#okay sorry for being mentally ill and having mental issues. i love you.

[emblemxeno]

Sorry king gotta rant. Why does Bernie having trauma mean you can't dislike her? Where's this energy for Rhea, who lost her people and mother? Catherine has good reason to support Rhea since she saved her fucking life but she doesn't get that pass. Dimitri is mentally ill as hell but I don't see Bernie stans defending him? Oh because Bernie didn't hurt anyone else? Okay, what about cyril? The 14 year old boy who was saved from SLAVERY brings up his surrogate mom a lot. Who did he hurt? Why is Bernie's annoying "funny footsteps" ass where the line is drawn? Everyone in 3h has trauma! People can hate whomever they want don't get me wrong but don't act like your favorite traumatized waifu is above criticism while characters like Rhea get dragged through the fucking mud. I guess trauma is only valid if you support the emperor.

Valid feelings imo anon.

I have come and gone on how I feel about Bernadetta, because it's extremely apparent what she was written as: a character whose major gimmick is meant for surface level laughs and entertainment, with a backstory intended to endear her to the audience.

But therein lies many issues I have.

---One support conversation with Byleth, and she says she's fine around them, for no discernable reason according to her. Her entire support chain, including her Goddess Tower scene, is her all but saying "I can't and never could do anything without you professor!" That's a problem 3H has in general because it has no idea how to intentionally write an actual developed relationship. It's why the Lions' intense homoeroticism within its cast, along with Ferdinand and Hubert, are the most common ships outside of Byleth centered ones, as those effectively stumbled into gold.

Comparatively, most other romantic chains-where love/marriage/a relationship was blatantly intended-fall flat because they shove a lot of it into the A supports (sometimes the B rank ones too), which also has to complete the support chain's arc, making one/two conversations tackle two different and delicate topics at once.

I know people are critical of Awakening and especially Fates having romance being hamfisted in the S ranks, but at least you can complete a support chain's story in those games without the shoddy lovey dovey aspect being required reading alongside the conclusion. It's unavoidable in 3H, and also makes many characters look like shitty, emotionally immature people in a meta sense because they can have these near-confessions-of-love with different characters simultaneously due to it being in the A ranks. Not in a cute polyamorous way, either, no just ludicrous.

I digress though, because this affects Bernadetta for me specifically because it's such a rough backstory that it fails to get me to suspend my disbelief that she can suddenly become comfortable with a very speficic stranger to the point of falling for them. Compounding that with a military academy, events, and eventually a war? Yeah, no, it makes no fucking sense.

---Simiarly, as you say, the music that accompanies her supports makes the revelation of her backstory feel insincere and vacuous. Now, I praise similar kinds of writing in games like Engage with Alfred, for example, where learning a very important detail recontextualizes everything you know and have seen about the character. With Alfred, knowing about his illness and losing his father at a young age, it shifts the entire thought process about his supports, story scenes, Firene as a whole, etc.

The difference between him and Bernadetta though, is the sense of respect. Perhaps it's due to Alfred being plot important, but Alfred is written in a way that signals "I, the writer, respect my work, respect the character I'm putting time and effort into, and respect the audience who is consuming it." Alfred has funny music scenes too, but it's never at the cost of making a joke of his trauma. His muscle worship is funny to listen to, his fitness/health regimen is nutty, his overly enthusiastic personality is entertaining, but none of this is at the expense of his vulnerable points. There's hardly, if any, instances of him being forced into changing who he is, altering his beliefs and lifestyle, or being made into a perennial punchline.

Bernadetta, on the other hand, is almost always treated horribly by the support writing. Yelled at by Edelgard, forced out of her room by Ingrid, beat up by a rabbit in Petra's support, accosted by both Ferdinand and Hubert, carried against her will by Caspar, etc. The only supports where I can comfortably say she's treated all right is with Dorothea, Leonie, Raphael, Seteth and Alois, and even then, a couple of those are reliant on a character getting backstory/teachable moment in between her screaming.

It boils down to "Haha, look at this kooky situation that Bernadetta found herself in because of her shut-in personality, what will happen next? 🤪", meanwhile the whole reason why she's like that is because was violently abused by her father and a childhood friend of hers was nearly beaten to death. The backstory itself, doesn't even recontextualize everything the way Alfred's does either, because now all I think when Bernadetta's screaming is "wow, this is fucking gross and potentially triggering for people who also hate having boundaries crossed due to trauma."

And this is the same game that gave us Dimitri's story arc lol. Then again, most of the female characters in 3H have some garbage writing attached to them, soooo...

---This is personal, but I also just can't jibe with Bernadetta conceptually.

Her part one design is okay (aside from the "wow crazy face Bernadetta cuz she's scared haha! 🤪), but her part two design is kinda horrid.

I don't like her voice at all, though that's not an indictment of Erica Mendez at all (she's great as Deirdre and Lianna). It's the direction and character concept, I just hate high pitched squealing and screaming, no matter the voice type, it hits my ears in the worst way.

She's pretty cool as a unit, due to the vengeance builds and having a good spell list if you wanna go a magic route, but... that's about it.

I don't know if I hate Bernadetta herself, or even really dislike her, but I do vehemently hate the concepts behind her and how she's written.

Really, I think people should feel how they feel about whatever character. And I agree, I think it's kinda BS how certain characters are treated worse than others because their personalities are "more annoying/less endearing" despite also being in similar situations.

[atlasscrumpit]

Run rabbit

Part 2 - here

Hannibal prepared dinner in the kitchen as Will sat across from him drinking some whiskey.

"When is Y/N coming down?" Will asked as Hannibal continued to cook.

"She'll be down soon... You should know something about her. My daughter has some mental inabilities, she can get quite delusional and paranoid at times and even lose her memory. There's times when she believes I'm not her real father and that I kidnapped her." Hannibal explained rather casually as Will stared at him in shock.

"Oh... I didn't know she had issues like that. It must be tough to raise her." Will responded as Hannibal began to plate up the dinner he had prepared.

"As her father I will raise her no matter what." He replied making Will sigh a little.

"I didn't mean to offend you." Will reassured him, he hated to make Hannibal mad.

"I am not offended, Will. I assure you." He replied before they both heard a noise and saw you making your way downstairs.

"There's my wonderful child, Y/N I would like you to meet a friend or mine. This is Will." Hannibal said as you slowly moved forward and looked at Will.

"I'm Y/N." You muttered as he offered you a smile.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, I'm Will. Hannibal has told me a lot about you." He said as you nodded a little, looking quite shy.

"Could you set the table for me, my child?" Hannibal asked as you nodded and began to set the table.

"Is she always this quiet?" Will asked in a low voice making a Hannibal sigh.

"It changes quite a bit, she had a rough night last night, that's why she's quiet." Hannibal explained making Will nod in response.

Hannibal served up dinner and you all sat down together.

"You dad was telling me you're home schooled, do you enjoy it?" Will asked, trying to include you into the conversation.

"Yeah... It's okay." You muttered while you ate.

"Darling, we talked about this. You are being rude to our guest." Hannibal instructed as you rolled your eyes.

"No, I'm not." You grumbled making your father sigh.

"I know you are tired but that isn't an excuse to be rude." He continued as you poked at your food.

"I'm sorry, Will." You muttered as he smiled softly.

"It's alright, I don't mind. When I was in school I never wanted to even acknowledge it, but you're lucky to have a good father like Hannibal to teach you." He said as you looked at him and nodded a little.

"Yeah... I am." You muttered, your face still void of emotion.

--

Will was washing the dishes while Hannibal took out the trash, you stood in the kitchen and watched Will.

"Are you and my dad in love?" You asked making him pause and look at you.

"Um... Well, we care about one another." He muttered in response trying to dodge the direct question.

"So, why have I never met you?" You grumbled, crossing your arms.

"Your father just wanted to make sure you were ready." He responded as you sighed.

"He's not my father... He's a monster." You whispered as Will looked at you in shock.

"Why do you say that?" He asked as you glared at him.

"I'm guessing you know about his hobbies by now." You muttered, Will was shocked you knew about it.

"Well, yes... I do know about it. Your father is quite complicated." He said, wiping up his hands as he turned to look at you.

"He killed me family and kidnapped me." You whispered as he stared at you, Hannibal had warned him about this kind of thing.

"Why don't we go watch TV?" He asked, trying to change the subject.

"Did he tell you I'm mentally ill and make up stories? He tells everyone that." You grumbled before you heard a sigh, you turned around to see Hannibal.

"Y/N, I have spoken to you about telling lies." He said as you looked at him.

"Why don't you tell him the truth then, huh!? That you fucking kidnapped me!" You shouted making him sigh.

"Y/N, you have one chance to apologise, if not I will be forced to medicate you." He threatened as you glared at him.

"Fine..." You grumbled before turning to Will.

"I'm sorry." You muttered as he nodded a little.

"It's okay, Y/N." He reassured with a kind smile.

"If you don't mind Will, I'm going to speak with Y/N." Hannibal said, leading you into his office.

He shut the door and locked it.

"We had a deal, didn't we?" He growled as you looked at him in anger.

"But, you just had to break the rules. I don't take kindly to disobedience, and you know that." He muttered, you looked away feeling fear.

"You will stay here, I will send our guest home and then I will come back and punish you, understood?" He asked, as you nodded a little.

"Yes, father." You whispered before he left you alone.

A few minutes later he returned, locking the door once again and staring at you.

"You seem to think a life without me would be more beneficial then a life with me. So, why don't we try it?" He suggested as you looked up at him.

"Come with me." He demanded, walking out of the office, you followed behind him until you got to the garage and climbed into the passenger seat of the car.

"Where are we going?" You whispered as Hannibal began to drive.

"You want to get away so bad? I'm just helping you along." He explained before continuing to drive in silence.

After about twenty minutes of silence he finally stopped the car and stepped out.

He opened the passenger door and pulled you out of the car.

"We're going to play a little game, it's called rabbit and fox. I'll be the fox, you be the rabbit, I'm going to give you two minutes to run before I start hunting. If you last twenty minutes, you can run away, go wherever you want...but if I catch you, which I will, there's no more escaping. Do you understand?" He asked as you stared at him in shock, the grip on your arm getting tighter.

"Please don't do this, I'm sorry." You begged as he reached up and ran his finger down the side of your face. 

"Start running, little rabbit."

[marzipanandminutiae]

god I need to stop reading the notes on that "you don't owe anybody your downtime post that goes downhill in the notes

I got a bit hyperbolic in the tags but I still feel like my point was valid: you cannot just shoot down good-faith attempts at compromise between conflicting mental illness with "sorry I don't have the energy to do that :) :) :)" and then keep telling the person on the other side that they need to work on their issues. it cannot be all give on one side and all take on the other

for clarity, the original post said "people can't always respond right away and that's okay!" (which I agree with!). but then someone in the notes was like "could you maybe tell me if you don't feel up to talking when I reach out to you?" and OP and a few other people were like "so, no, because if I had the energy to do that, I'd have the energy to conduct a conversation. sorry! anyway work more on your own stuff thanks!"

and this pissed me off because like. people with mental issues that can make us annoying/clingy/insecure about people's love or friendship? we never seem to get grace. we are ALWAYS the ones being told that we need to be better- which we definitely do! I'm not arguing that! -amidst all the posts telling you that you don't owe your friends anything ever and if someone ever gets annoyed or concerned by a lack of a response, that's on them. nobody EVER seems to get told "well, maybe work on being able to say 'hey, not feeling up to it; talk later!'"

and obviously there are degrees of this. getting worried and spam texting after two hours with no reply to a non-time-sensitive message is an issue; getting annoyed when someone ignores you for months is understandable. not texting someone back immediately is fine; not texting them back ever and then expecting them to still be there for you is not. but I feel like both extremes are issues to be worked on, and only one gets negative attention here on Tumblr

seriously you don't want to know where I started with all this. it was Bad. passive-aggressive, "manipulating people without realizing I was doing anything wrong" Bad. I have worked on it and continue to work on it. I used to tie myself in knots when I saw that little green dot and they didn't message back right away, or if they hadn't messaged first in a while. and subsequently take that out on my loved ones, intentionally or not. it wasn't fun for me, it certainly wasn't fun for them, and I've struggled to get out of that place and not go back there

but. I and people with similar abandonment/insecurity issues can't do it all. it's not meeting halfway when only one side is expected to move

and to see a post being like "well some people are just never going to listen to reason and I have to ~let myself accept that~ UwU" when all I said was "we can't be the only ones trying, and it's not fair that we're often expected to be" is just. hnnnng

I need to go aggressively cut plastic bits off gold braid trim

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Can you make a story where reader protected Donna from danger that almost cost her life. Donna manage to save her but reader hs been unconscious for a weeks. While she's taking of her, Donna couldn't forget what almost happened to her lover. This became worst because of the severe mental illness that Donna has, but this time she's actually losing her sanity at this point but still clinging to the reader because she's the only one can make her sane. Miraculously the reader woke up, still injured but alive. Donna felt a sense of peace in her soul.

Note: Reader almost died because a soldier tried to kill Donna but she save her. The soldier is possibly a BSAA agent.

It's in Donna's POV, I want to see things her perspective especially when she starts breaking down.

Donna is also shy and weak not like most of her siblings so she struggled with this to.

Yesss!!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :))))

Come back

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, Donna's POV, mental health issues, Donna being Donna

Word count: 5,650

Summary: Please, let you light come back to my darkness...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

“Come on, Donna, it's just a walk,” you said in a tender voice, with those eyes you knew perfectly well I couldn't resist.

I sighed, shook my head and fought the gentle tugs you gave to my hand.

“We, we're better off at home,” I murmured, looking away and causing you to sigh tiredly.

Your pleading look didn't change.

“Come on, today is a too great day to be locked up in this horri… I mean, wonderful, dark house,” you said jokingly, swinging my hand with yours. “Please…”

“(Y/N),” I said a bit nervous, shaking my head again but, surprisingly, starting to think about your offer, as always.

You always did with me what you wanted, and I let you. I would do anything for you, always, (Y/N), always.

“Is that a yes?” you asked with a sufficient smile, completely ignoring my protests. I wish, (Y/N), I wish for once, you hadn't insisted.

“I didn't say yes,” I said, frowning, gently pulling you along, with an amused sigh.

“Now you did,” you joked in my ear.

How could I refuse?

“W, well, okay, okay...” I whispered defeated, unable to make you see how comfortable I was at home. I don’t liked going outside. Of course, you were always there to make those fears, which you said were irrational, disappear.

You jumped for joy and stole a kiss from me, one that relaxed my nerves even more. Your kisses had that effect on me, a wonderful effect. I returned it, unable to do anything but look at your eyes, your smile. You were my only addiction.

With a brief triumphant smile, you walked towards the door and I followed you, reaching out for my black veil, the one I never left off if I had to go out for some reason. I already knew I was a monster, you did too, but you denied it, you always denied it.

“Hey, no, leave it there,” you said, giving me a gentle slap to get me to let the veil go before I cover my face.

“But, but, (Y/N)… I have, I have to…” I stammered, trying to make you understand that I needed that veil, that the sunlight was a privilege that someone like me didn't deserve.

No, the world didn't need to see my deformed face.

I couldn't stop you from seeing it, but I could stop nature from being disturbed by my horrible appearance.

“It’s just a walk through the grounds. There's no one around here, you don't need it,” you said in a soft, comforting tone, definitely moving the cloth out of my reach.

I, in my perpetual madness, tried to snatch it from you, without success.

“Donna, stay still,” you said, this time with a firm voice, forcing me to remain paralyzed and nod defeated once again. “That's it... Good girl,” you whispered, pleased by my answer, by my shoulders falling helplessly and my slightly angry look.

“You like to make me suffer,” I hissed, unable, again, to face your decisions.

Deep down I knew you did it for me, you always did it for me.

“Yes, yes, I like to make you suffer...” you repeated rolling your eyes, without letting the smile disappear from your face. “Stop complaining and come here,” you ordered softly, gesturing with your hand. “Come on, come here.”

A bit reluctant, but motivated by that look, by that smile, I obeyed, grabbing your hand again as we left the estate. It was the first time in a long time that I could see the sun clearly, and it was blinding.

“If you feel sick, you get nervous or want to go back, just tell me, okay?” you said as we walked.

“I want to go back,” I whispered, in an embarrassingly childish tone. You laughed amused, arching your eyebrows and squeezing my hand tighter.

“You’ll see how good the fresh air is for you,” you said, ignoring my protest and kissing me on the cheek. “Besides, I’m here with you, holding your hand very tightly, see?”

I looked down, distrustful, looking at our intertwined fingers, my hand next to yours, fused into one. I don't know how you did it, but your advice always worked, relaxing my spirit.

Before I met you, I thought my life had only one purpose, one that I even doubted: to exist, to attend to the requests of my savior, Mother Miranda. Being named Lord was not a relevant change in my life.

I spent all those years alone, as if the world itself had forgotten me. I cannot be surprised by that. I, Donna Beneviento, never knew the meaning of appreciation, affection, love...

My misfortunes haunted me. I was unable to escape from my demons, from the illness that damaged my mind. Feeling powerful, with control over people should have been enough to give meaning to my life, but it wasn't.

The hours, the days, the weeks... Not even the passage of time had meaning in my old estate, I wonder if it ever did. No, nothing in my life could keep me away from the darkness, nothing could silence the voices in my head, my cries in front of the mirror, the nightmares…

Angie was a good support, but it wasn't enough. I guess my father thought the same when he gave her to me. It's a shame that she didn't serve any purpose. It was just to increase my problems.

People, conversations, human contact… All this stuff always sounded like something impossible in my head. I was aware that there couldn't be anyone, that no one would be able to understand me.

Solitude became my name. Isolation was my home. A horrendous monster, was my appearance.

I had already assumed my sentence, my sentence for existing, for being born in that cursed place, in that cursed family. There would be no remedy for my soul, or so I thought.

Then you came.

(Y/N), a girl from the village who dedicated herself to weaving, to selling her fabrics. What a curious coincidence. I needed those fabrics, you made them. Always, even before I met you, you had something I needed, something I craved.

Love was a dream for me. I could only get close to it in my books, in my dreams where a female hand held mine.

Was it your hand from the beginning? I have no doubt.

But, thanks to you, I knew what it meant to have someone by your side, someone who… loved you. Maybe it wasn't hard for me to fall in love with someone like you, a beautiful, smiling, cheerful girl… However, I still wonder what you could see in someone like me, (Y/N).

 I was, I’m a monster.

Your lips silenced my doubts with a kiss, one you gave me under my black veil. You said you never cared about what was underneath, you only cared about knowing if I was as crazy about you as you were about me.

I was, really, I was.

Loving you was easy, the fear of losing you wasn't. You should have abandoned me when my demons forced me to yell at you, to hurt myself. You didn't, you never left.

Like an angel I never had, your presence illuminated me. It revealed to me the little light left in my soul. Your hand, the one I dreamed of before I met you, held mine tightly to calm me down, to return to being that good monster you wanted to kiss.

The little sanity left in my tormented soul was like a thin thread that your perfect hands held. There came a point where I couldn't, I didn't want to live without you.

“Are you okay?” you asked, taking me out of my thoughts, entering that dark forest, walking slowly, in silence.

I nodded, smiling as I remembered you, as I thought about that first kiss, about all the ones that came after, about all the things you showed me. You showed me to love, and to be loved, just thinking about it could make my deformed face smile.

“I was just thinking,” I said, clearing my throat.

You nodded slowly, leaning towards me, resting your head on my shoulder, sighing in conjunction with the calm of that forest.

“Nice things, I hope,” you joked with a purr.

“Of course, tesoro, I was thinking about you,” I said whispering, making your cheeks blush while your gaze became shy.

Silence was our company again. That walk was certainly not a bad idea. Nothing could be bad if it was with you.

“You are very sweet, Donna,” you sighed, stopping and turning my head to give me one of your kisses, a gift much more divine than the Black Gods themselves.

“I try,” I said amused, moving your hair out of your face. I hated it. I hated seeing how the locks got in the way of your beauty.

Did you also feel the same when I put on the veil? No, impossible, you were an angel, I was the devil, a monster.

“Look, let's sit down, the sun is about to set,” you said, changing that sweetness into enthusiasm, pulling my hand towards the edge of a cliff, where an old tree seemed to catch your attention. “Come, sit down.”

I looked at you strangely, but I nodded, obeying you. I would always be faithful to you, (Y/N), I would do everything you asked me to do.

You let yourself fall in front of me, leaning against my body, completely relaxed.

“Are you comfortable, tesoro?” I asked, trying not to disturb the romantic atmosphere of that place with my husky voice. You laughed, looked at me, and shook your head.

“No,” you said abruptly, searching for something with your gaze. You located my arms, grabbing them and passing them around your waist, snuggling among them. “Now I am.”

You were right, it was a beautiful sunset. Maybe it was because you were beautiful. Gods, I love you so much…

“Donna,” you said, interrupting that relaxing calm, playing with my hands with a playful expression.

“Mm?” I murmured, resting my head on your shoulder, kissing you slowly on your soft cheek along with shy laughs.

“Come on, do it,” you said, moving away and looking at me expectantly. I frowned, confused.

“What?” I asked amused. Your cheeks blushed even more.

“You know…” you said with a soft voice, with shining eyes. “Speak to me in Italian, you know I love it,” you asked me, biting your lip.

I opened my mouth to fulfill your wishes once again, but some unpleasant cawing prevented me from doing so. The crows that used to rest in the trees of the forest flew away. It didn't take a genius to know that this was a bad omen.

“Wow…” you said, looking at the birds, curious like me. “What's wrong with those birds?”

“I, I don't know,” I said with a different look, worried.

My hands were starting to shake. It was time to go home.

“There are no lycans around here, right?” you asked, getting up scared by the strange behavior of the forest animals.

“No,” I said, standing up as well, looking around for the source of that horrible feeling that was starting to run through my body. It was like someone was watching us.

“I have a bad feeling,” you whispered, as if you too were focused on a danger you couldn’t see.

“Me too, let’s go home,” I said, grabbing your hand, almost pulling you along, heading back to the path that led us back to the safety of my darkness.

“Donna, wait,” you said, planting your feet on the ground, stopping abruptly. “Have you heard that?”

I shook my head nervously, grabbing your hand again. The chills were getting more intense. You, horrified by something, stopped again with your eyes wide open.

“Don’t, don't shoot,” you said with your hands up, looking towards a corner, where an armed man was crouching, with what looked like a rifle pointed at us.

“Get away, civilian,” that masked man said, focusing his attention on me.

I was paralyzed. I didn't know how to react to that strange threat.

“Donna, watch out!” you screamed, lunging at me just as a thunderous shot echoed in the forest, followed by a flash of light. There was no doubt, that man had come to kill me.

“Back, stay back (Y/N),” I said, pushing you away from my body and dodging another shot. I should have noticed you, I should have.

“Shit,” the man whispered, trying to reload his gun. It was too late for that poor bastard.

I walked slowly, keeping my monstrous gaze on that strange mask. He was going to pay for what he had done, no doubt. With a strange calm, which I needed to use my powers, I extended my hand towards him. He couldn't see my face, but I knew that I terrified him.

“Wait, wait,” the poor man begged, crawling on the ground, throwing away his gun and trying to flee.

Soon my powers began to take effect, forcing him to writhe in pain for things that didn't exist, to grab his gun, point it at his head, and pull the trigger, ending his existence forever.

“Bastardo…” I hissed, kicking the lifeless body of what was, without a doubt, a soldier.

“Donna…” you said, in low voice, crouched on the ground, hunched over yourself.

I looked at you, still filled with the adrenaline that came from using my gift. I ran towards you, I bent down to help you up, but when I looked at my hands, there was only blood on them.

On your belly there was a wound, a wound caused by that weapon, by that stupid act of throwing yourself at me.

 Once again, I was paralyzed, horrified, I only saw blood, your blood.

“(Y/N), (Y/N),” I said nervously, checking your condition.

Your eyes danced, your skin paled dangerously. My hand pressed your wound to stop the red flow that stained it. No, it couldn't be possible, it was a nightmare.

“Donna…” you sighed, letting yourself fall into my arms, losing strength. I didn't know what to do. I was just trying to keep the light that wanted to leave your gaze. “I saved you…” you whispered with a smile, before fainting completely.

“No, no, no, no…” I repeated furiously, holding your head up high and my hand on your wound, looking for help with my eye, a help that wasn't going to come. “(Y/N)!” I screamed furiously, passing my hand over my forehead, bathing it in your blood.

Do something, stupida…

The voices in my head rebuked me for my frustration, forcing me to take your unconscious body in my arms, running you back to the home we should never have left.

“Resisti, (Y/N), per favore…”

I couldn't say how I got home. All I saw was blood, your blood desecrating your beauty. All because of me, all, because, of, me.

“In… In… In a coma?” I asked when Mother Miranda, in her eternal mercy, came to my call for help. The priestess looked at me after bandaging your unconscious body.

“The bullet has pierced part of her spleen, be thankful she's not dead,” she whispered, closing a briefcase and looking at me with hatred, with the hatred of not being able to save you, surely.

I, still nervous, soaked in your blood, couldn't stop shaking, I couldn't think of seeing you like that, almost lifeless in bed, with your beautiful eyes closed, would I ever be able to see them again?

“Did you kill him?”  Miranda asked, distracting me from the task of squeezing your hand, like you taught me, like you told me all problems passed. “Donna!”

“Yes, yes,” I answered without looking at her. I should have been grateful to her, but I couldn't, I could only hate myself.

“Fine...” the blonde sighed, with that golden glow blinding my eye. “That rat has been causing problems for a while now. I guess it finally got what it deserved.”

I suddenly let your hand go and got out of bed, furious at what those words implied.

“Did you know? Did you know that bastardo was lurking around?” I asked furiously, feeling my temples throbbing as if, without your hand squeezing mine, I would lose control of my actions.

“Shh, calm down,” Miranda said, with a grimace of disgust, without moving, without blinking. Stoic, all-mighty  as always. “Of course I knew. The BSAA never gets tired, right? I assumed it wouldn’t be a problem for you.”

“Not for me…” I whispered, squinting, clenching my red fists tightly. “And for her?!”

“Stop, yelling, Donna,” the witch said, pressing her eyes shut with her fingers, again, not even slightly fazed by my behavior. “I couldn't possibly know that your girl was going to play heroes.”

I growled furiously, pacing erratically around the room, thinking of a thousand ways to kill my adoptive mother, to end it all, to make everything go up in the air. I couldn't stand it, I couldn't stand that you had risked your pure life to save a monster's. Anything but that.

“I'll come back next week to check on her,” the blonde said, disinterested. Of course, you were a mortal, she didn't care about you.

I cursed all her ancestors. I really wished that her body and her golden robes would fall down the waterfall where my family died.

“Take care of her in the meantime, or kill her, I don't care,” she whispered, making me growl in horror. “But I don't want you to give me any trouble, is that clear?”

When Miranda disappeared, everything collapsed around me, my body collapsing against one of the bedroom walls. There was no more laughter, no more gasps, no more moans of passion in the dark bedroom. Only my agonized crying echoed off the walls while my hands pulled at my hair, hitting the floor in rage. A pathetic scene that I couldn't avoid.

When I managed to calm down, I saw that Angie was next to me, as always.

“Is she dead?” the doll asked unpleasantly pointing at your inert body. I shook my head, realizing that I had hurt myself, that the blood dripping from my head was mixing with yours on my hands.

“No!” I shouted, angrily pushing the puppet away. “She's not…” I said, this time sobbing, burying my head in my hands, sinking into my knees the shame of not being able to save you.

“Bad Donna, stupid Donna!” Angie protested, damaging my ears.

I was about to, about to deactivate her, but I needed her, I needed someone to speak for me, someone to keep reason in my head, to keep madness away from my sick mind.

“I'm sorry,” I said, getting up from the floor coldly. Angie nodded without resentment and climbed into bed next to you.

I approached slowly, taking your hand in mine, squeezing it again like you taught me.

“She's asleep, huh?” Angie said, getting too close. I controlled my impulse to mistreat her again, with an absurd idea in my head.

If you were asleep, that meant I could wake you up, right?

“Wake up, wake up…” I whispered, caressing your cheeks, your soft, addictive skin. There was no response and I took a breath again, resting my hands on your shoulders. “Come on, tesoro, wake up…”

“Wake up, you fool, wake up!” the doll shrieked, moving you too. Yes, it was true that Angie was jealous because you had captured all my attention, but she appreciated you, really. It was impossible for her not to, she was part of me.

“Per favore…” I begged, sobbing again, seeing that your body still didn’t react to my gentle movements.

My breathing became agitated and my hands trembled as they moved you more and more roughly. My heart was about to explode.

“Svegliati, (Y/N), svegliati!” I shrieked, moving you roughly, desperately. I knew it was a good idea not to deactivate Angie, she stopped me.

“Hey, hey, Donna, stop, stop, you'll hurt her!” the puppet shouted, uselessly placing itself between your body and mine, clinging to my unhinged arms.

I finally left you alone, sinking beside you, crying on your chest, pathetically settling next to you, wrapping my arms around you, just the way you liked it.

“Don't do this to me, tesoro, please... Don't leave me alone...”  I sobbed, staining your skin with my tears, crying until at some point, my monstrous body gave in to exhaustion.

A day passed, two, you didn't wake up.

My desperation seemed calmer, but it wasn't. I took care of you, I looked after you, but in my head there was only a flash, a horrible sound: the light of the shot, the sound of the bullet that pierced your skin.

That bullet must have pierced me, not you.

You had saved my life, what for? Why would I want to live in a world without you?

It was absurd, (Y/N) I should be dead, not you, you should wake up, smile, light up the world with your smile. It was too unfair.

Little by little I forgot to eat, to drink, to live…

I tried to stay sane while I read you your favorite books, hoping that the words that made you feel those emotions would revive your soul and I could see your beautiful eyes again.

But I was never well, I was always sick. Without you, without the thin thread that kept my sanity, I began to take small steps into the darkness.

“I sat with them at the table, next to Queequeg, and mentally prepared myself to listen to some stories about whale hunting…” I read calmly, next to you, my disastrous body didn’t separate from yours for a second, my hand always held yours.

Donna…

A dark voice interrupted me, a voice I knew, that I knew where it came from. Shaking my head, I tried to ignore it, but it wasn't possible. In that old book the words danced, making me dizzy, that dark voice sounded louder and louder.

She's dead…

That voice spoke to me again. I dropped the book, pulled my hair as I bent over myself, preventing it from continuing to speak in any way.

“No… No…” I said nervously, kicking the floor hard.

Yes, of course she is… Because of you…

“No! (Y/N) is alive!”  I screamed neurotically, to respond to someone who didn't exist, who only lived inside my crazy head. “Stai zitto!”

Really? Check her pulse…

Knowing that they were just trying to undermine my morale, that those voices weren't there, just as you always told me when they appeared so I would stop listening to them, I ignored your own words and brought my trembling hand to your neck.

You were cold, frozen, there was no sign of your heartbeat on your neck and, in front of me, your body began to crack, to calcify.

“No… No!” I screamed with my hands on my head, falling to my knees on the floor, crying, pulling my hair, unhinged again.

Yes, Donna, you killed her…

“Basta! Basta!” I yelled crying, covering my ears to uselessly silence the voice of my demons.

It's your fault! It's your fault!

“Donna, Donna!” a squeaky voice interrupted that horrible spectacle. It sounded like Angie, but I couldn't be sure. In my mind, I only saw your body falling apart, breaking into a thousand pieces. “What’s wrong?”

I couldn’t answer, I just pointed at your body with my finger. The doll climbed onto the bed, the bed I didn’t want to look at.

“What? What’s wrong with her?” the doll asked, with a confused voice.

Dead, dead, dead…

“Angie, (Y/N) is…” I murmured, swallowing my own tears, hitting the floor helplessly, furiously. I had to fall apart into a thousand pieces, not you.

“She’s what? She’s still asleep,” the doll said, getting off the bed to stand in front of me, tilting her head curiously.

“She, her body is…” I said in a low voice, making an effort to get up and dare to look at your broken body. It wasn't, you were still intact.

Your chest rose and fell calmly. Your expression wasn't cracked, but serene.

Confused and scared, I ran my hand over my sweaty forehead as I sat next to you, relieved to see that it had only been my imagination.

You will kill her, Donna… She saved your life, and you will kill her…

“Gods… (Y/N),” I said, resting my forehead against yours, keeping my face very close to yours.

“Are you okay?” Angie asked, suspecting what was the cause of my attitude.

“Yes, I…” I lied, moving away to let you breathe. “It, it was nothing.”

“Why don't you cut her throat and end her suffering?” Angie asked, with an amused tone. I stood up in surprise, grabbing the puppet by the neck.

“What did you just say?” I hissed as the doll struggled against my grip.

“Hey, let me go! I said why you don’t keep reading,” the puppet protested.

I let go, shaking my head, confused, overwhelmed by the situation.

I was losing my mind, and I knew it.

“Ugh, you need a break,” the doll said, comically shaking her dress. “And a shower, you stink.”

I closed my eye, breathing slowly, like my gardener, Josef, had taught me. It was true that I was a monster. That man was good, and I killed him.

“What I need is for her to come back…” I said sobbing, succumbing to crying again, squeezing your hand tightly, trying to beg you to come back to me.

“I miss her too,” Angie said, tenderly stroking your hair. Not even the fact that Angie acknowledged that she appreciated you was enough to reassure me.

“Please, (Y/N)… Please… Come back to me… Don’t, don't leave me alone, I need your light to get me out of this darkness…” I begged, squeezing your hand perhaps too tightly. The voices returned.

She will never come back to you, she never loved you. You will never feel her lips again. You will be left alone, with us, Donna, in the darkness where you belong.

Three, four days passed, or so I thought.

I lost track of time as well as I lost my mind. The voices were already a constant sound in my mind, the panic attacks, the hallucinations began to put you in danger. I decided not to get too close. My hands could turn against to you.

I kept repeating how much I needed you, how bad I felt without your comforting presence. You were my light, (Y/N), and you were fading away.

The weakness that my mind felt soon entered into harmony with that of my body. I was hungry, I knew it, I had to eat, but I didn't want to. I didn't want to leave you alone. I wanted to be with you, to cling to your unconscious body to feel that I wasn't lost, that there was still hope for me, and for you.

Exhausted, sitting on the floor against a wall, I closed my eyes tightly so as not to hear the voices that now asked me to leave everything, to abandon you, to abandon the life that was granted to me by the grace of Mother Miranda, that second chance that I didn't deserve.

She is like this because of you, you should die, Donna...

But no, I couldn't succumb to those requests. You needed me. You needed my care, for me to be by your side. You had saved my life, I couldn't abandon you, but neither could you.

“Don't you dare to leave me,” I sighed, my voice broken by crying, my weak body struggling to stay awake, in pain from the blows caused by the wounds caused by the crises.

My madness worsened as the hours passed. Reality, my own existence became something inexact. I didn't know when it was night, when it was day. There were no windows in that bedroom, you were always sleeping.

“Hey, hey, Donna,” a strange voice, which didn't come from my head, scared me, waking me from my exhaustion with some soft slaps on my face.

Cagna... She's coming to fuck her.

Ignoring the warning from my subconscious, I managed to make out my sister Alcina leaning over me.

“What...? What are you doing here?” I said, leaning on the wall so I could get up, ready to fight for you until the end. I didn't care if she was really there or it was another vision.

I was always jealous of my sister.

“You didn't come to the meeting. Miranda is asking for you,” the tall woman commented, walking sensually towards the bed. I couldn't move as fast as I wanted, and weakness made me stumble against the lady in white, who held me with her raised eyebrows.

“Vaffanculo…” I whispered, letting my sister guide me until I sat on the bed. “Get out.”

“You're a mess…” she murmured with disinterest, fixing my dress, almost torn by my own attacks. “How long has it been since you ate, dear? Not to mention how you stink…”

“I told you… to get lost…” I said furiously, pushing her with pathetic force. She just laughed, was she really there? “Porca puttana…”

“How vulgar…” Alcina laughed, holding me by the shoulder, dodging my furious attacks. “Aren't you supposed to take care of her?”

“I take care of her,” I said furiously, crossing my arms in a childish manner.

“Do you? I doubt you can take care of yourself, dear,” the lady in white mocked.

I growled again, guiding my gaze towards you, searching for your hand and grabbing it with the little strength I had left.

“Alcina… I'm…” I said calmer, relaxed by the softness of your skin. Maybe you were right and your hands were magic. “I'm losing my mind.”

“Oh, that's not new,” the vampire said, with a mocking expression.

 I ignored the comment, suppressing a sob.

“I feel, I feel that without her I…” I said with a broken voice, letting Alcina lay me down on the bed, next to you, sighing with pity.

“That's it, draga…” the big woman whispered, making sure I was comfortable. “You must stay strong, it's the best for (Y/N).”

“I don't, I don't know if I can do it… Alcina… I, I don't want to be alone, I want, I want her to come back,” I said, noticing how sleep attacked me again. At least when I was about to sleep, the voices didn't attack me.

“You must come back first, Donna,” my sister whispered, caressing my messy hair while covering me with a blanket. “(Y/N) needs you… Sleep, my sweet Donna…”

Those were the last words I heard before the darkness of my nightmares invaded me again.

Even today I still don't know if my sister's visit was real or if it was just a last breath of my sanity demanding me to come back, to force my demons to stay in a cage.

Three more days passed.

The voices continued to harass me, but something changed after that unexpected visit. My desire to fight my madness, to get you back, was much stronger. I even dared to accept the fruit that Angie brought me. Eating gave me strength, the softness of your hands kept the flame of hope alive.

“Actually I had always felt that way...” I read, like every day, another one of your favorite novels.

Miraculously, the voices that whispered horrible things to me no longer interrupted my words. I felt strong, or so I tried to show. With each passing day, the vision of the light of your smile became more blurred.

“…Without being able to explain why. I had never wanted to accept that life was so grey and indifferent, so without secrets or wonders as people pretended when they said…”

“That’s life…”

I read the end of that paragraph and nodded with a sigh. I soon realized something strange. No, it wasn't a horrible voice in my head. It wasn't Angie's voice that continued my reading.´

I dropped the book, let it fall loudly on the wood when I noticed something warm in my hand, yours, squeezing it tightly. Afraid that my mind would play tricks on me again, I closed my eye, opened it again and looked at your hand in mine, moving.

“Hello, darling…” a hoarse voice, broken by tiredness reached my ears, your voice, your angelic voice, your voice that came back to illuminate my dark path.

“(Y/N)…” I whispered, looking slowly into your bright eyes, half-closed but shining. “(Y/N)!”

I threw myself into your arms, burying my body in yours while my hand squeezed yours, to confirm that it hadn't been a dream. Not wanting to waste a second, I captured your lips in a kiss, crying with joy, crying for having you back, and scared in case it was just a dream.

“Hi… Hi…” you repeated, fighting against my gestures of affection, laughing weakly.

“Let her breathe, silly Donna!” Angie shrieked, pushing me away from you, jumping with joy on the bed. “You're back, you're back!”

“Yes, yes, it seems so…” you said coughing, in pain from the wound in your abdomen, trying to sit up, something I prevented.

“Don’t, don't move, you could... You could hurt yourself,” I said, playing nervously with your hair, with your hands, with everything that was within my reach.

“Hey...”

“Tell me, tesoro,” I said nervously, hoping to hear a request for water or food.

“I'm glad to see you again, Donna...”

“What are you talking about?” I asked confused, shaking my head. “(Y/N)... I'm, I'm the one who...”

“I told you a long time ago...” you sighed, exhausted, exhausted but awake. “That I would never abandon you...”

[sorrowfulrosebud]

Thinking about:

Tokoyami being skittish and avoidant after the first few weeks of your relationship. Everything was amazing with him; he showers you in sweet compliments that leave you breathless, calls you sweet nicknames and always makes time for you. Now imagine your surprise when he starts totally avoiding you.

==================================

The bell rings for first period, and your feathery boyfriend is yet to be seen. Anxiety started to gnaw at your chest; he hadn’t responded to your get well soon messages, only leaving you on read. You couldn’t even visit him properly since he gruffly told you to leave him alone when you tapped on his door.

It was not like Tokoyami at all, as communication was incredibly important to him in a relationship. Your anxiety bubbled over as you gnawed on your lip. Was this his way of breaking up with you? He had blown you off with plans for the last weekend too, making this a repeated issue. You knew you would get upset thinking about this, so you continued to scrawl down the notes from Aizawa’s lesson.

You mentally resolved to visit Tokoyami after the school day is finished and see just what the problem is.

==================================

You gently tapped on Tokoyami’s door yet again, praying to whatever entity that he would let you in.

“I don’t wish to see anyone at the minute, please leave me alone,” you heard him grunt back lowly. He sounded pained and hurt, not to mention tired. You bit your lip in anxiety.

“Fumi? It’s me, my love. Are you alright? Please let me in, I’m so worried about you,” you pleaded him through the door. You heard a sigh.

“I’m sorry but not right now. I’m not well, and I do not wish to pass the illness on,” he continued, sounding more irritated by the second.

“I don’t care if you get me sick Fumi, I can take care of you and help you get better,” you compromised, hoping he takes the deal.

“Starlight, not now. This.. it’s a different kind of illness,-” Tokoyami was cut off by a series of coughs resonating deeply in his room.

“That’s it Fumikage, I’m coming in!” You announced, undeterred by his pleads and demands for you to stop. You gasp upon entering his room; black feathers were strewn across his bedroom in random directions and places. His lamps were lit, leaving the gothic bedroom in a ghostly light as you tried to find your boyfriend.

He was trembling in the middle of his bed, surrounded by a growing pile of feathers and trying to hide himself with his pillow.

“Fumi? Are you okay honey?” Your voice filtered through his room as you closed the door behind you.

“Why are you covering your face, love? Is something the matter?” Your worried voice drove a sigh out of Fumikage as he lowered his shield. You let out a slight gasp; he was moulting. His feathers looked sparse in some areas, some turned grey and some on their way to drop out his face. Even though his face was not one of a humans, you could almost see the bags under his eyes.

“Oh my god Fumi, what’s happened?!” You try not to let your voice get too alarmed; you didn’t want your boyfriend to think you were disgusted of him.

“I knew this would happen. It was foolish of me to think I could prevent it. It is a byproduct of my quirk: every few months I moult my feathers to make way for thicker and healthier ones, but as such it takes a toll on my body. I get hot flashes, and my feathers just drop out. I am usually plagued by insomnia, yet it worsens during this period of time. You must think it’s disgusting,” his voice quietens in embarrassment.

You let out a small “oh” upon his explanation, feeling stupid for your prior thoughts. You slowly made your way to his bed and sat next to him, rubbing slow circles to his shoulder.

“That’s not the case at all, my love! I had no idea that your quirk would cause this but it makes sense. I wish you would have told me about this. I’m here for you, I can help you face problems like these. It’s not a disgusting thing, it’s perfectly natural,” you comforted him, slowly grabbing his hand and gently rubbing in between the knuckle like you know he likes.

Tokoyami seemed shocked at your response. Any other person apart from Shoji usually made comments along the lines of “ew, I couldn’t cope with it,” or something. The politest would just give him a sympathetic smile that was tinged with disgust.

“A-are you quite sure starlight? This can be a troublesome task-” you interrupt him.

“Of course Fumi. Now, come here. I brought some supplies in case you were sick,” you rearrange yourself so that you were at the headrest of the bed and Fumikage curled up against you. You produced a bottle of his favourite flavoured water and held it to him as he shakily managed a few gulps. He let out a shaky and tired breath as he nestled himself against your chest.

Your hands found his silky feathers and Fumikage’s eyes burst open. It was foreign for him to feel someone so casually pet him. You worked in continuous strokes, gently setting aside any loose or broken feathers before petting him again.

Fumikage let out a contented chirp each time you found a particularly annoyed or irritated area. His natural bird-like instincts were screaming at him; his mate was grooming him!! Actually helping him maintain his appearance!! Making him feel better about his icky transformation!! It was a dream come true.

He nuzzled his beak closer to your neck and allowed his breaths to get deeper and slower, before totally falling limp against you.

And you know what? That was the best night’s sleep he had in 4 days.

[blood-stained-lollipop]

advice for you based on your favourite pasta

Jeff- Are you excited about the When We Were Young festival? I hope Dan and Phil come out with the gay flag and kiss just for you <3. How are your anger issues? Playing your music at volume 100 isn’t a substitute for therapy. Please go hug someone babe, having Jeff as your favorite in 2023 means you definitely need it. 

Ben- I just know you’re funny, like your friends fucking love you. Either play video games or have a creative hobby. Ben stans are literally the best. Probably have awesome taste in music. My advice for you? It’s okay if you aren’t the happy one all the time, you aren’t a robot babe <3

Jack- I get academic overachiever vibes from you, like, you’re smart, and you know you’re smart. You probably read and have a letterboxd account. You’re effortlessly cool, and probably hot, but it’s okay to fail sometimes, you don’t have to be perfect <3

Toby- Hello mentally ill gay people no im jk all of you are mentally ill and gay its the creepypasta fandom lolz. You probably feel like you’re really annoying and cope via having Toby as your comfort character. Either you’ve been in therapy since you were twelve or you need to go. Try and prioritise yourself babe <3

Helen- ITS OKAY TO DO THINGS ALONE!!!!! You probably feel insecure about your lack of friends, or you feel like your social life sucks. Doing things alone is okay, it doesn’t make you a loser. You probably like art, and you’re probably fucking great at it. Don’t compare yourself to anyone babe <3

Liu- Do you have family trauma and/or feel like you’re gonna be alone for the rest of your life? Yeah checks out. Spend more time with people, I promise they aren't all bad. Go pet a dog, stand in the sunshine. Life is great sometimes <3

Jane- psst… it's okay to let your guard down. Idk if you knew that, but here I am telling you anyway. You’re a bad bitch, I know. You’re hot, I know. But not everyone wants to hurt you. Also, stop trying to take care of everyone around you <3

Nina- you probably got/get bullied for being different. I think its hot that you’re different. Sure, you belong in a 2007 scene meet-up and i’m sorry you aren’t there rn, but you have SO MANY secret admirers. Keep being you babe, don’t change for anyone <3

Clockwork- okay i’m just gonna say it. Sometimes being mean to people and pushing them away is a bad coping mechanism. I am saying this because I have the same coping mechanisms. We are the same. Please for the love of god stop clenching your jaw and let your guard down!!! <3

Sally- Either you’re one of the younger fans or you have serious trauma. You can’t go to places or listen to certain songs without wanting to throw up. Your hands are burning from holding onto your inner child so tightly. Hang in there, it’s gonna get better <3

[gatitties]

Hello. This is my first time making a request, so pardon me for any mistakes I might make, english is also not my first language, lol. May I request a teen! AFAB male reader (trans FtM) x Kid pirates (platonic)?

The reader is the user of the Itai-Itai No Mi, a fruit with the power to control pain sensitivity. The reader is chronically ill, born with Classic Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, so you could see how the fruit comes in extremely handy. He can control his own pain levels and transfer pain between himself and others, outside of battle, he often uses his powers to overextend himself, and during a fight, he can debilitate enemies by accentuating the pain from his own wounds and then transferring it to a target. Since he's physically weak, he keeps a distance, using a bow and arrow. He's really passionate about chemistry, so he usually laces the arrows with nervous agents, urticants, or other chemical weapons.

However, the powers from his fruit are nothing but a mere illusion. He can go on with his daily life, using his powers as analgesics and pretending he's not sick in the first place, but even though he's not feeling pain, he's still getting hurt.

If that wasn't enough, the reader is alexythimic, so he's constantly thrill-seeking in an attempt to alleviate the boredom that comes with his dulled-out emotions. This gets to the point where the reader just completely neglects his health because, well, he's not in pain. It also gets to the point where his body simply starts falling apart, being too unstable to keep him going. He hides this to the crew and pretends that nothing is happening, though the bruises and huge atrophic scars that appear from the slightest injuries are kind of a give-away.

Anxiety and anger are the only two emotions that the reader can easily identify, the rest being vague, confusing, or apparently non-existent. As he sits on the edge of his bed, feeling like a burden to the crew, those two emotions overtake him. The reader already has dysphoria and uneasiness regarding his body, a thing which he rarely talks about; despite dressing boyish he definitely doesn't pass as both his voice and body don't match his mind. And now, if that wasn't enough, his body fails him once more. "Why do I have to deal with the burden of something that doesn't even belong to me?" He asks himself.

As he gets sicker and sicker, his mind has him trapped in this endless cycle of boredom, fear, rage and indifference. At this point, everything, from his body to his head, feels like he's been sentenced to life in prison.

One day the reader simply collapsed, and the crew has to sit there, puzzled, as they figure out why the usually full-of-energy reader now has faceplanted the floor. I'll leave the rest to you (?) sorry if this is too long, lol. I've been feeling crappy about my physical and mental health, so reading something like this would be nice.

─Kid pirates x Teen!AFAB male reader (FtM) (platonic)

─Summary: Your world is slowly collapsing in the face of your illness, your powers don't seem to help and you are becoming more and more physically and mentally devastated.

─Warnings: a little angst, dissatisfaction with body, small panic attack

Naah, you did absolutely fine, I'm sorry this took so long and I hope you're really okay now love, I wish you all the love in the world and lots of hugs <3

You lost count of how many days you've been feeling this way, a sensation that tingles your body and persists until you fade it with your powers, the sensitization control worked well, however you had the reminder of the scars and the touch of your own skin, remembering that no matter how hard you try, you were still a helpless and insecure teenager with a chronic health problem.

The moments when all the discomfort was left behind was due to the lack of understanding when it came to deciphering feelings, the crew didn't help much with that issue, after all, they, for the most part, weren't the happiest people or those who spread nice or self-care messages, definitely the Kid Pirates weren't the most suitable to fully develop your lack of interpretation of emotions.

Even though you had never had any problems before, something inside your mind was eating away at your conscience little by little, devouring every little corner, you don't know when it started, but you felt trapped in a cycle, repetitive days seeing your face, your body, you didn't look like yourself, you weren't the person you imagined in your confused mind, you didn't like yourself, and even changing your physical aspects in a certain ways, there was always some minimal detail as a reminder, the tone of your voice, the shape of your body… it seemed like a constant fight against yourself, a tug-of-war in which your thoughts brought you down morally.

"Hey kiddo, don't just stand there, we have to go now, don't forget your things."

Heat gave you a little push on the shoulder, taking you out of your train of thought, as if the world had returned to its normal speed, you nodded, leaving to pick up your bow, arrows and those new poisons that you had been making in your little laboratory inside Kid's workshop.

Wire, who came right after you left, narrowed his eyes, watching as your hunched figure faded through the dining room door, sharing a look with his companion as if they read each other's thoughts. They were both the first to notice how you seemed more subdued and distant every day, as they found themselves spending more time with you, although at first they attributed it to you simply being tired, something told them it was something deeper than simple tiredness.

"Do you think something's wrong with the boy? He's been avoiding spending time on the deck lately."

Heat nodded at his friend's question, knowing that you seemed to be avoiding everyone lately, making a mental note to ask you about it, both of them split up to get their weapons as well, they were going to rob a small town in about ten minutes.

Your gaze was lost, focused on your bow, lips in a thin line, you clenched your fist around the weapon, startling when you felt a huge, cold hand against your head, Kid had a habit of giving you caresses on the head a little roughly before a battle, a strange feeling stirred inside you, something that you supposed was good since it was not the same feeling you had when you experienced anger.

"Be careful and all that, but above all, crush them."

Kid was certainly not the most encouraging person, but taking a few minutes with you before each battle made you feel good, a small, shaky smile decorated your face for a few seconds, unknowingly, your captain's words had added more weight to your shoulders, of course, not intentionally, but you would feel like a complete useless if you did not do your job well.

The moments before and during battle always become a blur of images, as if you have no control over your own body, leaving it on autopilot, just shooting from a distance, only physically intervening if some idiot dares to get too close to your position.

You didn't have to make much physical effort most of the time, you conserved a lot of energy by having a more defensive position, leaving the action and enjoyment to your bloodthirsty comrades, but your enemies were not in front at the moment, your own immune system was the one who decided to give you a rear stab, like a traitor. Your senses began to fail and immediately fear settled in the pit of your stomach, a strange and unexpected sensation, your body began to tremble even when you insensitized it with your skill, your hands, your legs began to not respond, the tingling at the tip of your fingers intensified and it seemed as if your skin was cracked and dry.

The failure in your system made you fall from the tree you were in, with your senses completely disoriented you began to feel pain like small needles sticking into every corner of your body, your chest rose and fell rapidly, your pharynx seemed to close like a snake taking your breath away in a deadly strangulation.

Killer, who was the closest to your position, was the one who heard the smack of your body against the ground, as well as your weak moans, giving you a sidelong glance, his body went cold in a second as he saw how you struggled to stay conscious, forgetting about his main task, although it was practically finished, he immediately went to you.

"Hey, hey, are you okay? Damn, have you been attacked? Please listen to me, try to be with me just a little longer and don't lose consciousness... kiddo? kiddo!"

He shook your body carefully, trying not to touch the parts of your skin exposed and full of scars, Killer despaired when you began to close your eyes, taking you in his arms quickly, returning to the safety of the Victoria Punk, completely confused by your sudden fainting, yes, he knew that sometimes you left your own skin at work, in battles, but you always seemed to be full of energy, ready for another assault, what happened this time? There were no enemies around.

It was the day after that event, you met up with the group of four, Heat, Wire, Kid and Killer looked at you expectantly, making you shrink in your own place, you didn't know how to start talking, you felt pressured, caged at that moment, there were so many things you wanted to say and yet so few words with which to explain yourself. You didn't speak that day, or the next, or the following week, which got on the crew's nerves, although they weren't the friendliest or funniest pirates, they were still like a family and despite not showing it to the outside, they all had a deep concern for your state, so broken and fragile being a simple teenager.

Wire had to stop his captain from exploding at you because of this whole strange atmosphere of uncertainty, and if it weren't for Killer, who decided to take matters into his own hands, Kid would surely have taken out his problems with an argument, luckily, his best friend and co-captain was much gentler, perhaps, one of the only people on board who could make you understand in a less complex way the feelings of duality you were going through.

Of course, you released some emotional weight after a long talk with Killer, it didn't make all your worries go away, the chronic illness will haunt you until the end of your days, it was something you had to bear and accept, and they would take care of keeping your mind away from bad thoughts.

They don't know how they'll do it either, solving such complicated, emotional and personal problems wasn't something they had much experience with, but they'll go through this process together, they promised that you'd never have to feel that way again, that you'd never go through that again, but it'll still take you some time, the most pessimistic thoughts are the ones that take root the most in the mind and destroy it, but at least, they already have somewhere to start.

[elviehun]

Okay so. I'll probably lose some followers now and I'm sorry but I couldn't care less about that shit (tumblr is my emotional/thirst support corkboard and a place to interact with a few cherished friends and nothing abt being any kind of cool or popular or anything and I never was either of that thankfully). I am not gonna sugarcoat this.

SERIOUSLY. GUYS.

ANYONE. MAKING. FUN. OF. BOB'S. DEATH. IS. A. SHITTY. IMMATURE. TROUBLED. PERSON.

I'm not going to defend ANY of his 100% wrong views and some truly fucked up actions in the past but he was A PERSON. Not to mention a person with very, very unstable mental health who tragically just went further and further down after being smashed into superstardom - which trajectory ended on a really traumatic note for everyone involved. He was a mentally ill person whose actions in the past months/years might have been lashing out in frustration or cries for help or possible red flags for s*icidal thoughts. Yet he is reported (fuck TMZ btw for immediately capitalizing on sg like this) to have been found alone weeks after his death. Adding that nobody seems to have missed him for weeks? and the hate replies and kys 'jokes?' from literal KIDS on twitter to the mix just makes the whole issue all the more messy and sad.

If you claim yourself an mcr fan and sent hate msgs to anyone!!! struggling with mental health EVER, let alone a former member of a band you claim to love, and especially a band so outspoken about mental health awareness and s*icide prevention, I have no excuses for you. Go fuck yourself. Life is no fucking game or a meme pool, people are no darts boards of your own frustrations, grow the fuck up or SHUT the fuck up. I'm sick to my stomach learning about those actions.

Anybody 'celebrating' his death should just consider for a fucking SECOND (even if you don't have the emotional intelligence to consider that he probably has a family mourning and in deep regret right now) what the guys must be going through these moments. Right after letting the whole world know they are about to tour on and celebrate the legacy of the album that he played an essential part in. Regardless of what might have gone down among them back in the day, it must be very uncomfortable and frankly, devastating, for the boys to hear about the way his life ended. I hope the family and the guys are taking care of themselves.

Honestly I was always neutral about Bob while he was a member, and again, no excuses for some shitty things he said and believed in, but he WAS a great musician and the best album of the century would NOT be the same without his contribution. At least respect that, if nothing else.

I'm just sad that he doesn't have the chance to turn his life and wrongdoings around now. 44 is way too young to go.

May his spirit find peace. Rest easy, Bob.

[lostinvasileios]

im very sorry for asking this and please ignore it if its too much but,

have you.... ever been... su1c1d4l during your journey? did it... i dont know, ever make your deities feel... disrespected? like, you cant stop feeling so depressed and hopless and it just sort of hurts them? something like that? im sorry i dont know how to phrase it

thank you for reading this im so sorry if it triggered you or anything

Greetings, sweetbee. I'm so sorry you're feeling this way, please, don't feel worried about reaching out to someone about this. I'm happy to help. 🩷🩷

Okay, so... Baby bee, it doesn't hurt deities when you feel depressed. When you battle suicidal thoughts. Or anything else that falls under those categories. Self harm, abusive environments, ect. They don't expect you to live for them, they don't expect you to suddenly become happy and for your mental illnesses &/or struggles to just pop out of existence because you're now worshiping or practicing.

Because they understand it.

I believe gods were once human a few times. I believe that gods understand the conditions, the harm, the - well - everything. They aren't going to approach your vulnerability with demands.

Now... I did struggle with it. I still do from time to time. I dealt with suicidal thoughts and depression since I was in the 2nd grade. And, in no way did it ever... Harmfully impact my relationship with my deities. My self harming never made them disgusted, they never judged me for the ways I'd cope, for the triggers I had, for the needs they met during my toughest times.

Yes, you can live for a deity or deities. I actually do it. It saved my life. But it's optional. And they won't feel - betrayed, or something like that because you cannot say with certainty you'll live for them. That you'll survive for them.

I didn't have a reason to keep living, I didn't see one. And that's why my deities became it. That's why we swore it to one another. Not out of obligation, not out of fear of them being hurt from otherwise.

In my experience, the only hurt I've seen from my deities regarding my mental issues and ect, was - well - the pain it caused me. It pained them to see me in pain. But it didn't make them want to leave me, it didn't make them irritated or feel disrespected because I cried in their presence. They didn't feel disrespected when I had so many fears and doubts that I for a long time couldn't even believe they were really... Real.

Deities know the difference from fear, from sorrow and pain speech, to disrespect and blatant hateful speech. They know your intentions, even if you yourself do not.

It can hurt your deities when they witness their beloved going through such a hard time. When they see them going through abuse, torment, and inflicting that pain on themselves, or seeing it as they deserved it/ect.

Deities want you to live a life that makes you happy, that's - healthy and loving for you. For your soul. They don't want to see their loved devotee/practitioner off themselves, to cut or starve themselves, to punish themselves for what other people did to them or what they feel is deserving of doing so. If that makes sense. They want to help. To be there. To try and let you see that you are lovable, that there is a life out there for you, that - you're worth it.

Apollon witnessed my depression firsthand when I started practicing. He didn't scowl at me when I was crying my heart out. Snotting and gasping, just - being a very big mess in front of him. He didn't see me as weak or as disrespectful. In fact, I've found out that deities - enjoy it. Well, not seeing you so upset, of course. But they enjoy that you trust them enough to do that with them.

To let yourself be so - raw. To feel these deep, stabbing emotions around them. From what I've experienced, they love being able to comfort their sweet ones. They love being able to tenderly hold them and shower them in kisses &/or kind words. To - reassure them.

Apollon listened to my vents night after night, he held my hands and let me know I was heard. I was - seen. I was loved.

Despite how much I feared love, despite how much I thought nobody would ever be able to understand, my deities showed me just that. Understanding, love, care, gentleness, and everything else I thought I never deserved. Especially not from beings so beautiful and perfect in my eyes.

You don't need to be scared to show your emotions around your deities. To show them your wounds. To - show them your pain. Just as, you don't need to be afraid to show them your happiness. Your interests. Your safe spaces.

Your deities want to be there for you, I promise. 🌼

[ghostchems]

i am definitely feeling much better after this little extended break from tumblr.

it’s nice to just write what i want and not be worried about what’s popular, what people are talking about, will i get notes, etc. i’m like in my own little world and i only really focus on the feedback i get on ao3.

i haven’t missed the drama that gets stirred up, the anons that get sent out of anger and people acting like their headcanons are CORRECT when we can interpret ghost however we want.

i want to dig in a little bit on what sent me away though.

i had an experience with someone in the fandom. they were in a server i was in. they were pushing their fic which is fine and i love when people are passionate in what they write about but it was a ship that is very polarizing in the fandom. i follow people who ship it and am able to scroll past and support their other works, but this was in a server so it was forced on me and other members.

a channel was created specifically for the ship. but they kept on posting outside of it with their fic and things about it until it got to the point where i very nicely asked them to keep it in the channel that was made for it. i am not being subjective when i say i was nice about it. i was. I can understand wanting people to read your fic and being super into what you’re writing and stuff. i even said that. but at that point it’s like im sorry im not going to read it because i just don’t want to read about that ship.

then things got really weird. messages were sent and then unsent. they told me i triggered their mental illness. basically making it out that i was the problem, that asking them nicely to keep it to the specified channel was the problem.

that was the final straw man. i am sure a lot of people have run into issues like this on here where people just don’t care about your feelings and make themselves out to the the victim no matter what. it really turned me off to this community I’ve been apart of for like two years.

it’s like people forget what ghost is all about sometimes.

we’re supposed to be nice to each other and support each other. to listen and do better if someone is uncomfortable or tries to establish a boundary, especially in a place like a server. it’s okay that we all ship different things and headcanon different things but just be chill about it man.

i also want to point out some of the good though — I’ve met some really REALLY lovely people on here. people i talk to every day. that are nice and kind and funny and creative. i wouldn’t take back the time i spent on here for anything. i am very thankful to ghost for helping me find like-minded people who are just really awesome friends.

unfortunately, i do not foresee myself coming back here and being active like i used to be ever again. and that's okay. we all have to do what's best for ourselves here. but just be wary. set up those boundaries if you need them.

take care of yourselves here, friends.

[cheesecakeislazy]

Disventure Camp All Stars, Season 3 Episode 21. The final episode review…

Wow… I.. I cannot believe it’s over. Sure, we’ll be getting our season 4- but? This? Wow..

I’m actually… kinda glad that Riya won. It showed her that being a bitch will make her lose in any other situation. She got the money, but everything else and everyone else? Hates her. Wants nothing to do with her. Wow.

ONC- I might shit on you for being bad writers, because let’s be honest- a lot of Indie shows tend to have some issues. Season 3 was the best animated show, yet still had some writing problems. For example- within this last episode, Tom states that he has (canonically) been waterboarded. How many torture tactics has Tom suffered through? Why doesn’t he have any sort of mental illness from that? It doesn’t make sense to me at least.. but I digress.

1. Tom being Tom carried this episode, he made me laugh the most. Thanks Tom and his VA for being amazing.

2. Ally and Jake actually managed to become friends? Not really.. personally? I think that they both respect each other. I don’t want them to be friends, I enjoy their sibling rivalry dynamic. But it adds a layer of the dynamic to establish the fact that they respect each other.

3. Fiore and Alec found family? Thanks for making me want to cry ONC- you always knew how to pull my found family heart strings. I love their dynamic, Fiore being worried for Alec added years to my lifespan.

4. Wish I got to see more Jakeden moments- but at least I saw some Jakeden Fanart at the end lol (btw I am actually working on the rewrite, I just happen to be busy.)

5. Connor!!! YES!!! HE GOT TO BE HAPPY! I wish he slapped Riya- but oh well, they can’t all be winners. I really hope that we get to find out her name and how they met, please give me Connor’s new wife backstory.

6. TomJake is my 2nd favorite DCAS ship- so I’m actually okay with them getting back together. I won’t forgive them for making all of us suffer though- Odd Nations may suffer for making us go through hell.

7. Still think they should make HunTessAlly a poly couple- so let’s just pretend it happened off camera…

8. I might be wrong but was there nsfw art in the Fanart section of the episode…?

9. Riya is a bitch, I refuse to feel sorry for her. Suffer. You deserve it.

10. I really enjoyed this episode despite that possibly being a hot take..

I’m really glad that they decided to make Jake.. happy. I was so scared that the entire time he would act like “Noooo! I’m a failure!!” And completely disregard his growth. Thankfully, the writers aren’t that bad.

Surprisingly- I don’t have that much to say this time. Can’t wait to see everyone else’s reactions though..

[prying-pandora666]

“The Search” Rewrites, Book 4: Air, Leaks, and A Call for Help from the Fandom

I’ve talked a little about the Book 4: Air restoration project @book4air. If you haven’t seen it yet, check it out! Three full episodes are already out and episode 4 is going to cover Zuko’s early days right after his banishment, exploring his relationship with Iroh and the world as Zuko understands it as a lost boy rapidly coming into manhood.

Wait until you hear the VA’s performance with music and everything! It’ll break your heart.

But I want to talk a little bit about what comes after these next few episodes: our adaptation of “The Search”.

If you’ve seen our adaptation of “The Promise”, you’ll know it was quite faithful. This won’t be the case for “The Search”. For the purposes of the overarching story we are telling, this story is getting overhauled. (Please still support the original release if you’d like to see the canon version).

The biggest change that’s been announced is the addition of Toph. The team felt that a story about family, identity, and faces could benefit from including Toph’s perspective as she comes from a unique but toxic family situation, has a strong conflict between the performance expected of her versus who she really is, and is completely blind and so faces don’t even register for her.

Here is the sample scene we released:

But I want to talk a little bit about what we are changing about Zuko and Azula’s roles in the story. While the set up is virtually unchanged, there is one small alteration that makes a big difference.

(Sorry for the poor quality, this is technically unreleased content and I’m being kinda risky leaking it.)

Ursa’s letters are now a diary. This means that rather than get random flashbacks, the narrative framing now becomes Zuko and Azula reading these entries together. As a result, they get to discuss their discoveries about their family, and even share each other’s perspectives.

What that means is that when things like Zuko dangling Azula over the cliff happen, now we actually are forced to address it. The characters have to talk about how they treat each other and the reasons why. They have to confront the toxic family dynamic they’ve been forced and groomed into since childhood. Zuko has to realize his mentally ill little sister isn’t the monster here and in fact he’s the one with all the power now, and Azula has to realize that Zuko can be trusted if she can let go of her fear long enough to talk to him about her vulnerabilities.

We also address issues like this:

Many people criticize this for being OOC, but I think there’s a way this could easily not be. Sokka has been known to be juvenile and reactionary as a first response, the difference is that he always eventually apologizes and learns from his mistakes. Without even needing to be asked.

Threatening a mentally ill person who has just been removed from an asylum—even as a joke—is not okay. It would be questionable even if they’d been friends before this, but considering their prior relationship it really does seem like an boneheaded lack of awareness or compassion for how triggering this could be.

So rather than remove this interaction, we addressed it. And I am really taking a risk posting this here, but here is a brand new script page:

Sokka isn’t just comic relief. Sokka is smart, Sokka is compassionate, Sokka is brave, and Sokka knows when it’s time to apologize and reach out versus when it’s time to fight.

Safe to say, there are several things that stay the same and we tried to keep faithful to the spirit of the story, but there’s a lot we wanted to do for the Gaang and for the Fire Sibs, and I hope you’ll join us on this adventure, whether you’re a diehard fan of the comics and just looking for a fun AU, or you hate the comics and would like a rewrite, or even if you’ve never read them and would just love to return to the world of ATLA.

The only trouble is, we can’t do it alone. The project is very expensive and time consuming to produce. Our team pays for everything out of pocket and some of us don’t even have reliable housing, so it’s been a hard time.

If you can help in any way, even only by spreading the word so YouTube will stop burying us in the algorithm, that would be huge!

If you can afford to help, we have a Patreon where you can get all sorts of early goodies.

Reblogs and comments greatly appreciated! As the head writer and voice of Azula, this project is very near and dear to me. Avatar was my first pro-writing gig when I was just a homeless 19 year old, and it’s here for me again as I struggle to rebuild my life and health that COVID destroyed.

I love this series and the community that has helped me through the hardest times in my life. I can’t wait to make something beautiful with you all!

[jaskierx]

[CW for discussion of severe mental illness (PTSD) and suicide]

I want to add my perspective to the conversation about canyon people picking and choosing which disability rep is worth telling. It’s really offensive to me because I’m mentally disabled so it feels like these people are glossing over the mental illness rep in the show.

I hesitate because i do not want to seem like I’m chastising people for acknowledging the physical disability rep. OFMD has better physical disability rep than any show I’ve seen, while I’ve seen many shows with mentally ill characters. I also do not want to give credit where credit is not due, because ultimately these characters don’t have any diagnosed mental disabilities. However, I don’t think that that subtracts from the representation because 1)the show obviously takes place before many mental health diagnoses that we have now did,2) even if those diagnoses did exist, the crew would not be able to access them, and 3) I think the show is clearly trying to tell us that characters are suffering from PTSD, or at the very least struggling to process a traumatic event, they just don’t have the words to describe it as such.

Many characters exhibit what would today be classified as symptoms of a psychiatric disorder. In this fandom we often joke about that, especially Ed’s (which is more than okay), but I also want to appreciate the way that season 2 deals with the trauma of the kraken era. They freak out and have flashbacks over blindfolds and birthday cakes because of what they’ve been through. They have interpersonal conflicts due to differing ways of processing the trauma and not seeing eye to eye on each others own unique experience (Lucius and Pete come to mind). Lucius takes up smoking to cope with the pain. Ed dissociates (I think, because he doesn’t remember wanting to have a talent show) and is literally suicidal, first passively (“you mean curl up into a ball and die?”) and then actively (the whole storm thing). He also turns to using drugs to self medicate.

Anyway sorry for the novel I just wanted to add my perspective because this show means a lot to me as someone who’s mentally disabled and I want to know if anyone else with a mental disability feels the same/differently.

no don't apologise this is a really good point!

i've posted about it a few times and so has glam and several other people whose links i don't have to hand but the depiction of ed's mental illness and his suicidality is fucking spot on and the show absolutely deserves all the praise it gets for that

especially because it's quite possibly the first show i've ever seen that depicts suicidality in a way that manages to be accurate without being pitying and manages to be hopeful without romanticising the issue. the show brings ed to his lowest point and then shows him being helped to come back from that by people who love him. it tells us that there's always a way for things to get better and that you can get there by yourself but it's easier if you have help, and it tells us that this help is available because there is always going to be someone waiting for you even if you doubt that. it never shows ed as 'cured'. it never shows stede being angry with ed for his symptoms. when lucius suggests that ed might just be 'broken', stede very quickly shuts him down and the show makes it clear that the narrative is on stede's side here.

and all of this just doesn't get brought up by izzy stans. discussion of mental illness portrayal tends to be one of the following:

ignoring ed's arc altogether to focus on izzy's suicide attempt and his 'i want to go' line while he's on his deathbed (and in a massively different place to where he was in s2e2) and using this to pretend that the show's message is 'disabled queer people deserve to die' (yes unfortunately this is a take i have seen with my own two eyes)

writing ed's arc off as an example of 'magic dick' and using this to pretend that he was fine as soon as he got stede back

ignoring ed's arc completely and instead insisting that he's a violent serial killer and abuser with anger issues who traumatised the crew and will inevitably physically abuse stede and kill all their inn's customers

ignoring all portrayals of mental illness completely because they will deliberately downplay the disability of every other disabled character in order to centre izzy

the canyon will bend over backwards to centre izzy and to view the entire show through a lens where he is their longsuffering protagonist who can do no wrong and it's led them to ignore so much of what makes the show great

[mrgladstonegander]

MORE BOOTLEG DUCKTALES ‼️team science (oops! all identity issues!) edition

team magic here

archimedes gallas / gyro = more like other versions where he's nice but this man is carrying SOOOO much guilt. insane amounts. his entire character is focused on how much his self-worth is down the drain (also hes being haunted by the narrative (phoebe/della)). also he's half japanese. based off the onagadori

cherry pekin / huey = has a similar problem to archie where she has overwhelming feelings of needing to seem mature, and responsible, where she overworks herself

sydney eggtooth-diazi / fenton = REALLYY wants to seem like a Professional Normal Dude. repressing EVERY urge to wear silly ties. sees morality in a black and white sort of way and it WILL cause problems later. he puts archie on a pedestal and its super obvious and it just makes archie more mentally ill

salem milly / gandra = planning to really lean into how she joined fowl bc they were the only ones that supported her. mainly the contrast with how the Main Family supports each other with unconditional love, the love she has is purely conditional, and she's constantly convincing herself that she Wants to do bad things, and that she doesnt care about these people, because despite how she says she only listens to herself, shes stuck to FOUL, and thats her 'family'. based on mille fleur d'uccle

frankie loon / fethry = IT IS PART OF TEAM SCIENCE‼️ after getting back to mainland after being alone at sea for four years, he joins as a janitor. pulling back the marine biology in the sense that he is interested in EVERYTHING. man of a 10000 copies. winning the idgaf war (DOES care abt how his family is disinterested in his interests but its FINE because HE cares its fine its fine. he's accepted he'll be alone). its presence WILL send everyone else into a shock about their identity. hopefully it'll happen vice versa as well

widget-time-tech / widget / gizmoduck / lil bulb = theyre being consolidated and also theyre lil bug guys now!! i dont care if you hate bugs theyre cute as shit!! widget is Usually in the little ball, but also helps control the suit with sydney. it still has anger issues so it'll make things harder for sydney rather than just silly incompetence. and it was DEFINENTLY made to be a superhero ai. no other purposes. at all. certainly not messing with the fabric of time. just helping the ppl of the town :)

mad clucktor / mad clucktor = iwhile he IS a villain he isn't necessarily a bad person. hes a physical manifestation of the part of archie that WANTS to be alive! that KNOWS his worth! he doesn't have to work himself to death to make up for his guilt!

and he's the reason why toby is even active. why he's back

toby / boyd = cannot be normal abt this sorry

he was made to be archie's idea of the "perfect boy". the perfect kid. what he wants to be what he WISHED he would be growing up. hes happy, he can do everything right, he's intelligent, he's strong. his existence is free of human doubt and anxiety, he's the perfect boy and if he was in archie's place everything would be fine

but it isnt! he gets used! toby's used for evil through no fault of his own. but he becomes a symbol of things that are "wrong" about archie. toby didn't resent anyone or be upset with how people treat him. toby doesnt have his own needs. he can do whatever people need him to do. toby was his symbol of hope but becomes a symbol of how everything with him goes wrong. he becomes an unachievable goal that archie is trying to be to make up for the existence of toby!!

and so the only way for either of them to be "truly human" is when archie learns that he doesn't have to be perfect. he never had to be. even if he's made mistakes, he still deserves to LIVE!! he doesn't have to hide his pain and discomfort for anyone!! and its okay for toby to be toby!

[questionableratatouille00]

𝓜𝓸𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓞𝓷 12

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Wanda and Y/n have decided to move in together, in Wanda’s house. Though Y/n is sad to say goodbye to her apartment, especially considering who used to live there with her, her friends help her say goodbye. Life goes on, even though bad things happen. And it’s true, bad things do happen. The most important thing is how you deal with them.

Warnings (Entire Series): This series deals with mature topics, including, but not limited to: death, mental health issues, physical, emotional, and sexual abuse, grief, trauma, general unwellness, illness (both mental and physical), and a most likely inaccurate portrayal of group therapy (though it’s much better than whatever was going on in TFATWS.) Please mind the warnings below.

Warnings: fluff and the end. If you spot all the references to previous chapters I’ll kiss you on the mouth.

🌻Series Masterlist 🌻

𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐎𝐧

You walked down the aisle, your dress making you feel confident in every decision you’ve made thus far.

You felt beautiful as you glanced at the woman you love.

Looking at her made everything worth it. You continued to walk down the aisle as the music played.

The beautiful decorations still managing to catch your eye even though you’d obviously been there when they were picked out. Everything was perfect about this day, down to every second.

You were so excited to go home tonight with your favorite redheaded woman, who was wearing her own fancy dress. She looked beautiful and she smiled at you as you walked.

You hadn’t been to a wedding in a long time, especially one you were participating in.

You considered your role to be pretty damn important, considering where you were and what you were doing.

Even though your shoes were somewhat uncomfortable and didn’t fit exactly right, none of it mattered because you were happy.

As you reached the end of the aisle, you stood next to Bucky as he married the love of his life.

At the reception, you met up with Wanda again. She was wearing a beautiful dress, with a sunflower pendant necklace to match her sunflower earrings.

“They look so happy,” she smiles. “I’m glad.”

“Me too,” you smile warmly. “I’m glad we’re happy. All of us.”

She grinned, looking up at you. “We really are.”

“You look a lot better.” Sharon said as she took a sip of her vanilla latte.

“I feel a lot better.” You took a sip of your own drink. “Thanks. For everything. I don’t think I would’ve made it out if not for your texts every once in a while.”

She rested her hand on top of yours. “I’m glad I sent them. And I’m proud of you for signing up for therapy in the first place.”

“Thanks, Sharon. That means a lot to me. It does.” You smiled.

“I’m sorry. For ghosting you all. It was dumb of me, and I shouldn’t have just ran like that, and I’m sorry I hurt you, and—“ You were cut off by Melina wrapping you in a tight hug.

“We do not care, sweetheart.” She murmured affectionately in your ear. She then pulled away.

“We are just glad to have you back.” Alexei said, clapping his hand on your shoulder in an almost-painful way. You knew it was his way of being deeply emotional.

“I’m only kind of sorry for breaking in.” Yelena said after a moment. “But I am glad to see you again.” She hugged you.

“Yeah. It’s good to see you too.” You felt a sense of pure love fill you.

You’d developed a new routine with Wanda.

You get up. You get ready. You eat breakfast with Wanda. You go to work. You drive home. You make dinner with Wanda and eat together. You end the night by turning on the TV to watch your favorite shows together.

You didn’t need to divide your life into two parts anymore. The world felt whole, you felt whole. Things were okay.

Life was going good.

“Considering this is our last meeting,” Coulson began. “I’d like to talk about something special.”

“Oh, don’t do that, you’ll make me cry.” Clint laughed.

The whole group chuckled.

“Alright, alright.” Coulson grinned slightly. “In one of our earliest meetings, we played the secrets game. If you don’t remember, that’s when I had you all write down a vulnerable thought or secret down on a piece of paper and we read them aloud. I think now’s a good time to claim our papers.” He set out each piece of paper down on the small table in the center of the circle of chairs.

You found yours immediately and picked it up as the rest of the group picked up theirs.

“How about we go in a circle and read them aloud? To see how much we’ve changed as people.” Coulson guided.

When it was your turn, you read your statement out loud. “I wonder if they regret being with me,” you read from the paper. When Coulson asked how you thought you’d changed since writing the words, you smiled gently.

“I’m more sure of myself. And..I have faith in my relationships and connections now.” You explained. Everyone smiled at that.

Then it was Wanda’s turn.

“Everyone I care about gets hurt.” She reads.

You freeze. “That one—I read that one. That was yours?”

She nods, a sheepish grin on her face. “I know I’ve changed a lot since then. I’m not afraid of losing people I love. Well, I mean, of course I am, but I’m never terrified the world will just suddenly end. Not anymore.” She holds your hand as she says it.

You walk out of therapy with your hand tightly held in hers.

Maybe there had been a point to all of it. Just maybe.

“Anyone up to grab lunch?” Tony called out as he was hopping into his car, Bruce getting into the passenger side.

You chuckled and flashed him a thumbs up.

As you and Wanda hopped into the truck, you turned on the radio. As you pulled out of the therapy center, the soft song filled the car.

Then you're left in the dust Unless I stuck by ya You're the sunflower I think your love would be too much Or you'll be left in the dust Unless I stuck by ya You're the sunflower You're my sunflower.

A/n: hoping I got somebody in the beginning. I have been thinking about that part since ch. 4 lmao.

Anyways I’m gonna start rambling about this series because it means a lot to me. I started this series in the summer (I think??), and I was in a completely different mental state. I love this series and I hope the people who read it do too. I’m glad I got to finish it.

In conclusion, it’s okay to move on. It will take a long time, it won’t be easy, and it’ll be hard. Maybe the things you deal with don’t ever go away, but they can improve.

Love you all. 💕🌻

[sophieinwonderland]

r/FakeDisorderCringe doesn't know what biblical canon is, atheists are offended by saying God is plural, and other people casually throwing out some blasphemies and ableism!

👎

For uncreative title.

Atheists Pretending To Be Deeply Offended...

So, let me guess, you're not actually Christian are you?

Those guys sure aren't.

So weird how people pretend to be offended over a religion they aren't even a part of.

(Let's be real though, that's most of the tulpa discourse.)

Oh... you considered converting.

That clearly gives you a say in this conversation. /s

Meanwhile, my host actually lived the religion. He was Christian through his teenage years, and as a child helped his mom teach Sunday School and went to sleep every night on a Noah's Ark pillow.

Sorry, I distracted from your point. We're thieves stealing from a religion. 🙄

Okay, let's talk "canon!"

I just... I LOVE this whole conversation! 🤣

THIS is actual cringe.

Does anyone see the issue here?

I'll let u/AdSuccessful3533 spell it out. Possibly the only person with sense in the thread.

It's not just Catholic Canon either, but Biblical Canon! Like, there's a whole Wikipedia article on it!

The sheer self-righteous ignorance of r/Fakerdisordercringe (and r/systemscringe) never ceases to amaze me.

All of these people so bent out of shape over the use of "canon" to describe biblical text as if that's not been in use for hundreds of years!

"Something a middle schooler would say."

The Heresies!

That's correct. This is NOT the modalism heresy.

Modalism suggests God is a single unified being who reveals himself in different forms. God being plural would mean that God is three beings in one. This is completely in-line with the views of Trinitarianism.

An example of the modalism heresy would be more like this...

Comparing God to Optimus Prime, arguing that they're just different forms like Optimus Prime in a truck form vs him in a robot form, is modalism.

But if modalism isn't enough, we've got some tritheism too!

Besides the tritheism... it's really hard to take people who are calling tulpas appropriative seriously when they don't even know basic facts about the most popular religion in the world.

Also, the part about System not being a term for a person with DID is technically correct. System is, rather, the term used for the total collection of all the alters. But it is very much a term used by psychologists and it's accurate to refer to the Trinity as a system in this way.

Also, if the Tritheism bothers you, don't worry! We're going to go right back to modalism.

The H2O metaphor is controversial for the same reason as comparing God to Optimus Prime. It suggests God is simply changing form to become these different things.

Miscellaneous

Can you show me that rabbit hole?

I'm the one who Tweeted that, and have NEVER been on the OSDD sub.

Who do you think I am?

No... it definitely doesn't sound right. Religion shouldn't just be a thing for neurotypicals.

If one believes in God, then surely God made all people, including those of us who have mental illnesses. Why should Christianity and biblical references be kept away from people with mental illness other than ableism?

I mean, if by in peace, you mean without endogenic systems, then no. You can't.

We're here and we aren't going away. Ever.

And we exist in all spaces, including in your churches and your religious communities. And Christian systems shouldn't be expected to hide who they are because our existence bothers bigots like you.

We're going to share this world, and we're going to share spaces. And that includes churches and religious spaces too. Deal with it. 🤷‍♀️

Acknowledgements:

I would like to thank everyone at r/fakedisordercringe for giving me the free material. For a subreddit that's designed to laugh at people for supposed "cringe," you all sure are a goldmine for it! 😜