#tags cw: suicide ideation

[hotsugarbyglassanimals]

Can’t say I’m a big fan of flip flopping between catastrophization and optimism based on whether or not something Bad has happened to me but….. mm

[3idiotsandarainbow]

Day 19: To save yourself

From a fate worse than death

Killer killing the version of himself that almost reached a point of turning exactly like him before that version actually does >:)

-Anó

[wild0moon]

someone pls teach him proper trigger discipline

[daily-crabbys]

This Friday's meme is: you always do this

[sad-leon]

i dont have a clever caption for this one

[sunlitlemonade]

so. uh. surprising thing about jason, who might be one of the most inconsistently written characters ever, is the fact that one trait about him has remained constant throughout different eras, reboots and even an elseworld. no, it's not his thighs tho that would be a very good guess.

it's his suicidal ideation. yeah.

[here's me screaming about the fact that he feels like a phantom that has outlived its purpose of haunting in detail if you're interested]

[queerly-autistic]

You really can't engage meaningfully with Ed's story in S2 without firmly centring his mental illness and suicidality, because that's inherently what the story is: it's the story of a man having a severe mental breakdown and going to increasingly erratic extremes in order to achieve his end goal, which is to not be alive anymore...and then it's the story of his recovery from that.

And so much of my frustration with the way I see this being talked about (or, in many cases, not being talked about) reflects my more general frustration with how we talk about mental illness and neurodivergence, so buckle in because this got long (also I am going to be discussing suicide here, as well as very brief mentions of psychosis and ocd, so please take care). There's this trend when we talk about mental health: we go 'oh mental illness isn't an excuse' or 'mental illness doesn't make you do bad things' or variations thereof. These are, in my opinion, some of the worst things to ever happen to the discourse around mental illness. It's reductive. Absolutely mental illness can lead you to do things that you would not have otherwise done, even things that you would be absolutely appalled by, if you were mentally well. What do you think mental illness is if it's not something that impacts your brain and how your brain functions? If your mental illness doesn't directly lead to problematic behaviour, then that's fantastic, but that experience is not universal. It's not an 'excuse' - it's an explanation for certain behaviours that's vitally important to acknowledge and understand in order to try and mitigate harm.

There's also this thing that happens with discourse around mental illness where we assume that what you do in the grips of mental illness is reflective of something that's innate inside you. You were violent whilst in the middle of psychosis? Oh, it's because you're an innately abusive person and this just reveals who you really are. You have Tourette's and one of your tics is a racial slur? Oh, it's because you're an innately racist person and this just reveals who you really are. Your OCD is rooted in a fear that you're going to murder your family? Oh, it's because you inherently do want to murder your family and this just reveals who you really are. It's bullshit. What you do in your mentally ill state is not some deep philosophical reflection of your true character, and the idea that it is is something that causes really deep, dangerous harm to mentally ill and neurodivergent people.

So, now that that's over with, back to Ed.

Ed was behaving in ways that were acknowledged in canon as being extremely out of character whilst in the midst of a severe breakdown. Fang himself said that he'd 'never' seen Ed behave this way; even Izzy, who actively pushed for Ed to embody the extremes of his Blackbeard persona, ended up concerned because it became so extreme and out of character that it was impossible not to be concerned by it. The crew who mutinied on Izzy within a day didn't mutiny on him for months, not until their lives literally depended on it, because it's heavily insinuated that they were hoping he would get better. Because this wasn't the Ed that they knew (the Ed that we came to know in S1 - an inherently soft man who is caught in a culture of violence and is tired of it).

The show wasn't subtle about this. It didn't bury the lead. As well as the constant reminders that he was acting out of character in increasingly alarming ways, this was very clearly depicted as a breakdown, an almost total collapse of Ed's mental health. We saw Ed detached and numb and completely dissociated from the world around him. We saw him in private moments of despair, breaking down. We saw him behaving erratically in the grips of mania. We saw him display absolutely textbook warning signs of someone whose made the decision to die by suicide. We saw him smile and say 'finally' at the moment when he knew he was going to die.

The show basically painted a giant neon sign over his head flashing 'THIS MAN IS EXTREMELY UNWELL' in bright lights, and if you miss that, then it's because you're deliberately avoiding looking properly.

(And, important to note, that most of the people that I've watched the show with outside of fandom discourse absolutely took away from these episodes what the show was intending - they saw how unwell Ed was, they were devastated for him, and they desperately wanted him to get better.)

When Ed steered the ship into the storm, and threatened to put a cannonball through the mast, his clear goal was to create a situation where the crew had no choice but to kill him. I've seen people describe this scene as Ed 'trying to hurt the crew', and I think that's very much a misrepresentation of what the show was depicting. It was very blatantly a suicide attempt. He wanted to die, and he didn't care what he had to do in order for him to achieve that goal. That doesn't make it good behaviour, and it doesn't mean people didn't get hurt, but it does make it a very different situation than if causing harm had been his main intent.

There is a fundamental difference between 'he is doing this because he explicitly wants to cause harm to the people around him' and 'he's doing this because he's suicidal and beyond the point of being able to rationally consider who might be getting hurt in the process of ensuring that he ends up dead'. One of those is a bad person who enjoys causing pain - and the other is a deeply unwell person who can be supported and helped to recover and be better (and should be, for the good of themselves and the people around them).

And on that note, the failure to engage with this as a mental health story is also, I think, why I've seen some people get so upset about the show not doing Ed's redemption arc 'right' - because this isn't a redemption arc, and it's not trying to be. One day I'll do a separate post about how much I love that the show explicitly rejected a carceral approach, opting to essentially put him through community rehabilitation rather than punishing him, and even mocking punitive prescriptive measures (that rubbish youtuber apology speech was supposed to be rubbish and unhelpful), but that's one for another day.

The fact is that the show is telling a story about mental illness, and that inherently means that Ed's arc is a recovery arc, not a redemption arc. And if you're expecting a redemption arc, then you've fundamentally misunderstood the story that they're telling (and the revolutionary kindness at the heart of the show).

I have a lot of feelings about this because I genuinely believe that it was one of the best depictions of mental illness and suicidality that I've ever seen. Within the confines of it being a half hour, eight episode comedy show, they told a story about mental illness that was surprisingly realistic (with the obvious fantastical over the top elements of it being a pirate show - and piracy is explicitly depicted as a culture where violence is heavily normalised), and that didn't shy away from the messier, darker, more complex elements of mental illness (particularly of being suicidal).

And then, most importantly, after all that, the show took me gently by the hand said 'you are not defined by what you do in your lowest moment - you can make amends, you can recover, you are still loved, and you are worth saving'.

[moookar]

JOHN: What are you doing?

(Arthur starts to fidget.)

ARTHUR: I'm removing my shoes.

JOHN: Why?

ARTHUR: Because I don't want to be heard.

—

This exchange takes place right before Arthur tries to kill Larson in s3. I know this probably isn’t anything at all, but it put me in mind of the tradition of people taking their shoes off before committing suicide

[mikodrawnnarratives]

I'm soooo interested in the possibilities for Post Loops Siffrin since theres a ton to explore in how they and his family deal with the aftermath of All That

First off, bumps in the road to getting healthier since progress isn't linear. Siffrin trying but sometimes failing to keep in mind the lessons he learned.

Having so many loops doing the same thing over and over, I love the idea of him sometimes falling back into habits of making a script for themself to follow daily when things get too samey. Like certain times of the day go by so similarly that they zone out from time to time, even unintentionally

It would take his family members to realize when he falls into habits like these, and taking efforts to minimize their ability to do that without reminders. Like, small things like making sure to change things up everyday in a certain amount so following a Script isn't as simple to categorize things happening around him as You've Seen This Before

I really hope Siffrin starts journaling at some point Post Loops cuz honestly, if they don't got a therapist (i don't even know how any therapist could tackle that enbie's issues) and they don't talk about the things that happened in the loops, I'd hope they at least have one way to get it out in a healthy manner. I'd imagine they wouldn't want to forget more of the loops, even tho they were traumatic, seeing as Forgetting is so distressing to em. I also can't imagine anyone would be okay with forgetting that kind of experience after it consumes so much of ur life.

And I also like to think about how Siffrin handles not dying so frequently. Like, them using the dagger after a certain point feels good to them, they've gotten used to it. Imagine how chilling that must be to deal with as he recovers. Going between "oh i miss that relief" to "why do i miss that relief oh stars i don't want to leave my family :((" and on some bad days im sure he'd struggle with suicidal ideation, and those issues probably would make any self harming habits just. ohh so much worse given they might turn to that for relief if their family members don't keep good enough eye on their access to sharp objects when vulnerable. Now that i think about it, it would be really endearing to see their family helping them find alternatives, like drawing on themself or rubberband methods, whenever possible

How his family approaches it in general is also has a lot of goodies in terms of possibilities. I really like fics when Siff is really nervous to accept help but still gets it in the end. Like he struggles but in the end his family is still there. oohh I especially love Odile and Siff fics they are so endearing to me

I need to find more fics that focus on Siff when he's dealing with other factors of not being in the loops anymore too! Like changing out of his clothes he's had to have for xyz amount of loops! Dealing with food, anything from struggling with bananas and not liking his favorite food anymore to remembering how much he STARVED during the loops and getting underlying worry about it happening again. They still eat their food quickly, even if they feel content. Having irrational worries about "what if it happens again and i don't have enough food what if I starve again"

Hopefully this would be something he could talk about with his family and it would be SO quickly followed up by Bonnie exclaiming that they'll cook all the food they want for him if that happens. Never going hungry again on their watch! And if Siff gets any hoarding issues in this scenario, ✨snack cabinets!✨

oohh def snack cabinets or in general stashes would be so sweet, ones that they can access at any point. Their family does their best to keep it stocked to ease their worries

And there are a ton of other scenarios that would address how the loops fucked him up, followed by family members finding out + helping

I also need to find more fics where they are just cuddling too. Cuddles, helping Sick Siff, stuff where Siff is shy to accept help but god the others will make SURE he rests accordingly!

[clockwayswrites]

Specter of Starlight - Part 1

Summary:

Tim meets a specter of a ghost on a roof. He doesn't know that, not at first. At first he just meets a friend. It's only later he becomes very, very scared for him.

Content warning:

While I promise a happy ending, this fic does not start out happy. The start of this fic deals with (mistaken) suicidal ideation. Neither character is, but the assumption is made and there's a lot of internal thoughts about running into someone on a ledge in the middle of the night and how to handle that. Proceed carefully, darlings.

Wc: 666 (coincidentally spooky)

_____

Sometimes a person on a roof was just a person on a roof— someone out to get some fresh air or distance or space. Sometimes a person on a roof was a tragedy waiting to happen. As protectors of the city, the Bats had to learn to tell the difference.

They tried to stop every time that they could, just in case, but when they were in the middle of a chase or attack they had to make a call. They all had choices that haunted them. They could only make the best guess based on what they knew. Obvious apartment complexes, lower buildings, people on the phone or smoking, in the middle of the roof— if they didn’t have the time, those were usually safe to pass on. Tonight it was an office building, several stories high, a person sitting on the edge of the building as silent and still as the stone gargoyle they were next to. Tonight Tim wasn’t going to risk passing by. At least the figure was looking up and not down. Maybe it was okay. Please be okay. Tim landed lightly, almost soundlessly, on the roof. Still, he saw the shoulders of the person stiffen ever so slightly. They had heard him. Tim let the toe of his boot catch purposefully on the aggregate of the roof— let himself be obvious in his presence. He went kept wide. It was far enough away not to be a threat (that was a lie, Tim would always be a threat) but close enough that at this height he would have time to catch the person if they jumped. With ease, Tim hopped up onto the ledge and let his feet dangle out over the open air. For him the height was comforting, an old friend. “What brings you all the way up here?” Don’t ask them if they’re going to jump. Don’t ask them if they’re that far gone. Don’t cement the idea in their mind. Out of the corner of his eye, Tim took in what details he could in dim light. Dark hair— black likely but possibly dark brown. Late teens likely, early twenties if they were a late bloomer. Which was possible. They’re far too lean— lean enough to be pushing into gaunt. Bright blue eyes flicked to look at Tim and then back up to the sky. “Stargazing.” Tim stared up at the cloud cover that was so thick not a bit of starlight sneaked through. They snorted, as if reading Tim’s mind. “Yeah, it’s not being very cooperative.” There’s a subtle drawl to their voice. Midwest accent, Tim’s subconscious supplies, not a Gotham native. Not even someone who’s been here long enough to lose the accent. Just long enough to be up on a roof in the middle of the night. Their voice is almost lost in the night air even though it’s still as death. There’s not a single breeze to snatch their words away, but the voice is still just a little hard to hear. “I don’t think you’re going to be in luck tonight,” Tim replied. “Lady Gotham isn’t known to be accommodating.” They gave a long hum at that, clearly thinking something over. “Guess I’m not really stargazing then.” “So what would you say you’re doing?” Tim tried to keep his voice casual. They gave a little shrug, eyes still glued to the murky sky. “Just… wondering it must be like… to die without getting to see the stars one last time.” Tim jolted towards them instinctively, his hands gripped white knuckled tight on the ledge to avoid reaching out. Don’t do anything that might give them a reason to jump. The stranger glanced at Tim again. A crooked smile graced their lips. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Tim wants to say he’s not scared. It would be a lie. “I’m not up here to jump, I promise. I very much want to live.” Tim wanted desperately to believe that.

_____

AN: Finally wrote the start of this last night when I couldn't sleep. I gave it a rough polish so here it is! I don't know if I'll post all of it on tumblr, as I think I want to play around with chapter pacing for effect, but have this here at least. (Also I cannot tell you how many times I wrote Tim as TIme.) As always, stay delightful.

@michealawithana | @skulld3mort-1fan | @legowerewolf | @tsukihimeyfan | @bahfev

[that-little-fucking-shit]

Open Starter <333

TW: Technical Suicidal Ideation, Choking, Implied Deaths of Innocents + Child Abuse In Later Reblogs :). Please be mentally careful with this RP :).

--

"You know, I thought you were over all this destruction. You're not a teenager anymore, Poseidon, you should be able to control and handle yourself. You're starting to act like our father."

The mere thought of that conversation makes Poseidon want to choke, it makes the breath refuse entry outside of his lungs, threatening to suffocate himself with carbon dioxide like he deserves. He's avoiding his wife, he knows, and can feel the stares of the others within his kingdom. His son, Triton, is even blatant with it but he gets a shiver down his spine thinking about bothering his father, so he doesn't. The waves on the surface are acting strange--there are too many riptides to count, drawing people in and forcing them down to placate the destruction that Poseidon wants to focus inward. He wants to puke.

[Poseidon's current prediction is threatening everything you hold dear--yourself, your friends, your family, even your homes (no matter how far from the shore they are). You are trying to ask for his council to either force him to let your home go or to plead with him to. How will you proceed?]

--

@unhinged-waterlilly @totally-penelope-and-not-a-siren @totally-percy-jackson [bc why not :)] @madson-of-hermes-notluke @littlest-sunbeam-of-hermes

@daonedaonlyskh @odysseus-reigning-king-of-ithaca @odysseus-of-ithaca-is-lost @heraaaaaaaa @cerberus-no-biting

[Please tell me if you'd like to be added or removed from the tag-list <333]

[disruptivevoib]

"Or you're a dog and I'm your man.

You believe me like a god, I destroy you like I am"

[unordinaries]

presented without comment

(chapters 280 + 344)

[yellow-computer-mouse]

Headcanon Time!

was just scrolling through the utmv headcanon tag so hehehehe

name color (under cut) is fave color (also hc) btw!

Nightmare

Dream

Dust

Blue

Ink

Red

Violet

Nightmare

He/They/Dark

The transest man you've ever met

Is super dramatic and does a lil song and dance number to keep his sanity

Likes Will Wood, Bears in Trees, Twenty-One Pilots, The Front Bottoms, 6arelyhuman.. RIProducer...

He got dragged into BiT by Red and he hates it

He's super embarrassed that he listens to vocaloid (for some reason)

He's autistic

Like. Almost all the DSM-5 symptoms to a T.

He has really intense flat affect and low empathy

He has troubles with speech and didn't start speaking until he and Dream were like 4.

Even still he pronounces the letter t as more of a d sound

Except in butterfly... catch him calling them "blubberflap" ...it feels better on his tongue, okay?

Has CWP, CFS, and POTS.

Denies this

Likes sharks

Denies this

Likes bugs

...Doesn't deny this, actually

He has a pendant of a bug trapped in amber

It's his favorite thing ever

Killer took it once and was not prepared for Nightmare's reaction

Panromantic asexual

Asexual through trauma

Has very bad social anxiety

Like. Bad.

He has had one (1) anxiety attack (that he can remember) and he hated it

Only time he's ever actively ran away from someone talking to him

Bonded with a pygmy of himself and now it's a service animal and squeaks at him when he's gonna have a fainting spell

He's an age regressor! Usually regresses around 4-6

Sleeptalks loud enough to wake up other people

Has caught himself sleeptalking (he felt himself reach up and say something as he was waking up)

English is his second language, Spanish being his first!

He learned a lot of grammar and pronunciation through the other bad guys

Because of this, he did not know "hoe" also meant farming tool and not just slut

He has a lot of allergies.. main ones being something in a specific soap scent (he can't figure out what), mildly to dogs, severely to rabbits, pollen, something in those fake pinecones, and dandelions!

Most of those make him break out in hives

He has a lot of stuffed animals and blankets

His bed's essentially a nest

Summer is his favorite season

He likes swimming.. if only he knew how

Dream

They/He/She

Genderfluid, masc/andro leaning

Intersex as well! He has unusually high levels of estrogen

He usually wants to present as the opposite of his gender.. like he's an effeminate dude or a masc chick

Straight > bi-curious > pan > bi > gay

They want to garden!!... but they kill everything they touch

AuDHD

Hyper-empathy

Cries when someone drops a stuffed animal

Teases Nightmare relentlessly for his speech impediment (in a sibling way not a bully way)

Is lactose intolerant

Has a lot of GI issues bc autism

Nightmare bullies him for this (again sibling way)

One of his legs is longer than the other!

His favorite season is winter

He learned how to swim because Nightmare read him a detailed description of what happens when you drown and he has been deathly afraid of swimming ever since

Is a complete and total caffeine addict

Dust

They/It/He

Transmasc agender therian

Their theriotype is a lynx :)

AuDHD

Their special interests are birds, music, and Portal

Their favorite is GLaDOS and they are eternally disappointed in the simps

They don't get shifts

They also have OCD and schizo-affective disorder

They badly doodle birds on sticky notes and leave them around the castle

They're semiverbal/nonverbal and mostly communicate through ASL and little eeks

They will tell you to "go eek yourself"

This is easily misheard as "go eat yourself"

They are not telling you to kill yourself. They are telling you to eek yourself

what this means is unclear

They like playing Stardew Valley

They marry Abigail or Krobus every time

Every. Time.

He's a DM for D&D with Blue and Red and a couple others

Blue

He/Him!

AMAB nonbinary!

SWAG!!!!

He's deaf!

He's autistic!

He's scarily observant!

He's EVERYTHING AND MORE!!

He knows your full name!

He will not tell you how!

It is surprisingly not through stalking! He would never!!

He can remember the names of every single child in all of his classes throughout school!

He still holds a grudge against Kelly from second grade!

To be fair, she was a bitch!

He plays jumprope with his war hammer! Yes! Jumprope!

He spins it and jumps over it as he does so!

This is to assert dominance!

He runs a tattoo parlor!

He plays D&D with Dust!

His character starts cults themed around himself and rakes in NPCs as followers!

This is not concerning!

be not afraid

Ink

They/He

Bisexual

Their favorite color changes all the time!!

Right now it's red :3

They use kaomojis ☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

And star emojis ✨⭐🪄🌟🌙💛💫

very good

His love language is penguin pebbling!

Once he knows you like something he will never stop bothering you with it

Just

best boy

Red

He/Worm

He's nonbinary and doesn't care to explore past that

Surely the fact that he hates his gruff voice and wants to wear skirts has nothing to do with gender

He loooooves Bears in Trees and pestered Nightmare until he listened to them (he loved it)

He's autistic but has no clue

Everyone else knows

He's a lot

But he's friendly

Almost too friendly

He's very loud

But he's friendly!

He also can't spell

Violet

She/Him

Transfem bigender genderfluid demigirl

As in

She's transfemenine bigender

and those two genders are genderfluid and demigirl

👍

She's best friends with Nightmare and makes him paint his nails (he loves it)

She makes him leave his house (he doesn't love it)

She will bring you waffles

10/10 friend

[lunarharp]

oh darling, make it go away (kate bush lyrics part 4, "this woman's work")

[screamingcrows]

Hold me the way that you would (for the final time)

Note: Listen. This was uh- a spur of the moment thing. Takes place directly after Tie a tether here. Do not fucking feed this to ai, I'll get you Trypanosoma rhodesiense. Link to the not-a-series. Link to the song I took the title from Warnings/tags: MDNI, Dottore x female OC, mentions of previous self harm (specifically cutting, scratching), mild delusions (the psychotic kind, not the vision mimics), mild suicide ideations, mental breakdown, not established relationship, bad comfort. Minors, ageless, and blank blogs DNI

The faint buzzing of electro coming from various machinery was almost pleasant to Celeste's ears, giving her something else to focus on rather than the guilt currently sticking like a mass of tar in her throat, impossible to swallow around yet still not enough to cut off her air.

Dottore's incessant muttering as well. Why was he the only version seemingly incapable of communicating with the other segments without letting broken phrases spill from his lips. Maybe he wanted her to hear this? Hear as he no doubt berated her to them. Why would he rub it in like this, he wasn't cruel, was he?

Still, whatever words were spoken didn't reach her ears, everything swimming in her mind save for the buzz and a dull throb as unbidden voices rammed the weak fortifications Dottore's grip on her wrist provided. He was right, he always was, it didn't feel better, she just- it was all numb. How the voices always made her forget and coaxed to bloodshed was beyond her.

Stupid. Ah, when had she started crying again?

Slipping further and further from reality, Celeste barely noticed Dottore stopping, not when she smacked into the firm mass of muscle, not when grasped her chin and scrutinized her expression, not even when he gave up and threw her over his shoulder. There was only the faintest awareness that something wet was still trailing down her arms, dripping in a familiar enough trail into the depths of connected laboratories. At least it got to be severed from her.

It was with little fanfare that her body was deposited onto familiar cold metal, ears twitching as they barely picked up on a gruff 'down we go' from Dottore. Celeste could already feel the ghastly hands of her own subjects - victims - reaching from the blank surface, wrapping around her limbs and attempting to pull her under.

If this was death, then it felt wholly underwhelming. It was both numb and downright bland, no care left in her to be properly afraid as they whispered threats and promises of relief, slowly dragging her into a mirror that couldn't be worse than this. It was, after all, what she wanted wasn't it?

A shaky thumb, warmer than the others, almost comfortable, like porcelain after pouring a cup of tea, dragged across her cheek.

"You-" Celeste blinked, studying the face that hovered above her for an unnecessary amount of time, "you're not Delta."

"What an astute observation. As expected from my most brilliant assistant."

His clipped sarcasm didn't even sting, she deserved it for making mess after mess for him to clean up. Utterly worthless. Had there been a hint of exhaustion in his voice as well? He'd only just returned from a longer expedition, and here she was, causing problems.

"You said Delta would take care of," she gestured vaguely at herself, unable to pinpoint exactly what the poor segment could even hope to fix.

She wanted to offer doing it herself, but even through that damnable haze of cackling laughter and moving shadows, Celeste recognized the folly of thinking herself capable of anything. A minuscule comfort that she at least retained that level of awareness.

"Lying is hardly the worst sin you've seen me commit," it stung when he turned his back, and Celeste almost wanted to reach for him, feeling misery fill her lungs with every quickening breath he was away, "and will you kindly be quiet? It's impossible to focus."

Before she could protest, or even process the words, a rough palm placed itself gingerly on her shoulder, clearly trying to avoid any of the lacerations she'd left. Taking the hint, Celeste struggled to turn, face pressed against the cool metal as she closed her eyes, refusing to risk meeting that same abrasive reflection she'd seen in his bathroom.

"Celestia above." Hearing those words from his lips might have made her laugh under any other circumstances, now it was just a shameful reminder of how far she was truly pushing him.

A pained yelp escaped when fingers tangled in her hair, yanking firmly to lift her head. She had half a mind to hiss and writhe, tail already swishing vehemently when a familiar white coat was pushed under her head and she was carefully released.

Ground coffee and the sharpness of isopropyl did little to properly mask the earthy tones, he could've given her any of their lab coats, knowing there were always generous numbers scattered around the room, but this was so distinctly his. With her eyes closed, it almost felt like a hug. The fabric didn't stay dry for long as salty tears soaked into it.

It perfectly masked the inferno raging across her skin with the gentle press of cotton, washing away the crimson streaks in preparation. The fabric crumpled beneath in her grip, uncaring as sharp nails tore into it, better that than succumb to the urges to rend her own flesh in front of him. He'd already said there would be a scolding, what more would another thing ruined do?

How long had passed when a sting, far more tangible, had her body jolting back to reality was uncertain, but the hand swiftly pressing itself between her shoulder blades to weigh her down was no mirage.

"Oh for- stay still while I close this."

That got her immediate attention, attempting to twist under his iron grip, only prompting more hissed curses and a familiar - pleasant - scratch of something sharp tearing open the outermost layer of skin when his hand slipped.

"Keep that up and I won't hesitate to strap you to the damn table."

He'd properly snapped, like a wild beast, that hint of Beta's core showing itself as it only did when thoroughly stressed, whatever excursion he'd been on must've been bad. Or he was just angry with her. What little dignity was left made Celeste be grateful for the temporary relief as pain seared her nerves, calming down enough that Dottore's palm eased the pressure.

"Could've at least used a local anesthetic…"

"I certainly could," Dottore clicked his tongue, clearly struggling to keep his voice even, "but right now-"

The rest trailed off to a low murmur, just out of reach as Celeste strained her ears. But she understood the meaning. Of course she didn't deserve for this to be any semblance of pleasant. It made it easier to bite into the fabric and tune out the world, focused only on how it hurt, it was tangible and easy. She didn't even catch the shaky breath he took before picking the needle back up.

Focusing on the clatter of cages stacked in a corner, little rustles as the rodents went about their routines, soothed the remnants of unrest, her jaw slowly unlocking as she released the coat, now drenched in tears and saliva. The hands that rubbed carefully at her sides weren't the source of this borrowed serenity.

Neither did it bring any comfort when he came to sit on the edge of the table, hand refusing to part with her ruined shoulders.

"You've never once mentioned harboring these feelings"

"It's none of your business and-"

"It became my concern the moment-" his grip tightened for a moment, that thing akin to anger in his voice mellowing out as he continued, "the moment you decided to bleed out on my floor."

"-and I've told you multiple times that I felt empty," Celeste made certain her voice reflected the exhaustion in her bones, sniffling a little for good measure in a futile hope it might dissuade further arguments, "shouldn't be too hard to figure out the rest…"

"You should've been direct. As convenient as it would be, I've yet to fully devise an instrument letting me read your thoughts."

That caught Celeste's attention, turning her head to look at the man hovering above her. He looked about as plagued as she felt, captivating agnidus agates sunken into their sockets, cerulean hair tousled, and the telltale scruff that lined his jaw, firmly cementing his identity among them all. If she could, she'd wish to cut out parts of herself as well. Would it be better, she wondered, if parts of her could be killed?

That's not how it works.

"Fully?"

Tentative hints of a grin grazed his lips, the little flash of sharp teeth making her curl up just a little.

His eyes flashed, pushing her flat against the table again, "Quit it, I didn't stitch you up just to you tear them immediately," a sigh as she stilled before that small hint of relief reappeared, "it's good to see your curiosity remains unharmed."

"So you were bluffing."

"I do think calling it a 'jest' would be far more appropriate."

Annoying as it was, the distraction had brought the slightest hint of warmth to her chest. What a ridiculous idea, though she supposed what Omega and a few others had been tinkering with in the Akasha wasn't too far from it.

A sigh left her lips, moving slowly to sit beside him while wasting no time wrapping the white coat around her bare torso. It was frigid in there now that feeling was slowly returning.

"I'll go back to rest," Celeste hated how it came out as more of a question, about to add something to mask the uncertainty when Dottore perked up.

"Absolutely not," his grip shifted to just above her knee, "and that is non negotiable. I cannot force you to speak, but you are staying here until I am certain you can refrain from repeating this little stunt."

So much for escaping. Celeste brought a hand down to run across the back of his hand, uncertain how to proceed with how firm those words had been. It was an order, not a suggestion, which was surprisingly rare.

"Both of us need rest."

She couldn't help the amused snort at how he didn't even hesitate to gesture at the table they were seated upon in response. A pleasant chuckle echoed from his throat, and Celeste found herself relenting, leaning to lay back down whilst wiping at the salty tracks streaking across her cheeks.

"Incredible. Truly a marvel of comfort."

"If you want to be cross, there's the floor as well," a small pause, the air almost cloying with unspoken words, "you're certain you don't want to discuss what this?"

Would it be better to just get it out, even if there was no solution or way to fix her like a machine with a few gears out of place, wasn't it still something to just say it aloud? But then there was the matter of explaining how everything had been crumbling for years. It was too personal.

And you will look weak. Weak and pathetic. You're probably on thin ice already.

Celeste nodded her head meekly, unable to look as Dottore let out a soft grunt and pushed away, moving with none of his usual suave towards a corner filled with clutter. Stacks of crates enthusiastically brought in and left half unpacked, someone really should do something about it… Before Celeste could mentally smack herself for already having volunteered herself in her mind, a blanket she usually used for keeping subjects warm before procedures landed beside her head.

"Make yourself comfortable then."

They were found by Omega at the crack of dawn, Dottore haphazardly laid out on his back, legs hanging off the side, an open notebook covering his face, and Celeste held tightly against his side.