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plasticfangtastic · 2 years ago

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American Royalty ch. 5

A Homelander X F! Reader and Dadlander fic.

A/N: prev. chapters available in my pin post, if ya like to be added to my taglist feel free to drop a comment with a request. I wanted to post this tomorrow but yeah am a liar with ADHD UwU.

Tags: mild gore, angsts, lots of angst, slow burn, fluff, oc characther, child neglect, dadlander, romance... i guess i should also say unhealthy/toxic relationship.

Chapter five

Thick lines.

Ryan and Helena were exhausted, most of the obstacle course had been partially destroyed, the walls damaged quite severely, and the ceiling was dented, Homelander had learned two things: 1) Ryan holds back too much– too afraid to harm, too afraid to break things, too afraid of his own powers as if they would come right-back around and harm him, and 2) Helena’s forcefield could take a beating, it had taken Ryan quite a bit of rage for it to start cracking, the girl continued to taunt hi, calling him inept, throwing insults without care before it cracked down.

She had learned her limits, making notes for future reference.

So here he was putting pressure on her arm, as she bled profusely.

Ryan was crying blaming himself, while Homelander took her to the labs. The girl didn’t cry much, seemingly just angry, only wincing as her father squeezed her arm with curses in her lips.

You had run out of the kitchen, guards refusing you entry to the labs, while you demanded entry Homelander had emerged and ordered them to step aside, throwing daggers at them as he took your hand.

You cried as you saw the bandages on her arm, you cried harder when she wrapped her arms around you, bawling and shaking underneath them.

Homelander calmly explained that she ended up with twenty stitches and some blood transfusion, but she was fine, no bone had been touched and her body was healing slowly.

You barely listened.

When was the last time you saw her cry? She was a quiet baby, a perfect baby, by the time she could talk, crying seemed redundant when she could simply spell it out for you.

“What did you do!?” You picked your child, retreating from him– I fucking qu–

“It was my fault…” Ryan said drying his sobs– I’m sorry.”

“It was an accident. The kids got a little heated during training… I should’ve stepped in earlier.”

Homelander took Ryan under his arm.

You stared at the kid, then back at your own.

“Helena did you–” You stroke her back– Sorry that my daughter antagonized you… It won’t happen again.”

Your voice was quiet, unable to look at either child.

“Let’s go get your stuff. My apologies, Homelander but I won’t be able to continue my work today. She won’t be a cause of future concern…” You wanted to quit and leave this tower forever.

He lets you go, no doctor tried stopping you either, but you wouldn’t let your daughter stay at Vought, a nurse informed you to come back to change the bandages in two days but you rather take her to an actual hospital.

You looked at him knowing he was going to come around.

Coffee already on the stove and biscuits on the table already waiting for him.

“How is she?” He was genuine.

“She says it's too itchy… but her arm is alright.” you scratch at your head.

“You look tired.”

“I haven’t slept for almost a decade… that’s just my face now.”

“You didn’t quit.” He sat beside you on the big round-table, turning pale as you saw him sit on his cape, his eyes reddened as he tried to look calm– are you quitting?”

“I dunno. Helena can be pretty abrasive. I’m sorry your son fell for it, she doesn’t mean it… she just thinks that people are going to be cruel, so she’s cruel first.”

“Why?” He presses taking a quick glance at the livingroom and the misplaced toys.

“Try being in a classroom full of teenagers and be the smartest one in the whole room, they just see a smug midget who thinks she’s better than anybody else– they’re mean… kids in general are mean… but she eventually just scares them enough… there were other kids she’d hurt, nothing too severe.”

You stayed in silence not knowing if you should ask him to leave or not. If you should let him be privy of those events.

“She knows.”

“You!”

“She either figured it out or used her powers to find out.” He rested his elbow on the table stroking his tired eyes– I didn’t tell her but she would’ve noticed there was something going on.”

You yawned, taking a couple sips of coffee as he copied you. The silence unbearable and your eyes heavy and aching, gawking at him made you think of her.

“Your eyes and lips are identical.” That was an unusual smile on your face– when she was born that was the first thing I noticed, the second was that mop of hair on her head… she had so much hair and it was so long, but those were your eyes… sadly, you know I always thought your nose was your best feature but she got mine.”

You stood up asking him to follow you to the living room with a finger, taking a seat on the same sofa you refused to throw away.

“Tell me about her… Becca never had the chance… I cleaned that house and found pictures and trinkets, but without the stories I can only speculate. I don’t know his first words, the first time he walked, his first time riding a bike… I don’t know anything. She never wanted to tell me.” He leaned closer, his hand close to yours but never touching– Ryan is sorry, he was quite shaken.”

“Her first word was ‘morning’.” You spoke wanting to indulge, wanting to seem better for some reason.

You told him stories, there had been a time when you fantasized sharing all these moments with him, when you were younger and stupider. When you two began to get too serious, when he had called you baby, darling and honey with genuine affection, when you watched him sleep and caressed his hair awake. You’d dreamed of drinking wine while your kids slept by his side at one point and in this forced intimacy you could be as deluded as he was just in case he was holding something nefarious over your head.

You let him know about her silly things, about her first love… the chemistry set you bought her when she was five. About how she lived in their local library and everybody knew her by name, about how some of the kids expected her to become Brooklyn’s finest, about her hatred of pistachio and strong emotions about bird keeping.

You never expected to talk to him like this after everything, but today has been a rollercoaster and you simply hadn't been in you to fight, not now when your daughter knew, you were doing this to yourself so you couldn’t fight it, you gave him morsels and crumbs because you had no one to talk about this things.

“Is Ryan alright?” You asked leaning away from him, the night was so dark and only the kitchen in the back lit the house– it must’ve been so scary.”

“He was pretty shaken. Took me a lot to get him to stop crying…”

“Helena won’t hold any grudges… I think… I got an idea… has Ryan ever been to Coney Island? Maybe we can take the kids to the boardwalk, have hotdogs and hit the aquarium, Helena will not misbehave in there.” You put your empty cup on the coffee table– they can make up.”

He gave you a tired smile, knowing he had to head home soon but wanting to talk some more.

“Are you angry at her?” He asks weakly.

“She would’ve hurt Ryan. I figured out she was forcing him to attack when you said things got a little heated, that’s how she dealt with bullies in the past.” you looked him straight in the eyes– I am upset.”

He found a way to touch your hand, giving it a light squeeze.

“Don’t be… I think Ryan would like the aquarium, he’s never been.” He seemed ashamed of that statement.

“Remember when we used to sneak out to Central Park?” You said suddenly with a chirp in your voice.

“Those were long nights.” He dares give you a flirty look.

“No… those handful of times where we went during daytime… ditch the suit… more witnesses, more likely to behave.”

You tried ignoring those sharp fangs, he was so good looking still and it had been so fucking long since you got laid, being forced to remember him, to interact with him, to let him touch you… some people like to be used… Helena had said it best, and in this nice house he bought you, and the nice stuff he got you all around you, you remember what he was trying to get out of you, and that was to play a role.

At the doctor’s office, Helena cried a lot when the doctor took her stitches out, it had taken a day to heal but she was left with a gnarly scar.

“Phantasma” You sit next to her while she eats some ice cream, she really did not like getting the stitches out, the visit had reduced her to an actual little girl, even after her words were incoherent, skipping words as she cried all the way out to the ice cream shop, Helena’s skin was hard not like her fathers but it was near impossible to penetrate it with a needle, forced to proceed without real anesthesia– sounds better than ‘Ghost Girl’, no?”

She looked up.

“Sounds cool. Why?” she sniffed hard.

“Your father did ask about it…”

“Huh?”

“Honey. He told me you figured it out. How?”

She licked her ice cream cone, as you tucked her under your arm. Scooting her closer on the park bench.

“I used Elmo to break into his apartment. I turned us both invisible and I went up there.” You pulled on her ear– ouch!”

“Helena!”

“He’s been following us for weeks!” you let her go– I was curious as to what he was doing… I was suspicious of his intentions, found the paperwork in his office and played stupid for a couple days.” She handed you her slobbered cover ice cream– Is not appropriate for a grown man to be following little girls.”

“You shouldn’t use Elmo like that!”

“You aren’t mad I broke into his house?” She looked perplexed.

“Nah… I could have given you the passcode it's the first thing they gave me when I started work. Don’t involve the kid!” You took a bite– Jesus Helena! You being invisible is hard enough… I don’t want you ending up like Translucent! Guy was so mentally ill.”

“You knew translucent?” her ear perked up.

“He would walk around naked in the bathrooms– I’ll explain to you when you’re older, honey.” you handed the ice cream back, your lips tight under your teeth– I knew your father for three years… So I got to meet some of The Seven. Either way leave the kid alone and for all intents and purposes you never told me about the stalking…”

“You got something in mind?”

“We’re going to play his game. You’re his daughter… so that tower should be yours, no?”

“There’s my older brother to worry about, too.”

“He’s just a little boy, riding thru life with only nepotism as his anchor” You stroke her hair pushing her bangs away from her beautiful eyes– but he’s not you.” You leaned into her ear– you are my daughter.”

Her smile was sickly sweet.

Here you were waiting for him at the entrance of the boardwalk, when you felt a light touch on your shoulder.

He looked uncomfortable and maybe too dressed up for the occasion, you took the lapel of his suit jacket. It was the nicest fabric you’ve touched in your entire life, surprised to see his hair not as gel-up and his eyes hiding behind versace sunnies.

“Did you raid Kendall Roy’s closet? I swear I saw this jacket in season 3.”

“Is a good show.” he laughs looking painfully stiff, his eyes moving rapidly behind his lenses– and yes.”

“Wait, is this actually from the show?”

“I just said yes.”

Your mouth dropped slightly, but you did like the feel of the jacket.

“You’re more Shiv.”

“Not Logan I hope?”

You snorted in horror, your daughter pretended to be confused by his appearance trying not to look at Ryan, who looked like a deer in front of a hummer.

“Are you doing okay, little guy?” You asked, making sure to lift his hat playfully– Ever had a Nathan’s glizzy? Is an institution.”

The kid looked so shy.

“No, I never had one…” He was one bad word away from sobbing.

“Is okay. My arm is all good again” Helena's adult size hoodie had a big enough collar for her to pull down and reveal nothing but a scar– I am not mad at you. It was an accident… Besides, you can’t be a supe if you’re afraid of getting boo-boos.”

Ryan seemed more shaken than anything, but before he could do his best sad little orphan boy impression, Helena took his hand and dragged him forward, telling him that he needed to try Nathan’s before doing anything, rambling about how good they are, and that she couldn’t wait to see the Aquarium.

Both you and Homelander stood a few steps behind as your daughter gave the kid no time to rest.

“She’s always been this pushy?” He whispered into your ear.

“She just found out that’s her brother… She's a tad excited.”

“You had the talk? Without me!?” He looked upset, staring at his kids with a bit of bitterness.

“I was ambushed. I swear to god you need to figure out a weakness with her damn bubble.”

“What's the limit before she runs out of oxygen?” he asks.

“1 minute and 46 seconds is her personal best.” you whispered back.

“What did you tell Helena was happening today?” He wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you close.

“That it was a play-date, to try to mend the situation… after all she instigated it.” You leaned against him tugging on his jacket with a cheeky smile– not whatever you were thinking this was… now… get your hand off my ass, John.”

“I told you. I have a story to sell. Both kids are in the same school, now they can start being friends and she knows I’m her dad. Let’s just skip to the good part.”

“You want to pretend we are dating?” If your teeth could separate and let you talk with ease, you would bite his nose off before finishing your next sentence– Did you run that past your team? Sure I wouldn’t rank higher than Maeve or Starlight in the fake girlfriend department… I think even Taylor would rank better… she did make a great single out of you.”

He cringed at that comment.

“You’ll do great in the fake mother department– The team has concocted something extra juicy, a real page turner. Way above Hallmark channel christmas movies, we are talking award circuit instead.”

You both did that fake little laugh that sounded more like a growl as your kids turned around after spotting the white, green and yellow hot dog restaurant.

As Helena headed to the line, with Ryan in tow. You played your role, Helena would have what she deserves– if he wanted to force you and her into his life, you were going to wrap those chains so tight around his neck, he would forget he ever lived without it.

Your mouth met his for a brief moment, startling him enough that his hand left your hips, he was left stuck in place as you went after the kids.

The breeze tousled his hair, as you looked back at him with a saddened smile.

“I haven’t forgiven you… but I want to give you a second chance… I want to put all those things behind us… if you are going to be here for her– for us.” You whispered from afar out of your kids reach as Helena took your wallet, knowing full well he was listening attentively– I’ve missed you. Even if I don’t want to admit it.”

The seagulls squealed as he took his place beside you, wrapping his arm again around your waist just to kiss you yet again.

The moment Helena saw a fish tank it was game over. All her ‘Wednesday’ facade had melted as she became an over excited amateur marine biologist, giving his eldest no time of rest as she explained as many animals she could to the child, he had learned an awful lot about corals and kelp as they moved from exhibit to exhibit, admittedly Ryan was having fun, hanging out with other kids as school had been a bit difficult, his socialization skills were poor from years of isolation and homeschooling but this was nice.

Homelander could only see a kodak moment ruined by the myriad of The Deep billboards staring at him.

It was a bizarre game of stealth kisses happening behind the kids, he was starving for you, a desire he had put down in the cellar and today he found again, excited to play this game with you.

Wanting to feel your comfort, happy that you took his offer, now he only had to tell Ryan.

As you left for the bathroom he was left alone with the two kids, Ryan fixated on some animals and his mind elsewhere when Helena pulled at his sleeve.

“You look like you want to rip your skin off.”

“I don’t usually wear clothes like this?” he says politely– what about you? Why are you wearing that giant hoodie again? Don’t you own other stuff?”

It was big enough for an adult, her sleeves had been rolled up quite a bit and its length still touched her knees making her appear shorter than she already was, this had been the fifth time he had seen her in this fit, she wore black hoodies most of the times on top of her normal clothes– cheap thrifted clothes and hand-me downs somethign that irked the man; But this ridiculous hoodie seemed to be a favorite. The newest and nicest thing she owned was a pair of A-T Force 1, it pissed him off to watch her wear those shoes– why worship that fat slob when her father was the fucking Homelander! he thought.

“Is really nice… found it in an old box mother had with her while we were living in one of her cousin’s garage.” She stretched her arm urging the man to have a feel of the soft cotton fabric– She didn’t wanna throw it away ‘cuz she could sell it but I ended up wearing it a lot. I like it.”

The fabric was worn down but it was evidently of good quality, he spun the little girl around as he looked at the size tag, only to see the name of the brand… Brunello, his eyes widened as he noted that this hoodie easily cost over 1000 dollars, but as the girl glared at him a light sob escaped his lips as his eyes tingled– this had been his sweater.

Of the few items of clothes he had owned over the years, he knew this was his.

In those secret dates in central park and escapes to Paris and Seoul, where he was forced to hide who he was just so you two could hold hands without causing a scene, he had bought this, you liked it enough to steal it from him from time to time.

Homelander had become John Gillman for you, he had never needed a secret identity before he met you, not even mulling on the idea for long. He only had to be the Homelander, but he had become a mild-mannered executive named Mr. John Gillman, to be with you– forcing himself to wear strange clothes and mingle with lowborn folks, just to hold your hands and kiss you.

This stupid hoodie that he had ordered an intern to buy only to arrive a size too big, that had gone missing years prior, now stood here wrapping his daughter.

“How did you find out about me?” He asks with shaky lips.

“After you showed up at Lucci’s… thought it was weird that you showed up at my house not long before… I suspected you knew my mom, and after she told me that she worked at Vought. Well, I looked at her resume and did some math. I only really began to suspect it after you broke into my house” She raised her chin– you left the window open by two inches, not enough to matter but enough for me to notice as I always leave them close all the way… you left my hairbrush in the sink’s and not the trolley. Why would you touch my hairbrush? Wonder what you could get out of it…”

The little shit turned around to spot her brother still admiring the clover reef while they waited for you.

“I was taking a gamble when I called you a ‘deadbeat’, dad.”

Homelander's heart skipped a beat when her mouth uttered the word, unsure if she was mocking him or otherwise, from her it was hard to tell.

“You don’t want him to know about me, right?” Her voice was quiet, a knot buried itself in her throat.

“What? No!” He said in a panic, getting on one knee to see her eye-to-eye– Helena… I … I want us to be a family, Ryan will understand but I have to wait… he’s not like you or me… he’s… sweet.”

She looked away squishing her little fist, hiding her beautiful kyanite stones behind those long bangs, his hand lifted her hair, trying to peek further into those beautiful skies, feeling the creamy skin under his palm, her warmth as her cheeks turn a new shade of pink.

“You’re my daughter… my blood… I am sorry… I was… I was an asshole for what I did, but I just want to be there for you now… so If I can… you can call me ‘Dad’ if you like.”

His voice quivering as he spoke, she was frail, he could feel it under his touch, how easy it would be for him to hurt her.

Little girls were to be handled with much more care, dainty things they were, she was a peony blooming in his hands, so he had to be soft and strong for her. she rested her cheek against his hand, his so warm and soft, surprised at the way he looked at her-- there was a twinkle of desperation behind his gaze.

She rested until her eyes didn’t sting anymore.

As you left the bathroom, you spotted the curious scene, biting at your lips as your guilt finally catched up to you, you didn’t need it, you would not allow yourself to be harmed but as you saw your daughter play her role, you knew… she would be lost inside the character… She was a lonely child, deprived of you and without him ever in the picture... she had a weakness.

You let them mingle from afar as they walked around towards some river exhibition, while Ryan made his way towards the duo, their hands intertwined as he turned calling for his boy.

For a moment you saw a glimpse of the life you always wanted… Revenge was a nasty game… could you really play it? You wondered as you fixed your clothes.

Before you could say anything, your sight followed a faceless passerby.

A service dog in tow.

The passerby had simply bumped into Helena, the dog had been just close enough, you didn't worry immediately, she had gotten used to dogs and you were certain she had been good and taken her allergy meds.

You were sure.

Helena turned but it was too late.

With a single sneeze the gates had opened.

The walls rumbled, as the pale blue wave of sharp wavering light exploded out of her body.

Everybody swallowed a shared gasp, as the glass began to crack.

taglist: hope y'all like the chapter @fromforeigntofamiliarity @immyowndefender @demodemo909

#Homelander #Homelander x reader #Homelander x you #the boys oc #american royalty #personal #my fic tag #the boys fanfiction #homelander fanfic #homelander x F! Reader #I have so much energy right now and am riding the high.#barely proofread so sorry for any spellign errors

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silversiren1101 · 8 months ago

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My therapist had an emergency and had to cancel on me this week, so I need to write down my thoughts before the ADHD void eats them. This one is a little raw.

There are so many sites and papers and resources about how trauma leads to hypersensitivity and how to be gentle and respectful of such victims, but I can never and have never found anything on how the same trauma can lead to you not being able to handle hypersensitive people at all--which sucks because it reminds me so much of the classic sucky case of incompatible autism quirks.

Growing up gaslit (literal actual definition) by my parents well into my early adulthood by being blamed for everything a sibling did, abused and punished for things they thought I said or did (no a sneeze is and never has been a laugh and even if it was does it warrant screaming yourself hoarse at a child), and told again and again I was born wrong and make people miserable and the reason I don't understand why is because I'm Evil (again, a child)... is it any surprise really that I get extremely angry around the flavor of sensitive person that by-default assumes the worst intent or thoughts in those around them?

Is it not the same thing? The assumption that I've done something bad or malicious that I have not and would not ever do? Overly apologetic people that compulsively apologize for even the most innocent things, posts/comments that exude those vibes or seem to be asking for permission to do things in their own space (why are you asking others stop putting this responsibility on someone else you're an adult), etc out of fear that they will be found annoying/make someone mad/literally explode and die. You know the type. Anyone you have to walk on eggshells around.

And DUH I know it's not personal, that's the worst part! Obviously it isn't! This is their own issues manifesting as a defense mechanism/desperation for acceptance just as I have my own, BUT it does unfortunately become a self-fulfilling prophecy because now I AM angry and annoyed as hell because an assumption of bad intent/faith has been made of me without any evidence (even though I am but a silhouette in a bigger crowd and it is not a direct personal thing in the slightest) and whoops that's my main trigger! Like oopsie (hypothetical) the killswitch is turning on and I'm seething because someone apologized for "being annoying" one too many times even though literally no one has said anything suggesting anything of the sort which means they surely see me as some sort of malicious horrific monster that hates them because why else would they assume such a thing when you wouldn't assume that of normal chill people you're cool with! Except no, of course they don't see you that way, it's just anxiety/trauma/whatever talking, please be more patient with them, etc etc.

To which I say Sure! Of course! I'll try my best! I understand completely!

Patience for me though? Asking them to (in the kindest gentlest way) to meet me halfway and accommodate me back in return by easing up on the constant apologies and assuming by default I want to hear from them and about them and want only good things for them?

Suddenly that's an impossible ask. I'm being callous just asking for that, you can't just ask sensitive people to "toughen up"! So it's expected of you to just keep face-tanking repeated triggers over and over again as you grit your teeth and try your best (ie "toughen up"). All the while you're working so hard to heal so you won't deal with this stupid fucking trigger anymore that makes you viciously angry at fellow abuse victims/anxious folks with different defense mechanisms... bonus points of course if they aren't trying to get better themselves while you're certainly expected to and demanded to because you have the "weird/wrong/less talked about" trigger and response.

It's just, unfortunate. It's an unfortunate incompatibility. It fucking sucks actually. I wish there was more in the way of resources and conversations for people like me, but I can't find any. It's so isolating and it only feeds into my detachment and dissociation tendencies more so that I don't have moments like this (concurrently making me feel everything less and care about nothing anymore).

And it's especially unfortunate because tumblr is a really bad place at times for me because of it. Most of the time it doesn't affect me (high mental health times, logic wins out). When it does, I try my best to simply not respond or acknowledge in any way the posts and content that turns me into a snarling snapping beast for the stupidest reasons (oh, someone apologized too many times in their tags or post on their own blog for whatever anxious reason and now I want to tear their throat out). I simply close the tab/channel/log out/close the computer, because I know I'm being very stupid and this is a nonsensical irrational response. It's not about me. I don't need to and shouldn't care.

In the rarest of cases, I've unfollowed. It takes a lot still for me to unfollow for this reason (I am thankfully not an impulsive person) but in the few cases that it has, I'm sorry I tried I explode them with my mind before realizing that was probably a sign I should not keep letting myself be exposed to things that make me think and feel that way. I probably did and still do think they're a cool person and liked them 90% of the time, and I don't have any blame or hatred or whatever negative feelings! It sucks being like this, I know intimately!

But, I am simply a very tired girl trying not to reach a breaking point and go sicko mode on someone because I got irrationally and disproportionately angry over anxiety posting on the fucking internet.

And for the love of GOD if you're actually close with me and we talk for realsies (not just tumblr moot) and reading this makes you anxious about how you act around me just fucking talk to me directly please. It really only becomes an issue these days when it's a repeated thing from the same person, and especially after it's been talked about and nothing changes. If you've shown a lack of capacity of change or no interest in it, wellllllllll

I'm in a liminal space I realize, between irrationally accepting "yes everything is my fault whatever you're accusing me of I absolutely did because I am intrinsically Bad" and "No how the fuck is that my fault? Why are you pushing your feelings and problems onto me when I have my own shit to deal with? How dare you?! How FUCKING dare you?!?! I should see you torn limb from limb like I wish to do to my abusers because you're doing the same bullshit that they did to me SO I'M DEFENDING MYSELF AS SOMEONE SHOULD HAVE BACK THEN YOU'RE GOING TO REGRET--*bark bark bark bark*--"

It's really tiring.

#silversirenpersonal #I really hate being this way #I really hate that i'm conditioned to be triggered and at risk of being hostile to other people a lot like me #I have made so much progress and it is not nearly as bad anymore so I can tell what's happening when it does and fully realize that yes #this-my trigger-makes me a huge fucking asshole #being triggered by anxious people?? god what the fuck kind of shit hand is this let me mulligan #anyway if i disappear from tumblr from long lengths of time it's probably because i'm in a low tolerance phase and am doing my due diligenc #to not expose myself to triggers that make me want to become cyclops and shoot innocent people also in bad mental places with laser beams

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third-arch · 1 year ago

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I cried while brainstorming a chapter for my epilogue

!!Spoilers for “No Surprises” ahead!!

There are times that I’ve cried writing or coming up with ideas for my fanfiction. It’s a really sad story, and normally it doesn’t get to me.

But, Kanna will die. There’s nothing anyone could’ve done to change it. That’s why it’s called “No Surprises”. I’m telling you guys how it ends. The real story is their journey together. The bittersweet moments, the awkward, uncomfortable moments, the traumatic moments.

That’s the whole point. It’s a broken road of memories they shared together: both good times and bad. Insignificant and nostalgic.

Despite all his medical expertise, growth, despite it all, he couldn’t save her. He never ever will forgive himself for his recklessness. He blames himself everyday.

So imagine three years following the fanfic:

Law is now a “single dad” navigating parenthood to his almost 5 year old daughter, Taiga, who knows nothing about her mom.

Law hates thinking about her sometimes. It hurts. He feels like he’s going through the motions sometimes. It’s too quiet without her.

It’s not right.

And here’s taiga, this ADHD ball of sunshine tiger/Luffy character who loves her dad and wants to know about her mom. She believes deep down that she’s alive and carries around a photo of her.

One late night,

She tries sneaking out to find her, only to be caught at by Law.

“Where have you been! You foolish girl, you can’t ever do that again!”

“I went to go find mommy!! She’s here, I know it-“

They argue. Law keeps his cool, but thinking about Kanna makes him more and more emotional.

He loses his temper finally.

It escalates, and Law snaps at her,

“ENOUGH! I’ve had it with you! Mom’s gone! I watched her die!!”

His words catch in his throat, and he lets out a deep and frustrated exhale,

“…go to your room, right now.” He glares at her.

Taiga’s eyes well at his words, her lips quiver as she puts on her bravest face,

“I hate you daddy!! You’re the meanest worst dad ever!! Mom loved you and you’re just a monster!! I wish you weren’t my dad!!”

She slams the door littered with “Trafalgar Tiger!!” “Beware of tiger!!” “No Dads allowed” posters on her door and slams it shut, hugging the snow leopard plush Law gave her and crying.

She was six years old.

Law knocks on her door, gently apologizing and sitting down on her bed.

This tall, 191 cm stoic dad with his small, energetic daughter, who’s scowling at him.

But, putting myself in the mind of a six year old who’s convinced that her mom might still be alive and single dad Trafalgar Law having to tell her no hurts like crazy.

It’s heartbreaking.

I cried brainstorming this scene. The tension, imagining how a dad might yell at his daughter, is just heartbreaking.

“I shouldn’t have snapped at you. You’re too young to hear those kinds of things. I hurt you deeply, and I’m sorry.”

He notices her wet cheeks and tear stained pillow as he puts his hand on her head.

“I don’t expect your forgiveness, but I don’t want any hatred or resentment to come of this. Can you promise me that, Taiga-ya?”

Taiga tearfully nods.

And at the end of it, he cuddles her until she falls asleep against his chest.

“I don’t hate mom, Taiga-ya. I love her. I would do anything in the world to have her back. But she’s gone. She’s watching over you everyday, and she loves you just as much as I do.”

“I know you miss her. But I promise you, that I never stopped loving her, just as I never stopped loving you, okay?”

I’m getting teary eyed just typing this out.

I love Law so much. He’s such an interesting character to work with, and it’s even better when you don’t try to pry into his mind. Just keeping it brief and vague as he would.

So the epilogue, “Speak Now”, is going to be really interesting when it comes to him being more of a minor character, given the canon story and fanfic.

#one piece #op #trafalgar law #trafalgar one piece #trafalgardwaterlaw #one piece art #trafalgar law x oc #oc one piece #op oc #one piece oc #ocs #oc #trafalgar d law x reader #law x reader #op imagines #trafalgar law x reader #one piece law

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but-first--tea · 1 year ago

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I need to stop trying to talk to people on tumblr. What I think is friendly and helpful does not seem to be perceived as friendly or helpful. What I think my words mean and what other people think those same words mean does not align. Yes, I'm aware this means there is a high probability that I have undiagnosed autism. This is extremely common in those assigned female at birth, who do not present symptoms of many things the same as those assigned male at birth, autism and ADHD included, and frequently go most or all of their lives without understanding why things that seem easy for others are so damn difficult for them, much less get an actual diagnosis. The fact that the people I get along with most easily have already been diagnosed with it probably should have been my first clue.

I know it's not an excuse, I know it's a reason I need to try harder. But I don't feel social media is an appropriate place for me to do that.

This isn't a vent, I am not blaming anyone else, and I'm not making this post as a means of seeking sympathy or encouragement. It's just an explanation for the following change I have decided to make:

From here forward I am going to limit this blog to posting pretty pictures and reblogging other pretty pictures. This has a much higher track record of sharing enjoyment and uplifting spirits, which is all I actually want to do.

Please don't yell at me if I've socially mistepped by making this post or if you're upset by my phrasing of anything. I am already exhausted, and I've tried my best. Just block me and let it go. Or just don't worry about it since I won't be talking on this blog anymore anyway. You'd be beating a dead horse.

I can still be reached via Discord for those who still wish to take the risk of interacting with me despite all of the above.

My sincere apologies to anyone I have upset in the past by seeming condescending when trying to convey information that I mistakenly thought would be helpful. I promise I won't do it again.

#a clarification #an apology #neurodiversity challenges #ooc

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angelicgaming1007 · 2 years ago

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Continuation

Female #6 and #7: They would constantly leave when I was hanging out with them. They could get up to do something and disappear for hours and they'd wait for eachother. But if I got up to simply grab a drink something that took me like 3 minutes. when I got back they'd be gone without a word doing things together and inviting a bunch of other people to hang out with them and tell me to just "Wait" for a turn to hang out with them. They would ONLY do this to me. NO ONE ELSE. And it was constant for 3 MONTHS straight. When I gave up my spot for a round in a game they kept inviting people into the spot demanding I wait, I never got back in even though I had the least amount of time out of everyone. #7 would constantly criticize everything about me demanding I change this and that. which was anything from how I laughed, to how her getting upset at my adhd and autism. #6 One day got angry chewing me out for something someone ELSE did because I didn't stop them. Even though I was clueless and had no idea what was going on or that what they did was even bad (It was over a video game, they messed up #6's organization and I didn't even realize the chest in the game was hers because the other person acted like it was theirs. and I literally just had got on the game) she then rage quit the game. When I tried to talk with her to check on her she got angrier at me which hurt because I was already dealing with them ditching me all the time. Which btw she DIDN'T express anger to the other person she put the responsibility for what they did on my shoulders just because I was there in the moment. I waited some time and confronted them both gently after thinking everything through i wanted to say. They told me "We can't hang out with you all the time stop being selfish" and defended their actions, I never got an apology for being yelled at for something I didn't do. They forced me to apologize instead. I'm still friends with these two but keep it strictly casual and am ready to leave at a moment's notice. Male #6: Hes friends with female #6 and #7. He blamed me and got mad at me and talked sh*t about me with them when I confided in him about the situation asking for advice. He got angry at me telling me to essentially f*ck off. Doxxed me on stream when we were streaming together days later, made it out that #6 was a victim and I was a toxic abuser that I had to "work hard to make up for what I did" over me confronting her on how I felt about how I was treated. male #7: He would get loud and aggressive and scream and insult me and make sexist "jokes" degrading me telling me im "not like other girls" but then go on about how nice he is and how girls don't want to f*ck him while he made jokes about me getting back in the kitchen. His friends were worse and he forced me to hang out with them, I tried multiple times to talk to them and say I was uncomfortable, they would tell me I was being emotional and to calm down that I was imagining things. Everytime I gamed with them they would purposefully sabotage me and then tell me I sucked at the games because I was a woman and laugh at me. and when I one day snapped angry at how much I was being disrespected as a human being they all called me an overly emotional woman like its an insult and went on about how that was why they don't game with women. I finally told Male #7 that I refuse to play with his friends anymore, that I was happy to play with him but I would not with his friends. One day he joined me and my friends and then he started a huge fight with them because they didn't play "professionally" and liked to have fun and he said a lot of derogatory things to them. I put a stop to it and broke off the friendship and to this day this male ex friend stalks me, has also put my face on p0rn videos, catfished using my face, spread rumors online about me, and falsely reported my accounts to try to get me taken down off of my social medias.

TW: Abusive friendships + Mentions of SH and S

So I've still been getting anons saying im not "abused enough" even after detailing the sh*t my "father" (I refuse to claim that monster or his side of my blood) put me through. Even after what my teachers as a child put me through. So lets go through my friendships shall we? or atleast the closest friends. This might be multipart since it'll be so long

Male #1: Send me graphic photos of his SH, while talking about S*icide, confessed his "love" for me while doing so, and wanted to know my address so he could get in my pants. and "fix" my asexuality.

Male #2: Tried to get me to cheat on my then boyfriend (now fiance) and tried to ruin my reputation and get me banned from games and platforms online for denying him while trying to ruin my friendships by spreading rumors of me being a sl*t Female #1: Behind my back seduced my older brother so she could get in his head and control me by threatening me using him. Tried to forcibly convert me to her religion numerous times. Threatened her life about every few days forcing me to stay up with her, skip meals, etc which slowly was deteriorating my physical health because I was pushing my body far past its limits. (And I couldn't say no because I was an already damaged person in recovery and she took advantage of that to manipulate me into a state where it felt like she was the only one who would ever love me and that I'd die alone if I didn't please her. I was really bad off mentally when I met her s*icidal bad off) She would use my traumas against me to re-traumatize me so she could play hero and control me and manipulate me further. She put me in situations where she was trying to sell me digitally off to men trying to force me into sexual roleplays so she could make money. She also was trying to turn me on all my friends, monopolizing my time, convinced me everyone hated me and that I was never good enough for anyone. But that I was good enough for her. Almost ruined most my friendships with her slander and mind games. Male #3 & 4: Took the side of an abusive female friend (Female #1) and even helped her in her abuse by intimidating me and using my traumas against me, gaslighting and victim blaming me and peer pressuring me and even blackmailing me while trying to "Fix" my asexuality. Female #2: Stole all my artwork, Stole my ideas for webcomics we were going to work on together and did them alone then turned around and tried to gaslight me, tried to claim everything I ever made as hers, catfished men using my face, made p0rn videos with ai with my face. Stalked me, Tried to find my town and succeeded but didn't find my house. Started to dress, talk and do her makeup like me even changing her hair and stuffing her bra to replicate my boob size, started to use the nicknames and inside jokes I had with other friends trying to get them on her side while she slandered me behind my back. Claimed she was the leader of our friend group and put me down a lot and used my influence on the others to influence them by making them believe I trusted her to do this or that. Almost ruined numerous of my friendships. Female #3 and male #5: I introduced these two to eachother when I thought they were both my friends. Then The guy sexually harassed me, got creepily clingy, tried to monopolize my time, threatened me with self harm and s*icide to get me to go on calls with him to watch him sleep. I expressed my discomfort and he threw a whole "im going to kill myself" fit over it to get her sympathy. I was made into the bad guy for trying to establish boundaries so I walked away from him and she blamed me and hated me for it and ended our friendship calling me the toxic one for walking away from him. She then started rumors behind my back and started harassing me in video games to get me to quit games i used to love by making it impossible to play by targetting me with the PVP functions to the point I couldn't do anything because her guild was so big. Female #4 and #5: Basically a lot of back and forth and drama they entangled me in and then they would verbally abuse me and emotionally manipulate me as I tried to play mediator with them and other friends. They tried to get me to spy on other people and if I declined I was the target of bullying and harassment. In this case I had been barely an adult only 19 they were much older as was everyone involved (one of which was female #3) These two would stalk me across games, and servers to harass and bully me and try to ruin everything I tried to do. They would go to someone who I found later was friend #3 to find out what i was doing, they put their rivalry aside to joint-harass and bully me.

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ivyblossom · 3 years ago

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Building ADHD Coping Strategies

I was diagnosed very late in life (I was 44), so I stumbled upon some strategies for coping with ADHD without knowing that's what I was doing. A late diagnosis is both immensely frustrating and kind of like winning a weird award at the same time. I live with regret about my lost "potential" and a lifetime of firebombing of my own goals, and wondering what I might have managed to accomplish by now if I'd known I was different, but I also get to have a not-insignificant amount of pride about what I've managed to accomplish in spite of having a fucked up brain.

To address the usual assumptions: no, my ADHD wasn't missed because I have "girl ADHD" or a milder, less disruptive version. I have severe, hyperactive-impulsive ADHD. Then as now, girls aren't given the same benefit of the doubt that boys so often are. Also, since ADHD is almost always inherited, my behaviour and struggles were never considered weird or concerning to my mother or to my grandmother, to whom my behaviour was completely familiar, so they weren't going to flag any of it as anything other than normal.

The first thing a diagnosis gives us is permission to take care of ourselves the way we need to. There were lots of things I would like to have done to help myself complete tasks, but they look to others like going overboard or overthinking things, and people always tell me that I'm going too far, so I didn't allow my coping mechanisms be what they needed to be. The diagnosis lets me ignore those criticisms and hesitations. All ADHD hacks and coping strategies seem like "too much" to other people, so I have accepted that that criticism is meaningless and ableist, and I let myself ignore it. That alone is probably one of the best reasons to get a formal diagnosis, and the best coping strategy I have.

If something I try fails, I begin with the assumption that the issue is a missing step in the process, not that I just didn't try hard enough. Self-blame is useless and an obstacle. If a process requires me to try harder, it's a broken process. The goal is to create systems that guide me towards success and feel easy and seamless, and blaming myself doesn't help me get there. I feel badly about hurting other people or letting them down, but I have stopped blaming myself. The problem was never that I didn't care or wasn't trying hard enough. It's just the wrong systems and missing steps. Instead of feeling guilty, I apologize and explain to the person I've harmed how I'm working to avoid repeating my mistake. They can accept that or not.

One of the additional complications of ADHD is that it impacts all the executive functions, and the ability to recognize that you're struggling with a task and why requires several of those. So one of the things I've accepted is that it's okay that I don't know why I'm struggling with something. I have spent my life making up reasons for my fuck ups that feel true, but that doesn't mean they are. I've embraced the fact that not understanding why something is hard or why something failed only means I don't understand how my deficits are at play in this situation yet, and I shouldn't make assumptions about what will and won't work. Now I try to design solutions based on a few core elements where I know I have deficits and see how it goes.

Having a deficit that impacts executive function means a person with ADHD will likely not recognize or be able to see their own symptoms. I never once even considered that I might have ADHD before the age of 40, and even then I only identified with the executive function issues, not "attention deficit". I do not have an attention deficit, and I have never felt distracted. I am always laser-focused on something, it's just that that what that is can change every 30 seconds (or not change for 30 hours) without me noticing. I can only recognize "distraction" (getting pushed off task by following an impulse) when medicated. If I could see that task-shift happening, I could choose to stop it and stay on task, but without medication, I can't. ADHD is a form of inner blindness, a struggle with self-awareness and limited tool set for self-control. So another way to cope is to accept that you don't know what you don't know, and parts of you are on an auto-pilot. But you can connect with yourself to recognize, understand, and control all of these things. It just looks weird when you do it. And that's okay.

Externalizing Habit Formation

I go with the assumption that I can't form habits. It's possible I can, but I find it more useful to assume I can't. If I can't form habits, then I need to find other ways to get habitual things accomplished regularly without needing to remember to do them, and without needing to think about it. I have externalized every habit I can, and I keep adding more. Externalizing basic stuff means I waste no energy trying to remember to do them, so I save my brain for bigger things.

I've found that the first task in any strategy is planning ahead, as much as that's an agonizing concept to wrap my head around. 9 times out of 10, if something doesn't work, it's because there's another, more basic plan missing that I need first. Like can't plan meals without having a list of meals I like handy. I can't do the recall and the planning at the same time. But that's okay: I can just keep lists of meals once I know I need that.

I build my habits in a spreadsheet, beginning with the things I wish I were doing and when, and guessing how much time they take. This is how I learned that I need 90 minutes to have the morning I want to have, and for years I gave myself 20 minutes to do it. And I wondered why that wasn't working!

My future self is like a floppy puppy, and I need to give that floppy puppy some structure to keep her going in the direction she wants to be going in. I need the floppy puppy to be a) rested, b) clean, c) clothed, d) fed on a schedule so that she can tackle the unplanned tasks of the day at her best, so I lay the groundwork so that the basics will be covered without her having to think about or remember to do any of it. For normal people this is just being an adult, but I am not normal people, so my process is different.

Figuring out what habits I should have sounds easy, but it's harder than I thought. I have spent many hours designing and testing ideal routines (morning, evening, weekly, etc.), and it quickly realized that not only was I expecting to just magically do all these things without planning or a prompt before now, I wasn't even completely sure what I wanted or needed to do at any given time, so no wonder I wasn't reliably doing any of it. Determining how to offload "habits" and design prompts for them instead is an ongoing task.

To outsource habit-formation, I designed programmed audio and light prompts in daily and weekly routines via smart speakers that I keep in every room of my home. I find audio more powerful than visual screen prompts, and designing them as routines means they are regular and continuous and don't require intervention from me. In sum, I program rooms to remind me what I should be doing, and to adjust the lighting accordingly. So lights will go off in rooms I shouldn't be in, and go on in rooms i should be.

Anything I want to do habitually (like wash my face, brush my teeth, take a shower, eat breakfast, prep my lunch, plan dinner, wash my sheets, etc.) I plan and program a timed, daily or weekly prompt for. There are really no limits on this. I started by building a morning routine of prompts to keep me on task in the mornings, and then an evening routine (lay out clothes for tomorrow, get tomorrow's dinner out of the freezer, etc.) I keep building more of them as time goes on. Not only does it keep me from having to remember what I need to do, it adds texture to time and helps me recognize that time is passing.

Sometimes just these reminder isn't enough. I have learned that sometimes, to keep myself on schedule, I need to disrupt my hyperfocus. Figuring out how to do that is a task in itself. I use smart plugs on all my lamps so that I can set them to switch off on a schedule. I have created a playlist to start playing when I should be switching tasks (and getting ready for bed). Finally, I created a routine to cut power to my TV at a certain time. I can switch it back on, but it's enough work that it shakes me out of a pointless next-episode loop if I'm in one. One of the most useful things I've done to help me get out of bed in the mornings is set the whole thing to start 5 minutes earlier than then giving myself the option to ignore it for 5 minutes. For some reason that works. Possibly it just stages the transition? Not sure.

I've recently learned that getting myself to make my bed the moment I get out of it is a good way to avoid getting back into it. Also, it makes my room look nice. Which leads me to...

Filling Necessary Tasks with Tiny Joys

In retrospect I can see that one of my first coping mechanisms is using enthusiasm to motivate myself. I can create enthusiasm about almost anything, and once I'm enthusiastic, I'm more likely to follow through on a task. I find deadlines and stress too stressful a motivator, so I opted with joy and delight instead.

I try to add elements of delight to things I need to do. A shower filled with products that don't make me smile isn't a shower I'll avoid exactly, but it's not one I'll be pleased to jump into. So I put time and energy into finding out what shampoo and soap that I love. I let myself have scent obsessions. For a while I wanted everything to smell like desserts, but at the moment I'm into citrus. Is this silly? Yes. But I indulge it because it's part of making necessary tasks easier to do.

I need to get myself to bed on time, so making my bedroom delightful is another indulgence to allow myself without guilt. That means paying attention to the aesthetics, and also to textures. I need to have clean sheets, and I need to have sheets I love that feel amazing. Currently really into silky bamboo sheets. And I will reject a laundry detergent, even if it's a full bottle, if the smell of it doesn't make me happy. Wasteful? Yes. But I will indulge myself in these ways because it's part of the joy-forward plan.

I have struggled with breakfast for years, but have now solved it, partly just by making time for it, and partly by properly planning for it, but also by making it as delightful as a can. I've been making myself a honey latte using this very bougie honey + bee pollen honey I found at the market, and do I ever look forward to that latte! It's a weird flex to see your fuck ups and respond by rewarding yourself, but I've found that joy and delight yields better results than any form of deprivation or punishment, and it's results I'm after.

Externalizing Working Memory and Recall

My life is littered with evidence that I have a limited working memory, but the concept of working memory is relatively opaque to us. What's the difference between short-term memory and working memory? How does recall fit in? Don't ask me! All I know is that I need to externalize more than I think I do, so when things go pear-shaped, I try externalizing more information to see if it helps.

One of the ways I've externalized information relates to food. I have a long history of planning meals, buying all kinds of lovely ingredients, and then letting them rot in my fridge. I've deduced that part of the problem is that when I'm tired and thinking about other things, I don't have the capacity to mentally go back into that plan and pull out the idea for this meal. That's too much mental work for me at that point in the day. (Could I conjure up an entire novel's worth of plot? Yes! But remembering what I had planned to eat for dinner? Nope.) Even opening the fridge might not trigger my recall. So now I have a whiteboard on my fridge where I write what meals I planned for the day so that I don't have to remember. It's always easier for me to pick from a list than the recall anything. So I give myself lists when I need them.

My most Helpful Purchases (so far)

Electric kettle: one that switches itself off. That way, if you forget you put the kettle on, no harm done.

Smart speakers: I use Alexa devices, but apple and google devices work basically the same way. You can build routines and have them triggered by command, or time, or proximity, etc. I haven't needed to use IFTTT to accomplish anything yet, but I'm ready to. I use my phone all the time, but I also abandon it randomly, so I find apps less useful for controlling my behaviour than audio and light signals in my home. Most of my habits happen in my home anyway.

Magnetic Whiteboards: for my fridge. I have two little ones.

Robovac: Somehow I'm just more likely to let Kyle my robovac run loose than I am to vaccum myself.

Solid shampoo and conditioner: it's less plastic and better for the environment, but mainly I use solid shampoo and conditioner because I can have a year's worth of it in my bathroom without looking like a hoarder. I have a tendency to hoard things I fear forgetting to have with me. Solid shampoo is small and lasts a long time if you let it air out properly. I stack a year's worth of them in a vase in my bathroom. It looks pretty and it smells nice, but it's actually there because I fear forgetting to buy shampoo and running out. This way I literally can't run out, and when I get to the point where I only have 6 months' worth, the vase doesn't look at pretty, so I re-stock months before I have to.

Multiple laundry baskets: You need as many laundry baskets as you sort into. If you do lights and darks, you need two. If you do lights, darks, and hot water wash, you need three. One laundry basket with three classes of item inside means more thinking required to do laundry, and that's an obstacle. So multiple laundry baskets.

Weekly pill dispenser: I currently take 6 pills in the morning. That seems like a lot, but it's really very mundane: 2 prescriptions (one is two pills to reach the right dose), an antihistamine, vitamin D, and black kohosh. That is too many pills for me to manage individually first thing in the morning. It was too many pills when it was 3 pills. That's too much faffing around, I won't do it consistently, or I won't do it properly more often than not. So I dispense my 6 daily pills into a weekly dispenser. I dispense each day's worth all at once into a beautiful earthenware egg cup, pop them all into my mouth in one go the moment I wake up, and then drink water from a matching beautiful earthenware cup. This means a) I don't need to remember to take them all, and I don't even notice how many of them I'm taking, 6 is the same as 1, b) I can easily add or subtract pills without altering my routine, c) there is beauty involved in the tools and that pleases me, d) I can confirm whether or not I took my pills that day because the dispenser has 7 slots in it.

Wireless phone charger: Why plug your phone in when you could create a home for your phone where a) you know where it is, and b) it charges?

Key dish: I keep my keys in a special dish (next to my wireless phone charger) to avoid the time and stress playing "the key game", where you try to remember where you put your bloody keys. I spent weeks deciding exactly what dish I needed it to be. I ended up getting a on-the-verge-of-hideous second hand candy dish made by a now-defunct factory where my family would visit in the summer, and the weird bowl on display in that borrowed cottage. So it reminds me of happy childhood memories. I love that ugly dish. The fact that it's meaningful seems trite, but that the meaningfulness helps me to remember to put my keys in it. Looking at it gives me happy memories, which helps me to remember to use it, and to remember where my keys are.

Valet stand: this is a piece of furniture. It has a shelf, rail, and a whatsit that looks like a hanger, a thing you could hang a jacket on. They make valet chairs as well and I want one. I use a valet stand to put my next day's clothes on. It's a place to put them, but also a reminder that I need to suit it up before I got to bed. It looks so refined, and it's better than hanging things off my dresser, I figure.

More to come!

#well this is long #adhd coping strategies #I just wanted to document these somewhere

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animeyanderelover · 4 years ago

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Hey uhh I really liked the Killua with ADHD s/o so... Ciel, Levi, Hange, Shaiapouf and Meruem, with ADHD reader (in the form of headcanons) .. also take your time :)

Wow, not gonna lie. I was already happy when I finally got to write something about the Chimera Ants already once. But to be able to write about a few of them again. I apologize if I didn’t get something accurate.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, obsessiveness, possessiveness, threatening, degrading, delusions, ADHD, violence, brutal behavior, killing

ADHD: ADHD stands for attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, a complex brain disorder. ADHD is a development impairment of the brain’s executive functions. It causes trouble with impulse-control, focusing and organization.

s/o has ADHD

Ciel Phantomhive

☕️Ciel isn't the best nor is he the worst to have with his darling having ADHD. He doesn't hate you for it, he knows you can't do anything against it since it's not your fault. You were just born with it and there's nothing you could have done. So he does try to be as understanding and patient with you as possible. But keep in mind that Ciel can get rather easily annoyed if his buttons are pushed the right way. So I feel like if he realizes that he's near his limit, he would somewhat push you away and let Sebastian or the other servants deal with you. This might hurt your feelings, but Ciel is actually frightened that he'll say something hurtful to you and for that leaves you. Would later on apologize and try to make it up to you. He himself isn't very familiar with ADHD, but is a smart boy and has his demon butler with him.

☕If you should tend to lose motivation and focus quickly, lose your things and don't seem to listen too someone when being talked to then you actually don't have to worry too much. Because Sebastian and the servants will do anything for you, meaning you don't have to worry about being forced to do cores. You losing things can of course annoy Ciel, especially if they were expensive or he needed them himself. Luckily his butler finds them always quickly. He would grow definitely a lot more controlling over his s/o because they keep forgetting things, leading him to scheduling out their whole day from the moment they wake up to the moment they go back to bed. Ciel also tries to not make you focus on something too long since you lose quickly interest. It's agitating in a way for him since he hates it when he gets the feeling that you don't pay attention to him, but he reminds himself that you can't do anything against it.

☕If you should be the more hyperactive one, Ciel will definitely have to leave you very often alone. Ciel isn't good with very energetic and loud people since he's constantly surrounded by such persons. He really does extend his string of patience a lot with you, but he feels kind of insulted whenever you suddenly blurt in when he's talking. Also nearly goes crazy whenever you can't sit still for a minute somewhere, tapping your feet and playing with your fingers. Your hyperactivity exhausts him and the only reason he puts up with it without lashing out on you is because you can't do anything against it and because he loves you. Hates leaving you alone because he's afraid that you'll climb up somewhere or touch some weapons or things which might hurt you. So whilst it makes him tick off, he will have you stick near him very often and if he needs to calm down, he'll order Sebastian to watch over you since that guy's the most capable of handling you.

☕Reputation is important for Ciel and as arrogant this may sound, feel like he wouldn't tell many people about you since he doesn't want to be judged for being in love with someone many nobles would describe as 'unsuitable'. He can gladly pass on the whole 'You-could-have-chosen-better' talk. A less selfish reason is that he is due to the way you are incredibly overprotective of you. Next to being a bit embarassed, he understands that you would probably not want to hear others talking trash about you. He lives in a very difficult time where people were more judging than they might be today. This openmindness wasn't as present as today and behavior was especially under people from higher society very important. Ciel knows that and it leads him to shielding you from the outside world.

☕I feel like the people in the manor are all really open-minded and would accept you open-heartedly which will lift a bit weight from Ciel's shoulders. Sebastian has infinite patience and Bardroy, Tanaka, Mey-Rin and Finny just really like his darling. It gives Ciel the feeling that he can trust and rely on them and whilst he definitely keeps a sharp eye on the human servants since they tend to be more clumsy which might end in an accident. After Sebastian Tanaka might be the most trusted, that is if he is in his real form. This gives Ciel a sense of ease because when he hurt you unintended, he knows he can count on them to be there for you and comfort you. Mey-Rin, Finny, Bardroy and Tanaka will over time grow just as their master overprotective over you.

Shaiapouf

🎻Here we have to keep in mind that Shaiapouf changed his type and behavior for his darling. I think during the first time when he was a stricter Yandere, he had a harder time dealing with this. Because back then it was all about perfection for Shaiapouf and this was somewhat of a flaw his darling had. After reading a whole day books about it, he did get that his s/o didn't choose to be this way, but it led him to being a bit harsh on them neverthless. When he reached the point of total adoration and devotion, that changed of course and all of a sudden, his view on all of this changed. It wasn't any longer a flaw, it was a unique trait his royalty had and Shaiapouf swore to himself to treat them like a loyal servant should.

🎻During the first stage he definitely tended to be very controlling, probably even forcing you into doing things even when you lost focus and/or motivation. At that time Shaiapouf just had very high expectations for you and you just happened to go against his perfect and ideal picture he had in mind. He forced you to educate yourself better, he forced you into learning the violin or another instrument, all because this perfect image of you was stuck in his head. And he scolded you every time he noticed that you stopped doing it once again. It was definitely not an easy time. So when he entered his worshipper mode it is most likely a huge relief for his darling. Because now he doesn't care about all of this anymore, the only thing he is focused on is protecting his king/queen and keep them happy. Now he doesn't lash out when you lose your things or seem to not listen to him. He's past total devotion and infatuation and due to his never-ending amount of patience with you a lot easier to be with. You don't have to move a finger anymore because he insists on doing anything for you now.

🎻The stricter version of him also wouldn't tolerate it if you should be too energetic, keep interrupting him or can't sit still without somehow move your limps or even do indecent things. He always tries to keep in mind that it's somewhat of a sickness, but for him it was then all about manners and good behavior and so he did try to forcefully change your way of being, always scolding you and trying to teach you how to act properly. For a worshipper Shaiapouf this is a no-go and even thinking back on how he even dared to think that he had the authority to try to change his already and always perfect majesty has him devastatedly sobbing. HOW DARE HE?! Now he honestly doesn't care anymore when you interrupt him, constantly act energetic or even scream at him in excitement. He's obsessive and due to that tends to focus really intensely on your behavior, he's beyond relieved that he didn't damage you with his previous way of acting. His majesty shouldn't change because of him. The only thing that makes him badly paranoid is when you act a bit too reckless which might end with you getting hurt. This makes Shaiapouf always fly panicked to you, preventing you from doing whatever you were about to do and try to coax you into doing something where he knows you won't get hurt.

🎻He used to somewhat degrade you and make you feel bad about yourself before too, inveighing constantly that you should and could do better if you would just try a bit harder. It has him going on a crying rampage later on because even thinking about how he used to say those words at you and not caring when you looked hurt at him inflicts an unbelievable amount of pain onto him. If he should ever even think that you still resent him for it, you have him kneeling in front of you whilst sobbing and begging for forgiveness even though he knows he doesn't deserve it. That's the exact reason he is even more anxious of ever letting you under humans again. He's frightened that they will not only kill you, but also talk down to you because of your ADHD. It gives him nasty heart attacks all the time and if he should ever find out that there was someone in your old hometown that bullied you because of this, he will remove named disgrace shortly after because it makes him absolutely furious when he hears that someone didn't respects and worships you the way he does. Blames also himself for not making you feel worthy enough if you yourself should think lowly of yourself.

🎻You all can probably guess it, but after becoming a worshipper, it will become a lot more easier for the s/o to endure life a bit better with Shaiapouf because now he doesn't see their ADHD as a flaw anymore, but as a special trait that has to be adored and protected. He will do now about anything and everything for you. Shaiapouf is in this case even more dependent on your approval because he's horrified of how unworthy he used to treat you and misreads things constantly, instantly blaming it on how he used to be. It can be as much as you reacting a bit too late to him because you weren't focused and then you already have him crying. He's still a lot to deal with, but it's better for your mental health to not be discriminated for your ADHD anymore and being told that you could do better.

Meruem

👑Just like Pouf, he had a change in his overall behavior which needs to be looked over. Let's just say that at first he was totally terrifying with dealing and accepting it. Different from Pouf he's the type to blame you for this even if you really couldn't do anything about it. It's a dangerous gamble in here because he used to expect total obedience and behavior from you and annoying him or going against his wishes ended with him hurting and scaring you on a daily base. After he had his transformation to a slightly better Yandere, he became totally fascinated with this, suddenly being interested a lot more about ADHD and informing himself properly.

👑It won't go well if you don't stay focused whilst he is doing something with you or he gets the impression that you don't listen when he's talking to you. It ends with him talking terribly down to you, pocking cruel fun at you for being so stubborn, dumb and weak and can even end with him hurting you physically when he's had enough. Later on he would be still somewhat grumpy and annoyed whenever you forget things or lose focus and don't listen to him. But now he came to the terms of accepting that this isn't your fault to start with and for that won't lash out on you anymore. He just checks on you and makes sure that you don't forget to look after your own health.

👑Being loud and interrupting others because you can't wait for your turn might be even worse than being unfocused and forgetful in here. Meruem is a king, you have to treat him like one and obey him. And being all impatient, not letting him finish his sentences and even yelling at him is such a huge sign of disrespect that Meruem used to think that you are either out of your mind or have a death wish. It ended so often with you crying afterwards, either because he had terrorized you or really hurt you. That changed of course later on, he still was somewhat annoyed by all of this, but now he just tends to clamp a hand over your mouth when he realizes that you're about to suddenly start speaking again. He doesn't like being interrupted. He proves to have more tolerance with you constantly being hyped up and even expects his royal guards, execept Pouf, to be ready to troll around with you when you seem too energetic. Since he knows that you can be very careless, he never lets you leave his sight, especially when his butterfly servant or another chimera ant is around.

👑He honestly used to be the worst when it came to talking bad to you and about you. He called you weak, pathetic, useless and many other things. He just thought that you should be grateful for him to even keep you since you were a sore for his eyes to see. But he also saw himself at that time as the only one who was allowed to talk like this, ending in him killing everyone who did the same. He owned you and only he had the right to do this to you. That changed after he softened up. Now he kills everyone who talks bad about you because he cares and I believe Shaiapouf might just really get himself killed because he simply does not see you as a worthy partner for his king.

👑Neferpitou and Youpi adore you and whilst Meruem is on alert whenever they are near you, it's nothing compared to hen Pouf is with you in the room. Meruem will never, NEVER, trust this guy when he's near you. The only person he really trusts you around is Komugi, since he cares about her as well and since Komugi never judges you to begin with. He feels sorry if he should have left any sort of trauma on you because he used to try to really break you so you would finally behave. That makes him really careful when he's now acting around you because he's somewhat worried he'll break you if he isn't gentle enough with you.

Hanji/Hange Zoë

🔬Hanji is someone who doesn't care about this at all. They're incredibly open-minded with everything and tend to be very special and peculiar in their own sense. Similar to their fascination with Titans, they will suddenly become to an unhealthy extent curious about ADHD, staying up nights to read books and maybe even ask people who know someone who has this disorder. It adds oddly up to their obsession they have with you and whenever you do something that is connected to this, they get scarily interested about it. Their interest about ADHD would go because of their darling from zero to thousand in only a short amount of time.

🔬Hange doesn't mind it that much if you don't really pay attention to things even though it can be a bit embarassing from time to time since they tend to start rambling exitedly about things only to realize a lot more later that you stopped listening ages ago. But Hange isn't someone who gets discouraged very easily and won't blame you for it. They are very lenient when it comes to you forgetting things, since they are a bit like you in that matter, even though they only forget things which aren't important for them. Also shows a lot of tolerance when you keep forgetting to do your cores or just lose motivation in it. They are also on the messier and forgetful side when it comes to taking care of themself. But what counts for them, doesn't count for you so the moment they thing you start lacking to look after your own health or the conditions you live in because of your laziness become too extreme, they will step in and help you with cleaning up. Whilst trying to keep you as motivated for as long as possible, they won't be angry or disappointed if they have to do it alone because you lost motivation.

🔬If you should show symptoms of hyperactivity and too much enthusiasm and excitement, you're a match made in heaven for Hanji, even though Levi tends to call you two a match made in hell because now he has to endure two of you. But honestly, Hanji shows a lot of similarities in this case. They can be really thrilled and driven by an invisible motor as well, not to mention that if they're too excited about something, they tend to cut people off before they finished speaking as well. But they do know when to stay quiet or become more serious whilst you don't, but it isn't like Hanji gets ever annoyed or angry with you. They find it even quite endearing since you remind them so much of themself. For the most part they will let you be, even though definitely stopping you when realizing that you're about to get too reckless. I can see them as even being the type of person who will be all excited with you together and do stupid things together. Not only because they just really enjoy being silly together, but also to look after you.

🔬They're not surprisingly very much angered whenever someone makes a wrong comment about their darling's way of acting around. Hange knows that people tend to get annoyed with heir darling and even see them as a nuisance. And that makes them mad. They really have no tolerance for such people who think they can judge someone without even knowing how they feel. And it's their darling we're talking about after all which makes them even more furious. Even Levi has to be a bit more careful. Hange definitely shows a lot more patience with him, Erwin and people they're close too, but even here they can become eerily quiet the moment someone says something too extreme or they notice that you're hurt. Whilst not caring what other people, except their darling, think about them, they care very much when it comes to whether people think bad about their s/o or not. Especially if you should feel insecure they would be a lot more on alert.

🔬Hanji's acceptance is a good thing to have since they don't judge you or get annoyed with you being like you are. They want you to be yourself after all. They don't baby you like many others, but it does lead to them becoming a bit more clingy, especially if you're the hyperactive type. If you don't live together with them, they always pop up very often to check if they have to help you a bit or not. Also has this odd quirk of making notes about your behavior because at this point it's safe to say that they reached the point of unhealthy obsessiveness, everything you do is being absobered by them. It's a bit unhinging to witness, but it makes it easier for Hanji to deal with your behavior even better since they know at some point what to expect and how to counter if it might endanger you. One thing, you're not going to be scout under any means because Hanji totally fears that either you'll lose focus or get too overxcited, and not in a good way.

Levi Ackerman

⚔️At the beginning it might be a bit more hard for Levi to adjust to all of this. Given the fact that he's obsessive and collects rapidly informations about you, he'll find out about this very early on, talking to neighbours, your friends and other people you're familiar with. And of course he'll start informing himself about all of this, but he has just a short string of patience and is easy to annoy. He knows he really can't let his ire out on you since you can't do anything about it, but sometimes your behavior just really tugs on his nerves since he isn't the best with people who are either unfocused or too active for their own good. So similar to Ciel at the beginning he might distance himself out of fear to say something too harsh to you. He doesn't want to scare you.

⚔️Levi would step in a lot into your private life if you should keep forgetting to clean up a lot and lose daily things. Neglecting hygiene, tidiness and maybe even your own health is such a huge red cross for him. He would be definitely a lot more controlling than usual and come over everyday to check on you and the condition your house is in. And if he thinks it isn't cleaned up? Guess who's staying for a bit longer to wash and scrub, doing your laundry and organizing your things? He might even try due to that to speed things up to get you to move in with him quicker so he can really make sure that you will never forget about such important things again. I can funnily see him as someone who won't be as mad as some people might think he would be. He's of course pissed that you either forget to look after the house and you or just lack motivation, but it gets attenuated due to him knowing that you don't do it because you're really lazy or because you aren't interested in it. He will still try to push you into at least helping a bit, but he can and will play the role of the housewife. Prefers it maybe even that way since he gets things done like he wants too.

⚔️With a more pumped up darling he will have troubles at first. It isn't like he isn't used to such people, he knows quite a few of those. But with his s/o this is just a bit of a different story since he really tries to avoid being harsh or mean to them which he would have been normally with those kind of persons. He might seek some advice from Hange since he knows that he is not the best when it comes to being patient. He might even let you spend time with them when he gets a bit overwhelmed with your energy since despite being annoyed with them most of the time, Levi trusts them. He would be gone for a bit to collect his thoughts before coming back with his emotions having calmed down. Will with time however learn how to deal with you being all bubbly and hyped. But he also will definitely watch over you more carefully since due to your too active personality you tend to do things that might be dangerous. It's one of the reasons he often gets mad at Hanji when he has to leave you alone. They are willing to do such things with you which triggers his overprotective side a lot.

⚔️Disrespectful brats aren't tolerated from him in all scenarios. But when it comes to disrespecting his darling, his reaction is definitely the most intense one. Whilst Levi admits that he himself struggles sometimes and finds himself annoyed by this, he would never insult you on purpose and if he does he apologizes later on. There's of course a difference between just pointing something out or really being mean with the intention to be. Levi can tell which is which and will act accordingly. He doesn't say anything if someone just points something out with the intention of wanting to be friendly since he's like this as well. But if someone insults you or pokes fun at you that's a different story in which Levi will shove someone's face into the dirt with demanding an apology. Would be a bit nagging when you seem to get discouraged very easily, complaining that you're too sensitive, but would still be in the end always comfort you when you're down.

⚔️Will literally not let you do anything dangerous since he's worried you'll lose focus and hurt yourself because you aren't careful enough. If you should even mention that you want to be a scout or anything like this, you'll have him instantly being over you and ordering you to stop thinking such a ridiculous thing. Levi tends to overthink everything a bit due to you having ADHD. Hange is probably the person he's the most calm around when with you since he knows that they are the last person who would judge you and from all persons he knows, he just has the most trust in them even though he tends to give them a rather long and harsh lecture whenever they tried something stupid with you.

#yandere black butler #yandere kuroshitsuji #yandere ciel #yandere ciel phantomhive #yandere attack on titan #yandere aot #yandere shingeki no kyojin #yandere snk #yandere hanji #yandere hange #yandere hanji zoë #yandere hange zoë #yandere levi #yandere levi ackerman #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hxh #yandere shaiapouf #yandere meruem

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echo-of-sounds · 5 years ago

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rejection sensitive dysphoria

How Aizawa, Toshi, Hizashi, and Gang Orca would support their s/o with rejection sensitive dysphoria.

Sorry if some of these are a little difficult to read. A lot of this is personal so I sort of prattled on. But I think I edited them down enough to make sense and read clearly.

Aizawa Shouta

Shouta struggles with a few of your ADHD symptoms, mainly clicking and tapping. He’s also growing and learning. He comforts you from sensitivities and learns to help with memory issues. But one thing that’ll throw him for a loop is rejection sensitive dysphoria. Handling people’s emotions, he isn’t that best at. Handling your self-accusations, nearly uncontrollable guilt, and alienation hurts, worries, confusions, and upsets him.

It’ll take a lot of practice on his part to understand what exactly RSD is and how it affects your thinking, behaviors, and feelings. It’s hard for him to grasp how him saying “Don’t do that” or how reading a nice, useful critique on your writing is enough to make you sob for ten minutes. Your train of thought just makes very little sense. It’s helping you. You should use the advice to improve your skills. But he doesn’t voice that. It won’t make you feel better.

While he is confused about your reasoning, he understands you’re hurting. That’s more than enough to make him sit down, hold you, and talk (which is difficult for him). After reading about RSD and gaining new insights, he prefers talking out what happened and what your thoughts/feelings were saying. It’s to guide you along a path of understanding the situation better in hopes it’ll calm you. He wasn’t disappointed. That was just your mind twisting the conversation. Now, that doesn’t stop the flooding emotions, but it’s reassuring to realize his disgust wasn’t real. He still loves you. He always will.

A behavior that puzzles him (i.e. worries him sick) is when you fluctuate between a social butter and a hermit. You try so hard to make someone like you so much, but then a week later, you’re completely isolating. You don’t respond to texts or calls. You don’t engage. You just turn dormant. It’s like you either need to be beloved or erased. There’s no in-between…

And that makes Shouta feel as stuck as you. Though he hides it to an extent. He knows if he revealed annoyance at your withdrawal, that could very well make it worse. And since he isn’t that great at emotional subjects, his choice of words could make it seem like he’s mad at you when that’s not the case at all. His annoyance is at the emotions. They take you away from the world, from your friends and life and him. It’s upsetting. He’s hurt that you don’t partake in card games with friends or join him for dinner anymore.

After a while, he will have a brief outburst. Despite the anger, underneath the scowls and retorts, you can tell he just misses you. He’s your partner. You need to have some sort of involvement in the partnership. At the end of his blowout, he apologizes. And you should, too. It’s unfair for you to disengage for so long. He understands your emotions are difficult to handle, but he doesn’t deserve you neglecting him. It’s on both of you to work with each other and figure out the best way to cope.

Yagi Toshinori

Toshinori’s great with difficult emotions. Hero work’s given him plenty of practice. But he always has a soft spot for you and loathes how you berate and bully yourself. It’s not fair. Mistakes happen. Sometimes you mishear. You won’t always reach your goals, and that’s perfectly okay! It’s also okay to not be the best at everything. None of that means you’re a failure. Anytime he notices the brittle little switch flick on that revs up your thinking, he turns his focus to you.

Like when he drives you to your doctor’s appointment. But it was at one, not four. You disappointed yourself, made Toshi drive you for nothing, and took up his time and energy for fucking nothing. You failed. You’re a fuckup. It hurts. You don’t know why. It just hurts. It’s lonely. It’s overwhelming. You can’t describe the quality, nature, or aspect. You’re just scared and fragile and ashamed and inadequate and now tears are streaming down your face for absolutely no fucking reason and it won’t stop, it gets worse and worse and heavier and heavier and you just want to disappear.

Toshi gently pulls you to his chest. It doesn’t matter how ‘insignificant’ the reason is, he comforts you, softly reassuring he isn’t angry and you aren’t a screwup. You made a mistake. That’s it. There’s no consequence. No nothing. You two can go home and spend your time together, cuddling and kissing, instead of at a doctor’s office. You can fix the mistake later and all will be well.

The high standards you set for yourself upset him. It gives him anxiety. When you get your essay back, the one you spent uncountable hours on, and you only got a 91, he doesn’t understand why or want to see you cry. Out of one-hundred, that’s an amazing grade, especially on difficult subjects. He wishes you learn self-love and accept yourself- fumbles, slipups, and all. Because the minute you fail, since the standards are simply not achievable by anyone, you tongue-lash yourself to tears. You’re scared of failure. But that’s exactly what you set yourself up for with your thinking.

To help, he will read plenty about what he can do to support you. He knows it’s not all on him to fix. You work with your therapist and practice coping techniques. But he yearns to help. He always will. During the buildup of an emotional eruption, he talks with you, directing your mind towards self-compassion: self-kindness because you deserve warmth and sympathy from yourself, common humanity because everyone has flaws and faults, and mindfulness because you can have negative emotions without judging them or yourself.

Overall, Toshi is there to bolster and comfort you. If you need certain things explained or want company to an event, he’s right beside you. He wants you to love yourself as he does, completely. That includes your flaws and mistakes.

Yamada Hizashi

Hizashi’s very in tune with your feelings. The slightest change is often felt by him. It doesn’t matter if the criticism is real or perceived, he’s hugging you, drying your tears. You aren’t an idiot or annoying or inferior. You didn’t fail or disappoint. And he certainly isn’t mad or judging or rejecting you. He loves you dearly. The instant you withdraw because of his tone, words, or actions, he explains he isn’t angry, that he loves you just as much, if not more, than yesterday.

And whether or not the initiating scene was real, he reassures you that no matter how devastating, destructive the emotions are right now, they will pass. You will feel better. Your mind is just in overdrive right now. Once it hits the brakes, it’s easier to think about what really happened. You can recognize his critique wasn’t some personal attack because he suddenly abhors your mere presence. He was genuinely trying to help improve your piano skills. It was out of love. Everything he does is out of love.

The embarrassment and low self-esteem are his chief concerns. You deserve to feel comfortable with your mind and body. Who cares if someone doesn’t like your dress? Screw them. You’re fucking beautiful and worthy of having fun and feeling good. He tries his best to kiss the tears away. If you need more kisses in the places you hate, he gladly obliges.

The idea of failing a task is too painful, so you never try. You don’t speak up even when you have a great idea. You don’t vocalize your needs because you’d rather be insignificant than called clingy and weak. Hizashi is the ideal man to help. He’s your cheerleader, supporter, and defender. He’ll tell the server your burger was wrong. He’ll listen to your ideas and bring them up, knowing they’re terrific, then make sure you get the credit you deserve. Your words are valid. You’re valid. It doesn’t matter if something you do isn’t the best. You’re still entitled to be heard, helped, and respected.

Hizashi cracks jokes galore. Sometimes they’re groan-worthy. Sometimes they’re pretty funny. Sometimes, after a stress-filled day when you’re raw and insecure, one minuscule jab in a teasing-but-maybe-not-but-maybe-bullying voice can reduce you to nothing. Because that’s exactly what you feel like- a stupid, unwanted, fruitless fool. He’s quick to catch the fumble and switches into snuggly mode, apologizing and nuzzling you under blankets. You know he never means to insult you. But that doesn’t stop the emotions from bursting.

He changes how and when he jokes by paying attention to your anxiety level. He also compliments you more, immodestly and extravagantly. It’s almost too much, but Hizashi doesn’t care. He just wants you to know how much he loves and appreciates you.

Gang Orca

Kugo struggles… a lot. Relationships and delicate emotions in general aren’t his expertise. In the beginning of your relationship, he notices your sensitivities straight away. He doesn’t bring it up at first. Thinking it’s him doing something wrong, he changes how he acts. Then it happens again and again, over things he’s plain confused by. Why does him saying “Not right now” or “I don’t care” bother you so? He was only answering your question.

The more he apologizes, the more ashamed you feel. You must start the conversation on RSD. He’d never mention it for fear he would appear rude or prying. And you’ll need to be specific about what you’re sensitive to so he can do his best to work with you. He reads all those relationship blogs and self-help magazines, hoping to find new ways to support you.

Like Aizawa, Kugo talks through what happened whenever you feel blamed or criticized. He desperately wants to understand your thinking. He hopes it’ll help you realize it wasn’t a big deal. Of course, it is a big deal when you’re sobbing and whipping yourself. But once you’ve calmed, he sits with you and just talks, openly and honestly: What about his words hurt? Was it a specific word, his tone, or what he said? Do you believe he meant to hurt you or was your mind goading itself on?

If you react with anger, he’s baffled. You asked for constructive criticism on your drawing and then when he gives it, you’re slamming your sketchbook closed and snapping at him. His go-to is to apologize. That just makes it worse because now you’re feeling angry and guilty. And his sad expression makes you absolutely incensed because why the hell isn’t he realizing that it’s not about him? And now he’s apologizing again and you’re crying and feel so exposed and threatened and judged and you can’t talk so you just run away, preferring to be forsaken than a burden.

Take the time you need to calm. Kugo will give you plenty of space. When the emotional flash dies and you realize you vilified him over nothing, find him, apologize, and explain. He appreciates both. He accepts your emotional dysregulation and all your strengths and flaws. However, he wishes you wouldn’t take your frustrations out on him. He loves you. He wants to be your backbone. But he can’t do that when you succumb to your fight-or-flight response.

To help reduce unnecessary stress, Kugo reminds you to eat right, exercise, and keep a sleep schedule. When you’re tired, he notices you’re on edge, expecting anger and rejection to come out of nowhere. He takes your phone from your fingers and carries you to bed. You’re unable to get up since he wraps you tight, so you might as well sleep. He pays attention to what you eat. If you haven't eaten healthily, he brings you a glass of water and apple slices with peanut butter. Any time you’re particularly jittery, he recommends going for a walk to get out the swirling energy. Or, if you suggest, sex to work out and get pleasure (which is always a bonus).

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aitathrowawaylmao · 1 year ago

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@bonbongiveshell hi, I'm OP, and I just want to say that E is somebody I have repeatedly tried to get rid of, which is why my question was whether or not I was TA for losing my temper, because I can't help her or stop talking to her. I would never and actually have never kept somebody as a friend of mine just to direct my anger at them; that is so unbelievably cruel no matter how bad my anger issues may have been or are. I just wanted to clear this up because I must've not been clear enough about the fact that I'm trying not to hurt E at all, I try my best despite failing a lot. There's more info under the cut (I felt compelled to explain myself sorry cause the ask was sent like weeks ago 😭)

E will sabotage my schoolwork and my grades, and I actually have no idea how I've escaped somewhat unscathed with the amount of times I've lost my temper. If you don't count the knife thing. I always apologize except for that time after the attempted theft. I know she will destroy things because I have witnessed her try it and told her to fuck off. Once I was in the classroom hiding during PE and she came in to pour water onto my classmates' bags because they'd gotten into an argument with me. I was pretty upset because of that argument and I'd lost it, yelling at her not to destroy other people's property and since I was the only one who stayed behind, I would be blamed.

Moreover, I tried multiple times to flat out tell her not to speak to me: one notable instance was when she showed porn to me in school and I told her that was disgusting, so she apologized and did it again and I ignored her for a week. Without me to harass, E directed everything to J to the point where J was overwhelmed. Like I said, E hates the teachers and anything we say to those teachers about E needing help will be perceived as an attack. She will take action. It's a little ironic because she got J in trouble for a playful shove once while we're expected to let stealing, property damage, and being impolite slide.

Currently I am not talking to E, so she's diverted her attention and energy to cracking inappropriate pornographic jokes with (at?) teachers and other classmates. J and I have come up with an ultimatum to give to her, with R ready to become involved if needed, but we have to wait because I'm stuck in a group project with E and I don't want her to tank our grades just to get back at me. Lord save me 😭😭

Just another example of her uncooperative behavior, I once was doing a live dissection for biology (group of 5) and E had ignored my time sensitive instructions for the specimen and destroyed it while I was holding the scalpel, and it was just not a great time. I did not physically harm her but what I said was quite horrible. I apologized profusely. All of us had to redo it and got a deduction. For this, I was most definitely the asshole, but I didn't like her behavior either.

To everybody who thinks E has undiagnosed issues, she almost certainly does. She has self diagnosed herself with OCD and anxiety and a bunch of other disorders, and whilst the validity of those self diagnoses isn't something I can really speak on, I have ADHD and I don't act like that. Plus she refuses any and all efforts on J, R, and my part to help her with her OCD or whatever her diagnosis du jour is. I really try to at least treat her seriously to her face no matter what I personally think. I agree that having a disorder is not an excuse for this kind of behavior, I'm just kind of stuck. Thank you for everybody who gave their thoughts I really appreciate it and sorry this got so long. If you want to ask anything else I'll try my best to answer? 😭

(And yes she says her mother is unhinged of the yelling and throwing things variety and her father is a doormat, and I really do sympathize, but she's also extremely lax with my money/property/stuff when I try to take her out for lunch or offer to have her sleep over)

AITA for repeatedly losing my temper at my kinda-friend? I (17F) have anger issues and I'm working on mitigating it, however, losing my temper always involves yelling and insulting people. Usually I think this is bad and apologize profusely when I lose control.

However, this kinda-friend (16F) who I'll call E, has absolutely no respect for other people's personal belongings, space, or time. She always grabs and plays with my things during class, or our mutual friend's items (16F), and as all three of us are artists, we carry around pretty expensive equipment. (Think Micron ink pens, Winsor & Newton paint, Derwent pencils, etc., just as reference. Thankfully no Copics lmao.)

The mutual friend will be referred to as J.

So, E has been told by both of us to stop taking our art supplies and playing with it, to the point where I'll yell sometimes, and she absolutely refuses to listen to us. She'll claim that she's forgotten what we've told her and put down the item just for her to pick it up again five seconds later. The problem is that she sometimes breaks these items or injures us - she'll play with my x-acto blade and cut me, or break J's graphite pencils, or push my watercolor palette off the desk. I've really tried to be patient about it, but it's proving to be difficult.

J is quite soft spoken, so I end up doing most of the reprimanding. E also brings up inappropriate topics that make J and I uncomfortable, as well as disturbing us when we're busy and then sulking when she doesn't get our immediate attention - once I told her three times to let me do my classwork before snapping, and E cried. She never does anything in school and hates all of our teachers, so she's pretty rude to them. All my work gets copied by her. She really annoys me, but I do feel terrible that I seem to lose control so often around E, since no one deserves to be yelled at.

However, this all came to a peak today when R (16M) and I won prizes for winning a mini-game and asking an interesting question during a seminar at school respectively; the gift was a black notebook that I didn't even like, which is an important tidbit to keep in mind. R left his gift still wrapped in his bag when he left the classroom for break time, so it was just J, E, and myself in there. Upon seeing what I had unwrapped, E went to R's bag and opened it - since all four of us are friends, we thought E was just being "jokingly" invasive as usual and were on alert, but didn't stop her.

J asked what she was doing and E said she was grabbing the gift out of R's bag. This caught my attention, so I asked why she was doing that. E told us that she wanted the book, and when J reminded her that the gift was, in fact, not hers, E said (and I wish I was kidding because this is replaying in my head in 4K HD right now like oh my god pls) "I know. It should be mine." Had she asked for my notebook, I would've given it up happily. I've got too many empty sketchbooks and notebooks at home.

I immediately stood up, but allowed J to handle the situation because I didn't trust myself not to react violently. J eventually lost her temper too and that's when I jumped in and started my yelling routine. I always feel bad whenever I do this, because it's not something I enjoy, but in this particular situation I just can't muster up the guilt? E is extremely irritating, but she tells us she has a horrible home life, so I try to be understanding. Except this was just completely intolerable. R even said that he'd predicted this would happen and to just give her the damn notebook - I vetoed that so we wouldn't enable E.

I really don't know if my reaction was overblown because I shouted a lot and said things like "you were given a brain - use it" and "you're a terrible person with no morals". It's ridiculous to say all that because it's (at the end of the day) high school drama, but I really can't understand why she acted that way. I don't know if I'm in the wrong in this situation. I wish she would listen when we tell her nicely not to do something, but even when I was blowing up at her, she was just smiling as if it was a joke. Should I apologize? I've apologized before when I lost my temper, but I have completely lost all will to be civil with her after this. The teachers are tired too - when she disappears from class or talks back, they just let her be. We can't really go to them because she'll feel betrayed and then get mad at us, which is a whole ordeal, because she's known to destroy and sabotage other people's items because of a grudge.

This is really lengthy. I apologize. I just feel terrible about the situation because I don't feel any guilt for my anger like I probably should. So, AITA?

What are these acronyms?

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corysmiles · 4 years ago

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If you're still looking for prompts, can I ask for a tiny Philza and a big Techno? So you know how Techno has ADHD and with ADHD comes hyperfixations? well, the prompt is that Techno's current hyperfixation is about borrowers, like he is OBSESSED!(it's worse than the potato wars) Phil is a borrower that finds humans completely fascinating, especially Techno. Chaos ensues (you decide) (also, I kinda of found a similar idea on my dash and that sparked this)

YES YES YES YES

t!Phil g!Techno fluff

———————————————————

Borrowers were completely fascinating to Techno, the young man spent hours studying and learning about them. He had shelves of books on them and their culture and even was majoring in borrower studies.

Ever since he had found out about the tiny people who hid in houses all across the world there was barely any time they weren’t on his mind.

No matter what he was doing his brain always liked making connections to the small beings.

So when he found evidence that one might be living in his own house he was more than ecstatic.

He was making coffee when he first noticed the small footprints left in the dust of his cabinet. At first he thought it was just a mouse until he spotted a hole in the wall with a small piece of fabric covering it.

A borrower must have been there.

Excitedly Techno started putting things out for his (hopefully) new friend. Who could blame him if the cabinet doors were always just a little bit open, or bags of food were let conveniently unsealed, he just wanted to meet the borrower living with him.

It was a late night when the man finally caught sight the borrower he had been trying to meet for weeks. He was studying for a test on borrower biology when he heard a quiet shuffling from his bookshelf.

Quietly, as to not scare whatever it was he walked over and caught a glimpse of a green cloak before it quickly dashed away into the wall.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” Techno mumbled, “If that’s what you’re worried about.”

He sat there for a couple more minutes and when there was still no sign of the borrower he sighed and returned to his desk.

This continued for the next few weeks, every hour or so he swore he saw glimpses of green out of the corner of his eye or tiny dashes of movement from within his room. It was like he was being watched or studied.

He didn’t mind it really, he just wished he’d actually get to meet whoever it was instead of just having them spy on him.

Sometimes he’d even talk out loud to himself when he was extra certain the borrower was watching.

“I’m Techno by the way,” he huffed out, “It’d be nice to meet you...I think you guys are really cool...”

As always he was met by dead silence.

It was a bit disappointing that this was the closest Techno would probably ever getting to meeting a borrower but he’d take what he could get.

This all changed though when one day one of his dogs ran into his room happily and pawed at his seat where he was studying.

“What is it Floof I’m stu-“ Techno paused as he noticed the dog was proudly holding something in its mouth.

Something green.

“Oh god spit that out!” Techno yelped as he grabbed the dogs collar and desperately tried to free the borrower from its jaws.

After a few moments he had the cloaked borrower cupped in his hands and a very grumpy dog.

“Oh jeez, are you okay?” he asked as he placed the borrower on his desk.

(His studies had told him borrowers didn’t like to be held without permission)

The cloaked borrower shook and wiped some of the saliva off of them self before nodding to the human. At least they weren’t that hurt Techno thought, although their whole body shook in fear.

“I’m fine...I’m fine,” the borrower whispered finally, “thank you for saving me.”

Techno smiled at the small person and nodded, “It’s my pleasure. It’s nice to finally meet my roommate after so long heh?”

The borrower chuckled lightly and pulled off its soaked green cloak. The tiny man had long blond hair braided into a ponytail in the back and brown patchwork clothes of fabrics from all around Techno’s house.

“Yeah, I could say the same for you... though I didn’t think our little game would end like this,” the borrower laughed slyly, “I’m Phil, by the way.”

Techno felt his heart swell at the introduction. He couldn’t believe he was finally meeting a real borrower, not looking at pictures or studying their culture. He was talking to one that not only had he saved, but also lived in his house.

“You’re so cool,” Techno felt himself mumble involuntarily causing the borrower to chuckle.

“You’re very fascinating yourself mate,” Phil said, “Yaknow most humans don’t really care about us.”

Techno shrugged nonchalantly, “I just think you guys are cool, there’s nothing weird about that...”

The borrower tilted his head to the side, “I never said it was weird mate. I’ve been doing my own research on you for a while now. I’ve never been able to get that close to a person before safely.”

Techno’s eyes widened at the idea that he was just as fascinating to the borrower as the borrower was to himself. Of course he knew he’d been watched by Phil for a while, but he didn’t know that the small man actually found him interesting.

“Oh...that’s good,” Techno mumbled awkwardly, “You’re not going to uh...you’re not gonna leave right? Because I read before that when you get caught you leave and I don’t wanna force you or anything but I’d be very happy if you stayed and maybe we could be like uh roommates or just friends or just, I don’t know, we-“

Phil waved his hands at the sputtering human to get him to stop and smiled kindly.

“I’m not gonna leave mate,” he said softly causing the human to grin, “We only leave if the humans are a threat, and you’re obviously not.”

Techno nodded quickly and the small smile returned to his face.

“I’m- I’m really glad,” Techno replied, “And I promise to make sure my pets are more well-behaved from now on.”

Phil laughed and gazed down at his saliva-stained clothes, “I sure hope so.”

Techno muttered out a weak apology that made the borrower wheeze with laughter. The two sat next to each other and talked with intense fascination for an hour before the borrower finally returned to his place in the walls.

A roommate had never really sounded nice to Techno before, but for Phil he’d make an exception.

#corywrites #t!phil #g!techno #mcyt gt #mcyt g/t #fluff

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ugly-townie · 3 years ago

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I made this account with the intention of, like, actually making Sims stuff first, but man the Pleasant Sims stuff is getting under my skin. And it's not because of her. It's because of all the NTs trying to "champion" for us when it's not at all necessary or, in this case, warranted.

I want to make one thing clear: It was not at all appropriate for Cindy to make fun of this person's appearance, whether they were a minor or not. That is always an unnecessarily low blow, and it rubs me the wrong way.

But for all of you saying that Cindy bullied a child for being autistic...

Please shut up.

ESPECIALLY you neurotypicals.

I am autistic. I have ADHD. And I have owned and modded servers in the past. I also have basic reading comprehension.

Cindy was not annoyed at this person because they were autistic. She didn't even know they were autistic until later. She was annoyed because of the spamming. And I don't blame her! Spamming is fucking annoying.

Now, would I have mocked the spamming person's appearance or some other uncontrollable ""flaw"" of theirs behind their back to my mods? I sure as hell hope not. But whether they were autistic or not, I'd sure as hell be annoyed. Spamming is overwhelming to me, and it really agitates me. And if you choose to take "Cindy hates autistic kids!" out of that, that is entirely a you issue.

Additionally, CINDY APOLOGIZED, THE OTHER PERSON ACCEPTED, AND IT WAS WATER UNDER THE BRIDGE. Y'all...really like to neglect that detail! LMAO.

You can point out the things someone has done wrong without spreading wrong information. You can say "It's shitty that she made fun of someone's appearance—a minor's, no less" without tacking on "Cindy hates autistic people". Stop using autism to get to this false moral high ground, especially if you're neurotypical. It is not hard, LMAO. Y'all are like paparazzi trying to get out of context pictures for tabloids. It's gross. Learn a bit about gathering information before writing exposés please.

#autism #pleasantsims #actually autistic #neurotypicals please shut up challenge #epic fail

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seasidefallenangel · 4 years ago

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hq characters with a neurodivergent s/o

✰ neurodivergency refers to someone with adhd and/or autism.

sugawara koushi;

○ he tries his best to offer as much support as possible. he can’t say he understands a lot of it, but he absolutely sympathizes with you. you don’t have to worry a ton when you have more off days, or in the event you have rsd, that he’ll get upset with your feelings. he knows you genuinely can’t help it, and very rarely gets upset to point where he’d need a little distance from you

○ picks up on the concept of hyperfixations fairly easily. he can’t even begin to imagine how horrible it is - if one day he woke up and his passions meant nothing to him anymore. if you have a hard time making friends because of how quickly and intensely your interests change, he makes an effort to try and get into some of the new stuff you pick up. he can’t always guarantee he’ll like it or anything, but he’s always willing to listen to you infodump

○ if he spots any sort of fidget toy/stressball/etc, he’ll buy one for you. he’s not sure if they actually help you a lot, but you always seem super grateful for it. he’ll take notice of what ones you tend to reach for more and try to gear towards getting those ones for you

○ as patient as he is, he does have his moments where he can get overwhelmed with you. times where your impulsivity, aggression or other symptoms of neurodivergency become too much for him to handle can lead to him snapping a little. he’ll make sure to leave the room as he knows it’s not your fault and you don’t act like this on purpose, but he’s only human. he makes sure afterwards to let you know he’d never blame you for what you can’t help, and to not be too hard on yourself in these situations

nishinoya yuu;

○ there’s honestly a fair chance he had adhd himself, even if he doesn’t realize it. you’ve never explicitly said you think he is to his face, but sometimes you hint that the way you treat certain things is really similar

○ he’s a big believer that being spontaneous keeps a relationship fun and interesting, which is both a blessing and a curse. on some days, something new and unknown is exactly what you need to stimulate your brain and keep your attention. other days it’s hard to find purpose in doing anything at all, and keeping up with his energy proves to be difficult

○ he really doesn’t want to get annoyed with you, but it tends to happen pretty often. he recognizes you’re not purposefully trying to make him mad and in return he’ll try his hardest to never lash out at you. there’s been a few moments where it was just impossible to control himself (another sign of someone who’s nd, you noted afterwards), but both of you understand each others grievances and are able to work past it

kageyama tobio;

○ at first, he’s not going to take you seriously. he’s the type to say that you're just avoiding your problems, making up excuses, overreacting. the “if you want to do something, then just do it” type of person. he doesn’t really think he’s coming off as being an asshole, but when there’s a very noticeable rift between the two of you, he starts racking his brain for what might’ve made you upset and eventually puts two and two together

○ it takes time, as many things like this do. you’ll have to really sit down and explain things to him, and he slowly starts to understand. he’ll tell you some of this stuff reminds him of himself before brushing it off and never questioning it again. you absolutely suspect he’s on the spectrum but won’t bring it up until he either asks you or starts thinking about it himself - which happens when you accidentally mention how volleyball seems to be his special intrest

○ it can be... difficult to say the least. he can’t really keep up all that well with sudden shifts and the irritability you often show over things that seemingly don’t matter. sometimes it’s hard for him to not take things personally, and the fact you two seem so similar in this regard raises a fair amount of problems. you both have to learn from the issues and work together to co-exist peacefully, but it’s very worth it in the end

tsukishima kei;

○ tsukishima will pick on almost anyone for almost anything. this is something he will absolutely never joke about. he made the mistake once early on - something about a test grade - and had to deal with your emotional outburst, following a meltdown, over how you tried so hard but nothing makes sense. you can’t just sit in a class and learn like he does, you’ll never be normal, never be good enough-

○ he had to stop the downward spiral in the middle of the sidewalk, but he was too shaken up to worry about embarrassment. that sort of reaction wasn’t normal by any means, and when he got home that night he tried looking into why exactly that happened. the complete shift in attitude the next day was jarring you to, but the genuine apology was even more jarring. he doesn’t apologize easily, but something about having made fun of a neurological disorder you’ve suffered with your whole life just doesn’t sit well in his stomach

○ he picks up extremely quickly, even for him. he’s very perceptive of when you’re more on-edge than usual and reminds himself to be patient with you. he’s not coddling in public (unless you’re having some sort of breakdown or panic attack) but it’s noticeable that he doesn’t make any sort of jabs at you like he does with most others

○ helps tutor you without any gripes. he won’t lie and say he gets how hard it is for you to understand certain concepts, but he’s aware things don’t come as easily to other people like it does to him. very thorough in explaining whatever you have difficulty with and tries coming up with real life examples to help it make more sense. if it does become too much for him (he’s still a high schooler regardless of how he acts), he’ll end the session and let you know it’s nobody’s fault

kuroo tetsurou;

○ one of, if not at the top of the list, the best people to date if you’re neurodivergent. he takes this extremely seriously and doesn’t doubt you at all when you explain how it feels like everyday your disorder slowly rips you apart until there’s nothing left. every part of your life is affected by this and he wants to be able to help you feel as normal as possible despite everything weighing you down

○ puts a lot of time and research into your disorders. he wants to understand what’s helpful and what’s counterproductive without bothering you about it since he doesn’t know if you might react badly. he has a very good balance of figuring out how to help you cope in certain scenarios even if they’re not ideal and removing you from a situation where things are just too heavy for you to handle

○ he really stresses how important it is you talk to him about your boundaries, things you need, moments where you’re overwhelmed, etc. he can’t imagine life has been that easy for you thus far and tries to do everything he can, from helping with schoolwork, getting fidget toys, introducing you to new things that may help, and anything in between. he never wants you to feel as if you’re a burden or difficult because of what you can’t control, and will bend over backwards to prove it

kozume kenma;

○ kenma is fairly well versed in online topics and this is one that comes up often. given how perceptive he is towards the world around him, he was pretty easily able to figure out that something was different about you far before you started dating. he doesn’t speak about it much with you but does a lot behind-the-scenes to help make everyday life easier

○ given that kenma is always getting into new games and franchises, he’s able to help make the time in between hyperfixations more bearable. you had described to him how empty and monotone everything feels when you aren’t focused on something specific and he really hates picturing you so lifeless because your brain just won’t let you consume things normally. even if you aren’t playing the game so much as just watching his do it, he feels better knowing there’s something distracting you

○ something important to remember is that you’re not the only one who can act out or get overwhelmed easily. kenma hates being pushed out of his comfort zone and imagines it the same for you, so he makes sure to never put you in a place where you might face sensory overload or anything of the sort. he expects the same treatment back. infodumping is fine and he’ll nod and listen to you, but if there’s a point where you become suffocating then he’ll ask you to take a step back and give him a moment. wants to avoid triggering anything rsd-related so he’ll specify this isn’t your fault and that everyone makes him feel this way at some point

oikawa tooru;

○ quite possibly one of the worst people to go through this with you at the start. oikawa puts his soul into everything he does even if it shatters him, so some of your behaviors might not sit well with him. a lot of people who are neurodivergent have something they naturally excel in and in the same vein, end up dropping or disregarding because they no longer hyperfocus on it. it reminds him too much of a certain kouhai who had all the ability oikawa did with none of the years of practice it took him to get there, and puts a bad taste in your mouth

○ explain to him it’s not fair that he treats you in a way that implies you enjoy living like this, because you’d give anything to keep interests you have for longer than a few weeks or months, regardless of how much you try to force yourself to stay into it. he re-evaluates himself and realizes he’s in the wrong. he’ll never fully understand how it affects you but he’ll listen and learn about it, ask questions, study how he can help. he compares how you hyperfixate to how much he’ll focus on volleyball and knows this has to be an equally giving relationship in regards to respecting the other interests

○ he’ll have his moments where he can’t pretend that he’s able to handle your mood swings and inability to just sit down and pay attention to something. you tell him he wouldn’t be normal if he was somehow okay with everything you do. an afternoon where he practices in the gym by himself and you sit and binge watch something is good enough for some breathing room without causing any unclosable rift to appear. he’ll may sure he’s listening intently when he comes home and you go into detail about a new hobby of yours. he’s trying his absolute best, i promise you

bokuto koutaro;

○ it’s highly likely bokuto has adhd himself. it’s one of those things adults just say to kids when they’re being hyperactive without actually knowing all the things that come with having adhd, but the older bokuto got the more he looked into it and realized it might actually be a thing for him. there’s a lot of neurodivergent-related issues you have that sometimes fly over his head or he has to go back and think about again, but he’s the last person who ever wants to cause any issues for you

○ he’ll ask you questions regarding if you think he has adhd and some of the signs that make it recognizable. he’s terrified at the idea volleyball might just be a hyperfixation of his, but feels much better when you explain special interests and how if anything it would fall under that category for him. these conversations are a very intimate bonding moment for both of you, given how vulnerable you really have to be to let all your weaknesses be known without worry of ridicule. he wouldn’t trade the knowledge of having your trust so deeply for the world

○ bokuto, for as supportive as he is, can stimulate your brain in a bad way. he’s easily excitable and often has volume issues, and more than a few times has he triggered sensory overload for you. he feels horrible whenever it happens and wants to comfort you so badly, but knows the best thing is for him to just quiet down and leave you be. he never takes it personally and goes into “emo mode” because he knows how serious it can be. the only time he’ll get close in this moments is if you have a panic attack because of it in which case he tries helping you steady your breath and stop shaking. normally you’d hate being touched when you’re like this, but his arms and warmth work wonders for your psyche

tendou satori;

○ it’s terrifying how in-tune he is with you. it’s almost like you’re just talking about the weather instead of you trying to scratch the skin off your arm while your brain got the better of you. stimming, hyperfocusing, lack of interest, social interaction issues, you can talk to him about literally anything related to your neurodivergency and he’ll be on the exact same wavelength as you. he’s able to adapt very easily and can read your irritability, mood swings and any triggers you might have. is excellent at getting you out a situation before it becomes too much for you to bear

○ tendou is another character who always has something new to show you, so he’s also very good at filling the gap between hyperfixations. he’s somehow able to completely keep up with your infodumping and even will do something similar of the sort right back you. he loves finding new games and anime and will automatically partake in anything you show him. it really helps you mentally since you never feel like you’re talking too much or uncomfortably passionate about anything since he seems so genuinely interested in what you have to say

○ is extremely protective and defensive of you when it comes to others questioning why you act a certain way or do certain things. there’s probably a little bit of a personal tie there since he got bullied for being different when he was a kid, and he absolutely hates when people are derided because they don’t follow the falsely conceived notion of normalcy. you’re not harming anyone, why should it matter what you’re doing? if you’re insecure about stimming in public though, he invests in fidgets cubes for you to keep in your pockets to play with secretly so nobody notices anything out of the ordinary. his main goal is to make sure you’re happy no matter how much your head tries to tell your otherwise. really, he just loves you more than anything else

kita shinsuke;

○ if anyone else treated this the way mr. no gaps does, you’d absolutely freak out on them - but for some reason since it’s kita it comes off as comforting. he’s the type that doesn’t let you use disorders as a restriction or excuse to let yourself settle for mediocrity, but he makes it obvious that he wants to see you thrive despite the things holding you back. he’ll never put you in a situation he thinks will trigger any sort of attack, rather things he know you can handle if you put a little more faith in yourself and your abilities

○ if he sees you’re spiraling and can’t take any sort of outside forces interacting with you a ton then he’ll make sure you have a day or two off to yourself. he won’t criticize or ridicule you for anything and goes along with whatever whims you feel (or in same cases, don’t feel like doing anything at all.) understands there’s a very important balance you need to maintain in order to go through life feeling even semi-decent and doesn’t want to jeopardize any progress you’ve made towards helping yourself

○ likes to play casual volleyball in the backyard when you’re stable and attentive enough to understand what’s going on around you. if it becomes a hyperfixation of yours then he’ll be glad to go more in depth so long as it doesn’t hit a point where it’s damaging your ability to interact with anything else. he’s a big believer that moving your body and being outside helps relax you, even if you’re not enthusiastic at the moment about it. he won’t let anybody - not your family, not an outsider, not even yourself - look down on you for any disability you have

✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:* 　　 *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

✰ this was stupid self indulgent but idc!! i’m neurodivergent myself and let it be known that if you say you have hyperfixations and you’re not nd i will stick your arm in a deep fryer <3

#sugawara koushi x reader #nishinoya yu x reader #kageyama tobio x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kenma kozume x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #bokuto kotarou x reader #tendou satori x reader #kita shinsuke x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!!#haikyuu headcanons #fluff #headcanons #haikyuu

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calehenituseappreciation · 4 years ago

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i hc wilbur made tommy president because he planned to go and press the button while tommy spoke and kill him along with himself

wilbur wanted end all his unfinished symphonies and as the person who raised tommy- he raised him like he raised l'manberg. he doesnt care for fundy- not since he denounced him- so he wanted to end him :)

i need a fic where tommy is the one who goes to stop wilbur and wilbur fucking stabs him before pressing the button saying "it was never meant to be" tommy loses both first and last lives to that phrase

tommys last words are it was always meant to be fucking wilbur survives the explosion and has no one to kill him and now he has to live with the consqunces tommy becomes toast- short for ghost tommy i refuse to write so many letters each time- and immeditly looks for his older brothers and he finds wilbur first :) wilbur is exiled for his crimes and also out of fear- they tried to rehabilate him! they really did but then he freaked out over seeing toast... in a bad way.... and he and toast burned georges house on toast suggest (maybe we should burn something! that always helps me calm down!) this is after wilbur is trusted enough to be not... in a prison... after phil convinced them he needs help and toast tries his best ok- (WHO LEFT WILBUR WITH TOAST!) (I THOUGHT IT WAS A GOOD IDEA AT THE TIME! I WAS ONLY LEAVING FOR FIVE MINUTES! AND RANBOO WAS THERE TOO!) and toast tries to go with but everyone is like "yeah no" and toast is like "whhhhyyy i just wanna stay with wilby!" and everytime anyone tries to tell tommy about the wrongs that have happened to him he screams and clutches his head in pain and everytime he comes back he doesnt remember the convo toast,,, is the most BABY toast calls everyone cutesy nicknames unironcially he calls eret rere toast, chriping happily: TECHIE!!!! tubbo: TOMMY STAY AWAY FROM HIM! toast, in a very lost and confused voice: why? techno, freaking out: tommy? toast: hi!!!!!!! im toast!!!!!! :D techno: lowkey ab to cry toast: NOOOOOOOO DUN CRI! toast: there there techie... i know what will help! tubbo, sighing: arson? toast: ARSON! phil comes just in time to find tommys dead body and l'manberg gone hes not around for the withers neither hes there just to see the crater and wilbur in chains with blood on his hands trying to off himself phil will forever blame himself for not making it in time :> dream: taking wilbur away in boat toast, floating behind the boat: o^o dream do you have any games on your phone .///^///. looks at exileinnit hmmm spins roulette wheel who should i hurt... i picked d all of the above they dont let toast go with him but because he is baby and you can't tell him what to do tubbo: sighs finally now that the exiles done toast can you- tubbo: looks up tubbo: GOADDAMN IT

toast is promptly kidnapped back to l'manberg the next day toast keeps going back tho and no one understands why- he literally killed him! why does he keep wanting to go back! (toasts unfinished buisness keeping him tied was helping wilbur and l'manberg- he loved wilbur even at his worst)

toast vibes around everyone but he stays with wilbur- where ever wilbur goes is where he builds his home

its shitty but its an 'ome Toast, teary eyed: Dad? Why does everyone hate Wilby? Why can't I be with him... Phil, with no idea what to do: niki bakes cakes with niki whenever hes in l'manberg he keeps accidently setting her bakery on fire but hes sMOL AND GIGGLES A LOT AND HE HAS FLOUR ON HE GODDAMN SELF toast is a part of mexican l'manberg i dont make the rules mexican dream: AYYYYYYYYY HOMIE toast, giggling: 'OMIE!!!!!

Toast is wholesome while everyone is literally willing to murder Wilbur while also trying to stop him from khs toast is just a very happy lovely child and cries whenever anyone is mean to 'his big brother wilby!' and so they all constantly glare daggers over toasts shoulder wherenever he cant see em meanwhile Phil is just dying inside because Tommy is a ghost by Wilbur's hands and Wilbur keeps trying to commit suicide and oh god what is he supposed to do- he simply avoids this struggle by avoiding them toast, waddling up to philza: papa do you have any games on your phone? all im saying is that tommy called phil papa before changing to dad or fathercraft phil,in the tired parent voice: tommy please sit down- just for five minutes- at least for 5 minutes toast: sits down and then proceeds to struggle to continue to sit but he must because dad told him to toast is just ADHD incarnate wilbur, trying to end himself: im gonna escape my consequences toast: HI!!!!! :D wilbur: FUCK ITS MY CONSEQUENCES toast,,,, is so baby Wilbur is just not allowed to have anything remotely sharp i like how theres so much angst and im just hyper focusing on ba yby dream uses toast the same way he uses ghostbur! :D toast doesnt realize of course even after wilbur tells him dream is bad but he keeps forgetting!!! Everyone: da baby Dream: how can I profit from this oh dream is manipulating wilbur btw wilbur: suffering toast: i made you a card toast trusts eret wholeheartedly and this hurts eret because she knows if toast remembered he probably wouldnt- they wanted redemption but not like this- not because of death Toast: you look cool Toast: you are friend now Eret: sobs I don't deserve this Toast: what did I do wrong Toast: how can I help friend!!!!! Eret: sobbing more toast looks at everyone says "ah! friend shaped!" if ur wondering wheres the angst toast is the angst- toast is just tommy without any bad memories and hes so different they thought he was happy before they thought he was fine tommy was hurt too but since he internalized it no one cared toast sees wilbur being sad and goes! i know what will help! n-not arson tho people dont like arson when you do it.... BUT ITS OKAY! I BROUGHT A FRIEND! shows friend, the sheep and wilbur just fucking sobs Toast is wholesome chaotic in a perfect mix- toast is tommy but without the 'asshole on purpose as a self defense mechanism" someone mentioned something about Tommy masking insecurities once Toast doesn't remember. and he's fine with that he doesn't have any insecurities toast hurts because in retrospect toast, meeting bad: WOAAAAAAH! YOU LOOK SO FUCKING COOL! bad: LANGUAGE! toast, cringing back, looking at the ground: ..sorry :( bad: ...you can swear toast: :D bad: once toast hasnt sworn since "hes saving it for special occasions" sometimes he accidently swears and immedtly gasps and looks at bad and bad just sighs and is like "its okay it was an accident" bad never would have thought itd take letting tommy swear for him to stop huh... its almost like... hes a child.... and the negetive reienforcement.... was doing more harm then good.... toast: exists in an amount of happiness no one has ever seen him in before everyone: pain how much pain was tommy in before? they thought tommy was happy- was... was he not happy? he's so unabashedly joyful and energetic looking back they can see how forced every laugh felt, every smile- He's not afraid to just talk to people, make new friends he became so much more cautious after Eret, had it really effected him that badly? He's open. He never lies about how he's feeling, never brushes anything away how much was Tommy hiding, how much pain, how much fear- It's chilling. bone chilling. There's no way to fix what's been lost. No way to apologize to who Tommy used to be, to try and make it better. None of them every bothered to see him as anything more than a nuisance, an annoying child or cannon fodder and they'll regret it for the rest of their lives everyone: having a mental crisis toast: GUYYYYSS!! I MADE ANOTHER FRIEND!!!

"Wilby?" Wilbur heard Tommys voice say in an innocent tone.

Was he hearing things? Tommy's dead. He killed him himself.

"Wilby why are you in prison?" The image of his little brother asked, "Did you commit arson without me?" it asked in a pout.

"TOMMY!" Tubbo yelled running into the cell where Wilbur was kept, going through the bars with ease, "Tommy get away from him!"

"But 'ubbo!!!! Wilby is 'ere!!!!" Tommy (?) said with a smile Wilbur hadn't seen since Tommy was a child.

"Tommy, I understand you don't remember anything right now but you need to come back over here!" Tubbo demanded and Tommy flinched

Wilbur was struck with the sudden realization that this isn't just his mind- no no it can't be- but Tubbo acknowledged him he has to- Wilbur reached his locked hands towards Tommy only for him to pass through him. What? No no it was just his imagination that makes sense.

"Oh sorry Wil! I'm kinda dead! I don't remember how i died... but i think im a ghostie!" Tommy said plainly, floating off the floor. Wilbur looked at him in confusion. Whats happening?

the first time toast sees the crater toast srceams in intense amount of pain- its so loud you can hear it all over the smp- and just dissapears for a few days before reappearing with no memories of what happened toast saying things tommy thought but never said- he calls eret "big brother" and eret fucking d i e s toast cals all the l'manbergians older siblings He's far too honest for anyone to handle tommy was always honest too but he learned from experince that honesty only lead to hurt Tommy was like an enderchest, you could never see beyond the exterior, everything inside was exclusive to him and him alone Toast is like when someone dies and all their fuckin items explode onto the ground. you just see everything and most of it was pain and everyone feels bad because they thought he was the only one uneffected that nothing had ever put a damper on his happiness and energetic smile- at what point had that smile became fake? also for angst reasons the last memory toast has is before the elections toast has uwu boy vibes but more chaotic toast goes to dream smp from logstedshire purely for sam nook toast starts making his hotel since he sees nobody has a home (including dream LMAO) (and he wants to make a safe place since everyone keeps saying something about war) and wants to make one and asks sam for help since apparently hes good at building and sam lets him pay after he finishs the hotel and sam nook is there since day one because i dont think i could handle a world without sam nook toast: biting everyone tubbo: wHY DO YOU DO THAT?????? toast: once techie bit all the cupcakes and then said it was his cuz he bit it so im biting everyone to show their mine!!!!! tubbo: i- tubbo: i am both flattered and disgusted everyone, remembering how tommy used to bite everyone upon meeting and then everyone would get mad at him and yell at him until he stopped biting people on meeting: sadly whips and nae naes hes a BABY toast deserves the fucking world also i havent talked ab it but there is wilbur and fundy angst here fundy confronts wilbur also not that fundy is angry about not not not getting murdered by his father but also why does he consider tommy his unfinished sympohny and not him? he raised fundy too- maybe he just only ever loved tommy (based off his insecurity of how close wilbur and tommy are based off wilbur raising tommy and wilbur only being there for fundy by the time he was older and also using hybrid age go nyoom for this dream manipulates toast during wilburs exile along with wilbur and toast realizes both of them were being used by him and fucking screams lourder than he ever has before and dissapears for a week and then shows up at technos house (he got lost and he didnt know why he was at logsted shire- he doesnt remember the place) on the day of the excution and tries to help technoblade but keeps forgetting that everyone is trying to kill techno the butcher army is hesitant when "hey why are you all attacking big brother Techy-" "HE SPAWNED WITHERS IN L'MANBERG!" "he did?" toast asked tilting his head in confusion "YES! HE DID! AFTER YOU DIED! NOW WHERE IS HE TOAST! WE NEED TO CAPTURE HIM!" whenever tubbo talks ab how theyre planning on excuting techno or how there was no trial toast has flashbacks to tubbos excution but hes never able to hold on to the memories just leaving him feeling bad toast sees anything traumatic and just makes the blue screen noise toast has to reboot every time anything truamatic happens and when he does he doesnt remember what happens after

toast hurts on a "THE FUCKING IMPLICATIONS OF THIS" level just.. everyone trying to make up for not noticing tommys hurt and trying to be good to toast when its already too late... far too late glatt is also here because whenever ytoast dissapears after something trauamtic he bounces back to the land of the dead for the bit and sometimes he drags glatt out to the land of the living with him only works bc toast has unfinished buisness so he can freely go between and just stays in the land of the lving until he can finish his unfiinshed buisness ghostbur and toast wouldve been good friends if they ever met anyone yells at toast and he immeditly starts sobbing

basically when everything is calm and peaceful and everyone is happy together after dream is in prison and toast is like "oh... this is what ive always wanted"

"toast?" tubbo asked, confused toast smiled softly, "i think its time for me to go" "what?" wilbur asked his pitch unusually high due to the fear lacing his voice "i think... i think this was my unfinished buisness... this is the last thing i wanted when i was alive, the reason i stayed... i think its finally my time to go now" toast said smiling tearfully "no! you vcan't go! we just got you back!"

basically when everything is finally ok, when things finally calm down toast fades back to the void/afterlife thing

#dream smp #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #dream smp hcs #dream smp au #dsmp

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bubonickitten · 5 years ago

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Summary: Jon goes back to before the world ended and tries to forge a different path.

Previous chapter: AO3 // tumblr

Chapter 15 full text & content warnings below the cut.

CWs for Chapter 15: mentions of Buried-related trauma (claustrophobia, etc.); a somewhat lengthy discussion of recurrent suicidal ideation (including some informal safety planning); panic/anxiety symptoms; mild self-harm (as a stim to distract from anxiety/intrusive thoughts); swears; mentions of starvation & restrictive behaviors re: Jon’s statement dependence (also some internalized ableism re: the substance dependence/addiction parallels); internalized victim blaming; post-traumatic stress reactions/flashbacks re: Jonah-typical awfulness. SPOILERS through Season 5.

Also, apologies in advance, but ADHD!Jon Went Off for several paragraphs at one point in this chapter and I (and by extension Martin) just let him run with it. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Chapter 15: What Comes After

Jon sits on the floor with his back to the wall, waiting as Basira helps Daisy wash away nearly eight months of grime. Through the closed door and underneath the rapid drumbeat of water, he can make out a steady stream of murmured conversation, punctuated by the occasional sob or bitten-back groan of pain. The words are indistinct, but Jon doesn’t need to Know what is being said to guess the gist of it.

Eventually, the shower turns off. It takes several more minutes before the door opens. Even though Jon knows what to expect, he has to suppress a sympathetic grimace when he lays eyes on Daisy.

She sits hunched forward on the closed toilet lid, damp hair hanging limp around her face and dripping onto the tile floor. There is a sickly pallor to her skin, mottled with bruising and scrubbed-raw patches of pink. The clothes she’s wearing are her own – Basira never could bring herself to discard her things – but they no longer fit. Her shirt practically drowns her emaciated frame now, hanging loose off of one shoulder and exposing the hollows of her collarbone. The dark shadows under her puffy, bloodshot eyes might just rival Jon’s.

“Better?” Jon gives her a weak half-smile.

“Cleaner,” Daisy says hoarsely, staring listlessly at the floor.

“Your turn,” Basira says, meeting Jon’s eyes and jerking her head back towards the shower. “Left the shower stool in there for you. Clean clothes are on the counter.”

“Thanks,” Jon says, but he doesn't move. Part of his brain is telling him to stand; another, more reasonable part is just now realizing that sitting on the floor in the first place was probably a bad idea.

“Do you, uh – need help?”

“No,” Jon says hurriedly, “that – won’t be necessary.”

“No, I wasn’t suggesting –” Basira sighs, flustered. “I just meant that maybe you want to wait until Georgie gets here?”

Now that the adrenaline is fading, Jon’s skin is crawling with every moment the Buried still clings to him. Every slight movement sends loose dirt raining down onto the floor. He needs a shower.

“If you could just help me stand up, I should be able to handle the rest.”

Basira gives a curt nod, quickly recovering from the awkward moment, and hauls him to his feet. Steadying himself against the wall with one hand, he tests putting weight on his bad leg.

“Daisy still needs to see a doctor, and –” Basira frowns, watching Jon wince as he takes a step forward. “Are you sure you’ll be alright? You’re not going to – pass out and drown in two inches of water, are you?”

It wouldn’t kill me, Jon tries to say, wry and only half-joking.

“Not enough to kill me outright,” he says instead. When he feels that familiar static-laden filter slide into place in his mind, he freezes. Before the fear can properly move in, though, Basira’s voice cuts through his stirring panic.

“You’re alright, Jon,” she says, authoritative but without heat. “Just breathe through it, remember?”

Jon nods distractedly, shutting his eyes and focusing on his own breathing. It takes a minute, but the pressure eventually eases enough for him to hear himself think again.

“Are you okay?” Daisy asks, brow furrowed.

“Yes. Sorry.” Just those two simple words are a struggle to vocalize, but once he manages, the rest of the weight lifts from his thoughts. He glances at Basira. “I’m sorry, it just – slipped out, and –”

“It’s fine.” Basira looks him up and down. “I think maybe you should wait for Georgie, though.”

“I’ll be fine. It’s just my leg, and I’m used to dealing with that on my own.”

“I thought you injured your ribs.”

“Archivist,” he says with a shrug – a mistake, he realizes a moment too late, as it disturbs his injuries. He just barely manages to avoid flinching. “I heal quickly.”

The truth is, his ribs are unlikely to fully heal until he gets a statement in him. In fact, the last time, his weakness only started to fade after he’d taken a live statement. He’d rather not dwell on that right now, though.

“Hm.” Basira fixes him with a skeptical look.

“I’ll be alright, I promise. You should see to Daisy.”

“No,” Daisy says. Both Basira and Jon glance over at her. A noticeable full-body shiver sweeps over her, and Basira grabs a dry towel from the small stack on the counter.

“You need professional medical attention,” Basira says firmly, wrapping the towel around Daisy and adjusting it to cover her bare arms. “I’m taking you to A&E.”

Daisy ignores her, raising her head to look at Jon instead.

“I was thinking I could – stay, if you want?” She casts her eyes down again and her voice drops to a low murmur. “It’s just – the shower, it’s – a tight space, and – and it might…”

Jon bites the inside of his cheek. It’s true: the shower stall is tiny. Claustrophobic. The room itself is small and poorly ventilated; steam builds up within a minute of the shower being turned on, turning the air thick and stifling with humidity. The single dim light in the ceiling has a tendency to flicker; the bulb has been known to come loose from time to time, plunging the area into near-darkness.

It isn’t the Buried, but there’s enough here to bring the Coffin to mind on a bad day – and especially right now, less than two hours out of the place.

The last time, Daisy never could manage to use the shower without someone else in the room to keep her company. When Basira was unavailable, she would turn to Jon. Eventually, he got comfortable with her returning the favor. It became a routine, but…

“I’ll be okay,” he says again. Unconvincingly, judging from the way Daisy’s eyes narrow at him.

“Do you really want to be alone right now?”

“I…”

No, I don’t. I really, really don’t.

“Look, I’m not trying to make it – weird,” Daisy continues, fiddling with one corner of her towel. “It’s not like I’ll see you through the curtain. I just thought – maybe you could use some company? Don’t say ‘I’m fine,’” she says as he opens his mouth to respond. “Just because you can deal with it alone doesn’t mean you should have to.”

“Well, yes, but –”

“Do you not want me here? Because if you really want me to leave, I will, but –”

“No, I wouldn’t mind the company, honestly, but –”

“Then I’ll stay.” She looks at Basira, as if daring her to object.

Last time, she did object, Jon remembers. Now, though… Basira simply sighs.

“Fine. But,” she adds emphatically, giving Daisy a severe look, “I’m taking you to A&E as soon as Georgie gets here, and you don’t get to argue.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Daisy says with a tired grin.

“Liar,” Basira says, shaking her head with a fond, amused sort of resignation. “I’ll be just outside if you need me.”

As Basira leaves, Jon catches Daisy’s eye.

“Thank you,” he murmurs.

“Thank you,” Daisy says at the exact same time. “For not leaving me.”

Their tentative, exhausted smiles are mirror images of one another as understanding passes between them.

Someone upstairs has a statement.

The Archivist Knew the moment she mounted the steps to the Institute. She was marked by the Spiral, the Hunt, and the Lonely in quick succession, but the Archivist can only barely make out the edges of the story: how she was pursued through a nonsensical, constantly-shifting maze of alleyways by a hulking thing that always stayed one step behind, never letting her escape but never deigning to actually catch her.

There was no one in that place to hear her screams. Now, all she wants is to be heard.

The Archivist can give that to her. It would be so easy, so right. She came to the Magnus Institute of her own volition, didn’t she? She’s here to give her statement. The Archivist can take it from her and preserve her voice and relive her story for the rest of –

Jon twists his fingers in his hair and pulls until it hurts.

“You need to sit down,” Georgie says for the third time in as many minutes.

“Just keeping warm.”

It’s not necessarily a lie. The perpetual damp chill of the tunnels seeps into Jon’s bones in spite of his three layers of clothing and Georgie’s scarf wrapped twice around his neck. Beyond that, though, fevered movement is the only thing keeping him from falling to pieces. If he stops or slows, it will become all the more obvious how badly he’s trembling and all the more difficult to ignore the hunger gnawing away at him.

“You’re not even pacing, you’re just – limping.” When he doesn’t reply, Georgie reaches out and touches his shoulder. “Sit. We have some time before Martin gets here.”

With a sigh, Jon finally capitulates, sinking into the nearest chair. Immediately, he starts to jiggle one leg, fingers tapping restlessly on his knees.

“Talk to me, Jon,” Georgie says, taking a seat opposite him. “What’s on your mind?”

“I… I don’t know. It’s – a lot, and…”

He trails off, unsettled at the sound of his own voice, shaking almost as badly as the rest of him. His mouth has gone too dry to comfortably swallow, and every passing thought feels blurry around the edges, too ephemeral to translate into the spoken word. The only thing coming through loud and clear is the need and the knowledge that he has the means to sate it, if he would only embrace it.

There are no words to describe the experience, nor does he wish to verbalize it in the first place. As for the rest of it…

“Of course now I can talk,” he says with a weak laugh, “I suddenly don’t know what to say.”

“Take your time.”

Jon hunches forward, allowing himself to rock back and forth in slight movements as he tries to gather his thoughts.

“I’m –” Hungry. Terrified. Exhausted. Weak. Hungry, craving, needing, wanting – “At a loss.”

“About why you can talk again?”

Yes. Sure. He can go with that. It isn’t a lie, and it feels like a safer topic than all the rest.

“In part. I don’t understand why I have my voice back, or what that means, and of course my mind is immediately going to the worst-case explanations, and” – now he’s started, he rapidly gains momentum, his speech growing pressured and frantic – “I should just be grateful that I can use my own words again, but I can’t just let it go, because when have I ever been able to just let something go, and –” He tugs on a lock of hair again, letting out a self-deprecating chuckle. “Unsurprisingly, I hate not knowing.”

“Well… how about starting with that? Give me some theories. Might help to get them out of your head for a minute.”

“Most of it comes down to… I don’t know – why now, I suppose? I don’t have an answer to that, which just makes me think – did I have a choice all along?” It’s a question that has been plaguing him for hours, sitting poised and ready to spring in the back of his mind, but as he finally speaks it aloud, a chill comes over him. His voice fractures like a crack spreading weblike through thin ice. “This whole time, was I just… not trying hard enough?”

“I don’t think –”

“It was the same with taking statements,” he blurts out, wide-eyed and wound taut. “When the others discovered what I was doing, I stopped, which means I – I could have done all along, and just – didn’t.”

“You implied before that you were sort of – influenced?” Georgie’s voice is thoughtful, not accusatory; her expression searching, but not judgmental. Jon can feel his shoulders relax just slightly.

“‘Influenced’ is one way to put it, yes. But not controlled, exactly – not quite. It was – instinctual, almost? And once a story starts, it’s sort of like – being in a trance, I suppose.”

“I remember you having a kind of… faraway look to you, when I was telling you my story.”

“It wasn’t like that in the very beginning,” he says, watching his fingers curl on his bouncing knees. “I don’t know when they started having that effect on me. I… didn’t even notice the change. Didn’t notice that I was physically dependent on them until I was traveling. Started to get sick the longer I went without them. And when I woke up… just reading statements wasn’t enough anymore.” He draws in a measured breath. Gathers his thoughts. Exhales slowly. “The first time, I was just shopping. I felt – unwell, hazy. Then he was there, and I just – Asked, before I even realized what was happening. The next time was just after Melanie stabbed me –”

“She what?”

“It was – sort of deserved,” Jon says, waving it off. He continues before Georgie can get another word in. “I felt – drained, after. Thought I just needed some air, so I went for a walk. Wasn’t long before I crossed paths with my next – victim. Didn’t realize until much later that I must have been… hunting, subconsciously. Like a fugue, almost. But just before I Asked, I had this moment where I – I knew what I was about to do, and I just – did it anyway. And then the third time was –”

“After the Coffin,” Georgie guesses. The look on her face is that mixture of sadness and pity that haunted Jon in their shared nightmares for so long.

“Yes.” Jon keeps his eyes downcast. “And the fourth time was after I – well, I tried too hard to Know something, and it sort of – took it out of me.”

“So the trigger is being injured, or weakened?”

“Maybe in the beginning. The last time, though… I was feeling weak, yes, but there was no specific incident that precipitated it. Basira needed me at full strength for a mission. So I Knew where I could find a statement, and I made sure to be in the right place at the right time.” He wrings his hands in his lap. “But the mission was just the way I rationalized it to myself. I was just hungry. I would’ve fed regardless, and reached for whatever excuse was closest to hand, and felt guilty later, and – well, rinse and repeat.”

“You didn’t quite answer when I asked before, but… is it an addiction, or is it sustenance?”

“It’s a… need.” Jon bites his lip in thought. “Feels like addiction sometimes, but the compulsion is worse than nicotine cravings ever were. And when I tried to stop, it – it wasn’t only withdrawal. I actually was starving. Still don’t know if it would have actually killed me, but…” He shrugs. “Suppose we’ll find out.”

“Jon –”

“But I – I need you to understand,” Jon says, jolting up straight in his seat. “I’m not making excuses. I’m done making excuses, there are no excuses, just – explanations. I was influenced, yes, and it often felt like being – enthralled, but I still… I knew that I was dangerous, that what I was doing was wrong. If I thought I couldn’t help myself, I should’ve told the others from the start and they would’ve done what was necessary. I always felt ashamed after, but I still – kept doing it, until I was forced to stop.”

He’s ranting at full-tilt now, breath quickening and heart stuttering in his throat.

“I didn’t just need it, Georgie, I wanted it. I – I liked it. It felt good. And I know for a fact that it still would, if I let myself do it again. I’ve seen the consequences of becoming – that, and I still…” His shoulders sag. “I miss it. I’m afraid I’ll never stop wanting it, I hate myself for that, and it changes nothing.”

“You’re hungry now, aren’t you?” Georgie asks gently.

Jon tsks and pinches the bridge of his nose. “That obvious, is it?”

“Mm.” She gives him a sympathetic smile. “You seem more jittery than usual. And you’re shaking.”

“Ravenous,” he says with a bitter laugh. “Worst I’ve been in – a long while, and it’s only going to get worse.”

He lets his gaze drift to the floor as he briefly debates whether to share the details. She should probably know what manner of monster she’s dealing with.

“Actually, ah – someone upstairs has a statement,” he says before he can lose his nerve. “She was writing it out just before we came down here, and I could See the shape of it, but not the whole story, and now I can’t See her anymore, and I – I need –” He runs a frustrated hand through his hair, scraping ragged fingernails against his scalp. “Christ, Georgie, it’s all I can do not to rush up there and rip it out of her.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault.”

“Not yours, either. Don’t,” Georgie says, cutting him off when he opens his mouth to launch into another tirade. “I’m not saying that you were justified in hurting people. But you didn’t choose to be… this.”

“I may not have wanted it,” he says flatly, “but I did choose it.”

“How so?”

She sounds genuinely curious, not confrontational, which keeps him from going on the defensive. Instead, the question gives Jon pause.

“I… I don’t know how to explain it,” he says slowly, frowning. “Just – something Jonah said to me, and it – feels right.”

“He said that to you?” Georgie’s eyes narrow as she watches him. “Those words?”

“Yes?” Jon squirms in his seat; sometimes, Georgie’s scrutiny is on par with that of the Beholding. “A long time ago. Before the Unknowing, even. When I realized that I was becoming something – not human, and confronted him about it.”

Georgie taps a knuckle against her lips, looking down at the floor in thought.

“Jon, I’m going to say something, and I want you to think about it – really think about it, don’t just discard it offhand. Alright?”

“Okay?” Jon says, apprehension flooding him.

Georgie takes a breath and looks him in the eye.

“Supernatural flavor aside, that’s just how abusers talk in order to groom their victims.”

Jon recoils as if struck and shoves the information away from him almost as soon as the words leave her mouth.

“Does it really matter?” It comes out far more harshly than he had intended, closer to a shout than a comment, and he cringes. “Sorry. It’s just – he had a point.”

“Jon –”

“No, I chose to keep looking for answers at every turn,” Jon says, gesticulating wildly. “I’ve never known when to just stop, no matter how many times people get hurt from it. I was a perfect fit for the Beholding, the perfect candidate for Jonah to do with what he will, and I – I still am. Doesn’t matter if I wanted this outcome. I still sought it out. Moth to a fucking flame.”

“Doesn’t mean you chose it, and it doesn’t mean you deserved what happened to you,” Georgie says. For some reason that Jon can’t quite pinpoint, the quiet confidence with which she speaks grates on his nerves. “And anyway, it seems to me you’re doing a decent job at controlling yourself now.”

“Yeah.” He huffs. “Only it took Basira threatening to kill me.”

“She what?”

“Not recently. In my future. It was warranted,” he says with a dismissive gesture. Then he sighs, slouching in his seat. “And I don’t know if even that threat would have stopped me forever. Didn’t have to find out. I managed to end the world first, and then I had all the fear I could ever want.”

The moment he stops speaking, his mind once again drifts to the statement ripe for the taking just upstairs. His bitter expression turns anguished and he buries his face in his hands.

“I want to kill the part of me that misses it. That might just kill all of me, but honestly, Georgie, I don’t – I don’t know if that would be such a bad thing –” He chokes on his words and looks up at her with wide, frantic eyes. “I – I’m sorry, I didn’t – I shouldn’t have said –” He takes a deep breath and forces assurance into his voice when he says, “I’m not suicidal.”

“I won’t be angry if you are,” Georgie says evenly, “if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m not suicidal,” he says again, but he looks away as he does, unable to meet her eyes. “I don’t – want to die. I just feel like as long as I’m around, everyone – everything is in danger, and – what right to I have to make that decision for the world? It’s – selfish, and – I really don’t deserve a second chance, especially when part of me still…”

Jon swallows hard. Once again, he wonders if the woman with the statement is still here. He pinches the skin of his arm and twists. Noticing the tic, Georgie frowns and opens her mouth to redirect him, but he carries on speaking, undeterred.

“I think the only reason I chose to wake up again is because I needed to help Daisy and Martin. I think the only reason I’m still alive now is because I don’t want to leave Martin alone. Or – no, that makes it sound out of obligation or – or guilt. It's not that. It's – I – I want to be with him, I do. I actively want to – to have a life with him, just – live, be. If not for that, though, I… I’m tired, Georgie.”

Tired of hurting and being hurt, of watching and being watched. Tired of hunger and want and an existence that hinges upon the misery of others. Tired loss and scars and nightmares. Tired of having to settle for not wanting to die instead of wanting to live. Tired of just surviving instead of actually living.

“I’m just tired,” he says, putting his head in his hands again. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to hear this.”

“I would rather you talk about it than keep it bottled up.”

“I just don’t want you to think that I’m not trying to get better.”

“Recovery isn’t linear. I’m not going to leave just because you have bad days. It would be different if you were closed off, denying you have a problem, but… you’re not.” When he doesn’t answer, her frown deepens. Her next words sound almost affronted. “I’ve been suicidal, Jon, you know that. Why do you think I’d hold it against you? I know you can’t just flip a switch to make it go away. Why are you so afraid –” Realization dawns on her face. “I left last time, didn’t I?”

“I never regained autonomy in the nightmares, so I didn’t get a chance to talk to you before I woke up.” Jon shrugs halfheartedly. “You didn’t expect me to wake up. Then I did, and I didn’t have any of the complications to be expected from a six-months coma. Not even a coma, really, just – everything but brain dead. A corpse coming back to life – I think it was too much for you. You told me I needed people to keep me human, and by the time I took that advice there was no one left to turn to, and now I wasn’t human anymore. It kept me from dying, but you didn’t think it was a second chance.”

“I said that to you?”

“The, uh, last bit,” he says reluctantly. He doesn’t blame Georgie for leaving, but he can’t deny that her parting words to him on that day still sting, even now – a resounding condemnation that he can’t quite shake. “But you weren’t wrong,” he says, rushing to reassure her when he sees the horrified look on her face. “It wasn’t a second chance, it was just… the next phase of the Archivist’s development. Anyway, you were tired of watching me self-destruct, you knew there was nothing you could to do change my trajectory, and you didn’t want me to drag you down with me. Or Melanie. Her life had – has, I suppose – been nothing but misery since the day she met me. She was trying to get out, to get better.”

“And you?”

“I wanted to, but I just… couldn’t see a way out. I couldn’t leave, but I…” He bites down hard on his lower lip, struggling with his next words. “I don’t think I was choosing to stay involved, either.”

“And I thought you were.”

“You weren’t the only one. And it wasn’t an unfair assumption. I was” – am, his brain corrects – “in too deep. I didn’t” – don’t, he reminds himself –“belong in normal life anymore. I couldn’t” – can’t, he does not say aloud – “reverse the change. Even when I found out how to quit… I couldn’t just leave Martin here alone. Also, I know now that it wouldn’t have worked for me anyway.”

“It would’ve killed you,” she guesses.

“No such luck,” he says with a short laugh, then feels his blood drain from his face. He looks up and fixes her with a panicked, apologetic look. “Sorry, I – that was in poor taste, it’s just – that was what went through my mind when I first realized it.”

“It’s alright.”

Jon clears his throat, still somewhat shamefaced.

“What I mean is that I, ah, tried to blind myself during the Ritual. Turns out I heal too quickly for it to have any effect on my connection with the Beholding. Otherwise I’d have tried it again the moment I woke up in the hospital.”

Georgie says nothing. When he chances a glimpse of her, he sees no judgment or anger, just more of that familiar, gentle sadness. He has to look away again.

“I don’t blame you for walking away back then. You didn’t have the whole picture. Neither did I, but even if I did, I probably wouldn’t have given you all the details, and you knew that. I can’t fault you for not wanting to stay involved when you didn’t know what being involved would actually entail.” He looks up and meets her eyes. “Honestly, Georgie, even if you’d stayed, I probably would have made all the same mistakes. I would have continued putting myself in danger and downplaying it. I would still have gone into the Coffin, and I wouldn’t have told you where I was going beforehand. I would likely have distanced myself from you on my own, because I’d have convinced myself it was in your best interests without asking you how you felt about it. I’ve… changed since then, but at the time, I probably would have continued retracing the same patterns. You would have only gotten hurt, even if it wasn’t my intention.”

“Maybe.” She frowns, chin propped on her fist as she considers. “I can’t speak for a version of me that doesn’t exist anymore. But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry you were alone.”

“And I’m sorry I didn’t realize how much I didn’t want to be alone until it was too late.”

“It’s not too late now, though,” she says with a cautious smile.

“No, I suppose not.” Jon’s answering smile fades as he gives her a serious look. “None of this obligates you to stick around, by the way.”

“I know.”

“I’m serious. I’m glad you’re here, but…” It’s more than I deserve, he almost says, but stops himself when he imagines Georgie’s reaction to that. “I don't want things to become – toxic, between us. If it gets to be too much, I’ll understand.”

“If it does, it won’t be just because you had a setback. Just – try not to wallow too much when you do, alright? You’re not good company for yourself when you’re like that.”

“Yeah,” Jon concedes on a long exhale.

Georgie sighs, a pensive look on her face.

“I think I may have given you the wrong impression before. When I made you promise that you didn’t have a death wish, it wasn’t because I was going to leave if you’re suicidal. It was because I don’t want to be lied to about it if you are. I don’t want to be blindsided by your self-destruction, or made complicit in it. It isn’t fair to me.”

“I don’t want that either,” he says softly. “And I – I wasn’t lying before, when I promised you that the Coffin wasn’t a death wish. I just… I thought…”

“You thought you could make the decision to live once and be done with it.”

“Sounds foolish when you put it like that, but… yes, I suppose so.”

“Would be nice if it worked like that,” Georgie says with a rueful smile. Then she sighs. “I’m not expecting you to get better overnight, and neither should you – especially when you’re still in the thick of it. I’m just expecting you to communicate when things get bad, rather than throwing yourself onto the nearest grenade as – atonement, or punishment, or some misguided belief that you have to earn the right to live. I won’t be a party to that. I can’t. I don’t… hold it against you personally, I get it, I’ve been there – but that’s why I can’t be around it. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“To be clear,” she says emphatically, waiting until he meets her eye before continuing, “I don’t mind hearing about those thoughts. I take issue with you acting on them with no regard for yourself or the people around you, and then minimizing the consequences. And that – that isn’t a value judgment. It’s just… watching you get trapped in that cycle, it takes me to a bad place.” Georgie chews on her lip for a moment, and then nods, as if coming to a conclusion. “If you were looking for a boundary, there it is. I know you can’t avoid danger entirely, but when you’re feeling like this, can you at least promise to talk to someone before making any drastic decisions? You have to let us know if you’re in a bad way, because it will affect your judgment.”

Jon lets out a long exhale. “I will.”

“Okay. I can live with that.”

“Thank you,” he murmurs, self-conscious.

“About your voice, though.” Jon gives her a quizzical look. “I thought it was wholly a supernatural thing, but…” She looks up at the ceiling, gathering her thoughts, and then adopts a delicate tone. “Have you considered that it might also be a – a trauma response?”

“I didn’t before.”

“And now?”

“I… I don’t know. It first started partway through the apocalypse. The more I experienced, the more the Archive asserted itself. I was still me, most of the time, but I was also – more, I suppose? It’s… complicated.” Jon rakes his fingers through his hair as he works on his phrasing. “The human mind was never meant to contain that… much. The Archive’s purpose is to – well, to archive. Every instance of fear and suffering in that place was a statement. Billions of them, every moment recorded live – and when I read or take a statement, I live it vicariously. My own experience of it is… an essential part of the recording process.” He blows out a puff of air. “So I had a lot going through my head at any given moment. The human in me couldn’t be conscious of all of it at the same time.”

“That’s… horrible.”

“Yes. And it felt right.” He rubs one arm absently, looking off to the side. “I don’t think I was meant to survive – the human part of me, that is. I was just one mind; I should have gotten lost in the multitude. And I did, sometimes, but… I always found my way back. Martin always called me back. If not for him…”

If not for him, Jon would have lost his sense of self in the Archive, given up and accepted the role assigned to him, much like he suspects Gertrude would have. When he lost Martin, Jon almost did lose himself as well.

“Either way, I was – above all else, I was still an Archive. I learned to compartmentalize, to an extent, but I was never meant to have my own voice. At some point, it got lost in all the noise. If I wanted to communicate, I could only use the stories hoarded away in the Archive.”

Jon frowns in consideration, actively weighing the most likely theories as he talks himself through the evidence.

“I… don’t think it was purely a psychological response,” he says slowly, gaining in confidence as he speaks the words. “I think it was a consequence of what I was in that place. The Archive was part of that world’s fabric, so to speak. But this reality operates differently than the one I came from. Its natural laws aren’t dictated by the Beholding. It has… less prominence here. Case in point, I’m significantly less powerful now than I was in my future.”

Georgie raises an eyebrow. “How powerful are we talking?”

“I was an apex predator among monsters. A direct conduit of the Ceaseless Watcher. Oh,” he adds offhandedly, “and I Knew everything.”

“What.”

“Well – almost everything. And not all at once. It was more that I – I was able to Know almost anything if I looked for the answer.” He allows himself a small grin. “Post-apocalyptic Google, so to speak.”

“Sounds… useful?”

“In some ways. It’s awful to say, but I miss it sometimes. Having control over it, mostly. I could stop myself from Knowing things about a person, give them more privacy. But I also couldn’t opt out of Knowing entirely. I just… had more control over what I Knew and when. And there were still things I couldn’t Know. The Beholding will hoard almost any scrap of information, but it has a clear preference for the horrific. It was utterly silent on anything related to an after – an afterlife, a reversal of the apocalypse, any sort of escape or release from the nightmare.”

“God,” Georgie murmurs, almost to herself.

“Jury’s out on that one, too.”

“No, I just meant –” Georgie pauses when she sees Jon smirk. “Oh, I see. You’re just being a smartass.” She shoots him a grin and nudges him with her foot. “What about now? Do you still –”

“I don’t have near as much control over it as I used to, no. I can remember the things that I consciously chose to Know then, but… that sea of knowledge, all those potential answers to any hypothetical questions – my access to it is limited now. And I’m Knowing things unintentionally again.”

“What about the Archive – the statements?”

“When I first woke up, it felt – the same as it did in the future. A sort of – wall of static that lowered whenever I tried to use my own words. It lifted in the Buried, because I was cut off from the Eye – from the Archive. I thought it would reassert itself when I came back – and it did for a minute – but now it’s…” Jon stares down at his hands, clenched tightly in his lap. “I still have recall of all the statements I already had archived. Not all at once, more like a – like a database, I suppose, but – they’re there if I look for them. The Archive is still there, and sometimes it slips through, but… it’s not as dominant as it was before. And seeing as I can speak at all, apparently state of mind is more of a factor than I thought. At least right now. Not sure about before.”

“Well,” Georgie says, “even if you have more control over it now, it doesn’t mean you always did. Sometimes circumstances change.”

“Maybe,” Jon says, his thoughts already beginning to stray.

Georgie sighs in exasperation.

“Just because there’s a future where things are better doesn’t mean you’re a failure for things being bad in the present. Jon, look at me.” He does, albeit reluctantly. “What you’ve gone through isn’t something that you just get over. It’s always going to be there. That doesn’t mean things will never get better. It just means that you need to make peace with the fact that you’ll have ups and downs. If you turn on yourself every time you’re struggling, you’ll never notice the moments of progress. And if you see every instance of progress as an opportunity to berate yourself for not achieving it sooner, then, well – I’m sorry, but things aren’t going to get better.”

“I – I know. It’s just…”

“Difficult. I know. I’ve been there.” Her expression softens. “I’m not trying to be harsh. I don’t expect one conversation to change the way you think. It takes years of practice to break that sort of pattern. But when you need reminders – and you will, and I won’t be disappointed when you do – I’m going to keep giving them to you. I’ll ask you to at least consider them each time before dismissing them outright. Does that sound fair?”

“More than,” Jon says, giving her a weak smile.

“Good, because I seem to recall you making the same request of me once upon a time.”

Did I? Jon thinks back and draws a blank. Not for the first time, he curses how unreliable his memory can be.

“Still,” he says, “I’m sorry to be such a –”

“If you say ‘burden’ or anything to that effect, I actually will be cross with you.”

“Noted,” Jon says with an embarrassed chuckle. “But – sincerely, I – I know that right now I’m –” Dead weight, he almost says. Volatile. Fragile. Tiresome. Untrustworthy. A walking doomsday button. Georgie gives him a warning look, silently urging him to consider his next words carefully. “Struggling,” he opts for. “But I do want to be there for you if you need me, in whatever way I can, so… open invitation to confide in me, or ask for help, or – or anything you need.”

“That was eloquent,” she replies with a teasing smirk. Jon rolls his eyes.

“Ironically, I think I was more eloquent when I was the Archive.”

“Eloquent in a poetic sense, maybe,” Georgie says with mock thoughtfulness, “but it didn’t lend itself to clarity.”

Another hunger pang rips through Jon's mind and he clenches his jaw, curling his shaking hands into fists.

“Hey.” Georgie prods his foot with hers again. “You ready to see Martin?”

“I, ah…” Jon gives a nervous laugh. “I want to see him more than anything, but I’m also – terrified? I know things won’t be how I remember them, I know I have to adjust my expectations, but I don’t know what to adjust them to, and I don’t know what to expect from myself, either, and…”

And the hunger is eating away at him from the inside out, an incessant undercurrent of need-want-feed running parallel with every other thought vying for his attention. He brings his hands to his face, puts pressure on his eyes, grounds himself in the ache. Almost immediately, his brain latches onto the words pressure and ground and suddenly he’s comparing the cravings to being buried alive, to drowning in noise, to being suffocated by the crush of stories that was – is – destined to comprise the entirety of his being. He’s being drawn over the threshold of that ubiquitous, baleful door in his mind: hated and feared, yes, but completing him all the same.

Guess that’s the thing about being the chosen one, Arthur Nolan’s words echo in the Archive’s halls. At the end of it, you’re always just the point of someone else’s story, everyone clamoring to say what you were, what you meant, and your thoughts on it all don’t mean nothing.

Jon tries to dislodge the statement, but there is no stop button to corral the Archive, and the story continues on: It seeds us with this… aching, impossible desire to change the world, to bring it to us.

There are hundreds of thousands of words pounding on the door now, none of them his own, an endless stream of them queuing up in his throat, cramming into his lungs – and with a painful lurch, he’s falling down, down, down –

Breathe, comes the familiar mantra.

On the one hand, he’s glad for how quickly and mindlessly that coping mechanism kicks in by now. On the other hand, he wishes he didn’t have so many opportunities to practice that it’s become so ingrained in the first place. There is something different about it this time, though. Usually, he imagines the command in his own voice, or occasionally Martin’s. Just now, he could pick out multiple tones, all overlapping: Martin. Georgie. Basira. Daisy. Himself.

The effect is potent. It allows him to walk himself back from the edge in record time. The hunger still scratches impatiently at the door, but he manages to tear his attention away from it long enough to remember where and when and who he is. When he glances back up, he realizes that only a few seconds have transpired – a storm so brief that apparently even Georgie didn’t register its passing. Instead, she’s staring over his shoulder. She catches his eye, raises her eyebrows, and nods, indicating something behind him.

“Well,” she says with a smile both amused and reassuring, “I think you’re about to find out.”

Another stab of panic shoots through him, shattering his momentary calm. Time stands still. When lightheadedness overtakes him and his vision starts to pixelate, he realizes that he’s been holding his breath. He lets out a juddering exhale, and turns around.

When he lays eyes on Martin, Jon is speechless all over again.

Martin startles when Jon’s eyes lock onto his, still unaccustomed to and unsettled by such direct eye contact. He immediately regrets that reaction when he watches Jon recoil and avert his eyes. The reflexive urge to vanish overtakes Martin then – and he feels himself begin to panic a little more when it yields no results. He had been accessing that power up until moments ago, when he dropped the veil; why is it out of reach now?

“Hi, Martin,” Georgie says, apparently unperturbed by the awkward atmosphere. “I was just keeping Jon company until you got here, but I’ll give you two some privacy now.” She stands, stretches, and brings one arm down to touch Jon’s shoulder. “I’ll be here for a while yet. If you need me, I’ll probably be in Melanie’s usual spot.”

Martin can see Jon incline his head slightly. If Jon sees her reassuring smile, he gives no indication. Georgie gives his shoulder another pat and starts to walk towards the ladder. Martin steps aside, giving her a wide berth – force of habit – and watches until the trapdoor closes behind her.

For what feels like an interminable moment, the stale air hangs heavy with silence. Martin stands rigid, mind drawing a blank. Could cut the tension in here with a bread knife, he thinks to himself, somewhat hysterically.

Jon, for his part, is staring steadfastly at the ground, utterly unmoving – and Martin’s heart wrenches painfully in his chest at the sight.

Of all the adjectives that could be used to describe Jonathan Sims, unmoving has never been one of them. When he’s not running his hands through his hair or scratching at his skin, he’s bouncing his legs, tapping his fingers, biting the insides of his cheeks, pacing, rocking in place – an endless rotation of fidgets and stims, flowing one into the next. When he’s excited, his eyes light up, intense and intelligent and impossible to break away from; he interrupts himself in his rush to translate his thoughts into speech before he loses them entirely; he’s a flurry of animated gestures and borderline manic pacing. Even at rest, his eyes are bright with questions and his hands flutter when he talks; even exhausted and lethargic, his mind is a hummingbird flitting from thought to thought with frantic abandon, eager to catalog every detail and cover every angle.

Sometimes, it’s vicariously exhausting to witness; most of the time, Martin is hopelessly endeared. In all the time that Martin has known him, the coma was the first time he ever saw Jon entirely still. Martin used to wish on occasion that he had more chances to just look at him. Up until that point, he’d had to make do with furtive glances and stolen moments when Jon was too engrossed in a task to notice Martin staring. In the hospital, Martin finally had a chance to really study him freely.

Stillness doesn’t suit him, Martin remembers thinking – and another piece of his heart chipped away.

Unconsciously, Martin finds himself studying Jon again now. He sits hunched forward with his arms folded tightly in front of him, a white-knuckled grip on each elbow, his narrow shoulders pulled in and forward. Judging from the predictably mussed state of his hair, he must have been combing his fingers through it nonstop recently. His lips are chapped and torn from chewing; the dark circles under his eyes seem to have shadows of their own. His multiple layers of clothing do nothing to hide the gauntness of his frame or the frailness of his wrists.

Jon is awake now, yes, but still he looks… distant. Listless. Too close to lifeless for comfort; too reminiscent of deathbeds and silent monitors and grey hospital linens. So Martin breaks the silence.

“Jon.”

He doesn’t raise his head, but his eyes flick upwards to gaze at Martin through his lashes. Sharp eyes, haunted eyes, more and more so with every passing day – and now, they’re downright bleak. Still, though, they’re beautiful: a rich brown, dark and deep enough to fall into, and Martin could lose himself in them gladly. Then, Jon breaks eye contact again, curling in on himself even further.

How is it that he manages to look more run down every time I see him? Martin thinks, and then he notices Jon’s hands, trembling in his lap now.

“You’re shaking.”

“Yes.” The word cracks on its way out, coming out as little more than a croak, and Jon clears his throat before trying again. “Just, ah – just hungry.”

“You’ve been back a few hours now, haven’t you eaten yet?” Martin replies automatically, the caretaker in him taking charge. “Jon, you were in there for over a week, you need to –”

“Not – not that kind of hunger.” Jon finally raises his head, but his eyes still dart away from Martin’s every few moments.

“Oh,” Martin says quietly. “Statements.”

“Yeah.” Jon scuffs one foot against the floor.

“W-well, I can wait, if you want to go record one?”

“No, I –” Jon clears his throat again, sitting up straighter in his seat. “I’d prefer to talk. If that’s alright with you. I’m – I’m sure you have questions for me.”

Martin considers. On the one hand, his instinct is to insist that Jon take care of himself first. On the other hand, he knows how stubborn Jon can be. Arguing about it wouldn’t change his mind, only waste time and ultimately leave him waiting longer for a meal.

“Yeah,” Martin says with a reluctant sigh, “I guess.”

“R-right. Well…” One end of Jon’s scarf trails in his lap, and he runs his fingertips over the weave, in the same way that one might pet a cat. “I – I’ll answer them as best I can.”

“Right,” Martin echoes.

“Would you like to sit?”

Martin nods wordlessly and takes a seat opposite Jon, but his mind goes blank again.

“Georgie said she explained things?” Jon tries tentatively.

“Sort of. She said she was working on an incomplete explanation herself.”

“Yes, that was – that was my fault. I was having some –”

“Speech difficulties, yeah. She said.”

“Which is also why my message to you was so…” Jon sighs. “I would have preferred to use my own words.”

“But did you mean it?” Martin blurts out. He feels his face heat in an instant and he has to look away.

“Yes,” Jon says quietly. Confidently, Martin notes privately, and blushes more deeply. “The sentiment was all mine. I know it may seem – out of the blue, from your perspective, but I – I meant it, all of it.” Jon ducks his head, but doesn’t look away. “I, uh – I still do.”

It’s Martin’s turn to break eye contact, keen to look anywhere other than into Jon’s eyes and the open, sincere warmth living there.

“I’m not the person you remember,” Martin says stiffly.

“Neither am I,” Jon replies, his voice softer than Martin has ever heard it.

Martin’s throat works as he swallows hard.

“I’m not the person you fell in love with.”

Jon’s expression softens and he gives Martin a beseeching look.

“I disagree,” he says, with more of his earlier assurance.

“I’m not,” Martin insists. “I don’t know what the me of the future was like, but I’m not – I’m not him. Whatever he did to make you fall for him, it’s – it’s not me.”

“Martin, I fell in love with this version of you,” Jon replies, his voice tremulous. “With every version of you.”

Martin just stares. Jon smiles at him: soft, sad, sorry, sincere.

“I – I know it’s difficult to believe. I treated you – horribly, and for so long. Took you for granted. Never gave you the respect or care you deserved. I… I don’t think I’ll ever stop being sorry for that.” He maintains eye contact, and Martin once again finds that he cannot look away. “I’ve never been… good at this sort of thing – putting words to how I feel. In retrospect, I was falling for you even before the Unknowing. I just – didn’t realize how much until I woke up and you weren’t there. There was a – an empty space where you used to be, and I couldn’t… I was almost too late. I almost lost you –”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. Martin is startled to see the sheen to his eyes.

“I… I did lose you, eventually, and it nearly…” His voice is rough with held back tears. He clears his throat, and when he speaks again, there’s an intensity to his voice that Martin just now realizes he’s missed. “But not – not until much later. Not here. Not now. Not to Peter fucking Lukas.”

Martin lets out an amused huff at the venom with which Jon says the name. Jon looks up, tilting his head slightly – and Martin can feel one corner of his mouth turning up ever so slightly at the familiar mannerism.

“Sorry,” he says. “Just – don’t hear you swear much.”

“Well, he deserves it,” Jon replies, half-scathing, half-embarrassed.

“Can’t say I disagree with you there,” Martin says with a tired chuckle.

“About – about Peter.” Once again, the name sounds poisonous on Jon’s tongue. “He’s lying to you –”

A bolt of annoyance shoots through Martin at that.

“I’m not an idiot, Jon.”

“No,” Jon says hurriedly, his hands fluttering in agitation, “I didn’t mean to imply –” He breathes a heavy sigh, flustered. “I know that I – I underestimated you for far too long. But you’re clever, and capable, and you understand people in a way that I find endlessly impressive.” To his chagrin, Martin can feel himself redden at the unexpected praise. “You’re not gullible enough to trust Peter for a moment. I know that. And” – Jon grins at him with such open affection that Martin wants to flee – “last time, you outmaneuvered him so seamlessly that I – after seeing the look on Peter’s face, I think I fell a little more in love with you, impossible as it seemed.”

Martin’s face is on fire now, must be.

“I trusted you then, wholeheartedly, and I still do,” Jon continues. “I… I’ll respect whatever decision you make going forward. Even if it means you continue working with Peter. But,” he adds, licking his lips nervously, “I have information now that we didn’t have the first time around, and I – I’d like you to know the whole story. It could have implications for whatever strategy you decide on.”

“You’re talking about the Extinction.”

“Among other things, yes.”

“Is it a real thing?”

Jon lets out a long exhale, looking off to the side with a pensive scowl. Martin can feel himself smile at the sight of that oh-so-familiar crease between his eyebrows, a telltale harbinger of a Jonathan Sims dissertation. Resting his chin in his hands and leaning forward, Martin settles in for an earful.

“Yes,” Jon says after a moment’s hesitation, “but – it’s more complicated than Peter assumes. It’s real insofar as it’s a pervasive terror for large swathes of the human population. Justifiably so, I think it’s fair to say. And it’s possible that, given existential threats like global climate change, nuclear weaponry proliferation, pandemics, war, artificial scarcity, structural oppression and inequality embedded in society worldwide…”

He counts off on his fingers, the line between his eyebrows deepening as he builds momentum.

“And of course we have a twenty-four-hour news cycle inundating us all with that reality, and – entire genres of literature and film utilizing those apocalyptic themes… well, suffice it to say, the fear of a world without us might eventually reach a point where it could be considered on par with Smirke’s Fourteen.

“But Smirke’s taxonomy is also an oversimplification. The human experience is far too varied and complex to be split into neat categories. The animal experience, rather. It’s likely that the Fears have existed since before the advent of modern Homo sapiens, and if we consider the origins of the Flesh – it would be anthropocentric to assume that only the human mind is subject to them, and” – Jon shakes his head – “I'm veering off topic. Point is, the Fears bleed into one another. It’s why a Ritual for a single power was never going to work, why Jonah – Elias’ Ritual was predicated on bringing through all Fourteen at once. Or, case in point, perhaps Fifteen. The Extinction did have a domain of its own after the change, it was just… less sprawling than the others, and there were fewer instances of it. And no Avatars dedicated to it, as far as I could tell.”

Jon taps two fingers against his lips, leg bouncing restlessly as he ponders his next words.

“As for an Emergence, though… I really don’t think there is such a thing as a grand birthing event. The Extinction is already here, in a way. Many of the statements feature more than one Fear at a time, precisely because the boundaries between them are so indistinct. Some of the statements that Adelard Dekker collected – I do think that they contain genuine examples of the Extinction as a coherent Fear of its own, just… mixed in with other Fears. I imagine the Extinction’s trajectory might be similar to that of the Flesh – arising as times change, as more and more minds collectively experience that flavor of fear.

“It might be a quick evolution – similar to how anthropogenic climate change has followed an exponential growth curve, aptly enough – but I don’t think that the Extinction is or – or will be somehow more formidable than the other Fourteen.” His speech turns rapid-fire as he bounces from one thought to the next. “It can’t exist independently of the other Fourteen any more than the others can, so a Ritual on its behalf would collapse under its own weight. If there is a grand extinction event – well, when, I suppose; nothing lasts forever, the End claims everything eventually, time continues its slow crawl towards the inevitable heat death of the universe, et cetera –”

Jon is counting off on his fingers again. Martin shakes his head fondly.

“But it won't occur because of an Extinction Ritual,” Jon goes on. “There was an apocalypse where I came from, and it had nothing to do with the Extinction. Just… a very human flavor of monstrosity: the pursuit of power and personal gain, even at the cost of unimaginable suffering for everyone else.” He gives a humorless laugh. “Fittingly enough, though, it all started from a place of fear – of mortality, of subjugation, of the unknown.” Jon’s expression falls, and his voice drops to a near whisper. “And – and my own fear led me to the eye of that storm, so to speak. All of it can be traced back to that foundational fear of the unknown, can't it? The roots just… branch outward from there.”

Jon’s already trembling hands twitch abruptly, as if snapping something in two. He doesn’t appear to notice the gesture, too lost in his own thoughts. Before Martin can voice his concern at the shift in demeanor, Jon shakes his head and forges onward. He reverts to his previous hyperfocused, almost academic manner, but an undercurrent of anxious energy lingers.

“Anyway, I actually suspect that, much like the End, the Extinction wouldn’t benefit from a Ritual even if one could work. It thrives on the potentiality of a mass extinction event, not the fulfillment of one. The Fears will cease to exist when there are no longer minds to fear them. Of course, it doesn’t have to be humans, or any creature currently living. If something does come after us, the Fears will likely survive and adapt, but otherwise –”

Jon finally makes eye contact with Martin for the first time in minutes and stops short.

“Oh,” he says, sounding mortified, “I’ve been… rambling, haven’t I.”

“I don’t mind,” Martin replies, unable to fight back a smile.

“W-well, anyway…” Jon rubs the back of his neck, looking thoroughly embarrassed. “I don’t believe that the Extinction is the world-ending threat that Peter claims, so if you were planning on continuing to work with him because of that…” He shrugs. “Also, his plan for you was never about the Extinction. Not really. He was – is – genuinely worried about the Extinction, but his plan to stop it is to have the Forsaken destroy the world first. But it hasn’t been long since his last Ritual failed; he knows it will be some time before he can try again. His immediate plan is all about one-upping Elias, taking control of the Panopticon, and accruing power in order to increase the chances of success for his next Ritual attempt.”

Jon exhales another humorless laugh, and his voice takes on an odd, breathless quality as he continues.

“Not all that different from Jonah Magnus, really. His allegiance to the Eye began when he realized that his peers would continue attempting their own Rituals. His solution was to destroy the world before they could. So afraid of his own mortality that he was willing to subjugate the entire human population for his own benefit.” Jon folds his arms again, tucking them against his middle and leaning forward, as if trying to make himself smaller. When he speaks again, there’s a noticeable waver in his voice. “Somewhere along the line, he went beyond justifying his actions – jumped right to taking pleasure in them.”

Jon’s sharp eyes go unfocused. The rise and fall of his chest quickens.

“I’m sorry,” Martin says gently. He doesn’t know what else he can say.

“For what?” Jon asks, coming back to himself after an overlong pause.

“Georgie told me what he did to you. I mean, she didn’t go into detail, but she mentioned that he possessed you and used you to –”

“It wasn’t possession,” Jon interrupts, a desperate edge to his tone. “Not in the conventional horror movie sense. It was the same compulsion that takes me when I start reading any statement, just – more intense. I couldn’t – couldn’t control my body, but he wasn’t actually in my head, it just – felt like it, like he’d crawled into my skin along with his words. Then again, I –” Jon laughs, gripping one wrist with his other hand, fingernails digging grooves into scarred skin. “I suppose I was possessed in a way, in the sense of being someone else’s possession. Have been for a long time – haven’t belonged to myself since the moment he chose me, still don’t –”

Jon’s gaze goes distant yet again, and Martin watches with burgeoning worry as his pupils dilate and constrict with the fluctuation of his voice.

“…he posited a future where – humanity was violently and utterly supplanted –”

“– marked me as a part of that, without my understanding. Or consent –”

“Jon?” Martin says, apprehensive.

“– keep me in the dark just so I wouldn’t stop being useful – made me complicit in a thousand different nightmares, and lives ruined for the sick joy of some otherworldly voyeur –”

“– any future I might have had, sacrificed to his –”

“Jon, what’s –?”

There’s a singsong tenor to his voice and an intensity to his eyes now, reminiscent of the look he gets when he records –

Oh, Martin realizes. Statements.

“– I swear I could still feel those – eyes follow me – a grin of victory playing upon his lips –”

“Jon,�� Martin says again, more insistently, reaching out on impulse to place a hand on Jon’s knee.

Cognizance flares to life in Jon’s eyes and his hands fly up to cover his mouth. He seems to struggle with himself for a minute, stolen words muffled beneath the hands pressed tight to his lips. He makes a noise that sounds almost like choking, or sobbing; he looks at Martin with wide, watery eyes, then takes a deep breath in. A quiet whimper chases the air out on his exhale, and Martin’s own breath catches in his throat. He’s seen Jon scared, but he’s never heard him make a sound quite like that – not while bleeding out from a fresh stab wound, not with a gash in his neck, not fumbling to apply ointment to a burned and peeling hand, not even with worms burrowing through his flesh and a corkscrew tearing through the tunnels they left behind.

“You’re okay,” Martin says, willing it to be true.

“I don’t – I don’t want to talk about him anymore,” Jon says abruptly, sharply. He winces and shoots Martin an apologetic look. “Sorry, that was – I didn’t mean to sound cross, I just –” He flaps his hands, lips moving wordlessly.

“It’s okay, I understand.”

Jon nods, but his breaths are still coming fast and shallow. One hand seeks out Martin’s, still resting on his knee; he grips it tight, fingers slotting between Martin’s like they belong there. The direct skin-to-skin contact sends pins and needles radiating up Martin’s arm, but he fights the impulse to draw back.

“We can talk about something else,” Martin says, forcing calm into his voice.

Jon inclines his head again, gulping down air. Even as his breathing begins to even out, the shivers coursing through him only grow more violent, the tremor in his hands becoming more and more pronounced.

“You need to eat something,” Martin says.

“N-no, I –”

“Yes, you do –”

“No!” The exclamation cracks like a whip and ricochets off the walls, echoing down the tunnel. Jon’s face crumples and he shrinks in on himself again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to shout, I –”

“It’s fine –”

“It’s not.”

“We can argue about it when you’re not literally starving. I’ll go fetch a statement, and –”

“It won’t help.”

“What do you mean?”

Jon brings his free hand to his mouth and bites down on his knuckles.

“Jon?” Martin says again, more sternly. “What did you mean?”

“I’m – not just the Archivist, Martin, I’m the Archive. All of the statements stored upstairs, I already have them, every single one of them catalogued in my head, and – re-experiencing them takes the edge off while I’m reading, but as soon as the recording stops, the hunger comes back even stronger, and I want…” Jon gives him a pained look. “Did Georgie tell you about…?”

“She mentioned something about you putting yourself under house arrest because you’re afraid of hurting people.”

“It’s necessary,” Jon says, almost defensively.

“What will happen if you don’t take in new statements?” Jon says nothing, and Martin sighs. “Jon.”

“I don’t know.”

“Will you starve?”

“I don’t know.”

“Please don’t lie to me.”

“I don’t know,” Jon says, pulling his hand away from Martin’s and rubbing his eyes furiously. “It feels like starving, but I don’t know if it will actually kill me. But I don’t want to hurt people just to keep myself from hurting. I don’t want to be like –” He cuts himself off with a sharp intake of breath. “I’ve caused untold suffering as it is. I don’t want to hurt anyone else.”

“There was a woman giving a statement upstairs earlier –”

“I’m not taking her statement.” Jon’s reply is automatic, almost like a practiced line. It sounds as if he’s trying to convince himself more than Martin.

“I wasn’t suggesting –”

“Her name is Tricia Mallory,” Jon interjects. “It’s her birthday next week; she’ll be twenty-eight. She has two cats, and a parakeet, and a girlfriend named Shona, who has an engagement ring hidden in the bottom left drawer of her desk –”

“Why are you –”

“Because I’m so far removed from humanity at this point that I need to actively, continuously persuade myself not to see other people as cuts of meat.” Martin would have preferred snappish to the resigned, matter-of-fact, tired tone in which Jon gives that confession. “Her name is Tricia Mallory,” he recites again, in that same rehearsed manner. “She lost her voice in a minotaur’s labyrinth. She’s finding it again, slowly, but it will never be the same. Her nightmares are horrific enough without adding another monster to the mix. I’m not taking her statement.”

“What about just reading her written statement?” Martin asks. Jon blinks, slow and catlike, and Martin can see the uncanny glint of hunger in his eyes. “Have you already heard her story?”

“No,” Jon says after a sluggish pause. “I don’t think her statement ever made it down to the Archives the last time. And the knowledge of its content didn’t consciously come to me after the change. There were – so many other statements in progress by then. So much to See.”

“So it would be something new for you.” Jon is silent, staring off into the middle distance, unblinking, glassy eyes riveted on something only he can see. “Would that be enough to hold you over for now? It – it won’t be live and in person, but at least it won’t be… I don’t know, stale?”

“I…” Jon’s pupils dilate. Constrict. Dilate.

“She’s probably left by now,” Martin continues insistently. “I can go track down the statement and bring it back here.” Jon looks as if he’s warring with himself. “Please, Jon. It’s just a reading. You won’t hurt anyone.”

Blood wells up on Jon’s lip where he’s been biting it. Eventually, he gives a tiny nod, his shoulders going limp as if in defeat. Jon needs to eat, but Martin wishes it didn’t feel so much like pressuring someone to break sobriety.

“Okay,” Martin says, fighting back the surge of guilt, “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Please don’t go anywhere, alright?”

“Alright,” Jon replies in a nearly inaudible whisper.

Martin tosses a glance over his shoulder as he leaves. Jon is eerily still again but for the persistent shaking. He looks small, and haunted, and lost; fragile, precarious, with a posture that brings to mind something broken and taped back together in slapdash fashion.

First things first, Martin tells himself, and tries to focus on the task at hand.

Once the trapdoor closes behind Martin, Jon buries his face in his hands.

That wasn’t how he wanted this conversation to go. Just judging from his demeanor, Martin has shaken off the Lonely more than Jon had expected, but still, Jon should be the one comforting him. It took the Martin of the future ages to acclimate to the idea that he deserved to be cared for, too; to unlearn the reflex to reverse any attempt Jon made to take care of him for once. Right now, Martin needs to be shown that care, and yet Jon can’t manage to redirect his one-track mind away from his hunger for more than five minutes at a time. Selfish, selfish, selfish –

The slow creak of a door cuts through the silence, and Jon’s blood runs cold when Helen’s playful lilt rings out behind him.

“Archivist,” she says with unrestrained glee. “Long time no see.”

Jon had been dreading the Distortion’s inevitable reappearance. He should have known that she would make her entrance when he’s at his most vulnerable. Like a shark to blood, he thinks to himself, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

“Brooding, are we?”

“Hi, Helen,” he manages, struggling to stay impassive.

It doesn’t matter; he jumps anyway, when several long fingers – too many angles; too many joints – curl around his shoulder. As if her touch was an unpaid toll, she removes her hand once he provides payment in the form of that momentary burst of alarm. Her headache-inducing laugh is made all the worse by the acoustics of the tunnel.

“Now, then” – Jon doesn’t look around at her, but he can practically hear her lips curl in a grin – “pleasantries aside, I believe we’re due for a chat.”

End Notes:

Citations for Jon’s Archive-speak: MAG 010; 134/111; 154/144; 098. And Arthur Nolan’s statement is from MAG 145.

I’m hoping Jon’s ramble wasn’t Too Much lmao,,, it is admittedly part self-indulgence (read: shameless projection) on my part, but also: ADHD is just Like That sometimes. I’m still navigating how to strike a balance between having something like that flow well and be, well, readable from an audience perspective, while also trying to capture the reality of how an ADHD ramble often does lack coherence from an external POV, because so much of the associative reasoning never gets verbalized (Thought Train Goes Brrr from Point A to Point Q and Does Not Show Its Work). All this is to say: I know that whole section is meta-heavy NOW THAT’S WHAT I CALL TANGENTS. I don’t know if I achieved what I was aiming for, but it was fun practice. Hopefully the end result wasn’t too disjointed or too much of a slog. (I actually edited a lot out, believe it or not, lol.)

Also, in Jon's defense, he Really Needs A Snickers. And he hasn't been able to SPEAK FOR HIMSELF for months. He deserves a little infodumping, as a treat.

Thanks for sticking with me through the slower update schedule. We're back to full shifts at work now, so chapters are taking me longer to write. And apparently I've just decided all the chapters are gonna be 10k+ words now, whoops.

#tma #the magnus archives #tma fic

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