#i assume other people are here to do that too - even when our modes of enjoyment look very different

[panharmonium]

What do you think about this: "Kakashi was never interested in Sasuke as an individual, he only projected himself into him and saw a smaller version of himself on Sasuke, Sasuke was never Sasuke to him, just a little Kakashi". I wanted to know your opinion because I miss your meta posts and I feel like lately people are hating Kakashi for things that aren't real :/, also you are really good at explaining and I feel that both characters need love

Hello! Thanks for the question!

The answer to "what do i think about this" is, honestly, that I don't think about it X) I watched the whole show without engaging with the fandom at all (for fear of spoilers, initially), so I was able to experience it without being exposed to anyone else's thoughts, and now that I'm done I generally still avoid poking around, because devoting mental energy to opinions that I find bizarre/not supported by the text doesn't enhance my fandom experience.

Kakashi and Sasuke's relationship is one of the most compelling things about the series to me. I was very surprised when I finished the show/manga and first exposed myself to the fandom only to find so few people invested in them, but at this point I've (mostly) stopped asking myself "what show was everyone else watching" and just settled into enjoying the show that I watched, because that's more fun for me. I can't convince people not to dislike Kakashi if that's what they want to do. I do find it a little weird, because I don't think that's what the story is asking from us, but as long as people mind their business and aren't bugging me on my own blog, they're free to do what they want.

I know it can be frustrating when there are people hating various characters for "things that aren't real," but the fact that these criticisms aren't "real" is precisely why I generally avoid engaging with them. For Kakashi, specifically, there are certain things people can say that will immediately make me stop taking them seriously - "projecting" is one. "Bootlicking" is another, but again, these terms are so wildly inaccurate that I'm not interested in talking about them. The manga and the show are easily accessible; if people want to rewatch/re-read them, they can.

In general, I just prefer to avoid engaging with most of the fandom negativity I see. I think overall most of the rancor I've stumbled across boils down to people engaging with the story in very ungenerous ways, if that makes sense, and that's not how I prefer to read/watch things. Like - back when I was still in the middle of watching the show, I remember someone sent me a message saying that they loved seeing me talk about the story with earnestness/joy, and it was such a lovely message to receive, but it also made me pause and wonder for a second if this was really an uncommon enough thing to be remarked upon. Wouldn't that be the default? Aren't we all here because we love the story and the characters so much? But the truth is that sometimes it does feel like large chunks of fandom spaces (not just Naruto, I mean; I've certainly experienced this elsewhere) are very focused on being negative about "things that aren't real," as you said. Like - people calling Sakura "abusive" for bopping Naruto on the head when he says something rude, when this is not something the text is even remotely trying to say about her. People writing off Jiraiya's entire storyline because of the non-consensual spying on women - which, yes, of course, is disgusting and wrong. Obviously. I am very aware of that. However, I can simultaneously recognize that the story isn't really interested in that or intending me to read it like that; the voyeurism is written as a joke (yes, I understand how gross that is) and there are a hundred potential personal and/or patriarchal and/or genre-related and/or cultural factors that may have gone into Kishimoto writing this particular fail. If I want to understand and appreciate what the story was ACTUALLY trying to communicate with Jiraiya (that he's an idealist who gave up on the world when everything went wrong, who turned to shallow pleasures of the flesh to distract him from the pain of his disillusionment, and who was finally restored to his former faith after meeting Naruto), then I have to mindfully set the voyeurism aside and go, "This writer wrote a gross thing, and I recognize that, but I'm also not going to fixate on it, because I can simultaneously appreciate/find meaning in what he was really trying to say."

I think some of the Kakashi complaints out there very much fall under this umbrella. If I have to see one more person frothing at the mouth about Kakashi briefly tying Sasuke (a qualified ninja who has already demonstrated his ability to escape rope restraints and whom Kakashi has been individually mentoring, sparring against, and connecting with for a month) to a tree for approximately sixty seconds - honestly. I don't know how to tell people they're missing the point, so I don't bother.

Ultimately, the fact of the matter is that people are entitled to dislike any character that they want, even for contrived reasons. As long as they're doing their own thing in their own space and letting me do my thing in mine, we're good.

[sleeplesssmoll]

Vertin's personality and traits based on in-game context.

Contains Spoilers.

Will update when I find more tidbits about our beloved Timekeeper.

Updated: March 15 2024

Vertin sucks at math.

Not much to say here. Although, this is another difference between her and Sonetto, who loves math. I hope they do something with this later because it'd be fun.

Vertin is 16 confirmed

While this isn't a personality trait, I did see some debate about her age since it wasn't officials stated until now and it was assumed through context. Prisoner in the Cave explicitly confirms her age. Vertin became Timekeeper when she was 12 and has been the the TK for the past 4 years.

Vertin is a pianist and a painter.

You can see a piano in the back of her office in the Suitcase by the window. It makes sense in regards to Vertin's musically inclined Arcanum. There's an easel and stool in her office too. She doesn't merely collect art, she creates it. Vertin also owns a camera (official artwork released) too and mentions her photography in the begining, so this isn't new but I thought I should add it.

Vertin's still playful under all her composure.

We know baby Vertin was a little menace, but we can still see a spark of that mischief in her later years. For example, Vertin slapping a fake mustache on Regulus to avoid Sonetto really captures this. We can tell from other characters' voice lines that Vertin will most likely play along with their shenanigans. She'll chirp like a bird in response to Rabies talking about his bird friends (Wilderness interaction). She'll help Sonetto during hide and seek (Wilderness). She watches movies with Eternity and An An Lee. X asks her for help with his projects. Going through her crew's voice lines really paints a better picture of how she interacts with others. The voice lines point to someone playful and curious when she's not in work mode.

Vertin was a gremlin.

Vertin's love language is giving.

We know baby Vertin loved to give gifts to a reluctant Sonetto, but that part of her still exists. She tried to grant everyone's last wishes during the 1929 Storm. We also know she gives Lilya alcohol as a gift upon her return from 1929. She is also very direct. We see her ask people what they want or what can she do for them throughout the story. To expand further, you could say she likes fulfilling people's desires instead of limiting it to material gifts. We can see more of instances of this during the Green Lake event, especially in the way she protects Jessica from the Foundation. She also tried to get Regulus funding for a ship. I love the Suitcase Dad meme, but it's rooted in nuggets of truth.

She was a crappy student, yet she was also a resourceful gremiln. Vertin never liked the institution! Honor student? Top of the class? Never. Teachers are filled with that "Godamnit Vertin" energy toward her too. I hope we see more gremlin energy in the future.

One-sided childhood friends.

Vertin is a collector.

Sonetto and Vertin were desk mates but Sonetto couldn't stand Vertin when they were kids. She even tried to avoid Vertin at times but Vertin persisted with her gifts. We can see this in the hallway scene. Sonetto's about to change routes to avoid Vertin but Vertin called out to her to give her a frog she caught. Kinda funny how Sonetto can't stand Vertin but also can't resist her when they were kids. Vertin and Matilda were actually closer back then. Well, at least until the tear gas incident. Sonetto changed after Vertin was hurt and the rascal wasn't around to bother her. I feel like this tidbit says a lot about Vertin and her influence on people.

Baby Vertin collected rocks, bugs, and frogs. Adult Vertin collects painting and mementos of people she's lost. Things were simpler as a kid.

Vertin is stronger than she looks.

She was a wild child and she's still got it years later. Vertin can run for long periods of time, endure injuries, and climb obstacles. That, and she's still essentially a child solider. We see her hold her own when she needs to fight solo doing stuff like dodging bullets. Sonetto and Matilda also exhibit these freakishly athletic traits, especially Sonetto.

Vertin befriends people in every Era, despite knowing she'll lose them.

Compared to the other children raised by the Foundation, Vertin's traveled the world and witnessed loss in every Era. This opens doors to a whole new set of questions. How did she change over time? How do the Arcanists she recruited before the story treat her? Did she have crushes in previous Eras? Were the oranges just as bitter? Vertin seems to get close to people very easily and doesn't build walls around herself despite the trauma. You'd think someone who's lost so much would stop trying to get close to people, but she doesn't.

Vertin is optimistic.

Even as a child, she was full of hope. It's why she fights for the future and is a core part of her personality. She needs to fight for all those she lost and stop the Storm from taking more lives.

Vertin gets quiet when embarrassed/shy.

She'll blush and fall silent, but she doesn't stammer or go all tsundere. We can see this in voice lines. Sonetto's high praises make her cover her face with her hands. Eternity gets a reaction out of her when she holds her hand. She also blushed when she received surprise smooch and fell silent.

Vertin has a unique scar on her back.

Vertin is a tactile person.

Arcana mentions the scar after Vertin was shot multiple times in the back by Schneider. It's a big scar and new theories about the scar are ongoing and interesting!

In several voice line interactions, Vertin is patting people's heads or holding their hands. Not all her crew mates are on board with it, some seem confused, and others play along. We can also see examples in story like her handing Sonetto a frog while gently grasping her hand or her taking Regulus's hand to lead her into the Suitcase. Here is a post with the evidence to back this claim.

Vertin sucks at arcanum but her deep understanding of arcanum is uncanny.

The story mentions her weak arcanum skills throughout the story. They really want you to remember this. Also, her arcanum didn't manifest until sometime after the break away event but before the events in the prologue. During her stay in the guardhouse, she doubts if she's even an arcanist and mentions her arcanum has yet to manifest, which is wild. Smoltin is fighting with her tiny hands and wit in this chapter. However, in the prologue it's mentioned Vertin's understanding of arcanum and her perception makes her unique amongst arcanists. She's also considered more "rationale" than other arcanists. You can read more about this here.

Vertin is stealthy.

Smoltin sneaks around to play outside. She steals food for herself and the Ring from the Staff Canteen, which has better quality food than what the kids get. This tells me she's done this before. Adult Vertin also sneaks around the Walden to find Schneider. She makes maps, tracks guard routes, and avoids detection since whe was a kid.

Tooth Fairy was one of the few Foundation members who cared about Vertin.

Tooth Fairy is the one who gave Smoltin the toffees (chit chat voicelines). She also covered for Vertin on a few occasions to protect her from punishment. She remembers Vertin faking her illness to skip class, but her bruises and wounds were real. The Foundation does have a few kind hearts that genuinely care about the children. The causes of Vertin's injuries is up to speculation.

[kaibutsushidousha]

Another Danganronpa linguistics-based that has been about as long overdue as the name study post is the post about the language nuances of Fujisaki's unusual gender situation. I'm genuinely surprised I never got a direct question about this, even when the Danganronpa Translation Critique tag was still active, but one post about the subject in this site and a conversation about it elsewhere (read: a place where can easily copypaste my own explanations from) inspired me to finally put this one out. This used to be a heated topic a decade ago, so there's probably too many disclaimers to be made with this one, so assume I made every one you need to read this study in good faith. Thank you.

I guess I need to start with a general explanation of first-person pronouns. I imagine a lot of people know this part already since it's an omnipresent aspect of the language, but it never hurts to review the basics. Japanese has multiple first-person pronouns instead of the single "I" English has. A person's choice of pronoun informs things about their gender, age, social status, and relationship to the person they're speaking to. In theory, there are maybe over 40. In practice, there are only 3, maybe 6 depending on your standards for what counts as "commonly seen". In modern Japanese, most pronouns are things you only find in fiction.

The three genuinely common first-person pronouns are the traditionally masculine boku and ore, and the gender-neutral watashi. Watashi can be easily mistaken for feminine since that's what women default to in every situation due to the lack of other options, but it's a truly neutral formal pronoun that men are using all the time in professional situations. It's especially relevant here that watashi is not inherently feminine in any way.

Now to the relevant question. What pronoun Fujisaki uses for himself? The answer is boku, a markedly masculine pronoun, the same our male protagonist uses. This can be seen in Mondo's flashback with him, in the scenes contained his inner thoughts, the bonus mode/game scenes that have his secret revealed, and if that counts, how Alter-Ego talks as him.

Fujisaki's boku is a traditionally masculine pronoun, so he obviously didn't use it before the reveal. It's easy to spot this and call it a pronoun switch. These kinds of pronoun switches are a very common language trick and come in all sorts of circumstances in other stories, but Fujisaki's case becomes a lot more intriguing when you verify what it was changed from.

The expected answer is watashi. It's the perfectly gender-neutral pronoun, but it's a pronoun women use far more commonly than any feminine-specific pronouns. It's a perfect fit for the disguise and it's very easy to honestly say Fujisaki has no reason to feel any dysphoria using watashi as a man. It's something his male peers are expected to do when talking to teachers and that they'll need to do in their jobs as adults. But Fujisaki never says watashi before or after the reveals.

The actual answer is none. Fujisaki omits pronouns in every line of dialogue he has alive. Omitting pronouns is a completely normal part of dialogue in Japanese, so doing it 100% of the time is not something people normally do, but it is something you can get away with in Japanese without raising many eyebrows.

This 24/7 pronoun omission has always been a fascinating dialogue quirk to me because in my 12 years consuming stuff as a Japanese student and translator, this is something that I've never seen done before or after, and something no translation of DR1 could convey properly in English. It's a truly unique case as far as I'm aware.

Makes this gimmick work requires an extra level of attention and sometimes getting creative with phrasing, both in Kodaka writing out-of-universe and in Fujisaki speaking in-universe. Genuine work was put into making Fujisaki fiercely refusing to refer to himself with anything less than a fully masculine pronoun, no matter how much he felt "undeserving" of his gender.

Anyway, that's pretty much all on the side of Fujisaki's own self-expression. The question I'm mostly copypasting my own answer from was "which characters used which gender expressions in chapter 2" and I yapped about Fujisaki's own answer because that's the special and unique description trick that frequently occupies my mind, but I guess I'll drop the answer here as well.

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

The first point to be relevant is that many characters, including our PoV Naegi, use the honorifics san for the girls and kun for the boys. Naegi is the first to address Fujisaki after the reveal and he sticks to the san he always used. This continues even after the flashbacks give the full context of Fujimaru's situation.

Next, Celes mentions Fujisaki as "Fujisaki... kun", taking a big pause to indicate intent on the pronoun switch and attention to the habits she's trying to unlearn. Kirigiri, Geno, and Ishimaru also refer to Fujisaki in unambiguously masculine terms before Oowada reveals any of Fujisaki's perspectives on the matter. The rest don't say anything gendered, which is easy to do because Japanese is a really easy language to be gender-neutral on (this says a lot about the choices of the characters who did pick gendered words, perhaps).

How Oowada and Junko (Monokuma) address gender is discussed directly in the trial so I don't think I need to cover it here. They're also the only ones with full context during the trial, so it's not comparable to the 4 above deciding Fujisaki's gender based on fragmentary information.

And the last relevant new factor is Alter-Ego, who refers to its creator as "Goshujin-tama", aside from regularly using he/him. Goshujin-sama used by servants to address the specifically male lords they work for. As maids became a staple anime trope, you probably heard this one coming from a fetishized maid character. The reason why I'm specifying this is that Alter-Ego calls Fujisaki "Goshujin-tama" instead of "Goshujin-sama". The "honorific" tan is a variation of the classic honorific san, used primarily by otaku to address their anime waifus. The -tama there is a -sama equivalent of that. The blatant implication there is that Fujisaki designed his subservient digital clone to be attracted to him, which is categorically weird. That's another character element that the localization doesn't bother trying to convey, opting for a mostly sanitized "Master" as Alter-Ego's title of choice of Chihiro.

Then the next game has AI Nanami referring both to Fujisaki as her father and Alter-Ego as her brother, and I'm closing the post here because I'd rather not to think about how that makes Alter-Ego's title of choice weirder.

[hyacinthusmemorial]

is it only me, who goes like "Apollo must have flashback to hyacinth dying , when he saw Achilles and dead Patroclus,

Am I the only one who thinks of this? Okay

If that’s your personal head canon, go right ahead. Believe what you want to, nobody will stop you. 👍😉 I think its definitely a sweet sentiment, and a fun little brain worm.

But, I don’t think Apollo would react that way for for quite a few reasons. The first is mythology and the second is psychology and the third is genre.

The mythological reason is that Apollo is directly and purposefully responsible for Patroclus’s death, and he definitely hates Achilles. Like actually. The List of Top Ten People Apollo hates has Achilles twice on it. If he was in a room with Hitler, Stalin, and Achilles, and he had a gun with two bullets in it, he would shoot Achilles twice. He wants Achilles to suffer, and when Patroclus dies he tells Hector that he’s the third guy to kill him, but Apollo was the first to kill him. Because I think everyone in the Trojan war knows Apollo and Achilles hate each other. Apollo because Achilles murdered his sons (plural) and Achilles because he knows Apollo’s going to kill him. Reasons for their bitter rivalry can be found in this post here. There are more probably too.

As far as the psychological aspect, let’s assume Apollo’s psyche is like a human’s (which I do not think it totally is, but that’s another post). Trauma and Grief are two completely separate experiences. Grief is a normal human thing which we are given excellent coping skills to overcome by nature. People die. It’s a fact of life. But, HOW people die can be traumatic. For example, if your in a war and you watch your buddy die from a mine exploding and he doesn’t die right away, that’s traumatic. The grief is still separate from the trauma. Its closely aligned, but its separate. Trauma on the other hand is a situation that humans are not equipped to handle—its a situation outside the psychological norm. So our brain adapts normally to an abnormal situation.

I think the only true similarity between Patrochilles/Hyapollo deaths is that they were gay and one of them died before the other. If anything, Apollo was feeling a little vindictive when Patroclus died. He was the arm of fate that killed Patroclus, and Achilles absolutely deserved the death and destruction of everything he held dear in my POV. He was a serial assaulter and a war criminal.

Another reason why flashbacks just don’t work is because flashbacks are a trauma response. I think there’s a separate issue where one might live in the memories of a loved one’s passing, but that’s separate from a flashbacks. Flashbacks from PTSD are when the subconscious fear overwhelms the conscious. It requires a trigger, which can be anything and sinister—subtle and terrible. We know from the ancient authors that one of Apollo’s trigger is a westerly wind. @gingermintpepper had an excellent post providing several sources about Apollo’s approach to Hyacinthus and Asclepius’s deaths.

A flashback is a fear response in a situation that does not require this response based off of a trigger that puts the sub-conscious into a flight/fight mode and makes someone relive a previous traumatic experience. So for example Apollo might feel a western wind and relive Hyacinthus’s death or fear that Zephyrus is about to hurt him or the person he is with. This also depends on coping skills, and whether the person has developed grounding skills to put them back in the present.

I don’t believe that the situation with Patroclus/Achilles is triggering in the right way to elicit a flashback in Apollo. Patroclus and Achilles deaths are pretty different from Hyacinthus’s. So even if he had a grief response it would be minimal. At least from my perspective, one of my parents died when I was a child, and I had to take care of them while they were sick. I take care of a lot of sick people in my day to day, and I will say I rarely ever experience something that puts me back into the mode I was in when my parent died. I walk past the room my parent died in sometimes, cause I work in the hospital that they died in, and I am alright because I recognize the situation and I’m able to accept they died there. Alternatively, what does illicit a response in me is a certain smell my parent had when they were dying. I recognize it in patients sometimes, and I can have a visceral response to that, but again, I have learned how to appropriately deal with these sorts of things because “improve, adapt, overcome.”

Trauma is absolutely just a part of living in the world. Everyone has their own life story and troubles and triggers and struggles. But I don’t think Apollo/Hyacinthus connects to Patroclus/Achilles in any intense way.

Alternatively, I think perhaps something Apollo might have a more visceral response to is Hermes and Crocus, who are quite nearly the same dang story. That’s Apollo’s brother, and he loses someone the same way Apollo lost someone. That would open up gateways of intense suffering.

As far as genre goes, Apollo and Hyacinthus have a horror story parading as a romance story. Zephyrus is a sinister, invisible monster—he causes violence in a place where violence does not belong. On the other hand, Patroclus/Achilles is a war story—violence is expected. They both absolutely knew they were going to fie in that war, so their agony is expected from the beginning. Hyacinthus’s loss is unexpected and therefore, grievous. Not that losing your lover/cousin in a war is less horrific—it’s just prepared for, while losing your lover in a meadow while playing discus is…not.

I don’t mean that your personal view is wrong in anyway. Apollo is a divine character and anybody can have any view of him they would like. A lot of people view him as the antagonist of the Iliad and Achilles’ story, which to me, he just isn’t. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I love perspectives and opinions. I like sharing mine, so I love it when people share theirs.

[drdemonprince]

Hi Devon,

this might not be a question you can answer, or maybe it is! idk. this is about covid & alike

for context on myself, i’m a white gendrfucky trans guy who’s also autistic & an immigrant (so some cultural context is probably lacking)

as we know, we’re in a 2nd highest surge & the pandemic never stopped and it increasingly dangerous and disabling to so many

i wear my kn95 everywhere i go now, and while i tried last semester, it was a lot easier to abandon masking because of

1. others’ around me negligence

2. some classrooms being IMPOSSIBLY hot and close to unbearable with a respirator on

3. attending crowded events where people needed to hear me

i’ve reevaluated and am rebuilding my practices now, but what i’m finding really difficult is to get people i have in my life to wear a mask again

i feel so lost. i share the informational posts, i talk to my people, i offer masks- what else is there to do?? i know the exhaustion i feel is absolutely incomparable to what disabled and immunocompromised people feel, especially when they’ve done the work for years!

i just don’t understand how i’m supposed to keep moving through life. i mean ofc i’ll keep doing what i’m already doing but it’s so incredibly isolating to be the only person masked in a meeting of 20,30,50 people.

i don’t know how to make people care. i don’t know how to have conversations with my friends in a way that will let our relationship evolve with this new understanding of care. i don’t know how to not polarize people into defensiveness when i talk about the powers wreaking atrocities in falasteen being the same ones shortening an isolation period to 1 day.

i don’t know how to be eloquent enough to be listened to and firm enough where people take what i say seriously. i don’t know how to not start screaming WEAR A MASK anytime it’s a crowded (or even not crowded) meeting indoors with no air filtration.

idk how people don’t realize the “cold” they’ve had for 3 weeks is either covid or direct aftermath of it. idk how they stand for seemingly the right things and then come to work sick & unmasked.

i don’t know how to engage with most people in a meaningful way & find connections because the delusion, the “it won’t happen to me”, the “i don’t care if i catch it and die”, the “this is just the way it is” seems to be a wall made of unbreakable cement and i don’t know what will melt it.

i feel insane for having compassion towards the world and seeing how it can be better. i feel insane for being angry people don’t mask & downplay this issue. i feel insane for even trying to talk sense into people.

i’ve recently been called a lying phony by an account that talks about masking bc a lot of my recent pictures show my face without a mask. i archived the posts since, apologized and reflected. but a lot of pictures i take are in my own room so i am unmasked. idk

i feel like the gap between me and most people i know is growing wider by the minute and with every reading i do about interdependent revolutionary practices, etc.

i know that when one understands something, it is their responsibility to make an impact on their bubble of the world and transform it with their knowledge. but i doubt i’m the only one doing the reading and knowing what’s going on, i just seem to be the only one masking.

i don’t know. i’m sorry it’s such a long ask & i’m sure you have your own stuff you’re dealing with. i just don’t know who else to ask that might understand. i’m sure there are people around me who might but so many are in survival mode and i currently don’t know anyone with the capacity to hold space for this.

i guess it’s bold to assume you do.

anyway, i hope your day goes alright today<3

You are placing wayyy too much responsibility upon yourself as one compassionate and informed individual here, and expecting far too much perfection of yourself in ways that do not help you and do not help the cause. You've done a lot to unpack the terrible individualism that has led to anti-mask sentiment being so rampant, but you are in a way still applying that logic to yourself and your situation by imagining that if you, one humble person with limited power were able to be adequately persuasive, you'd somehow change the actions of thousands. That is not how behavior change works.

Persuasion almost never happens logically or instantly, almost never through one person's remarks. Behavior is shaped by a vast array of economic, sociological, emotional, and ideological factors.

It's also not helpful in my opinion to worry about the opinion of someone who would shame you for not wearing a mask at home alone in your bedroom, either. Obsessing over the optics of our actions and wanting all people to morally approve of us at all times is yet another consequence of individualism and Puritanism. as you well know as someone who masks in a crowd of maskless people, sometimes we gotta do what we know is right and disregard others' opinions.

What you can do, in my opinion, is this: keep masking. Your behavior reminds people of the need for masks and models socially responsible behavior. Bring spare masks with you. Offer them to your family and friends and the people standing near you in public. If they refuse, and you have a good relationship with the person where they have shown they respect you and listen to you, then you can tell them why masking around you is important to you. You cannot change the opinion of someone who has never shown you any respect so don't expect that to ever work.

Even if you do have a good relationship with someone, persuasion is a long, hard process. Do not expect yourself to change their mind. If you can get some people to mask at least around you, that is a victory. Perfection is an unrealistic goal here to expect of yourself, and for public health in general. Any improvement you can inspire is a victory. Even if it's just making one or two friends mask more often when they are with you. That still lessens risk. That still sends a visible signal to everyone around you. You have no idea of the impact you truly have on other people in the long term. It is both more modest and far larger and longer-reaching than you as an individual will ever know.

Please be easy on yourself. You are just a person. An average person with very limited power. So is everyone else for the most part. When you stop burdening yourself with the unrealistic responsibility of changing thousands of people's behavior, you will feel less resentful toward others as well. When we resent other people it always means we are doing too much.

And when you feel less overwhelmed and overburdened, you will be more effective in the conversations you do have with people about COVID too. People do not respond well to (what they perceive to be) guilt or intensity or someone presuming to know better than them. What people do respond to well is to be asked genuine questions, listened to, validated in their feelings, given help where they are facing barriers to action, and being treated with compassionate gentleness.

But to do that you have to work on believing that people who are flawed in their response to COVID have reasons for doing so that make sense to them, and that they aren't all foolish and lacking in compassion. As my friend @kim-from-kansas says, people do not do things that do not make sense. If a person's actions do not make sense to you, it is because you are missing a piece of their context. The sad fact is people have many reasons to think that masking doesn't work or is hopeless. People have been very heavily propagandized and trauma also makes many people value life less.

Convincing people to take COVID more seriously is a tall, tall order, but if you wish to do so, you will need to be more than correct. You will have to put real work into not making people feel judged, and you will have to make peace with not always (or even usually) succeeding. It sucks but that's how it is. Best of luck!!

[starryficsfinishwen]

“C'mon, Punchy! Sit!”

“Commandant,” the man sighs, metallic hand covering his handsome face, “Punchy is not a pet. It does not know any pet commands.”

At the Gray Raven lounge where you were residing for a well-needed break, Lee sits across you, intently watching as you curiously eyed the new, tiny visitor.

A small CUB, about the size of your head. You saw it in action a few times; he may be tiny, but he can morph into a large hand, capable of moving from an interdimensional hole, assisting Lee in his battles. In combat mode, you were certain it was made out of Entropy's hand, as you've held his hand a lot of times before. Punchy's screen reflected his usual expression, stoic and unamused.

“Really?” Your face contorts into a baffled expression, eyebrows knitted together and mouth pouting, “I assumed they did. Bianca's CUB knows a lot of pet commands.”

“Like what?”

“Like 'fetch'!”

You gaze expectantly at the stoic-faced CUB, assuming he'd move and do something. Instead, the screen reflected a big [?]. Pouting once more, you opted to scratch his chin— or whatever the edges of his screen were called.

“You treat it like a pet, Commandant.”

“Well, he's a new addition to the family,” you coped, tenderly caressing Punchy, “isn't that right?”

[¬､¬]

The screen reflected the emotion. Pouting once more, your resolve did not waver. Instead, you were determined to make it work.

“Oh no,” Lee sighs once more, before chuckling as he shook his head, “I shouldn't have it brought here. Asimov insisted-”

“-it's actually a great idea that Asimov brought him here,” you quickly interjected, opting to pat the CUB's head, “while Punchy is connected to you, we can at least learn now how they work! Besides, I have a theory.”

“Do tell.”

You look at Lee, beckoning him with a small gesture on your hand (which Lee thinks is too adorable), asking him to sit next to you. Although Lee had a neutral expression on his face, you looked beside you to see Punchy's screen changed.

[>///<]

Even if just for a flicker of a moment. Aha. You grin sinisterly.

“What's that look on your face, you look like you've thought of something.”

You look back to Lee, smiling genuinely. “Oh, nothing. But I did think of something.”

“What is it?”

Before you said anything, you gently took Punchy and put him on your lap, visible enough for Lee to see his expression. Like a villain, you thought, as you caressed Punchy's surface.

“Does this have something to do with it?”

“...do you remember when Noctis was summoned to Murray's office?”

That caught his attention, his eyes wide open and an eyebrow raised. It may seem that Lee was unamused with whatever was happening with Cerberus and Murray, or even with people in Babylonia, but Lee was one who liked gossip apart from anything else.

“As it turns out, Noctis had to beg in front of Murray so he can be forgiven. Do you know what he did next?”

“What?”

“Noctis had to clean every nook of Cerberus' lounge for weeks!”

A deadpan. But you know it wasn't. No, not when you noticed Punchy's screen light up.

[≧⁠▽⁠≦]

“Commandant, it's not funny,” (said he, even though Punchy's screen didn't change from the expression he had yet), “What does this have to do with-”

“-and how about Kamui, you know? He went back to Asimov to ask him to get another port so he could play, but as it turns out, the only available slot was in his forehead.”

[≧⁠▽⁠≦]

Your grin widens. Ah, the clear path to victory when you notice Lee trying to cover his laughter. You decided to throw in your other cards.

“You know, Lee, I asked about Lucia and Liv about us.”

[☉⁠｡⁠☉!]

The shock is evident also in Lee's face. You carefully say your words.

“They think that both of us are cute together,” you wiggle your eyebrows, “they wanted to know when our wedding is.”

[>///<]

Lee's face is only neutral, apart from the slowly creeping blush on his cheeks. “You do realize that weddings are a bit pricey lately.”

“Mm, yeah, but I think it's nice. I do want to get married one day.”

You lightly pat on Punchy's head, still aware of the expression on his screen. Looking down, on your ringless finger, you somehow envisioned what it would look like, should a ring be placed there. Your heart is seemingly full— a fleeting vision, that one day, you'll get married, and the groom would be...

You looked up. Looking into Lee's curious cerulean eyes, you beam a smile at him. “I hope we can get married someday. I really want to be with you, Lee.”

You don't know about the emote on Punchy's screen, but the blush and answer is already evident on Lee's face. You should be teasing more, as you normally should, but right now, you wanted to savor the moment as he took your hand, him unconsciously rubbing your ring finger.

“It would be nice,” he whispers, “as a way to show union, that is.”

Ah, never in your wildest dreams did you think the answer was already evident.

Your heart is overwhelmed with the answer.

“Kiss me, Lee.”

He does not hesitate. Lee leans forward to close the gap, soft lips eagerly kissing yours. It's soft, it's sweet, it's perfect enough to bridge your overwhelmingly full heart of love, poured over his empty cup. Both of you compliment and fit each other.

When Lee pulls away, your foreheads touch, seemingly not wanting to pull away. But he does, hesitantly so, but the blushes on your faces seemed to copy one another.

“Ah,” Lee shook his head, but the blush was still visible, pointing at the CUB in your arms, “w-what does this have to do with it?”

You lift up Punchy. And you grin menacingly.

[ ๑/////๑ "]

“Right, he's quite expressive, unlike his construct.”

Realization dawns on Lee's face.

“Despite Construct Lee's stoic expression,” you began your conclusion, “Punchy taps in his innermost feelings, thus reflecting what he has been feeling over the past few emotions.”

“Perhaps Punchy does know about you anyway,” you shrug, “since he's part of you.”

“I see,” Lee sighs, squeezing your hand, “Thank you, Commandant. I will write a report on it, then.”

“Don't call Punchy an 'it'!” You pout, pretending he has ears as you covered his side, cuddling in your arms, “he's part of you!”

Another realization dawns on you, gasping.

“Punchy is your child!”

“W-what?!” Lee sputters over your words.

[◎⁠д⁠◎!!]

The collective shock from the CUB and your lover made you laugh so hard. It didn't even need to be tested out, you should have done this in the beginning.

“God,” you wheezed, “I didn't know you were a daddy already, Lee.”

“Commandant,” Lee covers his red face, groaning, “please, no more. Don't call me that.”

“Whatever you say, Daddy Lee. We should take care of your child~”

“Commandant, no. Please.”

[ ๑/////๑ " ]

You patted Punchy's surface, before reaching out to cup Lee's cheeks, grinning. “I love you, Lee~”

Your lover only sighs, but you don't miss the smile on his face. “I love you too, [Y/N].”

shoutout to my best fwen @katsuonemars for inspiring me to write about this. they gave me a screenshot of Punchy's story, and motivated me to pull for Punchy as well as write about studying about him.

HEHE

— starry

[alpaca-clouds]

Astarion, Trauma, Depression & Healing

I just cannot stop thinking about this topic, so I am going to talk about it. Mind you, technically I could extend this topic to some of the other characters as well - maybe I will - but for now let me talk about our favorite vampire spawn.

The game does make an effort to give every character at least a somewhat happy or at least bittersweet ending. (With the exception of Karlach, really. Yeah, I am still bitter about it.) But of course the general way it goes about the character plotlines is that they basically remove one issue and then end.

And for me there is the question: What would realistically happen after the ending?

So, let me talk a bit about psychology.

This is for the vampire spawn ending.

Spoilers for all acts.

CW: Abuse, trauma, depression

Astarion is traumatized.

"No shit!" I hear you say.

But yes, he is traumatized. To be exact he has CPTSD. Complex trauma. The difference between this and normal trauma is, that it develops over a long time. Specifically when it is not one or even just a few traumatizing experiences, but it is a lasting traumatizing situation. And in the case of our dear vampire spawn it is a traumatizing situation that lasted for almost two centuries!

Being unable to escape a traumatizing situation means that people in those situations build coping mechanisms as a method of survival. And I would argue that Astarion's entire asshole snarky personality mostly is a coping mechanism.

There are a several aspects of the situation with Cazador, that were traumatizing.

Several people have already talked about how basically Cazador has subjected his spawn to basically every single kind of abuse. We know there was physical abuse (for fuck's sake, they were tortured on a regular basis), there was sexual abuse (they were forced into prostitution and there is some dialogue that say that Cazador also raped them), there was emotional and psychological abuse (just look how Cazador talks to Astarion - and how he played the spawn against each other), and there was also a general sense of neglect.

But there is also the fact that Cazador forced them to do bad things. Be it to catch those victims (who the spawn thought would die) and there is also a bit of evidence that he probably forced them to otherwise kill - maybe people who were in the way of his politics. After all he also was quite active within the politics of the city. We also know from some dialogue that Cazador used his absolute control over the spawn at times to force them to torture themselves or each other.

One big aspect of people in abusive relationships (be it romantic relationships - or familiar relationships) is that the abuser will try to take away any possible support. I do assume that him playing the spawn against each other and making them torture each other is partly meant to destroy trust between them.

And of course, they just could not get help from the outside. Partly because of his rules and command. And partly, too, because I assume any attempt to get help would end the potential helper's life.

We also know from Astarion's dialogue, as well as the narrator text in the Astarion origin that Astarion gave in fairly quickly and tried to just do what Cazador wanted him to do. But we also know that it basically made no difference because Cazador would find some faults he could punish Astarion for.

So, all in all Astarion spend about 200 years in constant survival mode.

Here is the thing: For someone who has spend two centuries in those condition he appears surprisingly... functioning. Sure, he is a snarky bastard. And yeah, he also cannot fathom you helping him without him paying you in sex. But he... well, he is not a pile of misery sitting in a corner.

There might well be a reason for this, though: He is still in survival mode (because of the entire tadpole and world ending thing), and he also has a concrete goal (kill Cazador). The big question is how he is gonna relate and work through the trauma after the end of the game, when both the life-or-death situation ended and Cazador is dead.

Because, look. Our boy is going to need to work through all of that trauma. There is no way around it. He needs to work through it and it is gonna be painful.

A lot of people with CPTSD do develop a depression - and I doubt that this precious vampire spawn is going to be any different. Heck, I am going to go so far and say that we do see him being depressed quite a bit even in the game, even as he tries to hide it.

We know from the game he has nightmares of Cazador. Nightmares that kinda mix memories with fears. And those are probably just going to be a fact of his life for a few years. So, sleep is going to be hard at times - and so is going to be other stuff.

There will be stuff that triggers him. In my stuff I write him as easily being triggered by sexual stuff - because there is so much trauma related to it - as well as getting triggered when he is reminded of his scars. But he is also quite good at triggering himself by falling down memory holes.

Given that when you play the Astarion origin we have at least two scenes (probably more, but so far I encountered it two times) where he halucinates Cazador being there and watching him, I would assume that this is also going to stay within his life. Him seeing or hearing Cazador, because it is just so engrained in his memory through trauma.

One big thing I see him struggling with most is, that everything he is right now is what Cazador made him. For better or worse, all his learned behaviors are because of Cazador. And Cazador of course wanted to shape him. If Astarion ends up with Tav (or one of the origin characters), I can also very much see that this is gonna be a big issue for him. Because Astarion needs to change to heal. He cannot let himself be defined by Cazador. But if Tav tries to help this along, Astarion might just think that Tav is just another person who tries to mold him into someone else. (And yes, this is a point of conflict that I bring into Voice of the Voiceless.)

Another issue I could see arise is avoidance behavior. Basically... Here is the thing, trauma will never quite go away - but it can get better, if you work through it. But working through trauma is very, very painful, which is why a lot of traumatized folks instead try to avoid this. Becaue while it leads to betterment on the long run it is more painful for the moment than just trying to forget about it and distract yourself.

And given just the amount of trauma, I can see that easily happening here.

There is another big thing, too, though. Some people have already pointed it out before, but... If romanced it is fairly clear that Astarion is very, very emotionally dependent on Tav. Which absolutely makes a lot of sense, given that from his perspective Tav is (probably) the first ever person in a long, long time, who is actually nice to him and helps him. But you have to see that this, in the end, also is a type of avoidance behavior. Tav is safe, so he just sticks to Tav like a shadow, basically.

It seems to me from the game that Astarion is one of the characters in camp, who very much stick to themselves. Like, you can gleam from dialgoues (even though I still gotta say, I wanted more scenes of the characters doing stuff together at camp) that Wyll and Karlach do hang out at camp. And that Halsin and Gale over time do also kinda take care of everyone. But Astarion mostly tries to stick to himself, not really making connections to anyone.

And I think that also is in a way part of avoidance behavior. Friends means opening himself up, which means having a weakness, which then brings fear of it being exploited. So... yeah, sticking to Tav and Tav alone is so much safer.

But, here, too I think it is something that he, if he wants to heal, needs to learn to overcome. To put it differently: This man needs some friends. He needs people in his life besides Tav. But to get him there might be hard.

I mean, let's be frank. This man needs therapy. He needs therapy so badly. But... I somehow doubt that there are therapists in Faerûn.

So, yeah... He needs to figure it somewhat out on his own, which is only gonna make this harder.

tl;dr

This man is a mess. And even if everything goes well, he is gonna be a mess for at least a few years. Because you just do not get over 200 years of trauma upon trauma, without being a mess somewhere in between.

[blitz0hno]

Why I'm Voting Inno Mikoto even tho He Definitely Did It

or should I say DID i-*🏏smacked*

TL;DR like many I do not believe a word John says, but I also don't think he has the entire truth. Meanwhile Mikoto's amnesia is near undoubtable. With two unreliable narrators and solid evidence of self-defense, I think we need more before declaring him guilty.

I'm here to be Mikoto's lawyer cuz John ily but you suck at it 😭

Now onto why I'm voting Inno:

Mikoto isn't lying when he says he doesn't remember murdering those people, at least not entirely. The memory is in his subconscious, but he can't even remember the faces of his victims because they were both so out of it.

I believe what we see in MeMe is safe to assume to be his first. The first mannequin smashed onscreen is this one:

That looks like a damn FNAF jumpscare lmao this tells me that his baseball hobby probably saved him from getting jumped at that train station, but it came at a heavy price.

That's where John comes in. To handle the feelings that undoubtedly came with taking a life and having to hide the evidence.

Generally in DID alter's memories fall into one of 3 categories (my observations of myself and other systems):

That event happened. These are all the details. I feel nothing about it.

That event happened and I remember everything I felt like it was seconds ago, but I couldn't tell you specifics

That event happened??

The latter two can safely be assigned to John and Bokukoto. The first one is what we're missing.

I saw someone point out how the train could symbolize that he can never go back (credit urself in the tags if u see this it was a good one) to before he killed.

That brings me to our final scene.

Remember how John split to handle the feelings of that stressor? The feeling of unsafety, pure adrenaline, and righteous anger at the attacker is a horrific thing, but once you experience it you change. In order for an alter to handle the reality of something, it must be accepted somehow. John's way of accepting it is not remembering their faces, only his expressions and actions. That's probably why he's so aggressive; constant fight-or-flight mode.

Mikoto (Bokukoto), like with whatever happened to him in early childhood to cause DID, is unable to accept these realities because doing so would shatter his world (it turns out constant fight-or-flight isn't great for your social life).

So about John's statement that he didn't know any of the victims even though he totally did, at least a little;

John is reading the room and there it is: unsafety, pure adrenaline, and righteous anger at the attacker. That's all he needs to feel to know that it's time to protect Mikoto.

That's not the face and mannerisms of a man who bashes skulls in for kicks. This shit was personal.

I can't tell if it's one or two victims in the second clip here, but I strongly believe they had something to do with his work. His subconscious is really harping on how much his boss got on him and how stressed it made him. Something happened that pushed them over the edge. You don't call your mom after you kill for fun (or maybe you do idk). You call your mom when you know you're fucked.

John initiated the second killing but I don't think he was the only one making a conscious decision. That said, I don't have enough details to condemn Mikoto to another unforgiven verdict.

So, where will we find that info? Well remember RGB Mikoto/Trikoto theory (kudos to whoever coined those too)? Well when I broke down the compartmentalization earlier I hinted that there's a strong chance that SOMEONE remembers every detail, but feels nothing and lays dormant.

Good old green Mikoto, the only one we haven't seen speak yet the one who's given us the most detail so far (via MeMe).

Even if not and Bokukoto remembers more than he's letting on/gets in contact with John, the crime itself isn't unforgivable beyond a shadow of a doubt yet even with multiple victims. His reasons are still cloudy.

Also I like him

[sadcupcake]

Winchester in Mystic Falls Part 5

So far tailing Elena and her friends has been entertaining to say the least. I've learned that she's still friends with Bonnie and Caroline. Bonnie was never cruel to me, she just ignored me like everyone else in town did. Caroline on the other hand was right there with Elena. They both tortured me my entire childhood. Most of it was emotional, the name calling, making everyone in my life ignore me and pretend that I didn't exist. Sometimes though they would go on some sort of power trip and hurt me. Looking back on that now I remember being so scared of them both, but now they look like weak little dolls in my eyes. What they put me through made me who I am today, it set me down a path to meet my brothers and for that I am grateful to them.

It doesn't surprise me that the three girls are still friends, just like it didn't surprise me when I learned Bonnie was a witch or that Caroline got turned into a vampire. What did surprise me was the fact that Elena is a doppelganger. Apparently it was one of Elena's doppelgangers that turned Caroline. Another interesting thing I learned was that the originals where in town. Sam and Dean learned about how vampires came to be when they captured one and had a little chat. That vamp was about 900 years old so they still knew the stories of the originals, it even claimed to be turned by one. I had yet to see one running around town but from what I've gathered they came here to sacrifice my sister to break a curse. If I had to take an educated guess it would be the curse placed on the hybrid.

If it really is the originals in town then I really need to hit the books to find something to kill them with. All of the lore I've read up to now had never mentioned a way to kill an original. As far as I know they are truly Immortal. Maybe I could just kill all the non original vampires in town and then hightail it out of here before they get wind of a hunter. Lets be honest I'm going to end up dead by the end of all of this.

I haven't talked to Elena since I got interrupted before I was able to have a little chat with her. I assume she's told her little boyfriends about what happened by now, so me getting within 10 feet of her again is out of the question. So making a scene in public is now my only option to find out what she knows. This whole thing is getting tiresome already. If it weren't for the innocent people dying I'd cut my loses by now. But I am a Winchester and Winchesters never back down from anything. Hell not even from the actual devil, and the Mikaelsons are no Lucifer.

getting back to my hotel room I get comfy on the bed with my laptop, if I'm going to find anyway to kill the originals I have to channel my inner Sam. Full on research mode. After hours of sitting and looking at the computer screen I've come up with one possible lead, one impossible lead. White oak. It's almost too good to be true but It's all I got. Some hunter in New Orleans had a story passed down generations in his family. Apparently the only thing that could stop an original was an original themselves, or a weapon one of them possessed. A dagger dipped in White oak ash. If the ash from this tree could put them to sleep imagine what the real thing could do. Unfortunately all records of the white oak tree say that it went extinct centuries ago. Another dead end.

Deciding that I've had enough of the headache that is research I get dressed and head back to the Grill. I'm starving, one of the things Dean and I have in common is our appetite. I think he was secretly happy to have someone around to out vote Sam on where we'd eat. Maybe if I'm lucky I can run into Elena again there, kill two birds with one stone.

When I walk into the Grill I spot them right away. Elena and her little gang looking directly at me. By the look on dumb and dumbers faces she defiently told them what I was going to do to her. I  sit down at a table ignoreing them the best I can until I can at least have somthing to eat. While I'm waiting on my food I notice two guys sitting at the bar again. Talk about deja vu. The vibe coming from these two is defiently dangerous but there's something else I can't quite place, It's like a comfort almost. Just as I'm about to stand up to go to them I get snapped out of my daze by my food arriving.

While I'm enjoying my food I start to notice everyone slowly leave the Grill. EVeryone apart from Elena and her friends, and the two guys at the bar who have now turned around to face us obiously interested in what is happeneing. I look up from my food to see my sister and her friends walking over to my table. Bonnie and Caroline are behing my sister and her two boyfriends are infront of her. Anyone would think shes the president with the way they protect her.

"How can I help you Elena, would you like some of my fries?" I question her, I always have to have the first and last words. Something Sam and Dean both love and hate about me.

"No I don't want you're fries Y/N, I want to know why you're in town and how you know about vampires" Elena says, she looks so serious I burst out laughing.

"Sorry, you acctually think I'll just tell you because you asked. Wow you really have no idea who I am now do you Elena?" I stand up as I ask my question getting ready for a fight. By the way everyone clings to Elena's side I guess they are too.

[her-devils-advocate]

Through the Mist | Part 3

pairings: Femshep x Garrus

summary: When a routine mission to rescue and recruit a handful of scientists goes wrong, Shepard and her team are left to fight against something they had never expected to face. Now stranded on a heavily fog-covered planet, they realise there is more to the strange weather than they originally thought, especially when they hear things from beyond the fog; calling for them.

word count: 4,742

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60592000/chapters/155683033

Part 1 | Part 2

Shepard limps aimlessly around the room. All of Garrus’ consistent protests for her to sit fall on deaf ears as she relentlessly searches every nook and cranny for information. Despite her meticulous rummaging, her attempts lead her to nothing but dead ends. Her hands curl into tightly held fists and despite the thick material protecting her hands, she can still feel her nails digging into her palms. 

The sensation helps to ground her, if only for a fleeting second. A million thoughts begin to rush through her mind as she forms plan after plan, each one falling short for one reason or another; not enough information, not enough visibility, or not enough people.

“You’re not enough,” she thinks briefly, the thought shocking her out of her hyperfocused state. It rattles around her brain, hitting every concealed sore spot with deadly precision.

The lamp flickers, casting an array of shadows around them for a brief second. It was only a slight flicker, barely noticeable under any other circumstance, and yet Shepard felt her lungs constrict. Her past experiences have trained her to assume the worst at all times.

She watches as Garrus falls back into his past C-Sec mode, still scanning through dozens of old reports and making mental notes of anything that stands out to him. He works silently, with the occasional hum breaking her concentration and pulling her amused eyes over to his corner. 

He stands still besides the occasional shuffle to keep his legs awake. The clinking of metal and rustling of paper encase his space while his mind processes everything. She watches him tilt his head to one side, deep in thought, before slowly nodding to himself in agreement—a gesture of hers that has rubbed off on him, no doubt.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” He mumbles to himself, flicking through the same report for the hundredth time. He turns to meet her gaze, gesturing down at the collection of records. “Nothing here seems to be relevant to the planet or the research bases. It’s like someone’s made a collection of random reports to throw people off their trail, nothing is linked.”

“What sort of stuff is it?” She asks wearily, half-expecting the bad news before it had been delivered.

“Noveria stock reports, biology reports on all council species, Attican Beta transport routes, ‘The Art of Live Subjects’: A published dissertation by Dr Ross.” He reads out before dropping the datapad back onto the shelf. “You’d think someone would have left at least one piece of evidence behind.”

“If it was a harmless project that went wrong, then maybe.” She says, her mind filtering through what little information she has. “But from what we’ve seen already, I don’t believe any of this was a mistake.” 

“Cerberus?” Garrus asks, his voice hardening as he struggles to hide the small growl threatening to follow the word.

Shepard simply scrunches up her nose and shakes her head, “It better not be, otherwise I’m going to be even more pissed, but I don’t think it's them this time. As resourceful as they are…The stuff it…” 

She trails off and her shoulders relax when Garrus picks up her sentence for her, “Hm, you’re right. It was far too personal, almost tailored to hurt us in a specific way. Even with their connections, Cerberus couldn’t have that much accuracy on our weaknesses.”

“Yeah, about that, how are you doing?” The words come out hurried, as if speaking of the events might summon a new round within their sanctuary. “I know I said we’ll talk about it on the Normandy, but that was… intense.” 

He gives her a half-hearted shrug, “No better than how you’re probably doing, all things considered. It was weird, but it’s nothing I've not already told myself anyway. You were right before though, we will have time to spill the lions or whatever once we’re back on the Normandy and not waiting for it to strike again.”

That startles a laugh out of her, and if the proud smile on his face is any indication, his plan was a success.

Now safe from what awaits them in the fog, Shepard finally lets herself drop down against the wall. Her armour clunks against itself while she shuffles to rest her injured ankle on top of the other. The pain throbs up her leg, the swollen appendage pressing painfully against the firm fabric of her boots. She lets her head fall back as a new wave of pain washes over her, all the adrenaline that had kept her active now fades away into bone-deep exhaustion. Her mind feels like it’s been set alight, buzzing with ancient anxieties and long-buried memories that have been dredged back to the surface.

Her skin prickles and a heavy weight falls over her like a blanket. Familiar feelings overtake her, feelings that she has since tried to forget: regret, loss, and helplessness. 

It has been a long time since she let the sensation of failure fall over her. With too much to do and far too much to lose, it had been much easier to push them deep down. 

The room suddenly feels too hot, a sickly oppressive feeling seeping in through the cracks and into her flesh. The walls close in on her and Shepard has to bite her tongue to hold back the strangled groan clawing up her throat. She suddenly feels like the scared sixteen-year-old girl she was and not the thirty-two-year-old, battle-hardened woman that she is.

The safety of the building is beginning to feel more and more like a gilded cage, whatever respite she had is being rapidly sucked away from her with each passing second. Something unknown sneaks inside of her, urging her to move. The stillness burns at her flesh.

“This is all your fault, you brought them here. And now one of them is lost, dealing with who knows what.” Something whispers in the back of her mind in an unrelenting caricature of her voice.

“Do you think James is alright?” She asks if only to drown out the thought. Her eyes are trained firmly on the ceiling.

Garrus pauses his work for a moment as he considers her question, “We’ve gone through worse so I doubt he’s in trouble. He probably got the lucky side of things and reached the others to let them know the situation.”

“Have we?” Shepard’s voice is quiet, almost a whisper as she lets her eyes fall shut. “Gone through worse, I mean.”

“Shepard?” The concerned trill of his subvocals floats around her, loud enough to fill the small room.

“Can you honestly say you’ve been through worse than what we’re currently up against? It’s not like we can exactly shoot our way, or talk our way, through this.”

“Well…Yeah, I can, Shepard.” His voice is tense and he awkwardly shuffles to lean against the wall, idly adjusting his gloves just to have something to do with his hands. “We’ve already gone through the stuff it’s throwing at us. As much as it hurts to re-experience, it’s not exactly new to us, in a way.”

That catches her attention and she slowly drops her eyes from the ceiling to fall upon him. She can’t read his expression, which is rare for her after all the time spent by his side, yet the look in his eyes causes her heart to crack.

“Garrus… I’m sorry, you’re right. What would I do without you?” She lets out a long breath, feeling her lungs and eyes burn. 

“We both know you would kick just as much ass with or without me, Shepard. I’m just here so you can do it in style.” He tries to joke, but the words come out too slowly, his voice wavering with each word. “I’m scared as well, for the record.”

Her eyes fly open and her head snaps to look in his direction. Garrus is avoiding her gaze, purposefully shuffling his evidence around as if it could drown out his admission. Her protective instinct wakes up from its slumber and she slowly rises to her feet. She has to use the wall as leverage, palming at it firmly while she shuffles over to the door. She runs her hand through her long hair, parts of it falling loose from the braid she wears during missions. 

“Where are you going?” Garrus asks warily, refusing to look away from her.

“To get some air and to check our surroundings, there’s no point in having both of us cooped up in here. I might as well make sure nothing is trying to break in while you scan through all those.” She waves her hand in the direction of his small pile of records and datapads, neither of them willing to address the way her hand trembles.

“Are you insane, Shepard?” He counters automatically, his voice echoing in the space between them. She turns to stare at him with a single, slender eyebrow raised. He breathes in slowly, holding his breath as he considers his words. “Look, we don’t know what we’re up against. It’s your call, but… I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Alright, so I’ll stick my head out of the door and shoot anything that approaches,” she says bluntly.

“Spirits, Shepard.”

“We’re never going to know what we’re up against if we stay hidden away in here, Garrus.” She argues before relenting, giving him an apologetic smile. “Look, I understand your concern. I’ll keep the door open and I won’t leave your line of sight unless it’s strictly necessary, okay?”

Garrus gives Shepard a long look before slowly nodding. He turns to lean against the wall so he can watch her, grumbling something about “stubborn humans going to give their boyfriend an aneurysm” under his breath the entire time. She gives him a soft look before flaring her barrier and letting its soft, blue light encase her form.

She opens the door slowly, her body thrumming with built-up biotic energy at the ready. The air is still as if the breeze they felt upon their arrival never existed. The pair hold their breaths as the fog snakes its way into the room, yet nothing follows. The night is silent, no shuffling or groans breach the darkness. She strains her ears to be certain, not wanting to be ambushed by god knows what, but the only thing she hears is the frantic thumping of her heart. Shepard lets out a relieved sigh, her body keeping up its protective glow.

“See, everything is fine.” She says casually, her tense shoulders doing little to help her calm facade. 

“Sure, but that doesn’t explain where the horde of corpses went. They have to be out there somewhere.” Garrus calls from his corner, watching her like a hawk. 

Shepard shakes her head as the fog curls around her, feeling heavy on her flesh. She lifts her arm and extends it out of the door, she’s mesmerised by how it floats around her and sneaks into the small gaps in her armour. “Do they?”

Garrus cocks his head at her, he carefully places the datapad to one side before rising to his feet. She watches him for a moment before turning her head to stare outside. She lets the fresh air wash over her, cooling her skin. As she stares deeper into the darkness, not a single star or moon in the sky above, she spots something. Someone.

She squints, willing her eyes to focus while her hand twitches with the urge to grab her rifle; if only to feel the comforting weight of it in her hands. The figure moves closer and the fog almost seems to part itself to reveal the person within. She feels her heart stop before solace sparks through it instead.

“Vega?” She calls, hope blooming in the words. She’s already moving, letting the fog pull her further outside. “Garrus, stay here.”

She hears Garrus sprint forward, not caring about damaging any of the reports scattered around him as he reaches to grab Shepard’s arm. 

She’s too quick and is instantly swallowed by the consuming darkness, leaving nothing but mist in his grasp.

“Shepard?” Garrus shouts into the night, the words coming out frantic. She turns to give him a reassuring smile, only to find that she is alone. Her smile becomes strained and her cheeks begin to ache from the expression now frozen upon her face. 

Where the building had been just a second ago now sits an empty void, fog and darkness as her only companions. She closes her eyes and inhales deeply, the thick air sticking to the back of her throat. A rare, yet naive part of her hopes that once she opens her eyes, she will be back in the room. Garrus will be in his corner complaining about a lack of evidence. 

Too late to regret her every move, she exhales slowly. She opens her eyes to stare into nothingness once more.

She grits her teeth, “Garrus, can you hear me? I can’t see you.” Her words come out desperate, her lower lip beginning to wobble. There is no answer and she has to bite back the shaky sigh that threatens to escape her. “For fuck’s sake.”

Her heart begins to race and her hands begin to shake, but she pushes forward towards James. She had already let him slip from her side once before, this time she refuses to let him be snatched away.

“Garrus will be fine, he’s inside the base. Just grab Vega and find wherever the base is. Then we will get the hell out of here.” She mutters to herself, believing her own words less and less. 

She hobbles over to the younger soldier, glad to see that he’s unharmed despite everything that’s happened. She reaches out to pat him on the shoulder but makes no contact, her hand slides right through him as he flickers in the fog.

“...James?”

“Commander,” he answers, his voice disjointed and wrong.

She stares up at him, her pale eyes morphing into a glare. “What are you?”

James lets out a low laugh, the sound coming out deeper than normal. “Can’t you tell, Lola? Aren’t you supposed to be smart?”

She freezes, completely taken aback by his words. The eager lieutenant would never dare to speak to her like that. She wants to argue, to demand what it’s done with her squad member, but James pins her with a cold look.

“Nah, I guess you’ve always relied on luck, haven’t you?” He begins to circle her like a shark, the movements are sharp and jagged compared to his usually casual actions. “Is luck gonna win us this war, Commander?”

“I don’t know what you are, but you’re wrong,” she replies while his words stab at her heart. “We are going to win this war, all of us, united together to defeat the reapers.”

“Uh-huh. How can you unite a galaxy when you can’t even help yourself, Commander?” James looks her up and down, appraising her before scoffing, the action expells a small puff of fog from his lips. Shepard feels a hot flush of anger and moves to jab a finger at his chest, feeling more fury when she simply phases through him.

“I don’t know what you are talking about considering we’ve done a fairly good job so far. We have the turians, the krogan, the quarians, the geth, and even the rachni.”

James just smiles, his eyes dull and void of life. “What about the asari? What about Thessia?”

She bristles, white-hot guilt running through the fresh scar. Since the invasion of Earth, things haven’t been perfect, but Thessia was a whole new level of misery for her. Shepard’s jaw tenses and her teeth grind together while she slowly builds her composure back up, small brick by brick. “Thessia was…a failure.”

“Yup,” he drags the word out, letting the sharp pop of the word ring through Shepard’s ears. “Maybe that’s why you’ve been so careless, Lola.”

“What?” She asks coolly.

“It’s not like you to rush in so carelessly, is all I’m saying. You hardly had any info and it’s not like it was a time-sensitive mission. But you just charged in and dragged us into hell with you, all because Hackett asked nicely.” He replies, his tone equally unfriendly as his eyes bore into hers. “What were you hoping to achieve with this mission, Commander? Redemption? Payback? To prove that you are still worthy of our support?”

“I was…” She clears her throat, letting conviction fill her voice, “I was doing my damn job. We need people to build the catalyst, so Hackett sent me to get people.” 

The figure with James’ face just laughs, the sound is harsh and ragged against her ears. She clenches her hands into fists, teeth digging into her cheek as she stares at him. She watches as his mirthful face warps and flutters before he fades from sight, “keep believing that and you will stay lost, Lola.”

Shepard is left alone in the darkness. She is alone and cold, and as much as she would rather die than admit it out loud, she is very afraid. The black void around her sinks into her heart, weighing it down. 

She drops to her knees and her armour cushions her fall. She presses her forearms against the ground, leaning against them and feels as if her body is made out of lead. She lets her head drop, her inky hair covering her face as she struggles to breathe.

Her chest is tight, too tight to allow enough air to pass through her lungs. Her chest burns with each attempt. Her fingers curl against the floor, digging in as deep as they can as she gasps for air. Panic claws at Shepard’s throat with an icy touch, her fingers move of their own accord to mimic its ghostly caress; her chest begins to heave with every syncopated breath.

“What a sight,” she mutters miserably, “the renowned commander on her knees in the middle of a mission. Another mission that I’ve fucked up as well.”

A gentle touch on her shoulder sharply brings her back to the present and she jumps to her feet with a strangled gasp, instantly unholstering her rifle in the process. Her muscles ache from how tightly she holds herself together and she stares up at the turian standing in front of her with wide eyes.

“Garrus?” She chokes out as she lowers her weapon and attaches it to her back. She gives him a watery smile as she moves closer, seeking comfort in his presence. “You startled me there, big guy. Did you have to sneak up on me like that?”

He just shrugs, his mandibles flicking out too quickly for her to discern the emotion.

“Did you find anything?” She asks quickly.

He repeats the action, looking over her head and deeper into the night. Shepard tenses and crosses her arms against her chest to hide the shiver that shoots through her.

“Did something happen to you as well?” She tries again, trying not to take offence when he simply looks away again and begins walking away. “It’s alright, Garrus. It’s difficult now, but we will make it back home.”

She has to scramble to catch up with him, his longer legs letting him cover more ground. Worry gnaws away at her while she watches him out of the corner of her eye. He wears an expression that she can’t quite pinpoint, his mandibles are too stiff and his eyes are unfocused. Without any warning, his pace begins to quicken, turning into a small jog. She tries to match his pace and her ankle protests with each step as she runs alongside him.

She grits her teeth and pushes through the pain, refusing to leave his side again. His silence unnerves her. Each moment slips by without a word, only the sound of their boots hitting the floor and her muffled groans accompany them.

He comes to a sudden halt, staring down at the ground with a frown.

“Garrus, what’s wrong?”

“You really wouldn’t be able to do anything without me, would you?” His voice cracks out at her like a whip, the duel tones of his voice ringing out with his discomfort.

“What do you mean? Where is this coming from?” She keeps her voice sharp, hoping that the bluntness of her regular ‘commander voice’ can hide the hurt within.

“Where is this coming from?” He repeats, disbelief colouring his words. “Maybe the fact that I have done everything for you. I left my job at C-Sec to follow you. I was ready to throw away my life for your suicide mission. I am the only reason you haven’t worked yourself to death and lost us this damn war.”

She opens her mouth to reply, but no words come out. Garrus stares at her before rolling his eyes and continuing, “But what have you done for me, Shepard? You weren’t even there for me when my mother died.”

“Garrus, I was under Alliance custody. I would have done everything in my power to support you regardless. But I was locked up without any form of contact or information.” Her voice wavers and she can feel her pulse race.

He moves closer, now towering over her. She refuses to meet his eyes, unable to cope with what she might see in them.

“You always have an excuse, don’t you?” He lets out a hollow laugh, moving closer. “And why were you in Alliance custody again? Does the number three thousand and five hundred ring any bells?”

Shepard feels something snap inside her, a burning coil that warms her chest and laces her tongue with a bitterness she only reserved for the mirror. “No, you do not get to use that against me. You don’t get to use any of that against me. It was the Bahak system or the galaxy, I didn’t have much of a choice and you know that. I know you do.”

He gives a lazy shrug. His mandibles flick out and he opens his mouth to reply before she interrupts him, “I’m not finished. You have always had the choice to follow me, so don’t put that on me if you’re regretting it now.”

“Yes, because you are perfect and can do no wrong.” He moves closer, the fog growing more opaque. 

“I never said that.” She argues, her vision wavers with the tears she refuses to let fall in front of him.

“That’s why you worked with a terrorist organisation.” He takes another step, ignoring her distress.

“That’s not why, I had no choice.” She takes a step back, his face distorts and warps as he follows her.

The air around her drops, and her skin freezes when she looks back at Garrus. His features are now missing entirely, nothing more than a shadowed figure flickering in the fog.

“You always have a choice, maybe you just pick the bad option every time, Shepard.” His voice is followed by the familiar static, ringing loudly in her ears.

Shepard flinches, startled by the sudden, almost deafening noise. Her heel catches on something hard sticking out of the ground and she topples backwards. She throws her hands out to soften her fall, trying to prevent yet another sprain. Her eyes are shut tight as she tries to keep her tears from falling. 

When she finally sits up and reluctantly opens her eyes, the figure is gone. 

She remains on the floor, her limbs suddenly feeling heavier than an elcor as hot tears begin to flow down her cheeks. Her heart pounds against its skeletal case with a frantic beat and she has to bite down on her fist to muffle a sob. Fury and anguish dance inside of her, mixing and stealing away what resolve she had left. Her body begins to shiver, growing worse with each sob.

Something sharp pokes against her thigh. There's something solid and freezing protruding from the ground, but Shepard can’t find the strength to move from her position. She would have to move eventually, too many lives depend on her continued survival, but for now, she lets the shock wash over her; far too tired to fight against it. The fog sits heavily against her tears, sticking against the wet trails they’ve left down her cheeks.

A sudden tap in the distance breaks her out of her wallowing. She tilts her head to listen, the sound repeating in a soothing pattern. 

The taps grow louder, the rhythm becoming more recognisable as they grow closer. The sound of boots against stone. Heavy boots. 

She curls her hand into a fist, letting her biotics flow down to cover it in a shield, waiting for her to strike. She remains frozen on the ground, letting the fog wash over to cover her. She has never felt more like the predator and prey than she does in this moment.

She hears the familiar click of a thermal clip sliding into a rifle. It causes her to flinch and she whips around with a dizzying speed. She darts towards the figure, her glowing blue fist raised to strike. Her biotics drown them in a bright light and moments before she makes contact, she spots a very stunned turian staring back at her through the blue haze.

Shepard quickly pulls her fists back, letting the power die and taking the light with it.

“Spirits, Shepard. I didn’t realise that was you.” Garrus powers up his omni-tool, shining it in her direction to get a better look.

“No, get away from me,” she commands as more tears rush down her cheeks. They glitter in the orange glow of his omni-tool. “Not again, I don’t want to do this again.”

He falters for a moment, watching as she shrinks away. He watches as she hunches over, gripping her chest tightly as she struggles to breathe. Garrus ignores her order and reaches for her. He gently places his hand on her elbow, pulling her closer to him so he can press his forehead against hers.

“Shepard, sweetie… What happened?” His voice is a whisper and his fingers curl in her hair, grounding and soothing her with each stroke. She is tense, but the more she breathes in the familiar scent of metal and gun oil, she feels her traitorous body begin to relax.

“You’re not real.” Her voice cracks at the admission. 

“You are Commander Raven Shepard. The best damn CO I’ve had the pleasure to serve under, the most reckless one as well. You are also the kindest woman I’ve met and the love of my life. Shepard, I’m here, this isn’t a trick.” He moves to nuzzle her, wiping away the rest of her tears with his hand. She lets out a soft sigh when he moves to cup her cheek, gently stroking her cheekbone with his thumb.

“Then the stuff you said. You didn’t mean it?”

“The stuff it said was wrong.” He sighs and Shepard feels his hand shake against her skin. “If it was anything like what I had thrown at me, then yeah, it was wrong.”

That gets her attention and her head snaps up to look at him, her eyes shine more than sadness now. “What happened?”

Garrus rubs the back of his neck with the hand not clutching her, as if she might slip away again. “Oh, you know, the usual. I’m sure we will have a day-long mission debrief to go through all the wonderful experiences we’ve had.”

“But are you alright?” She questions, catching his hand and holding it tightly. She rubs small circles on the back of his hand.

“I feel like I should be asking you that.”

“Well, you know, the usual,” she echoes, giving him a small smile before rolling her shoulders and taking a deep breath. “So, James wasn’t actually James. Which still leaves us a squad member down.”

Garrus lets out a small hum as he surveys the new area they’ve reluctantly found themselves in. “So, something is trying to separate us? It would make sense, or maybe…”

He trails off, letting his words fizzle out when he nudges something with the tip of his boot. The loud clank of his heavy armour hitting its target confirms his thoughts.

Shepard watches as he squints, waving his omni-tool closer to the ground. “Shepard, this looks like a hatch. There’s something below us.”

[anonymousewrites]

Logos and Pathos (Book 3) Chapter Twenty-Nine

TOS! Spock x Empath! Reader

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Festival of Psychics

Summary: (Y/N) and their friends take on the Ogawans to protect Celia.

            “We haven’t seen what Ainoi did to (Y/N) and Alekto,” said Bones, worried. “You’d think he’d’ve come to gloat by now.”

            “Or at least tell his men,” said Kirk.

            “Captain, they don’t have communicators,” said Uhura, glancing at the guards.

            “It is interesting that none of the Ogawans speak to each other. It would suggest another mode of communication,” said Spock.

            “Have you noticed anything about the Ogawans that might help us?” said Kirk, looking at the Counselors.

            Helle shook their head. “Their emotions show up stronger for us, but their psychic abilities make it clear why.” They furrowed their brow at the memory of what the Ogawans could do.

            “Have you seen how they communicate with each other? If we could intercept something and figure out their plans in advance, we’d be able to create our own plan,” said Kirk.

            “We have no idea how they communicate,” said Coronis.

            “The only one who ever spoke over calls was Ainoi,” said Hyperion.

            “It was as if they already had every response planned. He never needed to pause or confer with anyone before responding to us,” said Leander.

            “That’s impossible,” said Uhura. “Even the best negotiators have to check with their superiors when new topics and ideas are brought up.”

            Bones nodded. “We’ve seen (Y/N) work on the fly, but even they check with Kirk with their empathy to ensure he’s satisfied.”

            Spock raised an eyebrow. “Is it possible the Ogawans are using the same technique?”

            Everyone turned to stare at him.

            “Spock, would you want to maybe explain?” said Bones.

            “We are assuming the Ogawans are only capable of psychic attacks,” said Spock. “It is possible they have additional abilities.”

            Uhura perked up. “Could telepathy be the answer to how they communicate?”

            “It would explain everything we’ve had questions about,” acknowledged Spock.

            “And it would still work with them being psychics,” said Coronis.

            “Their emotions due always seem very similar,” said Rhea. “If they share minds through telepathy, their emotions would be linked, too.”

            “So a psychic link between them all,” said Kirk.

            “Well, I’m no psychic, so how does that help us?” asked Bones.

            “People with psychic bonds are often weakened if their companion is,” said Hyperion.

            Helle nodded. “We see it commonly in married and bonded Celians sharing feelings.”

            “It is likely the Ogawans may share sensations as well,” said Nereus.

            Kirk put it together. “So if we defeat one Ogawan, we may defeat them all.”

            “A chain reaction,” translated Bones, getting straight to the point.

            “However, not all psychic bonds are strong enough to affect all members,” said Spock. “You would need to choose the right Ogawan, or else you’ll only affect the closest ones.”

            “Ainoi,” said Uhura. “He’s the leader. He has to be the center of the bond, creating all of the links with the others. Like a hub for communications—if it goes down, all channels go down.”

            Kirk furrowed his brow. “Alright. So we get to Ainoi and take him down, and it’s all over.”

            “Two problems,” said Bones. “First: We’re stuck here. Second: how do we do a psychic attack?”

            Kirk furrowed his brow. “Oh, uh…”

            “I specialize in negative emotions,” said Rhea. “I could try to affect the guards around us with fear or anger to disorient them so we have a chance to fight them.”

            “And if we get communicators, we can tell Alekto and (Y/N) to handle Ainoi,” said Uhura.

            “Wait,” said Hyperion. “This presents a risk to them.”

            “Ainoi knows their abilities,” acknowledged Spock.

            Hyperion shook his head. “No, that’s not it. The problem is their empathy. The strain of having to affect so many people are once…it will be draining.”

            Nereus nodded. “It will exhaust their mind and body.”

            “Does it risk their life?” said Spock, instantly on guard for (Y/N). He remembered the incident with the strange infection that had caused his and so many people’s inhibitions to lower. (Y/N) had combated their volatile emotions and passed out from the stress.

            “It may,” admitted Hyperion.

            So this would be even more dangerous. Spock didn’t like that. He didn’t want (Y/N) in danger.

            “Ambassador Alekto specializes in negative emotions, but she isn’t accustomed to such a large group,” said Helle worriedly.

            “But (Y/N) is strong,” said Uhura. “Alekto told us their empathic abilities are strong even for Celians.”

            “That is true,” said Leander. “Their scores in schooling were impressive. We were sad to see them go off-planet. However, this sort of strain is unprecedented. It will be fighting against other psychics’ minds and manipulating their emotions simultaneously.”

            “What if they worked together?” asked Bones. “Spread the burden.”

            “It would create less of a risk,” said Rhea.

            “Okay. Then we tell Alekto and (Y/N) to take on Ainoi together,” said Kirk.

            “Okay, then we need to decide how to get the communicator,” said Bones. “Or we’re toast.”

            “Counselors, are you willing to risk yourselves for your people?” said Kirk.

            “Of course,” said Coronis, and the others nodded in strict affirmation.

            “Then on the count of three, take down the Ogawans around us,” said Kirk. “Bones, stand by with hypos in case some of the Ogawans resist. Uhura, Spock, and I will aim to get the communicators.”

            “One…” The group readied.

            “Two…” The Celians raised their hands, and Bones flipped open his medical bag.

            “Three.”

            They all rushed forward. The Ogawans turned in alarm and raised their guns, but the Counselors grabbed six by the arms. They forced every negative emotion they could muster—even those that specialized in positive feelings—and the Ogawans collapsed. The ones untouched fell as well, the psychic links spreading the sensation through the group gathered in the room.

            Kirk, Uhura, and Spock grabbed their communicators, and Kirk flipped his open once he confirmed it was in working condition.

            “Kirk to (L/N).” Nothing. “Kirk to (L/N).”

            “What if they don’t get to their communicator?” said Bones as the group began to head into the hall to find another place to hide.

Undoubtedly, ten Ogawans going silent in the psychic link would provoke a response.

            “They will,” said Spock. “They will.” (Y/N) was the toughest person he knew. If anyone would fight for Celia, it was them.

l

            “This probably isn’t the best idea you’ve ever come up with, is it?” said Alekto.

            “Nope,” said (Y/N), picking up the chair of the office. “But at least it’s not a stupid one.”

            They threw the chair at the wall, and it broke with a cracking sound that reverberated off the walls. Within a moment, the two guards swept into the room with guns drawn.

            “Hi,” said (Y/N) brightly the moment that Alekto stepped out and grabbed their necks, forcing fear into their bodies and causing them to collapse.

            Alekto took a deep breath and looked at them. “It’s been a while since I had to actually manipulate someone’s emotions like that.”

            “Oh, really? I did it last week,” said (Y/N), looking through the Ogawans’ pockets for their communicator.

            “What?” said Alekto.

            “Yeah, there were power-hungry psychics,” said (Y/N).

            “Those seem to be common,” said Alekto.

            “Unfortunately,” said (Y/N), pulling out their communicator. It beeped, and (Y/N) breathed a sigh of relief as they turned it on and Kirk’s voice came over it.

            “Kirk to (L/N),” he said.

            “(L/N) here, Captain,” said (Y/N).

            “(L/N)!” said Kirk happily. “Are you and Alekto safe?”

            “Heading out of our cell now,” said (Y/N). “Have you figured out a way to deal with the Ogawans?”

            “They’re psychically bonded,” said Spock, and (Y/N)’s heart skipped a beat at his voice. “If you affect one, the others are affected.”

            “And we need to get to Ainoi since he’s the center for all the bonds,” said Kirk.

            “But you and Alekto must work together to subdue him since the strain of such empathy risks your deaths,” said Spock sternly, communicating his worry through strict adherence to the plan.

            “Right,” said Alekto.

            (Y/N) just glanced at her. They knew the exhaustion empathy could cause. And they knew they couldn’t let anyone they cared about else risk their lives. Not if (Y/N) could do something about it.

            “Got it, Captain,” said (Y/N). “We’ll handle Ainoi. Try to get the Counselors out of here.”

            “Good luck, (L/N),” said Kirk.

            “Be smart,” said Spock. “Please.”

            “I will, Spock,” said (Y/N), and then they switched off the communicator. Smart enough to make sure no one else has to get hurt other than me. They reached out, grabbed Alekto, and forced exhaustion into her.

            “Hey-What—” Alekto collapsed.

            (Y/N) caught her and laid her down. “Sorry, Alekto. I can’t let you get hurt.”

            They looked around themselves. Ainoi wants to make a point. He needs to be able to see other Celians. So…a view of the lawn. They looked out of the room and spied the staircase near them. Oh, a roof. Lovely. (Y/N) narrowed their eyes. Alright. Empath vs telepath. Let’s go.

l

            “Alright, where do you think they’re storing the device that’s keeping us in?” said Kirk as he, Spock, Uhura, Bones, and the Counselors of Celia crept through the halls of the Council Building.

            “Close to the entrance,” said Spock. “We didn’t have a chance to look since our immediate concern was the counselors, but it is the most likely place.”

            “Can you rewire the device or at least break it?” asked Kirk.

            “The Ogawans were relying on their psychic attacks to control the Celians. They didn’t anticipate much need for technology,” said Spock. “It is possible it will be a simple device.”

            “I can give you some help,” said Uhura as they neared the entrance.

            “We’ll cover you,” said Kirk as he spied the Ogawans and ran out with the Celians.

            The Ogawans turned and focused their psychic abilities on the Counselors, who cried out and fell to their knees.

            “Spock, Uhura, now!” said Kirk.

            The pair ran forward to the doorway and searched along the edges until they found a thin device. Behind them, Kirk and Bones dodged blasts from the Ogawans’ phasers. Kirk punched out and stole the weapon. Bones sunk a hypo into another while Kirk fired for cover.

Spock pulled the device out, and Uhura pulled a pin from her hair. She forced it open, and Spock broke apart the right wires. The force field went down while Kirk fired for cover.

            “Go, go, go!” shouted Kirk.

            Bones, Uhura, and Spock grabbed the Counselors and helped pull them outside while Kirk continued firing the phaser. Ultimately, it stalled, but he had managed to give them a chance to escape the building.

            “Oh my god, are you guys alright?” said Merope, running out from behind the courtyard statues and various decorations people were hiding behind. “Where’s Alekto?!”

            “Yeah, yeah, we’re dandy,” groaned Bones.

            “Alekto’s with (Y/N),” said Kirk.

            “What’s going on out here?” said Coronis.

            “Where’s Alekto?” repeated Merope. “Where’s my wife?!”

            “The Ogawans took her and Alekto,” said Uhura. “But we got word from them, they’re alright. She’s alright.” Merope breathed a sigh of relief, and her shoulders sagged. “Now, what’s going on?” asked Uhura gently.

            “They keep targeting Celians,” said Merope, looking around at the Celians stuck on the lawn due to the attacks. “From up on the roof, balconies, and the windows, those assholes keep using psychic attacks. People are badly hurt, but we’re not letting anyone else from the city come up because we can’t let anyone else get hurt.”

            “Is anyone dead?” asked Helle, frightened of the answer.

            Merope shook her head. “No.”

            “Take me to them,” said Bones. “I’ll try to help.”

            “Alright,” said Merope, leading him away but not before glancing back at the Council Building worriedly. Her wife was in there…she wouldn’t rest until she knew Alekto was safe.

            Spock had the same line of thinking. (Y/N) still hadn’t reported back in. He hated not knowing if they were safe and not being there to help them.

            “Captain Kirk,” said another Celian, running up. It was Eirene, (Y/N)’s mother. “Where’s (Y/N)?”

            “They were with you when you went in,” said Nikomedes, their father. “What happened?”

            “They’re alive,” said Spock. “They escaped the Ogawans holding them with Alekto.”

            “Why aren’t they with you?” said Eirene, brow creased in worry, and her husband reached for her hand as her emotions swirled in a cloud of concern.

            “They were separated from us,” said Kirk. “But they’re alright, and they’re doing their job.”

            “You mean they’re still in there? But…,” said Nikomedes protectively.

            “Mr. (L/N), Mrs. (L/N),” said Spock, and (Y/N)’s parents turned to look at him. “(Y/N) is an officer of Starfleet—an exceptional one, at that. This is what they were meant to do. If anyone can succeed, it is them.”

l

            (Y/N) found the hatch to the roof already open. They took a deep breath and pulled themself through it. They dared a glance down and found themself high above the ground below. They could just make out the yellow, blue, and red of their friends’ uniforms.

            They made it out, thought (Y/N), smiling. Good. That was one less thing to worry about.

            Turning, they inched their way out farther onto the roof and spotted Ainoi standing at the edge and staring down at the people below. Every Celian he stared at cowered as psychic energy attacked their mind.

            (Y/N) narrowed their eyes. They wouldn’t let him and the Ogawans hurt any more people.

l

            “Is that (Y/N)?” said Uhura, eyes widening as she stared up at the building. “On the roof?”

            “It must be Ainoi,” said Spock.

            “But where’s Alekto?” said Kirk.

            Spock stiffened as (Y/N) had done just what he should have known they would. “(Y/N) subdued her so she wouldn’t be put into danger.”

            “But that means (Y/N) will be using their own mind to take down an entire army of psychics,” said Uhura in shock. “That could—” She didn’t dare finish the sentence.

            “Yes,” said Spock, staring upwards. Come on, Thy’la. Please. Come back to me. I love you, T’hy’la.

l

            (Y/N) lunged forwards to grab at Ainoi, but he turned, his telepathy stronger than the other Ogawans. He sensed their empathy reached for him and glared. (Y/N) cried out and fell to their knees as the pressure in their mind increased tenfold from what it had been last time.

            “Do you really think a simple empath can take on an entire army of telepaths?” sneered Ainoi, looking down at (Y/N). “The only reason your type of psychic even exists is to appease everyone around them.” Ainoi scoffed as (Y/N) groaned and held their head. “Just another pretty face that is trying to be powerful when they’re not. Pathetic.” He turned away to face the Celians below again. “It’s time for your type to roll over and die if you can’t do what you’re told.”

            (Y/N)’s hand reached out and grabbed his ankle. Ainoi looked down in surprise as (Y/N) glared at him, and the heat of their anger began to spread into his body. He stumbled back and fell.

            “I am not just a pretty face,” spat (Y/N), dragging themself to their feet. Ainoi scrambled away and tried to summon more psychic power, but (Y/N)’s empathy strengthened with their emotions, and they pushed back against his attempts to hurt them. “And I am powerful.” (Y/N) grabbed his face. “More powerful than your people will ever be.” Ainoi’s eyes widened as he felt the empathy begin to invade his mind. “Because emotions are powerful.” Ainoi gasped as (Y/N)’s power spread into the psychic links between him and his people. “I’ve taught a lot of power-crazed people that lesson.” (Y/N)’s eyes blazed gold. “It’s your turn.”

            (Y/N) summoned all their strength and sent their pure empathic power through Ainoi and all the psychic bonds he held within him. They find the threads connecting the Ogawans and snapped them with golden power.

            They felt each Ogawan struggle against them before collapsing. Theirs was a power the Ogawans had no way—no hope—to combat. (Y/N) refused to let up until Ainoi’s mind was alone in the universe, isolated from every other beings’ thoughts. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he went limp as (Y/N)’s power overwhelmed him.

            (Y/N) let go and stepped back. They stumbled and tried to stay standing as their vision swam. The strain of what they had just done set in. (Y/N) was exhausted—body and mind. The world spun around them, and (Y/N) couldn’t tell if they were falling unconscious or their body was just giving up on them.

            (Y/N) grabbed the slope of the room to hold themself steady and opened their communicator. “Spock,” they croaked. “Spock.”

            Instantly, Spock’s voice came over the channel. “(Y/N), you did it. The Ogawans are subdued; the Celians are alright. You can come down, now.”

            “Oh…good,” breathed (Y/N), the exhaustive effort they were putting into remaining awake clear. Everything ached, and they just wanted to let go.

            “(Y/N)?” said Spock, hearing the dangerous amount of tiredness and pain in their tone.

            “Spock, can you tell my mom and dad I love them?” said (Y/N), blinking as their vision darkened at the edges.

        ��   “You can tell them yourself as soon as you come down,” said Spock, his heart clenching as he realized what (Y/N) was doing. They were speaking as if these were their last words.

            “Sure…” murmured (Y/N), groaning as their head ached agonizingly. “Hey, Spock, I want you to know…I want to be with your forever…if you’d have me. I love you, Spock.” They collapsed, and their communicator fell from their hand.

            “T’hy’la?” said Spock, staring up at the roof where (Y/N) lay in their gold dress, unmoving. “T’hy’la, stay awake. You have to stay awake…because I love you, too.”

            (Y/N) smiled as their consciousness left them. If those were the last words they heard, they’d be content.

Taglist:

@a-ofzest

@grippleback-galaxy

@genderfluid-anime-goth

@groovy-lady

@im-making-an-effort

@unending-screaming

@h-l-vlovesvintage

@neenieweenie

@keylimeconstellation

@wormwig

@technikerin23

@ilyatan

@nthdarkqueen

[chicaotaku-fanfics]

There's Three of You?! Pt. 18

Now, finally, FINALLY, part 3/3 of the arc... which ended up being longer than I ever thought, so, my bad on that front. Stillo, hope you enjoy.

Also, yes, this pic if from the actual YouTube promo pic of the trial scene.

Warnings: foul language, might be some medical inconsistencies .

CHAPTER 18

I was standing outside the courtroom, trying to comprehend what had just happened when a pair of arms wrapped themselves around my waist and a voice whispered in my ear.

“So dear wife, what should we do about this seemingly huge problem of people assuming we’re married?” Jay asked me, I leaned on him.

“No idea. I mean, we do share our mom’s face shape, but your hair color and mine are two tones apart. Not to mention you have green eyes and mine are brown.” I paused for a second, we heard footsteps approaching us, we turned as one and we were face to face with Erin, Dr. Charles, Al, Ruzek and Atwater.

“Do we really look so different that people can confuse us with a married couple instead of seeing we’re siblings?” we asked at the same time.

“When you do that, you’re clearly siblings.” said Erin.

“Hell, even your expression’s the same.” Ruzek added.

“But then you act like that…” started Atwater, pointing to how Jay was hugging me from behind. “and I can see why people think you’re married.” he added.

“I honestly thought you were a couple the first time we met Lilly.” said Al, I blushed and then groaned, at the same time Jay groaned too.

“Anyway, where’s Voight?” asked Jay, going into business mode again.

“He’s speaking with Dana about taking the stand.” said Al, we nodded, just then we heard a phone ding, one of us had a text message, we all checked, it was mine. I raise my phone to indicate it was me who got a text.

From: Big Red ❤️

Why did I have to hear from the hospital’s rumor mill that you’re at court today?

To: Big Red ❤️

To be honest, no one should’ve known

But when you have someone like Doris in the ED… news fly

From: Big Red ❤️

Fair point.

Still… what are you doing there?

Is this because of Jay’s call the other day?

To: Big Red ❤️

It is.

I’ll explain as soon as I can.

From: Big Red ❤️

Very well. Take care, please.

To: Big Red ❤️

I will.

Love you Will

❤️

From: Big Red ❤️

Love you too LilyBloom 

❤️

To: Big Red ❤️ ❤️

“Excuse us.” we heard, making us all turn to see who wanted our attention. To our surprise, some of the former patients of this… monster approached us, and I listened to each and everyone of them. I extended my business card, the hospital one, to all of them.

“I know it’s not much, and you all may not even trust doctors at this point. But if it’s worth something, here’s my card. You call me and I’ll make sure you are referred to the best oncologists Chicago Med has to offer.” I said, extending the card to the sixth woman of the group standing before me.

“Not only that, on my part, I can offer free therapy sessions with the best psychiatrists and psychologists Med has to offer.” Dr. Charles said, extending his business card. They all took the cards.

“Thank you. It’s nice to see that not all doctors see us as a way to cash a paycheck.” said one of them, I nodded.

“«If it is given me to save a life, all thanks. But it may also be within my power to take a life; this awesome responsibility must be faced with great humbleness and awareness of my own frailty. Above all, I must not play at God.»” I recited the exact part of the Hippocratic Oath that always resonated with me, since even before entering med school; to always stay humble and understand I’m not God to save everyone.

Everyone looked at me, the Intelligence Unit were all shocked, Jay looked at me with pride in his eyes, Dr. Charles looked satisfied and proud, the women smiled, I smiled at them. One of them walked to me and took my hands in hers.

“Thank you, Dr. Halstead… for giving us back hope that’ll we get better.” said the woman, I squeezed her hands.

“You have nothing to thank me for.” I said, the smile still on my face. Then, the woman pulled me into a hug. I was surprised for a second, but hugged her back.

Not long after we were all called back inside, I guided the woman I was hugging, and the rest followed her lead. We all let them go in first, then we entered and it was then that Voight was called to the stand.

“All three victims were in contact with each other, comparing notes. We know this from their phone records.” Voight started to explain  “After their December 10th meeting with Dr. Reybold, they agreed to an experimental treatment which, in actuality, was simply twice the usual dose of chemo.” he continued. “The following week, he upped it to three times the amount. By the time they wound up in the hospital, it was at seven times.” he added.

“Because they confronted him about what he did, and he was afraid of being exposed.” Dana said, I wanted to facepalm myself, but couldn’t.

Don’t say it like that or they’ll say you’re…

“Objection. Counsel is testifying.” said Reybold’s lawyer.

“Sustained.” said the judge.

“In your investigation, did you find it suspicious three patients met with the doctor one day…”

“Objection. No one knows what transpired in this meeting.” that woman interrupted, again.

“That's because everyone in that meeting besides Dr. Reybold is dead or in a coma.” said Dana, looking at the jury.

“You Honor.” said the dirty blonde woman.

“One more time, and you're in contempt.” said the judge, I started to worry.

“Could the amounts the patients received have been lab mistakes?” asked Dana.

“No, Dr. Reybold's signature was on every order.” Voight answered.

“Well, what about a dosing error?” she asked this time.

“His staffer testified that Dr. Reybold personally administered those doses.”

“But the staffer cut a deal.” said Dana.

“That doesn't mean it wasn't the truth.” said Voight, I bit the inside of my cheek not to laugh.

“Objection. Improper opinion.” said Dr. Reybold’s lawyer.

“Sustained.” said the judge.

“What about any other witnesses who…” Dana started but was, again, interrupted.

“Asked and answered.” said the doctor’s attorney.

It’s starting to get really hard not to slap her.

“Yes, Ms. Shelby, move on.” said the judge, I believe two seconds away from slapping Dana.

“Your Honor, someone has to speak for these victims.” she said.

“You don't speak. You ask questions. And if nobody else saw the doctor dosing…” said the judge, before he was interrupted by Voight.

“Someone else did.” he said, making everyone turn to him. “Me. I saw Dr. Reybold dose a patient. My wife. I saw Dr. Reybold dose my wife Camille who died of cancer under Dr. reybold's care six years ago.” said Voight, leaving me speechless.

I turned to see Jay asking if he knew about it with my eyes, his expression told me it was a first for him too.

“Sergeant Voight…” started Dana

“I'm a witness. I saw him dose a patient.” he said.

“The state has no further questions for this witness.” she said, going back to her seat.

“Well, I have a few.” said Dr. Reybold’s attorney.

Oh no… Lord help us all.

“Losing your wife to cancer must have been very painful, sergeant.” she made a pause. “Can you talk about your wife's illness?” she asked.

“Camille was referred to Dr. Reybold when her ovarian cancer returned. He recommended an aggressive course and then a second round when that didn't get it all.” Voight started to speak. I was in absolute shock, and by Jay’s expression, I could tell he was in the same state I was. “She was cold all the time… Couldn't keep food down. Memory went in and out. She… She was depressed. She fought as hard as she could, but…” he continued, but had to pause.

“She sounds brave.” the woman said.

“She was.” he added.

“You're still in mourning over your wife's death.” said the lawyer, taking a step forward. “Isn't that what this is about?” she asked, my jaw almost hit the ground.

The AUDACITY?! Have some respect, lady!

“No.” Voight said firmly.

“How gratifying would it be to help convict Dr. Reybold?” she asked.

“It would be very gratifying.” said Voight.

“No further questions.” she said, sounding smug as if she had won, while going back to her seat.

“For all his victims.” Voight added, making the woman turn to him again.

“I said no further questions. You answered exactly as I expected you to.” she said, as if explaining her reasoning would make a difference.

“Redirect? What other victims are you referring to, Sergeant Voight?” asked Dana, and I could finally see the pieces falling into place.

“Objection.” said the dirty blonde lawyer.

“Ms. Green questioned my witness about one prior patient, Camille voight. Now she opened the door to the other 42 patients he treated.” explained Dana.

Oh… so that’s her name.

“She's right. Overruled.” said the judge

“What other victims?” Dana asked again.

“Helen Graham… Nia Felten… Priya Parvati… Anne Gamerman… And 38 other people this doctor diagnosed with cancer they didn't have and treated with chemo they didn't need.” Voight said, listing four women literally making me want to strangle Reybold.

“And how do you know this to be true?” asked Dana.

“Because he said so himself in court under oath.” Voight answered with zero hesitation.

“Objection!” exclaimed Ms. Green.

Not so confident now, huh?

“Overruled. Continue.” said the judge.

“Dr. Reybold confessed to personally poisoning 42 patients, ruining their lives, terrifying them and their families, and he did it all for a payout, and he admitted to all of this as part of a deal he made with the state of Illinois, copping to fraud." Voight pretty much accused Reybold, looking directly at the jury.

As he did that, Dana walked to her seat and grabbed a stack of papers.

“This deal, Sergeant Voight?” she asked, as she made her way to Voight, only to show him the deal.

”That's the one.” he said.

“The state would like to enter into evidence case number 111 496 and amend its witness list by 42 people.” Dana said, as she went and handed a copy of the deal and updated list to the judge, and then going towards the side where Reybold and his team are seated to practically slam that same document in Ms. Green’s seat.

Oh my God… it looks like we’ll actually win this thing.

We were allowed a break while the jury deliberated the verdict, and I could only hope for the best. Just then, Ruzek walked over to me, standing at my side.

“Hey.” he said, hands in his pockets.

“Hey Ruz.” I said, a coffee cup in my hand.

“What you did was really brave. Helping us by going undercovered, and now testifying against this… monster.” he said, I turned to look at him.

“I’m a firm believer that, if you see someone doing the wrong thing and you don’t speak up, then you’re just as guilty. This man caused three women to land in the hospital, the exact same day, two of them dying because of an overdose… that’s a very long shot away from the « First do no harm » part of the Hippocratic Oath.” I said, he turned to look at me, I turned to look at him.

“Still, I just wanted to say, great job. And thank you.” he said, placing his hand on my shoulder. I nodded and smiled at him.

Al was the one to come get us for the hearing of the verdict.

“On the count of narcotic induced homicide of Danielle Frank…” asked the judge.

“We find the defendant guilty.” said the jury.

I let out a sigh of immense relief, Jay mirroring it, and reached out to hold his hand. He grabs on to me without hesitation, I turn to him, and he turns to me. Our eyes say it all.

We got him.

“On the count of narcotic induced attempted homicide of Carol Shepperd…” the man asked again, this time with another woman’s name.

“We find the defendant guilty.” said the jury again.

“On the count of narcotic induced attempted homicide of Leah Kamen…” asked the judge, again with a different name.

And that was the last one.

“We find the defendant guilty.” said the jury a third time.

I nodded my head once, glad that we got justice for all these women.

“Defendant is remanded into custody until such time as a sentencing hearing is scheduled.” he slammed his gavel down, finally putting an end to this torture,  “Bailiff.” he added, calling on to the court officer.

“Hank, your wife did not suffer needlessly. You have to believe me. The cancer did come back. I never harmed Camille. These patients, I was their only hope. They got years because of me. You can't put someone away for saving lives.” Dr. Reybold started saying, desperation clear in his voice and expression, even more so apparent when the officer put the cuffs on him to take him away. “You can't!” he practically growled at Voight. “I wasn't harming them. I was helping them. Helping!” he exclaimed, even as he was led away from the room.

I stood up as soon as Jay did, looking down at my blazer to fix it.

We all walked out the courtroom, Jay behind me, and I said goodbye to all the victims of the man we just got sent away. As we continue to walk out of the courthouse as a group, I suddenly feel Jay’s presence fade, and eventually, only Dr. Charles and I are walking out of the place, only to be surrounded by news reporters.

That little shit… of course, Voight’s number 2 rule: never show your face to the media.

It takes about 20 min to finally manage to escape the reporters, because yes, even if we tried stopping them from asking us questions, they know which buttons to push to get answers, like the last question they asked me.

“Dr Halstead do you think those women are at fault here?” asked one of the reporters.

“Excuse me?” I asked back.

The fuck he just insinuated?

“Yeah, I mean, they trusted Dr. Reybold for their treatment. Shouldn’t that make them responsible for how their life’s turned out for the worse?” asked the man. I took a deep breath.

“First of all, that was rude as hell, and I will not tolerate any disrespect towards the victims of Dr. Reybold’s horrible schemes.” That sentence alone seemed to make all the idiots shut up. “Second of all, have some empathy, imagine if one of them was your wife, or your mother, your aunt, your daughter, would you dare ask such a morbid question?” half of them had the decency to look ashamed of themselves. “And third of all, they were deceived by a psychopathic doctor who has a God complex and absolutely no remorse for his actions, even going as far as still claiming he was helping these women as he was escorted out of the courtroom.” I made a pause, looking to my right when I noticed movement, it was the women. I turned back to the crowd. “As a doctor, I took an oath to do no harm, and what Dr. Reybold did is an insult to that oath. So no, these women are not responsible for what that monster did to them. And if you believe that for so much as a second, then I recommend you reevaluate your life choices so far… because somewhere along the way you chose to become a self-centered asshole who only looks after himself.” I said, turning to leave, then I turned again to see them all. “Sorry for the crude language.” I said with the fakest sweet smile I could muster and then just walked away.

We all made it to Molly’s for a drink, as soon as we entered Herrmann called the attention of everyone there.

“The heroes have arrived! Please give a round of applause to the elite team who got a psycho out of the streets!” he exclaimed, everyone started cheering, I then noticed that not only were the members of 51 present, but also Will, Connor, Sarah, Ethan, April, Ms. Goodwin, Maggie and Natalie were here too. “And please, an even bigger round of applause for Dr. Lillian Mariane Halstead, who humbled a bunch of reporters on national TV!” Herrmann added, unmuting the TV just as the reporters appeared back on the screen, there were two women -Camille Robinson and Dianne Johnson- and a man -Bill Klint-, watching the end of my outburst, waiting to give their opinion.

“That was Dr. Lillian Halstead, giving a statement earlier this afternoon after the trial against Dr. Dean Reybold, and she couldn’t be more right. What happened to the victims of this unfortunate case is nothing short of a horror movie, but thanks to the Intelligence Unit from CPD’s District 21, Dr. Daniel Charles -head of psychiatry at Gaffney Chicago Medical Center-, and Dr. Lillian Marianne Halstead -a junior resident emergency medicine physician at Gaffney Chicago Medical Center-, these women can finally put this nightmare behind them. Our condolences go to them and their families.” said Bill, then Dianne turned to him.

“Absolutely Bill, but not only is Dr. Halstead right, she proved that there are still doctors who see their patients as human beings and not another paycheck, which personally, gives me back hope in the people working in the medical system.” she said.

“And not only that, we also got footage from inside the courthouse, where Dr. Halstead can be seen comforting the victims and reciting, by heart, part of the Hippocratic Oath.” said Camillethis time.

“No way! By heart? Really?” asked Bill.

“Really, let’s check it.” said Camille. The image on the screen changed, I could immediately tell that the person recorded this from the corner of the hall where our courtroom was.

“«If it is given me to save a life, all thanks. But it may also be within my power to take a life; this awesome responsibility must be faced with great humbleness and awareness of my own frailty. Above all, I must not play at God.»” and indeed there was I, reciting my oath for the victims to see that not all doctors are a lost cause. The scene ended with the woman hugging me, and me hugging her back.

“Woooow!” exclaimed Bill, seconded by Dianne.

“Well, that was just beautiful.” said Dianne.

“Not to mention inspiring.” Bill chimed in.

“I know right! Guess we now know that Gaffney’s the place to go in case of emergencies.” Dianne spoke again.

“Definitely, I can honestly say that if I want anyone treating me in case of an emergency is, hands down, Dr. Lillian Halstead.” said Camille.

“I second that!” exclaimed Dianne.

“Me third!” Bill exclaimed. “It’s nice to know that there are still doctors out there that are not all ego.” he added, then he turned to the camera. “Dr. Halstead, if you’re watching this, thank you for being an example of what a good doctor should be like.” he said, starting to clap, Dianne and Camille joined him.

“Indeed.” said Dianne.

“Maybe you won’t be able to hear this, but everyone at the studio is giving you a big round of applause Dr. Halstead. Thank you for helping the people of this city regain their trust in medical professionals back.” said Camille, and with that Herrmann muted the TV again, I was as red as a tomato.

“Come on doc, give a little speech.” he said, I declined, not really feeling like I did a big thing, but everyone started chanting, so I calmed everyone.

“Okay, okay. Uhm… I honestly don’t know what to say. I just… I saw these three women arriving in the ED, two sadly passed, still having their whole lives ahead of them, and a greedy doctor cut those lives short. I wasn’t gonna stand there doing nothing when someone was breaking the most important part of THE oath every doctor takes before practicing… we could say that I just acted. And I’ll continue to do so, for the benefit of my patients, and the city.” I said, everyone cheered again, Jay hugged me from the side, Will stood up and walked over to us to hug me too.

  Well one of the reporters was right. Finally, the nightmare is over.

FINALLY! The arc is over, and with Lilly appearing on the news, she'll be benched from UC work for a while, meaning, she'll focus on her doctor work! Yey!

[incorrectmahabharatquotes]

I know the history of the word Hindu. I was simply using it to give you clarity.

You've made your perspective clear. Deflection and whataboutism are your weapons.

You are so quick to play your dalit card everywhere, but you forget that dalits were among the persecuted Hindus too. I never denied that the caste system is evil and needs to be gone completely. Why bring it up in a conversation where it wasn't even an issue?

You're so far into your leftie liberal mode that you don't even realise that you're here because of the efforts of fellow Hindus' efforts to abolish the caste system and bring in reservations to compensate for the oppression. It's still a work in progress but there's definitely progress.

Moreover, had this nation been running on the same values as Islamic rulers of the past who broke our temples, you'd be killed just for being a queer or being a Hindu who didn't convert.

Just look at the minorities in other Islamic countries.

But you won't, I know. Because hating fellow Hindus and denying history is more important for you. It's the cool thing to do these days.

One day you'll learn, hopefully soon. I wish you luck. 🙏

How dare you say Babasaheb Ambedkar was a Hindu when he died a Buddhist and swore to not die a Hindu. How dare you insist that the real people who worked towards societal change for women, Dalit and Adivasi people, like Jyotiba Phule and Savitribai Phule, did so at 0 cost of their 'Hindu' society. Savitribai Phule did not have shit flung at her every day by brahmins for you to say 'Hindu' as though they weren't the ones who opposed her attempt to educate girls.

How dare you, lastly, insist that Dalits are ALSO Hindu, as though they haven't been dehumanised and humiliated for centuries on end and prevented from entering temples out of 'Impurity'.

In all our arguments, I find it INCREDIBLY funny that you seem to always focus on Muslim invaders, but never at all focus on the kind of bullshit the British wrecked on us. I'll tell you why: its because the British were the ones to club ALLLLLLL these varied identities together under a wishy washy 'Hindu' label in censuses. Dalit people are also under this label BECAUSE OF CLERICAL LAZINESS.

And this shit worked PERFECTLY for Hindu Nationalists. The more uniform our 'identity' got, the better. But of course, caste was essential to the functioning of 'Hindu' society.

So I give you this chance to inform me: What kind of society acts like this? Why are Dalit children beaten in schools for touching the wrong water pot? And forgive me for assuming, but if you have a household help who comes by, why do you treat her in a way which is 'different' to your family? Why is your circle of friends the same 3 people from the same community? Why do we live in this kind of society? What morality are we functioning on? Tell me, without resorting to justifying henious acts by saying 'Dharma'. I dare you.

-Mod G

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

Hello again, Anon-Who-Has-Unfollowed-But-Is-Still-Here-Inexplicably,

Mod G actually replied to you before I did. You didn't say about their reply. That's fascinating. They answered your ask in a far more direct way so I thought adding the same thing would be redundant. Turns out, it wouldn't have been redundant because you didn't even read what they said. Who knew.

You know what? I actually did say what the conquerors did was wrong. I directly talked about it. That's not what-aboutery. Did you not even read that part? I said what they did was wrong and what you're doing is wrong too. (I'm saying it again because you seem to be under the impression that I'm not holding these historical figures responsible for their actions sufficiently enough for your taste.)

I talked about being dalit in terms of reclamation and reparation. It is directly related to the topic you were talking about. Sure, free to tell me that I should be grateful to my "fellow Hindus" and should express that gratefulness by shutting my mouth and not criticizing them when they're doing something wrong. Got it. All that work-in-progress you talk about but I should still know my place and not speak over savarna Hindus. Understood.

Newsflash, the said beloved Hindus will ALSO gladly kill me for being a queer, as you put it. Right now, in fact. We're not exactly a queer-friendly nation, if you haven't noticed.

You also seem to be under the impression that Hindus=Hindutva which is just a wrong assumption on your part. In fact, from all the replies we're getting it seems to me that the other Hindus disagree with your hindutva politics. What do you make of that?

But yes, I'm a filthy leftie liberal blah-blah. I'm hating Hindus because I said something they're doing is wrong. But all you do is keep talking about Muslims and Islamic countries and don't even wonder why.

-Mod S

[innytoes]

Chaotic Prompts II: Electric Boogaloo

It fucken wimdy

What do you mean, the raccoon stole the ring you planned to propose with?

I am straight up not having a good time right now

Come here you little gremlin

I am being so normal about this

Should I even ask or should I just assume the answer to your current predicament is 'I'm stupid'?

Excuse me, I'm not done saying hi to your dog yet

When I said 'be gay do crime' I did not mean this

Stop flirting with yourself in the mirror

It's a trash can, not a trash can't

Okay but serious question: What's your favourite dinosaur?

Get down from there

Oh, you're being gay. Good job, carry on

My tummy hurts but I'm being so brave about it

Yeet!

I got you Oreos as a peace offering

I came out to have a good time and I'm honestly feeling so attacked right now

I am a pretty, pretty princess, thank you for noticing

Oh no you activated their Mom Friend Mode

So basically your roommate is a cat?

Okay so I can explain

Why is your arm stuck in the vending machine?

Let's go, lesbians!

I can't believe our first date ended up in the emergency room

Hi Hungry, I'm dad

You bought him a cake that said 'nice ass, bro'

How am I supposed to Kiss Kiss, Fall In Love in these conditions?

You know, because of colour theory

If I were an alien I'd abduct you first

You could if you weren't a fucking coward

No thoughts, head empty

Please don't ever refer to yourself as that again

I feel like you're not taking this powerpoint presentation about why you should date me very seriously.

I'm just a silly little guy

The last thing you ate is what we have to name him... um, okay maybe not that.

I am a grown-ass adult and if I want to spend my hard-earned money on this I will!

Weird flex but okay

Fire solves all problems

What would your rather find living in your attic? 1000 roaches or one person?

I'm too pretty to be dealing with this

The house is burning, and you can save the cake, or me, what do you choose? / That's not fair, the cake doesn't have legs.

Have you no shame?

You are the yee to my haw

In my defence the five year old started it

So hear me out... we kidnap him...

I'm sorry I can't keep making out if your cat keeps staring at us like that

Kissing the homies goodnight

I'd beat up Satan for you

Eff this, I should be at the club

Eff this, I should be at Build-a-Bear

How are you going to gaslight gatekeep girlboss your way out of this?

You may not believe in mothman, but mothman believes in you

I am so totally chill right now

At the next inconvenience I will start biting people

They smell like sparkles and sunshine and I want to kiss their stupid face so bad

I'm sorry you broke your arm how?

We take stuffed animals very seriously in this house

Yeah that sounds like a you problem

Do you need a hug? You just seem very upset over the shape of these potatoes

Mistakes were made

I'm not like other girls. I'm worse.

They cut your grilled cheese into triangles, that means they're in love with you, bro

Is this a mid-life crisis because if it is I'm a bit worried about your lifespan.

Just because you can buy a box of five hundred tiny plastic meerkats does not mean you should.

Aww, it's baby's first war crime.

I don't think pancakes are going to fix this. I think I need ice cream too.

(For more chaotic prompts, part one is here.)

[decepti-thots]

Oh my god please discuss the sliding scale of personhood autobot vs decepticon in the Bay movies it sounds genuinely fascinating

Okay. So. Full disclaimer, it's been a while since I sat down and dedicatedly rewatched Bayverse- I keep meaning to and then getting confronted with the slap in the face that is actually having to do it, so. This is by necessity going to talk only in broad strokes, plus you should take it with a pinch of salt or ten since my memory is a crapshoot tbh. But hey ho!

The Decepticons are interesting because they move quite freely, depending on the character, film and even moment, between a wider range of 'is this a person?' compared to the Autobots. The Autobots have two main modes: people that are mostly comparable to humans (however flat and uncared for by the narrative) and beloved, domesticated animal (again: the boy and his car-dog thing, this is mostly just Bee's role).

The Decepticons might include depictions of them as, in any given film: a person who is thoroughly Othered from human people in some capacity, a monster, also some kind of domesticated pet or creature (spoiler: that's Wheelie), or something pretending to be a person. Let's go over some of why that is, and how Bayverse creates such a stark contrast between the two factions as compared to something like G1.

The designs are the most obvious thing to point to here. People often deride Bayverse's designs as universally incomprehensible, but this elides the fact that the Decepticon designs are very clearly intended to be more incomprehensible visually. They are often more alien, less humanoid or humanlike, and less conventionally appealing than the Autobots. Indeed, I've said before that I tend to prefer the Decepticon designs in Bayverse because they lean much further into the aesthetic of noise and weirdness, and this makes it feel more like a choice; but that's not a neutral coincidence! They are designed in ways that adhere to common wisdom about what makes a character design 'appealing' or 'unappealing', what is used to present characters as 'relatable' or 'not relatable' inhuman characters to an audience of humans with certain assumed biases.

Compare 2007 Optimus and Bee to Megatron and Starscream, for example:

Broadly speaking, OP and Bee, even with all the over-engineered noise of their designs, have clear, recognisable faces that draw your attention to the eyes. Optimus' design sits as the most humanlike, with Bee's divergence from standard human faces primarily drawing attention to his muteness (which we discussed previously) with the 'gag' where his mouth might be.

Starscream, meanwhile, is more obviously inhuman by a wide margin. He has a bird face- he is explicitly animalistic! Why doesn't Starscream mirror his G1 design even a little when OP and Bee do? Partly it's because one goal of the design choices here are to make the Decepticons seem monstrous in a way which more clearly delineates the two sides than the G1 designs do. Megatron is not nearly so specific in what he evokes, but looking at him side by side with the Autobot designs, you can see how it carries over. He is broadly humanoid but lacks a lot of the definition that gives Bee and OP a more humanlike apperance, in part due to how his being monochrome makes him seem less clearly in possession of a humanlike anatomy (Bee has pecs!), plus his eyes are small and set far apart in a way that evokes certain types of animal skull. And like. He's got "horns", haha. THAT TOO. Not subtle.

But Megatron and Starscream are both shown to be intelligent, of course. They speak, they communicate, they are not shown as beasts even as their designs evoke a more monstrous affect to distance them from our human baseline. They possess some degree of personhood in how they are presented (it makes for better central villains!). But it's a personhood a few steps further removed from human personhood than, say, Optimus'. The Decepticons have (scary, inhuman) people among them- but they are not exclusively, or even mostly, made up of people the way the Autobots tend to be presented.

Moving along the line. Another Decepticon is Wheelie, who is shown in a similar way to how Bumblebee is- like a kind of super-pet, the fantasy of having a cool robot who's smart enough to communicate with you but who is still, well, your pet. His design is obviously very far from humanlike, though as he's intended to be endearing (theoretically) rather than menacing, his design more like a harmless spindly bug than a 'monster'. Bigger eyes in a deeply inhuman face: that's not a person, that's a pet that can talk to you, the movie says! Imagine, a dog that humps your leg and makes really awful sex jokes. What a dream.

He arguably follows on from a template that Frenzy established the movie before, where Frenzy was presented like his undomesticated equivalent in this uncomfortable analogy. Their designs evoke similarly inhuman vibes, where the influence is insectoid and therefore unpleasant but not super menacing. Compare the slapstick way violence against Frenzy is framed versus how even unsympathetic characters like Starscream tend to be shown in fights- it's implicitly just not violence being done against a person as opposed to like... a cockroach that learned to talk. Again: he's visually further than any Autobot from human by a significant degree, and he exists on a different narrative level than Decepticons like Megatron. In universe, no difference; but to the audience there sure is.

Then we have the ones that are just... monsters of a very beastly variety. I'd argue Barricade in the 2007 movie fits this despite ostensibly talking and showing humanlike intelligence; he speaks very differently to like, Megatron, for example, all brusque repetition that doesn't evoke someone who's done more than memorize the question, and throughout his big 2007 setpiece he's then basically treated like a predatory animal; largely silent beyond his couple memetic lines, seeming too intelligent for his form at times when we see him in alt (his alt mode being so prominent in creating paranoia really mirrors the idea of an animal stalking its prey IMO, and how scared we are when animals seem to display uncanny-to-us intelligence and thought). Barricade is not a person to be fought, he's a hunting dog let loose, the framing suggests, and the goal is to put him down before he tears out your throat. He's a good example, I think, of a single character moving between modes within a single film. He has a brief moment of personhood (for gag purposes) but easily reverts to that predator-animal template. Decepticons can be wild animals too, then.

Even further along that axis is something like Revenge of the Fallen's Devastator. That's just a big scary monster, y'all! Look at it! RotF as a film is not interested at all in the implications that this is a combiner, let's be real, so we will also put that to one side and not come up with some bullshit about how 'maybe it's because he's a combiner', like let's be real guys, RotF isn't bothering with that thematic stuff. It's RotF, that movie is so goddamn dumb. Anyway. So this:

This is a monster, not a person; that face is a maw, not a face. Proportions are all weird and truly animal-like too. A speechless, destructive monster who exists less as a person to fight and more a natural disaster to resist; and another type of Decepticon that will not find an Autobot counterpart, because Autobots are people bar a couple domesticated exceptions, but Decepticons go all over the conceptual map, with this as an extreme!

And the whole idea that a Decepticon that is not a person might be mistaken for one is of course then used for horror at one point. When we see Alice the pretender, the fear comes from how convincingly she apes being what she is not: a human yes, but also a thinking, feeling person of any description. Her true form is partly creepy for having a bunch of unnecessarily humanlike features warped into something grotesque, and does not speak after she's revealed I think. My point is that the scary part of Alice is that idea of mimicry that can't be detected, and oh boy oh boy is there some fucking subtext to that scene we could read into it. By the way. Remember how there's an implicit dick joke and oh god RotF is a godawful film I hate it so much. I know you all know this, but I do. ANYWAY. I think she'll round out our trip down the 'scale' for now.

The above is in no way comprehensive (and leans real heavily on the first two films- there's actually potentially some interesting stuff about how Megatron, specifically, changes in how he is framed going on, and arguably becomes at one point the only truly personified Decepticon character). I haven't even found a place to get into how yes, the reproductive cycle stuff theoretically applies to all Cybertronians but is only ever shown when the Decepticons are doing it, and is notoriously weirdly animalistic and visceral; they have like, egg sacs, they have a very organic but very inhuman and upsetting life cycle thing going on with their babies and all. This is extremely scattershot! And missing stuff and possibly at points a bit off base because again, I'm running off my memory here. But I hope it shows a bit of how and why the spectrum of 'person or not' is a much broader question for bayverse Decepticons than Autobots, and how it often skews further to the 'not' side by a wide margin.

And it's also very all over the place in terms of the resulting implications. Some of it has its roots in very charged stuff; some of it could be read a multitude of ways! Where the Bee post is more clearly a matter of 'here is how casual ableist assumptions play out in Hollywood blockbusters without thinking', this is a wild combo of everything from 'here's how they reverse engineered transmisogyny' to 'here's why cannon fodder in dumb action flicks is designed like this so often'... but there, assumptions about 'appealing character design' are not politically neutral. (Take the old 'bigger eyes are always the more appealing option!' thing, that's a culturally specific assumption that has all sorts of follow on discussions about orientalism, for example.) The whole thing tends back towards something reactionary at basically every turn, though the 'what' might vary.

But ultimately I think the takeaway is: the bayverse films set you against the Decepticons not through obvious ideology- I doubt anyone got a coherent idea of their aims or anything out of the movies- but by sliding the scale down to 'not human' in many ways and letting our brains fill in the rest.

[pttucker]

[I've become the retired SSSSS-grade Son Wukong!!] Haven't I seen that many 'S' letters somewhere before? Even though I knew I was being taken for a ride here, I still tapped on the info tab of this chamber. And that's when I saw its introduction. – Introduction: Only I know the end of the Journey to the West.

Wow, what a totally not at all familiar title and plot.

Oh man, but them saying that they had someone they wanted to play Sun Wukong but he got delayed. 😭

And then the loooong pause after Dokja gives Sooyoung his new Modifier.

Am I reading too much into this or did they totally set this story up in the hopes that Dokja would fill the role that's so obviously his? Is Sooyoung surprised that it's not Dokja? Did her Predictive Plagiarism tell her this was the best way to find him and she's wondering what went wrong? Is the pause because she's upset and trying to decide if they should just go without him?

Or does she know it's Dokja and is wondering if he's lying or if he got a new modifier or is she deciding if she should call him out or just go along with it or...?

Ugh, both her knowing and her not knowing make sense.

It soooo seems like they have to know, though. I mean my goodness if this isn't straight up yelling directly in Dokja's face idk what is:

(This small stone monkey had a nasty habit of sacrificing himself to save other people, and many of those who received his unwanted rescue attempts ended up with psychological scars.) (Gods and Buddhas of the heavens all criticised him for it, yet that dumb rock-for-brains continued to throw his life away to save other people over and over again.) N-no, hang on a minute here. (The heaven's Great Jade Emperor and Buddha felt that they could no longer accept such actions from Sun Wukong anymore and imprisoned the Monkey King inside the stone crate under the Marble Mountain.) (And our story starts from there.)

...especially after Jihye literally said that they should bury him in a coffin and leave him there until the scenarios are over. They may not be able to do it in real life but at least they can play pretend!

But despite those harsh words they're so gentle and caring with him? 😭 Literally Dokja's job is to do nothing but rest and relax and let his companions handle things (for once).

I stepped forward and spoke up. "Both of you, please hide somewhere. I shall handle this." If my memory was working fine, then one of the players took on the role of the 'Tang Sanzang's White Dragon Horse'. I was pretty sure that he was the one behind the current event. Seeing that the kids were participating in this Story chamber, the rest of the players should also be from , but if someone with ill intention had somehow butted in here… "…We told you, you just stay on the bus."

Oh man, look at Dokja immediately going right back into protector mode and even assuming that maybe someone had infiltrated the story. And the sass they give him in return! Saying he can't even afford proper clothes for himself but wants to save them? And Yoosung's scary little smile?

THEY HAVE TO KNOW RIGHT?

Is this their way of showing him that they can handle themselves so please trust them to do so? Maybe some kind of angry "stop treating us like children, we are going to be the ones to save you"? An even angrier "how dare you save us when you can't even take proper care of yourself"?

And maybe also their way of letting him just rest finally? After all, how is Dokja to deny them taking care of him when it's literally the plot of the story they're enacting?

Also there's this weird little exchange:

– This way, he'll trust us more, you dummy. What will you do if he decides to wreak havoc later? I felt goosebumps break out on my skin. – …You're actually scared of him? Look at his current state, will ya?

Why would they assume some random stranger is going to wreck havoc??? In fact, who is the one person they know who regularly wrecks havoc for everyone around him? Also, the whole "look at his current state." Dokja assumes they're just talking about his shabby clothes or something but they're definitely talking about how weak he is right now, right? Like, I don't think Dokja was able to fully recover back at Secretive Plotter's place because last we saw he was only like 38% healed. (Yet another reason for his party to pamper him right now.)

Gilyoung and Yoosung are definitely saying "we can totally take Dokja right now he's so weak, if he starts to act up we'll shove him a box somewhere before he causes his usual mess," right???

Ughhh but everything also makes sense if they don't know.

Sooyoung would know that such a story would (and does) appeal to the Great Sage because he also wants to just have a nice relaxing time where he doesn't have to save anybody and is pampered by this companions. And of course a story mirroring the Demon King of Salvation's story in any way is going to draw attention, both from the Great Sage and the general public, as we literally just saw with both the Earth news and the news here. (And Sangah! Sangah is back!!!!!!!!! We actually get to see her again!!!!! And this is the story she's drawn to!!!!) And Dokja himself points out that by doing all of the work of the story, they'll ensure that Kim Dokja's Company gets all the story shares.

...Actually, you know what, just the fact that those are all Dokja's observations and reasonings makes me 100% believe they absolutely know it's him because Dokja always, always, always does exactly this every single time people try to help him or show that they care for him. He always assumes they have some ulterior motive and that they're doing it for their own gain. He never thinks that people are there for him. He is the most unreliable narrator ever when it comes to his own story.

If Dokja believes they're doing it for themselves then they have to actually be doing it for him.

They MUST know.