#i did it to portray a sort of panic? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thethingswedotomorrow · 1 year ago

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Crowley has been with humanity since the beginning. The original serpent of eden, he is the first "monster" in humanity's bedtime stories. He is the figurative and literal demon on human's shoulders, always there to guide them one way or another. He's weaved through history itself, and prides himself on an impeccable track record of demonic activity throughout the last 6000 years.

But, naturally, after 6000 years, Crowley finds that he's spent more time pining after a certain Angel than doing any sort of work. Like, an extreme amount of pining.

And it isn't until after the notpocalypse that Crowley realizes that, entirely accidentally and very embarrassingly, he may have accidentally made his pining very, very public.

One of Crowley's favorite ways to waste a day is to take Aziraphale to different museums around the world and watch as the angel wanders around and points out all of the inaccuracies

"Good Lord Crowley, have you seen this painting? Portraying you as a dragon is a tad dramatic, I think. All we were doing were having a picnic. And I have never had my hair looking like that, thank you."

"I don't know Angel, they've got your wings spot on. Wa-Hang on, have they added horns to my head?"

"Oh, I see, suddenly it's only inaccurate when they've got you wrong."

The museums always seem to be miraculously empty, and whenever Crowley mentions this, Aziraphale suddenly finds a new, very interesting piece of art to admire

Crowley admires the lengths Aziraphale goes to to hide the small miracles he's done for Crowley's sake

As if Crowley wouldn't move literal mountains for the angel

*He did, actually, do that once.

In the 12th century, they were having a lovely evening together with multiple caskets of wine, up until Aziraphale complained about the amount of light in his eyes

"Honestly Crowley, all this sun and no shade, it must truly be awful for the humans around here with no shelter. It's a tad much, even for me."

Crowley, even then, immediately recognized this off-hand comment as an underhanded complaint, and knew that would not stand

When the small earthquake passed, Crowley claimed that the nearby church was on a fault line and he was simply doing his demonic duty by damaging holy goods in the area

If Aziraphale realized that the mountain range in the distance suddenly provided much more sun coverage, he never mentioned it.

Currently, however, Crowley follows Aziraphale around, wandering behind him and never truly looking at the things in the museum

In every single place they've ever gone together, there was only ever one thing that deserved Crowley's attention

And it certainly was not an inaccurate model of a 18th century tea set

But when Aziraphale wanders into a hall titled 'Love of the Past', he starts to panic. Just a very tiny amount, basically none at all. A small enough amount of panic that he could deny it, even to himself.

He thinks about the past, towards the beginning, back when Humanity was still getting it's footing and figuring out how to have governments and societies and (the most important part) figuring out the whole alcohol situation

Throughout the years, especially towards the beginning, Crowley began to resent any time not spent with Aziraphale

Everything seemed small and dull when compared to the way the Angel smiled when he saw new type of human dessert, or the way he laughed when Crowley managed to work out a clever comment

And once Crowley experienced those things, he never wanted anything else

He had seen the poetry the humans had written, how much emotion they could pour into a simple piece of parchment or a clay tablet

He never cared for written word, but he was shocked at just how much feeling the humans could manage to pour into words

So after Aziraphale left Rome (after the oysters and the wine and the smiles, for somebody's sake the smiles), he went due east for a new miracle on another continent

Crowley stayed and got well and truly drunk. As he did best.

He had spent a few weeks around the other drunks around the area, most poverty stricken and saddened with some sort of grief of one type or another

It wasn't until a group of poets wandered into his dark corner of the pub that he started to considered writing

Obviously nothing anyone would ever read, he'd ensure that. Every scroll or parchment that he'd touch with a quill would be burnt with hellfire before it left his sight

But, as many of his worst ideas started, he had nothing better to do and too much time to think

So he wrote. He wrote letters, first addressed to nobody, about random thoughts that would pop into his very intoxicated brain. Whether humans would ever find traces of the unicorns they lost on the ark, whether he would ever find a way to count just how many scales he had, whether he would ever reach a point where he didn't have to cover his eyes every day

Slowly, the letters started becoming addressed to 'A'. Whether he was conscious of this or not, he'd never admit.

But he wrote. He wrote to A about Hell, the jobs they required of him, the things they'd have him do. He wrote of the way humans had beaten him to the punch 90% of the time. How they would do things worse than Satan himself could imagine, and they'd never blink an eye while doing it.

He wrote of the way the sun darkened each day that passed without his Angel, the way his wine never seemed to have enough flavor when he was alone.

He wrote of the ways he imagined he could orchestrate an elaborate reunion, a convoluted mess of too much demonic activity in a small area that just happened to have a wonderful new tea, or so he's heard, and wouldn't it be a shame to leave the town without tempting the angel to try it?

He wrote to A about how he was sure he had no heart, no emotions. He was a Demon, for somebody's sake, he certainly had no need for stupid things like that, and so the ache in his corporation's chest when he sees the Angel had to be some sort of malfunction.

Anatural function, surely, that could be fixed with the right amount of aloofness and strong liquor

He wrote of the way the sun always seemed to hit the Angel's hair just right, and Crowley had no faith, he had no God.

But in those moments, with a halo around the angel and that smile aimed towards him, he might consider praying now to a different source altogether, a closer source. One full of life and light and actual proper goodness, not that fake advertised bullshit they plaster on church walls in pretty paintings and sad songs

Crowley wrote for a long while, and found that the writing helped the pain.

Even if only because it brought on memories of Aziraphale, and that was enough to hold him until they met again. It had to be, he had no choice in the matter.

And he wrote so often throughout the ages, and often while he was drunk. And he was so sure, so positive that he had burned every trace of his heart and emotion out of existence.

He had to be. The danger those words could put Aziraphale in was far too great. He couldn't be bothered to care of the danger to himself, but the fact that the very hint of any emotion could come close to hurting his Angel was enough to ensure that they would never come across another being's eyes.

He destroyed every letter and word that described his desire, his pain, his greed. He ripped the words he created out of reality as easily as he had written them. Every time, he burnt the parchment, and every time, it burnt a part of him with it.

And then the Apocalypse had happened. Or, well, didn't happen, he supposed. Really, he wasn't entirely sure if there was a difference.

Because everything had changed, even if the rest of the world hadn't noticed. And he was suddenly allowed to see Aziraphale with no excuse, no half-hearted reasoning behind it. He was allowed to want, and to crave, and he relished it.

And he was allowed to take the angel to museums to watch him fuss over small mistakes humanity had collected throughout the ages

Until he realized that they had, in fact, also collected HIS mistakes.

In a hall. A whole bloody hall. A hall, dedicated to and full of stupid parchment and sappy letters and wine stains over words written so long ago

And honestly who gave them the right? Leave it to the humans to collect other people's belongings and put it on display as their own

And he knew, from the moment Aziraphale read the first page on display, he just knew. This was it. All of it was ruined.

All because Crowley had gotten so drunk and passed out in his room above the pub, and when they'd thrown him out in a drunken stupor, they'd collected his belongings to sell afterwards. And he'd never even realized, so concerned about the next meeting, the arrangement, concerned about anything and everything except the one thing he forgot about and could end them both.

Any moment now, Aziraphale would look up at him, with disgust and confusion and all those emotions that he'd really rather not see on his face, preferably ever, but especially not towards him.

But Aziraphale never looks up. He reads the first page 5, 6, 7 times, being sure to capture every single word. Every wrinkle in the paper, every crease.

Then he moves to the next, and then the next. He repeats this process. Every page, he scours each and every page. Searching and scanning, analyzing every word.

Crowley is frozen at the entrance of the hall, too terrifed to say a word, but too hopeful to leave. He stands there, suddenly feeling the same feeling in his chest that he felt so many years ago, in the corner of the pub, sitting in the dark, wishing for the light that he knew would never come.

He's so panicked, that he doesn't notice Aziraphale finishing the last page, and wiping the tears from his eyes. He startles when he accidentally meets his eyes, and prepares a number of excuses and deflections, all to preserve this shred of peace and safety they had carved out for themselves.

"Angel, I- you really- ngk- humans are so rid- are you hungry? I could eat, I've heard they've got a killer bar around here, and we cou-I can get us there in 10 minutes, ngk actu- scratch that, we could be there in 5, I bet. Museums aren-angel?"

Crowley finds himself stopping the random stream of words coming out of his mouth, when he notices tears in Aziraphale's eyes

"Angel, I-"

That's all Crowley can get out before Aziraphale is walking towards him with a purpose

And suddenly Aziraphale is very close to him

Very very close

And suddenly Aziraphale's lips are on his, and Aziraphale is holding onto Crowley's jacket, and Crowley's hands are just waving in the air back and forth while he processes the last .5 seconds.

By the time he realizes what is actually happening, Aziraphale pulls away just enough to rest his forehead against Crowley's, and laughs.

He laughs. Laughs. Aziraphale is laughing and it's a wonderful, beautiful noise and Crowley doesn't quite understand why, but then he's laughing too and then they are both standing there, arms around each other, laughing and Crowley realizes now that all the words he's written, all the praises he sang of his Aziraphale, the way he wished and prayed for his heart and laugh and love

Not one bit of it is at all comparable to the real thing.

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juniperskye · 5 months ago

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Silence is Louder than Words.

Sneak peek: Joel and Ellie return to Jackson, Tommy gets them set up in a home on the outskirts of the community (per Joel’s request). Joel notices they have a neighbor and takes an interest in her. Tommy lets him know that they don’t know much about you other than you had been through some serious shit, but that you haven’t spoken a word since you’d arrived in Jackson. Tommy asks Joel to keep an eye on you…and in doing so, Joel may just be able to break through your defenses.

Joel Miller x (Fem) Reader

Fluff/Angst

Word count: 3512

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited, I did my best (ngl I had so much more planned for this but it didn't seem like it would work in this part of the story...so maybe more to come. IDK) - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!! My blog is 18+, minors DNI, minimal use of y/n (there were parts it just couldn’t be avoided), No description of reader other than she/her pronouns and her sister was similar to Ellie (could be perceived as personality), implied age gap (kinda?), explicit language, reader has selective mutism due to trauma, Canon typical violence, PTSD, panic attacks, nightmares, insomnia, anxiety, mention of r*pe (past trauma, not detailed), mention of pregnancy (past, not detailed), mention of child murder (past, some detail), mention of murder. IF THESE ARE TRIGGERS FOR YOU, DO NOT READ!!!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

“Joel, it’s really good to have you guys back here…safe.” Tommy said, pulling away from Joel.

“We’re glad to be back.” Joel grunted.

“Well, I have you guys situated in a house on the outermost part of the community. I figured you’d prefer it that way.” Tommy explained.

“Thanks Tommy.” Joel nodded.

Tommy led Ellie and Joel over to a house that was quite literally on the outskirts of the Jackson compound. Joel took note of the lack of neighbors as they walked further and further and it put his mind at ease, knowing he’d have some privacy. As they neared the house, it was Ellie who noticed the small white house just off to the left of their own.

“Who lives there?” Ellie questioned.

“Oh, that’s Y/N’s house. She’s real quiet, y’all won’t have to worry about her stirring up any trouble.” Tommy informed.

“I thought you said no neighbors?” Joel gruffed.

“Joel, she’s quiet. You don’t have to worry about that. Honestly, I was kind of hoping you’d keep an eye on her, just make sure she’s okay.” Tommy pleaded.

“Tommy, I’m not gonna play babysitter for a grown ass woman.”

“That’s not what I’m askin’ and you know it. She just – she’s been through it. She keeps to herself mostly and Maria and I worry about her.” Tommy explained.

“Fine. I’ll keep an eye on her. But I’m not gonna go and chit chat with her.” Joel rolled his eyes.

“I wouldn’t expect that.” Tommy began. “From either of you.” He mumbled. “Why don’t y’all head in and get settled, you can meet Maria and me for dinner. Sound good?”

“We will be there!” Ellie replied, pulling Joel inside by the sleeve before he could decline.

Joel couldn’t help but wonder why Tommy was so worried about you. Tommy had boasted about how the people of Jackson were all strong and each held their own. They wouldn’t be here otherwise. So, what was your deal? He’d mentioned that you had gone through some tough shit, but what was it? He had to say, he was intrigued.

His interest only grew once he saw you for the first time. It was about a week after his and Ellie’s arrival back in Jackson. You had been walking around the mess hall with a basket full of homemade goods, passing them around to people. He’d seen you pass out a few bottles of what he assumed to be some sort of toiletries as well as some clothing items to various people.

Joel waited until Ellie had run off to sit with some of her new friends to ask about you.

“So, what’s her deal?” Joel inquired.

“Who? Y/N…I thought you weren’t playing babysitter?” Tommy teased.

“I’m not. I just want to know why you think she needs looking after.” Joel replied.

“Honestly Joel, we don’t know much about her. She hasn’t said a single word in the four years she’s lived here.” Maria informed.

“Bullshit. She’s said somethin’ at some point.” Joel scoffed.

“No, Joel she really hasn’t. She knows some sign, but she mostly writes stuff down if she really needs to communicate.” Tommy said.

“Damn. Well, what’s her role around here since she doesn’t talk?” Joel couldn’t help but be confused.

“She makes all sorts of stuff for the people of our community. She’s figured out how to make shampoo, soap, lotion, sunblock, toothpaste…I mean the list goes on. She also repairs clothing when necessary, she’s the best seamstress in town.” Maria smiled at how wonderful you’d been since your arrival, jumping right in to contribute.

Joel was taken aback at how much you clearly brought to the community. Despite your silence, you’d made yourself known. Joel could see how you were well liked based on the greetings you’d received from those you were delivering to. He found it very odd that you’d keep to yourself despite Jackson’s fondness for you.

Joel had always been a loner, but it had been due to his stubbornness, sarcasm, potty mouth and overall negative attitude. His mother had always said “Joel, ever the pessimist” when he’d say something even remotely negative in his youth.

Learning all this about you had only transformed Joel’s intrigue into a need to know you. He couldn’t help how he was drawn to you, he wondered if it was because, perhaps, you were kindred spirits.

Joel woke with a gasp, his body covered in a cold sweat. Another nightmare, it had been the same recurring dream night after night since he’d found Ellie. Every time he made it through the hospital, and he’d gotten to the operating room, only this time he barges in to see the doctor holding her brain in his hands.

He woke up the same way too. Startled awake, laying in a pool of his own sweat. Joel tried to get back to sleep, but it was no use. He thought about it and decided to take a walk to clear his mind, now that he and Ellie were in the safe confines of Jackson, he was able to do so.

Joel didn’t want to stray too far in the case that Ellie needed him, so he was more so pacing from the front of their house, over to the front of yours. It was a warm and humid evening; Jackson had been nearing Autumn and Joel was looking forward to the break in the weather.

A muffled shout pulled Joel’s attention from smacking the mosquito that had surely bitten him by now. He glanced back toward his house to see if Ellie’s light had been turned on – nothing. He shook his head, ready to brush away the thought when he heard a louder scream, only it was coming from your home.

Joel rushed to the door listening just to be sure and when he heard you scream again he was quick to open the door. He was surprised to find it unlocked, although the people of Jackson seemed at ease in their community.

He swiftly surveyed the room, desperate to find you and ensure your safety. Joel found you thrashing around on your couch, screaming, begging for help. He made his way over to where you were laying and gently placed his hand on your shoulder. He shook you a few times to rouse you, but when you woke, you hadn’t reacted how Joel would have expected.

“What? What are you doing here? GET OUT!” You shouted, pushing Joel away from you.

Joel shot up, mostly in shock at hearing you speak for the first time, but also to follow your request. He made his leave, not wanting to upset you any further.

You couldn’t believe it. Joel had come into your home and woken you up. What was he thinking? Why had he been there? Had your nightmare haunted you so badly that your screams could be heard from his home? You were horrified and humiliated. You had done so well, hiding your demons, shoving them down so far that no one could see, and in a single night they’d all come out and bore themselves to none other than Joel miller.

The next few days were horrible. You had done everything in your power to avoid Joel, who seemed to be seeking you out. On top of that, your insomnia had made a wonderful return. Your mind refusing respite in fear of Joel finding you in another traumatic night terror.

You weren’t sure what had even caused your nightmare that night. You hadn’t had one in nearly a year, but thinking about it, there were a few potential triggers that came to mind. The first possibility was Maria being far enough along in her pregnancy to be showing, the second being Ellie’s striking similarities to your sister, and the last being Tommy’s mention of them finding and taking care of some raiders on his patrol that day.

Hell, it was probably a combination of all those things that had you reliving some of the worst moments of your life. You hoped that the feelings would soon pass so you could get some sleep.

“Tommy, I need you to be straight with me. What happened to Y/N before she got here? Like what do you know about her?” Joel pushed.

“Joel, I already told you we don’t know much.” Tommy huffed.

“But you know something!”

“Okay listen, she arrived here alone. She had a small pack with her and that was it. Maria and I sat with her and asked her dozens of questions, and we didn’t get a single word out of her. I stepped out to deal with something and when I got back, she had been writing her responses to Maria. I know that she had previously been with a group but none of them survived. And based on what I saw, I’d say whatever happened wasn’t pretty.” Tommy explained.

Joel just nodded, content with learning more about you. But still so curious to know what was haunting you. He couldn’t shake the feeling of wanting to protect you. Of wanting to find what was causing you harm and making it so it could never hurt you again. He’s trying desperately to figure out this need to hold you and make everything okay, why he was so drawn to you.

“Look Joel, Maria told you how much she does for the community, and you’ve seen for yourself that she sticks to herself, she’s quiet, and she doesn’t cause trouble. So, we don’t push her to know more. The last thing I will say is that whatever she went through…she is a damn good shot. Do with that information what you will.” Tommy patted Joel on the shoulder and walked off.

Joel sat with the information for a bit. Had you been forced to kill your way to Jackson, is that what was haunting you? That is something that is justified, those things, they aren’t people anymore and raiders well if you didn’t kill them, then they surely would kill you so again justified. It had to have been something far worse if you refused to speak.

Joel decided he’d observe you, and he’d be there when you had another nightmare. Since losing Sarah, Joel hadn’t really wanted to be around anyone. Tess was stubborn, more so than Joel, so she was able to force herself in – and even then he didn’t open up much. And well, Ellie, she was his second chance at being a dad. But you, you had come in and taken up residency in Joel’s mind and it was because of that feeling, one he hadn’t experienced in a long time, that he knew he needed to break down your walls.

And that is how Joel found himself trying to comfort you through another nightmare. Joel had been out walking late at night again, the nights had started to finally cool off and he’d found it helped clear his head to take walks like this one.

It was nearing two in the morning when he heard it, your cries for help. He made his way up your porch steps and carefully tried the handle, saying a silent cheer when the handle turned, and the door gave way.

This had been different than the last time, as he approached you, he noticed the tear tracks lining your cheeks and he could hear your quiet whimpers. He knew he had to do this right if he was going to get you to let him in.

“Sweetheart? Wake up, you’re safe. I’m here and you are okay.” He gently shook you.

You woke up, startled once again to find Joel Miller is the one waking you. This man had a lot of nerve letting himself into your house, yet again, and while you’d love to give him an earful right now, the pain of what your nightmare had brought forth in your mind was crippling.

So, you threw yourself into Joel’s arms. He wrapped himself around you and repositioned himself, so he was sat on the couch, and you were in his lap. Your face was buried in his neck and his arms were tight around your waist. He ran his fingers gently through your hair and whispered reassurances in your ear.

He held you until you fell asleep and when you woke up at sunrise, he released you and saw himself out. He knew he had to gain your trust, and it would take time. This is how it would need to be done, he would have to keep quiet and leave when the morning came.

A few hours later, after he and Ellie had breakfast, she was heading out to school. Joel was expecting her to leave like usual, so he was pretty confused when she returned to the kitchen carrying a small wicker basket.

“This was on the porch, I gotta head to class or I’ll be late!” She waved and headed out.

“Thanks kiddo. Have a good day.” Joel said goodbye.

He slowly pulled the items from the basket and a small smile graced his features. He brought them out one-by-one, a bottle of sunscreen, a bar of soap, some solid deodorant and a new flannel shirt. Beneath everything was a small note.

"Joel, I wanted to give you these as a sort of thank you and apology. Sorry for yelling at you that first night and thank you for last night. I figured you and Ellie could use some hygiene products that weren’t pre-apocalyptic. I also noticed how torn up your flannel had been and wanted you to have one that wasn’t threadbare. -Y/N”

Joel’s smile grew, this was just the beginning of his mission to break down your walls and it was off to a successful start.

You proceeded to have nightmares at least twice a week for the next three months. Joel was with you for every single one. Each time he’d gently wake you and he’d shush you, assuring that you were okay. The only thing that had changed was that more recently, Joel would carry you off of the couch and to your room, where he’d hold you close until you fell asleep.

In the last week the nightmares had come every night, and while Joel so badly wanted to ask why, he knew that he had to let you come to him. You had spoken to him in two-to-three-word responses in the last few weeks and Joel was so glad that you’d been able to open up to him even that much.

What he didn’t know was that the reason your nightmares had become more frequent was because Maria had finally given birth. Seeing her with her baby had been killing you, it had brought back so many awful memories and you knew that you’d need to tell Joel. You’d wanted to tell him days ago why you had been having such a hard time, but you were also terrified of it changing the dynamic between you.

Something was different tonight; you had slipped Joel a note during dinner at the mess hall, inviting him to come by your place a bit earlier. When he arrived you couldn’t help but be nervous, you felt so unsure of everything, but you were starting to trust Joel and some part of you knew that he would understand everything.

You had decided it was now or never. He had been with you every night of the week and he never pushed you to share. He told you about what he had been through and some of the things he had done to get here and had let you meet him with silence. You supposed now was your turn to share.

“Joel?”

“Yeah sweetheart?” He tried to hide his surprise at your initiation.

“I want to tell you what happened…is that okay?”

“Of course, sweet girl. Only share what you’re comfortable with okay? I ain’t goin’ anywhere.” Joel pressed a light kiss to your temple.

“So, it started with my sister and I, she was younger than me, Ellie reminds me a lot of her. She and I well, we got caught up with these raiders. Well, they, they uh…” You choked.

“It’s okay honey, take your time.” Joel rubbed a soothing hand down your spine.

“They forced themselves on us and left us both beaten and bloody. After that, my sister was in a bad way Joel. She uh, she was reckless and careless, and she got herself killed. And well, I ended up pregnant. I found my way to this small group of people that were headed here to Jackson. I guess they had heard it was a community and it was safe. We lost people along the way and sometimes we’d stop and stay somewhere for a month or so if we found it suitable. Anyway, by this time there’s only four of us left and I had my baby…” Tears started freely flowing down your face and Joel gently wiped them away.

“Sweetheart you really don’t have to…” Joel could tell where this was going.

“I need to say it. I’ve never said this out loud and I need to. My son was born, and he was beautiful. But he had colic and so he cried all the time. I did everything I could to keep him quiet as we went but it was putting us in danger, and I knew it. I offered to let them go on without me, I told them that he and I would come when he’d grown out of it. But a little while later I’d woken up to find him dead.” You sobbed. “They had suffocated him, claiming that we’d never get anywhere with him crying all the time and that they didn’t want to leave me behind. I killed them all Joel. I didn’t even hesitate. I pulled my gun out and I shot all three of them and then I left and never turned back.”

Everything came together, it had all started to make perfect sense. You’d held onto this guilt for the last four to five years. Survivors guilt over the loss of your sister, guilt of not being there for your child – something Joel knew all too well, and the guilt of killing people that you once cared about. He completely understood, he too would’ve stayed silent had he been through all that you had. What is there to say when you’ve lost everyone.

Joel held you tighter, allowing you to cry softly into his chest. He wanted to give you a few moments to calm yourself down before he said anything to you. He knew how delicate this situation was, and he needed to do things right.

“Sweetheart, I want to start by saying how sorry I am. I am so sorry you had to go through all of that. I also want you to know that you can’t feel guilty, and I know that it’s easier said than done but darlin’ you did everything you needed to in order to survive. You wouldn’t be here any other way baby girl.” Joel pressed his lips to your forehead.

“Thank you Joel. For being here and for – for listening to me. I can’t quite explain it, but I trust you and so, I don’t know, I just wanted to tell you. Having you around has made me feel better honestly and it’s sort of the only way I can sleep anymore.” You explained.

“I trust you too baby, and you’re not the only one. I sleep better with you here too, having you in my arms these last few months, it’s been amazing. Besides Tommy and Ellie, I think you’re about the only person I trust.” Joel smiled down at you.

From then on, things had changed between Joel and you. He was the only person you talked to, you shared everything with him. Joel and you spent every night together some nights at your place and more recently, some nights at his. Initially, you’d expressed your worries in doing so, you told him you didn’t want the entire town to know, and you were worried about running into Ellie in the hallway.

Joel had told you that there was no need for some public spectacle and that there was no need for worries that it would get out amongst the townies. He also reassured you that Ellie was a good kid, and she could keep a secret.

So, little by little you opened up to Joel, Ellie, and soon enough Maria and Tommy too. The five of you had become a family, you’d found that you fit into it almost too well, so much so that it was beginning to scare you.

Despite your fears, you allowed yourself to fall. Joel had proven to you time and time again that he was there for you and that he wasn’t going anywhere. He’d also gotten you living by the philosophy that tomorrow isn’t guaranteed and you needed to take this life while you had it.

So, you did.

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ant1quarian · 5 months ago

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okay but consider and think about how many of the boys from the AUs likely have severe PTSD or trauma-related disorders like DID or OSDD or some sort of disassocation?

like i headcanon killer's stages to be OSDD-related, even though I know it's not canon

I mean Fell has to have PTSD from being underground, but i barely ever see the representation of just how much this can effect people's lives in the majority of the fic i read and it's usually pretty... sucky, actually

These boys are Not Okay and I don't plan on portraying them as Okay, because you can't survive through all of that and come out perfectly fine

I mean I wouldn't be surprised if seeing a human almost immediately triggered a flight-or-fight response for Dust because the only human he ever saw was The Kid and That Kid fucked up his life and his existence

I think that sometimes the food Horror's eating tastes like ash, even if he never ate what the other's ate

I don't think he and his Papyrus can even look at meat without getting triggered

I don't think Killer likes to make deals at all. I think the image of any human reaching out to him or offering him their hand would make something in him panic. I think he'd flinch back when faced with a handshake, no matter who it was

I think Classic absolutely despises the feeling of deja vu- because he's felt it so many times before and only has a faint recollection of the resets before him (the more there are the clearer they become to him)

#undertale fandom #dust sans #killer sans #horror sans #cw cannibalism #tw cannibalism #murder time trio #fell sans #ut sans #classic sans #undertale sans #anti's rambles

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littlemessyjessi · 24 days ago

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"Guardian Snow Angel": A Holiday/Winter The Walking Dead Imagine: Daryl Dixon

…

A Holiday/Winter The Walking Dead Imagine

Daryl Dixon x Plus Size Reader, PS Reader, Reader Insert

Use of Y/N because if I tarry too long on particular details ya’ll will not see it this season. However, this is the base for a Daryl story that I haven’t decided whether or not to post. But I did give ya’ll quite a lot of juicy tidbits so you can kinda get a feel for it. Please lemme know what you think and if you’d like to see the story. Moving on.

Fem Identifying reader because, listen, I like women and I like writing women. But also, bi panic. Daryl is a dude (or at least it seems he’s mostly portrayed that way in the show. Idk what his personal pronouns are.They could change. We don’t know his inner thoughts and where his heart lies. ) Anyway, bi panic, bi needs. I want both. It’s fem identifying. If you don’t like, that’s cool. Feel free to scroll.

Warnings: Um, TWD? It’s a zombie apocalypse?

Also, if you’re under 18… get out. Happy Holidays. Have a great day. Hope the best for you. But get out. Love you but git.

….

The wind was biting.

This was no ‘Jack Frost nipping at your nose’ situation.

This was the kind of wind that didn’t just bite but rather sliced through you to the bone…. and Daryl was stuck out in the middle of it.

He was on his own again.

At times he preferred it and at times he hated it.

This was one of the times where he hated it.

The sound of hooves thundering against a snow covered frozen ground had him turning to squint through the blinding blizzard.

“Are you alright down there?”

Daryl had taken to hiding under a thick bit of brush to have at least some sort of shelter before he lost all of his limbs to frostbite.

However, he turned to the sound of oncoming hooves and hadn’t at all expected to hear a voice from directly behind him.

He whirled around at a rapid pace, drawing his arrow and aiming.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” said the moving mass of fur and antlers currently clouding most of his vision.

His brows furrowed further, “What the?”

A quick jerk of the head and the hood fell away to reveal the face of a woman, “Friend or foe?”

“Uh, what?” he asked, very, very aware of the tip of her spear pointed at his throat.

“Friend?” she repeated with a tilt of her head one way.

“Or foe?” she finished with a tilt the other way.

“Neither?” he asked.

“Good answer.” she grinned.

“How is that a good answer?” he asked as she pulled back her spear… just a little.

“Because it’s the true one for the most part.” she shrugged. “I hate when everyone says friend immediately. Like, bitch. We don’t know each other. You might be someone who thinks dresses don’t need pockets in which case…. you are definitely my foe.”

Daryl chuckled a bit despite the severity of the situation.

“So, Neither.” she said. “Here’s the deal. Should you choose to stay out here, you’ll freeze to death and probably be eaten by that crafty little mountain lion who keeps trying to steal my rabbits.”

Daryl made a mental note of the cougar… and the rabbits to stay away from.

“However, I would be willing to house you temporarily because let’s face it- it’ll bother my sleep tonight if I leave you out here to die. And my sleep is rather important to me. Can’t afford to sacrifice one morsel of it on account of a stray dude dicking around in a blizzard causing me nightmares.” she rambled.

Daryl was just doing his best to keep up with this rambled thought process of hers but he had gathered she had shelter from a blizzard and no matter what lay there… it seemed better than freezing to death… or being eaten by a wild animal.

“Ok….” he said.

“Ok, what?” she asked.

“Ok, I’d be, uh, grateful for the help.” he said.

“Oh!” she smiled. “Great!”

Then the world went dark because she smacked him over the head with her spear and knocked him out.

He came too not terribly long after, hanging upside down over the back of some type of animal.

It only took him a few moments to realize that it was a massive moose and he made to move.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” came that voice again. “Best not to spook Sprinkles. He’s a bit jumpy sometimes.”

“Sprinkles?”

“Yes, Sprinkles. He has little flecks on his nose. So he looks like the cutest little cupcake… with sprinkles.”

Daryl was suddenly regretting his decision.

Maybe death by freezing would’ve been better.

This poor woman seemed to have completely lost her mind.

He got it.

He understood.

The world was what it was now and many, many, MANY people had completely cracked under the pressure of it.

He wasn’t entirely sure he shouldn’t have taken his chances with being eaten alive by the cougar.

Still wasn’t sure he might not be eaten alive anyway.

There were some who had turned and some who had just turned insane.

“Close your eyes or I’ll have to knock you out again.” she said.

“What? Why?” he asked, trying to figure out where she was.

“Because, I can’t very well let you know the location and see the entrance can I?” she asked. “What if you have nefarious intentions?”

“For fuck’s sake- I don’t have- hey! Don’t hit me again!” he said, catching the end of that spear and his eyes widening when he realized that that insane woman was literally leaning back against the antlers of that moose as if she was lounging in bed.

Not sitting atop an enormous wild animal in the middle of a blizzard.

“Well, close your eyes then.” she said, launching forward to where she was less than an inch from his face. “Actually, I’ll need to blind fold you.”

“Listen, maybe I’ll just-”

“First of all, if you hop off now, you’ll spook Sprinkles. She’ll kick you in a panic and you’ll die and be eaten by some critter.” she said.

“Ok-”

“Second, I’ve already told you, you’ll freeze to death in this weather. I’m offering you shelter so you don’t freeze and then get eaten. All I’m asking is a little anonymity.” she said.

“Ok but-”

“Third, you said you didn’t want me to knock you out so the other option is for me to blind fold you!” she said.

“I’ll close my eyes. I’ll cover them with my hands.” he said and covered his eyes with his hands. “Please, I have issues with the blind fold.”

“Trauma?” she asked.

He nodded.

“That sucks. I’m sorry.” she said. “And sorry about the likely concussion.”

“Yeah, that shit hurts.” he chuckled. “You’re deadly with that thing.”

“More than you know.” she said and grew silent.

Daryl remained true to his word by keeping his hands over his eyes but he could FEEL her staring him down to make sure they stayed there.

He wasn’t entirely sure how much time had passed but his teeth were chattering and his fingers were aching from the cold when suddenly she took hold of them.

He jumped at the difference in temperature.

“I’m just guiding you. Keep your eyes closed but I’ll help you down and get you inside.” she said.

“If you would just let me see I can get down myself.”

“Do you want to freeze to death or not?”

He sighed.

“Look, dude. We do this my way or you face the wilderness alone. I’ve been burned before and I’m not doing it again. God, my guardian angel, maybe it’s your guardian angel… something is telling me to keep your ass alive for the night at least. Maybe it’s my conscience or the desire to not add any MORE nightmares to my nightly toss and turn tilt a whirl of terror. However, I am not about to risk whatever fraction of safety I’ve managed to procure here. Either do it my way or I hit you with the stick and leave you in the fucking snow.” she ranted.

Daryl recognized the hard edge to her voice.

It was a bit of panic and, likely, exhausted that this was life now.

He got it so he held his hands up in surrender but kept his eyes screwed shut.

“Ok, we do it your way.” he said softly before adding. “Thank you.”

She took his hands again, helping him down and moving him forward.

Hoof prints sounded behind him.

“Uh…”

“Don’t mind Sprinkles. He knows where he goes and outside of an emergency he’d prefer if we don’t bother him until morning.” she said. “Trust me. He has a lady friend around here somewhere and you do not want to see that. When I say trust me, I mean trust me. You need to add some trauma to your life? That’ll do it.”

Daryl just nodded, a little unnerved by this woman but also becoming increasingly aware of the fact that he did need her.

At least for the night.

She was right.

He would’ve frozen to death.

The wind was nearly ripping him apart at the moment and then suddenly…. warmth.

The kind of warmth where it was such a stark contrast to the raging wind that it almost hurt for a second before it turned to a blissful ebb of comfort.

“Alright, you can open your eyes.” she said and he did, revealing them to be inside a room.

It was a strange thing with wood everywhere and with what seemed like an endless ceiling.

“Is this?” he said, eyes narrowing at his surroundings.

When they landed on the woman, her impish little smile confirmed his suspicions.

“Keebler elves aren’t the only ones who learned to live in trees.” she teased and he couldn’t help but chuckle.

That’s what he had thought.

They were inside a tree.

“The animals do it.” she shrugged.

“The animals are covered in fur.” Daryl pointed out even though it did seem fairly well insulated.

She lifted a brow and gestured to her attire.

The massive furry covering draped over her, the boots wrapped in fur.

To be honest, there wasn’t much of her that wasn’t covered in it.

“You’re the one who decided to go out severely underdressed in the middle of a snowstorm.” she said pointedly.

“Well, I hadn’t planned to be in the middle of a snowstorm.” he admitted.

“No one really ever does.” she shrugged. “‘Cept me but I’m used to this weather. Whenever you get ready to leave, I’ll give you some furs. I’ve got some things that will fit you.”

Daryl blinked at her kindness, “Thank you.”

She nodded and waved him on, “Come on. Let’s get you thawed out and get some food in your belly. I’m sure you’re hungry.”

“Starving.” he admitted.

“Well, that’s good because there’s plenty.” she said. “Follow me.”

Daryl followed this wacky woman deeper and deeper down into what he could only assume was the earth beneath his old tree until it was so warm that he actually began to sweat.

When they finally cleared the dim lighting of her tunnel systems he was almost blinded by the glow of firelight.

“Y/N, that you?” came a voice in the distance and it was then that Daryl noticed a rocking chair in front of that fire.

“Yes, Auntie. It’s me.” the woman, Y/N, answered. “I’ve brought a traveller as well.”

“You hid the way?” the older woman asked.

“Yep.” Y/N said, shucking her giant fur coverings and making Daryl do a bit of a double take at her soft, squishy shape.

‘That’s pretty.’ he thought to himself.

“He might have a concussion though.” Y/N admitted. “I may have rattled his brains like Rafiki the baboon from the Lion King movie. Remember that one?”

“What do you mean do I remember that one, you little brat?” the woman said, finally turning to reveal silver hair twisted into braids. “You nearly drove me insane with that movie when you were little.”

Y/N grinned and turned to Daryl, “This is Auntie. Just call her Auntie. She gets a bit testy about the word ‘ma’am’ and it’s no use to even ask for her name because if you try to say Miss anything, she’ll whack you with that cane.”

“So you come by the whole smacking people with sticks things honestly then?” he teased.

She grinned at him, “Well, truthfully Auntie and I aren’t blood related.”

“I think that only made it worse.” Auntie said from her chair.

“Why?” Daryl asked out of curiosity.

“Her mother and I were best friends.” Auntie said.

“Call it what it was, ya’ll were gay for each other.” Y/N said, taking her boots off.

She was less concerned with finding Daryl a blanket since he was literally sweating in front of the fire and more concerned with getting all her layers off before she overheated.

Auntie narrowed her eyes at Y/N, “It was a different time.”

“It was the 90s.” Y/N said.

“A different time!” Auntie said and threw her slipper at the woman. “Believe it or not, it still wasn’t very accepted even before the whole world descended into the end of times, young lady. And it had less to do with the time really and more to do with the location. Parts of the south didn’t take too kindly to it and more specifically the part that she and I lived in was small, racist, homophobic and generally terrible. All for about fifteen people or so. Those fifteen were angels but they suffered in that hell hole just as much as we did.”

“I’m sorry, Auntie.” Y/N said, tending to the large pot swinging over the fire. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I was just teasing.”

“I know. I’m just a bit sensitive today. The storm hurts my bones. I hate that I sound like my mother when I say that but it’s true. It suddenly explains why that demon of a woman was so cranky all the time. Her shit hurt.”

Daryl couldn’t help but laugh.

“What is your name?” Auntie asked.

“Oh, shit. I didn’t even ask that.” Y/N chuckled before handing over a bowl of stew with rich deep spices that smelled heavily.

“It’s Daryl.” he answered Auntie before nodding to Y/N. “Thank you.”

Y/N returned the nod but it was Auntie that spoke, “Well, Daryl, to answer your earlier question as to why it’s worse…. because that little brat has the face of the woman who I was very much in love with… but the attitude of myself. My mother always said she hoped I had a child that was exactly like me so I paid for my raisin. I didn’t even carry that one and, I’ll be if my mother didn’t get exactly what she said.”

The three of them chuckled but Y/N spoke, “I don’t mind that though. I miss mama but I can see her in the mirror and I think having your attitude is a pretty good thing. You’re a tough bird and you teach me every day. Besides, mama used to tell me that an attitude and a spirit were two sides of one coin and that she became a rich woman the moment she fell in love with you.”

Auntie sniffled, too proud to let them see her tears.

“That mushy shit you get from her though.” she said.

Daryl and Y/N nearly choked on their laughter… and the stew.

“What is this?” he asked, scraping up the last of his bowl.

“Auntie’s pozole.” she responded. “Here, gimme your bowl and have some more.”

Daryl didn’t argue when she ladeled him out another portion and fully prepared to tuck in when Auntie laid a hand on his arm.

“Y/N, the lime.” Auntie said.

“You have limes? In this weather?” Daryl asked in shock.

“Lime powder.” Auntie said. “Oh about three or four years ago when we were travelling, we’d yet to find our home yet and the little brat over there decided to go on a raid. I told her there was no way she’d find anything after all this time. Everything had been looted for years and there just wasn’t anything to be had.”

“But I had a hunch!” Y/N called from out of sight, making Daryl smile in amusement.

“Yes, she had a hunch.” Auntie said, rolling her eyes with a fond smile, “That she gets from her mother as well. The stubborn ass arguing that came when I told her not to and it was useless … Well, that’s all me.”

Daryl couldn’t help but laugh.

“Anyway, I tell her it’s useless. She swears it’s not.”

“And it wasn’t!” came that voice again.

“I forbid her to go and realized the moment I said those words, I had just carved it in stone that she WOULD be going no matter what. Every time my mother forbade me to do something, I nearly killed myself making sure I did it so when I said it and I saw that look in her eye…. I knew I better just hug her tight because she was going no matter what.” Auntie said. “Scared me to death. I worried for hours. I mean, in these times. It was just the two of us and I feared-”

Y/N came back around the corner, “Auntie, it all worked out alright.”

There was an apologetic look on her face as she added some spices to Auntie’s bowl.

There was a ghost of a memory on her face that told Daryl that the two of them had probably butted heads a lot over the years and maybe sometimes that hadn’t ended up so well.

It caused a ghost of a memory to pass over his own features when he thought of his brother, Merle.

She settled down on the floor between the two chairs.

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take your seat.” he said, getting up. “Here, I-”

“Sit down, Daryl.” Auntie said, waving him off. “There are other chairs if we need one. She’d rather sit on the floor anyway. She’s weird.”

“Hey!”

“You are!”

“Mama sat on the floor all the time.”

“Yeah and she was weird too.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, giving this one up as she handed a container to Daryl, “It’s lime powder so be gentle because it’s a lot more potent this way but a little makes a huge difference if you want to try.”

“Here.” he said, holding out the bowl. “You do it.”

She gave him a smile and a little sprinkle before settling back down.

“However, weird as I may be, I would like to point out that I was not wrong about my hunch that time and we are still benefiting from it to this day.” Y/N said, happily tucking into her meal and grinning when she saw Daryl’s eyes widen the moment the lime hit him. “Good isn’t it?”

“Amazing.” he said.

“It really is.” Auntie said. “And I do have to thank the little brat for it.”

“What did you find exactly? I mean, was it just lime powder?” he asked.

Auntie shook her head, “No, this kid comes back to our hideout with six duffle bags strapped to her.”

“What?” he laughed.

“Yeah, cutest little pack mule I’d ever seen.” Auntie said.

“Hey!” said Y/N, a bit disgruntled at being called a mule.

“I don’t even know how she moved with the way she had them on her so it’s still a mystery to me as to how she walked and managed to evade the undead.” Auntie said.

“Talent.” Y/N grinned, obviously proud of herself.

Auntie and Daryl laughed at the sheer cheek of her.

“In reality, it was sheer determination. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d had fresh limes and I thought, I’m taking this back if it kills me. Almost did when I nearly choked myself to death with one of the bag straps.”

Daryl couldn’t help it.

He cracked at the image of that and burst into laughter.

“Oh my God.” he laughed.

“Yeah, that’s what I said too because I was sure I was about to see him in about 3.5 seconds if I couldn’t get that thing off me. Luckily, Jesus loves me and let me take my limes home. Probably because he did not want to listen to the amount of complaining I would do if I got to heaven and realized that I choked to death on a bag strap… and didn’t even get to enjoy the limes.” she said.

Auntie shook her head with a smile on her lips.

“And where exactly did you find these limes?” Daryl asked out of curiosity. “I figured anything in a grocery store would’ve been long gone by that point.”

“Oh, it was and I had no intentions of going in those anyway. The undead tend to lurk there. I guess it’s kind of like a baited trap.” she said.

There was a moment of silence between the three of them as they acknowledged the reality of that statement.

“But I didn’t find them there. I found them in an abandoned garden nursery. I went in thinking maybe there might be some stray tools or seeds. Which there were, mind you. Another hunch proven right.” she sassed. “But what I didn’t expect was that there would still be a usable green house back there. It was overgrown but there were lime trees in there out your ass and as luck would have it, they were ripe and ready to be picked. So I damn well did.”

“She definitely did.” Auntie said, patting the top of the woman’s head fondly. “Five bags full of limes and one stuffed with seed packets and peppers.”

“It’s was great.” Y/N said. “I felt like I won the lottery. I went shopping, didn’t cost me a thing. See, Auntie. Jesus loves me. My guardian angel might be tired of my ass but Jesus? That guy? He loves me.”

Daryl couldn’t help but smile.

It was curious to him how she still seemed to keep her faith in the world that they lived in… but it was something that looked absolutely beautiful on her.

“Or maybe it’s because he’s got a sense of humor and he thought it would be hilarious to watch me waddle back with six duffle bags strapped to me all the while I tried to act like Ethan Hunt in Mission Impossible. Let me assure you, Daryl, I was not as graceful as Mr. Tom Cruise. I looked like a sassy penguin at best.” she said. “Either way. God still led me to the limes and that is a very good thing in my book. Thank you, Lord, for this delicious bowl of awesome which I am currently enjoying. I ask that you continue to bless me to be your funky little creation. Love you, man. ‘ppreciate you, lord. You da man.”

“If that offended you, try not to take it personal.” Auntie said. “She’s not being silly or making a joke. That’s just who she is and that’s just how she talks to God.”

“Hey, I’m not judging.” Daryl shrugged. “I’ve never been huge into it myself but the times I have I always thought you were just supposed to talk to him like he was your friend, right?”

“Yup.” Y/N said. “God is your homie. Believe that.”

“It can be hard sometimes.” he admitted, thinking back at all the people he’d lost.

“God didn’t do this to the earth.” Auntie said. “It came from evil. God knew it would happen, of course and we don’t understand why he works in the way he does but he does. I had to accept that when her mama passed.”

Daryl just nodded.

It seemed hollow to say ‘I’m sorry’ anymore.

Everyone had lost someone to this and to say it now just felt cheap at times.

“Mama didn’t turn or anything.” Y/N said. “She had cancer. God called her home before all this started.”

“That’s why I believe in God.” Auntie said. “Her mother was the purest spirit there was and I never could understand why she had to go. With cancer? And it was so sudden. She was fine one day, the next she passed out and then we’re headed to the hospital and the doctors say she’s got a month, maybe two.”

Daryl didn’t even know how to respond but he didn’t have to.

Auntie continued, “She made it three and then she died. She was at home with us. We gave her a beautiful funeral, laid her to rest and then the world ended. I thank God every day that he took her because I know what would’ve happened to her. With her kind spirit? She’d have been turned or worse right off the bat.”

“Mama worked at a nursing home until she got sick.” Y/N said, answering Daryl’s unasked question.

Realization dawned on him.

He remembered all too well.

The hospitals.

The nursing homes.

Those were awful and heartbreaking and soul crushing.

“She never would’ve left them.” Auntie said. “If she didn’t get turned it would’ve been because she would been eaten al-”

“Auntie-”

“I’m alright. Help me to bed, sweetheart. You two stay awake as long as you like and you get him fixed up, Y/N. But I’m tired and my leg is killing me. I need to lay down.”

Daryl was quiet as Y/N led Auntie to another room.

She appeared again once more to retrieve a pipe and a small pot of herbs before disappearing again.

The scent of lavender and mint permeated the air as Y/N moved back into the room.

“She’ll be alright. It’s the what ifs that get her sometimes.” she said with a shrug.

Daryl nodded, “I get it.”

“Well, are you still hungry? There’s plenty more.” she said gesturing to the pot still simmering over the fire.

“No. I’m full.” he said and patted his stomach. “Thank you. Where should I…?”

She looked to the bowl in his hand after he had trailed off, “Oh, I’ll take it.”

“Please.” he said. “At least let me help.”

She shrugged with an amused smile and let him follow her as she moved to the other room, “It’s just three bowls.”

“And three spoons.” he said.

“I’m not even going to wash them tonight.” she said. “I don’t want to bring more water to boil. Just gonna rinse them off until morning.”

“Still.” he said and moved up to rinse them.

He plunged his hands into the tub not at all expecting it to be as icy cold as it was.

“Little cold?” Y/N asked.

“Fuck yeah.” he said, yanking them out and happily accepting the rag she offered him.

She giggled, “Go sit down by the fire and I’ll bring you something to drink. Do you like tea?”

“I’m not a picky person.” he shrugged.

She snorted, “Alright. Well, we’ll have some tea and then I’ll show you where you’ll sleep.”

He nodded, “Thanks again.”

“Thank Jesus.” she shrugged. “I was just out checking the rabbit traps. He’s the one that sent your Guardian Angel. I’m sure they’re the one that caused me to follow the footprints.”

Daryl said nothing as he waited but he did say thank you to God because when she returned and her face was lit by firelight… he thought to himself.

‘Maybe I do believe. Angels must be real because God definitely sent me a Guardian Snow Angel today.’

……..

Hello, loves! I hope you enjoy this holiday content!

Hope ya’ll are having a great day!

Love you.

—

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K, Love you, Bye!

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x ps reader #ps reader #plus size reader #daryl dixon x plus size reader #the walking dead #twd #twd x plus size reader #twd x ps reader #winter imagine

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almosthonest · 10 days ago

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Peart : Homosexuality, Comphet, and Potential Hypersexuality (and Toxic Masculinity)

a sort of breakdown to peart and why the functions the way he functions. + plus how he could doesn't represent the racism or sexism, but the potential homophobia spread across gangs. much of his backstory is going to be mentioned, so trigger warnings for : abuse (physical and emotional), homophobia, mentions of sex and sex work. if i can find anymore i will make an edit to this.

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as i've stated before, peart is a homophobic homosexual (and he has those vibes pretty strong). and it's not necessarily even his fault. growing up, his father has toxic masculinity really bad. horrible, even. to the point where he berated peart for even having the slightest bit of emotions. this could be the reason why he barely shows it. peart is always so mean looking. he doesn't show any other emotions other than the mean ones, and the other ones? well, he feels them more internally than externally, which is very bad for him to say the least. his father used the word gay as an insult, to the point where peart will panic at the slight indication of someone pointing that out, even getting defensive at the matter.

being kicked out at fifteen for what he thought wasn't wrong really altered his brain chemistry. not only that but to even realize how many people had the exact same attitude as his father ... i molded him, and being out on the street certainly didn't make it any better. especially with him sleeping / working in bars. a lot of toxic masculinity builds up in there. even in gangs, which is why peart was so shocked as to who the hurricanes were, and even the bizzies (who i headcanon are gay, but are just really good at seducing anyone.)

playing gigs at bars weren't cutting it with money, so he did the next best thing (or what he thought was the best next thing), which was sleeping with people for money. and this is where his comphet really comes into play. peart has this problem even when joining the rogues, which is cherry picking what women he likes, who he deems attractive, even sleeping with them to prove that he's normal. with every male customer he got, there was always a female one. on and off girlfriends, one night stands, anything to convince himself that he fit with the norm. which his comphet forms into his hypersexuality, which also kind of forms into self hatred, internalized homophobia. and peart has so much of it that he'll even unleash it on anyone who even questions him about it.

there's so much toxic masculinity surrounded in gangs, especially around that time period (70s, primarily) they're often portrayed as the most masculine people on earth, especially getting offensive when homosexuality is even mentioned. even if the rogues are potentially queer coded, there's still an air of homophobia lingering around and no one is going to admit that they like the same sex. peart gets angry even at the mention and it sparks an urge. he feels like he constantly has to prove himself. his father kicked him out simply because of reputations purposes. a gay son? absolutely not. before then, he'd burn him with his cigarettes in case he showed, "gay behavior". and sad as it is, peart eventually the rogues as a family, and the last thing he wants is to be tossed out for the same reasons his dad did. (and even if they're not the best people to hang out with, he found people to hang out with).

and even seeing mercy, his friend, practically attached to swan's hip when they meet on their turf ... it makes him jealous almost. that she could even come to terms with who she is after both of them sharing the same copious amounts of comphet and he found someone to understand. but he just couldn't shake it. he couldn't shake off his internalized homophobia, nor his comphet or hypersexual urges. he doesn't know that he ever will because of the damage he's been through. and to him, it absolutely sucks.

#warriors musical #warriors album #warriors (2024)#original character : sawyer (peart) thompson #warriors (2024) original character

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hollowwrites · 2 years ago

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Putting the RIP in Scriptorium

Summary - I have been thinking about when Ominis would have begun to warm towards MC and one of those times is in the Scriptorium…because who doesn’t love devastating and upsetting narratives…

Warnings: Angst, Crucio (pain), mentions of death and dying but also comfort and Fluff

Also Sebastian is a bit of a dick in this. Sorry! I tried to portray him as battling his darker thoughts with who he truly is cause he is a soft boi I know this!!

Word Count - 2489

“I said, no”

“Ominis, get over yourself” Sebastian tried to get the words out in a calm, confident and orderly manner, but the panic was starting to set in as he looked over at his best friend “Please, do you want to die down here?”

“You don’t want to know the answer to that…” Ominis spoke, voice shaking but his will absolute.

“Ominis?” Eve finally spoke up. The reality of the situation they found themselves in, shaking her to her core. But hearing Ominis say he’d rather die than cast that curse…Was the curse that bad or did he just want things to end? She approached the pacing Slytherin “Do you mean that?” She reached out for his arm, a comforting gesture that was met only with violent remorse. He shook her hand away, eyes fixed firmly on the floor.

“I-“ he began before being interrupted

“You talk to him! Maybe he’ll listen to you. He’s got a soft spot for you” Sebastian huffed, striding past the pair to the other end of the corridor, staring at the wailing door. Ominis lifted his head finally to glare after Sebastian. He shook his head over and over as though he was shaking thoughts from his head. Or he was truly disappointed in the way Sebastian was acting. She couldn’t tell, his expression remaining unreadable.

“Please don’t make me do this” he whispered

“I’m not going to make you do anything” she reached for him again, this time he accepted the gesture allowing her hand to curl around his arm. “We’ll figure something out”

Something about her voice almost made Ominis believe her. He took a couple of calming breaths and nodded.

“We’ve ‘figured something out’” Sebastian said voice laden with irritation and fear “We need to cast that curse. End of.

“I don’t think I could cast that curse if I wanted to” Ominis started “You have to want to cause pain for the Cruciatus Curse to work. I don’t want to hurt either of you”

“Ridiculous” Sebastian scoffed “Eve, come here a second”

As Eve turned away from Ominis, he grabbed her arm. Unusual for him. Not 5 minutes ago he’d rejected her touch and now he actively sought her out.

“Please…” Ominis begged, not entirely sure what for “I…”

“Everything will be okay” She insisted. Her footsteps fading slightly as she walked away.

“If he’s not going to do it, we have to. I can teach you the curse or I can cast it on you.”

“You never said you knew how to cast it”

“I don’t…but he’s leaving me no choice but to try” Ominis sighed as he continued his pacing, fully aware of Sebastian’s snarky little remarks.

“Cast it on me, I don’t want to know that spell” Eves voice wavered for the first time.

“No! Absolutely not” Ominis barked suddenly approaching the pair. The faint wailing emanating from the door rang loudly in his ears.

“You’d rather she cast it on me?” Sebastian asked clearly angered that the makeshift scenario, in his head, meant his best friend cared more for a new student than for him.

“Of course not! I’d rather we not be here, AT ALL!! I shouldn’t have listened to either of you!”

“Well you did listen to her and now we’re-“

“Enough!” Evelyn snapped “Cast it on me now before I change my mind”

Sebastian looked at her, truly, for the first time since they entered the Scriptorium. Either she should’ve been sorted into Gryffindor or she was so angry and distraught that all logic had left her.

People often say Bravery can be mistaken for stupidity.

Her eyes were blank and her lips were pulled into a twisted line. He’d never seen her like this. She almost looked like Anne. What had he done?

“Are you ready?” Blinking away images of his sister.

“I can’t listen to this” Ominis began walking away. Not that there was anywhere for him to go. His step faltered as he turned back toward the pair again.

“I’m ready” Ominis’ hand flew to hers quickly. If he couldn’t escape this, then he may as well be the relief that he wished he had.

“Crucio”

Oh. Perhaps Sebastian had failed to cast it. For a second, Ominis was almost proud of his friend for not having the capability to cast that wretched curse. He was a better man then he was, clearly.

Until…

Ominis felt Evelyn stiffen up. Her whole body shifting perfectly straight. The fingers wrapped around his, squeezed impossibly tight and, in any other situation, he would have complained she was hurting him. For now, he can take the fraction of pain she was undoubted feeling.

Evelyn fell to her knees, almost toppling Ominis with her. She choked out a scream as wave after wave of numbing pain washed over her. She gasped for air as the pain subsided, her body aching in ways she didn’t know it could.

“Are you alright?” Ominis spoke, a little louder than expected. The panic evident in his voice, she weakly squeezed his hand to reassure him.

“That was…excruciating” she looked up at Ominis through heavy lids. And then a noise escaped her that Ominis would never have assumed could after such an ordeal.

She laughed.

It was humourless and dry but she laughed.

“I guess…that’s why they call it Crucio huh?” She stuttered out. He joined in her laugh. Singular and without joy.

“You’re impossible”

Not a word had been uttered since they all decided to leave the Scriptorium. Ominis dutifully clung to Evelyns’ arm. She had told them both multiple times she was fine but Ominis knew all too well the toll that Crucio can enact. He would make sure to keep an ear out for her, more so than usual, over the next few days. Every now and then, he felt her twitch and convulse around his arm. Each time he felt it, he instinctively squeezed her closer to him, his arm moving from through hers to around her shoulders.

Sebastian on the other hand, couldn’t have been more different. He practically skipped out of the hidden exit, Spell book tucked under his arm and a giddy smile, Eve hadn’t seen since their duel at the beginning of the year. He offered her his hand before speaking;

“Fancy a late night research session in the Undercroft?” He raised his eyebrow to her and smiled the way he knew would usually make her putty in his hands. His fingers twitched after a second. “Evie? Come on”

She whimpered, convulsing, quite noticeably, once again under Ominis’ arm. Ominis closed his eyes and clenched his teeth.

“Say you’re joking, Sebastian” he said through gritted teeth.

“Oh come on, Ominis. We survived and we got what we needed-“ Sebastian held the spell book up as proof

“We got what you wanted” he bit back “She’s coming with me to the Common Room. She needs rest, she-“

“-Can speak for herself” Sebastian shot a look to Eve who retreated further into Ominis.

Why was she looking at him like that? She’d asked for that spell to be cast on her. No. He didn’t think she deserved it but…Actually how had he managed to cast that? He looked into her eyes now, glassy and bloodshot. The usual light grey of her irises had darkened with her tears. Even her skin had paled.

She looked exactly like Anne.

“I want to go with Ominis” she said meekly but confidently “We will see you tomorrow. Enjoy your book”

“Goodnight, Sebastian” Ominis released a breathe he hadn’t realised he was holding and turned with Evelyn in tow. He fumbled nervously for his wand, his hands shaking as it guided him through the dungeons. Evelyns own shaky hand rest upon his in a failed attempt to steady his hand. He smiled at the gesture, pulling her closer.

Neither turned back to check on Sebastian.

They walked back to the Common room in relative silence. Ominis would ask how she was after a violent twitch and she would hum her response, feeling neither good nor bad. Well, at least she truly knew what ‘bad’ felt like now. Maybe this would humble her.

As they reached the bottom of the spiral staircase of their shared common room, Evelyn stopped walking. Ominis continued a few more steps before turning back to her.

“You need to rest, Evelyn” Ominis insisted

“I don’t want to be alone right now” she stammered out, fighting the tears threatening to spill over her lashes. Ominis peered in her direction, holding out his hand, similar to Sebastian.

Strange how a gesture can be exactly the same and yet feel so different. Sebastian’s felt so controlling. The impatient twitch of his fingers giving away how he truly felt in the moment. Annoyed and exasperated. Had he really wanted her to go with him or did he just feel guilty that he’d hurt her? Either way, he wasn’t the person she thought he was. Or perhaps he was losing himself. Based on how Ominis was reacting, this wasnt normal. Maybe she needed to give him a second chance.

I’ll speak with him tomorrow.

Even now, whilst Eves’ mind wondered, Ominis hand remained, delicate and patient.

“Sorry…” she mumbled unaware of how long she had zoned out.

“Take your time, you’ve been through a lot. Come, let’s sit by the fire a while” he stepped closer to her, hand still outstretched.

“You don’t have to give me your hand if you don’t want to” she said recalling how he’d flinched from her earlier in the evening. He smiled, lips crooked.

“Please. I wouldn’t offer it if I didn’t want you to take it” Eventually, after searching his face for any discomfort, she took his hand limply. All of her strength was currently being channeled to her legs, keeping her standing. Sitting, sounded wonderful.

He guided her to the chairs surrounding the fireplace. She flopped down onto the two piece settee and groaned as her bones and muscles protested against the change in position.

“You may be too unwell for classes tomorrow, I’ll arrange for your professors to make note of their subjects.” He began pacing in front of the fire “You may experience nausea, nose bleeds, bruising. You must tell me if you do. Despite what you might think, Garreth makes a fantastic Wiggenweld that should clear up any bruising and alleviate any sickness. Do not take advantage of the fact I’m blind and I can’t see any of these things. I will find out.”

“Why are you doing this? I thought you didn’t like me”

“Didn’t like you?” He stopped, finally sitting next to her “Why would you think such a thing?”

“Well…The Undercroft situation wasn’t exactly friendly…” she chuckled

“I…apologise. Sebastian has been frustrating me lately. Asking questions about the Dark Arts and my family. He knows better than anyone the things I’ve dealt with, and yet he…persists” he sighed “That day at the Undercroft was…I was rude and my threats were uncalled for. I never intended to act on any of them. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry for encouraging Sebastian. I feel…Maybe if I wasn’t muggle-born and knew a little more about magic I’d know that the Scriptorium was a bad idea. I’d know that-“

“None of this is your fault. You realise that?” Ominis held his hands up to stop her monologue

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better. If I hadn’t have convinced you to go in, we wouldn’t have been able to access that wretched place. I wouldn’t have been cursed, you wouldn’t have had to come face to face with your Aunt, Sebastian wouldn’t have some journal containing god knows what…” she trailed off “I just…feel…responsible”

“In no way are you responsible for Sebastian’s actions. I know him, he’d have found a way into that Scriptorium one way or another. Or he’d have found another source of information for Dark Magic” he placed his hand on her shoulder “He’s stubborn” he smiled, squeezing her shoulder. She smiled up at him.

“Well, if you truly believe all that, not saying I do, but if you do…I’m at least sorry you had to witness that again.”

“It’s…thank you”

“And you’re looking after me now. Not many people could endure that and then later help someone knowing exactly what they’re going through. I don’t think I could handle it…” she shivered

“I’m just…being here. No one was there for me.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Stop apologising” he chuckled

“…I’m sorry” he heard the smile in her voice as she apologised for the hundredth time that night.

“Imelda’s coming, she’ll most likely drag you off to bed” Eve sniffed before checking over her shoulder. Reyes was storming over to them both, already dressed for bed.

“Where’ve you been? You look awful.” She said folding her arms across her chest, a distinct knot forming above her brow.

“Please Imelda, it’s been a long night we don’t need your nagging right now” Ominis stood taking Eves hand as he did.

“You and Sebastian aren’t the only one who care for her you know” she snapped back

“Aww you care for me?” Eve croaked

“Of course. Can’t have my only decent competition giving up the ghost now can I?” Her accent often muddied her tone, but her concern was quite apparent. “What happened?”

“She-“ Ominis started before being interrupted

“I fell down the stairs. Whilst they were moving.”

Her steady heartbeat and unwavering voice scared Ominis. Rarely was someone so good at lying that even he couldn’t pick up on it. But her confidence had fooled even him. If he hadn’t been there, hadn’t witnessed the horrors first hand, he’d would’ve believed her completely.

“Merlin’s beard…no wonder you look so bad”

“Thanks, Imelda” Eve replied sarcastically. “I’m ready to go to bed now.” Ominis nodded as he helped Eve stand.

“Think you’ll be able to handle the stairs?” Imelda joked but offered her arm for support anyway. She wasn’t half as abrasive as people thought.

They walked towards the dorms until they came to the stairs leading up to the girls bedrooms. Eve paused looking back to Ominis.

“Thank you again, Ominis. I feel much better now”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve…fell down the stairs multiple times. I understand”

She whimpered, thinking of the pain and heartache Ominis must have put up with back ‘home’. Without thinking, she released Imelda’s arm and bolted towards him. She slammed into him, wrapping her arms around his waist and squeezed, pouring all her empathy into him.

“I’m so sorry” she mumbled against his collar.

She thought perhaps she’d gone too far. Only an hour ago she was scared to touch him, now she threw herself at him. She pulled away, embarrassed before she felt his hands cradle her back and his cheek rest against the top of her head.

“Let’s make sure this never happens again”

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wolvesandfoxes25 · 9 months ago

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The beauty of forgiveness..and how it tied together two storylines.

So, I did make a post on Jean saving Reiner but as I cooked dinner tonight, I thought back to one of my main otps...Destiel. And how Castiel saved Dean from hell. And...I thought back to Jean saving Reiner, and it clicked in my brain. Like a bulb flicking on.

TRIGGER WARNING: Suicide attempt gif from AOT and talk of suicidal ideation. PWC (proceed with caution.)

Anyway, we all know that Reiner was suicidal in Season 4. He was being eaten alive by guilt.. Not only that, but his ENTIRE life had been a lie. Not to mention, he was the only one in his group to return home. There's a lot of layers to Reiners tragic character. Self hatred, survivors guilt, insomnia, PTSD, weight loss, etc.)

All of these events came from him waiting for death.

First gif was after the declaration of war. He wasn't going to fight, he was waiting for it to all be over. He even says.."Just let me...die in peace." Suicidal ideation.

Second one..he attempts suicide. The ONLY thing that stops him from pulling that trigger was Falco and the future child warriors. That's it.

Third one: Waiting for Falco to eat him after Zeke transforms everyone. Didn't fight, or struggle, just wanted to be eaten and done. That's suicidal ideation.

Honestly, I could probably tack on more, but those were the BLATANT tries at killing himself. Not to mention, he allowed Jean to beat him to a bloody pulp and probably would've let him beat him to death, too. Yes, I said allowed.. he didn't make any sort of attempt to fight, didn't put his arms up, no shielding his face, nothing. He wanted that beating because he felt he deserved it. That's why he didn't fight back. Honestly, a part of me felt like he goaded Jean, he knows his temper (hair trigger) knows it's a sensitive subject. Knows nothing he says will make it better. And kept going, anyway. But that's just MY theory.

^^rough scene to watch. Because it makes Jean feel so fucking badly.

Part 2: Forgiven?

Jean says he forgives Reiner, but it still feels...empty? To me. But hell, maybe that's JUST me. Cause Reiner doesn't forgive himself. I think he's relieved to some degree that they UNDERSTAND the plight he, Annie and Bertolt went through. But is that forgiveness? Or just understanding?

Part 3: Reiner played a big part in Jeans story.

It's been established during training Reiner was held in high regard by the other scouts. Which is exactly what Reiner was trying to portray. A fake personality. A fake sense of security for those around him. And Jean wasn't impervious to this. He, like Reiner, had his own facade. Being a smart ass and overly confident. Which...as we know covered low self-esteem, low self worth and fear. Man, sounds like someone else we know, huh? Few things we know of Jean and Reiners childhoods..

Both bullied

Both 'sweet boys'

Both sensitive

Both mamas boys (I don't like Carina)

I'm gonna just add this. I LOVE how a lot of the men in this manga all really love their mothers. Jean, Eren, Armin, Levi, & Connie. I digress though.

Jean wanted to iminate Reiners' strength, perseverance, confidence, and skill.

^^bisexual panic 😋😋

"That beautiful bastard."

Continued on Post 2...

#jean x reiner #reijean #my meta #reiner x jean #reiner braun #jean kirstein #jean kirschtein #aot #attack on titan #snk #shingeki no kyojin #part 1 of 2

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ghostedghouls · 1 year ago

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Until then..

✢ Plot: Everyone has noticed how Swiss is going absolutely crazy on stage this tour. And I am going to ruin it for everyone and write angst about it because I'm an asshole like that.

or; how swiss handles his fear of abandonment after aether got sent back to the pit.

✢ genre: angst

✢ warnings: panic attack (sort of?)

✢ a/n: this doesn't follow my actual headcanons, i just wanted to explore this idea a bit. Also please don't apply this to the irl situation. This is pure fiction and is not meant to be taken any other way! I write about the fictional characters, not the real life people behind them.

Mountain eyed the multi ghoul carefully from where he was sitting in the dressing room. The other ghoul was heaving and sweaty, his shoulders raising and falling dramatically with each breath.

Mountain waited for the other ghouls to leave before he cornered Swiss.

"What's up with you.", he asked in a serious voice, the multi ghoul jumping slightly. He had clearly been in his thoughts.

"What do you mean?", Swiss asked, pulling a clean shirt over his head, carefully manuvering his horns through the collar.

"On stage.", Mountain said, crossing his arms, "You're... different."

Swiss turned to the earth ghoul fully, cracking his signature smile but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Enjoying the show, big guy?", he tried to joke but Mountain knew something was off. The way Swiss moved, how he held his guitar, how he threw himself to the floor, it all felt... strange. Admittedly, Swiss was known for his weird dances, shimmies and the overall feral-ness when he performed. The fans loved it, too. But something had changed and Mountain couldn't quite put his finger on it, he just knew that it did.

Mountain could see the smile on Swiss' lips waver for a second. It was unlike Swiss to not tell the others if something bothered him. He was tired? He would complain about it. He was mad about something another ghoul did? He would talk it out with the other ghoul to clear the air. He was sad? He would ask for a hug or go to another ghoul's room to cuddle.

Swiss had always been open about how he felt. He knew that communication was key and he was good at it.

"I see you out of the corner of my eyes the whole show. There's just something different about the way you present yourself. Satanas, you literally fell full body into the floor. I have never seen you do that before."

Swiss' smile dropped while Mountain was talking, his eyes distant and lost in thought but he quickly composed himself, scoffing jokingly. "Where have you been for the last years, mounty? I always mess around on stage. It's what the people like about me. I just stepped up my game this tour. People grow tired of the same old shit, they want to see something new and I delivered.", he explained but the earth ghoul didn't buy it. He didn't know whether he should push the multi ghoul, though. If Swiss was not telling him the truth, maybe it was direspectful to pry? Or maybe he was reading too much into it.

"You know you can talk to us if something is upsetting you, right?", the tall ghoul asked and Swiss rolled his eyes with a smile. "Of course. And you know I would if there was actually something wrong. Now go to the others, I'm gonna need a little longer."

Mountain had not pried after that. He just watched Swiss as the shows went on, watched how he moved, how he acted.

And it still didn't sit right with him.

Each ritual, Swiss got worse. He would throw himself to the floor, would drop to his knees like he was in pain, holding his head. The fans loved every second of it, liking the act of the feral ghoul he was portraying. But after each show, Swiss would stumble to the dressing rooms, clearly exhausted. He was very obviously unwell.

The rest of the ghouls had noticed the change in his performance as well, had asked Swiss why he was trying to be an overachiever recently. Swiss had grown visibly irritated by their teasing and had left to his bunk early. The other ghouls had exchanged confused looks but they just figured that they had hurt his ego.

"What was up with that?", Dewdrop had asked, kicking his feet up on the table, the joint he had been sharing with Swiss between his fingers.

"Maybe he's actually hurt.", Rain tried, "He's really been giving his all on stage lately."

"Yeah," Cumulus agreed, "He's soaked when he leaves the stage. I've never seen him so worn out after a show until this tour."

The others had responded with hums of agreement, wondering what had changed.

"Maybe he is trying to distract himself.", Mountain said, all eyes trained on him as he spoke. "From.. you know.. what happened with Aether.". The silence that followed was filled with sadness and grief.

"Maybe.", Rain whispered, his eyes staring into nothingness as his heart felt heavy in his chest.

That night Swiss laid awake in his bed, staring at the ceiling with tired eyes, but sleep eluded him.

He felt shaky even as he laid completely still. Maybe it was the last bit of weed flowing through his body, or maybe his body was just really exhausted from today's ritual.

He had heard the others talk about Aether after he had left and an uncomfortable feeling had spread through his chest. His heart had started hammering like he was being chased, his body suddenly so sweaty he had to remove the blanket. Fear. True and utter fear crashed through the multi ghoul as he laid in his bed, thinking about Aether. Swiss felt wetness prickle in his eyes but he blinked it away quickly.

Aether had always given his all, had played the guitar skillfully and had entertained the crowd. But still it wasn't enough. Still, he got sent back to the pit.

Maybe...- Maybe if Swiss tried harder, gave everything he's got, he would be safe. Safe from being sent back to the pit. Safe from being abandoned.

He started shaking harder, his heart pounding painfully in his ribcage. Fuck, he had to be better. He had to perform better than before, had to charm the crowd, had to show Papa that he was good at what he was doing.

Had to prove that he was worthy of being there.

He quickly turned to his side, hoping that the change in position would stop the shaking at least, but it didn't.

Maybe he could try to make the fans love him as much as possible. He could be lewd, could be a flirt, so that they cheered the loudest for him. Maybe then the clergy would know that he was devoted enough. That he was the right ghoul for this!

His tail curled around his leg for comfort but instead he started to feel claustrophobic. He quickly released it from around himself but it didn't help. He felt like the bunk was closing in on him, like he would get squished if he didn't move, like he would- oh satanas he would- surely not- he would not-

With a gasp Swiss leapt out from his bunk, landing noisily on the floor of the bus, his heart still racing in his chest. Sweat dripped down his neck and he felt the eyes of his mates on him.

His shoulders heaved with each painful breath and he nearly collapsed when he felt a hand on his back. He whirled around in shock instead, looking into the worried eyes of Mountain.

"Swiss.", he started, his voice calm and collected but clearly worried for his packmate. "Come here.", was all he whispered before dragging the multi ghoul into a tight hug. He didn't return it at first, but slowly his hands found the taller ghoul's back. After a minuted Mountain released Swiss from his embrace and watched him with sad eyes.

Mountain didn't speak, he knew the words laid on Swiss' tongue.

"I-..." Swiss looked up at Mountain, his eyes filled with tears. "I am afraid."

Mountain's warm hand returned to Swiss' shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. "What are you afraid of?", the earth ghoul asked carefully.

"That what happened to Aether could happen to me.", he admitted and his voice broke in the middle.

Mountain swallowed his own emotions as he encouraged Swiss to continue speaking.

"Aether was good. Aether was liked by the crowd. And yet-..." A deep breath. "And yet, he was sent back like he was nothing. Like he was just another ghoul working for the clergy. How do I know it will not happen to me? What if one day Papa wakes up and I am not good enough anymore? What if one day, they find some other multi ghoul because they want something 'fresh', something 'new' and 'exciting'?"

The other ghouls stared in silence. Swiss was right. Each of them could be replaced any day. There was no knowing what Sister Imperator or the higher glercy members had planned. There had been no sign that Aether would have to leave. It had happened out of nowhere. Hell, even their Papa could get retired by the clergy any second. It had happened in the past and it would surely happen again, they knew that. It didn't make it any less daunting.

"Swiss, there is nothing you can do.", Mountain started. "What happened to Aether could happen to all of us. I know it's scary but no matter how you act, how you present yourself, how much you try to be perfect, it wouldn't change a thing for them. Aether didn't get sent back because he wasn't good enough. He got sent back because the clergy follows some weird plan that we have no knowledge of. There is a possibility that we all will get sent back at one point, yes. But don't ever think it is because you aren't enough."

Swiss felt a weird mixture of dread and calmness. Mountain was right, they could be next any second but it wouldn't mean that he had failed, had not lived up to expectations. It was unavoidable and there was something calming about that.

He nodded, wiping a tear from his cheek with a deep inhale.

"Until then, we have each other."

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teddyduchampsglasses · 2 years ago

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charlie dalton comforting the reader through a panic attack? <3

Charlie Dalton Comforting The Reader Through A Panic Attack

Paring: Charlie Dalton x gender neutral reader

Movie: Dead Poets Society

Summary: As the title says, this is what it would be like if Charlie Dalton were to comfort you through a panic attack

Warnings: Swearing and mentions of panic attacks

Word count: 1,038

Charlie has learned the ins and outs of your mind, especially your emotions, including when your brain goes into its ultimate panic mode. The first time one of these attacks accrued, Charlie was scared shitless, his brain racing as he stressed about what move to make that wouldn't effect you in a negative way. He did his best to hide his own panicked emotions, but they easily seeped through his whole charade when he would whisper things like "oh God" or "shit" under his breath, or when his hands began to shake and his voice began to quiver. He was trembling almost as much as you were. And his actions only made you feel worse, sadness washing over you when you observed how you affected him in that moment, making you feel like a burden to your boyfriend as he too became anxious and fearful.

But, after a while, once he had been there to experience a few more of these attacks, he quickly learned exactly how to operate and what actions to take to calm your nerves and lighten the mood.

Charlie has never been too good with the whole "expressing your emotions" and "explaining your feelings" ordeal, never knowing what words to use or how to phrase his sentences to perfectly portray his sentiment. He often stutters or stumbles through his sentences when ever he feels the need to express himself, and these quirks only worsen under pressure, often ending in him slapping his palm across his mouth or upon his forehead as a result to his awkwardness. So, due to this fact, he's become skilled at cheering you up in other ways, using tactics that don't involve him speaking all too much.

Taking the situation into account, analyzing just how stressed and anxious you may be, touching and holding you is often not the best option for Charlie, it is a path he quickly learned not to take. Panic attacks are seemingly the only time Charlie can keep his hands off you, any other time he has you in his grasp, always holding your hand, hugging you, playing with your hair, anything, it’s always something, but he would never want to upset you or make your situation any worse, so he tends to keep away from those types of actions when you're in such an emotional state. So, with his lack of communication and no physical affection allowed rule, that only leaves a few more options available for the male.

Compliments, loads of compliments. He isn't always the best at comforting words, not wanting to mess up and say the wrong thing, so he strays away from those types of sayings and instead resorts to flattery. He will compliment your clothes, his favorite physical features of yours, your unique personality, your strengths, and other redeeming qualities. He practically dumps his whole heart to you, which always leaves you somewhat smiling.

He also often chatters about what ever comes to his mind, an attempt to keep your thoughts off the problem at hand. He tries his best to distract you from your overbearing, doubtful, and negative thoughts by talking about stuff that happened during his day or things he spots in the halls. "Today, it was so funny," he'll chuckle to himself "I got to watch as Pitts fell from a chair while trying to hang something in the class. He landed on Todd, practically killing him." This strategy actually works pretty well, his stories often take your mind off your issues and troubles and you even end up laughing along with the male as he tells you a funny memory of his.

But, if you’d prefer to just sit quietly in the hall, or some sort of other safe space, then he wont object. He wants to do what ever makes you feel the most relaxed and comfortable, and if that includes just sitting shoulder to shoulder silently in the desolate halls, he’s always willing to do so. And, if you’d prefer to just be alone for a while, left to your own devices, he totally understands; he’ll even offer to do some of your homework for you while you relax, even if it may not be his strong point, he wants to relieve you from as much stress as he possibly can.

He’ll also gladly accompany you to your dorm just to be able to read out loud while rubbing your back, one of his best and most successful attempts to help you calm down while also soothing you into a deep slumber. He loves massaging your shoulders and neck while reading a passage from a book, being able to respond to any of your beckoning needs if you have any. You want a blanket? He practically jumps from his position upon your bed to retrieve a comforter for you. He’ll gladly remove his sweatshirt, t-shirt, and basically any clothing of his you may even slightly desire. He practically spoils you, obeying all of your needs when ever you are even slightly down.

He always make sure no one comes near you if you're not ready or just generally not in the mood. He practically camps out in front of your bedroom door, politely telling people you need some time alone if they are searching for you, and if they don’t take the hint, continuing to insist that they need you, his protective side will most likely always kick in, his features will go blank before he sternly repeats himself.

And, of course, what he’s known for: Jokes. He always seems to know the exact words to say to make you start giggling. He’ll make funny faces, tickle you, and exclaim cringy puns if thats what it takes to see even a small upon your face. Of course, if you're not in the mood at that moment, he’ll hold off till a more appropriate time, but you better expect to be crying laughing at some point before the end of the day.

(I also wrote just a generalized version of Charlie Dalton Comforting The Reader so if you want to read more about the topic of Charlie dalton comforting you, just click those words and it should bring you right to the post 👍)

#charlie dalton #charlie dalton x reader #dead poets society #dps #80s #the 80s #gale hansen

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silly-inky · 2 years ago

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Luigi is a jack of trades type of guy

He’s a plumber, but is more into the technical side of stuff compared to Mario (by that I mean fixing cars and messing with wires) so he knows how to fix stuff, not because he’s so good at it, but because he’s probably broken the exact same thing before and had to fix it in a panic. He’s clumsy it happens all the time.

Growing up in Brooklyn him and Mario probably used to get into all sorts of stuff, so Luigi probably knows how to pick locks, maybe even Hotwire cars (referencing to previous paragraph) not cause he was a bad kid, more likely his dad lost the keys to his car and had Luigi Hotwire it for him since it would be cheaper to do that then get a new set.

Probs knows how to spray paint too, and he’s not a wise mouth, he knows when to use his words and what to say, I think h would come under with some very creative insults, he’s street smart.

Apparently his granddad is an ex boxer, so he probably taught both of the boys how to defend themselves, and took proper boxing lessons when they where older (14-19 maybe?), again going up in Brooklyn at that time, with him being a target for bullies he would get into fights. So the man definitely knows how to fight.

And let’s ignore the Mario movie and how it portrays Luigi’s abilities (I loved the movie but they did him dirty with how little he showed up) he can jump higher than Mario, knows gymnastics, can even f*cking break dance! And does a lot of running (mostly from enemy’s but still) this is all canon or at one point was. He may be sacred of stuff and look a bit on the scrawny side, but he is definitely physically fit.

He probably knows at least one thing about any given topic, he likes to read, so you could ask him how the mushroom kingdom was established and he could answer in the heart beat, but if you where to ask what Princes Peaches grandfather was (name wise) he wouldn’t have a clue.

He has the magical ability to befriend people, that quite frankly, should not be befriended, or at the very least would be very heard to be friends with, he's just that type of guy, ways willing to talk and a good listener. He isn't so good with animals, I they are small or are naturally trusting then he's fine, but for the most part, his anxiety rubs off on them. The only big animal that properly likes Luigi is Daisy's Yoshi, who's known him since being a hatchling

Also I think Luigi is a medium, so he can see and feel and hear ghosts and other entities, this is probably why he's so good at ghost hunting, he senses them as well as seeing them when they are actually visible to others

He's a smart guy, and Is smart enough to not show how smart he actually is

Thats all I have for now, may make some more soon if in demand, or I feel like it, I really like Luigi okay.. ┐(￣ヮ￣)┌

#super mario #mario bros #luigi nintendo #luigi #luigi super mario #head canon #luigi headcanons #my headcanons

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cosmo-meyer · 7 months ago

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Inside out 2 rating/thoughts. (Spoilers!!!)

I’m going to go on a little rant here. I just watched Inside out 2 and I honestly am super happy with how they handled anxiety. First off the visuals feel like how anxiety feels. The way Anxiety (emotion) moves with uncertainty and how she sometimes twitches makes it so much more believable. Not to mention the way Riley (The main protagonist) handles and goes through these situations. Overall the creators made this so believable. I was getting second hand embarrassment for a lot of the awkward moments. They also have one of the best anxiety attacks I’ve ever seen in a movie. Not just what we see irl but in Riley’s mind it just makes sense that that’s how it works. Especially for little kids it’s a great visual. Not to mention most cartoon or kids movies don’t explicitly have anxiety attacks. Sure every now and then we get a panic attack on screen. But it’s usually only panic, not anxiety. And this just made this movie so much better. The way she created an anxiety storm (I don’t know what to call it) made it so much easier to understand. Especially for younger kids who will see this movie and sort of have an understanding of anxiety and how to handle it. The way how after the attack she feels the bench she feels the air the light. It makes her feel grounded and calm. It really makes you feel and understand that she was not in the moment she was not in control she was not looking at her surroundings she felt like she wasn’t in control. The writers and animators did an amazing job portraying this scene. And while I still think we need more representation for things like this it was a great scene that explains a complex situation and topic in a way everyone can understand. Overall 8/10 movie heavily recommend.

#inside out 2

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immobiliter · 5 days ago

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@avaere from [x]

Itto did indeed look like he'd been blindsided by her question, sat across from her at her small kitchen table with an expression of uncertainty and contemplation that Furina wasn't entirely sure she'd ever seen him wear, not in all these weeks and months of friendship. The hope and curiosity in her own mismatched gaze dwindled at the sight, the light in them dimming as worry and nerves set in. So he didn't think we were more than friends either. What if I misread the whole situation? What if this isn't what he wants? Furina tried not to let her panic show, delicate fingernails picking idly at a groove in the table's surface.

From the open window, the sounds of chatter and patrolling gardemeks and the delicate clinking of china teacups drifted inside on a cool breeze that prompted Furina to tug her dressing gown a little tighter around herself. Little did her once-subjects know, going about their business without a care in all of Teyvat, that their former Archon was in her apartment grappling with that most human of experiences: telling the boy she liked how she felt. Do not panic, Furina. Even if he sees you just as a friend, isn't that enough? Hasn't his friendship brought you more joy and solace than you knew it was possible for a heart like yours to feel?

But then Itto rose from his chair and rounded the table towards her, and that calming inner voice of reason might as well have vanished out of that same, open window, never to be seen again. Furina watched him kneel in front of her chair — presumably so that he wouldn't tower over her — and she shifted to face him. The somewhat unruly mane of white hair, the crimson red horns and markings on his face and torso, the boisterousness... she could understand why it was a combination that might unintentionally frighten others, or push them away. But Lady Furina, who had stared down the Hydro Elemental Sovereign in the role of his usurper and watched as he empathised with, and then saved humanity, whose divine half had plotted to defy Celestia itself was not someone easily afraid, not when it mattered — and besides, what was there to be afraid of when he said her name with such gentleness ( not Miss Boss, which he would say with excitement or impatience or outrage depending on the day, but Furina. she liked the way her name sounded in his mouth ), or when his hand reached up to touch her cheek with such care and reverence, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

He would not hurt her. He would not hurt a fly, or one of those onikabuto beetles that he'd promised he'd show her in Inazuma one day.

“There’s not a thing in the entirety of Inazuma, Fontaine or even Teyvat I wouldn’t do to make sure you smile.”

The words seemed to open up some valve deep within her heart, letting a torrent of emotion pour out and flood into her chest. Furina let out a sound that was halfway between an exclamation of relief and a sob, tears welling up in her eyes as his fingertips brushed past her ear. But they were not sad tears, not at all, not as Itto offered her a toothy grin and her own smile grew to match it.

The oni continued — and there it was, the enthusiasm, the warmth, the energy that she had grown so fond of over recent months, though this time with an underlying nervousness to it. “ I did like it. I loved it. ” She reached out to reassure him in his ramblings, fingers landing on his wrist and the spiky bracelet he wore around it. Only then did his own fingers close around her hand and, once again with such careful tenderness, lifted it to press a featherlight kiss to her knuckles.

Oh. Oh, wasn't this the sort of thing she had read about in those novels she was frequently chastised by the Melusines for reading late into the night?

Wasn't this how it was supposed to feel — not the echo of emotion she had summoned from somewhere inside of her tormented, splintered soul to portray this sort of romance on stage or on screen?

I don't care that you lied. I don't care who you are. Furina listened, and Itto's words did more to reassure her than the lone, brave voice in her head ever could.

Not all of it made sense — what did the word rizz mean? she hadn't heard that one before — but...

“ Yeah? ” She felt almost giddy. With relief. With joy. What it was for a five hundred year old human to experience those first, tentative buds of blossoming romance for the first time in her life. Furina was somewhat surprised, too, that Itto didn't have much experience of such things either, particularly given his own endearing brand of charm. But then she recalled the story he'd told her as she'd fallen asleep in his arms that one night, about the red oni and the blue oni...

Do you know the feeling where... you're in a room full of people, they've invited you and... halfway through the party you realise that... they only ever invited you as a joke?

The realisation was a shard digging painfully into her chest. Letting go of his hand, she reached up to touch his cheek, purposefully mirroring his own gesture. “ In that case, we can figure it out together. We can — we can go on dates that are actually dates, and you can hold my hand, and — I really liked it when we cuddled on my sofa that time — ”

So many things, so many new experiences... it was exciting and thrilling and a little nerve-wracking all at once.

But first, as Furina sternly reminded herself: a promise, and a story.

“ I know you said that it doesn't matter to you who I was and what I've been lying about, but I still want to tell you. ” As her fingers lowered from his cheek, they sought out his own again. She liked how her hand felt in his. Furina exhaled softly. “ I've been trapped by the truth for so long that I have to confront it if I ever want to move on. ” And how she longed to move on more than anything. This was as much for him as it was for herself, the start of a painful, no doubt lifelong process of shedding a guise that had tormented and isolated her in equal measure. “ But you can ask questions and I'll do my best to explain. It doesn't matter to me if you don't understand everything, Itto — Fontaine is complicated. In having to bury the truth about myself I turned my whole nation into one of... secrets and misdirection. ”

And those secrets persisted. Even now, weren't she and Neuvillette still concealing the true machinations behind the thwarting of Fontaine's prophecy? Didn't she still have to pretend to follow the Palais' official line of events: namely, that she had willingly given up her divine power to the Oratrice and become human in order to save her people?

Furina smiled at him, warm but sad. “ Sit. I'll make us some more tea, and then I'll tell you everything. ”

#avaere #avaere: arataki itto #* / dyn. furina & itto ( avaere. )#HERE IT IS AVEN #THE SHIP IS SLOWLY PULLING OUT OF THE DOCK #they're just so WHOLESOME i don't know if i'll ever be over it #she wants to cuddle!! she wants to hold hands!! she wants to be silly and have fun together!!#and there are so many other things they'll get to do as their relationship develops and i am here for it all #but at the heart of it is a fundamental desire for companionship and understanding

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