I'm using this side blog to post about age regression h/c's and stories and stuff for my fav charcters. Multi fandom :)
My fandoms are: Hermitcraft, Life series, House MD, Empires SMP, LOTR/TROP/Silmarillion, X-Men/Marvel, and Star Trek
Feel free to request anything from these fandoms, and if there’s one not on here you want me to write about, just send and ask and I’ll let you know if I can do it! <33
Tag system!
#Diap stuff -> diapers/accidents
#Star writes -> original fandom writing
#Star speaks -> asks, posts about me
#Star reblogs -> reblogs!
#House and home -> chapters for my agere empires long fic
so I watched ER... I have some thoughts. Some headcannons.
Everyone is very baby... similar to house, traumatized, and therefore baby!
John Carter is a little, like ~4-8 range I think? Sort of in that little kid to big kid area. More voluntary than involuntary.
I think he'd regress to the age he was when his brother died when upset.
Mark Greene is a flip, CG lean I think. He's more inclined to do the looking after than needing to be looked after. Middle regressor.
Will put off his regression until it becomes involuntary.
Carol Hathaway... another flip. Little lean. Enjoys being a CG until she doesn't, can get overwhelmed by it. Primary CG for Dr. Ross.
She started regressing as a way to cope with everything, but later found that CGing in a non-healthcare setting also helped.
Young regressor... like 2-4
Doug Ross. I could write essays on Doug Ross. 2-4 like Carol, but sometimes smaller. He's literally a baby.
Spends most of his time little crying... he's very frightful of CG's and has major issues with men (daddy issues). Involuntary regressor all the way
He hates that he regresses, and that other people know about it. When Carol found out he avoided her until she forcibly confronted him about it. She is the only one he's really comfortable regressing around.
Will let Mark CG for him, but is a lot more wary/resigned.
A quiet little
Okay thats all for now, I'm happy to take requests on any of the people from ER though!
(also sorry for my absence.... Uni sucks)
christmas pressie for @froggymarsh <3 (also hello I'm back)
The festive season was upon the empires, and though all celebrated the transition into winter and the New Year differently, this year Katherine had taken it upon herself to host a grand feast with the other emperors, a sign of good faith towards all in the House Blossom alliance.
Pix had been invited, and though he was initially reluctant to go- of course, not out of any malice or distaste for the idea, it was simply a busy time for the Copper King and his schedule was full enough- he folded rather quickly when Fwhip had demanded he join the Wither Rose Alliance in matching outfits. Fwhip had been overjoyed, and any regret Pix felt over agreeing quickly faded away in the face of such a reaction.
Unfortunately, now getting ready for the event, Pix felt the regret return full force. He had been monumentally busy the entirety of the day, and wanted nothing more than to rest in bed with a cup of tea, and perhaps his journal. The outfit Fwhip had delivered felt too loose in some places and far too snug in others, and his skin was itchy and irritated.
Any attempts made to alter these facts simply made him feel more uncomfortable, and he froze when he caught a look at himself in the mirror. The outfit looked fine, but his face was flushed and his eyes were wet and puffy and his hair was a mess and he just-
Oh. Pix grimaced, looking away from the mirror and reaching for his comm resting nearby. He would simply have to send his regrets to everyone and stay home, he would not be good company tonight. He would make it up to Katherine, and Fwhip, somehow… Perhaps a gift of resources of some kind? Or a favor?
No sooner than he had sent the message, the device began vibrating incessantly, and though he wanted nothing more than to chuck the noisy device, he refrained. Fwhip had sent through some incomprehensible words, but based on the use of capitalized letters, Pix thought he could safely assume he was unhappy. He wrapped an arm around his stomach as a pit formed there, guilt and anxiety making his stomach squirm, and the outfit pulled in an odd way and Pix was crying and sinking to the floor. He wanted it off off off!
That was how Fwhip found him, attempting to squirm out of the itchy, stiff fabric on the floor next to his desk, ugly sobs wracking his body from the overstimulation and overwhelm.
“Hey, hey buddy-” Fwhip’s voice came as a surprise to Pix, and he startled, nearly banging his head on the desk only to be stopped by Fwhip gently cupping his face. “Can you take a deep breath for me, please?” Pix nodded, stuttering his way through an inhale and exhale as Fwhip used his sleeve to wipe away the tears and snot covering his face.
“S-sorry,” Pix rasped out, but Fwhip shook his head.
“No need to apologize, Pix. Let’s get you out of this, hmm?” Pix nodded, allowing Fwhip to move around his arms and tug the upper half of the outfit off. Instantly Pix felt quite a bit better, albeit guilty for throwing such a tantrum over not liking his clothes. He was supposed to be better than this. The pants were still a problem, but less so than the shirt and jacket were.
“Thank you,” He mumbled, chewing on the nail of his thumb. Fwhip hummed, standing up and then helping Pix up as well.
“It’s my pleasure! Now, let’s get you into something a little nicer.” Pix let himself be led to his bed, sitting down when Fwhip pressed gently on his shoulders. He watched with half lidded eyes as Fwhip went through his clothes, eventually presenting Pix with the outfit he typically wore when regressed. Did Pix like that Fwhip had seen him regress often enough to know that? Not particularly. But it was convenient in the moment, so he let the thought pass by, and simply lifted his arms so Fwhip could put his shirt on.
His face flushed when Fwhip pointed towards his diaper bag he kept on hand for when he was caregiving, but he nodded, thumb finally making its way into his mouth as he laid back on his bed. Fwhip did not make a big deal out of this, which Pix was grateful for, simply murmuring some comforting words as he got Pix situated. Shortly thereafter Pix’s thumb was replaced by a pacifier, and Fwhip was clearly doing his best to keep his voice quiet and calm as he helped Pix get under the covers and be comfortable in bed.
Pix reached for him, whining softly until Fwhip got the idea and crawled into the bed next to him. “‘Ank you.” Pix mumbled sleepily around his pacifier, resting his head on Fwhip’s shoulder.
“No problem, bud. Get some sleep.” Pix mumbled something incomprehensible back, already half asleep, but feeling quite safe and content.
–
The next morning, Pix was quite apologetic about the whole affair, both for his embarrassing actions and for making Fwhip miss the events, but Fwhip waved it all off. “I’m happy to be there, whenever you need me.” He had said, making Pix’s stomach do an odd thing that ultimately culminated in him agreeing to contact someone, even if it’s not Fwhip, the next time he regressed, instead of hiding away.
Katherine was also very understanding, once he explained the situation in more detail. She insisted he come over for dinner another night, and Pix agreed happily.
Watched my first ever DC film (the new Superman) and wow. Lex Luthor is truly baby. Evil baby. Have some headcannons! (inspired by @babyluthor)
I think he regresses generally around 2-6, but can be older or younger depending on the trigger.
Entirely an involuntary regressor, he would not do this if he had any choice in the matter, but alas, Lex does not have any choice in the matter.
Once he's little, the only thing that'll get him out of it is time- even if theres an emergency and he has the desire to be big to deal with it, the stress of those events just ends up sending him deeper into headspace.
Either very tired, or absolutely wired, there is no in between. If he's regressing after a crappy week at work, he's probably just going to collapse into bed and watch How It's Made and nap, if there's different particular stressor (such as an experiment gone wrong, emotional/relationship problems with people, Superman) he's going to be absolutely full of anxious energy, and need something to do.
Will never regress in front of anyone if he can help it, it is something he is very ashamed of- I think after he regresses, the next day he feels immensely guilty/ashamed of the time he wasted doing what he perceives to be a pointless action.
If Lex thinks he's regressing at work, he will absolutely lock himself in his office by himself and cut the camera feed, and demand to not be disturbed. Often, he is able to shove it down temporarily, and get himself somewhere safer (ie. home), but if not, Little Lex will chill in the office until he feels big again.
Lex is very well-behaved when regressed, because he's terrified of anyone finding him out, and of his father, even though his father isn't there and can't hurt him. It is an intrinsic part of him to keep quiet, and tidy, even if he's so full of energy it literally hurts.
Likes those toys where it's an initial geometric block and you take it apart and put it back together, but he makes them very complex for himself, or sets challenges such as breaking the pieces and having to fix it that way, or with a very short time limit.
Is very easily frustrated, and though he doesn't throw temper tantrums, he will quietly cry until he feels better. Crying is the only emotional outlet he allows himself when little, because the other ones (tantrums, running around, jumping, skipping, etc) are too loud and disruptive and he's afraid to do them.
Little Lex still hates Superman, but less so than his big counterpart. Mostly, he's just terrified that Superman will come find him/hurt him, instead of the whole big 'he's bad for the world' thing he has going on when he's big.
Superman, for his part, absolutely knows Lex is a little, and it's not his problem (he'll make it his problem eventually, presumably), and it's not hurting anyone so he doesn't say anything about it. He is the only one who knows. Apart from maybe Eve.
Little Lex loves How It's Made, he finds it very interesting/soothing, he also loves working on side projects when little, though he works with Lego Robotics- it's a rule that he's set for himself, to prevent accidents, after an incident in which he set his apartment on fire.
Okay that's all for know thanks for reading! (also, sorry I've been away! Doing whumptober Spock stuff on my ao3, but will be back more in this account soon!)
Spock began to regularly visit the captain when he regressed, much to the captain’s delight. Jim did not regress on a regular schedule, despite McCoy’s best efforts, so it was not every time that Spock could attend, but when he could, he did. Truly, Spock enjoyed spending that time with Jim, and with the doctor, even if he always ends up extraordinarily tired after, and often during. Spock had noticed several symptoms, the fatigue among them, of spending time with Jim in that state, including heightened emotions accompanied by an increased inability to manage them.
Since these afflictions were temporary, Spock concluded that they were likely the result of him getting ‘caught up in the moment’, to use a human expression, and did not spend much time considering them. They had never caused him severe distress, nor had the effects been so intense that he had behaved in an unacceptable manner.
That was, until Jim had a particularly rough day. The doctor had warned him that Jim was feeling sensitive, and Spock had done his best to not be a nuisance. He had offered to leave altogether, but that had caused Jim to start crying, so he had stayed. They did not play as they usually did, instead watching a movie on Jim’s PADD as McCoy did work on his own PADD at Jim’s desk. Spock was enjoying the movie, even as Jim grumbled through some parts of it, however when one of the characters died unexpectedly, Jim began wailing, and Spock found himself affected as well.
The doctor hurried over, comforting Jim, cuddling him and mumbling soothing words, and Spock turned to give both them and himself some privacy. Irrationally, he felt his lip quivering, and he was sad about the death of the character, even though the entirety of the movie was a work of fiction. Spock took deep breaths, trying and failing to center himself, feeling remarkably similar to how he did when, all those days ago, he had become regressed through feeling Jim’s regression.
The doctor had asked him, at that point, if Spock was a little. Truly, Spock had not believed he was. He was not certain anymore, after spending so much time with the regressed captain. He needed to meditate on this.
“Spock?” Jim’s voice was a wobbling croak, and Spock turned back to face him, hoping he was still in control of himself enough that his emotions were not evident.
“Yes, Jim?” He replied, and even to his own ears, his voice sounded… emotional. He sounded sad, a pathetic failure on his part. His heart hurt, and his head was very full of many thoughts- so many he could hardly process them. He was so caught up in himself that he failed to notice Jim reach for him, nor react in time to prevent skin to skin contact. Near instantly, Jim’s emotions flooded into his, creating a tumultuous sea that he had no hope of navigating. He got the impression that Jim was attempting to comfort him through touch, which was appreciated, but lost beneath the many strong feelings he was experiencing.
Spock felt something warm drip down his face, and as first was momentarily concerned he had sustained a head wound without noticing, but quickly realised he was crying. Again. Jim had let go of his arm, and the lack of his presence was almost as disconcerting as the initial rush of emotions had been. Spock did not know what to do, he was frozen, completely and utterly overwhelmed by the mess going on inside his head.
“Okay Jimmy, why don’t you go grab a real good stuffed animal for Spock?” He heard McCoy say, and he almost wanted to protest, but he did not. His vision was completely blurred by the tears, and he felt his fingernails digging into the side of his legs, and the familiar prickling pain, but the sensation disappeared when hands- careful to avoid his skin- encircled his arms and pulled his hands away from his legs.
“None of that, Mr. Spock.” The doctor murmured, setting Spock's hands in his lap, where they remained loosely open. “How can I help you?”
Spock opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out, apart from a choked exhale. He felt so out of control, so very young, he did not know how he could be helped when there were so many things inside his head, all competing with one another, growing steadily louder until-
There was something in his mouth, forcing him to breathe through his nose. It was being held there, firmly, and Spock found his mind quiet as he attempted to figure out what it was. It tasted faintly of silicone, and felt quite pleasantly shaped in his mouth. The firm pressure keeping it there was removed, so Spock made the effort to keep it in his mouth himself. He sucked on it, and discovered it was very soothing, and so continued the motion as his thoughts fell into something much quieter, much softer.
A few moments later had Jim pressing Goldie into his arms, and Spock finally managed to move himself enough to pick her up and press her to his chest. “Thank you,” He mumbled, the soothing object falling out of his mouth. Spock froze again, unable to figure out what steps to take to get it back, but luckily he had Jim, who picked it up and pressed it into Spock's mouth with a cheery smile.
“All better!” Jim told him, and Spock nodded in agreement. Indeed, all better.
“Good job, Jim.” McCoy praised, further brightening the captain's smile. “You were very helpful.”
“Thanks, Bones!” Jim chirped, squirming back into his spot on the bed, tucked between Spock and the doctor. “Come on Spock, let’s watch Storybots, I think you’d like them!” Spock nodded, pressing in closer to Jim as he pulled up the show on his PADD. Spock did, in fact, like the Storybots.
(Despite the fact that Jim would later claim he must have been bored because he fell asleep. Spock falls asleep a lot, it was unrelated).
Hi hi! I saw that you’re taking fic requests! Would you be able to write a CG!Data (Star Trek: the next generation) & Little!Y/N fic? It doesn’t have to be long, even a small paragraph would make my day! Thank you for considering :)
Hiiii thank you for the request!! I hope you like it :)
(they/them pronouns used for Y/N)
Y/N awoke with a sharp gasp, a hand clutched against their chest and the other buried in the blankets, which were twisted around them. Y/N kicked at them, feeling overwhelmed with the heat and weight. “Computer,” Y/N whispered, eyes darting about the room, searching for the danger that had graced their dreams. “Can you call Data, please?” Though whatever response the computer gave was not heard, their mind focused on examining the area around them.
The lingering adrenaline from the nightmare made the air feel thick, almost tangible, pressing against their chest with an invisible weight. Y/N drew their knees closer, curling into themselves. A smaller target was harder to find- to hurt. Time passed both rapidly and slowly, and they did not know exactly how long it took for Data to arrive, just that the relief that flooded them at his presence was near overwhelming. Finally, tears pricked at their eyes as they felt safe enough to let go of their adrenaline keeping them big, and easily slipped down into little space.
Data knelt beside them, and Spot- who had clearly followed Data to their room- leapt onto their bed and brushed up against their knees. The android’s voice, calm and measured, cut through the lingering tension. “Little one, you are safe. The danger you perceived is no longer present.”
This was an old song and dance by now, but still they reached for Data, and he sat on the edge of the bed, allowing Y/N to climb into his embrace. They sniffled, tucking their face against his neck, tears slowly trickling down their face as the fear receded and left them feeling drained. Their hands bunched up in his shirt, though their tight grip relaxed as Data began running a hand up and down their back. Spot brushed up against their leg again, beginning to purr, and Y/N gave a small, wet giggle.
“Spot, that tickles.” They mumbled, grinning against Data’s shoulder. Data readjusted them both, settling against the wall with Y/N still tucked in his lap.
“Your heart is still racing. I will begin with breathing exercises,” he soothed, his voice soft yet steady. “Inhale… hold… exhale. Slowly, small one.” Y/N copied his directions, and felt the last of the fear retreat, replaced by a loving warmth that stopped the shivering they hadn’t even noticed they were doing.
“Thank you, Data.” They mumbled a short time later, ending the sentence with a yawn.
“Of course.” The android replied, reaching for the blanket and tucking it over the both of them. “You may rest easy now, I will stay here.” Y/N nodded sleepily, nuzzling against Data’s chest as sleep quickly reclaimed them, resting assured of their safety, as they had Data there to protect them.
Star Trek classification au goes brrr. Here's Little Jim, CG Bones, and Little(ish) Spock.
Summary: A shore leave shopping trip turns into a crash course in why meddling in your first officer’s personal business is never simple for one Captain Jim Kirk.
WC: 6134
Starfleet requires that all aspiring members, human or not, take a classification test before their admittance to the school. Officially, this does not affect your possibility of admission, and is only used to appropriately accommodate every cadet upon being admitted. Unofficially, statistics show that Starfleet admits far more neutrals and caregivers than littles, despite having a nearly equal number of applications from each classification.
Officially, the classification test was designed to be applicable to all alien species applying, despite differences in culture, psychology, and physiology. Unofficially, almost every non-human applicant is classified as neutral due to the test failing to grasp these differences, and being unable to neatly classify them as a little or caregiver, defaulting to the basic option. It is not that other species are unable to fit these traits, simply that they are expressed differently, and the test lacks the capabilities to pick up on these differences.
James T. Kirk understands this as a true fact, because his first officer is definitely a little, despite all official paperwork claiming otherwise. If there was one alien species capable of tricking the test, it would be Vulcans- although Spock would argue that Vulcans are both incapable of trickery and lying, because such things are illogical. They were 2 years into the five year mission, and though they weren’t exactly friends, Spock and him had become something of friendly coworkers. And as a friendly coworker, and little, Jim had noticed certain… traits in Spock that gave him reason to believe that, had the classification test been calibrated for his Vulcan-ness, would have led to his first officer being classified as little, and not neutral.
He had been trying to convince Bones of Spock’s little-ness but to no avail, at least not when he’s big. Bones, despite what his general demeanor would suggest, was wrapped around Jim’s finger, and especially when Jim was regressed. He was a great caregiver, and Jim wouldn’t replace him for the world, but there was only so much pretend play a caregiver can tolerate, and Jim needed more littles to play with! He’s almost certain that with a bit of gentle caretaking from Bones, and maybe some encouragement from his captain, Spock would regress easily enough, and then he and Jim could become better friends, and playmates.
This leads him to now, showing Bones his very nice marker drawings of the steps of his plan in order to convince him to play along. As Jim sets down the last page, he takes a deep breath, and looks up at Bones with the saddest puppy eyes he can manage, stalling the no that was about to fall from his caregivers lips. Bones sighed and leaned back in his chair.
“Listen, kiddo.” The doctor began, and Jim did not like the tone of his voice, so he turned up the pout a few degrees. “I don’t think Commander Spock wants us interfering in his personal business, ‘specially not me. I know you get a little bored around here sometimes, but there’s other littles aboard the ship- classified littles. You can play with them.” And then Jim is being ushered into pajamas and into bed, but he can hardly sleep when he’s trying to improve his plan. If he can’t get Bones, who is the best caregiver ever, to help him make Spock regress, he’ll have to rely on another method…
An opportunity arose a few days later when they docked at a starbase for some well deserved shore leave. Jim came up with a flawless plan to get Spock feeling little, and then he’ll be able to prove to Bones that Spock regresses, and be able to play with him.
“Spock! Just the Vulcan I wanted to see.” Jim chirped as he walked into Lab 2, where there were a great deal of vials set out in rows, and filled with some sort of viscous, yellow fluid.
“Captain,” Spock replied, turning around to face Jim. He looked as he usually did, but Jim was hopeful to change that by the end of the next few hours. The captain walked a little further into the lab, leaning against the bench where the vials sat- though careful not to bump them at all.
“I noticed you didn’t sign up for shore leave, Commander Spock.” Jim intonated casually, letting his gaze drift around the room while Spock processed. He was armed with some statistics about Spock’s productivity if he needed it, as the first officer had once tricked him in a similar manner.
“No, Captain.” Spock confirmed, before returning to filling the test tubes.
“I want you to go on shore leave, Spock.” Spock turned to face him again, and Jim has grown good enough at reading Spock’s very minute body language to tell that he is annoyed.
“I am occupied in the lab, Captain, and afterwards I will be writing reports. I do not plan to go for shore leave.”
“It’s an order. You’ll be in the same group as me.”
Spock did not sigh, but Jim delighted in the fact that it was a near thing. Step one of the plan was complete. Step two involved dragging Spock out for some shopping, because buying things for little him always got Jim feeling little, and he couldn’t see why Spock wouldn’t feel the same way. If Bones also happened to be there to maybe do some child rearing… well it certainly couldn’t hurt.
–
Spock did not understand why the captain had suddenly developed a desire for his company, but he did not ask. Dr. McCoy stood next to him while Jim piled item upon item into the basket that Spock had been relegated to holding. Spock found it illogical to be on Starbase-19B shopping when he could be working, but he would not disobey orders from his captain. Fortunately his lab experiment was not time sensitive, and he would be capable of returning to it when the captain tired of his excursion. McCoy appeared to share Spock’s level of enthusiasm, and Spock found himself with a new appreciation for the man's ability to keep the captain in check.
Spock was aware that the captain was classified as a little, but this was his first time actively observing that particular trait. Spock did not dislike regressed individuals, but human children and Vulcans, by his study, appeared to have fundamental ideological differences that made their interactions displeasing on both sides, so he did not actively seek out situations where those interactions became probable. This situation with the captain was not providing evidence to dissuade him for his provision.
“Spock, you should get something!” Jim, who had rushed over to Spock’s side to loudly proclaim this, tugged on the sleeve of his uniform. Spock looked over to McCoy, who held out one hand, and upon Spock’s confused hesitance, snatched the nearly overflowing basket from Spock’s hand. He then used his other hand to push Spock forward, which the captain evidently took as Spock agreeing to his request, as he proceeded to briskly walk Spock through most of the store. He occasionally stopped to point out objects he believed Spock would enjoy, however they hardly lingered for long enough for Spock to investigate the items himself. It admittedly surprised him when Jim shifted from holding his sleeve to his hand, and he nearly pulled away due to the intimacy of it, but he did not want to upset the captain as he was.
As the day progressed with Jim continuing to grab at his hands to pull him towards something, Spock found himself desiring a break to meditate. Jim’s emotions were very strong, and he did not have any form of shielding to prevent Spock from taking the full force of his powerful emotions. He did not desire to tell Jim of this, as he calculated a high probability of the captain experiencing guilt, which was not his intention, and would likely create tension between Spock and Dr. McCoy. He resolved himself to finish the day as it was, and he could meditate for an increased length that evening.
However, Spock did not anticipate Jim becoming upset regardless, and while clinging tightly to Spock’s hand. Dr. McCoy had suggested they beam back up to the Enterprise briefly for some rest, which Spock was not opposed to, but the captain very much was. Spock attempted to detangle their hands as Jim’s emotions grew stronger- frustration, betrayal, sadness, despair- but Jim clung tighter to him as he argued with the doctor. Spock found himself getting overwhelmed as the two argued, the weight of having another person's full emotions battering against his shields for hours finally hitting him. Jim stomped a foot on the ground in anger, and Spock found himself- to his utter horrification and mortification- crying.
He finally managed to detach his hand from Jim’s, and quickly turned away from him and McCoy both as he wiped his face. This was an unacceptable failure of control on his part- his shields should be more than strong enough to handle such prolonged contact, and he certainly should not have reacted so… emotionally, to their failure. His shame only continued as he found himself unable to stop crying, the tears continuing to fall and he found himself becoming short of breath. McCoy and Jim continued arguing behind him until a pathetic hiccup squeaked its way out of Spock’s throat, and then they went silent. Spock wiped his eyes again, and tried to compose himself as he turned back around.
Their expressions were surprisingly similar- though Spock struggled to decipher their meaning.
“I apologize,” Spock spoke as evenly as he could, but it was difficult when his emotions were running wild. “I must return to the Enterprise to meditate. I cannot- cannot stop.” Jim and McCoy began shouting at him but Spock could not make sense of their overlapping voices. They were loud and it was painful to his ears and head- his senses felt oversensitive, and Spock was crying harder than before. He does not know at what point McCoy calls up to the Enterprise to beam them up, but he is in the transporter room, vision blurred, and then a hand on his back, leading him forward and away.
Spock can hardly process external stimuli, as he attempts to regain control over his mental faculties, but there is a background sense of relief when he finds himself in his quarters. Gentle hands maneuver him until he is sitting on his bed, and then someone- McCoy- is talking in a low, soothing tone. The words are vague reassurances, but Spock finds them to be a lifeline, and slowly he is able to cease the crying and hyperventilation that had plagued him. He feels very unpleasant, with his face wet and sticky, and the knowledge that he has acted in a most unsuitable manner. He looks at Dr. McCoy, who is staring back at him with an expression that Spock does not recognize nor understand.
“Thank you, doctor.” Spock says after a long moment of eye contact, “I… appreciate your assistance, though I would ask you not to divulge today's events to any other crewmembers.”
“So that’s it? Have a breakdown at the space mall and then it’s back to an emotionless zombie?” The doctor huffed, and Spock twisted his hands in his bed sheets, rubbing the fabric in an attempt to keep himself grounded. It was imperative he meditate as soon as possible.
“It is a starbase, not a ‘space mall’. My actions today were regrettable. I do not intend to repeat the instance.” Spock replied stiffly. “I must meditate.” He added, though he did not yet stand up as doing so would put him face to face with the doctor.
“Are you a little?”
What.
“As you are well aware doctor, my classification is that of neutral.” Spock retorted, raising an eyebrow. McCoy gave a very long sigh and rubbed his hands over his face.
“Let me try this again.” McCoy murmured to himself under his breath. “Do you share any traits with the little classification? Have you ever regressed?”
Spock hesitated. He did not desire to lie to the doctor point blank, but this situation was moving into territory that was unfamiliar. Meditation was essential, but he could not meditate until Dr. McCoy left, and he would most certainly not do that until satisfied.
“There are traits that I share with the classification. I believe today, when the captain was holding my hand, I experienced regression, through his emotions.” Spock finally answered after several seconds, finding his response to be a fair compromise. McCoy sighed again.
“Jim thinks you’re a little, and he’s slowly been convincing me of the same thing. After today… Why don’t we say this? I’ll leave so that you can meditate, and the next time Jim regresses, you can come visit for a bit.” Spock agreed quickly with a nod of his head, the sooner he could meditate the better.
… And it would not be a problem to spend a short amount of time with the regressed captain. Though today’s excursion ended undesirably, Jim was far from the most intolerable little Spock has been around.
True to his word, the next time Jim regressed- which was 7.752 days following shore leave, McCoy commed Spock, and Spock made his way to the main playroom aboard the Enterprise. The room was empty apart from the captain and doctor, which was not surprising considering the hour. It was the time during which most of the off duty crew took their meal. The doctor noticed him first, and Spock greeted him with a nod of acknowledgement. Jim noticed McCoy’s distraction and followed his gaze, leading him to Spock.
“Spock!” Jim jumped up and ran towards him, reaching for his hands, presumably to take Spock back to where he had been playing with the doctor.
“Captain.” Spock greeted, smoothly moving his arms so that the captain grabbed onto his sleeves instead. His previous assumption was proven correct when he was led to where McCoy still sat on the ground, the captain dragging Spock down to the floor as well. He began explaining, at a rapid pace, the pretend game he had been playing with the doctor. Spock was assigned a role, which he attempted to perform to the best of his ability, though the captain kept changing the rules and telling him to ‘play’ in a different manner.
Though illogical, and mildly annoying, Spock found himself truly enjoying his time with the captain. Jim was as passionate as he ever was, and as always, it was inspiring to see.
“No, Spock, like this-” Jim stated for the 72nd time since they had begun the game, Spock frowned slightly, he had truly thought he was improving. He found it difficult to follow the jumps Jim made, though McCoy showed no such difficulties, and in fact, had been relegated to being a voiceless character as Jim had focussed all his attention on Spock. Spock did not feel jealous, but it was a close thing.
“Apologies, Jim.” Spock replied, and they resumed the game, with Spock attempting to correct his actions. It appeared he had finally gotten it right, as Jim did not correct him for a further five, then ten, then twenty minutes. To his surprise, Spock found himself getting invested in the story Jim had weaved, and as the game slowly developed, Spock’s character too was pushed out of the spotlight, until it was just Jim, telling the story as he played himself.
At one point, the game required Spock to be on his stomach, and he had remained there as Jim had not asked him to move otherwise. He had the toy Jim had given him to use- a green stuffed cat, which had made McCoy laugh, though the reasoning he did not explain- tucked under his chin as he listened to Jim tell the story. He was comfortable, albeit slightly cold, and found himself involuntarily falling asleep. He was struggling to keep his eyes open, but he did not want to sit up and risk interrupting the captain. Spock startled when the doctor suddenly spoke up.
“Okay Jimbo, I think Spock is ready for bed. Why don’t we clean up the toys, hmm?” Spock sat up, intending to protest against the doctors words- he wanted to hear how Jim manages to defeat the bully aliens and rescue his pet cat!- but a jaw cracking yawn erased any counter evidence he could have provided.
Indeed, it appeared the captain had been planning to protest as well, but Spock’s yawn prevented him from doing so. “Can we keep playing tomorrow?” The captain asked, giving Spock a look he could not decipher. Jim had begun putting away the many toys surrounding them- truly, Spock had not noticed the number of characters involved in the story- as the doctor considered his answer.
“If you, and Spock, want to keep playing tomorrow, I have no objections.” McCoy replied, and Jim turned to Spock, and abruptly, his face changed. Spock felt his heart stutter as the captain’s eyes widened and brightened, his lip coming out in a pout, and tears started to pool in the corners of his eyes.
“Spock?” Jim asked in a wobbly voice, and who was Spock to refuse him?
“Of course, if that is what you wish, captain. Though, I am working the alpha shift tomorrow. I will be available following its conclusion.” Spock replied, his voice taking on a soothing tone that he could hardly recognize. In an instant, Jim’s pout and tears receded, replaced by a bright grin that had a similar effect on Spock's heart.
“Thanks Spock!” Jim said cheerfully, before taking the plush cat that still remained in Spock’s arms and putting it away. Spock blinked, he had not realized he had continued holding onto it, though now he keenly felt the loss of it. To his surprise, he felt somewhat distressed over the loss, which was a fact to be meditated on. How fascinating, that the proximity to the captain in his current state appeared to have an effect on Spock’s own emotions. Two occurrences was not enough to form a conclusion however, so further experimentation would be necessary.
Spock stood, though his mind was now far too busy to sleep. “Goodnight, Jim. Goodnight, Doctor.” He managed, standing still just long enough to hear their replies, before turning and heading to his quarters.
His meditation was not productive, he could not logically identify the reasoning behind his distress nor how to overcome it. He compartmentalized the rest of what had occurred that day, and did his best to bury the feelings that had come up when with Jim and the doctor.
Sleep did not come easy. Spock tried many methods to aid in his drifting off, but found success in none. He grabbed one of his pillows, squeezing it out of frustration- a display he would never usually permit- and found himself unusually relieved. He squeezed it again, against his chest, and found that he appreciated the pressure. Spock kept a tight grip on it, and found that sleep finally came, and quickly.
–
Alpha shift went well, Spock spent his first half of the shift on the bridge, with the captain. Spock was initially tense, though he relaxed when nothing about the previous night was mentioned. He spent the second half of his shift in the labs, running an experiment on some minerals they had found on one of their more recent planet excursions. It had some particularly fascinating properties that Spock, along with the geologists, were investigating.
When his shift had concluded, Spock took an early dinner in his quarters, and did some administrative work on his PADD, until he was once again called by McCoy, though this time to the captain's quarters. Spock set down his PADD and left his quarters, chiming the door to the captains, and entering upon McCoy calling for him to “Just come in!”
“Hello-” Spock’s greeting was cut off by the captain, who had grabbed Spock’s sleeve and immediately began pulling him towards the bed. The captain’s bed currently had many stuffed toys, among other ones, and he cleared a space for Spock to sit. Spock took his intended position, next to the doctor, as Jim began explaining the new game they were playing. Spock privately mourned the fact that he would likely never discover the ending to the previous night's story.
“You have to stay awake this time, okay?” Jim told him firmly, and Spock gave a slight nod, straightening his posture slightly. McCoy snorted a laugh that he attempted to disguise as a cough. “Good! Okay, I’ll start…”
Despite his best efforts, Spock found himself back in the cycle of disappointing Jim and overall not being very good at the games, though he tried very hard to do what Jim asked of him. To his credit, the captain was exceedingly patient and never grew irritated with Spock, though Spock was annoyed with himself. As the game went on, Spock found himself relaxing back into the sea of stuffed animals, slowly participating less, though his lack of presence appeared to improve the game somewhat. Spock squeezed the plush he had been given- a pale yellow canine that Jim had solemnly informed him was named Goldie- against his chest, as he had done his pillow, and found it had the same sedative effect.
He blinked slowly, watching as Jim jumped off the bed in search of… something, Spock had admittedly lost the plot of this game. The doctor leaned towards him, giving Spock an odd look.
“He’s a handful, isn’t he?” Spock nodded slowly, finding himself not wanting to exert the energy to speak. “Tired, commander?” McCoy teased, and Spock knew he was supposed to protest, invite McCoy into one of their arguments, but he was so tired…
“Mmm,” Spock hummed in reply instead, which made the doctor give him another one of those odd looks. Spock squeezed the plush a little tighter, though mindful not to cause any damage to it. Jim jumped back onto the bed holding a small toy ship, and the game between him and McCoy started anew. Spock was, to his relief, entirely forgotten.
Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knew that his behaviour was unusual. He was not acting like himself at all, nor truly feeling as he usually did. However, presently, Spock was not concerned with the thoughts in the back of his mind, and was only thinking about being able to sleep.
He closed his eyes, bringing Goldie up to his chin so he could feel her soft fur against his face, and between one moment and the next, fell asleep.
“Spock!” He jerked awake, blinking rapidly to clear his vision as he searched for the source of the sound. The captain was giving him a very disappointed look, and the doctor was giggling. “You said you wouldn’t fall asleep.”
“Apologies, captain.” Spock mumbled, straightening from where he’d curled up. He could feel his face warm in embarrassment as Jim shook his head and sighed.
“It’s okay Spock… I guess I wasn’t including you very much. I’m sorry, too.” Jim mumbled, earning a ruffle of his hair from the doctor. Spock nodded, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and giving a small yawn.
“Thank you, Jim. I shall endeavor to participate more, as well.”
Spock still made many mistakes as they played, but Jim corrected them with his near endless patience. Spock found himself once again invested in the story, eagerly playing along. He made less mistakes as time went on, as well, much to both Jim’s and his own relief. Indeed, Spock found himself able to follow the logic of the story quite well, and even added aspects to it of his own- with Jim’s approval, of course.
The doctor played along as well, though Spock often felt McCoy’s eyes drifting to him. He did not understand why.
Eventually, the game concluded, with a happy ending for almost all the characters involved, Goldie included.
“Okay, time to tidy up and then it’s time for bed.” The doctor ordered, and though Jim complained slightly at the volume of cleanup he had to do, he obeyed quickly enough. Spock helped where he could, though he assumed he was more a nuisance than anything, considering he had no idea where Jim kept any of his toys.
Still, the captain thanked him for his help, and it made Spock feel quite warm inside. He shifted slightly from foot to foot, but before he could say more, the doctor was ushering Jim to the bathroom, and Spock took that as his cue to leave. He said his goodnights, and returned to his own quarters.
The doctor watched him as he left, and Spock could not hope to predict what he was thinking.
(It was, Spock would later find out, something along the lines of; “Damn it all, Jim was right.”)
Soft Spot P2
True to his word, the next time Jim regressed- which was 7.752 days following shore leave, McCoy commed Spock, and Spock made his way to the main playroom aboard the Enterprise. The room was empty apart from the captain and doctor, which was not surprising considering the hour. It was the time during which most of the off duty crew took their meal. The doctor noticed him first, and Spock greeted him with a nod of acknowledgement. Jim noticed McCoy’s distraction and followed his gaze, leading him to Spock.
“Spock!” Jim jumped up and ran towards him, reaching for his hands, presumably to take Spock back to where he had been playing with the doctor.
“Captain.” Spock greeted, smoothly moving his arms so that the captain grabbed onto his sleeves instead. His previous assumption was proven correct when he was led to where McCoy still sat on the ground, the captain dragging Spock down to the floor as well. He began explaining, at a rapid pace, the pretend game he had been playing with the doctor. Spock was assigned a role, which he attempted to perform to the best of his ability, though the captain kept changing the rules and telling him to ‘play’ in a different manner.
Though illogical, and mildly annoying, Spock found himself truly enjoying his time with the captain. Jim was as passionate as he ever was, and as always, it was inspiring to see.
“No, Spock, like this-” Jim stated for the 72nd time since they had begun the game, Spock frowned slightly, he had truly thought he was improving. He found it difficult to follow the jumps Jim made, though McCoy showed no such difficulties, and in fact, had been relegated to being a voiceless character as Jim had focussed all his attention on Spock. Spock did not feel jealous, but it was a close thing.
“Apologies, Jim.” Spock replied, and they resumed the game, with Spock attempting to correct his actions. It appeared he had finally gotten it right, as Jim did not correct him for a further five, then ten, then twenty minutes. To his surprise, Spock found himself getting invested in the story Jim had weaved, and as the game slowly developed, Spock’s character too was pushed out of the spotlight, until it was just Jim, telling the story as he played himself.
At one point, the game required Spock to be on his stomach, and he had remained there as Jim had not asked him to move otherwise. He had the toy Jim had given him to use- a green stuffed cat, which had made McCoy laugh, though the reasoning he did not explain- tucked under his chin as he listened to Jim tell the story. He was comfortable, albeit slightly cold, and found himself involuntarily falling asleep. He was struggling to keep his eyes open, but he did not want to sit up and risk interrupting the captain. Spock startled when the doctor suddenly spoke up.
“Okay Jimbo, I think Spock is ready for bed. Why don’t we clean up the toys, hmm?” Spock sat up, intending to protest against the doctors words- he wanted to hear how Jim manages to defeat the bully aliens and rescue his pet cat!- but a jaw cracking yawn erased any counter evidence he could have provided.
Indeed, it appeared the captain had been planning to protest as well, but Spock’s yawn prevented him from doing so. “Can we keep playing tomorrow?” The captain asked, giving Spock a look he could not decipher. Jim had begun putting away the many toys surrounding them- truly, Spock had not noticed the number of characters involved in the story- as the doctor considered his answer.
“If you, and Spock, want to keep playing tomorrow, I have no objections.” McCoy replied, and Jim turned to Spock, and abruptly, his face changed. Spock felt his heart stutter as the captain’s eyes widened and brightened, his lip coming out in a pout, and tears started to pool in the corners of his eyes.
“Spock?” Jim asked in a wobbly voice, and who was Spock to refuse him?
“Of course, if that is what you wish, captain. Though, I am working the alpha shift tomorrow. I will be available following its conclusion.” Spock replied, his voice taking on a soothing tone that he could hardly recognize. In an instant, Jim’s pout and tears receded, replaced by a bright grin that had a similar effect on Spock's heart.
“Thanks Spock!” Jim said cheerfully, before taking the plush cat that still remained in Spock’s arms and putting it away. Spock blinked, he had not realized he had continued holding onto it, though now he keenly felt the loss of it. To his surprise, he felt somewhat distressed over the loss, which was a fact to be meditated on. How fascinating, that the proximity to the captain in his current state appeared to have an effect on Spock’s own emotions. Two occurrences was not enough to form a conclusion however, so further experimentation would be necessary.
Spock stood, though his mind was now far too busy to sleep. “Goodnight, Jim. Goodnight, Doctor.” He managed, standing still just long enough to hear their replies, before turning and heading to his quarters.
His meditation was not productive, he could not logically identify the reasoning behind his distress nor how to overcome it. He compartmentalized the rest of what had occurred that day, and did his best to bury the feelings that had come up when with Jim and the doctor.
Sleep did not come easy. Spock tried many methods to aid in his drifting off, but found success in none. He grabbed one of his pillows, squeezing it out of frustration- a display he would never usually permit- and found himself unusually relieved. He squeezed it again, against his chest, and found that he appreciated the pressure. Spock kept a tight grip on it, and found that sleep finally came, and quickly.
–
Alpha shift went well, Spock spent his first half of the shift on the bridge, with the captain. Spock was initially tense, though he relaxed when nothing about the previous night was mentioned. He spent the second half of his shift in the labs, running an experiment on some minerals they had found on one of their more recent planet excursions. It had some particularly fascinating properties that Spock, along with the geologists, were investigating.
When his shift had concluded, Spock took an early dinner in his quarters, and did some administrative work on his PADD, until he was once again called by McCoy, though this time to the captain's quarters. Spock set down his PADD and left his quarters, chiming the door to the captains, and entering upon McCoy calling for him to “Just come in!”
“Hello-” Spock’s greeting was cut off by the captain, who had grabbed Spock’s sleeve and immediately began pulling him towards the bed. The captain’s bed currently had many stuffed toys, among other ones, and he cleared a space for Spock to sit. Spock took his intended position, next to the doctor, as Jim began explaining the new game they were playing. Spock privately mourned the fact that he would likely never discover the ending to the previous night's story.
“You have to stay awake this time, okay?” Jim told him firmly, and Spock gave a slight nod, straightening his posture slightly. McCoy snorted a laugh that he attempted to disguise as a cough. “Good! Okay, I’ll start…”
Despite his best efforts, Spock found himself back in the cycle of disappointing Jim and overall not being very good at the games, though he tried very hard to do what Jim asked of him. To his credit, the captain was exceedingly patient and never grew irritated with Spock, though Spock was annoyed with himself. As the game went on, Spock found himself relaxing back into the sea of stuffed animals, slowly participating less, though his lack of presence appeared to improve the game somewhat. Spock squeezed the plush he had been given- a pale yellow canine that Jim had solemnly informed him was named Goldie- against his chest, as he had done his pillow, and found it had the same sedative effect.
He blinked slowly, watching as Jim jumped off the bed in search of… something, Spock had admittedly lost the plot of this game. The doctor leaned towards him, giving Spock an odd look.
“He’s a handful, isn’t he?” Spock nodded slowly, finding himself not wanting to exert the energy to speak. “Tired, commander?” McCoy teased, and Spock knew he was supposed to protest, invite McCoy into one of their arguments, but he was so tired…
“Mmm,” Spock hummed in reply instead, which made the doctor give him another one of those odd looks. Spock squeezed the plush a little tighter, though mindful not to cause any damage to it. Jim jumped back onto the bed holding a small toy ship, and the game between him and McCoy started anew. Spock was, to his relief, entirely forgotten.
Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knew that his behaviour was unusual. He was not acting like himself at all, nor truly feeling as he usually did. However, presently, Spock was not concerned with the thoughts in the back of his mind, and was only thinking about being able to sleep.
He closed his eyes, bringing Goldie up to his chin so he could feel her soft fur against his face, and between one moment and the next, fell asleep.
“Spock!” He jerked awake, blinking rapidly to clear his vision as he searched for the source of the sound. The captain was giving him a very disappointed look, and the doctor was giggling. “You said you wouldn’t fall asleep.”
“Apologies, captain.” Spock mumbled, straightening from where he’d curled up. He could feel his face warm in embarrassment as Jim shook his head and sighed.
“It’s okay Spock… I guess I wasn’t including you very much. I’m sorry, too.” Jim mumbled, earning a ruffle of his hair from the doctor. Spock nodded, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and giving a small yawn.
“Thank you, Jim. I shall endeavor to participate more, as well.”
Spock still made many mistakes as they played, but Jim corrected them with his near endless patience. Spock found himself once again invested in the story, eagerly playing along. He made less mistakes as time went on, as well, much to both Jim’s and his own relief. Indeed, Spock found himself able to follow the logic of the story quite well, and even added aspects to it of his own- with Jim’s approval, of course.
The doctor played along as well, though Spock often felt McCoy’s eyes drifting to him. He did not understand why.
Eventually, the game concluded, with a happy ending for almost all the characters involved, Goldie included.
“Okay, time to tidy up and then it’s time for bed.” The doctor ordered, and though Jim complained slightly at the volume of cleanup he had to do, he obeyed quickly enough. Spock helped where he could, though he assumed he was more a nuisance than anything, considering he had no idea where Jim kept any of his toys.
Still, the captain thanked him for his help, and it made Spock feel quite warm inside. He shifted slightly from foot to foot, but before he could say more, the doctor was ushering Jim to the bathroom, and Spock took that as his cue to leave. He said his goodnights, and returned to his own quarters.
The doctor watched him as he left, and Spock could not hope to predict what he was thinking.
(It was, Spock would later find out, something along the lines of; “Damn it all, Jim was right.”)
Jon regresses quite frequently to around toddler/kid age, so around 2/3-7/8. It normally depends on hpw overwhelmed he is.
He is extremely introverted and soft-spoken as a little. You would think he was entirely nonverbal but no he is just shy.
He has really low self-esteem, even (maybe especially) as a little. He was raised to think of himself as a lesser, so he tends to go with other little's lead.
Is clingy to his caregiver and always wants to please them. Will definitely follow you everywhere and try to help with whatever his caregiver is doing.
Puppy Dog Eyes + Pouting = your heart giving him whatever he wants.
Jon loves being called a good boy and loves when he's given attention, especially when he has his caregiver's full attention.
Loves to let his caregiver brush and touch his hair.
Can't go to sleep without holding his caregiver and his Ghost plushie.
Jon is extremely sensitive and, in the beginning, finds it extremely difficult to express his feelings. He also will initially be difficult to read his age, so having pull-ups is a necessity for him.
Loves to play with foam swords and make believe. His personal favorite is getting play as a prince.
Hi hi!! Was just wanting to put in a request for the fic you work on next- absolutely no pressure and if you don't want to don't worry about it- for Dungeon is Friend (baby etho and helpful decked out) <3
~Constellationprincess
i was hoping to post this with the fic attached but brain wont let me sjdfkls . i'll get to it! yes! as soon as i make time for it i'll write it :]
If there's one thing Niklaus knows about the Riptide Pirates, it's that they're an awfully persistent bunch.
"Chip," he places his hand atop Chip's, and carefully removes the boy's fingers from his sleeve without looking up from his map, "there are far better ways to get my attention than ruining my clothes."
Chip shifts on his feet, his hands grasping the front of his own shirt now. His mouth opens and closes several times, but no words come out.
Niklaus rotates the compass and scratches out another note beside an island before Chip reaches out to tug at his sleeve again.
With a sigh, Niklaus pulls his arm away and turns his full attention to the boy. Chip bows his head and steps back, clutching the stuffed monkey Niklaus made for him.
"What is it, love?" he's careful to keep his voice light- scaring him never ends well.
Chip looks at the clock on the wall, then back to Niklaus' knees. He idly twists the very end of the stuffed monkey's long tail with one hand, and says nothing.
NIklaus looks at the clock.
"Bedtime?"
Chip nods.
"Alright," Niklaus removes his glasses, setting them neatly atop the map, and stands. He offers Chip a smile, runs his fingers back through the boy's hair, then takes his hand and gives it a light squeeze.
Chip leans into the touch, squeezing back with too much force and hides half of his face in the monkey's fur.
Niklaus leads him to the guest bedroom, now outfitted for a child thanks to Chip's frequent dream visits. They pause in front of the bookshelf.
"Would you like to choose a bedtime story?"
Chip points to one on the top shelf. Niklaus plucks it out.
"Oh," he smiles at the gold, glossy font set into a deep purple cover, "wonderful choice."
Chip drags him over to the guest bed, putting his monkey on top, and Niklaus chuckles at his attempts to climb into it- he sets the book aside and gives Chip a little boost, picking him up and setting him atop the duvet. Chip kicks off his boots and slips out of his socks, dumping them on the floor beside the bed. He settles back against the pillows, monkey in arms, and Niklaus settles next to him.
Chip presses close, hugging his monkey. Niklaus loops an arm around him, and opens the book to the first page.
Regressor Dorian headcannons because he's my special little guy
He spends a lot of his time in fight or flight, constantly aware of the comings and goings of everyone in the house, and he fears that taking a break will lead the people he's trying to protect getting hurt. He takes his job very very seriously.
This means that Dorian rarely takes a break- like some other objects in the house...- and his regression is involuntary due to stress/burnout from his work and being on alert all the time.
I think his age range would be all over the place, just depending on how stressed he is, and how much of a threat his brain still believes there to be. Like high stress + high threat = very distressed baby Dorian, but high stress + low threat = middle/teen Dorian, if that makes sense?
Dorian, unless he's regressed very young, will avoid/hide from the other objects because he doesn't want them to perceive him that way. He's meant to be strong, keep them safe, and how will they belive he can do that if they catch him crying and acting a quarter of his age? So he does his best to avoid them.
Sometimes it's unavoidable, depending on where he is when he regresses, because some of the other objects have fantastic caregiving instincts and will clock him before he can make his escape.
Not a particularly cooperative little- he is stubborn, and since his regression is normally negatively triggered, he's almost always processing big, strong emotions that he does not feel equipped to handle, and being regressed, he struggles to communicate these feelings and it ends up becoming very frustrating for him, and his CG at the time. Another reason why he avoids them.
Likes to be carried/held
He sometimes reaches a point in regression where he stops fighting things, let's himself be upset and process his stress and emotions, but this is very rare, because he's more likely to regress, freak out, and then eventually claw himself out of headspace and pretend absolutely nothing happened. It takes a talented CG to help Dorian go through the, much healthier, first process.
Will suck/chew the keys he keeps as a necklace. Good indicator that he's regressed/regressing and trying to fight it.
A good mix of active and eepy baby, hes quite happy to play a physical game, but also to just relax and snuggle.
I do think, over time, Dorian would start to accept his regression more, and it may even become something he does voluntarily before his stress becomes unbearable.
Okay that's all I've got for now, hope you guys enjoy!! Feel free to send requests for any date everything character and I'll do my best for oblige <3
Regressor Dorian headcannons because he's my special little guy
He spends a lot of his time in fight or flight, constantly aware of the comings and goings of everyone in the house, and he fears that taking a break will lead the people he's trying to protect getting hurt. He takes his job very very seriously.
This means that Dorian rarely takes a break- like some other objects in the house...- and his regression is involuntary due to stress/burnout from his work and being on alert all the time.
I think his age range would be all over the place, just depending on how stressed he is, and how much of a threat his brain still believes there to be. Like high stress + high threat = very distressed baby Dorian, but high stress + low threat = middle/teen Dorian, if that makes sense?
Dorian, unless he's regressed very young, will avoid/hide from the other objects because he doesn't want them to perceive him that way. He's meant to be strong, keep them safe, and how will they belive he can do that if they catch him crying and acting a quarter of his age? So he does his best to avoid them.
Sometimes it's unavoidable, depending on where he is when he regresses, because some of the other objects have fantastic caregiving instincts and will clock him before he can make his escape.
Not a particularly cooperative little- he is stubborn, and since his regression is normally negatively triggered, he's almost always processing big, strong emotions that he does not feel equipped to handle, and being regressed, he struggles to communicate these feelings and it ends up becoming very frustrating for him, and his CG at the time. Another reason why he avoids them.
Likes to be carried/held
He sometimes reaches a point in regression where he stops fighting things, let's himself be upset and process his stress and emotions, but this is very rare, because he's more likely to regress, freak out, and then eventually claw himself out of headspace and pretend absolutely nothing happened. It takes a talented CG to help Dorian go through the, much healthier, first process.
Will suck/chew the keys he keeps as a necklace. Good indicator that he's regressed/regressing and trying to fight it.
A good mix of active and eepy baby, hes quite happy to play a physical game, but also to just relax and snuggle.
I do think, over time, Dorian would start to accept his regression more, and it may even become something he does voluntarily before his stress becomes unbearable.
Okay that's all I've got for now, hope you guys enjoy!! Feel free to send requests for any date everything character and I'll do my best for oblige <3
