#MAYBE LIKE. IF THE ABUSER IS MENTALLY ILL AND YEAH ABUSERS CAN BE MENTALLY ILL

[landscaping-your-mind]

There needs to be a shinigami eyes for websites and social medias that are like normal about people with personality disorders. Bc if I see one more website talk about narcissistic abuse like it’s a real thing, I’m going to lose it.

[mudstoneabyss]

actually. the specific phrasing that boy Kevin wants to kill older Kevin with "I must disassemble him, piece by piece, so that everything inside of the Old Kevin comes out. Only then can the New Kevin truly begin." is so incredibly the idea that to heal from trauma and "improve" you have to destroy every "wrong" part of yourself, that everything "tainted" by it has to somehow be replaced by something untouched (which isn't possible)

[voiceshearingyouloud]

Me when my life is trauma and mental illness all the way down but I am determined to make something good of it in the end

[snekdood]

i wanna know where ppl got this idea that im like infinitely praised or something so i need to be constantly humbled bc like... im kinda the only one out here supporting and validating me and I have been like my whole life so......

[hecksupremechips]

Had a very bad day Gotta eat gravel

[glitchdollmemoria]

actually. that post about how its important to have weird kinky queer friends. i think the same is true of really every type of ostracized person but in particular i wanna point it out wrt mentally ill people.

if you watch a movie villainizing DID or schizophrenia or something, and you think, "hey, this seems sort of like its based on what my friend has and theyre just a chill person, why are they making my friends condition seem threatening?" thats good.

if you see someone use narcissist as a synonym for abuser and you think, "what, no, im friends with someone who has NPD and i know theyre a kind person, this isnt true at all," thats good.

if you hear politicians try to frame addicts as violent criminals who should be locked up and you think "no, my buddy sam is just sick, their withdrawals are really painful and they dont have a good support system, they shouldnt be locked up for that," thats good.

being able to counter ableist rhetoric with "i know from experience thats not how these people are" is a good thing. like yeah obviously dont make friends with mentally ill people just for brownie points but also try to make the conscious effort to be open to friendship with people who have stigmatized mental health issues. and maybe even more importantly, be someone who makes it clear to others that youre safe to be open about these things with, because chances are youre ALREADY friends with mentally ill people even if you dont realize it, because a lot of us with more demonized conditions try to hide those conditions out of fear, and it helps a lot to know our friends are allies - and then we might feel safe discussing our experiences, IF we want to, and in turn that can help you better understand the realities and diversities of our situations and be less susceptible to ableist rhetoric.

[phagodyke]

man. getting a little sick of being everyones 15th option for everything. when is it my turn to be someone's first choice :^[

[theyluvlyss]

𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐥 & 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐲...

my head is all but consumed with thoughts only of wade wilson, logan howlett, and remy lebeau. they're all I can process in my head (besides shazam, but that's a given considering no one loves shazam the way I do, so🤷🏽‍♀️) and I y e a r n desperately for an influx in "wade x y/n x logan" fics and the "remy x y/n" fics... dare I even ask, humbly ofc, hear me out... for a splash of "wade x y/n x remy". genuinely, I'd kill for some of that ngl.

and I bet you're wondering, "lyssa, why not do it yourself🤔?"

short answer: I am swamped with requests, and even if I wasn't, I'm not ready yet lmao I fear I do not possess the skills to capture them in my writing perfectly😔 ... yet😈.

in the meantime, tho *😈evil little laughter😈* may I plz suggest the following prompts and pairings to and for anybody willing to work with them or wanting ideas (begging any writers that see this to please write these and tag me plz plz plz plz plz 😭🙏🏽😃plzplzplzplzplzplzplzpl-)...

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⚠️trigger and content warning btw lol -

mentions of fighting/violence/bloodshed, death, gore, (like c'mon,,, bffr, look at who you're reading about😐🤨), anxiety/panic attacks, harsh words/themes/elements/physical injuries, abuse and/or negelct, separation anxiety, mental disorders, brief mention of sickness/illness, drugs (just 🍃 and painkillers), age gap (nothing illegal, chill out🤨✋🏽), use of a derogatory term (not used in a negative sense tho lol), and some semi-common smut themes that I won't list here, but be wary if that stuff makes you uncomfortable :)♡. also, these are all under the pretense that the reader is a cis girl, she/her/hers pronouns (so ig you could think of this as one, big, mass request to all writers willing from me lol🤭🥴🫶🏽).

𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭/𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 :

- reader having a panic/anxiety attack and ofc being comforted (causes my vary; maybe right after a fight/battle, or because of over-worrying or too much pressure, maybe after a fight with another loved one, etcetc). definitely wanna see this with all three of them, but separately, tho. like, one fic or list of "preferences/headcannons" for logan, one for wade, and then one for remy.

- near death or death (followed by resurrection swift after). it could be reader almost dies or dies (then gets resurrected, get creative with it/how, fr, yk?) or the reverse; the POI (person of interest) dies, although given two of the three's abilities, y'all might have to get creative if you want it to translate for logan and/or wade so this one would be mainly for a remy x reader.

- I personally love a good "POI says sumn mean/outta pocket, hurts reader's feels, stuff happens idk, but they eventually kiss and make up" trope. I'd eat that up, especially cuz OHHH,,,, wade taking a joke or playful argument or something too far? logan being a little too mean/angsty to you for comfort?? remy saying something that gets lost in translation, so it comes out harsher than intended??? 😫😫😫‼️‼️ AND IF YOU WANNA GET MESSY WIT IT, RUNNING TO ONE OF THE OTHER THREE FOR COMFORT🙈🙈⁉️⁉️⁉️.

- a classic; reader getting injured (mildly or worse, doesn't matter), needing to be taken care of, but is stubborn about it?? always a good one.

- getting a little crazy and silly here, but I like a good "abusive and/or negelctful ex/current partner" trope. like hell yeah, one of you big, strong men get over here and save me, whisk me away and show me what I really deserve😻‼️. NOT romanticizing/glorifying it obvs, like no, I mean that wade, logan, and/or remy would not be the red flags in this scenario, they're the one(s) doing the saving FROM the red flag ex/current partner lol.

- getting a little crazier and sillier with this one, but one where reader gets snatched up🙂? oouuuu, miss girl got kidnapped?! once again, somebody come save me, and if "somebody" is not wade, logan, and/or remy, then don't bother, I don't want it. matter of fact, just gon' on ahead and leave me, I'll figure it out myself🙂✌🏽. I think I'd want these separate, actually, bc I wanna take in the individuality of their reactions, like,,, logan going feral?? pretty predictable tbh lmao but still hot. remy?? idek ngl, y'all gon' have to figure him out. BUT WADE BEING SERIOUS AND NOT AS TALKATIVE FOR ONCE UNTIL HE KNOWS YOU'RE SAFE???? OOOHOOHOOOOOOO, GIMMIE🖐🏽👹🖐🏽���🏽👹✊🏽!!!

- ig this could be put in the panic/anxiety attack category, but I also feel like this might be it's own separate thing, so idk, but... separation anxiety on reader's part. whatever the circumstances may be to breed it, reader is just (not in a unhealthy way) attached to the POI(s), so them leaving for whatever reason is pretty hard on her (and the POI(s), too, because hello, they don't wanna make their reader upset, but things gotta get done fr yk😫🥲),,, lots of reassurance, comforting, and maybe distractions ensue??

- reader with an alter ego/inner beast, whether that be a result of her powers or a mental disorder (think like,,, split personality or maybe DID or something like that, but I do wanna say, if you're gonna go the mental route, make sure you do your research so that you're representing it - not only accurately - but you're not dehumanizing or dumbing it down as well) or just anything that would cause the reader to, as I said, have a different side of themself,,, werewolf type deal, yk? "normal" for the most part, but then has her moments where she be on demon time and then when she's back to herself, she's just like "???" while everyone else is like "!!!". I suppose this could then be followed up/solved with a "the sun's getting real low" typa thing/moment from the POI(s), but that's neither here nor there, do what feels right fr♡.

- reader (just barely) escapes cassandra nova??? that could be cool (a.k.a. very, very angsty bc surely the encounter has messed the reader alllll the way up both mentally and physically, especially knowing what typa timing cass be on lmao😃). love a good hurt/comfort, I can't get enough, actually. this one (given the movie context) may or may not work with wolvie and/or pool (again, up to the writer to get creative), but gambit?? he's been in the void his whole life, he knows cass, sooo it'd make more sense for him to have a higher understanding of the situation in full, but do what y'all want, I'm just the idea woman🤷🏽‍♀️.

𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 :

- morning cuddles and softeness and ughghfhfhdjd♡!!♡!♡!!♡!♡!!♡!! and then the opposite, night/bedtime cuddles and softness and uugjfjdkwkfke♡!!♡!♡!!♡!♡!!♡!!

- height difference teasings and shenanigans. we can always stick to the classics, ofc, short reader, tall wade, logan, and/or remy. maybe its an advantage in fights - fast, lethal, and small + big, shielding, and strong - but sucks in more domestic/calm cases like reaching for shit on the top shelf or wanting to kiss somebody. but I'd also love some tall gworl reader type shit, miss strong, lean, runway model energy, stepping on any heads and wooing any men that are in her path🥴😻. bending down with a smile so she can hear him, mindlessly playing with his hair, occasionally makes a quip here and there on the difference without thinking lol and he haaaaateeees all of it (but he looooveeeessss all of it🤭).

- reader being THAT GIRL, literally being in a 1v26 or sumn crazy like that and she's just kicking ass and shit the whole time, and then there's the POI(s),,, gawking and in love like "damn that's MY GIRL fr\😻/!!".

- *imagine a vine boom after every bolded word, okay, go* teen/minor/young PLATONIC NONSEXUAL NONROMANTIC (literally I can not stress this enough) NOT DATING AT ALL EVER reader and one/two/all of them. I think it'd just be silly seeing them (wade, logan, and or remy) working/paired with/having a bond with this little gremlin yet sweetheart of a reader who's somehow able to tolerate/put up with/ignore/maybe even indulge in their craziness lmfao. maybe just as or is even more crazy than they are, chaotic and desensitized type shit. you could even get ansgty with it, have this teen reader need saving or something like that, yk?

- sparring match and reader BEATS POI(s) in said spar cuz she's cool, awesome, and mega baller like that. lots of tension and goofiness, especially from the reader, cuz she knows damn well she's the shit. or, a different route!!... total dumb luck that she beat him/both/all of them, and is very obviously playing it off/acting like she won on purpose lmfao, cockiness ensuing.

- can't go wrong with a sick-fic lol. who doesn't wanna be taken care of?

- reader needs/wears glasses🤷🏽‍♀️. it can be the discovery of actually needing them, reader always squinting tryna read/see shit, or nearly getting herself in and out of danger bc again, she blind lmao. or it's just the case of reader never wears them out and about, but in calmer moments (where she doesn't run the risk of breaking them) she'll put them on, so she decides to bust 'em out one day and it's just the POI(s) being like ":O...😻😻!!".

- *olivia rodrigo voice* JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY, YEAA-aAAH😫😫‼️ ... reader who just,,, she don't play that shit, man, lmfao it's called you can prove yourself either friend or foe,,, stay tf away from my man or get your ass beat. pick one. and it's the POI(s) just absolutely flattered and amused with this energy from reader lmfao, reassurance ensuing quick after ofc. or, if you wanna get silly with it (and by silly, I mean violent♡), reader with a girl who can't take a hint😀 *eye twitch* so she finally makes shit clear one way or another (one way; does sumn with the POI(s) that makes the girl uncomfortable so she fucks off. another; reader pretty much beats that girl up and it's the POI(s) laughing but also trying to pry reader off of her cuz "stop it, I'm yours, I promise, you don't have to kill her, she didn't know any better😭!"). or just completely switch it up, vice versa, role-reversal POI(s) get jelly and it's reader having to deal with whatever may happen after/due to the fact lol.

𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 :

- shameless flirt reader!!!! she's not obnoxious or out of character/proper timing with it, but definitely a reader with helllllaaaaa rizz. is mainly on some "is somebody gonna match my freak?" type shi. wade would find it very silly and he'd match the freak ofc. logan,,, maybe he'd start off annoyed by it, then get used to it, only realizing you've actually grown on him once you start to pull back a little/stop completely? REMY WOULD LOVE AND BE AMUSED BY IT, so all I'm gonna say here is this: rabbits🐇🥰. iykyk♡.

- a smoke sesh leading to some good, old fashioned high/sleepy sex🥰. that's it, that's the prompt♡.

- lord, free me from my sins🙏🏽, plz don't judge me y'all😔 ,,, age gap😃? NOTHING CRAZY, CHILL, but yk, like,,, just a little young thing in her 20s or sumn being scooped up by one (or two🤭) of these older, more mature, aged like fine wine, and experienced men,,, that's all🥰.

- that moment when reader is a whore and is actually literally prancing around without a care in the world, fucking three different guys (wade, logan, and remy obvs) because "they're hot lol" - not necessarily behind their backs - but no one's saying anything or telling her no, nor does anyone seem to have any issues with it/are opposed, sooo😗🤷🏽‍♀️.

- do y'all think,,, because wolverine is yk...wolf-like-ish-whatever.... do y'all think that he,,,, that maybe he goes thru... a rut🙂?? lmfaoGDHAKXKPQPRR okay that's enough, that's enough🥴✋🏽-.

- you know how some smut has certain labels/themes/tags that are gonna be, yk,,, in said smut?? well, cuz I'm out of any specific ideas for smut, I'm just gonna leave some here, m'kaaaay, and whatever y'all wanna dooooo is up to youuuu, just as long as I get to seeee😗☺️🫶🏽~...

⚠️ also don't say I didn't warn y'all, I mean, there's literally a whole ass trigger warning at the top, so do not start fckn trippin' because you disagree with me or saw sumn you don't fw, cuz tbh, I don't care and you can honestly block me if it's that serious♡.

dom-sub, daddy/praise/breeding/spanking kink, knife/gun/blood play (and/or just mutant/power ability play in general hehehe), food/wax play, cnc (I don't suggest full blown non-con seeing as none of them seem the type to do such, no matter the circumstances, plus it's just not my thing personally but hey, I'm not currently writing for pool, wolvie, or gambit rn, so that's up to whoever is🤷🏽‍♀️), hunter-prey (y'all might see this and immediately think wolvie, which is understandable fr, but I beg y'all to get creative and let remy and/or wade hunt reader down, it can be done and done right, I promise, plz, I need it, 😫PLEASE!!-), friends with benefits,,, OHHH ENEMIES with benefits🫢🫢!!, overstim, jealousy/possessive/yandere, unprotected/creampie/oral ... that's all that comes to mind lmao wow what a crazy note to end this on, anyways-

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yeah, so, do with all of this what you will (and plz spread this around, I genuinely do wanna see these get written and myself tagged like I am PINING for these fic ideas to be turned into reality😭🙏🏽), I just had to get my thoughts out before I forgot (at least in the fanfic department), because if someone were to ask me my thoughts on the movie itself !!!!! OMG I could run my mouth forever, but I don't wanna do that (lazy) so lmao for now, that's all lol byeeee~ /ᐠ-˕-マ!!

[lightningant]

There's a lot of fluff about how Harry shows no sign of trauma from his upbringing but maybe it's because I was neglected and often spoken of as extremely well-adjusted, but to me Harry seems to be a pretty natural response to a combination of neglect and a stable upbringing? He's not like. Traumatized. But a lot of people just develop maladaptive habits from these circumstances. Like:

Dissociative tendencies. I know this one is not intentional, but he shows constant lack of focus which interferes with his schooling and will often just space out and stare at things. This is used as a device to point the reader towards plot relevant items and turn them from irrelevant details, but it is something he does.

Harry does not actually distrust adults outright at first! He goes to teachers for help! But he tends to disrespect them, and struggles to think of adults as figures of authority the moment they slip up. Hagrid's bumbling chaos, Quirrell's nerves, Snape beefing with an 11-year-old, McGonagall not taking his Very Real Concerns seriously, Vernon's bluster, these are moments Harry discards their authority - that child thought McGonagall was going to burn him at the stake at first, but was barely shaken by her later. And it makes sense! You are a powerless child, you are looked down on, but the "consequences" you face are things you got used to and feel are normal, so you take strength from being unafraid of punishment.

A lot of fluff is made about abuse victims and independence because yeah, obviously, but I do think a lot of his savior/martyr complex is egged on by his servile role; he lived his entire life apart from the Dursleys, but they relied on him. To be crude, when someone shits the bed he puts it in the washer. And I do think he takes satisfaction in being the best man for the job, and I do think that can breed a whole host of mental problems that will lead you to a fated suicide duel with a Dark Lord

The books are mean-spirited in general, but he learned a lot of the fundamentals on engaging with the world from the Dursleys. He's pretty consistently petty and vindictive! And I genuinely believe Harry is, personally, as a character, fatphobic (in addition to the doylist text being fatphobic), because it was something Dudley gets criticized for and thus something that proves Dudley isn't infallible, and he would have definitely fixated on it and felt comfortable doing so, because that's just how the Dursleys talk about people.

For that matter, he is in general stifled by the inner lives of others - he's somehow the most socially stunted person in a trio with Hermoine in it. He is at all times deeply uncomfortable by the thought that other people have feelings and motivations, and reifies people with strong, clear roles in his life, and a lot of his development is realizing there are people behind those roles. I stand by the fact that Harry naming a child after Snape is a symptom of unaddressed mental illness.

This boy is so unbelievably susceptible to mania. I'll acknowledge a lot of his behaviour is teenage bull-headedness but the way the extremes of "I need to be doing something Now" and catastrophizing only gets worse...You know when he's 30 he's going to get prescribed mood stabilizers

And these are all things that can spiral into really toxic and self-destructive behaviour, which we know because that's what happens in the books. I think part of pushing his trauma in fanfiction is accepting that sometimes when someone is traumatized they develop an awful personality instead of PTSD.

(You may now reread this entire post and think about Tom Riddle.)

[glitter-stained]

Look, I'll say it: Zurr isn't a magical demon that took over Bruce's body, it's a vilifying, demonizing take on induced DID. I can't keep seeing people fight to defend Bruce's honour in Gotham War by saying "it wasn't actually him so it's not his fault", reject the Lazarus Pit Madness headcanon because "Jason and he alone did his crimes and he has no excuse", and then we're talking about how Bruce's or Dick's trauma is what made him a hero, one post later on my board it's "the lazarus pit madness headcanon is unnecessary because Jason's behaviour is completely explainable and logical if you just take in account that he has cptsd" (or bpd depending on the post) and then that fanfic I had to stop reading because a character literally was screaming at Jason "so what you died get over yourself but you weren't magically controlled by the pit so you have zero excuse and justification for being angry" and then a post about "wow why is Batman punching down on all these mentally ill people", and then in the replies "are you dumb it's because those crazies are bombing orphanages..."

I'm still thinking about that moment in "dumpster slasher" where Batman is like "the killer is still free while poor Elmore [a homeless guy with substance use disorder and major neurocognitive disorder] is being shipped off to Arkham... This doesn't sit right" yeah buddy I'm sure if you ponder that for a while, the reason why the fact the only mental health facility in your city is also a prison for dangerous criminals with no apparent mental illness doesn't sit right with you will appear to you eventually.

Maybe it's time to confront the fact that the difference between a hero and villain in dc is often whether their mental illness is demonized, glorified or minimized. Or the fact that attenuated circumstances and responsibility exists on a gradient and there is such thing as "altered responsibility due to mental illness" in a trial. Maybe it's not "oh it was this evil Zurr/Batman entity, not Bruce/Batman, so there is no responsibility to be taken and anyone condemning those actions as abuse is talking in bad faith" maybe it's "this is a terrible representation of something that exists and should be treated respectfully" and "I don't have to accept this terribly harmful rethoric and fucked up depiction into my conception of my fav's characterization in such a dislocated, often incoherent canon if I don't want to."

And also maybe it's "if we accept this event/depiction as canon it doesn't mean that we have to either bash the character completely or erase his mental illness into something vaguer/mystical that would somehow absolve him of his place in this situation".

And maybe it's "what does accountability for your harmful actions looks like when your judgement was heavily impaired by mental illness, and what judgement can be placed upon you and who decides where people are placed on that continuum of responsibility and how do we acknowledge and go forward into repairing things when severe harm/abuse was done under impaired judgement and also how do you reconcile all of this with your sense of self, (especially in conditions like bpd/cptsd and especially did where the sense of self is already so altered/complicated) with what your values are, what you want to be, what you are capable of doing and what you thought about yourself before the bad thing happened." I don't know any simple, correct, good answer, especially not a one size fits all. All I know is: the desire to be a good person, and be able to distinctively separate people between bad and good, is profoundly human and, at times when lines of responsibility get blurry, profoundly unhelpful. Most people who are going to hurt you aren't mentally ill. Most people who do terrible things aren't mentally ill, and sometimes people are mentally ill and hurt people and the two have nothing to do with eachother. But it is also a reality that sometimes judgement is impaired and behaviour is altered due to mental illness, and then you need to figure out where to go from there. Acknowledging this while also fighting stigmatisation is a complicated business. It's messy. Mental illness often is. I'm weary of any rethoric that pretends it's simple.

[chaotic-orphan]

Delirious Villain x Hero Caretaker (5)

Read part one here // Continued from here

Heed the TW (and mind yourselves please <3):

TW: emotional abuse, physical abuse, mental abuse, vomiting, forced vomiting, violence, elements of psychosis, psychosis episode-like symptoms, vulnerable whumpee, intimate whumper, older brother whumper, young sibling whumpee, gaslighting, manipulation, sick whump, sickness whump, illness whump, reuniting with whumper, PTSD, facing whumper who gave PTSD, bad family relationships,

~*~*~*~*~*~

Villain eyed Superhero wearily. Despite all their training, all their progress, Superhero had a height and weight advantage over Villain. His broad shoulders stood proud, supporting his stupid head, with his smirk that made Villain’s stomach crawl. They needed to get out of here, to get help.

They wouldn’t make it to the door in the condition they were in, so that was out of the question. His eyes flicked to the couch where he was asleep not a few minutes ago, which felt like a lifetime now. He couldn’t see his phone. He needed to call Hero, but maybe it was tangled in the blankets?

“I can see the cogs turning, Vil,” Superhero said with a happy sigh. “If you’re hoping that your precious Hero comes to save you in time, don’t. They’re too busy saving someone worth saving.”

“Shut up!” Villain growled, pushing at Superhero’s chest with their free hand. “Get off of me!”

Superhero chuckled, tsking and shaking his head at Villain’s outburst. Villain’s heart didn’t forget to beat after that, the guilt at his Brother’s disappointment didn’t still affect him. It didn’t.

“Where are your manners, Vil? Jeez, does Hero just let you run wild? That must be so annoying for them.”

“Hero loves me.”

Superhero leaned in, dark eyes glittering with malice. “Oh yeah? Then why aren’t they here looking after you?”

Villain’s face scrunched up. “Because you sent them away!”

“Or are they just so tired with you that they had to get out of the house for a while. It seems like the latter to me. God, I remember how annoying you were. Nobody, not even Hero has enough patience to handle you.”

“Hero loves me,” Villain said again, this time a little quieter.

“No. They don’t. They probably just feel sorry for you and how pathetic you are. Like a wounded baby bird whose wings are too weak to make it fly.”

“My life doesn’t concern you anymore! You don’t have to interact with me on a daily basis! Please let me go. Please, Brother, please.”

Superhero pressed a finger to his lips. “Shush. No begging yet, Vil. It’s unbecoming.”

Without warning, Superhero yanked Villain off the wall and was about to throw him to the floor when the pair froze. Villain’s ringtone played mutely from the bedroom. Villain’s eyes widened.

Hero.

Superhero recovered quicker than Villain, a cruel grin on his face as he started dragging Villain towards the bedroom. He got a hand on the back of Villain’s neck and shoved him down so Villain had to walk awkwardly bent over. Superhero opened the door to the bedroom and saw the phone lighting up on the bed.

He threw Villain to the ground beside the bed, laughing as Villain stumbled before he hit the floor with a groan, grabbing Villain’s phone off the bed.

“Aww, Vil. It’s Hero. Probably calling you to tell you that they’re leaving you.”

“Shut up,” Villain hissed, rubbing their hip that took the brunt of the impact.

Superhero turned Villain’s phone to Villain so they could see the picture of Hero laughing, ice-cream in hand, a dollop of mint chocolate chip on the tip of their nose.

“Cute,” Superhero said with a scoff, then put his finger in his mouth and mimed vomiting. Superhero waited for Hero to hang up before scrolling through Villain’s phone. Superhero raised their brows, glancing at Villain over the phone. “You seriously don’t have a passcode or something?”

“Don’t need it.”

Superhero scoffed, turning his attention back to the phone. Villain moved to get to their feet when Superhero’s stare snapped to them. “Don’t move or I’ll kill Hero.”

That froze Villain in their movements, their heart hitching at Superhero’s easy threat. Superhero didn’t seem too bothered by it and soon his face split into a wide smile.

“Aww, look Vil. Hero text: Superhero,” Superhero paused, grinning down at Villain pointing to himself. “That’s me.” Then went back to reading. “Superhero said that he was short staffed, and sent me to West-point so I will be home later than usual. Sorry for leaving you again, there’s soup in the freezer if you feel up to it. I love you. xx.”

Villain tightened their hands into fists by their sides, clenching their jaw against every word that Superhero read. Hero was going to be home later than normal? West-point, that was at least an hour by metro from here and who knows when they’d get home… especially because—

Villain raised their gaze to Superhero who was grinning above them. “You weren’t short-staffed, were you?”

“Of course not,” Superhero said with a smirk. “I just had to get Hero away from you for a while. Hell, even Other Hero and Sidekick should’ve gone to central hospital but I asked for them to be transferred to West-point so we could have some long overdue family time.”

Superhero tapped on Villain’s phone a little longer and grinned after locking the screen, pocketing the phone in his back-pocket. “Just in case you get any ideas.”

Villain glared at him from the ground, a sudden overwhelming helplessness returning to him that he hadn’t felt since he was a kid. Since he moved out of his family home. Now it came back with a viciousness that threatened to drown him and left him clawing against it just to keep his head above the water and his breathing even.

“Now,” Superhero said, inspecting Villain with his piercing gaze. “What to do with you.”

“Just leave,” Villain tried. “Please. I don’t— I’m not apart of your life anymore. You don’t— you don’t have to do this.”

“Vil, Vil, Vil,” Superhero sighed walking towards Villain. “Family doesn’t quit on each other. They never give up on you. I know I don’t have to try and fix you, the truth is I never did. I just wanted what was best for you.”

“Yeah right! You just wanted what was best for you! Can’t have your little brother embarrass you in public!”

Superhero, to Villain’s surprise, softened at that. Villain didn’t trust it for a second.

“You’re right,” Superhero said with a breath. “I was so worried about what kind of shame or embarrassment you would bring on me. I didn’t want people associating failure with us.”

Superhero crouched in front of Villain, tilting his head to the side. A strange smile on his lips, that Villain couldn’t quite discern. It looked whimsical and yet sad, wait— was that a genuine smile? No. It couldn’t be.

“It’s because I saw our potential, Villain,” Superhero said with a scoff. “Y’know, it’s stupid, but when I worked so hard to be Superhero, to become the best and bring prestige to our family name… well, I pushed you hard too because I always imagined that it would be something that we’d do together. Something we’d achieve together. The best brother Superhero duo in history.”

Villain’s heart cracked a little, a swarm of guilt spilling out like a leak in a dam, constricting his chest. Villain longed to reach out, to close the distance between them to apologise for not being able to live up to Superhero’s expectations.

To tell him that Villain tried. He really fucking tried, but Superhero was always stronger, faster, better than he was and he couldn’t be the same.

He didn’t though. He tightened his hands into fists and stared at Superhero who looked six feet deep in fond memories and regrets.

“I’m sorry, Vil.”

It felt as if time stopped. As if the Earth stopped turning, and the world stood frozen. The moment right before a car crash, or something inevitable happening; the cusp that hides between moments like a trapdoor spider, waiting until you lowered your guard before attacking and killing you.

Villain’s voice was a whisper: “what?”

Superhero swallowed, forcing himself to meet Villain’s gaze. “I’m sorry, Villain.”

There was no joke or humour in Superhero’s face as he said that, again. Apologised? Again! But— but— Villain’s brain was fried from their flu because this must be another trick? Another hallucination. Superhero being sorry for something? Feeling remorse?

“I’m sorry about what happened on the outside, how people perceived us, what you said and did outside the house that I didn’t even think about how it all must’ve effected you. I’m sorry that I wasted all that time trying to correct your behaviour outside the house when really,” Superhero’s hand shot out like a viper to grab Villain by the throat, slamming him back against the wall. “Really I should’ve focused more on your manners and knowing your fucking place.”

Superhero stood, bringing Villain with him and threw him across the room. Villain tried to catch themselves before their face hit the wall by throwing their hands out, but they landed awkwardly on their wrist and the pain ricocheted down their arm. Villain hissed, retracting their arm but they didn’t have time to react before a hand was in their hair and bashing their skull against the wall.

Once. Twice. Three times.

Villain went dumb from the impact, their brain struggling to comprehend what was happening, but the pain. They felt the pain spread like wildfire through their skull.

The hand in their hair tightened and Villain cried out as they were dragged across the bedroom, back towards the kitchen. They tried to gain purchase on the ground with their knees, but Superhero was moving too fast for them to keep up.

Superhero paused two feet from the doorway. Villain didn’t know why, they just slumped to the ground like a dog in shade during a heatwave. They just needed to catch their breath. Or pass out. Either was a good option.

Superhero didn’t seem to think so. He lifted his hand suddenly, dragging Villain’s head up to look Villain in the eye. Villain hissed, hands clawing at the strong grip on his hair. Superhero grabbed Villain by the throat, slamming his head back into the wall.

Villain groaned at the impact, moving his hands to try and dislodge Superhero’s hand from his throat. “God. You really are pathetic, aren’t you? Did I not teach you anything?”

Superhero stepped back, dropping all contact from Villain who struggled not to slump down the wall to the floor.

Superhero took two steps back, running a hand down his face, pinning Villain to the wall with a harsh glare. Villain’s entire body was trembling at them, struggling to keep themselves up in case they needed to bolt. But Superhero’s eyes caught every tremor, every flinch or wince.

“You’re still fucking ruining everything. It’s all you ever do, isn’t it?”

“Fuck off.”

“You really don’t know, do you? You make people weak, Villain.” Villain froze at the emotion colouring Superhero’s voice. “You make people weak, because they feel like they need to look after you, or take care of you. For fuck’s sake, you can barely stand by your-fucking-self! You needed Hero to take days off of work to mind you while you were sick, like some fucking child! Do you know how embarrassing that is!”

“My life doesn’t concern you anymore,” Villain spat, tears pinpricking their eyes.

Superhero scoffed. “Doesn’t concern me?”

Superhero studied Villain’s face, the wince after Superhero spoke. Then recognition flashed on his face, putting two and two together.

“You didn’t tell Hero that we’re related,” Superhero said, tilting his head to the side, a smile gracing his lips at Villain’s silence. “Oh that is… that is hilarious. The person you love the most? You’re keeping secrets from them?”

“We are not related,” Villain said, their voice coming out stronger than they felt in that moment. “You are nothing to me. I left you and Mom, and Dad. I left. I made a life for myself, a life where I’m loved by somebody. Why can’t you be happy for me?”

“What, you think Hero actually loves you?”

Villain flinched at the words. “Oh you do, don’t you?” Superhero cooed, walking towards Villain again and grabbing their face in his hands. “Oh. You poor fucking idiot. You have no idea how much Hero hates you, do you?”

Villain’s eyes glistened with tears. Superhero slammed Villain’s head back into the wall.

“Do you?”

“Just leave… leave me alone,” Villain begged, tears finally spilling over his eyes. “Please.”

Villain’s hand reached up and curled his fingers around Superhero’s wrist, weakly tugging at it.

“I can make them love you again,” Superhero whispered. “I know how. I can make you worth something in their eyes, isn’t that what you want?”

Villain sniffled, nodding. Superhero cooed, brushing the sweaty hair back from Villain’s face. “I know. I know you’re scared, but big bro’s here now, hmmm? Come on.”

Superhero pulled Villain away from the wall gently, taking Villain’s wrist in his hand. “Come on.”

“Where are we—” Villain asked, their voice hitching, wiping away their tears with the sleeve of their shirt. “Where’re we going?”

Villain’s mind only registered they were walking towards the bathroom when Superhero opened the door. Then they started pulling against Superhero’s hold.

“No! No, no, no, no, no!” Villain cried, going limp and yanking backwards. Superhero dropped Villain, cursing at them for the sudden weight. Villain took the opportunity to roll onto their stomach, pushing themselves to their hands and knees and rushing forwards. They threw themselves to their feet, stumbling slightly, almost rolling on their ankles but they were standing. They bolted for the door to the bedroom, slamming their shoulder into the doorframe as they propelled themselves out and towards the front door.

A hand caught the back of their shirt and Villain cried out. They were yanked backwards, their head slamming off the doorframe to the bedroom. Villain fell like a sack of bricks and Superhero let them.

Villain blinked up bleary-eyed at the ceiling, the world swimming in a whirlwind of colour. Two Superhero’s appeared above Villain, shaking their heads, as if they were disappointed parents looking down on an unruly child.

“Look at what you did,” Superhero said, the words coming in and out of focus like pulses. He leaned down, crouched above Villain. Then a hand passed over his face and Villain’s head whipped to the side. They whimpered. “Ah. There you are,” Superhero said, only one of him now. “Still with me, Vil.”

Another slap and Villain whimpered, weakly pushing their hand against Superhero’s. Superhero easily batted it away, opting to instead pinch Villain’s cheeks between their thumb and forefinger and dig their fingers in until Villain’s mouth formed an O and they cried out.

“Listen runt, I didn’t want to hurt you! Don’t you see? I’m trying to help you. You’ve clearly let yourself go since the last time I saw you, and nobody, not even Saint Hero will love you if you’re fat and disgusting. You want to be worth Hero’s love, don’t you?”

Tears welled behind Villain’s eyes and they tried to turn their head away, not wanting to face Superhero and the truth in his words. Superhero didn’t even let Villain flinch in any direction before his grip tightened.

“Don’t you want to be someone worthy of love?” Superhero asked, his voice imperceptibly soft. Villain let out a pathetic yes, their voice muffled by Superhero’s hold on their face. Superhero’s features smoothed out and he nodded sympathetically. “I know. Come on, let’s get you up. I’m just trying to help you be worthy of Hero.”

Superhero helped Villain to sit up, openly crying now. Superhero nodded his head compassionately. “I know. I know. Shh. It’s okay. Big bro’s here now. He’s going to make everything better. Ssh. Don’t worry. Come on, runt.”

Superhero helped the wailing Villain to their feet, guiding them towards the bathroom again. Villain, resigned, followed along because they didn’t want to get hit again. They didn’t want to try and fight back and get beaten again. They didn’t want to be ugly for Hero, they wanted to be worthy of them. Hero was brilliant, perfect, why would they settle for anything less than that? God, Superhero was right.

Superhero gently pushes Villain to their knees, and tells them to: “open up.”

Villain felt the familiar fear creep back up their spine, making their hair stand on end. They shook their head, making to stand up but Superhero kept a hand on Villain’s shoulder, keeping them in place.

“Come on. You said you wanted to be worthy of Hero, right?”

Villain deflated. A part of them wanted to be perfect, to listen to Superhero and just give in, save themselves the pain. The other part was screaming at them, telling them they were worth more than this. That they hated this, and that Hero loved them no matter what. Strangely the voice telling them to fight sounded an awful lot like Hero’s.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to do anything. I’ll do it all, remember?” Superhero coaxed, his fingers tracing Villain’s jaw and resting at their bottom lip. “Come on, Villain.”

Villain didn’t protest, but they didn’t fight Superhero either, so when his fingers pushed past Villain’s lips, Villain didn’t move. Only when they went far, hitting Villain’s gag reflex did Villain start fighting him.

They shot up from their knees on instinct, but Superhero’s hold kept them down, his other hand going to the back or Villain’s hair and pulling it, yanking their head back so he could shove his fingers down further.

Villain whined, shaking their head. They didn’t want this, they didn’t want this! Villain felt bile climbing his throat and he jerked forward, but Superhero didn’t move his fingers and they hit the back of Villain’s tongue. Villain felt the warmth climbing his throat, gripping the toilet seat and ready to vomit.

Superhero pulled his fingers out at the last second, and Villain heaved. It was only bile that came out, green-hued see through slime, because Villain hadn’t eaten in days.

Superhero clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Hmm. That won’t do. We’ll go again.”

Before Villain could protest, Superhero’s fingers were in his mouth again, unmerciful as they shot to the back of Villain’s throat. Villain grabbed Superhero’s wrist, pulling his fingers out. “Don’t fight me, Vil. We agreed.”

Superhero’s fingers hit Villain’s throat again, and they felt the muscles in their neck contracting as another wave of nausea hit them. Panicking and wanting Superhero to just let them go, Villain clamped their jaw around Superhero’s hand.

Superhero yelped, then roared and yanked their hand out of Villain’s jaw. “I’m—” Villain gasped, but Superhero cut them off with a punch to the face. Villain’s head veered down, hitting off the edge of the ceramic toilet bowl with a dull thump.

A hand in their hair and their head was wrenched back. Superhero’s fist flashed in the corner of their eye, and struck the same place in their jaw, keeping them straight.

“I thought we agreed that I—” punch. “Know” punch. “Better.” A sharp slap deafened Villain as Superhero released them again, their head snapping to the side. “I don’t want to hurt you, but you force me to, Vil. I hate to see you like this, but as your older brother I’ll do what I have to do, to make you a better person.”

A sharp kick to the stomach, once, twice, three times and Villain lurched forward, crying out and swallowing hard to keep the rush of liquid crawling like a tidal wave up their throat. Superhero grabbed Villain by the throat. Leaning his face in closer to them.

“Come on, Vil,” Superhero said sweetly. “You want to look your best for Hero, don't you? You want to deserve them, right?”

“Pl—please,” Villain stammered, choking on Superhero’s tight grip. “Just lemme— go.”

“Stop fighting me, runt, I'm just trying to look out for you.”

Superhero pinched Villain’s jaw between his thumb and index finger, his nails digging into their cheeks, drawing blood, and forcing their mouth open. His fingers found the back of Villain’s throat, pressing down on Villain’s gag reflex.

Villain felt the muscles in his throat tighten, the bile burning acidic up their throat and they lunged forward, Superhero withdrew his hand from Villain’s mouth, but kept pinching their cheeks so Villain couldn’t swallow. Only when he was satisfied that Villain was about to hurl did he let go, grinning down as Villain spewed into the toilet.

A lot more than last time, their stomach ached as they vomited. A momentary pause and then another bout reared its head and tears streamed down their face, sobbing as they let the feeling run its course out of them.

Superhero patted Villain’s hair like a dog. “Good, see. You did so good.”

“What are you doing?”

Villain froze at the voice. Superhero’s hand stopped rubbing Villain’s hair, but he didn’t remove it from Villain’s head. Hero rushed in, going to Villain’s side and get grabbing their face in their hands, thumbing away the tears.

“Villain, shhh. Shhh, it’s okay.” Hero cooed. Villain sobbed against Hero’s hands, the gentle touches. They weren’t worthy of this kindness. They didn’t deserve Hero’s caring love. This was pity. They pitied Villain, that’s why they looked so caring in that moment. Not out of love. Why was Villain so weak to melt at the kindness, they should be worthy of them! Hero shouldn’t have to see Villain like this. “I’m here now. It’s okay.”

Hero glanced back at Superhero, eyes narrowed into a glare. “What are you doing here?!”

“I knew you would be away for a while today, Hero. And I knew you would be worried sick about your ill partner so I thought I would come and look after them for you.”

Hero’s eyes found Villain’s, searching, scanning for any sign that Superhero was lying. Villain was skittish and heaving, not meeting Hero’s eyes. There was something wrong, was it just vomiting? Being sick? No, this was different. Villain was incoherent and violent last time, now they were just… subdued and lifeless and terrified.

“You stepped over the line, Superhero,” Hero said firmly, eyes burning down at their lover. “Please wait in the living room while I help them to bed.”

Superhero’s eyes met Villain’s over Hero’s shoulder, a sadistic smile on his lips. He brought a finger to his lips and pointed down at Hero. Then drew a line across his throat and mimicked Hero being killed.

“Of course, Hero,” Superhero said easily, while Villain’s trembles intensified. Hero waited until Superhero had walked out the door before looking back at Villain.

“Vil, oh my god, I’m so sorry. Are you okay? I’m so sorry, I should have never left you.”

They’re just saying that because you’re weak, Villain thought.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t ask Superhero to come. I didn’t know they would do something as crazy as this!”

They’re tired of you. They don’t love you, if they did they would have never left. You’re exhausting, you wear people out.

“Come on, Vil. Talk to me.” Hero said, leaning forward and pressing their forehead against Villain’s. Villain could feel Hero’s warm breath fanning against their face. They weren’t even worthy of this. “Shhh. Vil, it’s okay. I’m here now and I’m not leaving.”

When Hero wrapped their arms around Villain, Villain couldn’t hold it together anymore and they broke down into sobs that wracked their entire body. Their fingers turned to claws in Hero’s shirt, bunching it and holding on and not wanting to let go.

They were weak, they were so weak that they made the people they loved weak for them. It bled through from Villain into them, and now they were breaking Hero’s heart. They didn’t deserve Hero’s heart. They didn’t deserve any of this comfort and warmth and love.

Hero held them tightly and kissed their hair and cheek and anything their lips could reach, whispering reassurances and telling them that they loved them.

When Villain’s sobs had calmed down to mere whimpers and sniffles, Hero moved them, putting one hand under their legs and the other under their shoulders and lifted them like they were a baby. Villain curled into Hero’s embrace, a deep red blush filling their face with warmth.

Hero shouldn’t have to do this, to be the strong one. Villain was the strong one! God what happened to them?! Why couldn’t they just be perfect for Hero?

Hero put them into bed, lying beside them under the covers. They tilted Villain’s head down to lie on top of Hero’s chest, hearing their heartbeat. They were a tangle of limbs.

“What about,” Villain sniffed, “Superhero?”

Hero’s eyes darkened. “Let him wait. You’re my priority, Villain. You always will be. Never forget that.”

Villain sniffed, fresh tears streaming down their cheeks. “I love you Hero.” They said even though it broke their heart to say that. Weak! So weak!

“I love you more than you’ll ever know,” Hero whispered into Villain’s hair, kissing the top of their head.

*~*~*~*~*

[purpledemonlilyposting]

Oh boy do we have some Lorching today!

You can see the rest of the post below the cut but I wanted to emphasize this. Yeah saying retard sure makes you an ableist piece of shit but saying "I look down on junkies" doesn't. Isn't that interesting.

Nevermind that a crippling drug addiction doesn't come out of nowhere. There's typically mental illness involved, trauma, a lack of support system, a lack of access to proper treatment and maybe even a lack of education to recognize one's issues and know how to seek that treatment. "Junkies" are a failure of society. Calling someone a "junkie" dehumanizes them. It's the same way people unperson the homeless in their minds, Lily. Weren't you supposedly homeless once? Maybe think about that.

Meanwhile you sound like a conservative blowhard going on about "personal responsibility" who has never even attempted to put yourself in someone else's shoes ever.

But of course Lily is saying anyone who does any drug harder than tobacco is automatically abusive. I'd say this is an attempt at saying she can't be an abuser cause she doesn't use mind altering substances (like she tries to paint the narrative that she can't be an abuser cause she's a victim) but Lily weren't you just saying the doctors have you on opiates and they're "heavenly"?

She's back on being a boomer about cannabis now. Even though it's been fully legal in Canada since 2018. It's just cause your sister and I both openly smoke weed, isn't it Lily? And we bonded over smoking weed and shit talking you on Goddamnit Malcolm's stream.

[Lily's Post 1]

[gingerhastoomanyobsessions]

random thing but. I think part of the cultural migration that vampires have made from unsympathetic to sympathetic has to do with modern awareness of the many, many ways one can harm others without even trying

like. this is just me rambling cause my brain is in the Vortex but. it’s the guilt, right? it’s the guilt. so so so many people feel guilty for just existing, because by just existing we are complicit in harm. existing as a human being in a modern industrialized culture harms the earth. existing as a majority demographic group harms those in minority demographic groups. every single thing some of us touch is built on bones

phones and cheaply made goods (ie most goods) are products of slave labor and resource exploitation. food is grown in ways that harm the environment. food that used to be animals? almost all of it is from animals that suffered. we are all prolonging our lives via the consumption of animals, the difference is that most of us aren’t killing them ourselves. vegans aren’t exempt; farms are all too often staffed by abused workers, some of whom are literally enslaved. countless -isms are ingrained into our brains and we perpetuate them often without realizing.

and on a more personal level, we have all become hypervigilant towards toxicity and manipulation and all of the ways that we can hurt the people we love completely accidentally. yah, a lot of people direct this blame at others, but who hasn’t quietly freaked out about it like. what if everyone I know would be better off if they had never met me. what if I am parasitizing them by existing. feeding on them emotionally. what if there’s no other way to exist. what if I can’t stop. what if that’s just what I’m made of

and that’s vampirism! vampirism is, to some degree, about parasitizing the world around you and being unable to exist any other way. some vampires can mitigate it— feeding off of animals or willing donors— but they’re still feeding on the life force of others. harm can be lessened but never undone.

maybe I’m just being mentally ill about it, but I can’t be the only person who relates to vampires out of fear of being a parasite. burdening others with my existence. i don’t think I’m alone. so we’re being more sympathetic to vampires in the modern day, because we have to be, right? if you look at the monster and you see your own traits in it, then what does it mean about you if the monster has to be destroyed? so modern vampires can feel guilt, even if the older source-material vamps didn’t, because the wider culture has started to align itself with monster more than with victim. the monsters feel guilty and they try to mitigate their harm and they try not to hurt the people around them. because that’s all any of us can do, yeah?

[five-thousand-loaves-of-bread]

EMG normal, not done w tests but expect those be normal n even if not, it not explain things

which. normal EMG good thing, yea. have some scary ones on own ddx that this rule out.

people be relief n happy for me n expect me feel same but. don’t have time feel that because all that feel is dread.

dread because this my frail weak last mental defense against trauma & gaslighting & internalized gaslighting “there nothing wrong” “you want something wrong” “you just crazy (derogatory).” last thing keeping me going n trying.

dread that this will (& already has) be use against me. parents already imagine future where “am” in it but am not actually in—a year three years five years later, able bodied walking talking n living independent n “finally happy.” parents encouraged to force me walk use wheelchair less speak more. as someone already with no escape from them because still severely disabled with symptoms & high support needs even if no diagnosis (some diagnosis), who already feel trapped & suffocated & hopeless with no future or escape here before this. worry life going get so much worse.

they don’t understand autism here. don’t understand stereotypical autism don’t understand not-stereotypical autism it all same coin. here see self as ultra in “not-stereotypical autism” category because autism regression include nonverbal late in life. be diagnosed by top autism place in US not matter. it didn’t it doesn’t & it won’t. for people not born nonverbal they see two option: physical muscle or vocal cord issue or psychosomatic mental illness but derogatory. its “real” in sense they supposed say that but its not real. fact that am actually mentally ill just support that more.

wheelchair bad. nonverbal bad. AAC tablet bad. no one can imagine happy life with them except me.

n no one can understand or even try to understand that those actually not what make my life utterly miserable: not have support needs met, not have communication support needs met (give me enviroment that actually feel safe use AAC then maybe will actually communicate more goddamn it), be trapped physically, be trapped mentally by past abuse with people who did that to me who currently doing that to me, have NO COMMUNITY n that there never ever ever will be any community here in person for me so long as stay here. with no end in sight. unless make one for myself. which—too fucking disabled to do that except [redacted]. which. even that, am too severely disabled thus surveillanced to do that.

not to mention those actually one of very few thing in my life give me joy right now (other joy is fiber arts. ok end of list. everything else even stuff used to enjoy is fucking chore. n even fiber arts becoming more of past time & routine than active joy)—it the only fucking thing that giving me any sort of hint of community right now (n also literally allow me do basic function in life like go places but. DIGRESS). even if it fucking small & pathetic & ironically isolating (bc my god the ableism against us. but without community will just be pathetic & isolated ALL ALONE). to advocate take it away, it incredibly cruel.

everyone expect me be able bodied neurotypical walking talking live independent n it that my personal failure not able do that because there “no medical reason” (…still have life long diagnoses but those not good enough real enough for them), faker. n just lost last mental defense against that. so yeah guess am.

dread too for what doctor going say n recommend after all this. honestly more preferable discharge me & let me go back to old life tbh.

in perfect world there be symptom management with no diagnoses & no definitive test results, that focus on work with what got, when it unrealistic or not fucking worth it try turn life upside down make “back” into “normal.” but. mm such thing not exist.

want be treat with dignity & respect & believed & agency even when don’t know what wrong & negative tests.

[ametrictonofaudacity]

Gaps 2

Platonic Yandere Batfam x Mentally Ill/Forgetful Reader

Warning: This work is a yandere work, hopefully part of a series, as as such will contain themes of manipulation, abuse, violence and obsession. This specific work contains drugging. Stay safe, and enjoy!!

“(Y/N), maybe you should stay at the Manor for the night. It’s coming down pretty hard out there.” Bruce comments, passing you a warm mug. You curl your fingers around the mug, enjoying the heat seeping into your hands, and glance outside. It was pouring, yeah, but nothing beyond what was standard for Gotham.

“Bruce, I’ve driven in this sort of weather hundreds of times.” You point out, even as you curl up on the soft couch. The large man sits next to you, a touch too close for your comfort, and takes a sip from his own mug. The bitter smell makes your nose wrinkle, and you glance at the cup of black coffee. You much preferred your hot chocolate.

“Still. I’d rather you not have to. Just for the night? Alfred can drop you off at work, if you need him too.” Bruce cajoles gently. He turns on the TV, to some drama or soap opera you don’t recognize, and you sigh, taking a sip of your hot chocolate.

There’s a strange aftertaste you can’t quite place. You wonder if Alfred changed the recipe.

“Bruce, please. Let’s not do this.” You plead, absolutely exhausted. Emotionally and mentally. You adored the Wayne’s, you really did, but they tended to treat you like you were younger than you were, constantly hovering and fretting. “I know you worry but I need you to trust me.”

He doesn’t respond for a bit, and when he does, he leans forward, eyes fixed on the crackling fire.

“It’s not you I don’t trust, (Y/N). You know that.”

You take another gulp of hot chocolate, hoping the sweetness will wash down the bitter words coming to your mouth, but you let the man continue. The fire casts his face into something intense, something almost other, and you watch as the shadows seemingly twist and dance around him.

“I just… everyone in the family worries, (Y/N). You’re very important to all of us, and we worry that something might happen to you when you’re away. Especially with how much you struggle with your memory.”

You lick your lips, waiting patiently for him to continue. When you realize he’s waiting on a response, you word your sentence carefully, even though they’re heavy in your mouth and make your lips tingle.

“That’s not.. that not y’all’s job. You don’t have to worry about me. Not that I don’t appreciate it, it’s just…”

It’s just that they’re stepping over your boundaries. It’s just that they’re stomping all over them, walking all over them gleefully. You preferred to keep people at a distance, preferred solitude, but the Wayne’s had already wiggled their way into your heart with ease. You didn’t mind that, but you did mind how they seemed determined to take care of you when you didn’t need to be taken care of.

“(Y/N), I know you aren’t used to being taken care of. I understand that. Just let us help you. Even if it’s something as simple as picking up medication, or helping you find an item. You don’t have to rely entirely on yourself anymore.” Bruce is almost fervent when he says this, leaning forward towards you, and there is a warm, earnest expression on his face. It’s not Brucie, his public persona, but the intensity of it steals the breath from your lungs and makes your chest tighten.

Your fingers buzz, and you take a sip of your cocoa, realizing you had forgotten to take your anxiety meds.

Maybe that’s why you were so put off by all this. Maybe the wires in your head were too crossed, too tangled, for you to understand genuine care versus smothering. Maybe Bruce really did just want to help.

“I’ll let you guys help.” You finally decide, and his shoulders unwind, before he reaches forward.

You aren’t sure what you expect, but the hand gently ruffling your hair isn’t it. You blink as the man stands, picking up his cup.

“Thank you, (Y/N). I mean it. Are you finished with your..?”

“Oh, ah, hold on.” You quickly chug the rest of the unfinished drink, because far be it for you to waste Alfred’s cocoa, and pass him the mug, wiping the foam from your lip.

“Be right back.”

The TV drones on when he comes back, and there’s a blanket in his hands, which he wraps around you. You don’t mind. The warmth is pleasant, seeping into your bones which are rapidly getting looser, and you sigh, burying your face into the soft faux fur.

Bruce sits down. He’s closer than he was before, radiating heat, and you grumble when your body falls against his thanks to the shifting weight. He doesn’t move you, instead wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

You’re not sure how to react. It’s warm and it’s nice and good, but part of you reels against being causally held like a small child.

You decide to let it continue, if only because you were too tired to care.

“Bruce?” The word is barely understandable, slurred, and you frown. That wasn’t quite right.

“Mm?”

“I think-“ You yawn, jaw popping loudly. “I think Alfred is gonna have to drop me off tomorrow.”

“Thats alright. You just get some rest, okay?” He soothes, and you nod, feeling him adjust the blankets around you.

You sink into oblivion like that, warm and safe and heavy.

[frvnkcastles]

I feel shithouse for asking since I'm not a girlie, bur I was! Trans guy here but honestly a trauma ex girlie!

Can I request something with a reader (doesn't matter the pronouns if you feel more comfy writing she/her that's chill!) Where the reader is asked to come to Christmas with their family, and frank is a plus one bur you're worried as your family are alcoholics (starting drinking at like 10 til late) and the reader is trying to cut down but their family is really pushy and feels like they're gonna fall back into bad patterns and Frank pulls them away for an hour just talking and smoking a cigarette as the readers the only dart smoker in the family as they've all transitioned to vaping?

(Maybe just mother, brother, sister in law and reader +frank, and possibly the radio keeps turning on and off and the family calling out readers grandparents in the afterlife as the cause v much jokingly?)

YOU’RE THE ONLY PLACE THAT FEELS LIKE HOME ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: When you have to deal with your alcoholic family, Frank is there to support you.

Warnings: Alcoholism, implied past abuse, mention of deceased grandparents, reader smokes, language, gender neutral reader

Word count: 1.7k

Author’s note: Anon, don’t feel bad at all!! This is a safe space for everyone no matter what and you’re 100% welcome here. I do wish more of my fics were gender neutral but often my ideas come from my own experiences as a mentally ill/traumatized woman and when I get requests, they usually mention she/her pronouns. That said, while I don’t really know how to write from the perspective of a man, I have no problem writing a gender neutral reader if it’s specified. Also, I am very sorry you had to wait such a long time for this, I hope you like it!! Sending you lots of love <3

When your family invited you to spend the holidays with them, you instinctively knew you were in for an uncomfortable time. Since you had moved out, you had tried to keep your distance and unlearn the bad habits that you had developed at home — like drinking. That was your first and foremost concern, having to witness their drunken behavior and how the situation would most likely escalate sooner or later, as it always did. You had done a great job of cutting down but you feared that being back in their company would force you to undo all your progress.

The one good thing about the whole thing was that they didn’t protest you bringing Frank along. He made most shitty situations better just by being present, and you instantly felt heard and comforted when he agreed to come with you. Frankly, he was opposed to the mere thought of letting you go alone, knowing all about your complicated family history and therefore determined to support you through every encounter.

”Y’know you’re allowed to decline, yeah? Don’t wanna see you puttin’ yourself through shit just ’cause they’re askin’”, he reminded as you were getting ready to leave for your mother’s house. Pulling on his jacket, he eyed you, looking for any hint of hesitation on your face, but you were doing a good job at putting up a brave front. You wanted to keep the peace, and admittedly, a little bit of you missed your family and ached to spend time with them, even if you knew it probably wouldn’t end well.

”Thanks, Frankie. It’s okay, I want to go. Just… need you by my side”, you sighed, and nodding, Frank stepped over to you to press a kiss on your temple, brief but full of emotion.

”You got me, darlin’. I ain’t goin’ anywhere”, he assured before taking your hand and steering you out the door.

He encouraged you to take deep breaths during the drive over, noticing with ease how anxiety was starting to manifest in your bouncing leg and chewed bottom lip. You tried to take Frank’s advice and keep yourself calm, but as soon as you arrived at the house, you came to the conclusion the night was already becoming more intense than you had anticipated.

There was a haze of drunken stupor in the air and loud chatter filled every room, tipping almost over to downright shouting. Bottles and cans littered the tables and the realization that everyone was already drunk unsettled you, making you swallow hard as you reached for Frank’s hand. He squeezed tight, unwavering as he stood next to you.

”Finally! Took you long enough”, your brother noticed you standing by the door, and he rushed to you, shoving a bottle of beer into your hands. You shook your head and handed it back over to him, which earned a scoff from me. ”What, you too good for us now?” he mocked, but he didn’t linger to hear your response, just stomped back to the dining room where your mother was setting up dinner.

You glanced at Frank, and he directed an affirming nod at you, giving you the strength and will to walk to the dining table with him right behind you. You exchanged greetings with your mother who was clearly tipsy at the very least, and your attempts to make conversation went unheard and unnoticed. You supposed it was a good thing — they weren’t actively picking fights with you, at least.

Frank, ever the gentleman, helped bring in all the food and the plates, with the same goal as you: keeping the peace. He wasn’t interested in befriending your family because of all the trauma they had bestowed upon you, but for your sake, he remained cordial and polite. That said, he was ready to defend you at the smallest thing.

As everyone sat down for dinner, your mother poured you a glass of liquour and you instantly felt opposed to the idea. ”Oh, I don’t really drink anymore”, you tried, and in an instant, your mother and brother exchanged looks that were judgmental as well as surprised.

”One drink won’t kill you”, your mother insisted, continuing to pour until the glass was filled to the brim. You licked your lips nervously, but unwilling to start a full-blown argument by refusing, you reached for the glass.

Frank stopped you, however. ”They don’t gotta drink anythin’ they don’t wanna”, he spoke firmly, his tone stern enough to warn everyone not to start with him. You smiled softly at him and he squeezed your thigh in response, keeping you close to him in the hopes that his warmth would ground you in the otherwise anxiety-inducing environment.

Your mother opened her mouth to retort something, but she was cut off by the radio crackling, quickly redirecting her attention. ”Must be your grandparents again”, she commented with a laugh, one you didn’t return. You shuffled uncomfortably in your seat and Frank gave your arm a comforting caress, his eyes darting between you and your family. He hated seeing you in these situations that only distressed you, and he wished there was more he could have done to help.

But he tried by gaining control of the conversation. It was a gesture you appreciated greatly, especially because you knew he was most definitely not the kind of man who participated in small-talk. He was used to sitting back and observing, but right now, you didn’t have the capacity to keep chatting and he didn’t mind taking the reins on your behalf. He kept your mother busy so that she wouldn’t have the chance to push you to drink, but your brother still jumped at the opportunity.

”You’re really not gonna drink that? God, you really have changed. Can’t even have a drink with your family anymore”, he rolled his eyes, trying his very best to guilt you into having a sip, and it almost worked. You were moments away from cracking under the pressure, but once again, Frank came to your rescue.

”We’re, uh, we’re gon’ get some fresh air. Excuse us”, Frank informed curtly, his words respectful but his tone cold, just like the look in his eyes. He wasn’t going to let you sit there as the target of their complaints anymore, and so, he helped you up from the seat and guided you outside into the refreshing air.

You exhaled heavily as you dug out a cigarette with shaky hands, and Frank ran his hand across his face in frustration. He was seething, feeling so much anger towards your family for being so pushy with you, and he was desperate to just carry you in the car and take you home right now.

”We ain’t gotta stay, baby. The way they treat you… makes me real upset for you. Just say the word and I’ll take you home, got that?” he swore, his eyes piercing yours as you inhaled the cigarette. You pondered on his offer, and you couldn’t deny that it sounded tempting — it wasn’t a good time so far, and you doubted it was getting any better with all the alcohol they were consuming nonstop.

”Yeah, I don’t really want to stay for long. Let’s just get through dinner and then we’ll go?” you suggested, and sucking in a breath, Frank bowed his head in an agreeing nod.

”Whatever you wanna do. But I ain’t lettin’ you drink when you’ve done so well without any”, he decided with a point of his finger, and with an appreciative smile curling your lips, you reached for his forearm and squeezed.

”Thank you, Frankie. This would suck a lot more without you”, you noted, and with a quiet chuckle, Frank shrugged.

”Yeah, well, I’d need a damn good reason not to be here for you. I don’t want you to deal with all this all by yourself, y’know?” he explained, stepping closer to you and winding an arm over your shoulders. He pulled you closer, and while making sure you wouldn’t get ash on him, you leaned into him and enjoyed the feeling of his firm body against yours.

”I know it sucks. It’s just… they’re my family. I’ve realized it’s not healthy for me to spend a lot of time with them but sometimes I miss them”, you admitted quietly, a little embarrassed to speak the truth, but Frank wouldn’t judge you.

He pressed a kiss into your hair, in fact. ”I hear ya. It ain’t easy to cut off the people you’ve grown up with. I’m proud of you, anyway. You’re doin’ so great, hear me?” he emphasized, wanting you to know that he admired your strength. You were the most amazing person he knew and he would never let you forget that.

”You’re so sweet”, you muttered, shy under his praise and deep stare, and he reacted with a snort.

”That’s the first time anyone’s ever said that ’bout me, sweetheart”, he declared, and it made you laugh — even if you strongly felt like he should hear it all the time.

Sighing, you put out your cigarette. ”I guess we should head back inside”, you gave in, but with a tut, Frank pulled you back from the door.

”I mean, they ain’t exactly lookin’ for us yet. We’re in no hurry, yeah? We can take a moment, just you and me”, he proposed instead, and you didn’t take much convincing, especially with his dark eyes looking so soft and caring as they bore into yours. There was a small, hopeful smile on his lips, and that was enough to reel you in.

”I’d like that”, you agreed before leaning in to kiss his cheek. ”Thanks for everything, Frank. This really means a lot”, you added, and caressing your hair, he shook his head.

”Ya gotta stop thankin’ me, darlin’. I’m just doin’ what I can to help. And treatin’ you the way you deserve, aight?” he countered, serious about being good to you. And so far, he had been successful in every way.

It was going to be a long night, but you felt encouraged with Frank by your side, and you knew you had a way out if you just told him you wanted to go. It didn’t erase all your problems with your family, but it was safe to say you had found a new one in Frank.