#improving care for psychotics

[healingwgabs]

“Talk to a therapist” “go to the psych ward” are ableist statements and r not supportive to the psychotic communities who experience delusions of persecution and extreme paranoia who wont trust their therapist or the psych ward staff?? and are likely to get traumatized if they go to therapy or the psych ward in a state like that

Seen posts on here that recommend that psychotics (Doesn’t specify what kind) speak to therapists? And from personal experience I don’t agree (depends on what kind) and think it can be harmful. I was lucky enough to be given a few free sessions-my mom had something set up (like 3-the country I live in offers that to some ppl 🇨🇦 but my therapist) but it was during my psychotic depression (w chronic paranoia) and now I feel ways about seeing a therapist.. idk don’t recommend seeing one if ur like that, it was kinda traumatizing and it wasn’t the therapists fault

Everything is traumatizing when ur in a state like that :( still learning what triggers I got while like that esp having experienced things for as long as I have

I also never told my therapist about the psychotic symptoms I was experiencing during things, didn’t trust being honest about them with a professional at the time, just had to mask a lot. Didn’t tell my family either. I was rlly scared about the terrifying things I was going through internally

[dorianbrightmusic]

New Antipsychotic FDA Approval – Cobenfy

Cobenfy (xanomeline/trospium chloride) has just been approved for schizophrenia treatment in the US. This is huge. It's the first antipsychotic in decades to not target dopamine directly. It's got a much, much better side-effect profile, and it might work for negative and cognitive symptoms.

FOR MORE READING – news report/patient-centred plain language overview: See here.

FOR MORE READING – scientific evidence report: See here (note: the drug is referred to as 'KarXT' in this report).

I couldn't be happier right now. People with psychosis go through so, so much trying to find medications that are both useful and tolerable, and psychiatry has historically neglected psychotic people's needs so, so awfully. (Not to mention how little there is that actually helps with anything other than positive symptoms.) So I'm really, really hoping that with the proof that we can, in fact, make antipsychotics that aren't based on the same old pharmacological things we've tried before. Cobenfy is a muscarinic agonist/antagonist in fixed combination – and it also indirectly regulates dopamine and glutamate. And given that we know both dopamine and NMDA are probably involved in schizophrenia somehow – AND that treating things to do with either is hard – this is so, so, so exciting.

This isn't to say Cobenfy doesn't have side-effects (the most common ones being nausea, constipation, dyspepsia, vomiting, hypertension, dry mouth, and tachycardia. We also know that there is a small risk of extrapyramidal symptoms, and that prolactin-related side-effects do happen, unfortunately). We don't know much about how it affects folks in the long-term, or much about the long-term tardive dyskinesia risk. But even so, it's progress compared to some of the worse antipsychotic side-effects.

Moreover, there is a possibility it might be useful for negative and cognitive symptoms. Holy crap.

I'm really really really excited. I hope this is the start of a shift in psychiatry towards better standards of patient-centred care for psychosis. Y'all have deserved better for far too long – here's hoping this is the start of more ethical, effective treatment.

[red-lights-of-doooooom]

Happy Saturnalia, assholes

I think I got a date but I'm not sure

I could have scared him off by oversharing about crazy moments from my childhood but honestly it might be too soon to tell

Quite sure that all the sexy goth charm I have instantly evaporates once my fingers start typing and they realize how much of a socially-inept autistic fuckup I am.

But hey, it's worth a shot!

Yeah, I wanna sit on someone. But I also kind of want all the warm fuzzy feelings that come with cuddling, and kisses, and all the other safe, gooey shit that everyone takes for granted.

I may be coming on too strong but I don't care. I'll just keep on being polite and courteous. Even if it destroys me inside.

Hopefully people see past that and decide that they actually genuinely like me. Somehow.

I am NOT going to take it by force. I know how it ends when you try to brute force your way into friendships. Believe me, I would rather kill myself than do that with relationships.

Everyone already thinks I'm a useless shit. I gotta prove them wrong and hope someone actually gives a bit more of a damn than they regularly would.

[dhampir-dyke]

.

[pplatonic]

You cannot know the history of schizophrenia as a diagnosis without coming to the conclusion that the fault of the misinformation surrounding schizophrenia and its setback in its research in modern society is a direct result of the laziness of past clinicians.

Negative symptoms used to be the focus of this illness when Kraepelin and Bleuler defined it - Kraepelin thought them to be more important and Bleuler literally defined them as FUNDAMENTAL symptoms.

Then in the 60s and 70s, since hallucinations and delusions were easy to spot and define, they were given more and more prominence in the hopes of "improving diagnostic precision." In real people language, that means they were lazy and wanted a quick checklist to go off of instead of, you know, caring about their patients.

What resulted from this is that now nearly everyone thinks schizophrenia is just hallucinations and delusions. On the medical side of things, the only treatments available for it treat psychotic symptoms, and the majority of the research focuses on them. Which leaves the rest of the debilitating symptoms untreated.

There are corrective adjustments being made to return to the emphasis on negative symptoms, and cognitive symptoms accompany that, but it should have never changed in the first place. Plus, the majority of society isn't adjusting their worldview to align with current perspectives on schizophrenia.

Schizophrenia was historically about the negative symptoms, and it always should have stayed that way. Schizophrenia is not just a "disorder that causes psychosis." It has negative, cognitive, disorganized, and catatonic symptoms as well.

Schizophrenia is a disorder affecting thought, behavior, and emotion, that is accompanied by psychotic features when left untreated.

Stop boiling down illnesses to basic symptoms. Teach and treat them wholistically.

[pawberri]

Myths about disability in the US that I hear all the time and that are super damaging

1. If you get a diagnosis, all your doctors and employers and family members will know

No. HIPAA makes all of this super illegal and unlikely. If you’re a minor, or in a situation where your parents have access to your records that’s one thing, but if you’re an adult with legal control over yourself YOU get to choose who has access to to your medical records. When I was younger I had this idea that diagnosis and stuff went on some kind of “permanent record” that anyone with power could access, but medical records are very decentralized and you have to give permission to your care team for them to get old records from other doctors. You can literally have a different diagnostic profile with every doctor you see.

2. If you get a diagnosis you have to say you have a disability on job applications

No. If anything it’s the employer who’s in a dubious position for putting that question on a job application. If those questions serve some actual purpose it’s to see if you’re physically capable of performing the job and or for diversity hiring. In any case, you have zero legal obligation to disclose your disability and will not face repercussions for not doing so. Again, the employer has no access to your medical records.

3. Having a diagnosis makes you more likely to be institutionalized/suffer from ableism

I can’t say this is completely 100% inaccurate all the time, but for the most part you are under equal or worse risk of suffering at the hands of the system without a diagnosis. A diagnosis usually implies treatment, and can often aid in getting treatment. Having good treatment improves your quality of life and control of yourself. Having control of yourself gives you a better chance of not getting into a situation where your rights actually are stripped from you (I.e being 50150d for suicide, public psychotic breaks, etc) and having proof of treatment outside an institution actually gives you a better chance of not being held longer. Though as a bonus myth being held for more than a few days requires a court hearing and significant effort and is not a given. Going “lalala I can’t hear you” about your mental illness actually does not make life better for you.

Does any of this mean that absurd human rights abuses I can’t account for won’t and don’t happen? No. But the system does not function how many people believe and will tell you it does. Your medical records are solidly private and under your control 90% of the time. People fear monger A LOT about the fact that being disabled and diagnosed will immediately ruin your life. They do it in the name of “fighting ableism” but it’s a straight up lie. Diagnosis is not the end of your life or career. It’s a part of treatment.

[writeyouin]

Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Fem-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 7

Chapter 7 - A Day With Alastor

A/N – Well, it took a while but I finally felt up to writing a bit. There’s still a lot of sadness at home right now, but I’ll try to keep writing.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

TAG LIST: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @sseleniaa @randomgurl2326 @22carolina08 @astrxwitch @yu-87 @clover-1767 @lil-bexie @thesimpybitch @reverse-soe @koirb @usernameunavailable2 @lavenderkita @kannakanan @mcueveryday @amarokofficial @mbruben-stein @tyrythewolf @lasagna-501 @bizzardvark @firefirefeline @kaylanotkk @missme-07 @memontica @angelsdemonsmonsters @tj4shy @midoria-kinnie @meesachan @fusehoundshipper @velvettenoctus @crescent-z @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @rosiescannibalwife @skylerbutterfly @hamthepan @latersgaters-steven @kryptidkova @sleepyhead-number27 @cherry-4200 @harcourtholmesii @alastorandluciferspouse @holyspacething @kedelman24 @becsmarvel @vash-yuu @k-n0-x @radio-leigh @tamaki-simp @wolfdaddyalphasworld @http-dilflvr @cosmic-lavender

MALE VERSION HERE

GN / NB VERSION HERE

You woke up in Angel’s bed. The previous night, you two had laughed, danced, ordered pizza and stayed tucked away in the safe haven of his bedroom. In that time, Angel had been reminded of how much his life had improved recently, and how precious his new friends were, and you had allowed yourself to relax, once again reverting to your previous human appearance. Yet, after revealing how you had died twice in a night, the change to look human felt more like a choice rather than the repression of painful emotions; you still had no love for your Demonic appearance, but you felt it wouldn’t be so terrible if it was seen among friends, or if you wanted a break from the low thrum of energy it took to keep your human façade in place.

You groaned tiredly as you pushed yourself up, never having been a morning person, and upon looking through the slats of the shaded window, you saw that it was very early indeed.

Angel had already left, and you made a mental note to call him in the evening when you knew he would be done with work. Despite the fun respite the two of you had shared, Angel would undoubtedly have a terrible day as Valentino’s plaything.

Stretching, you got up and headed downstairs for breakfast, surprised when you didn’t see anyone at the breakfast bar. Technically, the breakfast bar was just the regular bar, but since Husk typically spent his mornings sleeping in, everyone had adopted it as the breakfast bar and so there were always boxes of cereal on it until noon.

Thinking about it, you realised that since Charlie and Vaggie weren’t there to greet you, Angel Dust had likely talked them through the previous night and reassured them that everything was going to be okay. It had undoubtedly been a tearful reunion for Charlie. Angel Dust would have laughed and played it off like it was nothing, though he would have secretly been touched that Charlie cared enough to cry over someone like him, and Vaggie would have been left to care for Charlie and steer her in the direction of her daily duties.

Absently, you reached for a box and began pouring yourself a bowl of Glutton-O’s. There was a thunk in the bowl as a dead cockroach pinned to a cheap ring of plastic fell into it. You hummed at Nifty’s idea of a breakfast prize, though you didn’t scoff at it. Instead, you opted to wear it, just in case the psychotic little maid was around. If she was, you would make her happy, and if she wasn’t, you could always throw it away when you were far from the Hotel.

Despite claiming the prize, you opted not to eat the tainted cereal, getting up to leave instead.

“Ah, (Y/N), good morning,” Alastor greeted you energetically as if he had only just spotted you when in reality he had been waiting patiently for you to awaken and head downstairs.

“Morning Alastor,” You replied warmly, used to his sudden appearances.

“I didn’t know you were back in our wonderful home. Tell me, was it trouble in Paradise with Lucifer?” His head lurched to the side and his grin became more malicious as he mentioned his rival’s name, though he was back to his default expression a moment later when you replied.

“Christ on a stick, Al. You make it sound like we’re a couple or something.” You shook your head, chuckling, “No, everything’s fine between me and Charlie’s dad. I just came over to visit last night. I’ll be going soon though.”

“Going? Oh my. Well, I can’t let you go without first ensuring you’ve had an enchanting day out. How would you feel about joining me on my morning constitutional?”

You smiled and got up, straightening your crumpled clothes. “Sure, I could do with a walk.”

“Wonderful!” Alastor stamped his cane to the floor, and your outfit transformed into one more fitting for a trip to Cannibal Town.

“Oh,” You hummed, glancing down at the new outfit. You weren’t offended; Alastor liked his travelling companions to look their best and to be honest, you had needed a fresh change of clothes. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, my dear,” He replied brightly.

Then, Alastor offered you his arm, a rare gesture seeing as he didn’t liked to be touched, and after escorting you out of the hotel, the two of you separated, walking side by side.

You had been to Cannibal Town only twice in the past. The first time was because that was where you arrived upon your death. The second time, you were running from the carnage caused by some loan sharks wherein you had been caught in the crossfire. At the time, you had been dressed so poorly that the inhabitants of the elegant town had chased you to the border, trying to take a bite out of you.

Since then, you hadn’t been back. However, seeing as Alastor was escorting you and since you were now dressed to match the high standards Cannibal Town held, you felt safe in going there.

All those who passed by you and Alastor stopped to bow or tip their hats in due reverence to the Overlord.

“So…” You started, “Is this your territory?”

Alastor threw back his head and laughed, “Ha-ha-ha, my territory? No, no. This wonderful patch of Hell belongs to my good friend, Rosie. Now there’s a fine Lady, if you’ve ever met one.” He hummed happily, “Indeed, they don’t make them like her anymore. I’d introduce the two of you, but I have it on good authority that she is currently away attending business.”

With that, Alastor led you to some of the finer boutiques of the Town. He snapped his fingers and the attendees rushed to his side, crowding him, and pushing you out somewhat. You shrugged your shoulders and began looking around at the many wonderful clothes surrounding you.

You had seen old films wherein boutiques like this once existed, with attendants and fine boxes tied with perfectly curled ribbons. Until now, they had seemed to be a thing of the past, but one good thing about Hell was that the past was all around you, and should you want a taste of something more modern, you could always catch up with a bit of Vox-tech, ensuring the best of both worlds.

You heard the sharp static screech that meant Alastor was offended and turned to find him gesturing at you.

The salespeople who previously crowded him were suddenly surrounding you.

“Alastor, what’s going on?” You asked uncertainly.

“Well, my darling,” He grinned devilishly, “Call this my treat. It’s rare that I have someone travel with me so willingly and I do find it ever so nice to have a passion project these days. So, these fine people are ready to bow to your every whim. Clothes, pearls, a bottle of the finest Champagne, you name it and they will bring it to you. In fact-” Alastor clapped his hands lightly and suddenly a tiny imp rushed to his side, struggling under the weight of the ice bucket he held above his head.

Alastor waited as another hired imp hurried over to pour two flutes of Brut Imperial Moet & Chandon Champagne, handing one glass to Alastor and forcing the other into your hand.

Alastor took a sip and smacked his lips together, eliciting a satisfied sigh, “Ah, 1911, a fine vintage. So, a new wardrobe then?”

“Oh, Alastor, I- I couldn’t,” You said sheepishly as a Cannibal Tailor began taking your measurements, holding a tape measure against your leg.

You tried to walk back to Alastor but were restrained when the tailor hooked the tape around your waist.

“Nonsense, I insist.” Alastor chuckled.

“No, really. I didn’t come here to get anything from you.”

“Exactly! You don’t want anything from me, and that’s precisely why you shall have everything. I do ever so enjoy gifting my friends, especially those humble enough to try and deny me my eccentricities.”

You tried to argue further, but it quickly became an exercise in futility. No matter what happened, you would not be able to convince Alastor to change his mind. So, you gave in, and in doing so, you ended up having one of the best days of your afterlife.

That day, you felt like you were a part of a movie montage. You were rushed about into changing rooms to try on several outfits tailored to you, your face was peppered with makeup, attendants were constantly by your side, gushing over you and offering mimosas or whatever else your heart desired (though, you avoided the finger sandwiches filled with actual human fingers, or any other food, seeing as you were afraid of what might be in it.)

Overall, you knew that this kind of attention would be too much if you were constantly plied with it, but for a short while, it was fun, and you were happy to let yourself be spoiled.

Finally, Alastor decided he had given you enough and offered to take you out for afternoon tea, which you happily agreed to as long as there were some non-cannibal options.

Alastor rested a hand over his heart as if offended, “Oh, you non-cannibals don’t know the kind of flavours you are missing, but if you insist, I promise to take you to one of the tamer venues in town.”

He waved the attendants away, leaving your new belongings to a Demon who would have them transported directly into your room.

When the two of you sat down outside of the Insani-Tea tea house that overlooked the pavilion in the central plaza, Alastor sighed contentedly. He picked up his cup and swirled it around airily, taking a look at the scenery as he changed the topic from the previous ones about the hotel, “This has been quite a lovely day if I do say so myself.”

You smiled happily, resting your hands around your tea cup and relishing the gentle warmth, “It has. Thank you, Alastor. I needed a nice day like this.”

“Hm? So, life with our all-powerful Satan hasn’t been all you imagined.”

You chuckled as Alastor caught your eye, “Well, it was all Charlie’s idea, and you know what she’s like when she gets a thought into her head.”

“Indeed. A very determined young lady.”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

“You’re not happy, then?”

You took a moment to contemplate the question, “Honestly? I think I’m the happiest I’ve ever been in a very long time. It’s… hard sometimes to be in such a new place when I felt so at home in the hotel, but I think that Charlie might be on the right track when it comes to Lucifer.

Granted, her methods are… Well, she’s a real ballbuster when it comes to her ideals on friendship and the like, but I think that if her father could see what she’s trying to do and make a connection with people like us then he would see that Hell isn’t just one big punishment and that he and his family did manage to build something sort of good here.”

At the mention of Sinners as a Collective, Alastor’s grin became darker and more sinister in nature, as if he didn’t approve of your placement of him and the other Sinners on the same level, though, distracted as you were, you missed his disapproval and sense of superiority. He however didn’t miss the way your smile softened when you mentioned Lucifer’s success.

It wasn’t love. Of that, Alastor was certain, but if he nudged you in the right direction, you could probably fall for that blonde idiot, and if that happened, and if Lucifer somehow also found feelings for you, Alastor could use you to manipulate Lucifer.

Like all of Alastor’s plans, this would take time and a lot of work, but the reward would be great. With time, he would be the new ruler of Hell, and that was a day he sorely looked forward to.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that our darling Charlie was right in her hunch,” He said genially. “You should continue to work with Lucifer. I’m sure it would be beneficial for everyone.”

 “We’ll see,” You agreed, taking a sip of your tea.

Lucifer paced back and forth in the Pride Parlor where you usually spent your afternoons. Where were you? You had been missing all day.

He folded his arms tightly against his chest as he paced. Had he upset you the night before? What was he thinking? Of course he had! You had told him how you died, and now… Now, what? Had you run away? Should he call Charlie?

Lucifer didn’t know what to do. He didn’t own you, and while you had claimed him as your friend, he had never reciprocated in kind.

The sound of the door opening caught Lucifer’s attention and he looked up hopefully, but it was only Spick closely followed by Span, each of the snakes holding feather dusters and getting to work cleaning the room. Lucifer watched as Span dusted the fireplace mantle, his eyes travelling upward to a portrait of him and Lilith together; it was one of the earlier pieces he had commissioned from an awful Sinner, Salvador Dali; the artist’s punishment for selling his soul to an Overlord had been that whenever he was commissioned, he wasn’t allowed to paint his beloved surrealism art and could instead only paint portraits.

In the painting, Lucifer was staring intently at Lilith, admiring her for everything she was or ever would be since her potential was limitless to him. She however was looking straight ahead, a demure smile upon her face.

When Lucifer thought of you, he couldn’t help also thinking of Lilith. Granted, you and he were only friends, but Lilith had also disappeared and now she had been missing for seven lonely years. Lucifer would hate to think that he had driven the only other person to live with him since then away too.

Anxiously, he twisted his wedding ring from side to side, feeling more miserable than ever.

“Hey boys,” Your cheery voice greeted as you entered the parlour.

Lucifer spun around to find you eagerly smushing Spick and Span’s faces like they were puppies or something equally as pettable.

“(Y/N)… You’re back,” He murmured quietly.

Mistaking his quietness for indifference towards you, you wilted somewhat, “Yeah, but I can uh- I can leave again if that’s what you want.”

“What I want?” Lucifer repeated listlessly. He held up his hand as if he was going to touch you, but let it drop again, “I’m… I’m going to my workshop.”

You nodded, your brows furrowing at the strange exchange, “Okay, I’ll- I’ll be in my room.”

Lucifer passed by you to leave the parlour first, then he seemed to change his mind, if only for a moment.

“It’s good to have you back,” He said softly before heading out.

You smiled to yourself, relieved. “It’s good to be back.”

You thought that Lucifer hadn’t heard you, yet as he walked to his workshop, a small smile reached his lips; it had been a long time since he’d considered anyone new to be a friend.

[genderqueerdykes]

hi forgive the unsolicited advice, but that doctor experience was fucked and you have a right to file a complaint. Also, have you considered bringing a friend to advocate for you? I do it with my friends and then the doctor listens to me repeat my friends' questions and has to explain their bias to me or be on their best behavior and give the medical care they're actually supposed to give.

that's not unsolicited advice at all, thank you!

i do not have many friends or people who can come to appointments and advocate for me unfortunately- i had to separate from my last friend group because of how toxic and abusive they were being, so i'm currently in the middle of looking for new local friends. i do have a neighbor who cares about me a lot though and i might be able to ask her to attend appointments with me where i feel like i'm unseen

that's really great that your friend is there to help you with that! i did that for one of my first appointments when i was seeking help for my fatigue/fibromyalgia. she did a great job of reasserting what i had been saying to the doctor and not letting him just make assumptions

what i'm going to do is call back the patient advocate for that facility and let them know that i got my surgery done without a hitch elsewhere and that the person who told me that they couldn't do the surgery for me because of my weight need to be reported and honestly fired, because they're doing this to other people, not just me. you shouldn't go into medicine if you are not concerned about improving the health of every patient who comes into your office.

i don't care if they're rude. i don't care if they're homeless. i don't care if they have addictions. i don't care if they are incoherent or in a psychotic episode. i don't care if that person is 600+ lbs- they still need help. as a medical professional you don't get to pick and choose who you help, you don't get to be petty and only want to provide care to rich, skinny white people. everyone needs help eventually

thanks for your kind message i appreciate it!

[linuxfemme]

i say this in the most sincere way i possibly can. we as a society need general information on schizophrenia and related psychotic disorders to be well known it is IMPERATIVE that as a society if we want to improve that we begin to demystify schizophrenia in the public eye. do you know what negative symptoms to look out for in the prodromal period before positive psychotic symptoms begin when early treatment is crucial? do you know what you would do if you or a loved one began to experience acute psychosis and there was no opportunity to make a plan or discuss anybody's wishes?

schizophrenia and other psychotic disorders are a part of being human. we don't know what causes them but there are documented cases of it happening for very many years across all cultures. some studies believe around 2million americans (1 in 100) are affected by a psychotic disorder. you and your loved ones are not immune.

stop viewing schizophrenia as the mysterious ~most serious mental illness~ that only exists in hushed voices. schizophrenia is an illness that is not shameful to have. read about it. talk about it. ask people if they knew it comes with so many symptoms other than hallucinations and delusions. ask them if they knew it was so hard for people to receive treatment for it. did you know it's hard to estimate how many people have it because homelessness and financial issues are so closely tied to the illness?

let's create a world where schizophrenia is not seen as scary but as an illness. let's create a world that is kinder towards people with it and with better access to care.

[silver-tooth-the-panther]

Hi, do you still write fnaf vore? If so, can I have some same size female night guard x springtrap vore? She doesn’t feel safe working at fazbear’s fright and when springtrap finally catches her he offers her a nice warm place to stay.

Thanks and no pressure and if you don’t feel like writing this!

(Don’t worry, sweetheart. I actually did like writing this! Plus it gave me an excuse to make a FNAF AU. I call it, the Biomechanics AU! It’s basically where the animatronics are half organic and half machine. This is so I can do fic requests for FNAF characters that aren’t from Security Breech. I can explain more about the AU in asks or in other posts!)

Not So Frightening Bunny

(A FNAF Springtrap Fanfic)

Warnings: Soft vore and some fear play

Word Count: 1855

Another day, another nightmare. Y/N hated every night she had to spend at that hell hole. Green lighting made the haunted attraction feel grimy and filthy. The corpse of animatronic animals made her feel incredibly uneasy. Y/N knew that Fazbear Frights was supposed to be creepy, but she never was a horror fan to begin with.

Rumors of the place certainly didn’t help either. She once heard that the place is watched by a possessed rabbit animatronic who once killed a plethora of children in the 80’s. Y/N tried looking into these rumors on the internet and nothing came up. Still, they made her stomach grow heavy whenever she entered the building.

“It’s just until six.” Y/N whispered to herself, a futile attempt to comfort herself as she unlocked the door and walked inside. Footsteps rang through the empty building as she slowly headed to her office. All she had to do was make sure that no intruders would get into the building and steal private property. Easy enough, right?

Y/N practically plopped into the office chair, tilting her head back to sigh in relief. She then swirled around in the chair to look at the cameras. “They really need to improve the lighting.” Y/N growled as she clicked through the cameras, barely able to see anything.

On the other side of the haunted attraction, a green, humanoid rabbit was snoring away. Springtrap was the guardian of this place and he normally was rather alert during the night. He was the one responsible for scaring the customers when Fazbear Frights was open. When it was closed, he was a gentle old man.

Golden Freddy, one of the younger biomechanical animatronics, peaked his head around the corner. “Dad?” The yellow bear timidly stepped closer to the sleeping rabbit. “Dad. The night guard’s here.” Springtrap’s snoring hitched as his eyes slowly batted open. “Huh? Wha-?” He sat up, rubbing his yellow eyes. “She’s here?”

Golden Freddy nodded, fiddling with his fingers. “Yeah. Just walked into her office.” Springtrap stood up and stretched, yawning as he did so. “Is she still nervous?” The yellow bear nodded his head rather quickly, looking rather solemn. “Oh yeah. Her hands were shakin’ pretty bad.” The yellow bear sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Them rumors really ain’t doin’ us any good.”

Springtrap grumbled softly, rubbing his forehead in annoyance. “They really aren’t, Goldie. They just make people think we’re some psychotic animals.” The rabbit scratched his chin for a second. “Maybe I could try introducing myself to her…If I do that, maybe she’ll feel more comfortable coming here.”

Golden Freddy nodded, raising his eyebrows in thought. “That might actually work.” Springtrap grinned, glad to see that the bear agreed. “Wanna come with me?” The golden bear shook his head in a sad manner. “Sorry, Dad. I gotta head back to the pizzeria. Bonnie said he needed some help repairing the kitchen camera.”

Springtrap nodded in an understanding way. “That thing’s been busted for a while. Good thing you two are finally taking care of it. Good luck, Goldie.” Golden Freddy gave his father figure a thumbs up before walking off, heading to the pizzeria.

The yellow rabbit sighed to himself as he stared down the empty hallway, feeling a sense of nervous anticipation rising in him. He shook his head to get himself ready. “Whelp. Better now than never!” With a warm smile, Springtrap hummed as he headed down the hallway.

Y/N was close to dozing off, feeling her eyelids growing heavy with sleep deprivation. Then, a chill went up her spine, jolting her awake. She quickly clicked through the cameras to see if anything was there. Dim lighting made it difficult to see anything, which only made her anxiety worse. “Come on! Work!” Y/N growled as she aggressively clicked through the cameras.

It was then that she saw the faint shadow of something moving past the entrance of a hallway. Y/N’s heart quickened as she clicked the next camera over. She could faintly see someone moving through the hallway. “Shit!” Y/N scrambled out of the chair and slid to the desk. She quickly began to shuffle through the drawers in a hurried fashion.

“Where the fuck is the knife?! Where’s the pepper spray?!” Y/N continued to shuffle through the drawers in hopes of finding a weapon. Unfortunately for her, the elusive being had already made it to the entrance of the office.

“Hello there.” Springtrap said in his usual warm voice. Jolting back, Y/N immediately shrieked when she saw him. The rabbit covered his ears, groaning in annoyance. “Jeez, think you could get any higher?” Y/N scooted backwards, feeling trapped by the rabbit. Her terrified eyes locked with his. Feeling her heart pounding, Y/N shook like a scared puppy.

“S-so…the ru-rumors are tra-true!” She gasped for air, feeling her back press against the wall. Springtrap looked at the woman with a guilty look. He didn’t think he would scare her THIS much. “No, hun. They are not true.” The rabbit shook his head as he crouched down, which only made Y/N press against the wall more.

“What do you mean?! Aren’t you the possessed bunny?!” Springtrap nearly laughed at Y/N’s question. “Possessed? No, hun. I ain’t possessed.” Y/N raised her eyebrow, feeling incredibly confused. “Then…what are you?” Springtrap folded his arms over his chest. “I am a biomechanical rabbit. Half organic, half machine. I was actually born in a lab, along with every attraction created by the Fazbear company!”

Y/N tilted her head. She had heard of this new type of engineering since it had stirred up some controversy. Yet, she was skeptical that this was the result of said engineering. “Don’t believe me?” Springtrap chuckled, seeing the skepticism on her face. He then outstretched his arm, which made Y/N jump a bit. “Here, check for my pulse. A possessed robot cannot have a pulse.

Y/N timidly placed her hand on Springtrap’s wrist. Placing her thumb where his veins would be, she actually felt a pulse. It was faint, but it was there. “Woah…” Y/N whispered in an astonished voice. Springtrap chuckled softly at the woman’s wonder. “Cool, huh?” Y/N nodded shyly. “Yeah. It kinda is.” She then looked up at the large rabbit, feeling a small sense of guilt. “Sorry….”

Springtrap chuckled slightly and scratched the back of his neck. “No worries, hun. Frankly, you had every right to be scared.” The large rabbit sighed. “I can only imagine what it must’ve been like to work here.” Y/N sighed as well, feeling a bit more relaxed. “I’m just an anxious person, really. Doesn’t help that I don’t get much sleep.”

The large rabbit raised a worried eyebrow. “You haven’t? Why not?” Y/N shrugged as she brought her knees to her chest. “I usually have a hard time falling asleep. Not to mention that I work night shifts.” Springtrap nodded, growling in annoyance. “I keep telling the managers that we don’t need to burden humans by making them night guards. The other animatronics and I can defend our establishments easily.”

Y/N nodded in agreement. Judging by the size of the rabbit, he could probably protect this place from intruders easily. She could feel her eyelids grow heavy again and rubbed her eyes. “Crap…” Y/N spoke in a soft, slow voice. Springtrap knew that the poor woman needed some sleep, so he knew of a way to help her.

“Here. I can help ya sleep.” Springtrap spoke in a soft voice as he got closer to her. Y/N shook her head as she yawned. “No. I can’t sleep on the job.” The rabbit chuckled as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Hun, all the managers care about is that nothing gets stolen. I can prevent that. You just need to sleep.”

Y/N thought about it for a moment before signing. “Sure…What are you going to do?” Springtrap now had both of his hands on both of her shoulders. “I’ll take you to a warm place. Just try not to move, okay?” Before Y/N could object, Springtrap’s maw lowered over her head, covering her in sweet-smelling saliva.

“Wait! S-Stop!” Fear filled her heart once more as she struggled against the soft, yet tight muscles. The rabbit continued to gently push her body into his gullet. He was gentle with her as he swallowed her down. Despite this, Y/N struggled against him, failing miserably to get out of this situation.

Springtrap felt guilt creep up on him, knowing that the scared woman was actually safe. He heard her muffled yelps through the soft flesh. With one last gulp, Springtrap sent the woman into his stomach.

Y/N looked around the dark, warm space she found herself in. It was slightly tight in there. Not too much of course, but enough to spike her anxiety. She banged against the soft, slippery walls. “Let me out! Please!” Y/N cried out, her voice sounding muffled to the rabbit.

Springtrap’s ears slicked back as he watched his stomach jostle about. Understanding why she was scared, Springtrap sat in the office chair and rubbed his enlarged belly. “Shh, it’s alright, hun. You’re safe.” Y/N heard the rabbit’s muffled voice from the inside, shaking her head in disbelief. “Safe?! How am I safe?! You ate me!” Tears streamed down her face as she curled up in the organ. “I don’t wanna be digested.”

The rabbit felt his heart break as he heard the woman’s words. He gently rubbed his belly with a gentle tenderness. “You’re not going to be digested.” He heard the woman whimper softly. “You’re…not?” Y/N spoke softly, shivering in fear. “Oh god no.” Springtrap shook his head. He couldn’t fathom the idea of digesting someone. “No. You’re safe in there, hun. Trust me.”

Y/N let herself calm down enough to truly take in her surroundings. Warmth radiated from the organ as it moved up and down, syncing with Springtrap’s breathing. It gurgled and groaned ever so softly and the sound of Springtrap’s pulse was much more pronounced in here. She could feel the rabbit rubbing his belly, which oddly brought a sense of comfort to her. Y/N sighed as she snuggled up against the walls of the organ. “It’s warm in here….”

“It is, isn’t it?” Springtrap chuckled as he patted his tummy. “Are you comfy in there?” Y/N nodded as she felt her eyelids grow heavy again. “Yeah…I am…” Her breathing slowed as she felt sleep creep up on her. The rabbit could tell that the woman in his belly was falling asleep.

“Rest now, hun. I’ll take it from here.” He said to encourage her. This worked as only a few seconds later, he heard soft snoring coming from his tummy. Springtrap sighed and rubbed his belly as he rolled the chair over to the cameras, keeping his promise. “Jeez…” He chuckled lightly. “Does she know she can turn the brightness up on these?”

Hope ya enjoyed it! I want to make a proper apology to everyone who has requested a fanfic. I’ve been really busy and struggling with home issues and depression. I’m going to try to clear my inbox the best I can. Hopefully, I haven’t gotten rusty!

[ikamigami]

If Sun would become villain.. I trying to come to terms at least a bit with this thought.. and I realized that I would be disappointed in him..

Just like with any other character who became a villain.. especially when they were always trying their best before..

It's just hella disappointing..

Though tbh personally I doubt that Sun will become a villain..

He has mental disorder that makes him feel like a villain basically..

But he still tries his best..

So I think that Sun may have another big psychotic episode.. one that will make him believe that he's controlled by someone in his head for example.. the thing that Creator left in his head for example..

But we shall see..

I don't want to be disappointed in Sun because he's my favourite.. but sometimes when your favourite character does stupid things like becoming a villain you can't just take it calmly nxnxnnxnxnxnxnxn

But it's okay cause at the end of the day it's all fiction..

Please Sun don't turn into a villain.. don't give up on trying your best..

I can only forgive Sun doing something so stupid if he'll regret it afterwards and will try to improve.. basically just like he always does..

But also tbh I don't want Sun to turn into a villain cause he's the only one who live the longest and always tries his best.. no matter what.. just as anyone should actually.. I mean also people in real life..

We have too many characters who just give up and just don't care about anything and they become bitter because of it..

And it's actually thanks to how good Sun always try to be Moon decided to try to change and still does..

I can accept Sun having some arc when others try to remind him that he's a good person when he'll derail onto a path to villainy or something..

I just don't want this story to turn out to be a story about how Sun became a villain.. a bad guy.. cause it'd be a bit depressing to say the least..

I'm trying to trust the process and I'm sorry once again for complaining so much about many things in these shows..

[crispytime]

Who’s the worst father, Gaster (Handplates) or Willaim Afton?

Embarrassing to admit, my knowledge of the Afton family in the FNAF lore is pretty limited. I only know the 2021 Gacha lore stuff and the FNAF movie, ask me anything more and I'm lost 😭 I won't be able to really go into depth bc again I don't really know William Afton very well. But I might have to go with William Afton being worse. I haven't read the books so I will focus on game and movie Afton.

Gaster and William are both horrendous, but I think William Afton did specifically design his animatronics to kill children which consequently killed his son and daughter, then later his oldest son.

In the movie, Afton already had a bad relationship with his daughter and was even quick to literally STAB her when she went against him and tried to protect Michael and his sister. Lab Gaster and Afton are kind of similar here. They were both quick to go to violence once their kid(s) stepped out of line, I feel Gaster did it more to send a message to not cross him, in a really bad way... Afton did it more as a "Get tf out of my way."

I can't tell if it was out of impulse, or he just didn't care if she lived or not. He did seem to freeze up after he did it, like he was processing what he'd just done so there might be SOME care there?? Vanessa was protecting and helping Michael and Abby tell the truth to those kids he killed, and he knew that if that happened, he'd die. I feel that was more of a selfish thing he did in order to protect himself, and he didn't care what happened to Vanessa because he did immediately go back to trying to stop Michael and Abby. I think he cared more about his daughter's "loyalty" than her life.

It's hard to analyze the game because there's no true emotions tied to Afton's actions, they're just, "He did this and now yadda yadda yadda all his kids died." He might've shown some care with Elizabeth when he kept telling her to not go near Circus Baby because he knew what would happen. Regardless, he neglected Elizabeth and left her unsupervised near a literal death robot and we know what happens next. His youngest son (I still don't know his name, he flipped through like 7 different ones.) literally got his head bit off by Fredbear, you'd think maybe after one incident he'd feel more incentive to protect his other kids if he really did care but he didn't.. Idk which one died first bc that also changed a million times but after ONE of their deaths, if he cared he would've done more to protect them. Even with all the bs Gaster did, he AT LEAST made sure the brothers stayed alive, kept them physically healthy, and were mostlyyy cared for. (bare minimum)

I don't even know who cared for the kids more, if it was Mrs. Afton or William. So I don't really know, he already seems very negligent.

We do have moments where Gaster shows genuine care for the brothers, like protecting them from the Goop monster and healing Sans' exploded head. Refer back to my gigantic rant abt Gaster because I am not retyping all that. Even with Gaster after the void, for the most part he makes amends with the brothers and tries to make up for his cruelty and be the father he never was. He's not perfect but at least it's something ig. We don't really see this w Afton much, I don't know about book Afton, I highly doubt we have fatherly amends though.

The main difference between them is we see Gaster more personally than Afton, we see Gaster's thoughts and feelings throughout Handplates and he tries to fix what he can. while Afton is only seen as this psychotic killer who doesn't care for his family, I don't even know if he grieved his kids' death all that much either. There's a large separation of knowledge between the two characters so I'm not sure it's really fair for me to compare them, plus I'm very biased😭

But based off what I know, Afton and Gaster are both horrible fathers, but Gaster is slightly better because he was able to improve himself and his relationship with his kids, taking a more active role in their lives.

This rant is kinda bad bc I don't really have much to work off of 😔

[paceypeternathanslawyer]

I'm halfway through 4x02 of Outer Banks and I truly can't see how Topper gets redeemed like so many people say... but the real truth is that no matters what happens he will never be redeemed in my eyes. Topper is an irredeemable, abusive, controlling, psychopath and nothing he does will make me forgive him. Honestly I can't imagine Topper ever admitting he's been wrong or to blame for anything.

I mean here's a dude who beat up John B and nearly drowned him and the only reason he stopped short of killing John B was because JJ put his gun against Topper's head (BTW this was before Sarah cheated on Topper with John B. Important note cause you can't make the argument that he was justified. Not that this would be justified regardless but I just think it's needs to be noted). Did John B press charges? He should have but no. John B probably felt like no one would believe a practically homeless teen on the wrong side of the tracks vs some rich dude with a lot of power plus he was running away from being taken by the DCS at that point. But regardless, that was psychotic behavior. And yet in season 3 when Sarah cheated on John B with Topper and John B punched Topper and then punched him like twice more when he was down... Topper tried to press charges against John B. Those whole episodes Topper acts like he's such a victim and John B is such a psycho for punching him when he was down when Topper fucking tried to drown John B. And then when Sarah and he reconcile, Topper spies on them and in a fit of rage burns down the house that John B, Sarah, and their friends are in. Like let's not forget who started this war Topper!! And even in 4x02 which is like 8 episodes before the end of series, up to this point at least, Topper is still a pretentious jealous prick who can't admit that he's been wrong in the past.

Let's recap what Topper has done. Just of the things that come quickly to mind...

He got John B fired from his job

He nearly had sex with Sarah but then she pulled away and changed her mind, he acted all pissy and upset with her.

I believe he beat up Pope. Both he and Rafe did. Rafe was the one who took it way too far but I do seem to recall Topper took a part in the beating.

He pushed John B off of some sort of tree house that was high up in the air and John B was lucky to have survived

He horribly beat up and nearly drowned John B while also making horrible comments about how John B's father had drowned and asking if he wanted to be like his father.

In a fit of rage he burned a house that Sarah, John B, Pope, JJ, Cleo, and Kiara were in

He persecuted John B and contributed to trying to get him arrested for a murder he did not commit simply because he was jealous and angry at John B. There's no fucking way Topper would have cared otherwise. Certainly not to that extent.

He called Sarah a slut after she cheated on him in S1. Let the record show that John B never called Sarah a slut even after being betrayed by her in S3.

Just because he's saved Sarah a few times doesn't make him a good person. Of course he's saved Sarah, he's fucking obsessed with her to a scary extreme that causes him to persecute and nearly kill people for so much as looking at her. I mean even the most evil people in history have people in their lives that they care enough or are obsessed with enough to save from death. And he tried to control and manipulate her. Even if he saves John B in the future it would be suspect to me cause the only way he would do that would be to get in Sarah's good graces. The only way I would believe that he changed is if he spent many many years improving himself. And that would mean him becoming more accepting of the pogues and also doing nice things that Sarah doesn't know about and wouldn't benefit his relationship with Sarah whatsoever. He needs to show that he has changed in every area of his life and for no other reason than to be a good person. He would need to apologize to John B, Pope, Sarah, and everyone else he has wronged. I need to believe that he feels true shame for his past actions. Sarah is scared of Topper that's why she wouldn't say that she was married to John B. It wasn't shame or a lack of dedication to John B. The girl is very much aware of the anger that is within Topper and she is scared of it.

On another note. It's so interesting to me the way an actor will do some massive mental gymnastics to try and act like their character is justified or a good person. Like I read somewhere that the actor who plays Topper said that Topper wasn't jealous of Sarah being with the pogues. He was just scared for her safety because the pogues live dangerous lives. BITCH!! You fucking nearly killed Sarah in a fire after seeing her about to have sex with John B so don't act like this is about her safety not jealousy. I think he needs to get all his senses in check and maybe stock up on some brain cells. Topper doesn't care about Sarah he's just a possessive son of a bitch who is determined to own her.

AGGGHHH I hate that guy's ugly face and even uglier personality. Mostly talking about the character here but I must admit the horribleness of that character has shaded how I look at that actor. I'm usually pretty good at separating the two but this is a hard one. I have a hard time when the actor refuses to fully admit that they play a villain. I can't look at Dacre Montgomery the same way because of how he tried to make excuses for Billy and said that Billy wasn't racist even though the Duffers confirmed that Billy was racist and it's also fucking obvious that he's a racist. All I ask is that actors have a modicum of self awareness and also a bit of integrity while playing these characters. This is like the dangerous kind of method acting where in extreme cases it makes people act horrible behind the scenes to their fellow actors or in this case people will get so into the head of their characters that they can't or refuse to see the bad in the characters. Method acting didn't used to be this bad.

Edit: BTW the problem isn't that Topper has been angry and jealous. The problem is how he reacts to his anger and how he stokes his anger. I mean if we take each event we can see how he reacted in a psychotic manner. For one, when he nearly drowned John B it was for no other reason except prejudice because he's a pogue. I can't remember what the exact instigation was but I know that it did not warrant that reaction. And also he seemed to take too much pleasure in trying to kill John B. I feel like even the most ardent Topper defender would admit that he acted psychotic there. And that prejudice has not changed. He still hates pogues simply because they are pogues. He's still pretentious and hateful. Secondly, after he finds out that Sarah cheated on him with John B, he pushed him off of the tall tree house. Again John B could have died. That was a gross overreaction. If he had punched John B on the ground it would have been some great drama and honestly he would have been justified but his anger took his actions too far. Thirdly, before he beat up Pope... poor Pope was just minding his own business doing his job and I think they were on some country club land or something and Topper and Rafe acted like he didn't belong there maybe cause they're racist or maybe just because he's a pogue but either way it's horrible and prejudice and then Rafe and Topper beat him up for no other reason then they are prejudice and psychotic. Fourthly, when he burns down John B's house, that is in episode 3x08 I believe, which shows that he is still psychotic many years after that last incidents. Again punching John B would have been fine but instead he nearly kills 6 people. And the way he showed no shame in his actions and even moved forward in his attempt to press charges against John B... it's beyond psychotic and hypocritical.

[desoax]

Papayajuan / Kevin assaulted me the first night I met him. I had communicated that I wanted to be treated gently the first night, but instead he took advantage of me under the guise that my communication was confusing, because I am into BDSM but decided that'd be negative to my psyche to do the first time meeting. He did it anyway. I cried myself to sleep and for months fell off the wagon drinking and smoking. I also had him meet up with Miles, they both seemed pretty pissed off, it was really funny. Miles also attempted to take advantage of me when I was black out drunk in his bed after being at the beach with him and his friends who attempted to get me to eat Japanese curry that could have caused me anaphylaxis. He kept kissing me etc.

Then, there is Tara who made up an elaborate story of YEARS of domestic violence. Coincidentally, some of it sounded an awful lot like MY OWN DOMESTIC VIOLENCE STORY and OTHER PEOPLES STORIES OF VIOLENCE THAT WERE PRIVATELY SHARED on the former social media known as Peach. I'm dating who she was with now, and I've actually grilled him significantly because I remember a lot of what Tara posted. The restrain bruises on her arms, that is real and was because she wouldn't stop attacking him–why shouldn't he be able to restrain her in the case of assault? He didn't punch her and drag her around her entire young adult life as she claimed, or else maybe she wouldn't have gotten back with him, or married him. Before she left him to live in some guys basement, she manipulated him to pay for the worthless Ikea furniture she had purchased in the past. Even as I was hanging out with him, she was sending him false nonsense about me, even attempting to frame my previous profession as "using people for money".

Why do I believe him strongly? Well, when he was 18 he had brain imaging done that displayed he effectively did not have a cerebellum. So if anything, Tara was taking advantage of him in an extremely psychotic manner, specifically if she opted to make up stories about him while using his large appearance to prove how menacing he is. He has lost 100lbs since he has been with me. His cognition has drastically improved, as has his coordination, his balance (not as much of a heavy step), and his lazy eye is gone most of the time now. His emotions have gradually been more able to regulate since going onto a gluten free diet, so I believe he has gluten ataxia as I do, which causes gluten to attack your cerebellum. We have also pinpointed that he shares triggers with me, such as soy and peanuts, he will instantly start getting hives upon entering a restaurant using soybean oil. Tara was addicted to all of the foods that hurt him while also slathering herself in body wash with soybean oil, so his state while with her was a state of perpetual delusion and emotional dysregulation. Her addiction to xanax and alcohol caused her to also lash out at him with psychotic delusions about him, often attacking him, and this woman is not weak, because I vividly recall the photos she would post flexing her biceps after working out at the gym.

I believe he has MCAS like millions of people unknowingly do, or know they do, but are unable to get a diagnosis due to the lack of education medical professional get regarding the functions of mast cells. These people are only 3 of the reasons I no longer regularly use Tumblr, as I do not have time to eat up peoples fictional lives when my only interest is helping others with debilitating chronic illnesses that are unrecognized not only by the US government, but is also a GLOBAL epidemic of autoimmune conditions that are being swept under the rug as "RARE".

Thank you for reading. You could choose to believe these people, or me, I don't care. In the end, I'm the one who isn't afraid to put my full name and face out on this website.

p.s I love my friends and I miss you all very much... even if we broke off on a bad note, I mean no malice. I've had to focus heavily on myself because my illness progressing living in San Antonio, and it became hard to ignore going back to where I grew up and lived, still struggling. On top of the complex trauma issues I'm still coping with, it was nice to see my Mom apologize for testifying against me in court 4 1/2 years after it happened. Even though I nearly died at their house, at least I got that apology.

[writeyouin]

Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Male-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 7

Chapter 7 - A Day With Alastor

A/N – Well, it took a while but I finally felt up to writing a bit. There’s still a lot of sadness at home right now, but I’ll try to keep writing.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

TAG LIST: @lxkeee @moonieper @sle3pyh3ad2 @gomib0 @mixplara @ica1 @loser-monologue @blackbeautyiloveyouso @equkki @literalzxmbie

FEMALE VERSION HERE

GN / NB VERSION HERE

You woke up in Angel’s bed. The previous night, you two had laughed, danced, ordered pizza and stayed tucked away in the safe haven of his bedroom. In that time, Angel had been reminded of how much his life had improved recently, and how precious his new friends were, and you had allowed yourself to relax, once again reverting to your previous human appearance. Yet, after revealing how you had died twice in a night, the change to look human felt more like a choice rather than the repression of painful emotions; you still had no love for your Demonic appearance, but you felt it wouldn’t be so terrible if it was seen among friends, or if you wanted a break from the low thrum of energy it took to keep your human façade in place.

You groaned tiredly as you pushed yourself up, never having been a morning person, and upon looking through the slats of the shaded window, you saw that it was very early indeed.

Angel had already left, and you made a mental note to call him in the evening when you knew he would be done with work. Despite the fun respite the two of you had shared, Angel would undoubtedly have a terrible day as Valentino’s plaything.

Stretching, you got up and headed downstairs for breakfast, surprised when you didn’t see anyone at the breakfast bar. Technically, the breakfast bar was just the regular bar, but since Husk typically spent his mornings sleeping in, everyone had adopted it as the breakfast bar and so there were always boxes of cereal on it until noon.

Thinking about it, you realised that since Charlie and Vaggie weren’t there to greet you, Angel Dust had likely talked them through the previous night and reassured them that everything was going to be okay. It had undoubtedly been a tearful reunion for Charlie. Angel Dust would have laughed and played it off like it was nothing, though he would have secretly been touched that Charlie cared enough to cry over someone like him, and Vaggie would have been left to care for Charlie and steer her in the direction of her daily duties.

Absently, you reached for a box and began pouring yourself a bowl of Glutton-O’s. There was a thunk in the bowl as a dead cockroach pinned to a cheap ring of plastic fell into it. You hummed at Nifty’s idea of a breakfast prize, though you didn’t scoff at it. Instead, you opted to wear it, just in case the psychotic little maid was around. If she was, you would make her happy, and if she wasn’t, you could always throw it away when you were far from the Hotel.

Despite claiming the prize, you opted not to eat the tainted cereal, getting up to leave instead.

“Ah, (Y/N), good morning,” Alastor greeted you energetically as if he had only just spotted you when in reality he had been waiting patiently for you to awaken and head downstairs.

“Morning Alastor,” You replied warmly, used to his sudden appearances.

“I didn’t know you were back in our wonderful home. Tell me, was it trouble in Paradise with Lucifer?” His head lurched to the side and his grin became more malicious as he mentioned his rival’s name, though he was back to his default expression a moment later when you replied.

“Christ on a stick, Al. You make it sound like we’re a couple or something.” You shook your head, chuckling, “No, everything’s fine between me and Charlie’s dad. I just came over to visit last night. I’ll be going soon though.”

“Going? Oh my. Well, I can’t let you go without first ensuring you’ve had an enchanting day out. How would you feel about joining me on my morning constitutional?”

You smiled and got up, straightening your crumpled clothes. “Sure, I could do with a walk.”

“Wonderful!” Alastor stamped his cane to the floor, and your outfit transformed into one more fitting for a trip to Cannibal Town.

“Oh,” You hummed, glancing down at the new outfit. You weren’t offended; Alastor liked his travelling companions to look their best and to be honest, you had needed a fresh change of clothes. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, my dear,” He replied brightly.

Then, Alastor offered you his arm, a rare gesture seeing as he didn’t liked to be touched, and after escorting you out of the hotel, the two of you separated, walking side by side.

You had been to Cannibal Town only twice in the past. The first time was because that was where you arrived upon your death. The second time, you were running from the carnage caused by some loan sharks wherein you had been caught in the crossfire. At the time, you had been dressed so poorly that the inhabitants of the elegant town had chased you to the border, trying to take a bite out of you.

Since then, you hadn’t been back. However, seeing as Alastor was escorting you and since you were now dressed to match the high standards Cannibal Town held, you felt safe in going there.

All those who passed by you and Alastor stopped to bow or tip their hats in due reverence to the Overlord.

“So…” You started, “Is this your territory?”

Alastor threw back his head and laughed, “Ha-ha-ha, my territory? No, no. This wonderful patch of Hell belongs to my good friend, Rosie. Now there’s a fine Lady, if you’ve ever met one.” He hummed happily, “Indeed, they don’t make them like her anymore. I’d introduce the two of you, but I have it on good authority that she is currently away attending business.”

With that, Alastor led you to some of the finer boutiques of the Town. He snapped his fingers and the attendees rushed to his side, crowding him, and pushing you out somewhat. You shrugged your shoulders and began looking around at the many wonderful clothes surrounding you.

You had seen old films wherein boutiques like this once existed, with attendants and fine boxes tied with perfectly curled ribbons. Until now, they had seemed to be a thing of the past, but one good thing about Hell was that the past was all around you, and should you want a taste of something more modern, you could always catch up with a bit of Vox-tech, ensuring the best of both worlds.

You heard the sharp static screech that meant Alastor was offended and turned to find him gesturing at you.

The salespeople who previously crowded him were suddenly surrounding you.

“Alastor, what’s going on?” You asked uncertainly.

“Well, my darling,” He grinned devilishly, “Call this my treat. It’s rare that I have someone travel with me so willingly and I do find it ever so nice to have a passion project these days. So, these fine people are ready to bow to your every whim. Clothes, pearls, a bottle of the finest Champagne, you name it and they will bring it to you. In fact-” Alastor clapped his hands lightly and suddenly a tiny imp rushed to his side, struggling under the weight of the ice bucket he held above his head.

Alastor waited as another hired imp hurried over to pour two flutes of Brut Imperial Moet & Chandon Champagne, handing one glass to Alastor and forcing the other into your hand.

Alastor took a sip and smacked his lips together, eliciting a satisfied sigh, “Ah, 1911, a fine vintage. So, a new wardrobe then?”

“Oh, Alastor, I- I couldn’t,” You said sheepishly as a Cannibal Tailor began taking your measurements, holding a tape measure against your leg.

You tried to walk back to Alastor but were restrained when the tailor hooked the tape around your waist.

“Nonsense, I insist.” Alastor chuckled.

“No, really. I didn’t come here to get anything from you.”

“Exactly! You don’t want anything from me, and that’s precisely why you shall have everything. I do ever so enjoy gifting my friends, especially those humble enough to try and deny me my eccentricities.”

You tried to argue further, but it quickly became an exercise in futility. No matter what happened, you would not be able to convince Alastor to change his mind. So, you gave in, and in doing so, you ended up having one of the best days of your afterlife.

That day, you felt like you were a part of a movie montage. You were rushed about into changing rooms to try on several outfits tailored to you, your face was peppered with makeup, attendants were constantly by your side, gushing over you and offering mimosas or whatever else your heart desired (though, you avoided the finger sandwiches filled with actual human fingers, or any other food, seeing as you were afraid of what might be in it.)

Overall, you knew that this kind of attention would be too much if you were constantly plied with it, but for a short while, it was fun, and you were happy to let yourself be spoiled.

Finally, Alastor decided he had given you enough and offered to take you out for afternoon tea, which you happily agreed to as long as there were some non-cannibal options.

Alastor rested a hand over his heart as if offended, “Oh, you non-cannibals don’t know the kind of flavours you are missing, but if you insist, I promise to take you to one of the tamer venues in town.”

He waved the attendants away, leaving your new belongings to a Demon who would have them transported directly into your room.

When the two of you sat down outside of the Insani-Tea tea house that overlooked the pavilion in the central plaza, Alastor sighed contentedly. He picked up his cup and swirled it around airily, taking a look at the scenery as he changed the topic from the previous ones about the hotel, “This has been quite a lovely day if I do say so myself.”

You smiled happily, resting your hands around your tea cup and relishing the gentle warmth, “It has. Thank you, Alastor. I needed a nice day like this.”

“Hm? So, life with our all-powerful Satan hasn’t been all you imagined.”

You chuckled as Alastor caught your eye, “Well, it was all Charlie’s idea, and you know what she’s like when she gets a thought into her head.”

“Indeed. A very determined young lady.”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

“You’re not happy, then?”

You took a moment to contemplate the question, “Honestly? I think I’m the happiest I’ve ever been in a very long time. It’s… hard sometimes to be in such a new place when I felt so at home in the hotel, but I think that Charlie might be on the right track when it comes to Lucifer.

Granted, her methods are… Well, she’s a real ballbuster when it comes to her ideals on friendship and the like, but I think that if her father could see what she’s trying to do and make a connection with people like us then he would see that Hell isn’t just one big punishment and that he and his family did manage to build something sort of good here.”

At the mention of Sinners as a Collective, Alastor’s grin became darker and more sinister in nature, as if he didn’t approve of your placement of him and the other Sinners on the same level, though, distracted as you were, you missed his disapproval and sense of superiority. He however didn’t miss the way your smile softened when you mentioned Lucifer’s success.

It wasn’t love. Of that, Alastor was certain, but if he nudged you in the right direction, you could probably fall for that blonde idiot, and if that happened, and if Lucifer somehow also found feelings for you, Alastor could use you to manipulate Lucifer.

Like all of Alastor’s plans, this would take time and a lot of work, but the reward would be great. With time, he would be the new ruler of Hell, and that was a day he sorely looked forward to.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that our darling Charlie was right in her hunch,” He said genially. “You should continue to work with Lucifer. I’m sure it would be beneficial for everyone.”

 “We’ll see,” You agreed, taking a sip of your tea.

Lucifer paced back and forth in the Pride Parlor where you usually spent your afternoons. Where were you? You had been missing all day.

He folded his arms tightly against his chest as he paced. Had he upset you the night before? What was he thinking? Of course he had! You had told him how you died, and now… Now, what? Had you run away? Should he call Charlie?

Lucifer didn’t know what to do. He didn’t own you, and while you had claimed him as your friend, he had never reciprocated in kind.

The sound of the door opening caught Lucifer’s attention and he looked up hopefully, but it was only Spick closely followed by Span, each of the snakes holding feather dusters and getting to work cleaning the room. Lucifer watched as Span dusted the fireplace mantle, his eyes travelling upward to a portrait of him and Lilith together; it was one of the earlier pieces he had commissioned from an awful Sinner, Salvador Dali; the artist’s punishment for selling his soul to an Overlord had been that whenever he was commissioned, he wasn’t allowed to paint his beloved surrealism art and could instead only paint portraits.

In the painting, Lucifer was staring intently at Lilith, admiring her for everything she was or ever would be since her potential was limitless to him. She however was looking straight ahead, a demure smile upon her face.

When Lucifer thought of you, he couldn’t help also thinking of Lilith. Granted, you and he were only friends, but Lilith had also disappeared and now she had been missing for seven lonely years. Lucifer would hate to think that he had driven the only other person to live with him since then away too.

Anxiously, he twisted his wedding ring from side to side, feeling more miserable than ever.

“Hey boys,” Your cheery voice greeted as you entered the parlour.

Lucifer spun around to find you eagerly smushing Spick and Span’s faces like they were puppies or something equally as pettable.

“(Y/N)… You’re back,” He murmured quietly.

Mistaking his quietness for indifference towards you, you wilted somewhat, “Yeah, but I can uh- I can leave again if that’s what you want.”

“What I want?” Lucifer repeated listlessly. He held up his hand as if he was going to touch you, but let it drop again, “I’m… I’m going to my workshop.”

You nodded, your brows furrowing at the strange exchange, “Okay, I’ll- I’ll be in my room.”

Lucifer passed by you to leave the parlour first, then he seemed to change his mind, if only for a moment.

“It’s good to have you back,” He said softly before heading out.

You smiled to yourself, relieved. “It’s good to be back.”

You thought that Lucifer hadn’t heard you, yet as he walked to his workshop, a small smile reached his lips; it had been a long time since he’d considered anyone new to be a friend.

[donedyke]

finding the nuance in things is often very difficult. psychiatric meds, therapy, and the use of them within the system of capitalist society are something that requires a nuanced perspective that i think people on this website often fall into a maladaptive rejection of entirely.

on the one hand, our society pushes a prescribed, pathologized, essentialist notion of psychiatric medicine, i.e. you are mentally sick so you require medicine to make you not mentally sick. people on tumblr often completely reject this idea to opt for the more systemic, overarching view that psychiatry and psychiatric meds in general are tools of an oppressive regime to silence dissidence and sedate people who are too rebellious within the "normal" bounds of behavior in our capitalist society.

i think the truth lies somewhere in the middle, and what has helped me immensely is recognizing that psychiatric meds and therapy are tools. tools are meant to be used to get us a desired result. a tool can be imperfect. a tool can be designed to do one thing and not another. something that kept me from psychiatry and therapy for a long time is knowing that both are tools of capital to reform maladjusted individuals and make them more capable of performing under wage slavery; but something that is also true is my neuroses are negatively impacting my ability to get involved with my community and form healthy interpersonal relationships.

retraining myself to view psychiatry and therapy as tools that will enable me to fight capital instead of enable it has aided me in seeking to improve my mental health for the sake of communism and not the individualistic self-improvement bullshit that i reject. i must be very careful about what i choose to share with my therapist because possessing certain political views can get you institutionalized as a psychotic or irrational human being, instead of a person recognizing how our society is structured from a materialist perspective and developing coping methods to deal with that reality. if you are class conscious, you are constantly being gaslit from every institution of authority in america. this can cause symptoms of severe psychosis. so, again, i have to be careful, and i have to use therapy and psychiatry as tools that are designed to do a specific thing.

something that i thought i could never talk to other people about was dialectal materialism, but i found that i can talk about the things in society that bother me with other revolutionaries and i can talk about the things that i experienced as childhood trauma with professionals trained in dealing with those things. i am still trying to find the intersection of that, of a communist therapist who doesn't necessarily call themselves a communist therapist because if they did they likely wouldn't be allowed to practice. anyway, i hope i have communicated what i'm trying to communicate well. i hope this helps other people because i know, for me, i didn't seek therapy for a long time because i was always frustrated at the ignorance of my medical professionals any time i tried to talk about the societal injustices that make me so depressed, and so my childhood trauma and abuse went unresolved because i literally had no one to talk to.