#tw for self harm

[lucrezianoin]

be... be kind... it is my first wyllstarion fic :'D

[dioles-writes]

• OC FICLET •

Masterlist | Characters: Felix (he/him), Akali (he/him), Reese (they/them)

Characters in blue belong to @jiphenn

Felix had been gone for over a day when an electric blue portal finally crackled to life, interrupting everyone in the base from what they were doing.

Akali glanced up as the boy stumbled through the portal and back onto the cold cement floor, almost teetering over.

Felix had never looked worse.

It was apparent he hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep, his eyebags more hollow than usual. His eyes themselves were tinged red and puffy, his face swollen, an evident sign that he’d been crying. His clothes were stuck to his skin, stained a pure crimson, white fat smeared along his sleeves and pants. His hands had dried blood crusting under his nails, caked onto his fingers. He winced as he stepped into the base, limping in pain as he tried to make his way forwards. He looked like he was going to collapse any second now.

“Felix!” Akali jumped to his feet, running over to him.

Felix’s eyes lazily drifted over to him, devoid of any of the warmth they had previously held before Paradise. They were dull; dead. “Hey.” He breathed out, the action seeming to take up all the energy he had left. He blinked hard, wavering on his feet, barely even standing upright at this point.

“Where the hell did you go?” Akali looked at him, face tight with worry, as he sat him down, careful to not rub against his bloodied arms.

Felix took a shaky breath in. “Doesn’t matter.” He mumbled, eyes darting to the ground, avoiding Akali’s gaze. He fumbled with his clothes, yanking off his sweatshirt, his hands trembling so hard he could barely manage it, his actions slow and unsteady.

Akali’s eyes widened.

His skin was marred by scars. They ran up and down his arms, thick pink marks against white flesh. What was more horrifying about the sight was the blood gushing down his arms, deep gashes sliced through his skin, oozing white fat. It wasn’t like anything he’d seen before. Wasn’t like the cuts he had seen five months ago, the ones Felix had so desperately tried to hide. They’d been thin, deep enough to scar, but not enough to bleed heavily, not like this. It looked like as if he’d tried to carve into his very being, like he’d tried to shred his skin. Akali couldn’t take his eyes off it, shock seeping into his core.

Felix blinked hard again, breaths growing weaker by the second. “I need to get healed.” He slurred, speaking slowly. “I’m gonna… pass out.”

With that, his eyes rolled up into his head. He went limp, body falling back onto the cold, hard cement.

Akali could hear the others rushing to Reese and shaking them awake to save Felix’s life. Could hear them groggily waddling over to the two of them. Felt them crouch down beside him, face ghostly and pale, as they brought their hands above Felix’s wounds, fuzzy particles making their way towards him through the air, slowly fixing the torn tissue, knitting his skin back together.

But Akali didn’t move. Couldn’t move. He was frozen in place, staring at his best friend’s mutilated figure, disbelieving.

He didn’t think he would let it get this bad.

[stripesofbrooklyn]

ooc

Feeling really triggered. Was in a car with my abuser, I feel like calling him that instead of my brother because it's an appropriate term, and he was screaming his head off at me...I literally did nothing wrong. He was feeling particularly viscious and he lashed out verbally. He threatened me as well.

Tell you the truth I was so upset because nothing ever changes my parents never stand up to him...I cut myself. I used a razor. I am in a domestic violence situation....i need out but I can't afford to...

[ryuzatodraws-backup]

Do not lose him , Agatha

It's dark. 

windy yes but darkness surrounds Agatha. That is until the Sister starts to step forward, only then the air feels like it's shifting. The faster she walks the more she realizes she's in a clod of smoke. Smoke that feels like eternity. 

''Oh, wha-what?'' She continues, reaching out to nothing, waving her hands as if she's swimming in a sea of black vapor. 

a sound hits the barrier. Something flickering almost like the sound of a candle wasting away. She makes her way closer to where it could be until she sees a figure.

A ghoul , sitting. with soft sound of sobbing. 

with a gasp she woke up on the bed, grabbing the sheets as she sits up hurriedly. 

The Papa next to her stirs as he rubs his eyes. ''Mmh, what's wrong Sorella?'' Copia adjusts his eyes in the dark. It's 2 am according to the analogue clock on his table. 

Agatha hurriedly puts on her clothes on the floor before turning to him. ''Papa do you know Jack's room?'' 

''Jack?'' Copia asks confusedly, the name sound familiar to him. 

''The ghoul that's  always in smoke - the uh the Bomb ghoul! people always call him that!'' She starts to put on her shoes at this point. 

''Oh!''

____________

''Its the one on the end of the hallway!'' Copia is running up behind Agatha, trying to catch up onto her. The sister is fast alright. 

The room is locked shut but a small trail of black smoke escapes through the key hole of the door. She tries the door but it won't budge. 

''Stand back Sister'' Copia kicks down the door near the handle, with enough force the door swings  open and a huge mass of smoke rushes out as if the whole room was on fire at some point. 

Copia coughs but Agatha already braces through the black fog as she makes her way to what she could only describe as Jack's bed. 

It's black, tar and charred with just the ghoul on the lump of sheets, not moving a muscle. 

''Jack!'' she shakes him but he did not wake up. He remains limp in her arms. The sister turns towards Copia and the Papa nods.

____________

Iv drip were inserted into Jack's arm as he sits on the bed. Knees up to his chest as he looks away guiltily. The sister sits next to him on the bed, her hand on the white sheet as she tries not to touch him. Its quite the contrast really...the stark whiteness of the room and how black Jack's smoke is seeping into the air. 

''What were you thinking? were you trying to kill yourself with all those smoke?!'' Copia exclaimed. They got to the infirmary just in the nick of time. Jack was barely breathing , he's ridiculously thin when Copia was carrying him almost weighing nothing but sticks and bones. 

''Yes'' The smoke ghoul slowly reply as he looks away.How did they figure out where he was? how did they know? Either way his plan had failed and he didn't know whether to be dissapointed with himself or not.

The two fell on an awkward silent as they look at the ghoul. So he was trying to...They did not press it further.

''I'm gonna stay with you tonight, Jack'' Agatha made up her mind whether the ghoul wants it or not. 

''Why? so that you can make sure i try to not kill myself?'' the smoke ghoul snaps back at her, not intentionally of course. 

''No, that's my job'' The Papa had pulled a chair over and settle onto it cosily. ''I'll be right here.'' 

Jack looks away,unable to meet both of their eyes. Sister Agatha took the liberty to sit in the opposite chair where she could watch Jack throughout the night. 

''I just want to stay here tonight.''

[hiddeningrid]

im starting to suspect that i have PMDD. i checked back the dates when i was having very bad suicidal ideation and planning, and all of them seem like they happened just before my period.

i'll have to keep better check of it to have more accurate data, but g'damn. i seriously went through such an intense episode like two days ago, i made an actual researched plan and all, couldn't sleep cos i wanted to harm myself so badly, and then my period started and now i feel, uuh , okay???? like hey what the fuck, actually. that's a pretty fucking big fluctuation.

[idkhowtoactaroundfood]

My mother brought me to therapy

Now the therapist know about my sh

Who want to see how this plays out? I sure don't

[dorksidefiker]

Y’know, absolutely nothing the TERF twits have sent me today tells me they’re anything but exactly what I called them: the mean girl from middle school.  We’ve got the self-martyring, the claims that THEY’RE the ones being bullied, one who claims to be hurting herself (and thought sending me pictures was somehow a good idea, have fun with that), a few death threats, more than a few accusations of me being a guy (which is, to them, the worst crime of all), making fun of my age, my hair, my weight, my glasses...

Bitches, my ACTUAL middle school bullies were better at this than you.  And at least THEY weren’t running around quoting Hitler and failing biology.

[anulithots]

TW for mentions of self harm, self hatred, suicidal ideation.

(thank you all for kind responses to the previous vent post. It's fine I think. Should be fine. I have coping mechanisms for a reason and lotff will be written if it's the last thing I do.)

Okay so here's my justification for not writing as much as I should, as much as i WANT to.

My parents know about the land of the fallen fairies, they used to want me to read what I wrote to them.

Trying to please them made me do so many revisions, rewrite so many times because no matter what I did it was never good enough for them.

"too complicated' 'too dark' 'your stories you wrote when you were ten were better' 'this is just a hobby why do you let it take so much time away from schoolwork'

My happiness takes away from schoolwork and that's so much of an issue I guess and anyways:

'your going to dissaude 90% of your audience with how you write' 'why can't you write a happy story' 'do stories even need conflict' 'if you write your emotions into your writing then you aren't actually writing something good. It's from the outside world and it isn't yours'

(And fine. FINE. Do you want to hear what's mine? Do you want to hear my conglomerate of coping mechanisms I need just to get through 24 hours? No? Too dark? What do I do then?)

And that's not even mentioning the time that using non gendered pronouns caused their anger and a subsequent self harm event.

(WOuld you like to hear about that? that's mine, isn't it? The time where I locked myself in the bathroom and raked an eyebrow razor down my arm until the skin ripped off? It bled a lot. You banged at the door. it didn't even hurt. I didn't regret it at all. I was only scared that you would find out. I stuffed the blood full of toilet paper. It didn't stop bleeding. more bangs at the door. I pulled my sleeve to cover it and pressed it into the blood. Later I had to pull the threads out of the scab. that hurt more.)

Or the time that you fled to the bathroom all upset and it was my fault because my story wasn't tinkerbell happy.

Or all the times when there was something wrong with me and you mentioned lotff by name, ANuli by name. They belong to my intneral world. My safe place. My reason to live at times. 'I have to live because who else is going to finish the land of the fallen fairies?'

And you mentioned it by name to say what's wrong with me. That I should stop spending so much time on it.

(rewrite to make it better and justify it's existnece. my existence. over and over and over again.

Pour and frustrate over every word, every sentence a poetic struggle because hopefully it's enough to make it okay. To make it not a mess. It's myslef and I barely exist outside of it.

Strange coping mecahism huh?

You'd think I keep my reason to exist safer.

Nope. this is myself we're talkign about. My mess of a personality that shouldn't exist.

Blabbered about it with all my dumb words, too fast so they wouldn't bore anyone else, yet understood. I dug my own grave. silly silly.)

It needs to be perfect and it needs to be perfect the first time because it's what's in my head and all I have to say as myself and they hate it. It's known and they hate it.

they saw that fricking video and I wanted to take it down.

"you act psychotic'

ANd what if I am? What if I'm sooo messed up inside and barely keeping it together?

What if that's what I put on paper because that's me isn't it?

'burden everyone with your emotions'

SO. I. WRITE. THEM. DOWN. SO. NO. ONE. ELSE. HAS. TO. HEAR. THEM.

SO I CONFORT MYSelf with them so eveything's okay. It's never gooiing to be and I'm just fooling myself because what an utter fool am I. Wasted potential and all that.

Yes whatever's wrong with me (all of it and everything) comes out on paper and what I say and every bit of it is a burden to you all and you all would rather it didn't exist and SO do i so i don't show you all so I write it down so I perfect it with every once of myself so I mark down my existence through the characters you hate.

Making ANuli got me in trouble.

silly silly.

Spent too long on faer during vacation. Yelled at. Finished faer in the closet so no one else would see.

took faer out when I thought it was safe and you thought fae was great and that I should display faer and not mess with faer. i want to use faer for photos but how do I do that if I don't have a phone?

Fae's broken now.

how nice is that?

in cannon fae tears off all faer borken leaves and I finally get to put my self harm onto paper how nice how nice how ncie.

'writers are like this, tortured and thinks too much.'

yes yes. SImple misunderstanding. Writers like me are insane and broken and BECAUSE of that they write. The writing does not cause anything. AN effect an effect. My reason to exist and I cannot take a break if I'm unhappy with it.

Why would I take a break?

I stop existing.

and it's swirling in my head. coiling in my heart. it hurts. write it down and it's not right. not good enough. not what I had in my head. who would wnat to read this it's long and tedious but it's anuli's and you deserve to exist as you are but aren't you my vessel for feelings of self-hatred so I must exist then.

I don't want to exist.

I want my existence to live as it is.

Understand my dilemma?

[starlightseraph]

house md will always be remebered as the most insane thing ever broadcast because of how unabashedly feral everyone involved was.

a short collection of things that happen on the show, just off the top of my head, not even scratching the surface:

- house shoots a random dead body in the morgue and then sticks him in an mri machine, which pulls the bullet out of the dead guy’s head and destroys the machine, costing the hospital millions

- foreman gets bitten by a person with rabies

- chase kills an african dictator

- cameron steals drugs from a patient after possibly getting hiv from said patient

- house induces a migraine and then takes a drug made by his arch nemesis (who he’s been stalking for 25 years) to get the drug taken off the market. he then takes lsd (in the hospital, in the middle of a case) to cure the migraine.

- chase goes into anaphylaxis after doing body shots

- house stops an elevator so he can perform a cavity (vaginal) search on a teenage heart transplant patient who’s in cardiorespiratory arrest

- they give a neurosurgeon mushrooms to cure his food poisoning, then they stick him in an operating room. the neurosurgeon strips in front of a health board assessor.

- kutner dies for gay marriage

- house sets an autopsy room on fire while trying to juggle flaming bottles

- house gets recruited by the cia

- taub gets held at gun point after diagnosing a stripper with skin cancer

- in almost every single episode, the team breaks into multiple houses

- house fakes terminal brain cancer so he can get drugs implanted directly into the pleasure centre of his brain

- house cons us immigration to get his fake wife a green card. he also uses his fake wife’s ukrainian food truck to spy on people

- house tries to get wilson, his closet case boybestfriend, into bed every few episodes. every other sentence out of house’s mouth is about wanting to rail wilson.

- taub has a kid with his ex-wife, after they divorce, at the same time he has a kid with his 25 yo side piece. the kids’ names are sophie and sophia.

- house and wilson have a bet on who can hide a chicken in the hospital the longest without anyone finding out

- house tries to kill himself like 6 times and always fails (insulin shock, overdoses, electrocution, jumping off a building, cutting, etc)

- house fakes his death to get out of a prison sentence after violating his parole so he can live out his bi love story with his gay best friend who has 5 months to live

[3ddp0ny]

Is somebody gonna match my freak? (Double suicide)

[iwillnotseeheaven]

[piercetheaspenn]

I don’t struggle with sh, I’m very good at it actually

[tavania777]

the moment sh goes from punishment to reward, you're cooked

[kyri45]

Will Wukong have a huge panic™ because he thinks MK will never see him the same ever again?

Someone asked for hand holding so I gotta give you the most fluffiest elements in the most angstier of contexts.

Shadowpeach Bio Parent AU (PREV / FIRST /

Personal comments under the cut (mentions of past self harm)

Around 3 years ago I had some anxiety issues, one of the main things that I thought it wasn't self harm for so long was the fact that when something that involved other people went wrong because of a choice of mine (even just minor inconveniences) the pain of guilt was so strong that to turn it down I had to physically sting my skin with my nails. (I play guitar, so I always have a hand with longer nails to play arpeggio). Never it went to the point that it would bleed, but bc of that I thought It was no problem. Thanks to my therapist I know that just because it wasn't the "typical" self harm doesn't mean it wasn't a serious issue.

All of this to say that I might be projecting a little. And honestly I can't even imagine how terrible Wukong might feel everytime the guilt comes back to him...

[mostly-funnytwittertweets]

[idkhowtoactaroundfood]

TW: VENT, SH, ED

Soooo I was "recovering".

I'm back.

The thing is I really thought I was trying but somehow i couldn't convice myself that I was ready. I have gotten so much healthier this year, I stopped cvtting myself and broke up w my toxic ex and got a new, fantastic, bf and finally got aroung to going to therapy. I was very happy to have a kind of new family (my bf's family) and they all really care for me and my mental health. I started doing better and eating more. Until about three weeks ago when they went on vacation and I was left alone with my fatphobic mom.

I thought I was doing better for myself but actually, no, I was doing better to make my bf's family happy, but I havr been myserable, knowing that I'm gaining so much weight. I have been so self-consious ever since that I think I'm going back on track.

So thats it.