#I'd uh go to therapy instead

[strelitzia-mystery1097]

Cloud 'needs so much therapy that it isn't funny' Strife

*spoilers* for Ff7 Rebirth.

So Sephiroth really is trying to break Cloud more than in the original.

To start off, Sephiroth tries to make Cloud think that Tifa wasn't Tifa. That she was fake.

Why would he do that?

Answer: Because she's the one to piece together Cloud's memories. If Cloud can't trust her than he can't trust her account.

He also does his usual tricks of 'Black Materia', 'Puppet', 'Reunion', ect.

But Cloud this time around is constantly getting harassed and manipulated by Sephiroth, like way more than in the OG. Cloud also is coming to different conclusions and ideas from the OG like for example, he's degrading. He thinks that's why his memories are a mess because of degradation.

Even when he takes one step forward by remembering Zack, he then thinks Zack got washed away by the river instead of that infantry guy.

There's even times when Cloud straight repeats something Sephiroth says word for word and it doesn't register to him.

But yeah constantly his mind is under onslaught of Sephiroth.

By the time when we get to the Temple of the Ancients I'd argue that Cloud's mental state is worse than what it was in the OG in the scene when he gives Sephiroth the Black Materia.

In the OG he still has the creepy giggle moment but he snaps out of it. And when he gives the Black Materia to Sephiroth it's an out of body experience where we clearly see Cloud's inner self be against it but powerless to giving his body giving the Black Materia to Sephiroth or to beating up Aerith.

But after that Cloud finally realises something is horribly wrong with him. That Sephiroth can control him and almost doesn't go after Aerith because he's scared of himself.

...And Rebirth Cloud has it worse in my opinion.

There is no inner self. And Cloud is an obedient puppet that Sephiroth is toying with. Sephiroth already had the Black Materia and throws to Cloud and tells him to give it to him, and Cloud is almost eager to obey. Tifa tries to stop him and Aerith does too and Cloud chases after her and it's almost worse than silently beating her up because now he's toying with her while still so eager. She gives it to him and Cloud only snaps out of it after he gives it to Sephiroth. He then tries to save Aerith and well-

He wakes up after the multiverse stuff and the OG dream of Aerith being like 'imma go bye'.

But this time he doesn't freak out, terrified that Sephiroth can control him. He just... doesn't acknowledge it. He just goes on to find Aerith. When Yuffie asks what happened how did Sephiroth get the Black Materia if he didn't beat up Cloud he just goes 'uh...' and when Tifa asks him to let her know if he's getting weird thoughts he asks Tifa about what she means. She gives the example of thinking she's fake and he apologises, but the fact that he doesn't immediately realise that she's also talking about Black Materia is a bit of red flag.

And he might as well be using those red flags later on for semafor because oh my god-

What happened with Aerith's death is weird. At first I thought it was two worlds overlapping but no-

Cloud's mind f^@&ing snapped and thinks he saved Aerith.

That's why Cloud doesn't properly react to Aerith's death. No speech about his feelings and no scene of putting her in the water. He's full on hallucinating her. Whether that is Aerith's ghost or not doesn't matter because he's convinced himself that she's fine.

That's why he talks about Aerith waking up or going home because he can't cope with her being dead.

Sephiroth screwed with Cloud's mind so much here that he genuinely is more insane now than what he was in the OG.

So you can bet when they get to the Northern Crater, Sephiroth will use the truth of Aerith dead along with the truth of Nibelheim to break Cloud even more.

...And now I have to wait 3+ years for part 3. Rebirth really was a gift that gave me despair.

#ff7 rebirth #ff7r spoilers #ff7 cloud #cloud strife #ff7 tifa #tifa lockhart #sephiroth #sephiroth ff7 #aerith gainsborough #ff7 aerith #ff7 rebirth spoilers

[genderkoolaid]

Do you still believe HRT, which unless you have a messed up endocrine system doesn't hurt or sterilize anyone , and SRS, which often calls for reduction or addition of things and doesn't have to entail the removal of any genitals, gonads etc, are in the same vein as being trans abled, and wanting things like debilitating illness, removed limbs, and to use mobility aids etc when physically and mentally abled? /genq

It could've been a trollpost, but I saw someone posting about something that supposedly came from you about how it's the same as removing healthy gonads or to sterilize oneself intentionally to want a limb removed to disable oneself /g

Uh, yeah, at the very least I believe it doesn't make sense to support people's ability to choose one but not the other. [Also as a necessary disclaimer: I am physically disabled and I use both a cane and a wheelchair. It has had a major impact on my life. This is my opinion as a cripple who suffers on a daily basis from both my disabilities and systemic ableism.]

If you get healthy gonads or sex organs removed, you are essentially reproductively disabled. When it comes to phalloplasty, especially RFF, your arm can experience some nerve issues (which for most people is not serious, there are therapies you do to help recover) but you could, potentially, experience some kind of disability. None of this is a value statement about any kind of medical transition because disability is morally neutral. In fact for many people being reproductively disabled is an entirely positive thing! Even though for another person it could be deeply upsetting!

I've fought for a long time against TERF fearmongering about transmasculine transition, specifically HRT, and their warnings that "it will make your good pure body DISABLED!!!!!" which is both ableist and transphobic. It comes from the assumption that a disabled body is inherently lesser and tragic and a place of suffering, and that no trans person would ever take disability for the ability to experience euphoria and relieve their dysphoria. Many of us would rather be disabled and happy than abled and suffering. So why do we only get to apply this to medical transitioning for trans people?

Yes, obviously getting a limb removed or paralyzed or losing a sense is going to change how you live and you will have to deal with a lot of ableism. But it's not up to me to tell someone else that they shouldn't pursue happiness and relieve because oh no! They might be a DISABLED PERSON! The worst thing to be in the whole wide world!!!!!!!! Like disabled people already have to constantly hear "wow if I was you I'd kill myself." And while you shouldn't comment your feelings on someone else's condition unprovoked, I think it's way better to see people getting excited to live a happy and active disabled life instead of constant traumaporn. So yeah I think people should have the ability to pursue voluntary disability & I also think it would be cool to see people with BIID reclaim the label of transabled, since it was coined by a BIID activist to create a less medicalized and suffering-focused way of talking about BIID.

(Also, my stance as a mobility user has always been that the only criteria you need to fill to get a mobility aid is thinking it could help you. People already suffer unnecessarily because they are worried they aren't "disabled enough" to deserve an aid. So if someone w BIID feels better when walking with crutches I don't care! Especially if they actively fight against systemic ableism and inaccessibility! I am wayyyyy more concerned with all the buildings in my hometown with no goddamn elevator + crosswalks with no button or speaker than I am with someone using a wheelchair because it helps their dysphoria.)

#m. #ask box

[dotieeee]

A Small Act of Kindness

A DARK one-shot

Pairing: Dark!Morpheus x you, afab reader

Warnings: dark!Morpheus, obsessive behaviour, dark!Dream won't take 'no' for an answer, disturbing themes like kidnapping, imprisonment, isolation, etc, 18+ only!!

Inspired by this ask for @roguelov See: https://www.tumblr.com/roguelov/721739134130143232/this-isnt-smut-but-dream-has-strong-miette?source=share

Summary: You were at the cusp of making a life for yourself when you bought a loaf of bread for a stranger, who seemed a little bit too taken with such a nice gesture.

When you were a kid, everybody around you seemed to think you got a great life ahead of you. You kept hearing them comment how bright you were, how talented, how lucky your parents were to have such a behaved, wonderful child - and for a time, it got to your head.

Until life proved you weren't really any of those things.

It started creeping in when you went away to college. You had a taste of freedom, of zero expectations, and a glimpse of a world suddenly leagues beyond yourself. It was one class at first, then another, until you started dropping out of every class and left college altogether.

Many therapy sessions, and a couple of therapists later, you found out what it was called: burnout. It just so happened it plagued you a little early in life.

In retrospect, perhaps you could've tried harder - if you had just snoozed your alarm off a little less; if you had just grit your teeth and stomached your way through a few more algebra periods instead of sitting alone in that little corner of the library, reading whatever, hidden from a world you barely knew - perhaps it all would've been different.

Perhaps, you wouldn't be stuck in this small, glass cage floating in a vast chasm, in a place you hadn't thought existed even in your wildest dreams.

It was a day like any other, you supposed: the day you met him. You had to go to work, to a desk job that you actually liked, writing for a local food magazine. You were quite good at it too - it's a skill you had when you were quite young and had not had a chance to cultivate until late. Sure, you were barely making ends meet and had very little time to spare, what with taking a certificate course at a nearby university and recently moving out of your parents' house to rent your own little apartment, but you were feeling optimistic for the first time in a long while. Your boss just let it slip the other day that you were due for a well-deserved promotion soon. It was a slow process, but you were finally on your way to getting your life back together. You had a future you looked forward to.

Having already established your morning routine, you were on your way early to the office and decided to stop for coffee at this corner bakeshop you had once featured in one of your articles. The smell of freshly baked bread distracted you from a mental draft you were making for an article due tonight, so on impulse, you asked the cashier for a plain butter croissant at the counter. You looked to your right where the pastries were to see whether you wanted something else (the danishes looked scrumptious). You opened your mouth to ask the other lady behind the bread counter for a cherry danish, but her attention was already on the man beside you, clad in a thick, woollen black coat, collar upturned, his chiselled jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly at the question the lady posed for him.

"Uh, sir? I asked what you'd like to have?"

He tilted his head imperceptibly and for a moment, you thought he couldn't speak, until he opened those pursed lips, and finally, came out the most velvety, alluring voice you've ever heard: "I'd like some bread, please."

"Well, we've got quite a lot of them," the lady replied slowly as if she was trying her best not to be snarky at the stranger. "Might I recommend the baguette? It's fresh out of the oven."

The man nodded curtly as the lady picked the steaming bread from the basket display using a pair of tongs and placed it inside a brown paper bag.

"That'll be one twenty-five, sir."

The man made no move to shuffle in his pockets for money. In fact, he stayed still, stiff as a board, staring at the lady behind the counter who was getting rather irritated at his dawdling, probably keeping her from attending to the growing line of other customers waiting to get their breakfast. Perhaps, he didn't have money? Perhaps, just like your first few weeks out of your parents' house, he was struggling and he had no one else to depend on?

"I-I'll pay for it."

You didn't know what it really was that compelled you to say it - maybe it was that draft you were itching to get to, maybe you found empathy in his situation, whatever it was - at that time, you had no regrets. Seemingly surprised by the gesture, the man in the black coat, with his dishevelled hair and his pale countenance, stared at you intensely through those long eyelashes of his, and for a few moments, you held his gaze.

His eyes. They were a nice shade of ocean blue. They were the most beautiful pair of eyes you had ever seen.

You would later discover they could bleed to depthless black - ruthless, vindictive, inhuman.

The cashier handed you your change and your croissant, effectively breaking the spell the stranger beside you had on you. The cherry danish all but ignored, you flashed the man a small smile and headed out of the bakeshop, going about your merry way to the office with nothing but that article in mind.

And for the next two weeks, you had already put the rather bizarre incident (man) behind you, having been assigned to another place to visit and write about.

The man, however, never forgot.

The place you had been assigned to, called the New Inn, actually belonged to a professor in your university. You've had quite a lot of fun in his classes, so this was a gig you were pretty excited about.

It was a little over five in the afternoon when you stepped inside Professor Gadling's pub. He was already there in the corner booth, grading several essays. He put them aside as you arrived and asked a waiter to bring you both coffee. You were in the process of bringing out your digital recorder for the interview when you heard a voice so familiar it sent shivers down your spine.

"Hob."

Completely taken by surprise, you dropped the recorder to the floor, and it landed just a few inches from a pair of black boots. You tried to reach for it, but a pale, bony hand picked it up and wordlessly handed it to you. You looked up, only to get lost in a pair of ocean-blue eyes focused entirely on you.

It was the stranger from the bakeshop.

You took the recorder, muttering a flustered 'thank you,' before Professor Gadling greeted him like an old friend. He then introduced you to the stranger, who oddly enough just stared at you the entire time.

"She's interviewing me for the pub. I'll be featured in a magazine, can you believe it?" Professor Gadling said to the stranger who stepped inside the booth, intending to take the empty seat directly across from you. Turning to you, he stated, "This is my friend -"

"You may call me Morpheus." The man interrupted, a ghost of a smile visible on his usually blank features. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you."

It was unnerving the way he held your gaze without blinking, but perhaps it was just your imagination - after all, you hadn't had anything to eat since that leftover Chinese noodles this morning.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” was all you could come up with.

You were grateful when the waiter arrived with two cups of coffee and a dessert platter, and the interview with the professor went well and without interruptions. You both had so much fun, you ended up having dinner and drinks at the pub, and while it struck you odd that your third, silent companion did not partake in any single morsel of the food, by the time the evening ended at half-past ten, you had enough material for your article and were in great spirits. You thanked him for being such a gracious host and politely bid your farewell, as you were anxious to get a headstart on the draft.

The three of you simultaneously got to your feet - Professor Gadling to walk you outside, and the odd man named Morpheus trailing behind.

"Do come by again, my dear, and good luck with the article. I know you'd do a fantastic job." The professor said as he waved farewell outside the pub. He turned to Morpheus, who stood just a few feet away, watching the interaction, and gestured to him inside - presumably for them to continue their conversation - but as soon as you waved goodbye, he made a beeline for you, stopping just a few inches away and towering over you.

Too close, you thought. Wait, were his eyes twinkling? It must’ve been the streetlamp, the lights outside were pretty dim.

"I would like to accompany you on your walk home."

His words threw you off because they were so unexpected. He had no reason to do so, after all. Shyly, you beamed at him and replied, "I'd appreciate it, Morpheus, but I wouldn't like to impose...weren't you meeting with the professor?"

Professor Gadling, who apparently was in earshot of your conversation, waved you away.

"No, it's fine, dear. Besides, a young lady such as yourself shouldn't be walking alone at night. I'll see you some other time, my friend," he added, winking at Morpheus, who just tilted his chin in reply.

The professor had a point. You lived nearby, that was true, but the streets weren't safe on a Friday night, especially at this hour. You chewed on the insides of your cheek, nervous at the fact that you have not had anyone walk you home in a long while.

It's just a walk home. It couldn't be that bad, could it?

"Okay."

You would come to regret your response.

***

Inwardly, Morpheus rejoiced at the thought of you lowering your guard with him. He motioned with a hand to let you lead the way, not that he needed it - in two weeks after your fateful encounter at the bakeshop he had gotten to know every little detail he needed to know about you, including where you lived, of course. He had seen the little apartment himself when you were out at work, and while it irked him that you had to live in such a humble abode, he knew through your dreams that you had filled the apartment with love and considered it your sanctuary. It wouldn't matter once he took you home to his kingdom as his lover - for you, he'd craft an entire palace carved in precious stones in the blink of an eye, and it would be your sanctuary, just as much as this tiny home.

He did a fine job, too, of luring you into the place his centuries-old friend now owned. It took him only one dream, planted during your boss’s deepest slumber, for you to get sent right where Morpheus wanted you to be. All this planning and you were right there, with him, just as the fates would have it.

He had to ask you tonight. He has waited long enough.

***

You were just a few blocks away from your apartment building when you finally gained the courage to break the awkward silence between you two.

"Thank you for walking me home," you said quietly as you eyed him sideways. Your eyes widened at the sight that greeted you: he had a genuine, warm smile on his face you'd never seen on him before, and if his demeanour is anything to go by, you knew this was a rarity.

He looked like a prince, even with his hair sticking out in all directions.

"It is I who should be thanking you for your kindness to me at that establishment," he spoke with conviction. "I have not forgotten."

Surprised, but overall glad that he remembered, you matched his expression as best you can and replied, "You're welcome."

Nothing was ever exchanged until you reached your apartment door, but he seemed to draw closer to you, your shoulders almost touching.

Your hand was already at the keys to the doorknob when you asked him if he wanted to come in.

"For tea, perhaps?" You added. "I couldn't help but notice you didn’t eat at dinner, so…”

It was a last-minute decision, seeing as he was kind enough to ensure you got home safely. He could do with a few biscuits, too, in your opinion, judging by his pallor and his refusal to eat anything at the pub.

There it was again - that captivating smile, but behind it, you see a flash of something else entirely. It was gone even before you could fully take it in, so you shrugged inwardly. The hallway’s lighting has always been too dark to see a damn thing.

“You need not concern yourself over me, I am much stronger than I look,” he said in a light, teasing tone. “However, your effort would be appreciated.”

“Oh, it’s no problem!” You waved him off and pushed the door open to your home. “I just hope you don’t mind tea without milk, I haven’t done any grocery shopping yet…”

Morpheus followed you inside, closing the door behind him, as you went off to your room to drop your bag on the bed and set up your laptop on your work desk. As soon as you got out of your room, you found him with his back to you, rummaging through the copies of the magazine you wrote for.

“Nothing interesting in those, I’m afraid. Still, not bad for a would-be writer, don’t you think?”

Chuckling to yourself, you made your way to the tiny kitchen to put the electric kettle to boil, then rummaged through the cupboards for a mug you were saving for when you had guests over. Not that you’ve ever had any - so far, he was the first you’ve had since you moved in.

“‘A would-be writer?’”

The proximity of his voice startled you, seeing as you thought he had still been reading back in the living room. It’s admittedly only a few steps away, but you hadn’t heard him approach. He was at the kitchen doorway, casting a long shadow in the dimly lit space. You had forgotten to turn the lights on, but it didn’t seem to bother him.

“You give yourself very little credit for such riveting work,” he said as he closed the distance between you. The kettle had just turned off by itself, so you concentrated on pouring the boiling water on the mug and dropping a Ceylon tea bag inside. Leaning on the tiled counter, you watched the tea leaves bleed into the water, turning it to a lovely amber colour.

“I don’t know about that -”

Your sentence was cut short as you felt his fingertips subtly stroke your elbow, giving you goosebumps all over your arm.

He’d gotten so close…

Scooping up the mug with both hands, you turn around to hand him the mug, only to find yourself inches away from him you almost spill the hot liquid on his woollen coat.

“Your writing has soul. I should know: I have read every word you have ever written.”

Blinking up at him, you saw him dip his head closer to yours as his pale, warm hands enclosed around yours, still holding the tea.

You were trembling, it seemed, but he stilled it.

“Th-thank you," you whispered, unable to avert your gaze from those piercing blue eyes that seemed to pin you to place, as was his tall, imposing form enclosing you between him and the kitchen counter. He was so close you could feel the heat emanating from him. "That means so much to me.”

Or was it the heat from your cheeks you felt?

Seemingly oblivious to your increasingly flustered state, Morpheus made a deliberate move to extricate the cup of tea from your grasp so he could set it back down behind you (it was probably already over-brewed, you thought), while you try to compose yourself and ignore his fingers softly grazing your knuckles. You didn't have much time, however, because the next thing you knew was those same hands cupping your cheeks and his soft lips brushing over yours in a chaste kiss that stole your breath completely.

You felt him release his hold on you, perhaps to observe your reaction. Perhaps, you could’ve pushed him away right there and then; screamed at him for touching you and thrown him out of your home; but you couldn’t summon your limbs to respond. He took your momentary lapse of judgement to crash his lips on yours once more - it was a more heated, more insistent kiss, and as if to seal you to him, his hands travelled to your back to encase you in an embrace and pushed you further into the counter.

This was wrong.

It was all your instincts could tell you. So you heeded them and pushed against the lapel of his coat with all your strength. It was like pushing against a wall, but you managed to wriggle free from his grasp, so you made an effort to put as much distance between you and him as your tiny kitchen would allow. You glanced immediately at his face to gauge his expression, and to your utter shock, his eyes had gone entirely black. One blink, and it was blue once more, maybe even a tad regretful.

It’s the lighting in this damn kitchen, you assured yourself.

“I understand I may have been too forward,” he began, “But I assure you, my intentions are pure. I have waited for this since our fateful meeting.” He took slow steps towards you, and unconsciously you backed away until your back hit the fridge. There was nowhere else to back into. He halted as soon as he sensed your guard up.

“Morpheus, it was just a loaf of bread, really…”

Morpheus’s eyes softened visibly at your words and simply continued, “And by that selfless act, you have saved me in more ways than you could ever understand. I have held you in my heart since, my precious little saviour.”

“I-I'm sure it's nothing...” you stammered.

“Allow me the honour of courting you, and in turn, you shall know of my gratitude, and my love, until the end of my days.”

Your heart sank at his declaration. Somehow, you knew in your heart he meant every word he said. You couldn’t have this, not when everything in your life was just starting to fall into place. You put on the kindest smile you could muster and spoke slowly as you chose the right words, hoping he wouldn’t be too downcast with what you were about to say to him.

“I'm sure you're a wonderful man, Morpheus. I just…I don't think I can make that commitment right now. I mean, I just met you, and all I know about you is that you’re Professor Gadling’s friend.”

“That can be rectified.”

You let out a sigh. This was going to be difficult, but you really didn’t like the idea of egging him on. “I know that, but…I don’t think I have time for that, you know?”

“How so?” he asked in a low voice, tilting his head slightly.

“It's been a struggle just to get to where I am today… I have my work, which I love, and for the first time in my life, I feel like I'm doing something right and…one wrong move could make me lose my footing. I’m sorry.”

Morpheus seemed unconvinced, taking a few steps forward to close that gap between you. “You need not worry yourself over such trivial matters. I know what you dream of. I can give you the recognition you deserve, the stability you crave and more… Come with me and I can show you.”

He offered an outstretched hand, urging you to take it. But if you were being honest, you just wanted to crawl into bed, the draft be damned. Exhaustion was starting to creep up on you.

“‘Come with you…?’ I'm sorry, please don't take this the wrong way, I'm sure you mean well…but-but-th-this isn't really a good time for this…” you stammered as you crossed your arms to make a point, which you hoped he’d finally take. “I think I'd like to be alone now, please. I-I have that…thing I want to finish, and it's getting late…I’m sorry, Morpheus. I really am.”

Morpheus’s hand lowered steadily, but all the softness he had in his expression was gone without a trace, replaced with cold, hard eyes and furrowed brows. The warmth you have loved your apartment for all but disappeared, replaced with a clammy air that seemed to come from…from him.

“You have no idea what you've just turned away…nor who I am, and what I can do,” came Morpheus’s voice, lowered to an unrecognisable timbre. “I will give you this final chance to amend your answer, my little saviour.”

“E-excuse me?” you said, fighting the urge to run away from him and hide. This was your home, you had no reason to. Who the hell was he to threaten you in your own home? “I'd like you to leave, please, or I'm calling the police…”

He was only a few feet away from you now, and the wind somehow grew stronger, you could feel its rough caress on your skin.

Sand.

The light in your kitchen turned on without a warning, and your eyes widened at the sight of the man you had so carelessly allowed into your home:

A dangerous man - now a being transforming right before you - with chilling black eyes, a heavy flurry of sand circling him, and waves of black smoke emanating from his growing form…

Paralyzed in utter fear, your heart pounding in your ears, all you could do was hold on to the fridge as you watched him approach your cowering form on the floor. Gone was that princely face you shared a gentle kiss with, replaced by a bony, skeletal mask with hollow cheekbones, his mouth contorted in a snarl that revealed razor-sharp fangs.

His voice echoed as he spoke, raspy and deafening:

“I am quite disappointed in you, my precious saviour. No matter: I am not unmerciful.” A pale hand, now with blackened, sharpened nails, made an appearance before you. “Take my hand, my beloved, and I shall forgive your error.”

In your terrified state, all you could muster was an adamant shake of your head.

This can’t be real. It couldn’t be.

“I’m dreaming, I'm-I’m dreaming this, this can’t be real, you’re no-not real…” hunched on the floor, hugging your legs, you muttered to yourself.

“Very well,” he thundered. “You have made your choice. ”

You would later discover just how real dreams could be, and that they weren’t that much different from the nightmares.

***

Morpheus released a small sigh as he watched you in your spherical compartment, deep in troubled slumber. He had not meant to frighten you that much with his nightmarish form. Admittedly, he could’ve done a much better job with reeling himself in, but the pain of your rejection felt to him like a thousand daggers being plunged into his heart. All he wanted was for you to be happy with him. He could’ve given you everything he had seen you dream of - he still could, but not before he heard from your sweet lips an admittance of your guilt, and a vow never to spurn him again. 

He held the tiny sphere that contained your form in his palm and drew it closer to his face to get a better look at you. He had fashioned you a dress that brought out the colour of your eyes and soul: you looked ravishing, even in imprisonment. In his mind, he had played the memory of the kiss you had shared with him in your home a thousand times over. You were intoxicating, and the thought of kissing you again and finally marking your skin cemented his decision of keeping you in this space he crafted in his kingdom. You needed time to consider his proposal, that was to be expected. He would allow you the time you needed. All he had to do was assure you of your safety and well-being, seeing as scaring you even further might prolong his wait.

He knew you would wake soon, and he would explain his actions when you do. You would have no reason to refuse him, then.

***

You woke with a start, rubbing the sleep off your eyes, just to sit up and think.

You had lost count of the number of days you had spent in your glass enclosure, and there was nothing much to do except to observe your surroundings - nothing but a vast space, where distant stars glittered in the black tapestry that was space, with a single source of light in sight, like the sun, only that it offered no warmth. That, and to ruminate on the events that led you to this situation.

You remembered when you first came to, locked in this glorified cage. You still thought you were dreaming then, so you did everything you could to try waking yourself up, only none of it worked. That was when he appeared.

Dream of the Endless, he had called himself. The King of Dreams and Ruler of the Nightmare Realm.

He claimed to rule the place he had taken you to, which he called the Dreaming. He had then explained that everything humanity (‘your kind,’ you recalled him saying) had ever dreamed of in its sleep was as real as everything it sees, hears, and feels in its waking hours and that he presided over them since the first living creature dreamed, and will do so until the end of all life.

He had revealed that he had watched over you, your dreams and your waking hours, since your first meeting, and that he had not meant to scare you, only that he wished for you to accept his advances.

That was the first of his many attempts to get you to say ‘yes.’

He would ask in many ways: a long walk in this garden he called the Fiddler’s Green; a sumptuous dinner in one of his many grand halls; an adventurous tryst in one of the humans’ dreams. He had promised that if you agreed to be courted by him and be with him, he would take you out of your enclosure and release you, allow you to roam his kingdom as his lover, forever wanting nothing and lavishing in all the riches and trinkets he could offer.

From then, you knew you would never be allowed back into the life you had worked so hard to build, humble as it may have been.

At first, your response to his attempts of coaxing you into a relationship with him was a string of incoherent curses and screaming. After a while, they were plain ignored - his face would remain blank every time, if not a tad disappointed, or hurt.

You didn’t care.

But you were also lying if you said it hadn’t worn out your resolve. This day was one of them.

You missed food. Not that you were ever hungry - he had removed hunger from you in your imprisonment. He had given you the gift of dreamless sleep as well, but in your time alone with nothing to do except wake and sleep, you’d give almost anything to have dreams again. You had no other company except him and the vast, endless space beyond your cage that he had conjured for you. You being sealed away from everything was driving you closer to insanity every day, and that was his design: to make you desperate enough to submit to his will.

Without warning, your hair stood at the back of your neck, your senses on high alert.

Dream of the Endless had arrived.

“My precious little saviour,” he greeted in that deep, velvety voice you had grown to hate and find comfort in at the same time. “I have come for you.”

Your captor had a warm smile on his regal features, one that didn’t match his true intentions. You stared at him with a blank expression and let his greeting go unanswered.

“Will you join me for a walk in my garden?”

He kept his eye contact with you as he waited for your response. It unnerved you to no end, the way he held your gaze with those ocean-blue eyes of his, knowing a single ‘no’ from you would instantly turn it to the black ones you have known to fear. When you opened your mouth to speak, it actually hurt your throat - you hadn’t spoken in a long time.

“Will you be locking me up again, after?”

He grinned at you and tilted his head slightly. “If you behave and do as I say, I will not.”

Only a single tear that escaped from your eye betrayed that gnawing feeling of defeat in your gut. Finally swallowing whatever pride you had left, you made a decision.

“Yes.”

You should never have bought him that damned loaf of bread.

***

Just a little one-shot I wanted to write to get myself out of a writing rut I've been stuck with wanting Comatose to be perfect it stressed me out too much :// I will still work on it, I promise! I just need to get this out the way to get my writing mojo back :D

PART II here!!!!

Thank you for reading!!!! Please engage and all that it's really appreciate iiiit

***

#dark!dream x reader #dark!dream x you #dark!morpheus fic #dark!morpheus x you #dark!morpheus x reader #dark!dream oneshot #dark!dream of the endless #dark!morpheus fanfic #the sandman #the sandman fanfiction

[copperbadge]

As a writer with ADHD who has gone to therapy for years, it has actually been very helpful in gaining tools to sort of "manually" emotionally regulate. My therapist says that writing fiction is a great tool to practice having emotions and regulating them, but like you I struggled with real-life negative emotions, especially a sudden unexpected one. The aftershocks could go on for days. It's had a really positive effect on my life and my relationships, and even my self-esteem. Hope this is useful

Okay, so this is interesting, because we've been talking in the comments of the post about what therapy is or can do, and I think I got stuck a bit backwards in terms of like "This technique doesn't seem like it would work on me regardless."

Because part of it is that I don't want to tell someone what won't work for me if I also don't actually have any kind of goal -- saying "I don't know why I'm here and also I'm going to fight you" is like...one, rude, and two, well then what are we even doing, you know? Why waste the time, I don't enjoy fighting with psychologists. If I don't want to do most of what it entails AND I don't have a reason to go, then therapy's just, you know, not for me. Which is fine, but I'd like to commit to either trying it out or ignoring it, instead of this endless circular motion, which bogged me down a bit in the post.

But if we backtrack to actually having a goal, then yeah, okay, more regulation would not be a bad one. I don't know that I believe it's possible given the only thing I've found that works is, uh, prescription amphetamines, and even then in very limited application, but again: haven't been to therapy in twenty-five years. So while I immediately know many things that wouldn't work, saying "I was diagnosed with ADHD recently and apparently emotional dysregulation is a thing, I've mostly fixed it but maybe there's something that could fix it more" might work. It sounds better than "I don't like this emotion and would like to know how to stop feeling it" anyway, even if the point is the same. And my meds psych is likely to be knowledgeable about specific people who might help me, when put like that.

I keep forgetting my next appointment with him is actually going to be in-person -- they're starting to adjust telehealth rules regarding controlled substance prescription, so he's supposed to get face-to-face with me at least every six months. I like him and trust him but every time I see that "in person" note on my calendar it zaps me back to being a teenager and experiencing the Weekly Dread of the Feelings Hour again. His extremely firm boundaries about Not Being My Therapist and the fact that I'm also kind of pleased to be able to meet him in person are keeping me from cancelling the appointment, at least. And my awkwardness on video calls has already prepared him to deal with Anxious Sam in person, so hopefully nothing will seem amiss.

#the dichotomy of tagging this post so people don't have to read about therapy #and tagging this post in a way that won't make it show up in tags people read for education #i guess if you really can't deal on that level you've got keywords blacklisted as well as tags #That's what I do anyway

[dampsleeves]

// just life stuff, rambles ab therapy :3

oh yea forgot to mention,, but uh I may be getting an autism evaluation sooner than I'd imagined! :)

AND my therapist is autistic and he rocks! when we began discussing the reasons why - from symptoms I'd exhibited in early childhood such as echolalia & palilalia, perching instead of sitting, walking on my toes, learning difficulties,, to the symptoms I *still now* exhibit such as a very strong avoidance to eye contact, unusual emotional reactions, inattentive behavior, unusual eating & sleeping habits, repetitive actions & words, intense interest in a specific number of things... etc.

- instead of brushing me off, he raised his eyebrows and was like, "What the hell? Uh, yeah... those are all actually *really* obvious signs of autism," and like seemed surprised that I was only just now being taken seriously. Which... to be clear I'm 100% aware why I was never taken seriously before... *ahem* - Black, queer, & AFAB - I was SUPER relieved to have someone actually listen to me, and not tell me "Nahhh must just anxiety or somethin'" again.

Every other time I've gone and met with a therapist I've left just being irritated and thinking this is gonna go nowhere, but we've scheduled to meet again in April and I'm actually really excited for it. Like I feel like this might actually help.

He also listened to me ab my issues with swallowing, and he's thinking it could be ARFID. Which is comorbid with...? You guessed it. So we're lookin' into that too now. TL;DR: Ya boy's finally being listened to! And I'm hype :D

#spiidervent #not snz #i was like “THANK YOUUU! FINALLY!” #so i'm NOT crazy and just imagining things #good 2 know :3

[drawingducktalesducks]

Violet: Webbigail! We require assistance!

Webby: Violet!

Violet: My sister seems to be malfunctioning- she woke up this morning- MORNING. Not afternoon- And she shrieked, and has been staring into space ever since. Do you have any idea what-

Webby: VI WHAT DID YOU DO?!

Violet: I- What?

Webby: I SWEAR if you’ve snuck another piece of cursed junk home when I wasn’t looking, I'm gonna- HRrrk!

Violet: Webbigail does not refer to me as “Vi”. Only Lena does that.

Violet: You… are an imposter.  

Webby: I’m awake at stupid seven in the stupid morning, is what I am! Let go!

Violet: …… Lena?

Webby: Now she gets it!  

Webby: Webby- Webby, c’mon. It’s weird I know, but we really need your nerd brain and Scrooge-specific trivia, okay?

Lena: eeeeeeee

Webby: Webby?

Lena: aaaaaAAAAAAAAA-

Webby: Pink! Snap out of it!

Violet: Try hugging her.

Webby: And like, what, that’ll swap us back?

Violet: Unlikely, but the shock of being taller than you may restart her systems-

Lena: OH MY GOSH I’M THE TALL ONE NOW???

Violet: -and I am proven correct again, as usual.

Webby: oh I hate this

Lena: Lena! I KNOW I WOKE UP IN YOUR ROOM BUT I DIDN’T READ YOUR DIARY THIS TIME I PROMISE!

Webby: I’m a little more freaked by you being in my BODY, Pink, but great! Thanks!

Webby: wait. this time?

Lena: Yes! Your poetry is LOVELY by the way and I’m definitely not counting the days until you show it to me so I can bask in it during a non-shadow war emergency situation!

Webby: You’ve read my-

Violet: Webbigail, we need to read your journal.

Lena: Okay! Turn around is fair play!

Violet: We are not looking for embarrassing content equal to that of my sister’s poems, which would be hard to come by in any case-

Webby: Hey!

Violet: -instead, we must discover what magical artifacts you have handled recently, as that is the most likely source of my building headache.

Lena: Oh! Headache? I thought it was the mutual possession that was the problem?  

Violet: Why do you suppose I have a headache.

Webby: Webby- which poems did you read?

Lena: A pretty one!

Webby: Yeah right but, was it just evil? Or-

Lena: Evil!

Webby: -oh thank duck

Violet: Then you are missing out. Her flowery word choice and dramatic flair are far better utilized when waxing poetic about-

Webby: Don't you dare-

Lena: The cursed crystal of contrived circumstance!

Webby: ...wow, that’s convenient    

Violet: Quite.

Lena: No no the runes said “contrived” not “convenient”- It’s something we found on yesterday’s adventure!

Lena: Scrooge thought it might let him pick up random lucky finds of money, like Gladstone does. Only we couldn’t get it to work! It’s still really pretty though, so he let me carry it back home, and keep it on my nightstand…

Violet: And during that time, did you say or think anything relating to exchanging bodies with Lena?

Lena: No!

Lena: We-ll, not her body, anyway.

Webby: You mean we’ve swapped brains?

Lena: I mean I, I was missing you a teensy tiny bit while on the adventure! So I maybe might have been thinking about you… and, wondering about you… and maybe wishing I could know what you’re feeling…

Violet: On which topic?

Lena: CLASSIFIED.

Webby: That's sweet, but you know you can always just ask me how I’m feeling.

Lena: Uh huh, right.

Lena: I mean sure, when you felt like you were morphing into your evil aunt who enslaved and traumatized you for fifteen years, the only words to come out of your mouth were a happy anniversary song to me.

Lena: But yes. Feelings talks. Mm-hmm. Yep. Definitely!

Webby: ..Okay fine, so i'd rather die than talk about feelings. Sue me.

Violet: If I thought doing so would get you into therapy, I assuredly would.

Lena: AND I'D BLACKMAIL THE BEST LAWERS TO... keep you.. out of therapy?

Webby: Aw Pink, you really do care.

Lena: Wait no- I mean yes obviously, but- therapy good- only, hmm, well, if you didn't WANT to go then I guess would still blackmail the lawyers-

Webby: You're so cute

Lena: Um- oh, uh- your welcome! No no, thanks!! NO NOT NO THANKS JUST THANKS NOT WELCOME!!!

Webby: Webby

Lena: YOUR WELCOME TO CALL ME CUTE why am I still talking-!?

Webby: Webby breathe, it's okay. I get it

Lena: oh thank goodness

Violet: Indeed. And now so do I.

Lena: You do?

Violet: Regarding feelings and the point of willingly sharing them, the key process to reversing this situation and easing my cranial spasms has finally become clear.  

Lena: It has???

Webby: why are you smirking, Vi.

Violet: I smirk because… Webbigail. You must read Lena’s poems about you.

Webby: SHE WHAT

Lena: HER POEMS ABOUT WHAT???

Webby: No! Nuh-uh! That is SO not happening!

Violet: Then enjoy being shorter than her forever, for I wash my hands of this absurdity.

Webby: No no no no, there’s gotta be another way- VI! Vi get back here and help!

Violet: I have done all that I can…

Webby: HAVE YOU?

Violet: No. But this is more amusing. Farewell.

Webby: VIOLET!

Lena: Lena?

Webby: Y-yeah?  

Lena: Is that true? You… you’ve written actual literal poems about… um…

Lena: … me?

Webby:

Webby:

Webby: So me being the short one. That’s a thing, huh? We could totally get used to this.

#Ducktales (2017) #Violet Sabrewing #Webby Vanderquack #Lena #Weblena #Sabrewing Sisters #incorrect quotes

[mickimagnum]

Devin's Dude Ranch: Episode Two (Part Two)

*as Devin reenters the house, she is immediately approached by Albert*

Albert: "Devin, hi. I'm so glad I caught you. How's your evening treating you?"

*Devin smiles widely*

Devin: "It's been good. And yours?"

*Albert flashes a boyish grin*

Albert: "Well. it's better now that I'm talking to you. Hey, do you want to go somewhere to chat?"

Devin: "I thought you'd never ask."

*the next shot shows Albert and Devin on the couch on the back deck. they're sitting with a few inches between them.*

Albert: "Why don't you move a little closer?"

*She looks at him warily, but in a playful way, before settling against him*

Devin: "Alright, but no funny business."

Albert: "Wouldn't dream of it."

Devin: "This is probably better for me anyway. so I don't have to look directly at your face."

*Albert chokes out a laugh*

Albert (confused, but lighthearted): "What do you mean?"

Devin: "Well, Albert. Frankly, you're just too damn beautiful. When I look at you, sometimes my brain just reboots."

*Albert laughs again*

Albert: "That's a new one on me. I apologize for my face. Do you want me to get a paper bag or something?"

*Albert's eyes shine at Devin*

*Devin bites her lower lip and shakes her head, on the edge of laughter*

Devin: "It might help, actually, but...maybe we should just treat it like like immersion therapy. The more I'm around you, the more I'll get used to it, that kind of thing."

Albert: "Alright, but I just want to make sure you know that I will do whatever it takes to make this work."

Devin: "Including wearing a paper bag for the rest of your life?"

Albert: "Exactly."

Devin: "This was a very helpful conversation, thank you."

Albert: "Anytime."

*they make eye contact and instantly break out into smiles*

Albert: "So tell me about you. What got you into training horses?"

Devin: "In short, my Dad. The long version is, my family has been training horses at least since my great-great-great grandfather. It's in my genes, I guess you can say. I've been doing it literally my entire life."

Albert: "That's amazing. And is this your family's ranch?"

*Devin looks steely eyed for a moment and clears her throat*

Devin: "Uh, no. It's not. This one is all mine."

Albert: "Do you not want to talk about it?"

*A weak smile flickers across Devin's face before disappearing*

Devin: "It's a bit of a touchy subject," *she sighs before continuing* "But, like I said, I've spent my entire life training horses, working for my Dad. He got sick a couple of years ago. Lung cancer. But, instead of leaving me the family ranch, who it should have gone to by all rights, it was left to his brother instead. He ranch, the business, all of it. When I confronted both of them about it, they told me a woman had no business training horses or running a business 'on her own.' My Dad died six months later and my uncle, well, he has everything except the monetary inheritance I was left, which I invested into this ranch."

*Albert exhales*

Albert: "That is seriously *bleep*ed up. I'm so sorry that happened to you. And to be treated that callously by your own family .... unimaginable."

Devin: "It was honestly the worst betrayal I have ever known in my entire life. It really is true what they say about people's true colors coming out when someone dies. But, enough about me. Tell me something about you."

Albert: "I would much rather talk about you, but if you insist..."

Devin: "I do."

Albert: "Well, I'm a chef. I used to own a restaurant in San Myshuno, but I hated the administrative side of it and missed cooking. So, I sold it and went back to the kitchen, and honestly, I couldn't be happier with my career re-pivot."

Devin: "Oh, that's amazing. What's your favorite thing to cook?"

*Albert ponders for a moment*

Albert: "I'd have to go back to basics; a good grilled cheese can be a work of art."

Devin: "Aahhh. I was not expecting that answer. I figured it'd be something more gourmet."

*Albert chuckles*

Albert: "Clearly you have some things to learn about me."

Devin: "What an exciting prospect."

Albert: "What about you? What's your favorite meal to cook?"

Devin: "Oh that one's easy. Both to cook and eat; frank and beans."

*Albert throws his head back, covers his face with his hand, and laughs*

Albert: "Wwwhhattt?"

*Devin is now also laughing*

Devin: "You're not the only one that's full of surprises."

Albert: "That is such a cowgirl answer. I love it."

Devin: "I grew up on it! It's like, a childhood comfort food. For most kids it's mac and cheese. For me was it's frank and beans."

Albert: "As long as I can sleep downstairs on frank and beans night."

Devin: "Why? You'll be eating them, too. We'll both be fartin' up a storm."

*Albert bursts out in a loud chorus of laughter*

Albert: "Oh my god, this is the sexiest conversation I've ever had."

Devin: "Hey, this is real talk. This is what you get to look forward if you want to be in a relationship with me."

Albert: "Trust me, I'm looking forward to it so much."

*suddenly Milo appears amidst the pair's laughter. it slowly dies down as they realize he's standing there*

Milo: "Hey, guys. I'm sorry to interrupt. I was just wondering if I could talk to Devin when you're done?"

Devin (who seems a bit caught off-guard): "Yeah, Milo, sure. Just give me a minute, okay?"

Milo: "Yeah, sure. Thank you. And sorry, again."

*Milo walks off*

*Albert sighs with disappointment*

Albert: "I guess it's too early get to keep you all to myself."

Devin: "That's what they tell me."

Albert: "Well then, you go do your thing. I'm going to get a drink."

*Albert and Devin get to their feet*

Devin: "I enjoyed our chat."

*the two enter into an embrace*

Albert: "Me too."

*he cradles her head and kisses her on the forehead*

*As they separate and Devin walks away, she's smiling and blushing. Albert watches her walk away for a few moments before heading inside*

Albert (in diary room): "Just half an hour with this girl and I'm hooked. She's so easy to talk to. I didn't want our time to end. It was hard to let her go. And there's definitely chemistry there, and a connection forming. I hope she feels it, too. 'Cause, man. I can't wait to see her again."

*Looks directly into the camera as a lopsided, boyish smile spreads across his face*

Devin (in diary room): "Albert," *folds her arms at her waist and smiles to herself* "Yeah, there's something about him. I definitely feel the chemistry. I like being around him. It's comfortable. I do have this nagging worry at the back of my mind though...with him being a city boy, I'm not sure if he's really down for the ranch life, you know?"

*camera cuts to Milo waiting for Devin. he looks pensive. Devin is approaching him from behind*

Devin: "Hey there."

*Milo turns see Devin approach. His eyes instantly light up and a warm smile spreads across his face*

Milo: "Hi."

Milo: "How are you? You're still okay from...earlier?"

*Devin offers a reassuring smile*

Devin: "I'm okay. I've been training horses my entire life and have had worse falls than that, trust me."

Milo: "Again, I am so sorry. I don't know what I was thinking trying to pull that off."

Devin: "You were thinking you wanted to make a grand entrance."

*Milo glances at his feet, rubs the back of his neck and reluctantly nods*

Devin: "That's alright, man. That's what tonight was all about, I suppose. But, we're past that now, so it's cool for us to move just on. You've learned from your mistake. And I've learned to dodge you if I see you running my way."

*Milo and Devin both share a short chuckle, before he shyly nods in agreement.*

Devin: "So tell me something else about you, besides the fact you're an accident prone cutie."

*Milo looks up at her startled and then tries to mask it, but only manages to blush*

Milo: "Me? I, uh, I'm a musician. Nothing big, yet. Still tryin' to make it, I guess. I still work a day job and all."

Devin: "I love that. What instrument?"

Milo: "Guitar. And I sing. I write my own music too."

Devin: "Wow. You're a triple threat. I really want to learn how to play guitar. I've just never really found the time."

*Milo's eyes light up*

Milo: "I'd love to teach you!"

*Devin smiles up him*

Devin: "I'd really like that. As long as you promise to be patient with me."

Milo (his voice soft and sincere): "Always."

*the pair stand in silence for a moment, locked in eye contact, smiling at each other before Devin speaks again*

Devin: "So, what do you do for your day job, then?"

*glances down at his feet and begins absentmindedly kicking at the ground*

Milo: "Well, that is less glamorous, truth be told. I work at a burger joint."

Devin: "Nice. Do you like it?"

Milo: "It's not my dream, but it's not bad."

Devin: "Whatever pays the bills, am I right?"

*Milo looks relieved and nods as a smile plays at the edges of his mouth*

Milo: "What about you? How'd you get into making nectar?"

Devin: "Oh, that! I took a local class here in Chestnut Ridge not too longer after I moved here, just a sort of for fun/self-improvement type of thing. Turned out I really enjoyed it and had a knack for it. I decided to use it as a way to pay for the horses until I got my first few trained up and sold, but man, the business just really took off! Now most people know me for Echo Valley Nectar and not the horses, which is exactly the opposite of why I got into it."

*Devin grasps her head for dramatic effect and laughs*

Milo: "Fate is crazy."

Devin: "You can say that again."

*her words are followed by another void of silence as the two steal glances at each other*

Devin: "So, what do you hope fate has in store for you?"

*Milo's eyes search her face as he considers his answer*

Milo: "I think you know one thing I'm hoping for," *he glances away and smiles down at the ground again, clearly embarrassed by his forwardness* "Besides my person to grow old with, a good dog, a successful music career, to see the world, and one day a small family. A lifetime supply of tacos would be nice too."

*Devin can't resist smiling and bites her lower lip in an attempt to suppress it*

Devin: "That all sounds amazing. Especially the lifetime supply of tacos part."

*Milo's laugh rings out. after it subsides he says:*

Milo: "Your turn."

Devin: "Also, my person. Also, a small family one day. Also, to see the world. And I guess just a lifetime of successful horse-training. That's really all that's left that I'm really want to spend my life doing."

Milo: "Well, it sounds like our ideal futures match-up pretty well.*

*the two stand in silence again, smiling at each other*

*Devin begins to shiver and glances over her shoulder back toward the house*

Devin: "It is getting cold out here. Is it okay with you if I head back inside?"

*Milo shoves his hands into his pockets. he looks disappointed, but nods.*

Milo: "Of course, yeah. Go warm up."

Devin: "Thank you, sweet Milo."

*they hug*

Devin: "Oh my Watcher, you're so warm."

*Milo chuckles*

Milo: "I've been told I run hot."

*Devin holds on a few moments longer*

*Milo grins to himself in the extended embrace. he is blushing*

Devin: "Mmm. That's nice," *she finally pulls away* "I enjoyed spending time with you. And I'm looking forward to more. Soon."

*Milo is still blushing*

Milo: "The feeling is very mutual."

Milo, in diary room: "Devin's incredible. She's so kind and warm. I haven't met any other girls like her. And we our vision of the future matches so well that maybe this is fate. Maybe she is the one. Watcher, I hope so."

Devin, in diary room: "Milo strikes me as being a little bit shy. Or maybe he's still in his head from earlier tonight, I don't know. It's making building a connection a little hard. But, I definitely feel like there could be something there. He's an incredibly sweet guy. I can see myself really liking him, but we just have to keep working on our connection to see."

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Albert submitted by @bakersimmer Milo submitted by @belsasim

#devinsduderanch #devin delaney #albert robins #milo penn #sims 4 bachelorette #sims 4 bachelorette challenge #echo valley ranch #chestnut ridge #sims 4 horse ranch #simblr #the sims 4 #sims community #ts4 #sims 4 love story #sims 4 story #sims 4 screenshots

[darubyprincx]

(this work is a continuation of this post! if you haven't read it yet, please read it first for context)

Meanwhile in the Overworld, Xisuma was trying his best to not get K.O'ed by a gaggle of guardians.

He sluggishly dodged a beam in the salty water, turning around quickly just to see another hit him square in the helmet. With a sigh, he clambered out of the water and flew towards the safety of the portal a few blocks above to get some milk. Guardian wrangling was always exhausting, even when you hadn't been going at it for hours. X considered that maybe he needed a day off to take a good long nap. Maybe that day should be today.

The portal behind him whispered, speaking of someone coming through, and he turned around to see none other than Mumbo Jumbo stumble onto the stone platform he had built, holding a shulker box.

Internally, he shelved that thought with a sigh. He'd have to take a break later.

"'Ello," he said, pleasantly surprised. "Anything else you need, or were you just dropping by?"

"Well," said Mumbo, pushing his hair out of his face, "I got really really lost on my way to your portal to ask you this. Like, really lost."

"Are you alright?" asked X with concern. Mumbo did look- well, he always looked at least a little tired, but tireder than usual.

"I ran into your brother," said Mumbo.

"That doesn't answer my question," said X with a (hopefully silent) sigh.

"Okay, so you know how I left the server a few months back to go on vacation?" asked Mumbo, putting down the shulker box and, after a moment's hesitation, sitting down on it.

"Yep."

"Well I got back and uh, well, there's a lot more diamonds in there than I remember putting in," said Mumbo, patting the side of the box. "I figured since I'd run into EX instead of you, he might have-"

"They," corrected X automatically.

"Right, sorry," said Mumbo. "I figured they might have known where the diamonds went."

"Please don't tell me they tried to extort you of your money," said X with a sigh. "I can get you some of what you lost if you need-"

"No, no, they didn't," said Mumbo quickly. "Actually, they said something about it being too easy to just say it was theirs? They're the one who pointed me over here, actually. I think h- they just wanted to be rid of me, to be honest."

Xisuma hummed thoughtfully. "That tracks too," he said. "Anyways, no, I haven't lost any diamonds either."

"Huh," said Mumbo. "Any idea who might have?"

X paused another minute, looking at the shulker box Mumbo was sitting on then back to Mumbo then back to the box. He had a suspicion, but...

"Mind if I take a look at what's in it?" he asked. Mumbo nodded and X walked over and opened it. Inside sat gleaming stacks of diamond blocks and deepslate diamond ore, the blocks hastily assembled.

Ah.

So that's what was going on.

"I have an inkling," he said, standing back up and handing the box back to Mumbo, "that Ren might know more on this subject than I."

"Alright," said Mumbo with a nod. "Thanks for the lead, X. I'll make sure- I'll make sure to ask him."

"Before you go, is there anything else that EX said to you?" asked X as Mumbo stepped back to the portal. "I know they keep to themself mostly, but I'd like to know if they're planning on pulling something."

"Uh, not really, no," said Mumbo, scratching the back of his head.

"Are you sure?"

"Well, there was something about me going to therapy for anxiety," said Mumbo with a short laugh. "I'm not sure if it was actual advice or an insult."

X wanted to sigh so badly in that moment, but he kept it in check for the sake of his guest. "Yeah, that sounds like something they'd do," he said with a nod.

"Do you- do you figure they were right?" asked Mumbo, looking him in the eyes for the first time that meeting. "I just wanted a second opinion on it."

Xisuma took a long look at the man in the suit who was known serverwide as the nervous wreck with a moustach, currently tapping fingers on his pants leg. He had seen the man be confident exactly once in season 6, and never again before or since. Despite their shortcomings, EX was a good judge of character, and... yeah, he agreed with them on this.

"If you feel like it would help you," he said finally with a shrug, trying to keep his tone as lighthearted as possible, "I know either Cleo or Joe have some sort of degree in that sort of thing."

"Huh," said Mumbo. "Never would have expected that from Cleo. Well, thanks again," he said, putting one foot into the portal and giving a wave. "I'll update you if anything happens."

"See you, my friend," called X, giving back a wave of his own. He waited silently for a few seconds after Mumbo was through the other side of the portal before turning back to his rudimentary storage system with a deep sigh and a small chuckle.

"Good Lord," he muttered to himself, pulling out his comms and typing in a message to EX.

<Xisuma> By the way, Mumbo just dropped by and I told him to go to either Cleo or Joe for therapy <Xisuma> Thanks for bringing that up, I think we've been trying to schedule him an appointment under the table but nobody knows how to do that politely lol <EvilXisuma> finally. thank hels <EvilXisuma> that man was giving me secondhand embarrassment just by existing <Xisuma> hey, be nice to the man, he has anxiety <EvilXisuma> no shit, sherlock

X sighed and put his comm back in his pocket. Maybe he'd take that off day today after all.

#ray's tag #mcyt #hermitcraft #mumbo jumbo #xisuma #writing #i love this lil series #might turn it into a fic when i get the energy later #keys' writing

[utilitycaster]

Something I've noticed, and that I'd be curious to get your thoughts on, is that there's a subset of fans who were perfectly cool with FCG when they didn't follow a deity, but as soon as they decided that religion was something they wanted to have as a part of their life, these fans did a 180. As you said, it's fine if someone doesn't enjoy how FCG is exploring religion, but it seems to me like some people were a lot more attached to the idea of a goddless cleric than they were to him as a character who had the potential to grow and change

Oh absolutely I think this is the case, which is funny, because I initially could not stand that FCG was a cleric with no apparent source of power (and, to be clear, I am not bothered by clerics who have mixed or even negative feelings about their deities like Deanna and FRIDA, nor would I be mad about a cleric devoted to a concept rather than a god).

Like...this is also touching on what I want to talk about later but there are a lot of fans who just...hate that the characters (and, uh, by extension, the cast) have free will and are not just puppets to play out and validate their (the fans) own personal beliefs, but are instead here to tell a story, which is why they hate change (because they fixate on the characters most appropriate as these puppets in the first few episodes and so change obviously fucks with that perception and forces them to have to think).

I think it's just people who, as I said, haven't gone to therapy about their religious trauma or at least learned the basics of "how I feel about religion is not necessarily how other people feel, nor is it directly applicable to a fictional magical world" and who are mad that a character they believed would prove that they are right is instead exploring religion. Which already didn't make sense because even if FCG did remain godless, they probably would still have rushed in here. Not to tap the Brennan Lee Mulligan "personality pre-dates ideology" sign yet again but the martyr complex and the altruism both came well before the interest in the Changebringer for FCG. FCG already did not really trust himself to make decisions; he just now has a way to outsource it to someone else. Which makes their speech on the Grand Disc fascinating, because it is essentially FCG asserting that in the absence of a god, one must aspire to goodness on one's own. I mean...folks, that's literally humanism, in a world where gods objectively exist.

Speaking of Brennan, he told a great story on the WBN fireside chat this week. He said it was a Hindu parable although I haven't tbh been able to find it, but anyway, it's about an atheist who meditated constantly, with the mantra that the gods weren't real. Upon their death, they were taken to the side of one of the gods, upon which they said, essentially, "what the fuck is going on" to which the god replied "you never allowed the gods out of your mind. You are one of the most devout people who ever existed." I think about this a lot when it comes to people who are desperate to overlay their own atheism (which, I should note, is fully valid in the real world, just not in Exandria) because, truly, they are constantly thinking of the divine and trying to make stories about the gods being wrong instead of just hanging out and watching the story.

When we look at people who are taking out their religious trauma, they are often recreating many of the same harmful group dynamics of organized religion, just dedicated to ideals other than a deity. It's that old discussion of how ex-fundamentalists still practice so many of the same thought patterns unless they put in a lot of active work to relearn it; they think removing the religion will fix them when the problem was always the behavior that people used the religion to justify. It's why (for example), and this is getting rather harsh, people who would rightfully be horrified by conversion therapy will, without blinking, remark things like "wow, I hope Jester nearly getting killed will make her realize she's a lesbian". The problem is not a belief in god; it's the belief that one's sexuality can be changed; that only some sexualities are correct to have; and that it's completely reasonable to say that a way to change a woman's behavior to what you want it to be is to threaten her life. They have not unlearned any of those beliefs, and instead of making the slightest effort themselves to grow and change and heal they look for fictional characters to prove their own rightness in perpetuating the same harm that was visited upon them, just in a different direction. So yeah, a character like FCG, who is growing and changing and exploring religion in a nuanced and neutral manner is a fucking threat to them.

#answered #kerosene-in-a-blender #critical role spoilers

[regular-lord-reckoner]

back by unpopular demand it's...me!

hi :3

uh so as of yesterday it's apparently somehow been six months since my dad passed which feels........utterly bizarre.

it feels like it's been a month at most to me and my mom.

like logically, yes, we know that much time has passed, but on another level it just...doesn't feel like it can possibly be that long. at all.

i'm really trying this time to not rush myself through anything, especially grief. i think that's part of why i got so stuck last time, i pushed myself to try to get back to normal too soon instead of just feeling what i feel.

it's not to say i'm not trying to work through it all or anything, but for me at least this shit just takes time.

i had a breakdown the other morning over fucking toaster strudels of all things, but they reminded me of him. it's one of those things he'd sometimes get from the store when he'd go grocery shopping and he'd always be so excited to tell me about them.

"i got us something there in the freezer," he'd say whenever i'd wander into the kitchen at some point

i miss so many moments like that, just the little interactions we'd have throughout the day.

i know i got to a point of being so completely burned out beyond belief that i didn't want to talk to anyone ever at any time and i wish i hadn't now because we could have had more of those moments, but it is what it is, i guess.

i'm still going to therapy and still trying to work through everything. i was doing all this work on primarily my mental health before he passed and then that became the main focus naturally so I'm slowly getting back to work on that as well.

My therapist also gave me a book to read she said would help me with some of the feelings i'm struggling with as far as feeling like everything and everyone else around me has moved on but i'm still stuck and all that so i'll be diving in to that soon.

i was doing okay for a while there as far as taking care of myself goes, but i think as we've gotten closer to the six month mark and that realization just keeps washing over me over and over again i've just been diving into work and chores and of course taking some time to just fuck off from work (but that usually means i end up doing work until right before bedtime so i'm trying not to do that as much.......still going to do some, though, they can't stop me!!)

that's been burning me out a little i can tell. so i'm trying to back off of that and actually i'm finally at a point with all my stuff where i'm caught up so that's a relief. there was some shit that went down a little while back that i might explain later in another post at another time but it ended up with one of my managers having to apologize to me over and over again because basically i wasn't doing something i was supposed to be doing but no one thought to tell me that soooooo i was unknowingly causing a bit of a clusterfuck for a lot of people so that was fun!!

also in more fun news my mom had to go to a walk-in last weekend (not this most recent one, but the one before that) because she woke up with a lot of pain in one of her arms. naturally the concern was for something heart-related but she said she didn't think it was that but more like a pinched nerve, so they checked her out at the walk-in and seemed to at least agree it wasn't her heart so that was good.

on the downside, though, after a few more tests since then it apparently is her neck. there's a bulging disc there that's indeed pinching a nerve and she's pretty sure she even knows which one in specific is the problem because it's also causing numbness in one of her fingers

i hope it's not something she ends up having to get surgery on, but i also hate seeing her in pain like this. both of her sisters had this same problem and ended up having to be operated on to fix it, so my mom's got an appointment coming up to have someone look at the tests she's had done so far over and assess the situation and i guess we'll go from there.

she's been able to get a little relief from some pain medication and even a round of acupuncture but it's been pretty rough on her. crazy how you can just wake up one day and just bam, some bullshit is going on!!!

anyway, aside from all of that we're doing okay. just taking each day at a time and am still squeezing in all the self care that i can and trying to be good to myself (although i can definitely tell i need to drink more water, i dunno why that's always one of the first things to go when it's like, dude, this literally has almost killed you, please drink the water, it's literally sitting right next to you at all times!!)

but yeah, dunno if i'll be on here more consistently or not; i don't want to promise anything i'm not sure i can keep because who knows how i'll feel tomorrow or a week from now or another month, another six, who knows! but!!

if you're reading this i hope you're doing well.

i know no matter what your circumstance is right now things in general are incredibly difficult and i hope you're also taking time to take care of yourself when/if you can.

i hope something really, really amazing happens this week. some really good news. for everyone.

anyway, i'll go now before i get too sappy but just wanted to end on a lighter note and wish you well. thank you for taking the time to give me and my troubles a moment of your time. have a good week! :3

#little update on how i've been if you're curious #and if not that's completely fine too!! #just take the :3

[swearingcactus]

NIBBLES NOOOO pls, I'm intrigued xDD

once again i'd like to put a disclaimer this one's a sad one despite having nibbles on the title :'D i answered with a previous snippet of it here, but here's another snippet of it! (also written before the whole date update happened, so kerry's never been to V's place in this one for now)

His holo rang, and V jumped, cringing again at the spike of pain in his abdomen as he did. He glanced at the holo image, and swallowed uneasily when he saw it was Kerry. He swipes to answer.  “Fucking vo–wait. Wait, V! You answered!” Kerry cried out, going from annoyance to surprise. He sits up properly on a sofa, V takes a minute to recognize it’s the one in his villa. “Holy fuck, I’ve been trying to get to you for days!”  V suppressed a wince, “Been busy.”  “Yeah, I, uh. Heard.” Kerry says, suddenly looking like he hadn’t expected the awkwardness of the situation. “You heard?” V asked, frowning. “Yeah, from Rogue.” Ah. V had called Rogue first thing in the clinic, once he was sort of lucid, to tell her Johnny was gone. He thought he kinda owed it to her, though it was probably leftover regrets from Johnny who always felt like he owed something to Rogue. Figures she’d tell Kerry. Or Kerry had called her up to get to the bottom of things. You never really quite know with those two. “Not like I couldn’t figure it out if she didn’t tell me, media blasted your footage once they got their hands on it.” Kerry added.  “Really, my face?” V asked, rather surprised. If it had, he doubted he could be walking around pretty idly so far.  “Nah, blurred face. But who else wears that prehistoric looking jacket around?” V felt a smile tried to tug at his lips, and was surprised that it didn’t manage to bloom on his face.  “How, uh, how’s it going?” Kerry asked, in a way that made it clear he doesn’t really enjoy being on this end of the conversation.  “Well,” V says, using his knees to support himself standing up, decided to just buy both tuna cans “It’s going.”  Kerry looked dismayed at his lackluster answer but tried another route stubbornly, “Right, uh. You look like you could use some drinks and a night out. What say you–” “Not allowed to drink right now.” V cuts in, not really having any energy to explain further, he rings up his items, forking eddies to the cashier who doesn’t seem to care, popping a bubblegum lazily at him. “Oh. Dang. Well, we could spend the night in instead. Ooh, hey, have you watched the final season of Little Big Corporat? I swear, this shit depletes brain cells but it’s actually addicting, I’m–” “Kerry,” V cuts him off again, “I gotta go, I have to feed Nibbles.” Kerry blinked at him, “Who?” “Nibbles. You know, Nibbles, my cat? I sent you a pic of her once?” “You have a cat…? What– oh, wait, yeah, I remember now, the one that looks like a rat.” “She doesn’t look like a rat,” V says, for the first time tone rising defensively. “Look, V. I know, it’s… Look, I’ve been there, okay, with the whole Johnny being dead…thing.” Kerry says, and glancing at Kerry’s face at the holo, it looked like he’s chewing sawdust to say it, “Anyway, I just don’t think you should be alone right about now��” V couldn’t stand to hear him anymore, “I’m not alone, I got Nibbles, and I gotta go. I’ll call you wh–” When I feel better? When I’m not dying? When what? “I’ll call you.” V corrects himself sharply, and he hung up.

despite my disdain of lil v's one way ticket to being alone, i always like making kerry as bad therapist and lil v as an even worse therapy avoider. ty for asking!!

#askingcactus #writingcactus #lil guy v

[ilikemuffins565]

Since everyone is doing headcanons for ejen Ali character's, thought I'd do one for my favorite boy **Bakar** :)

Tw: mentions about mental disorders

• He has terrible eating disorder, when he was a child , he was bullied so much by his weight that he started to starve himself

• Bottles up all his feelings so he could be manly then he will feel like he is weak and not manly

• Secretly and terribly touch starve

• Started to have attachment issues ever since his sister died

• Confused bi man

• Gets overly flustered when he is flirted back

• An absolute malewife

• Before he became an agent, he first wanted to be a boxer

• Therapist friend :)

• Took care of Ali every since he was 5-6 , because due to Ali dad stress and work, he didn't have time to take care of him

• He started to overworking himself, such as training for almost 24/7 or doing side missions to distract himself after his sister death

(Okay now for sum trauma tw : sa)

( You guys have noticed that Bakar is flirting less n less until it was s3??)

• Used to date someone ( Around s1 to s2) but then that person started to make Bakar more and more uncomfortable, since Bakar is very gullible, he doesn't know what to do if they started touching him in werid places or saying ( or texting)uncomfortable things to him

Example: " C'mon, if you love me then you would give me the picture" or touching his uh ( crotch)

• He then broke up with that person but can still remember their touch and taste, which made him more quite or cold towards other people

• Instead of just y'know going to therapy, he decided to hide it all with a act , he acts energetic and chill all the time so people wouldn't notice if he is acting any different

• He only wanted to become strong and manly so people will like him more but inside he just a sensitive little child

• Would have terrible nightmares about his sister death or on how he feels terrible guilty for getting Ali in so much danger

• Sometimes stays in his room and cry quietly, feeling like he was never a good uncle to Ali and thinks that Ali hates him for getting him in lots of danger ( Also thinks about if Ali did die in the battle between Niki then he would be forever alone)

#ejen ali musim3 #ejen ali #ejen bakar

[mlobsters]

random thought from last night, with having the demons alastair and crowley, makes an aleister crowley. of which i read the diary of a drug fiend back in the illuminatus and schrodinger's cat trilogies phase of life.

SAM Besides, I just figure it's best we keep busy. That's all.

DEAN Better than what?

SAM Nothing.

SAM Okay. Look...um...last few weeks, you've kind of been worrying me.

DEAN Oh, come on, Sam. Stop. Look, just because we're in the loony bin doesn't give you the right to head-shrink me.

SAM Dean--

DEAN Ellen and Jo dying--yeah, it was a friggin' tragedy, okay? But I'm not gonna wallow in it.

SAM Dean, you always do this. You can't just keep this crap in.

DEAN Watch me.

supernatural s5e11 sam, interrupted (w. andrew dabb, daniel loflin)

now he's been in a handful of things, seinfeld which i do remember because of the aforementioned all things seinfeld burned into my brain but also

get shorty (1995) jon gries as ronnie wingate

the x-files s2e4 sleepless - jon gries as salvatore matola

DR. FULLER Well, to be frank, uh, the relationship that you have with your brother seems dangerously codependent. I think a little time apart will do you both good.

the unnecessary prostate exams, less than delicate handling of mental illness, dean's....

DEAN I just got thraped. So, no, I am not okay. Tell me you found something.

ugh. also, unncessary hannibal silence of the lambs lip slurping noises. ew. and big ew to sam jamming that swab into the hole in dead ted's neck. that kind of thing usually doesn't get to me but that one i did ew out loud. and the causal sawing off his skullcap. okay.

there's a whole lot of this i don't like, but it is nice that dean gets to be honest with someone.

playing another doctor in a small but memorably distressing role

the magicians s2e5 cheat day - michelle harrison as dr higgins

DR. CARTWRIGHT Why you?

DEAN Why me, what?

DR. CARTWRIGHT Why do you have to hunt monsters? Why not let someone else do it?

DEAN Can't find anybody else that dumb. It's my job. Somebody's gotta save people's asses, yours included.

DR. CARTWRIGHT So, is there a quota? How many people do you have to save?

DEAN All of them.

DR. CARTWRIGHT All of them? You think you have to save everyone?

DEAN Yep. Whole wide world of sports.

DR. CARTWRIGHT How? Believe me, whatever you've got, I've heard weirder.

DEAN It's the end of the world, okay? I mean, it's a damn Biblical apocalypse, and if I don't stop it and save everyone, then no one will, and we all die.

DR. CARTWRIGHT That's horrible.

DEAN Yeah, tell me about it.

DR. CARTWRIGHT I mean, apocalypse or no apocalypse...monsters or no monsters, that's a crushing weight to have on your shoulders. To feel like six billion lives depend on you...God...how do you get up in the morning?

DEAN That's a good question.

(it's sam)

well i did not see her being a hallucination coming. so was it self-therapizing or wraith-directed therapy? nonetheless, he talked to someone.

SAM Most of the time, I can hide it, but...I am angry. I'm mad at everything. I used to be mad at you and Dad, then Lilith, now it's Lucifer, and I make excuses. I blame Ruby or the demon blood, but it's not their fault. It's not them. It's me. It's inside me. I'm mad...all the time...and I don't know why.

DEAN Stop. Stop it. So what if you are? What are you gonna do? You gonna take a leave of absence? You gonna say yes to Lucifer? What?

SAM No, of course not. I--

DEAN Exactly. And that's exactly what you're gonna do. You're gonna take all that crap and you're gonna bury it. You're gonna forget about it, because that's how we keep going! That's how we don't end up like Martin! Are you with me?

DEAN Come on, man. Are you with me?

desperate, sloppy, needy Dean indeed. with the stellar advice.

aLSO i'd like to note that i was very surprised with the pronunciation of castiel - that it was said castiEL instead of CAStiel. and i've noticed in the past handful of episodes more than one person, and i think sam in this one? saying it more like the latter. and i feel somewhat vindicated.

#supernatural #spn 5x11 #spnwatch #spnhiky #hiky #get shorty #the xfiles #the magicians #john gries #michelle harrison #andrew dabb #daniel loflin

[trekkele]

You mentioned in one of your tags that you'd like to write a fic where the batkids find out Alfred wasn't so awesome a parent to Bruce and I wanted to ask if you'd like to share some ideas and directions where you could imagine it going?

Would it change the way the kids think and act around Alfred? Or Bruce? And what are some Major Mistakes Alfred made that in retrospect make a lot of sense regarding Bruce's parenting? And what sent the boulder of realisation going in the first place?

I know it sounds like I'm asking for spoilers or the actual, complete plotline which you probably haven't thought out yet, but I'm just curious about various versions of situations and realisations you think could happen. Or things that you'd like to work into your fic but it just wouldn't fit.

Basically, I love your writing and I love this kind of DramaTM within the Batfam and I'd cherish any crumb of information you would like to share.

Thank you and have a wonderful day! <3

Ok so this premise does rely on good dad Bruce, not because shitty parents cant come from shitty parents (they do, usually) but because i think seeing Bruce not do the things Alfred does would be how the kids (specifically Dick) realize what kind of parent Alfred is.

And this is really a reaction to the “Alfred is a saint for putting up with Bruce” fandom attitude because if you, as a parent or a guardian, are incapable of parenting a kid, no matter how difficult that kid is, it is your responsibility to either find a way to become what your kid needs or find someone who can. I know a lot of us had shitty parents but a traumatized nine year old shouldnt be “put up with” or “handled” they should be parented. At the very least they should be loved, and they should know they are loved. (Gets off parenting soapbox, climbs onto fandom soapbox)

Also every time i think about this fic i start thinking “maybe Alfred deserves some more grace” because he was put in a pretty impossible situation immediately after losing two people he deeply respected, if not loved, and lets be reasonable the 80-90s were uh, not an ideal time for difficult parenting, and the therapy available for children back then would have probably made things worse if not outright given Bruce ptsd (if he didnt already have that), so theres that. On the other hand, Alfred is also fairly consistently shown as being deeply unkind about idiosyncrasies, and unwilling to admit when he’s wrong.

And theres only so many times you can call your adult child an idiot, and imply that you believe every one of their choices to be invalid or wrong, before it turns out that you are Part of The Problem, or at the very least, A Bitch.

Anyways.

The thing is, i dont think it would change much. I think they might stop taking Alfreds word as gospel, especially in regards to Bruce, and i think they might be more forgiving towards Bruce when he messes up in the long term, but the truth is that whats it going to change? How do you apologize to someone for that? What are you apologizing for?

Because ultimately i dont think Bruce is ready to admit that Alfred is, or was, wrong. Bruce knows he was a bad kid, a difficult kid. His teachers and his family and the newspapers, and even Alfred, have admitted that Bruce was a hard kid to raise. Probably harder to love. He’s never surprised when people leave him, after all.

He does know his own kids don’t deserve that style of parenting though. But thats because they’re better than him. He has to do better because they deserve better, because he chose to be there for them. Alfred never really got that choice, did he? Bruce’s parents trusted Alfred, and Alfred stayed out of his respect for them. Not the bratty kid who cried for a year and refused to speak and would hide under the bed instead of sleep.

And thats another thing - if Bruce admits that Alfred wasnt a good parent, if he admits that Alfred made some terrible mistakes, does that mean he’s betraying the trust his parents placed in him? Is he casting blame onto two people he can only idolize, because to do otherwise is to admit he doesn’t remember much of them anymore?

As for how the kids find out, i think Dick realized in his own. I think Jason realizes because Dick stops him from walking in and interrupting a conversation between the two and before he can ask whats going on he hears Alfred slap Bruce. Im not sure about the rest.

*i started answering this, got distracted, finished writing it in my head, and then forgot i never answered it in reality. But i think thats most of what i wanted to say.

#asks #but feel free to ask me something specific #i think hitting your adult child is a Big Deal #i think hittinh your child child is a Big Deal #but the batkids wouldbt be around to see it #and to answer this before it comes up #no i dont think alfred hit bruce. i think the slapping is a. like once a year thing #but it does display a level of comfort with that behavior that Jason would recognize #also once is too much lbr #i love alfred i do but WOW fandom refuses to engage with any of his more complicated behaviors #that man did a decent job with bruce but he absolutely fucked up in some way #cw abuse mention

[dragonmuse]

Omg, the multiverse dreamscape ficlet was *delightful*—I'm still cackling. I would love to see one with Eddy, too—I feel like that would get heated even faster!

Sure why not, we're already going down this bananas road, let's go ALL the way down.

Eddy would have a bar back room, but same setup, chairs in a circle. low hanging smoke. Mainverse hosting at the center. Farthest away from them is May Be Bad as well, but mostly because they are the only one who is covered in blood. They seem otherwise fine and are puffing away on a cigar provided by Wake Myself in the Shadows.

Mainverse: Good evening, various losers and fucknuts.

All: Fuck you.

Mainverse: Glad that we're starting with our traditional openers. All right, all right, agenda items...who wrote this? Why is it smeared in oil?

Bottle of Red: Sorry, got messy at work.

Mainverse: ...are you in porn?

Bottle of Red: I own a restaurant. Do we have a porn person?

Sadly, no one puts their hand up. Lots of disgruntled mumbling and offers of nomination.

Mainverse: Okay, introductions. You all know who I am, who the fuck are you?

Round of introductions.

Mainverse: Okay, everyone still with Stede?

May Be Bad: *soft sad sound*

Everyone else: *does them the courtesy of not looking their direction*

Mainverse: Okay, cool. Who's still...some of you are still fucking Izzy?

You're Awful: Yeah, what of it?

Bottle of Red: Most of us got over that. Like a while ago.

But Mostly I Hate: What do you mean go over it? Why would you want to get over it?

Mainverse: I can't believe I have to fucking ask this. How many of you are married to Israel 'Fuck You' Hands?

Three hands go up.

Breakfast Club: I mean we're not technically married, but we're part of a strong polycue.

Two others nod along with this.

Somewhere Only We Know: Wait, you guys knew Izzy before? Really? What was that like?

How 'bout Another First Kiss: Less lonely. And more lonely sometimes.

Mainverse:.... I could've been dreaming about getting dicked down, instead of the world's worst therapy session. This sucks. Okay fine. So those of you who are Stede plus others, who are the others? Aside from Izzy. Apparently.

Breakfast Club: Faith. Technically Mary.

Mainverse: Who the fuck is Faith? And what do you mean technically?

Take My Whole Life: What do you mean, who is Faith?

Mainverse: Wait, Izzy's girl? The dead one?

Take My Whole Life: What do you mean dead one?

I May Be Bad: I think I've seen her around.

Everyone goes very quiet, again not looking at them.

Take a Stand: I'm with Lucius, no one else?

Mainverse: ...please tell me your kidding.

You're Awful: She has to be. That's unacceptable.

Take a Stand: You all don't know what you're missing. His mouth-

Mainverse: Not another word out of you. Someone gag her.

Take a Stand: Oh I'd like to-

You're Awful: *tackles her to the ground, the two of them roll around on the floor taking hits at each other*

Mainverse: *steps over them as the roll by* Okay, who has eyes on the kids then? Alma and Charlie are okay?

Wake Myself: Charlie is NOT okay.

Mainverse: Because of the depression and shit?

Wake Myself: Wow. Uh, no because he's married to Izzy.

*the two on the floor stop wrestling, silence ensues*

Mainverse: *low, dangerous* you let WHAT happen?

Wake Myself: I wasn't there when it happened! I think he's older than your Charlie, it's all messed up. I didn't raise the kid.

Mainverse: *checks paper* I still feel like you should take some blame in this.

Wake Myself: And I think you should shut the fuck up. Just cause your shit is straightforward-

Mainverse: Striaghtforward! You don't know my life!

Somewhere Only: Uh, we do. That's the point of all of this.

Have a Little Faith: *up until now has been slowly doing their nails and chilling just behind Mainverse and occasionally elbowing Somewhere Only when they talk about Izzy, exchanging confused looks* There's a point to this? Were we supposed to like take notes or something?

Just Like a One-winged dove: You haven't been paying attention?

Have a Little: Like you have? C'mon, you know the late comer squad just hums along.

Mainverse: Squad?

Have a Little: Sure, there's a bunch of us that met Stede late. Way harder climb.

Breakfast Club: Yeah, it sucked. A lot.

Hello, Younger Lovers and How 'Bout Another very slowly start to inch away.

Mainverse: Yeah, okay, my condolences. What were we even supposed to talk about? *checks agenda again*

Somewhere Only: What if we just get drunk and not worry about it?

Mainverse: *throws away sheet* fuck yes. Great idea. Let's do that.

*two drinks in and things devolve into a brawl. No one wins. everyone wakes up with dry mouth and a headache.*

#I don't even know what to tag this #the waiting room maybe

[casketscratch]

cut for suicidal alter talk, fugues (i guess? like?), etc. we're fine, don't worry.

switched in this afternoon in the middle of a field, in the fucking winter cold, with my cheeks frozen and my fingers numb and no memory of how i got there. i remember starting to feel weird - like really, incredibly, righteously angry at everyone and everything. i was fucked up enough to recognize it and be like, why did i even wake up this upset? what is going on?

according to my phone i left the house at 1:20pm and just started walking. it was a mile and a half away that i switched back in and went, oh fuck. big snowy field i didn't recognize, lots of houses around, nothing i recognized, my teeth are chattering. used the gps on my phone to get back and walk home again.

i used to do this all the time. i used to come to somewhere near-ish to home, and have no real emotional... anything, about such an abrupt blackout. tnot really distressed or scared, just, we are in this situation now and it is my job to get us back. (and on some level much deeper down: it's terrifying, this is horrific, how are we this sick still, all of that.)

once it was in the ravine behind the house we grew up in, but i had buried myself under leaves and dirt, and tried to burrow. other times i'd be on the train tracks, waiting, or just walking down the street, trying to get as far from anything i knew as possible. that was like, the heart of it somehow: i never chose directions i knew, or places i recognized. maybe everywhere i knew felt unsafe? i'd believe that.

in the city it was different: i'd come to on my balcony, on the 30th-whatever floor, and i'd have this lingering compulsion to jump. to get out that way instead.

and what i'm realizing is that every time this has happened in the last few years, it's when we get exactly this far in therapy, i think. last week orion took the session and he's supposed to tomorrow, too. to start trying to deal with the... whatever it is. the programming, i guess. the, this thing that happens, where i'll literally go lay down on train tracks and then have to march myself home with no memory of why i did that beyond following "the rules." but it never feels big or dramatic or confusing enough to register as like, really incredibly fucked up and scary to experience until i'm calmly typing about it at a computer. they're suicide attempts a lot of the time, basically, and i have so far caught myself. but it's so frustratingly hard to figure out beyond that when it's just a black hole now. it all feels so mechanical.

also at no point prior to this would i have ever said i experience fugues like all the diagnostic shit asks, but now that i'm rereading all that, uh, oh right, that's a thing that used to happen semi-regularly. now, i guess, to be an optimist about it, they're at least rare enough we register them and can try to help.

i don't know. at this point i really just hope whoever it is feels okay about therapy tomorrow because i really don't feel like freezing my ass off again.

#all i wanted to do on the walk back was get fucking wasted #i still don't know what that's about #self-destructive urges all hands on deck kind of afternoon i guess