jumpingjacktrash:

the-real-seebs:

writing-prompt-s:

A psychic vigilante who can alter peoples brains with a single touch uses his power to deliver the ultimate punishment upon evil psychopaths: empathy.

as long as they stick to the evil ones, i guess that’s okay by me? probably sucks to be them, though, haha.

fuck, what a terrifying power. imagine if they just went around ‘curing’ people at random. “hey, this person on the bus has the aura of a sociopath, i’d better give them empathy so they don’t do murders.” a couple hours later: a surgeon has a sobbing breakdown in the middle of a tumor removal because oh shit this is a human being we’ve got flayed open here and it feels so wrong.

all proud of themself for ‘fixing’ people, the vigilante leaves devastation in their wake. people with adhd keep taking their usual meds, not knowing why they’ve gotten so excitable lately, and end up addicted to amphetamines. autistics find no joy in their special interests anymore, and don’t know what to do with this terrifying onslaught of metadata in every face and voice, nor why their senses seem so dulled; when they describe their new symptoms to a therapist, the conclusion is early stage schizophrenia, but antipsychotics don’t help.

the vigilante doesn’t realize what they’ve been doing until they try to help their next door neighbor, an elderly woman soldiering along despite a number of deteriorating conditions. they notice she’s got depression too, and think, “well, at least i can help with that part.” one touch, and her brain chemical balance is restored. the dull fog of apathy and executive dysfunction is blown away by winds of clarity and self-direction.

clear-headed for the first time in years, she takes stock of her situation, gets in her car, and drives off a bridge.

the vigilante succumbs to self-doubt, their internal monologue full of melodrama about ‘playing god’ and ‘meddling’ and vows to give up heroing. they remove their glove for one final act: they touch their own head, intending to delete their power. but as soon as they reach for their mind, it becomes apparent: the narcissism that allowed them to think they had the right to change minds by force. what if they just took hold of that and… *pop!*

“oh!” the ex-vigilante says, and starts to laugh and cry at the same time. “i should’ve done that first. why didn’t i do that first?”

several years later, now in posession of a freshly minted psychology degree, the former vigilante begins a new life as a counsellor. on the palm of their power hand, to remind them whenever they take the glove off, is a word tattooed in bold type:

consent