#abuse of authority tw

[compassionatereminders]

I recently learned that a psychiatrist withheld a formal diagnosis of a personality disorder from me, without my knowledge. Worse, I learned that they told my parent about the diagnosis, and why they weren't making it official. They told my parent everything about the disorder, how it impacts me (things I told them in confidence), and how it effects my life and my future, but not me. They went as far as to say that because of the personality disorder (they never officially gave me a diagnosis for), I could not be trusted with the information of the diagnosis and that I wasn't able to handle it. They believed the stigma would affect me in medical situations, but more importantly that I couldn't handle knowing my own diagnosis.

As an adult with full medical autonomy, I'm livid. This is the basis upon which my parent has discredited my feelings (and my abuse) in the past, because they told her that people with the diagnosis are dishonest and overdramatic. They believed I couldn't handle the information, but it would have helped me make educated choices about my own treatment.

I'm mostly just really frustrated, and wanted to vent to someone who would understand the frustration of the medical system when you're mentally ill. What this psychiatrist did was blatantly illegal (sharing medical information I did not consent to sharing, and not even telling me), but it completely disregarded that I am a person with a right to my own medical information, and a right to make my own choices.

Yeah what that psychiatrist did was completely fucked up and unacceptable. The only person they should be sharing your medical information with without your explicit permission is you. And going behind your back and telling other people private medical information about you that you don't even know yourself?! Disgusting. I'm so fucking sorry this happened to you

[headspace-hotel]

"New (old) perspectives on self-injurious and aggressive biting" published in Journal of Applied Behavior Analysis / Nine Inch Nails- The Hand that Feeds

I was troubled to see a trend of claiming that Autistic people who do not support Applied Behavior Analysis (ABA) are a group of "low-support-needs" autistics who are monopolizing the conversation and taking resources away from autistics with higher support needs—I think it is misunderstanding.

Individual positive or negative experiences with ABA are irrelevant here—the fundamental core of the therapy is behaviorism, the idea that an autistic person can be "treated" by rewarding "desirable" behaviors and punishing "undesirable" behaviors, and that an increase in desirable behaviors and decrease in undesirable behaviors constitutes successful treatment

In researching I found that ABA practitioners have published statements condemning conversion therapy. They refer to an unfortunate historical association between ABA and conversion therapy, but it is not association—ABA literally is conversion therapy; the creator of it used it to try to "cure" little boys that were too feminine.

ABA is considered "medically necessary" treatment for autism and the only "proven" treatment, in that it is proven to create decrease in "undesirable" behaviors and increase in "desirable" behaviors.

Undesirable behaviors for an autistic person might include things like stimming and talking about their interests, desirable behaviors might include eye contact, using verbal speech, playing with toys in the "right" way.

The BCBA behavior analyst code of ethics does not prohibit "aversive" methods (e.g. electric shock) to punish undesirable behaviors

The code of ethics only discusses the consent of the "client," not the person receiving the treatment

Many people will say "my child's ABA therapist would never make them repress harmless stims, give up their interests, use electric shocks...They understand the value of neurodiversity and emphasize the consent of the child..."

But consider...if nothing binds or requires an ABA therapist to treat stimming as important, nor restrains them from using abusive techniques, nor requires them to consider the consent of a person being treated, what protects vulnerable people other than luck? The ABA therapist still has an innately unethical level of power over a child being "treated."

Furthermore, consider: can a therapy built on the goal of controlling the behavior of a person who cannot meaningfully consent to it, especially without hard limits or protections on the kinds of behavior that can be coerced or controlled, ever be ethical?

I found many articles that discuss teaching "compliance" in autistic children, treating "compliance" as a reasonable goal to strive for without qualification...

The abstract of the above article struck me with a spark of inspiration. Biting is an undesirable behavior to be controlled, understandably so, since most would feel that violence should not be allowed. But I was suddenly reminded of the song "The Hand that Feeds" by Nine Inch Nails, which is a play on the saying "Don't bite the hand that feeds you," meaning don't lash out against someone that is kind to you.

But doesn't "the hand that feeds you" implicitly have power over you through being able to give or withhold food? In this case, kindness can be a form of coercion. Thus "biting the hand that feeds" is used in the song as a metaphor for autonomy and resisting coercive power. The speaker asks the audience if they have the courage to test the benevolence of their oppressors, or if they will remain compliant and unquestioning even though they know deep down that it isn't right.

Likewise the article blunders into something unintentionally poetic when it recognizes that biting is an innately possible behavior in response to "aversive" stimuli or the "removal of reinforcers." Reinforcers and aversives in ABA are discussed as tools used by the therapist—the presentation of a preferred food would be a reinforcer, for instance (and is often used as such in ABA).

The journal article considers biting as a behavioral problem, even though the possibility that someone may bite can never be eliminated. Contrastingly, "The Hand that Feeds" highlights the coercive power behind the ability to control your behavior, even when that control appears benevolent and positive, and argues that "biting the hand that feeds you" is not only a possibility but a moral imperative.

Consider: In what circumstances would you bite someone? To defend your own body? To defend your life? Are there circumstances in which biting would be the reasonable and the right action to take?

What authority decides which behaviors are desirable or undesirable, and rewards or punishes compliance or resistance? Who is an authority—your therapist? Your teacher? Your caregiver? Any adult? Any person with the power to reward or punish?

In what circumstances might compliance be demanded of you? In what circumstances would it be justifiable not to comply? What authority decides which circumstances are justifiable?

Can you imagine a circumstance where it might be important for a child to not comply with the demands of an adult? For a citizen to not comply with the demands of a government? Which authorities demand compliance in a right and just manner, and which demand compliance to things that are evil and wrong? Which authority has the power to differentiate the two? Should you trust them? Will you bite the hand that feeds you?/Will you stay down on your knees?

[monachopsis-11]

[duskoon]

Yandere!Toru x Reader (General Headcanon):

A/n: It ain't a request, but oh god I simp for this man so hard. He is my personal favorite Jojo villain so far, closely followed by Pucci then Valentine. It's shame he is overhated and underrated, so I'll give him the love that he deserves. Rejoice Toru lovers, I got your backs. Also, Jojolion is severely underrated and deserve some love. First Jojo post, let’s go.

Tw: Afab!reader, Jojolion Spoilers, Canon Divergence, Yandere themes, Obsessive/Possessive behaviours, Toxic relationship (Somewhat of a parasitic relationship), Co-dependancy, Stalking (Classic Toru behavior right here), Abandonment issues, Implied murder, Manipulation, Creepy undertones, Age difference (Reader is 25+ and Toru is canonically 87+, rock humans can live up to 120 and age very slowly in comparison to carbon-based humans), Interspecies relationship, Abuse of Authority, Medical malpractice (illegal usage of sedatives), WoU.

Note: Text = “Purple��� = Wonder of U speaking.

╭──────༺♡༻──────╮ [Now playing: The Scientist] 𝟙:𝟘𝟙 ─────|───── 𝟝:𝟙𝟘 ↻ ◁ 𝕀𝕀 ▷ ↺ 𝕍𝕠𝕝𝕦𝕞𝕖: ■■■■■□□□ ╰──────༺♡༻──────╯

❦ “Tell me your secrets and ask me your questions..” The lyrics were blaring loudly through his earbuds, as Toru hummed along with it. In the reverie he was engrossed in, he accidentally collided onto someone. Consequently, dropping his phone in the process.

❦ Before the phone could clash with the ground and break, however, a gentle hand took hold of it and rose up to pass the device to him.

❦ “My apologies, sir. I was in a bit of hurry, you see. Please... Find it in your heart to forgive me.”

❦ Soft, yet a kind slant in the stranger’s voice snapped him from his previous stupor. As his mauvish-crimson irises wandered to meet her (e/c) ones before taking his earbuds off.

❦ “A-Ah. You don't need to apologize, miss. If anything, it's me who should apologize. I must thank you for your trouble, though.”

❦ Toru spoke with an alluring tilt in his tone, almost too charming if it weren't for the hollow eyes of his. He was the master of both guises and words. Like a jester that wore multiple masks to appease his audience.

❦ He had lived amongst organic humans for so long. Observing and adapting to their behaviors accordingly. Integrating in, yet never fully becoming one of them.

❦ He could truly never become fully human, Toru was painfully aware of that, even if he wished to be one. It's pointless to pursue such unattainable endeavour, especially if it goes against his inherent nature.

❦ The only way for him, as he thoroughly believes, to be as close to one is by accomplishing something grand. That way he’ll leave his mark permanently. That way he won't be forgotten, nor will his existence amount to nothing.

❦ Looking at the lady, he could see her wearing a navy blue medical scrub and a familiar lab coat. Is she a doctor in TG University Hospital? If so, how come he wasn't notified? He knew everyone there, aside from her. Perhaps a new hire? His curiosity has been piqued.

❦ “How intriguing…” The dark haired man thought to himself, as he shoved both his phone and earbuds into his yellow pant’s pockets. Toru chose to follow behind her. Not too far that he loses her out of his peripheral sight, but not near enough that it alarms her of his presence.

❦ In his eyes, it wasn't stalking at all but rather an observation to be made. After all for the majority of his long isolated life, he has been detached due to his “unique” circumstances.

❦ There’s something that allured him to her, was it perhaps the working of her stand? Was it fate itself? He wants to—no, must know. Yusaho was a means to an end for him, albeit you—for some odd reason—had managed to tug at his rocky heart.

~~~

❦ Due to his nature as a Rock Human… I personally believe Toru would take a long time, before he even realises his affections toward his darling is genuine and not born out of ulterior motives. Unlike, what had transpired between him and Yasuho in the past.

❦ Maybe it was your indiscriminate kindness that had enticed his voracious attention, especially since it was out of good heart, just like how a Venus flytrap secretes a sweet nectar to ensnare an unknowing prey into it’s grasp.

❦ Or by some sheer luck, he had somehow managed to flee the Higashikata’s before they could finish him off. His life was on a single thread ready to fall at any moment, if it weren't for your intervention.

❦ Perhaps you were a miracle worker of some sort that could cure the rock disease; That he had sustained from the equivalent exchange with the Higashikata’s youngest child, or you have a stand that could heal it? It doesn't matter the reason, he doesn't understand why… But he feels indebted to you.

❦ “Urgh.. Hah.. Thank you.. Thank you for saving me..” Toru muttered weakly, looking deeply into your beautiful eyes as you carefully stitched his wounds close to prevent external bleeding. It was beautiful to him. Just like the sheen of rainbow after a long storm. The eyes of his saviour. If you weren't, then one of Wonder of U endless calamities would have already stroke you.

❦ “Shhhh.. Rest your mind, I'll take care of you.. Don't stress yourself. By heavens… what… to… you?” You replied back softly, carrying the injured oddly dressed stranger to your home. Your mellifluous voice—in spite of cutting off—soothed his fears, as he closed his eyes. No longer dreading what Toru thought was his near death, because the dark haired man knows he’ll come back just fine. Your words and actions remained etched into his mind.

❦ One thing for sure… Once Toru comes into terms with his feelings, things will roll so fast and unbeknownst to you. You’ll suddenly feel scrutinizing eyes following you everywhere—whether be it his own (most likely), one of his cohorts, or even his own stand under a guise of a close relative—most likely an older man—of your own. It's not like he had a hand in said relative’s death who may or may not figured what he is up to, it was merely an… accident.

❦ Toru is extremely obsessive, as he is attentive to his darling’s habits and needs and personal preferences to a tee. From knowing ordinary things like their favorite genre of music, videogames, flowers, to their favorite food, and all the way to their medical records (Ex: If his darling’s family—by extension his darling— had a record of a hereditary diseases he’d know, to monitoring their menstrual cycle, his darling’s exact blood pressure and whatnot, and etc..) and other personal information.

❦ Whatever information regarding his darling he will covet it like a greedy dragon that preserve it’s treasures, whether through his status as a head doctor in the hospital or/and as the leader of Locacaca Organization. No one would ever suspect him of doing that, and if they do… Well.. It's a shame that they’ll met a misfortune end, eh?

❦ “Don't worry, sunflower. I will protect you, provide for you, and alleviate any kind pain you have. What kind of lover would I be, if I can't do all of that? There is absolutely nothing that I won't do to guarantee your safety and happiness except if it meant you're going to abandon/replace me. You're my first priority!”

❦ Paired with his obsessiveness, is his manipulative and sly nature. Don't let his playful and laid-back nature fool you. What lurks under his unassuming mask, is a dark and selfish urge to obtain you all for himself. Cut you off from the greedy world, only for his eyes to relish and keep.

❦ With his forbidden knowledge of his darling intricacies and inner secrets, the rock human will emulate whatever you like and would condemn what you hate. However, he is smart enough to share something of his own interests lest you suspect him.

❦ “Toru-san, It’s nice to see you again here! But, why are you here? Aren't you busy at the moment?” You asked; Voice soft, sweet, and innocent unaware of the “young” doctor’s true intentions. You were about to leave your office to head back to your home, but Toru’s sudden appearance has halted you. It's quite surprising that he precisely knew where you had worked, let alone the exact time your shift ended. Must be a coincidence, or is it?

❦ Your ardor and charity was one of a kind. Toru couldn't help but yearn for it, yet he only desires it for him and himself only. It irritates him when you share it with others, but he hides such distaste beneath a veneer of charisma.

❦ After all, he doesn't want you to be scared of him. He wants you to come to him out of your own will, and vie for him like he does to you. He is a patient man, after all. Whatever competitor/s he has for your heart are already taken care off with utter apathy toward their untimely demise.

❦ “I just finished my shift, sunflower.. I came here to ask you.. If you would like to accompany me to the theatre? I heard they'll be playing some of Tchaikovsky works, and I thought about inviting you along since you're a big fan of his works…” The young man offered, seeing your eye light up in excitement and brought a smile onto his unblemished face.

❦ “Really?!” You exclaimed elated, before deflating as you remember your current situation.

❦ “I uh.. really want to, but I… can't go.. Well.. I have a low budget at the moment… hahaha..” You continued shyly, yet that didn't stop the charming man from pointing his pointer finger ontop of your delicate lips almost to shush you in a teasing manner.

❦ “Don’t worry, If money is your concern… Then I can just cover for you! A diligent employee like you deserve a break from work. After all, stress is the greatest killer. Let me relieve some of your burden!” Toru muttered offering his right hand for you to take, while his left pointer finger is still caressing your lips.

❦ “Bu—” Before you could argue back, the dark haired man interrupted you with a playful smirk. “It is no trouble at all, sunflower.. You do not need to repay me with anything. Your presence is more than enough for me.”

❦ He is very lucid about his unhealthy obsession. Instead of rejecting it, however, he wholeheartedly accepts it. Due to his nature, he sees it as normal. Wouldn't you like to be pampered and loved like a pet?

❦ Toru is affectionate, and a tad bit physically clingy. Nothing too alarming at hindsight. Do you blame him? He had been so alone for so long without any connections, and whoever came after him succumbs to his stand’s lethal ability spurring his loneliness even further.

❦ All except you for some reason. Was it your stand that is protecting you? It doesn’t matter. He had a taste of you, and he won’t let you go. Toru refuses to go back to the agonizingly meaningless existence that he had before meeting you.

❦ What triggers him so quickly is the idea of his darling forgetting, rejecting or/and replacing him. It is his primal fear above anything else. You are the only person, who made him think of someone else besides himself.

❦ It’s enough he was rejected once due to his youthful appearance, he won't let that happen again especially with you. He had already latched onto you.

❦ “Ahahah.. Sunflower.. Please don't leave me.. I'll be good.. I'll be what you want me to be.. Just please, I beg you, don't leave me.” Toru dropped on his knees, with his two hands clutching yours tightly in a desperate manner.

❦ To an untrained eyes, you might be in the wrong for breaking this poor man’s heart. Yet, you knew better than anyone how dangerous this man was. How his obsession run deeper than still water. Or in this case, endless stream of blood and death.

❦ If only you knew back then, saving him would lead him to slaughter anyone who came close to you. All in the name of protecting and loving you.. How delusional.. Love begets altruism, not selfishness. Though, you doubt he could comprehend that.. Left completely in the dark about his inhuman nature.

❦ You’d have let him to crumble like dust, but it was far too late for that now. As he brought your hands, to where his heart supposed to be.

❦ It is often said that human response to danger was flight or fight, yet there was a third option that is often forgotten about. Freeze.

❦ Taking advantage of his beloved’s shock, he swiftly administered a sedative into her body. Slowly watching her body fall limp. Before your head could reach the concrete, he held you close to his chest.

❦ “Tell you I'm sorry. You don't know how lovely you are…” The rock human muttered softly, carrying your unconscious body to his “home” that he had bought for you. Away from civilization, just the two of you living together forevermore. The notion that you're dependant on him for everything, puts a smile on his face. He wants to be your world, just like you are to him.

❦ Escaping him is pointless, since the rock human has his connections everywhere. That, and his obsession for you had gone so far, that even his stand has inhibited some of it.

❦ Whenever Toru goes in his habitual sleep cycle like most rock humans do, Wonder of U most likely is keeping watch over you. It's very apparent since disasters and freak accidents follow you like a moth to a flame. It may not harm you directly, but the guilt that eats your mind for being the indirect cause of the bystander’s death will prevent you from trying again.

❦ “I must commend you! Not only were you clever to discover a way through my abilites, yet found a way to run away from my user. However, it's no use fleeing from us… You will only bring calamities to innocent bystanders… You do not wish for that, would you? The moment our eyes laid on you, human, it was preordained for us to be one. It would be best for you to make amends with your fate.”

[mj-iza-writer]

Tw: drug abuse mentions.

Whumpee shyly walked into the pharmacy and wandered around a little before they got brave enough to go to the counter.

"HI, uhm, I'm here to pick up my script", Whumpee tried to hide their shaking. Why couldn't the normal pharmacist be here, the one that knew them. Not this new person.

"Name?", the pharmacist grunted.

"Whumpee", they were quick to answer.

"Ah yes, you have a flag on your account for drug abuse. I'm not able to give these to you", they looked up.

"But I have a text they are ready. I need those", Whumpee pleaded, "please, I-I have someone who keeps me on track, and my Doctor checks on me regularly. I'm getting better."

"No", came the reply, "I'm not given these out to you."

"Okay", Whumpee whispered, they looked down to hide their quivering lip.

Whumpee left the pharmacy and waited outside for a few minutes wondering what they should do.

They only had one more pill left for tomorrow. Caretaker was out of town for today and wouldn't be back until way after the pharmacy closed.

"Should I call Doctor", they looked at their phone.

"I don't know what else to do."

Whumpee dialed the office number.

"Hello this is Triage, how can I help you?", someone answered.

"HI, uhm I'm Whumpee. I really need to talk to Doctor. I'm having a problem", Whumpee's lip quivered again.

"Yep, they're right here, give me one second", the Triage person heard Whumpee's voice break.

"Whumpee?", a concerned voice came on a few seconds later, "are you okay? What's going on?"

Whumpee started to cry, and talk really fast, "I'm at the pharmacist... it's a new person.... they won't let me g-get my script bec-because of my past w-with drug abuse. And I told them I needed it.... I only have one more."

"Okay Whumpee take a deep breath for me" Doctor requested, "it's okay, where is Caretaker at?"

"They are out of town for a meeting", Whumpee mumbled, "please help me, I only have one more pill left", Whumpee's voice broke again, "I don't want the voices to come back. Please help me."

"Okay", Doctor sighed, "it's okay, I'm annoyed at the pharmacy not at you. Are you okay if I put you on hold and call them to straighten this out."

"Yes", Whumpee shook, "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. I'll get this all straightened out for you, just stay on the line for me okay", Doctor waited for Whumpee to agree, then put them on hold.

"These freaken pharmacist", Doctor grumbled as they looked through Whumpee's chart to find the phone number, "always getting in my way, and messing with my patient's care."

"Hello, Pharmacy, how can I help you today", someone answered.

"Hello, this is Doctor. I just received a call from one of my patients. Are you withholding their medication?", Doctor frowned, "I would hope not, they do in fact need that medication to stay on track with their mental health. It is also highly illegal to withhold medication without cause."

"I believe you are speaking of Whumpee, they were just in here. They have a flag on their account for drug abuse. This script is a fairly addictive controlled substance", the pharmacist explained.

"Yes, it's a controlled substance.... that's why I control it. They get a certain amount for a certain amount of time, and then they get a refill. They come in and see me every few weeks for a follow-up. They also have someone who monitors their medication for them."

"You are not helping them at all right now withholding their medication. They are terrified right now that they won't get it, and they will regress again. They literally called me crying", Doctor continued, "I am reporting you for harassment as well. That alert isn't there for you to play drug monitor, unless they are trying to get extra pills or showing signs of active addiction. I am going to send Whumpee back in, and I will remain on the line with them during their transaction. If you still withhold that script, you will have serious problems with me and law enforcement. Am I clear?"

"Yes", the pharmacist gulped, then heard the click of the phone being hung up.

"Whumpee?", Doctor came back on.

"I just spoke with the pharmacist. Everything should be straightened out for you. Please keep me on the line, though, so I can listen in. I don't want you to get hassled by them", Doctor's voice had gone back to their nice patient care voice.

"Yes Doctor, thankyou so much", Whumpee cautiously went inside and to the counter.

"Pi-pick up for Whumpee please", Whumpee was too scared to look at the person again.

The pharmacist gruffly handed over the script and took the payment.

Whumpee thanked them, then quickly left.

"They didn't seem friendly", Whumpee whispered to Doctor.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that, hopefully next time the normal person will be there so you won't have any issues", Doctor stated.

"Thankyou for helping me Doctor, I'm sorry that I bothered you though", Whumpee sighed.

"Don't worry about it", Doctor smiled, "I'm here to take care of you...even if that means keeping the pharmacist in line. What are you up to now? Do you feel okay mentally, or should I call a police officer to come get you and bring you here?"

"No Doctor, I'm okay, I'm just going to walk home right now. I may stop and get some food though", Whumpee started to walk. They hid the medicine in a bag.

"Okay that sounds good", Doctor grinned, "let us know if you need anything else, I've got a few patients to see. I'll see you next week."

"Okay thankyou so much", Whumpee quickly thanked them before they hung up with each other.

A bit later Whumpee heard Caretaker come into the house.

"I'm home Whumpee", Caretaker called, "I heard you had a problem at the pharmacy today."

Whumpee peaked out from the kitchen and frowned.

"I did. It was embarrassing, demeaning, and unfair", Whumpee's lip started to quiver again, "and... and.. and... I didn't ask for these problems", Whumpee looked at Caretaker when tears started to fall, "I-I just want to be okay", they pleaded, "why do I have to beg to be okay?"

"I know Whumpee, I'm sorry", Caretaker held their arms out, "would a hug help, or would you prefer not to be touched?"

"I would like hug please", Whumpee nodded.

Caretaker smiled as they walked over and wrapped Whumpee in their arms.

"It's okay, I know it's hard right now, but their will come a time when you will be okay. Your drug abuse will be left far in the past. You may have to take the medication still, and that is perfectly fine, but it won't seem as big of a deal as it is right now. You may be able to live on your own even, but if not, I am always here. I will happily take care of you, I promise."

"But what if you get tired of me?", Whumpee rested their head on Caretaker's chest, "what then?"

"Tired of you? I don't think that's possible Whumpee", Caretaker chuckled.

"It is", Whumpee sighed.

"Nah! Not me at least", Caretaker squeezed a little tighter, "how about I get your medicine put away, then we can get started on dinner."

Whumpee nodded, "just a minute more on this hug please."

"Of course Whumpee anything for you", Caretaker chuckled.

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13 @notpeppermint @cyborg0109 @idontreallyexistyet @thebejeweledwatercat @painfulplots @whumpbump @everythingsscary @skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr @theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee @candleshopmenace @whumpanthems @lavndvrr @ivymyers @starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

[admrlthundrbolt]

New Future Weapon (Mutant Wesker x Chubby Reader)

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Wesker had never been a man to let limitations stop him. Not even his humanity. So when sweet reader is such a good employee. What is such a powerful man to do, but take advantage of his position.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hi guys, I'm back at it again. I recently rewatched all of the live action Resident Evil movies. I knew I had to write something for some of the characters. Let's just say Wesker wormed his way into my head and wouldn't leave. So now I have this. Hope you enjoy.

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He had been to ambitious. A feat he would have never considered before. Taken things to far. Turning his body into a weapon at the cost of his own humanity. It had been a risk and he was paying for it.

So he had opted to hiding his new form. Projecting a hologram of his former self. Never leaving his office or chancing someone glimpsing him.

It made his stomach burn with hatred. He had wanted to be in control so badly. That he had lost himself in the process. It was maddening and sickening all at once. He had all but smashed any surface that may reflect his new body. Staring down at the bloody slashes in his hands. Relishing in how the stinging pain and crimson liquid gave him a whisper of humanity. Until the wounds began to stitch themselves back together and remind him. He was a monster and would stay that way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His work was interupted by an odd shuffling. It had been weeks since the last person was allowed in his office. Now his only source of human interaction was through the Umbrella security cameras. It not as if he was ever the most social man, but he did miss physical contact every once and a while. Even if that contact was only to rip someone limb from limb.

Peering around the door from his living area, he glared towards his desk. Most called him a workaholic for living in a room attached to his office. While he called it efficient. It was especially fortunate with his current set of circumstances.

What he saw was especially surprising. There you were, shuffling through a filing cabinet against the wall. You were what he would consider a special case. A bit clumsy and naive. But an all around great worker. He had met you before becoming the creature he was now. You had barely met his gaze and fidgeted in place. Something he would usually find annoying. With you though it was endearing. Watching your soft hands clutch a stack of files. It would make his gaze linger a bit to long.

His gaze had a habit of following you. Thankful for his practice of wearing sunglasses everywhere. And his transformation hadn't stopped the trend. If you were in the building, one of the security cameras was trained on you. Tracking your every step. How you had made it into his office without him noticing was a mystery.

Now he had a dilemma on his hands. His fingers twitched as thoughts of how your plush skin would feel against them. But did he risk you seeing him? He struggled with the decision for a few moments. That is until a deliciously devious thought entered his mind. Why shouldn't he keep you here. Make you his personal assistant of sorts. His heart thrumed at the idea. Yes that would do nicely.

In a mere second he was behind you. Trapping you between him and the filing cabinet. “What a wonderful coincidence. You're just the person I wanted to speak with.” He could feeling you tremble under him. It was an exhilaration feeling. To think he could have had this all along.

You pinched your eyes shut tightly. Maybe if you hoped hard enough he would disappear. As his hot breath continued to fan over the back of your neck. You knew there was no way out of this. Turning towards him, your eyes widened. He had definitely changed since your last meeting.

He had to be at least two heads taller. He was wider too. Seeming to have doubled if not tripled his muscle mass. And you could have sworn that there was something flicking behind him. As you squinted for a better look, he shifted his face back into your veiw. Even his eyes seemed to glow behind his usual shades.

Still it would do to quietly shake in front of him. “Why would that be, Sir?”

He saviors the authority he held over you. The way the title slid off your tounge. It made a shock run down the length of his spine. “I've suddenly found myself in need of a personal assistant. Your performance has led me to believe you are the perfect candidate.” A feral grin took over his expression.

You gave a slow shake of your head at the suggestion. But stopped as his brow furrowed. “I don't mean any disrespect Sir. I'm just not sure that my superior would be happy with that. I don't want to become a burden on the company by switching departments.” While you may be telling the ‘truth’. You weren't sure what your chances of survival would be under a man like Wesker.

His face smoothed at the admission. Yet another example of your wonderful work ethic. Placing a hand on your shoulder, he gave a firm squeeze. “I'm sure they'll make an exception for me.” He would make sure of that. Even if he had to pry your transfer from their cold lifeless hands.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was the start of your ‘professional’ partnership with Wesker. You were under his constant vigilent watch. His work production had taken a hit from it. But who would be the one to question him. To get in his way? No one. He had made sure of that.

Though that didn’t stop the occasional intrusion. Something that he was growing weary of. It had made the virus within him burn. An almost unbearable heat to stoke inside his blood. Coaxing him to further the mutation that brewed internally. Something that he had you assist with.

You were so easy to guide. It was a pity he hadn't realized your potential before now. But he had you and he wouldn't let you go.

Glancing at you from behind tinted lenses. He couldn't help the smirk that shifted onto his face. Your face scrunched in concentration as you typed away. No mattered what you did it seemed to enamore him. You had an enchanting beguiling pull he had never experienced before.

You turned to ask a question and was startled to notice him already facing you. “Um, Sir, I need verification to access this file.” You shifted nervously in your seat as he stared.

Nodding, he turned to his own computer. Granting you access without a second thought. It was so nice to pass along the tedious side of this job to someone else. Yes, you were an asset that he would take full advantage of.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His head was pounding. Another migraine caused by the virus. It pulsed through his body and attempted to control him. Falling to his knees, he clutched his head.

Startled at the sudden sound. You cautiously made your way towards the noise. Peeking into Wesker's private residence you paused. He was slumped on his knees. His hands, which were more tentacle like these day, grabbed at his head.

You hesitated to move forward. This was the man that had turned your life upside down. Why should you give him your sympathy. But as he whined in pain. You couldn't help the way your heart lurched. Shuffling to the nearby bathroom, you wet a rag with cool water.

You warily made your way to his side. Placing a hand on his shoulder, you tensed. When he didn't have a adverse reaction, you knelt beside him. Pressing the cold cloth to his forehead, he relaxed immediately. Sagging into your soft body. He wrapped his larger form around you. Taking in any comfort you would give him. No words were exchanged, they didn't need to be.

It was this small act of kindness that seemed to shift your relationship into a new direction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After that day it seemed that the pair of you had changed. He would be more considerate of you. Bringing you coffee in the morning. Asking you about your day. Treating you like a person rather than a belonging.

Where you had become compassionate. Not brushing away his new affection. Helping him through his spells of anguish. The virus had taken a toll on his body. Even as he stopped his attempts at furthering the mutation. That didn't stop the effects that his experiments had done. You had even taken to staying in his office. It was after a particularly horrible night.

You had held him in your lap as shakes would taken over him from time to time. He couldn't keep anything down. Anytime you offered to go get help, he would cling to you. In shuddery breaths he would say that he only needed you. You were the only thing that help him, made him feel human again.

So a second bed was quickly added to the makeshift apartment. You were allowed as much space as you wanted. But you didn't have much. Only a few personal affects and most of it could fit in a couple of suitcases.

It seemed as if you were become more personal than an assistant.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alarms were blaring and lights were flashing. It ripped the both of you from your slumber. You had just manage to raise yourself into a sitting position. When Wesker sprinted into the room. Hovering over you, he check that you were OK. Shocked by his sudden appearance and bit of man handling, you gasped.

Shooing him away, you attempted to shout over the noise. “We need to evacuate. There's no telling what could have set that off.”

He nodded, but stayed rooted to your side. Shaking your head, you gathered anything that could be important. Pushing him towards his own room, you helped him move along quickly. It took longer than you would have liked. But it was hard to hurry a giant mutant man as he straped weapons to his body.

Darting through the facilty you made your way up to the evacuation zone. It was suspicious how there were no other people in the halls. Until you came across the elevators. Piles of unmoving bodies blocked the doors. There was no obvious signs of death. It looked as if they dropped where they were standing.

Shaking your head you looked towards him. His glowing eyes narrowed at the corpses. “Never would have trusted them anyways. Stairs are much more reliable.” Wrapping his large hand around your plush waist, he guided you away.

The silence that followed was tense. Only your slight pants filled the air. By the seventh flight of stairs you couldn't take it.

Stopping in your trek, you glared at him. “That's all you could think about? How dangerous the elevators could be. Not all of those lives lost?” As the words let your mouth they felt vile. Like something you had wanted to purge yourself from for a while.

He looked back at you, his stance taut. Brow pinch in annoyance, he frowned. “No I was thinking about the fasted way out of here. A route that would keep both of us safe.”

Reaching for you, he was surprised when you stepped back. Bringing his hand back to his side, his fist clenched. Look, I'm in the dark just as much as you are in this situation. If I had any idea that this would happen. We would have left long before now.”

Your expression became more heated. “And that's the point. Your concerned is about yourself. Not all of the bodies that are left in Umbrella's path.”

His shock was palpable. Where was this coming from? He had never seen you this passionate before. He was in awe of this side of you. Though that didn't stop his indignation at the situation. “I want to get both of us out of here safely as quickly as possible. We can't do anything for those people now.”

Stepping forward, he grabbed you quickly. Hefting you onto his shoulder, he squeezed your soft body tightly. Digging his fingers into the fat of your thigh. You squirmed as he sprinted up the stairs. “And if I'm not mistaken, we're employed by the same company.” He was to preoccupied to see the guilty look that came over your face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Reaching the top floor, he set you down gently. He trusted you to stay with him, even if it may be a bit reluctant. That didn't stop him from wrapping an arm around your plush waist. He soaked up your warmth, but didn't force you to stay in his embrace. There was a part of you that chastised yourself for not pulling away. While the logical part argued that it was safer to stay close.

The sign for the exit shuttles loomed ahead. Hearing a familiar voice you sprinted forward. Only to realize your mistake a moment to late. There stood Caleb, your coworker, though not through Umbrella.

He started to cross the room towards you. “(Y/N), thank God. I was worried that you got taken out too.” His eyes glossed over in tears as he came closer. “I can't believe what they did. How did you survive?” He skidded to a halt as Wesker cleared the corner into the room.

You immediately put yourself between them. Sending a sharp look the mutants way, you said. “Don't even think about starting something.” Shifting your gaze to the other man, you frowned. “Explain what happened here.”

Wide eyes darted between you and the much taller man. “Wwwe didn't know how to infiltrate. Especially after we couldn't get any more information from you.” Giving you a hard look, the glassiness of his eyes increased. “We thought you were found out. Tortured and killed for all we knew. So we decided to go through with it. Break in and grab whatever information we could.” He became silent after that. Wringing his hands, a habit he had since childhood. One that you knew meant something went wrong.

Hearing a shuffle behind you, your head turns quickly. Wesker was reaching into his coat. Placing a firm hand on his arm, you shook your head. Frowning he lowered the hand. You gave him a meaningful look. “It's important to gather what data while we can.” He reluctantly nodded and you faced the other man, nodding for him to continue.

His wringing became more frantic. “We tried to stop him. Frank that is. You remember him right. He was the type to always charge in.” He glared at the floor, then looked at you angrily. “Well it turned out he only rushed in to gain something. When he found the antidote he went crazy. Started shooting everyone and rushed out of the room. It set off some kind of alarms and a bunch of people started dropping. I was luck though. Still up here on the cameras.”

You went to step forward. To comfort your friend, but a hand stopped you. It was firm and large, holding you in place. Glancing back, you noticed he didn't take his eyes off the smaller man. Turning you noticed that his hands held a gun now. His hands trembled as he grasped it. Then he pointed it in your direction.

“You know this never would have happened if it wasn't for you. If you had done what you were supposed to do. We could have taken down Umbrella. But no, you had to get attached to this fucking monster.” Spit flew from his mouth as he screamed at you.

You wished you could argue with him. But deep down you knew he had a point. Still that didn't mean you stopped Wesker from lashing out at him. Tearing him apart and making sure there was no chance of survival.

As you stepped on the train car, you knew that his gaze was on you. That the both of you had some things to explain and work through. And you would, because in a way you were stuck with each other. But there wasn't any other way either of you would want it.

[broke-art-girl]

"Wait in the Truck." By Broke_Art_Girl

(TW: Abuse and Murder!!!)

Fandom: Bones and All (2022)

Summary: Lee finds you after your abusive boyfriend beats you pretty bad. He decides this is the last time.

Words: 1,638

Characters: Lee (Bones and All), Reader/ (Y/N),

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54134755

~

Lick it up! Lick it up!

The familiar tune turned your head. You checked your watch, ten minutes before your shift ends. You leaned a bit to your right behind the counter and looked out the door in the library lobby. Yep. Lee was in the parking lot. You smiled as you watched him playing the song on invisible drums. Dork. You thought. My Dork.

You got jittery. You just wanted to climb inside, be engulfed in kisses. Hear him call you beautiful. Breathe together as you intertwine your fingers with his.

Your boss walked quickly to the entrance door. He tapped the glass with a finger and chuckled.

"Who's that?” He asked.

“Hm?” You replied, packing your things for the day.

“That idiot blaring music.” He kept staring out at Lee's old pickup with a friendly smile.

“He's waiting for me.” You said as you gathered your stuff.

“You? He’s your boyfriend?”

“Mhm, we've been a thing for a while.”

“huh..” He turned to you, looked at you for a moment, cocked his head then sighed. “Yeah, I don't see it.”

“See what?” You stood for a moment, innocently confused.

“You.. and that guy.”

You laughed and threw your bag on your back. “Guess sometimes you find love in strange places.”

He nodded and held the door as you exited.

You made haste with the stairs, two stepping on your way down, almost tripping over a pinecone. You gripped the rusty truck handle and then-

“Hey girl~” Lee cooed, his hand turning down the blaring music.

“Hi,” You said with a smile and a giggle as you climbed in his blue truck. You kissed his cheek immediately. He leaned into it, gently taking your cheeks and kissed your lips. He tasted like minty smoke and you could feel the gum inside his mouth against your tongue. He sighed as the kiss broke and looked into your eyes for a moment.

“So pretty..” He whispered.

“I love you.” You whispered back.

“I love you, too.” He returned.

You couldn't take your eyes off his.

The air was romantically quiet for a moment but you started giggling again. You just couldn't be happier with him.

He smiled and kissed you once more. “Wanna go home?”

“Please.”

“‘kay.” He sighed still gazing into your eyes, drinking them in after your long shift away from him. Eventually he kissed you one more time, and released your face.

Lee shifted gears and headed in the direction of the apartment complex you had a lease on, you manually cranked the old rusty crank to get the window down. The wind on your skin in the humid weather was amazing. You giggled as you stole glances at him from time to time.

Your memory faded back to the day you and Lee met.

You were running with a limp, trying to read what you could make out of a tattered old map you saw in a ditch. It was hard to hold open with a broken hand. The rain pouring down over you and the thunder making you jump. Your nose was bleeding. The blood dripped down on your old shirt.

About halfway to town you came to the fork in the road where you got confused. Was it left or right? Or was it straight? Crap. You took the left path after a minute of thinking.

‘It’s your fault.. It’s all your fault…’ You thought. ‘If you hadn't said that to him it wouldn't have happened.’ Tears fell down your cheeks.

Suddenly a pair of headlights came down the hill. The old blue truck slowed when it saw you. You squinted and moved aside to not get run over.

“You okay? Your bleedin’” The man asked. He had a shaggy crimson colored mullet, green eyes, a pale, thin frame, and a shredded pair of jeans.

You shook your head in return.

“Climb in, you're soaked, sure it's June but it's still cold out in the rain.”

You nodded.

“I'm Lee.” He said while you buckled up in pain.

You rode silently for a while until he broke it with a question.

“If you don't mind me asking,”

You figured he was being nosey. You didn't wanna talk about it.

“I've never been to this town. Where's a gas station?”

Huh, ok.. not nosey..

“There's one about a mile up ahead, at the fork in the road, go straight.” You wiped at your nose with your functional hand.

“Thank you.” He replied gently and headed that way. “You live around here?” He asked.

You didn't know what to say. You did but you didn't want to. Not with him.

“Uhm.. it's complicated.” You mumbled.

“You and your partner got into a fight?” He asked. “They kick you out?”

“.. he..” You stopped. “He was drunk- sometimes he hits me, but never like this...”

“Where is he?”

“What?” You asked, Simi shocked.

He looked you dead in the eye and asked. “Where. Is. He?”

You could tell Lee was very serious. This was your chance. You would never get away alive on your own..“Take a right at the fork.. it's the old trailer park on south main.” you said plainly so he could hear you.

‘Why is he being so nice?’ You thought as he drove towards your abuser's trailer. ‘He doesn't even know me.’

After a while you arrived, he parked the truck in a hidden spot in the woods on top of a hill that faced down at the trailer.

“Wait in the truck.” He mumbled as he pulled out a handgun from under his seat.

You didn't think he was gonna kill him?! Maybe beat him up a little but not kill him! “But-!”

“Just wait in the truck.” He ordered.

For some reason you couldn't bring yourself to disagree. You sighed and sat back in your seat. He pulled you forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead, then he was off, stalking down the driveway like Jason Voorhees.

You watched Lee walk down the hill of a driveway to the door. He pounded and pounded but the man didn't answer. Then Lee took a step back and rammed his foot into the door knocking it wide open. Then he raised his pistol and fired. The boom rang out and the light flashed. There was no screaming. No panic on Lees part.

That awful man never came back out the door, but Lee went inside. A lamp was on behind him, the curtains were drawn and the angle the car was sitting at was a perfect shadow theater for what you saw next.

Lee nudged the body with his foot. It didn't react that you could see. Then he bent down and with his fingers probed around in the bullet wound in your abuser's chest, right at the base of his heart. He pushed and pushed his fingers through, gently teasing the hole wider until he could reach the heart, then he tore it out the stretched hole. He placed it to the side and took out a pocket knife.

He carved bit by bit off the body and looked to be eating the flesh. He sliced and sliced away. Chewing and swallowing, wiping up blood and sucking it off his fingers. He went to the kitchen to get a glass of water and guzzled it down until he was satisfied.

He grabbed the deceased's pack of cigarettes off the mantel and lit one up. He puffed on it then picked up the phone and dialed. He spoke only a few things and hung up.

He came back outside with the heart, still puffing on the cigarette. He was soaked head to toe in blood. Red, cold, blood. That man's blood.

He bent down and laid the heart on the blue painted deck. He stood back up, staring down at it for a moment. He took a step back, lifted his foot and then-!

Wham!!!!

He threw his foot down on top of it and it burst like a water balloon filled with blood.

You never thought your revenge would be so graphic, but it sufficed. You now felt safe somehow.

He walked back to a rocking chair on the deck and sat, you guessed he was tired. But that's when you heard it. The sirens. He had called the police earlier.

‘No!!’ You thought. The officers arrived and arrested him.

You testified for Lee.

“Do you believe that the defendant acted as your guardian angel that night?” The lawyer asked.

“I don't know if he's an angel, cause angels don't do what he did. But I knew right then, I'd never get hit again when he said to me, ‘Wait in the truck.’” You replied.

Lee was charged.

You went to see him from time to time until he was released. Nobody really minded that he only served five years on good behavior. Nobody liked your ex anyway. Lee did the world a solid by killing him. Maybe eating him wasn't planned. You assume killing someone would provoke an Eater's hunger.. but maybe you didn't mind.. oddly.

Your mind faded back as Lee rubbed your thigh at a stop light.

“Where'd you go?” He asked.

“Home.” you returned with a smile.

Lee pulled up to the complex you lived in together and you too went inside. Life was a little different for you two, especially since he was an Eater. Meal time was especially hard.

He noticed you got lonely without him and he didn't exactly want to bring you along, so he would sneak away in the middle of the night to eat.

Lee was a good man. He only ate when he found a girl walking along the road, black and blue, bloody. He would ask them if they were okay, then tell them, “Wait in the Truck.”

[compassionatereminders]

It is that time of year! My mother is threatening to “clean” my room for me (aka throw away literally everything I own) because my PTSD caused depression means I have piles of clothes on my chairs and books in specific areas. I want to cry, because if I ask for help she will just toss everything and the writing I have (which she’ll also chuck in the trash) is the only way I can get out of this house because they’ve forbidden me from having a job due to them wanting me to do more social things

It is not "that time of year" - your moms behavior sounds abusive and I hope you know it's neither natural or okay for her to treat you and your things in this manner

[warrior-cats-rewritten]

how are you going to handle ashfur in wcr? i’ve always loved him but also felt like he should have been more clearly written either as a sympathetic tragic character or a total asshole, instead of kind of both

Technically, both!

On one hand, his mother was brutally murdered when he was young. He and his 3 siblings relied heavily on each other, but when Ferncloud got together with Dustpelt, Tulipfur grows closer to the older cats of Thunderclan, and Elderleaf buried herself in her work to try and become Camp Keeper, he feels upset and left behind. He has a right to feel that way, but he keels feeling that way. Stuck in the past... And over time, he blames everyone around him for his troubles.

A bonus scene shows his trial shows that he is incredibly charming. He sways the jury by pleading to see his mother, being incredibly loving towards her, and asking about his passed on nieces, Larchkit and Hollykit.

He plays up the sympathy card, talking about how it was such a foolish thing to do, how he just loved Squirrelflight too much, and how he totally deserved what Hollyleaf did. He blames Brambleclaw in a roundabout way. See, he just looked do much like the cat who killed my mom :(

The jury is mostly split and the final vote falls to Yellowfang.

After she and Raggedstar split up, he became mates with Foxheart. He didn't love Foxheart, just used her feelings and affections to hurt Yelf. Yellowfang admitted that, though she knew what he was doing, it still hurt. She wanted to shout at him, hurt him, and even wanted to hurt Foxheart, who hadn't done anything wrong.

She votes in his favour, because she finds it a bit relatable. She fell for the act, many cats did. She is ashamed to admit it later on, but in that moment, she knew what that anger was like. She still disapproves of his treatment of Hollypaw, and his anger towards the Three, but his trial is about The Fire Scene specifically, and all of Starclan knows Squirrelflight is going to be on trial when she eventually passes away.

And, for a good chunk of his time in Starclan, he looks normal. He hangs out with his nieces, cheering when they get their Star names, Hollyfoot and Larchwhisker. He hangs out with Tulipfur when his brother dies during AVOS, defending him when his cross-clan relationship comes into question.

In Squirrelflight's eyes, he was strange, and controlling, he treated her like some precious thing that couldn't do too much or she would break, some kind of prize to be hoarded.

Many cats alive did not like him. His was an ass towards most cats in Thunderclan, and he wasn't popular.

TBC shows his true colours. Controlling, manipulative, holier-than-thou, vindictive, and entitled.

Squirrelflight is glad to finally put him down for good.

[bonnibellexox]

Let’s Talk About Caught Red-Handed (Spoilers)

With this recent chapter, I’m seeing a lot of people criticising the way I’ve written Jaune. Weak, push-over, coward etc are all ways he has been described. And while I do agree that his inaction has run its course (which is why this chapter is the end of that arc for him) I do think these critisisms come from a place that may be unfair.

Jaune (in this story) is a r*pe victim and is being abused by a very broken Ruby. This is fresh, having only happened a week ago in the timeline. He, through no fault of his own, has been sucked into an abused girls life and as a result, she wanted to take out everything out on him. She doesn’t do this intentionlly, which lends itself to his self-blame as he feels she isn’t rying to hurt him. It’s not her fault.

It starts with her withholding affection and information. She presents herself as an untouchable, desirable girl with a twisted side he desperately wants to understand. Every time he gets close, sees some genuine emotion in her, she slams the door Hard, leaving him treading lighter next time. Without this emotional depth, he, like many of you, is left to percieve her as a 2D caracature. As a result, he objectifies, sexualitises and idolises her.

Next, she hides something big from him, something he knows is scaring her. He is simultaniously made to comfort her, while also not being good enough to know what he’s soothing away. He tries to stop playing games, but she ends up birsting into tears and voicing an identity crisis. She finally lets him in, lets him have something she’s held out of arms reach for so long, but disappears immediately after without a word of explanation.

As you can imagine, this starts his spiral of selfdoubt. He worries he did something, percieved everything wrong, that maybe she was right to be so guarded. She lies and says it was all fun and games, refusing to acknowledge real connection and intimacy.

Eventually, she baits him. She uses her own suffering as a barganing chip, luring him out with promise of affection and tranparency just to use him for comfort. They get close, he relaxes, he solidifies the idea that she’s worth fighting for and that being alone is unbarable, before she rips away again without explanation.

Having enough, he follows her and finds out that for a long time, she’s been getting blackmailed. She spends her nights being tortured and r***ed. He gets close to intervening, to violently attacking the people responsible, but a friend, someone he knows Ruby genuinely trusts in the way he so craves, warns him that it will only make it worse and risk her safety.

He tends to her wounds but she abandons him again, so he confronts her, ashamed of the anger he feels at being lied to for so long. During their conversation, he offers advice and in exchange, she gives him more affection. He desperately needs a sense of control and influence over this situation, so when she tells him that he “makes everything better,” it forms a new identity for him. One that needs to help in the few ways she will allow.

Then she realises that he can bring comfort and catharsis in a darker way. Manipulating him again and again, she uses small moments of honesty to condition him. She r*pes him, she projects all her hatred onto him, and finishes it off with just enough love that he wants to believe its worth it. But they also can’t help but hate each other, resent each other. They want to hurt the only people they can get their hands on and in a moment of dispair, she taunts him into beating her badly.

From there, he starts to realise how bad things are and wants to put an end to it. But confiding in others feels like putting a target on his own back. He is toxic too, he is abusive too, he is letting her suffer because he is frozen in place. Every movement to save her rips them apart, every kiss is met with a bite, every extended hand is flinched away from.

Jaune Arc isn’t like this in the show because this Jaune Arc was crafted to be insecure, scared, starved and emotional raw. He is an abuse victim. Give him that credit before you say he isn’t tough enough, the same grace you all seem to give Ruby.

[volfoss]

it is beyond infuriating how anne rice seems to insist on marius being a positive force in anyone's life ever. like she can't fully commit to exploring the fact he groomed armand and has repeatedly taken away his consent for what marius thinks is best (take the end of TVA as an example) and just kind of flatly puts it in the narrative. there's not really much interest in how these horrific events make marius come across as the worst because EVERYONE loves him. for gods sake, lestat learns from armand exactly what marius did to him in TVL and then proceeds to go find marius and be super friendly to him in the same fucking book. even armand and pandora, two of the people who have MORE than enough right to hate him, do not. it doesnt feel like shes trying to explore the toxicity of the abusive dynamic he traps them in, it just is there. and like yeah ofc the toxic vampire romance series but i think that this should be handled with more care. and it is not ever really framed in a way that she is interested in exploring how marius should easily be one of the most horrific characters in this series because it kind of feels like sa/rape/grooming/other things of that sort are just put there to further plot and not to really get the respect that they deserve in a medium.

[mecharose]

genuinely "oppositional defiance" as a disorder is like female hysteria to me. its literally just trauma symptoms pathologized as a disorder -___-

[number1villainstan]

do you have any headcanons in regards to kai chisaki's bio parents? did he get thrown out or do you think they died. or both. or a secret third thing i haven't considered. /from kainagant

i ABSOLUTELY have chisaki-parent headcanons. content warnings for discussions of child abuse/neglect/abandonment under the cut because chisaki is my favorite character and therefore i can and will put him through hell :)

These headcanons are kind of crack, but I think his bio father was Yaoyorozu's grandfather, the patriarch of the Yaoyorozu clan. His bio mother was the guy's secretary who he had to fire to hide the fact that he had an affair 🫢 She managed to extort a lot of child support/hush money from him, citing the fact that she had to take care of a baby and also the fact that she had his wife's phone number.

...not that any of that money actually went to child support, mind you. She was the type of mother who treated her child as an obligation at best and a show prize at worst--she enrolled baby kai in an expensive all-girls school (he's trans and i will fight you on that) so she could brag to her friends about it, but she would also make him go to school while sick and would only rarely cook any kind of meals for him. he was usually on his own to find or cook food in the house, and when an accident inevitably happened and he broke a dish she'd scream at him like he did it on purpose.

(In all honesty, I think she was the egotistical mean girl type who no one would want to hang out with if she didn't have power over them of some kind. In a modern AU Chisaki would 100% hang out on/gain a lot of comfort from r/raisedbynarcissists, as ableist as that sub can be.)

There are some points in the abuse cycle where she tries to reconcile with him, but of course solely on her terms. Usually she'd try to win him over by spending money on a bunch of new toys, almost always dolls or other "girl toys", instead of doing things like apologizing for screaming, asking him how his day went, or even asking him what toys he'd actually want and buying those. (Sound familiar?)

Of course, it only gets worse when baby Kai starts showing signs of being autistic. She absolutely takes him not looking her in the eye as a personal slight, along with playing with his toys "wrong", not liking certain foods or textures, stimming too loudly, or generally being 'strange'. Because of course she does. And of course, Overhaul isn't very easy to control at such a young age, and she takes *that* personally too--she's absolutely called him cursed and monster because of his Quirk.

But moving on to how he ended up on the street. When Kai's eight, she decides that she's done with her "creepy weirdo daughter" and dumps him at an orphanage. For the next couple years he's going to be running away from orphanages, living on the streets, getting dragged back to orphanages, and so on. There may also be shitty foster homes involved, if the Japanese welfare system is like that at all. He'll realize early on the weirdness of gender (he cuts his hair super short a few weeks after the abandonment, gets asked if he's a boy in a dress or a girl with short hair, and realizes that he could be whatever he wanted) and bounce between presentations during this time, and just so happened to be in boymode when the oyaji found him, which is how he got stuck in boymode for basically ever. But that's a story for another time, and not what you asked about.

Anyways, so, to recap: bio dad is the Yaoyorozu patriarch and Momo's grandad, bio mom is the secretary he had an affair with and also a shitbag (which left Chisaki with massive emotional scars), and I think he got abandoned/kicked out as a little girl.

[aracnidaarmagedon]

I hate the fact that a horrible man was responsible for one of the best pieces of toxic yaoi to ever exist.

Like, why could you not be a decent fucking person?

You literally could have had it all and ruined it by being a disgusting ass man

[crash-bump-bring-the-whump]

More of modern au Mariano's prison arc!! He sure is normal and okay. This one is VERY heavy so no shame in needing to skip it!

TWs: Suicidal thoughts/ideation, starvation, institutional abuse, abuse of power, dehumanization, exposure to low temperatures, neglect, captivity (of the prison variety)

The moonlight streamed in, turned crisp and sharp by the winter air. The blanket he was issued wasn't enough to keep it off of Mariano's skin, or out of his bones. It crawled in under the blanket with him and curled in close.

It sighed across his shoulders and neck. Its kisses made his nose numb. He couldn't feel his toes or fingers anymore.

Mariano could see his breath every time he exhaled.

It didn't matter. No one would do anything if he mentioned it, and this was normal anyway. February was always the worst in isolation.

Vaguely, Mariano wondered if he'd die in his sleep. It wasn't really cold enough for it, but for all he knew it was just a particularly dry night. The mattress pad rustled as he curled onto his side, tucking his fingers between his sides and his biceps.

His shoulders and hip ached, the cushion almost nonexistent between Mariano's body and the concrete. The persistent shivering wasn't helping much either, but that was just how one spent winters in solitary confinement.

Dying didn't sound so terrible.

His parents wouldn't have to worry about him anymore. They wouldn't have to keep sending him money for commissary. They wouldn't be blamed for raising a monster anymore, because the evil would've died behind bars. He wouldn't be able to hurt anyone ever again.

Maybe dying would be warm.

Mariano could make it warm. His hands gripped his sides tighter. It would be so easy. He wasn't warded. It was too dangerous to ward him permanently, would make him too sick. The guards didn't want to deal with it, and it wasn't like the charges he'd catch for using his magic would matter if he was dead. All he had to do was wrap his hand around his own throat and cast. He wouldn't feel it for more than a second.

He swallowed against his own icy palm. He didn't realize he'd put his hand to his throat. It trembled in the cold air.

He wouldn't be hungry anymore if he died.

Mariano's stomach ached, chewing on itself. They'd forgotten to bring him lunch and dinner. Sometimes that happened on shift changes. It was probably why he felt colder than usual. It was fine.

He wouldn't be thirsty, either.

No food meant no water. Solitary confinement meant that he couldn't just go get water, because his cell was never unlocked and left unsupervised. He could drink from the sink, technically, but that had made him violently ill the last time he'd tried. The pipes were too old, the nurse had said. The guards had laughed. Mariano didn't blame them.

It would be so easy.

It would be as easy as breathing.

Mariano exhaled, and only a plume of condensation from his breath met the air.

It didn't help. There was no sense of peace. No comfort. Mariano dying wouldn't make a difference. It would just make his parents sad. It would just annoy the guards. It would make strangers happy. It didn't help.

Mariano's hand slid to his chest, over his heart. It wouldn't make things better. It wouldn't even really make anything worse. It would just happen. He brought his hand to his hair and started slowly sliding his fingers through his own hair like his mother used to do. Like Luis used to do.

It didn't help.

It didn't hurt.

Mariano slept.

It was fine.

[lowlifesymptoms]

Data gets taken advantage of by a visiting Starfleet officer