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miz-chase · 2 years

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Can you imagine how long those two weeks were?

Sleep won't come, so why bother. Thoughts are too slippery, too dangerous, so stick to facts, to work, to solid bones in her hands. There's always more work to be done, always another body's story to tell. So she works. One bone laid down in the correct position beside the next, an entire body laid out in textbook precision. If she could just keep her thoughts as orderly and clean as these bones, that ringing in her ears will stop, that aching emptiness will pass.

#bones tv #bonestv #seeley booth #temperance brennan #booth x brennan #injury tw #gunshot tw #death tw #dissasociation tw #hospital tw #grief tw #bones fanart #redrew some of this and added a panel to see if itll flow better #at least booth looks better now #fanart

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mikka-minns · 11 months

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Okay so im gonna share my headcanon on why kuai liang didnt react to hanzo's death with much emotion (this isnt a theory, and its the opposite of Canon, i Just need to cope. Fuck off nrs, u suck! Fuck Canon too!)

Kuai dissociated when Scorpion told him Hanzo is dead.

He couldn’t proces the Thought of losing another person he loved(platonicly or romanticly, your choice). He disconected from and questioned reality. Felt like what is happening isnt real. Didnt help that Hanzo's past self was right in front of him. And this happened to him so many times, losing people he scared about, ever since he was a small child, that he didnt know how he should feel. Should he be used to this? Cuz he sure wasnt.

He couldn’t belive Hanzo is realy dead for quite some time and when he couldn’t deny it anymore, it broke him.

Then he went to the netherrealm and found him and brought him back and they lived happily ever after

Source? Shut up, Let me be in denial and happy, please.😭

#mortal kombat #This is Just one out of many of my psychological headcanons for our fav snowman #sub zero #kuai liang #Hanzo hasashi #Scorpion #tw dissociation #Dissasociation TW

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crows-talking-place · 6 months

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honestly the way chip reacts to other people's distress is actually super telling i cant lie

like when gillion gets upset about being lied to in ep 11, chip is affronted. offended. because with price never had the luxury of truth, he had to work out what was real and what was a game. he doesn't realise lying isn't usually part of a healthy relationship.

and llike. when ollie is possessed by the existential dread demons fighting ensa's house in ep 96, and is VERY CLEARLY not ok in the slightest, chip doesnt seem to understand. like at all. he takes this as a completely normal thing to happen. this tells us that he has not only experienced this before in some way, but also that he has ENOUGH experiences with completely shutting down that he sees this as Just Another Day.

i think we sometimes forget how fucked his past actually is

#jrwi #jrwi spoilers #jrwi chip #jrwi character analysis #chip jrwi #dissasociation #tw dissociation #dissasociation tw #cw dissociation #crow is talking #crow in fandom

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i-amtransexual · 2 years

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Dissociation Day

#me when i do writing #dissasociation tw #me when im being a silly little emotional guy

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vixensofdeath · 8 months

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every day it gets harder to live. I get out of bed and don’t know what I’m doing, I don’t know who I am, I don’t know what I want or need. I simply do not exist.

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thenightsystem · 1 month

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sometimes self care is turning on youtube to pretend like youre doing something, then disassociating for an hour

-host

#Special thanks to everyones favorite prosecutor for turning on youtube so i could disassociate for an hour #did osdd #osdd system #osdd #did system #osddid #osdd alter #sysblr #dissociative system #system things #system stuff #dissasociation #dissasociative identity disorder #tw dissociation

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sprinkleofquirk · 1 month

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Rather than explain that I cannot have Asperger’s syndrome because that hasn’t been included in the DSM since 2013 since Hans Asperger was, among other things, a fucking Nazi, I used my ✨healthy coping mechanisms✨ (kinda) and made these 🙃

And I say ‘kinda’ because I don’t… exactly… remember? Making them? They just kinda… ✨appeared✨ and a few hours had passed

#actually autistic #dissasociation #maybe #idk I was *in the zone*#you’re supposed to be the expert smfh #autistic adult #neurodivergent #neurodiversity #autistic things #actually neurodiverse #asd #autism #hyperfixation #hyperfocus #ableist bullshit #ableism #ableist language cw #tw ableist language #ableist nonsense

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fentanyl-rabbits · 1 year

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I want to live in the unreal (my head is my home)

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gaudypackshawty · 2 years

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#weirdcore #deathcore #voidcore #abuse victim #traumacore #ventcore #dereality #derealization #dissasociation #old web #oddcore #dreamcore #dirtcore #cybercore #trauma tw #trauma art

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aobabes · 2 years

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The fact that Sly literally only ever fronted whenever Aoba was being assaulted, abused, or nearly killed throughout DRAMAtical Murder yet to this day people still call him “the evil alter cliche” in terms of the general portrayal of DID in media really really bothers me.

He literally was split as a means to protect Aoba, which is exactly what Sly did. Did he go about it the wrong way? Yeah, I'd say destroying people's brains and giving people brain hemorrhages isn't necessarily the best way to ensure the safety of your system, but that's literally what an aggressive protector is in a system: An alter usually split to deal with physical, verbal, emotional, or sexual abuse and/or assault, but due to their misguided idea of what protection should and shouldn't be, they retaliate against said danger and/or abuse aggressively. They mean no harm to their system nor the body and it's the same case for Aoba and Sly.

Aoba literally acknowledges that Sly was never evil and that he just had a misguided idea of protecting him from harm in Ren’s route. Stop it with the “Sly/Desire is evil and that's his only character trait” shtick because it's annoying. He's just a smug little gremlin alter who likes to mess with people's heads, and what about it?? He's far from “evil” he's just a tiny bastard man who just so happens to have mind manipulation powers.

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sockeyesidequest · 2 months

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On Depersonalization

#illustration #procreate #digital art #oc #demon #dry ink brush #furry #fursona #otter #riverotter #art #depersonalization #mental health #behind the wheel #driving #scary #depersonalisation tw #dissasociation

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blindsighted · 3 months

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Mourning Dove

A storm was brewing far in the distance. Thunder rolled in the valley, still twenty miles out. Grey clouds set back the sunrise by an hour, and young Kakashi wakes all alone in his father's bed. He shivers. It feels empty in the house. He grips the covers tight just under his eyes, wide awake and alert.

pit pat

The first drops of rain fall against the glass in large splatters. It's going to be a big one. Kakashi shivers.

A low rumble creeps ever closer; ten miles out, and Kakashi sits up all at once, just in time for a bright flash of lightning to illuminate the still and shadowy space around him. It looks like his home, but with the color washed out. His eyes are round with large black pupils that disappear into a dark iris. They scan from left to right, searching for what is missing.

Another droll of thunder lifts him to his feet. They hit the wood grain with a soft slap and the cold jolts him a little more awake. His heart thud thud thuds against his chest and he swallows a dry lump to try and keep it from leaping out.

Something is wrong.

The smell of iron clings to the electricity in the air and Kakashi shifts one foot forward, then the next. His eyes stare wide and fixed across the hall and into the living room, where an unfamiliar dark stain just broaches the edge of the doorframe.

His feet carry him, one shuffling step after the other, closer and closer, until he's standing in the doorway. He can't make out the identity of that shadowy lump, so he steps closer...

A flash of lightning and a sharp bang shatters the darkness, and in that instant, Kakashi's world falls to pieces.

A fragile breath shakes loose from his constricting throat, but the boy doesn't move. His heart is frozen. It stabs through his chest and sends waves of ice and fire through his veins, till Kakashi can no longer stand. His knees give out and he collapses there behind his father's slumped over shape.

A timid hand reaches for him, the unfamiliar hand of a child, and when it touches his shoulder, he feels the solid touch of ice, far removed from the once warm and comforting presence of the man he'd known. The hand pulls back and disappears, and Kakashi sits still. Everything has stopped.

He exists here, and nowhere, for the person he was before has died. In his place, emptiness lives on.

#tw suicide #tw death #the morning Kakashi finds Sakumos body #as sad as it sounds #part of a series maybe #i have more #i just wanted to yeet it to the world #depersonalization #derealization #dissasociation #kakashi hatake #ic #please let me know if you liked it?

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myheartisonthetrain · 2 months

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tw s/h relapse, disassociation and meltdown description

something bad happening, reaching for a blunt object and half cutting yourself before realising what you're doing and then looking down at your arm that now bears red streaks indicating where you last cut yourself at least a year ago, and with tears trickling down your face, you wipe them up with your hand and rub it along the scratches, like how you used to wash your arm after they appeared, and you expect them to go away again like how you remember but the salt only stings more and now you're staring at yourself thinking 'no, no, no, no, i didn't do it, i'm not like that anymore, please, no, i'm mature now, i like myself now' and slowly remembering that no, it wasn't as simple as just cut and go, and that you blocked the hard bits out of your memory to stop yourself from crying every time you look in the mirror has got to be up there with the worst emotional pain ever

#maybe i do care when im shouted at #dissasociation #tw sh #vent #txt vent #when people do not react how you expect them to #and suddenly youre five years old on the floor sobbing and wondering what on earth you've done for their reaction to be so bad #autism vent #me when i remember #i hate remembering

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vixensofdeath · 6 months

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my life has just been a series of waiting to feel better and never being able to because someone or something happening. I’m tired of going two steps back every time I step forward. I just wish there were something out there for me, and if there is, I wish it’d come faster.

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whumpbees · 11 months

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Whumpee who has a hard time processing everything that's happened to them. Even after being rescued- it all just feels... distant. Far away. They keep expecting it to hit them but it just- doesn't. Maybe they eventually start to wonder, if it doesn't hurt- could it really have been that bad to begin with?

#honey posts #whump #whump prompt #whumpee #vent?#vent tw #me projecting onto a fictional whumpee go brr #dissasociating whumpee #rescued whumpee

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themalhambird · 2 months

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a[t/r]rest : escape velocity missing scene

RAVEN HITS THE WATER AND THE THAMES rushes, like a kraken that’s half starved, to swallow her whole. The murky brown water engulfs her, and then settles: she is gone, and might never have been there at all. She fell (and all evil above, there are days Max curses how well he can eyeball a distance) 63.7 metres. She was shot before she fell.

The black choppers are converging on the pod. At the speed they’re going, Max gives it three, maybe four minutes before those soldiers on the ropes are swarming through the escape hatch. That gives him just enough time for—

—what? He’s too far away from any allies for the commlink in his cufflinks to be of use. He isn’t armed. He didn’t come armed to a meeting with a friend who he had known was in some kind of trouble. Because he trusted Gregori, and because he was with Raven; because it was London and he had thought he had An Understanding with the anti-G.L.O.V.E forces that operated in London- an understanding that should have rendered this trap unspringable…

So much for that. His shoulder hurts. Why does his shoulder hurt? Gregori had been running from Number One himself. He would have had the foresight to arm himself. Two minutes and closing. Even if Gregori was carrying a weapon, Max isn’t going to be able to fight his way out of a glass pod suspended above the Thames.

He kneels by his friend’s body anyway, uncaring that his suit starts lapping up the pool of blood spreading out across the see-through floor. What are they making of this below, all those tourists scurrying about the Southbank, like so many worker ants? Gregori’s grey, blank eyes are fixed looking up at the endless expanse of sky.

“Proshchay moy drug,” Max says quietly, reaching out and gently closing those eyes. He bends down and kisses, first, his old friend’s forehead- then his lips. There’s an old, familiar anger warming up again in his chest- long dormant, but never fully extinguished and now grown just that little bit hotter- like the flame of a bunsen burner with a vent just cracked open.

The choppers move to block all four sides of the pod. There’s a loud thud as boots land on the roof. Max removes the signet ring from Gregori’s little finger and slips it on to his own. He takes the gold band from Gregori’s ring finger and slips it on to his own. They’re loose, of course. Gregori Leonov has made many cracks, over the years, about both the slenderness of Max’s fingers and the thickness of his own. But they’ll stay on Max’s hand unless they’re deliberately taken, and whilst Nero has little doubt that they will be taken, Max refuses not to try. When and if he gets out of this mess, he’ll find out what became of Madame Leonov’s corpse and if it’s possible, he’ll return her husband’s wedding ring to her.

A rush of cold air enters the pod, and the noise from the helicopters’ blades increases exponentially. Max stands slowly, and as he does so he feels, rather than hears, the thud of feet landing behind him. Six men- Max can see their vague, distorted reflections in the glass. They spread out, then close in riffles all trained on him and- ah, off course. One end of a rope ladder thuds down after them.

There, Max thinks distantly. Right down there. That’s where Natalya hit the water when she fell. She’d fallen further in her time, surely? And with worse injuries than a bullet-graze. Hell’s sake, why was his shoulder throbbing so—-

His gaze falls on spider-webbed glass. The bullet hole at the centre of it. Drops briefly to the tunnel bored through Gregori Leonov’s heart and…oh. Of course. He’d already been moving when the bullet broke the wall, his shoulder colliding with Gregori’s chest too late to pull him down out of the way, just quickly enough to support the already lifeless corpse and…

He reaches underneath the lapel of his jacket, probing at the shoulder giving him the problem. His fingers graze a wetness and recoil. When he pulls his hand back, his fingertips are stained with red.

“I SAID, TURN AROUND WITH YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR!”

Faint Gascony accent. The too-irritated tone of a soldier who knows he’s not allowed to shoot whatever it is he’s pointing his gun at, and really wants an excuse to do it anyway. Nero half turns, craning his neck round to look at him. “Terribly sorry, I wasn’t paying the smallest bit of attention,” he says, with all the cool, arch-politeness of a gentleman somebody else just barrelled into. He’s just about completed the one-eighty and is halfway through raising his hands when his vision fades to black for a moment. It fades back in just as quickly, but it’s not a promising sign.

“You are being taken into the custody of the Hostile Operative Prosecution Executive-”

“The what?” Nero’s never heard of such a group, which means that nobody in G.L.O.V.E has come across it before either, which means that somehow, an organisation with the authority to run a mission in Central London, in broad daylight, has sprung into being without anybody in Nero’s world noticing. How— no. No, if Number One was behind this, somehow, he wouldn’t need a front- and he wouldn’t be so foolish as to play at secret services in the M.I sandpit, not when it would have been just as convenient if not more so to simply target Nero’s shroud over open waters as he returned to the school.

If Max is lucky. If he’s very, very lucky. His credit is still good enough with Number One that even if G.L.O.V.E’s esteemed leader learns that Nero was captured whilst meeting a traitor, the man will assume that- had Leonov not been shot and Nero not been captured mid meeting- his longest standing, most faithful vassal would have dealt with Leonov for him. After all, Number One hadn’t alerted the rest of ruling council (why?) to Leonov’s supposed treason (what the hell had he found out?) and when Diabolus—

We don’t think about how it ended with Darkdoom, Nero’s dilapidated and long-atrophied conscience reminds him. That’s right, Nero’s sanity agrees: the line of thinking is, therefore, concordantly switched off and Nero re-focuses on the soldier, who is repeating, angrily: “The Hostile Operative Prosecution Executive-” and oh. Oh. It’s childish, but Nero simply can’t resist- he’s been shot through the shoulder and one of his best, last friends is dead on the floor, he’ll blame it on blood loss and shock if he ever has to. He smiles, broadly, and says:

“I suppose you’re hoping I’ll come quietly.”

The soldier growls- raises his rifle like a club and- honestly, Nero can see it coming, but why bother trying to block it? He’s not the one who’ll have to get his unconscious body up a rope ladder after, and with that joke he’s probably earned it—

Captain Denbas slams the butt of his rifle into the side of the prisoner’s skull. The prize malefactor crumples to the ground- felled like a sapling stood before a tsunami, though his head is spared a second blow. The corpse cushions it. This “Doctor Nero” character lands slumped across his dead confederate’s chest, instead of directly slamming into the cubicle's hard floor.

Pity.

“Jackson, pick him up,” he orders, glancing at the private on his far left. Jackson’s not the tallest man of the squad, but he’s got the broadest shoulders. Their prisoner’s easily more than six foot, but he’s thin. Jackson nods, moving to comply. “Alright let’s move it, go,” Denbas says, grasping for the ladder himself. “There’s a team down on the ground waiting to take care of the rest of this mess. 90 minutes,” (pulling himself up towards the eager, waiting maw of the chopper) “90 minutes, and we throw that son of a bitch in a cell, where he belongs…”

(Meanwhile Max is drifting, lost in a spinning world of cold, rational calculation and frantic prayer. Natalya fell. 63.7 metres. Natalya fell. Into water- into the Thames, and all associated muck. She was shot before she fell. An open wound, and such a very long fall, and so very vile a stretch of water. But she’s strong, she’s strong, she’s strong: she knows how to swim, and she’s survived greater falls, and far worse injuries, and dealt with similarly unsanitary conditions and oh! how swiftly flies the raven/ swooping ‘fore the jaws of death:/Thou fears her wings are stop’d from beating/but soars she still on Aura’s breath…)

#h.i.v.e mark walden #escape velocity #maximillian nero #raven #still mad we didn't get the Actual Footage of Nero's arrest so. I wrote it.#Does it get weirdly whimsical toward the end? yes. it's 2.20 in the morning I should have been asleep at least three hours ago #death tw #injury tw #blood tw #(i'm also still mad that Gregori Leonov was killed off never to be mentioned again)#corpse tw #grief and also kind of dissasociating behavoir?

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