#implied dissociation

[rauhallinen-hauki]

the wrong man in the right place, and the me that is and isn't there

something weird with the main idea being "Alyx meets Adrian in the inter-dimensional void thru vortessence after being fatally wounded by a hunter in ep 2"

[thedivinemechanism]

Mr science man how have you been

I couldn't say I'm doing well. To say "I'm doing bad" would probably describe my experience the best, but I can't bring myself to care enough to label it as such.

A small portion of me is very glad I'm still here. Another is rather discouraged. But neither one has any real voice at the moment.

I'm sorry I couldn't give you a positive response.

[kaddyssammlung]

Heartstopper (Netflix Season 3)

[aventurineswife]

idk if this one is a little too dark or anything

but as a req i liked the idea of a dissociating!reader x aven, who always tries to be there for when it happens. 🤍

i hope in some capacity this made sense 😓 (and i might be calling myself out a bit here oop-)

on an end note-i hope ur doing well and remembering to take care of urselfff!! 💕

I'm With You

Summary: When you experience dissociation, Aventurine stays by your side, offering quiet comfort and patience. Through his gentle presence and soft words, he grounds you, bringing you back to reality and reminding you that you’re never alone in the struggle.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Dissociation, Fluff, Established Relationship, Gentle Aventurine, Emotional Support, Reassurance, Intimacy.

Warnings: Themes of dissociation, implied mental health struggles.

A/N: It's completely fine, anon! It's not dark at all! And don't worry about it, I enjoy a bit of challenges (not really lmaoo). Remember to take care of yourself too!!

The cool, dim evening has settled, casting long shadows over the room as Aventurine sits beside you, his arm resting gently on your shoulder. You’re barely aware of the world around you—an unexplainable heaviness has clouded your thoughts, and the sense of reality feels like it’s slipping away, leaving only a distant, hollow feeling. You’ve been here before, in this numb, detached place. And though you can barely hear or feel it, Aventurine’s presence grounds you, his hand warm and reassuring, like an anchor in a storm.

“Hey,” he says softly, his voice low and calm, like a thread trying to pull you back. You don’t immediately respond, but his words have a way of finding their way through the fog. “You don’t have to say anything. Just let me be here, alright?”

Aventurine’s presence is steady, warm, filled with patience. He sits beside you without demanding your attention, offering quiet comfort, his fingers lightly stroking your shoulder. Slowly, he reaches over and takes your hand, wrapping it in his. He knows how the dissociation pulls you away from the present, away from him, and yet he never resents it. Instead, he finds ways to help, little reminders that you’re here, that he’s here, that you’re not alone in this strange, untouchable place.

“You know,” he starts, a small smile gracing his lips, “I saw this mooncake the other day that had a little cat face on it. It looked so…well, I thought it was too cute to eat. I even took a selfie with it.” He chuckles softly, and the gentle sound of his laugh breaks through your haze, if only a little. “Imagine that, me, a mooncake, and a cat face. Pretty ridiculous, right?”

You blink, and the faintest hint of a smile plays on your lips. Aventurine notices, and he gives your hand a small, comforting squeeze.

“There you are,” he murmurs, his eyes full of warmth and relief. “You don’t have to come all the way back to me yet. I’ll meet you wherever you are.”

It’s strange, having someone who understands like this, who doesn’t push, who knows how to reach into the quiet, lonely parts of you and make you feel seen, even when you’re fading from yourself. Aventurine is still holding your hand, tracing circles over your knuckles. His touch, his presence—it’s grounding, a small reminder that you’re tethered to something, to someone who cares for you deeply.

After a moment, he speaks again, his voice still low and soothing. “You’re so much stronger than you realize, you know that? But you don’t have to be strong all the time. You have me.” His words wrap around you like a warm blanket, softening the edges of your dissociation. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Bit by bit, the room starts to feel more tangible. You’re aware of his arm around your shoulder, the light pressure of his hand in yours, his steady breathing. You turn slightly to look at him, his familiar, comforting smile waiting for you.

“Thank you.” you whisper, your voice barely audible, but Aventurine hears it. His smile widens, and he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Always,” he replies, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “For as long as you need, I’ll be right here.”

You settle back into his embrace, feeling the weight of his arm, the warmth of his presence filling the spaces that felt empty only moments ago. And for the first time in a while, you feel safe, at peace in the comfort of his love, knowing he’ll be there, no matter how far you feel from yourself.

[clearlyjonah]

I seriously need endos to fuck the hell off, what i go through daily isn't fun quirky little game you can decide to play, it is a fucking trauma response and i actually have to waste tons of my energy not to cause any more unreversible damage to the other alters. Having other people in your head isn't fucking funny, they're not just "friends you can have inside jokes with". It's tiring. It's debilitating. It's not knowing what will happen when you're not in front. Is having the others getting potentially exposed to danger and being unable to do anything to protect yourself and/or the body. It's others hating you for doing exactly what you were formed to do. The shame, the guilt, the self hate you constantly have to carry around that came after years and years of terrible trauma. It can sometimes be fun but the main point is it's a fucking disorder. I can't stand you guys fucking de-medicalising it so that you can enjoy a fake ass romanticised version of it. I hope my traumas hit you all at once. I hope you split a pre self-consciousness me. I wish all the worst to y'all

[katamarv1]

Headspace convo + a doodle of Micheal our friend did

[vaultedvagabond]

I wonder if its because shes an atheist and he killed god but if I am correct Wit/Jasnah is the most explicit confirmation of main character premarital sex Brandon has written

[raisans-art]

Brothers starter is so messed up because even in the scenerio that Emmet gets to be human again, hes not been human for at least a decade. Can he even go back to living like that? Hes legally dead, he never finished school or made human connections outside of Ingo and even then the connection between a pokemon and human is far different from two humans. He doesnt really have a reason to try being human again apart from giving ingo back his twin, not even a reason for himself.

You can never go home again.

[therian-and-nonhuman-polls]

Therians, what level of differentiation/dissociation (not sure if it's the right word, please correct me if I'm wrong) with your theriotype do you have? Meaning that your "cat self", for example, is more playful, or energetic than your "regular self".

I see this much more often within therian community than within otherkin, so I'm interested. Also feel free to rephrase the question if my wording is off.

- 0% (I am my theriotype fully and thoroughly, no differentiation)

- 0%—25%

- 25%—50%

- 50%—75%

- 75%—100% (there is a "human me" and an "animal me")

- not a therian

[m3lting0ffth3b0nez]

i doesn't matter how clearly i speak or try to convey my thoughts and emotions it just never clicks with anyone else. i swear to fucking god im gonna have to spend the rest of my life frantically trying to explain my thought process to everyone around me

[ani-and-the-corries-au]

Hey people, this post is a little different than my usual ones.

I kinda wanted to post something on the 4th/5th but time got away from me.

I have a lot of snippets and segments of ideas from stories in this au that I wrote up.

This is... Sort of the extended segment of my little "Fox and Anakin's first meeting" snippet.

There will probably be more to follow this but for now, I hope you enjoy this little chunk of story.

Autumn

••••••

"We put republic resources into your upkeep, and the bare minimum we expect in return is that you do the jobs that you were made for." The Senate guard fumed.

Anakin pushed himself back into the corner behind the trio of Clones who had all moved in front of him. The familiar mantra of 'I'm not here, there's nothing to see.' ran through his head even as he watched the exchange.

"The Chancellor has decided to cut a third of your funding until he believes that the guard has earned it back CC-1010." The man snapped.

"We need that funding to get supplies for the Men Sir." The clone said, and it almost seemed pleading even through the vocoder. And Anakin felt the surge of concern from the unfamiliar Clone Commander. 

"We're already struggling to get enough supplies after the last cut."

The other Man only snorted derisively. But Anakin was more interested by the surprise blooming in the force from the troopers around him in response to the Commander’s words.

"Perhaps you should put in more work into being worth your upkeep then." He said shortly.

And that didn't seem fair. It seemed to Anakin like the Corries did plenty of work, honestly he thought that maybe the Senators and other guards should be a little more grateful to them.

"Also, you will gather together every useless Clone that failed to stop the attack and bring them to us for proper disciplinary action.” The guard commander sneered, expression so much like that of an especially smug Master that Anakin couldn't help but lean away.

"If it were up to me I'd have them all sent for reconditioning, but unfortunately it's not.". He seemed to be enjoying this interaction a little too much.

Anakin wasn't sure what reconditioning was, but the fear that had soaked the force around them at the words spoke for itself. Anakin wasn't sure what proper disciplinary action entailed either. But the overly pleased look on the other guards face and the fear in the air brought to mind images of Electro whips and beatings, water and food restrictions, abandoning people to the freezing nights or biting sandstorms for even minor provocations.

He quickly pushed those thoughts away, this was Coruscant, not the slave yards. Things worked differently here. It was fine. Even if the words felt suspiciously like a lie even in his own head.

"Don't Talk back to me, Clone." The man snarled, snapping Anakin out of his thoughts.

He must have missed part of the conversation but he came back in time to see the man grabbing hold of the front of the commander's armor. "You do what the republic tells you, you got that? we say send half the guard to the Lower levels, you send the guard." He leaned in closer, expression angry. 

"We tell you to send your useless men back to Kamino to be Reconditioned, you send those men."

He reached in and ripped off the Clone commander's helmet. Anakin couldn't help but notice that the Clone Commander hadn't moved a muscle since the other man had grabbed his armor, he was frozen staring straight forward, short curly hair tumbling into blank eyes as the helmet came off and hit the ground with force.

"You do, as we say." The man snarled, leaning in again. "We could order you to execute your own soldiers and you'd have no choice but to obey." 

He reached up and grabbed the silent man's face. "We own you, Every pound of duplicated flesh that comes from Kamino is ours, and we will do what we wish with it, do you understand?"

"Yes Sir."

In the back of his head Anakin had the feeling that he shouldn't be here, that he was seeing something that an outsider shouldn't see. But the thoughts were dulled by the Man's words echoing in his head. 

'We own you.' He didn't want to think about it, didn't want to look at the picture that was slowly coming together in his head.

The guards almost never spoke unless addressed. They were entirely ignored unless someone needed them or took some kind of issue with them. The entire Senate seemed to treat the guard, the clones as lesser than them. He thought back to the interaction he and Padme had crashed, how the two aids had been talking about them. He'd thought that there was something wrong with how the guards were treated in the Senate, but did it go deeper than that.

'we own you.' 

Slavery was illegal in the republic, they had rules against it, Qui-Gon had told him so. 

Maybe the man meant something else, but Anakin was having trouble seeing what else 'we own you' could mean.

Anakin pressed himself further against the wall, he didn't hear whatever else the Man said over the screaming in his ears, he couldn't tell if it was his own thoughts or the force pressing in around him. He wanted to be wrong, he had to be, he couldn't. It couldn't.

"..Ad..? Are you ok..?" A hand brushed his shoulder and he started, looking up into the helmeted face of one of the Clones.

From further away he heard snippets of voices.

"Wait, what do you mean he heard everything?"

"Fox, he's just a kid, he's not going to do anything."

He tried to peer around 'Twelve-Sixteen' to see what was going on, he could still feel distressed in the air, but it had a desolate edge to it now.

'Twelve-Sixteen' Knelt down in front of him.

"Hey, it's ok Ad'ika. Don't worry about any of that ok?"

He was trying to sound cheery, but Anakin could feel the nerves underneath the false cheer. He opened his mouth to say something, but instead of agreement or a confirmation of understanding, the words that spilled out were the ones echoing around his head.

"..They own you..?"

The words came out far louder than he'd ment them, and suddenly all four clones were looking at him. The Commander, who had put his helmet back on, sighed Audibly.

"The Coruscant guard and Grand Army of the republic are both republic property." The man said he sounded tired, like he didn't want to have this conversation.

"But… they, they can't." Anakin stammered, pushing to his feet. "You're People." 

The clone who'd been talking to the commander shook his head. "Maybe to you Ad'ika, but not to most Nat borns."

"They bought us off of the Kaminoans." 'Twelve-Sixteen' told him, shrugging. "If they hadn't brought us, we wouldn't exist."

That did not make Anakin feel better, in fact somehow that was worse. 

"But… they're not - this isn't the outer rim." Anakin stammered. The one thing in the way of his discovery was the fact that Qui-gon had said that Slavery wasn't legal in the Republic, but… that had been ten years ago… had that changed?

The guard commander sighed, if Anakin focused he could feel the storm of emotions around him.

"No, it's not, Welcome to Coruscant." He said flatly. 

"Now, you really shouldn't be here, go back to your Jedi." 

The Commander turned and stormed off, but he didn't seem angry, just tired, so so Tired.

Anakin felt frozen, even as his mind was spinning with thoughts, unfamiliar pieces clipping together into a picture that was all too familiar even as the setting was the furthest thing from.

"Ad'ika…?"

"I.." Anakin stepped away, his hands balling into fists. "...I… They…"

The words weren't coming, but he could feel the worry and resigned acceptance suffusing the air around them.

When he eventually did find words, they weren't addressing the fact that his new friends weren't what he'd thought, maybe weren't even Free like he'd thought.

"...I… can you… I need to talk to Padme… do.. Do you know where I can find her…?"

[hoglinz]

exile selfie ! !

[elysiae]

ON-LYNE headcanons based on concept art, songs, and the miniscule info we have on them with a little bit of self projecting and mental illness mixed in

because im techrotted brainrotting over the boys and i love them dearly and im so excited for the technocyte codas i cant take it i need to yell about them (also partially inspired by this post! go check it out its so cool, i love the theories and based a lot of the personality traits off it)

also quick note that we're going under several assumptions here: Gregory V is and has been a shit manager for a while, they know they're being replaced, they live together and are hiding in some corner of Hollvania that's uninfected, and most importantly of all that they're alive and (barely) kicking

(concept art was snatched from the warframe fandom wiki, technocyte coda page)

~5-7min read, long ass text wall warning

ZEKE

he's giving he/they bisexual

definitely has a history of dealing with peer pressure. "never set the trend, follow your own" he is sooo against that go with the crowd shit... which is really funny when you take the infestation into account

chronic depression that's been stuck with him for a while now, but it's spiraled beyond anything he can reasonably manage ("Zeke hungers to unmake himself" can be taken a plethora of ways)

wants to get an eyebrow piercing but Gregory never let him "for his image" (still soooo fucking salty about that)

^ speaking of, he's so salty actually. not to a point of being petty exactly and it's 90% directed at Gregory because he's just so sick of the guy but WOOH can he throw shade

anyway he's giving grunge fashion enjoyer

i know this is semi canon but im leaning into it HE IS 1000% AN AVID FASHIONISTA. and he has some STRONG OPINIONS on fashion trends

if he's not bedrotting, he's trying on different outfit combos. always getting the boy's opinions on them

they don't hire anybody to do their outfits for their shows because Zeke is always on it. he knows everybody's style, what they're comfortable in, and what looks good on them like the back of his hand he frankly doesn't trust anybody else cuz they always fuck it up (see "Zeke has some STRONG OPINIONS on fashion trends")

Zeke SWOONS for Drillbit's fashion sense. when they first met, that was what grabbed his attention: he's so unapologetically himself and the expression through fashion hooked him. (take it platonically or romantically idc)

he loved loved loved being famous at first, but with everything going on he's losing that spark. and it terrifies him because this was his dream for so long

his actual problem (shit manager aside) is that he can't deal with the pressure of being the face of the band. like yeah, everybody plays their part, but he's the leader. if he wasn't the one fully in the limelight, he'd be better off, but he doesn't realise that yet <3

and he desperately needs a break

he's gonna snap soon and it isn't gonna be pretty

whether that ends up in somebody dead, himself dead, him in a mental hospital, or something less extreme, that's a future problem for a future Zeke

DRILLBIT

PUNK KING

there's a running joke he has psychic powers. it's like he just reads everybody's mind. he just KNOWS??? it creeps the other boys out sometimes

would be an awesome therapist

studied psychology in university for 2 years before dropping out because he didn't have the time needed to really dedicate to it

(plus i mean, he's already living the life as a singer, no point in getting a degree he might never use)

had really bad scoliosis as a kid, uses a brace to try fixing it

^ his posture is awful

^ ^ he hates chairs, especially ones without cushions/padding. most uncomfortable shit ever

^ ^ ^ unfortunately Gregory never fuckin listens to him so he has to suffer almost every event

shorter than Harddrive (6'1) & Zeke (5'11), but wears platforms so he looks like he's the tallest

DJ is always stealing his spiked bracelets. it used to annoy him but he gave up after figuring out they'd always magically reappear on his dresser a couple days later tops.

he's always going after Packet for his posture. "buddy you don't want to end up like me, trust"

definitely an astrology fan. not like full on believing in it, he's not an astrology girlie, but he finds it cool. has tarot card sets

i feel like he'd be interested in witchcraft too, but it's something he keeps very, very close to his chest. not even the boys know

deliberately pushes his luck with Gregory. as the 'token alt' he gets away with more, and he's trying to see how far he can go with it before Gregory shuts him down. it started after the whole Zeke eyebrow piercing shitshow.

listen, Zeke is his best friend and he's happy for him, but man, does he want to be in the spotlight. i mean, face of the band, the 'leader'. if Zeke were to step down or something happened, Drillbit would snatch the opportunity SO fast.

he knows Zeke's problems better than Zeke himself does lol, he's been trying to subtly convey that for months now. Zeke isn't the only one, though

Drillbit always had this sixth sense when it came to everybody else's feelings, he always felt them stronger than his own like the shore of the peaceful beach swept over with a tsunami.

sometimes it makes him physically ill.

empathy. but it's something more than that

right now, emotions are high, overwhelming, suffocating from all corners and he's drowning in the tides.

HARDDRIVE

this might be a little heavier sorry in advance

contrary to the implications of "he really knows how to treat a girl and make her feel like she’s the only one in the world!", he has actually never had a girlfriend last more than 3 weeks

not because of anything he's doing. he just has a knack for getting really shit partners

he's gay, but extremely in denial for the LONGEST time and trying to come to terms with it

so emotionally intelligent? if you're going to have a late night deep talks, it's going to be with him. guaranteed. he thinks a lot about things

maybe a little overprotective of the boys? just a smidge.

he's a cuddly teddybear yes, but he could still 100% kick your ass if deserved (but would feel guilty for weeks)

used to have stagefright. Zeke and Drillbit helped him come out of his shell in that regard, but he still does freeze up sometimes when he remembers he's on stage. in front of millions of eyes.

cottagecore energy. enough said.

shares rings with Drillbit all the time (insert marriage joke here)

he can carry all of the members around easy peasy and has done it to all of them at least once on camera. there's sooo many memes about it all over the internet

never escaping the perfect husband material allegations (truth)

he doesn't really mind the fame... but he's also not entirely sure about it. he preferred being a smaller band, when he didn't have to hide his face and deal with fans every time he went out.

part of him wants to leave, but he's torn between his loyalty to on-lyne, more specifically his friends and memories in it, and freedom. but with being such a well known figure, he knows it isn't that simple.

there is no freedom. he hit the scene, there's no turning back.

he'll always be Harddrive, wherever he goes.

PACKET

aroacespec. demiaroace maybe. havent quite decided

not gonna lie i do not have many ideas for him, but that is the most demiboy to ever demiboy. i mean come on, PACKET as a stage name?

im sorry the name Packet had to come from an inside joke or something

has had like 50 different hair colors over the course of his life. this is his natural hair color though because he needs to give his poor hair a break (SAME BUDDY)

inattentive ADHD. nothing else to add there

UNGODLY SLEEP SCHEDULE. stays up to stupid o' clock gaming. you need to talk at 3:08am? he's awake!

might be biased from this post but he's giving "cute unsuspecting guy knows a lot of really concerning things" (how to hide a body, all kinds of manipulation tactics, how to kill a person in various ways, how fast bodies decay, must i go on)

^ hes a writer. he writes fanfics and posts them under another name, i dont make the rules

you'll hear him cackling at 2:47AM and i can almost guarantee it's because he's laughing at terrible reader x on-lyne fanfics

sorry but my king here looks like his mom dressed him and i think Quincy would have a heart attack if he saw him. Zeke sure did when they first met (Zeke is singlehandedly carrying his fashion on live performances)

(OK THIS WAS A LITTLE MEAN BUT THERES WAYS I WOULD PERSONALLY DEFINITELY FIX IT)

Zeke probably gave him a whole ass makeover. took one look at him and was like hell No you need to learn how to style your outfits or i will die (exaggerated but as a fashion enjoyer i feel u Zeke)

he's 70% of the reason Zeke doesn't trust anybody else to do their outfits because of how awful his sensory issues are. everybody else fucks it up and he can never make the full show without a meltdown

people seem to think he's a lot younger than he is and it drives him fucking crazy because nobody listens to him (the boys do though <3).

there used to be a serious infantilizing problem in the fanbase but on lyne managed to nip it in the bud for the most part.

he has dissociating problems, running on autopilot sooo much. forgets he's a person. so easily lost in conversations. you know how it is!

listen this might just be my love for horror, inspo from this post again and (probably 80% of it) an au i've been writing recently... but he's giving uncanny valley. unintentionally freaks people out.

like he has problems. everybody has their problems but there might actually be something Severely Wrong with his mental, but whatever the hell it is, nobody really knows??

he's still an awesome guy; smart, friendly, incredible mediator, there's zero doubt in anyone's mind he loves the boys

but its not just what he knows and has researched that's strange.

it's the way he switches up so fast when somebody walks up to him. the wildly different traits he shows for different people. the way common morals dont seem to be something natural to him, but he makes an effort to look like it is even with a lack of passion. it's the fact that despite being a mediator and being so 'empathetic' with the boys, he's very... emotionally cold in other departments. his behavior like a lightswitch, two completely wildly different modes

with everything going on, i don't think they ever will really know what's up with him. just gotta hope it doesn't get worse, whatever it is, and that he's okay

"don't hate the hacker, hate the code", amiright

(as a small a/n i have actually not decided what is up with him. because in the au i wrote---and what led me to get attached to these boys---hes a fanatic cult follower who's barely clinging to the ropes of sanity because shit just got that bad. will be doing research so i dont stereotype whatever i end up attributing to him :thumbsup:)

DJ RoM

first of all.

🏳️‍⚧️ . i know what you are DJ. they/he user spotted

does not gaf about Gregory's whole "hide all this stuff about yourself for your image" shtick, they're always making trans jokes

i know their fan site page says he's "soft spoken and quiet" but i look at them and can't help but think they'd say the most unhinged things.

and you think he's bad on camera? they're worse off camera <3 Zeke may be the one flirting with everybody but this guy? THIS GUY is a different level if you know what i mean

naturally blond but started getting grey hair from stress and just ran with it. eh they stand out more who cares

definitely has busted hearing

they have tinnitus. it drives them crazy. usually they just tune it out, but there's times where it seriously gets under their skin and you can TELL

very sound sensitive. misophonia moment

out of everybody they NEED to have a good 10 hours of sleep or they will NOT be able to function. (unfortunately i imagine considering the circumstances, he probably hasn't had enough sleep in a good few months at least)

he has so many different kinds of sunglasses. the regular ones in their art, but also heart shaped, star shaped, probably more fun shapes too

horror enjoyer, especially analogue/psychological. stuff that messes with your head.

super fast learner, especially musically

probably multilingual but as for what languages they know i'm not sure lmao

you know all that advice that's like "when somebodys making fun of you take it really well and laugh with them, and the bully will move on because youre not a fun target"? yeah this guy. living proof it works (for the record i dont actually know if it works, he just has this vibe)

i have a feeling he's gone through some really traumatic things. like, before the techrot takeover and maybe even before meeting the boys

he's seen shit and at this point it's really, really hard to make him flinch.

but theyre so chill about it that youd literally never guess

Drillbit's been trying to get them to open up and talk for years now it feels like, because he's not just seeing a mental decline, he's seeing a physical one. they all are seeing it

and it scares them

... i think thats my longest post yet lmao. anyway they're hot and they better not die in an upcoming update and we better be able to KIM message them or i'll wail. my favorite band of introverts that look like extroverts and accidentally got famous and dont know wtf to do with themselves because theyre BEYOND 6 feet deep in this shit now

k peace im going to bed... feel free to throw out thoughts on these guys bc i need more content of them (and i need more harddrive headcanons)

[howlsofbloodhounds]

This shit made me cry 😭. A few lines made me think of Killer, particularly Stage 1.

“He feels like a stranger. A pretender in someone else’s clothes.” For Stage 1 it could literally mean clothes, he’d never dress himself in this way or manner. For Stage 2, itd be the body itself; as if he slipped on Sans’ face and started pretending to be him. Or as if he was shoved into this body and it fought him the entire way.

“I don’t know who I am..I have lived lives I do not remember.”

Stage 2, detached from most experiences that shaped him as he is now and unable to comprehend himself as having once been Sans, the life he lives now so different that it cannot be true. He must be something else entirely. Unable to tell If he’s real or not, if he’s human or monster or neither or both. All the roles he had to play for survival or others entertainment and convenience.

Stage 1 feeling connected to his life and identity as Sans, but thanks to all the Resets and all the something news, uncertainty if it’s truly real or just a dream he dreamt up one day to convince himself that he was loved and whole once. That he was happy once. Unsure if he is Sans or not, wanting to be. Doesn’t feel like he deserves to be.

“Kill me. Don’t make me do it again. You understand, don’t you? What it’s like to no longer belong to yourself?” The way Stage 1 asked both Swap and Color to kill him before.

[bloody-bee-tea]

Beetober 2024 Day 4 - It's just me

This follows after No more soup and You're not a pet and I suggest reading those first.

Shouta is marking the papers in front of him, distantly aware of the show Hizashi is watching in the living-room but not really paying attention to it. It’s a nice background noise that washes over him with familiarity.

It isn’t until he hears the almost silent pitter patter of Hitoshi’s steps in the hallway that Shouta pays a little bit more attention to his surroundings.

He hates how silent Hitoshi is, hates to think why a ten-year-old knows how to hide his steps better than any aspiring pro hero Shouta trains but before the thoughts can consume his mind–again–he forces himself back into the present.

Hitoshi briefly stops in the doorway to the kitchen and Shouta can practically feel his gaze on him before he goes on, clearly aiming for the living-room. Shouta slightly turns his head, just enough to be able to spot the back of Hitoshi’s head and he sees how he hesitantly stops at the entrance to the living-room.

He watches the kid bounce on the balls of his feet before he seems to make a decision and step fully into the room.

It’s progress, Shouta knows that, no matter how hesitant Hitoshi appears to be. When they first took him home he wouldn’t leave his room for anything, and then only when they asked him to but recently he’s coming out of it more often and always of his own volition and it makes something warm and proud swirl in Shouta’s chest to see him finally start to accept that maybe he’s safe here.

“Hey, kiddo,” Hizashi greets Hitoshi as soon as he sees him, much more quiet than Shouta is used to, and this too has been a work in progress.

Hitoshi is skittish, loud noises and voices enough to send him running, just like fast and sharp movements are, and while Hizashi struggles with being quiet, Shouta struggles with making his presence known more.

It’s an adjustment period for all three of them and Shouta does not care to think about how often he or Hizashi have scared the kid inadvertently.

But it’s clear that at least they haven’t done any lasting damage, not if Hitoshi’s ventures out of his room are anything to go by and with that thought he focuses back on the papers in front of him.

Hitoshi very deliberately made his way to the living-room, so he either wants to be distracted or be with Hizashi and Shouta is not going to budge in on that.

“What’s up?” Hizashi asks next when Hitoshi stays quiet and of course Shouta can’t keep his attention on the grading he has to do.

It has been a struggle to get Hitoshi to speak once he revealed his secret to them and so it’s always a delight to hear the boy’s voice in the apartment. 

“I wanted to–” Hitoshi cuts himself off, prompting Shouta to make a face at nothing, as he has to remind himself that it’s a work in progress.

Always a work in progress. One day Hitoshi will feel confident in stating what he wants, he simply has to believe that.

“You said your quirk is dangerous,” Hitoshi goes on, clearly aiming for a different approach to this and Shouta frowns.

It takes him a moment to remember that Hizashi mentioned that when Hitoshi practically begged them to give him back, as if they only thought of him as an animal to kick out once they grew tired of him and that memory still makes Shouta want to tear his hair out.

“I did,” Hizashi softly agrees and when Shouta glances over again he sees Hitoshi’s mob of purple hair nod but when nothing else follows Shouta frowns.

“You’re allowed to ask questions, Hitoshi,” Hizashi reminds him, completely unnecessary, since Hitoshi doesn’t even need that to activate his quirk but habits that have been beaten into you are hard to break, Shouta knows that.

“Can you tell me about it? About how it was growing up with that?” Hitoshi finally asks and Shouta doesn’t need to see Hizashi to know that he freezes right up.

So much for grading then, Shouta thinks with a sigh as he gets up, scooping up Egg as he goes to join Hizashi on the couch.

Hitoshi’s wary glance follows his every step and the kid seems close to bolting even though Shouta gives him a wide berth as he walks around the couch.

“I can do that, kiddo,” Hizashi finally softly says as Shouta deposits Egg into Hizashi’s lap, and even though nothing has even happened yet, Hizashi buries his fingers in the soft fur of the way too docile cat.

They had kind of expected this; they knew that ever since Hizashi had mentioned it, it would only be a matter of time before Hitoshi came asking more about this. That still doesn’t mean that this would be easy on Hizashi, though of course there had never been any doubt that he’d tell Hitoshi as much as he can should he find the courage to ask.

Hitoshi doesn’t seem convinced at all, his eyes darting between Hizashi and Shouta, who tries to give him a reassuring smile. The disbelief is still clear on Hitoshi’s face but before Shouta can say something Hizashi goes on.

“Shou is here because this is not easy for me to talk about and sometimes I go somewhere in my head when I do. Shou is really good at getting me back out of it, so he’ll just sit here in case that happens, alright?”

“Like when I have a panic attack,” Hitoshi states, and Shouta bites back the reminder that he is allowed to ask questions.

If they push too hard Hitoshi is likely to clam up on them and that’s the last thing they want.

“Not quite,” Shouta corrects. “Hizashi goes very quiet and very still and his eyes go vacant. I think it looks a little as if he’s under your quirk, actually, but he won’t be. It’s just something his own mind is doing to him.”

“And you can’t find your own way back,” Hitoshi mutters, barely audible and Hizashi nods. 

“Yeah, I get all lost in here,” he says as he taps his temple. “I do eventually find my way back but it takes a long while and it leaves me all panicky when I come back on my own. It’s quicker and easier when Shou is there to help.”

“And the cat,” Hitoshi adds, staring at Egg who is still currently curled up in Hizashi’s lap.

“And Egg, yes. It helps sometimes to touch something that is grounding.”

Hitoshi is quiet for a moment, clearly thinking things over and Hizashi and Shouta share a look as they let him ponder over this.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Hitoshi finally says, straightening his shoulders, clearly determined to take it all back, but Shouta knows Hizashi too well to even think for a second that he’ll agree to this.

The kid asked a question and Hizashi will do his best to answer him.

“It’s fine, kiddo. It might not even happen,” Hizashi softly says and Shouta tries to hide his frown as best as he can.

It happens more often than not, whenever Hizashi remembers something from his childhood and he’s already been on edge for a while with everything that’s been going on with Hitoshi.

Hell, he found the kid with a muzzle on and then proceeded to have a very long panic attack once the kid was taken care of, so Shouta is really not too optimistic about this.

But it’s Hizashi’s decision, and he clearly has his mind already made up, so all Shouta can do is be there for him and try his best to guide him back home when he inadvertently loses himself.

“And even if it does, we’re right here, aren’t we?” Shouta asks as well, catching Hitoshi’s gaze, to let him know that he’s included in this.

He’ll probably help Hizashi come back better than Shouta ever could, if he’s being honest, even though Hizashi almost seems outraged that he should enlist Hitoshi’s help in this.

Shouta ignores it as best as he can and instead prompts Hizashi to finally speak because the kid asked a question and Hizashi decided to dig his own grave, so they better get on with it.

“What–what do you want to know?” Hizashi asks and Shouta graciously doesn’t comment on his obvious nerves, because for now his role is to be a silent observer.

Maybe they all get lucky today and that is all he has to be for this conversation.

“Your childhood,” Hitoshi hesitantly starts. “I was just wondering, what it was like for you and if you can–” his voice drifts off and Shouta watches the kid wring his hands in his lap, desperate to reach out and pull him into a hug, but he keeps to his side.

He’s just here as an observer. This is Hizashi’s moment.

“If I can relate to what happened to you?” Hizashi carefully asks and Hitoshi nods, his purple hair fluffing around. “I can, kiddo,” Hizashi tells him with a sad smile and reaches out to take one of Hitoshi’s hands in his.

“I was born with my quirk, so you can imagine the amount of control I had when I was just born. I deafened my birth parents and the staff present and was then promptly abandoned. They, uh,” Hizashi swallows heavily and Shouta reaches out for his other hand.

This is already not looking good, if he’s stumbling over his words already.

“I’ve been told they kept me in a special facility for the first three years, isolated from everyone, to limit the damage I could do. I don’t actually remember that part, but when I turned four they brought out the–” 

Hizashi’s voice breaks over the word and so instead he simply taps his lips. Hitoshi nods, his eyes wide and Shouta squeezes Hizashi’s hand.

“I spent the better part of my childhood with it on,” Hizashi admits and then leans forward, extracting his hand from Hitoshi’s to push his glasses up.

It takes Hitoshi a moment to understand what he wants but when he spots the faint, silvery scars on Hizashi’s face his hands fly to the bridge of his nose, tracing the mirroring ones there.

“You’re like me,” Hitoshi breathes out and Hizashi nods.

“Yeah, kiddo, we match!” The usual cheer is missing from his tone and Shouta wishes they could stop talking about this.

He hates it when Hizashi pushes himself to talk about this.

There’s already a faint trembling in Hizashi’s hand and even though he’s trying to smile at Hitoshi he can’t quite make his smile reach his eyes and that’s always a bad sign with Hizashi.

Hitoshi seems to notice that Hizashi is not doing too well, too tuned in to the emotions of adults around him and instead of asking what he so clearly wants to know, he bites his lip instead, his eyes flitting over to Shouta.

Shouta would love to tell him to stop, wants to spare all of them this, but Hizashi has made the decision to talk about this, and Shouta is not going to interfere with that.

So he nods encouragingly at Hitoshi, urges him to keep going but he still hesitates. He hesitates for long enough that Hizashi notices something is off, too.

“It’s okay, you can keep asking,” he tells the kid and by now even his voice shakes. Still, he seems determined, and Hitoshi must notice that, too, because he takes a deep breath.

“Your foster families. Were they nice to you or were they like mine?”

Hizashi’s hand jerks in Shouta’s and Shouta fights the urge to flare his quirk just to let his emotions go somewhere. They know that Hitoshi suffered abuse at most of his foster families, and even though they don’t know the details, they know enough to hate that he even has to ask that.

That there is even cause to ask that.

“Oh, kiddo,” Hizashi breathes out, his face falling. “They were like yours,” he then admits, because what else is there to say.

He did not wear the muzzle until he was eight for nothing, Shouta knows that. It still makes him furious to think what happened to Hizashi, what happened to Hitoshi.

To know that nothing has changed, not really.

“Some were–not quite as bad,” Hizashi goes on and Hitoshi nods in understanding and Shouta hates, hates, hates this but he bites it all back.

This is not about him. He has a role to play here and it’s not to get angry. Shouta forces himself to breathe evenly, to not tighten his grip on Hizashi’s hand beyond a steady comfort and he resigns himself to watching silently.

“Some were–worse. School was–bad, always bad,” Hizashi mutters and he’s slipping right through Shouta’s fingers, he can tell.

“I was never good enough, never quiet enough, even though they had–” His hand goes up to his face again, tracing over where the muzzle used to sit and Shouta doesn’t need to look at him to know that he’s gone inside his head now.

It’s not that noticeable if one doesn’t know what to look for, if one has no experience with this; Hizashi could just be lost in thought, spacing out for a moment, but Shouta knows better.

He knows Hizashi is caught up in all of his bad memories, all at once, trapped and unable to come back to them.

“Aizawa?” Hitoshi carefully asks, keeping unnaturally still and Shouta forces himself to give him a smile.

“You can move, he’s not going to notice. It’s fine, remember, this is why I’m here,” Shouta tells him and gently squeezes Hizashi’s hand.

“Hey, ‘Zashi,” he softly calls out and he’s grateful when Hizashi’s head twitches into his direction.

It means he’s still trying to be aware. It makes this easier. Sometimes, Hizashi doesn’t react to anything and those times are always so, so hard.

“I’m here, remember? It’s just me,” Shouta reminds him. “You’re in our home, yours and mine and Hitoshi’s, where no one can hurt you. You’re safe with us,” he goes on and his eyes flit over to Hitoshi for a moment.

“Remember Hitoshi? He’s right here with us,” Shouta goes on, nodding encouragingly at the kid who bites his lip briefly before he takes a deep breath.

“I’m here, too,” he then says, almost too quiet to be heard but Hizashi’s head slightly turns in his direction.

“‘Toshi,” Hizashi mutters and Shouta almost wants to laugh at how big the kids’ eyes get when he hears it.

“Take his hand if you want, it will help him,” Shouta whispers at him and after a moment of hesitation Hitoshi reaches out for Hizashi’s hand.

Shouta is glad to see Hizashi respond to that, his hand not entirely limp in Hitoshi’s, because that’s a good sign. Maybe Hizashi will be back with them before they even know it.

“See, Hitoshi is here and I am here, too. And we want you to come back. Even Egg is here, waiting for you to cuddle her like you always do,” Shouta says, placing Hizashi’s hand in Egg’s fur. “Do you remember how you usually cuddle her?” he asks and watches how Hizashi slowly, so slowly starts to pet her.

It’s not even close to what he normally does, but it’s so much better than it usually is when Hizashi gets like this.

“That’s right. Think you can come back to us? We’re waiting here for you, waiting for you to speak and to laugh like you normally do. It’s just not the same without you, you know, we miss you.”

“You miss me,” Hizashi mumbles, words barely understandable but Shouta nods anyway.

“Yeah. It’s real boring without you here, isn’t it, Hitoshi?”

Shouta almost feels bad to bring attention to the kid, but he’s still watching with big eyes, his hand around Hizashi’s and he hasn’t bolted yet, so maybe he wants to help.

“I like it when you hum while you cook,” Hitoshi admits and Shouta nods at him to keep going. “Do you remember the song you hummed yesterday? You wanted to tell me what it was but then Egg nearly jumped into the pot and you forgot,” Hitoshi says and Shouta has to bite back a snort because that is such an Egg thing to do.

They will never train her out of jumping into steaming hot food; food she doesn’t even want to eat, no less.

Shouta doesn’t know what he expected but it wasn’t for Hizashi to start humming, awareness coming back to his eyes faster than it ever has before. Going by the delighted look on Hitoshi’s face it’s the very same song he hummed yesterday. 

Shouta knows it, it��s one of Hizashi’s favourite American songs, but he can never remember the name of it.

“Yes, that one, it was that one!” Hitoshi excitedly says and Shouta sees a smile curl around Hizashi’s mouth.

“Welcome back,” he quietly says, squeezing Hizashi’s arm once and when Hizashi’s eyes move over to look at him, Shouta has never been happier to see him alert and there. 

“Hi,” Hizashi breathes out and leans in for a quick kiss, before he turns his attention back towards Hitoshi. “Hi, kiddo.”

“You’re back,” Hitoshi says, expression cautiously delighted and he doesn’t let go of Hizashi’s hand for even a moment.

“I am,” Hizashi agrees. “Thanks to you.”

“Excuse me, I helped,” Shouta drily says, more than relieved to see Hizashi’s smile and hear Hitoshi’s laugh.

This really has been one of the easiest and most painless episodes Hizashi has ever had and Shouta is glad for it. He hates to see his husband go where he can’t follow him, where he can’t protect him.

“I’m sure you did,” Hizashi teasingly says and moves his hand out of Egg’s fur to pat Shouta’s, before he goes on, more serious now. “You always do.”

“As long as you remember that,” Shouta teases him, before he reaches out to ruffle Hitoshi’s hair. “But you did really well, that was a good idea with the humming,” Shouta says and Hizashi nods.

“Yeah, that was really smart,” he agrees and Shouta watches a contemplating expression flit over Hitoshi’s face before he schools it back into his usual indifference.

“What is it, kid?” Shouta asks, tilting his head in question and Hitoshi shuffles where he sits.

“I’m just–do you think–”

“What, huh?” Hizashi gently prods him when he trails off without finishing his question and Hitoshi squares his shoulders, clearly gathering courage.

“I know counting breaths is supposed to help in a panic attack,” he starts and fiddles with the hem of his shirt, “but I always get confused and lose count and then–” he shrugs but Shouta can fill in the gaps.

Because if he’s being told to count and he loses count it would undoubtedly make him panic even harder, because he’s not following along like he’s supposed to.

“But maybe the humming could help?”

“Maybe it can!” Hizashi immediately agrees. “It’s worth a try.” Hizashi’s face briefly falls. “I’m sorry we didn’t realise that counting didn’t help,” he then offers but Hitoshi shakes his head. 

“You asked me before, what I think would help, but I couldn’t��I didn’t think I was allowed to say,” he admits and for all that it makes Shouta furious again, to hear that the kid has never been allowed to ask for things, to even simply state things, it also makes something warm surge in his chest, because clearly now Hitoshi knows that he’s allowed to say something like that.

“You’re always allowed to say anything you want, kid,” Shouta still reminds him, because he thinks it can’t hurt if Hitoshi hears it again and again and again.

Hitoshi only nods at that before he ducks his head again, slumping in on himself.

“What is it, kid?” Shouta asks because by now he knows the tells of his family and the position Hitoshi is in means that he’s got something else to say, something he doesn’t feel comfortable saying.

“I don’t want to upset Yamada again,” Hitoshi mutters and Shouta and Hizashi share a look before Hizashi carefully pulls the kid closer.

“It’s not you who upset me,” he gently tells him as he tucks him into his side, “and even if that should happen, I have you two right here, don’t I? You’ll make sure I’ll be fine, I trust that.”

Hitoshi’s breath hitches in his throat and Shouta shuffles closer until he can put a hand to Hitoshi’s knee.

“He’ll tell you if it’s too much,” he reassures him as well and Hitoshi still doesn’t look at them, but he does speak up.

“It got better for you, right?” he asks, his voice thin and wavery and Hizashi drops a kiss to the top of his head and Shouta relaxes, because this is easier for Hizashi to talk about.

“It did, kiddo, it got so much better. My moms found me when I was eight and they took me in without hesitation. They got rid of the muzzle and pulled me out of school and even when I deafened one of them, they never faltered in their love for me.”

“You hurt them?”

“I did. I had basically no control over my quirk, because no one bothered to teach me or even let me talk. But my moms took care of that. They sent me to a specialist, had me training my quirk until I could sing at the top of my lungs without hurting anyone and then they moved us to a different city, far away from everyone who only remembered me as the dangerous kid. I never had problems in school again and my moms never hurt me. I got real lucky and I had a really happy childhood from then on.”

Shouta sees Hitoshi process that before he opens his mouth and promptly closes it again so fast that his teeth painfully clack together.

Shouta doesn’t need to be a mind reader to know what Hitoshi wanted to ask.

“Just like you will now,” he whispers, leaning in close and catching Hitoshi’s eyes. “We have you now, and we’re going to make sure that you never get hurt again. We’ll make you as happy as we can, I promise you that. You’re always safe with us.”

“We wouldn’t let anything or anyone hurt you ever again, kiddo,” Hizashi says as well and Hitoshi slumps against his side, hiding his face away in his sweatshirt.

“Is it okay if I move to your other side?” Shouta asks after a moment because he’d really like to hug the kid now, too and he moves as soon as Hitoshi nods his consent.

Shouta sits close and brackets Hitoshi in by putting his arm around Hizashi’s shoulder and no one says anything when Hitoshi quietly cries into Hizashi’s sweater. It’s not necessary that anyone says something, because people have lied to Hitoshi all his life and so now it’s important that they show him that it’s okay, that he’s safe with them.

That they are never going to hurt him.

It will take time, Shouta is under no illusion there, but when he looks up at Hizashi he sees nothing but determination and love in his eyes and he knows that they are in this for life.

There is no way they are ever going to betray the fragile trust that was placed in them.