#caretaker having a breakdown

[letitbehurt]

An immortal/self-healing Whumpee with nothing to show for the months of torture they endured.

[belovedwhump]

sometimes all you need is a good cry and then you're good to go again

[cloudmancy]

how ARE we feeling about raphanielcolin everyone

[sweetlacerations]

whumper accidentally getting attached to their (held against their will) whumpee, and having the worst breakdown ever seen when caretaker takes whumpee away

[cas---2y5]

.

[notdexterousatall]

Have you ever had this thing happen, where you're going through some kind of crisis - mental or physical health wise, or even socially or something else - and one of your parent's friends comes up to you to tell you about how YOUR crisis is affecting your parent? Like, going out of their way to pile on about how the negative effects of what you're dealing with is impacting your parent.

Because it's happened to me, and let me say... it always seems particularly impertinent(?) I think it's the best word to describe it. Because, yeah, I KNOW that my crisis is having a negative effect on the people who care about me. And that sucks. But it's also MY crisis, and you know who is feeling the principal negative impact of whatever it is? It's me, dude. I don't need or deserve to have some outside observer come tell me to be more thoughtful about the impact on my parents with no consideration for me. (And, even if whoever this person maybe does care about the impact of whatever the crisis is on me, it sure feels like they don't when they come to me specifically to talk about the impact of my personal crisis on someone else.) I've got enough on my plate.

Anyway, this post is also about Jason Todd and Bruce Wayne. This is what I think of whenever I see someone talk about Jason needing to consider the impact of his death on Bruce. He fuckin' DIED, my guy. No matter how much it sucked for Bruce, Jason does not need to be considering Bruce's feelings about it before his own.

[ding-dong-the-bitch-is-dead]

@north-peach @halfagone

Prompt 102

 Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath. In for ten seconds, out for eight. Alright. Okay. “Let me get this straight,” he didn’t motion to the three teens- or not teens even if two apparently looked like they were- but it was a close thing. “You-” 

 Phantom perked up, white hair flickering with what he was pretty sure were stars as they turned away from the window looking out into space. “-are two years old.” The fae-esque being who looked more like a fourteen year old gave a half-distracted nod. Which, for a toddler, they were paying attention pretty well. 

 “You-” Klarion looked up from where he was fiddling with the cuffs that had been on him, cat sprawled on his shoulder now that it was out of the carrier. “-are six?” Another distracted nod, the apparently-child seemingly enamored with the sounds the cuffs made when they clinked together. 

  “And you-” He turned towards Marvel, who shrank back before seemingly steeling themself. “-are in fact ten.” The… well they had thought demigod but apparently all three were some sort of realms-being, which had apparently made Constantine pale and start cursing before stomping out of the Watchtower. Another nod and shaky thumbs up. 

 Alright. Okay. They had in fact let a ten-year old join the league, which wouldn’t have been so bad if they had known. Especially the fact that apparently Marvel was only half-human, which suddenly explained so much about how he didn’t know so many things about a human life. Which-

 “You,” he turned towards Phantom again to make sure he was listening before returning his attention to Marvel. “And you have both lived at least a year in the human realm with human companions, but your-” He turned his gaze towards the ravenette in the center. The six year old apparently. “-experience with the human realm is literally just with the Light.” 

 Yet another distracted nod. Okay. Bruce was tempted to scream in a room for the entire situation that had cropped up from the single action of taking Klarion’s familiar and then the boy himself into custody. Then again, it was honestly a much better thing they had apparently caught this. 

 “Alright,” he sighed, suddenly feeling incredibly exhausted. “To make sure I have all of this correct-” Because it was already a shitshow and the amount of shouting had absolutely spooked the child. To the point he’d- according to Marvel- made what was apparently some sort of very distressed noise that had made both him and Phantom running. Or rather flying and portaling. 

 “-in the realms, people there make friends through fighting,” Bruce pauses to make sure he got that part correct. The origin of this entire misunderstanding with the chaos-lord. Lordling? 

 All three nodded, Klarion losing interest in the cuffs and starting to pet his cat. Familiar. Everyone had referred to it as a familiar and Marvel had appeared utterly horrified that they had taken said familiar away. Somehow he was the one the trio were currently trusting and weren’t doing the same towards any of the other league members. 

 “And you have been trying to make friends with the Jr team, which they have been taking as an attack due to this miscommunication.” Honestly they should have gotten more information, though he couldn’t exactly blame any of the teens, what with everything they were currently dealing with. 

 “... is there any sort of guardian or something you might have, that can be contacted? Or anyone that could help prevent a situation like this from happening again?” All three avoided his eyes, suddenly finding things like the table and walls very interesting. 

 Oh. Hm. This could be a problem.

[kryaaas]

I think its important to remember that harry's noticable mental decline happened just in the last 4 months

Jean words seem to imply that harry started wearing "disco" clothes fairly recently too

All these years Harry wasnt some wildcard who just did whatever he wanted nor Jean was his caretaker. He had such a violent breakdown because he was so heavily repressing himself, fully dedicated to his work but also becoming more and more disillusioned with it. He is not even drinking or taking drugs for *himself*, he is doing his for his *job*, to be able to achieve better results, save more people, solve more cases despite his work wearing him thin.

"Half the town will be dead" Harry is worried that if he isnt going to give his all to the case regular people will suffer the consequences. Part of the appeal of drinking or taking drugs, gameplay-wise, is that it makes the passing the checks so much easier. So Harry is not even wrong, like there is much higher chances to get an innocent civilan killed in the tribunal if you dont have alcohol or drugs to assist you. is his sobriety really worth risking people's lives?

He did his best to be a good cop, help people as much as he could and had fewer kills about possible

all of this + seasonal depression + realizing that his job doesnt actually make any difference + capitalism + his mind and body not handling the strain he has put himself through for years resulted in Harry's breaking point

[hurtcember]

Above is the official Hurtcember 2024 prompts list.

Below are alternative prompts in case one doesn't want to do a few of the prompts (but still do the whole challenge) or for those who just want to write/draw more.

Both lists are typed out at the bottom of this post.

RULES 1. You can write/draw for any fandom or pairing 2. You can write/draw SFW or NSFW content, just label it accordingly 3. Please tag any Tumblr posts sharing your prompt fills with #hurtcember2024 so that we can find and repost them 4. If you post your works to AO3, please add them to this collection and add "Hurtcember" and/or "Hurtcember 2024" to the additional tags of your prompt fill(s) 5. The challenge officially starts on December 1st but feel free to write/draw before then and/or submit things after the month ends officially, whatever works best for you 6. Be kind to other participants 7. You DO NOT have to do every single prompt if you don't want to. The point is to have fun and spark creativity, not to feel like you're doing a chore

Prompts List (Text Copy) 1. Collapse 2. Breakdown 3. Blood 4. Scars 5. Faint 6. Touch-Starved 7. Abandoned 8. Cuddle 9. Exhaustion 10. Touch Aversion 11. Caretaking 12. Cry 13. Nightmare 14. Near Death 15. Trauma 16. Bruise 17. Concussion 18. Fatigue 19. Desperate 20. Panic 21. Afraid 22. Self-Harm 23. Bed-bound 24. Dissociate 25. Accident 26. Guilt 27. Pain 28. Captive 29. Dehydration 30. Dizzy 31. Hyperventilation

Alt Prompts List (Text Copy) 1. "Don't leave" 2. "Help me" 3. "Leave me alone" 4. "It's my fault" 5. "Take my hand"

[nuclearnyx]

it’s been a weird couple of weeks lemme tell ya

[weirdlookingsnakewithlegs]

Seekers are natural caretakers.

It comes with being in a trine, with being in a flock. It comes with being a Winglord especially, so I imagine in TFP Starscream is so jittery, he needs something to fuss over. He doesn’t have his trine anymore and his remaining seekers are all scattered around the universe.

The need to preen and fuss and groom grabs onto him and refuses to let go. Often times he’d find himself looking over Knock Out or Soundwave, on rarer occasions Megatron or Breakdown, searching for gunk. He eyes their joints for anything stuck between them and sometimes he’ll reach out to itch something off only to pull his servo away when he catches himself.

I imagine Soundwave is the first to fully understand, he understands the need to fawn and fuss and care for others, Lazerbeak was prime proof that he understands. So he hands her to Starscream, making some lie that she was hurt on her last scout and needs a watchful optic while he’s busy. He almost doesn’t expect Starscream to jump at the offer.

And that’s how it starts, because when Lazerbeak returns to Soundwave at the end of the cycle she’s about eight times cleaner and seems rather happy about her visit. Primus she’s even covered in fresh polish and Soundwave hasn’t seen the cassette so excited. She shows Soundwave everything, the overzealous grooming, the careful polishing in which Starscream had to very gently hold her steady, and they even played.

It nearly blows Soundwave away, he hadn’t expected such gentleness from the seeker, he hadn’t expected the seeker to take it so seriously either. Well, he had his suspicions, but this is much more than what he thought.

And it just starts with grooming, before Soundwave knows it, Starscream is catching scraplets for the cassette. When the seeker first brings one he almost thinks it to be alive, its frame slightly twitching after he dropped it on Soundwave’s desk. Though, the energon leaking from its frame and the crashed in helm make him realize otherwise. Lazerbeak isn’t sure what to make of it as well and it’s a standstill until she, before Soundwave can stop her, sips up some of the leaking energon.

She loves it.

And it doesn’t take long before Starscream is almost always focused on her, foreground and background. Soundwave often finds Starscream staring at Lazerbeak while she rests against his chassis during their conversations. He senses Starscream’s worry in his EM field every time Lazerbeak is on recon. And Lazerbeak soaks up the attention like nothing else, happy chirps going back and forth between seeker and cassette.

Something about catches Soundwave’s spark but he stays quiet, happy with watching for now.

[whumpster-dumpster]

A tough, stoic whumpee with an equally tough, stoic caretaker. Caretaker who's on their same level, who can see the cracks forming in their stoicism when no one else can. Caretaker giving Whumpee permission to break down after everything they've been through because it's just them. If anyone understands, it's them. They won't judge. They'll keep it together for the both of them (and then have a private solo breakdown about it later where Whumpee can't see because it hurts so much to see their strong friend crack and crumple like that)

[newbornwhumperfly]

athena…how dare you break my heart this wayyyyyyyy 😭😭🥺🥺😭😭

every chapter of this au causes me to cry but this chapter is just??? the parallels between morja and gavin as weapons choosing to be humans who can grow and love??? morja trying to be good at all costs because everything is a test and he’s always failing?? the EDRISSA AND ISAAC ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION PARALLEL (jfc athena that fucking HITS) 😭😭😭

fuck, man, isaac saying “i have to do this” and “they’re not gonna be safe as long as you’re around” because he sees himself in morja and isaac never thinks he himself is fully safe or able to keep his family from harm…they are the same and they are lost, what does that say about how isaac sees himself…💔💔💔

but morja’s breakdown at the end was the most piercing scene…how he’s so exhausted and shaken and overwhelmed that he breaks down in gavin’s knee while gavin strokes his hair because he understands and he uses hands morja was most afraid of to soothe his terror??? are you trying to murder me because that tenderness cut me to the bone 😭🥺😭

“I’m not what they made me and neither are you.”

oh. oh. oh. 😭💔🥺💖 yeah. that’s it.

To Die Without Flinching

Many thanks to @newbornwhumperfly for being so generous in letting me put their boy Morja in Situations, and many apologies to them as well for holding onto this story for so many months while waiting for me to finish it.

My masterlist

Morja is a diathésimos, one of a class of indentured servants owned by society’s elite - though some would call them slaves. He has been tasked with a mission of critical importance by his anóteros: to infiltrate a dangerous family that has taken refuge in the north, and kill the criminal that they are harboring: Gavin Stormbeck.

“It is your part to kill me, mine to die without flinching.”

— Epictetus, from Discourses (Translated by Robert Dobbin)

Your Part to Kill | My Part to Die | To Die Quietly | Despair | Dawn | Breakfast Part 1 | Breakfast Part 2 | To Die Without Flinching

Contents: recovery, PTSD, conditioned whumpee, tied up, blindfolded, attempted murder, false execution, rescue

~

After weeks with this family, Morja now moved freely among them. When they left the house in the morning to do their chores, he left with them, eager to help. When they returned in the evening to cook dinner together, he joined them, learning the skill of which spices to mix together to create the flavors that pleased them all. When he returned to his room at night, he went without a lock on the door. He slept in the bed, now. He didn’t fear what might happen to him in it. 

This team, this family, they were kind to him in a way he had never experienced before. He knew they were dangerous, but he wanted - so, so badly - for them to trust him, so that they might always turn their kind eyes on him forever. Their patience for each other seemed to know no limits, and they always seemed to want to be together. They never raised their voices or their hands to each other, or to him. Even when he could tell they were angry, they never did what he knew in his bones should happen; they never tied his wrists and whipped him until their tempers were eased. That always made his anóteros feel better. And yet, they refused to do it to him. 

He didn’t understand it. 

Still, when Isaac Moore called him to the barn one day, he couldn’t help but feel a prickle of unease. A few weeks of strangeness could not undo a lifetime of lessons, after all. But when Isaac called him, he went. He obeyed.

“Yes, Isaac Moore, is there something you need?” he said, keeping his gaze on the floor of the barn. Even if Isaac was a diathésimos like him, he was still uncollared and freed. Morja must always show him deference and respect. 

“Yes,” Isaac Moore said, his voice flat. A shiver moved up Morja’s spine as Isaac moved to block the barn door. His eyes were dull, his hands in fists at his sides. 

The hair on the back of Morja’s neck stood up. “Please… tell me what it is I can do for you,” he said, though lips that were beginning to go numb. His lungs were too large for his ribcage.

Isaac Moore finally raised his gaze and met Morja’s. Isaac’s eyes burned into Morja’s as he said, “Put your hands behind your back and get on your knees.” His right hand was behind his back, reaching for his waistband.

Morja did not even consider disobeying. His fell to his knees with a crack, crossing his arms at the wrists behind him. “Y-yes, diathésimos,” he croaked. 

Isaac’s face hardened as he stepped forward. Morja sucked in a breath and forced himself perfectly upright. His hands quaked behind him, despite the fists he was making. When Isaac Moore stepped behind him and bound his wrists together, he let out a terrified breath. When a rough strip of cloth was tied over his eyes, he uttered a shameful sound of fear. 

His throat was too dry to swallow with. His chest was too tight to breathe with. His mouth hung open and he tilted his head, desperately listening for Isaac Moore’s next move. When the cold metal of Isaac’s gun pressed against the back of his head, he folded over his knees with a shudder.

“Don’t move,” Isaac ground out.

“Y-yes, diathésimos,” Morja sobbed dryly. He understood, now, he saw it all. It had all been a test somehow, and he had failed. This was the cleanest end he could hope for: a bullet in his brain, a shallow grave behind the farmhouse that had been his unwitting prison for all these weeks. Had the test simply been to see if he could figure out that he had been a captive at all?

Had his anóteros set this all up to punish him for his failure?

One thing was certain: he was going to die with his anóteros’ collar wrapped tight around his neck.

He pressed his lips together and waited for the white-hot blast, and then the oblivion after. It didn’t come. It didn’t come. Despite Isaac’s admonition, he rocked minutely forward and back, drawing in breaths too shallow to provide enough air. He tried to wait silently. Pitiful whimpers made their way past his lips anyway. 

He was failing.

“I-I need to do this,” Isaac Moore murmured.

Morja nodded frantically, at a loss for what else to do. The gun pressed harder into the back of his head, and he froze.

“You’re a fucking threat to my family. A threat to Gavin.”

Morja couldn’t deny it. He couldn’t deny that he had harbored some small hope that he might one day carry out his mission and make his anóteros proud - but he wanted something else, too, something he couldn’t name. The clash made him sick. 

“You can’t change. You can’t fucking learn, I’ve been watching for the switch to flip and it hasn’t. I need to put you down. I… I see you watching him… and I know that everything he taught you is still in there, because… because for the longest time, it was like that with me…”

Morja couldn’t deny that, either.. He squeezed his eyes shut behind the blindfold and waited to die. 

“I… I have to fucking do this.” The gun pressed harder, then harder still, until it was pinning Morja’s head against the wooden floor between his knees. He felt Isaac adjusting his grip. He heard Isaac shuffle his feet against the floorboards. He drew in a terrified breath, could barely let it out without a groan escaping him. He was trapped, unable to move, unable to speak. He heard Isaac Moore sniff. He was crying. 

“Isaac?”

Morja flinched hard when Gavin Stormbeck’s horrified voice filled the barn.

The gun eased its pressure on the back of Morja’s head. 

“Gavin.” Isaac sounded frightened. 

“What… oh, fuck, did you…? Isaac, what–”

Morja couldn’t help it; when Gavin Stormbeck fell to his knees beside him, when a hand settled in his hair, right next to the gun, he let out a muffled wail of terror.

“Tell me you’re not doing this,” Gavin breathed. His hand was shaking on Morja’s head. “Tell me you didn’t… lure him here so that you could execute him in cold blood.”

“He came here to execute you in cold blood, Gavin,” Isaac snarled. Morja’s body tensed as the gun jammed hard into him. “Don’t–”

“This isn’t you,” Gavin said. “Isaac… this isn’t you. Please tell me this isn’t who you are.”

No one moved or breathed for a long moment. Then Isaac said, “You know this is who I’ve been for a long time.”

Gavin’s hand tightened in Morja’s hair. “Not anymore.”

“But he–”

“He stopped! Like you! How can you look at him and not see you?” Gently, Gavin’s fingers smoothed through Morja’s hair. Horrified, desperate, Morja found himself pressing the side of his head against Gavin’s knee. 

The gun on his head pressed harder, harder, hard enough that Morja knew it would leave a deep bruise. Then, all at once, it disappeared. Isaac Moore stepped back. Heavy footsteps left the barn. 

Morja took a deep, shuddering breath and shook apart into dry, tearless sobs. His head rested on Gavin’s leg, and the syndicate son’s hands rested gently in his hair. 

“Shhh,” Gavin Stormbeck soothed. “It’s alright. You’re safe.”

Morja could no longer pretend. He could no longer be silent. He was so frightened, and confused, but most of all he was so, so tired. He didn’t much care if the syndicate son had a knife waiting for him. All he could feel was the gentleness of the boy’s hands in his hair, the solidity of his leg, and the beat beat beat of his heart that threw itself against his ribs. Gavin slipped the blindfold from his eyes and tossed the cloth into the corner of the barn. Slowly - he used his fingers, not a knife - he worked the knot tying Morja’s hands free.

“You’re safe,” Gavin said again. 

Morja’s fingers clutched at Gavin’s pant leg. “Y-yes, anóteros,” he stammered, desperate to be good, to obey - anything to keep Isaac’s gun from pressing against his head again. “Yes, Gavin Stormbeck–”

“Please don’t call me that,” Gavin whispered. 

Morja’s stomach heaved. His eyes went wide and he buried his face against Gavin’s leg. He shuddered in the moment between inhale and exhale - in the moment between mistake and correction. 

“I… I apologize,” Morja rasped through numb lips. He pushed away from Gavin and pressed his forehead to the floor in front of him, shaking, broken, cold. “Please,” he could not stop himself from saying. “Please.”

Gavin’s hand landed on him again. Morja made a horrible, humiliating bleat of fear, but he did not move. He did not move. He waited. 

“My name is Gavin Uriah,” came the quiet voice. It sounded like Gavin was in pain. 

Morja’s throat worked around a swallow. “I-I…”

“I’m not what they made me. And neither are you.”

Then Gavin’s hand was in his hair again, moving slowly, gently. The touch was so soft that it undid him. Morja crumpled, leaning forward into the touch until his head was in Gavin Uriah’s lap. Dry sobs heaved through him as the fear and pain moved over him and out. He pressed his face into Gavin’s thigh and allowed the touch, allowed the hand in his hair. 

“I’m sorry,” Gavin said quietly. “I’m so sorry.” 

Morja could say nothing in response. His throat was too strained. 

Gavin sat with him in the barn for a long time. He held Morja, waiting until his great, awful sobs had stopped, before he took his arm and led him back toward the house. 

@womping-grounds , @free-2bmee , @quirkykayleetam , @walkingchemicalfire , @inpainandsuffering , @redwingedwhump , @burtlederp , @castielamigos-whump-side-blog , @whatwhumpcomments , @whumpywhumper , @stxck-fxck , @whumps-the-word , @justplainwhump ,  @finder-of-rings , @inky-whump , @thatsthewhump , @orchidscript , @this-mightaswell-happen , @newandfiguringitout , @whumpkitty , @pretty-face-breaker , @cinnamonflavoredhugs , @pebbledriscoll , @im-just-here-for-the-whump , @endless-whump , @grizzlie70 , @oops-its-whump , @kixngiggles, @1phoenixfeather , @butwhatifyouwrite , @carnagecardinal ​, @annablogsposts , @suspicious-whumping-egg , @starfields08000 , @morning-star-whump

[bestlilithian]

Home is the first grave.

[ Moon-Pluto, Pluto in 4th house culture ]

tw for various mentions of abuse and death as well as mental problems, sh and su!cide, also needles (dont ask)

- may have experienced a lot of death in thr family or in the close neighborhood

- feel more connected to your dead relatives than your alive ones

- there mightve been a death in your family before you were born

- feeling peacful in graveyards

- may have fantasized about death/su!cide, might percieve death as something that brings peace (hence the fantasies, because really all you ever wanted was peace)

- wanting peace but knowing you cannot have it because of your nature; feeling like theres just something in your blood in your soul that is uncontrollable and overwhelming

- your household was always a house , never a home

- being raised by very old people, enjoying the presence of much older wiser people (like, literal elders not hot teachers 💀)

- enduring literal psychological warfare in your home (usual your mother waged war on you as soon as you were old enough to form a coherent critical thought)

- "I hate you, dont leave me" (might be the attitude of your mother towards you, or yours towards others you love)

- Your mother always knew when you were lying or hiding something. Especially if she had a scorpio moon or moon/pluto aspects herself. You grew up extremely fearful of her.

- moon pluto culture is hearing your mother talk lovingly about her own fucked up mother, she never accepted the severity of her own abuse, until of course she needs to use it in an argument against you "Im a great mother, my mother was so much worse"(basically Im good because I abuse you differently than I was abused 😍 same shit different package)

- not liking motherly women or women who try to be mother figures to you, feeling uncomofortable around them; youre uncomfortable with how much you crave motherly love and people who can provide you that become threats because of the power they could have over you if you opened up

- being betrayed by the women in your life, especially those who were much older and supposed to take care of you (teachers, tutors, family members, therapists, babysitters..)

- toxic female friends 😁🔫 bonus : really close but toxic female friendships in youth that feel like death when you end them even though you know it was necessary

- feeling pain so deeply you think you will drop dead or have a heart attack. (When I was little and depressed I wrote in a diary of mine "My body will kill me before I get to")

more on this : when you start crying because of immense emotional pain and suddenly your heart is burning and beating too fast and youre getting light headed and throwing up , and suddenly youre not crying because of the pain, youre crying because youre afraid youre about to have a heart attack and die

- fearing that your mother will k word herself or you if you try to leave her (harsh aspects mostly)

- learning what emotional violence is very early, how to wield it and defend against it

- turning your emotions off completely for a while and then having a nervous breakdown when it all rushes back

- reading up on psychology, psychiatry and works of psychotherapists so you can heal and never become your mother

- wanting to put a bullet in your head when you notice yourself thinking or behaving like your mother

- going home after you spent time somewhere where you felt good and safe is extremely dreadful

- your mother doesnt see you as a human being (harsh aspects especially), and may take you a while to figure this out

- extremely controlling behavior from your mother or other caretakers (for example my mother threatened to send people to stalk me when I moved to a diff city, to 'make sure Im not doing something bad')

- deeply grieving the loss of your childhood and your inner child

- almost choking while crying or passing out

- feeling like youre a horrible person and dont deserve your family [because youre in deep denial and are seeing the flaws of your family as your own and denying your own trauma]

- learning about sex early on, perhaps early sexual obsession but not like promiscuity more like craving for deep intimacy (also you were probably deeply ashamed of it)

- not telling your family (esp mother) anything because they will ruin it for you

- being accused of being a psychopath, uncaring, selfish for "not loving your family enough"

- not knowing how to feel about the members of your family that played a more passive role in your life because they didnt do anything wrong but they didnt do anything right either; surely they knew , why didnt they stop it? why didnt they save you? (Im talking about adults obviously)

- your parents mightve been much older when you were born, you might have siblings much older than you

- doing anything to avoid your intense emotions and then when you break down and feel everything you realize how freeing it is and how comfortable you actually are with the intensity

- gutteral reactions to songs you deeply relate to (I hear 10 seconds of 'Slipping through my fingers' and I am dead on the floor)

- being afraid of your mother or just of your family in general

- you could probably kill someone with your bare hands if you were angry and hurt enough

- scary as fuck when you actually show your anger

- if you cry in the midst of a fight (verbal or physical) ... someone tell that person to make peace w God . cause thats you crying because of what youre about to do, because thats you loosing the last crumb of humanity you had for them and that can only end one way.

- you would probably kill for your loved ones

- your friends feel like you would help them hide a body (and you probably would)

- recognizing people by footsteps and breathing patterns (especially family members)

- deep deep eyes, people can see war and death them, and they feel like you see their pain too (because you do)

- reading people easily

- enjoying? cruelty (to yourself or others), like getting impulses to do something that would cause you or someone else that ugly feeling of facing cruelty

- finding comfort in the cold and the dark

- insane nightmares since youth, growing to be used to them

- its very hard to shock you

- you know when someones lying

- you might dread certain types of pain yet feel pleasure from them (personally I hate having my blood taken for a test but then I end up immensely enjoying the feeling of a needle pricking my skin and going deep into my vein)

- feeling the need to "kill" some your habits; most likely to drop things cold turkey and be extremely strict in breaking bad habits

- might enjoy really dark, emotionally and morally complex media

- immediately recognizing other moon pluto people and trauma bonding

- extremely good pain endurance. not necessarily tolerance , but endurance. you feel the pain and do it anyway.

- might not react to physical pain at all from a young age

- fantasies about drowning or slipping away peacfully

- either loving deep waters or hating them

- randomly breaking down in the middle of the day because of some pain you buried 5 years ago

- might self harm a lot because of your complex relationship w pain, it genuinely helps sometimes

- home feels like literal prison

- seeing the value in suffering, you might reject the idea that suffering is bad and should be avoided and prevented at all costs

- you might become religious as you mature (but usually in your own way, not necessarily according to tradition)

- forced to eat or denied food in your home, this mightve fucked up your relationship with food

And lastly, I need you to engrave this in yourself :

Wrong love is not love.

[brucewaynehater101]

Well i think that way too skinny tim is part of the problems with the babyfication/infantilization of tim.

Tim is very efficient and would take care of himself almost strictly. It all started with taking the role of one of bruce's caretakers. He couldnt let himself have a sick day when Bruce could be having yet another breakdown. Also realistically with his duty as vigilante he wouldn't let himself go thin.

But in the tall tim drake au. While still going through the growth spurts he would totally go even leaner. As he is not used to eat as much as food, i think in those months Tim would do the cryptid thing just to scare the bats. After he finally stops growing he would bulk up. (Def nothing like Bruce or Jason) more like Dick's type of physique. (Smth like jacob elordi / jack champion irl).

His team would help him with the amount of food he should get. And Tim would grt tired of being treated like a little child who cant go to play if he doesnt finnish his meal.

Anyways how do you think his family would react at Tim going tall as a tower? Especially Jason & Bruce reactions.

Og post here

Hi again!!! I think Tim being way too skinny and not taking care of himself can play into the infantalization. However, I also hc Tim to be the type of person that really struggles to put on weight or muscle mass. I've had some friends/loved ones who ate a fuck ton and still remained bean poles. That's kind of where I'm basing it at.

Tim struggling to put on muscle mass could also play into him not being a natural at Robin's physical skills/needs. Basically, him working really fucking hard to meet the same physical goals as Jason and/or Dick.

For the tall Tim Drake AU, I imagine he wouldn't bulk up quite as much as Dick. At the very least, he'd struggle to obtain as much muscle mass as Dick and maintain it. Jacob Elordi does seem like a good fit for Tim, though. A more lean muscular type but still muscles (Dick's got some huge fucking shoulders. Ripped as hell back).

I'm also down for his muscle mass needing to catch up with his growth spurt. Maybe it takes up to a year for his physique to fully settle after he stops growing taller?

He would be hungry *constantly* though. Poor Tim :'( He'd probably come up with some nutrition plan based on his blood sugar and shit to adequately fulfill his needs. He'll be hella annoyed, though, at all the changes and increased need for nutrients. YJ would definitely be roped into it too.

As far as the Bats...

Alfred: *drops his tray*

Damian: *shocked pikaku face*

Bruce: *mental calculations lady*

Jason: *"nopes" out of there*

Babs: *knew all along*

Dick: *sobbing on the floor*

Steph: *instinctively throws something at Tim*

Cass: *sprints towards Tim to tackle hug him*

EDIT: I did not clarify enough on when specifically Tim's struggles with eating may transfer into infantalization territory.

One, nothing wrong with needing support and help with maintaining adequate self-care. I personally struggle with eating and greatly benefit from someone helping me with this.

Two, I bet all of the Bats, at some point, have needed extra support in self-care matters. Particularly, Dick, Bruce, Babs, and Jason, but I imagine the others have had their times as well.

The issues stem from either a narrative of Tim being "incapable" of caring for himself or a restriction in his autonomy. While Tim may benefit from someone reminding him to eat, preparing meals, leaving him snacks, etc., this doesn't mean his own desires should be ignored. If he doesn't want someone butting into his life to help him with that, then so be it. He's capable of making decisions for himself even if others would disagree with his decisions "for his own good."

Hopefully, that's clearer ^^

[noven-warsh]

Whenever I think about a tired or resentful Caretaker, I imagine an insecure Whumpee trying to "alleviate" their pain and trouble.

Like, Whumpee sees Caretaker grow more and more fatigued during their time together, and so they start trying to take care of themselves. They try to take their medicine without asking Caretaker, they try to comfort themselves after a nightmare or a breakdown. They try to cook by themselves and bathe by themselves. Even if they fail at some aspects, they're still satisfied since it means that Caretaker doesn't have to worry about them anymore.

Whumpee thinks about how Caretaker's probably busy, or how they have their own personal problems to deal with, or how they've probably experienced a good/bad event while trying to take care of them. And so they start keeping their feelings to themselves, not opening up because they don't want to burden Caretaker.

Or suppose the situation escalates to a point where Whumpee believes that their Caretaker shouldn't have to carry the burden of taking care of them, and they decide to run away. Perhaps they stay in the streets, or go to a random person's home, or even one of Caretaker's friends' homes (if they know the street).

But while Whumpee's trying to be selfless and take care of Caretaker's feelings, they don't realize that it's making Caretaker worry about them more.