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tobisiksi · 1 month

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tw: suicide mention-emotional maipulation

I refuse to believe that kusuo never tried to lose on purpose in one of kusukes games

a lot of people say that he probably was too egocentric to lose but man, ku gives up on things without thinking twice just for the sake of the others

just like when he gave up on satou when he and hii got together (the only example I can come with rn but there is a lot more)

and don't get me wrong, kusuo IS egocentric, but he knows where to trace a line he has a moral code and the principal rule is "don't be an inconvenience to the others"

so there is no way he didn't tried before

kusuke saw through his facade?

kusuke is insane and a masoquist and he has some suicidal behaviour aaand

I can see him telling kusuo to never try to fake a lost again or else he will off himself

idk he just yk, he's emotionally abusive and he's too obsessed with the idea of kusuo and him playing deathly games

TOO obsessed

he even took himself as hostage and he also kidnapped and brainwashed one of his brothers friends

he would say something like that

but I also believe that he wasn't aware of the heigh of those words

(I believe that he isn't aware of the heigh of all his actions, he just have a really twisted view of what is wrong and right)

I see this kind of scenario happening when they were young, when kusuo stopped copying his older brother (the motorcycle, the little cardboard robot, rock papper scissors, guys he was copying his older brother cuz he thought he was cool) and started to feel some resentment or even pity towards him

kusuke wouldn't take pityness very well, resentment? dont care, being hated? kay whatever but feeling any form of empathy or pity?????

it makes him sick

so he would say something like that but the thing is that he sees his brother as a God who is superior to every other living being

so he thinks that it isn't a big deal because his God had more important things to take care of

wrooooong, your God it's your baby bro who is just a child who used to admire you a lot before you started to get more and more insane progressively and the thing you just said it's fucking up his head because the love and hate he has for you were the strongest feelings his baby brain could feel and now he cannot come up with a way to make you stop envying or feeling resentful cuz of his powers (that he did not choose to born with in the first place) without making you have a meltdown that will end up with you killing yourself

#its 6am and im having a lot of feelings #sorry if there is something that doesnt make sense i repeat its 6am #im still without wifi and i cant waste the eeeee #idk how are they called in english but in spanish is datos móviles #lmao #anyway i dont have anything else to say im just emotional about this two #kusuke having no idea of what its wrong and right and how much certain words could affect the others yaaay #its the autism combined with his sociopath tendencies #also here he seems like he doesnt care at all abt kusuo but he does #its just a toxic way of love combined with his envy and again his sociopath tendencies #but he do love him and admire him so much #envy its just a twisted form of admiration afterall #saiki k #saiki kusuo #kusuke saiki #saiki's brothers #angst #the disastrous life of saiki k #saiki kusuo no psi nan #tw su mention #thinking thinking thinking

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constantcrisis19 · 9 months

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Bleeding Out - Part 3

Simon "Ghost" Riley x GN S/O

Main Page

Warnings: Blood and injury, Needles, Violent thoughts, References to Ghost's backstory.

Ghost grit his teeth when you went limp against his back, his desperate grip on your thighs tightening in a way that would have been painful for you if you weren't currently conscious. He pushed into the medical tent like a man on a mission, ignoring the various moans and cries of suffering soldiers and shoving past anyone who didn’t get out of his way fast enough.

He gently lowered you down onto one of the open beds, your sweaty hair falling into your face as your head lolled to the side, Ghost reaching out in a brief moment of weakness to brush the limp lock of hair out of your face before turning his attention to the wound on your thigh.

The neck gaiter that he had tied in place over the injury was stained a deep red, the cloying scent of iron so thick that Ghost could practically taste it even through the thick fabric of his balaclava as he peeled the sticky soaked cloth away from the wound in order to get a look at the damage.

He felt grateful for his mask since he couldn’t help how his face twisted up into a snarl at the frankly obscene amount of blood that had oozed into your clothing, soaking your right side all the way down your pant leg to your boots, staining the material a deep crimson.

One of Ghost’s hands released his hold that he had on the cloth that he’d wrapped around your thigh in favor of grabbing the wrist of the person that had made the mistake of touching his arm, his grip so tight that he could feel the bones grind together under his fingers.

“Uh… sir? I’m here to help, what’s the situation?” A soft voice abruptly broke through the rush of blood ringing in Ghost’s ears and he was unceremoniously dragged from whatever haze he’d fallen into, causing him to violently snap back into focus.

He managed to pry his dark gaze away from your sallow figure, bringing his attention to the person who had been brave enough to approach him, the wide green eyes of a medic warily watching him as if he were a feral animal.

Ghost let go of the medic’s wrist as if the touch had burned him and he curled his fingers into a fist in order to hide the way that they wanted to tremble and, in an attempt to distract himself from the panic he could feel lingering on the edge of his awareness, he turned his attention back to the saturated fabric that was plastered to your leg.

“Deep laceration on upper left thigh from a bullet. They were conscious and verbal about two minutes ago before they began showing signs of hypovolemic shock and became unresponsive.” Ghost replied in rapid fire as he pressed down on the wound, continuing to apply steady pressure and trying to ignore how your unnatural lack of reaction to the painful contact made him want to hit something.

“Okay. Elevate their legs and keep applying direct pressure to the wound. We have a category one! I need a suture kit and an IV, stat!” The second half of the medic’s commands were directed to the rest of the staff that were bustling about the packed tent, more medics hurrying over with the necessary supplies, and it took every ounce of self control Ghost had to keep from taking a swing every time someone accidentally brushed up against him in their rush.

“Blood pressure is dropping, start them on two liters of LR.” The green eyed medic warned as someone set up an intravenous drip, pushing the needle into the tender skin of your right arm before taping the tube down to keep it in place.

More people joined the fray and Ghost viciously repressed the urge to bury one of his knives deep into the eye socket of the medic that bullied him out of the way since he knew that it wouldn’t do him any good in the long run, so he stepped away and allowed the other man to take over, the medic cutting your pant leg away from your thigh and pulling the unsalvageable neck gaiter away, letting it hit the floor with a wet sound before replacing it with a sterile pad of gauze.

Ghost just stood there and watched in complete silence as the medical team surrounding the cot all frantically tried to keep you alive, all their voices blurring together into a cacophony of indecipherable noise as the feeling of something wet dripping down his side distantly registered.

He looked down at himself and swallowed back bile at the sight that greeted him. The majority of Ghost's right side and thigh had been stained by your blood due to the fact that he’d carried you for so long, the thick red liquid marring his already filthy fatigues.

He numbly tracked a drop of crimson with his eyes as it slowly oozed down from his hip to his thigh before being soaked up by the fabric near his knee, the sensation of blood creeping down his leg making his skin crawl.

Ghost’s gaze snapped up from his soiled fatigues when someone came up next to him, his eyes darting over to the medic that had been brave enough to approach him, their hand hovering over his shoulder for a moment before thinking better of touching him and dropping their limb back to their side.

“We have the situation under control now, but we’re already running low on space so we need you to wait outside the tent, sir.” The medic spoke softly, the woman hovering in a way that spelled out her desire to usher him out of the medical tent, but he didn't move. Ghost’s feet were rooted to the spot, medics and patients alike all moving around his still figure as if he were a shark in the water.

“No.” Ghost declared bluntly as he turned his attention back to the crowd swarming the cot that you were laying on, noticing how the medic shot him a startled look out his peripheral vision, but he didn’t care. Let her judge him, let her question his intentions. Let her think what she wanted, but he wasn’t going to move until he got confirmation of either your recovery or your death.

And the poor soul who drew the short straw and was tasked to give Ghost the news better pray to whatever God that they believed in that it was the former.

“I’m sorry?” The medic asked, their incredulousness battling with their self-preservation in the face of Ghost’s blatant refusal to be separated from you. Ghost turned his head just enough to make eye contact with the medic standing next to him, the rest of his body eerily still in a way he knew other people found off-putting as he leveled the medic with his signature cold stare.

“I’m not leaving until they're either stable or dead.” Ghost declared, his tone leaving no room for argument, but the medic he was talking to was either an idiot or was unaware of Ghost’s reputation because she stubbornly persisted.

“But-” She began to say before Ghost unceremoniously cut her off.

“How’s their condition?" He asked, his voice low and rough. He could feel the cooling, sticky blood oozing between his gloved fingers as his hands clenched and released reflexively, his fingertips tingling as he wished for the familiar weight of his rifle.

“Uh, it's still too early to tell…” The medic began hesitantly before sighing, seeming to reluctantly accept the fact that Ghost wasn’t going to be leaving anytime soon. "But we're doing everything in our power to help." She told Ghost with a worried frown, her concerned gaze like a physical weight, her unwelcome sympathy causing Ghost to glance away before he did something that would make Price give him that disappointed look in order to wipe that fucking annoying look off the young woman’s face. "Do you know them? Are the two of you close?"

The question caught him off guard and helped clear some of the red from his vision, Ghost’s dark eyes shifting back over to the cot he had deposited you on as if magnetized, his gaze visibly softening from his usual blank stare when he caught a glimpse of your familiar figure in a gap between the medics swarming you.

Ghost watched as personnel read off stats from the various machines that you were hooked up to, each announcement so bogged down with medical jargon that Ghost could only pick up on a few terms here and there as they worked to keep the area around the wound clean as it was meticulously stitched shut.

"...yes." He admitted quietly and, while Ghost wasn't exactly thrilled with telling some random medic about his attachment to you -in fact, he would rather go through several hours of torture over voluntarily being emotionally vulnerable- it was a necessary risk he had to take if he wanted to appeal to the women's sentimental side and gain more leniency when it came to being kept in the loop about you during your stay in medical. “Are they…? Will they pull through?”

The medic opened her mouth to reply but was unceremoniously cut off when the people that were crowding around your cot burst into a flurry of movement, the medics shouting to each other as they all scrambled for medical supplies. And while it may have looked chaotic, it was clear that there was in fact a method to the madness.

"We have a shortage of A+ and O- reserves. We’re going to need to perform a direct donor-to-patient transfusion if we have a chance of bringing them out of critical condition." A random voice that Ghost didn’t recognize called out just loud enough to carry over to where he was standing, and Ghost's blood ran cold.

"What blood type are you?" The medic next to him suddenly asked, sounding equal parts frantic and determined, her tone pulling his dull eyes away from the medics crowding around the cot that you were laying on to her. Her eyes were wide as she stared expectantly up at him, Ghost eyes widening as he caught onto what she was implying.

"I’m A+." Ghost replied immediately, already rolling up his sleeves to reveal his pale skin, his body moving before his mind even caught up with what he was doing, his feet taking him toward you and subsequently all the medical personnel that were currently treating you.

"We have a compatible donor!" The medic trailing behind Ghost yelled to be heard over the commotion as she followed him, easily keeping up with the rapid pace he’d set. It didn’t take long for him to be surrounded, Ghost ignoring how each unsolicited touch reminded him of the smell of petrichor and rot, the telltale squirming of maggots against his skin, and instead stubbornly kept his gaze locked onto your sallow face now that he was close enough to see you.

"We're doing an emergency transfusion." A male said as he rushed over to the pair, giving the female medic at Ghost’s side a needle and a tube while another medic simultaneously rolled up his left sleeve and wrapped a tourniquet around his bicep before tapping his inner elbow with two fingers in order to find a vein.

“Sir, have you had any unprotected sex in the last six months? Or have any blood-transmitted diseases we need to know about?" The male asked as he wiped down a patch of skin before pushing the hollow needle into Ghost's vein, almost as if he already knew that Ghost was clean and was just asking because it was protocol… so it seemed that his reputation proceeded him.

"No. None." He replied, holding eerily still and watching with keen eyes as medics prepped the major arteries in your arm, connecting you up to Ghost on the other side of the tubing.

Ghost felt an odd tugging sensation in his arms as the transfusion began, glancing away from you for the first time since he’d walked over and down at the tubing just in time to see blood so dark that it almost looked black being pulled out of his veins and down the tube, lazily making its way towards your own arm.

"Here, take a seat." The female medic from earlier said as she reached for his arm, Ghost jerking away from the threat of her touch and causing her to pull her hand away, the woman intelligently choosing to instead gesture to the unoccupied chair at your bedside that someone had dragged over. "Let us know if you start to get dizzy or feel nauseous, alright?" She asked as he obediently sat down, her kind eyes a stark contrast to the usual distant and clinical gazes he'd get from most medical personnel who worked for the military.

Ghost gave her a single, succinct nod in lieu of a verbal reply and turned his attention back to the blood that was traveling through the tubing, his free hand loosely wrapping around the arm of the plastic chair that he’d claimed.

“The blood is dark.” He said suddenly as she began to step away, halting her in her tracks before she once again turned to face him, what was originally meant to be a question coming out more like a statement because of the cold numbness that was spreading from his chest and Ghost fingers subconsciously tightened on the unforgiving arm of the chair, his grip now more of an attempt at grounding himself than anything else.

When Ghost managed to pry his gaze away from you, he noted that the medic looked surprised, the shock only lasting a few seconds before she seemed to some conclusion or another and her features softened into sympathy and understanding. She clasped her hands in front of her and gave him a soft, reassuring smile as she patiently explained the phenomenon to him.

"Oh. It's perfectly safe. What you're most likely used to seeing is the bright red blood, yes?" She asked and Ghost was begrudgingly impressed with her ability to maintain steady eye contact with him when there were even some higher ups that he’d had the displeasure of meeting who couldn’t say the same.

He didn’t look away as he nodded, confirming what she’d already suspected and she shot him another gentle smile before continuing. "It's just a chemical reaction with the oxygen in the air that makes it that color but, while it's in your veins, it's actually much darker."

Ghost is the one to break eye contact first, unable to keep looking at her kindhearted expression without wanting to scream at the woman that he doesn’t want her compassion, that she shouldn't waste such a useless emotion on someone like him, who didn't want or need it.

He nodded to make sure that she knew that he’d been paying attention and turned his attention back to you, his hands clenching as he resisted the urge to reach out and take your limp wrist into his own, to measure each sluggish beat of your heart from the source despite the slow beep of the machine next to him.

“Give it to me straight. I want to know if they’ll live.” Ghost said suddenly into the silence that had descended over the two of them and the medic took a deep breath, her lips thinning into a thin line.

"Well, due to your help, they’re odds have just gone up exponentially. They'll probably need a few transfusions though, and you'll need breaks between every one in order to eat, drink and replenish your strength. It's not going to be pleasant for you, but it's doable." She stated softly, her hands unclasping as she paused for a moment in order to seemingly think something over before voicing her thoughts. "Though, you're free to stop giving blood anytime you'd like, I'm just saying there's a better chance that they'll pull through if you do multiple sessions."

“I’ll give whatever it takes.” He admitted quietly, his tone determined and reverent in equal measure as he gave in to the impulse to reach out and lightly brush his calloused fingers over the thin, sensitive skin of your wrist, sliding up your arm to the joint of your elbow where the tubing was taped down before just resting there.

He could never tell the medic the truth about how far he was willing to go for you no matter how nice she seemed because the level of devotion he held for you was something that would scare off any normal person.

He would most likely be stripped of his rank, discharged, and locked up in a padded room with white walls before being drugged up to his eyeballs if he ever confessed to how deep his obsession with you runs.

He would do anything to make sure that you would stay with him. He would destroy cities, tear down governments, kill anyone who got in his way without a second's hesitation.

He would go to the ends of the world to bring you back, so giving you his blood, that he’d already spilled several pints of over the years -enough for him to be dead ten times over- for a violent cause that wasn’t even his, was nothing compared to the atrocities that he’d be willing to commit for you.

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cemitadepollo · 1 year

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@tragicallyphosphorescent

You see, the thing about "sociopaths" it's that they're not real. If you open a psychology book, as you apparently hint to have done at some point, you'll discover that the term you're using isn't only scientifically inaccurate, but an outdated and harmful term used to refer to people with ASPD– Anti-Social Personality Disorder. This cluster B disorder is developed as a coping mechanism by people who suffer from childhood neglect, so people demonize literal abuse survivors for their little "serial killer abuser sociopath" fantasy that they saw in their favorite true crime movie. I would love to know where did you get the objective fact that most "sociopaths" don't seek treatment and hurt people.

Narcissistic Personality Disorder, otherwise known as NPD or just "narcissists", is a disorder that's classified in the cluster B category of personality disorders according to the DSM-V, this disorder is also developed because of childhood neglect. People love to armchair diagnose their abusers with this disorder under the ignorant belief that narcissistic people are selfish and that's it, it's used as an interchangeable term, which couldn't be further from reality. So no, I don't believe in "narcissistic abuse". Abuse is just abuse, an abuser is just an abuser, there's no need to slap anything else alongisde that label.

Just because a manifestation of trauma is different it doesn't mean it's bad. People with ASPD and NPD are as likely to abuse someone as a person without them. Lacking empathy doesn't make someone a bad person, empathy is just the capability to instinctually feel another human's feelings, but it's not the same as sympathy or compassion. A good person is one who's actions do good.

Now, I'm not invalidating the abuse anyone has gone through. If you tell me somebody, anybody, abused you, I believe you. But there's no need to demonize disorders in order to find support or validation.

You can find a free PDF of The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders. 5th edition (DSM-V) easily on the internet, no need to buy the book itself. I suggest you give it a read to clear up that whole "sociopath" thing and to educate yourself more on the narcissistic personality disorder. As a disclaimer, the DSM-V is highly discussed by the neurodivergent community on a regular basis and some individuals, including myself, have a word or two about certain criteria that needs to be met to get a diagnosis, but I'm advising you to read it as a start.

Sincerely, a borderline with fluctuating empathy that's very tired of watching their cluster B siblings get denied treatment and dignity, because in case you didn't know this, lots of us actively seek treatment but get deemed "too hard to treat" or get actively abused by the medic system IF we are even allowed some sort of therapy. As a neurodivergent person, I'd assume you know of the kinds of horrors people like you and me suffer in psych wards, except people with personality disorders and other demonized illnesses still get thrown around and abused since our disorders aren't deemed as "harmless" as people who suffer from depression and anxiety or people with autism.

#ableism #tw narc abuse mention #aspd stigma #tw sociopath slur #s slur #npd stigma #aspd culture is #npd culture is #bpd stigma #bpd culture #cluster b #cluster b disorders #cluster b discussion #neurodiverse stuff #actually cluster b #neurodivergent

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aspd-culture · 7 months

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Do you think people with aspd can feel public. Emotions like (sadness) or (happiness) (love) (potentially other that I can’t think of right now) personally I don’t feel thou emotions.

And it leave me confused on this cuz I heard from people with aspd that do feel this think and some don’t

We can’t feel private emotions like guilt remorse anxiety

But I want to ask you’re opinion on this

So pwASPD can usually feel the full range of emotions, including happiness, sadness, love, hurt, anger, fear, anxiety, shame, excitement, etc. Some have emotions that are more blunted than others (for example, feeling content is a foreign concept to me specifically), but that is an individual thing. Guilt/remorse are the only exceptions to this. PwASPD almost always have either low or no remorse, but that is the outlier. All other emotions are fair game in pwASPD. The more common thing is that we often do not show said emotions, and we have one emotional state that prosocials don't seem to - true neutral. This isn't being content, I do mean entirely neutral, wherein there isn't any dominant emotion at all. Prosocials tend to pick this up as hostility and intense anger, but it isn't.

I need to be very clear, though. This is not the only emotion pwASPD feel, nor is it the one we feel a majority of the time. Just like prosocials, it is one of the many emotions in the range that we can feel.

The concept of pwASPD not having emotions comes from a mix of our tendency to hide strong emotions (which is a very common trauma response) and the stigmatized term (tw) s*ciop*th. That word has often been associated with "someone who feels no emotions but fakes them well enough that you wouldn't know." However, that term basically has no true meaning and is not a medical term at all (nor is psych*p*th) - it's just an extremely stigmatized term that many pwASPD would prefer not to be used entirely. Basically, the root of the idea of pwASPD having no emotions is in the stigma and ableism associated with ASPD by the public, not by any actual psychology research/professional backing.

/neutral /info

I absolutely don't blame you for being confused, though./gen The public's view on ASPD is extremely warped by ableism, and unless you try very hard, it is difficult for prosocials to not have some of that influence their understanding of ASPD.

Plain text below the cut:

/neutral /info

#tw ableist language #tw sociopath #tw psychopath #aspd-culture-is #aspd culture is #aspd culture #actually aspd #aspd #aspd awareness #actually antisocial #antisocial personality disorder #aspd traits #anons welcome

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rainbowroadonsteroids · 1 year

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Hello, my name is uh Mr. Elbertson, I'm going to be your substitute teacher for today, your teacher gave me a lesson plan so we will do that, I'm just about to do attendance too so uh if you hear your name just say here. And also if any of you start calling me Mr. Sus Guy, Mr. Sus, Sus Fring, anything like that, there will be uh serious consequences.

#jerma #jerma985 #tw jerma #are we using the tw jerma tag ironically or unironically #unreality #unreality tw #substitute teacher andy #sociopathic andy

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thatadhdmood · 1 year

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PSA

Cluster b disorders: borderlines, narcissists, avoidants and antisocials, aren't abusive

"Narc abuse" "borderline abuse" "sociopathic abuse" don't exist because a disorder cannot be abusive

Abusive people are abusive the disorder doesn't determine that because most cluster b disorder people would rather kill themselves than hurt someone else

#bpd #cluster b personality disorder #cluster b #personality disorder #cluster b disorders #cluster b awareness #suicide tw #suicide #suicide mention #sociopath #sociopath disorder #narcissistic personality disorder #borderline personality problems #bpd tiktok #mental illness #cluster b tiktok #personality disorder tiktok

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tinymoonrider · 8 months

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Your Worshiper

Summary: Dr. Richardson, the owner of a dental clinic, doesn't like dating clients. He wants to keep things as professional as possible. But sometimes, things don't necessarily go as planned. Warnings: Blood, gore, yandere themes, detailed descriptions of murder/gore/blood/torture, character death, language, background checks without permission, needles, drugging, kidnapping, obsession, watching MC through hidden cameras , restraints, descriptive dental checkup, lying, euphoria from murder/torture, and Dr. Richardson is a psychopath/sociopath.

A/N: First off, thank you for your request! This was very interesting to write. Also, as for the last warning, I did some research and wasn't able to properly categorize him into one or the other. Which is why I did both. Finally, since you didn't include any specific gender for the reader, I made them gender neutral. Hopefully you don't mind. Enjoy! :)

P.S.: This story is about 30 pages long and unfortunately won't fit on the answer. I do apologize and hope that you'll still be able to see it.

As I typed away at my report, my eyes scanned over the documents splayed on my desk. Soft music played from the radio behind me, my foot tapping along to the beat. Printing out the document for filing, Penny swings the door open without knocking. A clipboard in hand, she flashes me a bright smile before skipping over to the chair in front of my desk. She giggles and tosses the clipboard to me. With a sigh, I turn around and turn off the music and quietly flip through the pages. My eyebrows raise at her, my fingers crinkling the forms.

"I told you that I was going to set you up," She taps the clipboard excitedly. I shake my head as I find something else to do on my computer, my eyes refusing to meet hers.

"I don't date clients." She rolls her eyes at me.

"And I don't take bullshit." My eyebrows raise. I watched her carefully as she motioned for me to come and follow her. Grabbing the clipboard, I went out into the lobby, casually looking at them from behind their forms. Outside, two people sat on opposite ends of the room. Both were flipping through magazines while waiting for their turn to be seen.

I looked back over to Penny, who was now sitting behind the front desk, "Which one?" They rolled their eyes and I smiled. "Again, I don't feel comfortable doing such a thing."

"Okay, well, they do need a check up." Penny shoos me away from her, "(Y/n)! Dr. Richardson is ready for you now." She looks back up at me with a wink before picking up a book. Looking back at their friend, I do my best to force a smile while I lead them to their room.

——

Sitting them down onto the examination chair, I leaned them back and scanned over their forms. From the corner of my eye I watched as they squirmed, their hands playing with their shirt. Their eyes scanned the sterile room, trying to ground themselves. "Are you nervous?" I searched for their file on the computer.

They nod, "Yeah, a little." Nodding along with them, I offer a soft smile.

"Don't worry, I'll be gentle." After a moment of silence, I look back over to them. "This is your first time here correct?"

"Yup. Penny was the one who recommended me here..." I nodded and hooked a sanitary bib around their neck.

"Where did you go previously?"

"I uh... I think it was called Vista Dental...?"

Going back over to the computer, I search up the name and shot them an email, "We'll start in a moment, I'm just having a bit of trouble pulling up your file."

(Y/n) nods, patiently waiting. After a couple of moments, their information finally pops up. Quickly skimming it over, I wrote down their full name onto a sticky note and pasted it onto an empty sheet inside a black binder. "I apologize. I found it and now we can finally begin."

Grabbing a camera and some dental putty, I push the pink paste around their teeth. Making sure that it's fully pressed, we wait a minute or two before I carefully break it off. Placing the molds into a small blue container, I set it down onto the counter for Penny to collect. Then taking a camera and plugging it into the computer monitor, I started taking photos of their teeth. Jotting down more notes onto their file, I take a step back to change my gloves, my breath getting heavy. (Y/n) looks at me with worry laced into their features.

"Everything alright?" I nod, unable to trust my voice.

"I apologize, there's nothing wrong. I should take your molds down-- Penny should've taken it earlier..." Leaving the room, I go over to my office, the dental molds still in hand. Putting it into my bag, I open a window and take a deep breath. What the fuck is wrong with you? Get it together. They're just another client. Just another client.

Going back to their room, I take an explorer and examination mirror and poke around their mouth. Scraping down the sides of their teeth, I clean the bits of gunk that clings to their pearly white teeth. Then grabbing an electric brush, I wheel myself over to some cabinets. "What flavor do you want? Cinnamon, strawberry, or black cherry?" I look back over at (Y/n) with a smirk.

"I'll try the black cherry, I guess." Taking the polish, I roll back over to them, a small smile on their face.

"You're doing great, after this you'll be done." My voice suddenly wasn't able to go above a whisper. My eyes scanned over their face, heat rushing to my cheeks at the proximity. Their sweet scent filled my lungs, my skin prickling from the feeling. My grip tightens against the brush. Trying to clear my mind I continue to scrub their teeth. Just a client. Just a client. Just a client. Blood wells up near the top of their gums, my gaze hyper focused on it. Swallowing, I take the suction tube and place it into their mouth. Watching as the blood flows through the clear tube, I feel my mouth watering. Closing my eyes, I pull the suction tube out of their mouth.

"All done. Great job." Pushing back the overhead light, it shuts off automatically. Realigning the examination chair, I help (Y/n) off of it.

"Thank you so much." Nodding, I back away from them and go over to another part of the room. With my back turned to them, I try to steady my breathing. Turning back around to face them properly, I take a moment to find my voice while they stretch their jaw.

"...Did Penny mention anything before you came today?" (Y/n) shakes their head.

"Why?" A look of concern creeps up on their features. Quickly shaking my head, I cleared my throat.

"She mentioned that she was going to be bringing in a new client is all... I thought she was just messing around." I chuckle. (Y/n)'s body relaxes and for whatever reason, so does mine.

——

Entering my apartment, I kick off my shoes and sit down onto the couch. Throwing my backpack to the side, I pulled out a black binder and flipped to the blank entry. The sticky note from earlier now stuck further down the page than from where it was originally. I pulled out my laptop and launched a couple of background checking apps. Entering (Y/n)'s name into all of them, I searched through the information it managed to provide me. Then plugging in their name into a search bar, I looked for their social media. After about an hour of research and careful combing, I managed to fill out two pages of information on them. Closing the binder, I stretched my limbs and rolled my neck. Suddenly, the sound of a power drill and some hammers broke me out of my calm mood. Making my way towards the front door, I take a peak out through the peephole. Many men and women with stabilizing belts carry various furniture pieces as well as boxes into the unit next door. Just as I'm about to pull away from the door, (Y/n) appears in my vision. My heart stops. This must be some sort of dream... I pinch my skin, hoping for any sort of result. Nothing. A grin makes its way onto my lips.

(Y/n) carries two boxes in hand, carefully moving out of the way of the other workers, I watch as they bounce on either foot. A smile gracing their pretty little lips as they head inside. I feel my mouth start to water once more, my chest tightening. Pulling away from the door, I rush over to my binder and scratch out the address I had found online, replacing it with the new one. Cackling to myself, I head into the kitchen and start preparing the ingredients for some cookies. "You're making it too easy for me, little one..." I sigh, my body buzzing. After the dough was completed, I scooped it out onto a lined baking tray. Letting them cook in the oven, I got on a step stool and raided the cupboard just above the fridge. Taking out the mason jar stuffed inside, I grab a disposable spoon and start stirring the caramel colored continents inside. Once the cookies were done, I drizzled the thick liquid over the cookies and placed the sweet treats on a cooling rack. Every rise and fall of my chest felt heavier than the last, my eyes wide as I do my best to stabilize myself against the counter. My fingers tighten even more around the white laminate, my head buzzing at the sound of their voice.

"Control yourself... Fuck, you need to control yourself..." Closing my eyes, I took in deep breaths, "There's no reason for you to feel excited like this... They're just another person... Just another person who happens to be like an absolute angel..." I can't control the whine that escapes my throat, my eyes watering. "Oh, you will be the death of me, little one..."

——

Entering the clinic, I noticed as Penny taps away at her phone. Her teal painted nails move quickly along the screen, her eyes never leaving it as she greets me a good morning. Suddenly she erupts into laughter, a hand covering her mouth as she looks away from me. Standing in front of her desk, I try to mimic a smile, my eyes drifting towards the clipboard on her desk. Clearing my throat, I wait for Penny to hand it to me, my foot tapping against the wood flooring. After a moment of confusion, a little gasp leaves her as she quickly grabs the stack of papers and hands them to me. Rushing into my office, I quickly run background checks on each patient, my eyes skimming through the generated information. After finishing a couple of clients, I lean back into my seat, a wave of frustration settling into me.

"This isn't as exciting as it usually is... It's like these people aren't worth the effort anymore..." I mumble to myself, eyes fixated on the papers inside my binder. Pulling out my phone, I opened up the cameras installed inside (Y/n) unit; they were originally used on previous victims. I scanned their whole apartment for any signs of life. Nothing.

Flipping back to their profile, I start writing down the date and time. A grin creeping back up on my face. "(Y/n)! Are you home?" A man with tan olive skin and curly black hair enters the unit with a sad looking plant. Switching cameras, I get a better look at him and what he's doing in their apartment. A growl vibrates the column of my throat, my frustration growing. He sets the plant down onto the coffee table before stretching his back. After a couple of twists, he explores the apartment, his shoes still on his feet.

"Hope I'm not interrupting!" He shouts knocking on (Y/n)'s bedroom. Their bedroom still has yet to be decorated, cardboard boxes strewn about the floor of their room. The only thing that has been completed was their bed, a soft green sheet covers the mattress, matching pillows propped up nicely against the headboard. I watch as this man sits down onto the bed, his hand reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a small velvety box, just big enough to fill the center of his palm.

Just then (Y/n) enters their unit, immediately going over to the plant, they pick it up, their head shaking. "What a poor little plant..." They mumble. Continuing on their way, they shakily ask, "Whose there?"

The man bounds over to the door, the box no longer in hand, a wide grin spread along his face, "Hey! Sorry, I let myself in..." (Y/n) shakes their head.

"Don't worry about it. I'm glad to see you Hector." Their lips mimic his, arms outstretched, they pull in close to him. His arms immediately wrapped around their form. Way too excited for my liking. I set my phone down near my keyboard, keeping the volume up, I started searching for 'Hector'. Only I was interrupted by Penny, a man behind her, his hand clasped around his jaw.

"I'm very sorry to bother you but, Mr. Smith's caretaker dropped him off here. He doesn't have an appointment— but he needs an emergency cavity removal, his gums are quite infected." She steps to the side, Mr. Smith walks forward, eyebrows furrowed into a singular unit, "Do you think you can take him? His caretaker already has all of the forms filled out and I can take care of most of the paperwork for you."

Turning off my phone, I nod. "Of course, please put him in room four if it's empty." Penny nods letting him take her arm as she guides him to his room. With a groan, I turn off the radio before grabbing my binder and heading off towards his room.

——

Coming back into my office, my head pounding, I find Penny sitting at my desk on a call. Her personal phone was pressed against her ear, the glittery case making my eyes strain.

Penny's eyes widened in shock, "I'll have to call you back." She quickly hangs up the phone as she rushes to get away from my desk. Putting as much distance between us as possible. I watch as she backs herself into the open window tipping backwards. Rushing forward, I grab her hand, pulling her towards me. Her body now flushed with mine, her face heats up, fingers twisting out of my grip. Shoving me away, she breathes heavily. "What... What are you doing."

"What?"

"I saw what was on your computer... I know what you did. You're sick. Absolutely sick. The police will be on their way..." I feel my heart stop, it drops down to the pit of my stomach. The hairs on my neck stood on edge.

"Penny," My voice is soft and comforting, "I don't know what you saw, but I know that you didn't tell the police." Slowly, I make my way back towards her. She sways, eyes darting towards the door.

"Don't come any closer!" Slowly raising my arms up near my head, I take another step before staying still. "I know what I saw on your computer. It-It's sick!" Shaking my head, I let my arms lower, my fingers sliding into my pants pockets.

"Penny, please... You don't understand..." My eyes watch the outside, ears tuned in for any sirens that may be passing by. My fingers grip the smooth metal. Quickly pulling it out of my pocket, I throw the knife at Penny hitting her right shoulder. She wails, her body hitting the floor. Rushing over to her side, I ripped a small piece of her shirt and stuffed it into her mouth. Taking another knife, I shoved it into her side. Ensuring it went all the way through, I rushed over to my desk and grabbed some duct tape and zip-ties. Binding her limbs together, I sprinted out to my car.

Rushing to clear my trunk, I grabbed a rolled up tarp and laid it flat along the bottom. Smoothing it against the sides, sirens blare nearby. Sprinting inside, I unlocked a storage closet and grabbed Penny. After shoving her inside, I locked the door. Freshening up in the staff bathroom, I sat down at my desk and pulled up Mr. Smith's file. Completing and submitting the paperwork, I waited for the officers to come to me.

——

"So, she just disappeared?" I nod, my fingers lacing together in front of me on my desk.

"She was acting quite weird all day honestly..." I paused, leaning back with a sigh, breaking eye contact briefly, "We all have those off-days so I tried to take it easy on her. She asked to take a break but there was a client— we don't have anyone else to fill in for her— so I asked if she could wait just a little longer before then. She was quite upset so I let her cool off." Both officers nodded, one writing down my statements, "I left her here while I took care of our client and when I came back she was gone. I assumed she just went to take a break and..." I gestured to them. They nodded.

"Do you think we can see the surveillance cameras?"

"Of course." Pulling up the surveillance cameras on my monitor, I turn it around so they can look at it properly. After going through what they needed to, both stand up. The one who wrote down notes, looks at me, his eyes studying my figure. His partner nudges him, head jabbing towards the door.

"One more thing... You need to come down with us to the police station to file an official report." Nodding, I logged out of my computer.

——

I kicked off my shoes and ripped off my jacket. Tossing it onto the couch, I paced my living room, my head pounding. How could I be so fucking careless? She saw everything and almost ratted me out. That little bitch... Storming through the hallway, I ripped the key off of my neck and unlocked the door to my second room. Slamming it shut behind me, I took a deep breath. Using a step ladder, I used plastic sheets to line the walls. Stringing them up, my heart rate started to spike, my mind overflowing with ideas of how to properly take care of Penny.

Gosh, it's been so long... I can't remember the last time— A knock at my door interrupts me from my job. The plastic sheet in my grasp slips from my fingers. With a sigh, I head back over to the front door. Peering out through the peephole, (Y/n)'s smiling face greets me with a tray covered in aluminum foil. Quickly opening the door, I do my best to stay calm. I smile at them, as I catch my breath.

"Uh, hi. I'm your new neighbor... I just wanted to say hello and apologize for the noise." They fumble with the tray in their arms, extending their right hand towards me, they wait for me to take it. My hands tremble as I gripped their soft flesh between my fingers, I shake it gently, afraid to crush them.

"It's nice to meet you... Well, again at least." They let out a soft giggle, the noise sending my soul flying. I watch as heat rises to the tips of their ears, their gaze dipping away from mine. I feel my heart beat unsteadily. It's pace increases the longer I stay near them. "My name is, Luis by the way." They smile, nodding.

"It's really nice to meet you again." I stepped to the side, watching their every movement as they walked into my home. Their eyes scanned each inch of the place, little emotion passing over features. I watch as they stop momentarily, their gaze locked onto something. Clearing my throat, I gestured towards the couch. As I went to sit down, my eyes followed their gaze, my heart dropping.

"Are you renovating?" Their little innocent eyes looked up to mine, an eyebrow raised. My fingers gripped my shirt, nails scraping against my skin.

"Oh— yeah. I-I've been meaning to paint that room a different color but..." My voice trails off as I go over to close the door. Ensuring that it's shut, I go back to my original destination, my hand reaching out towards them. As they make their way to me, they drop off the tray onto the coffee table. "So... What's in the tray?" They smile, their eyes crinkling.

"I made some brownies. It's my apology gift." I can't help but break out into a smile.

"Do you mind if we dig in?" Just as I reach over towards the treat, I notice the sparkling rock sitting on their left hand. A growl leaving my throat.

——

A couple of days after their visit, I knocked on (Y/n)'s door, the container of now warmed cookies in hand. Hector answers the door, his dark wavy hair was pressed against his forehead, a towel wrapped around his neck. His grey shirt was pressed tightly against his skin showing a faint outline of his body. He looks me up and down and nods. "Can I help you?"

"Is (Y/n) home?" He nods, an eyebrow raised. "I wanted to welcome them to the apartment complex." Raising the container of cookies, he nods looking behind him.

"They're pretty busy but I'll tell them you stopped by." He reaches out and I hand him the container, taking a step back I watch as he closes the door. Going back into my unit, I sat down on my couch and pulled up the cameras. I watched as Hector opened the treats. I watched as he grabbed a couple of them, placing them onto a plate. I watched as they both started snacking on them in (Y/n)'s room.

As I continued to watch and wait for them to fall asleep, thuds came from my locked room, I sighed and got up to check on her. Pressing my ear against the door, I could hear metal clanging together, scraping against the walls and floor. I feel my teeth start to grind together while heat works its way up my body, flooding my face and neck. I clenched my eyes shut and shook my head. Swinging the door open, I watched as Penny squirmed harder upon seeing me, muffled noises following the sound of her chains clashing together. Blood dripped down her forehead, eyes and mouth. Both eyes were swollen, angry cuts littered her skin. Most of her bruises, still fresh, were a discolored yellow with greenish spots. Penny groans as I walked towards her, narrowly avoiding the teeth that litter the plastic tarp. Bending down near her face, I flex my hands, my discolored skin straining along with the movement of my fingers. My eyes darken as I glare into hers. Ripping off the gag from her mouth, I watch as her breathing increases to dry heaves, blood splattering out of her mouth and onto my clothes.

"W-Why? Why are you doing this?" My lips quirk upwards, my eyes crinkling. My breath was heavy as I leaned in closer. My eyes darken as I peer up at her through my lashes.

"Oh because it's fun, dear." Getting up, I go over to the corner of the room. Ensuring all of my tools are present and accounted for, I roll over the metal cart, the instrument tray rattling with every crease and bump along the way. I stop it just next to a wooden chair with straps attached to the legs and arm rests. Penny looks up at me with blood shot eyes, and uneven breaths. Pink, almost yellow, tears roll down her cheeks. Her head starts shaking frantically. My head tilts to the side, a smirk raising my features, "What's wrong? You don't want this?" I scoff at the sobs that grow louder.

"Please... Don't do this..." She gasps. Her eyes search the room frantically as I raise her from her spot on the floor. Her limbs limp from exhaustion, barely able to fight back anymore. Shoving her into the chair, her body squirms. Backing away from her, she stumbles out of her chair and tries to scramble away from her place on the floor.

"You're really something special huh?" Kneeling down, I grab her chin to which she snaps away. "Be a good girl for me and I'll go easy on you okay?" Her body freezes, eyes wide and hopeful. Helping her into the chair, I strap her hands and ankles down to prevent injury. Then going over to the cart, I grab a scalpel. Kneeling down to her feet, she starts to struggle once more. Hushing her I try to find the appropriate spot to start digging in. Her skin felt like dollar store tissue paper. Like it would tear from the slightest pressure.

Suddenly, her sobbing quiets down. Worried, my eyes raked up her form, settling on to her eyes. They looked like whirlpools, constantly drawing me in more and more. Green flecks floated around her iris'. She sighed, "...Luis... You're a great person. You don't have to do this...!" Blood catches in her throat, the liquid muffling her words. I give her a sad smile, my head shaking.

"I'm not doing this because I want to be a bad person— the villain. I'm doing this because it's fun and quite relaxing." I let my hand catch her cheek, my thumb rubbing away the trail of thick crimson that stains her skin. "You know, you really are something special..." Quickly, I dug the tip of the scalpel into the scaly skin of her heel. Digging it around further, I dropped the medical instrument and used my fingers to separate the tissue. Pulling it further and further apart, I pushed the skin away from the bone and started pulling her Achilles tendon. The more I pulled, the more excited I got. The warm blood spilled onto my hands, staining my clothes. Penny erupted into a scream, "Oh Penny... If you don't shut the fuck up, I will sew your mouth shut next." Yanking it one final time, the tendon snaps with a satisfyingly wet pop. Penny's screams grow louder, her eyes widening, liquids pouring out of her.

I watch closely as her eyes flutter closed. Her breathing slowing down. I grin, my blood flowing faster through my veins. My face starts to heat up more and more. I'm unable to control my grin as my hands strike against her skin again and again and again. Penny remains unresponsive, her body now slumped over in her chair, the faded blue waves of hair covering her features. Going over to the second shelf of the metal cart, I opened a black-stained wooden box and pulled out a small white bottle with a black label. Opening the cap, I pull the bottle away from my face before wafting it underneath Penny's nose. Her head shifts up, her body straightening in her seat, eyes open, pupils wide. Removing the bottle from her face and capping it, I smack her cheek a couple of times.

"You with me Penny?" A laugh erupts from my stomach, "Try to stay with me okay, dear?" Her eyes search around the room frantically, her body fighting against the restraints. "If you're good, I'll make your end as quick and painless as possible." Grinning, my hands fly to the side of her face to steady her. Tears pour from her eyes like it's the only thing she knows how to do. Too impatient for her response, I pull out a remote from my pocket and press a button. Rock music blasts from speakers hidden around the minimally furnished room.

"Please stop. I did nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing wrong." She struggles harder against her restraints. Cackling, I shook my head.

"No, you did. Trust me." Kneeling back down, I went to work on her other tendon. Repeating the smelling salt process, I continued on with my work. Grabbing a metal chair, I set it down in front of her. Taking a seat, I grabbed a melon-baller from the tray and lifted her eyelids. Pulling it back from her eye, I used the serrated edge to dig it into her eye socket. Pushing it all the way back behind it, I force it forward by popping it out of its socket. Her beautiful eye bobbed up and down, the optical nerve still connected. Almost instantaneously it starts to leak blood. Her violent thrashing causes it to swing back and forth, the other eye watering. Taking it into my hands, I squeeze the eyeball, the natural moisture causing it to slide around in my palm. A shiver runs down my spine as I let it pop, blood running down my hands. Pulling the cord I rip it from its socket. Another wail erupts from her. Incoherent pleas come out between sobs, blood pouring out of where her eye used to be.

"You're doing so well..." I moan, "Want to take a break? Or do you think you can keep going?"

——

Once I was satisfied with my work, I took a look over Penny's unconscious body. Her features were indistinguishable, both eyes were scooped out, the optical nerve on her left eye still hanging. Her nose was bashed in and her teeth pulled out. I cut the cord that held her tongue in place, out of curiosity mainly, and ended up cutting off her tongue in the end. Her nails were ripped out before I smashed her fingers with my favorite hammer. Her arms were mangled, body cut up. My breath was heavy and my mind felt fuzzy. Almost like it was buzzing.

After cleaning up the room and stuffing Penny into my trunk, wrapped in tarps and plastic sheets, I knocked on (Y/n)'s door. After a couple of minutes with no answer, I pulled out a small pouch from my pocket. Unfurling it, I grabbed a jiggle key and shoved it into the lock. After wiggling it a couple of times, I hear a soft click. Pushing the door open carefully, I'm met with the pleasant sight of (Y/n)'s boyfriend laying face down on the floor. Crumbs littered the area around his body. Arms stretched out around him, a plate pinned beneath his torso.

Taking a closer look at him, I noticed his knees were bent underneath him, drool leaked out of his mouth and pooled on the floor below him. I kicked him in the jaw with my foot a couple of times. No response. Afraid I might've killed him, I pressed two fingers against the pulse on his wrist. Counting each beat, I dropped his hand. Standing back up, I looked around the room. Shit, where's (Y/n)? A light groan emitted from him. With a growl, I lifted up his face with the tip of my shoe. I scanned over his features. He was still relaxed, eyes closed and serene. My eyebrows furrowed as I dropped his face back onto the floor.

I continued my way throughout their place. Checking all of the rooms, I was relieved to find that (Y/n) was fast asleep in their room. They laid on the mattress, face up, a blanket wrapped around their delicate form. The soft blue comforter pressed against their body beautifully. Each dip and curve was now visible. Getting closer to their face I let their soft breaths fan against my skin. The warmth that radiated from them loosened my tense muscles. Looking around the room, I picked up each photo there. Some included (Y/n) and their family, others were with their friends. When I came across the one with Penny, I observed both of their features.

They were in a bar leaning against each other. Penny's smile was wide, a drink was in her hand raised above them both. The table in front of them was littered with empty glasses, a snack bowl between them. (Y/n)'s smile was tight and uncomfortable. Their body felt rigid and their posture posed in an unnatural position. They looked away from the camera and down towards their lap. A stray hand from someone unknown was placed on their shoulder. The fingers were clasped to their shirt, almost like the unseen person was ready to brawl. On the side of their hand was a tattoo of a mono-colored hummingbird. Its head was twisted away from (Y/n), towards the faceless patrons enjoying themselves in the back. Turning back towards (Y/n), I ran a hand down their cheek. Their features contort at the feeling. So cute... Sinking into the mattress next to them, I lay over their blankets, my arm wrapping around their waist. My hands smooth over their blanket. Pressing myself against them, I breathe in their scent, letting it settle down in my veins. For a small moment, I felt one with them. With their body pressed up safely against mine. The world didn't matter. It wouldn't matter without them. I know that now.

——

I sat by my door, an ear pressed against it as I listened to (Y/n) check their mail. An exasperated sigh could be heard moments before their mailbox slammed shut. Quickly, I walked out of my unit and headed towards my mailbox. Carefully I passed them by and took out the stack of papers from the metal box. I pretended to sift through them as I watched (Y/n) from the corner of my eyes. I watched as they paused in their tracks and turned around. I watched as they made their way back towards me, tapping at my shoulder. Looking back at them, they smiled.

"I heard you stopped by yesterday and left some cookies for us." Their eyes turned away from mine for a moment, "They were quite tasty, thank you."

I let my smile widen, "It was my pleasure. I'm glad you liked it." Excitement spread on their cheeks tinting their skin a shade darker. My heart starts to race at the thought of them consuming it.

"I'd return the container but, I can't find it." Their foot digs into the carpet below, "I promise I will though..." Just as I'm about to make my way back into my apartment, they grab my arm. "I was wondering... Did you happen to see Hector leave yesterday? He was the one who answered the door..."

"No, I'm sorry." They nodded, their lip catching between their teeth, eyes turned downward. As I continued my way back into my unit, my mind raced with the image of their face. The look in their eyes that expressed so much worry for a man who didn't even love them the way they deserved. A man who holds no respect. No concern for someone like (Y/n).

I went back into my locked room, more than ready to seek justice in their name. Upon opening the door, I'm greeted with the sight of an empty chair and chains. I scanned the room, my heart racing, only for Hector to pop up from behind the door with a can opener. He does his best to attack me, swinging violently at my face. In response I dodge, pivoting on my dominant foot, my hand clutching his wrist and the other at his neck. Pushing him so that his body is in front of me, I shove him into the ground, twisting his wrist I pin both of his hands behind his back. With the hand around his neck, I bash his face into the ground. I only stop once his chest slows down to exhausted puffs. Strapping him back down onto the chair, I take a wet rag and drag it across his face. The once grey rag darkened to a deep red. I wrung out the cloth into a separate empty bucket. The thinned out liquid crawls down my fingers and wrists. Repeating the motion, I inspected the damage. They always think that something like that could really stop me... I chuckled.

The bridge of his nose is now crooked in two different areas. A large, throbbing cut separated them with blood flowing down to his upper lip. He spits in my face, the blood splattering onto my left cheek. I moan, my eyes now focusing on him. My head tilts to the side smirking at him. He growls in frustration. "You're sick." Blood continues to splatter against my face as he tries to talk.

"So are you." My eyes drift towards the humming bird tattoo that was engraved into the skin of his hand. Leaning forward, I press my lips against his ear, "People like you don't deserve to exist because all you do— your only purpose in life is to get in the way of other people. This is not your story. You're just another side character in it. A mere place holder for their true love." I spit, my patience running thin.

Leaning back I kneel down towards the floor and pulled out the picture from yesterday. My index finger tapping against (Y/n)'s uncomfortable form. A memory that they would've wanted to forget but is, for whatever reason, still there as a reminder. I raise my eyebrows at him, my eyes scanning his features for any tells. He's blank. Or maybe just stupid. "What about it?" He mumbles.

"You're touching them in this photo and they're clearly uncomfortable. Why is that?"

"Why are you assuming that I was the one to make them uncomfortable?" My body grows warm, I take a deep breath, a scoff running through me.

"(Y/n) and Penny were good friends. I have a lot of doubts that Penny would be the one to make them feel uncomfortable." Hector frowns, eyes squinting at me. "Besides, when I met you, there was something off about you..."

"You're one to talk." He mumbles, my shoulders tensed up. Pulling myself off the floor, I walk over to the corner of the room. My tray of instruments now cleaned, I rolled the cart over to him. His eyes scanned over it.

"So are you saying that you didn't do it?" my tone was light and amused as sweat built up just above his brow.

"O-of course." His voice raises. "You don't know the full story between Penny and (Y/n). I'm honestly so surprised that you didn't hunt her down or something..." His head turns, eyes swiveling around the room for a way out. I shake my head at him, a chuckle bursting out of me. Hector's eyes widened.

"I'm already bored of you. Let's just get this over with." Picking up the can opener, I grab one of his fingers only to laugh at his struggling. "Hush now... If I have to turn on the music," I place the opener onto his lap and grab some flat nosed pliers, "it would only make this whole ordeal less fun than it already is." Hector starts to hyperventilate, his chair rattling as he tries to escape. He screams for help, my eyes rolling. Reaching into my pocket, I press the button and let rock music blare in the background. Positioning his uneven nails between the metal, I let it clamp down for a second before slowly pulling the nail closer towards me. His breathing increases as I slowly pull the nail out, increasing the pressure bit by bit before ripping it clean off. I chuckle at the childish wail he emits. Putting the pliers to the side, I grab the can opener from his lap and latch his bloody fingertip between the sharp metal. Slowly, I twist the handle, forcing the sharp metal through his finger.

"Oh come on now... I haven't finished with you just yet. Besides, the chorus is just about to begin." Hector continues to cry, his body shaking.

——

It has been about two months now. Hector and Penny's missing person's posters were all over the lobby walls. Anytime I'd see them outside of their apartment, they seemed uneasy and frustrated. Even that pebble on their finger was missing. After a while, the tight feeling in my chest wouldn't leave unless I had them near me where I knew they were safe. At the clinic, with Penny now gone, I managed to convince (Y/n) to work for me. It eased the pressure a little bit, but when I got home, it was never enough.

"Mr. Smith has been dropped off by his caregiver. His implants aren't working out for him anymore... He said Mr. Smith would do better with implants." (Y/n), handed me their papers.

"Did the family consent as well?" They nodded, handing me a separate pack of papers. "Alright, please escort them to an empty room and I'll be right there." I watched them leave, the scrubs I had picked out for them were a wonderful fit.

As I finished submitting the paperwork, for our client, screams could be heard from the other side of the clinic. My fingers twitched. My eyebrows furrowed, heat settling into my bones. Getting up and heading over to where the source of the noise was, I was met with the sight of Mr. Smith touching what's mine. His hands were clutched around their arms, eyes wide and mouth open. Spit shooting out of his mouth as yelled, I rushed over to their side. Prying his fingers off of them, I pushed them back and behind me. Mr. Smith's caregiver rushing into the room. He helps me calm him down. My blood felt like it was boiling my insides. Ready to melt the flesh off my bones in an instant. Without thinking, I shouted at (Y/n) to leave the room as I made my way over to a cabinet at the back of the room. Locking the door behind them, I pulled up a metal stool, Mr. Smith's caregiver taking it. Grabbing an IV kit filled with anesthesia, I slid the needle into his vein. As we waited, I stalled by pretending to look something up on my computer.

"Sorry, it'll just take a minute... I'm having trouble pulling up his file." His caretaker nodded, his eyes focused on his phone screen.

As soon as Mr. Smith's eyes started to flutter closed. I struck. After forcing a scalpel into the side of his body, I took out my personal knife and stabbed him again. Slicing open his stomach in a c-section like manner, I watched as blood pooled out of his body and onto the floor. His caregiver looks up at me, my hands bloody, his client now open. Taking out the knife from his body, I watch as he trips over the stool, stumbling towards the locked door. Twisting the knob frantically, he starts pounding on the door. Quickly I shoved the knife into the nape of his neck, blood getting caught in his throat. With a deep sigh, I cleaned myself off and calmly headed into my office. Luckily, (Y/n) was already waiting there for me, their hands wrapped around themselves.

"Are you alright?" They nodded.

"How is he?" I nodded.

"He's out right now, his caregiver will take care of the rest." They let out a shaky exhale. I let my eyes scan over them. I swallowed, letting myself get closer to them. My fingers slowly danced over the side of their arms, my mouth watering. Letting my fingers grip their sleeves, I pushed myself closer to them. Upon seeing their confused look, I held back. If I don't do this now, I'll never have the chance ever again... Taking out a small syringe from my pocket, I slowly walked behind them, my hand on their shoulder.

Stabbing their arm with the syringe, I pushed the plunger down. Their eyes flutter, confusion and betrayal laced on their features. They stutter struggling to get words out of their pretty little lips. I watch as they drop down to the floor, foam spilling out of their mouth. Kneeling down to their level, I catch their chin between my fingers. Coming closer to their face, I smile. "I realized, without you. I mean nothing. I don't have any purpose in life if it's not to protect you. To show you just how wonderful love can be when done right. I realized how beautiful and addicting it can be." I watched as their body went limp, their eyes blinking up at me.

"I'm devoted to you more than you would ever know in this timeline. You are my deity and I am your most devoted worshiper. I want only to serve you. To be with you. To love you... One day, I know you will love me the same."

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6nives · 4 months

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um , alt schizophrenic stalkers tht committed several crimes & wana hurt me even after killing me dont exist im kms

(cum 2 da vid of me kms)

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captainhowdiepleasetextme · 2 days

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MENTAL HEALTH MATTERS TILL:

They're a pedophile,

They're narcissistic,

They're a psychopath,

They're a sociopath,

They're antisocial,

They're a therian... And so much more.

REMEMBER THAT I DO NOT SUPPORT THEIR ACTIONS. I'M JUST POINTING OUT HOW MENTAL HEALTH ACTUALLY DOESN'T MATTER TO SOME OF US.

THEY'RE ALSO HUMANS AND THEY NEED OUR HELP!

Open your eyes, humans.

#mental health #mentalhealthmatters #pedophillia tw #narcissistic personality disorder #antisocial #therian #sociopathic #psychopath #help #facts #please reblog #fypage #fyp #pay attention

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cemitadepollo · 13 days

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Well, since Joker 2 is coming out, expect to see a lot of saneism thrown around by some people.

Yet again, reminder to anyone who experiences psychosis, delusions, intrusive thoughts, a lack of empathy, unstable moods, odd behaviours, or literally any other symptom of mental illness, that you're not evil. Thought crime isn't real, and you're not to blame for having trauma or different reactions to traumatic things, whatever happened to make you have a mental illness -whether you were born with it or developed it- is NOT your fault. Disability is not a symbol of moral failing and it does not affect your worth as an individual.

Wish people stopped making us their quirky brand of horror and started letting us tell them about the horrors we are forced to experience.

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aspd-culture · 9 months

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@brandon666

First off, you have some *really* inaccurate ideas of what ASPD is. Do you think we can survive in the world acting like you expect me to act? Far more often, pwASPD appear detached and callous rather than actively hostile the way you're saying. We aren't 12 year old kids on Xbox Live voice chat, * s p o o k y voice* we are all around you. You wouldn't be able to pick most of us out of a crowd, even if you had direct interaction with us. In fact, a running joke here and in my real life is that people often tell pwASPD "don't worry, I can sniff out a s*ciop*th a mile away" or similar not realizing they're talking shit about us to our face.

There *are* pwASPD who are still entirely valid who act the way you're saying - and also plenty of prosocials who behave like that too. But it isn't all of us, all the time. Most of us are capable of and maybe even prefer to be cool, calm, and calculated about how we speak and act because of the trauma we have.

Unlike people on TV like Dr. House, there are real life consequences to the behavior you describe, and many of us strive not to be happy, but for life to be as convenient as possible. Kinda hard to get convenience while you're pissing everyone off. Ever heard the part of ASPD where they mention we are manipulative and charismatic? Yeah that isn't exactly compatible with being crass, careless, pranking, or offensive. Careless actually specifically bothers me because we are often said to "play a social chess game" with people we talk to. Many of us are extremely calculating and overly cautious. And many of us aren't, but it certainly isn't like you're saying all the time. Even pwASPD who *do* act like that usually are calm and "respectful" sometimes.

Also, I never claimed to be unmasked on this blog. Most of the time, I am absolutely masking to some degree - although much less than IRL. You can actually see that in the tags, I use "a rare unmasked aspd-culture" as a joke about this fact. Whilst this is a safe place for other pwASPD to unmask if they'd like, my posts on this blog are different. My side of this is helping educate people - prosocial, antisocial, whoever - if/when they have questions for me about ASPD which is fairly frequent. This isn't to say I am not ok with unmasking here, like I said it's happened before, but consider the context of what's happening.

I'm often asked genuine questions about ASPD, some of which are ableist (almost always on accident!) and many of which are based on extremely common misconceptions. If I were to unmask while answering those, I would end up being really shitty to people who are trying to learn - often people who want to do better for the pwASPD in their life, or for themselves. We talk about coping mechanisms and the development of ASPD a lot here; with those topics there is little room for my unmasked behavior *and* education. If I were to unmask while answering, no one would be getting anything out of asking those questions even if I was providing info because it's hard to take in new information from someone when they're being defensive or hostile.

I don't want to be hostile towards them, I want to help because if ASPD is ever going to be destigmatized, someone has got to answer their questions and help show them what it is and what it isn't! We can't expect prosocials to fend for themselves in the cesspool of stigma that the typical google results on ASPD show - someone has to help them. And since one of my special interests (something autistic ppl like myself have and love to infodump about) is mental health, especially my own disorders, I am happy to be one of the people they can ask these sometimes tough questions to.

I am also helping pwASPD! Many questions I get are people trying to understand their own disorder or the disorder they think they might have. It sucked for me, learning this all on my own (and I'm still learning too), so I can use the cognitive empathy I've taught myself over the years and remember the feelings I went through when I was trying to find unbiased info.

There's a transaction here - a major part of ASPD if you didn't know - I calmly and respectfully answer people's questions, and the world becomes slightly less ignorant and we get a slight amount of progress on destigmatizing this disorder. That makes my life easier too. In the process, I see many culture asks that remind me I'm not alone in this. Often, posting those gives me some catharsis, and you will sometimes see me going off in the tags about what I've dealt with. But for the most part, I'm giving other pwASPD an open space to unmask as well as to ask questions to someone who will, 95% of the time, give a masked and respectful answer. Friendly is a stretch tho lol unless you missed the original post about the syscourse that you commented this on.

So yeah, long and short, you're definitely missing something here and that's ok. Just learn and do better. I know you might see that as another thing that is flying in the face of ASPD or whatever, but it's no skin off my back if you think I have ASPD or not, and anyway I'd rather you just learn and maybe next time someone says something like that to/around you about ASPD, you'll have the knowledge to correct it. Spreading info is an exponential situation - once I tell you guys things, some of you will inevitably tell someone else that, and so on and so forth until a good handful of people now know things about ASPD they didn't before. If not, oh well. I got to infodump and see relatable posts that made me feel seen.

Either way, it's been, and hopefully will continue to be, a net positive. You are absolutely welcome to keep this dialogue going if you have questions, want clarification, are enraged that I gave you a calm response, whichever. Even if you don't get anything out of this, someone else seeing it might.

I'll really fuck with you now - I genuinely hope you have a good day.

#aspd-culture-is #aspd culture is #aspd culture #actually aspd #aspd #aspd awareness #actually antisocial #antisocial personality disorder #aspd traits #anons welcome #tw sociopath

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