#sometimes i just feel so empty and detached for no reason too | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eksvaized · 2 months

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Part One König / Ghost / Reader [ Previous 〡 Next ] ︱AO3 ︱Wattpad ︱ taglist: - (if you want to be added - let me know!)

since I finished editing 'just friends', I decided to rewrite & edit this story, so I hope you'll enjoy the new version! <3

Each morning, you awaken alone. The enormous bed, once filled with warmth, now cold and empty. Today, your morning isn't any different from the countless ones that have come before. As you roll onto your side, your hand stretches out, tracing the cool, empty expanse of the mattress. Your fingers curl around the frosty pillow, its fabric still bearing the faintest scent of him. You draw it closer to you, clutching at it in a futile attempt to fill the void that is left by your boyfriend and his lack of presence.

A sigh, barely audible, escapes your lips as a wave of loneliness engulfs you. Its icy tendrils wrap tightly around your heart, constricting it in a bitter reminder of your solitude. You yearn for a morning where you can flutter open your eyes to find König next to you, his arms securely wrapped around your body, his breath warm against your skin. You long to see him still sleeping, his face relaxed in peaceful slumber, instead of disappearing and getting out of bed as soon as the first rays of sunshine peek through the window. A longing for the soft whispers of "good morning" and the gentle comfort of his embrace fills you, making the emptiness of the bed all the more pathetic.

The first two years of your relationship with König were great. You were happy, genuinely happy, and over the moon because you finally had someone in your life, who truly cared about you, who showered you with attention and affection, and even lavished you with expensive gifts. You felt cherished and valued, and it was a feeling unlike anything you had ever experienced before.

However, as of late, König has transformed into someone unrecognizable. He is still your boyfriend; you love him very much, and he probably loves you even more. Yet, his demeanour, his behaviour, and the manner in which he has started to conduct himself have left you in a state of constant questioning. The love you once never doubted now seems uncertain, as his actions and attitude have begun to paint a different picture—he's not the man you met and fell in love with two years ago.

Sometimes, usually after a couple glasses of wine when you've gathered the courage, you dare to confront him about his nonchalant attitude towards you. In these moments of newfound bravery, you bombard him with questions, desperately seeking to understand if it's something you are doing that causes him to act as if he couldn't care less about you or your feelings. But no matter how earnestly you implore, he never gives you the answers you're looking for. He never provides any concrete explanations or reasons for his indifference.

He has a myriad of excuses for why he doesn't want to engage with you about your concerns. The reasons are countless and they change each time, just like shifting sands, always elusive and never consistent. You've heard a variety of them. For instance, he might dismiss your confrontation because of you being wine drunk, suggesting that you should go to bed. Another time, he might say he's too tired to engage in a deep conversation and promise to talk with you in the morning.

But perhaps the one that stings the most, your least favourite, is when he pretends he didn't hear you. Even when you're standing directly in front of him, looking at him with teary eyes, and pouring out your heart, he chooses to feign ignorance and act as though he didn't hear a single word. This cold dismissal is far worse than any words he could say.

Although he's cold with you, he never never displays any outright cruelty. Still, you can't help but notice the chilly detachment that has creeps into his voice when he talks with you. It's as if a frost has settled over your conversations, making each word feel like a shard of ice. Or the flicker of irritation that now seems to have taken up permanent residence in his eyes whenever he comes home and sees you. It's as if he's looking through you rather than at you, seeing not the person you are but the person he wishes you were.

König has constructed around himself an impenetrable wall. A wall so thick and so high that no matter how much you chip away at it, no matter how hard you try to scale its heights, it remains steadfast. It stands there as a constant reminder of the gulf that has opened up between you two—a gulf that seems to widen with each passing day.

You find yourself continuously attempting to convince your own mind that this is merely a fleeting phase, a temporary hiccup in your relationship. Every relationship, after all, has its own set of struggles and hurdles to overcome. It's normal, you tell yourself, maybe all you need to do is to be patient and wait it out. Time has a way of healing wounds and mending bridges, and perhaps a little more of it could be the magic potion that brings everything back to the way it used to be - normal and simple.

However, despite your best efforts to suppress it, there's a harsh, cruel voice that resides in the deepest recesses of your mind, nagging persistently. It casts a dark shadow of doubt over your thoughts, suggesting with an unsettling certainty that maybe, just maybe, the once deep love that existed between you and him is gradually, and painfully, fading away into oblivion.

You are brewing coffee, desperately hoping that the invigorating aroma and the caffeine would help to dissipate the remnants of sleep that linger stubbornly within you. The quiet solitude of the early morning embraces you, punctuated only by the gentle hum of the brewing machine and the occasional chirping of a bird outside.

But suddenly, the tranquillity of the moment shatters like glass as the front door swings open with a force that rings through the house. This abrupt entrance is quickly followed by the distinct, rhythmic thud of heavy boots making their way down the lengthy corridor. Each footfall sends a reverberation through the floorboards. The sound is so familiar, yet it sends a jolt through your heart. You don't even need to turn around to know - König has returned home.

Over the past few weeks, you've found yourself walking on eggshells around him. It feels as though the surrounding air has become thin and brittle, ready to shatter at the slightest misstep. You've been constantly monitoring your words and actions, choosing them with careful deliberation so as not to accidentally exacerbate his increasingly volatile mood, which has been fluctuating more frequently as days pass. But when he finally appears in the doorway of the kitchen, his face etched with deep lines of exhaustion and his eyes vacant, you find the words tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop them.

"What's wrong?"

His response is curt, delivered with an air of finality that leaves no room for further questions. "Nothing you need to worry about, liebling," he says, attempting to alleviate the palpable tension in the kitchen with a smile. But it's strained, fragile, like a piece of glass that's on the verge of shattering. The corners of his lips quiver slightly, an involuntary reaction betraying his inner turmoil. The frown lines etched deep on his forehead refuse to disappear, stubbornly present even as he tries to mask his emotions.

He closes the distance between you, his footsteps echoing in the silence. He leans in to plant a brief, fleeting kiss on your forehead, his lips colder than you remember, their warmth replaced by a chill that sends a shiver down your spine. As he continues his task, his hand reaches up to retrieve a cup from the cupboard above your head. You can't help but notice the new changes in him. His movements lack their usual grace, his touch feels mechanical, and his caresses are devoid of the genuine affection you've grown accustomed to. It's as if he's simply operating on autopilot, his mind evidently elsewhere.

You yearn for him to confide in you, to share his burdens and let you in on the whirlwind of thoughts that seem to be plaguing him. You wish to be his solace, to help him navigate through his sea of worries. More than anything, you want to help him, to alleviate his worries and bring back the man you know and love. But how can you do that if he refuses to let you in, if he remains so stubbornly silent, his emotions locked up tighter than a fortress?

"I'm leaving tomorrow. Have another mission. It's going to be a short one," König finally says, his gaze piercing you with an intensity that suggests he's expecting you to blow up.

However, you strive to maintain your composure. You have no intention of descending into another fruitless argument; every time he leaves after a fight, you feel awful for the way you acted.

"It's only been a week since you've returned home," you say, your eyes focused on the steaming cup cradled in your hands. The heat radiating from the cup is causing your fingertips to tingle, and the steam is lightly brushing against your skin. Despite the discomfort, you hold on to it with a firm grip. "I thought you were going to stay for at least another week. We had plans, remember? You gave me your word—."

He cuts you off before you can complete your sentence. "Plans have changed."

There have been countless times when you've wanted to confront König, to ask him directly why he finds it so challenging to uphold the promises that he so confidently makes. Yet each time you find yourself holding back, fully aware that such a conversation would be futile and would only result in both of you raising your voices in frustration. It has become painfully clear that he has no intention of discussing work-related matters with you.

König has a habit of offering reassurances that are devoid of any real comfort. He frequently insists that it's silly for you to burden your mind with matters that, in his opinion, do not directly concern you. This line of reasoning, though flawed, he presents as if it were an undeniable truth. And if, despite his attempts to dissuade you, you still muster the courage to press further, he always has a fallback. He always abruptly ends the conversation, leaving you hanging with a parting remark that it would be safer, better for you, if you remained ignorant.

* * *

As dawn breaks, you stir from your slumber only to find yourself enveloped once again by the cold emptiness of the bed beside you. The dreary grey skies outside mirror your inner turmoil. Raindrops pitter-patter gently against the windowpane. König didn't even bother waking you up before leaving. Yet, his absence is punctuated by a hastily scrawled note left carelessly on the nightstand. The message is brief and impersonal, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth: 'had to get up early, didn't want to wake you up. see you soon.'

Was it really so difficult to scribble three more words?

With a soft sigh, you whisper into the stillness of the bedroom, "I love you, too." The words, left unsaid by him, hang heavy in the air. You clutch the note in your hand before crumpling it and aimlessly tossing it onto the mattress.

With a great deal of effort, you pull yourself from the warm embrace of the bed, your feet reluctantly making contact with the icy floor beneath. You pause for a second, collecting your scattered thoughts, allowing the remnants of sleep to fade away as you mentally prepare yourself for yet another day.

Slowly, you venture through the hauntingly silent house, each step echoing through the stillness of the early morning. Each room you pass through seems to reverberate with echoes of a thousand memories that seem to cling to the walls and linger in the air. Yet amidst the symphony of remembrances, there's one memory that stands out from the rest, a memory that refuses to be drowned out by the others. It's that heated argument with König, a fiery exchange of words and emotions that took place just a few months ago.

You vividly recall the sting of his dismissive attitude on that day when you bared your soul to him, accusing him bitterly of not taking your relationship as seriously as you did, accusing him of taking your love, your commitment, for granted as if it were an inconsequential thing.

In the depths of your heart, you wished fervently, desperately even, for him to just be honest with you if his feelings for you were slowly fading away, like the last embers of a once roaring fire. You wanted him to admit it if he no longer felt the same passion, the same affection that once seemed to radiate from him like a comforting warmth.

But instead of providing the honesty you craved, he had merely dismissed your concerns, brushed them aside like dust. He told you that you were imagining things, that it was all just a figment of your overactive imagination, assuring you with words that felt hollow, that nothing between you two had changed.

But by the day's end, he had taken a step that had left you reeling in confusion. He had asked you to move in with him, a grand gesture that he believed would dispel your doubts and insecurities, a gesture that he thought would reassure you of his commitment. But instead of providing the comfort he hoped it would, it merely added another layer of complexity to the turbulent sea of emotions within you.

Initially, there was a glimmer of hope, a faint belief that things were on the verge of improving. You harboured the thought that perhaps the physical distance, the living apart, had been the catalyst that dimmed the once vibrant flame of your relationship. However, as each day bled into the next, and weeks morphed into seemingly interminable months, the solitary confinement within these walls began to weigh heavily on you.

The more time you spent alone in this house, the more you found yourself yearning for the familiar corners of your old apartment, regretting the decision to sell it to relocate here. After all, you pondered, what difference does it make where you live? The four walls of a room are just that, and the absence of König made this house feel no different than your old apartment.

What was the point of moving in together if König was always away, prioritising his work and his duty as a soldier above you?

You shake your head, as if physically trying to dispel the thoughts that have begun to creep into your mind. You can't allow yourself to dwell on them any longer, to let them take root and cast a shadow over your day. After all, the day has only just begun and you don't want to end up sulking on the couch, a prisoner in your own home, wallowing in a sea of regret and loneliness.

You stroll into the kitchen. As you slowly approach the counter, your fingers lightly graze the cool, granite surface, your mind whirling with the endless possibilities of what to make for breakfast. Your gaze wanders aimlessly, eventually settling on the window that provides a picturesque view of the neighbourhood.

You squint against the bright sun, your eyes catching an unusual sight - a man, his face damp with sweat under the morning sun, is engaged in an arduous task of moving boxes from a truck to the house across the street. His movements are slow and meticulous, each box handled with care as if they contain something precious.

A new neighbour.

A sense of intrigue washes over you, an irresistible curiosity that grips your very being. It's a magnetic pull that holds your attention captive, rendering you incapable of tearing your gaze away from the scene unfolding before your eyes.

His house lies across the street, a good distance away, yet his features are strikingly apparent and impossible to ignore even from your secluded vantage point in the cosy confines of your kitchen. His stature is tall and imposing, a figure that commands attention. His shoulders are broad, his hair is a dishevelled mess of rich blond locks.

As the day wears on, you find yourself repeatedly drawn to the kitchen window. Every so often, the man would step outside to retrieve yet another box from his truck, providing you with fleeting glimpses of him.

You remind yourself that you are in a committed relationship. You know that ogling other men is not something you should be doing. It's not something you usually do, and it's certainly not something you want to make a habit of.

However, in the recesses of your mind, a voice tries to justify your actions. It whispers, seeking to ease your guilt. You're just looking. That's not really doing anything wrong, right? It's a feeble attempt at rationalizing, but it works nonetheless.

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spookyscarydemonbabe · 7 months

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Buggy SFW Alphabet

A- Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they like to show affection?)

Not insanely affectionate when around other people, especially the crew, but when it’s just the two of you it’s quite the opposite. When around other people he likes to be the star, he doesn’t focus on much other than himself. He really just stands with you closer to his side, he loves to show off his earnings and you’re the most precious thing he’s ever earned. He likes to have you sitting pretty on the sidelines while he does all the nitty gritty pirate stuff. It’s always your biggest argument whenever you’re all alone in his quarters. When it’s just the two of you he adores you. Treating you like you’re the most precious treasure across all seas.

B- Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

He wouldn’t be all too good as a friend, he would make his intentions very clear from the start. He wants you more than anything, second only to being the most feared and powerful pirate anyone has known. He won’t stop until he has you either, always bringing you gifts and such to try and convince you further to let him have you.

C- Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle?How would they cuddle?)

He never admits to liking them, but he does enjoy a cuddle every now and then. Either very late at night when he wants to hold onto something to keep warm in bed or early in the morning when all he wants is to sleep in and enjoy your embrace. He likes to lay with his head against the pillow, you pulled into his side with your head on his chest and his arm around your shoulder, one of his hands detaching to hold tightly onto your thigh if it’s a bit too big for him to reach all the way around.

D- Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking, cleaning, etc.?)

Awful. He is just about the worst of them when it comes to either of those things but he occasionally tries to keep things nice for you. He’s not a messy or dirty person per se, but it’s not like he likes things squeaky clean. He keeps his bed made and his things in their spots, it’s all organized chaos. He’ll only cook or clean when you tell him to, he wants to make sure that he can keep you as happy as he can, he would hate for you to leave him. So if that means you need him to scrub the floors of his quarters and make you a decent meal to share afterwards it’s the least he can do to keep you another day.

E- Ending (If they had to break up with their partner how would they do it?)

Politely refusing to do this one 🥰

F- Fiancé (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

He wouldn’t necessarily want to call it a marriage, more so an alliance he wouldn’t dare to double cross. As long as you stayed with him, he’d spare every town you told him to, save for a little bit of looting. You know he would never leave anywhere empty handed. It’s how he managed to get your rings.

G- Gentle (How gentle are they? Both physically and emotionally.)

He was absolutely terrible at being gentle when he first met you, you basically had to teach him how to be more gentle with you in almost every way possible. His grip would be too hard on you, he hated having to talk about issues you had, it was quite difficult for him to figure out when it was time to treat things as a joking matter until you looked him in his eyes and said you’d be gone if he couldn’t be more gentle with you. It was almost a complete 180 after that.

H- Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

It’s rare when he gives you a nice, warm, long hug. He’s never been big on them, but when he’s genuinely frustrated he sometimes just needs you there to hold onto. You make him feel like everything is going to be alright again.

I- I Love You (How fast do they say it?)

He wouldn’t actually say it until it’s been a decent amount of time since you’ve been with him. The only reason he didn’t say it was because he was too proud to admit it was love. He’d always say how he adored you, how you were the most precious treasure he’d ever gotten, but it took him a while to finally figure out that it was love he felt.

J- Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Very jealous. Very quickly. It’s kind of part of the reason you like him so much, he’s very possessive. You have an agreement with each other so he knows that when you’re out at the bars, flirting with other guys for free drinks or information about other captains and their crews, you’re not going to do anything other than some harmless flirting to get what you need. Never anything more. But if he sees one of them get a little too handsy or if they start letting their words cross a line, he takes care of it in the blink of an eye.

K- Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

When he kisses you, he does it one of two ways. He’ll hold onto your collar, pull you in fast and close and kiss you nice and rough. Like he needs it to get through the day. Or, he’ll place his hands to your waist and bring you in slow, softly enveloping your lips. Those times are a bit more frequent than the latter. Either way, you’re happy to pull away with his red makeup smeared onto your face.

His favorite spot to kiss you is your neck. He always makes sure it gets the most of his attention. The sides of your neck, the back of your neck, he’ll even sometimes trail down to your collarbone and back up again. His favorite spot is right over your pulse, he likes to feel that little pitter patter of your heartbeat against his lips.

Strangely enough, he loves it when you kiss him on the nose. He knows people are going to stare at it regardless, he’s just a little more proud of it when everyone else can see the lipstick marks over the fluorescent red paint.

L- Little Ones (How are they around kids?)

Just awful. He has a hard enough time with people as is, but bringing children into the mix is no different. Treats them just the same as he would his crew, and he has absolutely no issue with taking them out if they get in his way.

M- Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

It all depends on which side of the bed he wakes up on. It’s always a 50/50, he’ll either want to lay in bed all day with you, snuggled up and doing absolutely nothing other than admire the fact that he has you there with him. Or, he’ll wake up grumpy as ever, needing a big breakfast and a pretty girl (you) on his lap while he tries to not lash out.

N- Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights are usually much more relaxed than mornings are. He’s exhausted by the time the day is done so he likes a nice and calm evening before bed. You’ll help him with getting his things set up for the next day and making sure your bed is nice and comfortable for him to crawl into.

O- Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything at once or do they open slowly?)

It would take a while for him to reveal much of anything about his past to you until he’s certain he’s got you for the long run. He doesn’t like to show much weakness to others, he comes off as very cocky and confident to most, so you knew he really trusted you when he started to reveal little personal things here and there. It made you like him a little bit more after he got comfortable.

P- Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Very quick to anger, but with you it’s a bit different. He’s the boss of everyone else on his crew, but you’re the boss of him. He’ll never lay a hand on you unless you tell him it’s alright, and you know how irritated he gets when things don’t go his way. You’ll let him have his moment, yelling about this and that while throwing things around and berating his crew, but you know he’ll apologize to you for having to see him like that and clean up after himself. He quite literally begs for your forgiveness afterwards, he doesn’t want his temper to scare you away.

Q- Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they mention every little detail in passing or do they kind of forget everything?)

He does his best to remember, but it always comes at the worst times. He’ll only remember your favorite flower after seeing them on a sellers cart and robbing him of every one he has just for you. He’ll only remember your favorite food after pillaging through another island and taking all their food and supplies and saving it for you to snack on whenever you like. He can be very sweet, but it’s in his own way.

R- Remember (What is their favorite memory of your relationship?)

When you agreed to stay with him, and he remembers that moment often. He’d spent WEEKS doing absolutely everything he could to convince you to be on his crew, offering you food, money, clothes, jewelry, anything he could think of just to get you to say ‘yes’, and when you finally agreed he realized that just being a part of his crew wasn’t enough. He wanted full access to you at all times, believing you to be more valuable than anything he had ever gotten. It got to a point where his special treatment just became the norm, you stay at his side, looking pretty and letting him do all the hard work so he looks like the biggest baddest pirate to ever cross the sea, but he does it all yo make you happy.

S- Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He’s VERY protective of you. He tries to make it seem like you’re just another crew mate when you’re out and about, not wanting anyone else to figure out that if you were taken from him he would lose everything he’s worked so hard for. He makes sure that whenever you want to go out and have your alone time, he’ll send a few of the crew to keep an eye on you just to make sure you’re not in any danger.

T- Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Like i said beforehand, he’s sweet but in his own way. He’d never mention any specific anniversaries or dates except when you’re alone. The whole day will go by as normal, but as soon as he’s ready to retire back to his quarters, he’ll show you how grateful he is for completing another milestone together. A month, six months, a year, and every year after that. Not to mention how he likes to make sure that it’s very special for the two of you. He has the crew going out and doing tasks that they know only come around once a year. Searching high and low for flowers, candles, little sweets and candies all for you. The cooks will make you a very small but intimate meal. He cherishes you and though he doesn’t show it often, he really means it.

U- Ugly (What would be some of their bad habits?)

He’s got quite a few. He’s a pirate, for one, so cleanliness is not really something he’s worried about. He still showers and takes care of himself a decent bit, but it’s rare. He’s someone who doesn’t really think much before he says or does anything, so he’s very quick to react. Meaning that often times when he injures himself it’s accidentally by his own hand.

V- Vanity (Hoe concerned are they about their appearance?)

Not overly concerned with it, all he cares about is his makeup looking good, but that’s really about it.

W- Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Absolutely. You’re the treasure he’s worked the hardest to get, there’s no way he wouldn’t be lost without you.

X- Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

His hair is actually quite long beneath his hat. He’s got the tassels at the sides of his captains hat made from his actual hair, but as soon as he pulls his striped cap off he’s got very long and quite soft blue hair.

Y- Yuck (What are some things he wouldn’t like, in general and in a partner?)

He wouldn’t want someone who doesn’t know how to take charge. He knows how stubborn he is, and he likes having someone that challenges him a little bit. He actually loves it, and he has no problem with you taking charge behind closed doors. He’s the boss of everyone else on the ship, but you know you’re the boss of him. And he knows it too.

Z- Zzz (A sleep habit of theirs.)

Makes a lot of noise in his sleep. It’s a lot of man sounds, grunts and groans, but eventually it becomes like white noise to you. He also fidgets and moves around a lot in his sleep, you even were able to talk him into a bigger bed and he’d never object to that, but he somehow always ends up pressed against you.

#one peice #one piece live action #buggy the clown #captain buggy #buggy one piece #buggy x y/n #buggy x you #buggy x reader #buggy x yn #buggy headcanons

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rin-and-jade · 3 months

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Petrified like Medusa: A Post about Catatonic Dissociation. (more like how catatonia and dissociation work, creating a devastating combo. oof!)

Have you ever got that feeling where you cannot move your limbs, say a word, or even breathe? Do you feel like all your functions had stopped as if it's a statue? Where everything ceases to a halt as your body betrays whilst doing your daily activities? Something else might felt wrong and odd too;

It's not just your imaginary,, it is something real that us, systems sometimes experience. May this post bring you understanding of today's topic!

The difference between catatonia and dissociation

Catatonia is similar to freeze response, the only difference lies on the reason, which is: it is usually a byproduct of something (usually by overwhelm), while freeze activates from stressful situations. Being catatonic means:

Stuck in a position, no matter how uncomfortable or what pose you're at.

Find it hard to execute/keep up with basic actions such as eating, drinking, breathing, or even blinking!

You find yourself actively struggling/fighting against the heavy friction of the unmoving body. Or is absent from any forms of thoughts, seemingly empty inside out.

Stiff, rigid movements, making soft skills harder to perform.

Dissociation on the other hand, is an active defense that works by flinging you out from there by any means. Making you feel physically + emotionally detached, and mentally not engaging the situation. It is a veil that blurs the details and such, minimizing as much damage as possible.. it can look like:

The world looking a bit slow, distorted, or unclear.

Tactile sensations and sounds feel toned down and damped.

Your thoughts and movement may or may not get sluggish/lagged.

Memories feels fuzzy, preventing clarity of the situation.

How it affects us, systems..

Catatonic dissociation can happen when we are faced with inevitable, stressful moments. Depending on how bad the situation is,, when you're dissociating, catatonia can slowly creep up on you and petrify everything from top to bottom.. like medusa; This alone can hinder the communication and body coordination in systems.

Luckily, you can be aware of the warning signs soon before it sets in, pay attention to:

Feeling a huge reduction in movement, or have confusion of it.

It's harder to speak clearly, possibly restricting volume or vocals.

You are unbothered when someone is pushing you, for example. And stayed passive/still trying to process what happened.

Finding yourself standing/sitting/etc longer than you'd expect to.

A change in switching patterns, or show clear struggle in attempt.

Things feels like it skipped a beat, and you 'snapped out' every few moments. As if you were put into a trance.

Additionally, catatonia-like dissociation can also happen when you are in the middle of the process of a switch, feeling extra blank and unmoving until a new fronter completely took over, too! To minimize discomfort and possible injuries, practice caution by choosing a safe, comfortable spot beforehand.

The takeaway and tips to overcome this:

This episode is temporary, lasting from a few minutes to an hour or two (there might be instances that it will be longer). Frequency is subjective,

There are things that can be done to ease and lesson such discomfort or struggles; starting from planning a tactic for this situation, minimizing current triggers/stressors, finding a spot to lay down/sit although it'll be hard.. so take this step steady, and stay comfortable until it disappears by itself. Grounding techniques could help, though i have not tried them myself, feel free to test the theory.

Lastly, this concludes the end of the post! Thankyou for helping me decide which to do first, so please expect the other one to be out in a few weeks as i go down the rabbit hole, yet again. If you find this interesting, or helpful, or worthy of being shared to other people, i will appreciate every one of you who had read 'til the bottom of the post <3

- j, a very happy one

#did #actually did #did community #did osdd #did system #dissociative identity disorder #sysblr #plural #system stuff #jeducates

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aldryrththerainbowheart · 1 year

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[XIII - Death] ; Are they willing to date someone else?

Fandom: Devil May Cry

Characters: Dante, Vergil, Nero

Relationships: character x reader

Note: There it is, another dmc arcana drabble after a long, long time. As always, please leave as many comments as possible I love to read them.

Hugs and kisses,

Rainbow

With Dante, it’s difficult to decide. It can go two ways. It was already difficult for him to let someone into his dangerous life. To let someone else in is highly improbable. Unlike Vergil and Nero, it’s Dante’s experiences with relationships that hold him back. He never had much luck in his love life and that, combined with everything else in his life, makes him cautious when building relationships. On the other hand, because it worked out between the two of you once maybe his game is not so bad. Maybe he can give it another try. I picture him as a guy who wouldn’t break up with you on bad terms, and you two could remain friends or acquaintances even after your breakup. In that case, he would ask you for advice or your opinions, if you’re open to it. Likewise, if you were to pursue a new romantic relationship, he would encourage you. If you were to leave the relationship prematurely, meaning you passed away, it would more difficult for him. It would take a special kind of person to mend his broken heart. They would also have to respect that he would still hold you dearly in his heart. Somewhere in there is a special place meant just for you.

In Vergil’s case, it’s not as much of a matter if he would want anyone else, but if anyone else wanted him. He’s…not easy to understand, even harder to love. He’s aware of his flaws though. He would handle the breakup better than the other two, simply because it’s easier to emotionally detach himself from certain things. But sometimes, in the dead of night, he would lie awake in his bed, thinking about your shared past, and feel a twinge in his chest. Then, he would look sideways at the spot you usually slept in and realize it was empty. Another reason Vergil would probably stay alone is entirely practical and unromantic. He would have to get used to someone new, and that’s just too hard for this hermit. He probably wouldn’t have problems residing with Dante in Devil May Cry for the rest of his days, surrounded by books and cats to keep him company. His brother may be annoying sometimes, but he’s still his family and Vergil does not mind Dante’s company as much as he pretends he does.

Nero’s still young so I can’t see the reason why he would not find a partner. Don’t be mistaken though, it’s not easy for him either. Nero is a sweet and honest man. Out of all Spardas, he’s the most emotional one. Nero’s not the one for occasional hookups or casual relationships. He won’t be fooling around with someone unless he gets something real out of it. It’s hard to say what kind of relationship the two of you would have after a breakup. You would not be friends per se, like with Dante, but Nero would be nice to you. If for no other reason than the bond you once shared. When the breakup is still fresh, he’ll immediately dive into work to get over it. After some time, he gets back into the dating scene. He’s of age to have a dating app and I can picture him finding someone new that way. But not before some hilarious dating fails. Some of them even became funny stories to pass amongst friends and family. That is if he’s not too embarrassed to share them.

#dante imagine #dmc dante #dante x reader #devil may cry dante #dante devil may cry #dante x you #dante headcanons #vergil imagine #vergil x reader #dmc vergil #devil may cry vergil #vergil x you #dmc5 nero #nero x reader #nero imagine #devil may cry nero #major arcana event

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spiribia · 8 months

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FOR ME gw2 is strongest in its open-endedness and movement systems, its rewarding of exploration. I do have a lot of fun with its linear story, but I feel like some of its narrative issues arise from the disparate existences of a focused narrative localized in a story journal & missable major character interaction or lore tidbits that exist in the open world in random real time events or journal entries tucked away in niches, sometimes taking place in between chapters of the main story without certainty of if you’re even at the point of the plot for it yet. and because of the freedoms the game wants to grant you, there is no way for them to guarantee you experience, not core plot stuff per se, but specific ambient things that pad out story that might otherwise feel oddly brief, abrupt, or empty if you just beeline the story they do guide you on, and yet the main story is written to assume you did all that. I think every player has had a moment of at least minor disorientation, a “who is this npc and what are they doing here”, a “wait, when did this character show up”. SOTO spoilers under cut.

it doesn’t particularly help in some cases that there is a certain detached brevity to some emotional beats. while characters have so much dialogue space to banter, there’s a lot of characters outright telling you how they felt about things you didn’t actually get to experience. here’s what zojja says after you kill an npc that as far as I know merely exists for you as a one-off possessed enemy you come across in a room of an instance.

what am I supposed to do with this information, and how am I meant to parse it emotionally? I didn’t even know that npc at all. She is not brought up before this or after.

I’ve seen a lot of people say they felt distant from mabon’s death. You are kind of just listening to zojja TELL you why this death is devastating to her and what Mabon meant to her basically anew.

Can you think of a single memorable moment off the top of your head between Mabon and Zojja before he died? That isn’t a rhetorical question, & I don’t mean to say that you can’t - but for me, I couldn’t.

When I was first starting out the game, I remember seeing player complaints about the storyline that all the characters do is talk and talk about their FEELINGS, and I thought, that’s a silly thing to hate about a story! Don’t you want to care about these characters and what they’re going through emotionally? But I think that has become part of the problem for me in time – that these characters TELL me what they’re feeling all the time and yet somehow it doesn’t mean anything to me emotionally. A heart-to-heart does make sense – there is sometimes just no other way to hear a character parse out to you specifics of what is going on inside of them – but in many cases I don’t even have the context for the situation to be more than a character all but saying ‘this loss has affected me deeply for these reasons, and I will now undergo character development.’ This isn’t an issue exclusive to SOTO to me, to be clear – there are many times in the broader story when the emotional impact of something has been more told to me than felt.

I understand that they are on a limited runtime storywise in things like a game, but it’s not that I feel like there’s not even dialogue – I feel like there is SO much dialogue and yet major beats in the story don’t feel properly fleshed out to me sometimes. I don’t know how much I can articulate this without textwalling everyone. But I love the game, I actually do. I say this because there have been definitely profound singular moments too.

#talks

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yzareenxiv · 1 year

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Owner of a Lonely Heart

The end of winter, the Winter Solstice, her suppressed time of heat, the freezing winds of the First Umbral Moon and the celebration of love that occurred during it, all of that had passed with Zareen living two- no, tell it true, three lives.

The main life, the good life, was in the here-and-now. Watching Sarang and Ravi and Mede and Terbish and Nekhi grow, visiting with her friends and family, her carefully crafted tribe, and watching as they welcome their own children and grow and change and endure their struggles and growth. In this life, she smiles, she laughs, she loves as fiercely as she can, she dances and sings. It is a good life.

But it is a lonely life. She is surrounded by love, this is true. But she cannot help but feel the ache in her heart- the locked and barred connection in her soul that will never again be opened, the emptiness of the place that has held one, then another, then another, sometimes more than one at the same time, sometimes a single precious presence. It’s so terribly scarred, that part of her, damaged to the point where it is a jagged hole, surrounded by sharp edges and broken pieces that could too-easily pierce or tear at that unwary. She hides it well- after all, the rest of her life is fulfilling in ways she had stopped even dreaming it could be. But it’s there… and sometimes it aches and fills her with a hunger that has turned on itself, sinking sharp fangs into itself and singing in agonized and joyous screams as the venom races and burns through her veins.

That is the second life. The life of blood, the life of the Hunt, the life of chasing down whatever prey she can find- with or without someone at her side- and bleeding it, tormenting it, terrifying it past the point of fear into blindness and then descending upon it as a vengeful, reckless, terrifying creature whose humanity has been shredded away just as the hide of it’s prey has been. She eats of hearts and livers, she bathes in blood, she slips through the minds and souls as a mad goddess to bring ecstasies of agony until the very last moment of consciousness.

Innocent beasts do not interest her in this, though she will hunt them to protect her private sanctuaries and the people in the village that she retreats to sometimes. This second life is reserved for those the Sin Eater marks. Those that the bounty bills mark. Those that the Void has marked. They are shown the Jaguar with her heart turned inside-out and all those jagged edges pointed out to devour flesh and sorrow and too-late-repentance and finally, sometimes, the soul. She is not so twisted that she drinks in opposition to her laws as Sin Eater- but she also will forego a lesser prey for one that she knows she can keep back from the River in justice.

Those are the two lives she lives in the world. In the here-and-now. In the place of flesh and blood, laughter and sorrow, where the sun rises and sets and the moon rises and sets and the stars glitter.

The third life is the secret life. The third life is in her mind, though at times it bleeds through in nightmares and flashbacks that steal her breath or her attention during the day until she realizes she’s being looked at or spoken to and can escape back into the first life. The third life is the Labyrinth, where she has yet to find the door yet can spy through more and more cracks and crumbling walls. Never yet has there been a hole wide enough to step through and she is grateful for that for she knows herself- if she sees it, it will torment her curiosity until she tries to cheat her way into ‘just dipping a toe’ and perhaps losing herself altogether. For this reason, too, she does not seek the door too fervently. There is more than enough to see. She remembers, now, in a strange and detached way, that when she fell into the Void she was brought to a palace, a realm inside the Void that seemed enormous and always at war with it’s neighbors. Her time, she knows now, was roughly split into interminable eras: First, she was an animal, a beast used to hunt and harry prey at the whim of beings she could not understand. She fell into this role too-easily at first, until pride returned, and with it reason and knowledge. She began to learn the language of her masters, listening, always listening, and planning, her cleverness against their complacency. Second, she was a slave. A step above a beast, living in the palatial estates of whichever being held her metaphorical leash. That was the worst time, the time she endured the most, the time she moved from master to mistress to master, a living creature to twist and bend and use in whatever manner they wished for she was so easy to heal. As a slave, she learned of the transactional nature of the Void. As a slave, she learned survival in ways she had not had to learn upon the Source. As a slave, she had found her limits and been forced past them once she had been lifted to serve the nobility and been subjected to their unique and exquisite cruelties. They knew what she was, saw her too-clearly, and she suffered. Third, a servant. As she had suffered, she’d learned. As she’d learned, she’d begun to make impressions. As she’d made impressions, she’d learned more. Her speech became refined, her keen huntress mind now stalking the halls of the body politic. She learned the art of subtlety, of flattery and lies and inner machinations. Of hiding behind lowered eyes and a smooth tongue and watching obliquely as her suggestions became her master’s ideas and were carried through into successes and failures. At last, in a moment of boldness that could have been her undoing, she’d struck. Fourth, a noble- a position stolen just as the natives of the Void always stole them from each other. She walked the halls a different woman, a spy, breaking shackles in secret and laying in place plots and plans and traps with a delicate skill while wielding power ruthlessly and perpetuating the same agonies upon others that she remembered suffering herself. This was the worst to remember, this was the best to remember. These memories held the Zareen of the here-and-now entranced sometimes as she watched a woman that was herself but not herself- a twin… no, a doppelganger- move through that world in ways that Zareen herself had never mastered in this life.

She didn’t realize that as the memories surfaced, so too did some of the elements of that otherself. Moments where she would gain an aloof mein, calling to naughty children with the imperious tone of royalty that brooks no disobedience. Moments of silence where she found herself watching people in the cities and identifying them effortlessly as greater powers and lesser, simply knowing what she should do to ingratiate herself and make ally or crush enemy. There were the bad moments, too, of course. The moments of slavery, of being the hunting beast, of being the victim of torments. A barking laugh while she waited for her turn in one of the fighting pits reminding her of the Houndmaster… that had ended in her being pulled from the still body of her opponent and banned for a moon for acts she truly could not remember. She’d visited a brothel once, seeking to ease the ache in her loins and the itch in her skin for violent delights, but glimpsing a ham-fisted fool and a whore merely acting the part had made her so ill she’d rushed from the place and been violently sick. Which isn’t to say that the submissive who craved the darker side of sex and mastery was gone- truth being that she wanted it even more. Once she’d had a taste of too-far, she ached in a true and physical way sometimes to come close to it again. A private ache that she endured as the one she trusted to fulfill her desires, who enjoyed fulfilling her desires, wrestled with himself.

Three lives. One woman. Zareen knew something was going to give, eventually- those moments of slippage would likely get worse, or more frequent. Or the Labyrinth would seal itself away again and she would lose access to a part of herself that she wanted to know and understand despite the risks. Or the jagged part of her heart would start to devour the joy that she found in her first life- or cause her to become addicted.

She couldn’t help herself, it seemed. One way or another, she was always back to dancing on the edge of the blade, keeping time with whirling dervishes of song that flung her back and forth, leaping and landing on her toes with every beat of her heart a beat of the drum.

#y'zareen serhan #stories #rp stories #ffxiv rp #the void #the labyrinth #no tws

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pertinasities · 10 months

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kaeya's words give diluc pause; he hesitates for a moment before reaching for the next ingredient in kaeya's drink. he supposes it's not an ... incorrect assertion ( and the glaringly obvious implication makes his heart heave painfully in his chest. ... he's been so cruel to his little brother. so unfathomably, unforgivably cruel. ) " ... just because they fall into it ... doesn't mean they have to stay there. resentment is a trap ... forgiveness is a choice." his gaze is searching when he meet's kaeya's, posing a silent question: what about you ? do you still hate me for all i put you through ? or could you ever find it in your heart to forgive me --- to call me 'brother' again ? " ... is ... everything all right, kaeya ? you're always cryptic, but you're being ... especially so tonight." | @dilucisms

Kaeya tips back on the barstool just a touch further than is safe - the way Crepus always used to scold him for. It will ruin the integrity of the chair - he'll fall and hit his head. Any number of cautionary tales. But he hasn't heard that lecture in years, and he'll never hear it again. Funny how that works.

"How very well spoken of you, Master Diluc," Kaeya drawls, sure to sound as shitty as possible. He may have started them down this road, but he can feel every wall he's built around himself doubling rapidly as they grow dangerously close to a genuine conversation.

But of course, Diluc has always had a way of slamming a battering ram into the weakest point, leaving Kaeya exposed and defenseless.

"Careful now, I might start to think you care." It's a deflection, but he knows Diluc will see right through it. But it's also an out. Diluc can turn now, leave Kaeya to mortar his walls and lick his wounds. Or, the more frightening option, he can double down. Can press a conversation they've both been avoiding for years. If only Kaeya had kept his mouth shut.

Still, his finger traces the rim of his empty glass as Diluc prepares his next. He could leave now, but his options would be the Cat's Tail, or making a drink at home. It's never as good as when Diluc makes it (just like hot chocolate when they were younger, he thinks).

"I've had a lot on my mind as of late." His voice turns softer, just a touch. And no one to talk about it to goes unsaid. Ever since he got back from Sumeru he's felt... detached, almost. More than usual. Like the loyalty he's built means nothing, could crumble in the face of something as simple as his lineage. It's like he's 18 again, a ticking time bomb that can't tell anyone what he really is. And the vision hanging at his hip is a constant reminder.

"Forgiveness is a funny thing. We think we choose it, but I don't think I agree." He'd tried, for a time, not to forgive Diluc. It would be easier that way. The less ties the better, anyway, and he had more than enough reason. Yet he couldn't even maintain the resentment properly until Diluc returned. "We can try, of course, but sometimes the grudge doesn't die. And sometimes, we fail to stoke it."

An unusual bout of honesty leaves him unsteady, unsure, and faintly uncomfortable. Maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it's the hour, maybe it's the strange concoction he volunteered to test for Albedo and Sucrose. Or maybe it's one too many burdens, and a soft spot he's never managed to snuff out.

#writing | kaeya #i did not mean for this to get this long but diluc unlocked kaeya experiencing emotions #and now this is all here KJASHDFKLAJH #<- normal about kaeya (lying)#dilucisms #q | replies

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inked-out-trees · 1 year

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69, 44, and 25 for the writers ask

I need to get back to writing too, but in good news I'm getting a feel of character for one of them. Now if I only had a plot

we're doing it! getting back into writing together! thank you for the reverse directional asks i will do them exactly how you have asked

69. how do you write emotional scenes? do you ever feel what the characters feel?

if i'm coming into it Knowing that i want to write an emotional scene, usually there's music involved! i have a collection of sad and otherwise melancholy playlists (plus one that's just songs i think would fit well in those angsty last 3 minutes of a tv show episode before the cliffhanger) and they tend to serve me well; if all else fails i'll find the most recent mood-fitting song i've been repeating lately and loop it forever. (most recently has been doctor eleven by dan romer. was the only thing i listened to for my crw class submission and personally i think it turned out swell.)

as for feeling the characters, i don't think so? a lot of the time what i feel when i'm writing is just joy from writing, vague evil sentiment, or if it's Really A Lot To Handle, there'll be like, an ache. occasionally i do make myself cry but that's mostly for personal or original things, and less for fanfic. unless it's the annie chapter of bean's beans. but typically i am somewhat detached, which is actually kind of impressive considering my propensity for imprinting on literally everything. huh! i learn something new about myself every day.

44. any writing advice you want to share?

man i never know if there's any sort of sagely things i do that could be passed off as wisdom but. the best piece of advice i've read (on tumblr too i think) was that if you're stuck, it's possible that the problem is actually a couple lines back. usually i look between three paragraphs and half a page up to see what different choices i could make, and that tends to solve my problem more often than not. kind of magic, that.

in other sort of throwaway bits, i always start a fic creation process by opening a doc and just rambling onto it. no proper prose, just as though i'm having a conversation with the empty page. it's helpful both to get my ideas in order and to have a place to come back to if need be - it's easier to toss the ball around if the net's already there, yknow? also, if for some reason microsoft word isn't doing it for me, i find fighter's block to be good for dumping out words, and zenpen has carried me through several terms of creative writing assignments and also poetry so take that as you will.

25. what's your revision or rewriting process like?

would you laugh at me if i said i don't edit my fics. this is not necessarily true in that i don't consider what i post to be rough in any way, but when it comes to fic especially i'm a big first-one-done kind of guy. that being said: i reread my work a lot. a lot a lot. and often times i will pick up little things that need fixing, line edits or weird repetitive things, so i do find it helpful. also the read-aloud function on word has been great to me. and i make frequent use of the comment function in word, which has been exceedingly useful when it comes to the fact that i haven't yet figured out the whole timeline of fixed point so some of the dates are just "FIGURE THIS OUT LATER" and "IS THIS TRUE?".

and of course sharing with other people :) coming from creative writing seminars i've realised (? finally understood? i don't actually know how much of an enlightenment it was but it was something) how useful it is to get someone and just say, hey, tell me how you interpret this, are there any questions you still have, god forbid did i leave any gaping plot holes. this comes in especially handy because in MY brain i know all the answers, and sometimes they forget to worm out onto the page. this again has just happened in my current seminar, so rest in peace to the quest plot i tentatively thought i could maybe go without describing (for wordcount's sake) but apparently not. it is cool and fine.

anyway happy tuesday and also thank you!

#as of the moment of posting it is still monday but it's tuesday in my heart #fic ask game #love ya! thanks for being a cool writing buddy #i wrote one of my favourite emotional scenes for the ttau a while ago #and i'm finally getting close to the part where it's actually meant to slot in #obsessed with grief tinged violence. raw edges and hope.#belooooved

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atlasisntdead · 1 year

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It's honestly weird how I'm extremely avoidant but I managed to have a few good friends and a romantic partner. I think that it becomes a bit more obvious that I am avoidant when I point out that 2 out of 3 friends are people I befriended (aka managed to trust and get close to) before I developed avpd fully, and the 3rd one literally initiated the friendship in every sense of the word, and literally couldn't be more safe personality wise; and as for my partner, we literally met online, spent years slowly getting to know each other (much slower than irl I'd say) and we both are avoidant, plus the added physical distance made trust way easier.

On the flip side, everywhere I go, and I mean Everywhere I Go, highschool, college, workplace with a lot of coworkers, I never manage to actually make any friends. Of course, well, you're not gonna be close and personal with a ton of people, that's completely normal- others often say, but they don't realize to what extent I Do Not Befriend Anyone. I don't do even the basic, small acts of friendliness that lead to being the lowest degree of known by people around me. I think they don't realize this because they consider those smaller acts to be, well, there inherently, cause they are for them.

I do socialize in those places, the socialization being in typical avoidant fashion a surface level interaction that isn't allowed to go any further, and is always lacking even for a detached dynamic, since I can't be too consistent in it, I really can't, cause that can lead to being known, humiliated, intruded upon. And so I often just feel really odd, ghostly and empty if I'm forced to spend a large amount of time in these places. Thankfully, college isn't one of those places so far, but it probably will be now that real life classes have started.

People I know sometimes even assume that the people at those places must just suck so it makes sense I'm not friends with anyone, but that isn't fair to say, because I know that it isn't the main reason. But my parents, ironically, keep blaming me. The people that were most likely one of the primary reasons I am this way.

I guess I'm trying to explain my experience with friendships/relationships, because it doesn't seem "obvious" that I am avoidant if you just look at my surface level situation regarding people, and this is particularly a bad thing because I live in a place where personality disorders are not really recognized and I sincerely doubt I'll be diagnosed with avpd or even acknowledged to have potential PD traits, and this is especially true because when you look at my social life, you see things that make you think I am not disordered, that I function normally, that I manage, cause I managed to get close to all of those people. And I don't know how to explain how specific the circumstances have to be for me to ever manage that, and how incredibly difficult it always is every step of the way, and how it never stops being difficult. I guess no one ever cares about that.

#avpd #avoidant personality disorder #I think it's important to talk about how easily a person with avpd can become friendless and alone #but as someone who has struggled with both that and difficulties with managing friendships and relationships #I don't know if I can say one is better than the other #but that's just my experience #I'm particularly struggling to maintain closeness with people this year #after major trauma I experienced for almost the entirety of last year #it really really sucks

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septembersghost · 2 years

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Hi! Sorry for bringing this up and I hope it's not triggering, I just keep thinking about these words you said: "{…}which has made my only recourse a wide chasm of separation, and that's a loss in its own sense. sometimes i think it's a relief to not allow it to take up as much space in my heart and mind, and other times i feel a stinging anger and deep, persistent grief that it had to come to that point. it's VERY hard to separate from something you love and are invested in that has also become a source of pain". The first time I read them, it made me cry. I sooo know the feeling. A small story again (and sorry for it being too personal), five years ago, when I was struggling with a particularly bad depression episode, Dean was there for me. If it wasn't for him, I know I would've done something very stupid, something… irreversible, but he saved me, single-handedly pulled me from the brink. He used to be my comfort ever since. Spn used to be my comfort. Seasons 13, 14, 15 especially and the finale brought that full-on depression and mental breakdowns back. It sucks and hurts that, as an act of self care and healing, we had to cut ties with the show. And that means, by a certain extent, to detach from Dean too :(( He's not part of the show for me or the part of the narrative, nor has he ever been, but even so, there is a level of distance and the connection I felt before is essentially lost now and things don't quite work the same way. I still love him, he is still my dearest boy, I still have his framed self-made portrait (which I drag with me wherever I go), but it's not what it used to be. There's a kind of detachment to it. I tried to rewatch spn a few months back, but I can't. And I wish I could say that it just was too painful and that's why, but no, what hurts even more is that I couldn't, didn't want to care or be invested anymore. I used to care so much. And now it's just… this hollow emptiness, this indifference. It's like what Mike in BCS said, one moment you're gonna wake up, you're gonna brush your teeth, go to work, and then you'll realize you haven't thought about it at all. One evening last year I realized that I haven't thought about spn for a long, long time. Then I burst into tears because it felt like saying goodbye, really saying goodbye this time, and it hurt, and I didn't want that, but I don't know what else could I have done rather then complete separation. There's a line from a song that stuck with me forever. "I'm writing a book on how to stay conscious when you drown {…}/ I'm writing a chapter on what to do after they dig you up/ On what to do after you grew to hate what you used to love". It's SO indicative of my (former) "relationship" with spn (the whole song is, given that it's unironically called How Not to Drown), and your words reminded me of that . It's just… I understand you and I love you ♥ You're the only person I can safely talk to about those things. I wish I could give you a hug right now :(

never be sorry, darling, and i hope you don't mind me posting this. i have a lot of emotional posts and very personal stories linked to this, so you've come to the right place and are definitely not alone.

Dean was there for me. If it wasn't for him, I know I would've done something very stupid, something… irreversible, but he saved me, single-handedly pulled me from the brink. <- anyone who's been here since the end of 2020 and well into 2021 is probably tired of me discussing this, but...same. dean was with me from the very onset of my illness, and through some very dark times and terrible moments, real traumas and losses and grief. he was one of my closest constants and a talisman of bravery and strength for those fifteen years, and i can pinpoint some specifically difficult moments where he helped me hold on, or gave me a reason to remember i had to. i've discussed this endlessly with other mutuals too, who felt similarly and turned to spn for comfort - it is not, at its core, a comforting story, it's in fact quite often the opposite, something that unearths fears and directly examines wounds, but a lot of us found a home there anyway, even if it was a haunted one. and we found resilience and courage and an unfailingly loving heart. it's not a secret i despise d*bb era overall, but i could never give the show up, because of him. it's also not a secret (considering it's...why this blog exists...) that the finale drove me to some measure of an emotional breakdown which took me quite a while to even begin to recover from, and felt like such a profound loss that it had not only a detrimental mental effect, but a physical one too, in that it actually affected my illness issues for a bit. the fracture i experienced in november 2020 is only comparable to real grief and heartbreak i've experienced, my mom watched me weep that night and has told me how terrible it was for *her*. i've been over and over it in posts, i've been over and over it with friends, but the ache never actually goes away. once that full year had passed, i got the point where i had no choice but to bury it, in a way. to separate from it in order to protect myself. there certainly IS a level of healing and self-care in that, and i KNOW it's healthier than obsessing and crying about it, i know it's better to put it aside, but that in itself has been a hard choice, because it feels a little like letting him down in letting it go.

that means, by a certain extent, to detach from Dean too :(( He's not part of the show for me or the part of the narrative, nor has he ever been, but even so, there is a level of distance and the connection I felt before is essentially lost now and things don't quite work the same way. I still love him, he is still my dearest boy - honestly, did you extract this directly from my brain? it feels like i could've written it, and there definitely is a transcendence he has apart from the narrative, it was one of the first things i tried to assert and cling to, and no one has the place he has to me in that chamber of my heart, but ultimately the detachment still came. i've had people say that's letting d*bb win or giving the ending too much credit, and i did try to defy that for a while, but ultimately that was more damaging. as it stands now, i can't rewatch either - traditionally, i ALWAYS watch the pilot on my birthday, since it's also the show's anniversary. year after year, that was a part of my day, even last year. i planned to do it this year too, and when it came down to it, i just couldn't press play. last year, when i was still rewatching (i got to 11x01 and then...the comment we talked about before happened and it halted me so abruptly and dreadfully in my tracks, and like, fractured something in my head, and i never restarted it), there was an acute and constant pain in it, but it felt essential to keep. after releasing that somewhat, it was chased by those hollows and shadows instead. what hurts even more is that I couldn't, didn't want to care or be invested anymore. I used to care so much. And now it's just… this hollow emptiness, this indifference. this, so much. the indifference is...it isn't necessarily worse than being angered or agonized, but it's still terrible and unsettling. it's a lack of something. love and grief are intertwined, but what do you call it when you only have a rattling emptiness?

it's serendipitous you would send this today, because on the song topic, i was looking for something else altogether on my old-old blog, my very first blog here, and exactly ten years ago, on september 27, 2012, i rewrote the lyrics from "begin again" to be about him. it sounds silly now, red wasn't even out yet, the song was released as a promo single, and it was so beautiful and cathartic, and somehow i connected it to him, and his meaning, and to hopes that i had. being reminded of that today probably should've been more shattering, but instead it just felt...distant and memorialized. thinkin' all love ever does is break, and burn, and end...like the emotions encased themselves in amber. at some point, it became it's time to go - fifteen years, fifteen million tears...that old familiar body ache, the snaps from the same little breaks in my soul. sometimes it still does creep up on me and knock me back, but more often there's a terrible numbness to it. it felt like saying goodbye, really saying goodbye this time, and it hurt, and I didn't want that, but I don't know what else could I have done rather then complete separation. yeah. the separation is protective, but it's still a real sorrow and a loss. i'm trying to believe someday it will shift, and something warmer and brighter in it will come back to me, but even if it doesn't, i know all the words that i wrote and love that i expressed was true and still has worth and still resides in me, even if i have to keep it differently.

there are reminders of him around me - the journal on my desk, his little plush, etc - and that's meaningful, i'm glad i have them, and i keep him and the valuable parts of the show embedded here on my blog to prevent losing that altogether, but it's like there's a mourning veil around it.

thank you for sharing and feeling safe enough to tell me this, i understand more than i can say and i love you too. i'm hugging you so tightly from afar. 🖤🖤🖤

#snowstormserenade #letterbox #every time i write about this now it feels like a eulogy and an exorcism #dean feelings #bubble wrap around my heart #spn for ts

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slime-quest · 1 year

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You tell the others to wait up, and run over to the doctor’s house. You knock, but there’s no answer. You carefully fold up their cloak and lay it neatly in front of the door. It feels a little sad to be leaving it behind, especially with no note of thanks, but you don’t really need it anymore.

The group of you clambers into the box and it begins to ascend the cables. Thick fluffy clouds drift lazily underneath you. Too thick to see beneath.

“So…”

“Hm?”

“The void king… tell me about them. I’m new to… everything, and I’m not sure what to think of them.” You decide to keep it to yourself that the void king is the one who murdered you, at least for now.

“They’re the center of our people,” says the taller one, leaning lazily against the side of the gondola, “The serene calm of the placid storm of void. The eye, if you will, or perhaps the heart. It’s difficult to compare it to terms that make sense to mortals.

“They give us purpose, a reason to exist. They lead and protect us. Without their guiding song, we would be hopelessly lost.”

“Are all voidkin connected to the king like you guys?” you ask.

“Not necessarily,” the headlamp void says, “Voidkin need a thing or idea to follow. A lot of us follow the voidking. Some of us find something else. Some find nothing and vanish.”

“Where do they go, if they’re not here?”

“Here, and also, not,” the taller one says unhelpfully, “They’ll drift in their own emptiness until they chance upon a purpose again.”

“That sounds pretty awful..”

“I wouldn’t know,” they shrug, “I’ve never been detached from a king.”

“What about the goddess? I heard the voidking was somehow involved with her death.”

They stare at you for a moment. “Gods don’t exist, what are you talking about?”

“Quit bugging them,” the guard snaps at you, and his hat falls over his face, “They don’t need you pestering them the whole way to the station.”

You look over and see the eager slime doing a silly dance. They stop as soon as you see them, acting like they weren’t doing anything at all.

Humphrey ## masterful…. ##

You start dancing in support of your new slime friend. They watch you for a moment and then join in. Your collaborative efforts earn you both 40 silly points. You have one ticket and 45 points now.

"So, what's your name? What are you headed to the station for?" you ask as your dance comes to an end.

"I'm Tricky! I've never been to the station, and I wanted to see if I could find adventure in the world! The station seemed like a good place to start."

"Oh, how's that?"

"Not a lot of new people come to visit Hyther, but the ones that do have stories to tell. I've always been fascinated by their tales. I've lived there for probably a hundred or so years, and realized that nothing exciting is ever going to happen to me if I just stay put. So I worked hard and saved up to afford some traveling gear, and am determined to find some real adventure out there! The station connects to every other part of the world, so if I start there I'll be spoiled for choice on where to start my journey." They finish their spiel with a glitter in their eyes.

"Golly, sounds like you're already well on your way!" you giggle. You can't help but be charmed by their enthusiasm.

You pause for a moment, wondering if it would be rude to ask, but decide it would be best to find out for sure. "Hey, remember how I said I'm looking for more of my missing pieces? You wouldn't happen to be one of them would you?"

They stare at you, a faint blush emerging on their face. "O-oh, w-well I... I don't think I'm the one you're looking for. You seem very nice tho, m-maybe if we get to know each other better first?"

"A-ah." you blush a little too, "Yeah, I guess so, maybe. Thanks anyway!" It doesn't seem like they understood what you meant, and probably aren't one of your fragmented cores. Also you think maybe you just agreed to a date with Tricky sometime in the future??

You can see a massive chunk of the world emerge through the clouds as your little box in the sky draws closer to it.

#slimequest #intermission 1

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self-loving-vampire · 1 year

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I _have_ read Tsukihime so the whole "dashboard osmosis" stuff clearly doesn't apply to me, but I will say that it's been delightful to watch someone get super into the thing my old internet community was obsessed with way back in '08. (And ego gratifying to see you get imprint on the character I imprinted on, lol.)

I will never be the same after the Kohaku Incident on April 5th of 2022 (the date I started reading Tsukihime).

Spoilers under cut, also it gets kind of heavy/disturbing.

But really... Tsukihime puts this character in front of me and tells me "This girl has grown up being very overtly treated as an object by an abusive strict father type who is violent and prone to rages. She copes with pain by detaching herself from her emotions and has ceased to feel like a human. In her youth she had largely resigned herself to her fate and mostly just existed in an empty sort of way, her hope kept painfully alive only by people who seemed so far away they might as well be in a different world.

In an effort to free herself from the abuse she became good at lying, concealed her true self, and developed a manipulative personality that she used against her abusers, using them all in a long-term secret plan that kept her going even though she was otherwise too hurt to see much of a reason to live.

This disconnect from her emotions and need to lie constantly just to survive has also worn her down mentally to the point where she has some identity issues and also sometimes doubts that some of her feelings are real or an act for some other purpose.

Despite how she was mistreated and the lasting damage of it, she does not even hate her abuser and simply feels a kind of indifference towards him to the point where most of the people around her seem to have stronger emotions about him than she does. Also, several moments she has suggest that her affective empathy is impaired and--"

Then I am going to start noticing some parallels relevant to my own life.

I mean, this is an actual mid-2010s skype message exchange between master (top message) and me. It probably looks a bit disturbing out of context, and self-hypnosis was also involved, but...

So obviously all aspects of Kohaku's coping methods feel extremely real to me. From dissociation to emotional shutdown to literally conditioning yourself into thinking you are just a doll rather than a human because that is less painful. I felt very understood when I realized what her deal was. I may have even felt empathy for her (or it might just be projection).

At the same time though, I think she resembles "past me" much more closely than my current self. I already went and got my Good End and have the love and support of my master, so I'm not that concerning anymore even if I still seem to be dissociating a lot.

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natalyarose · 6 months

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An Emo lookin 'diary entry' 🥀😩

My day to day life is plagued by the overwhelming surge of desire to be told who I am. The urge to have some wise and weathered soul sit in front of me and tell me exactly who I am, how I come across, what's wrong with me, what's right with me, what I need...

I don't know what it is that makes me this way. Always feeling somehow lost, or like I doubt any of my thoughts and feelings are significant or even real when there's nobody external to show evident materialisation of them. Like, without an external witness to my madness, how is who I am anything more than an internal sea of dreams, delusion and floating concepts?

I could dress any way I like, say whatever I like, feel however I nurture my being to feel- so what proof do I have that a single thing I do is authentic? I hate that it feels like as though the song of my existance is evolving into one of apathy, emptiness and confusion, when I know deep down I'm someone full of emotion, wonder and vibrancy.

Self-derealization might feel worse than self destruction in some ways, having travelled some on both paths.

The level of detachment I feel sometimes feels dangerous and torturous. Very confusing too- I seem to feel everything, yet nothing.

It's not that I don't know who I am, in fact I think I know myself better than most- I just doubt reality for no good reason. I'm always dazed and confused about everything, when the people in front of me seem as real as giant, red apples falling on your head. Although, even that wouldn't feel real anymore.

I try to find something to cling to, to ground me, only to find myself laughing in the face of it, then there goes any hope from building up my long ago fallen tower.

People call me many sweet things- fairy-like, wise, 'beautiful', unique, strong, childlike, motherly, otherworldly.

Free-spirited, perceptive, shy, sensitive, kind, 'talented'... I'm sure there's some less flattering adjectives floating around too-

'Off with the fairies', unpredictable, weak-minded, over-sensitive, messy, neurotic, impulsive, ungrounded. I can recognise these things in me, I can see how that is objectively me- yet I can't take it seriously, I can't seem to stabilise myself in that vision. What do any of those things even mean? What gravity does it hold? Who says I can't just wake up tomorrow and be the opposite of those things??

Ugh, I think I'm losing my mind. Every year I fall further and further down the rabbit hole.

I miss a time where things made sense. Where things just were what they were. The artist in me loathes this shockingly ambiguous understanding of reality I've fallen into. How can I write about my broken heart when it doesn't feel real or relevant to even myself? How can I draw a beautiful picture when I doubt what on Earth that even means? I'm aching to feel again in the way I used to.

Am I broken?

I miss simplicity.

'What is wrong with me?'

#itsnotaphase #emo #rawrxd #420guccigang #420blazeit #tumblrdiary #diary #writing #reflecting #soupandbutterybreadbewildin #lalala

#Spotify

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stxargazerofsun · 7 months

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I feel like my heart is both full and empty. empty in the way there's nothing in it, no one to take care of it, like a house without an occupant. the house that is covered with layers and layers of dirt, no rays of sunshine landing on its covered furniture. the house that is most of the time lost and hurt. but at the same time it feels so full, so full of love because I never gave mine to anyone, so it's piling up now, more and more inside of it. it's so filled that it's overflowing, on the verge of spilling everything that it has stored in it. be it the deep sorrows that i hid even from myself or the tears I never let out of my ocean to form a stream through my cheeks, my ocean, that is so cold now, feels like a glacier. be it the selfless love i have in me that i never found the right person to give it to. be it the happiness i sometimes felt but gulped it with a shadow of lopsided smile because that early teen girl was made feel like it would be childish to jump because you're happy.

because the love never got to seep through and make it out of it, hate did. it felt like a jar with dirty water inside which is of no use but the lid of that jar is stuck and you cherish the jar so you keep it. even with the useless dirty water inside. It's just kept secretly and no one except you knows about it because you cherish that jar but there's everything gross inside so it wouldn't make sense to anyone else to keep it with yourself. And then you start feeling like that too. what is the reason for you to keep it anymore?

the doubt has started by i hope, dearly, that before you give up on it some sort of magic happens and the stuck lid detaches itself from it and the water that's dirty grows a flower in it. A flower so beautiful you can't keep your eyes away from it. Now, that you have found a reason to keep it with you, it has decided to not leave your side and because some sort of magic took place, the flower, prettiest you've ever seen, has some unfathomable strength that's protecting it. you don't know what it is but no storm, no amount of dryness could hurt it. it's dedication to be with you soars inside you and you feel so complete. But then you realise that someday it might lose its colours or someone could pluck it out and take it with them, you know that it is inevitable so you've decided that everytime the flower is gone. You'll wait for the magic to happen again and wait for another flower, that's different from this one, to grow again to heal the stem of it, the jar and the dirt of that water which now sits down in its deepest end.

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myinnerchildletters · 10 months

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7/4/2023: Letters to and From School-age Child

Dear K,

I'm a little worried about the way that the things that have been going on at home with your parents and sister are affecting you. Can you tell me how you're feeling? You can be honest--they're not going to find out, and even if they did, they can't do anything at this point. It's OK to open the box and let your feelings out.

Love,

The Fairy Queen

---

Dear Fairy Queen,

I feel really alone all the time. I'm so isolated. I don't know what family means. It means...nothing to me, I guess. I'm so detached from that word. I was thinking recently that I feel so separate from it, like I'm not part of it. It's like a vague greyness.

I'm tired all the time, too. I'm so lazy and stupid and don't want to do anything. Mom and Dad think I'm just lazy, and that's true, but I have no energy to do anything anymore. I want to lie in bed all the time, and it's SO unhealthy and bad for me.

I HATE "going places" every weekend, and I hate that my mom calls it that stupid name, like it's just something fun and ordinary. I HATE it. I feel so anxious and sick to my stomach. I literally wake up early and just read and try to get my mind off it, but it doesn't work.

I wish Mom and Dad would listen to me once in a while. They think I'm bratty, which I am, but I'm so tired and miserable. I mean, I hate "going places," and yet they think I'm supposed to be happy about it? They KNOW I don't like it, but they drag me everywhere anyway. I hate it.

And I'm so nervous and get anxious easily. I don't even know WHY. It just happens. I think I have an anxiety disorder. Sometimes, I think I have health problems. Mom and Dad say I'm just freaking out, but I'm not! It's real!

Nobody ever pays attention to me, either. I'm just alone. I feel empty inside, and sometimes things feel like they aren't real? It just happens out of nowhere. I just blink, and--boom. It's like I'm looking at the world through a TV screen. It's scary. I notice that it gets worse when I'm playing my Gameboy for so reason.

I'm so tired. I wish I could start over. Nothing feels good anymore. I told my online friend Alisha that I feel like I don't have anything to look forward to. I'm scared about the future and going to high school, too.

I just feel really sick and tired and want to cry and scream at my parents, but I can't do that. Nothing feels right. I don't know. I don't feel right. What's going on with me? Am I going crazy?

Love,

---

Dear K,

So, you have childhood depression and anxiety. I didn't get diagnosed until I was an adult, but you tick off all the boxes. You're also experiencing something called "dissociation." When you feel like everything's not real, that's your brain trying to escape reality because of stress.

Daydreaming is a form of dissociation. You've done that, right? That's when you're "taking a break" from reality. However, what's happening now is your brain trying to escape the stress that you're under.

I get that you're under a lot of stress at home and at school and have worries about the future. That's why your brain behaves the way it does. Weirdly, it's trying to protect you, but it's not really helping us, is it?

Anyway, there's nothing wrong with you, and you're not going crazy. Millions of people have depression and anxiety that started in mid-childhood, and plenty of other people dissociate, especially when they're under stress.

I hope that helped explain some things for you!

Love,

The Fairy Queen

#school age #letter

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