#tw reference of suicide

[screamingatanemptyroom]

Please Fix the Story - Side Part - Liam

LAST SIDE PART! Liam's story. I really hope you guys enjoy! This has been a wild ride, and I can't wait to move on to whatever is next!

Masterpost linked here

_______________________________

“Every dragon has a treasure.”

Grandfather spoke seriously to me, his large silver form towering over my small one. I never felt fear or discomfort facing him, despite his enormous size, however, because his eyes were always filled with warmth and love.

“Like gold?” I asked, rolling on the ground to scratch the new scales on my back. “Or diamonds?”

“Treasure for a dragon is much more than a simple shiny object.” Grandfather watched my actions with a toothy grin. “It represents something much greater than that. A treasure can’t be owned by the dragon, quite the opposite in fact.”

He reached out a claw, flipping me over and patting the dirt and grass from the ridges on my back. I looked up at him, stunned by the seriousness in his gaze. “A dragon’s treasure is whatever owns his heart. It is a piece of their soul, the truest home a dragon can have is by his treasure’s side. If something happens to the treasure, it destroys the heart of the dragon… so we protect our treasures with our lives.”

“Wow! I want a treasure!” I tried to fly, but my immature wings could only lift me a few feet before I fell back down to the ground.

“Oh Little One, you will.” He assured me. “Every dragon does.”

“Wait... then what’s your treasure?”

His eyes grew very sad. “My treasure was your grandmother. I loved her more than life itself.”

“My grandmother? I shook my head, confused. “Where is she?”

“She passed, Child. She had to leave me first.” His eyes had tears in them. “Dragons are nearly immortal, but there are still far too many things that can end our journeys early.”

“I thought you said if something happens to your treasure…?”

“Her death destroyed me… I wanted to follow her.” He stared out at the sky. “But your parents had fallen in the same battle… and I couldn’t leave my Little One alone. You were just an egg then.” His eyes focused back on me. “I will always miss her, my heart will never be the same. However, she would want me to care for you, raise you well. You are our grandchild, a living proof of her existence, and I am fortunate to have the chance to be your family.”

I rushed over and hugged Grandpa’s leg. “It’s okay! Don’t be sad!  I love you!”

“I love you too!” He smiled again. “And one day, Little One, when you find your treasure, I hope that you both know nothing but peace and joy. “

“I’ll find my treasure! And then you can live with both of us!”

His large claw rested gently on my head. “I would love that.”

I went to sleep that night, dreaming of family and a bright future ahead.

The next day, I lost everything.  

_______________________________

I was playing in a field, chasing butterflies. I scampered after a bright blue one, capturing it gently between my claws.

“Pretty!” I admired its big blue wings. “I wish I could fly like you! Grandpa says I need to grow a few more years before my wings will be big enough.” My voice dropped to a whisper. “But I practice anyways! When I can fly I’ll go looking for my treasure! And then I will grow up big and strong and protect everyone, so no one has to be sad like my grandpa ever again!”

The butterfly flapped its wings nervously, and I opened my claws to release it. “Go home, butterfly! Bye bye!”

I watched as it flew away… directly into a blue portal that materialized in front of me. The poor creature was incinerated as I stared, horrified.

“What is going on…?” A glowing blue figure stepped out. It looked somewhat human, but not at the same time. I briefly wondered if it was like Grandpa, who could take a human form when he needed to be smaller. As I considered this, the being stepped closer, its eyes focused directly on me. Feeling uneasy, I backed away a few steps.

YOU ARE A DRAGON?

The words were spoken and at the same time wrote themselves in the sky above me. I knew how to read, Grandpa had taught me, but I had never heard of a being that could speak written words into existence.

“Y-yes! I’m a mighty dragon like my grandpa!” I puffed out my chest proudly, but after a moment my shoulders still shrank back in fear.

YOU HAVE BEEN CHOSEN.

“Chosen? For what?”

YOU WILL BE A MIGHTY HERO, TRAVELING TO MANY WORLDS, SAVING THE UNIVERSE. YOU WILL BE GIVEN UNIMAGINABLE POWER AND WEALTH. YOU WILL BE THE GREATEST DRAGON TO EVER EXIST.

“… cool.” I thought it over. “Can my grandpa come?”

NO. THIS WORLD WILL BE DESTROYED BY YOUR DEPARTURE.

“Oh… no thank you, then.” I started backing away. “I have to go home now.”

YOU HAVE BEEN CHOSEN. REFUSAL WILL NOT BE ALLOWED.

I turned away to run “GRANDPA!”

“CHILD! RUN!” I saw my grandfather, his large silver form flying desperately towards me. In his eyes I saw a look I had never seen before, no matter how many dangers we had faced since my hatching.

He looked scared.

“GRANDPA!”

YOU MUST ACCEPT YOUR FATE.

Power made of blue fire wrapped around me. My grandfather was close enough to breath his own fire towards the unknown being, but it disintegrated into nothingness as it neared it.

“LITTLE ONE! NO!”

A terrified cry. Tear-filled eyes. A look of anguish.

My last memory of my grandfather, before my home realm was destroyed.

And then I was truly alone.

_______________________________

I was taken to a new realm, a realm only for me. Nothing else could live there. Insects, plants, even moss and mold… they would appear briefly, live just long enough for me to dream that this time, things would be different, before withering away. Death was my constant companion in this realm. Each time a new living creature or plant would arrive, I would tell myself not to hope. Hope would only result in more pain. But still my young heart beat quickly with it each time I discovered something new.

But soon, loneliness would no longer be my greatest fear. The System began dragging me into lower realms, telling me to play my part.

I will never forget my first mission.

It was a high school world. My character was a bully, one that tormented the hero and heroine relentlessly. His father was a very wealthy and influential man, and this boy leveraged every once of that prestige to make others miserable.

When I arrived, I was scared, confused. I had never been a human before, much less in a place of only humans. Even as I tried to orient myself to my new surroundings, however, I was given a mission:

My mission was to die.  

In the story, character failed to separate the hero and his love. In this end his misdeeds were exposed on the internet, and the entire world turned against him. Even his father disowned him, cutting off financial support, which had been the only affection he had bothered to bestow upon the boy.

"EVIL! VILLAIN!"

He received thousands upon thousands of messages like this.

"WORTHLESS! DIE!"

Near the end of the story, the villain took his own life. My mission was to continue with the villain’s role as written, while the hero’s story would be changed to save the realm.

I refused.

My grandfather had always taught me to be kind to others, and to myself. I couldn’t bully the two leads, any more than I could harm myself because others wanted me to. I was still a dragon, at least at heart, and I would stay strong.

When I changed the ending, the world faded around me with a simple glowing message:

MISSION FAILED.

I was back in my dragon form in my prison realm, and standing in front of me was an angry young man.

“Are you happy?” He asked me, his eyes cold.

“I don’t understand. Who are you?”

“Obviously you don’t understand!” He pointed at himself. “I am the hero.” His finger turned towards me. “YOU are the villain. We each have our parts to play.”

“I don’t want to harm others, or myself.” I backed away, showing my teeth in a way grandpa had taught me to scare off bad guys like him. “Go away!”

His response was a vicious smile. “Do you know what happened to that world? That lower realm we had traveled to?”

I shook my head.

“Show him, System!” With a wave of his hand a portal opened up next to me. I tried to back away further, but paused at the sight inside:

My character refused to jump off the school roof, as the original ending dictated. As my character was surrounded in blue fire and slumped to the ground, the entire world began bending and warping. The world slowly began to cave in on itself, turning into nothingness.

It was a familiar sight to me, and as I watched, golden tears dripped from my eyes.

It was exactly like the destruction of my home world.

“You killed them.” I whispered, horrified.

“No. YOU killed them.” He leaned forward, and the madness in his eyes terrified me. “You didn’t play your part! The world became unstable and collapsed. Do you understand? All those children you met, all the teachers and parents… every single person you met in that realm… dead. All because of you.”

My small claws covered my head, trying to hide. “NO!”

“Oh yes, what a wonderful villain you turned out to be.” He laughed. “You bring nothing but pain and destruction to those around you, and you need to learn to follow the rules.”

“…”

“You must accept your fate, Villain.” He left with those parting words, which would haunt me each moment going forward

_______________________________

I changed shortly after that. Each time I was dragged into a lower realm, I would get my mission, and fulfill it as simply and quickly as possible. I avoided bullying or harming others, only possible as my mission was almost always regarding the ending for the villain. But the ending required was always terrible.

Death continued to be my constant companion, this time my own. Countless missions of death and destruction, until they all blurred into one another. I never knew if my obedience to the mission changed the fates of these realms or not as Adonis and the System would never tell me. I could only hope.

I matured into adulthood, but nothing changed in my suffering. I had almost forgotten who I was. I had no name but "Villain", I had no purpose but to be defeated so that others could thrive.

I did take some solace in that my current compliance did not make them happy. My race towards the ending of each realm irritated Adonis, which I learned was the name of the hero who would visit me occasionally in my realm.

“You are moving too fast! I don’t have any time to do my part in the realm as you race towards your own bad ending! If you can’t play along…” He trailed off with a threatening tone.

I looked at him without interest. His words meant nothing to me. “You cannot threaten me.” I told him, feeling numb.  “You have already destroyed everything I love. My family is gone. I am alone.”

And I was alone.

On the rare nights I wasn’t dragged into the lower realms to die, I would dream of my home. Of watching dragons fly freely in the sky. Of my grandfather and his loving smile, of his dream that I would find my treasure and live out my days in joy and peace. Each time i dreamt, the details would fade a bit more. I was losing my sense of self, of any purpose other than that which had been forced on me.

I was a dragon, my grandpa said that was something to be proud of.

But I slowly I turned into something else, something twisted. I was becoming the villain I had been named and nothing more.

If life had continued on that way, I don’t know what my ending would have been. A dragon is immortal, but there are still ways to cut their journeys short. Death of hope, destruction of the soul, is one of those ways. I was heading towards a point of no return.

And then I met Bel.

_______________________________

We first met in a lower realm, where I was an assassin, she the heroine. She was lost, confused, and acting totally out of character for the story, which shocked me. I hadn't known there was another traveler like Adonis. After we ran into each other, she spoke to me normally, even kindly, overwhelming me by even the brief interaction. When she asked my name, I responded “Villain” the only one I could remember.

She misheard and called me Liam.

I didn’t correct her, it was the best name I had ever been called.  We drank coffee and talked, and it was the happiest time I could remember since the destruction of my world.

But all good things must end, and there was a counter to finish this mission.  Our missions in this world were the same: the death of the assassin. Seeing her worried gaze on me, I realized this was the first time someone had showed me concern since my grandfather.

I didn’t want her to be sad.

I drank poison, pretending to drink her cup by mistake, and walked away.

Death was my constant companion, but I didn’t want her to see me die.

I saw her a few times after that, mostly in non-human or monstrous forms. She remained the same no matter my appearance, which made me start to wonder a very dangerous thought: would she still be so kind if she knew I was a dragon, a villain?

I buried that hope deep within my heart, not wanting to examine it too closely. But soon it would be difficult to ignore.

_______________________________

Adonis cast her into my realm. He was punishing her, trying to force her to agree with accepting the path and bonds of fate. He knew she would suffer in my realm, slowly having her life drained from her. He must have expected her to cave, to turn back to him in less than a day.

I too thought she would return to the Higher Realm. Initially I treated her coldly, not wanting to have any hope that she would be different than any other living animal or plant that appeared in this place. She would leave here, and it was best I wasn’t too attached.

But Adonis and I both underestimated the wonderful stubbornness of Bel.

She felt the draining effect of the realm, yes, but refused to give in, wanting to stay. I hovered over her, watching her increasingly pale form with increasing anxiety. I had to do something, but what could I, a prisoner and villain, possibly do?

When I got pulled into the lower realm once more, it was a horror story, a world of vampires. I adjusted to my new form, and instead of heading straight to my destruction as I typically did, I found Adonis instead.

“Are you enjoying the company, Villain?” He asked me with a sarcastic grin.

“I actually go by Liam now.” I responded blandly, my fear of him long ago corroded by time and countless deaths. “And yes, I’m happy for her presence.”

Adonis’ eyes filled with rage. “You are NOTHING to her. Nothing but a villain. And don’t get too comfortable, she will be leaving soon.”

“That’s up to her, isn’t it? She wasn’t too happy with you last time I checked.”

He swung his fist at my head in anger, but it was a useless move. I was a vampire in this world. Compared to me, his human form might as well be moving in slow motion. I dodged his arm easily, and knocked him to the ground.

“She doesn’t belong there!” He spat out.

"Why not?" I hoped he would say something to help me figure out how to help her.

Fortunately he obliged. “Her very nature is that of a heroine. Your realm will reject her, slowly destroy her. Just like your pathetic and evil nature keeps you alive and well in your little prison. You can’t change your nature, Villain. That evil place shares your energy, but will only drain hers until she dies.”

I felt relieved at the extra information, but also horrified at the same time. “You do remember that you were the one to put her in that realm, right? Were you trying to kill her?!”

Adonis smiled. “She just needed a little reminder of who she is, and what she needs to do.”

“And what is that?”

“She needs to accept her fate.”

At his words, I reached out, grabbing his neck and lifting him off the ground. My nails pierced the skin of his neck, his blood dripped down my hand onto the floor and I felt my fangs pierce my gums, preparing to feed. I held back though, not wanting to taste his blood. It smells terrible. I assume the energy within must be very contaminated by his self-absorbed soul and ruthless nature. I thought, my brain slowly making a connection.

Wait… if blood carries energy, and the essence of one’s nature… Then I might have a way to help Bel.

Even as I felt excited about this revelation, I felt a sharp pain in my back. I turned, just in time to see the heroine of the story holding a stake, stabbing it through to my heart.

Adonis laughed as my hand released him and I stumbled backwards, clutching at my chest. “See, monster? The heroine will only ever despise you and kill you if she can.”

“That’s not Bel.” I muttered, feeling my life fade from me. “That woman is a character from this world.”

“Bel IS the heroine, Villain, she will be the prototype from which all heroines will derive their fate. She can only be the heroine.  Just like you can only be a monster. She will never stay by your side." He stepped closer. "I’m just waiting for her to realize the truth of what you are and what she is. And then she’ll return to me. Return to where she belongs.”

The last thing I saw in this realm was his confident smile, and the heroine’s blank uncaring stare.

I died painfully in that realm, but it gave me an idea. I fed her my dragon blood, filled with the same energy as the realm that imprisoned us. It sustained her briefly, but I worried that it was only delaying the inevitable.

We spent the time together, getting to know each other better. She was kind, curious, outspoken. She found the humor in everything, and slowly I found myself joking alongside her. A deep certainty grew within me.

She was my treasure.

Just like my Grandpa said. Not an object, not something that could be owned. My heart belonged to her. I, who had lost any home since the destruction of my own world, had found it: by her side.

I took a chance, showed her my true self, my heart in my throat the entire time as her eyes studied my dragon form.

She smiled, and the love I felt was overwhelming. I was drowning in it. For the first time in a long time, I felt that I was something more than just a villain, a monster.

I was a dragon, and she was my treasure. I would protect her with my life, protect her happiness, no matter what.

_______________________________

But our story, at least the first time around, was not one with a happy ending, but a tragedy.

I proposed. Asked her to marry me in the mermaid realm. She agreed, and we had a wedding. She had made a deal with the sea witch to marry her true love, and at the moment we said “I do” her mission was complete.

We returned to my prison, to my realm.

And she was dying.

I felt my heart dying with her. A part of me wanted to force her to return to the Higher Realm, to be safe. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t ask her to buy her safety with her freedom. I could only allow her to make her own choice, and stay by her side. I remembered vaguely my grandfather telling me about my grandmother’s death. And I understood. I couldn’t resume my hopeless lonely existence I couldn’t continue without her.

I would stay with her, and I would die with her.

But the end I expected didn’t come. The System made a deal with her and I watched on, holding my breath, as she agreed. And as she disappeared, I panicked.

“LET ME FOLLOW HER!”

The System studied me, looking at me closely without emotion or curiosity. It was as if it was solving a mathematical equation that I was a part of.

SHE HAS MADE A DEAL, YOU CANNOT FOLLOW HER.

“I’ll make a deal too! Take anything you want, please just let me follow, let me protect her!”  My heart, my soul was tearing in two, she was so far from me, and she was in danger.

YOU HAVE NOTHING TO OFFER.

“You can have ME! You can have your perfect villain! I’ll play my role, I’ll never once step out of line or rush to the end! You can have the puppet you always wanted.”

... YOU WOULD SACRIFICE YOUR FREE WILL?

I didn't hesitate.

“For her? Anything.”

Words scrolled in front of me. The deal the System offered. I would be allowed no memories, but I could follow her to every world. I wasn’t worried about not remembering her. She was part of my soul, my treasure. I could no more harm her than I could rip my own heart from my chest. But the cost.

Oh, the cost.

It was a deal with the devil, but still I considered it. The System, sensing my hesitation, spoke again.

SHE HAS COMPLETED FIVE WORLDS ALREADY… BUT WITHOUT PURPOSE SHE IS IGNORING THE POWER AVAILABLE TO HER. HER WILL IS FALTERING. CALCULATED CHANCE OF SUCCESS IS LESS THAN ONE PERCENT.

“If I take this deal and help her? Does it improve her chances?”

UNKNOWN. SIX WORLDS.

I felt my soul tearing apart. The System was demanding I put not just my freedom and will on the line, but countless worlds that I had saved before. If I agreed, I would have no defense. I would be the monster, the villain that Adonis called me.

Not Bel’s Liam.

The System’s monster.

SHE IS STARTING THE ELEVENTH WORLD. AT CURRENT CALCULATIONS, SHE WILL GIVE UP IN THE TWELFTH. THE DEAL WILL BE SUCCESSFUL, AND ALTHOUGH YOUR OFFER TO HAVE A PERFECT VILLAIN WOULD GREATLY SIMPLIFY THE PROCESS... YOU CAN BE REPLACED. YOU ARE UNNECESSARY. THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE TO ACCEPT.

Bel needed me. I had a choice, and I willingly made it. And even if I damned my soul for eternity, I would burn happily for her safety.

I pressed “Yes”.

_______________________________

“Every dragon has a treasure.”

A young child sat in front of me in the park, his eyes wide with wonder. His dark hair resembled my own, but his eyes…

His eyes were just like his mother’s.

“Like pirate treasure?!” He asked excitedly, and I couldn’t help but laugh, remembering a long ago conversation with my grandfather.

“No, much better than that! A dragon’s treasure can’t be owned, because it is the treasure who owns the dragon’s heart. The truest home a dragon can have is by his treasure’s side. And so, we dragons protect our treasures with their lives.”

“Wow! Do YOU have a treasure, Dad?”

At his question, I looked over to the side, where Bel and our other three children were. They were sneaking up on a couple sitting on a park bench, a handsome man in a suit, speaking to a young woman wearing a loosely fitted dress.

“I'm sorry but I have to go." The man said dramatically.

"Where are you going?! And why?"

"I can’t tell you what’s going on, Penny!”

“Why not?!” The woman he called Penny cried. “Please, Charles, Don't leave! You don’t understand, I really need you here! What’s going on? Just talk to me!”

 “It’s for your own protection.” He paused. “Wait, why do you really need me here? Is something going on?”

Penny looked away. “Never mind.”

“STOP RIGHT THERE!”

PSST!

Our little girl, Hannah, raced forward with her sister Selina and her brother Adam, all wielding small spray bottles.

“Who are you…?” Charles tried to ask, only to be pushed down in his seat by the horde of children.

“You two have terrible communication skills!” Hannah put her hands on her hips, glaring at the male and female leads. “And at this rate you two are headed towards a bad end.”

“What?” Penny shook her head. “We communicate just fine!”

“If that is what you think good communication is, I hate to see what you think bad looks like!” Adam rolled his eyes. “Just because you both are technically speaking words in the same language does not mean you can communicate.”

“Yeah, what they said.” Selina, the quiet one of the three, finally spoke up.

“Listen you little…” Charles started to swear, but stopped, sputtering, when Selina sprayed him in the face.

PSST!

“Sorry, could you repeat that? I couldn’t hear you over the sound of the stupid coming out of your mouth.”

Charles tried to stand up, a hand raised threateningly, only to scream in pain as Bel put him into an arm lock and expressionlessly forced him back onto his bench.

“Hands to yourself, and listen to the children.”

“Why should I listen to these snot nosed brats?”

“Because even children have more common sense than you two. Also if you don’t listen I’ll just beat you both up until you agree.”

“YEAH! OUR MOM WILL BEAT YOU UP!” Hannah shouted.

“AND THEN OUR DAD WILL EAT YOU!” Adam added.

Hannah looked back at her brother, whispering. “Dad doesn’t eat people!”

He shrugged in response.  “They don’t know that.”

Selina stepped forward.

“First” She pointed at the hero. “Charles here is leaving to deal with assassin’s hired by his estranged father. They told him that if he doesn’t return home to take over the family business, they will have his love…” She pointed at Penny. “YOU… killed. He’s worried that if for some reason he doesn’t make it, that you would blame yourself. So he hopes to keep you in the dark, to protect you.”

“How did you know that?!” Charles burst out, and then looked chagrined as he realized he had confirmed her words.

“You really are trying to protect me? You’re not trying to trick or dump me?” Penny looked relieved.

“I’m sorry, Dear, I just was worried… I love you!”

“I love you too…”

PSST!

Selina sprayed Penny this time.

“What was that for?! We cleared the misunderstanding!” Penny wiped her face with hand, annoyed.

Hannah and Adam joined their sister.

“Oh really? You’ve talked about everything?”

“Not hiding any story-changing, unnecessary secrets?”

Penny paused, looking guilty. Charles panicked, holding her hand. “What is it? No matter what, we’ll face it together!”

“Like you were going to face your family?”

“… Sorry.”

“it’s okay. I’ve been hiding a secret too.” She glanced over at the three bright eyed children and their brandished water dispensers with a shudder. “...I’m pregnant.”

“…” Charles sat back, obviously shocked.

“I knew you wouldn’t be happy!” With a cry, Penny tried to run away.

PSST!

All three children sprayed her back down into her seat.

“Nice try, heroine, but avoiding difficult conversations and living in unnecessary misunderstandings isn’t gonna happen around us!” Hannah smiled, the expression strangely threatening for a child.

“Fine.” She timidly stared at the hero. “What are you thinking?”

Charles stood up, and wordlessly hugged Penny into his arms. “I love you!” He spun her around in a circle, and then panicked, setting her down gently. “I’m sorry! I picked you up while you’re pregnant! Is our baby okay?! Should I take you to the hospital?!”

Penny laughed. “Baby and I are fine.”

He hugged her again, this time very gently. “I won’t leave you. We’ll face everything: this pregnancy, our families… side by side.” He knelt down in front of her. “Marry me?”

“We’re already married?”

“That was an arranged marriage, let’s get married because WE want to!”

“YES!” The two hugged again, while the three children and Bel looked on approvingly, with polite applause.

“Not bad." Adam commented.

"Yeah, some good listening, some compromise…” Hannah added.

“They’re still both idiots.” Selina muttered under her breath, and then forced a smile. “I mean, good job!” She gave a halfhearted thumbs up, which the other two mimicked.

“Um… thanks.” The hero and heroine paused, staring confused at the three. “Who are you guys? And how do you know so much about us?”

The children took a fancy pose. “We’re the Hero Rehabilitation Unit! Although we’re missing our other brother who’s over there with our dad!” Hannah pointed at us. “He’s a big villain dragon and is awesome! Our Mom is an almighty inhuman existence that can travel to infinite worlds!”

“What…?

Bel pulled them away. “Just ignore us, and don’t keep secrets from each other from now on! Communication is the key to a healthy marriage!”

“Mom! You were supposed to pose with us!”

“I never agreed to that!”

I watched my wife argue with our children, once again feeling relieved again that she had taken this whole: having-four-children-at-once thing in stride. We hadn’t been sure what to expect, given our different natures. But four eggs all at once… was definitely still a shock.

After the hatching, we had moved back to the vampire world that we had been before. Selina the familiar was a godsend during those crazy first months. Watching her quip and sarcasm her way through four newborns, including her namesake, had been entertaining. Although her sense of humor definitely had rubbed off on the kids.

And now they have grown. However, being half-dragon, half-immortal System, they aged a bit slowly. At least they could all freely change between dragon and human forms since birth, unlike a full-blooded dragon like myself who could only change at adulthood.

Bel saw me staring, and gave me a smile. The love I saw in the expression made my heart beat faster. I loved my wife more every day. Although I HAD been worried at first, after the System and Adonis had been defeated. She and I both knew the deal I made, what I had done to follow her. I was terrified that she might leave me now that she knew everything. She could have shunned me, never saw me again, and I wouldn't have blamed her for it. Her response at the time, instead, had healed my fractured soul.

"When I look at you, Liam, I don't see a hero or a villain. You agreed to the System's deal, yes. You risked countless worlds, putting my safety in front of all of their lives. But if you hadn't, I would have failed, and the whole universe would still be heading for destruction. Some may judge us, some may agree with us. All I can say is, given the same choice as you... I would do the same."

I still felt guilty at times, but as I traveled the realms with my wife and children, saving worlds. I slowly made peace with the past. No one would be enslaved by fate again. We would save realms like my home world from destruction. Just like my grandfather wished, we lived out our days with joy and peace. I hoped our happiness would allow my grandfather's soul to rest.

I smiled back at Bel.

“Dad!” My son Kellen called my attention again. “You didn’t answer my question! Do you have a treasure?”

I smiled at him, and then nodded and pointed over at his mother, Bel.

My wife. My love. My heart. My home.

My treasure.

[trans-androgyne]

Wake the fuck up and support transmascs, now. We are hurting. We feel isolated. We feel invisible. We feel unheard. If you think we don’t have issues of our own you have not been listening to us. If you think we all have gendered privilege you have not been listening to us. You’ve probably seen stories cherry-picked from the most privileged and passing among us, and assume we tend to be like that or on that path. It is not true. You’ve probably seen our struggles downplayed and compared to transfems’ — almost always done without actually asking the diverse transmasc community — to say we have it easy. It is not true. We are entering the public eye in a very bad way. We are mistreated for our trans masculinity both inside and outside the queer community. We are at the highest risk for suicide and sexual assault but people assume we need fewer resources anyway. I’m the one who’s had to do everything for transmascs myself in my area. I cannot do this alone. Please for the love of any gods out there love and support transmascs before it’s too late. We are suffering too.

[catkindness]

a local man experiences consequences for the first time in his life

[femboyhorror]

"Oops, My Brother is Clinically Depressed!"

( a comic i doodled up based off of the end of chapter 3 of fisherman's knot by @scribefindegil a.k.a. a scene that has living in my lizard brain rent free since i read it. go check that story out of you haven't! i hope i did the scene justice! )

[floofanflurr]

I love this bean SO MUCH.

(Text in Post: I’ve known Frisk one day, and if anything happened to them, I’d kill everyone in this room and then myself.)

[yelena-bellova]

Not how I wanted to start my morning but when people say Swifties are crazy….

[rubberduckyrye]

LET'S GIVE IT EVERYTHING WE'VE GOT--

IT'S PUNISHMENT TIME!

His name is Kurochi Ouma. He just kicked the chair out from under him.

He is hanging by a noose that crushes his wind pipe, making him unable to breathe.

But in his final moments he realized all too late one crucial mistake--that he doesn't want to die. That he has things to live for.

He is the Ultimate Cryptographer. He is good at puzzle solving and mathematics. He is smart.

But smarts can't save him now. There are no ledges to stand on. There are no tools in his reach.

He tries and tries to solve the puzzle to save his own life. But he fails. This maze of Sudoku will be his tomb.

He wants to live. He wants to live. He wants to l i v e.

But it's too late.

He's already kicked the chair from under him.

[idkmanwtfishumanityanymore]

GOOOOOOOOOOOD EVENING DWELLERS OF TUMBLR AND TSBS FANS ALIKE! I JUST FINISHED COOKIN’ UP A NEW ESSAY. HOPE Y’ALL CAN TOLERATE HEAT, CAUSE THIS ONES GONNA BE SPICY

FIRST FUCKING OFF, USING THEM AS CLICKBAIT? AGAIN? REALLY? WOOOOOOOW GREAT TO SEE YOU’VE LEARNED NOTHING. GREAT TO SEE Y’ALL DON’T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT THE FANBASE.

SECOND OFF, OHOHOHOHO BOY. HOLD MY MENTOS GUM AND SPRITE, BECAUSE THIS IS GONNA GET FUCKING UGLY.

OKAY SO LIKE 2 MINTUES IN YOU’RE DRILLING IT INTO EVERYONE THAT THE TWINS ARE “IRREDEEMABLE”, WHEN AS I’VE SAID BEFORE, THEY FUCKING AREN’T. WE *SAW* THAT THEY COULD HAVE HAD ATLEAST A CHANCE WHEN THEY LIVED WITH FOXY AND FC.

AND YOU’RE SAYING THAT BLOODMOON HAVING A CODE WITHIN THEM THAT *MADE* THEM *NEED* TO KILL AND CONSUME BLOOD, WHICH IS ALREADY CANONICALLY ESTABLISHED SEVERAL *FUCKING* TIMES, IS A HEADCANON WE MADE UP???? WHAT???

OH AND DON’T EVEN GET ME *STARTED* ON ECLIPSES WHOLE “I made them to cause chaos” BULLSHIT. YOU MADE THEM, *FOR KILLING*. I IMPLORE ANYONE READING TO PULL UP THE RECEIPTS FOR THESE, BECAUSE THEY *FUCKING EXIST,* AND STITCHWRAITH HAD THE *GALL* TO SAY “THEY’LL ACCUSE US OF RETCONNING”, OF COURSE WE’LL SAY YOU’RE RETCONNING WHEN *LITERALLY* FUCKING *ARE.*

I’D HAVE REALLY THOUGHT YOU’D STOP BEING *DICKS* TO YOUR COMMUNITY AFTER WE COLLECTIVELY CAME TOGETHER TO PROTEST LAES BEING TERMINATED, BUT NOOOOOOOOOOO.

THIS WHOLE EPISODE WAS JUST THEM SHITTING ON US, EITHER BY SHITTING ON OUR THEORIES, OR JUST SHITTING ON US IN GENERAL, THEY WERE JUST BEING DICKS TO THEIR ENTIRE COMMUNITY, NOT *JUST* BLOODMOON DEFENDERS THIS TIME.

BACK TO THE BLOODMOON TOPIC THOUGH, ECLIPSE SWID THAT THIS PODCAST WAS OF “IRREDEEMABLE VILLAINS”, SO WHY THE *FUCK* IS HE THERE WHEN HE’S *HAD* A CANON REDEMPTION ARC? WHY IS STITCHWRAITH THERE WHEN THEY GOT A HINTED AT REDEMPTION OF SORTS BY SAVING FOXY AND FC?? WHY ARE 2 VILLAINS WHO’VE CANONICALLY HAD SOME FORM OF REDEEMING QUALITY, ON A PODCAST OF “IRREDEEMABLE VILLAINS”, BUT STILL SAY THAT BLOODMOON IS COMPLETELY IRREDEEMABLE?

PAIRING THEM WITH THE OTHER ACTUALLY REDEEMED OR SEMI-REDEEMABLE CHARACTERS JUST *PROVES OUR POINT.*

THE TWINS, COULD HAVE BEEN, REDEEMED. MUST I REMIND EVERYONE THAT BLOODY COMPLETELY *BROKE* INSIDE WHEN HIS BROTHER DIED? DOES ANYONE WHO CAN BE SO UTTERLY BROKEN AND NUMB FROM A LOSS, REALLY COUNT AS IRREDEEMABLE?

FROM WHAT I’VE RESEARCHED, (AND YES. I DO FUCKING RESEARCH ON THIS SHIT), IRREDEEMABLE MEANS THEY HAVE *ZERO* REDEEMING QUALITIES, NONE, NADA, ZILCH.

BEING UTTERLY AND COMPLETELY BROKEN OVER THE LOSS OF A LOVED ONE, IS NOT WHAT WOULD BE IN AN “IRREDEEMABLE VILLIAN”, BECAUSE HAVING ANY REDEEMING QUALITIES, *MAKES THEM REDEEMABLE.*

TELL ME, READERS, WHEN YOU THINK OF A COMPLETELY IRREDEEMABLE, DISGUSTING, HORRIBLE VILLAIN, DO YOU THINK OF;

A: Someone with no remorse, no sympathy or empathy, no attachment to anyone, and just a pure drive to torment and slaughter

OR

B: Someone who is completely and utterly SHATTERED by the loss of a loved one, to the point they begin to lose themself, lose the will to live, and actively TRY to die. Someone who can and DOES feel sympathy and empathy, but only for people they care about?

Me personally, from my research, A IS IRREDEEMABLE, AND B IS REDEEMABLE.

GUESS WHICH ONE IS FUCKING B???

BLOODMOON.

I WILL NOT BE SILENCED. I WILL NOT TOLERATE BEING TREATED (even if not PERSONALLY) LIKE I’M *CRAZY* FOR DEFENDING A CLEARLY REDEEMABLE CHARACTER.

I WILL NOT TOLERATE THEM BACKTRACKING AND RETCONNING PRE-ESTABLISHED LORE JUST TO FIT THEIR *OWN PREFERENCES*

while sure, some may argue; “These are *their* characters, *their* story, and *they’re* the ones in control of it, not us!”

THAT DOESN’T GIVE THEM THE RIGHT TO FLAT OUT CLAIM WE’RE MENTALLY UNSTABLE FOR DEFENDING A FICTIONAL CHARACTER WHO JUST SO HAPPENS TO BE A MURDER HOBO.

I, AND MANY OTHERS, ARE FUCKING *SICK* OF BEING CALLED CRAZY, UNSTABLE, MENTALLY DERANGED, INSANE, ETC, FOR DEFENDING A FICTIONAL CHARACTER, WHOSE WORST CRIME IS A BODY COUNT IN THE THOUSANDS.

PEOPLE DEFEND CHARACTERS WITH WORSE CRIMES ALL THE TIME, AND SURE THE FANBASE ITSELF CALLS THEM (rightfully, especially if they’re defending a character whose S/A’d people before) CRAZY, BUT DO THE CREATORS CALL THEM CRAZY? NO? BUT THE WRITERS HERE CAN CALL US DERANGED FOR DEFENDING A COMPLETELY FICTIONAL MURDERER?

THE MATH, ISN’T, MATHING.

THEY JUST DON’T WANT TO HAVE TO ADMIT THAT THEY DESTROYED A CHARACTER WITH POTENTIAL TO BE A BETTER PERSON, BECAUSE THEY COULD. BECAUSE THEY DON’T CARE HOW IT’LL AFFECT THEIR FANBASE. BECAUSE THEY DON’T CARE THAT PEOPLE WILL RIGHTFULLY BOYCOTT THEIR CHANNEL AND SCREW THEIR “BUSINESS”.

IT’S FURTHER PROVEN THAT THEY’RE JUST MAKING UP FOR THEIR MISTAKES AS SHITTY WRITERS, BY THROWING THE TWINS AT US IN THE MOST CLICKBAITY WAY POSSIBLE AND ESSENTIALLY SAYING; “HERE TAKE YOUR FAVORITE CHARACTER AND SHUT UP ALREADY”.

This concludes my… *calculating how long it took me to write this bc of how many breaks I had to take from being livid* overnight essay about the recent clickbait usage of BloodMoon and the writers “justification” of their actions via retconning. Eat up, feel free to add on, I’m gonna go fucking die now.

(For legal reasons, by die, I mean sleep because of how mentally draining this whole ordeal is and consistently will be until they fix their fuck ups or atleast admit to it.)

[cringelordofchaos]

Anyway I was watching season 1 and I like how Stan really can't get himself to kill anyone (like any other sane eight year old) meanwhile Kyle is almost always down to murder whenever possible☠️ what is wrong with him lmao

more emotional Stan version (wasn't sure if it was too ooc or nah but I drew it anyway)

[bellysoupset]

Jonah was fast asleep, dreaming even, when he heard a little noise, that sounded like a cry. He frowned in his sleep, until the mewl turned into a voice and he heard a sleepy, whiny "Jon. Jonah, wake up-" he forced his eyes open, rubbing at them, still dizzy with sleep.

"Ange-" Jonah looked around the room. It was the middle of the night, and their shared hotel room was dark still. Angie was sitting up in the bed opposite to him, a pink silk bonnet on top of her head, and a frown between her brows, "what..."

"Your phone is ringing nonstop," she yawned, settling back down against the pillows and closing her eyes, "turn it off."

Jon was suddenly much more awake.

He had been trying, and failing, not to be clingy. Twenty four hours without hearing from Leo was fine, right? Since they had this huge time difference between them...? Sure, Leo had been ignoring even his texts, but it was just 24 hours-

Jonah's mood tanked as he grabbed his phone and saw four missed calls, but not from Leo. Lucas.

He was Luke's emergency contact, had been most of his life, and Jonah felt a wave of nausea wash over him. He sat up in bed, squinting at the too bright screen. It was 4:34 AM, so a little past 10 PM for Luke. Not a social call.

Jon hit the return call button and got up, walking to the bathroom in order not to wake up Angie with his voice, shutting the door behind him.

It rang and rang, then Bella picked it up, "hi, Jon," she sounded very awake, "I'm gonna get Luke for you, just a minute."

Straight to the point, he loved that about Bell.

"He's okay?"

"Luke? Yeah, he's fine," Bella sounded distracted and Jonah pulled back the phone, clicking the camera icon and rubbing at his face. Bella picked it up and Jon immediately frowned.

She was inside Luke's car, he could tell by the ceiling and the beige details, her hair up in a messy mop of curls and she was wearing one of her husband's old team hoodies, their university letters brightly displayed against her chest. It was the middle of the night, like he predicted and there was a bright light coming from outside the window-

"Where are you? What's going on, Bella?"

"Outside the grocery store," Bella yawned, "we're heading to your place. Wendy called me, about... An hour ago? Something happened with Leo, I don't know- HE'S OKAY," she exclaimed, probably seeing the way Jonah paled and how he nearly dropped the phone, "he's okay. He's home, but something happened and I don't know what, just that you need to come home. That's why Luke was calling."

"Did- Did Wendy tell Lucas?" Jonah was more than a little confused. He was Wendy's best friend, why didn't she just...call him? About Leo? Why call Luke- That sounded convoluted and messy.

There was a noise, the rain getting louder, paper bags and then the door closing, then Luke appeared on the screen, rain running down his hair, "hi-hi Jon-" his teeth chattered and Bella passed him the phone, moving away from the screen, probably to turn on the heater, "We-Wendy ca-ca-"

"Why did she call you and not me? Luke, what's going on, I'm freaking out-"

"She-she said Leo made her promise not to call you," Luke planted the phone in the car's dashboard, rubbing his hands vigorously to warm them up, "but that he needs you ho-home. Something to do with his mom...?"

Jonah felt sick. His head was spinning, the words he needs you home turning and turning in his head.

"His mom...? I thought- What? His mom? Are you sure you heard that right?" He leaned heavily against the door and heard as Luke repeated his words.

"I'm sure," Lucas' voice was calmer now that he wasn't trembling, "she needed to leave for her hospital shift and asked us to go over to your place. Said Leo shouldn't be alone."

Fuck.

If nothing had scared him yet, this certainly would. This meant Wendy was putting Leo under watch... That she thought he was a danger to himself?

"Jonah, hey," Bella's voice cut through the ringing noise in his ears, "nothing is going to happen with him. We're going over, we're not gonna let him out of our sight and you'll be here soon. I promise you, we got this."

"Yeah," Lucas agreed, "You're still in Amsterdam, right?"

"Yes-" How did Luke even know- Angie. He probably was keeping contact with Angelina, she had mentioned they texted.

"There's a flight leaving from Schiphol in two hours, I got you two tickets," Lucas was in his full project manager role, "tell Angie to text me, I'll figure out her staying over situation."

"She can-" he was about to say she can stay with me, before he realized Luke was very purposefully making it clear she couldn't, "okay. I'll talk with her. I- Fuck," his voice trembled and Jonah let go off his phone on top of the sink, bracing against it as he took measured breaths.

There was a deafening silence, safe for his heart beating like crazy. Jonah's head was spinning and he forced the air slowly out of his mouth, swallowing forcefully when the motion nearly turned into a gag.

He coughed and heard Luke cursing, his voice muffled since the phone was on top of a towel. Jonah cleared his throat, swallowing down and splashing some cool water. Lucas and Bell wouldn't be calling that calmly if Leo was in real danger. Nope.

"You get there and you keep me updated. I'm serious, I want every fucking detail, I wanna know what socks he's wearing," Jonah bossed, picking up the phone once more. Bella offered him a tight smile, while Luke nodded, not even questioning it.

"Absolutely. Have a safe flight."

-------------------------------------

Leo knew Wendy had called Bella, which meat she had called Lucas, which meant Vince knew, which meant Jonah either already knew by now or was going to very soon.

He glanced at clock in the microwave. 11 PM. It was 5 AM in Amsterdam, hopefully none of his friends had decided to wake up Jon in a panic in the middle of the night. Hopefully.

"I'm sorry, I really have to go, but they should be here in ten minutes," Wendy's voice drifted down the hallway and Leo looked away from his Tostitos turning around in the microwave, "are you gonna be okay? I-Just say the word-"

"Wendy," Leo leveled her with a fond, but exasperated look, "go. You're already late."

She frowned, crossing her arms to her chest and Leo stared back at her, not intimidated in the least. He turned so his body was facing her, "I'm not gonna jump out of the balcony in the ten minutes it'll take Luke and Bell to get here. I promise, pinky promise."

"Good," Wendy squinted at him, "would be a dick move to jump, you'd probably land right on top of their car."

Leo let out a snort at the dark humor and Wendy's eyes softened a little bit. She was wearing borrowed clothes from his closet, not having let him out of her sight since last night and she looked ridiculous. His sweater was basically a dress on her, even if she was using her heels.

He wanted to say this was all incredibly unnecessary, that he didn't need a nanny, was a grown man and sure, it had been a shock, but he was fine- But Leo knew better than that. He had spent a grand total of forty minutes on his own while showering and those forty minutes had been all his brain needed to go down a very dark spiraling route.

Amelia's confused face as she asked "I'm sorry, have we met?"

He couldn't get that out of his mind, coming back like a splash of acid in his throat whenever he breathed in too deeply. Edward's Leo?

"Sweetheart," Wendy was suddenly much closer and Leo blinked quickly, shaking his head.

"I'm okay, go on, your supervisor will be upset if you're even more late," behind him the microwave stopped humming gently and started beeping. Wendy was frowning, looking terribly worried, but she nodded, walking at a snail pace to the door.

He wanted to thank her, but Leo instead just stared at the empty spot where she had been standing. Everything felt... Hard. Like he was moving through molasses, like he was that scared kid back home who used to sit in his bedroom floor and struggle to breathe against that sharp pain in the center of his chest.

JD meowed at him and Leo frowned as she got on her hindlegs and pawed at his knee. Another meow.

"What?"

She blinked those huge blue eyes, seeming annoyed and he crunched down to pet her, then didn't have any energy to get back up and decided to rest against the kitchen cabinets. His cat shoved her head against his chin, rubbing and meowing.

She wanted something, he just wasn't sure what. When he tried to pet her again, JD bit him. Not hard enough to break skin, just to let him know something was wrong and for him to stop.

Leo pouted, "what?" he repeated and only then he heard the knocking on the front door. Ah, she probably wanted him to make it stop.

"Leo?!" Luke's voice was strikingly clear through the door and Leo wondered how he hadn't heard until now. He unlocked the door and before he could say much more, Bella's arms were around his neck and she was pulling him down into a tight hug.

He stiffened for a second, before Bella yanked at him, not even accepting him pulling back and Leo melted into the hug. He buried his face in her curls and then let out a little muffled groan as he felt Lucas envelop them both into his arms.

"What happened?" Bella asked, when they finally pulled back, crouching down to pick up JD from the floor and plant a kiss between her ears, as Luke brought the frankly worryingly amount of groceries inside. Were they planning to stay the week or did they just assume Leo didn't know how to stock a fridge?

"Where do I start?"

"From the beginning," Bella shut the door, leaning against it.

Not much longer they were all in the living room, Leo as curled up in the couch as he could, with JD snuggled against his stomach, and a knot pressing against his throat as he finished up the short tale of what had been that encounter. He hoped Luke was enough of a gossip he'd pass it down in details to Vince, because Leo could not fathom saying it a fourth time, assuming he'd have to tell Jon as well.

"How are you?" Luke asked, squeezing Leo's ankle. He was sitting by his foot and moving closer inch by inch, "honestly."

"A mess?" Leo snorted, burying his feet under Luke's thigh, "I'm not sad or angry, I just feel... Defeated. Empty."

Raw.

It was an insanely familiar feeling and it had taken Leo a minute to place it, it was exactly what he felt at his father's funeral. A mix of relief and anger and sadness that churned up in a feeling so overwhelming it numbed everything else. Grief.

He had hated that man so much, wished his dad was dead many times, and when it happened, he felt guilty and scared for and of himself. Who wished for the death of a parent? Who felt relief when it happened? And there was the love too. Those little, tiny moments he had cherished next to Edward, that had gotten far and more sparse as the years passed. The anger, because how dare his father end it like that. The lack of thought of it all, about who'd find him - his seventeen year old son -, about the trauma he was about to inflict... And more guilt, because how dare Leo be so self absorbed to make Edward's death about himself.

It was overwhelming.

"Jonah's coming," Bella's voice was loud and clear, silver bells pulling Leo from his dark thoughts. He looked up, noticing how she had moved from the opposite couch, to sit in the coffee table, as close as she could without climbing on the couch him and Luke were currently occupying, "and we're not going anywhere. And-" she cut herself short, looking at Luke, asking him to put into words what she couldn't.

Luke was looking at him intently, as he said in a measured voice, "it wasn't your fault she left. You were a kid, there was nothing you could've done."

Leo's chest jostled with a sob, then another, then another and he folded in the middle as Luke addressed word by word a fear that was longer than their friendship, an insecurity so deep it was etched in his bones: that he wasn't good enough. That if they got close enough, stuck around for long enough, they'd see what Amelia and Edward did, whatever rotten thing it was that made one of them run, the other decide to end it all.

Lucas moved, getting down from the couch and scooting closer on the rug, until he could touch his forehead with his, pressing in "hey," he whispered, "we got you. We love you."

[macgyvermedical]

Hi Mac! Haven't got a specific question about your mental health issues, but would gladly read anything you'd like to share about it. Wish you the best with it, it sure sounds like a combination of things that would feed into each other.

Thank you!

Not entirely sure how to answer but will do my best.

The symptoms I have:

Irritability/agitation (severe without medication)

Visual hallucinations (mild without medication)

Anxiety (severe without medication)

Delusions (moderate without medication)

The irritability is the most difficult to deal with, followed by the delusions (which cause a lot of the anxiety, cause they're usually something like I'm being shot at or I have a severe health problem no one can know about or my coworkers are trying to get me fired), followed in a distant last place by the visual hallucinations, which happen mostly at night.

Despite being diagnosed with psychotic depression, I do not feel like I have the depression part. I not infrequently want to die but I don't actually feel depressed about it? It's complicated. It's more really severe agitation where I feel like I have to hold myself back from doing something deadly to myself and that's really difficult sometimes.

While I'm having a delusion I have trouble understanding that that's what's happening, but I'm lucky in that I usually have an inkling that what I'm thinking is not entirely right, even if I don't know what to do with that inkling or even recognize that that's what it is.

For example, I tend to feel the presence of someone else in my house even when there's no one there. When I used to live alone I would hear footsteps at night and combined with feeling a presence be convinced someone was there. My brain fleshed that out to mean that someone was living in my apartment that I could never "catch". I would go look and not be able to to find them, but I could always think of a reason why.

I knew that since I could never catch the person anyone I told would think I was crazy. So I didn't tell anyone at the time. But it wasn't because it was ridiculous that someone else would be living in my 500 sqft apartment with me without me knowing. It was because other people would think I was crazy if I said anything.

More recently, while I was at the hospital, I thought my wife had put me there so that she would have someone to take care of. But by that point I realized I wasn't sure I could just trust everything that came into my head so I wasn't sure what to think about that, even though it was really hard to get the thought out of my head. Plus my brain could always find a reason why everyone else was going along with her, even if they don't make sense now.

My hallucinations are mostly at night, like I said. I see shadows that aren't there and I see things run across the road if I'm driving in the dark. This really isn't a problem unless I'm driving at night. They don't scare me but they do make it harder and less safe to drive.

The anxiety was the first thing I sought help for, and an SSRI worked for me, but didn't get rid of the irritability/agitation. I then went on a third generation antipsychotic called aripiprazole, which worked amazingly well for the irritability, except that I gained 50lb and my cholesterol and blood sugar went up pretty significantly within about a year. I switched to a different 3rd generation and nothing changed, so I switched to a first generation, lost 5lb and my numbers went back to normal pretty much a month later.

The first generation antipsychotic haloperidol was also the first time I realized that the third generation meds were doing very little for my actual psychosis symptoms. For the first time in at least 5 (but probably closer to 15) years, I was thinking more clearly and making better decisions. I had an easier time prioritizing things. I wasn't distracted by hallucinations and I suddenly just didn't have delusions or strange thoughts to deal with. I no longer felt the presence of someone who wasn't there. Plus the agitation was cut way down.

My wife says it was like I did a complete 180 in how easy it was to talk to me and for us to make decisions together once I was on the haloperidol.

I am still waiting on my mix of meds to be more correct (haloperidol makes me really sleepy at doses that take care of the psychosis), especially when combined with clonidine (which I take for agitation) and gabapentin (which I take for anxiety). I am also waiting on counseling to really start (I'm only getting it about once a month right now because of scheduling and availability issues).

But yeah. That's kind of my experience right now.

[onehundredandeleventropicalfish]

getting emotional about the last issue of sandman again (cw for major comic spoilers, discussion of suicidal thoughts)

because like. so we learn pretty early on what dream's deal with shakespeare was, allowing him better access to his creative potential in return for two plays, and we know this because we get midsummer night's dream, which was commissioned by dream for the actual titania as a parting gift before the faeries left earth forever

but we don't learn the second play until right at the end, after dream is dead, after the funeral, after sunday mourning and exiles, both of which make really beautiful endings to the story in their own right

the second play is the tempest. and there's a lot of the play that neil gaiman quotes in this issue, but i'll focus on the specific two that shakespeare reads aloud

the first is our obvious one - prospero's address at his daughter's wedding.

Be cheerful, sir. Our revels now are ended. These our actors, as I foretold you, were all spirits and are melted into air, into thin air. And like the baseless fabric of this vision, the cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces, the solemn temples, the great globe itself, ye all which it inherit, shall dissolve, and like this insubstantial pageant faded, leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep.

it's a beautiful passage, and exactly what to put at the end of this story - prospero is reminding everyone that stories are just stories, they aren't real and can't hurt anyone, but also they are the one thing that lives forever. humans are shaped and formed by our dreams, by our stories, we come from them, and in the end, we return to them.

now, prospero is the character we focus on in this issue. because there's a three-way parallel here between dream and prospero and shakespeare himself.

dream and shakespeare have both lost their sons, were both irreparably changed by that. both regret decisions they've made in their lives, and wish to leave the path they've found for themselves, but don't feel they can - their responsibilities are too great, they have no choice but to be what they were born to be. both wonder what might have happened in a world where things were different, but they know that could never have been

and prospero is the balm to that. prospero has made mistakes in his life, he's in several ways the antagonist of this story, but at the end, he gets to put it all aside. his daughter lives, and is happy. he gives up his magic - the source of his power, but also his suffering - and abandons his role, leaves the island he'd been ruling for decades. and this is his happy ending.

when shakespeare asks dream why this play, why he wanted that ending, instead of some great tragedy or drama, something more fit for a king, dream responds "because i will never leave my island."

and we see throughout the issue that that was personal to shakespeare too, it was a wish fullfilment for both of them.

but then we get to the epilogue, the second quote i'm focusing on. because shakespeare doesn't know how to end the play, until he has that conversation with dream.

this is the tempest's epilogue, in full:

Now my charms are all o'erthrown/And what strength I have’s mine own/Which is most faint. Now, ’tis true/I must be here confined by you/Or sent to Naples. Let me not/Since I have my dukedom got/And pardoned the deceiver, dwell/In this bare island by your spell/But release me from my bands/With the help of your good hands.

Gentle breath of yours my sails/Must fill, or else my project fails/Which was to please. Now I want/Spirits to enforce, art to enchant/And my ending is despair/Unless I be relieved by prayer/Which pierces so that it assaults/Mercy itself and frees all faults.

As you from crimes would pardoned be/Let your indulgence set me free.

like most shakespeare epilogues, it's a direct address to the audience, talking about the play. prospero is asking forgiveness from the audience for all he did wrong, but then reminding them that he's only human, don't we all want to be forgiven? and after all, all of this was just a story. he only wanted to create something for you. so applaud the ending, tell him it was worth it, and only with your permission can he finish the story, and finally leave.

and that's the thing, about dream's particular brand of suicidal thoughts. being dream of the endless has been weighing on him for centuries, if not millenia, he longs for an escape, but he knows he can't. when they see it's breaking him his siblings try and convince him to leave, like destruction did, but it's not in him to abandon the dreaming like that.

and that amount of responsibility, of staying alive because you owe it to other people - it's a relief, then, when a battle comes along that's too great for you to face, but there's also a lot of guilt in it. because he gave up. and he knows he did. letting the kindly ones win was the most selfish decision he's ever made

and you might say, well, he's dead, he doesn't have to face it, but that's not wholly true. because all three of the last issues deal with some version of dream after death.

there's the dream of him hob has in sunday mourning, which isn't the true dream, he's dead, except of course it is dream, because he was only ever made of dreams anyway, so does it really matter whether it's real or not?

in exiles the protagonist talks to both morpheus and daniel in the desert, and for dream this was two very different time periods, but to the man crossing the desert, they happened simultaneously, so if time can be warped like that in dreams, who's to say that the ripples of morpheus won't continue long into the future?

and then we have the tempest. dream has appeared after death as a dream, as a mirage, and finally, in perhaps his truest form, as a story.

when dream said he will never leave his island, shakespeare reminds him that all men can change. and this is the fatal flaw of dream - he doesn't see himself as a man, as a person, as anything but the entity which must fulfill his function. he tells shakespeare that men have stories, men change - he does not

and when we end this entire 75 issue run with the epilogue from the tempest, dream is prospero. even after death he's still reckoning with the guilt of making that decision. even now, he won't allow himself that freedom.

and that's the reminder, that all of this was just a story - dream's story. the reader is a character in sandman, all of this was created for us. did he manage to create something beautiful enough, despite the pain? can he be forgiven for the decisions he made along the way? if eventually he gave up, does that make all the time he fought so hard for meaningless?

and he can't be free of the story until we answer that all important question - was it worth it?

to which the answer can only be of course it was.

[tenderleavesbob]

The thought first occurred to Warriors during the war. Everyone told him that the war wasn't his fault and at the beginning of the war, he even believed it. He kept believing it until he met Cia in person at last. It was hard to believe anything or in anything after that.

Princess Zelda tried to comfort him afterwards but she was better at taking action than words. She liked to fix things with her own hands. Neither of them knew how to fix something which couldn't be killed with a sword.

General Impa had some of the words, enough for Warriors to know that she had dealt with something like this before. It made him feel a little better and more humiliated at the same time. It made it clear that she knew exactly what happened to him. Worse: it was clear that she knew what he was thinking.

As the war continued and traitors arose through their own choices and Ghirahim's magic, Warriors couldn't fight the thought anymore. The war was his fault. Maybe some of those traitors were right. Maybe there would be no war if there was no war prize.

More than anything, it was the thought of Mask and Tune which kept Warriors fighting. No one knew if Cia would turn to them if she lost him. Warriors would stand and raise his sword every day for the rest of his life rather than risk it. Better he be the war prize than them.

After the war, it was harder. Princess Zelda and General Impa were there but everyone else was gone. Mask and Tune were gone. The loneliness was stifling and the whispers in his mind were deafening without his friends to block them out. He was alone. His battle was done. The Master Sword was returned, and despite Zelda's best attempts, Warriors felt like a symbol at best, a war prize at worst.

When the portal opened and Warriors was reunited with Time and Wind and met the others, he thought it would be better. He had his loved ones back. He had a purpose again. Everything was supposed to be okay.

He was wrong.

Why did he still feel like this? Warriors wrapped his arms around his legs and rested his forehead against his knees. They were at Twilight's village and his brother was ecstatic. He was off showing everyone else his home, and Warriors was hiding in Twilight's treehouse home. He should be with his brothers but was instead doing this.

Everyone was stressed. This was their first real stop in weeks. The number of black-blooded monsters seemed to have increased in the last month. This stop seemed like a gift from the Three.

Warriors knew his role. He knew he should be with his brothers, encouraging Twilight and asking questions, goading the others to laugh, reminding Time to rest his burdens for a moment. Warriors knew the importance of these rest periods and the best ways to take advantage of them to return refreshed to the battlefield.

He should be with them. He should be fine. Why was he like this?

Warriors dug his nails into his scalp and ground his forehead into his knees. It hurt and sometimes, pain snapped him out of it. Sometimes, he purposefully sought pain just for relief from these thoughts. It felt better for skin and bone to hurt rather than whatever was happening inside him.

"Make it stop," he whispered. Warriors needed it to stop or at least quiet enough so he could join his brothers.

Warriors knew one way for it to stop. One way for it to stop forever.

He whimpered quietly. Impa told him not to trust his thoughts in these moments. She warned him that they would spiral, and if he allowed it, he would drown in the whirlpool. He knew his thoughts were bullshit. He knew it.

His brothers loved him. He was needed. Queen Zelda would notice if he never came back. His friends would notice if he didn't return from this quest.

If Warriors kept telling himself that, he might even believe it.

"Warriors."

Warriors tensed. His breathing sped up. Oh Goddess. Not Legend. He didn't want any of the others catching him like this, but not the Veteran.

"Warriors. Hey. Hey. Can you look at me?"

Legend, who had gone through so many adventures and was still going, still fighting, and he did it all younger than Warriors. As if Warriors needed more reminding that --

"Link!"

Warriors's breath caught and he choked on it. He coughed into his knees and trembled. His head ached.

Legend knelt beside him, the protective concern in his eyes like a knife through Warriors's chest. He couldn't remember Legend ever looking at him like that. "Hey," Legend repeated. "I need you to breathe for me. In and out. Nice and slow." He reached out and gently took Warriors's hands in his own. They were thin and scarred and strong. Warriors felt guilty for it but clutched his hands, anyway. His scalp hurt where he had been grabbing it. "Breathe with me."

Warriors felt foolish and weak, but he obeyed. He was good at following orders. He breathed in slowly and matched Legend's breath. His eyes burned but the pain in his chest slowly began to recede.

"Good," Legend murmured. "Thank you. Keep breathing with me."

Legend squeezed his hands, and Warriors desperately clutched Legend's hands back. Anything to keep from flying away.

"I'm here with you," Legend said softly. The tenderness on his face made Warriors want to cry. "You're okay."

He was okay. Warriors repeated that to himself and held it to his heart like an anchor. He was okay. This would pass. It always would.

What broke him and made Warriors weep wasn't the gentleness in Legend's eyes but the understanding.

The only thing worse than feeling this way was the possibility that one of his brothers had felt like this, too.

[dont-f-with-moogles]

The Envelope

Characters: Dazai x Reader Word count: 937 words Osamu Dazai is one of the regulars at the café where you work. Whilst conversations with him are never dull, your tireless to-and-fro often takes you away from the subject of his ever-growing tab. Instead, you are forced to sidestep his constant invitations into a ‘lover’s suicide’ and remind him that such a pursuit can be accomplished alone by any individual in possession of a good life insurance policy. If anything, the living spouse would then at least profit financially. And yet, Dazai neither seems satisfied with your responses nor deterred in his efforts to change your mind.

One day, at the end of a long shift, you were approaching the double doors, keys in hand, when Dazai slouched past the glass. Startled, you opened one door to admit him. It had been some time since he had visited the café and the lateness of the hour only added to your sense of trepidation.

“Just thought I’d stop by… I’m sure you missed me!” he called out jovially. As he perched upon one of stools which lined the counter, you set your ring of keys down noisily.

“Oh, I made do with the customers who actually pay their bills,” you snapped back at him. Your hands flexed at your sides; suddenly you wished you still had something to occupy them with. “Still, it has been a while. I saw on the news that there were arrest warrants out for the ADA…”

“It was horrible,” Dazai agreed mournfully. “Prison was the worst! My cell was tiny, the company was just dreadful and don’t even get me started on the food!”

There was always something so captivating about his performance, even if that’s all it ever was; an act. And yet, the dull, monochrome day-to-day was flooded with colour in his presence. For one so preoccupied with death, he possessed the singular ability to rouse the world around him into life. Hearing his voice after all those weeks was enough to lift your lips into a shy smile. Despite yourself, your earlier resolve was already crumbling. With an effort, you tore your eyes away from his own.

“Look Dazai, it’s closing time and I need to get home. How about I make you a coffee to go? Consider this one - and only this one - on the house. I guess it's the least I can do after everything you’ve been through.” Fumbling, you laid down a fresh filter and sprinkled in several, hasty spoonfuls of ground coffee.

“Actually…” Dazai drummed his fingertips upon the counter. “…I’m here to ask you out.”

The handle of the kettle almost slipped from your grasp.

“I know, I know!” he waved away your protests before you had even uttered them, “…but hear me out, just once more will you? I’ve been preparing for this moment you know!” To add further mystery to his words, he slid an unmarked envelope across the bar. “I even asked around for advice on what to say to you!” Dazai leaned back so luxuriously on his stool that you were certain he would fall. Quickly, he righted himself. “That being said, my cell mate was nothing short of psychotic. He insisted that I get you fired from your job and isolate you from your loved ones so then you’d have no choice but to crawl to me!”

“Wow. What a romantic.” Somehow, you managed to flatten the tremor in your voice. It was fortunate that, by now, the rich coffee decoction had dripped down into the lower basin, for you were able to occupy yourself with an open cupboard. You made a performance of retrieving a fresh takeaway cup before he could notice the warmth in your cheeks.

"So…” Turned away from him, you smiled down into the empty cup. “...you were thinking about me whilst you were in there…?”

”…of course. And, whilst I didn’t take that man’s advice… I did come prepared.“

Finally connecting his statement to the white envelope, you placed the items down and returned his attention.

"Six months’ tab paid up.” Dazai winked roguishly. “Plus tips.”

“Who did you rob?” You turned the paper over in your hands, conscious of the deepening flush upon your face.

He laughed. “Would that matter to you?”

In answer, you placed the envelope over on the other side of the counter.

“I guess in the end, it wasn’t so hard to figure out what to say.” Dazai rose, hands stowed in the pockets of his trench coat. “I just had to prove to you that I’m a man of my word…” He nodded and, taking up the coffee you had made for him, turned to leave.

As Dazai approached the doors, he spoke again. His voice was losing its theatrical quality with every word. It was as though he was breaking character; opening up to reveal some hidden quality. There was something new there; something nervous, tentative, sincere. “…I’m also doing a little better now, I think. Maybe, someday, I’ll die with a beautiful woman… but first, first we’ll live.” He gave a small sigh. And, with that, he raised the cup in a brief gesture of farewell.

“Wait-”

Dazai glanced back over his shoulder, eyebrows lifted in interest.

“Maybe… this time, I’ll let you take me somewhere…” You were untying the white bow of your apron with clumsy fingers. “There’s just one condition…”

He opened his mouth to reply but you interrupted with a raised hand.

”…I’m not heading anywhere near the riverside with you, got it?”

He laughed. Then, pushing his palm against the glass, he held the door open to the fading evening light.

Part 2 (NSFW)

[genshin-impact-updates]

Character Teaser - "Wanderer: Ashes" | Genshin Impact

When we place our hopes in something that does not belong to us, we doom ourselves to despair.

But if despair does not lead to destruction, something new will rise from the ashes.

[glitteringcrab]

Deus Ex Machina

Season 2, Episode 3: "Auto-erotic assimilation"

Okay, we all remember this thing, right?

Or maybe you remember what it looked like when ALL of its parts were in use:

And the yellow liquid Rick poured on the poor creature (and drank himself) before using the machine was supposedly to synchronize (and kill) all versions of himself according to the creators' commentary (if it isn't something they simply made up on the spot during the recording).

Season 6, Episode 7: "Full Meta JackRick"

Morty puts on his meta goggles and... uh...

UM... WHAT????