Tw Selfharm - Tumblr Posts

Tav who, due to her tragic history, hates herself and hurts herself.

Lord Astarion, who goes nuts over it. His precious treasure... Turns out in the camp she was hiding it or there was so much incident and fatigue around - it wasn't necessary, there was enough pain. Which explained a few things to him, though. That's what it was...

Astarion worries: she's being tormented by something inside that he can't understand, control or somehow end.

Tav doesn't know how to deal with it, either. She worries that he worries. Tav can do what she wants in Faerun if she feels the need to. His spell will still heal her. They dance at the ball, Tav laughs, it's all right. They share all the pleasures in each other's arms. It's a strange unpleasantness might happen once a month.  

Still why did he do not like it so much? It had to be ended somehow.

Gifts, entertainment and his best caresses weren't working. Astarion was hurt that he couldn't solve the problem himself for the only person he cared about.

One day he came up with a compromise that if, he would do it himself with her. He knows body pain, how to inflict it and how to handle it. Or he'll be around.

Tav insisted it was sometimes and she needed some space at times like this. Astarion agreed. And she came to him very often.

So these two vampire have reached an incredible level of trust.

Idea one

Trigger warning for self-harm and suicide below 

Quirk less au. Established poly relationship between Kirishima , Kaminari and Bakugou. Denki struggles with depression and suicidal thoughts , Bakugou was to busy with work to notice, but Kirishima did and he tries to comfort Denki. Though something happens to Kirishima that make him go from depressed to suicidal l, him and Denki plans a double suicide , and Bakugou doesn't realize untill its to late.

Two possible ending: both die Bakugou sad or Kirishima survives and feels guilty for failing Denki because he survived but also because he let it get this far/ let Denki die

This one is more morbid but its still something I'm interested in writing. This would be a one-shot

ugggggggg i love this its so f-ing cute

Undone

An abridged history of Sam, an abridged history of Darlin, and the present of two people who have each other despite it all.

CW: self harm (vampire lets the sun touch him), quinn and alexis as their own warnings, more comprehensive warnings on ao3

Mature, 2.4k words

also on ao3!

I.

Sam doesn’t know exactly what he was thinking when he first started sleeping with Alexis. It had been a while since his last relationship— he was… lonely. That wasn’t a feeling he was used to having; a long history of revolving-door relationships had made sure of that. And Alexis had told him that she wasn’t looking for anything serious either, she wasn’t looking for anything more than sex. 

And he believed her. Like a fool.

It was the kind of mistake that you couldn’t take back once it was made. Most mistakes were like that, but then again most mistakes didn’t damn you quite like this one.

It’s not like he didn’t try.

“This is the last time,” was something he said often.

“Famous last words,” was Alexis’s snarky reply. He always pointed out how that didn’t make sense and she always shut him up with a kiss.

Alexis’s kisses were like the best kind of toxin. They made his knees and resolve weak. And she knew it too. As long as he was within kissing distance, she may as well have had him in the palm of her hand. She didn’t often let him out of kissing distance.

Which is why Sam chose to sit across the booth from her the night he decided to try to break things off for good (again).

He chose his favorite diner in town. It was one he went to often in his days at D.A.M.N.. Maybe it was naive, but he was hoping the familiarity of the diner would give him the strength to officially break things off, that maybe having the home advantage would make it stick this time.

“I know why you brought me here, Samson.” She talked with the straw to her milkshake hanging to the side of her mouth. That habit of her’s always pissed Sam off. “Samson” pissed him off even more. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “I don’t know why you keep trying this.” She leans towards him, “We were meant to be, don’t you get it?”

“If you knew why I brought you here, why did you come?”

She smirks at him and shrugs. “Wanted to see what happened, I guess. I wonder how you’ll do it this time.” 

“You know that I care about you, Alexis.” She stared at him unflinchingly, steely eyes boring holes into him. “Just… not in the way you want me to.”

“Bullshit.”

Sam takes a deep breath. “I think space would be good for us.”

“Denial is one hell of a drug, isn’t it?”

“I’ve talked to William.” Alexis goes still.

“Bullshit.” She’s not as confident this time, her voice is quieter. She was right about this one, though. Sam prayed to everything above that she wouldn’t further call his bluff.

“I’m serious, Alexis. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Well you didn’t have to go to my fucking maker about it, Sam,” she spit out.

“What else was I supposed to do?” He genuinely wanted to know.

She slides out of the booth and stands at the end of the table, making him look up at her. “I’ll be in the car.”

Sam doesn’t say anything but listens to the sound of her stomping boots as she storms out of the diner. She slams the door behind her and he’s half surprised he doesn’t hear the door break.

Their waiter approaches carrying two plates. A burger for Sam and a side of hashbrowns for Alexis.

“Did your date go to the bathroom?” No harm intended, but Sam still has to actively hold back a wince.

“Uh, no. Can I get the check, please?” The waiter gave him a sorry look before nodding and stepping away again.

He puts his head in his hands once the waiter is out of sight.

Once Sam slides into the driver’s seat of his truck Alexis says, “Space won’t make me love you any less.”

“For the last time, you do not love me. You hardly know me.”

“We spend so much time together, how could I not know you?”

“My name is Samuel, not Samson.”

She doesn’t have anything to say after that.

~

Out of all the changes and losses that vampirism brought to Sam’s life, he didn’t think he would miss the sun as much as he did. Some days he would just sit at his window and watch the shadows change against the trees outside. Some days he would draw his blackout curtains all day, wanting to forget the sun existed entirely. 

He missed how it warmed his skin when he stepped out of cold buildings, how it shined on the smiling faces of his friends, how it turned everything golden at the end of the day. 

There was one afternoon— it was close enough to the end of his bloodlust that the only reason he was still living at Wonderworld was because he hadn’t yet decided if he was staying with the clan or moving away— that Sam found himself outside, standing completely in the shade, but with a ray of sun peeking through the tree’s leaves just in front of him. Swiping his hand once, twice through the sunbeam barely felt like anything. Holding out his hand, he let it sit on his palm for a moment. He held his hand there until he felt sharp and scorching, white-hot pain and when he moved his hand into the shade, the burning didn’t stop. Clutching his hand to his chest, he bit his lip hard to keep from screaming. He holds out his hand to see the skin already starting to blister in a lopsided circle in the center of his palm. He doesn’t even have enough of a handle on his old healing abilities to fix his mistake.

The scar never fades.

He still misses the sun on his good days.

Sometimes he wondered what he did to deserve this eternal damnation.

II.

Darlin had never felt particularly welcome in the pack. They joined as a teen, when everyone else their age had already grown up together and formed bonds they could never hope to compete with. It didn’t help that they especially relied on their friendships outside of the pack and never tried to see the pack members their own age as people they’d ever be close to. 

It was a point of contention with David, especially after he became alpha. It got to a point where he confronted them about it after a pack meeting so boring that they fell asleep.

“Bore you to sleep did I?” Darlin couldn’t tell if he thought it was funny or if it upset him.

“Better than boring me to tears,” they joked.

David’s face stayed stoic. Shit.

“I didn’t mean to, I just didn’t sleep well last night.” A white lie never hurt anyone.

“Why don’t you come out to dinner with the rest of the pack after this?”

“As punishment for falling asleep?” they asked genuinely.

David scoffed. “No, because we are your pack and usually people like to spend time with their pack members.”

Darlin raised their eyebrows. “I’m good, but thanks for the invite.” 

They turned to walk away before David said their name, stopping them in their tracks.

“Come to dinner.” It wasn’t a question.

“Is that an order?”

David looked them over and considered his options. They looked tense. Their hands were curled into tight fists and their nose was twitching. It always did that when they were ready to fight. 

“I want you to know we care about you. We want you here in the pack.”

They roll their eyes. “Just saying that doesn’t make it true, David. I notice how the older pack members look at me when I walk in the room. I notice how I sit alone every at every meeting, even if I’m the first fucking person there. I notice how no one gives a shit about me. You don’t care, not really, so don’t lie to me to try to get me to hang out with these fucking people.”

David is at a loss. They’d never said that much to him about the pack before. He knew they were unhappy, he didn’t know the scope of it all until now. “That’s not true,” is all he can manage to say.

“Fuck off.”

“Come to dinner.”

“Is that an order?” If looks could kill, David would have been dead approximately one minute ago.

“No,” he concedes. Part of being an alpha was knowing when to pick your battles. His stomach sinks as he watches the door close behind them.

It was the last pack meeting Darlin showed up to for a long time.

That was when Quinn stepped into their life. They met through mutual friends and in the beginning he drew them in with smiles and kind words and even kinder gestures. At first, things with Quinn were easier than Darlin ever thought anything could be. He came into their life at the right time. Or the wrong time depending on who you asked. Eventually they started hanging out alone, ditching the mutual friends. Darlin kind of stopped hanging out with everyone after they met Quinn. Not on purpose, but something about him consumed Darlin entirely. He was all they could think about. But the happy stage didn’t last long and by the time it got scary, it was hard to get away. 

There was a point where they thought they might not even get out. That the pack would forget about them, that they’d live forever under Quinn’s thumb.

The only person brave enough to help them escape, scars and all, was one empowered friend of theirs. They had visited out of the blue one day when Quinn happened to not be around and when they had asked about Darlin’s various bandages, they were too exhausted to lie. 

Quinn didn’t let their friend live to regret helping them.

And when Darlin originally lied to David about the department capturing Quinn, they didn’t think it would take over a year for them to find him again. They didn’t think he’d be able to evade them as well as he had. Perhaps they should have learned their lesson the first time they underestimated him.

When David comes to give them hell about lying to him, their skin crawls when they realize what an oversight they had made when they chose to pursue Quinn on their own after the attack. The rest of the pack and their mates weren’t something Darlin had even thought could be impacted. Partially because they thought they could get a handle on it long before it ever got to the point it did, and partially because they were used to handling things on their own. And usually that had been just fine for them. But Quinn wasn’t quite like anything they’d dealt with before.

Sometimes it felt like all they did was lie.

“Yes, I’m okay.”

“No, I don’t care.”

“The department took care of Quinn.”

They kept everyone at an arm’s length. No one was allowed to get close enough to see them and if they tried, they were met with teeth and claws and anger. And that seemed to work for them– until they tried to fix their mistake with Quinn by themselves.

III.

“I bet you’d look beautiful in the sun, Darlin,” he says softly. “I’d give everythin’ to see how your eyes look during sunset.”

They tilt their head and look down at his hands holding their own. “Awfully sappy tonight, are we?”

His mouth twists into a crooked smile. “Only for you.” 

They want to push him away. They want to joke and laugh and bring things back to a level that didn’t feel so vulnerable. That’s how he made them feel: vulnerable. But they didn’t laugh, they didn’t joke, they didn’t put both hands on his chest and push.

Instead they reach up, holding both sides of his face, and pull him close. When his lips meet theirs, they feel like they're falling head-first into a black hole. They kiss him harder.

When they first met Sam, they think some part of themselves knew who Sam was going to become to them before they ever got to experience it. Maybe that was why they let him find them that night, maybe he was right after all about them being able to sense him when they entered Waterworld in the first place. Or maybe they were just too busy trying to find Quinn to pay attention. 

They’d never been a particularly open person, even before Quinn, but something about Sam was different. They don’t know what it is about Sam that seems inherently trustful. Darlin isn’t one to trust easily, and especially not with vampires, not anymore.

Allowing anyone, including Sam, to get close to them, choosing to trust felt like playing with fire. He never once made them regret it. If they ever got burned (and never by him), Sam was cool water and a bandage to heal the wound. He made them want to let him get closer to them, to let him in and show him all of their scars, physical and otherwise.

“I like moonlight better anyway, it's more romantic,” they say.

His eyes soften and wrinkle at the corners. There's a smile on his lips but a deep sense of loss in his eyes and an apology on the tip of his tongue. A “sorry” for being a vampire, for never being able to see how they look in the sun. For letting them love him. There’s nothing he could ever say to atone for the sin he believes he’s committed.

He never wanted this life. He could have— should have died happily as a retired healer. Maybe with a partner, maybe just surrounded by friends and loved ones. The prospect of eternity felt more like suffocation than freedom.

“I love you, Sam.”

Tears blur the person— the beautiful, shining, person, who may as well have shaped the sun with their own hands, that stands in front of him. He looks up and takes a shaky breath to keep from crying.

He supposes he might not have ever met Darlin if he was never turned, might not have ever come to love them in this way. 

“I love you,” they whisper.

Maybe this little bit of eternity that he’d get to have with them would make it all worth it.

Maybe they were enough sunshine to last him several lifetimes.

A Deal

257  words

Fandom: Redacted Asmr

Couple: None, mentions of Darlin/Quinn and Darlin/Sam

TW/CW: Panic attacks, descriptions of panic like attacks, extream loneliness, very brief moments of self harm( clawing at ones skin)

A/N: this is self-indulgent, it's based on how my separation anxiety feels.

Let me know if I missed a trigger.

Please comment and reblog, it lets me know people like my stuff and encourages me to write more!!!!!!

Click here if you want to see more of my work and follow me for more!

Loneliness was always a part of their life 

It was like they sign a contract, loneliness for strength and reputation

They forgot to read the fine print

They didn't realize the loneliness would always be there

Even when they out with a group

Or when with Quinn

One minute they'd pray he'd leave 

The next, they are clawing at their chest to get the pain of being left alone out of their heart.

When Sam entered their life they thought it would be easier. 

But those nights when they wake, alone. Their heart squeezes like it's pushing all of the blood out, trying to cut itself off from what keeps it working

Just like Darlin’

They know he's at work, they know that

But their chest doesn't get the message as they heave. Words they'd never say to another escaping their lungs. 

Their so desperate to be held by someone

By him

There never thought of themselves as desperate

No one has

That's was the problem

No one thought about the effects they had on Darlin’

Because their strong

Built like a tank

A lone wolf

But they don't want that

They never did

No matter what teenage  Darlin’ did or said

It was an act

A rebellion

A test for the pack

Many failed

But more tired again

And again

And again

Eventually, they let the pack in

But the loneliness they feel in the dark of their room

In the dark of their heart. Is something no one can change

That no one can heal

HungerGamesStuck p.1

!!tw: selfharm!! AGES Albert is 15, Wally 16, Kaia Gerda and Jack 17, Vernon 18.

The plan has been developed, the decision has been made. The gun on Vernon, who came to the Games with Kaia, thundered yesterday. There were five left in the Arena - they and Jack Noir. They will go out in the morning and meet him in the forest square to the west of their square, and then everything will be decided.

- Eat up, - Gerda pushed a plate of impromptu soup to the boys, - Tomorrow afternoon, this will not be useful to anyone.

Wally looked up at her in question, and the girl shook her head, well fed.

Dinner was completed in silence, but as the party got ready to go to bed, Kaia stood up.

- After Jack's death, we may have to fight each other, - she glanced around her friends, addressing each individually and to everyone at the same time, - Let this be a fair fight.

- Fair fight, - agreed Albert.

- Fair fight, - nodded Gerda.

- Fair, - Wally whispered.

They nestled in a nest of sleeping bags and backpacks, erasing the map of the Arena Wally had drawn a couple of hours before. A chess field, where instead of black and white cells there is forest and desert. The desert is dangerous - it is difficult to get food and it is easy to suffocate in the sands, but the forest, full of poisonous insects and predators, albeit small ones, animals and tributes, is no less dangerous. Now there are no tributes left.

Wally would very much like his hands not to tremble, but Gerda, falling asleep, hugs him from behind and squeezes his palm with hers - with the other hand, squeezing the hilt of the sword. Bert and Kaia settle down next to each other, and no one can tell which of the four fell asleep last.

Wally is awakened by Kaia 's scream. Gerda and Albert are on their feet, Gerda is swinging, and Albert is hastily looking for his quiver of arrows. A little further away lies Kaia, over which a dark figure towers. Wally jumps up and grabs a spear, knowing for sure that he will not have a fair fight.

It doesn't cost Jack anything to fight off the three of them, but still they push him out into the desert. All eyes are on Noir, weapons out. Albert manages to stab Jack in the shoulder before he spins around and decapitates him. Blood is pouring onto the sand, and Wally is suddenly unaware of what is happening. His ears are ringing, his feet are chained to the ground, and for a second he is three days in the past. It's easy for Jack to kill, then and now. Instead of the bodies of seven guys, Wally should have been lying on that piece of land . Instead of Bert, Wally should be lying now. Jack deprives him of everyone he gets close to, but this will not last forever - soon Jack will take his life and himself.

Gerda flies into him, and they both fall to the ground. Wally grabs a spear and the sword strikes him. Noir pushes harder, swinging his sword around, but Wally somehow keeps the point from touching his face. His hands are shaking and he's about to lower his spear, but Gerda attacking Noir and Wally jumps to his feet. It doesn't last long. Before he can react, Noir's sword flies into his stomach. Wally opens his mouth helplessly, unable to even scream in pain, and falls to the ground. It hurts even to breathe, but he can still see.

Gerda reaches for him, but stops, knowing that she must not be distracted from Noir. They stand opposite each other, breathing heavily, and each of them at this moment focuses all of himself in the battle. Wally can see their swords meet, dodge and charge at each other. He never thought that an ordinary resident of the district could wield a sword so well. They don't need shields and they don't need armor, they have torn clothes from the beginning of the Game and an artificial desert under their feet. And the desire to win. But Gerda wants not only to win - Gerda wants revenge.

The blood from Jack's left arm continues to flow, and it becomes more difficult for him to dodge blows. Gerda breathes with a whistle, but still stands firmly on her feet. Darkness rolls over Wally in waves, and they turn into a pair of whirlwinds for him.

Gerda puts her hand on the wound under the collarbone, Jack's face is covered with blood. And yet they keep on and on fighting like it's going to last forever. But with another maneuver, Noir's sword is between her ribs, and she reaches forward, stabbing him in the throat. They fall on the sand at the same time. No one counts, but the cannon rumbles in four seconds.

With the last of her strength, Gerda crawls up to Wally.

- I'm here, - she whispers, laying down beside him - It's all right, I'm there.

Wally opens his eyes. He would have felt for her with his hand if even the slightest movement had not brought him terrible pain. He is even a little sorry that the last time Gerda sees him like this - helpless, weak, with a path of blood from his lips to his chin. But still, she sees him. Wally isn't even sure that Jack actually died, but he heard the cannon, which means the stewards thought it happened. So Gerda will return home, and he will finally stand in the place where he should have been. No more mistakes, no more killings, no more hunger and no more thirst.

Lord, how I want to drink.

- How are you? - he asks with his lips. Gerda does not answer, only gropes his shoulder with her fingers and squeezes lightly. Wally so desperately doesn't want to think that she can last no longer than him.

- I have a book at home, - Gerda suddenly whispers. - About a girl traveling in space. I want to open it now.

- A letter from the space.

- Yes, - Gerda agrees, - Letter.

It seems to him that he is about to fall asleep, but he wants to spend a little more time with a friend.

- When you're in Ninth, tell my family that I love them, - he chokes out. Saying such a long sentence is now as hard as running a kilometer in the desert.

- And you are mine.

- I'll tell them.

He promises, and yet he finds her hand with his fingers. With another flash of pain, the light before his eyes fades completely.

Wally wakes up in a room with greyish walls and a transparent door.

Dear viewers, please welcome the victor of the thirty-seventh Hunger Games, Walter Valiant of District Nine!

He didn't even have scars. Sometimes Wally wants to scratch his stomach to leave a reminder of what he went through. He walks down the corridors where twenty-three other teenagers walked until recently, and reporters fly at him with cameras and a bunch of prepared questions. Wally doesn't tell them anything. Even when he arrives home and finds himself in the arms of his parents and two cousins, he is silent and does not look into their eyes. They move to the Victory Village, but Wally still feels like he's still in the Arena. One day, he scrawls “ I’m still there ” on the wall, and the mentor who comes to visit him says that this is normal.

And then the Victory tour begins.

All this seems for Wally a little absurd. He is the last tribute who deserved to win. He led a squad into battle, and Jack Noir killed them all. Except him, and he'll probably never know why. Jack Noir killed Kaia, Albert and Gerda. Wally thinks that one day Jack Noir will kill him too.

The tour starts from the District One. In all this time, Wally never said a word, and his speech is recorded in advance, leaving him to simply open his mouth into the microphone. He enters the stage, and immediately meets the eyes of the people sitting in the front row. “ Your style… retained some expressions… no one can tell the difference…” He looks at families who have lost their children and pretends to speak.

On the right are the girl's parents. Wally hardly crossed paths with her, but her squadmates said that she was incredibly agile. And quite smart, which is unusual for the One. Left: Noir. A man and a woman, judging by the expression on their faces, ready to faint. Either out of grief or out of anger. Next to him is a thin, serious young man, over whose shoulder every now and then a boy climbs, obviously not grown up to twelve years old. Wally thinks they saw everything Jack did on TV. But he doesn't care what they think about it. He wants to just end his fake performance and walk away before he forgets how to breathe at the look in Jack`s fathers equally gray eyes. All these people counted on the victory of their children. Wally understands them - he also counted on it.

He repeats "his" speech almost word for word several times. Worthy rivals… condolences to the family… He moves his jaw, perfectly falling into the memorized lines, and then, in the train compartment, scratches his forearms until they bleed, because this is all his mistake. And in a dream, Jack Noir invariably comes to him.

They arrive at the Eighth. Wally is wearing a long-sleeved tunic, and he is grateful for the chilly weather for keeping suspicion away from him. He looks at one of the families in the front row and realizes that they are hopeful. They know that he was a friend of Gerda and hope he has something important to say. Wally looks at them, swallowing hard, and takes a step back. He catches his breath and freezes for a second. Lines written in advance fly past the ears, Wally forgets to pretend it's him. He promised Gerda that he would pass on her words to her family. He promised he would, and now he can't make a sound out of himself, and he has absolutely nothing to help them, because he can no longer speak on his own.

Wally starts shaking and he moves further back into the stage as the audience begins to commotion: everyone has already realized that he was not the one who spoke. All those beautiful words were written beforehand, no one really cared to offer condolences to the families of the dead tributes . It's all just staging. Wally hears the command "Turn off the air" and runs away.

He climbs into the first box he comes across and sits there, imagining that he is in an impregnable fortress, while confusion is going on around him. When the voices stop ringing in your ears, Wally gets out and looks around. He did not have time to run far - there is a table nearby, on it is paper with, it seems, some kind of program. He grabs the sheet and frantically searches for something to write. Almost determined to write the note in his own blood, he finally finds a pencil. "GERDA SAID SHE LOVES YOU," he concludes. And rushes out into the street, to where the spectators were sitting, hoping that Peregrine Seniors had not left yet. Wally nearly bumps into them in the crowd leaving the square, shoves the note into Gerda's father's hand and runs back.

The escort catches him and puts him in the car. Wally is being scolded for ruining the whole tour and running off to who knows where without warning anyone, but he doesn't care - he finally did something right.

Communication is key

!!!!!TW: Dark, dark thoughts! Violence! I reaaally have no idea what's up with me, so I can't really specify!!!!!

A/N: Here we go again... Read more will be added when I have an access to a pc. Please excuse any grammar errors.

Pairing: Comte de Saint Germain x reader

* * * * *

Things were getting bad again. You woke up one day and the world seemed just a bit darker, a bit more glum, a bit more colourless. It was like the volcano that is your happiness finally erupted and coated the world in a thick layer of ash. And all the repressed thoughts, doubts and worries spilled out, slow but steady, and ready to burn, just like hot lava.

It went on like that for a while, the thoughts getting closer and closer and one day, they just consumed you completely. You didn't want to do anything, didn't have the motivation to do anything, but there was this fear inside you, fear of upsetting your loved ones, that you still got up and did your work.

But you had to let go of something, so your mind wouldn't shut down completely.

Who would've thought skipping meals was so easy?

Oh how your hurt, twisted mind enjoyed the way your stomach, that has been empty for days now, squeezed and turned in an attempt to let you know its needs, filling your head, that was already aching from the malnutrition, with deep grumbles.

You seriously didn't think this could go on forever, did you?

It must've been one of the residents who told him. Maybe it was Sebastian, he spent most of the time with you afterall. Maybe it was Arthur when he caught you in the library, leaning your head on the shelves, because you were lightheaded or maybe Dazai, who caught you outside smashing your head against a tree he was occupying, your facial muscles clenched and teeth tightly clamped together, frustration written all over your face.

But that didn't matter now.

What did matter was him, in all his perfect beauty and grace. He sat behind his desk, fingers weaved together in front of his chin. The only thing he was lacking, was that trade mark smile of his, now replaced by what an onlooker would call a blank face, but those who knew him could recognize a scowl forming on his face.

It started simple. "How are you ma chèrie?" By now you had realized that lying would be futile, so you answered truthfully "I'm not doing so well right now. But no need to worry my love, I'll be alright soon enough." you smiled at him. Never in your lufe have you realized how straining it is sometimes to smile.

Comte sighed "You tell me not to worry and then I hear you've been neglecting and hurting yourself. I think that gives me a good reason to worry." He didn't lie, you had to admit and so you only looked off to the side and nodded your head.

"Why didn't you come to me? I could've at least tried to help you." His eyes were staring right into your soul, searching for truth. But the truth was, that you had no idea. Maybe it was due to your trauma, but consulting your problems with your lover never even came up as an option in your head. The first thing your brain commanded to your body was selfdestruct. And so you only shrugged.

"May I know what's plaguing your mind my dear?" he asked oh so softly and caringly. Your response was almost automatic "Oh it's nothing serious, I'm just a bit under the weather is all. I'll be better in no time!"

Comte sighed. But not sadly anymore. His sigh was filled to the brim with dissapointment. "And yet you still lie to me. What am I supposed to do with you?" a small, loving smile accompanied the count's second sentence.

What am I supposed to do with you?

AnyThIng yOu WAnt! Your mind screeched, its voice echoing off the walls of your soul. I aM eMPtY anYwAY! My LIfE's NoTHiNg bUT a FlEetiNG aFfaiR in YouRS, so iT dOEsn'T reAlLy mAttER, DoEs iT?

Despite the burning lava turning your brain into a piece of coal, you felt empty. So so empty. No feeling, no meaning. Unimportant.

You needed to feel. You needed to feel. You NEEDED to FEEL! Youneededtofeelyouneededtofeelyouneededto-

"Hit me."

It was but a mere whisper, but he was sure he hasn't heard anything more loudly than this. In a split second, he left his desk and stood facing you. Your eyes, sunken and empty looked at his clearly worried face.

"I'm acting like a brat. So hit me."

His arm, quick as lightning, shot out towards you. But instead of stinging pain, you felt warmth where he pressed your bodies together. You felt the smooth material of his coat against your face and his arms tightly wound around your back and waist.

And as his warmth seeped into your skin, your being was overcome with one, simple feeling.

this isn't right

no, a slight whimper escaped you. He only held you tighter.

Even as the whimpers rose to screams, screams of pure anguish, desperation and frustration, and you started to thrash in his embrace, he didn't let go.

"No! No!! You don't understand, I-I need the pain! I need to feel it! Please!! You can’t be so calm! Shout at me, hit me, anything but this silence, please!!!"

Your stammering screams shattered his heart into pieces and he couldn't help but drop his mask of perfection and cry, while trying to shush and soothe you.

Despite the tears rolling down his cheeks, his voice didn't break once and his hold didn't falter, until you went lax in his arms. Comte looked down at you, a small part of him hoping to see you content and better, but what he saw only broke his heart further.

You were resting your cheek on his chest, your empty, dead gaze set somewhere far, your lips chapped and dry. You looked exactly how you felt.

Broken.

Your lips started moving, at first only slightly, nearly nonexistent trembles. After a few seconds you whispered "Why am I like this?"

Another drawing I guess..

[open up your veins]

So I sort of attempted to off myself three times in one week..

God I suck at it

But I still keep thinking I just need more practice to keep going further with it..

...one has to work eventually..

One hour until the new year and I'm already sitting in the bathroom with razor blades and one wound on my hand, wanting to cry. Wtf, I hate this shit

I went back to self-harming and on the one hand I feel satisfied, and on the other I know that if my family found out, they would be broken and disappointed

Looking at my mutilated forearm, I feel satisfaction that I punished my ugly body, stupid brain, stupid thoughts, myself in general, this is what I deserve

That blade I'm holding is my only friend

Who knew tendon damage could be so annoying? My fingers are hard to bend and I'm having a NIGHTMARE of a time clenching my fist

Booo

DUDE, I'M A MONTH CLEAN TODAY🎉

I really didn't think I could do that🫶🏻

I told my friends but they don't give a shit they were just like 'okay, so?' like okay sorry that I'm excited that I'm a month clean😔🥲

✿❀✿

This chapter tackles subjects that can be sensitive to some readers, please do not interact if you are uncomfortable. And it's about my personnal life, though I feel comfortable sharing those facts. Of course, don't read if you're not interested :)

⚠️ Warnings : depiction of mental health (depressive thoughts, suicidal thoughts, self harm, self hate,…).

Read at your own risk. - Beaucoup d’amour, Poppy.

✿❀✿

❀ Pansy n°4 = A little catch-up.

*sigh* So ! There’s a lot to say…

I didn’t plan to make this book, or whatever this is, so personal but I feel like this could do me some good and that it could actually be interesting to share a bit more of my struggles.

I mean, I think this book makes it pretty clear - especially with what I write and think of writing in it - but I suffer from chronic anxiety, ‘masked’ depression and a bit of ADHD. First and foremost, ‘masked’ depression is a bad translation from my native language but basically it means that I try - or at least tried - to hide it from others, to keep up appearances. Which is… Way too true. But anyways.

To start from the beginning, it has been more than a year since I got “diagnosed” with chronic anxiety by my first therapist. He told me it was most likely hereditary - which is true, I got f*cking anxious parents especially my dad. I started therapy in January 2022, after years of mental distress. I always remember being anxious, sleeping badly and feeling lonely as well as inexistant, useless, transparent. It is like, most of what I remember from my teenage years (and I have massive blackouts from my childhood somehow :/). I am constantly struggling with my feelings, thoughts and place in life. It is as if my entire life revolves around internal conflict. I was - and still am a bit - used to dealing with all of it on my own, because I am convinced that you can count on nobody but yourself, but mostly that I shouldn’t burden people with it especially when they won’t care anyway.

Adding to that, the fact that I am the youngest of three siblings, I grew up thinking that I was too much in my family. Like my parents had already too much to deal with and just hadn’t the capacity to fully care for me. Moreover, on my dad’s side of the family I was also the younger cousin. So when my cousins and siblings became teenagers and young adults, I was very clearly put aside. The worst was that everyone was aware of it. I mean they literally gently threw me out of each room they were in when they wanted to talk about more “adult themed” subjects, always promising to call me back when they were done which obviously never happened. At the time, I complained to my parents and relatives about it, saying that I was tired of being rejected and just wanted to spend time with my cousins. But everyone just told me to wait it out, that it was normal as I was younger but with time it’ll change and it ended with people not even caring anymore if I was saddened about the situation. From this experience I think I just came to the conclusion that older people would always look at me as a less valuable being just because I was younger than them and theoretically couldn’t understand their “grown up and experienced” mind. As well as the fact that nobody - not even my family - cares about my feelings even if I communicate them.

I think that is when my difficulty communicating started to grow. I totally closed off from everyone, trapping myself in a never ending feeling of loneliness, even sometimes feeling like I am a spectator to my own life.

So I grew resentful towards my family, always wishing to stray away from them, to flee the country and build a new and better life. Away from everything. Then, I started thinking - very firmly - that without me, things would stay exactly the same. My family wouldn’t be impacted at all as I was only an unwanted nuisance that took too much care and money. I did not feel important, nor truly loved. I felt I just couldn’t be loved as I wasn’t interesting and had nothing for myself to make people appreciate me, just because I craved for attention I was not given by my family. 

Furthermore, when I had just started middle school, I found out I had scoliosis. And a pretty bad one at that. After three months of observation, my spine ended up forming a perfect S shape. It was so bad that I had to wear a medical corset, in order to keep my back in check. That is how I ended up wearing a plastic made medical corset 23 hours a day every day. All of that, just a few weeks before my 12th birthday… Yes, it was an amazing gift :).

So, I found myself being sort of disabled. Wearing something totally new to every single one of my classmates and even my school’s administration. Find a way to feel more left out and alienated. Yet, I was not truly bullied for it. People were kind and curious, often offering me to carry my bag or things like that. Still, I was faced with the fact that a majority of people just wouldn’t understand how hard it could be on someone’s body and mind. People just thought of aesthetic corsets when I had to explain what I had, and didn’t understand why I made the choice to wear one as well as why it handicapped me. 

In fact, it was truly a burden. It was not only painful, it was also truly incapacitating. I couldn’t bend down, I couldn’t sit without having my thighs being compressed and cut by the plastic, I couldn’t breathe or eat properly. At first I couldn’t even go to the bathroom with it. Plus, you are taught to get it on while laying down so I had authorized access to the nurse office - even when she wasn’t there - to take it off and pee. Only once was I refused the access to it, and my mom was so mad she made sure to call the school and report how it was unacceptable as I literally had a PCP (Personalized Care Project) which granted me special rights like access to the nurse office or even prioritized access to the cafeteria to not risk me being pushed and falling in the middle of a crowd. I actually got crushed by someone once. I was kneeling near my locker and someone fell on me. My breath cut short and I had trouble recovering. I only remember one of my friends opening my corset but nothing after that… Weird. But knowing how much I forget traumatic events I’m not even surprised :). 

Aside from that, the corset also took away my dream career of becoming a ballerina. It was a harsh reality check for a 12 year-old who already had a lot going on. So to sum it up, the corset physically blocked me, woke up unbearable back pains, made me feel even more abnormal, broke my dreams, ruined my birthday and made my nights even worse. Nice.

And it is only the beginning.

At the same time I also had a really sh*tty friend group. You know this type of friend circle in which everyone swears they’re best friends but spit on each others’ back? Well it was exactly like that. Adding the fact that they truly enjoyed putting only some people aside. I only have one friend from this group to which I still talk to this day. She is the only one who was honest with me, cared and liked me. And she changed schools during our second year, so she clearly got away from all the drama. But we kept contact and we are still really close.

Yet, I lost my best friend of 7 years to this group. She preferred to stay with them even if they were making fun of her behind her back, while I decided to leave and find other friends. Still, I was fairly traumatized by this friendship as one of the girls very clearly confessed in secret that she thought I was nonexistent, invisible and that without me things would be the same… So yeah, trusting people after that was especially hard.

Man, teenage years s*ck…

Eventually I found new friends with whom I felt a bit more like myself - whoever I was at that age. I got closer to this one girl I met at the very beginning of middle school and who is, today, still my beautiful and amazing best friend <3. That year I remember not having so many dark thoughts, but they became a bit too normal. Now that I had new people around me and felt I could express myself, it became really hard for me to repress my feelings. I was so used to bottling everything up, put on a straight face and feeling numb that once I felt a bit more at ease, it was impossible for me to go back.

I felt better with my friends and started questioning myself. Who I was. Who I wanted to become. Who I liked… I was around 14 years-old when I came out to my friends as Bisexual. I had this huge crush on one of my friends and even if I got - kindly - rejected, I knew where I stood. Everyone accepted me, I wasn’t judged by any of them. My siblings didn’t know yet at the time - as we didn’t share the close bond we have today. And my parents still don’t know to this day…

Nevertheless, this new discovery about myself made me question my attraction towards this one female friend of my friend group (just to bring precision, I didn’t and still don’t really hang out with boys much. Idk why lol). And this questioning ended up with me being in my first ever serious relationship, and it was with a girl behind my parents back.

I won’t go into details about this relationship or how catastrophic my middle sister’s first reaction was. But even if I should have known by now, things didn’t go according to plan… LOL.

I started this relationship thinking I had nothing to lose but in the end I lost my sanity and will to live, is that okay with you ? No but seriously, this girl ruined my life. She was what we call a ‘narcissistic pervert’. Literally made me lose any closeness I had to other people, wanting me to care only about her - even at my own expense. She constantly wanted to make me jealous with weird fantasies she had with her former crushes, making me feel like I clearly wasn’t the only one on her mind or even a tiny bit special. Once she even told me that before we got together she also had a crush on another girl, and that if we didn’t start something she might’ve not chosen me… B*tch. She even made me feel guilty for any little thing I could do or say when I tried to communicate - yes, it is called guilt tripping :). She was weirdly sexist, like she took on the ‘stereotypical role of the man’ in the relationship and wanted to be the one to lead the relationship in everything, even when it was uncalled for. She didn’t value my feelings, many times gaslighting me. Towards the end of our relationship, she often made me feel forced to engage in foreplay and sexual acts…

I know that, in a way, it was also my responsibility as I didn’t communicate much, always putting her first but I also felt like I couldn’t because whatever I said or did she put herself in the victim position while I was made the culprit. You know, she even got mad at me once because I fell asleep texting her - I took plant based pills, and they worked really well at the time. And she was aware of how much I struggled sleeping! Everything just had to revolve around her, all the time. It was clearly a one way relationship.

For other anecdotes - because I ended up going into details… :/. Even when I broke up with her, she couldn’t help but guilt trip me. She was literally telling me how cruel I was not to think about the situation she found herself in when I asked her for a break. (Yes, I needed a break first to see if I was better alone and to prepare myself to break up with someone… Oopsies.) Because of our relationship, I lost a friend who sided with her and it completely broke our friend group as no one wanted to hang out with the two of us when we were together. Yes we were f*cking cringe middle schoolers… Yikes.

One of the worst memories I have, concerning her lack of real care for me, was when I harmed myself… I was wallowing in self pity, hating myself and my life when everything was supposed to be better. I was dying with anxiety as important exams were coming up and as usual my feelings were minimized at home, and in my relationship. Even if it was the year I grew closer to my sisters, our relationships were still rocky - especially with my middle sister. I felt like all of my problems were meaningless, and I was the problem, the one to blame. So for an entire week I harmed myself. It was the simplest way I found to prove myself I had a reason to hurt. What better way to prove you’re in pain than having physical wounds ? That was my reasoning. It was also a clear cry for help as I did nothing to hide it. I constantly thought “the bigger it is, people would see it less.” And it always proved to be true.

One evening, I was having dinner with my two sisters and my mom. Simply wearing a tank top, my scarred wrists in plain sight. When my mom asked me what happened to them. I lied, saying that I simply scratched myself too hard with my long nails. And it was never tackled again. My sisters never caught up with it, my mom never asked more. It just went unseen. But, as I said earlier, my ex did even better. I literally showed her and after arguing a bit I just told her it was my way to cope and she answered “if it helps you, I’ll learn to live with it.” What a caring significant other am I right ?

Then after a week of only being able to think about doing it. I stopped because two of my friends found out and made me promise to never start again. But to be honest, I think I never really stopped. I learned that chewing the insides of your mouth (like really aggressively) is also a way to self-harm. I also used to scratch myself really hard when I felt mad at myself. And I happened to try and use a blade once more a few times, but felt extremely pathetic afterwards. I have been quite clean since then, especially since I don’t deny my own feelings and let myself have breakdowns lol.

During highschool I slowly started healing from this amazing relationship. Sadly, my anxiety grew because of school and just as I thought things could still go better… Boom. World wide pandemic. We had to stay focused on school while being stuck at home. It was really hard on me especially because my dad had to work from home while my mom - who takes care of kids at home - didn’t stop working. The cohabitation was less than pleasant. Anyway, I don’t have anything interesting to say about the period, just that it helped me go down the rabbit hole even faster :). A pleasure.

For my last year of highschool, teachers and adults expected us to go back to normal and be perfect students as if Covid never happened. They expected us to be okay. And it was just not possible. My anxiety went haywire as we had really important final exams at the end of the year that I couldn’t fail. All my friends were feeling down, I was feeling suicidal and just wanted to end the pain. I also lost my great-grandmother and a month later - literally two days before Christmas - my dog also passed away. It was a very difficult time for my family. Then came January and I felt more than ever like dying.

Each passing day I was only feeling like life was just a burden. Why did I have to suffer so much just from living ? I had to take the train every day, always thinking of just jumping on the rails. I had to fake a smile every day, to try and forget. To take care of my own friends who were too feeling horrible. I was just so tired…

Then my savior came. One of my close friends went to express their worries about me to one teacher with whom I was very close. She was a PE teacher and my dance option teacher for two years already. One day she asked me to talk after a class and as I exceptionally had finished class early I accepted.

It was the most intense and emotional discussion I ever had.

We both cried - a lot - I confessed everything. I was honest and she brought so much help. Thanks to her my parents became aware of the situation and I got help. She made my mom call a therapist she had heard only good things about and talked to me about what I could do and take to sleep better. I missed her class to go to my first ever therapy session and she often checked up on me. I could never thank her enough for everything. 

She saved my life. Literally.

This therapist was special but not bad. He talked a lot and I didn’t always feel heard, but he diagnosed me with chronic anxiety and slight ADHD. Therapy didn’t really help for my inner conflicts but I started to manage my stress a bit better. I passed my exams with less stress and excelled. But I still felt like it wasn’t a good match so I stopped seeing him. I let summer pass, trying to get my mind off of things. Went on vacation with my bestfriend and just tried to feel better.

Things went okay, but I was still bothered by anxiety as I was to start university. And it didn’t miss. Uni is a literal hell. Like what the f*ck ?? Why does it have to be so hard and stress inducing ? September was my way to hell…

I found a new therapist not far from my house. Since then I haven’t changed. My therapist is just amazing. I feel so much at ease with her, I have real conversations and I can freely express myself. I truly feel like it is helping me. Still, it was not enough for me to feel at least a little better on a daily basis so I started taking anxiolytics. It helped a bit but after a month it was clear that I had to take stronger medicine if I wanted to go through it day by day. So after being diagnosed with depression by a first psychiatrist I got prescribed antidepressant and sleeping pills. It was really hard at first as I had a LOT of side effects.

It did not help me sleep at all. The first night I literally did not sleep and had a mental breakdown just as I got up. I got really shaky and I was constantly nauseous. I missed some classes to rest at home but I couldn’t allow myself to miss more. I went on and even if we add to rise the dosage of my medicine I am feeling a bit better today.

I am still on my way towards healing but I think I am on the right path. I am surrounded by amazing people. My sisters and I are closer than ever, best trio ever <3 And I even grew closer to my mom. I express myself way more and try to be positive. It is not easy everyday but I start to finally believe that it might not be that impossible to heal. Right now school is almost finished for me and I never felt better. I am working on myself, trying to improve the person I am in order to become the person I want to be. I take good care of myself, try to change my mind and go out more. I do things I want and do not force myself if I don’t feel like it. 

I feel like I am in my healing era. B*tch I’m gonna glow up ;)

Anyway, if you ever went through difficult things I cannot tell you how important it is to surround yourself with good people and get help. It is really hard to ask for yourself, so if you see friends struggling do not hesitate to get them help. Believe me when I say I know how hard it is to accept the fact that things aren’t going well and that you have to do something about it. It is not going to be easy, it asks for a lot of effort but you are not alone. We can get through this. And… I think it is going to be worth it.

It’s going to be 5 months since I started being medicated, and 7 months since I restarted therapy. Things are looking good right now. I know I might still face some hard times but I am going to continue trying to feel better. I promise, if you promise to try too, dear reader. <3

✿❀✿

🔺Original work please do not steal or copy, Thanks.🔺