#me comfortable at all times is isolating. and i don't mean talking about suicide like mid-breakdown wanting to die type talk like obv be

[asiancatboy]

i wish we lived in a world where talking about suicide and suicidal ideation wasn't so taboo, treated with the sensitivity it deserves but not overcautious to the point everyone affected feels like they can't reach out or talk for fear of being institutionalised against their will

[blooming-violets]

Shit I forgot to put this in my rb but I wanted to ask what do you think would happen to reader if Peter actually went through with it? I'd like to be a but optimistic and say she surely but slowly recovers from it all but I'm not so sure. How would Aunt May react to that? Becoming a widow then a grieving mother in the span of a few years? Sorry I don't mean to be pushy but like I said I loved the way you beautifully crafted this story from an ask

Trigger Warnings!!!!: it's all about suicide and talking about it and discussing it, it is not something everyone feels comfortable reading or conversing about so please don't continue if it is too upsetting for you, Peter Parker kills himself and I write about it, Gwen's death ptsd is explored and he sees her as a rotting corpse version of herself who talks to him before he dies, the grief of losing someone you love to suicide is also talked about, it's all depressing but if you love depressing angst shit then come on over and join in (not join in on the killing yourself part jfc I mean joining in on the talking about this story) READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION only you know what you are capable of handling when you read. I can't help you any further than explaining the warnings.

Previous posts where this is all discussed:

[first part] [second part] and I rewrite this drabble from two years ago to fit this story but you can read the original here if you feel like it (it ends with less death that this one).

One of my darker, more angsty headcanons is that Peter kills himself by throwing himself off the same clock tower Gwen died in. It takes a few years for it to get rebuilt back to it's former glory. Peter patiently waits those years until it's finally finished. Almost a quiet, stoic sort of patience. A little scary with how composed he is. Like not given any indication of his plans. He wears a beautifully composed mask until the day it happens because he is so sure in his plans and doesn't want a single person to sway him from them. He's stubborn and set in his ways and this is what he feels he needs to do. This headcanon doesn't exactly fit into the story I wrote as that version of Peter is much more unhinged in his actions, and I don't think clocktower Peter could ever let himself get into a relationship because he's too obsessed with Gwen still and knows he's going to die so he's not going to bring anyone else into that mess, but it's just a little random headcanon I always had so I thought I would share since this is suicide talking hour. Maybe I can rework it a bit to fit with this story better.

Let's say unhinged Peter (as I'm calling him now lol) does let the ghosts win. What happens to our Reader character would entirely depend on when in the relationship he went through with it. If she's too far gone and too far down the hole after Peter, then I sort of fear for her future. Unless she has someone really important in her life who would help her, I think she would just keep sinking until she ended up back on that ledge, except this time there's no Peter to catch her. And I personally don't think she has anyone that close to her, especially after mentioning that all her friends stopped texting her or asking her to hang out. They all kind of gave up on her so, when she's at her lowest, I really don't think anyone would be the wiser due to the isolation they both put themselves in.

I want to rewrite something I wrote two years ago that either wasn't that great and people didn't like or it just slipped under the radar (because it wasn't about an x reader or love or anything, it was just Peter's ptsd taking over and sometimes people don't give a shit about a fic if it isn't tagged with x reader). It fits really well in this new story to help show what could go on in Peter's head with how terribly Gwen still sticks with him and what exactly it is he's "seeing" that would push him to throwing himself off a building.

Cut to me pausing to frantically google if Peter Parker could survive a fall off a building or if his super powers make him strong enough to withstand it...

Okay maybe falling isn't the best plan of action but I really like (like isn't the right word but I'm going with it) that idea of him mimicking Gwen's death because he's so haunted by it. He would want to feel what she felt. He would want to go the same way. So for the sake of this story, he's can't withstand that fall.

“Leave me alone!” Peter shouted into the dark shadows of the clock tower. He sat huddled against the newly built glass wall that domed up over his head. The bright, white light of the moon hung in the sky above him and casted wavering shadows around him to mess with his vision. The turning of grinding gears below him haunted his memories of the night Gwen died. Eight years and she still haunted him every time he dared to fall asleep.

He couldn't take it anymore. His head was a mess. His thoughts were spinning.

He was just so tired.

He had fallen asleep here accidentally. Maybe if he went to the source of the problem, she would disappear. It was a stupid plan

It only made her stronger. This was where his ghost of her was most alive.

Maybe that's why he really showed up. He wanted to see her. He wanted to finally confront his demons. She was calling to him and he had to answer.

He had slipped a crushed up sleeping pill into his girlfriends water during dinner. He carried her bed, tucked her in, and kissed her soft and gently. She didn't need to see this. This wasn't for her. She needed to be free of him. He needed to let her go before it was too late. She wouldn't understand at first but, maybe, with time...

What had time ever done for him except make Gwen stronger?

He slipped an envelope onto the bedside table beside her. One for her. One for May. He wasn't sure if he would make it home this time. His mind could still change. He could still make it back before she woke up.

But they were.

Just in case.

He couldn't leave them with nothing.

She was here now. Ready to haunt him like usual. Ready to take over and ruin him. Night after night. Day after day. She was always there. Gwen never left. She walked beside him through it all.

Tonight, she was angry. Furious. This was where he had let her die. Of course, she would be the most powerful here.

He no longer had his girlfriend to help soften Gwen's blows. There was no one to intervene. Only him and Gwen. Stuck in a staring contest. Sizing each other up.

The sunken in face of his dead lover glared back at him from just below his edge of his of his perch, trembling from the sight under him. She was standing on top of a giant gear, watching him, judging him. A large smile grew across her pale, bluing lips. It was too wide. Too big for her face. Her teeth looked rotten and jagged inside of her mouth. A trickle of blood slowly trailed out of her nostril.

“What’s the matter, Peter?” She taunted. Her sickly voice swirled around his head like a swarm of mosquitos. “Did you miss me? Is that why you came here? To see me clearly again? Well, here I am. Look at me. Dead. Putrefied. All for you. Aren't I beautiful? This is what you've done to me.”

A loud sob shuddered through his chest and ripped out his throat. He brought up a hand to wipe away the snot flowing freely out his nose. This nightmare was too familiar. He knew this too well. He didn't feel like he was dreaming this time. He never did.

If it wasn't a dream then his mind was truly gone. Distinguishing between reality and fiction was something he no longer had control over.

This was as real to him as anything.

“Please, Gwen. Please,” he pleaded with her. “Go away. I can’t do this again. Please. You have to let me go."

She tutted her tongue in annoyance and shook her head with disbelief, “Oh, Peter. I have to let you go? Do you think I want to be here?” She became climbing up the gears and the scaffolding towards him. She looked more like himself as she climbed, enhanced and spider-like, taking the movements straight out his brain until she was perching on the ledge beside him. “Do you think this fun for me?”

Peter whimpered in response. His tears were blurring his vision but he was afraid to wipe them away. He was terrified of what might happen if he took his eyes off of her, like watching a snake in the grass, it's better if you can see it in your sights instead of letting it hide and able to strike.

Gwen walked with slow, purposeful steps towards him until she stood directly over him as he cowered backwards on all fours. Under the pale moonlight hanging above them, her skin turned yellow, painted with purpling hues and blacks, and rotting away around her cheekbones to show parts of red, bleeding muscle under the pulled back skin. Her, once vibrant, blonde hair now hung in patchy strands from her head. Most of her hair had fallen out leaving her balding and sickly. When she smiled, browning, broken teeth shone back at him, they hung lose in her jaw, rattling around when she spoke.

She was a walking, decaying corpse sent to haunt him every time he closed his eyes.

“Look at what you’ve done to me!” Her shrill voice echoed off the glass walls. She spun around to show him the back of her head. Her skull was caved in. Parts of brain matter clung to her hair and blood stained what was left of the blonde a deep red. She turned back to face him, leaning in close so she was mere inches away. He could smell the heavy scent of freshly dug dirt and wet grass clinging to her rotting finger nails like she had clawed her way straight out of the ground to find him.

She snarled, “You did this, Peter! This is your fault!”

Peter flinched and scrambled backwards to get away from her, “No! Please, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I didn't know...I didn't know...I thought I could catch you. I thought I could save you. I'm sorry. Please, Gwen. Please. I'm so sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t change the fact that I’m dead,” she smirked, eyes darkening, enjoying his torment. She sunk down to her hands and knees to crawl over him, pressing her skeletal body against him, until he was laying flat against the ground with no where else to go.

"Look at me," she whispered into his ear. “I was going to go Oxford. I was going to be a scientist. I was going to change the world. The only way I can change the world now is by letting the worms feast through my flesh until there is nothing left. Something tasty for the bugs. That's all I am now.”

Peter whimpered, turning his head away from her and flinching into himself.

He heard her sniffle like she was about to start crying. He hated hearing her cry.

"Don't you love me anymore, Peter?" She whined. "Don't you care about me? Why did you find someone else? Why did you forget me so quickly? I loved you so much and you left me for the worms. Only they kiss my skin now."

His heart sank and guilt flooded him. Slowly, he turned his head to face her, blinking up at her. For a moment, she looked just like he remembered. Beautiful. Whole. Healthy. Alive.

Peter gave a shuddered, shaky breath, whispering in awe, "Gwen."

She beamed down at him. There were no rotting teeth, no blood, her hair was full and luscious. She was glowing under golden light with happy tears in her eyes like his memory of her on top of the Brooklyn Bridge.

"Kiss me," she whispered against his lips. "Like you used to."

Peter's eyes slipped close. His heart ached.

"I can't," he mumbled back. "I love someone else now. I love her like I loved you. She..."

He needed to get back to her. She needed him. He needed her. He should have never left her tonight. He had to leave.

A wailing growl shot ice through his veins as Gwen let out a shriek of pain as if she had read his mind. She was back to her decaying corpse. The sight terrified him.

"You will not leave me! I won't let you! You're mine, Peter! Mine!"

Peter kicked up his feet to shove her off of him. He scrambled backwards away from the haunting vision.

"I can't, Gwen," he pleaded. "I can't be with you anymore."

He frantically shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut, in an attempt to make her disappear. Usually by now, his girlfriend would hear him screaming. She'd be here to block Gwen from his sights. She'd be there to force her away until he was safe.

Tonight, there was no one but him.

"This isn't real," he muttered to himself. "She's not really here. She's dead. She's buried underground. Locked in a coffin. This isn't real. When I open my eyes, she'll be gone."

He peaked an eye open. A sense of relief washed over him. He was alone in the clock tower. There was no one here but him.

He could still go home. He could still make it back to her before she woke up and rid her bed side of those letters.

She would never have to know.

Peter took a deep breath, half way through exhaling it when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

Gwen's decomposing face poked into his peripheral vision as she whispered menacingly in his ear, "Boo."

He screamed, jumping away, to the sound of her taunting laughter.

"I'm still here, Peter!" She cackled. "You can't get rid of me that easily! I am always going to be here. I am always going to follow you. I will never let you go." Her voice softened. Almost sweet. Sad. Longing. "Because I'm your path, Peter. I am always going to be your path. Follow me everywhere just like you promised. I want you to follow me. I need you..."

She reached out her hand for him to take. The skin had rotted away around the tips of her fingers leaving nothing by bones reaching for him.

This wasn't his Gwen. His Gwen was dead. She was buried in the ground surrounded by fresh flowers. The thing in front of him was nothing but a product of his own twisted mind. Birthed from his guilt and excruciating pain. A monster of his own creation.

"I can't," he choked out through his tears. "Someone else needs me now. I'm sorry. I love you. I will always love you. But I can't follow you. Not yet."

Anger flashed over her darkened, bloodshot eyes, “No! You promised you’d follow me anywhere. Follow me to the grave, you liar!”

Peter cringed at her harsh words. Tears blurring his vision. He had promised.

"Gwen, please," he begged. "Let me go."

Her face softened. He watched her grow back into old self again. Her rich purple dress. Lace tights. Knee high boots. Pale blue jacket. All highlighting her perfectly beautiful face. Large, bright green eyes without a blonde hair out of place. Always so put together. Always nothing less than perfection.

"You want me to go?" She asked, turning around slowly for her to take him in. There was no crack in the back of her skull. No blood.

His breath caught in his throat. He tried to reach out for her, to draw her closer against him, but she stepped away. Just out of his reach.

"You want me to go so I'll go." She whispered. "But you'll have to watch. Again and again and again. You'll have to listen to the sound of my skull cracking against the pavement. Hear my spine snap as your web jerks me upwards. Smell my blood pouring from my open, split open head." A trickle of red blood started to leak out her nose as her eyes closed. "Only you can make it all stop. Only you can make me go away. You know exactly how to do it, Peter. All you have to do is follow me. Just like you promised. Follow me and it will all end."

He blinked through his tears, taking a slow step towards her.

"Follow you," he muttered in a trance like state. "I'll follow you anywhere you go. You're my path. I'll write my love for you across the Brooklyn Bridge so everyone in New York can see it."

She smiled, soft and sweet, "Follow me. Don't leave me alone. Stay with me, Peter. Forever."

"Forever..."

Her arms out stretched to her sides and she leaned back, stepping off the ledge and sinking out of sight past the giant gears, hurdling straight towards her death.

"No!" He shouted.

Without thinking, without caring, Peter leapt after her. He had done this move so many times in his nightmares. He had obsessively walked through every single second of her death. Again and again just like she said. He knew it better than he knew himself.

He jumped on instinct. He leapt after her like he always did.

Keeping his promise. Following her down any path she took.

I know you asked how May and Reader would respond to such a thing afterwards but that's like one topic that's just a little too hard for me to write about. I know it's weird that I can talk about Peter throwing himself to his death and I can write about depression and suicidal ideation and self harm and ptsd and guilt and feelings of worthlessness but writing about someone like May (who I relate far too much to my own mother) finding her boy dead is just a hair too much for my heart to take haha. I was originally going to write a scene of his funeral but then I was like nah too much for even me. I can't watch May cry over her dead kid.

I will say that he would be buried next to his parents under the same gravestone which sits besides Ben's. It's a few rows down from Gwen so Peter can always be near her.

I don't even think I actually answered your original ask but I got carried away with Peter in the clock tower!

Also May puts matching flowers on both Peter's and Gwen's graves every time she visits. hahahaha i gotta stop writing fuck me

[dudeshusband]

I know having people talk to you from behind a screen isn't fulfilling, and definitely doesn't make up for the love you should be receiving from friends and family irl, but I promise I really only mean the best when I say I care about you. Maybe it's a drop of ink next to an ocean of water, but that's the best I can do and i want to give you that much.

And I don't think you're being unreasonable, I just think there's a difference between what is presently happening and what is speculation on the future. Saying "I am lonely" isn't unreasonable, it's your feelings and that's completely valid, I'm not trying to argue with that. But saying "we wouldn't be friends if we met irl" is self-derisive speculation and honestly comes across as a little... defeatist, maybe? That's not the word I want, I don't mean it to sound that harsh, but I think the part we may find "unreasonable" is the way you brush most of our attempts to comfort you off as "well you wouldn't care" when at the core of it, do you really know we wouldn't? You're assuming we'll stop caring because that's the value you place on yourself, but that doesn't mean we place the same value on you. You're your own worst critic, and I promise that voice in your head is not the same voice we all hear when we think about you. I think you're an intelligent, caring, and genuinely thoughtful person, and whether you believe it or not, I really DO think we would be friends irl

I know it probably doesn't help as much as I'd want it to, but I'm not sure what else I can do. It really hurts to see you beat yourself up, especially when that turns into this projection about how you expect to be treated. I want to be your friend. Online and irl. I wish I could know you in real life, because you seem like a genuinely interesting person and someone I would like to know.

And this isn't coming from nowhere, by the way. I was intensely isolated during my early teen years due to medical issues and it absolutely stunted my social life, I was incredibly lonely and felt like every friendship I had was temporary and I still sometimes slip into those thought patterns, but I can speak from experience when I say that if you keep believing everyone will leave you, you will unconsciously end up driving people away.

Tell yourself that you're worthy of friendship, because you are. Even if you don't believe it right now, you are. It will get better - and please don't brush this off as "maybe it did for you but I'm different", because I was in the same place. I was horribly depressed, lonely, and in pain, and it led to suicidal ideation; I understand what you're feeling. It sucks, and you have to fight for it, and there are times when it's utterly exhausting, but it will get better if you try to start training out those damaging thought processes.

i don't want to. I admit it. i don't want to fight for anything. i want to quit. i don't want to keep trying to be friends with people. i don't want to exist anymore. i don't see the point. I'm defeated and i want it to be over now.

i'm not capable of thinking I'm worthy of love. I'm bad at keeping people around. i can't convince myself of anything that i can't prove. i can't be a person. i don't want to be a person anymore.

i don't want people to block me over drama i'm not involved in anymore. i don't want people to stop talking to me no matter how many times i try to pick up a conversation again anymore. I'm tired of everyone leaving me no matter how good of a friend i try to be. people don't value my friendship. they don't. i'm not cut out for this. I'm no good at making friends or keeping friends or anything social. I can't figure it out.

i have no one that makes this fight worth fighting. i hate me. i can't like me. i try and it doesn't work. i hate my body more than anything in the world and it hates me.

[odiesbun]

♡...Stray Kids: Yandere Type. Pt. 2...♡

There may be errors in the text, as my native language is not English. Thank you for your likes and your request!

genre: angst

warning: there is a lot of violence, killing, blood, cuts. References to food and suicide, please read with caution! At some points, the participants are not similar in character.

w.c: 2.2k

a/n: this part didn't fit in hyun-line, so I made it next ;))

♡Han♡

Kidnap: Oh... If Jisung is really in love with you and you really make him feel jealous and possessive, at first he'll break down and dismiss thoughts of it, arguing that you already think he's weird without it, but one night he'll just spit on everything, sneak into your apartment, put you to sleep, and the next morning you'll find yourself chained to a chair in his apartment. I don't think he'll ban you to the basement right away, at first he'll just tie you up when he's busy. But once his love for you grows and you're already moving around his house comfortably, he'll start locking you in separate rooms, and then the situation will come to the basement.

Hurting you: I don't think he would hurt you physically, but he would take advantage of you. I mean... He will hurt HIMSELF in front of you, whispering frantically about how it's your fault that his hands are now covered in blood. He will threaten to kill himself if you don't do what he wants or try to somehow get away from him.

- „Don't turn away. Look what you've done... Look what you've brought me to. Look how much I love you.” - Jisung crawls madly toward you, touching your face with his bloody hands and forcing you to look at him, not letting you turn away or close your eyes.

Killing: In a fit of anger and a fit of madness, he may well kill a man. Jisung is a rather violent person, so I think that in addition to killing a person who is in close contact with you, he can also accidentally kill you. For example, in a fit of anger, he might get jealous and talk about how you don't love him at all. He might either push you off the balcony or stab you with a knife.

- „No... No, no... NO! I really did it!? Don't die, don't die, please, I love you...”

The way he acts with you: Again, Jisung is a terrible possessive person. So in his conversation and his actions, he will emphasize several times the fact that you are only his, you are completely in his power. Certainly he doesn't think of you as his thing to use, but you're not one to live independently without his involvement in your life either. According to him, if you don't love him, you'll never find a better guy than him, no one will bring you a glass of water in your old age, and you'll basically become... Worthless?

- „If you reject me again, you'll certainly never find anyone better than me. Believe me, I'll take care of it.” - Jisung smirks, an abnormal, slightly aggressive glint in his eyes.

Torture: I think the only torture he'll use is isolation from society. He knows that sometimes people are afraid of being alone and of being abandoned, so if you're afraid of that too, he'll do it. He likes to push you and your fears, he definitely knows where to push to make you hysterical and realize his mistake. However, if you're going to be the one who's going to enjoy being alone on the contrary, he'll have to work especially hard to come up with a new moral torture for you. Yes, Jisung is a fan of moral torture.

- „Sit here and think about your behavior.” - Han says in a cold tone as he closes the cellar door, making you gasp in tears and beg not to leave you.

♡Felix♡

Kidnapping: Yes, he will kidnap you. I think he'll do it as soon as you manage to get acquainted. He'll follow you for weeks beforehand, gather enough facts about you and realize that you're his future destiny, you'll be one hundred percent his. Well, for all intents and purposes, because now you only live in his apartment. He won't let you go out because he knows a lot of people have already reported you missing and he's afraid for his life and that «those evil, worthless people» will take you away from him.

- „Don't even think about looking out the window. Silly, the police are looking for you, their interrogation will be much worse than you think, so you'd better stay living with me. Forever.”

Hurting you: Felix loves it. But the fact that you take an awful long time to recover afterwards, your fractures and bruises and cuts interfering with Felix's fun and your punishment - makes him terribly angry. He has to take care of you like an incapable child, helping you to move around, eat and drink, and these activities make him very tired. So sometimes Felix is kinder to you, if your limbs are still bandaged and not in the best condition, then Felix will take pity and forgive you.

- „Next time you'll definitely get the punishment you deserve.”

Murder: ...No. No doubt Felix as Yandere is very cruel, but I don't think it would come to murder. Yes, he would kidnap you, make you suffer torture and almost choke on your tears from the hopelessness of the situation, but nothing more. He wouldn't dare kill you or someone you care about. He has had to experience the pain of losing a loved one several times before, and it is far worse than torture, so he thinks it is too serious a punishment. Especially, Felix doesn't want to get his hands dirty in blood, and his soul is already very sinful judging by what he did to you...

- „Are you going to kill me?” - You whisper in fear, already ready to accept your hard end of fate. Felix's knife falls to the floor, he is silent for a few seconds.

- „Kill? You? No. That wouldn't be any fun, then what would be the point of killing you?”

The way he behaves with you: Actually, I see a vague answer. On the one hand, he will constantly mention how much he loves you and that you are only his, but on the other hand I see a bit of a distorted picture and that he will use you exclusively for his fun. Like torture and bullying and all that. So, Felix has very strong mood swings and it's hard to know what kind of mood he'll be in tomorrow if you break his rules.

Torture: Such an innocent, sweet boy... Will torture himself in the cruelest way possible. Felix's mindset toward love is rather unorthodox and he doesn't know exactly how to love properly, so his actions will be as chaotic as the torture he uses. He favors physical torture, especially he's a big fan of blood and tears, but he doesn't mind torturing you morally either, like Jisung. And the worse your act, the more severe the punishments, it may well make you faint...

- „You fainted again...” - He smiles, leaning toward you and wiping a drop of blood under your lip. - „Now that you're awake... We can continue your punishment.”

♡Seungmin♡

Kidnapping: Yes, if he's really in love with you, there's an eighty percent chance he'll do it. First he'll cross paths with you on the street and a perfect plan will mature in his head, so the next time you meet, he'll invite you into his apartment and then he won't even let you come out. He'll just lock you in the basement, and to anyone who asks where you've gone, he'll tell you that you just found a new apartment in a different neighborhood.

- „Don't cry so loud, my girl. No one can hear you cry anyway, and to me it's like music. You're only going to blow your lovely voice.” - Seungmin smirks, unlocking his basement door and staring frantically at the tears rolling down your cheeks.

Hurting you: I don't think Seungmin could be the cruelest contestant(because he's my bias and I love him, you know), but I also don't think he would be the softest. Somewhere in the middle, so he might very well hurt you physically. Like hitting or threatening to cut your throat, but nothing more. Seungmin is not someone who would kill his love, but he is also not someone who would fall softly on her like Chan or Jeongnin.

- „You haven't eaten in days, you're too weak to fight me now.” - He smirks as you once again try to prove to him that this attitude is terribly wrong. - „If we continue this argument, your friends and family will find you with your throat cut in the morning~”

Murder: Seungmin is a maniac... So if the person is dear to you, he will also ban him in the basement with you, make him suffer, and then kill him right in front of you if Seungmin is not happy with the person's behavior. And I also think that Seungmin will be the one who will use chemicals in the killing to keep his hands bloody. For example, poison, overdose of pills and other medications. He may even have his own lab where he creates special pills and distributes them to your «too close friends», but in the morning they will all be poisoned by the poison, but no one will be able to save them or understand the cause of death anymore.

- „Oh, what a pity. Your close friend died of a pill overdose, and your lover died of poison poisoning... Haha, people are so weak.”

The way he acts with you: Cold. He is unlikely to show his real side, the way he is in love with you, so all you will see day after day is a distraught lunatic. He wants you to be scared and feel less than him, he likes to see the fear and tears in your eyes. But he will still take care of you - bring you food when you can't do it yourself, let you sleep in his bed in the winter (because the basement is cold and damp), and uncuff you when you are tied to a chair and your arms are really tired and bruised.

- „Y/n, I brought you food.” - He silently sets the plate next to you, squatting down and propping your chin up with his hand. - „You didn't eat enough food yesterday. So today I'm going to make sure you eat it all.”

Torture: I've already talked about the fact that you'll be locked in his basement, so I'll say it again. I don't think Seungmin will torture you too much physically, but you'll definitely be tied to a chair with little electrical wires, so when you tell Seungmin to let you out, you'll get a little electric shock every time because Kim has a remote. If you try to run away, Seungmin will break bones not only in your legs but also in your arms, for which he himself will regret later, since you will have to be cared for like an incapable child.

- „Shit, get up. You have a fracture, not a missing leg, get up, it's not that serious...” - Seungmin clucks his tongue as he watches you climb the stairs from the basement.

- „I can't...” - You sob. In the next second, Seungmin is beside you, picking you up in his arms and carrying you up the stairs.

♡Jeongin♡

Kidnapping: If you refuse to acknowledge Jeongin, avoid him and all that, there's a chance he might well kidnap you to be with you ✨forever✨. You can do without kidnapping, but then Jeongin will follow your every move and become a real stalker. You'll run into him in a completely random atmosphere - whether it's right outside your apartment door, in a convenience store near your house, or even in a clear field. He will follow you EVERYWHERE, just like Chan.

- „What are you doing under my apartment door, Yang Jeongin?” - You raise your eyebrows incredulously, crossing your arms over your chest. Jeongin hesitates at first, unable to find an answer, and then blurts out an abnormal smile.

- „I just came to check on you and ask how you're doing...” - He puts his hands on your shoulders, making you instinctively pull back.

- „But we saw each other this morning?” - You whisper uncomprehendingly, flapping your eyes.

- "I know, Y/n, I know..."

Hurting you: Jeongin is not the kind of person who would hurt you physically. He will probably pretend to be hurt and deeply disappointed in you, become a little colder to you after your escape attempt, but nothing more. He is too afraid that you might leave him because of his stupid actions, he thinks that fear towards him is the deepest and most disgusting feeling that could happen to him and he will never be able to wash himself of it.

- „Hey... Hey, Y/n, no... Don't be afraid of me, please, I don't want to hurt you...” - Jeongin almost sobs, reaching out to touch your face as you recoil from him in fear.

Killing: He's too innocent and soft for that... He'd rather kill himself than you or anyone close to you. I don't think he will be too jealous, but he will also ask you every time after a conversation who this person is and if you had an affair with him.

- „Who was this man? I've seen him several times, I know you often spent time with each other... Who is he to you?” - Jeongin whispers, his eyes gleaming in the darkness of the night.

The way he behaves with you: He's a very gentle boy, so if you happen to hurt yourself, he'll take care of you. It's important for him to show you that he's really in love with you, even though it's not a normal type of relationship. If your relationship is really strong and you really fall in love with him, you could very well be considered a normal couple. You will go out together, he will take care of you, but your social circle will consist only of him and your family, no one else.

- „I brought you food, honey! Come on, I found a very nice place on the roof where we can have dinner together...”

Torture: I will once again mention that Jeongin is not the kind of person who can hurt you, so no torture. Even if he accidentally does something that could well be considered torture, he will tearfully apologize afterwards and beg you to forgive him. Jeongin is ashamed and hurt that a beautiful creature like you is getting hurt because of him.

- „I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you, please forgive me!”

©Odiesbun, 2023.

[d0enti]

Hiii this is my first time requesting on your page and I absolutely LOVE your work! ❤️

Can I request a yandere alphabet a,d,j,t with An Shiraishi and Ichika Hoshino from prosekai? No rush take your time :D

PJSEKAI—"Mindset is everything"

➵Summary:IchiAn with the Yandere Alphabet A,D,J,T

➵Warning:mention of murder

➵A/N:I'm glad you love my work,and honestly you request caused me to panic because I didn't have a Yandere alphabet but I found one (link) and I hope you like it, and you too dear reader enjoy~!

⎯ 〈An〉

Affection

An shows it quite normally I say, cuddling and kisses and all that you wouldn't even think she's a yandere, An loves you a lot and whenever she wants affection from you she gets it mean who wouldn't want to give affection to someone like her? Full of passion and still going through the loss of Nagi-san, she just needs your love

Darling

Not really, An wouldn't go as extreme, as she doesn't want you to know after all, I don't think she would even abduct you unless you find out, and that pretty much won't happen because she's careful about what she does, she's not that stupid while getting rid of her rivals

Jealousy

Of course she gets jealous, who does this person think they are?! An wouldn't lash on you that's for sure, it's her reputation as normal girlfriend on the plate but she will still kill that person in an alleyway when nobody is looking, An would probably find a way to cope by saying you didn't want to talk to them and she's doing the right thing

Tears

An feels heartbroken, she understands you that's how she felt when Nagi-san died, she would comfort you as much as she can and if possible kill the person who made you cry, the same goes for screaming but she's more aggressive while killing the person as if she's letting out you anger, now if you isolated yourself she would try to get you out with stuff like watch her perform or go on a date to her father cafe

⎯ 〈Ichika〉

Affection

Quite similar to An, Ichika likes affection but shows it a normal amount so you won't know she's a yandere, I mean think about it a girl that has a band with her childhood friends it's cute isn't it? And it's especially cute if you can cuddle to her while she plays the guitar, and even better it doesn't seem intense!

Darling

Just like An nothing big really, actually now that I think about it, it is big if you realize that a few of you friends just hate you out of nowhere why? Is it because you spend more time with Ichika or she just told them to back off or else something bad happens, it's not like you believe them Ichika is a sweet girl

Jealousy

Occasionally she does get jealous, though not because of Leo/need she knows they won't steal you from her, I mean everyone knows the best friend code don't they? About dating your best friend ex or flirting with your best friend lover, now let's say someone flirting with you even though you told them to back off, well just a missing person not important they definitely not tied to a tree god knows where

Tears

Ichika also feels down together with you, she even tries to cheer you up playing you favourite song or singing it to you, and it the stars are going to show that night she takes you stargazing, but now if she finds out who is it they will either get their reputation destroyed until they commit suicide or just get killed by her, she will definitely murder them if you angry because of them, now if you try to isolate yourself she will join you cuddling you and singing to you to help you get better

[donnas-dollface]

"you’re a bandit like me, eyes full of stars”

last updated; Aug. 25, 2024

Requests: closed!

time zone: (GMT -7)

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚about me; 17, she/they pronouns, demi lesbian - hi, i'm Kaylee. I like to play sports, and singing taylor swift lyrics when needed. I live to yap especially about my wife :3

my blog; The Last of Us, TLOU 2, Red Dead Redemption 2, RE 8, Call of Duty MWII... - a couple of fandoms I'm involved in, and write for :) i may add more or remove a few depending on what changes, what I'm obsessed with, etc etc,.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚personal rules: I don't mind adults interacting my blog and content, however i draw my line at NSFW blogs and trying to message me. I also don't mind being friends/mutuals with anybody, though i would appreciate it if we kept flirting out it (i have a girlfriend whom I love dearly). I have the habit of isolating when i’m stressed so i apologize if i accidentally ghost you.

Blogs Rules;

THIS BLOG IS LGBTQIA+ FRIENDLY. if that makes you uncomfortable, it's best you just leave. i mean c'mon, I'm literally a lesbian.

I HEADCANNON CERTAIN CHARACTERS AS LGBTQ+. that makes you mad, no clue what to tell you lmao.

THIS IS A SAFE SPACE FOR ANYBODY (EXCEPT CREEPS) i promise I don't judge and I don't mind anybody venting to me. we're all human here and I'll do my best to make you feel welcomed.

DISCLAIMER; IT'S NOT COMPLETELY SFW HERE. i tend to be overzealous about things and sometimes the humor will show out

Tags;

.kaylee's yapping - feel free to block this tag!! this is where i ramble and just talk nonsense so if you don't wanna listen :3

.lovey dovey- me talking about my super amazing and beautiful girlfriend

.mailbox! - where i respond to anons/moots/requests/asks and anything under that category!! feel free to stop by and say hey time to time!

.moots<3 - my mutuals!! each has their own specific tag, and this is where we yap.

i cannot promise but I will TRY to tag all posts appropriately, but i apologize if I don't beforehand. I'm very forgetful and welp-

Requests Rules;

I DON'T TAKE REQUESTS ROMANTICIZING ANY SENSITIVE TOPICS; by this i mean I don't take requests romanticizing or glamorizing rape, domestic violence, abuse, suicide, self-harm, racism, homophobia, transphobia, pedophilia, and so on.

I DON'T WRITE HARD CORE SMUT; i don't write smut or anything with sex. i however don't mind writing make-out scenes or hickey scenes. do forgive me though, I may write it a bit weird(i have 0 experience) but I'm not opposed to criticism!

I DON'T WRITE ANYTHING INVOLVING; homophobia, transphobia, pedophilia, incest, pro-shipping, or yandere themes. like heavy heavy themes.

I ONLY WRITE FOR FEMALE CHARACTERS; i just really love and appreciate women, it's the lesbian in me

I WILL ACCEPT ANYTHING INVOLVING POLYAMOROUS RELATIONSHIPS IF YOU PLEASE; i don't mind it really I've done it before. just not like sibling x reader x siblings please.

I ACCEPT FICS FOR COPING WITH STUFF BUT PLEASE PUT A TW OR CW WITH IT; i get it, we love to imagine our favorite comfort characters comforting us with our issues, but a warning of knowing what I'm getting into is appreciated, cause i too have parental issues and trauma

I ACCEPT REQUESTS WITH MORE THAN ONE CHARACTER; but also for longer requests, i appreciate it if we'd limit it? i don't wanna burn myself out

I HAVE A LIFE TOO, SO PLEASE BE PATIENT WHEN REQUESTING; I'm a senior in highschool, and i do do extracurriculars sometimes after school, so please be patient with me. i also have familial issues, so sometimes it burns me out. In addition, I have seasonal depression and autumn makes it a littlee harder.

that's all for now. throughout my time here this will probably be edited so check in time to time, thanks.

- kaylee

[kob131]

Unfortunately this isn’t Monkey 60, it’s someone else. The big issue that manga made and I can see it is how ultimately nothing matter. Don’t mistake my intentions, loving who you are is a great message but when the message involves a character being ignored while showing signs of heavy depression to the point of being not alive (I’m hoping this phrase is okay) and them magically getting over it feels sorta disgusting. It’s like a bad form of coping that I feel is more toxic than positive and the writers are trying to paint it like committing not alive (again I’m hoping this phrase is okay) and being reborn makes all the problems go away.

Thanks for coming back Anon.

And considering you're talking to a guy whose had suicidal thoughts and has depression- you could have just said 'comitting suicide' and it would have been fine.

I hope you see this because I'm gonna be bearing a lot here.

I feel like Kamen doesn't understand the complexities of depression and suicidal thoughts.

The mentioning of how Ruby's friends and family don't show concern for Ruby? That's not true. They do show concern for Ruby. Everyone is visibly uncomfortable when Ruby gives the parting line at the end of V9 E2. Blake tries to comfort Ruby during E7 and remind her of staying cheerful. Yang...does this three fucking times.

Do you want to know what Ruby herself does each time? She rejects them. She pushes them away or shoots down their concerns. Then she explodes on them for things that are either not their fault or just trying to move on.

RUby wasn't ignored- She felt ignored because she was isolating herself.

And just as well- Only Ruby could pull herself out of that slump. Only Ruby could pull herself out of that hole she dug herself in. Only Ruby could overcome that.

'But isn't it really wrong to just have your character magically get over suicidal depression after a small talk?'

Maybe. But you know what would be worse than Ruby's situation?

Losing the only man who ever believed in you, showed faith in you and guided you. Your so-called comrades not only TRULY ignore your pain, one of them even says that you're at fault for his death because you had an emotional episode and he died saving you. And all he gets is a minor call out by his sister. But you getting up in your friend's face, putting blame on him for your bro's death because of his religion? That's a big no-no. And the only person to actually try talking to you is some girl you found about a day ago. But hey, it's all better now! The girl you use to have a crush on told a story about your bro that you might have not even heard and you're all better after a speech!

I mean, what awful, no good, poorly written, obscure trash could that even be-

Oh. It's not only one of the most well remembered scenes in one of the most well beloved recent anime-

It's the story of the character who inspired me to keep living.

Yeah, I wasn't just saying bullshit to defend RWBY when I said I've had suicidal thoughts. That is something i legitimately went through. Back when i was in high school, with depression destroying my motivation to work on my grades, my mom screaming her head off at me about how I was ruining my life, how I hated how angry and temperamental I was. I legitimately thought about sliting my wrists and walking out into the snow to die.

And then i caught Kill La Kill on Toonami at my grandpa's house. I thought it looked cool so I looked it up and found Gurren Lagann. And I binged watched it. I watched a kid who went through far worse than me, finding himself in as deep a hole as me. And he pulled himself out. He found the will to keep living, to keep fighting, to break through any wall in front of him. And by the end, Simon was a true hero.

And that inspired to keep living.

I'm sorry but the arguments Kamen and so many make about Ruby's arc would also apply to Simon's. That there's no self reflection? Simon proceeds to do reckless bullshit throughout the series.

That no one cares about them and no one reflects on how they affected them? Team Dai-Gurren legitimately NEVER check up on Simon or try talking to him. NIA did more for him than they did and she knew him for a fucking day.

That what they did to them was toxic? Gee, at least Team RWBY admitted they may have made a mistake. Kittan, the guy who threw Kamina's death into Simon's face, acts like he always knew he was okay and he suffers no consequences for his actions.

That they're magically okay afterwards? Trying to show me a picture of Ruby coming back and Simon coming back would be like that Office meme- they're the same damn picture.

In every regard, for me to accept that RWBY fucked up would be to accept that Gurren Lagann fucked up as bad if not WORSE. And that doesn't work considering it resonated with me enough to keep going.

So I hope you understand why I don't think these arguments work. Especially since I know quite a few of these guys are Gurren Lagann fans.

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

TW : systemic problems with education, childhood trauma, abuse, neglect, heavy gaslighting, bullying.

I just need to vent, comfort is appreciated but no pressure.

So basically I asked a teacher about systemic issues because I'm trying to find resources to help my little brother and it didn't go well

This person went to my uni for a presentation and she actually seemed to care, so I tried to ask about issues I've been through myself as a teen, and my brother is currently going through.

His/ my old middle school is a trauma farm at this point, there's overwhelming bullying and neglect, ect. My brother made some connections so it's not as bad, but I was left all alone because I had good grades (I was studying all the time because of family pressure & isolation).

I wanna to add that I'm french and while I haven't been to many other countries, from what I know we have a lot of elitism and pressure to perform academically. No matter how you feel, studies are the priority. Terrible circumstances like this are the perfect receipie for bullying - these kids have no outlet, so they turn to violence.

I thougt that maybe I could help my brother and the other kids if I tried to ask someone who cares, as a young adult and not a "kid" that no one believes. And all she said was that my brother should "tell the adults". The same adults I just explained do not care, do not help. It's like all they know is to repeat that you just need to seek help while blatantly ignoring those who fall through the cracks.

I'm not asking that person to fix everything, I know she can't and I'm glad she cares about her own students. But I was hoping to at least find something that could help. Or acknowledge that this problem exists, and explain it to me, or give me any advice in supporting my sibling..

My friend gaslit me as well, saying that it's too big of a problem. But to me we can't just brush this off, no matter how "impossible" it is.

Children are suicidal, they die from it sometimes. Some, like me, carry horrible trauma when they grow up. Mental illness develops or worsens. Those kids need help, no matter how "complicated" it can be for the adults.

I don't mind people who say "I can't fix everything, but I'll try to help", because they actually admit that there's a problem. Just a bit of honesty would mean so much to me.

I'm going to be okay because I'm better in uni, but it needs time to "pass", I feel really hurt.

Hi anon,

I'm so sorry about what you and your brother have been going through. Please know that it's understandable to feel hurt by all of this.

While I'm not French, I've been learning a lot about French culture and identity in college lately and I've specifically been learning about the elitist mindset that seems to ignore mental health and other pertinent issues regarding health and safety.

It sounds like the person you talked to maybe should've been more compassionate towards your situation and not just refer you to other people that have already proven unhelpful.

I think you're right that these issues shouldn't necessarily just be brushed off, they deserve acknowledgment and preventative measures. You're absolutely right that suicide is an important issue especially among children, and should be taken way more seriously than it is. People shouldn't wait for suicides to occur to help prevent it from occurring again. You're right that they need help no matter how complicated it may be for the adults involved.

Even if no one else acknowledges it, it is a problem, although there's only so much I can do. But it's still worth giving what I can, just as the other people involved.

I hope I could help. Please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

[kranom]

hi don't mind me I just need to overshare about my deeply personal relationship to a video game so I don't explode. um I mention suicide ideation but only in the past-tense.

Pillars of Eternity means so much to me. it was exactly what I needed at the perfect time. I only played it because I was in an awful place mentally and I wanted to watch an avatar of myself die - it felt like the sort of game that would have a heroic suicide ending, killing yourself to save the world and watching ending slides where everyone mourns you.

I expected the Watcher to be a standard protagonist. the specialest little guy in the world, loved by all once they start sticking their nose into the right peoples' business.

and then they started hallucinating, like I do. and they started having visions of themself doing terrible things to people, like I do. they started having night terrors and twitching and talking in their sleep, a thing that had started happening to me months before I played the game.

so then I expected fallout. I expected their companions needing to be convinced that they're not an inherent threat, that it's safe to be around them, that they know it must be so scary to watch someone grapple with perceived psychosis. the game, I expected, would be about convincing everyone in the world you're a hero instead of a monster.

and then!! the opposite happens. the companions and the narrative acknowledge that the focus should be on the Watcher, that their comfort and safety takes priority in this new and likely frightening situation they find themself in.

I still tear up thinking about the companions' reactions. Hiravias stopping everything to make sure his new friend isn't hurt or physically sick, everyone else casually saying that, yeah, sometimes the Watcher stares off at nothing and talks to themself in a dead language, but it's okay, it's just something they do. no cause for alarm.

Kana offering to get the Watcher set up with a job in Rauatai if they don't like adventuring(only to apologize in case it sounded like he was mocking what they're going through, telling them he'll always be there to listen if all the soul-reading starts to weigh on them). Edér threatening to dump water on them if they take too long to wake up from their nightmares, his thinly-veiled anxiety framed as being scared for the Watcher, not because of them. if Hiravias has a conversation like this, I've never seen it, and I'd do anything short of learning how to code and tear the scripts out of the game just to see it.

on another note, Hiravias!! raised to worship a God that he's told hates him for the form he's most comfortable taking, seen as a monster by his family. my most beloved trans allegory, he felt like a reflection of me- but where I leaned into my demonization, seeing myself as a pariah in order to protect others and my isolation as something a brave soul might save me from- he leaned away from it. he insisted, in the face of all this betrayal, all these years of isolation, that he was a person, that nothing he did could ever take away his personhood. Hiravias felt like someone giving me permission to do the same. to believe the same things. I'm a natural rule-follower; that permission changed my life.

I know it's all fiction, it's just a game, every interaction runs on a script. but those scripts are sources of hope for me. I've never had anyone check in on me while I'm having an episode, I've never been told that I'm not a monster, but in this small emulation I can imagine what it would feel like. more than that, I'm not putting myself in the shoes of a seemingly neurotypical protagonist who's suffering under fantastical circumstances. to an outside observer the Watcher is hallucinating. they're describing what sounds like intrusive thoughts. this is what characters are reacting to, with kindness and empathy to an extent I wouldn't have thought to dream of.

the first time I played the game, I rushed through it. I didn't touch the DLC. I wanted to know where the punchline was. I wanted to see how the Watcher was ultimately punished for mental illness. for 17 hours I tensely waited for a punchline, but it never came. so I played it again, immediately, because no other piece of media before or since has had such a profound effect on me.

I saw parts of myself, parts that I hid and hated, dragged to the forefront of a conversation I could easily step away from. my entire view of myself was destroyed and rebuilt kinder within the span of a few days. other things about me changed, too. I was in a perfect position, vulnerable and raw and falling ass-backwards into a new lease on my life, to truly accept other things the game said.

I was raised in an awful, close-minded household. I will spend the rest of my life unlearning things my mother taught me, I think. I had been doing an okay job of it, though I still associated strength with violence. perfect time, perfect place- my Watcher pointed out that Kana was likely inherently violent due to his size, and he responded by asking them if they held other (fantasy) bioessentialist views, if they saw orlans as animals, and I chewed on that for a long time. there's a running theme in general that we don't choose the forms we find ourselves in, and Pillars of Eternity helped me internalize that. Kana was a lynchpin there, as unremarkable as other people seem to find him.

I think I've explained my mindset at the time pretty well. I mentioned that I played this game solely hoping to play suicide. there's a point in the third act where the Watcher asks how to cure their hallucinations, and they're told that killing themself might make things go away, at least for a while. when I reached this conversation, I, without thinking, immediately dismissed the idea. the game had been telling me that being alive and mentally ill, being alive and entirely isolated, being alive and traumatized is always better than being dead. and somewhere along the way I started believing that.

after playing this game, it genuinely felt like I was seeing in color for the first time. that might sound ridiculous and corny, but I felt like someone had looked at all the worst parts of me and told me I was no less worthy for them. and suddenly everything seemed visibly brighter, painfully bright. I would take my dog outside and the grass burned my eyes. I could feel my own heartbeat, something I tended to block out because I resented it. a sudden constant thrumming in a world that hurt my eyes. I was overwhelmed, overwhelmed for months. and it was indescribably wonderful.

[mythology-void]

crucifixion (catharsis pt. 2)

I changed my mind.

Did you?

Well, no. But I may have lied.

Tell me.

I told you that I like sad music because it lets me feel emotions without having to experience the trauma that comes with them.

You did.

I told you that I like sad music because it lets me be alone, but not isolated.

You did.

And you told me something about misery loving company--

I gave you a warning; "does misery love company, or do you need company, so you seek misery." Remember?

Yeah.

Okay. What about it?

I think you might be right.

How so?

I don't always like sad music just because it's sad, or because it lets me feel things. Sometimes I like it because it lets my sadness switch places.

What do you mean?

Some days it's hard to feel anything. On those days, sad music is good because it helps me feel something.

Negative emotion is better than no emotion.

Exactly.

But there are other days, days where you feel too much.

Yeah.

And sad music helps then, too?

Well, on the empty days, it's like I can transfer other people's emotions to myself through the music.

But in the too-full days, you can push your emotion onto someone else in the same way?

More like something else, but yeah. I knew you'd get it.

I'm trying to. It doesn't seem like it would work--not long term, anyway.

Oh, it doesn't. It just feels less like I'm pushing my sad or my anger or my loneliness or my grieving onto someone else. I don't like projecting.

You're alone, so you can't hurt anyone, but you're not isolated, because of the music.

Mhmm.

It seems like you're still hurting yourself, though.

What do you mean?

If you're already overloaded with bad feelings, doesn't it seem like a bad idea to push more of them onto yourself?

It's cathartic in the end, right? And it's better than hurting other people.

By doing what? Reaching out? Asking for help?

By being too much. Lashing out It keeps me from crying or being angry or talking a lot.

You use sad music as a form of self flagellation.

No, I just--I don't want to be inconvenient and music helps soothe that without making every conversation about how I feel.

I don't think that's a good thing.

Well, it's hard to be a safe space for people if all your sharp edges are showing, isn't it?

That sounds like an awful way to live.

I'm sorry?

Living for other people.

I've been told it's the best way to live.

Not all the time, and at your own expense.

Other people have harder lives.

Your purpose in life is not to make everyone else comfortable all of the time. You're allowed to have feelings.

I don't try to--I'm not afraid of conflict. I yell at people all the time, I help my friends set boundaries--

Do you ever set boundaries for yourself, though?

Of COURSE I do.

Really? Because I've seen you walk two hours under storm clouds to someone's house because they asked you for a snack and you didn't want to disappoint them. I've seen you run up and down street corners on the phone with suicidal friends trying desperately to keep them alive. I've seen you do homework for people, dash around finishing other people's projects for them, offer to tutor people for free because you're worried about their home life--you do a whole lot for other people, and mostly things that inconvenience you. Why?

Maybe I just love people. Did you think about that? Maybe I'm just a considerate person.

That's exactly what I'm thinking about. I'm thinking that you love everyone in the whole world so hard that you're not leaving any space to let yourself be loved back. I'm thinking that you love PEOPLE so much that you're unable to recognize how little they love you--or rather, how little you're allowing them to love you.

You're wrong.

Am I?

You are. I'm not selfless. I'm lazy all the time--I make things inconvenient and uncomfortable for people all the time. I make my parents angry, I disappoint the people around me and I can't do anything to help my friends when they're struggling. All those people you mentioned? They all have really hard lives--harder than mine, at the very least. They're gay and stuck in households with religious parents, or they have alcoholic parents, or got raped at 13 or are suicidal and need someone to talk to. You have no idea what they're going through--being there for them is the least I can do. They don't need to worry about me on top of all the things going on with them. I can be a safe space. I'm GOOD at that.

That's part of the problem. You think people have to need you.

They do. They have to.

Why?

Because if they DON'T, then there's no reason for me to be here. I have a reason. My reason is to help people. I have to be here for a reason.

Do you?

Don't I?

Why can't you just be? Why is you just being you not enough?

It's not.

----.

Stop.

You don't give people enough credit.

I don't know what you're talking about.

All those people could survive on their own. You think you're helping them--they might even think you're helping them--but in all reality you're using them as a crutch. They don't need you to live; you need THEM to live.

Stop.

Who are you without those people to fix? Who are you if not a healer, or someone broken to hold together?

Stop.

If you don't have an answer--

please.

...alright. Okay. I'm sorry.

...

Here.

Headphones again?

I know it doesn't help.

I know.

Truce?

[i-writes-things]

All Alone..

Natasha x daughter!teen!reader

Angst, hurt/comfort

Request- hey,I saw the request are open so how about a mama!nat x fem!teen!reader.that time when r was just starting to train, nat was already planning to leave the red room but hey got close,somehow.they're like a mother-daughter duo in secret but nat eventually have to go but she promised r that she would go back for her.years passed but she didn't came,r somehow escaped the red room too and became a stay,r discovered she have social anxiety and is really afraid of interacting with people(because of her experience) so she stayed somewhere far.weeks later after her escape,nat was tasked to retrieve some information from an isolated hydra base,when she successfully did she stumbled upon r who's trying to find food and they we're really emotional and all.nat offered r to come with her to the compound but r was reluctant and told nat about her social anxiety but she really don't want to be away from nat so she agreed anyway and nat also promised that they'll work on it.

Warnings- Swearing, suicidal thoughts, betrayal, r crying, being called a killer, Nat and r yelling, social anxiety, mentions of Nat's past, and I used a translator app for the Russian not sure if it's right. Let me know if I missed any!

A/N- I am dissing on Steve a little bit, but still love him

Not my Gifs*

"Natasha." Madame B. stood tall behind natasha, who sat on the ground, straight faced after they dragged an unconscious Y/n away "I said kill, and what did you do?"

There was a long pause, Natasha looking at the ground, making sure she kept a straight face

"I can't kill her." She said quietly knowing she would be punished for it later

"We will let the girl live, just so you can be reminded, that you are a failure."

--

Later that same night

" Я вытащу нас отсюда, Y/n." (I'll get us out of here, Y/n.) Natasha said to me as I brought the thin covers over my freezing body, I looked up at her not sure how to feel about it and just nodded

That was the last time I ever felt any sort of hope in my heart, that was the last time I talked to my mom

Days, weeks, months and eventually years, had gone by, and all the while, I became someone, someone I had never wanted to meet,

A killer.

Sometimes I wished Natasha had killed me, when we used to spare together. We both knew she could do it in an instant, if she wanted too.

After realizing she wasn't coming back for me, it didn't take long for everything to become meaningless, I mean it already was before, but this time I didn't have that last glimmer of hope, my Natasha, and this time around, I really was, truly, utterly, and completely, alone..

---

Training seemed stupid, and when I was punished, well sometimes it made me feel alive again, after feeling dead, for so, so long

There were to many to count, sleepless nights, and the bags under my eyes were a regular, crying quietly to myself, wishing so deeply that I could leave, that I could not be here, that I would- would be left for dead somewhere, I didn't wanna die here. Not in this shit hole

After a long time I finally felt like I would die here. We had orders to kill when we had Sparing matches at the end of each year, I knew I wouldn't make it, frankly I didn't wanna, but I left anyway

Which personally, I felt was to easy, but it could also be that I am a killer, I know how to infiltrate and assassinate the most powerful people in the world, can't be hard to get out of the Red Room with all that knowledge, right?

----

I remember my first time in the city, not sure where, but they spoke Russian, so I am gonna guess somewhere in Russia

The people paid me no attention, thankfully, even if someone looked my way, I could feel my nerves flare up and instantly wanted to go and hide from everyone, even myself

The overwhelming feeling that everyone was judging my old clothes and how I looked, dawned on me, and that they saw the dried cut on my hand from the when I escaped

I ran away. I didn't like it, everyone watching, judging everything I did, I didn't wanna live that life again.

Frankly, I didn't wanna live, but this little stupid thought in the back of my head kept telling me to stay, kept telling me now that I am out of there, maybe my life can be better..

-----

"Romanoff, we've got a mission. Fury just assigned us." Steve walked into the living room of the Compound

Natasha hums "Where is he sending us off to this time?"

"Some abandoned Hydra base, in Russia actually." Steve looked for Natasha reaction

"ahh, well, when do we leave?" Natasha didn't feel like giving him a reaction

"Now."

------

I had stayed here for almost 3 weeks now, some old Hydra base. Only to find that the food is minimum and it's much colder here that my former place of residency

Today however was very eventful for me I checked on all the rooms as I did everyday, cleaned the rooms I am in the most and continued to find every valuable thing in this place to sell, get myself some money, and lastly I would try to hack onto the computer again, I was able to get into it once when I first got here, but I didn't write the password down so I try a few each day, before and after my small Lunch

I was walking down the hall with a half of a PB&J taking a bite out of it, as I walked back to the security room

click, click...

I stopped abruptly, looked behind me quickly and up to the ceil, making sure there wasn't an bombs, my eyes shot around the hall as I backed up slowly to the wall on my right, then I noticed the sound of clicking

Keyword clicking

I could have easily gone through the vents and jumped down on them, and eventually killed them, but I instead chose to just walk in casually

I opened the door and almost immediately heard the safety click then whoever was in the room held there gun up towards me

I felt there eyes on me harshly and took my time looked up at them

The girl that held the gun, froze, the second we made eye contact.

I froze and felt goosebumps rush all over me.

My eyes were deceiving me, they had to be, I mean how could she have found- Why would she try to find me after all this time

"Y/n..?" The tears in my eyes wouldn't go away, no matter how hard I tried to keep my breathing slow

Natasha's senses flared and knew I was crying in the dark room

Now remembering she lowered her gun and turned the safety back on

"Просто уходи!" (Just leave!) I said as loud as my shaking voice would allow "Ты так и не вернулся. Я ждал тебя." (You never came back. I was waiting for you.)

Natasha's heart was broken, she forget to breath as she saw you break down in front of her.

I could barely breath myself as I sucked in air and coughed, but continued crying, all the times you had with Natasha popped in your head, and you begged whoever was listening to make them go away, but they never did

" Ха-ха, я выиграл. " (Hahah, I won!) little You stood over Natasha after she let you win in one your sparing matches

" Да.. " (You did..) Natasha looks at you lovingly

"Смотри, я нашел ящерицу! " (Look I found a lizard!) You held a lizard in your left hand showing Natasha at Lunchtime, in between her Ballet and training classes

"О, это очень круто, Y/n!" (Oh, that is very cool, Y/n!)She tried to share your excitement

If you held onto the lizard any tighter Natasha thought it might explode

"Hello." You spoke in English to Natasha

"hey" She seemed tired

"You," You concentrated hard on your words trying to pick the right one "Okay?" You still didn't know much

"I graduated." Little you didn't know what that meant in English

"Скажи это по-русски, Natasha" (Say it in Russian, Natasha)She looked over at you, sadness in her eyes

"Я is просто говорил, что выиграл," (I just said I won,) She had to elaborate for you "мой матч со старшими девушками сегодня." (my match with older girls today.)

You sighed knowing what winning meant and jumped up on her bed to give her a unintentionally tight squeeze around her middle

She groaned at the pain in her lower stomach but you didn't notice, as she rubbed your back "Thank you." She said quietly into your hair

The tears streamed down your broken face and with the front you always had to keep up, finally coming down, Natasha's did the same, the information she was supposed to be retrieving was all forgotten

"I am so, so sorry, Y/n." I didn't react just silent tears streaming down my cheeks

"Y/n?" I couldn't move, I couldn't feel, I didn't know what I wanted

"Дочь..?" (Daughter..?) Something you had been hiding from yourself, finally showed itself

"Y/n, who is this?" The woman asked little you

The picture of a redhead with a sad smile hung on the wall

"My mommy." You looked around the dimly lit room

The woman nodded, satisfied.

"Who is this, Natasha?" The same woman asked her

"My daughter." She said immediately, almost desperately, as if she was brain washed to say it and if she didn't, she would have been punished.

The woman nodded, once again satisfied.

"Mommy?" I couldn't help but feel like a stupid little kid

Before Natasha could say anything, your heart-felt moment turned into a angry mess

"Я ждал тебя девять лет." (I waited, 9 years for you.) You harshly wiped the tears from your face and took a deep breath, as you stood up

"Ты," (You,)Natasha's heart broke a bit more "you didn't even try and come back. You know, I broke my elbow when I was 11 and I remember thinking maybe they'll take me to a hospital, cause well I just broke my arm, but noo, I was in pain for a year, from it healing and not being allowed any pain meds. Why? I thought maybe because they didn't care or because they wanted me to suffer, maybe both. Whenever something bad happened to me I actually thought you would come back at that moment and save me, like a superhero, seems superhero duties are only for those who live in America though, right?"

Natasha didn't want to yell but it just came out

"You think I didn't want to come back! Of course I did, Y/n, but if I came back or even remotely tried, then my deflection to SHEILD would never have happened. They would have thought I had betrayed them-"

"Betrayed, them, all you think about is them, what about me? What about all those other girls? Huh? You know, I heard Lena got out. She didn't even tell me, let alone take me with her. Everyone Just keeps leaving and leaving and leaving and then I am all alone, all alone just like always! Y/n go and train, Y/n you are locked in a cell for punishment, Y/n your gonna die here, Y/n now that Natasha's gone there gonna torture you.." You sank back to the ground after a sob escaped your mouth

Natasha, eyes wide, couldn't bare the sight of you anymore and cautiously walked over near you, you flinched when she put her hand out, slowly, to wipe the tears away from your flushed face

After a moment I let her near me, and when she wiped the tears away I just cried more, finally after so long, I felt safe, and jumped into her arms, shocking Natasha and almost pushing her backwards to the ground, but her strength took over and held my shaking figure in her arms

"Natasha? Hows the mission you haven't moved in almost 20 minutes." She heard Steve's annoying voice in her left ear and moved her hand from your back to her ear, taking the comms out of it and tossed it across the room, wanting nothing more at the moment, than to comfort her daughter

-------

Steve burst into the room making the door fly across and hit the wall, just barely going over both you and Natasha's heads

I grabbed tightly onto Natasha, not sure who had done it, Natasha knew it was Steve, but she was sure you thought it was Dreykov, come to take you back

"No, no, no, no, no.." You whispered into Natasha's neck

"Y/n, it's ok, it's just-" Steve cut her off

"Natasha what the hell? Who is this!?" He shouted

"Steve will you just shut up for one moment!" Natasha was angry at him, especially because you started crying again, and she had just gotten you to stop

Steve stood awkwardly in the doorway, finally taking in the scene, you sat in front of Natasha your whole upper body leaned forward into Natasha and he heard soft crying coming from the mysterious girl on the ground

"Y/n," She pushed me away from her and wiped my tears away again "It's just Steve, he thought I was in danger, but I am not." She moved some wet hair out of my face "Мы не в опасности.." (We're not in danger..) She reassured me

-----

Steve leaves and says he will be in the Quinjet whenever you guys are ready

Natasha looks back at you, a smile tugging at her lips "Do you wanna come to the Compound with me?" She asks you softly

That last glimmer of hope starts to ignite in my heart again, when I hear her words

"But what if they-" Before you could continue Natasha cut you off

"Y/n, I will never let anything bad ever happen to you, Я обещаю, Я обещаю." (I promise that, I promise that)

You really, really wanted to believe her, but there was one other thing that scared you, scared you more than Dreykov ever did

"Natasha?" Her gaze immediately met yours "I think I have-" I hesitated "social anxiety.." I looked at the ground embarrassed "and the Compound seems really nice and I don't wanna leave you, not again, but what will they think of me..?" You ask hoping for reassurance and not the answer

"Hey," For a moment it felt like old times, when you had no idea where you were, or who were gonna be when you grew up, just an innocent little kid and her mom "They are gonna love you, just like I do, you are perfect, Y/n/n." I knew she said something else but the only thing that I noticed was the word love, I had been loved before, haven't I?

Haven't I?

"I don't wanna leave you." Is all I could think to say

"I know, I know." She cooed as another smile crept onto her face, she cupped my face and brush her thumb over my cheek

"So you want to come with me?" She asked, eyeing you kindly, as she held her breath

I nodded and put my arms around her neck

"Yes, if your gonna be there, I'm there." I smiled,

I hadn't smiled in a hot minute

It was nice, smiling and all, so maybe she really did come back for me...

I pulled away quickly "What about-"

"I'll be right here. Right next to you the whole time, we can work on it, together, ok?"

I let out a heavy breath "Да.." (Ok..) I was happy,

I hadn't been happy in while either

This feeling was foreign to me, but it felt so familiar, like a good song you haven't heard in years

--------

I remember Steve came back in, and this time I noticed his stupid ass outfit, I almost laughed, but Natasha said something to me, and we walked out as I sniffled trying to clean up my face as we walked out towards this huge plane that I guessed was the Quinjet

"Natasha, Куда мы идем?" (Natasha where are we going?) I didn't want Mr Patriotic to hear

"The Avengers Compound, located in the USA, New York." I had heard of New York before, sounded like a simple place

We had left and once we got to the ocean I was mesmerized by it



As land came into view, I could tell everything from now on, in my life was gonna be very different, a good different...



[trojanguys]

@blackcat-midnight-thatsme we wanted to make a seperate post about this but I'm not on Tumblr much and don't know how to add the comment as well 😭

Our system is kind of like family really. I don't like to talk about my trauma online but basically shit happened when I was a kid and suddenly being my "true self" was a disgrace. Except they couldn't decide which self was supposed to be the not-disgrace so bam the ego broke

Back then I didn't realise I was being traumatised. Giving your kids near-death experiences as "character building" was normal where I came from. I remember being resilient, I didn't break easy. I was just confused and scared and wanted someone to help me face everything

Enter my counterpart, Dev. He was the complete opposite of me. I liked books, he hated them. I liked sweets, he loved spice. I used to put my head down and listen to what our mom said, no matter how insane it was and he was hell bent on standing up to her.

At first it was really weird because I felt I was being immature and borderline blasphemous forming imaginary friends at 12. Especially when my strongest imaginary friend happened to be someone who wanted to k*ll my family.

We've been there for each other for a VERY long time, more than a decade now. And to be honest it feels nice to have someone with you. It was almost exactly like Steven and Marc's relationship on the show except he wanted to fight back against our abusers and protect me

Honestly back then I had very few people who truly cared about me. I was suicidal and there's no psych wards where I live. If you suicide you don't even make it to the papers. But I knew that in all that misery I had someone with me, someone who would willingly front when I was being hurt, someone who would record what exactly happened while our mum gaslit us, someone who would patch us up after a really nasty day and someone who would stop me from unaliving and give me the protective comfort I never got.

I was important to him too (he's inputting this part). I was a safe place for him, someone to hang on to as we were put through hell, someone to be there for, someone who would laugh and be kind and be everything he was not. Someone who would dream of books and sweets as he faced the shit parts of life. Someone to take care of as no one took care of him

I think we started to get closer when we turned 17. It took a huge fight for us to realise that and we slowly started to understand just how attracted we were to each other. And by that I don't mean the "I want to f** you" kind of attraction.

It's more like saving chips for the other person because they like them better, leaving out the meat from a pizza for the other person to chew on, watching series twice because you both are hyped up for it and trying to isolate memories so that you don't accidentally spoil it for each other. Killing a cockroach because the other doesn't like them and talking to kids because the other freezes up.

Notable mention: giving a test once because I literally froze up and beating away the bad thoughts with an imaginary broomstick when we were so depressed we couldn't even eat

We do fight all the time though. He's yelling at me to sleep now because we have to wake up early tomorrow lol

We've confided in very few people about us. And although they do love us we understand them feeling strange about this. But we're really two halves of a whole, kinda like soulmates except the exact opposite of each other. It's difficult to explain and I don't expect to understand either! It's cool!

Its just that honestly we don't mind others opinions about us. We're helped each other survive the worst times of our live and we'll continue to be there for each other, and if someone's against it who cares! We've fought to be here!

Someone raised a question about codependency once. Yes we are dependent on each other but that's just how our system is like. I guess the brain realised our needs weren't being met outside so we have this ecosystem up there where everyone has their roles and we fill in each others needs. We do have great communication between us, being in the same body and all so we can easily talk to each other if we feel uncomfy. We also have two "parents" in the system who help us mediate conflicts.

It's a bit difficult to date when you're in the same body and we do feel the pain of not having someone to hold but our innerworld helps with some of that. And we do go on dates sometimes. Or we can just imagine a date in the innerworld lol

We do date other people tho, our only policy is that we both should fall for them or approve of them. We don't hide things from each other and yes we've had our share of embarassing crushes. We're currently in a relationship with this wonderful person who knows about us and understands our dynamic! I never believed it would happen but it did!

So yeah this is kinda how we came into a relationship. It's a mutual give and take and ultimately we're there for each other :)

I'm sorry if this went on for too long, I was just excited to talk about this! Before moonknight it was difficult to explain our dynamic to people but now I can somewhat be open about it! I can call him my boyfriend now :D

[the-sympathetic-villain]

L’Appel Du Vide - Chapter 2

AO3 | First | Previous | Next | Masterpost

Description: Logan has been captured by a government agency who researches human with  supernatural powers. Able to manipulate the world with his mind and tell what others  are thinking, Logan finds himself in one of the most high security  government prisons in the country that's run by a sinister Dr. Emile  Picani.  After several long months of deprivation and torture at the hands of Dr  Picani, a devilish-looking man with scales on his face will break into the  prison looking for Logan's less than friendly bunkmate, but will he be  too late? Prompt by @LoganIsACoolTeacher on AO3

Endgame pairings: Lociet, Intruality, Prinxiety

Word Count: 3323

Chapter Warnings: Blood, Crying, Depression, Casual Suicidal ideation, Depriving someone of food, Captivity, Solitary confinement, Knife, Threats of violence, Swearing, Mentions of abuse/torture, Injuries, Panic Attack, Food (Let me know if need to add anything!)

---

    The first night, Logan screamed himself hoarse well into the middle of the night. His body ached with misery, as he yelled and pulled at his restraint. His wrist was bruised and he could feel a this stream of blood dripping from where the metal had cut into his skin but he kept fighting until his body collapsed with exhaustion and he was forced into a restless sleep.

    Agony burned in his chest as the long hours dragged by in absolute silence. Being alone was a rare experience for Logan and one he adamantly avoided. While the sound of the constant chattering of strangers thoughts would probably sound nightmarish to the average person, he'd grown accustomed to the comforting presence of others' thoughts. He was used to the white noise, and though he knew it was irrational, the sudden silence growing nearly painful with every hour that passed.

    The second night, the isolation started to dig its claws into the corners of his mind. The restraint on his wrist limited his movement to only a few feet around the bed and so far, he'd spent hours staring into the empty window on the far side of the room. Anger twisted in his stomach at the thought that he was likely being watched through the one-way reflective surface and he felt like screaming at his silent observers until his voice gave out, but the previous night’s experience had already proved that effort would be futile. Expending the energy would only make him hungrier.

    All he could do was wait.

    The third day, he'd woken to find the restraint on his wrist had been released while he'd slept. He blinked, unsure of what this new revelation meant for him. Rubbing his sore wrist, he sat up to scan the quiet room. The door remained closed, and likely locked, but somehow a container of water has found its way into the room. He stepped off the bed, glancing cautiously at the one-way mirror as he approached the glass jug sitting at the base of his door. He was aware of the danger. Tampering with his water supply would be a simple way to entrap him or drug him, but his thirst quickly overrode any hesitation he had. They were his only access to resources and he knew he'd have to give in eventually or risk simply dying of dehydration. Not to mention, quite frankly, if the people in this place decided to kill him, he had little recourse in stopping them. No amount of bargaining would change that fact that he was at their mercy.

    Next to the water, he found a fresh change of clothes. The sight of fresh white hospital-like clothing brought a bitter taste to his mouth as memories of the night before came rushing back. He hadn't seen a hint of another person since the doctor had left him, taking with him the only people who might be even remotely sympathetic to his situation. He brushed his thumb over the stiff fabric picturing the faces of the two other prisoners who'd been dressed in the same sterile uniform as he now held in his hand. Still, he changed his clothes, feeling a new level of numb as he changed in front of the window.

    Numbness had settled in fully by the fourth night. The hunger left him too weak to stay focused on anything for long. The water provided for him sustained his body in only the barest sense and he could feel his willpower draining away as he spent more time curled in his bed, mind blank as he succumbed to the silence. That night, a particularly sinister breed of depression had taken root in his mind, pushing him toward the precipice of giving up. Dark, self-destructive thoughts clouded his mind as finally drifted off to sleep, making his abrupt awakening all the more jarring as he opened his eyes to find a sharp blade pressed to his throat and a shadow with glowing purple eyes looming over him.

    “Move and I'll slit your throat.”

    Pure adrenaline flooded over Logan at the familiar voice. The man who'd nearly strangled him the first night straddled his chest, silhouetted against the dark room by the eerie red light. Logan swallowed, barely breathing as he as he pressed himself backward, tilted his head away from the blade.

    “You will answer my questions.”

    A whimper escaped Logan’s lips, but he forced a small nod, hardly daring to move under the delicate pressure of the sharp blade.

    “Why's Picani interested in you?”

    “I don't kn—”

    “Find a better answer.” The man's hiss sent chills down his spine as the knife moved up Logan’s neck. “The other night, you blew me back into the wall like a goddamn ragdoll. What’s was that?”

    Logan sucked in a shallow breath as he struggled to keep his weak body breathing. “Tele—telekinesis.”

    “Do not fuck with me right n—”

    “I’m not—” Logan breathed, closing his eyes. “I can move things with my mind—”

    The blade pressed against his throat with a preciseness just short of drawing blood. “If that were true, why haven’t you blasted me again?”

    “I—I don't control it. I never learned how.” Logan blinked, surprised as the blade released a touch of pressure. He blinked, staring up at blank expression on the man's face as he continued.

    “Picani’s guard said you'd feed on me.” The man growled his disbelief as he glared down at Logan. “Explain.”

    “I don’t know what he was—"

    “Not good enough.” The man's deep voice growled above him as the blade returned to his throat. "If you don't start talking, I'll—"

    “Please—” Logan whimpered as the sharp nicked his throat and a thin line of blood dripped down his neck.  “—It's not what you think.”

    “Then explain,” The man’s eyes flashed dangerously as he continued but the pressure of the blade eased slightly. “before I start to get impatient.”

    Logan swallowed, feeling a wet streak trail down his face. “Others’ thoughts—I hear them.”

    “Are you telling me you feed on my thoughts?”  

    “No—“ Logan whispered as tears flowed freely down his face. “Please, I don’t know how it works but I can’t—It doesn’t hurt anyone. I wouldn't hurt anyone. Please—”

    Logan clenched his eyes shut, stifling a terrified whimper as the blade moved up his neck. His heart pounded in his chest until the blade lifted slightly from his throat and a wet sob escaped his throat. He sucked in a breath as the man leaned back, knife still pointed in Logan's direction as he continued in a hushed tone.

    “Are you listening to my thoughts right now?”

    “N—no,” Logan breathed, avoiding the man's eyes. “I'm too weak. I can’t—I can’t do anything.”

    The man was quiet for a long moment, eyes glinting in the red light as he stared at Logan. “What'd he do to you?”

    “Who?”

    “Picani,” The man's voice softened slightly. “The doctor, I mean. What's he done to you?”

    “I—I’ve been kept alone and—” Logan bit his lip, uncertain about sharing the true depths of his weakness. “—and I haven’t eaten. Anything that fuels my power, he's taken it from me. I can't—I can't hurt you."

    The silence hung in the air for a long, tense moment before the man spoke again, knife still inches from Logan's throat.

    “Close your eyes.”

    A chill crept up Logan’s spine at the seriousness in the man's voice. “Please, don't—”

    “Don’t argue.”

    Logan swallowed the lump in his throat as the glisten of the blade pointed at him inches from his face. Stilled trembling and tense, he let his eyes flutter closed.

    “Move your hands where I can see them.”

    “I'm already blind—”

    “I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

    “Fine.” Logan muttered as he rested his head back on the pillow, lifting his hands in apparent surrender. After a moment, he could feel the bed shift as the man climbed off the bed in absolute silence. Logan strained his ears, but he was unable to trace the man’s careful movements after he stepped onto the flow. He slowed his breathing and forced himself to remain still, unsure of how the man would react to even the smallest twitch.

    “If Picani finds out I have a knife because you rat me out, I will not hesitate to kill you with my bare hands.”

    Logan bit his lip, body shaking as he gave a stiff nod. “U-understood.”

    “Telling him won’t protect you.” The man continued gruffly. “It will only put me in danger.”

    “I won't tell him.” Logan swallowed. “You have my word.”

    “Your word doesn’t mean shit to me.”

    A bitter from twitched at the corner of Logan’s lip. “The man dropped you back in here in the middle of the night, while I was weak and defenseless, knowing full well that you'd already made one attempt on my life. I'm not so much of a fool to believe him my ally.”

    “Picani was hedging his bets that you'd appeal to my good will.”

    Logan let out a huff, dropping his head to his chest. “Well, it appears he made a miscalculation.”

    “Perhaps.” Virgil sighed quietly after a moment. “Or perhaps not. You can have this, but I want you to give me back the wrapper, so I can hide it later.”

    A small object struck Logan’s chest, causing him to flinch back with a sharp breath. His muscles tensed as his eyes cautiously fluttered open to reveal the ominous sight of the stranger’s eyes glinting at him through the darkness. Slowly, he sat upright, maintaining eye contact as he turned his head down to stare at the protein bar in his lap.

   “Don't make a mess.”

   Glancing cautiously up at the other man’s stiff form, Logan leaned forward to tear at the wrapper. He wasn’t sure what had brought about the sudden change of heart, but he wasn’t about to waste his first chance for food in three days. His hands shook as he attempted to tear into the difficult piece of plastic, growing  desperate as the man above him tensed.

   “Hey, be careful!” The man held up a hand, stopping as Logan flinched at his volume.  He paused, giving Logan a quick sympathetic look before edging closer. “Listen, hand it over for a second.”

   Logan hesitated, gripping the bar tightly as if his life depended on it.

   “Listen, dude. It's all yours, I swear.” The man whispered with a wary smile, holding up his friends as he dropped down on the side of the bed. His movements were slow, as if he was suddenly deliberately making an attempt to be non-threatening. “Just let me open it for you so you don’t make a mess. I don’t want to get backlash for helping you out. Okay?”

   “Okay.” Logan whispered after a moment of tense silence, keeping his head bowed from the man's gaze as the man took the bar from his hands. “Thank y—”

   “Don't thank me.” The man cut him off sternly. He made quick work of tearing the wrapper open before offering it back to Logan. “What's your name?”

   “Logan.”

   “Okay, Logan. Mine's Virgil.”

   The man whisper filled the air as he waited patiently for Logan to take the bar from the wrapper. Logan took a quick bite, watching the man in his periphery as he chewed the small offering of food slowly. His body ached for him to finish faster, but he didn't want to be caught off guard if the man suddenly changed his mind.

   “Listen, I'm sorry.” Virgil muttered as Logan took another bite. “I know I must have scared the shit out of you just now.”

   Logan blinked up in mild surprise at the man's change in tone, still wary of the man's anger as he swallowed his first bite.

   “You were being cautious.”

   “That doesn’t suddenly make any of this shit okay,” Virgil muttered as he crumpled the wrapper into his pocket and stared at his lap. “The way I reacted is straight fucked, but you got to know that Picani only keep his most dangerous subjects this deep into the labs. You're not the first piece of fresh meat Picani’s dropped in my bunk—And when I heard the guards talking about you feeding on me, I panicked.”

   “I assume the doctor has given you plenty of reason to be wary of newcomers.” Logan whispered, still slightly unnerved by the man's choice of words. “H-how long have you been here?”

   ��Long enough that I stopped counting the days.”

   Virgil absently ran his fingers through his hair as Logan took in the sight of the man for the first time. His white attire seemed dirtier than before, especially next to the stark white color of Logan’s matching attire. Logan’s eyes tipped up to the man's face. Fresh bruises covered his face and arms and large pieces of gauze appeared to have been haphazardly applied to his head and around his elbows in a poor attempt at first aid for whatever injuries he sustained over the last few days.

   "W-where did they take y—”

   “Don’t ask.” Virgil interrupted abruptly, glancing at the fearful look in Logan’s eyes as he cut him off. He paused, briefly considering the harshness his words before looking up at Logan. “You'll find out soon enough and trust me, you'll wish you never found out.”

   “The doctor—He hurts you because of your powers.” Logan observed, curling his knees to his chest as Virgil’s dark gaze turned back to him. “Doesn't he?”

   Virgil blinked up at him. "How did you—"

   "I saw you starting to turn invisible before the doctor walked in on us." Logan bit his lip, looking shyly at his lap. "Just after I blew you back into the wall."

   "Huh, well, its not invisibility." Virgil huffed, dropping his shoulders as he pointed up at the red lights. "I can manipulate light. It's the reason for all of those."

   "What?" Logan furrowed his brow, glancing at the strange lights.

   "I can't shift red light as easily as the rest of the spectrum." Virgil muttered bitterly. "They put these in here to make sure that Picani always knows where I'm at."

   "And he hurts you because of these abilities?"

   "He runs tests." Virgil blinked, looking up a the fear Logan was barely concealing behind his eyes. “Picani’s a bastard and this—” Virgil muttered, looking disgusted as he stared at his bandages before glancing over at Logan. “—is nothing. He's done much worse to me when he gets worked up. He says its about figuring out how I do it, but if you ask me, he just gets off on hearing me scream.”

   Logan's skin tingled with fear and he could feel tears growing in his eyes as he swallowed past the lump in his throat and nodded. “I felt like that might be the case.”

   “He owns us. We’re not even people to him.” Virgil’s words fel from his lips absently as he rambled. “And when Picani gets a new subject, he's miserable. He a whole new level of sadism and miser—Shit.”

   Virgil paused as Logan sucked in a sharp breath, shaking from the overwhelming series of events from the last few nights.

   “Hey, don't panic.” Virgil jolted upright, turning to rest his hands on Logan’s shoulders. “Wait—No, no, just breathe with me. Don't panic.”

   Logan sucked in a ragged breath as Virgil rested a hand on his chest, applying a gentle pressure to help ground him. His throat ached as he tried to suppress another sob and Virgil curled an arm around his shoulder.

   “You are going to get through this, Logan.” Virgil hushed him urgently. “God. I'll help you but you need to stop. You can't lose it now.”

   “I—I’m sorry.” Logan felt himself tugging on his hair as he whispered between ragged breaths. " I'm s-s-sorr—"

   “It's okay.” Virgil whispered insistently, tightening his grip on Logan’s shoulders. “You're going to be okay. Just get your breathing under control.”

   Logan nodded, body aching as he suppressed the overwhelming panic seizing his muscles. Slowly, through Virgil’s gentle touches and kind words his breathing returned to normal and his muscles started to relax.

   “There you go.” Virgil let out a sigh, leaning back. "You did okay."

   “I'm sorry.” Logan whispered between pained breaths. “I'm being irrational—”

   “Don’t do that to yourself. Your reaction is the only thing that makes sense in this godforsaken place,” Virgil’s eyes tipped sympathetically towards Logan in the dark, flashing with the knowledge of their grim reality. “but you can’t afford to be emotional here. You'll get hurt if you do this around the wrong people.”

   Logan paused, feeling his breathing slow a bit at the kind look in Virgil’s glowing purple eyes. “Thank you for your help.”

   “I mean it. You can't react like that with the doctor.” Virgil whispered, roughly wiping away the streaks of tears off his cheeks. “The doctor will exploit every fear you show him. You have to be stronger than him.”

   “O-okay.” Logan whispered, still trembling as Virgil talked him through his panic.

   “Find a place in your head that you can disappear to when you’re in his hands.” Virgil stated with a pitiful smile as he stared at Logan’s distant stare. “Whatever you do, don’t show him what you’re feeling.”

   “I will—um, thank you for the advice.”

   “It's nothing.” Virgil muttered quietly. “Consider it an apology for waking you up with a shiv to you throat. Alright?”

   Logan sucked on his lip, curling his knees to his chest. “It's fine. I realize now why you acted in such a manner.”

   "It's not fine, but whatever." Virgil shrugged as his lip twitched with guilt. “but either way, you look like shit and I think you should get some rest.”

   “I'm not sure if I’ll be able to sleep at this point.”

   “You need to try. You need whatever energy you can get to get through tomorrow.”

   Logan blinked up at the serious tone in Virgil’s voice as he slid up on the bed and faced the door.

   “I'll keep an eye out and wake you before Picani and his goons show up. Okay?”

   “S-sure.” Logan whispered, chilled by the seriousness in Virgil’s voice.

   “You can trust me on this, Logan.” Virgil paused raising an eyebrow at Logan. “There’s not much I can do to protect you, but at the very least, I won’t let Picani catch you by surprise.”

   Logan let out a breath as Virgil patted the bed next to him. Stiffly, Logan slid over to him and slipped underneath the thin blanket. Uneasily, he rested down on the pillow next to where the Virgil perched, staring at the door. “Thank you, Virgl. I—I know you don't have to help me.”

   “I want to.” Virgil muttered under his breath almost to himself. His voice was so quiet Logan nearly didn’t catch the end of his statement. “I never meant for anybody to get hurt.”

   Logan blinked, considering Virgil’s words as a deep exhaustion crept over him. He leaned his head back on the pillow, staring up at the distant look in Virgil’s eyes as he stared at the closed door of their cell. He sighed. Falling asleep next to the stranger who'd had a knife to his throat only minutes seemed like an impossible feat but only a few short minutes had passed before the exhaustion began to outweigh his anxiety. He could feel his eyelids dropping even as his heart fluttered with fear of the man next to him. This had to be a mistake and Logan was well aware of that fact. Yet, as his mind drifted off to sleep, he found himself easing to sleep with the madman with the knife next to him anyway.

---

Author’s Note: That’s it for now, but hopefully it won’t be too much longer before we get to here more about these poor boys. Thanks for reading, and again, if you want to be on the taglist, all you have to do is let me know!

General Taglist:

@justanotherhumanstuff @im-an-anxious-wreck @shadowyplaidpurseegg

[yellowocaballero]

Your reverse robin au is such an odd take on Tim? I don't hate it though? I am... confused

YES I GET TO TALK ABOUT TIM. Warning that this is probably going to be long, because Reverse Robin!Tim is probably one of the most complicated characters I've ever written, psychologically. Because Tim is my favorite character in comics, just behind Bart Allen, and I've been in love with him since I was 9. Also I'm going to talk about how we write comic book fanfic I am SO sorry you've unleashed a kraken. I'll put a cut later because Tumblr's bugging and not letting me. Content warning for discussions of suicide, self-harm, PTSD, drug and alcohol mentions, addiction, and homicidal urges.

 How do we write comic book fanfic? It's tremendously difficult. Especially for the Batfam: it's such a soap opera, if you take every single little thing as canon everybody ends up a sociopath. In comics, Bruce has PUNCHED Dick in canon. So we make up our fanon. But if we keep too closely to fanon, then you end up with fairly unrecognizable characters, which is no fun to read. And...a lot of Batfamily fanfic is just Bruce as a great dad with a hoard of adorable children. It's boring to me.  So what do we do? Well, I like to keep a character recognizable while still kind of doing what I want and what I find most nuanced and realistic. You can't completely divorce from canon, but you really should just keep to the essentials of the character. This is subjective - I find it essential to Bruce that he's not really a great parent, but he's constantly trying and working on it. Not everyone feels that way - valid. 

 So what I consider essential to Tim is this: he's a socially awkward nerd. He always feels extraneous and neglected, because he's insecure, because he was a victim of childhood neglect. For most of his life, he really doesn't consider himself Bruce's kid. He's crazy intelligent and good with computers. He's a better detective than Bruce. He has a ton of friends who love him very much, but he shows a different face to them than to his family. He has lost basically everybody he has ever cared about at one point or another and just kinda gotten on with his life, which if you want to be realistic about it was probably hugely traumatizing and a huge sign that Tim kind of boxes himself away. That's Tim to me. Everything else is flexible. And although Tim in the Reverse Robin AU is a COMPLETE FUCKING MANIAC, he is still all of those things.

 I've done it differently in other roleswap aus, but the idea behind the Reverse Robin is that everybody is half themselves, half who they were switched with. Damian is reserved and cold, but he is just as much 'oldest daughter syndrome' as Dick. Jason is intellectual and rough (which is canon!), but he is just as much of a mediator who feels like he has to single-handedly keep the family together as Tim (which is canon especially in very early Tim - check Knightfall, the stupid Gotham Earthquake thing, and his introduction). Dick is loving and hyper, but he's just as reserved and resentful and alien to America as Damian. So, Tim is all of the things I listed, so I can establish that he's basically Tim. But he is as batshit crazy as Red Hood!Jason. He's just as cruel, resentful, self-harming, desperate, alienated, attention-seeking, groomed by Talia and Ra's, and just bugfuck insane because of the Pit. He's also been low-key mentally ill his entire life due to his complete and total isolation and childhood neglect. His life ended through torture and suicide. In 'the prophetic spring', he is at Jason's lowest point in his life - and his own.

 But, and this is important, Tim as Red Hood does not work. Jason became a drug lord because he came from that background. Tim's spoiled and rich. Jason had a motivation, a reason to live, a Bruce to hate and a Dick that always reached out. Tim doesn't have this. Tim is listless and purposeless - and I say several times that Tim is cosplaying this life. He's cosplaying wanting to kill his friends, being an addict, being a supervillain. Without Bruce, without that target of hate, Tim is lost. Without his dad, who loved him, Tim is lost.

 It's important to understand that everything he does in 'the prophetic spring' in self-harm. He thinks of himself as a monster (because Tim was raised by Bruce and he's extremely rigidly moral, and he can't reconcile his morality with what he did while he was pit-mad), and as a result he wants everybody else in his life to think of himself as a monster. He wants to be hated as much as he hates himself, because at least that's real and validates his feelings. He thinks of himself as the lowest of the low, so he performs his image of a spoiled party boy - the kind of person he's never been, and who he always hated, because he thinks of himself as the person who ruined Tim Drake, not Tim Drake. The drugs and alcohol are self harm (and I'd say, in my essential interp, that Tim has an addictive personality). Having sex is self-harm for him specifically because he's sex-averse. Alienating everybody who ever loved him is self-harm. Practically begging Damian to put him in Arkham is self-harm. This is a 20 year old unstable kid who wants to self-harm until he dies or his family kills him, because he is suicidal. He's still clinging on because he doesn't want to do it himself, but if someone kills him no big deal, and if he overdoses he probably deserved it.

 It IS confusing! As readers we are used to traumatized characters who seek catharsis, affection, and safety. We want the hurt and the comfort. But I really wanted to highlight how fucking ugly PTSD is. It can genuinely make you into a cruel and hurtful person. Tim is suicidal and he responds by becoming an addict, rejecting his family and friends so nobody can try to help him, and lashing out nonstop because he wants to punish the people who love him for loving a monster. And because he wants to punish the people he blames for his death - Bruce and Damian. The Joker. But Bruce is dead and the Joker’s dead Damian isn't giving him the attention he wants...so what does he do? He's lost. And so 'the prophetic spring' is the story of someone who is so fucking lost that he tries to destroy his own life because he can't bring himself to end it again. 

 Hope that cleared stuff up. I really love Tim. You probably didn't need that amount of detail but I am psychically compelled to share these things...partly because most people take Tim's incredible trauma and just make him a cute woobie..no guys make him mean. People are mean sometimes. Fiction exaggerates and magnifies - so many hurt people WANT to do the stuff Tim does, but their lives aren't a comic book soap opera so they don't. I wanted to highlight that real pain. Thanks for asking!!!

[fairycosmos]

when you say you'll miss therapy you mean it was helping you? i feel like a failure because i also tried it it months ago and it was a waste of time and money and energy. i also lost my sister 9 months ago. i have tried and nothing has helped. it stands to reason i have to die. and i want to die. i don't want help. i truly don't. i just want to die. right now. it's awful how these are just words but i am writing them while i am crying trying to come down from a panic attack and they seem so calm. i just want to go lie down with my sister and stay down there forever and sleep forever with her. nothing can help. i truly know this in my flesh. there is no help. i knew it before and i know it even more now. i want to die & nobody can understand.

hey. to be honest, while the therapist knew about my sister, i told her i wasn't ready to talk about the actual death and the trauma of it in detail. i only had 3 sessions with her overall and we started from my childhood. so when i said it helped i guess i just meant that finally acknowleding things from back then and conceptualizing them in actual reality and not just in my head, felt nice. i'm really really sorry about your sister. i say this a lot but there really isn't any words for it, and there really is no comfort either. i'm just so sorry. it is unbearable, i can't pretend otherwise. but you are definitely not a failure. finding the right therapist and the right timing for going to therapy is basically half the battle, it is so so important. it can take forever and it has nothing to do with personal fault. right now you don't want help, you said it yourself. and i'm not saying that in a blame-y way by the way, it is completely understandable. like, majorly. you have lost perhaps the most important thing in the world to you and nothing will ever be the same again. nobody gets it because all grief is unique, because all relationships are unique. it is literally a special kind of hell, and i'm right there with you. the words minimize the experience so much. this is the most unintangible chaos, unsayable heaviness and hurt. the fact is it can't be translated into an explanation, and that makes it all the more isolating. i don't blame you for wanting to give up because the suffering is so strong and relentless, though at the same time it's obvious to me that you deserve so much more than that. and again, you're not a failure. i hope you can practice letting go of that notion sometime, even if it feels like a lie. honestly, reaching out for help and talking to professionals might be something you do for the entirety of your adulthood. trying to find some resolution or modicum of acceptance may be a lifelong thing. and that is honestly ok, even if it is exhausting, even if it doesn't feel worth sticking around for at the moment. this is not a linear process. the only thing you have to focus on is getting through right now. that's how i do it, anyway. i pretend the future and the past don't exist sometimes, and i just try to survive the moment. not trying to be melodramatic but it feels a bit like burning alive or freezing to death, and counting down the seconds until the pain eases just a little. sometimes it seems like it never does, sometimes there are moments its broken by superficial distractions. to be frank, i keep thinking i'll find the perfect mantra to tell myself, and to tell other people like you, that will get us through this, but there just isn't one. sometimes it's all just incomprehensibly hard, and it can't be saved or made better. but i do understand, at least to an extent. and a lot of people do, it shocks me all the time how many of us are carrying it with us. like you i don't think there's anything that truly helps grief, not even time really, but there are things that briefly alleviate the bones of it. the talking, crying, honouring, like i said the distracting, even. and it's not enough at all, it never ever will be, it is still unfathomable pain on top of unfathomable pain. i'm just trying to show you that's not all there is, or all there's going to be. it's alright if you're not ready to get proper help yet or if you don't know what to do next, you don't have to know. just focus on making it through the next hour. try to treat yourself like you would a young child or a close friend, even when you want to self destruct. try as many times as you need to for it to work. it's fucking awful and i don't want to live without my sister either, if i thought about getting older without her for more than two minutes i don't know what i'd do. but unfortunately we are still alive and we do have to work with that. and sometimes working with it literally means crying for days on end in bed. the point is you're here, and i hope you can talk to someone with time, but regardless i am so sorry and so proud of you. the grief is constant, but the intensity of each breakdown is not built to last no matter how permanent it feels in the moment. my inbox is always open if you need someone. please contact a friend/family member/emergency services if you feel like ur a threat to your own life rn. please try not to listen to ur brain, whatever suicidal shit it's spewing, and get someone to be with you if you need it. i am so sorry. i'll keep you and your sister in my heart too. so much of her is you, she helped shape this whole world, and the wonderful person you are. that is never going to change. sending so much love x

https://www.opencounseling.com/suicide-hotlines

[a-woman-apart]

Watch "I'M BACK! WHY I LEFT YOUTUBE FOR TWO YEARS!" on YouTube

This scared me so badly, because this is EXACTLY what happened in my life, except it was all in The Reverse.

I graduated with an Associate Degree in Music Performance in 2018, but instead of running TOWARDS my dream/calling I ran hardcore AWAY from it. My pride in graduating only lasted a month before I declared myself Utterly Unmarketable and sought to go after a "real degree" and get a Big Girl career.

Between 2018 and 2020 I had major life changes.

My dad died of stomach cancer

I broke up with my neglectful boyfriend

I turned down a Full Ride to a major college

I hospitalized myself for Suicidal Ideation (Sept 2019)

I quit my job of 5 years

I started working for my best friend and became her Office Manager

I started dating the Love of my Life

I lost my friend group and peer support

I lost my mind and left college due to COVID-19 (but not before making one of my best decisions in taking a Screenwriting class because I WANTED not NEEDED it)

Started distancing myself from the toxic women in my life and definining Womanhood/Adulthood for myself

Visited my brother's grave after over a decade of waiting and got closure

Fully acknowledged my childhood trauma/abuse

Rediscovered my sexuality

Was disowned by who I erroneously thought was a close friend of 17 years over my political views

Joined and exited Unity2020

Turned in my car for repossession

Spent a week in the hospital after having a severe, paranoid psychotic break, but came out completely free of the vice of self-consciousness I was living under

You know what is nuts? I feel in many ways, I have completely reverted to who I was in the summer of 2011. I was off my meds, and it WAS mania, but personality-wise, the tempestuous, gum-chewing, cigarette-puffing, flirtatious, humorous, free-spirited ball of fire that drove all the way to Colorado on a whim wasn't rebellious, SHE WAS ME.

I just wasn't Me around the right people, and it wasn't the Right Time.

My inner Sagittarius moon would remain in a dormant state for almost a full decade. I would spend the next 9 years heavily sedated, sleepwalking through life, only alive at The Sound of Music.

It was Torture to feel so much but be afraid to express myself. I had to Hide while doing a major that demanded that I Command Attention. I am by nature "dramatic", "theatrical", "emotional", "expressive" but that part of me was so suppresed that I was frequently told I sang with excellence but without emotion.

Aside: During my 2011 manic episode, I spoke a lot about Doppelgangers. Without going into excessive detail, this is a German word that means "Double" and it is considered bad luck to encounter yours.

In the past 2 weeks, I have encountered people that look/sound like me (Josephine is Nigerian-Canadian and I am Nigerian-American and I kept thinking about her work even though I initially disagreed with her lot) and a woman with my name (different spelling) who was NOTHING like me and I also think might've had malice in mind for me.

I was DEFINITELY an agnostic atheist when I started this year, but as a result of undergoing so much weird shit I almost certainly believe in God, and yes, "God is a Woman." (More on that later)

Also, I realized that I really DID, as many teenage girls, "lose interest in math and science" but that was because of the terrible, unfactual way it was presented in my homeschool curriculum and by my mom, who was a Math major but whose disinterested detachment made every algebra lesson an excercise in torture.

I have always loved biolology and anatomy and I remember so much more chemistry than I thought. Geology class in community college was amazing and also helped me understand-- even more than the Theory of Evolution-- why young earth creationism was completely impossible.

As for math, I spent 15 years thinking it was my greatest weakness when I have had to use arithmetic in cashiering, my managerial work, and my monthly budget for the last 7 years. Also, as annoying as it was to hear constantly, my mom parroting "What you have to do to one side, you have to do to the other" (but in reverse) gave me the ability to do Algebra quickly and (mostly) effortlessly. I could never get A's, but I got a B in Quantitative Mathematics with no real help aside from occasional teacher input and the "Help me solve this" function of MyMathLab.

Here is where it Gets Weird. I am a Creative. I have been writing stories since I was 6 years old. I have loved Story all my life. My parents were in math and science fields and they completely lacked any creativity. COMPLETELY. It was part of why they were so religiously rigid, authoritarian, and draconian. There was no room for spontaneity or childish imaginativeness.

Looking back, I had major sensory and processing issues. I was likely speech delayed, I learned to read late, and I recently confirmed that when I am stressed my dyscalculia kicks in bad (it IS real). Numbers and symbols get really interchangeable (like an 8 and infinity symbol become kinda the same) which is why I had to recite phone numbers out loud to remember them or write them on colorful backgrounds so I can see them in my head as an image. Also explains my aversion to math but my ease with fractions (1/2 is half a sandwich, etc).

My spatial awareness is also shit when stressed. Before I turned in our car, I had earned the nickname "U-turn" from my boyfriend because on that Floating Death Machine left and right got completely crossed, frequently.

By the way, I struggled with right and left until I WAS EIGHT YEARS OLD. I literally didn't understand the concept of a mirror and 3D space, meaning that the basic understanding that my right is someone else's left didn't come into play until I had an argument with my [now-deceased] brother about it.

What is so weird, is that because of years of correcting for these issues, my sense of direction, ON FOOT is good, if not better than most people. Also, once I realized that, given the opportunity, I very much do whatever I can with my left-hand, and that my hearing is MUCH better than I even thought, I am far less clumsy. Depth perception is still crap, but that is probably also because I was forced to spend years without the glasses I needed (and got earlier this year after living with chronic eye strain)

When I talk about these "issues" it is in line with female autism, but you know what? If really do have adult autism, then I am a Complete Boss because I have pwned that ho.

After being rehospitalized, a kind nurse suggested I may have PTSD and suggested medicine for insomnia and nightmares. It was extremely helpful. I had been looking into C-PTSD for a while, because I didn't think I had "suffered enough" to have "real" PTSD. But that isn't how diagnoses work.

Btw, I still have Bipolar I, Psychotic Features. Another kind nurse told me I don't need anti-psychotics, and no, I don't. I was given Zyprexa by a bitch nurse and it was like getting drunk. I stumbled the halls, almost fell over (possibly did) and woke up with a neon "Fall Risk" bracelet. Anti-psychotics also fucked up my menstrual cycle for years and I have had lingering hormonal isssues. Haha no thanks.

Anyway, I digress. Of course I am fucked up. I lived under family members who questioned my reality, attempted to crush my dreams, threatened me with physical punishment any time I behaved in non-neurotypical ways, violated my rights and interfered with my treatment even though I was a full legal adult, undermined my relationships, tortured and socially isolated me, etc., all under the guise "of knowing best."

In minority cultures, our darkness hides in plain sight, and ESPECIALLY in the Bible Belt, with its supeestition and idolization of familial hierarchy/patriarchy, victims of financial, spiritual, emotional, and physical abuse have no where safe to turn. The Long Arm of the Law is often Short when it comes to "breaking up the family", and women and children are victimized openly with little to no intervention.

On top of doing my Creative Work, I plan to create legislation to make sure that what happened to me and my siblings isn't allowed to go unpunished. We lost my older brother, and I almost died, too, but Enough is Enough.

The Time is Now.

P.S. If Josephine is an Air Nomad I identify as a Water Bender. I basically have no water in my astrological chart, but water signs bring me great comfort in times of need (and make bad romantic partners for me obviously)

Also, this is one Bad Biyatch.

I also found out I am an ISFJ, not INFJ. Yep. Gonna be a Playwright and Director. I want to be a part of the action, not just writing about it.