#suicidal intention

[muddthebugg]

Star-Glitter Spires

A prompt with the words "welcome, impulse, night", I really enjoyed this one! Honestly tho, it's just a coincidence that I've posted it on Halloween, it's not necessarily themed to the holiday. Just when I finally decided to finish it!

. . . . . . . . .

Length: 1540 words

Characters: Riggnarok, Succoria

Summary: "Spires loom in the distance, grand and glittering like one has taken the stars themselves and embed them into cloud-ripping mountain flesh. It is much unlike the land from which they came."

[CW: Suicidal Thoughts, Ideation, and Intention]

"Go."

Her thralls look upon her in shock and confusion, still startled both from her abrupt presence and the foreign world they find themselves trapped in.

Spires loom in the distance, grand and glittering like one has taken the stars themselves and embed them into cloud-ripping mountain flesh. It is much unlike the land from which they came.

"I said go!" She stomps her hoof, rising to terrifying height with rumbling bellows. "I cast you thralls unto this world! I have no further use of you!"

Still they linger, widened eyes and pricked pupils flitting between her, their binds, their others, and the world beyond.

The warrior snorts in something nearing pity; it is a wonder the wretched things have built such a society for themselves in the land she has seen beyond. Not a single demon spotted amongst their masses, merely every shade of human she has ever witnessed and more. Though her pity soon gives way to frustration, and her patience runs out.

She stomps on their dragging chains, baring her dagger (how she misses the familiar helm of the Separator in her grip) and breaking the metal binds in one stroke.

"Sniveling, whimpersome things!" She snarls at them, lips curling back, "this world will welcome you as its lost children, grant you your wildest desires, now get out of my sight!"

Then, they understand. They flinch and shield their half-naked forms from her burning-marrow gaze, scattering among the strange trees and off into the night's forest. One lingers for but a moment, just long enough to look back at her with a strange stony calm. Then, with a whip of wind it turns back from her and darts off with its fellows.

When the wretched things are gone, when she is surrounded in foreign chitters and calls, she finds her head tilting back to find the stars again.

The stars. They are there in plenty, but so very strange. Boasting colors and shapes she does not recognize from any of her previous travels, or from historic tellings. She cannot see the hungry gaze of the First And Most Terrible King. She cannot see the endless swirl of the Beckoning Eye. Her soul howls for its loss, and she howls in turn.

. . .

She wanders for a small age in and of itself. Unknowing of what to do with herself. Beside the most basic things: eat, drink, sleep, and wander, she is a hollow thing.

So when she finds a cave, she figures it's as good a place as any to die. Dark, as her forebears, the First Ones, preferred it. Cold, as it was before the flame beast Ormagöden. Lonely and cast off, as her failures demanded she should be. There is none around worthy of killing her, so she will allow time to take up the job instead.

She settles herself there, shedding her armor, her bindings, until she is as naked as the moment she hatched. This is the last offering she can give, one last asking for mercy before her oblivion. May the pain in her wasting be repentance, and her final breath her only plea.

. . .

The growls of her belly echoes for the last time, giving way to deafening silence. She doesn't remember, truly doesn't know how long she has been here. She doesn't actively know much of anything outside the senses that trickle back into the furthest of all caverns.

Water, from a source nearby, except it smells...strange. Even the air, the taste comes off far more bland than she is expecting, let alone used to. And the creatures, all crying and screaming their stake on this cursed world. Some have dared to approach her cavern only to meet a sad fate; crushed into a paste in her grip and tossed out of the dark and gaping cave-maw. Unwanted visitors stopped appearing after that.

Soon she grows so weak that she can no longer stand, and she knows her time draws near.

. . .

She can hear something strange, something that disrupts the cadence of noise she had grown vaguely familiar with. After a moment, three distinct scents makes her notice. Burning fat-flesh, burning wood, and—

...and one of those wretched things. She knows who it is—The One Who Paused.

There is little left to wonder about; clearly it has come for revenge, to take the life of the Tainted Coil's greatest warrior. It is no secret the wretched things hold no sentiment for the anything of the Tainted Coil,  but to be killed by a sneaking thrall of all things would be an insult on her matriliniage, something deserving of a cloven skull.

Unfortunately, she has let herself grow weak. So when the wretched thing tries to sneak into her cavern and take her life, she holds herself upright and bares her natural weapons.

"You, wretched thing! Whimpering thrall! You dare approach me of your own right?"

Its face twitches at the sight of her, then turns to a cold expression she has seen before.

"Ha! You are either stupidly brave or immensely stupid!"

"You are my enemy's greatest warrior," it speaks like she hasn't just insulted it. "I have come to battle to you to the death for all of mankind...." It falters, staring over her frame.

"...But you look sooner ready to die."

She cannot but help a glance down to herself. Where a strong belly once was, full of strength and power to cast her voice over mountaintops, it was now concave and meek. Hollow.

"So I am. And what will you do about it?"

The tiny thing scrunches and shifts into a battling stance, holding its makeshift weapon: some strange looking dagger or spear? Either or, it was pitifully small.

"Ha!" She tosses her head, wonderfully amused. "You think that I would allow for a mere thrall to take my life?"

The warrior lowers her head, marrow-eyes glinting in the torchlight, "Perhaps I have been to lenient with you creatures, then!"

"I am no mere thrall!" It growls, stomping its cloth-bound foot upon the cavern floor. It isn't particularly effective.

"Is that so?" She peers closer, past the haze of starvation, tongue flicking. It was hard to tell humans apart regardless; they all looked the same outside of their colors. But this one... it was particularly familiar somehow.

The flame of its torch flickers wild a moment, and a flash of memory scatters across her eyes.

Ah.

"Riggnarok..."

"Hn," it lowers itself even further at the name. "even the Coil's greatest warrior has heard of little me?" It taunts her with that pitiful brittle-metal thing it boasted as a weapon.

Again she snorts, "You certainly aren't insignificant as the rest of your kind." The demon shifts back, waving at nothing.

"The Coil had to open up the Cursed Sea to get you wretched things to destroy yourselves for us." It isn't a pleasant memory for her. She can still hear Aetulia's sorrowful keens.

"Though, I suppose, a great warrior would be well worthy of killing another... so, take my life or leave me to time." Finally, she settles where she lies, exhaustion settling in like the heavy dregs of sleep.

Riggnarok pauses, startled at her words.

"Kill me. Bring honor to your wretched people, win your day." One wing flicks tiredly out to where the cave-maw looks upon the glittering spires.

"You must have seen this world by now. See how it welcomes you and shuns me. So earn it, and bring it to your peoples."

Again that squishy face folds in several places, and the thing seems displeased.

"I am almost dead," she continues, turning onto her back showing her belly, giving in, but never begging, "and it is better to go out by the bloodied hands of a warrior than by the patient hands of time... even if those hands are wretched."

Finally the thing reacts, "Hn! Perhaps for you horrid demons!" It huffs and straightens up, head low. "But there is no honor in killing you like this. Like a Razor Elk in a famine."

"You dare?" She shoots to her hooves on impulse, swaying hard to one side.

"Weak as I am, I could swat you with one gesture! Snap my teeth over your puny head and you will be no more...!"

"And yet," Riggnarok nearly whispers, "I am still here." Its arms cross, weapon set away, looking unimpressed.

"If you wish to die by my hands so badly, then we will fight. But not with you this..." It has the gall to look disgusted, "...pitiful husk of a warrior."

She flashes her fangs, not taking kind to the run of insults. Yet, even then, she concedes.

"...fine. So be it. I accept your terms."

Riggnarok hardly blinks at her before turning around and leaving the cave-maw.

The demon snorts a surprised noise, "And where are you going, Wretched Riggnarok?"

"Even those of the Tainted Coil need food, do they not?" It doesn't even bother to turn and face her as it speaks, disappearing around a bend. Only its voice echoes back, "I'll be back in a few hours."

And then its scent fades, and it's gone. She is alone again.

For a moment, Succoria thinks she misses the warmth of that small fire.

[toffee32]

Ever since I finished my Vulpes Inculta / Courier Six fancomic I wanted to draw a short epilogue because I left the most important moment of their relationship not drawn, and to let Vulpes explain his complicated feelings towards Mila, whom he's learning to please and love. ♡

[nowimjustastranger]

Did Stcmo!Ford regrets confronting his Stan at home, since Filbrick heard the hole thing and decided to kick Stan out? Since in canon it was Ford's accusation of Stan deliberately sabotaging him that gave Filbrick the excuse he needed to kick Stan out.

Yes.

Ford beats himself up for picking a fight with Stan in their living room, for throwing such a bold accusation at his brother without stopping to think about what he was saying. If he had just taken a few moments to cool off instead of going straight home, he would have used his allegedly genius brain and considered scenarios other than sabotage. Ford might've been distancing himself from his brother once they hit highschool, but he still knew Stan.

And, while Stan had been incredibly nonchalant about accidentally breaking his project and ruining his chances of attending his dream school, that didn't mean that he deserved to be dragged out of his house and thrown to the sidewalk with a pre-packed duffle bag. And it was entirely Ford's choice to turn away from his brother without even bothering to get his side of the story, without considering how he felt about being left behind while Ford chased his bullshit destiny. They had both been selfish in different ways, but they were children on the cusp of becoming adults in a house that had given them no room to grow.

Regardless, Ford had clung to that useless anger and betrayal, had held it close to his aching heart so he wouldn't feel the real pain of losing his brother that lurked beneath it. He wanted to be right about Stan's intentions just as much as he wanted to be wrong. Because if he was wrong then he turned his back on his brother for an accident, had abandoned his little brother to the streets. Ultimately, Ford decided that he would reach out to Stan and ask if they could talk after graduating from Backupsmore.

It didn't matter in the end though.

He discovered a message from his dying brother on his answering machine after he and Fiddleford got back to their dorm, the two having spent a few hours studying at the library for separate upcoming exams. And it would be just his fucking luck that the one time he didn't pick up the phone for his mystery caller, Stan decided to talk. His brother left what amounted to a suicide note considering he was bleeding heavily from his slit wrists, barely managing to hang up the phone when he began to fade because he didn't want Ford to hear him die.

[catilinas]

btw

[dykedvonte]

Curly had two days to act and Swansea had two months.

I think it’s just interesting that every defense of Swansea not immediately acting are the same ones that are argued against for Curly. “He didn’t want to alert Daisuke or makes things worse for Anya either Jimmy!” I mean people also assume that about Curly and the crew. “He has to think about his plan of action and a right moment!” Again so did Curly, power and authority aside, he still would have to think of what he had to do. “He makes sure he doesn’t have to be around Jimmy!” So did Curly and they only do this to an extent, both give Jimmy more than a few opening to keep harassing Anya.

This isn’t defense of Curly nor a damnation of Swansea. Their actions are very parallel to each others in tragic and sour ways when it comes to how they approached helping Anya. In the grand scheme of it all they both did the same thing: Nothing. No action either took stopped the inevitable outcome of her death nor Jimmy’s continued damage to themself.

The only real difference is Swansea didn’t like Jimmy which is pretty substantial, but also just as damning as Curly knowing how bad Jimmy could get to an extent. He had even less of a reason to wait, even more of a reason to act seeing as he was now worried for Anya AND Daisuke. He is not bound by the possible procedure as Captain and actively does not care about what happens next. So what does it matter if he acted in the moment? Why did he wait? I think he’s just as morally complex and grey as Curly and we hold him on a pedestal that still perpetuates things in rape culture the game critiques.

It’s not just enough to dislike and be abrasive to predators/abusers like Jimmy. It’s not enough to just put yourself between them and the other person. It’s not enough to hold tensions when you know someone is vulnerable. He and Curly do the exact same things but on different sides of the coin. I ask how is it better to not turn a blind eye but still not really do anything about what you are seeing? Not until it affects you atleast…

The game makes a big point to not put men doing the bare minimum or who wait to do more on pedestals and I’m actually surprised so many are missing that point.

[mysterycitrus]

thinking about Him………. (my beloved oc who i think about every day)

[pjharvey]

ppl in my notes saying this was “bad timing” i don’t think you realize that either going on a substance abuse spree and being reckless with your life or suicide are both very common responses men have to being held accountable for their abuse

[violent138]

HC that Jason and Dick have very different strategies for handling Tim's repeated jokes about killing himself.

Jason: "Why don't you just stay out of this one, Dickhead? Let the kid make his own decision."

Dick, kicking Jason: "Tim think about the consequences--"

Tim, more annoyed by the conversation than anything, slumped on the table: "The whole point is that there are no consequences."

Dick: "--if you killed yourself, you'd violate the no-killing rule and Bruce would revive you to be disappointed and make your life miserable."

Jason, to Dick: "You're such an idiot."

Tim: *bursts into laughter*

Alfred: *booking therapy*

[jaskierx]

doi i've experienced a Lot of suicidal ideation in my life. i really appreciate good depictions of suicide and suicidality in media because too often shows get it wrong

if you watched s2 and chose to focus on the brief moment of izzy saying 'i want to go' when he's made peace with the fact that he is actively dying at this moment

instead of the entirety of ed's arc in eps 1-3 where he shows incredibly accurate suicide warning signs, makes multiple increasingly desperate suicide attempts, is visibly relieved when he thinks he's about to die, and has a lengthy interaction with his subconscious about how he doesn't want to live bc he's unloveable and nobody is waiting for him - only to then be loved back to life by someone who accepts him exactly as he is

and if you chose to take from this season the message that 'the writers think that suicidal disabled queer people should just die' instead of 'nobody is too broken to be loved. somebody will see you as you are, will see every part of you that you hate, every part that you want to carve off yourself and discard, and they will choose to love you anyway. you are not unloveable and you deserve to choose life'

then that says more about you than the writers

[dumbassv32]

comic sketch + random doodles babyyy

[squiddlysq]

Finished System Collapse the other day & Murderbot has never been more relatable

First image based on this post by @murderbot-moodboard

[furiousgoldfish]

personal post (tw: suicidal ideation, detailed descriptions of psychological and emotional abuse, osdd, alters, theories about alters splitting)

I have a child alter who is wildly suicidal, to the point where they'll push me to commit suicide with every opportunity, and try to do psychological damage to me as an attempt to make me suicidal. I've been trying to figure out for years what was it that made them so determined to die, with no luck because this alter does not give any information away, and seems to hate me and my attempts.

Recently I've had a flashback where I remembered what it was like to be their age. It felt like I had to die. There was constant pressure, almost like a duty, that I have to be thinking about ending my life at all times. I needed to make sure I wasn't alive for long. And I felt this at all times, that continuing to be alive is a failure and I need to do whats right. It was bizarre to remember. But there had to be a reason I felt this.

I attempted again to probe at the alter, to try and figure out whats the reason for all this, what was done to us to make us so determined to die? And this time I managed to get a little bit of information – the the alter lashed out at me saying 'well there's no other way! remember this!' and I got some interesting flashbacks of psychological abuse. I knew vaguely this was going on, but forgot for the most part, that it had any effect on me. (tw for the next part)

When I was about 8 or 9, I got my own room, and one of my caretakers, my grandmother, had an issue with that. Until then, she was able to lock me in her own room and beat me, because I slept in there, but now it was a bit more difficult to catch me. So, she would often stand in my doorway, and scream at me, for hours, in bouts of intense rage. I thought this was normal at the time, just because it was so common, and nobody did anything to stop it.

She would start by calling me animal names, and demonic names, telling me that I'm the most selfish brat to ever exist who only ever thinks of themselves, and I will burn in hell for it – she would describe it in detail how I would be boiled eternally, there was no escape from it. Then she would go on to tell me how everything that is wrong in the world is directly my fault – my parents fighting, other people being upset, her entire life and misery, that was all on me, I was the direct cause of it. And then, she would go on to describe in detail, how she was going to kill me, usually suffocating me with her bare hands. And she would swear and promise that she would do it, she'd challenge me to not even think that it wouldn't happen. And then she'd go on to describe how much I deserved that, how everything I do in life is done directly to ruin her life, to cause her misery, how I'm a demon who is only happy when she suffers, how I satisfy myself by torturing her, how I am the most twisted, cruel, despicable, demonic, monstrous, unforgivable, horrendous ugly creature that ever existed, worst person in the entire world, and how I should be deeply ashamed of myself and everything I've ever done. She would state very clearly how everything in the entire world would be better if I didn't exist.

Now, me being age 9 or something like that, I thought, well, maybe she's right, maybe I am a bad person, maybe I am selfish by not forfeiting every second of my life to others, maybe I really am the reason everyone is fighting all the time, maybe I could have stopped it. Maybe I need to think about others more often, maybe I need to be more critical of myself. But, no matter how much I changed my behaviour, her rage wouldn't stop, until I was faced with the inescapable feeling of just being so intrinsically wrong and defected that I shouldn't exist. I remember wanting to disappear, wanting to fall trough the floor and into the earth and cease and desist. I would have to spend hours and hours listening to her scream, telling me I should have been murdered the second I was born.

And at this point my father had tried to/almost killed me a few times so death felt like a very inevitable and natural thing to happen to me. I wasn't even scared of upset about it because it just seemed like one of the normal things you know? If you're small and you see things are bad you easily accept your fate. If everyone around you thinks you should die, then you will die soon and thats that.

So by the age of 13 I was full on suicidal, I saw no value in myself, I felt violence and pain was all I deserved because everyone agreed upon it, and it was what I was experiencing at all times. I couldn't stop listening to the screaming and at the end of it, I just agreed with it, it felt true, why would anyone say it so many times, with such intense rage, if it was made up? And by the person who knew me since I was born? I had no arguments against it.

And then one day I was like, wait, this will kill me. Her screaming at me will force me into suicide. I can't have that. I need to cut her off if I want to live. This person doesn't love me, she's trying to kill me. I can't keep listening to her or I'll die. And then I did the funniest thing – I stopped talking to her even though we lived at the same house. And she did even funnier thing and DIDN'T NOTICE for a FULL YEAR. Which sounds wild on the surface, but here's how it played out: She would say something to me, I would stay quiet. She would assume my answer, and say what she wanted me to say, and add 'right?' at the end. I would stay quiet. She would continue the conversation as if I had said what she imagined. And this went on for a year.

With this new situation unfolding, I became certain that she didn't love me, even though she would cry and swear how she sacrificed everything for me and was the only person who loved me and so on – I literally caught her not noticing that she's cut off for a whole year. That was some heavy evidence and I had it.

The screaming however, continued, but now I decided, hey, I don't need to listen to this shit. I would put my hands on my ears (didn't have earphones in that era) and make whatever noises to shut her out. And it worked, I became unaffected by the screaming because I was no longer listening, she eventually stopped because it became obvious that I was oblivious to it and had no reaction, and I guess that was just not fun for her. I went on to not be severely affected by whatever she said because I understood by then that she's a liar and after my life and didn't care for her antics anymore.

Now you might be noticing a lack of consistency here – just how would a child who is completely broken and suicial just snap out of it, decide to cut off the cause of suicidality and then live on to be unaffected by the same abuse that almost cost them their life until then? I originally thought it was some survival instinct kicking in, letting me know that I'm too close to death and need to be putting some boundaries in my life, but that wasn't the case. I went on to think that I was no longer affected by the years of this abuse, I never thought about it, never felt like I needed to process that, I was convinced I dealt with this as a child.

What actually happened is that I became too close to suicide and I split. My osdd figured I was  close to death and something needed to be done. An alter formed who was able to contain all of that trauma inside themselves, the memories of how it felt to listen to that screaming for hours and hours until all hope was lost, until I could no longer see myself as anything but deserving of death and eternal hell. That was wrapped up and put inside a child version of myself who couldn't grow, couldn't see trough any of it, and had to stay trapped in that world, where they're always a minute away from being psychologically tortured and having their integrity assaulted in every way possible, and forced to listen how much their family members wanted to brutally murder them.

Once this alter split off, I was left in control of the body. I was able to evaluate the situation without the emotional effects of being brainwashed or tortured and decided to cut of grandmother immediately and to live my life without listening to her nonsense.

What is interesting to me is that this was the third time an alter split off in order for our life to be saved, one before was split due to my father, and another due to my grandmother, because of other nasty stuff she was doing to me. I'm trying to figure out just how neglected a child needs to be that a complete overhaul of attitude, sudden non-reactiveness to brainwashing and sudden complete apathy to screaming interactions, is just not noticed. Like this kid was close to death seconds before and now they're just fine and going on about their day ignoring everyone, and nobody noticed.

And this is not me being strong or resilient or anything like that. It was my brain tearing my memories and emotions in pieces and containing them into alters so that I would be able to live on without comitting suicide. If this hadn't happened I'd be dead. This also meant that all of that trauma would come back and make me sick for the rest of my life, or until I resolve it. That was me sacrificing my future in order to be able to survive the present. Developing trauma disorders that meant I would have to live while the pressure to commit suicide is always present in my brain, but I can resist it because I don't remember how it came to be there.

*

So, back to the main plot, after I finally extracted this information from my trapped, tortured alter, who just wanted to end it all, I said 'okay, well give the trauma to me, I'm older so it makes sense for me to handle it.'

I didn't handle it well. It was instant pain, dread, horror, I wanted to be dead. I was bedridden for days, kept re-experiencing the screaming, remembered  how many times I listened to descriptions of myself getting murdered, felt very horrified about it, and couldn't see how I thought this wouldn't affect me. What even needs to be wrong with a person to go tell a child in detail how they're going to murder them, how is this giving anyone pleasure. Feeling very icky about that. How hard would it be not to speak out loud your children-murdering fantasies. Get a secret diary or something for heavens sake.

It's a few days later and I am feeling, kinda weak, kinda close to passing out at all times, a bit shaken, bit scared. Very betrayed. Thankfully my sense of self is enough well established that I never doubt if anything that was said to me back then was true, because I'm so disgusted with the person who said it, I'm just feeling grossed out with it. I don't think I've managed to take in all of the trauma from the child alter, it wouldn't be something I could experience in a few days, it's been years of that stuff. But I'm glad to make progress, I'm pleased that something originally nonsensical makes sense, I'm glad I can make connections to why this alter is so suicidal, and I can at least try to make it easier on them. I'm hopeful that one day this part of me won't need to be trapped in an eternal state of a child being told to die.

[freckledgeto]

higuruma who physically cannot look at yuuji because he (and his conviction) (and his hope for saving higuruma and others) is so illuminating and bright that it physically pains him to look hes so real he’s just like me

[nowimjustastranger]

did stcmo ford ever get to save a stan in a very similar situation to how his stan died?

He sure has.

It's a big multiverse so he's absolutely come across a Stan that had slit his wrists before calling his brother to say goodbye. The difference in Dimension 41/S7 is that Stan's brother would've answered the phone, getting to hear Stan's suicide note in real time. At first, Ford 44/S7 would think that Stan was tipsy because of how sluggish he sounded, but he began to suspect something else was at play because of how lucid Stan was.

It's safe to say that a creeping feeling of dread took root as Ford 44/S7 realized that what Stan was saying sounded an awful lot like a goodbye, so he desperately asked Stan to come meet him in Gravity Falls so they could talk things out properly. But Stan's response only confirmed that Stan wasn't expecting to be around much longer, because he simply laughed and told Ford that he wanted nothing more than to see his brother but he didn't think it was in the cards for him.

Enter Ford 419"3, who finds Stan leaning heavily against the payphone, blood everywhere. Ford would frantically grab at Stan to drag him back because he needed medical attention immediately, which would trigger Stan's fight or flight response. Poor Ford 44/S7 would be stuck listening to his brother presumably being attacked, shouting into the phone for Stan, who was cussing up a storm as he grappled with Ford 419"3. Stan would run out of energy, weakly trying to struggle as Ford 419"3 repaired his severed veins and sealed the wounds.

They were both breathing heavily and covered in blood by the time Ford 419"3 finished patching Stan up, 44/S7 Ford's tiny voice coming out of the free hanging receiver. Stan passed out from blood loss and Ford 419"3 briefly turned his attention to his counterpart, grabbing the receiver to bark out an address before hanging up.

[utilitycaster]

(this is tagged for it as well, but putting it here: the below involves some non-graphic mention/discussion of suicide in relation to episode 3x78)

I think it's important to keep in mind, regarding the most recent episode, that while Ashton's behavior was extremely dangerous and reckless, it was not suicidal in intent. Ashton thought it would work. They thought that they would fix things, and they ignored all the smart people warning them against it because it would imply a lot of negative things about their parents. That doesn't mean it wasn't an action taken out of a certain lack of self-regard (Ashton's realization of this is what drives much of his conversations in the first half of the episode); but it's much more akin to an accidental overdose, or a drunk/reckless driving, or other dangerous choices. It feels very true to the idea of punk that Taliesin is going for, in which dying young is always very much a possibility, even perhaps an expectation; but not necessarily a goal. Ashton did not expect taking the shard to result in their death, and is incredibly shaken specifically because it did.

With that in mind I think the party's reactions seem very real and very understandable. The fact is, when someone does something very risky and nearly dies (or even is briefly clinically dead, using real-world terms) but ultimately survives it's extremely normal for one of the emotional responses to be anger that they put themselves in such danger. It is not, perhaps, rational, but most emotions aren't. It hurts a lot when someone one is close to does something that harmful to themselves. I don't judge the other members of Bells Hells for expressing those feelings. Frankly, them not expressing similar feelings in the past might very well be why Ashton made the decisions he did: the party lacking trust and walking on eggshells around each other is why he didn't confide in them, and why they fell apart so completely here.

I think it's relevant that Chetney tells Fearne, after stating he likes Ashton, that either she or Ashton can talk to him if they "want out", and he pretty heavily implies that this indicates not just leaving Bells Hells, but suicide, and that he has considered the latter in the past. It's clear that initially Chetney considers that a possible reason for Ashton's actions. He then gives Ashton the "You should leave" speech only after everyone present has been talking at dinner, after Ashton has indicated that he will help find Laudna. It only comes out after Ashton's emotional state is made more clear to him: it's pretty bad, but not actively at risk of self-harm (and indeed, desperately trying to avoid it and to change).

Finally, it's worth considering how important anger is to Ashton. Obviously I don't think having Imogen, FCG, and Chetney yell at them feels good. I also think it's going to feel better than apathy, and more honest than any other option. I don't think a forced gentleness would be better; in fact it might be worse, with them taking a break because clearly Ashton is having a hard time and needs to recover (shades of how Marisha mentioned Laudna feeling like a burden following her resurrection), rather than "we are clearly all in disarray and all have been not dealing with a lot of emotions, and this could have been any of us, and we should all regroup." I mentioned before that ultimately what's important is, angry as they are, Bells Hells undeniably stayed, and FCG and Imogen at least made it clear early on that they would, even if they were angry. Ashton was abandoned in the past by people who weren't even angry, is the thing. I don't think they cared enough to be.

[dykedvonte]

My post about Anya is making like a little ruckus on Twitter and I think it’s crazy how many people like have a problem with it.

Like you don’t have to agree with how I characterize Anya and her actions but it’s more like, why are you focused on only one aspect of her character? Why are you removing nuance from the situation? I don’t see it as giving Curly the benefit of the doubt when it comes to doing better for Anya, but as exploring his character and hers relationship with a the very little authentic facts we get about them. In truth, there’s a lot more I wish Curly did, even if it wasn’t pragmatic but I realize the issue there.

The first psychological horror game in a while that’s real intricate in its storytelling and makes you need to really need to address the morality of intentions and its already getting torn asunder smh 😔