Triangulation Narcissist Novels & Stories

“You’re angry right now, but if I slip my hands into those pants of yours, I’d still find you wet, wouldn’t I? It doesn’t matter that your mother wants this to be real. You’re still turned on by her husband at the end of the day.” My cheeks went red out of embarrassment. Tristan might be annoying, but he was always right, which was why I took another step backward. “Whether I’m turned on or not doesn’t matter.” I spat out. “What matters is that we’re done.” I didn’t wait to hear his response before I rushed out of his office before I ended up making another bad decision. Tristan was a verified psychopath and I was going to lose myself if I kept up with him.

He'd simply recognized what eight months of confinement had already created a weapon so damaged that it would do anything to destroy the people who'd damaged it. "You're a narcissist," Dante said to Vittorio, not Isabella. "You think you're smarter than you are. You think studying me for years gave you insight into how I work. But you're missing the fundamental element." "Which is?" Vittorio asked, still smiling. "I have nothing to lose," Dante said. "I'm not trying to prove anything. I'm not trying to heal from trauma. I'm not trying to make someone love me. I'm just trying to protect my family and maintain my power. Everything else is secondary."

I said. “You’ve been sounding off since you walked in, Talia. If it’s because of what you saw, I want you to know that she means nothing to me, absolutely nothing. It was a one-time thing that won’t happen again.” A small smile played on my life as I stared at him. We both knew he was a pathological narcissist and a liar who didn’t mean anything he had just said. He’d probably promised the poor girl the whole world but here he was, treating her like scum to get on my good side. This was the kind of man he was and I knew that I had made the right decision.

—мой северный полюс —I say, catching her attention. —Yes? —You want to distract yourself, but not by torturing lab rats. —I'd rather stay like this a few more minutes —she whispers. Nefertary Serene Ibagon Ziegler is not a heartless monster. She just enjoys ignoring her emotions. She lies to herself, pretends... pretends to be something she is and at the same time, isn't. It's easy to figure out—impulsive, lacks empathy, but can form bonds like the one she had with her father, the one she has with me, and the one she's developing with Ludwig. She's impossible to ignore. Her emotional stability is a rollercoaster. She has trouble following rules and norms. It's pretty obvious her real diagnos

But at that moment I lost it. One thing about me. In reality, I was nothing like the person I had projected myself to her. For her I turned to quite a different person. This was me. A violent narcissist. At least that was one of the few words people usually used when referring to me. “You selfish woman! I have been the one who has been here for you from day one and he gets to have you? You use me anyhow you like and then throw me by the sides. No wonder Lucius.”

Right now, he can only entrust his instinct and his sharp observation that he relied on so many years chasing that jerk. J is always alone. He preferred to sit alone rather than sitting in a crowded place. Because of his narcissistic personality, J always felt his standing and views is different from normal people. Rather than calling those people friends or acquaintances, it more precise to call them insignificant objects. J didn't regard normal people as human, but rather a toy to demean, to play, and to torture. Even he(Ryan) served as J's favorite toy, and not as a police officer that tried to apprehend him.

Apparently not knowing what to do. Ynaria looked for something around the room, then she picked up the vase on top of the drawer. Slowly Ynaria walked towards where Trist was as its kept punching Paul in the face. Though Ynaria was trembling with fear, she bravely slapped the vase on Trist's mound. Trist quickly collapsed because of what she did, but she wasn't convinced Trist had fainted because she knew her could still commit a crime. So Ynaria hit the vase on Trist's head again.

He hates and gets all FAST AND FURIOUS when Zara hurts him unintentionally but doesn't feel shit when he hurts Zara intentionally. The tray is a controlling narcissistic asshole in the body of a handsome built man. Fuck! Maybe if he didn't look the way he looked Zara couldn't hold on to him that tight. Or maybe... Just maybe if she looked past his good looks and built body and instead opened her eyes to his ugly personality, she would leave him. But I know Zara. And I know she ain't leaving him any time soon. If she's ever leaving. I drove myself home and I'm finally here after fifteen minutes of driving.

I committed many atrocities all in the name of my so-called love fantasies for Tristan. Bad companies and Bad influence had messed with my head all through my life and had made me even more crazy, just the way I preferred it, but I had always been pretending to be the sweet angel in everyone else's eyes until now. I was soaked in the devil’s blood and could do anything to have what I wanted. Now I wanted Tristan and for good this time. Hazel was certainly not going to be a stumbling block in my way.

He doesn't care about anyone else. “Face it father, you don't care about me or Nathan or Ethan. You only care about yourself and that's never going to change, you know why? Because a narcissist never changes.” And apparently, that was the final straw for dad because he got up, slammed his fist on the table then started yelling “You crossed the line!”