#my psychologist said to put words to my emotions and I'm TRYING but all I can do is write about thoughts

[sonicattos]

Ok I apologize for how long this is but I read your post about npd and I have some thoughts I want to share. First, yeah that screenshot is gross and ableist. With ya on that. Making fun of someone for having a disorder is wrong, full stop. Also, I agree that it's wrong to call someone narcissistic just because they're abusive. Not all abusers are narcissists and vice versa.

HOWEVER. Many of the symptoms of clinical narcissism relate to how people interact with others. And the reason they are regarded as "symptoms" is because truly narcissistic folks relate to others in an abusive way. If people with narcissism did not typically display abusive and/or manipulative behavior they would have nothing to be diagnosed with.

I'm a victim of abuse by a narcissistic person. (Notice I don't say they have NPD. I'm not "armchair diagnosing for sympathy" here.) That person was not simply abusive for no reason. They were abusive BECAUSE they had narcissistic traits such as having little regard for others. I genuinely fail to see how saying this would be hateful or ableist. I can tell that you feel very passionate about this, but as someone who has been on the receiving end of abuse by a narcissistic person, I feel that your post is implying that this kind of abuse doesn't exist, or worse, that people who say they have suffered it are making it up. I know there are a LOT of people who throw around the term narcissist and don't know what they're talking about. But there are also people who truly have been abused by narcissists. And they're not lying for attention.

Don't feel pressured to respond and I apologize for the wall of text. I just have strong feelings about the subject and wanted to share.

1) please don’t take words from my mouth. i never. EVER. said that the abused are making up being abused. i come from a very abusive household that i STILL live in. my mom and my sister used to fucking beat me. i was starved. i was denied any medical help for illness. im isolated. i was groomed into believing that i was more mature than i was and wasn’t treated with the care a child could have. i was and still am constantly told how useless i am and how my mental/physical issues are my fault. my parents never cared and only did things that benefit themselves. i would never deny that someone could hurt someone and i never had. jesus fucking christ.

2) i study psychology. i know i can’t just prove that by saying it but you have to take my word for it i genuinely look deep into this stuff, as it’s a special interest of mine. you come from a place of ignorance of the situation as a whole. never call someone with “narcissistic traits” (aka abusive traits) a narcissist. it’s a medical term. again. call it what it is: abuse. there are other ways to describe that abuse than labeling it as such. narcissism is supposed to be a neutral term to describe traits of npd, not how someone is acting.

3) no. you don’t have to be abusive to be diagnosed with npd. there are many symptoms and tendencies that come with the disorder and it’s also a spectrum just like any other disorder.

npd describes a disorder of someone who has an inflated self-importance. besides putting others down to lift themselves up, they can also try to lift themselves up in a way that’s unrealistic or may seem “prideful”, try getting other’s attention by doing something good or dramatic. narcissism comes from a place of abuse from their elders, either emotional neglect or lack of teaching of responsibility. it affects those who lack empathy or even other mental illness’, which again, doesn’t mean you are an abuser or a bad person.

how would they get diagnosed? perhaps they’re hurting themselves. maybe they have constant breakdowns for not getting attention. etc. a dramatic event of abuse doesn’t have to happen for a psychologist to figure out someone has npd.

4) the entire point of the post is to tell fucking people to stop using a word that they learned on the internet and didn’t look up what it meant maybe besides the fucking saneist articles vilifying narcissistic people instead of educating one what the disorder actually is.

people with npd deserve sympathy as much as any other person. they deserve help and awareness as well. narcissism isn’t a word to pass around like table salt. it’s a real thing that people suffer with. they’re hurt. they believe if they don’t do something that they’re not worth anything. yes a lot of them become abusers because people who are abusive have most likely been abused. but not every person who’s been abused is abusive.

#saltcat text #ask box #long post #saneism #sanism #ableism

[daidonzo]

Chapter 13 - Come love me [Chishiya x Reader]

You sat on the floor of Chishiya's room, your legs crossed, a pen in your right hand and a white piece of paper in front of you.

"What was what Kuina said again?" The blonde man asked, eyebrows raised.

"So, you have to draw a tree…" You started to do so. You drew roots, a trunk with a hole in the middle (there was a squirrel living there, but you were definitely not an artist and chose to leave that detail to the imagination of the viewer… Until you thought better about it and painted an arrow pointed at the hole, writing the world squirrel next to it, because not everyone would reach the same conclusion as you). "And the way you do it is supposed to tell you a lot about yourself."

"I see. Do you know you stick out your tongue when you concentrate on something?"

"Yes. Inheritance from dad."

He smiled, but you couldn't see it, fully invested in your painting as you were.

You had spent the day hanging out with Kuina and Tatta, Chishiya having been in an executive meeting for most of it. The Hatter had left for a game a few hours ago, having to finally renew his visa and you guessed he probably wanted to make sure everything would be okay during his absence.

That was when Kuina had told you about the tree-drawing theory, something a therapist had explained to her long ago.

And, since life without a phone or streaming services or a beautiful blonde man by your side was pretty boring, you had decided to try and psychoanalize yourself. Chishiya had entered the room when you were about to start.

You kept drawing, adding leaves here and there, but because it was autumn, most of them were on the ground. In your head, it all made sense.

"Finished!" You exclaimed, lifting the piece of paper and showing it to Chishiya.

He examined it for a few minutes, clearly amused.

"It looks like a tree." He declared, solemnly.

"Yes, I know! But what does it say about me?"

"I already told you, I'm not a psychologist."

"Well, but think! Give me your honest opinion."

"That you like squirrels?"

"Not really. They are fine. I just think everyone has a right to decent housing."

Chishiya's brown eyes focused on you, and for a moment, he turned serious.

"You really are fascinating."

"Was it the trunk that told you that?"

He chuckled. You laughed out loud.

"I think it doesn't work when you don't have the answers. Like, what does a hollow trunk were a squirrel lives mean? The fact that most leaves are on the ground?"

"I don't know."

You sighed, left the pen on the floor and climbed to bed with him, putting your face next to his to take another look at your drawing. And because you enjoyed proximity.

"It still is a work of art."

"If you say so."

You opened your mouth in surprise, pretending to be outraged by what he was saying.

"Are you implying my art is not good?"

"You want an honest answer?"

"No. Lie to me."

"Deserves to be in a museum."

You burst into laughter, dropping the act. You actually did not feel offended at all. You knew painting and drawing were not among your talents.

"You can keep it. So that it reminds you of me, just in case."

"As if I needed anything to remember you."

But, as he said those words, he folded the piece of paper in half and placed it on the pocket of his white hoodie, which turns out you had not ruined with your little emotional outburst from before, because tears dried and left no stains. Good to know.

You smiled from ear to ear. He couldn't have said anything better.

"You look happy."

"I'm so happy I could sing."

Chishiya frowned, slightly. "Didn't know you liked singing."

"Well, I was not really serious, but I do like singing. You have heard me many times."

His half smile told you he was about to mess with you, but nothing could have prepared you for what he said afterwards.

"Ah. Yes, what was it? Holding hands won't be enough…?"

"In a world giving head to a gun."

Your cheeks flushed red when you answered. You had sang that song the day you were hanging out after holding hands for the first time, as a way to discreetly tell him you were desperate for more physical contact. How did he remember? You thought he hadn't been paying you attention.

You felt mortified. So you did what you knew best - kept talking.

"It's from a band I like. They have a lot of love songs. They are like rock n' roll but like rock n' roll for when you like someone. It's romantic but not too sappy. Or well, it is sappy but in a very artistic way. Like poetry. Like… Well, the song made me think of you, so I just sang it. I was trying to express myself."

"Do you have any other songs you would like to dedicate to me, then?"

"You are not about to get an a cappella concert from me, especially not for free."

"I'll give you something in return."

You were about to say no, never in a million years, that maybe in his dreams you would… But you didn't. Because while a part of you was scared of actually confessing your feelings to him, another actually wanted to say many, many things that you couldn't put into words that easily.

"Okay, there's one. I usually would also play guitar while singing, but you are just going to have to imagine. Don't laugh. I said I liked singing, not that I'm any good at it. I'm also not good at playing guitar, or any instrument. Like, I'm not awful, but I'm not particularly good either, not by any means." You kept going, nervous as you were. You took a deep breath and…

Here lies a heart that feels Touched by fire, howling at the moon for you Caught in dusk, heartstrings out of tune From the abyss pirouette my way back to you Come love me numb Come love me till it hurts Dance the neon noir with me Come love me

That was awful. You had closed your eyes while you were singing and were almost afraid to open them and find him laughing. But you still did.

And he was staring at you, expresionless. And for the thousandth time, you wished he was a tiny bit easier to read. You felt like you were drowning and he was just looking at the water instead of helping.

He placed his hand on the back of your neck, making all the hairs on your body stand on end, pulling you closer.

And his lips were on yours.

The kiss lasted no more than a few seconds, the shock of it giving you no chance to react properly to it. A million thoughts running around your head, how wonderful it had been, how worth the wait, how you wanted many, many more…

"I feel like a siren." You whispered, remembering the mythological beings, half bird, half beautiful woman, that were known for their bewitching voices and that lured sailors to their death with their song.

You almost wanted to punch yourself right after. That's all you had to say after a first kiss!?

Chishiya laughed, luckily finding the comment a lot more endearing than you did.

"Like I said, you are fascinating."

#chishiya x fem!reader #chishiya x reader #chishiya fanfic #chishiya angst #chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya x y/n #chishiya x you #chishiya fic #aib chishiya #shuntaro chishiya #Spotify #as much as you want

[the-bar-sinister]

In Justice We Trust (139488 words) by thesavagesabretooth

catch up here

With Simon Blackquill and Athena Cykes assigned as their psychologists, the Phantom and Fulbright must grapple with their identity, their deeds, their future, and their love for the twisted samurai whom they betrayed.

All the while, Edgeworth and Wright find their relationship tested as they walk the narrow path between pursuing real justice, and the dark age of the law.

-

December 25, 4:25 pm

They had some time to kill before Pearl would arrive. Simon and Halblicht had gone to speak privately for a moment in another room, leaving Athena with the nervous Apollo. Or maybe Clay. he was bouncing his leg under the table again.

Athena tucked her hair over her ear with a quiet smile. 

“Holding up okay, guys?"

She was admittedly a little nervous. All this ghost stuff sent a muffled wave of emotion through her, along with the memory of her mother’s face. Pearl the spirit medium was going to prove whether or not Bobby and Kelso were literally haunting their own killers; prove if Apollo’s close friend–more than close friend– had fallen into his body after the wretched way he’d died.

And maybe, if she was lucky, allow her to look her mother in the eyes for the first time in 7 years.

"I'm okay," he murmured. His own nerves seemed to match hers. "I was just trying to decide something…"

Athena leaned on her hand, looking at him with a curious tilt of her head. “Maybe I can help?”

"It was if I should ask Pearl not to say anything about my own situation until we get back to the hotel. it seems like… a lot to deal with at the police station. Either way that it goes."

Athena nodded. “Yeah…that’s a good question.” She reached out to pat his shoulder. “It's gonna be a lot either way, I’m sure. I guess it just depends if you wanna rip the bandaid off or not.” 

He sagged against her hand. "What about you? You're not going to ask to talk to your mom here, are you? Or are you? I guess that would be a good way to prove Pearls' abilities…"

“I…I dunno. I’ll admit I’m kinda scared to.” Athena said with a gentle smile. “But it’d prove it nice and easy if she could manage to channel mom. So I may bite the bullet and do it here.” 

Clay– or Apollo– took a deep, shuddering breath, and stared up at the ceiling. "Alright. If you do it here, I'll do it here, too. Rip the bandaid off, like you said."

Athena let herself fall against his shoulder, 

“Then we can recuperate back at the hotel. Everyone’s probably gonna need it.” She laughed weakly. “Man, how do you think Interpol would handle it if it turned out their dead agent wound up in 24’s body?” 

"I donno," Apollo shook his head. "I donno how I'll react. Do you think they'll throw a party or a funeral?”

“I…I think it’d be kinda sad if they held a funeral for someone who had to attend it, maybe? I mean, even if she’d probably still be handcuffed or under observation…I know I’d be kinda bummed out by it?” She put her hand on her chin with a furrow of her brow. “...or find it hilarious.” 

He leaned on his hand thoughtfully. "I guess if it turns out to be the case, they can just ask her."

Athena laughed, running her hand through her hair. 

“Yeah…though if that is her, she seems a little…mixed up with 24. Confused. In a mixed state.“ 

"Well I mean, you saw me– us?-- before you suggested the idea, right?" he murmured. "It's not normal to have someone else in your head. It's not the first conclusion you jump to when you start having weird feelings and thoughts."

Athena smiled delicately at him. 

“Exactly. It feels like a stretch until you really think about it. And it’s not like it’s the sort of thing most people come to on their own right away.” She gestured vaguely towards the door “...especially if you’ve had all understanding of any emotion at all beaten out of you.” 

"Yeah. If it's the case– and I'm not saying it is for any of us– but if it is, I guess I have some sympathy for her."

“Me too....emotions aren’t easy when they don’t come naturally.” She smiled a little and leaned on her hands thoughtfully. “I’m genuinely curious…I don’t know which answer would be weirder.” 

"Me either. Guess we'll have to see on the other side."

There was a hesitant knock on the door.

Athena looked up suddenly and called out almost without thinking. “Come in!!”

The door opened, and Pearl Fey slid in. Though she was only two years younger than Athena herself, Pearl always projected a youthful energy that made people guess her far younger, and the same quality was on display today as she crept into the room and straightened her robes.

"Hi Ms. Athena. Mr. Polly."

Apollo put on a warm smile for Pearl, even though Athena could feel his anxiety spiking. "Hey, Pearls."

Athena flashed her a bright smile, trying to ignore the way his anxiety bounced through her own system.

“Hey Pearl! Man, am I glad to see you!” 

"Good to see you too! Mr. Nick said you needed me! Oh, and that pretty agent lady said she was going to um, "drag detective prime time and mr. modern samurai" in here in a minute. And something about a prisoner?"

"Kelso. Or 24. or whoever," Apollo nodded. "Sorry for throwing you in the deep end here, Pearly."

She shrugged and smiled. "I'm kinda used to it. Um… can I ask what's up though?"

“....Detective Prime Time” Athena murmured with a shake of her head. The nicknames kept evolving, but somehow she suspected she’d always be ‘Miss Edutainment’ to the woman.

“Yeah ah, so we’ve been investigating a murder up here in Cauli…two dead interpol agents, while on the trail of an espionage ring. Only the Interpol agent sent to guide us was killed and replaced by one of the ring’s ‘assets’...people trained in a horrible facility to be used as weapons. We took her captive after figuring out she’d replaced Agent Sam Wan Kelso, and now she’s in custody– that’s Number 24…but she’s agreed to cooperate and help us!”

Pearl chewed on her thumb, listening, and nodded for Athena to continue.

She smiled nervously at Pearl. “...which is why we need your help. She knows things she supposedly shouldn’t…and we want you to do your spirit medium thing to see if we can confirm if there’s a supernatural hand in all this…with her, and with the man we used to call The Phantom. ...and maybe a few other ah, situations, too. Ghosts all the way down, Pearls.” 

Pearl opened up her mouth and closed it a couple of times. She looked at Apollo, and then at Athena again. "Um. The Phantom… that wasn't… the guy who was at breakfast with you and Mr. Simon this morning, was it?"

“Uh…” Athena held her hands up with an awkward but cheery grin. “Most people aren’t really supposed to know that, but yeah. That’s him. Robert Halblicht’s the name he chose for himself, though.” 

Pearl chewed on her thumb again. "Oh, I see. Um. Wow this is… super weird…"

Apollo had gone silent, just listening.

Athena’s smile twitched “....did you ah…already notice something about him, Pearls?” 

There was another sharp knock on the door, but they didn't wait for permission to enter.

It was Agent Ash, flanked by Halblicht– who was straightening his tie– and Simon, whose hair looked a little bit more askew than usual.

Athena felt her face flush red, and decided it was polite not to comment. Instead, she gave them a flustered thumbs up “Hey! Simon, Halblicht…great to see you guys! Hello Agent Ash!���

Sheila smirked, barely stifling a snicker. “Sorry for the delay, Miss Edutainment. Your compatriots decided to pass the time in their own special way.”

Agent Ash wasn’t nearly as polite as she was. She turned a deeper shade of red and smiled awkwardly. 

“Sool. So uh, Simon, Halblicht…Pearl’s here!” She gestured towards the other girl “which means we can get started!”

She could feel the waves of embarrassment coming off of Simon, and Bobby– more off of Bobby, than sSimon who it seemed was more than just pretending not to be affected by it.

Sheila turned her attention to Pearl with a wink. 

“Thanks for making sure neither of them wandered off to get into trouble, young lady.” 

"Um… no problem," Pearl nodded. She fidgeted with the charm around her neck. "So, what would you like me to do first? I heard its kind of um, a complicated situation…"

Apollo glanced Athena's way.

“W..well.” Athena’s nerves hammered in her heart, the internal discord drowning out everything else as she took a breath. “If you need to prove it to Agent Ash, you’ve got the powers you have…I h-have a possible request that could prove them.” 

Pearl cocked her head. "Oh? Um, I'm happy to prove my powers if you need me to…"

Athena took a deep breath. “...would you be able to channel my mother, Metis Cykes for me?”

Sheila leaned against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest, watching intently. 

Pearl jumped, and covered her mouth. "Oh gosh, Miss Athena… your mother? Um, of course I could… you have a picture of her?"

"If she doesn't, I do," Simon said, from the corner where he was standing with Halblicht. "But are you certain that's what you want to do, Cykes-dono? Here and now?"

"I mean, it's not like I can only channel people once or something," Pearl murmured, playing with the sleeve of her robes. It wasn't clear whether she was actually trying to be heard or not.

“I..I can always ask for a more private audience later.” Athena said with resolve, glancing towards Simon with a nod “This is very much what I want.”

She reached into her jacket pocket where she found her wallet, and tucked inside it, a folded up photograph. “alright…I just need to give you this and you’re good?” 

Pearl nodded. "I just need a name, and a face and I can channel somebody. Um, as long as they're actually dead. And not currently being channeled by somebody else. If they're being channeled by someone else, I can't do it."

.Athena noticed that Simon and Halblicht shared a glance.

“You can’t do it if they’re being channeled by someone else…” Athena tilted her head “does that include Possession?”

She unfolded the picture and glanced down at it. It was a photo taken not long after the official one hanging in the Space Museum…but this one had her in it, leaning near her mother as if trying to hide. Her mother’s face was crystal clear, smiling gently towards the camera as her hand rested atop Athena’s head.

She glanced at Simon, grimacing a little with a shrug. 

"Um, I actually don't know…I haven't run into many possessed people before," Pearl murmured. She held out her hand for the picture, and then looked over at Agent Ash. "Do you want me to summon her in here, or somewhere else?"

"Unless we need the suspect involved, I hardly see a reason to move," Simon said. He glanced at Halblicht who had moved closer to him again.

Sheila tilted her head. “It’s best not to alert the suspect until we perform the test on her. Just in case, it’s better if it’s a surprise.”

Athena bit her lip and nodded. “Here’s good. Everyone here needs to be for proof, or …or support.”

She realized she’d started shaking, and shifted to hide it by hugging her arm to her side. 

Someone touched her back, and she realized Simon– and Halblicht too– had come up next to her. "Athena– if you're not ready for this, Fey-dono could summon literally anyone else."

“I’m fine.” Athena said with a tense smile. She let herself lean into the reassurance and closed her eyes. “I know this isn’t going to be the last time, and…and I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather summon than her.” 

Simon squeezed her shoulder. "If you're certain, Athena. Then the rest of us will bear quiet witness to your reunion."

Halblicht offered her a rather shaky thumbs up.

Athena returned it, her own hand shaking just a little before she stilled it.

“Thanks, Simon…The support is nice to have.” 

"You have it. Always." The two of them stepped back, giving her space.

Apollo stepped in beside her instead, and Pearl looked up from the picture. 

"Okay… I'm ready for this when you guys are. Miss Athena? Miss Agent Sheila?"

Sheila gave Pearl a little salute as she snapped her compact shut again “Please. I’m looking forward to having my worldview shaken more than it already has.”

Athena laughed a little at Sheila’s remark, before she fixed her hair and nodded. 

“I’m ready.”

She wasn’t– part of her wasn’t sure what she’d say, and she was sure Widget was flashing every emotion under the sun as she stood there smiling like a cheerful fool and waited to potentially come face to face with her dead mother.

Everyone in the room stood around Pearl in a loose circle; Sheila, Simon, and Halblicht further back, and she and Apollo at the forefront.

"Alright." Pearl put her hands together and smiled. "Good luck everybody."

Her fingers flicked in quick succession and she seemed to mutter a prayer. Athena felt all the emotions that she could sense from her go dead suddenly– and a strange aura filled the room. A tension, and expectancy.

Her heart nearly stopped at the sudden drop in emotions, the air felt heavy and strange as it weighed down upon her. An involuntary step back was aborted, only for her to stand nervously tugging her ponytail with the smile frozen on her face.

In a blink, the tension eased, and in that same blink– Pearl Fey was no longer there. 

Metis Cykes stood in the center of the circle with her hand upon her chest over the folds of unfamiliar clothes with a pensive frown etched on her face. 

There was a hiss of air behind her. "Cykes-sensei," Simon breathed, seemingly involuntarily. Athena felt his wave of emotions crash on her.

“....Well I’ll be damned in the court of Justitia…” Sheila murmured. “It's actually real.”

Metis’ head turned upwards in a slow and deliberate motion, a smile forming on her lips for the briefest moment before Athena was once more assailed with surprise.

“Simon…what in the world happened to you?” No sooner did she ask , than her eyes fell on Athena and her rictus smile. “Oh..”

“H-Hey mom!” Athena projected the joy that weakly pulsed in her own heart, lost in the ever rising volume of the emotions around her– she kept the hot, coiling feeling of anxiety pushed down and smothered instead of daring to let it show. “Mom…I..I know this probably a lot to take in…”

Metis placed her fingers against her forehead, massaging just over her nose with a quiet smile. “Athena dear…you’ve grown quite a bit, haven’t you? Which means…I’ve been dead for some time. Haven’t I?” 

"Your presence has been dearly missed, Cykes-sensei," Simon murmured, dropping into a little bow. "We're sorry to impose on you in this way."

Apollo, beside Athena, was shaking. He had started to hold himself again, and Athena could tell that he was desperately trying to hold his emotions in check as this proceeded.

Metis held up her hand with a musical chuckle “Don’t worry about that, Simon. Death is a lonely sea of cognition. If I’m honest, any opportunity to escape it I’ll be happy to take.”

She walked across the circle towards Athena, and Athena felt the swell of positive feelings from inside her even as her face remained composed and thoughtful. 

“I didn’t think I’d really get to see the way you’ve grown, Athena.” She reached over, and pulled her daughter into a tight hug. “You’ve even outgrown the headphones we made you.”

Hot tears stung Athena’s eyes as she half fell against her with shaking shoulders

“Momma!” Her voice hiccuped, caught on her tears for a moment as she tried in vain to compose herself. “A l-lot’s happened, m-mom…things were really bad for a while but it’s gonna get better.” 

There was a hush over the room as the two of them reunited. Athena could hear the sound of Simon who was badly holding back his tears. Apollo– or perhaps Clay, or both– was shaking. Robert must have been present, because from him at least she felt a comforting glass pool of nothing.

Metis rubbed Athena’s back, letting her daughter cry against her as Athena tried to compose herself. The emotions of the room swirled inside her, her own rose and swirled within the ambiance …

Strangely, the glass pool of nothing was a comfort, allowing her own emotions to reflect back to where they belonged…flowing along with the tears as she looked up at her mother’s quiet smile for the first time in 7 long years…since their fight over her headphones.

“I can see that a lot happened, Athena.” Metis gave her a firm squeeze before she leaned back to look over the faces assembled with an analytical stare that Athena and Simon knew well. She was taking into account everyone in the room…listening to their voices and the sounds of their hearts, making judgements.

She spoke again, with her hand delicately atop Athena’s head. “...where are we? Is Aura around? This doesn’t look like the Cosmos Center.” 

"Aura isn't here, I'm afraid, Cykes-sensei," Simon explained quietly. He wiped his face with his sleeve. "And we are quite far from the Cosmos Space Center. Your daughter has become a fine defense attorney, and we are currently investigating a case with some supernatural elements. You've been summoned– much to our pleasure– as a mere demonstration of our medium's miraculous skill."

Athena nodded against her again, taking soft and hiccuping breaths as she wiped her face .

“I solved the mystery of your death,” she whispered, “but…but that’s a story for another time, mom. For now, I’m sorry she’s not here…and I’m sorry to have pulled you from th–”

“Death is a dream, Athena.” Athena felt the sting of sorrow and pain in those words. “It’s not a hardship to see the light again and to see how far you’ve all come since I've fallen asleep.”

She raised her hand to her chin. Just like Athena, her mother could be quiet…pensive…often keeping her emotions tightly wrapped within herself to the point that some saw her as cold towards everything but her work.

She and her mother had always shared the need for a mask between them and the outside world…it was no wonder Metis had kept a collection of Noh theater masks along with the other mementos of her heritage.

“But a case with supernatural elements, you say? Like that whole affair on TV with that Iris girl and the birdish lawyer? Pigeon Right, or something, yes?”

Athena’s smile grew performatively awkward. “Phoenix Wright, momma. He’s my boss.” 

"Our boss, actually," Apollo murmured, the first time he'd said anything at all. "But yeah. Just like that. Had to prove it was real."

Metis’ gaze turned towards Apollo for the first time, and she blinked. 

“...Justice, right? Apollo Justice. You used to play around the Cosmos Center all the time with Clay Terran, didn’t you? It’s a regular reunion, it seems!”

Athena hugged her tighter. She was sure it was obvious, both to her mother’s keen ears and to the eyes of everyone watching…she knew it would only be a short time, that it wouldn’t be forever.

She didn’t want to let her go and push her away, not again.

Metis noticed, gently rustling Athena’s hair with a furrow of concern on her brow. “You know. I heard a lot about the talents of spirit mediums from my own parents. The Ayasato clan in Japan, which became the Fey clan here in America. In a way, it feels like I’m a part of history being channeled through one of their number.”

She smiled wryly “Instead of just being history.”

The black humor drew a loud and swiftly aborted laugh from Agent Ash off against the wall…enough to snap her out of her dull and staring stupor. 

Simon laughed darkly, and shook his head."The same old Cykes-sensei. I see your humor hasn't passed away, at least."

“No, my dear protege. It wouldn’t be the same if it gave up the ghost. Or if the ghost gave it up.”

She let the joke hang there in the air with the barest laugh into her sleeve. Her mother’s famously dark humor and her academic and passionate love of Japanese history, space and psychology were a number of the things that had endeared both Blackquill siblings to her ever since she could remember.

Athena couldn’t help but laugh weakly herself. “Mom…”

Sheila had already broken down into a snicker .“not just a pretty stiff, a funny one too.”

It seemed she’d already gained another fan.

While the others were laughing, Apollo said, "We don't actually have anything specific we needed to ask you, Ms. Cykes. If you'd like to ask us anything, or if you'd like a moment alone with your daughter…"

“Ah…” Metis’ slight smile fell. “of course…”

She closed her eyes for a long moment of silence before she spoke. “Just one question..Then I may want some time with my daughter. I’ve got who knows how many years worth of telling her how proud I am to catch up on.” 

"Of course, Cykes-sensei," Simon said. Athena could feel his tension rise, though his voice was even to any other ear. "Anything."

“...” her expression smoothed into something quiet and placid, but Athena felt the low simmer of emotions inside her mother’s voice as she spoke again.

“Did we manage to launch our Hope for the future? Did it come back safely, despite my death?” Her eyes glanced down at Athena “...It wasn’t all for nothing, right?”

Tears rolled down Simon's face. "It wasn't all for nothing, Cykes-sensei. They made a movie of it, even. They called it a miracle."

The tension inside her relaxed, and she looped an arm around Athena’s shaking shoulders. Athena felt tears welling up in her eyes as she looked up at her mother.

“They did.” Athena sniffed softly. “...and Mr. Starbuck is even set to go back into space soon for another mission. It all really, really was a miracle.”

Metis chuckled. “...a miracle, hm?” It was…That stone. The stone I died for, and the hope of more like it from the probe…it was because I knew it would do wonders in the field of psychology and robotics.”

She leaned down to tap Widget with her fingertip. 

“It’s unique mineralogy was the special component that allowed this little dear and my darling Ponco and Clonco their ability to read emotions…the component that allowed me to make those headphones for Athena and help my suffering daughter and those like her. Hearing that all wasn’t lost is a weight off my spirit.” 

Athena heard Halblicht breathe in, and she felt a tremor of emotion from him– truly barely perceptible over the din of the others.

"I'm truly pleased to be able to carry the news to you, Cykes-sensei. I hope it will bring you peace."

It made a twisted sort of sense. Of course her mother had fought so hard for that rock, despite the man trying to take it from her. It was for her research– and for her. Tears fell down her cheeks again as her mother continued.

“No.” Metis held her hand up with a weak chuckle. “It brings me joy. I’m not ready to be ground up in the wheel of reincarnation just yet.”

Her hand gripped Athena’s shoulder protectively “I’ve still got unfinished business. I certainly can’t flit off to the next life without saying goodbye to Aura, at the very least. Save the wishing me peace for a little while yet, protege.”

Athena hiccuped again. “Oh.” 

Simon's breathy voice carried another wave of mingled sorrow and joy, and he wiped his eyes again. "Of course, Cykes-sensei. I should have known."

She smiled, and dipped into a deep bow. 

“I hope you’ll come knock knock knocking on the door to the afterlife for me again, to wake me from the dream. Maybe, when that time comes, lay me out some tea and perhaps some katsudon. Hang up a few streamers. Tell Aura to please show herself from whatever hole she’s working feverishly in. Maybe give me someone to scare.”

She rose and took Athena’s hand, “I’d like to see you all with smiles on your faces.”

“P-promise mom.” Athena said, making a show of a bright smile. “...promise. Next time we’ll make it a real celebration.” 

"You have my word, sensei," Simon said, also smiling as the tears ran down his face. "We'll throw a party."

#metis cykes #apollo justice #athena cykes #bobby fulbright #simon blackquill #ema skye #trucy wright #pearl fey #blackbright #phantomquill #ace attorney #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #archive of our own #ao3 #fic: in justice we trust

[seasidepierre]

i loooved ur curvy reader fic bestie🥹 im plus size myself and loved how happy and empowered u made the reader seem , different from a lot of the other curvy/plus size reader insert fics ive read before , great job from u !!!🫶🏼 i do think it’s not ok though for some anons to be calling the other anon things like “rude” for being upset over the fic as their feelings are still valid ! and i think it’s a shame the original anon hasn’t come back to explain their feelings where u/other anons could have given some advice as it seems (from not a professional psychologist at all lol) that maybe there are some self esteem or body issues and this brought them to the surface 😢 also i hope u are doing ok , don’t let this get u down too much , messages like that often come from something within that person that they are unhappy with and something has brought that to the surface , i wouldn’t take it personally , and i hope this little blip hasn’t put u off writing because u are very very talented !! 🥰❤️❤️

Thak you so much for this bestie, you have no idea how much this means to me this morning. I've been racking my brains trying to comprehend and maybe, as you said, it's a very personal things that the first anon is going through and we won't ever know.

Yeah, I think they were entitled to their emotions and feelings, I'm nobody to tell them to not be angry at something I said or did, I can't just tell someone to not feel what they feel. I think what the other anons were about is that I believe the first person could have worded it better or offer a bit of an explanation. It pretty much felt like a "You're problematic and the fact that you can't see why is even worse" but without telling me anything more.

Not gonna lie, I planned on writing today and right now, I haven't written a single word. It has put me down a bit, I kinda feel like a fraud and like people would be better without reading me 😬

It'll pass, it's just because it's recent and because I'm a people pleaser, so it hurt me more than I think it should have..

#ask

[shebrakesforrainbows]

What an incredible shock that a grooming victim would then go on to exhibit behaviors and traits they were groomed into believing was normal. It's almost as if victims of longtime abuse who are ALSO neurodivergent would not have a fully correct sense of morality and would display things they have not learned are wrong.

All you've done is prove you just have no fucking respect for victims who don't fit your fucking mold. Going so far as to make up and pedal full on fake terms just to pad your case out? And some of you want to be psychologists? Not with that attitude girl!

Psychologists are trained to deal with all kinds of people and are specifically told to never take a black and white approach to any situation. An actual psychologist would have identified the manipulative language and approach taken to this situation instead of sacking down and just believing it at face value. An actual psychologist would have recognized the blatant emotional, verbal, and sexual abuse going on and said something. An actual psychologist would have been able to point out the lines upon lines of lies.

You need to realize the world doesn't revolve around you and your specific depiction of grey morality, buck the fuck up, put on your big kid pants, and do some actual research. Research that doesn't just pertain to the information that you want to see. Because surprise fucking surprise, someone getting upset that you verbatim told them "I don't care that you were groomed" isn't abuse!

The absolute disrespect. You don't care about victims. You care about your image. You and every single one of your flipflopping ass friends. This was never about your "safety". This was never about "protecting people". You've all individually proven time and time again through your words and actions that this is about the hunt for you. It's about who can make who look the absolute worst but haha surprise it's gonna be you because I'm Twitter famous and my yesmen do everything I tell them to lol!

The camera really doesn't fucking lie. The fact that you are so desperate to have someone living in fear beneath you is so beyond abusive and sickening. It's a sign of how genuinely abusive and power-hungry you are. I tolerated years of emotional, verbal, and sexual abuse from you all, your ringleader and my ex especially, convincing myself I was the bad one because of how volatile and unstable you were, satiating myself with the very miniscule affection I ever got, and I fucking refuse to ever be your toy again.

I'm actually fucking baffled right now. The gall. The goddamn audacity. Using a traumatized disabled victim of grooming as your means to pedal a victim narrative so you don't feel bad about your own actions? That actually makes me sick. Knowing that I was ever this vile, that I ever acted the same way you all did, and did it with a smile, that I found it funny is unbelievable to me.

I'm setting up a consultation with a lawyer as soon as financially possible so that I may receive the correct guidance as to poke holes in every single surface you try to lay out. On that note, I advise you to leave my friends alone, leave me alone, and to get off the internet to find an actual life outside of trying to run smear campaigns online. I've moved on and it did fucking wonders for me. As my last piece of good-spirited advice to any of you, before the small part of me that still somehow cares and wants to see you go down a better path than I did withers and dies out, GET A LIFE. Disband your little shitshow of a "friend group" before you all turn on each other like we've done so many times in the past and get some real friends. A friend who is willing to conspire behind someone's back for two months whilst remaining inconspicuous at face value once is someone who is willing to do it again for the sake of getting what they want.

And to my followers and mutuals who have had to endure me talking about this, I apologize sincerely for any discomfort I've brought you. From this point forward, I will be severely limiting any posts about these particular subjects. I will not respond to any form of retaliation to this post or any further smearing of my person. My life is not a game and I will not continue to treat it as one for the sake of making my abusers happy.

I would wish you the best and claim I have no ill will, but I cannot lie. Not like my ex blatantly did to my face that night. My life is better without all of you in it, but I can guarantee judging by how obsessed with me you are, your lives are not better off without me. I also can't bring myself to say that I care. We stopped seeing eye to eye the night you all chose to use me as your punching bag and made me afraid for my life.

Goodbye.

[latina4rmbx]

Am I Lonely or Am I Bored?

I want to put a disclaimer here because of my followers who read this, will know I'm referring to them, if I am in fact, referring to them. I won't say your name(s), I promise.

So here's my dilemma. I am single. No, that's not my dilemma, bare with me. I already feel this is going to go off on a tangent, but I'll try to reign in the scattered thoughts.

A friend of mine asked me why don't I get my degree and go into therapy. HAHAHAHAHA, not that I NEED therapy (I'm sure I do) but that I should become a therapist. I've said this before, but it should be repeated.

I explained that I have no degree and if in fact I do return to school to become a therapist or psychologist, if I had to start all over, I'd be getting a degree at 50 then having to intern and do a residency (because if I'm going to do therapy, I'm going to do it BIG). That's too much time, I don't have and too much money, that I also don't have.

Not saying that I can't do it. I could, but the thought of going back to school turns my stomach. Even and especially on line. I have never actually done on-line classes and I know for an absolute fact that I'm an in-class learner. Not stadium seating either. I like small classes, I sit in the first or second row, ask questions, pretend I understand what I'm saying...so on and so forth.

I mention this to remind you, because I haven't in a while, that my people come to me for advice, even though they know for an absolute fact that I do not have all my shit together. It's appreciated. Honestly.

So a few of these friends have been fairly low when they contacted me and they have told me the same thing. When I say they, I DO mean more than 1 person and on more than 1 occasion. I'm not exaggerating for effect, I promise you. I'd tell you.

The theme of these conversations seem to be loneliness. They have all told me they are lonely. I listen and I explain to them that they're better off lonely than being in horrible relationships where they aren't appreciated or loved the way they should be. I have told every single one of them...I can't relate.

Here's the friggin' kicker, because they have emotionally poured out to me, I tend to sit with the conversation and just consider what I should've said that might've had more tact (I'm definitely not an expert) or maybe I should've said something and didn't. Whatever the case is, I tend to rethink some of the things we converse about. Please don't think that I say things meanly and what you say doesn't affect me. It does, I just don't hold on to it nor internalize it. It's not my burden to bear.

I digress!

As I am considering these other people's feelings, I tend to place myself in their shoes. When I do this, not only do I place myself in their shoes with their experiences but I also put myself in their shoes with mine. Let me explain!

I put myself in their shoes and I wonder if I should be feeling the same. Do I have a damper on my emotions where I refuse to feel loneliness?

NAH!!!

So let me explain. Think of being lonely. You have no one to speak to. You have no one to go out with. You have no one to cuddle with.

Guess what, being bored makes you feel the same.

It still poses the question: Am I bored or am I lonely (or however I posed it above).

Let me look for the definitions of both words to see if there is some sort of correlation I can make between the two to explain myself.

Bored: Feeling weary because one is unoccupied or lacks interest in one's current activity.

Lonely: sad because one has no friends or company

Can you see the correlation? I hope so, at present, I do not have the presence of mind to explain it. I can see the string that connects them but it's so difficult for my mind to articulate what I want to say and for that I sincerely apologize.

Back to me (shoo). I think we need one morek definition before I go on.

Weary: Feeling or showing tiredness, especially as a result of excessive exertion or lack of sleep.

Ok, i had to add weary to this list because I wanted to make sure that it didn't mean something similar to sad. No, what I wrote above wasn't the only definition, but the others don't mean sad either.

Ok, now really back to me. I put myself in their shoes and then wonder if this is how I should be feeling?

If I tell you how many times I've had to tell a person that I love myself, like truly and deeply love myself you'd ask why. Are you asking why now? Ok, you pulled my arm. I've said it because I truly love my own company. I love driving alone with the music loud and the windows down. I love sitting in bed reading a book alone with my thoughts. I thoroughly entertain myself, but at times I get BORED.

I wouldn't mind sharing some time with another human being, but I'm truly an empath and i draw others feelings into me. They may feel better, but I need to rethink about the conversation and what's making me feel empty, sad, angry, etc and then let it go.

Remember I said I don't internalize anyone else's BS? I guess that's sort of true. I don't internalize other's BS for long. I feel what I need to feel to fill my cup and then I let it go. There are times and situations that are a little harder to let go, but trust me, if I can compartmentalize my own trauma, I can compartmentalize yours.

Someone might say, but Sadness, that's not letting go. Trust me, I say it that way, but I definitely let it go because what I can really do? I am limited in the way I can help you. I started asking: Do you want Fluff or Tough?

Wanna know a secret? I'm not great with the fluff (SHHHHH)

But in all seriousness, there isn't much I can do, but I can listen, I can advise and then I do this...this is my speciality, I ask heavy questions. I ask "how does that make you feel?" because sometimes I need to understand how that experience is making you feel. It how I best pull my advice.

But I ask the heavy questions, more introspective questions. What did you do to cause that? What is it about you that you're allowing that? What is it you don't see within yourself that is causing you react in this manner?

The best thing is I think I'm so smooth, I tell them "you don't need to answer me now. Think about it and get back to me...or not". Is that douchebaggery? It's probably douchebaggery and I'm sooooo sorry.

But yes, I don't know the answers to those questions above. Only you do and only you can answer them. Just like a therapist, I'm not here to give you the answers, I'm here to help you draw out the answers yourself. You need to do the work. I'm doing the work.

NO, i'm not in therapy. Yes, I need it. Eventually, I'll get to it. At present, THIS is my therapy.

So am I lonely or just bored? If i'm honest, I'm sometimes one and sometimes the other and I'm absolutely ok with that. I love myself for being self aware enough to realize that. Like I said, I love my company and I give pretty good advice so giving myself pep talks and advice and strategies for the day...I mean who could be better?

Well familia, I'm exhausted and I should go to bed. Goodnight!

XOXO

Thanks for reading

[journalofsorts2]

i want, more than anything, to be normal, to be average. i want to have normal teenager problems. i want to be from a loving family. i want to have a group of close friends. i want to be able to stand looking in the mirror. i want to be able to be like everyone else. being unique is so fucking overrated. why couldn't i have normal parents? i've talked about my mom a bunch already, she's emotionally abusive and narcissistic and doesn't even realize she's the problem because she's too busy living in her own fantasy land where all her children love her and nothing is her fault. and i've lost my relationship with her (not that i want it back), that bridge is burned and she is very much not interested in rebuilding it.

but i feel like i never talk about my issues with my dad. on the surface we have a good relationship, but below i've been festering with all these issues i have with him. i would bring them up, except for the fact that when i started getting more vocal about my issues with him he got loud and angry despite the fact i was trying to have a calm conversation, and i can't do loud and angry, i shut down because i have ptsd, and i've tried telling him that but he saw it as me dismissing his feelings which i wasn't trying to do and so he got more loud and angry and so i stopped bring things up. but one of my main issues with him is that anytime i talk about problems i had growing up it's always my mom's fault. and don't get me wrong she did a lot wrong for me growing up, but my dad was there the entire time, he was there watching her make those decisions, not stepping in to do something. and y'know that thing people say, something about how sometimes being a bystander is just as bad as being the person doing the bad thing? that's how i feel about this, he was a bystander for all the bad things i went through growing up. he stood there and watched it happen. but i can't bring that up with him because he has a fragile ego. if i try to tell him he's the one who did something wrong, and it's something serious, he gets defensive and dismissive. but he was there for the good things, he was there for all those good memories and my mom wasn't. but i just can't help but feel like i wasn't good enough to save or something. like he just didn't care about the emotional abuse my mom put me through to step in and help out. i just feel like i wasn't worth the effort. but i know for a fact i would get yelled at so much if i expressed this to him. if i told him how much his inaction hurt me. and then back when i sort of first thought i had adhd or something (years ago now) i brought it up with him two times. the first time was in a car ride and i got absolutely dismissed. the second time i pushed harder and he yelled at me so much, he told me how there couldn't be that many things wrong with me, he yelled at me asking me what i wanted him to do about it, and when said i wanted to get tested he just about lost it. flash forward to now and my therapist says stuff about how i might have a sensory issue and i brought it up with my dad cause my therapist wants me to get accommodations at school, my dad seems perfectly on board and i thought it was because i made sure to specifically not bring up adhd or autism or anything, but when we have the meeting with the school psychologist or whatever, he seems perfectly open to the idea of me having adhd or autism. i asked him about it after the meeting and it almost turned into a fight had i not been very careful about what i say. i feel like i'm him talking to mom. he talks to my mom very carefully, chooses which battles to fight or not, picks his words very carefully, walks on eggshells. and i feel like that's me talking to him about serious stuff. he's a fun dad, he's capable of being there for all the fun and good stuff but when it gets hard that's where i have to learn to rely on myself.

i just, i hate so much coming from a dysfunctional family. i hate not being able to have a reliable parental figure. i hate how much i raised myself. i hate not being able to remember the good times with both of them, because they don't exist. i hate it all. i just want someone to be there to comfort and protect me. is that really too much to ask for? am i really not worth that much? idk this was too sad for me, i'm going to sleep now

#journalofsorts rants

[beyondthetemples-ooc]

I said I had a doctor appointment today, and that’s really only half true. It was a psychologist. Therapy.

And because my relationship with my emotions is Severely Fucked, and I’m experiencing A Lot of emotions but like, At a Distance right now (because of the health insurance nonsense), I told her that I was trying to connect with my emotions and like... stop feeling like I’m holding this huge part of myself at a distance?

I mercilessly suppressed and attempted to eliminate my emotions from the age of 8 years old until about 19. It was all self-directed and involves everything from Personal Taste to Constant Trauma to Nexus Weirdness, so I didn’t really get into Why with her, because I hardy get into Why in my own mirrorbook... but she made some suggestions.

And chief among them was writing them down.

So, I’ll try. To write about something, you have to.. let it be? Experience it? Know what you’re experiencing so you can figure out how to translate that experience into words? But I... can’t get over the part where I Mercilessly Side-Eye My Emotions.

I’m REALLY good at writing my THOUGHTS down. But feelings? What the fuck’s a feeling? How do you write about those? I can write at length about physical sensations, streams of consciousness, and Feelings But Vicariously, like through a character in fiction. But.... writing about my OWN emotions?

And I do mean reflexive, because the thing about reflexes is that they can be taught, honed, and trained into something Instinctive, even if it goes against the initial pre-training instincts. You practice something often enough and you get into the habit, and that habit becomes a reflex, something you do without thinking, immediately, automatically.

That’s how unwinding my emotions is. I feel something, I trained into myself the instinct to Shut It Down. Not just smothering it; not bottling it up. Literally convincing myself I didn’t feel it. I legitimately induced dissociation until the emotion calmed down. I would “coach” myself, talk myself down from it. I would analyze it to death, talk to myself in simultaneously self-soothing ways and convincing myself something didn’t matter enough to get upset over. I took the instinctive Anger and Sadness of a self-preservation instinct and turned it into detachment, training myself to defend myself with logic, rationale, and disinterest instead.

And I legitimately felt better for it, that’s the wild thing. I didn’t feel suppressed, I didn’t feel “the emotion building up”, I didn’t feel hurt or sad or frustrated. I felt... better.

But the thing is, I learned that in order to turn off my anger and fear and sadness, I had to turn off my joy and excitement and desire as well. I really do mean I tried to excavate ALL emotion from myself.

Though, when I was alone in my room, longing and sadness would trickle in, because... not to get all Teenaged Angst in here, but I felt like other people didn’t understand me. My stepmother constantly put me down for it. I would read a comic page about Raven angsting over Not Experiencing Emotion, and tears, unbidden, unforgiven, would prick my eyes, because gods, I knew what she meant, and I knew why it hurt.

Around age 16, I started feeling like I was almost forbidden this Essential Part of being human. It simply Wasn’t Safe for me to be emotional. I mourned, quietly, secretly, and briefly, that I didn’t understand how others would get so swept up in emotions that they’d cry, and then feel better for it afterwards. How they could just... feel something, and not fight themselves to manage it. Because this self-training was a constant struggle. Even after it became reflexive, my nature, between ADHD and PTSD and depression, is actually quite emotional. Quieting, soothing those parts of me that wanted to rage and sob my heart out and squeal with delight. Wouldn’t I look so foolish if I just burst into laughter and didn’t stop smiling all day? From such a high precipice of feeling, wouldn’t it hurt that much more when the stepmonster inevitably shot me down? And then, if I started crying, I’d never stop.

That was always the real danger: the emotions in me just wouldn’t stop. I’d learned that from a very, very young age. The real danger of feeling was the experience of the emotion itself, because if I let myself become emotional, it would feed into itself and grow so consuming that Nexus shit would go wild and it would suck me into a self-propagating vortex of nightmarish panic until I was so swept away that I’d lose myself.

So all emotion had to be monitored, limited, controlled. I still felt flickers of emotion, don’t get me wrong. But I never wallowed, rather hardened those emotions into icy determination. I trimmed the parts that got frostbitten away and turned my thoughts totally towards action. I mastered myself. I conquered my emotions. I disciplined my thoughts into feeding Betterment rather than Wallowing.

And there’s always a part of me that longs for the freedom to feel, to express that vortex. Controlling my emotions felt... right, but also wrong? Not like I was missing a part of myself, exactly, because the soothing and distancing still came from my own mind, and my desire to Live In Hard-Won Contentment Rather Than Pain was my choice, and that choice, that decision, became a force of nature. 

It wasn’t just for my sake, either. When I’m angry, I lash out. When I’m depressed, I’m inconsolable and drag others down. When I’m joyful, I’m reckless. (Not to mention, mirrorbook incidents. Weird shit happens when I get emotional, like REALLY weird shit.)

So... how do you unwind a habit that protected you, and others, for so long?

It’s... Emotions are strong, okay? They’re big. They’re scary. Especially in the past 5 years, there haven’t been a lot of Good ones. And the bad ones Hurt. I don’t want anything to do with them.

But logically, I know it’s healthier to let yourself experience emotions for awhile. Move through them. That’s what everyone in the org says. That’s what mindfulness says. That’s what behavioral treatment says.

But also logically, I know that the emotional stability I’ve trained into myself is sometimes necessary, to gather information and make good decisions. Like I have to do to pick a health insurance plan.

I feel like I have to hold my fear and sadness at arms’ length, or I’ll be crippled into indecision, and thus inaction.

I know myself too well to trust myself with Feeling an Emotion.

I don’t think I can afford the Struggle to Reel it In while trying to ~get acquainted~ with a Feeling right now.

But, gods.... Especially with the org stuff, my personal projects, my writing, I’ve been unearthing some of those deeply-buried Desires and Joys. With healing has come the washing up of old hurts. I’m tempted left and right to Feel Things, and make it personal, make it matter, make it last.

But though I kind of want to try easing myself into Knowing Emotions, I almost... don’t feel like I have the courage to face myself completely unrestrained.

I’ve been trying to get back in touch with my emotions for 5, maybe 7 years now. And every time I make progress, I feel like.... it’s almost like I get scared again. I fall back into the age-old habit of Undermining my own Feelings. 

I legitimately don’t know how else to deal with them.

#i'm babbling. #this is really long and really more for my own benefit than anyone else. feel free to read but I Swear To Azar DO NOT REBLOG. #my psychologist said to put words to my emotions and I'm TRYING but all I can do is write about thoughts #because I don't have a fucking CLUE how to handle Experiencing An Emotion. (Except to self-talk it away.) #rhs personal posts #digital mirrorbooking #rhs emotion

[jiminsproof]

alike with my idol🌛

(tagged by @mintsugarr and @cosyserendipity!! thank you, i enjoyed reading yours so much!! elena buying children books and sonja keeping photos and tickets legit made me so emotional, you two are genuinely so sweet and i'm sending you a big hug.🥺)

The goal here is to think of one of your idols and chose the idol whom you share the most similarities with. It's not the "oh we share the same birthday, favourite colour, same age..", you know? You gotta think deeper than that hehehe.

listen, figuring it out was DIFFICULT. i frankly have no idea who i am most like cause there is no way for me to be objective about it. i know the most about bts, so i knew it had to be one of them. HENCEFORTH I THINK that i share a few traits with jk.

pardon me for going quite deep with this, using my psychologist card as a reason for rambling this time! also, of course, this is my interpretation of jk's behaviour and words - he might be a completely different person, or you can have a different opinion than me.

competitive, loves a good challenge: well, it is clear as a day that jk is a very ambitious person. it can be actually said about all members of bts but in terms of jk, i feel like his enjoyment of challenges goes even slightly deeper, to the point where the hardest choreo like 'on', which puts him under considerable strain, is actually his favourite. i can absolutely relate to that. i genuinely enjoy doing things that are seen as difficult or hardly possible, and my life is basically doing a crazy amount of objectively difficult things in order to feel the challenge, otherwise i'm bored and uneasy.

hard time focusing on things that are not within the range of their interests: when jk said during his interview that he can't focus on things he doesn't like, i felt that. despite always being deemed as the 'gifted' kid who was supposed to become a lawyer, i actually quit after one year of doing a law MA because i absolutely loathed everything about it.

was a shy kid and still gets shy sometimes: lmao, you know the compilations of jk trying to avoid giving a speech like it's the plague? i feel like that often, too. i still prefer to pretend i do not see an acquintance than do small talk tbh, though my confidence soars quite high nowadays.

had to grow up fast: when yoongi said in one of the interviews that he felt sad for jk because he had to grow up very fast and at first didn't really know who he was, i felt that. it must have been tremendously difficult for him to go through puberty in the spotlight, and i am so in awe that he turned out to be such a well-mannered, thoughtful person. in terms of myself: my younger sister once told me that she is very grateful that i have been a parent to her, and i think it sums up nicely what kind of a child and teenager i was, as she was born when i was 10. before now, i could not really be a child, and i'm very happy to be discovering this side of myself.

goes against the rules/social constructs: in terms of jk, i am thinking about his beautiful body art and piercings, as well as wearing genderless clothes (what an icon). and he does both in a very conservative society!! in terms of myself, i wear clothes that are men's and women's wear because gender is fake. i'm also out and proud about my bisexuality, despite living in a homophobic society.

self-proclaimed romantic: my bro believes in fate, loves romantic movies and songs about love, wants to have a very public beautiful kiss with picking up his SO before he dies. sadly, i get it.

feels strongly for the ones they care about, sensitive, cries easily: play a sad movie and this is it for both jk and me! all jokes aside, i am always in awe about how thoughtful jk is, how much he feels for his hyungs (and army), how he tries to help them (even the fact that he is learning english to help namjoon - wow). though it seems to me that he is the least physically affectionate out of the maknae line (which, lol, is not difficult, since jm and tae are basically PDA in a human form), his care is very easily noticeable. i especially can relate to the fact that he seems all tough on the outside, with his black clothes, piercings, tattoos but on the inside... softie.😌

tagging the lovely (but please don't feel pressured, this IS very personal, i know): @tinyhope, @clutterbugs, @kimchokejin, @mutedstring, and anyone else who wants to do this!💜

#personal #like bro very very personal #tag game #sending everyone a big hug 🌸 #sorry it got so long i tried to shut up i swear........... #also @kimchokejin how is my future wife doing?????? #is she well???

[ace-ace-in-yo-face]

Can we stop considering all teens who say they're depressed an "attention seeking edgy 12 year olds" cuz for the love of God - my depression actually started around the time I was 13-14 yo, and I got no treatment at all because as my mom (and other people) said "it's just a phase" "u just want attention".

Yes I was awkward about asking for help, in my case it was through jokes about suicide and being all "ugh life sucks I wanna die" etc. Because I was a fucking child who didn't know how to deal with such emotions and struggles cuz nor in school nor at home no one has ever explained to me what depression really was and how to get help and how to deal with such emotions. I got help after 5 years of telling my mother to get me on therapy and guess what? I was diagnosed with severe depression and social anxiety disorder and "in need of long therapy", who would have guessed. I had to be treated in a psychiatric hospital and had multiple suicide attempts but I guess I was just being edgy right?

Yes there are teens who are treating it as something cool, who are seeking attention, who are just trying to be edgy. But for those kids it should be explained what depression really is without putting them down cuz for fucks sake u don't have the right to say who is depressed or not, leave it to professionals.

I was just watching a video and in the comments people where bashing those kids and saying things like "they don't have any reason to be depressed" like for God's sake shut up - it pisses me off cuz when u're a kid u sometimes can't tell why u're feeling like this i don't know why I'm feeling like this most of the time now so what am I not depressed? Has my psychiatrist made up my diagnosis? And u know what, when I was a kid and started to consider having depression I'd always put myself down because of people around me saying things like this, people treating me like an attention seeking edgy kid and for some time I thought that was true, that I just convinced myself I was depressed. How horrible is that?

So maybe let's give these kids help they need, let's explain to them what depression is and what to do when they get suicidal thoughts and let's explain to them how treating depression as something cool and romantic or whatever is disrespectful to people who suffer (who these kids might be as well, people deal differently with struggles) instead of putting everything they say in a "edgy teenager" box?

It makes me so mad when people laugh at kids who vent online too, I vent online sometimes and u know why I do that? Because irl I have no people to talk to, no people that care so I seek up any sort of help from strangers - it's sad when u think about it, and maybe these kids that seek attention, seek it for a reason. Sometimes reaching out to these people and having a chat, reassuring them etc. can be incredibly helpful, u don't even know how many times I have cried cuz a stranger on the internet said they cared about me and I cried because the thought that someone spent time to write this to me was more than enough to keep me going.

It's a serious topic and it should be handled with care.

In my country a consultation with a psychologist is free - with that in mind will it hurt so much to just take Ur kid who is certain they're depressed to such professional to discuss it with them? Even if they'll just explain to them that they don't have depression because who knows - it's certainly better for a professional to do so. And the sooner u know the better.

My first visit was because my mother was certain I was making shit up and wanted to prove to me she was right.

Guess what happened.

(and if any of u need support or some nice words or reassurence, please don't hesitate to reach out, my messages are always open :))

#Tw suicide mention #tw depression #Depression #Important #mental heath awareness #mental health #Support kids for fucks sake

[scuttle-buttle]

Chapter 10

WC: 1633

Rated: E

Chapter Tags: anxiety, angst, brief fears of infidelity, discussions of childbearing and marriage/gender roles, psych theories, some manipulation, age difference, brief mention of domestic violence (there is none)

A/N: If you have any questions regarding the tags for this chapter and want to ask me about it before reading please do so! The chapter is not necessarily dark but I understand that some may want me to give a more detailed warning/context. I want all my readers to be as comfortable as possible 💙

🧠

It started out small. He would bring up Dr. Stratton during conversation more and more often. Three times now he had been late to office hours, causing you to have to wait outside his room, nervously checking the time. But it’s nothing, you continue to remind yourself. They’re just good friends that haven’t seen each other in years. And you trust them both.

When another Friday night passed with Laszlo skipping drinks in favor of meeting with Karen, you decided to stay in as well. It had been a month since they reacquainted with one another. In those weeks you had seen less of him outside work. Your sex life was stagnating too, much to your annoyance. He had even canceled at the absolute last minute on a dinner date. Naturally, you had begun to feel a twinge of jealousy at his lack of attention. He kept saying it was work related. Nevertheless, the sullen temperament you'd adopted went unnoticed by the doctor. You felt foolish; you weren’t so needy that you had to make a big deal about it. So you said nothing on the issue.

You sat on the old couch in your apartment. Bitsy was getting ready to go out with Lucius for date night. Picking at your fingers, you decide to ask your roommate for advice. “Hey Bits?”

“Yeah?” she called from her bedroom.

“Can I ask you a question about Lucius?” you start.

“Sure, what’s up?”

You pause as you think of how to word your thoughts. “Do you ever, like, get jealous? When he hangs out with other girls I mean.” Her head pops out of the door frame as she finishes fastening her earring, eyebrows raised in question. “It’s just that Laszlo has been spending a lot of time with Dr. Stratton now that she’s back in town. I trust them and everything, but I’m starting to feel a bit left behind I guess…” you trail off.

“Oh honey, that's normal.” She waves a hand through the air as she speaks. “There’s this girl at the lab that Lucius works with and for the first month I was convinced she was trying to steal him away from me. Turns out she just wanted Marcus, his brother!” Bitsy lets out a cackle.

“Right…” you pick at the skin around your fingernails. “I just feel silly about it. I’m sure I’m overreacting to the whole thing, though. Laszlo would never do anything, and I don’t think Dr. Stratton would either,” you remind yourself outloud. "There's just this thing John said to me about them having a past and I can't get it out of my head."

“It's not silly.” Bitsy had moved further into the bedroom, causing her voice to be slightly muffled. “But if it bothers you that much, talk to him about it. He’s a psychologist, it’s kinda his job to understand emotions and things like this. And if he loves you like you say he does then he’ll put a bit more effort into giving you his attention.”

You marinate on what she’s told you. Bitsy is right, if it bothers you that much then you need to bring it up with him. Be an adult, use communication, and all that. “Why’re you always right and level-headed about everything?”

“Someone’s gotta be, with a hot head like you,” she snarks. Her phone buzzes letting her know her date is downstairs. With a squeeze on the shoulder she bids you goodbye, telling you to let her know if you need anything.

_

The atmosphere in Dr. Stratton’s office felt off. What was usually so open and warm had felt forced and awkward. You were still ignoring the guilt of your jealousy at the doctor. She wasn’t as talkative today, unlike usual. Instead, it was strictly business. You chalked it up to her having an off day.

The two of you discussed in more depth the fetishes and kinks from the list you had compiled. Unfortunately, due to spending less time with your boyfriend the last few weeks you hadn’t had much of an opportunity to try any of the new tricks you were learning about. Therefore, you had little to really talk about in that regard. You found that you didn’t particularly mind, as you were feeling less inclined to want to share about your love life due to your envy towards the woman in question.

Dr. Stratton quietly gathered together her notes from the session and placed them into the folder. You were about to ask if she needed anything else from you when her lips parted before closing again. She leaned forward on her desk towards you. Her fingers steepled under her chin.

She licks her lips. “There is something I wish to discuss with you unrelated to the study.”

You didn’t like where this was going. Dread pooled in your gut at the concerned look on her face. “O-okay.”

“Now I want you to understand that I only bring this up out of concern for your wellbeing and emotional health. But some of the things you have told me over the course of this study have me worried.”

What on earth could you have said that would cause this sort of reaction from her? She was the most calm and collected person you had ever known. To have her speaking out made your heart race in your chest.

She takes a moment to gather her thoughts before opening her mouth again. “In truth I worry about your current relationship. I fear that-”

Brows furrowing, your mind goes to the worst conclusion. You blurt out “what? No! He doesn’t hurt me or anything, I don’t know what would have given you that impression but I- ”

The doctor reaches out with her hand to settle on your forearm. “My dear take a breath, I meant no such thing.”

You take a deep inhale to compose yourself. “Then what are you talking about?”

“Speaking as your friend, and as an alienist, I fear that this boyfriend is potentially using you for your youth,” she begins the tale she concocted, unbeknownst to you. “In my experience as a psychologist, the young women such as yourself that I encounter with significantly older male companions find themselves locked into the relationship. Typically, it is from dependence on money at first. Over time, the male pressures the woman to be compliant in things like marriage and childbearing. I understand how difficult it is for a woman as driven as you to balance your aspirations with relationships and domestic matters. Do you want children?”

Her statement and question take you back. Confusion is written all over your face. Marriage? Children? Neither you nor Laszlo had ever brought up either subject. You didn’t even know if it was something he was interested in. “Wait what? I'm not sure I follow…”

“Men around his age go through an identity crisis in which they begin to become aware of their mortality. A change in priorities. The most common desire is to procreate, to start a family in which to pass on their wisdom is strongest here. Are you prepared to give him children soon? Of course there is nothing wrong with wanting to be a mother, it is a very noble role. Yet you do not strike me as someone ready for such a large step.”

You can barely form a coherent thought at her onslaught. The whole conversation was so out of the blue that you felt incredibly lost. Did you want children? Did he want children? Now? You wrap your arms around your torso to stave off the uncertainty and anxiety you feel creeping in. No words come to your defense at her interrogation. You are speechless, jaw dropped.

She stands and crosses the room, placing her cool hands on your cheeks. “My dear you are still a child yourself. This is something you need to consider. To… consider the possibility that you can’t give him what he needs. That he may need someone closer to his age with the same priorities, someone more willing to give in to his needs now. I don’t think you’re ready for that. I’ve seen the cost that these girls face. And the societal pressures and judgement you would face being with someone so much older? I think it could throw you into a state similar to after your friend passed. I wouldn’t want to see you in that position again. I want you to have your freedom."

Dr. Stratton looks up at the clock suddenly; “oh! My, I’m going to be late for a meeting, you’ll have to go. I don’t believe we need any more sessions for the study, but I will let you know if anything changes.”

You are too in shock trying to process everything she said to you as she ushers you out of the door with a “think about what I said, dear.” The door shuts behind you.

Karen sat with a huff. She felt a tad guilty for what she had said to you. She had no idea if Laszlo wanted marriage or children, he hadn’t when they were first together. But times change. She hoped that by using the angle of kids and identity crises that she could subtly plant a seed of doubt in your mind. Strike quickly and overwhelmingly, plant the doubt that you weren’t right for him, then push you out before you have the chance to seek answers or reassurance from her. It seemed you bought her false concern as actual worry. You were a great girl. But you were just that - a girl. You couldn’t give Laszlo what he needed, not like she could.

Now she simply had to wait and let your mind eat away at itself, leaving him for the taking.

Tag list

@hardlyinteresting @lorna-d-m @livvyshmiv @somethingthatsaysbubbles @greeneyedblondie44 @unbeatablecurlgirl @apparrio @marchingicenotes7 @anteroom-of-death @bruhidaniel @lemairepstuff @thehuiabird @zemosimp05 @alindeluce @iamnotthecatladynextdoor @laura-naruto-fan1998 @trelaney @boneheadduluc @i-am-dead-inside-666 @fictionlandslanddreams @thatoneartgalsstuff @hb8301 @fandom-princess-forevermore @foggycandywitch @creme-bruhlee @andy-rocks @nonamec0s

#psychopathia sexualis #the interpretation of dreams #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler #laszlo x reader #laszlo kreizler fanfic #the alienist #the alienist angel of darkness #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl #daniel bruhl laszlo kreizler #tw anxiety #tw infidelity #tw psychological manipulation #gender expectations #scuttle-buttle

[flowerpoweranthem]

It’s all about fxcking - Dr. JMK (smut)

josh/fem reader

word count: 2000

summary: You decide to give spiritual psychology a try and get more than you bargained for

You saw a pamphlet at your local crystal shop that caught your eye. That’s how you ended up standing in front of the office of Dr. JMK, a spiritual psychologist. You weren’t sure if you would actually follow through, but you were always open to trying new things. You take one last deep breath, open the door, and step inside.

Immediately, you’re hit with the smell of incense burning, which seems to be some mix of patchouli and sandalwood. When you take a look around you notice ambient lighting, lots of colorful tapestries, and plenty of crystals. You’re still unsure but the environment immediately helps you relax a bit.

You jump slightly when someone enters from a hallway to your left. You let out a small laugh but instantly stop when you let your eyes focus on the man in front of you. He is dressed in all white, with a head full of soft curls. He has soulful brown eyes, highlighted by his glasses. “Hi, I'm here to see Dr. JMK.” You stutter a bit, which makes your face flush. Immediately the man smiles, and it’s so stunning that your face burns even brighter. “That’s me” he replies, as he motions you to follow him.

You follow him down the hallway and into another room straight ahead. This room has a similar vibe as the previous one, the only difference being the addition of a couch and a few chairs. Dr. JMK asks you to take a seat, and you happily oblige. “Have you ever been to a spiritual psychologist before?” he asks. You shake your head no. He smirks and quickly replies, “Use your words, don’t be afraid to speak freely here.” You find him intimidating but you're interested to see where this goes. “I have never been to a spiritual psychologist, no.” He smiles and nods, then stands and walks over to a stereo in the corner of the room. He begins to play soft ambient music, and looks over his shoulder at you with a devious smirk on his face.

“Spirituality is all about opening up your mind, but it’s also about physically connecting to the world around you” He says. “If you ever get uncomfortable during this session, please let me know. The emotions you feel may be overwhelming.”

At this point he walks over to the couch you are sitting on and lowers himself beside you. He reaches over to a small table beside the couch and lights an incense. He looks you dead in the eyes, before slowly bringing it to his soft lips and taking a slow drag. After a few seconds, he puts it aside while exhaling into your face. You’re trying to stay professional, but you can’t keep your eyes from drifting to his mouth.

“For the first part of the session, I am going to ask you to close your eyes. I am then going to touch you, and I want you to tell me what you’re feeling.”

You immediately shut your eyes, you’re just so enamored with this man and eager to please him. He begins by brushing his fingers up the length of your arms, and immediately goosebumps rise. His touch feels like fire on your skin and awakens something deep within you. As he moves upward, he gently runs his fingers along the side of your neck. You let out a little moan of satisfaction, and you hear him slightly laugh under his breath.

“Remember what I said sweetheart, I need you to use your words.” His voice has a slight rasp to it that makes your insides flutter.

You manage to get the words out, although they come out low and unsure… “That feels really good Dr.”

“Josh, just call me Josh.” he quickly replies.

At this point, he asks you to open your eyes. When you do, his face is a mere inches away from yours. The eye contact is so intense that you have to lower them, which you realize is a mistake when you see him bite his lower lip. Before you realize what you’re doing, your lips are crashing into his.

You feel him smile against your lips, before he grabs your neck and pulls you in closer. Immediately you’re on fire, as the kiss turns more passionate and you both allow your hands to wander. His hands are all over you, slightly pulling your hair while the other digs into your thigh. You begin to let out quiet little moans and you're eager to get closer to him.

He pulls away from you and asks, “would you like to do something for me?”

You instantly nod, and he guides you from your spot on the couch onto your knees in front of him. You easily understand what he is asking for, and while your nervous hands fumble while unbuttoning pants you see him reach to the same small table as earlier and grab a joint.

You slide his pants down past his hips, as he places the joint in his mouth and proceeds to light it. You allow yourself to look him over, noticing how hard he is. You work up the courage to grab his boxers and pull them down as well, and you take his cock in your hands. You lick from the base to the tip, before taking him in your mouth. You slowly work your way up and down, while skillfully swirling your tongue. Josh uses one hand to carefully hold back your hair, and you notice when he throws his head back a bit. Josh takes a long pull from the joint, then guides you off of his dick. He then slowly leans forward while cupping your face. You instinctively open your mouth. His lips brush your own, as he blows the smoke into your mouth. You inhale and then exhale, all while never breaking eye contact. Josh smirks at you. “You’re such a good girl.”

It takes everything in you not to let out a sound once you hear those words come out of his mouth. At this point he helps you off your knees and brings you up next to him on the couch. He grips the edge of your shirt, and slowly pulls it over your head. Your pulse begins to quicken as he places his lips against your shoulder, and begins to plant soft kisses against your skin. While he slowly trails his mouth down your body, his hands reach around to undo your bra. Easily undoing the clasp, he pulls the straps off your shoulders and down your arms before throwing it to the far corner of the room.

You begin to get nervous, as you are now exposed from the hips up. Josh quickly eases your nerves when you notice the lust in his eyes as he slowly rakes them over you. At this point he helps you lie back against the couch, as his mouth begins to explore your skin again. He takes one of your breasts in his hand while his mouth hovers over the other. He takes you into his mouth, swirling his tongue while his hand explores elsewhere. You let out a gasp, at this point you’re in desperate need of some kind of relief. Thankfully, he proceeds to trail his mouth downwards before stopping at the top of your pants. He sits back as his fingers quickly undo the button and you eagerly lift your hips for him.

Josh slowly removes the last bit of clothing from your body before placing them on the floor, he then looks up and says, “you’re not allowed to finish until I give you permission, do you think you can do that for me baby?”

You quickly nod your head, eager to have his mouth on you again.

He slowly hooks one of your legs on his shoulder while firmly pinning the other against the couch. Starting just above your knee, he plants sensual kisses along the inside of your leg. Desperate to finally feel him where you need him the most, you let out a moan. He smiles against the inside of your thigh before softly biting it. You feel a brief spark of pain, followed by another kiss to ease it away. Josh then places his mouth where you needed it the most, and slowly begins to move his tongue. The relief is instant and you let out the breath you had been holding for a while now. You instinctively grab his head to pull him closer, but immediately realize you’ve made a mistake.

Josh pulls away while slowly shaking his head. “Seems to me like you need to work on your self control, sweetheart. Same rules apply, you do not get to cum until I say you can… but I want you to sit on my face instead.”

Your jaw drops slightly, but you want him so badly that you don’t try to protest. While he lies back against the couch, you sit up and proceed to situate yourself above him. His hands grab your ass, and you lower yourself onto his mouth. He immediately begins to swirl his tongue, while you start to move back and forth. The sensation of his tongue against you is so intense, a slew of profanities begin to trickle from your mouth. As you begin to ride his face more intensely, his perfectly shaped nose presses against your clit adding to the sensation. This causes you to moan even louder, and you can feel your orgasm build within you. Josh moans against you, and you almost finish from that alone. He notices that you’re losing control and takes a moment to remind you of the rules. “You haven’t been given permission to cum yet, but I might allow it if you beg.”

He pulls you back against his mouth, guiding your hips against him at an unrelenting pace. You begin to beg, desperately seeking release from all the teasing he has done so far. “Please Josh, please let me cum.” You look down to see him glance up at you through his eyelashes, and he begins to nod his head with a devilish gleam in his eyes. Taking this as confirmation, you allow yourself to no longer hold back. Within seconds, your legs begin to shake and you hear and feel him mutter “come for me.” That is all it took for you to completely unravel, letting out desperate and weak moans.

As you come down from your high, you bring yourself off of him and onto the couch. Once Josh is sitting next to you again, you look over at him. “Fuck me,” you plead.

He answers back with a smile, and flips you over so you’re on your hands and knees. Before you can even prepare, he slips into you. After so much teasing and anticipation, you let out a needy and frantic whine. It feels better than you could have ever imagined. He instantly grabs your hips and begins to slowly move in and out of you. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

You can tell he is beginning to become needy because he removes his hands from your hips and grabs two fistfulls of your hair. He begins to drive into you with increasing intensity and speed, and the sensation is so overwhelming that you bite into the pillow in front of you. You begin to rock back into him, and he leans forward and gently bites down on your shoulder, stifling his own quiet moans. You know he is close to the edge when his breathing starts to shudder, so you say, “cum for me.” Hearing this, he begins to drive his hips into you at an even higher speed and intensity, and his perfect rhythm begins to get sloppy. He releases your hair, grabbing onto your hips again and begins to moan out a string of profanities. The feeling of him finishing inside of you sends you over the edge once again, and you both ride out your highs together.

Once you have both gathered yourselves, you help each other get dressed. Josh walks you from the back room to the front lobby and stops in front of the door. He looks at you once more with a smirk on his face. “You were such a good girl for me, but I think we are going to have to schedule another session soon.”

With that he places a soft kiss on your cheek and you turn to leave.

While exiting the building you think to yourself, “I still don’t know what spiritual psychology is, all I know is I really fucking like it.”

#greta van fleet #smut #praise #teasing #josh kiszka

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝓐𝓾𝓻𝓸𝓻𝓪 𝓐𝓼𝔂𝓵𝓾𝓶: 𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙, 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛, 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖, 𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎, 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚍𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚜. 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎! 𝙹𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚈𝚞𝚗𝚑𝚘 × 𝙿𝚜𝚢𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 (𝙵𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎)

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟹𝙺

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝, 𝚂𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙰𝚄

❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃

I breathed out an airy and desolate sigh through my nose, obviously I unconsciously did it a little too loud as the raven haired male sitting across from me looked down at the floor.

"It was all my fault.....wasn't it?"

I looked up, the glasses sitting on my nose bridge tilting slightly that I had to push them back up so I could study his features, or should I say, his expressions. His eyelids never blinked once, his eyes were trained on the pattern of the carpet underneath him, but I knew his mind was elsewhere. I looked with pity at the bandages wrapped around his wrists, some of the edges stained with fresh blood. I gulped slightly, my stomach threatening to spill out my meager lunch of an apple and avocado toast slice from earlier. I could handle hearing patients tell and retell me about how they stabbed their parents to death, cut off their significant other's genitals because they were unloyal to them, even tackled a deranged lunatic that once tried to...... seduce me to put mildly.......

But to this day, I can't help but get dizzy when I treat or deal with patients who are self harming victims, because yes, they are victims. Victims of their own self loathing, guilt, and depressive state that isn't their fault. It just pains me so much to see them resort to such drastic measures...

But I'm also not stupid and know some, if not most only do it for attention or to manipulate others, and Yunho is a case not far from it. Which is why I was the one sent to deal with him. All the other psychologists would have fallen for his sad puppy eyes, good looks, well built physique and would have released him too early into the world. Not that he's dangerous and a threat to society, but he's not emotionally nor mentally stable to go deal with daily life yet. And I'm not a softie by any means even if I'm patient and meek doctor when necessary. But I'm objective and I seek deeper into the true person hiding behind the front they put in front of me.

"Do you believe it was your fault Yunho?" Usually one would get scolded for answering a question with a question, but I prefer this method in order to get my patients to reason and draw out their own conclusions......

And makes them pour out their true answers.

I watch Yunho ponder for a moment.

"It has to be- otherwise she wouldn't have...wouldn't have-"

He bites back a choked sob, teeth tightening and gritting against themselves as he fails to contain his tears. His hands cover his face as he begins to cry uncontrollably, desperate and heartwrenching wails resonating throughout the 4 walls keeping us company. Reaching for the purple plaid box on the coffee table between us, I take out a few tissues and stand up from my seat. Lightly tapping on his shoulder, I whisper a 'here' to him. He thanks me, but since he's crying too hard no sound comes out his throat. For the next few minutes, he's blowing out his runny nose, all red just like his eyes from crying too hard. He's sniffling while trying to control his previous hyperventilating session. I want to hug him or at least give him a pat in the back. But I can't, I can only sit back and try to imagine the agony he's probably going through, try to put myself in his shoes as I dive deep into the event that got him here in the first place:

❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃

Coming back from a trip to the store, Yunho momentarily looks around confused when he heard his baby daughter crying. Quickly putting the bags on the kitchen counter, he makes his way over to the nursery that adjoined the main bedroom. Calling out for his wife, he receives no response as he walks down the hallway. He calls once more for her but stops midway as he opens the slightly ajar door. His heart stops beating and his veins run cold as he stares into the lifeless body of his beloved wife hanging in the room, feeling as if the oxygen is being ripped out from his lungs, suffocating slowly.

As if sensing his agitation, his daughter's cries from the other room grow louder, so much that they raise concern from their next door neighbor, a kind and sweet old lady who more than once has offered her help in watching over the child or help them out in any way she could. Typing in the passcode, she makes it there just in time to stop the tall male from inflicting more harm upon himself as he holds onto his wife's body in agony. Having been left with no choice, she immediately calls for an ambulance, who arrive there shortly and take him to a nearby hospital.

He was monitored 24/7 as he had a history of attempted suicide before. The nurses and doctors didn't want another episode to happen again, not wanting to leave a barely 1 year old fatherless as well as motherless. As an investigation went, police found a journal hidden deep between the mattresses on the bed. When they poured over the first pages, they knew there was much more to the story than just a doting husband who couldn't live without his wife, hence why he was relocated to the infamous asylum......

And a specialized woman was tasked to not only unmask the truth, but hopefully help a poor broken mind be put back together again.

❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃

Hence why I'm here now, the folder I had read over and over again still on my lap. It honestly amazed me that I'd actually get to work on a case like this, and of course I took up the challenge of digging into a mind like Yunho's, not just to help him, but to leave a precedent for any other situations like this that came after.

"A precedent?" I remember the officer asking me.

"Yes. You'd be surprised just how common these types of toxic relationships there are in an everyday basis yet no one ever looks deeper because they're too focused treating a depressed person who's trying to kill themselves and don't focus on what they really are...."

Shutting the folder, I tucked it under my arm before turning on my heel.

"A manipulative individual who'll do anything to keep someone tied to them forever."

That's how I viewed Yunho, it's how I should be viewing him. At least until I could hopefully get him to change.

"How's......is my daughter ok?"

I let out a soft hum and nod as I scribbled something down on the notepad.

"She's fine. We're having someone take care of her in the meantime, don't worry."

Yunho let out a sigh of relief, fingers fidgeting against his thighs as he mustered up the courage to say something.

"Could I.....could I please see her?"

From the sad look in my eyes he could already tell the answer was negative.

"I'm sorry Yunho....I'm afraid until we see some improvement, we can't allow you to be reunited with her just yet."

I tried to keep my voice steady as I said that, bracing myself to possibly see him breakdown once more. He had already lost his wife and now learning that his only child was forced away from him could possibly send him spiraling down into another episode.

But Yunho instead took a deep breath and seemed calm.

"I understand.....it's ok..." I knew he was saying those last two words more to himself than to me.

Lifting his face up, he suddenly shocked me by looking so bright and rather happy.

"So I guess it's best if we begin right?"

Even to this day, I don't know whether I should have been delighted to have such a compliant patient.....

Or terrified.

❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃

"Tell me Yunho, what was your first reaction when you saw your wife?"

A subtle hint of a smile curled at the corners of his lips.

"I thought she was the kindest and most caring person in the world, very pretty too. She just walked in and the room instantly lit up."

He was reminiscing about those times, I could tell. That fond look on his face was unmistakable.

"Do you believe you fell in love at first sight with her?"

His smile suddenly dissipated, eyebrows scrunching together as if recollecting memories from so long ago.

"I think.......I felt attracted to her.....but.....I don't think it was love?"

I could tell he felt conflicted with himself, but that's exactly what I wanted. I want him to question every feeling and sensation he felt at the moment so he could decide for himself if it was real or just a mere illusion he held. If he starts to second guess or question what he felt then he'd start reasoning and come to the conclusion that what he felt was wrong and mistaken. He'd see that his actions weren't justified.

"So when do you truly believe you fell in love with her?"

I stopped writing on my notepad and watched him close his eyes as he tried to pinpoint the exact time he felt whatever he thought was love.

"One night....one of our friends was feeling down in spirits. I witnessed how caring she was towards them...kindly reassuring them that they were loved, that they mattered. I vividly remember her kind eyes and loving smile as she comforted them. Then it hit me that she was that kind of person. Selfless, caring, doting, would sacrifice anything for her friends and family...... it was hard for anyone not to fall in love with her."

He turned his hand over, studying the wedding ring that he still wore to this day, the engravings of their initials being his prime interest.

"And at that moment I knew I had to have her. I couldn't let anyone else have her. I wanted her.... that love, compassion, empathy..her confidence and strong nature, I wanted-"

He stopped mid sentence and his eyes wizened in horror as he came to the realization I had foreseen long ago. He looked up at me, meeting my unwavering eyes that held no emotion at that moment.

"She had all the qualities I had always lacked in."

I took my glasses off and nodded.

"And I unconsciously wanted them for myself.... but the only way I could have them was...through her?" He seemed sickened with himself.

"Not exactly Yunho. You could have learnt to love yourself and raise your self esteem." I quickly scribbled my observation down.

"But I didn't. Instead I caged her up and slowly tore her down."

I couldn't help but let out an involuntary smile as he drew out that conclusion.

"Glad to know you've accepted that fact, even if it took several months for you to understand."

Shutting the notepad, I lifted myself up from my chair, straightening my blouse. Yunho followed suit.

"Is our session over?" He was always so polite, always escorting me out and holding the door open for me, which other doctors would have adamantly refused, too scared to come close to their patients. But not me. I let them have certain liberties at times.

"Not yet Yunho. As you've made remarkable progress, I got permission for you to see someone."

He was momentarily confused for a split second. Poor thing probably thought it was one of the nurses coming in to give him some new medication to take, which he hated with a passion. Stepping outside for a brief moment, I happily took the young baby in my arms, the little girl already used to seeing me as I always went to go see her after being with Yunho for a few hours. When I came back inside he had his back turned to me, once again staring off into nowhere. The light gurgled babbles the baby emitted caught his attention immediately. He whipped his head around so fast I thought he'd break his neck for a second. He teared up as the child began squealing in excitement as she recognized her father right away.

"Oh my-" He choked up with tears that he couldn't finish his sentence.

I calmly walked over to him, lightly bouncing the baby in my arms. Yunho hesitantly reached his hands out.

"Can I..?" He had such a hopeful glint in his eyes.

I didn't answer, I merely held his daughter out to him. As soon as she felt his embrace, she latched onto him as if he was one of the teddy bears she often slept with. Perhaps he was one.

No....he is one.

In my time of spending time with Yunho, I've come to strongly believe he is a sweet and tender individual. And judging by the way the little girl feels safe in his arms, I do believe he is capable of being truly loved.....

If he learns how to properly love not just someone else, but himself too.

❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃

Stepping out of my car, I quickly grab the small pink bag on the passenger seat before locking it. Treading through the small patch of green grass, I ring the doorbell and wait for one of the occupants to open up for me. No surprise, I'm greeted by the same raven haired male I met nearly 3 years ago. He looks delighted to see me.

"Y/N. Hi!"

I wave at him, a small but genuine smile on my features.

"Hi Yunho. Did I come at a bad time?" I notice the apron covered in flour and leftover egg on it.

"Oh no not at all. Please come in."

Moving aside to let me pass, my nose catches the scent of baked goods filling the air. I can distinctly recognize the hints of lavender and french vanilla, an odd but surprisingly tasty combination. I spot out of the corner of my eye a little head peeking out from the kitchen, curious to know who had come to pay them a visit. Letting out a squeal, she quickly ran over to attach herself on my leg.

"Y/N!"

I chuckled and lightly run my fingers through her hair which was longer than the last time I saw it.

"Hi Jina, I see you've been baking something." We both chuckle as I scraped off some cake batter that had gotten on the tip of her button nose.

"Me and dad are making cupcakes for my friend's birthday party tomorrow." She explained.

"Wow that's a really nice gesture. I bet they'll turn out delicious."

Remembering that I was short on time and that I had one last task to carry out, I pull out the bag I had hidden behind my back and hand it to her.

"It's for you."

Her eyes began to sparkle so much they could rival all the stars in the galaxy. After thanking me like 20 thousand times, she plopped her tiny body on the couch to tear into the contents inside it. I shake my head before taking out a small paper from inside my trench coat.

"And this is for you."

Taking the slip from my fingers, Yunho opens it up and scans what it says. He seems confused for a moment, not fully understanding what it means. He looks to me once more, probably for the last time, asking for an explanation.

"It's your official release from the institution. No more drop in visits, no more eyes on you 24/7, and soon you won't have to continue with the prescribed medication, although when that happens they will send someone once in a while to check up and make sure you're ok without them."

Yunho nods but it is a rather sad and pained nod.

"So this means you won't be seeing us any longer?"

I inhale deeply and nod.

"This was a temporary thing until you got better Yunho. After all....I was only the doctor assigned to you."

It hurt me to say that as much as it probably hurt him, as much as it'd hurt Jina to know I wouldn't be coming back anymore.

"Can't we at least be friends?"

I hated seeing those puppy eyes of him practically beg me, signature trait he passed on to his daughter.

"That would be completely unprofessional of my part Yunho. I deeply cherish and treasure all the time we spent together and I'm beyond happy and satisfied that you've come so far since the start of our journey..."

I sighed deeply.

"But every journey has an end." He finished my sentence.

Extending his hand out to me, I took it and gave it a firm shake.

"I'm really going to miss you." He admitted.

"Me too. Me too."

Going over to the momentarily forgotten 4 year old, she let out an 'oof' when she suddenly found herself cooped up in my embrace.

"Take care of yourself and of your dad ok?"

I kissed the top of her head, her grinning face not registering that this might be the last time she ever saw me. Yunho walked me out the door and even escorted me all the way to my car. Always the gentleman, he held the door open for me. Before I could even get one foot inside, I felt a large hand grip my wrist. Turning to him, I was flustered when he suddenly pulled me close to him.

"Please don't leave. I need you....I..."

He looked conflicted with himself as he tried to finish his words. Taking a deep breath, he confessed:

"I love you."

My heart sank. He said the 3 words I hoped he'd never direct at me. Mainly because I was scared as he was. Don't get me wrong, Yunho is a wonderful man, and he truly deserves to be loved....

But am I certain that he has finally learned to love? Or is it because he feels he needs me?........

Only one way to find out.

❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃

#ateez #ateez yunho #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fluff #ateez reactions #ateez headcanons #ateez angst #ateez yandere au #yandere!ateez #yandere!au #yandere!yunho #ateez yunho angst #ateez yunho scenarios #ateez yunho imagines #ateez yunho headcanons #ateez yunho fluff #ateez yunho fanfiction #ateez yunho fanfic #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #jeong yunho #jeong yunho imagines #jeong yunho headcanons #jeong yunho scenarios #jeong yunho angst #jeong yunho fanfic #jeong yunho fanfiction #jeong yunho fluff #aurora asylum series

[the-bar-sinister]

In Justice We Trust (95196 words) by thesavagesabretooth

With Simon Blackquill and Athena Cykes assigned as their psychologists, the Phantom and Fulbright must grapple with their identity, their deeds, their future, and their love for the twisted samurai whom they betrayed.

All the while, Edgeworth and Wright find their relationship tested as they walk the narrow path between pursuing real justice, and the dark age of the law.

-

December 25, 7:45 am

Gumshoe followed miserably along with the furious Apollo Justice as the lawyer slammed his way through the hotel, looking for Mr. Edgeworth.

“Hey, pal..” Gumshoe slumped along at top speed after Apollo, as fast as his worn out old boots could carry him. “I know you ain’t happy, but let’s try to breathe huh?”

"I'm breathing," Apollo said– despite sounding quite breathless, and his face being quite red. "I'm very aware that I'm breathing right now, Detective Gumshoe. Where can I find the chief prosecutor?"

“I’m gonna be honest with you, pal. You lookin’ the way you do right now? I ain’t sure it’s the best idea to tell ya. You look like you’re two steps from a Third Degree Murder.”

Gumshoe didn’t like seeing the man this way. Apollo was a good kid, but worked up the way he was now, he was likely to hurt someone. Lash out, like that Aura woman had back at the space center with her hostages. Or like too many crimes he’d seen in the past.

“Would you want Trucy to see you like this, kid?” Sometimes you had to make an emotional bid to calm someone down. Remind them of something important, friends, family, loved ones. 

Apollo paused in his stride for a moment– but then kept marching. "No. Not that she hasn't seen me angry. But sometimes anger is important, Gumshoe. I'm not going to hurt anyone. I would never do that– unlike some people."

Maybe Gumshoe had gotten through to him at least a little bit– because his steps had slowed, and while the snap in his voice was still there, it was a bit less sharp.

“I get it, pal. Trust me. I’ve seen plenty done in anger…” He hurried up to put his hand on his shoulder with a sigh. “Just try not to say nothin’ you’ll regret in the mornin’.” 

Apollo stopped again, and he rubbed his shoulders as he stood there, rolling them under his hand. "Gumshoe– thanks for trying to look out for me. But… you really have no idea what I'm going through right now."

“Yeah, that’s true pal. I mean, I dunno the specifics…and I dunno much, I ain’t a bright guy…but I can tell you’re still hurtin’ from losin’ someone.” He rubbed his neck. “I felt the same way when I thought Mr. Edgeworth had gone off an’ killed himself.” 

That seemed to throw Apollo for a loop. "What?"

Gumshoe’s rugged face flushed under the scruff of his beard, and he rubbed his chin with a sigh “...back after he an’ Phoenix Wright had their first clashes in court, and the truth came out about his mentor Manfred Von Karma…Mr. Edgeworth and I were…are…real close. Always have been since I was assigned to him and since. He’s…”

He trailed off… important to me. A lot like Maggey is. She knew how much him and Mr. Edgeworth had shared together. “He and I worked close together. But after that, he vanished. Left a suicide note or somethin’ that sounded just like it, and vanished into the night for long enough we almost declared him dead. Broke my fuckin’ heart, kid. I was fallin’ to pieces. Woulda, if it weren’t for Maggey.” 

Apollo was quiet for a moment. "Gumshoe– I'm sorry. I never knew about that. It uh, well I guess it explains some of the comments Phoenix has made about Miles before…"

He rubbed his chin. "But he wasn't really gone though… how long did you think?"

“Too damn long.” Gumshoe murmured. “he wasn’t really gone, but for those months of searching, he may as well have been. I didn’t think I’d see him again. So…yeah. I dunno how you feel, kid. Not exactly. But I got some idea, okay?” 

"Maybe, but…" he rubbed the back of his neck. "Even when you thought Mr. Edgeworth was gone, you didn't think he'd been murdered. You weren't– you weren't being asked to go to work with his killer, Gumshoe, and pretend nothing was wrong. Don't you feel like that's a bridge too far?"

“I dunno, pal.” Detective Gumshoe set his jaw.

“I’ve seen some things over the years. Every time I think ‘maybe this is a bridge too far’, I think to myself ‘but what’s on the other side’. I dunno why Mr. Edgeworth invited you on this knowin’ you’d have to face the guy…maybe he thought you’d be even angrier if you found out, and weren’t invited at all.” 

"I don't know what the hell he was thinking," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Which is exactly why I want to find out. But– you're a dependable kind of guy, Gumshoe. If you think I should wait to ask until later, I'll do that."

Gumshoe patted his shoulder “...If you wanna talk to him now, I can tell ya where he is. Just…try not to lose your cool. You ain’t gonna get answers if you barge in there seein’ red.” 

"You're right." He set his jaw. "You'll see him today, right?"

“Of course. He’s supposed ta check in with me before heading out to give me instructions.” 

"Alright. Tell him I want to talk to him tonight. Tell him to come see me. You can tell him what it's about, too."

Gumshoe nodded. 

“you got it pal, I’ll pass it along to him nice an’ proper. Alright?” He patted his shoulder again, and Apollo put his hand on his for a moment. “Take care of yourself till then, alright?” 

"Yeah Gumshoe. I'm gonna try to do that." He took a deep breath. "Thanks. Really."

Gumshoe gave him his best chummy smile. “Any time, kid. You ever need anything, feel free to hit up your friendly neighborhood Gumshoe, eh?” 

December 25, 9:00 am

Simon stood back and assessed the scene after they'd finished their initial tour of the crime scene.

Two cars, the first of which had– apparently, according to the tire marks– swerved in front of the second car which then hit it. There was a second streak of tire marks from the second car where it had attempted, futilely, to brake at the last second. Both cars had burned so hot, and so long that they were destroyed and almost unrecognizable. There was a body in the front driver's seat of each car, both of which were heavily destroyed by the same fire. 

Ema's analysis had not turned up any finger prints– unsurprising, given the fire– but she had discovered traces of unburned gasoline leading up to the scene of the two cars. And an assessment with luminol had turned up the most surprising feature of the case yet– a few drops of blood on the pavement between the two cars, which someone had attempted to wipe away.

And now that they were certain there were no fingerprints to miss, Ema was assisting in opening the cars, and examining what was left of the bodies.

Athena had been logging the entire investigation into Widget’s note function, drawing lines and notes between photographs taken with the small device in a rather interesting expose on how she conducted her investigations for the defense. She’d seemed most interested in the blood, writing out theories on exactly what it might mean while Ema worked with Agent Kelso.

Ema wrenched the door open with the agent’s help, with Ema holding her arm out to stop Kelso from moving the body until she took a picture.

“There. Lay them out on the ground. I’ll begin the examination.” 

Halblicht stood to the side as Kelso moved the body out of the car under Ema's instructions, and Simon noticed him watching the agent carefully. He'd noticed, in fact, that Halblicht had been watching both interpol agents carefully since the investigation had begun. He wondered what was on his mind– perhaps he was concerned that the agents might recognize him?

Whatever it was, it was of little consequence now, while they were investigating. Frankly as long as Halblicht didn't try to flee, or to tamper with the evidence– both of which were seeming less and less likely– Simon didn't care what he did.

He was loath to admit it, but he was almost enjoying the opportunity to work the case with the man, and with Athena.

Halblicht's gaze flicked from Kelso to the burned remains, which were, admittedly, difficult to look at for Simon. The monstrous things that fire did to the human body.

"Uuuh, is anyone seeing what I'm seeing?" Bobby asked after a moment.

Kelso looked up as Ema began her examination, starting from the head and going down with a magnifying glass and tweezers to peel away what little remained of clothing and charred flesh when she needed to.

“Seeing what, Detective Halblicht? The dead man? Yeah, I do.” she’d taken to flipping the bullet again, the clicking of metal on metal ringing out adding a sort of background track to the proceedings.

“Mm…if you’re talking about the bullet wound to the face, yes. I’ll work on extracting the bullet when I’m done with my preliminary examination of the rest of the body, “ Ema murmured from her work.

Athena looked a bit sick to her stomach as she glanced at Halblicht. “I haven’t gotten close, what is it?” 

Halblicht snapped into his ridiculous Bobby Fulbright salute at Athena. "Ms. Cykes– there's what appears to be a large bullet hole in the front of this man's skull."

"Not what one usually expects from a car wreck, admittedly," Simon drawled.

“Not unless it was an execution.” Ema said casually. “You sometimes see it, someone gets close and fires through the windshield to eliminate the incapacitated target…except.”

She pointed with her tweezers to the bullet wound, “it’s not a close range shot. This was from a distance.”

Athena frowned. “...now that’s interesting, isn’t it? I wonder if we can find any other bullet holes? And I wonder if it ties into the blood that was wiped up.”

Kelso whistled low, and adjusted the sunglasses in her hair again. “yikes. I guess we knew it wasn’t gonna be a cut and dry crash, but…”

"Yikes is right!" Bobby agreed. "It's too bad that all the windows were destroyed– they would have had something to say."

"Wouldn't they just?" Simon agreed. "The entry wound is in the front of the skull, yes?"

"Sure is, Prosecutor Blackquill!"

He touched his chin thoughtfully. "That tells us something in itself, doesn't it. If he was shot while he was driving– perhaps that's why the car swerved."

“Yeah..” Kelso nodded as she knelt down to look at the body with Ema. “I think you’re right, Prosecutor Blackquill. The sudden shot to the head probably caused him to slump, turning the wheel sharply to the side and colliding with the barrier.”

Athena bit her lip. 

“So someone was in front of them? And fired the gun from the distance to kill him.” She looked back at the other car “then what about the second car? It collided with the first, right?”

Ema had gone quiet again, working with the tweezers and her small medical kit to extract the bullet from the dead agent’s skull. 

Halblicht crossed his arms, and narrowed his eyes with a very cold expression in his face suddenly. "If that's the case, then it's likely the second car is unrelated to the case. A bystander casualty incurred due to the sudden wreck of the agents car."

"An interesting theory, detective," Simon said, considering it. "And a decent one– if not for one problem."

"Sir?"

"If this car belongs to an unrelated bystander– where's the second agent? There were two agents, and two agents are missing."

"Ah. Then perhaps the agents were in two cars after all?

“They could have decided that going separately somehow lowered suspicion?” Kelso suggested, the bullet reappearing and flipping through her fingers once more. “and give the opportunity for, if one was shaken, the other to continue to monitor unsuspected?”

Athena’s nose wrinkled. 

“...I don’t know, Agent. I think I’d like to examine the second body and car first. Agent Ash says that it’s almost certain that they took one car. I can’t imagine they’d have the time or inclination to grab a second car if the target was already heading out…right?” She suddenly looked unsure “then again, I’m no espionage expert.”

“I’ve got the bullet.” Ema announced. 

"Espionage tactics aside, what can we observe about the bullet, Skye-dono?" Simon asked. He noticed that Halblicht had crossed his arms, and gone quiet again.

Ema held up the ruined slug in her tweezers. “It's a pistol round. Typical handgun 9mm. Damaged from the heat and entry, but we might be able to make out rifling if we sent it in for testing.” 

"A pistol round, shot from a distance, in the front of the skull," Simon nodded. "Interesting. Is there anything else significant about the remains at this time?"

“Not really. Fire did its job admirably,” Ema huffed with a frown as she stood. “he was shot by a pistol from the distance in the front of the skull, and then the body was all but destroyed in the fire.”

“Brutal.” Kelso murmured with a shake of her head.

“I think we should get looking at the second body..” Athena said “...especially given the blood on the scene. It’s outside, between the cars…which is interesting.” 

"It's very interesting," Simon agreed. "Let's have a look at the second body, and see what conclusions we can draw from it."

Halblicht turned, quietly, suddenly snapping into action again. "I'll be happy to take the body out of the car then, if you'd like, Prosecutor Blackquill."

Simon raised his eyebrows. Why was he offering that?

"I don't see why not. Agent Kelso should only be required to get her shirt so dirty," he drawled. He resolved to watch Halblicht carefully. Surely he wasn't going to tamper with the evidence.

“Well I’m not gonna say no.” Kelso smiled. “...this shirt’s got enough tragedy smeared on it from the first one. If you want a hand, lemme know, sir.”

Athena’s head tilted up, and she seemed to listen very carefully as Halblicht spoke…she even paused in her note taking. 

Halblicht slipped his black gloves from his pocket, and onto his hands. "At least I'm in the appropriate color for being covered in ash, hm? Ms. Ema– would you please open the car?"

“You got it, Rob,” Ema nodded as she tightened her own gloves and grabbed the door handle. “On three. One…two…”

She wrenched the door open with the groan of charred and melted metal scraping together. 

Halblicht held back as the photo was taken of the car, and then he very carefully looked the body over. 

"There seems to be another gunshot wound in this one," he said. "Possibly two. I'll move it now."

“Good, once you get it on the ground I’ll give it the in depth examination.” Ema said, seeming more alive than ever now that she was in her element.

Kelso stood back, flipping the bullet between her fingers again as she asked. “Want me to investigate the interior of the car while you work on that, ma’am?” 

As Halblicht gently removed the body, he looked over his shoulder and caught Simon's eye. To his surprise, he noticed Halblicht shake his head very slightly, as if in answer to a question. 

Simon frowned, not knowing quite if he was making the right assumption, but–

"Why don't we look together, Agent Kelso? Two heads, as they say, are better than one." He stepped around toward the other side of the car.

“They say that!” Kelso laughed cheerfully, before waving her hand, the bullet vanishing down her sleeve. “If you asked Agent Ash, she’d probably say it’s at least better than just mine, anyway.” she lightly rapped her knuckles on the side of her head. “let’s take a peek.”

Athena tilted her head, and her brow furrowed as she listened to the conversation. She glanced back. “Actually, there was something I wanted to ask Agent Ash about the cars…” 

"What was that, Ms. Cykes?" Halblicht asked as he lay the body down on the pavement next to the other.

“I wanted to ask Agent Ash something about the cars.” She spoke up “...their procurement , specifically. And if there’s any way to track and ID cars used by Interpol agents. I think we can solve the ‘two bodies, two cars’ discrepancy that way.” 

As Simon busied himself looking in the car's passenger seat, he thought that that was a very interesting question indeed.

December 25, 8:20 am

When Phoenix, Miles and Kay met up with Gumshoe and with the girls in the hotel dining room, the first thing that happened was a minor change of plans. Trucy invited Kay to go see Klavier and his commercial with them.

Miles looked at Kay with a raised eyebrow. "Well, Ms. Faraday– it's up to you. Admittedly, I think I have enough backup for this investigation if you'd rather."

Indeed, Miles had rarely felt as well backed up as he did with both Phoenix and Gumshoe there.

“If you’re sure, boss.” Kay had said, glancing between them. In the end, the siren call of bothering a rock star all day won out, and she’d agreed to go along with Trucy and Pearl…leaving the trio to do their work.

“I won’t lie, sir.” Gumshoe said, “I kinda appreciate havin’ something to do today.” 

"And I'll appreciate having your… unique skills and way of looking at the world, Detective," Miles drawled with amusement. "Enjoy the day, Kay. Make sure to get some pictures."

“You got it, sir!” Kay snapped a salute. “I’ll steal you one of his guitars, alright?”

“Don’t…Don’t say that to us, Miss Kay.” Gumshoe pleaded “I don’t wanna have to testify in court.” 

With the pleasantries out of the way, and Phoenix securing multiple promises from Trucy and Pearl that they'd check in throughout the day, the prosecutor, the attorney, and the detective headed out toward the parking lot.

"Nostalgic, in a way, isn't it?" Miles mused.

“Sure is, sir. Reminds me of all them times you and I solved mysteries overseas.” he chuckled richly. “Guess ya still get the itch now and again eh?” 

"Can't keep Edgeworth away from a good mystery," Phoenix chuckled.

"Or a bad one." Miles smirked and shook his head. "You know, I'm not sure the three of us have all been on one investigation together like this."

“Nah , every time we managed to get on one of these, Phoenix was off fuckin’ around, sir.” 

"Hey, that's not true!" Phoenix complained. "I was not the one 'fucking around' off solving mysteries over seas. Besides, the three of us have been on plenty of investigations together– just not exactly on the same side."

"And thus, not in the same room at the same time, Wright," Miles tutted. "So this is a fairly novel experience."

They strolled outside into the cold air where their breath came out in puffs, and Miles headed toward where he'd been told his rental car for the day would be parked.

Gumshoe laughed, clapping his hands together. “Two she, Phoenix. Ya got a good point.”

He had probably meant to say touche…but the word was very much lost in translation.

Miles was about to speak up to correct him, when he gave pause, looking at the car next to his own. The driver's side window was wide open, and he immediately noticed that it wasn't merely rolled down, but that there were specs of glass littered in the space where it would have rolled into.

"Oh dear. I think someone's car's been robbed."

Gumshoe’s brow furrowed. 

“...That ain’t good. That ain’t good at all.” He leaned forward to inspect it with a rub of his chin. ‘We should report it, yeah? “ 

"Of course we should," Miles said. And they should– but his curiosity was piqued.

Phoenix caught up. "Uh-oh, I know that tone."

“Oh ho ho!” Gumshoe rubbed his hands together. “is it time to meddle, Mr. Edgeworth, sir??” 

Edgeworth flushed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well– as curious as I am to do so, we have more pressing business today. Let's take down the license plate and give the information to the front desk. If something hasn't been done about it by the time we get back…"

Phoenix slapped Edgeworth companionably on the shoulder. "Then we'll indulge your meddling, Edgeworth."

He made a noise and adjusted his cravat. "Quite."

#dick gumshoe #apollo justice #miles edgeworth #phoenix wright #athena cykes #bobby fulbright #simon blackquill #ema skye #trucy wright #pearl fey #blackbright #phantomquill #ace attorney #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #archive of our own #ao3 #fic: in justice we trust

[loki-darkprince-odinson]

King Loki, I apologize for the rant but I would like some advice.

My father always makes me feel like complete garbage. He is always putting me down, never appreciates me, and makes my depression so much worse. I'm fixing up a house to move in with my friends but I'm still stuck at the house since my parents won't help me get my license or a car, much less a job. I cook, do dishes, take care of the pets, take out the trash, get the mail, do my laundry, wash towels, and help with their laundry. I also take care of my sick mother and while I'm currently on summer break, I'm going to college to become a clinical psychologist. Even then, my father will point out other things that I don't do, and expects me to clean the entire house every day. He always talks about how he needs to do everything around the house yet all he does is sleep, play video games, and watch television. He also says he works hard yet on many occasions he says he sits on his ass all day on his tablet. He also yells so much. I get scared every day when he starts yelling because I worry he may leave us, which he has threatened before, or he may actually hit us. He never has hit either my mother or I yet, and says he never would but he slams and throws things when angry at us so it's his way of showing us how much he wants to hit us, even if he doesn't realize it. However, not only do I have many responsibilities, My depression makes it difficult for me to do much, and he makes it worse. Even when I do try to clean the house he always makes comments such as: "About time." or "How long until it gets cleaned next time?" or "This was half assed, you didn't do it right." I have tried so hard to have a connection with him but I'm so tired of fighting for a relationship that he doesn't care about. I can't address my concerns with him because he will threaten to not take me to college and pay the bills. Do you have any advice to help me deal with my father until I can escape?

Best regards, Catrina.

“Catrina,” Loki drawls, in his smooth resonate voice. “I firstly must commend your good work. For caring for your ill mother, minding the household needs, and that you get up in the morning even if your soul is weary and your bones ache for a rest; that you keep on living even if you do not know how to anymore. Secondly, you have my deepest sympathies for your grievances. I am all too familiar with what it is like to seek the approval of a parent; only for there to be none in return.” His eyes were completely unfocused, yet his pallid features bore the most intense concentration as memories flowed unbidden.

He says nothing for a moment. Then, something in the edge of his mouth—and the corner of his eyes—resembled the ghost of a sad smile.

“Those whom I knew and called my mother and father are dead. That much is beyond dispute. They were not my real parents, but they raised me as their own. I daresay they loved me. That had been in dispute, at least in my own mind for awhile. I found out very late that my identity was a lie. Not Asgardian, not a son of Odin, I was completely unmade. That was how I felt when I learned of my true parentage. I was a fraud, a monster; it explained so much. It explained why I never felt like I fit in, why I would never be my brother's equal, why I would never get what I'd been promised my whole life.” His voice was soft, hoarse. Intent.

Loki raises his left hand and rests his forefinger against his lips as a line forms between his own eyebrows in thought.

“I have lingered around Midgard long enough to come to an understanding of how your minds tick. I shall do my best to give advice where I can.

Try, if you will, to put things into perspective. The most loving parents commit murder with smiles on their faces. They force one to destroy the person they really are: a subtle kind of murder. Even the most loving parents damage their children with the best intentions—to protect them, to guide them, to better them. In most cases, it would appear they do it by imprinting their own fears and prejudices on them.

The point is, parents are mere, imperfect people.

They have flaws, struggles and impaired judgement. They have both emotional and intellectual handicaps. Regardless of their parental role, they are afflicted by personal blockages and limitations.

But most of all, they are people who make mistakes, and who are terrified of being judged by their children.

Learn to see your difficult parent as just that; human. Learn to see their emotional immaturity as a type of disability.

With that in mind, you would do well to keep your expectations of them low.

In many ways the effect a difficult parent has on ones self is fueled by their feelings of injustice and the belief that things could be different, or ought to be different.

In other words, your expectations dictate how you feel.

You need to let go of your expectations and accept your parent for who they are.

You cannot expect someone with, say, a narcissistic personality, to act with empathy and kindness. No more than you can expect a scorpion not to sting.

Difficult parents are much easier to deal with when you accept that they will not change. So do not expect of them more than they are capable of, and you will not be disappointed or hurt.

Do not fall into the illusion of guilt, Catrina.” He warns. “A difficult parent loves nothing more than to make you feel like you’ve hurt them. Or, in a different scenario, like you’re a bad person if you do not do something they ask.

Do not fall for it. If they’re setting a guilt trap, calmly tell them that you do not appreciate being emotionally manipulated, and you will not tolerate it anymore.

Manipulators, and I should know, detest being called out on their dirty tricks.

If they continue to harass you, reiterate that you cannot do what they’re asking you to do this time, and you need them to respect that.

The trick is agreeing with everything they’re saying (how can they argue when you agree with them?) and re-stating your decision over and over again.

Now this part I find to be… far more easier said than done. You must let go of the need for your father's approval, Catrina. It goes without saying that every child needs and wants their parents’ approval. It is normal to want it, and it is normal to receive it.

Yet so many have to accept the fact that this is not going to happen. For whatever reason, their parent has chosen to withhold their approval. Some difficult parents do it as a form of punishment. While others hope to influence their child in the “right” direction.

Most likely, your father loves you, but they have a very warped idea of what parental love is.

In their misguided quest to make you into a version of themselves, they missed the chance to get to know you. And so they cannot appreciate you for the wonderful being that you are.”

He shrugs elegantly. “It is their loss. When you realize this and let go of the need for their approval, you will be able to start living your life in a whole new way.

When confronting your father, be direct and calm without expecting a specific response. That is the part you cannot control. The part that is within your control is letting your thoughts and feelings known, which is empowering.

Stick to the facts and use “I” statements such as, “I feel like my words do not matter to you when you constantly interrupt me” or “I feel scared and misunderstood when you yell at me”

Remember that manipulative parents are not known for their empathy. They will try to confuse you, go on the offensive, or assume the role of a victim.

Do not allow them to bully you into submission by invoking guilt or pity. State your case in a calm and polite manner, and stay cool regardless of their response.

Your goal is to be honest about your feelings, and to make it clear that you will not tolerate certain behaviors.” He softly clears his throat.

“Last but not least, an unhappy alternative is forgoing the relationship that is too harmful. I know, a parent is not someone you can so easily cut out of your life. But if all else fails and your father continues to cause you psychological harm, then this may very well need to be taken into considerable consideration; at least for the foreseeable future. Sometimes it is the only logical recourse.

A parent that is fundamentally incapable of showing love and support, unable to see the error of their ways after numerous attempts to communicate how their behavior or words affect you, consistently dismissive, demeaning or critical, manipulative in a habitual manner, punishing and cruel whenever you disobey, are disrespectful of your boundaries and using threats and intimidation to get what they want is a destructive force that will continue to tear you down until you put a stop to it.

It is not an easy feat, my dear. The parent-child bond is hardwired into the brain, which means children get attached to even the most awful of parents.

But consider the cost of having that toxic relationship in your life—stress breeds anxiety, depression, internalized feelings of inadequacy, and failed personal relationships.

I wish you all the best, Catrina. I truly do.”

#loki #loki rp #loki odinson #ask loki #ask #parental troubles #gothiccatrina #loki roleplay

[kafkaesque97]

Are you okay love?

I don’t know you enough, but you can let it all out if it would help you…

Thank you for being so lovely, seems like a waterfall of situations led to a rough, cry myself to sleep night. I'm going to take the chance and just let it all out as you said.

I had vigorous anxiety and crying outbursts as a teenager and my early 20s and only got rid of them recently through persistent meditation and exercising but lost my track with that and these waves of emotions are coming back, fortunately as I woke up my mood wasn't dreary and grey, which often happen whenever I have depressive episodes.

As a note I was given a very fast 'chronic depression' score once bc that was needed to get medication but never a word from my psychologists. Perhaps I get some weird satisfaction from tricking people into thinking I'm doing well when I'm obviously not (but only I know that). Anyways, I meditated and did breath exercises for an hour to allow my brain to rest.

I've found myself to be quite selfish in the sense I expect people to worry about me and reach put even though I push them away and so to speak gatekeep myself (childhood trauma is involved in all of this, quite honesty)

I'm trying to free myself from the burden of needing constant approval and reassurance but it has deep roots in me and a little bit of it is just human nature, however my volatile state as I fall into episodes can make it greatly dysfunctional and as years go by that need is making me lose the enjoyment in doing things for the sake of doing them.

I used to have EDnos and extremely low self esteem and had to get out of those without psychological help and it shows. I built my self esteem on loose and dangerous foundations, once again based on external approval, and have a hard time doing otherwise even nowadays (and my career is quite making me doubtful of my intellectual abilities plus depression destroyed my memory so I'm having a hard time believing in myself)

So yeah, lots of death valleys where I sometimes fall, and sometimes a small to mild inconvenience just create a domino effect. I'm trying not to get devoured once again by the void

From the bottom of my heart, thanks for asking, I hope you always have someone who listens to you when you most need it