#unintentional self-harm

[katethevampire]

OH MY GOD HOW AM I STILL ALIVE MY DUMBASS WAS JUST FIDGETING WITH A KNIFE

[fletcherwilbury]

@whumptober Day 11: Self-Done First Aid

Warning for blood, blood loss, dizziness, unintentional self-harm, overworking, exhaustion, and past injury.

[devtemrys]

Fun stuff, yaya. I’m mentally drained and achy from surgery. 

[blaackbiird]

don't get me wrong i love the morticia/gomez vibe version of these two just as much, but god the angst is addictive

don't ask me how this conversation with Husk even began, I haven't thought that far lmao

[edit: did this relatively quickly, i may come in and refine these lines at least at some point]

[painsandconfusion]

Off Guard

Whumping the Whumpers - Part Thirty-eight

(tw: electrocution, escape attempt, concussion, torture, death mention, murder mention, plotting murder, handcuffs, stun gun, blood, beating, unintentional self harm (bloody knuckles)) [Previous | Masterpost | Next]

Ethan’s fingers tingled as he walked, flicking them against each other by his side to stave off the sensation as he moved down the hall. 

He didn’t want to be too loud. Not tonight. The light was off in Nate’s room, so the bastard must finally be getting some half decent sleep. No reason to wake him and have the idiot trying to take over the scene. Again.

He shoved open the workshop doors, ignoring the slight grinding whine the hinges gave off - though still subconciously noting to add some kind of oil or whatever the fuck you do with hinges later. As the lights snapped on, the pitiful lump of a man in the middle of the room curled into his chains, a small sound of displeasure coming off of him.

“What, were you sleeping? I’m sorry-” Ethan stepped up to him, almost delicately pressing a foot down onto a dried slurry of blood that gashed over Crawford’s thigh. 

“Hnn-stopstto-”

“Hmm… I dunno, maybe beg a little more and see if it puts me in a good mood?” The edges of his mouth seemed to shift, tugging like curtains pulled by a string on the other side of the room to coax a smile out of him. 

Getting there, at least.

It was an almost completely forgotten sensation. Smiling without meaning to. It pulled an entirely different set of muscles than the simple, polite curve he gave to people he wanted to shut up or leave him alone. Different than the ruse he put on or the sarcastic toothy grin he threw in Nate’s direction in place of a verbal response. This was something different entirely. Like a little parasite had carved up inside his cheek and gnawed at the thin strands of muscle until they tightened like strings of a violin, ready for the steady screech of rosin to truly set them alight.

“Y’mdnr-”

“Hmm~?” Ethan’s foot ground in further, leaning in to see Crawford’s face as the man squished it against the cement. 

Another incoherent slurry of sound pressed from the man’s throat, still curled into a ball around the spot where the shackle lashed him to the ground. 

Ethan rolled his eyes, pushing off the man with a small kicking shove before crouching down and squirming his hand into the knotted ball of a man to grab his jaw. Twist him round. Hear his neck crackle with the fresh movement after nights sleeping on cement.

“Use your words,” he prompted, forefinger alone relenting the grip to taptaptap on Crawford’s jaw.

.PaiN.

Pain.

Ethan knew pain.

Close friends as they were for so many years, it was strange he found himself at a loss for its name when it reared its ugly head once more, overwhelming his mind in a single snap of blank, processing emptiness.

Ethan felt the echoing crack as his head hit the concrete, remnants of what he was finally recognizing as electricity buzzing down his twitching legs.

Some strangled growl ripped up his throat as he tried to right himself enough to grab for the man who was shoving on top of him, but his arms were slow - groggy from sleeplessness, shock and lost, aimless electrons trying to find their way underground. 

He shoved at Crawford only to feel the prongs of the stun gun shoved hard into his collarbone, burning agony through the skin and crackling as if eating through the bone itself as he thrashed to shove the searing pain away.

My name is Ethan Scott. The mantra lit up the back of his skull without prompt or ask. It was just there.

It begged him to fall stoic. To sit still and take it. Be tough. Be a good b-

No.

No-

NO.

My name is Ethan Scott and you cannot break me.

He won’t sit still- he can’t. Taking it isn’t strength right now, taking it is defeat.

Crawford was the one in chains today. 

Ethan’s hands scrabbled for Crawford’s arm, finally knocking the thing off of his flesh with a roaring gasp, shoving the other man off of him as best he could. 

Knuckles snapped against his nose, crunching it back. Some dull part of his mind calculated that that wasn’t even half the force of Crawford’s normal blows, but it locked up his mind anyway, pushing his gaze hazy and blurred as heat snapped across his sinuses and exploded behind his eyes. 

There was blood. He could taste it.

Shoving numbly, he was barely keeping up enough to track the bastard’s fingers knotting into his hair and slamming his head into the ground. Again. Again. Again-

And it stopped.

The weight lifted off of him in a blur of white and charcoal grey, sound muffling to the side. 

Ethan shoved back, hand moving to his face to press against the bleeding and squeeze his eyes shut to will vision to return to him. His head was spinning, like he was about to tip over and crack against the ground again. 

He shoved it back. Forced his eyes open and made them focus on the sounds and movement to his left as he shoved himself up on an elbow to squint at the unknown blur.

It took a moment to process exactly what he was seeing. 

Nate was a cheerful kind of bitch. The asshole whose smirk you could never wipe off. The life of the party. Class clown. Charmer. No matter how many screams he ripped out of Ethan, he did it with a gentle, almost seductive tone, grinning, smirking, or smiling almost fondly. He’d only seen Nate angry the once. When they’d met for the second time. 

But this savage blur in front of Ethan’s bleary eyes had him wondering if he was knocked into a dream. Blood splattered up Nate’s face from the sheer force of his hits as he drove his fist into Crawford’s face again and again, snapping it back and forth against the unforgiving cement. He didn’t even have to pin the man down - the welp on the floor couldn’t do anything but try to throw his arms up in front of the blows, shielding his face. 

Nate didn’t seem to care. He hit them too. Silent yet somehow screaming a rage tha echoed through Ethan’s skull.

Ethan sat there for several long seconds, trying to blink away the mirage in front of him before it slowly sharperned into clarity. It was really happening. 

A dull thought finally graced his addled mind. He’s going to kill him.

Immediately a panic pressed up through Ethan’s veins like acid, snapping him to attention and the closest thing to lucidity his star-studded mind could handle. He shoved up to his knees and flopped forward to tackled Nate off of the man. “St- sstop- STOP!”

Nate shoves at Ethan, trying to throw him off enough to get back to Crawford. Ethan could practically see the red smeared over Nate’s eyes as he shoved the man’s hands away, fogged body easily ignoring the nails slicing blood from his arms in their desperation to return to their proper target.

“NATE STOP.” Ethan finally just grabbed Nate’s face, forcing it toward him. 

Nate’s eyes stayed on Crawford, but he did slow, chest heaving and teeth barred like some kind of animal.

“..that’s enough-!”

Nate tried to shove off the words along with his hands. “He w-”

“I get to kill him. Me. Not you. Me.” 

Nate’s breath stuttered off its ragged rhythm, and his jaw set, lips pinched tight as a glare snapped to Ethan’s eyes at last. 

In a surrendering kind of huff, he shoved Ethan off of him again. This time Ethan let himself roll to the side, lying with shallow, echoing breath on the ground as Nate shoved out the workshop doors at a brisk walk, sticky hand leaving a smear of blood like claw marks over the edge of the door.

[Previous | Masterpost | Next]

(tags: @prisonerwhump @whumpawink @wormwriting @distinctlywhumpthing @whump-cafe @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @azayta  @batfacedliar-yetagain @there-will-always-be-blood @siren-of-agony @whumpworld @bandages-andobsessions-deactiva @deltaxxk @whumpasaurus101 @pickywhumpreader @whumpberry-cookie @morning-star-whump @nailevislev @throwawaywhumper @the-mourning-star @d-cs @pigeonwhumps @suspicious-whumping-egg @snakebites-and-ink @whumpedydump @orphans-parent @whumplr-reader @rainbowsandwhumperflies @starfields08000 @sunnyesunny @crystallizedme @lumpofsand @taterswhump)

As always, lmk if you want to be added to the tag list!

[littleaipom]

"Face Yourself" 💥

[void-of-unparalled-chaos]

Me: "Okay so let's do some family fluff this chapter!"

Jason "this character can fit so much angst and bad coping mechanisms in him" Todd: "Or what if I immediately have an obsession-induced panic attack and unintentionally self-harm?"

Me: "...Okay yeah I guess we can do that..."

[asktoastythearcanine]

CW: Blood and unintentional self harm below

I- I-... I can't move on from it all. They took so much from me, with no consequences. I hate them. I hate them so much...

My head hurts... Why does my head hurt?

New Hints Available:

|| Shaymin is not the only dead legendary. Dialga has died as well. ||

|| What did the Dragons take from Artorias? ||

[jokerislandgirl32]

When Violet Gets Angry Don’t Get In Her Way…

As I discussed in this post, Violet was in a toxic/abusive relationship prior to her relationship with Zach. Below I’m posting a scene from my Wild Violets AU that details the aftermath of Violet’s breakup with her ex. It’s dark stuff, so here we go…Please read the tags/following trigger warnings before proceeding further.

TW: Abusive Relationship mention/description, TW arson attempt, TW unintentional/attempted self harm, TW cursing (only mild 2 words), TW bruises mention, TW implied abuse. Please do not read if any of this makes you uncomfortable!

“I'll set fire to the whole place I don't even care about our house It's not the same in here since he left anyways…”

“Burn it down, burn it down, burn it down, burn it down…”

“Always said I was a good kid Always said I had a way with words Never knew I could be speechless Don't know how I'll ever break this curse…”

Burn It Down

Zach’s POV:

I watched as Violet, in a fit of rage, stormed through her childhood home, she grasped a set of keys that once belonged to her father in her shaking hands. She tore into a closet adjacent to the kitchen, and unlocked a cabinet within, pulling out a box of matches. Her clothing was torn, her hair was disheveled, her face was streaked with tears and was red from crying, and there were bruises blooming on her tanned skin.

I knew who had done it, but I didn’t know the extent of what had happened. The Zachbots and I arrived only a half hour before to a horrible scene, I shuddered at the thought…and people called me a villain. We’d taken care of the situation, but the damage had already been done and Violet wasn’t speaking to me about any of it.

A few of the Zachbots and I trailed along behind her. She threw open the back door of the cottage and headed to a small shed in the backyard, she pulled out the key ring again and flipped through the keys, muttering to herself under her breath, she started crying again and dropped the keys to the ground, screaming out as she did so, “why did he do this to me? How could he do this to me? Why does he keep doing this to me?”

She grabbed the keys with her shaky hands, shuffling them to find the one she wanted. I reached out and touched her shoulder, but she jerked it away from me, “What did he do?” I asked her, but she ignored me, sobbing and muttering to herself, clearly absorbed in her own thoughts.

Violet found the key she wanted and stood up, going to the door of the shed and unlocking it. She dove into the musty cobweb filled space with little to no care about what varmints might be lurking within, and she came out holding a gasoline can.

My anxiety immediately spiked, no, she wasn’t….she couldn’t…She locked the shed and tucked the keys into her dress pocket, heading back to the house with the gasoline can in one hand and matches in the other, a look of pure rage on her face, mingled with fear and despair.

Violet opened the gas can and began pouring it on the deck to the cottage and throwing it against the back door and walls, she threw the can down haphazardly and shakily took out a match and tried to light it…she was going to do it, shit…she was sobbing uncontrollably. I knew she wasn’t thinking rationally, and I knew she was going to get herself hurt or worse if I didn’t stop her.

“VIOLET! NOOOO!” I screamed out, causing her to turn her attention to me long enough for me to order one of the Zachbots to grab her and another to secure the matches and throw them into the nearby water.

“VIOLET! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!?! YOU COULD’VE HURT YOURSELF OR…OR…OR WORSE!” I yelled at her, pulling her away from the Zachbot’s arms and into mine instead.

“I just wanted to forget what he did…I wasn’t trying to hurt myself!” She sobbed, burying her face against my sweater and wrapping her arms tightly around me.

I wrapped my arm around her and steered her toward the nearby dock. Violet untangled herself from me long enough to lock her arms around my waist in a side hug. I wasn’t too excited to be sitting on the filthy boards, but I feared if Violet stood any longer she’d pass out from exhaustion due to her hysterical crying.

I called the Zachbots over to me and told them to properly clean up the gasoline, a chore they were well used to since they were programmed to clean messes of all types.

Violet had yet to raise her head from my chest, but her sniffles were becoming quieter. I sighed and lowered my head until my face was pressed against her hair. I involuntarily kissed the top of her head.

Violet tilted her head up to me and looked at me with her large blue violet eyes, as if she was caught off guard by the kiss. She turned her head and looked to the water before us, the sun was setting and had painted the sky a dramatic display of oranges, pinks, and reds.

I took her moment of distraction to yet again ask her the question that was tearing me up inside , “what did he do, Vi?”

Violet breathed out slowly, and turned back to me with a trembling lip, she glanced back at her childhood home, then refocused her attention on me, “Enough to make me wanna burn this place to the ground…just so it’ll be gone, because every time I see this house…I remember it all…”

I repeated my question more firmly, pushing her messy hair out of her face, “What did he do?”

Violet shook her head, and started crying again, “I can’t tell you…not yet…”

And this is the springboard for them getting their matching tattoos….

Selfship Taglist: @snailchans-imaginarium @crunch-crunch-eat-a-bunch @changingcore @bitchywitchheart @stoatsapphic @3qu1us-main @kittycatkissez @benreillyswife @creativegenius22 @genderqueer-bithing @serenitytodd1234 @mailiow @celestetheseaunicorn @barnesncavill @mayixxxmoon @gui-mauves @evander2511 @bat-anon

Please let me know if you want to be added/removed! Details in pinned post!

[celastapasta]

Quiet When I'm Coming Home and I'm on My Own

Whumptober 2023, Day 3

Prompts: Solitary Confinement | Words: 678

Summary: No. No, no, nonononononono. They can’t have- I can’t be-

The district attorney floundered forward, full-body slamming into the glass barrier between them and - Me, Damien, Celine, my body - their mind swirled, struggling to put a name to who was walking away from the mirror.

Check it out on ao3 or read on below!

No. No, no, nonononononono. They can’t have- I can’t be-

The district attorney floundered forward, full-body slamming into the glass barrier between them and - Me, Damien, Celine, my body - their mind swirled, struggling to put a name to who was walking away from the mirror. The cracked surface made it difficult to see properly out into the foyer of the manor, and they found as they desperately pressed against the cool surface the edges pricked and sliced their palms and cheek. William’s distressed voice echoed oddly from the other side.

“I’m here! I’m in here Will, I- Please!” The district attorney called out, their voice cracking. The shadows around them ebbed and melted and ate at the corners of the room and furniture, and they could feel them creeping up their back. They were tangible, perhaps even sentient, and it made them panic even more, banging their fist against the glass.

“Damien! Celine! Please don’t leave me in here! Come back!” They don’t know how long they stayed like that, screaming for the twins and the colonel, even Mark, but their cries became few and far between when their throat became hoarse and near swollen.

“I trusted you,” they sobbed, the finality of it finally getting to them. The district attorney slid down to the floor and curled around themself - hands bloody and throat aching - as the fact that they were completely and utterly alone seized them. The shadows took advantage of their defeat, crawling up over their feet and twining up their legs. The sensation was freezing, everywhere the shadows touched chilling them down to the bone. It made it difficult to move, but they found they didn’t want to. Better just to rot.

The grandfather clock on this side of the mirror didn’t work, the hands forever stuck at the time the twins abandoned them. The only source of light in the dark reflection of the manor was from the mirror above their head as if it were a window. The attorney took to measuring the time they were trapped by the way the square of light faded and grew each day at their feet. They gave up counting after the first four months. What was the point? No one was going to come for them.

And yet they still held out hope. Their ears strained for the strange, watery echoes of voices on the other side. They prayed that someday they would see the shadow of someone peering into the mirror. But nobody came. They were a fool for hoping, of course. Mark, Damien, Celine - they all used them, and why would William or the employees of the manor ever want to come back to this hellhole?

The DA’s mind frayed - eaten apart by shadows and loneliness. Sometimes they were certain they heard voices and they would shoot to their feet, nails scraping against the glass as they tried to catch a glimpse of whoever it was. They’d shout their voice raw all over again. But they’d never see anyone, and no one answered their calls.

The reflection of the manor decayed with the house over the decades - the windows to the outside broken but opening out into a void, furniture becoming waterlogged and covered in cobwebs - but it was impossible for the district attorney to change anything. They couldn’t move the shadowy tables or benches an inch. They couldn’t break anything in their anger as their heart squeezed and shattered. Even their prison acted like they weren’t there.

They don’t know how long it had been since that fateful party. Months, a couple years, decades. After a while the deep, smothering sadness twisted and turned into something malevolent. Something hateful. They needed to get out and make the twins pay by any means necessary. It was only fair, and they’ve given them a lifetime to prepare.

And then the perfect opportunity came in a voice full of pity and smugness that pierced through the dense shadows of the mirror.

“Oh, my dear friend, what have they done to you? It’s not fair, is it?”

[max-jagerman-asks]

["Well, he didn't accept, so. Time for consequences~"]

[They grinned, their spirit appearing next to what was so dutifully called a literal monster. They swerved around him, laughing as they forced themselves into his body, the cold spreading along his limbs. Their mind trying to take hold of him.]

[They are trying to possess him]

[@unknowns-understanding]

[Max stumbles back, he claws at his own chest. Something in him howls in protest. It hurt it hurt it hurt it hurts. He’s too cold, he’s never been cold like this. He hasn’t really felt cold sense his first change happened. He tried to rip the ghost out.]

[whumpacabra]

Day 27 - Scars

Scars, back from the dead, referenced torture and captivity, unintentional self harm mention

[Directly follows Seeing Red]

Without the thick bandages around his hands or the bustle of the hospital’s rotary of nurses and doctors, Harrison could stare at his hands.

The only permanent reminder that it had been real. (The headstones had been laid months ago, but his own was being dug up next week - they were far from permanent.)

His palms were pale, still lacking the warmer hue that had been drained by months underground, undernourished and underfed. But it was the silver that drew his eyes, threads like jellyfish tentacles woven across the creases of his skin. His fingertips were slowly regaining feeling, but the thick pads of scar tissue wouldn’t go away easily.

His scars were his own doing, desperate hands breaking nails and raking palms over the stone door that separated him from the others. From the torture that left real scars, intentional scars.

“Uncle Harry, is it alright if I come in?”

Harrison blinked up, the softness forced to his features as he laid eyes on his niece. Mel had only grown a few inches in his absence, but with another sibling on the way and old enough to understand a funeral, she had a naive maturity to her voice.

“Hi Mel, what’s up? Mom say it’s time for dinner already?” He couldn’t tell if the shadows in her gaze had always been there or were reserved for her revenant uncle. Most kids didn’t bury a family member and have them show up half a year later (mostly) unscathed.

“No - there’s a lady at the front door asking for you.” Mel shifted from foot to foot, fidgeting with her hands. Dark and smooth and unscarred. “She said her name is Sarah. Sarah Walker. She has some paperwork - ”

Right. Agent Walker.

“On my way, can you keep to the game room downstairs? We’ll be talking in the dining room.”

Mel nodded, dark eyes lingering on his hands as he combed them through his thick curls. When she ducked from the doorway Harrison let his smile fall, lungs cold and numb. He could do this - he could reopen scarred over memories, bleed for the sake of government paperwork. It’s not like he had any scars worth the strangled sob in his throat.

He made it out - and if that wasn’t enough, he made it out almost unscathed. Almost - not quite - but he could hold it together long enough to sign whatever bullshit documents the CIA needed his name for.

[Followed by Rewriting History]

(Part of my Freelancers: Swansong series)

[buglersholiday]

Murder Alec Returns

[ninjastormhawkkat]

Divorced Amazing Cheese: Braingirl au

This idea was inspired by the posts going back and forth with @drtwobrainsstuff about their divorced amazing cheese/dadbrains au idea, plus discussing hero Steven and the braingirl au on discord with @melodythebunny. I have decide to combine these thoughts and ideas with the Braingirl au, and make them worse😈. Note: this is one of the darkest and most angst filled au’s I have developed. It is not for the faint of heart. Trigger Warnings: Seriously a lot of heavy stuff is mentioned so read at your own risk! I am not kidding. 

So the hero Steven melody and I discussed falls in the braingirl au where Becky gets fused with Squeaky, but the accident also causes Steven to inherit some of Becky’s powers. So now he has to take on the hero mantle and protect the city while also having to deal with his now cheese-obsessed villain daughter. So hero Steven is sort of Batman dark in the braingirl/mousegirl au’s that I pictured. He doesn’t care about being in the superhero spotlight. He feels that he doesn’t deserve all the praise and ‘keys to the city’ and stuff like that since he cause Fair City to loose their original hero in the first place. He only takes the mantle of hero so this city won’t fall into utter chaos. He is a lot harsher with the villains in the beginning, it is especially bad when some of the villains asks where Wordgirl is. Steven’s death glare makes them shut up about it. Steven is not friendly with them because he views them as criminal scum who deserve to be locked up and punished for their crimes like that parasite that is currently attached to his innocent child’s brain. He does ease up a bit after incidents such as the Miss Power arc, but even then he still remain cold and aloof with them. Only a few people in Fair City are privilege to Steven’s old personality. He is still caring and loving towards Becky despite everything. Becky may be fused with the mouse brain but she does not want to leave her dad because of mice preferring to live in packs mentality. She does not know her dad is the new hero or that bob is huggy since she has forgotten her old identity as wordgirl. She does know she is a super-powered alien being. Steven’s personality has definitely changes from canon, despite a few people, Steven is now a cold, melancholy, and serious person. He is very protective of his child and is prone to outbursts of anger if someone wants to talk about Becky’s new mysterious mouse behaviors or talk very badly about the villain braingirl or dare even question about wordgirl’s disappearance in front of him. Steven at this point has allowed the guilt and regret from the accident to consume him as well as the rage and self hate towards himself. He closes himself off from others who in a concerning and caring manner want to help him as he believes that helping his child is his own burden to bare. Steven has sacrificed sleep and sometimes eating in order to complete his research into saving Becky from Squeaky. 

Now this is where Amazo Guy comes in. So braingirl has been doing her villain gimmick for a while now, soon she ends up stealing some really fancy cheese from this billionaire guy who has a lot of security. Her and Steven get into their usual hero vs villain battles which are tame compared to other villains because of you know reasons that only Steven knows. Well one poor security guard who is trying hard to prevent Braingirl from stealing his boss’s prize cheese tries to help Steven and ends up grabbing and yanking hard on braingirl’s mouse tail in order to try and keep her from fleeing the scene with the stolen goods. Now one thing for all animal loves to know, you NEVER yank the tail of any animal while their back is turned and their guard may or may not be up. Braingirl on instinct retaliates and accidentally slashes the guard’s throat just so he would release her tail. If this were just an attack by a regular person or a small animal, then the man would have been fine, but this attack was done by a super-powered alien child who is fused and influenced by a vicious mouse brain. He became deceased on the scene immediately and too quickly for anyone to help him in time. Becky is stunned in horrified by her actions but Squeaky compels her on mouse instincts to flee the scene. Steven and Huggy, also stunned by what happened, just let Braingirl get away. Steven flies home and finds Becky curled up under her bed covers with a shocked and horrific expression on her face. She comes out of the shock and just looks helplessly at her dad and silently whispers with tears beginning to come out of her eyes, “I think I did something very bad today dad?” Becky gets emotionally distressed very quickly and has a hard time explaining what happened but a few clear details come out. Steven just grabs Becky into the tightest, most comforting hug he can muster without using his powers and just quietly soothes her while she is a sobbing and hiccuping mess. He repeats over to her, “I know you didn’t mean to do it, I am not angry with you, We’ll try to figure this situation out, I still love you.” Steven tries his best to consolidate his guilt ridden, mouse-brained child, while also dealing with his own emotions over the event. 

(Note: Steven does not condone what Becky did or tries to make excuses for it, Braingirl did kill someone while committing a different crime. He does realize that Becky was not in the right state of mind when doing this and had not intentions of even killing the guy. She acted on impulse and in a brief moment forgot how strong she really was and was just trying to get the guy to stop pulling her tail. All Steven is doing right now is trying his best to get her through this trauma and not let her fall into guilt-consuming state of mind similar to the one he deals with after the accident.)

Things get worse with the citizens of Fair City. This event sparks up a debate on whether let Wordman (hero Steven) continue to deal with Braingirl or permanently incarcerate her because she has shown to be a dangerous threat to citizens lives as well. Some believe that she needs to be taken out permanently because of how dangerous she is despite being a child. The government decides to call the hero league located in Global City because Braingirl is too powerful for them. The league sends Amazo Guy who was a colleague and very close friend of Steven to deal with the situation. 

Now at this point, the people of Fair City don’t realize that Braingirl was once Wordgirl and the way the information in Fair City is distributed, the heroes in Global City don’t realize that Wordgirl is missing and replaced by Wordman.

The relationship between Steven and Amazo Guy was like with the divorced amazing cheese I discussed with drtwobrainsstuff a while back with my miss crimes au. They had feelings for each other, very strong ones, but did not develop them into a dating relationship, it was more flirting with each other while still being oblivious if they other likes them the same way back. Steven is surprised yet panicked when he sees Amazo Guy come to Fair City. Amazo Guy explains to Steven why he is here and Steven gets more scared and worried about Becky who is right now kind of hiding out at her house for a while why the henchmen, Bob, and her dad give her cheese to satisfy Squeaky. Steven tries to deter Amazo Guy and say that what happened was really bad, but they have Wordman dealing with it. Unfortunately Amazo is staying resolute and says that he believes Braingirl is a threat to everyone and she needs to be taken care of. Amazo Guy hopes he only has to put her in a confined jail cell permanently until matters can be resolved and not be forced to take drastic measures. (Sad truth established in most universes with heroes and villains; Heroes can’t save everyone.) Amazo Guy has to leave and flies away to begin his immediate search for Braingirl because people are scared and it is the job of the hero to protect the civilians. Steven angry that Amazo is not listening to him and now more than every terrified for Becky’s safety, rushes and puts more focus on finding a way to deal with Squeaky and try to resolve things. Unfortunately Wordman and Amazo Guy are about to be put into another confrontation. 

Becky is again forced by Squeaky to steal cheese so she sneaks out of the house quickly and quietly to get cheese from the grocery store. Someone unfortunately spots her and screams, both Steven and Amazo Guy hear the scream. Braingirl tries to escape quickly back home but is soon caught by Amazo Guy who tries to arrest her. Due to the cheese being removed from him and being a hungry little jerk, Squeaky makes Braingirl more feral in her attacks on Amazo Guy ex. biting and scratching. Amazo Guy starts to fearfully believe he may have to permanently take down Braingirl and Becky does get bruised up and injured a bit from the fight. Wordman and Huggy intervene to try and save Becky. In the struggle Steven’s mask comes off and it is revealed to Amazo and Becky that Steven is Wordman. Amazo is confused as to what is happening and Steven gives the truth in a sad and melancholy voice. Amazo Guy gets angry at Steven that he would risk endangering his own child like this. This pisses Steven off and he yells back at Amazo that he has no right to judge him like this, he doesn’t realize all the guilt and self anger Steven had to deal with, how he spent countless, sleepless nights trying to save his child from his own messes, how he hates the way he became a hero because of his mistakes. He also yells at Amazo Guy angrily and tells him off for trying to harm his child and treating her like a threat instead of trying to help her which what Steven was trying to get Amazo to do earlier. Amazo tries to calm the situation down and does apologize, but reiterates that she needs to be contained in a secure location until a cure can be found for the safety of herself and others. Steven nor Huggy likes the idea of Becky being imprisoned like a lab animal for a long time, even if it is for her own good. 

Becky, who is recovering from shock that her dad is Wordman, tries to fly away to escape Amazo Guy and go back home where it is safe for now. Amazo tries to stop her again, but he is greeted with a punch in the face by Steven. Steven goes into “If you want her, you have to go through me mode” which leads into an Avengers: Civil War and Batman vs. Superman type conflict. Huggy goes after Becky to keep her safe and does not want to be apart of that emotional filled battle between two former people who were in love with one another. Now it is a battle between a hero trying to uphold heroic mortals and debating on whether to listen to his heart or his head vs a father trying to protect his child who is already an emotional mess and dealing with the heartbreak and anger over fighting against someone he once loved dearly who dared to harm his child. Just like the Batman vs. Superman movie, someone does die. I won’t say who.😈

@melodythebunny @drtwobrainsstuff

[savventeen]

where does my anxiety live?

is it in my legs? they can't stop shaking no matter how hard i try taptaptaptaptaptap goes my heel as it bounces, knee tense the other leg silent juxtaposition (why can't you just sit still?) (you are not meant to move, to take up space, to be seen or heard or observed) (you are not meant—)

is it in my fingers? they can't stop tapping, frantic metronomes chasing a beat that doesn't (can't) exist and if not tapping then picking, scratching, searching searching searching pressing, digging searching, always searching scraping away, stretching, moving (why can't you just be still?) (why can't you stop? stop stop just stop—)

is it in my lungs? they're working okay now but sometimes they work too hard the in and out becomes in-and-out becomes inandoutandinandoutandinandinandin— (why are they trying to swallow the world whole?) (is it because the world keeps trying to swallow me—)

is it in my head? is it all in my fucking head? is it in the thoughts that race and race and race too fast for a keyboard to keep up with too fast to be anything of substance (am i anything of substance?) always running running running running can't stop won't stop don't stop please stop (i'm begging please let it stop) can't stop to think if your thoughts keep outrunning you (what are you outrunning? and why?) (the world keeps trying to swallow me—)

(but there is too much for the world to swallow, (there is too much inside me (the infinite worlds within (neurons and synapses and hopes and dreams and lungs and teeth and (i am always too full, too much— (too much too much too much too much (the world wants me to be less, it wants to swallow me—

maybe it lives in my stomach hungry, hungry always so fucking hungry (and the world so happy to feed it)

[painsandconfusion]

Whumpee has such vivid, horrid nightmares that they thrash in their sleep. They dream whumper is attacking them - that whumper found them in their home.

They should be calmed when they wake and realize it was a dream.

But all their thrashing left them with a myriad of quickly-forming bruises.

And they start to panic, believing whumper really was there.