#CW: Suicide Discussion

[astronicht]

Hi I hope this isn't presumptuous, but so, that post you made about Tolkien making the lads leave their weapons outside the hall and CS Lewis thinking the hall was gonna get burned down by a lady who also wanted to kill herself... what's the historical precedent for that? Is there a trope in medieval lit where people like... do that? I ask because uh. I am obsessed with Children of Hurin and there's a scene where that like, happens. And I'm obsessed with that scene, and would love to know if there's like, cultural/mythic context that would enrich my knowledge!

OH BOY, sorry I'm getting to this late, it's been uhhh a summer, but one, this is a very good question!! And two, yes there is absolutely precedent, particularly in early medieval literature, and high medieval literature set in the early medieval (circa 500-1100 AD) past. I'll let someone else debate how often people actually historically locked their enemies into a hall and burned them, but especially in Old Norse literature (and if Fellowship felt like it leaned a little more on Old English literature, Two Towers, where Eowyn appears, felt a little more Old Norse) this is common. Off the top of my head, you've got many Icelandic family feuds ending in burning the whole family in their hall, like Njal's Saga (Old Norse), Attila the Hun dramas (yeah he's a big guy in the burning halls circuit, but actually not in the way you might expect) like his cameos in Volsung Saga (Old Norse) and Nibelungelied (Middle High German), and my vague recollection of a few Irish and Welsh versions that no search engine is giving up for me right now.

This, predictably, got long and slightly off topic.

Disclaimer: As usual, I should say I come from an Old English-centric background, and Old English literature is actually notable among all its neighbors for not burning down too many halls. Second disclaimer, all links are not proper citations, they just go to wiki.

Hall-burning in literature is, to my understanding, part of the concerns of a few early medieval cultures in which revenge is not only expected but in many cases legally reinforced and codified, and one in which conflicts could spiral to engulf -- figuratively, or literally and in flames -- entire families. Many medieval Icelandic sagas are focused on this exact type of destruction of whole families or friendship/community units. Most relevant of these to Eowyn, Two Towers, and the vibes of Edoras (since alas I am only partway into RotK and can't speak to Children of Hurin yet!) is Volsung Saga, which is set on the Continent, not Iceland, and actually has to do with Attila the Hun. As mentioned before, an incredible amount of stuff turns out to have to do with Attila. We will come back to him!

So, on the particular post you're talking about, a few people iirc have replied pointing out that the hall in TT is clearly supposed to be based on a hall from Old English literature, namely the hall in Beowulf, which famously did not actually get burnt down. And that's all true! I was not posting with much nuance; I was mostly having a joke at the expense of CS Lewis. However, I was also referencing a very very common trope in Old Norse/early medieval stories, and I personally think JRR was as well (AND I think Beowulf was also very consciously referencing the exact same motif anyway) (no one has to agree with me, a tumblr blog, on any of these points).

The thing about the hall when our heroes approach is that the scariest damn thing in that hall is Eowyn. Certainly not every hall-burning story requires a woman with no other recourse to set the fire (in fact, the "warrior band approaches unknown hall which might have a grudge against them" is a trope that can get you killed in a pretty homosocial environment, as I guess Aragorn at least was aware, being a big reader). Still, the presence of a woman who is swiftly running out of options does fit what I'd consider one of the or perhaps The best known version of the early medieval burning hall trope: Gudrun, who shows up in at least a dozen different texts in both the Scandinavian and the German language traditions, including Volsung Saga, a text which itself often gets paraded around as the basis of lotr (which I'm sure it is, in that JRR appears to have simply and very fairly based lotr on every piece of early medieval vernacular literature I can think of).

In a portion of Gudrun's story (which of course changes a bit in each retelling), after her first marriage she is unhappily married to Atli, who is none other than our main man Attila the Hun. After Attila kills her brothers for reasons (in one version, her father), seeing no other way to take the necessary revenge and no other way out, she kills the two sons she had by him, serves them to Attila for dinner, has Attila killed, and then sets fire to the hall with everyone in it. After this, she attempts to drown herself.

The self-destruction of this act is a really important beat, and has only gotten more-so as a comparison to Eowyn the further I've read into RotK (currently, I'm at the houses of healing after merry and eowyn take on the witch king). It's a lot clearer in the book than the films, for me, that Eowyn going off to battle was not so a straightforward empowering and/or freeing move, despite allowing her some agency, but more the one path she saw as available to her with which to die with honor (which was pretty much exactly what Gudrun was facing as well). Like Gudrun, whose first husband was a great hero but has died, Eowyn's romantic choice is a hero who is presumed dead (sorry Aragorn they did Not believe in your ghost skills). In fact, in some versions Gudrun does put on armor and fight with her brothers before they're killed. She kills Attila with her own hand, with the help of another man who needs to avenge a blood feud against Attila.

So while Eowyn didn't get forced into marriage to Attila Wormtongue (with apologies to both historical Attila and that one historical skald also called Wormtongue who was reportedly hot) and burn the whole place down, she's still trapped, and like Gudrun chooses destruction alongside her household.

Reading her arc feels so much like watching Tolkien write a fix-it for Gudrun. What if she got this one little chance, and this one other little chance, and this one more -- tiny little shifts in the narrative that allow her to get out, and not through fire, and not through death.

Anyway, this got away from me. I hope it added some context to the Children of Hurin arson case! Thanks for the ask

[grendel-menz]

optimistic from now on

[ruegarding]

in relation to the last post, the entire plotline is poorly executed.

annabeth's reaction to percy in tartarus is normal, like, not good, but normal. percy's not only challenging the laws of the world, he's indulging cruelty. being afraid is a normal reaction to have. despite that, it's still a conflict that needs to be resolved...and it's not.

immediately afterwards it's like ok back to normal! the jagged edges of percy's soul smooth over and annabeth is back to business (which immediately begets the question: why did rick write that then? which is never answered. the point? missing*). like, the actual issue isn't even addressed. before turning the poison onto akhlys, percy is being tortured w it (and nothing annabeth tries stops it). percy isn't doing this bc it's fun and exciting. he's doing this bc he was feeling so angry, so hurt, so scared, so traumatized that he resorted to hurting someone to make himself feel better. this is literally never addressed.

even in boo, annabeth's arc isn't abt learning to not be afraid or to trust percy again, it's to allow herself to be afraid. w piper. away from percy. and she never confronts percy directly, she never reconciles her fear w percy, they never address how this changes their relationship. also piper is there bc annabeth is so freaked out by percy that now piper is freaked out by percy. which is. a separate issue that is only an issue bc once again it never gets resolved.

and then w percy obviously he has his suicide attempt. like, he thought what he did in tartarus was so unforgivable that he not only believed that he deserved to die, but deserved to die slowly and painfully from something that he could easily prevent. like. that's the thing. percy's powers come easily to him. do u know how low he would have to be to not even subconsciously try to save himself? and the only response is a "i think i get it" from someone who's perspective does not properly convey the severity of the situation (ppl read this scene without even realizing it's a suicide attempt). once again, percy and annabeth do not confront this conflict together. percy tries to kill himself and the narrative is like...anyway.

if rick didn't know how to handle this, or even if he just didn't want to write it, he didn't have to write it. any of it.

but it's not that rick doesn't know how to handle this situation bc he writes the same thing in boo and handles it a million times better. nico and reyna have a very similar situation to percy and annabeth and the inclusion of both of these scenes and the difference in how they're handled ends up vilifying annabeth in the narrative.

reyna and nico have known each other for less time. they have built up less trust. and yet. when nico challenges the laws of the world and indulges cruelty in a way that reminds reyna of her extremely traumatizing backstory, she comforts nico. she doesn't treat him like he's dangerous. hedge tells him "we all get angry" and reyna vehemently agrees. nico is given explicit support even before he can start spiraling. and when nico is told to not use that power, it's bc of how it affected him, not how it made them feel, not that it's unnatural.

this shows that there was a correct answer. annabeth didn't have it, and suddenly her "normal" reaction looks bad in comparison. but instead of addressing this in any meaningful capacity, we're going to ignore it and send p*rcabeth to college. #relationshipgoals.

it's such a narrative failure. and rick could've just. not written it.

[callmearcturus]

what do you think about hal is he good evil or just misunderstood thoughts??

Hal as in Whomstve Hal?

Here's my problem: I am, like, the One Person in the fandom who just doesn't find Hal all that interesting. I get what's going on, but I'm not invested, maybe because I spent all my Super Invested points on Jane and Jake when others don't find them as interesting.

Hal is not "evil" though or misunderstood, IMO, because that implies there is a Correct way to interpret him.

That said, I do consider a Litmus Test of Did You Actually Understand Act 6 to be the simple question of: Who orchestrated Synchronize/Unite? Because if you think it was Dirk, then I would recommend rereading the opening three acts of Act 6 again.

The entire Synch/Unite thing is, to me, the one of the two interesting things Hal does. The S/U deal is this ultimate devil's bargain that Dirk strikes to save everyone. Hal will direct him and get everyone back alive again... but in return, Hal is going to kiss Jake first. Which is in of itself a Complicated price, given the animosity between Hal and Jake, and how Jake does understand more than pretty much anyone what Hal truly is... but covers it up with obfuscation to avoid how uncomfortable it makes him.

But I'm also of the opinion that Jake's belief in Dirk, his Hope Bullshit, is partially why the AR project even succeeded, and I find his culpability in it fascinating. Dirk and Jake keep making surrogate children out of their powers, it's hilarious.

Anyway, the other thing Hal does that's interesting is the Suicide Conversation on the rooftop, which to me is fascinating because as Dirk gets angrier and angrier (on some level rightly imo) at Hal's manipulations, the trump card that Hal pulls is "Of course I'm scared of dying, aren't you?"

Because Dirk isn't scared of dying. He categorically proves this so frequently that it's arguably one of his core character traits. He kills himself in Synch-Unite, he considers his dream self hella expendable, he kills himself in the Game Over timeline, he has no problem killing himself on the slabs of Derse but can't bear to hurt Roxy (even when its literally the Right Choice in the moment and impermanent besides), he kills himself in [S] Collide to defeat the Jacks--

Dirk Strider is not afraid of dying. But Hal is, and that is proof that Hal and Dirk are not even remotely the same person, that they diverged long ago. And IMO that's part of why Dirk goes "fuck it" and prototypes Hal, because that's not him. If Hal was just another splinter of Dirk, he'd just kill him(/himself) again, no big deal. But Hal is not a Dirk anymore.

Anyway, I guess to sum up: I unfortunately mostly like Hal in the ways he is Not Dirk. That's the interesting shit.

[faislittlewhiteraven]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Except of course that's not what happens.

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

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

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

...Wow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[definitelynotshouting]

context: ik most of my asks are pretty disorganized, stream of consciousness type of thing but GEEZ this got out of hand. you know that thing cats do when they bring you a dead mouse and *they're* super proud of it and you're just like dude.. why /lh

i usually put whatever my immediate thoughts are after reading the chapter and this time i thought it might be fun to write it out before. can you tell im running on five hours of sleep?? lmk if this made any coherent sense because even i dont understand it!!

so last chapter ripped my heartt out and stomped on it. i am LIVING for the way this whole thing was written, gorgeous prose as always <3. i was very curious as to wether Mumbo would question Grian but i think him NOT doing that was SO in character, and i adore it. I feel like w/ some fics (my own writing included) Scar is the ONLY one Grian relies on for support (in ANY area), and whenever Mumbo is even in the picture, he's just kinda "there", he doesn't check up on Grian or broach the topic of whatever is currently plaguing our little bird guy (basically, he's not involved in Grian's life despite being "his best friend"). And the way you characterized him was just So Real?? I would wager a guess (correct me if im wrong ofc) that part of it is that he just DOESNT know, (because Grian is oh so good at telling half truths and privately justifying his self sabotage) but a part of it is also him being lowkey willfully ignorant. he doesnt WANT Grian to be sick (mentally or otherwise) but definetly knows that SOMETHING is up. he really WANTS to help fix whatever is going on (evident by the gold farm) but he doesnt know what Grian needs or how to help him.

i have been OBSESSING over how Grian saying goodnight to Mumbo was ACTUALLY his goodbye to him but Mumbo DOESNT KNOW AND ITS EATING ME ALIVE. (also thought it was super interesting how Grian sort of took Mumbo leaving to sleep as "permission" to do the deed)

side ish note: how tf does Grian even plan to do that?? ik he's got the spider eyes and i *think* he's planning to turn the healing potions into weakness potions but like?? how is he going to do that??? i would assume that the gang would be watching the potions AS they were brewing, and even if they weren't, healing potions and weakness potions are.... vastly different colors. (unless im mixing them up with something else). also aren't they going to walk in on him prepping or already being in the middle of it and just save him like last time? the team as a whole has done a pretty good job on keeping an eye on Grian (from just a "this person can't walk" standpoint) so far. is he waiting for a chance when everyone is busy or does he plan to use MORE weakness potions to make it stronger or quicker?? im interested to see if he's even going to follow The Plan, because up until this point he's been pretty careful with trying to make plans and sneak around EXCEPT for the spider eyes basement adventure, which makes me wonder is he'll get more frantic/desperate as the appointed time draws closer.

Real talk though, Mumbo (and everyone else) is going to be beating himself up over not noticing when stuff goes down (which i would assume would be next chapter, but idk). Also, the fact that Grian asked him to stay means A LOT. To me (and idk if this is what you meant to convey) that signals that a part of him WANTS to stay. theres a part of him that wants to continue to experience the comfort and joy he gets from his friends, but he feels like he's only going to continue to hurt them, so to him this is the ONLY option to keep them safe. also the majority of his existence is just misery and pain so thats probably not helping. (PLUS the whole slew of mental health issues, this is not purely self sacrificial).

anyway, i LOVED this chapter as always, it was like chicken noodle soup for my overworked little soul and i savored every bit of it!! (also, no need to apologize for not having enough spoons!! i dont have any chronic illnesses but i know that shit sucks. this is a particularly long ask for me so dont feel compelled to answer everything in it, or answer right away. hope ur doing well <3)

-🐛

BUG ANONNNN THIS COMMENT IS SO SWEET AND I LOVED READING IT OMGGGG

you hit the nail exactly on the head for where im going with mumbo's characterization-- there is 100% a level of willful ignorance there. Ive always felt like mumbo is the kind of guy who has a thing about avoidance-- he feels very much like a character who will absolutely do his best to ignore things that hes decided arent his business (right up until he stops LMFAO) and part of that in hunger au is him being so anxious for grian to get better that he stops looking at the red flags grian is aggressively waving around. It'll work out!! He's sure of it!! Grian even directly said he's trying to get better!! And i think if he looked at that for longer than it takes for him to flinch away from the entire subject, he would see how much of a bald lie that is.

But he doesnt, because thats a LOT to deal with, and hes never really??? Seen this side of Grian before??? Not the way Pearl and Scar have. Theres a lot of intricacy there that i feel im skimming over but like Mumbo is very much keeping his own sanity in mind here too and thats another painful factor to the whole situation. Idk i have lots of thoughts about it and about the choice here to depict Mumbo giving in to that willful ignorance, and how its going to affect his and Grian's relationship in the future of the fic

(Quick tw for frank discussions of suicide below)

You've also completely nailed the subtext i was getting at with Grian asking Mumbo to stay-- smth ive always felt is a bit underrepresented in narratives like these are how at its most base core, suicide and suicidal ideation are often about needing something to fundamentally change in your life. It takes a LOT of both hopelessness and sheer willpower to actively try and overcome your body's instinctive will to survive. That instinct is baked into our very cells; when someone commits, it means their hopelessness for meaningful change to happen in their lives was so strong it overpowered everything else. And that is something deeply, deeply tragic, and also something i really wanted to respectfully highlight in this portrayal-- how bad things are when you spiral that far. Grian is starving to death. He wasnt lying about maybe having a week to live-- the intermittent feeding has kept him alive longer than anticipated, but its like trying to wall off an avalanche; theres only so much you can do in the face of all that :( and that hopelessness, in combination with how guilty he feels for what he did to his friends, has manifested in him feeling like his only recourse is to kill himself... but at the same time, that instinct to survive and KEEP SURVIVING is still blaring in his veins, and that manifests as him asking Mumbo to stay. Its a bit paradoxical, but its meant to really show how bad his mental state is, that he is willfully ignoring all the frantic signals his body is screaming at him to try and stay alive rn 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Also, with the potions-- without revealing too much about how this is going to happen, Grian is planning on making fermented spider eyes and using them to turn the healing potions into harming potions, which he'll then drink in the in-between to make sure he dies immediately. Now.. i know how this is gonna go, and i know the exact mechanics around how this is gonna shake out, but smth to keep in mind is hes not thinking logically anymore, he has FULLY capitulated to his own storm of emotional wreckage. So yes there are DEFINITELY some questions to be asked about how hes gonna try and get this done, but in all honesty they mostly boil down to "sheer opportunity" which you'll see a bit more of in the next chapter >:] but yeah its meant to be a bit illogical skdbwkdjskd since he just isnt thinking coherently anymore at this point :(

Bug anon thank u for my entire life this comment was so sweet and so wonderful to receive, i really love it when my writing is analyzed like this and seen and understood!!! Its amazing its such a wonderful feeling to have your work be seen like this and its something i very much do not take for granted :]]]❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ tysm for the ask i am seriously treasuring it SO MUCH rn (and also thank you for the well-wishes!! Im doing my best to stay silly out here HEHE)❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[mourninglamby]

what were ur fav dsmp arcs and characters im wondering 👀

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[withthewindinherfootsteps]

Nie Huaisang and the Morality of Revenge

(Greatly expanded AO3 version here – I would definitely recommend that one more, but it's a little long for a tumblr meta)

"Take revenge on the ones who bite you. Wen Ning’s branch doesn’t have much blood on their hands."

There's a clear pattern as to how revenge is presented in MDZS. Though revenge against the ones who wronged you (or those close to you) isn't something you're morally obliged to do, it isn't condemned, and tends to be presented in the right. Revenge against innocents, however – that's where you draw the line.

All of which leaves Nie Huaisang in a very interesting position. Because though his target is the person directly responsible for his brother's death... those he's willing to harm to achieve that goal are not.

Vengeance in MDZS

MXTX: If you were to ask Wifi as to why he did not reveal [Nie Huaisang's] mask, it’s because there wasn’t enough evidence, there wasn’t a way to catch his tail (...) there was no way to punish him, because his reasons were righteous. - MXTX interview, translation here – 'Wifi' refers to Wei Wuxian

Now, it's one thing to say revenge is presented as right, and it's another thing to prove it. Why do I think this, and what material is there to support this in the actual text?

One major piece of evidence is Wei Wuxian himself.

If he were Chang Ping, he wouldn’t have cared how prominent or powerful the LanlingJin Sect was, or how much glory the road ahead offered him, and he wouldn’t have let the matter [of his clan being murdered] go. Instead, he would’ve went to the dungeons on his own, cut Xue Yang up so that he was nothing more than a puddle of flesh on the ground, and summoned his soul back to repeat the process to the point that he regretted ever being born in this world. - Chapter 33, EXR translation

This is something that Wei Wuxian thinks in the present day – not under pressure, not in the aftermath of anything traumatic. And the important thing is that it's never questioned. There isn't a moment where Wei Wuxian or anybody else dwells on this and thinks/says 'maybe I shouldn't keep retaliating like this' or 'will harming more people after their actions have already been taken actually fix anything, or just cause more damage?'. It's also never framed as a tragedy that these views don't change. There is a moment of thinking his past self went too far with his vengeance, but look at the context:

And for every one of the Wen Sect’s cultivators whom he killed, he made them into puppets as well before controlling them to kill the friends and family they had before they died. (...) Not only others, even when he, himself, thought about it afterward, he felt that he had done a bit too much. - Chapter 60, EXR translation

Killing their friends and family – yes, this is a war between clans (people with blood ties to each other)/sects (in which you spend most of your time around fellow members), so it's likely many of these are on the battlefield... but do we know this is the case for everyone? We know there are people and branches of the Wen sect who are noncombatants, and we know outer disciples exist, whose families may or may not be affiliated with the sect in some way. We also know resentful corpses can seek out, recognise and target people due to their bloodline without direct control (see Nie Mingjue finding Jin Guangyao and then targeting Jin Ling in Hatred and Concealment), so seeking out family members outside of the battlefield is possible. Out of the potentially thousands of people Wei Wuxian killed in this way, is it really that probable that every single one was guilty?

This is what I believe 'done a bit too much' means – targetting people who may or may not have been directly involved in action against Wei Wuxian/the allied sects.

There are also other instances of vengeance, directly against the ones who harmed you, being framed as justified (resurrecting Wen Ning to kill the inspectors that killed him, for example); as well as instances that aren't exactly vengeance but are still linked to punishing somebody for their bad deeds (seen a lot with Xue Yang – eg Xiao Xingchen demanding "severe punishment" for what Xue Yang did to the Chang clan in Chapter 30*, Wei Wuxian's "Xue Yang must die" after witnessing the Yi City flashbacks in Chapter 41), also framed this way.

But, first, a clarification.

MDZS may not condemn vengeance, but it does condemn holding onto resentment and letting it twist you, particularly when it leads to the harming of other people. And this is something important to note about Wei Wuxian's character, as well – he is quick to vengeance and retaliation, but that's exactly the point. He does the deed and then doesn't hold onto those feelings (under normal circumstances), instead carrying on to live his life with his adherence to his moral code unaltered**. See the Second Siege – a lot of these people directly contributed to the first siege on him, but he doesn't hold onto his resentment and decide not to save them as a result. Instead, he and Lan Wangji work to save them as well as the Juniors at great personal risk to themselves. That's why most of his actions are justified by the narrative, and why the two times he does act based on feelings of resentment he holds (Sunshot Campaign in the above quote, and Nightless City***), his actions aren't.

Back to vengeance itself.

Of course, vengeance is not presented as the only course of action! Lan Wangji doesn't do anything to avenge Wei Wuxian's death, instead focusing his energy on helping people and on teaching the younger generation to avoid the mistakes his made, and he's all the better for it. The line immediately following Wei Wuxian's thoughts on Chang Ping and Xue Yang is this:

But, not everyone was like him[.]

Which is followed by understanding for Chang Ping's situation, especially taking into account the fact that "some of the Chang clan's people were still alive" and may have been casualities if vengeance was carried out. Revenge isn't something you're obliged to do – and when the alternative is protecting others, is arguably less important. But, in itself, it isn't a moral wrong. As someone I talked to about writing this meta said, it's often the only way to bring someone who has done bad deeds to justice (which the story supports: see my earlier points about Xue Yang, as well as MXTX saying Xue Yang "deserved to be beaten by the protagonist") in a society which often leaves bad deeds unpunished and good deeds condemned.

(Of course you're allowed to disagree with this view of vengeance and punishment – I do myself – but that's what I believe to be the story's view on the matter.)

When it does become a moral wrong is when it targets innocent people.

Going Too Far?

As we've discussed, there two scenarios where revenge is presented as in wrong: the above, and being corrupted by the resentment you hold due to continously seeking your vengeance. And more often than not, these scenarios are strongly tied to each other. The sects targeting the Wen remnants after the Sunshot Campaign is an example of the former, as is Xue Yang's murder of the Chang clan; Nie Mingjue's single-minded hatred of Jin Guangyao is a clear example of the latter. Even if Jin Guangyao did do the actions Nie Mingjue had hated him for (and he did!), the resentment Nie Mingjue carried due to this eventually led to his death (through its amplification by the Collection of Turmoil). We also have a reversal of scenario two with Jin Ling's arc of learning to let go of his hatred, which deserves its own post.

But even in the above, there are traces of the other problem. Were the sects not blinded by their resentment and prejudice against anyone with a Wen name? Did Xue Yang's experience with Chang Ci'an and the injustice/resentment he felt from that not negatively impact him? And did Nie Mingjue's anger at Jin Guangyao (even if it was supernaturally amplified) not lead him to lash out at Nie Huaisang, an innocent in this scenario? And other scenarios are even more intertwined with both, for example Jiang Cheng pursuing ghost/demonic cultivators after Wei Wuxian's death (scenario 1) due to his hatred and resentment (scenario 2).

This relationship is very interesting, since it leads to the idea that holding onto resentment does make you more likely to target innocent people – ie, it often leads to loss of critical thinking, something else that's strongly condemned in the novel (as the force behind mob mentality, etc). It's also eerily similar to people's ideas of what practicing guidao, aka cultivation using resentful energy, does to you ("damag[ing] your heart" – LWJ, Chapter 62)... as well as to the loss of discernment that occurs both times Wei Wuxian loses control of his cultivation (Wen Ning accidentally targeting Jin Zixuan, the corpses accidentally targeting Jiang Yanli)****!

As for why this sort of vengeance is presented as wrong, I think it's pretty obvious – it harms innocent people as well as yourself. There isn't really any good in that.

Nie Huaisang In Context

So, with all that said... let's finally look at Nie Huaisang.

As MXTX has said, she believes his reasons were justified. His aim wasn't to take revenge on innocents, which avoids scenario one (in motives, at least). Whether or not Nie Huaisang was 'corrupted' due to resentment he felt is a little harder to judge***** – we don't really know his inner workings before Nie Mingjue is killed, so we don't know his moral code or what he's willing to do before then. We're also not there for the vast majority of his planning, so we don't know how he changed during that period, and by the time we're in the story proper, his mask is too good to really discern anything about his attitude... and we don't see much of him afterwards, either, the only thing being him starting to his more competent side when organising the coffin sealing ceremony. So we'll leave scenario two as an unknown, and not comment – however, it should be noted that vengeance doesn't seem to affect Nie Huaisang's critical thinking.

But what's unique about his vengeance isn't motives, direct targets, or the effect it has on him. It's something we haven't really seen before – the effect on those who weren't his targets, but were still heavily harmed. In other words, collaterals.

The most obvious example is probably Mo Xuanyu:

Perhaps to gain information from Mo XuanYu, Nie HuaiSang talked to him once. From Mo XuanYu’s grievances, he knew that Mo XuanYu had once read the fragmented manuscript that recorded an ancient, forbidden technique in Jin GuangYao’s collection. He then urged Mo XuanYu, who had had enough of the humiliation coming from his own clan members, to seek revenge using the forbidden technique of body sacrifice. - Chapter 109, EXR translation

Was Mo Xuanyu a direct target, someone who Nie Huaisang knew was innocent yet decided to take vengeance on anyway? No. But was he provided an avenue to and motive for suicide by Nie Huaisang, as part of his plan to take revenge on someone else? Yes! And Mo Xuanyu isn't the only death Nie Huaisang had a hand in causing – perhaps his is even the least direct. After all, he was responsible for releasing the hand at Mo Manor as well, leading to the deaths of four people (the Mo family and A-Tong) and endangering many more (the junior disciples, the rest of the household's servants). Yes, this wasn't his aim – he wanted Wei Wuxian to subdue it and start investigating the case – but he knowingly endangered everyone while doing so, and in the end the hand was subdued as quickly as it was by Lan Wangji's involvement, who he couldn't have known was there!

There's also the case of luring the Juniors to Yi City, purely to place more blame on Jin Guangyao if they'd died there! That isn't even necessary to taking down Jin Guangyao and figuring out the case of the corpse, as resurrecting Wei Wuxian and releasing the hand arguably were (Nie Huaisang could've tried to expose Jin Guangyao earlier, but we don't know which way public opinion would've swayed – that isn't necessarily a point in his favour, just a remark)! Then he threatened Jin Guangyao with the letter, leading to the events of the Second Siege which endangered and nearly killed "thousands" (Chapter 68) of people, as well as to the events at the Guanyin temple which nearly killed Jin Ling and Wei Wuxian and endangered more... and there are the smaller things too, like killing those cats, potentially dismembering the innocent Meng Shi's corpse, and possibly knowing about Sisi for a while before freeing her (she said she was freed "recently" in Chapter 85 – but to be fair, we don't know how recently he found out, or how long ago exactly she was freed. She wasn't necessarily freed right before she gave the testimony). We can't forget about potentially endangering many people who lived in Qinghe due to causing the Nie sect to greatly decline, and making himself seem like somebody useless, meaning people likely wouldn't go to him for help if they needed it.

In conclusion: a lot of people were killed, harmed or endangered in his plan. So, with a potential body count that would've (...nearly. maybe. not quite.) rivalled Wei Wuxian's had things gone wrong... where does that leave him in the eyes of the narrative? Do the ends justify the means?

...It's interesting.

Slowly, Nie HuaiSang brushed together his storm-drenched hair, “I think that if this person hates Jin GuangYao so much, they’d probably be entirely merciless towards something he cherishes more than his life.” (...) Perhaps (...) he didn’t want to admit that he used others as pawns, treating human lives as nothing. - Chapter 110, EXR translation

Nie Huaisang's actions are certainly framed as some of wrong. This is consistent with the closest example we have to his actions also being framed as in the wrong (Nie Mingjue harming others by lashing out while hating Jin Guangyao, albeit on a much smaller scale, with durations, intentions, presences of plans, the effect holding onto resentment had on them also being very different; possibly Jin Guangyao himself in his plan to kill Jin Guangshan, although that's obviously not the only condemnable action Jin Guangyao takes, and he very much does intentionally harm others even if it wouldn't really contribute to his aims (burning down the brothel, giving the Tingshan He sect to Xue Yang to experiment on, killing the prostitues when he could've bribed them and forcing them to keep on going even once Jin Guangshan was dead, among many other things)... there really aren't many similar situations to Nie Huaisang's in the novel), even though they're framed this way for different reasons (being blinded by resentment vs knowingly endangering others as part of a wider plan).

Yet, on the other hand, it isn't considered a tragedy that his actions went unpunished – and with reference to MXTX's quote about Nie Huaisang, this isn't accidental (with a slight caveat we're about to talk about).

In the end, it comes down to another, very related, theme.

Conjectures were conjectures, after all. Nobody had evidence. - Chapter 110, EXR translation

MXTX: If you were to ask Wifi as to why he did not reveal [Nie Huaisang's] mask, it’s because there wasn’t enough evidence, there wasn’t a way to catch his tail. - MXTX requote, start of this meta

Think critically. Don't target somebody without evidence. Don't target someone who may not have done something wrong.

Don't target innocent people in pursuit of vengeance, or justice.

That's the main reason Nie Huaisang wasn't exposed. Would Wei Wuxian have exposed him had he had the evidence needed? Maybe – we can't really say. He did endanger a lot of people. But targeting him without evidence, letting suspicions drive actions, would make Wei Wuxian – and indeed, anyone who did so – no better than the mob that does the same thing throughout the novel.

They're also doing it in pursuit of what they think is justice, or vengeance, or an intertwined mixture of the two, after all.

---

*Which is quite similar to Wei Wuxian's own thoughts when first told about it (in the quote). This further supports the assumption that this line of thinking is presented as justified, due to Xiao Xingchen himself being written as an ideal of goodness:

When writing paragraphs about Xue Yang, I had to adjust my mentality to be in the darkest, cruellest state, while it was the exact opposite for Xiao XingChen, from whom I felt holy light every time I wrote about him. - MXTX's postscripts (Chapter 113.5), EXR translation

**"Forgetting the pain as soon as the wound has healed" is a phrase that's used to describe him in the novel, and while it's generally used to describe somebody not learning a lesson after a punishment, it describes this aspect of him perfectly.

***Relevant quote:

Wei WuXian had already lost his judgement. He was already half-mad, half-unconscious. All evil was being augmented by him. He felt that everyone loathed him and he loathed everyone as well.

Holding onto those feelings of loathing and resentment is directly tied to losing judgement and presence of mind – which demonstrates this theme better than any analysis can, I think.

****For more analysis on the themes of resentment and how resentful energy ties into that, this amazing meta by @rynne delves into it more deeply than I do here – I really recommend a read!

*****MXTX does say this earlier on in the same interview:

As to whether it was purely to take revenge, maybe he only had one motive. But afterwards, he wasn’t thinking purely on revenge.

Which does suggest that other more noble factors, such as prevention, may have played a role in his plan too. This seems to indicate Nie Huaisang wasn't completely overtaken by resentment, working to his favour in avoiding scenario 2. However, for the the purposes of this analysis, this isn't too important (and not just because there's nothing to prove or disprove it in the text) – such aims could be achieved by simply exposing Jin Guangyao without utternly destroying him, which is where the motivation of revenge and its effects comes in. It's this aspect of the plan that leads to Nie Huaisang endangering innocent people, which is what this meta dwells upon.

[psalacanthea]

idk just some DAI Solavellan stuff. Solas POV, 2.6k, Mature.

Three hours of pensive searching and troubled wandering had finally borne fruit.

Ellana had been impossible to find since their tumultuous arrival at Skyhold, a habit which had become her silent protest against what she could not change or control.  Solas understood, but he knew it was not merely suffering that drove her away.  It was also spite and anger, two emotions she felt perhaps more deeply than even he realized.  At first he had thought her reticence was merely distrust.

Now that they were acquainted, he could see instead the rage that fueled her silence and stubbornness, the hatred she bore towards the Chantry that had made an icon and a prisoner of her.

He had no doubt that Leliana had an idea of where the newly-christened Inquisitor was, but she and the spymaster had an odd understanding.  He hadn’t intended to overhear Ellana taking her own life hostage to make a point to Leliana, but it had deepened his understanding of her.  Solas had little doubt Ellana would in fact kill herself if they tried to drive her too far.

There was a selfishness in her he abhorred, but a desperation he understood.

Unfortunately, to find her forced a contemplative stroll through the ruins of what had been built over Tarasyl’an Te’las.  It was foreign enough to dull that distant pain, but every now and again there would be a sign.  A piece of Elvhen statuary shattered into gravel, visible only due to its material, hints of older stonework at the base of some walls.  The bones of an ancient dragon encased in stone formed long after its death.

She was atop the walls, in the center of an intact section bounded by shattered stonework; a destination with no easy path to reach it.

A tower kept it from view, but he had heard the sounds of metal on stone in the distance, giving her position away.  After navigating the crumbled stonework to the top, she came into view at last.  The way between them was treacherous, a long section of fallen wall caved by ancient siege weaponry, no doubt.  It was tumbled into a pile, some of which had fallen down the side of the cliff.  

She sat on the intact wall beyond it, her back to Solas, a campfire lighting her silhouette.  Tendrils of deep mahogany hair were pulled free of her messy braid, streaming in the cold wind that blew past; the only signs of motion from her.  He knew instantly why she had gone silent and still.

Better to simply admit his approach, then, since she knew he was coming.  “Were you intending to stay all night, I wonder?”

In one fluid movement, she rose.  Her limbs unfolded, and then extended, arms stretching over her head until she stopped, short and sharp with a wince.  The left elbow again, he imagined. The fingers stretched wide over her head towards the evening sky curled in, hands balling into fists as her arms fell like dead weight to her sides.  Turning on her toes, she faced him at last.

Her impenetrable, sharp-jawed face was calm, eyes dark with their current distance and the light behind her.

Wide lips pursed minutely as she walked to the edge of the wall, the crumbling gap and the tempestuous mountain wind between them.

“I am displeased to see you, falon.  You should take care.  If you keep pestering me on word of the Andrastians, I may begin to think of you in the same light.”

“The only curiosity I sate is my own, lethallan,” he said, ignoring her return to sarcastic formality.

A grim smile touched her lips, but not her cold voice.  “Not going to fetch me for Cassandra this time?”

“No.  I asked that she no longer involve me.”

Her expression was bland and unreadable, but her eyes were alight with a gleam of curiosity.  “Why?”

“In light of your considerable and ever-increasing quarrel with the Chantry, I have decided to alienate them rather than you,” Solas replied, rather than lying to her.  She accepted lies without question, but counted them, and he had already lied to her more than he was comfortable with.  Every lie compounded, and renewed scrutiny might see things he would rather not be seen.

Finally she smiled, half-hearted and rueful, shaking her head.  “Your placation skills are as impressive as ever.  Don’t feed me medicine and tell me it’s honey, Solas.”

“It was a great unkindness, what Leliana did.”

Her smile faded away, and the light left her eyes.  “I’m tired of shouting over the wind.  Find your way across or go away,” she said, turning on her heel and returning to her fire.  He could see the frustration in her sharp steps, in the way she threw herself down on the stones.

By now he knew that his struggling might amuse her, but it would garner no sympathy or softening of her attitude.  And so, rather than making a show of attempting the dangerous climb, a feat which would be simple for her, he made the trek simple for himself as well.  Using magic, of course.  

Whatever occupied her continued to, and he knew it wasn’t merely a show of ignoring him.  

  Crossing the ruined wall was completed in a heartbeat, and as she was watching he didn’t bother to reduce his ability down to a spell she might recognize and accept.  Ellana seemed intensely familiar with magic, he’d cast before without a staff in the midst of a fight and he’d seen her discreetly checking his hands for injuries at camp.  Which he’d had, of course.  Some singed fingertips were a small sacrifice to his facade.

Not that she had any herself, but unlike the humans she treated it as something unremarkable as lighting a fire with flint and steel.

“Mac na galla,” she cursed under her breath, in a language he recognized but did not understand.

Something from the Free Marches, which made sense considering her origin.

As he came close, able to see over her shoulder, he could see what she was doing.  A small, rectangular metal box rested next to her knee, an array of tools and half-finished pieces spread before her.  Resting in the heart of her fire was a small crucible approximately the size of a teapot, which was filled with melted metal.  The source of her curse seemed to be a shorn nail, which had torn the delicate skin underneath, leaving a thin, ragged piece of nail behind at the edge.  It was bleeding, but she’d apparently already dismissed that injury, tossing a piece of her nail aside and picking up a half-finished arrowhead.

Having just been unmolded, it was rough and covered in burrs from its casting.  She picked up a file and began working at them, barely moving as he circled the fire to sit across from her.  There was a flicker of a sidelong glance, but nothing else.  

She had obliquely invited him to stay, and so he had no qualms about interrupting what was obviously some form of meditation. Self-soothing, perhaps, or simply a repetitive task to help clear her mind.  The Inquisition had plenty of arrows.

“Your finger is bleeding.  Might I assist?”

“Bleeding cleanses the body,” she muttered, which was entirely untrue.

“I am fairly certain all that bleeding accomplishes, in most cases, is to relieve you of your blood.”

“You can do some blood magic with it if you want,” she said, finger dripping onto her thigh as she filed down a spike of pebbled iron from the edge of the arrowhead.  It was a narrow, pyramidal one, of the type she tended to use against templars.

“I will abstain.  Was it you that left the basket in my tent?  If so, thank you– it is exactly what I was in search of.”

“The mountain pine trees have good bark for weaving.  The inner bark, not the outer.  The outer makes excellent fire-starters, especially if you can find a pitch-knot.  If you soak their cone-buds in honey for six months, strain, boil, and then ferment it, it makes something called melash, I think, but we just called it pine wine.  I learned it from a Frostback clan during the Arlathvhen.”

He had to admit, privately, that at times her presumption that he was an ignorant, helpless scholar that needed to be taught everything did grate.  On the other hand, in his company she was completely free with her speech, manner, and all of those vicious bristling edges she hid from everyone else.  She treated him, for better or worse, like she would any Dalish despite their disagreements about her people.  With one glaring difference– Ellana habitually acted as if he was a bird fallen out of a nest, something pitiable and fragile.

At least he had proven he knew how to forage, which had quelled her fears that he was three seconds from starving to death at all times.

Her concern was amusing, but knife-edged and imperious.  He knew it by now intimately, and no longer felt any arrogance in it.  She simply knew no other way to show people that she cared.  Not with her guard up constantly.

She and Sera were constantly at odds due to it, which was amusing to witness.  

Solas sat in quiet, contemplative silence, watching as she finished the arrowhead and moved to the next.

The metal box split in half, width-wise, revealing an interior packed with damp sand.  She pressed it back into each disheveled half, leaving it flat, and then carefully pressed her new arrowhead into the surface.  Then the box was closed over the arrowhead, to force its impression into the sand.

It was calming to watch her, scarred, graceful hands moving with authority and purpose, not a moment’s hesitation to impede her work.  He could imagine her as she doubtless had been, doing this exact same thing at a thousand firesides, during a thousand nights, small practiced movements as intricate as a dance and just as full of beautiful artistry.  The arrow was removed from the mold, and she set it atop her left knee, perched for later use.

The mold closed again, with a small reed caught between the halves to leave an opening for the metal to pour into the cavity.  The metal glowed, a sullen fiery hue, as she used a small metal ladle with a spout to scoop up the molten iron and tipped it into the mold.  The arc of magma-hot liquid iron was transfixing, despite the brevity of the moment.

She set the mold aside to cool, and lifted her narrowed eyes back to his face.  “You heard her threaten me.  You heard me threaten her.”  It was a statement, not a question, so he waited until she continued.  “You must be disappointed again that I had to be forced into the role they have chosen for me instead of happily sacrificing myself to save Thedas like a good little icon.  So please, tell me how selfish I am for attempting to choose my manner of death.  Make certain to be abstruse, or I won’t know how smart you are.”

“Yet again I am scolded for preferring specificity in my speech.  Lethallan, were I to write a treatise on you, it would be filled with contradictions.” 

Solas was pleased to see her smile, sly and barely-stifled.  Still, he hadn’t quite spoken his thoughts, which was what he had come here to do.  It was a faint hope that his words– marred by secrecy and a thousand lies– would do any good to comfort her, but he could try.

“It need not end in death, Ellana.”

“It will,” she replied placidly, staring into the fire.  “One way or another, it will.  To be raised up is to be chiseled down, the pieces of yourself that are inconvenient, or wrong, or too uncomfortable removed from you.  By force, if necessary, and by history, inevitably.  Whatever survives this will not be me, if anything does.”

She looked up at him, eyes reflecting the molten metal, gleaming like a predator in the night.

“I am already dead, Solas, I’ve told you.  I can feel them killing me.”

It was too matter-of-fact for dramatics, the words laden with a hard-won weariness and resignation that gave them a vicious certainty.  

“If you can think of any wisdom, any wisdom at all that will make this burden lighter for me, then speak.  But until the day I do not feel my back breaking under the weight of their expectations every time they look at me, this is where you will find me.  But eventually…”  She reached over and knocked open the mold, pulling a jagged arrowhead from it.  Lifting it, Ellana shifted her gaze over to it, gently spinning the metal in her fingers.  “Eventually there will be nothing of me left.  But there is no sympathy for me, no.  Because I am a thing, a beacon, a hand and not the woman connected to it.”

She turned the arrowhead one last time, and then tipped it towards him.  He could see the flaw in the metal, a hollow that had not filled properly during the casting.  It was thrown back into the crucible, his eyes tracking it, watching the metal begin to soften at the edges as it gave in to the heat.

“Would it make for a better tragedy for me to be hopeful, Solas?  To rail against the very sky, to stand up against an ancient magister like a child flinging stones at a giant?  Would that make it sad enough?  How pathetic must I be?  How humbled?  Tell me, Solas.  What form of martyr must I be?”

There was no answer that was both kind and true. “Ir abelas, my friend.”

Ellana laughed, soft and hollow, graceful, able hands limp in her lap. “Are you disappointed in me?”

“No,” he said quietly, “I am not.”

The wind whistled past them as the conversation fell silent.  

Fading from the edges of the sky, the day finally ended, leaving them in a circle of firelight   with the darkness all around them.  Ellana made no move to craft another arrows, busy, helping hands unable to do anything to lighten her burdens.  The guilt he felt in that moment eclipsed, even for a moment, the shield wall of duty and distance that kept him focused on his goals.

They had always felt small, these vestiges of the Elvhen, but at this moment he felt as overwhelmed by inevitability and grief as she did.

In this moment they were joined, and equal.

Victims of his grief.

“I’ve been thinking about when we spoke of your dreams.  Your Fade journeys.  It was some time ago, when–”

“I remember,” Solas said quietly.

“Not even the spirits will really remember me as I am, but as whatever they make of me,” she said with a small, faint laugh.  “Somehow that makes it all worse.”

“I will share my memories of you," he said, an odd, uncomfortably impulsive promise. It was no burden to make, of course, but it came with an emotion that must be ignored. Thrust aside. "Such as they are."

"Unflattering?" she joked grimly, and shook her head, leaving a smear of char on her forehead as she pushed her hair away. "The truth often is unflattering, Solas. You have ink on your chin."

Hastily he reached up to lick his thumb and wipe it away, her tired laugh easing some of the tension in the air. When he glanced up, she was smiling at him, and her eyes were clearer. Less heavy.

"Will you tell me a story?"

"I would be glad to," he assured her quietly.

And he did- ensuring it was a story with no villains, no struggle, and most importantly, no heroes.

There had been enough tragedy already.

[boatcats]

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

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

[avelera]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[princehendir]

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

[firegiftlouis]

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

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

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

[eriexplosion]

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

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

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

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

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

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

[sideblogforcrimpy-plus]

Rinse; Repeat

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

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

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

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

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

---- 2003

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

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

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

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

He doesn’t want to find out.

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

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

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

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

God?

Had he asked that aloud?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Obviously,” Derek agreed.

Spencer was way too excited for the topic at hand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re a sore loser, you know that?”

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

“So you admit I’m a winner?”

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

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

“You were playing it up!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

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

“I’m interested in the fitness test.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

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

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

“Spencer, please.”

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

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

“It’s all over, isn’t it pretty boy?”

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

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

“You callin’ me a liar, handsome?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God, he was going to make a terrible profiler.

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

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

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

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

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

“Spencer, I’ll be gentle. May I?”

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

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

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

“This is alright?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Sorry, Spence, I didn’t-”

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

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

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

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

–--- 2005

Derek scowled at the scene before them. 

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

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

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

“As books.” Derek’s skin crawled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The assistant kept talking.

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

“Do you two know each other?”

Derek swallowed, and Spencer barely moved.

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

“Spencer?”

[northern-passage]

cw: mention of suicide

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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