#something tells me the daughters are also autistic
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My mom, after spending an extended weekend with my dad's old college classmates and their families: It's so weird that all of these very weird, intelligent and structured men who got their masters in engineering in the late 1980s have sons that are all autistic and daughters who all have mood disorders.
Me: Yeah, very weird. Why could that be?
#autism#depression#something tells me the daughters are also autistic#I mean I know I am#our brothers just got diagnosed in elementary school and got help and accomodations#while we were labeled gifted and got no help at all#just more responsibilities and pressure#until we burned out at the ripe old age of 16#and were now feeling as failures and disappointments to our parents on top of everything else#while also being the first generation to grow up with social media#idk that may just be me
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To Be Alone
Pairings: Wednesday Addams x fem!reader
Summary: Being alone was something special to Wednesday, but being alone with you was sacred. And she refused to share you with anyone else, even if that meant owning up to her feelings
A/N: this is part 1 of a series. If you would like to be included in the Taglist for it, let me know!
Warnings: slight friends with benefits, jealous Wednesday, snarky Reader
Word Count: 2.7K
My Masterlist
The sound of obnoxiously loud music rang throughout the room as the students of Nevermore danced in sporadic movements, and none matched the rhythm of the music. Crowds were never a fan of Wednesday’s, but she would put up with the brightest colors and loudest thumping of music to get a glimpse of you.
It was out of character for Wednesday to want anything romantic in her life, let alone with someone like you.
To put it nicely, you were just like Wednesday, a snarky asshole whose mouth sometimes got you in trouble. But you were also more friendly than Wednesday could ever be; you cared for others deeply, while Wednesday barely superficially cared for them. But when your warm, soft lips met Wednesday’s cold, stiff ones in the darkness of the woods on the coldest of winter nights, Wednesday felt her heart reach a warmth it had never known.
Your relationship with the Addams girl was a weird one, and you never expected her to be someone who would enjoy a friends-with-benefits situation. But when Wednesday called you at an ungodly hour and asked, no, told you that you were going to be her romantic partner for dinner with her family, you didn’t refuse her.
Wednesday prepped you on the car ride to dinner and told you everything you would need to say; you and Wednesday met through fencing class and soon became friends after Wednesday bested you in a duel. That information was vital to the story, according to Wednesday. You two only started to date after a romantic walk through the local graveyard, and you shared a kiss on the tombstone of the late Marilyn Thornhill.
The dinner was a peaceful one, with all things considered. You won the approval of Gomez Addams, and you seemed even to impress Grandmama. Morticia adored you, but she saw right through her daughter’s scheme of forcing you into a fake relationship with her. Of course, she would never tell Wednesday that she knew her daughter was lying to her about her relationship. Still, Morticia enjoyed watching her daughter pretend to understand the beauty and pain that is love. And Morticia knew that after enough time, Wednesday would slowly start to realize she had feelings for you.
After that dinner, you kissed Wednesday’s lips for the first time, entirely by accident. You had leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, but your sudden movement had startled the shorter girl, causing her to turn her head quickly, and when she did, her lips brushed yours. Instead of pulling back, Wednesday leaned deeper into the kiss and soon gripped your neck, trying to pull you impossibly closer as her lips connected with yours. She soon became addicted to them, and she refused to let anyone else taste them, and she soon started up an agreement with you; no feelings were involved, just late-night stolen kisses and moonlit strolls through the woods. But now, as she watched you talk with other women who weren’t her, she felt her chest tighten with anger.
“Wednesday, what are you doing?” Enid asked as she suddenly appeared beside the girl, startling Wednesday out of her thoughts. Enid had a suspicion of the goth girl’s interest in you, even though Wednesday refused to acknowledge it.
“Staring at Y/N with my autistic eyes,” Wednesday deadpanned, and the ravenette’s statement took aback Enid. “Um, okayyy,” Enid awkwardly replied as she gently placed her hands on Wednesday’s shoulders, slowly turning the girl, “I don’t know what to do with that information, but let’s go over here, where you can’t stare at Y/N.”
Truth be told, you weren’t doing anything to provoke jealousy in anyone, especially Wednesday. But the Addams loathed seeing you smile while talking to Yoko. Jealousy was a feeling she knew all too well, and it only happened with you. And for that, she would potentially murder you in your sleep tonight. It would be a clean murder, nearly no blood at all, but it put a frown on Wednesday’s lips; she wanted your murder to be a gory one, one that would bless her dreams of haunting images of you for the rest of her days, but the thought of drawing out your murder made Wednesday feel something she hadn’t felt in a long time: sadness.
“No,” Wednesday stated as she shook off Enid’s grip and continued watching you talk to the vampire. It was a dull dance, and you were only here to socialize and to make Wednesday jealous, which was working.
“Why are you so keen on watching Y/N talk to Yoko? They are roommates, like you and I,” Enid cheerfully replied, hoping to help ease the tension in Wednesday’s shoulders, but it only seemed to worsen. “Enid, three-fourths of this institution thinks that you and I are together romantically,” was all Wednesday said, and Enid picked up the hint.
“Point taken. So then, why don’t you go over there and talk to her? Like a normal person would do instead of staring at her like a creep,” Enid suggested, but judging by the glare her roommate gave her in return, she assumed that Wednesday hated the suggestion. “Well, if you’re going to be a loser whose only way of flirting is staring at Y/N until she notices you, then I don’t think you will have any luck at pulling her. But I wish you the best,” Enid stated as she quickly looked at you before returning her attention to Wednesday. She gave the goth a small hug-which Wednesday did not return-before skipping off to go God knows where.
It was as if Enid’s presence was stopping you from feeling Wednesday’s uncomfortable glaring, and as soon as the werewolf was gone, your eyes automatically found Wednesday’s dark ones.
You politely excused yourself from Yoko before walking over to Wednesday with a smug smile on your lips. Wednesday hated that smile on you, not because it looked terrible; it was quite the opposite. That smirk did something to her; it stirred something profound inside her, and she hated the beast you awoke in her.
“My lady,” you husked in a raspy voice as you took Wednesday’s hand in your own and bowed while placing a gentle kiss on the back of it. “What were you two talking about?” Wednesday asked, wasting no time in finding out if she was going to murder Yoko as well.
“Relax, my dove. We were just talking about ‘The Haunting of Hill House,’ nothing to worry about,” you replied softly as you stood up straight and gently caressed the more petite girl’s hand.
Wednesday scoffed at the pet name and tried to pull her hand out of your grip, but it only caused her to draw you closer. “You miss me that much?” You asked with a smirk as you placed Wednesday’s hand on your chest, and instead of pulling away, the more petite girl slowly ran her hand up your chest and stopped as she took your necklace between her polished black fingers.
It was a gift from Wednesday, of all people, and you wore it with pride like it was your last name. You never took it off, and in a way, it acted like a collar; no matter how far you strayed from Wednesday, people would look at it and automatically know who you belonged to.
The necklace itself was a golden chain that ended with a small circle. The circle had gold-colored beads with small, black dots in the middle. And in the center of that circle was a golden ‘W’ with a line attached to it, holding the W in place.
“You still wear it,” Wednesday stated as she flipped the W between her fingers, gently caressing it with her thumb.
“‘If you ever take this off, I will rain hellfire down on you and your family until the end of the earth. I will haunt you in this life and the next; you will never be able to get rid of the image of me standing over your lifeless body if you were ever to remove this necklace.’ Those were your exact words,” you recalled with a smirk as you watched Wednesday play with the necklace. “But hey, at least you think of us together in the next life.”
“No,” she simply stated, and you were going to argue back, but she pulled you down to her level by the necklace, “If you ever tell anyone I have plans with you in the next life, I will skin you alive and feed your remains to Fester.”
The laugh you gave Wednesday in response angered her beyond belief, but the sound of it infested her stomach with spiders, and if she wasn’t careful, she might even admit to caring about you. “Jokes on you, Uncle Fester is my best friend. We are basically inseparable,” you remarked as you stood back up, and Wednesday let go of the necklace.
“I hate that you are his favorite person,” Wednesday mumbled under her breath and then cleared her throat as she remembered why she needed to talk to you, “I will be needing your assistance this weekend.”
“And why’s that?” You asked with a smirk. You knew it was parent’s weekend, and Wednesday needed to keep up the act of you two being together; you just wanted to hear her admit it. “My parents are coming this weekend; you must be there to prove to them that I am capable of feeling emotions other than intense anger and homicidal thoughts,” Wednesday deadpanned as the loud music slowly turned into a softer one, a waltzing song.
You didn’t recognize the beautiful melody, but you stuck out your hand toward the smaller girl. “Can I have this dance?” You asked with a soft smile, and if it were under any other circumstance, Wednesday would have said yes. “No,” she dryly replied while slapping your hand away, “And you didn’t answer my question.”
“I didn’t know it was a question,” you stated.
“It’s not; I just like allowing you to think that you have a say in what you get to do.”
“You are a woman after my own heart, Wednesday Addams,” you joked, and Wednesday scoffed at you. “In your wildest dreams,” the goth girl stated as she walked away from you, but you followed her.
“So what will this weekend trip entail? Do I need to start flushing my teeth and putting on chapstick?” You questioned while following the smaller girl out of the ballroom. “Why do you not already floss your teeth?” Wednesday asked with an eyebrow hitched, clearly displaying her irritation that you don’t floss regularly.
“Ummm, because it’s pointless? I brush my teeth twice daily. Isn’t that enough?” You retorted with a curious look. “One day, you are going to wake up in the middle of the night, and all of your teeth will have fallen out of your brainless head. When that happens, I shall make a necklace out of them and force you to wear it as a remembrance of our conversation about flossing,” Wednesday stated as she walked toward her room. She had a weird way of showing affection toward you.
When Wednesday reached her dorm, she opened the door and tried to close it on you, but you caught it in just enough time and stepped into her room. You shut the door as you followed the ravenette toward her desk. “Okay, but seriously Wednesday. What do you want me to do when Mr. and Mrs. Addams arrive?” You questioned with a serious expression, and when Wednesday looked up at you, she missed your usual playful demeanor.
“Be normal. You’ve been around them before; why do you still ask me how you should act around them?” Wednesday questioned as she loaded paper into her typewriter. “Um, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I hate lying to people! And your mom is hot, so that also makes me nervous,” you responded with a little bit of defensiveness. But for an unknown reason, Wednesday felt her heart slowly break at mentioning your attraction to her mother.
“Do not remind me of your infuriating attraction to my mother,” Wednesday deadpanned as she began typing, “And we aren’t lying to them, so you don’t need to worry.”
A small scoff left your lips at her comment, but then a mischievous smile overtook your lips as you found a loophole. Carefully, you leaned an elbow on Wednesday’s desk and smirked at the ravenette, who seemed ignorant of the mistake she made.
“So, we aren’t lying to them, correct?” You asked in a calm voice as your eyes examined Wednesday’s face. “Why are you making me repeat myself? You are correct; we are not lying to them. Now, will you please leave me so I can work?” The Addams coldly remarked as she shook the feeling of spiders in her stomach at your proximity. No matter how many stolen kisses you two shared, you always made her nervous and gitty, which was a feeling she both loathed and cherished all the same.
“By that logic, we aren’t lying about our fake relationship? So that means we are actually, in fact, dating?” You asked with that same smirk, and Wednesday knew she had fucked up when she looked into your eyes and only saw hope that didn’t match your playful smirk. “We are not in a romantic relationship at all. We are just two acquaintances who engage in romantic activities from time to time. Now leave,” Wednesday stated as she grew increasingly annoyed with you.
You gave the smaller girl a pathetic sigh as you pushed yourself off the desk and slowly sauntered away from her desk, but before you could get too far, Wednesday grabbed your wrist. When you turned to face her, Wednesday reached up and tightly gripped your uniform tie as she brought your lips down to hers, and you both sighed into the kiss.
It had been too long since you both found comfort in each other’s lips, and Wednesday had started to crave their delicate touch and sweet taste. And, of course, by ‘too long,’ that meant nearly a day. The kiss itself was a chaste one that displayed all of the love and affection Wednesday had for you that she could never verbally say.
Only when oxygen became a problem did you pull away from those heavenly lips. With a small huff, the ravenette rested her forehead against yours as her free hand came up and slowly stroked your jaw.
“I want to rip out your mandible and add it to my bone collection,” was what Wednesday mumbled against your lips, but the words that traveled through your ears were, ‘You mean so much to me that I want to have a piece of you with me forever,’ and you were happy with that translation.
“You have such a way with words, you know that? You really know how to make a girl feel special,” you mumbled against her lips before placing a final kiss on them and turning to leave.
“Where are you going?” Wednesday asked as she returned to reality when she didn’t feel your lips anymore and saw you walking toward the door to leave.
“You told me to leave, so that’s what I’m doing,” you replied before a slight smirk overtook your face, “Why, do you miss me already?”
“No. Just be ready by tomorrow morning so we can eat breakfast with them,” Wednesday stated as she continued her work, ignoring the feeling in her stomach at the thought of you leaving for the night. Most of the time, when her parents visited, you would stay the night in her dorm to further push the agenda that you two were a couple. Definitely not because Wednesday found it hard to sleep without you at night.
“Goodnight, Wednesday. I hope your dreams are just as evil as you are,” you joked as you opened the door, and Wednesday huffed in response as you left the room.
Unbeknownst to you, Wednesday hadn’t been working on her novel. She had been writing out all the things you make her feel, and when you had wished nightmares upon her, the final sentence that had made its one onto the page was the thing that shattered her heart the most: ‘Gods should fear the love I have for you.’
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Taglist: @elduster @silentwolfsstuff @baddiebbarbietngz @maskthedwarf @aroaceanxietylemon
#wednesday addams x reader#wednesday addams#wednesday x reader#wednsday addams#wednesday addams x female reader#jenna ortega#jenna ortega x reader#Spotify
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hi! first, i love your writing, it's so good! also, i loved your oneshot about the autistic lannister reader so much, it was so relatable🥺 can we get another part (or not following specifically, just the reader being autistic) but focused on their relationship with tywin, please? tysm!
The Weakness of Tywin Lannister
Tywin Lannister x Autistic! Lannister! (daughter) Reader
CONTENT: Canonical! Character death (Joanna), mentions of abortion (Joanna), genereal mistreatment of Tyrion, meltdown(s)
Tywin is a warning in himself, Viserys (3) and Joffrey are mentioned in like a line each, so prepare for that too
1.2k words (smol)
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Welcome all to the November update. I'm alive, I'm fairly well and I can't believe I'm getting traction.
Thank you to all your requests, I'm going through them atm this one just- Spoke to me.
I wrote this in a free hour instead of studying, so we'll see what happens.
Live, laugh, Tywin.
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When Joanna dies, Tywin doubts he will find another love so pure, so completely genuine, that it could even scratch the expectations his wife leaves behind. He is not a man of much integrity or kindness, but he loved his wife. Most men are not fortunate enough to have a wife who loved them, and without it, there is not much to do.
But it is not your fault, no. You are an angel, a gift from your mother to him. He should have known Joanna was not strong enough to bear another child, he knows he should have forced Moon Tea down her throat and held her as she bled. Even the cats knew she couldn’t recover from the birth. But, it is not your fault.
The staff expect you to share Tyrion’s rooms, to have another child that is neither spoken to nor visited by their father; Tyrion the imperfect, and the new baby who killed their mother. Instead, Tywin appears himself, and carries the cradle prepared for you from the family rooms right up to the master bedroom. Your nurse is instructed to only appear when you need to be fed, he will handle you.
Tywin realises, nearly immediately, that you are a different sort of child. You are quiet and sweet, you never cry or complain, even as you phase from infancy into childhood, there is nothing, truly, that upsets you. There is a confidence within you, a chubby, blonde toddler running about the halls with an ornate horse in one hand, and the Hand of the King cautiously trailing behind. He has other work to do, but nothing as important as taking care of his sweet one.
You return to Casterly Rock, your bloodland, when you are five- Nearly six, you say. Jaime and Cersei stay behind in the Red Keep, one married and the other draped in white cloth. You don’t quite understand where your playmate, little Viserys, has gone to, but your father tells you not to ask, and you’ll do just about anything he says.
If there is one instance Tywin could point to the actual realisation that something was amiss, it would be the first weeks he spends with you in Casterly Rock. You have been nothing but calm, and sweet, but here, you break. Hours of crying, refusing to eat or sleep, the maesters assure him you are not ill, and yet you tantrum constantly, for seemingly no reason at all. He figures it out eventually, of course, one of your toys was lost in the journey, a ragdoll with no real significance or extraordinary features. But it was yours and you wanted it, so another was commissioned for you, and although you complain that it is ‘different’, you are seven, and the story that she holidayed in the Reach is convincing enough to shut you up. Tywin learns that day to keep a spare of anything he sees you playing with.
The nurses tell him all children are fussy, the oldest of them, the one to nurse Genna and his youngest brothers, can recall a time in which he himself would wear only red, and for about a week would only sleep in a makeshift fort out in the yard with Kevan; that was, until a winter set in, and the gates were locked at night to keep them from getting out and freezing to death, but there is something within him that says your behaviour is different to the frivolities of youth.
He enjoys your company, as you grow into a delicate young woman. You are unmediated, fresh, in a sense that most are not. You could speak to a king the way you would a peasant, and vice versa. Tywin is there to look after you, to hold your hand and keep you out of harm’s way, and his years of service to Casterly Rock with just you at his side, and Tyrion when he emerges from the brothels, are memories which nothing can besmirch.
And then his grandson is put to the throne, and life collapses once again. There is war, and chaos in every part of the Kingdoms, five kings stake a claim to iron, or to salt, and Tywin Lannister is once again Hand of the King. Your little dog is by his side, a little spaniel, or some other feminine dog breed, lazy as sin one moment and destroying the place the next. It reminds him of you. He can’t quite remember its name: Winnie, or Wobbles, or something equally ridiculous. Tywin feeds it scraps of mutton from his plate, he won’t tell you he’s feeding it.
“Papa?”
He stands immediately, and rushes to your side. You are practically shaking, with big eyes and frighteningly pale skin. Tywin has seen this many times, and it hurts him every one of them. Even with the life of a princess, you can still find ways to be terribly upset,
“I can’t find Waldred.”
Waldred. That was the damned thing’s name, he knew it was something stupid. He sighs, and travels around his desk, lifting the spaniel up and putting it into your arms. For how lazy it was, the beast was surprisingly light. Usually, you laugh. Today you cry harder. Waldred is put back down, and he takes you onto his knee. The dog doesn’t do very much to assist the situation, he turns himself around and flops over Tywin’s feet, huffing at the inconvenience. He lets you cry, until you start coughing and spluttering, and you are instructed to calm down. He has learned that he can’t be firm with you, you think it a display of anger when there is none.
“I-” When you are ready to speak again, he sets you onto the couch beneath you, “I thought I lost him- I looked everywhere, it’s past his walk time.”
Waldred hears the word ‘walk’ and dramatically flips over, not very keen. Any normal dog would be jumping about the place in anticipation, this one now resembled more of a furry ball than it did an animal.
Tywin will not question why you were so upset about potentially losing your animal, he knows how much you adore your little dog, and nor will he mention that the thing hasn’t been unsupervised a day in its life. In fact, now that he thinks about it, Waldred is probably more guarded than you are. The lazy beast hasn’t left the Tower of the Hand unless it was carried, and even then it complains. Sometimes he wonders why he bought it for you in the first place.
He sees how the courts treat you, how Joffrey tries near constantly to publicly humiliate your oddities, and how the ladies of his elder daughter’s court leave you entirely on your own, he actually doesn’t know if you even have friends, apart from the dog, and potentially Varys. It doesn’t matter anyways, you are his and his only, and there is no-one but the Gods and a small list of possible suitors for you that will get in his way.
#tywin lannister x reader#game of thrones#game of thrones x reader#got x reader#game of thrones x y/n#got#tywin lannister#house lannister x reader#lannister x reader#if you want to call this a prequel to Kitty Cat you can#But I didn't necessarily write it as one#Waldred the dog is an icon
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curiosity is a wonderful thing - ch. 9
wc: 3.2k
genre: slow burn, little angst, childhood best friends to lovers
pairing: slow burn bff!ben x fem daughter of alice!reader, previously audrey x ben, mal x ben???? apparently????
warnings: emotional damage!!! unusual behavior from ben, reader has a lil mini breakdown, reader is a just a tad autistic coded and has kind of a meltdown??? could also be read as emotional distress so interpret how you will
summary: ben gets weird during a tourney game and your gut is telling you something you probably shouldn't ignore.
song recs: twisted - aviva, cradles - sub urban, rabbit heart - florance and the machine, heads will roll - yeah yeah yeahs
a/n: YOOOOOOOOO IT'S GETTIN JUICYYYYYY. also our cat I mentioned in the an of chapter 8 has settled in well. he's so talkitive lol. I LOVE YOU GUYS I HOPE YOU'RE ENJOYING HAPPY PRIIIIIDEEEEEEE~~~~~ BEEEEE WHO YOU AARRRREEEE FOR YOUR PRIIIIIIIIIIIDDDDDDEEEEEEEE
tags @yesv01@magcon7280 @hopefullhearts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sunshineangel-reads @dustyinkpages @inejsknifes @tulipmagnoliaisme @ev3ningrain SORRY IF I MISSED ANYONE YELL AT ME IN THE NOTES AND ILL ADD YOU LOL
You take in a big lungful of the crisp, springtime fresh Auradon air as you crawl out of your rabbit hole and back into Overland. Roots and twigs and grass stick to your skirts, but you don’t mind much. You check your pocket watch in a panic, and scurry to the tourney match. You’re merely a pebble’s throw away, so you reach the bleachers quite quickly. Late, granted, but not too late. Not horribly, irreversibly, all-endingly late. You climb up to your usual spot in the bleachers, only a few seats away from the isle kids. Well, Mal and Evie, really, since Jay and Carlos are out on the field. You try to wave at the girls, but they seem much too preoccupied with the game to notice. You understand their fascination, tourney matches are simply addictive.
You yourself hadn’t been one for sports - aside from the occasional caucus race - that is, until Ben joined the tourney team last year. He must have spent every spare moment leading up to his first match trying to explain the rules to you with no luck, but the moment the referee blew her whistle, you were enamored watching him play. And it’s simply been that way ever since. No matter what it is, you know it will be a fantastical time if Ben’s the one playing. This seems especially true today.
Ben tears up the field like an absolute animal - no pun intended - and within minutes has scored yet another goal for Auradon. The Fighting Knights are pulling out all the stops, and through even your unwavering faith in Ben’s athleticism, it’s starting to look like a close call. You pull out a teacup from your bag, the china cool under your fingertips. It’s adorned with a white catchfly and chestnut print, but you don’t pay much attention to it.
Your eyes are locked on Ben as he races down the field, and you pour the spout of your tea pot shaped bag into the cup. Warm, perfectly brewed rooibos and nettle tea trickles from its spout. You shake it absentmindedly a few times, and some lemon slices and lavender sprigs fall in, floating atop the beverage. You take a sip of the warm, perfectly seasoned herbal tea, nearly choking on it as Jay drags Carlos across the field. You watch with bated breath as they move strategically, setting up Ben to score the perfect winning goal. The ball flies straight into the net, and you jump up, cheering and applauding, not even noticing the rooibos and nettle tea stain on your skirt. The crowd roars right along with you, applauding and cheering deafeningly while the announcer congratulates Auradon Prep on their win. Before he can even finish speaking, Ben grabs the mic from him.
You stop dead in your tracks, brow furrowed.
That’s not like him.
Not at all.
“Excuse me, excuse me!” Ben pants, still out of breath as he tries to get the crowd’s focus. “Can I have your attention please?”
The stands quiet as he speaks.
“There’s- uh, there’s something I’d like to say!”
What in the Knave’s good name is he doing? Your mind races, trying to remember if he’d said anything about something like this. Were there any speeches, any announcements, anything like that he was going to make after the game? You can’t remember him mentioning anything like that. Besides, he always runs his speeches by you first to make sure it comes across the way he intends it too. Even something as small as an opening statement or homework presentation, he always gets your feedback first. You watch the way his eyes dart around, the way he hesitates as he tries to figure out what he’s saying. Your stomach drops. He’s improvising this. This whole situation feels surreal. Most peculiar, and most definitely unlike him.
After another moment of floundering, he finally addresses the crowd.
“Give me an M!”
The crowd complies, shouting out the letter and mirroring the shape he’s making with his arms.
“Give me an A!”
“A!”
While the crowd complies yet again, throwing their arms over their heads in an A shape, your eyes fly over to Audrey. You’re afraid you know where this is going, even though it makes positively less sense than the most twisting turning riddles you’ve ever encountered in Wonderland. Your horrified, bewildered expression is the opposite of her hopeful one, and you realize you’re thinking the same thing. Your stomach sinks in a sick, twisting feeling. Your mind races in a dreamlike panic.
He can’t seriously be asking Audrey to marry him, could he?
There’s no way. There’s simply no chance that the Ben you’ve known for longer than you’ve been brewing tea would do something so… impulsive. Everything about Ben is calculated. Well thought through. Ben agonizes over each and every decision, he lies awake at night paralyzed by the potential consequences of each action, each choice not being thought all the way through and analyzed from every possible angle. If proposing to Audrey was even a thought in his mind, he would have told you about it.
There’s simply no other way. There’s no possibility this was even an option in his mind. Just last week when you had quietly implied that maybe he should consider ending their relationship, his silence spoke louder than any words could have. You had seen that. You saw it in his eyes. There’s no way he could be changing his mind that quickly, and not consulting you - or someone about it? You know you would have gotten wind if he even implied he was toying with the notion. Ben does not flip-flop. So what is… this?
“Give me an L!”
Audrey’s face drops. Yours floods with relief.
He’s not proposing.
“C’mon, I can’t hear you!” Ben calls out into the mic, hyping up the crowd. They yell Mal’s name again at Ben’s encouragement. You think you see where he’s going with this. It makes sense - Jay and Carlos each got a big starring moment during the tourney game. Now, Ben is giving a shout out to Mal and Evie so they can share in the glory, and won’t feel left out. It’s a brilliant idea, you realize, but you still can’t figure out why he didn’t plan something like this ahead. Did he realize last minute that Mal and Evie might feel excluded? It’s possible. And right now, it’s the most rational explanation you have for this unusual behavior. Before you can feel too relieved, he leans into the mic. You wait for him to instruct the crowd to give him an E, beginning to spell Evie’s name, and-
“I love you, Mal!”
Your stomach drops. You freeze again, brow furrowed more than before. The world around you spins as you stand in the crowd, disoriented. He says it like a deathbed confession, the words tearing from his throat. Through your confused stupor, you can hear the sincerity, the yearning in his voice.
What?
You don’t even think to look over at Audrey, but you’re sure as anything her expression is exactly the same as yours - completely and totally shell shocked. Probably moreso, you think, she is his girlfriend after all. But is she? Anymore, that is. You can’t imagine she would want to be after a display like that, after Ben publicly-
Ben…
Ben.
His gaze flicks over to you for a split second, not even long enough for you to silently ask him what the hell is going on. But it’s just long enough for you to see a flash of something. A look in his eye. Fear. Confusion. Everything you’re feeling for him right now. His attention is ripped forcefully back to Mal. Whatever was there, you can’t see it now.
“Give me a beat!” Ben demands overzealously to the band. They start playing something for him, something loud and fast. Ben begins singing Mal’s praises. Literally. You’re still frozen, sick with a cold, confused feeling that makes the world around you feel like a strange dream. Unreal. You begin to question if you are dreaming. Through your dazed state - which you only later realize has begun to be accompanied by hot tears blurring your vision - you could swear you saw Mal and Evie share some sort of look, whisper knowingly. They giggle. Mal pulls a zip top bag of cookies out of her jacket pocket and they both start giggling. Laughing.
A noise catches your scattered attention and you notice Ben has launched himself into the stands, crowd surfing to get all the way over to Mal. He climbs down, grabbing her waist and pulling her close. It’s so intense, so passionate, so unlike him to do something like that in public. You start to gasp, but you can’t. The stands are so loud, each noise feels like a gunshot deafening you. Your lungs feel like they’re being squeezed from the bottom up like paint tubes, gripped by an artist desperate for the last drops of cadmium yellow deep.
His hand rests firmly on the small of her back.
Just like it does on yours.
Something sickening twists through you, contaminating your heart and sapping away at your strength. Audrey’s voice cuts through, piercing and shrill as she announces to Ben that Chad is her boyfriend now. You see them kiss in your peripheral vision, eyes still locked on the way Ben’s hand sits on Mal’s back. He doesn’t seem to notice Audrey either, or at the very least, he doesn’t acknowledge her. Normally you’d giggle privately at how much that would irritate her, but nothing so frivolous crosses your mind just then.
“I love you, Mal!” Ben exclaims into the microphone. “Did I mention that?”
He leans closer, aching for her, needing her. But she puts her hands on his chest, trying to keep more distance between them.
“Mal,” he begs, panting as his breath fans across her face, his cheeks flushed. He grips her tighter, leaning closer until he’s practically dipping her. The crowd watches, shocked at the sight of Prince Ben - who is known for his diplomatic reserve and continuous composure - acting so bold in public. “Will you go to coronation with me?”
“Yes!” Mal’s response comes a little too easily.
You stare off into space in his general direction, choked with disbelief. You feel so frightened and confused and unwelcome. It’s a cold, isolated feeling of strangeness you’ve been running from since you could walk. You knew what people said about Wonderlandians, what they whispered behind your back when they thought you couldn’t hear. It was always Ben who made that feeling go away. He had seen the change in you, too. The more time you spent together since you were littles, the more he included you and sent disapproving princely looks to anyone who dared to tease you or make you feel like you’re not a part of Auradon, the more it started to work. He saw you relax, saw you believe him when he said he was happy to see you. He saw the shame and paranoia from accepting the fact that everyone around you was teasing you behind your back, spreading lies and rumors fade away.
Ben watched you grow into yourself the moment he showed you that you were safe to do so. Now, after ten years, that horrible feeling is back and Ben is gone. You turn, rushing out of the bleachers, hopping down to solid ground and turning underneath the stands. You’ve barely stopped before the world caves in around you, and the familiar scent of earth and night and the good kind of confusion envelop your senses, like a hug from your mother.
You fall down the rabbit hole, and you weep. Shamelessly, loudly, uncontrolled. Your tears fly off into the air above you as you fall, no longer afraid of prying eyes. You cry and cry, losing your sense of time and space as you fall deeper and deeper away from the world that never seems to lose amusement in stinging you when you least expect it. You take in a breath, but before you can let it out as another aching sob, you’re plunged underwater.
Your eyes flare open in the deep waves around you, the black void of a sky above. You kick yourself up to the surface, gasping as you tread the current carrying you downstream. The water splashes around you, getting into your mouth, and it’s salty. A stork sails by on a little wooden raft, adjusting her captain’s hat. “Well, that would do it!” She exclaims in a thick, Wonderlandian accent. “I was wondering what caused these high tides.”
She maneuvers her raft towards you and hauls you onto it, her gangly legs wobbling awkwardly as she keeps her balance. She pulls a handkerchief out of her pocket and hands it to you, her long feathers tickling your fingertips.
“Dry your eyes there, dearie, or else we’ll be having to build a new dam!”
You sputter an apology, which she dismisses goodnaturedly, and begins singing a confusing sea shanty as she navigates the waves, coming and going as you try to calm yourself. After a few minutes, a particularly large wave pushes you two over the river’s edge and sends you spinning into the forest.
“Well, there you have it.” She says, taking off her cap and dumping out water, sand, a few shells, and a very irritable codfish. She unties the strings of her raft, gathering up the large sticks used to make it into a bundle, and tucking them under her arm.
“Quite useful, you know,” She says softly, before handing you a piece of nicely shaped paper. It reads The Two Blwo’s Shipping Survise. “And if you ever need something lickety split, I do hope you’ll give me a call.”
She tilts her hat and lopes off through the woods into darkness.
You plop yourself down on the nearest thing - a large, bioluminescent blue mushroom with little purple spots that makes a sound like a big deep drum when you sit down on it. Several smaller mushrooms varying in size scatter near the base of the one you’re seated on. As you pull your foot up to get comfortable, you graze a few of the litter ones, and let out different tones and types of drums too. Normally this would fascinate you. Normally you would be taking pictures, writing about them in your journal, and trying to learn how to play a song on them - if they’re in the right sort of temperament, of course. But today you don’t even notice.
Your mind is still spiraling, sucked down into a whirlpool of the day’s events. You go over and over what happened, hoping to make sense of it, but unable to really process anything. That was so strange, Ben is acting so strange. Why is he acting like that, you wonder. Did he hit his head? Has he somehow been possessed by a very extroverted poltergeist? Why would he do that? It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t even make nonsense. Even in Wonderland, there are still patterns, there are still rules and motivations for doing things. Even if those rules and patterns don’t make sense to anyone else, they’re still real. Wonderland is illogical and absurd, but it’s not purely random.
You rock yourself comfortingly on the bouncy mushroom, the soft noise providing an ambiance that helps you start to think again. There’s no feasible pattern or non-pattern or non-pattern pattern to Ben’s behavior. If there were one, you would be able to find it, especially if you know him as well as you do. And you do. You glance down and see some beetles marching in a line, carrying leaf umbrellas to avoid any more falling tears. You wipe them from your cheeks quickly.
“My apologies.” You say, your voice polite and fragile. The head beetle chirps, clicking his wings and tipping his hat. He ushers the others past your mushroom quickly, putting their leaf umbrellas onto an umbrella leaf bush nearby.
A few bread-and-butterflies flitter over, carrying a tray of tea and cakes. They place it before you gently, brewing you a cup of blackberry earl grey with extra honey. You thank them, and they nod, flittering off and leaving a trail of buttery breadcrumbs as their wings flap. They land nearby, listening to you mutter to yourself as the line up to form a loaf. The tea and cakes are delicious, full of jam and honey, and they steady your nerves. You take in another breath, less shaky this time, and begin to think. Not panic, really think.
“There has to be a reason,” you mumble out loud, “There simply has to be. Ben doesn’t just lose his composure like this. He’s not devoid of sensibilities and decision making. He’s worked so hard to hone his reputation as someone trustworthy, someone full of common sense and compassion, and that… being that person for Auradon is everything to him.”
You place down your tea cup firmly, brow furrowing as your confusion melts away to determination.
“Everything! He would never do something so… impulsive, and foolhardy, and- and… not like him!”
You stand up quickly, landing on your feet.
“I must get to the bottom of this.” You pause. “Or top. Either way.”
You gather your things, fix your hair, and wring out the water from your dress. Even if Ben doesn’t care about his reputation anymore, about his future, the very future of Auradon and all who reside within it, you do. Your loyalty to Ben simply cannot be broken by a day like today. You won’t let him throw away everything he’s worked towards for no reason. For any reason! If he’s just gone mad, that’s one thing to be dealt with. But there’s a good chance he’ll come back to his senses sooner or later, and you refuse to let everything to hell in a handbasket until he does.
You are going to figure this out. You’re going to do as much damage control as needed until Ben is back to you and Back to himself. And he is going to come back to himself. You’re sure of it.
Filled with tea cakes and determination, you summon a rabbit hole back to Auradon, and jump through. You flip and twist through the darkness, falling past a bookshelf that floats along with you for a moment, offering a few titles that might prove useful.
When light breaks the surface and you hear the cracking of polished stone floors, you climb through and emerge into the library. You dust the dirt off yourself and off your hands, setting down your books on a table. You begin to look around, rushing through the library and moving with purpose. You pull book after book off the shelves until you can hardly carry them to the checkout desk. Many of them will be fruitless, you’re sure, but anything is better than nothing in times like these.
“Doing some light reading, Ms. Liddell?” The librarian asks, chuckling at the imposing stack of books you’ve placed before her as she scans through them.
“There’s nothing light about it, I’m afraid.”She looks up, surprised by the unusual heaviness to your voice, the sharp, focused determination. “Thank you, madam.” You say, grabbing all your books and marching off to your dorm. You have a lot of reading to get through.
#curiosity#curiosity is a wonderful thing#ben florian#ben florian x reader#descendants#descendants x reader#daughter of alice#daughter of alice!reader#liddell!reader
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I WOULD LOVE MORE DEMON REACTIONS!! I love it both when you add lore and when you just describe sy’s relationships and peoples’ reactions to him. It is so awesome!!!! For demons I imagine that everyone is just like, look at the little funky crow man(when they aren’t terrified of his reputation at least). I imagine some upstart demon noble or something goes to try and make an alliance with/conquer the corvids or smth and then they either get absolutely bodied by the crows who don’t want to share their king or the meet sy and are just in shock because this guy?? This is the feared corvid king?? At least until sy mentions something from his knowledge of PIDW and they get absolutely freaked out because how does he know that?? What do you mean my daughter will be married off soon?? Maybe there is going to be rumors about him being a seer or something. ESPECIALLY if what sy mentions is in relation to a bloodbath that bingge from PIDW caused since crows are associated with death(at least in our world). I wonder how intimidated they would be since not only does sy have a terrifying reputation. But he is a heavenly demon. And like you mention, Tianlang-jun ran a whole empire. ALSO!! I love the reactions so much! Tianlang-jun just shipping sy with zzl when they brawl whilst sy is just in full bird brain and doesn’t want to share his shinys. Imagine all the rumors that would fly around(probably encouraged by tlj) When Binghe sees this he’d throw an absolute FIT!
There is a lot to unpack here, all of it absolutely delightful, but I'm going to be a little freak and start on what's been tugging at my mind as I read this. (I'll probably have to write a part two because I can feel my autistic little brain whirring at at least ninety miles an hour, I'm so sorry) DID YOU KNOW THAT IN GREEK MYTHOLOGY, CROWS ARE ASSOCIATED WITH APOLLO, GOD OF (amongst other things) PROPHECY. I am a teeny weeny bit of a Greek mythology nut, so this immediately jumped me the moment I read about demons viewing SY as a seer of sorts (in the instance that the system was either far more relaxed or non-existent). So, so, basically, in Greek mythology, Apollo learned that one of his lovers (Coronis, I believe) was being unfaithful through ravens/crows and this led to him turning them from white to black! Due to them being featured in this myth, he is heavily associated with them and, in general, they are associated with prophecy and divination. SO, if we want to fuck around in our little sandbox (under the impression that Airplane is stealing from other mythologies aside from just Chinese mythology), we can decide that there is at least three wife plots in PIDW that surround crows and their ideas of prophecy!!! When Shen Yuan starts blabbering about these different future events, and then they HAPPEN, the other demons are like GASP. FUCK. The crow knowss.....ANDANDANDAND, RIGHT, THE IDEA OF CROW DEMONS BEING ABLE TO DIVINE VIOLENT/DEADLY DISASTERS BECAUSE OF THEIR ASSOCIATION WITH DEATH JUST MAKES PEOPLE MORE SCARED OF SHEN YUAN'S PREDICTIONS. HFGROGERGWOHRGHGS SOSHOHRORRRY SORRY SORRY, THIS HAS BECOME A RAMBLE THAT'S ONLY A LITTLE BIT OF WHAT YOUR ASK TOUCHES UPON BUT A P O L L O . HE HAS A TUMULTUOUS RELATIONSHIP WITH CROWS/RAVENS BECAUSE HE SCORCHED THEM BLACK AND THEY CHATTED ABOUT HIS LOVER'S UNFAITHFULNESS, SO IF WE HAVE A DEITY THAT IS LIKE APOLLO IN PIDW, WE COULD ALMOST EVEN IMPLY THAT WHEN THE DIVINE CROW BEINGS FELL TO SIN, THIS IS WHAT CAUSED IT! THEY FELL TO GOSSIP AND WERE DIVINELY PUNISHED BY THIS DEITY, AND AND, OUT OF SPITE AFTER THEY BECAME ENTRENCHED IN SIN, THE HEAVENLY CROW DEMONS BEGAN DIVINING TO THE WEAK MORTALS WITHOUT THE DEITY TELLING THEM TO BECAUSE THEY WANTED TO GET BACK AT THE DEITY AHAHAHAHAHA. (obviously this isn't a definite thing, it's just an alternative way for the heavenly crows to become heavenly demons. It's just me chattering to myself) I'll make a separate post on the MAIN demons' reactions to SY but, in general, most demons are either actively petrified of him because of his image as a deity, or they're relatively disillusioned because they've seen him in person and he's been a SWEETHEART, hitting them with the wife beam. That doesn't mean that they aren't still kind of terrified of the powerful, prophetic crow heavenly demon deity, but in a "scared but horny way", and that's only when SY displays this power! Most of the time he's an undeniably strange but incredibly kind hearted guy that just seems to want to help everyone!! Even if he hates doing things!!! Tianlang-Jun is always under the full determination of "ONE of my relatives is going to marry this crow demon, or I'm going to do it myself." The first time Zhuzhi-Lang and Luo Binghe hear that they both immediately just stare at TLJ like "don't you dare, you whore" (ZZL a lot more respectful than LBH, of course), but TLJ is booored. Someone better fuck marry that freak or he'll do it himself.
(When I write part two for the important demon reactions to SY, I'll link it here, so keep an eye out!!!)
#four being a dumbass#crowyuan au#of the heavenly demon variety#dear lord#I am autistic#holy shit balls#I got very very excited about yapping about Greek mythology#I apologise for ranting about something that isn't really related#I just got excited 😔#scum villain self saving system#ren zha fanpai zijiu xitong#scum villain#mxtx svsss#svsss au#svsss#shen yuan#tianlang jun#zhuzhi lang#luo binghe#greek mythology#apollo
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so, i've been thinking about laios's relationship with his mother. we all know about his daddy issues by now, but no one thinks about his mother. i mean, he disowned her as well. he hardly talks about her. he has a lot to say about his dad but when it comes to his mother, the most he'll say is "idk, she was kinda sick a lot."
and i think it was because he did hold her on a high pedestal. she's his mother, his protector. i know for sure she babied him a lot. mothers who's first-born is a son mostly do.
she was the one who even gifted him his precious monster manual!
so, what happened? why did he also lump her with his father and decided "i'm never speaking to them ever again." ?
to put it in simple terms, it was falin. laios was so upset about how his parents treated the situation about the villagers' abuse to falin. both of them didn't know how to handle it, but they both failed at protecting her. the best their father can come up with is sending falin away to the magic school. (without explaining why bc their dad sucked at communicating with his family.)
their village was also very conservative, especially towards magic-users. i always found it to be odd since magic does seem to be the norm in the "dungeon meshi" world, however evidence shows it's not all well-known all around the world. i mean, rin's parents were burnt to death for using magic that was thought to be "black magic".
and falin's natural magical talent being "talking to the dead" would make anyone nervous bc that could be linked to black magic.
their mother is always described to be "frail", and i bet it's mostly because she's very superstitious. gotta be honest here as well, she maybe wasn't mentally healthy. this is just an assumption but their mom comes off as paranoid and anxious, and then does these made-up rituals to try to "heal" her daughter.
hurting falin like this was the final nail in the coffin for laios, because maybe he thought he could rely on her? "hey mom, can you tell dad not to send falin away? please?"
yeah, she had "good intentions", but she still abused her daughter? because she made the situation about herself and went "oh god, it's my fault my daughter is a freak. i have to fix this."
also, laios looking so stressed and haggard here makes me so sad. like, what if their mother did something similar to him when he was younger? he wouldn't care about himself getting hurt, but seeing his own mother doing it to falin is nerve-wrecking.
the way both siblings are portrayed as autistic in different ways is important to their characters. just because falin understood why their parents did what they did, doesn't make it okay. they still hurt her, and laios knows that. and in a way, they hurt him too.
if their parents couldn't protect them from awful, nasty people and expected their children to just bare it, how can laios trust them?
this is scary to see for a child.
after that, he pretty much gave up on his parents and never looked back. but i also think, if he misses them, it's more his mother than his father.
afterall, he did his best to keep his monster manual safe.
#dungeon meshi#dungeon meshi spoilers#delicious in dungeon#delicious dungeon#laios touden#falin touden#laios and falin's mother#gothie's opinions#btw what i meant when i said their mom probably did similar rituals to laios when he was younger#was that he seemed to be nonverbal as a toddler if that one extra about the day he met falin is the only comic of baby!laios#and autistic children during those time periods were always thought to be something evil or something similar#so who's to say their mom didn't try some of those weird made-up rituals on him too? 😬#that's mostly a headcanon tho but tbh i wouldn't be too surprised
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Autistic Regulus, whom I hold so near and dear to my heart, they can never take you away from me. 😔
As an autistic person, (who gets probably way to hyperfixated on certain characters) these are my HC’s:
- He was diagnosed late. Like, REALLY late. Canon compliance, he wasn’t at all, and in some modern AU it was probably late into his twenties, maybe early-to-mid-thirties, and after he was out of his parent’s hold. Because Walburga and Orion could never accept that there was something wrong with their daughter, son (because I live for trans Reggie) so why should they ever enable anyone to believe that he was ‘mental’? Or ‘slow’? No, a Black child wasn’t those things. (OOC; Just for reference, autistic people are not, nor do I think they are, mental, crazy, slow, or any of those things. I am autistic myself, and have many friends who are, and know that is not the case 💚)
This also leads to a lot of trauma for Regulus, and a lot of repressed emotions. He learned how to mask very quickly, and very well.
- he’s sensitive to bright lights (which his light blue/gray eyes do not help with), and so he squints his eyes a lot. Barty once told him he looked like he was scrutinizing his face, and Regulus simply said ‘I am, it’s ugly.’ (He doesn’t believe that, but he’s not going to tell you that.) (I love sneaking in unrelated Bartylus)
- along with bright lights, he’s sensitive to loud noises. That was hard for him when he would have to listen to, or endure, his parents screaming. When they’d scream at Sirius, Regulus would hide up in his room, in the closet, with his hands over his ears, hoping nobody called for him. When he was the one being screamed at, he’d just zone out and hope they would just go away.
- he used to be that he couldn’t bear to hold eye contact, like it physically hurt him; but his parents beat it into him that it was disrespectful, so now he’s ended up being that guy who will just dead-stare into someone’s eyes if they’re talking to him. It often unsettles them, and makes Regulus out to be some ‘weird, creepy kid.’ (Regulus was originally confused by this; wasn’t he doing it right? Do you look at their eyes or no?)
- his voice is very monotone. He was often able to get away with this, because it sounded much like his father’s. (Orion had a number of peculiar habits, and quirks. No one talked about it.)
- intimacy (even friendly touch, like hand-holding, hugging) is difficult for him. Regulus does not hug, he does not hold people’s hands. (Unless it was Sirius’, because Sirius was the one who’d hold his hand when he was melting down every other night. Sirius’ hand feels too familiar to hurt, like most others’ do.) he’s only comfortable with touch once he REALLY gets to know a person, and even then, there’s still strict no-no’s. (No touching his hair, his neck, his wrists, his legs, his feet, his stomach, (basically nothing below his waist) )- in retrospect, not much. (Those rules had more leeway with Barty, he supposed.)
- he HATES certain sounds. Cannot stand chewing, cannot stand repetitive sounds (even though he occasionally makes those, only when he’s alone), sounds of bugs, cannot stand certain textures, too- velvet, for one (formal events were nightmares, for that, and many other reasons), microfiber, and certain denims.
- he loves the water. It’s very calming, has a nice sound, has a nice texture. He listens to thunderstorm/rain sounds to go to sleep to, (because another thing is he cannot tolerate silence.)
Again, this may be me way too much projecting, but I really don’t care 🫶
#regulus black and the water jokes are not funny guys :( (they are)#regulus black#regulus being regulus#autistic regulus black#autistic regulus#regulus angst#sirius and regulus#regulus and sirius#barty crouch jr#regulus and barty#bartylus#starkiller#barty and regulus#dead gay wizards from the 70s#black brothers#walburga's a+ parenting#walburga black#marauders hc#marauders era#the marauders#regulus black hc#regulus hc
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oh so narcissistic abuse isn't real?
Then explain to me why my mom's best friends when I was 13 was a group of 15 year old mean girls who would openly bully me in front of her, but she desperately needed the literal children to think she was cool so she'd bully me with them and would like, store up information about my week like how long I engaged in my special interests or what kind of stimming I was doing and then she'd turn up to youth group in her bedazzled skinny jeans, walk right past me like she didn't just drive me here and sit on the table with these teenage girls with a "you'd never guess what Cordelia got up to this week." And the other adults who ran the youth group were really confused and obviously really uncomfortable with this 40 year old woman using her role as a trusted adult in the group to bully her autistic tween daughter but also the situation was so weird nobody got involved till the girls parents did and asked why a 40 year old woman was cultivating a "special relationship" with their kids but she was convinced she was the victim in the situation and she was being punished by these parents for caring too much about the youth group and she would vent TO ME about how mean these other mom's were being to her and how unfair it was and this whole time we were showing up every week, she'd bully the fuck out of me for 2 or 3 hours then we'd go home and she'd switch up on me and tell me that I too could have a chance to sit with the girls who she was literally helping to make my life hell but I just had to start being normal and then she'd buy me a milkshake or something as if that made everything she'd done all evening OK.
Is that just regular abuse or do you think there was maybe some other factors at play there that makes that situation a bit different?
#narcissistic abuse#raised by narcissists#parental abuse#dysfunctional family#complex trauma#childhood trauma#toxic parents#vent post#toxic mom#dysfunctional household#narcissistic family structure#narcissistic mother#narcissistic parents#narcissist#actually narcissistic#childhood abuse#traumatic childhood#childhood abuse doesn't end when childhood does#narcissism#surviving narcissism#narcissism awareness#emotional abuse#emotional neglect
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Worm Cast Impressions (Arcs 1 to 7)
Easy money says some of these characters are about to fucking die so I'm pausing now to jot down my impressions of everybody who's managed to make an impact (and one or two characters whose lack of impact is kind of impressive)
Undersiders
Taylor Hebert: Character of all time. Simultaneously sanest and least sane person in the entire universe. Deeply concerned about keeping hold of her moral core, constantly innovating in ways to inflict violence on her enemies real and imagined. Has never fully finished thinking her actions through once in her entire life, people keep thinking she's the most cautious girl they know. Her first kiss was partly because she liked the boy and partly because she wanted to piss off her bully. I am cheering for her more often than not and I am so scared of what this story is going to do to her.
Brian Laborn: I want to study him in a lab. Team leader entirely by default, as near as I can tell. Hates using violence as a means of control, really good at using violence as a means of control, seems to default to using violence as a means of control when he's upset. I don't think he's normal about women. Desperately trying to be so so so boring, thinks he's perfectly rational even though he is just as unhinged as his teammates, I suspect that he has built a mental prison with twenty layers of protection around all thoughts that would suggest he is anything other than Normal and Strong and Reliable. Maybe turned on by efficient displays of violence?
Lisa Wilbourn: She is so charming and I am so scared of what's actually going on in her head. I think Taylor's best friend but definitely her biggest enabler. Stop lying and let me know what is going on in your head, I know more about Alec and Rachel than I know about you. Concerned that she's only nominally concerned about Coil being a heinous fucker. Desperately hoping the air can be cleared so I stop worrying about whether she's going to destroy Taylor or something. She has to know Taylor is a wannabe hero.
Alec: The fact that he's really only done one thing that I consider morally in the wrong is kind of incredible when looking at the fact that he's a recovering sex cult enforcer who started living something approaching a normal human life as a homeless preteen. He's had three years to jury rig a sense of humanity and morality mostly on his own and the end result is a selfish lazy jerk, and yet the fact that this is what he's managed to come up with on his own is, without sarcasm, worthy of a fucking prize. He's actually really good at this all things considered. Actually a little bummed that he didn't oppose Coil for the whole Dinah creepfest.
Rachel Lindt: Rachel Lindt is maybe the best character so far. Autistic dog girl who only tolerates human society so she can better feed and care for her animals. I'd say something like "I'd kill for her" but there's no way I could do that any better than her dogs and she'd call me stupid. Only thing against her at this point is the slur usage, which is rough to deal with, but I suspect part of that is just being written in 2011.
Loved Ones
Danny Hebert: You sad bastard. Please survive long enough to reconcile with your daughter. I know he can't provide any material support for the problems his daughter has been dealing with, that the bullies are too well-protected and there's basically nothing that he can do about parahuman shit, but I wish she would allow him to be there for her. Maybe he'd be uncool about it, sure, but maybe not. Makes me sad to think about.
Aisha Laborn: This girl is in dire need of someone to have her back and also, like, pay attention to her; Brian is the closest one to actually doing it but I don't think his best efforts are enough. I know she's gonna be an Undersider in the future so hopefully I get to have a more thorough impression of her, and one that's not marred by the fucking Mercedes metaphor, Jesus Christ that was a rough passage to get through.
Protectorate
Armsmaster: I'd probably like him more if he wasn't so up his own ass about being in charge and earning glory. My suspicion is that he's basically a good guy with some bad habits that nobody can check him on, which has spiraled out of control. Might unironically consider a teenage criminal his nemesis, which is funny but not a great sign of his priorities.
Miss Militia: My prior complaints about her possibly inappropriate response to holding Regent hostage are entirely subsumed by the fact that the last twenty-six years of her life have been lived on terms set by the Protectorate. She was nearly devoured by the machinery of empire and now she's become a component of empire that feeds upon others, and she hasn't even realized it. She never had a goddamn chance.
Velocity: Nothing to really say about him, except there has to have been a way to design his costume so that a teenager with unaugmented strength couldn't take him out with a single blow to the testicles.
Assault and Battery: The name theming feels a bit weird (what, if they got a third would their name be Coercion?) but whatever. I like the idea of a duo with complementary powers, I guess, but there's not really much else here.
Dragon: On the one hand she's in charge of the Birdcage and is friends with Armsmaster, but on the other hand she clearly hates the Birdcage for what it's made her complicit in, and maybe Armsmaster is good to have as a friend. Jury's out, unlike on Canary.
Wards
Gallant: The best way I can think to describe this guy is "blandly nice." It's like if "inoffensive" could be a personality trait. Glory Girl could do better than him, probably, but to be fair she could also do a lot worse.
Clockblocker: I think he's the funny one? Or at least the deliberately unserious one, which is the same thing. The first character confirmed to have developed entomophobia as a result of Skitter, probably not the last. Stopped a bomb from destroying the East Coast which feels like it should get more attention.
Vista: World's most powerful thirteen-year-old. Who deployed her to stop that bomb and fight those Nazis. I want names.
Kid Win: No sense of proportion on this kid, my god. Shooting a laser cannon meant to deal with threats that are theoretically rated higher than Lung into a bank filled with hostages? He's lucky nobody died.
Shadow Stalker: What the actual fuck is going on with her. Who hunts other human beings with broadhead arrows? That's for making someone bleed to death. If she was doing it to the fucking Nazis then that'd be fine, but no, it's Grue and Taylor we've either seen or heard about her getting rough with. Either the Protectorate knows she's a maniac and is letting it rock until she gets herself caught, or else they don't realize what she's doing in which case someone is not doing their job.
Browbeat: Absolute nonentity, to the point it's almost distracting. The description of the bank fight suggests he lost to Regent, which I think means that Regent got close enough to a guy with super strength to knock him out with a taser and didn't get his block knocked off. No wonder the Protectorate wants to trade him out, dude's got nothing going on.
PRT
Director Piggot: I don't like the organization she works for, because the vibes beyond the city level feel rancid, but for Piggot I mostly just sympathize with her. She's trying to corral a bunch of teenagers and adults, who all have some kind of horrific trauma shaping them and also giving them powers that are baseline as dangerous as a fucking gun, into something resembling a fully effective government agency, with no signs of support from the other cities or the higher-ups despite the fact that the literal fucking Nazis have her heroes outnumbered and have apparently had it that way for decades. Let this woman take a vacation or something.
New Wave
Glory Girl: Absolute nerd who seems to love being a superhero, and also making Nazis ragdoll in her spare time. I'd love to end it there, but unfortunately she's got some bad habits; girl desperately needs to kill the cop in her brain and get her impulsiveness under control, the fact that she ragdolled the Nazi on accident and threatened to pull favors in the judicial system to send a first-time offender (and Tattletale) into the Birdcage don't reflect great on her ability to keep a lock on things in high-stress situations.
Panacea: Pathetic girl who is clearly sitting on a pressure cooker of issues. I know what those all are but I'm not going to comment on any of it until we're actually there. For now it's mostly just a pity thing.
Azn Bad Boys
Lung: I was harsh on his characterization at first but I'll admit with time and context I'm not nearly as quick about that. He definitely still sucks, the guy literally murders his lieutenant as a matter of bruised pride and making his life more convenient. Also still cannot shake the feeling that he was basically idling in Brockton Bay for most of his career with the kind of power he has on tap.
Bakuda: She's a monster, but that also kind of oversimplifies things. She's clever, arrogant, grandstanding, and gleefully violent, even as she has the capacity to admire the architecture that another Tinker has crafted and to treat Lung as something resembling a friend. I don't think there's a world where she triggers and is, like, a good person, but I think this was one of the worse lives she could have wound up living. Also, y'know, she's dead.
Empire Eighty-Eight
Kaiser: Rancid smug piece of Nazi shit. Stupid too btw, why are you bothering with street-level robberies and extortion when you own a fucking pharmaceutical corporation? Why are you fighting out in the streets and meeting with other Nazi capes when you could be acting through proxies and bankrolling far-right parahuman cells across the country? Like I'm glad he isn't smart enough to think like that but fuck me.
Purity: Like, actually for real dumb as a bag of hammers. Kaiser barely has to try to wrap her back around his finger and she divorced him; Tattletale barely has to try to get her to back down and she thinks Tattletale exposed her identity to the public. Truly nothing in that skull of hers.
Hookwolf: Nazi capes fuck off
Stormtiger: Nazi capes fuck off
Cricket: Nazi capes fuck off
Rune: Nazi capes fuck off
Night: Nazi capes fuck off
Fog: Nazi capes fuck off
Wait does Coil's gang genuinely not have a name
Coil: Everything about this guy just pisses me the fuck off honestly. He presents himself as some kind of lesser evil, a firm but gentle hand that can guide all facets of the city to a brighter future, but he doesn't have the intelligence or vision to back any of it up; he displays nothing but brute force manipulation tactics involving bribery and blackmail, he's tunnel-visioned and cruel to the point that it ruins his own long-term plans, and before I forget everything about his thing with Dinah gives me fucking hives and I want to beat his skull in with my bare hands. I hope Taylor gets to kill him. Oh, or maybe Dinah.
Nameless sniper: Actively cooler and more competent than Coil.
Travelers
Trickster: genuinely cannot trust a man wearing a top hat in the year 2011, not even as a bit
Sundancer: what the fuck went so wrong with your life that your power is The Fucking Sun
Faultline and Co.
Faultline: Ironically not a super strong read off of her in terms of personality. Seems generally pretty cool going off of how she interacts with and leads her team. Very funny that she has a rivalry with Tattletale.
Newter: Little worried that he's selling his body secretions as a drug to other teenagers but if a parahuman only has one red flag that's pretty good actually
Gregor the Snail: This dude rocks, actually, love the vibes he gives off. Shame that people hate him for being fat and a mutant.
Labyrinth: Would like to see more of her when she's back in reality, otherwise not much to go off of. Cool power.
Other Parahumans
Scion: Fucking creepy
Marquis: probably Panacea's dad, calling that shot.
Paige McAbee: Justice For Paige McAbee.
Dinah Alcott: not really a character yet so much as a particularly horrifying MacGuffin but Jesus Christ what an awful fate
Uber and Leet: Gamers should be more oppressed. Also they beat the shit out of sex workers on a livestream and aren't considered serious enough threats to be consigned to the Birdcage, which feels pretty bad.
Heartbreaker: Haven't even met this guy and he sounds fucking awful. Please god somebody take him down.
Normal Humans
Emma Barnes: I need to understand what's wrong with her. Something happened that gave her the temperament and skillset of a CIA torture technician before freshman year of high school and she turned that onto her best friend for reasons totally unbeknownst to us.
Sophia Hess: I don't know I feel that the one bully who does the most physical harm and acts the most aggressive is the black one. Pretty bad I think. She's also clearly got something going on in her head but tbh that feels like it's going to be more straightforward than whatever is wrong with Emma.
Madison Clements: I feel like she's just here so that Taylor could be bullied without overusing the other two. What's your stake in this? Why do you give a shit? Does it matter? Probably not.
Mr. Gladly: I hated every teacher I ever knew who acted like this and I hate him even more for being utterly useless in protecting a student from blatant harassment. Fuck off.
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Every skill you learn, everything you MAKE, is stairs. You learn one skill and then another and then a third and every larger skill - drawing or painting or sewing or crochet or 3D printing or writing - is made of those steps, like a stair.
Talent is being able to learn some of those steps more easily. And of course sometimes there are barriers - I'm a wheelchair user and there is no ramp to pole vaulting - but it's so important that you remember that's it STEPS.
Especially if you're neurodivergent, because a lot of us have executive dysfunction, which can really fuck up your ability to turn stairs into steps, mentally. And then when you say you can't draw, what you actually mean is you can't climb a flight of stairs in one step.
Sometimes the stairs are in the Goblin King's domain and the way you get from one step to another is a bit different - or sometimes it's just hard to make out what the next step is. But you're building! And similarly, some of your works are just steps, instead of finished stairs on their own. That's okay!!! That's when you tap their imaginary shoulders with your imaginary sword and declare them to be Just A Sketch After All. You're learning how to build the next step, even if you end up tearing it down and starting over.
And it's all like that! Every single project is a flight of stairs! When I started painting with watercolours I didn't know how to layer things or how to blend colours that were wet. But now I know I start a painting and the process of painting is ALSO steps.
It lets you be a little bit more patient with yourself. And it lets you realise that:
A) if you can't immediately skip a bunch of the steps because of talent, doesn't mean you can't build the steps one at a time, and
B) if you CAN skip a bunch of the steps, doesn't mean there's something wrong if you can't skip them all.
I have a huge number of skills. I'm not bragging - I'm autistic and ADHD and I'm like House except my puzzles are how to make stuff (and I work hard not to be an arsehole about it). People always tell me I'm talented. I'm not. Talent means very little or nothing to me, because it's not something you choose or make happen. It's like saying I have brown hair - completely neutral.
What I have instead is hyperfocus, and special interests, and the luxury of access to a community makerspace. I'm in an ideal situation to build stairs.
You can build one flight. It can be crooked, it can be a loop de loop, the stairs can be anything you need them to be. You're the only one who ever has to go up them.
But next time you look at a flight of stairs you've built, or even a stepladder (my daughter would say, "you never knew your real ladder")... And you think it's terrible... Remember that usually means you haven't finished building all the steps yet.
Be the M C Escher you need in your life.
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Spencer Reid x Nonverbal Autistic daughter
Another Spencer Reid oneshot!
Summary: Reader has a meltdown at her Dads work place, Reid helps her through it.
I'm finally writing this so sorry for thr wait!
reader is 10
mentions of a meltdown
Third person pov...
Spencer awoke to his alarm clock, groaning he slammed his hand down on the offending object and sat up, he needed his morning coffee. The Man stretches and gets out of bed, he then makes his way to the kitchen.
As he did he walked past his daughter bedroom, he pocked his head in and saw his 10 year old sleeping soundly with her earplugs in and wrapped in her weighted blanket.
Y/N is Autistic and Non verbal she also has Sensory issues and uses headphones or earplugs when she's sleeping. Spencer smiles softly before closing the door and making his way to make coffee.
Soon he was happily drinking his coffee and and sitting on the sofa reading one of his many books, as he was doing this he didn't hear his daughter coming out from her room.
The 10 year old was still in her pyjamas as it wasn't time for her to get dressed yet, the girl had her tablet with her and her headphones already on.
She sat next to her Dad, who was still reading his book. "Morning Dad" came the computerised voice of her tablet.
Y/N uses many different ways to communicate this is one of them.
She also uses sign language, writing down words, communication cards also sounds. Even if she can't speak she can still communicate most people don't understand but her Dad does since she was a baby he has worked hard for his daughter to have all the support and accommodations she needs.
Spencer doesn't even flinch at the voice a she's familiar to it. The genius looks up from his book. "Morning Y/N, sleep well?" He asks her, the 10 year old nods her head smiling. "I did Dad" came her tablet.
Spencer then put his book down and finished his coffee he looked at the the time and saw it was 7.20 he had 40 minutes till he has to go to work.
"Time to get dressed N/N" he said to his daughter, Y/N nods and stands up the Father and Daughter then walk to their bedrooms to get dressed.
It's part of their routine to get dressed at 7.20 ever Morning. Once Spencer was dressed in his normal clothes he grabs his bag and walks to his daughters room, he knocks of the door.
"You dressed yet N/N?" He asked, he waited for an answer but didn't get one.
So he knocked again, still no answer so he opens the door. "Y/N arw you okay?" He questions as he walks in, when he does he see shis daughter curled up in a ball.
The 10 year old rocks back and forth holding her hands to her head. She was still dressed in pyjamas.
Spencer acts quickly and sits infront of his daughter and holds out his hands. "Hey hey N/N, your okay it's okay, can you hear me?" He asks and Y/N touches his left hand for yes.
Spencer nods "Okay, did something happen?" He asks her Y/N touches his left hand again. "Was it sensory issues?" He asks once again she touches his left hand.
"Do you need pressure?" Once again she touches his left hand, Spencer waits as his daughter uncurls her body, she then looks up at her Dad and leans forward she then sits sideways on his lap.
Spencer wraps his arms around her and squeezes knowing what kind of pressure she needs from him.
The two sit like that for a while before Y/N relaxes completely. She grabs her tablet but stays close to Spencer. "Thank you Dad, I'm okay now" came the computerised voice.
Spencer smiles. "That's good N/N, I'll leave you to get dressed okay, then we can leave your coming to work with me." He says getting a nod from his Daughter he leaves her to finish getting dressed.
Soon the Father and Daughter are ready to leave for Spences work, Spencer is going through his mental checklist, making sure him and his daughter both have what they need, Y/N has her earplugs in, her tablet in her hands and her lanyard that tells people she is Autistic.
"ready to go?" asks Spencer, Y/N looks up at him and nods her head the 10 year old then held out her hand for her dad to take, Spencer smiles and grabs her hand squeezing it, Y/N always needs to hold her Dads hand when they go anywhere it keeps her grounded and comforting to her.
Neither of them like touch but they let it happen if they need it, the duo then leave the apartment and make their way to the FBI academy. As they walk Spencer makes sure that T/N is okay and tries to keep her from brushing up against people knowing she hates it.
When his daughter stops suddenly Spencer is quick to act he covers her with his body and squeezes her hand. she uses her right hand to sign the word for Headphones. Spencer instantly understands and puts her ear defenders on his daughter, he also kisses her forehead feeling her relax once the sounds were gone.
Timeskip...
Y/N gasps when she lays her E/C eyes on the FBI building, shes never been to her dads work place before, funnily enough one of her special interests is Osteology (is the scientific study of bones) and Criminology. She always loves when her dad tells her about his cases, he and his team have.
Spencer has a fond look in his eyes as he watches his daughter eyes widened. he swings their hands this makes the girl tears her E/C eyes away and to her dads face. "ready to meet the team?" his daughter answers him by dragging the man into the building making his laugh out loud at how excited she is.
when they get onto the right floor Spencer has to leave and go to the bathroom, before he leaves he gives Y/N instructions on were his desk is and how to find it. Y/N nods her head and makes her way inside the bullpen, she sees lots of people walking around so she quickly searches and finds her dads desk and sits in his chair.
it is still early so the other members of the team arents there yet, while waiting for her dad to come Y/N starts spinning the chair around and closing her eyes enjoying how it feels, she does this a couple times before someone touches her shoulder.
This makes her flinch and let out a yell, she falls from the chair and in a hurry she crawls away and under the desk, she pulls her knees to her chest and begins rocking herself trying ti self sooth it ends up not working she is too overwhelmed, so she doest the next thing which is thumping her head on the desk.
As the 10 year old cowers under the desk the person who tapped her was freaking out and that person was Derek Morgan, with him was Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi, Penelope Garcia and Aaron Hotchner Spencers team.
Derek is worried he could hear the child thumping her head on the desk but doesnt know what to do the others are just as confused. "what should we do!" yells Derek as the other =s try and think of how they should calm the girl down.
before long their youngest member joins them, he wonders why they others are at his desk before he sees Y/Ns tablet thrown on the floor, his eyes widened and he quickly crouches down and under the table he sees his daughter having a meltdown.
"guys i need you so all step back" he tells them before he sits cross legged in front of his distraught daughter, confused the others do what he tells them, they watch as Spencer sits on the floor infront of the child and begins whispering to her.
10 minjutes later the girl has stopped hurting herself and was now rocking and was alot calmer, Spencer is still whispering to her, the other wait paitently until he comes out from under his desk with the child now asleep in his arms, he looked comfortable holding her.
"who is she Reid?" asks Hotch making the man look up at his boss, Spencer then puts the girl back on his chair, he brushes a hair out of her eyes before anwering. "she is my daughter Y/N Reid, she is 10 years old" he says making everyone shocked they didnt know Spencer had a daughter.
"baby genius has his own kid!" yells Penelope.
Spencer blushes and nods his head. "i do, i only kept her a secret because it would overwhelm her if she met all of you at once just like now, Y/N is Autistic and Non verbal, she doesn't speak but communicates in different ways" he explains, the others nods their heads and listen to Spencer and he rambles on about Y/N.
All six of them can see the love he has for his daughter as she speaks.
the end!
hope you liked this one shot so sorry for the wait! sorry once again for the spelling mistakes and grammar.
requests are open!
word count: 1600
#criminal minds#fanfic#behavioural analysis unit#x child reader#fluff and comfort#x daughter!reader#father daughter fluff#oneshot#spencer reid#spencer reid x daughter!reader#spencer reid x child!reader#x autistic reader#autism#meltdown#nonverbal#x autistic child reader#spencer reid x autistic child reader#light angst#stimming
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why Vivziepop??
I always manage to get bamboozled whenever the antagonist does something that shows that they care/are genuinely concerned or have more to them than “I’m a piece of shit” and then immediately make it blatantly obvious that they’re “ooh bad bad evil I’m a bad guy” LIKE STOP MAKING ME LIKE THE VILLAIN OF THE STORY DAMN IT
like with Mammon asking Fizz if he’s okay he sounded genuinely worried or concerned and then “nope he’s still bad” like HOLY FUCKCKJDJSHSJJAJSBSB
AND Stella just being there to hold her daughter “erm actually she’s being manipulative” STOP DOING THIS TO MEEE
Now I genuinely can’t tell if they’re showing that they’re not just evil and bad or if they’re just manipulative and shitty MAINLY because of the fact that there are so many arguments and both sides have good points
(examples from both sides)
Like for Stella some points I saw were
She wants to comfort her daughter but she’s grinning because her plan to get rid of Stolas worked
She doesn’t care she just wants everything to herself
She’s grinning because she’s a manipulative piece of shit
She showed a hint of genuine concern, maybe she does care about Octavia
and any Mammon fan I’ve seen is just like “make him more than just evil” 😭
but still when I rewatched the episode I thought Mammon showed a hint of genuine concern when he was checking on Fizz, something that didn’t seem like he was acting (his acting voice is WAY more forced)
also something I noticed was the way Mammon let Fizz take a break when all episode he was like “ugh shut the fuck up and smile, profit” even IN PUBLIC so the fact he was like “oh just take a break to get your shit together” even if he was cruel about it was so.. idk.. it kinda made him seem not as dipshitty as he’s made out to be AAUUGGGGGH I HATE HIM
but that just might be me being autistic
also I favorite antagonists and I like when they have more character than just “antagonist bad evil bad bad” PLEASE GIVE YOUR VILLAINS MORE DEMENSION VIV I’M BEGGING YOU
#helluva boss#helluva boss mammon#helluva boss stella#helluva boss fizzarolli#helluva boss octavia#helluva boss analysis#UGHHHH I HATE THEM
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i read in your rereading ena3 post (very good post btw, i enjoyed reading it) that you didn’t like ena4 and im actually kinda curious to know why exactly :0
thank you ☺️
it's hard to explain my feelings about ena4 but i will try my best!!!
the story contents of ena4 are fine, it's the game's framing of it that i don't like. "shinei loved ena deep down" and "ena is more similar to shinei than she thinks" are ideas prsk has been building up to for a while, but this is the first time that's fully explored.
and it's... very strange? ena4 frames these as "ena finally understands shinei and his love for her" rather than "ena finally understands shinei and why he is the way he is". there's a world's difference between understanding the motivations of someone who hurt you (especially a parent) and what made them who they are, vs understanding and appreciating the love and good intent behind harmful actions.
you can do both, absolutely. but ena's story always felt like the former to me. slowly understanding shinei as a person and as a fellow artist but never bridging that gap between them.
the story never outright says that ena has forgiven him or that they're going to mend their relationship, but that seems to be the direction they're going. together with mafuyu5 getting a little too close to asahina papa apologism (yes he cared, no he wasn't there, that's the problem) i don't think i'm wrong about this.
also i just find the "i wanted to stop painting to focus on family when i had a child but after finishing that painting i realised i could never stop" thing really really goofy. maybe because i'm autistic and interpret things differently but i feel like this implies shinei put art above family—something he does very often in stories.
in pale colour, we find out he said what he did because he was talking to ena as a fellow artist, rather than as his daughter in need of support and encouragement. this doesn't change until akito tells him to just look at ena properly.
another moment that's played off as a joke is the shinonome family camping trip, where ena pushed shinei into a lake because he was painting instead of helping them set up the tent. it's funny but it says Something about shinei as a person.
prsk didn't say that this is a shinei redemption story, but considering the fan reaction i would say it probably was. he doesn't even do anything to earn that redemption, only the bare minimum 😭 and it's just a very strange direction to go with ena because... well. that's not the kind of person ena felt like until this point.
i haven't trusted prsk with ena since ena3 lololol and ena5 only proved me right, again. but that's a story for another day (
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TORALEI ANGST LORE DROP???
TORALEIS FINALLY IN FUCKING THERAPY WAHOOOOOO!
NOOOOO ITS FAMILY THERAPY MEANING SHE HAS TO SEE HER FUCKING NIGHTMARE OF AN ABUSIVE ASS MOTHER. IT ALSO PROBABLY MEANS SHES GETTING RETRAUMATIZED NEARLY EVERY FUCKING TIME
COME ON CLAWDEEN WHY ARENT YOU LOVING YOUR GIRLFRIEND?!?!
THE REFORM CENTER FOR BEASTIE BADDIES?!! THE FUCK DID THEY JUST COMBINE JAIL. A MENTAL HOSPITAL. ALCOHOL ANONYMOUS AND CHILD PROTECTIVE SERVICES ALL INTO ONE ?!
ALSO? CATARINAS ALIVE? THATS UH? Not bad I guess? This is literally the first confirmation we’ve gotten that she survived the finale. So uh. That’s good I guess. Somewhat. HAHA ALOWS ME TO TORTURE TORALEI MORE IN FANFICS HAHAHAHAHAH!
I’m literally in love with this so fucking much. But really. Come on. The society could do better. Get toralei in individualized therapy. Catarina should be in rehab WAY longer then she’s been before they even initiate such type of conjoined therapy. Operating under basic guidelines. They can allow supervised visits between mother and daughter but they shouldn’t be in something like therapy till the mom’s somewhat proven/served time that allows them to see she’s headed on the right path. Not to mention they’d BOTH be in individualized therapy as well. It wouldn’t just be family therapy like this. Also. I love that Toralei got to stay at the Wolfs house. But??? What the fuck was CPS thinking? They’d never put a child with a random family who has no foster care license when she has ALIVE AND WELCOMING NEXT OF KIN. Toralei literally could have stayed with the weretwins and her aunt/Uncle. Like??? The cousins ADORE her! (Too a concerning agree. Don’t get me wrong I love their relationship. But Persephones treating dissapointing toralei like it’s life or death. I could somewhat understand that panic for a parent. But it’s somewhat unhealthy for a cousin. Although it’s not completely odd. I know I’d be destroyed if I ever dissapointed my older cousin who I look up too. I feel like it’s somewhat like that?)
Anywho. I LOVE how supportive Meowlody and Pursephony are with toralei and family therapy. They don’t judge her. And they don’t judge their aunt. Just tell her to say hi for them. They offer unwavering support and with how much Toraleis currently getting I’d say it’s dearly needed.
also. Not related but I LOVE Meowlody having adhd. I have adhd and I connected with her SO FUCKING MUCH in this episode. Jsut in this clip. Her volume control and excitement about the ‘wrong things’ just is so relatable. Her being confident but also somewhat not confident about a list of tasks. Practically begging her sister to realize she really did listen but it’s so hard to remember and things get confused and to show that we DO have good memory! We just see it in different ways! God. Amazing. My only thing is I wish she would have audibly confirmed it. Like we know they had Twyla verbally say she’s autistic. Why couldn’t they do that for adhd? It’s odd but I’ve never actually seen it verbally stated in tv before.
anywho uh- I’m gonna be writing so much fucking toralei angst so yall should be on the lookout!
AND YO THAT OPERETTA GENERATION ONE REFERENCE WAS UNHINGED I LOVE IT
And yo was that a hint of FUCKING YARN SALT AKA MEOWLODY X BARKIMEDES I SAW???
#monster high#toralei stripe#clawdeen wolf#cleo de nile#draculaura#frankie stein#toradeen#lagoona blue#meowlody#purrsephony#purrsephone#meowlody and purrsephone#operetta#abbey bominable#heath burns#heath x abbey#howleen wolf#barkimedes
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extremely candid, tell-all thoughts about sacrifice and familial codependency, potentially emotional incest, mentions of abuse
I have watched sacrifice become the root of all suffering, but sacrifice has become cemented as a vicious cycle with no clear path of escape as its own result.
How can I dare to place judgment or blame on my mother? A woman who gave up so much of herself in service to her disabled husband and disabled child. I watched her, when I was growing up, working up to 80 hours a week, sometimes I would stay up all night with her at the office and feel bewildered and exhilarated from exhaustion. For me it was an adventure, for her it was obligation and I can hardly imagine how she felt. Its evidence of her incredible fortitude. While she worked this hard, she was also solely responsible for taking care of the home, taking care of a significantly autistic daughter, and taking care of a negligent, drug-addicted, manipulative husband. She also hit me almost every day.
When my parents met, my father was in his early 30s (to my mother's mid-20s) and he was dying of late-stage congestive heart failure. He had 6 months to live. He lived in absolute squalor, working part-time doing something or another to do with printing signs, in spite of having a business degree, while my mom was a homeowner and worked full time in a finance position despite not having a college education. On their first meeting, my mom gave him advice on how to better maintain his long hair that he grew out to his waist but didn't wash or take care of. She was not particularly interested in him until she found out he was dying. My mom attached herself to the idea of future-widow, secretly, finding a promise of eternal validation in martyrdom. They married after 6 months and she played the role of dutiful wife; she moved him into her home, she navigated the medical system for him, she and her own mother kept him fed and comfortable, she paid for his increasingly experimental and niche treatments, and she sat at his bedside in the Mayo Clinic, both loving him and privately waiting for his death.
He didn't die. I was conceived shortly after the heart transplant. She wanted to leave him when he went back to using drugs, feeling that it was an act of disrespect to her, to her family, and to the young man who was his organ donor. She decided that leaving wasn't an option, due to the extent he depended on her. He also refused, by threats and by stubbornness, to let her leave.
The next best thing to being a widow is to be a martyr. She conceded to letting him never go back to work, and she began working longer and longer hours and striving harder. His job was to take care of me and the home. For him, this was a free ticket to eternal adolescence; for my entire childhood if he wasn't verbally abusing me he was locked behind a door, in his private room, getting high and watching either the news or Adult Swim or old concert videos on TV. He resented my natural neediness as a young child, and said to me, quantifiably more than he said anything else, "the next time you need something, I won't be there for you", and he stuck to his word. In my memory, I can't remember a single time he reacted to my needing something with anything more than complete disdain, by waving me off with his hand. He would sleep for most of the day and sometimes forget to pick me up from school. He would not sacrifice one moment of comfort for anything in the world - he is pathologically incapable of it. My mom, on top of working as much as she did, solely took care of keeping the home clean, attending to my needs, and attending to him. Again, she also hit me almost every day and openly despised me until I was an adult.
They never divorced, even though I begged her to. She would always say to me, "he wouldn't be able to survive on his own". He doesn't require around-the-clock medical care; what she meant is that he doesn't possess basic life skills. He never learned how to use the internet, does not manage his doctor's appointments, has never cleaned anything, and has never submitted a job application for himself. My mom handles all of this. When he did finally get a job, part-time at a casino, my mom delivered him lunch every day.
Once when I was really little, maybe a 2nd grader, I wrote a set of comics while at school, "My Mom is Busy!" and "My Dad is Lazy!" where I drew her going to work and him laying in bed. I wasn't trying to be mean, I was trying to depict my life. When he saw them, he insisted that I'd done it to humiliate him by lying.
For my entire life, I've watched my mom run from herself by dissolving into service to others. She dissolved her own will in service of him, by overworking, and taking on charitable volunteering on top of it. The older I get I simultaneously gain more respect for this, and more grief. I think that amount of sacrifice is a type of escape, and a type of bargaining, and a type of groveling. I think its a cycle in which she wants to do anything possible to try to prove the slightest bit of worth in herself, because she doesn't feel she has it inherently.
My entire childhood she talked horribly about herself and called herself fat and ugly even though she's always been objectively beautiful. We often dieted together and I liked it because it seemed like it made her happy in some way. I think I carry every part of her pathology, replicated into me.
Self-martyrdom is trying to outrun yourself, to displace pieces of yourself into other people, trying to force others to being your mirror, all the while making it less and less likely. It's implicitly a humiliating insult. It's implicitly dehumanizing to everyone involved. I can never dislike my mother, because you can't help but love and admire someone who faces adversity by giving more and more. I have eternal, bottomless love for her that's only made stronger by the contrast with my father, who responded to adversity by making it everyone else's problem, by being entitled and ungrateful, for feeling like heaven and earth were owed to him for absolutely nothing.
As my mother's daughter I become a martyr inherently by loving her. I want to be that perfect mirror, I want her to see the good in herself in me, instead of seeing "proof" of her perceived insufficiency. Sacrifice inherently makes you look to others to know who you are. I know firsthand that when you sacrifice yourself for a weaponized-incompetent partner, you see yourself as a subhuman, you see that nothing you can do is good enough. And it goes on permanently and you become more twisted and monstrous in your own eyes the less and less you're "appreciated". It's about the self, but it feels like overly simplistic pop-psych to call it narcissism proper. Focus on Self is displaced entirely on caretaking the Other. In this kind of sacrifice, you erase yourself and become a sacrificial object. My mom isn't a narcissist, she's completely invisible to herself. My dad is blatantly a narcissist. On top of all of this, he degrades her for her tastes and preferences and requires everything be done in accordance to his own. She is not able to watch tv shows, listen to music, etc without his open judgment, mockery, and condemnation.
But is it not narcissistic to think you can save anyone from their own decisions? Making yourself a sacrificial (thereby holy, superior, not-human) object in service is still believing you're capable of the impossible. She would have been lucky if he died. I wish he could have died even though it means I wouldn't have been born. I would sacrifice myself for her.
I struggle to break the cycle because it would be betraying her.
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Anya's background!
Hello! I am so excited to talk about my latest oc, my beloved Anya! She is paired with Laios, and a part of me is interested in possibly writing about what it would be like with her in the party! For this post I’ll tell y'all about some background info on her, I'll have a separate post most likely about her relationship with the party and specifically Laios. The first picture is an art commission I got made by Jaijiggles on Instagram! Check them out! The end of the post sketch is made by myself!
Some basic things before delving in deeper
Her full name is Anastasia, but she prefers being called Anya. She's not even fully sure why, but it makes her happy.
Her parents are both elves, meaning she is an elf, but they also became poly when she was an adult! So she has a second mom, a human woman who fell in love with her mother mainly but also loves her father very much as well. Very healthy relationship.
Her Nana is a dwarf that isn’t blood related who lived with her and helped teach her everything she knows as well as her parents.
Anya was raised in the north, not the west, and with her influences, she grew up having general respect and admiration for all races and not just her own.
She is autistic! Her main special interest is nature and animals, having such a general love and respect for all living creatures, including monsters.
Her special interest and because of her influences in her life, she would learn what she could to become a druid mage! She also handles healing, much like her Nana, but she offers a bit more offense with her magic mainly. Including being able to transform into animals.
Despite being brief childhood friends, it was that friendship that pushed her to bask in her passions despite what outsiders may say or think.
Because as pretty as she may look, she would be classified as weird(yet she’s literally just autistic lol) that she grew to learn how to mask when around strangers a bit more, before she was reunited with her previous childhood friends when they arrived at the same island she had moved to not too long ago.
With them, she felt like she could freely be herself without judgment, and they could honestly say the same towards her.
She could be best comparable to a rabbit, which is also one of her many favorite animals.
She really loves fruits and veggies, and honestly she really isn’t a picky eater at all.
She also really wasn’t opposed to eating monsters either, sure it’s odd, but if dungeons have their own sustaining ecosystems.. It had to be alright to benefit from something like that? And Laios was right! She supported him full-heartedly, trying to appease the other’s about their skepticism. Especially Marcille.
It’s hard for her to pick a favorite monster, she absolutely loves Senshi’s cooking, but one of her favorite treats was the ghost sorbet, and dragon meat really is one of her favorites as well.
Background
Anastasia is an elf, yet she grew up raised in the north rather than the west.
Before I move onto anything else, I’ll talk about her parents! Her mother is a powerful mage, even used to work with the royalty of the elves. Her father mainly focused on combat, his favorite weapon being his trusty bow and arrow. Both elves that lived in the West for a long time, but they felt themselves growing disdain with the treatment of other races from the elves point of view. Her mother always liked tallmen/women, and thought the races were just as brilliant in their own shared ways (she is neurodivergent, which did pass down to her daughter) and her father found himself sympathizing with her views.
So what did they do? They decided to leave, heading to the North where they would join an adventurer’s party together to make more of a living. The party had become a bit of a found family in a way, and her mother was particularly close with a dwarven female named Mirja.
They had a good life together that way for a while until it was discovered that she was pregnant. It was a bit of a wake up call for the couple, that perhaps after the adventures they shared, the biggest one they’d have to tackle was parenthood, and they wanted to do it away from the dangers of the life they lived for a while now.
So they would leave the party, but they wouldn’t leave empty handed. Mirja would insist on coming with them, that they would need all the help they could get. Dungeons and fighting monsters were one thing, but parenthood? She knew they needed the extra hands. With that, they would travel more north to try to find a home.
There they found a place to live, and they had their daughter, Anastasia!
They would raise her there for a long time, but when she got older they would eventually have to leave her childhood home due to unfortunate circumstances, which had an ex party member suggest a certain village to live near temporarily with some of that party member’s family there.
Anya’s family found themselves staying near the same village that Laios and Falin Lived in. From the elf girl’s wandering around until coming across the siblings. Despite being there for a short time, she had spent so much of her time with them both, being each other’s real first friends. Their friendships were something that Anya held close to her heart and cherished deeply, they had such a deep impact on her that she held onto into her adulthood.
She had so many good memories with them, that it really was devastating for the three of them when she had to leave. She wished that she could see them again one day, and she vowed to herself that she would come back to the village in the future if necessary.
Her family found their new proper home on a farm, and from there the young elf would continue to learn from her family. She was essentially home-schooled, learning from her mother and her mage work as well as from Mirja who was a druid-cleric.
For years, she was so dedicated to her work that once she left home she would move to start with taking on jobs to help her get experience.
They weren’t crazy jobs, but it was enough for her to try to ‘learn’ to be normal and get better with her magic. Years passed like this, her moving between groups and people, until she would finally move to the Island. It’s on that island, when staying in inns that she would come across two newcomers to the island one day. It was Laios and Falin!
After being reunited with them, they would of course decide to all move in together so they could be able to afford someplace decent while also starting to take on work together!
They eventually would join their first party together with Shuro, Namari, Chilchuck, and Marcille, leading to the events we all know.
I think I'll end this right here before it gets too long! I hope you all are having a great rest of your day/night!
#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#oc x canon#ali ocs#dungeon meshi oc#dungeon meshi oc x canon#laios touden#laios x anya#ocs#original character#fanart#ali art#dungeon meshi x oc#laios touden x oc
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