#trauma is trauma and the mind will grasp anything that brings comfort to a traumatized mind | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

butwhatifidothis · 3 years

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Tumblr is starting to VERY MUCH dislike how long the other reblog chain is getting, so this will be Reblog Chain 2 of my jotting down notes of this fic. Here is the first reblog chain for Chapters 1-20

But it appears as though I was correct in sleeping off Chapter 20, because Chapter 21 is. Hm. bad. Very. Not good.

Chapter 21:

Transcript under the cut:

Chapter 21: It's Called Scars so it Gonna Be Ass

- To be blunt, the constant need to reaffirm that yes, Edelgard went through terrible experimentation and that yes, they were very horrific, is tiring. This is chapter 21. The experiments occurred in chapter 2. Every single chapter between now and then have, at some point, mentioned that INDEED, Edelgard DID in fact go through horrific trauma. It is tiring to the reader to constantly have to reread the same thing - we know it happened. We know it was terrible. There's no need to constantly say so; we already understand as readers.

- "Every time the spark of life broke through Byleth’s blank face, it brought a flickering hope to the Flame Emperor’s heart." ->

- Firstly: Awkward use of the Flame Emperor epithet (its usage is on and off with how appropriate its been - this is off).

- Secondly: Once again, Byleth's face was rarely if ever blank. She was never the Ashen Demon, as even the last chapter showcased. The author is mistaking reservation with emotionlessness, which is simply wrong

- "There had been so many empty days and nights, without friendship, love or joy. With nothing to hope for, except someday, the peace of the grave." -> Suicidal tendencies: another trait that Edelgard doesn't have... (strikes against canon: 89)

- ...but Dimitri does. Counter: 12

- "Dimitri, too, was troubled by the thought, grasping the side of his head and frowning. As the spasm passed, he turned to Edelgard and smiled warmly." -> It seems a little callous to so casually toss Dimitri's symptoms into his interactions with others when such things simply don't occur in the canon interactions. It's not impossible, or strictly against canon, but it does not feel natural; it's more as though the author is shining bright neon signs that say DIMITRI HAS MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES than a genuine attempt at writing Dimitri's mental health issues. This is not the first time this sort of seemingly thoughtless showcasing of symptoms has happened (Noted separately: Dimitri having drastic mood swings)

- "No, this world must be ruled by humans…not cruel gods who ignored the prayers of little girls." -> This statement follows Edelgard internally chastising the actions of not gods, but the Children of the Goddess. This is a weaselly attempt at dodging Edelgard's racist beliefs that Nabateans should not be allowed positions of power by shifting the belief to apply to miscellaneous gods instead. While not inaccurate per se - she does also canonically believe that gods should have no power in human affairs - it is not honest

- "Byleth nodded with childlike simplicity. “We should all try to get along.”" -> Again describing Byleth as childlike and/or innocent. Counter: 3

- For those curious: yes, the rat scene is implemented, yes it is sloppy, yes it is out of character for Claude - so much so that it is being noted separately - and yes it is forced to all hell

- What will be noted here, however, is that this is yet another instance of a man being demeaned/humiliated for the honor of a woman. See quote: "Byleth was on him in an instant, a tempest forming in the sea of her blue eyes. “That isn’t funny.” She crossed her arms sternly. “Jokes are about bringing people together...about making them smile. Right now, the only person laughing is you.”" with Claude reacting awkwardly. Once again, Man Bad Woman Good

- In a showcasing of a complete lack of self-awareness within the fic: "“Maybe if you’d have taught the Deer instead…but since you seem to have no ambitions outside of cleaning up Edelgard’s messes…”" -> This is Claude being portrayed as the bad guy, not the one being completely and utterly right

- " She slapped Edelgard on the back, and smiled heartily. “I agree, Dimitri!” Edelgard grimaced, trying to hide the fact her teacher had just struck the wound she had received during the mock battle." -> As well as where undoubtedly countless scars would be, yes? Scars that still cause Edelgard pain? In fact, Edelgard has been slapped on the back by Byleth and Jeralt numerous times before, and yet expresses no pain or discomfort.

- Another thing, that I had not noted though ought to have: Edelgard, a victim of sexual assault (in this fic), rarely seems to mind people touching her. She gets a little surprised if someone tries to get her attention with touch, yes, but Byleth's constant unprompted and random touching of Edelgard is never said to do anything but bring warmth and joy and comfort to Edelgard. It seems as though Edelgard suffering through sexual assault is just another source of trauma for the author to dump onto her for nothing more than pity points

- This is incredibly harsh to say, yes, and I would usually refrain from attributing such harshness onto a piece of text, but remember that Edelgard's scars only cause her pain when it's convenient, that she only experiences headaches when it's convenient, that she experiences PTSD episodes (when Claude mentions the rat) when it's convenient (note that in this fic he does it outside of battle, where her getting triggered wouldn't compromise her chances at victory). Edelgard not being touch averse and being a victim of sexual assault are not inherently something bad - survivors react to trauma differently, after all - but it is another in a steadily longer line of instances where Edelgard is simply given trauma for the sake of making her pitiable to the reader and the love interest, not something that Edelgard genuinely has to struggle with.

- "As Claude and Dimitri looked at their classmate expectantly, Edelgard was wracked with another bout of guilt. Deep in her soul, the princess knew these peaceful days would end soon. When that happened, no feast or vows of friendship could make up for the chaos and horror she would unleash. It would be better to pull away, close off her heart, rather than fuel the flames of her inevitable betrayal." -> Aka, "Feel bad for me, I feel guilty for planning to cause the death and ruination of countless innocents' lives all because I convinced myself that my way is the only way to get things done my way without ever actually trying to see if more peaceful ways could have worked. I'm going to orphan children, force families to fight each other, have the land be rampaged by banditry, and overall bring chaos onto these days that I ADMIT ARE PEACEFUL all because I feel that my way would be better. Wah wah pity me but I don't wanna be pitied I promise wah wah."

- "Byleth shrugged with a characteristic blend of innocence and spirit. “I guess I just like winning.” She began to blush and grabbed Edelgard’s hand. "It's so exciting! I’ve never had anyone other than Papa to celebrate with before!”" -> Byleth = innocent/childlike. Counter: 4

- The fic likes to reaffirm again and again that Byleth is "now" only acting like this due to Edelgard's presence in her life. Note also these statements written previously: "Every day, [Edelgard] was watching the person she loved grow and change. Become who she always was supposed to be." This, perhaps unintentionally, again enforces the "Lesbian Love is Pure and Innocent" trope; these wlw are only allowed to be their good girl, innocent selves - who they were always supposed to be - due to the pure lesbian love they have found with one another

- Count Bergliez didn't know of the experiments initially, but he eventually found out and did nothing to stop them, fleeing from a young and tortured El who was pleading for him to save her - Unnecessarily painting Count Bergliez as a spineless coward too afraid of Duke Aegir to save a child in pain

- Once again, a man fails to save a woman and further traumatizes her

- It should be noted that Bergliez is fearful not for his own life, but for that of his children, who were the ones Duke Aegir threatened. He, very similar to Ionius, cannot save Edelgard, except Bergliez (unlike Ionius) has a tangible, physical, explainable reason as to why he couldn't, and yet it is him who is painted as the bad guy, not Ionius. He is worthy of Edelgard's scorn and hatred, but Ionius only receives a begrudging feeling of betrayal from Edelgard that she feels guilty for harboring, even though he failed her far more than Bergliez failed her.

- "Daughters must always be loyal to their fathers" trope

- "No decent person thought the things Edelgard did. Just as her body had been twisted and shattered by the experiments, her mind bore terrible scars. Scars that the monster kept hidden, so she could walk in the world of men." -> Dehumanizing oneself as a monster as well as having violent thoughts (that specifically stem from trauma) one feels guilty for harboring are not traits Edelgard shows in canon... (strikes against canon, 90, 91)

- ...but Dimitri does. Counter: 13, 14

- "world of men?" Did the author perhaps mean "world of man," as in mankind? Keep note of

- The reason as to why Bergliez is said to have witnessed young El's tortured state and did nothing to help her is revealed: in canon, he dislikes her. It is blatantly and objectively said that he and Edelgard share a mutual displeasure in the other's company. What this fic had him do will be used as an excuse as to why he doesn't hate her, since no one is allowed to dislike Edelgard on the "good" side

- Edelgard, upon being asked if revenge is the reason she is doing what she's doing (reuniting Fodlan): "“No.” Edelgard put her hand to her chin thoughtfully. “I think for a long time, it was…but after a while, I realized that revenge wouldn’t satisfy me.” She looked at the blue sky above. “After you go through that much suffering…when you beg for help, day after day, and no one cares...you realize that nothing will ever truly make you feel safe again. The only thing I want is for this madness to end.”" -> This is internally inconsistent. See chapter 15 note: ""You know why they created me in the first place.” / “To reunite Fódlan,” spat Hubert. “It was all my father talked about.” / “And I will give it to them. "" This directly connects Edelgard's want to reunite Fodlan to the wants of her tormenters (as this states she is doing it out of spite). Note how Hubert spits at the idea of reuniting Fodlan, and how it was all his father - portrayed as a villain - talked about. This is not what this Edelgard wants, at least not of her own independent want. Earlier in this very chapter, Edelgard internally states a want to hurt Bergliez for leaving her behind. To say that she now no longer thinks vengeance would satisfy her, or that none of the reason that she is doing everything she does is out of a want for revenge, is ridiculous

- Edelgard to Bergliez, upon being asked what will happen to him and his family should Edelgard rise to power: "“All those who distinguish themselves will be rewarded. Given your history, I have little doubt you will be among them.” She nervously played with her white gloves. “All I ask is that when I seize back control of the throne, I can count on the military’s support.”" -> Yes, all who distinguish themselves to Edelgard, for Edelgard's cause, that Edelgard can see and/or know of. How likely is it that a poor farmer who is exceptional at fighting will actually be noticed by Edelgard and be given the credit he deserves, when others who may not be as meritable but do have some merit have the connections to show themselves directly in front of Edelgard? What means will Edelgard give the poor soldiers (that she or Byleth aren't already friends with, notably Dorothea and Leonie) that will allow them to be able to be seen by her and have their merits recognized? Edelgard is the one who says who gains power after all, so it is her they must prove themselves to, but how can they realistically do that?

- What about professions that are not immediately beneficial to Edelgard's cause, such as the arts? How will they fare in Edelgard's society, when their works and talents yield no tangible, objective results (such as, say, farming)?

- Something the fic will address?

- Edelgard does not nervously do anything in front of those she is trying to negotiate with in canon, not even Thales. Strikes against canon: 92

- "[Bergliez] could only laugh in response. “I think we’re going to get along rather well, my lady…and the other?”" -> Except Bergliez and Edelgard don't get along well, ever. Pre ts they are stated to dislike each other, which continues even onto post ts with Bergliez being the only noble Edelgard couldn't bring to heel. Strikes against canon: 93

- As predicted: No one is allowed to dislike Edelgard on the "good" side

- Literally forgot Hubert was with Edelgard and Bergliez lmao

- Ionius tried to consolidate power to be rid of the consort system due to his unending love for Anselma -> A ridiculous idea, plain and simple. Ionius was Emperor. If he wished to be rid of the consort system there was no need for him to try and take away all power from the other Imperial houses.

- If Ionius truly loved Anselma, why did he allow her to be exiled from the Empire? Why didn't he step in and use his influence as Emperor to help her?

- Edelgard, when she is Emperor - passed down a supposedly empty crown, at that - showcases the all-encompassing power the title of Emperor truly holds to one willing to use that power. That Ionius supposedly wanted to do all of these reforms and yet nothing at all was done, ever (save for ruining Houses Hrym and Ordelia, something even this fic has as canon), if Ionius did want to make these reforms, means that he was too spineless and cowardly to truly go through with trying to pass them. This again unintentionally showcases how awful a ruler and weak-willed a person Ionius was when he had power when trying to paint him in this righteous light.

- Lambert was stated to be trying to pass reforms before he died in canon, not Ionius. From parents to the children, the author is attributing traits from Lambert onto Ionius just as he (author's confirmed gender is male) attributes traits from Dimitri onto Edelgard

- " Her father and mother…she had thought their romance a fairy tale-a story from her father to make a motherless child feel valued. But…they truly had loved each other." -> Edelgard does believe Ionius when he told her of the story of when he and Anselma (supposedly) met each other. There is nothing to indicate that Edelgard thought it to be a lie: in fact, in canon: "But I choose to believe there was genuine love between them." Strikes against canon: 94

- It seems as though finally, after around 18 chapters, Edelgard's scars will finally cause her genuine inconvenience due to her complex about them as well as her trust issues. She has a gash on her back from the Battle of Eagle and Lion, but will not have it treated if Manuela isn't the healer, and yet the woman is occupied dealing with the rest of the students who were injured. How will this fic deal with this?

- Ingrid, referring to her and Sylvain: ""We just switched from Felix lecturing us all day to listening to Edelgard moralizing, didn’t we?"" -> The author is trying to compare a childhood friend whose friends have had years to get used to their barbed tongue to a stranger that directly insults the dreams of one of them. Something which Ingrid canonically hates having be done to her, even from Felix, a childhood friend. Once again, Ingrid being so casual about Edelgard being so disrespectful of her dreams is out of character. Strikes against canon: 95

- "Sylvain shook his head knowingly, ignoring Felix’s truly alarming scowl. “You should have seen his face, Edelgard. Dimitri would go on and on about this girl he met when he was a kid…and Felix would complain about her for hours!” He looked at Felix and smiled. “For all his whining about the “Boar,” nobody loves Dimitri more than him.”" -> Oh? A romantic gay male relationship presenting itself within the fic?

- Another vision of SS experienced by Edelgard. Word from a nameless guard: "The woman, Byleth, leading their forces... She’s not human! She killed half my battalion with one swing of that sword of hers. She didn’t speak, she didn’t shout, she didn’t even change her expression!” The panicked man was teetering on the edge of hysteria. “All those people rallying around her, and it’s like she doesn’t care at all. Like she's a walking corpse!"" -> Obviously saying that Byleth becomes the Ashen Demon if not allowed to be with Edelgard.

- Unintentional statement: Byleth can't be the pure innocent (lesbian) woman without Edelgard's (lesbian) love granting her purity, reverting her to a monstrous, corrupt demon incapable of humanity

- See chapter 20 note: "Implying that choosing SS - aka, choosing the Nabateans - makes Byleth less human. Intentional?" Confirmed to be intentional. Also false: in canon, even when accounting for CF's lesser chapter count, Byleth emotes far more on SS than on CF, which matches with CF having Edelgard call Byleth detached in their A support. Strikes against canon: 96

- The same nameless soldier, same context: "And those Faerghus kids…” / Edelgard leaned forward in her chair. “Ingrid…Sylvain…what of them?” / “They…they were animals. Screaming and ranting about revenge for the King.” -> Is the author really demonizing Sylvain and Ingrid for (potentially!) being mad at Edelgard for murdering one of their childhood friends? Is that really the depths the Edelgard worship will sink to, that friends becoming enraged at a friend's unjust murder from a warlord is being portrayed as something sad for the warlord? Just what else should Edelgard be pitied for?

- "The scared girl desperately tried to drown out the thoughts that reverberated incessantly. / They’re going to despise us…it’s destiny. And how could they not? If we were truly good, the Goddess would have saved us…protected us. But She didn’t. The Goddess took Mother. She took our family. And soon, She’ll take everything else we love. She hates us. / It’s what we deserve." - Now confirmed that Edelgard hears multiple voices in her head tormenting her. That trait that, once again, Edelgard does not have... (Strikes against canon: 97)

- ...but Dimitri does. This is the third time this chapter that this has happened, and far from the only chapter to display such baffling characterization of Edelgard via Dimitri's traits. It is nonsensical.

- " Why had [Edelgard] even been born at all? Nonexistence would have been preferable to watching every faint dream be dashed, to suffering alone over and over. She was just…so tired of being alive." -> Once. Again. Suicidal tendencies/thoughts is not a trait Edelgard shows in canon... (Strikes against canon: 98)

- ...but Dimitri does. The fourth! The fourth time in one chapter the author desperately wanted to just write Dimitri!

- If the fic wanted to take Edelgard in a different direction than canon does and has her display some of these traits, it would be more passable, but this fic is under the delusion that it is in any way following canon closely, especially in regards to Edelgard, and so this can only be seen as a desperate attempt from the author to have Edelgard be sympathetic by donning the skin of an actually sympathetic character such as Dimitri

- "Edelgard looked at herself in the mirror. The back of her academy uniform was stained red, the rhythmic, soft dripping of blood assaulting the princess’ ears." -> And no one commented on this? No one was worried? Not Ingrid, Sylvain, and Felix, who were sitting right by her? Not Lysithea, who saw her take the blow to her back and never get it healed? Not Dimitri, who delivered the blow? It just so happened that literally no one at all noticed this?

- Byleth literally slapped Edelgard on the back earlier? Wouldn't her hand come back red with blood if it were seeping through the uniform?

** The scene that follows the previous note is too long to quote, despite how truly terrible it is. Long quotes, even extremely long quotes, have been presented in these notes before, but the length this quotation would be if the full extent of it were written here would be a mess, and quite frankly, at that point it would do one better to simply go to the fanfiction itself and read the text from there. With the context received from these notes, if one wishes to see the words for themselves, go to chapter 21 of The Emperor and the Goddess, enter Ctrl + F (or Find in Page on mobile devices), and enter the phrase "Byleth crossed her arms, clearly frustrated" verbatim. The following note will not be quoting the entire scene from the fic (merely summarizing it), though context is needed to understand how truly bad the scene is. **

- To have hope in this fic performing anything correctly is proving to be a fool's dream, for it has yet to do anything right; that includes the aforementioned gash upon Edelgard's back. As stated, it did not draw the attention of those who were sitting around her nor did it draw the attention of the one who witnessed the injury itself, nor of the one who delivered the injury itself, so no one commented on the gaping, bleeding wound Edelgard was "hiding" from everyone as she turned her (bleeding) back to them and left for the baths to clean up (it must be heavily stressed: immediately after leaving it is revealed that the blood is seeping through her uniform). As she was washing - naked, of course - Byleth just so happened to step into the baths with only a towel wrapped around her "for modesty," much to the horror of Edelgard, for she does not want Byleth seeing her scarred body. A slight argument arises between the two over Edelgard getting her injuries checked, before Byleth warns Edelgard that she will go to Rhea and force her to go to the infirmary should Edelgard continue to refuse treatment, which drives Edelgard past the brink. She raises her arms from the bathwater and presents her scars (""Fine!... If you want to see so badly, here!""), to the horror of Byleth ("Byleth Eisner was not a woman given to strong emotional reactions, but she staggered back, hands over her mouth."). Edelgard cries in hysteria, fear of her beloved teacher running away in disgust over her ugly, mutilated body overwhelming her. But Byleth, childlike in her innocence, shared that she too is scarred in strange ways, and that she too is scared of failing those around her - that she has no ambitions save to help and protect those around her. Byleth reveals that it is Edelgard whom Byleth looks up to for always being so strong and always moving forward, and shows that without Edelgard Byleth wouldn't know how to handle the pressure everyone else puts on her. The exchange ends with Byleth reassuring Edelgard that she is beautiful and not the monster she thinks she is.

- There is no nice way of putting this: this is a classic example of how not to write someone opening up to another about something. Edelgard views herself as weak, ugly, repulsive, a monster, shameful, but it is Byleth's love and affection that gives her comfort and warmth, that gives her hope of something more. It forces Byleth to behave wildly out of character (the author can try to excuse this with "well she wouldn't normally behave like this!" all he wants, it doesn't matter when it goes against the base, canonical Byleth. Strikes against canon: 99) in order for Edelgard's scarred body to be seen as something that is repulsive, that is ugly, that is stained, so much so that the pure, childlike, innocent Byleth couldn't stand to see something so tainted. And yet it is that same pure, childlike, innocent Byleth's pure, innocent, childlike love that pushes away the pain of Edelgard's scars for just that moment. Other characters become suddenly blind and/or forgetful of Edelgard's obvious, bleeding wound so that it is Byleth who can be the one to save Edelgard with her pure, innocent, childlike presence and her pure, innocent, childlike uncertainty about her own insecurities (but only when it is convenient for Edelgard, as even Byleth didn't noticed the gaping, bleeding wound until she was alone with Edelgard where no one could interrupt their bonding moment). This scene is inorganic and forced, ham-fisting Edelgard and Byleth in the same room - the wash room, where both are either naked or nearly naked - so that Byleth is the one to find Edelgard, no one else. No one was worried enough about the sudden exit Edelgard took from the conversation she was having to follow her and make sure she was alright, and Byleth just so happened to enter the baths right after Edelgard. The scene is, to be frank, insulting.

- There have been a couple of joking references to a book titled Stones to Abigail in these notes, but in all seriousness, this scene plays unsettlingly similar to a scene in said book, where a scarred girl who is naked reveals her "ugly" and "revolting" scarred body to the love interest, who goes on to soothe and comfort the naked girl as best they can. The resemblance is uncanny

- Byleth described as childlike/innocent. Counter: 5

- Edelgard, in canon, never expresses feeling herself to be ugly, or repulsive, or a monster. Strikes against canon: 100

- Again, Edelgard's scars are only important when they are convenient - this time, in helping develop the romantic relationship between her and Byleth

- There are ways in which scars can be utilized without being problematic, but certainly not when this much focus is placed on them and yet they are only truly present when they cannot hinder Edelgard.

- Perhaps particularly insulting is this phrase from Edelgard: "Did she actually love Byleth at all, or just being saved by her?" Yes, Edelgard, you do simply want to be saved by Byleth, because that is precisely what the narrative has been drilling into the reader's heads ever since Byleth showed herself. Byleth is Edelgard's light, Byleth is Edelgard's hope, Byleth gives Edelgard back her humanity, Byleth is Edelgard's one source of joy, Byleth is Edelgard's entire life, and nothing, absolutely nothing in this fic has shown this to ever be a bad thing. This dependence on Byleth to bring Edelgard joy at the near complete expense of everyone else has been propped up as something romantic, and yet it's now, 21 chapters and over 85K+ words in, that we're supposed to believe that this was actually Edelgard being unhealthy? Even though the author himself said that this was what he enjoyed about their relationship, how much they found each other in each other? Even though we see what the author thinks would happen to the two of them should they separate - Edelgard, lonely and afraid without her beloved teach, and Byleth, the Ashen Demon who cares for nothing without her beloved student - in her visions of SS? This is a joke

- It cannot be overstated that Byleth came to the bathhouses completely independently of Edelgard. She did not come to specifically see her because she followed her out of worry for Edelgard due to her injury - she only knows that Edelgard's injured in the first place due to seeing bloody bandages that Edelgard removed in the bathhouse, before Byleth arrived.

- Author's notes: "On Bergliez, we find out very little in-game, but he 1) offers himself for execution so his men can go free in SS and 2) seems to be actually competent at his job. I thought a nuanced portrayal was more interesting, since I've been writing Aegir as the absolute worst person in the world." -> Note: this is what the author believes to be a nuanced take on someone. Someone who likes Edelgard entirely and does nearly whatever they can to help her, but they did one thing that's morally gray (leaving a child behind to save his own children from the same fate) that is portrayed as objectively bad, so now they are nuanced. While perhaps this sort of character would be truly nuanced in better hands, as it is with his actions being portrayed as something that is obviously so completely and utterly wrong and him someone who deserves complete and utter condemnation - and yet Ionius, who does far worse for far less understandable reasons, gets a comparative slap on the wrist - it causes confusion as to Edelgard's lines. Bergliez seeing her the one time and never helping her is enough for her to want to hurt him as she was hurt, but her father repeatedly coming to and "being forced" to watch her actively be tortured and doing nothing does little to invoke similar depths of resentment? Even granting the idea that "she gives more slack to her father," Ionius is objectively and far worse than Bergliez, down to doing hard things to protect their children, and yet it is only Bergliez who is shined in this unpleasant a light

- To be clear, Bergliez's decision was not a good one, but understandable. It is a gray decision to make. But notice how he is called "gray" and "nuanced" and yet Ionius is nearly completely innocent, as described by the author himself, despite their being no given explaination as to why "he was a figurehead" should be a good enough reason to wash him literally standing there and watching as his children - some of whom aren't even teens yet - get slowly tortured and killed.

- "There are many localization changes I understand (Byleth wanting to get drunk after the battle is one of them), but Treehouse's decision to remove Ionius' entire reason for power centralization (eliminating the consorts) was a big, big mistake." -> Given the history of this author's grasp on the Japanese language, this needs to be checked, as he cannot be trusted as a source as to whether this is true

******* Notes of Claude mischaracterization: Chapter 21, section 1, paragraphs 1, 21 & 23, 27 *******

#o captain my captain #is the Cap'n's name fuckin' Greg holy shit #this chapter was baaaaad #b-but hey maybe i'm just being overly critical?

67 notes · View notes

vs-redemption · 3 years

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Hi. Not sure if request are allowed (idk what I'm doing) but wondering if you could write something like aizawa finds out reader was sexually abused when they were younger...maybe comforts them and helps them through a panic attack? Holds them while they cry kinda stuff.. It would mean a lot to me (give me all the comfort...I need it 😫)

From Cindy: Hey anon. Requests are definitely allowed. I’m sorry it took me a while to get to this. I hope you are doing all right, and I hope you can get some comfort from this ♥

Dirty (Aizawa x Reader)

⚠️mentions of sexual abuse, Panic Attack, Hurt/Comfort ⚠️

Of all the decisions you’d made in your life, agreeing to go on a date with Shota Aizawa was turning out to be one of the better ones. Even after the awkward stiffness of the first few times going out disappeared, the man continued to be extremely gentle, patient, and kind. Many people looked for these exact traits in a partner, but they were even more important to you. With the experiences of your past like a constant shadow looming over you, even just convincing yourself to put yourself out there to try and meet new people was a difficult issue to overcome. So, finding a partner who could not only accept the fact that these traumatic things had happened to you but also help you move past them was even more unlikely.

Admittedly, you hadn’t shared the horrors from your younger years with your hero boyfriend yet, but you were starting to feel like you might be able to open up to him about it soon. The fear that he would lose interest in you and leave every time you shrugged off his affection had begun to ease away. He’d looked confused the first couple times you’d pushed him away, but not once had he looked annoyed or gotten angry. For a while, you had also worried that he would ask about your odd behavior, but that hadn’t happened yet either. Aizawa seemed to understand and respect your need for space and to move at a slower pace through the relationship.

“Today I will tell him.” You promise your reflection in the mirror one morning as you get ready for the day. Aizawa was scheduled to come over to have dinner with you after his patrol, and you thought it was as decent an opportunity as any to finally expose your dark secret.

You were feeling fairly confident about it until you turned on the TV right as the local newscaster launched into a story about a young child who’d apparently gone through a similar situation as yourself. As quickly as you can, you change the channel and try not to let the disturbing report trigger any of the memories that so often haunted you.

After convincing yourself that you’d be all right and that you just needed a distraction, you grab your keys and head to the supermarket to pick up the ingredients you’d need for dinner that evening. The harder you tried not to think about the child from the news though, the more it seemed to pop into your head. Soon, familiar images from your past began to consume your thoughts, making your stomach roll and skin itch uncomfortably.

“Dirty.” The word slips from your lips as you rush back home, avoiding the stares of people around you who you were convinced knew every single terrible detail of the memories currently rushing through your mind. You toss the groceries onto the ground once you make it back, more concerned with getting rid of the filthy feeling all over your body than putting the food away. You rush to the bathroom, eager to scrub every inch of yourself until the shame went away.

By the time Aizawa showed up, you felt more composed. You’d managed to put yourself back together after the shower and get all the groceries put away, hopefully leaving your boyfriend none the wiser about the rough day you’d had.

“Smells good in here,” He smiles as he comes in the door, slipping out of his shoes and tucking his feet into the pair of slippers you kept at the entrance for him. “Anything I can do to help?”

“N-no, I’ve got it.” You bite your bottom lip to try and keep your mind focused. The warmth and genuine kindness in his eyes made a wave of guilt wash over you, and your thoughts began to spiral. How long had you been with Aizawa now? How long had you been deceiving a good man? You shake your head, reminding yourself that you had every intention of telling him. Still, you couldn’t help but wonder if he deserved someone better than you… someone less… tainted. Without realizing, your hands had begun to shake and your breathing become labored.

“Hey, is everything all right?” Aizawa’s hand appears in front of you to take your hands into his but you rip out of his grasp and back away, hot tears finally springing forward and blurring your vision. The shock stays on his face for just a moment before morphing into concern as he whispers your name softly.

“No!” You shake your head. “You can’t. We can’t. I’m just… I’m sorry. You should be with … someone else. Someone better.” You were too upset to form coherent sentences, and Aizawa was clearly confused.

“What are you talking about?” He asks softly, “What brought this on?”

You couldn’t believe his patience and self-control. Why wasn’t he getting angry? You could see it in his posture that he was holding himself back from rushing over to you. Even now, he was giving you space and remaining calm. This wasn’t the way you wanted him to find out, but you found that you couldn’t keep the truth in any longer. With a choked sob, the truth spills from your lips. You explain as quickly as you can how your body had been violated against your will, and how that made you feel too disgusting to be with anyone, especially someone as good as him. Aizawa looked stunned as he took in your confession. Then, his eyes were also filling with tears as you told him sadly that you understood if he wanted to leave.

“I’m not leaving,” he states without hesitation, “not unless you tell me to.” Seeing you standing across the room with your shoulders hunched and shaking as you continued to cry was breaking his heart. “The only disgusting thing is the person who did those things to you.” He wipes the wetness from his own cheeks before taking a hesitant step forward. “Please, can I hold you?”

The nagging self-doubt was still in the back of your head, but you still manage to force your feet to shuffle forward until you’re close enough for Aizawa to pull you firmly into his arms and safely against his chest. “I’m so sorry that happened to you,” He murmurs softly while letting his hand rub slow circles on your back to try and calm you down. “And I would never leave you over something that wasn’t your fault.” The comforting words bring about a fresh wave of tears and you wrap your arms around his waist, fingers fisting into his shirt to keep him close. You stay embraced for a few minutes as your breathing calms down and you start to relax, Aizawa telling you how strong and brave you are the whole time.

“T-the food,” you mutter as the timer on the stove goes off. Reluctantly you pull away and turn to grab some oven mitts, but your hands are still shaking.

“Let me,” Aizawa offers and you let him take the dish from the oven and set it on the counter. Before you can say another word, he pulls you back into his arms and you let out a teary laugh.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you all this sooner,” you nuzzle your face into his chest. “I just… I just couldn’t.”

“It’s okay,” Aizawa shakes his head. “You don’t have to be sorry about that. Please tell me I never did anything to make you uncomfortable.”

“No, you’re perfect.” You look up and smile at him so he knows how honest you’re being. “More than perfect.”

“I hope you know I feel the same way about you,” He says seriously.

“Even now?” You can’t help but ask.

“Even now.” He confirms with a nod of his head.

The confidence of his answer caused that small hope in your chest to bloom into true happiness. For so long, you’d hoped to find someone you were not only comfortable enough with to divulge the trauma of your past, but also someone you could trust enough to join in your journey of self-healing. Aizawa seemed to fit every category and then some with flying colors. Agreeing to go on that first date with him had definitely been one of the best decisions of your life.

#Aizawa x Reader #shouta aizawa x reader #Bnha x reader #mha x reader #Shota Aizawa #Bnha #mha #Cindy's Writing

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everything-laito · 3 years

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Hypersexuality and Laito Sakamaki (UPDATED)

Hiya guys! Been a long ass time since I’ve made a post like this, I’ve been getting so much ask box activity + had school so I haven’t had the time to make an original post! This has been something I wanted to write for a while, and not only was I busy with school, but this one hits home hard to me personally, so I was going back and forth for a bit writing it. But I think I’m ready :)

I know there’s kind of a general consensus that anything DL related comes along with a trigger warning whether stated or not, but just a TW considering I’ll be talking about some real life experiences; not in depth or detail of course, but just mentions of it :) Not only is this a Laito analysis but it’s also an educational tool to help other people know about this!

So, without further ado, rant under the cut!

Hypersexuality is something that many sexual assault/harassment and rape survivors experience after the abuse. People associate asexuality or sexual repulsion as the only (or common) psychological affect after experiencing those situations. However, there is another affect that can happen, and it is more common than people think, and aforementioned, it’s hypersexuality. It’s basically having more sexual feeling and urges after the experience, in order to cope with the nonconsensual one. And it’s exactly what Laito experienced after Cordelia’s abuse.

I’ve also experienced something like this. I don’t believe I’ve experienced it in full swing, but definitely something like it. I haven’t been raped thankfully, but I have been sexually harassed/assaulted before a handful of times. I know I’ve briefly mentioned that in other analyses, but I’m just explicitly stating it here.

I first learned about hypersexuality this year actually, and my Laito nerd brain was like “holy shit that’s the name of what Laito is going through.” Then I was like “oh fuck I’ve gone through that a little bit too.” I thought going along with would help me “heal” myself, and it really was doing the opposite. (UPDATE: realized that what I thought was a lot of sexual trauma/hypersexuality was mostly compulsory heterosexuality (but still with those dabbled in too—quite a terrible combo) because last month I realized I’m not attracted to men! Although those experiences I mentioned did mess me up a bit, realizing this is a huge step in the right direction for my own mental well being. Just had to make this correction on my part, since the original post had more emotional investment than I would have liked it to :))

Like I have said in my little update, I realized I was going through mostly compulsory heterosexuality while also going through some minor sexual trauma/hypersexuality. Although again, I have not had it as bad as Laito has or other sexual assault survivors (which I am grateful for that), I still have a personal grasp of coping mechanisms with traumatic experiences or experiences I did not particularly enjoy. (If you are interested in learning more about compulsory heterosexuality, feel free to send me an ask! I just don’t feel that it’s appropriate to talk about it in regards to Laito or make a post about it, since it doesn’t relate to him)

And that’s probably also why I can resonate with Laito so much, at least on that scale, and even if I experienced a grain of what he’s going through. I know he’s fictional but these are definitely real experiences and real feelings.

Laito’s case is a bit different than just feeling overtly sexual. Although he’s trying to heal himself through sex and other intimate actions, he’s also doing it as a type of revenge. He doesn’t like purity, and in fact, he’s quite jealous of it. I’ve heard this is also a pretty human way of coping with this type of abuse, and it is why I love Yui as a character. She’s incredibly strong and sets an example for Laito. This makes Laito jealous yet entertained by her, and that’s also a reason why he probably keeps her around. He also attempts to use Yui as a vessel to avenge his own feelings (even not knowing about Cordelia being in her at first). I personally wasn’t like that, but given the circumstances, there’s definitely people who are. Laito’s character can be so human to me sometimes, its astonishing, despite him being a character, a vampire, and just generally does some wacky or terrible shit.

You could say his hypersexuality could also be similar to typical Pavlovian Conditioning. You’ve probably heard of the whole experiment of training (conditioning) a dog to expect food when they hear a certain sound and thus, his mouth waters. We’re conditioned by a lot of things in our lives, from triggering a “flight or fight” response from this specific ringtone or high school bell. It’s just a built in “routine” our minds utilize to process pattern recognition. I know I say this a lot, but we don’t know how vampire brains in the DL universe compare to human brains (and quite frank, I don’t think we will), so I will just do my typical human brain picking.

In Laito’s case, he was conditioned to “love” Cordelia in a fashion that was incredibly gross. No, I won’t sugar coat it. In my Cordelia/Laito analysis, I talk about how Laito was probably groomed. Grooming is another type of conditioning. Although I don’t believe his grooming was sexual, it definitely “prepares” the victim to be exploited in that fashion later on. It’s to build a false sense of trust to be betrayed. Later on, when Cordelia started having sex with Laito, he became used to it in a “conditioned” fashion. When someone said that Cordelia was calling him, he knew what it was. He also thought it’s what he wanted, even though he knew that he didn’t. I believe I have referenced his MB Dark Prologue monologue before, but not this part of it. Here’s the monologue:

――Who is it that I give my love to? Throwing myself away, I caught the sight of someone Someone I didn’t recognize, Suddenly, I realized I was looking into a mirror. The mirror reflected myself within it. I couldn’t see anything else. I am disgraceful for this greed. I was wearing a visage. What I wanted, certainly was love. It’s not that easy. Because of these words, I suffer. No matter how many times love is said, The only thing that will be important to me, Is only the physical contact and body.

I know I've said it in the Laito/Cordelia analysis, but Laito is visibly confused in his flashbacks. He’s trying to grasp what love is, but then convinces himself that love is physical contact, and not emotional connection, especially near the end. He knows he’s suffering but he is still conditioned to think like this. Same case for people who suffer from hypersexuality.

Although many people do not know why it occurs, it can be a symptom or “side effect” from disorders, medication, and the like. In the sexual trauma case, I believe a main reason is that the person utilizes sex to cope with trauma, or because they are used to sexual acts being forced upon them. That’s where conditioning still comes in. He’s treated as one of her suitors, lovers, or the like. Even as a stand-in for Richter and Karlheinz. He doesn’t consider Cordelia to be his mom until the DF Vampire ending. On top of him not receiving emotional gratification which leads to all sorts of just awful stuff for him, sexual attention is the only type that he receives until Yui comes along. He is used to not having emotional support or connections, which is why physical contact is what he is more “comfortable” with, while at the end of the day it still does not satisfy him.

It creates a positive feedback loop of him being unsatisfied, while being confused about where he’s unsatisfied in, leading to him trying to “fix” himself or avoid his own personal, emotional problems through lust and sex, but then still finding himself not “healing.” Then the cycle continues, enthusing his hyper sexual behavior even more.

I was sent some great articles from @souchiika on the DL discord (thank you so much!) and one of the articles stood out to me, since I did not talk about this type of topic on this blog yet. Here’s the link to the article, and here’s the quote that stood out to me!

Furthermore, indirect effects were also statistically significant, providing support to the hypothesis that depression and guilt would be serial mediators of trauma-hypersexual behavior relations. The paths through depression and guilt have been found to be the most significant with moderate and high indirect effects on hypersexuality. Moreover, male gender, as covariate variable, is a relevant risk factor for hypersexual behavior.

Hypersexuality is something that is still being researched like I mentioned earlier, but since these findings came out, it definitely makes sense in Laito’s case (and in general). Like I said, Laito does feel unsatisfied and even shameful of his actions, which is more apparent in the beginning of his and Cordelia’s “relationship.” In those flashbacks, he asks himself if this is what he really wants, and although he attempts to force himself to like these actions as a coping mechanism, there is still a relative degree of shame and guilt he has. It is also apparent nearing his DF Ecstacy ending when he finds out that Karlheinz foresaw Cordelia having sex with him, and even wanted it to happen. All that shame and guilt came bellowing out while he was in a fit of distress. In initial attempts to mediate this guilt and shame, he projected his feelings onto other women through sexual acts, leading to more of this hypersexual loop. I know I talk about Laito projecting a lot, but it is frequent in his character. Like I’ve always said, it’s typical “bully” power dynamic manipulation. If Laito can bring a victim of his down to his level, then he feels better about himself (but it satisfies him for only a short while, until Yui in MB+).

Also, note that this is no excuse or justification for him to rape or sexually assault others. It is merely an explanation as to why he does it (as for my posts in general, it’s not a justification, it’s an explanation).

Another reminder that rape and sexual assault isn’t about the sexual urges, but about power. That’s why anybody with any background can do it, given the circumstances.

This post was a bit hard for me to write, so I apologize if I got too overtly personal for your liking. Like I’ve said in the past, I’m not writing this to gain sympathy too, and sure that sounds superficial of me to say now (although I truly mean it), I just want to use my platform as an educational tool. Sorry about the change in my typical tone :)

Sorry if this was too much of a doozy, I really wanted to talk about it and to educate people, despite it being a bit personal. I just felt like the most effective way was to convey how real this topic is, despite this fandom knowing about it in a fictional setting.

I hope you have a great day! -Corn

#analysis #laito sakamaki #sakamaki laito #corn gets personal #sakamaki raito #raito sakamaki #diabolik lovers #dialover #dialovers #dl

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icharchivist · 3 years

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i mean i know why it happened but it still makes me feel SO MUCH that Percival is the only brother who didn’t go off the rails. He’s the only of them who clang to the good memories, to his sanity, to a better future, to his promises. His reaction to his trauma and grief was basically “I don’t want it to ever happen to anyone else again, so i want to build a better world and be strong enough to protect it”. And no doubt it’s hard! everyday he gets reminded that the path he took should come with sacrifice! but he doesn’t want to give up. He doesn’t want to sacrifice anything other than himself, his strength, his health, which i have iSSUES WITH but that i admire completely. He promised he’d hold on to his kindness, that he wouldn’t hold grudge, and he did!!

And it’s all while being the youngest.

and it’s to argue that the reason the other two went off the rails was also because of how they had to take responsibility for it.

Percival was powerless back then. He was too young, there’s nothing he could have done, the only thing he could do was bring comfort to his mother in her dying moment.

the others two were young teens but they were already burdened with responsibility. Aglovale was supposed already to understand the political context that led to this, and tried to hold this political power in his plight for the thieves to help them to no avail. The politics he was trained with yet still too immature to fully grasp failed him, so for him, no one could be trusted anymore. Lamorak was so carefree and relaxed back then, often neglecting his magic, and he wasn’t able to heal his mother. I remain convinced that this must be what fucked him up. His magic failed him and he had no one else to blame but himself, and the people who made this happen. But Percival had nothing but his compassion to give, and he knows he managed to give comfort to his mother in her last moment. His compassion *didn’t* fail him.

All three of them have walked further down this path that was laid in front of them after that day. They became stronger, rougher around the edges ect.

but i have no doubt that this specific responsibility that was weighing on Aglovale and Lamorak make it so much harder for them to cope with what happened.

But nowadays with Percival being the most stable of the three, we are coming to a situation where Percival is set in a situation to have to also cope with the way his brothers mishandled their trauma.

Obviously we still need to wait and see for Lamorak’s specifics, and hopefully Aglovale this time will be there by Percival’s side as they have to deal with this issue.

But the entire arc Percival had to go through to stop Aglovale way back when, going through intense physical and psychological harm inflicted to him by his own brother, understanding where Aglovale’s pain was coming from, able to relate, but having dealt with his pain his own way already.... Suddenly having to deal with the way the pain manifested in his brother.

and there’s something so sad to me about this specific storyline, which always make me come back for it i think.

the brothers had to deal with the same trauma, and they coped in different ways because of the parts they played in said trauma, and their age. But it remained the same trauma. And while Percival was allowed to cope in a more healthy way than his brothers, now he is also in a situation where he has to cope with the aftermath of how his brothers are mishandling their trauma. He has to cope with the way they decide to hurt people, to cause the very thing that led to their mother’s death with the wars they wage in. He is the one who had to fix Aglovale’s mess, and will probably have to fix Lamorak’s as well.

So Percival ends up having to carry his brothers’s grief on his shoulders as well, he has to relive his trauma and suffers through added harms that by all account should be traumatic in all brand new ways because of the way his brothers are suffering.

and it’s not exactly like Aglovale, the only one who’s storyline is solved about it, ever did that much? I feel like Aglovale is still feeling guilty for what he has done aND HE BETTER, and is now trying to connect back with his younger brother like nothing happened, and perhaps it’s for the best this way - i feel like both would struggle to really come to term with all of this. But it’s not like we’ve ever seen them discuss their trauma ever since, and as a result it’s not like Aglovale ever acknowledged the way this trauma and the consequential actions Aglovale took affected Percival. Aglovale had internal monologues talking about how he wants to atone, but he doesn’t even want to acknowledge aloud that he’s not an evil person anymore lmao he’s just lucky Percival understands him truly.

and i know i can’t expect a really polished approach on this specific sort of dynamic in a gacha with hundreds of characters but

i genuinely can’t stop thinking about it? and that’s why the Wales brothers are always on my mind, i always end up coming back thinking about them.

they were just kids who had to cope with the most horrible incident of their lives by hurting each others into adulthood and trying to figure out where that left them.

So yeah i have. so many thoughts and especially even more for Lamorak when it’ll come to it... it’s why i’ve been wanting for Lamorak to come back ever since i read BFAF and that i lost my mind when one year later he finally appeared in the story (which was one year for me but i can’t even imagine how it was for long time fans since it took what, 3, 4 years,????? before him being mentioned again).

but sighs

*touches water* please granblue can next year be the wales drama please i’d give anything for it

#ichablogging gbf #ichablogging 4kishi #so yeah i'mm back in my percival loving mode #sorry if you already experienced that a year ago and therefore i am just repeating myself #but - many thoughts

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rjhpandapaws · 3 years

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Something Familiar

Chapter 1: Conditional Exchange

Sharing his house with someone else after years of living alone took some getting used to. And while he was a horrible patient, Silas was a great housemate. Daniel didn’t know how much of that came naturally to Silas, and how much of it was his fear of getting kicked out. He’d done enough prying already so he wasn’t all that inclined to ask. That and Silas has only just started talking to him after they had made their contract. The contract was a simple thing; Daniel would provide healing and a place to stay in exchange for magic. The conditions were that Silas remain in an animal form whenever Daniel had company or patients; and Daniel couldn’t alter Silas’s consciousness or state of awareness without explicit permission to do so. It was a small thing and Silas still hadn’t spoken to him anymore than what was strictly necessary for three and a half months. Of course things had come to a head eventually because Daniel had never been one to mind his own business. In a fight that he had ultimately caused, he learned a whole lot more about what Silas had been through than he had ever thought he would be allowed to know. Exactly how many traumatic things their contract had brought back to the fore front of his mind. It had made Daniel feel sick and he had done what he could to make it up to Silas. Which amounted to leaving the house for a little over a week so Silas could have room to breathe.

Understandably, things changed after that. Daniel learned to tread more carefully around Silas and made more of an effort to learn about his situation. It was admittedly something he should have done before they made the contract. It was too late to change anything though, as it had already been drawn up and sealed. They still agreed to new unspoken rules and began to live more like housemates than contracted partners. He spent a lot of time teaching Silas about the things he had missed. Silas taught him long forgotten healing magic and a few secrets that had been lost when the shapeshifter settlements had been destroyed. They used very little magic and almost felt like cheating compared to what he was used to. Daniel was tentative to call them friends, but at the very least they were no longer strangers in the same space. Silas often had horrible nightmares. Daniel was woken up pretty often to his cries of fear or pain, and on some occasions screaming. Though the nights those dreams didn’t wake Silas were the ones that worried him most. In the morning he would find Silas on the balcony watching the sunrise with tea or coffee in his hands, still steaming but long forgotten all the same. Some days he would be crying silently, and some days he would be blank and neutral; but there was always this hollow distance darkening his eyes.

As soon as he woke up Daniel knew he would find Silas on the balcony. The night had been a quiet one with no screaming and no tears. Which meant whatever had chosen to haunt him would be doing so in his waking hours instead. Daniel wished almost desperately that there was something he could do to help, but Silas never answered him when he offered. He would just look at him with that dark oppressive distance in his eyes. So lost to whatever memories that had chosen to torture him that Daniel was unable to reach him. He took his time to get out of bed and ready for the day. Silas wouldn’t be ready to talk for a while, and it didn’t matter when Daniel came up to check on him. Despite knowing that it wouldn’t be eaten until it had long gone cold if at all he still made Silas breakfast. Though he had gained some of it back, Silas was still concerningly underweight. Daniel made his way up to the balcony with the try. There Silas stood. As close to the edge of the balcony as he could get with the railing in his way. There were trying tear tracks on his cheeks and the steam of his coffee was curling away into the morning light. He always used the same mug. A pale nondescript thing that he had found in the back of one of Daniel’s cabinets. The difference today was that the distance in his eyes was somehow darker, and he held the mug in a white knuckle grip.

Whatever was after him this morning had to be particularly painful. As it always did, Daniel’s curiosity weighed heavily on him. He knew better than to ask though. Silas never answered him when he was like this. Which is exactly why Daniel nearly jumped out of his skin when he spoke. “There were three of us you know.” His voice was flat as he spoke. There was no emotion to it, not even pain. His grip tightened on the coffee cup and Daniel feared it might break. Silas didn’t seem to notice, “That made it out. Me and then two of my brothers. I lost them in our mad dash to get out, and now I don’t even know if they are alive.” He blinked and fresh tears rolled down his cheeks, “After everything we had been through I couldn’t be bothered to stay. I ran like a fucking coward and sold myself out in a desperate bid to survive. Some fucking brother I am.” For all his wishing that Silas would speak his mind, Daniel didn’t actually know how to respond now that he knew. Saying that he was sorry felt hollow and fake, and not to mention it was too little way too late. He couldn’t really relate; he and Simon had parted ways amicably. Daniel set the tray down and tried to gather his thoughts. Figure out a way to bring Silas some long overdue comfort. If there was even a way to soothe such deep regret.

He was out of his depth and grasping at straws at this point. “In a few weeks you’ll be healed enough to safely handle mildly strenuous activity. We could go looking for them if you would like.” “Why? So you can add them to your collection?” Came the sharp reply. Angry and emotionless at the same time, “So you can have a complete set of the last shapeshifters known to man?” “No.” Daniel said firmly, “So you can have some damn closure and a place to go once this contract is up. I actually want you to be safe believe it or not.” There was a long rather uncomfortable silence as Silas came back from whatever distant place in his mind that held him. His shoulders slumped as he came into the posture of a man defeated by his own thoughts. He set the mug down on the table beside the tray and Daniel saw the start of a crack. He would have to mend it one of these days so Silas could keep using it. “I’m sorry.” Silas said eventually. “You have been nothing but kind to me, and yet I still fear completely offering you my trust. You may very well be the only human with my best interests at heart and I keep pushing you away.” He finally turned to face Daniel and there was a deep sadness to his eyes, grief hung over him, “I'll think about it but that is asking a lot of faith from me; and for now I think I would rather be alone.”

“I understand.” Daniel kept his voice level though it took him a lot of effort, “I’ll be in the house if you need me.” Silas gave an absent nod and Daniel went back inside. Perhaps he shouldn’t have offered at all. Looking back, it did seem like he had malicious intent in that. He hadn’t meant it that way of course, but all of the humans Silas had ever met had been unspeakably cruel to him. Daniel should have been more careful with his words, or just kept the idea to himself. It was too late now of course, it was out there now and there was no taking it back no matter how badly he wanted to. He set about cleaning the house to keep himself occupied. He wasn’t expecting any patients today, so barring an emergency, all he had to keep his mind busy was cleaning an research. Had he been feeling particularly ambitious, he might have started on a travel plan; but he didn’t want it to seem like he was trying to push Silas toward an answer. He sighed quietly, “Good to know I still have a knack for getting in over my head when it comes to trying to help. Some things never change I suppose.” It was just his nature to be overly concerned for those around him to the point of being an annoyance it seemed.

The afternoon was slowly turning to evening by the time Silas was ready to be around him again. He didn’t say a word though. Just walked into the kitchen and began to clean his dishes. Daniel was at the table going over his medical books and making a list of things he would need to pick up the next time he went into town. He was glad to see Silas had at least eaten something while he battled with his thoughts. Silas seemed a little more composed now at the very least. That made him feel a little better, even if it didn’t shake off his guilt. “I’m sorry Silas.” He eventually said, “For this morning. It was insensitive and out of line.” Silas laughed and the sound was dry and humorless. It was an unpleasant shock to Daniel. He had never heard Silas laugh and this was definitely not the context he had wanted to hear it in. “Was it?” He asked sharply, “Are you rescinding your offer to help me find my only remaining relatives then?” “Well no.” Daniel started. “I just - I wanted you to know that I meant no offense by it. I feel like I’ve messed something up, and I want to know how to fix it.” He sighed quietly, “I hate seeing you so upset.”

Silas deflated some and that same posture of defeat returned, “It’s a matter of learning to trust you. My entire life so far has been spent fearing humans. I just have to keep in mind that you haven’t posed any danger to me yet.” He looked down, “I’m sorry for being so... defensive, I guess would be the word for it.” “You’re alright.” Daniel said gently, “These things take time. Even at that you have a lot of trauma to work through and - “ “Daniel stop.” Silas cut him off, “I need someone to listen to me not psychoanalysis. Believe me, I am well aware of my trauma and the power imbalance of our dynamic. I don’t need a reminder.” “Right.” He replied, “It can be hard to turn my doctor off sometimes.” “I understand. It’s the only way people will acknowledge you so it has become your primary mode of existing.” He said, apparently he was out for Daniel’s soul today, “You’re more than that to me you know. You’re the closest thing I’ve had to a friend actually.” “First of all ow. Secondly, what happened to not psychoanalyzing one another?” He replied with a laugh, “I’m glad you almost think of me as a friend.”

Silas smiled and Daniel was pretty sure it was the first real smile he had ever seen from him. “I figured that you’ve done it to me enough times that I deserved a turn.” “Fair enough.” Daniel began to pick up his books and put them away. His list was as complete as it was going to get until he ran inventory. “How many weeks?” Silas asked after a long stretch of silence, “Until we can leave?” Daniel paused for a moment as he thought about it, “Six if you mind your limitations; eight to twelve if you keep ignoring them.” Silas frowned, “That was a lot more than I was hoping.” “You’ve been stubborn.” He remarked, “Agitating old injuries and coming away from your little excursions with new ones. You need rest.” “Fine.” He said as he looked toward the bookshelf, “I’ll be a better patient from here on out. Six weeks to look for a place to start should be enough.” Daniel smiled, “Of course it will.” Silas nodded his agreement and retreated back into his thoughts. He took traveler’s guides and the few maps Daniel had then settled on his bed to look them over. Daniel started to run inventory of his supplies and started on a list of traveling provisions. They would have to be ready for anything. Daniel had never traveled farther than the town after finding his place here; and the world had changed a lot since Silas had been in it last. They were venturing out into the unknown.

#Something Familiar #SF AU #daniel60 #dbh daniel #dbh sixty #fantasy au #dbh fic #dbh #mental health tw #ptsd tw

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trashytoastboi · 4 years

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Hiii, if you're open for asks, I'd like a version of Law, Zoro, Marco and Katakuri with a s/o that is kinda scared of getting intimate bc they were traumatized, and also continued being sweet to everyone even after what they've been through, if there's not a problem? Thanks anyway ❤️❤️❤️

Heyya! Of course~ hope you don't mind a bit of angst 🍀 hope you enjoy~

Askbox: Currently open

(Gender Neutral)

Headcanons: Law, Zoro, Marco and Katakuri with a kind S/O who is afraid of being intimate due to past trauma.

Warning: Trauma, implied abuse

Trafalgar Law

🍄From the time when Law first met {Name}, until the moment they officially got together, he had always been attracted and drawn to their kind nature. Just how wonderful and genuine they were, how sweet {Name} was to the people around them.

🍄Despite all the light and love {Name} seemed to bring with them, it felt as if something was hanging over {Name}, and though they would be right next to him, Law couldn’t help but feel that sometimes they were far away, almost distant, in a way it made Law sad. {Name} always had so much love to give, but refused to allow themselves any.

🍄Law found himself thinking and feeling curious as to what could have happened, but he would never pressure them into talking about it, though Law made it known that he is always there for them, especially when {Name} felt ready to talk about it.

🍄Law would gently test the boundaries, just to establish what {Name} would be comfortable with, and this was his way of making sure he would never accidentally remind them of something, especially knowing that {Name} would force themselves to talk about it, even if they weren’t ready for it.

🍄Law loves {Name} unconditionally, and hates the thought of knowing that something bad happen to his S/O, something which left them withdrawn and afraid, Law wishes he could take away any and all their bad memories and any pain that may have been caused by it. But more than anything, he loves them for who they are, regardless of their past. He wishes to learn more about {Name}, heal them and grow with them.

Roronoa Zoro

⚔Zoro was not considered to be the best at being able to pick on things such as subtle gestures or underlying notions in the way people acted or spoke. Though in {Name’s} case, Zoro could always see that they were kind and it was a honest, genuine nature, but he couldn’t help but notice that {Name} was kind, sometimes, too kind, to the point of their own detriment.

⚔He always loved spending time with {Name}, sometimes there were little things he would notice during the time spent together and it would upset him, knowing that someone had hurt them. The very person he just wants to protect.

⚔Zoro loved affection, especially with {Name} he was a very affectionate person, however would never push them beyond what they were comfortable with, and would wait for {Name} to initiate things first and with this he had great patience and reassured {Name} that he was happy with them.

⚔On the other hand, an uncommon occurrence would be the build up of a lot of insecurity, fear and the grasps of trauma reeling them back into that state of mind, this led to {Name} being easily overwhelmed by little things and with fear of being a burden along with all their built up insecurity they would try to push Zoro away. While being supportive he would give {Name} their space, but also comfort and reassurance, convince them that he would not hurt them nor leave them.

⚔Zoro loves {Name} wholeheartedly, no matter happened and he will always be there to support them. In fact his ‘air headed’ nature seemed to be a comfort for {Name}, though Zoro was aware of things, he would stay in that state of ‘ignorance’ for their comfort, until they decided it was the right time to tell him everything.

Marco the Pineapple…(The Phoenix)

🍍His observations became more than just interest and piqued curiosity, he decided that he absolutely needed to know more and get closer to {Name}. Upon finally being able to get closer, due to their lovely and sweet nature, he noticed that despite all the good things they exuded, there was a wall that seemed to separate themselves from people.

🍍Marco was very observant and was able to pick up things...knowing enough not to ask {Name} about certain things and what not to do around them. It was not blatantly obvious to those around {Name}, but he knew enough to infer more or less what could have occurred.

🍍Marco is always around {Name} to provide a reassuring presence, in his very ‘subtle’ ways, he is constantly opening up a comfortable path to conversation without pushing the boundaries too far. He wishes for them to feel absolutely secure, should they confide in him about anything. Marco is there to listen, and move forward with them.

🍍He has found many alternative ways of loving them without having to put {Name} in any sort of discomfort, and the way he can go from doting, to romantic, to even a bit of a goofball – always provides {Name} with a sense of happiness around him.

🍍He could tell when they were having a hard day, where thoughts were running a bit too rampant and would generally be extra attentive to their mental and physical wellbeing, this very caring and gentle side of Marco made {Name} feel incredibly safe around him, enough to let their guard down a little.

Charlotte Katakuri

🍩Somehow Katakuri had found himself growing quickly attached to {Name} and even felt some strange sense of urgency and fierce need to protect them. (And is in fact, incredibly over protective of them which is extremely unusual to anyone besides his siblings and mother)

🍩Katakuri was a bit clumsy with his words, especially around {Name} since he harboured a slightly different feeling towards them (this being the fact that he loved them) – due to this he couldn’t ‘strategically’ say things that had different meanings and would say what he wanted directly to avoid any misunderstanding. – This sometimes extended to asking questions {Name} found difficult to answer, though if that was the case, Katakuri would often apologise and drop the question for the time being.

🍩Absolutely adores his S/O’s sweetness and tender nature, especially towards him and his family. (Everybody loves {Name}) even though he was the only one who ever noticed something else.

🍩Katakuri isn’t too sure of their limitations and so he constantly asks if they are alright, if they don’t mind what he is doing or if he is making them uncomfortable. – This extends to when he hugs them, tries to hold their hand and other displays of affection. {Name} actually loves this and finds it very heartwarming

🍩Katakuri has always greatly expressed how much he loves {Name} as well as reassuring that waiting is no issue. Admitting that for them he has endless patience and love.

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ceoofuwu · 3 years

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𝐈𝐂𝐘 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ;; 𝘥𝘢𝘣𝘪 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 𝟏.𝟒𝐤

𝐀/𝐍: So, FINALLY I finished this piece and I’m so happy bc it took nearly a month AHAHAHAA (I know I’m terrible) AnYwAy, I think Dabi is “sweet but a psycho”? (yeah sweet inside VERY DEEP DOWN) and... inspired by this... here you go, everyone! <333 Lots of love, stay safe, positive and hydrated!!!

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: As long as you had discovered that place, everything was great. But, at the end of the day, you weren’t the only one to have made that discovery....

𝐓.𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: hurt/comfort

Tranquility.

Gentle breezes swirling around, fiddling with light hair, caressing an innocent face. Soft moonlight showering the concealed glade, eventually lighting up the night sky.

Serenity.

A reflection of the star-kissed canvas above depicted on the frozen surface before you. The sight seemed to have been plucked out of a fairy tale. Until that moment, not even the thought of a frozen lake serving as a prism to the infinitude of the stars had crossed your naïve mind.

This small fragment of Heaven had been a recent discovery of yours. In need of a break, a relief from all the duties chasing after you in the League, a walk was the least you could ask.

Yet, who could have possibly foreseen the blessing you’d come across?

Wandering around there, watching miracles unfolding before your eyes…. That was by far the most tranquilizing activity you had engaged yourself in.

Complete and utter silence, the moon shining upon this otherworldly scenery in its full glory and merely the humble sounds of nature dolling this fantasy up. The most mesmerizing trait though, was the lake made of ice, which looked exactly like a crystal mirror projecting the star-blown sky. Its glossy transparency was little by little dazing you into attempting to walk on it.

Well, not that you could blame yourself. You’d always hear people commenting on how amazing the experience was. Besides, you couldn’t help but imagine how mind-blowing it would be to see the stars, those unreachable sparkles of light, under your feet.

Curiosity urged you to take a step farther and bring your delicate body in the edge of the lake.

Would it be slippery? Icy? Smooth maybe?

You wouldn’t know unless you tried.

You outstretched your leg quite hesitantly, with a surge of doubt washing over you, what with this whole novel array of emotions. Your heart had begun to pound insanely fast inside your chest as you were overwhelmed with excitement and impatience but, just as the tip of your shoe brushed the surface…

«You must be one hell of an idiot to throw yourself in a frozen lake without knowing the odds of falling in» a familiar voice spoke behind you, as you felt a strong grip on your arm.

Come to think of it, you never considered the possibility of the ice being too thin to hold you, but…

«Dabi?!» you exclaimed as you turned around and saw your “savior”.

The raven-head immediately let go of you.

«Dude, what the hell are you doing here?! How did you even find this place?!» you asked frantically, shifting your body so that you could face him.

Dabi was looking down at his feet, hands on his pockets, minding his own business as usual and, of course, being unreadable. That lousy attitude of his was getting on your nerves from time to time but, he hadn’t done anything to intrude your privacy during the time of your comradeship. However, his way of acting in certain situations seemed really annoying to you.

His turquoise gaze flicked as it met with yours slowly.

«You don’t own the place, as far as I’m concerned».

Cocky bastard.

He had a point though. It was simply a glade, hidden in the density of the city’s forest. It belonged to no one, which simultaneously meant that everyone could have access to it.

You rolled your eyes, feeling quite irritated by the fact that he was right. It’s not like you had some sort of problem with him, it’s just that you didn’t like it when others proved you wrong.

«I don’t alright but… how did you end up here?» you asked, fiddling with your fingers nervously, genuinely feeling curious.

«Well… I was just… walking the other day and then I found this place… which ended up being to my liking…» he said, his gaze moving around the place and never focalizing somewhere specifically.

You nodded in agreement, «That lake is so… magic—«

«I hate that lake».

You averted your goggled-up eyes to meet your companion. He was standing upright; head tilted upwards, black hair and coat getting carried away by the soft currents of wind, bright cerulean eyes, suddenly narrowing to a dark, nostalgic glare.

You could confidently say that you were witnessing one of the most terrifyingly beautiful sights in your life; the horrific murderer of a man bowing to the one and only indomitable conqueror: the past.

You felt tiny beads of sweat coursing down your forehead in nervousness, searching frantically for something to grasp onto, as the urge to run away took your being over. Dabi was a horribly dreadful man; what made him like this though, weren’t his capabilities as a serial killer but the fact that, you knew so little about him. The unknown is and will always be by far the most frightening thing.

«I don’t like the ice…» he spoke menacingly low, his obscure look still transfixed to the void. You chose not to reply and await his word instead, feeling too self-cautious to find the courage to talk.

«It reminds me of… back then…» he murmured as a twisted smile bent his lips slightly. His stance didn’t alter one bit, standing haughtily against the wind with the soft moonlight steeping his form delicately.

Back then?

«Does anyone know about… back then?» the words slipped out of your lips involuntarily, making you cover your mouth with your hands in embarrassment.

The twisted smile stretched exceedingly, eventually managing to distort his facial features into a sick, maniacal expression. A psychotic laugh followed shortly, echoing in the nightly horizon, bringing out the derangement hidden within his broken soul.

«Back then… is Hell» he retorted coldly, no emotion but aversion, lacing his hoarse voice.

Just how traumatized are you, Dabi?

Silence. Long, comfortable silence. You took your sweet time to process your comrade’s pained words, seeking some way to comfort him. Could you though? Years of trauma was weighing down on your shoulders. You had no idea what he had been through, you didn’t even know his real name, for God’s sake! How could you help someone without knowing even the most basic things about them?

But I need to help…

Taking one swift, curt breath, you plucked up the courage to speak up, «Was it… that bad?» you asked with a cautiously low voice, not entirely sure what to expect as an answer.

Dabi’s slim body shifted immediately, his sadistic grin once again deforming his features, to something truly repulsive and… horrific.

«Bad you say?» he laughed ironically, «Do you even have the slightest idea how it feels to wake up every day and genuinely believe you’re a piece of trash, an unworthy dross?» he raised the tone of his voice taking a step closer to you, «Or to wonder if you actually should have been born?» another step, «Have you ever been rejected by your own family?» another, more infuriated step, «Have you questioned your existence?» he stopped in front of you, looking down on you, his judgmental finger pointing to you, «HAVE YOU—«

Without allowing him to finish another self-distractive sentence, you dived in instinctively, your arms wrapped around his built torso, and before realizing it, you were embracing Dabi in your miserable attempt to comfort him.

«No, I haven’t. But that doesn’t mean you can’t share your thoughts and pain with anyone, Dabi» you inhaled some of his scent, «…the more you bottle up your emotions and shut them in, the more drained you’ll feel…» you expected his arms to wrap around you too, yet, it never happened.

«How do you know?»

A hefty sigh of relief jumped out of your lips, «It happens even at the simplest of situations… sometimes when I feel down and don’t let it out somehow, I feel like I constantly have something weighing down on me… something that’s holding me down…» you explained, slowly letting go of him.

When you looked up and saw his clouded eyes, you noticed something converted in them. As if all this psychopathic tension had been replaced by something more… gentle… mundane… and the light smile that grazed his lips accounted for that.

«If you ever want to talk to someone… I’ll be here…» you informed him and carefully strayed, far from that place, leaving Dabi all alone, while he stared at that frozen lake, which brought back so many grievous, icy cold memories…

Hope you enjoyed! Leave a heart, comment, reblog! 💕

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my-writings-and-musings · 3 years

Note

This is the medic berth sharing anon, and I forgot to add, what if when talking to a bot(not necessarily a medic), the conversation some how drifted to where the human just casually mentions that professional cuddling is A Thing, and what would the reactions be?

I've got a lot here as a follow up because once again, your ideas inspire me anon! Prepare for a wall of text!

Rodimus

·He's not necessarily surprised, because your species is so incredibly soft, why not have humans who specialize in using that talent? But he's still never considered it before, and is curious as to how one becomes a "proffesional" at something so basic, and what kind of training it could possibly entail.

·Hearing that it's more for humans who have endured trauma, or humans who come from cultures or backgrounds where such contact is frowned upon, makes him a little sad. He's an affectionate bot and can't imagine not having access to something so simple, but then realizes their own species could perhaps do with some physical affection based therapy, not that he feels qualified to suggest such a thing...

Drift

·After a brief request for more information he's delighted by the sound of the practice, even if he doesn't have all the details. Creating harmony through positive energy and healing through affection is a personal ideal of his, and to hear another species practicing it is quite uplifting!

·It's unfortunate it isn't widely practiced, but the mere fact it exists is enough to give him some inspiration, so he asks for as many facts as you can give. With a bit of planning he absolutely intends to pursue this for Cybertronians, even if by just bringing it up as a proposal, and hopefully Ratchet will be willing to give it a chance!

Ultra Magnus/Minimus Ambus

·Initially he needs you to repeat yourself and explain in more depth, because he's certain he heard you wrong. How can one do something so common "professionally"? It takes a fair amount of conversation and a lot of context for him to understand the therapeutic aspect, which he begins to see once you also lay out what a social species humans are and how damaging solitude can be.

·The idea of healing through affectionate contact is something he can grasp, at least. Cybertronians aren't so different, though many such needs have long been neglected, and he is doubtful it could catch on until a significant amount of restoration is done. He'd be interested in seeing it happen, and can see how it would benefit a war ravaged population, provided there is proper licencing for those who wish to pursue it.

Ratchet

·He's immediately intrigued, but not at all surprised, and discusses the similarities such a practice reveals between humans and Cybertronians. As imposing as bots may be, they're still a social species, and a lack of physical affection can do great harm. Also like humans, bots tend to be unaware of the depth of the need until they're suffering.

·Talking about it really gets him thinking. They've neglected a lot to win the war, and now that they're here, needs like this should come back into focus. It would certainly be worth it to encourage such things where he can, even if bots don't understand or believe in the benefits. They may not have proffesional cuddlers, but this ship is undoubtedly bursting with lonely bots who'd be willing to give it a try.

Rung

·As a kind of therapy, it's entirely new to him, but the benefits are exceptionally clear even before you elaborate. Bots are a caring and tender species under all that armor, despite the image the war has created, so he can see that humans would find solace in such a thing due to their similarities. Being a proponent of slow and measured healing also makes the idea quite agreeable.

·He discusses the possible changes one would have to make for Cybertronians, which would probably be somewhat significant due to their differences in size, anatomy, and cultural practices. The basic idea could still stay though, especially for the many traumatized not just by battle, but by the shortage of tender intimacy the war created in its stead. He'll absolutely write a paper on this, and he actually feels it's worth publishing! Should you suggest he'd be a natural at providing such care he will blush for a multitude of reasons.

Swerve

·He keeps it to himself, but his first emotion is one of absolute longing. Someone to just hold you, and comfort you, with the skill of a therapist but the gentle embrace of a friend? He plays it off like he sees it as another quirky human thing, but he subtly prods for more information under the veneer of casual conversation, and starts wishing his own kind had an equivalent.

·As much as he'd prefer having someone who just wants to be with him like that as a friend, the idea of a proffesional is still tempting beyond belief, and he wonders if the increased interaction between your species might make some bots pick up the trade. Just enjoying the simple, uninterrupted company of another for a bit would be heavenly, but he's absolutely not willing to say that out loud.

Skids

·Knowing that slow and steady therapy works, he can definitely see that being helpful, even if he doubts he'd ever get anything out of something like that. He likes to move and have fun when he socializes, and sitting still with someone would probably just end in a nap for him, not that he minds the idea of that too much...

·One thing he is curious about is the statistics of the occupation, as baffling as they may be. Why are the proffesionals mostly female and the clients mostly male? Don't humans, like bots, long for affection no matter their physical makeup? An explanation of stereotypes and gender roles and everything involved on that front just makes him think he needs a drink.

Whirl

·Of course he cracks a few jokes about tiny squishy humans needing to be mushed, but it's in good humor, because he actually gets it pretty much right away. The whole idea is a sappy one, but all of therapy is sappy, and you can thank brains for being so darn easy to trick up with feelings for that little design flaw.

·He explains that the biggest part of you to hurt when someone screws you over is your sense of trust, so something that makes you be super vulnerable is obviously the way to fix it, at least for some. After emphasizing how he'd never benefit from such a thing, he posits that cuddling is potentially the most dangerous thing you can do, making folks willing to try it on thr regular with strangers pretty damn brave. His logic on the ease of stabbing while snuggling is not one you can argue.

Chromedome

·Fully aware of the chaos life can bring, he immediately gets why someone would want a little time to relax with someone calm, even if it's more of a clinical session than a platonic bonding. Admittedly the lack of concrete guidelines does worry him a little once he hears the qualifications are rather loose, but is anything perfect?

·Being a bot who fully gets how desperate a suffering individual will go, he can't help but consider what a benefit such simple pain relief could be, but also mourns for those who don't have access to something so... basic. Suffice to say he gets ample cuddling, and knows full well how precious every moment is.

Rewind

·Being so focused on memory has taught him the emotional impact even a little encounter can have, so he isn't at all surprised some species would have learned to utilize this, only that his own hasn't. Being such a varied and armored species can make any intimacy difficult, but that hardly means they're strangers to snuggling after all.

·The thought of such loneliness can't help but make him a little sad, especially when he learns many of the humans seeking out this service are in relationships. Not a day goes by for him without hand holding or hugs or nuzzles... He hopes your species makes this more common as therapy for their own sake.

Cyclonus

·Initially he's a bit bewildered, though many aspects of earth culture bewilder him, and further discussion does little to help him grasp the concept or its benefits. It seems silly and, at least internally, he can't help but perceive it as inappropriate. It isn't until you elaborate on why humans seek this service out that he begins to get some clarity.

·Hearing about how many human cultures frown on caring contact in virtually any situation, even between partners, is a little alarming. He knows the struggle of expressing emotions after even allowing yourself to feel them, but to be so caged by tradition that one needs secret contact with a proffesional for a taste of warmth or companionship... well, that's unfortunate.

Tailgate

·Immediately you see him perk up, as if the mere mention of cuddling catches his attention. He asks lots of questions, some on the proffesion and others on the ways humans express care, and while saddened that the job is needed he's happy that help is there for those who need it.

·You're then given an enthusiastic but confidential talk on how he's finally getting all the hugs he needs with Cyclonus, who will never admit it but he's certain is benefiting from the cuddling as much as he is. While not aware of the six million years he was out, it's felt as if his body is, and thus he's been eagerly catching up with loving snuggles whenever possible. Speaking of which, want a hug?

Velocity

·She's not at all caught off guard by the idea, as it makes a lot of sense for the sake of mental health, especially to a doctor of a species that could use the practice. While Caminus has been spared the war between factions, it's unfortunately not a haven for emotional wellbeing either. The need to stand out and meet cultural requirements of frugality forces many to be just as reserved with their needs as the humans seeking out help that you describe.

·She wonders if it'd be possible to introduce something like that to her own people, if not on Cybertron. But there's a lot of cultural resistance, just as she's sure you've seen on earth, to taking care of oneself even for such a basic need. She expresses respect for humans on actually taking the steps to improve.

Nautica

·As with all new things, she's immediately interested in learning the full depth of the subject, both inside and out. If you don't know it all that's okay! She can just plough through a few books and then she'll feel like she's got it down! This means she wants to know about human therapy, affection, cultural hindrances, the neurochemtistry of physical contact... Anything you know to start on these subjects would be helpful.

·Before and after her quick study break, her biggest takeaway is the huge taboo humans have placed on touching, something she can barely wrap her head around. Sure, bots have unnecessary hangups as well, but casual taction just... happens? Why would any culture have issues with that? Even as someone who occasionally trips up and crosses physical boundaries, she knows that space is important, but it's not meant to be a barrier. You'll let her know if you need a break from what sounds like an exhausting mindset, won't you? She's always here for a quick hug or even just a shoulder pat!

Megatron

·All talk of human culture once made him cringe, not out of disgust, but out of an admittedly deserved guilt. With you he's at least opening up to conversation on the topic, and this is one of the things he needs a bit of elaboration on, as his bafflement is so great you can see it on his face. His experience with physical affection being nonexistent doesn't make it any easier for him to follow.

·When you mention the concept of being "touch starved" he finally gets it, but has a less than thrilling realization himself. He's never heard a word describe his deeply buried longing so effectively, and your talk of earth culture occasionally stifling people to the point of needing these services strikes a nerve he hadn't known was so tender. As with every other vulnerability in his life, he buries it down and secures the weakness firmly away, keeping his expression neutral as he pretends the topic is just another curiosity.

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spidernerdsblog · 4 years

Text

I Forgot That You Existed : Chapter Eight

A/N: Chapter eight is here. A little longer than other chapters got carried away. Things are finally starting to fall back in their places will Y/N finally let her guard down.Hope you like this chapter. Feedback and suggestions are always welcome.

Pairing : Tom Holland × Singer reader

Summary : It's been more than five years since you and Tom have gone their own ways after a heartbreaking breakup which had left both of you shattered. Both of you thought that you were finally over with each other and were happy in your respective lives until you meet again at a reunion trip planned by your best friend and you realize you are still not done with each other.

Warnings : none

Mini Playlist : You belong with me and Style by Taylor Swift, Levitating by Dua Lipa

People gathered around you all after hearing the commotion.Tom picked you up in princess style and carried you to the car. He gently placed you on the seat then took out the water bottle and sprinkled some water on your face. You regained your consciousness, fluttering your eyes open. Immediately you grasped on to him..

“Tom!! That Steve!” you panicked

He embraced you in his arms, chin resting above your head whilst brushing his hand through your hair in a comforting manner. Your face was buried into his chest. The warmth radiating from his body made you feel safe.

“I know baby, it's okay now don't worry I’m here. He'll never come near you again. Let's get you home okay.”He cooed in a soothing manner.

You were trembling as you looked up to him tears shimmering in your eyes. He brought his hands to cup your face wiping your tears with his thumbs as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead. He fastened the seat belt around you and swiftly went and sat on the driver's seat and started the car. Throughout the drive he was checking upon you constantly. He figured out that you were traumatized.

“Y/N just close your eyes and don't think of anything else. I’m here darling. Here, hold my hand.” you complied to him closing your eyes you squeezed his hand. Tom knew very well that when you were stressed you needed someone for reassurance.

Reaching home Tom helped you out of the car. His hands across your body you leaned yourself on him. He slowly took you inside.

A wave of shock ran through everyone's faces after seeing you in such a pathetic condition. Zendaya ran towards you.

“Y/N!? Oh my god! What happened to her?” concern in her voice as she took you from Tom’s arms.

“Long story.” Tom sighed

“For now get her some rest. Also she fainted a while ago.”

“What!?” everyone exclaimed in unison

“I knew this would happen, she hadn’t eaten anything since morning,” Chloe said, shaking her head.

Needless to say the whole trauma of the incident and your intermittent starving took a toll on you. You were down with fever. Zendaya nursed you through the night. Though Tom had earlier insisted on taking turns but everyone told him not to due the ongoing tension between him,you and El.

Everybody had trouble sleeping that night as they were worried about you. Next morning everyone was gathered in the living room.

“Man I would have chopped off his hands. How dare he even think of her like that? Harrison said angrily

“What do you think mate, I didn't think of doing that? I felt like choking the life out of his body”

“It's all my fault. She wasn't even willing to come. I was the one who forced her to come this time.” Harrison lamented.

"Don't blame yourself man. This wouldn't have happened if I hadn't made a scene that night." Tom shook his head.

"But Y/N has to still do the concert right? What if he appears there?" Harry pointed out.

"We need to talk to Alex right away." Harrison said.

"Yeah, good point, let me talk to Alex about it." Tom sprinted off the couch to go to your room as he saw Zendaya walking down the stairs yawning.

"Hey how's she?"

"Yeah she is fine now. Temperature is also normal but she's still asleep due to the medication."

"Good for her only she needs it."

Tom went to your room. His eyes went to your sleeping figure, he wondered how angelic you look sleeping peacefully. He pulled up the blanket a little bit over you. And placed a soft kiss on your forehead. Your phone was lying on the nightstand. He took your phone and unlocked it. He smiled at the fact that you haven't changed your pass code. He searched through your contact list and dialled Alex's number.

"Hey Y/N finally got the time to remember me huh! How are you dear?

" Umm.. Hi Alex it's Tom"

"Oh hi Tom is everything alright ? Oh my god did anything happen to Y/N?" Alex panicked.

"Oh no relax she's fine… sort of. A certain kind of problem has arised here actually." Tom explained to him everything about what had happened.

"Oh that swine. Thanks Tom for letting me know. I'll see to it that the moron gets fired and will arrange for a new one."

"See to it that it's a lady this time. Really don't want any more men around her."

"Yeah sure."

"Umm Alex I heard that you actually managed all this stuff for her."

"Yeah I never let her directly associate with anyone and it now seems that was a mistake from my side."

“Uhh can I.. you know be her assistant for this event and look into the matter.” Tom said hesitantly.

“That will be great Tom. I will be so relieved but only if you are okay with that.”

“I'm more than okay.” Tom said cheerfully.

“But I don't think she will agree to it. I know her very well. Tell her I appointed you then she'll not protest.”

“Okay thanks Alex.”

“I should be thanking you Tom for looking after her even after the past you both share.”

"Don't worry Alex I'll never leave her alone. It was nice talking to you mate"

"Same here man."

"I better go check up on her."

"Yeah sure" Tom ended the call.

Tom was about to enter your room, he saw that you were up.

"Whoa where do you think you are going? You are not putting your feet down from the bed today." Tom said with a serious tone.

“I need to use the toilet dimwit. Or you want me to wet the bed?”

“Oh that will be odd.”

“Let me help you” he gave you his hand.

“I'm fine, I can walk.”

By the time you were inside the bathroom. Tom quickly went downstairs to the kitchen to bring your breakfast. He had requested Sam especially to make your favorite soup. Tom was busy arranging everything on a tray as Sam spoke.

“Is El okay with all of this that you are doing?”

“I’m way past what others think about the relationship I and Y/N share, Sam. El has to understand that before we were a couple Y/N and I were best friends and that relationship will never change. Though lately I have been failing in my best friend duties too.”

“But are you doing this for Y/N as her childhood best friend or are your boyfriend instincts coming back?”

“No mate Y/N and I have been through it. We aren't getting back together at least she doesn't want to.”

“What about you bro?”

“I don't know. For now I only know she needs me and I'll be there for her."

You stepped out of the bathroom feeling fresh. You walked to the dressing table to brush your hair. Tom walked in your room and placed the food tray on the bedside table.

“C'mon sit down.” You turned around.

“What's this?”

“Your breakfast. Sam made your favorite soup. Now come over here.” He patted on the mattress

“You seriously don't need to do this for me.”

“You talk a lot just do as I say and come here and sit down.” You went and sat on the bed folding your legs resting your back against the headboard. Tom sat on the bed facing you. He took a spoonful of the soup and blew the hot air to cool it down for you.

“Okay now open your mouth.”

“I'm not a baby Tom. I can eat by myself.”

“Yeah that is why you starved yourself. Seriously Y/N I didn't expect this from you. Since when did you become so irresponsible about your health? I was so worried…I mean we all were so worried about you.”

“I was at a loss of appetite and didn't feel like eating.” You sheepishly looked at him.

“Okay enough talking now, finish this.” Tom fed you. After you finished eating he wiped your mouth with a napkin.

“By the way thanks for this and yesterday.”

“Hey I'm your friendly neighborhood spiderman it's my job to protect people.” He chuckled. You smiled, shaking your head. Suddenly your face dropped as you remembered last night's events. Tom noticed that.

“Hey it's alright Y/N.” He said holding your hand and rubbing his thumb reassuringly.

"You were so right Tom, that guy was a monster. How could I be so blind?" you repented.

"Just forget about that moron thinking as if it was a nightmare which is now over."

"By the way I have good news for you. I'm your temporary assistant for this whole event.”

“No you're not.” you said in disbelief.

“You don't get to decide because Alex has already appointed me and now everything will go through me.”

“What!? You called Alex? I'm so dead right now.” You shook your head holding it with your hand.

“He has strictly said not to allow you to interact with anyone I'm in charge of everything for the next three days.”

“Okay but do I need to pay you? I don't mind but I didn't appoint you, you volunteered so it should be free.” Tom laughed. Just then Paddy knocked at the door. You both looked at him. Tom walked to him and took the thing Paddy brought with him in his hand.

“Thank you Pads I'll take it from here.”

“What is that?”

“A glass of warm milk for you.”

“And what do you expect from me? To drink it? That's not happening.” You crossed your arms shaking your head in disapproval.

“Y/N you have to drink this. You are still weak.”

“Tom you know very well I am nauseous to it's smell.” you whined

“See I haven't told your parents about your fainting episode so if you don't want them to know, finish this.”

“Are you blackmailing me?” you raised an eyebrow placing your hands on your hips.

“I might if you don't listen.” he shrugged.

“Uggh!! okay fine!” You took the glass from his hand and pinched your nose so that you don't inhale the smell. You drank the milk.

“C'mon. Yeah almost there.” Tom encouraged you.

"Good girl." You gagged after you finished it. He took the glass from your hand. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Okay as you're taking a rest today let me chalk out everything for your event. So what songs are you planning to perform?”

“Everything is noted down on my iPad, wait let me bring it.”

“What did I say you are not setting your feet down today. I'll take it myself, where is it?” You rolled your eyes.

“It's in that brown duffel bag.” He went and unzipped the bag. Something of yours caught his eyes as a slight blush crept on his face.

You suddenly remembered in that bag you had packed some of your finest lacy lingerie just in case you know, but now it was too late. You flustered noticing his facial expressions.

"What are you ogling at you perv? They are just clothes only okay. And as if you have never seen those before" Tom was startled as he turned around.

"What!? I didn't say anything.” He chuckled. “And these I'm seeing for the first time, when did you buy these? They are really pretty by the way" he gave a cheeky grin. You gawked at his audacity narrowing your eyes.

"Okay sorry I shouldn't have said that" he laughed.

He extended you the tablet, you snatched it from him and opened the files and handed it back to him. After taking a look he said.

"Okay the other songs are fine but I don't agree with the starting song."

"Why?"

"It's kind of dark and I think you should start with something cheerful."

"Tom that song got record views on YouTube in 24 hours and to be speaking of dark the whole album is dark. And Steve also said it would be.." you stopped as Tom gave you a questioning look.

"Yeah right no more talking or thinking about that moron but I need to sing at least one from the album." You whined.

"Yeah choose any other song from the album and sing it in between not in the beginning."

"Then what do you want me to sing?"

"I have the best song in my mind." He took out his phone and played a song.

You belong with me playing

"Oh no no no I'm not doing that." you nodded your head sideways vigorously in disapproval.

You're on the phone with your girlfriend, she's upset

She's goin' off about somethin' that you said

'Cause she doesn't get your humor like I do

I'm in the room, it's a typical Tuesday night

I'm listenin' to the kind of music she doesn't like

And she'll never know your story like I do

Song continues to play in the background……

"Oh c'mon. You used to love singing this when I was in a relationship with the girl you hated the most in high school."

"Huh! That gothic troglodyte." You scoffed.

"What was her name again?" Your forehead puckered pretended to think hard.

"Sofia"

“Yeah right Sofia. How dare she come to me and say to stay away from you. I was this close to hitting her in the face.” Tom shook his head laughing.

“I was like excuse me bitch don't get so flattered with the new boyfriend you are showing off to the world because if I go and tell him to leave you he will oblige to me without a question and throw you out of his life."

"You seriously had that much trust in me." Tom’s eyes widened.

"I trusted you more than me, dummy."

“You seriously couldn't ask out any other girl in the whole school? How desperate were you?" you frowned, rolling your eyes.

“C'mon I wasn't a stud that time as you see me now."

“You could have asked me out." You pouted.

“You were my junior Y/N how could you come to my senior prom."

“I still remember how you used to roam around her like a puppy.” you giggled.

“No I didn't.” he retorted.

“Yes you did but when she dumped you for that red head I was the happiest person on this planet not gonna lie.” you snorted.

“Ouch”

“She was a good riddance though.” You chuckled.

“That's why you were upset and wrote this song back then?” He arched his brows.

“Nooo why would I be upset with that flour bag. It was you for who I was upset for. I had this huge crush on you but you never noticed it. I felt insecure. She made me think that maybe I'm not good enough for you. Maybe I'm not that pretty.” you rambled.

“Hey hey listen to me.” He cupped your face.

“you're the prettiest, most talented and kind hearted girl I have ever met. We actually don't deserve you. You are perfect and that is why even after I had feelings for you since like forever I didn't have the guts to ask you out. Never underestimate yourself, you only deserve the best.”

El had come to call Tom but she stopped at the doorway as she listened to your conversation.

Can't you see that I'm the one who understands you?

Been here all along, so why can't you see

You belong with me

Standin' by and waitin' at your back door

All this time, how could you not know, baby

You belong with me

Have you ever thought just maybe

You belong with me

You gazed into his soft brown eyes. You wanted to tell him that you have already lost the best thing you had, that is him. You both stared into each other a little longer, you cleared your throat to ease the tension as Tom retracted his hands from your face.

“Uhh okay I think you should lie down now let me go check what others are doing.”

“Yeah." Tom left taking the food tray.

………………………………….

After lunch you were still lying on bed utterly bored Zendaya was beside you reading a book.

“Am I on my deathbed?''

“What makes you think that?" Zendaya chuckled.

“Then why am I not allowed to go out?"

“You are sick and anyways the boys are decorating the house for Harrison's birthday so we don’t have anything to do."

“Wait what!!? Oh my god I totally forgot today is Harrison's birthday." You slapped your forehead.

"They are decorating and didn't bother to call me. Wait till I kick their asses." You got up from the bed and ran downstairs.

“What are you guys doing?" you said, crossing your hands, frowning.

“Can't you see we are decorating." Harry said.

“Yeah that I can totally see but is Haz turning 5 today? What's with this annoyingly stupid decoration?" you said with a sarcastic tone.

“And the sassy queen is back.'' Harry quipped.

“Seriously guys I have been away from you all like what six years and you guys have lost all your class. I didn't expect your standards to go this low. But that's fine I'm here now I'll get you back in shape."

“Y/N we can't redo the decorations again we are tired already." Sam whined.

“And why are you even out of your bed? Tom counter questioned you holding some streamers in his hands.

“C'mon guys my man is turning 30. I want it to be special. Pleaase." You pouted.

“Okay as you say Y/N." The boys agreed.

"Yayy!! Love you guys" You clapped your hands excitedly.

“Okay let's discuss and make a list of things we require quickly.

“First of all the theme color of the party will be black and gold so I need metallic balloons in black and gold. Sam I need you to cook the finest dishes you have got to offer. Tuwaine you handle the booze Jacob will help you with that. Oh and for the cake I need a rum cake."

“What are you gonna do?" Harry asked.

“What? I'm already doing the work of supervising you guys isn’t that enough?. Moreover, I'm sick too, you know."

“Always know your way with us."

“Okay enough talking get your asses back to work we don't have much time. And take these ridiculous decorations out of my sight." Everyone got back to redecorating the house as per your directions.

“Okay guys everything ready? Ed texted me they are almost at the front door."

"Everything is as you wanted Y/N stop stressing so much" Tuwaine reassured.

"Okay then get into your positions."

Ed came back with Harrison. The lights were out as you all positioned yourselves. As soon as the door opened you all jumped out of your places. The lights turned on.

“Surprise!!!!!!"

“Happy Birthday!!! Harrison!!!" Everyone shouted in unison.

“Whoa!!" Harrison was overwhelmed with joy as he gasped, putting his hand on his chest.

“Now this looks like a dope decoration. Which you divs ofcourse can't pull it off unless it was my best girl…" he was cut short as you walked in singing with the birthday cake in your hand.

Happy birthday to you

Happy birthday dear Harrison

Happy birthday to you

Tom was behind you; he had two crackers lighted in his hands.

“Aww thank you guys I'm feeling so emotional right now." You placed the cake on the table.

“C'mon you div cut the cake."

Harrison blew out the candles and cut the cake. He took a piece and fed you first.

“Congratulations now you are officially an old man." You teased. He then fed to Tom.

“Happy birthday bro." Tom hugged him.Everybody helped themselves with the cake and food.

“Okay let's light up the party will ya?"

You played the music.

Levitating starts playing

(If you wanna run away with me, I know a galaxy

And I could take you for a ride

I had a premonition that we fell into a rhythm

Where the music don't stop for life

Glitter in the sky, glitter in my eye

Shining just the way I like

If you feeling like you need a little bit of company

You met me at the perfect time)

“C'mon singleton I'm your date for tonight.” you pulled Harrison by his hands to the centre of the room.

(You want me, I want you, baby

My sugar boo, I'm levitating

The milky way, we're renegading

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

You pulled him closer to you and placed his hands on your hips. Your hands went on to his shoulders as you both swayed to the music.

(I got you, moonlight

You're my starlight

I need you all night

Come on, dance with me

I'm levitating

You, moonlight

You're my starlight

I need you all night

Come on, dance with me

I'm levitating)

Others joined you shortly. You interlock your hands around his neck as you sway back and forth.

“Sorry for almost ruining your birthday” you pouted.

“Hey this is the best birthday I have ever had” he raised his hands to your shoulders, interlocking them around your neck. “Especially when my best friend has planned everything” He lightly bumped his forehead on yours.

(I believe that you're for me, I feel it in our energy

I see us written in the stars

We can go wherever, so let's do it now or never

Baby, nothing's ever ever too far

Glitter in the sky, glitter in our eyes

Shining just the way we are

I feel like we're forever every time we get together

But whatever, let's get lost on Mars)

Harrison twirled you around as you both laughed. You left his hand and waltzed your way to the tables where the drinks were kept. You saw El standing in the corner you thought of going to her but then let go of the thought.

(You can fly away with me tonight

You can fly away with me tonight

Baby, let me take you for a ride

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

I'm levitating (woo)

You can fly away with me tonight

Baby let me take you for a ride

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

You saw Tom approach El as they happily danced together. You smiled.

(My love is like a rocket, watch it blast-off

And I'm feeling so electric, dance my ass off

And even if I wanted to, I can't stop

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

You, Zendaya and Chloe got up on the large wooden centre table of the living room and started dancing.

“If you girls fall off the table and break your bones we are not taking your responsibility” Ed warned.

(My love is like a rocket, watch it blast-off

And I'm feeling so electric, dance my ass off

And even if I wanted to, I can't stop

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

“Don’t worry babe our bones are very strong and bendy” Chloe snickered. As you all bursted out laughing.

(You want me, I want you, baby

My sugar boo, I'm levitating

The milky way, we're renegading

I got you, moonlight

You're my starlight

I need you all night

Come on dance with me

I'm levitating (woo)

You all jumped off the table as you were about to turn you bumped into Tom, your palms lay flat on his chest, his hands went around your waist. You locked eyes with each other for a moment, soon you retracted. Harrison came and placed his hands on both of your backs as you danced together.

(You can fly away with me tonight

You can fly away with me tonight

Baby, let me take you for a ride

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

I'm levitating (woo)

Song continues………...

The night was full of hearty laughters, drinks, good music and lots of dancing.

After the wild night you guys had. You were sleeping like a log next morning. Zendaya tried to wake you up but you didn't budge so she gave up. Tom checked the time,he knew you were going to be late if he didn’t wake you up.

“Y/N wake up" Tom nudged your shoulder pulling away the covers.

"Mmmhmm go away Tom let me sleep" you waved your hand to shoo him away.

"You can sleep as much as you want after the concert. C'mon love wake up."

“No!" You pulled over the covers on your face.

Tom thought he had no other option than doing what he was going to do. He put his hands inside the covers and started tickling you.

“Okay sleepyhead now get up."

“Tom! Stop it! No!" You started giggling as you rolled on your side. Tom continued to tickle you and got up on the bed. He was laughing too. You threw your arms and legs to tackle him away. He caught one of your hands and got up to straddle you around your hips.

“You can't win, I have super strength, remember?"

“Oh fuck off you div." You threw your legs once more as Tom lost balance and fell on your side you quickly got up to straddle him.

“I win." You pinned his hands down and flashed a cheeky grin.

“Not so easily darling." He easily freed his hands from your grip and again started tickling you. You struggled to hold on to his hands as he rolled you over on your back and trapped you under his weight. Your chests pressed against each other, legs tangled, his head buried in the crook of your neck, hands sprawled on the bed. Your palms lay flat on his back holding onto him both of you laughing uncontrollably. You slowly regained your composure, you were breathless due to the laughter riot you had as you whispered softly.

“Tom.."

“Hmm?.." Tom hummed his chest moving up and down heaving.

“Tom.. I think you should get up before anyone comes in and gets the wrong idea." Tom suddenly became aware of the questionable position he was lying upon you.

"Oh yeah." He hurriedly got up.

You sat up fixing your t-shirt. Both of you were blushing as you looked awkwardly at opposite corners of the room avoiding each other's gaze.

“Uh.. I'm sorry." Tom stuttered. You glance up as your eyes meet.

“It's okay. I.. I better get dressed." You tucked your hair behind your ear.

“Yeah me too." He got off the bed and walked out of your room. He turned to look at you one last time, you smiled at him.

After reaching the stage ground. Tom was skillfully doing his job handling each and everything not allowing you to even talk to anyone other than your musical troupe.

“You just focus on your practise session. I'll handle everything." He said.

You discussed with the group and started practicing. After a while you all took a break for half an hour though it was Tom who insisted citing your health. You came back with Tom to the music room to sit for a while. Tom admired the various instruments kept in the room; he took an electric guitar in his hand and strummed a few chords.

“It's not your field of expertise Spiderman." You sneered.

“Are you challenging me?"

“I'm stating facts. You shrugged.

“Try me."

“Really? Okay let's see my next song is Style, think you could play it?” Tom instantly started playing the starting tune of the song on the guitar. You were amazed that he knew the tune so well.

Midnight, you come and pick me up, no headlights

Long drive, could end in burning flames or paradise

Fade into view, oh,

It's been a while since I have even heard from you

(Heard from you)

And I should just tell you to leave 'cause I

Know exactly where it leads but I

Watch it go round and round each time

You took a deep breath closing your eyes and started singing. Your hands went and gripped on to the mike.Tom looked at you in awe. He took his time in admiring the strong and confident woman you have grown into.

You got that James Dean daydream look in your eye

And I got that red lip, classic thing that you like

And when we go crashing down, we come back every time

'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style

You pulled out the mic from the stand raising your voice to a higher octave you sensually strolled in the front brushing your hand below your eye. Going by the lyrics you placed your index finger on your lips giving a subtle wink.

You've got that long hair slick back, white t-shirt

And I got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt

And when we go crashing down, we come back every time

'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style

You carded your hair and strolled sideways trailing your hand from your thighs to your hip. You practised your little dance moves.

So it goes, he can't keep his wild eyes on the road

Takes me home, lights are off he's taking off his coat (Hm yeah)

I say "I've heard that you've been out and about with some other girl, some other girl.

You waltzed towards Tom singing with a smirk on your face. You danced your eyebrows playfully. His eyes fixed on you as he played.

He says "What you've heard is true but I

Can't stop thinking about you" and I

I said "I've been there too a few times"

You sang scrunching your nose, nodding your head and winked with a glint of mischief in your eyes.

'Cause you got that James Dean daydream look in your eye

And I got that red lip, classic thing that you like

And when we go crashing down, we come back every time

'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style

Your eyes were now focused on him. As you gazed intently into each other's eyes. You felt a sudden heat rising in your body.

You've got that long hair slick back, white t-shirt

And I got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt (A tight little skirt)

And when we go crashing down, we come back every time

'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style

Never batting an eyelash you stared at each other. The microphone and the guitar was the only barrier keeping you both apart. You were brought out of your daze when you heard others coming in.

“Well played.” You said.

“All thanks to you. You taught me back then remember?”

The day went pretty well for you. This was the first time in all the days you have spent here where there is no tension brewing between you two.

………………

Next day you were excited to go again for your rehearsal and the sole reason was Tom but it didn't happen.

“You go ahead today, I'll join you later.I have got some calls to make for tomorrow."

“Okay." You left alone in a cab.

After finalizing everything for tomorrow Tom was about to leave to go to you when El stopped him.

“Tom we need to talk."

“Umm El I know after everything happened you despise the fact of me and Y/N interacting with each other. But she's my best friend and you have to make peace with that."

“No Tom I'm totally fine and happy that finally you two have decided to sort out everything between yourselves."

“Then what is the matter El?" he said with concerned eyes.

"Tom I can't live this life of uncertainty anymore. This ongoing tension between three of us is too much for me to handle.

You have to choose Tom either it's me or Y/N. You can't ride two boats at the same time."

"El!?"

“Yes Tom you have to choose. Either you let go of her or let go of me."

“I can't El I seriously can't."

“You love her right?" Tom fell silent. How can he tell his fiancee that he loves someone else.

“Then what is the problem Tom? Why are you giving up on her so easily?"

“What about you El? I don't wanna hurt you in this process"

“You know I love you and after meeting Y/N I learnt what true love is. When you truly love someone there are no expectations, no forced emotions you learn to let go for the sake of their happiness that's what she has been doing all these years and continues to do still now. She loves you Tom even though she's in a state of denial."

"And even if we get married what's the use of pretending to be in love with someone when we aren't? El took off her engagement ring and handed it to Tom.

"Here take this. It doesn't belong to me anymore"

"I'm sorry El you don't deserve this."

"It's okay Tom. Maybe in the near future when I look back at this I'll just laugh it off as how kiddish this whole thing was." Tom's eyes were wet as he gave a tight lipped smile.

“Just don't screw up this time or I'll kick your ass off if you make my sacrifice go into waste." She chuckled.

“Go get her tiger.And don't forget to invite me to your wedding."

“I love you El. Thank you so much" he hugged her.

“Love you too Tom" El kissed him on his cheek.

"Where are you going by the way from here?"

“I'm gonna go MIA for a while. The media attention that is going to come after this news breaks out will be huge and I'm not ready to handle that,so you take the heat while I lay low and enjoy." She winked.

Everyone was surprised to see El all dressed up coming down the stairs Tom behind her with some luggage.

"Hey guys it was fun staying over here, I wish I could stay a little longer but gotta flight to catch" Eleanor went and hugged each one of them.

"Wish Y/N was here" she sighed

"okay guys goodbye" Eleanor waved and went out of the house. Everyone was puzzled.

“Hey Tom what's with El? Where's she going?"

“She's leaving Haz."

“Why!?"

“We are calling it quits for good Haz."

"I'm going to see her off and will be back by afternoon" Tom left with El.

You eagerly waited for Tom the whole time but when he didn't show up you were really upset. You booked a cab while returning home.

“I have really got an awesome assistant. Like what kind of person he is, he didn't show up for today's session and didn't even bother to call and tomorrow is my event. Where is that twat!?" You grumbled as you entered the house. Not getting any response from anyone you looked around to find a gloomy environment in the house.

“Guys?? Everything alright?"

“Eleanor left." Harrison informed.

“What do you mean by Eleanor left?

“Tom and El have called it quits, the wedding is officially canceled." Harry said.

“What! Why? Oh god this is all because of me." you face palmed, you felt terrible.

“This can’t happen where is Tom? I need to talk to him.”

“He has gone to drop her at the airport”

You dragged yourself to your room, sitting on the bed you ran your hands through your hair frustrated. Suddenly your eyes went to the night stand. A letter, your name written on it. You opened it and read it out

“Dear Y/N

When you will get this letter I will be gone by that time. I wouldn't have been able to say this to you in person so I decided to write it down.First of all my hearty apologies for my behavior towards you that day it was rude but I was upset with my life suddenly turning upside down and battling my own demons hope you understand. Y/N I'm not going away because I feel defeated but I finally realize what true love is and you made me realize that thank you Y/N. Please don't blame yourself. I have consciously taken this decision. I know neither you nor Tom will ever try to hurt my feelings. That is why you both have suppressed your feelings for each other even if it caused extreme pain to both of you. I know eventually if we got married Tom would have been a loyal and dutiful husband I have no doubt in that. But I can't live with the guilt that I separated two soul mates. Yes Y/N you both are made for each. So I felt it's better I leave. I have seen the sparkle in Tom's eyes when he sees you, the way his face lightens up, how happy he is around you. You asked me to fill the void in Tom's life but there is no void left to fill Y/N because they are already filled up with the memories of you. Please Y/N take him back in your life and give him another chance, he totally deserves it. I have seen the pain he hides behind that smile. He is still madly in love with you and so are you with him. How much ever you deny I have seen that love in your eyes too. Life has given you another chance don't waste it. And please don't forget to invite me to your wedding. I will be eagerly waiting for the invitation.

Love

Eleanor.”

.............................................

Taglist:To be added send me an ask I’ll be happy to add you in the following chapters.

@sleepybesson @sophs-library @spideyparkerstark @itstaskeen @milli86 @biebsmylife95 @quaksonhehe @hannahholland1811 @awhollandx @joyleenl @greatpizzascissorstaco @tomhollandsotherpinkytoe @jjandreidsgirl @brighterthanthesunx @marvelpeters @panicattheeverywherekid @onewithnomightypowers @itsnotmeh24 @bitchinwpei @astridcommings @prkrholland @hollandsobrien @timotayswriter @kiki-hines @casualprincess77 @spideyth

#tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #zendaya #taylor swift #haz osterfield #spiderman #peter parker #tom holland x y/n

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qwertyfingers · 3 years

Text

faith healer, come lay your hands on me

here’s a snippet from the self indulgent traumatism (trauma and autism) fic if anyone wants to read it lol. Sam and Cas love to have have problems in the middle of the night. Gen, 2k words, warning for discussions of food scarcity and calming someone down from a panic attack, nothing graphic though. Set in a nebulous late-seasons time period because I respect canon literally not at all.

It’s the middle of the night, sometime between Dean’s custom of falling asleep on his keyboard and Sam shepherding them both to bed, but before his nightly waking up from a nightmare to wander around the bunker checking the wards. Cas is in the kitchen wiping away mostly-imaginary detritus from the counters when Sam finds him; wild-eyed and looking frayed at the seams. He nods at Cas, but nothing follows it. He just stands there in the centre of the room shaking slightly. His eye sockets look like bruises.

Cas tilts his head and squints, considering, “Are you alright, Sam?”

Sam startles in a big way. Huffs breaths in and out of his nose, forehead crinkling with the effort. “What? I. yeah I’m- I’m fine.” He pauses for a few seconds though, hands twisting at the edges of his shirt like they do when he’s worrying. He makes several aborted attempts to keep talking, each less successful than the last. Kicks gently at a table leg and scowls to himself. “It is fine it’s just...” but he doesn’t continue, just starts gesturing with his hands, like he’s run out of words.

Cas turns back to his cleaning, watches Sam filter through all of his most common nervous gestures in the edges of his vision, seemingly not comforted by any of them. He clenches his hands, drags them over his jaw and face, tugs his hair through his fingers roughly. He bounces, frenetic, from foot to foot, socked feet making muffled tapping noises on the hard floor. Says nothing for a long time.

Cas doesn’t sleep much, so he measures his nighttimes in completed tasks rather than minutes and hours. He gets through wiping the surfaces, cleaning out the sink, and setting the dishwasher to its self-clean cycle, before he hears anything from Sam.

When he does finally speak, the words seem to burst out of him all at once, quiet but tense and all in a rush — pressured speech it was called, in the books Cas had been reading. He figured at least one person in the bunker should know about trauma’s effects, and twelve years’ experience had taught him it wouldn’t be the Winchesters.

“You know, when Dean and me were kids we- we didn’t always have a lot to eat. A lot of the time we didn’t have enough to eat. And Dean would… Dean would always feed me first.” He stops and takes a heaving breath, then three, hands clenching and unclenching arhythmically in front of him. They’re hovering just above the kitchen counter without touching, arms held awkwardly aloft like he doesn’t know where to put them. He’s curled forward, and down, head and shoulders hunched in. He looks pained.

The instinct to make oneself small learned from a childhood desperately trying to hide from the reality of his own life. Cas has long since chased away the instinct to get angry about their life before he knew them, but he never stops feeling the sadness of it. There is a deep well of agony that will never be truly told.

“The portions were already so small and he’d- he’d do this thing where he’d, like, eat half his meal and pretend to be full so he could pass the rest on to me. Never took no for an answer. And of course at first I was too young to notice what he was really doing, but then I was twelve, thirteen, and he’d still feed me like I was-” Sam winces, coughs out a small laugh, grimaces, drags his left hand over his face. “God, like I was his son. His ‘baby boy’ he used to say. And he was so thin for so long and-” Sam stops himself here, looking winded. He taps the fridge door sixteen times with his right hand as he bites at his left thumbnail.

“And obviously we were both fine in the end, Dean’s big and he’s tough but. Sometimes I get this-” he interrupts himself to tug his hands through his hair, sharp, “god it sounds so stupid but I get this thought that. That if Dean hadn’t had to feed me he’d be as tall as I am now and I get all. Normally it’s fine and I just laugh it off because it’s so ridiculous it is a ridiculous thought.” There’s a wet catch in Sam’s throat, and he’s looking at Cas like he can’t tell if he’s about to laugh or cry.

Cas nods slowly, feeling sombre. “Dean is six feet and three quarter inches tall. He is hardly a small man, Sam.” He tries a small smile, to be encouraging, in-on-the-joke but not poking fun, but he can still never tell if he’s hitting the mark or not. A face has so many muscles, and only so much conscious control over them.

Sam surprises him by laughing and crying at the same time. “He’s six feet tall, and he’s one of the strongest humans I’ve ever met — despite being completely allergic to the concept of exercise and I hate him,” he rants, a hint of panic tingeing his voice purple, “so fucking much, and I’m so tired of his bullshit, and yet sometimes I startle awake at night in a panic convinced that I deprived him of his “true height” by having the audacity to be hungry.” The air quotes are a little twitchy, but the attempt to be funny is probably a good sign. Hopefully. Sam’s less prone to sarcasm as a cover for soul-crushing misery than his brother.

Sam starts rearranging the sauce bottles scattered by the stove, hands jerky with the motion. Cas notes in the back of his mind to put them back in place once Sam calms down — Dean needs the kitchen just so. He’s been prone to his own late night trips down memory lane, lately, and he doesn’t need the added stress of obsessive compulsive cleaning on top of it all.

“I told you it was stupid, Cas,” he splutters, and he’s fully crying now, teetering on the edge of hysterical. “Christ, I feel like such an infant.”

Done with the cleaning, Cas folds his cloth into a neat rectangle, hangs it carefully through the loop of the oven door handle as he passes by. He picks up a clean cloth from the pile in the cupboard below the sink too. He heads towards Sam, movements slow and careful to give him a chance to back away — Sam’s liable to startle like a rabbit even on his best days. Cas has been trying his hardest not to trigger it; the ‘fight/flight/freeze instinct’ as he’d learned. It’s helped him understand a lot of Sam and Dean’s reaction better. He only wishes he’d known about it sooner.

He presses his hand gently to the outside of Sam’s elbow, looks him in the eyes and holds his gaze steady. “It’s not foolish, Sam. But surely, your childhood was full of enough tragedy, that you needn’t add to it.”

Sam’s breathing is heavy and ragged, and his eyes are darting between Cas, and the walls, and the condiments he’s still twitching across the counter. He stops, breathes deep, tugs his long sleeves down over his hands and dabs at his wet face. He huffs a laugh between bouts of sobs, mutters something that sounds like “Yeah, yeah, doesn’t help me stop thinking it though,” but Cas can’t be entirely sure, because Sam’s speaking into his shirt cuffs with hands clamped tight over his mouth.

Cas moves his hand slowly from Sam’s elbow to his shoulder, leans in slow to bring his other arm around Sam’s back and hold him loose to his chest. Sam gasps loudly and sobs, wet, shoves his face into the front of Cas’ shoulder indelicately as he responds with his own arms. He clutches at the back of Cas’ coat and weeps, done with trying to hold it all in. He’s shaking less now, but it’s impossible to know whether it’s progress or if he’s turning further inward without seeing his face.

Cas pulls him closer and moves the hand on his back upwards, rubs it in slow, careful circles across his shoulder blades. Pressure is good, he’d read, especially with flashbacks. Pressure grounds you in the present; a small, physical beacon of something that’s unquestionably real. He’s not sure if Sam notices or appreciates it, but he’s not going to ask; doesn’t want to run the risk of making their home feel clinical.

It seems like the kind of crying where speaking wouldn’t help, so he lets it run its course. He keeps up the pressure at Sam’s back, and takes his palm to pet at Sam’s hair, something he’d seen Dean do so many times. Sam seems to jump at first, coughing once into Cas’ sodden shirt, but doesn’t move or ask him to stop, so after a long moment of awkwardly holding his hand still on top of his head he strokes his fingers out, and Sam sighs on the end of a gurgle.

Cas hears words now and then, ‘stupid’s and ‘christ’s and once, bafflingly, ‘fucking lucky charms’, but for the most part Sam seems content to simply cry until he stops. It’s not a quick thing. The air stills around them as Sam calms, gentled down from wracking gasps to sniffling tears, to simple heavy breaths.

Extricating himself is a clumsy affair even for Sam. His arms seem to catch, held in that clutching shape by the tension of the moment, and he has to slowly roll all of his joints loose. He unfurls slowly, like a flower in sunlight, until he stands back at full height. He does look brighter, now, and he carries the crackle of something almost like grace in him, Cas thinks. Peace always shines out of a person.

He grasps Cas’ upper arm for a moment, takes the offered cloth to dry his face before handing it back to Cas and gesturing at the front of his shirt. From the wry, wrinkled-nose smile he throws him as he steps away, Cas thinks he’s also realised the shirt is already a lost cause, but Cas pats himself down anyway, something to occupy his hands for a moment.

Sam leans back briefly to rest against the counter, then gets a different idea and twists around toward the cupboards. He takes out three cups, some chamomile tea, fills the kettle up to the line drawn on the side in red sharpie. “Thanks, Cas,” he whispers with his head in a cupboard, ears tinting red. “I - heh - think I needed that.” He huffs a laugh again, some genuine mirth in it now. “Sorry about your shirt.”

“It’s quite alright. How are you feeling?” Cas can feel himself gazing a little too intensely, watching for Sam’s reactions, but he’s not worried. They know eachother well enough now that Cas can predict what would happen if it got too much; Sam would tell him knock it out, would you, would punch him lightly on the upper arm. He’d most likely try to crack a joke that would land flat, because Sam and Cas have never understood eachother’s humour very well, even when Sam isn’t sleep deprived and beginning to fade at the edges. Cas would apologise and start cleaning again just to keep out of his way. Out of his hair, as Dean would say. These are familiar dances.

Cas also knows he’s not likely to do it though, that Sam is used to his staring. And then he’s blindsided by another thought — that Sam is used to him. His presence and his quirks and his whims. Cas feels himself smile at that, warm, knowing that it’s true. They’re standing in the kitchen, in their home, and Sam just got snot all over his shirt — the shirt he’ll have to wash, manually, and iron, because he’s not really an angel anymore, doesn’t have the grace to maintain his signature look without effort anymore. The shirt that he’ll still choose to put on each morning when he could choose something simpler — because he trusts Cas enough to subject him to his 3am childhood trauma meltdowns. Cas is a human, with inexorably fallible human hands, and Sam is willing to hand him his heart in the quiet hours of the morning for a little field surgery. Cas almost thinks he feels a little sick.

#spn fic #mine #spn #cptsd manifesto #blank tag to keep out of searches #sam winchester #castiel

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calibancangetit · 4 years

Note

Reader gets nightmares but whenever Caliban stays with her they go away, so he comforts her and maybe sings her to sleep?

I tried to make this as fluffy as I could 😂 buuut I have to make it angsty or it wouldn’t be me writing it 😉

When She Sleeps (Caliban Imagine)

Warnings: Actual Violence, Blood, Gore,

The blood ozzed down your back as your body jerked forward when the whip sliced through your skin. Your screams echoed throughout the beach as you watched your blood stain the sand under your knees. Tears streamed down your face while you did your best to catch your best, but just as you caught it, another lash fell across you flesh.

“Please stop,” your mother’s voice begged, “please, you were suppose to cure her!”

You looked up to your family. Your mother and father were tied together on the sandy floor unable to move. You tried to ignore the way your mother’s broken leg lay awkwardly in front of her. Just as you tried to ignore the gash on your father’s face. You gave them a smile. It was brave of you to offer any expression for them at all. After all, you were here because of them.

“Cure her,” the plague king Purson asked bewildered, “I’ll do more than just cure her,”

Your sobbed softly to yourself; you didn’t deserve this. Your parents had crossed path with a witch, and as witch hunters, they decided it was best to have her and her precious familiar destroyed. When word spread to the witches of Greendale, they released a curse on your parent’s first born child-you. You would be born with the ability to bring forth the darkest shadows of Hell. Then on the day she would turn twenty, she would become hysterical from the shadows and have an uncontrollable desire to kill every living mortal in Greendale. Your parents paid no mind to it. At least not until your father’s shadow tried to strangle him.

“Enough, we have other obligations to attend to. Bring forth Prince Caliban!” Beelzebub announced.

A series of grunts were heard before a blonde man was thrown in the sand in front of you. He grimaced as he raised himself up. He eyed the kings slowly before he finally looked at you. You shuddered at the eye contact but looked down submissively.

“Your highness,” the kings mocked, “today we will be teaching you the ultimate skill for the monarch of Hell. You will be choosing souls to be tormented for the rest of eternity. The girl or her parents. Either way, they have to watch,”

Your head shot up to this Caliban guy. He looked between you and your parents in slight horror. You could tell he was trying to figure out which choice was right.

“The girl lives,”

“No, please it was supposed to be me!” You screamed as your parents sobbed beside each other.

Caliban looked at you ashamed before looking back to the kings, “the parent’s death will be enough torment for her anyways,”

The kings were extremely please with his reasoning and clapped his back excitedly.

“Wait, please!” You screamed.

For a moment, your eyes landed on your parents somber faces as the whispered their love for you. Then all at once, their skin began melting off their bones in clumps. Their voices rang in your ears as their torment began to consume them.

—

Your body shook back and forth as your eyes snapped open from the force. Your vision cleared and above you were a pair of beautiful eyes and soft blonde curls.

“(Y/N), are you alright?” Caliban asked as he wiped your tears off your cheek.

A cry caught in your throat as you tackled Caliban in hug. He grasped onto you and held you tight. You felt him lay back down on your bed with your head tucked against his chest. His hold on you never softened as he tried to relieve every emotion you were feeling from the nightmare.

“Was it your parents again?” He asked softly, almost as if he were afraid of the answer.

You nodded your head against his chest. You felt his breath hitch, and you couldn’t imagine how badly the guilt was hurting him. He didn’t say anything, though. You were thankful for that.

When your breathing slowed down, Caliban’s arms loosened and you allowed yourself to get more comfortable in his arms. You felt him kiss the top of your head before feeling his fingers lift your chin up to face him. Words didn’t leave his mouth, but you knew exactly what he was saying.

I’m sorry

You smiled at him sadly before cupping his face, “I love you,”

He smiled back before pressing his lips against yours. Your mouth moved against his in a soft passionate kiss. The kiss was filled with a love you never thought you’d be able to feel, but when Caliban pulled away to whisper those three words back, you knew it was real.

His thumb caressed your cheek slowly before he pressed a quick kiss against your lips.

“What song, babygirl?” He sighed as he laid his head against the pillow.

“My mom’s lullaby,”

He chuckled lightly before nodding.

Come stop your crying

It will be alright

Just take my hand

And hold it tight

Your nightmares arose from a past that was more traumatic than most.

I will protect you

From all around you

I will be here

Don't you cry

And Caliban was forced to play a major role in that trauma long before you two found the love you share today.

'Cause you'll be in my heart

But in the end, it led him straight to you.

—

Taglist

@octobeers @lena-davina @avocadopoosae @serpentlullaby @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e @awkward-walking-potato @artaxerxesthegreat @reclusive-chicken-nugget @justaproudslytherpuff @nerds4life246 @heda-mikaelson @blog-lady-vi @reheated-coffee @igorsbby

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gra-sonas · 4 years

Photo

In-depth interview with L’Odet

Michael is an actor based in Los Angeles. He's known for his work on The CW's "Roswell, New Mexico." The second season of Roswell dropped on Netflix this week. Photos by Davy Kesey for his Reflections series, a photographic pursuit of vulnerable, multifaceted, and deeply personal portraits.

CARIANN BRADLEY: What did your day to day look like filming the second season of "Roswell, New Mexico?" I know in our first chat together several months ago, you told me you tapped into your friend passing away this time last year. Can you explain to me your process?

MICHAEL VLAMIS: Season two of "Roswell" — it was crazy because so many things happened to me personally going into the season. A buddy of mine passed away; I recovered his body in the middle of an ocean after a freak boating accident . Friends and I were out in Panama, Central America, for a bachelor party and it went from the greatest time ever to one of the most wild experiences of my life. The kid that we lost was one of my childhood best friends.

That happened in May. Shortly after that, I tore my meniscus in my right knee, which is the third time I’ve done that, so I underwent surgery at the end of July. Once that surgery happened, I had to report to the set of "Roswell" about three days later. I couldn’t drive, so one of my roommates actually drove me out to Santa Fe — my roommate Roarke Anderson who I have lived with since college, we played baseball together at Chapman. And then I get out to the shoot and everybody is so worried about me because of my knee surgery. I’m limping and it’s hard for me to be standing on set or doing any physical contact and everybody is babying me so hard! I’m really bad at taking help. The "Roswell" cast and crew were so supportive, so helpful — they got me my own custom chair that I could sit in so my knee would heal quicker.

They were doing all of these things, going out of their way, and I don’t know if it’s a thing that I have — pride or ego or my stubbornness — but taking help from people, even when I need it, is tough for me. I was taking all of this help and then three weeks into shooting, the doctor said, “You can drive, but you don’t want to be hitting the break too hard; take care of your knee.” And on my way to set one morning, a priest turned right in front of me at a green light and I smoked this guy in my car; I totaled my car. He got knocked unconscious, but luckily he was okay, everything worked out — he was healthy, he got taken away from the scene but was able to walk away from the hospital and was doing fine. Right at that time, I was really just feeling the death of my friend, the knee surgery, the car accident — meanwhile, Max, my brother in the show, played by Nathan Parsons of course, is dead in the series.

So, while all of this is going on, I keep channeling my buddy and that horrific incident because it felt like if anything was gonna come out of that — he was a big supporter of my career, always telling people I was acting — I felt like I could do justice to my friend’s death, I could make a positive out of such a negative, and that’s what I did. I really tried to channel him and look to him between scenes and bring that for the loss of my brother in the show.

And, to be honest, I felt like I went too deep into that and it really caught up to me. A month and a half into shooting I just snapped one day. I remember the hair stylist on set all of the sudden told me that The CW thought the right side of my hair wasn’t as curly as it normally is, so they started curling my curls on set and, it’s so funny that that ended up being the last straw. Curling my curls made me feel like a helpless individual who just needed to be so pampered and taken care of and watched after and looked upon — and I didn’t feel like my own person. I ended up saying a dick comment to our hair stylist, who I love and really respect and appreciate, but in that moment I snapped and I got all teary-eyed and she was like, “Dude, what’s going on?” And I gave her a big hug and I’m like, “I’m sorry, this isn’t about you at all,” and I went to my trailer and I wrote a poem and I kind of got out everything I was feeling. From that moment on, which was about six weeks into shooting, I felt better. I had a little bit of a relief. And then, luckily, Max comes back to life halfway through season two and my big episode, episode five, when I channeled my buddy the most was a very tough experience. But once that was over I was able to let the passing of my friend go for a while and everything normalized, but that was everything just on set! You just get so focused on doing your best work that you kind of drive yourself insane.

C: Even just from talking to you the first time we chatted for l’Odet, you just seem like the most productive person ever. How do you take care of yourself? Especially when you’re exerting that much of yourself creatively. Do you do therapy or do you just depend on your support system?

M: I think that changes. At one point in my life it was meditation. I actually meditated for the first time this morning since February because I’ve been feeling so strange lately in the pandemic, right? It’s been ups and downs and I was feeling like I needed a little bit more calmness in my life. I know that I’m a person that really likes control and I like things the way they are and me having a grasp on things — it’s little things. I have a driveway that we park all five of the cars of the house and the cars are parked just back to back to back, so if you’re the first one in, you have to go to your roommates and say, “Hey guys, I have to do a car shuffle, I have to leave,” and it can be an inconvenience for people to go move their cars for you to get out. When I’m meditating and my mind is very relaxed, that doesn't bother me, but I’ve been noticing lately that I don’t want to park in the driveway because I’m gonna get stuck, but at a time like this? When I don’t have to go anywhere, I don’t have to be anywhere, why am I thinking about being stuck? What is going on right there? Why do I need this control again? This feeling of absolute freedom whenever I want when I can achieve that freedom mentally with my car being in the driveway. Little things like that make me realize that I need to get back to centering myself, so I’m going to start meditating again every day, because you asked what I do for my mental health — to be completely honest, I don’t really take care of myself that much!

I’m just kind of a go, go, go person and I like pushing myself. I look at life like a big video game; the more levels I can beat, the more fun it is, but eventually, you get tired of the game and you have to step back so I’m going to try to be putting meditation back into my life. Aside from that, I’ve been reading way more during the pandemic. I’ve read three books, "The Little Prince" is one of them; it’s a children’s book, but you can call it that! I read a book! I’ve read like three books which is more than I’ve read all through "Roswell" because I was just so occupied with writing, so that’s been helping me take a step back and unwind. Aside from that, I need pointers! I need to figure out what taking care of myself actually looks like, because it is peaks and valleys when it comes to my mental health.

C: It seems like you're always working, even when you're not shooting. You're a bit addicted to work, maybe?

M: I think so. I think I’m addicted to accomplishing things that I don’t even think I should be able to accomplish. The people that fascinate me are the Donald Glovers of the world. The guys, and women, who you hear they did something and you’re like, “How?!” How did they make a hit album, a hit TV show, act in all these movies, write for a TV show — all these things that just don’t seem feasible, but he accomplished them! I want that. I like that. I like being the person who is always pushing to just be outside of their comfort zones and accomplish something that was a dream at one point in your life that could turn into reality. I’m really fascinated by that whole process or turning dreams into reality.

C: I think people our age can get really discouraged if one thing doesn’t work out and for a person to be able to keep going, for it to only motivate them more — I think that’s probably a superpower.

M: Superpower or just a big ego! It’s one of the two. Ego is something that I’ve thought about heavily. I’ve blown relationships in the past because of ego, I think my acting work five years ago wasn’t good because of ego. Then you get stripped down, you get beaten down by life, and you get a little more comfortable with the uncomfortable and I think that’s where the best work comes from. For me, yeah, I think I just really like pushing myself. I do see life like this video game, so if one door closes, you don’t put the game down, you don’t all of a sudden stop playing, no, you keep playing in order to beat it! And sometimes that might mean buying the cheat code book or asking a friend how to beat this level or whatever it is, but those little things to figure out how to get past what you’re stuck with — I love those moments. I love getting through something that doesn’t seem like something I can accomplish.

C: Yeah, and something I wrote down, actually, was that from watching "Roswell" season two, I feel like your character is very jaded and he almost needs stuff proven to him to believe that good things can happen. Which makes sense because of all the shit he’s been through and all the trauma that he’s experienced in his life, but were you ever like that personally? Even after this really traumatic experience happened with your friend, are you more jaded because of all these things that have happened in the last year?

M: You know what? No, I’m not. Maybe I should be but, no. I have a tough time living life without leaving my heart on my sleeve and being vulnerable. I think the beauty is in vulnerability, and I admit that I’m not always good at that. I’m actually realizing I’m really bad at that when it comes to relationships with a woman that I may love. It can be very hard for me to say exactly what I want or what I’m feeling. I don’t know why that is exactly, but when it comes to anything else in life, I can say anything I want, anything I’m feeling — I could spill my guts to the cashier at a gas station and I can be okay with that and who I am. So, no, not jaded. The experience that I had with my friend passing, that has just made me more aware, right? Just knowing that accidents like that, freak accidents, like what happened to him on a boat in the middle of Central America at a time where you didn’t think you had a care in the world — that can be flipped on its head in a second. So, just kind of knowing that and that might mean me looking across the street, left and right an extra time, but just kind of learning from every experience but still moving ahead as if I’m just this kid in this world for the first time, soaking everything in. And if I get hurt, that’s just a part of the process. Me being a masochist for my art, because the more I get hurt in real life, the better my art is. It’s kind of a weird balance. If I wasn’t an actor, maybe I wouldn’t feel that way, but I’ve always been this way even before I started acting in my senior year of college. So, that’s tough. I don’t think I’ve been like Michael Guerin, though, where I’m just reaching for answers all the time. I, in the past, prove to myself that I’m a good person or I’m wanted or that I actually can find success in the things I love. It’s just put the hard hat on and go to work and keep plugging away.

C: Interesting. I think that you have really done a good job of truly just drawing on those experiences then, because you really portray that through Guerin really well. I mean, he’s just so different than you which, I mean, is how acting is supposed to be, I guess, right? [Laughs] I guess I don’t know too much about acting.

M: No, definitely! And maybe we even talked about this in the last interview, but I was always so surprised that Carina MacKenzie, our showrunner, said that, as an actor, I am the most different in real life than I am as my character. It kind of blew my mind! I feel like I am Michael Guerin! I feel like everything Michael Guerin does is exactly how Michael Vlamis would react in a situation, but the difference is, when it comes to acting, the truth I’m bringing is under the circumstances of Michael Guerin. So, what he’s going through is exactly how I would react in those situations, but I’m just not in those situations because that’s not how I think or operate in my life! But if I was to do that, then that is what you would get. So, it doesn’t feel that far off for me because I have all those things in me, that is who I am, a lot of those feelings of anger or jealousy or the feeling of not being loved or proving yourself, being wanted. I have all that stuff, it’s just not coming out on a daily basis because, in life, I like to keep things light for the most part — I like to make jokes all the time, but, deep down, I’m a very serious person who's had to work on anger issues in the past and had to really find balance in how I react to certain situations. The beautiful thing about Guerin is that I can just be the worst parts of me. I can put that on screen because that’s interesting to watch, you know?

C: I’m interested to see you in other stuff. I’m interested to see if your biopic gets made and stuff too, I haven’t seen you in anything else. Or write anything, you know?

M: Well, a lot of people haven’t, which is so funny to me, because I have been doing self-tape auditions right now for movies that are trying to be cast and no idea when production is going to happen, but people are trying to do virtual auditions, trying to fill their cast so that they can go shoot once this pandemic is over. A lot of things I’m auditioning for are comedies, but people are like, “Can he do comedy?” Which is so funny! Comedy is my bread and butter. Comedy is probably what I do better than anything, but people don’t know me as that! They knew me as that initially and that’s why I couldn't even get an audition on "Roswell," because I was the comedy guy, and now I’m, like, the dramatic guy. [Laughs] You always have to prove to people and make them see that you can't be put in a box. It will be very cool for the world to see me acting in other projects and, actually, my first feature film that I produced and starred in called “Five Years Apart” just picked up a distribution deal through an amazing distributor and in the states. We’ve got sales happening in foreign markets right now; we’ve locked up like three territories out of seventeen worldwide and this movie is very special to me. It’s an indie dramatic comedy, pretty much about two estranged brothers coming together over a wild weekend and a very specific incidence happens that forces them together and it’s very funny. It’s a really fun movie. It was a thirteen-day shoot in LA.

C: Wow! That’s not long at all!

M: No, no! It was very quick. We didn’t have a lot of money, you know? A lot of people said that we couldn’t make the movie for double of what we ended up making it for. Everybody who said that to us, these were line producers who have done big, successful movies, and were just doing us a favor with budgeting, and it comes down to that video game mentality again. Oh, you think I can’t make for this much? Okay, watch me make it for half of that and still do a good job! I don’t know, that might be the whole pride aspect — stubbornness, ego or whatever, but I’m very proud of this movie. We won best ensemble cast at the LA Indie Film Fest last year where it premiered and then we recently picked up distribution. Once this pandemic is over that movie should hit screens, hopefully a few theaters, and then some of the streaming platforms. People will see me in a totally different role than Michael Guerin.

C: I can’t wait to see it, that sounds awesome.

M: And then, for the writing, the Mac Miller biopic was the first dramatic screenplay I wrote. It’s funny that the drama that I write gets my writing partner and I all the meetings. We’ve met with some major companies since that script made The Black List, but all the other projects we have are all big studio comedies. We’re even about to finish, here in the pandemic, writing my next movie. We’re about 75% done with that and we’ll have a mob action comedy done within the next few weeks.

C: Oh my god! You’re so productive; it’s insane. It’s so amazing.

M: I just go, go, go, you know? I don’t know if it’s very healthy but it excites me. I live for the excitement. I live for the thrill. I live for the unknown. I was talking to my mom the other day and, I didn’t even know this story, but I guess when we were kids, my sisters and I — if I wanted something, my mom, even before I could really speak, was talking to me, asking questions. She was trying to get me to figure out what I wanted or how to get through a certain situation. If I had a problem with homework and I took it to her, she wouldn’t just do it for me or even just teach me how to do it, she would really push me to figure out how to do it myself. So, I think this feeling that I have really stems from those early days of always having to figure things out on my own. Of course, she would help me if I really, really needed it, but she always made me figure stuff out on my own and I take a lot of pride in that. I like doing that. I don’t know, maybe that’s where the productivity comes or maybe it comes from just not feeling like I’m ever really enough. I don’t actually know, but I know I’ve felt that in certain parts of my life, but I think I’m over that. Yet, the productivity remains.

C: And you can be proud when you make things because you’re actually doing the shit yourself. You’re actually self-made. You didn’t get this stuff handed to you.

M: Yeah, and also, don’t get me wrong, all the work that I do — these are my hobbies. What I do for a living are my hobbies, so I don’t think of it as productivity. I think of it as, this is what I need to do every single day. If I’m not doing something, I feel useless. I’ve had those bouts, and I don’t know if that’s healthy or maybe that is just me. Maybe I am just a born storyteller, that’s what I like to do. I like to sit around with friends, tell stories, hear their stories, figure out the little details that made that story so interesting, and then move on to the next story.

C: I mean, I don’t think it’s necessarily wrong or bad to have a lifeline, especially in a time like that. It’s necessary; it’s what keeps us going.

M: Exactly. At the beginning of this quarantine, we were not writing, we were just figuring out our lives — what are these next few months going to look like? I was depressed. Then we started diving into this script every day and, all of a sudden, I have this purpose again. That keeps me going. That’s definitely helpful for my mental health.

C: I feel similarly about projects. I think I do tie a lot of my self-worth into success or self-defined success which isn’t always great, but it keeps me hustling. I’m never just sitting around like, “Oh, what am I gonna do?” I’m doing the shit that’s in my head and I want to make it happen.

M: There’s something very fulfilling about that.

C: I don’t have sympathy for people who just sit around and don’t know how to start living your life.

M: I know! I used to be that way even more but over the years I’ve realized that people didn’t have parents like I had. My dad was very tough on me, but always pushed me to be the best version of myself — both my parents did. Were my dad’s ways the best ways to do it? I don’t know. If you tell a lot of people how my dad was, they might think there’s some problems there, but guess what? It worked for me. I think about it as these other people who maybe aren’t feeling the same way as I am about productivity, whatever it may be, maybe they didn’t have the drive instilled in them from their parents. Immediately they’re at a disadvantage. It’s hard to judge somebody without knowing exactly how they were raised because I’m really realizing as I get older that that has defined who I am so much.

C: That’s true.

M: I don’t know. I mean, I’m 30 years old now. I turned 30 during the quarantine. I’ve experienced loss in a different way. Swimming up to a body floating in the ocean that you think you’re going to turn over and it’s going to be your buddy just making a goof! Just messing around. Pretending he’s floating in the water and then you turn him around and you realize this is way more serious that I thought it ever could’ve been. Living through a moment like that just makes you feel more and more. A lot of people take a step out of their body and they stop feeling because they don’t want to be heartbroken again or hurt. I’m a little bit the other way.

I kind of step up a little more. I think that getting so deep into that story — it’s a weird story to tell, but when my buddy died in Panama, I was the one that found him. I was an all-state swimmer as a kid in elementary school! Like, fifty-yard freestyle! I was very fast. So I’m thinking to myself, okay, he’s in the water, I’m probably the most capable of saving him, should something actually be wrong. I dove overboard into the ocean and swam as fast as I could into a pool of blood. I found my buddy and it was not a pretty sight. We got his body back onto the boat, got him to the hospital on the island, which looked like a rundown motel in East Hollywood, and he didn't have a chance. And then it’s this group of ten guys, some of us have been best friends forever, some of us just meeting for the first time because, maybe, college friends are involved and invited instead of just the high school buddies that grew up together. How these ten guys banned together and were there for each other to contact the family back in the states, let them know what happened, and go to the U.S. Embassy in Panama, talk to the authorities, the police, the doctors, and really step up. It’s just been an amazing, horrible experience — something I wish on nobody.

But it opened me up a lot and surprised me, especially with my buddies from the Southside of Chicago who I would never, ever in a million years thought would go to therapy. Those are the guys that make fun of therapy, right? Even I did at one point growing up. I thought, therapy? Who needs therapy? And then you go and you realize it’s a really healthy thing! I was really ignorant for thinking anything less than how important it is. But those guys are in therapy now and it’s helping them and I thought that that was such a cool thing to come from that experience. These masculine men who have kind of realized that it’s okay to actually be in touch with yourself.

C: Michael, I’m so sorry that that happened to you and it’s a tragedy that no one should have to experience, but I just want to say thanks for being open about it and being willing to talk with me about it. What you’ve learned from it and how you’ve turned it around and used it in your life and in your art is really beautiful.

M: Thank you. I know my buddy would be very proud, if he’s watching or listening, knowing that I try to make the most out of a horrible situation. That was a lot of what was on my mind during the photoshoot for this and the year anniversary just came up. Sometimes I tell that story and laugh. Such a horrific story but I’m laughing because it doesn’t even seem real! Then I go on a socially distant photoshoot on a trail in the middle of nowhere with Davy; when he asked me about it, it caused me to kind of dive into myself and how I’m feeling. I think a lot of those feelings about my buddy…they didn’t go anywhere, you know? No matter how much I mask them, they didn’t go anywhere. I think a lot of that came in the photos that he took. [Davy] definitely has a special touch for getting the truth out of people.

C: I’m honored that you talked to me about it and that I’m gonna get to show these photos on my website. I’m really thankful and I appreciate you.

M: I appreciate you! I love your interviews, they’re always my favorite. The most raw, organic conversations we can have are what I like and that’s what you do. I appreciate that.

C: Thank you for saying that.

M: Of course.

C: Is there anything else that you wanted to talk about while I have you?

M: I think I should thank anyone who’s reading this that has purchased merch from our second season merch line which just wrapped up a couple weeks ago — thank you so much. We beat our numbers from last year. I thought people maybe had enough merch out of me for once, but we crushed our numbers from last year in just a two week span!

C: That’s amazing.

M: It is so amazing! It’s so cool. I think it’s a big testament to my business partner Jesa Joy, who prints all of my merch and softens every single piece so it feels vintage, one of a kind. People got that merch and it could easily be a gimmicky thing, but instead, we’re really making quality clothes starting with Jesa Joy and that’s keeping people coming back. Hopefully, with how open I am on social media, I think that’s resonating with the fans and they appreciate that so the more I give, the more they give. It’s just this beautiful thing that’s setting me up to potentially have my own fashion line one day, maybe take it from merch to fashion, and that’s a goal of mine for many years down the road. The fact that all of my fans are so supportive and just totally understand my humor and what I’m doing means the world to me. It’s just a really cool thing to see and find success in. Otherwise, I pitched for that TV show, one of my childhood idols, one of the biggest comedic actors of all time, and we’re trying to get him attached to my show. He might say no and that’s totally okay because we got him laughing! He was laughing throughout our pitch yesterday and it felt so special. So, maybe, if we did this interview in a week, I’d have amazing news or maybe I would be bummed out because the guy doesn’t get attached to the show. Either way, it’s been experiences like that, little moments where you’re down, you’re out, you’re feeling depressed, and then you’re making a childhood hero of yours laugh over a zoom pitch. Moments like that have really helped me through quarantine — finding those small, little wins every now and then.

C: The wins are important.

M: And the win isn’t that you win! It’s not the outcome, it’s the process which I always thought was such bullshit. “Trust the process,” and I didn’t want to trust the process! I wanted to make the process! That’s not possible, you know? It’s only possible to a certain extent, you really have to let things play out as they want to and I’m finding the wins in letting things play out the way the universe wants them to.

#michael vlamis #mgv interviews #l'odet 2020 #mgv photoshoot #reflections series #davy kesey 2020 #long post is long

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secret-time-is-here · 4 years

Text

Double stitched - Rewrite

Chapter 18

Previous - First - Next

It wasn’t even a week and he already missed Strings, mornings were rough, knowing he couldn’t wake up to his human. What had this multiverse reduced him to? From a cold souled bastard destroyer to a lovesick basic employee? Maybe it was because of how little he used to understand normal life. Even eating and sleeping were near alien concepts.

Strings was the one who helped him the most, working with him and being understanding, even after Blue. It’s probably what got him so attached, someone willing to work with him and help, understanding that some things would take way longer than others. It didn’t even matter that they shared the true name Error, it was the only thing that made them the same person anymore. Yes they both did knitting and things of that type, but their lives were near wholly different.

Glitch knowing of some past belonging to an AU, but not of where or what that AU is, only that it is long gone. His first experience with the multiverse harsh and unforgiving. Acting out like a child and destroying everything in rage, there was no one left alive to tell him it was wrong to do so. By the time people started to tell him it was wrong, his mind was set in stone. A destiny to destroy worlds as payback. If they can’t be nice, why should he? Monsters and humanity were doomed from the start, no point in letting them all live. Better for the multiverse to be destroyed and give the original a chance to start the multiverse anew again.

Strings have an unknown past as well, but instead of destroying, Blue was able to pull Strings into his grasp early and used him. Strings didn’t learn more destructive magic and barely knows that little code of the multiverse he does through Blue. Whatever past he had marked him physically traumatized even after his memory was wiped clean by the AntiVoid. Escape eventually fell into Strings’ hands and he left, finding Nightmare and soon after Cross. Two best friends to help him through the remembered and forgotten trauma, to help him live a happier life than Glitch could’ve ever hoped for.

Such small changes changing them to such different people, it was a crazy thought. Yet, they could also find solace in each other and even love, not the violence kind, but the emotional kind. Although Glitch would not hesitate to use the violence kind to protect Strings, and Glitch knew that Strings-while he would hesitate-would also fight to protect Glitch.

Glitch could feel Strings begin to charge his magic as he pulled away from the kiss, and as gently as he could, he grabbed his human’s wrist and pulled it back into the embrace.

“I-I’m sORRy,” Glitch hiccuped, remembering the other worries that he had. Of joining JR, betraying his lover in another way, “I had tO jOIn JR… I’m sO sORRy...”

“Shh, yOu’RE finE Glitchy, yOu did what yOu had tO...” Strings’ gentle voice washed over him, calming the destroyer easily. “What aRE yOu dOing hERE?” His human’s voice fell into a more sinister tone, directed towards Ink.

Glitch let a soft kinder smile show in the privacy of the room he was given, his soul still refusing to refer to it as “his room”. His room was with Strings in the serene tranquility of the farmhouse. Where the walls smelled of pine and cedar, the sheets smelled of cheap stolen soap, and everything had the same scent as Strings. When he left the farmhouse, it felt like someone stole his nasal cavity from him. All the sense of Strings gone. JR feeling more like a prison every second. No fun, no excitement, just desk jobs, and boring contracts.

A sudden knocking on the door startled Glitch out of his thoughts, having been staring at the end of his scarf, the little sewn heart that Strings sewed on nearly a year ago now still holding together.

Right, Dream wanted to do more interrogation, for reasons that the winged human was still withholding. Carefully, Glitch wrapped the scarf around his neck, tucking in the side with the stitched heart. He wasn’t going to let Dream know about that, he would fight for his privacy and fight to free the meme squad. He would fight so he could be with Strings again.

He pulled the door open, and just like when he first came to JR, Dream stared through him for a moment. Looking like he wished to ask something, and finally, he did.

“May I ask as to why you are feeling next to nothing but love and loss?”

Glitch froze, unsure of what to do or say, act dumb? Maybe, but Dream can litterally feel his emotions.

“Just… missin’ someone.” Glitch shrugged, rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly.

“I do not mean to pry,” Dream began to walk, the skeleton following along, “But is it someone back home, or in this multiverse? You’ve been radiating these emotions since we rescued you from Nightmare.”

“It’s someone here,” Glitch sighed, “I don’t really have anything back home, aside from a few puppets I guess.” Slowly, the skeleton’s arm wrapped around his side, mimicking comfort. The close memory of Strings’ arms around him sprung to life in his mind as if Strings was walking in place behind him, both of his warm fleshy arms wrapping around Glitch’s cold boney body.

Dream hummed lowly as if this was its own small interrogation, “We… we got together not long before you… rescued me. I haven’t been able to see him since. What does it have to do with anything?”

“It started out as a small bit of friendly teasing,” The boss shrugged, “but I suppose it’s nice to hear that, despite the multiverse, you came from you can still find some happiness. I’m sorry if JR had somehow interrupted that.”

Glitch thought back to that night with Strings, where they cried into each other’s arms and cuddled under knitted blankets and sheets. How they shared their fears as they peppered kisses.

How Glitch feared Strings had moved on, that he wouldn’t be able to find his human ever again, that Strings had forgotten about him, that it truly was a dream and he was just a pathetic narcissist.

How Strings had feared Glitch was back in his multiverse. Sharing the fear and shock Strings had when they were finally able to break into JR and Glitch wasn’t in any of the cells. Sharing how he didn’t want to move on, didn’t want to face what they had thought as the harsh truth that Glitch would be impossible to bring back.

“I was able to find him again… but he had moved on, thinking that I went back to my multiverse.” The lie rolled off his tongues, his voice downcast, easy to say what were his greatest fears now that he knew they weren’t true.

Dream simply nodded, one of his wings resting around Glitch’s shoulders.

“We’re almost to the interrogation room.”

Dreamswap belongs to @onebizarrekai

Underverse belongs to @jakei95

Dream and Nightmare belong to @jokublog

Error belongs to @loverofpiggies

#Undertale #Fanfic #Double stitched #Double stitched chapter 18 #Chapter 18 #Errorcest #glitch x strings #strings x glitch #uv error x ds error #ds error x uv error #Dreamswap Dream #Dreamswap Error #Dreamswap Nightmare #Dreamswap #Underverse Error #Underverse

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littlesliceofmarvel · 5 years

Text

Emotional Journey

Request/Synopsis: Peter helps you deal with a traumatic event.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of blood, violence, death

Pairings: Peter Parker x Reader

A/N: im trying to get these out as soon as I can, my vacation is taking over my time. It’s tough, I’m sorry! Anywho, enjoy! xx

Nights like this were your favorite. When you’d take a day off from working and you could just enjoy exploring the city throughout the day and then enjoying the comfort of your apartment at night - to watch Netflix, of course. You’d run to the grocery store, pick up some snacks you knew you could pig out on, and then cocoon yourself up on the couch and probably watch some stupid rom-com and adding your own commentary track.

You rushed down the snack aisle, picking up some gummy bears and Doritos, throwing them into the grocery cart and making your way towards the cash, hoping to get home before it was dark. You pushed the cart at a dangerous pace, ignoring the glares that people were giving you.

You approached the counter and greeted the short elderly lady with a kind smile, “Good evening!”

She grinned up at you, curly white hair bopping slightly as she did so, “Hello, dear.” She started scanning your items one by one as you took your wallet out, ready to scurry on home and get in bed. You could practically hear it calling to you.

“Movie night?” She asked, eyeing your items as you took out your credit card.

You nodded, “You know me so well, Dolores.” She had been working here for as long as you could remember, and you were quick to discover she was the biggest sweetheart in the world. She told you that you reminded her of her granddaughter who was studying abroad in Europe, so you formed a connection with her immediately.

“I hope you enjoy, dear, I’ll see you soon.” She placed your items in your bag and gave you a smile. You took the bag and smiled back at her, about to reply when the sound of a loud voice cut you off.

“Give me your money, bitch!”

You turned your attention to the direction of the sound, your entire body freezing in place. A man with a black mask stood behind you, a small hand gun pointed in your direction. Fear washed over you as you looked into his dark eyes, his hand slightly trembling as he held the weapon.

“Oh-oh my god,” you stuttered, fingers shaking rapidly as you pulled out your purse to give him what he wanted. You had never been robbed or mugged before, so throwing all bravery out the window, you were going to give him your money.

Everyone in the store started rushing out, screaming and threatening to call the cops, but you couldn’t hear any of it. The sound of your blood rushing and heart pumping took over all of your senses as you pulled out your wallet with shaky fingers.

“Hurry the fuck up, I don’t have all day!” He shouted, bringing the gun closer to your face, the bile rising in your throat nearly making you gag. The thumping of your heart could be felt throughout your entire body and you wished more than anything that this wasn’t real

“H-Here,” you handed it to him and he lowered the gun slightly, taking it out of your hands. He opened it up and threw it on the ground.

“You only have $20?! Fuck that,” he stomped over and turned the gun away from you, making you relax. Until you noticed that the gun was now aimed at sweet Dolores behind the counter.

“Open the register, you old hag,” the man threatened. Your couldn’t think straight, and before you knew it, you threw yourself in between Dolores and the gun.

“Don’t hurt her!” Your voice cracked as you looked the man in the eyes. You regretted jumping in front of the gun, but seeing the look on Dolores’ face when he aimed it at her made you throw logic out the window.

He chuckled darkly, “Then move out of the way so this bitch can open the cash and give me my money.”

You reluctantly moved out of the way, eyes watering as you looked at Dolores who didn’t budge. The man kept his gun pointed at her, and although you could see the fear in her eyes, she held her ground and refused to open the cash register.

“Open it up or I’ll shoot you!” He exclaimed, waving his hand to emphasize his point.

Dolores gave him a sweet smile, “Sorry, dear. Can’t do that.” Alarms went off in your head and everything inside you screamed to run over to her and protect her, but your feet stayed cemented to the floor, not understanding why she wasn’t complying.

The man’s body stiffened and he squinted his eyes, placing his finger over the trigger. The next thing you knew, the deafening sound of a gunshot echoed throughout the store. You clasped your hands over your ears, keeping your eyes shut.

A loud thud sounded on the floor and you opened an eye, looking around to see what it was. Where Dolores was standing, her body was now collapsed on the ground, crimson blood pouring out of the wound on her chest.

“Oh my god,” your voice trembled as you looked to the lifeless body on the floor tiles, “Dolores!”

The man who shot her pulled back in a panic, muttering something about a mistake before he made his way towards the exit. You didn’t look back at him, your blurry vision set on the dead woman on the floor. You heard sudden shouting coming from the entrance but you couldn’t take your attention away from what you were looking at.

“Dolores, p-please wake up,” you shook her body, tears making their way down your cheeks. You felt helpless, defeated, as if you didn’t do enough to save her.

Her death was on you.

You broke down in tears, leaning against the counter to hold your body up. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Why did this happen? She didn’t deserve this. Why her?

“Ma’am, um, is this the man who shot the lady?” You turned around and came face to face with a blurry red and blue figure. You rubbed your eyes with the back of your sleeves and managed to focus on who was in front of you.

You recognized him immediately, who wouldn’t? Spider-Man was the talk of the town. He was all over every news stand and local television channel. He held the man who shot Dolores in a firm grasp, small grunts escaping the killer’s mouth. Anger fled through your body but there was nothing you could do.

“Yes, s-sir,” you stuttered, looking back down to Dolores, her blood pooling almost to your feet by now. You sniffed, trying to hold back tears before turning back to face the hero. He nodded and forcefully dragged the man out of the room.

You knelt down, letting the guilt crumple your body. Everything in you felt like it was shaking, the pounding in your head being the only thing nailing you to reality right now.

You sat in silence for a few minutes, letting yourself try to absorb the situation at hand. You felt completely broken, violated, and shaken to your core. The fault seemed to fall on you. You didn’t carry your cash on you tonight, and because of that, the robber aimed his anger towards her.

“Um, hey,” an unsure voice came up behind you, “I don’t want to force you to leave, but there are medics here to take the body away.”

You turned your teary vision to Spider-Man standing behind you, clear discomfort in his stance.

You nodded, “Yeah, I should probably g-go home.”

Lifting your body off the ground felt like you were lifting a thousand bricks, the counter being your complete support system. Your heart felt heavier than ever, as if it were struggling to keep itself going.

“I’m really sorry,” the masked hero said, lowering his head.

“So am I.”

You followed him out of the store, not being able to look back at the paramedics covering Dolores’ body. As you stepped out into the cool autumn night air, the hero approached you once more.

“They don’t need questioning,” he muttered softly, “Let me walk you home.”

Too tired and distraught to argue, you nodded slowly. The flashing lights of police cars nearly blinded your vision and the dozens of reports already on the scene were giving you a headache - thankfully you turned a corner and went out of sight to head back to your apartment.

The usually busy streets seemed empty, and your steps were slower than usual, the hero next to you making sure to match your pace.

“I’m sorry you had to experience that,” he said quietly. He sounded young, not at all like the 30 year old man you thought Spider-Man was.

You gave him a sad smile, “I left without a scratch. It should have been me.” It was true. You believed that hou should have been the one to take the bullet instead. She has grandkids, family, a husband - you had no one.

The man stopped in his tracks, his head turned towards you, “Don’t say that.”

“What?” You scoffed, the tears stinging your eyes once more, “She didn’t deserve it.”

“She didn’t, you’re right. But it shouldn’t have been you either.” You let his words sink in, processing what he meant. The one thing you were sure of was that Dolores didn’t deserve what she got. At all. But you didn’t think you did either.

“You’re right,” you said softly, “Thanks for, uh, helping out back there.” He nodded, and even though you couldn’t see under the mask, you could tell he was smiling.

The rest of the walk to your apartment was relatively calm. The two of you talked about Dolores’ life. You didn’t feel like it was time to reminisce about her just yet, her death being too fresh, but talking about her seemed to take the blow out of your mind slightly. He asked about how you met her, her grandchildren, and a little bit about your own life as well.

He dropped you off at your place and bid you a goodnight, and despite the trauma that you experienced a little under an hour ago, his company had really helped you stay calm.

You walked into your apartment, flicking the lights on and standing in the middle of your bedroom letting the tears and sobs flow free once again. You crumpled down on your bed, curling into the cold bedsheets and hiding your face from the world. You wished more than anything that this was some twisted, messed up, psychotic dream - but it wasn’t.

You cried yourself to sleep, the usually peaceful dreams being taken over by the gruesome images you witnessed that night.

It had been two weeks since the event, and Spider-Man came by every day to check on you, usually in the evenings. You weren’t sure why he did, being an Avenger and having bigger responsibilities after all, but you weren’t complaining. He’d sometimes come by with goods he picked up from a bakery, knowing you were sheltering yourself away from the world and not taking care of yourself. You got to know who he was, his hobbies, his little quirks and personality traits that made him the respectable hero he was. You didn’t know who he was under the mask, but it wasn’t your business to know.

You had rejected his kindness at first, feeling as if you didn’t deserve it, but he didn’t give up. Every time he’d knock on your apartment window with a Starbucks cup in hand, you’d shut your drapes and leave the room, but you could only ignore his consistent knocking for so long, eventually letting him in and taking what he had to offer. You liked his company and the calmness that he brought you, and you were thankful he decided to stick around.

The nights were the worst. Your dreams were constantly filled with violent images, the person on the other side of the gun changing every night. Some nights, you were the one pulling the trigger. You’d wake up in a cold sweat, trembling, and unable to fall back asleep. No amount of medication or alcohol could lure the dark images out of your head to give you a couple hours of rest.

During the days, you sat on the couch, sometimes staring aimlessly out the window of your small Manhattan apartment. You didn’t eat as much, and you had quit your job to prevent going out completely. The only thing that actually kept you going and stable was the mysterious hero bringing you smoothies or muffins at some point throughout the day.

You didn’t understand why he cared so much about your well-being, surely he dealt with countless traumatized civilians, but he was one of the only things keeping you grounded - and for that, you’d gladly accept his care.

The day was slow, the rain pouring over the grey streets of the city as traffic piled up. You watched from your bedroom window, curled up in your bed as the sound of the rain reminded you of a lullaby, drowning out the voices of Friends on your TV. Your eyes stung, the lack of sleep playing into effect on another lazy Saturday morning.

Your peace was disrupted by the obnoxious sound of the doorbell. Rolling your eyes, you threw the blanket off of you as you made your way across the cold floor to your door.

Upon opening it, you came face to face with a boy about your age. Messy brown hair fell into his face, a small smile on his lips. Your eyes moved down to his hands - a coffee in one and a small brown paper bag in the other. You had never seen this guy before, so the unexpected presence caught you off guard.

Hiding behind your door to avoid showing this stranger the fact that you weren’t wearing pants, he seemed unaware of your state completely and he held that smile on his face.

“I - uh, I think you have the wrong place,” you cocked an eyebrow at him, ready to close the door when he came to the same realization.

He let out a small chuckle, “Y/N, it’s me.”

That voice sounded all too familiar and it clicked instantly in your head. Your eyes widened as you faced the young man in front of you.

“You’re spider man?!” he clasped a hand over your mouth after you shouted it out, pushing you back into the apartment and closing the door behind him with his foot.

“Shh! No one knows who I am!” He whispered, even once the door was closed.

“But you’re spider man! Woah, I didn’t think you’d be like, twelve,” you looked over him once again, realizing how young he actually looked.

“Twelve?” He asked in amusement, “I’m the same age as you. I’m Peter Parker.”

You rolled your eyes and grabbed the bag from him, rushing back off to your room before he could stop you.

“Hey, not so fast,” he rushed after you, barging in once you were safely tucked under the blankets, analyzing the doughnut he had brought you. Sure, finding out your mystery hero’s identity was a big deal, but you didn’t know who he was in reality, so you couldn’t base him off of anything.

“C’mon, talk to me,” he mumbled quietly, taking a seat on the edge of your bed and placing the coffee he got you on the table next to your bed. You shook your head, thankful that his attention had now quickly turned to the heavy rain on the window.

“I like rain,” he said, smiling slightly.

“Me too,” you admitted, taking a bite of the sugary treat, not caring about the grains of sugar falling on your mattress.

“You need to get out of your apartment, it’s been two weeks,” he turned back to you, eyeing you as if you were broken glass being held together by a tiny piece of tape.

You shook your head, “No.”

Peter looked down at the ground, “This isn’t a healthy way to deal with grief.”

You shrugged, not wanting to look into his eyes, “I don’t care.”

You knew that letting yourself fall down this dark hole wasn’t healthy, but you couldn’t help it. Everything reminded you of what happened and any loud noise that happened down below brought you back to the sound of the gunshot.

“Y/N, please, let’s do something. Like a museum or whatever. Something outside of this apartment,” Peter’s face lit up at his own suggestion.

“No.”

“Come on, please?”

“No.”

“Stop being so stubborn,” Peter pouted, making you roll your eyes and throw your head back on the pillow.

“Fine!”

The museum was a breath of fresh air. The two of you walked around, viewing the centuries of art that lined the walls and the sculptures that illuminated rooms. You were a lover of the arts, so it was hard to stay focused on anything when your eyes constantly darted around the room.

Peter found you hilarious, your small complaints about the people with their flashes on to photograph the art, and the noisy kids running up and down the marble corridors. He found your comments entertaining, chuckling after each one.

For once, you found yourself not thinking about what had happened, and you enjoyed your time out of the apartment. You were thankful for Peter having been there for you the past two weeks as a masked identity, but this felt much more real now that you knew who he was.

“Thanks for getting me out of the apartment.” You smiled kindly at him as you took another bite of your pretzel, the sunshine finally breaking through the clouds as the two of you walked through the muddy Central Park.

“Hey, don’t thank me. I’m just glad I could help,” he shrugged, giving you a goofy grin.

“You’ve really helped. Thank you,” you said sincerely, making his cheeks flush a light pink. You giggled, turning back to your pretzel and taking another bite.

You felt a soft hand link with yours and give it a small squeeze before it was gone. You internally screamed, the overwhelming feeling of butterflies in your stomach making you almost vomit.

“Hey, how about we go check out a show tonight?” He asked, eyes lighting up as he viewed a sign for ‘The Lion King on Broadway.’

You nodded like an idiot, “I’d love to.”

There were a few things you were sure of. One, that the sky was blue. Two, that dealing with Dolores’ murder was going to be one of the hardest things you’d ever have to go through. And three, that you weren’t going to deal with it alone.

Peter stuck by you through the following weeks, attending Dolores’ funeral with you and helping you get a new job working with Mr Stark to prevent these things from happening to other people. Your job nearly took over your life from now on, but slowly and surely you put the pieces back together and with the help of Peter, it seemed everything was going to be okay.

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themadlostgirl · 5 years

Text

Tortured

*This is a long one*

Prompt: Y/N is tortured by Hook and Peter helps her overcome her fears regarding it

Requested by: anon

Warnings: language, torture

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Neverland is not a safe place. Not for anyone. You always need to have our guard up. That’s the first thing everyone learns when they come to Neverland. It may be fun and there are no rules but that just means that it doesn’t matter what happens to you. There will be no one to stop the injustice. So you had better be able to look after yourself.

Stop looking over your shoulder for one second, think that nothing can touch you for one moment, and everything goes downhill. That’s how I ended up in my current situation.

I had been taking a walk around Neverland by myself. Humming a tune and admiring the scenery when the horde of pirates descended upon me. I fought but I was outnumbered and one well placed blow had me dizzy and unstable long enough for them to get a sack over my head and ropes around my wrists.

Without any other options I shuffled along with my aching head as I was forced into a row boat and paddled out to sea. I was hauled up into the air and dropped on the wooden planks of a ship. I was on the Jolly Roger. Why though? Why did the pirates bring me here? What use could they have for me?

I was tugged back to my feet and dragged away again. Directions were wonky right now but knew I had been taken far below deck. I couldn’t feel the sun on my shoulders. This is getting worse and worse. I wriggled about trying to free myself from the rough grip on my arms but they held sure.

The pain was subsiding and I had regained my senses enough to fight back harder. I landed a kick on one of them and had wrestled one of my arms free before I was pushed down on something hard. It took many hands to pin me down and keep me tethered to the surface I was forced on.

“Hood off,” I heard a voice say.

The sack around my head had been yanked off. I squinted into the semi-darkness and up into the face of one Captain Hook. I hadn’t had many interactions with the pirate captain but I didn’t need to to know that I was really up a creek now.

“Hello, Y/N,” he said, “I’ll cut straight to the chase. I want information about your demon leader. You can either tell me what you know now before the bad things happen or I force it out of you with the bad things.”

“You gonna torture me, captain?” I rolled my eyes. “I can cope with torture.”

“Thought you would say that.” He pulled out a jug and looked at another pirate hovering on my other side. “Do it.”

A sack was forced back over my head but it was tightened so it pressed flat against my face.

I was ready for a lot of pain. Cut my skin, break my bones, bruise my flesh, I was ready for it all. I could cope with pain. This wasn’t any of that though.

Water was poured over my face--the sack. It clung to my face like a second skin. I gasped for breath but I couldn’t find any. I couldn’t breathe!

I strained and struggled against my bonds with all my might. I need to get out of here! I need to breathe! I can’t breathe!

The sack was yanked back far enough that my mouth and nose were free. I gulped in air, coughing and sputtering as I cleared the salt water from my throat.

“Tell me what you know about Peter Pan.” Hook asked. His voice was too calm for my liking.

“You are an absolute bastard.” I spat.

The hood was drawn back over my mouth and another pitcher of sea water poured over me. I struggled and kicked wrenching my head from side to side in an attempt to escape.

“Tell me what you know about Peter Pan.” Hook repeated.

“Go to hell!”

Another wave of water. I forgot that I wasn’t really drowning.