#It's almost as if it's lacking a true sense of identity. Which is hard when you're a sequel but certainly possible

[fire-plays-totk]

Not sure if it's just something I dislike from a storytelling perspective or if it's just something I find deeply tragic about TOTK, but isn't it fucked how the same misfortunes tend to follow Link and Zelda? TOTK Link is gravely injured and gets stuck in a stasis to heal him before he wakes up weakened and confused, with the weight of the world on his shoulders again. TOTK Zelda is stuck trying to figure out some way to help and ultimately comes to the conclusion she must sacrifice herself. Like we've done this before??

Except in BOTW everything feels like a direct consequence of the reincarnation cycle. How Link was forced into knighthood as a child and how Zelda is expected to harness her sealing power only because of her bloodline. Hell, even how Ganon has warped into this terrifying force of nature and lost any shred of humanity. Everything is a result of thousands of years of the same song and dance over the triforce and it directly impacts these three characters arguably much more than their predecessors. So I guess it's a little lame that TOTK's reason for all the same things happening again is kinda just "Shit sucks I guess. Boom. Time travel."

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Decoy [S. R.]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 6.9k

summary: when you go after an unsub who catches students making out, the unit is called upon to resort to desperate measures. Or in other words, where you and Spencer become the decoy to catch a voyeur.

warnings: +16. Making out, mentions of alcohol, mentions of violence, insinuation of smut, sexual tension

Do yourself a favor and imagine Spencer in these clothes during the case

You sighed, completely frustrated, while you looked for the thousandth time at the blackboard with some information from the profile that you had made for the criminal in this case.

You believed that the unsub was a Caucasian man between 30 and 35 years old, whose motive was to spy on and photograph university students who were escaping in their cars to make out at night, then force them to have sex in front of him and finally kill them cold-blooded. You imagined that he was a person with a mediocre job, that he felt insufficient, and that his voyeuristic behavior probably came from sexual frustration, something that could be corroborated by the violence that he inflicted on the genital area of the students whom he stalked using a knife, his mark on all homicides. You also believed that perhaps the rejection or abandonment of his last partner (preceded by a bad streak from his youth) due to his impotence had been the triggering event for all his repressed impulses to come to light.

All the psychological analysis was fine, it wasn't something you hadn't seen before, but the hard part of all this? Because he only threatened and killed people, he didn't rape them, at first it was almost impossible to tell who it was. He already had 20 victims in total and you weren't even close to catching him. In the last scene he had made the mistake of leaving a fingerprint and Garcia had been able to trace his true identity: Oliver Davis, a guy who fits the description perfectly. Unfortunately, this turned out to be useless because beyond the accusations of being a pervert, the man didn’t have much information that would give a clue to his whereabouts, you had even called the job that he had registered and all you had obtained was that he had several months without working there, which coincided with the beginning of the murders. After that Rossi suggested that he probably lived in a trailer (old, due to his lack of employment) where he developed the photographs and kept his trophies. That only made more sense when you thought that it would make it easier to transport or escape in case things got messy.

But words on paper and intelligent conclusions were of absolutely no use to you. You needed a plan to catch him.

"Do you have something, Reid?" Hotch had asked. You had already interviewed some students, you had set up guard duty to look for any suspicious behavior and you had even shared the photograph of the suspect in the media, but nothing had worked; The only thing left was to carry out the geographical profile to know the area in which he was attacking and thus be able to search for possible targets.

“I triangulated the locations we have of his previous homicides and I'm guessing he hits in this specific area,” he muttered, pointing to a space on the map he had on his blackboard with his middle finger. “Considering it's an area frequented by the age group due to its proximity to the universities and that it has several parks that the students told us they use to drink or go out as a couple”

"So what?" Morgan said from his spot. "We just wait until he kills someone else and hopefully we're near the scene to hear the screams?"

“Maybe we can ask the cops to patrol the area for the unsub's car,” JJ suggested.

“He's smart, there's a trailer park right here. It wouldn't be strange to find one on the streets as well.” Reid was visibly frustrated like everyone else and he ran a hand through his hair with some despair.

Your options were running out and frankly you couldn't think of anything else.

“And if we give him a target?” Emily murmured. Noticing that none of you said anything, she went on to explain her plan, “We ask police officers to send any young people they see around to home so we force our unsub to get close to who we want”

"And what are we going to do? Hire a couple of college kids to stalk them?”

“We can use our own team”

"Not to offend you, Prentiss, but we are no longer in the prime of youth"

"We don't, but Y/L/N and Reid do" when you heard your last name you were surprised, but when you heard your friend's you practically froze. First you looked at her and then at the doctor, whose gaze reflected the same stupefaction as you "You two are young, you might look like students"

"Are you saying you want to send us straight into the hands of a sexual predator?" you couldn't be offended, after all, those risks were part of the job, but you did feel somewhat reluctant about the idea.

“Do you have a better suggestion?”

“It doesn't sound so bad” Rossi murmured “It's a smart move”

“Besides, we would be watching around and we would intervene before that madman got close to you. Once we catch him, the photographs and personal items that he probably has in his trailer will be enough evidence, in addition to the fingerprint from the last crime scene” to your surprise, Derek was also pretty convinced of the plan that Emily had just devised.

"Reid, Y/L/N, would you guys be up for it?" Hotch exclaimed with his usual serious tone, looking at you and then at your partner.

Thinking objectively, the suggestion was very good. But thinking about it personally, you felt worried about the danger you two would be running into… oh, God. It wasn't until then that you realized that the plan to catch the suspect involved the two of you making out like a couple of hormonal college kids. 

You knew that the options that remained wouldn’t be as opportune as that and taking into account the temporary nature with which Oliver operated, in addition to the fact that he was already deteriorating as a murderer, it was most likely that he was already looking for new victims, so if you did that same night the chances of success were quite high. You were between a rock and a hard place and all you could do was look at him while the gazes of the rest of the room were divided between the two of you.

“I… I'll only do it if you say yes” you exclaimed in his direction, with a cautious voice and a fearful look. You knew your friend and you didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable in any way, even though you knew that both you and he knew that your personal interests would take precedence against the possibility that another couple of victims would lose their lives if you refused. It was your job, you had to do it. 

"Are you sure you guys are going to catch him before something happens?" Spencer asked your boss. You thought that with his background the last thing he wanted was to end up kidnapped or seriously injured again, even though the truth was that he was caring just as much about himself as he was about you. He had seen the photographs and knew that women were the most affected by the murder weapon… he didn't even want to imagine something like this happening to you.

"Of course. You will have communication with us and if something goes wrong we will get you out of there immediately" Aaron answered and your friend sighed nervously and then looked for your approval. You nodded slightly and he delivered the verdict, to which everyone agreed.

He was still standing, but after that he slumped into the nearest chair as he listened to everyone brainstorming ideas for setting up the scene, distributing the crew, and what they would tell the local police to do to make the decoy effective.

At some point you lost the whole point of the conversation, to start thinking about what was implied by what you were about to do.

The feeling of attraction for your co-worker had been latent in you for a couple of years, but you had never confessed it to anyone to avoid creating tension in the team or suffering the humiliation of certain rejection. Also, you knew that a crush meant distractions from what was truly important and you had tried, in vain, to eliminate it completely. But even if it hadn't completely gone, you had known how to control it, only allowing yourself to look at him with loving eyes from time to time and avoiding being too confident with him during group drinking outings. You even limited physical contact, not because you didn't like it but because you knew your greed would demand more and more of you until it became inevitable to beg for his touch. But now all that good work holding you back was screwed because in a few hours you would have to be passionately making out with him.

Still with the internal crisis, you raised your head to look at him and realized that he too had been submerged in his own tide of thoughts, which you hoped would be more positive than yours. At some point Spencer felt you watching him and when his eyes met yours he gave you that tight-lipped smile that was strangely comforting, to which you responded with the same gesture. After that it didn't take long for everyone to leave the room to fulfill their respective tasks, but you stayed seated because you honestly didn't feel enough energy to move. Besides, you had nothing entrusted to you, you were the bait.

"Hey, are you sure you're okay with this?" Spencer asked you, once everyone else had left. He looked so tired of everything, but at the same time there was a kind tone in his voice about him that made you smile.

“It's just kissing, Spence. I think we'll be fine" you assured him, trying to swallow all your embarrassment and nerves "And you?"

"I agree. I just hope we get lucky today or we'll just have to keep trying” 

"Reid, I need you to tell the cops what area we'll be in," Hotch interrupted you from the door. "You still have time to regret it," he added, looking at the two of you.

You immediately denied and after that Spencer withdrew from there in the company of Aaron. When you were about to drop you exhaled, completely concerned about the last thing your partner had said.

We will just have to keep trying. You didn't know if the idea excited you, or terrified you.

As night fell, Spencer drove the old pickup truck the unit had managed to rent for the two of you to drive into the park, with you in the passenger seat and a six-pack of beer in the backseat.

Although you were sure that it would be cold, you had decided to wear shorts and a button-down shirt that you normally wore for work, but that you had adjusted to make it look more youthful. Spencer was wearing an outfit that Morgan had gotten for him from a department store, simple jeans with a rather baggy cotton shirt and some nice boots that you didn't know where he got from, since in Quantico you had never seen him wear anything like that.

Both of you had showered at the hotel (separately of course) and you had made sure to brush your teeth and put on a good amount of deodorant and perfume before getting in the car. You had paid special attention to your appearance, not because it was necessary, but because you wanted to look perfect for him. Even with all this, you were a nervous wreck next to him, not saying a word along the way and only soft music from the radio filling the air.

When you stopped, the two of you put your headphones on to the channel the team was supposed to be on, and Morgan answered in the affirmative.

"Remember, he doesn't have to see the communicator or your weapon," Rossi spoke, who was also in the van, along with Prentiss and Hotch. "García will be watching with the security cameras and he will warn us if the trailer is coming"

"And meanwhile what do we do?"

"Pretend to be a couple, sit on the tailgate and drink beer, laugh, I don't know"

“Did you ever run away like that in college?” you asked, directly at Reid.

“Do you remember that I was like 16 when I studied at the university, right? I wasn't even old enough to drive, much less a car" he muttered and you gave a short laugh "I guess you did"

“I was too busy being the best in the institution to even think about going out and making out with idiots,” you replied, proud of yourself for that. “I mean, it's not like you're an idiot, but they were. You're very smart," you rambled, still twiddling your fingers, "Hotch, you guys will tell us when we're going to start kissing, will you?"

“When the suspect approaches, yes”

"Okay, well... then we have to go out, huh?" you muttered to him as you reached for the beers and tried to open the door to get out. You turned, expecting to see Spencer do the same as you, but noticed that he had lingered in the car for a moment, checking himself in the mirror and applying his lips with chapstick.

My God, could that man make you more nervous?

When he finally caught up with you, you went to the back of the pickup, where you opened the tailgate to sit down with a little hop. Spencer was tall enough to keep up with you just by leaning over the edge, where you watched him cross his arms. You were silent for a few moments, listening to the sound of crickets and cars in the distance.

"Do you think it's a good idea to drink?"

"Only a little. I'm having a hard time thinking while sober, I don't want to ruin the little reasoning I have left” you exclaimed as a joke. Or maybe you weren't joking so much "Just empty a couple of cans and leave them on the floor so he'll think we're really drunk." Spencer was about to do what you said when you noticed an important detail and called him over to look at you "Come here, let me fix your hair."

"What's wrong with my hair?"

"You're very well combed, it's not the image we expect" you carefully took his hand until it was close enough to pass the other through all his golden locks, messing them up enough to give him that relaxed touch that he should have. He looked so handsome, but not in the style of a fancy FBI agent but just like a young intellectual who went to parties and smoked weed “Like this. Perfect"

“Do you think we have to think of some backstory?” he asked and you looked at him with a frown. “You know, something about us. What degree are we studying, what are our names…”

"This is not a play"

"It's rude to eavesdrop on conversations, Prentiss," you said visibly annoyed, although looking at your partner that expression softened "As you wish, Spencer. Although being honest, I would say that you study… literature”

"Really?" he exclaimed with slight enthusiasm. You knew that his mother had been a teacher in the subject and you wondered if he had ever considered it.

“Morgan wasn’t wrong to choose those clothes for you. It suits you” you complimented him and Morgan whistled from the other end of the line. You felt like you were having too much fun for the situation you were in, but you needed to talk about something else to put off the reminder of what you had come to do for as long as possible. “I think you would have that hopeless philosopher/romantic vibe who flirts by whispering memorized poetry in your ear.”

“I actually know some good ones”

"Sure you do" you smiled gently, suppressing the thought of him sighing close to your neck at Bécquer "I'd probably study science or something."

"The unattainable scientist with whom the captain of the soccer team has a secret crush, but she is completely unaware"

"Where did you get that? From a 90s movie?

Spencer's laugh was one of your favorite sounds and today that was precisely not helping your situation. You felt intoxicated by how handsome he looked, like you'd discovered a side to him that no one else had, and the thought of kissing him made you tremble a little with anticipation.

“Do you want to share a beer?” he murmured, carefully opening the can and offering it to you first. You knew your partner wasn't the most enthusiastic about doing anything that involved germs, so it made you feel good that he took the lead. You took a big gulp of the drink to gather something of value and when it was his turn to drink he kept looking at you intently, you would even say that he seemed entranced.

You had made sure you were in a strategic position, with enough light for the unsub to see you and quite lonely, except for the patrol cars and the van that had been positioned at a safe distance.

“How does voyeurism develop?” you asked quietly, with genuine interest, as you shifted a bit to get closer to him.

“Voyeurism usually begins in adolescence and since during that age it is usually seen with greater tolerance, there are people who continue with these behaviors until adulthood. When voyeurism is pathological, they spend considerable time looking for opportunities to watch, often at the expense of not fulfilling important responsibilities in their lives, and people reach orgasm by masturbating during or after watching. Although if you think about it a bit, everyone is a bit of a voyeur."

"Why you said so?"

“Many men and women enjoy viewing pornography, which can be classified as voyeuristic behavior. It's not a worrying thing, but it's interesting to think about it” he explained, with those expressions on his face that he had every time he shared knowledge with you. He liked that about you, that you were always willing to listen to his data and statistics even at the most inopportune moments.

"I'm still a little scared that Oliver is trying to do something to us."

“I have my gun. If he tries to do something to you, I'll use it" you knew that killing the unsub was always the last option Reid considered, so you widened your eyes a little to show your surprise "All lives are worth, but when that life has already taken so many and it puts you at risk, I would not doubt it. You have nothing to worry about” he assured you and your heart warmed a little at feeling so protected.

"Do you know if Oliver attacks at a specific time?"

"No, he doesn’t. Just as we can be here for ten minutes, we can also be here all night."

You exhaled loudly, before taking another gulp of beer.

“Drink some, boy. I feel kind of selfish around here."

"I am nervous"

"And why do you think I'm drinking?" you exclaimed wryly, still holding out the can to him, and when he finally agreed he drank a little more than you expected “Have you ever…” you started to say, but suddenly remembered that literally the whole team was listening to you. If the answer was embarrassing, you didn't want to hear Morgan and Emily taunting you all week, so you covered your microphone for a moment and spoke again, but so quietly that only he could hear you. "I suppose you kissed someone, did you?"

"Yes," he said quickly and you sighed with relief. It comforted you a little to know that it wasn't his first kiss, because you didn't want him to have such a bad memory “Do I look so inexperienced?"

"No, that's not what I meant" you smiled "You're handsome, I know you've probably kissed a couple of girls"

"You don't need to tell lies, you know I'll kiss you anyway"

"But it's not a lie. I really think you're handsome" you confessed, gathering all the courage in you, while you smiled at him in the most serene way possible "And if we weren't literally waiting for a murderer, you know I'd be happy to do this with you"

"Smooch me?"

"Having this bad date attempt, Reid," you hissed, flushing red, as you slammed your palm into his forehead with just a little bit of force. Spencer seemed quite pleased that he made you nervous, rather than the other way around, so he grinned, “Though I think we should have brought food. I'm starving,” you pouted, swinging your dangling legs back and forth.

"That's not a picnic, Y/N"

You hated for a second that everyone was so intent on the conversation. A part of you wanted a moment alone with the brunette, even if it was in the midst of such a strange situation.

You began to talk pleasantly about things completely unrelated to the case for a couple of minutes, staying where you were, until Hotch's interruption made you jump a bit in place.

"Garcia intercepted an approaching trailer, get ready” your heart immediately sped up and you noticed him tense beside you, too, probably with the same thought flooding his head.

"Okay, come closer," you exclaimed, trying not to panic, as you spread your legs a little to allow the man to step into the space between. He wasted no time and just as you wrapped your hands around his shoulders you heard the sound of another car pulling up.

"Is that our unsub?"

"It is"

You were about to turn your head to peek when Reid grabbed your cheek and stopped you.

"He's smart. If you look at him, he'll realize it” he reminded you with a serious voice. You were so worried about everything that you were forgetting about your training “Okay, so I… Is it okay if I put my hands here?” he asked with a different tone, nervously placing both hands on your waist. You had always admired the size and anatomy of those hands, but until now you had not had the pleasure of feeling them on your body in this way.

“Tonight everything you do is fine. I promise"

"It would be a good time to start, he'll see you" Emily reminded you and you could only sigh shakily.

You two were adults, why were you so scared about kissing?

"Close your eyes" Spencer whispered to you, masking his nerves better than you "I'll kiss you, just close them," he asked you and you did.

You felt his body lean against you a little until his chest almost touched yours and then his lips shakily pressed against yours. You would always remember your first kiss, which in essence was such a brief caress that you didn't even know if it could be counted as one, the one where he wordlessly asked your permission to explore your mouth. Still with your eyes closed, you pulled him by the neck towards you and started a new kiss, a little more confident and deep this time, allowing you to savor the beer mixed with strawberries and that strange flavor that each person has.

“We…” you started to say, once you separated “you have to do it slowly, what he wants is a show” you exclaimed. Spencer felt unable to say any words and your hands caressing him so deliciously wasn't helping at all “Slow,” you repeated.

You arched your back a little to get even closer and when you finally looked up you met his caramel eyes. You needed a moment to recover and you unconsciously licked your lips, as if you needed to pick up and savor his presence in your mouth again, something that didn’t go unnoticed by his attentive look at your movements. 

It didn't take long for you to give up, as beginning the third kiss you felt that you no longer had any control over your body, your heart, or your mind. And while it was true that neither of you were experts on the subject, you guys managed pretty well as the seconds ticked by. Spencer gasped as he simultaneously felt you pull the hair from his neck and caress his lips with the tip of your tongue, while you were taken by surprise when his hands left your waist and lowered to the height of your hip, where his thumbs gripped firmly on the clip of your shorts.

There was a kiss, then another and another; they became too many to count. You didn't want to touch him anywhere and at the same time you wanted to touch him completely, in the grip of the fantasy that this was real and not just a performance. And even if you were aware that it was all fake, that would probably only have encouraged you to enjoy something to the fullest that you knew would never come back. Amid everything you didn’t know which of the two situations would be worse.

The sound of your lips colliding became so obscene that you were embarrassed, but you had no plan to stop. Your hands slid gently down the length of his neck until you reached his chest and cupped the soft cotton of his garment in your fists to make sure he didn't move away from you. The heat of the moment just went up and up, but a voice on the intercom brought you back with a jolt.

“He started the trailer. He's going to go"

Spencer closed his eyes in frustration, and you sighed. From the position he was in it wasn’t possible to get around him without being seen, so keeping all his attention was on you and him.

Maybe you weren't doing it right? You wondered what the hell this man wanted to see if you were practically eating each other, but suddenly you remembered that his motivation was even more sexual than a couple of wet kisses. Maybe he was getting bored because he needed to see that you were about to… well, do it.

"Take off my shirt," you said immediately, still too close to his swollen lips and looking right into eyes that seemed to be pitch black.

"Take... what?"

"Take off my shirt" you repeated, with a tone that made the man shudder completely. With the hands that were still holding his shirt you pulled him to you and he held his breath “And kiss me better. Like you really want me"

But Spencer didn't need to pretend that he wanted you. 

He made you completely dizzy when he began to kiss you so hungrily and you managed to keep enough composure when you felt one of his warm hands travel under your blouse, limiting yourself to letting out sighs that were drowned against his lips. But what finally caused you to let out an indiscreet and unwelcome moan was when he pulled you by the hip until you were on the edge of the tailgate and you could feel the growing bulge in his pants pressing against you. Spencer had almost managed to suppress his, but in the end, you having your own situation down there didn't help one bit. 

His trembling fingers fussed with the buttons on your shirt until it ended up somewhere on the floor at incredible speed, leaving you half-naked before him and the collection of FBI agents standing around. You might have been embarrassed if your brain could connect two coherent thoughts, but you'd lost that from the moment Dr. Reid first dared to kiss you.

You carefully guided his hands to the beginning of the curve of your breasts and now you both sighed in unison, feeling goosebumps on every inch of your skin. You pushed yourself forward just for the satisfaction of hearing that guttural sound again and your prayers were immediately answered, for it was enough for him to feel the slightest friction and he would go crazy. It was inappropriate to need him like that, but you couldn't help it.

Holding your lower back, he leaned over you and at the same time pulled you towards him until your breasts collided with his chest. In that position, your neck was exposed and your partner’s hot lips didn't hesitate to go down there, while you sighed agitated just at the height of his ear. Spencer asked you, between each kiss, to look in the direction of the trailer to see if he was still there and as you could you answered yes, which was victory enough for both of you.

As he could, he maneuvered to lay you down carefully on the cold metal of the truck without stopping kissing your neck, and by inertia you wrapped both legs over his hip. When you were hidden by the panels of the pickup he finally looked at you.

"I hope it's enough to get his attention," he said, sounding as agitated as expected, and although the circumstances meant that you two would be taking a break you flatly refused, pulling him back to kiss him.

That kiss did take Spencer by surprise and it was perhaps the sincerest of the night. It wasn’t as passionate as the previous ones, but rather it was loaded with softness and you would even say that a hint of supplication. You were begging for him not to stop, for the night to get stuck in an infinite loop where the two of you could kiss for eternity. And suddenly you felt how he, who had been so tense the whole time, completely relaxed against you, as if he understood exactly what you wanted to say. His hands came to rest on the sides of your head to be able to kiss you more comfortably and you dared to take him by the waist with the same care that you were kissing him, feeling even above the cloth the softness of his skin. 

And then he broke up with you. You feared you had done something wrong due to the suddenness of the movement and your frightened eyes searched his gaze for a sign of the reason, without finding anything. He just looked at you with something you couldn't describe, but that made you feel butterflies fluttering all over your stomach... and he stayed like that for a few seconds: just looking at you, as if he wanted to memorize all your features.

You opened your mouth to say something, but your words were drowned in a new kiss, totally different from the previous ones. Spencer was taking time with him, trapping your lower lip between his and sucking on it gently, pressing himself a little more against your body, sighing heavily into your mouth.

Your hand was already running up his side to make its way to his cheek just as screams filled the silence and you hugged him reflexively. The screams had come from Morgan, who had already moved across the park to take down the unsub and was now wrestling with him to get the knife out of his hand. Spencer hesitated for a moment if he should come over to help, but he preferred to hold you better against his body to protect you and wait for Emily to place the handcuffs on the man under her partner's knee.

From a distance you saw that he only brought with him, in addition to the knife, his camera, and a small backpack with some other murderous instruments that they managed to confiscate without any problem.

"All clear, we've got him," Hotch spoke over the radio. As you exhaled in relief too many emotions washed over you, combined with the adrenaline coursing through your body and the arousal still flowing into your crotch.

"Are you okay?" Reid's gentle voice called to you, as he pulled away to check with his eyes that everything was in order. His hair was messy and his lips were so swollen that it was almost painful to look at the image without launching yourself to kiss him again "My God, your shirt..." he said, completely embarrassed, as he bent down to pick up the garment. You looked him up and down and blushed when you noticed how tight his pants were, feeling your stomach turn a little. When he got up, he took the opportunity to look at your chest covered only by the black lace bra and a big gulp of saliva went down his throat.

You thanked him quietly and put your shirt back on, feeling the sneaky glances Spencer was giving you, just before Hotch walked up to you.

"How are you?"

"Very good, excellent" you stammered.

You could perfectly feel your swollen lips, the light sheen of sweat on your face, the heat flowing from all the places Reid's fingers had been, and the abundant moisture between your crossed legs.

After Hotch congratulated you on your performance, the two of you walked as best you could toward the rest of the agents, who were already placing Oliver on patrol. Another group was analyzing the trailer and they managed to pull out enough evidence about the murders that would be very useful in prosecuting the man.

"All good?" Emily asked in your direction, once things had settled down and the rest of the team had gathered in a circle by the van. You and Spencer just nodded at the question.

“I honestly think I'm going to need therapy after what I heard,” Dave murmured, so serious that you couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"Don't you even dare make fun of this"

“No, we won't. I'm just saying you guys seemed to be enjoying it there."

"That's supposed to be the plan, right?" Spencer said nervously, finally daring to look at you and looking away almost immediately as he smoothed his hair back.

Once your boss said you could retire you escaped in a patrol car as fast as you could, wanting to get home so you could take a cold shower and soothe what wasn’t satisfied by the man. You could hardly sleep that night, still haunted by the ghost of the kisses you received from your gorgeous coworker, and the next morning you hoped that double coffee would do the trick. But apparently you weren't the only one who thought so, because at the same time that you arrived Spencer Reid crossed your path.

"Hey," he said, in that high-pitched voice that came out when someone caught him off guard, "How are you?" 

"Fine, and you?"

"Fine too"

You knew that the two of you wanted to talk about what happened, but it only took one of you to have the courage to speak first. At the same time your phones rang indicating a message and you mistakenly assumed that it was JJ contacting you to announce a case. What was your surprise when you opened the file and found a collection of photos from the night before. You knew from Spencer's face that he had received the same thing.

"Garcia did you… did she send you the same evidence?"

"That's right," he said nervously. You had to admit that if Oliver had one quality it was that of a photographer: you were sensual and perfectly captured the desire that had existed between you. Well, the one you had pretended to feel… right?

Spencer held his breath as he came to a picture of you topless in which his hand was practically on your breast, immediately remembering how that had felt. He just hoped his memories didn't affect him too much or it would be embarrassing enough to walk into the boardroom with a boner.

"They're good," you said to the air and he suppressed a laugh "But I can delete them if that makes you feel uncomfortable"

“No, no, I… I think I want to keep them too. After all, the bureau will have them in the files as evidence of the case, I prefer to have access too”

"I just hope she doesn't send them to anyone else, I wouldn't want to see my bra photos going around."

“I'll tell Garcia, don't worry,” Spencer murmured, rushing to type something on his phone.

While you waited for him to type you took another look, feeling your whole body heating up again at the memories. A part of you was grateful to have such material in your custody.

"I never thought of being the protagonist of an erotic photo session and here we are," you said ironically.

“Speaking of which…” Spencer started to say, “Not the erotic sessions by any means, don't think I'm planning on inviting you to one or that, because it would be super weird and inappropriate, but I was thinking if… huh…”

“Sell them online? I thought so too, but it depends on how much profit there is. Garcia can help us find the highest bidder and not get charged for tampering with evidence."

"What? No!" he said, completely shocked, and you laughed because you got the reaction you expected with your joke "Why would we do that?"

“Just kidding, Reid. Those photos are something I prefer to keep to myself" you clarified and your smile made him feel shy "Seriously, sorry for interrupting you. What did you want to tell me?"

"What…? huh, yes, right. It's just that this morning I was thinking about what you said yesterday, about how under normal circumstances you would have liked to have a bad date with me, right? and it just kept spinning in my head, so I was asking if you wanted to go for a drink sometime. Not like a date, of course, I'm not saying it is if you don't want to. I can just be like… well, go get a drink. As friends"

Yesterday Spencer had practically eaten your mouth and now he was nervous about asking you out. So adorable.

“You're not doing this just as compensation, are you? because you know that it is not necessary…”

“I do it because I want to. And I want to believe that… that I didn't misunderstand what happened yesterday."

You no longer even cared that it was unethical to date team members, or that if things went wrong, you would probably go into the worst of depressions. What mattered to you was that Spencer was interested in you, even if he had implied it, and that he was asking you out alone with him. Just the two of you, with fun and alcohol involved, without gossipy colleagues or mortal danger.

"Then I'd love to, Reid."

“Wow, excellent then” he smiled, feeling lucky that you agreed “I know a great bar near here, the atmosphere is generally calm, I like it because they don't play loud music. What day is right for you?"

“I'm available any day you want” you responded genuinely, grinning from ear to ear just being around him. That was the effect Reid had on you.

It was stupid to try to deny that you were still attracted to him, especially since now you had a taste of what he could do with you. You wanted to kiss him again, of course, but you were also anxious to earn that completely adoring look you'd received the night before.

“Today?”

"Yeah, why wait?" you responded, more excited than you wanted.

“Hey, I didn't ask you, but I wanted to know if I didn't go overboard with you last night. I mean… did something bother you?”

It was a smart move, you could see it clearly. It was obvious that Spencer cared about you, but you also picked up on his intentions to find out if you were interested in him too. Well, that's how it was from your perspective, because that probably would have been your motivation being in his place.

Even if it wasn't the case, you weren't going to miss the opportunity to take a little advantage of the situation.

"The kisses on the neck were something he definitely didn't expect, but they weren't unpleasant at all," you assured him, feeling your cheeks heat up again. "Did it feel good to you?"

"It did"

"So everything's perfect," you murmured, shrugging off the matter. But you both knew you couldn't see each other in the office and acted as if nothing had happened.

Something had happened. Those kisses had only fueled the tension that had always existed between you but that you wanted to ignore.

"Do you want to go after work, then?"

“Sounds good to me”

Spencer gave you one last smile and then went to prepare his usual cup of sugar with a dash of coffee. All day you were thinking about him and more than once he caught you looking at him, but you didn't even care.

So, at nightfall, with a few drinks on you and more courage in your body, you finally confessed that kissing was something you had wanted to do for a long time. You almost didn't believe it at first, coming from him, but when you finally accepted it, it wasn't hard at all to rush at him and kiss him feverishly. And this time there did not impede for you to give free rein to your desires, which led you to the soft mattress in your friend's house and kept you awake until a few hours before dawn.

[youremyheaven]

Rahu & Ketu: The Mystery of Being

TW: abuse, rape, murder, abduction, childhood trauma, violence

The more I study Nodal energy, the more I realise how truly hard it is to remain within its influence, it escapes your grip or eludes you so easily and I think even Nodal natives feel this way, its really hard to have a stable/consistent self image or strong identity because with Rahu you are sooo many different things and your energy is dispersed completely (Rahu being the "head") and with Ketu, you're in the dark completely so you feel unable to identify with anything permanently i.e you outgrow things quickly (Ketu being the "body"). Both Rahu & Ketu are malefics and generally considered to be inauspicious but please don't be discouraged!!

The reason why they're considered inauspicious is because Rahu creates excessive immersion in the material realm as these natives are always looking out of themselves/seeking external things to centre themselves around. Since they're stuck in the head (literally) they're unable to be grounded or tethered. This causes overindulgence and gluttony. They might seem greedy on the outside but truly this is driven by their boundary-less nature where they literally do not know when to stop, nothing feels "enough" for them, they never feel "full". Since they're so vastly spacious internally, they can accommodate a lot, this makes them very tolerant and accepting of virtually every one and every kind of experience. But this internal spaciousness also means that they feel empty, just because its hard to "fill up" all that space and feel "fulfilled". This causes them to overexert themselves and go above & beyond. They do this just because they can. This is why they're such obsessive lovers. They have so much space, so much to hold, they need a great deal of stimulation just to feel normal. In social settings they may come across as very hyper, very loud, very extra, always doing the most, eager to please everyone (its similar but different to Jupiter energy). This over-attachment to the physical or sensorial realm means that its hard for them to transcend beyond it to attain true spiritual liberation. They can never fully let go because its very scary to be cut off that way. Its like floating in space, nothing to hold on to, no gravity, nothing to fall on, you can't stay still, its all very disorienting.

The reason Ketu is considered inauspicious is because it causes extreme detachment from everything. These natives don't have a strong sense of self, they feel themselves dissolve almost and they're always wandering in search of something to connect to. This complete lack of attachment to anything material or concrete means that these natives lack grounding. In order to care about something you have to be firmly rooted in reality and Ketuvians struggle with this because they're never fully here. They may intellectually understand or support social causes but its a torso without a head, which means they dont have the energy to be committed to sustaining interest in anything. They're the type of people who go through a lot of different "phases". One can only transcend if one is connected to life in the first place, these natives aren't. It DOES make spiritual understanding easier and Ketu is considered one of the most spiritual planets but it is difficult to be rooted or grounded in this or be disciplined about it because like I said Ketu is detached. They inherently understand certain spiritual truths but its very rare (unless other positive placements are present) for these natives to fully immerse themselves in spiritual pursuits.

(table by me😎hehe)

Its very interesting to me that none of the Nodal naks have the purushartha ("motivation") of Moksha (liberation). All 6 naks are evenly split between Artha, Kama & Dharma.

This again points to how even though Nodal influence helps one grasp spiritual concepts better and naturally embody certain spiritual truths, these natives are not motivated by it.

But often what happens is that these natives are unable to enjoy or benefit from their successes. Their lives are full of ups and downs. The shadowy nature of the planets and the fact that the lack of physical existence of these planets creates a very "boundary less" energy that makes them susceptible to every kind of influence, good and bad.

Pierce Brosnan- Ardra Moon

Pierce Brosnan’s hardships pretty much started at the very beginning. Born into a poor family in rural Ireland, he was swiftly abandoned by his father, who he would only go on to meet once. His mother was forced to send him to live with his grandparents while she worked as a nurse in England, then his aunt and uncle, and then onto a boarding house. His mother visited twice a year until he could move to England at age 11, at which point he became the focus of school bullies.

In 1980, Brosnan married Cassandra Harris and adopted the 3 children of her late-husband, adding one more to the mix for good measure. But in 1991, Cassandra died in his arms after a 4 year battle with ovarian cancer, which would later go on to take the life of their 41 year old daughter Charlotte in 2013. By then, he had become estranged from his son Chris, who had a major drug problem resulting in fights, thefts, and 2 drunk-driving crashes in 2 years. The crashes may have been the straw that broke the camel’s back, as Brosnan had already narrowly avoided losing his son Sean at 13, after Sean’s cousin drunkenly drove off a 200-foot cliff. In 2015, the $18-million Malibu home he lived in caught fire and sustained $1 million in damages.

Kelsey Grammar, Shatabhisha Sun, Mars in Ashwini, Ketu in Ardra

Kelsey Grammer’s troubles started early in life, with his parents splitting up when he was just two years old. His mother’s parents took them in, and helped raise Kelsey until he was 12, when his grandfather died of cancer. The following year, his father was murdered by a home intruder who had started a fire, all in front of his new family.

Then in 1975, Grammer’s 18 year old sister Karen was abducted, raped, and murdered by four men who left her for dead. Sadly, Karen had enough strength to make it to a nearby house, where bloody handprints revealed she was attempting to ring the door. The house was empty. Kelsey identified his sister’s body one week later. 2 years later, both of his half-brothers died in a scuba diving accident.

Shockingly, Grammer has appeared at the parole hearings of the last remaining member of the gang who killed his sister. In 2014, he spoke directly to the killer at the hearing, stating “You could not have come to a better person in the world than me to advocate for someone who has made some bad choices. I accept your apology. I forgive you. However, I cannot give your release my endorsement. To give that a blessing would be a betrayal of my sister’s life.

Nicki Minaj- Mula Stellium (Mercury, Venus & Ketu)

Throughout her childhood, Minaj had to contend with her abusive, drug-addicted father, who would regularly beat her mother, punch holes in the walls, get arrested, and sell their possessions for drug money. At one point, he attempted to kill her mother by lighting the house on fire. Despite all this, the pair are still together, and Dad apparently isn’t too happy when she tells that story. To this, she says “It’s the price you pay when you abuse drugs and alcohol. Maybe one day your daughter will be famous and talk to every magazine about it, so think about that, dads out there who want to be crazy.” Nicki is currently married to a paedophile and convicted rapist so there's that as well.

Terrence Howard, Mula Moon, Ashwini Venus conjunct Saturn

Terrence Howard suffered physical abuse not only at the hands of his father, but his mother as well. When he was two, he witnessed his father stab a man to death, for which he was convicted of manslaughter. His mother raised him until his father was released, at which point they divorced, and he was sent to live with his grandparents. At age 16, Howard had himself legally emancipated, moved to New York, and lived off welfare while he tried to make it as an actor. While that was undoubtedly one of the hardest decisions he will ever make, it seems it was the right one.

Jennifer Hudson, Shatabhisha Moon

In 2008, Jennifer Hudson's mother, Darnell Donnerson (57) and her brother, Jason (29) were shot to death by her estranged brother-in-law, William Balfour. Hudson's nephew, Julian (7), was reported missing, but found three days later dead of multiple gunshot wounds.

Roy Orbison, Ashwini Sun, Jupiter in Mula & Ketu in Ardra

In 1966, Roy Orbison's wife, Claudette Frady, was killed when the couple were riding motorcycles. She was hit by a semi truck and killed instantly. Just two years later, Orbison's house burned down, killing two of his three sons. In 1973, his older brother, Grady, was killed in an auto accident while traveling to spend thanksgiving with Orbison.

Shania Twain, Magha Sun, Mars in Swati She was born into poverty with five siblings in rural Canada. Throughout her childhood, she endured and witnessed abuse to her mother from her stepfather, who lived with the family. Aside from the abuse, her family often didn't have money to have food for lunch or shoes for the winter. Even more tragic, her parents were killed in a car accident when she was 22 years old, and Twain began singing gigs to provide for her siblings. She told Oprah Winfrey in a sit-down interview, "Coming from where I came from, it was unimaginable to ever be wealthy. That was just too far out of my reach." She then went on to become one of the best selling female pop and country artists of all time.

Ashley Judd, Ashwini Sun & Mercury, Magha Jupiter & Ascendant

This actress comes from a famous family, with both her mother and half-sister being country music artists. Judd’s parents divorced when she was four, and she moved all around the southern United States while her mother sought success, attending over a dozen schools. Judd is the survivor of three sexual assaults, and one of these awful instances resulted in an unwanted pregnancy, which Judd terminated. The harmful treatment didn’t stop there. Judd alleges that she was also sexually harassed by Harvey Weinstein, whom she later sued.

Christina Aguilera, Mula Sun

Christina’s father Fausto worked for the US Army, meaning that the family moved around a lot, even going as far as Japan. On top of this lack of stability, her father emotionally and physically abused her. Her parents divorced when Aguilera was six, and she subsequently became estranged from her father. Aguilera used music to escape her turbulent home life, and her talent was obvious from a young age. This talent took her far, and she is now one of the highest-selling artists in the history of music.

Reza Pahlavi and his wife, Princess Soraya, Ardra Stellium (sun, mercury & venus)

Soraya was his favourite wife and supposedly his "true love", but since she was infertile and he had no sons from his other marriage, he had to divorce her to marry another woman, Farah Pahlavi, Ardra Moon, Magha Rising (who did end up giving him 2 sons out of 4 children). Soraya lived in Paris following their divorce and did fall in love again but she did not live a very happy life (her partner died in a plane crash). Farah Pahlavi's reign as Queen was cut short by the Iranian revolution following which both Reza & Farah were exiled from their own country, they lived in many places, Reza passed away 2 years into exile and Farah has since lived in obscurity in the United States. 2 out of her 4 children committed suicide and it is widely assumed that the family has gone broke.

Tragedy can happen to anyone and no nakshatra or planet will protect or prevent it but Rahu influence creates sudden gains and losses. What is quickly gained is also quickly lost. This is why Rahu is deeply connected to entertainment because not only is the entertainment industry entirely illusory, it also does not guarantee anything. You're a glorified freelancer basically. If you're not wise, you can lose everything in minutes. There is so much temptation all around you, you're surrounded by so many false promises and its very easy to lose yourself in all of it. We often see celebrities and idolize their easy lives but very very very few get to be stars their whole lives and live lives of convenience and comfort. For 90& of people its a very scary, tragic, difficult experience of immense highs and lows.

Nodal success feels dissatisfactory because Nodal people are unable to ground themselves in anything solid (unless other aspects that can do this are present) its very very easy for them to lose themselves in Maya or to be so completely detached that they do the necessary "maintenance" work that it takes to be a fully involved human being in anything.

Many say that the reason Farah Pahlavi's life was so tragic was because she took Princess Soraya's rightful place and Soraya's sadness had "cursed" Reza & Farah's marriage. that's stuff of urban myth but don't you think its interesting that a woman who wasn't of noble birth, rose to the ranks of Queen at the age of 21, lived a life of luxury very few can even conceive of and produced 2 male heirs!! which is all that the King wanted🙄🙄but ultimately none of it mattered? Reza having an "heir" made no difference because the Iranian Revolution overthrew the monarchy, they had to leave their palace, their luxuries, their maids and servants and every kind of comfort behind to live like nobodies in exile. They watched their treasury grow smaller and smaller year after year and obviously, no one was used to "working" so nobody got a job to take care of themselves or the others (I mean Farah and her 4 kids btw). They can never go back to their homeland or regain what was once lost. They're in a position that very few (other exiled royals) can relate to. They are socially and culturally isolated. All of these are Nodal themes.

Another Princess with nodal placements and a similarly tragic life is Princess Diana, Ardra Sun & Mercury with Moon conjunct Ketu

There are many royals who've lived more moderate lives or less tragic lives. Having it all and losing it all is a very Nodal theme.

It reminds me of SUGA's Interlude by Halsey (Swati stellium) where she sings:

I been trying all my life To separate the time In between the having it all And giving it up, yeah (Hey) I wonder what's in store If I don't love it anymore (Hey) Step between the having it all And giving it up, yeah (Hey)

Success is a very illusory experience for these natives. Its like trying to build sandcastles on the shore. I am by no means suggesting that Nodal people can't be successful, just that if they depend on "success" to give their life meaning, they're setting themselves up for failure. You ruin anything you singlehandedly obsess over, its important to know when to stop, when to withdraw.

These natives tend to go to extremes just to feel something

Zayn Malik- Shatabhisha Rising and Gigi Hadid- Ashwini Sun & Rising

idk anything about their sex life together but if we're to go by the songs then its 👀 giving bdsm

After that horrendous Revati video that Claire did years ago (and has deleted since I think) people associate BDSM, sexual deviancy and all around freakish behaviour with Revatis but you know who is actually crazy in bed? Nodal people

pornography impacts the brain much like an addictive drug by triggering ever-increasing amounts of dopamine. Over time, the brain builds up a tolerance to the excess dopamine and requires either more access or more extreme content (or sometimes both) to achieve that same level of perceived pleasure. In short, when viewing pornography, your brain gets less pleasure while wanting more, often causing desensitization and an escalation in behavior.

Kanye West, Venus & Mars in Ashwini

Kanye West's first encounter with sexual desire came during early childhood, fueling a dependency on sex that would set in during adulthood. “My dad had a Playboy left out at age 5 and it’s affected almost every choice I made for the rest of my life," West told Elle in 2019. "From age 5 till now, having to kick the habit and it just presents itself in the open like it's OK and I stand up and say, ‘No, it's not OK.’” The singer also credited his faith in God with helping him overcome his struggles. James Franco, Ashwini Sun

Actor James Franco developed an addiction to sex while he was recovering from an addiction to alcohol. On The Jess Cagle Podcast, he admitted to sleeping with students who were attending an acting school he previously ran. “It’s such a powerful drug,” he said. “I got hooked on it for 20 more years. The insidious part of that is that I stayed sober from alcohol all that time.” Since 2016, Franco has been in recovery from sex addiction and continues to work towards a healthy lifestyle.

Billie Eilish, Mula Stellium (Sun, mercury & ketu)

Billie Eilish went through her own struggles with pornography addiction after viewing her first pornographic video at only 11 years old. In an interview on The Howard Stern Show, the "Bad Guy" singer said she used to watch porn to feel like "one of the guys," but has since distanced herself from it entirely. "I think it really destroyed my brain and I feel incredibly devastated that I was exposed to so much porn,"

Charlie Sheen, Mula Moon

he is a pretty well known sex addict and sexual assaulter :/

Michael Douglas, Mula Moon

He's been candid about his struggles with alcohol and sex addiction. Michael even went so far as to say that his throat cancer was caused by performing oral sex on so many women.

Every good thing can be "bad" if its used as a coping mechanism and this includes sex.

Ketuvians are like black holes that absorb all the light, they have to suck everything in. They absorb easily but they don't feel rooted in anything beyond a short period of time. many say that Nodal natives have no moral compass or that they're thrill chasers or that they're not "good people" but honestly Nodal energies are just really hard to master. some people turn it into art, or work or something else where they can channel their obsessive energies fully without holding back. compartmentalizing things is hard for these natives so its important to have areas where you can go all out whilst exercising some modicum of boundary or balance in others.

Maladaptive daydreaming is another big struggle for Nodal people. they're also prone to nihilism and cynicism because they can't enjoy life in the same way as they need a lot of stimulation (they're desensitized to ordinary levels of stimulation of any kind). This means they struggle to find meaning in life. Apathy is their natural state of being. Its just hard to care because in order to care you have to be firmly rooted which Nodal people are not.

This is a quote by Werner Herzog, Ardra Moon who is a filmmaker known for his nihilism and scepticism.

Dos Passos did not have any major placements in any Nodal naks save for his Mars in Mula and Rahu in Shatabhisha but I thought his quote by him really explained things

The real danger of Nodal influence is the indifference and apathy that its natives experience. But Nodal influence is such that you have no place in reality, you exist in the shadows, you live behind the curtain, when your whole life is one long tunnel its hard to "care" or be immersed enough to fully take in their feelings. Nodal natives experience emotional impermanence which means that if you do not actively see proof of or feel a particular emotion, you believe it does not exist. they have to consistently see "proof" of your love for them to believe you. they seldom believe that the feelings others have for them are "real". they think they are the only constant in their life.

its hard for these natives to be passive and consume something without interacting with it. Moon dominants thrive in passivity whereas Rahuvians need to become one with that thing to truly experience it. Ketu also craves this sort of complete union but its different since Ketu pulls you into themselves whereas Rahu wants to pull themselves into you.

Nodal influence creates natives with a very nebulous self-perception and identity. They do not know who they are, they are a mystery even to themselves. Do you ever talk to a guy and think that he has no personality because its hard for him to list favourites or describe what he likes or dislikes etc? He probably has Ketuvian influence. Ketu people try on new aesthetics/personalities like its a makeover game, for a couple of months they'll have a hippie phase, now they're emo, later they're into retro glam or whatever. they like to try on different personas to see which one they like the best, i know this sounds kind of creepy?? but its truly because Ketu natives lack identity and rely on external things to give them a sense of self. This is why they're very uninvolved in the lives of others. They cannot give themselves too much because they dont know enough about themselves to "give" to others.

In vedic mythology, at the beginning of time when the devas and asuras churned the ocean of milk to extract from it the amrita (the elixir of immortality) Mohini, the female avatar of Vishnu, started distributing amrita to the devas. However, one of the asuras, Svarbhanu, sat in the row of devas and drank the amrita. Surya and Chandra noticed him and they informed Mohini; however, by that time, Svarbhanu had already become immortal. Vishnu, as Mohini, cut off Svarbhanu's head with his discus. Svarbhanu, henceforth referred to as Rahu and Ketu, could not die, but his head was separated from his body; his head came to be known as Rahu, while his body came to be known as Ketu. 

Pertaining to this origin story, I have noticed how people with Nodal influence seldom benefit from "nourishing energy". This could mean they were neglected as children, lacked a good family environment, were abused or taken advantage of by others in their life (all of this is also subject to other placements in ones chart). Svarbhanu was a demon who temporarily became immortal because of a mistake. Like I mentioned with fame and success before, these natives struggle to "maintain" what they achieve, especially because their early lives were marked with deprivation of some sort. This could also mean absent parent figures. But there is a sense of "you shouldn't have been where you were".

Rahu energy manifests often as a very manic hyperactive energy

Ranveer Singh is the best example I could think of. He is known in the media for being an eccentric, hyperactive, loud cokehead lmao

He has Ardra Sun, Shatabhisha Moon

Ketu energy is more detached, more reserved, still weird and chaotic but overall less "hyper"

This interview with Lady Gaga is a good example, usually the people being interviewed are walking or moving around and trying to pretend its not scripted but she just sat there for the whole thing lol

Gaga has both Rahu & Ketu influence

She has Rahu in Ashwini in 1h as well as Swati Moon conjunct Ketu

i know i said last time ill make a post about the positive manifestations of nodal influence but its gonna have to wait a little longer 😬😬these are just some things i observed and i thought i should share them. hope this was informative.

[sysmedsaresexist]

so this is an honest question because you seem to understand the ToSD really well, and this is something that has always confused us; is there a specific reason for the idea that identity integration can only be interupted by trauma and not a neurological or biological issue?

We ask because we have autism which has affected almost everything about our existence and functioning from how we process information and sensory input, to how we learn, and even how we experience emotions and more complex things like our self perception and gender.

It is confusing to us that all these other things, including identity and perception, can be changed by something biological/neurological, and thats generally accepted to be true but the idea that and extremely long and complex process that also depends on feedback from other people can't be?

We get specific trauma responses and symptoms but the whole "the only way for states not to integrate/integrate fully is trauma in one specific window" seems to make integration one of if not the only processes in the brain that can't be disrupted by neurology and that is confusing to us

This is a good and valid question.

And here's the truth.

We don't know that it's the only way.

However, that conversation is 100% completely separate from structural dissociation.

It's so important to remember that structural dissociation is specifically and solely focused on dissociation in response to trauma.

Nothing else. It can't be compared to anything else.

I'm genuinely not sure how to structure this post, so I'm going to talk about a couple different theories/ideas, in no particular order. Give it a chance and read to the end, where we talk about the flip side.

I think we need to first talk about trauma in relation to developmental and neurological disorders.

As a reminder, trauma is not an event, but a reaction to things around you.

For children with things like autism, ADHD, anxiety, OCD, they're not only at a higher risk of being abused and traumatized, but they're more easily traumatized by a wider range of things. They're the populations most prone to pathological dissociation.

Did you daydream a lot as a kid? Does MaDD kind of hit hard? Did teachers and parents get really mad at you for your dissociation?

I hate to tell you this, but there's a high chance you're traumatized.

And the thing with CPTSD, what is essentially a precursor to DID and (largely considered) to be a dissociative disorder, is that it can be so hard to pinpoint where and how it started. It's a lifetime of papercuts vs a car accident. Do you remember every little cut? The cause can seem invisible.

The leading cause of CPTSD is emotional neglect, something even the most well-intentioned parents can do without ever meaning to. It's called the invisible abuse for a reason.

And emotional neglect happens so much easier when your child has additional needs that are commonly missed and not diagnosed until adulthood, long after the crucial period where they needed the most help.

All that said, we need to talk again about how many of those disorders include dissociation already.

Not only is dissociation common, but things like autism are highly recognized to affect a person's sense of self, specifically in childhood, but now you're getting into "chicken and egg" conversations.

In my own opinion, I would think that if autism alone could result in dissociated identities, we would know that by now. I mean, look at BPD, we know what happens with trauma in childhood that doesn't result in DID. There's an incredible amount of discussion about whether certain cases of BPD are actually sister-versions of OSDD (think OSDD-1c, the less defined alters seen in 1a, plus the lack of amnesia seen in 1b).

All THAT said, we're talking about dissociation and trauma.

This doesn't touch on the way people define and interpret their personal experiences. It seems completely plausible that people could simply just be more in tune with aspects of themselves, and view life through a comfortable, happy lens of multiplicity.

The multiple self theory has been around as long as the ToSD.

And that discussion doesn't necessarily need to be separate from dissociation and trauma, but I think for some it just is.

In every sense of the word, it just... is.

It simply is that way for them.

I firmly believe these two concepts would be 100% separate and different (acknowledging that for some, these can and do overlap, but I'm talking about brain scan level differences)

Unfortunately, words are limited, and there's only one perfect word for both experiences.

"System".

I hope this was some food for thought. I encourage people to get involved in the conversation!

[cinderella-ish]

Why Machi and Yuki just make sense together (but I still love Yukeru and YukiKyo)

(Just look at how Yuki smiles when they're together! Gah!!!!)

So I've written about Yuki pairings before, and I've been pretty open about both my undying love for Yuchi AND my enjoyment of two of the other frequent Yuki pairings, Yukeru and YukiKyo.

As I've been doing more analysis, especially the Enneagram series (which isn't finished btw!), I've started to realize that Yuchi was written and set up almost as well as Kyoru, and the only reason it's harder to see is because Yuki's arc is distinctly non-romantic.

I'm currently working on an analysis of his arc over the course of the story, and romance just isn't really a factor in his arc beyond him rejecting compulsory romance with Tohru. In fact, the people who share the biggest emotional and plot beats with him are Tohru, Kyo, Akito, Haru, and Kakeru (in no particular order). I'll come back to this in a bit.

So if Yuki doesn't really have a romance arc, what makes him and Machi such a good match?

Well, going back to my Enneagram posts about them, Yuki is a SP 4w3, and Machi is a SP 3w4. They're mirrors of each other.

In my intro to the Enneagram post, I shared each type's core fear and core desire. Here are 3 and 4:

Core desire (3): to be loved for who they are, to be valuable and worthwhile

Core fear (3): being worthless, insignificant; failure

Core desire (4): to be seen and loved for who they are

Core fear (4): having no personal identity or significance, being flawed and missing out on some basic aspect of happiness that other people have access to

What Yuki and Machi each want most is for someone to love them for who they truly are. Yuki (largely due to Akito's abuse, but also the erasure of his friends' memories, Ayame's indifference, his mother's coldness, and Kyo's hatred of him) believes people wouldn't want to know him if he showed his true self because of his perceived defects. And Machi (due to the successorship battle, her mother's insults and demands of perfection, and her parents' bad faith reading of her actions) believes she's failed at the role laid out for her and lacks any value or significance.

Because Yuki is a bit further on in his personal growth than Machi when they meet, he sees her struggle and recognizes it, giving Machi the thing she most needs as an achievement-oriented 3 when he praises her simply for being who she is ("You've worked hard to become the Machi you are today.").

And because that moment was so transformative for Machi, she sees and recognizes Yuki's inner kindness, giving him the thing he most needs as an identity-concerned 4 when she tells him it took someone like him to notice someone like her.

I often see people argue that Yuki's relationship with Machi isn't mutual; that he gives and she takes. I also see people argue that Yuki's relationships with Tohru, Haru, and Kakeru aren't mutual; that they give and Yuki takes. I firmly disagree with both of these assessments, but I think Yuki himself would only disagree with the first.

Beginning with Machi, there are the obvious ways she contributes to their relationship, like when she rescued him from the storage room, and there are the moderately obvious ways, like when he overheard her saying that he's not like a prince and he seems lonely (thus showing that she understands him). But Yuki also needed to feel significant to someone the way he felt to Machi. He needed someone to figure out.

This makes sense for him as a 4. Since being seen and loved for himself is the thing Yuki wants most deeply, it's also what he thinks "giving" means in a relationship. Kyo could read Tohru in a way Yuki never could, and that made him feel inferior. He tried "competing" with Kyo for Tohru, because he thought that was what he was expected to do, but it wasn't what he truly wanted. Kakeru and Haru have already been through their most relevant growth by the time the series starts, so Yuki doesn't feel like he has anything to contribute to their relationships (even though he was the impetus for Haru's growth many years ago).

But Yuki did help his friends, and often. He was the one who offered Tohru a room in the house he shared with Shigure. He helped Tohru study. He checked on Haru after he was suspended and independently decided to try and talk to Rin on his behalf. He helped Kakeru be more empathetic and experienced alongside him some of the things they missed out on in their childhoods.

And it needs to be said that his friendship with Tohru, Haru, and Kakeru mattered at least as much to them as it did to him. Tohru was so lonely, and Yuki was the first close friend she made after her mother died. Haru was angry all the time until Yuki challenged some of the family's prejudice about him. Kakeru, like Yuki, didn't really get to have a normal childhood, including the silly shenanigans that kids get up to with their friends.

So, going back to the statement I made above, that Yuki shares his most significant story beats with Kakeru, Akito, Tohru, Kyo, and Haru, this is part of what makes Yukeru and YukiKyo such rich pairings to explore.

You could argue that Yuki has 3 "coming out" scenes in Fruits Basket. There's the one where he tells Kakeru how he really feels about Tohru, taking place at the third plot point. There's the one where he tells Kyo how he really feels about him, which occurs at the climax. And there's the one where he tells Tohru how he really feels about her, in the resolution.

Some of it has to do with the content of these scenes. In Kakeru's and Tohru's, he's admitting he doesn't see Tohru romantically, even though he initially felt like he should.

It's touching that Kakeru is the first person he opens up to about this. It speaks to their closeness and the fact that they're on similar journeys reclaiming some of the childhood that was stolen from them. And it certainly has a gay subtext (is it even subtext if he literally comes out of a closet in this scene?).

And as for Kyo, Yuki's admiration could easily be read as infatuation. The fact that they've been misunderstanding each other this whole time when they really have this huge thing in common would be a great basis for the start of a relationship.

In contrast, Yuki doesn't really have much of an arc with Machi. He's responsible for many (all?) of her most emotional story beats, but the parts of Yuki's actual arc that shine are moments like the ones I mentioned above, or when Haru talks to him at his story midpoint after he finds Rin near the house, or when he and Tohru see the shooting stars and he begins to internally accept his feelings toward her.

So, each of these characters plays a role in Yuki's arc. Tohru is the catalyst, Haru the mentor, Akito the shadow, Kyo the antagonist, Kakeru the sidekick, and Machi the love interest.

Machi sort of exists within Yuki's story as a vehicle for him to show his growth. As he gets more comfortable with himself, he takes her by the hand so she can walk the same path as him.

I've said before that I think his arc would've been satisfying without him ending up in a relationship at the end, and I still think that's true. Romance is not really a part of his trajectory beyond rejecting it with Tohru.

But I really, really love him with Machi, and it was satisfying in a different way to see how all the growing he did throughout the story allowed him to be just who she needed, and how she, in turn, was exactly who he needed, too.

Here are some sweet Yuchi posts, just because I love them so much!

the chalk scene

more chalk

more chalk

cool fanart

more cool fanart!

mangacaps

more mangacaps

Machi learning how to person

anime screencaps

even Mutsuki ships them!

[garaks-huge-naturals]

the frustrating aromantic representation of chuck tingle's "bury your gays"

i feel like i should preface this by saying that i'm a huge chuck tingle fan and, representation aside, i greatly enjoyed his book. so this is not like, a hate take down. this will contain spoilers for bury your gays, you are warned.

the parts i have issues with will be more towards the end and are marked.

a quick synopsis: misha is a queer horror writer who is told to either kill off his gay characters after getting them together, or let them live and be straight (for the algorithm, ratings, etc). while he is reeling from this he begins being stalked by the monsters/villains of his past works. plot happens and these monsters are really nanobot contractions from his studio's fx company. misha survives these attempts on his life (and his boyfriend's and best friend's), eventually giving a heartfelt award speech about the need for a shift towards queer joy. when he comes back to work the entire studio is like decked out in pride flags and the now stereotypically gay management tells him that queer is IN! even better, it's profitable (according to the algorithm). but these nanobots are still out there. so they go to the fx studio to insert a virus that takes them down, the best friend, tara, being an unprecedented aroace that the algorithm has no information on due to a lack of content, is able to circumvent the nanobots and take them down!! happy ending!! yippee!!

i'll be going in order of the book, touching on the times where tara's identity is relevant

tara's aspecness is established almost immediately when she says "you know i don't swing that way...i don't swing any way, baby." classic aspec joke, i have no issue with this.

its first explicit mention is on page 42, "tara is aromantic and asexual, which has always made me appreciate her take on relationship advice." ok this part is so real. we are so good at that.

ok now we get into the main stuff. Tara says, "do you realize how hard it is to tell your parents you're asexual?" this part is true, and in comparison to misha coming out as gay. and i really appreciate it highlights the strange societal position aspecs are in!! it's hard to affirm an identity defined by a lack. and even harder for baby wanting parents to accept an identity that is largely incompatible with the nuclear family model. as this is in reference to like sex -> having a child, mentioning just the asexuality makes sense. but it is still weird to not mention how hard explaining aromanticism would be considering aces can more easily have straight passing relationships. let's begin a tally: ace mentions: 2, aro mentions: 1.

(!) time skip we are now towards the end. misha is giving his heartfelt speech, "i call on all of you to usher in a new era of stories where the gay, or bi, or lesbian, or asexual, or pansexual, or trans character lives happily ever after. buy those stories. make those stories profitable." we are now entering the territory here i begin to get a little angry. fandoms and drama in shows are so closely tied with romance. they are profitable. they are like, the lifeblood of ao3, etc. people also have this notion that you need a partner to be happy, and that this is a universal goal. so characters and story arcs that stray away from this tend to be, y'know, less profitable. and since this is extremely relevant to aromanticism as an identity and important to debunk, the lack of a mention of aromanticism is frankly stunning. our stories are not wanted, we have no characters to live happily ever after. because we are not profitable. we don't get that joy. so where are we? this is a nitpick but i find it strange that misha would forget to mention like, entirely half of his friend's identity. ace mentions: 3, aro mentions: 1

(!!!) this is the most egregious part to me. when i read this part i was genuinely so stunned that i started crying. ok so i've established that aros have very little representation. it is a fact that there is less aro representation than ace representation. especially in regards to non-ace aros. "there's a hero clad in pink, purple, and blue, the bi one...this continues on and on until every aspect of the community has been covered...tara steps up next to me, her eyes locked on the poster. "there' no asexual hero...they've got everyone up there besides an ace character...every fucking time." ok. so. a lack of representation for aspecs is like a Thing That We All Know. as also established, aros are not algorithm friendly, so i just see no plausible way that there is aro representation but not ace representation. and there's just this like, poetic irony to this. that aros are so forgotten, so uncared for, that the author of the fucking book forgot to even mention them. because there are three ways this shakes out here. either there is an aro in the line up and dr. tingle deprived us of the validation we need to justify our anger for a lack of representation (which effects us all but aros more). or he just straight up forgot to include us. or he's grossly conflating the two identities. there's no good option. anyway. ace mentions: 5, aro mentions: 1

here we have yet another mention of tara being ace, yet not aro, "my name's tara. i'm the asexual in the corner everyone's been ignoring." would be funny if aromanticism hadn't been grossly ignored once again. ace mentions: 6, aro mentions: 1

(!!!) time for tara to save the day (girlboss). "just pull up all the information you have on asexual and aromantic heroes...oh wait, that's gonna be pretty fucking difficult because there are almost no human asexual heroes represented in popular media, are there." like actually like the fuck. what the fuck. there are so little aro heroes that the author forgot about the one he had!! there are so little aro heroes that the author fucking forgot to mention how few there are. incredible. ace mentions: 10, aro mentions: 2 (ace mentions not quoted here but part of the rant)

so. thats the end of the book. it seems to me that dr. tingle might be a little confused. he's been a great supporter in the past of the aspec community. but there is a pattern of aro erasure in this book that frankly, pisses me off! but wait, there is more!

dr. tingle. babygirl. bestie. what the fuck is this? op explicitly said aroace character. and what do you do? you reblog with only an ace flag. do you not remember your character's own identity? or do you not acknowledge aros outside or aces? let's look at some more quotes from this post.

wow thanks for the solidarity dr. tingle (like, actually)!

what is this? whoopty fucking doo! aros totally dropped after their initial mention? again! but there is simply no precedent for this!!

i'd like to end this with a quote by dr. tingle.

glad you remembered the aces. maybe next time, remember the marginalized people you leave behind.

[autistic-sidestep]

OH ALSO FOR THE SHIP BINGO. Sura and Mortum because i KNOW that's brewing in your brain rn and I want to hear more about them 👀👀

suramortum!!!!!1 fuck it took me 5 months to answer this anyways throws this under the cut (it gets slowly more incoherent towards the end because i am very tired)

so suramortum. i hadnt considered them as a thing when i first played but gradually through codediving and exploring more of mortum's route i really liked the new dimensions it showed of sidestep + how multifaceted the good doctor was. I’ve been fiddling a lot with sura + made it more ruthless + calculated, therefore nudging itself further away from ricardo/heroic persona, and mortum represents a lot more present/future thinking whereas ric’s looking back at the past.

to me i think sura did earnestly first fall for mortum all the way back in rebirth at the cape scene:

You watch the image of the armor rotating in the air as Dr. Mortum adds a variety of capes to the sleek image. There's a look of almost childish joy on her face that makes it hard not to smile in return. "I didn't know you were so fond of capes," you tease. "I'm not." There's a pause, and a sheepish shrug. "Alright, maybe I am. It adds a sense of style that I feel most people these days lack."

someone else who also enjoys design and knows there's power in appearances and genuinely just being able to collaborate with a fellow artist was really nice for sura

Besides the t4t they’re both lonely people starved/desperate for connection and that juxtaposition w/ the fronts they maintain to keep themselves safe, and mortum's route really hits the heart of sura’s issues. eg at the gala:

"It's an interesting feeling, isn't it?" Dr. Mortum looks around the crowd for a moment before returning ${mhis} gaze to you. "To look back and realize how much you've changed. How far you've come." "I suppose." You snort a little in amusement. For a moment, you can see your younger self, standing in a party not unlike this one, feeling completely overwhelmed for very different reasons. "Never thought I'd end up like this." "For people like us, the first time stepping out of line means stepping into our own. I recognized a kindred spirit in you from our first meeting." You turn to look at the good doctor, frowning a little as you try to decide how you are supposed to handle this conversation. $!{mhe} has turned out to be more perceptive than you bargained for.

  #I'm curious about what ${mhe} thinks of me, so I will let ${mhim} continue leading the conversation.     "Really? What kind of a kindred spirit is that?" You smile a little coyly, pushing back your nervous twitch about being investigated like this.     "Someone who is in the process of reinventing themselves." $!{mhe} rubs ${mhis} chin a little, looking you over. "Into what, I'm not sure."     "Isn't that true for everybody, though?"     "Sadly, no. Most people are satisfied with what life has given them. They might whine and complain, but they will make no attempt to change their circumstances."     "But I am?"     "Are you telling me that I'm wrong?" Dr. Mortum looks honestly puzzled, as if nobody had ever dared to do that before.     "Not exactly…." You drag out the pause a little too long. "Just that I'm uncomfortable with being scrutinized this closely."     "I'm not your enemy, ${title}." $!{mhe} smiles a little as ${mhe} looks into your eyes. "Quite the opposite, in fact."

the transtalk during the lovers scene route (which i am always at least a little irritated that sura can’t reach naturally because being intersex and trans are mutually exclusive so i edit the savefile just for that) and the (good) reveal scene really cemented junomortum/suramortum for me though.

Sura’s always masking and acting and lying because it’s an ingrained habit from the Farm and a defense mechanism (and we also can’t forget those identity issues). mortum is one of the few people that's perceptive enough (and that's allowed) to see through some of sura's facades (partly because there's none of the baggage of knowing what sura Used to be like the way it is with chen and ortega)

trans lovers talk:

"I'm sorry," you say [...] "I didn't mean to touch a nerve." "You didn't." She pats you on the back, pulling you a little closer. "Some people…they do. There's this morbid curiosity I can't stand. Like I'm a slab of meat they are trying to find fault with. But you, ma cherie, you…" This time she looks you straight in the eye. "I what?" You are the one turning away your gaze this time. "I get the feeling you understand." "Maybe I do." You can't hide your sigh because you do. Not in a way you can explain to her, but you do. "I wasn't sure at first. You look rather…comfortable with yourself for…" She doesn't say it out loud, but you know what she implies. Juno comes across as so confident, it must be hard for someone else to imagine how much of a mess you are. "I'm good at keeping up appearances," you say, and it's not even much of a lie. Layer the masks thick enough, and they become armor. <- sura's motto right here

"You are," Dr. Mortum admits, but she keeps looking at you with the faintest of frowns. "A little too much for your own good, I think." "No, I like being inscrutable." You slide from her grip, giving her a pat on her shoulder. "Roll over. You're looking at me too much." "Even to me, ma cherie?" But she follows your command, rolling over on her stomach. "Do you still need to hide who you really are around here?" "Yes." You slide on top of her, starting to massage her shoulders. A little rougher than you need to, but she deserves it. "You don't have to," she gently suggests. "I don't judge." "That's what everybody says." You lean into your hands, finding a particularly tense muscle. "Right before they judge you." "I can understand your paranoia, but…" "If you do, then drop this subject, and I'll think about it." That's a lie, but she doesn't need to know that. Your mask is the only thing keeping you safe, no matter how much she claims she would understand. Agh. How did you end up getting caught in another anxiety loop brought on by your own damnable curiosity?

i just. [clenches fist]

also the post-confession stuff! since sura gets stuck in juno (puppetcrash + puppetstuck) i love that mortum even as justifiably upset as she is still cares enough to rescue puppetstuck sura after they'd assumed all bridges between them had been burned (outside scar w/ a lot of self loathing and a self-destructive streak whoops). it's so messy and complicated and i just love them being able to pick through the mess and slowly progress forward (with a lot of apologies, effort and reconcilliation on sura's part). they're not good people but they can still find solace in eachother.

(i think sura's probably headed for a bad ending but mortum might be able to change the trajectory with a bit of luck)

also mortum's audhd and sura's autism ! neurodivergent couple :3 i love that mortum's always checking for consent and how much she cares.

also!!! mortum and sura being the hottest villain powercouple on the west coast is very hot. im thinking about coordinated costumes for annual halloween villain galas and just massively ruthless competence. they can cover eachothers blindspots since mortum's the tech person and sura's got the contacts and the charisma as argos.

sura's down just. horrendously bad for the good doctor. i've likened them to an aloof/hissy housecat with everyone else but a very affectionate lapcat with Only mortum. i'm picturing all kinds of silly domesticity in the lab. in a good end au sura gets its cat back from elena's place and the three live together :'3

[dramavixen]

are producers the clowns for approving subpar endings or am i the clown for expecting more

**Spoilers for:

Love Like the Galaxy (China, 2022)

The Red Sleeve (South Korea, 2021)

Late as I am to every bandwagon, I at last completed my first watch-through of Love Like the Galaxy a few days ago. For the past couple of weeks, I have done nothing but think about, consume, and breathe this story. At last, a show that was ticking all the boxes! I could tear myself free from this drama slump of mine!

This celebration lasted until I sat down with my parents to observe that thing the producers might call an "ending," but which sparked a frustration in me so severe that it triggered a post-COVID coughing fit, which in turn almost made me throw up. I couldn't comprehend it: was this the same show? Did I accidentally click on a parallel universe version where everyone's intelligence was operating 20% capacity?

Since I'd like to avoid making myself physically ill again, I'm not going to focus too much on how logic abruptly becomes an imaginary concept throughout the last two episodes. At least all that did was make me angry. What I can't accept is that they use that lack of logic to curse our leads with the most careless of reconciliations.

To alleviate my distress, we're going to perform an investigation. A deduction, if you will, of precisely what the ending was lacking, and utilizing a case study of how to conclude a story in both a fitting and compelling manner.

An unresolved misery

In recent years, my tolerance for male leads' misbehavior has plummeted down into the core of the earth. You could say that after years of being brainwashed by media into excusing male characters' questionable actions due to how much they "love" their partners, I'm taking back my common sense. So when faced with Zisheng's killing spree while armed with the knowledge that a "happy ending" was endgame, I anticipated how the writers would close such an abyssal rift in the leads' relationship. And the result was...well, not all that worth it.

If you need a memory refresh or you're reading this without fear of spoilers (godspeed), the conclusion of LLTG sees Shaoshang being kidnapped multiple times by people who she knows don't hold good intentions, but she goes along with them anyway. Don't ask why (the answer is so Zisheng can swoop in to rescue her). Some needlessly dramatic things lead to Shaoshang assuming for a few seconds that Zisheng has died in an explosion. But lo and behold! Here he comes, emerging unscathed from the ordeal. She flies into his arms and forgives him. Then they run off and save China, because it's not a historical C-drama until they do.

By the time we got to the fire/explosion scene, my mental state had already been reduced to a pulp. Therefore, to write this piece, I had to rewatch that part and make sure I was getting all the details right. It shocked me into a second round of holding my head to prevent my brain from ejecting itself as it sought to escape this reality.

(Also, I have to take a moment here to demand justice for He Zhaojun. They leave a pregnant woman on the floor after dragging her out of a fire, while she's having contractions, so they can instead take the time to hold a premature mourning session for Zisheng. Guys, it's not the end of the world if you don't have a brain. But please don't throw away your conscience.)

However the writers did it, it still counts as a happy ending. Such a conclusion should come as a relief, so why do I find it so hard to come to terms with? Let's rewind a tad.

Both Shaoshang and Zisheng grew up under grim circumstances, their identities subjecting them to emotional and social turmoil. But while they share a similar internal struggle, they must deal with it in opposing ways. Shaoshang opens herself up to anyone who shows her true kindness, desperate for someone to accept her for who she is. On the other hand, Zisheng can only isolate himself from everyone, unable to reveal his true self due to both political and personal interests.

Their eventual parting is unavoidable. Shaoshang is moved by Zisheng's unwavering love for her. Can't blame her all that much; just look at him. But the closer she gets, the more Zisheng fears dragging her into his mess of a life, and the more he pulls away. When Zisheng chooses vengeance over love, he's already crossed Shaoshang's bottom line several times by refusing to share his troubles whenever she asked—the irony being that he once scolded her for keeping things to herself.

ZS: If, one day, they really intend to kill you, would you not tell me then, either? Shaoshang, exactly who do you take me for? Why must you always act on your own, and not trust me? SS: It is not that I do not want to trust you. I simply— ZS: You simply do not care about me. After betrothing you, I would frequently think about how great it would be if I could become your confidant and anchor. You could tell me about all of your fears and loneliness. I do not wish to control you. All I hope is that you can be honest with me. But how is it that your heart never warms toward me?

I see that Zisheng is a loyal believer of the "do as I say, not as I do" doctrine.

While it's initially funny to look back on the above scene in context, it's quite sad once you mull over it more. Zisheng's desire to know Shaoshang's troubles is rooted in a concern for her safety that is both emotional and practical in nature. When Shaoshang later applies that same thinking on him, the tables have turned completely. Zisheng is now aware that few situations are simple enough to be resolved just by being honest with someone else. And if the problem is severe enough, doing so may only aggravate it further.

From his perspective, telling Shaoshang would mean ruining her and her family's lives by association. Not to mention, she herself swore that she would stay with him through everything. So if he dies as a result of carrying out his revenge, the possibility of her dying solidifies itself as an inevitability. Leaving her behind is the one method he has to ensure that he alone would suffer the consequences.

Like it or not, it's hard to blame either of them for the end of their relationship. Is Zisheng wrong to keep Shaoshang in the dark? Arguably yes, arguably no. But is Shaoshang justified in her anger about being kept in the dark? Absolutely.

While we can be reasonably upset that post-timeskip Shaoshang possesses none of the outspoken nature of her teenage self, her lingering depression is the most realistic result of everything that happens. She has tried repeatedly to find her place in the world, yet arrives at nothing but failure every time. Not to mention, she suffers from an inferiority complex that intensifies the ache of each and every rejection. She isn't unfamiliar with being abandoned, but Zisheng doing it to her is the final straw that breaks her. The coffin her family was preparing for her didn't go to waste—the moment that Zisheng turned his back on her, he killed a part of her. Meanwhile, Zisheng becomes a corpse with a pulse, someone who only continues to breathe so he can regret what he has done.

When you delve into how much Zisheng hurt Shaoshang and himself, it becomes clear that a Michael Bay explosion shouldn't have been the answer to their problem. After the timeskip, the issue at hand should be less about her forgiving him than it is about each of them needing to redeem parts of themselves that they lost to the circumstances. That's why their interactions at this point are so painful to watch. Every word, every look, every movement brims with love for the other person, but they are both shells of their former selves that cannot move on.

No words for the above; too busy sobbing as they each individually accept that they'll never experience true happiness again.

As a viewer, you know that Shaoshang accepting him at this point would be an objectively bad idea. But it's also hell to watch two people, both overly accustomed to suffering, walk away from the person who brought them the greatest joy in their life. That's the art of tragedy, flourishing before us in a quiet, leaden fog. And they killed it in a bloom of gunpowder, of all things?

The beauty in tragedy

To say that a tragic ending is inherently superior to a happy one would be a pretentious fallacy. At the same time, a forced happy ending will feel unstable enough that the slightest of questions will cast it into doubt. The genre of an ending is irrelevant. It only matters that the ending is the right one.

So should LLTG have ended with the leads parting ways for good? To find the answer, I want to first dig into a successful example of tragedy. For that, let's look to our dearest, our legendary, our precious: The Red Sleeve.

Similar in premise to LLTG, TRS features a female lead with independent thinking and a dream for freedom, faced with a man of high social status who goes about chasing her in a way that flaunts his power. The stakes are higher in TRS since the man in question will one day be king, but the highlight of the show is the same as in LLTG: you bounce back and forth between hoping that she ends up with him and praying to any god that exists that she runs far, far away from him. You can't really win.

One day I'd love to write a thorough analysis on the amazing character that is Sung Deok-Im, but for our current purposes I'll focus on the nature of her ending. TRS is roughly based on history, and a quick Google search when you begin the drama will inform you that our female lead is fated to die at 33 years old—only a few years after she is "promoted" from gungnyeo to Yi San's consort. As a result, you spend much of the drama battling the lurking dread of how her death comes about.

A few months after her young son passes away, Deok-Im falls ill and dies. The unborn child in her womb follows her. Yi San is beside her as Deok-Im slips away, and her dying wish is cruel but fair: should they meet again in another life, she begs Yi San to pass her by. Only then can she choose to live a free life, full of choices, which was all she had wanted until she fell in love with him.

While watching LLTG, my emotions mirrored those I endured through TRS. Both dramas force you to get to know the female lead as someone who wants to be herself, a baffling idea in the face of a society where women's primary identities are those associating them with someone else: daughters, wives, sisters, mothers. Yet she continues to harbor hope that she can control her own life, even as she falls in love with a man whose station will certainly snuff out that possibility. The saving grace in LLTG is that Zisheng is not a part of the royal family, and even then Shaoshang goes through her fair share of frustration. TRS on the other hand...even if you haven't seen it, you can likely guess what happens.

The biggest tragedy in TRS is not that Deok-Im dies young. It's the despair that trickles through every part of you as she transforms from a free-spirited, boisterous young woman into an obedient consort whose every word and movement is straight out of the books of etiquette, who isn't permitted her own feelings or thoughts in the face of the country's interests. History may not share the specifics behind how the consort actually died, but the drama all but tells you that depression played a major role. By the end of the drama, Deok-Im hasn't existed for a while. She dies as Royal Noble Consort Ui.

I wonder what I have gained by being in this place, and what I have lost.

I cry inconsolably whenever I see this expression of acceptance and resignation on her face as she sends off her friends and her former self, knowing full well that she has caged herself into a life of sadness so she can be with the one she loves—a man whose first priority can never be her.

But oh, no; our suffering doesn't end there. Yi San lives on after her, looking after his country while carrying the lingering pain of Deok-Im's death. At one point, he retrieves her belongings and appears stunned by her gungnyeo clothing:

It is so small. Were you always so small? Yet, I loved you.

In Yi San’s memory, Deok-Im was a person of great stature. What she may have lacked in social position, she more than made up for in personality. Her tenacity made her appear so strong that only in hindsight does Yi San understand just how vulnerable she was.

Yi San is also someone to be pitied. When we watch palace dramas, it's easy to say that the king's consorts have it far worse than the king. They fight over a man in order to survive, and arguably their sacrifices are greater in number and magnitude. But it's egregious to host a competition of suffering, and you can't deny that Yi San himself leads an unfortunate life. In the cold isolation of the palace, Deok-Im gives him warmth and company. It's no wonder that he wishes to have her by his side, but he is still willing to let her go when she pushes him away.

Almost every other palace drama would have you turning up your nose at the king or emperor's so-called "love" for one of the women in his harem. TRS leaves no room for such doubt. The throne takes away Yi San's ability to choose, and ultimately his ability to wholeheartedly love someone. Even so, Yi San holds Deok-Im so dear that you might want to blame him for how she ends up, but it's hard. Really, really hard. (For anyone interested and who hasn't already, I highly recommend reading the actual history behind this drama. Dude was so in love that it physically hurts.)

In the final scene, he reunites with Deok-Im in the afterlife. At last, they are together and without all the frills and chains of royalty tying them down.

Many years have passed, and at times, I was not certain myself. Do I truly miss you, or do I simply glorify the past? Now I know. I missed you, and I missed the time that I spent with you. [...] Now I understand that we do not have much time. And we do not have the luxury to wait. So, love me. Please. Love me.

I'm always scared to watch the last episode because I just spend the full hour and a half bawling until I can't breathe. Taking these few screenshots was truly a test of my entire being.

So what makes a good tragedy? Tragedy is not "bad things happen." It's "bad things may have happened, but I wouldn't have chosen any differently." When Deok-Im becomes Yi San's consort, it isn't because he keeps her there. She chooses to stay. She loves the prospect of freedom, but she just loves Yi San more. It's awful, it hurts, and it's perfect.

What could have been

We've taken a slight detour, but have at last arrived back at the topic of: how should LLTG have ended?

If given the choice between Shaoshang and Zisheng being together and them not being together, I would obviously choose the former while beating the latter into a permanent nonexistence. With any degree of empathy, you can't watch two people suffer as Shaoshang and Zisheng do, then turn around and wish for their continued misfortune and loneliness. So although I'll concede that it would have easily made for a fantastic tragedy like TRS, I can't bear to say that it should have been one. But if the writers want to go for the non-obvious happy ending, it still has to follow the progression of things.

The current problem is this: Zisheng abandoned Shaoshang and scorned her trust in him. We're now in a position where Shaoshang has the decisive say in whether the relationship can be revived.

LLTG's primary focus has always been Shaoshang. Though multifaceted, her personality and motivations are pretty straightforward. Each time she suffers is a result of her lack of agency. She had no choice in her parents leaving her as an infant, no choice in her poor upbringing, no choice in agreeing to marry Zisheng. Even when she gave up Lou Yao, was that truly a result of her volition alone? For someone whose greatest enemy is helplessness, what matters most is maintaining her own free will.

Through this lens, each time Shaoshang asks Zisheng if he has something to tell her, not only is she asking him to trust in her as his equal, she wants him to let her decide to stay with him. Zisheng turning her away scars her so deeply because it's the same thing as telling her, "I don't care what you want to do." He's drawing a line while taking away from her the power to choose—the one thing she's told him repeatedly matters to her.

SS: I used to hate you for abandoning me. I hated that you acted on your own. I hated that you would rather leap from a cliff than walk alongside me. I hated that I loved you so truly, whereas you told me lie after lie. It has been five years. It was not easy to let go of all of this. I can no longer give away my heart or trust again. ZS: I am sorry. Regardless of what choice you make, I will respect it. These last few years in the Northwest, not a day went by where I was not filled with remorse. I know you. I knew completely that you feared being abandoned. Yet I still chose to harm you in the way that would hurt you the most. In the first twenty years of my life, I lived in hatred. And for the rest of my life, I will live in remorse. If I could, I would tear my heart from my chest to show you. But I know I no longer have that right.

"A married couple exists as one entity." Such is what the drama emphasizes time and again, but what does that mean? Not that one party is in automatic agreement with the other. It's about learning to reach compromises and understanding what's important to the other person. When you don't give your partner their say in that conversation, then what relationship is there to be had?

That is why Shaoshang's unwavering desire for individual opinion matters even more after entering a relationship, and why she still struggles to come to terms with what Zisheng has done. She doesn't blame him. She doesn't want him to beg for forgiveness. After everything she's been through, she just can't put herself in the same vulnerable position again. And he's learned to fully respect her opinion, which means that he has to let her go.

TRS's ending works for the simple reason that it remains true to the characters and their motivations. The tragedy isn't there to make us sad, it's just where the story was always going to find itself. This is why we as viewers hate the ending, but we wouldn't have wanted it written any other way—to do so would be betraying Deok-Im and Yi San.

But when you look LLTG, it gives you a very weak argument for Shaoshang and Zisheng's reconciliation. In front of you are two people whose love for one another could not run any deeper, yet there are legitimate obstacles to their relationship. Shaoshang needs to relearn trust and feel respected. Zisheng's conflict mimics that of Yi San's; as much as he may regret the past, there is nothing about it that can be changed. That regret is something that has to be addressed. (Of course, in Yi San's case, that was addressed through his death. So maybe not that for Zisheng, if you please.)

I can see where the writers attempt to cure Zisheng's remorse, but come on now. They stage a bizarre speech for him where he denounces his previous actions, like a child being punished by his parents and being forced to write a 200-word essay reflecting on his wrongdoings, and while they're being held in the most asinine hostage situation ever known to man. He seriously proclaims that he should have walked the honorable path instead of opting for vigilante justice.

This entire scene was a nauseating roller coaster, but that last part threw me for a major loop. Sir, the only reason you can say that so shamelessly is because your soon-to-be wife found evidence after you killed the guy. Are you really going to stand there with a straight face as you tell me that you regret how you killed the man who you watched murder your father, and who brought about the horrific deaths of your entire family? There was no other option at the time. Of course you had to kill him. It was as much a personal vendetta as it was political. No one likes what happened after that, but those are consequences that should be dealt with separately. Also, Shaoshang's qualms aren't rooted in you killing the guy, they're rooted in you killing him and then trying to kill yourself, all without taking her desires into consideration.

And just as I was thinking the above, the next thing that happened on-screen: Shaoshang turns to him with an expression that says, ah, so he's learned his lesson! Oh...my goodness.

Hi, ma'am? Question. What exactly is more emotionally persuasive about this weird declaration now than when he laid his heart out that night when you wished one another well and said goodbye? Is it because he almost explodes afterward? In the five years he spent out on the battlefield, was he not always in danger of exploding, or being stabbed, or being tortured to death, etc.? Did he not almost die saving you from falling off a cliff two days prior? Why didn't you waver then, especially since it should remind you of, you know, the other time that he jumped off a cliff?

During the scene where she runs to him after discovering he miraculously is not dead, a severe suspicion came over me that perhaps they inhaled so much smoke that they were no longer thinking straight.

A solid happy ending was clearly a possibility. Even if they wanted to go with the above nonsense, could we not also have had a moment where they admit to one another that while overcoming their pain will be difficult at first, being apart from one another for eternity would be much more painful? That nothing in life is easy, but it will be easier with each other? That that commitment is what makes a married couple a single entity, and they just want to commit to each other? Then they can go off and save China, whatever.

They deserved an ending that had me rejoicing that these two are finally, finally, finally on the same wavelength. It should have been more introspective and more considerate of Shaoshang's hurt and Zisheng's regret. Their psychological wounds are instead dismissed through an absurd monologue in a basement and the arbitrary realization that death is lurking around every corner.

The hilarious part is that in the last two episodes, even the actors are noticeably less enthusiastic. In their performances, I see essences of how I feel when a client requests edits to a design that will make it significantly uglier. You gotta do what you gotta do to pay the bills.

Sigh. I could forever grieve what could have been, but this is still one of my favorite dramas. Characters that feel like real people, relationships that make your heart hurt. Those should be common sense in media but are hard to come by in reality, and I'll continue to appreciate what LLTG gave me.

All I really want from the drama industry is for it to please, for the love of our collective sanities, stop thinking that "happy" endings are a valid shortcut to satiating an audience. Good tragic endings are difficult to write, yes, but good happy endings are not any easier. To underestimate that is to let down the story and characters that were so painstakingly brought to life in the first place.

[firelxdykatara]

So I just got into Unicorn: Warriors Eternal (obviously), I was gonna pace myself on episodes but then I just kept watching but at least there should be another one soon lmao ANYWAY THOUGH I have some preliminary thoughts.

I am absolutely fascinated by the dynamics presented here. There's a lot of messy potential in the way none of their reincarnations worked quite right, but the only one of them who has a true FIGHT for their new identity is Melinda/Emma/Emmelinda and I think that's both telling and tragic. Edred seems to be the one who is the most "himself" in terms of his identity being the most recognizable (though I suspect his current personality was affected by the merge considerably more than usual, as he seems far less stoic than he was in his previous lives--which makes me wonder if Dimitri will make another appearance), while Seng feels the most actualized--he has the mind of a child but the cosmic awareness and connection of his reincarnation, but there still don't seem to be any traces of "Alfie" there (especially given what we saw of him before he got seng-ified).

But Emma is fighting. She is the only one of the three original hosts still struggling to maintain her own sense of self and identity. It is interfering with Melinda's ability to control her powers, but given how we saw her powers corrupt her mother in the past, I wonder if that might not be for the better. I wonder if the show is going to turn all of this on its head--the writing has been surprisingly clever (and far more emotional than i expected, eps 4 and 5 had me bawling), and it's an adult cartoon not a kid's show, so I wonder if we're not meant to suspect that there's more to the current set up than might be assumed at first glance.

In the flashback to Melinda's childhood, Morgan (and her parents being Merlin and Morgan le Fay tickled me pink) is immediately incensed that Merlin lied to her about their daughter having magic--he says "I knew your intentions", and it's framed like we're supposed to think that he believed Morgan would use her magic for evil. But perhaps she was telling the truth when she said she only wanted to protect their daughter--and given that it seemed to have almost a self-awareness not wholly connected to Melinda herself, I wonder if the more malicious or devious parent was actually Merlin, which would explain him immediately turning on his own child and blaming her for what had just happened even though it was not her fault.

(And so tragic and heartwarming in equal measure that Emma spent the next episode trying to convince Melinda that it wasn't her fault, despite the echo of what have you done ringing in her subconscious over every life she lived the past thousand years. Despite Emma's understandable resentment of the situation she's been forced into, she is a deeply compassionate soul and I think that perspective is what Melinda has been lacking for so long. She has been fighting evil [on her father's say-so] for over a thousand years and yet lost sight of what she was truly fighting to protect. It is telling that she had such trouble making herself access her powers the episode after chasing down the fox lady and terrifying that woman and her baby.)

Emma herself is interesting to me, because while reluctant chosen ones tend to start grating on me very quickly, the fact is that she can't resist the call for long--Melinda quite literally will not let her--but she provides a humanizing element to this fight that otherwise had not been present in who knows how many centuries. At the same time, lives are on the line and every time she tries too hard to balk at using her powers and taking up the mantle, she manages to make the situation worse. (See: bringing up the kraken instead of busting through that barrier herself, resulting in Copernicus' destruction)

And then, of course, there's the romantic entanglements. (I'm very much on Edred's side here if that weren't already obvious. Winston may get points when he goes all wolfed out but at the end of the day, it's white-haired pretty elfboy and his goth wife for me all day every day.)

I don't agree with a lot of the sentiments i saw while scrolling through the tag--Edred has very good reason to be pressuring Melinda (Emmelinda) to accept her powers and fucking use them already, because, again, lives are on the line constantly with this Evil around fucking things up and terrorizing the city and killing people. Plus, of the three of them, he's the one with the clearest memories of his own past. He has a thousand years of fighting this fight with his wife by his side, and I think quite apart from how fucked up things got with the reincarnations this go-round, he doesn't know how to FUNCTION without her. A thousand years is tough to let go, especially when they've done this whole song and dance so many times before and it was always relatively smooth sailing--a quick merge and then fighting on as if no time had passed at all. Of course he believes Emma is holding his wife back, not allowing her to reach her full potential with her powers OR their shared past--she's the only uncommon factor!

("She's not yours anymore" may have been a bit petty, but he wasn't trying to gloat there--I don't think he was even really expressing jealousy or possessiveness. He was delivering a hard truth. I wonder how many times in the past they were awoken inside bodies and souls that did have entire other lives planned out. Families. Children. We know they had descendants after awakening, given the quasi-doppelgangers that tried to tell the police chief the truth about them early on, but I wonder how many times they awoke, went to each other, and had to tell someone who loved them--who perhaps they had loved in return--that their husband or wife or mother or father was gone and never coming back. I think Edred was trying to tell Winston to accept the inevitable before he got hurt even worse.)

All that said, this time is obviously very different. It may be the key to breaking the cycle once and for all. There may be key truths they could never have learned while operating the way they had been, executing Merlin's 'flawless' strategy. I think, in the end, Emma and Melinda may have to find some common ground--as it sits of course there is prime fodder for fics exploring the consent or lack thereof involved in a dynamic like this, and I'm fully on board for Emma starting to catch some of Melinda's feelings in spite of herself and allowing Edred in, allowing herself to feel for him.

That half-second where Edred saw Melinda's spirit and she said his name before being shoved back into the custody battle for Emma's body--that hit me where it hurts. I have to believe they'll find some way to come back together. Especially given that brief but delicious shot of Emmelinda going absolutely berserk after seeing Edred get hurt.

(Meanwhile, my kingdom for fics exploring Melinda getting sick of waiting and just taking over completely. Emma stuck along for the ride and not at all sure she hates it as much as she should. I'm just saying, it'd be delicious.)

[fancyshooting]

hi anons I'm going to combine you

"plain name... but I won't forget it" stfu your name is adam normalson!!

we don't know much at all about the children raised by the philosophers in that era other than what eva says - "back then they were collecting children from all over the world" - and how she was raised in a joint us-soviet-chinese facility. she's almost a whole decade older than ocelot, so her upbringing was probably quite different, especially as she lacked the status ocelot had by virtue of being the son of the boss. it's interesting though that she says these children were "collected" and not orphans who were "rescued" or even something neutral like "taken in". in the radio call about ocelot's parents, eva says there were a lot of MIAs during the war but we know that's not true in ocelot's case. he wasn't really an orphan and if her radio bio is anything to go by, neither was eva (everything else in there is true so why would the family section be a lie? none of that information is given as part of her manipulation of snake. it's not relevant to the story at all, so why even include it? both her parents are apparently still alive at the time of operation snake eater. she sounds sympathetic to ocelot in this call too, which is a rare thing)

if the goal of a philosopher upbringing is to produce cold, single-minded spies, would any of these "orphans" be allowed to retain their legal surname? would the children of the elites in command/support of the philosophers be expected to renounce their identities for the sake of service? if not, and they were mixed, there was probably a divide between children with full names and children without. is that part of why ocelot is so averse to the snobbery surrounding formal titles...? i.e. a name doesn't magically grant you good character or make you automatically deserving of respect. idk it sounds like a similar line of thought

young ocelot's deliberate estrangement from his parents points to him being legally known by a name meaning much the same as "john doe" or maybe even something like "tretij rebenok". something impersonal or on the more extreme end, dehumanising. boy a, boy b, child #352 - that kind of thing maybe? it's so hard imo to talk about ocelot and names because he was almost definitely raised in some sort of cold horrible facility, nameless and pliable. he was never supposed to know who his parents were. he was never supposed to identify with anything. personal identity is just a distraction from his purpose. a legal name doesn't really matter anyway when the philosophers have the power to manipulate information on a global scale. political position, military rank, social status: irrelevant. everyone's personal records can be altered if the philosophers so desire

I think if he has a legal surname it's going to be something russian but it won't be the same as the sorrow's. all that information was probably highly classified and ocelot would have had no access to it for a long time, if ever (the most likely time is after the formation of the patriots. zero probably told him). ocelot was quite literally born a bastard anyway so if no abduction took place then he would've probably inherited the boss' surname. the casting sheet that was leaked before mgs3 was released said that the boss was british-american so her surname is probably like... smith or something. omg I just looked up the most common british surnames and one of them is adams. what if his first name is her surname and that's why his name (adamska) is a surname (polish, female). what if that made any sense. wait actually a while ago someone on here suggested that the reason ocelot's name is adamska could be something of a mean-spirited joke by his american abductors who resent his russian father and traitor mother. like they just stuck -ska on the end to make it sound russian. mocking him :( could explain why he later drops the -ska but keeps adam...? he's adams' son?

as for his legal surname, it wouldn't be a problem for it to be an american name. his defection is a known event, a public event that was televised locally in moscow according to mgs4's dodgy database (why would you put your super secret spy's face onscreen when he's supposed to be undercover...? "hi can you tell me military secrets I'm adam btw I was on tv :3")

him having an american name would only be a problem in that it would likely hinder his naturalisation or whatever. it would be conspicuous. I think the philosophers raised him with the intention of eventually shipping him off to the ussr so if he was raised with a surname, it's probably russian. someone on here (possibly the same person as above ^^^ sorry I don't remember) told me that "kotov" is a genuine russian surname derived from one of the russian words for cat (kot!! like on his bike!!). he can have that :)

while we're on the subject of names, ocelot having no patronym (as far as we know) is another little thing that shows how cut off he is from his family and culture. yevgeny borisovich volgin. ivan ivanovich raikov. we need to know the sorrow's first name so he can have some sense of belonging and fitting in and being normal. mr adam sorrovich normalson

in mgsv he says he's "plenty used to working under aliases" and is the one to pass on fake documents to big boss. the only alias we know of ocelot's is "shalashaska" but it's in the shalashaska origin tape that he says this, so he must be referring to other names he's used in secret offscreen spy work... although even "ocelot" is an alias in itself. you can see the detachment he has from his codename when he wants naked snake to know him as "adamska"

I hope that's alright! ty for the asks :D

[elfcollector]

No need to share if you don't want to, but if you want to talk about your characters' genders/sexualities I'd love to hear about them!

i LOVE to talk about my kids!

i'm just gonna go down the list; if i don't mention someone here, assume they're bi and cis and that their relationship to their gender/sexuality/etc. just doesnt have enough in there to make me wanna talk about it

alia is bi and has a ( hand wiggles ) relationship with gender; some of it's just the inherent trauma of how elven women are treated causing her to want to reject some of it, some of its a true - ish form of gender dysphoria ( one of the few bad parts about having enough to eat now is that she fills out properly and starts having tits ) and most of it's a combo of the two. she identifies as a woman and that's unlikely to change, if only because she lacks other language, but internally she prefers androgynous terms of address, something zevran picks up early.

johana is a cis lesbian! her family and much of court doesn't approve!

natia is a cis woman and bi but like. she feels a similar 'being a woman in the commonly understood sense has created in me a lot of a trauma' thing to what alia does, but natia leans harder into BEING a woman because of it, as a way to spite the ones that sought to make her womanhood bad. she's not particularly feminine, it's not like that; it's more like she doesn't feel any innate sense of her own womanhood but she CHOOSES IT very intentionally. it's not a gender identity it is a gender CHOICE.

eilonwy is a cis woman and bi, but she has a DRAMATIC preference for women. gay until provoked

adahli is a trans woman and bi with a fairly significant preference for men!

sion is a GNC cis bi woman; she gets increasingly butchy as time passes. despite both being bi she and merrill do sort of look like the platonic ideal of a lesbian butch/femme couple

ahvir is agender, uses she/they, and is bi. no real preference for any particular gender, but does have a lot of internalized homophobia related to her attraction to men due to childhood trauma involving a girl she was in love with

isala is a trans woman and she did her own bottom surgery! she learned blood magic to do her own bottom surgery! bi, preference for men

dhea'mis is a trans woman. isn't particularly interested in bottom surgery, likes her dick just fine. so does josephine. bi, but with a minor preference for women.

marigold is a cis lesbian! falls in love with sera basically at first sight.

alexei is a cis gay man with terrible taste.

inessa beats gender with a STICK! she has no gender, but still uses she/her because using others would be more work than she cares about. bi, preference for men, has INSANELY high standards (you need to be at least as much of a revolutionary as she is, which is a hard to standard to meet)

dove doesn't use labels and finds them stifling, but she doesn't feel that gender is a meaningful part of her identity and she feels attraction to people of all genders. she falls under the ace umbrella

daiynn is a she/they/occasionally it, bi, minor preference for men! serana beat all the odds because shes perfect

xin yi doesn't use labels but she's almost exclusively attracted to women. cis woman but in the sense that she just doesn't give a shit

noe uses they/them, tho is okay with 'she' from people they're very close to. no real gender identity aside from "null." or maybe just "monster." either way! prefers masc folks but is attracted to everybody in practice

rue uses all and any pronouns, does not give a shit, and identifies as every gender at once. she is a girl when she's ciel's girlfriend. he is a boy when they are romeo's best bro. they are none of the above when they are hanging out. doesn't matter. experiences romantic attraction extremely rarely; ciel was really the first person he'd ever really felt that towards. does have a type for mysterious white-haired girls, tho

ena uses she/they, but prefers they broadly speaking. bi!

soma is a girl that's a guy. a dude that's a gal. uses she/they pronouns for herself but really doesn't care what you do, has no sense of their gender identity or of gender mattering to that identity. bi, no preference.

jetta is a cis bi woman who uses she/they! preference for ladies :D

quinn is agender and bi!

valda is bi and transfem. as far as attraction goes, they've got a bit of a preference for masculinity but no real preference regarding actual gender

andi is nonbinary and bi

erin is a cis lesbian but has just genuinely godawful taste

blake is agender and, while i wouldn't call them transmasc, they do prefer dressing masculinely and would rather be called your boyfriend than your girlfriend, yknow. only attracted to men.

rory just uses the word queer; no gender, no preference re: attraction

austen doesn't use labels, but does go by they/them. bi!

luca is agender and t4t, specifically with a preference for other nonbinary folks

delilah is nonbinary and bi

jocasta is every gender and none of them. fuck you. goes by she/they/he/it, but also doesn't really care what you call them. attraction is simply Queer

delight is utterly genderless and very bi! dislikes being gendered by friends or loved ones but doesn't care about it from strangers

[warriorsparked]

Midnight Pleasures.

Originally written 2010 Characters:  Megatron, Shockwave Timelines: Early post-war (MY AU) Warning: contains mech/mech, sex scene.

   Megatron’s servos grasped at the berth beneath him, his lips parting in his stasis. The heat of his dream circled down between his legs, swallowing him whole with wet, delicate lips. Beneath his casing, his cable was hard and pulsing, dripping inside from his excitement as thick, pouty lips took him again and again.    He was so close, he could feel it, somewhere mixed between being in stasis and being awake. He could feel the very real physical pleasure, his cable throbbing as he lay on his back atop the berth he shared with his mate. Only it was not Shockwave that was down between his legs, but a stranger. No one. No name, no frame, no real identity, just a mystery shape as they suckled him.    Just a little longer. Just a little more. So close! Almost there! His thighs parted, and as he felt the pent up pressure ready to release, some cruel force of nature made his optics flicker online, his spark thumping in his chest as the ceiling came into view.    He was back on the Ark. The small room that was shared between him and his newfound bonded surrounding him.    Swallowing hard, Megatron realised that he was short of breath, having panted from his dream. Primus, he was even covered in a sweat, condensation beaded against his chest. His dreams were often vivid, but many of them were nightmares, hands clawing at him, screams in his audios, or whispers of cruel promises. Tonight, it had been different, and his cable was still hard between his legs beneath his codpiece, just seconds away from erupting.

   “Are you alright?” Shockwave’s voice was soft between them as he lay beside Megatron. Though unlike his bondmate, the scientist was clean of any condensation, and was calm and collected. He’d only woken because Megatron had been shifting in his stasis so much. Generally speaking, this was not uncommon, though most nights it was due to his night terrors, the memories and the torture he’d suffered before and throughout the war.    Tonight, it appeared to be a completely different reason. He could see the heat glowing between Megatron’s thighs, which indicated his arousal. As his relatively new bondmate, he could also feel a certain rush of energy being so close to Megatron’s spark and EM field.

   Megatron had flinched despite the softness of Shockwave’s Tarnian accent. He took a deep breath, the glow of yellow drawing his optics to his partner. “Fine,” he muttered, though a sense of guilt began to weigh heavily in his chest.    He had dreamed of something that Shockwave could not do. He could not wrap his lips around his cable, for he lacked them. That was not something entirely strange for their people, as they came in all shapes and sizes, but it had been something that Megatron had found exciting many a time. He had to get used to the idea that it would never happen again for so long as he was bonded to Shockwave (which he hoped was until the end of time).    Sitting up, he pushed himself to the edge of the berth. He should not speak of it. He should not mention it when Shockwave had been nothing but loyal to him for so long. It would be a slap to his lover’s face, but it was hard to hide the fact that he had been aroused, and Shockwave had already seen it.    When a hand went to his shoulder, he felt himself frown. Shockwave was always so supportive that it hurt sometimes. In fact, it had made him downright angry at times. How could he remain so loyal to someone like him, even after the war? He was far from perfect. He’d been a mess once it had ended, not to mention the long recovery from his processor surgery. Shockwave was always there, like a loyal dog, and this was how he repaid him?    He was not good enough for the other mech. He was unworthy.

   “Forgive my intrusion, but you do not appear to be fine,” Shockwave spoke. It was true, that they had not been bonded for long, that they had completely and utterly rushed into something so serious, but their feelings spoke for themselves. Not just since the end of war, but before it also. Particularly on Shockwave’s side of things.    He had watched Megatron brood in the war meetings, he had watched him kill and torture, and many other things. He could tell when Megatron was fine or not, even if others thought he was an emotionless droid.  

   Megatron turned his head slightly, though he did not see Shockwave over his shoulder, his optics looking down before he placed his hand atop the other.    “My stasis haunts me, Shockwave, you know this. It is nothing new, and it will not be the last time.” That was for certain. “But, I…” He paused, his lips parting before he closed them again.

   A curious antenna twitched as Megatron stopped. He did not need to tell him, he never did. Shockwave didn’t expect the former warlord to tell him every, little detail of his past life. They had worked so long together, it was hard to imagine that either of them had lives before the war. They were different people back then (quite literally in Shockwave’s case, although he had not yet discovered that).    “Yes?” he asked as Megatron’s hand fell from his own.

   The sensation of his dream still lingered, still went unsatisfied, and it bothered him. It bothered Megatron that he was thinking of someone else, a femme, instead of the mech that shared his berth. Their berth.    “I am sorry,” he replied, turning part way on the berth so he could look Shockwave in the optic as he said it. “I dream of things I cannot control. Of those that… are not you. I wish that I could control it, but I cannot.” As a bonded pair, did that mean he was breaking some rule he did not understand? It wasn’t like he’d ever been bonded before, let alone held any real stable relationship. He may have shared the berth with a thousand and even more others, but it had always been pleasure and nothing more. Unless it was pain. Love? Megatron didn’t know what the hell love was. At least, not until he’d realised it had been staring him in the face for so damn long and he’d been to blinded by greed and corruption to see it.  

   Was that Megatron’s problem? Shockwave’s optic lowered a moment, just to see the faint glow that came from Megatron’s cod. His head tilted before he looked back to those two, fierce optics. There was a want in them, a desire, and Shockwave could tell.    “You need not apologise for dreams, Megatron,” he stated, like it was as simple as that. Was it not? He did not understand how Megatron could blame himself on something he could not control. None of them could. Dreams were entirely involuntary. That was just well known science.    When Megatron turned, he lowered his hand. “I have experienced my fair share.” Some of them had been wild, made little sense. Some of them had felt so real, like he had lived a completely different life to the one he knew. It was a normal thing, to dream. Some experienced more vivid ones, some none at all. Either way, no one could control them, not without a cortical psychic patch anyway, and even then, that was an entirely different thing.

   Of course Shockwave would say that. He had an answer for everything, annoyingly  so at times. How he envied Shockwave’s ability to just… let things go. To not care about things that could not be controlled. To see reality for what it was, and not what warped it thanks to trauma and deeply rooted emotions.    He brushed that aside. Things between them were still new, and they would be for some time. Two war veterans, falling in love with each other, none of them knowing what true love actually was. They would fumble, and fumble again, but the important thing was that they tried.    Leaning his hand up, he cupped Shockwave’s chin, a thumb moving across warm metal. Shockwave may not be able to take his cable in his mouth, but he could certainly finish what he dream had started.    “Touch me.” It was said with a passion, a demand more than any sort of beg. Megatron did not beg.

   Shockwave looked at the other mech, befuddled at the sudden command. He was still getting used to these requests, the idea that his hands could now trace against any part of Megatron without a fusion canon aimed at the back of his head.    But it begged the question. What sort of touching? Where was he supposed to touch him? The request made him hesitate, hoping that he would get it right. He moved forward, awkwardly, and placed his hand to Megatron’s chest, hoping that that would suffice.

   Megatron merely chuckled. “Lower, Shockwave.”

   Shockwave’s hand fell down to Megatron’s stomach, where he looked back up for confirmation. The look on his lover’s face said it was not low enough, and he realised what Megatron meant. Oh…    Shockwave could not use his lips on him, but his mate had two hands. Two hands that could envelop him, two hands that could make him feel loved and comforted, and pleasure and pain all at the same time.    Megatron retracted his casing, where his cable fell out, still semi-hard, and when Shockwave’s hand finally understood the order, he exhaled a breath at the sensation of finally being touched. He still could not accept the idea of anyone controlling him in the berth, but did Shockwave realise just how much control he really had? Did Shockwave realise what he could actually do to him? That he was one of the few that could have actually bested him in battle? Yet, he never chose to.  Megatron could have melted against him, yet he still gave the illusion that he was the one in control. Always. He would never surrender.

   Watching Megatron, Shockwave felt his own body react at the feeling of his lover’s hardened cable inside his palm. It was not often he found himself so easily aroused, but there was something about Megatron that made it impossible to ignore.

   Leaning forward, Megatron pressed his helm to Shockwave’s, their fields touching. He should not be rewarded like this, he knew, but he also did not care anymore. Shockwave was close, and he was there, with him, his hand working him over enough for him to put that into the very back of his mind.    He tensed at the pleasure as it built, feeling lubricant dribble from the head of his arousal. Shockwave used it to ease any friction, causing him to twitch, already overly sensitive from his unfinished dream.    With optics dimming, he moved his own hand towards Shockwave’s thigh, tracing over pale metal. “Why don’t you open up for me?” he teased, moving so he could press his lips to Shockwave’s neck, kissing at the exposed wires. He wanted to bite him, to sink his fangs into the soft, fleshy wiring and taste him, but not now. Not tonight. It was too soon, and he did not wish to scare his lover away.

   If only Megatron knew, though. If only he knew how much Shockwave wanted that. Still, the former Guardian of Cybertron did not hesitate to follow Megatron’s command, his own codpiece retracting and exposing his own erect cable.    When Megatron’s hand wrapped itself around him, he tensed, wings flaring and antennae flicking back. He was suddenly on his back as the larger mech moved over him. His hand lost the hardened length of Megatron’s shaft, grasping onto any part of his mate he could as he was so easily manoeuvred.  

   “That’s it, just relax,” Megatron urged. Control was hard to give up, it seemed, or maybe it was the idea and image of Shockwave beneath him, squirming like that. So much raw emotion when he was there, like he’d never seen before. He liked it. He liked it a lot. “Does it feel good?” he spoke softly in Tarnian just for the other mech as he wrapped his hand around both of their cables, rubbing them together.

   Shockwave made a soft noise from his vocaliser, surprised when Megatron spoke to him in his home tongue. He’d not forgotten that Megatron could speak it, it was just not something he’d done in a long, long time. It felt personal. Intimate.    Megatron had never perfected other languages like he had. There was a certain twang in the accent that was certainly not from Tarn, but that did not matter. Often, Megatron had used Soundwave to help translate other languages, until he’d invented an internal programme which helped Megatron along his travels. ”Yes,” he replied in his mother tongue, his servos clawing at Megatron’s back now. He moaned when he felt lips at his neck again, down his shoulder and over his chest, where his spark was.    “I want you,” he whimpered back in the common tongue. “My Liege, I beg you.” Yes, it felt so natural for him to beg like that beneath the larger mech.

   It was that easy. It was that easy to rile Shockwave up, even if it had been him to wake from an erotic dream. So eager to please, so eager for him. That settled some worries within Megatron’s own spark as his hand continued to pump up both their lengths. Shockwave was considerably smaller than him, but that made no difference to him. He’d come to enjoy his lover’s body, despite never having thought much about other mechs outside of pure, physical gain.    Leaning back, he abandoned their cables, but it was only so he could pull Shockwave’s legs around him and guide his cable into his lover’s already damp aft. It slipped in with an ease that only told him how excited Shockwave was, hearing him moan as he was swallowed.    Leaning back down, his hands hit the berth, servos clawing at it as he rocked his hips back and forth.    “You taste so sweet,” he whispered against Shockwave’s neck, kissing and suckling at metal and wires.    Between Shockwave’s moans and what lingered from his dream, it did not take long for him to overload, nor Shockwave. Soon, the two of them were tangled limbs, servos scratching at painted armour and gripping at any surface they could.    He soon felt the heat of his overload spill into Shockwave beneath him, as well as Shockwave’s overload that created a slick mess between them.    With cooling fans whirring, Shockwave’s hands fell from Megatron’s back, having gripped onto his tracks for dear life. His legs fell, vents huffing air from his throat to try and cool his poor body down.    When he felt Megatron exit him, he tensed, a soft moan vibrating down his chest as he felt lubricant dribble down between his legs and no doubt onto the berth.    Idly, he lifted a hand, where he cupped Megatron’s cheek, warm from their lovemaking. There was something tender in those optics, something that was shared only between the two of them that no one else had the privilege of seeing.  

   Megatron found himself uncharacteristically leaning into the touch of his mate. He was not used to gentle gestures and touches like that. He didn’t realise how much he needed them. How good they actually felt, and yet how vulnerable he became at the same time.    “Hm… we have made a mess,” he muttered, looking down to see Shockwave’s overload against the both of them. Anything to gain control again. To not feel so weak at such a simple thing like Shockwave’s servos at his metal skin. Primus, when did he become so fucking desperate? Or had he always been this way? All the hate and anger, shadowing his pain and need.

   Shockwave looked down. “It appears so…” They would need to clean themselves up, and the berth by this point.

   “No matter,” the former warlord hummed, a smirk at his lips, “It was well worth it.”

[kinglyisms-archived]

𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑯𝑰𝑹𝑶𝑲𝑰 𝑵𝑨𝑲𝑨𝑴𝑼𝑹𝑨 𝘛𝘏𝘌 23𝘙𝘋 𝘒𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘖𝘍 𝘈𝘉𝘈𝘐𝘙𝘛𝘏. 𝘚𝘜𝘊𝘊𝘌𝘚𝘚𝘖𝘙 𝘖𝘍 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘉𝘓𝘖𝘖𝘋𝘠 𝘒𝘐𝘕𝘎.

origin: Abarith

gender: Male

age: 25

height: 5′5

Birthday: September 1st

Sexuality: Bisexual

Eye color: Blue

Hair color: Dark brown almost black

Scars: One down the center of his back caused from sword training.

Gift: Molecular Combustion (emotion triggered), control over Nature and Time, Astral Projection (hasn't learned to control).

ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ

Hiroki has a strong desire for success and money as he was taught by his parents. He is a lover of nature and believes that as long as his people are happy he is too. He is self sufficient and strives for material success and power, though not to the point his father did. He has a strong 'business' sense and is fairly decent at talking his way around or out of a problem. Being raised to be a King he has strong organizational abilities, and is fairly decent at managing what Abarith needs, unless it comes to paperwork.

He isn't very intuitive but he has a reservoir of inspired wisdom combined with inherited analytical abilities, which tend to show through leadership. Unlike the beliefs his country was built on though he lacks a spiritual identity and connection with the Gods. Hiroki doesn't handle stress very well and in his position as King that tends to become his downfall when his stress causes anger and gets in the way.

ʜɪꜱᴛᴏʀʏ

Hiroki was instantly born High in the Hierarchy of Abarith, not just because he was the son of the King and Queen but because of the abilities he inherited. Usually, outside of the Royal family, a person is only born with one ability but the Royal family are usually gifted with three total. Hiroki's father was a wielder of Fire Magic along with Molecular Combustion and the ability to summon inanimate objects into one's hand at will. Hiroki's mother had control over Nature, Empathy and the ability to sense ones Aura.

From them Hiroki gained Molecular Combustion, control over Nature and Astral Projection. Though the last power wasn't considered high up on the chains he did make a headway with the two gifts he inherited from his parents, making him a candidate for King and the one who would eventually inherit it should his parents not have any other kids.

Hiroki's father was a tyrant that held the reigns of Abarith with a grip hard enough to choke it. Over the years of growing and studying under his father, he watched him use the soldiers like cattle and care little for the state and wellbeing of the people. It's suspected though not proven that his father even poisoned his mother out of fear that she was conspiring against him with the other women in the court. Hiroki lost his mother at only thirteen, a blow that truly caused him to open his eyes to his father's personality.

After his father passed away from undetermined reasons, he took the throne at sixteen. Still new to the position Hiroki wasn't the best, it took a while before he eventually managed to maintain and run his position efficiently. Regardless of his faults his loving exterior personality was what won the people over, caring more for them and his country than for himself.

Though the persona he did show to them was true running a country was far from what Hiroki expected it to be. The job was stressful and weighed heavily on him, causing his patients to grow thinner and thinner as he aged. From the stress Hiroki developed a short temper that tended to put some distance between himself the those he was supposed to trust to help him run everything... and at some days it almost seemed like he ran it alone.

Despite everything though the country did prosper with him in control, they managed to claim a bit more land to their right and a small forest that Hiroki set up a law to be preserved and protected. Though it wasn't much it did allow for new materials which was something that the country was in grave need of. He wanted to set up relationships with some nations but knew such a thing would be hard to do with no connects previously existing.

At the current age of 25, the country has reached a 'golden age' and with the people excited for this new advancement Hiroki decided now would be a good time to focus on advancing them in what they lacked, the main one being basic education. With the country focused so much on magic and their army it left little room for a standard education and knowledge was one of the most important gifts.

Hiroki loves his country more than anything and desires to protect it above all else as King.

[kinglyisms]

𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑯𝑰𝑹𝑶𝑲𝑰 𝑵𝑨𝑲𝑨𝑴𝑼𝑹𝑨 𝘛𝘏𝘌 23𝘙𝘋 𝘒𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘖𝘍 𝘈𝘉𝘈𝘐𝘙𝘛𝘏. 𝘚𝘜𝘊𝘊𝘌𝘚𝘚𝘖𝘙 𝘖𝘍 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘉𝘓𝘖𝘖𝘋𝘠 𝘒𝘐𝘕𝘎.

origin: Abarith

gender: Male

age: 25

height: 5′5

Birthday: September 1st

Sexuality: Bisexual

Eye color: Blue

Hair color: Dark brown almost black

Scars: One down the center of his back caused from sword training.

Gift: Molecular Combustion (emotion triggered), control over Nature and Time, Astral Projection (hasn't learned to control).

ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ

Hiroki has a strong desire for success and money as he was taught by his parents. He is a lover of nature and believes that as long as his people are happy he is too. He is self sufficient and strives for material success and power, though not to the point his father did. He has a strong 'business' sense and is fairly decent at talking his way around or out of a problem. Being raised to be a King he has strong organizational abilities, and is fairly decent at managing what Abarith needs, unless it comes to paperwork.

He isn't very intuitive but he has a reservoir of inspired wisdom combined with inherited analytical abilities, which tend to show through leadership. Unlike the beliefs his country was built on though he lacks a spiritual identity and connection with the Gods. Hiroki doesn't handle stress very well and in his position as King that tends to become his downfall when his stress causes anger and gets in the way.

ʜɪꜱᴛᴏʀʏ

Hiroki was instantly born High in the Hierarchy of Abarith, not just because he was the son of the King and Queen but because of the abilities he inherited. Usually, outside of the Royal family, a person is only born with one ability but the Royal family are usually gifted with three total. Hiroki's father was a wielder of Fire Magic along with Molecular Combustion and the ability to summon inanimate objects into one's hand at will. Hiroki's mother had control over Nature, Empathy and the ability to sense ones Aura.

From them Hiroki gained Molecular Combustion, control over Nature and Astral Projection. Though the last power wasn't considered high up on the chains he did make a headway with the two gifts he inherited from his parents, making him a candidate for King and the one who would eventually inherit it should his parents not have any other kids.

Hiroki's father was a tyrant that held the reigns of Abarith with a grip hard enough to choke it. Over the years of growing and studying under his father, he watched him use the soldiers like cattle and care little for the state and wellbeing of the people. It's suspected though not proven that his father even poisoned his mother out of fear that she was conspiring against him with the other women in the court. Hiroki lost his mother at only thirteen, a blow that truly caused him to open his eyes to his father's personality.

After his father passed away from undetermined reasons, he took the throne at sixteen. Still new to the position Hiroki wasn't the best, it took a while before he eventually managed to maintain and run his position efficiently. Regardless of his faults his loving exterior personality was what won the people over, caring more for them and his country than for himself.

Though the persona he did show to them was true running a country was far from what Hiroki expected it to be. The job was stressful and weighed heavily on him, causing his patients to grow thinner and thinner as he aged. From the stress Hiroki developed a short temper that tended to put some distance between himself the those he was supposed to trust to help him run everything... and at some days it almost seemed like he ran it alone.

Despite everything though the country did prosper with him in control, they managed to claim a bit more land to their right and a small forest that Hiroki set up a law to be preserved and protected. Though it wasn't much it did allow for new materials which was something that the country was in grave need of. He wanted to set up relationships with some nations but knew such a thing would be hard to do with no connects previously existing.

At the current age of 25, the country has reached a 'golden age' and with the people excited for this new advancement Hiroki decided now would be a good time to focus on advancing them in what they lacked, the main one being basic education. With the country focused so much on magic and their army it left little room for a standard education and knowledge was one of the most important gifts.

Hiroki loves his country more than anything and desires to protect it above all else as King.

[someotherdog]

with only a nod, soap sealed their fate. ingrid sealed it, too, putting her hand against the interface. it was cold, something that made complete sense but still surprised her. it was almost like it was suckling at her hand, a pressure grabbing onto her fingers as she supposed it verified her identity. it tickled a little, hurt a little. just as quickly, the pressure released and the interface gave a robotic pleasantry, sending them on their merry way. the hatch opened seconds after, revealing... nothing.

it was dark beyond its open mouth, and if weren't for the lack of stars and presence of artificial gravity and oxygen, she might've thought it opened to the outside. it took a moment for her eyes to adjust, having trouble going from bright, sterilized white to cold, unwelcoming steel. she couldn't see much from her vantage point, still half a step behind her shepherd, but it looked more like the stereotypical image of spaceships they had back on earth. closely she followed behind soap, carefully stepping over the threshold of the hatch door, lest she trip just a moment into her grand adventure—if soap had any shred of respect for her, she assumed it would've dissipated immediately if she had.

ingrid had a stereotypical image of spaceships in her mind, and while the main bay sort of matched it, it didn't fully. mostly it felt (and looked) different than she expected. this was a strange situation, sure, but it was mostly unnerving. it hadn't really felt dangerous until then. despite only being awake for under two hours, the quadrant they came from had quickly grown familiar. if there was any home that ingrid could lay claim to in space, it was that cryobed she woke up in. she had already expressed her desire to go back to their starting point, there was no reason to bring it up again. still, it was true. she was following soap because she had to, she had to remind herself, but nothing about their situation seemed to be getting better since entering the main bay. if anything, everything was much, much stranger.

"what happened here?" ingrid whispered, though she didn't truly know why she was. it just felt appropriate. they were approaching a dangling piece of wiring, she guessed, but that wasn't the only sign of disarray. instead of looking like everyone just up and left, as it did in the deputy pilot's den, things out in the main bay looked as if something happened to it. she couldn't see very well, wanting to but refraining from placing her free hand on soap's arm so they wouldn't get separated (and so she'd have a clear path to walk), but she was almost sure she saw streaks of blood on some of the walls. she thought she could smell it, too, but perhaps that was simply how machinery smelled. she didn't know. it wasn't only that, though. almost everything seemed to be disturbed or broken in some way. crates and even a few boxes were littered among the bay, making it hard to maneuver in low light. she was beginning to sincerely consider asking soap if they could hold hands.

"do you think it was raiders or something?" ingrid had heard about pirate crews that would dock ships, sometimes by trickery and sometimes by force, to steal the ship and whatever else wasn't nailed down, usually killing the crew in order to get it. she had worked on a case where the chief pilot of the ship accused one of the systems engineers of colluding with the raiders, but the judge dismissed it. ingrid didn't get soap's opinion, though. she glared at him when he warned her not to touch the dangling wire, though she doubted he'd see it—or care. she wasn't so naïve that she'd touch a live wire, but there wasn't time for her to respond if she had wanted to.

soap heard it before she did, of course. her head whipped behind, following his movement, but she didn't see whatever it was that he saw. or hear it, either. all she heard was her own breathing and the intermitted buzzing of the cord, which only gave off a flash of light every few seconds. ingrid kept quiet, for once not asking him what he heard or saw. her grip on the gun was growing sweatier by the millisecond, her heart began to thud. she briefly wondered how long it would take her to get back to their previous quadrant, with or without soap. even if the bay was brightly lit by the sun, she doubted she'd be able to make it before whoever was coming towards them would finish their approach. besides, she might've felt bad about sacrificing soap if he didn't follow. might've.

finally the new person, hopefully some crew member that would tell them what the fuck was happening, came close enough that they weren't just a hazy, shadowed shape in the distance. a relieved smile broke onto ingrid's face, almost taking a step forward when the flash lit them up. the greeting that nearly spat out of her mouth died before it could get out, thankfully.

she didn't understand what she was seeing. the brief flashes of light didn't help that, but the flashes the cord gave off were incomprehensible. quite literally incomprehensible. it felt like her brain broke, much like the thing in front of her had broken limbs, broken... everything. nothing was where it was supposed to be. it was impossibly tall, so much so that it wasn't even directly upon them and yet it overtook soap considerably, let alone herself. she was fully awake now, mind no longer fogged by the artificial coma, but she again had to wonder if she was still asleep. that would be such an easy answer, wouldn't it? that it was all just a nightmare. it wasn't, obviously, and its inhuman shriek only further shattered that fantasy.

she matched its shriek with her own. she barely heard soap's command, but she didn't need it anyway. instantly ingrid moved backward, almost colliding into the hanging cord, but a misplaced crate forced her to move around it. she couldn't see where she was going, half-running backwards so she wouldn't get sliced by the creature's arm-bone-blade-thing nor get trampled on by soap. it was a flurry of movement, flashing lights, gunshots that sounded as loud as the creature's previous shriek. her backward footsteps were fumbling and awkward, nearly tripping over something she thought might've been an overturned coffee mug, until her shoulder blades hit a wall. she assumed it was a wall, at least. soap was still in front of her, blasting rounds into the creature until it was finally defeated. at some point her eyes had closed, head turned to the side, only hearing the horrifying squelches of its death and feeling a bit of blood spatter that landed on the exposed side of her jaw.

her eyes snapped open, seeing soap standing over it and its smashed brains. did it even have brains? she didn't ponder it. her breathing was still ragged, heart beating faster than it ever had before in her life. finally it was silent again, beyond the distant zaps of the frayed cord and the ever present humming of the ship around them. ingrid didn't say anything, couldn't think of any clever quips like an action movie star. she thought she might've been crying. all she could do was stare at soap. she was staring so hard that she was able to see the shambling figure behind him, lit up in silhouette from behind thanks to that fucking frayed cord.

"soap!" ingrid shouted. suddenly her brain remembered the gun he gave her. somehow, it still remained in her grip, despite the dampness of her palm.

instinctively, she raised her hand, aimed it over his shoulder, and fired.

@someotherdog // soap x ingrid // original ( x )

It could be our destruction too, though.

And it very well could be.

We could still back out.

And they very well could.

But the expanse behind him was emptying, and it would be empty soon. The little food supply they had in their quadrant wouldn't last them more than a week, maybe two, if they rationed to the extreme. The power was practically limitless when put in the context of the duration of their survival. In other words, the lights and the bits and the electronic hums would definitely outlive them. If he could only tell her what he saw when he woke up and surveyed the area—the emptied, not empty cot—then maybe she would want to move forward, move away, as much as he did.

Soap decided to only nod, eyes flitting to the panel. Its interface of lines thrummed delicately, anticipating Ingrid's next movement.

When she did place her hand on it, the interface faded to white, now reading 'AUTHORIZING...' and blinking every so often. He half-wondered what would have happened if he did this when he first woke up. Would the entrance bot even recognize the map of his palm?

There was a hiss.

Then, that same artificial voice: "Access granted. Have a nice day, Ms. Sergeant."

The gargantuan white doors leading into the main bay groaned, as if they were a giant waking up after a long slumber. After a moment, they slid to one side, unveiling a dark chasm. There was no telling yet whether the main bay was empty, or emptied.

In a regular instance the main bay would be teeming with life, ship crew members moving about each quadrant checking on sleeping passengers. In the past there wouldn't be many members up, but that was before space travel was perfected and big wigs found out a way to bend time. To no longer need to put everyone in cryosleep for the length of the trip because they'd be there in a couple of weeks' time. Passengers were only under because for them, it was less about the journey and more about the destination. Ingrid and Soap didn't need to be awake, so they had the luxury of sleeping.

In his line of sight there was, first, a source of light coming from the left. He wasn't sure what it was, but it reflected on the dark steel interiors of the main bay, from the grates to the panels to the hard seating closer to the center of the bay. They must have opted for the opposite of the quadrants' stark white appearance because of the second source of light coming from above. Soap didn't stick his head in yet, but he just knew: There was a large, round window overhead that gave the main bay a glimpse of the space that surrounded them.

From experience, Soap also knew: When they were near a star, it felt like daytime. When they were traveling in nothingness, it felt like nighttime, and that's when the entire ship went to sleep. When they were near a moon, it was an in-between; a transitory part of day when all was quiet on the ship but no one was resting, except for the passengers.

Stepping out into nothing, Soap held his rifle firmly. It was the same thing as moving out with the squad on any other mission, except this time he was alone and he was the leader, not lingering behind. The weight of being at the front felt like a rock in his throat, but he wasn't scared. He just bore the responsibility.

He tried to map out, in his mind, just how big the main bay was. After days of sleep that memory of his was cloudy. It frustrated him. They had crossed enough of the bay, Soap silent, to see the source of light he'd noticed earlier on the left. It was a large, thick, snake-like cord dangling from the ceiling. Maybe at one point it was wiggling with life and electricity but now, it hung lifeless. It was cut in half, its fraying ends drooping onto the floor, a puddle of grease forming underneath it. Its ends dripped, perhaps once every five seconds like a leaky faucet, into the puddle. Every now and then it zapped with light as if a moth or fly had flown into it and became its prey.

"Don't touch it."

Suddenly a gurgling sound—as if someone was choking on something—came from behind them, interrupting the silence. Soap snapped around, holding his rifle up to the sound, which grew louder and louder as the seconds passed. And eventually, it sounded as if this something was choking on something thick, maybe their own blood, a material that could elicit a warbled gurgling. It wasn't hollow like the sound of someone choking on water or maybe being choked by an arm.

Its footsteps were equally wet. Slow and yet, purposeful. Walking towards them. Soap's grip on his gun and finger on the trigger were ready. The light from the sagging cord flashed. Then darkness. A flash. Then darkness.

A moment later the light gave way to a horrific vision: a human-like body with bones that seemed to outgrow its own shape. Mangled toes stuck out of its legs where its shins would be and in place of its feet were talon-shaped branches of bloated flesh. Then darkness. A flash. Its arms were no longer arms but instead resembled scythes, pointed right at Soap and Ingrid. They were covered in blood. Then darkness. A flash. Its face, was shifted where its right shoulder should be, leaving a headless neck bone fragmented and sprouting out of a 7-foot torso.

It seemed to have seen them. That was when its footsteps grew faster and, in place of its gurgling, it let out a shriek. A wretched screech that, at the same time, felt strained. At once it sounded like someone calling for help and someone wanting to rip them to pieces. Soap didn't want to wait to find out.

"Stay behind me!" he hollered to Ingrid as he fired a round into the creature's torso. When that didn't seem to stop it or even make it stumble in the slightest, Soap started walking backwards, not daring to take his eyes off it. He shot at the creature's feet, and there, the mutated tissue and weak cartilage blew off. The creature fell on its stomach on the floor and crawled at them, slowing down. They were almost backed into a corner now, but at this distance Soap had a clear view of the creature's head. He shot at its face, its blood splattering all over the floor. It slowed down almost completely, and from it came this rancid smell of rotten, rotting flesh.

Not wanting to waste another bullet, Soap dared to take a step closer. If only to see this thing up close. He brought his boot down roughly on the creature's skull and it squished under his sole. Its spine, exposed where its head was supposed to be, twitched ever so slightly.

Then it died.

[neonacity]

Blood Red [Full Cut] | Ch.1 | Haechan x Reader

Summary: You're a forensic psychiatrist assigned to one of the country's high-profile criminals. You want to unravel him, but he's set on catching you in his web instead.

Characters: Haechan, Reader, Jungwoo

Warnings: crimes, blood, weapons, toxic dynamics, psychological themes, personality disorder, mental health disorder, dissociative identity disorder, possible smut [there is no smut yet for this chapter but the theme of the story is heavy. Please, please, please, do not interact if you are a minor]. This work is not meant to romanticize any personality disorders or toxic dynamics. Also, I am not a trained psychologist or medical professional so there might be inconsistencies on some of the scientific things here. Most medical references mentioned, however, are based on a book that I’ve always loved way way back, “The Minds of Billy Milligan” which is based on a true story. This is a work of fiction and I am not implying any likeness between the characterization here of the boys to their real life counterparts. I also reserve the rights to all my work—I do not post anywhere else other than tumblr.

A/N: Hi! I was thinking of a celebratory post for hitting 1k followers recently and decided to turn the teaser I shared into a mini fic. It was originally meant to be a one shot but since I cannot keep my word when it comes to my fics as usual, here I am putting out again a perfect example of my lack of self control. Thank you to everyone who has showed interest on Blood Red and I hope you enjoy! 

The creaking sound of the rusty metal door made you look up from the files you were trying to read. None of the words typed there made sense to you, but still you put up the perfect facade of focus and detachment as your eyes met the trio that loomed in the threshold of the room's entrance. Two burly guards—no less than six feet in height—crowded the door, the taser and guns on their sides bulking up their already thick frames. They looked like sentinels shipped straight from alcatraz with their intimidating figures, and yet it was not them that piqued your interest the most. Subtly, your dark eyes moved a little lower, the shadow flickering behind them only partly covered by the gleam of your glasses.

Your gaze was met by the equally intense stare of the boy in the middle of the small party, a young man in his early twenties with a shocking head of bright red hair. His locks were messy, with some falling over his eyes, but even that couldn't disguise the way he looked at you—calm, but with a chilling edge only those trained on your job can blatantly notice. You looked at him steadily, your face never changing, even as his gaze bore on you from a distance. He seemed to be deep in thought too like he was trying to read you off, but finally, the tips of his lips quirked into a knowing smile that made goosebumps rise at the back of your neck.

"You have 15 minutes. Do anything stupid and we'll fry your brain."

You watched as one of the guards roughly pushed the boy into the room before hauling back the heavy metal door closed behind them. It took you everything not to flinch as it slammed shut, the sound echoing around the quarters like a threat. You stared at it momentarily, your heartbeat hard against your throat.

"Such ugly brutes, aren't they? Their visuals fit this hellish place."

The lilting, teasing tone made you snap your attention back to the boy who was still standing in the middle of the room. The interview cell only had a grainy yellow light illuminating the place and it threw stark shadows now to the rest of his lithe frame. His features are unexpectedly soft—almost pretty—but the way he smiled and drank you in gave him a wildish edge that teased the edges of your flight and fight response. As a seasoned forensic psychologist who has built a career in profiling some of the most dangerous criminals, you know exactly of his type.

A mastermind predator. The worst of his kind.

"Please take a seat. Lee Haechan, am I right?"

Something changed in the light of his eyes as you called out his name. It was quick, but you caught it anyway before he moved towards the chair across from you. For the first time, you noticed the black choker just peeking underneath the collar of his overalls, a green light beeping faintly on a rectangular piece of metal fixed there. You took it in quietly despite the chill that it brought to your veins. Shock collars. So that's what the guards have been talking about earlier.

"I like your lipstick."

His voice sounded casual when he spoke again, but it was enough for you to straighten your back in slight tension. His hooded eyes were on your lips, and he deliberately smirked before he raised his gaze to meet yours. He subtly ran his tongue over his lower lip as he seemed to try to keep his smile from widening.

"It's the color of blood."

"Do you like blood?" You asked, grateful for the steady voice that came out of you.

"I'm not particularly against it."

"Is that why you committed three arson cases, four bombings, and ten mass cyanide crimes across the city?"

His brows raised, impressed.

"You know my dating profile. That's very sweet of you."

"Answer the question, please."

He laughed.

"Princess, none of those drew any blood, but if you're asking that question to confirm my love for violence, then yes, I did them all."

A slow but measured breath slowly left you. When his case was turned over to you for handling, you've already drawn a specific image of him in your head. Manic, crazy, and reckless—serial, high-profile offenders like him usually fall in those kinds of buckets. The boy in front of you now is the exact opposite of what you were expecting, calm, measured, and a hundred percent aware of his actions. What he has is a specific kind of madness, the worst of what you know of.

He knows what you are trying to do, and you know you need to change your tactic if you want to break through his cracks.

"You sound so confident of the crimes you've done," you said slowly as you flipped through his file. You stopped at the last page which contains the record of his last court hearing.

"Very strange, especially since you gave an insanity plea to the courts," your eyes deliberately met him now to see his reaction. Slowly, you leaned closer to the table, palms flat on the cold metal surface.  "Tell me, Haechan, is that just a part of your act? Because you had a lot of people pretty much convinced, with them sending me here and all."

Silence settled in the stale air between you, thick and tense. He looked at you blankly, before his gaze momentarily slipped again to your blood red lips.

"The insanity plea was not a lie. At least that's what Haechan thinks," he said slowly, humor lacing his voice. His smile widened as his eyes trailed up your face and the way his expression changed made a chill run down your spine. If not for your sheer training, you wouldn't have had it in you to ask your next question.

"What do you mean—"

"He is right. He is insane. Crazily fucked up, if I must say. But that's just him, that poor boy whose name you've been calling me with."

Your jaw slacked as his words sank in. This couldn't be what you were thinking. When the federal office called you in, you thought you would simply meet another mentally unhinged convict. You were about to speak through the lump in your throat when he also leaned over, his face now only inches from yours.

"But I'm different. I'm the sane one. And my name…"

"Is Lee Donghyuck."

*******

"Dissociative Identity Disorder? Are you serious right now?"

Jungwoo did a full 180 in his swivel chair just so he could give you his most incredulous stare. You raised your brows at him to give him a pointed look before sighing and throwing your hands in the air. To be honest, you can't really blame your partner for acting like you've said something crazy, because it sounds unbelievable even to your own ears. 

"Don't look at me like that. I know it sounds mad, but all signs lead to it. I wasn't just called by the feds to profile him, they wanted me to diagnose him."

"And your diagnosis… is dissociative identity disorder."

You threw the man a slightly irritated look as he rubbed the incredulity of your hypothesis into your face. He's a dear, dear friend of yours, but he's also a detective, and people like him look at hard facts and evidence over anything else. As a psychologist, you are also expected to do the same, but there are also matters of the human mind that can blur into gray areas when it comes to your profession. The case of Lee Haechan, is one of those.

"Yes. Based on his symptoms and actions, that is exactly what he has."

"So you're saying that the boy… has multiple personalities inside of him?"

"Two to be exact. Haechan is the host or the de facto personality that takes consciousness. Then you have Donghyuck—"

"...who is the criminal," Jungwoo finished with a questioning but pointed lilt to his voice.

You winced slightly. "I doubt any of them is entirely innocent, but yes, Donghyuck would be the more aggressive one, or at least the mastermind of the majority of the crimes 'they' have committed."

"How do you know this?"

"Because he has confessed. To every single one of them. After my first interview with him, I was told that he gave statements again about every crime he has done, except that he is claiming them as Donghyuck."

Jungwoo didn't say anything at first. He simply stared at you, still looking unsold with what you were saying. Finally, he sighed and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Look babe, I want to believe you. But what if… he's just a really good actor?"

At that, you tapped your pen against the edge of your table before reaching out for something on your desk. You passed the two black films over to Jungwoo who wordlessly took them with a slightly confused look on his face.

"These are…"

"Brain scans. If you take a look there, different regions of both images are showing various levels of frequencies. Our brains are divided into different lobes—some are for emotions and the others for memories and consciousness. Our personal experiences fire up different networks in our head, which means one brain map is highly unlikely to be the same with another. It's like fingerprints."

"Okay… and so what does this exactly—"

"The scans you are holding right now are both from the 'same' person."

You entirely caught the way Jungwoo froze in his seat as your words hit him. He looked on, petrified, at the films he was holding, and you took on his shocked silence before continuing on.

"One was taken while Haechan was the one holding consciousness and the other when Donghyuck took over. Jungwoo, I've worked with narcissists… psychopaths, serial killers. A person simply cannot just change their own brain waves regardless of how good of an actor they are."

Your partner was stumped. He finally trained his eyes on you, the confusion in his features even more evident now.

"How—so you mean to say, there really are two people in that one body? How is that even biologically possible?"

You sighed and ran a frustrated hand through your locks. As much as you hated to admit it, even someone with your profession can't really explain or defend this fully. The truth is that dissociative identity disorders are one of the most controversial topics in psychological practice, mainly because they are easy to misdiagnose. Even now, the practicing community is divided about it. Hell, you don't even know which side you stand on yourself.

"It might not be. There is a lot of controversy about these kinds of cases because it's also possible that a person might just be suffering from other personality disorders like schizophrenia. But then again, those brain scans… I wouldn't know how to explain that other than to say that yes, there might be two identities sharing one body alone."

"So that is why he made an insanity plea. Is this even a thing?" Jungwoo asked.

"It's been done before. There have been previous records of convicts using it as an excuse to go the easy way out, you know, just get holed up in psychiatric wards instead of being sentenced to prison, but there were also special cases that made the cut. One example is this guy called Billy Millgan, the first man who was found not guilty because of this disorder. He had 25 different personalities."

The man in front of you was speechless. For a couple of seconds, he simply looked at you before he finally made a subtle shake of his head. You winced. He looked like he was genuinely worried over you.

"Look, I hate to say this, but I'm so glad I don't have your job. I'd say try to get this done and over with as soon as possible. I'm no psychologist… but I have a really bad feeling about this."

You didn't say anything. You couldn't, because as much as you hate to admit it, you have the same feel churning in your gut right now. Silently, you took the scans Jungwoo handed back to you, your eyes landing on the patterns there. He's right… the sooner you get this done and over with, the better. Just do what you need to do, then walk away...

...Before you even stumble head first into a trap. 

******* "Don't touch me!"

The terrified, high-pitched voice of someone made you sit up straight on your plastic stool. You were in a padded room with only the bare essentials, the space looking like a complete contrast to the icky dungeon-like quarters you were first led to. Outside, the walls looked equally sterile, as if you were in the deepest belly of a hospital instead of being in a correctional facility.

You trained your ears harder now as you tried to pick up more sounds outside. You could hear grunts and whimpering, followed by shuffling as if someone was being forcefully dragged. It was making you highly uncomfortable, so you pushed back from the table and stood up to check the situation yourself. Your hand was just inches from the door handle when it suddenly burst open and a blur of white hurtled straight into your arms.

You barely had the wits to catch the shaking form of a boy pushed towards you. Startled, your eyes snapped towards the entrance where you saw three men wearing white scrubs crowding the threshold. Compared to the prison guards you first brushed elbows with, these ones definitely look less suited for fighting. However, you still felt a heavy feeling sink into your stomach when one of them stepped a little closer past the door, a syringe in his hand. He was about to fully cross the distance towards you when you put your hand up out of instinct.

"Stop. Is that a sedative?"

The man paused at your unexpected intrusion. Against you, the boy you were still trying to hold up started shaking so hard you thought you two would actually fall down. His face was buried on the crook of your neck and you could feel his heavy breathing wash your collarbone with warmth.

"It is. He needs it for his session with you. He's having a manic episode."

Your lips pursed into a thin line. You couldn't really see the boy's face with the way he is clinging on you, but you did feel his arms go around your waist and pull you closer. The nurse saw the action and was about to make another step when you stopped him again.

"I don't think that’s it. He's just scared."

"But miss—"

"That's doctor for you. It's fine. He's under my watch right now. Besides, I don't want any of my patients drugged during my interviews."

"He can be dangerous," the man reasoned, his eyes falling momentarily on the still shaking boy. You didn't immediately reply to that, knowing perfectly well that it can be true. Instead, you held your palm up and reached it out to him instead.

"Give me the syringe then."

"What—"

"Give it to me. I'll be the one to use it on him personally once I'm sure he needs it."

The man clenched his jaw. Beside him, his colleagues also exchanged doubtful looks, though none of them really said a thing. Finally, the nurse handed over the shot and took a step back.

"Emergency button is under your the table. Press it when you need help," he said before finally turning on his heels. You silently watched them leave the room until they sealed the door shut behind them.

It took a while before you finally decided to turn your full attention to the boy still pressed up against you. He still seemed so high-strung that you had to carefully raise a hand to touch his arm, but he motion only made him tense up more.

"Hey, it's okay. They're gone. You're safe."

He seemed partly unconvinced by your words, but he managed to peel himself away from you after a moment. Red locks covered his eyes which are shining now with a mixture of both fear and panic. You realized how tall he is this close, and yet the look on his face made him seem smaller and frailer than he is. Slowly, he let go of his hold on your waist, though he didn’t really move a muscle past that. 

"We should… go and sit."

You motioned towards the table set-up with your hand that was still holding the syringe. The movement made him look at it, a gesture you immediately caught so you made a pointed move to slip it into the pocket of your coat. He was watching you closely, and you knew you had to be careful with your every move if you wanted to gain his trust. When it looked like he had no plans of moving, you took the lead and settled on your seat, waiting for him to do the same.

"I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to talk."

Your words seemed to have triggered something in him. He blinked, before finally making a measured step towards his designated spot. You didn’t miss the way he left a little bit of distance between himself and the table when he finally sat down. Everything about his body language says that he isn’t entirely comfortable yet, and that he is ready to flee at any given moment. You even tried meeting his gaze, but he made sure to keep his head down as if he was set on avoiding you as much as possible.

"Haechan… Am I right?"

Your soft voice calling out his name made him lose his front. His eyes snapped up to meet yours, big and mildly surprised. In that moment, you realized just how much one's aura can change someone's physical pull. He looks like the same boy you met almost a week ago, and yet he seems like an entirely different person altogether. While Donghyuck is cocky and calm, Haechan is scared and unsure, like a wounded animal always on the verge of curling in on himself. His face is more expressive, especially his big brown eyes that just can't seem to hide all the emotions churning inside of him. You realized it was the reason why he didn't want to look at you—because he can't hide anything at all.

"Are you going to use the injection on me?"

The sound of his voice made you pause for a bit. It was an odd experience hearing him speak now, because despite it being the same as the first boy you met, his notes are also softer and almost higher in pitch. Even the way his tongue rolled over his words are different. You held his gaze steadily before you answered.

"No. Unless you hurt me. Do you want to hurt me, Haechan?"

A look of horror and slight disgust creased his features.

"N-no! I can never hurt someone…"

"Then there is no need to be worried. I just want to talk to you… You can relax," you said with a softer tone, your lips lifting at the corners to a small smile. It was probably the last reaction that the boy was expecting, because you saw exactly how shock settled on his features before heat climbed to his cheeks. His eyes dipped quickly towards your lips, but he was soon enough turning his gaze away as he tried to get his bearings. You took that as your window to ease in.

"I never expected I could talk to you so soon. Donghyuck seems to be very protective of you."

Your first question made him lose his focus again in a snap. He glanced at you, silent disbelief and a hint of hope evident on his face.

"You… believe in Donghyuck?"

You paused before answering. While this is the first case of dissociative identity disorder that you've handled, you're also already familiar with its sensitivities. One of the 'blockages' that keep patients from being treated is when they are made to feel like their other personalities are a lie. They need someone to trust… because only then can you get inside their head.

"I believe that you are not lying. If you think Donghyuck exists, then he is as real as you are."

He was speechless. You uncrossed and crossed your legs now under the table and let your hands rest in front of you loosely. You kept eye contact with him, your gaze open but inquiring.

"Can you tell me more about him, Haechan? Anything that you feel comfortable sharing with me."

Silence. One second passed. Three. Five.

"He… protects me."

"Protects you… from what?"

His jaw tightened in answer.

"From getting hurt."

Now it was your time to stall. Most people with dissociative identity disorder suffered from severe trauma from their past—usually in childhood—when their minds are not yet fully developed to process certain experiences. These events usually causes the personality to 'splinter' and create other internal identities that are better suited to deal with difficult situations.

"How does he protect you?"

"He… takes care of people… before they can even touch me. But I don't know what exactly he does. Most of the time when he—takes over, he puts me to sleep."

The shadow of a frown danced through your face for a second. So that's the reason behind the insanity plea. Haechan probably wasn't even aware of the horrors his other self has done.

"Haechan… Do you remember the first time you let Donghyuck take over? How old were you then?"

The boy's face scrunched up as if he was deep in thought. You noticed how his fingers started to fidget more, tangling and untangling over each other.

"I was… six years old. My step dad came home drunk like usual. My mom wasn't there—he would usually beat her up so he came to my room instead," he paused as if talking had become too hard on him. You kept silent, watching him closely.

"It wasn't the first time. He had hit me before, but he had only used his hands. That day was different though. He was holding a bottle and his eyes… I remember they were so red. I was—very scared. The last thing I remember was that he was approaching my bed and then I blacked out. The next time I woke up was two days after… and my step dad was gone."

You processed that slowly… deliberately. Your palms have gone cold, but your facial expressions, thankfully, remained collected on the outside.

"When you say gone, what do you mean?"

"I don't really know what happened to him. My mom said he just left. We never heard from him again after that."

"And you believe that was the first time Donghyuck came to existence? Why?"

Haechan frowned at his hands in answer. "Because he told me. My mom—she dated a lot of guys. All of them were not nice. Donghyuck first 'talked' to me when my mom started living with a new man after my step dad. He told me to leave and run away."

"What do you mean he talked to you? How does he talk to you?"

He lifted a finger and pointed briefly at his temple.

"Here. I can hear his voice. Sometimes, I can also talk to him by withdrawing inside of my head. At those moments, I can see him."

Your head was spinning. You picked up your pen but simply squeezed it gently between your fingers.

"How does Donghyuck look?"

"He… looks just like me."

"How old are you, Haechan?"

"Twenty-two."

"And how old is Donghyuck?"

He paused. You could feel your heartbeat beating hard against your throat.

"Twenty-seven…"

You let out a slow breath. Your mind's eye flashed the brain scans again and the unnatural patterns between them. You already had a hint about the reason behind the irregularities there, but it's only now when you pieced everything together. Donghyuck's brain scan was not entirely abnormal, but it showed different areas that are more developed than Haechan's—parts that can be more prominent due to age, experience, and memory. It was why they look like they came from different people; because technically, they did.

"Does Donghyuck regularly come out?" You asked steadily even though your head was reeling. There were so many things you needed to process, but you tried to keep them at bay to hold your front.

"…No, at least before. I used to always be the one in control, but something changed when I turned eighteen. I started noticing that I would have memory gaps and would wake up days later in a different place and time. He would always tell me though that he just did something to protect me; and I would believe him, because I would be safe every time I would step again into the spotlight."

"The spotlight?"

He gave a timid nod. "It's what we call it every time we switch. When I'm the one to hold consciousness, I stand in the spotlight. It's like… a place inside our head. He steps into it when he wants to take over."

You thought over that slowly. Usually, patients with his condition have this mechanism—a process that enables the switch. What you need to figure out right now, however, is the trigger for it.

"Are you… aware of what Donghyuck has done, Haechan?"

The moment you asked that question, it's as if the air in the room physically shifted. His expression, already fragile moments ago, completely morphed into full-on fear. His pupils shook and his fumbling fingers locked together. One look at him and you got your answer:

He doesn't know. He was in the dark about everything. The crimes, the fires, the deaths. He knew nothing of it.

"N-no. I don't want to hear it!"

You were taken aback by the sudden pitch of his voice. It was obvious that he was agitated, if not on the verge of a panic attack. Unconsciously, your hand dropped to the underside of the table where the panic button is.

"It's okay. We don’t need to talk about it..." you said carefully to try and calm him down. He didn't seem to hear it though, his hand flying to grab his hair instead.

"The police, they said that I hurt so many people. They read this long list of—of bad things but I didn't know any of them. I didn't do any of them!"

"Haechan... calm down—"

Your heart almost burst through your chest when he suddenly leaned over and grabbed for your hand that was still settled on the table. His fingers circled around your wrist tightly but you were too shocked to even wince from the pain. Instead, any sound that wanted to slip out of you got stuck in your throat when his eyes clashed with yours. They were so wide with fear and confusion that it almost broke something inside of you.

"Noona, you don't believe them do you? I didn't do any of it. They said I killed—"

"You didn't. Donghyuck did. You're not him."

You didn't know where the words came from but they were already out before you could even think them through. The moment you said it, the two of you froze, eyes locked with each other. Haechan reflected surprise for what you just said… yours, disbelief for your course of action. The air was so thick, you could barely breathe.

The panic button. Press it.

No.

Press it. He's dangerous.

He's not!

"Do you… believe me?"

His voice was back to normal when he finally broke the silence with his whisper. Not trusting your voice yet, you simply gave him a shaky nod in answer. Silence stretched again between the two of you until finally, he let you go.

"T-thank you… I'm so sorry… I didn't mean to scare you."

You scrambled to collect your wits without entirely cracking on the surface. Your hand that was under the table dropped to your purse on the chair next to you and immediately circled around the closest thing it could reach inside of it. You squeezed the cold surface of something small in an effort to steady yourself, and you realized, with detached irony, that it's your lipstick bullet you had in your grasp.

"Don't worry about it," you said, when you were finally confident enough to speak again without your voice breaking. Haechan looked at you guiltily, but didn't say anything else. Every fiber of you was screaming for you to pack up and leave, but you also knew you had to get one foot in—and that this is the best time to do it. 

"Listen... Haechan. If you want to prove that you're innocent, you have to work with me. That's why I'm here. So we could understand… and you could get better."

He didn't immediately give an answer. You took his silence as a chance to break through him more.

"Can you do that? Work with me?"

His eyes finally flickered towards you before looking away again.

"Yes… Donghyuck said we can trust you."

You swallowed.

"Can we, noona…?" Haechan asked, his face open and searching. "Can we trust you?"

Only seconds ticked by, but the pause that followed seemed like it lasted more. Haechan held your gaze and you kept it, the two of you both taking the chance to read off whatever it is that you can’t say at the moment. Despite yourself, you managed to let go of your grasp on your lipstick and used the hand to reach out to him instead. You were only planning to let it rest there, but the warmth of his skin made you circle your fingers around his instead. His eyes never left yours, searching your face as he waited for your next words. When his nails gently pushed back against your wrist again, you finally managed to whisper.

"Yes. You can."

*******

A/N: Blame red hair Haechan for  this, I guess. 

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