#possibly triggering

[msbunnat]

⚠️SA (Sexual Assault)

~ As soon as possible, Zeus rushes Ganimedes to become immortal by giving his own essence ⚡

[ssturniolo]

Lights out (Pt.1)

⚠️please do NOT read this if any of the warning below make you uncomfortable⚠️

Warnings - gore, crying, death, hanging, stab wounds, loss of friend, some cursing, I believe that’s it.

Y/n’s POV:

“Are you sure you don’t wanna go?” I say, practically begging Madi to come to the Halloween party with me.

“I’m just going to stay here with my mom and watch movies” she responds, rolling her eyes at my tone of voice.

“I can’t believe your just gonna leave me with the boys” I groan, dramatically flopping down on the guest bed.

The triplets came back to Boston for Halloween, and decided to bring Madi and Laura with. They were currently staying at Nate’s house, since he had a guest bedroom they could share.

“Sorry girl, you’ll have fun and you can tell me all about it when you get home.”

“Ok I will, I promise” I say, standing up from the bed to link my pinky with hers.

“Y/n we’re leaving” Matt calls, jingling his keys by the front door.

“Ugh bye Mads, love you” I say, giving her a quick side hug before walking out to the car.

Madi’s POV:

Watching y/n leave, I sigh, raking a hand through my hair. Although being very thankful that Nate’s parents let us stay here while they’re out of town, all of this traveling is exhausting, and all I want to do is curl up and watch movies with my mom.

Sitting next to mom on the couch, I pick up the remote. Scrolling through movies for awhile, we decide on ‘corpse bride’ as its one of my favorite movies. About half an hour in, mom stands up, making her way to the kitchen.

“Im making popcorn”

“Ok thank you”

I turn the volume up, relaxing back against the couch. One minute goes by, then two… then five… then ten, and mom still hasn’t come back in.

I walk into the kitchen, only to find the sliding glass door open, but no signs of mom.

“Mom?” I call out into the darkness, a feeling of unease spreading through my body.

No. Nothings wrong, I’m just freaking myself out.

Taking a deep breath, I step out into the darkness, calling once more.

“Mom?”

Hearing shuffling to my right I turn, met with a sharp pain directly in my stomach. Slowly looking down I rest my shaking hands on an object now jabbed inside of me. A knife.

Dropping to my knees, I gasp for air, a scream unable to leave my mouth. Thick hot blood drips from my wound as I feel the knife being ripped from my body.

Fat tears roll down my cheeks as I attempt to crawl away, only to be kicked to the ground. Applying pressure to my throbbing wound, I looking up to see a masked figure.

“P-please… no” I stutter almost incoherently through my sobs, slowly inching away. Not responding, the figure grabs me by the hands, dragging me across the cold scratchy grass. To where? I have no idea.

My whole body shakes with sobs as the pain becomes unbearable. I’m not gonna make it.

I can’t believe I’m about to die and I can’t even say goodbye. I’ll never get to hear about y/n’s night, and I’ll never know what happened to my mom. Is she alright? Is she already dead?

I feel so weak, so powerless that I just stop. I stop struggling, I stop holding my wound, I just stop trying. Now, resting my bloody hand on my heart I stop breathing.

That’s it,

Nothing,

Blackness,

Lights out.

Y/n’s POV:

Police cars, sirens.

Returning to Nate’s house after the party is something I will regret every day.

Finding Madison and Laura Filipowicz hanging from the tree, matching wounds, with the words “dumb bitch” carved into their foreheads, was not what I had expected when going to close the back door.

The blood dripping down their purpled faces, their limp bodies hanging, the streaks of blood across the grass. These things will be etched into my mind forever. There’s no going back.

My best friend, my ride or die, dead. Gone.

And I never got to tell her about the party, I had promised. I never even got to say goodbye.

To be continued…

[toriafiction]

Flowers For My Love

One of my Dick /Jason wips. This one just won't get out of my head recently.

It's a soulmate hanahaki fic. 🌸

Check tags for possible tw / cw

Dick has known since Jason was Robin that they are soulmates. Jason didn't know because, at that time, he was too young for the bond to wake on his end, and Dick didn't tell anyone because he didn't want anyone or anything to influence Jason.

He's still a kid and he deserves to explore who he is and what he likes and have his own experiences like Dick did. He should make friends and date whoever he wants and not feel guilty for it. He refuses to take that from him.

So Dick balances his time with Jason very carefully. He makes sure that he isn't around too much. He's absent more than present but when he is around he makes sure that they spend some quality time together and have fun.

It doesn't matter if that's just sitting in the library talking about what book Jason is reading, playing a game or watching a movie together, going out, or even patrolling together. Sometimes Jason comes and stays with him at Bludhaven. Dick shows him his city and takes him train surfing.

It really is a balancing act for Dick. He doesn't want to woo Jason and doesn't want Jason to slot him into the brother role either. His plan is to be a fond yet distant presence in Jason's life until he is old enough to decide what he wants Dick as without Dick having influenced his decision. It's the only thing that seems right at this point.

He wants Jason to grow up with the same freedom he had and to decide what he wants them to be when he is old enough.

Then Jason dies and all Dick can do for years is mourn all the lost time and the future they didn't get to have together.

After Jason comes back and has really started to settle from the pit madness, Dick tries to tell Jason that they are soulmates. He had tried waiting for the "perfect time" to tell him before, and Jason had died. Dick isn't going to make that mistake again.

This time he has rushed it too much.

The remaining effects/magic from the Lazarus pit are still blocking Jason's side of the bond from waking, and without that connection Jason doesn't believe him. The pit rage surges with a fury. Jason thinks Dick is lying to him, trying to manipulate him and Jason is deeply hurt and feels so betrayed. Dick knows how much having a soulmate means to him, and the belief that Dick would use that is crushing.

Dick coughs up his first petals that night.

He doesn't have hanahaki yet. This is a precursor, a warning. There are no ill effects, just the occasional petals. Jason didn't reject him. He just didn't believe Dick.

But things get worse.

Jason is furious. He avoids Dick and, by extension, the rest of the Bats. Everyone is confused by this sudden change. and not so secretly blaming Bruce. Dick is desperate and scared. He just wants to talk with Jason. When he does, it turns into a huge blow-up that becomes incredibly vicious and cruel. In the end, Jason leaves Gotham. Dick leaves the fight heartbroken and not only with hanahaki but the aggressive variant that can kill in a few short months.

Bruce finds out about the hanahaki first, but even he doesn't figure it out until it has already reached the point that it's dangerously critical. He has to hospitalize Dick in the cave and within just a few days Dick requires extensive medical assistance to survive.

Bruce has had the surgery for hanahaki and they have a conversation that turns into a fight. Bruce is demanding that Dick get the surgery and Dick adamantly refuses.

Bruce has the same problem that everyone who has the surgery has. He can't feel love or any of the connected emotions such as compassion, affection, fondness, or tenderness. He can, however, still feel off shades of happiness or pride, a detached sense of pleased, satisfaction, or contentment. He can feel frightened, angry, and responsible.

He can feel deeply possessive.

Bruce can feel all of his negative emotions just fine but the good ones are so much harder to get to now and they aren't as full and complete. But those few bright and beautiful moments in his life are all connected to his family and he can still vaguely remember what it felt like to love his son.

So, he logics it all out in his head that Dick is emotionally compromised and can't be trusted to make this decision. That he knows better than anyone that after the surgery, Dick will be okay and even thank him for this. Dick doesn't need love like he believes. He can use logic and the code to navigate life like he does.

Bruce sets up the surgery for Dick.

He uses Dick's trust in him to drug him and take him in for it.

The hospital staff doesn't account for a Bat's tolerance, and Dick wakes up while they are still preparing him. Dick absolutely freaks out. He tells them he hasn't consented to the surgery. That he doesn’t want it. The staff already knows. Bruce has already taken care of that. Dick tries begging. He's crying and pleading with them.

"Please, don't do this to me." They just put him under. "You'll destroy me."

Dick goes under but never really comes back up.

He is not okay. Bruce thought Dick could live on cold logic and reason. He thought that Dick followed his code because he believed in it. Bruce believed that he was doing what was best for Dick and that when Dick woke up, he would see that.

Bruce was wrong.

There are a few reasons it is so extremely illegal to force someone into this surgery. One of those reasons is because the state of mind they are in has an enormous impact on how they come out of the surgery. Things like depression, suicide rate, or probability to turn violent are deeply affected by there mental state before their surgery. Patients are supposed to have as much therapy as they can manage beforehand. Then afterwards they need a strong and dedicated support team for the rest of their lives.

Another reason is that because without love or compassion it's nearly impossible to forgive.

Dick wakes up with a screaming void ripped into him. It radiates a cold so severe it burns his soul. Dick is furious. Bruce has betrayed him. Bruce has ruined him. He has literally torn apart his soul and stolen all of Dick's love, extinguishing any hope he had left with it.

Now there isn't anything to stop Dick from pouring his fury and pain out onto Bruce and all of Gotham. If Gotham thought it had seen the worst a Bat could do under the Red Hood's fury. Then it hasn't seen anything yet.

Because Nightwing no longer has any mercy left to give.

The streets of Gotham will run red with his wrath and pain.

Meanwhile, space and time to think is exactly what Jason needed to get his head on straight again. He is doing much better when word of Dicks condition reaches him. When Jason hears that Dick has hanahaki, he rushes home to find Dick.

He's two days too late.

If Bruce would have waited just two more days.

When Jason does find him, Dick is standing in the middle of a warehouse turned bloodbath. They talk, and Dick tells him precisely what happened and about just how broken he feels now. He spares no detail, but neither does he embellish anything.

Jason clutches Dick as tight against himself as he can. Like, if he holds Dick close enough, he can merge his heart with Dick's. As if their broken pieces can heal together and make something whole and new.

"I love you, I have always loved you," Jason breathes the words against Dick's skin like an apology from deep within his soul meant to reach the same depth within Dick's.

"I loved you once," Dick murmurs back. "I meant to love you always."

Jason coughs up his first petals.

Jason's hanahaki is the excruciatingly slow variant. Dick didn't reject him, the exact opposite in fact. However, now, by no choice of his own, Dick is unable to love Jason.

Jason feels crushingly guilty for what happened to Dick. The way he sees it, if he would have just trusted Dick or at least not ran away then this would have never happened to him. It makes Jason cling to Dick all the tighter.

"I don't want to lose you again, please, will you let me stay with you." For a long moment Dick just stares at him. His expression having never been more impossible to read before.

"I don't think I want to be alone," Dick answers after a painfully long silence.

Dick is set hard core on his revenge path against Bruce and this is something that Jason understands in spades. The thing is that Dick is really unstable right now. Just like Bruce, he's unable to feel any kind of love anymore and that includes all the adjacent emotions to it as well. Dick remembers feeling the full range of emotions. He remembers fond affection, passionate love, warm compassion and just being able to care. He remembers what it felt like to love his family and remembering hurts.

So instead, he burns with his anger, betrayal, hate, and pain. It's an icy fury that can't be banked and knows no end.

He's hurting and he doesn't know how to stop anymore. Not when the anger is the only thing keeping him going.

This leaves Jason as the voice of reason and as the one who has to throw the brakes on when things start to go too far. Jason has to help Dick realize when enough is enough. Dick always listens. If Jason is saying, "This is too much," then it has to have gone too far. He doesn't question Jason. He trusts him.

Dick struggles with both raging fury and stretches of deep depression. Sometimes swinging straight from one extreme to the other. Jason tries to help Dick modulate his emotions and mental state. Their relationship is rather unhealthy. Jason clings to Dick, refusing to leave him, and Dick ends up becoming really possessive of Jason.

Jason is with Dick nearly from the very beginning of his new life, and he is his grounding point. Dick knows he's better when he is with Jason, and he feels better around him. Just because Dick can't love that doesn't mean that he can't feel any good emotions. He still feels shades of happiness or excitement. Dick can't love Jason, but that doesn't mean that he can't enjoy him. He still has physical needs, and the way he sees it since he and Jason are supposed to be soulmates, it makes sense to go to him for sex.

He means it as a kindness. He doesn't want to hurt Jason, and Dick understands that him sleeping with other people would hurt Jason. So, if Jason meets his needs and keeps him satisfied, then he will only be with Jason. Even if he sees someone else he wants, in order to keep things good between them, he'll abstain.

He basically hands Jason an ultimatum though he doesn't actually mean to.

It doesn't occur to Dick that sex with him now might be heartbreaking. That, because it will mean more to Jason than simple gratification like it is for Dick. It will be a special kind of torture.

He has no idea why Jason cries in the shower after they're done that first time. He doesn't ask though, Jason had obviously been trying to hide it and Dick isn't sure he actually wants to know.

So with Jason as both his grounding point and the source of most of his positive feelings Dick becomes highly possessive and dependent on him.

"How long are you going to stay with me," Dick asks into the dark, sad and hurt and so very scared.

"My entire life Dickie. I won't leave you until the very end," Jason promises.

They both know that end is coming too soon.

Another problem is that Dick knows he isn't really good for Jason. Even though he really does try there are still times when he is unintentionally cruel. Despite this Dick can't let Jason go.

"I'm going to keep hurting you, and sometimes I won't even care that I am." Dick is going through another bout of depression.

"I know Dickiebird, and I'll let you, I'll forgive you, and I'll stay." Jason does his best to take care of him and reassure him. To help his soulmate claw his way back out of the darkness he has fallen into.

The people of Gotham quickly take notice of Nightwing becoming a merciless killer. The few that still believe in law and justice mourn the fall of a hero. The good but down trodden of Gotham that are starving for protection, relief and change see him the same as they do Red Hood. As what Gotham really needs. As someone that will be the catalyst for a change for the better. The criminals only see death.

A lot of theories get thrown around. The most prevalent is that he just finally snapped. That someone can only face the worst of humanity every day for so long before they can't take it anymore. After all, what change do the Bats see? They just face the same goons and villains every night on repeat.

But there are a few who see and recognize the signs, and they know.

Nightwing, a beloved hero, went down and never got back up.

Jason lasts a couple of years with the slow, torturous progression of his hanahaki. If he got the surgery, he could save his life, but that isn't even a consideration. He doesn't want it, and even more than that, he could never do that to Dick.

Jason had read once that the flowers are a physical manifestation of the shattered pieces of a person's soul after being rejected by their soulmate, like petals falling off a dying flower. He had always thought that it was people romanticizing hanahaki.

He isn't so sure now.

He thinks that someone stripped Dick of all his soft and loving petals and cauterized the wound where he was bleeding out, leaving only a thorny stem that remembers and mourns when it was once a flower.

It's cruel.

But he sees how hard Dick tries. Even now, with no love left in him, Dick still tries so damn hard for the people he remembers once loving. He shows it to most by refusing to see them. By telling them over and over when they hunt him down that the Dick Grayson they knew died on that operating table. That he is just the ghoul left behind to haunt them, seeking vengeance for the sin committed against him.

God, does Jason get it. He understands exactly how Dick feels.

Dick is different with him. He clutches tight to Jason and never lets go. Not even when Dick cuts deep into Jason and leaves him emotionally bleeding. Even then, Jason is grateful. There isn't anywhere else that he wants to be than with Dick.

When Jason's condition gets to the point that he has to be hospitalized, Dick stays with him. He feels a sense of responsibility for him and is grateful to Jason for all he has done for him, and frankly, he wants every last second he has with Jason before he loses him forever. So, he stays with him through long days and sleepless nights. Even when the rest of the family comes to see Jason, Dick doesn't leave.

There isn't much the hospital can do for him. Jason is mostly there for comfort care, but he refuses most of the pain meds. They mess with his head too much and make him sleepy, and he doesn't want to waste any of the time he has with Dick. He has been living with this pain for years now. He knows how to endure it.

It's close to the end, and Jason will have to be fully intubated soon. They have put it off as long as they can. When they intubate him, he will have to go on sedatives until he passes. Dick is lying in bed with Jason cuddled close to him.

Dick sets up and leans over Jason to look him in the eyes. “Let's try again in our next life. This was all wrong, but if we hadn't had our chance stolen, we could have been beautiful together. So promise me that we will try again.”

“I promise, for all our lives, however many that may be.” It's obviously painful and a herculean task, but Jason does it even as it leaves him struggling to catch his breath.

Dick holds his gaze and dredges up every last scrap of memory he has of love. He digs up the warm soft, and tender affection and hot and deep passion. He tries to fill himself with it. He kisses Jason and tries his hardest to give everything he used to feel, all that had always belonged to Jason, back to him in that moment.

“It's okay, Little Wing, let go. I'll be right behind you.”

Jason never sees Dick slip the needle into his IV. After Dick injects the lethal amount of morphine, he simply falls asleep and never wakes.

Dick wouldn't let Jason needlessly suffer through the last few days, and he wouldn't let the hanahaki steal his life. It belonged to him.

After he is certain that Jason is gone, he slips out of the hospital. He makes a single stop by a florist to pick up an order he had placed two days earlier. It is a truly massive bouquet with what a casual observer would consider a bizarre mix of flowers. To Dick, it's perfect and terribly beautiful.

Scabious - unfortunate love

Carolina rose - love is dangerous.

cypress flower - eternal love, memories of past love, or love that's unrequited or in vain.

Orange Blossom - Innocence. Eternal love

Primrose flowers - I can’t live without you

Hyacinths - Please forgive me

Blue hydrangeas - forgiveness, rejection, and regret - gratitude, grace, and beauty.

Sweetpeas - Departure, remember me, good-bye, a tender memory, thank you for a lovely time.

wisteria - devotion that transcends death

marigold - the brevity of life, despaired love, grief, sorrow, despair, and mourning, remembering the dead, power, strength

cyclamen - a new path in life, separation, goodbye or resignation

Love-lies-bleeding - hopeless love or hopelessness

Bleeding Heart - Unconditional love, Heartbreak and sadness, unrequited love

All flowers that Jason had coughed up and choked on over the years. Flowers that Jason had grown just for him.

Flowers for his love.

Dick heads to the top of the highest building overlooking Robinson Park, the place where Haly's Circus performed. He very carefully situates his bouquet by the edge and then climbs up onto it.

“Dick, what do you want?” Bruce asks from behind him.

It might seem like an odd question, but for them, it isn't. They both know what he's doing, and Bruce knows that it's because Jason is gone. What he doesn't understand is what Dick is hoping to achieve by doing this.

Dick looks out over the park where his parents fell to their deaths. Bruce had been there that night. It seems fitting that he will watch the last Flying Grayson fall as well.

“I just want to be with him,” Dick answers without turning to face him. “We'll get it right next time.”

Dick had grown his flowers for Jason when he wasn't there to receive them, and they had been stolen away before he could make it back to Dick, but now Dick falls for Jason just like he has so many times before.

Jason is waiting for him, and they will get it right next time.

[cecilnightvalepalmer]

~Nightvale Coins~

Warning! This identity is possibly controversial or could be triggering to some viewers! Viewer discretion is advised.

TransWhiteOpressed

An identity where one wishes to be oppressed, live in a universe where they are oppressed, or have someone oppress them for being white! (Can be for other reasons than what is listed above!)

The main reason for this is fictives (like some of my own) who come from realities where white people are a minority or an oppressed group! This can also be used for kink reasons like raceplay! Or it can be used because of lingering thoughts caused by conservative propaganda that affects your identity!

(This flag is slightly similar to the Forced Human(?) flag, which I didn't realize until after the flag was made, but they are two different flags and I didn't intend to copy anyone!)

[the-hellgirl]

Yeah, maybe I'm impossible to be with

I know that you got a thousand reasons

You prolly wanna leave, but don't know how

- Like This, NF

[obsessed-loser]

Please do not read if you don’t want to be disappointed in another human

I don’t even know who I am anymore. I have faded away over time and I am barely a shell of a person. I am going to ask you all a few simple questions and I hope you think about what I have to say.

I am asking you why. Why do you like my posts ? Why would you follow my blog? Why do you actually care about anything I do? Why are we friends, if that’s what we are. I am asking these questions for you to answer in your mind, but if you feel like telling me, that would be cool. But, I can’t be the great person you hope I will be, or wish I was. I don’t even know if I’m still human.

At this point, as I look at my life, I can see how terrible I truly am. I feel like I’m spectating my own life, and I only become a character in my life when something bad happens. Like I can’t even remember the goodness as a thing I was a part of. I watch the good roll by, and the badness hits me like a truck.

Right now , I don’t deserve death anymore. I don’t deserve the sweet relief of death. I really messed up today , and I was a terrible person. I hurt on of the best people in my life, and I didn’t even acknowledge how bad I messed up until I read one of this persons words. I might not be posting a lot, so I can wallow in self hatred. But don’t worry, I’ll do it silently, so I can’t hurt anyone else. I will keep all of it in until I have a breakdown at 2:00 am.

Also, I will be keeping the anonymous setting on permanently. I want any of you guys to be able to talk to me, and I want all of you to feel comfortable in this little space I have made. I want all of you to be able to vent here, and not feel judged in any way.

I’ve gone down the rabbit hole, and I don’t know if I will come up. I’m really sorry if I’m being dismissive or distant but I just want everything to stop.

[toriafiction]

So, this is one of my early morning brain ideas that I haven't been able to shake. I will definitely write this fic at some point, but I have other works to complete first. I'm hoping that by writing this out here and posting it that, this will be enough to let me concentrate on my main projects again.

This is a DickJay Black Butler fusion fic. You DO NOT have to know anything about Black Butler to enjoy this. Please mind the tags. This is a little dark.

Jason is an abused child living in the Alley, which is a complete hellhole. But this is Jason, so he has a heart of pure gold. One day, he finds himself in a serious situation while trying to help another kid.

It is incredibly BAD.

The situation is utterly hopeless, and Jason is just so scared and righteously furious. He wants to be saved, and he wants these monsters to face justice for their cruelty and evil.

Time freezes and Dick steps out of the shadows.

He has been watching Jason for years. The boy is his. In body, and in soul.

Dick will save him.

Just as soon as he convinces him to make his deal.

———

Dick isn't Jason's butler. He is his big brother fallen guardian angel. He protects Jason and takes care of him, and if anyone crosses him, they die horribly.

Jason is someone who has spent their entire life surrounded by evil but has stayed pure. That makes him incredibly special.

Dick wants ALL of him.

As part of their contract Jason has to 'feed' Dick. To do this he has to give him some form of intimacy. Dick keeps it to small things like hugs, chaste kisses, and cuddling.

He isn't ready to corrupt Jason's purity, yet.

Bruce is a combination of a priest and a supernatural detective. He runs into Jason and tries to save him but his interference ultimately gets him killed. This means that Dick ends up failing his contract and can't collect Jason's soul.

Dick is livid. Crushed

Then, beyond anyone's explanation, Jason comes back.

No memories and completely free of his contract with Dick.

When Jason comes back, he's changed. When he comes back, he is even more mouth-wateringly delicious.

To every single supernatural creature out there.

(Dick has a shit ton of competition.)

You would think this would drive Jason to the protection Dick is offering him, right?

But Dick wants his soul?!?!

Jason thinks he might need that. So, no. Thank you for the offer, but no thank you.

Jason goes to an orphanage run by a church instead.

Holy intervention.

At this point, Jason is overwhelmed and terrified but also just so exasperated and done with this shit.

He has every nightmare creature in existence trying to torment and eat him.

Then there is Dick, the super hot demon that wants his soul...and maybe his body? He's not too clear on that. And Dick maybe wants to eat him too.

Then there is some old creep following him around, talking about how he failed Jason in a past life and how Jason is his greatest failure. It's super uncomfortable. He keeps trying to give him what looks like satanic jewelry.

He is not going to piss off the nuns and priests by wearing that.

The staff at the church has called the police on Bruce at least eleven times at this point. He has been put in jail eight of those times. He keeps getting out and going right back to the church. He won't fail Jason again.

Dick can't enter the church grounds, but he is always around. When Jason looks out a window, Dick is there. When he is outside, Dick is by the fence nearest him. When he has to leave the church grounds for whatever reason, Dick is already waiting by the gates for him and follows him until he returns to the church. Like with most of the other supernatural creatures, nobody but Jason can see or even hear Dick.

It would be creepy, like with Bruce, but Dick is never watching him or even really looking his way. He's just always there. It feels like protection. Like a guardian angel. If angels were dark and evil.

During one of his outings, something tries to attack Jason, and Dick rips it apart with his bare hands. He is covered in the creature's blood, and Jason doesn't think he's ever looked more beautiful.

It's the first time Jason wonders if maybe he doesn't belong in the church. If maybe there is something wrong with him.

And Jason is just getting so tired of living like this.

Would it really be so bad to belong to Dick?

The thing is, Jason is stubborn and unbreakably determined when he sets his mind to it. He will never just give in.

But Jason has forgotten something important. Something he learned in a past life as a young child and knew very well.

Evil isn't just supernatural monsters.

When the gang attacks, it's just for the sake of senseless violence and cruelty. There is nothing at the church or the attached orphanage worth the invasion. This is just for their sick amusement.

There are a lot of them. They aren’t just destroying the property. They are attacking the staff and the children. Jason keeps waiting for Dick to come. He has always protected him and, by extension, the people with him, but Dick isn't showing up.

Then Jason remembers. Dick can't enter the church grounds, even if he wants to.

Their violence just keeps getting worse and more and more depraved. Right as it's peaking and Jason doesn't think he can take one more moment, something in him snaps.

Jason is more than scared. He is both terror and horrified, but he is also righteously furious. He wants to be saved, and he wants these monsters to face justice for their cruelty and evil.

Something in his soul seems to resonate.

Jason calls for Dick.

Time freezes, and his unholy angel steps out of the shadows.

He is furious.

Dick crouches down in front of him. Even though Dick has never been the largest person, his presence always fills up whatever space he is in. Now isn't any different. Despite the horrors frozen in time and on display around them, Jason's eyes are riveted on Dick. He can't look away, and his entire world narrows down to just him. Somehow, Jason knows this is on purpose.

They make a deal, and it is so easy to do. Not just because it's not difficult but because it's so familiar. That familiarity makes it comfortable.

Dick seals it with a kiss, and Jason feels it in every fiber of his being.

He belongs to Dick now, and that is familiar too.

Dick manipulates the shadows, and the darkness becomes silk in his hands. He wraps the fabric around Jason's eyes and tells him to wait there for him. Then, he starts his own massacre. Jason can't see it, but he can still hear it happening. Dick isn't quick about it either. Jason can tell just by the sounds that Dick isn't just killing them. He's tormenting them, having fun as he makes them suffer.

Jason doesn't feel any pity.

Eventually, things go silent around him. There isn't any warning before it happens, but Jason doesn't even startle when Dick sweeps him up. Dick holds him tightly but gently against his chest. Like Jason is someone infinitely precious and fragile.

He still hasn't removed the blindfold, and Jason won't until he is told he can. So he trails his hands up Dick's broad chest and shoulders, up the column of his neck, until he has his face cradled between his hands. Jason kisses him. He doesn't really know how to kiss, so it's just a press of his lips to Dick's. It's unbearably sweet in its innocence. Dick makes a low sound of appreciation deep in his chest. It almost sounds like a growl.

Dick takes him home. Jason doesn't remember having a home, but Dick tells him this is where they live, and Jason believes him. Over the next several days, Jason begins to get his memories back. Once it begins, it happens quickly. He is certain that it is somehow Dick's doing. He would want Jason to remember all the time that he has belonged to him, and he would want All of Jason. Past and present.

Jason is sitting curled up on his bed. Knees pulled tight to his chest as if that will somehow protect him even when it didn't before.

"I died," Jason whispers into the dark of the early morning.

"Yes," Dick says emotionlessly. His face is a blank mask, but Jason knows him so much better now, and that blankness tells him a hundred things.

"I don't blame you. I never did," he says it like a promise, and it is one.

Dick closes his eyes, but Jason can see the pain he is trying to hide.

He stretches his arms out to the creature that has become his everything.

"Can I have a hug?" Do you want a hug?

Dick climbs up onto the bed almost tentatively. It's so strange because Jason has never known him to be unsure about anything. They stay there curled up around each other for a long time. The sun is well and truly risen, and light is pouring in through the windows by the time Dick tries to pull him up out of bed. Jason resists, instead pulling Dick back down to him.

"Our contract is different this time," Jason says. When they had made their contract the first time, Dick had stated all the rules and conditions plainly and straightforward. This last time, there was so much backtalk, and it was so utterly convoluted that Jason hadn't had a hope in hell to actually understand what he was agreeing to.

"Yes," Dick replies.

"Why?"

"Because I know so much better this time what exactly it is that I want." Dick rolls on top of him and holds his face. His gaze is intense, and Jason can't look away. His words are soft, practically soundless. “I am going to take you with me wherever the tides of time carry us, and I am going to keep you forever. Until the end of everything.”

[bluedragonflydream]

I guess my brain will never stop proposing the possibility of not being alive whenever things get a little bit difficult. It's just the first thing I think about even if I'm doing okay, my brain will always try to find the easiest solution

[jscribbs]

NOT A COMIC UPDATE

Trigger warning harassment mention

Apologies for slow updates y'all I've been dealing with harassment and doxxing and i haven't had the energy to do anything outside of working.

That said i really appreciate the kind people on here and I'm working on the next part and I'd like to have it posted soon

[wisepainterperson]

Chapter 6 of my andromeda six drabble collection.

🖤I Need You💛

TW

blood, mentions of self harm, self harm.

The weight of the world rested heavily upon your shoulders as you mechanically finished yet another mundane task, the weariness etched into the lines of your face. The days seemed to blend together, an unending stream of monotonous routines, numbing your soul to the colors and joys that once filled your existence. But, in the depths of your heart, you clung to a distant glimmer of hope, a faint memory of your mother's tender words before you left that fateful day—words that now seemed like fragile echoes from a distant past.

Time had blurred since then, and life had taken you on a cruel journey, far from the sanctuary of your former happiness. Each step forward seemed to plunge you deeper into a void, a void left by the absence of those you once held dear. The life you once knew was shattered irreparably, leaving you adrift in an ocean of despair, with no beacon to guide you back to shore.

Your mind wandered back to those carefree days, the halcyon moments with your parents and him. The laughter resonated within your soul, the happiness a distant memory that threatened to break your heart. How swiftly it all changed, like a beautiful dream turned to a haunting nightmare. The memory of your father's joke, the last flicker of joy before the darkness descended, haunted you mercilessly.

As you stood lost in your thoughts, a sudden, booming voice jarred you back to reality, ripping you from the bittersweet reverie. You looked around, surrounded by a sea of unfamiliar faces, their gazes fixed upon you. And there, towering over you, stood the captain, a stern figure whose authority only seemed to emphasize the void in your heart. The weight of his disapproval added to the crushing burden you carried, as if the world itself was now your antagonist, conspiring against your very existence.

You wanted the tears to fall and to finally be able to release some of these pent-up emotions but alas, nothing. The contrast between your inner turmoil and the world's obliviousness to your pain felt like a cruel irony, isolating you even further. You longed for the comforting embrace of your loved ones, the warmth of their love to heal your wounded spirit, but they were now only memories fading with each passing day. In that moment, you couldn't help but wonder if all days would feel like this—endless cycles of suffering and emptiness.

"Are you deaf?" He began again and you could do nothing but look at him in a daze.

"What?" You ask dumbfoundedly, Captain Lynch did not appreciate this.

"What? I just asked you to move that stuff several times and you just ignored me that's what." He barks back quickly and again you are stunned to silence. His presence alone sent shivers down the spines of those under his command. As he towered over you, his eyes bore into your soul with a mix of irritation and contempt.

You wanted to muster the strength to explain yourself, to tell him that your mind was consumed by thoughts of loss and sorrow, but his hostile tone silenced you. Your silence only served to fuel his anger. His face reddened, and his nostrils flared as he leaned in closer, invading your personal space.

"I don't tolerate insubordination on my ship," he growled, his voice dripping with venom. "You're here to work, not daydream." Your heart pounded in your chest, the weight of his words adding to the burden you already carried. His lack of empathy felt like a cold, sharp blade, cutting deeper into your wounded spirit. You yearned for a glimmer of kindness, a spark of humanity from this man who held so much power over your life, but it seemed like a futile hope.

"You know somehow you still surprise me with how far that stick is shoved up your ass Cal." One of your new crew mates had spoken up against him, as she did quite often. Ayame had apparently arrived on this ship with Calderon Lynch, obviously the were rather attuned to each other's ways.

Ayame met the captain's gaze with unwavering defiance, her eyes burning with the fire of someone who had been pushed to their limits. "I'm tired of watching you bully everyone on this ship, including this poor soul," she gestured towards you. "We're all human, with feelings and struggles, and you can't just stomp all over us like we're insignificant bugs."

He took a long deep breath in and released it while holding the bridge of his nose in aggravation, "No one's bullying you or anyone else. We have less than half an hour to hall ass off this gods' forsaken planet or we'll all be reduced to dust, and I don't think now is when we need to be distracted." he begins.

"Couldn't you have just said that." You manage to contort just loud enough that both can hear. Calderon seems less than amused but Ayme takes it and throws it at him again.

"Yeah, you don't have to be so mean about it."  Captain Lynch's face flushed an even deeper shade of red, his jaw visibly tensing. He was not used to admitting fault, let alone to someone who had recently joined the crew.

Ayame's words seemed to have struck a chord with Captain Lynch, and for a moment, you sensed a glimmer of vulnerability in his eyes. But that moment quickly passed, replaced by his customary stoic facade. He cleared his throat, his voice regaining its authoritative edge.

"You think you know everything, don't you?" Captain Lynch retorted, his voice laced with disdain.

Ayame stood her ground, undeterred by his attempt to belittle her. "Maybe or Maybe not, but that doesn't give you the right to treat people like garbage," she replied with a steady voice. "We're all in this together, and we should be supporting each other, not tearing each other down."

Captain rolls his eyes and walks away with a grumble, yet again you've done something to earn his disapproval. You've been on this crew for all of 3 months and you've managed to lose his shoes somewhere between the laundry and his room, burn and boil over his coffee, and break his favorite mug. Needless to say, you weren't friends by any means but that didn't mean that you didn't think about if you were. Actually, you'd thought about him in many ways, many that would more than likely looked down upon if there were to ever come to light, but you talk to no one anyway.

"Don't worry about him." Brought out of your thoughts once again, this time by a much kinder voice.

"Yeah, no, he was right. I shouldn't be so distracted." You say defeatedly, dragging yourself over to the pile of boxes that had tumbled over.

"So, your content to roll over and let him treat you like that?" She joins you in picking up the scattered objects and helps you put them back into the wooden crate.

"No, just don't feel like arguing." you say softly.

"She also likes him and doesn't want to step on his toes, you know, any more than she already has." You hear a familiar tone that you tried to avoid at all costs but here and now there was nowhere to run.

"Somehow you seem more insufferable as the days drag on." you state clearly annoyed at his teasing. You didn't spare him a glance but could hear his army boots hitting the floor as he sauntered ever closer. He comes to sit on the balls of his feet in front of you both, his arm carelessly laying over the side of the box and he eats his cookie.

"Well, I'd say t got better but then, technically, I'd be lying." Sarcasm dripped from every word that spilled from his mouth and for some reason it was always just the right thing to get under your skin. Damon was the constant irritation in the back of your mind, the fly buzzing in your ear, or the thorn from a cactus that you simply can't seem to find. He was fast, smart, and dangerous, your typical girls dream and her father's worst nightmare.

As Damon continued his teasing and sarcastic remarks, you felt your frustration growing. He had a knack for pushing your buttons, and it seemed like he took great pleasure in doing so. Ayame shot Damon a disapproving look before turning her attention back to you.

"Don't listen to him," Ayame said reassuringly, her voice softer and more empathetic than Damon's.

You appreciated Ayame's understanding, but Damon's presence was like a dark cloud that overshadowed any comfort you might find in her words. Despite your annoyance, there was something magnetic about him, and you couldn't deny the strange allure he held over you.

Damon flashed you a mischievous grin, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. "Oh, don't mind me," he said, taking another bite of his cookie. "I'm just here to provide some entertainment."

"I don't need your entertainment," you replied tersely, trying to maintain your composure.

"Come on now, don't be so cold," Damon teased, raising an eyebrow playfully. "I'm just trying to brighten up your day. You look like you could use a good laugh."

His comment hit a nerve, and you felt the tears welling up again. "I'm not feeling well, I'm going to go lay down." You say standing and brushing yourself off in a crude attempt to wipe away the anger you were feeling.

"If you aren't feeling well maybe you should go see- " You assured her that you just needed to lay down and you'd be feeling much better later. As you walked closer to the loading docks doors you could hear her scold him and make him take your place in cleaning up the spilled boxes. There was very little left to do before take-off and you were sure that the rest of the crew was more than capable of handling it.

You stepped out of the loading docks and into the corridor, the weight of the recent events and the encounter with Damon still weighing heavily on your mind. Each step back to your room felt like a struggle, as if an invisible force tried to hold you back, preventing you from finding solace. The ship's corridors were usually bustling with activity, but now they seemed eerily quiet, amplifying the isolation you felt.

As you walked, the memories of happier times with your family flooded your thoughts again. You yearned to turn back the clock, to undo the irreversible events that led you to this desolate state. But life doesn't offer second chances, and you were left grappling with the unyielding reality that you were alone on this journey.

The darkness in your thoughts intensified, as if the ship itself conspired to push you further into the abyss of despair. Every flickering light seemed to mirror the fleeting hope within you, only to be swallowed by the all-encompassing darkness once more. The walls felt like they were closing in, suffocating you in the silence and solitude.

As you passed by the crew members going about their tasks, their laughter and camaraderie felt distant, almost alien. It was a stark reminder of the chasm between you and everyone else. They had their bonds and relationships, but you were merely a passing shadow in their lives.

You finally reached your room, a small, confined space that now felt more like a prison than a sanctuary. The walls seemed to close in even tighter as you entered, and you collapsed on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. The weight of your emotions pressed down on you, threatening to crush whatever hope was left in your heart.

In the solitude of your room, your mind revisited the memories that brought you pain. Each thought was a knife, piercing your heart, and you couldn't escape the relentless assault of grief and loss. The past was an unyielding captor, unwilling to release you from its grip.

As time passed, the ship's engines hummed with a low, rhythmic sound, a constant reminder of the journey forward. But as much as the ship moved physically, you felt emotionally stagnant, trapped in a cycle of despair that seemed never-ending.

The darkness outside the small window mirrored the darkness within you. Your heart longed for healing, for light to break through the gloom and show you a path forward. But in the grip of your grief, it was hard to see beyond the overwhelming emotions that engulfed you.

You know how to fix this. The voice in your head began, it liked to haunt you, to taunt you in these times. "No." You groaned out rolling over onto your side to stare blankly at the drawing from bash that were scattered among the walls.

Why not? No one will know and if it makes it go away then no harm. No harm what a laugh. Unhealthy habits die hard, that's what you'd learned to tell yourself. You'd tried the ice and salt, you'd tried drawing on your arms with markers, even snapping yourself with a rubber band but nothing really helped. Not like that use to.

Exactly, so why not one last time? Your thoughts were louder now, more confident, snider. Your body seemed to move of its own accord, plopping down into chair in front of yourself and opening the drawer to your left. That was the desk you kept your art supplies, your drawing pad, and the knife Damon had given you. "For protection," He'd said.

The sound of the lights buzzing overheard spilled over into your thoughts as you pondered the decision you were about to make, the fall from grace you were about to have. You grabbed the knife and laid it flat on the table, running your thumb over the smooth metal. You had cut your wrists before but this would be different. Different because it'd been 3 long years of sobriety you'd be looking in the face and ignoring.

The thought of all the pain you were about to put yourself through was almost enough to stop you. Your hands trembled as you held the knife, ready to make your last cut. Your breath hitched and you felt a wave of nausea wash over you.

That's it, do it. Let yourself have that relief, give yourself one last break. The voice taunted you, "It's not a break, I'll be in control." You replied out loud, your grip tightening on the handle. You began to rub it up and down the inside of your left wrist, creating a light, teasing cut. Your hands began to shake again, and your stomach churned as the blade danced across your flesh.

You were going to hurt, but you would survive. The pain was temporary, the freedom from the torment was worth every second of agony. You closed your eyes, trying to block out all thoughts and just feel. One became two, two became five, and soon your arm looked like a cutting board, but it isn't hurt and neither did your heart any longer.

A knock on your door draws you from world you'd created in your mind, suddenly reality hits you like an ocean wave. "Uh- One second!" You managed to get out in a shaky voice, suddenly feeling guilty and embarrassed about what you'd been doing. You weren't ashamed of cutting or why you did it but you were still worried about what others might think of you.

You grabbed some tissues and did your best to clean your arm, though it was already starting to bruise and looked quite bloody. You put the knife away and turned your attention to your door again. You weren't in the mood for company, but it was probably Ayame again. Hastily you wrap tissue around your arm and throw on your jacket before walking over to your door and hitting the panel to open.

If it had been Aya you would have been prepared even a little aggravated but when your eyes met the deep blues of Captain Lynch's you froze like a deer in head lights and instinctively hide your arm behind your back.

"Can I come in?" He ask in an exasperated huff of air. You're not sure why he's here, but you certainly weren't going to turn down a chance to talk to him.

"Sure," You reply as you move out of the doorway to allow him in, "what can I do for you?" You ask again, this time a little more awkwardly.

He walks in examining your room as if he were the judge of some show. "Its been brought to my attention that I've been unnecessarily cruel to you and I'm here to apologize." He says finally turning to address you.

"Ayame really laid into you didn't she." You say jokingly crossing the room and sitting in the desk chair you'd just been in, you notice the drawer still slightly ajar and shut it quickly before responding. He gives you a look as if to say,  yes you are correct while running his fingers over the leaves of the plant Ryona had given you to keep you company.

"Well, no harm no foul right." You say nonchalantly hoping he'd take that as his cue to scurry off back to his big chair that sits smack dab in the middle of the control room. "It's also been brought to my attention that you've been isolating yourself in your room more often then usual," he says, again eyeing your room with an inquisitive gaze. "And I feel like I may have added to that," he continues and sits down in the small chair in front of your desk. "I think I need to tell you something."

You aren't sure what to say or do at this point, you can feel your heart pounding in your chest, you can feel the butterflies in your stomach, but you can't help but feel like this is going to end badly. You want to speak up, but you can't seem to find the words to say, you can't seem to break out of the silence you've become trapped in.

Thankfully you were both interrupted by Ayame calling Captain Lynch to the front and for the first time in what seemed like forever you took a breath. "Seems like that need you on the bridge." You say under your breath trying to avoid eye contact.

"Indeed," he says getting up from the chair and looking out the window. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry for being so harsh with you. I didn't know you'd lost your family or that your father was such an asshole." You cleared your throat uncomfortably and turned away without another word. Seeing as the conversation had struck its natural conclusion he took his leave.

The trip was going to be a long one, but you weren't ready to open up and be vulnerable. You knew you needed to but you didn't want to, it was a lot easier to just keep everything to yourself. But eventually the dam would break, and when it did it would be catastrophic.

As you made your way back to the small window in your room, you could hear the ship's engines begin to turn on and rumble to life and it wasn't too long after that they everyone was called to the bridge to be strapped in. On the bridge, Ayame and Captain Lynch were busy preparing for the ship's departure. Ayame was preparing the system for flight while the captain sat in his big chair, observing everything with a watchful eye. As you entered, they both acknowledged you, but you kept your distance, not wanting to engage in any conversation at the moment.

"Well if it isn't the recluse." You could hear Damon say as he waltzes up behind you. You turn to face Damon, His sly grin only added to your already troubled mood. "The walls of your room must miss you," he adds with a chuckle.

Rolling your eyes, you try to brush off his teasing. "Yeah, well, I prefer my own company," you retort, trying to keep the conversation short.

Damon raises an eyebrow, clearly not convinced by your response. "Sure, sure, the great mystery of the galaxy brooding in their room," he replies, feigning drama. "But seriously, are you ever going to join us normal people on the bridge? You know, to witness the beauty of space or something."

You clench your jaw, feeling more agitated by his taunts. "I'll be there when I feel like it," you mutter, attempting to move past him and head to the bridge.

However, Damon steps in front of you, blocking your path. "Now, now, don't get all huffy," he smirks, placing a hand on his chest in mock innocence. "We just miss having you around, that's all. It's been so happy without your emo vibes."

The comment hits you like a punch to the gut, and you can feel the anger boiling within you. "Happy without my 'emo vibes'? You've got a real talent for being a jerk, Damon," you snap, unable to hide your irritation anymore.

Damon's grin falters for a moment, seemingly surprised by your reaction, but it quickly returns as he brushes it off. "Whoa there, calm down," he says, trying to act nonchalant. "Just trying to lighten the mood, you know."

"Yeah, well, maybe pick a different approach next time," you retort, taking a step back, ready to leave. The last thing you want is to spend any more time dealing with Damon's antics.

But just as you turn to walk away, Damon reaches out and grabs your wrist firmly causing you to yank it back with a yelp of pain. The room froze and everyone seemed to stop and look towards you and Damon. You'd instinctively grabbed your wrist and begun to hold it to your chest as your eyes glanced over the many other pairs of eyes that now watched you both.

"You're bleeding." the captain says, rising from his chair but you take another step back towards the door. Your world seemed to be collapsing around you with every second that passed. The room fell silent as everyone watched the tense interaction between you and Damon. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and anger mixed with fear was bubbling inside you. The pain in your wrist seemed to intensify as you held it against your chest, trying to hide it from everyone's view.

Captain Lynch took a step forward, his expression now serious and concerned. "Are you alright? Let me see your wrist," he said gently, extending a hand towards you.

"No, I'm fine," you replied, trying to muster up a brave front, but your voice quivered slightly.

Damon's earlier smirk was replaced with a look of genuine concern, and maybe even anger, "He wasn't asking." at this moment you were more afraid of the look Damon was giving you then the man twice his size that was still reaching out to your arm.

"I said no!" was all you said before turning around sprinting out the door and down the metal corridors.

As you ran through the corridors, your heart was pounding in your chest, and your mind was racing with a mix of emotions. Fear, anger, and confusion all tangled together, making it hard to think clearly. You had to get away from Damon and everyone else, finding solace and safety in the only place you knew—the familiarity of your own room.

You sprinted through the ship, your mind solely focused on reaching the sanctuary of your quarters. Tears blurred your vision, but you refused to let them fall. You didn't want to be seen like this, weak and vulnerable. As you approached your room, you fumbled with the panel to open the door, your hands trembling from the adrenaline rushing through your body.

Once inside you let them come to a close and lock the doors behind you, sliding down against it until you were sitting on the floor. Your breaths were ragged, and you finally allowed the tears to flow freely down your cheeks. The pain in your wrist, both physical and emotional, felt overwhelming.

You didn't understand why Damon's actions had affected you so deeply. Yes, he was rude and insensitive, but there was something about his grab that triggered a painful memory, reminding you of your past and the loss you had endured. Your father's abusive behavior flashed before your eyes, and the wounds that had never fully healed were ripped open once more.

Feeling the weight of your emotions becoming too much to bear, you reached for the small plant that Ryona had given you. Holding it close to your chest, you tried to find some comfort in its presence, as if its mere existence could help soothe the turmoil inside you.

As time passed, the commotion outside your room died down, and the ship's engines hummed steadily. You could still hear faint voices, but you did your best to block them out. You didn't want to confront anyone right now, especially not Damon or Captain Lynch.

It wasn't long before there was a soft knock on your door. You didn't respond, hoping that whoever it was would assume you were busy or resting. After a while they went away and you were left in silence again, watching the stars pass by had helped some but the constant wrenching of your heart seemed to only grow as the moments passed. It was late enough that no one would be awake and there was always one place you liked to go.

You dragged yourself from your bed and changed the bandages on your arms before leaving your room as quietly as possible. The halls were dark, and most were already snug in their beds and attempting to sleep over the noise of the engine. Finally, you made it to the lower levels of the ship, just before you reach the dock, there was a large window that seemed to jut out of the side of the ship. When sitting there you almost feel as if you're floating through space in your own bubble.

You sat by the large window, your knees pulled up to your chest, and your arms wrapped around them. The stars outside flickered, painting the vast canvas of space with their distant light. The gentle hum of the ship's engines provided a comforting background noise, lulling you into a sense of peace despite the turmoil within.

You stared out into the endless void, lost in thought. The events of the day, the confrontation with Damon, and the unexpected interaction with Captain Lynch weighed heavily on your mind. You couldn't help but replay the memories of your past, the painful moments you had tried so hard to bury.

Deep down, you knew that running away from your emotions wouldn't solve anything. You needed to confront the pain, the anger, and the fear that you had been carrying for so long. But it was easier said than done. Opening up, being vulnerable, and facing the past was terrifying, and you weren't sure if you were ready for it.

As you sat there, you heard footsteps approaching. You didn't turn around; you didn't need to know who it was. Part of you hoped it was Ayame, understanding and compassionate, but another part feared it might be Damon or even Captain Lynch, wanting to address what had happened earlier.

The footsteps halted behind you, and for a moment, there was silence. Then, a voice broke through, hesitant and awkward. "I'm sorry," Captain Lynch said softly. This made you turn and glance at him from over your shoulder, he wasn't clad in his usual uniform, instead he wore a simple t-shirt and joggers. Like this he seemed far less intimidating than before.

"Why are you apologizing?" You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions before responding. "It's not your fault," you said, your voice catching slightly.

Captain Lynch hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours for the right words to say. "I should have handled the situation with Damon better. I shouldn't have let it escalate to the point where you felt the need to run away," he admitted, his voice carrying a tinge of regret.

You turned your gaze back to the stars, finding some comfort in the distant lights that seemed to listen without judgment. "It's not your responsibility to babysit me or control how others behave," you replied, trying to sound strong, but your voice wavered.

He sat down beside you, his eyes also fixed on the cosmic expanse. Seeing him like this next to you made him seem comedically bigger than everything around him and it made you smile.  "Maybe not, but I care about the crew, and I care about you," he said quietly.

What? He what? "Captain listen-" You began but he stopped you short.

"Calderon." He corrected his eyes still firmly fixed ahead of him.

"Calderon." You repeated. "I really appreciate it, and I hope we can put this behind us but I think we both know that it won't happen." You confess trying not to sound bitter about it. "So you can just drop me off the next planet you get to and I'll figure the rest out. "

You sigh turning away from him and back towards the window. You could feel a lump forming in your throat and you felt the tears threatening to spill over once more. You wouldn't be able to hide your feelings much longer and the last thing you wanted was for him to see you break.

"I don't want to drop you off," Calderon says softly. "I want you to stay. I want to help you."

"Why? Why would you want to help me?" You ask with a shaky voice. "I'm not worth it."

Calderon reached out and gently brushed his fingers across your cheek, wiping away a stray tear. You couldn't help but blush at the unexpected contact and looked up into his soft blue eyes. "You're worth it. And I want to help you because I like you." Calderon says softly.

You weren't sure what to say, how do you respond to that, "You can't just say stuff like that." Was all you could muster.

"Ok well, A. I'm the captain and last i checked I can say what I want. " He says wearing a smug smile, you could see he was looking at you from the corner of his eyes and you were sure he could notice the steady blush talking over your cheeks.

"And B?" You question, feeling a bit emboldened.

"Well, I guess you'll have to find that out," he said with a sly grin. You could feel your face burning as you tried to look away from him, and he chuckled softly before standing up and holding out his hand to help you up.

"I'll let you get back to your brooding, but I'd like you to talk Ryona about your arm." he said but once you were standing again you simply shook your head.

"I'm ok." you say, holding your arm close to your body again. He gave you a knowing look but nodded and left you to your thoughts.

***

When you began to make it back to your room, you tried your best to compose yourself, using your jacket sleeves to muffle your sniffles. You couldn't believe what had happened, but you couldn't help the feelings it stirred within you. He liked you? You couldn't help but replay those words in your head. It was one thing for him to say it happenstancely, but he'd really said it.

It took all your willpower not to run down the hall screaming that he likes you, you like him, it was a perfect   moment. And yet, it made you feel even more conflicted. The conflict was part of the reason you'd been avoiding everyone. The thought of everyone knowing about the pain you carried, the memories that haunted you, terrified you. You weren't ready to face it, to confront it, not yet.

You knew you needed to speak with Ryona about your arm, you could see the bruises forming and the blood from the cuts seeping through. You walked over to the door and pressed the panel to open it, maybe tomorrow.

As the door slid open, your breath caught in your throat and your face burned with embarrassment. Your bed was a mess and clothes were strewn all over the floor. Damon had been through your things, going through your private things. You were about to let out a yell of anger and frustration when you saw Damon standing beside your desk, holding up the knife you'd used to hurt yourself before.

"I told you to be careful with it, " he was definitely not his normal cocky and charming self. No he was angry, more angry then you'd ever seen him.

You took a step towards him, clenching your fists. "Why were you going through my things? What the fuck is wrong with you?" You felt the heat rise to your face again as your frustration boiled over. You had a lot of things you wanted to say, a lot of emotions you wanted to release, but none of them seemed to make it past your lips.

Damon turned around to face you, his own hands clenched into tight fists. "Why were you cutting yourself with this?" He asked, his tone even more angry. "Did you think I wouldn't notice? Did you think I wouldn't care?"

"I thought you'd be happy about it," you fired back, "you're always picking on me, teasing me, so you'd think this would be your opportunity to have a good laugh at my expense."

"So, what, you think I'm an asshole then? I thought you were better than that," he said, stepping closer to you. "You think I want to watch you hurt yourself?"

"Well, that's what you seem to do isn't it? Tease me, make me angry, get me so worked up I have to hurt myself to calm down!" You could hear the anger in your voice, but it was nothing compared to the anger you could feel coming off of Damon.

"Don't fucking turn this on me," he says, his voice shaking with anger. "You can't use me as an excuse.

"I am not blaming you for this, dammit," you snap, "and yes, I am blaming you! You're the one who brought it up, you're the one who started this whole thing by teasing me."

"I didn't mean for you to take it this far," he says, "I didn't realize..."

You wanted to reach out to him, to comfort him in his moment of weakness, why? Why did you want to comfort those who hurt you, you'd never know.

"It's not your fault. I shouldn't have taken it this far. But I couldn't help it, I just...I needed to let it go, you're so fucking infuriating sometimes. So, you're right, it's not your fault. I just couldn't stop myself." You said, trying to force the words out.

He looked at you for a moment, and you could see his eyes searching yours. "I'm sorry," he said, reaching out to touch your cheek, but pulling his hand back in the next instant.

"You're not the only one," you said softly. "I'm sorry too. I should have talked to you, but I wasn't ready."

"No, I should have stopped this from happening," he said, his voice breaking.

"I know, but it just got out of hand." You sighed, rubbing your face. "I need to get to bed." You said, moving towards the door. "Good night, Damon." But before you had a chance his hand grabbed yours and in an instant the world became still.

You could feel your heart beating in your ears and every nerve in your body felt electrified. You could feel the air around you change. You could smell the warm sugary like scent that hung in the air, feel the warmth of his skin on yours.

He became close, so close you could feel his breath against your neck and the gentle brush of his lips. His hand gripped yours and you felt a surge of power run through your veins.

"You know I don't like it." He says quietly, almost so softly you couldn't hear it. "When you cut yourself." His cologne was intoxicating mixed with the smell of his shampoo from his normal evening shower.

You swallowed hard and nodded, "I know." You said softly.

"I-." He seems to struggle to voice his feelings, his voice a whisper that barely reaches your ears. "I want you." His hands had left yours and begun to grip the fabric of your shirt on either side of you. "I want to stay. " Like this he almost seemed like a pouting child.

You felt the softness of his lips as they touched the back of your ear, his hands running over your sides. If you weren't red before you certainly were now. This might was confusing, Damon and his feelings are confusing, but you'd be lying if you said you'd hadn't thought about him saying those words to you before.

"O-ok." Was all you could manage. For the first time ever you hugged him and he hugged you back. Never had his walls tumble down so far but tonight something had shook him to his core, the thought that he might lose you and it would be his fault.

"I'll sleep here with you," he said softly. "I won't let you do that again." He said, his hands sliding up to cup your face, his thumb brushing across your lips. "Please, don't hurt yourself anymore." He said, his eyes begging you to understand.

Your heart was pounding, and your cheeks were flushed. "Ok." You whispered.

[eryna]

haha hehe I love when I can't participate in the thing I love without incapacitating panic attacks

tw: dysphoria, depersonalisation, depression

Jesus Christ I hate everything

I love choir. I love singing. I love it, it's so fun and I've had some very good choir directors in the past.

On the other hand, the director for the audition choir this year is actually the worst. I had him last year but like. Jesus.

I've asked him NUMEROUS times to not use 'boys' when referring to tenor/basses or 'girls' when referring to altos/sopranos and guess what? Guess fucking what? His excuse is "oh but it's too hard and I've always done it this way"

But guess what's worse? When a real woman cis girl alto 2 gets dragged down to tenor 1 for a song that's high for everyone, guess fucking what? He goes "boys and [name of girl]". THEN even when they AREN'T there, and we have a sub, I get misgendered by some of the bases. All of this culminates in the same god damn broken strategy my mind has used before: depersonalisation! It's kinda like having your mind be sucked through the air suck thing at the dentist. Usually causes a headache, some disorientation, etc. real big fun hours.

And then my fucking parents

My mom will be explained to how my dysphoria works and how much it hurts when she does x or y and guuueesss what??? She'll eventually end the conversation with "we love you, [deadname]"

Like fucking REALLY? ARE YOU FUCKING SURE? IS THIS WHAT LOVE FEELS LIKE?

and there go my friends, moving away

and there goes every one of my supports

and there goes the only thing that kept me alive

next year, my grade will probably be the worst they've ever been. it feels more and more hopeless, day by day. what can i do? I'm stuck here, at the place called home, and every other place I go hurts me anyways

I'll be alone. I'll be stuck here. I'll be forced into a grinder there is no coming out of. An event horizon. A wall that I am mercilessly forced into. What do I do then? Do I just accept permanent scarring on my mind? Permanent, unfixable injury? Do I just accept that pain, that torture? And if I don't, what can I even do? I've vowed not to kill myself, forced myself into a deal that, if attempted to be broken, would destroy me. Kept it strong since October 30th, 2022. How strong am I? How long can I hold this broken mind together?

I just feel as though I can see when my life ends, and every day rushes past, and I'm running out of time. I can see the day that my life ends, and there is nothing I can do to stop it. I run, I go as fast as I can, but when that day comes, what can I do? I will Die, no matter what. And then I will be in hell. And then I'm supposed to live.

[am-i-jojo]

"I bite at the hand that feeds me

Slap at the face that eats me"

[stuckaqua]

Just a little contrast 🦌🌸 🩸🦴

[eryna]

Venting here because there is nowhere else to do so.

Venting here because I've been able to talk to the few friends I could talk to less. Venting because we used to actually have conversations, we used to help each other, and now none of that happens. It's like we barely know each other, but they were my closest friend.

I know I am trans.

I know I am trans because when I pretend I am not, I feel claustrophobic; stressed, shoved inside a too-tight container. When I pretend I'm not, when I must not throw a fit while the wrong name is used, when I must not act any different when I am told that I am a boy and will always be one, the pressure gets so high that I dissociate. Better to not feel, barely think, than deal with this pressure.

And I know I am trans because when I do accept that, I find genuine happiness. That, however, is not what this story is about.

I am in choir class. I ask my teacher to not use 'boys' and 'girls' when referring to altos/sopranos and tenors/basses. I am told that it is 'hard to learn differently' and that he had used it so much it's just natural to him, but don't worry, he means well.

And then it is a rehearsal before the concert, and one of the alto 2s was pulled to the tenor 1s for one song, and he says "boys -- sorry, boys and [alto 2's name]". I freeze, once again forced into the internal fight to not shatter, and I almost shut down.

And it was last year, and I'm told that I'm legally not allowed to use the women's bathroom anymore, and that the teachers have to notify parents of trans kids, and out them, and I have a panic attack in the one class that I can trust. Next year, every one of those people was gone. Out of the building, or out of the job.

And it is last year, and someone calls me a faggot, to my face, twice, directly in view of the cameras, and they get suspended for three days, and apparently when the principal had called home he had asked whether I used any other pronouns, and that was enough to make my mom ask if I "thought I was a girl". Next summer, I am outed to her and almost faint trying to talk to her.

And she, over the next couple of months, constantly uses stereotypical 'oh look at this tall boy' phrases that she KNOWS HURT ME.

And I have no one to talk to, and I am alone.

My mind is just scars. It's so hard to even get close to people, even the slightest physical affection feels foreign, and then when I finally warm up and learn how to feel, they leave and I am silent.

There are so many places I am not allowed to go, so many things I am not allowed to do because I am not a Woman. Anything vocal, anything performance related, I am not allowed to even attempt at finding a feminine role in. And I watch as my transmasc friends go the places I am not allowed to, and watch as they are given free reign to take any role, and I sit by on the sidelines.

And I watch as my friends all get into relationships, and I do not, and watch as I am all alone, and any attempt at finding someone just pushes them away, and I know it is not my friend's fault, and that is what makes it worse because it just makes me curl up more, and hide more, and makes me less and less willing to try.

And next year, my closest friends are physically leaving, both to different states. So I prepare to be cold, to be on my own.

I write here to vent. Don't attempt to say that things will get better, or that actually a lot of people care about me, because all you can do is hope, and we both know that means nothing. All I need is for someone to listen. To hear me. I'm just so tired of this

[edward-d-sonata]

[mychemicalroadworkahead]

Quick content warning for this one, it’s gonna have some discussion of substance abuse. If you’re not comfortable with that then I hope you have a lovely time scrolling tumblr.

Alright so. Putting out there just at the beginning that I have issues with drug abuse and alcohol.

So I absolutely turned into the joker during my debate class today. The group that was going today had the topic of “Drug test should be required when people apply for welfare”. Okay whatever.

The affirmative’s entire debate was just that “the government shouldn’t have to waste money on people who are just going to go out and spend it on drugs”. I’m not even joking.

The negotiation did really well pointing stuff out and providing. Actual data from research. And I’m very happy with how they did that.

What I’m not happy about is that the affirmative, AFTER THE DEBATE WAS OVER, kept saying shit like “why were they so focused on the rehab statistics” and “why should the government have to pay to fix these people’s problems”.

And obviously I know that when you’re in high school you aren’t exactly expecting there to be a. Literal addict in your class. But you can at least guess that, with the number of people in the class, at least one of them probably knows someone who has substance abuse issues, especially in the area we live in.

I’m gonna be honest, addiction fucking sucks. It’s awful and I literally just relapsed (about ten minutes ago) after almost 3 months of sobriety. But I can absolutely tell you that the number one thing that is going to make me not want to get help for it is hearing people stereotyping groups of people as drug addicts, saying there’s no point in trying to help us, and * saying shit like “it’s your own fault”.

All this to say, please be cautious about what you say with stuff like this. You never really know who’s around that it can affect and it’s also just incredibly harmful to recovery. Just in general, try to be more gentle with people. I know it’s hard sometimes, trust me I’m really bad at it, but try to be gentle. I love y’all, goodnight.

* Note: this is the point where the drugs and alcohol kicked in. Btw vodka tastes like shit