Battered and Broken

This is a Dirk Strider RP blog, for the AU Dominationstuck. This will be NSFW and not always Read More'd enter at your own discretion.

[tawedtestified-blog]

> You see the flash of metal moving towards your face and flinch back, your heart jumping to beating at a million times a minute for a few seconds before you realize she was doing it just to mess with you. You let out a sigh, just happy that she wasn’t hitting you for real. You were all too familiar as to what that metal arm felt like when it collided with your face. You hear her giggle and nervously smile. While she almost gave you a heart attack and scared the shit out of you, you at least managed to coax a giggle out of her.

> You recollect yourself and start to calm down, taking a few deep breaths. You had finished, and at least that proved that it worked well, however cruel the joke might have been. You clear up the rest of your workbench and stand, dusting yourself off. Still a bit shaken from her joke, even after attempting to calm your nerves.

“Right…glad you like it.”

> You didn’t think he’d smile back, but it can’t take away the enjoyment of seeing the sheer terror on Dirk’s face. You wish you grabbed your phone out just to capture the moment and look back at it when you’re in the need for a good laugh. At the same time, you think about how easy it could’ve been to shatter Dirk’s jaw if you didn’t stop. That elicits yet another laugh as your metal arm falls to your side.

“Good work, I’ll have to say. I’m sure I’ll put it into better use soon!”

> Not one word of comfort given to the Strider, but at least you can acknowledge the fact he made your arm better. No one can say you weren’t grateful.

“Since that’s done, I’ll finally be heading back now.”

[capurre]

> You hate to think that she has to leave, but you knew there was nothing else you could really do for her. If you had your way, she could live at your house, no matter how abusive she was, you wouldn’t get tired of her company. However, you  knew that it wasn’t realistic, and was even a little creepy. You let a long sigh and nod.

“I can’t do much else for you right now, but please come back if you need anything.”

> You say, your eyes silently begging for another reason to have her stay or return, although you personally felt that there was no reason anymore. You were like a lost puppy now, sad without it’s owner, no matter how bad the abuse got.

[capurre]

capurre:

“Alright, alright. Just come over when you decide to paint your arm, so I can seal the gaps so the blood doesn’t drip in or anything and gunk up the servos.”

> You finish up the last few parts, patting her arm a couple times as you set aside the tools. You put the paint back and wipe your hands off with a rag to get most of the cleaning agent off, before going to the method of brushing them on your pants.

“Should be a little easier to fight with, and won’t take as much damage on the inside when you take hits to the arm.”

“Aight.”

> With the topic of paint closed, you check back at your arm. It seems like he’s done, to which you twiddle your mechanical fingers. Then you get up and start flexing your upgraded arm. Is everything functioning as should? Seems so.

“Heh. Nice. I feel sorry for the next sucker I gotta fight.”

> You pause and hum in thought. Now flexing it over and over won’t really show you the most of it’s capabilities. If you’re going to make sure you didn’t just waste your time on Dirk, you had to put your arm to the test. Without a moment warning, you form a fist and send it straight upwards toward’s Dirk’s head. However, you kept control of it and made sure it stopped right before it even touches his chin, ensuring no real harm would be done but it’d just mess with him. Will he flinch? Scream like a child? Both? Each would be a humorous reaction.

“Works fine so far! Waddya think?”

> You keep your fist close for a few seconds before pulling back, snickering. Probably the only semblance of positive emotions ever since you walked in. It was so worth it.

[tawedtestified-blog]

> You see the flash of metal moving towards your face and flinch back, your heart jumping to beating at a million times a minute for a few seconds before you realize she was doing it just to mess with you. You let out a sigh, just happy that she wasn't hitting you for real. You were all too familiar as to what that metal arm felt like when it collided with your face. You hear her giggle and nervously smile. While she almost gave you a heart attack and scared the shit out of you, you at least managed to coax a giggle out of her.

> You recollect yourself and start to calm down, taking a few deep breaths. You had finished, and at least that proved that it worked well, however cruel the joke might have been. You clear up the rest of your workbench and stand, dusting yourself off. Still a bit shaken from her joke, even after attempting to calm your nerves.

"Right...glad you like it."

[capurre]

> You look at your paints and shake your head. None of the ones you used were toxic, especially with how much time you spent in here alone, you didn’t need to be gassing yourself all the time while you worked. You knew a lot of spray paint and other chemicals were toxic, especially in human made paint.

“Human paints aren’t made with blood or anything, some of the stuff has chemicals in it that can make you really sick or fuck up your brain. Most of the stuff I have here is safe, since I work in a closed space.” 

> You grab a can and turn it over to the ingredients, showing all the chemicals that were even in the non-toxic paint that you had. You knew that Nep and her alternates would paint stuff with blood, but you didn’t know that they actually didn’t make their own paint at all.

“They.. don’t? Then I don’t wanna know what is in their paint! Paint on Alternia is way more safer! You can even eat that shit if you wanted to and it won’t rot your pan.”

> Humans are strange. It’s against their social code to murder without cause, so instead of using blood for paint, they’d make it out of artificial chemicals. Dirk says his paints are “safe”, but from your understanding, it’s the contrary. 

“Yeah.. I’m sure it is pretty safe. I still say mine’s better.”

[capurre]

“Alright, alright. Just come over when you decide to paint your arm, so I can seal the gaps so the blood doesn’t drip in or anything and gunk up the servos.”

> You finish up the last few parts, patting her arm a couple times as you set aside the tools. You put the paint back and wipe your hands off with a rag to get most of the cleaning agent off, before going to the method of brushing them on your pants.

“Should be a little easier to fight with, and won’t take as much damage on the inside when you take hits to the arm.”

[capurre]

> You nod, plating the arm with a compound of metals that would make it a lightly lighter, but more flexible and durable. It wouldn’t dent as easily, and would absorb some shock from any blows it took to protect the important bits on the inside. You glance at the cans of paint toward the end of the table.

“Alright, if you decide to color it later, ask me for the paint. You have to be careful so it doesn’t seep in, and obviously you don’t want toxic chemicals to be on your arm at all times.”

> You didn’t pay much notice to the cans of paint. Perhaps when you felt like it, you can come around again bringing your own paintbrush to make more intricate designs on the silvery white metal.

“Toxic?” Your brow perks up at the mention of the word. The paints you knew of were made with real lusus or troll blood. Sure it came with a rancid smell sometimes, but you doubt it was poisonous. “What kinda paints are you using? You sure that shit belongs on anything?”

> You might as have dodged a bullet without knowing.

[capurre]

> You look at your paints and shake your head. None of the ones you used were toxic, especially with how much time you spent in here alone, you didn’t need to be gassing yourself all the time while you worked. You knew a lot of spray paint and other chemicals were toxic, especially in human made paint.

“Human paints aren’t made with blood or anything, some of the stuff has chemicals in it that can make you really sick or fuck up your brain. Most of the stuff I have here is safe, since I work in a closed space.” 

> You grab a can and turn it over to the ingredients, showing all the chemicals that were even in the non-toxic paint that you had. You knew that Nep and her alternates would paint stuff with blood, but you didn’t know that they actually didn’t make their own paint at all.

[capurre]

> You wouldn’t be able to see it on your own, as most of the deeper parts were a blur, but following her finger you easily find the power cell and pull it out. Apparently after her fight it had been damaged, as there was a small leak that was starting to eat through the inside of her metal arm.

>You put the battery aside and make sure there are no exposed circuits, and wash out her arm with a neutralizing agent to make sure the acid from the battery doesn’t chew through any of the new metal you were going to put on. You replace the parts with newer, stronger pieces of metal, and replace the battery with one that has a longer life.

“Do you have a preference for color on the outside?”

> You wouldn’t have known about the leak at all, let alone find it a possibility. Perhaps while Dirk is a lousy kismesis and overall a horrible person, he might have his uses. Thanks to him, you wouldn’t be walking around with a faulty arm.

“Keep it silver. It doesn’t have to look that special. I just want it to be functional.”

> It would be tempting to have it in a pastel pink or green color, it’s the aesthetic you chose to obsess with after all. But it seems a tad unnecessary when you only asked for something durable. You can always get it decorated later.

[capurre]

> You nod, plating the arm with a compound of metals that would make it a lightly lighter, but more flexible and durable. It wouldn’t dent as easily, and would absorb some shock from any blows it took to protect the important bits on the inside. You glance at the cans of paint toward the end of the table.

“Alright, if you decide to color it later, ask me for the paint. You have to be careful so it doesn’t seep in, and obviously you don’t want toxic chemicals to be on your arm at all times.”

[capurre]

> You nod as you enter the shop and clear the table for space. You pull her up a chair and lay her arm out on the table as you manage to open up the hard outside to take a look at the servos and crossbeams that lined the inside. You take some parts out, but once you get deeper you start needing her help.

“There should be one last power cell in here, it should look kind of like a medium sized battery. It might be time you changed it out anyways. They are only good for about a year or so, less if they get damaged and leak, tell me if I am getting close.”

> The directions are pretty obvious without needing to be said. You sit yourself down and lay out your arm on the table for his inspection. It’s just like a trip to the doctors, except you won’t feel pain once Dirk splits your mechanical arm apart. 

> The only downside is you don’t have that much understanding on mechanical parts. But Dirk elaborates on some of the stuff, good for him. You then realize, however, that you can’t keep yourself distracted long. You need to be his eyes while he meticulously removes certain parts from the fake limb.

“Is it that thing?” 

> You point at a cylinder object, which is akin to a battery, so it must be the power cell he mentioned. You may be the eyes, but he has the brains, as much as you hate to admit it, when it comes to robots.

[capurre]

> You wouldn’t be able to see it on your own, as most of the deeper parts were a blur, but following her finger you easily find the power cell and pull it out. Apparently after her fight it had been damaged, as there was a small leak that was starting to eat through the inside of her metal arm.

>You put the battery aside and make sure there are no exposed circuits, and wash out her arm with a neutralizing agent to make sure the acid from the battery doesn’t chew through any of the new metal you were going to put on. You replace the parts with newer, stronger pieces of metal, and replace the battery with one that has a longer life.

“Do you have a preference for color on the outside?”

[tawedtestified-blog]

“Alright, can you come to my workshop?” 

> You ask, standing and slowly making your way to a door on the far side of the room. You wouldn’t be able to make her arm more sturdy unless you could completely take it apart, but it shouldn’t take so long with her help. At least you got out of the awkward situation.

“If you want me to make it a bit more durable, I will totally have to take apart the arm and exchange some metal and parts.” 

> You nod while taking another sip of your soda. You lift yourself up and from this point on, you need to follow his lead. You haven’t been familiar to every nook and cranny of his house for months, so it’ll take you a while to remember where his workshop was placed.

“Just make sure you’re doing your job and not some suspicious shit, aight?”

> The storm may have calmed, but your paranoia has not. Giving him the opportunity to dismantle your robot arm is nothing but a huge risk. Dirk would definitely take advantage of that because you called him out, but he should also remember you have another arm, while not as strong, can and already has packed a punch on him.

[capurre]

> You nod as you enter the shop and clear the table for space. You pull her up a chair and lay her arm out on the table as you manage to open up the hard outside to take a look at the servos and crossbeams that lined the inside. You take some parts out, but once you get deeper you start needing her help.

“There should be one last power cell in here, it should look kind of like a medium sized battery. It might be time you changed it out anyways. They are only good for about a year or so, less if they get damaged and leak, tell me if I am getting close.”

[capurre]

“I hope so. Do you need a back rub? Any help with your arm or anything like that? I can’t do well on my own, but if you kind of help me with your eyes, I would be able to do maintenance on it.”

> You feel a little panicked. Her statement was once again making you feel useless, so you would do anything you could to at least do something helpful or nice. Even if it was as simple or stupid as giving her a massage. You didn’t want to be useless anymore, but you didn’t want to bother her either. Maybe you should be alone.

“I am sorry, if none of those sound good to you, you can leave…unless you can think of something. I don’t want to bother you anymore so you don’t have to worry about any messages.”

[capurre]

> A back rub? Hell no. You don’t want anyone, especially Dirk’s filthy hands touching you. Apart from that, your back is where all your worst scars are. He’s already seen the scar that says “whore”, but if the image is fresh on his mind again, then you’ll be at equal footing when it comes to being degraded.

> But you can let him look at your arm, no harm in that. It should probably be check up upon after your fight with Gamzee. If anything, you’d want it to be more powerful to compensate for the muscle lost in your other arm.

“Yeah, you can fix up my arm a bit. I got in a tussle a while ago, so it might need it. Maybe make it more durable so it can’t break or dent so easily.”

[tawedtestified-blog]

“Alright, can you come to my workshop?” 

> You ask, standing and slowly making your way to a door on the far side of the room. You wouldn’t be able to make her arm more sturdy unless you could completely take it apart, but it shouldn’t take so long with her help. At least you got out of the awkward situation.

“If you want me to make it a bit more durable, I will totally have to take apart the arm and exchange some metal and parts.” 

[capurre]

> You grab her a soda and close the fridge, making your way over to the couch and carefully sitting on the other side of it after handing her the soda she requested. You fumble for the remote and turn on the television, unsure of what else to do. You felt so awkward, and had no idea of anything to say or do for her.

> You couldn’t even think of something to say to someone you had known for quite awhile, you couldn’t help but think of how useless you would be at real interaction. She was here, and that made you content enough, even if her tone and attitude was colder than the fridge you just got her drink out of. You just assumed that if she needed something she would openly voice it easily enough.

> You grab the soda and twist the tab open. The sharp hiss of carbonation has become routine for you from chugging those juggalo drinks in your confinement. As such, you nonchalantly gulp down the drink as the television turns on in the background.

> Funny how when you came in, the atmosphere was filled with violence and cursing out. The red bloodstains on the floor are evidence of it, which contradict the surprising tranquility of the present. In fact, the calm between you and Dirk is a bit nostalgic, taking you to the past when you’d laze around on this same couch while he focused on his video games. Strange times it was, back when you had no worries and felt comfortable in anyone’s presence. How foolish you used to be.

> For what it’s worth, this silence is nice. It pleases you more than Dirk’s wimpy, fake apologies. You still doubt that he’s sorry, but him shutting his mouth and giving your a drink can make up for it. Yet, the longer you stay here, the more you fear that you’re being used again, as if staying here is only for his benefit.

“This is getting awkward, man. I don’t feel like yelling at you now. There any way you can make yourself useful so I don’t have to leave?”

[capurre]

“I hope so. Do you need a back rub? Any help with your arm or anything like that? I can’t do well on my own, but if you kind of help me with your eyes, I would be able to do maintenance on it.”

> You feel a little panicked. Her statement was once again making you feel useless, so you would do anything you could to at least do something helpful or nice. Even if it was as simple or stupid as giving her a massage. You didn’t want to be useless anymore, but you didn’t want to bother her either. Maybe you should be alone.

“I am sorry, if none of those sound good to you, you can leave...unless you can think of something. I don’t want to bother you anymore so you don’t have to worry about any messages.”

[capurre]

 > You sigh and look around awkwardly. If she wasn’t going to hit you, you weren’t sure why else she would stay. You weren’t going to complain though, and you figured she would have left if there really wasn’t anything more to do. You knew she had you wrapped around her middle finger so so to speak, but at this point, you were glad to have any interaction at all.

> You decide on picking up the soda she tossed down, and put it into the garbage, going to the fridge. You grab one for yourself before looking back at her, pursing your lips in thought before you ask her anything You shrug and decide you might as well.

“Do you want another drink or something?”

> You came here to give a beating. There really is no other reason to stay. You suppose for some reason, hearing him pathetically pleading for your stay was satisfying. Strange since you could care less for his feelings, but you’ll take it over being told to “fuck off”.

> You almost feel like you’re important to someone. What a laugh. A worthless disgrace important to another disgrace. You two must be quite a catch.

“I want a soda.”

> You say in a flat, disinterested tone. He can make his snarky Makara comparisons all he wants because of that comment, you’re just hoping he’s wise enough to keep it to himself for a change.

[capurre]

> You grab her a soda and close the fridge, making your way over to the couch and carefully sitting on the other side of it after handing her the soda she requested. You fumble for the remote and turn on the television, unsure of what else to do. You felt so awkward, and had no idea of anything to say or do for her.

> You couldn’t even think of something to say to someone you had known for quite awhile, you couldn’t help but think of how useless you would be at real interaction. She was here, and that made you content enough, even if her tone and attitude was colder than the fridge you just got her drink out of. You just assumed that if she needed something she would openly voice it easily enough.

[capurre]

> You quickly nod, re-affirming your previous answer. You really did not want her to leave you alone. It felt horrible, being trapped in your own house with nobody to speak to and nothing to console you. You couldn’t even build anything correctly to take your mind off of things anymore because of how uncoordinated you became when you lost your eye. You really didn’t understand how people did it.

“Please stay. I don’t care what you do to me, just don’t leave.”

> You quietly replied. Who knows, maybe she would be less harsh now that she got most of her hatred out of her. You wouldn’t mind doing menial tasks for her like grabbing drinks, listening to her problems or anything along those lines, but you were willing to take any beatings or down-talk if it made her feel better. While you didn’t know much about her recent life, you did know that she had been through a lot of troubles.

> Stay, he requests, stay, you shall. But are you going to end up pouring your problems, relationships, or Messiahs forbid, mommy issues onto him? Of course not. He doesn’t deserve to know a thing about you, other than being an ex. You already unloaded what was necessary, in the form of belittlement and punches, that’s more than enough. 

“I ain’t gonna hit you again, you can chill now.”

> So you return to his couch, at the exact spot you once sat. It’s still warm after all those minutes passed, what a treat. You lift your legs up and draw hem up to your chest as you contemplate your next move. You’re hoping he doesn’t do anything to elicit a violent reaction, but you’ll bite your tongue.

[capurre]

 > You sigh and look around awkwardly. If she wasn’t going to hit you, you weren’t sure why else she would stay. You weren’t going to complain though, and you figured she would have left if there really wasn’t anything more to do. You knew she had you wrapped around her middle finger so so to speak, but at this point, you were glad to have any interaction at all.

> You decide on picking up the soda she tossed down, and put it into the garbage, going to the fridge. You grab one for yourself before looking back at her, pursing your lips in thought before you ask her anything You shrug and decide you might as well.

“Do you want another drink or something?”

[tawedtestified-blog]

> You feel a confused sense of relief wash over you as she does not reach for the door and nod. You figured you owed her too much now to cause her any more grief. After all, she could have let you die last time, and instead she took you to care. She was all you had, even if this was by far the most abusive ‘relationship’ you would ever be in, you were happy to at least have something. You could not be picky anymore.

> You give a solemn look towards her one last time, averting your gaze after a second.You had to respect her wishes, otherwise she would leave you all alone. You weren’t sure what to call this, but if she was satisfied, so were you. As long as you could help someone in your pathetic life, you would be content with serving that one purpose. Even if it was just an outlet for whatever problems she went through.

“Alright, I got it Nep.”

> The irony plagues you. All you’ve wanted as company for the past perigees was your mate, and if you were desperate enough, some motherly guidance, either one to comfort you and help you heal from your trauma. Instead, the only one who’s latched onto you after all these years is a sniveling human who you have no romantic feelings for or any interest in rekindling a relationship with. This is how low you’ve sunken, this is what a disgrace to the Leijon name is left to deal with.

> But you’re glad for one thing. Control. When Gamzee beat you in your own cell, you couldn’t make him leave or stop hurting you physically or mentally. When you slapped Kurloz’s hand away because you didn’t want him to touch you, he voodoo’ed you so you couldn’t move a muscle or talk back. But when Dirk disrespects you, he doesn’t try to stop you from breaking in and breaking a few of his bones. Not only that, but when you tell him to accept responsibility, he agrees and accepts the blame. You’re not the weakling, you’re not breaking down and crying on the floor, you took control of this situation to how you saw fit. And people said you just let everyone walk all over you. Now look.

“Good. Hope to see some improvement later on.”

> Now that you got that out of the way, do you really have a purpose in staying around? You look at the door again, poised to leave. But what if you miss out on something.

“Question. You really want me to stay? Couldn’t tell if you were serious and.. to be frank, I got nothing else to say to you.”

[capurre]

> You quickly nod, re-affirming your previous answer. You really did not want her to leave you alone. It felt horrible, being trapped in your own house with nobody to speak to and nothing to console you. You couldn’t even build anything correctly to take your mind off of things anymore because of how uncoordinated you became when you lost your eye. You really didn’t understand how people did it.

“Please stay. I don’t care what you do to me, just don’t leave.”

> You quietly replied. Who knows, maybe she would be less harsh now that she got most of her hatred out of her. You wouldn’t mind doing menial tasks for her like grabbing drinks, listening to her problems or anything along those lines, but you were willing to take any beatings or down-talk if it made her feel better. While you didn’t know much about her recent life, you did know that she had been through a lot of troubles.

[capurre]

> You had her where you wanted her, leaving your house, but her final words pained your heart. She was right, even if she did treat you like shit, at least it was someone thinking about you or caring about you, even if it was complete annoyance and malice. Otherwise you had nothing, you were alone and useless. At least you served some sort of purpose or could feel like you were helping her in some way.

> Your eyes get wet with tears, but you don’t cry. You swallow the remains of your pride as you quietly shake your head. You didn’t want her to leave. You needed anything, even if it was just beating after beating, at least you weren’t alone. You served some purpose, whether it be a punching bag or a rage dump for her, at least you were making someone happy, in whatever way a broken human like you could.

“W-wait…you can stay. I’m sorry.”

[capurre]

> There he goes, cue the waterworks. Poor Dirk, woe is him, how life must be so hard for him. You can’t say you didn’t intend your words to guilt him, but to you they posed some truth. Who else did Strider interact with? You know he had you as a kismesis, but did he seek other romantic endeavors? Or close friendships? You doubt so. So it’s makes sense that his life would be dull and meaningless if you permanently cut ties with him.

> Maybe that’s why he never leaves you alone.

“Oh, stop that sniveling. The real reason why I didn’t wanna leave so soon is because once I do, you’re going to bitch and moan like you’re the sad, sad victim! You’re a fucking coward. That’s how I know.”

> You were close to the door, but instead of opening it, you just kinda lean to the wall next to it. You have to keep it firm with him or else it’ll turn out like another Tavros. Knowing Dirk, he’ll probably even use his blindness to gain sympathy.

“And don’t think I won’t know. If I find out you didn’t learn a thing from all this, I’ll take that useless eye out of your socket. Are we clear? Do you understand?”

[tawedtestified-blog]

> You feel a confused sense of relief wash over you as she does not reach for the door and nod. You figured you owed her too much now to cause her any more grief. After all, she could have let you die last time, and instead she took you to care. She was all you had, even if this was by far the most abusive ‘relationship’ you would ever be in, you were happy to at least have something. You could not be picky anymore.

> You give a solemn look towards her one last time, averting your gaze after a second.You had to respect her wishes, otherwise she would leave you all alone. You weren’t sure what to call this, but if she was satisfied, so were you. As long as you could help someone in your pathetic life, you would be content with serving that one purpose. Even if it was just an outlet for whatever problems she went through.

“Alright, I got it Nep.”

[tawedtestified-blog]

“If I am such a bother, leave.”

> You had plenty of time to think this time, and were ready to try and get her out. You figured if she stayed, it would only get worse anyways. If you could get her to storm out, you might be able to finally come to terms with your shattered, burnt and obliterated relationship with her. You just wanted to be left alone so you might be able to rebuild some confidence or at least go to sleep and try to forget this ever happened.

> However, while she was here, you certainly felt like shit. You couldn’t deny that she had a point, but still, it was worth a shot of trying to kick her out. It seemed to have failed, as the small troll was apparently determined to make sure you knew how she felt. You had no idea how long this could go on for, but you hoped she got tired of it soon. At least she stopped hitting you or directly calling you names. You go to grab some booze from the fridge, if you got the chance to dull some of the aching pain you had, you would take it. Your previous pseudo-confident pose had been broken down, back to the slumped, defeated one, even as you popped open the bottle and began drinking as a reply.

“Better watch your fucking tone.”

> Grumbling, you toss the crumpled up soda can on the floor. Hope he doesn’t mind a bit of litter. You’re sick of being told what to do, especially by people who have done enough. With everyone else, you’re expected to be a good little girl. Disobey and you get beaten, or get your hair cut off, whichever suited them the most. 

“I didn’t kill your rude ass last time for personal reasons. But now I just don’t want the Crew getting on my bulge about it. If you piss me off enough, I can break those boundaries. ‘Cause someday I’ll have nothing left to lose. So I expect more gratitude coming from you!”

> You lift yourself up from the couch and dust yourself off. You’d say you felt exhausted, but that would imply a struggle took place. Afterwards, you cross your arms and turn towards the door. Perhaps you did overstay your welcome, it would’ve helped to not be asked in such a manner.

“If you finally want me out of your hair, then fine. Ain’t my loss. That’s what I’ve been trying to do in the fucking first place anyway. You’re gonna be stuck here alone without anyone else giving a shit about you. Ain’t my fucking problem.”

[capurre]

> You had her where you wanted her, leaving your house, but her final words pained your heart. She was right, even if she did treat you like shit, at least it was someone thinking about you or caring about you, even if it was complete annoyance and malice. Otherwise you had nothing, you were alone and useless. At least you served some sort of purpose or could feel like you were helping her in some way.

> Your eyes get wet with tears, but you don’t cry. You swallow the remains of your pride as you quietly shake your head. You didn’t want her to leave. You needed anything, even if it was just beating after beating, at least you weren’t alone. You served some purpose, whether it be a punching bag or a rage dump for her, at least you were making someone happy, in whatever way a broken human like you could.

“W-wait...you can stay. I’m sorry.”

[magatha-grimtotem]

The more I think about it the more I want a jacket or shirt with a bad UI printed all over it.

[sararasara]

old people: fallout 4 is going to be so bad it’s basically just an FPS now…why can’t the new fallouts be exactly like the old ones, which are perfect

fallout 1 and 2:

[capurre]

capurre:

> You ignore her and rush to your room, soon feeling afterwords that you may have made the wrong decision of not acknowledging her. Either way, you quickly don new clothes and come back out, looking at her. She has something in her hand, and after a moment of squinting, you note that it is some of your soda. Of course, she feels right at home now doesn’t she. At least she wasn’t calling you trash, even though you didn’t really like the tone or the attitude she had.

> You couldn’t help but mock her in the back of your mind, thinking that you would definitely be unimpressive against some of the bulges she took. Either way, you wouldn’t dare say anything about it out loud until she was long gone or you were somewhere safe. Still, you couldn’t help but wonder why she was still here.

“Can you leave? You really aren’t welcome here any more…” 

>You try to sound assertive, clearing your throat before you spoke and making sure your voice didn’t quiver anymore, yet your bruised body, along with the nervous shaking of your hands probably gave away any facade that might have been there of you being the one who gets to make those decisions at that point. Still, you wanted to give it a try, the faster she left, the faster you could be at peace.

> You take a swig of your drink as you try to erase the image of his weird human dick. A leg idly crosses another while he’s gone to redress. You haven’t moved from that one spot when he returns and make no intention of doing so until you feel like it. And if Dirk complains, then he’s a hypocrite and you’ll definitely not waste time to call him out for it.

“Gee, Dirk. If I remember right, didn’t I ask you to leave me the alone first?”

> After one last slurp, you crunch the empty soda can with the force of your hand. Dirk’s stubborn as always. Even when he’s battered and showing signs of nervousness to just approach you, he thinks he can have authority over you.

“Don’t recall you respecting my wishes. Why the hell else would I come here, idiot. It ain’t so nice now, huh?”

[tawedtestified-blog]

"If I am such a bother, leave."

> You had plenty of time to think this time, and were ready to try and get her out. You figured if she stayed, it would only get worse anyways. If you could get her to storm out, you might be able to finally come to terms with your shattered, burnt and obliterated relationship with her. You just wanted to be left alone so you might be able to rebuild some confidence or at least go to sleep and try to forget this ever happened.

> However, while she was here, you certainly felt like shit. You couldn't deny that she had a point, but still, it was worth a shot of trying to kick her out. It seemed to have failed, as the small troll was apparently determined to make sure you knew how she felt. You had no idea how long this could go on for, but you hoped she got tired of it soon. At least she stopped hitting you or directly calling you names. You go to grab some booze from the fridge, if you got the chance to dull some of the aching pain you had, you would take it. Your previous pseudo-confident pose had been broken down, back to the slumped, defeated one, even as you popped open the bottle and began drinking as a reply.