I can’t write this right now because of my long fic but I’ve been thinking of a Garsantos soulmate au. tw:self harm, suicide
In this world, soulmates can feel each other’s pain and it’s from Yolanda’s point of view. Anyway, since her and Trinity are ten ish years apart, Yolanda spends most of her childhood thinking that she doesn’t have a soulmate and she’s kind of bullied for it leading to have developing a messed up sense of self and love.
A few months after her tenth birthday, she feels the first spark of pain and she’s ecstatic. She gets a book and writes down every single feeling desperate to prove to herself that she does have a soulmate and she can’t wait to meet her. As the years go by, she’s almost always in pain, a few bruises on her knees, some joint wear and tear from overuse (since Trinity does gymnastics) and then one day, she feels sharp cuts along her thighs. She cries for her soulmate and wishes they had met and she was there to comfort her. The cutting continues unfortunately, leading to Yolanda deciding that she wants to do psychology at college to better help people like her soulmate. And then on the day of her final college exam, she’s overcome with immense pain like she’s being burnt from the inside out, followed by a feeling of emptiness. The emptiness lasts only a few minutes but she’d always remember the way it felt, like she was dead.
After her experience, she ends up not being able to do her finals, sinks into depression and basically struggles with what to do. She blames her soulmate for this, and hates that she’s so connected to a stranger, this is what leads to her playboy ways, but she still can’t get over the younger her that wanted to help people in pain. She decides to do medicine and work in trauma with the sickest patients so that no one would ever have to feel how it feels to die anymore.
and then we get to season one Garsantos and the scalpel incident. Trinity bends down after stabbing her, and Yolanda is all like ‘stop, it’s okay,” but Trinity’s bending to clutch her own foot.
Bruce Wayne centred Angst prompts (form my notes app lol)
TW: Mentions of self harm and suicide
Bruce decides to stay behind with someone on a dying planet so they’re not alone in their last days, problem is he doesn’t get off the planet fast enough
On a league mission he is chosen to finish the actual mission (like return an artefact or etc) turns out everything backfires and he dies, when the league gets there all they can hear is his replaying screams from the broken commuter connected to the cameras of that room and it won’t stop replaying his blood curdling screams as he died Slowly
Unbeknownst to Bruce he is dosed with some fear toxin, he’s had a bad week with his kids and so their words have been amplified in his mind and he is getting worse mentally, one morning he wakes up and it’s too much. Bruce visits his parents grave stones, his thoughts get louder and worse and he sobs at their grave, in an attempt to stop it all he begins to bash his head on the stones repeatedly. His kids find him there hours later because no one cared he was missing for so long they do now
The kids were all teleported to this abyss pocket dimension thing and have two choices presented to them, the question is Bruce or their dead parent, (for Damian it’s between Bruce or Talia) all the kids pick the dead parent and even Damian chooses Talia. A walk in front of them all comes down and Bruce is standing there tears streaming down his face (he knew they’d pick their parents but it does hurt) and a villain has a knife to his throat and says “ah you were correct they truly would not choose you”
Bruce has a book, it keeps track of all his mistakes. Every time he upset his children he writes down what he did wrong. Then he punishes himself for it. Exp: Talked at wrong tone- punishment, isolation. He does this to ‘improve’ but each time it gets worse and his health is deteriorating. Until he collapses and his children find out how much he’s been destroying himself to be ‘better’ for his children
The kids accidentally leave Bruce in a burning building, they watch back footage after finding out he’s dead and it’s just him screaming out their names
While sparring with the kids they hit him too hard and he falls down and it kills him
Bruce gets excluded from different events (like he goes but people kinda leave him out) and each time he gets sad an quiet like an excluded child. And when someone hangs out he gets so excited but they get weird and blames himself so he stops going out
He explodes
The kids play a prank that backfire because the prank in fact was not funny at all and was just cruel
Bruce is mind controlled and hurts his kids, he has never felt worse, he cannot see himself any less of a monster, so he decides to to completely disappear
Bruce gets drunk and asks Jason if he wishes him dead so much (after an argument) to shoot him in the face, least to say Jason is horrified
He gets into a fight with a significant other and the kids take their side instead of Bruce’s and then find out Bruce was right but Bruce no longer thinks that and is now completely shut down in his nest
last year when Needy Streamer Overdose came out I was in love with the pixel art style, and so I wanted to draw Byakuran-without-his-powers as a fucking loser
Since elemental powers r tied to the user’s emotions, some signs r pretty obvy.
During Kai’s many lowest points in grief, especially with heightened and intense emotions, his flames would turn blue, an obvy sign of intensity.
Kai has never used these flames directly in a fight or told his family abt it. The easy reason was how how hotter and thus lethal it was than normal fire.
Secretly, is the side effects: bc blue fire burns more intensely than normal ones, it affects his skin causing boils and burns. A clear drawback but sometimes, Kai conjures blue fire randomly as his way of self-harming.
Kai usually treats these burns as best he could and covers them with wraps and bandages. To this day, he’s never revealed or told anyone.
Neil survives Baltimore, he survives the finals against the ravens and he has all the reason and right to live.
So why doesn't it seem appealing anymore?
On the run, everything was survival, from squatting to stealing to killing. Now he didn't have to do that. But why isn't he happy?
He's all too aware of the imperfections generously decorating his skin, scars all shapes and sizes from various encounters, faults and accidents.
The jagged flesh pulled taut, the stares they brung, the questions and disgusted looks.
They give him purpose, they give him control.
All given to him by other people, other monsters.
So he gives himself his own, small things, nail biting, skin picking, light scratches on his wrist or calf.
Then he starts biting, chewing into flesh before covering them with his armbands. He started scratches, taking away skin flakes and leaving raised red lines behind.
No one notices, he's more relaxed, less tense than before, he feels good, his body is giving in to him.
He starts craving more, the bites go deeper, scratches rougher, blood is drawn and he is addicted.
He'd never felt this much relief before, he's satisfied with the sting and the beading blood.
He doesn't feel like he need to live anymore.
He doesn't need to survive anymore
He wants to give in.
He wants the pain to stop. The ache.
Neil Josten goes quietly, on a bloody bathroom floor, blood pooling from deep gashes.
He's smiling faintly.
And Andrew Minyard finds him an hour later after he never made it to the roof.
Tw: Swearing, Mentions of self harm (I’m warning you now if this subject triggers you in any kind of way plz do not read this chapter), mention of blood and knives/razors, smoking, getting high, making out
-𝙰𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢’𝚜 𝙿𝙾𝚅
“Could anyone tell me in what ways does language itself become a site of power rather than just a vehicle for meaning?” Chris asked the class,
I raised my hand, “Ms. Lane,” he called on me. “Language exerts power by legitimizing some voices and silencing others.” I confidently said,
He smirked satisfied by my answer. “Exactly,” he replied and moved on with his lecture.
It’s been three weeks since I started tutoring with him and boy has it been amazing. I understand the curriculum way better and can actually process everything properly.
Plus my relationship with Chris has blossomed into something unbearably incredible.
Yes I know he is suppose to just be my Professor and nothing more. But god it’s so hard to not catch feelings when he stares at me with his intense blue eyes, tells me to call him by his first name in private and takes me out every weekend to a new cafe, restaurant or shop.
He says it’s just a “reward” for my hard work. But I know deep down he’s doing it so he can get to know me better. Every time I take a break from learning he always asks me something about myself like…
“What’s your favorite movie?”
“Which one would you wanna be in more a Victoria Secret fashion show or cover of vogue?”
“What’s your guilty pleasure?”
It’s like he’s trying to get every piece of information from me so he can make a clone or something. Most people would be totally freaked out that their professor is asking such personal questions but I don’t mind at all.
Sometimes I even ask back to him. He usually says I shouldn’t ask my professors questions like that but on a special occasion he answers and those are the moments I truly fold for him.
Usually when these things happen I’d run to Mia about it. But after the first couple times I told her about it she started getting colder, maybe even jealous.
“Avery I really don’t care about your stupid professor boyfriend stuff. It’s honestly getting selfish of you to keep talking about it when you know you’re getting special treatment most students don’t get by their professor.”
So after the second or third ignorant, or mean comment she made on my situation I just shut up and went to the next person who would listen.
Matilda.
“So you’re telling me you hooked up with Professor Sturniolo before you knew he was your professor. Got him to tutor you and now you guys are in like a situationship…” she took another hit of the blunt in her hand as she laid flat on my couch staring straight at me.
I laughed, slightly from how high I was but also at her disbelief. “Yes but before you judge-” I was cut off “oh trust me girl I’m not gonna judge…honestly I wish I was as smart as you to do that.”
“Ugh thank the lord you’re on my side with this…you know I talked to my best friend about this and she just shut me down and said I was like selfish or something.”
Matilda shot me a disgusted facial expression, “She sounds like a bitch,”
“She kinda is but I get it, if the whole class found out about my tutoring and hooking up and what not they would probably call me selfish too. So she’s probably just warning me.” I slurred my words together, getting higher and higher every second.
“Nope she’s definitely just a bitch,” we hysterically laughed together, taking more hits of the blunt and spilling more secrets than you could imagine.
The next thing I knew it was early in the morning and I had to be at class in 20 minutes.
I instantly got up and did the same morning routine I did everyday, just now I felt more sluggish and had a slight headache with it.
I showed up to class early surprisingly, took my seat and immediately took out all the books I would need for the class.
As time passed and class went by I would easily answer any question that Chris hit me with.
I heard people whisper,
“Avery kissing Professors ass as always,”
“Why is she such a suck up?”
Usually I didn’t let any of the comments bother me. Until I heard a particularly familiar voice whisper, “She’s such a teachers pet,”
I didn’t bother turning around to look at who said it. They weren’t worth my time in the slightest. At least that’s what I tried to tell myself every time I heard someone whisper.
But truthfully I would let the insults get to me slowly but surely cracking me open like an egg. Every little word piercing my heart like a dagger.
When I was younger I had a habit of scratching myself with pencils, rings, even my own nails when my mind went dark.
Either from my parents agitating comments, classmates mean words or my own mind itself.
No matter what the situation was I would always resort to scratching myself.
Over and over again til I would need a bandaid to cover up my wound.
Gradually my habit faded, I started to resort to other healthier ways to contain my feelings.
But recently I’ve fallen back into my horrible habit. Just this time instead of pencils and jewelry it’s razors, pocket knives or really anything sharp enough to make a clean cut.
I know it’s bad , I know I shouldn’t do it. But every time I run the blade across my skin it feels like relief. Like one little cut is taking away all my problems without even trying.
For now this is my only solution or at least the only one that makes me feel better right away.
-𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜’𝚜 𝙿𝙾𝚅
It’s Sunday morning, I’m in my classroom per usual tutoring Avery as always or at least that’s what I would tell my brother, “it’s just tutoring nothing more”
Yet here I was asking her silly questions to get her off the topic of school and on the topic of her personal life.
At the moment I could tell Avery was thinking deeply about something. She was zoning out and barely responding to any of my school related questions nor my personal questions. “So Babydoll…what’s going on in that little brain of yours?” I asked.
She jumped in her seat in front of me, snapping out of her trance. “Uh sorry-I just zoned out for a bit,” she immediately went back to work.
“No don’t apologize…I was just curious on what you were thinking about.” I jokingly said, fidgeting with the pen in my hand and putting my feet up on my desk.
She paused, letting the quiet sound of her tapping her pencil fill the room. “l-l was just thinking about something that happened in class the other day…” she spoke in a soft tone.
I careful took my feet off my desk and straightened my posture. Slowly nodding to let her know she had my full attention. “What happened?”
I must’ve spooked her or something, because the second those words left my mouth she went back to doing her work and simply said nothing serious happened.
I quickly grabbed onto her wrist that was writing, “tell me what happened, obviously it’s not nothing if you were zoning out because of it.”
She looked deep into my eyes, and stuttered “the other day in class…after I answer a question, I heard a some people whispering mean things.”
“Like what-what were they whispering,”
“Like, ‘suck-up’ or ‘teachers pet’…” she whispered, fidgeting with the rings on her fingers.
A burst of fiery frustration ran through my veins, my heart pounding through my chest. I’ve never felt more angry in my life about something so childish, “who? Who said those things,”
“W-what?”
“Who said it?”
“Why?”
“Because I’m going to get them expelled…no student of mine is going to be bullied for answering questions in class…” I suddenly jumped out of my chair in attempts to walk off my fury.
But as I did so I felt a soft, warm hand grab mine. “No your only gonna make it worse,” she was stern, finally bringing out her fiery, confident side for once.
I studied her face, she furrowed her eyebrows, and pouted her lip seemingly frustrated with my reaction. But underneath all that anger I could slightly see a tear forming in her eye and her lip quivering.
I walked around my desk and embraced her into a hug. She hesitated for a moment but wrapped her arms around me tight a second later.
I pulled away from the hug just enough to look at her face. I cupped her face with my hands, wiping away the tiny tears on her cheeks with my thumbs. “You’re beautiful…you know that right?”
She giggled a little, “you’ve told me before,”
“Yeah I know….but that was when I barely knew you….I only saw your body not who you really were.” I admitted, pausing for a second to gather my words.
“Now knowing you and seeing you for who you really are, I’ve realized something…”
“Really and what’s that?” She questioned, still holding onto me.
“You’re my dream girl…my babydoll.”
She froze, caught off guard by my sudden confession. “You’re the only girl who’s ever made me feel so…warm inside. The way you speak your mind without caring what others think. The way you walk into a room effortlessly like you own the place. Avery-every time I look at you I just wanna pull you into my grasp and kiss you.” The words spilled out of me.
She stared at me for a second, I could tell she was replaying the words I just said in her head. Then she smirked, “Then do it,” she dared me,
I was shocked, unsure if I heard her completely right. “W-what?”
“I said do it…kiss me for god sake-” I interrupted her, crashing my lips onto hers.
It was slow, meaningful, heartfelt, her lips were warm and plush. My hands naturally moved down to the small in her back moving her closer.
She opened her mouth slightly giving me access to explore it with my tongue. My heart was racing, a burst of adrenaline running through me. This kiss felt forbidden yet so good.
She moved her hands to my hair, running her knuckles through my curls.
I was about to lift her up and move her to my desk til…
Bang.
It sounded like someone knocked over a book in the back of my room. Yet when I snapped my head to see who could be there it was totally empty.
“Did you hear that?” I asked,
“Yeah…must’ve been the vents or something…” she replied, still skeptical of the words that left her mouth.
I stepped back from her, our hands being the only thing still touching.
I cautiously pulled her hand up to my chest, as I did so her sleeves started to roll up a bit revealing dark lines on her skin. “What’s tha-” she quickly yanked her arm away, rolling her sleeve back down.
“Don’t worry about it!” She barked, “alright sorry for asking,”
The encounter left me confused or maybe even weary. It felt like I was missing a huge piece of a puzzle I didn’t even know I was making.
One minute we’re kissing the next she’s freaking out over me seeing her arms. I didn’t push her to tell me what was on her arms. But my mind still wondered what it could be.
Eventually I let that thought slip from my mind and now all I could think about was the kiss.
A kiss that has never felt so loving and delicate before.
A kiss that leaves me wanting more, more than I should be wanting.
