#CW: Suicide Discussion

[fxcf]

Holy Shit, why does the majority of this Fandom have the IQ of a wet Potato Chip?

Howdy folks, it's me! The guy with a mask who may or may not be stealing your kneecaps sometime within the timeframe of last week.

So, MHA. That funky little manga and anime that is basically the foundation of my entire Online Prescience. I very much so enjoy it.

But the fandom, on the other hand, god damn can it be dumb. And I'mma talk about the things that fans think is Religious Text that is, in actuality, dumb as all flying Fuck.

So, let us begin!

~Part 1: The Hate of All Might.

I hate the fandom's treatment of All Might. A annoying Majority on AO3 have the accursed Anti-Might Tags, such as "All Might is a Bad Teacher", and "All Might is a Idiot". These tags are fucking stupid.

Yagi Toshiorni is a damn fine teacher when it doesn't come to OFA, and you can't blame him on his failures at teaching OFA to Izuku due to his Own form of training from Gran Torino being mostly, quite abusive. Effective, but we'll get to that later on (:

Now, the fandom has a big issue with another "issue" involving All Might, that being him "Crushing" Izuku's dreams.

Ah, Ba-ba-ba-Bullshit.

Izuku's dream was already crushed, and had been for fucking Years. If anything, All Might let Izuku down softer than even his own goddamn Mother! He was looking out for a kid who had no special bullshit power in a world where the average person has the power to either crush a building with their Mind, ignite someone from half a kilometer away, or even something mundane as a 8 hour erection, and said world also having a unnaturally high Crime Rate from hell.

And need I break out the List Of Deaths I made a long time ago, using the potentiality of who in 1-A would end up dead if Izuku never got OFA and got into UA? If Izuku tried being a Quirkless Hero, he'd either never get far, or end up Dead. And don't bring the "Give him a gun lol" argument, he's 15 and lives in a country where guns are so damn restricted, that getting one would require getting down on his knees and praying to the Gods above for permission from the HPCS, and Good Fucking Luck doing that as a Quirkless Kid who doesn't have a ounce of muscle to him

~Part 2: Aizawa FUCKING Shota.~ (Warning for mentions of Suicide)

Oh, what to say, what, to, say... Let's start with his failures as a Teacher.

I have done a little research into Japanese Teaching, and from what little I do know, a Homeroom Teacher is meant to be someone that monitors a Student's Clubs, Classes, and other such things. Being a Homeroom Teacher requires the Teacher to be trustworthy and approachable by their students, someone they can trust to bring their issues up to, to do things such as signing up for, hmmm, let's say Counseling.

Well, to put it bluntly, I'd rather trust a Thermonuclear Bomb, The Demon Core, and a Doomsday Cultist in a room more than I would Aizawa.

He is the worst teacher in UA, and I'm not even sure he IS a Teacher! Anyone got any confirmation on if he has a Teaching Permit? Nonetheless, He's not trustworthy around kids, mostly because of his "Expulsion Policy". Oh, Mama, I've got something to say about That.

See, It's a little known fact that Expulsion in Japan is a Very Very Very Bad Thing. Being expelled from even a basic school no-one's ever heard of can condemn you to a life of being jobless, being hated by your family, and being considered a Failure by society at large. It is one of the Many issues that result in Japan's depressingly high Suicide Rates, alongside it's unhealthy family dynamics and work ethics.

Now, imagine being expelled from Japan's best Hero School. Imagine the Black Mark that would get you, especially on the first fucking day! And yes, I know he doesn't fully expel them, but imagine how they feel going home. What if they went home, feeling as if nothing was left for them in life. They couldn't go anywhere, they couldn't get a good job. It's brought up well in MadMystic's Consequences Of Expulsion, where Three Students end their lives due to Aizawa's Expulsion Game.

Aizawa is also a horrific person to have around 15 year olds. He's snide, sarcastic, and a massive Cunt. Also, a serious idiot, seeing as he says that "Bakugou not holding back is a sign of respect", while Bakugou was beating Uraraka black and blue. That is not respect, that is Sociopathy with a dash of Sadism.

Really, the fight should have been called when Uraraka started falling over the first time.

Aizawa is also a idiot in Heroics. During the USJ, he Should have stayed with the kids, instead leaving them to protect themselves and also with 13, who is a rescue hero.

Who isn't dedicated to fighting.

while there was a Teleporter in the area.

Need I say more????

~Part 3: Dadzawa VS Dad Might.~

Oh I'mma get heated...

Dadzawa, as pointed out fairly above, is Bullshit. He's a spiteful dick who hasn't gone to therapy for well over 10 years for a severe loss that molded his entire personality since he was 15, and lets it influence his decisions all the way to the current arc of the Manga. If he were a father, he'd be pretty shit at it. Now, Yagi, on the other hand, would be deadass the best choice for Dad-Of-The-Year of MHA.

For one, he's incredibly caring and noticing, puts other's issues before his own, even when it hurts him, and LOOK at this man and tell me he wouldn't make a dad joke whenever he could.

Folks, if ANY of you use the "Yagi Toshinori | All Might is a bad parent" tag, I hope you step on a Lego for the rest of Time.

~~~~

Well, that's all I got for now. Of course, in due time, I'll make a Part Two, where I discuss Gran Torino's frankly abusive training methods, All Might's mental state, Bakugou being a failure of a human being, and people thinking Izuku is weak and Kochako being a good ship.

Pray (:

#my rants #boku no hero academia #trigger warnings #content warning #CW: Suicide Discussion #Mental Health discussion #Fuck Aizawa #And Fuck the Horse he came in on.

[grendel-menz]

optimistic from now on

#art #my art #comic #poetry #visual poetry #words #diary #journal #ancestors #reflection #pessimism #cw suicide attempt discussion

[faislittlewhiteraven]

Undertale Yellow: An amazing fangame with one glaring thing I hate about it (that I need to rant about or else I'm going to go insane).

As the title says, Undertale Yellow was a game I really enjoyed playing. Lots of fun dialogue and designs, utterly fantastic art and animation (holy hell that Flowey fight! <3 <3 <3), great music and feels, etc. Seriously it deserves a ton of praise, not only as a fully completed fangame that took years of development, but as genuinely amazing prequel to one of my favorite games of all time.

...Unfortunately. Much as I truly enjoyed playing through the majority of the game, when I finished the True Pacifist route I was intensely unhappy with how that went and while the credits scenes and funeral for Cover helped ease some of the worst of it, I cannot help but wonder who the flipping f$%& in the development team thought presenting Clover's suicide as the 'just and happy' ending that all the friend characters accept with barely any argument was a good idea?!

Now to clarify: I went into Undertale Yellow knowing that Clover was going to die and that there were good odds their death was going to be self sacrificial or involve suicide. Undertale Yellow is a prequel to Undertale after all and children being murdered and/or sacrificing themselves for the greater good of lovable monster kind is an established part of the setting.

I came in knowing this game was bound to end tragically. I was excited to see how this game would pull that inevitable tragedy off while exploring the Yellow soul's theme of Justice and staying true to Undertale's established canon.

And all the way right up to the end of the True Pacifist ending I truly thought they'd nailed it: The constant pressure of the monsters suffering and being trapped in the Underground despite their sweet and earnest natures, Dalv's clear issues regarding a human, Starlow's unintentional reinforcement of the 'one sacrifice for the greater good' idea with his trolley problem reenactment, the repeated back to back betrayals from characters who should be friends (the Feisty Five, Starlow, Ceraba) hurting Clover instead, the dull realization in universe for Clover that all their efforts to find the missing human children were all for nothing...

It was fantastic. There was a real sense of looming dread for me, seeing all those moments and just knowing in my gut that after the desperate struggle with the agonized and grieving Ceraba, ranting about how monster kind is doomed as it stands, that Clover would start thinking of sacrificing their life for monster kind, especially when their 'sense of Justice' at the start of the game had them willingly jump into a gaping pit they couldn't have possibly have known the height of, for the sake of mission they (according to Flowey) easily abandon when offered a loving home instead. (aka implying not so great things about how much they value their own life)

So. With all that 'hyped for tragedy' in mind, there I am at the True Pacifist ending. I've just spared Ceraba, the friends are all arguing as to how to keep Clover (and possibly any future humans who fall) safe and Clover begins to go into something of a zone out, thinking about all the things they've heard and seen over the course of their adventure.

This is it! I think to myself as I watch it play out. This is where Clover, after everything they've been through, makes the tragic yet understandable mistake of running away from their friends and confronting Asgore just as Flowey kept encouraging them to! Not to fight and bring Asgore to justice but to try talking him down and when they fail that, offering up their life to help and 'save' their friends even as the narrative will (matching Undertale) will make it clear that this is a mistake and only hurts everyone involved, just like every suicide and child murder in Undertale hurts everyone involved until Frisk is able to end the cycle of pain by rejecting the Kill or be Killed premise and setting the monsters free! Wow, I can't believe it, they set it up so well, what a perfect way to tie into Undertale's greater narrative via tragic prequel, I love this eeeeee!

Except of course that's not what happens.

My first hint something is off is when the quotes Clover's 'remembering' in their little bubble start being way too positive for the set up (also there's nothing from the trolley problem section). The second is when the music shifts from quiet to holy and then outright happy.

And third is when Clover snaps out of it and point blank tells their friends they choose to die. Now, I'm getting a little confused and wary at this but alright, this is a pretty long sequence already but I guess we get to have one final hope moment before Clover somehow gets away from their friends to die (maybe Flowey if not Asgore?)-

-and then I am left absolutely flabbergasted as the friends who just spent the last huge chunk of the game trying to protect Clover/getting talked out of killing them because 'its not right' end up agreeing with Clover's decision after a pitiful amount of arguing against it (where the utterly stupid 'there's no other option' reasoning is used as the primary reasoning despite all the other options being very clearly stated just moments ago), before the woman who's entire massive trauma arc that is centered around her accidentally killing her own child out of blind faith for 'the greater good', proceeds to assist Clover with their suicide (who she clearly views as a surrogate child despite her best attempts not to) while the other characters meekly say goodbye, give hugs and leave all while bittersweet but mostly sweet 'great job honey, this sucks but we're proud of you' music plays (also Flowey says stuff but like, its Flowey so frankly he could say anything and it'd be fine. He's not the issue here).

...Wow.

What a screwed up way for that to end. Like, I clearly get the 'idea' that Clover is meant to be noble and good and such but like, really? A fan game of Undertale (where one of the main ending messages was 'Don't kill and don't be killed', where a child's suicidal attempts to free monster kind lead to every major tragedy in the game, and where suicide was repeatedly shown to only make things worse through Asgore and Alphys in numerous neutral endings) is the game that decides having its protagonist's pointless self sacrifice should be honored and treated as a good ending by the narrative?????

How did none of the otherwise clearly brilliant people working on this miss the very bad, no good implications of Clover's friends being talked into letting them kill themselves and having the narrative frame it as anything but the worst end?????

I have many, many questions. And concerns. And...

Look, I do get it. Undertale Yellow is still a fangame. There are going to be weird notes in the tone due to different writers and such, and I should just be happy that the game was finished it at all, and accept that this god awful scene is probably just the result of its creators really, really wanting their beloved characters to go out as kindly (and beautifully drawn/animated) as possible with all the hugs and feels of canon Undertale without taking into account how much the very different context might warp the tone and the characterizations of everyone in the entire scene.

But like. God damn. There is something very off putting about not letting brave kind Martlet refuse to take this as an answer and then finding she actually can't stop it happening (and no her saying that after like two sentences from 'Ceraba who's judgement about the human sucks' doesn't count). About Starlow not recognising he and his posse might've had something to do with why Clover is thinking this. About Ceraba not on some level going 'IF THIS IS YOUR CHOICE THEN WHY DIDN'T YOU LET ME USE YOU TO SAVE KANAKO?!' Edit: Also a totally waste of prequel opportunity not to let Asgore visibly make the worst choices we canonly know he made on screen. Yes, he gets to stab Clover in the Flawed!Pacist route but Clover's trying to shoot him in that one; the fact we don't get to see him stab a 'far too willing to die for their friends and not defending themselves' Clover as the friend trio can do nothing to stop it from happening feels like such a cop out I swear XD

I'm all for 'Clover dies willingly' at the end of the True Pacifist but they way they did it was just... Really ugh in a way I'm finding tricky to word and I'm honestly shocked I haven't seen more people point it out (though admittedly that might be because I haven't really looked around much). ...So yeah. I know its too late to change said ending but really kinda hoping at some point one of the Undertale Yellow team realizes this might be an issue and thinks to add a content warning in the game's opening or something because it could really use one of those. Also that for any future projects they do, they happen to do a little more research into how to avoid accidentally glorify suicide as opposed to having it as a tragedy because damn they did not manage that here whatsoever.

---

ANYWAY, with all that rant finally out of my head some other stuff about Undertale Yellow I be feeling strongly:

Flowey's boss battle and the lead up to it is incredible and without a doubt makes the neutral route the most amazing well crafted route in the game. 10/10 may have already mentioned this in the massive rant above but if so gonna repeat it anyway because it's just that damn good.

Genocide route being a deconstruction of the 'disproportionate revenge is justice' 90s Anti Hero is very cool theme wise but the lack of the lack of stuff like notes in shops saying 'please don't kill my family' and monsters with less screen time getting more fleshed out drags it down a little, as does Clover not actually choking on dust or getting attacked by the human souls or something at the very end. Really do love the Martlet battle flashback moments and Axel's horrifically timed confession scene though.

The general uselessness of the ACT menu in big 'endurance' fights as well as the lack of 'alternative sparing ACTS' makes fights a lot less fun than they could be and I found myself a lot less willing to use them in general as a result despite them being my favorite thing about Undertale. Did still adore what fun stuff was in them though so I think it's just a case of them being a tad too out of focus compared to the bullet hell gameplay (which I'm not that good at) for my tastes.

Pacifist route could've really used some more optional hangouts and/or letters from the main friends. As is, the peak 'hang out' part of the game for me was the nap room I spent maybe two minutes in, and Dalv especially could've benefitted a ton from a bit more presence (I got more interaction from Mo and the rabbit who's tongue was stuck to a pole and I'm not happy about that? If nothing else not getting to see the inside of Martlet's house or help Dalv build his new home feel like lost opportunities).

Personal pet peeve and nothing too serious but not a fan of Asgore not getting the kill on Clover outside of Flawed Pacifist. Makes sense on most routes (glares at T!Pacifist again) given the way the plot is set up and all but given Toby Fox has repeatedly stated Asgore killed all the humans who fell post Chara it just drives me nuts XD (As does the poor Blue Soul getting treated as a killer/evil but like, I can see where people are coming on that one and Undertale Yellow uses that to amp up Chujin's nightmare fuel vibes fantastically so I shall reluctantly congratulate that theory's use there and steel myself for the inevitable 'wait you're using Undertale Yellow lore but Axis didn't kill Integrity?' questions that will be posted on my 'will eventually be posted' Undertale fanfics XDDDD)

Love all the main cast, especially Martlet, and I am way too hyped for the day Undertale Yellow and its main cast get their own fandom tags on AO3.

...Kanako's death was incredibly stupid and avoidable but like, that's kind of what I like about it? I really also wanna know which Amalgamite she became (I'm thinking probably the one that tucks Frisk in to sleep and pats them on the head because of her and Ceraba's little 'going to sleep' game but like, I could see a very heart wrenching case for her being part of So Cold as well).

Anyone reading this who somehow hasn't played Undertale Yellow should really stop reading this and go play the game. It's free, its (one major thematic issue I have moral objections to aside) pretty decently written, and hey, more Undertale stuff to have fun making fanworks with <3

Goddamn has Undertale Yellow kicked my drive to write Undertale fanfic into overload XD Thank you Undertale Yellow team for helping me get all fired up again and sorry about all the grr but dang it, it needed to be said and now that it's out of my system I can throw myself into finding ways to incorporate your settings and characters into fanworks of my own (admittedly the AU elements might make things kinda tricky -Asgore having to kill EVERY human child even more so- but that nifty little detail of early Royal Guard Martlet having and being willing to abuse her access to the Hotland Lab allows me so many ways to have Chujin be a well meaning awful person and I am living for it!) <3 <3 <3

#Undertale Yellow #undertale #fangame #undertale spoilers #undertale yellow spoilers #tw discussion of suicide and suicide related themes #game rants #constructive criticism (well hopefully anyway) #Fais rambles #I have been hesitating over the post now button for twenty minutes now and I really should not be this nervous. I'm not even rude dang it #oh wait I forgot swearing is rude in some places #cw swearing #ut yellow #uty #uty spoilers

[mourninglamby]

what were ur fav dsmp arcs and characters im wondering 👀

this is a question ive always had a weird reaction to lol. but for the sake of ease ill say exile arc and pogtopia.

i like stories about darker topics that usually pertain to my trauma or that have something to say philosophically. that Tell me something New. ethel cain's preachers daughter and revolutionary girl utena would be some examples of the type of media i moved onto after dsmp.

this is why i would get so angry when theyd prove to the audience that they werent trying to Say anything. but at the same time its complicated and i think the story was told by the actors epistemologically. they had their limits when it came to being conscience of their rhetoric. And I'm not calling them stupid; theyre just normal people who dont think about social commentary a lot.

this story is rly uncomfortable to examine under a microscope or in a bubble, especially considering the allegations against that lying narcissistic sack of pus dream that are still being debated right now. but i think that's what makes me like these arcs even more. maybe like is the wrong word... i am fascinated.

despite what ex fans or dream stans might propagate, exile arc was about abuse. so was the ravine to some extent. it also included characters struggling with ptsd, and very odd yet scarily realistic protrayals of suicidal ideation (sometimes sans trigger warnings until midway through streams or NONE AT ALL ON MAIN CHANNEL VODS). these were handled in a way i doubt any media will ever replicate, and it's not for it's quality of writing, but for how interwoven the people are to their characters. parasocialism probably plays into this quite a bit, but i digress.

i feel like these arcs (let alone the overarching narrative) escape traditional categorization. the only genre i could ascribe it to is theatrical realism for its dialogue and subject matter. but thats wrong too because the events in the story are supposed to be literal, like the three life system and communicators, while simultaneously in Real Life being more.. metaphorical? its hard to explain. it really is a puzzle.

im not very smart, im an art school dropout with years of unresolved issues im still struggling with. but i feel very strongly about this subject. id love to hear what other ppl think about their "favorite" arcs.

Edit : I meant to touch on characters too but I sorta combined that with my discussion of the arcs. So yeah Tommy and wilbur are my fav characters. Short answer.

#ill include other citations later on but it's all my own independent thoughts right now since so many people #are still afraid to post abt this shit #which i get. dream fans are fucking crazy #but so is criticism of any kind in this fandom space #i want to have discussions because if id had them when i was into dsmp iwould not have been so scared #all the time #suicide cw #abuse cw #cw dsmp

[notfromcold]

I did not find Izzy's death ableist in any sense. Before I saw the episode I did have a fear that they would portray him sacrificing himself for the crew because he was "too broken to go on" or some other ableist bullshit. But instead he dies at a point in his life where he's probably happier than he's ever been. That's what makes it so affecting! He has community, he has friends, he's valued and knows it. And all this happened after he lost his leg. His life was not only still worth living, it was more joyful. And he doesn't die sacrificing himself or due to his disability. He dies in a twist of fate during a dangerous situation.

I didn't read him telling Ed at the end that he wanted to go as suicidality. He was bleeding out already. Ed continuing to apply direct pressure to the wound might have kept him alive for a little longer but it was causing him significant pain. He preferred to go a little more quickly but much more comfortably in the arms of someone he'd finally made his peace with.

#ofmd #ofmd s2 spoilers #death cw #blood cw #suicide cw #ableism #but not ofmd being ableist #discussion of ableist tropes in other media

[avelera]

Hob “I’d die for you (because death is the worst thing he can think of)” Gadling vs Dream “I’d live for you (because living is the worst thing he can think of)” of the Endless.

It’s not quite right but my brain isn’t giving me anything else

I think I see where you're going with this, but if I may do a certain flavor of "Yes, and!" and not dismiss this statement as such but dwell on it a moment, because I firmly disagree about Hob.

Gonna put this under a cut cuz we're gonna be dealing with some suicide ideation here:

Because here's the thing, I don't think Hob would die for anyone. Absolutely anyone. He didn't give up on life after his own child died. And here's the thing, I think that makes him very good for Dream.

I don't think Dream should be with someone who would die for him. The reason for that is, I think Dream sees the world in stories, for very understandable reasons, and a loved one dying for him gives him permission to die. I genuinely think he sees his check ins on Hob as seeing if he, Dream, has permission to die yet. If a man who loves life this much gives up on life, doesn't that mean Dream is allowed to? Doesn't that mean there's truly nothing the bleakness of the world won't crush, so the only sane thing to do is leave it, if it can make someone like Hob want to die?

So it is so, so important that Hob never gives that inch. That even if it meant saving Dream's life, in theory, he wouldn't die for him. Because someone like Dream could twist that moment, that story into a justification to die, or to die for Hob. Hob can't give him that inch.

If Hob jumped in front of a speeding car to save Dream, or anyone, he would do so on the certain understanding that it was only because he knew he'd survive. If he thought he'd die, he wouldn't do it, because it'd probably just get them both killed and yeah he'd feel rotten about it but he has lived with far, far worse things on his conscience.

Now, Dream choosing to live because it's awful? That's very interesting. Very interesting indeed. Because that's the sort of shit you can trick Dream with, that Dream can trick his own suicidal brain with, to keep living.

Dream lives in stories. He's a romantic. He would suffer any horror for someone he loved.

Well, Hob would challenge him, will you live for me?

And Dream might balk. It might force him to confront that when he said he'd do anything for love, he wasn't sure he meant that. Which might make him realize there is a limit. That maybe there are things one shouldn't do for love (stay in terrible relationships, for example).

Ok, but if he balks, that means there's a limit, that means he's not a perfect romantic lover. That means he's not just a story. He's a person with limits.

Ok, Hob might challenge him then, but will you live for me? Not because you're a story, but because you're a person, and I want you to live, and I want to be alive together with you. Will you do the worst thing, hardest thing possible for you, and live?

Or, maybe Dream will continue to dress it up in being a romantic hero when Hob asks him to do the most difficult thing, pursue the most difficult quest, weather the most difficult storm, which is live.

And maybe, because these things are not accomplished overnight, because maybe seeing himself as a story was a coping mechanism for Dream that is now hurting him but at one point helped him get through difficult times. Maybe, Dream starts the journey towards wanting to live again on the premise that he is a story and he is in love, and Hob asked him to do the most difficult thing, so he must. And gradually, over time, he finds he does want to live. And the thoughts of death aren't there as often. And the weariness towards the world begins to lift and Hob is waiting there, ready to keep living with him.

#dreamling #sandman meta #this got away from me #cw for discussions of suicide ideation

[firegiftlouis]

I don’t think they’d ever retcon Paul’s death where it’s revealed Louis pushed him off the roof or anything, but I think a retcon like that would undermine one of the major reasons Paul’s death affected Louis so severely.

If Paul had simply been murdered, there’s no reason he still wouldn’t have gone to heaven according to Catholicism (and therefore Louis could take even a little comfort from that belief, regardless of how religious he actually is), but because it was a suicide Paul was damned to hell, and Louis is left with the guilt of believing he was somehow responsible for not only his death but his damnation.

This also ties in nicely later on with Louis’ guilt around Claudia, he believes he’s responsible for her death, and by asking Lestat to give her the dark gift he also damned her to a life of vampirism. Claudia believes she taking over Grace’s role in Louis’ life when she returns to Rue Royale but, at least in this case thematically she actually has more in common with Paul.

#louis de pointe du lac #claudia de lioncourt #suicide cw #paul de pointe du lac #meta #I know this discussion was like a week ago lol but I just had this thought I wanted to share

[pillowprincessvarric]

Fallout 4 allows you to roleplay fun scenarios like *checks notes* uh. Getting named in a guy's suicide note.

#extremely fucked up. i especially enjoyed dez giving you the note in private. saying 'we're never discussing this again' #and then proceeding to lie her ass off in her eulogy. really really good. #suicide cw #fo4 tag

[eriexplosion]

I'm still thinking on Crosshair's arc and why I think a redemptive death wouldn't make sense for him even though it's what several people are predicting, and part of it is still that Cody's words to him, the thing that cracked the glass, was about living with your choices. But also its that I think Crosshair has been passively suicidal for a while now.

In Return to Kamino, after he lays everything on the table to convince the batch to come with him and it doesn't work? He aims his gun at Hunter, but didn't shoot. It's a split second but come on I think we all know he could have shot first. I think he expected Hunter to shoot him. But I don't think he expected Hunter to have the gun set to stun because he wakes up seemingly completely surprised to still be alive.

A couple times in the escape he lingers in place, like he's considering just staying behind and only choosing not to because, frankly, drowning is a shitty way to die. When it comes time to leave he tells them he's staying behind... on a platform with no supplies no shelter no anything. Crosshair is an idiot at times but he's not that stupid, he's fully aware he's taking a course that could kill him.

And in his latesr episode, he shoots a superior officer to avenge Mayday and again seems quite surprised that after it all he wakes up alive.

Do I think Crosshair wants to die? Not exactly. When it seems imminent he's not exactly a fan, but when faced with blaster fire instead of drowning or strangling, I don't think he cares terribly much if he lives. I think he's making choices that intentionally put him in a place where something could kill him.

A death for him wouldn't feel like a noble choice or a fitting end to his arc, it would feel like a man that didn't seem to particularly value his life in the first place, or at the very least not his own dignity considering the shit he lets the Empire get away with, continuing to not particularly value himself all that highly. It wouldn't feel like a closed character arc it would just feel like a win for depression.

#the bad batch #the bad batch spoilers #yes i was reading reddit theories again why do you ask #cw light discussion of suicide #I don't like redemption equals death to begin with but ESPECIALLY not here with him #also Crosshair might be slightly unkillable there's also that

[northern-passage]

cw: mention of suicide

not sure how many of you are into traditional horror games (or more specifically the indie horror game scene)

and while i don’t usually play these games myself i enjoy watching playthrus on youtube and one of the games that circulated pretty recently was MADiSON, as well as martha is dead, and less recently was the blair witch.

all 3 of these games have 2 things in common: they are “psychological horror” and they all have suicide endings.

i hated all of these games. i think if i had to choose, martha is dead is the one i hate the most. but i don’t want to talk about that specifically (we’d be here all day)

it’s very obvious that there’s a trend towards “psychological horror” or as they call it in film for some reason, “elevated horror” and i think it’s fair to say that that’s true for IF as well. i don’t think that’s a bad thing, i like psychological horror, i don’t really have a preference to be quite honest; what i dislike, though, is the demonization of mental illness.

it’s always been a problem in the horror genre, but now i think it’s shifted slightly in a less direct way. i started thinking about this because i was watching a review about the blair witch project game, and she opens up the video talking about the ending, as well as MADiSON’s.

she made some really interesting points that i think are worth repeating. i know up until recently i had a “sanity” mechanic in tnp - it served a purpose, and it still does, but it never really needed to be labelled that way.

the reviewer even makes a comment about how mental health has been reduced to a “bleak soft magic system” - a game mechanic, a setting for people to play around in, a setting where bad things can happen for no reason other than it’s dark and edgy and shocking.

her criticism essentially boiled down to: mental illness isn’t your playground to experiment in, to spitball ideas for your horror game, it isn’t a toy you can pick up and play with. it’s not a game mechanic, it’s something that real people live with every single day. and that really resonated with me and put into words what i couldn’t.

tnp revolves around the hunter and their mental health - it’s an important part of their character, and impacts the way they interact with their companions and the wider world of the game, as well as how they deal with the rot. and with it being fantasy, it definitely blurs the line - is it magic? is it their imagination? is it the rot/their illness? was the hunter the killer all along?

mental illness can be scary. but it’s also manageable. it is not Thee Horror at the end of this book. and i think that’s important to remember when writing some of these horror stories. what is the point of mentioning this here, in this specific story - is it just for shock? is it just to imply and emphasize some imagined horror about the mentally ill? is it just to slap “dark themes” in the description, to grab the attention of some edgy readers? or is it actually serving a purpose in the narrative, offering something of substance beyond “mental illness scary”? beyond “dark and edgy” just for the sake of it?

here is the original video. i haven’t finished it, but the opening 10 minutes is where she discusses the trend of “suicide endings.”

it definitely made me pause and think about how i’ve approached things in tnp, and definitely made me regret not changing the humanity mechanic sooner.

#sorry i Need to talk about this and it's specific to game design and writing so. here you go #also i hate the indie horror scene lately if it's not shitty psychological horror #it's awful fnaf/walten file ripoffs targeting children lol #and for the record i hate the term 'elevated horror' #anyways mental health is definitely a focus in tnp and i hope i can do it justice without reducing it to #'game mechanic' or 'narrative cop-out' #oh i also dont know anything abt this youtuber this just showed up in my recommended; but that discussion just really resonated w me #personal #cw suicide

[sideblogforcrimpy-plus]

Rinse; Repeat

Words: 4,478, chapter one of probably two.

Rated: Handle with care, cw suicidal thoughts/discussion, canon typical violence, hints at abuse/bullying

Summary: Spencer and Derek meet before either of them are in the BAU. Spencer is hesitant as a deer to be close and all Derek wants is to be close (so does Spencer). Spencer is clearly Troubled and Derek just wants to love him softly, honestly. Like filtered afternoon sunlight and sepia filters.

but for real I just, I saw a post that made me laugh and go 'ahaha, unless?' and then sat down uncomfortably on the floor for three hours and wrote this.

For my own comfort/entertainment, Derek and Spencer are closer in age than my recent google search would lead me to believe. Thank (●'◡'●)

---- 2003

Derek was having a truly sucky day. The academy was rough, and as good as he was at all the physical stuff, there were some real smart people and he was so scared that he was all brawn and no brain. Not that he’d readily use the word ‘scared’ to describe himself if he could help it, but he was.

But realistically, he did get this far. So he did have some of the brain, but was it enough? Had he set his sights too high on the BAU?

Still, the doubt and insecurity wasn’t going to have him quit early. Partly because he really, really wanted this, but also partly because what would he tell his family if he’d put so much time into this and failed?

They’d comfort him and say they’re proud; he knows it. But would he be proud?

He doesn’t want to find out.

Dead tired despite the lack of physical training that day, he walked through the house and out to the balcony, only part stopping to shed his jacket and backpack.

The sun was long gone by now, and the stars were too hidden in such a built up area, but he braced himself with his arms on the railing and stretched his neck, trying to relax.

God, how many people even got through the academy each year?

“Chances are, if you’re already in the academy, you’ll come out the other side.”

God?

Had he asked that aloud?

Derek just about jumped out of his skin, training be damned. He was on the top floor and roof access was blocked. He must have made some sort of noise, because the sad, quiet voice came again.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

���I’m not- I wasn’t… Startled.” Derek rubbed his forehead, hoping his voice didn’t sound it; startled. He wasn’t sure he’d heard that organically in conversation, more something you come across in text, in books and things.

“Oh. Sorry for assuming?” The speaker was hesitant, like they’d started apologising before they really knew why. Curious, and not thrilled someone had roof access and it wasn’t the guy (and his sister) who had the top floor apartment, Derek leaned out over the railing and twisted his neck, trying to see who answered him.

Before he could get a glimpse, he heard them step back.

How close to the edge was he? He watched as a bit of rubble fell past him and to the concrete below.

“I don’t think that’s something you need to apologise for, man. How’d you get up there, anyway? I was told we weren’t allowed because they don’t have railings. Or insurance, I think.”

“Well, that makes sense. Although a fall from a five story building isn’t guaranteed to be fatal; you’re better off on the eighth floor for that. But then again, there have been people that survived from even that height so, you can’t really win, can you? If you’re scared of heights or something.”

Derek’s curiosity took a quick dive into concern that sped right down to worry.

“Now I think you got that the wrong way around, better off on the lower floors if there’s no railing, right?”

There was a long pause, and Derek wondered if he’d be able to get up onto the roof in a reasonable amount of time if he had a sense of urgency pushing him.

“Perhaps. Can you imagine the injuries you’d be left with after surviving the fall?” He heard a foot scuff the ground above him and thought he’d started sweating despite the cool breeze. “It’d really suck to not have insurance then, huh? As the building owner, I mean.”

“Okay man, well, that’s a dark topic. And since there’s no railing, or maybe no seats up there either, why don’t you join me on my balcony instead? I might even be able to find a beer or something for you.”

“It’s not safe to go into a stranger’s house.”

“It’s not safe to think about people surviving and not surviving falls while you’re alone on a rooftop, close to the edge, and there’s no railing.”

“Well… Perhaps that’s a reasonable counterpoint.”

And that’s how Derek started becoming friends with a bundle of limbs and greasy hair that hid an incredible but haunted mind.

–

Spencer didn’t have a phone, so he’d just show up at Derek’s apartment intermittently. Well, his and Sarah’s. His mother had put money towards them renting it for the duration of Derek’s time at the academy and Sarah’s short term study since they lined up almost the same, with him likely finding some place more permanent for himself after.

He didn’t do well in the claustrophobic, shared dorms of the academy so would escape to the apartment when he could, and Sarah was completing her course close enough to make the apartment almost worth it. 

It had two shoebox rooms, and they had to share a bathroom, but it still had two rooms so it was a step up from the low bar the academy set. But she was out often with friends, study, and a part time job while he was still largely sleeping at the dorm, so they hardly saw each other.

He’d come back to Spencer hanging out near the block only a couple times; he didn’t seem to like loitering, like he was concerned Derek’s neighbours would get suspicious.

More often, though, Derek would go out onto the balcony and make some sort of noise, and Spencer would respond from above. Over time, Derek was relieved to note that Spencer was usually not so close to the edge as he was the first night.

But most of the time, unfortunately, was not all of the time.

Spencer wasn’t all that interested in drinking, but he was interested in sharing whatever he’d learned about recently. He absolutely did not share much about himself at all.

Despite how private Derek felt as a person though, he found he was sharing quite a lot about himself with Spencer. It was hard not to, inviting Spencer into a place he and his sister were living in though. She’d met him in passing once or twice, and had commented after he left, thankfully, about how shy he seemed to be.

Spencer was a bit like butter from the fridge; he needed time to soften up every single time he came over to Derek’s.

His most recent obsession, to Derek's suffering, had been body farms. After finding out that Derek was studying at the academy (which he was loath to share on account of those ever-present insecurities), Spencer had told him that he was interested in criminal behaviour, among other related things.

Not in a ‘watch true crime documentaries just for the nightmares, apparently’ kind of way, but more to work out the why, and sometimes guess at the how, of everything. He’d dropped stupid time into geographical profiling, in Derek’s opinion, for someone who wasn’t pursuing a career in a related field.

“And they have one, a body farm that is, in East Tennessee. Did you know that they run ten week courses there? Something they’ve done recently is watching for changes in hair for a body left in a car for two months. That’s so specific, isn’t it? Hair changes in a car? Although it’s safe to assume they’re obviously looking for more at the same time.”

“Obviously,” Derek agreed.

Spencer was way too excited for the topic at hand.

Derek continued before Spencer went back to talking about something like maggot life cycles. “Okay, so if I get through to being an FBI agent and I see a body in a car, you’ll be the first person I call.”

“You mean when. I don’t have a phone.” Spencer’s lips had a little curve, like he was self-conscious of smiling still but couldn’t help it fully.

“Right, right. Can you tell me how to summon you then, or will I just have to come here and call out at the roof until you appear?”

Now that was definitely a smile. Why did that feel just as good as high test scores?

The next time Derek was at the apartment, Spencer didn’t show. But there was a phone number written on a paper plane that had been thrown onto his balcony. Three, actually, and one he picked up on the way to the apartment that was stuck in a sad, over-pruned and under-watered hedge out front. How many had Spencer made that Derek didn’t find?

Eleven, it turns out. Spencer was a horrible shot, but Derek liked watching his long fingers folding the paper in what was ‘the most aerodynamic plane folding method’ the next time he was over. It felt a little silly to challenge him on it, especially since Derek knew fuck all about the aerodynamics of paper planes. And Spencer called him out on it.

“Superior hand-eye coordination doesn’t mean your plane folding method is superior, it just means you’re good with your hands.”

Derek wiggled his eyebrows, but continued speaking after he let the flush of Spencer’s cheeks sit for a moment.

“So you want me to throw one of yours, to see if I can do it better with your method?”

“It’s a reasonable request. You can’t test two theories for quality results if the testing methods are different.”

“You’re a sore loser, you know that?”

“You’re an unfair winner, did you know that?”

“So you admit I’m a winner?”

Spencer felt terrible that his next plane hit Derek in the eye, so Derek only milked it for half the time he would have liked to.

Spencer shoved his shoulder when Derek finally caved and laughed, indignant.

“You were playing it up!”

“It’s paper! It can’t hurt me that bad.”

“It did hit your eye. They might be the fastest healing body part, but they’re not impervious.”

“Pretty boy, if you want to kiss it better, I won’t stop you. But you don’t need to worry that much about it.”

Derek saw that sweet rush of colour on Spencer’s neck and cheeks, and the smile he was trying to hide before now took a shy edge as he tried to look casual.

“Well, if I injured you, I should do what I can to help.”

His voice was so quiet that Derek almost missed what he said. He tilted his head in question, raising a brow while trying to figure out if this was more word-based flirting or if one of them would actually take it further for once.

Spencer’s eyes were focused on his fingers, picking at lint that certainly wasn’t on the leg of his pants but held his gaze anyway. His eyes flickered up to Derek’s face though, and his tongue darted out to wet his lips just after.

“Well, you’re the doctor out of the two of us, what do you think I need?”

“I’m not a medical doctor.” Spencer’s voice seemed to be getting quieter, but Derek liked that his gaze was flicking more to Derek’s lips now.

“Maybe so, but I bet you know more about first aid than I do, especially with that fear of germs you got.”

“Me not shaking your hand is normal. The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It's actually safer to kiss.”

Derek almost laughed at how embarrassed Spencer looked at that line, but knew if he did Spencer would think he was laughing at him and might take offense.

“So I should kiss you goodbye when you leave? Doctor Reid, who knew you could be so forward?”

“That’s not what I was saying! I just-”

Derek held up his hands, placating, while Spencer seemed to flap his. “Now now handsome, I didn’t say I was opposed.”

Derek thought he was floating when Spencer, so quickly it was barely a kiss, pressed his lips to Derek’s cheek when he left that night.

–

The next time Derek heard Spencer’s voice from above his balcony, he was almost back to his subdued, distanced self from when they first started speaking. It was over an hour before Spencer let Derek coax him inside. He was shocked when Spencer came to his front door, hair lank and pulled forward to try and cover his eye and cheek that were dark with bruising.

“Spencer, what happened?” He ushered the younger man in, directing him to the couch.

“Nothing. An accident. What were you saying about the fitness test?”

“You’re not interested in fitness tests, what happened?” He tried to bring his hand up to Spencer’s cheek, tilt his head up into the light and assess the damage, but Spencer shied away from him, getting up and heading to the kitchen instead.

“I’m interested in the fitness test.”

“I’m not. Since when are you interested in that?”

“Since you’re the one talking about them.” Derek tried not to feel warm and fuzzy with that comment. Spencer was being genuine, the man was a terrible liar, but he gives away shy truths when he wants to distract.

Derek leaned against the tiny kitchen counter while Spencer turned the kettle on.

“I thought you didn’t have tea at night because of the caffeine.”

“Well, I don’t think I’ll sleep tonight anyway, so I may as well enjoy a tea.”

Derek scrutinised him, wordlessly getting a still sealed pack of decaf tea from the cupboard and putting it down beside Spencer’s hand on the counter.

“You know this isn’t truly decaffeinated? It’s just lower in comparison to other teas.”

Derek stayed quiet and watched as Spencer started to squirm under his gaze. He turned then to face Derek, a frown on his face that softened when he saw whatever emotion Derek’s expression wasn’t hiding. Concern, probably.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t use your behavioural training on me.”

“I thought I wouldn’t feel the need to with you.”

Spencer’s lips pressed into a thin line before he turned back to the kettle, mumbling. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

When Derek put his hand on Spencer’s shoulder, Spencer jumped, then looked guilty.

“Sorry. I don’t-” He looked at Derek’s hand, which he’d pulled back like he'd been burnt when Spencer flinched at his touch. “I don’t mind.” He wrung his hands, nervous or something like it and unable to look at Derek with that soft red on his cheeks again, marred by bruises. “I don’t mind. The contact, if it’s you. But I’d rather not be surprised by it just now.”

“I get it, pretty boy, and I’m sorry.” He held out his hands, palms up, for Spencer to take. Spencer’s hands shook a little, and he’d forgotten to pour water into his mug now.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay, I won’t ask how you got- that.” He jutted his chin to try and gesture at Spencer’s purpled skin while his hands were occupied. “But is what I see all you have, or is there more?”

Spencer bit his lip, watching his own thumb as he rubbed it against Derek’s fingers.

“Spencer, please.”

Spencer shrugged, still unwilling to meet Derek’s eyes.

“It’s not just that. My face. It’s-...” He lifted their joined hands, but didn’t let go of Derek’s to gesture any better. Instead, he pressed their hands to Derek’s chest, just beneath the collar of his shirt, then slowly moved them down and around a little to Derek’s sides. The movement was awkward, but Derek appreciated the tight grip on his hands, and the touch Spencer was initiating, and the information being shared all in the way Spencer was capable of.

“It’s all over, isn’t it pretty boy?”

Spencer hesitated, almost nodding before deciding to try and move on. “I don’t know if I qualify for that. Not normally, or especially now.”

The shy smile was back, and too self-deprecating for Derek. But fighting Spencer on that too strong right now would push him away, so he let some of that anger slide away before he spoke.

“You callin’ me a liar, handsome?”

“No, I think I’m calling you a sweet-talker.”

“But a lying sweet talker, hot stuff?” Spencer pursed his lips as he looked up at Derek, finally, to suppress a smile.

“I’m starting to think you have a biased opinion.”

“I’m starting to think you do too, although on the other side of the spectrum. Why are you so hard on yourself?” 

Spencer squeezed Derek’s hands before letting them go, turning back to pour hot water in his mug. Derek bit back a sigh when Spencer changed the subject again.

“So only two weeks before you’re done at the academy, huh?”

Throughout the night, as Spencer started melting into his more comfortable self the longer he was there, he was less aware of the bruising on his face. It wasn’t until he caught his reflection, or Derek staring, or felt it twinge when he smiled too wide, that he remembered it and grew self-conscious again. That he pushed his hair back in the way of it like if Derek couldn’t see it then Spencer could forget he was injured.

He’d foregone contact lenses and worn his glasses that night, like he did most nights, and Derek thought it might be so it felt like there was another barrier between his bruises and the rest of the world.

Derek wanted to kiss them better, and then all the other hurts Spencer seemed to have. And Spencer sure seemed to have a lot of hurts.

Hurts like how his expression tightened when Derek asked about his childhood, his parents, his friends, or his time at school. How Derek, in the earlier days, made a comment about Spencer missing social cues, and heard a bitter ‘well I can’t pick up on cues if I don’t have anyone to teach them to me’ in reply before Spencer tried to cover it up.

How if he had a particularly bad day, he was so jumpy near Derek that Derek almost wanted to sit on his hands to show he wasn’t going to use them for anything.

How on days when Spencer’s eyes were sunken with a lack of sleep, and the clothes he wore showed how thin he was, and he was so so close to the edge of the ledge on the roof above Derek’s apartment that he thought Spencer just might not care if he fell over the edge.

Like he’d had a lifetime of hurts and still had to face more each day, and Derek only saw little slivers of him and couldn’t learn enough to help him as much as Spencer needed; as much as Derek wanted.

God, he was going to make a terrible profiler.

“Derek?” Spencer looked hesitant, and Derek realised he’d spaced out; probably while staring at Spencer’s bruise again going by how he’d tried to angle his face away awkwardly, unable to fully turn and hide it while looking at Derek at the same time.

Derek couldn’t help it, he just kept on staring. Spencer’s tongue darted out to wet his lips again, and Derek’s eyes tracked the movement. He knew Spencer noticed that, too, by the way his breath seemed to stutter.

Slowly, he shuffled forward on the couch, eyes holding Spencer’s gaze as he did so.

This time, Derek’s name from Spencer’s lips was much quieter, like he was asking for something instead of questioning him.

“Spencer,” The younger man’s eyes dropped down, watching as Derek’s hand came up to his arm; his shoulder. Watched it still as it moved higher, cupping his unbruised cheek. Spencer turned his head, almost pressing a kiss to Derek’s palm as his eyes closed and his bruised cheek was fully on display.

“Spencer, I’ll be gentle. May I?”

Spencer didn’t open his eyes, just hummed in agreement, nosing at Derek’s palm. 

Goosebumps broke over Spencer’s neck when Derek’s breath hit his cheek, and Derek felt him shiver. Careful to avoid the worst of it, Derek skated his lips over Spencer’s cheekbone, pressed them just in front of where his earlobe met the back of his jaw, then trailed them down his jawline.

Spencer tipped his head, allowing easier access as Derek watched Spencer’s fingers grip the couch cushion beneath him. Unsure if it was entirely due to sensation or something going on in his mind, Derek didn’t push further. Using his hand on Spencer’s cheek, he turned the man’s head to nudge his nose to Spencer’s.

“This is alright?”

In lieu of an answer, slowly, Spencer lifted his chin and kissed Derek on the lips. Derek’s chest swelled and he smiled into it, his other hand coming up to Spencer’s side.

They shuffled closer to each other, to be able to press themselves into each other more comfortably. Spencer’s mouth opened beneath Derek’s lips, and he could taste that terrible decaf tea and honey, and the cashews Spencer liked to snack on while reading.

He wondered what Spencer would think he tasted like, the cheap vending machine snacks and the god awful protein water he’d bought without realising it was terrible.

Suddenly, he had the urge to brush his teeth. He made to pull away, but Spencer’s fingers curled in his shirt and his resolve weakened.

Their hands were slowly moving over each other, everything was moving so slowly. Sweetly, like they were learning each other and had all the time in the world. Derek’s fingers found the hem of Spencer’s shirt, and he tugged the man’s lower lip between his teeth as his fingers slipped under the fabric and brushed against Spencer’s skin.

God it was soft, but it felt thin, too. He became scared of hurting Spencer, especially when remembering he had some other injuries too. So he kept his touch light, fingers probably tickling as they travelled further up Spencer’s side as Spencer laughed into the kiss.

Spencer tugged at Derek’s collar, then his fingers slipped around to cup the back of Derek’s neck. Caught up in being able to touch, they quickly moved back down, trailing over his shoulder and down his chest, then Spencer’s hands lingered there. They would have moved further down, Derek thinks, with his hands now pushing Spencer’s shirt up, if it weren’t for his sister coming home.

They didn’t realise until they heard her laugh, surprised.

“Oh, Sorry! I didn’t text ahead, my phone died. Go about your business!” She laughed again, more of a giggle, then her bedroom door clicked shut. Spencer was rigid beneath him - when had he pressed Spencer into the couch beneath him?

‘Sorry, Spence, I didn’t-”

Spencer pushed him up and off, the heat flushing his face more than the usual shyness or what Derek might expect from making out on a couch could bring about. More than embarrassment of being caught, even. He scrambled to get up and right his clothes, walking to the door and scooping up his bag on the way.

“Spencer, wait! Where are you going?” He didn’t want to pull Spencer back by catching his arm, knowing the man wouldn’t react well. His eyes seemed watery and Derek was lost.

And he stayed lost, when, after three weeks, Spencer hadn’t come back. His texts went unanswered and when he called the number was disconnected.

And he kept right on being lost when Spencer didn’t come back to visit him before he had to move out.

–--- 2005

Derek scowled at the scene before them. 

“You’re saying someone was turning people into books?”

The local officer walking them through the scene nodded, nose wrinkled but face otherwise resigned.

“Yup. See, we had a couple people go missing here and there. Transients, runaways, you know the type. And we’d thought they went missing by choice. Sure, we looked,” not enough, Derek thought. “But we never thought they’d end up. Well. As books.”

“As books.” Derek’s skin crawled.

Aside from a specific wrinkle in his brow, Hotch didn’t even look perturbed. “These materials, would they be specialised? Potentially unique or traceable?”

“The tanning stuff? Not as far as we can tell. Out here, we got people doing this the normal way, tanning hides and such.  A lot of leather workers out here. As far as we can tell, it’s basically all the same stuff.”

Hotch looked back at Gideon who shrugged and looked at Derek. “He’ll take a breather now that we found his workshop; he’ll need time to set himself up again. Derek, you’re going to a library to speak to someone about human skin book binding.”

Derek and Elle looked at each other before Derek held his hands out, gesturing broadly.

“We just have someone who knows about human skin being made into books?”

Elle smirked at him. “And you get to visit them. How nice.”

Derek wasn’t thrilled about it, and the feeling that his skin was crawling and unclean hadn’t left since they found the workshop their unsub was using. It reeked in both usual and unexpected ways, and the forensic investigator on scene and all too happily told him that urine could be used in the tanning process.

Perhaps a clean, quiet, library would help in easing his mind, but the subject matter wouldn’t. Derek flashed his badge at the desk, and the librarian assistant he’d found nodded without him needing to explain.

“Agent Gideon called ahead, I’ll lead you through to the doctor now. The books were already here, we’ve held them for ages, but the doctor only arrived recently. Good timing, too, what with this horribleness happening.” She chattered as she led him through shelves, picking up carelessly placed books as she went and piling them up on her other arm.

“Wait, the doctor showed up for the books after the murders?” Derek frowned; Gideon hadn’t called that far ahead, had he?

“Yes, though it’s not his first time here. He’s such a joy to have.” She looked at Derek, then laughed. “You don’t think he did it, do you?”

Derek shrugged, and she shook her head. Then, they stopped outside a room labelled ‘staff only’, and she knocked before pushing the door open.

Derek patted down his pockets for his notepad and pen, then stopped short when he looked up.

The assistant kept talking.

“So this is the doctor Spencer Reid, the veritable specialist on these books. Our Margaret, who usually cares for these books and who we’d recommend you to normally for this, she’s been unwell. But we’re lucky to have Dr. Reid here,” After that, she looked between the two, and her smile slipped into confusion.

“Do you two know each other?”

Derek swallowed, and Spencer barely moved.

“Well, I’ll just leave you two to it, then.” She cast a hesitant glance at Spencer, who nodded to her, and she seemed to take that as a sign it was safe for her to leave them alone.

“Spencer?”

#Criminal Minds fanfiction #fanfic #cw suicidal dsicussion #cw discussion/hints at bullying/abuse #moreid #I am once again asking you to enjoy my 'Spencer Reid doesn't work for the BAU' fantasy #This is Not properly edited and it's the first time I've written in ages #I'll post it to Ao3 tomorrow #too late now #Gotta be up in six hours #Thank #Chapter one of two #I have the bones of chapter two and would usually not post until it is also written bit #It's been ages and I'm excited #cm fic #Derek Morgan #Spencer Reid #Pre-BAU and start of BAU (for Derek) #there's angst!!! #i can write it #sometimes

[coldresolve]

Your post made me think, you said abuse is “slow burn” and torture is “explosion” but what about cases of months or even years of torture? What would that be classified as? Because it’s not the interrogation type.

Wouldnt there be a point where the person is so damaged mentally and physically from the repeated pain and psychological torment that they just give up entirely? If they see absolutely no end? Like they dont interrogate him but just hurt him, out of a vendetta or something like that.

Im asking because a lot of stories i see here on tumblr are not about interrogation but mostly like a… “passion” kinda thing? And although i personally dont really like this whole “pet whump” concent (even writing it down it looks dumb), keeping someone locked for years and conditioning him with torture could possibly grind down a person’s will to basically nothing. It’s my personal opinion and just thinking about it, i feel like it would happen to me if i was in that situation. Like not torture once or twice but for months or years (given the fact that he stays alive of course)

What are your thoughts on that? (And again not pet whump i know what you think of that and honestly, same hahaha)

it would be classified as torture. i'd see it as a very intense long-time burn with a bunch of explosions along the way, i guess, if we're sticking to that metaphor.

fair warning, heavy subject matter: i'm going to talk about a historical case of long-term imprisonment and torture, including some stuff about suicide, sexual assault and executions. im trying not to get too graphic in my descriptions to not sensationalize it, but these were real events and i don't want to take away from how horrific it was, so. idk i guess im still figuring out how to balance those two things.

in 1941, the allies started engaging in conflict with the japanese imperial army throughout the pacific, which, among other conflicts japan had going at the time, resulted in the capture of prisoners of war, especially from 1942-1945. these POWs were held in camps mostly located on japanese soil or in the philipines, but they shifted around quite a bit as the war progressed and the japanese war machine got more organized, so throughout the months or sometimes years of their imprisonment, POWs were constantly moved from camp to camp, with no warning or explanation.

the japanese imperial forces famously viewed surrender as beneath contempt. you can imagine how that belief influenced their treatment of POWs.

you'll read accounts from the survivors of these camps about how POWs were fed rice soup infested with enough worms to move on its own, usually as the only meal they recieved in a day. the kinda shit you're happy to eat because you're starving to death. this wasn't the result of a food shortage, either. it was deliberate, because someone who is starving is less capable of fighting back. as a result, a lot of POWs and political prisoners in japan died of starvation. or, alternatively, disease or infection as a result of sleeping in tight quarters in rooms infested with bugs and vermin, or not having access to clean drinking water. sanitation was nonexistent.

rape of POWs was common. beatings, stimulated drownings, stress positions and other forms of torture, either as an "interrogation" method, punishment, or just for the hell of it in a lot of cases, were common, and often resulted in death. executions were common. the remains of the deceased were often mutilated.

and there's this thing about the cycle of violence...

This added to the rising tide of hatred and racial discrimination of the Japanese people on the home front. Due to the assumed military threat and the inability to verify at this time, 110,000-120,000 Japanese Americans were interned in the western United States. While torture was expressly forbidden by the US government, loss of property and dignity changed the lives of many US citizens of Japanese descent. (x)

but i digress.

when you read about the japanese POW camps, or the concentration camps used throughout the holocaust, or the forced labor camps of the USSR, or any other account of long-term torture, survivors often talk a lot about the fact that the human ability to adapt to extreme conditions like these is staggering. defiance is the norm with torture, and it comes in the face of being treated like someone who is less than human, in every aspect of life. escape attempts, attacking the guards, obstructing forced labor, sabotage, sneaking aid to other prisoners in need, stealing food or other necessities, and the list goes on and on and on. all of these things, at least to me, speaks to a belief in life, in the face of the most morbid fucking conditions you could imagine. human beings are really, really resilient, that's the thing.

and they'll also describe how some people just "gave up". some committed suicide. some just deteriorated rapidly, physically, once they'd lost the hope and will to survive. some collapsed doing physical labor and just layed there waiting to get shot in the head. that happens, too, and erasing that part of reality isn't fair. i don't think anyone has the right to think any worse of these people, or to consider them "weak". despite me being passionate about suicide prevention, i think the decision to die in extreme circumstances like this is understandable, and it's not something i would ever consider a moral or personal failure. this is not a question of being "conditioned". its the conscious decision, sometimes as an act of defiance in and of itself, to avoid being subjected to more torture.

torture destroys. it cannot create anything. and there is no such thing as controlling how it will affect someone. if you're aiming for "conditioning" or "brainwashing" - you can try to break someone down, and if you're successful in making them give up on life, which there's a good chance you won't be, even after years - you're not gonna be able to "replace" that hopelessness with something else. they're not gonna do what you want them to do, or believe what you want them to believe. why would they? they've given up. congratulations, that's the literal only thing you've achieved. and you can enjoy that achievement for as long as it takes them to kill themselves or deteriorate and die.

the effects that torture has on victims vary greatly from person to person, that it's not something torturers can predict, or "direct", or otherwise have any control over whatsoever. it's not just that the list of neurocognitive changes and mental/physical health issues that can be caused by torture is diverse. victims of torture vary in how they conceptualize their trauma, and the people who caused it. they deal with moral injury in different ways. they come to different conclusions about it. and no wonder - fitting something like torture into your view of humanity in general isn't particularly straightforward. a common trend is that torture survivors generally don't tend to speak very positively about their torturers. they might reach a point of understanding, or even forgiveness, after years of processing what was done to them. but this isn't exactly the same as excusing it, yknow. it's part of them healing from their trauma.

if you're interesting on reading about more long-term imprisonment and torture like this, there's a plethora of books out there. unbroken by laura hillenbrand is a biography of louis zamperini, and it specifically deals with the japanese POW camps and the historical context that surrounded them. the gulag archipelago by aleksandr solzhienitsyn talks a lot about the political and philosophical ideas that go into the use of torture and labor camps. a book i think you'd find especially valuable here is man's search for meaning by viktor frankl. he was a jewish psychiatrist and a holocaust survivor. he goes into the psychology both of those who "give up" and those whose hope perserveres. it's a pretty harrowing read, but it's one of those books that can genuinely change your philosophy on life in a pretty deep way.

to answer your question, yes, some people do "give up", for lack of a better way to put it. that happens. suicidal ideation can happen as the result of torture. but it is also not as simple as "it makes you give up eventually", because even disregarding the people who went on to survive and tell their stories - most of the POW deaths i've mentioned in this post did not happen as a result of them "giving up" - they died of starvation, or disease, or torture, or they were executed. people who were just as defiant as the ones who ended up surviving, who still had the will and the want to survive, and who held on to that hope until their last breath. humans are tough. unbelievably tough.

i think it's also important to talk about the whole concept of being "broken" here, because it's a thing that comes up with discussions of people "giving up" because of torture. but this post is long, and you can probably imagine why i don't think it's a good idea to describe human beings as "broken", so.

in conclusion,

take a guess at how i view the ideas that underline the "pet whump" genre. lol just a take wild shot in the dark

#asks #torture discussions #torture cw #suicide cw

[wp-blaze]

Hand Drill 00080-00

This tool is ideal for accurate drilling and boring operations and was specifically designed for use with a self-feeding auger bit. It is compatible with hex shank sizes of 1/4, 5/16, and 3/8 only. Hex shanks of other sizes will not fit properly in this tool. It is robust and built to last.

[defenselesswriter]

thinking about how every doctor, psychiatrist, and therapist i’ve seen have all dismissed my anxiety as a symptom of my other diagnoses (ptsd, adhd, and bipolar) and if they can just get these diagnoses under control then my anxiety will cease to exist.

(tw for under the cut: anxiety ofc and suicidal ideation

i’ve been on anti psychotics, anti depressants, mood stabilizers, and stimulants and the anxiety has never gone or eased unless i take my emergency anti anxiety med…

like these other types of meds have helped! i won’t say they haven’t.

however comma

my anxiety has barely lessened all these years and has, in fact, gotten worse. i’m pretty convinced rn that if i could get that part under control of my mental health, i’d be doing so much better.

literally today i got so anxious about my future/financial problems/life that i got suicidal. and yes that’s definitely paired with depression (which also hasn’t been diagnosed because oh that’s just part of the bipolar!)

and yet i’m going to find a doctor who will yet again dismiss anxiety as a symptom that will go away when treating the underlying cause… i don’t think it’s a symptom, my dudes!

#personal post #mental health #suicidal ideation cw #anxiety cw #i am safe! just so everyone knows. i am okay but it’s just ridiculous #that this so called symptom is this severe for me and no medical professional… addresses it #even when i bring it up and discuss how it’s affecting me

[whump-card]

Sunless Lives Part 20: I Can’t Kill You

The Arc 2 finale! Woooo!!!

~2750 words

CW: vampire whump, discussion of suicide, medical setting, needles, IV

First, Previous, Next, Masterlist

~~~

Matthew's coworkers were stretching their breaks long, talking to each other in low voices. It started at lunchtime. Matthew noticed, but didn’t care; he figured it was some new cruelty the humans were politically inflicting on each other that meant nothing to him. He had better things to think about. Like Simon.

Simon had withdrawn from the world since telling Matthew about Bowers. He no longer wanted to go out, and he gave up looking for a new job. But he was still glued to Matthew the entire time they were home together, so by the vampire’s measure things were going well. Simon was less distracted this way. He had more energy for Matthew.

Maybe Matthew missed it, just a little bit. The way Simon’s face would light up when they went somewhere new. How delighted he’d be when something genuinely piqued Matthew’s interest too. They way he’d be so grateful that Matthew came with him in the first place - Simon still had trouble some days leaving the apartment by himself, after all.

No matter. Simon was hopelessly devoted to Matthew, and that was all the vampire needed.

Right?

Matthew felt something a little uncomfortable stirring in his gut, and it followed him on his way home. Maybe he should take Simon out. Give him a reason to spruce up a little, and to smile. Seeing him smile was almost as good as seeing him cry - maybe it was time for a change of pace.

When he arrived home he was perplexed to see Simon crouched in front of their undersized TV, watching some cable news show.

“Matthew, did you hear?” Simon turned to look at him, his wide eyes and hollow cheeks reflecting the blue of the screen.

“Hear what?” Matthew’s hand hovered at the key rack, still holding his keys. Something in Simon’s voice stilled him. Something was different.

“There’s…” Simon swallowed. “There’s a cure, Matthew. For vampires.”

~~~

They spent the day watching the news. It talked about the VIU’s research, read wordy excerpts from press releases, reworded and re-reworded them, speculated, celebrated, fearmongered. How was this cure arrived at? Would vampires become a thing of the past? Would this cause vampires to lash out? Would this lead people to believe being turned was no big deal now?

Simon’s eyes flicked back and forth between the television and Matthew, nervous and hopeful and terrified. Matthew ignored him and remained impassive, stone-faced, refusing to show any sign that his world was being turned upside down.

He called out sick from work for the week, and they kept watching.

Next came the announcement that captured vampires were being cured, and were successfully returning to their human selves. The VIU kept them in custody for their own safety, of course.

Eventually they had to admit to the suicides.

Over half of the ex-vampires couldn’t reckon with the horrors they had committed while turned, and attempted to take their own lives. The VIU quickly announced plans for massive rehabilitation systems and facilities, to ensure that the cured were not a threat to themselves or others, and would be able to reintegrate back into society - someday. How long this rehabilitation process would take was unclear.

The first interview with an ex-vampire was aired worldwide. She wept with shame.

Simon and Matthew barely spoke to each other for five days. They lived in a nest of blankets and takeout containers on the couch, eyes glued to the TV, drinking in every drop of information. Single injection. Could be weaponized. Number of active vampires dropping. Manufacturing rights granted to the EU. Crates shipped to the third world.

Then: Walk-in clinics opened in major cities. Vampires protected from arrest if they submit themselves to treatment and rehabilitation.

Simon’s eyes shone.

~~~

Simon waited another day. Just to see what Matthew would do. He couldn’t quite read Matthew’s reaction to the whole situation. While on the one hand, he was sitting right alongside Simon, absorbing every ounce of the apprehension, the speculation, the joy; on the other hand, he remained emotionless. Silent. He hadn’t even fed from or fucked Simon the whole week. He was utterly unreadable.

Simon waited, gathering his courage. He finally muted the TV during an ad break - even the most important development of the last half-century couldn’t escape monetization, after all.

“Matthew,” he started, his voice fried from disuse, “You know I would never force you to do anything you don’t want to do, right?”

Matthew glanced at him from where he slouched amongst the blankets and throw pillows, and skipped pointing out the fact that Simon was incapable of forcing him to do anything.

“Right.”

“I would just like you to… think about taking the cure.”

“What for.” Matthew didn’t sound argumentative, or curious, just… neutral.

“Well,” Simon sat up straighter, clearly about to launch into some prepared points, “I know how much you like convenience. Our lives aren’t very convenient right now. We live with a lot of risk. You could be captured. We could be discovered, and forced to move, you’d have to find a new job. And the only jobs that don’t ask questions are pretty shit, which means we can only afford this tiny place - it’s nothing like your old apartment, right? If you were human again, you wouldn’t have to worry about any of that, we wouldn’t have to live in hiding, you could have a real job, maybe even work for the VIU again, and have a nice place to live, go out in the sun…”

“Sounds like most ex-vampires are pretty miserable,” Matthew observed, watching animated cereal dance across the television with glazed eyes.

“But that’s because they’ve done terrible things!” Simon said, getting a little excited, “And you haven’t, you’ve never hurt anyone except other vampires, I kept you from having to hurt or kill any humans.”

“That’s true.”

“Just think about it - your life was pretty good as a human, and I think you could get most, or maybe all of it back! But if you stay a vampire… All sorts of things could go wrong, like I said. And then there’s me, I mean… What if someone takes me away from you? Or what if you accidentally kill me? You’d have to find a new blood source, you’d have to hurt innocent people, and then you would be miserable if you were captured and forcefully cured.”

Matthew’s hands had balled into fists while Simon talked.

“You think I could kill you?” he asked quietly, still staring at the TV. 

“Not on purpose!” Simon assured him, “Never on purpose. But I know you’ve seen it happen on the job. And we had that… close call.”

The news was back. Matthew plucked the remote out of Simon’s hand.

“I’ll think about it,” he said, and turned the volume back up.

~~~

“Simon, wake up.”

Simon sucked in a breath, coming out of his slumber to an unusual silence. The television wasn’t on. He emerged from his blanket cocoon on the couch, and saw Matthew standing over him. The sky outside the window was dark, and Matthew was dressed to go out.

“What -”

“Get your coat and boots on, we’re going out.”

Simon obeyed the order, scrambling to his feet and rushing to put on his winter things.

“Where are we going?” he asked, hoping against hope.

Matthew stared at him evenly.

“The clinic.”

~~~

The clinic would have been an unassuming building if it weren’t for the armed police officers outside. Two flanked the door, and one sat at a folding table to the side with a few boxes on it. They watched Matthew and Simon approach, crossing the slush-covered street, hand-in-hand. The officer at the table stood and waved them over.

“Here for the cure?” he asked.

“I am,” Matthew stated, “He’s human.”

“We’ll need to verify that. Take off your gloves and hold out a finger.”

Simon and Matthew complied as the officer took two testing kits out of a box. He pricked their fingers and pressed drops of blood onto respective testing strips. Once he had a clear positive and negative, he pulled two brightly-colored tags on lanyards out of another box, one red and one blue, and handed them to Matthew and Simon respectively.

“Put these on and don’t take them off,” he warned. “You can go in now.” He grabbed the mic on his shoulder and spoke into it. “One vampire and a human companion, entering now.”

Matthew and Simon put on the tags and entered the building, passing between the officers on guard.

“No turning back now,” Simon said nervously, taking Matthew’s hand and squeezing it. The vampire rolled his eyes. He could take those guys.

Inside, they found themselves in a waiting room with a reception desk. Behind the desk sat a round-faced woman in pink scrubs. Another armed police officer watched them from the opposite corner. There was a door to the left, and one behind the desk as well.

“Hello!” The woman was remarkably warm for someone speaking to a vampire at four AM. “I just need you two to fill out some forms and take a seat, we’ll be ready for you in just a minute.” She set two pens and two clipboards full of forms on the reception desk.

Simon lifted his blue tag.

“I’m not…”

“There’s a form for you too, hun,” she interrupted him.

They picked up the clipboards, Simon with some hesitation, and took a seat. Neither of them spoke as they filled out their information. Simon huffed a little and made long strikes down the ‘no’ column on later pages. Matthew’s form was significantly shorter.

When Simon returned the forms to the woman she thanked him and disappeared through the door behind desk. She returned with a different clipboard just as he was sitting back down, calling them over.

“Simon, Matthew, we’re ready for you now. Follow me.”

They followed her through the door to the left, and it led to a hallway lined with numbered doors. The police officer fell in step behind them.

“I’m Tammy, and that’s Officer Thomas,” the woman introduced herself as they walked, “And no one is going to separate you two, alright? You stay together the whole time.”

Simon smiled up at Matthew, relieved. Matthew glanced at him, but his impassiveness endured.

“You’re right here, in room number five.” Tammy opened a door for them. They stepped into what looked like a large but typical examination room with a sink and cabinets in one corner, except instead of an examination table there was a full hospital bed flanked by two chairs and an IV stand.

“Take a seat wherever you like,” Tammy said, “I just need to ask some questions that you already answered on the forms - I know it’s repetitive, but it is what it is, we’ll get through it together, alright?” Her good attitude was infectious - to Simon, anyway. He and Matthew sat in each of the chairs. The officer squared his shoulders by the door.

“Matthew - you understand that you must submit to both treatment here and at a rehabilitation facility in order to not be taken into custody by the VIU?” Tammy read from her clipboard.

Matthew nodded.

“I understand.”

“Do you understand the risks to your mental health once the cure takes effect, that you may experience anxiety, depression, suicidal thoughts, PTSD, et cetera?”

“I understand.”

“Good. Simon,” She turned her gaze on him, “Are you willing to talk to me alone in another room?”

Simon shook his head quickly.

“No thank you.”

“Alright.” She made a final mark on the clipboard and set it down before pulling a hospital gown patterned with sunflowers out of a cabinet drawer.

“Matthew, you can change into this and lie down on the bed, and Dr. Rhodes will be with you shortly. Don’t forget to put your lanyard back on.” She set the gown on the end of the bed. “Officer Thomas will be right outside if you need anything.”

“Thank you,” Simon couldn’t help but smile at her, “Thank you so much.”

She smiled back, betraying nothing. A true professional.

“You’re welcome, hun.” She pulled the curtain around the door and left.

Matthew stripped quickly, piling his winter coat and clothes onto the chair. Simon bounced in his seat, unable to contain his excitement. But he stilled when Matthew laid down on the bed, frowning slightly at the ceiling and fiddling with his red tag.

“Hey…” he scooted the chair closer, “Are you really okay with this?”

Matthew didn't look at him.

“Can I see your hand?” he asked.

“Mhm.” Simon unquestioningly held out his left hand, and Matthew took it and pressed Simon’s palm to his lips. Inhaled deeply. Then he finally looked at Simon. His eyes were dark and determined.

“One last taste?” he proposed.

Simon nodded without hesitation.

“Of course.”

Matthew tilted Simon’s hand and made a single, tiny pinprick with one fang on Simon’s palm. Then he pressed his lips back to it, swirling his tongue around the puncture. Simon watched him, in awe of his restraint. It struck that Matthew was dying, again, in a way; complicated emotions flooded his gut and he had to blink, hard. This vampire had protected him. Scared him. Taken care of him. Hurt him. Made him feel loved. Almost killed him.

“I’ll miss you,” he whispered.

Matthew lifted Simon’s hand from his mouth and curled it closed around the cut. He pushed it back towards Simon, who took it and held it to his chest like a precious gift.

“Thank you,” Matthew whispered back.

They were both startled by a knock on the door.

“C-come in!” Simon stammered, hiding his hand in his coat pocket.

They heard the door open and a young man in a white doctor’s coat stepped around the curtain, followed by Officer Thomas.

“I’m Dr Rhodes,” the new man introduced himself, shaking each of their hands in turn - Simon thanked God Matthew had just bit his left hand, not his right. “I’ll be overseeing your treatment here, Matthew.”

Matthew nodded, and the doctor continued.

“The cure can be painful, so we’ll be giving you a general anesthesia first, then the cure injection. You should wake up after four hours as…” he spread his hands, “A human! There will be some temporary effects from the cure, such as nausea, muscle aches, and fatigue, but they should fade within a couple days, and we’ll give you meds for the nausea. There will also be some lasting effects from the vampirism. Your teeth will remain as they are, unless you choose to file them down - we have a list of practices that are offering that if you’re interested. You may suffer from anemia, and sensitivity to sunlight. And it varies from person to person but we’ve been seeing some lingering… attachment to those you may have preybonded with. Any questions?”

“Let’s just get this over with,” Matthew said flatly.

“Sounds good to me!” Dr Rhodes forced out a nervous laugh. There was a knock on the door and he jumped a little.

“Oh, right on time!”

Tammy entered, wheeling a small cart with an IV bag and a capped syringe on it. She and the doctor both donned gloves, and Dr Rhodes approached Matthew slowly with the IV.

“I’m going to start this now, and it will knock you out,” he said, hanging it on the stand, “I need you to stay calm and take deep breaths.”

Matthew took a controlled breath, but suddenly twisted his head to the side.

“Simon-!” He reached out.

Simon grabbed his hand and clutched it, the hot blood on his palm pressing against Matthew’s skin. They locked eyes.

“It’s okay,” Simon soothed, “It’s going to be okay.” He found tears welling up in his eyes. “Just take deep breaths Matthew, it’ll be over soon.”

Matthew kept his eyes trained on Simon as the doctor inserted the IV and started it, scanning every inch of his human’s scared, hopeful face. His jaw flexed and clenched and he squeezed Simon’s hand so hard that the human gasped.

“I love you,” Matthew breathed.

“I love you,” Simon’s voice cracked as he put every ounce of feeling into his words.

Matthew stared at him until he couldn’t, until the darkness overtook his vision and his jaw went slack. Even then he clung to Simon’s hand like a lifeline, needing to hold onto him just a little longer, just a little longer.

Just a little longer.

Just a little longer.

~~~

First, Previous, Next, Masterlist

Taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy, @pigeonwhumps, @sunshiline-writes, @seasaltandcopper

#whump #whump fic #whump writing #sunless lives #sunless lives arc 2 #vampire whump #cw discussion of suicide #cw medical setting #cw needles #cw IV #my writing

[avelera]

Had a kind of interesting realization while working on the next chapter of Giving Sanctuary of how supernatural Hob actually is.

When juxtaposed with Dream, he comes cross as a normal human, but by 1689, the man is over 300 years old. That's roughly 3-6 human lifetimes at least (and on the longer end of the scale!). I can't even imagine having 3-6 whole human lifetimes to learn and grow as a person.

I had a moment when he was being philosophical about grief or insightful about Dream's inner torment--ie, realizing things like, "holy shit Dream you are so clinically depressed and from such an abusive upbringing it is unreal, and it makes all your buttoned up repression and strict adherence to The Rules make so much sense even to a man who grew up in the Middle Ages"--and I had a moment of like, "Am I making Hob too wise here?"

But then I thought about it and, here's the thing, I do believe Hob can have huge blindspots (like the "shipping" business) and not be a person who naturally tries to get ahead of the world on morality, he's pretty in lock step with the mainstream, male, middle class person of his time and place. But the man has been a father. He has certainly had many lovers and friends.

So giving him 3-6 lifetimes of insight into, say, taking one look at Dream and thinking, holy shit, this man is deeply depressed and in need of someone to help him break out of a self-destructive spiral, and it's very likely he had shit parents and a chaotic home life that led to coping mechanisms that made him functional but not healthy - like the aforementioned strict adherence to "the rules" and not realizing that his pain and grief had made him self-centered as a simple survival mechanism.

And Hob, because I headcanon him as experiencing a lot of grief from losing loved ones (like, literally all of them) but having had a fairly loving upbringing and again, the emotional intelligence of someone who has raised a son to adulthood and been part of society for 3-6 human lifetimes, can in fact spot these things and I think can in fact be pretty wise in ways Dream kind of isn't as far as diagnosing Dream's damage and maybe having actual solutions for it, and the only reason this doesn't happen more in canon is because Dream doesn't tell Hob anything and the one time Hob correctly diagnoses just how miserable and lonely Dream is, Dream flies off in a rage so again, canon evidence that Hob is emotionally not a dummy, and might in fact be incredibly wise as literally an ancient supernatural being that would be the most magical person anyone would ever meet if he wasn't in the same room with Dream of the Endless.

So anyway, expect more penetrating insight from Hob with regards to the "opposite of a suicide pact" he and Dream made with each other in Ch. 4 (we're going to live and be happy, dammit!) because I've put a lot of thought now into "Am I making Hob too emotionally intelligent here given his background and canon appearances?" and determined that, no, actually. In fact, someone who has lived 3-6 full human lifetimes by this point has every right to be more emotionally intelligent than "the entire human subconscious in a trenchcoat" if "the entire human subconscious in a trenchcoat" has been in a clinical depression coma for 3,000 years or more, ffs.

#cw discussions of suicide ideation on Dream's part #sandman meta #1689 fic #dreamling #hob gadling

[king-of-men]

So at first I thought that diving into a vat of molten gold would probably be a bad way to suicide, because burns are very painful and not immediately deadly. Gold is very dense and you would not sink into it, you'd float on top - humans can float in water, molten gold is 17 times as dense. You'd bounce. (Actually if you jumped from high enough up it might not be any worse than jumping onto concrete.) And then you'd be thrashing around as though on a frying pan, waiting for the heat to finally penetrate to a major organ and kill you. And even then you probably need it to be the brain; sure, cooking the heart will kill you but not, like, instantly. There'd be enough oxygenated blood in your brain to keep you conscious for the twenty very unpleasant seconds until the heat finally got through your skull.

But then I thought that molten gold is very hot and my intuitions about heat flow might not work very well. Humans are basically water, and dropping water onto a thousand degrees with the thermal mass of gold doesn't so much boil it as instantly evaporate it. You're not going to be "covered in very painful burns", you're going to be "an expanding mass of steam", and the nerves that would report the damage are going to be vaporized. Though you probably do want to ensure you're going quite fast for the final meter or so where the air is plausibly flash-fry temperature more than instantly-evaporate temperature; air doesn't have the thermal coupling to skin that gold does either.

So yeah I end up on thinking it might be a practical suicide method after all, supposing of course that you happen to be a Roman emperor with easy access to enough gold to fill a large vat, and a need to melt it so as to dump it into the caves below your palace where the torture-worshipping enemies currently breaking your palace walls will never find it. Not to mention the fuel to heat all that thermal mass, in a city that's been besieged for a year. If all you have is a large frying pan you might want to try the lengthwise-not-crosswise thing instead.

#follow kom for more practical life advice #cw suicide discussion

[ecoamerica]

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#ACLA24 #ACLA24Leaders #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental justice #environment protection #environmental health #Youtube