#but for now this is just a brain dump of some things ive been thinking of when i think about his story

[vorestarr]

thoughts on vampirism as a symbol of trauma

i've been thinking about this in relation to Astarion's story arc for a while and started writing this post a couple times, only to have it become much longer than expected, so for now this post is just going to be about the different paths of ascension vs spawn from the end of his personal quest. (i think there are multiple ways to read his story, and this is just the way i've been reading and thinking about it.)

the basic idea of this post is that Astarion's vampirism is a physical manifestation or symbol of his trauma, and therefore the two different ending paths for him are distinguished by how he addresses his vampirism (and therefore trauma).

it's pretty clear that the vampirism itself is a traumatic experience for Astarion, from how he describes almost dying, then actually dying, and then everything that comes afterwards at Cazador's hands. but i think of this a step further, in that the actual symptoms of vampirism are also part of this. there's an idea that there are physical manifestations of traumatic experiences held in the body, even if the trauma itself was psychological in nature (i.e., the body keeps the score). this is how i read vampirism for Astarion, specifically.

to start, he's turned into a vampire after a traumatic experience (almost being killed by a group of people one night). he's "saved" from this by Cazador turning him into a vampire, but still his body literally dies when he turns into a vampire, which is another separate traumatic event where he feels himself die and then has to climb out of his own grave. (also noted, i believe it's hinted that Cazador orchestrated the attack on Astarion that almost killed him in the first place, so Cazador is the cause of all of this trauma in one event that is Astarion becoming a vampire.)

his body is physically changed by the experience. he loses things because of it, maybe things that were not particularly important to him but now seem incredibly important once they're gone (like walking in the sun) or things that were previously important to him and now he can no longer enjoy (living indulgences and pleasures like food, or his own reflection). also critically, he cannot get those things back. his life is changed (literally ended) and there's no fixing it.

he learns coping strategies during the subsequent 200 years, which i will not get into in this post, but suffice to say that he learned things that he believed would protect him in the moment.

after the tadpole when he experiences freedom from Cazador's influence for the first time, there are some critical shifts that happen to start him on a path to address these things, or not. the recent interview where the devs mention that the ascended path is one of fear, i really agreed with and have said similar things in previous posts, because to me, i think the main difference between how Astarion acts in those paths is that for ascension, he relies on the methods he learned in those 200 years to survive in the moment, while in the spawn path, he learns new ways to cope.

to elaborate on that, i think the ascension path specifically is about avoidance.

in trauma, avoidance is what it sounds like: avoiding any triggers or negative emotions related to the traumatic experience. the avoidance can manifest in different ways, but a key idea is that by avoiding those negative feelings, they are never actually addressed.

i think there are two big ways this manifests in Astarion's story, related to vampirism:

ascended Astarion is avoiding those negative feelings of fear of Cazador (or someone else doing what Cazador did) by focusing on seizing power and control. if he's more powerful, in control of a situation, then nothing bad can happen to him again. the way this ties back to vampirism as a symbol of trauma is that this is literally described to us in the game as the natural course of life for vampires: they live in fear of other vampires, fear of their own spawn seizing their power, etc. this is the story of Vellioth and Cazador, and then later Cazador and Astarion (regardless of the choice he makes to ascend or not). we even get a list of vampires where ALL their life spans/eras of power are timed so that we can infer that each subsequent vampire has killed the previous vampire to dethrone them. so, vampirism itself is trauma and the known course of vampirism is this same cycle we see repeated with multiple vampires and histories in game. by taking a different path and not becoming a full vampire, spawn Astarion has started to learn a new way of dealing with his vampirism/trauma, rather than avoiding it.

the OTHER major way i see this manifest in the game is how ascension and spawn paths deal with the literal symptoms of vampirism: walking in the sun, Astarion's reflection, food versus drinking blood, the vampiric state of undeath, etc. these are all things that changed about Astarion when he became a vampire, and things that (in the normal course of events) cannot be changed back. he died, he's dead, there's no curing his vampirism. in other words, there's no going back to who he was before the traumatic experiences. that by itself is a neutral statement, the same way that there's no going back to who a person is before any major event (be it meeting someone important, choosing to take a certain job, etc etc), because we are all constantly changing and growing. HOWEVER, i think the places with Astarion where this stops being neutral is how he addresses that fact: with acceptance or avoidance.

to elaborate on the second point, which is my main reason for making this post:

on the spawn path, Astarion learns new ways to be and to live with his vampirism. in his epilogue, he can mention that he's not bothered by losing the sun again, he can describe finding a sense of belonging with others who share his vampirism, and he can define himself in new ways that he's picked for himself rather than stay in the definition of vampire that Cazador held.

in the ascension path, Astarion avoids all of those difficult realizations and choices. he falls back on the same strategies that helped him survive in the moment for those 200 years, but which can and do hurt him after escaping that environment. he's working hard to keep from addressing those negative feelings -- and on the surface, this works! he can walk in the sun without the tadpole! he has new vampire powers and he can do all the things he lost when he died! he can see his own reflection again! but, he's still a vampire, still has his fangs, still has his red eyes.

this is why i think the route is characterized by fear and why i found that interview with the devs interesting: by focusing on all those avoidance behaviors, Astarion ends up being stuck in a state of mind that's all about fear because it's all about avoiding that feeling. he feels great in the moment because he has been able to claim back some of what was taken from him, but this is not a solution because he's still a vampire.

personally, i do not read the ascension path as continuing a cycle of abuse, but as the continuation of avoiding the painful process of healing from trauma.

ascended Astarion is elated after killing Cazador because he feels the power flowing through him and it makes him feel safe in the moment, and because he is avoiding addressing any lingering feelings of pain or negativity, including avoiding addressing that he just killed 7000 people.

spawn Astarion meanwhile looks absolutely miserable immediately after killing Cazador when he cries and breaks down, and then he feels numb later because he's so overwhelmed. this i think resembles something that can happen in trauma therapy, where a person feels worse when they initially start addressing and working through their trauma, because it means actually feeling all of those negative emotions they've been avoiding.

in the end, ascended Astarion has not changed how he addresses his trauma or vampirism, and the ascension has actually given him more tools to continue avoidance. spawn Astarion meanwhile is exploring other ways of living with his vampirism, and can be experiencing success with that by the time the epilogue rolls around (even if there are some bumps and regressions along the way, like losing his ability to walk in the sun again).

because this is my main reading, i also don't think this makes ascended Astarion evil or irredeemable -- i think he shows that he does still have all the emotions that he's displayed through the game and therefore he still has the potential to follow the same path that spawn Astarion did in healing. but, the critical thing with the ascension path is that he does not have the clear motivation or triggering event to start him down that path. he's further away from that, and it will take more work to get there. everything he did after all comes back to the ways he learned to survive under Cazador, so those behaviors helped him at one point. the issue is that he's past the point of those things helping him, but he can't let them go.

tl;dr: i like looking at vampirism itself as a physical symbol of trauma and as a way to read Astarion's potential storylines, because it provides a context for me to view how the ascension and spawn paths treat his vampiric symptoms -- avoiding them in the ascension path by giving him an "out" of sorts to avoid addressing how those symptoms impact his life because of the extra abilities granted to him by the ritual, versus being forced to grapple with them and figure out a way to life with them and even enjoy them on his own terms in the spawn ending.

if you read this whole post, thanks for sticking with me and feel free to share your thoughts too. :)

#astarion #meta #astarion ancunin #i have a whole other post related to this about some specific in game events so i will link it here when im done writing that... #but for now this is just a brain dump of some things ive been thinking of when i think about his story #i really love ascended astarion tbh and i find his path really cathartic and validating when it comes to trauma responses #but i also love and appreciate the way that the game shows how spawn astarion hurts and has to hurt in order to heal #idk i just really enjoy his character and both paths and i haven't been viewing them as 'good' or 'bad' paths/endings #and just wanted to share my thoughts and framing for how i approach him :)

[envyadams-vs-me]

IVE BEEN HELLA INSPIRED BY BROOKLYN 99 SO GET READY FOR THIS:

Steve proposes to Eddie during on of the gangs' game nights. The kids have been tortured by this specific campaign the last few weeks because Steve finally agreed to play. The learning process had been a bot slow at first but by now Steve was getting the hang of it.

The whole gang is packed into Steve and Eddie's small apartment, it's on of the rare nights none of them have to work or go to class, and Eddie is more extravagant than normal. He's feeding off of the frustrated groans and chaotic yelling that fills the living room and chuckles when Steve joins in.

The games been going on for hours with minimal breaks due to the hyper focusing by the crew. A few of the girls have fallen asleep, Nancy on Robin's lap and El on her left shoulder, unbothered and actually comforted by the noise. Robin has had to pee for the last hour but refuses to get up until Nancy stirs enough to tell her it's okay.

As soon as she leaves the room, Eddie decides now is the time to drop the worst thing he can think of to block the kids (plus Steve) from winning the battle they're currently in the midst of.

Eddie admits he made the character based on himself, and the kids joke that Steve should try and flirt with the monster then. Eddie responds with a rambunctious cackle and throws his body back into the bean bag chair he's claimed as his throne.

While the kids try and come up with a plan, Steve suddenly pipes up. "Don't worry guys, I got this."

The look of determination that falls on his face is enough to make Eddie's heart swell. He chooses to mask his adoration and play into his sadistic DM nature.

"is that so, Steven?" Eddie leans closer to the group and grins evilly. Steve doesn't look the least but scared, instead he just sits up straight and smirks at Eddie.

"Yes it is, Edward."

There's a glint of mischief in each of their eyes and Eddie feels his heart racing with anticipation of Steve's next move. With a well practiced hair flip, Steve's repositioning himself to kneel beside the coffee table and reaches into his back pocket.

Eddie expects him to playfully throw some kind of magic at him, he leans back and waves his boyfriend off. "Aw, you got nothin', Harrington. Nothing!"

The group around the table are sharing confused looks, and Erica's the one to break the tense moment with a shout of, "Hurry up already!"

Steve glances at her briefly then continues to pull a small box from his back pocket. Eddie's too distracted on his impending victory to fully comprehend the words coming out of Steve's mouth.

It's when the living room erupts in a collective scream of disbelief that Eddie's brain registers his words. Suddenly he's back on his knees, knocking over his book and the party's game pieces, as he lets out a strangled, "What did you just say!?"

Steve's face is red with both anger and embarrassment as he tells the kids to, "Shut the hell up!" And he focuses back on Eddie.

"I said, Eddie Munson...will you marry me?"

Steve's less confident asking a second time and his shaking hands do nothing to calm his nerves. The room is quiet as Eddie stares wide-eyed at the black and gold ring that's sitting in the box Steve's holding. He tries to stutter out a response, then his heart stops.

"Is this because of the game!?" Eddie screeches out trying not to pull out his hair. His voice only gets louder when he shouts out, "I swear if this is because of the game Steve Harrington, I will dump you so hard!"

His worriedly biting his nails as he tries to glare at Steve and ignore the beating of his heart increasing because of the previous question.

Steve smiles easily, as Eddie thinks he's the biggest jerk for finding humor in his panic, and shakes his head. "God, Eds. No this isn't because of the game. I want to marry you, for reals."

Eddie lets out a choked breath as Steve leads him to stand up. Eddie attempts to hide his smile, as he squeaks out, "Really?"

Steve laughs and holds his face in his hands, "Really, Eddie. Will you marry me?"

Eddie isn't embarrassed when he screams, "Yes!" Over and over and over, as the whole room (previously on the edge of their seats) erupts in victorious cheers. Some of the kids (Erica, Dustin, and Mike) pretend to gag as their friends kiss, happily engaged.

Robin stumbles out of the bathroom, holding the plunger as a weapon, "What going on!?"

She's terrified for a second before she spots the new ring on Eddie's finger and the brightest smile on Steve's face.

"Oh my god!" She rushes over to the couple and grabs Steve's shirt collar.

"Did you?"

Steve nods and she grabs Eddie next.

"And did you say?"

Eddie nods as well and Robin squeals with excitement as she hugs the pair, everyone else soon joining.

Needless to say, the game was forgetting that night, but quickly picked up again the next weekend.

#brought to you by peraltiago and my constant watching of b99 #i couldnt let this thought go #steve would definitely be like jake and try to 'trick' eddie #and eddie would definitely be a cocky lil shot and think he knows steves every move #anyways enjoy this #steddie stranger things #steddie st #steddie thoughts #steddie drabble #steddie ficlet #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #the party stranger things #steve and eddie munson #steve and eddie #steve harrington and eddie munson #steve harrington and eddie #stranger gays

[bcofl0ve]

I'm new here so sorry if you've talked about it before, but what's the tea between Austin and Olivia deJonge? a while ago I heard someone say that they had something during the filming of Elvis but that they are no longer close and don't follow each other on Instagram. they also said that Austin was unfaithful to Vanessa with her, but tbh I don't give these rumors about celebrities cheating much credibility unless they are 100% confirmed 😅 thanks!!

oh, my sweet summer child…*pats your head*. this has become a veryyy contentious topic on my blog so i don’t talk about it much anymore but since you’re a new fan looking for info, as was i once, i will do one Final brain dump about it.

he still follows her and her finstas that i don’t think she uses anymore lol, but yes olivia unfollowed him in september. something that is funny (at least to me) within the context that said unfollow was when she went out with sophie turner and taylor swift. like…what did blondie say that pushed you ever the edge girl LOL. then little miss instagram anxiety unfollowed 100 random accounts the next day trying to pretend it wasn’t selective.

this is also a little contentious because there isn’t proof proof in the form of like kissing photos or something (just beach pap photos from nov 2020 where they aren’t touching each other haha). but in my humble opinion they were involved during filming.

timeline gets a little messy at the start, but i do think re: some late december early january gossip about him being seen with olivia that austin and v were broken up a hot minute before it came out publicly on jan 14th 2020 so 🤷🏼‍♀️. don’t think it was some big affair. they were def broken up before jan 2nd, a day that will leave in infamy lmfao. olivia posted a photo in austin’s shirt, which v fans clocked immediately bc he’d wore in it on vacation with v. and this was jan 2nd, two weeks before the breakup went public. i wasn’t in the fandom for this, but as ive been told it was a real mess. olivia went private briefly, deleted the pics, asked the society fans to take the photos down and it was the beginning of instagram becoming the seemingly anxiety inducing thing for that that it is now.

(ex: after the oscars last year she posted some elvis filming throwbacks on her story as a nice little end of the era thing. one of her and austin she wrote ‘so proud 🥀 @austinbutler’ on. she then deleted that story, reposted it, deleted it again, and reposted it without the text.)

and i mean yeah- big (probably intentional) goof on her part with the shirt thing. but idk. she was 21 at the time, and i’m willing to give 21 year olds a little girl what are you doing grace.

whatever happened between her and austin, the most she’s done re ‘shade’ is liking a comment someone left on her page saying she deserved better when he was seen with lily rose and something got sent to deuxmoi that said he’d cheated on her (imo he didn’t. she was just hurt bc seeing him move on stung, or maybe the door that should have been fully shut wasn’t. lily was august 2021, he left australia march 2021)- and hanging out with v a handful of times mid 2022 (though she herself never posted about it, it was either other people or paps).

a lot of people on here reallyyyy don’t like her, but i’m a fan so that’s my girl. i have a real big soft spot for her, and a while ago when a friend of mine in the fandom at the time told me ‘oh the internet wasn’t nice to her at all’ in the months after the shirt debacle it really hurt my heart.

even with a little smidgeee of shade as explained above ^ i think she’s handled whatever maybe not so positive feelings she has towards him reasonably. they seemed to get a long just fine and happy during elvis press- esp so in toronto which my fav interviews of the two of them are from bc that press tour stop was just them and baz. she’s never said a negative world about him publicly, and i doubt she ever will. the most candid she’s ever been about elvis filming was an interview earlier this year where she said she did ‘a lot of growing up on that job’ and that she sees her life as before and after elvis. i think that’s the most “deep” she’ll ever go down that road, at least for a long while.

between her unfollowing him in sept, turning off her tagged photos in feburary. and recently deleting a comment v left on a post of hers within 30 seconds (i presume bc she knew just like we did that v was doing that for drama/attention, it was right after austin’s esquire interview where he briefly, respectfully talked about her), i think she’s genuinely trying to move on with her life. which can be hard! i never get over anyone! and if my personal read is right that she was a mix between a rebound and the priscilla to his elvis when he was really living in that man’s head that’s even more of an idk…niche heartbreak to have to wrestle with? whether the other party actually did anything wrong or not. i don’t think austin did anything to her or broke her heart with any malicious intent at all. none of the olivia/austin stuff changes how i see him as a fan. he’s a complex human, olivia is a complex human. that’s the gist.

#sorry for the essay LOL #lots of thoughts #lots of lore

[guttersnarls]

We asked Tobias Forge how much he uses social media and he gave us a mini-lesson in how brains work

By Joe Daly ( Metal Hammer ) 6/22/22 Ghost mastermind Tobias Forge is no fan of social media - and he gave us a very scientific explanation as to why

Earlier this year, we met with Ghost mastermind Tobias Forge (aka Papa Emeritus I-IV and Cardinal Copia) for a long, freewheeling discussion on their latest album, Impera — recently certified gold in their native Sweden — their forthcoming tours and sundry other topics. One issue we raised with Forge that wasn't printed in the original feature, however, was the increasing saturation of social media and whether it should or even could be avoided. For the first time, here are this thoughts - and unsurprisingly, the visionary Swede had some thought-provoking ideas on the topic.

“I don’t go on social media unless there’s something that someone is pointing at,” he said. ‘Look at this thing!’ ‘Oh, crazy....’ I’d say that over half the time, it’s my wife showing me some artist who’s done something cool. It’s very little. I don’t get my updates from social media. I had a feeling fifteen years ago, around the time that Facebook arrived. I said, ‘That is not good.’ Of course, I didn’t foresee all of the ways that it would destroy mankind and politically or all of those other things that it was going to be used for.”

The problem, he explained, is that we — homo sapiens — are simply not wired to process the limitless number of relationships thrust upon us in social media platforms. “I read a long time ago that our mind — our psyche — has a limited amount of space,” he said. “You mind’s RAM, basically. There’s a limited amount of megabytes in your head and from what I read, you have space for roughly three thousand people in your head and you can have eight relationships. So there are eight chairs around your table and you’re sitting at the head. Four and four. And you have three thousand people in your gallery."

"That worked perfectly fine in the old days because three thousand people was just about how many were in your village and eight people were probably your family; whereas now, the fucking Kardashians take up space in my head! Why? I don’t give a fuck about them! Why do I know...I can’t really tell who’s who, but why do I fucking know this?”

Science backs this theory, although numbers vary according to the study. One popular model is known as the “Dunbar Number.” British anthropologist Robin Dunbar analysed historical, anthropological and contemporary psychological data across different cultures and time periods and determined that an average person tends to have 15 good friends, 50 friends, 150 “meaningful contacts,” 500 acquaintances and 1500 people that they can recognise.

Forge shakes his head and chuckles at some of his friends who have used social media to reignite relationships with old flames. “I’ve been in my relationship for fifteen years so I missed out on Tinder and all that,” he says. “But I always found that since Facebook arrived, friends of mine who were single would be like, ‘I met this girl and she’s really cool!’ Then two days later I ask how it’s going and they’re like, ‘Yeah, um, fuck man, I went on her Facebook and I saw that she just got dumped...’

"I was like, ‘Wait, what?’ Imagine going to a bar and sitting there for however long it takes for you to sort of come to the point where ‘I’d like to do you,’ or ‘I’d like to meet you,’ or whatever. Imagine that before Facebook and saying, ‘Look, you seem great. I would love to hang out with you. How about you give me your diary and a photo album and I’ll have a think about it. Cool?’ Then you go home and you’re like, ‘Oh, she went to Turkey. And look at this here! And that’s her old boyfriend!’ It’s crazy. People laugh about it now because we’ve worked out a few of those kinks and you have to take things with a pinch of salt but how many people, who have had no chance to prove themselves, been measured by old pictures from five years ago when they had whatever kind of haircut or before they had a gym card or whatever? It’s not healthy. It’s not good.”

#the band ghost #tobias forge #interview #this is a TRIP #and if you were wondering if TF was creeping on your Tumblr #the answer is NO #hes got no room for you #😆 #the man does have a point tho #and yet here we are

[agonyaster]

brain said ‘what if they just talked’ and i ran with it

kind of a brain dump but lots of fun anyway! tried to fit as many refs to art ive seen, especially @pigdemonart’s submas and nimbasa trio stuff <3 bonus points if you can spot all of the refs and double bonus points if you go look at their art rn

blankshippers dni, please. you will be blocked.

…

Emmet stifled a yawn and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, nearly stumbling over Galvantula as she skittered around his legs excitedly. He crosses into the living room and Archeops tumbles off of the couch at the sight of him, his claws scraping against the floor as he trailed after Emmet as well. Emmet is grateful they live on the first floor; surely no downstairs neighbors would tolerate routine disturbances this early in the morning. 

While he contemplates how to stop Archeops from destroying their floors every morning, Emmet enters the kitchen where to his surprise, Ingo was stood at the counter. Chandelure floated idly nearby, chittering and hissing at her trainer, who was nodding along like he could understand her. 

“Hello, brother. It is early.” Emmet nods to the window for emphasis, where the sun was just starting to peek above the horizon.

“It is indeed,” Ingo agrees. “Did you sleep well?”

Emmet hums in affirmation, opening a cabinet as he sticks his nose high in the air.

“Liligant tea?” he guesses, grabbing a battery and tossing it to Galvantula, which she catches in her mouth before scuttling away.

Ingo nods and Emmet puts the brakes on full-stop to sit and watch. Ingo grabs the tag dangling over the side of the cup in front of him and bobs the teabag up and down before whisking it away. His other hand reaches for a jar on the counter and spoons honey into it.

“You take your tea with honey?” Emmet asks, breaking his self-imposed silence as he stares at the jar. “That is new.”

Ingo twists the lid back on and nods. “Yes. It… it was how Lady Calaba always prepared tea. I find myself quite attached to the flavor now.”

“It is good to see you’ve acquired some taste while you were away.”

His brother chuckles and they fall into comfortable silence as Emmet prepares coffee for himself. 

In the domestic air of their kitchen, Emmet is grateful for how quickly they got back on track. Balance is a verrry difficult thing to find on its own and Emmet cannot imagine what it would be like to try and discover a new balance with Ingo. They never had to think about it before— when they existed as a two-car train, moving in tandem no matter what came their way. 

He was worried about that in the early days of Ingo’s return. Three years was too long to be apart from someone you’d spent your whole life standing beside. He knows things have changed and he knows it is ignorant to believe otherwise, but despite that, they were in sync once more. Not perfectly, no, but moving forward nonetheless. Together all the same.

Emmet finishes adding the sugar to his coffee and clears his throat. “Calaba… she is the leader of the Pearl Clan, correct?”

“Close, but no.” Ingo shakes his head. “Lady Irida was the clan leader, while Lady Calaba was a warden; the same as I.” 

“Ah. I see.” Emmet pauses. They hadn’t talked about this yet. For all of the time they had together since Ingo’s return, it had been spent settling back into normal. Getting their lives back on track. The only past they ever talked of was the one held within the photo albums Elesa brought over, not the one within a Sinnohan history textbook.

Emmet knew a few names and the general story of Ingo’s arrival and departure, but the in between was where things started to blur.

Hisui had changed his brother in many ways, far beyond the honey in his tea. It was the reason he woke before the sun had risen every morning; the reason he looked so lost when he stared up at the stars, hidden as they were by the light of Nimbasa City. Its horrors left pronounced dark circles under his eyes which didn't leave for weeks since his return, and had etched lines into Ingo’s face that shouldn’t have come for another five years, at least.

Hisui was the reason for the notebook Ingo kept tucked within the inside breast pocket of his coat, filled with photos, neat drawings and lines of writing— of the things he’s scared to forget again. The letters to and from the professors assistant who disappeared for months and came back alongside Ingo, the wooden pokéballs Emmet found scattered around the apartment, the trips out to Pinwheel Forest or Twist Mountain, the scars that were peppered across his hands and up and down his arms— all were because of Hisui. Even the haunting flute music Emmet heard echoing off of the walls when he woke in the middle of the night. It was just another way Hisui left its mark. 

Perhaps it was finally time to learn more. To figure out the how and the why. 

“What was it like, your life in Hisui?”

Ingo pauses at the words, frown deepening ever so slightly as the cup of tea stops halfway to his mouth. 

“That is a complicated question.”

“We do not have any scheduled stops today."

Ingo pauses. He is tempted to deflect, Emmet knows. Emmet will not let him. He stares, and Ingo relents. 

“Then I suggest we get comfortable.”

“All aboard!” Emmet cheers, and they head into the living room. 

Archeops rises into the air sloppily and perches on the back of the couch as his trainers sit down, tail thumping against the wall happily as Ingo scratches under his chin. Emmet sets his mug down atop a sleeping Crustle, and the Joltik resting on her carapace scatter like a flashbang had erupted. Some dart under the couch, others flee to the kitchen in search of Galvantula, or head towards the TV stand where they are bound to chew on the wires.

Emmet looks at his brother, and again is reminded of the impact Hisui left. The faint lines around Ingo’s eyes deepen in the low light; his shoulders tense and hunched, unable to shake the habit even after his arrival in Unova. 

“What was Irida like? You have mentioned her often.”

Ingo snaps to attention and processes his brother's words before pressing his lips together into a thin line. “Lady Irida was strong,” are the words he decides on. “Too strong someone her age needed to be. Without that strength, I doubt I would still be here to tell you about her.”

“Oh.”

“She battled her own father in an attempt to keep me within the clan, despite being an outsider with no memories. I’m still not quite sure why she trusted me so much, but I am forever in her debt for it.”

“She sounds like a lovely lady.”

“She is. Was.” Ingo slumps even further in on himself. “They all were.”

Emmet picks up Ingo’s tea and takes a sip before handing it off and washing the taste from his mouth with a swig of coffee. “You said you were a warden. What is a warden?” 

“A warden is someone who tends to a noble of the clan. They try to keep the peace within the noble’s habitat, tend to their children, evolve the next noble when the time comes— things of that sort.” Ingo stares down into his tea. “Before you ask, nobles are the descendants of the pokémon used by the legendary hero of the Celestica people, and which have been blessed by Arceus.”

“I see. Is the Sneasel…?” Emmet’s voice trails off as he looks around for the pokémon, yet another remnant of Ingo’s life lived in the past.

“Yes. She is the child of the noble I tended to.” Seeing his brother’s failure at attempting to find the Sneasel, Ingo starts to whistle. 

The tune is short and low, long high notes starting it and a sharp trilling repeating at the end. It makes the hair on the back of Emmet’s neck stand up. 

There’s a scuffling sound in the distance before a purple streak of a pokémon shoots out of Ingo’s room. Her claws scrape against the hardwood floors as she bolts towards the couch and leaps up onto Ingo’s lap. 

“Wouldn’t it be easier to simply call her?” Emmet asks, reaching out a hand; the Sneasel sniffing at it and nipping the tips of his fingers.

“I suppose it would be, but I do not want the young one to forget what the song means to her.” 

“What is it supposed to mean to her?” 

“Home.”

Emmet pauses before asking his next question. “What does it mean to you?” 

Ingo scratches under Sneasel’s chin and tilts his head to the side, lost in thought.

“Home," he says again, firm in his words.

“I see.”

“Does that bother you?”

“I don’t see why it should.”

“That isn’t what I asked.”

He cannot look his brother in the eye, so Emmet stares at the teacup held within his hands instead. It is painted to resemble a Chandelure, though the orange color and leafy handle gave away its Kalosian origins. It was one Elesa had bought for him years ago at a festival in Kalos. He wonders if Ingo remembers that.

“Were you happier there?” he asks, staring into the painted eyes of the teacup. They stare back, soulless. 

Ingo is silent for a while. Emmet fears he has said something wrong, which is strange. He has never had to worry over things like that when it comes to Ingo. 

“I don’t think I ever could have been satisfied," he finally says, which only leaves Emmet more confused than before. 

“What do you mean?”

Ingo draws a breath that is long and low, like the ones he takes before he bellows out congratulations to a challenger for emerging victorious. 

“At the start of my time in Hisui, despite my lost memories, I could tell something was… off. Seeing a Zorua in the icelands or an Electrode tumble out of a tree— they felt wrong in a way I didn’t have the words to describe. I wanted to know more but simply couldn’t. It didn’t seem within my ability to learn more about my life before the rift on my own, and now I know it wasn’t. My truth only returned when Lady Dawn arrived.”

Ingo scratches under Sneasel’s chin, who purrs in delight.

“My first memory to return was of a person. A man in white who shared my face, and who loved winning more than anything else.” 

He smiles to himself, the Ingo version of a smile that doesn’t change much about his expression at all. Not many people would be able to tell, but Emmet could. He sees the happiness in his eyes.

“That was what kept me going for a long time, this mystery man. I needed to know what he meant to me.” Ingo’s voice grows softer. “Even when some of my other memories started to trickle in, it was always you who kept me going.”

“You did not know who I was, yet you left your home in Hisui to find me.”

“It’s as I said before: I could never be satisfied. Perhaps if every last one of my memories had been stolen, I would’ve been. But they were not, and not knowing was so much worse than anything that could have awaited me beyond the space-time rift.”

“I see.”

Emmet cannot stop himself from asking the next question, even if he wanted to. He barely knows he is thinking it at all before his voice rings out. 

“Will you ever go back?”

He sounds scared, even to his own ears.

Ingo looks at him out of the corner of his eye. “To stay for good?”

“Yes.”

“No.” There is no hesitation.

“Why not?”

“Hisui doesn’t have you.”

They are quiet for a while. Ingo drinks the last of his tea. Emmet watches as Durant stomps after a pair of Joltik who are chirping at her excitedly. He can hear Chandelure and Galvantula talking to one another over in the kitchen.

When Ingo speaks next, his voice is quiet. He sounds small. 

“Is it wrong of me to miss it, sometimes?" He sounds small. Emmet doesn't like it.

There is no hesitation when Emmet shakes his head.

“How are you sure?”

“What I do. What I say. Always the same.”

Ingo sighs heavily, the kind of sigh Emmet hears a lot more now than before. He looks so tired. Emmet wishes there was more he could do. 

"I can tell that I belong here in Unova, but sometimes it feels like a piece of myself was left behind in Hisui.”

“Of course you do. That is what happens when you love someone.”

Sneasel leaps out of Ingo's lap and starts to chase after Durant as well, the Joltik squeaking in delight. Durant gnashes her mandibles in annoyance. 

Ingo watches her leave, his eyes glowing eerily in the light of the early morning. 

“They gave me so much. A home, a purpose, a family. Even the freedom to leave, when I wished it so.” Ingo screws his eyes shut. “They gave me everything and now they are all gone.”

His voice breaks on the last word, and Emmet has never felt so helpless. He is good at battling. He is not good at emotions. But this is Ingo, and he’s never been the best with emotions either. 

This is Ingo, so he has to try. 

Emmet reaches out and takes his brother’s hand in his. It is shaking. 

His fingers curl around to hold onto Emmet’s hand more securely. Ingo’s grip is strong and it reminds Emmet of when they were children, screaming at the top of their lungs in a mixture of fear and delight as they fled from the army of Venipede scurrying after them. Ingo’s hands were different back then, so small and delicate. Now his left pinky sticks out at an odd angle and his palms are rough with calluses. 

It is still Ingo, though, so Emmet doesn’t mind.

He brushes a thumb over a thin white scar that has sliced its way across Ingo’s knuckles. He wonders how it got there.

“Everyone says things get better,” he murmurs, thinking back to the woman with kind eyes who Elesa forced him to visit when things were especially bad. “They do not tell you how hard it is in the beginning.”

Ingo’s grip loosens the slightest bit. 

“I was not myself when you were gone.” A beat passes, and Emmet knits his eyebrows together before correcting himself. “I didn’t know how to be myself without you.” 

How could he? He never had to be without Ingo, even in the earliest time in his life. Ingo was older, after all, even if only by seven minutes. Living in a world without Ingo was something he never had to think about, before. He never wants to live in one again. 

Emmet swallows. “The Ingo that came back is a different one that left, and that is okay. You shouldn’t have to leave him behind because you are back in Unova. That Ingo is still Ingo. I am sorry if I ever made you feel like he wasn’t.”

“It is alright.”

“No, it isn’t.”

They fall silent again. Ingo’s voice is quiet when he speaks.

“Perhaps… I should ask Lady Cynthia to look through some old records of Sinnohan history. It would be nice to know where they all ended up.”

A smirk overtakes Emmet’s face. “Perhaps we can find more photos of you.”

He can’t help but laugh when Ingo reaches to pull his cap down to hide his eyes in embarrassment, only to realize it isn’t there.

When Excadrill waddles into the room and Archeops launches himself off of the couch to wrestle with her, the gears in his head start to turn. 

“You know… We could go to visit. Hypothetically speaking.”

“I don’t think Almighty Dialga would allow such a thing.” Ingo watches as Elektross twirls around in the air merrily. “Besides,

the Diamond Clan would be very upset with us for using their god to go on vacation.”

“Dialga isn't the only pokémon with control over time.” Emmet reminds, grin turning sly. “Perhaps we should put a stop to Ilex Forest on the schedule.”

“I do not think the depot agents would appreciate our departure.”

“They will get over it.”

Ingo snorts at that. Elesa would’ve compared him to a Tepig, but Emmet disagrees. It is too loud not to be a Pignite. Perhaps even a timid Emboar, if you were generous.

His face turns somber once more as he lets out a long breath. 

“I think…” He pauses, still deciding in his words. Emmet’s leg starts to bounce in anticipation, but he forces himself to stop. “I think you would’ve liked them.”

Emmet does not need to ask who. He knows. 

“I think I would have too.”

#the teacup is based on another comic i saw #couldnt find it but the teacup stuck with me #submas #ingo #emmet #subway bosses #subway boss ingo #subway boss emmet #pearl clan #pokemon #pokemon legends arceus #pla #elesa is mentioned a bit #so is irida #sneasel #joltik #ingo and emmet #pokemon bw #writing #also posted on ao3 but thought i would put it here just because

[grippingbeskar]

The Element of Surprise | Chapter Seventeen

Part Seventeen: The Force

mando x fem!reader

word count: 7.9k

warnings: canon typical violence, description of injuries, mentions of blood

a/n: WOW i cant believe ive stuck with something this long - i think I only have like two chapters left?? i wanna do an epilogue too so plus that but I think just two omg! thx for reading u beautiful people

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You needed to change clothes.

When you scrambled out of the room you hardly got to spend 24 hours in, you didn’t even think of grabbing clothes. Your bag was sinking low on your back, straining your shoulders with the weight of whatever weapon you stuffed in there, though.

At least that was something.

Din left a strew of weapons around the Razor Crest, and you noticed how he stopped keeping his few personal items locked up the longer you spent around him. Now, he just dumps whatever he was carrying and knows it will be just as safe where he leaves it, because he trusts you. Your heart pulls at the mere thought of him.

You didn’t think that an emotional feeling could cause such a physical response, but you feel it everywhere - like you were being dragged underwater by it. You missed him - so much it made your mouth dry and your body cold. The only thing worse than the longing, though, was that you were worried about him. You know he can take care of himself, you’ve seen him in action enough to be sure, and he’s been doing this kind of thing alone for years before he ever met you - but it didn’t make the terrifying thoughts in your brain any less real, and did nothing to soothe the pit in your gut when you imagined who was after him. It was physically exhausting - trying to keep yourself somewhat composed enough to take care of the kid while simultaneously look for any sign your bounty hunter was still alive.

Your first thought was to make your way back to the ship - but after checking with the same mechanic you left it with, it was clear Din hadn’t so much as passed by. The mechanic remembered you - and the speed in which he ran away as soon as you took your leave told you he would have remembered seeing the Mandalorian.

So - you gather your information.

The ship was still here, meaning there was a very large possibility he was still on the planet. It would take an army to tie him down, so your mind isn’t convinced he would have been taken off world. There was still a few days before all the repairs on the Razor Crest would be finished, and you gave the mechanic your best puppy dog eyes to convince him to work as fast as possible. But - there was still at the very least 48 hours.

Anything could happen in 48 hours.

Ships continue to zip past as if nothing has happened. The planet still beats down in heat with its risen sun, people open up there stalls next to you preparing for yet another day, but time had stopped for you. It was the first time in months that you remembered what it was like to be truely on your own. A little hand came out the top of your bag and whacked you on the head again.

“You do that again and i’ll cut off.” You grumble and hear him squeak.

Okay, that was mean.

“Hey. I’m sorry, okay. I’m just scared, and stressed. I know you are too.” You feel him - not his little hand but his energy reaching out to you like that first time under the tree. You can see flashes of things - lights, planets you don’t recognise, faces and voices that don’t match. Moments that you remember and some that you dont, and they all blend together. You have to take a few steps to the side and lean against a wall, your head starting to pound at the intensity of his Force slamming into your brain.

Grogu is showing you something. He’s trying to share something but it’s all fuzzy. You can’t tell if it’s him not being clear or you not being focused. It’s all coming so fast - so you zero in on one. It’s the one that seems the strongest, holds your attention the most as it flashes past.

It’s one of Din - of course it would be.

You see the image come into view, clearer now that you have something to focus on. You remember this, remember this moment that plays in front of you. The background comes first, busy city and hot air surrounding you. Nevarro. Home of the Guild, he called it. You know this is your memory because you remember how you felt here.

You were angry with Din. Angry because he’d left you alone in the ship for hours after he…

Shaking the thought away you keep searching the memory, trying to keep concentration through all of the power surging through you. That’s when see another body come into view. Your hand felt cold, because it was resting on the knee of beskar armour, and you were sitting in a cantina. It was strange to see yourself - know that you were there but watch as if you were a stranger. You were sitting next to Din, and there was someone opposite the two of you.

Greef Karga.

He slides you a drink, you know it’s him because you remember he mentioned your father that day. He knew him. You listen to the voice - you see Kargas mouth moving, the words slightly out of sync as he spoke.

“I thought you might recognise him.” The holo gram. You remember why you were there in the first place - Din was picking up new bounties. Karga slides the puck closer to you, and you see yourself lean in as he continues to speak.

“Part of the crew that are responsible for your father’s untimely demise. Take it if you want, don’t if you don’t, but I had a feeling you might be the type interested in a little revenge.” A small burn comes to your throat as you stare at the face in the holo gram. It’s a face you would never forget - the face that belonged to the body of the man that slaughtered your people like they were nothing more than farm animals. The face that killed your father, tore apart your life and your family - destroyed everything. Your mind starts to fracture and you lose the memory for a second - Grogu’s urgency splicing you.

“I can’t - slow down, kid.” You hear him squirming around, and the memory plays again, a little cleaner now. The words sync up with his movements, and you can’t help but look at Din as he sits next to you, obscuring your body from view. You didn’t notice at the time, but every so often he would stare at the hand that hung around the back of your chair and then look away, as if he was contemplating where he should put it. You blink a few times as the memory continues.

“Take it if you want” Karga says. Dins hand comes up and slides the puck into his pocket. He took it. You completely forgot that he took it. You were mad at him after, too. The emotion rushes back and you stumble a little, leaning harder on the wall as it hits you all at once. You thought he didn’t trust you enough to take it on yourself. You argued with him, and then he told you why he refused to let you follow it. Why he wouldn’t follow it. You hear his voice in your head and you physically sink down the wall at the sound of it.

“Why give this to me now?” Memory-Din snaps your focus back in as he speaks to you. He knew Karga better than you, better than probably most because he was so damn observant, so he knew it wasn’t out of the kindness of his heart that Karga gave this tracking fob over, and that he made it a point to do it in front of you. “Something else at play.” His voice begins to fade out and you try your hardest to focus, to reel it back in, but soon your vision returns and the memories are gone, so too is the comfort of his voice. You stare at the opposite wall - it was almost the colour of beskar.

“Holy shit. That’s where he’s going?” Finally your mind comes back to you and you suck in a breath. Grogu just whacks you on the head again, as if he was trying to push you forward. You shake your head in disbelief. You don’t really know what to think right now. Most of you is happy - ecstatic even. You have direction, you know the kind of person chasing him. At least it’s not the empire.

But you couldn’t help the low burning in your stomach. You were a little angry. Not really - he was missing and there was nothing more important than finding him. But he made you feel like an idiot for even thinking about going after that bounty. He called it a trap, and now he had put himself in harms way on purpose.

For what reason - you had no idea. You would deal with that later, because there would be a later. You would have all the time in the world to argue with him and be mad at him, so long as you had him with you. The anger soon chips away, worry gnawing in your chest and Grogu whacks you on the head again.

“Okay! Okay, I get it. You have any more smart ideas about where I should try first?” You open your mind and instantly - as if the Force was just waiting for you to reach out, you know where you should go. You turned left, the beating sun interrupted as you walked by the flashes of ships that zipped past. You tried to clear your mind as best you could, but as you focused on your goal, it was impossible to get Din out of your head.

You’ve seen these guys take down entire groups of trained Jedi. Hell - they probably killed your father. He was strong in the Force, and a skilled fighter - so was everyone on your home planet, and they were slaughtered all the same.

Your mouth went dry again as you started to sweat. You turned right, and prayed to anyone listening that they would lead you to him.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Maker, you missed him.

Just walking down these streets again, you remember when you arrived just a day ago. How easily time passed - too fast - just talking about nothing. You were really trying to focus on what you were doing - but you were so in your head that it was almost impossible to do anything but drown in your own stupid thoughts.

It’s been a few hours since you last tried the comm link, and you haven’t said a word out loud since - too absorbed in your own mind. Grogu has fallen asleep in your bag, and your glad he doesn’t have to be awake for this walk - you knew you probably weren’t that great company right now. You can’t help but imagine what would have happened to him if you hadn’t told Din to bring him in the room, if he hadn’t been sleeping right next to your head. Even if you had woken up a second later. The blaster in your bag feels a little heavier now you know you’d have to use it if they caught up to you again.

Eventually, the people bustling around you start to thin out, not because it gets later but because you start to reach the outskirts of the city. The buildings are far shorter and fewer between, less ships have been whizzing past as you walk further out. You only notice because of how hot it starts to get and you miss the occasional breeze of a speeder as they fly past. Tatooine is hot, but you had never maintained a connection to the Force this long on that planet, and it was taking its toll. It took focus and a lot of your energy to consistently find the right path, so at the first sign of a semi-safe spot out of the sun, you collapse on the side of the road.

There was a cutoff just past the end of the street, and a few crates stacked up sheltered you from any peering eyes. You also take note of the fence, and how it was small enough for you to get over but tall enough to buy you some time if you have to make an exit. This was the shit you had to think about back on Tatooine when you first arrived, before you found a little place. You slept on the streets for about three months, so it’s not the familiarity of the cool concrete beneath you that sends a slow shiver down your spine.

You had thought you’d never be out here again.

Since you met Din, you had dared to dream that these days might be behind you. He made you feel safe. Protected - like, how even though you knew you could, you wouldn’t have to fend for yourself any more. You would protect each other. You even missed how people slid out of your way when you were with him, the hustling city sending people flying into your shoulders and nearly knocking you down every few feet. You forgot what it was like to feel invisible, and you don’t like the taste.

The bag slides to your side and Grogu’s sleepy head pops out. Seeing his giant bug eyes makes you smile a little, feeling you back in.

“Hey, buddy. You doin’ okay in there?” He gurgles a sound and you think it means he’s happy, but doesn’t smile. You know he must be missing Din too. They’d spent a long time together before you. He jumps out of the bag into your lap. You were pretty tired - all that flying around in the ship has done nothing for your stamina. Maybe if you just rested here for a second….

It’s almost as if he knew. As soon as you closed your eyes, the comm link crackled static. Like it was turning on.

You move so fast Grogu screeches in your lap. The comm link was still in your ear - you were scared you would miss something if you put it down for even a second.

“Hello?!” You shout and whack at the side of your head. You lower your voice to say his name a couple times, and sink into the silence that follows. Nothing comes back, and you say more words, any words you can think of to fill it. He has to be there.

Waiting. Still static.

“Din?” you whisper, voice shaking.

Suddenly-

“Ge- outsi- ty. Co-“ That voice. His voice. How-

“Din! Shit - Din! Where are you?!” More static. A few blaster shots, you know what they sound like through the comms. Then -

“Get out of- city. I’ll find you.” A full clear sentence, only interspersed by what you can only describe as chaos crackling down the comms. You don’t have any time to question it.

“I am! Din, just tell me where you are! Please!” Grogu was wildly buzzing around on the floor, clearly hearing the same voice.

“I’ll find you.” The static comes back and then the line goes dead.

“Din! Hey!” You take the comm out of your ear for the first time in hours and try to turn the camera on. You don’t see the green light like last time, and no more static has buzzed.

He’s gone again.

“Din!” You said a little half hearted.

It was pointless. Maker, he could be anywhere on this planet being shot at and your sitting in some dumb alley feeling sorry for yourself. You put the comm back in your ear and bite your lip to try and not cry. You are so focused you nearly miss it.

“-always find you, cyar’ika.” His voice crackles through the static one final time before cutting off for good. Your heart swells. It’s been less than a day and you nearly forgot what that word sounded like coming from him. Even muffled, with a heaving breath in between it made you warm all over. You knew what it meant now - sweetheart. He knew exactly what you needed from miles and miles away and -

Oh god, you needed to move. Like, now.

“Come on, kid. Let’s get the fuck out of here.” You scoop him back up into your bag and swing it over your shoulder. You pull the blaster out before, though, and attach it to your hip.

Just in case.

You were tired as shit and your legs hurt, but he needed you, and hell if you weren’t going to get to him.

You let yourself focus. Stepping out onto the street, your eyes fluttered shut as the Force buzzed all around you. You needed calm, your emotions were through the roof right now. The only person who even seemed to allow you that peace, though, was Din

So you drilled into that. Him - his voice, the words he whispered in your ear he thought you were asleep. Helmet off and body warm behind you in a makeshift bed. The way he feels - his skin, every scar and where they were and how they feel under your hand. How he reacts when your lips drag over each part of him, the sounds he makes. You see him in your mind - and he’s helping. Guiding. Just like before you jumped out the window. Like he has all along. You turn right out of your little alley. You feel Dins hand, how surprisingly soft it was against your cheek that first time he touched you. How it lit a line of fire across your face, how he left your breathless from that one touch.

You turn left, catching yourself off guard. You were doing this. For him. For yourself.

You keep walking.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Eye spy with my little eye, something beginning with ‘S’.” Grogu squeaks out a little sound in answer, and you sigh in defeat. “Yup. Sand again. You are just too good at this.” He slinks back into the bag, shuffling around to get comfortable.

Lucky guess, considering all you’ve been able to see for the past few hours is god damn sand. Ever since the city disappeared into the horizon behind you, it’s gotten significantly darker, and you could only just make out the lights of ships passing the taller buildings as they sped home. You had been following your senses as best you could, sometimes just closing your eyes and letting your mind lead you completely, but doing it for this long was exhausting.

He told you to get out of the city - but you had no idea how far that was, nor did you have any idea where to go from here. Exactly - here. As in right where you were standing in this moment. It’s like your mind just went blank.

No matter how hard you tried, there was not even another hint of where to move from this exact spot. You were in the middle of the plains outside of the city. The only evidence of life was the glowing city in the distance.

You were so far from everything - why would your mind lead you here?

Doubt began to wash over you - how could it not?

You were walking around half blind on a foreign planet, under a shit tonne of stress trying to follow the vaguest of instructions that has now led you to the middle of nowhere. You spun around in your spot, waking Grogu with your movement, who finally popped his head out. His head spun around in excitement.

“Be my guest.” You mumble in defeat as he begins to wriggle around. You swing the back pack off your shoulders and gently place it on the ground in front of you. Grogu jumps out and begins to wander around aimlessly in front of you, and you slump onto the ground in exhaustion.

Everything hurt. Your head was pounding from how hard you had to concentrate all day - trying to follow your own intuition was something that did not come naturally to you, years of suppressing your abilities have clearly made it hard to maintain. That paired with the overwhelming power of Grogu’s intensity earlier, you didn’t care how dirty the ground was, you could sleep right here if you weren’t so god damn terrified for Din.

As soon as you think of him, Grogu squeaks. You turn your head and struggle to see him at first in the dimming light. He’s gotten further away than you thought, your mind starting to faulter in your exhaustion, so you grab your bag and hurry over to him, adjusting the blaster on your hip. As you go to move, you nearly stumble over, feeling light headed.

No - just a little longer.

He’s waddling around in a circle, kicking at the sand as if he’s found something you don’t see.

“Sand, bud. Plenty of it.” You kick at the pile next to your foot, and the scrape of your boots against something hard makes you stop. Dropping to your knees you can feel the difference underneath you. Oh.

It’s metal. Like the floor of the Razor Crest. Hard and unnatural in the terrain.

Swiping at the dirt and sand, more and more metal is revealed under the dying light. You would have missed it completely if it wasn’t for the kid - you expose as much of it as you can from your spot. After a while, hinges and ridges are slowly revealed.

Silver reflects back at you, and you twist your body on the spot to fully examine the space. Not big enough for more than two people to fit side by side. -

Its a trap door.

Or maybe just a door. More like a hatch. There’s a handle, so you pull it.

It’s locked.

Of course it’s locked.

“You are so smart, kid. Think you can pull this open for us?” Grogu had ten times the strength you did, so if anyone was going to be able to open this door, it was him - and you would help. As much as your exhausted brain could.

It took all of your concentration as Grogu waddled over next you to even focus on the surface. You ran your hands over the hinges - reinforced metal. You shuffle back, knees aching as you slide off the centre of the hatch. You and Grogu used your combined strength, beginning to pull the trap door upwards.

You tried to focus - calm your breathing. You thought of Din, how he needed you now, needed you to focus and just push a little bit longer even though your head was throbbing and every muscle in your body was screaming at you to stop. You were starting to shake. You knew you were pushing yourself further than you should - but you needed this. Needed to find where he was and if you just looked a little harder for a little longer you could -

“I’ve been looking for you, girl.”

Your eyes shot open at the feeling of the end of a blaster being pressed into the flesh of your neck.

Fuck.

You were so concentrated on the hatch. On finding your way. You were followed - and you didn’t even realise.

The blaster pressed harder to the back of your neck. Your own pressed into your thigh. The kid waddled in front of you and one hand shot out to bring him closer to you. The other inched a little closer to the blaster. Just an inch -

“One more move and you lose your head.” You felt him step closer. Everything was on high alert. You suddenly felt strong.

No pain.

Adrenaline. Powerful shit.

You could hear your own heartbeat. Grogu’s heartbeat. Both were fast.

Unlike whoever was behind you.

He was deadly calm.

You heard the click of the gun. You closed your eyes.

He wouldn’t shoot. You don’t know why you knew - but he wouldn’t shoot. The gun will not go off, and he wouldn’t pull the trigger. That’s why he was so calm. He knew he was just here to intimidate, which meant he probably had back up somewhere. Your eyes flicked to the side and Grogu squeaked in your arm as you saw a quick flash of metal. Another man appeared to your right, then another to your left. The one on the left had his gun raised, and his heart rate was elevated slightly. If anyone was going to shoot, it would be this guy.

“Toss the gun.” You don’t move - just monitor. Trying to gauge how much you can get away with right now. If it was just you, you probably would have made a move already. It was dark so you had cover, and you knew with all this adrenaline you could run far enough into the outskirts - but the kid. You couldn’t trust yourself to keep him safe as well. You were outnumbered and weighed down. “Toss the gun, or my friend isn’t gonna be so nice to your little womp rat here.”

The guy on the left clicked his gun. He would shoot if you didn’t do what he said. The gun on your neck was still pressing painfully tight. You toss your gun just out of reach.

“There’s a good girl. Just like your daddy.” Your eyes goes wide and you don’t hold back as you whirl around - but it’s too late.

The butt of the gun whacks you straight in the face as you spin, and the world goes black.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

You suck in a huge breath.

It felt like someone was standing on your chest. When you sucked in more oxygen a sharp pain shot up your right side. He kicked you - you think.

The butt of the gun knocked you out cold, but you had moments of clarity; throwing your body around in desperation. You hoped you at least got a few good hits in - they certainly did.

You could feel the dried blood across your brow, and your ribs had to at least be seriously bruised. Your knuckles were sore, and the ropes around your wrists were burning against your skin. You sucked in another breath, spluttering against the pain as you let it out, trying to collect yourself.

You were tied to some kind of metal ring on a concrete wall. The entire room was a dark grey, and there was a toilet in the corner that looked like it hadn’t been touched in this lifetime. Apart from the gated door, small slates only just allowing light into the room from the hallway, the room was bare.

Bare.

The kid - Fuck!

You suddenly remembered where you were - what was happening. Instantly you were thrashing against the rope - desperation fuelling your movements. How long had you been out? Maker - if they had the kid -

You knew what they did to Jedi.

Oh god - you were going to be sick. Maybe if you could just focus. Calm your mind.

You can find him.

You were still pulling at the ropes, but you let your eyes close, squeezing them tightly together to block out the room. You tried to channel that energy that led you to the hatch in the desert.

Grogu - you called in your mind. You had no idea if this would work. You didn’t have any hope of reaching someone without the Force, but Grogu was strong. Maybe if you stuck your hand out he could do the rest. Hell, you trained him. You knew he could.

Grogu - you could hear footsteps approaching from the hallway. Boots on pavement. You knew the sound. They were - troopers? It sounded like heavy armour, similar to beskar but not quite. These guys weren’t empire though, where they?

Grogu! Your mind flashes white, and you pull against the rope in surprise when you here him. A squeak followed by him saying your name. He was safe. You don’t know how you knew it because he didn’t say anything except your name, but you knew he was safe. He was calm - hidden somewhere. Thank the Maker he got away. Was he down here somewhere? Had he found Din? There has to be a way to get out of these stupid ropes.

You tug against them again and hiss in pain as you feel the rope rip your skin, blood seeping down your wrist.

The door swings open, bright lights flashing over your eyes.

It takes you a second to see the figures clearly. But when your eyes adjust, you would know them anywhere.

Stormtroopers.

Stark white armour, the two troopers already have guns drawn. One steps forward and presses the hilt into your stomach and you wince, face screwing up. You swear the second trooper flinches as he turns to shut the door, locking you in with the both of them.

“No tricks, Jedi. Your surrounded.” The troopers low drawl makes your eyes open again. Your hand slips a little in the rope, and you think now it’s cut into your skin the blood around your wrist has made it easier to slip out. You need to be subtle. The second trooper stays back a little - lurking in the darker corner like he’s waiting for something, and you think you would rather he just punch you in the face. It would be less intimidating.

You need to buy yourself some time.

“Surrounded? What, by you two?” You scoff and twitch your body, trying to move the gun off the bruised side of your ribs. With the movement your hand slips a little further out.

“There’s more where we come from, kid. If I don’t bring you up, someone else will. Or they will just shoot you where you stand. Maybe I will.” He presses harder. Why hasn’t he made a move to untie you?

“You couldn’t make the shot with your gun taped to my head.” You hear the second trooper cough a little, and the one in front of you punches you square in the face. Your eyebrow begins to bleed again and everything goes a little fuzzy.

“I’ll teach you to disrespect the em-“ The trooper is cut off by a single shot.

To his head.

The blaster from the second trooper is still aimed and smoking, and your vision focuses enough to watch him place another perfect shot in the exact same place through his skull after he fell to the floor, confirming his kill.

Your hands slip from the rope and you move.

You catch him off guard, slamming your shoulder into his stomach. The air is sucked out of him as he crumpled to the ground, and you drop on top of him in the same second.

The blaster from the first trooper lays discarded on the ground, and you use your last remain strength to Force-pull it into your hand, aiming it right between the eyes in his helmet.

You can feel his deep breathing as you sit on his chest, his hands coming palm up beside his head in surrender as your knees keep his biceps pinned to the ground.

Two hands hold the gun to his head, and your half tempted to rip the helmet off him and press it into his skull - just to make sure. Your hands shake slightly but you have enough strength to hold him down. He doesn’t say anything, though. Just sits there with his hands up - staring silently as you both catch your breath.

“The door. You’re gonna open it.” Your head tilts towards the locked exit, and the light streams perfectly over his helmet so you can see him tilt his head to the side - almost like he’s confused.

“The door.”

He lets out a strong breath and you rise up a little higher.

Was he-

laughing at you?

No. He only did it the once. Maybe he’s winded - you did hit him with everything you had.

You click the blaster into place. His head straightens. You don’t know what this guys deal is. He just killed his partner and now he’s sitting underneath you - saying nothing to justify his actions nor save himself. It’s almost as if -

“So demanding, cyar’ika.“

You nearly melt into the floor when you hear his voice. All the air leaves you and you can’t say anything. Dumbfounded. Confused. Was he-

“I told you I would find you.”

“Holy f-fuck. Din.” You flop onto him, discarding the blaster next to your bodies as he sits up and curls your body against him. Relief is the only thing you can feel as he holds you tight - so tight your ribs ache but you don’t fucking care because he was right here. You found him - he found you. It doesn’t matter because he’s here and you almost shot him for a third time - “You fucking asshole.”

It’s halfhearted at best, the insult coming out in a broken voice as he buries the stormtrooper helmet into your neck. The armour feels foreign against your skin but you grasp at any part of it to have him closer.

He was here.

You don’t know how long you sit there, your legs wrapped around his back pressing your entire front against him. His arms twist so far around you they almost meet twice, and he doesn’t move his face from your neck as you feel him breathing hard - harder than normal.

You pull back, staring into the white trooper mask and holding it with your hands.

“Are you hurt? Is everything - Grogu? We need to find him I-“

“He’s okay.” His voice cracks. The voice isn’t as modulated through the trooper mask - it sounds a little more mechanical, but you would know it anywhere. You just nod at him and press your forehead to the mask.

“Are you okay?” You whisper, not wanting to crack this moment.

“I am now.” You can’t help it - you grin at him and try to get him closer to you, pull the helmet closer. It doesn’t look like him but it’s him. There’s less protection around his neck so when your hands link behind him, you can feel every muscle relax under your touch.

“Din - I was so scared. I thought you - they came. To the house when you left. I had to run.” He nods and his own hands mimic yours, gloves cupping your cheeks and pulling your face impossibly closer. If he wasn’t wearing the helmet you would be kissing him.

“I know, baby. I - the guy who put us up. He sold you out. Apparently these guys have been paying some people in high volume places to keep an eye out for potential hits.” Fucking asshole. He swallows, and tries to continue. “I never should have left - this whole thing is my fault. I put you in danger, the kid as well I-“

“No. Din, please. This is not your fault. Let’s do this later. You’re here. I’m here. Kids here, somewhere. That’s all we need.” As much as you want to know what the hell is going on here - you need to go. The dead trooper wasn’t wrong when he said others were coming. You could hear another pair of footsteps descending stairs in the distance.

Din doesn’t let go of your face for a second.

“I will never put you in danger again. I - the - I love you. You are too - I’m sorry.”

“I love you. Do this later.” You mumble into his helmet and he scoops you up, legs finally unfolding to stand on your own.

“Your arms.” You are still so close that he doesn’t have to reach out to examine the damage. Your wrists were raw and there were some tracks of blood running down. They hurt, for sure, but nothing serious. It wasn’t until you took a step that you realised how bad your ribs were hurting. “Don’t move.”

His hands - so gentle in comparison to what they just did, lift up your shirt. You look down and see the dark purple bruise coming up most of your side. Both of you wince at the sight in unison, and you are the one that has to push your shirt down, because Din hasnt taken his eyes of the evidence, only moving when your hands link with his.

A feather light touch on your forehead causes you to flinch on instinct, but only for a second before you lean into Dins hand, not caring if it hurts. You want to feel him - to know he’s still there. It doesn’t feel real, for him to just be here.

But he always said he would find you.

“I have an idea, cyar’ika. You just have to stay very still.” He whispers into your ear, and it sends a shiver down your spine. Even here, he overtakes every rational thought. You just nod, exhaustion overwhelming you as he scoops you into his arms. “This doesn’t hurt?”

Shaking your head, you can feel the vibration of his words through his chest, the trooper armour significantly thinner as he lifts you into his arms, legs dangling in the air. It feels so good to be off your feet - finally - the aches in your legs almost disappear for a second. The door unlocks and you feel yourself change directions, and suddenly it gets light behind your closed eyes. Only one of Dins arms supports your weight under your upper thighs, the other free to execute his plan, whatever that is.

You hear the footsteps coming closer and your instinct tells you to run - or fight, but you just stay very still, trusting Din to lead the way. Your head rested against his chest and you could hear his heart beat. Proof he was alive and there.

“You should of seen him. Bane went ballistic when they said he couldn’t have it. Shot up the whole cantina.” A trooper speaks from the end of the corridor, and you feel Din turn to the left. “Hey! What are you doing?”

He freezes for a second, and then turns.

“Captains orders. She’s to be brought to the front.” Din repeats, his voice perfectly calm and monotone - just like a stormtrooper. It made you shiver a little.

“This is her?” You feel the figure step closer to you and you resist the urge to hold your breath. You were faking being passed out, not dead. Din must nod his head, because the trooper just scoffs. “Put up more of a fight on the way in. Doesn’t look like much now.”

Don’t react. Don’t react. You feel the energy radiating around you, and the light above you goes out.

“Uh - we have to - keep moving, trooper.”

“Yep. Move along.” Both troopers begin to rush past you, chasing the lights that haven’t gone out above them. Lucky that your head is buried into Dins neck or they would probably see your smile. You know Din can tell it was you.

“Nice touch.” You exhale once, but even the small movement and expel of your energy has your heart rate slowing. “Rest, cyar’ika. I’ll get you out of here.”

You do. You close your eyes and forget everything except Dins arm wrapped around you. How he’s holding you so tightly - like he’s forgotten how to do it and he needs to learn the shape of you by moulding it to him. You take every second of it, and pretty soon you think you fall asleep.

That is, until, you start to move. Fast. Wind starts to whip past your ear and everything around you is blurry when your eyes tear open.

“D-“ You go to say his name, but you see troopers. 

Lots of them. 

“What’s happening?”

“Kids through here. I need you to grab him and move. There will be a door on the left, go through it. I’ll- i’ll come to you.” He puts you down in a small corridor, and suddenly there’s a small door in front of you. He takes a step back and you grab his arm.

“No. We stay together.” Boots come up the stairs. You don’t know what happened but there’s red flashes lighting up your current hiding place. Alarms blaring. That must be what woke you.

“We - No, you have to go.”

“I’m not leaving you alone. There’s too many of them.” There must be dozens of them. They are getting closer, monotone shouts of orders echo at the end of the hallway.

“You have to go.” You just shake your head.

You just got him back. There wasn’t a chance in hell you were leaving him here. He takes a step back and you match it forward.

“I’m not leaving.”

“You are hurt. The kid needs you. I - I need you to be safe. I’ve done enough.” His voice cracks again. Sure, you get the need to protect you, he’s been doing that ever since you met him, but he’s going to get himself killed.

“You aren’t alone. We can do this together, okay?” He doesn’t say anything. Instead, you see the helmet look up a little to the door behind you. “Let us help you. Don’t leave - don’t leave me again.”

Maybe that was harsh - when you got a chance you know he would explain all this. Whatever it was, but it still did the trick. He looks back down at you, and even though he’s a little harder to read in this new helmet, you know he’s listening.

“Where’s your armour?” His head flicks towards the door and you pull him inside, shutting it behind you. You hear the troopers turn towards the sound. It won’t hold them long. “Where’s the kid?”

Instantly a little squeak comes from the corner, and Grogu waddles out, dragging something behind him. Your bag.

“You little genius.” You kneel down and you know you don’t have time but god - you were more worried that you realised. Here he was, both of them. 

Safe.

The door bangs with the force of troopers slamming into it. You unzip your bag. The blaster you had in your hip is gone, and they’ve taken your other weapon. Din had half his armour on in seconds, and when he turned to face you, beskar helmet back on his head. You look down at your empty hands - you have nothing to fight with except you. Grogu quickly waddles over to Din and squeals in excitement. You would have to be enough. 

This whole time it felt like he was protecting you - from what, you weren’t sure. Maybe that’s why he left you in that house, he thought he was protecting you from all this. But the truth is that you’ve been in danger the minute you chose to run all those years ago, leave you life behind, and it was only a matter of time before it caught up with you.

Whether Din was chasing this bounty for you or not, you were on this planet and they would never stop coming - you would never stop endangering the only two people you loved if you didn’t end this here. It couldn’t follow you any longer. Grogu’s little hand grabs onto your ankle, and he looks up at you. He would never be safe with you.

Not unless you did this. Now.

You were tired. Your rib cage was bruised to hell and your entire body was sore, but you felt it all around you. The energy - a life force in every part of this place. You recognised it - welcomed it as a friend instead of using it as a weapon, moulding it into something it was meant for, and it felt familiar. Safe. Warm. It was meant to protect and defend. To balance. You looked at Din, and he replaced his gloves and started attaching the copious amounts of weapons to his armour. 

He had enough enemies, you wouldn’t drag your own onto his door step.

You were tired - but right now you never felt more alive. 

Powerful.

The door flung open, and three stormtroopers burst into the room at the same time. Weapons drawn, they were firing the moment they stepped through the archway.

You braced for impact, Din’s weapons drawn faster than you could comprehend.

Except nothing came.

You didn’t realised you had your eyes closed. The click of blasters filled the room, but no shots were fired. Your eyes opened.

Red blaster shots. They were there, of course they were. Troopers were trained to kill on sight. Surely there shots were not this off target - you had heard stories…

No, the shots were on target. You knew because there was a small, red flame hanging just above your eye level. A shot that would have been a direct hit on Dins armour had you not stopped it.

You..

Stopped it.

In mid air.

All of them, actually. Every single shot fired was floating in the air, even Din’s. You could feel them. Count them in the order they were let off. Grogu was still wrapped around your ankle, you could feel his Force low and strong on the floor under you. Waiting. It wasn’t him, this was all you.

Your father would be proud.

Din says your name, and you don’t turn, afraid you’ll drop your focus. Somehow though, knowing how close he is to you, that he’s right there with you makes you feel sure that you won’t drop. Won’t lose focus. It’s almost… easy.

You turn the shots and send them in reverse, dropping the three storm troopers before you can blink.

You don’t know what to say. Clearly Din doesn’t either, because he just moves in front of you and stares. 

“You aren’t leaving me again.”

“I’m not leaving you.” Din says lowly, and swallows before he nods and leans out the doorway. “Seventeen of them. You think - think you can do it, that, again?”

You nod once; confident.

“If I could kiss you right now, I would.” You have to smile at that - the thought of him under that helmet. “Just so you know.”

You scoop up the kid in one hand, and it’s with that movement you realise it doesn’t hurt to move. Your ribs… they were fine. You felt fantastic - better than normal, actually. Grogu clung to your side, head dropping like he did when he was about to fall asleep. Though he only looked this tired after a training session. Had he…

“He healed me.” Din moves closer and lifts up your shirt, though he could have just looked at your now healed wrists. It sent goosebumps up your skin when his gloved finger traced a line along the now healed area. Completely healed, no bruising, nothing. No wonder you felt incredible. You brought him up to your face and hugged him closer. “You are so good. So good, little bug. I’m gonna get you all the lizards you can eat I swear.”

Grogu giggles in your arms and climbs over your shoulder into the pack you put on your back. Dins hand comes up to touch your face, drag a line across your cheek bone.

Just like the first time.

You both step out, seeing the troopers reinforcements, and this time you stand in front of him.

—————————

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#the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x y/n #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian smut #mando x you #mando x reader #mando fluff #mando smut #the mandalorian #din djarin x y/n #din djaren x you #din djaren x reader #din djarin x reader #din djaren #din x reader #star wars fan fiction #star wars #star wars tv

[lanceappreciationblog]

this is so silly but seeing starter headcanons reminded me of my own and it’s really silly tbh

it’s hard to explain in full without just absolutely infodumping about how i think Lance’s family dynamic works and every detail about them but i PROMISE it’s all connected in some meaningful way. and if i infodump anyways? im so sorry 😭

but ive always headcanoned he raised at least one of his Dragonites from an egg, but it wasn’t his first. my headcanon is that his first Pokémon was actually a magikarp when he was a wee small child on his birthday. to get into the fam dynamic for a moment, my headcanons are whacky but im the captain of this ship and im going down with it. his mom was a blackthorn dragon trainer and his dad was a random flying specialist and delivery guy and yada yada you know how the rest goes. but the parentals decided the best way to bring themselves together for such an important gift was to give him an almost-dragon with a flying typing thrown in it. but maybe not tell little baby Lance what he’s in store for right off the bat. too young to realize magikarp —> gyarados he was not too thrilled about getting Some Fish as his first. dad would always say though: “be patient little one! you’ll understand soon enough”. and it was a STRUGGLE (no pun intended[?])for the longest time Little Lance struggled hard to make any sort of progress. tragedy struck before the magikarp could evolve which takes Dad Man out of the picture. but when the magikarp finally evolved it was like everything clicked and made sense for Lance, for once things made sense. The gift that kept on giving with some love and patience, and I’d like to think this sort of “exercise” taught him what unconditional love meant at such a young age <//3. so in my messed up world, Lance’s oldest Pokémon is the (blue) gyarados!

bonus: this made the red gyarados event hit home way harder than ever, and boy did it hurt lance to see that since he has such a profound soft spot for magikarps and gyarados (bonus bonus(??) if he reacts poorly to people even joking about mistreating a magikarp even in the slightest)

bonus x3: before Lance’s first magikarp evolved, he found out how to make roses out of it’s shed scales and would give these “scale flowers” to his mom to try and cheer her up because that Tragedy really really got to her. little guy was trying his best.

SO SORRY FOR THE LONG RAMBLE ive been thinking about this for almost 2 years it’s actually insane. —🐌

I'm totally with you anon, Lance brain dump is an addiction, but I'm all here for it. 💪

But anywho, I ADORE this idea!! Lance always reminded me personally of a strong, fierce, Gyarados, but where does a Gyarados come from but a weak frail Magikarp? Lance never strikes me as a "prodigy" child, however, one who suffered immensely and had to work so much for where he is now.

Your idea of his parents being there for him and then half of them being suddenly taken away, (hey btw what is THE TRAGEDY? 👁 ), must've been so rough for him and I can only imagine the stress in his trainer life only became more difficult.

Also, Scale Flowers are soo sweet aaaah. <33

Gyarados will always be Lance's most personal Pokemon to me. They just have so much in common man. :')

#lance #hc #mod speaks #gyarados #anon #champion lance

[lunarlagomorph]

@lvnarsapphic

Okay ive been working on this setting since high school and its been almost entirely contained in my brain so its hard to actually impart information about people in it but ill try.

In one of the regions, The Hatchetlands (named after the fact a mythical hatchet was used to cut down the Forest [there's a capital F Forest and its bad to be in] to make room for civilization), there is an Elder-Scrolls-Empire style government called the Council attempting to unify the region under their rule. They don't have much competition but it isn't a region that's easy to maintain an iron rule over. There are a few reasons for the Council's supremacy, but a major one is that they have an incredibly advanced Division of Magical Sciences. The Division of Magical Sciences is, on the surface, a way to study how magic actually works, since its mostly only been taught as an art form rather than a science. Theres a lot more to this whole deal but ill get way off topic.

In reality the ultimate goal of the Division of Magical Sciences is something which would essentially turn the plane world into a magical-energy generating machine in a sort of end-of-eva way, at the behest of a otherworldly benefactor (again something that would take too much time to get into). Myella, whos original name was uh well i havent though of one but it wasnt myella, was originally the Gendo of this situation, eningeering a way to connect the thoughts and emotions of all sentient beings. She was killed in a coup within the Division of Magical Sciences by those who wanted to wrest it away from the Council.

Her body was dumped in the woods, where the lingering magic her research involved mingled with some fungi that had begun eating the corpse. Because of the connective nature of said research magic, the fungi were able to link their mycelium together (do you get the name now) into a functioning nervous system for the corpse, effectively Weekend-At-Bernie's-ing her. They can puppet her limbs around very effectively, though things like speech and digestion are beyond them. They do eat corpses, though it's mostly just how mushrooms usually do it. Myella has some access to their hosts's memories, abilities, and feelings, but for the most part they are an entirely new person.

Beyond being a mushroom colony piloting a half decayed meatsuit, the spores also maintain that connective magic, to the point that the mushrooms are able to sense their surroundings by spreading them, as a blindsense of sorts. This lends itself to a fighting style, which is basically never being hit by anything and hopefully something good happens (think vash).

They are able to expand beyond the single body, growing the colony, though distance ends up turning mushrooms left behind back to normal.

They can also use them to connect emotionally with people who spend enough time inhaling the spores, which allows for basic communication with constant companions. Eventually this ability is going to lead to them being the center of the end-of-eva situation their host had ended up planning, but thats in the future. At the start of their adventure, Myella is mostly just like a child exploring the world and discovering what everything is. So who exactly they are is something yet to be determined.

Sorry if this was a bit too much lol

#guess ill make some tags #oc: myella #hatchetlands

[haunted-kitty]

hi systems of tumblr i need Help. i am a questioning system and i have been for a long while now and idfk what to do or think anymore

i cannot talk to any sort of therapist / psychologist about this, so please give me any assistance you can even if its just "this sounds like ____" / "this relate to this and i have ___" / ANYTHING please

warning i dump some of my trauma here but i also put red text that just gives a summary without heavy desc so you can skip the description if you dont want to be triggered or upset.

tw child abuse, mentions of death / injury

basic info about me that may or may not relate

- i am a minor with cptsd & autism

- i have a Lot of repetitive trauma. like i dont wanna traumadump it all rn but a Lot.

- i am disabled

- all my older relatives are all shitty people which i cannot ask for help with this. all my younger relatatives would not be able to help. there is no one who i trust enough to help me with this So hiiii anon tumblr blog here i am

-i have not wanted to live for as long as i can remember [and i can remember very far back].

- i had a lot of periods in my childhood where i go Blank for a while, like, memory wise. i would "wake up" somewhere else the middle of an action and have no idea what was going on or why i was there. or felt out of control of my body, i dont know if this has lessened or if i have just grown used to the feeling if that makes sense

- i am psychotic. i have been since i was little and i know how to deal with it now and do not have any Serious delusions or hallucinations anymore

-ive been questioning whether or not im a system for a Long while now but i never get far with it because i literally cannot figure myself out.

- i do not feel i have a real personality

- i dissociated a Lot in childhood and even now.

- i feel like shit went Wrong when i was meant to develop into a normal person and i am now fundamentally fucked

- i have done a Lot of research of osdd/did [and disorders in general] on and off for some years and have never found a conclusion for myself Help me

trauma dump about my experience with possible alter - scroll to red text if you are triggered by: religious trauma, suicide mention / suicidal thoughts

when i was a child [this is abt when i was around 8] i was heavily in denial about the fact that i wanted to die.

i knew my parents [abusive] would react Badly and also i was religious and raised to believe i would burn in hell for it so i just Refused to admit that i hated living.

one day i saw it on the news with my parents [it was some headline like "suicide rates rising" or sum idfk sorry] and my mother said "who would be crazy enough to try and kill themselves" and she wanted an answer back so i said "haha yeah..." and i heard a voice behind me [like Right in my ear behind me] say "you would" [as in you would be crazy enough]

this was not an auditory hallucination. i did not have voice hallucinations at the age and it was extremely different to anything i have ever experienced.

and i was fucking terrified cause as previously mentioned i was raised religious and thought this was a demon trying to tempt me into sin and holy fuck there was a creepy girl whispering my deepest darkest most sinful of secrets in my ears

the voice whispered more into my ear about my inner workings and thoughts and stuff i was in denial of

i have no clue if this makes sense but when i heard its voice i saw like a Flash of info about it. like when you suddenly remember something and the whole memory just Vwoops into your brain? some physical traits and some personality traits, along with the fact that this thing Knows me deeply and knows everything about me?

i looked behind me and asked my mother if she said anything and she said no and gave me a weird look.

i never mentioned anything to anyone because i was convinced they would hurt me if i did.

i felt its presence in the back of my mind [it didnt speak often but even when silent i could feel its presence like the way you know when someones staring at you].

i kept refusing it and saying i did not want it and ignoring it everytime possible and eventually i felt it fade [not the right word but idk wtf to say. it went In or it just disapeared or something]. i felt kind of at a loss when it happened cause i didnt know what to do.

i considered the idea that it was trying to help me but even if it was i had no clue what it was.

TLDR: 8ish yrs old. i was in denial about my mental issues. i heard a voice in my ear very clearly wording out my mental issues in a way i could not. freaked the fuck out and ignored it even though i felt its presence for like a month and eventually i stopped feeling it there. no clue what that was

i told a system blog this experience once and they suggested that i look into bpd & aspd and that they dont know what to say as theyd never heard of something like that happening so young before

since then i have been never heard the voice behind me or any other solid voice. i dont know if it was an alter who went dormant or just some weird dream or hallucination or what.

i ignored it for all my childhood because i was scared. at some point a few years ago [covid times] i felt something similar again, not a voice but Something and i felt the immense need to try and figure it out. i did a Lot of work and all i could figure out was that voice probably Was trying to help me in some way. i was heavily in denial about most of my trauma and mental illness until like a few years ago because my family basically cult brainwashed me Haha.

also also i have had a lot of times where i have not felt Myself but have also still been there. its hard to word but i was still There watching myself do things and if i Really wanted i could try and stop my body from moving but like.... I didnt feel like i was Alone in my brain if that makes sense??? bru idk its that Feeling that someone else is there thing again.

trauma dump warning if you are triggered by: phys abuse [by father] mention, desc of me fearing my abuser would kill me scroll to red text

a time like this that stands out a lot is when i was younger [9+ -14] and my dad had just hit me and yelled at me and he pushed me down and i nearly hit my head on the stone kitchen counter but i just missed it and i was struck with this horrible fear because what would have happened if i did hit my head? i would probably be seriously injured. ive hurt myself on there before and it wasnt even that bad then but i still needed to go to the hospital. would i have died if i hit my head then? is he going to kill me now? and i was filled with so much fear i couldnt move and i had no idea how i would get out of this. i was literally backed into a corner. i completely spaced out.

i felt myself kinda Snap back in my mind for a second like idk how to phrase it but my mind Changed and all of a sudden i had a clear plan like Streamlined to my head and all emotion and desires other than SURVIVE were pushed out And like i felt So out of it and disorientated and ouguhhhhh felt weird bru idk how to word this shit was Odd and moving my body felt weird.

i saw myself run upstairs and check for injuries and try to clean up nd fix body but i did not feel like i was moving ??? like i was Out Of It and my body was just taking care of itself and i was just There like what is happening. OH I SORT OF HEARD A VOICE AGAIN HERE BUT IT WAS MORE LIKE. sudden dominant thought than voice in my ear voice. it was just telling me what to do and questioning if i had bandaids in my room.

TLDR: a time that stands out is when i was younger [9>14], i was being abused and nearly had a serious injury which i slimly avoided and was frozen with fear and spaced out. i suddenly felt myself snap back into place, disorientated and completely Weird, and felt thoughts [a plan to get out] that were not mine. i did not feel fully in control of my body and like i was being fed another persons thoughts as i saw my body tried to help itself. i felt like another persons thoughts were dominating over mine and all in all Strange.

anyway i kinda got back into myself after i was mostly taken care of but i was still Not Fully There if that makes sense??? like i still wasnt responding or thinking or talking or moving ANYTHING like what i usually do and i was aware of this and i was really confused about it and what was going on

sorry if this is worded wrong i wrote most of this late at night and again im autistic and get misinterpreted a lot and also my memory is kinda fucked up

anyways if anyone could could shed any light on this in literally anyway you could i would be super grateful.

ALSO if you think this is some form of osdd/did/plural thing Please tell me how to speak to the people in my head cause idk its weird like this i would like to know what is happening in there and not feel like im suddenly being possessed or like im insane

#questioning system #dissociative identity disorder #other specified dissociative disorder #osdd #system #did osdd #osdd system #did system #system help #plurality #dear GOD please show up in the tags #sorry if im using the wrong tags or terms or anything #im not used to tumblr

[schizosupport]

hey :) so im currently having what is likely psychotic episode, ive experienced various trauma both through childhood and with sexual abuse, and currently have struggles with eating, self harm and also have extremely severe anxiety, depression and then bpd and adhd too

i think more than anything i just want the validation that it is psychosis, that it likely isn't real but it's okay, and that getting help IS a good thing, bc ive been rejected from the public health system for it bc apparently im not psychotic and it wont get worse- as well as any advice on what to do about it all (im in australia if that helps)

uhm. so there's this guy called lamben that showed up about two months ago now, and since then hes explained stuff around me needing to help him take down the queen of the opposing nation, bc shes hurting his people and he brought me some of the victims and theyd had severe burns and everything and it's all more around magic

and so ive been asked to train with him to use the powers i have that are stronger than all of his peoples, which i can see it's like black smoke almost, and then also talking to this other guy called kesan whos the queens assistant thats against what's happening

and so there's been a plan made and everything of how to infiltrate the castle and im terrified rn of going through with it in case i get caught and stuck and i dont take her down i get taken captive

and idk if i sound dumb but like. either im able to connect with another world or its psychosis

and everyones saying it isnt real but i need help navigating it all if youre able to offer anything at all

tysm, know this was a bit of a dump but ty 🫶🫶

Hi there!!

I'm happy you reached out to me. It sounds like you got a lot of stressful stuff going on at the moment, both in shared reality and private reality.

To respond very simply, what you describe sounds like a flavour of psychosis to me, based on my understanding of reality, and I hope you can access some competent help with it. It sounds like a really stressful position you've been put in, where you are the only one who has the ability to save these people you feel have been contacting you.

I'm wondering how you experience your connection to this world? Is it as if reality around you changes, are they coming to you in dreams, or a third option?

I'm asking because I'm wondering what it might entail in "shared reality" to infiltrate the queen's castle? If you think about the actions you'd have to take, is this something that could put you in danger or trouble within the reality that we share with most people?

I'm not doubting your experience and that it's a type of psychosis, I'm asking to get a feeling of what the "real life" implications are of your beliefs and the actions you are being asked to perform. It sounds like you are aware that these beliefs and experiences are unusual, and at the very least aren't aligned with the reality other people are generally experiencing. So I am hoping you are able to think through how you've been interacting with this other world so far, to compare how your actions would appear in shared reality.

Because the first question to think about is whether this has the potential to be dangerous to you or others. Because if it does, you may need to escalate the asking for help. I don't know a lot about Australia, but in my country that would look like contacting emergency services if you feel that you are in danger of doing something that can be dangerous. But I would suggest trying to ask someone Australian, to confirm if what emergency services has to offer is actually helpful.

If the answer is no, it's not dangerous, that doesn't mean it isn't causing you significant distress. But it means you have more space to safely explore your options for help in your own pace.

It might also be that the distress it's causing you is in some ways a welcome distraction from other brain and life issues at the moment. Sometimes psychosis can be a type of escapism that the brain engages in. For example if you feel powerless, it can feel good to have special powers to save others, at least for a while, until the pressure might get to be too much.

It's not necessarily black and white, only good or bad.

As far as help goes, I wonder if you currently have anyone like a therapist or anyone like that, to work through trauma etc with? Or other types of support? Psychosis can definitely be heavily linked to stress, and lacking support to work through other difficulties you're facing can make it worse. The help offered for psychosis itself is unfortunately often somewhat lackluster, often it starts and ends with antipsychotics, even though psychotic people do benefit from therapy. There's at the same time a tendency for mh professionals to dismiss symptoms of psychosis, and to focus on them very single-mindedly. Many people experience either being dismissed, or to have the psychosis being acknowledged while everything else gets pushed to the side. So it can be complicated to navigate the system while having psychosis and other issues that tie in with it.

I hope some of this was helpful, feel free to return to my inbox. I wish you the best ❤️

[an0nfr0mth3d3n]

QSMP Zombie Au…Zombies

I am going to REGRET writing this at 2 am when I have yet to plug in my headphones and phone or the night all the way the 2 feet across my room.

(if I haven’t made it abundantly clear, ZOMBIES TERRIFY AND FASCINATE ME)

(MOSTLY TERRIFY)

Enjoy the zombie lore dump I guess

Appearance: Fresh zombies look just like living humans, BUT the further the infection takes a hold on them, the more glazed and foggy their eyes look. The zombies don’t actually exhibit symptoms of rot as the people are still…technically alive, they just have a mind controlling fungal virus trying to spread as fast as possible through spores. Not much about appearance here cause they don’t look dead.

(NO this isn’t a cop out because I don’t want to think of rotting zombies I promise)

Behavior: THIS WILL BE HUGE!!! There are several stages of the infection that will be explained.

Stage I. The virus has JUST been transferred. The victim is not contagious yet, and exhibits no outwardly symptoms. This stage is actually able to be reverted!!! If the victim immediately cleans the wound where it was transferred (unless the victim made out with a zombie, but that’s generally advised against) they will have a fair chance that the stages will not progress. Additionally, there is actually a chance that the immune system will be able to attack and kill the spores. By cleaning the wound, you have a good chance of survival if you have a decent immune system as well! Yippee!!!

Stage II. Eyes will be slightly glazed here. Not much. The victim might experience some twitching and spasms as the body fights its hardest against the foreign spores. This stage is also not contagious. There is a small chance of reverting back this stage as well if the body has an incredibly strong immune system and the wound has been properly cleaned. It is rare, but not impossible.

Stage III. Eyes are glazed over. This stage is mildly infectious. The victim is still able to speak, but might have some difficulties with mobility as the brain is now actively fighting against the commands of the spores. Putting the victim into a coma might offer a chance of reversion, but it would be risky. Movements are jerky and the victim might struggle with memory loss issues. Keep in mind the infection is spread by spores transferred through saliva or other fluids coming in contact with open wounds or mouth.

Stage IV. Movements are almost completely controlled by the fungus now. This stage is moderately infectious and there is no hope at reversion as of now. The only chance is to cryogenically freeze the body (shhh it works here) and wait for a cure to be developed. The victim might be able to say a word once in a while, or just barely slow down the victim, but it is NOT a thing to bet on.

Stage V. The fungus has complete control over the brain now. These guys are pretty fast, not inhuman, and you could outrun because it’s not perfectly adapted, but the fungus knows how to use the body. The person behind the fungus is basically in hibernation, maybe a cure could be found one day but for now they are pretty lost.

So I might add things on later to this, but yeah. Also these stages can progress differently depending on the situation and strength of the person. Could be a week, a few days, maybe more. The victim at least has 24 hours though.

Also I’m aware that in most modern day societies a virus like this (A. Wouldn’t exist) wouldn’t be much of a threat because of the reversions in the beginning and the military presence (FUN FACT the US military has several protocols for what to do during zombie apocalypses, and one of them has something to do with space zombies and zombie chickens.)

But anyways here the government is a bit scattered and not put together and they undersell the threat level until there’s a couple of Stage V’s chilling out and getting people .

So yeah. Feel free to add asks or stuff, and yeah.

#qsmp #qsmp zombie au

[wizardlizard32]

Been silent for a while so I thought Id give an update

Brain has been absolutely FLOODING with ideas for different projects I wanna make like stories and games as well as fanart pieces I realized I never did that I really wanna do and its been so much that Im having a hard time functioning as my brain is constantly dividing itself (Dont worry Im still happy just overwhelmed with thinks ;v;)

I've been experimenting around with softwares to see whats best for me to continue animating in/most comfortable and sadly scrapped some Ideas but I have settled on my next animation a big reanimation project for Sonic adventure where I try to reanimate all of gammas cutscenes. This is definitely gonna be a longer project but I have already started doing sketches to get an Idea of how to render em in my own style heres a little peak at that .

Im also doing a bit of a fan piece on the side of my favorite souls borne boss ever Pontiff Sulyvahn or as I call em MY BOI POPE SULL. Legit a great antagonist and just hands down the coolest fromsoft boss heres a look at that too.

I actually have more dine than this but not a lot more?

Anywho for game Idea stuff Im still workin on my little Weaver knight project I'm almost done Sir Apells reference sheet then I will be moving on to other characters and regions like "The Storied Knight" or "Craneus the fountain of scholars". This project always gets me super giddy and Ive even started thinking of a sequel game called "Voyager"

Heres some looks into these.

The whole Idea of the first game is to literally weave your way through levels with different types of thread that do different things enemies that can only be defeated with weaving and puzzles that work around the different thread types

And then we have story Ideas these are jumbling around in my brain the most sadly I dont have any art for the most of them that I havent shown already but the list goes

Tales of Uvanos - I really cant share much on this one without giving away its big twist but... Magical fantasy setting with some """fun""" takes in things like Dragons Magic and Bird People ;v;

Endless wilds - Monster hunter/Ghibli style post apocalypse with """"Magic"""" being more like an extremely unstable element on the periodic table than actual magic Robot tries to raise a Human child who thinks shes a Bird also sinister somethings crawling back up from a long gone age.

Unnamed scifi project - pretty simple people fight eachother in giant mechs theres a dinosaur alien dude antagonist simply named Shred who I do have a sketch for <:D

Prefantasy - FANTASY WORLD BUT SET IN THE CRETACEOUS PERIOD the people are trying to figure out the mystery of "the growing star"

I will eventually give all these original projects unique tags when they start getting really fleshed out but until then I got nothin.

Anyhow thats all I got for now hopefully this brain dump helps me get back to a functioning state so I can get back to work on...well ALL THIS O/_ [,,,,,,]

Anyhow sorry thank you GOODNIIIIIIIGHT

#update #brain dump #art wip #art #digital art #work in progress #sonic #Sonic adventure #animation #story ideas #fromsoftware #dark souls #ds3 #game idea #original work #fanart #pontiff sulyvahn

[rainfallbeats]

IDK HOW EDIBLES WORK OK

*slaps my hands on the table* thats ok because i do!

this post ended up being multiple paragraphs long and contains a lot of personal stories so if youre still interested its under the cut. tw for drug use obviously

now granted i havent had that many of them and the only kind ive had were these cookies my brother made but good LORD. sweet JESUS they were strong. like STUPID strong. i remember he prefaced giving me them with "i ate one and thought i was a little worm wiggling in the dirt" and i was like ok i think i can handle it

i could not handle it. strong edibles will slonk your shit silly style. theyre a bit different than smoking because it kinda all kicks in at once, smoking is usually a milder high unless its like a bong rip. i remember one time it kicked in and i could barely get the words "guys i think the edible hit" out before breaking into a 10 minute laughing fit. i was on another plane i was shot up to the moon

and again these were particularly strong ones it really just depends on the strain of weed and the dosage, but some of the effects ive experienced are as follows:

everything is funny. like everything ever is funny. i will just laugh for any reason if im high enough, you could jangle keys in front of my face and id start cry laughing. weed kind of just makes you stupid like that. ive noticed it helps with the adhd too because ill finally have the patience to sit down and watch things or do tasks without getting irritated

pain numbing/weird funny skin feeling. ive noticed that i usually feel warm when the weed kicks in and thats usually followed by like a tingly feeling and a reduced ability to feel pain. this is nice bc im an idiot who gave myself back pain from sitting weird so this makes it go away. probably not anywhere near as effective for that purpose as pain meds but ive never been on any prescription pain meds or anything that wasnt like, ibuprofen so i dont know

food tastes really fucking good. ive considered going back on my adhd meds with recreational weed bc the meds were an appetite suppressant and thats why i had to stop taking them. weed will make you hungry as FUCK and everything you eat will taste better

lower impulse control, this one is kind of a bad side effect because if you were already thinking about doing stupid shit and you get high then youre gonna do it. one time i was on call with a friend and kept chewing on my fingers til they were bruised bc i wanted to chew on something

slowed perception of time/distorted perception of reality. this one is either scary or cool depending on the person but i find it enjoyable. time will slow DOWN like minutes will feel like hours. every splatoon match i play while high is the longest one of my life, and ive found i usually perform better in games because im less stressed and more just absorbed in what im doing. that combined with the fact that my brain blurs the line between whats real and fake so if im playing a game itll feel real to me. i will be staring at the inside of the grizzco building and feel like im actually there, its crazy. playing video games while high is fun

ive noticed that if i get too high i kinda feel dizzy and not in control of my body, my head feels like its underwater and ill be sitting there rocking back and forth waiting to come down a little. which would be scarier but thanks to the funny giggly chemicals its not that bad. but its also not pleasant when youre in a social situation and want to try to act normal

im not actually sure what me dumping all this info accomplishes but maybe someone will see it and itll help them write a character that smokes weed or something. and like granted these are only my own experiences and not everyone is gonna share them but regardless, thank you for the ask

#personal post #weed #ask box

[because-im-a-mirrorball]

hey there marybeth it’s been awhile!! how are you? lots of things to Catch up On in my world! the job i was just starting the last time we talked ended up fiRing me after 3 months because i called their maNager out for stealing tips from our tip share so. that’s fun! not the best first entry into the workforce but it’s ok. my eras tour show was so aMazing, and i actually ended up standing outside the stadium in pittsbUrgh which was really fun!! i also went on a major Family vacation (not saying where because i’ve talked about it on my main haha) and it was incredible. but enough about me, what’s new with you? what are your plans for this Fall? my fall is going to be filled with school, volleyball, and mIssing my sister as she just left for college :( see you sooN!

CORN MUFFIN ANON MY BELOVED!!!! 🌽🧁 @cornmuffinanon sounds like you’ve had much going on!! I’m so glad you had a great time at the eras tour, I did too! I saw her in Atlanta and then was in the parking lot for Seattle and just loved it.

I did my student teaching Jan-April and just loved it. Loved my cooperating teacher, loved my kids, loved teaching. Passed edTPA!! Which was just disgustingly stressful and was a huge contributor to me absolutely disappearing from here.

I graduated college back in May, moved across the country, and am currently job hunting for a teaching position. I actually have 2 or 3 interviews this week so fingers crossed for that 🤞🏻🤞🏻. School doesn’t start til after Labor Day where I live now so that’s a weird schedule adjustment in my brain and it’s stressing me that I don’t have a full teaching position yet. I’m set up to substitute if nothing else, but I’d really ideally like my own classroom.

Let’s see, what else is new with me? Since last we spoke, I dated a guy for 2 months then got dumped 4 days after putting a label on it bc I was moving and he didn’t want to do long distance (he knew the entire time we dated that I was moving and we specifically discussed it when we labeled it). Good news with that though is that I got him into Taylor Swift so now he can never listen to her and not think of me :) small wins ya know?

Anyway so I moved and I’m much closer to my family (read: I moved back in with my parents and sibling after 3 years living alone… big change) but it’s nice to not be on total opposite sides of the country. I’ve managed to start making some friends/friend adjacent people with the group I found for dnd.

I’ve been reading TONS more this year, most especially this summer. From May to now, I’ve read 35 books! And total of 48 so far this year. My goal is 52 books and to read at least 1 page every day and ive met that so far! I have a 232 day reading streak. Best book find of this year by far is The House Witch series by Delemhach. It’s about this witch who becomes the cook for this king and castle of people and his magic all revolves around making people in his home feel safe and welcome 🥹🥹 it’s just so sweet and cozy and low stakes, while still having a compelling story and it’s SO funny!!!

I’m really in the fall mood and so excited for pumpkin spice to return this week 🍂🍁

Anyway there’s my life update ramble, thanks for listening Corn Muffin Anon!! I love you and hope you have the best day

#thanks for asking! #corn muffin anon #marybeth speaks #<- that tag really should be marybeth rambles but ya know it’s fine

[fantasmafanta]

chipspeech rambles so i dont explode

hi this is prolly gonna be a long post that makes no sense srry i just need to brainrot dump. but most important thing if ur not weird and you like chipspeech PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE dm me here so i can give you my discord or instagram where i am actually active more ahhhhhh.

ok anyway blue robots woohoo. these little bastards have been stuck in my brain for like a month now and its just gotten worse. the cool thing about chipspeech is it like doesnt entirely go with the rest of the vocal synth/vocaloid fanbase but rather than being its own seperate things its like this neat little extension of it in like multiple ways. it not only is just a really cool software that tried a lot of new cool things that we dont really see with like vocaloid and synthv and stuff but it also kinda shows the history of how we got to the point of modern vocal synth software in a cool way! even if you dont dive into it like i have you still get the basic “oh well voder was made in like 1939 and it had to be operated by hand how cool” and like through chipspeech you kinda get to see the evolution of how we got to where we are now and i think that thats really neat. 

but then if youre a nerd like me you get to have a ton of fun diving into all of the history and cool old tech stuff. liking chipspeech has made me find a new interest in old computers/tech/software/videogames do i fully understand how they work? hell no! do i love looking at them and having them explained to me by some dude on youtube? hell yeah!! and like its just so cool to go in and research the machines/softwares that inspired the chipspeech bots because even though its difficult sometimes you get to see these advances made and how each one differs from each other in how it was made, how it was operated, its function, etc. and thats SO. FREAKING. AWESOME. like dude have you seen the video of one of the tests for the votrax?? (the one that bert gotrax is based on) if you havent basically it was made so that people with disabilities so they couldnt talk could have conversations over the phone. they tested it by trying to order a pizza using only the software. it took like 3 tries before someone took them seriously and they got the pizza. and the moment they were like “yeah deliver that to the msu computer center” i got so excited cuz that just felt so badass!! like put yourself in their shoes, its 1974, you’re testing your new speech program, and it finally worked. a room full of people, a camera, a news broadcast (iirc), theyre all watching you struggle to order this pizza and then you finally do it and get to tell them to deliver it at the lab you just proved your intelligence to and fehjvddsujfs i cant explain my thinking but DUDE its just so cooooooolllllll!!!!!!! 

but like yeah i need to rant cuz in one of my lovely friend’s words i need to “GET THESE QUEERS OUT OF MY BRAIN!!” (a silly thing my irl said) also like i love the way the voices sound. like yeah sometimes i have no clue what theyre saying but thats not the point of chipspeech!! like vosim has such a nice buzzy voice and like dee no matter their range just sounds so.... great. i dont even know how to describe it it just makes my brain sooooo happy. like sam to most people would be like static weird... idk man but i loooove the staticky sounds theyre just so neat. but its so hard to find nice chipspeech covers/songs. luckily im starting to find how to discover chipspeech stuff but its still so difficult :(

and like fanart and general fan content toooooo how do i find it?? i think the answer is i dont but that makes me sad. cuz the twitters are no longer active and its never been very popular so it doesnt seem like we get much. and literally the only discord server for chipspeech is run by... not-so-great (from what ive seen/heard) people in the fanbase. even if the main accusations arent true it still seems to be a safe space for proshippers which makes me feel icky sooo. help. 

anyway im not re-reading through this so like sorry its so long and makes no sense i just need to get chipspeech thoughts out. if you like it PLEASE TALK TO ME!!!! im losing my mind ahhh

#chipspeech #fantasmarants

[raevenlywrites]

Hello! I feel like your an older sibling figure so I hope you don't mind if I ask for advice.

I am an overly sensitive person and conflict avoidant. If somebody talks in a rude tone to me I get upset and it gets stuck in my brain but I don't dare to confront them because my voice is small and I stumble over words and if I say how I feel I get emotional, so I'm scared to cry in front of them over the tiniest single incident. I try to just tell myself some people are just rude and its not my fault so I should just let it go but I can't seem to do it. It's like my brain takes it and makes it deeper and worse than it actually was. Is there something wrong with me? Or am I just one of those weak overly sensitive types?

Sometimes I wish I could stop caring and I wish I had a grumpy face so people wouldn't even talk to me

Hey Nonny,

You are definitely not alone in this feeling. While I've not been professionally diagnosed to say for sure, a lot of how I feel this way makes sense as something called Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria. It's common in folks with ADHD, where the emotional reaction feels extreme compared to the thing that caused it. It's like a switch, where it's either on or off, no middle ground. So you either don't care about what's happening, or it's emotionally devastating. There's no way I know of to treat it, but just knowing "oh hey, these feelings are falsely inflated due to my brain chemistry, I don't actually feel THIS STRONGLY about it it just seems that way because of RSD, it'll pass" really really helps. It still feels awful, but it gives me some mental distance to not be as attached to the feelings. It makes them less personal, and I can just kinda hold on to the life raft of "it's just RSD," til it ebbs. These episodes used to last for HOURS as I'd keep turning over and over what was wrong with me. Now, they last 10-20 mins as the brain chemistry does it's thing and when it's over I can move on with my day.

Another thing that might be at work is your brain trying to dump that extra emotion juice via your tears. It sucks, cause no one likes to feel like a crybaby, but purging those extra chemicals in your tears will make you feel better. I can't re-write society to have a better viewpoint on crying as acceptable, but I can at least coach myself that it's my brain trying to help, and that makes it easier to ride it out too. Ive stopped trying to fight my tears when I feel that emotional swell, excuse myself to a bathroom as soon as I'm able, and go cry it out. It's easier to stay level headed after that. Like my brain has a cool down period on tears :P

My last bit of advice is to pick your battles. I also avoid confrontation like it will literally kill me, so what I'm learning to do is "confront" my friends, folks I know will accept my boundaries when I state them. It's easier to practice that in a safe space, and it helps build the skills to do it in a more hostile conflict. I get sick to my stomach just thinking about asking my friends to give me what I need, but the positive feedback of having them listen and do what I've asked is building on itself. It's a work in progress, but I'm very grateful for the space to practice, as conflict was never something handled with grace in my house growing up.