#all this shit with my suicidal meltdown. it was just silence before. and now that she's trying to break that silence it just feels weird.

[a-crumb-of-whump]

Saved By A Killer #3: Three Days

Masterlist

Content: Recovery, separation anxiety, abandonment issues, morally dubious caretaker, suicidal ideations, [mentioned] cannibalism, [mentioned] vivisections, [mentioned] torture, [implied] lab whump, [implied] multiple whumpers.

Tags make it sound really bad, nothing happens. Eli just has a meltdown.

-

Eli knew it was inevitable. At some point, Cohen would have to accept another job and leave him to his own devices until he returned. He just hadn’t expected it to be so soon. Only a week had passed and the man was already preparing to leave for several days. It was daunting and he hated it.

As Cohen cleaned his weapons and got himself ready, Eli chose to hide beneath the thick covers of his new roommate’s bed and sulk the entire time, much to Cohen’s amusement. 

“Somethin’ wrong?” he finally asked after Eli’s third dramatic sigh. Setting his knife down in his lap, he adjusted his position to glance behind him, one eyebrow raised inquisitively. “Hm?”

“I don’t want you to go.” 

It surprised him to see Cohen’s gaze soften a little. He tentatively peered up at him from behind the safety of the blanket, doing his best to hide the fear prodding at him each time he thought about being alone. At least he knew he was safe when Cohen was around, as much as he hated admitting that he was already becoming dependent on someone for safety. Who knew what would go wrong while he was gone? He very quickly decided the worst case scenario would be Lucas’ friends coming after him. They’d no doubt discovered Lucas’ corpse by now, and the thought of what they would do if they ever found where Eli was hiding sent a prominent shiver up his spine. 

“What are you scared of?” Cohen interrupted his thoughts, a slight tilt to his head as he leaned back against his hand. It wasn’t like him to look this… approachable. Eli had gotten so used to the gruff exterior and the lack of warmth within his presence that it was a little hard to believe there was more to him.

He huffed quietly, pulling the blanket further over his shoulders and staring bitterly at the sheets beneath him. “All of it. You refuse to put me out of my misery and then leave for several days while the dozens of people close to Lucas are still out there, no doubt looking for me. I don’t feel fucking safe. What if they find me while you’re gone? Do you know the shit I had to go through before you found me? The dozens of experiments they performed on my body, the- the “surgeries” they gave me, and the amount of times they had me eat parts of my body? Mind you, the cannibalism was light compared to some of the alternatives!” 

Suddenly, it was getting hot and harder to breathe under the suffocating weight of the blanket. With a small noise, he angrily kicked it away, trembling hands shoved into the pockets of his new hoodie as he stared directly into Cohen’s wide eyes. It really was the first night all over again. He just wanted someone to understand. He wanted someone to acknowledge the pain and the terror he was feeling. Wanted someone to tell him that it was okay to feel the way he was feeling instead of looking at him like he was crazy. 

He sucked in a sharp breath of air, toes curling into themselves as his memories began to become more vivid. It felt as though he was reliving them all over again. The countless nights he spent on those cold wooden floorboards, the constant fear that threatened to suffocate him every time he heard Lucas’ footsteps getting closer - it was all too much. 

“I don’t want to go through that again,” he sobbed quietly through gritted teeth, the realisation that he had begun to cry only just settling in as the tears blurred his vision. “‘n’ at least I know I’m safe while you’re around. Once you go, I’m vulnerable. Anything could happen. I don’t fucking know how to fight. I don’t have any weapons or- or experience, like you. I am completely defenseless.” 

The silence that settled between them as soon as Eli stopped talking was awkward, to say the least. It was obvious that both of them felt it. Cohen had taken to fiddling with his knife again, though he hadn’t turned away yet. He seemed deep in thought and angry. Eli struggled to tell if it was towards him or something else. 

The palms of his hands were sweaty when he reached up to wipe at his eyes. Everything was too warm and uncomfortable and the space between his reality and his past seemed as though it was beginning to merge within his head. 

It took a moment for Eli to realise that Cohen had stood up and was leaving. He hadn’t said anything since before Eli’s outburst, and it only further confirmed the idea that he was upset with him. 

“Wait,” he whispered in between whimpers, more tears pricking in the corners of his eyes when Cohen stopped to look at him from the direction of his walk-in closet. “Where are you going? I’m- I’m sorry. Please don’t go.” 

“Not goin’ anywhere. Just gimme a second.” 

Then the man disappeared into the closet. Eli brought his knees to his chest and pressed his back up against the headboard as he listened to the faint rummaging coming from inside, and when Cohen finally emerged once more, he was holding a knife made of silver. It looked ten times more fancy than any of the tools Lucas ever owned. He supposed it easily could have been, too. Cohen took great pride in his large collection of weapons. 

“Here,” he said simply, holding the knife out towards him by its blade. Despite his glaringly obvious confusion, Eli accepted the gift, wrapping his trembling fingers around the handle while the other hand reached up to wipe at his eyes for the dozenth time. “Keep that on you, yeah? If someone attacks you, aim it and strike without hesitation. I don’t care if they never see anything again. I don’t care if they end up paralysed. Hell, I don’t care if they die. If someone is out to hurt you, they deserve whatever the fuck they get.” 

Eli had never been given anything to use for self-defense before. Things were purposely taken away from him just so he didn’t have anything. For once, someone was giving him the chance to feel less powerless. 

“Mine?” he quietly clarified, slowly bringing the object close to his chest to stop Cohen from possibly taking it away from him again. “You mean it?” 

Cohen gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Yours. Just…” He let out a sigh. “Consider saying goodbye first, if… if you do decide that this world isn’t where you want to be. Do we have a deal?” 

For a moment, all Eli could do was stare directly at the hand Cohen was holding out to him, both of his own still gripping tightly onto the knife. He… finally had a choice? He got to choose what happened to him? It felt like a fucking miracle. 

He gave a teary smile, releasing the knife with one hand to shake Cohen’s outstretched one. It was a warm and comforting grip in contrast to Lucas’ painful one. One that made him consider the possibility of touch perhaps not being as bad as he thought. He did miss it. He missed it a lot.

“I think I can make the two months,” he whispered as he stared rather blankly at their grasping hands. “Of course, if you think you could stand me for that long. I… I know I’m erratic and emotional and on the verge of being completely broken as a human being.” 

He nearly jumped at the sound of Cohen’s sudden laugh. He didn’t do that often. It was a pleasant enough sound, once he got over the initial scare it gave him. He even found himself smiling along with him after a few moments.

“You’re not so bad,” he shook his head as he sat back down. Eli brought his knees closer again to allow him some more room, head resting against his arm. “‘sides, it sounds like you’ve been ignored for quite a long time. I can’t blame you for just wanting someone to understand.” 

“Yeah.” He squeezed his eyes shut, doing his best to ignore the growing lump in his throat as he stroked the wooden handle of his new knife with his thumb. It was surprisingly calming; the soft texture turning out to be rather comforting to focus on. “It sucks.”

When he turned to look at Cohen, the man seemed to be considering something; eyes scanning his own bedroom as if he was looking at it for the first time and his lips slightly puckered, something he often seemed to do when he was thinking. 

Eventually, he took a deep breath and placed his own weapon down again, along with the cloth he was using to clean it. “If it would help…” he began to talk slowly, as if still trying to figure out if it was something he wanted to say. “My bedroom has locks on the door and the windows. I could change the sheets and the bedding before I leave and let you use it for the several days that I’m gone. Would that be of any interest to you?” 

Eli frowned. “But… but you said your room was off limits when you’re not around?” 

“I did,” Cohen shrugged. “But I also understand what it’s like to not feel safe in your own home. Why do you think I’ve got so many locks in my room? They weren’t there originally. I had them manually put in a few months after I bought the place ‘cause I couldn’t sleep. That’s also why everything else, apart from the front door, has no lock.” 

He had been wondering about that. The fact that Cohen also felt unsafe brought him an odd sense of comfort and anxiety at the same time. What did he have to be scared of? Was it something that applied to him, too? Was the unsafe feeling he’d been experiencing more justified than he thought? 

Eli shrunk into himself a little, swallowing thickly. “You’d really be okay with havin’ me in your room?” 

“Sure.” He sounded more confident this time, and it relieved Eli to know that perhaps he wasn’t going to go back on his offer, after all. “‘s long as you don’t go sniffing about where you’re not supposed to. I don’t care where you look when it’s in communal areas, but this is my private space. closet and all of the cupboards are off limits. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.” Eli nodded. 

At first, the title he’d used hadn’t really occurred to him. It was natural at this point - at least, more so than calling people by their first name. However, he did notice the frown that had settled on Cohen’s face and the shift in demeanor, presumably a way to make him seem less gruff and closed off. It surprised Eli that he was self-aware enough to even realise what had caused it, let alone making a change in his behaviour.  

His face was becoming hotter and hotter with every second spent in silence. Eventually, he shuffled towards the edge of the bed and stood up, pulling the sleeves of his hoodie further over his hands to make himself feel and appear smaller than he was. 

“I will let you get back to packing. Let me know when you’re leaving.” I want to say goodbye one last time. “Wanna make sure you leave before I decorate your bed with my blankets and pillows.” 

Cohen snorted and rolled his eyes, already picking up his knife once more. “Sure thing, little snoop. See you in a bit.” 

-

About an hour later, the man was just about ready to go. He had his keys in one hand and a small bag of what he assumed was weapons and equipment in the other, and Eli couldn’t help but smile as he watched him struggle to slip on his boots. He was somehow one of both the coolest and dorkiest people he’d ever met. 

“‘m headin’ off now. Don’t answer the door for anyone and keep it locked, especially if you decide to leave. You have my spare key, yeah?” 

Eli rolled his eyes. “Yes. Go.” 

“Good, and are you sure you’re going to be okay while I’m gone?” 

No. I’m fucking terrified. I want you to stay. 

“Yes!” he insisted, practically swatting the man out the door before he could say another word. If you stay for another minute, I might not have the strength to let you go. “I will be here when you get back. Go!” 

Cohen laughed, already stepping off the porch with his bag slung over his shoulders. This time he didn’t look back as he tossed everything into the car and got in himself, and not long after the car’s engine came to life. 

He was grateful, in a way, that he hadn’t looked back at him. There would have been nothing more embarrassing than letting the smug bastard see him cry all over again as he pressed his face up against the window facing the driveway. 

Three days, he thought to himself as he anxiously chewed on his bottom lip. It’s just three days and he’ll be back.

-

@kiss1t0ffm3 @latenightcupsofcoffee @make-it-gay-please @nyooom @pigeonwhumps @topsheepstudent @whumped4whumplover @whumpsday @whumpshaped

[randomredakaifan]

Jasper Dunlop angst cause I’m in a terrible mood

TW: Self harming and mentions of suicide

Jasper ran into the men’s room and closed the door behind him. He then ran into the bigger stall, which is used for handicapped people and closed the door, not even bothering to lock it. He placed his back into the wall behind him and started to sob, hiding his face in his knees

Jason, the newest kid of Swellview high school came here after moving with his parents. Of course, he started to judge Jasper and make him feel bad. That crossed the line where Jason insulted him

“I’ll be so much happier if you weren’t here,” Jason said inside of Jasper’s mind. “You’re worthless, stupid, an idiot, weird, ugly, and just a piece of shit. I hope Drex murders you. You don’t deserve to have a life. You don’t even deserve to have friends, you deserve nothing. No loving family, friends, or people that loved you. You’re a freak, Dunlop! A fucking freak!”

Jasper started to get emotional as his sobs were becoming harder and his feelings were hurt, his heart was broken. He felt like Jason was right, he didn’t deserve anything. He’s just a freak

“Jasper?! JASPER!?” A voice calls out from the hallways. “Where are you, son?”

Jasper lifted his head to hear Captain Man AKA Ray Manchester’s voice from outside of the bathroom. He knew that he and Henry were gonna wear their suits for this mission, even though it’s not that big of an emergency. Of course, he wasn’t going to raise his voice and tell him that he’s in here.

“Jasper! I know you’re in there! We’re coming inside, no matter what you say!” Another voice calls out, but, much younger than Captain Man’s

Jasper realized that Kid Danger AKA Henry Hart and Ray came to rescue him. He felt relieved, but, still hurt and stood there in silence. The door swung open as Kid Danger and Captain Man came inside.

They checked each stall until they came across the last one, the handicapped one. Henry opened the door as his heart dropped to his stomach, seeing his best friend looking so hurt and crying. Even Ray looked hurt

“Jasper…” Henry says softly before kneeling beside Jasper and pulling him close, comforting him

Ray kneeled in front of where Henry and Jasper were at. Henry had his hands on Jasper’s face, seeing tears streaming down his cheeks. He used his thumbs to wipe them away

“Henry, I-” Jasper hiccups before going into a full on sobbing meltdown. Henry felt tears streaming down his face, never seeing his best friend like this before and it concerns him, very much.

“It’s okay, Jasp, it’s okay,” Henry says softly as he felt a lump in his throat

“Kiddo, I-I-” Ray was about to say something, but also felt a lump in his throat. He’s pissed off about that Jason kid and he never knew that he’ll take this far to hurt Jasper

“I’m just worthless, just like what Jason said,” Jasper hiccups as he was able to talk while still being in a sobbing fit

“Jasp! Don’t listen to him! You’re not worthless, an idiot, or stupid!” Henry says as he was crying now. “Please! Don’t let him get to you! You’re my fucking friend, Jasp! What he’s doing to you is making you feel bad!”

“He’s just a dumb kid that’s jealous about you,” Ray says softly towards Jasper. “And I agree with Kid Danger. You’re nothing like him,”

“Hen, Ray?”

“What?” Henry asked

“Hm?” Ray titled his head to one side

Jasper unraveled his arms as both Henry and Ray’s eyes widened in horror to reveal that he’s been self harming himself, with multiple cuts all over his arms. Ray’s sadness was taken over by anger. Henry was horrified to see this. He looked at Jasper and felt like he was going to throw up

“Jasper, why? Why did you do this to yourself!? Who made you do this!?” Henry asked as he was about to go find this Jason kid and beat him up for what he was doing to his friend

“He made me do this! He forced me to cut myself, all because I was going through suicidal thoughts!” Jasper yelled as more and more tears were streaming down his cheeks. “He knew that I was trying to attempted to unalive myself. I tried to, but, I was saved by another student, who came in here and talked me out of it,”

Ray couldn’t take it anymore as he stood up and punched a nearby wall and felt heavy tears streaming down his cheeks. Henry pulled Jasper close and just hugged him, sobbing with him. He failed to notice Jasper’s warning signs and protecting him from Jason. He felt like a failure towards his friend.

“Jasper, please, don’t ever do this again. You got me and Ray upset,” Henry says to Jasper. “We can’t lose you, not like this. We love you for who you are,”

“Henry, I-I just want him gone, I want him to leave me alone and get out of my life!” Jasper sobs as Henry was using his thumbs to wipe away his tears. “I can’t take it anymore!”

“Yes you can! And I know you can’t stand him! We’ll deal with him right now, I promise,” Henry says with a smile

Jasper smiles back as he, Henry, and Ray, who was already calmed down a bit, but was showing some anger towards what Jason did, left the men’s bathroom. Jasper decided to randomly hold Henry’s hand, which shocked the young sidekick, but, he didn’t mind it. He accepted the hand grab and held his hand as well, showing that maybe Jasper and Henry are getting closer as they thought

The recent new kid, Gayatri “Gaya”, that was formerly from India and came to America to start a new life, was walking down the hallways and seeing Ray, Henry, and Jasper, coming out of the bathroom

“Oh, hello- Are you guys okay?” Gayatri asked since she’s more empathetic and understanding to others, and Jason being deeply afraid of her, not knowing why

“He’s fine, just some thoughts controlling his brain,” Ray says to Gaya with a smile on his face.

Gaya nodded her head in understanding way. She knew about Jason bullying Jasper. She smiled and walked over to him, patting his head lightly

“I’ll take him to my hideout, where he’s safe with me and the ladies,” Gaya smiles broadly. “So, go whatever you’re doing, Captain Man and Kid Danger. He’ll be safe,”

Ray and Henry smiled brightly at Gaya. She seemed like a very good person with a understanding heart and soul. Gaya and Jasper, who let go of Henry’s hand, started to walk over to Gaya’s hideout, where it’s the old drama room that she gladly got permission to use by the school.

As both Gaya and Jasper were out of sight, their facial expressions changed to anger and revengeful, storming out of the high school to hunt down Jason for what he did to Jasper

To be continued!

[my-brothers-corrupted]

Chapter Four - Part 3

Anti finds the old friend he was looking for.

Tws for physical abuse, dissociation, and discussions of past abuse.

Part 3 - The Shadow in the Forest

A few days later finds the house quiet.

Dok is not pressed into that cold little closet, but he is alone in the unfurnished room, asleep on the concrete with his arms around himself and his torn white coat thrown as a blanket over his shoulders while he sleeps. Dapper and Anti are tucked up on either side of the great bed, Blue’s arms reaching out for his younger brother, who has, in his sleep, made his way all the way to the very edge of his side of the bed, his arms dangling. If he shifts at all, he’ll probably fall off.

But downstairs - downstairs, there is movement.

Red and Trick have found a way to share a bed. That is the good news. Trick has curled close to the warm body beside his own in his sleep, rolled up like a porcupine with his head pressing against the back of Red’s spine, his breaths coming thick and slow. But Red is awake.

His body shakes against the covers. His hands cover his eyes in the soft light of the half-moon. If you listen, you can hear the short, shaking breaths he draws every few seconds, trying to keep himself quiet. He rocks his body gently against the bed.

Trick groans against his back.

Red’s crying cuts off. He snuffles in a couple breaths and turns to look at Trick.

His little brother curls tighter in on himself, his face contorting. He touches Red’s hip and gives a small whine, his other hand pulling on his own hair like he’s grappling for anything to hold onto.

“Was not,” you hear him protest, gripping at Red’s hip. “Was not, she, Dok… mmmh.”

“Trick,” whispers Red, pulling slightly away from him.

“I don’t know! Where, and, and. If I could find. Hey!”

The shout makes Red startle, sitting up slightly and touching Trick’s shoulder. “Dude, wake up.”

Trick jolts and rolls away from the body beside his own, coughing. You see him stare groggily at nothing for a moment, his green hair mussed in every direction. A light of recognition sparks in his eyes and he flinches and looks up at Red, his mouth tightening.

“You were having a bad dream,” whispers Red, turning away from him again. “You should get up for some water or something before going back to sleep.”

He lies down. Trick stares at him, wondering why his brother’s voice sounds so raw. He lies down himself, blinking at the ceiling.

The silence has turned decidedly uncomfortable.

Anonymous asked: Red, are you okay?

“Yeah, fine, great, great,” he says, huddled down so deep under the covers you can mostly just see his hair. “I’m… awesome.”

Trick sits up, rubbing at his face. “Gonna get a glass of water,” he mutters, pushing off the covers.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

He drifts into the hallway.

Red sobs once and goes quiet again, his blankets trembling.

nikkilbook asked: What are you thinking about, buddy?

He lets out a breath that shudders, rocking himself against the mattress.

“I don’t know,” he says, his voice too high and too raw. “I just don’t think I want to do any of this anymore. I want to go to England. I can’t stop thinking about h-him. All the time. I should have let Anti make me forget.”

Anonymous asked: No it's better for you to remember, even if it hurts. At least this way you can keep yourself. You have a better idea of who you are and who you want to be than you've had in a long time. I know you don't want to hear any dangerous talk, but your choices aren't limited to Anti or death like you promised him.

“I wish I could talk to Dapper about all this,” he whispers. “I wish I could just see him. He remembers too, I know he does. I try to tell Blue about Max, but he didn’t really know him. And he’s so tired all the time. I don’t want him to have to worry that I’m unhappy. But Dapper knew. And he - ”

Red’s voice breaks again and now he’s crying harder than he was before, his voice broken and loud. “He was suicidal and now I can’t even see him to check that he’s okay! I have to go back to never ever seeing him again! He’s my little brother too, I don’t know why only Anti gets to keep him!”

Trick’s figure appears in the doorway and stops short, his eyes wide with an awkward sort of alarm. He shuffles into the room and then out again, blinking, a glass of water held in each hand.

cest-mellow asked: it’s gonna be okay red. maybe it would be best if you rebelled against anti, you could see your fiancé again and live a better life with your brothers. without the pain and hurt looming over you. you could be happy.

“Oh, geez,” laughs Red, at least a little startled out of his upset. “Rebel, fuck. I wouldn’t want Anti to take it out on my little brothers if I stood up to him. He’s up there with Dapper all day. I’d rather he be in a good mood when he’s with him, not irritated by me acting out. Shit, I’m not clever enough anyway. He’s always watching and all that, you know? I’d never know how to get away.”

Anonymous asked: How's that water, Trick?

“So icy fresh and tasty,” answers Trick dryly, staring at Red’s trembling figure. “Gonna be so goddamn hydrated. Everything’s so great, dude. Thank you, God, for putting me in this situation.”

He shuffles in and out of the doorway again, irritated by his own inability to commit. Maybe he’ll just sleep on the couch.

cest-mellow asked: jackie, talk to dok or blue about your thoughts next time you see them. talk about rebelling. even if you WERE to do this, which of course none of you will of course of course 👁👁you couldn’t do it by yourself. so. hypothetically speaking. you should talk to blue. or dok. when anti is in his own body.

“Dok,” laughs Red, a fondness coming back to his face. “He’s my little healer, he doesn’t really fight like that. He likes it when Anti’s affectionate with him just as much Trick does, he just hides it better, haha. It’s better that way, I think - him not fighting. I don’t want him to hope for things he can’t have, or not too much, anyway. But Blue and I can talk about anything.”

cest-mellow asked: perfect! so in the morning, when you’re sure anti is in his own skin again, talk to blue. seriously. turn the cameras away and talk to blue. he’ll help you with this.

Red smiles at you. “Okay, sure. I think it’s better to talk to people when you’re feeling sad anyway. But not too much. I want Blue to be able to worry about himself right now, not stress himself out.”

Anonymous asked: Anti's trying to keep you all separate to weaken you all, Red. He doesn't want to risk a team up. But we can check on Dapper, too, right? We can let you know how he's doing. And it's good to let this stuff, these worries, out in the meantime, right? It'll hurt if you keep it hidden, and now's a safe time to talk about them.

“Fuck, please,” says Red, his eyes fluttering closed at the relief of it. “Keep an eye on him, yes. If he’s not well, you gotta tell someone. I follow the rules to keep us all safe, but if he needs me I’ll let Anti throw me down the stairs as many times as he wants if that’s what it takes to get to him.”

nikkilbook asked: Have you thought about telling Trick about Max?

“Telling Trick? What, you think Trick and I are going to talk about boys? Have a little slumber party? We don’t really get on.”

Anonymous asked: It's your bed as well as Red's, Trick. Anti told you to share, and Dok asked you to try to give Red a chance. The water's a peace offering. Either give him the water and go to the couch, or actually go in. You're alright.

Fuck, you’re right. Dok did ask him to do that. He shakes his head out and nods to himself. Okay. Right. He’s fine. Still a little shaken up, sure, but he can give Red some water, for fuck’s sake.

cest-mellow asked: you can give him the water trick. he’ll appreciate it. red is a lot different now than you remember, we promise.

“Hey,” says Trick a little roughly, stepping into the room.

Red jerks and sits up quickly, wiping at his face and clearing his throat before he turns. “Yeah.”

Trick reaches out with the second glass of water. Red blinks at him. It takes him a second to take it.

“Thanks,” he says.

Trick sits down on the other side of the bed.

“Are you having a meltdown?”

“What? No. If I’m having a meltdown, you’ll know. We wouldn’t be talking.”

“Oh. Okay. Cool.”

nikkilbook asked: Trick, if it would Dok crying right now, what would you do?

It’s easy with Dok. It’s always easy with Dok. He’d just roll over and wrap around him and wait for him to be ready to talk about it, and Dok would know, right away, that Trick was there for him and that he would be there for Trick too. They have rules in place, and habits, and plans for when one of them is really freaking out or suicidal or stuck in his head. It’s always easy with Dok, because the two of them have been there a thousand times before and survived it together, and Trick regrets every single one of the times he chose to try and handle it on his own instead of going to Dok.

But Red is not Dok. Red has rules about touching Trick has never understood and Red is Blue’s and Red has made Dok cry before. Red is older than him and stronger than him and more useful than him. Red is Red, and Trick barely knows him, and that is the truth of it. He doesn’t know how to look after him.

But he’d like to. He’d like to. Because Red doesn’t have Blue right now. And for all that Trick thinks about getting him back for everything he ever did and every time Anti chose Red over him, Trick would cry his eyes out if Red ever did something that stopped him from being there to look after him and Dok tomorrow.

“Were you crying?” asks Trick uncertainly.

Red wipes at his face again. He’s turned away from him in the dark. He shrugs.

bupine asked: you guys are doing great! communication is the key to both of you feeling a bit better, and this is at least a start to undoing the damage that's been done. you should talk stuff out, try to get on a bit. you did used to be quiet close.

Red sits up, blinking. “What, we used to be close?”

He turns to look at Trick, eyebrows raised. Trick looks back, blinking.

“Doubt it,” he says after a second, trying to joke. Red stares at him for a second.

Then he snorts, shaking his head.

“Fuck you, man.”

Trick chuckles, turning towards him on the bed, drawing his legs to his body criss-cross apple-sauce.

nikkilbook asked: Remember how, when you were feeling overwhelmed on Christmas, he let you use his new heavy blanket? He’s your brother, too. Right now, I just think neither of you know how to do that. Isn’t that right, Trick?

“Where is that blanket?”

“Burned,” says Trick morosely.

“What?”

“Burned. Everything in Singapore burned down.”

“Hold on. Start from the beginning.”

“I am not telling that story right now, it sucked!”

“Were you there?”

“Yeah! I woke up and the house was burning. I was outside but Blue ran in and Anti was in there and I didn’t know where Noodle was.”

“Holy shit?”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t have anything?”

“Anti bought me more clothes and I got everything in this new house. And Noodle and Anti and Blue were okay, so it’s okay. But yeah, my music box and some of my stuff is gone.”

“Is that fucking traumatic?”

Trick shrugs, taking a sip of his water. “Add to the list, you know.”

“I guess, man. I guess.”

nikkilbook asked: It hurts. You feel like you’ve hit a wall, and you don’t have any choice but to keep moving because the world won’t stop for you, but you just know that if you take another step you’re going to crumble into dust and you just want everything to stop for a second so you can frikkin breathe. It sucks, and it hurts, and I’m sorry. I’m glad you chose to remember, though. I’m glad you got to keep that tiny bit of being Jackie.

Trick glances between the camera and Red, alarmed. Red is turned away from him again, his head against the wall behind their bed and his eyes closed.

“What’s hurting so much that they tell you things like that? Are you… are you okay? Seriously, though. I’m kind of worried you’ll hurt yourself or something, or - ”

“Trick, I’m fine,” says Red, a little hot. “Okay?”

Trick shrugs and turns away from him, a flicker of injured irritation in his face. He crosses his arms over his chest and sets his water aside, glaring at the floor.

Noodle pads up beneath his feet, blinking up at him. His big eyes glow. He’s the prettiest cat in the world. Trick closes his eyes and gets his strength out, turning back to Red, determined.

“Where were you?” he asks.

Red turns back to him.

“Where were you?” Trick repeats. “While we were in Singapore, where were you and Dap?”

Red’s mouth parts. He pauses. “We were in Colombia.”

“That’s not what I mean,” says Trick. Something hurt and desperate pushes against his chest. “That’s not what I meant.”

Red looks down at the covers of his bed.

“Look at me,” begs Trick. “Why didn’t you try to find us again?”

“I did!” cries Red, striking the mattress, just once. Trick flinches and Red closes his eyes, trying to make himself gentle again. “Trick, I did. I did. You don’t know how hard I tried. We were hungry and homeless and all I wanted was to get Dap home so he wouldn’t get in trouble. All I did was try to get back to you.”

“That’s not what Anti says,” replies Trick, voice beginning to tremble. “Not the whole time, anyway. He says you found somebody else to feed you and buy you things. And that he found you somewhere to stay and took care of you. Anti says you were with some guy.”

Red hates the way the words drip off his mouth. Some guy. Like Max wasn’t his own heart given back to him.

“He says you were with some guy you were fucking and that you weren’t going to come back to us. He says you wanted to run away with him and not come back.”

“Weren’t fucking,” mutters Red. “Weren’t… he… Anti is a liar.”

“Were you going to leave us behind, Red?”

It’s now that Trick’s voice breaks. Red looks up. Looks into his face and can’t tell if he’s angry or upset or afraid. Just that he’s feeling something, and it’s painful, and Trick wants him to say it’s not true. Wants him to say, no, my brother, I would never.

“Were you going to take Dapper and never come home, Red? Were you going to leave me and Dok and Blue with… with…”

“With Anti?” asks Red.

“I love Anti,” hisses Trick, looking away.

“Right,” says Red without emotion. “Of course.”

For a moment, he just watches Trick shudder, hugging himself and looking out through their window at the pool, where the water laps slowly at the light of the moon.

Red closes his eyes.

“I thought you and Dapper were dead,” whispers Trick.

“It would have been good for you if we were,” answers Red bluntly. “Anti would have even more time for you. We’ve always stood between you and him. Maybe you’d be back in his bed again if we were.”

“You were going to go. Weren’t you? You were.”

“Why are we not allowed to have ANYTHING outside of Anti?” says Red, and it’s only after the words have come out that he realizes he’s screamed them. “Why am I not allowed to have loved him? Was that wrong of me? He was the world given color again!”

Trick doesn’t look back at him. Red covers his hand with his mouth, feeling the tears come back and drip down his cheeks again. Noodle mewls.

“Who were you dreaming about?” whispers Red, wiping the tears away.

Trick shakes his head, biting hard on his lip.

“Was it a nightmare?”

“I was just dreaming about Dok,” he snaps. “Okay?”

“No,” laughs Red. “No, no. You weren’t. You said his name but you weren’t calling for him.”

“How the fuck would you know?”

“I’ve heard how you two call for each other,” he says. “When it used to be just you and me and Dok away from Anti and Dapper, and I didn’t have Blue. I would hear you call for each other from the other side of the room when you needed each other. I know you two use each other’s real names sometimes, but I never told Anti, because I could hear how much they meant to you. And I would wish that someone would say my name like that when they were scared. Like my name meant anything. And I loved it when Blue said Red, I did. He made me feel like there were things worth living for again. But Max… Max.

Trick. When Max said Jackie, I was something worth living for again.”

Anonymous asked: Y'all're doing great. You've both been through so much, both together and separate. But yall can help eachother out just by being there for eachother

They sit in silence, the message ringing out with an optimism that neither of them are sure they can match. Red waits. Red waits and Trick doesn’t speak.

Red shakes his head. He pulls the covers up over his legs again. He’s going back to sleep.

“I was dreaming of a girl,” says Trick.

Red stops.

“I was dreaming of a girl,” says Trick. “And I loved her.”

pine-storm-season asked: Do you want to say more about her, Trick?

“There isn’t anymore to say about her,” says Trick, and the bitterness in his voice is different from the sorts of bitter anger he has spat out before. It’s bitter like a rhubarb leaf left on his tongue for weeks on end. It’s bitter like he’s chewed on it and it has never stopped being bitter every time he bites down. It’s bitter like he’s wept for it, but the salt didn’t change the taste no matter how often he cried. “She isn’t anything but that. She isn’t anyone now. She smells like vanilla and cigarettes, and I hate that. And I tell her, ‘you gotta stop smoking those, they’re nasty, you’re going to get cancer’ and she promises she’ll stop and she kisses me. And she’s a glimpse and a ghost and an emptiness. She isn’t ever there. There isn’t anything more to say about her. There is nothing of her that’s left. And you know something? A few minutes from now, there won’t even be that. As soon as she comes, she’s gone again. I never remember her for more than a few minutes. But I guess I’m always looking for her, because if you ask Dok what sort of girls I always fall in love with, he’ll tell you about long dark hair and acrylic nails that click and a constant smile on a pink-lipstick mouth. So I look for her, you know. But she isn’t ever there. And she never will be.”

“Trick,” says Red. “Trick.”

Trick is still staring out at the pool. There’s a hand on his shoulder and something hot and wet rolling down his cheek.

nikkilbook asked: Red, in the future, would it help if Trick hugged you through a blanket? Pressure without any of the skin contact?

Trick blinks, distracted from his thoughts, and he remembers that Red was the one who was crying in the first place.

He looks over at him. Red looks back.

“I’m sorry,” says Trick, and he means it.

“It’s okay,” says Red. “I like it when you talk.”

“I’m angry at you for a lot of things,” Trick admits, but he admits it unhappily, and it makes Red smile and cry at the same time.

“Trick,” he says. “I’m sorry for every time I’ve hurt you.”

“But not for wanting to go to England,” whispers Trick, reaching up to cling to his sleeve. “Because, Red, if he meant that much, then it’s okay if you still want to go. So don’t be sorry for that. I’m sorry I made it sound like it was wrong for you to want to go.”

Red covers his face with his hands, trying to breathe. “Hey,” he croaks. “Not to sound like a cheesy old white lady, but that really means a lot to me. Thank you.”

For a long moment, they just let each other breathe, their bodies leaning gently into each other’s. Red lets out a long sigh and a short, breathless laugh. When he looks up, Trick is looking back at him.

His little brother gets out of bed and puts on the polar bear hoodie Dok bought him for Christmas, letting the sleeves fall over his hands, and then he climbs back into their bed and Chase wraps his arms around Jackie’s ribs.

Anonymous asked: I'm glad that got worked out, yeah. Are you two doing a bit better now?

“Maybe we should have had this conversation more privately,” whispers Trick against Red’s throat.

Red snorts out a laugh, and then he’s laughing earnestly, shaking his head.

“They really watch fucking everything, don’t they?”

“I mean - ”

“Like, we are so fucking used to this? Is that weird?”

“Dok fucking loves them, I’m so annoyed with him all the time lately - ”

“What?”

“Haha, he does! He’s like ‘the cameras,’ and he thinks they’re perfect and I’m like, bro. He’s such a dork. I think he literally chats to them like a journal entry.”

“They are perfect,” laughs Red.

“Nooo, some of them are mean! I’m not kidding!”

“No, they’re nice, say it.”

“Nooooo.”

“They’re nice. You guys are nice.” He blows the camera a kiss. “Don’t be mean to them, they’re nice.”

“They’re sometimes nice.”

“It’s a start.”

“Are you okay, then, Red?”

“I’m going to be okay, buddy. Are you?”

“Yes. I’m happy lately.”

“Okay. Good.”

Anonymous asked: Red, do you really want me to drag Winnie the Pooh in here to drop some wisdom on you?: "You're braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think." Maybe things are complicated but sometimes you need a little simplicity to help you through

Red and Trick flop down on the bed eventually, warm and safe side-by-side on the mattress. Trick dozes lightly, his arms behind his head, the memories of the girl already fading into painlessness as he plays with his crinkle paper. The steady crumpling sound of the paper is soothing to Red and he sits rubbing his knuckles back and forth across his mouth, thinking.

Braver than he believes, stronger than he seems, smarter than he thinks.

And worth more than Anti tells him.

A smile appears beneath his knuckles. He rests back against the headboard of the bed, gazing down at Trick.

Things are hard right now, but some things are simple.

I love you all. And that’s what matters.

Anonymous asked: so. how about that noodle, am i right? what a cat

“What a cat,” repeats Trick, his mouth sliding into a sleepy smile. “Where’s my little boy?”

He makes a kissy noise for him, looking around the room. “C’mere, good boy!”

“Trick, the door’s still open from when you came in with the water,” Red tells him.

“Fuck!”

Trick leaps out of bed, looking around for his cat. “He might have gone upstairs! I gotta go find him.”

“Trick, don’t go upstairs even if you don’t see him down here!”

“Aw, come on, Anti wouldn’t mind me grabbing my cat. Definitely he’d prefer it to finding the lil baby outside his door in the morning.”

“Trick, I’m not kidding!”

Trick is already slipping out the door, making quiet noises for his cat.

pine-storm-season asked: Trick, if you can't find him soon, go back downstairs and we'll ask one of the others to look for him, okay? Don't get yourself hurt, bud.

“No, don’t wake anybody up!” pleads Trick. “I should have shut the door anyway, that was dumb of me. He - oh, there you are, perfect!”

Noodle meows at him from the couch, lying with his belly showing beneath the window that looks out at the forest. Trick kisses at him and steps towards him, crouching down to pull him towards him and letting his cat wrap around his neck. Everything about him goes soft when he’s with his cat. He hums at Noodle and pets him, burying his face in his warm fur.

“Let’s go to bed, baby, let’s go,” he purrs, scooping him into his arms. “You know you’re not supposed to leave Papa’s room. Maybe you were looking for Dok, huh? I miss him too, lil man. It’s okay. We - ”

Trick straightens up and screams.

pine-storm-season asked: Trick? What's wrong?

“Trick!” cries Red from the bedroom.

Trick reaches for his gun, but it isn’t at his hip. He throws himself to the ground, covering his mouth to quiet the sound of his own breathing, squeezing Noodle to his chest, his eyes blown wide with the sudden terror of it.

“Someone out there, someone out there,” you hear him chant.

Anonymous asked: Speaking to both Trick and Noodle, please be careful. Hey Red, do you wanna help look for Noodle too? - Pink

“Guess I need to now!” cries Red, tearing out of his bed and racing into the living room. “Trick, what’s - ?”

“Get down!” shrieks his little brother. “There’s someone in the yard!”

Terror in his blood. Police? Gangs? Magicians? Anti’s old master?

But there is no subtle figure hiding in the trees waiting to give orders to a team, no eye-glowing spell-caster emerging from the forest with hatred burning in their palms, no gun-slinging criminal Anti pissed off stalking boldly towards them.

There is just a silhouette staring at Red.

Somehow, it is worse than anything else he could think of. It’s like he can’t move. Red has never frozen up in the face of danger before, but this - his blood is frozen, his muscles are ice. His brain is that of a rabbit’s trapped in the talons of a hawk. He feels his heart constrict.

They’re standing in the soft light of the outside of the house, but they are consumed by the darkness. He can’t make out a single one of their features, can’t see what they wear or look like. All he can tell is that they’re standing, straight and motionless, and that their hands are behind their back.

And then, before he can move, they turn their head up. A pause.

They wave. One flick of an upraised hand.

And then they’re gone like they were never there.

Red screams with fear and rage as the grip on his chest disappears, and then he’s off. He hears Trick give a cry behind him, but it doesn’t matter. Red snatches the same knife Dok picked those few days ago, the great silver blade of the cutting knife, and, tearing open the backyard door, he is racing towards the forest.

“Anti!” screams Trick. “Help!”

cest-mellow asked: what happened????

Upstairs, Dok jerks awake at the sound of his brother’s cry.

“Anti!” Trick screams. “Anti, where are you?”

“Trick!” cries Dok, staggering to his feet. There is blood stained against his shirt. “Trick, Chase!”

He yanks on the door of his room, but it does not budge. He screams with frustration, racing to the window. “Red, where are you going? What’s going on?” He clutches you close to his chest.

Anti sleeps deep these days, Blue’s body sharing its fatigue with him. It’s Dapper who shakes him awake, tugging on his shoulders and clicking his tongue for him, but the moment he’s awake, he can hear Trick and Dok and see the fear in Dapper’s chalk-white face. He jolts up and connects himself to his cameras. Red is sprinting away from the house and Trick is scrambling for his gun.

“There was someone in the yard,” Dapper’s hands whisper.

Anti drops Blue’s body onto the bed and transports himself downstairs in a wave of glitching, grabbing Trick and making him scream with the suddenness. “What happened?” he demands, shaking him. “Where did Red go?”

“After the man in the yard,” cries Trick. “He was just staring, Anti, and he made everything cold! I thought he was going to kill us!”

Anti’s eyes gleam in the cold light of the moon. He turns his face towards the yard, a wicked smile growing on his features, his body shifting to that of the great black dog’s.

“They noticed us at last,” says the dog, saliva dripping from its grinning mouth as it pads out into the yard. “They noticed me at last. And here they are, to tell me that they want to play again.”

“What?” squeaks Trick, clutching Noodle to his chest.

“Don’t worry, we’ll win,” laughs Anti. “I always show them up, even if they don’t admit it. They - ”

Anti pauses. The joy drains away from his face.

“Oh, damn,” he curses, turning back into a man and frowning out at the woods. “I didn’t tell them no killing yet. Shit. Okay. Red might be fucked.”

pine-storm-season asked: Red, Red can you see this? Come back, it's not safe, Anti's awake and can protect you guys if you go back and I think he knows what's happening too.

“What?”

Red’s gaze falters, glancing back for a moment at the house. “Anti, they went this way! Can’t he just catch up to me? I hate when Anti gets in fights without me there!”

Anonymous asked: Get back to the house Red! Not safe out here!!

Red groans, hating the idea of turning to run away instead of facing the person who dared to stare at them and stalk them like that, who dared to scare Trick and wave at Dapper.

He shivers. Sprinting away from the lawn, he had seen Dapper standing in the big window of the master bedroom, looking pale and terrified, staring at the place where the creature had been. For all Red knows, they’ve redone this night five times already. The thought makes him sweat, turning his body back towards the house, back towards the forest, back towards the house. He wants to find that thing and make it pay. He wants to find that thing and make sure it never gets a chance to make Dapper look that scared again.

Anonymous asked: Trick, I see your logic but I raise you that Anti will not follow nor appreciate it.

“What did you do that I wouldn’t appreciate?” asks Anti much too sweetly, glancing back at Trick even as he pads towards the woods.

“Just went looking for Noodle,” stammers Trick, backing away with his cat squirming in his arms.

“Get that fucking thing back in your room before it stinks up the whole house.”

“Yes, Anti.”

Anonymous asked: Ok. Im sorry and please excuse my language. But What. The ABSOLUTE FUCK. Is going on Anti. You know who this is?? And you didnt tell them no killing yet??? Im sorry but WHAT? -Pink

“We haven’t had a chance to chat just yet,” says Anti, smiling. “We’re both rather private creatures, you see. Finding them is an exercise in causing enough chaos to get their attention, haha. I guess my little display of carcasses in the middle of their woods was enough for them. I am rather artistic like that.”

nikkilbook asked: So help me Anti, if you let my boy get hurt I am going to wreck. house.

“What have any of you ever been able to do?” sneers Anti. “Just find my oldest one for me before he does something stupid. Red, come here before you turn into the sixth member of that carcass display!”

Anonymous asked: Dap, do you think you'd be able to rewind if anything goes wrong tonight? I feel like we're tethering the line toward catastrophe and we might slip and fall at any moment

Dap is huddled up beneath his windowsill, clutching Blue to his chest, a blanket wrapped around both of them as his older sibling sleeps.

“I’ll rewind if I have to,” he says. “If nothing tries to stop me and take me away.”

His face is paler than the moonlight. His grip is too tight on Blue.

“Please make Red come back.”

Anonymous asked: Red, you need to understand this isn't a regular threat. Apparently Anti has made some friends of the demon variety and Anti had the bright idea of getting their attention by killing a few people and littering their corpses in the woods and failed to mention to them that he doesn't want any of you killed so I think you can imagine how this looks. Just get out of there. Or at least make your way to anti if not the house.

“Hey, I never said human corpses!” snaps Anti. “You guys really think I’m so unimaginative, it’s insulting! Red, are you getting these? Where are you?”

“I’m getting them, I got a camera,” he calls back from somewhere in the woods, a sigh in his voice. “I’m coming back.”

“That’s a good boy. C’mere.”

“What, are you going to call for me like a cat?”

“Pssp psp psp psp, here, Reddyyyy.”

Red laughs. “Shut up, man.”

“You’re okay?”

“Yeah. Fuck, Anti, what was that?”

“Let me worry about them. Come on.”

nikkilbook asked: Jackie, be safe. Get back to the house and protect them from there. Your brothers need you with them. If something comes for them while you’re out in the woods, you won’t be able to do anything. And if something happens to you out in the woods, they won’t be able to help you. You’re strongest together.

“Oh, you worried me,” purrs Anti as Red appears in his vision again. He reaches out for him and Red returns to him obediently, letting Anti cup his face in his hands and fuss over him for a second. “Stupid Red, running off.”

“Wanted to protect you,” answers Red unhappily. “I don’t like the way it looked at Dapper.”

“Looked at Dapper?”

“In his window, it waved at him.”

Anti rolls his eyes. “They have an interest in time travel. But they know Dap belongs to me. Don’t worry about him.”

Red nods and lets Anti lead him back towards the house, their fingers wrapping together.

And then Red is squeezing too hard. Anti hears him gasp. He turns to see him with his eyes closed and his body shaking, bent over himself, a whimper in his mouth.

“Anti, Anti, Anti,” Red begs. “No, no, no, I’m afraid.”

“They can make you feel that way,” replies Anti with a low grin, his mismatched eyes scanning the trees around them. For his part, he shows no fear. “Oh, but I have missed our fun, old friend. Are you there?”

The moon is gone from the sky. The darkness from the trees looms like a living thing, creeping closer, closer. Anti smirks.

His hair is a deep emerald color, his eyes fiercely blue, surrounded by cold black sclera. He has Trick’s freckles and Dok’s neat beard, Dapper’s beautiful curling hair, Red’s strong body, and wild blue magic curling around him like a cape. Fangs appear with his smile. He is beautiful and terrifying. He knows he is.

“Too late to snatch him out of the forest on his own!” sings Anti, taking Red by the hair and petting possessively at his head. “Were you going to try and show me up by stealing him from me? I always told you I would catch all five of them and here we are. Bet you can’t steal one of them from me. Even if you tried, bet you can’t.”

Red shrieks as the cold seems to eat into his bones, scrambling forward to hide against Anti’s back,chanting his little brother’s name. He’s never known a cold like this. He’s never known a fear like this. Whatever this creature is, he wants nothing to do with it.

This isn’t a game he wants to play.

“Catch one before the end of the week and I’ll let you borrow my little time traveler for an hour,” says Anti, grinning at the shadow that stands over him like a skyscraper, endless and condescending, hateful and cold. “But if you can’t do it - and you can’t, my friend, you really can’t - you gotta help me, like you did before with my little one. Cause he was so scared and so loving after that. He was all mine. Do that again for me. Come on, it’ll be fun. Bet you can’t. Know you can’t.”

“Anti, no,” begs Red, pressed close to his body. “No, no, no.”

But the shadow is forming and shrinking and coalescing, drifting down, drifting close, settling into a shape more familiar, but no less monstrous - a shape like that of a corpse yet alive, with eyes endless and dead, its skin so white the trees seem to cast their shadows right through it. Red manages one look at its face before the unnatural terror consumes him again. The dead face of a man who must have once been beautiful and kingly, now half-rotted, bone protruding from its hollowed cheeks and skull showing between patches of stiff, dark hair.

“Little monster,” it says, in a voice like the wind that eats away at the skin of all dead things who lie, unburied, on the earth. “I look forward to watching you lose.”

Anti smiles and whispers something in Gaelic Red does not understand, his voice dreamy and content.

The ghost disappears.

Red collapses to his knees, heaving for air, trembling as the warmth and the strength and the life come back to him.

“Anti,” he breathes.

His brother does not turn back to look at him, staring eagerly up at the stars, already planning for the game that they’ll play. It’s been so long. It’s been too long. He missed them.

“Shit,” whispers Red, kneeling on the ground, letting his head fall against the earth as he tries to breathe. “Anti, what have you done?”

pine-storm-season asked: Uh, Anti? What's going on with that??

“I told you!” says Anti, shaking his head. “I told you I came to get help. That’s why were here. What, did you think I was monstrous? There are creatures on this earth that could turn Red insane with one look at him.”

Anti gives Red a quick slap to ground him, tugging impatiently on his hair to get him moving again, and Red sucks in a deep breath and staggers back to his feet, not willing to incur his little brother’s wrath. He holds his arms around himself, shaking his head and his shoulders back and forth as he walks, his eyes closed.

“Let’s get you back to the house, poor dumb thing,” coos Anti, and all Red does is nod.

aether-mae asked: How’s J-spirit doing? You okay sweetheart?

Dapper curls closer around Blue’s body, tight enough now to make him stir gently. Dapper shakes his head hard and Blue looks up at him sleepily, his eyes dazed.

“Ohhh, it’s nighttime,” says Blue, a little slurred, a little dopey. “Ohhh, I’m not supposed be awake at night time. Oh, stars, Dapper, look the stars… I haven’t seen the stars in weeks now, ohhh.”

Dapper presses their heads close together, his teeth gritted tight in his mouth, and it is now that you see that it is not fear in his face, but rage.

bupine asked: so that's an old friend of yours, anti? what are they, if i may ask?

“I think they were a man once, or maybe a woman, and sometimes a spirit that liked the taste of human misery. But things got very messy and now they’re a little bit of everything, and never really one thing, and sometimes all thing. Trinitarian, right?” He laughs, throwing his head back.

Anonymous asked: hey, blue? how clear is your head right now, do you think?

“Ohhhh, I’m sleepy,” says Blue, snuggling against Dapper’s chest. “Ohh, haha, my head, is this my head? This is not my head… this is not my body… Look at me, I’m not me, mhhh.”

Anonymous asked: Red, are you alright, bud?

“I just want to get back to the house.”

He signs it, his face stiff with distress.

“Don’t let my brothers run off anywhere, promise me!”

Anonymous asked: Dapper, do you know who/what that was? Because I am so sorry.. Anti decided to play a very dangerous game that you and your brothers are going to be caught in the middle of. -Pink

“Yeah, I know who that is,” signs Dapper bitterly. “I know who that is better than Anti does. Oh, he doesn’t even realize. They’ll kill us all and Anti doesn’t even know.”

He buries his face against Blue’s back.

Anonymous asked: Is this "game" supposed to be a secret, Anti? I imagine since 4/5 boys know something's up it won't be for much longer.

“They can know! It will make them more cautious. They will stay in the house like good boys or the big bad wolf will get them, haha. Red, you’ll keep them in the house?”

“Yes, Anti, yes, I promise.”

bupine asked: so how did you meet them? what sort of things can they do? you said they helped you with dapper, correct?

“I met them when his creator and mine were playing silly games.”

pine-storm-season asked: There's someone there? What do they look like, we didn't see

“I want to see what they looked like to you,” says Anti eagerly, taking the camera from Red and making it rewind. Red listens in faint embarrassment as Anti watches back through everything that happened from the beginning of the night.

“When Max said Jackie, I was something worth living for!” repeats Anti with a shrieking laugh. “Awww, so sweet.”

Red is the color of his name. Anti turns to look at him, waiting for a reaction, but Red doesn’t look up.

Anti stops their walking, turns around, and drives his elbow hard into Red’s nose.

Red screams, tumbling back to the earth, tears pouring down his face from the impact. A low sob escapes him, terrified and overwhelmed, and he backs away from his little brother on all fours, whimpering and shaking his head.

“Oh, you want to look at me like that?” shouts Anti, stalking towards him. “Like you don’t know what you fucking did wrong? You think you get to say that name in my house? You think some boy gets to come along and make you feel all hot and bothered and that means you can tell Trick your real name?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“If I ever hear the word Jackie again in my goddamn life, I’ll break your fucking legs, do you understand?”

“Yes, yes, I won’t say it again!”

“Get up,” sneers Anti, turning away from him and continuing back towards the house.

Anonymous asked: They'll stay where they are, Red, it's okay. You're alright, everyone's alright.

Red limps back to the house some feet behind Anti, clutching at his bloody nose. The sight of Trick waiting by the door, safe and sound if shaken, is, he thinks, the best thing he’s ever seen.

Trick’s eyes bulge at the sight of him and he takes Red by the hand, pulling him towards the bathroom. “I’ll help you clean up, just a sec,” he murmurs, turning back to Anti.

“Anti, I can hear Dok screaming upstairs, I think something’s wrong!”

“He probably just got freaked out by all the commotion,” grumbles Anti, moving past him. “Everyone just go back to bed.”

“No, please, Anti, I’m scared, I’m scared,” cries Trick, clutching at his own heart. “Please, I think something’s wrong, I want to see him. Can’t he come down here with me?”

“Let me keep an eye on all of them, Anti,” begs Red, slumped over the sink in the bathroom.

“Both of you be quiet,” snaps Anti, but he makes the mistake of glancing at Trick’s face, and the worry there makes him uncomfortable. “Fucking fine, I’ll send him down.”

Anonymous asked: Wow Anti, you flip the fuck out when you get separated from your brothers because "tHeY'rE mInE" or whatever, and not long after getting them all back you start taunting some dangerous monster to take them from you? If that's how you feel then why'd you bother taking them back in the first place?

“First of all,” says Anti. “They are my dangerous monster and them and I know exactly the sort of game we’re playing. Even if they did take one of them, they wouldn’t hurt him, just rile him up a little and probably take him back to their place for a couple days. If I’m dumb enough to lose to them, then I deserve to get a little scare from them snatching him, haha. They won’t hurt them badly. You wouldn’t believe how soft they are secretly… stupid creature. But so ferocious when they need to be… like a storm, like a storm in the forest. Like lightning strike, just a flash of it.”

He moves up the stairs. You think, perhaps, that he is humming.

He unlocks Dok’s door and finds his brother standing there in alarm, his eyes huge. Anti rolls his eyes and grabs him by the back of his shirt, shoving him out of the room. “Go to your twin. Tell somebody to stay up on watch tonight. Get out of my sight.”

Dok does not need to be told twice, racing down the stairs.

Anti moves back towards his own room, rubbing his hands together as he plans, already deep in his head, deep in his ideas of what the next week will hold. He feels content and excited for the first time in a long time. It’s nice.

A porcelain soap dish flies through the air towards him and smashes against the wall beside his head.

Anti blinks down at the broken pieces, and then looks up.

“You,” says Dapper, shadowed by the moonlight, standing over Blue’s body, his hands raised. “Are the most selfish, stupid, pathetic little creature ever to step foot on this goddamn earth.”

Anti sighs.

“Okay,” he says, shaking his head, letting a knife appear in his hand. “So we’re doing this.”

Anonymous asked: dap, what's your plan here?

“I DON’T NEED A PLAN, I HAVE UNBRIDLED RAGE.”

Anti sighs deeply. Dapper makes a sound like a wheezing scream and picks up the lamp from the bedside drawer, throwing it right at his body. Anti glitches away, appearing at Dapper’s side.

“Stop,” he says. “If you know what’s good for you.”

“How could you do this, how could you do this?” scream Dapper’s hands as he scrambles to find his knife in one of the drawers, Anti watching with faintly irritated boredom. “You know what they’re like, you know!”

Anonymous asked: What exactly is preventing that thing from coming inside the house? I feel like you still failed to lay down any ground rules, Anti.

“Just because you humans don’t understand the ground rules doesn’t mean those of us who aren’t don’t see them right away.”

“Just because you’ve marked this place as your own, that won’t stop them from coming in here. They own things that aren’t spirit like they are, you know that!”

“I have wards up, I have curses, I have guards, I have magic, I can see them coming from any direction and they can’t teleport any closer than the yard. Beside, you know the two of us get on. They won’t hurt anyone, Dapper.”

“You don’t know that!” screams Dapper. “You don’t know what I know! You don’t know that they don’t even know who you are anymore!”

“Now you’re just hysterical,” says Anti dismissively. “Calm down before I decide you need to be beat back into place like Dok does.”

“You’re a tyrant and a madman,” hisses Dapper, teeth bared, and for a moment, you see just how easily he could be called Anti’s twin.

aether-mae asked: Wait wait- who’s ‘them’?! You know these guys Ant??

“My siblings have been good to you,” snarls Dapper, pacing back in forth of Blue like a great cat on the hunt. “My siblings are still here despite every horrible fucking thing that you’ve done to them.”

“Watch your tongue,” says Anti, very quiet. “Watch that useless tongue of yours before I forget that I told you I wanted to be friends again.”

“And you - you - despite everything, despite every chance they’ve given you - ”

Dapper’s breaths falter, his hands trembling, his eyes sliding shut. Just one tear comes running down his face. Just the one.

“After everything - after everything - ”

Dapper looks like he will, perhaps, crumple. The rage is just a cover for the hurt of it. The betrayal. For a second, on Anti’s face, regret.

“Dapper,” he says.

“After all this,” signs Dapper, very soft. “You bring my family to the Darkness.”

bupine asked: and who is their creator? do they have a name you can say?

“I’m not going to let Dark hurt you,” whispers Anti.

“Dark doesn’t know who you are,” Dapper’s hands answer, low and defeated. “I… I made them forget you, Anti. I made everyone forget us. Even… even him, Anti. I didn’t mean to.”

“You haven’t taken your medication, huh? Why not?”

“I have taken it.”

“I hate your delusions about the time travel,” mumbles Anti, shoving past him to get to the dresser and pulling out the little bottle of Haldol. “You get so controlling. Come on, take it.”

“I took it.”

“No, you didn’t. Take some.”

“There’s nothing I can say to make you believe me, is there?”

“I can’t encourage your delusions, not good for you.”

Anti takes his jaw between his hands. Dapper’s strength is gone. He lets his brother wrench his mouth open and put the Haldol on his tongue.

pine-storm-season asked: Could you tell us, dap? We don't know.

“Dark isn’t like Anti, it doesn’t want things the way he does. It just likes to hurt things and control things and then hurt things again. It will make you believe that it’s nice, but you can’t believe it. It can make you believe all sorts of things. It can make you feel things you don’t actually feel. It lies and it doesn’t like anybody but maybe one or two people, and those people are pets to it the same way I’m a pet, but also not the same way, because sometimes I really think Anti’s fond of me, and the Darkness only cares about the way that other people can make it feel satisfied.”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t remember them,” says Anti, tapping the side of his head. “It’s why you should let big brother erase and erase.”

“I’m going downstairs,” says Dapper.

Anti laughs. “No. You aren’t.”

“I’m going downstairs. I won’t sleep in your bed again.”

Anger clouds Anti’s blue eyes. He takes one dangerous step forward, staring at Dapper. Dapper does not shake.

pine-storm-season asked: Anti, let him go to them tonight, please? It was probably a stressful night for everyone and he might feel better to have the others with him instead.

“You don’t get to decide that you don’t want to be with me just because you’re feeling spooked,” says Anti.

“Wow, the fun of being friends,” snarls Dapper. “Not getting to choose whether or not you want to be friends.”

“Get on the bed.”

“You sound like such a creep right now. You are such a creep. You’re always touching me and I hate it. I hate it especially when you’re in his body. Look what you’re doing to him.” Dapper stands over Blue’s body. Blue might be asleep again, but you can’t tell. “He’ll lose his mind if this goes on, but you want to pretend none of this is happening. You always just pretend none of this is happening no matter how much pain we’re in.”

“Dapper, shut your fucking mouth.”

“You promised me you would never bring me back here,” cries Dapper. “Liar!”

“And you promised me you would never try to run away!” screams Anti, fire bursting out of him in one horrible wave, and Dapper gasps as flame devours the whole back wall of the room, leaving only that huge glass window where Dark once stood and looked at him. Anti’s hair is on fire and his eyes burn; plants sprout out of the floor as fuel and light on fire. Dapper falls to his knees at Blue’s side to cover his body with his own, whistling for help and pounding on the floor.

“You promised me you would never try to go!” Anti howls. “That you wouldn’t leave me! You promised! But who was it that had to be dragged off the side of that fucking cliff, Dapper! You selfish little brat! Like I wouldn’t have given you anything you asked for! Anything you wanted! Like I haven’t made you my favorite!”

Dapper coughs hard as smoke begins to fill up the room, shaking his head hard, but despite the rising flame, he looks up at Anti with ferocity in his star-blue eyes.

“All I have ever wanted,” he signs, each word strong as a blow. “All I have ever wanted is a chance to be free from you.”

Anti screams aloud, grabbing him by the hair.

“Anti!” screams Trick. He’s in the doorway with his brothers, staring at the rising fire. “Anti, you have to stop, you have to calm down! Anti, I’m here!”

pine-storm-season asked: Trick, get Blue out of there. The room is on fire and he can't do it himself. Anti, you need to calm down a bit and let go of Dapper. You can fight, if you must, somewhere less dangerous where no one is in danger of dying.

“I’ll get him!” calls Red, racing forward to scoop his twin up.

“Stop it!” snaps Anti.

“Anti, you’re out of control,” breathes Red, heaving his twin into his arms. “I’m taking him downstairs. I don’t care what you do to me. I won’t watch him burn just because you’re mad.”

“I could make you all stay here and burn if I wanted to,” shrieks Anti. “I could tie you here in vines and burn you like newspaper!”

“Anti, tonight has fucking sucked already!” cries Trick, moving forward. “Hey, stop, stop, please look at me! Look, your magic’s totally out of control! I know you don’t want this. Please calm down.”

“I don’t know how!” screams Anti, tearing at his hair, glitching like wild, glitching until it’s painful, fire burning in his palms. “Okay? I don’t fucking know how, I’ve never known how! I wasn’t made for fucking calming down!”

“All of you get out,” says Trick. “Give us a second.”

“No way,” snarls Dok.

“Red, I don’t care if you have to fucking drag him, get him out of here.”

Red looks up at Trick. The light of the fire is reflected in his blue eyes.

“Are you sure?”

Trick nods, just once.

“C’mere, baby,” murmurs Red, lifting Blue into the air. His twin is limp against his chest. “Dap, you too, come on. Dok, move.”

“No!” he snaps, eyes fixed on Trick. “No, he’ll kill him!”

“Trust your brother,” says Red, leaning in close to him. “Trust Trick.”

“It’s Anti I don’t trust!”

“Trust Trick more than you distrust Anti.”

Dok breathes in nervous gasps, staring up at Red. His brother takes his wrist and leads him away from the room, towards the stairs. Dok whimpers, but he doesn’t fight.

nikkilbook asked: Ladies and gentlemen and all other configurations of being, please welcome Darkiplier to the stage.

“Dark?” Red leads his brothers away from the room and down the stairs as fast as he can. “Is that their name?”

“It’s better not to call them anything at all, if you ask me,” answers Dapper. “No one should pretend that thing is something that can be encompassed by a name.”

“Well, I’m not scared of them,” says Red, trying to mean it. “They just give me the creeps when they’re close.”

Dapper doesn’t sign anything back. Red turns to see his face broken and miserable, his hands limp at his sides.

“Let’s just… let’s just lie down,” says Red. “And try not to think about it. Let’s just focus on trying to be okay. Come on, let’s go lie down.”

“Trick,” croaks Dok, tugging back towards the stairs. Red just tightens his grip on him and leads him into the bedroom, his body beginning to ache from Blue’s weight.

“Come on, Dok-Dok. Let’s sit down.”

.

He has Blue against his chest.

He has Blue against his chest and Dok on his side and, in the windowsill, the small figure of his youngest brother, watching for the Darkness.

“Let the cameras watch, Dap,” he pleads. “Come lie down with us.”

Dapper shakes his head.

Dok strips away the wrap of a bandaid and covers Red’s nose gently. Red thinks it’s more placebo than anything else, but he is grateful. Deeply grateful for Dok’s hands pressing that bandaid over his broken nose. His broken nose because he said his name. Because he said his own name.

Dok is tense until things are quiet upstairs. They are all waiting. They all listen. For Trick to come crashing down the stairs. For Anti to scream his death threats. For crying or wailing or protests. For Trick to need help.

But he never calls for them, and he never cries out in pain. When a half hour has passed, the house is silent.

“I have to go see,” whispers Dok, and, without waiting for approval, he takes off towards the stairs, moving towards his brother.

“He’s limping,” says Red.

“Anti is hurting him,” answers Dapper dully from the window.

“Yes, please don’t let go of me,” Blue is whimpering against Red’s chest, letting his brother stroke his back. “Yes, that’s my skin. That’s mine. Don’t let go of me. Please touch me.”

He hasn’t stopped whispering to himself the whole half hour. Sometimes he squirms or thrashes just to prove that he can, and Red lies still and lets him.

“Try to sleep,” he whispers.

“Yes, please don’t let go of me,” Blue chants. “Yes, please touch me. It’s night-time but I’m awake. It must be one of his dreams and I’m stuck in it. I’m stuck. I’m stuck. It’s not me…”

Red rocks their bodies as one.

You watch Henrik creep up the stairs.

The door to Anti’s room is open.

Inside, on the slightly charred, slightly ashy bed, his twin lies in Anti’s arms, deep asleep.

Dok doesn’t know why it hurts worse than the welts down his chest or the dent in his head or the cuts in his feet.

He sits down at the top of the stairs and cries for somebody to make this stop.

“Hey,” murmurs Red, holding Blue to his chest. “Hey, Blue?”

“Ro,” whispers Blue. “Is it me?”

“Blue. Hey. Stay with me.”

“Stay with you… stay… mh. I’m tired.”

Red stares out the window. Dapper is a shadow in the darkness, the moon glowing over his shoulders.

“I think we need to get out of here,” he says. “I think we need to get away.”

Blue is quiet. Red thinks perhaps he has fallen asleep.

“I’m with you,” says Blue, very quietly. “I’m with you.”

Dok crawls back into bed with them. Red lies between them and feels their heartbeats against his body.

[rinusagitora]

Another empty seat in the city  of ghosts.

Fandom: BLEACH

Characters: Toushirou Hitsugaya, Momo Hinamori, Kisuke Urahara, Tessai Tsukabishi, Ururu Tsumugiya, Jinta Hanakari, Yuzu Kurosaki, Ichigo Kurosaki, Karin Kurosaki

Pairings: HitsuKarin, others not mentioned

Words: 2.1k

Summary: Shinigami!Karin AU. Chapter 2/8. WARNINGS- mentions of suicide, dysfunctional families, mentions of spousal abuse;  Karin has taken her life. What follows is a maelstrom of emotion.

AO3

Momo laid awake the night before the Kurosaki girl's memorial.

She and Toushirou had a long history of neglecting to share personal details. Privacy, embarrassment, bridges her ex Sousuke burned gleefully. But for him to ask her to attend his girlfriend's wake was quite serious, if he came to her of all people.

Momow as never good in those situations.

Izuru squeezed her hand. "Are you finished speaking with Urahara?"

"Aye. He's arranging mine and Shirou-chan's gigai... I sent him my kimono."

Izuru nodded. "Renji wants you to come to bed."

Momo gazed into Izuru's eyes. Blue. Dried from undeath. She half expected to see flies crawling across him in the mornings. It never happened, but she always worried.

"Is this a tragedy?" she asked Izuru.

"What?"

"The Kurosaki girl's death."

Izuru shrugged. "I can't say. We all expire eventually. She sooner than, I assume, at least, her family would've liked." He stroked her knuckles. "Overthinking it gets us nowhere. We've made the arrangements, she'll be here soon enough... Now come to bed? Please?"

She smiled at Izuru. "Of course."

Momo slipped into bed with Izuru and her other spouses. She coiled against Shuuhei's back, throwing an arm over his hip.

---

She and Toushirou met in the morning at the senkaimon and were checked out by the guardians before passing through. Momo hated being stroked and prodded by strangers. It made her feel like a slab of rotting meat.

She met Kisuke with Toushirou and easily slipped on her gigai and then entered the car outside.

How awkward it was, sitting with her brother. Tense. They were on good terms and had been for years by that point. But he was upset. She could feel it. See it in the way he folded his arms and slumped. She wanted to say he'd muss his kimono, require his hair to be combed, but held her tongue and smoked instead.

Toushirou was going through enough. While agreeing to take Karin on as her charge was anxiety-inducing, it was his girlfriend's funeral. Even if she wasn't lost to Toushirou forever, it had to be traumatic.

Momo tried to dispel the image of Sousuke's body hanging from the east wall. It was only a doll. An illusion. A lie.

She chanted that until they came to the temple.

Climbing out, she smoothed her kimono. Toushirou guided her to a trio waiting in the doorway. They seemed to be familiar to him.

A young woman said, "Yuzu is livid.

"So Urahara told us," Toushirou replied.

The young woman glared at him. "I stand by her."

The giant, who she assumed was another guardian, slapped the young woman upside her head. She tenderly rubbed her scalp. "Enough, honey," he said. He then turned to her and Toushirou. "Thank you for coming. Karin-chan will be pleased."

Karin-chan. A nickname that told a story of fondness, adoration, family. That was so adorable, it almost brought a smile to Momo's face. She had a good feeling about Karin.

She managed to keep her poker face, however. She said. "I imagine. What should we expect from Kurosaki Ichigo?"

"We're keeping him in line if Yuzu doesn't," the boy replied, folding his arms. "He agreed to keep the peace when Tou-tou and he talked."

"And the Kurosaki girl?"

"Yuzu?"

"Nay, the one we're here for." Momo got it. Look out for Yuzu...

The young woman glanced into the temple interior. "She's... not crying. I think she's distancing herself from this ordeal."

Momo ashed her pipe. "Perhaps it's for the better." The young woman gave her a weird look which Momo didn't care to return. Having to watch one's funeral procession was fucking insanity. Izuru was unstable even on the best of days. That day had to be the most traumatic. Better to process it down the line.

The children's father said, "Hand-off will occur before cremation. Kurosaki Isshin only agreed to allow us in for the service since Karin asked, but the burial is for family and Kurosaki Ichigo's close friends only."

Momo refrained from asking about Karin's friends. She didn't want to mess around with that.

She took a look inside the temple instead. There were many faces she didn't recognize, but she did recognize Rukia, and said, "I see Kuchiki-fukutaichou as well.",

"She won't be causing trouble. She's here as a family friend," the children's father replied.

Momo had gotten everything she wanted out of that. She and Toushirou bowed.

"Many thanks. We'll head in," Toushirou said.

As soon as they crossed the threshold, Rukia spotted them and practically stormed over. Momo groaned. So much for not causing trouble. She already knew this service was about to be a minefield of bullshit.

"Neither of you are welcome," Rukia said, hands folded in front of her belly. "Please leave before Yuzu sees you."

"The deceased requested us, and the patriarch has permitted us entry," Toushirou replied.

"No matter. Do you want to start shit?"

There was an edge to their voices that alerted Momo it was her turn to step in before a fight erupted. At least she was good at reminding people of their places. God knew she had to put her foot down following Sousuke's desertion. She had a meltdown, she wasn't transformed into a doormat.

"We haven't started anything, Kuchiki-fukutaichou. Besides... do you think it wise to start shit here? Our powers are merely dampened, but I know for a fact there are enough of us gathered here to alert trouble if contention brews," Momo said, before taking a long drag from her pipe.

Rukia was silenced by a youthful blonde rushing over, pink in the face and nostrils flaring. Momo wasn't a gambler, but she'd bet that was Yuzu, judging by how Rukia ran like she was dodging a raging ox.

Yuzu got right in Toushirou's face. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

He repeated, "Your father said we were welcomed to the ceremony."

Momo's first instinct was to snap Yuzu's neck as soon as her finger jabbed Toushirou's chest. 'You murdered my sister!" Yuzu accused with such venom, Momo watched for it to pour out the sides of her mouth. "I don't want you here!"

"And I do?" Toushirou said, sighing.

"And who is this skank?" Yuzu asked, jerking her chin at Momo.

"My sister. Don't treat her like my mistress."

Momo kept her temper in check, reminding herself of how she reacted to Sousuke's death. Was being called a skank worse than trying to assassinate your family? Nay.

But it was tempting to break Yuzu's teeth. Skank... As if.

Before it escalated, Momo summoned her will to kindly cusp Yuzu's hands. "We are here to grieve just as ye. I understand how difficult this is. My husband passed during a tumultuous time," she said. Her eyes watered, again recalling the image of Sousuke pinned the East wall. "We hadn't time to bury him, either."

Yuzu seemed to diffuse. She looked at her socks. "I'm sorry," she croaked. "It's been a long couple of days."

"There's nothing to apologize for." Momo smiled and bowed to Yuzu. Yuzu returned the gesture. "If you need anything, please let me know. I haven't service at home, but Urahara-san can reach me if needed."

Yuzu's gratitude seemed genuine, at least.

"May we take a seat?" Momo asked.

Yuzu gestured to the last rows. "In the back, please. The front rows are taken.',

"Aye. Thank you again, Kurosaki-san."

Momo sat, crossed her legs, and surveyed the room. It was strange being unable to see spirits. For the better, undoubtedly. But she wanted to size up Karin in person there too. Evaluate how best to break the ice with someone who just took their own damn life.

But, by God, it was a fucking circus there. Ichigo and the man who seemed to be their father were distanced far from Yuzu despite sitting together. Ichigo's legs were pointed away from Yuzu, repelled by an unknown force. He was practically pushing Orihime out of her seat. The father was statuesque. Completely still unless approached. Seeming to collapse in on himself.

So much for a family. As dysfunctional as Momo's own.

"I can see why Kurosaki-san is so upset," Momo announced.

Toushirou grumpily responded with, "Karin was in pain."

"I'm in no position to judge her," Momo reminded Toushirou. "But look at the Kurosaki family... Stiff as boards. The little one is the only one weeping, and neither of them is consoling her."

"They're... dysfunctional. I'm sure she refused it."

"For good reason?" Momo asked.

"Aye. They... nay, we all, have lied to her for years. I'm sure she harbors conflicting feelings."

Momo hummed. "Aye." A fucking disaster indeed. No wonder why Karin sought to escape into the Seireitei. After Sousuke deserted, Momo wanted to run away too. Far away. Someplace her pain couldn't reach her.

Karin was in for a fucking surprise, she thought as she took a puff of smoke from her pipe. Years later, and even married thrice over, Momo still ached over her ex's betrayal. Over the pain he caused her over the decades she served and adored him. That pain never went away. She doubted Karin would be an exception.

The priest began the service with a sutra. Momo took note of the crowd. The family, friends, Toushirou. Kisuke and his people seemed surprisingly invested in Karin, judging by their weeping and clinging to one another in the center rows. Were they Karin's only friends? Was everyone else there to console the family instead of grieving?

It saddened Momo. It was no wonder why Karin took her own life, with so little tying her to the World of the Living.

And Momo knew how lonely it was. Having so few people who cared about her following Sousuke's desertion. Karin must've felt so isolated.

Following the service, Momo guided Toushirou outside. They waited in silence behind Kisuke's van to trade off their gigai. When he arrived, his eyes were pink like he'd been crying.

"I don't have much time... I'm going to the cremation as well," he said.

Momo wondered how to respond as she removed herself from her gigai. What was she supposed to say in response to someone close to the deceased having to pick the bones out of ashes? It was heart-breaking.

Momo and Toushirou bowed to Kisuke. "Best of, Urahara-san," Momo said. How meaningless...

Kisuke merely said, "Kurosaki will meet you by the aqueduct under an overpass. It's in the center of town." He frowned. "Anticipate some... some shit from him too. He's very upset."

"Thanks," Toushirou said.

Momo and he hopped into the sky. He guided her to the center of Karakura, being more familiar with its layout than she. Thankfully, Ichigo was easily seen from the sky. They landed a good distance away.

Momo saw Toushirou's fists curl out of the corner of her eye. Rage. She knew it well.

The girl who must've been Karin sat on a bench. Dark hair framed her face, a soul chain hung from her chest. Momo hoped she hadn't felt it consume itself. The agony would've been unbearable.

What a cruel fate to be made to stick around, with so much at stake. Momo decided she hated Ichigo.

Before Toushirou could lash out, Momo said, "Thank you for allowing us into your sister's service, Kurosaki-sama." Butter him up. Get out of there as soon as possible.

Ichigo folded his arms. "It wasn't my choice."

She smiled. "Nonetheless. I'd like this to be done in an expeditious manner as possible."

Karin stood and began to walk over to them. "Let's go," she said, eyes locked on Toushirou.

Ichigo stopped her. "Hang on." He was glaring at Toushirou. Just in case, she manifested snakes in her sleeves to bind Ichigo if he lashed out. "I want him to admit his fault in this."

"Jesus Christ!" Karin shrieked. "I killed myself because there's nothing for me here! Toushirou had nothing to fucking do with it."

"Bullshit! He had to have said something."

"It's your fault I killed myself, alright? It's all your fault! I got tired of getting steamrolled and gaslit by you so I killed myself to get the hell away from you!" Karin ducked his arm and ran over to Toushirou. He seemed elated she ran to him, clung to him. "I'm going to the Seireitei. I'm becoming a shinigami... It's the only way I'll be happy. Fulfilled."

Ichigo seemed wounded. Good riddance. As far as Momo was concerned, he was a complete ass, no better than manipulative scum. Men made themselves so loathsome.

More importantly, Karin was damaged. Just as Momo was. She resolved to take care of her new charge as a sister, as family, as a protege.

[monsterfucker-lisa-swallows]

She tried to start a lynch mob using the old white lady trick of “two black men demanded drugs then stole my money and phone” as a cover up for murdering her son. Don’t let this slide, I’m literally begging you. Not this time. 

This boy was nonverbal, so when he was heard screaming he couldn’t explain to people that his mom was trying to kill him. They only realized after she took him to another canal to drown him that she’d been trying to kill him the first time. Because you guys don’t listen to us. You don’t believe us. You believe the people who do this to us. We end up dead because many of us don’t have a voice and you won’t raise yours with us. You say “he’s in a better place” instead of making this a better place for him

(Article from 23rd May, 2020)

This happens so often. I’m lucky to be alive because I was abused horrifically by people who were trying to “cure” me. Don’t believe me that this is common?

The Autistic Self-Advocacy Network (an organization I actually support, as opposed to Autism Speaks) reports that “In the past five years, over 600 people with disabilities have been murdered by their parents, relatives or caregivers.”

Earlier this year, an 8-year-old autistic boy was murdered by his father who had sole custody of him. He called the child a “piece of shit” two days before the child died in a freezing New York City garage in the dead of winter. His father said after the death that he’d been through “more stressful things”. They had home video footage of him beating his children. 

His name was Thomas Valva

In 2018, a 5-year-old boy with “ fragile X syndrome, pervasive developmental disorder, attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, impulse control disorder and dysphasia” was the subject of 11 different complaints to child services because of suspected abuse, but as was true in my case no action was taken. He died of asphyxiation and a drug overdose. “Brayson suffered a broken arm, broken femur and numerous burns and bruises in the years before his death, court records state. Price withdrew Brayson from school a month later. It was October. By November, he was dead.” (Classic abuse tactic, isolating the victim.) When child services investigated her prior to the death, the mother claimed he couldn’t feel pain.

“Prior to his death, Price googled "Risperidone overdose" multiple times, according to the court transcript. Ingalls searched multiple phrases, including "beat child with fragile X abuse, I want to kill my autistic child, painful ways to die (and) most painful torture."

Ingalls told Price via text message that he hated her son, wanted to buy a ticket to see Brayson take his last breath and thought she should "kill him while he is young and do something with your life before he robs you of any chance of ever being happy or being anything other than a stay-at-home retarded caregiver,"”

really indicative of how you see us, guys

His name was Brayson Price

here we have a woman who is anonymous and said she was “overwhelmed and felt totally alone after her child was diagnosed with autism.” (Like cry me a fucking river, Karen.) Pled not guilty by insanity. She googled suicide attempts and mothers who killed autistic children in the 48 hours before she smothered her 3 year old daughter with a Minnie Mouse pillow. She was convinced the child’s form of autism was “more severe” than it was...which...okay are people who cover this story expecting me to believe it would be justified if it WAS more severe?

Her name wasn’t printed, but she’s not forgotten.

Here we have a Tennessee mother covering up her husband’s abuse and murder of her 5-year-old autistic son

His name was Joe Clyde Daniels

Think this is getting depressing? It’s state enforced

Up to 50% of people killed by police have registered disabilities

911 Can Be a Death Sentence for Blacks in a Mental Health Crisis

Last year, a non-verbal autistic man became agitated and shoved an off-duty police officer when in line for samples at Costco in California. His parents tried to apologize and explain, but the police officer fired on them 10 times - killing him and wounding his parents. No charges were pressed.

His name was Kenneth French

We have a manslaughter charge for a cop killing a 6 year old boy? At least he got 40 years for it?

His name was Jeremy Mardis

I don’t know how many times we have to tell you this before you believe us, but our lives are not worthless. Regardless of what “level of functioning” we’re at (which is already a ridiculous metric because I’m apparently considered high functioning even when I barely hold a job), we’re not burdens and we’re not inherently dangerous. People keep saying they’re in a better place now, but that’s just excusing it. Make HERE a better place! Stop letting these news stories slide! Stop spreading thinkpieces by Autism Speaks lamenting over a poor mother who has been burdened with an autistic child and saying she’s so brave to not murder her child! Hell, sometimes you guys make whole documentaries about mothers who murder autistic children SYMPATHIZING with them! And stop calling cops on autistic people having meltdowns, for fuck’s sake! 

Autism isn’t something we suffer from, not inherently! We suffer from the trauma of being forced to live in a world where people abuse and kill us for being different! You keep killing us instead of listening to us! Being non-verbal should NEVER be a death sentence! 

I made some posters just because I, too, sometimes need a catch phrase. Feel free to make more.

(Image: “Autism isn’t deadly, ableism is. Stop passively condoning the murder of autistic people. Hear us. Believe us.”)

(Image: “Autism shouldn’t be a death sentence. Neurodivergent children have a higher risk of being bullied and abused. Black autistic children are at a higher risk of corporal punishment at school. 50% of the victims of police shootings are neurodivergent. Hear us. Believe us.)

(Image: “Silence shouldn’t = death. Non-Verbal autistic children are routinely abused and killed by parents because nobody can hear the cries for help. Non-verbal autistic adults are shot by police because they’re assumed to be dangerous. Hear Us. Believe us.”)

Something for my non-verbal or selectively verbal peeps out there.

(Image: Non-Verbal but not silent. Some autistic people aren’t capable of verbal communication. This doesn’t make them undeserving of life or respect. Others can communicate with text or sign or are selectively verbal. It’s important to learn how to communicate with an autistic person in their specific way and to not force them to conform to yours. Practice conflict resolution. Be patient. Hear us. Believe us.)

For people like me who can speak, or for any allies who will stand with us but not talk over us:

(Image: I don’t take my voice for granted. I lift my voice for all those who can’t speak for themselves. I see you. I’m with you. I respect you. You deserve to be here. Hear us. Believe us.)

(Image: Vaccines don’t cause autism. I literally don’t know how to tell you that those findings were debunked over 2 decades ago and you’re bringing back deadly diseases. Autism won’t kill your child. Measles will. I can’t believe I still have to say this. Hear us. Believe us.)

Anyway, that’s my message. I’m sick of this. Feel free to spread this like anti-vaxxers spread measles, because people DO talk about this, but I don’t see NTS willing to do much about it usually. Unfortunately we do need you on our side to hold yourselves accountable.

And it goes without saying that even though this is an autism specific post, this post is also friendly to other types of neurodivergence. We’re all in this (risk category) together.

[isa-ghost]

Corruption AU

*Galaxy brains*

Catch me tempted to start a whole AU based off my theory that Chase got corrupted at the end of Dark Silence and is living through slowly changing and growing sick and discovering freaky powers he didn’t have before and realizing this is what his comatose best friend went through before the August 3rd/March 5th operation was hijacked by Anti.

Oh god this might be a temporary muse but god am I about to blow it up real quick anyway. There’s details on it below the cut.

Henrik is the one who put Jack in the coma and regrets it deeply. Half-possessed by Anti in the moment he did it, he knew Jack would die unless he induced a coma to stabilize him easier than blindly trying to figure out how Anti his possessed self was killing him.

He wasn’t gone for 9 months but rather 2. In-game the time Jack flatlined was March 5th, 2018 and Henrik reappeared May 3rd, 2018. He has barely revealed any info about what happened in that time, but any time he’s opened up about it to the other egos, Jack’s comatose body, or in vlogs on the channel, he gets extremely anxious and can’t elaborate. He’s trying to coach himself into healing enough to tell the story so it won’t happen to others.

It wasn’t one big operation from August 3rd, 2017 to March 5th, 2018. Jack was in the hospital on and off suffering severe affects from Anti’s constant assaults on him. Anti hijacked the August 3rd operation and March 5th operations. He might’ve hijacked a few in-between but nowhere near the level of chaos and damage on those two days. (I haven’t decided yet lol).

Henrik saved Chase’s life after a suicide attempt soon after his divorce was filed (Bro Average) and is very protective of him, but stretches himself incredibly thin between caring for Jack, watching over Chase, and dealing with his own trauma.

Obviously Chase took over the channel for Jack in his place. The community is suspecting he’s him and not Jack slowly, which he’s somewhat worried about, but hasn’t seen any anger about it yet so he feels like it won’t be a big horrific reveal if he ever gives up the facade and comes clean. It was hard enough watching Henrik’s vlog announcing Jack’s coma.

Being that he’s running the channel in Jack’s place when that’s (one of many things?) what Anti wants to do in order to gain more power, Anti attacked him (Dark Silence) and this is how/why Chase is slowly suffering the slow corruption Jack did from October 2016 to now.

Chase blacked out for a very long time after Dark Silence but beelined for Henrik when he came to his senses. When he found Henrik, he started to grow unstable again and broke down about being cornered by Anti and not knowing what was happening to him now before completely snapping again. Henrik had to fend him off, restrain him, and then had a minor trauma-related meltdown because his best friend is going through what he did on August 3rd and March 5th. Little does he know, this is going to progress far beyond just two one-off traumatic possessions and a two month kidnapping.

Anti lurks around constantly in between times harassing the community or toying with Jack’s comatose body on occasion. He’s watching and very much savoring the downward spiral Chase is in. A majority of what’s happened since May 2018 has been Chase glitching and acting strange rather than Anti, hence the camera/screen glitching more often than his physical body. The remaining fractions of cryptic/glitchy videos has been Anti hacking into the channel and reminding the community he’s lurking. After each time he’s done this, Henrik and Chase have had to reset all passwords to Jack’s social media that they’ve been using to make sure he’s kept out.

Sometimes Chase doesn’t feel/realize/see the recording getting meddled with by himself until well after its uploaded and he sees the community panicking about it, other times he’s well aware it’s going on and is acting that way on camera on purpose because he’s experiencing corruption affects or having blackouts. He‘s ashamed of himself for letting the community see what’s happening to him. Little did he know Anti had cameras record what he did to Chase and uploaded it to the channel so they all already know something is deeply wrong with Chase. He doesn’t have the will to go into detail about everything and clarify, so even though he’s upset about all the different speculations and theories about what’s going on because most of them are incorrect, he’d rather leave them to their own devices because the truth is complicated and messy and would be way too much to explain in a video or post.

Not only Chase, but Henrik keeps in close communication with the community. He keeps them up to date on Jack’s condition, how he personally is doing, how anniversaries and birthdays go, if Anti makes any appearances off-screen around them, his progress with finding Marvin and small updates from Jackie.

Jackie and Marvin are Henrik’s best friends since before Henrik met Chase. They all met through Jack. The coma struck all three of them with different kinds of grief. Jackie stopped heroing for a while and has kept a pretty low profile. He’s too distraught to fight as hard as he usually does and he’s also terrified he’s next on Anti’s list. He Probably Is. Marvin has completely vanished and nobody has heard from him. The truth is, he’s wiped himself off the radar to practice every type of magic he can find a way to learn about. He’s relentlessly training himself to avenge Jack and keep Anti away from the others.

Jameson is a sort of wild card buzzing around wherever needed. He typically hangs around Henrik, who saved him between operations on Jack. Anti attacked him the moment he was created to get him either on his side or out of the picture so he had less loose ends to tie up. He mutilated Jameson’s throat and left him for dead (though Jameson was created mute, the subtle throat scar he has is a common misconception people have when they first meet him). Jackie and Marvin found him, brought him to Henrik, and he was saved. Now recovered, he’s slowly taught Jackie, Marvin, and Chase BSL (Henrik already knew it in case of disabled patients), and floats between places doing whatever he can to help. He knows minor medical assistance from Henrik and helps him with Jack sometimes, he guards Jack’s hospital room (he’s got rapidly developing time powers and he’s not afraid to use them), practices said developing powers on his down time, and just generally does whatever small things he can to make life easier on the other four.

Jackie and Marvin had no idea Dark Silence happened until they both (at separate times on their own) found Anti’s footage on the channel. They’ve sunken even deeper into the grieving/coping methods they developed after Jack went into a coma.

Quit the Game to Win, most (if not all) of the X Scary Games, 1 Video series, any other videos we’ve had random, strange, fiery panic-worthy behavior and glitches from since May 2018 are all Chase. If someone were to watch the videos consecutively, Chase’s deterioration would be a lot more clear, a lot more scary, and a lot more heartbreaking.

So far Chase’s side affects are small glitches, mood swings, nose bleeds, ears ringing, nightmares, random blackouts (usually in which he does cryptic shit or uncharacteristic and unnerving behavior during), headaches, paranoia, and several other (mostly mental) symptoms.

For now, Henrik and Chase are waiting things out. Both of them are very stressed, scared, and tired.

Might edit this (will reblog if I do) or just straight up reblog it with more info if I think up more,,,, if I ever touch this AU again?? Idk it was spontaneous and usually my muses like that don’t last long. XD But I’d be happy to keep this an occasional writing prompt thing or something... Hmmmmm...

Also if you wanna send me asks/write/draw about this AU ever, feel free! Just tell me and tag me! :0

[scornedlove]

Chapter Twenty-Five

ROBYN

“Don't even go inside” I muttered to myself as I approached Dre’s front door. The entire ride over, I prayed he would still be at work so I wouldn’t have to get a lecture from him about last night. Of course, with my luck, that wasn’t the case. His car was parked out front, so I knew there was no avoiding the conversation I’d been dreading. 

"Oh well" I sighed, preparing for the judgement I was about to face, and knocked on the door.

“Wow” Dre smirked, with his eyes damn near popping out of his head when he opened the front door. He was fresh out the shower wearing nothing but a robe, which was partially open. Damn I have the worst timing.

“Sorry, I wouldn’t ha-”

“That cut is fire. Reminds me of cat woman.” he interrupted in awe, giving me a once over. 

“Yeah, I needed something different.” I shrugged, running my hand through my pixie cut. 

“It’s definitely different. That shirt looks good on you too” he added, disappearing down the hall, leaving me no choice but to come in. I looked around his living room for my stuff while trying so hard to remember anything from last night, but my mind was still coming up empty.

“I couldn’t find my clothes or phone anywhere this morning” I explained when he reappeared in a t-shirt and sweat pants.  I didn’t mean to glance him over, but I did, and the first thing I noticed was he didn’t have any underwear. I felt my skin flush and immediately drifted towards the door.

“That might be because you didn’t wear any” 

“So, you telling me I came over here ass naked?” I shrieked in disbelief.

“Kinda” he chuckled shaking his head. “You had that trench coat on, so you were at least covered up”

“Ugh. I’m so sorry Dre. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking, but I was going through some shit. Don't even ask.” I sighed, focusing my attention on an old picture of him and his mom. I'd seen it hundreds of times, but I couldn’t look him in his face right now. I felt guilty for popping up on him after being MIA for so long, even though that wasn't my intention.

“We don’t have to talk about it, but I am worried about you. How are you feeling?” he asked, motioning for me to sit.

“OK. Please tell me you have some fucking Tylenol” I muttered, taking a seat on his sofa. He retrieved the pills from his bathroom and a bottled water from the fridge, then stood in front of me, refusing to hand them over until we locked eyes.

“How are you feeling?” he repeated, this time more sincere than before. 

“Like shit” I retorted, popping the pills and swishing some water around before swallowing them.  After venting to Ursie and my favorite soup from Panera, my headache was finally gone, but my body was still sore as fuck.

“I bet. Last night was…crazy. I’ve never seen you like that before” he snickered, attempting to lighten the mood.

“People keep telling me that.” I shook my head, as my face began to heat up from embarrassment. “Did I at least have my phone with me?”

“Yeah, someone was blowing you up, so you threw it.” he explained, grabbing a Ziploc bag from his kitchen and bringing it back to me. ”The screen shattered, but it should be fixable.” 

“Thanks, and thanks for not judging me. You know I wasn’t in my right mind last night; I just hope you’re the only person I fucked.”

“Woah, slow down. You know I’m not that type of guy”

“When I woke up naked, I assumed… so we didn’t…have sex?” I stammered, completely confused.

“No. You texted me saying you were on your way. Half an hour later, you were at my door in that.” He nodded towards the coat that laid across the chaise.

“Well thanks for not taking advantage of my stupidity” I sighed, biting my bottom lip to force back a wave of emotions that threatened to escape. Why did he have to be so damn respectful? He was really one of the good guys, which made me feel worse for pushing him out of my life to begin with.

“You good?” he asked, taking a seat next to me. I was trying so hard to hold everything in, that the tension in my face must’ve gave away my true feelings. My voice caught in my throat, so I nodded my head as I sniffed back tears.

“Really Anna? You can’t keep it all inside. Bottling it up won’t do any good.” he urged, squeezing my shoulder. That simple touch was enough to encourage the waterfall to proceed. Tears poured from my eyes, but I refused to release the rest. I didn’t plan on letting him see me like this. Especially when it all stemmed from Chris.

“Let it out. You’re gonna pass out if you don’t release that shit.”

“I feel….out of control” I admitted, grasping his thigh as I struggled to breathe. Although I was already sitting, I felt like I was falling.

“Put your head between your legs” he ordered, before darting out of the room. Seconds later he was back with two more pills. I wasn’t even sure what it was, but he was the doctor and I trusted him, so I tossed them back with another sip of water.  It took a few minutes, but the trembling stopped and the tears eventually followed.

I couldn’t believe I broke down in front of Dre like that. If last night didn’t ruin his perception of me, I’m sure today did. At this point, it didn’t even matter. My mind was racing with all the ways I could get Chris back for hurting me the way he did; from sleeping with Quincy to telling Tae everything that happened between us. If she knew everything he put me through, she’d run in the opposite direction. Either way, I knew had to do something. I didn’t go through hell for him to ride off into the sunset with some random chick. It’s not right and there’s no way I’m letting him get away with it.

AUNDRE

“Do you have time to take me home? If not, it’s cool. John is just a phone call away.” Anna asked, after clearing her throat. We had been sitting in silence for the past ten minutes because neither of us knew what to say after the meltdown she’d just had.

“I can take you”

“You sure? I’m not trying to be a bother”

“You know I got you. You won’t ever be a bother to me.” I reassured her as I helped her gather her things and led the way to my car.

The entire ride she quizzed me about work and family. It was obvious she was trying to keep me talking about my life so she wouldn’t have to comment on hers, but I went along with it. If she didn’t want to talk, I wasn’t interested in probing.

“I hope you can forgive me for intruding like I did last night. You could’ve had a woman over for all I know.” She stated jumping into apology mode the moment we got to her block. To be honest, I was more worried about her than offended. I was sick of the victim role she kept feeding into and wanted her to make better decisions. How do I tell her that without pissing her off though?

“You know me better than that. I don’t have random women in and out of my place.”

“I know, but you get what I’m saying.” she sighed, rolling her eyes. 

“Honestly, this shit scares me. It’s obvious you’re not okay and that doesn’t sit well with me.” I stated, choosing my words carefully. I glanced in her direction, waiting for a response, but she just stared out the window. 

“Why do you even care?” she asked, finally facing me. I couldn’t believe the sadness that was seeping through her beautiful green eyes.

“Are you kidding me? You were the one who kept me sane when Teyana was putting me through the same roller-coaster ride you’re going through with Chris.  I never told you this, but you saved me from committing suicide.”

“What? You tried to kill yourself over Teyana?”

“Do you remember that time, sophomore year, when you and Chris were supposed to go see some movie, but ya’ll got into a big argument?” I quizzed. 

After a moment of thought, she nodded adamantly. “I found a message in his phone from another girl and ended up making him stop the car so I could walk home that night”

“Well, if you hadn’t come back when you did, I would’ve gone through with swallowing a bottle of Tylenol. You know Teyana was my first serious relationship. I really thought I was gonna marry that girl, then I’d found out about her cheating on me. At that time, I couldn’t imagine being with anyone else and hated the thought of her being with anyone else so much, that I would’ve rather died. I’d just finished writing a letter to my mom when you stormed through the front door in tears. It was the first time I saw you cry. Instantly, I felt the need to protect you and I realized I couldn’t do that if I were dead.”

“Wow. That’s crazy Dre. I’m glad you didn’t go through with it. You were my best friend, my only friend at the time, that would’ve crushed my soul.”

“I’m only telling you this because it was a rough time for me, yet I hid it and wouldn’t let anyone in. I want to be here for you, but I don’t know how. Tell me what you need.”

“What were those pills you gave me?” She asked, fumbling with her fingers. “They really helped.”

“Xanax. I only had the 1mgs. I know you usually take the halves, but I’ve never seen you tremble so hard. You need to ask your doctor to increase yours.”

“Honestly, I haven’t seen my doctor in a while. I got tired of doctors, hospitals, and anything remotely related. Besides, I was doing good, so I stopped going.”

“Well there’s your mistake. You’ve been through a lot and as much as you want to be over it, you aren’t. Promise me you’ll make an appointment sooner than later.”

“I…uh. Can you just give me some more?” she pleaded, poking out her bottom lip. I hated when she did that. "I just need a few on hand for situations like earlier, which doesn't happen often. I get why you're worried but don't be. I would never harm myself.

“I don’t want you making it a habit, but I can give you a few. I have some samples at the office. Just stop by whenever you can and I’ll help you out.”

“Thank you so much, I don’t know what I’d do without you. I really owe you one.”

“I can get in trouble for this, so I’m not doing it forever. You need to stop being a pain and get in to see your doctor.. That’s all I’m asking.” I added, and she reluctantly agreed. 

I watched her until she entered her front door and debated on staying awhile. I wanted to make sure she was good, although I knew I’d done all I could. I was about to pull off when a black Porsche pulled up and parked right behind me. 

“This motherfucker” I muttered when the driver and I made eye contact. The music was blasting and the convertible top was down, so there was no mistaking who was inside.

He didn't need to be here. I was sick of this cycle draining her and I wasn't going to sit by and watch anymore. I took a deep breath, pulled my keys from the ignition, and quickly hopped out of my car. The closer I got to his car, the better I could see that smug look on his face, the more I wanted to punch him. I was sick of him and he was gonna feel my wrath today.

ROBYN

“What a night" I groaned, kicking my pumps off the moment I walked in my front door.  I've never drank so much that I couldn't remember the night before, but at the same time, I was glad I did. Too bad it didn’t make me forget the past three years of my life.

"Mama's home" I sang, showing Ollie and Pepe some love when they came running. I realized they were hungry and instantly felt guilty for disappearing on them last night. I quickly filled their bowls, wondering why Rayven hadn’t fed them for me. We haven’t been the closest since she’s been back, but she still looks out for my babies. She loves them just as much as I do. 

I knocked on her bedroom door and after a minute with no response, I let myself in. I was shocked to find a hole in my wall, broken glass on the floor, ripped, bloody clothing on the ground, and Rayven nowhere to be found. I called her and after two rings, was sent to voicemail. My next instinct was to call the police, but I tried her one more time instead.

“What the fuck do you want?!” she screamed in my ear, after the first ring.

“Scuse me?”

“You heard me. I left your house key on the kitchen counter and didn’t take anything that belongs to you. So, what the fuck do you want?”

“What the fuck happened to my room?”

“Are you kidding me?! You did that shit! I apologized for my fuck up a long time ago, and if you knew you didn’t truly forgive me, you could’ve said something then. After what you did last night, don’t call or text me. Matter of fact, don’t even consider me family.” she snapped, before hanging up in my face. I had no idea what she was talking about and was about to call her back, but the dogs barking uncontrollably stole my attention. 

“Hush!” I ordered, when I found them on the couch barking out the window. After they calmed down, I realized what they were losing their shit over and my heart dropped. Chris and Dre were in front of my house yelling at each other, and by the looks on their faces, it was escalating fast.

“All you gotta do is get back in your car and keep it pushing. This ain’t got shit to do with you” Chris exclaimed with clenched fists, getting in Dre’s face.

“If it involves Ana, it involves me” Dre countered, standing his ground. 

“What’s going on?!” I yelled, running towards them as quick as my bare feet would allow.

“Nothing, Chris was just leaving” Dre announced, throwing his arm out to keep me back.

“I’m not going anywhere”

“Chris, what are you doing here?”  I intervened, getting between the two of them.

“We need to talk” He stated, attempting to grab my hand. 

“I have nothing to say to you, leave.” I countered, dodging his reach and crossing my arms.

“Don’t shut me out like this. Can we please ta-”

“You deaf man? She said leave!” Dre snapped, cutting Chris off. I’ve never seen him this mad, and couldn’t believe he was challenging Chris this way. I expected Chris to lose his shit, but he leaned against his car unbothered.

“Dre you can leave too! Ya’ll aren’t about to do this in front of my house”

“I’m not going anywhere until this piece of shit is gone” he exclaimed, pointing at Chris as he pulled out a pack of Newport's and lit one. I could tell he was trying to piss Dre off, and it was pissing me off too.

“Please don’t do this. I'm not some damsel in distress. I’m a big girl, I can handle myself” I begged, rubbing my forehead. I was already stressed out; I didn’t want to deal with anything else right now. I was liable to snap and I prayed he sensed it in my tone. 

“I’ll let you handle it...this time” He sneered, staring Chris down the entire walk to his car. When he pulled off, I exhaled feeling partially relieved.

“I hope you ain’t fucking that punk” Chris spat, pissing me off even more.

“It’s none of your concern who I’m fucking!” I yelled, snatching his cigarette from his mouth. I threw it on the ground and stomped on it to show him I wasn’t playing. “You have some nerve showing up here, after the decision you made yesterday.”

“I didn’t decide on anything” 

“Not being able to decide is equivalent to choosing her. If you loved me, there would be no question to it.”

“That’s not right and you know it”

“Not right?!” I exclaimed, shaking my head. 

“Robyn, you’re asking me to break this woman’s heart, when all she’s ever done was be good to me”

“WHAT ABOUT MY HEART?! ALL I EVER DID WAS BE GOOD TO YOU!” 

“I know and I’m sorry. That’s why I’m trying to fix this, but I need to do it the right way.” he explained, attempting to close the distance between us.

“What part of ‘all or nothing’ don't you understand?" I quizzed, losing my patience. I tried to push him away, but he grabbed my hand as tight as he could.

“Rob, don’t do this to me please. I need us to be okay.” he begged, as I twisted out of his tight grip.

“There is no us! I never want to see you again! Now get the fuck off my property, and if you come back, I’m calling the police!” I stated, leaving him on the street. He called my name over and over and for the first time since I’ve known him, it didn’t affect me one bit. That’s how I knew it was official, I was done with him.

[thechildoflightning]

Ch6- Two Consuls (January)

Title: Calendrical Consequences [Masterpost]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Pairings: eventual LAMP, background Logicality

~~~

Chapter Title: Two Consuls (January)- Chapter Six

Summary: Virgil can't help but think of his mom after a comment Patton made. And well, people always say that things get worse before they get better.

Warnings: PTSD, Family Problems, Victim Blaming (in a way), Shutdown/Meltdown, Panic Attacks, Suicide and Self Harm Mention (past)

[ao3 link]

~~~

Two Consuls (January)- Chapter Six

January 9, 2019

“So Patton told me something a few weeks ago, and I can’t get it out of my head,” Virgil confessed, looking up at Picani. Picani gestured for Virgil to continue.

“I blame myself for my mom leaving me and my dad.”

“Care to elaborate?” Picani asked.

Virgil sighed and nodded.

“Yeah, okay,” he said with a huff, “So when I was kidnapped, it was obviously really hard on my parents, and eventually everyone thought I had died,” Virgil waved his hands as he talked, “And they adjusted to that. But seven years later I turned up, with a mess of PTSD, anxiety, depression, suicidal tendencies, you name it. She couldn’t handle that. She left.”

Picani nodded.

“So how do you fit in?” he asked, “How was it your fault that your mom left?”

Virgil rubbed the back of his neck with a hand as he glanced around the room, avoiding Picani’s eyes.

“Well,” he said, “If I had just been, I dunno, less,” Virgil looked for a word, “fucked up,” he settled on, “Maybe she would of stayed.”

“Maybe,” Picani agreed.

Virgil snorted, “Wow, thanks Doc, way to make me feel better.”

Picani leaned forward.

“Virgil, that’s not my job. My job isn’t to lie to you to make you feel better, it is to help you through the issues you face so you can learn the skills to make yourself feel better,” he explained.

“Well then thanks for helping me make myself feel better. Totally working,” Virgil bit out as he looked off to the side.

“Virgil, maybe your mom would have stayed if you were hurting as much after what happened to you. But, she might of still left. Maybe she had been thinking about it for awhile. Maybe she hadn’t. The point is, that’s not something you can control. It was a decision your mother made,” Picani reasoned.

Virgil took a breath and looked around the office, eyes catching the numerous colorful and cartoon-themed displays in a futile attempt to ignore Picani’s words. He was good at his job. Very good. Virgil was already feeling less responsible. It was infuriating.

“But,” Virgil argued, “It’s possible I could have prevented it.”

“No,” Picani said, “That is not your responsibility. You were a traumatized child in this situation. It was never responsibility,” he shifted slightly and then took a new direction, “It’s like, take some of your triggers for example.”

Virgil immediately stiffened.

“We can work on those triggers in therapy together, but there’s a large potential that some of those things will always remind you of your trauma. Your mom went through trauma too, and sadly, you could very likely be one of her triggers that remind her of that trauma. So could your dad, so could your house. But those things aren’t the triggers faults. What’s the saying about triggers?”

“Triggers are scary, but they’re just that, scary, they can’t hurt you.”

It was something the first therapist Virgil had ever had told him in his early days of recovery. The therapist was absolute shit, but that particular phrase had sat with him all these years. He introduced it to Picani when they first started. Iit seemed a bit childish at this point in Virgil’s life, but it helped keep him grounded.

“Exactly. And just like it’s your responsibility to adjust to your triggers, it’s your mom’s responsibility to adjust to hers. You’ve learned to adjust through therapy, practice, and assistance from Trixie, because removing the trigger from the equation altogether is generally unrealistic and impractical, forcing us to work on adjusting to our situation instead. It seems like your mom never adjusted- or worked on adjusting- to her own triggers.”

“So my mom removed me instead.”

“Yes.”

The two sat in silence for a minute, Virgil processing that unfortunate conclusion.

Virgil sighed, “That sucks.”

“Yes, yes it does. I’m sorry Virgil. And I don’t know your mom, so I could be wrong, but from what you’ve explained, it seems most likely. The point is that your mom leaving is not your fault, even though you might believe it is. That belief is valid, but blaming- or even shaming- yourself for her absence in your life is putting responsibility on you that is not yours to take.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah, it does.”

Virgil hesitated before bringing up what he was going to say next. 

“I think I want to call her,” he admitted. 

Picani shifted, “Why?” 

Virgil looked at the doctor. His face seemed sincere in his question. 

Virgil sighed, “I’m- I don't know. It's just. I think she loves me. And I know I love her. I think it was just too hard.”

“What if you call her and she tells you she hates you?” Picani asked. 

“Wow that sounds great Doc. I would love that,” Virgil bit out. 

Picani sighed, “Here's the thing Virgil. I'm not against you calling your mom if that's what you want to do. I'm just asking what you're looking for from the conversation.”

Virgil hesitated, thinking. He started to clench his fist, nails digging into the skin. Trixie shifted to put her face in his lap. Virgil relaxed his hands and started petting her instead. 

“I guess,” Virgil started, “I guess I just want to hear from her, whatever it is. I feel like I need closure and I feel like the only way I can get that by talking to her.”

“And if she doesn't respond? Or screams at you and tells you horrible things?”

“Well if she doesn't respond that's closure enough I guess. It's some sort of response still. Same with the screaming. I just feel like I need something.”

“That makes sense,” Picani validated, “Closure is a very important process of trauma recovery. But I also have to ask; what if it goes well?”

“What?” Virgil had to ask, because wasn’t that a good thing? Wasn’t that what he wanted to happen?

“I mean- what if the call goes really well and she tells you that she loves you and it was all a mistake.”

“Well then we’d probably talk more?” Virgil suggested.

“Okay, and then what? Virgil- your mom hurt you and her apologizing might not make things better. Do you realize that?”

Virgil stopped. Had he?

“I think- Yeah I think I get it,” he confirmed, “I’m- I’m not doing this to have a relationship with her. I mean if a healthy one comes out of all of this, that's great, but I mean- I’m doing this whole thing for me. Because it’s what I think I need.

Picani nodded and tapped his chin. 

“Well,” he said slowly, drawing the ‘l’ out, “If you think you're mentally in place to make that call,” Picani shrugged, “I’m not going to discourage it.”

-

January 17, 2019

Virgil got the number from his dad. Or the last number that he had known. His parents hadn't talked in years either, who knew if it would work. Virgil typed it into his phone regardless considering it was the only thing he had to go off of so he might as well try it.

He breathed in and hit call. 

One ring. 

Breathe. 

Two rings. 

Breathe. 

Three rings. 

Br-

“Hello?” a voice asked from the other side of the line. 

Holy shit holy shit holy shit she answered that was her that was her voice he remembered it that was her. 

“Hello?” she asked again. 

“Hi,” Virgil spoke out breathlessly. How was he supposed to do this? Did she know who he was? Should he hang up? What if she hung up? What was his plan? He had a plan, right? What was it? Why couldn’t he remember it? 

Trixie whined and nudged him with her nose. He tried to take a breath.

“Hello? Who is this?” the voice asked. 

“Uh, hi, Mom, it's Virgil.”

“Virgil?” she whispered. 

Virgil took a step back, crashing into the couch. He sat down on it. She said his name. She said his name. Trixie clamored on top of him.

“Yeah,” he answered. 

“How did you get my number?” she asked. 

“Uh I- uh from Dad. I've been uh- doing a thing in therapy? And realized some things and wanted to call you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Uh do you have time to talk? Do you want to talk?”

“Um okay. Yeah I can talk. That sounds good actually.”

“Yeah?” Virgil asked, more than a little surprised. 

“Yeah,” she said.

Both went quiet. 

“Uh, how have you been?” she asked. 

Virgil stuttered over his words, “Oh, uh, I mean. Good? I guess?”

“Oh. Oh that's good.”

“Yeah. I'm in college.”

“You are?” Virgil thought she sounded surprised. Which honestly, the surprise was well deserved, he was still surprised he had managed to make it this far himself. (Sometimes he was still surprised that he was even still alive). His free hand went to unconsciously rub across a large scar on his arm. (But that was the past. He didn’t want to die anymore).

“Yeah. I’m at school in Florida.”

“Oh. Oh. I live in Florida too actually.”

“Uh. Cool.”

“Yeah. Uhm, you mentioned you were in uh therapy?”

“Yeah. I er, I was in therapy until I went off to college and I recently restarted again.”

“Right. Um, why did you start going back?” she asked. 

Virgil shrugged, “Uh just recent stuff. Uhm. They caught Matthew Waters. He's the one who-”

“I know who he is.”

“Right well they caught him. I'm uh going to testify against him. Uhm and it was y’know, a lot to bring back up. So I've been going back to therapy.”

“Right.”

They both went quiet for a minute. Virgil shifted the phone to the other ear.

“Uh Mom, why did you leave us?”

The other side didn't answer. 

“Mom?”

He heard a choked breath. 

“Oh Virgil,” she breathed out, “I couldn't- I couldn't handle it. And I know that's not fair to you and it probably hurt and-”

“It's okay,” Virgil said, even though it really wasn’t okay, “I mean it hurt a lot. And I've always thought that it was my fault. But I get that it was a lot. It was a lot for me too.”

“Virgil,” she whispered, “honey you were just so broken and I didn't know what to do. But you seem so much better now.”

“I mean. I'm still fucked up,” Virgil said with a laugh, “tremendously. But I know how to deal with it now.”

“That's great.”

“Yeah,” he paused and then blurted out the question he had been wondering since he was a child, “Mom, if I hadn't been kidnapped, would you still would of left dad and me?”

She hesitated.

That was all Virgil needed.

“Okay,” he said, nodding on his end. He started to cry, “Okay, Mom, I think I'm going to hang up now. But I might call back. Is that okay?”

“Oh Virgil, I just meant, you were so broken and I couldn't-”

“Right you couldn't.” His tone was a bit more biting then he meant, but he couldn’t argue that it wasn’t well deserved.

She sighed.

“Yes,” she told him, “Yes of course you can call me again. I hope you do.”

“Bye.”

“Bye, Virgil.”

-

January 20, 2019

“Hey Logan, can we talk?” Virgil asked. 

The boy looked up at Virgil, and turned his head slightly. 

“Me?” he asked. 

“Yeah you,” Virgil said with a grin, “Wanna go for a walk?”

Logan shrugged, “Sure.”

The two exited the apartment, Virgil making sure to shove on his hoodie and get Trixie into her vest. 

“What’s going on?” Logan asked when they got on the street. 

“Well- I- You- I just-” Virgil stammered.

“Virgil, breathe,” Logan reminded. He looked especially nice tonight, his slightly tan skin glowing in the moonlight.

Virgil nodded and took a deep breath in, held it, and then slowly exhaled. 4, 7, 8. He knew this.

“Okay,” Virgil said with a shake of his shoulders, “Uh, this is a kinda personal question so…”

“Personal for who?” Logan questioned.

“You?” Virgil said, voice hesitant.

“Go ahead,” Logan offered. 

“Right. Well. So I called my mom. She left me and my dad when I was in recovery after I was found. I haven't talked to her since. And she pretty much confirmed that she left us since I was too much too handle after all the trauma I went through.”

Logan nodded.

“So- I- just. I know you've had a rough relationship with your parents. Uh, with them wanting you to be ‘normal’ or whatever. And them putting you in therapy to ‘fix’ you or whatever. I just- I dunno- uh. What was that like? Like how do you have a relationship after all of that?”

Logan continued walking and didn't say anything. After a minute of this, Virgil spoke up. 

“Logan?” Virgil asked. 

Logan grunted. 

Virgil went quiet. 

Logan took another minute of silence. 

“You're right. This is very personal.”

“Yes- I- I'm sorry- I shouldn't of-”

“Stop talking.”

Virgil went quiet and shoved his hands in his pockets, hanging his head. The two of them continued to walk onwards. Logan started to hum quietly. 

“Virgil,” he said after a moment, “would you please apply pressure to me.”

“Uh like a hug? A pressure stim?”

“Yes. Please.”

“Sure. You want to sit down? I can get Trix to help too that way.”

Logan nodded and sat down on the sidewalk. Virgil slowly wrapped his arms firmly around Logan, holding him tightly, as he directed Trixie onto his lap. 

They say there for a good while. Logan humming softly all the while. His hands came up to his ears and Virgil realized that Logan had not brought his familiar headphones with him. Virgil took his own off from around his neck and placed them on the taller boy. They may not as be as noise-cancelling as Logan's but hopefully they would help to some degree. Logan didn't try to push them off at least. Virgil took that as a sign that they could stay. Eventually Logan stopped humming and his body released its tension. 

“Thank you Virgil,” he eventually said, “I appreciate the pressure you and Trixie provided. I would appreciate your assistance in getting up,” Logan said stiffly. 

“Logan- I’m sorry- I didn't mean to- I know that it's a sensitive topic-”

“Please Virgil,” Logan insisted softly, voice barely above a whisper, “I would just like to go home now. Please.”

“Right. Uh sorry.”

God, Virgil had fucked up hadn’t he? He shouldn’t of asked Logan. He knew that Logan’s relationship with his parents was rocky at the best of times and he knew Logan still internalized a lot of feelings of inadequacy in relation to them. But Virgil just had to have brought it up, hadn’t he?

Logan clenched his fists and his eyes shut tightly. 

“I need you to stop talking,” he hissed. 

Virgil just nodded vigorously. The two turned around and started their walk back to their apartment in silence. 

When they were about five minutes away, Logan spoke up once again.

“Virgil,” he said, “I’m feeling… a lot right now. And I'm not really sure how to handle it. It is not your fault, okay?”

“Yeah Logan, I get it. A bit overwhelmed huh?” And Virgil did know. He did. He knew it wasn’t his fault. He still couldn’t help but feel guilty.

“A bit overwhelmed,” Logan said with a frown. Virgil wasn’t sure if he was agreeing with or challenging the statement.

-

When they returned to the apartment Logan went straight towards the bedroom he shared with Patton, closing the door quickly behind him. Patton and Roman both looked up at Virgil from their places in the living room, eyebrows raised. 

“He had a shutdown,” Virgil explained, “I asked him a bit about some things. I think he brought up a lot of emotions for him and he's having a bit of trouble sorting through them and feeling them.”

Patton nodded, walked over and offered a hug. Virgil took it gratefully. When the younger man broke the embrace, the older scrambled away to assist his boyfriend. Virgil moved to join Roman. 

“I feel bad,” Virgil admitted when he joined his friend. 

“You shouldn't,” Roman said, focusing on a book, “You know this happens sometimes. It's just part of Logan. He’ll be okay.”

“I know, but I brought up a sensitive subject and-”

“Virgil,” Roman cut in, “I care about you, I really do. But you need to stop blaming yourself for things that aren't your responsibility. Not only does it hurt you. It hurts the others around you. I care about you, but I can't always be here to comfort you.”

Virgil swallowed harshly. 

“Right,” he muttered, exiting the room in a scramble, “You’re right. I just get in everyone’s way.”

“That's not what I meant,” Roman said with a sigh, but Virgil didn't stick around to hear the rest. 

He darted into his room, Trixie fast on his heels. He sat heavily on his bed, vision blurring. Trixie whined and nudged him. Oh my god his friends hated him. He was too much trouble. He was way too much trouble. No one liked him. He was always in the way. Worthless. Useless. Pointless. No one cared about him. And- something was pawing at him. What no? He was alone. Alone like always because no one cared and- Nope something was definitely pawing at him. What? Oh oh Trixie. 

Breathe Virgil, come on you're having a panic attack, Trixie is alerting you. Lay on the floor. Lay on the floor. They're you go. Trixie on top, providing pressure. DPT. Just breathe. Inhale for four. Hold for seven. Out for eight. Again. You got this. 

You got this. 

You got this.

Just breathe.

[tgwtgrumours-blog]

oh boy.....

I don’t know, you don’t post for 6 years and the whole fandom explodes.....

 So, I saw my name dropped on kiwi farms (I’ve been a Cwc lurker since Bluespike, yes, I’m old,) I decided that I probably should post with everything going on. 

I had resigned some time ago that I had put my days of internet detectivering (A word I made up) behind me, but I guess I gotta dust off my keyboard.

Who am I:

Ok, I was a fan of the tgwtg crew, a huge fan and I’ve always been strong with google-FYI so I thought I’d use my powers for good.  At the time tgwtg was pretty big and there were a lot of rumours going about, and being the kind of person who is #foreverlurking on sites like SA, the chans, ED, tvtropes, etc,  I was seeing a lot of shit talk about contributors who I liked.  I also saw that Rants who used to run (not sure if they still do) the tgwtg secrets tumblr was getting a lot of stuff at the time about various rumours going around, and Rants didn’t have the information to respond to them.

I thought I would provide my services as a sort of neutral  party who would purely answer this stuff factually and maybe try to stop lies being spread throughout the internet. I think my most significant post was about JesuOtaku, then Hope, now Jacob.

There had been rumours for a long time about homophobia on JO’s part, and I did some extensive research for that one.  On a hard drive I still have the hundreds of screenshots I made of literally every forum post in which JO had said something shitty.  I delved very deeply and spoke to people who knew JO IRL, they said that they felt JO was a nice person who had never been mean or nasty to them.  I concluded that while JO was younger he had made some shitty posts but had since become a better person.  Hence the rumour was technically true, but JO had reformed his opinion. Of course that was before all the stuff with Nash, so..... yeah.

Why did I stop posting:

There were a number of reasons.  I’ve always suffered with mental health issues, namely depression, ocd and ptsd, and that makes me erratic at times about commitments, which was a small part of it.

The other reason was largely to do with a video called “things tgwtg fans say” -this was made by mostly chez apocalypse people and there were two things which began to sit very badly with me in that video. 

The first one was, I believe Elisa, saying “I’m worried about spoony” - this was PRE Spoony meltdown, and I myself was one of the fans concerned about his mental health issues and his erratic behaviour.  We all know how that ended, don’t we?

I didn’t like the idea of this video taking the piss out of fans was not just poking fun, there was genuine reason to be concerned about Spoony’s behaviour, as was proved shortly afterwards. I don’t know who made the decision to include that line, but it made me feel very uncomfortable. 

The second was Kyle aka Oan Citizen saying “I hate Rants!”  Everyone thought that it meant Rants as in ranting, but after Rants of the tgwtg secrets tumblr had said they liked the video, Kyle went out of his way to let Rants know that line was directed at them personally. Kyle didn’t think this was inappropriate at all until Hagan told him off and he apologised and the video was edited to cut that line.

‘Shortly after Kyle’s apology was added to his ‘crowning moment of heartwarming’ section on tvtropes. I couldn’t help but think, “these guys make videos on the internet and get money for watches and they’re openly insulting the people who watch their videos to their faces.”

That made me feel sick to my stomach. 

It STILL makes me eel sick to my stomach 6 years later.  

Kyle had also tweeted (then deleted before I got a chance to screenshot) a tweet saying “I just want some people to know I hate them. Deeply.” This was aimed at Rants.

Rants ran a blog where people made posts about people saying they fancied this producer or thought that producer was cute - so yeah, I didn’t like this.

Then.... ugh...  I’m sorry, I started getting messages about Jew Wario.

I have various screenshots I will share, but can’t share some for various reasons, mostly I’m not at home right now, I’m on holiday abroad, and I’m posting on my iPad. I’m having a holiday because my Dad died last month from a long battle with brain cancer so I need to chill, y’all.

The stuff I was getting was really disturbing so I’m just going to post the one screen cap of me asking Rants if they’d been getting anything, though I erroneously refer to his victim as his girlfriend for some reason, I think I’d thought they were dating. When I get home I’ll go through all my archive and see what else I have saved.

 It put me off the fandom in a big way, I decided to take a break, which turned into a complete hiatus. I was scared of the information. I was just a girl, sitting in her room, watching videos about bad movies, then suddenly I was being told about crimes and fans were being attacked. 

I didn’t want to be a part of it and I ran away. 

I was a coward. 

I was much younger, more naive, and didn’t possess the social skills to be able to deal with it or process it properly. 

I’m sorry. 

I’m so sorry. 

I feel that I have a proportional piece of blame, but after Justin’s suicide I felt the issue was over, in a Jimmy Saville way and tried to move on. Even though I no longer visited tgwtg/channel awesome any longer, I felt intense guilt for years and that is part of the reason I stopped posting. 

Again, I’m sorry. 

During my tenure as internet detective I had the opportunity to speak with several producers, Lupa, Brad, Linkara, Holly and others, everyone who I spoke to personally was friendly and helpful and generally really lovely people. 

I didn’t start the blog to upset anyone, I just wanted to be a small part of something that I enjoyed immensely as a fan and the only talent I had was the ability to read through 149 forum pages in one night and make sense of it all.

I should have spoken up, and I can’t take that back now, but I hope I can find a way to make it up to the people my silence hurt.

Elf xoxo

[tiredstarryeyes]

2011

This is incredibly long overdue. I’ve been meaning to post this for a while now, but fear has always stopped me. It’s a relief to finally feel and hear my voice, regardless if it’s only in written form. Warning: Mention of DV, suicidal thoughts, and depression. 

When I was 18, I had a roommate that was in a physically violent relationship. I heard, and at times witnessed these acts, for roughly a year and a half.

I had just moved to Sydney to start my journey as an Actor, and I was scared shitless, broke as hell, and so naive it was pathetic. After a mere few weeks, I was all of sudden thrown into the deep end of adulthood, and faced with the choice of standing up for myself and this victim. It really didn’t hit me at first. The weight of what was really going on. It’s a part of my life that I’ve not talked about, a trauma that eventually chipped away at my psyche, and turned my mental state into mush. It’s safe to say because of this, I now have a love-hate relationship with my past, as it’s something that I will always be in therapy for, but I’m not ashamed to admit the struggle. I’m not the only one in this world who has been through something like this, and definitely not the only one who has been through depression and trauma.

The reason I stayed, was because coming home and starting again, would mean that I had failed. My biggest fear in life. I had planned to move out of home since I was 15. Worked at a crappy part time job for over 3 years and saved every penny I made. People at the bank knew me by my first name, praising me for being so diligent with my money. I auditioned for a school and got in, so did my best friend at the time with hers, respectively. Everything about the plan was put into motion, and then here we were, ready to start our new lives. Thinking back on it, I was just young and dumb and selfish, yet understandably, I was also in shock. Having been so isolated and protected from the harsh realities of the world, then immediately faced with this type of responsibility, I simply could not cope. I’m ashamed to admit I sat in mostly stunned silence until it was over, then just went to sleep. I remember everyone waking up the next morning, exchanging awkward small talk, ignoring the bruises, and pretending nothing had happened. The repercussions of telling my family, and sticking up for myself and this girl all at once, stuffing up my best friends plans as well, was seemingly too much to bare. I had no experience in the latter, so I drowned within the uncertainty of it all. I think I was in denial as well, but I really had no idea what to do, so I simply did nothing.

Sadly, because of this, all good memories of my first apartment, my early 20’s, and living out of home for the first time, are tainted with sounds of screams. 

Before I sound like more of a wet blanket, I know that everything happens for a reason, and I’ve made this part of my journey the reason for my strength and resilience, and that’s something to be proud of. 

As they they say with trauma, the mind may forget, but the body doesn’t. The PTSD, PTD, anxiety, depression, and emotional triggers that came from this experience, didn’t just go away once I left. Doors were slammed in my face, things were thrown, people were slapped and beaten, furniture was pulled to pieces. It took five years to talk about it without crying, and I still do to this day at times. It’s a trigger for so many things, and I still feel guilty over it. I think I always will to an extent, and I’ve had to work really hard to be at peace with that. If it had affected me this badly to just see and hear it, I can’t imagine what internal struggle and pain was inflicted to the person at the other end of those fists. The aftermath seamed worse than the actual event, and that was a hard thing to accept. I walked around angry for too many years. Too much time wasted hating the world for what was happening to her, how I couldn’t just get over it once I finally bit the bullet and crawled back home. Rather than enjoying my life, like so many people told me to do, I know I let the experience, and my reaction to it, rob those years from me. 

I eventually did call the police after a few months, though.

I asked her one morning if she was scared. She said yes. So I kept going with the questions. I asked her if she wanted it to be over. She said yes. I asked her if she wanted to leave this person. She said yes. I asked her if she was afraid. She said yes. I asked her how long it had been happening. It was way longer than I expected or could wrap my head around. I told her that I had heard everything and that I was scared too. She said she was sorry and we both hugged and cried and fell to the floor. I’ll never forget that moment. Two bits of broken pieces finding each other on dirty carpet. A mess of feelings. Both numb and drained at the environment we were in, feeling stuck and desperate to get out. I made a pact with her and told her to scream for me next time things got heated, and when she did, I ran in and got her just as I had promised. We waited in the dark and I called the police. A few weeks passed, and we went to court. I was standing there in front of the double doors, ready to go in, my scripts clutched to my chest for the acting class I’d have to attend afterwards, (because I moved to Sydney to become an Actor, and a court hearing wasn’t going to stop me. That was my thinking process while in the midst of losing my god damn mind, naturally.) standing there willing to testify for what was right, was one of the scariest moments of my life, staring at the judge in the court room, full of other people who didn't give a shit if I was having a meltdown or not, including the police officers, though are we surprised?  

Then, sadly, nothing really came of it. Except my $30 check for making an appearance. The officer then gave me their business card and told me to send them an email if I needed anything. Like a fucking email was going to stop someone from getting beaten up? But lol ok you do you boo.

Relationships like that are messy and complicated and don’t make sense unless you’re in it. I get it now in retrospect, as I’ve put up with bad behaviour and my fair share of narcissism from men, so I get how hard it is to break things off. 

Boy, do I get it. 

I’ve spent the last 9 years of my life putting myself through therapy because of what I didn’t do, because I didn’t reach out, living in fear. When I couldn’t stop ruminating over the guilt and self loathing and self pity of not making better choices, not feeling I was smart enough, good enough, worthy enough of anything in life because I let this happen. 

One night, thinking about what happened in that room, I drank too much wine, blacked out, and told my doctor I wanted to go on antidepressants the following morning. I was sick and tired of not feeling like these thoughts were coming from my own brain. It didn’t feel like mine and I didn’t feel like me. I was on them for 8 months.

I can’t deny I’ve never thought about not being here either. What this world, my family, or what my friends would do if I were suddenly no longer here, had started to cross my mind a lot in those days. I don’t have those thoughts anymore, but I have had them clear as day, and it has to be said.

I remember the moment it felt like my thoughts were finally back to how they were before it all happened. That moment in the movie when the character is called too adventure, before it all goes to shit? That alive, happy person full of hope and ambition. I wanted to be her again, and I finally started to recognise the old me in this moment. 

I remember breaking down in the shower at the gym, during the fourth day of taking Citalopram. Sobbing happy tears because I finally recognised this thing in my head that was making me think and navigate my consciousness again. Like I had woken up from a bad dream. I literally felt the imbalance of chemicals changing over in my brain, re-wiring itself so I could finally function again. 

This memory, is why I am who I am, and I wear my mental illness that at times seams non existent, but at other times is emotionally and physically debilitating, really fucking proudly, and everyone else can as well. Apparently 1 in 7 people in Australia suffer from depression sometime in their life, so this is not a rare occurrence, just a rare conversation topic to be had because of the stigma against mental illness. 

It’s 2020. Let’s change that. 

I write this because these dark parts are the realest, rawest bits of myself that I relate too more than anything else. They give me strength and drive and motivate me to always do better for my past self who hated herself too much. 

Also, not a lot of people may fully understand the fact that I have depression and anxiety, without really knowing the extent, nor how it came about. I guess it’s because I lost my younger years to this very rough and draining experience, so I think I’ll always appear young at heart and seam more innocent and plain than I actually am, as I’ll always feel like I need to make up for all that lost time. Watching everyone else live through their early 20′s so positively. Because I never did, and this may possibly be my anxiety talking, it may affect how people perceive me. In the Acting world, seaming younger than I am has worked to my advantage, but in reality, people may misunderstand and judge me for it, too. I just hope this post will help make people understand why I have not had certain experiences, and to not judge other people if they have been through the same. There is always more to a person. To sound cheesy as fuck, we are all just the tips of the Icebergs above the water, and you may never know what's been endured beneath the surface of someone, or why they are only showing you certain parts of themselves because there’s not a simple answer for it, and that’s not a bad thing. They are not lazy, boring, or inexperienced. I am not an open book, and I don’t care if you can’t find the patience to try and understand why. 

Depression, to me, feels like this:

It’s like a dark storm cloud that follows you over your shoulders everyday. I can’t sense it on the good days. But, when it’s there, I struggle to see through the fog and it’s like I’m suffocating or choking. When it’s triggered and starts to rumble, all of a sudden you can feel it tingling down your spine. It’s similar to a foreboding like feeling that is all encompassing and knocks you around, mentally and physically. It’s like a presence that gets more difficult and heavy the longer I ignore it. I usually have an inkling that something has been triggered, even if it’s not obvious right away, and I soon come to know that I have some work to do for myself over the following weeks when I have this certain feeling.

If I don’t have the time to reflect however, (in my case, I was filming for my first TV show a few months ago, and didn’t want to focus on anything but the work, and boy did I pay for it afterwards) the storm always becomes louder and I become more lethargic or more sensitive or angry, and it feels like my limbs are constantly dragging me towards the ground. I’m exhausted when I wake up because my anxiety hits me at night and I can’t sleep. And then the cycle repeats itself and I am, a mess. It can be a very temperamental thing when you’re out of your routine. It’s also hard sometimes to differentiate between having off days and feeling down, which is fine, but then if I’m waking up and realising it’s been a week and I can’t stop crying, that’s a warning sign I’m on the precipice of an episode. I know then that this is the beginning of just a bad few weeks, and I need to figure out how to get out of this dark place in my mind. 

The last few months, it’s been my anxiety that’s gone and unsettled me to my core, and after a few sessions of therapy, some Valium, keeping my boundaries up, I’ve mentally been able to reset myself, and can look at life more clearly for what it is. 

This year has been stressful for the entire planet, but I think it was probably a mixture of self doubt, paranoia, staring at the age of 30, maybe, and feeling more isolated than I actually am because of covid. Many reasons I’m sure I’ll figure out later, but I stopped crying a few weeks ago, and don’t feel down anymore, so it’s going to be a good month rather than a hectic one. There’s also a lot to look forward to as well now, and positive thinking is feeling less like a chore. (You know you’re out of the storm when feeling happy ain’t draining! Am I right!)

One thing that has helped is the BLM movement here in Aus, and connecting more to my heritage. Unpacking my childhood in relation to that is going to take a bit more strength, but I know more about my people at this point in my life then I ever have before, and it’s helped shaped my identity and made me feel more closer to myself. I know now, it may always feel like there are missing links to an eternal puzzle that may never be completely put together, or understood. But, I know that's not my fault. It’s because of what this country did to my people. Their voices were taken, their lives erased and destroyed, and thus, were not given to me to learn about and pass on like other generations had the privilege of doing. 

I feel like we are louder and stronger than ever before, but that’s probably because we have had no choice and have never given up. 

At times, all I can do is read about them online, listen to my friends stories who have lived with culture around them, watch our movies, read our books, and feel something I cannot name. That’s not to say I have not experienced racism. I have, and do and always will, and I already feel fear for my future children because it is inevitable. But, I find comfort from the fact that I know this essence of myself has been, and is always going to be there inside me to help make me strong. No matter who I am or what I become, my Aboriginal identity will always be something I can treasure and protect and claim no matter what someone may think of me. I can talk to my ancestors however I want, defend my people whenever I want, because it is no one else’s journey but my own.

[letterstochristopher]

Letters to Chris. May 5th. Day 27

Hey Buddy,

I survived my first week back in my “normal” life. It was a long, difficult week and I’m glad it’s over. I did okay for the most part. I only cried at work once. My poor boss. I felt it coming on and didn’t want to leave the front desk unattended, so instead of running to the bathroom I ran to his office and told him I needed a minute. Poor dude wasn’t quite sure what to do. He told me to take all the time I needed, said he’d get me some water if we had any, ran out and sent my sweet coworker in to console me. I’m sure as a man nothing is worse than getting cornered in a tiny office by a sobbing woman. But I’m doing the best I can. And while I did get in a bit of trouble because I was late two days, I actually was pretty productive. I was able to laugh, to joke around with patients and get shit done. I’m honestly amazed. And I had very few ditzy moments. My brain isn’t working like it should so I figured I’d be in a nonstop fog. I always joke about being in a constant state of confusion (you know this…you’ve been known to tease me about it), so I’m relieved it hasn’t gotten worse (or maybe I’m in denial and people are too nice to point it out). I’m beyond thankful for my coworkers. They have been rocks through it all. One of them had a close friend who committed suicide a few years back, so she’s been here. And one of our patients just lost her sister so we shared about you two. The similarities were odd. Her sister was 25 as well, and passed only four days before you. It felt good to talk to someone else who has just lost a sibling. I would never wish this suffering on my worst enemy, but a huge part of me is so grateful that I’m not alone. 

Nights are the hardest now. I think because I try to keep my shit together during the entire day, I’m emotionally and mentally exhausted by the time I get home. And I miss you so much while at work. I’ve been used to spending all day with you in my thoughts, and obviously I just can’t do that while working. So during lunch break I’ll look at your pictures, or talk to you when we have quiet moments (in my head..I can’t let people think I’m losing it by talking to myself). Surprisingly, yesterday was my best day yet. I still cried, but it wasn’t until I went to bed. I had to get up and go to the kitchen so I wouldn’t wake Clay (not that he would have cared, but I haven’t been the most awesome bed buddy lately and didn’t want to keep him awake another night. He’s been so tired all week). I honestly wasn’t sure how I felt about not crying until so late. I felt guilty, like I was a bad sister for holding it together so well. It wasn’t that it hurt any less. I guess maybe I’m starting to get used to this constant ache..feeling this hole in my chest. It’s not like it goes away. No matter what I’m doing, even when I’m joking around and laughing, it’s still there lurking. Almost like it’s waiting to pounce. I read somewhere how at first the waves that hit you are 100 feet tall and back to back while you cling to this wreckage that was once a beautiful ship. Over time, the waves, while still 100 feet tall, become more spaced apart. And in those spaces is life. I think maybe that’s where I am right now. I’m still clinging to this wreckage like my life depends on it. I’m still fighting the urge to allow myself to drown whenever the waves hit. But in between, I can laugh. I can look at your pictures and not cry. I can almost see my old self coming out. I think this is the way the rest of my life will be. I’ll be okay one minute, but something will be a trigger and I’ll lose it. Something as simple as smelling your cologne somewhere, or someone talking about the National Guard or firefighting. Right now it’s anything. Or nothing. I’ll just be standing there not doing anything and it will hit.

The night before last, I went through all your pictures you uploaded on Facebook, taking screenshots of them so they are all on my phone. I had no idea you had a goatee at one point in time. I wish I had…I would have given you so much grief :) Like, dude, what’s that on your chin?? I love the facial hair you had the last few months. I’d never really seen you with any. I remember when you were 14-15 and you had that patchy scruff you were so proud to shave (must be a right of passage as a young man). I couldn’t believe you were having to shave. But now you have a full fledged beard. Or did. You know what I mean. But it suited you. 

My handsome boy.

Something new I’m noticing is my anger. Not just at you, but at anyone who irritates me. I noticed it a bit in Missouri, but it’s gotten worse. I raised my voice at an employee at Costco today when asking if they were out of coconut milk. He didn’t believe me when I said they usually carried it, saying he had never seen it and he always stocked the dairy aisle. I tried to explain it isn’t ever with the dairy and I literally buy it every week, but he kept trying to run away before I could explain. Finally I just snapped and yelled that he was acting like I was crazy but I knew what I was talking about. Something like that wouldn’t have bothered me to that extent a month ago. People around probably thought I was simply super passionate about coconut milk. It’s not like you can explain to everyone why you’re having a minor meltdown. The guy WAS being a dick, but I should have let it go. I just feel like the general public sucks right now. People are so self involved, worrying about all their petty little problems. I desperately want to yell at everyone, “Oh yeah? Your mother-in-law is visiting? You have to work late? You’re worried about bills? Boohoo. My brother just killed himself. Go f*ck yourself.“ 

Obviously this isn’t the best attitude to have. But it’s so hard not to resent people at the moment. And I know that everyone’s issues are valid. And I know that anger is normal right now. But this isn’t me in the slightest, and I hate feeling this way. So one of my goals tonight is to find a therapist who specializes in bereavement counseling. Before I make an even bigger scene over another unstocked grocery item. Or Clay locks me out of our apartment.

It’s also difficult to not get irritated with people who have things going awesome for them. I’m not talking about friends or family. I mean strangers. For whatever reason, strangers seem the safest people to hate right now. So I’ll overhear someone talking about their awesome vacation they just got back from (”OMG Paris was AMAZING!!) or how they are buying a new house, and I want to throw things at their face. And I hate that. Because, like I said, this is so not me. Clay reminded me that I have no idea what’s going on in people’s lives. Maybe they are going through the same thing as our family. He stepped on dangerous territory by asking if he just shouldn’t point out when I am being negative. Yeah, probably not. Definitely not the wisest thing at the moment. I know I can be an a**hole right now. I’m working on it. It’s a stage of grief and I know I need to get through it. I don’t want to be a ball of fury for the rest of my life.

Speaking of anger, after Costco I went out to my car and another wave hit, and I started yelling at you. I haven’t done that yet. Not like that. Anyone who walked by my car would have thought I was crazy. But it felt so good to yell at you. Because it’s you that I’m really angry at. I screamed at you for leaving us, that we f*cking told you things would get better, and that I’m absolutely devastated that you didn’t text me goodbye. Yes, I’m still stuck on that. I was always the one you listened to. Mom would ask me to talk to you about things because you actually listened to me. We always had that relationship our whole lives. But you didn’t tell me goodbye. I’m grateful you texted Mom, but why not your sisters?? I just can’t let that go. My phone had been right in front of me that night. Perhaps me begging you to live wouldn’t have changed anything. I know any therapist would say it wouldn’t have made a difference. But at least I could have told you how much I loved you. You would have died knowing I needed you and loved you and would have taken your place in a second. I would have told you I’d be flying out to see you that very night. Or beg you to come stay with us for a while. I would have told you that my life would be meaningless without you and that if you died I would die, too. That our family would be devastated, left picking up the pieces and never able to get closure. But you denied me that. So I’m angry. More than that. I’m p*ssed. And I hate how much our family hurts. Mom called a couple days ago and I could tell she'd been crying. She said she washed the rest of your laundry which took all day. And she cried and cried. Nikea has had a few difficult days this week. And while Dad is more the suffer in silence type, I know this is hell for him, too. We all know you never meant to hurt us, but it doesn't make it any easier. 

Yet I know you understand my anger, and love me regardless. You knew I needed to scream at you. And honestly, I’ll probably do it again. I apologized because I hate yelling at you, even though you probably deserve it right now. But I have this feeling you understand everything way better than any of us can on this side of Heaven. You’re way wiser than we are. You understand how we feel. You know what you put us through. I can’t explain how weird it is to realize you now know things that we cannot begin to comprehend. Nikea has always been the smartest of us four kids, but now you’re the wisest. If you were here now, I’m sure you’d gloat about how you know all the secrets of the universe.

Know what I miss most? Family dinners. Dad always making weird Dad jokes that still made us laugh, Bethany enjoying her food so much she’d look like she was falling asleep or in a trance. I know some kids don’t like being forced to eat dinner with their parents, but I’ve always loved it. It gave us a chance to connect, without our cell phones (which you were always on..ahem)…like really connect as a family. Then we’d always help clean the table afterwards while Dad rinsed the dishes. God I miss that. I always meant to record those conversations because you never quite knew what anyone was going to say. Nikea was saying how you teased her during dinner last time you were home because she was drinking Pepsi. Since you worked for Coke, you pretended it was a great betrayal. 

God, I’d give anything to have been at that table.

I’m so frustrated because I still can’t pull any specific memories from recent years. I understand this is caused by grief. You know I’m the one who remembers the most random stuff, so it’s beyond heartbreaking that I can’t get my brain to work. It’s like this stupid mental block that just refuses to lift. It’s funny how you don’t realize how you’re going to react to grief until it hits. I know it’ll pass and the memories will come flooding back…I just wish I knew when.

Of course I remember things from years ago. Your first car, a Ford Taurus that you loved to work on. The muffler was nonexistent so we always knew when you were pulling up to the house. You were so proud to show me the alterations you made in that car. And remember when you hit that curb and jacked it up? I felt so awful for you. Then I remember when you were super little and grabbed one of my many "Titanic” books and threw it at me laughing. You ripped Leo’s face in half and I yelled at you and made you cry (I’m sorry). I remember how you’d always eat Mom and Dad out of house and home but never gain any weight. I remember road trips to Grandma and Grandpa’s, yearly visits to TanTarA. Key West. I’m still not recalling as many memories as I normally would, but like I said, I know this will pass. I just don’t want the strongest memories to be of your last few months when you were so distraught. I still go back and read your texts, even though they break my heart, just because they are you. And Katrina sent me some voicemails you had left her. I wasn’t sure if I could bear to listen to them, but I was able to. I miss your voice so much, so it helps to hear it even if your words weren’t directed at me.

I took the dogs on a walk tonight. I was grateful for the weather. It was beautiful out. The sun was setting behind the mountains which were all these different shades of deep blue. I was walking on this path I hadn’t known existed before near our apartment. This field of white cattails caught the sun, glowing bright white. I stopped on this old bridge and watched the sun set. It looked like Heaven. Your Heaven. I know you loved the mountains (you were so excited to see them in Montana and when you visited Colorado a couple years back), so I feel so close to you when I look at them. I felt your presence. It was so strong I felt like I could touch you. I’ve felt it before, but it has been getting stronger the brief seconds I’m able to experience it. I’ve read of people experiencing the same thing with departed loved ones, and it’s so encouraging. Like I’ve said before, those brief moments when you reach out get me through.

Anywho, Buddy…I love you and miss you. Clay grilled some steaks for us (hey remember how you cooked me steak that one day when Carter was brand new? It was DELICIOUS. First time I’d ever had your cooking and I was so proud), so I better get going. He’s been waiting patiently for me. But again, I LOVE you and I MISS you so damn much. Talk to you soon.

Your big sis.