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rbtlvr · 7 months

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(text from this post, fic is little kid with a big death wish by @remedyturtles)

i'm genuinely not sure where to start here - ig first of all this fic is absolutely incredible and if you somehow haven't read it yet you absolutely should!

okay. man. rem, this fic means so so much to me and i'm so glad i got to be here for it. i think this is one of those fics that'll stick with me years down the line even if one day i'm not into tmnt anymore, one i'll come back to over and over again

your writing has touched so so many people myself very much included, and i just. want to thank you so much for writing this fic and thank you for sharing it. you're an amazing writer and an amazing person and i'm lucky to know you. i can't wait to see what you do next

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #tmnt #little kid with a big death wish #my art #forgor all my tags its ok ill come back later <3 anyway #god theres legit so so so much more i wanted to say but i cant get. the words right augh #i kinda tried to put some of it in the comic though so. yeah. the emotions anyway #idk idk i just have a Lot of feelings abt this fic and how real it feels and just . man. it hits so so hard /pos #just... the fact that dw leo has been through everything he has and is capable of recovery and living. even if he doesnt want to live just #yet. hes getting there. makes me feel like i can too as cheesy as that sounds lajfd;lajlfkl #anyway ive rambled enough i spent ten (10) full days on this comic i am setting it loose into the world. be free #suicide attempt cw #dissociation cw #<- just to be safe. ask to tag if theres anything else lafj;dljsafkl

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onejellyfishplease · 6 months

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SnapDonnie, Confusion, Part 3

lol he forgor

(Prev) (Masterpost) (Next)

#rottmnt #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt leo #snapdonnie #cw memory loss #cw dissociation

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gascansposts · 3 months

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Danny as seen in the wonderfully heart wrenching post by @hypewinter

These designs (and notes) are mostly my own headcanons and preferences, so they aren’t set in stone or anything, but long hair Danny is definitely my fav thing ever! If someone else has also drawn test dummy Danny is love to be tagged to see everyone’s interpretations!

#it took me forever to finally find the post and then draw these two pages #funfact: I drew the first one like… a monthish ago? and the second one I drew just now #long hair Danny #test dummy Danny #dpxdc #dp x dc #dcxdp #dc x dp #art #yep #arty art #medical cw #cw dissociation #tw sickness #I think ?#Hrmg Tags hards

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coffeebanana · 4 months

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It felt eerily familiar, kneeling ghost-like beneath a vermillion sky. Doom crept though Antichat's chest, as thick as the acrid smoke scorching his lungs. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe. There was a weight in his arms—an inexplicable solace. And yet… Suddenly it didn’t weigh as much as it should. No. His eyes flicked downwards. No, no, no, no— All he held was a pile of ashes, moulded into the shape of a girl.

Some nightmares refuse to fade.

***

[Read the full fic below the cut or on Ao3!! CW: panic attacks, dissociation, depression]

Please, no.

Chat squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head to rid himself of a sudden, blinding panic pounding through his skull. But it was too late. Ladybug’s slate-stained image was seared into his mind, her face frozen in pain, devoid of everything that had once painted comfort across his soul.

Her mask was half-torn, such that Marinette's bare cheek was cradled closest to his chest. Like maybe he'd tried in vain to protect her from the blast.

From his own destruction.

A choked sound ripped itself from his throat, a painful lump following in its wake. He had no way to fix this, nothing to do but pull her in closer. To tighten his arms around her precious, fragile remains.

Another mistake.

She crumbled in his grip; ashes floated up like a mosaic, blinding his vision. Frantically, he pawed at the air—trying to gather her fragments, to force her back together. If he caught enough, perhaps he could papier-mâché her likeness. He could use his tears as glue.

But there was no time for that before a fiery breeze tore through the street. Marinette’s remains were swept away, and only Chat’s strangled cries could follow.

The further away they fled, the more he came undone. There was nothing left to tie his mind together, to keep his pain from exploding like a supernova.

Nothing to keep the world from collapsing in on him.

“What did you expect?” Nightormentor’s voice sliced through the smoke. “You’ve always been poison to the ones you loved most.”

NO!

With a frigid gasp—one that curdled his tar-slicked insides—Adrien awoke. Once again, there was a darling weight in his arms. Only this Marinette was warm and solid. Her limbs were tangled in the blankets she'd pulled to her side of his bed, and one of her hands curled slightly into his T-shirt as her breath tickled the fabric.

She was alive.

Adrien just wasn't sure his heart still knew how to beat.

He was too hot and too cold all at once, both drenched in sweat and trembling. His chest felt like someone had trampled it, and every attempt to breathe sliced further into the wound.

When he closed his eyes, the world was still on fire.

Stomach lurching, he carefully rolled Marinette’s weight off his chest. He couldn’t stay here, couldn’t listen to the even sounds of her breath without hearing echoes of his own sobs slip between them.

The room spun around him as he stumbled to the bathroom; the world still appeared as though through smoke—muted and unreliable, the air too thick to breathe. He collapsed to his knees in front of the toilet, his empty stomach convulsing, only to realize the sickness inside him wasn’t the kind he could expel.

He remained there, braced against the toilet seat, until his limbs eased their shaking enough for him to crawl away. Even so, he barely made it to the wall beside the sink before one of his arms gave out, and his cheek slammed a little too hard into the handle of one of the cupboards he twisted into a seated position. Hissing in pain, he let his face press against the wood there, shuddering at the way the cold surface shocked some life inside of him.

Time ceased to make sense after that. One moment, his chest was burning, pain reverberating through his back as he struggled to fill his lungs. The next, it seemed he’d become a giant cloud. A numb expanse of icy droplets, ready to fall at a moment’s notice.

Light gradually awakened the room, a subtle warmth flickering near the edge of his awareness. He only fully realized the day had come when, somewhere beyond the door he’d left ajar, the bed creaked.

“Adrien?” Marinette called. Her voice was gentle, but pierced through him all the same. “Everything okay?”

No.

Panic set in anew as footsteps approached. He swore he could somehow taste the blood pounding in his ears, and he clamped his mouth shut to keep from crying out. To keep from breathing, even.

He didn’t want to be found. Maybe, if he held his breath until his lungs screamed again, he’d remain concealed in his lifeless fog.

But ironically, it was harder to keep from breathing when that was his actual goal. He sucked in sharp breaths, timed to his heartbeats, and hid his face in his hands.

“Oh, Chaton...” Marinette’s slippers scraped across the bathroom tiles, coming to a stop within his sight. Too close. “Did it happen again?”

He managed a nod, bottom lip quivering as he bit back a sob.

A long exhale piqued his attention; it started as a noise from above and ended as a warm breath against his cheek. Kneeling at his side, Marinette rubbed her hands against her thighs.

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

Adrien shifted his jaw from side to side, guilt hooking its talons into his gut. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

It wasn’t a lie; he felt plenty bad about inadvertently dragging her here every night. She deserved the comfort of her own bed, regardless of whether he could actually get any sleep without her. So the least he could do was actually let her get enough rest.

But it wasn’t the truth, either.

And as she took his hand, carefully smoothing his fingers over hers, he had a feeling she knew it.

“Adrien…” She tugged his arm upwards, pressing a kiss to his fingertips. “You’re not going to hurt me.”

Biting his lip to keep from disagreeing, Adrien squeezed his eyes shut. With one less sense at his disposal, he was all too aware of the way she lifted his hand further, unfolding his fingers to press against her cheek.

“See?” she whispered, breath tickling the inside of his wrist. Her head twisted to the side, lips planting a kiss on the heel of his palm. “Everything’s fine.”

He swore he could feel the remnants of destruction prickling against her cheek. It took everything he had not to jerk his hand away.

Nothing was fine.

No matter how he’d come into this world, and no matter how much he despised the fact, Adrien would always be—in some way or another—his father’s son. Sometimes he swore he saw a glimpse of the man when he turned too fast in the mirror. Other times, a flash of fury would seize him; with a sickening sense of satisfaction, he’d know what it might felt like to be a villain.

Even worse, he was his mother’s son. His very existence had killed her.

He’d killed both his parents, in the end.

So no matter how much Marinette tried to console him, Adrien knew the voice of his nightmares had a point. He was a danger to her, to himself, to the world.

It might not even end up being his choice. All it would take was someone finding out what he was, and stealing the two rings he still couldn’t stand the sight of.

He was, at most, a liability. And Marinette deserved more than that.

She never agreed with him on that point.

“Look at me,” she said now. An edge crept into her voice, one that shocked him into listening.

His heart jumped at the blue of her eyes—filled with all the warmth that the fiery world of his nightmares had failed to hold.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice cracking.

“No, no, no. I don’t want you to be sorry. I just…” Tears filled her eyes. “I love you, okay?”

Adrien couldn’t say it back. He couldn’t find enough truth to shove into the sentiment—not when that was all buried beneath his own misery. It was like he’d returned to his nightmare, with smoke charring his throat and one all-consuming fear.

Just the tiniest wrong movement could ruin everything.

But if he didn’t give some kind of response, Marinette would only worry. So he tugged on her hand—maybe a little too hard considering her yelp of surprise—and guided her to sit between his legs. She moved readily into place, and Adrien forced himself to ignore the fear spiking through his veins, hugging her back to his chest.

Once settled, she twisted around and tried to crane her neck upwards, reaching a hand half-blindly up to his cheek. Heart squeezing in his chest, he tightened his grip around and pressed a kiss to her head.

She remained tense for a moment too long, but finally sighed and melted back against his chest. Her hand trailed lazily back down to her side, and her breath spilled into a hum of contentment. With her gaze fixed firmly ahead, Adrien could finally breathe again.

He didn’t want her to see the few tears he’d finally let slip down his cheeks—even if she’d no doubt hear his sniffles or feel the way the cries rumbled in his chest. And he didn't want her to examine him to deeply, to discover what he already knew.

One day, he would surely disappoint her.

#coffebanana fics #miraculous ladybug #lovesquare #post-reveal #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #antichat #nightormentor #post-s5 #angst #bittersweet ending #cw panic attack #cw dissociation #cw depression

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luveline · 2 years

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Can I request Eddie taking care of reader having a dissociation moment or having a withdrawal moment from everyone?

i used mind.org to find out about the symptoms of cw dissociation and though everyone experiences it differently, if there are any inauthenticities please let me know! ty for ur request ♡ gn!reader

Your friends are talking about the trip you went on together a few weeks ago. And you'd been there, you were there, but you can't remember what they're talking about.

"I thought she drowned," Robin says, giving Nancy a fond but rueful glance. "She was under water for, like, five whole minutes."

"That's gross exaggeration," Steve says.

The way he says it is strange. Almost as if he's underwater himself.

Eddie laughs behind you. You can feel it all the way into your chest, but if you close your eyes it doesn't feel like him at all. His arm around your waist may as well be a pillow, a pool noodle. It's not his arm.

You throw your hand out and feel for the rips in his jeans. Your fingers slide between the scraps of fabric and brush over his skin, the curled hairs smattering his thigh. You stroke your hand over them softly, thinking.

Eddie pulls your hand from his jeans and holds it. You sink down against him and feel the sudden jolt of being submerged. One second you're unsure, and the next you're positive. This isn't real. You're not here.

There's the sensation of being pulled. It should feel like a shift. A movement from one place to another. It doesn't feel like much at all. Like being sat at the bottom of a pool, actions at the surface can't reach you.

Eddie drums his hands over your thighs. His breath tickles your ear. "Come back," he says gently.

His chest feels flat under your back. You lean into him heavily, tilting your head back just enough to see his eyes. They move wrong, the pupils and irises all messed up like an egg with a broken yolk.

His eyelashes cut through the colours. He blinks quickfire and drops his lips to your forehead.

You turn back to the wall. Robin, Nancy and Steve are gone, though if they'd really been there to begin with is up for debate.

"Come back," his voice says again. "I'm right here."

"I know," you assure him, though you don't.

He waits with you for a while. The light feels blurred, his decorations melt into one thing, crayons in the sun, an inseperable hodge podge of colour.

Eddie pulls your arms out straight in front of you and runs his hands down the lengths of them. He squeezes them like he's emptying a piping bag, pushing feeling into your skin. He gets rough.

Eddie's never cruel, but it starts to feel hot. Your skin heats. The light filters in and the water tension you'd felt over your head breaks. You catch one of his hands to get him to stop and focus in on the feeling he's left behind.

"You okay?" he asks.

You climb out of his lap and spin on the spot to take in his living room. What was once unfamiliar becomes a thousand details. You take a deep, real breath and laugh weakly, barely a sound.

"Hey, it's alright," Eddie says worriedly, pulled forward on the couch. He reaches out for you and grabs the hem of your shirt.

"Yeah," you agree. You let him encourage your body into the space between his legs and take his face into your hands. He's half soft skin half stubble. The barest hints of it scratch your palms.

When you look into his eyes, they're right. They look like they've always looked. Brown and big.

"That was a bad one," you say.

He nods, brows pinched. "I know."

You wrap your arms around his head and cling to him, face shoved into his dark, wild curls. He smells real. He feels real. "You're real," you say.

"Always will be, sweetheart."

#eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson drabble #tw dissociation #cw dissociation #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson hurt/comfort #eddie munson x reader hurt/comfort

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pluralcultureis · 2 months

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Plural Culture (traumatized in general) is never knowing how to properly add trigger warnings because you've become so desensitized to everything that you don't know what's seen as needed, or what's doing too much

And half the time you don't even know how to tag it any way because "can I just put general tw? Do I need to specify which type of abuse is occuring? Is what's being said even clear/graphic/whatever enough for people to realize unless I add the tw? Would adding the tw make it worse??"

And then regardless of all that you still end up posting something that's apparently massively triggering, with no warning, because you thought it was just normal life stuff and then you feel bad about it but all you can actually do is just add the needed tws and apologize

*this is not an apology post, apologies from us will be much more clear if they're needed, this has not happened recently, but it's something that's been on our mind a lot

#endos dni #osdd #pdid #did #did system #pdid system #osddid #actually did #traumagenic #actually dissociative #plural culture is #tw abuse mention #cw abuse mention

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theswiftheartsystem · 3 months

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The whole anti-endo argument of “They just don’t remember their trauma” literally is a trap.

There is two main results of this argument:

A system realizes they are traumagenic, and this is now used against endogenic systems as a “SEE ALL ENDOGENIC SYSTEMS ARE TRAUMAGENIC”

Endogenic systems provide evidence and it gets ignored.

It is legitimately set up so you have no way to win.

They villainize “kindness” (quote because it’s not kind whatsoever) by playing the “I think they are real just confused 🥺” card.

This is not kindness. And to systems who may realize they are trauma-endo or traumagenic, all this does it pressure them into remembering trauma.

#did #did osdd #pro endo #did system #dissociative identity disorder #endo friendly #traumagenic system #actually plural #endo safe #syscourse #pro endogenic #endo system #endogenic #cw syscourse

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s0fti3w1tch · 1 year

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Here Here Here

(Donnie accidentally learns Leon's an OSDD System after an argument) (not for any AU, just something I made for me)

TW: Dissociation, Self-Blame

I don't really talk about being a system because of how people have treated me about it before. But it warms my heart seeing more posts about it so. I decided to maybe push myself a little to share somewhat of it. I still kind of feel imposter syndrome with my experience, but, here.

My twin is the only one in my family who knows this. Based off of my experience ♥︎

#cw dissociation #tw: dissociating #osdd system but make it rise leo #buwan's art #my art #projecting onto fictional characters #projecting onto rottmnt leo #disaster twins comfort

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