#beginning of the healing process

[mcmorare]

tl katrina's tattoos:

the 3-letter abbreviatons for all the professional clubs she's played for, listed oldest at the bottom and newest at the top. TSV, FCS, WOB, and soon AFC. each set of letters is about an inch and a half long, and the set is found on the outside of her leg, just above her left ankle.

a fine line drawing of the frauen-bunde.sliga trophy, completely in black and white except for the green accents. just under two inches, found on the inside of her right arm. gotten after the first time she won the trophy with wol.fsburg.

the little shield pendant her grandfather made her (which she still has). to scale, so just over an inch tall, and located on her left side, over her ribcage.

an edelweiss bloom and leaf, in light color. about an inch and a half wide, and just over two inches tall. found right below the base of her neck, on her back. gotten after her first call-up to the national team.

[kvtnisseverdeen]

Buttercup begins to wail as well. No matter what I do, he won’t go. He circles me, just out of reach, as wave after wave of sobs racks my body, until eventually I fall unconscious. But he must understand. He must know that the unthinkable has happened and to survive will require previously unthinkable acts. Because hours later, when I come to in my bed, he’s there in the moonlight. Crouched beside me, yellow eyes alert, guarding me from the night. In the morning, he sits stoically as I clean the cuts, but digging the thorn from his paw brings on a round of those kitten mews. We both end up crying again, only this time we comfort each other.

[redeliminator]

i believe that to some extent Andre knows he's fucked up and this headcanon is one of the hills I will die on in the farewell tape, Cal says that “you can’t cure somebody who has nothing wrong with them.” 

Andre, on the other hand, admits they might be seen as hypocrites. he's not gonna back out, he still thinks it's the right thing for him to do, but he seems to acknowledge that people will not perceive it the same way. he tries to explain that no matter what it’ll look like, it’s not murder for the sake of murder - not in his eyes at least. there's a (sick and twisted) lesson hidden in this tragedy.

to some extent, Andre is aware of what’s going on with him, what exactly shaped him into who he is now. he sees the cause and effect of being bullied, of feeling rejected and alienated, and not being able to do anything about it because that's just who he is. he can kick and scream and shout but he will never change who he is at his core and this realization is crushing for a 17/18-year-old. this and all the implications of a missing sense of belonging.

he knows he’s messed up. he knows what would fix him and he’s convinced it’s out of his reach. he looks at other students and he thinks: it’ll never be me. and he's angry that they have something he will never have.

his awareness doesn't help though. if anything, it fuels his frustration. what adults know to be a temporary problem (high school) seemed like an insurmountable obstacle, the end of everything.

[d8tl55c]

me: waiting for shoe(s) to drop

Personified Alan Becker YouTube Icon: oh... buddy...

[basim-ibnishaq]

Imagine how happy Gabriel would be to hear that Miguel actually might now see a way forward with Conchata, that maybe one day the three of them could feel like a family...just thinking about how much Gabriel hurt seeing her grow more and more cold towards Miguel as the toll George's abuse took on her really started to show, and watching Miguel distance himself further, referring to her as crazy lady instead of ma because he can no longer see in her mother he had before he was torn away from her and Gabriel

Then everything changes: Miguel becomes spiderman and begins to shed the arrogance and selfishness that he's protected himself with since school, and Conchata gets away from the hospital and takes the closure she so desperately needs into her own hands - she wants to be better for her sons, both of them. She's inspired by spiderman, not knowing its her own son under the mask..and with both her and Miguel being in a better place than they've each been in years they can finally start to work on healing their relationship

[vi-enti]

school’s over so back on the fanfic grind (a grind i have not openly shared on the internet since like. 2018), unsure if this is an idea to continue but i am thinking so hard... about the difficulties of the healing process. really gotta purge that poison

. . .

“Hello, this is… Hajime Hinata. The date is… I have no idea what the date is. It’s been 14 days, 9 hours, 47 minutes and 24 seconds since we woke up from the Neo World Program.”

“…I don’t know why I said it like that. It’s been about two weeks.” 

“Uhh… I’m not sure what to say here, really. Naegi—Makoto, that is—told me this would be a good way to get my thoughts down. That way if there’s anything I forget, or anything I want everyone to know after… Well, I don’t think I can really forget anything. Even if I wanted to, I don’t think I could.”

“Sorry there are so many quiet gaps. I’m trying to think about what I want to say... I guess I’ll start with the facts, and we can go from there. I was the first person to wake up, and then Sonia. Kazuichi took a few hours longer, he was so… his limbs were so scarred. I could barely tell the healthy tissue apart from all of the burns and cuts. When he got out, he just kept screaming and crying, he just kept—“

“Akane was next, but she was barely a shell, too weak, so Makoto put her back under for a few more days before waking her up. She wasn’t in the pod though, we—they moved her to a hospital bed in a different room. This facility really has everything. You wouldn’t believe the scale of the medical equipment, Tsumiki would love it—“

“Basically, Akane woke up a week after Kazuichi, technically, and then we put her into a medical coma for a while. We as in… I didn’t do that. I mean, I did, but it didn’t feel like me.”

“Actually, I never feel like… me. I don’t know who me is supposed to be now. I’m still him—I mean, I’m still me—but I’m not me— fuck, this doesn’t make any fucking sense, I just can’t— Sonia, don’t touch me—“

“…”

“…I want my mom. I don’t remember the last time I wanted my mom. I don’t even… remember my mom, anymore.”

“…Patient 5, Kuzuryu Fuyuhiko. We plan to wake him from his induced medical coma today, following complications from his enucleation operation directly after awakening from pod sleep. There was an infection at the area of operation and I deemed it too dangerous to continue until it was cleared. Naegi had some objections, but his background is not medical, and does not always need to be taken into account. Patient 4 will simply have to wait.”

“He still has the damn thing.”

“…they all do.”

“Alter Ego, end recording.” Hajime slumped back against his chair, bringing a hand up to push his hair back. It was a newly acquired habit, one always accompanied by the feeling of missing something, like there wasn’t enough hair to run through his fingers. He hated it. Hated thinking that it wasn’t newly acquired at all, that whoever he was in the past few years did it all the time. 

That hadn’t gone nearly as well as he’d liked. These voice diaries were supposed to be records so they could explain things easier to the others once they all woke up, something to jog their memories. Privately, he was sure that Makoto had asked him to make them more for his own sake, as if they’d help somehow with all of the different thoughts running through his brain all of the time. If he spoke them out loud, then somehow they’d disappear. It was the compromise they’d settled on after Hajime had refused to attend Future Foundation-provided therapy. Most of the time they turned out exactly like this, not suitable for anyone’s ears except his own. 

Makoto was an idiot. Talking about it wasn’t going to stop the constant streams of thought in his brain, analyzing every thing and every action around him, picking apart the movements of his friends and their slight changes in tone, detecting every potential threat and every potential weapon for killing someone—fuck.

He was so tired of dreaming up all the ways people could die. His rare moments of sleep were already haunted by spears and giant Tetris blocks, by fire and poison and terrified faces. He didn’t need more deaths on his mind, constant echoes of terrors of his own creation. 

Sitting up properly, he stretched his arms out before standing up to examine his half of the room. At least two people kept watch in the pod room at all times, waiting for anyone to wake up next and making sure nobody died. It reminded him of the hospital in the simulation, someone always watching over Akane and Ibuki and—

An alarm beeped and Sonia, on the other end of the room, startled awake in her own chair. She had stayed on that side after Hajime shoved her away earlier, eventually drifting to sleep by Gundham’s pod. It was the one she stared at the most, blue eyes alight with grief and fury, even if she wouldn’t admit it. She was better off than Hajime, at least. One of his eyes stayed empty. Makoto had warned him that she shouldn’t be allowed to spend so much time with Gundham, but he could never bring himself to pull her away. Clearing his throat, he waited for the former princess to look up towards him. 

“Shift change. You should go sleep in an actual bed, I can wait for Kazuichi and Makoto if you want to go on ahead.” She shook her head, fingers trailing over the glass coffin holding the Ultimate Breeder. 

“No, that’s alright. You’ve been here long enough, you need to rest before Fuyuhiko. It’s only a few more hours away. Besides, I…” Sonia trailed off, gaze shifting to the pod next to Gundham’s, covered with a sheet. Everyone had to be checked on, but there was just one person Hajime couldn’t stand to see. The only person in the room that caused his dead eye to come to life. 

He couldn’t identify the emotion, but it had to be hate. It had to be, right?

At least he knew he wouldn’t be judged for it. Everyone had someone they couldn’t look at in this room, couldn’t face directly. Hajime was just the only one weak enough to require a sheet covering the pod. The only one who couldn’t be controlled if he had a fit of anger, or worse—one of despair. 

Swallowing back bile, he nodded, making a quick exit from the room to the quarters right next door. A large room had been set up with beds and necessities for them, the six that were here and constantly switching out. Kyoko had suggested separate rooms, but after multiple nights of Kazuichi sneaking into his room or Sonia screaming in her sleep from across the hall, Hajime had fought for them to all be together. Makoto, almost with a child-like excitement, had insisted that he, Kyoko, and Aoi stay there too. 

The lucky student in question had been sitting on the floor cross-legged when he walked in, laptop resting on a knee while he glared down at the screen. A glare from Makoto wasn’t usually all that effective, but whatever he was seeing seemed to be genuinely pissing him off. If Hajime had been anyone else, he wouldn’t have bothered disturbing the younger. Still, someone had to go fill in for him with Sonia until Kazuichi took over for her. The mechanic was nowhere to be seen—probably sitting at Akane’s bedside, as usual. Tapping Makoto gently on the shoulder, Hajime waited for him to look up from the email he had been so focused on. 

“Oh, you’re back! Has it been six hours already? I didn’t even notice.” It wasn’t a long time to spend watching the pods, but Aoi had insisted. They had three pairs switching out, and she didn’t want anyone spending more time in the pod room than they did outside of it, in the fresh air and the real world—or so she said. Hajime was sure it had more to do with her growing concern for the five of them, Kyoko and Makoto included. While they hadn’t been in the program nearly as long, they still seemed just a bit too pale to her. As for himself, Sonia, and Kazuichi… Aoi had never known them before, but worried nonetheless about irreparable damage. 

“Yes, I’m back. Will you find Kazuichi and tag Sonia out? She’s just finishing check-ups.” The shorter nodded, shutting his laptop and standing from his seat on the floor. “Everything alright?”

“It’s just Byakuya, he’s facing some problems bringing the medical equipment we need over to the island. The Future Foundation doesn’t see the need to care for some of the pre-existing conditions your class has, they’re just barely allotting enough supplies for taking care of the… last bits of Junko. It’s like you aren’t even humans to them, they just have no empathy!” Makoto rubbed his temples, forcing a weak smile onto his face. It hadn’t escaped Hajime that the bright-eyed boy that they had met in the final trial and the tired man before him right now seemed so far apart from each other. Because of us—because of me. 

“We aren’t human to them.” He placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to offer some comfort. “But we are to you. You’re the best of them, Makoto. I know you’ll work things out.” The younger’s smile twisted, not exactly happy, and he nodded in response. 

“Right. The Ultimate Hope, that’s me. I have to be able to fix this.” Hajime raised an eyebrow, not meaning that at all, but Makoto was already walking out of the room to take over watch duties. That had gone… stunningly bad. Whatever part of his soul had been able to produce hope for the others in the Neo World Program had been hiding, his mind and body too used to the actions and words of another. Another who had no idea how to give someone hope for the future, much less comfort someone just the slightest bit. All Hajime seemed to be good at these days was making things worse. 

A warmth squeezed around his hand, like someone urging him to stop thinking, and he yanked it away from—from nothing. There was nobody there. He just needed to get some rest before Fuyuhiko’s surgery today. 

Two beds remained empty, waiting for their last members. Akane was awake, but still too weak to leave her hospital bed, and Fuyuhiko would join them today. Hopefully. Sitting on his own perfectly made bed, he wondered if all of the remnants would end up sharing a room for the rest of time. The three of them awake so far had their nightmares, some worse than others, and it was impossible to imagine the rest being able to sleep easy after all that had happened. It was too easy to imagine everyone around the room, as if their spaces were already there waiting for them. Glancing around, Hajime could imagine each and every one of them smiling at him, if he could just bring them all back, if he could just wake them up. 

A flash of pink and white hair danced at the corner of his eyes, a gentle smile and a false one, and he slammed his head down on the bed, covering his vision with a pillow. Sleep now, hypotheticals later. Hypotheticals that could never, ever be reality anyways. It was dangerous to get lost in thoughts of a happy ending. 

He didn’t deserve an ending just yet. There was too much to fix. 

[yukispike]

happy smiles from yuki! all is well. [via x and x]

[cacw]

if bucky has to have a pet it's gotta be when he's in a better mental state and it's gotta be a dog that's as tall as him when it stands up

[indiestar]

Where is my ring?

Not just the one made of gold, but the invisible one—the circle I thought I stood in, the one that felt safe, unbroken, whole. Where is it now? Did I lose it, or did it slip away when I wasn’t looking?

Sometimes, I wonder if I even need it anymore. Maybe rings aren’t meant to last forever. Maybe they’re meant to roll away, to expand into something bigger.

And maybe—just maybe—I’m meant to find a new one. One I shape myself. One that fits this new version of me.

But still, I ask: Where is my ring?

[broodwoof]

y'know, fenris' hair in da2 is interesting bc it serves to cover up some of the lyrium tattoos. idk if the forehead dots were actually part of his model in that game or if they were added later, but either way - it serves a distinct purpose. he can't hide them all but he does hide those he can

just an interesting bit of food for thought

[spotsupstuff]

How/Who is Capers next mechanic after Sparrows? Did Sparrow leave anything behind for the next mechanic?

probably some poor ass higher circle twink that has No fuckin idea why this supposedly cheery happy-go-lucky Iterator is so dark and brooding and depressed. and (after Sparrows dies, cuz the 3rd would come in Ways before that) why is the energy constantly FUCKIN fluctuating, this instability is HARDLY fuckin HEALTHY what the HELL IS GOING ON IN HERE

he would have some meetings with Sparrows so she could give him some pointers, explain how certain Euros-specific things work (Euros Is build to be the Phone Operator Chief n all that so his comm systems are special), where she left off when it comes to perfecting the structure and prolly would tell him a little about who Euros as a person is as well. the meetings wouldn't be that plentiful or fruitful later down the line since she.. starts going senile and all that

Sparrows leaves behind a trainwreck of a man (physically absolutely Great condition, but oh gods the feels) so the 3rd Mechanic has to somehow deal with That all by himself. which is hard cuz Euros won't talk about it with some stranger that cannot be trusted with their secret. the 3rd is probably kind enough, genuinely worried, but still kind of a prick n not nearly as empathetic, humble and casual as Sparrows was. i imagine him with a nasal voice and a "uhhh.... actually-???" attitude most of the time

[thereareeyesinsidethetrees]

the entirety of Death of An Optimist by Grandson can be applied to Ford. hear me out

Death of an Optimist // Intro - this can be a few different things- stan mourning him after accidentally trapping him in the multiverse, ford's mindset after stan broke his project, or ford's mindset after bill's betrayal/while he's in the multiverse. the rising intensity at the end, just to suddenly cut off makes me think of ford's rising anxiety/paranoia as weirdmaggedon draws closer

In Over My Head - ford being pressured all his life to do incredible things (getting famous/making millions, creating an interdimensional portal in just a year, attempting to kill bill, etc.) and the increasing stress that comes with it

Identity - this can be two different things i think (both at once?). ford after stan broke the project and was kicked out and/or ford post-portal. not entirely knowing who is, especially once he's in the portal, resigning himself to just 'destroy bill' and nothing else

Left Behind - 'i'm feeling like i don't have a reason to believe in' and 'i don't wanna move on, but i don’t wanna get left behind'. again, it's the pressure of having to do incredible things and do them quick. have you ever noticed how quickly he dropped everything to focus on the portal? One year. he was working himself to death

Dirty - the difference between ford and bord (or just bill in general). ford encompasses the first bits of lyrics- for example, ‘is it time to lead-?’, ‘is it time to speak up-?’, ‘is it time for peace-?’ and of course ‘is there anybody out there that’s paying attention?’. bord (bill) encompasses the second half- ‘or is it time to die?’, ‘or is it time for silence?’, ‘or is it time for violence?’. a conversation between the two, with ‘tell me, what you tryna hide?’ and ‘and what you running from inside?’. the chorus being entirely from ford

The Ballad of G and X // Interlude - the ballad of ford and bill. really just listen to the lyrics- lines like ‘he’s in my head, he makes me sick, he makes me antisocial’ and ‘losing my mind, i wanna find a way to keep composure’ and ‘i try to close my eyes, i’m haunted in my nightmares’ for example

We Did It!!! - ford with bill’s influence. ford and also bord at times. ford and also if bill can change his vocabulary, who’s to say what else was changed? who’s to say there’s not shards of yellow buried deep in ford’s mind like sea glass hidden beneath sand?

WWIII - Ford's experience with the portal (seeing as he was essentially trapped in a 'war' between Bill's side and everyone opposing him). in this interpretation, 'when you ship me off to war' turns into 'when you pushed me through that portal'

Riptide - ford struggling with guilt, regret, and self-loathing. struggling to picture himself in this happy ending, even though he so badly wants to. ‘i tried getting better, did all of the twelve steps. whoever would’ve thought, whoever could’ve guessed? the harder that i chase it, the further that it gets’ and ‘i’ve been caught up in the riptide, for too long cause it’s all i know’

Pain Shopping - ‘i just wanna fuck my hand up, through the wall- i need help, no one there to stand up when i call’, ‘looking for the proof that i’m still alive, i wanna feel something. cause all that i’ve got is nothing’, ‘i’m feeling all this pressure, it’s a weight on my shoulders. i thought that it would all be great when i’m older’, and ‘never mind my heavy mind, i’ll get in line, i’ll get behind. and every time i said i’m fine, whatever, i meant never mind’. ford struggling with his mental health. feeling pressured and alone with him not wanting his family to know how much he’s struggling

Drop Dead - ford and stan. everything feels terrible and we’re not entirely sure what to do about it, but at least we’re in it together right?

Welcome to Paradise // Outro - unhealthy coping mechanisms. ford pretending that he’s perfectly fine and happy to his family. ‘you ain’t gotta hurt no more. didn’t you hear? the war’s over. just don’t look behind that door. you don’t wanna get that much closer.’ the ‘you’ is both ford trying to convince himself and stan that everything’s okay. ‘conversation with my echo’

i would really recommend listening to all of these if/when you have time, especially since i couldn’t cover all the lyrics in one post. maybe i’ll go over each lyric sometime in the future, but for now i think these were enough to explain what i meant

[sadnessisavegetable]

Mutual Understanding

"Well if your weight hadn't yanked my prosthetic off, you wouldn't have been thrown like that! You know I can tell when you do stuff on purpose, Ghirahim!" Bear scolded.

"Well, maybe you shouldn't have lost your arm!" Ghirahim shouted.

Bear turned back with a speed and fury Ghirahim had never seen out of him before. Ghirahim flinched back.

"It wasn't my choice." Bear spoke quietly.

"I'm sorry, I-I shouldn't have said that. I know that I shouldn't have said that. Please, please don't hurt me." Ghirahim begged, backing away slowly as his arms trembled.

Bear didn't move.

Ghirahim stared back at him with fear and trauma flashing through his eyes, reliving some of his worst memories.

And Bear stood still.

Bear softening the expression on his face to be open and understanding, getting down to his knees, making sure that his hands were empty. He was making himself small, less threatening. It was a difficult feat despite Bear's diminutive stature, because Bear had been hardened by the world around him and worked as a mercenary assassin.

Ghirahim eventually collapsed to his own knees, tears starting to form in those dark, dark eyes. Ghirahim, the Spirit of the Demon Sword, forged by Demise Himself on Death Mountain when the world was new, was fragile from past scars.

And they knew it deep in their souls.

Bear had gone through trauma in a similar way, but there were gaps in his memory, blots on his mind to stop his own understanding of what he had endured. Bear was...an abomination by the standards of most cultures in Hyrule, he had blood of Termina, of the Ikaan people. But he also had Twili blood and some amounts of Gerudo-Hylian while being a man who was once a woman. And that made him low enough to be a slave in some peoples' eyes.

Bear was missing limbs from being abused physically and sexually.

Ghirahim had the memories of something similar that he relived every time someone moved wrong.

Bear started to sing, the low Twilit language rumbling through his small body. He sang a lullaby about healing, the song originally from Termina, and the words wove a spell that rested on Ghirahim like a warm blanket. Ghirahim started to calm down and come back to reality.

"I won't touch you unless you direct me to, Ghirahim." Bear told his sword so gently. Ghirahim almost cried harder, out of relief, at the understanding of how love should be, at the simple declaration of respect.

"You can touch me, hold me if you want. As long as you don't touch skin on anything except my hands and maybe my face." Ghirahim gave the permission and Bear approached on his knees, never making himself bigger. He couldn't risk frightening Ghirahim again.

"I only want to gently hold your hands and tell you it is alright. We will work this through slowly, you and I together. I need to heal too." Bear reassured Ghirahim while he held his hands reverently, his light eyes captivated by Ghirahim's feelings genuinely showing, plain and easy to see as the day.

Ghirahim could see the heat pits that Bear used mainly for hunting and the gently glowing Ikaan sunspots that were working away to make energy for Bear, and he could see just how focused Bear's eyes actually looked compared to the other Twili people he'd seen. Bear's natural features mingled in such a way that he was an oddity, but he was still so beautiful.

Bear could now see the cracks that enveloped parts of Ghirahim, all filled in a shade of bronze with white lacing through. He could see the uncertainty held in the quiver of Ghirahim's brow, and the subtle reminders that he and Fi were alike but so very different. His form, crafted expertly by a god of madness and destruction, made to hold him...was ruined by Ghirahim's own missing self-esteem.

"You're beautiful." Bear murmured to Ghirahim finally as he made eye contact with the sword spirit. "Beautiful and tragic, and I would never had the gall to harm that."

Ghirahim almost smiled at that. Bear was doing his best to be kind when he usually didn't need to.

"You're beautiful too. You are so perfectly chaotic in form, yet so peaceful in that chaos. It's inspiring and I would not hurt you either because you are different from everyone I've ever been touched by or used by." Ghirahim whispered, his voice so quiet, as though he was trying to stop the gods from hearing him.

Bear did smile at that, sharp fangs with slight serration peering from behind his lips as he did. This smile wasn't menacing or cruel or even a threat.

This smile was one of trust and adoration.

Bear never showed his teeth in their natural state to anyone, he typically wore a glamour to hide just how sharp they were because of the response he would usually get from people.

But he trusted Ghirahim. And Ghirahim trusted Bear.

So Bear smiled openly. And Ghirahim thought about showing him his truest form.

"Don't freak out. But...this is the form I take to...y'know, be a little vain. But I want to show you my true form." Ghirahim told Bear softly, hesitantly.

"You don't have to, if you don't want to. All in good time, as I tend to say. I just hate using magic energy, it makes me exhausted, and I give less of a shit about showing teeth." Bear shrugged, gently pushing Ghirahim's hair back to see his other eye.

Ghirahim smiled and nodded.

[raining-tulips]

I'd been seeing 555 and 444. change is coming. things always change in august, and this year is no different.

the universe is asking for surrender - it hasn't asked in a while. so the best I can do is surrender.

[pianocat939]

You know what-

I just-

I’m gonna try to live out how much I’m cringing by sharing the link to my cringe ✨AeStHetiC✨ story I wrote as a 13 year old-

For future notice, I didn’t take it seriously, and I literally tried to bullshit my way through-

So yeah have a laugh

Because I can’t even read three paragraphs without wanting to go stabby stab on my eyes/hj

[dandelionjack]

session with the psychiatrist today and he finalised getting me a s*roquel prescription… upon a google i discovered that one of the most common side effects is supposedly weight gain so now i am actually considering the preferred alternative option of recovery which is k*lling m*self