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bynott · 2 days

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anything for you. theodore nott.

in a universe where voldemort won, you and theo risk everything.

warnings: graphic death

pairing: theodore nott x ron weasley's twin sister!reader

“You can’t possibly love him, y/n. He’s a bloody Death Eater!” your brother had jeered at you. Hot tears ran down your face but you refused to wipe them. You wanted everyone in the room to see how deeply this was hurting you.

“I have never been more sure of something in my life. While you were gone – while everyone was gone – he was the only constant. He isn’t who you think he is.” The room broke out into a chorus of repulsed sounds. The Order of the Phoenix wasn’t much these days, the predominant members being the Weasley family. Harry Potter’s death loomed over everyone. Numerous other deaths piled on: those who died at the beginning of the war, but those who have died recently like your older brothers, Percy and George, and your father, Arthur.

“He thinks we’re scum! He would kill Hermione on the spot. How can you stand there and say this shit?” another brother had chimed in. Voices were starting to overlap the more trapped you felt.

“You’ve never given him or myself the chance to prove that’s not true! If you remember, Theo was the one who told me about everything Draco was doing back in school. He has already given us so much information. He’s climbing the ranks, but he is doing it for us!” you fell to your knees, exhaustion and frustration getting the best of you. “Can’t you see that even if he’s not doing it for all of you, he’s putting his life on the line trying to help secure a world that I feel safe in? You know how my beliefs align!”

“Has he stopped killing innocent people? Does he still partake in Voldemort’s plans that don’t necessarily target us? If he’s climbing the ranks, I can’t begin to imagine what he’s doing to do so,” your mother inquired, shooting daggers at you. You couldn’t look her in the eyes.

“He’s doing what he can to survive, too. If he dies, we will lose so much.” Without missing a beat, you added, “If he dies, I am as good as dead.”

This conversation, over a year old, still rings in your head every time you meet Theo. Your current setup in an old warehouse allowed these thoughts to amplify. The only sounds keeping you from spiraling were the rhythmic tapping of Ron’s foot and Bill’s pacing. You never got to see Theo alone, but that wasn’t a horrible thing.

Though you wanted nothing more than to have one evening alone with him, as selfish as that sounds given the climate of the world right now, the positive came in the form of the people who joined you on these exchanges and started to see through the cracks in Theo’s character. This hardened soldier who bears the Dark Mark turns into someone else in your presence. He is more patient and gentle, as compared to the man that numerous members of the Order have seen slaughter people in cold-bold, just to laugh at their frozen-in-death facial expressions.

You had noticed changes in Theo throughout the last few times you’d seen him. He was much more focused on you than the information they were there to exchange. He’d almost become frantic – dark circles that got darker every time you saw him circled his eyes, and his face had become much more caved in. He was starting to look as though he were actively being tortured. He didn’t look better this time around.

You sprang up from your spot when you heard the metal door grind against the floor, opening quicker than anticipated. Ron and Bill quickly put their wands up and took aim at Theo, refusing to put them down even when you yelled, “It’s just him!” Theo didn’t respond much better, raising his wand and aiming at Bill, who you knew Theo saw as more of a threat than Ron.

“Are you being followed? What made you come in here like that?” Bill growled, eyes flickering between Theo and the entrance. Theo narrowed his eyes at the older man.

“You think I would lead them straight here if I was? If it was just you two, sure. But, I would never do that with her here. Consider yourself lucky,” Theo spit.

“That’s enough. Are you alright?” you stated, briskly walking to your lover. Up close, you noticed faint bruising around his neck, as if he’d been choked. Theo didn’t say anything and instead, kept his eyes locked on the two men standing behind you. “Theo,” you trailed off, putting one hand on his cheek. You searched his eyes for any type of response, but you couldn’t find one.

“You don’t have much time,” he said, only loud enough that Ron and Bill were barely able to hear. You took a slight step back, still close enough that you could hold his hand – the hand that he couldn’t even bring himself to grasp in return.

“What?”

“The Dark Lord knows there’s a mole in his closest circle. He knows you are not dead, despite me telling him you were,” Theo said, finally making eye contact with you. Your mouth fell open and you held his hand tighter.

Theo lost his will to fight at that exact moment, letting his hand holding his wand fall to his side. He pulled you into him and rested his forehead against yours. “He knows you’re the mole?” you whispered.

“Not yet, but I can’t imagine it taking much longer. His eyes are set on Berkshire – thinks he’s gotten scared now that his mother died. I was able to ward him off me for the time being. I told him that I wasn’t the one to kill you, I just saw you get hit with a nasty spell.”

“Come with us before it’s too late, Theo. How many times do I have to beg you? Turn your back on it all. We can keep you protected.” you pleaded, looking back at your brothers for reassurance. Bill shook his head before Ron chose to speak.

“He is not coming back with us. Do you know what kind of target that would place on us? It would be a death sentence,” he spit. “With that Dark Mark, I’m sure Voldemort could summon you back to him at any given second,” he added. You spun around to confront him but Theo was quicker – he grabbed you by the arm and pulled you into him.

“I wasn’t planning on it, Weasley,” Theo said with such spite behind his words that it made you want to cower away from him. He looked down at you, asking you a silent question. You bit your lip in thought, looking over at your brothers.

“Could you guys give us a minute to ourselves? Just stand guard at the door.” With a few grumbles, you were able to convince them to leave. As soon as the door shut, you wrapped your arms around Theo as tight as you could, reassuring yourself that he was here with you and still alive. For how much longer he would be alive, no one was certain.

“You can leave them. Even if you don’t take refuge with us, you can escape,” you pleaded. Theo softly shook his head and pressed his lips to your forehead.

“No, y/n, I can’t. I’m bound to him until one of us dies. I…” he trailed off. You frantically started shaking your head at him and he sighed. “We knew this was going to happen.”

“You might have known. I held out hope,” you cried. Theo grabbed your chin gently, using the other hand to wipe away the stray tears. “Promise me you won’t die.”

“Y/n…”

“Promise me, Theo.”

His response never came. Theo pulled you into him and kissed you so tenderly, that it was beyond out of character for him. You knew this was the end. He softly ran his hands down your sides, over your back, anywhere they could grasp. It felt as though he was trying to remember the exact shape of your body. He eventually tried to pull away, but in return, you softly bit his lip and pulled him back in.

Theo couldn’t bring himself to let go of you. You were intoxicating in a way that no drug or drink could replicate. Not breaking the kiss, Theo hoisted you onto a table that was just behind you. Laying you down on it, he kept kissing you. Along your jaw, down your neck – Theo kissed you anywhere with an exposed bit of skin. You couldn’t stop yourself from crying, to which Theo then kissed away your tears. When he was finished, he pulled you up into a sitting position.

“Love, you are the only thing in this short existence of mine that I’ve ever been sure of. When I die, I can die happily because I knew you. I got to love you.” Theo whispered, his voice cracking as he professed to you. You leaned your forehead against him, looking him straight in the eye.

“Try to survive, Theo, please. For me,” you pleaded. Theo nodded briefly but was interrupted by a banging on the door.

“Hurry up, it’s getting dark. We need to leave,” Bill’s voice called out. Bill and Ron both reappeared in the room, looking at the two of you expectantly.

“We need to leave, and you still haven’t given us what we came for,” Bill sighed. Theo tensed and pulled himself away from you, putting his facade back on as if it were a costume. Part of you wished he didn’t, just so they could see the real him.

“The Dark Lord plans to raid Hogsmeade, again. You need to make sure everyone is evacuated. He doesn’t plan on ever having to raid them again. In two days, if you don’t create a plan, everyone still living there will be dead.”

“And will you be one of the Death Eaters killing those people?” Ron inquired.

“If it means that it keeps me alive, and keeps a steady stream of information coming to you, yes. I have never been unclear with my intentions.” Theo said. He was significantly taller than Ron, forcing the redhead to look up at him as Theo walked closer to him, slowly.

“We don’t have time for this,” Bill said, getting visibly anxious. “We’re leaving,” Bill added, grabbing you and Ron both by the arm.

Everything happened so fast after that – you reached out for Theo, but he backed away from you and you could’ve sworn you saw a tear run down his face. Just like that, you were whisked away, Bill choosing that moment to apparate. You didn’t get to say goodbye; you didn’t get to tell him you loved him for the last time.

Three days later, after their failed attempt at raiding Hogsmeade, you and your family watched in horror as Voldemort was broadcasting yet another round of executions. This wasn’t the first time this had happened – the first time being with his son, Mattheo, a boy you had known in school. You can’t recall the exact reason for his death, but it set a standard. If Voldemort would kill his child in such ways, what would he do to others?

You held your breath as the camera view panned down the small row of people awaiting their death. You felt the wind get knocked out of you when you caught sight of him.

The boy you loved was there, his eyes already dead. His appearance was, somehow, much worse than when you had last seen him. The bruising around his neck that had almost been healed was now back in full display, accompanied by bruises all over his face. He had blood dried around his mouth and nose, and his left eye was so swollen that it looked completely closed. Something told you that death was merciful compared to what he had been put through.

Voldemort rambled on about the first three men, killing them quickly. His smile never failed, especially when he turned to the last victim: Theo.

“Theodore Nott, what would your father say?” He teased. He pulled a wand out of the box that a servant of his carried at his side. Raising it, you recognized it to be Theo’s. Voldemort snapped it in half, causing a slight flinch to radiate off Theo.

“Stupidly fell in love with a dirty blood traitor, one of those Weasleys. He’s acted as an agent for them this entire time, but of course, I knew from early on. We’ve played a brilliant game of cat and mouse, haven’t we, Nott?” Voldemort, again, laughed. Every muscle in Theo’s body was tensed up and he never lifted his face to look at the crowd that had gathered or the cameras broadcasting the event.

Noticing Theo's aversion to looking at the crowd, Voldemort ran his fingers through Theo's hair before yanking it back, forcing him to look up. Theo grimaced but finally looked straight at the camera. His good eye bore through you, sending your heart straight to the bottom of your stomach.

You started sobbing, sliding off the couch and crawling towards the hologram showing the entire scene. “Please,” you gasped. Hermione sat behind you, pulling you into her, but you fought her off.

“You were special to me,” Voldemort sighed and raised his wand. You grabbed whatever was closest to you – in this case, a plate someone had been eating off of earlier – and threw it through the hologram. The sound of your sobs and the plate exploding against the wall ricocheted around the hideout.

Another one of your older brothers, Charlie, moved Hermione aside and restrained you. Without doing so, you would’ve hurt yourself or someone else. “Get off me,” you repeatedly screamed, thrashing around on the ground.

Charlie was able to hold you in place on the ground, holding you facedown on the carpet with your arms pinned behind your back. To your horror, you turned your head to the side just in time to see a green light encase Theo in its grip.

The cry you let out was movie-worthy. Using all of your strength, you burst out of Charlie’s grip and jumped up, turning on your surviving family members. “He died for us. He died for us and our cause. You never gave him a chance and never wanted to offer help in return,” you sobbed. Hermione came back to your side and held you in her arms.

You didn’t fight back this time. You sat in her arms and sobbed. You couldn’t stop sobbing as you looked back at the hologram and it was panned to Theo’s dead body. It zoomed in on his face as if to hurt you even more. You watched as Voldemort whispered a simple charm, and flames consumed Theo’s body.

“I hope the Weasleys watching this enjoyed the show. While you watched this we have surrounded your hideout. Even Nott’s Occlumency he worked so hard on for you couldn’t keep me out. Perhaps it’s good that you never trusted him with your exact location, or else this would’ve happened long ago.” Voldemort smiled, and the hologram shut off. There was no noise in the room other than your silent sobs.

Then, the first window exploded.

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canisalbus · 1 day

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kinda going off of what you said in the tags of a recent ask, of how you've been worrying about being self-centered by just drawing for you: please keep doing it. it's one of the biggest reasons i managed to dig myself out of a long art slump, because all of the vascheteposting was just so full of joy, and enthusiasm, and love for your characters and the world youve built around them... it reminded me of why i started drawing in the first place. it helped me shoved aside the critic in me that kept saying "no, that doesn't look right, that needs to be better, you can't show that to people you're a disgrace you need to make that perfect" and just have fun drawing my own silly little guys again. so if you worry about drawing too much of the same thing, or about being self-centered... please remember that it brings others joy. your followers are here because they want to see what you make. thank you for letting us into your world, sincerely - it means a lot to me.

#thank you for taking the time to tell me that #that was very kind of you #on a conscious level I know that it's entirely within my power to just focus on my silly little characters #and that a lot of people follow me specifically because of the vascheteposting #sometimes I just get these irrational doubts heh #answered #anonymous #I hope your silly little guys are doing well #give them my regards

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tadpoles-and-daydreams · 2 days

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A ramble on imposter syndrome and the accessibility of witchcraft

So, I’ve been thinking. I think a lot in case you haven’t noticed. Specifically, I’ve been thinking about the major imposter syndrome I’ve been feeling lately in regards to this blog. TL;DR is at the bottom of this post.

People have been, occasionally, sending me asks requesting my opinion on things/how I do things/what I know about XYZ topic. If you are one of these people, I promise I’m not vagueposting about you in particular- in fact, I love these questions! They’re so fun to get and they actually make me sit and think sometimes, or even encourage me to write out something that I’ve been meaning to for my book of shadows. Genuinely, they're wonderful asks to receive. These questions have made me confront something, however; my blog is still small, but some people actually like what I write and value my opinion even if just a little.

I feel like a mimic hiding in the witchcraft community. I feel like, were people to truly understand my experiences, they would want to “expose�� me for knowing so little.

So I sat down with those feelings and turned it over in my head and I’ve come to a conclusion. The fact is, I don’t do research. At least- not what I think of when people talk about research. My "research" consists of the occasional rabbit hole I go down, one and two halves of different books I never finished under my belt, what I see scrolling through various social medias, and conversations I've had with other witches. I check to make sure I'm not stepping on the toes of any closed practices- in fact, that's what most of my energy goes to when it comes to research. This isn't a complaint; I'd much rather know that my craft isn't appropriative.

But I don’t know much about mythology, even that of the deities I work with. I don't even remember the holidays and what they're for. I thought Nyx was an Egyptian deity until like four months ago because I'd just heard her name in passing as a child and had never looked into the mythology... Even though I mainly work with the pantheon she belongs to. Y’all, I’ve done like three spells that I remember. My book of shadows is a messy disaster and I love it but it's got so little information in it, because I rarely write things down. Most resources (especially mythology resources) are academically worded or difficult to read for me personally, and all of these things feel like secrets I have to guard with my life because if I were to ever say them aloud, people would know I'm a fraud.

Today I've come to the conclusion that that is, in fact, absolute bullshit.

Maybe it's not, maybe this post will make some people really upset, but in my practice it's bullshit. All of the above is a result of my ADHD and the fact that I am nothing if not a hands-on learner. My craft is mostly my own experiences because that's how my whole life is; I learn by doing. My ideal learning style is sitting with another autistic person whose special interest is whatever I'm learning about and just talking for five hours, but if that's not something I can do, puzzling it out myself is the next best thing. That's what I've been doing ever since I felt had a basic foundation for my craft. Hell, even before I had a foundation I was putting my own experiences into my craft because "Well that rule just doesn't fucking vibe with me."

This post is mostly for me, but partially for anyone who feels similar. We are not broken or doing witchcraft/paganism wrong. We are simply what happens when the kid who could never do homework ends up practicing the "religion/spirituality that comes with homework." Witchcraft and paganism, in my experience, is far from accessible when it comes to the typical image of it. UPG is what makes it accessible. So yes, my practice is heavily UPG, and I don't do as much research as I think people have assumed. But I'm going to let go of the idea that I'm a fraud, because frankly I know enough about witchcraft to have supported my practice this whole time and my deities haven't smited me yet so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

TL:DR:

Fuck the rules, I don't do much research. I've researched the "basics" and what I need to so I'm not stepping on any toes of closed practices, but people seem to think I know way more than I actually do. I've felt like I was lying this whole time but frankly witchcraft just isn't accessible to someone with my flavor of auDHD, so my craft relies heavily on UPG and I've decided that I'm not broken or wrong for that and neither is anyone else. I'm tired of seeing myself as an imposter just because I make my practice doable for me.

#I feel weird about posting this but Loki seems thrilled #of course he is though #“fuck the rules” energy is their whole deal #Frog's writing #shit did I use caps in my previous posts?#Frog's Writing #frog's writing #there we go now it doesn't matter lol #witchcraft #witchblr #pagan witch #pagan #witch community #paganism #deity work #eclectic pagan #paganblr #witch blog

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amerricanartwork · 1 day

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Hi! I just wondered if you've played Hollow Knight based off how much you like Rain World. I'd be interested in any thoughts you had on it. :)

Thanks for the ask! No, I have not yet played Hollow Knight, BUT my interest in the game has been piqued! However I still have to see if the gameplay itself seems up my alley, or get invested enough in the characters that I want to discover more than I've already found out (and I have spoiled quite a lot for myself) before I actually decide to buy the game.

Regardless, from what I do know it does seem like an interesting story, albeit one far more tragic than Rain World's in my opinion. The characters I've seen are also pretty cool, both in design and personality. In fact, it was some ship fanart I found a few weeks ago that got me interested in diving deeper into the game once I realized it was where the featured characters were from, especially since one of the characters I had remembered hearing about before.

Here's a little sketch of some characters I was thinking about and whom I've been meaning to draw for a bit! Hornet because she's very Shaped™, Quirrel because from what I've seen he's quite wholesome, and Tiso because he was the first character I heard about and I think he's kinda silly!

Also, some more comparing/contrasting thoughts about the game below:

Firstly, I like how the premise of Kollow Knight involves anthropomorphic insects! It's something I never realized until recently despite being aware of HK for at least a few years, but I usually tend to take interest in stories starring non-humanoid creatures, so it's a plus! I also enjoy the more gothic/Victorian-looking magical high fantasy aesthetic, though it's pretty different from Rain World, which I'd consider far more sci-fi and specbio-esque in its aesthetic.

Now to get into themes, so far Hollow Knight seems to share Rain World's theme of lost/dead civilizations, which is also a very interesting premise to me! However, HK seems to have a greater focus on interacting with the people of its dying civilization and as such you get far more definitive knowledge about what happened to cause it to collapse. The player character seems to take on more of a classic epic hero role, because from what I've heard about the lore and endings, they end up directly influencing the fate of Hallownest, even potentially destroying or defeating the force that caused its ruin. The visuals have this very dark, cool tint overall to sell that gloomy, mournful vibe, and the structures, while presumably old, are still mostly smooth, ornate, and not super deteriorated, with these castle or manor-like appearances more similar to real-life buildings or things in other high fantasy works. Then, the orchestral music I've heard alongside all of these elements really creates this impression in me that it's aesthetic and overall concept is more akin to a high fantasy epic tale, albeit a rather tragic one.

Meanwhile, Rain World seem to have the player take more of an anthropologist role, observing and trying to piece together the story of vast remnants of its dead civilization, which seem alien and impossibly complex because so much of the history they're from has been lost to time. One of the core themes is being very small compared to these long abandoned structures, to really sell the idea that this history is so much older and more intricate than you'll ever know. The colors of Rain World are often warmer, which can be associated with old things, and the structures are far more weathered and broken down, with the only living survivors of the people who made them being the iterators, whom we only get to hear directly from two of. Combined with the focus on simulating an ecosystem, the more directly religious ideas within, the themes of natural cycles and an entire civilization evolving, changing, and ultimately disappearing over deep time, and the overall alien, sci-fi industrial designs of the architexture and strange creature designs that look like things out of "Of Rust and Humus" or some other alien speculative biology worldbuilding project make RW fit well in with that genre of fiction in my opinion.

Sorry if I seem like I kinda took a sudden shift there, but I wanted to talk about this contrast in artistic aesthetics and story genres for a moment because the "lasting impression" an art piece creates something I've recently concluded is pretty important overall in works of art, at least for mine!

But anyway, I hope these thoughts were satisfying for now! Thanks again for the ask!

#ask #inbox #art #artwork #drawing #sketch #digital #digital art #fanart #hollow knight #quirrel #hk quirrel #hornet #hk hornet #tiso #hk tiso #quetzalli draws #quetzalli answers

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lunajay33 · 1 day

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Taste for Older Men Part.2

•⚰️🍂🍑•

Summary: Growing up with you never had much interest in boys your age but when your dads best friends stuck around more everything changed

Pairing: Cowboy Negan x f!reader

Warnings: age gap, evil boyfriend

Part.1

•Masterlist•

It’s been a week since everything happened, my parents have been extremely over supportive always, when I’d come down for breakfast they’d have wide smiles and cheery voices but I couldn’t hate them for it they’re just trying to make me feel better even though I was already happier than I’ve ever been in my life

I still work everyday at Negans farm but my parents still don’t know that we’re together and we’re not quite sure how to tell them, I mean he’s my dads best friend and I don’t want to ruin that but I also can’t give up Negan he’s all I’ve ever wanted so there’s got to be a way

I was in the barn pitch forking up some loose hay when I feel Negans arms wrap around my waist

“You know if I was gonna get more help around here I’d have told you my feelings way earlier” I laugh as I lean back into his chest

“Watch yourself lil lady I’m still your boss remember”

“Oh I remember” he spins me in his arms resting my hands on his shoulders

“So how do we tell my parents I don’t want to sneak around I want to be able to be with you when we’re around other people”

“I know sunshine, old man invited me over tonight to watch football might tell him then, and you can talk to your mother” I feel nervous about this but it needs to be done

“Hopefully they don’t rip my head off”

“If they’re going that route it’ll be me they rip apart” me smiles as he leans down to kiss me his grey speckled beard scratching against my face but it was something I craved when he wasn’t around

“Come on let’s finish up our chores before you get carried away like last time” I laugh as he groans

I got home early as Negan let me off to get ready for tonight and go through everything I want to say to my mom, he wanted that time too he had more to worry about but my father is an understanding man I just home he can understand this too

I stripped off my dirty work clothes and hoped in the shower, relaxing as the dirt and sweat from the day washed away down the drain, after I was all squeaky clean I got dressed in a casual pair of black leggings and a red long sleeve shirt, putting two braids in my hair then waiting on my bed anxiously

After another hour I picked up my phone and dialed Negan, after two rings I hear his voice and everything seemed to not be as stressful

“Hey baby ya alright?”

“Yeah I’m better now, just nervous”

“Don’t stress honey I’m on my way over now, we’ll get this settled” he said with a calming tone

“Okay I’ll see you soon”

We hung up and I made my way downstairs sitting at the kitchen island waiting to hear the rumble of his truck, soon the headlights shine through the window and he’s knocking at the door

I want to rush to the door and through my arms around him but contain myself and let my dad answer, Negans technically his guest anyways

“Negan! You excited for the game buddy?” My dad asked cheerfully as he patted him on the shoulder

“You bet, I meet you in the lounge soon I’ll go say hi to your wife and y/n!”

“Always with the southern hospitality!”

Negan rounded the corner and came into the kitchen where me and my mother sat I couldn’t help the huge smile that stretched my cheeks

“Negan so wonderful to see you again, last time was a bit crazy” I looked down a little embarrassed by that whole fiasco

“Lovely to see you too, and of course my dear little farm hand” he said brushing his hand down my back out of my mothers gaze making my skin chill

“Oh Negan she’s still behaving well isn’t she?”

“Mother of course I am”

“Don’t worry she’s always a great help, got myself a lil working lady”

I look up at him with so much joy and admiration before my mother clear her throat and snaps us out of our moment

“Well here’s two beers, better get in there before he makes a big deal about us stealing you away again” she laughed handing over the beers and began left the room

I look back at my mother who had a knowing look on her face, raised eyebrow with a slight smirk

“What?”

“I’m not stupid sweetie, I’ve seen the way you looked at him since he started coming around, only recently he’s been giving you the same look soooooo you have something to tell me dear”

“Don’t be mad, what I feel for him is real, how he treats me really show how badly Mike treated me and how much Negan treats me like a goddess, he’s a good man”

“I’m not mad, I’m glad you found a man who can treat you the way you deserve, hopefully your father will look at it the same way”

I down now we wait to either hear a fight or Negan comes out smiling

“WHAT?” I hear from the lounge, oh no

I rush into the lounge seeing my dad up in Negans face and he looked more betrayed than angry

“Dad, calm down it’s okay”

“How is this okay my best friend with my daughter”

“I love her f/n” he went silent and so did I this was the first time Negans declared his love

“You love me?” I ask as I step closer

“Of course I do, you’re a wonderful woman every moment with you I feel more happier and at ease than I’ve ever been”

“I love you too sunshine” I lean up to wrap my arms around his neck and he held me tight

“F/n, you know Negan and he’ll treat her right compared to that excuse for a boyfriend she had before” my mom said then hearing my dad sigh

“I know it’s just a lot to wrap my head around, when did this happen?”

“The day we had the barbecue, he came and made me feel better about everything that happened and well our feelings just came out”

“I mean me and your mother knew how you felt about Negan it was pretty obvious, I guess I can eventually get use to this”

“My god was it that obvious?” I ask looking up at Negan and he had a sly smirk

“You didn’t make it sneaky when you’d look at me darlin”

Taglist: @azanoni @scorpioempress @fanficwriter5 @elliesr1fle @imimatcha4life @indigosparkle444

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misscammiedawn · 2 days

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You may have discussed it before, but would you mind speaking a little bit on how you discovered you have DID?

I feel like I have a pretty stable core identity but there have been times under intense stress where I’ve experienced sudden “switches” in my personality. During a particularly bad period for a little over a year there was a time where I distinctly felt like a different person and did things I wouldn’t normally do, and I remember the specific moment where I came back into my body and became “me” again. This doesn’t happen often, but it has happened more than once throughout my life. When I see people talk about plurality I feel a little confused because their identities often seem to have their own names and genders and ages and backstories, and it seems so cut-and-dry.

I know these are all things to discuss with my therapist but I love how you talk about your own experiences. How can you differentiate between DID and other kinds of dissociation?

Thank you for asking, anon! I'm glad you are going to talk to your therapist about it while also doing the reading and reaching out-- heaven knows our own journey within the US mental healthcare system was rocky at best. The latest chapter of Madison/Belladonna is heavily sourced from IRL circumstances both in receiving the diagnosis and the decades long journey in the mental healthcare system to get there.

But to answer more directly-- (as always we are answering from a psychopathology lens for care and treatment, we recognize the beauty of plurality and do not reduce ALL experiences to mental healthcare concerns, we are approaching our own situation and experiences this way as it is how we lived it)

Our journey was guided from the outside. Both therapists and our partner who was able to see these "mood swings" in us were able to gently guide us to water despite our fierce denial and rejection of our situation. What started as "we're fine" turned to "mood swings" turned to "BPD" turned to "---maybe we should read up on OSDD?" Turned to our current therapist telling us over a year ago that we had DID after months of testing and interviewing to determine.

I should also note I likely realized it MULTIPLE times in my history and buried it again and again. I legitimately think that people in my former life knew and either assumed I knew too or worse I had told them and forgot that I told them. It worries me because I cannot ever be certain. I once asked my ex-wife about it after the divorce/diagnosis and she did say it was weird how she had a "different husband" depending on environment and social group. She said she never noticed it during the interactions, but she would always think back and feel that the "me" in any given moment was different from the ones she observed in social/work situations etc.

So like--- even if people notice, sometimes they don't even realize what they're seeing. Honestly I go full No Mask at work even when a male part fronts and no one really bats an eye. I don't think *most* people are as observant as we worry they are.

ANYWAY! Looking back these are the signs that I ignored:

- I not just wrote a consistent journal through every phase of my life (even going as far as to have a "memory list" that I populated "when I felt like it" (<- IE: when a part that associated with the memory was fronting and wanted to type about it) and more importantly I READ it. Often. I sometimes think that the majority of our memories are just imagined versions of what we wrote. That notion is helped by the fact we [used to] stop journaling during times of crisis or delete journal/chat log to prevent us thinking about distressing things.

- I wrote a lot of plural characters in my stories since my teenage years. Kinda like I kept writing female versions of myself? Funny how the Trans and DID acceptance arcs are so dang similar.

- I would emotionally cave in on myself after gatherings, berating myself for how I had acted all evening. Getting deeply upset at how "out of control" I was. We outright AVOID mood altering substances like alcohol or weed.

- When talking about traumatic memories we typically just tell the story rote. It doesn't bother us. We told therapists without batting an eyelid. This is dissociation. We were disconnecting ourselves from our memories. Emotionally distancing ourselves from the experiences.

- In the same vein, when we remember things we imagine things in locations like a 3rd person camera. Not populated. We don't hear or feel or associate. It's just a place and a knowledge. Our whole "context packet" thing where we just understand something without *feeling* it.

- Deleted emails and chatlogs, references to things we don't remember. Discord messages with people we don't remember talking to. It bothers me how many people in our online communities we were actually close to at some stage of our life and then erased. This is specific to us but Dawn has opened many accounts in the hypnokink community and Camden has shut them down and this has happened so many times that we don't even get upset when we find a buried email from 2013 with sign-up to a Yahoo Email account we don't remember having. That sounds dramatic. It's more just. Go into your emails, pull stuff up from 5-10 years ago and just scroll a while. See how much you remember and associate into. It's NORMAL to forget what websites you were browsing a decade ago. It's not normal to have an entire *LIFE* you hid from yourself.

- Sometimes people just... saw/knew us before we did and there were times when they would describe a version of us they weren't supposed to see and we got complete dysphoria over it. Sometimes it as joyful. Someone we love saw Cammie well enough to say when we transitioned that they wanted to see that "windswept girl with the big smile" all of the time. Sometimes it's mortifying, like when someone approaches Camden as if she is Dawn and Camden REJECTED that side of us so heavily that it caused emotional meltdowns and turmoil because Camden didn't WANT to be a sexy confident domme, she could barely see herself as a woman, when people saw the wrong version of us *without permission* it was just a violation that made things WORSE.

- On that note-- meltdowns-- we mentioned the whole "after a social gathering we'd emotionally cave in on ourselves" thing, there was a lot of that. After work we'd get a complete drop from having to be in Manager Mode all day or we'd have a crisis after erotic intimacy encounters because we're sex repulsed ace. The fact is our nervous system was activated during those times, our survival instincts were kicked in and brought the part associated to the surface to DEAL and when they backed off our body was still reacting to the trauma trigger and it would cause us to implode.

All of these things in therapy brought us to the conclusion of BPD. Because therapists be like that at times. A *TRAUMA* therapist gave us some DES-II, MID and ACE tests and worked out what was going on within 3 months.

It took a further 6-9 months with constant support from loved ones who were able to see us as individuals to *ACCEPT* it. This is a denial disorder, it doesn't want to be found. Asking questions, being honest and being accepting is the best way to come to terms with it. I wish it were easier and I wish you luck and support in your journey. Our inbox is always open!

You're not alone <3

#cammie asks #DID #dissociative identity disorder #watch me post my trauma in public

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crazycookiemaniac · 1 day

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You know what? If anyone is concerned as to why I don't have a "real" job like most people, not that I owe anyone any explanation, I guess I should talk about this a bit. So, to anyone who cares:

First off, finding a job is not as easy as it seems. There is so much more than just handing in a curriculum, being interviewed so you can then, maybe, get hired. What about your experience? What about your confidence? What about your knowledge? And so on forth.

You can't just find a job because you want to. And, as a matter of fact, not everyone wants to work for companies to make the rich even richer, anyway.

I grew up being very naive. I never paid attention to what happened around me. I could barely make friends due to a bunch of circumstances that I don't think is necessary mentioning here, but I've always been a very lonely person, deep down.

I remember clearly watching my mom do the math on her notebook to see if the money she got was going to be enough for the month. I remember clearly how much I wanted to help her pay the household bills, and one of the first things I did when I turned 16 (age I could legally start working with my parents' permission) was try to become an English teacher at a small English school that was pretty far from home. The owner of the school, who said I was "undergoing training" to teach according to the school's method, never gave me a single penny for over a month that I wasted working for free until I realized he was using me and quit.

And then I kept trying. And trying. And trying. Worked for almost 4 months as a cashier at a retail store, worked as an eyebrow designer for almost 2 months, tried several different university courses, as well as other short courses over the time. I kept trying to find myself in anything and everything at the same time. I could never stay at one place for too long.

Meanwhile, during all these years... ever since I was around 12... I've never stopped drawing.

Art is the one and ONLY thing I've never given up on. Art is something I love so much, I've never wanted to even think about selling it because I firmly believed that what's made with love should be shared and not sold. But life made me realize that I didn't belong anywhere that didn't have a paper and a pencil.

Art is what I do. It's the only thing I can do. Christ, it's the only thing I LOVE to do. And even though I would love to have a second job, to learn more things... I don't have the confidence I can do anything else.

I've grown to know that I have ADHD, Bipolar disorder, and OCD. Since the end of 2020, my mental health severely deteriorated, and I had to go to a mental hospital in 2021 and 2022, as well as I had to go to a part time hospital in 2023. Because of everything that went on, my financial situation got really bad, so I've been trying to pay everything off with what I gain from commissions and donations I eventually get.

See, you don't have to like me. Feel sorry, much less. But some people need to understand that some things are just not as easy as it seems. Everyone walks their own path in life. I'm walking down mine. It's hard, not just for me but for everyone, but I'm doing what I can.

I'm not proud to ask for help all the time. I wish people would only commission or donate to me because they like my work, and not because they feel sorry. But I don't have any other choice. My family can't help, so I have to do what I can.

So, please. Try to understand that I'm doing the best I can.

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mysilaan · 2 days

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Hi!! Could I request some headcanons for Thomas (MCL NG), when he starts falling in love with Candy/Ysaline? 💕 Thank you

I had a hard time imagining it ‘cause… I DON’T KNOW ??? So I just decided to write some kind of ‘chapter 2’ of my last Thomas headcanon ⭐

(note : if you want to read the part.1, there's a "mcl ng headcanons" category on my blog to find it more easily)

THOMAS MCL NG HEADCANON PART.2 🍒

⭐

As promised, after a long day at work, Thomas was waiting for you in order to give you a ride on his motorbike. You had to admit that you spent most of the day thinking about this long-awaited evening. You joined your colleague at the exit and greeted him with your best smile. “I hope I didn’t make you wait too long.” you asked. “It’s okay.” You were now used to Thomas' way of ‘making conversation’; you remembered how impolite you found him when you first joined Devenmentiel, but you eventually ended up understanding that it was not in his intention to be rude: it was just the way Thomas was. When you finally reached his motorcycle, he opened the trunk and handed you a black helmet as he put his on. You thanked him and put it on your head properly… or you thought so… Thomas’ hands approached your face without any warning. You stepped back a little, startled at first, but accepted it when you realized he just wanted to tighten the straps correctly. “Oh… Thank you.” The moment was a bit awkward as Thomas scrutinized your face to see if your helmet was on properly without saying anything. “We’re good.” he finally said. He hopped on his bike and gestured for you to do the same. You slid behind him and put your hands around his waist, which made him tense up a little. “Sorry! Do you want me to put my hands somewhere else?” “No, it’s fine… Which restaurant did you choose to go to?” “Oh, right !” You almost forgot to give him the address. Once you did, you both were ready to ride through the city. Feeling the motorcycle growl beneath you was absolutely thrilling, and as you finally started moving, the adrenaline filled your head. Thomas wasn’t riding too fast, considering he had a passenger, but he was still going at a thrilling speed to your delight. It wasn’t the first time you were riding a motorbike with someone, but the sensation was always the same: it was liberating and immensely soothing. You were even slightly disappointed when you parked up in front of the restaurant. As the two of you took off your helmets, Thomas was about to ask you what you thought about the ride, but seeing your ear-to-ear smile was answer enough. He smiled to himself, satisfied that you liked it, which you decided to express verbally anyway. “It was insane! I absolutely loved the sensation! I’m tempted to get my license and buy one myself now…” “Why don’t you?” he asked honestly as you were heading in the restaurant. “Uhh... Lack of time? Or will… I don’t really know. It's something I always wanted to do but never had the courage to. Watching other people is cool, but once I'm in control, I find it pretty terrifying... Same for cars, that’s why I still take the bus,” you laughed.

The conversation paused as a waiter led you to your table and gave you the menu, but Thomas continued it anyway. “I understand it seems scary, but at the beginning, you have instructors all around you. Once you understand how it works, it's easy to trust yourself.” “Yeah, I know… But the hardest part with these things is taking the first step.” Thomas simply nodded, his eyes were fixed on an invisible point, he was deeply thinking about something but his attention quickly went back to you. During the dinner, you had the chance to talk about things other than work with Thomas. It was mainly about motorcycles at first, but the subject ended up drifting away, and you found more interests in common to talk about. You listened to him talk about his passion for hacking things, with that rare spark in his eyes that always appeared when he talked about something he liked. In return, he listened to you talk about your hobbies with genuine interest. It felt nice having someone listen to you without being judgmental. You left the restaurant, knowing a little more about each other and wanting to know even more. It was a strange feeling, as if your mind were connected at that moment and that, without talking, you were telling the other that this won't be the last time you’d go out together. Something even scraped the back of your mind. Could you consider this a date? But you chased away the thought, blushing a little, hoping that the red-haired man beside you didn’t notice. When you approached the motorcycle again, Thomas didn’t get on immediately. “Hey, would you like to try riding it?” You thought you didn’t hear well. “What?” “You said you were hesitant to get one yourself. If you’d like to try and see how it feels, you can. I’ll still help with the controls, of course; I wouldn’t want you to wreck my bike.” Was it okay for you to accept? But before you could weigh the pros and cons, you nodded and approached the bike. “Your helmet.” Thomas reminded you before doing anything. You put it on, the right way this time, and hoped on the bike once again, but on the pilot seat this time. It felt so weird… Thomas sat behind you, leaning on you a bit to show you the commands. “Here you have the brake lever, and you press here to start the bike: it’s the starter pedal.” You listened intently to his instructions and looked up at the nearly empty parking lot in front of you. All you had to do was to go straight ahead, with Thomas’ help on top of that, but you were so scared to mess it up. “Keep your hands firmly on the handlebars, and like when you learn to ride a bicycle, watch straight ahead.”

His voice was calm as always, yet firm. He was really involved in his improvised role as motorcycle instructor. He continued to explain to you many other things, and you suddenly became aware of how close your bodies were, he was almost leaning over you, but wasn’t even noticing. “Are you listening?” “Yes! Yes… sorry, I am… I’m just a little nervous.” “There’s no need, I’ll make the most of it, just try to hold the handlebar well.” “Alright.” You firmly grabbed the handlebars as if your life depended on it (which it did, in a way), and it felt like you were back in your younger days, learning to balance on a bicycle, except this one had a motor. You startled a little when Thomas’ hands wrapped yours, for safety reasons… “Let’s go.” he finally said, making the vehicle move forward. You weren’t going fast at all, but it was already quite hard to maintain the handlebar still and go straight ahead without damaging anything; thankfully, Thomas’ strong grip over yours helped to avoid any unnecessary accident. When he braked the motorcycle after a few meters, you let out a relieved sigh. “Wow… It’s definitely harder than it seems. It was great though!” You couldn’t see Thomas’ face behind you, but you could swear you felt him chuckle a little against your back. “I can’t say you did well but I hoped it gave you the will to learn now.” “Thank God I know you… If it had been me before, I would never set foot on a motorcycle again!” you joked. “Sorry.” Thomas was sorry? Now that was unusual. “I was just joking, don’t worry!” He didn’t answer, but knowing him, he probably just nodded. You got off the bike to give Thomas his place back, and took yours behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist one more time. The ride back to your house was as thrilling as the one to the restaurant, but the mood had changed a bit. The air around you was chilly, yet you couldn’t help but feel warm against Thomas. Despite the city being filled with motor and honking noises, you were in your own bubble, shared with the man in front of you, shutting out any noise coming from outside. It felt like you were on a different planet. Letting him go of your embrace made you cold all of sudden, a shiver ran down your spine, but you had to accept that it was the end of your little trip. You handed back his helmet to Thomas, and offered him a sincere, gratifying smile. “Thank you for tonight… You didn’t have to do all that, but I’m thankful you did.” When you said that, something changed in Thomas' attitude but you couldn’t say exactly what. “You’re welcome. It was… nice?” You chuckled softly, knowing it was the best he could express his feelings. “Yeah, it was nice.” you repeated “Get home safe, thank you again. I’ll see you tomorrow!” You waved him off and headed home.As you searched for the right key to unlock your door, Thomas waited silently without moving. He was thinking that he’d like having other moments like this with you. He liked your presence and talking about anything with you. It really felt nice, but he couldn’t say why. When you finally opened your door and waved one last time at him, he watched you close your door, thinking that he was really looking forward to seeing you tomorrow.

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fling-graysons · 1 day

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Birsflash angst could be so much better if it was treated as exes.

Imagine Dick cuddled up by himself after a mission where he wasn’t allowed to thrive, an arguement with Bruce and missing the flashing lights and cheers of the audience. He’d be lonely. No one to share the loneliness till Wally comes knocking on his door and he lets him kiss him. Not even to feel loved but to feel wanted and acknowledged to then have this go on continuously and without definition so when Wally just stops then it’s extra confusing because what were they? They weren’t dating but they were everything to each other so how do you move on when you don’t know what you’re moving away from?

Now it’s just awkward because they will do anything but talk about it. Feelings are hard and they’re great as friends, better even but sometimes in Dick’s hardest moments or Wally’s they can feel themselves slipping back into it. They can feel that same love bleed back out only to make them remember what used to be then pull away from each other even harder because they know better than to allow themselves to do that. They are adults now that have to make adult decisions.

These ideas are much more chewy.

I've been here for a long time but this is the first time I found myself answering an ask so I feel like this

Anyway

HECK YEAH I LOVE THE FLAVOUR UGHHH

I too see their sexual tension and can't help but ship them.

I fucking love their kinda awkward dynamic where they don't see each other for a lot ton of time. Sometimes they don't even acknowledge the things they've been through when they didn't see each other but they don't esitate to defend the other and keep calling the other their best friend.

I always think about how Dick and Kori stayed at Wally's house after that wedding fiasco, how Dick got offended when Wally first came to Hal to ask for help and not Dick. They have this kind of pettiness and possessiveness when it comes to the other that it's SO funny actually if you think about it (also very cute).

I imagine them having feelings for each other but the timing was always wrong, maybe because at first Dick was the only one in love, and then maybe Wally realises Dick's feeling and finds that he may also feel something but he already has a girlfriend, and the the Teen Titans split up, and then they form again but Dick meets Kori and then Wally meets Linda and then it's the thing:

Something pushed you both in different directions. Us? I got married. He didn't.

THE REASON I LOVE CHILDHOOD BEST FRIENDS TO LOVERS AAAAAHHHH

It's the fact that you keep holding onto something that isn't there anymore because you aren't the same people with the same lives as before, but despite it all you still know and understand the other better than most people and keep coming back to that comfort that you'll always find with THAT person who somehow always knows what to do to make you feel seen and understood and just by hearing them you feel better.

Thanks for giving me an excuse to yap about them✨🤸

Some more moments to get my point across:

Ok that's it or I'll stay here for days.

#asks #first time using this tag insane #ok I'll stop #dick grayson #wally west #birdflash #romantic or platonic nothing can make me hate them #dickwally #dc comics #nightwing #the flash #robin #kid flash #teen titans

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scapeg8ats · 8 hours

Text

(Sorry for this being a long post, it became a rant/vent and a lot of thoughts. Someday I'll shut up about this I SWEAR lol. There's a TL;DR at the end.)

Maybe I'm not even interested in syscourse outside of learning more about plurality and its connections outside of CDDs and why someone may see themselves as plural or really any way of not seeing oneself as One Singular Self (whether it has to do with a disorder or it's a cultural/religious/etc. reason). Or I guess that does make me interested in syscourse. Just not echo chamber syscourse.

Like I'm sorry but y'all are fucking mean. I LOVE having discussions where I can learn and understand other perspectives. I guess to steal SAS's label, I'm very pro-syscourse conversation (though—and this isn't to bash SAS AT ALL—to me that feels redundant because syscourse is supposed to be conversation anyway. But it's not so the label is necessary). I want to learn. I want to be educated. I want to discuss this, even with people who disagree with me, because I want knowledge of other perspectives.

But it is so hard to find syscourse spaces that AREN'T echo chamber syscourse spaces. The desire to attain knowledge is stomped out by attaching inherent morality to labels that can be boiled down to one argument: Do you or do you not believe that plurality is exclusive to CDDs?

And shockingly this has more nuance than "endos are/n't valid". What may cause someone to see themselves as plural without a CDD? And the answers are vast and could be a FASCINATING discussion. Not even necessarily a debate, just learning more about people. And yet the answer to this question isn't even considered before so many people just go "[extremely loud incorrect buzzer noise]" and shut it down.

Maybe, ironically, this is me struggling to understand perspective. But I don't understand the lack of interest in wanting to understand, despite having experienced it myself. And even that, I want to understand. But I know that the fact that because of the nature of my opinions, I would be marked pro-endo, and shut out of that discussion. And it's INFURIATING because I respect the fact that they don't want to interact with me but I just don't understand!

There is endless room for discussion that's shut out and it's frustrating. It's heartbreaking. I want there to be discussion. But there won't be until the echo chambers start to open their fucking eyes.

I remember the moment for me was when someone in the Twitter dissociatwt community who I really respected, who always provided good resources, who was reliable and kind and honest...was pro-syscourse conversation. And my knee-jerk reaction was almost betrayal. How could someone that I respected be a pro-endo??

But I realized that they didn't stop being reliable because of this. Some of y'all will discount doctors who have been studying plurality, trauma, and dissociation longer than some of you have been alive because they're a stinky smelly "pro-endo". Therapists and doctors and the like who go "Why isn't it possible" get discounted because of this when they, too, just want to understand. Because with all due respect and in the most positive way, they're a bunch of nerds. And I don't understand. I don't understand how you can do that.

And that's really the thing. I don't understand and I'm not given the space to understand because my stance is somehow morally wrong. I'm not virtue signaling right. Sometimes for both sides. And it's awful.

TL;DR, I don't understand and am frustrated by echo chamber syscourse. That's it. That's all this long-ass post is saying. I don't get it. It didn't need a post but a lot of me just started Talking and did not stop.

#this was written by several parts and I don't care to pinpoint them right now #syscourse

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whentheleahvesfall · 3 days

Text

Hero & Partner Week - Day 2 - Evolution

Writing (Diary Entry)

A dark, everglowing night. One that I've grown so accustomed to that it stands to reason that it remains the same ever since you left me Sprout. How long has it been? Days? Weeks? ...I've lost count of it all at this point.

Not that... it makes much difference anyway in the grand scheme of this world. I mean, who would even remember it anymore anyway? Me? The sole member of the Kipsaurs left? The one who keeps you in my mind so much that ever since you disappeared, I've felt hollow and well... lost? I don't know what's real and what's not anymore at this rate.

...

So um... I guess I'll write about what's it been like since you left. Um... well, as things stand, here in the Expedition Society - and in Lively Town in general - life has been progressing slowly. For what it's worth, I guess the people in town still look at me as someone helpful. I am a person who does look out for Pokemon in need! But... who's to say I'm the one who needs help? Heh, the hero of the world, the human who came from another era to save this one in the present and now it's all just... gone. And here I am. Now the one who needs saving after all this time. I just... don't really know what I'm missing from myself. Yet as time ticks away, does it make much difference anymore? I don't even know.

...

There's my reflection in the window. Staring back at me is the one person I don't want to see, and it's a Mudkip with a gnawed scar scraped over his right eye. With that stare, I remember a dream coming back to me. You were there. In it, I feel a fleeting feeling come and go, mostly from a reminiscence of when I tried to fight for the world's safety and then... there was a point where I snapped and I ran. I ran away so so fast that it was back in Serene Village and you raced to find me in the spot we would meet up in so much.

The place I said goodbye to you.

The place I wore this scarf as a way of remembering you.

The place where we formed our team, we laughed, we made a promise to each other and the place we cried together.

The place of the beginning and the end. Up there... on the hill with the big tree and with it, the most beautiful view of the valley I've ever seen in my life.

For however long it’s been, I’ve had a lot times together with you in my mind Sprout. A lot of memories. But those memories… slowly begin to fade away as I run away from who I am. Who I’ve become inside.

And you were there in my dream… to tell me to keep moving. You looked at me, those caring eyes of yours, and you stayed behind. To protect me from the demons that were created from my nightmares.

But why? To why were you even here, just looking at me like that? Did I even manage to do something that would warrant any form of recognition? Why would… or rather why would… you even want to help me?

And so on the cusp between dream and reality, the only person keeping me alive in this world was and still is you. Because you gave me no words, only a smile before you faded away and then my scarf began to glow.

My harmony scarf made me evolve, to continue fighting in that dream I had. My scar reminding me of you, when I first met you in this world… and still I fight even now. Whether it’s a dream, whether it’s reality, I don’t even know anymore. Whether I’m a Mudkip, or a Swampert, or whatever form I take now, I guess I still persist in this world, because I’m still me.

And it was only you who ever had complete and utter faith in me that I was only able to ever move forward. You - the outcast of Serene Village - took in the real outcast who came one day without warning.

Me.

And… and you promised me, from that day on, no matter how far apart we were, no matter how hopeless it would seem, you would always be my friend. And now, with you gone…

Can I even keep that promise?

I… I don’t even know anymore. What do I even do? Can you tell me Sprout? As… this scarf means I’m the only one left in the world with the ability to evolve near the Tree of Life, I… I don’t know if I still have some purpose left to fulfill.

Why? Why did you accept Dark Matter? Why did you stop me from destroying it?

To prevent it from coming back?

If so… then… am I the reason it’ll come back anyway? That I have so little faith in myself that I can’t do anything right anymore? I… I don’t know. I just don’t know.

You cared. The others seemingly care.

But do I ever feel properly cared? I guess, if it means anything, just for you… maybe I’ll evolve. Evolve myself… by ridding myself of this guilt of mine. Because my only hope, one way or another and even if it means running away from the Expedition Society…

I just want to see you again. My best friend. My one and only friend.

I miss you Sprout.

…

I miss you so much.

And… I’ll go anywhere, to the ends of this Pokemon world, just to see you again.

…

I’m uh… talking to Xerneas right now and am beginning to also remember my past. About who I was, how I came to be in this world and meeting you… so, so many years in the past before you reincarnated as the Mew of today. My lovable, kind, adventurous and gleaming partner.

How I’m beginning to remember I don’t even know. Mawile said it had something to do with some sort of ancient tablet she found when excavating the site on Showdown Mountain, and that on it was my name. But… just what is my connection still to the past?

And even so… is that even theoretically possible though? You told me I willed myself to this world so I could save it, but I sacrificed my memories so we wouldn’t repeat the mistakes of the future. But now… now I’m having an identity crisis, as the human who was supposed to forget is now the human beginning to remember.

It hurts. It hurts so much. Even now, I think I realise the reason as to why I even forgot was so I couldn’t bear the pain of seeing you leave again. I did it because I cried so much on the hill that sunset came and went and Carracosta began looking for me until he found me still just lying there in a worried mess.

Nothing’s changed though… I’m just… I’m just repeating the same mistakes again over and over. Wherever I go, bad luck follows, or at least that’s how it feels. And no matter what, I just can’t shake the feeling I’m still the reason why you left. Why wasn’t it me who went with you that day?

Am I still fated by this last thing I have of you that I’m never taking off again because without it, I feel so insecure I’m never going to get it back?

I need to… no, I have to keep it. It’s just so important that I can’t evolve without it anymore.

Can’t evolve as you’re my biggest strength in all this. You were my biggest helper. And you’ll always be my light that shined when we were stuck in the Voidlands.

…

It’s getting late now. I’ve written enough now that I guess my thoughts have been fired out onto this little diary of mine. I saw you writing one when I couldn’t sleep one night and this habit of yours kinda just… well, stuck.

I hope you’re still okay, somewhere Sprout, whenever and wherever you are.

Goodnight bud. I… I hope you still care about me, just as how I still care about you.

…

I’ll always remember you.

-Cormac

@heropartnerweek

#pokemon #psmd #pmd #pokemon mystery dungeon #pokemon super mystery dungeon #cormac/mudkip #writing #heropartnerweek #I wanted to write something for this prompt and rather than do a fight scene I decided instead to go with some angst #not sure how long or short this is in the grand scheme of things but here is something for day 2 #hope you guys enjoy reading it :)

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sampofan28 · 3 days

Text

A Perspective on Shigaraki from Someone with Dermatillomania

(Fair warning I only just finished season 3 so sorry if I'm missing anything important)

I love Shigaraki, let me just begin with that. He is by far my favorite MHA character and one of my favorite fictional character's. There are many awesome aspects to him, but I wanted to talk about a specific part: his scratching and skin-picking.

Now let me preface this by saying: I have dermatillomania (also known as excoriation disorder or skin-picking disorder). It is a disorder marked by compulsive skin-picking that can lead to scars, scabs and/or bleeding. For me personally I find that I tend to pick a lot without thinking, and significantly worse and more when stressed.

When it comes to Shigaraki it is fairly blatant to me and anyone else who has the disorder that Shigaraki has dermatillomania, and honestly I think it's awesome. I cannot think of a singular other character in any piece of media with dermatillomania despite the fact that it effects roughly 2% of people from what I can find online.

So yeah to me it's pretty awesome to have a character with the disorder I have as well, and done in a way I feel is really accurate and I want to delve more into that. For starters: Where he scratches. Now Shigaraki clearly has a skin condition, and we see him scratching where said skin condition effects him (around his eyes) a few times as a kid (also he might as an adult I don't remember) BUT we see him scratching his neck like a ton. (An Image just for reference)

Now from every shot we see he doesn't seem to be experiencing any skin issues on his neck (aside from the scratching) and so I find that interesting. For me personally I pick worst on my face and neck, and fairly bad on my back and chest. My neck tends to be by far the worst when stressed, as I have a habit of (similar to Shigaraki) scratching it pretty intensely when uncomfortable/heavily stressed. However in the day to day I tend to pick at my face more. I just really liked the fact that he scratches at a spot that I know is common for me, and it makes make me feel a bit seen if that makes any sense.

On top of this I also really like how Shigaraki's picking is shown. It's never shown as something "gross" or something to be mocked, its a stress response. The USJ attack has one of my favorite scenes in terms of how it shows the scratching; he starts off with a few fingers or a single hand, then it turns into one hand vigorously scratching, then both, and usually you can visibly see blood is drawn. The zooms, the way its framed, the way Shigaraki himself is portrayed as he's panicking and scratching feels so real to me, like and it feels good to be seen on something I often feel ashamed about.

When it comes to the bleeding as well, as strange as it sounds I like that he almost never acknowledges or notices when he begins to bleed. Personally when I pick or scratch my skin I find I don't even realize I'm bleeding until I see my hand/finger is covered in blood or someone else points it out.

I could honestly go on and on about this but I'll cut myself off here: I really love Shigaraki as a character, even dermatilliomania aside I just relate to him a lot, but with it in mind he feels so real to me its amazing. Anyways yeah hope this made sense and whoever's reading this enjoyed it and has a nice day :).

#mha #shigaraki tomura #mha shigaraki #bnha shigaraki #dermatillomania #just some ramblings #bnha

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