Tw: Sucidal Thoughts - Tumblr Posts

Vent art

I'm going to sleep now

Crap! Forgot to mention that these are my vent sonas... so if you see a post about them, it's definitely a vent.

Trigger warning: Suicide

Ok guys, I know you’ve all seen like a million of these tumblr posts but

Please

Please

Please

Like and reblog this post as much as possible.

My friend is contemplating suicide and we’ve agreed that for every note this gets, she lives another day.

So please, please like, reblog and comment on this post

I don’t know what I’d do without her

Wrote a Mass Effect Andromada short fic.

None of the doors on the Tempest could be slammed shut. Sara hadn’t encountered a manual door since being on Earth, which made sense because why would they waste wood on a door that couldn’t keep out the kett? But she missed the feeling of grabbing the edge of a door and swinging it shut with all her might. Maybe it would have made her feel a little better as she stormed into her room.

Tann was being an ass, asking her for more than she could do. Addison had made a quip about her needing to keep earning her title. Eos was apparently experiencing earthquakes which meant they had to take a break from the ongoing negotiations with the angarans and their efforts on Voeld even though they were so close to rescuing Moshae Sjefa. Sara’s heartrate was uneven, according to Sam, and he wouldn’t leave her alone about it. Jaal was angry. Liam was being moody and wouldn’t talk to her. Scott still hadn’t woken up. Peebee refused to sleep in a proper bed, remaining in the escape pod. Gil and Kallo were fighting, again. Vetra was hiding something. Lexi was worrying over the burn on Sara’s side even though it was fine. And apparently something on the ship was eating their supplies.

There was barely time to breath, let alone sleep or eat. Despite this and the criticisms from the Nexus, Sara thought she was doing alright. Until Cora started talking about the asari ark again. About how they needed a real Pathfinder. Well, maybe that wasn’t how the woman had put it but that was how it sounded every single time she opened her mouth and talked about the asari or Alec.

Sara could feel her throat slowly closing, like a hand around her neck starting to squeeze. She knew that feeling intimately now, after getting a little too up close and personal with some kett. Whenever one got ahold of her, she’d stick them with her omni-blade. She wished she could do that now. Jab forward, attack, make something else gasp for air. Writhe in pain. Feel what she felt for just one fucking minute.

“Pathfinder, I’m detecting higher than normal stress levels.” Sam spoke up, startling Sara enough that it made her gasp and forced air into her lungs.

Right. Sam. The only one who could feel what she felt. Who was actively feeling what she felt. Sara’s eyes stung so she closed them and covered them with her hand, blocking her view of Sam’s node in the corner. As if it did anything to hide from him. “Sam.” Sara’s voice cracked. She sounded rough, scratchy. She cleared her throat, mentally making a note to be careful not to speak near Lexi without taking a drink first. Last thing she needed was the medic thinking she had a cold. “Sam.” There, better. She dropped her hand away to “look” at Sam. “Who did Dad want to be Pathfinder?”

She hadn’t meant to ask that. But there was no hiding from an AI that lived in your head.

Sara expected an immediate response from Sam. She’d asked this question before and he’d answered before. He should have given her the same bullshit immediately. But this time he paused. Hesitated. Like a person unsure of what to say and not wanting to lie. It was evidence that Sam was changing. And Sara couldn’t decide if that made her mad or not.

“Your father certainly seemed to intend to pass the position of Pathfinder to either you or your brother.” Sam finally stated. His voice still held no inflection, that hadn’t changed yet. But Sara was starting to be able to read him. Maybe it was exposure, constantly having to speak to him. Or maybe it was the link. It didn’t matter.

“Sure. But which of us did he think should be Pathfinder?” Sara pressed. Her neck was burning. Pinpricks travelled down her back, sharp little prickles that felt like needles being rapidly jammed into her skin. Her right leg was jumping but she couldn’t move, the rest of her body locked in anticipation of the answer. Sam hesitated again and Sara couldn’t stand it. “Sam!”

“Scott.”

The answer should have felt like a blow. She wanted it to hurt like one, a sharp ache that she could focus on. But she’d known already, hadn’t she? She’d known since the moment she woke up with Sam’s voice in her head. It was never supposed to be her. So instead of a blow she got a spread of heat through her body as she finally accepted the truth. She scoffed. It turned into a laugh.

“Wow.” She breathed out, turning away from the physical representation of Sam on her table. Her legs worked again, letting her slowly walk a few steps away. “So even my own father didn’t think I could do this.” Sara laughed again, looking up at the ceiling of her room as her eyes stung once again. “Great. That’s just great.”

“Your father believed that you had the most experience needed for Pathfinding. But he believed Scott more capable of making hard decisions.” Sam said. And then, probably trying to lessen her pain, he added, “I believe he wanted to spare you some hardship.”

“But he didn’t want to spare Scott?” Sara questioned, spinning on her heel to look at Sam again. He was silent however and she turned away again, started pacing. “No, of course not. Sara’s too emotional but Scott? Scott I never let have emotions so he’s perfect for the job!” Sara laughed again at her poor imitation of her father’s voice. Though she thought she captured his self-righteousness.

Sam had no physical body so there was no body language to tell Sara he was uncomfortable. But she knew. “Sara—.”

“He thought I was weak. That’s what that means. He thought I was weak.” Sara said. Her pacing was getting faster but she couldn’t stop or slow down. There was too much in her now, she felt like she was vibrating. If she didn’t pace she was going to explode. “It wouldn’t have mattered if I’d done everything to be the next Pathfinder, he never would have given it to me if he hadn’t had to.” Her arms swung out grandly, harshly. Gesturing to nothing. “I was never good enough for him. Scott was never good enough for him. You probably weren’t even enough for him, Sam! No one was ever enough for perfect Alec fucking Ryder!”

The box she kicked across the room was filled with tech bits. Mostly broken and damaged items she tinkered with when she couldn’t sleep, then whatever tools she kept with them. A wrench flew out of the box and hit the floor with a clang before sliding towards the couch. She heard things break as they slammed against each other as the box hit the wall. A few loose bolts had also come out of the box and she watched them hit the floor before her attention was drawn up by the door opening.

Drack took a few steps into her room before stopping, only coming in far enough to let the door shut behind him. He didn’t say anything, didn’t move besides breathing, and his face gave away nothing. Sara had only ever seen him that still when they were sneaking up on kett, pausing to not get caught. Now he was doing the same thing to her. Waiting to see what she would do. If she’d attack.

Sara had probably already been shaking. But now she felt the trembling in her hands. “He never fucking believed in me, Drack.” Sara said. Her voice was shaking too. She hated it. Hated herself. Alec had been right, she was too emotional. “He wanted Scott to be Pathfinder, not me.”

Drack’s expression didn’t change but he titled his head slightly.

Sara tried to keep the tears building in her eyes from falling but the second she blinked they started falling with no hope of her stopping them. She was still burning, still vibrating, but she was locked in place again. She couldn’t pace with Drack looking at her, couldn’t gesture and yell and kick at things. Maybe, maybe, one of the others but not Drack. She didn’t want him to think she was erratic. That she was too emotional. “How am I supposed to do this? How am I supposed to deal with all of this when I know if he was here he’d be questioning everything I did? Disapproving of every choice I make?” The sob that escaped her throat caught her by surprise but she didn’t try to stop it. She never had been able to reign herself back in when she got this way. “I mean, he never approved of anything we did. Never. Except when we joined the Initiative. So you’d think I wouldn’t care.” That would make sense. If she just didn’t care. “I shouldn’t care.” Alec was an asshole. Had been for so many years. She shouldn’t care. “Why do I still care?”

Drack probably only just understood what she said as her voice gave out around her last words. Nothing more than a squeak came out of her mouth, though her lips still formed the words. Sara let the next sob come without saying anything else. Then the next. Slowly, she curled in on herself. Wrapped her arms around her waist and looked away from the krogan she desperately wanted approval from. She wouldn’t have it now. Not acting like this.

But when Drack finally spoke, it wasn’t to chastise her. “From what I’ve heard, Alec Ryder was a real piece of work.” He said, calm as can be. As if Sara wasn’t breaking apart in front of him. “Didn’t take him for the nurturing type. Didn’t think he was this bad though.” There was disgust in his voice. For a brief moment, Sara thought it was directed at her. But one glance up told her otherwise, Drack was looking at Sam accusingly. She didn’t understand why but at least he wasn’t disgusted with her. Drack turned his attention back to her and came forward, reaching but not touching. “Come on kid, you need to sit down for a bit.” He said and gestured towards the couch.

It took a second for Sara to process the suggestion but she followed it, walking slowly on shaky legs until she could collapse onto the leather. The couch was barely worn in, she hardly ever got to spend time in her room long enough to lounge on it. The most time she’d spent on it was when she had accidentally passed out on it while trying to fill out a report to Tann. Sara curled into the couch, looking away from Drack so she could focus on forcing her breathing back to normal. On calming the sobs shaking her chest.

Drack didn’t sit down, couldn’t on this couch, but he stayed close to her. “You know, I never met your old man. But I don’t think I would have liked him.” He said when her breathing had evened slightly.

Sara shook her head. “You would have.” She managed to say. Drack was smart, he knew how to pick allies. He would have gotten along with Alec if it meant helping his granddaughter and the other krogans.

“Really?” Drack grunted. “Only good thing I know about him is that he helped start the Initiative.”

The noise Sara made was meant to be a laugh but it just sounded a lot like another sob. “You should talk to Cora. She knows more about him than I do.” Sara reached up and wiped at her cheeks but they were so wet that it did nothing. “She knew how he wanted to die. I didn’t even know his favorite color.”

“Bet that stings.”

She loved Drack. She loved his bluntness, his willingness to push even when he probably shouldn’t. Because it gave her the excuse she needed to finally vent. To say things she’d refused to voice before then. She couldn’t be blamed for what she said, how she felt, if Drack had practically invited her to talk about it. “It hurts.” It felt good to say that. To finally admit that Cora was hurting her, whether intentional or not. Sara uncurled slightly, turning back towards Drack. “Everytime she talks about him. It hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. And I want to throw up. Just hearing her say his name.” Sara shook her head. “It’s like she’s talking about a completely different person. He was my dad. Mine. But she knew him better. Liked him better.”

Sara spotted an unopened bottle on her coffee table and uncurled fully to grab it. She gripped it tightly in both of her hands, almost cradling it to her chest. She didn’t drink much, which was why when she did she always went over the top. But holding something made her feel better. Made it easier to hide her shaking hands.

“And you know, I really hate hearing her say she misses him. That he should be here.” A hint of disgust creeped into her voice and she felt an immediate rush of guilt. It wasn’t Cora’s fault Alec was a bad father. “I hate when anyone says that.” She corrected, staring at the coffee table now. “I know it’d be better if he was here. That things would be easier. But it hurts. It’s like they’re saying they wish I was dead. That he should have let me die so he could be here instead.” Her grip tightened on the bottle. “Maybe he should have.”

Honestly, she hadn’t meant to say that. But it slipped out. And she couldn’t take it back.

There was a lot of silence around her. Some of it heavier than the rest, coming from Drack. She didn’t look at him. Didn’t lift her head or even move her gaze from the table to anything else. Just waited for the disparaging remarks to come.

“No.”

Sara flinched. Drack sounded angry. Now she couldn’t look at him.

“You think your dad could have done half the shit you do?” Drack questioned.

That didn’t make sense. Had Drack misspoke? “He…He was the Pathfinder, Drack.” She swallowed and let her eyes dart to Drack’s legs then away again. She’d been certain Drack knew about most of her duties but maybe he didn’t. Maybe he didn’t understand that Alec had made the job, that he had been perfect for it. “He knew what to do. In-In any situation, he knew what to do.”

“So he would have been able to handle the angara? Would have understood their whole feelings thing?” Drack pressed.

Sara wanted to immediately say yes but she hesitated. Alec thought she was too emotional. What would he have thought of the angarans? How long would he have been able to hold out until he snapped at them for not approaching things logically enough?

“What about the team?” Drack continued. Sara finally looked up at him, took in the scowl on his face. Not an ounce of his anger seemed directed at her but it was there in the set of his shoulders and the roughness of his voice. “You listen to us, kid. And you don’t try to fix things when you can't. You respect these people. Care about what they’re going through. Would your old man? Think your team would do well with him?”

That was easier to answer. No, the team would not have done well under Alec. Not personally. Professionally, they’d be as efficient as the Tempest. But every last one of them would be suffering, forced to keep their worries and opinions to themselves. Alec wouldn’t have cared about why Liam was moody so long as he got the job done. He would have told Jaal to get over his anger because it was a distraction. He’d threaten Gil and Kallo with replacement if they didn’t stop fighting. He’d make Vetra tell him whatever she was hiding, even though it seemed personal, because he didn’t want any secrets on his ship. Suvi would be patronized for her beliefs. And Peebee? Alec probably wouldn’t have ever let her on board.

The idea of her team being treated like that reignited her anger. It wasn’t as strong as before but it burned away some of the tightness in her chest.

Drack wasn’t done. “And Eos? Would Alec do favors for those people? Put necklaces on cliffs?”

No. No he wouldn’t. If it wasn’t important to the mission, he wouldn’t have done it. “He would have—He wouldn’t have done anything that didn’t pertain to the mission. Even research. If it wasn’t pertinent or promising, he’d leave it to someone else.” Sara admitted.

But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t have been better than her at the job. He was Alec Ryder.

Drack nodded but she could tell by the look in his eye he didn’t trust her. That he knew she was still doubting. “See? And if that isn’t enough for you, know I wouldn’t have worked with him.” The krogan declared.

This time, Sara’s laugh sounded a little more like an actual laugh. Startled and disbelieving but a laugh. “Really?” She doubted. She wasn’t sobbing anymore but the tears were still slowly falling. She was running out of them but for now they kept sliding down her cheeks and dripping off her chin onto her hands. One tear hit the bottle’s cap, making it glimmer.

“Like you said, if he was here you’d be dead. And I’m not working with a man who chose his own life over his kid’s.” Drack said. Sara couldn’t even look for a lie. There was nothing about him that allowed her to doubt him. Drack never would have worked with Alec.

Sara tried to imagine the team without Drack but couldn’t. He was integral to how they functioned. He could work with anyone else on the team, fighting alongside them seamlessly. And even if he didn’t, he was so important to making sure the krogans got a voice. Having him on the team meant Tann had a harder time speaking badly about the krogans and excluding them from future plans. Khash got heard much easier with Drack on the Pathfinder team. Drack needed to be on the team and he wouldn’t have worked with Alec.

“I—.” Sara swallowed. She didn’t know what to say. She wanted to say thank you. She wanted to tell Drack she was sorry for unloading on him. She wanted to admit that she’d been afraid of him rejecting her. She wanted to tell him she wished she could have seen him meet Alec, just so she could revel in the disgust the krogan would have felt for the man. All of it made her feel guilty. It manifested in her body as a curling feeling in her stomach. She wanted to tell Drack she felt guilty. Wanted to tell him that Alec hadn’t been bad at all when they were kids, that she and Scott had actually felt loved back then. She wanted to defend her dad and condemn him too. But instead, all she said was, “Okay.”

Drack reached out and, in a gesture that had to be the gentlest he’d ever been, pet her head. “I’m proud to work with you, kid.” He told her.

If she hadn’t already been crying, Sara would have burst into tears. “Thank you.”

She couldn’t say anything else. Thankfully, it seemed like Drack was satisfied enough to let the conversation die. He pulled his hand away, which made her miss the contact but gave her room to breath. Sara let herself relax back into the couch, allowed herself to appreciate how comfortable it was. She focused on breathing, on evening herself out. Drack stayed by her for a few moments, watching her calmly, before turning away. She expected him to leave but he didn’t. Drack started picking up the box she’d kicked. Sara watched him, eyes dropping, wondering why he was doing it but not having the energy to ask him. She could hear him humming. Felt the bottle in her hands slip to the floor and heard it hit with a dull thunk.

Sara fell asleep, forced into unconsciousness by the exhaustion her breakdown had caused. Drack noticed after he’d put the box and its lost trinkets back in their place. “Hey Sam.” He spoke out to the room. He didn’t like to address the thing but sometimes it was necessary. Didn’t mean he had to look at the little hologram of him in the corner. “Give the order that no one’s to bother Ryder for awhile. Kid needs her sleep.” He told the AI.

Drack grabbed a pillow and all of the blankets off of Sara’s bed. He wanted to put her on the bed but was worried she’d wake up and not go back down. So he carefully lowered her to lay down on the couch, putting the pillow beneath her head before it touched the cushions. Then he threw the blankets over her. He didn’t know how tightly he should put the blankets around her, humans were fragile but the room felt warm enough. So he let the blankets hang loose over her. Finally, he gave her another gentle pat, this time on her shoulder, before exiting her room. He needed a workout. Something to get out the anger he wanted to unleash on Alec Ryder but would never get the chance to.

Just a vent, I’m tired and stressed and I want to eat but I also don’t want to because I’m gaining a lot of weight

hey guys I know this ain't my usual content but (vent)

one of my friends kept joining bro like what you want bro.... I was feeling a bit edgy today not edgy but you get what I mean and sad. And yeah don't be concerned because that's not sigma😡

Oh this is painful! Oh the heartache! God, can you just imagine Danny falling in love and he had already kinda decided to not put most of his effort into returning to his dimension but to really settle in this one. But he fell in love and envisions himself engaged, married to this beautiful man that flirted with him and loved him despite his awkward true self and not only the Crown of Gotham (Crowne, get it!) facade he puts up for everyone else.

He helps kids find a safe space. Helps them out when the law would turn a blind eye to them.

And then the person you want to marry turns you in. And the story he tells in court to the news don't match up with your memories. They never fought over Danny staying out late. Dick never accused him of cheating. Why is he telling the news that? Why is he lying? Why did he really go through those notebooks?

Did...Did he specifically search for them?

So Danny wonders about how long Dick had an agenda with him. Was any of it genuine? And yeah he knows he's kinda stupid with love but he had noticed that Dick can sometimes be a bit hot and cold. One night they talk for hours in a hotel rooms each confessing secrets they never told anyone else and the next day when he's really finally admitted to himself that he fell in love Dick's not making eye contact. Avoiding it really. At the time Danny was just over the moon with it but now looking back at it, sitting in a holding cell... Well he just wonders.

He has quite a few bruises. Some from the Officer that arrested him, some from other staff that grip his arms with the intention to hurt. He's in isolation so other inmates and people in holding don't beat him to death. He got quite a few very graphic threats when walking down the hall.

But he thinks his biggest ache is his chest. His heart. He isn't sure the man that he wanted to marry ever truly loved him at all. And the kid he adopted as his little brother/son will probably never see him again. He just aches. He wonders if still pretending to be human is worth it.

For your adoptive son au all I can think about is the media storm that’s about to destroy these two 😭

Like when the news comes out everyone’s gonna bash Danny, saying things like “always knew he was shady” or “figures, rich people are all bad” and then praising Dick for going undercover and revealing the monster

And then BAM the accusations are false! All the kids that were on his file of “trafficked” kids all came to testify in Danny’s defense!

Then because the media needs someone to hate all eyes turn to Dick. Because “these are serious accusations he’s practically ruined Danny’s career!”

Tbh when all the court stuff is done I totally imagine Danny severing any and all ties to Wayne company, not because he’s petty but because it genuinely hurts to be connected to a company that belongs to his exes family

Like this is gonna destroy Danny and Dick but the media is gonna make it so much worse for them

The batfam is gonna kick themselves for honestly not digging a little deeper and interviewing a few of the kids on file before straight up turning him in, they probably think they ruined Danny’s life with these accusations

Danny probably doesn’t care that much about the company at this point, he’s just sad that the man he thought he was having a genuine relationship with turned out to be a fake and probably never loved him at all 💔

Despite the pain, Dick keeps an eye on the news, waiting for the announcement of Crowne's arrest to be announced. He went back to bed after taking some photos of the journals. He laid next to the man one that was profiting off of children.

He stared at the ceiling, feeling a sick sort of numb. Unwillingly he thought back to all the times he had had the stray thought that Crowne wasn't evil.

That the bats had it wrong. How could a man as kind and dear as he does something so horrid? Dick had allowed himself to be relived with each failed month of searching for evdidnce.

He can admit it now. He had prayed that Crowne was innocent and had conducted his investigation not nearly as through as he should have.

He had.

Crowne even keeps a record of who and where the children were sold to. The man he fallen in love with was bookkeeping his crimes as easily as he did for his company.

The following day, Crowne- he had been Danny only a few hours ago.- had made him breakfast. The same way his mother used to make for Dick, admitting with a blush that he contacted Harley Cirius to ask for the recipe.

He made his heart swell and then break in the same bite. Dick played his role through the breakfast. His face felt like plastic, the smile he sent Crowne slimly, and he all but ran out of that house.

The house that, in another life, they would have likely raise a family in.

Don't think about it. Dick hissed at himself, tears filling his eyes as he drove away. Bruce had edited out the evidence and would break in while Crowne was working to capture the record books. They would meet in Commissioner Gordon's office, where Dick would turn in his lover. Not my lover. It was never real.

If he tells himself that, maybe he will believe it.

The commissioner had been grim faced as Dick broke down in his office, speaking through wrenched sobs and broken words of the journals he had found. He didn't even need to pretend to be a sobbing mess.

Dick doesn't think he's felt this terrible in a long time. It felt worse than when he and Bruce had their fights. At least then he could also feel anger. Now, he only feels pain, grief, betyal and shattered hope. Bruce- playing the part of a worried father- rubbed his back and anchored him through the moment.

The story they went with was that a few weeks ago, Dick started to suspect that Crowne was cheating on him. After learning about his work schedule, he noticed his boyfriend was always busy with non-work business.

He brought it up with Crowne, but the other man would often dance around the subject. After a while of this, Dick had been unable to help snoop around, where he stumbled across the journals.

At first, he assumed the books were for the many children-based charities that Crowne ran and didn't think they were too important. He continues to date Crowne after not finding any cheating evidence. But Dick could not help about those strange journals or Crowne's cagey behavior about his wearabouts.

Dick had searched the children's names, only to find them all matching missing children notices. He realized what Crowne was doing and had gone straight to Bruce, freaking out.

Bruce had taken them to Gordon since the man was such a close family friend, and they were worried what Crowne would do to Dick if he learned what Dick had discovered.

Gordon had assured them that they would remain anonymous until the trial,getting the warrants and taking the necessary steps to arrest Crowne. Feeling numb, Dick had been taken back to the Wayne Manor.

Bruce fretted around him, unsure what to do with his son, who had obviously fallen for a monster. Jason and Damian tried in their own way too help too, but Dick could not feel up to any of it.

He climbs into his room, muffling his sobs into his pillow, feeling sick and wrong to his stomach. He tossed and turneduntil Crowne's voice whispered I think I love you, Dick and he as if his world was ending.

A few seconds later, he's racing into the bathroom, hurling the breakfast Crowne had made him. It swirled around in the toilet as Dick gagged and gasped, mourning what he had lost for this mission.

The sweet kind man he fell in love with was dead to him.

"The worst part," Dick thinks he confessed to Bruce between tears and throwing up. His father had come racing when Jason reported the noises coming from Dick's bathroom. "Is that I was the one who killed him."

It's been three days.

He had texted Crowne lying about going on a trip and barely responded to the messages he received in return. He hadn't gone out on patrol in days and had barely ventured out of his room.

Sleep evaded because all he dreamed about was Crowne's sweet smiles, gentle hugs, and laughing eyes. His nightmares were filled with Crowne's smug smirk, surrounded by screaming children in cages. The worst nights were when Crowne would kiss him, pushing him against the cages as children cling to Dick's legs screaming and crying in haunting tones. why? why? why? Why do you love him? Look what he's done to us! Why!? Save us!

Dick woke with his own scream trapped in his throat and his arms reaching for a man who he shouldn't want anymore.

Now he, in the present, he sat before his tv watching the News. The lights were all off, the curtains drawn tightly closed. His family worried about him, but they all agree to watch the moment by himself, if only to spare his diginty.

Gordon had sent the message that the warrents were approve and proof had been dropped off by Batman after bringing it to the hero's attention.

They would be arresting Crowne.

Dick would watch it live. See with his own eyes, and his own ears what his lies had exposed.

"Breaking news," The anchor suddenly says, staring intently into the camera. Besides her, a small window shows the familiar front entrance of Crowne's company offices. Dick clenches his fist into the blankets he has wrapped around himself. "Danny Crowne, Owner, CEO and head developer for his family company, Crowne Co. has just been arrested on accusations of human trafficking. We go live to Crowne Co Admin bulding"

The window expands to the entire screen, and Dick feels his stomach turn into horrific mini-whirl pools as various camera crew scramble for a clear view. There is a crowd of unhappy citizens being held back by the police.

Someone had leaked what crimes Crowne had done. The news had spread fast enough that he was deeply hated by the people who had once cheered onhis name.

Crowne is led out in handcuffs by two scowling police officers. His suit is rumpled, and three large bruises are forming on his face- probably due to Officer Black, whose sister was sold to human traffickers when he was a kid-but it means nothing to his expression of devastation.

He looks to be in shock, staring down at his bound hands with dead seat eyes as if he was unsure of what he was seeing. The crowd starts screaming the moment they catch sight of him. Loud curses and swears are all aimed at the man who stumbles his way into the police car.

The doors of Crowne headquarters burst open by a screaming child. Timothy Drake is held back by officers as he desperately screams for his older brother. He starts fighting with all his tiny might as a woman from CPS drags him away.

The reporting journalist for the News outlet doesn't stop speaking as Crowne is led away, looking to be sobbing into his hands as the Police drive away. Drake is thrown into another car, banging on the windows and screaming so much his voice is raw.

The two would likely never see each other again.

Dick's vision blurs with more tears.

He wishes this would have made him angry. He's good with anger. He knows his rage. This grief is consumingly painful.

She outlines the accusations against Crowne, explaining that Gotham's finest had gotten a tip from an unknown source about the possible missing children. Dick slumps into his bed ice racing down his arms and legs, leaving each limb in pins and needles.

He can't stop picturing Crowne's form hunched over in tears, glowing in those red and blue lights.

"There is a gag order on the investigation, " the woman says, mic close to her face and looking grim. "We will keep the people updated with any new information released as we wait for Crowne's trail. Back to you Susan."

The screen flashes back to the old news member, who makes one single comment of disgust for Crowne before moving on to a string of cyber attackes by a unknown hacker.

Dick stops listening due to the rining that build up in his ears. It's done. Crowne was arrested. He will be go through his trail, be found guilty and locked up for the rest of his life.

Batman, Robin, and Sparrow would be hunting down the people involved in the ring, rescuing the missing children. The story was over. The villian defeated and the heros had won.

Yet, Dick felt that he could never live to see a happily ever after. He doesn't think he'll ever be able to feel happy.

______________________________________________________

Days blend into each other. Dick isn't sure how much time passes with him lying in his room, too exhausted to get upand go about his day. His family crowds around him, speaking in low, worried tones.

Jason tries to read to him. In bursts of awareness, he discusses the plot but most days, Dick can only find the energy to only stare at him.

Damian, still trying to find his footing in the manor, brings his cat- Alfred- to cuddle against Dick's chest. He doesn't speak much but the purring of his pe helps some sensations return.

Bruce spent most of his time petting Dick's hair and whispering apologies. For the fighting. For the war, he brought him into. For making him due something that had broken Dick's heart. Dick tells him between sobs that he forgives him and that he's sorry too.

Alfred just provids support, tea and stories of his own lost broken heart.

Dick can feel himself rot around in his room but can't bring himself to care. Not even when Bruce finally panics enough to invite the Teen Titians to speak to him. His friends arrive between waves of consciousness, forcing food down his throat and pushing him into the shower.

He isn't aware of how Crowne's trial is going. Walley doesn't think it is a good idea to keep up with it, blocking it from all his outlets. He's the only one he would be allowed to do that.

It leaves Dick in the dark, and suddenly the world looks so much colder. It is hard to remember the world is still spinning outside of the Manor.

Dick closes his eyes, sinking into his mattress, drifting away among the worried chattered of his friends. Thankfully, the nightmares have stopped. The memoriess too.

All that greets him is the blissful nothing of darkness.

____________________________________________________________

"You did this." A voice hisses, snapping Dick from his blank stare at the wall. Raven and Kori had just stepped out after magically him clean and had gone to go get him food.

How many days has it been since he left his room? Dick can't remember. It's been a while; his body feels weak. His friends' and family's eyes have grown increasingly frantic in worry.

He twists his head to find a small figure in his doorway. It's not any of his younger brothers but someone dressed in all black. The bottom half of their face is covered by a black cloth, leaving their burning blue eyes alight with hatred in plain sight.

A intruder.

Dick should be worried about that, shouldn't he? He can't find the energy to be.

"He trusted you. He loved you. And you did this to him," The figure spats, striding forward, hatred dripping from his words. "They're investigating my parents too. The police think they helped Danny and took me away from them. My life is ruined because of you."

He stands over his figure now, holding a needle. Dick wonders if he's going to kill him. He can't find it in himself to care. Is that not an alarming thought?

But he doesn't feel fear. In fact, Dick can't feel anything at all. He makes no sound as the needle breaks the skin of his neck, nor when the figure leans in to whisper. "It's only fair I ruin yours in turn, right?"

Dick slowly gives into the blissful darkness as more figures enter the room, surrounding his body and lifting it off the bed. The last thing he sees is the thrown picture frame, one of the intruders throwing onto the sheets.

It holds the smiling faces of Dick and Crowne on their last date.

Tw//blood

<3

Tw//blood

⋆͛♡⋆͛

It's been a week... Since I started Johnnytober. Normally I wouldn't be saying how many days have passed but with the fact I without YouTube it's worth it because I don't have much to do.

I mean, god I do have a lot I can do but I simply... Hate myself. There's no other words. When I stuck in place all I can think is ending it all.

Fucking hell, I going to have to block certain tags on my tumblr because I see "men don't interact" about how much men are vile creatures and I think "well there's a way to resolve at least one of this issues and it's with a bullet to my head." Jesus, is not even funny anymore.

I'm volatile it seems, probably because of the depression Im carrying. I hate this bloodsucker, draining me even if I literally just breathing.

I don't know what to do. I not actually having "problems" my life is good! I mean, as better as it can be. My parents are wonderful people to me (even if they are kinda homophobic, didn't tell them the spy I am lol) I spent my day "relaxed" but still feel like I want to disappear.

I want to scream, pull my hair out, beat my head in the wall until I go unconscious. I not brave or stupid to do it, and sincerely wish I was.

I telling you all this because, well I can't say it at real life. Only thing people can give me are sweet words that don't mean anything.

...

Well, I guess that's all. Trauma dumping on social media, let's go... Eh...

Johnnytober is certainly helping me, even if it's kinda word vomiting. I don't care if it doesn't get many hearts or reblogs. I know how to get them, it's a social game where you play what everyone wants to see.

I want to write what I want to see. It's egotistical? Extremely. But fuck it, I don't care. That's what I taking this, or what's to understand. I going to continue to scream, make art by cutting my heart and letting it all here.

Thank you for the people who see what I do and interact. Thank you to the mutuals I have. Thank you.

As someone who has been put of many different antidepressants, I can say that from my perspective, we notice the difference too.

Every time I was placed on new medication everybody around me told me that I “seemed to be getting better” or “your acting like you again” and I just want to say that the meds made everything harder for me.

The only difference in my situation is that they didn’t tell us the risks-

That’s not to say that medication doesn’t work, in many cases the medication can be the difference between life and death, it’s almost like a coin flip.

If it wasn’t for some really close friends who were constantly checking up on me (and calling when I didn’t answer texts) the situation I’m in now would be very different.

Bottom line is, check up on your friends!

If you see that they have had a sudden change in behaviour or have started meds that are negatively affecting them, talk to them!

It might be a difficult conversation, it might not be a conversation that they actually have with you. It could still be the small thing between life and death.

One small phone call or one simple message can really change someone’s life.

Even if it only helps them realise what’s happening. They may not speak to you but they might speak to a family member or a professional.

You are loved, remember that.

If you have letters to write you have reasons to stay.

There are anonymous call centres if you need someone to talk to with no strings attached.

Someone is always in your corner.

<33

my favorite side effect warning is for antidepressants

pros: you won’t want to kill yourself

cons: you might want to kill yourself

Chat I'm actually considering suicide

Who wants to do a double suicide w/ me?

(literally anything from hanging ourselves to overdose)

Y’all know that inexplainable feeling where you cant describe how amazed/excited you are? Like you can’t put it into words?

That’s how I feel, this is AMAZING. I- AGSVAYVSJDBSMS

"Don't you think you've done enough?"

Wakko was angry.

Very, very angry.

He thought Dot was on his side- but she was easily swayed by that dumb doctor.

Ooh, that doctor made his blood boil. He suggested talking to Yakko, but that wasn't going to work because he was hypnotized by Max. Scratchnsniff didn't understand- he couldn't possibly understand what it was like to watch a brother who swore he'd die for you just... abandon you out of nowhere.

He thought his mother would understand too, but it seemed she was fooled too, wanting him to give Max a shot. Yeah right- would she suggest he "just give Grandma a shot?". No. It was clear she was underestimating Max's control of Yakko. He wasn't just "a little carried away". He was hypnotized- he had to be.

If he wasn't, then...

If Dot and his mom wanted to give up on him, fine. He could save Yakko all on his own. He had the brains. He'd just have to go a little bit further this time- to make sure Max would never want to come back ever again. He had to make sure Max knew he wasn't welcome and do it in a sneakier way so he wouldn't get caught this time.

Wakko was going to lock Max in the tower.

And he knew just how he'd do it.

He had already stolen the key, though his paranoia made him check to see if the door had been blocked up constantly. however- he even took a step beyond, making sure a key similar enough replaced it, to assure no one would notice it was gone.

As far as getting Max there, he knew he wasn't strong enough or tall enough to drag or force him to the tower, so he'd have to make him want go up there himself. Going off of his mom's "advice", he figured he'd just say that he wanted to talk with him alone in a letter or note or something, which was easy enough. The hard part would be getting it to Max without being seen. He didn't have time to send it in the mail, as he was visiting the very next day.

So that meant he'd just have to wait for an opportune moment when the day arrived.

Which he did.

He ate breakfast just with Dot, apparently, his parents and Yakko had gotten up earlier and were busy this morning- which he was fine with. He wasn't exactly feeling chatty, though Dot kept giving him looks which he ignored.

If she knew anything, she didn't say, so Wakko moved on with his day.

When Max arrived at Warnerstock castle, it went much like it did the first time: with Max only giving them side glances but otherwise ignoring their existences and running off with Yakko. What made it different though was Dot going with their parents and goofy, leaving Wakko by himself to enact his plan.

Normally he would've felt offended at such an exclusion but he needed to enact his plan somehow, and he had already set up a room with art supplies to help distract him while he waited for them to break for lunch before he could plant his note.

Thankfully, the hours passed rather quickly, and Wakko was able to make his move. Hurriedly, he ran into the room Yakko and Max always hung out in and placed the note carefully in Max's satchel (he always brought one to bring gifts for Yakko from Disneyland or something like that according to the letters) before running with all his might to the tower, unlocking the first door and climbing up the fifty feet to the top, unlocking that heavy iron door, and slowly and painfully pulling it open and hiding behind, hoping Max wouldn't be suspicious of it being open when he arrived.

Unlike before though, it was a very, very long time before he heard Max at the bottom of the tower. With each step Max took, Wakko's heart raced more and more as he gripped the key in his hands tighter.

He had to do this. He had to make Max hate him- hate all of them. He had to make Max know he wasn't welcome- that he couldn't get away with separating his siblings.

Max was a bad person. He deserved this.

By the time Max reached the top, Wakko's heart was racing, and he kept a hand over his mouth to make sure his breath was silent. He made sure Max was deep into the dark and dusty room before Wakko pushed the heavy door shut with all his might, scrambling to lock it and scurrying down the stairs as fast as he could- ignoring Max's shouts and questions as he pounded against the iron door.

Max was a bad person. He was trying to take Yakko away from him.

As he scrambled down, his mind was flooded with memories.

Dot's cries, the ache in his ears, the horror as he looked down, the banging of his head against the floor, the slamming of the iron door, the hopelessness-

Max was a bad person. He deserved this.

Wakko ran faster, closing his eyes best he could in a poor attempt to suppress the memories. He almost kissed the ground when he reached the bottom, but he didn't waste his time, running out and locking the door as fast as possible before running all the way to his room and laying down in his bed and burying his head under his pillow in hopes his breathing and heart would calm eventually.

However, his head throbbed as the memories he was trying so desperately to swallow surfaced once more.

"Let go of him!" Dot had shouted, pulling on Angelina's dress- and before Wakko knew it, his grandmother's grip was tight around his neck as he felt himself dangling off the ledge. He shouldn't have looked down, but he did.

Dear god- he was going to die.

"Shout at me again young lady, and I will," Angelina threatened, her grip around his neck tightening.

"Wait- please! Don't hurt him-!" Dot got on her knees and begged, tears streaming down her face as she made eye contact with him.

Dear god he wished he was a lot braver.

"Go back downstairs, Angelina. You've done enough today," Angelina spat on Dot's face. It filled Wakko with rage, but he couldn't fight back. He saw Dot's look of defeat as she lowered her head.

"Good girl," That bitch of a grandmother said, and Wakko felt a return to the ground. He immediately went to go hug Dot, but she grabbed his arm and forced him away from his sobbing little sister before tossing him in that disgusting and dark prison.

"How long do you plan to leave me in here, huh?!" He had shouted, his voice betraying him and cracking as tears filled his eyes. He pounded against the door demanding a response, but the only response he got was mumbles from his grandmother, and a yelp of pain from Dot.

He continued to pound his fists against the door with everything he had in him for hours on end. He had to make her suffer- she couldn't get away with this. She couldn't just hurt his siblings like that- she needed to pay.

By the end his hands were bruised and bloody and his voice practically vanished due to the shouting. Eventually- he just gave up, hugging his knees as he begged for this nightmare to end, somehow.

Angelina the First was a fucking monster.

...was Max really the same?

O-of course he was. He was taking Yakko away from him- from him AND Dot. Angelina did that too. She knew they were weaker seperated and always divided them, and Max knows the same.

Sure Angelina never made Yakko happy ever... but that meant Max was just more of a threat, right? His techniques were new- Yakko didn't know how to protect himself against them. Wakko was just doing what he had to to protect his sibs.

Wakko was doing what he had to.

Time passed- a lot of it. Eventually someone came into his room, and Wakko buried himself under his blanket, clutching the key as tight as he could, hoping they'd just assume he was asleep.

"Wak, have you seen-? Oh-" It was Yakko, embarrassed that he "interrupted Wakko's nap".

"Sorry- I'll just-... have a nice nap," Yakko apologized and left.

See? His plan was already working.

...Right?

God, would the pounding in his chest ever stop???

He was just doing what he had to.

Just what he had to.

.o0o.

More time passed, though Wakko couldn't be sure how much. All he knew was that Yakko had begun to worry, seriously searching through every room in the castle (as Wakko could hear from the door slams). He didn't check on Wakko again, but there were a few close calls. Eventually, Yakko must've employed his parents help though, as he soon started hearing them begin to search too.

It dawned on Wakko that perhaps he should've forged a note from Max that said he ran away or something- that would've prevented the searches and made Yakko hate Max too.

Oh well- hindsight and all that.

The pounding in his chest never stopped.

Eventually, he heard his door creak open slowly as he quickly tried to pretend he was still sleeping, but Dot wasn't easily fooled, as she climbed onto his bed and shook his shoulder, pulling back the blanket.

"Max is missing and mom told me to get you to help search. If you have anything to do with this- I swear-" Dot's eyes fell onto the key in Wakko's hands.

"...You didn't-" Dot's eyes widened. Wakko nearly jumped off the bed.

"I-it's not what you think-!" Wakko fumbled in shock, but Dot took the opportunity and snatched the key from his hand and ran out of the room, and after Wakko processed what happened, he chased after.

"Dot give it back!" Wakko shouted at her.

"No! His dad is looking for him and Yakko is really upset! I won't let you keep him there!" Dot shouted back.

"You're just brainwashed! He's manipulating you- just like grandma!" Wakko disputed.

"No he isn't Wakko!" Dot contended. "You're the only one who thinks that!"

"I'm just doing what I have to to protect Yakko! Yakko would never have left us before Max arrived- why can't you see that?!" He argued back.

Eventually, Dot slowed and sighed.

"Max is nothing like Grandma- he's pretty cool and is nice and has a nice dad and Yakko really cares about him. He doesn't deserve to be locked in there- just like how you didn't," Dot's grip on the key tightened.

"Locked in where?"

To Wakko's horror, Yakko and Lena weren't too far away.

Neither sibling responded, As Dot gripped the key tighter. However, she didn't hide it, and eventually Lena noticed, her face mortified with recognition.

She looked at Wakko a moment, before shaking her head and taking the key, hurriedly walking toward the tower.

"Locked where? Where does that key go?" Yakko asked innocently as he followed along- he was the only one of the four who hadn't seen it before.

Dot and Wakko decided to follow too, despite the dread that filled both of them with every step (though Dot's was more of empathy than of direct guilt).

However, Yakko was clever, and eventually he recognized the halls.

He grabbed the key from his mother's hand and bolted to the tower, unlocking the door as fast as he could, and running up the stairs at least 3 at a time.

Lena, Dot and Wakko stayed at the bottom silently.

Eventually, the heavy iron door creaked open, and Max was released- the pair making their way down slowly. Wakko didn't hear a word either of them said- the pounding in his head louder than ever as he suppressed tears.

However, when he reached the bottom, he made eye contact with Max.

He didn't... seem mad. Just tired.

"Max, please give your father our sincerest apologies. We're terribly sorry this happened- if there's anything we can do to make up for it, please let us know," Lena apologized.

"Yeah, okay," Max shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets. "Where is he, by the way?"

"Likely the grand foyer with William- Yakko, would you-?"

"No, I can walk myself." Max interrupted, giving a quick nod to each of them before walking out, leaving everyone frozen as he walked away.

Shit.

His plan worked, but he still felt like crap. Why??? Max was bad. He tried to seperate- he was bad. He-

"Wakko- what the fuck was that?!" Yakko's face was full of tears as he grabbed his brother's collar.

"Yakko- let go of your brother. Now." Lena ordered.

"No- what the fuck?! First, you try to ruin our hang outs, then you read my letters, and then you lock him in the prison our grandmother threw you in and left you to starve??? What is wrong with you?!" Yakko demanded.

"Yakko, I said now." Lena broke them apart.

"Y-you were so blinded by him-!"

"Because I like him, Wakko! He's a good guy!!!"

"He was trying to take you away!!!"

"No he wasn't-! God- are you even listening to us? How many times have we tried to tell you you're delusional!" Yakko threw his hands in the air.

"I am not!!! Why can't you see it-!" Wakko began to tear up too.

"God- are you seriously gonna cry?! You're the one who decided to possible ruin the only fucking friendship I've ever had outside of my family and not only that- but you also possibly just ruined Warnerstock's relationship with Max's Kingdom too!"

Wakko took a step back at that.

"I-i didn't-"

He looked at his mom and Dot- their looks confirming.

"No... No- i- I can't believe you. You are such an idiot- Did you not consider that would happen at all?" Yakko was baffled.

"Yakko-" Lena tried to interrupt.

"I-i'm not an idiot!" Wakko tried to defend, but it was getting really hard for him to justify his actions...

"Yes, you are!!! God- you never think anything through- and even if you realize it was utterly moronic, you still commit!" Yakko spat. "Fucking wild animals have more sense than you!!!"

"Yakko, that is enough." Lena snapped.

Silence echoed through the empty tower, but the damage had already been done. Wakko looked to his mother for sympathy, she only met him with a look of dead seriousness.

"Wakko- you put Warnerstock's relationship with Disneyland, as well as Yakko's relationship with Max, at great risk due to your recklessness and jealousy. There will be a severe punishment to speak of in the morning." She said firmly.

"I w-was just trying to protect..." He hardly had the strength to say it.

"Wake the fuck up, Wakko. Does anyone here look better off- or "protected"- because of your actions? Haven't you done enough?" Yakko bit. Lena gave him a look, but Wakko saw he was right.

Good god- he really was a screw-up, wasn't he?

"I just..." Wakko practically whispered, as he looked to Dot, who only shook her head and looked away. With that last little betrayal, Wakko had had enough. Before he knew it, he bolted out of the tower and out and around the hallways of the castle, before he made it out into the garden and ran deep, deep, deep within to where the hedges were trimmed high and he knew no one would hopefully ever find him.

God- he was such an idiot. He should've listened- he should've fucking listened. Now Yakko hated him, his mom hated him, his dad probably hated him, and even Dot hated him. He put the kingdom in jeopardy- god- why was he such an idiot??

Grandma was right about him. He never knew his place- always acting out on idiotic decisions, impulsive like a filthy animal (though even rabid animals had more sense than him).

He should just stay in this garden forever and die, then everyone around him would stop being hurt from his stupid decisions.

Wakko curled into a ball, hugging his knees as he laid in the grass as he sobbed and sobbed and sobbed and sobbed until he eventually ran out of energy, and before he knew it, he was totally and utterly asleep.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Thinking about how the very first episode of Wynonna Earp went on air today Five years ago. It has been five bat shit crazy years!

TW: Depression, Attenpted Suicide

Five years ago, I was so fucking deep in the closet and was filled with internalized homophobia. At that point, I genuinly wanted to kill myself and was suffering through undiagnosed depression. When I discovered Wynonna Earp in 2018, I found a show with badass female leads and the infamous Nicole Haught. That was the first time I saw a character that was so confident in her sexuality and this wasn't something I should have to hide. That representation was the push I needed to be confident in myself and finally come out. That is not say that I saw the show and was instantly cured, that would be a lie, in truth before that I had tried to kill myself several times and had started therapy, but Wynonna Earp was a big step in my journey.

In conclusion, Wynonna Earp helped me be confident in myself and that is just another reason on my long ass list

I FIGHT FOR WYNONNA

I know this might sound pathetic/weird but ill say it anyway.

These lovely human beings saved me from alot of things. I've felt like committing su!cide lots of times. but when i listen to their music it makes me feel like there's hope like there's something to live for. So thank you stray kids, you've helped me alot and ill always appreciate it.

Also, who thinks as a grandma/grandpa you'll just be dancing to kpop like there's no tomorrow cause i know for sure i would🤣

Maddie has half a mind to turn around and come back to the cemetery tomorrow, or maybe sometime in the middle of the week, when California doesn’t feel like it’s trying to burn her alive.

She’s already committed though and drove the 2 hours it takes to get from Los Angeles to San Diego, so turning around would only be a waste of time. Besides, today is his day, and the visit wouldn’t mean as much on another day of the week as it will today. So Maddie grabs at her bag laying on the passenger seat and steps out of her car, heading towards her destination. It isn’t that far from the entrance, just a few rows down, when she comes to a stop to read the headstone she’s so familiar with.

Tw: drugs, sh, suicide

I made my mum cry 2 times today. And I feel guilty for it, but at the same time I just feel numb.

It's funny how hearing my perception of the world and her actions can make her cry when she always tells me that I have nothing to be sad about.

I think that she loves me, I just also want to feel it.

Feeling this numb is always a risky time, right now it would be so easy to just take a few more of my sleeping pills and leave.

I don't mind the pain I cause other people when I can't feel it. It's freeing to not care and cater to everyone's needs, but I also loose everything that makes me me.

I have to get out of this state or it could get dangerous. Maybe I'll make myself bleed again, relapse after more than two weeks again. Or I could drink, wake up tomorrow not remembering anything and with a headache that will kill me. Or maybe I should just smoke some weed. Relaxing and unwinding, caring even less but in a nice way. Getting lost in the smoke and my own mind.

I don't know. I probably shouldn't do any of it. I know I shouldn't. But keeping me alive takes killing me slowly.

Tw: suicide ideation

Tell me how to end this and I will. What is left on this planet for me? I want to stumble over a cliff and fall. Be free.

I want to be something different. Let me become stardust again.

Tw: sh and suicide

My cuts from my last relapse are getting infected and there is pus and the skin is all red and inflamed and it hurts and I am so tired and just want to end it all...

It would be so easy to just take something and get it all over with...

tempted to rage quit life