#TW self-harm

[vickriarts]

In honor of it being a year since I played Disco Elysium for the first time, here's a comic about how sometimes a good game is what it takes to be good to yourself.

This was a difficult comic to make as being vulnerable in my art is something I struggle with. But in the end it was very cathartic and I hope the message I tried to convey makes sense!

I wish I could meet that Harry cosplayer again someday...

#disco elysium #harry du bois #kim kitsuragi #disco elysium fanart #my art #tw alchoholism #tw self-harm #tw suicide #when I say difficult I mean I literally cried multiple times while writing/drawing this heh.....hehe....[sobs] #just have a lotta feelings

[pokeberry5]

insomnia.

#tim drake #dc #sart #tw self-harm #i was thinking about silverwhittlingkinfe's post about tim being introduced as a pair of eyes with this i think #realized i can post my animations as videos and /not/ have to ruin the quality

[ghostlyheart]

Claudia Appreciation Week Day 6: Womanhood & Coming of Age | @claudiadelionlac

#claudiaappreciationweek2023 #iwtv 2022 #interview with the vampire #ghostlygifs #this is kind of all over the place and at no point in making it did I have a super clear idea of what I was trying to do #im also not sure this actually communicates the idea of the prompt #but i made this instead of doing classwork so I can't justify to myself not posting it askdjks #rip claudia you would have loved marina and the diamonds #tw self-harm #tw blood #tw suicide

[obligatedart]

Watched the finale of The Crowded Room today, and jeez, what a show - and what a performance by Tom Holland! Just had to make some art!

#tom holland #beat up #bloodaesthetic #digital portait #the crowded room #danny sullivan #tw self-harm #blood

[elmhat]

// dsmp rp

@sam-and-dream-week day 5 — "lava"

TW: self-harm, abuse

“Sam!”

The lava wall was bright. Dream still felt his eyes burning, just a little, when he looked at it, but he had mostly gotten used to the pain. There wasn’t much else to look at in here.

“Sam!”

He imagined he could see him on the other side, standing tall and proud and unyielding. He was always standing like that. What would he look like without his armor? Dream genuinely couldn’t remember. He couldn’t really remember what anyone looked like besides Sam and Quackity, and Quackity hadn’t visited regularly in a long, long time.

“Sam! It’s serious, please!”

Lazily, Dream raised a hand in front of him, stopping just short of losing it to the light. It burned, being this close to it. It shimmered. Glowed, like the sun. It filled his soul with more warmth than most things could anymore. Slowly, carefully and slowly, he inched his hand forwards, until the edge of his palm was grazing the surface and he was hissing in pain, pulling back, but he forced himself to keep holding his hand near it anyway. It was warm. Dream wanted to feel warm.

A voice from beside him. “Stop! What are you—!”

Dream was grabbed, hauled backwards and thrown to the floor. He smiled up at Sam; he hadn’t seen him come through the wall of lava, but he had known that he would.

Sam seized Dream’s hand, taking one look before slapping it away again. “That’s it, that’s your emergency? How many times have I— You can’t just—”

“Sorry,” said Dream, automatic. Half of the words he said these days were sorry. But that was okay. Sam was still coming and going at the prisoner’s whim, like the loyal lapdog that he was. Dream still had him.

“This is the last time I’m coming in here because of your— issues,” said Sam, spitting the word like a curse. “Understand? This isn’t gonna be rewarded.”

“You said that last time,” Dream muttered.

“What was that?”

Dream knew that it wasn’t rhetorical, Sam wanted an answer. So fine. Dream answered. “I said, you said that last time,” he repeated.

Sam’s stare was piercing. There wasn’t much else to do when the fury was this blatant, so Dream smirked up at him, feeling pretty proud of himself. It was what he deserved. Sam, predictably, reached down, and he backhanded Dream hard across the face. He grabbed his chin before he could hit the floor.

“Do you want me to bring Quackity back here?” Sam asked him.

Dream searched his face for the sincerity of the threat, and he saw only the warden’s mask. He didn’t feel warm anymore. He felt very, very cold.

“Answer me.”

“No,” Dream said quietly. “No, warden.”

Sam remained silent. For a worrying few seconds, Dream feared that he had pushed it too far this time, but then Sam stood, releasing his face in a manner that ended up with Dream essentially thrown to the floor again.

“I’m not healing that for you,” said Sam over his shoulder.

Dream nodded. Good. He didn’t want to forget.

~

[ part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 ]

#tw self-harm #tw abuse #dreblr #c!dream #c!sam #drabbles #elm fics #my writing

[aeli-tan-art]

The Bad Batch - Reunion 0.5

EPOS + UE 5

audio: Pixabay

modern-classical-tense-sad-piano by: Ashot-Danielyan-Composer

#the bad batch #bad batch hunter #bad batch wrecker #star wars #self-harm #tw self-harm #blood #fanart #storyboard #animatic #Youtube

[lizzieonka]

I admit Kaiser suddenly choking himself does seem absurd in a football shounen manga, but it’s not like there hasn’t been signs of it. In the Ubers match, he already kept touching his neck… It’s kind of triggering to see how the fandom’s knee-jerk reaction to a character self-harming is to make fun of it and dismiss it as simply being ridiculous.

“It’s not that deep,” they say. Well, we haven’t seen Kaiser’s side of the story yet, so who knows if it’s actually not that deep. And even if it weren’t, to self-harm for such a “ridiculous” thing should still warrant concern. Because if he can harm himself for something small, he might just straight out kill himself for something big.

Harming oneself for “ridiculous” things is actually more common than you think. People tend to think that depression is only allowed for big problems, but the reality is that a lot of depressed people find their problems to be small and insignificant and not worth agonizing over. And knowing this, they feel all the more guilty for being weak and useless and then beat themselves up even more.

I’m no psychologist, so I dare not diagnose what the hell Kaiser is going through. But as someone who once went too close to the edge of a cliff, I can’t help but sympathize with him.

#self-harm #tw self-harm #suicide mention #michael kaiser #blue lock #blue lock manga #blue lock spoilers #miyamiwu.tol #miyamiwu.src #choking #choking tw

[novasintheroom]

Hi! First of all, I adore your writing and wanted to ask, could I request a short drabble/one-shot of either Vash or Wolfwood reacting to y/n's past self-harm scars? I've been feeling a little down lately and your work brings me so much comfort. Of course only if you're comfortable about writing with such request in mind! Thank you

Scars

♡ Pairing - Wolfwood x Reader

♡ Word count - 1.3k

♡ Warnings - mentions of past self-harm, scars

♡ Description: It's a hard night, remembering what's in the past.

A/N: Thank you for this request! I hope I did it justice. The research I did on writing for SH generally said to not glamorize it, so I hope that makes sense for the descriptions I chose to use.

For anyone struggling with self-harm or suicidal thoughts, please reach out to professionals for help. Dial 988 if you're in the U.S. to talk to someone, or text HOME to 741741 (again if you're in the U.S.).

They’re dim in dying light. Sometimes red, sometimes silver. Jagged. Some crisscross like battle lines, others are just there like a monster came by and left its mark over and over again on your arms.

You tug down your sleeves when Nico walks back into camp.

“Well,” he says, looking self-satisfied, “looks like the others are trekking to the town to get supplies. We get to guard the car.” He looks at you mischievously. “We’re all alone.”

You give him a shaky smile, mind still flicking the images of your scars through its eye. Nico scoots over to where you’re sitting on your bag of supplies and leans a shoulder against yours. “Sooo…” he reaches for your arm.

You stand suddenly, and Nico is left fumbling, trying not to fall into the sand. “I’ll go get the wood out of the trunk.” Nico stares up at you, dumbfounded and suspicious. Lamely, you say, “it’s getting cold tonight.” You flee before he can say anything, though you still hear him grumble.

The wood is splintery and dry. It scratches at your sleeves, poking at your soft skin and you try to not spiral, try to put on a brave face as you dig out space in the sand and line the logs one by one, then the scraps of junk and paper for kindling. Nico goes about getting food out of the truck. Just because you two were left behind didn’t mean you had a free night. It was time to cook dinner and have it ready for everyone when they get back.

Once the food is cooking, however, Nico’s attention is back on you. He smiles through his smoke, blue-gray in the firelight. “So, can I sit by my girlfriend, or are you gonna run again?”

Your shoulders hunch at being called out. “I didn’t run!” Even your voice sounds petulant, and you give him a half-hearted glare as he squats by you again.

“Oh, sorry, I meant flee for your life.” He slaps your arm good-naturedly and sits next to you on his own supplies. “Just warn me next time, almost got a mouthful of sand for dinner.”

You hum, deigning to watch the fire flicker and burn. Nico smiles and pulls you close, and you let him, leaning into his chest, and readjusting your seat. You’re careful to keep your hands away from him, not wanting a repeat of earlier.

For the next half hour, Nico soothes you into comfort. You talk together about the day, the gripes you have, and what you’re planning on doing tomorrow (likely a whole lot of driving again). It’s easy, talking with him. He’s a natural conversationalist and cracks enough jokes to have you laughing in the night.

He’s also one to not let something go if it bothers him. Eventually, he pulls you close and whispers in your ear, “So you wanna tell me why me touching your arms is bugging you tonight?”

Damn him. He’s too observant for his own good. You squirm under his scrutiny, feeling a sweat work up on your neck. “I’m not…” you start.

“Doll.” His voice is firm. Still gentle, but he’s not taking ‘no’ for an answer.

So you sigh, and slowly, you pull up an arm sleeve. It’d nearly killed you all day, wearing the sleeves instead of your usual tank top, but that’s the price to pay for insecurity sometimes. The cooling desert air is a balm to your overheated skin. Still, an ugly frown marks your face. There they are. The scars. “It’s…a hard day today.” You admit.

Nico hums, rubbing your shoulder and looking at the scars. You feel your skin crawl, knowing he’s seeing them. Doesn’t matter how often he does, it’s still a point of shame for you. You pull your sleeve back down, and you feel hotter for it, the cold of the air no longer helping relieve the heat.

But Nico doesn’t let you hide this time. Instead, he grabs your arm and pulls the sleeve up again.

“Nico,” you warn.

He still pulls. Your scars breathe air again. You can feel each one of them, like worms crawling under your skin. It itches. They’re long healed over, the scabs are months gone, but they still itch tonight.

Nico thumbs over them softly. Each one. It helps the itchiness a little. He doesn’t kiss them, like he does sometimes. His gaze is sad, and far too real for your liking. “I wish you loved yourself like I love you,” he finally says.

A pit drops in your stomach. You pull your arm from him and turn away. You don’t know what to say, but you feel mad. Angry. “I do love myself,” you bite.

Nico stares at your back. Do you? You still pull the sleeve back down, rubbing at the scarring underneath. “I don’t mean the scars, hon. I mean I wish you’d let me love you – all of you.” He carefully places a hand on your back and rubs it. “Scars and all.”

You feel your shoulders shake as you hold back tears. This was a lot. Too much. You didn’t want to talk about this. Yet your mouth opens, and you say, “It’s always going to be there. They’re always going to be there.” The warble in your voice cracks at the end.

Nico turns your head back to him with two fingers. He sighs, takes a long drag of his cigarette, and lets it hang in the corner of his mouth. “What’s makin’ you think this?”

What doesn’t? When you see the clear arms of other women, when others wear jackets just because they’re cold. Your lip wobbles, and you look down. “They’re ugly,” you finally sob. “Y-You shouldn’t have to look at them every time we…do anything. Hug, kiss, they’re just…always there, always staring at me, and you hate them too, I can see it, you – “

“Hey, hey, shh…” Nico pulls you close as he can and rubs your hair, your sobs shaking your shoulders and tears staining his jacket. “Now, what’d I say about putting words in my mouth?” He chuckles a bit sadly. “You’re breaking my heart here, doll. I don’t hate ‘em.”

You don’t believe him. Not really. You pull back and give him a frown. “You’re just saying that.”

He sighs again and looks away. Pulls out another cigarette – the last one going out – and lights it. His hand stays on your shoulder, making sure you don’t pull away. “They’re not glamorous,” he says, blowing smoke at the stars. “Shouldn’t be. But they’re part of you now. Shows you survived a lot your mind tried to put you through.” He leans forward and nods at your scars. “That’s more than a lot of people can say. Can’t tell you how many friends and people I’ve found who…” His eyes go blank for a moment before snapping back to reality. He grunts and shakes his head. “Just…”

Nico grabs your arm gently now, thumb running along the bumpy lines. His nose scrunches, but he gives you a smile. “Just, promise me you’ll come to me first. For anything.” He leans forward and gives you a long, long stare. “Even if it’s stupid. Even if it’s something small. It matters. You matter. And this?” He lifts your arm. “Is in the past now. You’ve managed to stop. Do you know how much strength that takes? And even if you go back to it, even if you…hurt yourself again – which you better not – I’ll be here. I’m not going anywhere.” He laughs then and raises his brows. “I mean, have you seen Vash? Dude’s a walking scar, and I’m still stickin’ by him.”

You let out a watery laugh. It turns into another sob. Nico shushes you and pulls you to his chest again. “Bad analogy,” he admits, and says a quiet sorry. “You ain’t like him. You’re way too pretty for that.”

“Shut up,” you say, laughing and crying, “just shut up.”

He does. Instead, he kisses you, slow and steady. And maybe this wouldn’t solve everything. You may have many more nights like this. But with Nico, everything felt a little better.

#trigun #trigun stampede #tristamp #writing #self insert #reader insert #nova writes #trimax #ww x reader #wolfwood x reader #nicholas d. wolfwood x reader #nicholas d. wolfwood #tw self harm #tw self-harm #self-harm #self harm #anonymous #anonymous ask #request #nova answers

[solbach-colbrock]

Balcony - Seth Borden x Reader

SUMMARY - Seth, your best friend and crush, learns about the state of your mental health when an investigation starts affecting you. His response isn't quite what you expected

WARNINGS - Ghost stuff, mentions of self-harm and suicide (reader is NOT okay), angst (fluffy ending)

WORDS - 6.6k

NOTES - first fic I’ve written in a while and it ended up very dialogue heavy. I also didn't expect it to be this long but here we are

~*~*~*~

Sometimes you weren’t sure why you trusted these boys so much. Sam had requested two things of you for this investigation: one, that you didn’t do any research beforehand so you’d learn the lore from the guide, and two, that you all arrive in the same car so you can have the drive up experience with everyone else. You had gotten into the habit of arriving to locations early to scope the place out before anyone else and doing research before investigations, and the boys started to get pouty about not sharing the experiences, so you complied. It had also been a while since you’d been on an investigation with Seth, so you were excited to see him again. 

You had met Seth after the Sallie House investigation. The boys had immediately FaceTimed you after both the Sallie House and Villisca investigations (and every investigation thereafter that you weren’t involved in) to tell you what they had experienced, and he caught your attention quite quickly. The excitement in his voice and energy about his experiences drew you in somehow more than the other three did, despite Nate practically jumping around the room when he was talking about the 8-ball. You’d been friends with him ever since and loved teaming up with him whenever possible. You had even been on his channel a few times.

To say you two were close was something of an understatement. He had started calling you after his own investigations, and even showed up to your house all hyped about some evidence he caught on numerous occasions. The two of you had grown comfortable with one another very quickly. You had shared beds when locations didn’t have enough for everyone, you constantly teased one another, and you were more than a little physically affectionate with each other. Josh often teased you for being so affectionate, but you were comfortable. 

The first time the teasing bothered you happened only a few months ago. Josh, along with Sam and Colby, had been making jokes about you and Seth being practically married. You were about to respond with a bad joke about finishing paperwork, but Seth replied first. The laugh that broke up his words when he said he could never be with someone like you hurt.  The fact that he found the whole concept funny enough to laugh at shattered any shred of self-confidence you had left in you. He thought you were gross. You swallowed the pain and laughed along with him, but every interaction with him from then on made you feel guilty for bothering him so much.

Eventually, it got easier to act normal again, but the thought that maybe he was serious about what he said still lingered.

The majority of the hour-long drive to the location consisted of Sam and Colby quietly discussing their plans in the front seat, and you and Seth fighting over a bag of gummy worms in the back. Colby finally intervened when you managed to slap Seth in the shoulder with one. 

“Let’s film the intro before these two start a war in the back seat. Everyone ready?” Colby cut in, taking what felt like the 10th right turn the whole drive. Everyone settled, and Sam hit record. 

“What’s up guys, its Sam and Colby, and today we are bringing Seth and Y/N to the famous Haunted Miller House in Fredericktown, Missouri. We are currently… fifteen minutes away from the house. How’s everyone feeling?”

“I’m excited bro. I’ve been wanting to come here for like, almost two years,” Seth admitted as he leaned forward in his seat. You leaned in as well to be heard better by the camera.

“I’ve said this before, but the fact that it’s a house freaks me out just a bit. It screws with my sense of security when we do haunted houses, like, homes are where you’re supposed to feel safe and there’s fucking spirits here. No thank you.” 

“I’ll keep you safe, don’t worry,” Seth replied. You raised your eyebrow at him.

“Oh what, Ghost Bait’s gonna protect me? No thanks, I’ll just smoke the sage.”

“Ouch, damn, alright. Fuck me, I guess.”

“Damn, roasting him back here. Colby how do you feel about this place?” Sam turned the camera forward to the driver's seat, missing Seth’s pout and your finger heart to apologize for the joke. It was all in good fun and both of you knew that. It was funny to play it up for the camera.

Two minutes away from the house, Sam pulled out the camera again. It felt like you were almost out in the middle of nowhere, even though town was less than half an hour down the road. The property sat on 15 acres of land, which was mostly forest save for the few acres that were cleared out for the house and yard. What was once farmland on the south side of the property had overgrown and been reclaimed by nature, though it was still obviously used for farming at some point. As soon as the house was in sight, everyone let out their excitement for the camera.

The house was beautiful, even in its decaying state. Nobody had dared to actually live there since the 1890s, and it sat abandoned until the 1970s, when it was taken over for paranormal research. Many investigators had come through the place, and unfortunately in the early days of it being open to the public, many frauds had come through. It had been closed again in 1994, and only reopened by approved booking only since 2014. 

The house was three stories, in an almost Victorian style, with a white exterior and a deep green trim. Large windows covered a rounded section on the northeast corner of the house. Even with the peeling paint, it still held a certain elegance. Your jaw dropped at the sight.

“There’s a fucking wrap around porch are you shitting me?!” you exclaimed, admiring the architecture as Colby drove slowly closer. 

“This place is sick, dude. The architecture is amazing,” Seth commented.

“Haunted or not, I’d kill to live in a house like this. Let’s just move in and pretend there’s no ghosts,” you joked. Something clicked in Sam and Colby’s minds the longer they looked at it.

“Doesn’t it feel a bit like the Winchester Mystery house? Just a bit?”

“I was just thinking that, yea. A little bit, like just the style sorta…” 

As Sam and Colby continued talking to the camera, your eyes drifted up to a balcony on the third story, just barely visible from the front of the house. The railing matched the deep green trim of the house, and three large windows lined the wall behind it. You couldn’t figure out why it intrigued you so much. It was just a balcony, though you were sure the view over the north side of the property was amazing You hadn’t even noticed that the car had stopped until Colby opened the door to the back seat. 

“You comin’? We can take a minute here if you’re too nervous.”

“No I’m good, just spacing out a bit. I may need to crack open a RedBull already.”

“Don’t drink it all just yet. We’ve got a long night ahead of us. Come on, help me grab the equipment and we’ll head inside.”

Sam broke the news that the guide was running late, but they had told him where they kept a hidden key, so the four of you let yourselves in and decided where to set up home base for the night. Sunset wasn’t for another hour, so none of the rooms on the first floor felt very spooky just yet. You decided the living room felt the best, and everyone got to work checking batteries and equipment. 

“I’m gonna go wander around for a bit, see if I can find the bathrooms in this place,” you announced, having finished helping Sam sort out batteries and making sure your own camera was fully charged.

“Dpn’t fall in,” Seth joked as he messed with the settings on his camera. You flipped him off and wandered towards the staircase, shaking your head as the boys laughed behind you.

“Hey Y/N!” Sam called out.

“Yeah?”

“Guide should be here in about 20 minutes, make sure to get back down here by then!”

“I will!”

The house seemed fairly well preserved, though you assumed it had been at least a bit fixed up since the 90s. The winding staircase going up the entirety of the home seemed a bit too sturdy for its age. There was a large room on the second floor that looked to be a study or small library, with dust covered books lining the walls. There were two decent sized bedrooms on that floor as well, and two bathrooms, which you took a dutiful mental note of. 

The third floor was fairly similar, but with three bedrooms, and instead of a study there was a room that you presumed was a sort of living room area. There were gorgeous antique couches and rugs, mostly free of dust. Curtains, strangely, only lined two large windows on the east side of the room The windows on the north side were very bare, as was the door next to it. The door leading outside to the balcony. You walked towards the door, using a fair amount of force to nudge it open. It swung outwards, and the light breeze cooled your face as you stepped out. 

The view was beautiful, just as you had anticipated. You could smell the fresh air as it blew by you, feel the chill on your cheeks. You could almost imagine yourself laying in the large grass yard at night, listening to crickets and staring up at the stars. You told yourself you had to come back here once the sun went down, even for a five second glance at the cosmos. There was bound to be almost no light pollution, and you’d definitely need some pictures. 

The wood of the railing felt rough against your fingers, almost bumpy as you pulled yourself closer to it. You hadn’t quite realized how high up you were until you looked down. You stretched up to your toes to get a better feel for the height and then…something changed. Something felt different the moment you looked as far down as you could manage. Your hands gripped the railing, but somehow you felt oddly at peace. You couldn’t move your gaze from its downward position, but you didn’t want to anyways. You let your eyes unfocus, and you took a deep breath. Something about this view felt so… final. Your ears were ringing.

Normally you steered clear of heights, too afraid of your own thoughts and impulses to allow yourself near them. In this moment, it wasn’t the same. You welcomed it, whether by choice or not, you welcomed the feelings that were coming to the surface. You focused on the view. The changing view. It was changing…

A hand on your shoulder snapped you from your stupor, your head whipping in the direction of the sensation. Seth looked at you, wide eyed and confused. Your ears stopped ringing. 

“Are you good? I’ve been calling your name for a solid minute here. Did you see something?” You blinked, risking a glance back out over the trees.

“Uh, no, no. It’s just really pretty out here. Admittedly I did space out a bit, but I’ve just been looking,” you said, still unsure of what just happened. 

“I thought you were afraid of heights, why the hell were you looking down like that?”

“I don’t know, just… just looking around, honestly.”

“Well the guide got here ten minutes ago, I’ve been looking for you. Let’s head downstairs and get you an energy drink on the way.”

“Yea… you know what, I’ll meet you down there. I just want to get some pictures really quickly.”

“You left your camera downstairs. Are you positive you’re okay? You seem a bit out of it.”

“I’m fine Seth. I just want another minute.”

“Okay no, we’re going. You’re acting weird and I don’t want this to be some ‘call of the void’ shit. Let’s go.” His hand once again made its way to your arm, but you resisted his pull. You didn’t mean to, you fully intended to listen and go with him, but your body decided otherwise. “Y/N, you’re starting to freak me out.” Another arm planted itself around your waist, and you were brought inside. The moment you passed through the doorway, the pull you were feeling was gone. “You wanna tell me what the fuck that was about?”

“I don’t- I think I’m just nervous to be in here. You know how I am about houses.”

“We’re safe, we’re gonna sage as soon as the guide leaves. If anything goes sideways, we’ll leave, alright? Let’s get downstairs. They’re waiting for us.”

~*~*~*~

Marsha had a very captivating way of telling stories. You had heard plenty of guides tell their stories about their paranormal experiences and the lore of the locations, but she had done a good job of keeping your interest and making the stories seem just as scary as they actually were.

“Wait, so Edwin, the father, cheated of Gwendolyn with six different women, and then when she found out, she shot him in the cellar, went upstairs, locked all four kids in one of the bedrooms, set them on fire, and then killed herself?” Colby attempted to recap the story that she had just told. He was in a chair next to her, Sam holding the camera standing across from Colby. You and Seth were spread on on a couch across from her, listening intently. Your legs were halfway across the couch, knees bent slightly so as not to jab Seth in the leg with your boot. He leaned forward as Colby spoke, elbows meeting his knees and hands coming up to cover his mouth in shock.

“Yea, you’ve got it just about right there,” Marsha replied nodding. Sam chimed in with his own question from behind the camera. 

“So, what would you say are the most active areas of the house?”

“Most people that come through here say that the cellar, the dining room, the room where the kids died, and the balcony up on the top floor are the most active. You get a lot of stuff happening there. Some people hear stuff, some even smell stuff, and your equipment should be pretty responsive in those areas as well.”

“What’s significant about the dining room and the balcony?” Seth asked.

“Well people have claimed to hear a number of things in the dining room, whether its parties or Edwin and Gwendolyn arguing and throwing things at each other. We’ve even come in to see some of the dinnerware smashed when nobody had been inside for three days. The balcony is where Gwendolyn jumped off and killed herself. Y’all should be careful up there.”

“Hold on, she jumped? I read that she shot herself or drank poison or something. I didn’t see anything about her jumping to her death.”

“People used to think it was something else because of a fake medium that came through here in the 70s or 80s, but we’ve learned the truth since. By the way, if any of you struggle with depression, if you self-harm or think about suicide at all, I'd advise you don’t set foot on that balcony. It affects people that have that kind of thing bad enough.”

“How does it affect people?” You finally speak up, trying your best to keep your voice and expression one of genuine curiosity. You didn’t want the dread to show. You hoped she would say anything but what she was about to say.

“Well nobody’s thrown themselves off or anything, but it definitely picks up on those feelings and seems to amplify them. We’ve had a few guests and mediums tell us that they felt what Gwendolyn probably felt before she jumped. They said they felt rooted to the spot staring off that balcony, like they couldn’t move. They didn’t say they were scared when it happened, but they felt like they needed to be there, and they thought about jumping even though they couldn’t move. It’s only ever been people that hurt themselves or are already thinking about suicide, as far as we’re aware. So now we warn everyone about that. No depressed people on the balcony, we don’t need any more ghosts,” she explained, adding a small laugh to her final sentence. 

You looked at the camera, feigning a surprised face. You could feel Seth’s eyes on you, but you couldn’t look at him. Your cheeks felt hotter than they had a moment before. He had connected dots that you had hoped he would never connect, and now you couldn’t look at your best friend. You all thanked her, and you tried to be casual about your goodbyes. The front door clicked shut behind her. Sam and Colby went to gather equipment for the first investigation, leaving you and Seth alone in the living room. 

“Tell me what happened on the balcony wasn’t what she was just talking about.” There was a faint shake in his voice, as if he was scared of what you might say. He stood behind the couch now, a few feet from where you were still seated, eyes boring a hole into the back of your neck. You tried to think of a quick lie. 

“It wasn’t. I genuinely went up there to get pictures,”. You claimed. You shifted sideways on the couch. You were still too nervous to look at him directly, but you wanted to acknowledge him.

“Without your camera? With the heights? Y/N, you’ve always asked me to get the pictures that are anywhere near any sort of drop, even with guardrails and shit. You understand why I don’t believe you, right?”

“I am begging you to believe me, Seth. When have I ever shown signs of being depressed? I’m fine!”

You weren’t fine, and up until this moment Seth believed you every time those words left your mouth. You had developed quite the skill for hiding your issues, even from the people closest to you. Your mental health had been getting worse and worse, finally devolving into its current tragic state only a few months ago. You were so scared at first that they would spot the wounds on your wrists and hips immediately, but you had no such fear anymore. You had been hiding too well to worry up until now. 

You never wanted him to know, never wanted any of them to know. You didn’t want to bother them with this when they had their own lives to live and personal stuff to deal with. You didn’t want to hear the anger in their voices if they ever found out, didn’t want them to think you were weak or pathetic, but you couldn’t hide it anymore. Not from him.

“Please just tell me the truth. You don’t have to tell me how bad it is, but you need to tell me if it is bad, because not only am I incredibly scared that you haven’t told anyone about this, but this is also about your safety right now. If you’re- fuck, Y/N/N, if you're hurting yourself or thinking about killing yourself, we can’t go anywhere near the third floor. I might just take you home because I don’t want to risk this. Please just tell me nothing's wrong because I don’t want to believe what I’m hearing.” His voice was clearly cracking now, and you felt a pain in your chest every time you heard it.

 As you finally turned to look at him, your hear shattered. Seth didn’t cry often, but the tear tracks lining both his cheeks were so obvious. More tears spilled from his eyes as you looked at him, the look in his eyes a silent plea for you to convince him that he doesn’t have to worry about you. You felt so guilty seeing him like this. 

“Whoa, what’s wrong? Seth, what happened?” Sam’s voice came from behind you. You sighed and shook your head at Seth, whose eyes still hadn’t looked away from you. It was bad enough he knew; you didn’t want to drag anyone else into this. A beat of silence passed before he spoke. 

“Y/N can’t go near the balcony,” Seth said simply, allowing the others to figure out what he meant.

“Actually? Like Y/N… fuck, really?”

You closed your eyes in defeat, resting your head in your hands. The couch cushion dipped next to you as a hand was gently placed on your shoulder. Your knees drew closer to your chest. You hoped that, somehow, if you curled up and closed your eyes, this would just go away. 

“Look, we’re not gonna make you do anything like that, especially if it’ll affect you negatively. Even if I’m assuming wrong here, which frankly I hope I am, and it’s just the heights that are freaking you out-“

“It’s not the fucking heights, Colby. It’s not- they were on that fucking balcony earlier before the guide showed up, staring at the fucking ground. I had to physically drag them inside because they wouldn’t come in when I asked. It only fucking affects people who- God damn it. It’s already affected them and I want to get them the fuck out of this house,” Seth interjected. He was pacing now, picking at the sleeves of his flannel. You had never seen him this freaked out by anything. Colby’s hand moved from your shoulder to your back. You still didn’t want to look anyone in the eye, opting to peek through the gap between your knees to look around the room. 

“I-… I don’t know how long you’ve been feeling like this, and I do think we should talk about it at some point because trust me, its really important to talk to people about this stuff, but I kinda agree with Seth that you should probably sit this one out.” You whipped your head up and jumped from the couch, moving yourself across the room from everyone.

“No, for god's sake I’m a grown adult. I can make these decisions for myself. Put me on a leash if it’ll make you feel safer but I’m not leaving. I’ve been wanting to come here for months. Can we talk about this after we investigate, please? I’m not missing out on an investigation because you guys are overprotective. I’ll be fine.”

The silence that followed your words was tense. Sam and Colby looked back and forth between everyone, but you and Seth just stared directly at each other. The gears were turning in both of your heads, deciding what to do or say from here. 

“The millisecond you feel like you want to go up there you tell someone. Immediately. You can’t go anywhere alone, no solos. I’m not even gonna give you the luxury of pissing by yourself while we’re here. Stick with us at all times, hold my hand, whatever you need to do to stay away from that balcony. I will handcuff us together, I swear to God. I hate this but if you stay in my sight I’ll deal,” Seth rambled, stepping closer to you. 

You knew damn well that he would absolutely physically attach himself to you if he thought it was necessary. You also knew that there was no escaping the inevitable conversation that you really didn’t want to have. The investigation gave you time to prepare, or more favorably, give them a chance to forget that you’re not okay. As much as you wanted to go back to the balcony, you knew that realistically, they wouldn’t let you, which was probably for the best. Your arms crossed themselves over your chest. 

“Fine, fine. As long as I get to stay. Where’s our first stop here?”

~*~*~*~

True to his word, Seth did not leave your side the entire night. Even when he went under for an Estes session, he kept a hand on your knee, and kept a tight grip on your ankle when you went under later in the night. The higher in the house you got, the more you could feel the pull. Your name had come up a few times during the night, usually followed by ‘follow’ or ‘up’, which didn’t sit well with any of the boys. If the cameras weren’t such a constant presence, he would’ve had a firm grip on your waist, but instead he opted for the bottom of your shirt and your belt loops so the cameras wouldn’t pick up so much of the constant touch. You wanted to be annoyed, but you couldn’t exactly complain about having him so close for hours at a time.

The only place left was the balcony. The boys seem in consensus that Sam and Colby would investigate out there, and you and Seth would take one last crack at the dining room. You, however, had another idea.

“Can you give me the courtesy of hearing me out on an idea real quick? I know none of you like it, but I think we all know the best evidence we could get on that balcony is if I’m out there. It would- don’t look at me like that, I’m right. I’m not gonna jump or anything. Look, I was feeling something when I was out there earlier, I was seeing things, but Seth pulled me back before I could figure out what it was. I know my limits, just trust me,” you pleaded. 

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be out there. Even if there wasn’t a risk to your safety, this could trigger you or something. I just don’t think that’s worth the risk,” Colby argued. You looked to Sam for help, but you knew he agreed with Colby. “Besides, if people know the lore and then see you being affected by this, they’re gonna do the math. I mean, is that really something you want fans to know?”

“Fuck the fans and frankly, fuck the cameras. You know I rarely feel stuff like this during investigations. This is real, man. I was drawn to it before I even knew what happened out there. I wasn’t even trying to learn anything, I had zero intentions besides exploring the house, and it was that strong? We can't just ignore that. This will be good evidence and you know it, even if it’s just for ourselves.”

“I fucking hate this,” Seth mumbled, pulling you closer to him. “I’ll let you out there on two conditions. One, that I hold onto you the entire goddamn time we’re out there, and two, we have this conversation right after we finish, out in the yard. As much as I want to do it the second the cameras are off, I don’t want anything in this house feeding off of that energy.”

“You’ve been holding me this entire time, I wouldn’t expect any less right now. Yard would be smart… I just don’t want to talk about it at all. I’d rather pretend everything’s normal but you’re not gonna let that slide.”

“Well it isn’t normal, and we’re gonna address it. Now, do you want me to hold your hand or what? What’s the plan out there?”

“Estes? I can go under and hold the railing. I feel like that would be at least a decent trigger, give us some good results. If nothing else, I can just stand there for a bit and tell you what happens. It honestly felt like scrying just without the mirrors,” you suggested. 

“This is insane, I can’t believe you want to do this,” Sam said. He handed you the blindfold. 

“You spent the night in the conjuring basement Sam, you can’t say shit.”

“Fair.”

~*~*~*~

“Okay guys, we are about to do something… unusual for our last investigation tonight. This balcony is said to have a weird energy about it, and Y/N thinks they can tap into it. Now, even though our guide said there was no real safety issue up here, we’re still gonna be as careful as possible, so Seth is gonna hold onto Y/N while they go under for one final Estes session,” Sam explained to the camera. He pointed it towards you, already pressed up to the railing with Seth’s arms firmly around you. You slipped the blindfold and headphones over your ears, and focused on the static. The boys started with their questions.

“Gwendolyn, are you here with us?”

“Me. Hello.”

“Hi Gwendolyn. We just want to ask you a few questions. We mean you no harm, we just want to communicate and tell people your story. Can you tell us how you died?”

“Husband.”

“Husband… there is that theory that Edwin actually killed her and that he was the one that set the fires, and then killed himself in the cellar out of grief. Do you think-“

“No. No.”

“No, so you did kill yourself?”

“That’s correct.”

“Gwendolyn, why do you draw people to this spot? Do you want them to know how you felt when you died?”

“Feeling. It hurts. Can’t understand.”

“We’re so sorry that you had to go through that. You didn’t deserve for your husband to treat you like that.”

“Why did you kill your children, Gwendolyn?”

“Don’t talk about-… fuck you.”

“Damn, she does not want to talk about that.”

“Leave me alone. I’m going.”

“Where are you going?”

“Down. Down.”

“We want to ask you a few more questions, is that okay?”

“Deserve this. Nobody loves-… not worth anything.”

“That’s not true. You didn’t deserve wha happened to you. We’re so sorry you didn’t have a happier life.”

“Taking them with me.”

“Taking your kids with you?”

“Let go. Off. Borden. Go away.”

“Oh fuck no, We’re ending this.”

“Y/N. With me. Jump.”

Seth yanked you back from the railing as Colby pulled the headphones and spirit box away from you. You were drained all of the sudden, feeling a bit shaky and dizzy. Normally you needed to be under much longer for it to get to you, but this session really took it out of you, physically and emotionally. You didn’t even know what you had been talking about but you didn’t feel fantastic. He pulled the blindfold off your face when you didn’t move to take it off.

“That was fucked up. We’re never doing anything like that again.”

“What was the conversation? Did it make sense?”

“We’ll talk about it downstairs. I don’t want us to be up here anymore, but it made perfect sense. That was terrifying.”

~*~*~*~

The grass was soft, having benefitted from the recent week of rainfall. The stars littered the sky above you, giving you something to focus on other than the heavy silence between you and Seth. Sam and Colby were packing up the last of the equipment in the house, giving the two of you space to talk.

“It was like… the feelings weren’t mine. I fully felt them but it wasn’t coming from me? It’s hard to explain. It was intense.”

“We need to talk about your feelings. You keep dodging the issue and talking about Estes. You agreed we would talk.” You crossed your arms over your chest in an attempt to tamp down the nerves buzzing behind your rib cage. 

“I know, I know. Fuck, I never wanted anyone to know. I don’t even know how to talk about it. I don’t want to make this your problem.”

“You’re not making it my problem, it isn’t a problem in the first place. It is, however, my business when the people I love are hurting and I have the ability to do something about it. Just… don’t worry about phrasing it correctly, just say whatever comes to mind and we’ll make sense of it together. How long have you felt like this? How bad is it?”

“Since I was twelve, in one form or another. It got worse as I got older, and this is the worst its ever been. I uh… I do cut and I think about suicide a lot. It’s passive though, I don’t have a plan or anything. I just… I’ve tried so many things. Therapy has never helped, my medication does fuck all, all my coping mechanisms stop being effective eventually. It just feels so helpless, like I’m never gonna get better, so why would I put my energy into trying? Every therapist I’ve had has told me that it’s basically managing my symptoms and keeping afloat at this point anyways and I don’t want to fucking- I don’t want to spend the rest of my life keeping afloat. It’s fucking miserable.”

“Have you ever talked to anyone besides a therapist?”

“No, I hate bothering people with this shit. I feel like I’m needy enough without it.”

“You’re not needy, and this doesn’t classify as bothering anyone. It’s using your support system. We’re your friends. We love you. We’re here for you, so let us be here for you.”

“You shouldn’t have to fucking babysit someone that you think is pathetic! You deserve better than putting up with my bullshit! Fuck, I should’ve never come here! This conversation is over until you can get it through your thick fucking skull-“

“Whoa, hey! Y/N, stop!” Seth grabbed your shoulders, stopping your attempt to walk away from him. “What the fuck are you talking about? I never said you were pathetic, and you aren’t. Is this just the depression talking or has someone actually made you feel like you’re pathetic for feeling like this because I swear to fucking god-“

“Do you actually love me? Do you enjoy being friends with me or are you just tolerating me because I work with Sam and Colby? Please just fucking be honest with me. I’d rather have my feelings hurt now than have you put up with me out of obligation. I know I’m not worth the attention or energy most of the time. I know I’m annoying and add nothing to investigations. I add nothing to anyone’s lives and I’m just sort of here, but I just need someone to fucking say it to my face because I’ll happily leave if it’ll make your lives easier.”

You were almost shaking now, hot tears spilling down both of your faces. The heartbroken look on his face sent a pain shooting through your chest. You had made him feel like this and you hated yourself all the more for it.

“I have never, ever felt that way about you. You have no idea the amount of times I turn to say something to you during investigations and get sad when you’re not there. You’re the first person I run to when I have something cool to say. I choose to use my attention and energy on you because I do love you. I wouldn’t crave your presence all the damn time if I didn’t love the fuck out of you. You are not pathetic. You are my favorite person on this god damn planet and I’d give my left leg if it meant you would stop hurting yourself.”

“…Seth?”

“Yeah?”

“You… can you promise me that nothing I do bothers you? I just feel like sometimes I ask for too much attention or I’m too touchy or something. The fans are gonna be all weird and shippy after this video comes out and if you’d rather they didn’t see that sort of thing it doesn’t have to go in the video. We can even stop all touches altogether if you’re uncomfortable with them thinking-“

“I’d rather get possessed than not be able to show you affection anymore. I don’t care what the fans think. They can mind their own damn business. We’ve always been touchy.”

“So… the fact that they’re gonna think we’re dating doesn’t bother you?” His hand drifted up from your shoulder to your cheek, somehow colder than the air around you. You leaned into the touch gratefully.

“Not the worst idea they could have. Actually I kinda don’t mind the thought of it. Our friends are always teasing us for being a married couple. I don’t see how us dating would be much different than things are now. We’re almost there, we just haven’t managed to kiss yet,” he laughed. You we’re hoping, with every fiber of your being, that his laugh was more nervous than joking. You gently placed your hands on his chest and pulled lightly at the edges of his flannel.

“We haven’t kissed because you’d probably regret it,” you mumbled. The buttons on his shirt suddenly became very interesting to you. 

“Why the fuck would I regret it?”

“I’m not exactly worth bragging about. Besides, now that you know that I’m all kinds of fu-“

His lips were warm on yours. The taste of tears lingered in the corners of your mouths. Your grip on his shirt tightened in a desperate attempt to pull him closer. You almost wanted to push him away for his own sake, but the hand that gripped your waist and pulled you flush against him erased that thought entirely. As soft and cautious as it started, the years of both of you wanting exactly this came rushing forth and pushed you both into desperation for one another. The kiss got deeper, fingers pressed harder and wandered further, any care for breathing went out the window. You were the first to pull away, dizzy and overwhelmed.

“There’s no shot in hell I’ll ever regret that,” Seth breathed, smile creeping across his lips as he looked at your breathless state. The butterflies in your stomach hit full force when his thumb brushed across your kiss bruised lips. 

“You just… would it be weird to admit I’ve wanted to do that for a while?” You laughed. He laughed with you, taking your hand in his. 

“So have I. You’re extra stuck with me now because I definitely want to do that a lot more.” He pressed his lips softly to your palm, right above your wrist. “And your issues aren’t gonna scare me away. We’re in this together whether you like it or not. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Tears welled in your eyes once again. The small gesture made your heart flutter, even more so when he kissed your wrist again, holding it longer this time. 

“It’s bad, Seth. It’s really bad and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Then I’ll make it my first official duty as your boyfriend to at least distract you from it, maybe with more kissing.” You laughed at that, pawing the tears from your eyes. He wiped at hem as well, catching the stray ones that you missed. You pulled him closer to you, hugging him as tight as your arms would allow. 

“You guys good out here?” Colby’s voice carried over from the front of the house. He and Sam were lugging bags of equipment, finally ready to leave the location. Seth turned towards them with his arms still firmly around you.

“Yea we’re chilin’. We fuckin’ kissed, bro!” He shouted. You laughed and buried your face in his chest, smacking him lightly.

“Fucking finally! Ready to head out then?”

“Totally, we’ll be right there!”

Two fingers pushed your chin up so your eyes met his. He placed a kiss on your forehead, and another quick one on your lips. You wanted it to continue but you knew you had a long drive ahead of you, so you took his hand and walked with him to the car.

“Before we head out, do you want to talk about the self-harm because I’m still worried,” Sam asked. He leaned against the driver’s side door, keys dangling from his hand. Seth spoke before you could figure out what to say.

“I think they’ll be okay. We’re gonna work on it together, right?”

“Yea… yea we are. Together.”

#Seth Borden x reader #tw suicide #suicide tw #tw self-harm #self harm tw #sam and Colby x reader #this was kinda self indulgent not even gonna lie #Seth Borden

[mentalhealth-selfshipping]

Your f/o isn't disgusted by your self-harm scars. Sure, they wish you never felt the need to do these things to yourself, but they're not going to resent that part of you. If you think they'd be revolted to touch or even look at you, you're sorely mistaken.

They also support you through whatever you may wish to do with your scarring, whether it be cover-up tattoos, scar removal treatment, or nothing at all. They want you to do whatever makes you feel the best.

#type: positivity #about: self harm #about: self image #imagine your f/o #f/o imagines #f/o imagine #self harm tw #tw self harm #tw selfharm #selfharm tw #tw self-harm #self-harm tw

[harusuki]

the legend of vox machina gifset per episode season 1 episode 9: the tide of bone

#critical role #the legend of vox machina #tlovm s1 #critroleedit #critteredit #tlovmedit #dailyanimatedgifs #cartoonedit #flashing gif #tw blood #tw hanging #tw self-harm #delilah briarwood #percy de rolo #keyleth of the air ashari #vax'ildan #pike trickfoot #archibald desnay #gpe: lovm

[willows-woes]

director says "cut!" and suddenly i take out a razor blade and roll up my sleeve

#i suddenly came up with this at 10pm #before bed #shitposts #dark humour #tw sh #tw self-harm #tw self mutilation #tw self destruction #sh jokes

[arithmonym]

the locked tomb fandom jokes about pyrrha drinking bleach as if it’s a quirky thing, but when i first read this scene, i was like, “oh, pyrrha definitely tried to kill herself. this was her downplaying it when it failed so she didn’t worry the others.”

given the context that she’s grieving her dead best friend (and habitually uses humor/deflection as a defense mechanism)… even if nona more or less accepts pyrrha’s excuse at face-value, i don’t think we should. even if it wasn’t a genuine suicide attempt, it was pretty serious self-harm.

#the locked tomb #tlt meta #pyrrha dve #tw suicide mention #tw self-harm #nona the ninth #ntn spoilers #m speaks

[annaraebananawriter]

Now what if I just took this ask right here and wrote a small little drabble for you all? Well, you’re answer doesn’t matter, because it’s already written. I do like it. And I hope you all do as well. Especially you, @dreemurr-skelememer.

5. Stone will never break (I’m never going to forgive myself)

When he first sees the statue, Dream believes he must be seeing things.

Because there’s no way other people were trapped like he was. No, that’s impossible. Nightmare would’ve gloated about the collection he’d made, would’ve rubbed in how it was all thanks to him that it was even possible. How it was his fault all those people were turned, forever frozen in time, eroding away slowly. His brother would’ve made sure he knew about the statues if they existed, and the simple fact that he didn’t means this sight in front of him did not exist.

At least, that’s what he keeps telling himself, gaze flicking over the person. The moss growing on their feet, the chipped rock on their chest and arms, the crack through their head. Chest feeling tight, he keeps looking, still trying to convince himself this isn’t real.

It’s all a bad dream. It is. 

Wake up now, please.

But nothing changed. The statue is still there and his chest is still tight. And Dream, choking down a sudden sob, stumbles forward, pressing his fingertips lightly against the surface of the person. His panic only increases when the pressure remains, telling him that yes, this was real.

Why would Nightmare never tell him this? Was he just waiting for him to find out first, to notice the shaken look to him and know without a doubt that he finally found his prized collection? No, his brother is cruel, but not that cruel. Surely he would give some kind of hint about this. Surely he would get impatient and find a way to make him find this place, lead him to the statue. And oh God, was it only the one? Or where there more? Was there a full garden full of these people, innocent souls caught up in something they shouldn't have?

Nightmare had to have given some kind of hint about this. He racks his memory to try and find it, abut the words keep getting jumbled. 

He can’t think right. 

Maybe Nightmare didn’t give him a hint. Maybe he just thought there was no hope of him finding them. Maybe he believed that Dream was a threat already taken care of, back when he was a statue himself, and he just tucked all the statues away to forget about them. 

And when he escaped, it still didn’t matter because he was so weak at first. He had a whole language to learn, weapons to learn how to fight with. He wasn’t a threat to be taken seriously, always spouting hope and begging his brother to come back home to him. That’s why the statues weren’t mentioned, they weren’t relevant anymore. Why bring up something that couldn’t be fixed? Why bring up something that could be used as blackmail?

Dream won’t have it. No. He can’t let this happen. 

These people need to be saved. He escaped once, surely he could help them do the same. He didn’t know how, but he would. He had to. It was already too late to save them for the first time. Hopefully it’s not too late to make it up to them. Hopefully they’ll give him a second chance to be better, be the guardian they need.

Blinking back the tears, he starts scratching at the statue, trying futilely to use his magic to break the stone. But he can’t latch on to any soul. There’s no emotion in this statue, no sign of life. Was it too late to do anything? Was his curse of being a step behind striking again?

Sobbing, he scratches more, harder. His fingertips start to burn, but the first bout of pain fades into a numb ache as nothing happens, blood staining the statue. But he doesn’t see that, no, his focus is elsewhere.

Flashes of a red sky and a fighting mob of villagers.

Flashes of a tree being cut down, apples tumbling and rotting in seconds.

Flashes of his brother screaming, white bones dusting to make room for tentacles and goop.

Flashes of a grin, a teal eyelight, and a golden glow as he finds himself thrust into a fight he did not want, hands shaking.

And then that dreadful moment that he can still feel phantom tingles from. The clash of positivity and negativity, and a creeping stone covering his legs as he stands there, horror growing, unable to step forward. Nightmare peers back at him, just as surprised, but that’s soon taken over by a gleeful laugh. He shakes, calling out to his brother, reaching a hand forward.

Nightmare only watches him, clutching his head as he continues to laugh.

Dream shakes even more, feeling like he can’t breath as the stone encases his chest, rising up to secure his throat and words, and then his sight, taking everything away. The last sound he hears is his brother’s laughter and the crying of the remaining villagers as they beg for mercy.

And then be blinks out the black spots, hands pulling his arms. Blinking again and Blue’s face fades into view, alarm and worry mixing together. His friend his holding his arms tightly, and when his fingers twitch, the grip tightens in response, close to bruising.

Dream realizes he’s speaking, cracking over sounds. “--se, please, please. Let me save them, it’s my fault, if only I was here sooner. Please, Blue, please, let me save them.”

And Blue is speaking too, speaking over him. “It’s okay, Dream, you’re safe. There’s not a person there. It’s just a statue, I promise. You did nothing wrong.”

Dream keens, finally breaking eye contact, trying to find the statue again. “No, no, no, you don’t understand. It’s my fault. I need to save them. I know what it’s like, their suffocating in there. I need to help them.” Inhaling, his vision gets blurry again. There’s a dull buzzing pain coming from his hands. “If I wasn’t turned in the first place, maybe I could save them. Maybe they wouldn’t be there. But I can still make it up to them, if I save them now. Please, Blue, please.”

But Blue follows him, blocking his view. “Dream, you’re hurting yourself. Please, stop. Listen to me. That’s not a living person, never has been. Someone made it, carved it. You’re fine. You’re safe. It’s okay.”

Breath hitching, Dream looks down, seeing the blood covering his hands. All his. And now it’s on Blue’s hands, too, because his friend is kind, too kind to be hid friend. He stares down at the blood, watching it drip onto the ground. There’s a faint ringing in his skull still.

Blue is still talking. “It’s okay. I promise. You did nothing wrong.”

Dream trembles.

The argument gets lodged in his throat, the pain he’s caused his friend creating the block. Blue means well, he does, and he hates to see him so worried like this, worried over him of all people, but he doesn’t understand.

It is his fault.

Even if this statue wasn’t a person, it could’ve been. And that means everything he was already thing is true. Because if he wasn’t stuck in stone, if he wasn’t foolish enough and let that happen, he could’ve saved so many people. He wouldn’t be here, wounds on his fingers from trying to save someone that never existed.

The statue could’ve been someone, you see. It could’ve.

And that thought might be worse.

#my writing #fanfic #drabble #utmv #undertale #dreamtale #dream sans #blue sans #swap sans #underswap sans #mentioned nightmare sans #tw self-harm #tw panic attack #hope you enjoy!

[notallsandmen]

24? Rancid discourse?

I feel like things can get quite heated on the topic of Daniel-Dream. Mainly because there are a lot of things inherent in the canonical ending that can be interpreted as having upsetting connotations in terms of mental illness, self-harm, suicide, ageism etc.

I don’t mean to yuck anyone’s yum — I personally won’t read fics that ship Daniel-Dream with Hob or anyone, but I know it can (and has) been done beautifully.

I think we’ve been spared the rancid ship wars so far, so let’s just tag appropriately and keep it that way!

We all cope with canonical MCD differently, and my strategy is pure denial and retconning via retired!Dream 😂

#tw suicide #tw self-harm #daniel hall #dream of the endless / daniel #daniel/hob #dreamling #sandman spoilers #the sandman spoilers #sandman comics spoilers

[icedmetaltea]

Imposter

#venting and imposters huh?? sus #irl stuff #vent #tw self-harm #tw depression #tw anxiety #Metaltea draws #Metaltea doodles #Couldn't get this idea out of my head last night so here we are #mental health