#op is fine just plagued with the ability to remember

[sincerelystesichorus]

long form vent poem - scream.

scream.

cw: r*pe mentions, vague abuse discussions

we were in the mountains. driving home. talking about our future.

i want to open my own practice, i said.

i'll be your secretary, you had chimed.

and i had been surprised at the suggestion, you were getting your own degree, farther along than me, even, but i went along with it.

because it sounded nice. we'd put up little decorations around the office for the holidays and you'd lead, i'd follow. you'd be out in the waiting room, after all. and after days spent speaking and helping, we'd leave for our tucked away home, curled up in each other.

but the conversation didn't stop there. not knowing when to stop was always our major problem.

a summer love stretched out until it was sick, collapsing under weight it was never meant to support.

the radio is muffled.

we should watch this short film, i prompted.

which one?

this one. my favorite director made it before they got big.

oh. i've seen that one. it's not their usual style.

really? i asked. how so? i love their horror.

this one's more sad. your tone had flattened. we should stop talking about it.

i didn't know it was that bad, i knew it was about rape-

and then you screamed. over the radio and enough to fill the whole car cabin.

and we just looked at each other. you looked like a caged animal, eyes wide, like you had just snapped. i don't know what i looked like. i just know it put a weight in my chest. that sort of guilt only a mother could give.

i won't talk about it again. i said. i'm sorry.

and you were quiet. the car now drained, despite your presence previously swelling within it.

you were a victim too. but i wasn't a victim til you.

this was the first crack. the facade that was my future with you beginning to fade from my glazed over eyes.

we won't talk about it again. a verbal decision.

we won't have sex again. had been our silent compromise.

i wonder how much that movie hurt you. but i think it just reminded you of January.

that cold night where you became your worst nightmare and mine, and we both wondered where He was, in that supposed house of God.

the car was so quiet.

and we drove away from that conversation of a future filled with holding each other and holidays. and i started to realize i would be a rather silly doctor, hypocritical,

to hold onto holiday decorations and the idea of you.

to hold onto the idea that love was hurting myself for you. like it was a righteous trial to pass. that these calms in your storms were long worth the wait and that the punch of passion was good for me.

love's no panacea. it's not even a medicine. and we can both pray to every God that January night didn't happen. but i'm still the one you went against the grain for, your preacher's daughter sin and now hellfire crawls up my back and around my thighs. the virgin you didn't let live until the end.

i still love scary movies.

i just never thought your love would be more frightening.

[shirorinyuaaru]

A Soldier’s Countenance

Chapter 1 - Silence

I decided to post my LevixReader fic on tumblr from AO3 since I know a lot of people like to read fics here too! If you decide you want to read it on the AO3 platform my username is Shirorinyuaru :)

—

There is something to be said about the deafening silence following death. More than the stench, the morbid visuals, and the stomach-churning fear — There is silence. For Levi, seeing his squad absolutely decimated by the Female Titan was only made that much more difficult by the soundless forest and the painful thrum of his heart as it fought to escape his chest. Petra, Oluo, Eld, Gunther - All casualties of a failed mission and, by Levi’s standards, all pointless deaths. He wasn’t quite sure what hurt him more; was it knowing that it was bound to happen eventually, or the fact that he had been unable to bring their bodies home to their families? For those left behind, there was nothing. The thought made even Humanity’s Strongest Soldier sick.

The day his original Special Ops squad was lost, a part of him went with them. While Levi often kept his emotions tightly locked away in a bottle behind the wall that he had built following the deaths of Farlan and Isabel, he was not heartless. His team - while he would not outwardly admit it - was his family.

He had already lost too many members of his family.

So when you and the other members of the 104th Cadet Corps were brought even deeper into the fold of the Survey Corps, he found himself conflicted. He knew that the war to save humanity was a necessary one. He knew that soldiers died and had to be replaced - he had seen it done for years. However, this time he couldn’t quite quash the emotional turmoil that came with seeing your bright, determined eyes in training, ready for the inevitable trauma to come.

—

When had it started? You often found yourself in Captain Levi’s office at the behest of Commander Erwin, who sent you to aid Levi with his overwhelming load of paperwork and his abhorrent sleeping patterns (if you could even call them that). The arrangement had begun shortly before the expedition to capture the Female Titan. Captain Levi was, unsurprisingly, less-than-enthused with the idea of some new brat from the 104th Cadet Corps suddenly becoming his “personal assistant” - At least, that was what Erwin had insisted he refer to you as. A command coming directly from Erwin could not be ignored, and Levi was well aware of it. So instead of throwing you out on your ass the moment you first walked through the door, he simply replied with an annoyed “tch,” and returned his attention to the overdue paperwork making a mess of his desk.

For the first few days, you simply observed his pre-existing workflow. The blissful quiet and lack of interruptions were music to Levi’s ears, so he let you be. Meanwhile, you diligently memorized when he was most productive in his administrative duties, when and how he took his tea, when the best times to clean up were, and when you should leave him alone. Frankly, your Captain was terrible at remembering to take care of himself - he was so busy taking care of his duties to the Corps. With the information you had surmised, you devised a plan that you were unsure would even work on notoriously stubborn Levi Ackerman. Regardless, you had been given a task by Commander Erwin that you were compelled to complete.

—

1 Week to Expedition

It was uncharacteristically cold out. Rain battered the windows of Levi’s office and the howling wind proved an irritating distraction from the work in front of him. Nevermind that he had to light a fire in the fireplace to keep the damn room warm. Dirt. Dust. Grime. Just the thought of how utterly filthy the room was going to be because of the fucking fire roaring in the fireplace made him shudder.

Well, he mused, I can at least keep Cadet l/n busy with deep cleaning the office. It should keep her out of my hair.

As if on cue, three successive raps on his door pulled him from his reverie. He lifted his head slowly, his piercing grey eyes narrowing on the doorframe. “Name and business,” Levi demanded in his characteristic, monotone drawl.

“Cadet l/n, Captain Levi. I’m reporting for my daily duties. May I enter?” You responded, slightly muffled by the thick oak door and howling of the wind.

“Proceed.” Levi did not wait for you to come in before returning to his paperwork.

He was about to order you to begin cleaning when he picked up on the familiar scent of black tea wafting into the room. Before he could raise his eyes to find the source, he caught sight of a delicate hand placing a cup of steaming liquid on the left side of his workspace. Wordlessly, he looked up toward you with an eyebrow quirked in question.

“It’s not poisoned, Captain. It’s just Earl Grey,” you said, slightly amused by the suspicion Levi was communicating in his expression.

“Yes, but why?”

“Because this is when you normally start craving another cup, and it’s freezing out.”

A pregnant pause filled the room as Levi tried to process what your words meant. She’s more observant than I thought. That could be dangerous.

With an air of hesitation, he picked up the cup and brought it to his lips. The intoxicating scent of bergamot filled his senses as he took a sip. Perfectly prepared. Not many people know how to make a good fucking cup of tea around here. He was impressed, but he wasn’t about to let you know it.

“Not bad, Cadet. At least you can make a half-way decent cup of tea.” Levi uttered, returning to his work. “Maybe now you could make yourself useful and -”

You already knew what he planned to assign you, so you bravely (or stupidly, you weren’t sure just yet) cut him off and save both parties some time.

“Clean the dust and grime building up from the fire? I was already planning on it.” Without another word, you turned to get the cleaning supplies you needed and went to work.

Captain Levi was dumbstruck by the forwardness you had exhibited. If it had been anyone else, he would have given them stable duty for a month. For some reason though, he couldn’t bring himself to be anything but impressed by your ability to take charge. Attractive , Levi mused - not that the closed-off soldier considered acting on such frivolous thoughts. A distraction; that’s all ‘romance’ was.

Unlike the last three days that you had simply sat watching Captain Levi, you were now fully engaged in the tasks set before you by Commander Erwin. It came as a surprise to the normally nonplussed man; you were entirely in tune with his schedule and complimented it with such grace and simplicity that it was as if you were another him. Frankly, it made his work much easier and he was grateful for it.

—

4 Days till Expedition

You could tell Captain Levi was in a mood when he unceremoniously flung the door of his office open, strode to his desk, and practically collapsed into his chair. Instead of asking him about his morning like you were in the habit of doing, you returned to the task of dusting off the shelves closest to the fireplace. The Captain had been dissatisfied with the original job you had done following the day he had to use the blasted fireplace to make sure his ass didn’t freeze off.

Levi was in a mood. Erwin briefed him on the upcoming expedition and plan to capture the Female Titan whom they suspected of having infiltrated the military in some way. He had complete trust in Erwin - he knew the Commander had a reason for hiding the true goal of the expedition from everyone but a select, trusted few. They had a rat - a fucking disgusting rat that needed to be taken care of quickly to ensure the longevity of the Survey Corps.

Before he could dig himself deeper into the negative feedback loop that plagued his mind, you knew you had to intervene. Levi was already a grumpy and insufferable man on a good day; you didn’t want to even broach the idea of what he could be like on a bad day. You already warmed the kettle in preparation for his return and made a blend of chamomile, peppermint, and spearmint to relieve the tension afflicting your superior. Whether willing to admit it or not, you genuinely cared for his well-being - not just because Commander Erwin had assigned you to see to it. It was then you began to wonder when you had started to feel this way.

Quietly, so not to disturb Levi just yet, you made your way over to his desk and gingerly set down his tea. “Careful,” you murmured, turning the handle toward him even though you knew he wouldn’t use it, “it’s a bit hot still, but it should provide you some relief.”

Levi inhaled deeply and carded his fingers through his hair, pushing it away from his face. As he lifted his head, steel-grey eyes met gentle e/c ones and he felt his heart squeeze. You weren’t one to hide behind a wall - Everything you felt and thought was out in the open. Levi admired that about you.

“Thanks.” He murmured before taking a careful sip of the tea. He allowed the fragrance and the comfort of the warm liquid to envelop him. You watched on as his eyes fluttered shut for a moment and found yourself unable to look away. He’s so beautiful. You mused before quietly chastising yourself. That’s your captain. Your superior. Nothing more, nothing less.

You made a move to walk away when a warm hand curled around your wrist, gently stopping you. “Captain?” You called, bemused by the sudden physical contact.

Levi wasn’t entirely sure why he had reached for you at that moment, and he wasn’t entirely sure what to say that could make it less awkward. Instead, he cleared his throat and let go of your wrist. “Nothing, sorry. Thanks for the tea, Brat.”

You smiled to yourself and turned to glance back at him, your h/c hair gently swaying with your turn. “You’re welcome, Captain.”

—

2 Days til Expedition

“Levi,” his monotone voice rang out in the otherwise silent office.

“I’m sorry?” You replied, bemused.

“Drop the honorifics when we’re alone. Levi is just fine.” He muttered, furiously scribbling on a report Erwin had requested be given to him that evening, two fucking weeks before schedule might he add.

“Alright Ca— er — Levi.” You responded dubiously. It was difficult to know what the Captain was thinking, especially when his inscrutable countenance gave so little away.

You knew his personality, his outward presentation, was one that served as a defense much like that of Wall Sina. It protected him in the deepest sense, and you could understand why. What you couldn’t wrap your head around was why he - consciously or not - was letting you behind his walls. It took everything inside of you to not lend that fact to hope for the future.

You are a soldier. You are dedicated to your duty to protect humanity. The Captain is the same and that is exactly how things will remain. This was a thought you had to constantly drill into yourself. It was the only way to keep your blossoming feelings at bay.

Levi wouldn’t admit the way his heart skipped a beat when you said his name. In fact, he refused to acknowledge it entirely. Any feelings he may have towards you - any inkling of admiration, of affection - he would shove them deep within himself just as he had done with everyone and everything else.

“Brat - Don’t you have training to get to? You’re about to go out of the walls for the first time. I’d consider getting extra training time in. Don’t want you to shit your pants the first time you see a titan.” Levi grumbled. I also don’t want you to die - you need to make it back.

“Alright, Cap— Levi. I’ll see you tomorrow. Please make sure to get to bed at a reasonable time. And no more black tea! Stick to camomile. Commander Erwin is going to kill me if I can’t get your sleeping schedule in check.” You called after him before dashing out the door. It seems you were more serious and devoted to your training than he had originally thought.

Though it was hard to ignore the emptiness encompassing his study in your absence. Regardless, he persisted.

—

The days leading up to the expedition were hectic. The formation was changed repeatedly before finally being nailed down, the superior officers were more tense than usual, and the new cadets were practically shaking the entire barracks with their anticipation. Y/N continued her assistant duties to Levi as much as she could, but he was often in meetings or away from the office. Furthermore, he had demanded that she take more time to prepare for what was to come.

—

Expedition Day

“Brat - You’re riding with my Squad.” The way he said it left no room for argument.

“But the Commander has me placed with Mike’s squad. Why the sudden change?” You inquired, eyebrows raised. Something didn’t seem right about this sudden transfer and you wondered if it had to do with an actual need to change the formation or more with the personal concerns of Captain Levi.

“Did I say you could ask questions? Just follow orders.” Levi snapped before grabbing the reins of your horse and guiding yours right next to his. “Stay close, listen to my commands, and don’t get killed. I need another person on my squad to guard Eren.” He certainly hoped that explanation would keep you from asking more questions. I can’t even admit the reason I need you on my squad to myself, how the fuck do you think I could tell you?

“Yes, Captain” was the only response you gave before taking your place in his squad’s formation.

At first, the plans Commander Erwin had set out seemed to be going off without a hitch. Titans were being spotted on the outer edges of the formation, but they were dealt with swiftly by capable soldiers. While the current situation put you somewhat at ease, you resolved to remain alert and aware of your respondings. After all, you had to prepare yourself for the worst.

What you didn’t realize was that the worst was coming at you at an inhumanly fast rate.

Flares from the right flank shot off in what seemed like rapid succession. While that may not have been unusual, the color turned your blood cold.

Black.

“Shit,” Levi hissed, “The right flank has been compromised.”

Trying to remain calm, you surveyed your surroundings. “Your orders, Captain?”

“Eren, fire a black flare” came the response.

“R-Right!” Eren replied, fumbling for his flare gun. It took him a moment, but the flare was sent up without a hitch.

It was soon after that a messenger came to report the Female Titan was headed for the center where Levi’s squad was positioned. In response, he sent Petra to forward the message to their left. “Come back immediately after sending it along!” Levi roared over the galloping of the horses.

“Yes, Captain!” was her swift reply as she shot to the left on her horse. She had always been a demon on horseback - quick, balanced, skilled.

You monitored the situation and noticed that Levi was acting off - he was staring straight ahead. “Captain, shouldn’t we be more aware of our surroundings?” You called, hoping to get him to come to his senses.

“Shut up and follow me, Cadet.” He said evenly, his eyes hardening. “We follow where the flares tell us to go and that’s the end of it.”

Silence overtook the group as each member of the Special Ops squad tried to remain calm as they were led into the thick trees of a forest.

“Captain! We’re being separated from the rest of the formation!” came Eren’s frantic protest.

There was no response from Levi.

“Captain what about the others?!” He tried again, becoming increasingly agitated with each step deeper into the forest.

“Eren, trust in the Captain. Trust in us.” Petra replied in a soothing, but firm tone. “Look ahead. Keep riding.”

“But -”

“Trust us.”

The reassurance didn’t last long. A loud roar shook the trees around the squad and the ground trembled with each step of a titan flying towards them at inhuman speeds. You noticed as several corps members flung themselves from the surrounding trees to intercept the Female Titan, but it was all for naught. Not only was she unphased, she tossed them aside like fodder and crushed them under her. What horrified you the most was her knowledge of the ODM gear that your comrades were using. She used it against them, grabbing for the wires and using their momentum to crush their bodies against the nearby trees. Swallowing thickly, you turned away and picked up the pace.

“Captain, your orders!” Petra called, well aware that the situation was dire.

Deafening silence was the only response.

“CAPTAIN!” Petra pleaded, her eyes boring into the back of his head.

“Petra he isn’t telling us something for a reason! Just follow him - He won’t lead us astray!” You yelled, heart squeezing painfully. Your faith, your life, it was all in Levi’s hands.

You knew he wouldn’t let the flame die.

Eren, however, did not have the faith that the rest of the squad had in Levi. In fact, he was astonished that you would show such dedication to him when right behind you, your comrades were being slaughtered in an attempt to defend him . To defend the squad protecting him. His eyes clouded with confliction before becoming resolute. He lifted his hand to his mouth, prepared to take on the Female Titan himself. He would not let more of his friends die trying to protect him.

“Eren, please! Don’t do it! Captain left that to you as a last resort - we promise we will get through this safely.” Petra’s voice rang through the squad’s formation. The desperation and pain in her words were not lost.

Once again Eren was in conflict.

Before you could open your mouth to say something, Levi stopped you.

“If you want to do it, I won’t stop you.” came his solemn reply. “I don’t pretend to know the right answer to everything. Make the choice that you feel you won’t regret.”

Once again you felt your chest tighten, unsure if it was from the anxiety brought by the situation or by the muted self-disgust behind Levi’s words. You couldn’t look at Eren. You couldn’t look at anyone. Instead, you stared straight ahead, focusing your thoughts on completing the assignment set before you.

Eren let out a yell of frustration before returning both hands to the reigns of his horse and relief flooded the squad.

“We’re almost there.” Levi murmured, mostly to himself. “Just a little longer.”

His words were like a prayer - one that you also sent into the world.

—

Before long, you ran across a mass of soldiers on each side of the road with large contraptions at the ready. While you were unsure of their purpose, you caught a glimpse of Hange’s determined face in the trees. Whatever they were, you knew they could be deadly.

The Female Titan was close by as Levi’s squad passed the traps, and once you were safely out of range you heard Hange’s order ring clearly through the forest.

“FIRE.”

The sound of traps being sprung, skin and muscle being torn apart, and yells of anguish reached your ears. You whipped your head around furiously and found that the Female Titan had been pierced by what looked like steel spikes connected to sturdy, metal ropes.

Eren had been bait. You wanted to vomit.

—

Levi had unceremoniously left you all in the command of Eld before returning to assist with the capture of the Female Titan.

“Tie up the horses somewhere safe, rest, and wait for my signal.” Were his only words before flying through the trees.

The rest was more than welcome, but the reality of what had occurred was now heavy on the shoulders of all of you. Your throat felt thick and swallowing did nothing to relieve the discomfort. Eren had been bait. The entire squad was used to capture that abnormal and in the process, you all could have died.

But you didn’t.

Petra, Eld, Oluo, Gunther, Eren, and you all discussed the revelation in depth. While hurt that you had not been told the specifics of the operation, you each realized that it was probably for the best. There was most likely a spy among the Survey Corps, and this was the best way to ensure the expedition succeeded. Now that the Female Titan was in custody, the Survey Corps could learn far more about what Titans were and how they functioned.

After what seemed like an eternity, Petra noticed a flare being shot off.

“Must be Captain Levi’s signal to meet. Let’s go.” Oluo grunted before mounting his horse.

—

You rode in relative silence, all grateful that the hard part was over and you could return to the safety behind Wall Rose.

You really shouldn’t have counted yourselves safe before the gates closed behind you. It was Gunther who noticed a suspicious individual soaring through the trees above you all, donning the Survey Corps uniform.

“That’s them! That has to be the damn snitch!” Gunther yelled before taking off after them in his ODM gear.

“Gunther wait!” Petra yelled.

“Dammit Gunther don’t go off on your own!” came Eld’s strict reply.

Before anyone knew what had happened, it was too late. Gunther was dead, hanging limply by his gear lines that were still attached to the tree.

You were being targeted.

—

Eren had been told to save himself. You were supposed to make sure he stayed safe. Petra, Eld, and Oluo stayed behind to defend against the Female Titan who had once again appeared. The operation had failed; you were paying for it with your lives.

Seeing the merciless slaughter of the team you had grown close with over the past month set a fire within you. Your blood boiled, your skin burned, and a deafening snarl tore from your throat.

“EREN GET TO SAFETY!” You commanded before taking off towards the titan.

“Y/N NO!” Eren screamed.

You shot through the trees at lightning speed, eyes filled with murderous rage. Petra. Oluo. Eld. Gunther. You would not let their deaths go unresolved. You would get revenge. You launched yourself at the Female Titan’s nape, retracting your ODM gear so that it could not be used against you. Another scream tore through your throat as you drew your blades, determined to shred the bitch until nothing remained.

The Female Titan was aware of your oncoming attack - not that you had done much to hide it. The stealth that you were once known for in your graduating class had been thrown to the wind along with your caution. You weren’t sure why you had allowed your emotions to overcome you, but you knew there was no turning back. Odds were you would suffer the same fate as your friends.

Well, that was better than the survivor’s guilt anyway.

Time seemed to slow as the titan turned her attention to you, reaching up to swipe you into oblivion. Regardless, you pressed on. With a silent apology to Levi, whom you’d grown close to, you positioned your blades for his signature move in unconscious homage to Humanity’s Greatest Soldier. You would not go down without a fight. However, before you could land a blow, you felt yourself being knocked to the side. The Female Titan was now out of view.

At first, you thought she had simply attacked you first, but you became intensely aware of strong arms enveloping you as you flew through the forest. The next thing you heard was an inhuman roar.

Eren had transformed.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” Hissed your savior, grey eyes cast ahead. A storm was brewing within them, but he refused to let it roar uncontained. Not in the middle of a life-or-death battle.

Your Captain had come for you, and your protests died in your throat. “Petra…Oluo…They all-” was the weak response you provided.

“They fulfilled their duties as soldiers. You, however, surrendered to your emotion and almost threw away your life.” Snarled Levi.

Silence was all that followed. Deafening. You had no rebuttal.

“We’ll continue this in my office after we get back, Cadet.”

—

Having to throw your friends’ bodies from the cart as you made your getaway with the surviving members of the Corps only added salt to the wound. While others fought the order originally, you found yourself with a stone in your stomach and a lump in your throat.

For Levi, it was the same.

With one last look at the people you had come to love as family, you sent them off to the vast unknown, wishing you could follow.

—

Watching Levi listen to the proud declarations of Petra’s father was absolute torture. His body was slumped in defeat, his raven hair covering his eyes. Without a word you jumped from your cart and went to Petra’s family to break the news. Your hand took his wrist as Levi rode away and with a deep breath and a resolute stare, you broke the news.

“Petra Ral was a brave soldier who lost her life in the line of duty. Her ultimate sacrifice for the sake of humanity will not be forgotten - It will live on in me and the rest of the Survey Corps. I’m sorry for your loss, but I hope knowing she remains within us all is of some comfort to you.”

You weren’t sure what hurt you more: the hopelessness in his eyes, or the sound of the dirt giving way as the poor man fell to his knees.

It took everything you had not to cry.

—

Levi’s Office 2100 hours.

“Do you plan to defend yourself, Cadet?”

“No, Captain. I have no defense.”

The familiarity that Levi had shared with you was absent. A somber, tense atmosphere replaced it. After everything you had lost that day, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to care.

“You went out there, blades at the ready, with the plan to die .” He began, struggling to keep his tone even. “Your poor excuse for revenge is a pretty fucking thin veil for your intention to give up. Remind me, did I train you that way?”

“No, Captain.” You uttered, e/c eyes cast downward. Your throat was raw from your earlier outburst, and all you could manage was a quiet, hoarse voice.

Levi’s patience was quickly wearing thin. He wasn’t sure what he wanted from you, but this wasn’t it. Your lack of fight was unnerving, your usual fire stamped out.

A loud slam reverberated in the room and you jumped. Levi appeared directly in front of you, as if out of thin air. He grabbed your chin between his thumb and forefinger and forced you to look at him. “Is ‘No, Captain’ the only response I’m going to get from you all night, f/n?” A snarl ripped from his throat, the storm in his chest beginning to overwhelm him.

You swallowed thickly, locking your gaze on his. “What would you have of me, Captain? I have no excuse. I have no reason. I lost my composure in the heat of battle and resounded to die. Is that what you want to hear? That I gave up? That I watched the people closest to me get slaughtered and felt I couldn’t go on?” The volume of your voice increased with every sentence you spoke. You ignored the burning in the back of your throat and the scratching that came with every syllable. Not only were you ashamed of your actions during the expedition, but you were also frustrated that Levi would not leave you alone.

“I lost my Squad, f/n! You don’t see me giving in to despair.”

“I lost my friends - my family!” You yelled, surprised by your own insubordination.

Once again the somber melody of silence fell between you both.

The conflict in his steel-grey eyes was palpable. Levi’s heart was hammering in his chest. His breaths were being pointedly controlled.

You expected him to hit you, kick you, throw you out. You expected him to respond in the same way he did with any other misbehaving cadet, but he didn’t. He just…stared at you, trying to figure out what to say.

“Then you know why I don’t want to lose you too.” Came his eventual reply. He did not allow you time to respond. “Dismissed, Cadet. I want you in my office at 0900 hours tomorrow. This office is filthy and the floors need to be scrubbed.” Levi reluctantly pulled away, turning his back to you.

He couldn’t handle any more tonight.

You took a deep breath and turned on your heel, making your way to the door. The familiar texture of the handle beneath you was grounding.

“I don’t want to lose you either, Levi.” And with that, you were gone.

You weren’t sure where this left you both, but it didn’t matter. Morning was just around the bend.

[cruddyborderlandstheories]

so i’d really like to finish my guardian takedown lore analysis, but honestly the game isn’t really fun to play at the moment anymore (even with the health debuffs they added) so I think im going to be taking a break for now because I’m just not having fun anymore.

this game has a lotta mechanical problems i think need to be addressed so im gonna summarize it as bullet points below. I’ll play the new dlc when it drops, but idk if i’ll be on more than that (grinding, end-game stuff) until they make some serious changes. I’ve been playing (near) daily since launch, followed the patch/hotfix notes every single week, and my patience has finally, FINALLY run dry, especially with that really disappointing Phase 1 Patch and then the hotfix this week not adding anything else. What is the balancing team doing??? 😩

tl;dr: FIX THE VAULT HUNTERS!!!!

anyway. That’s all I needed to get outta my system. I might log on to this blog every now and again to post some random shit that pops into my head (probably with regards to my AU), but I’m not going to be actively playing and posting for the time being. Goodbye (for now), and here’s hoping the new DLC is good!! 

guardian takedown only problems:

there’s a lot of waiting around, and sometimes it’s not explicitly stated that you’re waiting for something, so you’ll be lost on what to do next (not sure if that’s a dialogue glitch or not)

the crystal charge insta-death is bull. just. what the hell. at least make it so you just have to start over. killing ur players for failing a “puzzle” that they then have to fight all the way back to is so infuriating.

dying because you fell off a platforming puzzle is also bull. 

i remember playing the first DMC on my playstation in middle school and having a conniption over the part in the observatory(? it’s been a hot minute since I played DMC 1) with the disappearing/invisible platforms. I h a t e jumping puzzles. why are they in a section of the game where death is semi-permanent and a detriment to your teammates. i tried the takedown 2x with friends and both times one friend didn’t make the first big jump to the temple and had to wait for our inevitable deaths. that’s so unfair to them.

there’s absolutely no reason for a boss to have 12 fuckin immunity phases. 4 per health bar with 3 health bars? Who the fuck designed this? *pumps shotgun* i just wanna talk. 

i appreciate a tasteful immunity phase every now and again (the ones in the Valkyrie fight are actually p reasonable), but christ. that is overkill. I don’t mind the main boss fight, since u can end those early through certain actions, but jesus. the mid-boss fight is annoying as hell. you spend more time running from the immunity phases and finding the damn boss than u do actually shooting it.

drop rates are crap, which I guess should be expected given what happened with the Maliwan Takedown and the handful of months it took for them to fix that, but also you think they’d have learned.

in the maliwan takedown there’s a sense of progression thru the facility after you kill each area’s batch of enemies, but in this one it’s... dampened by the crystal charging sequences. you kill all the enemies in an area, press a button, and now you have to kill 3x that number of enemies in the same area, expect you’re just standing there motionless. It’s not fun.

the crystal charging stuff is just not fun in general. standing in a square is not entertaining. it’s worse that it was clearly designed for 3+ players when a majority of people play/grind solo

i gotta admit the boss fights just aren’t as fun as the Maliwan Takedown fights overall. I felt like a real badass fighting Wotan for the first time, but the main boss for this Takedown is kind of a bitch. Wotan’s fight is chaos, there’s so much shit happening at once and you don’t really have time to process everything and I love it. This one is p meh...

This would be fine and I’d 100% not care that much if there weren’t all these OTHER problems

General Issues with the Game

There’s no endgame stuff to play outside of the takedowns. 

I assume they’re working on the first raid given some stuff I found in the Guardian Takedown files, but I really wish they’d keep the seasonal events/areas. They give us the option to disable/enable them while they’re ‘active’, just give us the ability to do it whenever we want.

when i hop on i either run through Athenas (my favorite map), or farm a boss or two. I have all the loot i really need from the maliwan takedown/elsewhere, and the guardian takedown just... isn’t fun atm, so i have nothing to do.

I’ve reset my playthru multiple times to play the main story at m10, but u can only play it (and the dlc) so many times

Mayhem levels and modifiers are a hot m e s s

a majority of the modifiers just aren’t fun to play with

they incorporated like 2-3 fun modifiers (from the community), then added a bunch that straight-up aren’t. I’m fine with the game being more difficult, but at least give us modifiers that make it more entertaining to play at a higher level instead of more annoying. I like the ones that have trade-offs or add new ‘enemies’, but I hate the ones that just straight up reduce your damage output.

a majority of the weapons with the mayhem 10 anointment (scaling) do not work on mayhem 10 (we’ll go more in-depth with this later)

Player Characters (Vault Hunters!!!) are also a hot mess and a lot of problems plaguing them haven’t been fixed SINCE LAUNCH

theyre literally the basis of the game and its balance. why havent you guys fixed them yet. stop adding new content until they’re fixed. no new skill trees until the base 3 trees work ON EVERY CHARACTER.

seriously. Why is amara p much limited to using Phasegrasp. Why does Iron Bear not matter to Moze except to proc anointments. MAKE ALL ACTION SKILLS EQUAL AND HAVE HEFT.

i wrote an essay here about it bc i feel that strongly about this

SERIOUSLY FIXING UR VAULT HUNTERS WILL MAKE BALANCING SO MUCH EASIER PLEASE IM BEGGING YOU THEY ARE THE BASE OF UR BALANCING WOES

ZANE IS STILL UNUSABLE WITHOUT THE SEEIN’ DEAD CLASS MOD!!!!!!!!!!!

MOZE IS SCREWED BC HER DAMAGE IS TOO RELIANT ON ASE ANOINTMENTS!!

AMARA DOESN’T HAVE A FUCKING MELEE BUILD AS THE ADVERTISED MELEE CHARACTER???

FL4K’S HEADCOUNT SKILL IS S T I L L BROKEN EVER SINCE THE RELEASE OF THE MALIWAN TAKEDOWN

ARE YOU GUYS LISTENING TO THE COMMUNITY *PLEASEEEEEEE*

BUFF AND FIX THE GODDAMN VAULT HUNTERS

Anointments were a mistake. Damage end-game is wayyyy too reliant on them

anoints should have a maximum of, like, a 20% damage bonus. the damage necessary to kill enemies *should be coming from the VHs themselves*. i don’t care if you have to revamp every single Vault Hunter’s skill trees and buff them all by 9000%. THEY DESERVE IT AT THIS POINT

at the moment in m10 there really isn’t much build diversity *even between Vault Hunters*. We’re all using the same 5 guns (OPQ System. Kaoson. idk. fuckin brainstormer? is that still a thing? jesus fuck) with the same 3 anointments (100% on ASE, cryo while SNTL, and 300% while 90%).

you want to diversify builds like you said during the gameplay reveal???? you want our choice in Vault Hunter to actually fuckin matter???? FIX THEM!!!! THEY SHOULD BE ABLE TO DEAL DAMAGE WITHOUT STUPID POWERFUL LEGENDARIES AND ANOINTMENTS!!!

Anoints also shouldn’t be common. At all. They should be, like, Pearl rarity. To let that happen, their damage needs to be tuned way the fuck down (again, 20ish % bonus MAX) and ALL ANOINTS NEED TO BE USEFUL IN SOME WAY

NOBODY IS GOING TO USE THE AIRBORNE OR SLIDING ANOINTMENTS JUST REMOVE THEM ALREADY AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

obviously these changes can’t happen because they fucked up and buckled down with everything being anointed in m10, but still

imagine a world where the VHs actually did damage on their own without anointments and the damage buff from them was just an incentive to grind for the 100% perfect weapon and NOT A REQUIREMENT TO DEAL DAMAGE

>:(

A majority of gear is borderline worthless at M10

I’m fine with the difficulty of M10, i should let it be known. The enemy health isn’t really the problem IF ALL GUNS ACTED THE SAME AS THE OPQ SYSTEM

ffs.

you know, if you fixed ur vault hunters so they all did damage with just purple weapons (abt the same damage as legendaries w/o special effects) and removed the anointment requirement from late-game play, balancing your guns would be sooo much easier. you know. just saying.

right now only 10% (im being generous) of guns in the game are viable. 90% are worthless. We need AT LEAST 60-70% viable at M10. WHERE IS MY BUILD DIVERSITY. WHY ARE ALL LEGENDARIES NOW JUST “HEY THIS GUN IS STRONGER THAN THE LAST 4 WE RELEASED. HAVE FUN”

how to fix this problem? do as above: BUFF YOUR PLAYER CHARACTERS. MAKE ANOINTMENTS LESS STRONG.

then, at least the 10% already strong weapons would be stupid strong and OP as fuck, BUT AT LEAST WE COULD HAVE BUILD VARIETY!!! I don’t care if other people are dummy strong one-shotting everything in sight. I don’t! so long as they don’t play with me, I couldn’t care less!!! I want to be able to play with the unique, interesting legendaries. instead of the OPQ System. which, by the way, I dislike compared to the normal Q-System. let me use the frozen heart shield and the infiltrator mod. I don’t wanna be chained to the Seein’ Dead anymore :(

honestly at this point im starting to think removing slag was a mistake bc then at least we could use guns that aren’t solely damage-based guns. you know how fucked up you’ve got me that im thinking maybe slag wouldn’t be so bad this time around??? YOU GOT ME FUCKED UP B A D.

FIX THE GAME

IM TAKING A BREAK

MAYBE I’LL BE LESS UPSET WHEN I COME BACK FOR THE DLC BUT HOT. DIGGITY. SHIT.

[crescentmoonhills]

A Death’s Life

Ch. 1

23rd of Blood Moon, 768 Lunaris year.

In the ashen desert of the northern eclipse continent in front of two hundred thousand army, a single beautiful lass is standing straight holding a shining sword. The wind blows against her sleek silver hair making it flow beautifully as if the world itself is trying to emphasize her exquisiteness even more. Her body covered in shining white adamant plate armor stood firm against the ground unwavering, unswerving, and unyielding. There the hero, Elena von Dämmerwacht gallantly points her sword forward.

A sword. That’s right, a sword. An elegant double edged sword that looked so beautiful it was as if the day and the night itself resides in its body. A sword that is known all across the eclipse continent for its ability to cut a colossal dragon’s scale as if a hot knife through butter.

The Equinox.

Long ago the humans were plagued by the endless wars against demons and their evil gods. The helpless and powerless humans were trampled and treated as livestock to the demons. In their grieves, they plead to their gods for a salvation.

The gods, Sol and Luna, pitied them and lend the humans a part of their souls in the form of a sword. A sword that could cut even the gods themselves. A sword made in the sole purpose to confer judgement to the gods who had defected from the Astral council. And only those of purest heart could wield it.

And that legendary sword of judgement is pointing towards a tall and slender man riding on top of an ashen horse.

A man wearing a giant white wolf pelt over his shoulders which size clearly disproportional to his body. A great black horn sprouting from the left side of his forehead signifies that he is anything but human. His left arm looks as much as the night skies itself rather than an arm. His tiny face half covered by the wolf pelt looks like nothing but a young child. With only his clear and deep blue eyes visible on his pallid face. The blue eyes that seemed to penetrate the soul itself which is peeking through his unkept pitch black hair looks troubled for some reason.

That man is none other than me.

*time freeze sfx*

That’s right. It’s me. You must be wondering how I got here. Well it all started in summer 19- Psych! You thought I was going to use the overused comedic time freeze intro those western sitcoms and movies often used. Jokes on you, this isn’t western, nor it is a movie...

Sigh~ I should get a life for real.

Yeah, anyway, it might sounds cliched but I’m a reincarnated person. Yep, I died once in a planet called earth and now I reincarnated in another world. I already forgot my pasts for the most parts. It’s been like a couple million years since I’ve been reincarnated so no surprise right.

Oh yeah, I haven’t told you my name yet. I’m Death. Yeah, no kidding. I’m one of those so called evil gods the humans often prattle about. Not that I’ve done anything to them but, I am responsible for the deaths of a lot of people y’know. I am the god of death you know, I mean that’s like literally my job so you can’t blame that on me. But the humans sure thinks otherwise and they dubbed me as one of those evil gods.

So yeah, when a lot of people called you “evil god” it’s no surprise that a hero will come and try to cut your head off of you.

And one of those so called heroes is always some OP cheat people who preach about justice whenever they got the chance. Ironically they never even bothered to hear your opinion on the matter. So much for Justice amirite?

Hmm?

What was that? Oh, you think I’m scared of these heroes?

Nah, it’s just that...

Right, listen here. When you live for like a couple millions of years as an evil god, you’re bound to experience things like these like countless of times. It happens all the time y’know. And the most troublesome part is that they won’t stop. If you kill one another hero will pop out in the next decade or so. So it’s a really troublesome matter to me.

Why won’t they just leave me alone or something?

I’m just doing the task given to me by the council. Why won’t they understand. I mean if you wanted me to quit I would gladly do so. If you’re ok with a bunch of undeads going around on your garden or something then be my guest. I’m literally death. What did they expect when they tried to get rid of me.

Seriously this is ridiculous.

And this girl in front of me. Stop babbling will you. I’m so sick of this that I don’t even have the mood to listen to your lecture about justice and peace. God help us all. Wait, I am a god though. Sigh~

“— and for that purpose you have to pay for your sins and accept the divine judgement sent by the gods delivered with my own hands. May—“

“—the stars of Iustitia lead you to a righteous path in the afterlife.”

Elena’s eyes widened in shock as I said the exact same thing she wanted to say.

I don’t have any precog powers but y’know, the hero’s speech never changes for as long as I can remember it anyway.

“Wait— what?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, blah blah blah. I’m sick of hearing the same shit for every single decade. Can we just get this over with already?”

While she seemed confused at my statement she readily assumed her battle stance ready to fight any time.

“Wha— hmph, fine. If that’s what you want then I will gladly serve your judgement you fallen deity.”

“Yeah, you know what? Just tell me what you want and I’ll gladly do it. Just don’t bug me anymore, got that?”

She got even more confused as she realized that I was trying to parley with her instead of fighting her.

“What nonsense are you spouting about? You as the god of death should be dethroned from your kingdom of demons and should be eliminated. For as long as you live you will bring about more deaths to this world. Now that you’ve heard what us humanity wanted there’s no way you’ll agree—“

“Okay then, I agree.” I said boldly.

“Wha—!!” she froze in her place.

“I quit from my job as a god and as the ruler of the eclipse empire. Happy now?”

“You’re lying!! There’s no way you would just agree to that! And I’ve never heard of a god who quit his ‘job as a god’? That’s ridiculous!!!”

As I was getting annoyed by her constant protests I start grabbing my horn.

And I break it off my head.

“Whaaattttt!!!!!” screamed Elena, aaaand she fell to her knees.

“Damn it kinda hurts y’know. Well with this I am no longer the god of death. Now will you let me go?”

Horns signifies a god’s divinity and roles. It might sounds weird for gods to have horns but that’s how it works in this world. As the sun god Sol has four yellow horns, the moon goddess Luna has two grey horns. And I, the death god has a single black horns with red circles around it. Although I only have one horn it was quite a big one among the gods. But yeah it was nothing to brag about.

“You— You? Eh? What just? Why??!!!”

Aah, I seemed to have broken a young girl’s mind. Umm... not in a sexual way please. But hey, she’s the one who told me to quit and she’s the one who got confused. Women. I could never understand them.

“What? You just told me to quit, so I did. And now you’re confused?”

“But I didn’t thought that you would actually quit!! I mean a god quitting that’s just absurd!!”

Yeah, now that I think of it of course she gets confused. I mean anyone will get confused if a god just quit his ‘job’ in front of them. Oh well, after working for a couple millions of years it’s not that weird for someone to quit their job.

“Anyway, I just quit my job so what now? Are you going to let me go or you still planning on fighting me?”

“Hmph, even if you quit that still doesn’t change the fact that you killed countless of people before. And for that you shall be delivered judgement.”

Not going to back down, eh? Elena and the army behind her all puts themselves on guard.

“Sigh~ why won’t they just let me be? Like seriously.”

Elena’s purple clear eyes are focused at me fully intended on taking my life.

“Okay. Do as you wish but know this little girl. I am the god of death if you decided to fight against me...”

I stopped my words and sends a glare through my eyes for some dramatic effects. What? Don’t judge me, it makes threats more you know... threatening.

“A lot of people are going to die y’know.”

Crap, that was so uncool and anticlimactic. So much for dramatic effects, a child won’t even fell for it. Heck, they’ll cringe at it instead.

But then, the hero Elena, and the whole two hundred thousand knights trembled greatly in the spot. It was as if their souls are grasped by Death itself.

Well, they are facing me and I am Death so that’s a bad analogy anyway. But wow, can’t believe it worked.

“Guh— fine, we will return for now. As long as you don’t cause any trouble afterwards, we will not disturb you anymore.”

Ooh, seems like she realized that she and her army are in danger if they continue to antagonize me. Well I don’t want to kill anyone outside of my job so it’s a good thing for me too if they backed down.

“Dämmerritten! We shall return to the capital!”

And just like that they marched back. The lass seemed reluctant to leave me though. But then again, they let me be for once so be it.

Hmm, now that I’ve quit my job, I wonder what should I do?

Well there’s a lot of things I’d like to try out since I’ve came to this world but I’m practically aimless right now. And the other gods will probably hunt me now since I’ve quit my job without even noticing them. But yeah, so be it.

For now, let’s start with being an adventurer, yeah? Yeahh, that sounds fun.

Alright, off to the human world it is.

[doomedandstoned]

Closer to the End

Depression is my nemesis. Eventually it will kill me.

...if I let it.

By Billy Goate

Art by RusoTsig (@rusotsig)

Life's falling away from me. The visual evidence is all about. Unopened mail builds up at random spots around the room like mini Towers of Babel. Even things that normally give me great delight -- a recently delivered set of vinyl records -- lie undisturbed in their brown cardboard packages. Meanwhile, my email continues to multiply exponentially: 200 unanswered today, 400 tomorrow, 800 on the day after that (for the curious, the tally stands at 2,359 today). The very thought of opening my inbox makes it equivalent to walking out into open traffic, so I avoid it like the plague.

Meals have become simplified these days -- if it can't be eaten out of a package, forget about it. And all those empty wrappers? They, too, join the general disorder, decorating the landscape of my solitary hovel. Eventually, messages from friends and family go unread. Bills go unpaid (even when there are sufficient funds). The yard turns into a veritable jungle of tall grass, weeds, and sprawling bushes. Clothes go unwashed and hygiene is neglected for days at a time. Weekends are spent pouring over regrets about what might have been, brooding about the end of days.

As any doctor will confirm, these are classic symptoms of depression. What they can't tell you is how hopeless hopelessness can feel.

Karl Briullov - The Last Days of Pompeii (detail)

Black Sabbath’s final show in the Pacific Northwest. Usnea's album release party. Saint Vitus reunited with their first singer, Scott Reagers. The return of Sasquatch. Once in a lifetime small venue appearances by international bands, such as Cult of Occult. A rare hometown gig by Yob. Visits from Goya, Primitive Man, and countless others. Ceremony of Sludge. Even events with the Doomed & Stoned's own name stamped on them. All of these are things I've missed out on in the past year or two because of depression.

It's not that I was too down to even consider going. On the contrary, I was actively planning to go. I RSVP'd, bought tickets, and even checked out the camera equipment to film the shows. In most cases, I'd gotten dressed and readied, even told people to expect me, but for one reason or another I fell under the unyielding grip of depression and came up with an excuse for why I couldn't go. Then one day I just got tired of making excuses and stopped going out altogether.

In one case, I was halfway down the road on a two-hour trip to see Saint Vitus and Witch Mountain perform at Star Theater, when suddenly a wave of grief washed over me from head to spine. As soon as I spotted the nearest overpass, I exited, turned around, and returned home. Even shows I knew would be cathartic (Bell Witch playing their titular Mirror Reaper at a local watering hole) just couldn't cause me to drive a couple miles down the road. The few times I managed to go out, it was because I absolutely forced myself. I practically fought with my inner man all the way there, too -- teeth clenched, hands tightly gripping the wheel, rehearsing in my mind a myriad of reasons why I should just turn back and stay home.

For me, Alice in Chains captures the frustration perfectly in "Excuses":

Everyday it's something Hits me all so cold

Find me sittin' by myself No excuses, then I know

Depression has robbed me of so much. I've missed opportunities to collaborate with musicians and artists because of it. I've pushed away friends and family, until contact between us has become more and more scarce. I've even stopped celebrating my birthday. I have become a shadow of a man.

What's worse, there's been a new development: anhedonia. I remember only casually looking up the meaning of that word when reviewing Undersmile's album by the same name. Anhedonia basically means that you stop finding pleasure in life. As I browse through my friend's timelines, I find it difficult to relate to their happiness. I think quite often of the emptiness of it all, of being alone and growing older, and the ultimate futility of human pursuits. I often feel more of an observer than an actor in the great drama of life.

As you read all of this, bear in mind that I've managed to hold down a steady, full-time job for decades, right up to the present day. You see, some cope by drinking, others by eating, and others still chase the fleeting high of romantic love, but I found my copacetic in work (as absurd as that might sound). I’ve damn near worked myself to death over the past couple years, too, taking precious few "mental health days" or vacation. At one point, I stopped accruing paid time off, because I'd reached my limit and my boss had no choice but to mandate that I take two days off per month. Can you imagine? I’d been known to come into work on the weekend, rather than spend it alone with my thoughts. At least at work, I can stay distracted with something I feel makes some kind of difference.

I can't feel my life Makes me want to cry How bad i feel inside Like I wanna die

Destination unknown Wreckage in tow Depression grows I have no home

Lately, all I've wanted to do on the weekends is sleep. When I'm at work, I'm fine. I'm in the zone. I have purpose. Things make sense. I'm needed. When I'm home, I always have a list of to-dos, but no matter how busy I try to make myself, I find myself suffering with a lonely, aching feeling. It hurts to be alive. That's the only way I can describe it. So I go to sleep early -- and sleep and sleep and sleep -- without so much as the aid of melatonin. All I want to do is go to sleep and forget and wake up the next day and start fresh, hoping all of the oppressive feelings of darkness have left me. I'll sleep 9 hours, 10 hours, 12 hours is not unheard of, then curse when the alarm wakes me up to face the day. I haven't slept so much since I was a teenager.

At least some of my depression seems linked with sunlight. While the sun is out, I'm mostly okay. When I'm taking my meds, I feel possessed with purpose and I'm busy chipping away at a dozen assorted projects, networking with bands, record labels, and PR reps around the globe, auditing new records, editing submissions from my team, and occasionally summoning enough nerve to write an album review of my own. But when the sun sets and darkness takes hold, bathing the landscape in its sinister shadows, everything changes.

In the heart of winter, there is an existential dread that overtakes me when the sun sets. It's almost primitive. There seems to be no rational basis for feeling this way, unless we factor in some kind of code passed along in the evolutionary programming of the reptilian brain over the millennia. You know, that thing responsible for our fight or flight response -- the urge to either take a swing or get the hell out of Dodge.

Loneliness is not a phase Field of pain is where I graze

Saw my reflection and cried So little hope that I died

That cryptic note of horror hints at what happens when our coping mechanisms stop working for us. For me, it was burnout. I worked and worked and worked, and then I came home and did Doomed & Stoned in the evenings and weekends until I inevitably reached a point of absolute and total system overload.

We've seen a spate of deaths in recent years in the heavy music world stemming from depression. It seems to be the creative person's curse. Chris Cornell of Soundgarden. Linda Nygren of the Wounded Kings. Dozens more artist deaths are listed as "N/A" in Metal Archives, but you always wonder. Even an accidental drug overdose can owe its underlying cause to depression. Often it's hard to untangle addiction from the need to escape acute emotional pain.

Though it is tempting to buy into conspiracy theories linking suicide to pharmaceuticals, chemtrails, fluoride in the water, gangstalking, and covert government ops, it's important to recognize that suicide is nothing unique to our life and times. Narrowing the focus more specifically to musicians and other artistic types, we've had many historic instances of depression. Think Beethoven, Franz Liszt, and Tchaikovsky -- three people who pioneered much of the musical language that doom metal utilizes for expression. Each experienced prolonged periods of melancholia for various reasons, from physical malady and loss-fueled grief to unrequited love and the utter rejection of society. Arguably, Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky died at his own hand.

Perhaps it won't surprise you that many of us who have an affinity for doom metal (though certainly not all) are also at risk for suicide. A recently published study by the University of Manchester found a correlation, though not a causal link, between members of "alternative subcultures" and "the risk of self-harm and suicide." There was no definite conclusion drawn from the piece, other than to point out that a problem exists (no kidding) and that more long-term studies are needed.

I've got a notion as to why heavy music draws the heavy-laden: misery loves company. We're drawn to the mysteriously compelling ability that doom has to commiserate with our feelings, from lyrics that deal so honestly with sadness to the solace of sharing a joint with those who are on a similar path.

But sometimes depression is so severe that you don't want to go out on the weekends at all, not even for your favorite band. Before I get too deep into my own story and how I'm treating my depression, some of you may wonder why I am writing this piece and have decided to share it publicly. I can assure you, I have nothing to gain from this. I'm not crying out for help (I'm too stubborn to ask for it when needed, anyway) and I'm certainly not trying to sell you on anything.

To be truthful, I've been chipping away at this piece (currently standing at 53,726 characters) for two years. I revisit it when the depression hurts the most. It acts as a kind of release valve for me and since that's at least providing some relief, I'll keep scribbling words upon this page. So before you leave thinking this was all just a self-indulgent slab of depression porn, stay tuned. There really is more to the story, including some valuable insights I'm learning about dealing constructively with my depression and its underlying causes -- physical and psychological.

To be continued...

  ★ Read Part II

  ☆ Read Part III

Here I sit writing on the paper Trying to think of words you can't ignore

See the cycle I've waited for It ain't like that anymore

[bleedingcoffee42]

Eureka AU- Part 6

The obligatory hospital episode where we throw medical words around like commas and hope nobody questions them.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Roy sat down on the floor of their laundry room where Riza chose to set her military foot looker when she moved in.   It never was unpacked, it just remained here as a piece of furniture they set their clothes bins on.   It was one of the few pieces of décor she brought to this home, one utilitarian wooden box painted in olive drab that stuck out like a sore thumb against all his simplistic pieces.    He didn't realize until now that she really didn't have anything of her own, except for this.  

Sure there were clothes, but who looked to the closet for possessions to define a person?   He felt like he was opening a buried treasure chest, a look at the history of one 1st  Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye prior to her arrival in Eureka.   This predated him, and he hated that he never really opened up the discussion about her past in case she did want to share it.   Instead he felt like he was invading her privacy as he opened the truck to go through it's contents.    

He was limited for time and he didn't want to dwell on it long.  After this was over, he would tell her in great detail about Hughes and ask her if she had anything she wanted to share.   He looked at a neatly folded pile of fatigues and lifted them out to set aside.   Her dress uniform hung in the closet, that she wouldn't dare wrinkle.   Then there was a belt and holster.   Some blankets.   Boots.   A gun cleaning kit and mess kit.   Knives.    And a small safe with a touch pad key code lock.   That he grabbed and immediately entered the code: 0611.

The case opened and there was a gun.  No surprise.   The journal secured to the lid was what he was after so he grabbed it and locked the box back up.   He opened the little book and saw meticulously kept, handwritten records of dates, times, coordinates and operations.   Causalities, notable events.  A record of every military action she had been a part of, starting with a confirmed kill as a cadet on the first page.

He blinked.  She hadn't even graduated yet and they sent her to the field as a sniper? A sniper.  She wasn't just a great marksman, she was one of the elite!   Then the pages of dates and times and numbers, bodies that piled up as she carefully pulled the trigger.   Recorded yardage, recorded shots, wind speed.  Everything bit of data to record this except for the target's name.

She was just a kid.

He had to focus.   This was all something for later.   He quickly flipped through the pages, keeping his eye focused on finding keywords: vaccination or Raven.  Finally he found the entry.   It was a mere six months prior to her coming to Eureka.   An engagement in the desert.   Something about seizing artifacts.   Her special ops team had been given a vaccination to protect them from an ancient virus that was suspected to be in the tomb they were vandalizing.   Well of course it wasn't writing in the ink that way, but he could read between the lines.  He saw the hesitation and the gap in the journal where she debated on what word to use, 'preserving from grave robbers' was written a lot harder than the rest of her sentence.   So he had his answer, the date and time of  her vaccination against a virus that had completely eradicated the people of an entire city-state in ancient times.  An advanced civilization who didn't stand a chance against this plague.

Roy was going to call Ed with the information, but instead chose to take a picture and text it to him.   There was a lot to digest in the entry and he didn't want to be the one to choose what was delivered as data and what wasn't.   He snapped a photo of the page and cropped it so it contained nothing but a description of the event.  The kid would never compromise Riza, he trusted him to use this information wisely, so he sent it.  Watched the confirmation that it was received and read and got back a text in reply.

“I get to be there when you take this fucker down.”

If only Ed knew that the battle was going to be in court, not some showdown in the streets.   It probably went a lot further than Raven, it's not as if some General was sitting in his room at night cooking up vaccinations like Meth.   He had a military contractor create this, he had someone tasked to create and distribute this for him.    Tracing it back to Raven would be next to impossible.   It went through the system like a root that broke through the pipes and was feeding on the sewer water.  

“We made this.”

Roy stared at that text.   Then another one appeared.

“We made the first one.”  

Roy closed his eyes.   Goddammit.  

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

Roy made it back to the infirmary just as Ed arrived with the data he collected.   “So, where are we?”

Ed opened the door to reveal he had his brother Alphonse working on something with Dr. Marcoh.   Mustang went in the room, eyes glued to the dry erase board as the two worked out their thoughts for all to see.   “The original Xerses vaccine was made specifically for Hawkeye's team.”

“So you've checked personnel records?”  Roy asked, knowing the answer already. Riza was the loose end, it was important enough Raven got his hands dirty delivering the murder weapon.

“They're all dead.”  Dr. Knox said from the corner.   “The rest of her team is already gone.  Died in their sleep, shipped home and the plane went down.”

Roy could feel his rage brewing.  

“I made the vaccine.”  Marcoh said.   “I remember it clearly.   They sent me some cloth that was a burial shroud, from a tomb that had been excavated and the air had killed the grave robbers.    The instructions were to produce a vaccination for this antique strain in case the team going in to this vicinity was exposed.”

“There is nothing wrong with that, doctor.”  Roy assured him.   “You did save lives.”

Alphonse Elric stepped back from the board.   “The vaccine itself is not the issue, it's the administration of this recent booster that is.  The booster was made to specifically cause a response, to overwork the system which has an already built up immunity and can target what was injected.  It's a modified virus made to feast on it's weaker self.”

Roy looked at the notes on the board.   A vaccination meant to attack the very specific signature of the previous vaccination.  Something that would be in nobody else's system in the century unless the were given the first Xerses Vaccine.  So now it was attacking the host body itself.  “Well that is way beyond Raven's creative ability and comprehension.  Who the hell made this?”

“If I were a corrupt asshole who stole priceless relics from a war torn country,” Ed said.  “I would say that I had the money to spare to fund a private lab to create something for me.  We forget what it's like to not work here, someone out in a lab dying for funding and freedom would jump at the chance like this.”

“Especially with the spin that it's for the people.”  Alphonse added.

“For the refugees.”  Marcoh chimed in.

“For fucks sake.” Knox snapped and stood up to rush into the room with his patient.   He saw the vitals spike and knew the inevitable was here.  Her body was rejecting the baby to try and increase it's chances for survival.   She was suffering a miscarriage which under normal circumstances would be fine with just careful monitoring, but he was concerned about hemorrhaging in her current condition.  It was time to leave the cure to the researchers, he was here to be a doctor for his patient.

Roy was in the room immediately, following Knox as he tapped on monitors and lifted up the sheet and cursed to himself.   Roy didn't need him to tell him what was happening, he needed him to not say what was happening.   “Can we stop the bleeding?”

Knox looked over at him, eyes pleading with him to not go into detail with what was going on because he wasn't an idiot.   “Go help them find a cure.   There is nothing you can do here.”

Roy wanted to stay, it seemed right, but Knox was correct.   He was needed elsewhere.  So he turned around and went back into the observation room where Marcoh met him with consoling eyes and the Elrics searched his face for answers to their silent question.    They didn't need to know.   “What are the odds that we can attack this virus and not do more harm?”

“It's the only option we have.”  Marcoh said sadly.  “Odds are stacked against us.”

“Fuck the odds.” Ed said.  

“Brother.”  Al said and Ed went over to the board and circled the word Xerses Virsus.  

“We might not know what this mystery scientist made, but I bet we're a thousand times better than that hack!”  Ed said.  “We make our own virus to attack our known variable, Marcoh's Xerses Virus itself.   Then we'll know the worst case scenario of what we're dealing with and take the next step which is to figure out how to destroy what we made.”

“We don't have that kind of time.” Alphonse protested.

“We don't have a choice.”  Ed said.  “And if we run out of time I'll open the gate again and put her somewhere were time stops.”

“What the fuck, brother?”  Al's gasped and everyone looked to Al.  The portal wasn't something they understood at all.  He would dare open it again?  And jeopardize Hawkeye?

“Years off someone's life is better than no life at all.”  Ed snapped. “I'll make that sacrifice.   I'll make it.   She saved us and that's just equivalent exchange as I see it.”

Roy didn't say anything as Ed stormed out and screamed about getting to work.    Al mumbled about 'cheating death' and 'throwing limbs at God' before following his brother out of the room.   Marcoh just picked up his things and nodded before leaving.    Roy stood there and chose to ignore the reference to their Necromancy experiment gone wrong and pick up the tablet Marcoh left for him with the specs on his original Xerses vaccination.  Then he went into the room to be with his wife while they lost their first child.

[elsnark]

So I heard about this one YR and it’s a fucking trip lemme tell ya.  I don’t want to say they’re playing YR wrong, but... actually... that’s exactly want I want to say.   They don’t know how to play YR.  As a YR main, I know my stuff and lemme say... what I heard is absolutely ridiculous.  It’s not even a difference in playstyle, it’s a difference in common sense and knowing how this game works.  Lemme explain:

“YR is OP. (uses YR as a one trick pony)” Are you talking about PvE or PvP?  In PvP, I can give you that.  If she manages to gain orbs and MP (her opponent’s fault btw, Ara is pretty useless without orbs, if you know how to fight Ara she’s basically nothing), she has access to some stupid shit.  I think some of the things she can pull in PvP got noticeably nerfed, but I’m a PvE main so I’ll admit I can’t be 100% sure.  In PvE, if we’re talking about her damage, she’s pretty average, maybe even a touch above average.  If we’re talking about her utility (which I don’t think this person is), I’ll give you that.  If you’re using her as a one trick pony (Rakshasa Inferno -> Suppression), like this YR is doing, she’ll seem OP, but she isn’t.  You’re also using her wrong.  YR isn’t a one trick pony.  Let me talk about her average PvE build. To just talk about the one combination I’ve mentioned, Rakshasa Inferno -> Suppression is situational.  If you’re wasting 310 MP and 8 orbs on a couple of enemies, you’re bad.  If you’re using Rakshasa Inferno -> Suppression every single moment it’s off cooldown, you’re bad.  I’ve also noticed in the last patch or so, Suppression’s suction when combined with Inferno is really finicky.  It could just be weird lag I’m encountering, but I don’t know. YR has access to Energy Wave which, while nice AoE, it’s pretty subpar.  You’re not even really using Energy Wave for damage.  I mean, if it manages to kill that’s great I guess, but its main purpose is to attempt to group and to try and get more MP.  YR’s natural MP gain is abysmal at best unless you’re running Plague or throwing your dodge ball commands into groups of enemies so if Energy Wave manages to get you mega MP, good.  The thing about Energy Wave’s MP gain is that you have to hit a stupid amount of enemies to even justify it.  If you’re using it on a couple of enemies... I guess that’s fine... but you’re missing out on the best part of Energy Wave.  If you use it on bosses, what the actual fuck are you even doing?  Not only will you not get MP, Energy Wave knocks down after so much as breathing on an enemy.  Sure, it pushes them a fair bit of distance depending, but it knocks down.  It’s admittedly not even that great a grouping tool unless you’re simply trying to get things onto the same x axis. Energy Void?  Don’t talk to me about this.  It’s been awhile since I timed it, but if I’m remembering right it takes approximately 4 seconds to cast the charged version for only 6k%.  I get it, that’s still about 1.5k% per second, but you’re stuck in that animation.  You don’t have i-frames.  It has a rather long recovery time if I recall correctly and its start up time is horrible.  It also very quickly causes enemies to stoic thus messing up your party members.  I get it.  It has good suction so it groups pretty well.  However, if it doesn’t kill, which it likely won’t, you messed up your party and threw enemies randomly about.  Even without a party, I can’t justify standing in place for 4 seconds then throwing enemies everywhere.  Energy Void can’t even be used to cancel if you want to charge it.  It won’t charge if you use it as a cancel.  Not even is its time:damage bad, It’s hardly even viable unless you’re okay with just using it by itself.  She still has Suppression which takes like 1 second to cast and has about the same suction.  Another great thing about Suppression is that it doesn’t throw enemies everywhere after it finishes.  Suppression is also less pricey.  Suppression’s downside, however, is if it doesn’t Crit, it’s pretty useless in terms of damage.  To make up for it, though, Suppression offers a debuff.  On one hand, you have Energy Void, the multi-hit wait for at least 4 seconds skill while on the other you have Suppression which is good utility. Lemme re-visit Rakshasa Inferno.  Inferno has great AoE, BUT nothing will ever get the full hits unless it’s like Bone Dragon when he’s hunched over you breathing fire.  Even then I’m not 100% sure if Bone Dragon takes all the hits.  Maybe Hennon’s final form takes all the hits, but I can’t be 100% sure.  Rakshasa Inferno is absolutely useless on agile enemies or if they’re about the same size as you.  Without Suppression (or a party member’s skill) to hold enemies in place, Rakshasa Inferno barely damages the common opponent.  I did testing awhile back so I can’t remember the exact average if it tosses.  On a stationary enemy, however, if I’m remembering my numbers right, Inferno will on average do between 10k% and 14k%.  I think in my testing I saw a few 7k% for stationary ones too.  Its damage fluctuates so much and YR herself needs to use an extra 160 MP and 3 orbs to even make this viable on the average enemy that I can’t even really call this good.  It can’t stand by itself in most situations so it’s just average to me.  It has a good damage potential, yes, arguably the best damage out of anything she can do, but the skill itself is very finicky and unreliable. Don’t talk to me about Infernal Circle.  This skill is mainly just for i-frames for when everything else is on cooldown.  You can also use it when you’re surrounded, but its damage is questionable when it’s canceled.  However, this skill likely won’t be killing anything if left uncanceled so it’s best to just cancel to avoid a knock-up.  Not only is it for i-frames, it’s used for utility.  It provides good hitstun and allows your party members to either escape from an assault or to kill things.  It also allows you to escape by canceling with High Speed. Shadoweave is a base Ara skill and good for any Ara.  It has good utility and good damage.  I can’t really count this for the, “YR is OP” argument since each Ara has access to it.  When we’re talking about what makes a class OP, we’re talking about skills that are class locked. Can’t really talk about Energy Absorption either because it’s also a base Ara skill. Wolf Art is really your only reliable mobbing tool... and kinda for bossing too since Rakshasa Art is situational... The good part of Wolf Art compared to Energy Wave/Void is that it doesn’t knock down.  Sure, it can’t group things from different axises together like those two, but it’s incapable of knocking down unless you fuck up the chaining.  Although its utility is arguably worse than Suppression, it does better damage.  If you also aren’t using Wolf Art, you’re doing something wrong as a YR. Rakshasa Art is really only helpful on large bosses.  Sure, you can use Stance 1 -> Stance 2 -> Cancel for low MP cost/high orb cost damage, but the full art chain itself is... even on a large boss you may not get all the hits in.  It really depends on the boss and your positioning.  If you regularly use the full Rakshasa Art on a boss that’s about your size, you’re bad.  You’re literally wasting valuable resources there and YR players need to think before they do anything.  Analyze a situation and see what fits best.  It’s important to note that your party members will likely be absolute idiots and move whatever you’re trying to hit with Rakshasa Art. High Speed is really just for utility.  Its utility is a bit strong thanks to its trait options, I’ll admit that.  I’ll admit that High Speed is probably broken in terms of utility.  It’s broken because of how often it can be used/Super Armor with Powerful and it’s... it actually legitimately breaks YR’s own ability to perform commands.  Due to its [Enhanced] version, it gives 10% Speeds... that can be stacked to be 30%.  High Speed is a pretty double edged sword.  On one hand:  utility.  On the other hand:  YR literally can’t use any commands (god forbid you try to use her dodge ball commands) and chaining into her Secret Arts becomes 100x harder. Repel is really only there to help YR’s piss poor Magical stat.  Thankfully it innately lasts long enough to do a good amount.  I can fit Rakshasa/Wolf Art, Inferno, and Suppression. Hell Blast.  If you’re using this on an agile or smaller boss, you’re an idiot.  Her HA already won’t do full damage in a vast majority of cases and you want to hinder it more?  You can use this to clear small areas if you really want to since it has good suction, but it takes so damn long to cast that things will probably already be dead before it starts to descend.  You can use this to boss, but your party members are likely going to be selfish morons who move the boss as you’re HAing.  Hell Blast is good, don’t get me wrong, but holy hell it’s a pain to use. Once again, her damage is unreliable, likely above average at best but her utility is just right.

“I’m a Physical YR. (uses Inferno -> Suppression consistently, doesn’t use Shadoweave or Wolf Art [a few of the chain moves go off her Physical iirc] even once)” Excuse me?  YR can’t be physical.  Literally everything she has with few exceptions plays off her Magical Attack.  Which of your attack stats a skill plays off of is locked.  You can’t change it.  It is physically impossible to be a physical YR.  If you think YR can survive off of Physical damage, you’re dumb as a doorknob.

(uses HA on Maya) Do they... do they not know how Maya works?????  Not only have I explained how Hell Blast on small targets is bad, but Maya of all things?  Maya’s agile.  She’s small.  Why would you do this?

(kills Maya with Rakshasa Inferno) I’m kinda calling bullshit on this.  As I explained, Inferno’s damage is too spread out.  Even without taking into account how Maya works, she won’t take even half of its damage.  I guess Inferno can kill whatever the fuck you want it to if you’re a +12 (maybe even +11), but... lower than that (and they don’t have a +11, they’re like +9 or +10)?  Especially with your stat set-up leaning towards Physical?  I don’t think so.  I mean unless they have maxed Bravery ERP, Bravery Skill Ring, stacked Bravery, or a combination of this?  This seems way too far-fetched.

In conclusion:  If you play YR like this person, you don’t know YR.  You need to learn.

✧Sourcream

[newsfundastuff]

A  thing that occurs to you if you attend an elite college or university, as I did, is that most of the professors teaching you are more or less the same beleaguered time-servers who would be teaching you at any other school. I well remember the sad, unshaven schlump in corduroys who taught one of my introductory English courses: He was fine. He knew his stuff. But so did the people who taught me English at my public high school. Sure, at name-brand colleges you can attend huge lectures given by name-brand professors who appear on television and the op-ed pages and the bestseller lists — but they’re just lectures. These days anyone can listen to a lecture given by a world-class expert on virtually any subject by going on YouTube. The actual interactive teaching in these lectures is done by beleaguered grad students in rumpled clothing.By the time I’d graduated from Yale College in 1989, I had concluded that the value in the experience came more or less entirely from my classmates, not my teachers: I met a lot of wonderful, brilliant, hilarious fellow students. But couldn’t graduates of just about any half-decent college say the same? For that matter, I’ve met a lot of wonderful, brilliant, hilarious people at the various jobs I’ve held over the years. There are a lot of wonderful, brilliant, hilarious people working at the New York Post, for instance. The Post paid me to be a part of their gang, whereas my family and I paid Yale.The elite-college experience is plainly not worth the immense cost. There are studies on this. In most cases, if you are bright enough to get into Harvard, but don’t actually go to Harvard, your post-college income will closely resemble that of a Harvard graduate. As George Mason University economist Bryan Caplan cleverly puts it, if the point of going to college is to learn things (rather than to obtain a certificate of smartness that is in essence no different from the one the Scarecrow gets at the end of The Wizard of Oz), why do students invariably celebrate when they get to class and find a notice that it has been canceled?There is a widely shared assumption in our culture that having a degree from a place like Yale will get you a good job, or at least help you get a good job. In my case this hasn’t been true at all. I entered my profession by taking a pass-fail aptitude test given by the Associated Press. I passed the test. The AP didn’t care which college I went to, although perhaps it mattered that I at least graduated from a college. Deeming me employable, the AP subsequently hired me as a news clerk at their New York City headquarters. Once I got in that door, everything that happened in my career depended not on the abstraction of where I had studied but on my ability to do my job. Accepting whatever assignments I could get while doing various clerical tasks at the AP (at the time it fell to the news clerks to print out copies of the wire service’s stories and file them in cubbyholes, each marked with a day of the month, so as to form an archive for the reporters to consult), I managed in nine months to assemble enough clips to impress upon the editors of the Post the notion that they should hire me. They didn’t particularly care where I had gone to college either. Some of my colleagues had fancy degrees, others had gone to no-name schools. It just didn’t matter. All that mattered was whether they had made the editors think they could produce. Some who couldn’t were shown the door. Others were promoted within the paper or poached by other media outlets.The latest elite-college admissions scandal rests on a foundation of pure silliness; as Jim Geraghty writes, people with rich, famous, well-connected parents are the ones who least need the imprimatur of a famous college to speed them through life. Yet these same people are the ones with the means to indulge the status obsession that plagues most of us. Let’s not think of Felicity Huffman et al. as unusual: Everybody with the means to steer their kids into top-drawer colleges is thinking about how to game the system. This is because an elite-college degree isn’t an instrument or a tool; it doesn’t have to lead to anything. It’s a status symbol in itself. Yale is Louis Vuitton is Piaget is Mercedes.Having a Yale diploma in the back of my closet hasn’t directly benefited me in any way, as far as I can tell. But. The mention of Yale, in certain quarters, generates a sharp intake of breath. Or an “Oooh” of sycophancy. Or a sullen grumble and icy stare from those recalling how their own bid to enter the portals of Yale was rebuked by the admissions committee. If your goal is to enhance your sense of superiority over your fellow man, a Yale education is an excellent way to do that. Unlike a Porsche or a Cartier, it is with you always. You can’t lose it and it can’t be stolen.Students at elite universities quickly notice the effect a mention of the magic name can have on people and regret the general cloud of discomfort it causes. This is the real source of the now-notorious habit Harvard students and graduates have developed of replying to the question, “Where did you go to college?” with “I went to school in Boston.” Yale students sometimes do the equivalent — “I went to school in Connecticut.” Some observers consider this dissembling a form of passive-aggressive bragging, but that isn’t how it’s intended. It’s intended to spare you, their interlocutors, from an ugly reaction (whether it be fawning or bristling) and it’s intended to spare them, the elite students, from indulging the equally sordid instinct to lord it over their fellow man. Harvard and Yale students aren’t good enough actors to fake the unease they feel when the question comes up. They genuinely are pained.Somehow those of us who don’t own an Audemars watch or a Birkin handbag manage to muck on without them, and we don’t fret about whether our children will someday own one. Few of us have a hole in our soul because we don’t own the fanciest car in town. Because we realize worship of material goods is beneath us. Diploma worship ought to be equally so.

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