#tw: trust issues

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (XXVI)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts 💚 (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... Danny has another hashtag breakdown! Diana helps mediate. Stinky Dad and the Alien Guy observe.

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

“His control over his emotions slipped during the interview,” J’onn sighs, hovering alongside Bruce as they carry down the hall.

Bruce grunts. He isn’t quite capable of complicated speech yet. The teenage alien crying, too scared to let even the internationally-favorite, universally beloved Wonder Woman hold him without screaming…a person he already knew would take care of him…

J’onn continues, nevertheless. The thin privacy of his mind aside, Bruce has always appreciated the Martian’s understanding of Bruce’s oft-shifting moods. “His memories of his home and his family were tied up with extensive pain. I would continue under the assumption that his human family turned on him after discovering his nature—there may have even been collateral damage to others around them at the time.”

Bruce breathes in. Bruce breathes out.

“He thought himself akin enough to humans to be betrayed when he was seen as an 'other'. He knows that he is far from home, he knows that he has been targeted for his non-human traits and abilities, and he has reasons to think that he may not return again—what they are, I could not tell, but the sentiment was clear. This escape was purposeful, as was commandeering the vehicle he used to do so. He is alone. He is scared.”

“Known or unknown threat?” Bruce growls, not quite up to elongating his bite into a full sentence. J’onn is more than skilled enough to skim lightly over the words, and match them to Batman’s pointed fury.

“Our patient is familiar with the threat. I could not recognize the insignia or acronym from his memories, but they had enough resources to keep him captive and alive—without food or water. Likely, for a lengthy amount of time.”

Bruce’s near-running stride slows to a stop. J’onn, ever-patient, floats to a standstill beside him.

“No food,” Bruce confirms, just to make sure he heard correctly.

J’onn nods.

“No water.”

“There was an alternative method used to keep him alive, although the details weren’t significant to him in his flashback. The method may have been possible due to his minor healing ability, or something unique to his species.”

No food, Bruce thinks. No water. Kept alive as a function. Worried that he’s meant to be used as a weapon, kept in isolation, afraid of what humans in uniform might require of him for help.

This isn’t just torture. It is, specifically targeting a half-human entity, entirely purposeful dehumanization.

Of a child.

Of a child.

Bruce inhales. Bruce exhales.

This is not something that will be solved short-term. He has to keep an eye on the long-term goals for this teen—safety, recovery, reassurance, and reintegration.

Doable. All he has to do is break larger goals down into reasonable steps.

“Update the pediatric psychiatrist that Dr. Martin referred him to on the details.” Bruce’s demand comes out as flat as it gets. It is hard, when he’s stressed, to make his words hit with any intonation. Everything he forces out is precise. To the point.

J’onn nods. “I will.”

“This is personal medical information, to be accessed only on a need to know basis.”  

J’onn floats slightly higher, something relaxed in his face. This is a significant gesture, meant to remind everyone involved that this is a child, not a resource, and not a mission to be solved. This is a patient. “Understood.”

“If you pass this on to Diana, do it in person. Minimizing documentation…” Bruce falters. There isn’t a strong, authoritarian way to phrase how he feels about being someone to store clinically cold information about a boy who had likely been imprisoned, if not actively experimented on, if not actively tortured. How he needed to minimize behaviors that would exactly model what was done to the boy by his captors.

A smile flickers over J’onn’s expression. It’s suitably fleeting, but it comes and it goes—and it’s extremely polite of him to emote so visibly for Bruce’s sake. He makes sure to project his appreciation as best he knows how—blindly, without a telepathic sense to know what J’onn will and will not see.

“Understood, Batman.”

Bruce grunts.

They split at the end of the hallway, each dedicated to their own tasks.

J’onn will inform the medical team of what triggers may affect their patient’s long-term recovery and the quality of their stay. He is a thorough and patient coworker, and Bruce is grateful to have him on his side.

Bruce, in the meantime, has a favor to ask of Alfred and Dick on their way back into Gotham; more importantly, this is a favor he has to ask of Alfred’s employment-provided Costco card.

*

There’s something new in Danny’s room.

He transfers himself into the wheelchair to look at it, scrambling down the bed the way the physical therapist taught him to—the new thing isn't at bed height, but it is pretty low, and it has a door that he could probably reach from seated height or standing.

The square thing’s door swings open.

Inside are…little water bottles. Canned juices. Those mushy fruit-filled bars, and something so obviously wrapped in a yellow Fig Einstein wrapper that even the gibberish non-English is super clear.

There’s a bunch of things. Just. So many; and all in a few different types, too. The whole thing is filled with so many choices.

…Huh.

There are disposable straws in the door. Danny has to borrow a nurse’s ID card to open the can tab in the end, and his unwrapping of a straw is more than a little shaky, but Danny takes his medication with a mango-pineapple juice blend instead of his usual cup of water, and he’s perfectly fine with that.

[hydro-city-zone]

JANE WINDSOR

Lore under the cut

The rest of the au (and some bonus images) can be found here.

Dark princess of New York from the year 2436, Granddaughter of The Queen of England.

Was once an airheaded frolicker with no care for politics, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚞𝚙 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚊��𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝙴𝚖𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝙴𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚑'𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎.

Happily engaged to her 𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚛.

Met him for the first time after following a paper trail left by a long-dead mystery solver.

Yes, he IS. Real. You just don't know him. He goes to another school.

Page of Life, wielder of Sceptrekind.

[wigglybunfish]

Can we name Mizu's cat "Chunks" It just seems suitable. Bahahahahahahha.

Yes, yes we could

[mil-hoples]

Once you care you're fucked

[strwbi-laces]

Sirius always insists he has a terrible memory. "Really terrible," he'll laugh. "Actually, what was your name again?"

Remus doesn't see it though. Not when Sirius always knows exactly where James left his socks, or what obscure extracurricular Pete's packed into his schedule now. Especially not when he learnt the dates for every full moon in the next fifty years when researching lycanthropy.

"You know, I don't think your memory is as bad as you say Padfoot," he mentions while they're alone in the dorm. Remus doesn't have a clue where James and Pete are but Sirius wouldn't even have to check the map.

"What're you on about? It's literally rubbish."

Remus raises a brow. "You had every single possible quidditch infraction stuck in your brain - before James did!"

"Yeah well," Sirius shrugs. "That's quidditch. It's just for stuff I care about."

Reaching over and grabbing the nearest textbook, History of Magic: Year 3, Remus flips to a random chapter. "Really? You cannot convince be you care about, hmm," he clears his throat and in his poshest, most snooty voice, says "Changes in potion composition during the French occupation of England." No one could care about that. Not even he did and he actually liked History of Magic.

At least the voice made Sirius giggle. "Shut up. History is easy, it's just dates."

"Then what isn't?"

"Uhh, I don't know," Sirius goes quiet more a moment, then laughs again. Though this time it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "See, this is what I mean."

Remus waits while Sirius works his tongue into words.

"I can't really remember much from my childhood. Sometimes my mum will say something, like 'you were such a difficult child, remember when you did so-and-so' and I pull up a complete blank. Merlin that's bad of me, huh? Forgetting how I hurt people."

Sirius' fists ball up in his lap and Remus wants nothing more than to take them between his hands and smooth them out. He settles for shuffling closer and pressing their sides together.

"And I make things up. That feels like a memory thing too. It's not out of thin air but in my head I'll make something my mum said seem a lot worse than it was. Or I'll forget what prompted it so she seems like the bad guy. Usually I'd call her a lying cunt y'know, but even my dad and Reg agree that it's something I do a lot. Making myself the victim."

He's shaking now, Remus can feel his tremors ripping through him as well. "Sorry," Sirius sniffs. "I'm doing it right now-" he tries to say but Remus cuts him off.

"I think," he whispers, taking hold of Sirius' hand in his palm and tracing the heart line with his finger, "that you're a far better person than you give yourself credit for. And maybe your mum is a bit of a lying cunt."

[mooneln0ne]

Messy comic about his Intrusive thoughts

[blip-blip-blop]

am i on my own?

[crush-echoes]

im so sorry to those that relate to what i post

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

this whole fear of repressed memories regarding sexual abuse has been following me around for years, probably since I became aware of memory loss/repressed trauma in the first place, but idk why it's been so intense this summer and it's really really frustrating how every time I think I've worked through it and gotten over it, I see a picture or someone says something and I'm all "I'M SCARED THAT THIS FAMILY MEMBER RAPED ME AS A KID AND I JUST CAN'T REMEMBER IT" and like. it's so frustrating because it's literally a symptom of OCD or whatever that I can't stop going over and over and over this, and it's driving me nuts that I can't seem to trust my own mind

[kiwibirbkat]

No because you don't understand how badly I need Nico and Kayla to be best friends

YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND

AKKAKAYAKY

Ok so in my silly little head the Apollo kids, Chiron, and some of the seven are the only ones that know that Nico is trans because of his internalized homophobia

Nico is disgusted with himself and doesn't want Will to have to deal with him

And Will, ever the sweetie, doesn't really get it but lets his sister, who is ALSO TRANS help him instead

And Nico slowly realizes that they both share a lot of struggles, like he's still struggling with self harm, Kayla used to before she got help

She also somewhat understands his whole eating thing because when she's in her depressive episodes her appetite is shit

So Kayla becomes like, his main medic. Because while Will loves him and is the head doctor of the infirmary, Nico is still new to the whole being loved and accepted thing, and *gasp* Kayla can't judge him for that! And of course, Will still doesn't really get it, but it makes Nico feel better, so he lets her take care of Nico instead.

So Kayla and Nico become best friends

And Kayla is loud and proud about her gender because she was still Kyle when she came to camp, so most seniors at the camp already know she's trans.

She's also pretty open about her sexuality, seeing as she's had crushes on boys and girls and not really hidden it.

Meanwhile Nico over here is terrified of anyone finding out he's gay, let alone trans??? He'd be shamed! Because of course he's still in the fascist Italy mindset, he doesn't understand that the world is more accepting

And she's slowly helping him accept himself

NO YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND THEY'RE SUCH BEST FRIENDS

PLS JUST LET ME HAVE THIS 🙏🙏🙏 (and write fanfics maybe??? 🥺🥺🥺)

[hopelessly-hopeful-romantic]

Knowing that your replaceable is the worst feeling. It proves that you were never needed, nor wanted, and that your absence wouldn't be a burden to anyone. That you aren't one of a kind. In fact, there are multiple different versions of you that are far better. You didn't leave a trace on anyone, and all that remains of your existence is a blur in a memory because you were only temporary for them. That even if someone cared, they would move on in a week, month, or year? All your efforts and attempts were wasted, no matter what you do, they still move on to someone better and leave you behind yet again. They never truly appreciated you to the amount that you did them, and mourning the loss of you would be pointless when you never really mattered to them in the first place.

[serickswrites]

Crime

Warnings: betrayal, stabbing, blood, wounds, trust issues, fade to black, guns, mention of murder, knife

Whumpee walked into the warehouse Friend had asked to meet them at. They weren't sure why Friend wanted to meet them there or what Friend had to show them, but they were more than willing to meet them. That's what friends do after all.

They froze as they walked through the door. This was wrong. This was all wrong. They opened their mouth to call out, ready to run, but a blinding, sharp pain in their back stopped them. The pain radiated through their body.

Whumpee's trembling legs began to give out, but strong arms wrapped around them keeping them from falling. "Isn't this amazing," Friend Whumper breathed into their ear.

Whumpee's head was swimming. The warehouse was filled with various stolen goods, guns, and other instruments of crime. What had Friend done? "H-H-Horrifffffyinnnnnnggg," Whumpee managed to stammer out.

"Ah-Ah, none of that, Whumpee," Whumper said, tightening their grip on Whumpee. "I want you to understand exactly why I brought you here."

Whumpee opened their mouth to protest, but Whumper twisted the knife in their side. Whumpee screamed their pain, their world whiting out.

"The police are on their way. They'll be here any minute."

"C-C-Catchhhh........yyyyou-ou-ou-ou," Whumpee gasped. They could feel their blood flowing down their back. The police had to arrive in time to save them. They just had to.

"That's where you come in my friend. The warehouse is in your name. Everything here is in your name. You stole all these things. You used these guns to kill all those people. You, Whumpee. Not me."

Whumpee didn't have the energy to be horrified. Didn't have the energy to scream their anger and horror. They barely had the energy to keep their eyes open.

"And the best part is," Whumper said excitedly, "I'll get the credit for catching you. For stopping you. Isn't that a wonderful thing?"

"NNNNNN," Whumpee managed to whisper. Their head was swimming and everything was becoming hazier and hazier.

"Don't worry, Whumpee. I'll be sure to visit you in jail. I'm sure they're going to be finding evidence of your crimes for years to come."

Whumpee heard the sound of approaching sirens. Heard the sound and hoped the police would see Whumper for what they were. Hoped that they would be saved. They hoped all of these things, but realized it didn't matter. Their tenuous grip on consciousness wasn't enough to keep them awake. As they slipped into oblivion, they hoped that someone would see Whumper for the monster that they were. And that they wouldn't pay for Whumper's crimes.

Tags: @mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @celestialsoyeon @st0rmm @ay5ksal @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe

[sweetsweetperil]

I’ve become so good at it,

An expert at her craft

Of anxiously loving

So much that I cannot stand

To the point it makes me sick

To hear your name like a forgein chant

In the mouth of another

[galaxygermdraws]

Absolutely. Obsessed with whatever episode 7 was. Who let Skizz and Tango do that. Who let them parallel Last Life like that. Also Gem being terrifying is so good I'm quite obsessed with her this series.

And uh. Tiny little doodle of the best base in the series. I'm not crying what r u talking about.

(reblogs with tags/comments appreciated. Thankyu)

[aloyslaststand]

Whumptober day 02: TRUST ISSUES

Amusement Park | Role Reversal | “You got away with the crime while the knife's in my back.” (Charlotte Sands, Rollercoaster)

Corrin and Takumi because Takumi was the first character that came to my mind with the "trust issues" theme. In another lifetime, he learns to trust Corrin, but in this one is a little too late for that.

Anyways, Takumi did nothing wrong.

[late-for-the-sky]

I used to make you promise you’d tell your kids about me one day, and you’d roll your eyes and tell me to fuck off.

But I really needed you to promise because I knew that I wouldn’t be there to watch them grow up.

Even though i won’t be there, I need them to know that their parents are the reason I did hold on for so long. To tell them about all the adventures we had and share our greatest memories. I needed that promise to know that I am still part of your story