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serenefreakgeekao3 · 2 years ago

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Hey. Again. So I am in love with peeta mellark and would love if you could write about him having a partner at home in d12 and when him and katniss have to do the whole lovers act in the arena they get super jealous (pretend him and katniss never fell in love really) and when he comes home they're avoiding him and he confronts them about what's wrong. It end with them cuddling and talking about the games

Summary: “PEETA MELLARK!” Effie Trinket had read his name from the slip of paper in her hands, and you felt your knees give out. Katniss Everdeen had just made a spectacle of herself as the first volunteer of District 12. So where did that leave the love of your life? Apparently, inside an arena where he appears to fall in love with his district partner. Can things ever be the same when they both managed to make it back home as the ‘Star Crossed Lovers’? (No use of Y/N!)

Warnings: mentions of bad family behaviour, mentions of disassociation but not named as such, (almost) suicidal thoughts mentioned very briefly, jealousy from reader,

A/N: So this turned less from a jealous reader and more into a hurt/comfort scenario. I apologize if this isn’t exactly what you requested, I don’t normally write jealousy cause I don’t like how toxic it can turn sometimes. I tried my best! Hope you like it!

You were living through your worst nightmare. You would’ve amended that, at one point in your life, saying that perhaps living through the Hunger Games would be your worst nightmare, but you couldn’t imagine that even replacing yourself with Peeta and knowing you would die would be any worse than this. If this had been a week earlier, you would’ve said hearing Peeta’s name be called from Effie Trinket’s mouth was your worst nightmare. But surely, nothing could be worse than this.

Hearing Peeta’s name during the reaping had drained all life from you. However, seeing him before he left- for the very last time everyone kept telling you, but you managed to keep hope- had wrung an entire lifetime through you and faded away once more. You felt exhausted as you watched the train pull out of District 12. You refused to give up hope and told him so during your final goodbyes.

“Don’t you dare try to act like this is already over. Work with Katniss, I heard she’s good with a bow. Do whatever you need to, but don’t give up. Don’t ever give up because I am here and I’m waiting for you to come home-”

“Hey,” Peeta interrupted gently, taking your hands and pulling you into his arms, “My love for you is like the sun. Always shining, and always there.” He kissed the top of your head, mumbling against your hair, “I’m not giving up. I would never do that to you.”

Watching them dress him up had a morbid twist to it, knowing they were just trying to make him pretty enough to die. Nothing they do would be good enough, he was always the most handsome when smiling genuinely- and there was no way that anyone in the Capitol would be able to force him to smile genuinely. Even during his interview, when he joked around with Caesar and they leaned over to smell each other, a sadness pulsed through your heart at the fake, plastered smile he had. Even when asked about a ‘sweetheart back home,’ and Peeta had replied that he loved someone but refused to name them, he still hadn’t really smiled once. But you knew, once he looked into that camera he was looking directly at you. And that you were both mourning every second that you couldn’t spend together.

Once the countdown began, you watched Peeta’s harried face. How he had searched for Katniss, but she had run off without him. You were beside yourself when he was eventually left alone with the Careers- then felt blessed by any gods still living when they took him on as a temporary ally to find Katniss. You knew he was only doing so to save his own hide, and you couldn’t thank him enough for it. Of course, he wouldn’t actually hurt Katniss. But perhaps that could’ve also been a plus to this arrangement- he wouldn’t have to.

Every second that they showed on screen, your eyes were glued to it. Being gathered in the square to watch the beginnings of the Hunger Games, the countdown and the bloodbath. You were watching from home- one of the rare times they actually supplied electricity to everyone’s homes- way into the night, until he had fallen asleep on the television. Even then you were scared to close your own eyes, afraid of something happening to him during the night. But then the Capitol shut off the show and bid their own city citizens a good night. Only when there was nothing left to watch from the broadcast did you finally fall over on your couch and let your eyes fall closed.

You awoke to a sound blaring from the television, the jingle of Caesar’s show just before he went live. He began a recap of what had happened the night before, with colourful commentary of course. You kept an eye on the screen but didn’t see anything that should give you pause. You watched the death countdown at the end and finally breathed a sigh of relief.

So this was how your days went. You still needed to eat though, and drink and sleep. You worked your paltry job, and always stopped by the Mellarks on the way home. They knew you well, of course. This was hitting them hard, but they still had two other sons. The Mellark father always looked at you with pity though, as if you had no one else left. He wasn’t too far off. He gave you an entire loaf of bread every day that you had stopped by, and one time you finally heard the matriarch in the back of the shop.

“District twelve might finally have a winner.”

With the pitiful look Peeta’s father shot you, and the sour look of one of his brothers as he stormed out, this seemed to be a reoccurrence. And it seemed she wasn’t speaking of her own son.

You were especially fragile that day anyway, as that was the day that Peeta had been injured and camouflaged himself into the riverbed. He wasn’t dead, though. He wasn’t dead. You kept repeating that to yourself as you walked home, pinching small bites off of the whole loaf and force-feeding yourself. It still tasted like ash in your mouth.

And while all of that may have been a bad dream, this was the waking nightmare.

They had announced that two winners may be crowned so long as they were from the same district. You both loved and hated that announcement, really curious whether they would hold up their end of the bargain. Finally, someone to save Peeta! Katniss had immediately called out his name and started running, and you felt your own pulse spike as hers surely was.

Everything else had happened so quickly you couldn’t spare a thought for it. Until now. As Katniss straightened up from over Peeta, you bit your lip hard. No, there was no way that this was happening. There was no way that Peeta was looking up at the woman he’d never known his whole life as if she was his world. There was no way-

“Katniss, I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything now, Peeta. I know you probably don’t return my feelings-”

“I do,” He interrupted quickly, and you bit your lip harder, tears coming to your eyes from more than just physical pain. “My love for you is like the sun.”

You had turned the tv off then. Its silence had been so staggering, so different from the way you had been living with constant noise assaulting your senses. You didn’t know how long you sat there before eventually letting yourself fall onto your side, closing your eyes and letting the day pass you by.

You continued your usual routine the next day, with an added look from Peeta’s father. It was like he was confused about something- probably why you bothered to keep on trying. Peeta had been rather convincing, after all. Even you believed it. He wouldn’t have said those words if he hadn’t actually meant them. Mr Mellark still gave you a loaf of bread, and the warmth from the food finally sunk into your hands. That’s when she walked out.

“Why are you still giving away precious food to this ingrate?” She had slapped the loaf from your hands, and the cold that seeped back into you felt familiar. “Obviously if she manages to save our son, he won’t be wasting time on this one anymore. Neither should we.”

You left without any fuss and finally turned the tv back on once you arrived home. It took a few hours to finally get a recap of what you had missed during your tantrum, but only a few minutes to realize, thankfully, that Peeta was still alive. No matter how shattered your heart was, he still needed to live. Because if he could live, and live happily with her, then that would be enough.

The games must’ve been going on too long, as the Capitol suddenly sped things up. The final showdown was beginning, and Peeta and Katniss were still both very much alive. You watched in a detached sort of happiness as your district finally won the Hunger Games. Then the announcement happened. Only one victor left standing.

“Kill her, Peeta.”

You would’ve been surprised at the words coming out of your mouth from any other instance. However, this was the Hunger Games. This was Peeta, and this was the woman he had said those words to. You kept mumbling to yourself, begging him to do something as he turned fearful eyes onto her. You knew that if it was yourself inside that arena, he would’ve already been doing whatever he could to make sure you survived. This means that he was likely thinking the same thing now, too. He was trying to find some way to kill himself so Katniss wouldn’t have to.

“Just trust me. If they won’t allow two victors, we won’t give them one.” Katniss had poured those damned berries into his hands, then locked eyes with him and began a countdown. You felt your heart sink with every number she spoke, finally letting your eyes fall closed. You didn’t want to watch his destruction at the hands of the one he loved. You couldn’t bear the thought.

“STOP! Stop!” You opened your eyes, watching both Peeta and Katniss raise their eyes to the sky. “Ladies and gentlemen, I present your victors of the 74th Hunger Games!”

While you knew this meant nothing for your own future, you had cried. You couldn’t find it in yourself to figure out whether the tears were of happiness for Peeta’s survival, or mourning a life that once was. You had finally cried, and let yourself feel all of those burdening emotions, too many of them to handle.

You continued on with your life from there. You worked your useless job, you stopped visiting Peeta’s family, and you came home just to eat bland foods and sleep. You weren’t sure what kind of life this was, whether existing just for the sake of it was worth all the trouble, but you knew that nothing could really get worse, so that meant it could only get better, right?

You hadn’t paid any attention to the days after he survived. You didn’t try to make it to the train station to meet him, you didn’t bother stopping by his old home to see if he visited his family, and you didn’t try to fight your way into Victor’s Square to see him finally. You didn’t even really know when he arrived back in twelve, just that he had at some point. You had even seen Katniss eventually, moving with determination through the district toward her family home. You had averted your gaze immediately, not ready to deal with that trauma.

It was a few days later, late in the evening after work, when you finally heard a knock on your door. It wasn’t common to get visitors, and any that were common didn’t tend to knock. You had frozen at your kitchen sink, in the process of drying your hands after washing what few meagre dishes you owned. Slowly, mechanically, you finished drying off your hands and tried to smooth the wrinkles out of your generic outfit. You took your time walking over to your door, then took a deep breath before opening it.

There he stood, Peeta Mellark. Winner of the 74th Hunger Games, and one-half of the Star-Crossed Lovers. No matter how often you tried to prepare yourself for this moment, nothing helped. Because he was there, in person, so close that you could reach out and touch him. Nothing could prepare you for seeing Peeta and not letting yourself bask in his warmth.

The smile that crossed his face, however, took your breath away. It may have also been the cause of the few tears that escaped your eyes, falling slowly down your cheek. He had been in the middle of saying your name when he noticed them, his smile slowly falling away to an expression of confusion.

“Why haven’t I seen you since I got back?” He asked this as if it was obvious, as if you should’ve been waiting for him. “My father says you stopped coming by sometime toward the end of the games? I was worried something had happened to you.” He says this as if he should care and it burns your chest hotter than any feeling of depression had up to this point.

“Why should I bother?” You had never heard your voice like this, so void of emotion. Peeta hadn’t either, clearly, for the gobsmacked look on his face. “I figured you’d be plenty happy with your new lover.”

“Lover?” His voice was incredulous, and he immediately shook his head before quickly looking over his shoulder. “Can we take this inside?”

“Do you really think that’s a good idea? Don’t you think they might see?” ‘Don’t you think she might see?’

“That’s why we should just-” He huffed, gently placing a hand on your hip and pushing you inside. His touch sent enough of a shock to your system that you obliged, pulling back before taking another few steps backwards. Breathing room, that’s what you needed. You watched him close the door behind him, lock it with your flimsy excuse of a lock, and pull the curtains closed on the front-facing window. “They can’t see the truth.”

“The truth?” You mumbled, crossing your arms and holding them against your chest. Everything felt off-kilter, being in the same room as Peeta and running from his touch. None of this felt right. “I saw the truth clear enough.”

“What are you even talking about?” Peeta took a step toward you finally, and you matched his step backwards. He looked more worried than you had ever seen him, even inside the arena when he should’ve been worrying about his own safety. “Please, just talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it.”

“Why bother fixing things with me?” You couldn’t meet his eyes any longer, not without wanting to throw yourself at the man. But he’s in love with someone else, you had to keep reminding yourself that. “She’s right there now, she lives right across from you. If you didn’t already move into the same house.” The thought, while not entering your head before now, suddenly lived in your brain. That’s all you could see in your mind’s eye, Peeta and Katniss being homely together. You felt physically ill, rubbing your face with your hands as if trying to brush the thought away.

“What?”

“Katniss!” You had finally raised your voice, finally included any sort of emotion in it. It really looks like you weren’t leaving this unscathed. “Go find your new lover, stop wasting your time on me!”

“No,” His voice was quiet, his head shaking ever so slightly back and forth. “I thought if anyone could see through it all, it would’ve been you.”

“See through it?”

“Yeah, see through the ruse.”

“I thought I could too!” You yelled, holding yourself back from a growl. Your arms were thrown on either side of you and you watched Peeta’s hands curl up into a ball. “I thought everything was a ruse- how long, Peeta? How long until it went from something you were acting at to something you were really feeling?”

“Never!”

“Don’t lie to me Peeta!” You choked back a sob, raising a hand to your mouth quickly. Peeta’s expression turned from one of confusion and anger to one of desperation at the sound, taking another step forward. You took another step back. “I heard what you said.”

“What?”

“I heard what you said!” You obligingly repeated what you had originally mumbled, though you didn’t believe for a second that he hadn’t heard you. “What you said to her.”

“Wait-”

“I heard it Peeta, don’t try to deny it.”

“I didn’t-”

“Stop trying to fight this! I heard what you said, I know you love her!”

“I was saying it to you!”

You had never heard Peeta raise his voice so loud. You felt frozen in your spot, breath coming in pants and yet the silence that followed could’ve put a funeral to shame. You watched the shame flow through Peeta, he had never wanted to raise his voice after his past with his family. But he quickly shook off the shock, taking a step forward towards you, and another when you finally didn’t back away. He repeated himself softer, “I was saying it to you.”

“No, you were looking at her.”

“I was looking through her.” Peeta shook his head, looking down. “I would’ve never said it if I knew it caused you such pain.”

“What are you talking about, Peeta?”

“I had to say it.” He took another step closer, shortening the distance between you in the small house surrounding you both. “Don’t you see? I had to say something, I had to play along with the ruse.”

“I can’t handle this,” You mumble, mostly to yourself. This was getting dangerously close to territory that you feared you’d never be able to step into again. If you were forced to leave him again after this small chance of having him back, it would ruin you.

“Please, please,” Peeta took another step closer and finally reached over to take your hand. You numbly let him. “I didn’t want to. They started it in the train on the way to the Capitol, so damned early. Haymitch said if we played the role of lovers we’d get more sponsors. I refused, Katniss refused. That had seemed like the end of it.”

“The role of…?”

“Then they brought it back up during the last interview before the games. Told me to spring it on the audience, and they asked Caesar to ask if I had anyone back home. Told me to say that I didn’t, that the one I loved followed me to the Capitol. I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t lie like that. I wouldn’t have been believable.” He reached forward to take your other hand, and you finally realized you were staring into his bright blue eyes.

“When they made the announcement, Katniss came to find me. I was in bad shape, but I was surviving. I was surviving for you because you told me not to give up. Because I couldn’t just leave you behind with nothing, with no one else.

“She took me to that cave, and when she leaned over to kiss my cheek she whispered to me. She said ‘This is your only chance,’ as if I didn’t have any choice. And honestly- she was right.”

You thought back to how the wound had looked, how it pulsed blood and how you felt like your own heart was pulsing out along with it. You didn’t remember anything after that until you had eventually turned the tv back on. Peeta had recovered, somehow.

“We played the lovers act to get sponsors. We played the lovers act to win. Please, you have to know,” Peeta took another step closer to you, bringing you two chest to chest. “I wasn’t going to eat the berries. I was scared when they announced there would be only one winner because I would have to fight her, and she was strong. She had already proven it. But when she concocted that stupid plan, I wasn’t going to do it. I wasn’t willing to die for whatever stupid point she wanted to prove to the Capitol. I was going to watch her swallow those berries, and then spit mine out. I was going to win, for you.”

“Peeta,” Your voice was breathless, but he had finally fallen quiet. He looked so pained, and you took your hand from one of his to raise it to his cheek, letting your thumb drag across his cheekbone. “Is this real? I can’t-” You choke back a sob, feeling the tears roll down your cheeks. “I can’t lose you again.”

“I said those words for you,” Peeta repeated softly, letting his head fall forward to rest against your forehead. “It was a message. I was trying to tell you I still loved you.”

“I heard it wrong,” You mumbled incredulously, huffing out a laugh, “This whole time, I heard it wrong.”

“My love for you is like the sun,” He repeats, closing his eyes, “Always shining, and always there.”

You tipped forward quickly and slotted your mouth with his, and he finally released your hand to place on your hips, pulling you flush against him. You were so scared to never get this again, and yet it felt so familiar to you regardless. Peeta moaned low in his throat, attempting to pull you closer, and you finally wrapped your arms around him. It was at this moment you knew, Peeta was finally home.

#peeta mellark #peeta mellark x reader #gender neutral reader #oneshot #drabble #fanfiction #requested #serenewrites #the hunger games #hurt/comfort #jealousy

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griefabyss69 · 3 months ago

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THWIP THURSDAY

technically tagged by @carbonbased000 for WIP SHARING PURPOSES and so here I am! Thank you <3 I haven't done any WIP posting/games/etc in ages and I appreciate everyone who tagged me, it makes me feel nice even if I don't participate <3 I mentioned in some tags earlier this week that I attempted to have a day where I took a break from writing (I've been writing a LOT lately, even more than I posted in Sept) and that instead of doing THAT, I got possessed by two brand new WIPs that refused to wait their turn. One of them is over 20K by now and the other I think is still under 10K but it's gonna be a long one! My instinct is to keep these squirreled away until they're finished but they're not gonna be finished for a very long time so I might as well share some of the longer one! ---

God. What a relief, when Eddie slides into the passenger's seat, looking exactly how Steve expects him to, smelling like coffee and cigarettes - though he said he was quitting - and everything he uses in the shower. "Hey," he says, pulling out of the driveway. "Hello there," Eddie says, looking him over. "Is this a… don't you DARE talk to me about it kind of thing, or do you want to bring it up later, or should I pull it out of you with brute force?" Steve laughs. Everything's actually alright, isn't it? "The second thing. Nothing's… nothing's that bad, just had a hard day," he says. "Even though it was short." "Yeah," Eddie says, graciously, though Steve can tell that Eddie can tell that whatever it is feels like fucking dogshit. "Lucky you, then. You get to hang out with a such a distracting, devastating specimen like myself." Steve's got. Hot blood. It reminds him presently. "Uh-huh," he says, flat and dry as possible. "Tell that to all of the sexy single moms when we're waiting in line and you've got your cart full of like, fucking ice cream and TV dinners." Eddie laughs, scrunching his face at him. "You think you're sooo funny," he says. "That's embarrassing." "No, what's embarrassing is that you think I'm funny." Eddie bites his lips together like he's trying not to smile, crossing his arms. He doesn't have a retort, but Steve knows that's only because it's still Eddie's version of too-fucking-early in the morning. "You had coffee, right? Breakfast?" he checks. There's a diner up ahead. "Yeah, didn't want to go terrorize the aisles hungry, or whatever you said," Eddie sighs. "So I ate the stalest peanut butter sandwich on EARTH and with coffee that had NO milk in it." Steve laughs. "Good thing I'm here to save the day," he says, and pulls into the diner. He's not hungry, but they can get something small and share it or something. Whatever Eddie wants.

This fic is set in 1990 and is about trauma AND bdsm AND deep easy friendships AND it's got some of my most Eddie dialogue ever in it. (I've really been working on my presentation of him as someone who does NOT grow out of the adhd hyperactivity, perhaps inspired by pulling myself out of the sludge of a months long disassociation/depression thing and my own return of adhd hyperactivity, which is why I got SO possessed by the Stories I'm Writing)

I'm not tagging anyone specifically because if you see this (thank you for reading all of that ^), you're it!!! Please @ me so I can see your wip thank you <3

#chats from the abyss #fun things #griefabyss69 writing #shrapnel tag

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writinandcrying · 1 year ago

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TMNT ONE SHOT - Holiday Season - A Special gift

Christmas was not your favorite holiday, at least you had a mutant turtle to help out in this trying times (GN READER, Tw: dysfunctional family, arguments and bickering related to food, crying mentioned)

Fluff - makeout / first kiss with *insert turtle you like* after a shitty xmas (English isn’t my first language and I didn’t proof read this 😗✌️, pls don’t hesitante to correct me if you see something off putting, I hope you guys still like it!)

You climb up the last steps of the fire scape connecting the roof top of your building, dragging your feet as you groan one last time, it’s impressive you can hear your relatives arguing several stores bellow, you have lost count how many times people can pick on each other on their free will. You drag your hands along your face and sigh, you want nothing more but to distance yourself from that.

You didn’t get to feel much of The “Christmas spirit” everyone seem to love and cherish since you left your childhood years, and it seems that every year you learn to dislike December a little bit more. As much as The Grinch was deeply relatable for you lately, you didn’t want it to be, having a dysfunctional family in such a tender Holiday was kinda like receiving punch in the gut every day until 25th of December died out. After the first 10, the warm smiles and happy wishes over a great season seem to constantly mock your misery, leaving you bitter and resentful.

Leaning over the edge of your building, you check the many light up windows and different narratives playing along on your neighborhood, a family all gathered up taking a picture by their decorated tree on the left, you let a chuckle out by thrilled parents filming a rather young child by your right, to what it seems taking their first steps by their excitement.

it was nice seeing different kind of life’s playing along the fairy lights on the streets bellow, secretly wishing yours would be a little bit like theirs, reality seems distant as you accidentally disassociate, thinking how -your- family would be seen compared to those merry ones, your parents resentment growing against each other every minute, barking mean comments left and right to you messing apparently everything up. The perfect picture of a broken home. Awful to see, awful to be part of.

You sigh as you recall what drove you to the edge moments ago, a silly comment really, it was so small compared to the constant bickering around the whole month of December, but picking on you eating a single cookie? That you made? You spent the whole day cooking. The whole day trying to have a good Christmas, you can feel yourself fuming as you remember how much you have worked your ass off the whole month for their presents, for a good Christmas dinner, as they wouldnt even buy a single pair of sock for you. Give you a single “thank you” for all of your efforts, You tried, you really did, Despite all the odds against your favor, you still tried, when you finally decide you give yourself a taste of your hard work, your family dares to give you shit about your eating habits? No. Nuh uh.

That was the last drop. You marched to your room as you heard someone giving you shit one last time after harshly dropping the plate on the dining table. knew you would be screwed when they found out you were gone, no amount of locks would keep them at bay for longer than 2 to 3 hours. But god, you needed a time out. Yes, you would rather freeze your butt on a dirty and frozen roof top than to listen to another passive aggressive bullshit comment.

“you have been hiding here all this time?” A familiar voice fills out of the foggyness of your thoughts, your head turns around slightly, watching a well known silhouette marvelously shining through the moonlight “nobody’s seen you in days” his tone isn’t harsh or accusative, you can almost hear a incredulous chuckle out of him, he speaks lightly, curious to your whereabouts, you can also hear him landing near the regular rooftop entrance, you stare once again to the uncountable windows and buildings in front of you.

He waits for you to retaliate, reply with witty comeback, flash him an apologetic smile, anything, but silence wins you over. He knew something was up when you were this quiet, your family would be the main topic when you vanished like that, he also knew you needed space to deal with such matter, in due time, you would ask for comfort, you would seek for his presence, just like when he comes to you, yet this time it never came, you never came. The ninja turtle slowly leans over, trailing his eyes ahead as you do.

A sniff catches him off guard, he knows it shouldnt, but it does, he glances at you to finally see your glossy eyes staring ahead, a blush covering your cheeks and nose; You look adorable, sad, disappointed, frustrated, but still can’t help but to find you adorable, his hearts stings as you rapidly catch a sneaky tear roll down your cheek, turning your back at him before he can catch you in this arms.

“Didn’t want to bother.” your voice comes out more shaky than you would like, a bit hoarse due to the current season, you rub your hands together, if he questioned about your well being, you could just blame it on the cold weather,on the perfect snowflakes falling above you two.

“You could never bother” he trails along slowly, weary as if you were a scared cat, afraid that any hasty movement could make you dash “how about we go to the lair? Everyone misses you.” he gently places a hand on your back, “I miss you” he ponders, moving slowly to be by your side, your eyes don’t meet his, he wants to lean down, he wants your eyes locked on his, he wants you to trust him as much as he trusts you, he wants nothing more but to hold you close and kiss your sorrows and tears away.

he stays put instead, waiting on your call.

You instinctively turns towards him, his warmth drawing you in, you want to smile, to tell him over and over that eveything is fine, you were just busy, he doesn’t have to worry.

Instead your mouth is pressed in a tight line, you can feel your lips trembling when you try to speak, you know words will come out wobbly, and for the first time, you won’t be able to hold back tears in front of him. This is pathetic. You think, you want to be at the lair. You want to be near them, but how can you explain you can’t bare to see their love, brotherhood and companionship tonight? You can’t feel part of it? This night isn’t about you, it has never been and it will never will be, you just get used to it.

You look up; your thoughts swimming through your eyes, you open and close your mouth, how do you explain you crave affection, but can’t seem to bear it?

The turtle holds you in a swift movement, carrying you with ease, gently but still firmly holding you against his plastron in princess style, the familiar adrenaline rushes trough you as you can feel him jumping from roof top to roof top, you don’t have words to question him, astoundingly admiring him as you stare at his focused face facing the horizon ahead.

You close your eyes for a moment, learning your face over the valley of his neck and collarbone, in a blink of an eye, songs, chatter and laughter fills the air and you remember you are in New York , the most magical city to be this time of year. Yes, you had probably the crappiest month of your life, but for a moment, you let yourself drift away in bliss, focusing on sounds and passing colorful lights.

He settles both you on a empty office balcony, everything is dark inside accept for the faint lights on a very worn out tree looking back at you, you check your own reflection, your eyes are red and puffy, your hair is uneven, and there are millions of colors shining behind you.

The Rockefeller was the most iconic place all over New York during Christmas time, slowly turning around, the tree and it’s surroundings leaving you both speechless, you loved Christmas lights, it was impressive to say the least how the decorations were absolutely ethereal. ever so slowly, you both sit down and admire the virw quietly.

“You don’t have to deal with everything on your own” is the first line he graces you, you wanna laugh with that alone, look who’s talking you think over, but you can’t say it, you know he is right, he chuckles as if he could read your mind, he gently tilts your head upwards “next time, call me. Text me. Reach out, for goddess sake.” He smiles at you, you let out a huff, smiling shyly “you have so much on your plate already, I just, I didn’t-“

“You deserve so much better” he shakes his head, lips pressed in a thin line. Over many years of his life, he has thought he had too little and humans had absolutely everything on top side, it was unfair and left a sour taste over his mouth. you have shown him that kind of thought was childish, he had a family, he had people he could count on, that’s alone is a lot more than what many people have, He can’t take that fact for granted anymore.

He also knew your biggest wish was to be part of something like that, his biggest wish was to make you feel part of it, maybe even something more.

You shyly lace your pinky with one of his fingers, ducking away as you felt your face burning under his deep gaze, you were so appreciative of his family, of him, of his patience and dedication, to say you have a crush on the turtle was an understatement, everything the he did made your heart skip a beat, the way he would always seek out for you during hangouts, how he cared for your preferences and well being, you found yourself unable to look away when he was training, when he would laughs so care freely, when he gets lost on his interests and everything seems to slow down around the both of you. You rest your head gently over his shoulder, you know you can get lost in his eyes quickly, you bite your lip when you think of his, and how heavenly it would feel against yours.

“It’s alright..” that what you manage to come up with, it’s cheap and it’s empty, but you don’t know what else to say. “No it’s not.” He says it firmly, interlocking your fingers tightly to prove his point.

Sometimes, you swear he feels the same as you do, you swear you can catch a soft longing from him across the dinging table, across the dojo over self defense training, short glances that are filled with unspoken words, that the innocent touches are not so innocent anymore. but life has taught you not to hang on those wishes, not to have hope. It was hurtful to do so.

“why do you care?” you let a frustrated sigh out, you hate how you just asked that the moment the words left your mouth, you aren’t frustrated at him per say, more towards your feelings, at how clammy your hands feel around his, how fast your heart is beating, how you secretly hope he knows that you didn’t mean to let that question out, how much of a chicken you were, how you fought annoying daydreaming scenarios with him on daily basis and yet just wish he kissed you already.

“Because I do.” he makes you look at him again, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, and for the first time tonight, you look at him, you really look at him, how he is breathing fast, how dilated his pupils are when he looks at you, how his thumb drags temptingly over the bottom of your lips, letting out a shaky breath as he squeezes your hand one last time.

“because I just do.” His gaze is locked in yours, pleading, full of what you have denied yourself for years, telling eveything you have ever wanted without any words. He was yours, and you are his.

you finally tell yourself fuck it and kiss him.

It’s desperate, it’s passionate, it’s eveything you want and more, you drag your nails on the nape of his neck and draws him into your space, your chest hits is plastron as he grips your hips as he pins you down against the ground, the way you hook one of your leg on top of his shell drives out a moan out of him, making you arch your back, you nibble his bottom lip as you swear you gonna lose your mind.

You don’t know how long has passed, your grip on him is as strong as his as you lay beneath him, you makeout until you are both out of breath, until the anger and frustration has been worn out and you two slowly melt together, once fervent kisses turns into soft, gentle ones, until you are both looking at each other, smiling and giving pecks between giggles, translating eveything you have both been feeling towards each other

“Goddamn.” he draws a hearty laugh out of both you, the turtle rests is forehead against yours, sighing dreamily, giving you feather light kisses on your cheeks as you pull him closer.

“I care a lot about you too.” you drunkly smile to him, caressing his cheeks tenderly, “I sure hope so.” you hook your arms around his neck, laughing at his antics.

“I gotta tell you something tho.” you tilt your head curiously, he looks down at your lips, licking instinctively as you bite yours.

“you surprisingly taste like gingerbread cookies”

That makes you giggle once more.

——————————————————————————

It’s 3 am and Idk how to finish so hopefully the end it’s not too abrupt *confetti sounds* 🎉 let me know if you guys liked it!

#tmnt #tmnt x reader #rottmnt #rottmnt x reader #giulia writes #tmnt headcanons #tmnt 2007 #tmnt raph #tmnt mikey #tmnt leonardo #tmnt 2003 #tmnt donatello #tmnt fandom #tmnt bayverse turtles x reader #tmnt bayverse

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toomanythoughts2 · 4 months ago

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Dethklok Agere HCs: Skwisgaar Edition

🎸🐺🦅❄️💃👯‍♀️🌕🥇🎰🩲🎼⚖️🧴🚬⬜💋🍆💦🦴🍒🍑🍌

We're almost at the end, woohoo! The next one up is Skwisgaar 🎸! Him and Nathan will be my hardest challenge because I think they embody a type of regression that is very neutral but also very personalized. Anyway, this Skwisgaar 🎸! I hope to get Nathan's out soon to finish them all off.

Everything is below the Keep Reading tab.

(My blonde, tall guitar god, how I love you so. You did not deserve the shit you got.)

🎸 With Pickles being the oldest out of the bunch regression-wise, Skwisgaar's age range is most similar to Murderface's. He's definitely 5 to 9, usually hanging around the 7 mark. I like to think that a lot of his regression is around the same age from when we see him as a kid in "Fatherklok." which I think is either 7 or 8. Possibly older but still very young.

🎸 Skwisgaar's regression is voluntary, so it's Age Dreaming.

🎸 I like to think that a lot of his regression is about missing childhood experiences, much like Pickles, but less extreme. Instead of being antagonized or willfully ignored like Pickles, Skwisgaar was neglected and forgotten about. Pickles' regression is about redo-ing certain parts of his childhood that were ruined or never explored. Skwisgaar is about filling in those gaps in his childhood with those activities that he never got to do in the first place.

🎸 From a DVD Special, we know a few things about Skwisgaar's childhood. 1. He was so impoverished that he would eat snow for dinner. 2. He worked a regular job at one point in his life before he went into bands, most likely either as a legal working child or a teenager. (I'm saying before because Skwisgaar has a long history of being in other bands before Dethklok. Pickles is the oldest and had a career in Snakes' N' Barrels around the '80's - 90's starting at age 16. Brendon says that Nathan and Skwisgaar are the same age, youngest only to Pickles. That doesn't give us too much room to work with when discussing the time between Skwisgaar joins his first band and him having this regular job. So it makes sense that Skwisgaar would have this job as a minor.) With that understanding, I believe that Skwisgaar had to give up a lot of normal childhood activities that someone with more money and/or free time would experience. Along with his mothers promiscuity, I also believe that Skwisgaar had a very unhealthy living situation in terms of inappropriate sexual behavior and abuse. (I will argue that having sex in your living room with the knowledge that your son would be coming home soon and then not reacting or stopping the men when he walks in, is child abuse. Also, the things in Skwisgaar's in-character interviews scream neglect.) Skwisgaar had to grow up fast in order to survive and disassociated via his guitar.

🎸 The person to first figure out Skwisgaar's regression is Toki. Toki spends a lot of time with Skwisgaar, both regressed and not, and is very observant of his character. He notices the shift in Skwisgaar when Pickles is being particularly "motherly" around Toki. Almost like he's expecting Pickles to wipe his face at dinner or put his hair in a ponytail so it's out of the way.

🎸 Toki doesn't bring up his findings at first. He sits and watches for these shifts in his character to gather the evidence that he is regressing. After a while of watching and confirming his suspicions, he decides to put his last piece of his plan into motion. While not regressed, he copies some of Pickles' caregiver movements on Skwisgaar. They're really subtle but so is Skwisgaar's shift. Afterwards, Toki does confront Skwisgaar about it alone.

🎸 This is where Skwisgaar is different from Toki, Pickles, and Murderface. Skwisgaar did not start regressing until he started being around Toki, Murderface, and Pickles as regressors. Skwisgaar is making the conscious choice of regressing and letting himself relax under the ministrations of his bandmates. He is choosing to regress as a way to cope with his trauma and stress. Before this, he did not use regressing. He mostly used sex and playing guitar before, both coping mechanisms that he still utilizes even after he starts regressing. One could argue that Skwisgaar is experimenting with regressing and has found favor in the method.

🎸 I'm going to just say that I'm using the way these posts are published as the timeline for when each member comes out. So it would go Toki, Murderface, Pickles, Skwisgaar, Nathan. With these being said, when Skwisgaar does tell the band, they are all very supportive of him, and were already expecting it. This, of course, elicits a trip to Dr. Twinkletits by Charles since Skwisgaar decided on his own that he was going to use regression to cope. Charles has everyone's best interest in heart and wants Skwisgaar to utilize this approach the best way possible.

🎸 Skwisgaar's regression is weather based. Most of his regression happens when it's winter time, especially if it snows. I wouldn't say it's a trigger for him, but more so, a relaxer. It's easier for him to regress when it's cold and snowy and reminds him of his childhood.

🎸 Skwisgaar does not have tantrums like Pickles, Toki, or Murderface. He learned from a young age that tantrums never got him anywhere, in fact, it took the few things he had away. So he is very quiet. When he's upset with something, he goes almost completely mute. He tries to focus on his guitar playing ("Dethmas" "Dethfam") instead of the thing that made him upset. Pickles and Nathan try to work Skwisgaar through those emotions and get him to talk about what made him so upset. The point of regressing is to convey emotions that otherwise wouldn't come out. They want to know what's wrong, or at least convince him that it's ok to tell them what has made him upset. He is allowed to be upset by things and show that emotion. Skwisgaar is still very unsure about this and hasn't opened too much.

🎸 Recognizing when Skwisgaar is regressed is very hard because of his vast age range and the personalities of these ages. He emulates the type of person he was at the age when he regresses because he doesn't know exactly how else to regress to those ages "normally" (I say that in the context that he grew up very fast, thus skewing his perception of childhood.) The only one that can clock it is Toki. He's spends most of his time watching Skwisgaar and copying him that he's able to notice when something changes, like his demeanor or his stance or even his playing.

🎸 When Skwisgaar regresses, so does his guitar playing. His fingers know the cords, but they become looser, freer. Like someone who hasn't disciplined themselves on correct finger placements yet or someone who is still struggling with sweeping. Skwisgaar doesn't notice the change, and if he does, he doesn't change it. The music and the way he plays helps him regress, if he wants to willfully regress.

🎸 Skwisgaar has some thoughts on what he missed out on as a child but most of it is very vague. Unlike Pickles who wanted re-dos of birthdays, Skwisgaar wants not-so memorable activities. The band has been able to find a few of these activities, like playing in the snow, having a movie night, or having a family dinner. But there are looser activities like someone brushing his hair after a shower, someone reading his original works and giving him feedback, or someone holding him when he's sick. In regards, Skwisgaar's regression is very similar to Toki in terms of wanting "normal" activities. The band works hard to fulfil these requests as often as they can.

🎸 Sometimes Skwisgaar regresses in hopes of doing one of these activities and other times he regresses while he's already doing the activity. For example, sometimes he will regress before going outside in the cold in hopes that someone will force him into warmer clothes and help him put on his jacket and hat and gloves. However, sometimes he's not regressed and wants to go outside when it's cold but is forced into warmer clothes, causing him to regress.

🎸 Do not bring up his mother when he is regressed. It's banned.

🎸 Skwisgaar is very conflicted about caregivers. When he regresses, a lot of it is about wanting to be cared for by someone, particularly a parental figure. He does want a parental-role caregiver however, he is scared of parental role figures. He is also very angry at caregivers. His own experiences with parents and would-be parents have made him apprehensive and dismissive of them. But the want to please, to be seen, to be acknowledge is all still there. He fights it all the time.

Sometimes the want for a caregiver wins and other times the apprehensive side wins. The band tries to give him the space to make that decision on his own. They consider the apprehensive side as another portion of his regression, one that calls for how Skwisgaar wanted to act toward his parental figures and would-be parental figures as a child. It's like being able to finally get back at your parents for when they hurt you. So sometimes, the band acts like caregivers to give Skwisgaar the freedom to "tell them off" like how he wanted to as a kid. His regression is complex in that way that the band as caregivers are acting as their own, individualized caregivers and "roleplaying" as past parental figures. They conceptualize different type of adults in Skwisgaar's life, ones that he wants approval from and ones he wants to completely ignore.

🎸 Skwisgaar was an only child growing up but always longed for a sibling. Regression grants him that wish. He loves to regress when the others are regressed, and loves having them act as his siblings, as either older or younger siblings. He likes being around Pickles when they're regressed because it feels like he has a cool older brother that he look up to and hang out with. He likes being around Murderface because he always has the coolest toys that he never got growing up, and (surprisingly) Murderface shares very well with his toys. Skwisgaar likes being around Toki because Toki still looks up to Skwisgaar and likes to ask him questions about his guitar, and Skwisgaar loves talking about his passion. He loves having siblings to be a child around.

🎸 Skwisgaar doesn't want discipline initially because his regression is so controlled and experimental. However, the longer he does it for and the less conscious it becomes, he does warm up to the idea of discipline. Granted, it's usually just a verbal warning but he did get popped on the back of the head once by Pickles for being a little mean to Toki when he was really small. Skwisgaar decided he probably deserved it because he was being a bit meaner than normal. They are not allowed, otherwise, to do anything else. There are no timeouts or physical punishments, just verbal warnings and scolding's.

🎸 Skwisgaar is open to utilizing regression supplies, he's just very hesitant. A part of him still feels a little silly for being a grown man acting like a child, but the others try to encourage his curiosity. Toki is always willing to talk to him about his supplies and tools, and how they make him feel or how he uses them. He tests out different clothing too to help get him in the right headspace. So far, he's alright using child-friendly cutlery meant for children not toddlers. They make him feel special because nothing in his own house was dedicated or bought specifically with a child in mind. He used all grown up stuff, not the child friendly versions. So things that are made with a child-friendly version, he likes, such as CF! Toothbrushes and toothpaste, CF! Tablets, and CF! guitars. He likes sippy cups with the lids or straws, especially bendy straws (His mom never let him get bendy straws). He likes the graphic tees with his special interest on it, which becomes his biggest signal that he wants to regress. He doesn't like bottles or things meant for toddlers, like Toki. But he will play with a few of his toys simply out of curiosity, like wooden matching puzzles or rings. He won't use a pacifier but has been found sucking his thumb when he's deep in his regression.

🎸 Skwisgaar parallel plays the most out of the band. Sometimes he just likes doing his own thing while the others are doing their own thing. The problem is that Toki always wants to do what Skwisgaar is doing, especially if he's regressed. Skwisgaar has learned to call over Pickles, Nathan, or Charles to get Toki when he wants to be alone. Toki has learned to sneak better. They can come to a truce if Toki gives Skwisgaar two feet of space and is quietly observing Skwisgaar.

🎸 There is no sex allowed in Mordhaus when Skwisgaar is regressed. This goes for all of them but it's especially true for Skwisgaar. Because Skwisgaar grew up in a house that was so sexually inappropriate, those sounds or visuals are serious triggers for him. The band made this a rule when Toki started regressing involuntarily. But when Skwisgaar started regressing, they realized that even the mention of sex would trigger him or it would take him out of his regression. The only time where the rule was broken (accidental) Skwisgaar freaked out so bad and hid in a closet with his guitar. He would have completely ran out of the house if the door to outside was closer. He doesn't want to be back inside that house as a child, he wants to be in HIS house as a child.

🎸 Skwisgaar has found comfort in cartoons from his childhood and will watch them when regressed. He loves Moomins, Tintin, and Babar! Toki will often join in and watch with him. Pickles thinks that maybe Tintin is a little too advance for Toki but Skwisgaar tells him that Toki isn't even really paying attention. He just likes to snuggle up with Skwisgaar and watch the TV with him, regressed or not. Nathan gifts him a Moomins plush as a surprise one day to help him regress. Nathan gifted Toki Snufkin as his companion piece.

🎸 Skwisgaar is experimenting with how much help he wants with his regression. For example, he doesn't know if he wants Pickles to cut up his food for him, feed it to him, wipe his hands, clean his face, ect. Or if he wants more independence where he gets his plate and eats by himself and cleans himself off but Pickles comes by to do "touch ups" or reminders. It's like direct help vs. indirect help. He likes to do things independently but enjoys being dotting one from time to time. But he doesn't like everything being taken over for him, he likes do things independently. But he likes encouragement and observation to things he cares about. He also likes "advice" where someone will tweak something he's already doing to be more effective, like helping him with finger placement on his guitar or showing him to brush at the bottom of his hair, not the middle. He likes the idea of someone checking up on him and making sure he's alright when he's playing by himself. He's not too sure about bathing help. Murderface did bathe him once before ("Fatherklok") and it wasn't a bad feeling, but he wasn't in the right mindset to really dissect his feelings about it. He's working all of these out in real time so the band is constantly succeeding and failing at it.

🎸 Nathan has had both guitarists regressed before one either side of him, cuddling up watching a movie. Toki is a quiet babbler and was talking to himself through most of it. Skwisgaar was quiet through most of it because he was busy sucking his thumb. Nathan just wanted to eat his chips but if he tried to move his hands off either of their backs, it would cause a chorus of negative noises. They ended up falling asleep like that. Pickles has a photo on this on his phone and refuses to delete it.

🎸 Skwisgaar loves playing Rock Band guitar. He makes Toki sing and Murderface play drums. Skwisgaar will not let either of them play bass guitar. He is the only guitarist.

🎸 Skwisgaar has accidently regressed after a concert before. He as busy taking off his corpse paint when Pickles came over and helped him remove some of it that got in his hair line. It sent him reeling with how good it felt to be cared for like that and spent the rest of the night glued to Pickles.

🎸 Speaking of Pickles, because Pickles is the "mother" of the band, Skwisgaar has an affinity toward him. He's got a really shitty relationship with his mom and he's aware of it. He does not like his mom, not one bit. He wants another person to be his mom or be motherly to him. So, it's only logical that Pickles would take that role. Skwisgaar does not use different names for people when he's small, but he has, from time to time, called Pickles "Mom" and, on rarer occasions, Nathan "Dad".

🎸 When it snows, Skwisgaar loves to play outside. He gets everyone out there to build snowmen and have snow ball fights and make snow angels. Pickles, being from the midwest, and Toki, being from Norway, handle the snow very well and can play the longest. Nathan and Murderface, both southern American boys, don't. They can handle it for a little while but need to go back inside when things get too cold for them. Skwisgaar also has a nasty habit of sneaking snow down people's shirts. But it's ok, Pickles is known for grabbing his sides with his cold hands as punishment. By the end of it, Skwisgaar is very regressed, happily, and will be for the rest of the day. It usually ends with a warm shower, soup, and a good movie.

🎸 Skwisgaar is insanely jealous that Toki gets read to at night because he wants to be read to. Murderface has more or less the same feeling, not because he wants anyone to put him to bed and read to him, but because he wasn't offered it. Skwisgaar used to see other kids on TV get read to by their parents and wanted that for himself. His mom hardly ever knew where he was at "bed time" let alone put him there. But Pickles is observant and so now they have group bed time story time for everyone. Murderface comes and goes when he wants, but Skwisgaar likes it because it matches up to the idealized version of childhood from his mind. Toki is ok with it but likes it better when it's just him and Nathan.

🎸 Skwisgaar and Toki have gotten into a yelling fight over Pickles before being their "Mom". It's just a regressed version of "Stops Copies Me" but about who had Pickles as his mom first. Skwisgaar said it was him first because he joined the band first, so Pickles was his mom first, but Toki says that Pickles is his mom first because Toki is the first person Pickles acted "motherly" too and the person Pickles is a legit caregiver too. Pickles had to separate them and give the "I love you both equally and are both of your moms" talk. Toki and Skwisgaar don't buy it.

🎸 Skwisgaar finds school supplies and busy work to be soothing. He likes the idea of sitting down and doing homework as a part of his regression. He remembers the calmness of doing homework at his kitchen table or sitting in class, and he misses it. Charles has a desk in his office just for Skwisgaar to do elementary level assignments. Sometimes it's math problems, sometimes it's history "fill-in" work sheets, sometimes it's science. He likes the repetitiveness of it. Charles even found some basic-level music class worksheets for him to do about tempo and the scales. Charles always grades them as well and gives them back to Skwisgaar. He's a steady A/B student.

🎸 The further Skwisgaar gets with his regression, the more likely he will let himself slip without noticing it. Which is usually fine, until he realizes that he's slipping when others slip, especially Toki. And since Toki is a involuntary regressor, that means that sometimes he finds himself slipping in public. In these cases, Skwisgaar has been recorded by the public doing non-typical adult-minded Skwisgaar things. Though, a lot of it revolves around being a "big brother" to Toki, or sometimes Murderface.

🎸 Skwisgaar and Murderface will sneak off to watch scary movies and eat junk food when they're regressed and then cry to Pickles when they get scared or have tummy aches. Nathan finds this hilarious that they both do that both regressed and not. Pickles finds it incredibly annoying but also endearing that they find him a safe space.

🎸 Skwisgaar gets scared easily when regressed. He's flung multiple things out of his hands and jumped more time then he can count. This isn't a trauma thing, he just gets easily spooked.

🎸 Murderface and him will read comic books together in silence or while listening to music. Skwisgaar has a preference for The Crow, Sandman, Thor, Tintin, and Asterix. He also likes the Smurfs but feels silly reading them so he'll only read them in private.

🎸 A memorable time while regressed was when he got really sick with the flu. He thought he would just lay in bed for a few days, take some medicine, eat, and sleep until he got better. However, Pickles wasn't having it. Skwisgaar was looked over and pampered by his band mates so much that he doesn't ever remembered consciously regressing, he just let it happen. They all took turns looked out for him. Pickles would rub his head while laying down to help him sleep and measure out his medicine for him. Toki made sure to bring bendy straws for his drinks and help him eat his soup. Nathan helped him get clean sheets on his bed so they wouldn't smell "sick" and religiously checked his temperature. Murderface would help clean him up and wash his face and hair. He was so regressed during this time that he hardly spoke and only requested his bandmates to take care of him, not the klokateers. Pickles held his hand when he went back to the doctor to do a check up.

🎸 He practices doing hair on Toki and Nathan. Sometimes it's good. Most of the time, it's not. But he does like to brush hair so it's at least brushed really well when he plays.

🎸 Because he is experimenting with regressing, he's also experimenting with ages. He has tried regressing as low at Toki, so there have been days where he tried being bottle fed or used a pacifier or act like a toddler. But those never felt right to him. The opposite is also true. He's tried being like Pickles, a bit more "grown up" but that doesn't work either. He doesn't want to be in that age range because it reminds him too much of having to grow up fast.

🎸 He needs help restringing his guitar when he's regressed. He always manages to snap his fingers.

🎸 He doesn't like having his hair down when he's small, he needs it up. So he usually puts it in a pony tail or Nathan puts it up in a claw clip or a bun. Claw clip isn't the favorite method though because Skwisgaar has fallen backwards and hurt himself on the clip.

🎸 Skwisgaar and Pickles have sleep overs in Skwisgaar's room. Both of them are usually regressed with Skwisgaar looking at Pickles like he's the coolest dude in the world. They also practice guitars a lot when they're regressed, so it feels like he's able to connect with someone.

🎸 Skwisgaar always wants fish or soup when he's small. Something about it just reminds him of home. Jean Pierre has become an expert on Swedish dishes, and even Toki has said that some of his dishes are better than the Norwegian version.

🎸 The guitarcicles in the freezer are for Skwisgaar only and he will throw a fit if one of them are gone. (They are never gone, no one likes them but him.)

🎸 He gets shy if you compliment his guitar playing. He doesn't know why persay but it makes him get butterflys.

🎸 He has used his height for evil and will hold things above Toki, Murderface, Pickles reach when he doesn't want them to have it. Nathan usually comes by and takes it from him.

🎸🐺🦅❄️💃👯‍♀️🌕🥇🎰🩲🎼⚖️🧴🚬⬜💋🍆💦🦴🍒🍑🍌

🎸 Toki and Skwisgaar will take outside naps together when they are small. If it's winter time, they will snuggle in one sleeping bag to conserve heat.

🎸 Car rides put Skwisgaar to sleep. The movement reminds him of moving all the time with his mom and the calmness before the shit storm.

Here we are once again! I hoped you enjoyed, Skwisgaar was a challenge. I do love him though :) If you have any other HCs, don't hesitate to tell me!

#metalocalypse #toki wartooth #skwisgaar skwigelf #dethklok #william murderface #nathan explosion #pickles the drummer #Agere Skwisgaar #Skwisgaar Agere #Age Regression Skwisgaar #Age Regressor Skwisgaar #Agere Skwisgaar Skwigelf

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unlikelyjapan · 1 year ago

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s2e6 rewatch notes - part 1

I'm breaking this up over two days (for length, clarity, and my own mental health) - I pause and scribble my way through scenes as I go, so there may be a few repeats here and there.

Natalie's bereft face in the opening, attempting to disassociate but failing miserably because that's not her coping style. She obviously doesn't even smoke by the way she's holding the cigarette, she just does it because - much like working inside a commercial kitchen - it's the only legitimate excuse for a break from the chaos. Both she and Mikey act like they've just exited the fog of war (because they have) and - unlike Carmy - they've never had the emotional or material means to escape it.

Sugar's "No one can make anyone else act a certain way" comment to Mikey - it's very clear that they perceive mental illness from very different angles. Mikey admonishes Natalie for her check-ins as an attempt to blunt/control Donna's outbursts, and Sugar's skepticism of Mikey's strategy of just riding the lightning/ignoring the outburst (while acknowledging that he and Carmy have more success, but she attributes most of that to being the female middle child of a grievously ill female narcissist).

Carmy coming out = a hot mess of family dynamics. He asks Mikey (innocently enough) to come in and handle the crowd by being "fun cool guy" and Mikey assures him that he will, but with a vacant look in his eye (no wonder this man was on drugs, what other choices was he afforded?). Fak is literally yelling indistinctly inside, upping the chaos, as Richie bursts outdoors amidst the three siblings to ask if "there's any family shit going on that he should know about".

Along with just trying to be ok themselves, these three adult Berzattos are a magnet for every other wayward adult-child who needs a home to reckon with their own trauma, and their inclusion becomes their problem as well and only ups the frequency of the despair. Mikey literally makes space for the three of them by dismissing Richie "for a minute", and you can tell that's not normal protocol.

"Would it kill you to pick up the phone?" - Carmy is already wounded by Mikey more than 4 years before his death. You can immediately tell by Mikey's earnest response (along with his previous discussion with Sugar) that he was just keeping Carmy at arms length to ensure he never returned, to spare just one of them from a life of hardship. In spite of everything else we see about Mikey and how poorly he manages his trauma in this episode, he is an inherently good brother who started early in inciting loathing in the person he loves above all others just to save him.

I wanted to peek behind the "Our Mother of Victory, Pray for Us" bit, as you know damn well it wasn't selected by Storer by accident. The whole idea is that Mary, the Mother of Victory "pleads our cause with a mother’s heart and concern with whatever we bring her. Confident that Our Lady’s prayers are always heard we pray"

I may be reading too much into this, but that's a whole fuckton of power projected onto Donna. Even though it's said in jest, its maternal compassion and mercy that was never extended to the Berzatto kids. It could also be seen as "only Donna's prayers are heard and answered" (through the placating and emotional gymnastics performed by her children) so they utter this little prayer to her as much as they do to God - for control, for relative calm, for the day to simply be ok. They know better than to expect much more than that.

What is the actual point of Fak and Ted? I mean this narratively. I know that the Ricky actor who plays Ted originally worked on the set of The Bear in S1. Did the producers think they had an awesome "boys club" vibe and just plop them in as chauvinistic comic relief? Or is this part of a long-con? Do Fak and Teddy embezzle all of The Bear's money and retreat to Hawaii or something? Right now it's giving "Matty Matheson needs to sell more cookware" and I need a reason for this set-up, as the rest of the players offer more than enough relevant chaos to the episode.

Also, when they ask "Mrs. B, are our skateboards in here? Can we sleep over?" as Donna is cycling in the kitchen - Matty Matheson is in his 40's, so he time-traveled back to a rough-looking 35 to freeload off of his fake-besties Mom and aid in her spiral? I don't get the age timelines/ideas on what arrested development in this show are anymore....

"Say the fucking words" - ooof. I feel like a lot of ink has already been spilled on what the word "love" means in the Berzatto realm, but no wonder Carmy can't comprehend it even when it's right in front of him. Love to him is sacrifice and struggle, panic attacks, pacifying meltdowns, idealization and inevitable betrayal (hello other shoe!), and just saying the word because it diffuses an argument - not unlike rubbing one's chest.

So....what's the likelihood that the abusive chef at EMP is just a projection of Donna living rent-free in Carmy's head at this point? The way she lobs the ball at Carmy with all of the elements that need to be swapped when the timer goes off, the practical matters of running a high-pressure kitchen trailed with jests and insults and total emasculation. Yeah...I think it's pretty high up there.

The second Richie and Carmy trade off the homemade Sprite (before Carmy can grab the prosciutto and mortadella that his mom asked for 2 seconds ago) is just enough silence for Donna to feel abandoned and start unravelling again/start screaming about moving the pot. I can't quite place my finger on the weird amalgam of mental illnesses they gave this woman (hit me up, psych majors) but if its not over-scripted/acted, its a lot.....

Richie and Mikeys "Just take a break from being a mopey little fuck" - phew, these dudes really think that a high-school chick will be Carmy's salvation.

"I don't have a love of my life?" Carmy doesn't even flinch or show recognition of who they're talking about at first, and then it dawns on him that they've probably embarrassed him and he wants to crawl in a hole and die (which is the most honest feeling expressed this episode to date).

And wow. Donna intercepts the whole thing by throwing a spoon at Stevie and screaming "Richard, bring her the fucking pop!" - a.k.a the title of the previous episode with the house party. Those words ended the gang's harassment re: Claire, but then future Carmy willingly waded right back into the abyss of thoughtless conversations, bullying, projections, others' expectations, and the terrible Christmas.

Ok, that's it for now - I'll be back on my bullshit tomorrow.

#the bear fx #the bear season 2 #the bear spoilers #the bear #carmen berzatto #carmy x sydney #carmy berzatto #mikey berzatto #sugar berzatto #the bear fishes #syd x carmy

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teecupangel · 2 years ago

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i have no idea what's going on i just saw an au idea about dc and assassin's creed n suddenly all my senses are alerted hello hi please do let me know more about it hi

Join the club. I don’t know what’s usually going on, I’m just writing what my mind comes up with when I’m given all these absolutely fantastic fic prompts XD

For those wondering:

The “Desmond gets adopted by Batman” idea that started this.

The “Desmond gets punted into the DC ‘verse and follows Constantine because he has no other plans” idea that spawned from that.

Slightly connected: the "Desmond becomes BFF with the Devil" (the Netflix show) idea where I remind everyone that Edward Kenway’s mocap and voice actor is John Constantine which has this little addition.

(Since we can go anywhere with where the hell in DC lore Desmond gets punted to, we’ll focus this AU after John leaves the Arrowverse but we’ll be keeping everything vague-ish so you guys can decide which DC ‘verse you’d prefer this to be in)

More unorganized Desmond in DC ‘verse with special focus on John Constantine’s ‘sphere of influence’

John’s leading theory is Desmond is possessed by various demons, maybe even a legion, and he’s letting Desmond tag along because it’s obvious that Desmond is still in control (most of the time) so John’s curious about this ‘anomaly’.

Also, the fact that his name is Desmond and he used to be a bartender makes John believes this is some kind of sick joke orchestrated by a high-ranking demon or one of his many enemies.

He still believes Desmond is an innocent who got wrapped up in all of these so he’s trying to help… in his own John Constatine-ish way.

Which includes (from @escapism-and-disassociation) muttering Latin exorcism chants like it’s a normal conversation and Desmond (using the knowledge he got from his Bleeds) just stares at him tiredly and continues their conversation before John started doing his exorcism in Latin just to screw with John.

John also tried making Desmond read the actual exorcism chants and Desmond just reads them in a tone of a Renaissance noble so bored with learning Latin and just wanting to go outside and play.

Many of John’s allies also think Desmond is possessed and it doesn’t help when Desmond likes screwing with them by changing his language midsentence on purpose and getting them to believe he’s ‘speaking tongues’.

Desmond treats all these theories of him being possessed with a shrug and a “yeah, sounds about right” because, in a sense, that is what the Bleeding Effect feels like at times.

Desmond and Chas like to hang out whenever John does his thing and they have nothing to do. Chas’ wife thinks Desmond is a good influence on Chas. Desmond is absolutely not since he’s been teaching him Ratonhnhaké:ton’s takedowns.

Speaking of Chas, Desmond and Chas do wonder if Desmond’s laser beam would work on him. John had to forbid the two from trying it out “for science”.

Zed has been having premonitions of Desmond even before Desmond got thrown into their world. One of them includes her painting of the exact moment that Desmond died in his original world. Another is a painting of Desmond that she insists was the painting of a god.

John has a lot of theories about it ranging from the main demon possessing Desmond used to be an old god or a demon who once pretended to be an old god to maybe Desmond is destined to be a god and the demons inside him are stopping that.

Desmond believes the god thing is a reference to how he would have been seen as a god back in his world if he had let the world burn.

Either way, Zed doesn’t like to come into contact with Desmond because she always gets this intense burning sensation before her psychic abilities kick in and she sees visions of Desmond’s life back in his world.

John likes to use Desmond as bait. Desmond doesn’t mind. His Bleeds does though.

John thinks Desmond’s Bleed of Edward is making fun of him, having the same accent and tone as him but drunker.

John can’t stand Desmond’s Bleed of Altaïr because he mainly asks so many questions and still finds a logical ‘scientific’ explanation to every mythical thing they encounter.

On the other hand, Desmond’s Bleed of Ezio tires John because that man likes to ask about God and how heaven works and…

In a nutshell, John prefers it when Desmond takes control.

To be fair, John is okay with Desmond’s Bleed of Ratonhnhaké:ton because Ratonhnhaké:ton doesn’t bother with small talk and focuses on the task at hand.

John likes Desmond’s Bleed of Haytham the most though because Haytham is polite but with a sharp tongue.

#assassin's creed #desmond miles #john constantine #dc universe #ask and answer #teecup writes/has a plot

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roanniom · 2 years ago

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i would be super interested in hearing about what your writing process is like! e.g. do you write large amounts in a few sittings, or sporadic bits across lots of sessions? do you edit as you go, or do you go back at the end for a once over? do you reread your work after it’s been posted? how do you get yourself to write when you may not be in the mood? how do you combat writers block? how do new ideas come to you? what’s your biggest motivation to write? etc. etc. etc. (that’s a lot of questions oops—don’t feel pressured to answer them all!!)

Hi anon! I love talking about my writing on here, so happy to answer.

I usually write large amounts. Generally speaking I will have a draft going and then I'll keep coming back to it, but most of a fic will be written in like three big spurts. It really depends on the piece. What often happens is I will work on it in bits and then finish the entire second half all in one sitting because I get impatient and I just want it done. I do not edit at all really. I do my best to catch typos, and after it's posted if I notice typos I will go back and try to adjust, but I don't sit and read through to edit. I also post it the SECOND it is finished. It's the reason I don't use any fun art or fancy formatting. I swear to god, it's like if I don't post something the MILLISECOND it is out of my brain I will jump out of my skin so I just yeet it into the void of tumblr and take a deep breath.

I reread my work all the time. The day I've posted something I'll usually read it because I kinda blackout when I write, so it is super fun for me to read and go "wow, that's cool, I like that" because I sort of disassociate. It feels like someone else wrote it because I don't remember writing it usually lol. And then I'll reread an old fic if someone reblogs it or engages with it and I realize I don't remember it well.

First and foremost I write for me. I write what I am entertained by, I write what turns me on, I write what I fantasize about. That's why, despite my definitive intention to write inclusive reader characters, I predominantly write fem!reader - this is wish fulfillment for me and I do it to benefit me lol. So I enjoy rereading my own fics because they are tailormade to my taste, my kinks, my preferences. Not saying I do it constantly, but yep! I read them.

Inspiration is easy. Everyone on here is just as feral as I am and I am lucky enough that people send me in really juicy requests and thots and would you rathers and those are amaaaaazing jumping off points. My problem is that people send me way more good ideas than I have the time to write so my inbox and drafts are FULL.

As for writing and getting in the mood - I do not make myself write if I'm not in the mood. This is not my job. Nobody is paying me to do this. I only do it because I feel like it, so if I don't feel like it, I do not force myself to do anything.

With writer's block, that only happens on part 2s and 3s. It's the reason I am mainly a one shot bitch. The pressure builds and gets to me and it makes it easier to put writing off. I'm trying to become better about it, but also be kind to myself because, again, I am doing this for fun.

What's lucky is that I often AM in the mood, so that's not an issue. Inspiration comes from reading other people's fics to be honest. I LOVE reading fic, even more than writing it, so I consume a lot. What often happens is I'll read a fic and expect it to go a certain way and if it doesn't I'll go "hmmm...well now I will write that." Or if I realize I like a tone or something, I mentally begin riffing on it and decide to write it my own way. I read a lot of romance novels, too (many of which are a LOT shittier than some of the amazing fanfics I've read) and that keeps me well versed in tropes and conventions and I like to try my hand at different ones.

Last but not least....I'm very horny and very repressed and very bored lol.

I've said it before and will say it again - I write this stuff because I don't have it my life and this is my kind of manifestation. <3

#anon #fic writing #hope this ranting answer helps in any way!!!

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drakinq · 1 month ago

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112524

Winthrop Harbor, IL 9:47AM

I made it through the weekend but it’s another weird day in my head. I couldn’t wait for nunu to leave the house so I could get up and enjoy sometime alone. We haven’t talked in days and I can tell we are really fed up with each other. I’m ready to go my own way. I’ve been laying on the couch and I already took my adderall. I’m def gonna start the day cleaning up and few other self care things. I’m noticing through the disgust in the pit of my stomach that’s been there everyday since Tuesday. Part of me thinks it’s because I’m disgusted the people closest to me that say they care about me the most can’t even handle me with a little bit of gentleness and empathy during one of the hardest times of the year for me, that some played a hand in trauma directly. But as well as it being my first birthday without my mom… yeah that’s definitely making me sick to my stomach. As well as another night of tossing and turning. I feel like I have to avoid being around my family right now especially because I’m currently in a place of triggered. Part of me feels like I’m reliving the 16th birthday over again. Not only do I feel like I have to avoid them but I feel like I can’t even say how I feel because they will think I’m wrong for feeling the way I do. Which is okay. I think this needs to happen because I think I need to keep start and actually keep this distance for good. Because I know it works, but I’m always fooled into believing my family shows growth. My family is shown me who they are, and I’ve shown them who I am. & I don’t think we have a lot of acceptance for one another and our past experiences that make us who we are today. With that being said I don’t know any other solution but distance and prayer. I want to remind myself that I have nothing to prove to anyone but God and myself. My feelings are valid. And my hope is with the Lord. I do believe he will bring me out of the wilderness. As I’m reading through the beginning of the Bible, I’m seeing the parallels between my life and the Israelites. The instructions he’s giving them through the wilderness. Although I know God is using this to give me clear instructions, I think there’s a bigger lesson that he wants me to learn from every valley and wilderness he’s ever brought me through and I think that’s holding fast to him during the storm while he’s getting you to the land of milk and honey and you being alive and well to experience his blessings and what that actually means. The Israelites made it so hard for God to do his job he didn’t even want to go with them anymore. They kept complaining, sinning and questioning God before he could even fully give them instructions or the vision of what he had in store from them. Moses hadn’t even come down from mt. Sinai with the ark of covenant and they were already celebrating another God. It makes me reflect on all the times I’ve complained, sinned and doubted God while I was in the valley, leaning into things that make being in the wilderness easier and cope-able for me, thinking Gods that’s gonna be cool until God brings me out of the wilderness. Gods not even gonna let me see the blessings if I don’t abide by his commands. Holding fast to him means obeying his commands and trusting his promises even when it’s hard. Still being able to abide by his commands when it’s hard. Still being able to treat people with kindness even when it’s hard. Not leaning into the ways that aren’t of him to help me get through the heavy emotions, crisis circumstances. Not complaining about being in valley when you begged the lord to get you out of the last situation and that’s exactly what he’s doing. Not leaning towards the easiest solutions to making me feeling better that dishonor the God I serve. & I’m guilty of all these things. Sleeping around in LA because I wanted to disassociate, not having enough discipline to knuckle down in LA when I asked God to make it work there for me. Complaining about all the obstacles I went through when I created a lot of them myself. Complaining about my life in Chicago that God and I worked so hard to build

#drakinq #journal

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skinni-girls-eat-books · 8 months ago

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Wednesday, April 24th, 2024!

Day 9 :) 🥳

6:23am: God I feel amazing right now I'm so proud of myself :') I love my life. Did a little grocery shopping last night, new litter box, gonna get my brakes done today. Life is good! Amen!! Everyday is a new day and I get to live it however I choose to. ❤️

11:40pm: Day 9 complete! It feels like 9 months. I'm not even joking. Once you start dating other people it's just like who? My focus is elsewhere. Texting a guy for two nights straight and don't know what to think?? Kinda odd, seems kinda nervous as hell but I don't know why exactly. Definitely a little neuro spicy but I can't specify. I think he thinks we're exclusive but we haven't met in person yet?? Don't really want to burst his bubble but that's not exactly how I work rn. Unadded me from tinder after having a semi serious conversation with him but again..... I haven't seen you in person yet so it's not really giving exclusive to me homie. Plus he literally declined my date offer for Tuesday night after I asked him yesterday if weeknights were ok to hang. It's giving weeknights are ok to bang but not hang? 🚩🚩 It's giving 1,2,3 strikes you're out but I'm not one to call it quits so fast 😂 not gonna slow my roll for someone who doesn't like nerd nite 🤓 lame-o.

On the bright side, I did have a hella stressful day and talking to him was a really good distraction from me spiraling about money, so I'll give him that ❤️ I just don't know if I can do another neuro spicy guy that I can't read very well. $300 car stuff turned into $700 unexpectedly but it is what it is. Cheaper than a car accident!!! 🙏🙌 Glad they caught it because I didn't know anything was wrong. SEE this is why I hate my tire light. Yesterday it was 60* today it was 85* and keeps doing that aka that's why I thought the light was on. No I literally had a bent rim that was disassociating from my tire 🤦‍♀️ Could've been a damn nightmare on the highway. They should have two tire lights, one for BS and one for serious 😂

Tomorrow is the final grind and then we'll really kick this shit off Friday I suppose. Could kick off tomorrow but it just wouldn't feel right to me. I know I'm good but it's not the same until you walk out of that exam review.

Still need to continue to work on myself, find friends, Meetup groups and hobbies, gym classes, things that make me an interesting person. You're getting there, I love you.

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on-till-morning · 1 year ago

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@thesherrinfordfacility Hiii!! Thank you for taking the time and sharing this in depth response! So much food for thought here! Also lol to the brain hurts but the heart sings - the story of my GO s2 experience! Ok here are my thoughts back:

Trauma is definitely not an excuse for bad behavior, ever, and I did not mean to imply that it was. Crowley and Aziraphale both have what appears to be trauma informed behavior over secrecy and transparency that results in them both lying and being cagey, but they are both presented as adults/ancient occult/etherial beings and are def 100% responsible for their actions. And I agree that we see A take more responsibility for his actions than we see C do.

If Crowley were a real person, I would say that he shows signs of disassociating on some sort of regular basis. This has always colored my view of him. But he is not a real person and the main reason why I recently joined Tumblr and now spend countless hours obsessively thinking and reading essays about fictional characters is that I’m interested in studying character from a narrative and storytelling frame (I’m studying this in other places too, but Tumblr has turned out to be an incredible, free, fun and seemingly endless resource!).

From a narrative POV, I agree that your assessment of the bench and hell hound convo is C showing his superiority (which I agree he has) and this probably makes more sense than it being a disassociation lapse. I also prefer plot and arcs that involve the characters having more agency rather than less (not a coffee theory truther) and while I also think memory loss will be in s3 I would hope the implied memory wipe would not be shown as the main or strong reason for Crowley’s lying or other problematic behavior. It, along with theoretical disassociation, could play some part in his inability to keep track of things, or not.

Ahhhh your whole point about him potentially asking god for forgiveness and hearing nothing back and that being part of his arc and why forgiveness is so triggering!!! I am also blown away by your theory around his trauma. I am only realizing now that I was making assumptions based on the popular consensus that C’s trauma is from his fall, rather than really investigating that - another reason why I appreciate your meta posts so much! - and I can absolutely follow your argument about his trauma developing over time as a result of god not learning. Fascinating and such an interesting point with the forgiveness piece!

Having now thought about it more, I still personally think the “fall” - whatever that even was and whoever was responsible - plays some part of C’s trauma and learned behavior. As trauma affects everyone differently and is difficult to track, it’s possible, as you theorize, that C was actually fine with “falling” but becomes increasingly upset and traumatized with gods behavior over the centuries (and also has some probable trauma over secrecy with hell especially in the 1800’s), however, to play devil’s advocate (pun intended) it is also possible that he’s compartmentalized the full ramifications of “falling” and how much it did and will affect him, possibly up until the Job episode which I think contains some triggering events which are: 1) He sees someone questioning god, which we’re told he did, and not only is Job not smitted (smitten?) but this is the moment, right after the questioning, when Job’s possessions, status and safety are returned to him sevenfold and 2) C sees A work with a demon and lie to angels directly and there is no striking him down from above (as an aside - with the amount of times that A does not toe the party line it seems that he would have “fallen” if a supposedly omniscient being is in charge of who’s an angel and who’s a demon, so there’s also some amount cognitive dissonance happening for both of them with having to hold the knowledge they both have that A doesn’t follow the rules as they’ve been told or implied and yet still retains his angel status for millennia). These triggering incidents could force C’s brain to start looking at and processing his own until then compartmentalized trauma over being kicked out from heaven because of asking questions and/or for hanging out with the wrong people and could account for his subsequent colder treatment of A at the cruxifixction (though that event would also be enough to warrant a colder treatment) and then later at Rome.

Again though, not a real person, so the point (I think) is - what is the author trying to tell us and what journey is this character going on? How much of his characteristics are deliberately trauma informed? Questions only Neil Gaiman has the answers to, but I still think about!

Ok, on to my ask. Ah, so you see the bench scene in s1 re: hell hound as the point where A has actually made the choice to take matters into his own hands, as opposed to where I was seeing it at the end of e2 when C calls and A tells him over the phone that he has no news (and while he hasn’t learned Adam’s address yet we are shown overlays of prophecies about Armageddon so A is on the track of learning something here and lies to C). I did not get this on my first or —nth rewatch and therefore was not following the connection from the bench and the antichrist kill ask to this telephone call a full episode + later with no other mention or reference to this ask along the way. However, rewatching yet again, I agree with this assessment and I even see the shift in language with “*we* should be there (at the birthday party). Maybe *I* can stop the dog.” And I agree that it’s more than just the ask (yes, I read the piece you referenced and agree A’s response is not the most moral either) it’s also that he’s realizing C’s plan only goes so far and furthermore C is not telling him everything he knows.

Thanks for rambling with me!!

Wow, I just fell down the rabbit hole of your master meta list a few days ago and am thoroughly enjoying every minute of the ride. Your analyses are discerning, clear, compassionate and fascinating. I have a thought to add to a question you posed and a question I would love to get your insight on.

First though I want to preface both notes by saying how much I appreciate your thoughtful and articulate analysis of Crowley’s character, as well as Aziraphale’s, but particularly the flaws in both, and particularly the flaws in Crowley’s, which covers areas of his character that are so often overlooked (antichrist kill foist off is offender #1). I love both of these characters, and the fandom, and I have also noticed a tendency in fanfic as well as some portion of the fandom to cast Crowley as the romantic hero, utterly devoted to A, completely besotted, wrapped around A’s finger, demon with a heart of pure gold - when from all we’ve been shown in canon he’s much more complex (they both are) and much more self serving, as well as much more manipulative - though who knows how consciously this manipulation is done, based on where he (and A) came from, which is what I get into more in this note.

(There’s also this distilling I see happening to One hero (C) and One damsel/object for him to rescue and pine over (A) rather than seeing them both as equal hero/ines and culprits both and I could definitely write a whole essay about why we as a culture are primed to look for, see and then die on the hill of these roles, but I am going to try and stay on point here.)

Point #1: in relation to a question posed in this post: https://www.tumblr.com/thesherrinfordfacility/725485403433484288/lwa-lol-no-that-wasnt-me-i-wasnt-surprised

In regards to - why does Crowley hide the full play by play of the execution from A?

My thought is that it could be due to his trauma.

In s1 he references falling due to “only” asking questions. He’s shown directly asking god a question once with visible fear and the fate of the entire planet at stake at motivator for why he would risk this again. He yells at A about god acting in mysterious ways and “not talking to anyone about it” which feels like an important comment for him to make - the not talking about things to anyone. There’s already enough here to conclude that he has trauma is based around information, questions, secrecy and transparency. On a conscious and/or subconscious level he’s learned truth/openness/questions/transparency = Not Safe. This is confirmed with what we see of AWCW in s2 when it’s confirmed that he was asking questions and wanting full transparency (and in s2 we see him completely floored by Job just being able to ask god questions). Thus we get the post-fall Crowley who puts on a very carefully constructed mask of an appearance, literally masking the arguably most expressive part of his face, and who has a habit of chronically not telling the whole story or sometimes any part of the story whatsoever. While I agree with your many insightful analyses about this coming from his desire to be the hero for Aziraphale (limiting/controlling A’s agency) and for his own hero narrative, I think that’s one part of it and that there are other times (like the question in this post) when he hides things for no clear reason, and I think it’s both from the initial trauma as well as his added trauma from being an agent of hell who had to really double down on “transparency is not safe” to survive in hell for millennia.

For example, in s1e1 on the bench at the zoo C casually mentions the hell hound as though A should already know about this, then seems sort of surprised that A doesn’t know this and then rolls right into dismissing its importance. This always felt like a trauma response to me, having personally witnessed a lot of examples of disassociation from trauma in my line of work, specifically trauma related to sharing information/asking questions. My take was that he doesn’t remember not telling A, but doesn’t want to admit that, so he acts like it doesn’t matter. And now that we officially have the implication from s2 that there’s a memory wipe to deal with on top of his (probable) disassociation, which makes me wonder how much Crowley honestly knows that he’s telling and how much he’s honestly intending to conceal. I agree that he hides that he’s living in the Bentley to preserve his image to Aziraphale and that that’s a deliberate choice, but I wonder overall if he’s even able to keep track of what he’s saying and not saying.

This is actually giving me a new thought as of now about the final 15 - when he’s confronted by Maggie and Nina and he says “oh yeah we talk all the time, been talking for /millions/ of years.” The millions could just be an exaggeration, just like I think him saying that “they’ve spent their existence pretending that they’re not” is a dramatic exaggeration, but maybe he has no idea how long they’ve actually known each other? And a vague sense of what they’ve even talked about? I’ve worked with people who have trauma and disassociation from families that kept secrets and refused to answer questions and sometimes they remember what really happened, sometimes they remember the family lie, and sometimes they’ve deleted the incident entirely-sometimes all this from one person during different conversations. Anyway, this could add another layer of context to why, instead of breakfast at the ritz, he’s suddenly determined to have the conversation he’s not entirely sure how much of that they’ve previously had or haven’t had and isn’t sure how to say it and is not catching on to everything A is trying to express (and as to what tf that is boy have I had questions, and your posts have offered a lot of insight that hadn’t occurred to me - a dm for another time.)

But to go back to the question of why not tell A everything that went down in the execution - you’d think he’d be happy to rely the entire incident to prove both A wrong in choosing heaven sort of in s1 (part of my question in the next message) and/or prove his point about heaven being as wrong as hell. Instead we are never shown him sharing the details and it seems implied that he hasn’t. Based on his trauma—maybe it’s because he’s so used to keeping secrets at this point, maybe it’s because it’s useful to have information only he knows that might benefit him at some point in the future, and/or maybe he’s having a trauma response to the entire incident and is completely disassociating, either from his own fall or because of his feelings for A or both. When he confronts Jim/briel about it he only does so after we see him pour out the last of a bottle of wine he drank alone and it’s definitely not a well thought out confrontation. It feels emotional and spur of the moment, and at least one bottle of wine is involved, which tracks with the state people sometimes need to be in to confront a traumatic memory. And going back to how he’s had to learn to keep secrets and possibly disassociates - does he even know he hasn’t given A the whole play by play? He tells him Gabriel wanted to throw him in hellfire - maybe he honestly thinks he’s told A the whole story and that’s part of his fury and rejection of A wanting to help Jim. He’s such an unreliable narrator, and there’s both the memory wipe and disassociation at play - we just don’t know.

Anyway, thank you for reading this far if you have! Part 2 to follow with my question and I promise it will be much shorter! 🙏

oh my goodness, hi @on-till-morning!!!✨

what a lovely couple of messages to wake up to, that's so kind of you to say and im so happy that you like my ramblings!!! thank you ever so much!!! I hope you don't mind, but I've condensed both of your really thought-provoking asks into one, just so hopefully my answer flows a bit better?

screenshot of second ask, and answer, under the cut!!!

lets get cracking!!!✨ i really like your analysis on crowley's learned behaviour that transparency is not a concept with which he feels comfortable, and this is represented in not only how he physically presents himself, but also in his actions and behaviours - that secrecy, and keeping to the dark, is safer and offers more protection. it's well argued and supported, and I do agree that there must be a factor of this at play in his characterisation.

i think the thing that i take issue with in parsing out crowley's trauma (because he evidently has it - and your ask summarises elements of this beautifully) is that many associate his trauma to the fall. but honestly? that reason has never sat entirely comfortably with me. my first draft of this response had about nine vaguely-argued reasons for this, but i've narrowed it down to two specific points:

* * * * *

his body language, delivery, and general behaviour both on the wall of eden, and in mesopotamia, do not match with what i would recognise as a trauma response to the fall - in fact, his characterisation is much closer to that of AWCW's rather than the crowley we later see. we could read this as dissociation, but i personally don't think it's this at all. his behaviour changes after the flood, and going into ACtO, which indicates to me that his bitterness and resentment doesn't stem from the fall itself, but from the fact that - in his eyes - god has not learnt anything from the fall. now, we as the audience can have our speculation on who caused the fall, was it meant to happen, what is god's true will, etc. but from crowley's perspective, he is witnessing continuous events where god and heaven are causing unnecessary suffering, disguised as tests and trials, right up until 2019 - "you said you were going to be testing them, but you shouldn't test them to destruction..." - where the apocalypse is just a line too far.

we then also have the mirrored conversation between ACTO and the bandstand scene in s1:

c: "what do you know about what i want" // c: "i won't be forgiven, not ever."

a: "i know you."

c: "you do not know me." // c: "that's part of a demon's job description. 'unforgivable', that's what i am."

a: "...i know the angel you were-" // a: "you were an angel once."

c: "the angel you knew is not me." // c: "that was a long time ago."

2. cont'd: crowley's last lines for me here are rather opposite in sentiment. in the first, he's bitter and dismissive, categorically distancing himself as the person he is in ACtO from the angel to whom aziraphale is referring; that they are two separate entities and never the twain shall meet. in the bandstand scene, he acknowledges his former angelic self, and by doing so appears to have somewhat reconciled that this former person is in fact part of him. that suggests to me, in part, some form of healing; that doesn't mean that he isn't still confused or angry about the fall and some trauma may be underlying, but it strikes me that this is a part of his history that doesn't have the same sting as it once did.

(still cont'd): it is however his assertion that he is unforgivable that is the most interesting to me in this scene, because to me his conclusion for this fact confers to me two possible eventualities that we have not seen in the narrative:

a) he may have at some point asked god for forgiveness, not gotten an answer, and has accepted that (which corresponds neatly to his aversion to "i forgive you", and "[god] not talking to any of us"), or

b) that this is a rhetoric that has been drummed into him from hell (which i'm less inclined to support as fully; the first option is supported narratively, and this option would suggest that crowley listens to hell in any capacity - but that being said, this could be contributory to his carriage and personality shift between mesopotamia and uz).

(to be honest, both of these could be true, and feed into each cyclically - hell tells him he's unforgivable, god doesn't disagree, on and on it goes.)

* * * * *

now, both of the above could be turned entirely on its head by taking into account the memory-wipe theory. i do think memory manipulation is going to play some part in s3, and explaining some parts of the issues with crowley and his recount of the fall, but i'm reluctant to fully chalk everything up to the fact that it was because crowley can't remember it - i think this potentially erases too much accountability on his part for his own actions. this is similar to how I feel about his actions being excused by trauma; whilst i certainly believe that some of his decisions and actions are, like you said, potentially borne out of trauma, and that makes elements of his actions understandable and empathetic, it does not give him license to shirk accountability for them, nor make them justifiable.

but in essence, as it currently stands, i agree that crowley has issues with transparency and openness; i'm just not convinced this is wholly to do with the fall, but instead that he takes issue with fact that god/heaven has not learnt from the fall. saying it again - this for me is apparent in the "you said you would be testing them, but you shouldn't test them to destruction..." line; he's, as you said, concerned for the fate of the world, especially if you consider that like the fall, like the flood, and like job, it's all set up as a test. in his mind - why hasn't god learnt from the last time they tried to test something to destruction? why would god encourage this on the innocent, those that are still learning - those that are just asking questions? i think crowley has largely accepted what happened to him, but cannot understand why it seems to him that only he is the one to see that it shouldn't be repeated.*

this is what i think 'his side' in job is largely borne from, and is the beginning of his propensity towards embodying a hero-narrative. to be completely reductive about it, i think sometimes crowley does see himself as the saviour of the story (certainly supported by some of his lines in s2), and aziraphale to be either - as you put it - the damsel/object character in the piece, and/or the sidekick. when aziraphale speaks up and offers himself as an equal party, this rocks that dynamic - so like the bench scene where crowley mentions the hellhound, and aziraphale challenges him, this could in part be dissociation (far be it for me to argue with a - i'm surmising - MH professional, of course!), but i personally read this as superiority. crowley didn't think it was important information because he was sure his plan would work (and that the dog would be sent away unnamed), and therefore it never came up because he deemed it irrelevant. it's only when aziraphale entertains the possibility that the hellhound could derail the scheme that the narrative track changes, to which aziraphale offers up a solution (to stop the dog).

when it comes to lying about living in the bentley, i do like your point that crowley may not be able to actually keep track of what he's revealing and what he's concealing, but this again comes back to my personal aversion to this being a side-effect of the memory wipe theory or indeed a result of dissociation through trauma. i personally think crowley is just a very good, and prolific, liar. he asks aziraphale in s1 if "[he] would lie to [him]", as if he doesn't, but we know that he does. we literally see him lie (largely by omission, granted) to aziraphale throughout s1 and s2, and he certainly has a proclivity for lying to everyone else (i realise that hell are portrayed as being a little bit dim, but i don't think that's wholly true - i think crowley shrewdly capitalises on their little understanding of earth and its goings-on). i think this goes some way to arguing that him getting caught up in figurative knots is not due to misremembering what he reveals/conceals, but instead that he perhaps tells so many half-truths that he can't keep them straight anymore.

i completely agree with your reading of crowley's lines about knowing aziraphale for "millions of years" etc. there is no timescale before The Beginning that can be quantified, and so 'millions of years' does probably hit the mark as close to the truth as we or he can describe to humans (how do you tell humans with a lifespan of c. 85 years that you have known another being beyond infinity, beyond time?). but 'been talking to [aziraphale]' for that time? same as you, it strikes me as an exaggeration based off of the narrative we have so far - we only have the one pre-fall scene, and if consider how they react to each other on the wall of eden, and the times they meet thereafter... that doesn't quite ring true in the way that i think crowley thinks he means. they were acquaintances, at best, for a good proportion of their association.

the same goes for "spent our entire existence pretending that we aren't [a group of the two of us]"- this reads to me as a complete romanticisation of their dealings with each other, especially in the earlier days of their history where the narrative only supports that they came together at certain points, and even out of those points only a couple showed them working in tandem with each other. even the arrangement is indicated to be borne out of self-serving interest; of course, crowley might have internally meant it as a way of getting to spend more time with aziraphale, or that during the course of the arrangement it came to mean that, but we have no narrative confirmation of either. so, I essentially refer back to my point about lying: it seems to me that crowley is able to lie to others well, but potentially to no one better than himself. i personally don't think it's anything to do with his memory, even if only for the view that i think it would remove too much accountable characterisation from him. i'd rather he be fundamentally flawed in true character than an external force dictate his character for him - same as aziraphale and the coffee theory, in essence.

when we come to the hellfire execution, i do think in part it's because crowley's scared as a result of what happened, and what it directly means for aziraphale's safety - a trauma response, like you said. but i don't think that's the whole reason. i do still think, as i said in the LWA response you linked, that it's in part because he wants to shelter aziraphale from knowing how much of an outsider he is to heaven, something that he knows is important to aziraphale, even if it would be in crowley's interests to tell aziraphale exactly this - in this respect, this is truly a grey-area decision in which crowley responds arguably selflessly. but i do also think it's potentially crowley misappropriating aziraphale's trust in him. that crowley sees himself as aziraphale's saviour, and responsible for his safety, to the point of removing any agency from aziraphale to be a key player in his own safeguarding, and crowley tends to him like he's made of glass, pushing away unseen forces that he thinks would make him smash. we see that aziraphale is able to protect himself, he's more than capable of it (and we know that crowley on some level knows this too), but he chooses to interpret crowley's... mothering? as something that makes crowley happy, essentially encouraging it, even when he recognises that it's dismissive of his own capability. what this says about aziraphale's view of himself is another post, however.

but this take on crowley believing himself to be responsible for aziraphale's safety feels especially pertinent when you look at ep4; aziraphale's life (such as it is) is in crowley's hands, and aziraphale is trusting him to miss. there's arguably no actual teamwork here, and to be honest there isn't even really a stake; aziraphale is handing over everything to crowley (he doesn't actively do anything himself to work with crowley to ensure he isn't shot) and they could easily have walked off stage when realising their miracles don't work. but, at aziraphale's insistence, crowley plays along and is put in a position of needing to succeed. this situation is entirely a reflection on aziraphale - he should have called it off, and had many opportunities to do so up until the actual rifle fire - but crowley potentially takes this to mean that aziraphale can't be trusted with his own safety (and this is arguably a belief that i think crowley's held since at least 1793, but probably before). its immediately countered later in the dressing room, however, where aziraphale is the one to save crowley in an instance where there actually are high-risk stakes, but crowley doesn't even acknowledge this in the bookshop afterwards. i think his mind is made up by that point: his role in aziraphale's existence is predominantly to shelter and protect him, especially from himself, and *harks back to where i think crowley's trauma stems from; that he's the only one to see when something is wrong, so he considers it entirely up to him to play saviour - the hero - because no one else can be trusted to see it or do it.

going into your second ask; why aziraphale chooses not to tell crowley about the antichrist. i think it's something that was in another LWA ask(?) but my thoughts are this; crowley has just proposed that aziraphale kill the antichrist. now, we don't have a confirmed reason as to why crowley tries to get aziraphale to do this; it could be that he just really doesn't want to kill children (which, post-job, fair enough), it might be because killing the antichrist himself would send alarm bells to hell that one of their own is working to thwart armageddon by killing their master's child (whereas aziraphale could get away with it), or because he's testing aziraphale to see how far he is willing to go along with crowley on this scheme. it could be all three, plus others, but nothing is confirmed, and the way that crowley broaches this topic is immoral. it comes back to the old standby of a lack of meaningful communication between the two of them; had crowley explained any of these reasons, and asked aziraphale to kill the antichrist, aziraphale may still have refused, but it would have gone some way to giving justification for the ask in the first place, and kept them working as a team. the only reason we get is at the bandstand, "i'm not personally up for killing kids" which, in my eyes, does nothing to help crowley's case here.

but in any case, aziraphale is visibly uncomfortable with it. LWA pointed out in their ask yesterday that aziraphale's responses for not killing a child are arguably just as indicative of a lack in morality as crowley tempting him to it in the first place, and this is true - but his actions after finding out where adam was speaks volumes. it's my personal thought that he is safeguarding adam in the only hands that he knows, at this point, will not harm him: his own. if he tells crowley, he suspects crowley will pressure him into killing adam (which, actually, is the case in ep6 - "until he grows up?! shoot him, aziraphale! - and aziraphale is only stopped by madame tracy). aziraphale has the pretty clear affirmation that heaven/the archangels are not on the side of humanity. so, his last resort is god herself, whom he tries to reach but gets blocked by the metatron who reiterates the party line. aziraphale reassesses, immediately calls crowley to bring him up to speed, and formulate a plan to get to tadfield before everyone else does.

the thing is, the hero narrative for me (once again, something that an ask from my best buddy LWA helped me begin to parse out) swaps immediately on that bench scene. aziraphale takes control, comes up with the solutions to the problems that are being thrown in their path; as you said - stopping the hellhound, returning to tadfield for further reconnaissance, and engaging the WA. these instances, to me, literally show that whilst they're working together, they're not fully working as a team; crowley rather spectacularly messed up on multiple counts, and aziraphale had to claw back some semblance of a cohesive plan to bring everything back to rights. i therefore don't think he's entirely unjustified for the "you" language in the car, given that it was crowley that lost the boy/knows his birthday. if anything, crowley desperately switching to "we" doesn't suggest teamwork to me, but suggests avoidance of any blame that, tbh, sits far more on his shoulders than on aziraphale's, it's the unreliable narrator thing again; same as when he says, "so the humans beat me to it, that's not my fault", he's not accepting any responsibility or accountability for events derailing where he's had an active part in, whether the mistake was innocent or not.

as for aziraphale changing the subject when crowley asks what they do with the child once they find him, bear in mind that crowley nearly runs over a pedestrian, which is the ultimate subject-change here! but then yes, aziraphale does change the subject - because if he can't come up with an answer, is crowley about to suggest they kill the kid again? specifically, that aziraphale kill the child? it's still a boundary that aziraphale is unwilling to cross, but he doesn't have a better idea to counter it (thinking about it, this gives me the same feeling as the resurrectionist episode; when morag dies, crowley practically goads aziraphale for his lack of action. it's not unwarranted, but it is arguably unkind).

when aziraphale picks up the book from the car when they get back to soho, i too think (given god's narration over his particular interest in books of prophecy) aziraphale simply gets distracted. which is a particularly bonehead move given the circumstances, admittedly, because there's nothing at that point to indicate that answers to the antichrist problem would definitely be in the book... it's practically incidental that he comes across the 666 prophecy (i won't be getting into the weeds of parsing out divine intervention, not here!). but his first reaction is to go to archangels with the information, because his naive faith that heaven would want the same for the world as he does (ie. for it to survive, protect the innocent) does logically trump the benefits of telling crowley at this point, now that things have gone to shit.

when that doesn't work, he lies to crowley at the bandstand, but to safeguard the child's safety by doing so. this is, to my mind, the most ethical thing aziraphale can do at this point (and is another instance of where aziraphale, despite crowley being the one to preach the concept to him, is able to more successfully navigate the grey than crowley is). aziraphale is practically left in a position where he does have to operate on his own and by his own terms, because the alternative is not an option. it all roots back to where crowley, imo, should have never entertained tempting aziraphale to kill a child - especially one that by the point of the bandstand aziraphale knows would have been a complete innocent - without either giving full context as to why he was asking, or indeed should have entertained different options to resolve the issue, rather than double down on it at the bandstand.

this is probably the most rambling of my ask responses to date, @on-till-morning, so congratulations!!!✨ i think my bottom line is that i'm entirely empathetic to any trauma crowley (or indeed aziraphale) has, and how it affects their actions in the narrative, but ultimately i do not see it as an excuse; these are beings that are capable of acting and behaving morally and ethically, and it seems that they both fall short of that time and time again - especially the instances where they fail each other. lots of lessons to be learnt in s3!!!

please feel free to come back at any time; these length and complexity of asks make my brain hurt, but my heart sing!!!✨

#good omens meta #good omens #good omens s1 #good omens s2 #crowley #aziraphale #trauma #specifically #Crowley’s trauma

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mcfanely · 2 years ago

Text

I've had this post sitting in my drafts from around the middle of December, since it had gotten to the point where I'd basically done no substantial art for a good few weeks; and now staring at this post again at the end of December with an unfinished commission on my iPad that I'd hoped I'd have done by the end of November - I thought it would be a good idea to logically think about how to deal with things in the near future, and subsequently make a decision which is painful but also the right one for me right now.

Things aren't really going well currently, alongside a few medical issues in the family, and work and not sleeping well being the sorta base problems I've been dealing with for a few months, I've not exactly been feeling much of anything recently and it's just getting worse. Anxiety and depression is a general thing that I've lived with for years, but right now it's just kicking my ass in a way I haven't experienced before and I'm floundering so much, I'm just floating through days and barely remembering them, and I'm aware I'm disassociating a lot of the time and I feel like I'm drowning-

So I need to step back from art, to take at least one thing off my plate so I'm not extremely stressed over something I thoroughly enjoy.

FYI There are event prizes that I will 100% honour, those aren't going to be put aside. And the two commissions I have going right now will be continued till completion.

Yet as for general commissions and my own art overall, there's no motivation there. I hope to hell there will be a love for it soon (and dammit I'm sure there will be) but right now I'm not exactly enjoying much at all, art is just a thing that I usually love so much - it's what I use to relax, I used to do it for hours in a day and love every second and now, I think I've done maybe two hours of it over the past month overall?

Know that I am so, so damn sorry, god I just hoped that I'd be better by this time but I've never felt worse - I'm so sorry that I'm having to step back from commissions that people would have been excited for, I'm sorry that you've trusted me with your lovely ideas and I'm just not able to provide them anymore

If you do have a commission slot with me, and are willing to wait until I eventually decide to open my commissions again, then do message me and I'll put you on a list for the first slots I have available when I reopen them

This will definitely not be forever, I promise it won't because I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have art in my life. But consistently telling people that I'm unable to honour their commission slot as a new month rolls around is in no way fair, not when there are many artists that have their commissions open and can provide a service that I'm currently unable to give

I'm going to spend an hour or so getting in touch with those who have commissions with me and giving some big apologies, but this is just an umbrella post to keep people looped in as to why I'm probably not going to be active much with posting art or the like, I'll be back, I will, but I need time away from things and I'm very sorry

This was very long winded, whether you read it or not, thank you so much for just enjoying what I do! It always means the world to see the support I have for my art and I'm sorry I have to let you down like this

I'll still be here, active over socials, just a lot quieter, and hopefully getting better

I hope you all understand 💙 love you all, and again, I'm extremely sorry for this situation 💙💙

#mcfanely rants #irl #mcfanely commissions

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touyasdoll · 3 years ago

Note

Early Established Relationship Shouta & Reader, but they haven’t talked about having kids yet and Reader just found out she’s pregnant. She’s worked herself up in anxiety over how Shouta will take it. This is not helped by him coming home from teaching, having had a hellish day and grumbling about “problem children” and thankful that he only has to deal with kids for a few hours.

Hearing that, Reader just… hides everything. There’s ice in her chest as she tidies up the bathroom, takes out the trash, washes up to start on dinner just. Mind blank, but her usual smile on her face (well honed practice from years of mistreatment due to having an ‘unacceptable’ quirk) as she tells him to go clean up. She’ll make a fast dinner so he can sleep and then wake him later for patrol. He’s too tired to notice anything off, thanks her with a loving smile, the soft ones only she gets, as he goes and showers, changes for a meal and a nap with his favourite girl.

And that’s how it goes. Day in, day out, feeling sick is just a bug, just extreme reaction to allergies, just bad food, etc. She kind of disassociates a lot, mind unable to process as somewhere in there she’s coming up with a plan. Obviously he won’t want to be with her, right? She should cherish these days before she starts to show. So she does.

For about two days, no matter what he says about kids he’s run into or his class — though a small voice tries to remind her that Shouta is excellent with kids, even the ones that act out and he doesn’t hate them no matter what he acts like, she knows this, but it’s drowned out by the words she’s heard him say while tired and grumpy — she cherishes the fuck out of spending more time with him. A little needy, maybe a lot, but she loves him with everything she has to give. Everything but what she keeps held back for their her child.

And then one morning Reader wakes up, showers and notices a slight bump that she knows won’t be going down. There’s ice in her chest again, but she can’t have the same reaction as last time. It won’t be good for the baby, especially if she disassociates. So she plans out her week carefully; makes a grocery list so she can make all of his favourites, makes a list of what she needs to stock up on for herself, what she can pack quickly and sensibly, looks up apartment listings so Shouta won’t feel caged or that he has to leave because it’s his apartment after all, budgets her upcoming checks and what she has in her accounts.

But she gets careless, tires out far too early, doesn’t even make it to lunch, and leaves an apartment listing ad and pregnancy clinic check-up assessment on the table as she unintentionally drifts off on the couch. (Her iron levels are a little on the low side.) On the school’s half-day, where Shouta only needed to go in for meetings and would be back by lunch. Her stealthy as fuck boyfriend, who she never hears come in, but certainly sees her wearing one of his shirts and having fallen asleep in the middle of…..something. It doesn’t look like one of the analysis notebooks she uses for her freelance job as an analyst. Huh.

He’s curious, nosy maybe, but that’s a hero trait. You would’ve made good hero, if everyone hadn’t made it nigh impossible for you before you broke away from your past and headfirst into analysis. You aren’t bitter, but he can be so enough for both of you. You deserve the best, in his eyes, but he’s selfish so he’s going to keep you for himself. Now if he just steps closer to get a look at what’s on the table…..

Hey so I made myself go full on fucking ugly crying and decided to share for anyone’s thoughts or added writing contributions. :D

All I can think of to add is that:

Shouta is not letting Reader get away from him, from this misunderstanding no matter how he has to do it. (He’ll probably start by shredding that apartment add with his bare hands, though.)

Shouta feels like the biggest fucking idiot for missing all the signs and not taking better care of you like you deserved, kid or no kid behind it all. (TBH you’ve been carrying their family — not that either of you have said it but that’s what you have — since you moved in. If it was left up to him the entire building would’ve somehow collapsed.)

He’s gonna add some more bitterness to the “my girlfriend could’ve been a heroine but people are assholes” fund because she managed to hide a whole ass pregnancy from him completely for who knows how long while other Pros can’t even hide their favourite colours. (Most can’t even hide their lack of genuine civilian safety oriented tactical knowledge, which is just sad, in his opinion. Then again, he is very judgmental of other heroes abilities.)

He may or may not quickly realize why Reader hid the news. And may or may not feel even worse. Because having a kid with you? That’s a dream he didn’t want to let himself have, not yet. Not until after he proposed and settled into his teaching job more, at least. (Better find a ring soon. Even if it’s a Studio Ghibli’s Catbus themed one — it’ll do.)

💜

Oh God. Oh God, wait. Option 2 though, right? My brain wants more angst, go figure.

Ahahah this gets a little sad, sorry. But my contribution is under the cut ❤️‍🩹

Warnings: panic attack, mental breakdown, pregnancy, medical

What if his initial reaction is to be angry? Like he’s reading it just as you’re waking up and you gasp, trying to explain, but he’s already raising his voice, demanding to know how you could have kept something like this from him for so long?

He’s not even upset with you. He’s really just upset that he didn’t even notice. Like you said, he feels like a fucking idiot. He wanted to be there for you through all of this. He wanted all the cute cheesy pregnancy bliss that other couple go through. The first appointment. First sonogram. Telling your friends and family together.

And you’re looking for another apartment? For all of you? No, the place is already plenty big enough. Were you going to leave? He’s beating himself bloody inside, cursing himself for not being more attentive to you. You could have slipped right through his fingers. You and that little miracle inside of you that he already feels so attached to.

And he’s just so disappointed with himself that he misplaces those intense emotions and lashes out at you. He’s never once raised his voice to you, but he can’t control himself in his state and he does. He starts barking about why you never told him, demanding to know why you didn’t come to him, pressing you about how long and why and where you were going to go and he just gets so worked up that he doesn’t even know what he’s saying, he’s just screaming and there’s hot tears and he can’t breathe anymore. He’s having a panic attack for the first time in who knows how many years and he just keeps kicking himself, because now after all that, you’re looking at him with concern and tending to his needs once again, instead of him having the strength to be there for you in what is obviously your time of need. He feels selfish and stupid and starts wondering if maybe why you didn’t say anything is because you were really going to leave, because you know that he can’t even properly take care of you, let alone a child.

#oof I’m so sorry I love angst tho #like ahhh the potential for this story #just mootin’ it up 💕#grae💕#graemoon #Aizawa angst #Aizawa x reader #tw pregnancy #tw medical #Aizawa #tw panic attack #tw mental breakdown

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artantiquarian · 2 months ago

Note

hmm yes ramble is go.

On placement: Concurrent with canon. It just happens where the camera doesn't point, so to speak.

On how she started this life: A strange Human(?(it isn't. technically. Agave's weird.)) encounter! It... maybe this can tie into some wider stuff I'm working on? I dunno.

Conceptually, this idea and thought complex is slightly alien? Maybe? It's definitely a massive swing for Brykr.

Brykr's background is just basically your friendly neighborhood young woman, with a little extra pointy and fur. She likes riddles and puzzles, she sometimes tries to bake things (likes sweets, kind of hit or miss on making them(not to like, an extreme comedic extent)), and she's pretty cheery.

She's running raw and disassociating heavily when she encounters the kickstarter figure (not a mentor, not really? idk. there's not extended teaching, only some ideals that she can hang onto, maybe?)

I think part of the original idea was that she just needed something to do. I... Funny thing here, I haven't read Don Quixote. I SHOULD, but. [neurons diverge aggressively]

Part of her starting motivation in my head was having an objective, any objective, basically. With that at hand she could at least feel like progress was being made.

On Gnoll Knights: A [Knight-Errant] is unoathed, unbound, and... very extinct. Being a [Knight] means you have access to full support, the military logistics network. You have medical treatment if a high level [Sniper] puts a bodkin through your plate armor, you have replacement kit if you lose any to Skill Bullshit, enemy action, or just wear and tear. A [Knight-Errant]... doesn't. They can sign with a company or a kingdom...

But that'd bind her elsewhere. She needs that freedom to actually search and travel.

I might be able to square this by saying that Knight-Errants aren't really Knights by the classical definition? A [Knight] is sworn to a cause and has all these bits about it? (Knights don't even historically exist IRL?! ARGH! (I learned this while indulging my history interests)) (man at arms isn't a good definition either since while it was a title the backer for mounted heavy cavalry-)

Knights overall might receive a small tweak in my schema? A little break from canon. Maybe. Idk.

Some other class probably would've been easier to square.

Outside Help: Other Gnolls noticing that this entire tribe got the salted earth treatment (figurative) is a good and very sharp question. Hadn't thought about that. Maybe some artifact or skill. It'd make sense how this group would be able to do this and get away with it (probably more than once?). I think that could play into the isolation of Brykr's journey, maybe.

Figure out if I want to do this?

Figure out what extent it is. Do people remember, but it doesn't want to stick in the front of their thoughts? Do people suffer from reduced recall and memory decay?

Might be some interesting interactions in the endgame. Might also explain Lost Civilizations everywhere; the results of this kind of skill being discovered, cultivated, and used on mass scales to scrub memories, if not physical evidence, of places from existence.

If I do do this... God, that'd feel so horrifically isolating. Physical relics only, every gnoll gives you a weird look?

On Party Members: Yup! Kinda. She picks up a Drake [Mercenary] assigned to her by someone she helps, just in time to get pulled out of trouble. Maybe a Gnoll [Shaman] who was a fellow survivor? Or someone who had a skill that let them remember the destroyed tribe...

Subplot thoughts include mutual counselling (they make eachother worse AND better!)

I think extra party members are going to be limited though. I kind of want to keep it to Brykr and maybe one other, or two (tops).

On Skills: include just... passive spam, more or less. A little extra steadiness here, an iron jaw there, faster hands, faster feet, heal quicker, harder armor-

Brykr I think is going to overall lack a lot of flashies. Just no-nonsense stuff that lets her tough it out and drag someone into it.

Probably Big Flashies will be capstones of like, [Gateiron Guard] (Sekiro Parry, complete with shiny visual and twANG~!(allows for parrying almost anything even if it'd normally smash through)) (I'm a sucker for that shit sue me. :P) or [Questor-Mantle] (Reduces damage taken before armor and physique considered above a certain cap) (this allows her to survive certain special attacks(this will become necessary))

There was at least one thought of her screaming in frustration at the voices at night about what the fuck she was supposed to do after hitting her second dead end.

Other Things: In the same vein as LANCER declaring a 'mud and lasers' vibe, I think I might adopt 'grit and spellcasters'? or something. Idk. Brykr's quest will end with the payoff... but I think emotionally it's not going to fix her. Act 3... Mmm. Maybe finding acceptance of no-purpose? Declination of further improvements, and just... going back?

My uh, very sensible, normal special interest of cold arms and armament will be indulged just a little.

brykr may be inexperienced but she's going to consistently be wearing good armor and that's going to even out the balance

polearms are cheating. combine that with being a gnoll which is, what, average six foot and physically Human+, and...

try and moderate the number of fights I write in? I want to keep those special...

i think thats it.

eppy...

im die thank you forever (no really thank you for reading this if you got this far im sorry this happened but im too tired to turn back now)

...you actually wanna-

aight.

The backing track: Canon timeline, more or less. But somewhere decidedly not the main storyline. Working title of Fight That Windmill (somewhere in the beginning I had Don Quixote thoughts).

A Gnoll [Knight-Errant], freshly remade in the trauma of losing functionally her entire tribe in a mysterious and horrific attack during the night.

As might be expected her objective is revenge, but the idea is to play around with it a little. She has no combat experience but what her Skills are whispering in her ear, and little clue as to who did the job.

With nothing else, her focus goes onto becoming more capable as a fighter. Thus, she goes on some adventures, unearths at least a few fallen civilization monsters, and escapes several battles by the hairs of her tailtip.

That's... the basics of it I guess.

Oooooo alrighty, i have some questions:

When is this placed? Is it in the past or current Innworld timeline?

Because Brunkr was by my knowledge the first Gnoll Knight unless, like most Gnoll history, the knowledge was destroyed by the constant war with drakes and their nomadic lifestyle. How did she become a [Knight-Errent]? Knights have to be sworn to something I think to become Knights. Whether that be a person, a concept, or a quest.

Ooooo does she gain a crew that follows her on her adventure? Are they Gnolls or a mixed species group? Because Gnolls are known to be pretty cool with other races on average compared to other cultures. So it could go either way. And Gnolls as a tribal species would definitely want to investigate an entire tribe disappearing over night.

Some skills i think would be cool:

[Knight's Oath]: strengthens her or gives her cool perks in moments where she's fulfilling her oath to avenge her tribe

Oooo actually, what is her oath?

[Home of the Vagabond]: high level skill, idk what it does but it's a cool concept. Maybe a dimensional space, or it gives perks anywhere she rests and makes into a temporary home, or it's a skill that works against her unless she keeps moving giving you an in-story reason why things keep happening to her and she can't rest until her quest is completed. For example, the more she wanders and the closer she gets to her goal the more memories or power she will gain from her lost tribe but the moment she settles she starts to lose her connection with them. Or something.

[Gift of the (insert tribe name)]: inheritance skill from her tribe, a skill that can only be used when dying to impart something to the last person left. A memory, a gift, a skill, etc.

Also can she do magic? Or is she affected by growing up near the magic sucking crystals?

Idk, if you ever want to talk more about it, I'd love to listen

#brainstorming #not art

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jabbagabba · 4 years ago

Text

La La Land

WARNING ⚠️

Do not read if you haven’t watched WandaVison, while this isn’t fully cannon story based, it still has potential spoilers and just general references. Read at own risk!

Heavy angst, the loss of a parent, Tony Stark died ya’ll, alcoholism mentioned briefly, also disassociation is talked about and happens to reader so be warned, if you are struggling with mental illness and feel like this may trigger you then please do not read. Grief is a hard thing and this is going to be very heavy, I’ll try to make sure to include all warnings and triggers but please let me know if I forgot anything.

———

Prologue

The pain of losing a parent is one you were familiar with.

That ache of realising you’d never meet your mother was something that had slowly chipped away at you from the moment the first breath of life entered your lungs. Her name was Loren; a twenty something journalist Tony had met at one of his many parties. You had heard the same four or so stories growing up, Tony’s words slightly slurred as he giggled along to the same old jokes she told the night they met.

“I wasn’t looking to settle down, ya know?” He’d say, taking a final swig as the mood shifted. “But, my God. She made me wanna propose that night.”

You usually cut him off at that point, patting him on the back while trying to pry his hands off the coffee mug filled with scotch. It was hard to fully remember those days; each year making the memory foggy as he stayed sober. You didn’t miss the drinking but rather the stories they spilled from inside him.

Loren was his first love, Pepper was his second.

Loren was you mother, but Pepper was the closest thing to one you could get. She made sure to keep you fed during his long hours of work, tucked you in at night and told JARVIS to keep the star lights above you well lit. Pepper was a great mother, but she wasn’t yours.

Sometimes when you couldn’t fall asleep at night you’d imagine what Loren use to look like. Did she have your eyes? Did she like to read Nancy Drew before bedtime like you did? Did she have dreams of becoming some big star that knew everyone there was to know? Did she have stories tucked away of your father that only coffee mug scotch could reveal?

All these questions would swirl in your head before you were to too tired to keep asking them, the start of a new day washing them away from you completely. Death always had a way of avoiding sleepless questions. You only knew one thing for sure about your mother though.

You loved her, and my god, missed her.

But nothing could have prepared you for today.

The way your heart pulled and squeezed inside of your now hollow chest as your eyes stared below at a lake that had the last piece of Tony Stark floating on it. Nothing prepared you for the feeling of poisonous sadness that flowed through your veins as you held tightly onto a little girl’s hand that was now part of your family, already old enough to feel the full force of your father’s loss. It had been three days and you already felt strength drain from you.

It was all too much. Too unbearable. You didn’t move from standing on the dock, eyes glued to the slow moving water. It wasn’t until a tiny tug on your hand that you even realised you were still breathing.

“C’mon, Happy wants to see you.” Morgan’s small voice fills the silence.

‘That’s right,’ Your think as your eyes come back to focus. ‘I’m real. I’m not just staring at water, I’m at my father’s funeral. I wasn’t snapped out of existence again, I’m alive.’

You heard her say your name and are forced to float back to your body.

‘I can move... I should move.’ You pull from her grasp and turned toward her with a shaky smile.

“You go ahead.” You’re surprised when no tears drip down your cheeks. “I’ll be up in a minute.” Your eyes follow her up the stairs, vision glossy as Happy sits next to her on the porch swing. This cabin was not part of your story, the way Morgan floated around it with familiarity was something you simply would never relate to.

Pepper was Tony’s anchor, Morgan was hers and now yours was floating down a river.

———

Wanda watched in silence as the last of the guests fanned out from the lawn. She felt the familiar tug of pain in her chest as she took small steps toward the two girls on the dock. That look on your face was one she saw in the mirror more times then she would like to admit. As she watched the youngest Stark fall onto the porch swing with a small giggle, her mind snapped back into focus.

This was her only chance.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Wanda’s voice was steady, a stark contrast from the tears that fell onto her cheeks. You bite back a bitter scoff and choose to simply nod. It wasn’t her fault, it wasn’t anyone’s and yet that was the hardest part. Your father chose to die, chose it. How was that ever going to not hurt? “I know what it’s like to lose someone and even though your father and I had... a strange past.” She put a gentle hand on your forearm. “I know in my heart he loved you.”

Your eyes for what felt like the hundredth time that day filled with tears as you finally looked into hers. Wanda gave a smile as she wrapped her arms around your shaking body and squeezed.

You finally broke.

Wanda was someone you had only spoken to in passing; watching as she tried to crash your father in cars once during the airport fight. You never blamed her for it though, knowing that it was never an intention to truely hurt him. She was barley less then a stranger and yet here she was, letting you sob in her arms as she whispered comforting words in a language you didn’t understand. In that briefest of moments, she was the closest thing to a anchor you had.

For a moment the wave of grief had settled in your body. For a moment, you felt like you could live without him.

“Thank you.” Your voice was muffled by her cardigan, tears finally drying on puffy cheeks as you sniffled. “Thank you.” She moved back and let her hands rest on your shoulders.

“That feeling.” She said with a comforting smile. “That feeling of relief is something that needs to be treasured in times like these.” You tried not to let your confusion show as she moved her hands up to your cheeks. “I can help you.”

“How?” Your eyes widened as you felt a low pulsing float from your neck up to above your ears as she smiled once more.

“But first-“ You were forced to watch in silent horror as her eyes glowed a a deep red. “You need to help me.”

#wandavision #wanda maximoff imagine #stark!reader #angst #fluff #marvel imagine #tony stark x daughter!reader #wandavision imagine #wandavison x reader #marvel x reader #teen!reader

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