#cw compassionate suicide

[fiestylittlebeetle]

What if I had Mal relapse just a little bit

Basically Azmuth comes to earth and someone has the brilliant idea to get him and Mal in a room together, cause it's been maybe a year and a half sense Mal started recovery, and he's been doing great actually

And maybe that person thought they could just talk ya know, make amends

Mal isn't having it. The moment he sees Azmuth its on sight. The anger consumes him, that little pilot light ignites a full blaze of rage.

He goes for it, he lunges and raises a fist to smash azmuth where he stands, luckily Ben is around and a couple others, they brought aether too for moral support so he's there

Ben snatches azmuth out of the way and Everyone immediately tries to get between him and Mal, and Mal is right about to split them like the red sea. Practically roaring in fury at them, and at Azmuth, like how DARE he show his face, how DARE they bring him here to see the one thing he hates more then anything in the universe. He felt betrayed by this

Aether grabs him up from behind to get him away, but Mal doesn't really realize who's lifted him and in pure reflex, to defend himself and get away he swings back as hard as he can and knocks Aether HARD in the face and to the floor.

And oh boy, when Mal, blinded by fury looks over at whoever had grabbed him up ready to deal another lethal blow, and sees Aether laying on the ground holding his head in one hand, he freezes

The rage is still there, he is blazing with it. But the cold creep of guilt rises to join it. He didn't mean to strike aether like that, he wouldn't have done it had he known it was him. Would he? He's unsure now

He looks at the faces of everyone there, everyone who helped him, aether on the ground. And he flees.

He runs. He takes his rage and his guilt and he runs. He's furious, he's furious at azmuth, he's furious at them, and he's furious at himself right now.

The worst part is he can feel the old him, rumbling to come out, to lash out at the world around him, to rip it apart and everyone in it. And it starts creeping on him

But it doesn't feel like him anymore. It's a beast inside him. And it doesn't like what he's become either, for different reasons.

The old him thinks he's pathetic. he failed once at peak power, what the hell makes him think he can do anything now. He was weak enough to lean on other people and now he's to pathetic to even face them again. What's the point of even going anymore, he should do both of them (his old self and himself now) the favor of just dying.

And it pisses him off more.

Anyway, he ends up in some salvage yard and is wrecking anything he can get his claws on, trying to think of what to do, where to go. Under the full assumption that he's returned to where he's started and burned it all to the ground.

I think this would be the ideal time to have my "malware gets kidnapped by Khyber as a trophy" idea I had.

Khyber finds him there, been tracking him sense he ended up alone again, and away from others made it the perfect time to approach.

He tries to flirt his way in at first, maybe even offers to help him again. Mal even considers the offer, remember his touch. But he also remembers when Khyber ditched him and left him at Ben's mercy. And he gets angry

Straight up tells Khyber to go fuck himself, that he's just as much of a two faced snake as anyone else. Throws him to the side

Khyber isn't having this. But he also planned what to do in the event Mal rejected his offer, and captures him through more forceful measures.

Meanwhile.

After Malware had taken off naturally everyone is a bit shocked. Pointing fingers. Azmuth snidely remarks that of course malware would behave this way, he can never change. Ben takes this with a more then a grain of salt. He reminds himself that azmuth cant always be trusted when it comes to other people, and he remembers what happened with Kevin too. But he still heirs on the side of caution about the situation

Aether is fine, just rattled by the hit he took, didn't realize Mal had that kind of force in him still. And although he is hurt emotionally from being struck by the person he cares about, he's also worried.

Everyone goes there own way. For a couple days Aether doesn't see Mal he assumes he went back to the tennyson house, and wanted to let him have his space, and his own too.

But Mal isn't there, in fact Ben, Sandra, and Carl assume he may have returned to Aether's home instead.

Aether tries to message Mal, contact him to see if he's at least ready to talk.

Nothing

Asks him to please let him know he's okay

Nothing.

Just say anything

Nothing.

A week passes and Aether can't fucking take it anymore. He's worried beyond belief. He ends up going to the Tennyson house to ask Sandra if she's seen him

Nothing

He asks Ben and rook of they've seen him.

Nothing, and if he really did relapse completely they definitely would have heard something.

Now it's a hunt. What happened to malware. There's been no destruction, no one's seen or heard from him. It's like he vanished into thin air.

They end up going to Gwen and Kevin. One them is bound to have some kind of idea. Gwen gives tracking him a shot, by now she's been learning allot from Bezel, and Spark making it easier to learn how to connect mana and machines

And it kinda works

Anyway after a bit of running around here and there, they do end up tracking him down to Khyber's ship. Finding him contained in an electromagnetic field. Beat the hell out of Khyber, and release Mal.

He's, not doing great. He's been trapped with the two worst people he could be stuck with for the past week. Himself, and Khyber. Thinking he'd lost everything again, failed at life a second time.

He feels guilty about lashing out even though he STILL believes in wanting azmuth to die. He feels guilty for everyone else though

Thinks he can't go back, thinks he doesn't deserve Aether's companionship anymore. He was born a monster, he became a bigger monster, and he's still a monster

Obviously everyone disapproves of this mind set. Especially Aether, Gwen, Kevin, and Sandra.

And ya know, none of them are therapists, but relapsing is normal. Even Kevin admits to his own relapsing and look where he is now.

It's a hard pill to swallow. Mal apologizes to Aether for striking him, he genuinely did not want to hurt Aether, never thought of hurting him on purpose.

Aether forgives him cause he believes what he says. (And Mal is telling the truth)

No one is gonna try and bring Azmuth around in Mal's presence again for sure. Lessons learned all around.

[thestarlightforge]

“From Your Internet Big Brother”

4/8/24

******

Y’all know that account on here who signs all his messages, “From your internet dad?” The guy who goes around offering support to discouraged LGBTQ+ youth, filling the life advice gap for those who need it?

I’m gonna try not to be preachy. (Not that his posts ever strike me as such.)

But, hi. It’s your big internet brother, and I have something important to say.

Friends? The amount of times I’ve said to myself, in the past 3 months, “Thank god I didn’t kill myself in high school?”

Incalculable. I lost track weeks ago.

Don’t do it, y’all.

I realize that I am probably no more or less effective than any other internet stranger in saying this to you, much less someone who really knows your life.

But I promise you—and if you know me at all, you know I don’t mess around with promises—it is not worth it.

Not for the jag weeds making you miserable right now, whether at school or elsewhere in your life. Not for the Southern oppressive education system that’s teaching you inaccurate (if any) information about racism, misogyny, queer people and hell knows what else. Not for the classes you don’t understand, the grades or scholarships you do or don’t get, or the fear that courses from the pit of your stomach to your fingertips 75% of the time about everything you’re facing.

Literally, none of it makes it worth it to opt out of this life.

And no, it’s not because the sky is pretty, or you might have a great career, or those stressful things will completely go away. The sky is pretty, that’s true; you don’t know what your adult life will look like, no matter how the grown folks around you currently feel about it (or how they may project their own fears and/or dreams over yours); and a lot of the stressors probably will at least change. But the color of the sky can’t fix everything. Most if not all of us will still have some bad people in our lives, even if it is less bad people. And we still live in a racist, sexist, queer-phobic, ableist, late-stage capitalist world.

So that’s not why.

I don’t talk about it much, because I hate it when my pain gets twisted into an inspiration-porn-like pity sentiment, e.g. “Your life is SO HARD with that WHEELCHAIR and OPERATIONS and HORRIBLE BRAIN, I can’t IMAGINE how you EVER do ANYTHING with such an AWFUL and PATHETIC existence.” (My new favorite answer to these sorts of wildly inappropriate comments is, “Ma’am, this is a Wendy’s.”) But I’ve had a pretty hard life. A lot of trauma and pain, both medical and personal/emotional. A hard life whose stress has, many times, gotten on top of me, to the point where I felt I didn’t know how to withstand it anymore—and no amount of contemplating either nature’s beauty, leaving toxicity behind, or a possible illustrious future career was enough to alleviate the pain.

But the reason, kids, why you shouldn’t kill yourself in high school, no matter how bad you’re hurting or how hopeless things feel—why you should instead get through it however you can besides acting on that thought—is because you never know when you are going to meet people who will make magic come back into your world.

We should all learn to love ourselves. The therapists are right about that. We should love us for us—not just for what we can give back, what we can contribute or produce, or how we can be “useful” to others. But humans are social creatures. We evolved to exist amidst communities. We grew and changed, and are changing, within nature—and it’s important to both appreciate those connections, and to understand and dismantle the oppressive systems that have been imposed on top of them as much as we can. But in my experience, for us wacky little gremlin guys, the most important part of this human thing is our ties to each other.

Chidi Anagonye/Michael Schur/“The Good Place” got it right: “Why choose to be good every day if there is no guaranteed reward we can count on, now or in the afterlife? I argue that we choose to be good because of our bonds with other people and our innate desire to treat them with dignity. Simply put, we are not in this alone.”

So you keep going. Even if that means for years, you have to go on autopilot. Get through the trauma. Keep your head down, survive, whatever it is.

Because, simply, you never know when you’re gonna find your people. You never know when you’ll meet others who will turn out to be some of the loves of your life. The chaos of our universe—of living as a (mostly) three dimensional being who (mostly) experiences time linearly—is that you’ll never know who’s still out there. You can be observant, look for the signs, and do what you can to build community. But no matter what you do, you can’t predict with any real certainty when the day will come where you’ll look around and realize that instead of feeling hopeless, you are laughing with people who genuinely love and care about you. It’s asinine, for how years of pain can seem to drag themselves out and make a muddy, gross soup of your life. But the turnaround really does happen in a snap, just like that.

One morning, I felt I would be lonely forever, and I struggled to convince myself that all my life’s struggles were worth fighting through—or that my past traumas had been worth soldiering through.

Then, one evening, I sat with loved ones—people I didn’t even know existed six months ago—and instead of ignoring or chastising me… The first thing that happened? Was they asked me about “Dungeons and Dragons.” I didn’t expect them to understand or care, I just loved them anyway; thinking little of my own heart, I have a bad habit of resigning myself to letting it be enough just to be near people I care for, not hoping they will really care for me. But they started our group hang by asking that, and then really listening—even though they don’t understand it. Because they care. About me. They love me.

Just like that, kids. Just like that.

So your mission, friends? Survive. Because I want this for you, too. ❤️

Love,

Your Internet Big Brother.

[misscammiedawn]

The Strange Case of Murder Alters

CW: Discussions of real life murder, sexual violence and heavy stigmatization of the mentally ill

-

It's not easy writing essays about positive representation for complex dissociative disorders in fiction.

Even the most compassionate cases of intentional representation have flawed elements to them. There is no perfect depiction of plurality in popular culture as even those who specialize in the understanding and treatment of dissociative disorders do not have a full understanding of what it is like to live with conditions like this and those who do are often disregarded.

That all goes without noting that it is a highly subjective experience. There are as many presentations of plurality as there are plural people.

In writing this essay series I want to avoid murder alters because I hate how they are used to harm the most vulnerable people in our society.

But at the very least I can do my best to try and understand why people have this horrible view of others such as we...

Because behind the misunderstanding of our condition there is another issue at play.

The zeitgeist.

Today I want to talk about the social impact of The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson.

-

Released in 1886, the story is a mystery about a lawyer named Gabriel John Utterson who is investigating the suspected extortion of a his friend and client, Dr. Henry Jekyll by a thug named Edward Hyde.

It is so popular a piece of fiction that it has been adapted over 100 times.

See, the book is a mystery in which a lawyer uncovers the truth about the miracle elixir that allows Henry Jekyll to alter his appearance so that he may drop his social obligations and act without fear of consequence, knowing he can live his respectable life as Jekyll and any depravity within his soul can be exorcised within the guide of Edward Hyde with the Jekyll name unsullied.

The reveal that Jekyll and Hyde are the same person does not happen until the final pages, after Utterson discovers Hyde's body in Jekyll's lab, dressed in Henry's clothes and with a confession letter explaining the whole affair. It concludes that he can no longer control the physical transformations and that he will either be executed or have the courage to commit suicide. Either way the consequences fall onto someone other than himself.

Will Hyde die upon the scaffold? or will he find courage to release himself at the last moment? God knows; I am careless; this is my true hour of death, and what is to follow concerns another than myself. Here then, as I lay down the pen and proceed to seal up my confession, I bring the life of that unhappy Henry Jekyll to an end.

Henry had compartmentalized enough of his undesirable impulses and emotions that he stored them in an entirely other vessel, dissociating himself from the actions of Hyde enough that he ends his confession that they are the same with the notion that the consequences of their actions falls on someone other than himself.

Dissociative Identity Disorder has long been recognized as a condition though it was not fully understood, even by today's clouded understandings. The International Society for the Study of Trauma and Dissociation (ISSTD) has medical journals dating as far back as 1831 on the topic.

Though the concept of "dual personalities" was a curiosity to the medical community it was often discussed in the same breath as hypnotism, spirit mediums and possession. It was still understood and studied at the time.

Stevenson was clearly obsessed with the concept of duality of the soul as Jekyll and Hyde was his third attempt at writing a story which centered on the war of Good and Evil within a single soul.

His previous attempt at the concept, Markheim, is a short story about a man who commits a murder of passion while shopping for a gift to get his fiancee.

The story heavily features the concept of mirrors with the titular Markheim terrified of his own reflection, noting that there is nothing within a mirror that he wishes to see. After killing the store owner he searches the house for money and is approached by a stranger who debates with him on the concepts of good and evil, acting as a spiritual mirror that Markheim must see himself within until he stops trying to deny and obfuscate his responsibility in the evils he has committed.

The story ends with him woefully confessing that he has lost the love of good but still hates evil and confesses for the murder, allowing himself to be arrested.

The stories less focus on dissociated personalities and more upon the way a person can self justify unspeakable acts to themselves by avoiding their own reflection.

I'd mentioned that Jekyll and Hyde had been adapted over 100 times?

Perhaps I misspoke. You must forgive me...

You know, I'd imagined this essay as a video. I simply have never dabbled with the form and am concerned I would take to the form with the grace and skill of James Somerton. It's far easier to stick with the devil that I know, namely typing an irresponsible number of words at my Tumblr audience.

Indulging the mental image a moment, however, the prior segment having us (Camden potentially?) bathed in golden light wearing a suit and a top hat, speaking in a refined and elegant version of our English accent before switching to me (Dawn) in red light disheveled and looking oh so slutty and talking with a little bit of our old cockney twang.

You'll forgive my distraction for this little aside, I am simply too vain not to paint that mental picture as I type.

See, there are hundreds of Jekyll and Hyde adaptations. The issue is they are adaptations of Thomas Russell Sullivan's Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde is a stage play that ran for 20 years with its run starting with Madison Square Theatre and Lyceum Theatre in New York and London respectively.

The stage play tells a neat chronological story focused on Dr. Jekyll rather than an investigation which flits between events as in the book. Moreover the play goes to lengths to sharpen the contrast between Jekyll and Hyde, a trend which would continue down the decades, allowing for Jekyll to be more socially active and Hyde's evil to be more random in its cruelty. The play also introduced women to the narrative and allowed for Hyde's depravity to include sexual violence. The original novella lacked any sexual motivation for Hyde and Stevenson outright denied that Hyde's "unspecified crimes" included sexual violence.

The other major change between the play and the book is that the lead actor, Richard Mansfield, insisted on playing the dual role. In fact the play was commissioned specifically to allow him this opportunity.

To quote a review in The Times (August 6th, 1888)

There is but little scope for acting in what has been described as Mr. Stevenson's "psychological study." As applied to the dramatic version of Mr. Stevenson's book, the accuracy of the word "psychological" is open to question. There is no transfusion of thought or character between "Dr. Jekyll" and "Mr. Hyde." In look, dress, and action they are wholly distinct individuals; and Mr. Mansfield's appearances, now in the one part and now in the other, involve no more psychology than the "business" of a "quick-change artiste" in the music-halls. There is much more psychology, for example, in Mr. Irving's impersonation of Mathias in The Bells, where the conscience-stricken burgomaster leads a double life - one in the society of his family and friends, the other in the solitude of his chamber. But except in the hands of a master, psychology is of small account on the stage, which deals much more effectively with the cardinal passions. It is with no regret that we note the absence of the psychological element from the dramatic version of "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde."

In the book the transformation was a physical change that allowed for Henry to act without repression allowing for an exploration into the psyche of an individual caught between actions which one can look at themselves in the mirror performing and those which they simply cannot accept as part of themselves.

In the play the transformation still plays out but it is one man acting both parts and using the weight of performance to mark them as separate characters. A transformation between good and evil spurred on by the elixir. As it was the first major adaption, however, the transformation was not displayed in light until the third act, allowing the twist and its shock to be preserved.

But still an act before the finale.

With every adaption, it seems, the contrast between Henry and Edward's good and evil sharpened and more and more of the audience entered the fiction armed with the knowledge of the transformation.

The gap grew wider.

As the elements changed the story became less about the war of desires versus reputation within a single man and more about a paragon divide between good and evil. A divide which allowed Henry to become more philanthropic and Edward to become more depraved. The further from the original we drifted the more wholly divided the parts of Jekyll became.

The play itself was a success and as noted all subsequent adaptations of the material would go on to focus on the chronological telling of events with the good doctor and his evil alter ego as the central figures, often dismissing Gabriel Utterson from the narrative entirely.

But there is one other element at play.

(if this were the video essay I'd dreamed it as then this would be where I snuck in a clip from Murder, Murder from the Jekyll and Hyde musical)

In 1888 a series of murders caught the public's attention. Known colloquially as The Whitechapel Murders these crimes are more well known in association with the legend surrounding the suspect Jack The Ripper.

The 11 murders carried out between 1888 and 1891 are a crime and a tragedy that truly did occur in the streets of London. With all the cartoon representations of Spring Heeled Jack, the walking tours and the general romantic gothic ethos that has prevailed through history it is important to remember that.

Particularly as the lasting sensationalism from late 1800s London still carries lingering sentiments in the public psyche.

The first of the Whitechapel murders occurred on August 7th 1888. 3 days after the play opened in the Lyceum Theatre.

The press of the time were quick to jump upon the similarities. The Irish Times in September of 1888 were quick to make the moral accusations, decrying Hyde's depiction as murdering for the fun of the thing. The article, linked above, takes great glee in crafting a comparison when none had existed and in time the association caught on.

Enough that Richard Mansfield himself was suspected of being the murderer in question.

Days after the Irish Times story the following was published in The Star

“MEANWHILE,” writes an eccentric correspondent, “you, and every one of the papers, have missed the obvious solution of the Whitechapel myst-ery. The murderer is a Mr Hyde, who seeks in the repose and comparative respectability of Dr Jekyll security from the crimes he commits in his baser shape. Of course, the lively imaginations of your readers will at once supply certain means of identification for the Dr Jekyll whose Mr Hyde seems daily growing in ferocious intensity. If he should turn out to be a statesman engaged in the harmless pursuit of golf at North Berwick - well, you, sir, at least, will be able gratefully to remember that you have prepared your readers for the shock of the inevitable discovery.”

Another went as far as to claim that the victims being women was enough to link it to the character from Stevenson's book, a book which lacked female characters or victims.

The fact that a woman was the victim in each case, and that she was poor, takes away the suspicion of robbery and suggests some unutterably fiendish motive such as that which is supposed to animate the mystical character of Hyde in Mr Stevenson’s book. When the devilish nature of Hyde was pictured in the novel nobody could believe that his prototype could be found in real life. These atrocities and apparently cause-less murders show that there is abroad at the present time in the East End a human monster even more terrible than Hyde.

(source of these quotes and a far more detailed analysis of the Mansfield/Jack connection, please read The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Saucy Jacky by Alan Sharp)

The legend had shifted and the idea of Hyde had been solidified in the public consciousness and forever linked with the murders within Whitechapel.

In adaptation these days Edward Hyde is depicted as wearing a big long black coat, a top hat and a cane and coincidentally the vision of Jack the Ripper in the public perception has followed a similar path.

It was only in adaptations where Jekyll and Hyde shared an actor that they also shared a sense of style and the disguise had to take a certain gentleman dressed in shadow approach.

The original book makes a big point of Henry's attire being different from Hyde's as their size difference is enough that during the unexpected transformations they must fashion a way to look presentable. Lanyon describes Hyde's attire as "the trousers hanging on his legs and rolled up to keep them from the ground, the waist of the coat below his haunches, and the collar sprawling wide upon his shoulders."

Yet the public perception had found a tidy visualization of Hyde and the visualization of an unknown killer shared that same picture.

And so too was the concept of "dual personalities" linked with murderous intention.

Thus was born the murder alter.

In other Media, Myself and I entries I have worked hard to avoid murder alters. In our very first essay we opened with a passage noting that we wished for positive depictions of dissociative disorders in fiction. Breaking that rule today is a matter of understanding why so many pieces of fiction tend to lean so heavily on the idea of an evil alter ego who kills "for the joy of it".

Because as Jekyll and Hyde's adaptations became more influenced by the culture surrounding their own reception within the public canon, so too did the inspirations take leaps and bounds.

The concept of duality and split personalities was in the public consciousness and focused entirely on the concepts of Good and Evil.

But that only introduced the concept to the public psyche. Even with the links and public fascination with Hyde and Jack the Ripper it was still a matter which existed only in the public's collective imagination.

It was in 1957 when Ed Gein was convicted of a number of violent and horrific crimes that the conversation and assumption become twisted into the stigma that we all endure today. Gein was sentenced to life in a mental institution after being declared unfit for trial by reason of his schizophrenia diagnosis.

His crimes and life were scrutinized and sensationalized at the time and used heavily as inspiration for a number of thrillers including and most famously the novel Psycho by Robert Bloch and its movie adaptation by Alfred Hitchcock and the character of Buffalo Bill in both book and movie versions of The Silence of the Lambs.

The titular "Psycho" from the movie and novel, Norman Bates, is revealed to have an alter personality modeled after his mother who murders any women who get close to him and Buffalo Bill is a serial killer who wishes to become a woman by kidnapping young women and taking their skin.

Both characters would go on to contribute a lot of stigma to both the mentally ill and those who exist outside of the gender binary.

and... that's just sad. Obviously we know that not every person who experiments with clothing outside of their rigidly state assigned gender allocation will have murderous intention. That's absurd.

An often underlooked line in Silence of the Lambs regarding Bill's gender is Clarice noting "Dr. Lecter, there's no correlation in the literature between transsexualism and violence. Transsexuals are very passive."

Ignoring the over simplification and generalization, it speaks against a public perception of AMAB transgender individuals. The stigma claims that trans women are prone to violent and displays of sexual aggression but the reality does not correspond with this perception at all.

The same is true of those with mental illness, especially when associated with childhood trauma.

Though Psycho does not include a throwaway line that makes him out to be an outlier, the story does depict him forming the evil "Mother" personality through the abuse of his own possessive and controlling mother wanting to keep him away from any other women.

Even in the midst of the stigmatizing depiction they were able to show Norman being meek enough to "never hurt a fly" and having been pacified by the abuse he received at his mother's hands.

The fact is that those with dissociative disorders are known to be far more likely to be the victims of violent crime than the perpetrators.

People with these conditions often had to endure horrible mistreatment, neglect and abuse at the hands of those who were supposed to care for them and that society lets us down by holding these violent and dangerous stereotypes is simply inexcusable.

Even those who have alters capable and willing to use violence, they are formed through self-preservation and do not act "for the fun of the thing" as the Irish Times correspondent put it, much of their violence is turned inwards or used to ward off people and prevent them getting close.

Another highly publicized case that adds to the stigma pool is that of Billy Milligan, convicted in 1975 and formally diagnosed with dissociative identity disorder, his life and story have been directly adapted several times, including the infamously stigmatizing Split. Airing this year is a TV adaptation of Milligan's life starring Tom Holland.

It's clear the fascination and assumptions are still well and truly alive. Fact is the murder alter is likely not going to go away anytime soon. It is far too useful a narrative crutch for crime stories where a suspect does not even realize they are the guilty party and though there are only a small number of high profile cases, they have latched on to the public's imagination and been adapted multiple times with those adaptations inspiring further stories.

It's why we need good representation. It's why we want to highlight that good representation as much as we can.

-

Media, Myself and I is a series of Tumblr posts I make to highlight good representation of dissociative disorders in fiction. I do not claim to be the best at academia or research but I care deeply about the topic.

Originally I was going to use the Jekyll/Hyde stuff to build up to the only murder alter I respect but I think we can wait for another day to hear her laughing wav.

Please scroll the tag if you'd like to see more or click on any of the below essays:

Discworld and Plurality Incidental, intentional and accidental representation Gender, Dissociation and Clinical Stigma in The Third Person Recontextualized Memories in Umineko Derealization in Night in the Woods and Metal Gear Solid The Dangers of Hypnotic Personality Play in Penlight System Origins in The Incredible Hulk Relationships with Systems in The Incredible Hulk The Healing Journey in Mr. Robot

Thank you for reading.

[1moreff-creator]

Happy Birthday Teruko Tawaki!

It's the protag's turn for a birthday post! You know what that means! Small character analysis, fun facts and songs that remind me of her! Let's celebrate! Just make sure to bring out the fire extinguisher before lighting any candles... actually just keep the extinguisher handy in general :v

-Being the protagonist of the series, we actually know quite a lot about her backstory. Enough to know it's quite sad in general terms. This is because she appears to have supernaturally horrendous luck, which she claims affects her and those around her. She's mentioned several instances of highly unlikely, unlucky situations she gets into constantly. From washing machine explosions, vehicles crashing, theaters being "too flammable" for her, all the way to being stuck in a killing game where she gets betrayed, stabbed, her friends die, etc.

-She's an orphan who's never known her parents. She had a brother who was compassionate, but constantly hurt by her misfortune. That brother got adopted when Teruko was around five, and she's never seen him since.

-She doesn't have an ID, which meant she had to attend schools by stealing uniforms and infiltrating them. She then usually gets caught and repeats the process several times a year. She is also in a lot of medical debt as a result of her constant injuries. Given all of this, she actually prefers living trapped in the killing game, though obviously she'd rather not have people killing each other around her.

CW Suicide

-That said, it seems her luck prevents her from dying. She told Xander that she wouldn't die because she was the Ultimate Lucky Student, and it was implied she's unsuccessfully attempted suicide by hanging.

CW over

-This misfortune has led her to develop a tremendously pessimistic view of the world and her life, believing her fate can't be changed and resigning herself to her bad luck.

-This also extends to her relationships. She tried to be amicable at the beginning of the killing game, but after Xander stabbed her, she decided to stop trusting everyone else. She now carries around her unique weapon, a hunting knife, for self-defense. This is a pretty understandable reaction given everything she's gone through, but it will inevitably go wrong (prediction).

-Her numeral in the David MV is unlucky number 13 (XIII). Go to 1:22:20 on this video for an explanation!

-The secret quote on her page's source code is "It is an equal failing to trust everybody, and to trust no one at all." Probably something she'll say in the final trial, given that this is one of the main messages the series seems to be aiming for.

-The quote on Mai's page attached to Teruko is "Some years ago, she was searching for someone named ‘Teruko Tawaki.’"

...

-Yeah, Teruko's relationship with Mai is one of the most mysterious parts of this series. Given that quote, it's very possible they knew each other several years before the killing game, got separated, and reunited some time before the killing game. After all, Teruko does remember meeting with Mai in the CH 1 Ep 6 dream sequence. If you want to read some of my other opinions on Teruko and Mai, I'll recommend reading the related portion of this post.

-Though adding to that, Teruko and Mai seem to have matching phone charms :D

-There is a lot more to talk about with Teruko, but I'm done for the day :v

Fun facts!

-Her nationality is "legally in question", whatever that means.

-She's left-handed, the only lefty in the cast!

-In kanji, her name is spelt 田脇【た ・ わき】暁子【て る ・ こ】

-She has prosopagnosia, aka face blindness. And fun fact about me, I actually have this too! I may have learnt about it when Teruko was a bit too relatable in that one conversation-

-Her favorite color is red due to "association." Possibly because it's Mai's hair color. Her least favorite color is pitch black because it's unsettling.

-Her hair recently started turning grey, probably from stress. Wild.

-Her favorite ice cream flavor is red bean.

-Her sexuality is unlabeled.

-She smells of dirt, sawdust, and burnt smell.

-Straight from a Q&A, "Her fashion sense diverges from what she’d actually wear. Secretly she wants to wear girly, cute things, but is unable to afford that kind of thing. She likes skirts."

-She likes fresh food, food which can be prepared without endangering herself with knives and stoves.

-Her birthday, January 7th, lands on "distaff day", "I am a mentor day", "old rock day", "bobblehead day"... still don't know how these come about. I think my favorite for this day is "I'm not going to take it anymore day." That's hilariously in character for Teruko xD

Songs!

-Again by Crusher-P

-The Things I Deserve by Ghost & Pals

-God-ish by Pinocchio P

-The Medical Anomaly by RIProducer

-End-World Normopathy by Ghost & Pals

-Scapeg∞at by Ghost & Pals

-Chronic Wasting Disease by RIProducer

-Those Who Carried On by Ghost & Pals

And Happy Birthday! Well, that was fun. Now I have to deal with the meteorite which struck me midway through writing this post! Take care!

(to be clear the meteorite thing is a joke)

[the-guilty-writer]

The Big Game and Revelations

Agent Rossi-Reid

Anthology Masterlist

David Rossi x daughter!reader,  Spencer Reid x reader, Criminal minds x BAU!reader

Summary: A fun night out with the team turns into a case, which turns into a disaster, which turns into Rossi-Reid’s own personal Hell.

A/N: Ah, yes… this one should be interesting and after the Super Bowl I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. I did try to get this out on the night of the Super Bowl but I fell asleep trying to finish it. I think it was worth the extra week it took to write it though.

CW: Rewrite of S2E14 and E15 so it’s heavy, very minor suicidal idealation.

---

You were actually excited about the Super Bowl this year for one reason and one reason only… 

The Chicago Bears were playing.

And you had a bet with Derek Morgan. The two of you had pooled a week's worth of paperwork each… and the loser had to do all of it.

Of course Derek had his love for Chicago and team spirit on his side.

But you had Peyton Manning.

And Spencer Reid.

Before placing the bet, you had pulled up all the statistics and you and your husband spent your day off deciding mathematically, who would be the most likely to win Super Bowl XLI. Ultimately, the formula that Spencer had come up with predicted the Colts would come out on top. The next day you didn't hesitate to challenge Morgan, and with his competitive spirit and hometown honor on the line, he couldn't resist the bet.

A hopeful blow to Morgan's ego wasn't the only reason you had wagered with him, though. With a whole week of paperwork off your plate, you'd be able to take the Friday after Valentine's day off so you and Spencer could take a mini vacation.

Spencer knew this was the plan the moment you'd given him the stack of papers filled with player stats. He was looking forward to it too.

The entire team, with the exception of Gideon, was at a local bar. You and Spencer were sitting at a table with a few people you'd met, Spencer impressing them with his extensive knowledge of Star Trek. Morgan was on the dance floor, Penelope was shamelessly watching him, JJ was kicking ass at darts. You saw Prentiss bringing drinks toward a table, noticing that Hotch had even brought Haley for the occasion. Quietly, you excused yourself to go say hi to them.

Besides, it was good for Spencer to be left without you sometimes. The last few cases you’d spent more time with other members of the team. Part of that had to do with the nature of the cases, but part of it also had to do with the fact that Gideon had asked you to watch over Emily. You weren’t sure if it was as Agent Gideon who trusted your evaluation of another agent's abilities, or Uncle Jason who knew that you really needed more friends; but it meant that you’d worked with her on a few consults and even been paired together on a case.

The shift in dynamics had forced a shift in Spencer. You could see that slowly, but surely, the confidence in him at work was growing, and you loved to see it. It was in the little ways he would tease Morgan back now, or that he didn’t hesitate to bother Prentiss while she was in the middle of paperwork. Even though the ordeal with Nathan Harris had been tragic, watching Spencer take a role of someone older and wiser, yet still compassionate and still himself, showed you how much he had grown since you’d first met him.

“How are they treating you at the BAU, Emily?” You heard Haley say as you approached them.

“She means, am I being nice to you?” Hotch said.

“Actually, everyone has been incredibly nice.” Emily smiled.

“I think it’d be nice if the boss covered all our drinks tonight,” you said as you walked up beside Emily.

Haley laughed and Hotch cracked a smile. “For everyone but you, (Y/N),” he said.

You faked offense, bringing a hand to your chest before turning to the Hotchner. You knew she always got a kick out of your theatrics. “Haley, do you see how he treats me?”

Haley laughed again. “You be nice to her,” she scolded Hotch playfully. He pouted and she laughed again. “I swear you two bicker like siblings.”

Hotch was about to say something when Garcia interrupted. “Look at him move.” The 'him' in question was Morgan, and the move in question was… questionable. He hadn’t even noticed the Bears had lost. “He’s like a cat.”

“More like a dog!” You and Emily said at the same time. Both of you grinned. Gideon had truly created a monster by making the two of you work together.

“He did not ask them to dance. They asked him,” Garcia defended.

“Okay,” Emily said. “Okay, he’s a cat.”

“An alley cat,” Haley commented. You nodded in agreement.

“Come on, Haley, let’s go show them how it’s done,” Hotch said as he grabbed her hand.

“I’m game if you are!” Haley looked at you as Hotch led her away. You faked a retch, making her giggle.

“That’s so sweet!” Emily sighed a bit.

“It gets a little gross after twelve years,” you told her. “Especially when I had to listen to him pin nonstop for the first two years they dated… "Oh I never thought she’d love me, why do I have to go on a case for twenty four hours away from my love, oh why, why, why’…” You tried your best to mock young Hotch in love.

“So you and Reid won’t be gross in another eight years?” Emily asked.

You watched Hotch spin Haley around on the dancefloor, both of them simply enjoying the presence of one another. The way they moved with one another had nothing to do with acts of lust (unlike Morgan who was… being Morgan), and everything to do with knowing a person inside and out. Hotch leaned in to whisper something to Haley and she threw her head back with laughter. Her laugh made him smile.

In all the years you had known Aaron Hotchner, no one could make him smile like Haley Brooks did.

“Maybe a little,” you said, just low enough that no one could hear you over the music.

“Hey,” JJ said as she approached from behind. You could already tell by the tone in her voice what was coming next.

“We have a case, don’t we?” you said.

JJ sighed. “Yes. We do.”

---

The case was odd, to say the least. With so much evidence, the team should have been able to put a profile together easily, but things just weren’t adding up. The religious obsession combined with the technology, the dominant and submissive team dynamics that weren’t constant, the obvious organization with, what seemed to you to be, a disorganized system.

You were out in the field with Morgan when you got the text that there was another crime scene. Morgan was on the phone with Garcia. “Yeah, baby girl. Tell him we’re on our way.” He whipped the car around. 

When you arrived on the scene, you got straight to work, but just like before, nothing seemed to make sense. The religious ramblings were beginning to irritate you. You understood them enough, but you didn’t have extensive knowledge on different analysis on the passages over the centuries or know the actual wording in Latin like Spencer did. But Spencer wasn’t anywhere to be found.

“Hotch,” you called to him. “Where’s Spence?”

“I sent him and JJ to go interview someone who might know something,” Hotch told you. The vagueness of it all told you that it was probably nothing- that it was a stretch.

But hours later, the distress on Hotch’s face and the strain to keep his voice steady made it obvious to you that it wasn’t a stretch. “Hankle?”

“Hotch, what is it?” Morgan’s voice was filled with concern as well.

But when Hotch answered, he wasn’t looking at Morgan, he wasn’t looking at Gideon or Emily; he was looking at you. “JJ and Reid went to interview him. He’s the unsub.”

---

The drive to the unsub’s house was a chaotic collage of names and tactical plans, of kevlar and lights and sirens. But you hardly remembered any of it. Your mind was on Spencer.

There was always a chance that he and JJ were fine; that they realized he was the unsub and parked out of cell service, waiting for the rest of you to arrive. But there was also a chance that they weren’t fine.

When you arrived on scene, your brain kicked into a different gear- it wasn’t wife gear, but it also wasn’t Agent Rossi gear. It was a strange inbetween that you had never felt before- a collected calm caused by panic. You went with Morgan and Prentiss to the barn, only to find yourself on the wrong side of JJ’s sidearm.

“JJ,” Morgan called. “It’s Morgan, Rossi, and Prentiss. Don’t shoot.” JJ lowered her gun and Morgan did the same, approaching her. “It’s okay. Are you hurt?”

You approached JJ alongside your other two team members. Your mind was cloudy and clear at the same time, your body shaky but still. In JJ’s frazzled state she continued to talk, ignoring Morgan’s question- the one you wanted to know the answer to- where was your husband?

When Prentiss got her to slow down, telling you that they had split up and Reid took the back, you didn’t hesitate to follow Morgan out into the cornfield. There were obvious signs that someone had been dragged and then the trail stopped. You could see it in your head like a nightmare- Spencer being drug through the vegetation and thrown into the back of a vehicle.

Somehow you ended up in the house with the rest of the team, hearing, but not truly listening to what they were saying. You stood at the window, the flashing blue and red lights highlighting the streaks in the grass. The whole world was slow and blurry, but not from tears; it was from shock. You recalled the first time you ever got shot- it wasn’t bad, but the sudden impact of the bullet and the instantaneous pain that followed made it feel as though your brain had disconnected from your body. But that sensation had ended in a few minutes… this one felt never ending. That was, until, Gideon asked the question.

“Where’s Reid?”

“Gone,” you answered before Morgan could.

Your head came back to you, the shakiness of your hands stopping, something building inside you like a dormant volcano- destined to explode, but no one would see the signs until it was too late. You looked at the team. They were lined up in a semicircle, each of them looking at you with a different adverse emotion- Morgan, resentment; Prentiss, pity; Hotch, anxiety; Gideon, disbelief; and JJ; guilt.

“Spencer’s gone.”

---

You didn’t sleep that night, but Morgan was adamant that you take breaks, drink water, and provided you with many gentle squeezes on the shoulder when he walked by. Prentiss sat down with you and together, the two of you began unpacking the journals before going through them. She was less about sympathetic looks and more about action. It was a good combination for you at the moment.

The rest of the team on the other hand was… Well, JJ avoided you at all costs. Gideon didn’t actively avoid you, but he couldn’t seem to look at you and when you spoke he always left the room. Hotch up and left- driving all the way back to DC to get Garcia and then all the way back. He could have had any other agent do it, but he did it himself. You weren’t sure if it was because he didn’t trust anyone at the moment, or if it was because he needed to run.

When Gideon got the call that Hotch and Garcia were on their way, all of you gathered in the room downstairs, surrounded by boxes and journals and things that would hopefully lead you to finding Doctor Reid. That’s how you had to think of him right now; not as Spencer, your husband, of Agent Reid, your colleague, but of Doctor Reid- just some smart guy with three PhDs. You knew that it was distancing yourself from the situation, but you couldn’t help it. If that’s what you had to do, you would do it.

“Welcome to our nightmare,” JJ said as Garica walked through the door.

It might just be a nightmare to you, but it’s worse than Hell for me. You swallowed your anger and told the voice at the back of your head to shut up. You had a job to do. She shouldn’t have let them split up.

Morgan and Garcia got started in the room full of computers, JJ went to take a break, and Gideon and Emily went to do some more searching upstairs. You sat down at the table and went through more of the journals. The entries weren’t long, but there were a lot of them.

Spencer would get through these in less than an hour.

“(Y/N),” the voice was strong, but more gentle than you were used to. “You should take a break.”

“I don’t need a break, Hotch,” you told him, looking up to meet his unblinking eyes for just a second.

He didn’t argue. He knew better. “I’ll be back to check in later.”

You went back to the journals.

---

Night had fallen and it felt like you were no closer to finding Doctor Reid than you had been when the sun rose. Most of the journals were religious ramblings, and Garcia was working as hard as she could on the computer system, but it still wasn’t matching up. The profile was still a mess. The whole thing was a mess.

“Rossi,” Morgan said. You didn’t respond. He plucked the journal out of your hand. 

“Morgan-”

“I’m going to check the perimeter.”

“Okay?”

“Come with me,” he said.

You hesitated. “Okay, lead the way.”

You followed Morgan out of the house and into the night. He walked ahead of you, flashlight in hand. You had to admit that the fresh air was relieving, helping clear any residual fog from your brain. You scanned the sides of the house, the broken boards that needed to be repaired, the roof that needed new shingles, and the gutter full of leaves. Your eyes trailed downward, landing on something strange, something new…

“Morgan!” You called. You jogged over to the cellar doors, drawing your sidearm on the way.

Morgan ran up next to you. “Hey guys, I think we’ve got something!”

Hotch and Prentiss were quick to join you. No words needed to be spoken- Hotch would go in first, then Morgan, and you and Prentiss would stand guard outside. The two men entered the cellar, glocks drawn. You listened carefully, but you couldn’t quite make out all their words.

When Hotch and Morgan came out of the cellar, both of them looked disturbed.

“Anything?” Emily asked.

“We found Hankle’s father,” Hotch said. “He’s dead.”

---

It felt like time was moving at the speed of light and standing still all at the same time. You continued to be able to catch small bits of information- JJ and Prentiss were going to look into Hankle’s Narcotics Anonymous meetings, Hankle’s father had been dead for six months, Garcia was making progress on the computer system- making the day fly by and slow down all at the same time. Around noon, your brain failed you and you fell asleep at the table for just a few hours. By the time you’d woken up, the rest of the team had figured out that Hankle was living as three different people and he had a serious drug problem.

You sat in the room full of screens with Garcia, feeling absolutely like the most useless agent in the world. Of course all the progress had been made while you were asleep. You were hardly paying attention to what Morgan and Garcia were talking about when you heard Penlope’s signature “Oh my god,” and looked over to the screens.

For the past twenty four hours all you’d wanted was to see Spencer- but not like this. Never like this.

You gathered around the computers with the rest of the team, trying to keep your face as still as possible. You wanted so badly to be able to focus on what was going on- analyze the situation, the words, the background, in an effort to find out where Spencer was, but your mind couldn’t work. Not while watching this.

Then the feed cut- all the screens going blank- and any hope of finding evidence to rescue your husband was gone. You heard Morgan punch the door as he stormed out of the room. The sound brought you back to reality, and you followed him out of the room.

“Morgan,” you called to him, but he kept walking, all the way out onto the front porch and into the front yard. “Morgan!”

You and Morgan were both known to have hot heads when things got personal and rageful, but your emotions came out in loud and painful words; Morgan’s came out in kicking down doors and breaking down walls. You just stood and watched as he took a piece of wood that was laying in the yard and smashed it down on the ground, causing it to splinter into pieces. His back heaved with heavy breathing, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d be scared of him. But you did know better.

“Derek,” it was more gentle this time, and the other agent turned around to look at you. The fury and frustration now replaced with an expression of agony.

He walked up to you quietly, shaking his head just a bit. “How are you doing this, Rossi?”

You closed your eyes tight, and tears pricked at the corners. The pure pain in Morgan’s voice finally causing all the pent up emotion inside to come out. “I’m not,” you admitted.

Spencer had been in plenty of dangerous situations before- stuck in an ER with a known killer, on a train with a psychotic man with a gun, in a mansion with a bomb- but this was the first time he was somewhere completely alone. You trusted that Hotch and Elle and Morgan would help protect him.

But no one could protect him now.

Every feeling you had shoved inside came out at once, and you collapsed in a fit of sobs. Morgan caught you before you could hit the ground, pulling you so tight to his chest you almost couldn’t breath. You cried so hard it hurt- it hurt your head and your eyes and your chest and your heart. Morgan was whispering something to you, but you couldn’t hear him over the explosion of emotion you were experiencing.

When the dam gates closed and the tears stopped flowing, you gently pushed Morgan away and wiped your eyes. “I need to help get him home.”

“Then let’s bring him home.”

---

It felt strange that the team was inhabiting the house of a killer- eating at his table, using his bathrooms, sleeping on his couch- but sometimes to get in the mind of an unsub, you had to do strange things. One of those strange things was using his appliances, including his coffee maker. The entire team was running off caffeine, and you were no exception. Just as you turned the corner towards the kitchen, you heard voices, and paused.

“It’s funny,” JJ said. You didn’t think anything about this was funny. “I keep thinking, the one thing we need to crack this case is uh… well, Reid.”

You wanted to scream.

“Yeah,” Morgan responded quietly.

“You think Reid and I should have stayed together at the barn, don’t you?”

Everything in you wanted to walk into the room and confront JJ… tell her upfront that they should have stayed together and it was her fault that Spencer was missing. But you couldn’t move.

“JJ, go get some rest.” You could hear Morgan’s exhaustion… but you could also hear his anger.

“I can tell that’s what you’re thinking so-”

“I just wanna get Reid home safe.”

“But if I had his back like I was supposed to, he’d be here now.” The defense in JJ’s voice made your blood boil.

“JJ, what do you want from me?”

“I just… I want someone to tell me the truth!”

“The truth is one of you is here and one of you isn’t,” Morgan said, frustration coming through. “You gotta figure the rest out for yourself.” He walked toward where you were standing, just out of sight. When he saw you, he didn’t say anything. He just looked at you with sympathy before walking away.

You walked into the kitchen, avoiding looking at JJ as you made your way to the coffee pot. It was empty. You stared at the pot as it brewed, then poured it into your empty mug, not bothering to wait until it was cool before taking a sip. Maybe if you burned your tongue you could keep yourself from saying rageful words. You went to leave the kitchen when-

“(Y/N)?” JJ said.

You shut your eyes tight for a moment and turned, looking at the blonde, but not saying anything.

“What?” You shook your head slightly, keeping your face as straight as possible.

“I-” JJ swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

You looked down and took a deep breath. “Don’t apologize to me.” You looked JJ dead in the eye, holding yourself in as much control as possible. “Apologize to Spencer.”

Without another word, you turned and left; not feeling any better, but not feeling any worse.

---

You continued working with Prentiss. Hotch and Gideon were working together- an oddity. But so was a member of the team getting kidnapped. There was a sudden sound of shock coming from the room filled with computers. You and Prentiss both shot up from your seats and quickly filed into the room where the rest of the team was staring at the screens.

Spencer’s chair had fallen over, and he laid on the floor, unmoving. You’d seen enough people who were sleeping, dead, or dying to know the difference, even on a screen. And Spencer was dead.

You’d had this nightmare before, and in every single one you instantly crumbled to the ground in a fit of sobs, fighting whoever tried to touch you or calm you down. In your nightmares, the grief was so overwhelming it robbed your body of air until your head was so light that you couldn’t think- as if your body’s survival response to such overwhelming sadness was to make it so you couldn’t think long enough to be sad at all.

But now that it was real, all you could do was stand there- eyes glued to the screen, mouth slightly agape, blood draining from your face. The feeling was impossibly numb. Your mind not processing anything, refusing to believe what you were seeing. There was no survival response to overwhelming sadness; because all the will you had to survive was gone.

You remembered a quote from Dante’s Inferno- the one book Spencer had ever made you read to him since the original was in Italian- “L’inferno e freddo”: Hell is cold.

And you were frozen.

“Guys.” You heard the voice, but your brain was still in a state of limbo. Only the sudden appearance of a man on the screen, giving Spencer CPR, was enough to snap your body from the frost.

And then Spencer was alive.

Your vision blurred as your eyes watered, relief filling your body. But it was only temporary. The next thing you knew, Hankle was speaking.

“Choose one to die.”

“What?” You weren’t sure if Spencer was still in shock from dying and coming back to life, or if he was truly asking.

“Your team members,” Hankle said. “Choose one to die.”

“Kill me,” the words came out of Spencer's mouth like a plea.

Spencer, no. Your chest tightened, your breathing taught. Just say a name, Spencer. Please don’t give yourself up to him.

“You said you weren’t one of them.”

“I lied,” Spencer said. It didn’t matter thought- the math worked somehow.

“The team has seven members. Tell me who dies.”

Just say a name, Spencer… any name.

“No.”

Hankle pulled Reid’s revolver from his pocket, pointing it straight at your husband’s forehead. “Choose, and prove you’ll do God’s will.”

“No.” Hankle pulled the trigger. The chamber was empty. A tear streamed down your cheek.

“Choose.”

“I won’t do it,” Spencer’s voice was barely audible over the video feed.

Another trigger pull, another empty chamber.

“Life is a choice.”

“No.”

Choose to live, Spence.

Trigger. Empty chamber.

“Choose.”

“I…” This time Spencer was slower to answer. He was going to choose. He had to choose. If he didn’t, he was dead. “I choose Aaron Hotchner.”

The entire room seemed to become still with shock for a moment, before everyone turned to look at Hotch- you included. The expression on his face wasn’t hurt, or at least you didn’t think so. Hotch had been so avoidant of you the past 48 hours that you weren’t sure that you could read him in this situation. He continued to watch the screen, but you continued to look at his expression.

“He's a classic narcissist,” Reid explained Hotch’s sin. “He thinks he's better than everyone else on the team.”

The wheels turned in your head, and as Hotch furrowed his brow, you could see that the wheels were turning in his head as well. He left the room quickly, and you followed after him. Hotch grabbed the Bible sitting on the table, flipping through it rapidly. You didn’t ask why.

The rest of the team filtered into the room and Hotch looked up. “I’m not a narcissist,” he said. It wasn’t defensive. You’d seen Hotch defensive before, and it was nothing like this.

“Come on,” Gideon started. “Look, you can't think anything from that. He’s not in his right mind-”

“No, stop, stop,” Hotch cut Gideon off and looked around at the rest of the team. “All right, everybody right now- what's my worst quality?”

Silence.

None of you wanted to answer that question. 

“Okay, I’ll start,” Hotch said. “I have no sense of humor.”

“You’re a bully,” JJ said quietly.

“I’m a bully,” Hotch agreed.

“You can be a drill sergeant sometimes,” Morgan said, avoiding eye contact.

“Right.”

“You don't trust women as much as men,” Prentiss said boldly. You wondered how long she’d been wanting to say that.

Then Hotch turned to you, meeting your gaze for the first time since Spencer had gone missing.

“You avoid difficult emotions,” you told him. “Instead of confronting them.”

“Okay, good.” Hotch kept his eyes on you for a moment before turning back to everyone else. “I’m all these things, but none of you said that I ever put myself above the team, because I don't, ever.” That was true. It always had been. “Reid and I argued about the definition of classic narcissism, and he knew that I would remember that, and he also quoted genesis, chapter 23, verse 4. Read it.”

JJ read the verse outloud. There was more discussion about narrowing down where Spencer might be. You hung onto every word, but you had just called Hotch out on something that you were doing yourself. You’d been burying yourself in work to avoid dealing with the terror and the pain that stirred inside you.

So instead of fighting to let you be in your normal point position when the team raided the cabin, you stayed at the back with JJ. Instead of avoiding her, you worked next to her in silence; both of you sharing a silent and desperate hope that Spencer was okay- that he was alive. When the team spread out, you stuck close to Prentiss, knowing you would need the support if something went awry and not being ashamed that, at the moment, you didn’t trust yourself to stay as steady as you needed to be.

And when Hotch helped Spencer to his feet, you let the tears stream down your cheeks. Holstering your gun, you let yourself go entirely- the relief crashing through your body. You breathed heavily, the cold air causing condensation to form. Morgan put a hand on your arm to keep you upright, and you let him.

You allowed the thoughts that had flooded your mind for the past two days to rise to the surface; that Morgan was probably the only other person in the world who shared what you were feeling right now- disappointment in Hotch for letting Reid and JJ go off in the middle of nowhere on their own, resentment about Gideon nearly getting Spencer killed, and rage at JJ because this never would have happened if one of you were with him instead.

“(Y/N),” Spencer’s voice as he said your name was barely a whisper, but to hear it in person made it real- it made everything real.

You pulled him into a hug, tears free flowing down your face. Spencer wrapped his arms around you tight, pulling you in so your bodies were as close as they could possibly be while standing upright. He buried his head in your shoulder. You leaned your face against the side of his head, pressing your cheek against his curls.

He let go of you slowly, as if you were the one thing keeping him tied to earth, your eyes locking only for a moment before Gideon walked over. You let Spencer lean on you, keeping his hurt foot off the ground.

“Let’s get you out of here,” Gideon said. “Come on.” Gideon went to support Spencer on the other side, helping him forward just a few steps before-

“Please.” Spencer looked at Gideon, but not at you. “Can I have a second alone?”

You looked at Spencer, but he didn’t look back at you, so instead you looked at your mentor. He gave Spencer a sympathetic look before locking eyes with you for just a second and walking away.

You let go of Spencer gently, your hands brushing before your bodies lost contact. He turned away without looking at you and began to limp towards Hankle’s body. You turned as well, looking over your shoulder as you walked. Prentiss was the one to help you this time- resting a gentle hand on your back to ground you.

You let her lead you back toward the SUVs, but you didn’t quite know where you were going; your mind was still full of Spencer. Then again, your mind was almost always full of Spencer- but not in this way. Never in this way.

“He’s going to be okay,” Emily said gently.

You let out a heavy breath. The clearing where the vehicles were parked was lit up by flashing colored lights. An ambulance had arrived, as had a coroner’s van. Officers were talking quietly, Hotch was pacing as he talked on the phone, JJ sat in the open trunk of an SUV staring out into the distance.

It was all over, but somehow you felt like things had only just began. 

“How do you know?” you asked her, breathing out as you did. It sounded helpless, but that was how you felt.

Emily put a hand on your shoulder, looking into your eyes. “Because,” she said- her voice was gentle, but her words were confident. “He has you.”

---

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[mymediacollection]

Yohan sees Issac wasting away because he saved Issac instead of Elijah.

TW/CW: suicide attempt, manipulation, unhealthy coping mechanisms, darkkkkkk af general warning, etc.

Yohan who tries to kill himself but times it exactly when Issac comes home, kicks over the stool noisily just as he hears Issac come up the stairs and...belatedly listens to Issac rushing to his room, bursting through the door and yelling, "Yohan!"

His hands are prone at his sides and his air is running out, he's turning purple and Issac is beneath him trying to hold him up but giving up all too soon. Yohan's vision blurs and he sees an Issac shaped blob race out the door before returning and the air knocks out of his lungs as he slams onto the floor.

Issac had cut the rope.

And Issac, his older brother, is sobbing, hitting him with fists that didn't really hurt, and screaming, "Not you too! You can't go and leave me behind! You can't leave me here, alone!"

It was such a different Issac from usual, the usual Issac that Yohan had seen after the church fire.

Barely eating, crying at night and of course, ignoring him for most, if not all day.

Yohan manages a smile, wrapping his arms around his hyung and whispers in a hoarse voice, sure to bring out the compassionate side in him that didn't want to lose his only remaining direct blood relative.

"I'm sorry, hyung... I'm so sorry."

But his eyes show a different story, his hands trembling, and his mouth wears a sly grin as he whispers of assurances that he'll always stay by his beloved hyung's side.

[with-love-from-hell]

Melancholia

{part Eight}

Fandom: Obey me!

Genre: Angst

Written for F!Mc

WC: ~2.1k

Music Accompaniment (The Bird and the Worm thru It's Been Awhile)

CW: heavy on the angst, similar to “replaced” au but with Simeon being “replaced”, depression, depictions of aggressive/violent thoughts, sexual intimacy implied, allusion to past sexual violence in Vermillion Skies, nightmare, vague illusion to torture. 

>> Though I have a Masters Degree in Psychology, I am not your therapist. If you have experienced any form of depression or suicidal thoughts, and are in need of help, please utilize the Suicide Prevention Lifeline, NIMH helpline, or the SAMHSA helpline. <<

You can find any future parts by searching the tag #Vermillion Skies or #Melancholia on my blog! I have added it to all parts!”

Series Masterlist

The next few days flew by quickly, for most- with the exception of Simeon. He watched from afar as those he once fostered closeness with existed in relative peace without him. He watched from the side as Luke and Mc joyfully rekindled their love of baking together, and saw Raphael becoming accepted with open arms by the demons in Devildom, while he was whispered about in the halls and mostly avoided. 

Simeon sighed, running a hand through his hair as he stared into the bathroom mirror. The jealousy and heartache was almost becoming too much to bear. It only worsened with the onset of classes, finding the workload and expectations of the Royal Academy were far beyond what he experienced as an exchange student. Part of him felt sympathy for the brothers for their continuous struggle with passing classes while Lucifer berated them for poor marks, but another part of him was furious in that they got to wallow in their pity together. Simeon gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to punch the mirror as the anger seeped into his soul. 

It appears that the price of love was a heavier burden to bear than he had anticipated. 

The weight was slung heavily over his hunched shoulders as he snaked around the crowded RAD hallway to his next class. He sat through Devildom History with complete disinterest, only focusing on staring at the back of Mc’s head a few rows in front of him. He scribbled mindlessly in his notebook as he watched the subtle movements of her body: the way she massaged the ache in her neck, the slight lean forward when the professor said something interesting, the gentle glide of her hand when she wrote something down, and the barely-audible tap of her pen on the desk when she was idly listening. 

It wasn’t the first time this week that she had preoccupied his thoughts, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

The dismissal from the professor meant their schedules aligned, and Simeon was hoping against all odds that Mc would agree to eat Lunch with him. After all, he had been isolated for so long, and this week had clearly been hellish for him...surely the compassionate MC would find it in her heart to accept his invitation. He stood outside the classroom, eager to confront her as she exited the room and walk with her to the dining hall. 

“Is there something you need?” A deep voice from behind made the slight, hopeful smile on his lips turn into a disdained frown. He turned his head just enough to see Lucifer approaching suavely, picnic basket, wine, and blanket in his arms. Simeon’s heart sank, dejection making the pit in his stomach grow quickly in size. The dignity of a response was sucked out of him, and he merely stared at the classroom doorway to ignore Lucifer’s presence. Lucifer narrowed his eyes, peaking in the room to see Mc talking to professor alone. 

“I was hoping to ask Mc about something.” Simeon murmured, now leaning his body against the frame. 

“Oh?” Lucifer inquired in suspicion, moving to stand opposite of Simeon. His eyes were dripping with aggressive intent, thinking he had made his statement on leaving his lover alone clear to him. “And what, pray tell, might that be?” 

Simeon scoffed, mumbling under his breath. “Hardly any of your damn business.” 

Lucifer scowled, his voice venomous. “I beg your pardon?” 

“I said I had to ask her about an assignment.” Simeon rolled his eyes, fighting back the shaking fists that threatened to form under Lucifer’s hard stare. “But it seems like she’s busy, so I’ll just-”

“Luci!”  Mc cooed in delight, latching onto Lucifer’s arm and pulling him down to plant a kiss on his cheek. 

Lucifer throws a satisfied smirk at Simeon before giving her a gentle hug in response. “Good afternoon, love. Ready to go?” 

Mc nods excitedly, intertwining her fingers with his. Just as they’re about to walk away, she notices Simeon standing there watching. She freezes, anxiety welling up in her stomach at the sight of his clenched fists and flat-lined expression. “Simeon? What’s the matter..?” 

“Nothing. I’ll just ask you about it later.” Simeon spat, unintentionally coming off to Mc as needlessly aggravated.

Mc looked between Simeon’s calloused expression and Lucifer’s watchful eyes, figuring they had just had a spat. She tried to smile, but the looming awkwardness betrayed her expression. “Okay, sure. I’ll see you later then.” 

Simeon nodded, watching from his peripherals as Lucifer and Mc strolled happily away. He felt his chest tighten, the urge to do horrid things to Lucifer crawling up into his consciousness as Simeon imagined the unholy things the brutish demon would do with her. Part of him felt insulted that Mc would choose such a man over him. Another part of him was jealous of Lucifer being able to enjoy the sins of the flesh with such an astonishing person. And a final part of him was angry that he was even thinking about such things after his talk with Mc. Why couldn’t he just let it go? 

Unfair. The word repeated itself in his mind. Fate truly has damned me to a life of pining for something that can never be. 

Simeon turned, arms crossed over his chest as if to stabilize himself as he fought the blended emotions racing through his head. Hopelessness plagued each thought, the reality of his loneliness coming to fruition in front of his eyes. He began to wonder if any of the other demons had felt this intensity of dejection before.

“She hasn’t really been doing much...just going throughout classes like normal.” Raphael paused, trying to think if he remembered anything recent. “Simeon has been hovering around her a lot though.” 

“How close has he been to her?” Michael asked curiously, now leaning forward in his chair. His interest in the human and Simeon’s relationship was piqued at the mere mention that they had rekindled a relationship. 

Raphael rubbed his forehead with his hand. “Uhh, not very, I guess? I mean, with Lucifer on her hip it’s kind of hard for him to get close. He’s like a guard dog. Even me coming over under the innocuous guise of catching up with him was seen as a threat. She was on his lap the entire time we talked.”

“Depravity.” Michael grumbled under his breath, anger rising in his chest at the mere thought of someone he once called a close friend engaging in such a disgraceful way. “I am shocked at how this seductress of a human had seemingly somehow snatched every individual in the devildom by the balls.” 

“Well, not everyone likes her.” Raphael noted, remembering hearing some demons wishing she had died a painful death as a result of a rumored assault. “It appears as though she means more than the world to the brothers though- and even the demon prince and his steward seem infatuated with her.” 

“What are your thoughts?” Michael posed the question curiously, wondering if Raphael had unknowingly been drawn in by her feminine wiles. “I’d like to hear your impression of her.”

“Hmm...” Raphael shrugged. “I’m not too convinced she’s anything special. I’m curious of what has even angels drawn to her, if anything. But otherwise she doesn’t seem that appealing.”

“And what of Luke’s relationship to the human?” 

Raphael paused. He swallowed hard, remembering how happy the small angel was to see the human. He talked about her so much when they were alone, you’d think the woman was his mother. “He seems to be- uh- somewhat fond of her.” 

Michael gritted his teeth, anger rising steadily higher at the traces of uncertainty in his agent’s voice. “How much is somewhat, Raphael? I do hope you aren’t hiding anything from me.” 

“He seems to enjoy her company, and talks highly of her...” Raphael paused upon hearing Michael’s heavy breath on the other end of the phone. “...but I doubt highly he values her over any fragment of the celestial realm- especially you, sir.” 

Michael scoffed. “Clearly you underestimate the power this human holds. If Lucifer and Simeon can fall for her faux charm- so much so that their entire being surrounds her- then I believe she could harbor ill intent toward the Celestial realm.” 

“I really don’t think-” 

“I don’t know exactly what she is planning, but we will end it before it begins. First though, we need evidence- and that is your sole job I pay you to do. Is that clear?” Michael growled into the phone, not letting Raphael finish his thoughts. 

After a pregnant pause, Raphael let out a sigh. “Crystal, sir.” 

Simeon shot straight up in a cold sweat. The pitch-black room seemed to spin before him as he came down from the adrenaline of the nightmare that plagued his sleep. He could still hear the screams of Mc clear as day as they reverberated into the recesses of his mind. He ran a hand through his hair, scanning the room to get some semblance of grounding before standing and rushing to the bathroom. 

The cool water that was splashed onto his face relieved the heat he felt under his skin, but did nothing to solve the fear pounding through his heart. The images flashing through his mind of angels in pristine armor torturing the poor woman nearly made him vomit in disgust. What’s worse, is that behind the scene was a very pleased Michael, along with a very frail and distressed Lucifer who was held firmly by Michael’s armed guards. 

The prophetic powers had to have ceased when he fell from grace, right?

Simeon turned off the faucet, staring into his reflection. His breath was heavy as it forced its way passed his teeth in labor, only to be sucked back in with a desperation seen by those starved for air. His thoughts raced back through the dream, trying to recall anything that was said. But just as fragmented as it had appeared to him, the dream vanished into thin air- wisped away from his memory like fallen leaves in the wind. 

“Simeon?” 

He turned quickly, shocked to see Luke standing in his pajamas in the doorway to the bathroom. “Luke...”

He rubbed his eyes sleepily, looking at the former angel with concerned curiosity. “Is everything okay? I heard you yell from my room.” 

Simeon turned his gaze away and his face drained, embarrassed to know his nightmares had caused a ruckus the third night his roommates had finally come to stay from their temporary retreat at the castle. 

Luke grew more concerned the longer Simeon stayed silent. He paused, trying to think of what to do. Clearly he had had a bad dream, but just didn’t want to discuss it with him- or maybe he did, but didn’t know if he should. 

Luke could relate to the awkwardness Simeon was feeling, as he felt it too. The urge he felt to be close to Simeon again was strong, and he longed to rekindle their friendship sooner than what had been asserted by Mc. He recalled their gentle embrace as he cried into their arms, begging her for some advice on how to approach the situation. 

“Things like this need time to heal, Luke. You have to actually work thought the conflicting feelings rather than pushing them away...And you have to allow yourself to be vulnerable to the fact that this wont be the same as before, but that isn’t always bad.”

She said it with such confidence, part of him felt silly for ever thinking otherwise. He knew that he could still have a friendship with him as time went on, but he felt scared of what it would look like. He knew Mc was right- that different didn’t always mean scary...Perhaps he just needed to take the first steps. 

“Do you want me to make you some tea? I can heat up some of the Devilberry popovers I made yesterday..?” 

Simeon turned to him, blinking back his surprise at the offer. “Huh?” 

“It’s not really any trouble. Plus, they’re really tasty. Barbatos said so himself!” Luke smiled nervously, hoping this offer would produce a start of healing- just like Mc had said. 

Simeon mulled it over for a moment, before returning Luke’s offer with a warm smile. “I’d like nothing more.” 

[itspronouncedtessa]

CW: suicide mention, suicidal ideation

It's Suicide Awareness/Prevention Month.

Suicide rates among autistic people are very high and 60% of autistics have reportedly considered suicide. It is one of the main reasons we, on average, tend to die young.

I want to talk about this, bluntly and openly. This is not just a personal story, I do have tips at the end. Note that what follows is aimed at autistic people like myself.

Also:

If you are (actively or not) considering suicide, please seek help.

I am suicidal. Not actively at this time, but I am always, and have been since my teens, at some level of suicidal. I've made 3 actual attempts, came very close once.

My brain just goes there. When life gets too big, when my troubles seem insurmountable, that's where I go. And life gets so big, because of my autism. The stress of trying to fit into a society that is almost actively hostile to who I am, that gets me to that edge quite frequently.

I've talked to my therapist about this. Often I don't actually want to die, I just want out for a bit. I want to not exist. And suicide seems like the only option. I've joked to him quite often that just a little coma every 6 months would do me so much good.

While my autism is the underlying factor for my suicidal ideation, I also think it's my rescue. My analytical side looks on, telling me I don't want to be dead, I just want to take a break. I can distance myself from my emotions and go "this is why you want to die, maybe let's look into fixing that". I've practiced this over the years. I've turned my fantasies of dying into fantasies of running away. And I've practiced going "oh, you need rest, let's go into recuperation mode"

Don't get me wrong, it's not all as simple as *minor inconvenience* -> 'I should kill myself' -> 'oop, guess I'm tired, time for a nap'. The thoughts are still severe, insidious, vile and very real. They build up over time until they become almost unbearable and it takes work to recognize them for what they are.

It's the hiding away from and with suicidal thoughts that gives them power. Dealing with these feelings in secret makes them so much larger than they need to be. Accepting them, sharing them, analyzing them robs them of that power and provides an opportunity to neutralize them.

Some things my experience has taught me that might help you too:

suicidal thoughts are common (among autistic people) and nothing to be ashamed of

check with yourself if you actually want to die or if you just want to not exist for a bit. There is a difference.

be compassionate with yourself. This goes back to my first point: let go of the shame surrounding feeling suicidal

relax. Don't be fooled by NTs for whom suicidal thoughts are a BIG DEAL. If to you (like to me) feeling suicidal is like a regular Tuesday, treat it as such. Go "huh, I'm suicidal again, must be time to take some more rest" rather than the DEFCON2 NTs would expect. Going "OMG OMG I'm suicidal, this is terrible, see how useless I am, I'm a bad person for feeling this way" is the opposite of helpful.

knowing and accepting that suicidal thoughts are something that occasionally happens to you, takes the stigma away and helps you find what you actually need. I promise what you need is *not* the sweet relief of death.

Take care of yourself. You're far from the only one who has these thoughts. It is completely understandable that you have these thoughts. These thoughts are not a reason to panic. When they come, take a break. Just not a permanent one, okay?

[takoto]

cw suicide, death, death of a family member

this year has been beyond rough

two months and one week after my granddad passed away, my cousin took his own life

i only found out monday. five weeks after it happened. he was the cousin i was closest to on that side of the family. no one thought to tell me.

it's complicated. i don't have much contact with that side of the family - only that cousin, and my aunt, and even then only very rarely do i speak to my aunt. my cousin and i talk - talked, on and off, he dropped off the map a lot. always has. i hadn't heard from him in a few months, but that was normal.

my aunt (she isn't the cousins mother) realized on the day of his funeral that it was likely no one had told me, so she called my mum, who also had no idea what had happened, and she told me.

it still hasn't sunk in. he had a fucking difficult life. he was the cousin i knew the best. he was the oldest out of us. now i guess i'm the oldest cousin.

we went to the same secondary school.

the last conversation we had was about pokémon romhacks

he was the person who taught me about missingno. in pokémon red and blue. he was the person who taught me how to do most of the major gen 1 glitches. on the kitchen floor. he told me if you have the sound on the gameboy turned way up, it'll drain the battery quicker.

can't take off time to grieve either. my workplace is a piece of shit. no sick pay. when my granddad passed, they told me, "take as much time as you need off", i took off a week, they paid me one day of compassionate leave and said it simply wasn't possible to pay compassionate leave for the rest of the time. at the start of the year, they patted themselves on the back in an e-mail, saying how good of an employer they were, how they spoiled their employees (there's less than 15 of us across the whole company.)

i think i forgot to take my adhd medication this morning

just needed a place to vent

[toxic-mothers-tourney]

Toxic propaganda: Mrs. Asahina/Mafuyu’s mother (Project Sekai: Colorful Stage)

CW: suicide

mrs asahina is the mother of one of the main characters of project sekai, mafuyu asahina. mafuyus mother is very emotionally abusive and guilt trips her constantly. she puts her on a super high pedestal and completely made mafuyu lose her entire sense of self and identity. shes a HORRIBLE person, and in more recent events took away mafuyus only source of happiness (her computer where she talks to her music group, and her music stuff). shes so horrible. i hate her. MAFUYU LITERALLY CANT EVEN EXPRESS A SINGLE EMOTION FOR LIKE, THE MAJORITY OF THE PLOT BECAUSE OF HER

The entire reason mafuyu is traumatized. extremely manipulative, tries to take away everything that makes her child happy and make her child conform to what she thinks is a good lifestyle.

Mafumom's idea of love is, essentially, to repress and restrict her daughter's hobbies/interests/desires in the name of pushing her to the top of the academic world and eventually becoming a doctor. Her daughter, Mafuyu, is depressed, stressed, and suicidal as a result (she doesn't even want to be a doctor she actually wanted to be a nurse but her mom was like "aim higher gurl!"). Her only escapes are 1. the archery club and 2. the music circle she writes lyrics for in secret, both of which are things her mother is trying to deprive her of, as she's been spying on her over the course of the current arc. As of the event story "Immiscible Discord", she's even gone so far as to throw away Mafuyu's synthesizer, and has claimed to have spilled a drink on Mafuyu's laptop, forcing it to be sent away for repairs. Personally I think this is a bold-faced lie, she's probably actually trying to figure out how to install a keylogger or something. TLDR the woman's an academics-obsessed control freak

her mom doesn't have or deserve her own name in the canon gje;ioajsg

ANYWAY. so she's like. the main contender in the entirety of mafuyu's unit's story because basically she's controlling every aspect of her daughter's life, doing shit like restricting who her friends can be, throwing away her musical instruments (the literal only thing in her life that makes her happy), throwing away her laptop, sneaking through her laptop (prior to throwing it out) and messages, etc etc etc like!! she's the worst!!!

oh and mafuyu's friends were concerned for her so one of them met up w her mom to discuss the situation to which we learned for 100% certain that her mom is a certified bitch who doesn't care abt mafuyu's happiness whatsoever but instead just wants to have a perfect child…

also weird and fucked up when they snuck out to the local theme park and mafuyu saw a lost child get reunited w their parent and was Shocked to see the mother be compassionate and kind to the child instead of angry at them for wandering off (cue seeing a memory of mafuyu's mother getting mad at her for getting lost as a small child)

A vote against Mafuyu's mother is a vote against every shitty, conditional-loving parent out there. A vote against Mafuyu's mother is a vote in support of kids with autistic burnout. A vote against Mafuyu's mother is a vote for Mafuyu getting out.

i'm a DID system and i also feel that mafuyu herself is very DID-coded (the vocaloids in her sekai all read as alters to me)

Mrs. Asahina has the perfect family. Her daughter Mafuyu is talented, popular, and the top of every class. She attends cram school every day so she can get into a top medical school! Mrs. Asahina couldn't be more proud of her precious, polite daughter who knows it's always best to listen to her mother. Of course, a quick look beneath Mafuyu's facade reveals that her mother's efforts to strip away all imperfections have left Mafuyu a depressed shell who has been pretending to be happy for so long she can no longer feel anything at all. This game's worldbuilding revolves around the "Sekai," which are little pocket dimensions/personal mini-worlds born from one or more person's emotions and inhabited by "virtual singers" (Vocaloid characters including Hatsune Miku) whose personalities reflect those of the Sekai's creators. The world that manifests from Mafuyu's truest self is a grey void dotted with abandoned skeletons of unfinished buildings, and her version of Miku initially displays almost no understanding of how emotions are supposed to work. Mafuyu uses the Sekai as an escape, since she can't ever relax at home.

The game lets us see the results of Mrs. Asahina's toxic parenting long before we ever meet her in person. In-game, Mafuyu is part of a doujin music group with three other characters called Nightcord at 25:00, and her struggles are the driving force for N25's primary storyline. Mrs. Asahina, however, is not just responsible for Mafuyu's state at the beginning of the story, but actively fights to keep her daughter under her thumb going forward. Mafuyu's friends slowly make progress to help her become her own person through the music they all make together, but when that growth inevitably leads to some very small attempts by Mafuyu to stand up for herself, her mother tries to isolate her from her friends (who really aren't a good influence, you know; shouldn't someone as bright and talented as Mafuyu spend time with people who are as driven as her?) and to stop her from making music altogether. After all, the music is just a distraction from what's really important, like her studies. It's all in Mafuyu's best interest, of course, and Mrs. Asahina would be remiss not to ensure her daughter will grow up to be successful.

Since Project Sekai is a rhythm game, I would be remiss not to mention the music. Not only does N25 generally cover the songs with the darkest lyrics/tone out of all the groups in the game, but the original songs commissioned for the group really drive Mafuyu's brokenness home. Standouts include Composing the Future (the main song for all four characters, which focuses on a sense of hopelessness for one's future), Jackpot Sad Girl (Mafuyu's first focus song, which is about her inability to express her long-buried emotions), Bug (in which Mafuyu compares her existence to a computer glitch ruining her programmer's plans) and Samsa (which compares Mafuyu's life to that of Gregor Samsa in Franz Kafka's iconic tragedy, "The Metamorphosis")

[ikamigami]

Regarding Sun's mental issues.

TW/CW: serious topic regarding mental health, depressive psychosis, mentions of various self-destructive behaviours which are symptoms of depressive psychosis.

Please, remember to be compassionate and understanding because it's really delicate and serious topic. I don't want to bring hate. I'm here to bring some awereness.

I know that I've talked about this already but I wanted to state all of my thoughts on Sun's mental issues in one post.

More specifically I wanted to talk about the fact that people were too harsh towards Sun during his "going solo after Eclipse" arc.

I believe that Sun was not only on a verge of mental breakdown but he also had psychotic episode. I don't know how many of you know what psychosis is that's why I wanted to make this post to bring awereness to this type of problems.

I also believe that killing Bloodmoon triggered Sun and he ended having a psychotic episode. But let me explain firstly that I believe that when Sun was killing Bloodmoon, he most definitely had PTSD and he relived that moment when he banished Eclipse from his head. I think Sun had PTSD during that moment with BM because of how similar were things BM said to Sun to the things Eclipse told him then. That's why Sun aimed straight for the head because it's something he's doing without thinking like we could see in many gaming episodes.

Some time after Sun killed BM psychotic episode started. And now you need to understand that when someone has psychotic episode it's not their fault and it's not like they can stop it. There wasn't anything Sun could do to stop having psychotic episode. The true problem is that no one helped Sun. Or to be more accurate "the help" of others wasn't exactly the help Sun needed at such hard time he had.

I also think that it wasn't the first time Sun had psychotic episode but this one was definitely the major one, maybe even the biggest one he had. And I understand that others don't have to know what exactly they should do during situations like that if they encountered it for the first time (the first time when they could realise that there is truly a serious problem here with Sun).

That's why I'm not that mad at Lunar or Moon (but Moon could do better than he did). I'm more angry at people who kept saying that Sun should've known better or should've listen to Moon or shouldn't have been angry at Lunar. Because Sun didn't know better at that time, Sun couldn't listen to Moon at that time, Sun couldn't do anything about being angry and agitated which he expressed it all on Lunar at that time. He couldn't do anything about all of this during psychotic episode and definitely during such a major one. Because it doesn't work like that.

You may think that saying that Sun had psychotic episode is a stretch but he had Bloodmoon's hallucination among many others symptoms of psychosis. And I strongly believe that Sun has a depressive psychosis. Many symptoms are there, such as:

agitation

anxiety

persistent low mood (in Sun's case he's more irritated than sad as we could see in many episodes)

lost of interest and pleasure in activities you used to enjoy (we could see that Sun isn't as happy with his daycare attendant duties as he used to, sometimes we could see that he wasn't enjoying playing games even the ones he really likes (it's important to remember that Sun is hiding his depression so it's not always easy to tell that he has depression)

sleeping difficulties (we know that hallucinations keep Sun awake at night and we know that he has nightmares very often if not daily)

having less energy than usual or being more fatigued

changes in movement, such as increased restlessness or a sense of being slowed down

difficulty concentrating or making decisions

frequent feelings of worthlessness, helplessness, self-hatred, or guilt

frequent thoughts of death, dying, or suicide (the last one is only implied for now)

hallucinations (Bloodmoon; I also believe that Sun has hallucinations related to July 16th incident)

delusions or believing things that aren't true (mostly I think that Sun truly believes that everything is his fault and he's evil; it's also implied for now but it isn't a far fetched statement).

I also think that Sun has a Major Depressive Disorder with mood-congruent psychotic features because it's stated that in this type of Depressive Psychosis hallucinations and delusions reflect feelings and emotions that often show up with depression, including feelings of personal inadequacy, worthlessness, guilt, and fears about illness or death which fits Sun's current state of mind perfectly.

It's also worth to mention that psychotic episode usually is developing over a period of 2 weeks and we know (more or less, mostly we can assume) that it wasn't a long time between Sun killing Bloodmoon and him going after Eclipse. And also usually person fully recovers from psychotic episode within few months, weeks or days and we know that it is only slightly more than a month after Sun's mental breakdown which he had during psychotic episode.

I also believe that Sun didn't gain depressive psychosis because he killed Bloodmoon, I think he suffered from it since July 16th incident for sure. It was very traumatic event in Sun's life which may lead to developing psychosis among with depression. Because I think that Sun's untreated PTSD after that incident (and also after what was happening with Moon and kill code when they still shared a body) further worsened his mental issues which could led to developing psychosis. But if Sun mental issues still will be left untreated it may lead to developing bipolar disorder. Because untreated psychosis may cause Sun to have worse episodes each time. It doesn't always end up with one having a bipolar disorder but it may end up like that.

Situation is already bad but it can be worse and the worst case scenario is that Sun may end up taking his own life. Many people with untreated depressive psychosis end up taking their own life or with attempting suicide. The risk is very high on such cases.

That's why I'm so scared and worried for Sun. Because the only one who somewhat helped Sun (to some extent) is Earth. But it's definitely not enough. Sun still suffer from depressive psychosis which we know from the lore episode with Amanda the adventurer. Bloodmoon's hallucination still haunts Sun. Sun needs a professional help in my opinion.

It's also worth mentioning that it's not that weird or surprising that Sun never told anyone about any of this because people with depressive psychosis often don't open up about their issues. It's truly on others to help a person with such problem. That's why I hope that with my explanations people will stop blaming Sun for acting like he was during his "going solo after Eclipse" arc because it isn't his fault. He had psychotic episode and that's it. Others such as Moon or Lunar were the ones that should help Sun then but they didn't or they help wasn't actually helpful. I'm not totally blaming them for that because like I said it was the first time Sun had such a major psychotic episode which let them realise that there was something wrong happening with Sun.

I hope that this post will bring more awereness to such issues in general and that people will stop being so harsh towards Sun.

Lastly, I'll say that I appreciate the work both Davis and Reed are putting into depiction of various mental issues in S.A.M.S. and that they're treating it seriously. Also the depiction of Sun having depressive psychosis is very accurate to the point that the symptoms are visible and during Sun's "going solo after Eclipse" arc I could easily see and assume without being afraid it's a stretch that Sun had psychotic episode then.

[fujoreads]

Umineko: Episode 3 // Review & Thoughts

VNDB | Steam

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

CW: Murder (duh); suicide attempt; blood

P.S.: There are broken youtube previews due to my blog's theme, so they won't look as good, but I refuse not to show them.

With this review, I am almost up to date with my Umineko reviews, so let's get this started!

PLOT

I would say this is the easiest episode to solve to far, but to be honest, I'm second-guessing myself as I type.

This episode had its focus on Eva and I loved every bit of it.

For starters, this is the first episode we get where all Ushiromiyas survive the first twilight! It was pretty cool to see all the dynamics in these moments of stress and panic.

The first twilight was rather tame; it's only after the second twilight that things get more serious for both sides: the purgatory side, and Rokkenjima side.

I gotta say though, Kumasawa turning into Virgilia was surprising, and the fight scene was 100% chunni hype KEKW

I don't necessarily love chunni works, but I also don't hate them. For some reason, I really like how Ryukishi writes theses more fantastical scenes; hell, even the dumb comedy scenes! Maybe it's because the works are so heavy that you get relieved when you see some lighthearted action. Though to be fair, this is a split opinion amongst the fanbase.

I find it extremely funny how Schrödinger's cat is always mentioned in VNs. It goes with the plot this time, though.

Evatrice torturing Rosa was tough to watch...

ESPECIALLY this part. Like, holy shit, what a description lmao

This sceneeeeee! When I saw his eyes and heard his tone, I knew Beato fucked up. It was so hype!! So hype I wrote this when I read it lmao

Beatrice's trial sure was something... I even shed some tears.

And then we get this... UOOOOOOH BEATORICHEEEEEE!!!

I got tricked so hard and I can't even hate her.

CHARACTERS

Ushiromiya Kyrie & Rudolf

This is the episode where Kyrie & Rudolf both shine as a couple and individuals—though Rudolf less than Kyrie.

The fight scene with the Stakes was one awesome fight!! I never wanted to marry Kyrie more <3

Ushiromiya Eva (ft. Evatrice)

Evatrice is a very interesting character, even if somewhat annoying. We can see her as the antagonist witch, or just as a personification of Eva's fuel and desire... and trauma.

Ooooh that's a nightmare face alright.

The violence of growing as a woman, living in extremely sexist times and amongst a shitty family, with a powerful surname to uphold... I can relate to two of those aspects, but even if I'm not rich like Eva, I can understand her drive and feelings. Seeing the way Rosa and Eva are developed over the episodes, I can only look forward to the rest of the cast!

Ushiromiya Hideyoshi

I haven't met anyone as compassionate as Hideyoshi. I would say Eva doesn't deserve him, but he's the perfect match for her. She's a lucky woman, in that sense.

Ushiromiya Kinzo

Kinzo might be the one individual I can't like. He might be an entertaining fella, but he's an utterly horrible human being—and I bet I haven't seen half of it.

The way we learn more about her time being Kinzo's captive... it's all too painful to see. It also feels like a romanticized tale, twisting human reality.

Her sweet smile is surely a sight to see, though. For that, I can understand Kinzo's fire, but it seems he has given her more damage than happiness.

Speaking of fire, I absolutely loved this CG. It looks like a painting, and Umineko Project's version animates this scene, making it seem like it's actually burning. Fantastic!

Virgilia

I really liked her character! She is nice, but cunning—a true witch. I enjoyed all the help she gave Battler, and how she betrayed him in the end, outdoing Beato.

AND OF COURSE SHE ALSO HAS A NIGHTMARE FUEL FACE UGH

Chiester Sisters

I love the Chiester sisters! Especially Chiester410—but honestly, the two of them are both fantastic.

(This brought me Maggot Baits flashbacks lmao)

Bernkastel

One of my favorite characters, even if I don't see much of her. Maybe it's because I've read Higurashi beforehand and got hyped seeing someone so similar-looking to Rika?

These moments are precious too. It feels like a treat to Higurashi readers. It's so sad, though...

Lambdadelta

She's here!!

I didn't know anything about her, but I had seen her before, along with Bernkastel. At first, since Bern is clearly based on Rika, I thought Lambda would be a version of Satoko, but looking at her now, I think she might be either a mix of Satoko and young Takano or just Takano.

Her laugh and childish demeanor reminds me of Satoko, but her obsession with Bern and absolute certainty clearly reminds me of Takano and how she keeps Rika trapped in an endless tragedy. Plus, she's very calculating and controlling, which just adds to that theory.

Ange

It's Ange time!! What an introduction to her character :D

I can't wait to explore more of her character in Episode 4, wink wink

Though playing Wingless as she is planning on jumping to her death sure is painful :(

Atmosphere & Soundtrack

As always, great tracks. They make my ears blush ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

Discovering both Miragecoordinator and Lost Paradise was such a blessing. I added them to my music player as soon as I listened to them in-game!! Oh, and I must not forget about Dance of the Moon Rabbit. I love that track, though I can't unhear Evatrice's voice over it.

Art

There were so many wonderful CGs in this episode, as I've shown over this entire post. Some scenes were animated for this version, and it adds so much to the immersion!

Final Thoughts

Fantastic as always, no complaints!

I'll give this a score of 7.4/10, aka 4 stars!

<See you soon. Have a nice week.>

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Thank you for reading it all to the end! I’m working full-time and looking for another job to make my life possible; would you be so kind and consider giving me a little tip? It can be as low as 3 bucks and it’d make a huuuuuge difference!! If you tip 10€ (or higher), you can dictate my next read and be credited (if you’d like) on that review! Have a nice day!!

[narrators-journal]

General Minato headcanons

To match Ryoji, here’s Minato’s general headcanons! Tho, I’m gonna hide the unsavory bits under the cut as best I can.

CW: Self harm is mentioned, I think that’s the worst part.

Minato is shockingly kind. You wouldn't guess it from his aloof attitude, but he is no stranger to putting the needs of others above his own or helping those who need it.

Has not only bounced between family members, but also mental hospital trips.

Has spent a considerable amount of his childhood in mental hospitals to deal with his trauma and depression.

Because of this instability in his home life and spending so much time in very structured, monitored environments, Minato didn't have a ton of control over his life in his younger years. Add to that joining the SEES where he is once again kept under watch and control of someone else and you have the perfect environment for a sexual desire for control.

Because of the loss of his parents and then bouncing between family members for ten years, he struggles to connect to others very deeply.

This does not mean he's afraid of sex. In fact, he's a bit of a hoe.

Sex releases happy feelings and is a 'safe' way to be close to someone, so Minato sleeps around a little bit.

King of one night stands and friends with benie relationships.

Will ghost you if you catch feelings.

He has quite a few kinks revolving around control. Including breathplay (preferring to do the choking), pet play, knives, really anything that just puts him firmly in control.

Naturally, he is also primarily a top because of this. It gives him the most control.

He will bottom from time to time, but it is mostly just because he decided to or had a particularly strong craving to be fucked. He's never entirely the bottom of his relationships.

Minato has definitely self-harmed before. In a few different ways.

He grew up with Pharos in his head rent free, darkly encouraging and enabling his suicidal tendencies.

He secretly craves and loves when he gets small, intimate moments.

Stuff like choosing to spend time with him in a comfortable silence, being held, being hugged from behind, someone pulling his hand into their pocket to keep warm. Small, romantic gestures like that stick with him.

He might start off a little hostile to the small acts, but the mere fact that someone tried will stick to him like a burr.

Minato has a pretty morbid sense of humor, one that he doesn't actually hide. He simply doesn't express it that often.

While he comes off as aloof and disinterested in everything, he does care about others. He's not super expressive, but he is compassionate, even to those he doesn't know that well.

This doesn't show very strongly, but it does show up pretty regularly.

[beepboopbirb]

CW: suicidal ideation

Compassionate Friend Listens 4

"I feel so big, a giant hoarding space Too loud, too present, needing way too much I wish that I could shrink to how I feel Be carried off by wind or crushed by touch

"A bumbling mess, a thorn stuck in your side Destructive, useless, careless, not enough I want to melt into the cracks below Just why can't I pare off this extra stuff?

"Why don't you let me disappear myself? What good could letting me mess up more add? Why won't you let me go to die alone? I'm bad, why can't I please stop being bad?"

[spicyselfindulgentfandomstuff]

Regrettable decisions in the night

Fandom: The Suicide Squad 2

Pairing: Abner Krill x Elliot Carter (self insert)

CW: NSFT (obviously lol), masturbation, getting off to the thought of a crush, a little bit of angst at the end :(

------

“Well, um.. thanks for talking with me- I mean, I know we talk everyday but it still means a lot to me!” Elliot looked uneasy for a moment, as though they were trying to figure out what to do, or make a decision quickly. It only lasted a second before Abner felt the tentative and gentle embrace of his friend, hugging him from the side where they sat next to him. 

He tensed up, body instinctively entering fight or flight mode before he visibly relaxed into the hug, tension melting away as he received the first physical affection he had in a very long time. The last time he’d been hugged was by his siblings. But this… this was different. He savored the physical contact for as long as it lasted. It ended all too soon for his liking and Elliot chirped their customary “Goodnight, Abner!” before walking towards the guards who would return them to their cell. 

‘Well that was new.’ he thought. Elliot had never hugged him like that before. In fact, that hug was the first physical contact between the two, Abner realized. He himself had always been very careful to keep his hands to himself despite how badly he wanted to touch and hold and sidle up next to Elliot. He hadn’t realized however, that they too seemed to be equally reserved about physical contact.. until tonight, for some reason…?

As a guard walked him back to his cell for the night, it occurred to him: ‘Maybe they are just nervous like me.. Maybe that’s why they never brushed my hand, or bumped my shoulder or anything like that.. Maybe they only got brave enough to initiate tonight..?’

The door closed behind Abner and he was left alone with his thoughts. 

‘No’, he reprimanded himself harshly, ‘that’s stupid, why would they be nervous about initiating physical contact with you? What like, they like you? No, you might be a friend, at best, but you’ll never be anything more. They probably just didn’t think about it until now. You’re reading too much into it. Yea, that had to be it.’

Despite himself, Abner couldn’t stop thinking about the hug Elliot had given him. It was short and friendly but it was so, so special to him. He thought about the feeling of their arms on his back, the smell of their natural body odor, now noticeable to him due to their proximity… he thought about the feeling of their skin on his where their necks met during the hug and how their soft hair tickled his skin a bit.. and he thought about the feeling of their breath in his ear as they came in for the hug and later, pulled away- brief, fleeting, oh how he wished it had lasted longer. All of it, most especially the skin on skin contact. He really liked touching Elliot. He wondered if they liked touching him too, and maybe they would want to touch him in other ways.. other places on his body?

‘Oh god no!’ he stopped mid-thought and immediately admonished himself for even the thought of them being intimate in that way, ‘Elliot is your friend, how could you think this way about them? What would they think if they knew you were thinking about them this way?!’

He tried to stuff down his desires but quickly realized with his growing erection, he was going to need to do something about it, after all. 

He tried to justify it to himself, thinking, ‘Well, it's just thoughts, right? Thinking about them like that wouldn’t hurt, right? There’s no way they could ever know about this if I don’t tell them, so it's okay, right? Yea, that makes sense…’

He took a shaky breath in, trying to recollect his earlier thoughts. 

‘Right, Elliot.. Oh sweet, nervous little Elliot…’ Abner smiled a bit, thinking about how kind and compassionate they were, despite their anxious disposition. It kind of matched his own, if he was being honest. Which was kind of reassuring to him. 

Abner’s thoughts quickly returned to a more risque nature, though, as he began to recall the hug and how their hands felt on his back and how good the contact felt. 

He quickly undid his pants and yanked down his boxers, freeing his aching cock, precum already dribbling down his length. 

He closed his eyes and imagined that Elliot was touching him again, this time not something as innocuous as an embrace but rather he imagined Elliot’s mouth around his dick, bobbing his hand in time with how he thought they would move if they were the one doing this. 

He thought about how they would feel with their pretty mouth around him, his hands in their fluffy blonde hair, tugging and pulling them gently around to show them how to suck him off. He wondered, foggily, how experienced Elliot was, or if they’d even ever had sex at all. They did seem a bit naïve when it came to relationship stuff and he had to wonder if that extended to physical intimacy as well… he wouldn’t mind, not one bit, he thinks, he could help teach them what felt good to him and even better, he could do things that felt good to them, for their first time. 

As he gradually sped up his thrusting into his hand, Abner’s imagination turned to the idea of him pounding their ass. All the while, he was replaying the physical contact of the hug they gave him. He imagined them moaning- he imagined them as being a bit noisy- out his name and that sent him right over the edge. 

And that was it. 

As he tucked himself back into his clothing, he felt the most horrendous guilt and shame. 

‘God, what did you do?’ he thought, guiltily, ‘You just jerked off to the thought of your best friend.. How are you gonna look them in the eyes now? What will you do if they touch you again, let alone hug you?’

Abner sinks into himself, hoping to sink further, into the very concrete floor. He can’t believe he did this. ‘Why? Elliot will never like you like that so why ruin the good thing you have already?’

Abner cried himself to sleep that night.

[cleoselene]

With Florida careening toward a probably explosion of this virus, I want to make things clear, guys.

If I contract this virus and it gets bad, I don’t intend to go to the hospital.  I am severely ill.  I have had a migraine nearly every day, nonstop for six months.  I am disabled.  My kind are being denied care and given pain medicine for comfort.  As much as I love pain medicine, I am not going to go somewhere and be told my life is worth less.  I already know it is.  I read stories every day how the disabled are passed over for care in favorite of the able-bodied.

My health is fragile.  Extremely.  I am very compromised, very vulnerable to infection.  If it gets bad.  I’m not sticking around.  Permanently.  It’s not about mental healthy.  It’s about enduring the upper limits of my ability to withstand pain.  I know enough of this disease to know it is like living alone in health.  I don’t plan to go that way, not on top of migraine pain and MS pain.  I’ll stop things before it gets that bad.  

This has nothing to do with mental health.  This is about my people (the disabled community) being declared unworthy of treatment and this is about the fact that I literally cannot physically endure any more pain.  I cry all day.  All day.  Because of the pain.  This is when I’m not vomiting from the pain.  Or sleeping so I don’t have to be aware of it.

I want to go on my own terms.

Suffocating from pneumonia on respirator while migraines ravage my body because my governor and the clown in the Oval Office are responsible?

That ain’t me babe.