#psych ward stories

[f-elixie]

you know what was funny

when a girl in the psych ward convinced me i was god and praised me and i walked around thinking im spawning our dinners just outside our unit

#bpd #actually schizospec #schizophrenia #schizotypal personality disorder #felix's ramblings #psych ward stories #psych ward memories

[zztibranul]

the last time i was in a mental hospital we had a girl on the unit who was a pathological liar. i think she knew that we all knew she was lying, but the STREAM of words from her mouth never ended.

a list of things she lied about (unironically):

- she was born in egypt and her birth certificate was written in “hieroglyphics” (rather than like… arabic?)

- her couch at home was “coach brand” (whatever tf that means)

- she didn’t have dogs, she had a pack of wolves whom she commanded like a disney princess (???)

- she was the reincarnation of the goddess isis (her name was isis and she was middle eastern, this was her sole reasoning)

- she had a secret brand-new iphone 9 in her room on the ward (it was 2017 and i wonder how she felt about iphone 9 never becoming real)

- she had a secret tattoo that spanned the entire side of her body (she exclusively wore clothing that was slightly too small so that one was disproven like immediately)

- she was vegan (we saw her eat meat and drink milk regularly)

- she graduated high school already and had a college degree (she was 14 and went to class with all of us in the school room at the hospital. she was very upset that she had to go to class.)

- she had an adult boyfriend who was super rich in egypt (she was very proud of this one)

in all seriousness though, i hope she got the help she needed because What The Fuck. i don’t know exactly why she was on the unit because she never talked about it, but i hope she is okay now. isis if ur out there girl… why?

#lunars bits #mental health #mental hospital #psych ward stories #stories from the psych ward #pathological liars #why did any of this happen

[painisntn33ded]

hahahha i just remembered that when i was inpatient with 15 this nurse transferred to our unit and she immediately told me about her ex husband's depression, her best friends anorexia and how she was helping teens now become she knew her best friend would never recover from her ed because she was too old and then she started showing other girls on the ward her sh scars 💀

#p #psych ward stories

[placentaeater999]

Got out of a psych ward today, and my youngest sibling (who loves Twilight) met me in the parking lot with this sign so here's me holding it at home

(Ps: ik some of yall are gonna make this a weird thing but i gave them full permission to make this sign. The humor of it really lightened my day)

#psych ward #psych ward stories #alexs psych ward stories #twilight #where have you been loca #i was hospitalized and gave my sibling full permission to make this so i dont wanna hear anything bout it

[homeiswherethe-artis]

Do you want to help me write a chapter?

Hello!! I’m writing a book that will include scenes inside a mental hospital/psych ward, I have no personal experiences with such places and would like to depict them and the people within them as well as I can. So with the help of you and this handy google form, you could tell me your personal experience with psych wards completely anonymously! Please answer the questions with as much detail as you are comfortable with, just whatever you may think help :) thank you so much to anyone who participates!! If you would like to learn a little more about the book, it’s in my pinned post :3 (the haunting of miss Caroline Marsden) Google Form: https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSe7Re98TVWxKh3XTZX5obuF8OZBID3ztSw9RIDsrOhJysoqwA/viewform?usp=sf_link

#writer #help me write #psych ward #psych ward stories #google form #mental hospital #mental illness #bpd #mentally ill characters #how am I meant to tag this #beginner writer #idk if this is good

[medusapetrichor]

kind of sad sometimes that i never really got to have my little Girl Interrupted moment & stay in touch with people from the psych ward until i remember i was in a clinic in a whole other state and the majority of patients on the ward consisted of guys in their 40s called holger

#psych ward stories #girl interrupted

[spitzone]

So I went from moms home , across the bridge, across another bridge, walked down to the other side, beside my old church.

I went thru a student neighbourhood - that’s when I went in someone’s backyard, got naked, peed on the ground, danced to music for them: and my phone died

I packed up and walked forever away, so cold, so dirty, so alone, and no phone no money no ID.

I made it to the circle k where I swindled the poor man there, and then McDonald’s…. It was like no one saw me

Then I went to the parking lot I mentioned - familiar place beside the train tracks, these two men came up to me and chilled with me, they said they were going to Burlington, they were lost, trying to get home. I remember their faces, all of them. The one man had a bloody hand, he had been stabbed.

Then they got in a car and left - I told them look for their dream girls, don’t lose them… the security came, a face of death. He looked unhappy and dead inside. I thought he wanted to kill me. I refused to leave .

Then the cops came, I remember their three faces as well. Tall figures, one black hair man, one blonde blue eye man with tattoos, and one woman with blue eyes, they smelled sickly sweet…. They smelled like this gross fragrance.

Then the paramedics came, I thought they were raptors in the flesh. Cold eyes, cold eyes, but they wrapped me up, tied me down, put tubes all on me. I ripped them off.

Then I was rolled into the emergency psychiatric section, dirty, dark, terrifying. I feel like I wailed the whole night in that room. No toilet paper, shitting, pissing, no food, and saddest to me: No cigarettes…

I wanted to smoke so fucking badly - I guess that is psychosis? But I was strangely present- it just felt as though I was on mushrooms, I was moving thru space and time, as an abstract art fare. It was spiritual warfare I was committing.

Oh I forgot: dancing like a wolf on the steps on the cathedral, until the hoses came on, they sprayed me with cold water…. I was howling like a wolf. I told them, if anything, this is what it’s like when you trap an angel in a cave with a demon. They’re inexplicably connected in some ways, and the soaring fear felt inhuman…. I needed to wake up the trees…. It felt like the whole world went mad with me.

Also turns out during this Rogers network in Canada went completely dark. Network connection shut off, then Boris resigned from the British parliament, and so on. And so on.

#psychosis #mentally ill #mental illness #mental health #ptsd #actuallymentallyill #psych ward #psych ward stories #story #confession

[whatlovelybones-if]

ragged breaths pour out of you as you scrub your hands clean of the crimson liquid which stains your hands and your very soul. it was brutal and beautiful—the colour and how the red strands swirled around as it united before falling down the sink pipe.

you blink and clench your hands. the very hands which so effortlessly carved up the heart from inside the man laying on your rough ‘operating table’. you are terrible, yes. there was no other word to describe you. a vigilante, maybe? but did it even matter when there is a part of you which feels the thrill of the killings and torture that you so cunningly come up with no mercy?

no, actually, there are other words to describe you. heartless, being one of them. the irony of that when you quite literally removed someone’s heart recently is not lost on you.

rotten. sadistic. torturous. depraved. murderer.

it was how you revelled in the pain you caused others; how you can’t stop the excitement spreading across your body when you see the utter terror in their eyes; how you sometimes let them have a moment of freedom, just to tear it all away at once and see as hopelessness encompasses every cell of their body. the scalpel that you used in carving the man’s heart probably possessed more sympathy than you did.

you are not the same, the voice taunts you. you are not the same person who cried over the dead raven for night’s on end. you can’t even recognise yourself. you are twisted and depraved and oh-so sick in the head. you are broken in ways you don’t even know.

you try to deny it at first, try to resist with every shaky breath that you do this for the greater good. but you know, deep down, you know that this is what you are: a monster masquerading as a human. you have as much heart as the corpse on your operating table with the empty chest.

you try to find some semblance of yourself on the broken pieces of the vanity mirror scattered around you. but you can truly see your twisted visage on the abnormal reflections. it was as if a sculptor had chipped away at you to add all the cruelty of the world and none of its gentleness.

you were made of jagged edges and sharp thorns. made to admire, not to love.

#damn MC is going through it #chapter 3 sneak peek from my notes hehe 👀 #let’s just say that they need to be locked up in a psych ward ASAP #also shoutout to my NPC victim (don’t have a name for him yet) for just chilling on the ‘operating table’ while MC has a mental crisis #appreciate his undying patience fr #what lovely bones #ch: the killer #interactive fiction #interactive story #progress update #kind of?

[ohbo-ohno]

so to preface this, I have absolutely no interest in asylum/doctor AUs with Ghoap and/or Ghoap X Reader because my trauma stems from a psych ward. But, I do have some potential tidbits of knowledge you could use to write such a thing for anyone interested!

-the food at the psych ward I was in was uniquely terrible, so much so that their main complaint on Google Reviews was about patients getting food poisoning. This could be leveraged by Ghost to spike Johnny and/or Reader’s food with something, hiding the effects behind the usual ‘yeah the food sucks, just grit your teeth’ the other patients give.

-the main memory I have of the ward I was in was a therapy circle I did with a bunch of other patients. After explaining why I was placed there, all of them told me it was my own fault. I don’t think I need to spell out the delicious gaslighting potential this has for Johnny or a Reader. Maybe both of them are patients but Johnny is in cahoots with Ghost, and the two of them are working together to coax Reader into doing what they want?

-The inpatient people were kept on a separate floor. The fifth floor iirc. We never saw them, but one of my friends at the time spent over a month in inpatient and had absolutely nightmarish stories about it. Being locked down there, potentially including things like straitjackets or padded cells, would be a great way to torment and break a Reader or even Johnny.

-I was 12 going on 13 when I was sent to the ward, and they put me in a group of people at least twice my age. These individuals were actually dangerous to themselves and others. One good way to keep a Reader nice and dependent on Johnny and Ghost for protection would be doing the same, putting her in a group where she feels unsafe and alienated. Bonus points if one of said group tries to hurt her and Ghoap get to swoop in and save the day.

That’s pretty much all I had to say, thinking about the event too much gives me a migraine lol. Just wanted to offer up some writing fodder for anyone who wants it! Consider me tossing bits of bread and corn off the dock for the guppies of the lake to feast upon at their leisure

Oh my god you are a fucking Saint

#a good friend of mine was locked up in a psych ward for a bit once #and GOD the stories she has… those places are fucking terrifying #kudos to you for surviving and getting better anon #wishing you all the best in your recovery #asks and answers

[chaotic-orphan]

Intoxicating Fear (Xiii)

Family Time

Continued from // Masterpost

*~*~*~*~*

Kit’s palms were sweating as he walked into the hospital, stopping at the reception desk and smiling at the receptionist, Heather. She smiled with her painted red lips when she saw Kit. It shouldn’t have made him nauseous, Heather always had red lipstick on and it suited her. She was very pretty with her blonde hair and big blue eyes and red lips, but it just reminded him now of Ambrose.

“Hey Kit, you goin’ up to your old man?”

“Yeah, if that’s okay.”

“Of course, doll. Go right ahead.”

Kit thanked her and walked on to the stairs. He needed the stairs to give him the time to gather his thoughts. What was he going to say? How was he going talk to him after knowing exactly what Ambrose was like? When he knew exactly what Omen was capable of… and Kit was getting off light.

His mind was still somewhat in tact. How was he supposed to look at him, the man that took Kit into his house and raised him, and know that he had been spared?

The guilt bloomed like tar in his gut; pitch black, oozing and heavy. Fuck, his hands were shaking. What if his powers flared up when he was in there? He couldn’t control his red lightning that Ambrose kept bringing out in him… and it only happened when he was… well, angry, but —

Fuck.

Kit paused on the final step to Mentor’s floor. How much of himself would he see in Mentor now? How much suffering? Would he recognise the commands that Ambrose plagued his mind with?

It didn’t matter.

That was the thought that forced him up the final step and down the hallway to the psych ward. It didn’t matter what he thought or what he would see or face, because it was Mentor. If the roles were reversed, Kit knows that Mentor would be in here to see him— every single day, not every week.

The power-proofed psych ward was on the basement floor so if patients wanted to jump out of windows they could do it with minimal damage to themselves or others.

Kit hated walking up to the doors and pressing the button to be buzzed in. Hated how he knew that even if somehow Mentor got better miraculously, he wouldn’t be able to get out himself and come home.

Kit hadn’t been to Mentor’s house since the docks either, he should probably pay it a visit, put on the heat. The thoughts of the empty house getting damp and lonely… well, Kit just knew that mentor wouldn’t want that.

The door buzzed and Kit pushed it open. He walked down the hall, took a right at the nurses station and then stopped at the last door on the left. It was opened, so was his window. Mentor sat in his armchair staring at the birds as they sang a happy tune.

Kit paused at the door, just watching Mentor as he hummed softly back to the birds. He looked peaceful, wearing his favourite maroon sweater that Kit had gotten him one Christmas and his blue and red chequered pyjama bottoms.

Kit swallowed and stepped into the room, but where before Mentor would have noticed him lingering in the doorway, he didn’t even turn his head as Kit walked into the room and sat on the edge of his bed.

“Mentor,” said Kit softly. The corner of Mentor’s lips quipped up into a small smile at Kit’s voice, and Kit wanted to cry. He caught him on one of his rare good days. “How are you doing?”

“The birds are singing, Kit,” Mentor replied, his gaze dreamy. “The sun is shining. You’re here. I’m somewhat lucid.”

He turned his head to Kit, his warm blue eyes smiling. “I think I’m doing pretty great.”

Kit couldn’t help himself. It wasn’t a conscious thought, but he had crossed the short distance between the bed and Mentor’s chair to throw his arms around his— his family. He wanted so badly to tell him everything that had happened. Why he hasn’t visited in the last three months. Explain everything, tell him he knew what Mentor was going through because he was going through it too.

He settled for Mentor’s arms wrapping around him in their strong warm embrace, not at all cold like Ambrose.

“Hey kiddo, it’s okay.”

“I just…” the words choked on the way out, so Kit just squeezed Mentor tighter. “I miss you so much.”

“It’s alright. You’re here now, it’s all that matters isn’t it? Right now. We don’t have long before some nurse will give out to me for having visitors eh?” Kit laughed despite himself and pulled away from Mentor, nodding. Mentor didn’t let Kit’s arm go, he gave it a small, reassuring squeeze. “So we need to catch up on everything important, right?”

Kit nodded, his heart overwhelmed with joy. “Yeah.”

“Go on, sit down,” said Mentor, gesturing to the bed and Kit obeyed.

Mentor leaned forward and clasped his hands together, dropping them between his knees and fixing his features into a more sombre expression. Kit had the sudden feeling that Mentor somehow knew about Ambrose and his whole tragic ordeal, but then something glimmered in his eyes — an old familiar mischief that Superhero said Kit inherited from Mentor.

“Who’s top of the premier league? What have I missed? What about the rugby, and your car guys— what’re they called?”

“Formula one?” Kit asked with a startled laugh. He forgot he could be happy, but Kit wasn’t thinking about anything other than how good he felt.

“Yeah! Formula one, Ferrari and all them. I need all the updates because they only have the shit channels in here, and none of them are sports.”

Kit laughed again before he descended into a recap of all the sports developments he could think of recently. Well, almost recently if he discounted the last three month gap in his knowledge.

From sports they went onto movies, from movies they talked about the house and Kit’s apartment and then Mentor asked: “and how about work? Are you still in the Hero business?”

Kit could feel his smile fade at the question. That was the question of the hour was the it? Was he still a Hero? Could he even be considered one anymore?

He ignored the quiet voice in his head that asked: did he even want to be one anymore?

Instead Kit skirted around the issue. He told Mentor that Superhero had taken over as the new Superhero, that Kit worked closely with him. “Oh yeah. I always liked Superhero. He’s a nice guy, good moral compass.”

Kit told him that they were still hunting down Omen and Mentor’s eyes narrowed into points as sharp as daggers. “No.”

Kit blinked. “What?”

“No,” Mentor repeated. He got out of his chair and he walked towards Kit, grabbing both of Kit’s hands and squeezing them before kneeling in front of Kit. Kit stared down, his eyes as wide as saucers. “Kit promise me! Promise me you won’t go near that man.”

“Mento—”

“Kit!” Mentor cut in, his voice urgent, his eyes pleading with all his soul. “Promise me! You’ll stay miles away from him. He is only pain. I spent twenty years in the Hero business and I had never met a monster before him, Kit. You promise me!”

“I—”

“Promise me!”

“I promise,” Kit whispered. He didn’t mean for it to come out so quietly, but the urgency that Mentor was speaking with— Kit couldn’t say no to him. Not when he was like this. Tension released from Mentor’s shoulders as he let out a sigh, squeezing Kit’s hands again before letting them go and getting to his feet.

He put a hand in Kit’s hair and Kit froze, remembering cold fingers yanking his head up — but no! This was Mentor, not Ambrose. Mentor ruffled his hair affectionately in the same way he used to when he first met Kit and then withdrew his hand.

“You’re a good kid, Kit.”

Kit scoffed as he got to his feet. “Kid? Reckon I could still take you old man.”

Mentor’s eyes lit up with that glimmering mischief that Kit missed so much. “Oh yeah? Think you’re a tough guy now?”

“Tough enough to knock you on your arse.”

Mentor hummed like a monk, bringing his hands together in a pray before moving into a kung-fu pose, palm stretched out in front of him raised towards the ceiling. “You have much yet to learn, young Padawan.”

When Mentor flexed his fingers for Kit to give him his best shot, Kit smiled softly and walked towards him, finally wrapping his arms around Mentor instead. Mentor stiffened initially then relaxed and enveloped Kit in his warmth. “Hey Kid. It’s okay.”

It wasn’t fair, none of this was fair. Mentor wasn’t old enough to be retired, he was only… what? Late thirties? Early forties? He shouldn’t be here in this fucking psych ward, he should be at home with Kit. He should still be the number one hero. He should… he should have his own mind back. If it wasn’t for Ambrose, Mentor could still have his life!

“Hey… hey! Hey!” Mentor started shouting and Kit let go of him, stepping away. Mentor’s face contorted into fear and anger and disgust as he backed up to the wall, gasping. “Hey! What?! What did you do to me?”

Kit’s eyebrows knitted down into pained expression. “Mentor I—”

That was all Kit got out before Mentor was on him. Mentor grabbed Kit by his t-shirt and slammed him back against the wall, knocking the air from his lungs with a harsh hiss. “Mentor!”

Mentor’s fists curled in tight to Kit’s shirt, knuckles digging into Kit’s collarbone painfully. “What did you do to me! Huh! Make it stop! Make them stop!”

Mentor yanked Kit forward and shoved him back harder against the wall. Kit stared with wide eyes, frozen in shock. Mentor… he had never seen Mentor this bad before, where he didn’t even recognise him.

The screaming had alerted some nurses that came running into the room, yelling Mentor’s name.

“You ruined me!” Mentor wailed as nurses put their arms on him and tried to get him off Kit. “You ruined me! You destroyed me!”

“I—” Kit began but cut himself off, no words ready to flow from his lips in his defence.

“Mentor we need you to calm down and let go of Kit,” one of the nurses said.

Mentor shook his head, angry tears bubbling up on the side of his eyes. “You have some nerve showing up here, Omen. I would recognise you anywhere.”

“What?” Kit asked, breathless. His voice coming out so broken, choked. The nurses grabbed Mentor’s wrists and pried him off of Kit.

“Kit, you have to go. I’m sorry.”

“I—”

“Kit, I know it’s very distressing but please.”

He didn’t even look for the nurse who asked him to go. He just left in a stupor.

“Monster! Monster! You’re letting him go! I’LL FIND YOU ONE DAY, OMEN!” Mentor screamed, his voice echoing down the hall all the way to Kit’s ears. Kit flinched at the horrid sound of it, too broken and crazed and angry. “MONSTER! MONSTER! YOU’RE LETTING HIM GO!”

Kit flinched as a hand hit his shoulder. “Oh sorry, Kit.”

Kit turned to face a nurse who had a sad, pitying smile on her face. He was a little numb to it, he didn’t even smile back. “I just want to say he does that with us all,” he said kindly. “He calls us all Omen, and I know it must be shocking to hear it.”

Kit cleared the lump in his throat. “How… uh, how is he?”

“His lucid moments are getting longer, stronger, he remembers more.”

“And these moments?”

The pity in the nurse’s eyes said it all. “Longer, stronger, he’s… well, you saw him.”

Kit nodded because he didn’t trust his voice to speak. He gestured to the door, and cleared his throat and the Nurse nodded. “Yeah, I’ll let you go. Just… just don’t ruminate on it, Kit. That’s not him, that’s not the Mentor you know.”

Yeah, Kit thought, and even his thoughts sounded heartbroken to his ears. I know.

That was the real cruelty of what Ambrose did to Mentor. He took away everything that was Mentor, that made him the number one Hero, a father figure, an older brother. Omen sucked all his goodness out and replaced it with his own sick poison to try and diminish Mentor to nothing but a raving lunatic that had to be locked in a psych ward for his own safety.

When he walked out into the fresh air, Kit threw up in the nearest bin because: that could have been him. Ambrose could any day decide that he’s bored of Kit and then melt his mind like he did to Mentor, he could do it with a simple thought. Destroy him…

No, the nurse was right. Mentor isn’t gone. He isn’t destroyed, Ambrose missed that part even though it’s probably what he wanted. The lucid Mentor Kit hugged and laughed with and grew up with, that was Mentor. Ambrose didn’t destroy Mentor, and he wouldn’t destroy Kit either.

Kit ditched the idea of going back to his shitty apartment where Ambrose was no doubt waiting for him, or possibly waiting for him which was worse.

Kit’s mind went back to the rules and he smirked.

You can’t move apartment.

Ambrose never said anything about moving back home. Technically, Kit wasn’t even moving. He had some clothes back home, he could just relax there for a while. Take a load off. He wasn’t moving anywhere.

He stopped into the shop to grab some groceries before taking the metro back to his real home. Kit and Mentor’s home. It was a nice house, not too big or too small.

Kit remembers when he saw it for the first time, he thought it was huge and too much. The lawn was perfectly mowed, Mentor telling Kit that they would need to plant some flowers or something to cheer it up a little. The hedges around the wall surrounding it made it feel so warm and cosy.

Now the grass was overgrown, the flowers dead, the hedges needed a good chop. Kit frowned as he stared at the house, the stone walls with their big windows that they would throw open in the summer. It was so strange that Mentor wasn’t here with him.

If he was he would rock up beside Kit and pat his back, tell him: “it just needs a bit of work and a bit of love.”

With the drab Autumn weather, the house had an eerie glow to it, like it knew Mentor wasn’t coming home too. That suited him fine, maybe Kit and the house could find some comfort in each other.

He opened the heavy wooden door, the sound of the familiar lock clacking open took, what felt like, a tonne weight off of Kit’s shoulders. It smelled the same way it always did, he couldn’t quite put a name to it, but it smelled like home.

The first thing he needed to do was put on the heat cause fuck it was cold in here. He deposited the groceries on the kitchen island and his keys before waking to the utility room and pressing the heat on.

Please have some heat, please have some heat.

With a click and a whirr the heat came on and Kit silently thanked Mentor and his need to over-prepare for everything, because what if it gets cold in summer. LBetter to have it than want it.

Kit put the groceries away, almost robotically. He wasn’t hungry so he didn’t eat. He clicked the kettle on and grabbed his favourite mug, plopping in four teaspoons of coffee. Then switched the kettle off and left his mug on the countertop.

He turned, crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his lower back against the counter, worrying his bottom lip.

He didn’t really want to do anything.

He didn’t remember what it was like to want something.

Well… he did, he just didn’t— he had wanted to not be in pain. He wanted to not be around Ambrose, but after that? He kind of forgot what it was like to have a life of his own. What it was like to live before Ambrose had taken him and tortured him.

He—

He rolled his eyes and let out an audible, frustrated groan. He should go to bed, or, catch up on all the sports he missed. At least then when he saw Mentor again he would be able to tell him about the most recent updates instead of months old information.

Kit walked to the living room and settled down into his favourite seat on the sofa, fighting everything in him not to glance over to Mentor’s empty seat. It’s not like ignoring the seat made him feel any better, he still had that aching, gnawing in his chest that made everything feel a little wrong. A little off.

His phone buzzed in his pocket while he was flipping mindlessly through the sports channels, none of the programs catching his interest or attention at all. Did he really used to watch TV for fun? He could always look up the results or whatever, but it wasn’t really the same. He pulled out his phone, and stared down at the lock screen.

A text from Ambrose lit up the screen. Two simple words, that filled Kit with an unreasonable amount of anger. It hadn’t even been a day yet without the bastard there to torment him. He couldn’t even go a day without gloating.

Ambrose: Miss me yet? :)

Kit turned his phone off. It was dramatic, but it made him feel a little better. As if Kit was the one in control and not the other way around. Kit sighed and threw the phone onto the couch, leaving it there as he turned on off the TV and stood.

Today was just… too much of everything and anything and maybe, just maybe, if he slept tomorrow when he woke up he’d feel a little less like a zombie. A little more human. The idea pushed him towards his bedroom, ascending the stairs with heavy feet.

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

Orphanage roll-call (lmk if you wanna be added or removed): @beatenbruisedandbloody @404lunar1216 @whumpyworld @nameless-beanie @andithewhumper r @annablogsposts @whumpasaurus101 @0eggdealer @rejectedbytheempty @sleepy-pearl @n3rv0usn0v4 @whumpatize-me-captain @sunshiline-writes @burningkittypoet @honeyed-euphrates @sacredwrath @theonewithallthefixations @acer-gaysimpstuff @m3rakii @xxgalgurlxx @princess-bubble-blossom @blood-enthusiast t @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @andtheysaidspeaknoww @dutifullykrispyland @mononeigbour

#intoxicating fear #intoxicating #fear #whump series #whump writing #whump story #psych ward #emotional whump #hero villain writing #hero villain snippet #hero villain story #hero #writing #villain #hero whumpee #villain whumper #intelligent villain #sadistic villain #intelligent whumper #cruel whumper #sadistic whumper #traumatised whumpee #mind corruption #mind control #tw psych ward #exhausted hero #tired hero #creative writing #writeblr

[lesbianangeldust]

tonights episode of me and my gf are huskerdust irl: the night me we got to know eachother properly for the first time was at a party where neither of us knew anyone, so we ended up sticking together. there was an abandoned card game on the coffee table, and she was like, hey, I can do magic, wanna see? so she nicked a few cards and we went and sat out on the balcony that overlooked the car park and she showed me a some card tricks! we ended up talking out there most of the night, I got absolutely smashed and ended up lore dropping some deeply traumatic shit, all in all it was a very eventful night and deeply huskerdust coded in my humble opinion

#more from this particular night: towards the beginning i made her sing nicki minaj starships with me. i still have the video #after she left i went to macdonalds with some ppl and ended up pissing myself IN a toilet cubicle cuz i couldnt get my tights down #in my defense i was fresh outta the psych ward #which reminds me of another funny moment from when we met lol #the moral of the story: sometimes when people try to impress u with magic tricks theyre worth hearing out #my posts #huskerdust #hazbin hotel

[cistematicchaos]

If anyone has resources on voluntarily institutionalization, what rights you have in psych wards and what to expect/how to prepare for committing yourself, pls share, I'm kind of lost rn and really need help.

#mad punk #cripple punk #disability #psych wards #institutionalization #chaos is speaking #/\ like really need help #i don't care if youre sharing personal stories #or articles #or other tumblr posts #i just really need to figure this out #actually disabled #actually mentally ill #feel free to reblog that might help tbh

[lovelyamneris]

I’m going to start a Rufus lives AU even though I already have a million unfinished WIPs haha

#rufus lives and is captured by victor who puts him in the psych ward at the local hospital #so then a few of them visit him with questions post s2 pre s3 #and then s3 happens #and the sinner story line #and KT who only knows like the tiniest bit about him from fabian decides to ask for his help when the sinner stuff goes down #she knows he can’t be a sinner because he’s literally committed #but she doesn’t know he’s evil 😈 idk lmao #he might help her with the sinner problem because the world ending or whatever Ammut had planned does not vibe with what he wants #but obviously he’ll be scheming and stuff as well #we’ll see #house of anubis

[tatatatatara]

Me reading PSYB to pick up the headcanons that tg-hcs has posted on tumblr

#*leonardo dicaprio pointing meme* i recognize that reference!! #oh its such a fun walk through the story thank you *laying on a stretcher and getting carried in to the local psych ward* #psyb

[ganja-hq]

When I was 17 I started making a rope out of embroidery thread to hang myself with on my 18th birthday. I would spend hours braiding and felting, it was a very pretty rope. Forgot about the whole thing about a week later and didn't remember until today.

#ganja's diary #once again no point to this story #my adhd has kept me alive all thse years #probably would've stayed dead if i had actually read the whole article on zyprexa poisoning #probably also would've stayed dead if i had thought for two seconds before hanging myself where the psych ward cameras could see me #cant even kill myself right smh

[kindheart525]

WARNING: Psychiatric Ward

~~~~~~~~~~

This visit was long, long overdue. Tempest Shadow was finally going to introduce her mother to her family, to reunite with her herself after all these years. She should have been thrilled to see her mother. Why was she so scared?

As she led her wife and daughter into the ward, she began to realize why Snowcone was so terrified of going in. The atmosphere was cold and bright, a stale sanitary scent hanging in the air. The toothpaste-green walls and stark lack of decor made for an unsettlingly open environment, yet somehow also claustrophobic. It made her stomach turn.

She couldn’t imagine being here even a day. And this was where her mother had been for decades? 

Tempest gave the receptionist her mother’s forms and arranged the visit all with a dry mouth, her mind elsewhere the whole time. Her time in the waiting room was only a few minutes but it felt like hours. 

What was this going to be like? Would her mother even be the same? Would it be worth it for Snowcone? For Tempest herself?

An assistant finally poked her head out of a door, calling out a name.

“Queen Consort Tempest Shadow?”

“Here.”

Tempest croaked out, motioning for Snowcone to follow her. She looked over to her wife for reassurance.

“I’ll wait out here. Give you some time.”

Twilight brushed her wings over both of them comfortingly, whispering words of encouragement as she sent them off after the assistant.

They were led down a few halls, each one as cold and soulless as the last. Snowy pressed herself up against her mother in fear, but Tempest was scared too.

Then they entered a cafeteria. It was big and cold, populated by ward staff and patients but none of their faces registered to Tempest as she scanned the room.

Then she saw her.

Snowcone was so terrified of this place that even though her mothers had promised she wasn't going to stay here, she had a paranoid fear at the back of her mind. 

That this place would envelop her into it. That she would end up cold and dull and a shell of herself too.

She really did want to meet her Nana, she swore up and down that she did.

But when Snowcone laid her eyes on her, her stomach dropped. 

Raspberry Sorbet was sitting alone, drawing invisible circles on the table with her hooves. 

It was clear she was just as nervous as they were but there was a ghostly pallor about her, a layer of separation that made her seem almost non-equine.

She looked up and saw them, all three mares making eye contact. She was the first to croak. 

"FizzyBerry? My baby filly? Is that you little one?"

Tempest’s stomach dropped too upon seeing her, she actually knew her mother and she could tell that she was barely herself. She was older, grayer, more distant. But hearing her old nickname uttered again was all she needed to know her mother was still there.

A lump instantly formed in her throat as she responded.

“Y-yes Mom, it’s me.”

She gestured towards Snowcone.

“And this is my daughter, Snowcone Syrup. Your...granddaughter. I thought...you two should meet.”

She tried to be formal in her introductions without letting her own feelings get in the way.

Snowcone smiled a bit as she heard what could only be her mother’s childhood nickname. It was a genuine, non-forced smile.

She wasn't dumb, she was scared but she had eyes.

A frightened mare with a broken filly in her heart and an old horse who was clearly not herself didn't need a stubborn filly on top of all of it. 

Raspberry noticed this and looked around, almost like she would get in trouble for...whatever she was planning. 

She pulled Snowcone in like she had seen her every day since the day she was born and kissed the top of her head. Her movements were as slow as a sloth. 

"An earth pony like her Nana Raz, so beautiful. Like a blueberry pie!”

Snowcone looked to Tempest with a look of embarrassment on her face but she leaned into the hug. 

"Mother has really missed you Nana..."

“I really have.”

Tempest affirmed, honestly and truthfully, a million memories of a motherless childhood coming back to her. The lump in her throat grew even bigger.

“There hasn’t been a day where I didn’t think of you. Where I didn’t wonder what had become of you. All these years I thought you were gone...completely gone.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, which she tried desperately to hide by tilting her face upwards. But her shaking voice gave her away.

“I only found out...you were here...after Father died. That was a few years ago. I was too cowardly to visit, to see what he did to you. It’s one of the many, many things I will forever regret, and I...”

She couldn’t take it anymore, a flood of sobs escaped her as she crumbled into her mother’s lap.

“I’m so sorry!”

She gripped onto her desperately as she cried, like if she let go she’d lose her again.

Snowcone stepped back, backing up far enough to give them space but close enough for her to still hear. 

Raz watched her walk back like she was the most beautiful thing in Equestria. She had done something good. Two things. And they were right here. 

Her expression changed from a smile to one of contemplation as her Fizzy began to approach. 

She had never spoken to Raz like this. What did she mean by “completely gone,” what had happened? Why was Fizzy so...shaken? 

HIM. 

Everything clicked into place when she mentioned her father. He told her she was dead. That sick old stallion wasn't right in the head. He had done this to all of them. 

"Fizzlepop Berrytwist, you shut your mouth!"

She snapped, but realized how that came across as soon as it left her lips. So she continued. 

"You are not a coward. No Berrytwist has ever been a coward. You were a little filly, you couldn't have known. This will never be your fault. I would die a thousand deaths before I ever let somepony make you feel that way again."

Raz held onto Tempest even harder, soon joined by Snowcone who had fallen into shambles. The three of them cried together, as they did gentle sparks emitted from Tempest’s horn. Sparkles seemed to come from Raz and Snowcone too though it was anypony’s guess how. 

Nopony, no stallion, was ever going to come between them again.

~~~~~~~~~~

Previous: Trip Next: What She Needs

#KindsArt #auraverse #live wire #raspberry sorbet #tempest shadow #fizzlepop berrytwist #snowcone syrup #story piece #next generation #my little pony #mlp fim #mlp g4 #tw psych ward