#i tried to be accurate and sensitive to ptsd but please remember this was very early for me in MIC and I've learned a lot now

[wrongcaitlyn]

okay so ‼️TW‼️ for this ask and off you do not have to answer or read it if you don’t want to please stay safe!

so. i think once in tyt there was a short reference to nico being suicidal and having self harming/self destructive behaviors. i believe maybe it was after he had to jump off the balcony? and will was like “nico did you do that on purpose” and he’s like “no” and it’s “he kept thinking of the time will caught him” or something like that i’m sorry i can’t look at it rn!

BUT

I was wondering if we’re ever going to get an expansion on that or just any mention of it in general.

me personally i would love too see some scar representation but ofc it is your fic and please don’t feel pressured into anything! i totally get if you don’t want to include anything about this.

and i’m very sorry if this made you uncomfortable or that this was triggering for you.

have a good day! and plz don’t feel rushed to respond! ❤️

yes! you are remembering correctly, and do not worry, this isn't uncomfortable/triggering at all to me! in fact, that's actually one of the reasons it wasn't expanded on - i have no experience with self harm/ thoughts of self harm/ being suicidal, and so even though i made those vague references, i felt very unsure about diving any deeper.

also, i started writing this fic when i was still pretty new to writing in general (or at least, i used to write a lot, and then i took a pretty long break, and then i came back with some one-shots, and this was my first really long project in quite a long time), and so i was just really,,, idk not insecure but i was overly cautious about making sure that i wasn't writing anything wrong, especially because i was writing about things that i had no experience with. like, my family's pretty alright, nowhere near abusive, no alcoholics, and despite the depression my mental health's pretty alright, at least at the time i was writing this - and, obvi, the main thing was that i'm not trans, and yet i was writing a trans mc coming from a very abusive household.

so with all of that, i dropped in these references to his freshman year, and very purposefully didn't start in freshman year because i knew that i wouldn't be able to write that accurately (or, at least, i didn't want to risk writing it inaccurately and portraying these very serious topics in a way that might trigger/offend people who do struggle from these things) and started off the fic in a time where nico was mostly in a much better mental state than the year before, but still struggling with those problems - just not as severely(?) as before.

i'm honestly considering/have been considering going back and editing talk your talk (the og fic) just because i think i've grown a lot as a writer while writing that, and there are a lot of, firstly, tiny grammatical errors, and some scenes that i would like to restructure/fix. i might be able to start that this summer, we'll see!

but ANYWAY to answer your question!! i honestly hadn't thought of going more into that, even though i am adding some more detail to nico's current mental health issues/his ptsd. i'm not completely sure about going into *detail* of it, because of the aforementioned reasons; i just think that these kinds of topics are very sensitive and it's not like the kind of stuff you can just, like, google and understand. if i were to add more about sh/past suicidal thoughts, i would definitely want to do more research/look up accounts of people's experience of it, because i'd want to make sure that i'm writing it correctly and not in a way that would just brush aside any of the details, yk?

i also think that, in a way, nico has completely blocked out that time of his life. it was very dark, and he's experienced even more trauma after that, and so it's just something that he tries really hard to avoid/not think about - even though i do think that he talked to mr. d about it at some point.

so the answer, to be honest, is that i don't know, but it's leaning toward a no. now that i think about it, though, i'm not entirely sure if it's realistic for me to just drop that toward the beginning and then never have nico think about it again- so i would have to do more thinking on the topic! thank you so much for bringing this up to me because even though i do remember mentioning it, i never really think about those early chapters anymore, which dealt with some pretty heavy material, even though i tried to stay very vague about it all.

i think that i'll try to include it at some point, and i do have a scene kind of forming in my head that i think i could put it into, but i don't think it will be very detailed, probably staying in the same lane as everything else that i included in the early chapters of talk your talk! thank you for the ask!!

[modern-inheritance]

Modern Inheritance: Night Terrors, pt. 1

WARNING: This story deals with torture flashbacks, several of which are specifically dealing with waterboarding. If these scenes would cause any problems for you, please do not read. I am only basing my portrayal of PTSD on internet research and very little first hand knowledge.

Here it is folks. The two shot that started the current MIC iteration. This was one of my first stories for Modern Inheritance (written in 2016 iirc). As such, it’s not totally in line with the image I have for the series and characters now (Early 2021), but it is a solid baseline and actually pretty damn close. At some point I may rewrite it, but for now, I’m happy with this reminder of changes.)

PART 1 // Part 2

~~~

Arya never really slept well.

True, her sleep got a bit better once they had arrived at Ellesméra, something she was incredibly thankful for, but being able to sleep through every other night without nightmares or a heart pounding night terror ripping her from her waking dreams was still not good enough to be considered ‘sleeping well.’ If it weren’t for those blessed nights of uninterrupted slumber the elf was sure she would be a walking wreck.

So far she had managed to avoid waking anyone else. Islanzadí, surprisingly enough, would occasionally check on her daughter in the middle of the night, and on nights where she found her sitting at the balcony staring at the stars, the queen would join her in silent companionship. It was a sign their relationship was mending, and if Arya was still stuck, mute and fearful, in her dreams, the slender arm that wrapped around her shoulders and soft humming would pull the younger elf from the darker recesses of her mind.

Something about tonight was different, though. As Arya slipped under the comforter on her bed– having finally gotten used to sleeping in it after two weeks of sleeping on a progressively thicker pile of sleeping bags on the floor– she felt a tingle of distant static dart across the pads of her fingers. When she glanced out the doors to the balcony, a far off thunderhead appeared as a purple smear against the orange and pink sunset. Lightning flickered through the cloud, seeming to rent it from corner to corner before it again returned to the color of bruised skin.

'Good. We haven’t had rain in some time.’ The elf thought as she turned on her side and closed her eyes. She tugged the corner of the comforter under her chin and drifted off into her waking dreams, hoping the sway of the tree would lull her into a peaceful sleep.

~

Arya’s waking dreams stuttered. Something had changed in her surroundings, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on until she realized she couldn’t breathe.

Everything felt heavy and damp, especially around her face and definitely over her mouth and nose. It was pitch black and something was clamped over her eyes, shoving her head back against a hard, flat surface. She couldn’t move, no matter how much she internally screamed at her muscles to do so, and with a terrifying jolt she realized she couldn’t breathe either. Warm water gushed into her mouth and flooded her sinuses, panic filling her chest as quickly as the liquid did.

“We can end this here and now, elf.” A cold voice whispered in her ear, and the fall of water against her face halted. The hand over Arya’s eyes lifted and bright light flared across her lids as a sodden cloth was removed. The demon beside the woman let her cough and choke, trying to expel the water in her lungs but unable to while he still pushed her head back with a hand on her clammy forehead. “What say you, hm? A few words are all I want. Speak them to me, and you will be released from this.” He knew she wouldn’t be able to respond, not verbally at least, but that was part of his game. He knew she would never speak.

Using the little leeway he gave her, Arya managed to scowl, spitting water from between her teeth, and shake her head a few millimeters from side to side. Durza sighed mockingly and slapped the wet cloth back down over her face.

“Oh well. Ready to die again, little elf?“

Lightning flashed across Arya’s eyes as she fell from the bed and hit the floor hard, a strangled cry escaping her throat. She scrambled to kick the tangled blanket off of her legs and dove for her pack to rip her sword from where it was tied to the frame.

A clap of thunder rang out as she pulled the blade free just in time to feel her back flare white hot with agony, lines of fire tracing wounds she knew had been healed. It had been weeks since they closed, hadn’t it? Hadn’t it?!

A fist slammed into her side, cracking a rib and sending her to the floor again, sword still clamped in a white knuckled grip.

'Get dressed. Get out of here. Fight.’ The thought was barely registered as Arya scrambled for the combat pants she wore while with the Varden, another line of pain lancing its way up her right arm. For a brief moment, as she struggled to yank the pants on without giving up her sword, she swore she saw blood dripping from her fingers, trailing from a deep gash that revealed the bones and tendons flexing in her forearm.

She dropped her blade for a split second to yank on a standard issue cotton shirt and then snatched the weapon up again. She tore her pistol belt and combat jacket out of her pack, quickly patting the pockets to make sure the pressure bandage and small medkit were still there, and slung both over her arm. Thunder crashed again, followed by a clap of lightning nearby.

Another blow clipped the elf’s shoulder as she dashed for the balcony, nearly shoving her out the open doors before she caught herself on the jamb.

It was raining. Wet spray splashed up into Arya’s face and she recoiled, feeling her throat tighten and her already rapid heartbeat increase. She couldn’t breathe. He chuckled coldly and pushed her off the table with his boot, watching her vomit up water and what little food remained in her stomach as she convulsed on the floor. All that water and yet it still felt as if her lungs were on fire.

Arya could feel another strike coming, another slash from a whip arcing through the damp air. It was either continue facing her invisible attackers or brave the water.

With a savage growl the elf bounded through the doorway and out into the elements, leaping from the balcony to the tier below, the tier below that one, and finally to the ground. She straightened from the crouch she had landed in, then staggered as the raindrops slammed into her back and sent fresh shocks of pain across her skin. The raw wounds– 'How are they open again!'– and exposed nerves registered each and every drop of water as a lightning bolt that seared its way to her brain.

”Giving up so soon? I expected more of you.“ Arya looked up and saw the Shade before her with a mockingly disappointed expression. She bolted to her feet and struck out at his face, only to be thrown against the wall as if she were no more than a child. Stars and lights exploded across her eyes even as she charged him again, refusing to be led like a lamb to slaughter. She fought tooth and nail until he succeeded in pinning her and the whip slammed into her already mutilated back, and the cycle of torture started anew.

And then she was running, sprinting across the elvish capitol, heart pounding in her ears and a knot of terror in her stomach. Everything was wrong, everything was burning. Smoke filled her lungs as she dashed blindly in a direction that, for some inexplicable reason, promised safety.

A bullet suddenly hissed by her ear, cutting through the raindrops with a high-pitched song, then another shot clean through the muscle of her side with a spray of blood. She gasped and stumbled, then spat out the raindrops she had inhaled, coughing as the taste of copper joined the musky flavor of pine smoke. She yanked on her combat jacket, dulling the pain of the raindrops pounding into her skin, and hoped that the woven spider silk plates in the fabric would protect her from any more stray projectiles. 'Where are they coming from? They can’t have gotten here, not in Ellesméra!’

The fire was simply…gone when she slammed into his door, breath coming in quick, painful gasps. The rain still poured down unabated, an explosion renting the night as a cannonbomb detonated behind her and sprayed her wounds with mud. Arya pressed her forehead to the familiar surface and pounded on the door with the pommel of her sword as the ground shook. "Glen!”

There was no answer.

A flash of light to the left made her whip around, looking for the gun from which the muzzle flash had originated, only to feel a blade sink into her stomach.

White hot knives sliced twin, cauterized slits below each one of her ribs. The muscles of her abdomen flexed as she instinctively tried to pull her arms and legs from where they were cuffed to the wall in an attempt to protect her sides and stomach. Durza smiled at her movements, tracing the outline of the toned muscle beneath her tan skin with a finger as he caught her eyes with his. Disgust welled up in her chest, and if she had been able to spit at him she would have. Being without water for two days straight had left her barely able to swallow.

He saw her expression, though, and his smile widened. He leaned forward and pressed his ice-cold forehead to her fevered one, his sharpened teeth glinting in the light cast by the glowing daggers. A bit of horror touched Arya’s heart as she feared the worst. She couldn’t fend off the advances of a Shade, not in the state she was in.

Then she threw back her head and screamed in pain and Durza laughed in glee as the daggers buried themselves halfway to their hilts between her ribs.

The shock sent Arya staggering back to hit the door again. “Glenwing, let me in!” She shouted, kicking the door with her bare heel. “Glen!”

She smelled hot cinnamon mints and burning batteries all interlaced with the pungent scent of motor oil.

And then she realized she could taste them too, and with a jolt she felt a mouth over hers and a weight on her hips and her eyes flared open and she saw him above her. He pulled back and smirked as he wrenched her head to the side by her hair and she immediately coughed up water and blood and bile. “Welcome back to the land of the living, little elf. You need not worry about dying on my watch. Even in the void, you will never escape me.” And he laughed.

Arya let out a choked sob and slid to the ground, her body alight with pain from wounds that should have been nerveless scars and terror that she had never wanted to feel again. “Glen, please…” She leaned against the door, hugging her knees, and beat her head against the wood, trying to chase out the demons in her skull. “Please, I can't–”

There was so much blood. She didn’t even know where he had hit her this time. He had screwed with her perception of pain again, amplifying it until the barest ghost of air on her cheek felt like a hot iron smashing into her face, and set about whipping her with a short bullwhip studded with bits of barbed wire. She had given up on holding in her screams after the first hour and a half. After the fourth she had given up on screaming entirely, her body too weak and her throat too torn to produce sound. And still he cut her and whipped her and kicked her and strangled her, not even asking questions, only seeking to sate the spirits raged within his body.

Then it was black and she tasted the hot cinnamon again, the flavor reminding her of the mints Jörmundur had tried using to curb his smoking after his son was born, and the overwhelming smell of motor oil pervaded her senses. He wasn’t on top of her this time, and she immediately rolled over and dry heaved, spitting and gasping and trying to rid her mouth of the tastes that she now associated with death.

She felt something hot sheeting down the side of her face, hotter than the rain that pounded down inches away. “I can’t…” She whimpered, weakly raising her sword again and knocked the hilt against the door. Pain blossomed on the side of her head, adding the new sensation to the avalanche of agony that was crashing through her battered and bloody body. “I can’t keep…”

A hand grabbed her bruised side– spat blood into his eyes– guard screamed in agony as she slammed her combat boot between his naked legs with a spray of blood– couldn’t hear, couldn’t see, couldn’t taste or smell, it was all silence and nothing– acid sizzled in the trenches of her torn flesh, smelling like cooking meat– knife diving into her stomach over and over, the wounds healing shut after seconds as he methodically stabbed her, grinning like a child at play– pain like that shouldn’t exist– claw shaped iron dipped down– blood, all that blood– his lips on hers as he breathed life into her body again and again to introduce her to new, unimaginable levels of pain–

Arya threw her head back and screamed into the roaring thunder, “Dear spirits, just let me DIE!”

[mauriooo]

okay! undertale oc! here! we! go!

(actually made this a while ago for an art trade with @periwinkle-arts​ (WHICH I AM TRYING TO FINISH I SWEAR--), go check her out she’s the B E S T)

anyway bio and some notes are under the cut ofc, it’s really long so bear with me pls (a lot of it is copied and pasted directly from artfight uwu)

(just an fyi, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE let me know if i mess up in representing/explaining PTSD with Artemis. i do not have PTSD, i will not claim to understand what people with it are going through, and i want to be as respectful and accurate as possible when it comes to these things so i don’t misrepresent people with this mental condition.)

name - Artemis Rosewood nicknames - Ari (used by Sans and (formerly) her little sister Athena) age - 19 species - half-human, half-monster gender - Female pronouns - she/her sexuality - pansexual

headcanon voice - like GinjaNinjaOwO’s voice but slightly deeper i guess personality - she's pretty chill most of the time, but sometimes has days when it's hard for her to get out of bed. she's also pretty nervous in social situations, so you'll normally find her at her house in Snowdin or Sans/Papyrus's house. she jokes around a lot, and uses it as a coping mechanism. she's DEATHLY afraid of humans.

likes - Sans and Papyrus, snow, Snowdin, cinnamon bunnies, bisicles/unisicles, sweet things in general, scarves, warmth, reading, flowers dislikes - guns, loud noises, humans, dust, dogs (really only as a cat, they're only a bit unnerving to her otherwise), blood

strengths - is very agile and a skilled swordswoman. is good at strategy

weaknesses - pretty sensitive to any triggers. is always somewhat tired and/or sleep-deprived, so she has a tendency to nod off in the worst places. (quick note before backstory: Artemis lives in an alternate timeline where the length of The War of Humans and Monsters and the time between the war and Frisk falling is much shorter, as in 14-15 years instead of the implied hundreds. this is necessary for her lineage to work. this backstory also uses my personal headcanon for the order of the fallen humans, which really only has 1 detail to base it on and is probably incorrect so....) backstory - Artemis was born to a monster mother and a human father, who she got her last name from. her mother was pregnant with her little sister when the war started, and gave birth shortly after the monsters were banished, dying in the process because i needed to retcon her out. she lived with Sans and Papyrus until she was 11 and Athena was 6, where she found an abandoned house off the edge of Snowdin Town that she became determined to restore, and still lives in when Frisk falls. when Artemis was 13 and Athena was 8, roughly 3 years after Chara fell, the Justice kid arrived in Snowdin (remember how i said this used a headcanon? feel free to ask me about my paper-thin reasoning behind it uwu). Athena tried to befriend the human, and they responded by shooting her in the chest out of fear. when Artemis ran to help, they also shot her in the chest and left eye. Artemis damaged the human, but they survived until Waterfall (where someone else presumably killed them, thereby having their gun/hat end up in the dump and then in Bratty/Catty's shop). Athena died, and Artemis still mourns her. her eye healed into what it looks like now with some help from a doctor. she's now pretty much blind in her left eye, but the pupil changes color with her emotions, meaning when she closes her good eye, she just sees the one or two colors of the pupil. she also still has the scar from where she was shot in the chest. occasionally, some of her magic weapons will turn into a gun similar to the fallen child's, normally causing a panic attack. magic - (i'll add images later) she can summon swords or knives made of magic, which normally take on a red-pink color. she can make these float, but prefers using them in hand-to-hand combat. she can also make bows and arrows, which have the same color of the swords. she normally just sends the arrows as projectiles by themselves, but does occasionally take the time to use an actual bow. she can turn into a cat (which doesn't have the magic eye, just an empty hole, and also doesn't have wings) or a bird which resembles an umbrella cockatoo (the bird has both eyes). relationships - the main relationship in the game would be her relationship with Sans and Papyrus, who she sees as both dumb younger brothers and awesome older brothers (they also act as a lifeline from time to time). she does occasionally hang out in the room with the telescope and the wishing room in Waterfall, so she talks with Undyne from time to time, but they're just acquaintances. extra - Artemis has PTSD caused by both watching Athena die/turn to dust and being shot herself. she occasionally experiences panic attacks, which are caused by nightmares (mostly of rewatching Athena die, dying herself, or watching Sans and/or Papyrus die), certain sounds (like sudden loud noises or gunshots), or sights (like guns or accidentally summoning a gun herself). on a lighter note, the colors i show for the pupil in the main image are barely even scratching the surface of all the colors i have planned out. i might make a chart later, but if you need a color for a certain emotion, just ask!!