#i can’t talk to anyone because my psychosis has been so bad i can’t trust anything

[the-fog-system]

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[actingwithportals]

Since we’re talking about the deplorable Portal movie again, I’m gonna drop my two cents into why this bothers me particularly, on a personal level, in what a Portal movie might do to the story. (Buckle in, this is a long post.)

(Also, for anyone who doesn’t know the “Portal Movie” has been in production hell for literal years and it feels pretty unlikely it will escape that anytime soon, if the movie does eventually get made at all, so this is a mostly theoretical discussion but one I think is important nonetheless.)

(Also also I’m going under the assumption of a Portal movie following the characters and story we already know from the games as opposed to giving us new characters and plot and just centering it around the concept of Portal. This is also theoretical and isn’t confirmed that that’s how an actual Portal movie would go.)

So, I think the objective biggest concern to have with what could possibly go grossly wrong with a Portal movie is the Hollywood need to whitewash characters of color, aka Chell in this instance. Plus how they might handle her muteness, how they would handle her as a woman protagonist, how they would handle GLaDOS as a woman antagonist, and the overall themes of Portal that ultimately centers around these two women characters who both experienced abuse, either from each other or from Aperture itself. But there are people who are more informed to speak on those issues than I am, so I’m gonna leave that to them and talk about something that I’ve got the experience to discuss instead.

My boy Doug Rattmann. (note: I’m schizophrenic.)

In the event of a Portal movie that follows the main storyline of the game(s), Rattmann isn’t likely to be a character we actually see (outside of potential flashbacks), but his presence would be made known because his presence and influence in Aperture are both very integral to the story and Chell’s ultimate success. It’s very likely he would get brought up, even if just by showing us his murals and referencing who he was in life and the role he played as an Aperture employee, and as the only person to survive GLaDOS’s attack that put the facility into the position Chell wakes to find it in.

And I don’t trust like that. I don’t trust that filmmakers with the motivation of fame and financial gain will take a character like Rattmann - a schizophrenic who throughout most of his relevance to the main story is unmedicated and in the midst of a very severe psychotic episode - and treat him with care and respect and sympathy.

We see how movies treat mentally ill people, especially those of us with “scary” illnesses like schizophrenia. We see how we’re constantly reduced to being “crazy and unhinged and morally dubious because the voices in our heads tell us to hurt people”. We see how we’re used as jokes, as villains, as “pathetic” fodder to get killed off for shallow sympathy and shock value, and you know what? I don’t anticipate Rattmann would get a much more nuanced approach from a JJ Abrams film than... that. It’s hard for me to imagine he would be presented to the audience as anything much more than the “crazy ps*cho” who survived because of his paranoia (because “a broken clock is still right two times a day”) and wrote some funny iconic line on the walls in his madness such as “the cake is a lie”. That’s what I fear we’d get, because I know that’s how most of the world sees us. Because that’s how people see me when they learn I’m schizophrenic.

The Lab Rat comic did something that’s rarely seen in a lot of mainstream media I think. It gave us a schizophrenic protagonist who we as the readers got to see both in a successful career - medicated and well and seemingly having an average life despite where he worked - and in the midst of what was a very frightening psychotic episode, because medication was not available to him and he had no other option but to let things progress to that point. And he was Still a hero. He was Still sympathetic. He was Still treated with respect and as someone we were meant to root for and connect with. His humanity wasn’t taken from him, and in fact it shone through clearly. Because psychotic people are still people even when we’re experiencing psychosis.

And, you know, let alone the fact that the comic didn’t drop him into the trope of becoming a violent or otherwise “evil” person when he was unmedicated. He retained the same morals he had when he was medicated - the paranoia didn’t take that away from him. I like to think that my paranoia doesn’t take that away from me too.

I just.. I don’t feel good at the thought of something so beautifully done, something that we almost never get, being reduced to bad tropes for the sake of suspense and theatrics and a good buck. I mean, it might not happen; I might just be critical and overthinking. But it usually does, and I’m usually not. There’s endless evidence in media to support this pattern, and I think it’s a valid concern to have.

I don’t think people can’t be excited about a Portal movie - I know that I would be over the moon if a Portal movie came out that did the source material justice. But people are going to have concerns due to the fact that many things in these games were done with a lot of nuance and care, and it’s hard to believe something like this could be repeated, especially when copied over to a new medium. I mean, as it was recently pointed out to me even Valve themselves dropped the ball by lightening Chell’s character model between P1 and P2. The source material itself still does have its faults despite its successes, so who’s to say people can’t be worried that a movie would do something equally egregious or worse?

Portal means a lot to me. It has for many years and it will continue to mean a lot to me for a long time to come. The validation I found in Rattmann’s character at the exact moment in my life when I needed it most is not something that just happens any day. So I’m going to be critical, I’m going to be skeptical. I’m happy for people who are excited, but please don’t tell me or others that we shouldn’t be concerned.

I’ve got this one really incredible schizophrenic rep that Portal Lab Rat gave us. I’m allowed to fear that getting taken away.

[necropolis144]

may i interest you in some hashira headcanons?

rengoku kyoujurou - first off, ftm. the man is trans. second, autistic. avoids eye contact? little to no volume-control? just the way he responds? yeah he’s autistic. he also loves cooking but he sucks at it! it makes him super happy when he finishes making a meal no matter how badly it turns out. he also gives off demisex/ro vibes! also he totally has a soft spot for people who have had to deal with shitty parents/guardians since he finds it easier to empathise with them.

shinobu kochou - she hates kids. she tries so hard with her tsuguko and the kids at the butterfly mansion and she wants to like kids but she just can’t. also, her favorite insects are not butterflies! she likes praying mantids, they’ve been her favorite since she found one in her house when she was super young. she’s also a lesbian, and like most of the hashira, she had a crush on mitsuri when she first showed up! now mitsuri is her biggest supporter in both her identity and her search for a girlfriend!

tomioka giyuu - he’s considered changing his name so many times it’s not even funny anymore. at the end of the series he does everything he can to learn to love himself. it starts small, “wow look at me go i straightened my futon” “i made myself breakfast, what a legend” and eventually he finds it much easier to casually make jokes about how “great” he is with a lot less sarcasm than he would before! everyone cheers him on and them caring about him helps a lot!

shinazugawa sanemi - sanemi likes to read! he doesn’t like super pretentious novels, but he enjoys ironically reading odd romance stories and unironically loves books on natural history! although he gets bored if they’re too easy or too hard to read, so he has to find ones with a good intermediate balance. and he’s never ever cried when he got too invested in the plot in the romance novels, never once *wink*

himejima gyomei - we all know he’z the dad friend, right? i feel like everyone has to agree on this. obviously oyakata-sama is the real “father figure” but himejima takes it as a personal duty to check up on how everyone is doing every now and again (especially giyuu because nobody trusts him to be okay) and when anyone is feeling down at all he cries with them and he makes for a pretty good therapist in a pinch. he’s also aro/ace. when he first learned abt romantic/sexual attraction he was a bit skeptical, but he supports all of the other hashira and their romantic pursuits.

muichiro tokito - genderfluid, has the biggest neo hoard out of all the hashira. they love going out with mitsuri for lunches because she’ll buy them as much food as they want. she’s not one to judge. their memory lapses also cause them a lot of distress, and those are the days when therapist himejima™️ comes in. also muichiro has chronic psychosis, and while they’ve figured out how to work around it, it hasn’t been the easiest thing for them to deal with.

kanroji mitsuri - panromantic! pangender but fem-aligned! demisexual! amab! she’s kind of in queerplatonic relationships with all of the hashira. she’s the cheerleader of the group, which puts a lot of strain on her at times. which can cause her to break down every now and again, but it’s nothing a group bonding session can’t help! she’s an extrovert at heart and feels the most happy and energized when she’z spending time with her friends. also, may i present adhd mitsuri who hyperfixates on different romance novels? (she totally doesn’t give them to shinazugawa when she’s done *wink*)

iguro obanai - i saw it/rot iguro once and i haven’t looked back since. its gender identity was severely influenced by rots trauma. honestly iguro sees rotself as more of a disgusting “thing“ than a person. uzui and muichiro didn’t understand this at first, and thought that was more of an obscure way of describing its gender than an insecurity, but since they rolled with it for so long soon it just became a source of coping jokes and an easy way to describe rots gender. it also picked up a knitting hobby? so rot makes masks for itself for fancy occasions when the bandages don’t cut it.

uzui tengen - poly king. polysexual, polyamorous, polygender. uses so many neopronouns and probably keeps a list. he also has a ton of xenogenders that he feels on a rotation, and whenever he gets thrown out of the rotation he acts very dramatic. sometimes he cooks for his wives and he’s way too good at it. his yelling problem comes from when he was little and he would talk very quietly, so nobody could hear what he was saying and they weren’t patient enough to deal with it, so they just encouraged him to yell. he’s trying to pull back on it because sometimes it makes suma cry (it doesn’t take much to make her cry but he feels so bad every time)

[hopelessromanticsociopath]

Hi guys! I wanted to discuss why i personally am having a hard time recovering from my eating disorder and maybe someone can help or relate or make me feel better for a moments notice? I developed an eating disorder back in april 2020. It was over quarentine and i was eating whatever i wanted and it was very noticeable. I also worked at a pizza place and they gave me a free meal every time i worked a shift, which I definitely took advantage of and made myself my favorite pizza almost every time i came in. I weighed around 145-150. I was also about to experience one of the darkest times of my life. I remember I bought size 25 jeans and they didnt zip up at all and my mom was like oh okay that’s fine you can just return them and get another size, let me measure you to see what size urban says you would be. So she measured my waists and my hips and she said, you would be a size 28. And i was in complete shock. I used to be a skinny mini all my life because i never ate meat and ate like the same 3 foods. It at first began with me doing walks around my neighborhood and making myself healthy meals. I would make like stir fry and salads and sautee myself chicken. It was the healthy path to go down, but it didn’t give me the results i wanted. Back in middle school i had suffered from bulimia. I didn’t like that path. It made my heart race and it put a bad taste in my mouth. I wondered what would happen if i just stopped eating so much all together. It wasn’t until around July, when i realized i had just about nothing left. Most guys i used to be friends with hated me, my best friend was never in town, i had no friends, i worked at a job every single day that i fucking hated. I looked at who i had become and i fucking hated it so much. It wasn’t until i reached that point and suffered extreme psychosis and convinced myself i was the ugliest and most horrible person on this planet and i would go days without eating. I would lock myself in my room in the dark and shut out the world. My life got better, somehow. Like a month later, school started. It was online but it still got me back in touch with people. I started talking to my old guy friends again. I actually started having friends again. I had a lot of friends actually. I started dating a really sweet guy and i confided in him what was going on in my head because i trusted him a lot and he knew i dealt with one before. He said he would make sure i was eating and he cared about me and didn’t want me to die or anything. You would think that me being happy and loved would make me accept myself and not feel the need to starve myself, but it was quite the opposite. If anything, i needed to prove that i was enough for him. I would go numerous days without eating. I actually noticed a change. My waist had gotten much thinner. Halloween came. I dressed up as a cheetah. I didn’t eat for 5 days until halloween came. I didn’t want to look bad. I was around 120-125 ish i think. And spontaneously he broke up with me. It shouldn’t matter that much to a normal person. Any normal person would’ve just got over it. But as someone who also has bpd, I absolutely lost it. I didn’t eat for a few days then got back in the routine of eating once or twice a day. This is where the feeling I’m talking about comes from. It made me feel sick to eat, wrong almost. I was so angry and upset that it happened and that it ended on such a horrible note and now we weren’t even friends that i took it all out on myself. I promised myself that the next time i saw him i would be the skinniest I’ve ever been. I just more than anything else wanted to be his friend again. Nothing more, i just wanted to feel worthy of his time like i once had. Eventually we become friends again. He tries to get with my friend and i was drunk so i slapped him. Duh. Then i felt bad so i apologized and i kissed him on the cheek then i went to sleep. I woke up and was blocked on everything. He hated me once again. I felt horrible. I went on a drinking bender, and was drunk for 3 days. It was a very dark and anxiety inducing time of my life.

This time, he was actually gone for good. He was gone forever. And he still is gone, but it got worse for me. After that happened I didn’t eat for about 2 weeks. I got to 107 pounds. I also ran every day. I used to hate my running but recently, whenever i run my mind just goes blank. I black out too often. I don’t know what i did when i blacked out but i know it put me in some horrible positiondI just think about how I don’t deserve to eat. Some people with eating disorders highlight how much they don’t like calories and eating because their fear is being fat. I do think like that. Still, if i eat now i freak out and think I’m obsese and just can’t look in the mirror, but most of all, I don’t believe i deserve meals. I’ve recently been put on a partial hospitalization thing. I don’t eat at the hospital because its not an eating disorder recovery hospital, it’s for my anxiety. My parents don’t know about my eating disorder. Its not “bad enough” even though i lost large amounts of weight. I’m still not as skinny as those little tumblr girls and it makes me angry. Having an eating disorder mindset is so depressing. When I’m starving all i want to do is eat. But in the back of my mind, my brain is cussing myself out and counting the calorie of every meal and snack and drink. My brain doesn’t want me to recover, it wants me to die. And i want to get better. I really really want to, but it would be for nothing. Then I wouldn’t have my body as something i like about myself anymore. I would have no control over anything in my life. I would be a boring and normal, sad teenage girl. And that’s boring. I refuse to be boring.

I highly doubt anyone read this whole thing. If you did you deserve a serious high five. I’m just angry i guess. Angry with life, angry the way things are, angry that i lose everyone good i ever meet, angry that I’m alone right now, angry at circumstances. It’s unfair. I will never find my happiness, especially not with my mind right now.

I don’t think I deserve meals. I am not a good person. Every calorie i eat my brain screams at me that I’m fat and ugly and no one could ever love someone as ugly and horrible as me. It makes life so difficult. I reached my goal weight. Why isn’t that enough? Why can’t that be enough for me? Why do I have to be stick thin? I just want someone to notice me and ask if I’m okay.

[anyu-blue]

So a friendship ended... But luckily in this case it's absence leaves room for better things to grow.

I was rambling in the tags of my previous reblog, but yeah...

'friend' decided that Empathy and Sympathy mean the same thing, that I am not, in fact, an empath/able to put myself in others' shoes/sometimes unwilling pulled or made to feel things against my will (experience things that aren't may own), that NO ONE could feel what he feels or know what he's going through, that I have a messiah complex, that he 100% wants something (that I, being me, cannot/will not provide), and that families and friends cannot possible hold one another accountable/truly be honest with each other.

I have tried very hard for months to be patient with this man. Tried very hard to be a good friend and more. Tried very hard to give him the benefit of the doubt too. But, well, he isn't worth my time and effort I've decided.

Maybe I'm wrong in that I'm an empath and I've just got another form of psychosis. I fully admitted it was a possibility... But I was honestly helped by people being willing and able to kindly explain how they could put themselves into my shoes almost perfectly and WERE me at one point- with all my experiences and feelings... Not with the same names and faces of course, but knowing my experiences aren't so unique and I wasn't so alone as I thought was such a comfort to me. And it certainly feels like I can do the same that they were describing of being in others' shoes.. and that sometimes too it's involuntary..

Of course I was a stubborn teenager at the time I was being told all of this and going through that teenagery 'you don't know what it's like!!' stage... But I learned. I was able to step back and take stock when my hormones weren't flying all over the place (made worse by an undiagnosed hormone disorder at the time (woo nonbinary body!), but I still managed with help and good role models)... I'm sad my former friend never got that and can't clearly draw understanding of stuff like that. He's into his 30s so, well.. it's harder. I get that. In a few years almost on the dot I'll be 30 myself. I know how much harder some of this stuff is now that I'm very much an adult vs when I was a teen.

According to him though... Yes. Empathy and Sympathy are the same thing. Completely overlooking that Sympathy is having a common feeling and being able to feel sorry for someone... And empathy is SHARING a feeling and being able to experience/feel what it is that's being gone through- not just feel sorry (And I'm explaining it this way because he pulled up Definition number two of Sympathy and Definition one of empathy from google and demanded to know how they were different- common vs sharing is definitely a key difference in those Definitions... And Empathy's specified it was an ability on top of that so... Hmm). I wasn't there for that type of ignorance.

Next is the idea that his experience is SO unique I couldn't possibly understand and then his demand of me to explain how he felt if I 'thought I could'. Okay, first of all it's is heckin' RUDE to demand your friends explain how they could 'possibly know' how/why you're bothered by Something... But I did try- after telling him I wanted an apology for him being so rude as to demand that... he half apologised and mostly went into detail about his woeful feelings.... And yet when I told him I made my reply/explanation much earlier in the day and copy/pasted it to our chat from my Docs (which, to be fair, matched what he said incredibly well) he told me that I was 'just regurgitating' what he told me about how he felt. Um... You asked me how you felt and then I told you what it feels like to go through what you're going through and why it's so bothersome (because I've BEEN there myself?)... Only for you to tell me I don't understand and I'm just echoing you rather than feeling anything? Um?? Empathy is FEELING what YOU feel??? Hello??? And you asked me to describe it??? WTF? I wasn't there for THAT either.

And then he had the idea to accuse me of having a messiah complex (because he 'had one too when [he] was younger and had to learn People weren't worth saving'). Okay. I didn't 100% get what that was/didn't entirely trust my gut feeling on the Google Definition... So what did I do? I googled it. And then I asked my sister (without context) if she thought the description matched me before I replied. According to Google and my sister and the rest of my family... I do not have a messiah complex. Not the first Definition of believing to have some calling or right to heal people, nor the second Definition of believing to be responsible for helping people... As I told him I only offer bits and pieces of advice and different outlooks on the same situation because I am trying to be a good friend. Sure I HOPE it'll be helpful or someone might gain Something from it- but I'm not Sharing because I BELIEVE it will solve the problem or that I'm responsible for fixing someone (I know the line is fine and blurry, but I s2g caring for a friend by sharing stuff and believing you HAVE to help someone are TOTALLY different things)... People sharing their experiences and what works for them to help them not be so miserable is what has helped me throughout my life... it's a mark of my best friends. And I truly don't understand some social cues of how sometimes sharing advice or ideas or memories even ISN'T needed, wanted, or helpful... Obviously. (Because I'm clearly neurodivergent- uh, hello?! Can't 100% help it but trying my hardest?!)....

But according to him... I'm just blind and needed to be knocked down a few pegs rather than thinking I'm so great and could possibly understand him/anyone else... Okay. Not here for that.

I admitted to him that sure... Some of my own experiences bleed into empathetic episodes. It happens!! Like when he's told me multiple times that he's been left out with his family (no one shares information or events beyond what's ABSOLUTELY REQUIRED with him- won't tell him a family member is dying but will talk about Christmas sort of deal) and is a black sheep (different political/life views and feelings of only being tolerated) the ways he has... I put my own experiences of being neglected/abandoned into that. He swears he had always been loved and never felt alone/mistreated by his family (even though he's the one who described these things and Is partially why the feelings of abandonment popped up as I went into his shoes more or less-- but hey. Mistakes happen as do unintentional bleeds. I get that it's not perfect because ultimately I'm still me even when experiencing others. I can and will admit to skewing some things like so on accident if it's true.. but I refuse to believe I understand absolutely nothing at all when we are ALL human and typically have emotions and certain reactions to certain things. Most of us REALLY aren't THAT unique!! Sorry.. it's extremely true based on science's understanding/research anyway).

One of the last things he said to me after accusing me of the messiah complex was he just wants me to 'listen and agree' with him about stuff instead of telling him about my/other ways of looking at things, telling him he's off the mark, or trying to help with the misery.... When previously (and over and over and over) having demanded my absolute honesty and having said he appreciates what I do.... I will not lie to him and say he's right in what he's doing or does with a given situation if he's wrong or looking at it through a lens. Duh. That's 'bad' friend stuff. And sure I can listen no problem!! IF I am told outright/first that what he's saying is JUST a vent and not supposed to be a conversation at all. I've mentioned I need that sort of thing!! If it's just a vent, tell me!!! I'll stfu and listen knowing that... But I'm SORRY I CANNOT just outright TELL. It's not a skill I have!! I HAVE been attempting to get better at it... But anyone can tell you text is especially HARD. Especially when we DO have a conversation about it? A back and forth? And you NEVER once say 'i don't want your take. I just want you to listen.' Even my own sisters and I have to stop ourselves and go... Hey... I really appreciate what you're trying to do, but I'm just venting. And then everything gets so much easier!!! And if we can open with that- 'hey, can I vent to you?' OMFGGGGGGGG it's SO much EASIER!!!

... and yet still.. following that... I am INCREDIBLY LUCKY... Because in venting or in sharing and asking for advice and more... MY family is made up of the type of people who can step back and be unbiased!!! And we can stop each other and TELL each other if we are, in fact, fucking up!!! I mean sure... There's always going to be that love and desire for better for one another... Be ALL of us are under the impression that sometimes the people we love are WRONG and sometimes they are BAD no matter how much we don't want them to be.. and it's far kinder to be honest and take the 'right' side than to give each other all the quarters we want. We cannot learn and/or grow if we cannot hold each other accountable... And Sharing experiences and saying why is designed to be a kindness no matter if it actually helps them or not.. But guess what my 'friend' thought of that? ROFL I was obviously under the incorrect impression and my family will always take MY side simply because I'm family...

In the end...

I do NOT need a 'friend' like that. Who questions everything I do, demands more of me/everyone than I/anyone can provide, who cannot and will not learn or be open to learn in any form, and who takes - dude, you're pissing me off. Fuck off for the night and maybe we can talk again in the morning once we've both gotten sleep- as a 'challenge' to prove this that or the other thing and attack their friend... What the ever loving FUCK is WRONG with you?!

... if you want to know what started this whole thing... He was complaining that none of his friends 'will' hang out with him anymore. Totally understandable to feel awful and lonely (and everything I described to him that he demanded I do)...

But he kept taking it father saying people always changed their schedules on purpose or clearly had nothing else going on in their lives but avoided him anyway and stuff like that... And I dared to question and suggest that some of us DO have good reasons for canceling and not spending the time he wants/needs... That some of us have offered compromises that have never been enough but we still try and SOMETIMES life really DOES just get in the way!!! Like my being sick all the time!! I don't WANT to stay cooped up in my house every day fearing even a passing cold will knock me off my feet!! But dude!! I HAVE to!! And People don't USUALLY demand schedule changes!! It usually kinda gets thrust upon them!! Hello??? Don't we live in america where that's WIDELY KNOWN?! Where sometimes people CAN'T take what little spare time they have and spend it on YOU?? ESPECIALLY during a PANDEMIC and other big changes??? That sometimes that time NEEDS to be taken up with simple pleasures like a single player game in their own home?! Don't People USUALLY have reasons for their habits too? Prerogatives/needs that they don't or can't share with others during those habits because MAYBE it's what they need and you just happen not to be a part of it but could be if you actually ASKED what was going on?! Or idk... LISTENED to what they're telling you about WHY-- especially when you yourself admit you are the ODD one who needs other people physically around to recharge (where most other people don't/only get more exhausted)?!

In the end... I did tell him that sure... If he's treating his other friends like this (which clearly he was treating me pretty darn awfully) then maybe YEAH some of them do it on purpose. We already know how younger brother (my ex) does and that he's not exactly shy about that. Friends may do it on purpose eventually- especially if he's treating People awfully and accusing them of doing it on purpose when they DON'T have control over it... Maybe they WILL migrate to doing it on purpose because of the accusations and inability to make him believe life is just messy sometimes!! But they don't want to lose an occasionally really great friend (because good or bad losing a friend is HARD on the mind and body) and/or don't see how manipulated they are?

In which case... He deserves it. Just like he deserved my wrath (at least in part- I was told I took it a bit too far in that I didn't block him sooner. I did make that mistake for sure XP) when he decided to be so fucking rude to me and then piss all over my efforts to try and be what constitutes a good friend.

Fuck you, dude. You're clearly not worth my time.

And of course the very very last word he had was 'you deserve better friends than I am right now.'

Which, while true and would have been sweet, is something I know (and he has admitted to in the past) is a 'feel sorry for me' tactic. It's not 100% true remorse any more than 'oh no I fucked up and don't want to deal with the consequences of my fucking up, maybe this will get them to feel sorry and let me do it again/get away with it.' I've used it too and understand the tactic all too well. So again I say and know he's not worth my damn time.

Without him in that space of my life... I have more room for others and especially more for myself. I don't need that toxicity. I've been that person too and I know it. I still have my days. And yet it's still okay and good I've walked away.

Fuck you, dude. You're clearly not a friend for me.

[dontasktheradiodemon]

DM Private Chat - 11/30

Alastor and @hiss-and-vinegar talk about Sir Pent’s mental health.

And Alastor casually mentions that he’s been to therapy and just, fucking, doesn’t elaborate on this at all.

11/29/2020

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 DON'T TELLJOKEsr

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 Come again?

11/30/2020

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 OH. I DON'T REMEMBER SENDING THAT.

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 Are you feeling alright? Didn’t wake up disoriented with a bump on your head?

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 NO, I WAS JUST EXHAUSTED!!

🐍 I THINK THAT RESPONSE I DON'T QUITE REMEMBER HAD SOMETHING TO DO WITH SOMETHING YOU SAID

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 Oh? Remember what it was?

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 YOU DOUBTING YOUR STANDING AS MY FRIEND!

🐍 I'VE NO INTEREST IN MAKING A DOPPELGANGER MY BEST FRIEND, THAT IS TOO CLOSE FOR COMFORT.

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 Oh! Fine, fine, no more jokes like that.

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 AT LEAST PUT IN SOME KIND OF HINT TO ME THAT YOU ARE JOKING

🐍 LIKE YOUR OWWO FACE SOMEWHERE

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 Right! No tone online, is there.

🎶 Honestly, it wasn’t so much a joke as a slight hyperbole! I expect you’ll be making good friends with him, won’t you? Who are you going to get along better with than yourself, after all! So much in common!

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 COMMONALITIES MIGHT NOT ALWAYS BE SO GOOD FOR FRIENDSHIPS.

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 No? I've always gotten along great with my duplicates! The only problems are when we don't have enough in common.

🎶 I'm quite alike with all my friends!

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 I IMAGINE IT COMES NATURALLY TO YOU! I FIND IT A STRESSFUL ENDEAVOR. COMPETITION, BUT I TRY.

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 Why compete! You could exchange tips and tricks on now to conquer your respective Hells! Or split up research projects—one of you works on an engine while the other works on a gun, you'll be twice as destructive in half the time and you can still take credit for it because you would have come up with the exact same designs!

🎶 But I understand, the temptation to see whether you measure up to yourself, and if you're the better of the two how can you trust he won't be envious... All the same. I think you Should get along.

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 THAT IS WHAT I AM HOPING FOR, AND I AM CERTAIN IT WILL GO THAT WAY. HE SEEMS OPEN TO NEW IDEAS, MORE THAN I HAD BEEN. I SUPPOSE I AM THANKFUL HE WASN'T LIKE /ME/.

11/30/2020

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 How do you know he's not thinking the same thing about you? Give yourself a little credit, my friend!

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 HA! IT IS THE SELF LOATHING.

🐍 HM, THAT JOKE DOESN'T HIT RIGHT OVER TEXT

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 I don't think it'd hit very well in person, either.

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 CAN'T ALL BE BANGERS.

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 You're just about the most impressive person I know! I'm amazed all of Hell doesn't think so! But if anyone should think so—it should be you.

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 I KNOW THAT I AM AMAZING AND INCREDIBLE, I KNOW THAT I DESERVE EVERYTHING I WANT, THAT THERE ISN'T ANYONE AS HARDWORKING AND DEDICATED AS I AM!!!

🐍 BUT THERE ARE DAYS THAT I'M SO TIRED.

🐍 AND THOUGHTS SLIP IN, EXHAUSTING THOUGHTS.

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 On those days, I'll try to like you enough for the both of us, how's that sound? See if I can't cancel out some of the thoughts that have no business hanging around your head.

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 HAHA, YOU SOUND LIKE VALERA, ALASTOR.

🐍 THANK YOU.

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 Well, with the two of us on the cause, you should be fine!

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 HA! YES, WELL, WE KNOW THAT THERAPY IN HELL CERTAINLY WON'T BE OF ANY AIDE.

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 Very entertaining, though! Ask an alienist to explain their favorite fringe psychological theories and it sounds like reading Jekyll & Hyde, all this talk about subtle mental processes you can affect with clever little chemical potions.

🎶 Have you been looking into that? I doubt all of them were damned for being bad at therapy, some of them have to be down here for adultery or what have you.

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 OH, I DO NOT DOUBT IT AT ALL. SLEEPING WITH THEIR PATIENTS, I'VE HEARD TALE AS WELL.

🐍 I WAS REMEMBERING SOMETHING VALERA SAID ABOUT MEDICINE AND THERAPY. I SUPPOSE I WONDERED ABOUT IT.

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 I meant normal, non-therapy-related adultery, but that too!

🎶 I suppose it can't hurt, as long as you don't go to an absolute lunatic. Easy enough to figure out by asking around.

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 I AM NOT CERTAIN ABOUT IT, OVERALL.

🐍 AFTER ALL, GOING TO SOMEONE LIKE THAT, TO WHAT... POUR MY GUTS OUT FOR THEM TO MOCK AND PICK APART? MMM. NO THANK YOU

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶  What, the profession in general?

🎶 Ah! You'd be surprised what you can get away with keeping secret! Most of them are either too dumb to figure it out or too smart to pry.

🎶 And you can always shoot someone who knows too much.

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 HA!

🐍 STILL, WHAT TO EVEN SAY? "I REQUIRE MEDICINE THAT WILL KEEP ME GROUNDED TO AN ACCEPTABLE LEVEL OF SUFFERING IN /HELL./"

🐍 I PUT IT TO THE SAME STANDARDS AS REDEMPTION--A NICE THOUGHT, BUT HARDLY POSSIBLE TO OBTAIN

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 Sure! Why not say that? I've been brewing potions for a century—and a potion's just a kind of medicine—and, surprise surprise, most of them keep working just fine in Hell.

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 I RATHER WANT TO AVOID BEING LAUGHED OFF.

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 More than likely, what you're going to get is some alienist eager to chuck pills at you until something sticks. I've even seen ones that just keep little samples of reefer and coke in their office to shove at clients to see if that'll fix their problems, but they'll recommend the more finely-tuned stuff, no problem.

🎶 Why, they wouldn't be trying to make a living treating ailments of the mind in Hell if they didn't expect customers to come in the door asking to suffer less!

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 I SUPPOSE THAT'S TRUE.

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 I visited an alienist for a bit in the early aughts—competent man. Pro-cannibalism and pro-murder. Classy fellow, too. I could hunt out his contact information if you want?

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 AH.. PERHAPS?? I DON'T KNOW. I'M STILL NOT SURE.

🐍 I DO NOT ENJOY ASKING FOR HELP FROM HELL'S SINNERS

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 I'd think of it less as "asking for help" and more as "demanding a service worker do their job on your behalf"!

🎶 But up to you. Offer's there if you want to try it out with someone who's already been vetted for competency.

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 I GUESS I ALREADY TRUST ALCOHOL FLOODING THE CREVICES OF MY BRAIN TO HANDLE MOST OF MY PSYCHOSIS, PERHAPS IT ISN'T TOO ODD TO HOPE FOR SOME MEDICINE THAT IS MEANT FOR THE JOB.

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 I'm given to understand that most modern medicines work by taking the narcotics people already use to some chemist's lab and extracting the particles that help from the bits that cause side-effects you don't want. So if you've already got something that helps, I bet you anything that someone out there has made a more refined version.

🎶 And I'm not just talking about a higher proof!

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 MMM

🐍 I DON'T KNOW ABOUT "HELPS" HAHA! JUST NUMBS EVERYTHING, ABOUT.

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 Well—maybe something more useful's been made anyway, who knows.

🎶 I'm going to ask a question, and if it's none of my damn business you can tell me so, I won't take offense.

🎶 But when you say you've got a "psychosis"—everyone I've met who says that means something different by it. What's it mean to you?

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 WELL, UP UNTIL I'D DIED, I THOUGHT THAT MY BRAIN WAS CONTAMINATED WITH GHOSTS. AT LEAST, THAT'S WHAT I WOULD HAVE BEEN TOLD BY THE PHYSICIANS OF MY TIME. NOT ALL OF THEM, MIND YOU, BUT WE WERE ALL OFTEN BLAMED FOR OUR OWN MENTAL INSTABILITY.

🐍 BUT I DO KNOW THIS.

🐍 WHEN IT IS AT ITS WORSE, IT IS AS IF I CAN FEEL MY OWN BLOOD BECOME ACID IN MY VEINS, AND MY OWN SCREAMING IS FAR AWAY.

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 Huh. Metaphorically or literally?

🎶 I can at least say it's no ghost. I dealt with plenty of ghosts and none of them ever did anything like that.

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 I WANT TO SAY METAPHORICALLY, BUT I DON'T KNOW. POSSIBLY METAPHORICALLY.

🐍 ALL I KNOW IS I AM OVERCOME WITH THE INTENSE PULL TO CLAW AND TEAR AT MY OWN FLESH, FOR SOME KIND OF RELIEF.

🐍 YOU BETTER NOT LAUGH- THESE ARE EMBARRASSING THINGS TO ADMIT.

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 My friend, I am absolutely not laughing.

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 A GREAT SHAME OF AN INVENTOR, TO ADMIT THAT HE IS MAD INDEED. ANOTHER REASON FOR ALL OF HELL TO BRUSH ME OFF.

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 What, haven't you heard of the "eccentric genius"? And to hear the picture shows tell it, most inventors are mad. I don't think it's anything to be ashamed of!

🎶 I know some curses that make one's veins feel like fire, but if you were hexed, you'd probably know by now. Never heard of a mental cause. But then that's not my field, I'm sure someone knows.

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 PERHAPS IT IS JUST MY LOT IN HELL!

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 If it started before you got to Hell? I doubt it!

🎶 I'm not claiming to be some kind of expert on acid blood, I'm just... well... Thinking out loud, I suppose.

hiss-and-vinegar

�� I UNDERSTAND. MY BLOOD DOESN'T FEEL LIKE ACID THE REST OF THE TIME.

🐍 JUST WHEN IT ALL GOES SIDEWAYS. AND EVERYONE BECOMES AN EVERYTHING.

🐍 AND I BARELY FEEL LIKE I'M HERE.

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 Ahhh. So it doesn't just come on by itself, it's some sort of reaction to something.

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 YES, APPARENTLY.

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 Some kind of brain-storm, then. Huh. Well, I don't know if people were familiar with brain-storms in your time, but they were in mine, so it stands to reason someone's got to know more about them by now.

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 A BRAIN STORM? WHAT A FUN LITTLE NAME! WOULD MAKE AN INTERESTING WEAPON.

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 Hah, there's an idea! Go to a shrink, tell 'em you have brain-storms, wait'll he asks what they feel like, then say "Like this!" and shoot.

🎶 It probably wouldn't help. But it'd be funny!

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 HAAAAAAA HA HA HAAAAAAA

🐍 I DO LOVE THAT!

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 AH, THANK YOU ALASTOR. I DO NOT MAKE IT A HABIT TO CONFIDE LIKE THIS. MY MIND BECOMES PANICKED AT THE THOUGHT THAT I MAY HAVE SAID TOO MUCH, BUT THE FACT YOU DIDN'T LAUGH ME OFF MEANS A LOT.

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 I'd never!

🎶 And you've done the same for me. Not brain-storms, per se, but other unhappy things knocking around in my head.

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 NYA HA HA, SO WE ARE EVEN! (I AM WINKING)

🐍 ;3

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 So we are! Very kind of you, I don't like being in someone else's debt for long!

🎶 UwwO

[diary-of-olivia-seong]

July 7th, 2017

Dear diary,

To be honest, I don’t really know how to start this. I’ve never been one for diaries or journals, but Robert, my therapist, said that it might help. At the very least it’s a way to get my thoughts out of my head without someone replying, and maybe one of them will read this.

I can see, what I call, shadow people, since that’s what they look like, and as far as I know no one else can see them. Animals can see them, and I often see my cat, Jimothy, playing with some of the shadow people and the one time we went to a horse farm, I watched a shadow person try to pet the horse, but the horse freaked out about it. They can also interact with the real world. Not always, they pass through objects and walls most of the time, but I’ve watched them knock things off of tables, open cabinet doors, and one time I saw one turn on the tv to watch it. I remember one of them threw a plate off the kitchen table and my dad saw it too. Or rather, he saw the plate fly off the table. That’s one of the things that makes me think that they’re real.

They like to watch people, and if you’ve ever felt like something is watching you, it’s probably one of them. They don’t seem bad, even if I’m pretty sure they’ve caused a few avalanches and rock slides. But let’s be honest, humans build and deploy nuclear bombs. We can’t really judge the shadow people. I do know that most of them like being around people. When I lived in Huntsville I only saw a handful of them every day. Now, here in Markham, there are so many. Too many. But now I know that they avoid dead people. It sounds crazy, but I know when someone’s died in a car accident because all the shadow people flee the moment someone dies. I haven’t ever seen one in a cemetery or graveyard, and that’s how I can tell where unmarked graves are. They have no qualms against dead animals, though they do mourn dead animals. I saw that from when I was living in a foster home and our dog, Midnight, died from a heart attack. A spindly shadow person was stroking Midnight, and a smaller, rounder shadow person appeared to be crying. 

At first, Robert thought that there was some sort of abuse that was going on in my early childhood that caused psychosis, but none of the other kids who were in my foster homes had symptoms of an abusive childhood, and if they did the source of it was a different foster home. Also, the only symptom I have of psychosis is the “hallucinations”. I got tested for schizophrenia, but so many things don’t line up. Sure, I’m convinced that the shadow people are real, but I can ignore them and from a very young age I could tell that no one else could see them. Plus, I see them in photos and recordings, and they’re affected by my glasses. By affected, I mean if I take off my glasses they get blurry just like everything else, and neither of my birth parents have any history, or family history, of hallucinations. Well, my birth father and his father both have a history of drug abuse, and there’s a chance my birth mother was peer-pressured into using drugs during her pregnancy. I wouldn’t be surprised, pregnant at 17 from a boyfriend who raped her and she already wanted to break up with, and then her family won’t let her have an abortion, I honestly wouldn’t blame her. But, again, I have no symptoms of drug use during pregnancy, not even fetal alcohol syndrome. 

There, so far, is no reason for me to be having hallucinations, which further convinces me that they’re not hallucinations. I mean, yeah I’ve seen them interact with the real world, other people have seen their real world interactions. I remember in grade 5 when Ben forced me to come over to his house because he thought it was haunted, and I was just like “dude there are so many shadow people here”. I had already told him about the shadow people, but he still thought they were evil forces at that time. He knows better now. Doesn’t stop him from trying to get me to start something like the Magnus Institute, but real and for shadow people. I don’t think anyone would believe me, aside from superstitious people like Ben. Even my parents wouldn’t have believed me, had my dad not seen the plate fly to the ground seemingly all on its own. When I first met Ben, in grade 2, I thought he was a weird kid who listened to too many ghost stories who was best avoided, and with how he attracted the shadow people, I really didn't want to be around him. It didn't take much for Clarissa to convince me to be mean to him like all the other kids were. I was, of course, a fucking idiot to do that. I trusted Clarissa way too much, especially with how she spoke about others when they weren't around. But, she was my first friend in Markham, and I didn't want to be friendless like Ben. Of course, it didn't take long for me to tell her about the shadow people, and the next day I found that Clarissa, and all my other "friends" were treating me like we treated Ben. I still refused to talk to Ben until grade 3, when my Appa learnt I wasn't talking to the only kid who might actually consider being my friend because he was "weird". So what if he didn't like eye contact and sometimes made funny noises? He was nice. Still is. Everyone knew I saw "ghosts", so I shouldn't have been surprised when Ben asked me if they haunted various spots around the school that he believed were haunted. It took seven weeks to convince him that they didn't "haunt" anywhere, they roamed wherever they wanted. 

Ben has since forgiven me for everything I did to him. I don’t think I quite desreve that.

Ben still attracts loads of shadow people, which makes it hard to watch any tv together, but they don't talk so we are at least able to listen to podcasts. Mostly real horror stuff, and theorize about what the shadow people might have actually been doing. The Magnus Archives is one of the few fictional podcasts we listen to, and the shadow people seem to like it as well.

I guess I should probably talk about the shadow person who recently started following me a lot. Even know, as I'm writing this, they're watching me while they float with their waist inside my desk. Kind of rude if you ask me. Like all the shadow people, this one has pitch black skin, and blueish white eyes, pupils barely a shade darker. This one also has blueish white hair, which isn't a universal trait. Their hair goes just past their shoulders, and it's pretty curly. Jimothy like this one well enough, so I assume they mean no harm, but I can't be certain.

Well, it's almost dinner time, so I guess that's all for today. I'll write an update if anything interesting happens.

[mxxnblind]

does ralis suffer from PTSD regarding everything that's happened?? if not, any other side effects?

misc. asks ;; always accepting

He’d never been overly fond of Solstheim to begin with.  & really, after this whole ordeal, it would take an exceptional amount of pressure or genuine purpose for the man to even consider a trip back once he’s formally left.  Let alone get on a boat where changes of plan aren’t entirely probable ; dare he panic halfway there.  He doesn’t mind boats, but they really aren’t the best place to have an anxiety attack.  One might even notice him avoiding the coastlines parallel to Solstheim altogether after he’s finally fled the island.  Raven Rock’s potential & charm be damned once he realizes the entirety of the island made him feel so … weak.  Something I think about frequently is how Ralis, of course, felt the pure force of Ahzidal’s influence while, I can only imagine, also caught in the aura of Miraak’s overall influence over Solstheim.  Something felt wrong when they’d arrived.  & things only got worse as they tracked down the buried barrow.  Naturally, Ralis would come to assume it was all Ahzidal.  But tales of the last dragonborn & Miraak … Yikes.  That’s another post for another time though !!

Let’s talk about ~Trauma~ 

Ralis is Fucked !!!  It’s … bad.  Turns out living in isolation, in a high stress environment & overall scenario, with a lich dragon priest using you as a personal ragdoll & playing yahtzee with your mind, for months & months on end … could be traumatizing & induce a bit of psychosis.  Who would have guessed.  It’s … troubling.  Outwardly he appears to have it together.  Psychologically he’s still, all things considered, exceptionally high functioning.  It’s not … ‘oOoH pSycHo rAliS’.  No.  Fuck that.  I hate that.  That’s actually offensive.  It’s more … realistic.  He genuinely … Struggles to differentiate reality from … Well, the cluster fuck which is his mind space at current.  He still …. hears things.  He still has visions.  Hallucinations.  Blackouts. (no sacrificial murder this time !! but it’s still awful waking up somewhere with no memory !!!)  He still hears Ahzidal.  The hisses.  The whispers.  Feeling a constant looming presence.  He see the mask everywhere & in everything. 

Ahzidal has been defeated, but Ralis still can’t get away.  

I feel like this is why he responds the way he does if the pc decides not to spare him.  & I feel like it’s important to note that he does not become hostile until after it’s verbalized they don’t believe him & think he should be punished.  He’s spitting out what Ahzidal must have told him.  Over & over. 

“What ? No !  You can’t… I have his will on my side!  He will command all of us!”

Ahzidal had control of Ralis, yes, but Ahzidal would want that influence to run so deep it’s ingrained in Ralis as a whole.  Something Ralis can process through on his own … But if threatened with death by a trusted friend?  Seconds after being freed?  Well …  Maybe Master Ahzidal was right & his business partner really ~was~ out to get him !  & betray him !  & leave him for dead ! & don’t trust ~them~ you know the truth !! you know better !! Because Master Ahzidal Said.

& it’s such a struggle for him due to the nature of Ahzidal’s influence.  Ahzidal was in his mind.  Ahzidal was influencing every single action.  Every single thought.  Ralis spent the entirety of the excavation shifting from assuming ; he’s having a psychotic breakdown & trying to hide it, somewhat acknowledging he’s in actual trouble & still trying to hide it for the safety of others despite his mind magic induced haze, realizing fully how truly under Ahzidal’s contol he is after being rescued from it … & being left to wonder …. why he still …. Hears him. 

It frightens him.  Having to sit there & wonder if it’s actually all in his head this time.  Or if Ahzidal had either … never left to begin with … or was making a genuine return.  Which are valid fears.  Which doesn’t help.  His greatest fear is waking up & finding bloodied hands again.  Luckily for him … It won’t ever pan out that way ever again.  He’s in control this time, even if he’s spiraling, it’s only him in there.  It gets better with time.  The psychosis in particular.  But overall he’s … scarred for life ?  Straight up ??

There’s a reason he doesn’t immediately go back to the mainland.  He … can’t.  Not yet.  Not until he gets his mind sorted out.  This is going to branch off into a Robyn centric hc real quick, so cheers to anyone who’s made it this far, but it’s a large reason she brought him to Skyrim in the first place.  He wasn’t ready to go back to Morrowind.  & won’t be ready for a length of time.  He is not in the right state of mind to go right back to work.  He’d try, of course, & may even seem to be fine.  But … Robyn knows better now.  Robyn is paying closer attention now.  & she brings him to the one place in all of Tamriel, hate it or not, where she feels.  Safest.  Most at home.  Closest to family.  A familiar landscape where they can still find distraction, but also the means of proper recovery.  They’ll drift back to Mournhold eventually, Ralis does have a small home there, but where he stands at present, stepping back from his everyday life & taking care of himself is best.

[mcdynamite]

[Spoilers] I think GoT 8.05 made perfect sense, and here’s why:

 Hello people of Tumblr! I’ve seen a lot of people bashing the most recent episode of Game of Thrones for a number of reasons and I want to step up to the plate and go to bat for the show. To clarify, I dislike D&D as much as pretty much everyone else who watches the show. I think the writing has been lazy, the dialogue has been lacking, and the lead in to some of the things that have happened this season could definitely be better. But everything that happened in 8.05 makes sense, and I actually liked the episode. This is why.

Cersei’s Demise is kinda perfect.

I know a lot of us, myself included, were looking forward to a brutal, sadistic death for a brutal, sadistic woman. But here’s the thing... in its own way, it was a totally brutal way for her to go out. Think about it, Cersei has spent pretty much her entire life talking her way out of things, manipulating people, and in general feeling more powerful than everyone else around her, including her family. She died finally realizing that she was completely helpless and all hope was lost. She died knowing that her arrogance and often unnecessary brutality was what had cost herself, her children, the man she loves, and even her own father their lives. 

She couldn’t sass the collapsing rock to death. She couldn’t stall and wait for The Mountain to come to her aid. She couldn’t do anything but break down and cry and tell Jaime she wanted their baby to live, trapped in the same underground passages where she vowed to destroy all three of Dany’s dragons. Cersei wasn’t publicly executed in front of thousands of onlookers. She died UNDERGROUND, unthought of and uncared for by anyone else in the world but Jaime. She died the same death as all of the innocent citizens who died that day in part because of her own arrogance. It wasn’t special. It was lonely, hidden, and desperate - a fitting end for a woman who’s lived her whole life believing in her own importance.

And speaking of Cersei, even Jaime’s apparent regression makes some sense.

Ah, Jaime Lannister, one of the most emotionally complicated men in all of Westeros. I’m not gonna lie, this disappointed me because I had hoped for better for Jaime, but not because it didn’t make sense. We were ALL rooting for Jaime to ditch Cersei, become the noblest man in the whole world and just be with Brienne, who clearly loves him. But if you take a minute to think about it, while Jaime’s character development has been significant, it never really veered away from loving Cersei. 

He’s always been doing what’s best for her, and yes, that includes when he left her to head North. Jaime did that because humanity was in danger, and as such, Cersei was in danger. Barely over a season ago in 7.03, Jaime tells Olenna Tyrell that his love for Cersei has grown beyond his control. He openly admits it and tells Olenna that he doesn’t believe people will care how Cersei took the throne once they’re living in the world she built. He clearly still loves Cersei here, and while he’s tempering some of her most heinous ideas, like flaying Olenna alive, he’s still carrying out her orders. “For Cersei,” as he always says.

Jaime’s love for Cersei went far beyond his control. It was almost more like an addition than true love. His love for Brienne was pure and kind, but even the purest love can’t sway the grasp of an addition. Cersei was all Jaime had ever known, so even if he loved Brienne, even if he knew Cersei was hateful, even if he knew she was doing unspeakable things to the people of Westeros, it STILL makes sense that he went back. It’s legitimately not at all different from some abusive relationship in real life. One partner may realize that the other is abusive and hateful, but they can’t bring themselves to walk away, and when they do, they may go back. That doesn’t make them bad people, and it certainly doesn’t “undo” all of Jaime’s character development over the course of the series. 

Jaime Lannister is an immensely complicated character, and this is GAME OF THRONES we’re talking about. It’s a very human show. So frankly, if he has genuinely left Cersei without a second glance, that would have been immensely disappointing. It’s just not how people work, not after admitting how deep in the relationship he was literally just 9 episodes prior and only leaving to protect mankind from being destroyed.

And finally, let’s talk about the psychotic break of Daenerys Targaryen.

First, just a quick reminder at how utterly human this show is. We’ve got all sorts of realistic depictions of human nature in Game of Thrones. We have very real depictions of PTSD (looking at you, Theon and Sansa), realistic depictions of the horrors of slavery, realistic depictions of racism and ableism, the list goes on for miles. It’s made abundantly clear throughout the series that the Targaryens have a strong family history of mental illness, so here we go people. Let’s talk about mental illness.

Obviously, there are no therapists in Westeros to diagnose Dany with any particular illness, but it’s reasonable to hypothesize that Dany is experiencing psychosis, also known as a “psychotic break”. Something important to not about psychosis: it’s sort of like a break from reality, so the way someone behaves during a psychotic break is not at all who they normally are as a person. And here’s another thing about psychosis: YOU DO NOT SHOW SIGNS OF IT YOUR ENTIRE LIFE, especially not major ones. Not every person who commits a heinous act of violence grew up murdering small animals and saying sadistic things to family members and friends as a child. I’ve seen a lot of anti-Mad Queen Dany arguments online, and I’d like to debunk a few of them with regards to how mental illness often actually works.

1. Dany was an abused child, why would she hurt children?

Yikes, you guys. This is a really weak argument. Many studies have shown that childhood trauma is associated with greater disposition towards psychosis later in life. Obviously not everyone who has gone through a childhood trauma will experience psychosis, but it can actually be a direct contributing factor to a psychotic break.

2. Dany has always showed compassion to innocent people like the slaves across the sea, so why doesn’t she now?

Again, psychosis is not a direct reflection of who someone is as a person because it represents a break from reality. You don’t have to be an intrinsically horrible person to do something bad when you’re not in control.

3. The warning signs were there, but they were too weak to justify what happened to King’s Landing.

When a person experiences psychosis, the EARLY warning signs (let’s just say for the purposes of this argument are things that happened prior to the start of season 8) are often subtle or even unnoticeable until you’re looking back retrospectively. These can include things like spending more time alone than usual (check), suspiciousness or uneasiness with others (check), and having no feelings at all (check, remember when she ended things with Daario and the show made a big deal out of how she didn’t really feeling anything about it?).

The slightly later warning signs (so, this season) include strong and inappropriate emotions (check, she wants to have sex with her nephew not too long after she accused him of trying to steal her throne), social withdrawal (check), odd beliefs (check, her belief that she was sent by god to change the world), and suspiciousness (check). The warning signs were there and frankly exactly what one would expect to see in someone in the prodome (or very early stages) of psychosis.

4. It just happened so suddenly, the build up wasn’t enough.

Actually, it SUPER was enough. Recently, Dany has lost two dragons, her most trusted advisor, her best friend (who she watched be beheaded) and has arrived in a country where nobody likes or trusts her. All of these are pretty freaking traumatic, and a traumatic event can trigger psychosis. Boom. Bang. It makes sense.

Don’t get me wrong, I understand why people are upset about this. We were all rooting for Dany, our hero who walked out of the flames all those years ago with three baby dragons clinging to her. What happened in 8.05 was devastating to watch, but it wasn’t unrealistic. It was actually very well done from a standpoint of how things actually work in the real world. You can be frustrated with how things turned out, you can be devastated by the destruction of King’s Landing and Dany’s break, and you can be pissed about the lazy writing of this season, but you shouldn’t be angry with the show runners for Dany’s descent into madness. It was actually remarkably well done.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk. Valar morguhlis.

EDIT: Obviously not everyone who goes through a period of psychosis is violent. It is an INCREDIBLY small percentage who actually inflict harm on others during a psychotic break. With that being said, rare as it may be, it does happen, it is a real thing that happens in real life, and cases in which a violent outburst happens are pretty spot-on similar to the way it happened to Dany. As someone who has experienced psychosis myself, I of all people know that not everyone becomes violent. But the portrayal of Dany throughout the whole show does align with the prodome of an exceedingly rare, but real, type of psychosis. I’m sincerely sorry for not clarifying this in my original post 💙

[my-brothers-corrupted]

My Brothers, Corrupted

Chapter 1 : Section 2 : The Way That We Live

Marvin has been kidnapped by Anti and quickly punished for attempting to approach Dapper, who is forced to live alone in the attic. Red, badly wounded but already growing attached to the newcomer whom Anti promises will soon become his “twin,” waits anxiously upstairs to see what will happen to his tortured brothers. Twins Doktor and Trick are just doing their best to stay out of harm’s way in the chaos of a new brother in the house, but there is no such thing as a promise of safety in this house.

Trigger warnings: (not necessarily a complete list! Please tell me if you need others added up here because I’m just trying to remember what’s in here) blood, torture, hypnosis, discussion of psychosis, extreme distress, and abuse, including infantilization of a disabled character and abuse between brothers (this tag refers to an ego other than Anti being rough with one of his brothers).

Find this chapter’s masterlist here.

Part Two of Chapter One: The Way that We Live

immabethehero asked: Marvin.... Anti's a glitch. I've heard of a type of glitch that can be taken out with Mountain Dew Red. The drinks not around anymore, but if you can find it, give to Anti.

“Do you understand?”

“Yes, I understand!”

“Are you going to break my rules again?”

“No, no, no, no!”

“You’re going to be a good boy?”

“I’m going to be good! I’m going to be so good, please, please!”

“Say ‘good boy.’ I want to hear you say you’ll be a good boy.”

“I’ll be a good boy, Anti, I’ll be a good good boy, I’ll be a good little kitty cat, I’ll do everything you say, I - ”

“Good, good. Okay. Okay. We’re done, see? We’re done.”

Sobbing, hard.

“Now you know. Now you understand, yes? We don’t have to do this again if you’re good. Okay. It’s okay. Hey, hey. Look at me. There you go, oh, nice boy. Poor thing, come on, don’t cry.”

He wipes tears and blood from Marvin’s face. Dapper is unconscious at his feet. Possession takes a lot out of you.

“Just had to teach you to follow the rules,” murmurs Anti.

He kisses Marvin’s forehead and carefully unlocks his chains, helping him sink gently to the floor. Sitting down beside him, Anti pulls Marvin to his chest and begins to stroke his hair, slow, careful, running his fingers against his scalp until Marvin’s crying has reduced to a low whimper.

“There, not so bad,” murmurs Anti, sighing. “Not so bad. Now say thank you.”

Blue stares, dead-eyed, at the floor. “Thank you,” he rasps. “Thank you.”

Anti kisses the side of his head and rises. He glances down at Dapper, sighs, and then reaches down to pick him up. You realize that Dapper was not, in fact, unconscious, just playing dead - his hands, shaking, wrap around Anti’s shoulders as he clings to him.

Anti carries him up the stairs. The door falls shut again. For a long moment, you sit with Marvin in silence. It’s been hours. Most of the day is gone. The whole house is silent.

“Mountain Dew Red,” he whispers, and then bursts into laughter, collapsing onto the floor, staining his white dress shirt crimson.

spicydanhowell asked: marv you're gonna be okay, don't pass out. he won't kill you.

“Not going to be okay,” whispers Marvin, though, for your sake, he tries to keep his eyes open. “Not okay… none of this is ever going to be okay… once it was just me I thought about… but I didn’t and now here I am…”

He is slicked in blood.

“With Jameson’s hands,” he whispers. “My baby brother. All my brothers, strung up like puppets… is that… is that going to happen to me too? Is this - ”

He chokes and spits something up, shaking hard. “Is this what he did to all of them too? And I wasn’t here? Did he torture my brothers like th-this? I c-can’t… I want… I wish I was never… please…”

musical-in-theory asked: Hey you’re still you. You’re responding to your name. Host hold on. We’ll help you get through this

Marvin laughs and cries, smiling at you with stained teeth. “Thank you,” he gasps desperately. “Thank you, yes, at least you still know who I am. At least someone will be here who isn’t his. Hey, will you - if he gets me, will you - will you remember who I was? Please, I don’t want - oh, I’m scared to die without dying.”

Anonymous asked: ...Did the others hear all that?

You try to reset your connection with Doktor and Trickshot and find them farther away than they’ve ever been. In fact, they’re a couple miles away, and as the feed returns, you see them sitting in a laundromat side-by-side, their hands resting close together.

Neither of them bothers with “hear what?”

“The basement’s pretty sound proof,” mumbles Trick. “But it’s not like we don’t know.”

“Dapper though,” whispers Doktor.

“It’s been a long time,” says Trick. “A long time since Dapper was in the basement.”

oasisofgalaxies asked: We’ll always remember you Marvin. We can’t forget you, Marvin the Magnificent. Damn me if I do. And I’ll remind you if you forget. I think we all will.

“You’re sweet!” he laughs, trying to sit up. “Thank you, fuck. You know I haven’t t-talked to much of anyone in the past few months. It has been… lonely, you know…”

He sits back against the wall, breathing hard. “Fuck, I’m so tired,” he mumbles.

spicydanhowell asked: carver? what's going on?

Your link with Carver re-establishes, but your camera was dropped in all the commotion, and now you’re lying sideways on the floor outside of the attic bedroom. Inside, you can see his legs on the bed, turned towards one of the walls, but he doesn’t answer you. He doesn’t move at all.

There are faint bloodstains on the floor, but they could be Marvin’s, tracked upstairs from standing on the floor of the basement. You aren’t sure.

Anonymous asked: It’s been a hard day for everyone. Maybe you just need some rest. Just be careful, I’m worried for yah. And it’s nice to talk to you too. Just wish I could help.

“Thank you. Yeah, I should… I should rest, huh? And I’ll be careful, I’ll be careful. I won’t - ” His voice breaks and he closes his eyes. “Won’t break the rules again.”

Anonymous asked: Do you think you'd be able to get upstairs before passing out, Marvin? I know you're hurt real badly, but there's at least blankets or sleeping bags up there, and I think Henrik won't want to come down to the basement and help you.

“Yeah,” whispers Marvin. “Yeah, I think he gets pretty scared when Anti is angry… and who could blame him? But I do need to get upstairs.”

He licks his mouth and stares up from the basement, a sort of desperation in his eyes. If you look, you can see that they are no longer quite so wildly blue as they in the past couple days, when he still had some of his strength. For a second, not wanting to upset you, he tries to struggle to his feet, but it is clear that he doesn’t have the strength, and he crumples back to the floor, coughing frailly, clutching at his stomach with bloody hands. Tears roll miserably down his cheeks.

“You don’t think Anti would let me die, do you?” he begs. “You don’t think - ”

The door above him swings open and light pours down on him. For a second, he flinches horribly, slamming back against the wall, but it is not Anti at the top of the stairs.

“Ja - Red,” begs Marvin, weeping. “Red, please. Are you going to beat me too?”

Red stares down at him, his face blank, trying to work up the courage to set foot on the stairs.

spicydanhowell asked: carver?

He coughs softly and shifts on the bed almost like he’s re-awakening. There’s a long pause, several minutes, where he just sits on the bed, turned slightly towards you.

Eventually, he gets up, and moves closer.

He’s bizarrely quiet, his feet making no sound that you can pick up on as he pads across the room in clean white socks. He pauses in front of you, and then finally, slowly, bends down and picks the camera up.

He’s no longer wearing his yellow jumper. Instead he has a blue hoodie with perfectly even strings, the hood pulled up over his head. He stares blankly at you. There is a dark red bruise swelling across his right eye.

And a thin brown rope tied around his throat, leading to the bed.

You can see, behind him, what was once his angel drawing, now smudged into nothing but chalk.

Anonymous asked: Red? It's okay. We know Blue broke the rules, but he's already been punished for it. He should be allowed upstairs now, right? Can you help him up?

“I know he’s been punished,” whispers Red. He sets one booted foot on the second stair. “I’ve just… spent a lot of time in the basement.”

He takes another step, his mouth trembling. “But he… he looked after me… so now I… now I… I can do this, I can do this. I’m big brother, I’m in charge, I have to look after them. Me, me, no one else will do it. He looked after me, now I look after him.”

Anonymous asked: red please help the baby

“Here,” whispers Red, stepping down into the basement. “Here, I’m here, it’s okay.”

“Are you really you?” cries Marvin, slumped against the concrete wall. “Is that you, is that my - my - ”

“It’s just Red,” he says, wearily. “Try to calm down. Come on, let’s get you upstairs.”

“No, no, you’re - you’re hurt, you can’t carry me.”

Red crouches down beside him and carefully brushes a streak of blood from his cheek, stroking his thumb down his beard. Marvin falls silent, staring up at him, suddenly calmed by what he sees.

Maybe he’s not Jackie entire, but… there’s still so much of him left.

“We’ll do it together,” offers Red. “Okay?”

“Okay,” whispers Marv, swallowing tears. “Okay.”

Red moves to his side and hooks a careful arm around his waist. Together, they rise to their feet, and stumble towards the stairs, suspended in a tense survivalist’s trust, the old taste of brotherhood lingering somewhere in the air between them.

Anonymous asked: Oh, Dap... How are you feeling, buddy?

Dapper blinks at you. For a second, there is a harsh anger in the lines of his face, and then a bizarre cheerfulness, and then confusion, and finally a very quiet sorrow. His eyes are dull. He doesn’t answer you, just takes you to the window and sets you back on the sill, like he did yesterday. You see him settle down beside you, staring out at the open sky, where birds are circling, but none of them come down to him. He cries without emotion on his bruised face and waits for night time, even though he knows no one will come to hold him now. At least later he can show you whatever it was he wanted to play “I, Spy” with.

Anonymous asked: Thank you, Red. All of you look out for each other, that's why you're brothers. You did a really good thing.

“Oh,” he stammers, staring at you. A smile flickers across his mouth. “Oh, I did good? Oh, yeah, well.” He straightens up proudly, shrugging. “Well, I - I always do, of course. Of course. I did really good, I did a really good thing.”

He nods to himself and returns his attention to his brother, lying beside him. Marvin has gone very slack in his hands, staring blankly up at the ceiling, his pupils blown wide.

“Hey,” murmurs Red, touching his cheek. Marvin doesn’t answer. His breathing comes thin and ragged. “Hey, Blue.”

He glances at you, then back at his twin, biting his lip. “Hey, I’m just going to put you to sleep, okay?” he offers gently, brushing his fingers over his head. Marvin whimpers distantly, his eyes rolling a little.

Red fetches the same sedative he was given last night and preps it carefully, grateful that he remembered to restock first aid the other week. He slides the needle into Marvin’s arm with a practiced hand and draws it out again, swiping away the blood that rises with gentle hands. And then, moments later, peace. Marvin is asleep.

Red stares at him for a long moment.

It’s so strange. So impossible, how someone can be so familiar and so strange at the same time. He spent long months hating him, this last annoyance they just couldn’t track down, but now he’s just…

Red rubs his face, trying to keep it together. He’s just been lonely for a really long time.

He gets to work stitching his twin up. Twins look after each other. Brothers look after each other. Blue looks after him, and he looks after Blue.

He’s gentle with him. Almost makes him laugh. In all the time he’s been Red, he knows that there is no one in the whole world who would have described him as gentle until this very moment.

musical-in-theory asked: (To all of them) “David”

Dok and Trick glance at you askew; Dapper frowns. Red dismisses it as a glitch and ignores you, stitching up Marvin’s arm.

musical-in-theory asked: Funny how barely anyone bats an eye at a name like David, but to other names Like Henrik or Jackie, it’s a whole other story. Almost like those names mean something more...

All three of the younger boys wince at the sound of those two names, not just taken aback but in fact reaching up to cover their ears. “Ugh, what the fuck?” grumbles Trick, slapping the side of the camera. “Some kind of interference or something. That’s a horrible fucking screech. Sorry, what did you say? What’s a whole other story?”

But Jackie, stitching up a deep cut on Marvin’s stomach, only gives you a dark glare, warning in his sharp blue eyes.

Anonymous asked: Hey Marv? Do you need a hug? I hope you’re ok. You’ll be fine. It’ll all be fine. You’re so strong and I believe in you.

“A hug,” mumbles Marvin, mostly unconscious. His body is numb, but this hardly settles his mind. He laughs softly, trying to stay awake, feeling warm. “Mmh, long time since I’ve had a hug, yeah. Yeah, I could use one. Thank you, I… I’m going to try and believe you.”

He blinks slower and slower, staring up at the wooden slats of the ceiling. He’s drifting quickly off. It feels nice. But before he goes, he could swear there is a second where someone leans in close, and pulls him to their chest, and hugs him very softly.

His fingers cling to the fabric of Red’s hoodie. He falls asleep.

immabethehero asked: Poppalazzi!!!!!

“Pop, pop, pop,” Trick mimics, sliding around, bored, on the bench of the laundromat. “Poppalazziiii. Dok-dok, when’s the laundry done? This is dull!”

He drags the last word out dramatically, flopping down on his brother’s lap and grinning at you. He’s a lot looser when he’s not at home. There’s nobody else in this laundromat. Just him and his Dok. He loves the laundromat.

Anonymous asked: it's okay baby. can you tell us what anti did? it looks like he hit you in the face. did he hit you anywhere else?

Carver blinks and reaches up to touch his face, only to draw his fingers quickly away, startled by the pain. Suddenly cognizant of it, he tumbles back onto the bed and lies there, confused. “Who hit me?” he asks, tilting his head at you. “Not Anti. Look, Anti gave me my blue hoodie. I love my blue hoodie.” He hugs himself, rocking slightly on the bed. “Anti says I’m his bluebird.”

He winces slightly and begins patting around his body, alerted to more pain. You see his eyes well up with tears and he hisses through his teeth, lifting up his hoodie to find bruises across one side of his body. He stops using his right arm, rocking harder now, confused.

“It’s okay, baby,” he signs to himself, sinking back on the bed, crying. “It’s okay, baby, it’s okay. It’s okay, baby brother.”

Anonymous asked: carver, he tied you up, see? i'm so sorry he hurt you like that. poor boy, do you need anything?

Carver reaches up, confused, to touch his throat, and finds the rope. Instantly, a switch is thrown; the stiffness and sorrow flies out of him and he is nothing but humiliated, jerking away from you with a gasp. His cheeks flame red and he drags himself away from the bed, yanking desperately against the rope. You hear a rough choking gasp, something like a scream, and he does it again and again, thrashing on the rope, tearing at his hair.

“No, no, no!” he weeps. “Not again, not again, I don’t know what I did! I hate it, I hate it, stop that!”

And then he stops short, falling hard to the ground, staring blankly at the wall. His hands fall away from the rope and he goes quiet again, and very still, clicking his tongue gently in his mouth. The blood drains from his cheeks and his face calms. “Poor boy,” he signs distantly. “Poor boy, poor… I wish my bird would come see me. I wish I had my charcoal… I wish…”

He tilts his head oddly and sits, breathing, raking his nails very slowly across the floorboards.

Anonymous asked: Carver, do you know what's going on? What all do you remember?

“Never remember anything,” he signs, almost too slow for you to read. “Everything’s just…”

He reaches up and moves his hand through the air like he’s conducting a symphony only he can hear. He closes his eyes, click click clicking his tongue. His free hand reaches into his hoodie pocket and stays there.

“Everything is now and then and yesterday. I can’t keep track.” He lets his head fall back slightly and startles at the sensation of the rope digging against his throat. He grabs it and looks up at you, stunned. “Why am I tied up? What did I do? Oh, no, no, please! No, I don’t want - ”

But now he stops again, stilling. His gaze is fixed on the window outside.

His mouth falls open in a gentle “oh” and he points up at the window.

Night has fallen and everything is quiet. You can’t see what he’s looking at, but you can see the brightness returned to his eyes.

“That’s what I wanted to show you,” he says, breathing deep and relaxing. He gets up to sit on the bed again. “That was you, wasn’t it? Pretty, isn’t it? I spy, with my little eye…. midnight dancing in the lovely sky.”

This post was reblogged with comments from ari-trash reading “the stars?” and spicydanhowell reading “is it birdy??”

“Oh, good guesses, good guesses. You’re all so clever, you’re all so warm. But no, no, look, even better…”

He lifts you up to the window.

“I spy with my little eye… aurora borealis.”

Above the trees, the sky is alight with movement, fine swirling colors, electric and breathing across the stars. Carver stares up at them in silence, his hand resting on top of the camera. There is no twitching or confusion in his face, no distress, nothing numb or dead. He looks calm. He brushes hair from his eyes and pulls his hood off, breathing deep the night air.

Downstairs, Trick keeps watch, staring up at what he can see of the northern lights. Soft shifting upstairs tells him he is not the only at watch, and he spares a moment of - not pity, maybe, but a moment of sameness, a moment of understanding, for the little brother he never sees.

“I’m not so lonely or so scared with the lights in the sky,” says Jameson Jackson. “Even if I am being tortured and tied up like a dog. And I’m not so lonely or so scared when I’m with you. So… thank you. I try very hard to keep track of who I am and what’s happening to me, but time seems to move like northern lights these days, swaying, swirling, changing… disappearing again as soon as morning comes.”

He puts his chin down on the window sill, closing his eyes.

“I think I saw Marvin today,” he signs gently. “But maybe that was just a dream… I dream of him often… I dream of everything that was, and is no longer, but soon enough it all slips away again, and I am alone, or worse than alone, because Jameson stops existing, and then I do not even have myself to keep me company.”

You sit up with him a long time. Eventually, he falls asleep. And morning breaks, bright and cold and clear, and Carver wakes up alone.

 florenceisfalling asked: trick, what do you usually stay on lookout for? like,,, who ever comes out there anyway?

Trick startles, turning to stare at you in astonishment. “Fuck, it’s crazy how you don’t know. I mean, good question, right, who would come up here? Sometimes kids or hikers or dogs and shit, yeah. But you don’t need a military grade sniper for that.”

He sighs and looks back out at his window, stroking his gun.

“You weren’t here the last time we got found,” he says. His voice suddenly wavers and he coughs, swallowing. “Red didn’t clean up after a murder or a theft or something, and we nearly lost everything right then. They almost dragged him off to jail - not that I would have cared, I mean, I - I wouldn’t, okay? But the worse part was that Dok - ”

He’s asleep at his side. It’s late and Trick’s turn to watch. Trick stares down at him, and then up at you, putting a finger over his mouth. Shhh. He grabs the camera and draws you close, and then, very carefully, draws the blanket back from Doktor’s mouth and shoulders. He can even, with a soft murmur to reassure him, pull his shirt up, revealing a small and almost perfectly circular scar in Doktor’s stomach, deep and white as snow.

Trick draws you away and covers his brother back up again, taking the glasses he fell asleep in off his face as he goes. He avoids his gaze, turning back to the window. His body shakes minutely. Ferocity is etched in the curves of his back. He leaves a hand on Doktor’s shoulder.

Anonymous asked: What happens if you don't have enough, Red? Do you risk stealing or just go without? Where does Anti get the money anyway?

Red draws you closer warily. “Don’t say ‘don’t have enough,’” he whispers, a little afraid. “We, um, we don’t complain around here. Sometimes I steal shit, or Doktor’s pretty good. But Anti doesn’t like it if we draw attention to ourselves.”

Red bites his lip and closes his eyes. “But he also doesn’t like it if I ask for more,” he whispers. “So sometimes, I… I don’t know what to do, I just…”

He wipes at his eyes, turning angrily away from you. “Anyway,” he grumbles. “I don’t know where Anti gets it. He just hands me this hack credit card. So I can’t even hide what I buy from him.”

Realizing what he said, he nearly drops you. “Not that I ever would!” he gasps, nearly waking up Blue beside him. “Not that I would ever - just - I’ve thought about having an emergency supply, in case he - but I don’t, I can’t. I wouldn’t.”

Stressed, he turns you slightly away and huddles closer to Blue.

seagullsausage asked: Didn’t Red mention earlier that Dapper needed meds? What are they for?

“Oh, fuck,” mumbles Red, rubbing at his face. “Um… that’s a long story.” He laughs breathily.

“Few months ago, Dapper went… Dapper had what Anti calls a ‘snap.’ Freaky shit happened, okay? So since then he takes some medicine, I don’t know what, Anti just tells me to pick it up. I think it’s just an anxiety thing. When you’ve got a kid with that much power, losing your mind becomes a little more dangerous.

“But he’s fine now,” he adds hastily. “Anti said so. He’s fine. He won’t snap again.”

Anonymous asked: what happened last time dapper was in the basement? do any of you know? Another anon added: When was the last time Dapper was in the basement. And… why?

Across their two cameras, Red and Trick both flinch.

“Look,” mumbles Red. “Dap’s always had it pretty good, but used to be when he got too far out of hand, Anti would take him down in the basement just like the rest of us. But something happened, and now Anti’s usually… gentler with him. That kid is a goddamn cosmos, that’s all I’m saying about it.”

But Trick scoffs, shakes his head, looks you right in the eye and says, “Yeah. That was when he was losing his fucking mind.”

He readjusts as though he’s done talking, but reconsiders, his voice a little loud. “And hey, far, far be it from me to criticize Anti - I love him, I trust him, he always does what’s best for us - but that night….

“The basement didn’t help. That’s all I’m saying.”

Trick shivers and tightens his grip on his gun.

“The basement did not help.”

This was it for the irl night, so there is a skip to morning.

Anonymous asked: doktor, do you know what happened to carver? when he "snapped"?

Doktor’s eating a granola bar, sitting up on the stairs, looking clean and healthy and surrounded by freshly washed blankets. He blinks at you and then laughs slightly. “Fuck, were you all talking about that horrible incident last night? Poor little boy. ‘Snapped,’ ha. It was a nervous episode, that’s all.”

He pauses, his eyes fogging over slightly. “Mind you, I don’t remember most of it… Nightmares and confusion and paranoia, and his hands reaching out for things that weren’t really there… but, anyway, I helped Anti calm him down and prescribed some medicine, and now he’s okay. So no need to worry about that. It won’t happen again. Poor little thing, you’ve never seen a young man so scared.”

spicydanhowell asked: so then... what happened to carver in the basement last time? what did he even do wrong that got him there?

“He was acting very strangely,” says Doktor, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to recall. “I believe he struck Anti, or attempted to, and this was what caused him to be brought to basement. I don’t remember what happened after that, except that… I felt very strange and many things changed around me.”

“Dok,” calls Trick sleepily. “Don’t talk about this, it stresses you out. You’ll work yourself up again.”

Doktor blinks and then frowns, curling slightly in on himself. “Don’t work myself up,” he grumbles, crumpling up his granola bar wrapper.

“Yes, you do,” growls back Trick. “And then guess who has to spend the whole day calming you down again?”

Doktor blushes bright red and and turns away from him with a scowl on his face, crossing his arms and mumbling about how no one has to do anything for him, he’s fine, doesn’t need some little marksman babying him as if he -

“Dok,” snaps Trick.

The pair falls into irritable silence.

Anonymous asked: Anti... What now? Are you even home at the moment or are you out and about doing whatever it is you do?

Words flicker across your screen again.

“I’m home,” says Anti.

But your viewpoint is across the main room, and you don’t see him. Just Doktor sitting on the stairs that lead to the nest, eating breakfast, and Trick, nocturnal, settling in for a nap a few feet away. Marvin and Red are lying in their corner, stirring.

Marvin comes to with a groan, turning on his side and ending up closer to Red, practically pressed against his body. Red opens his eyes and smiles at him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and beginning to carefully rub his back, avoiding a gash low on the back of his throat. Marvin shivers and opens sleepy eyes, staring back at him.

A warm swell of affection rises him. He spends a few minutes letting Red rub his back, assured by the simple brotherhood of it. This is something they could have done when the world was right and they were still together. How can Anti even say that Red is his? This is just Marvin’s Jackie. He daydreams sleepily about the day they’ll escape, and bring all their little brothers with them, and go back to living well. Jackie isn’t lost to him after all.

“I missed you so much,” whispers Marvin, snuggling in closer to his chest. “I’m glad we’re together again, even if it’s like this.”

“Ah, what a sweet little kitty. I love you too, Blue.”

Marvin freezes.

Looks up.

Black eyes.

Red’s grip adjusts on the back of his throat, holding him tightly down. Marvin is too afraid to whimper.

“What’s the matter, little one?” asks Anti, smiling at him. “Come on, let’s just relax. Let’s have a nice lie-in.”

“Are you - ” Marvin has to swallow to make his throat work. “Are you going to torture me again?”

“No, no, darling, you haven’t done anything wrong, have you?” Anti resumes rubbing his back. “Let’s just have a nice quiet morning. Put your head back against my chest.”

Marvin stares up at him, feeling dizzy.

“Put your head,” repeats Anti, slower. “Back against my chest.”

Marvin puts his shaking head down on Red’s collarbone and tries to keep breathing.

Anonymous asked: Trick, Dok, are you guys seeing this? What's this mean for Red right now??

Trick and Doktor noticed the moment the tension in the room changed. The two of them are often on the receiving end of casual cruelty and they’re attuned to the taste Anti leaves in the air, the slight buzzing of his power, the harsh oil smell. They’re sitting up straight, silent and watchful, eyes wide, scared.

“Is he over there?” whispers Trick.

“He’s wearing Red,” whispers Doktor. He turns to you. “Red will be mostly fine, but - ”

“We’re going on a walk,” says Trick, getting to his feet and grabbing his brother’s arm.

“We’re not allowed to go without telling someone and we - ”

Trick yanks him to his feet and drags him towards the door, his face set. Too much bullshit is going on lately and he is not about to get caught in the crossfire. Blue will have to handle this on his own.

florenceisfalling asked: what if you get in trouble for leaving on a walk without asking?

“Yes, Trick, let’s just hide!” cries Dok, yanking back against his grip. They’re in the yard outside the house. “We haven’t gotten in trouble yet! This is just because you don’t like it when Anti - ”

“Shut up!” screams Trick, and he grabs his other shoulder and he shakes him, hard. “Shut up, you’re going to get us killed!”

Doktor gasps and reasserts himself, standing straight. “You’re the one who’s going to get us killed cause you’re so scared of possession that you can’t - ”

Trick grabs Doktor by the hair and ignores the little scream he gives, dragging him into the woods, casting fearful glances back at the house, until at last it is gone from his view. He pants hard, his eyes wild, but not black. Not black. He’s fine. Doktor’s fine. This is fine.

Doktor gives a choked whine and then falls into silence, pulled along beside him.

Anonymous asked: Hang in there, Marvin! It's okay. You're surviving, that's all that matters. Anti will leave soon and you'll have Jackie back. Just hold out until he's done.

“Right,” whispers Marvin, choking on his own panic. “Right, right, right. Just… just hold out.”

Anti takes his chin in his hand and tilts his head up, and Marvin is sinking almost immediately, the second he meets his swirling eyes, dizzy and confused.

“Mmh,” hums Anti, stroking a hand through his hair. “There we go.”

Marvin can’t breathe. Marvin can’t look away.

“How long do you think you could stay like this?” asks Anti gently. His fingers are very nice across his scalp. Marvin’s eyes begin to droop, but Anti tilts his chin back up and strokes his cheek, keeping him focused. “I’ll give you a hint - I once, in reward for the first time he called Henrik ‘Doktor,’ hypnotized Chase for more than twenty-four hours. It was exhausting, but so fucking worth it - he hasn’t said his name or Henrik’s since. Turned out to be a little much for him, actually. He went into a complete hysteria and then just - flopped. Like a real puppet, haha! He couldn’t do a thing without a command. I think he hardly breathed. Wouldn’t let go of me. Wept for me.”

Anti sighs and draws Marvin right to his chest, knocking their foreheads together.

“Here is the truth, Blue,” he says. “I love nothing better than the five of you. But by the end of the day I was born, you had already been turned against me. It wasn’t fair! No one would stay with me. No one would let me in, or even say my name. But I am Jack too and he can’t just keep you away from me.”

His voice breaks in a snarl and he grips Marvin’s shirt tightly, pricking at stitched up cuts along his body.

“You’re my big brother. I’ve missed you. I’ve wanted you. Please, stay with me,” he whispers. “Stay here with me, where you belong. Be mine, be your brother’s. Stay with me.”

A wave of pity rushes over Marvin like a tidal wave; he is drowning in it. Suddenly he is affectionate - bizarrely affectionate, he’s never been very touchy-feely - and he wraps his arms around Anti’s shoulders and throws himself against his body, holding him close, close, close. He is warm and soft and he looks like Red. Fuck, what was he so afraid of all this time? Of this, of living with Anti? Of this feeling of being loved, so overwhelming it hurts? Of seeing all his family again? This was where he was always meant to be.

“It’s okay, Anti,” whispers Blue, buried in his shoulder. “It’s okay, little brother. I’ll stay. I’ll stay.”

And he nearly faints from the joy the words give him - or maybe from the blood he lost last night, when the person who is holding him now cut him nearly dry.

“I love you,” murmurs Anti, stroking his hair. Humming a distant song about the birds flying home in the springtime.

“I love you too,” promises Blue, slack in his grip. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“You won’t say that tomorrow,” sighs Anti. “But, eventually, I will make it stick in this little brain of yours - you belong to me. And you’re staying right here with me, until time itself has ended.”

oasisofgalaxies asked: Marvin!! No, you can’t let him work into your brain! He’s got you wrapped around his pinky finger, you gotta cut the strings! Don’t forget! Don’t forget Marvin!!

Blue blinks and shudders, drawing slightly back. Anti tightens his grip on his shoulders. “No, wait,” Marvin pants, shrinking away. “No, no, wait, Anti, please. I’m not - ”

“But you are!” Anti grabs his chin, harshly now, and drags his head up. Marvin screams and closes his eyes, trying to look away. “Open your eyes, Blue.”

Fuck, fuck, something has happened, something has changed - he feels like he can’t control his own head, his own face, he is looking back, why can’t he keep looking away?

“You want to look at me, you know you do. Look at Master like a good boy.”

Blue’s eyes flash open and fixate on Anti’s again, and he shivers hard, nearly choking on all the things that it makes him feel, all the love and warmth and joy and confusion and the subtle wrongness that sits beneath everything and fails to draw him out again.

“There you go, sweetheart,” purrs Anti. “There you go.”

“Anti,” breathes Blue, staring up at him with pupils over-large. “I d-don’t understand what’s happening.”

“I know, kitten, I’m sorry about that. Really I am. It can be painful at first. I know it feels strange, and I know other things start to slip away. I know things get forgotten. But you just have to hold on to me and eventually it will all turn out okay. It’s just going to be a rough couple days as you adjust, okay? Don’t be scared. The memories you lose aren’t important anyway. And I’ve got you. I’m watching out for you. Okay?”

Blue blinks slowly, trying to figure out what it is they were talking about. All he knows is that he feels warm and well and cared for. “Okay,” he says, nodding.

He grins up at his little brother and relaxes, blinking his fatigue away. His body is so tired, but he doesn’t remember why. Oh, well. It hardly matters now.

Anonymous asked: Uh so how long are you going to keep him like that, Anti?

Anti glances at you, and then back down at Blue, staring dizzily up at him.

“I don’t want to overwhelm him,” he says. “Maybe just a little while today. And then there’s this wonderful afterimage that remains even after I’m gone, where he can just sit, high on this power. Red too. I would do the same thing with Doktor and Trickshot all the time when they were still learning. Possess one, hypnotize the other, leave them to ride through it together. It’s good for them. I need to make sure they look out for each other. With what I have planned for them, they can’t afford to not have each other’s backs.”

He looks down at Blue, warm in his arms.

“And I don’t plan to lose either one of them,” he murmurs.

Anonymous asked: Marvin, you cant give up yet. please remember! you cant fade away into Blue, think of your brothers. You cant help them if you also have forgotten who you are. Please, don't leave us. Please remember!

Anti growls, reaching up to push the camera farther away from them, curling in on Blue’s body. “Why do none of you understand?” he snarls. “You want him to keep fighting? Can’t you see how long he’s been alone? Touch-starved, thin, pale, exhausted - I found him on the fucking streets, trying to live completely disconnected from the rest of the world, so no one can find him. Is that what you think freedom is? He’ll be happier here. You want him to hold on to the miserable little person he used to be, all on his own? If you want him to keep fighting, say the word.” Anti draws a knife from Red’s hoodie, baring his teeth at you. “And I will punish him accordingly.”

Blue whimpers and hides his face in Anti’s chest.

Anonymous asked: What DO you have planned that requires then to be in pairs? Is it just for security?

“Pairs are important for lots of reasons,” he says. “Comfort, care, attention, affection. Touch, company, time, self-esteem. Balance, watch-guard, hierarchy, threat.”

He gazes between Red’s hands and Blue’s, looped around his waist.

“Threat perhaps most importantly,” he murmurs, smiling at you. “Threat and report. But in my plans for Red and Blue - yes, security and safety, trust in a brother who watches your back. How else will they get through their missions?”

musical-in-theory asked: You know what they say about plans, don’t you Anti? How they always fall apart... so fuck you.

“Plans can fall apart. And then my little time traveler picks the pieces back up again… and I win. Over and over and over. What do I have to fear?”

musical-in-theory asked: Fear their bond. Something that you will never have, Artificer. They outnumber you and the minute you test their bond, that’s when their love for each other will drown you in your own murky depths. Fuck (and I cannot stress this enough) you.

“Fuck - and I cannot stress this enough - ” Anti bursts into laughter. “That’s funny!”

He sighs contentedly and relaxes back against Red’s sleeping bag, soaking in stray afternoon sunlight. After a minute, he runs his hands through a dozing Blue’s long dark hair, and tilts his chin up to face him.

“I’m going to let you come down from this now,” he tells him gently.

“Oh, no,” whines Blue, curling up against his stomach. “No, stay here with me.”

“I don’t want you to get sick.”

“But, Anti, I don’t feel good already, can’t you watch over me?”

“Red’s going to watch you.”

“Anti…”

Anti giggles and brushes his hair from his eyes. “Stop fussing. I have to go work anyway. Say, ‘okay, Anti.’“

“Okay, Anti,” grumbles Blue.

Anti kisses the top of his head fondly and he simpers childishly, practically purring. “There’s a good boy. Get some rest.”

A flicker across the screen, a moment of darkness. When your vision returns, Red is collapsed across his sleeping bag, shaking hard but still holding Blue close to his chest.

“Red?” asks Blue sleepily. “Are you okay?”

Red stammers and closes his eyes against a wave of pain. “I don’t know,” he stammers, his head swimming. His whole body feels… wrong, but he shouldn’t be scared. He should be used to this by now. He shouldn’t be crying. Stop, stop. He needs something else to focus on. “Are you?”

Blue blinks, hugging his waist. “I don’t know,” he admits, softly.

Red pushes away from him. Hurt by the rejection, Blue curls in on himself on the sleeping bag, and they fall into silence, both overwhelmed and exhausted.

Anonymous asked: Are trick and doctor still on their walk? When are you guys planning to come back?

Trick and Doktor have come to a stop higher up in the mountains. Red and brown leaves flicker through the air and falter to the ground only to be crunched under sneakers and boots. Trick is standing towards the sea, his hands shoved in his pockets, chewing anxiously on his lip, sniffling through quiet tears. A few feet away, Doktor sits on the ground beside a big pine tree, his knees drawn up to his chest and his eyes fixed on the ground. A leaf comes and hits the side of his head and he doesn’t bother to reach up and take it out of his hair.

“I’m sorry,” calls Trick, after a long moment, swallowing hard. “I didn’t mean to grab you too rough.”

Doktor doesn’t answer or look up. His face is very blank. Trick’s not sure he heard him.

“We can head back in a minute,” calls Trick, gently.

But this doesn’t reach Dok either.

Anonymous asked: Red is back. Trick and Dok, where are you?

“Dok,” calls Trick, turning to him. He wipes the tears off his face and heads closer to his brother. “Hey, man, did you hear them? Red’s free. Him and Blue probably need you. Should we go back, man?”

Doktor stares at the leaves on the ground. His eyes are a very clear blue beneath his cracked glasses.

“Dok,” cries Trick, frustrated. “Come on, buddy, please? Don’t get like this on me. I’m sorry, okay, I shouldn’t have - ”

He rubs his face, guilt choking in his throat.

“I’m really sorry, Deutsch, talk to me.”

musical-in-theory asked: Trick what do you think will happen if you go back to the house with Dok like this after you both “ran away”?

“It’s not like that,” stammers Trick, beginning to look a little panicked. “We go out for walks all the time, we just - we’re just supposed to ask Red. And I - him like this - I’ll get him out of this, okay! Fuck, just don’t - don’t tell Anti and we can sneak back without getting noticed! Don’t threaten us! It’s fine. It’s fine. You’re going to scare my brother! It’s okay, Dok-dok, it’s okay.” He bites down hard on his lip and rakes a hand through his hair, shaking.

immabethehero asked: Don't forget the drinks! You'll need to stay hydrated!

“The drinks - yeah, thanks for reminding me, I need to fill up the jug. Yes. Okay. I can do that. Get some water in him and… yeah. Yeah. This is fine. Okay. The stream’s just over here, I’ll go fill the jug up. Okay, Dok?”

He touches his brother’s shoulder and finds him trembling. With a sigh, Trick pulls himself to his feet and walks away to fill up the canteen he carries with him.

Doktor does not look at you or anything. He stares at the ground. You see his mouth moving minutely, like he’s mumbling something.

Anonymous asked: Hey... Dok? Can you hear us..?

Doktor reaches up slowly to touch his hair. His scalp hurts. Someone grabbed him by the hair.

His hands twitch.

loganandoli asked: Doktor? Are you ok? What are you saying?

Turning up your volume, you can make out a string of low German babbling, soft and steady. He stares at the ground.

Anonymous asked: Dok... it's alright. You're safe with Trick, n' now you can go back and be safe with the rest of your brothers.

“Safe,” he whispers, so soft you barely hear it.

Rage and terror contort his face. With shaking hands, he reaches into his pocket, his fingers curling and his mouth locked in a snarl, his eyes still dead, fixed, unseeing, on the ground in front of him. He’s breathing very fast.

Anonymous asked: When was the last time trick was possessed?

Trick whimpers, turning his gaze away from you. He grips his hands tightly shut and shakes his head, hard. After a long moment, he manages to whisper “couple months ago. Bad… bad night.”

He dips his canteen in the mountain spring and tries to recollect himself, rubbing the tears from his eyes and taking deep, shaky breaths.

musical-in-theory asked: Or you could just stay away for a little while longer. Wouldn’t that be nice? A little more fresh air might be good for the doctor. You could go back to the laundromat or maybe to a park. There’s so many wonderful things out here.

Trick sighs, twisting down the lid of the canteen and turning to make his way back towards Doktor. “Yes,” he grumbles. “Obviously that would be nice. And we could just walk around and not… not worry about who was watching.”

His sneakers crunch through the leaves. There is a sudden sorrow in his eyes, one he rarely shows to anyone, except, of course, his Doktor.

“I’m really tired,” he says.

There’s a shuffling in the leaves in front of him and he looks up with relief to see Doktor getting on his feet. He smiles wearily at his brother and makes his way closer, giving him that look you’ve seen before - the silent question, the check-in, “I’m okay, are you?”

Doktor is not okay.

Trick doesn’t have time to be afraid before Doktor grabs him by the throat.

“Dok!” screams Trick, and then he is choking.

“Schlag mich nicht,” whispers Doktor. His voice shakes, but only a little. His tone is firm and hateful. “Schlag mich nicht.”

“Dok!” gasps Trick. “Please!”

Doktor slams him back against a tree and his head collides hard with the bark. He scrambles at Doktor’s hands, not yet willing to attack his face like he knows he should.

“Schlag mich nicht! Sag mir nicht was ich tun sull!”

“English, please,” begs Trick, kicking at his feet, gasping. “Ich spreche kein Deutsch!”

Doktor drops him abruptly to the ground, but Trick doesn’t have time to be relieved; Doktor grabs his hair just as tight as he did earlier and yanks his head off the ground, making him yelp, his eyes filling up with tears. “You don’t get to grab me, you don’t get to drag me around - ”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” shrieks Trick. Doktor pulls his hand out from his coat pocket and with it comes a syringe with a needle as long as a finger; Trick screams as it is shoved up against his throat.

“Where’s Trick?” screams Doktor. “Where’s Trick, where is he, I want him! I want my little brother!”

“It’s me, it’s me! Please, please! No, no, no, Doktor, I’m scared, it’s me, I’m sorry, you’re my older brother, you’re smarter than me, you’re better than me, I’m small and I’m stupid, please don’t hurt me, I can’t take a beating from you too, please, please, please, I love you.”

He dissolves into sobbing, gripping desperately at Doktor’s hands.

“Please, it’s just one of your episodes, but no one’s trying to hurt you, no one needs an operation, you didn’t fail anyone, it’s just me, I’m right here, please…”

Doktor is breathing so fast and so thin that he is beginning to look blue. He clutches the collar of Trick’s jacket in shaking hands.

Finally he drops Trick to the ground and straightens up, staring out at the ocean, his eyes closed, trying to breathe.

“Where am I?” whispers Henrik, clutching at his head. “Where am I, what… what’s happening to me? I’m losing my mind…”

At his feet, Trick cries until he cannot breathe.

Anonymous asked: Henrik? Henrik is it you? Not Doktor, is it you? Henrik? Schneep? If it is you, you scared Chase badly, he doesn’t remember he’s Chase. Schneep, Henrik. If you remember, you have to help him.

Trick groans at the horrible shrieking that covers up the names, cowering down in the leaves. Henrik, for his part, only stares distantly at you, confused.

“I don’t remember anything… I don’t… I never remember anything, though…”

“Dok, please,” Trick begs through sobs. “This is just one of your episodes, you know you get confused, please, you’ll draw Anti’s attention and he’ll hurt you!”

“Trick,” mumbles Doktor, sinking to his knees. He grips at his hair.

musical-in-theory asked: Oh Henrik! Scheisse! We get one back but we lose another. Schneep you gotta work fast. You and your brothers have been under Anti’s influence for a long time now. He has Marvin. You gotta get away.

Trick and Doktor both groan, shaking their heads at the terrible ringing. Glitches flicker over your screen, and for a moment, everything is very dark, the afternoon sun shadowed by a black filter. Movement in the trees behind them - a silhouette emerging from the trees.

The boys look up together, shocked out of tears.

“Anti?” whispers Trick, in a voice that shakes.

Anti steps towards them. In fact, Anti hurries towards them, and there is not anger or violence in his face, just concern. He looks human. His hair is pulled back into a small bun. “Dok? Trick? What are they talking to you about? Asking you stupid questions? Are you guys okay?”

He falls to his knees beside them. There is, for a second, a terrible tension - and then Anti whispers “hey, hey,” and draws Trick in for a hug with one arm, reaching out to pet Doktor’s head with his other hand. “Something upset you, what’s wrong? You didn’t tell me you were going somewhere, I got scared…”

Doktor sobs and falls against his shoulder, wrapping his arms around his waist. Likewise, Trick just buries his face in his shoulder and shakes.

Anti looks up at you and the worry and concern falls away. He glares. His eyes are black. His canines poke out of his mouth. And then he turns back towards his pets, calm again, only anxious for them, the picture of affectionate fear.

Anonymous asked: Hey, Chase, it’s ok, it’s gonna be fine. Take a few deep breaths, maybe that will help? Seven seconds in, seven out. It works for me. Maybe focus on the ocean too. What color is it? What does it sound like? Is it calm or stormy?

Trick shudders against Anti’s shoulder, trying to breathe.

“That’s good advice,” mumbles Anti, playing with his hair. “That’s good advice, do what they tell you.”

Obedient, Trick tries to breathe slow and deep, clinging to Anti’s shirt, looking up at you with tear-stained eyes. Truth be told, he’s still waiting for the moment Anti will snap and decide to punish him and Dok for leaving, but for now, all he can do is hope that he’s okay, and think about anything else.

“The ocean,” he stammers. “Is calm today - is bright, is blue, is moving like it’s breathing. I can’t hear it from here, but when I go down to it, it sloshes back and forth in this low rushing breath… When it was warmer, Doktor would roll up his pants and stand in the water for hours…”

“There, okay,” whispers Anti. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. Deutsch, how about you? Huh? Baby, can you look at me?”

But Doktor has retreated into his own head again, staring blankly at the leaves, clutching the shattered syringe in his fingers. Anti murmurs reassurances against the side of his head and gently pulls broken glass away from his limp fingers. “Did they upset you, big brother? Wasn’t that cruel of them? Don’t they know you get sick? Poor thing.”

Anonymous asked: trick, please don't do anything stupid. it's going to be okay. and- how's marvin?

“I already did something stupid,” he sobs, hiding from Anti’s gaze. “Anti, I - I did something stupid. It wasn’t them, it was me. I grabbed his hair, I got scared. I dragged him away from the house. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Please hurt me, not him, it’s my fault!”

“Hey, hey,” cries Anti, taking his face in his hands and trying to get him to look up. “Calm down, it’s okay. I saw you go. I know that it scares you sometimes, when I need a body. Right?”

“Yes, Anti, I’m sorry, I’m a coward, I didn’t mean - ” He can hardly breathe through tears.

“It’s okay to get scared sometimes. It’s okay. I should have made sure you were okay before I put Red on. I’ll remember that next time, alright? What’s this about you grabbing his hair?”

“I tried to drag him away from the house,” sniffles Trick.

“And he let you?” asks Anti, his voice suddenly sharper.

“No, no - I mean, I dragged him away, and then he - it wasn’t his fault, he was scared, Anti, he had one of his episodes!”

“Just tell me what he did,” orders Anti flatly.

Trick chokes on a sob. “He grabbed my throat and - the syringe - he didn’t know, you know he gets confused - ”

Anti sits in thought for a moment, rubbing both of their backs.

Then he laughs.

“He put you in your place, huh?” Anti grabs Trick’s cheek and shoves him playfully onto the ground. “You got a little rough with big brother and he pushed you back? Shit, I always forget how much fire he really has in him. Come on, Trick, don’t cry, it’s okay, poor thing. You had a little scuffle, that’s all. But Doktor knows how to handle you when you’re bad. Put you right back where you belong, just like Red does. Your big brothers know how to keep you on track.”

Trick’s eyes well up with hot tears.

It’s true that Red’s made sure he was aware of his place at the bottom of the pack more than once before.

But Doktor isn’t supposed to be like that.

Doktor’s supposed to be… his.

Was that all this was, just his big brother shoving him back down the ladder? Just revenge for grabbing his hair too tight?

Trick thinks he could throw up. He wishes Anti would hypnotize him. He wishes today had never happened.

“Can we go home?” he whispers.

“Yes,” says Anti, tucking a curl of brown hair behind his ear. “Just promise me you won’t run off again. Okay?”

“Yes, Anti, of course. I’m sorry.”

“I know you are. I know. But twin kept an eye on you, and everything’s okay. Get up, then, little one. Let’s go home.”

Anonymous asked: Anti, Doktor wasn't himself for a moment. Will he be okay?

He turns to you, concerned. “I’m glad you noticed that,” he sighs. “I’d appreciate whatever help you can give me keeping an eye on it. And the name isn’t - look, whatever, I give two fucks about the name, but he gets so goddamn lost sometimes…”

Trick is walking on the path a few feet behind him, his head down and his face red and blotchy. Doktor is kept close under Anti’s arm, still unresponsive, but at least walking. Anti glances over at him and runs a hand over his head.

“He’s had episodes in the past where he would try to stab things. Me included. He’s wild, really, my Doktor. Once woke up Red up in the middle of the night by attempting to sedate him for a surgery he had decided he needed. Fuck, little nightmare. I adore him. It’s my fault, though, you know… fuck, I… I’ve had him do things for me in the past, bloody things, and now sometimes… he freaks out like that.”

He knocks his head against Doktor’s and Doktor looks up slightly, blinking. For a second, they don’t look like anything but brothers. Could just as well be Jack and Henrik out for a walk.

“You need new glasses,” Anti mumbles, tugging gently on his ear, and Doktor, in response, gives him a small, shaky smile.

musical-in-theory asked: Oh go fuck yourself Anti.

Doktor looks up, something flashing through his eyes. “Don’t talk to him like that,” he rasps, his mouth twitching, first with a frown, then with a snarl.

Anti smiles at you, petting the back of his head.

Anonymous asked: Not really a question for any of the boys, more for the mod, but what are we? Are we just a bunch of cameras or..?

Yes and no. For my purposes I like to describe you as someone looking in through a camera, but you don’t have to imagine it that way. Anti probably does keep cameras on them and around the house, but in most scenes if I’m talking about a physical camera, it’s just for the literary function it serves. Clearly it’s not limited to the camera view, because we see them through an omniscient viewpoint, often talking about the way they’re feeling or what they’re thinking. So I mostly just talk about you being a bunch of cameras cause that’s what works for me. But if you prefer to think you’re there with them or something, that’s okay.

Thanks for asking. Make sense?

Anonymous asked: Dapper you alright by yourself? Things got a bit... hectic outside for a moment. Don't want you feeling too alone though.

Dapper is down on his hands and knees, staring at the floor. He glances up at you, frowning.

“There are flowers,” he says. “Coming out of my floorboards.”

And there are. Crocus. Growing up through the ceiling.

spicydanhowell asked: marv... do you remember what just happened?

Blue grabs the camera off the island and picks you up, swinging in a circle, laughing. “I woke up with Anti! My whole head feels like the ocean when it’s angry! But I feel good! I feel really good, I think I’m high.”

He bursts into laughter. His eyes are very, very blue.

Vines creep up the walls behind him, curling in through Doktor and Trick’s window.

Anonymous asked: Was there always plants growing there? Or does it have... more of a magical feel to it?

Red stares at you, looking mildly panicked. “These were not here before,” he whispers, turning you around to see a floor littered in heavy white roses. “These are not… normal.”

You can hear Blue rambling on the other side of the room.

Anonymous asked: M A G I C flowers, mayhaps?

“I was not trained for magic flowers!” cries Red. “Blue, what the hell is happening?”

florenceisfalling asked: flowers? marvin/blue, is everything okay?

“Everything’s good! I feel good! I feel great! I feel powerful! Is this what Anti always feels like?”

Blue is standing in Trick and Doktor’s nest, laughing. The sun casts him into golden light. He’s wearing a pair of Red’s sweatpants and a white t-shirt. Through it, you can see heavy bandaging, but he doesn’t move like he’s injured.

“Blue,” cries Red, worried. “Sit down and let’s figure this out, please.”

“What are you so worried about?” giggles Blue, turning to him with arms spread wide. Blood swells through the cloth of his shirt and stains it red. “Isn’t Anti your little puppetmaster? Aren’t you happy to see me like this? Aren’t you happy, Red?”

Red has gone pale; his eyes flicker across the rapidly blooming flowers with a low anxiety in his eyes.

Anonymous asked: Oh god, I hope blue won't be in trouble...

Red clutches at his hair, hurrying towards Blue on the other side of the room, though he rarely crosses into Trick and Doktor’s territory.

“Come down,” he urges, grabbing Blue’s hands. “Come on, come down. I don’t know how Anti will react to seeing this. You need to come down and let’s - let’s tear these up.”

“Tear up my flowers?” whines Blue. “Why, why?”

“You’re - Blue, I think you’re hurting yourself, you’re high. It’s okay, let’s just take a break, okay?”

Blue groans, throwing his head back. “No, no, no, I feel good - I feel good - I feel good, I don’t want to hurt anymore.”

“You’re bleeding, bud.”

“Bud?” Blue blinks and startles, staggering slightly amid Trick and Doktor’s blankets. “Bud?”

Red glances at you, then back at Blue. “Um, yeah. Bud. Are you doing okay?”

Marvin’s face has gone very white. He stares at Red, beginning to feel ill. “Been a long time since you called me bud,” he mumbles, staring at him.

Anonymous asked: red, make him sit down. he's going to crash at some point and it won't be pretty. the euphoria will wear off and he'll be humiliated

“Fuck,” hisses Red. “You’re right, I - Blue?”

Marvin’s crumpling to his knees, his hands clutching at the bloody cut beneath his arm. “No, no, no,” he groans, shaking his head. “No, no, I feel good.”

Red grabs him as he shakes his way to his knees, scooping him into his arms like he weighs nothing. He’s thin and trembling in his grip, and Red ignores the confused cry that he gives, turning around to haul him back behind the island.

“You need to lie down,” he commands, setting his twin on the bag.

“No, no!” shrieks Blue, scratching at his bandages. “No, I feel good! I don’t know what’s happening! Where’s Anti? I want Anti! Go get Anti!”

“Blue, be quiet!” cries Red, panicked. “You could get in trouble, you could get hurt! I don’t know what he’ll think of this! Please, just lie quiet!”

“I don’t want to lose my mind!” Marvin shrieks, gripping at his hair. “I don’t want to lose my mind, I don’t want to be his little whore! I’m not a pet, I’m not a toy! What’s happening to me?”

Red slams his hand down hard on the wood beside Marvin’s head, crushing a violet back into the floorboards.

Blue flinches hard, gasping, and stares up at him. Red leans in close.

“You stay quiet,” he hisses. “So I can keep you safe. I’m not asking. Do you fucking understand me?”

Blue blinks, shaking.

“I don’t have to stick my neck out for you,” snaps Red. “I don’t have to. I don’t know why I care. It’d be so much easier not to care. About you, about Doktor, about Trick. I want so badly to hate you. You have no fucking idea.”

Blue’s eyes well with tears.

“But I can’t. all I can do is keep you as safe as I can. As full as I can. As happy as I can. As obedient as I can, so you don’t all get your idiot asses fucking killed. So lie quiet. Do you understand me?”

Marvin’s mouth trembles. “Yes,” he manages finally. “Yes, okay.”

Red breathes deep, struggling to control his temper. Blue’s face is changing rapidly, euphoric one second, exhausted the next, but he’s stopped yelling and running around, and the flowers are no longer spreading.

“Okay then,” whispers Red.

He touches the side of his face. Blue reaches out to take his hand. Red draws it away.

“Okay.”

spicydanhowell asked: you said you love him marv. is that true?

“L-love who?” Marvin stammers, curling in on himself, clutching at his bandaged ribs. “Who - Anti?”

He tries to breathe, sinking down against his sleeping bag. “Of course,” chokes Blue. “Of course, of course I love him, why - why won’t he come back and hold me again? I don’t feel well… I feel good, I feel so good…”

Anonymous asked: This house has been struck with a bad case of delirium today

Red turns to you, grinning coldly. “You’d be fucking surprised,” he says, his voice shaking. “Just how often that happens.”

Anonymous asked: How’s Marvin, or perhaps Blue, doing back at the house?

Anti stops short on the path outside their house, his grip tightening on Doktor’s shoulder. Doktor blinks and looks up, startled to see grasses grown tall around the walls of the house, flowers bursting up through cracks in concrete and the muddy dirt of the lawn.

“Anti?” asks Trick behind him, fearful. “What’s going on?”

Anti’s eyes flicker as he searches across his cameras.

“Nothing to be worried about,” he murmurs, resuming his calm walk back towards the house. “We’ll just have to figure out how to get a leash on this.”

Trick hurries up beside him and then reach the house together, peering in the open doorway. “Blue?” calls Trick. “Red? What’s going on?”

Red pokes his head up over the island. Anti’s eyes narrow.

“Cat doing okay?” he asks.

“Yes, Anti,” says Red, looking pale.

“Did he do this?”

“The flowers, yes, Anti, I think so.”

“You didn’t stop him.”

“I woke him up, Anti.”

“Woke him up?”

“He did it while he was dreaming. Started tossing and turning and all the flowers came up.”

Anti relaxes slightly, stepping closer to Red and rounding the island, finding Blue stretched out on the sleeping bag, exhausted. “Poor kitty,” he purrs, crouching down beside him. Blue smiles shakily and reaches up to grip his hand. Anti kisses the back of his wrist, humming. “Still mine, baby?”

“Of course, of course…”

“How long did it take the flowers to come up, Red?”

Two minutes, probably. “Bout half an hour, Anti.”

Anti nods, considering. “Okay,” he says, finally. “Blue, I don’t want this happening if you can help it, okay?”

“Okay, Anti,” murmurs Blue, looking ashamed.

“We’ll fix the bad dreams, okay? No more flowers.”

“No more flowers,” whispers Blue, eyes downcast.

Anti gets back to his feet, turning back to his right hand. “I have work to do,” he says. “Don’t disturb me again.”

“Yes, Anti.”

“Dok’s in one of his close-offs. Don’t let him wander or hurt himself.”

“Yes, Anti.”

“And keep a better eye on your twin if you want to keep him.”

Red does not so much as shift. There is no fear in his eyes. He never shows anything to his master.

“Yes, Anti.”

Anti clucks his chin. “Good boy,” he murmurs, and then, with a flash of static glitching, he is gone again.

Doktor and Trick stand in the doorway, staring at the flowers. Red, shaking minutely, falls to his knees and grips at his hair.

Anonymous asked: How many times can Dapper go back and fix things though? Seems like he gets fatigued pretty quickly.

Dapper is picking up the tiny flowers all over his room. He has transitioned from confused to delighted and he is smiling brightly, darting across the room in pursuit of the next flower and carefully pulling it up from the floor. Occasionally, he seems to forget that there’s a rope around his throat, and he’ll trip over it and yank on his throat, which has begun to turn blue as the crocus.

“Why do you ask? Do you need to redo something?”

He jumps onto his bed and begins arranging the flowers he’s collected in careful lines. “Fatigued pretty quickly. I - I get dizzy very often. But please, don’t tell anyone I tire too fast. I’m supposed to be very powerful and big brother doesn’t like it when I can’t go any farther.”

He sighs and pauses in his flower arrangements, grimacing.

“The number of times I can go back changes based on how far back you need me to go. Four hours is usually what Anti asks. I can do that about six times… but I told Anti eight.”

Dapper stares down at his fingers.

“I don’t like to disappoint him.”

Anonymous asked: red, someone needs to be taking care of him while he's hysterical like this. where are trick and doktor?

“Fuck, I should have gone looking for them earlier,” says Red. “Before Anti had to do it. I…didn’t look after them.”

He rises to his feet, pausing only to grab at his bandaged head, which has begun to ache again. He needs more rest than he’s getting. He never gets any rest.

“You two okay?” he asks sharply, turning to the twins.

Trick and Doktor stare back. Truth be told, they look the worse for the wear, and Red feels a surge of fear at the thought that Anti was hitting them again - Trick only looks this dejected after a beating, and Dok’s turned off completely, something Red has come to view as a small mercy - but Trick, at least, still has enough fire to snap at him.

“Like you fucking care,” he grumbles.

“Shut up,” snaps Red, but, truth be told, he’s grateful to see him still fighting. “What happened to Dok? He doesn’t close off like that for nothing.”

Trick’s eyes well up with tears. Humiliated, he gives no answer, stalking away from Red and returning to his nest, as usual, as always, and takes his gun back into his hands, shoving lilies off the grip. Red blinks, surprised to see him go without dragging his twin after him, but he doesn’t have time for that now.

“Dok,” calls Red, moving closer to him. “Do you think you can look at Blue for me? They’re right, he needs some help.”

Doktor shifts on his feet, breathing a little oddly. Nevertheless, he manages to look up. “Some help?” he repeats raspily, pushing at his glasses.

Red sighs. “Yeah, Dok, I need you to look after Blue.”

“Who… I don’t know a Blue…”

“The magician, Dok.”

Doktor blinks. Shifts. And, suddenly, wakes up again.

“Oh, Blue!” he cries, already hurrying towards the island. “Fuck dammit, Red, tell me a little sooner next time!”

Red throws up his hands, exasperated. “Just take it easy, okay, you had another one of your little breakdowns. Thanks a lot for running off, by the way.”

“One of my little - I don’t have breakdowns.” Doktor readjusts his glasses and reaches Blue’s side. “Ah! You have got blood everywhere. Shirt off, let’s get cleaned up then, yeah? Good Doktor is here. Good Doktor is right here.”

In the corner, Trick turns his face to the window, so nobody can see him cry.

Anonymous asked: is doktor all right? who will look after him and blue? has he ever hurt himself or anyone before?

“I’m fine, of course! I don’t know what you’re all going on with all this worry. Trick and I just… I think we went for a walk. And now we are back, yes? So no need to worry.”

Red sighs and sits down beside him and Blue.

“Dok, are you sure you’re okay?” asks Blue, in a soft voice. “Did something happen?”

Doktor blinks and draws back, his eyes momentarily foggy again, but he returns to himself right away. “It’s you we should be worried about, Blue. Anti can be overwhelming the first time, yes? And these cuts… tsk, tsk. Let’s get cleaned up. Need new stitches.”

Red puts a hand on the back of Doktor’s neck. “Clean him up and I’ll let you pick something out from the store, okay?”

Doktor whirls on him, a desperate relief in his face. “Gloves? Like you said? So Trick doesn’t lose his fingers clutching that gun all night?”

Red nods, considering. “Sure, yeah.” He’s too exhausted to disagree anyway. He just needs to keep them together, functioning, quiet and easily ignored, before they reach the ends of Anti’s patience.

“Now you’re talking,” grins Dok, pulling out gauze and sutures. “Fuck, you all need to stop getting hurt! Why is this family so goddamn accident prone? Clumsy disasters that you all are.”

He ignores the second half of your question. But Trick’s camera is running too, and he turns you toward him, his eyes puffy and red and angry, tears streaming down his face.

“He’s not okay,” he croaks out. “He hurts himself a lot, you have no - you have no idea, his nightmares are like torture, I…”

He breaks off, rubbing his face, whimpering.

“I’m so tired of living like this,” he whispers, and sets his head down beside his gun, closing his eyes.

musical-in-theory asked: Marvin? Please you have to come back to us! You can’t let him win like this!

Blue nods slowly, staring at you. A flicker of anguish runs over his face. “I know there’s something I’m supposed to be remembering,” he moans. “But everything keeps coming and going.”

“Hey, calm down,” murmurs Doktor, brushing hair from his eyes. “The first time is scary, is overwhelming. But soon…”

Marvin reaches up to cling to his hand, staring at him with tears in his eyes.

“Soon it all vanishes behind you. A few weeks, okay? And then the pain stops.”

Marvin chokes, staring up at Red, who stares back, at a loss for what to say to the great ocean of fear in his face.

“Is this what you think painlessness is?” he cries. “Is this what he’s made you believe is happiness? My brothers - my brothers - my brothers, made like slaves.”

Doktor pauses, taken aback, but Red does not flinch. What can Marvin say that he has not asked himself a hundred times over? It doesn’t matter. He has to learn his place. He has to adjust to this. And Red knows, knows all too well, that if he is not there to reinforce everything his master does, his little brothers will not bend right.

The price of life is silence.

Red reaches forward, face blank, and touches his finger to Marvin’s mouth. Shh.

And Blue, crying, obeys him.

musical-in-theory asked: Hey Anti! You’ll never be shit, glitch! You’re just like your father!

“Hmm,” says Anti, padding up the stairs towards his work room. “That’s a good one. But you know, I think Jack’s favorite was… fuck, do you remember it? ‘I smell like beef.’ Ha ha!”

He steps into his room and sits down on the blood-stained wooden chair in the middle, staring at you, face cold. Then there is a flicker across your vision, a glitch across the whole room, and you are staring, suddenly, at a recording room you have seen many times before - grey walls, a green padded chair, and a very familiar face in the middle.

Anti just looks like Jack. He smiles cheerily, his movements more energetic, his face bright and enthusiastic.

“I can do a very good Jack impression!” he tells you. “He loved memes, he loved jokes like that! What a goof! I learned all about what he liked when I was living in his head. He was always so… cheerful. I guess that’s the one thing I never understood. He was happy to be alive.”

He glitches again and he’s wearing a PMA hoodie, his face pensive. “And so… so very full of fears.”

Anti shrugs, hums, considers.

“I know everything about him,” he says. “I know everything. Do you think you would like it, being born already having been another person? Being everything he hates about himself, everything he’s afraid of? I guess I am like my father. Isn’t that funny? Isn’t that so funny? You’ll never be shit, goose… what was that game he played, with the goose running around… he thought it was so funny… he was so happy to be alive…

“Oh, well. You can mock me if you want. It doesn’t mean much. I’ve won. What’s a hate comment after all that? He had twenty million viewers to watch him fail his little toys, his precious little characters. And the irony is that you’re still watching. That you’d still be watching, even if he wasn’t here, calling me jack shit to make yourself feel better about the fact that… well… you lose.”

The illusion fades away. He sits in his chair, blood-stained, and watches you. His eyes are blue.

“You lose,” he says, softly. He looks tired. “You lose. There is nothing… nothing he can do to change that…”

Anonymous asked: He treats them like animals. Why?

Anti sits back, frowning. “How else would I treat them?” he asks. “Don’t you know I was somebody’s pet once too? Let off the leash once a year, so you could all rack up his view count. Now his little darlings belong to me, and I’m the master. I’m the one in charge.”

He turns away from you, shaking his head. Closes his eyes. His body is translucent. “I’m the one in charge,” he whispers. “I am, I am, I am… he can’t find me… me and my pets… I’m the one in control. That will never change again.”

Anonymous asked: Okay, Jack can't find you... But are you able to find Jack? Seems you aren't interested in doing so, but is that just out of general disinterest or are you actively avoiding him?

Anti stands up, grabbing the camera. “No more talking about this,” he hisses, abandoning you on the other side of the room and turning back to his computer, his teeth gritted tight in his mouth.

musical-in-theory asked: Anti, Jack never even wanted you. You aren’t one of his egos. The fans made you and he played along. You aren’t their brother. You never could be.

The screen explodes into static and a terrible shrieking rings through the connection like a scream.

“Not one of his egos? Not one of his egos? Do you think you’re fucking funny? I’m wearing his goddamn face! He made me! He put silver in his hands, that was him, that was him! Like he didn’t choose me! Not their brother, I - ”

Screaming, Anti rises to his feet, flashing between dog and man. Downstairs, Trick, Dok, and Red react immediately, scrambling for hiding places, with Red shoving Blue into the corner of the island and Doktor hurrying towards Trick. Dapper, in his room, snaps to attention, getting down from the bed, confused by the noise of his brother’s rage - he isn’t as used to taking the brunt of his rage, and so he doesn’t react fast enough.

Anti grabs him by the rope on the back of his throat and yanks him in front of the camera, shaking him. “Does this not look like my brother? Is that what you fucking think? Huh?” He slaps Dapper’s cheek and his little brother gasps, making a small, desperate clicking noise with his tongue, the best form of begging he has with his hands held up to his throat, trying to stop the rope from cutting further into his bleeding throat.

“What, you think Jack wanted him more than me? Like he wasn’t half-dead by the time he created him? Like he was anything more than a last-ditch attempt at protection?”

He hauls Dapper back towards him, grabbing his face and forcing him to look up to him. “Jack didn’t want you!” he screams. “Jack didn’t give a fuck about you! He just needed a time traveler to fix his mistakes! You were nothing! You are nothing!”

The power he’s emitting is not only glitching across the camera, it’s physically burning the screen. His eyes are black. Dapper’s eyes are black too, he squirms, his fingers grappling for his clock, and then he reaches it, and then -

 As is usual to indicate that Dapper has turned back time, a previous post was reblogged with Dapper’s addition. In this case, Dapper reversed to the time of the post where Red told Blue to be quiet and Blue, crying, obeyed him. Any events between that time and this have been undone in the timeline.

Upstairs, Dapper is panting hard, lying on his bed with his flowers on the window, clutching the rope around his throat in one hand, and his clock in the other.

It’s okay. He’s okay. He undid it. He undid it. He’s okay.

“Please don’t tell him that again,” he begs, and then, shaking, he staggers off his bed, and crawls beneath, hiding himself in his arms, clutching a blue crocus flower in his hand.

Anonymous asked: ANTI YOU"RE FUCKING HOT

“Well, as Jack would say - ” Anti reaches up to turn off the camera. “That’s enough internet for me today.”

Moderator’s note: I would just like you all to know that that ^ is the most popular post on this blog as of January 2020.

Anonymous asked: Hey, Cha- Trick. It’s hard for you, and I understand that. I have no clue. But I have a feeling something good is coming. Keep hope, dude. I believe in you!

Trick glances up, his mouth trembling. “You really think that? I could use something good coming.”

He glances up at finds Doktor coming towards him, clutching triumphant blueberry bagels in his hands, a reward for cleaning Blue up. Mouth tightening white, eyes watery, Trick turns back to his window and focuses on his scope.

“Trick, let’s have dinner,” says Doktor, coming up behind him and sitting down in their blankets, tearing his bagel into slices. “Did we eat this morning? I feel so hungry.”

He holds out the bagel, but Trick doesn’t have it to look up. Confused, Dok knocks his shoulder, and Trick jumps hard, jerking away from him.

Doktor draws back, confused.

“Bad day?” asks Doktor, bewildered. “Hurt? Let me see.”

Trick shakes his head, biting down on his lip hard.

Doktor sits back, mouth slightly agape.

Anonymous asked: Holy shit, that was actually kinda scary

Dapper draws you close to his chest, lying under the bed, hiding, nodding. You can hear him crying softly, but it doesn’t last long. He’s tired. Doesn’t have him in it to be upset.

He hates the isolation. He hates the isolation. And, yes, he’s scared out of his mind, he’s always scared out of his mind, unless he’s losing it - but the fact is that even if there were anyone in the world who cared about him, he’d still be alone right now, because no one else knows what just happened.

He wishes… he wishes…

There’s a soft caw, caw in the window.

Anonymous asked: trick, how does he hurt himself? please be strong. i know you don't have it easy, but doktor will be himself again soon and you'll make up

Trick wipes at his eyes, grabbing one of the blankets he usually shares and dragging it over his shoulder. Doktor’s retreated to the five stairs that lead to the nest, giving him space.

“Dok gets scared,” he rasps. “Angry. Confused. He has these nightmares… or this one nightmare, anyway, over and over again. I keep watch. He scratches at his arms. And then sometimes, when he’s awake…”

Trick grits his teeth, groaning to himself. “When he goes dead, like that he - he scares me so much. I never know what he’ll do. Once he got his scalpel out and I found him - he used to be a heart surgeon, you know, he must have thought - it was awful. But he’s never…”

He trails off into tears, hiding his face from you.

“He’s never attacked me before… I didn’t think he - I thought Doktor was safe… the only one that was safe… We’re supposed to take care of each other. Fuck, why did I fucking grab him? I’m so stupid. I’m so sorry, you don’t have to listen to this.”

He shoves the camera slightly away, sobbing. “This is all my fault, fuck.”

florenceisfalling asked: trick, it's not your fault. it isn't, i promise. you're doing so well, people need you. people care for you. i promise. i would suggest listening to music to make you feel better, but i don't know if thats an option for you guys...?

Trick blinks. “Oh… oh, I’d love some music… Red has the little mp3 player, Anti gives it to him sometimes when he has to go on missions far away…”

He sighs, glancing back at his brothers. He can hear Blue and Red talking softly in their corner. It’s… really strange. He’s never heard Red speak so softly to anyone.

“Things change when you have a twin,” he murmurs. “Because… you’re right. Someone does need me. Someone does care for me.“

His eyes well up again. He curses himself for how easily he cries. It’s never done him much good in his life. “But you don’t think - do you think - do you think he grabbed me like that on purpose? Do you think he - ” He covers his mouth with his hands, dropping the gun. Doktor jumps, turning to stare at him, alarmed now.

“Do you think he hates me too?”

Anonymous asked: Trick, things are changing and they're changing quickly. It's a lot, and it's scary. Everyone's stressed and adjusting, and sometimes things get out of hand. Give it time, let things settle. The good changes will stay. The bad ones, we'll just have to work through until they're better, okay? Keep your brothers close.

“Yeah, yeah. That’s true. So much is changing, I don’t - I feel like everything got so out of hand so fast. I need to work through it, I gotta work through this.” He groans and wipes desperately at his soaking face. “Why am I always such a mess? I try so hard to keep it together, then I fuck up again and everyone sees me crying like a baby… no wonder I’m the least favorite.”

He sniffles and pulls his blankets in tighter. “Keep my brothers close… I… I need him, I just don’t know how to stop thinking about his hands around my neck…”

nikkilbook asked: Trick, I think he DID think he was keeping you safe. Remember, he was saying something about you, about not hurting Trick. He didn’t realize you were you. He was trying to find you, keep you safe. He wasn’t putting you in your place. He was trying to look out for you, just like you were trying to look out for him when you took him outside.

Trick’s eyes clear slightly. He rubs at his eyes. “That’s true,” he whispers. “He was calling for me. He always calls for me when he’s afraid, you know… not for Anti, not for Red. Just for me.”

He relaxes slightly, staring out the window. He’s looked out on these trees so many times he thinks it would have driven him insane if he were alone. At least he always had someone to lie next to him, to talk about nothing and everything with. At least he’s had someone to live for.

“I keep him safe,” he mumbles. “That’s why I get up in the morning. I keep him and Anti safe. We look out for each other. Even though what happened today sucked ass.”

Anonymous asked: Do you guys ever talk about what you're feeling? I think some communication would help you guys right now, if not with us, at least with each other.

“Trick,” calls Dok, softly, from the stairs.

Trick glances at you, biting hard on his lip.

“Can we talk?” asks Dok.

It takes Trick a long moment to answer. He shakes, his hands clenched tight.

And then they loosen, releasing the gun.

“Yeah,” he whispers, turning back to him. “Yeah, I want that.”

 End Section Two of Chapter One.

Find this chapter’s masterlist here.

[omegas-spaghettios]

Dear A,

I do my best to not be a vindictive person. I have had a history of being vindictive to multiple people, and it's never ended well for anybody involved. But there are a lot of things you do that hurt me, even though you can't know why. That's why I'm writing here, to get my words out there without harming you.

I know you moved here within the last couple years and you are struggling to make friends, and I think you are a genuinely nice person. I've done all I can to talk to you and ask about your interests, and i agonized at Wal-Mart trying to find you the perfect gift. This isn't to guilt you, i happily chose to do all of that. And I believe your company is fun. I wouldn't really search it out much, but when I have it in the group it has mostly been pleasant.

Until recently.

Let me tell you some things I have gone through, A. I have grown up in LDS Utah as a closeted Bisexual. I have been through hell, and I know I have had it easier than a lot of LGBTQ+ people in that religion. Since 8th grade I have consistently had depression and anxiety, clinically diagnosed, with therapy and meds and everything due to living here, the social hatred is incredibly intense. During that time up till now, just finished 11th, I have also had multiple self harm and suicidal stretches. This isn't asking for pity, most kids my age unfortunately have had to go through this. This isn't new.

I started dating a mormon girl 10th grade year. It was good for a long while, but starting 11th year it got bad. She had awful anger management issues, and was incredibly vindictive. Not to mention that she guilted me into supressing my problems so I can help hers. For months I endured passive aggression and my own repression and fights and anger because I truly loved her. But last month I decided enough was enough. I cut it off. I am not of the LDS faith anymore, and that was a major part of the decision as she still is, but that wasn't really why.

Not to mention the hallucinations. For the last year I have had infrequent hallicunations of Wendigo's, i'm sure you know what those are, as well as paranoia. Just yesterday I got diagnosed with anxiety and depression induced psychosis. I took my meds for the first time today for the hallucinations and begin therapy Monday.

The point is, add all of this together with what has been happening in the world and the stress of me being asthmatic when a respiratory disease is running rampant, and i believe you can see why I am struggling. I have turned to our friend group of 7, A, to finally talk to my peers in healthy ways about my struggles and not face my ex's wrath. I'm really struggling and for once I feel like I have a good support network, one I only kind of get at home.

So why am I upset and hurt? Well, a lot things. A, I know you believe in witchcraft and paganism and that creepypastas like Slenderman and Jeff the Killer are real. Personally, I think it's not real in the slightest as it can't be empirically proven, but that isn't why I'm upset in these scenarios. I think your beliefs are a bit ridiculous, but I respect everyone's beliefs. You do you. It is how you have used your beliefs to inadvertently harm me.

I came out to the group as Bisexual. The deal is, 4 of the 6 of you gals all knew already. You didn't. The ones who already knew came out in support, and you were silent. No harm done, really. Felt kind of off, but oh well, I don't really care. You weren't vindictive and haven't been about it. The issue is, you came out as a witch to your parents and gave us the play by play expecting our comfort. The comfort you never afforded me. I still gave it, i remember the hell I went through when I came out as Bi to my parents and you shouldn't go through that alone. But it hurts, knowing it's one sided.

But that isn't all. Your parents wouldn't let you use a dating app, so you came to the group chat and said we needed to find you a boyfriend. That's my my place, find your own damn boyfriend. I am fresh out of an awful relationship and now a single Bisexual. Even if I wanted to think about anyone's relationships much less my own, do you think i would set you up with people I think were interesting? And not try to date them myself? But I was polite and told her the truth: I only talked to that friend group and one other person. A couple of others also respectfully declined to find you one. Then you had the fucking audacity to send in the chat a picture of you scowling and leaving at that. Not an emoji, no words, a picture of your actual face in pure disgust. That's when I got angry. How dare you demand I find you somebody. How dare you be that lazy and demand me, in my fucking disaster state, to do it for you.

Well then, let's address the mental issues I have. It isn't your fault, I want you to know. And any one of these instances is excusable, but together I don't think it is. I had a full on panic attack sitting two feet away from you and another friend, let's call her E. My paranoia was shooting through the roof, i felt like I was about to be killed and I couldn't breathe. E kept giving me concerned looks and mouthing if I was okay, in which I gave many half hearted thumbs up. She knew it was bullshit, but guess why she didn't say anything? Because you, A, were running off about how Slenderman is stalking you. You even said that paranoia and fear means he is around. Not that you believe that, that it is FACT. It was incredibly dehumanizing of you to tell me what I was experiencing in that exact moment was because some 2000's fictional monster was around. I didn't say anything, granted because I physically couldn't, but it's not your fault. But everyone I have ever met will tell you I wear my heart on my sleeve. So how you could sit next to me, who was silent and fighting tears and quietly trying to gasp for air and was shaking and was being quiet as to not bother you (thanks, ex), you ignored me. Not only that, you dehumanized the very reaction I was having. That really hurt, A. Unintentional or not, it hurt.

Not to mention when I made a meme of my full name on Kermit jumping off a cliff to commit suicide, I made that very clear in the meme. I posted it in the group chat. I know that is not a good way to reach out, but I haven't reached out to anyone in months, so it's better than I have in a long time. A, you just said "yeah" and moved on to some asinine topic. Others tried to bring it up but you steamrolled overthem with your rocks or Jeff the Killer or something. A very clear cry on my behalf for help, and you said "yeah". Thank you.

Then this morning. Last night I woke up around 1 AM absolutely panicked. Not able to breath, shaking, world spinning, sweats, everything. Like I was dropped right in the middle of my worst panic attack ever. I was sure SOMETHING was about to kill me. It took hours to feel safe, and i haven't slept since 1 AM. I posted in the chat that I couldn't sleep and needed to talk to somebody. It was late, but I needed somebody. I was vague, but I don't want to drop that i am psychotic in the middle of a group chat. Then you woke up around 9 and said "oh, I can't sleep most nights so I get your pain. I felt really sick last night and threw up." I don't mean to diminish your experiences, A. I don't know how hard it is for you. But I went through hell last night without any of my friends in the chat, I eventually got ahold of my sister. Then you have the audacity to come to me and say "I get it. I was ill last night, so I get it." Again, it could have been miserable for you. But you just ignored my cries for help AGAIN, and you tossed my pain out of view so you could go on about yourself AGAIN.

I've done so much to make you feel welcome. I wouldn't choose you as a friend, but you are in the group and as such have worked to make you feel like part of it. But you don't care about me. At least, it doesn't seem like you do. I have made it very clear multiple times that I am not okay (did I mention the time I posted things in that chat about me experiencing hallucinations and you didn't say a damn thing?) and you don't care.

I write this out here because you don't know what I'm going through, so I can't hold it all against you I guess. But with how dismissive you are I don't trust you with it. We will be nothing more than superficial friends, if that. I typed this out, so I'm going to take a deep breath and move on, I'll be civil and jovial with you. But you have hurt me deeply, and thus have lost my trust.

- Bryan

[inanawesomewave]

GAME RESENTS GAME

When you have a Cluster B personality disorder, you can spot others of your kind a mile off. Whether it’s something major like their temper and what it’s based around, or if it’s just the way they accidentally forget to smile in the middle of an insincere moment, we see eachother. We know. So what happens when we meet others of our type? I’ve been asked a few times how I think relationships between personality disorders usually go, and I’ve only got a few personal examples, but the examples I do have, have intrinsically and undeniably shaped my life in lots of ways, profoundly and significantly.  ASPD Surprise surprise, I really like other sociopaths. Not at first, mind. My first instinct with another antisocial is, “something’s off about this guy. Who does he think he fucking is? No, I don’t like him. There’s something about him I just don’t like.” I think this is probably because antisocials have such a lack of connection to ourselves and such disdain for ourselves (not to be confused with self-loathing) that to see ourselves mirrored can sometimes be destabilising. But sure enough, usually in barely any time at all, I grow to like that person a lot. They make me laugh, they say things that I can identify with. I am around someone with whom the jokes keep coming, there’s a sense of fluidity to the conversation, and whether I’ve come to know that person extremely well over the course of years, or whether I’ve only known them for a few months, there’s a fluency of shared in-jokes that haven’t been pre-established, and I like that. I can be partners in crime with other sociopaths. I can say things with impunity. There’s a kinship there, a brotherhood. I’ve mentioned him before, but my early adulthood was shaped by the influence of a best friend I will always remember as one of the finest people I have ever known. More of a factor 1 kind of psychopath, I hated him right away. I’d never immediately hated someone before, but he seemed smug, or self-assured, he seemed... I hate to admit it, but the first time I saw him, we were in a room full of people and he looked better than everyone else (including me) and he seemed more interesting than everyone else (including me) and people seemed really interested in him (more so than me) and he looked really sure of himself (just like I like to be). Looking back I felt intimidated by who I immediately identified as being the top of the food chain. He later told me, and made very clear to me, his immediate reaction to me was much the same. Over the course of just a few weeks, we became friends, then best friends, then we had a bond that was like brotherhood, kinship. Our friendship was one of solid loyalty, and whilst we really did piss eachother off quite a lot, there was something of an unspoken understanding that this was it and we were in this. I had more empathy for him than I’d ever had for anyone at that point. When I heard him talk, I felt I could finally talk.  I’ve met other sociopaths over the years, and I feel like I’ve gone into my tribe. I’m not normally a pack animal, but if it’s a wolf pack, I’m in.  BPD What I’m about to say is from personal experience, and is only from intimate relationships I have been in. I don’t rub along well with borderlines, historically. I will tell you why. And this is why I believe a lot of antisocials shouldn’t date borderlines -- it’s not fair on anyone.  I was in a three year relationship with a man with BPD, and it was a fucking nightmare. I’m self-sufficient, and I like my emotions to be my choice, especially where my empathy and compassion is concerned. I will support, love and trust, until I feel it’s being forced out of me, and then I will react, dismiss, disgust. The borderline I dated immediately latched onto every single part of my life, very quickly. It was like he was trying to become me. At first, I was flattered. I even entertained the idea that this was good for me, good for my ego maybe, if narcissistic supply is being told how great you are then antisocial supply is being powerful enough that people try to emulate you. He was very full-on at first, I remember feeling a little stifled by how constantly he needed to be in touch with me, he’d call me after work, during work, after the drinks after work, he’d call me when he was drunk because he thought he was so hilarious I’d die laughing and be grateful of the attention. And maybe that was his way of showing love, but I was not grateful of the attention, and it didn’t take me long to get bored of it. He was everywhere, and he was everyone, and he was nobody, all at once. His lack of identity and need for me to define it for him exhausted me, and angered me. It was like he wanted me to organise his entire life, tell him what to do, where to be, who to meet, what to say, and then once he realised his own codependence he’d become furious and react by, oh, I don’t know, contacting an ex, talking about former sexual partners, inventing an emotional crisis and then being pissed off I didn’t respond to it (once, after an argument: “Ugh, I guess I’m just a little tired today. It’s the two year anniversary of my ex-girlfriend’s father’s death.” ???). I had to always be there for him, no matter what, and his being there for me was insincere. His rage was equal to mine, and I admit that, he was angry all the time and I was angry all the time. Very quickly a battle of wills was established by the both of us, and for two whole years we were both jousting against eachother. But he would always try to win, by creating a crisis: he’d hurt himself in front of me, he’d perform sadness or pain in front of me (and was a bad actor), he’d “go missing” for a few hours then turn up “confused”, he’d pretend, pretend, pretend, and the more he needed my undivided attention and empathy, the more I resented him. And I would try to win by laughing or ignoring, and both of us came off as bad people, because both of us were being bad people. When he, as the DSM would word it, would frantically try to avoid abandonment, after a while, I would abandon as best I could, and with spite.  I think it’s nothing personal, the way antisocials are with borderlines, but I think it’s in our chemistry, or whatever magic it is that makes up Cluster B: antisocials need to be self-sufficient. We are generous and loving, but we covet that generosity and warmth extremely fiercely. We don’t respond to emotional provocation, we do not respect it. And we’re emotionally very cold, closed-off, and unavailable. Borderlines need to feel loved and catered for. They are too generous and loving, but they can’t seem to regulate all too well how that love comes out, what’s appropriate, what’s not. It’s not the fault of the person with BPD that insecurity has left them with a fear of abandonment, but it’s not the fault of the person with ASPD that abandonment is how we cope.  NPD Tough one, because again, I’ve known narcissists I’ve really liked. It’s the ones I’d call “Evolved” narcissists: they know what they’re about, who they are, why they’re doing what they’re doing, and whether they’re trying to change it or not is irrelevant, the self-awareness is enough. But then again, there’s something in narcissism, when it’s malignant and lacks all self-awareness, that I find almost delusional, I begin to wonder just how close to psychosis it really is, if they say that the “borderline” in Borderline Personality Disorder stands for “The borderline between neurosis and psychosis”, then how did narcissists escape that label? When grandiosity is that pervasive and delusional, I don’t understand how it isn’t a genuine psychotic disorder. It’s true that so many Cluster B traits intermingle with eachother, and the reason I don’t get on with narcissists as a rule and they don’t get on with me, is what I mentioned in my first part about ASPD -- a battle of wills is too quickly established. Narcissists are always looking for evidence that their crown is about to be toppled, and antisocials are always looking to attack, and to defy what’s been handed to them. Antisocials have narcissistic tendencies, but whilst a narcissist will always be a hero (or a victim) in every story they tell, the antisocial will be whatever the situation requires, but the antisocial doesn’t buy into their own bullshit. I’ve found in the past that a narcissist will rewrite history, but then curiously, believe their own retelling of the thing that never happened. Antisocials love to eke out insincerity, to either see how the situation unfolds, or to make someone squirm -- but narcissists seem to become so involved in their insincerity, they have no idea they’re no longer being sincere, or telling any kind of truth. I’ve had a few in my life, and maybe I’m biased because of that, but my most recent experience is the boyfriend of someone I used to be very close to. I think it’s the lying, or the fact that their manipulations really are very intricate, I’m not sure. But it’s ultimate control, impotent power, and hard to stick around for. But having said all that, my relationships to narcissists is probably a 30/70 split. For every handful of narcissists I meet that I hate, I meet one that I find truly amazing. After all, that confidence and that self-importance, it’s hard to look away.  HPD I literally have never met anyone with this diagnosis, and I’m not sure I even understand it myself. 

[blodreina-noumou]

I had fun with 6x02. It was angsty “why can’t our kids just get along” fun, but still fun!

The Big Things I’d be down to discuss:

1 - We got tiny little crumbs about Alpha/Sanctum itself, the people who live there, and how/why they’ve lived on this moon for the past century or so. The backstory with the very obvious Bellarke stand-in (that had to either be the best or worst little nod ever for shippers), including the sudden and unexpectedly violent death of Sanctum Clarke (I know she has a name I just forgot), shows us that the people of this world have been dealing with the eclipse psychosis for a long time, which definitely explains the kids’ books and general “this is a thing that happens sometimes” attitude of the people we’ve met. The mother, father, and daughter of that group are the Lightbournes (no idea how to spell that yet), who are seemingly worshiped in this world. How did that happen, when Daddy Lightbourne went nuts and murdered his wife and daughter? Jumping to the present, one of the lines between the older hijacker woman and her dying daughter - “the bodies, you have to make sure -” “I’ll take care of it” - definitely makes me think that there’s something about death/corpses on this planet that we don’t know yet. (Which makes me think of poor Shaw, quickly buried in that grave by that random field.) Both women seemed very concerned with recovering the bodies of their husbands, beyond the usual “respecting our dead” worries. And finally, that ending. The little girl, Rose, seemed to be dressed a bit more “royally” for lack of a better word, than the other children. Maybe it was just a design choice to make her stand out - if she’s got a name, she’s gonna be important. She had those “wise young leader” vibes though. The most interesting thing - her asking Clarke if they’re there to “take them home” and Clarke responding “isn’t this your home?” Sanctum believes they’re going to be rescued, I think we can safely guess that this is a big part of what makes them culty. So what are they going to do now that they know a rescue is impossible, because Earth is dead? Why do they still want to go home - to reconnect with a world an indeterminate number of lightyears away, where none of them were born? Why? Is it something about Sanctum that makes them long to return - something more than just the Eclipse Psychosis?

2. My favorite interactions were between Murphy and Clarke. I think something significant happened between them when Murphy finds Clarke holding that knife to her own throat. I think Murphy has a moment of realizing, “oh, maybe Clarke hasn’t let go of her baggage, maybe she carries more guilt and self-loathing than she shows us.” He gentles a lot as he talks her down, tells her that the radio she’s hearing all of those terrible things from isn’t even on. I do think they have a better understanding of each other now, and will probably snipe at each other less. Probably. Maybe. I appreciated Murphy telling Clarke that her taking some responsibility for being “the bad guy” was “a good start.” I do think Clarke needs to make serious strides towards apologizing properly, and she came closer than she had before to doing that in the argument she and Murphy had while they were locked up in the school. She was passive aggressive, but I think part of that is her frustration that anyone would think she doesn’t regret the things she’s done. She’s lost so many people who are important to her, and, given what Delusion!Abby said, Clarke also clearly blames herself for all of it. I think part of why she can’t apologize to anyone is because it’s hard for her to live with herself without justifying the why of those lives lost. She has to remember what she did it for, who she did it for, or she’ll lose it completely and surrender to her darkest, self-destructive impulses. This episode helped me with Clarke a bit, I’ll admit it. I hope this isn’t the only thing we’ll get, but I’m not holding my breath.

3. The different reactions everyone has to the psychosis is worth a hundred metas and at least twenty crack posts. I wanted to make a “tag yourself” meme about what everyone does (Echo “nopes” herself right out; Emori flips and attacks her “it’s complicated” lover; Bellamy becomes an Angry Rage Dad; Jackson and Miller try to protect each other to death; Clarke just hates herself (I don’t even have a good joke for it, it was honestly pretty sad); and Murphy would just be “????”; a bonus would be Octavia, who managed to behave as if she was under the Eclipse Psychosis, but it turns out our girl is just Losing It For Real Now, No But Like For REAL For Real - but I’m not good at the image-making thing, so anyone who sees this is free to steal the idea and adapt it to their own interpretations (just lmk ‘cause I wanna see it)!

4. Was Murphy affected? By the time Emori, Jackson, Miller, and Echo are all down for the count, Murphy becomes the voice of reason for Clarke and Bellamy. He has to protect himself, and them, from themselves and each other, and he does so in a very level-headed way. He isn’t shaking off the delusions like Clarke does when Murphy and Bellamy are fighting. He isn’t raging and ranting like Bellamy is. His craziest moments come from believing that he’s the only sane one left. Yet he shoots at Bellamy and Clarke, and clearly seems paranoid that they’re out to get him at certain moments. So what gives? Which parts were potentially Eclipse Psychosis, and which parts were just Murphy? I’m inclined to believe his needling of Clarke is 100% Him - given how he stomps off from their little fireside chat in 6x01 (that smile was sarcastic af y’all, not him really being like “you win”, he was pissed), I don’t think he’s able to hold himself back from speaking his mind to Clarke about her decisions, once they’re both tied up and stuck in the same room together. So when he shoots at Clarke and Bellamy, do we think he’s trying to protect them from themselves, or does he genuinely want to hurt them? So much to analyze. 

5. Speaking of Octavia, I am both elated and devastated to see that Niylah is pretty much her only friend right now - it makes my Niytavia heart happy, but it’s rough to see Octavia struggling so much, and being so alone in it. It’s clear Niylah is so scared for Octavia, and might be the only one who really sees how much she’s hurting. She’s the only one who recognizes that Octavia is egging everyone on, trying to get them to fight her, probably even kill her. Octavia is lashing out so much right now, and it’s definitely not a good look. I think it’s the only thing that makes sense for her character right now. She lost everything - all of the honor and respect and (yes) power she had, all of the hope she had for finding redemption in Eden, all of her closest friends and supporters (with the exception of Niylah - also, side note, I hope we see Indra and Gaia soon), and her brother. She’s never been good at actually reflecting on her mistakes. Now that she feels she has pretty much nothing to lose, of course she’s going to lash out and act like an angry kid throwing a tantrum, baiting people into punishing her. She wanted to die in that gorge - she believes she deserves it. Now, in her own words, “none of it makes sense”. I don’t know how much darker and angrier she’ll have to go before she finally confronts Blodreina, and all of the reasons she had to become her. She has to accept what she did, and forgive herself, before anyone else will.

6. What will the fallout from the Bellamy/Murphy fight be? Everyone was throwing out some sharp barbs, but Bellamy’s comment about Murphy being a court jester, and how that was “barely” better than useless was a low blow. It’s also a long way from the premiere last year, with Bellamy pinning Murphy and refuses to let him up until Murphy says he isn’t worthless. Will they brush by it as Eclipse Angst, or is this indicative of bigger problems between Murphy and Bellamy down the line this season? Bellamy definitely wakes up looking hella guilty about how close he came to killing both Clarke and Murphy. Does he really feel that way about Murphy, does he see him as an equivalent threat compared to Clarke? Why, and how?? Not to beat a dead horse, but Clarke has been pretty traitorous lately and has been much more dangerous to trust than Murphy has, for Bellamy for sure. Clarke’s own self-destructive thoughts seemed to be the genuine truth, what she believed about herself. Who’s to say we can’t assume Bellamy was being equally genuine about Murphy?

7. What’s going on with Murphy at the end there? Before he went into the water, he was mostly okay. After he comes out and passes out for a while, he’s suddenly near-death, with crazy black shit visibly running through his veins? I’ll admit I’m a little scared for him! I’m sure he’ll probably be fine, but the source is what unsettles me - the biggest difference between the three of them by that ...pond? puddle?... is that Murphy went under and inhaled a lot of water. Is even the water toxic when the eclipse is going on? That’s going to mean that the Sanctum people, who clearly have some safe place to go to during the eclipses, will have a lot of power over the safety of everyone on the planet, even more than we originally suspected. So our traumatized heroes are going to have to adapt and assimilate to this new society, and we really have no idea what that’s going to look like yet. We’ve already gotten some hints that it’s weird and culty though, and culty things have never boded well for our characters. Has it been mentioned how often these eclipses are? I don’t think so. We know they last two days, but not how often they happen. We also don’t know much else about the dangers in the world, and what life is like for other parts of the moon’s surface.

8. The parallels between Clarke and Octavia so far this season are delightful and frustrating. They both have so much in common, and it’s interesting to see the different and similar ways they’re reacting to the terrible things they were forced (and chose, at times) to do as young, inexperienced leaders. They both don’t think they deserve to be alive. They both have tried to hurt or kill themselves because of that. What frustrates me a bit about 6x02 is that it feels like a reversal from the way we saw Octavia at the end of 5x13. Octavia seemed ready to accept responsibility in that gorge “Wonkru is dead. I broke it.” and Clarke seemed more willing to stand by her convictions as a Mama Bear. Now Clarke is slowly starting to accept some accountability, and Octavia is calling out everyone for their “sins”. But I think on some level, they’re both motivated by the same self-destructive self-loathing. Both Clarke and Octavia attempted to sacrifice themselves (Clarke at the end of s4, Octavia at the end of s5) for the sake of their people, and also in an attempt to make up for how fall they’d each fallen from their own moral centers - they both wanted redemption and absolution for the terrible things they’d do to other people for the sake of survival. Both of them were robbed of this opportunity when they survived their attempts at martyrdom, yet their attempts do save the people they love. They’re both pretty much in the same place at the beginning of s6 - on the edges of their groups (although Clarke has been treated far more warmly by ReconKru than Octavia has been on the Eligius ship), feeling alone except for one special girl (Madi and Niylah respectively, although also Bellamy was being pretty nice to Clarke before the Psychosis thing happened), and they both have so much blood on their hands. Both have lashed out to an extent, but both have also directed their anger and guilt inward, and against themselves physically. I don’t know what the intention is behind these parallels yet - both women need a lot of peace and time to heal from what they’ve been through. Will they both actually be allowed that, on this show? I doubt it. That scares me, because as much as I complain about Clarke, I’ve never wanted a tragic ending for her. But if it comes down to a choice, I think y’all know what my bias would be. And right now, Octavia looks more likely to meet that dark end than Clarke.

This is long enough, so that’s it for now! Let me know your own thoughts!!

[dopeheaddiaries-blog]

You’ve Got To Start Somewhere

The focus here is on struggles in life, love, and drugs and is my outlet to express my self publicly in an anonymous way.

After approximately two years of very diligently doing everything in my power to destroy my life, and ruin the future I’d built up for myself until the age of 26, I experienced a spiritual awakening. Probably not quite like any other one you’ve ever heard of before since my awakening was the direct result of a drug-induced state of psychosis that left me questioning the existence and meaning of everyone and everything. No thought or belief even of the most simplistic thing could be trusted. Where was I? I had no clue. Maybe, I was in a psych ward talking to doctors, and patients, or other parts of my mind. Maybe, I was in jail for a terrible crime my mind couldn’t accept me having committed. Quite possibly I’m a comatose patient in a hospital dreaming my reality. As I said before, I didn’t have the slightest clue but one thing was certain. I. Did. Not. Trust. Anything.

Inspired by the woman I love most in this world. With you, I’m such a better man and I cherish every moment that you so lovingly give to me. Because of you, I aspire not just to be great but to be the greatest. Because of you I know that means so much more than becoming successful and wealthy. For without you all the wealth in the world couldn’t bring the joy one smile from you brings to my heart.

Man, this shit is really eating me alive. I really can’t take the way that the relationship between my father and myself has become. It’s embarrassing to admit, but the last month I’ve spent crying the majority of the time I’ve alone. Which, until very recently, has been almost all day every day. After all the emotional trauma that I’ve been through, currently being in an unhealthy relationship, and having just recovered from over a year of using insulin syringes to inject whatever interesting drug I could get my hands on, I need a little more recognition than what I’m getting. I feel like my father has forgotten that he still has himself to work on. I feel like he gave up on emotional self-improvement a long time ago. Don’t get me wrong. I love my father and appreciate everything that he’s done to support me, believe me. But I’m fucking over here working on healing HIS problems, my mother’s problems, my girlfriend’s problems and oh let’s not forget my problems. I’m not trying to put blame on anyone else for my problems. Trust that I take full responsibility for the things that are mine. But some of the things that we struggle with in life are generational issues that have been struggled with throughout your family line for decades. But if you can heal yourself. You might be able to heal your lineage. The reason why it’s being struggled with, in the first place, is because there clearly isn’t enough knowledge or experience. Generally speaking, I think it’s safe to say we don’t usually struggle with things we are both knowledgeable of and experienced at. So then I also feel like it would be safe to say that if you struggle with something, it’s a good idea to get knowledge and experience on that topic or you will continue to struggle with it. Experience without knowledge is almost useless. I can’t simply start getting good meaningful experiences from something without the knowledge of what a good experience actually would be. I only would learn about that experience and without at least another experience I’d have no knowledge to tell me if it was a good experience or bad and why or what the factors were that affected that experience. For me, I missed experiencing a lot between my parents. My Father never taught me how to treat a woman I love and care for. My mother never taught me how a woman acts towards a man she loves. Or did I, in fact, learn exactly that. My mother and father, divorced when I was so young I couldn’t understand what was actually happening. I remember there was a lot of unhappy times then I remember suddenly having to go to different houses to see both of my parents. I didn’t see them talk anymore. I didn’t see them work out their differences. I didn’t see them come together to solve problems. I didn’t see them build each other up and motivate each other. The two people I loved with the greatest purest love, the love of an innocent child, only showed hate toward each other. Though my father was careful not to speak badly of my mother for a very long time until I started to get older and ask better questions. My mother frequently spoke badly about my father and they rarely spoke face to face. They hardly even could bare speaking on the phone. I remember every time they had to see each other they made it seem like it was such a big deal and a problem. They couldn’t possibly stand being around each other. There was, the very rare occasion, that they did come together and talk and work as a team though. When all hell broke loose with me and neither of them had the slightest clue what to do with me. Oh and trust.. I put them through a hell that no person ever deserves. Hell, that I wouldn’t wish my worst enemy. Hell, that I learned was love. To me, that’s what love was. The way your mother treats your father and the way your father treats your mother is you learn what love looks like as a child. It’s no wonder that I said mean and hurtful things to my parents who would say mean and hurtful things about each other and to me. I learned that my mother whom I loved spoke about my father whom I love in that way. So… That must be what love is, correct? My father almost never spoke to my mother at all, and almost never had anything nice to say about her. So, that must be what love looks like, correct? I know that none of us are perfect. I know that we all make mistakes. I know that hindsight is 20 / 20. It doesn’t change looking back at the past, I can’t help but ask myself. WHAT THE FUCK were you two thinking? I love you both dearly but you failed me as parents. I think it’s time we all accept that. Trust me it sucks. I hate it more than anyone else. I’m sure it’s painful for you to admit and think but I promise you it’s 10 times more painful for me. OWN IT. We fuck up. You fucked up. We’re going to fuck up again. Whatever. Shit happens. Be honest and true to yourself. Forgive yourself, forgive others. Accept your shortcomings and start focusing on improving. You can’t change the past but we still have right now. But every second you continue to ride on autopilot not working on the things that I’m now forced to deal with as an adult you continue to fail me. AM I GOING TO TEACH YOU HOW TO GET SOBER OR ARE YOU GOING TO TEACH ME? AM I GOING TO TEACH YOU HOW TO COMMUNICATE OR ARE YOU GOING TO LEARN AND TEACH ME?!

I’m in love. More so than I’ve ever been in my entire life with someone whom I’m not worthy of their love and I’m trying so fucking hard to fix my issues and become a better person for the woman I love. Trying so fucking hard to fix the same problems that I’ve had over and over year after year with different girlfriends different people different things different times but the same fucking problems. SHE ISN’T THE PROBLEM. WE ARE. Yeah, we’ve fought. Yeah, we’ve treated each other like shit at times and hurt each other more than anyone else probably ever has or will. But, we’ve stuck by each other and kept pushing each other to be better do better. To grow, heal, and love ourselves again. She beyond a shadow of a doubt in my mind is the woman that is meant for me. She ain’t going to take my shit. She knows how great I am and she accepts nothing less. She loves me more than any woman has ever loved me before and yeah she’s got some issues but dammit I love her issues. I love her issues like they are my own and I would do any damn thing in the world to make her happy. I’ve said more than my piece today. Dope head signing out.

[shadowfae]

**breathes in deeply**

(vent)

So I'm a soulbonder who's looking to make a new bond to a particular person and nothing is working.

I know a lot about this person, I know a good amount about their world, and I know what I need to do, but none of the things I've tried have worked. I've bonded people before in both intentional and unintentional ways. This is unusual for me. I don't quite know how to handle what's going on here.

I know what's probably causing it. My mental health kinda tanked between this and the last time I called a new bond. Like. I've started experiencing psychosis issues intra-headspace. Thankfully I've avoided anything that severe in meatspace, but I have had increased issues with my pre-existing executive function and emotional regulation issues. Every time I think I've gotten somewhere with bonding this character it's only been psychosis issues and discernment issues, and it's really, really disheartening.

But even aside from mental health issues, when I'm relatively lucid I'm not having luck.

I've tried summoning, I've tried inviting, I've tried direct "hey come here", I've tried indirect "hey we'd like to talk", I've tried yanking them, I've tried directly appearing to them in their own world, I've tried just trying to talk to them before. Most of these I've tried more than once. Nothing has worked. There may have been contact in the past (and seemed positive-to-neutral about learning more about this place and visiting), but at this point I really doubt even the more reliable incidents. Something should have worked here, and I can't shake the feeling something is going very wrong.

I know I should probably give up and move on at this point, as it's been literal months. Honestly I've asked a lot of places for help and I've looked into what resources I've been able to find on their source world and bonding in general, and my options are running dry. Nobody would blame me for giving up. But I have my reasons not to. I have a feeling about this, and they're in a situation I don't feel like leaving alone. Like, everyone they thought they could trust screws them over. I also DESPERATELY want to at least talk to this person. This entire situation is so fucking frustrating. I'm at the "try shaking cat treats at them" phase.

Also I can't talk to anyone about this because 1. dude's source is from my own AU, and is technically my oc, 2. the places I can talk about this shit are not open to sensitive parts of this, going assume I'm lying, or uh, were exposed to a few cringey false alarms on related things, 3. it's been long enough and constant enough that it's too much to talk about the full extent of this nonsense. 4. My SO can't tolerate this person's source world, so I won't make them endure my prattling.

Because I needed isolation added to this clusterfuck.

Anyway that was good to get off my chest, feel free to throw this into the tumblr void with the identities of anon asks if you want. Or post it, I have no investment in the fate of this.

Mmmm, it looks like there are several issues here that you're facing.

I want to ask: do you have any other bonds right now? Because maybe getting them to try will help, just because their methods will be different than yours, and sometimes you just need a second set of hands. (Or fins, as Albafica wants me to make sure you know.)

There could be a ton of things blocking it, and I would suggest dealing with your psychosis issues first. Not give up, but put this on hold until you know what's causing the psychosis and have dealt with it. You do not want to forge a bond on such a shaky foundation. I'm not saying 'psychotic people can't soulbond', flames forbid I am, I'm reading that this is a new and difficult thing, and you don't want unknown variables getting in your way, especially when they can induce things that look similar to soulbonding but really really aren't.

I have to account for my Devil powers every time I do a spell, ward, or fuck around with the headspace. Because I'm the host and the god in the room, and things answer to me when they won't to anyone else, and Albafica's commentary on that is "stop locking me in a room with your crazy sentient brambles that only speak static whenever you're majorly upset" and I think that's not fair to me, that only happened once and it was accidental, but you get the point. That's a variable you need to be predictable and accounted for.

Then yeah, past that it looks like they're just not willing, and if you want to bond, you need to see it from their side. Because to some random person in their world, you probably feel / appear like a particularly dangerous spirit that's trying to eat them. Al agrees that's how he'd take it if someone pulled that on him, and he's very untrusting on his best days. So it sounds, so far, like your approach is not the best for this.

If you rule out medical reasons for your psychosis - and that is not an easy thing to do, please check out medical things for that, you don't want to fuck around with it - it could also be them refusing you and using their own wards. (Or at least, I can see the line of thought between them trying to stop you and such backlash; but that's an option to consider after medical issues.)

If you can get in contact with them, you need to ask one question, and one question alone, and do not pass go or collect your 200$ until they've answered clearly: do they want you to stop?

You haven't said why you want to bond with them so badly, and motivation is a key factor here. With Goni, he showed up looking for Luco and serves partially as the adult to go to when shit gets bad and also as the resident prettyboy and slut. Al is logical and blunt and his remarks cut deep, but he gives a damn and functions as lieutenant where Goni's advisor and backup. South is uh, he's the demon commentating about how much we should just kill people and he's right, he is, but that's illegal. He also serves as the youngest and the most prone to extreme emotions, and when someone else is doing the extreme emotions, it makes it that much easier for the rest of us to keep our heads. He says what I'm thinking, and then I can deal with it rationally.

They're all people, and they aid each other as well in headspace, but the bond between host and bond is a bit different than bonds with each other. I pilot the body most of the time, I handle everything in meatspace, they help me do that. It's simple: keep the guy who pilots the body running, get body privileges.

And what you need to consider here is not only what they can do for you, but what you can do for them, and how exactly you're going to coexist. Because while my triad of fishmen help me, I also help them, largely because uh, /gestures at the fact they all died in a war in various gruesome ways and the journey they took to get there was actually worse/. It's all fun and games until they're here, away from the danger, and then there's the exotrauma.

Goni handles it by not handling it until he has to and right now we're working on actually acknowledging that he's got issues. South deals with it by being resentful as all hell and incredibly violent and yandere, but being allowed to not pull his punches is still so new to him that it's actually quite good for him to get to say what he's thinking and be respected for it. Al's grumpy about it but is trying to build something of his life now before he falls apart. He wants something to hold onto first, which is smart. Trust Al to figure out the most logical way with none of the words and then adamantly refuse to let that go wrong. He and I both understand bullying the universe into giving us what we want, and since he has full utter control over his own mental processes thanks to being able to make my Devil powers do what he wants, I don't think anyone's going to be able to interfere with his ability to do that.

So now I have to ask for you: what is this bond going to be doing for you, and just as important, what exactly do you expect to be able to do for them? Because they're also an OC, and they may have some goddamn feelings about that. They may see you as having coincidentally written down their life, they may see you as channeling it, or they may see you as the one who made it happen. All of which you'll also see in fictionkin spaces. If they fall into the last category, they're gonna be pissed you didn't give them a happy ending, and they're justified in that, and so are you for not doing that.

You have to be prepared - especially from reading between the lines of your ask here - that they're not going to be as functional as you want them to be. When we handle our exotrauma, we're a mess. Everything gets put on hold to deal with it, and even then, we rely a lot on our partner system (Faolan and the Nebulaic Collective) to keep the body from crashing so we can hold onto our life instead of falling apart utterly for a week straight. We don't do jack entirely with the four of us, and it's better that way.

The fact that you can't rely on anyone outside of yourself, especially considering 1) they don't seem to want this, 2) your attempts either very coincidentally happened alongside or caused serious mental issues that need urgent attention from you, and 3) you don't sound prepared to handle the severity of what you're implying it to be; all goes to show that this reads to me like a terrible fucking idea. I mean that honestly and gently and bluntly.

I don't mean 'give up and don't do this', I mean 'seriously dude either you're not giving me context or you haven't thought nearly hard enough about the realistic way this is going to go', and if it's the latter, no wonder you're having issues.

I already know who my next bond will be, and I know what needs to happen for him to show up. Right now, the four of us are functional, and we have a good Thing going on, sleeping arrangements and all. If we're getting another, a Space needs to open up for him, job to keep us functional that he can do as well as a part to play in our dynamic that is currently not being met. We got Adult (Goni), we got Logic (Al), we got Emotional Teenager (South), we got Has Context And Admin Access (me).

(Side note, South is vaguely 17-19, but he's been treated like he was five for most of his life and has been forced to rapidly oscillate between genuinely horrifying scenarios and being incredibly sheltered, so trying to put any sort of 'he's an average X year old' is downright impossible. He's on the upper end of teens and we call it a day there, and if he hears a word of "you're not old enough to do X activity" then I have to stop him from sending you graphic descriptions of things he can do to your insides and that's no fun for anyone so don't do that please.)

So when we have a space the new bond can fill both in keeping things functional so he has something to do and a space in our relationship so he's not standing on the sidelines looking in, he'll show. As it stands right now, that hasn't happened, so he's not here yet. That and I think I'm stretched rather thin when it comes to bonds, I need much more time with our fishes before I think I can handle more folks in here. So much on my mind, so little time.

But either way regardless. You have several glaring issues that are fairly obvious that you may not have noticed because you can't be objective in a situation you're involved in (true of everyone), and until you fix those, yeah, this doesn't sound like it'll work all that well.

Although I will note that I typically bond via my writing, simply writing from their perspective until they start commentating. They go from 'maybe MaDD doing shit' to 'oh hey soulbond' when they don't comment only on themselves but also on things I'm doing in meatspace. Albafica's a character when he's narrating his own life, he's a person when he demands More Salmon For Dinner; if that makes sense.

I doubt you'd get that far unless they genuinely did want the connection, because otherwise they wouldn't tell you stuff about themselves. Works for me, might work for you, who knows, please get your psychosis symptoms checked out first before touching this again and make sure they actually want to bond and it's actually viable before continuing and then try again I suppose?

A very long answer for a very long ask, but I like Helping, so. Hope that helped a bit.

[nickrbockr]

Simon Vs Fan Fic: Chapter 6 - One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish

Ao3

Leah came with me to Walgreens to get items to put into Bram’s care package. Abby and Nick were still asleep and Ian decided to go on home and sober up for tonight’s partying. She went into the store to start on my list because I called Bram to apologize.

“Hi handsome,” Bram’s voice comes with a layer heart and warmth that drips into my ear.

“I don’t deserve that today,” I start as I shuffle in the passenger seat.

“Stop, Si.”

“If I made you feel bad in anyway, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, honest. What can I do to make you feel better?”

I scoff in guilt. “Here I am trying to apologize to you and you’re the one asking what you can do for me.”

“Simon,” Bram begins. “I know how hard this is, believe me. You have no idea how much Baltimore Nick has to listen to me talk things out. But what is important is how we communicate like we are now. When either of us is feeling something, we just need to let the other know. If I could hold you right now, I would tuck myself so close to your chest so I could hear my heart beat in your chest.”

“I miss you so much. I thought it would be easier, but I was wrong, it’s so much harder.”

“I made the same assumption too and it looks like I’ve been listening to Elliot Smith more and more. Which is counter-productive because the lyrics really are depressing. Remember this, Simon: you’re no longer alone in this, we’re in this together.”

“I’m glad you’re with my goofy butt, Bram. In spite of all my craziness.”

Bram exhaled and I swore I could feel his soft breath on my ear. “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you Simon. I see a man with perpetual sexy bedhead. I see your moon-grey eyes explore my face with beautiful awe. I see a man willing to do anything and everything for the sake of others at the expense of himself because that’s how much other people mean to him. I see a boy who I had eyes for since freshman year of high school. Look in the mirror, Si, through my eyes and you’ll understand.”

“I’ll work on that, B, I promise.”

“Simon Jacob Spier.”

“Abraham Louis Greenfeld.”

“I will see you soon.” He could feel Bram’s smile stretch across his phone as well as pang in his voice that was hungry for my flesh.

The ‘I love you’ chorus sang between us and I hung up. My screensaver of Bram popped up, a picture I screenshot from his Instagram. I barely kept any apps on my home screen so I could always stare at him when I needed him most. It’s such a strange gift, being able to affect another person’s mood only with the power of existing.

I left Leah’s car and walked into the Walgreens to find her reading a magazine on the floor.

“How’d it go?” Leah asked, not looking up from her issue of National Geographic.

“Exactly how you said.” I admitted, hand on the back of my neck.

“I swear to god it almost feels like I’m dating you guys too.” She replied, placing the magazine back on the shelf.

“How have you done it?” I ask her, looking for an honest answer.

“I don’t know, I’m not getting any out of it either,” she responds jokingly, standing up with my help.

“I’m serious. Leah.”

Leah rolls her eyes, “Do we have to do this in a Walgreens?” She starts to walk towards the food aisle, knowing the first item that will go into Bram’s care package. I catch her by her arm and stop her.

“We do…I just feel…ever since I knew I am going to propose, I’ve regressed into my high school self where I’m…an idiot and stumble over even small and easy things with you guys and Bram. You’re keeping me balanced, Leah, and I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Leah hugs me in the middle of the aisle as an older lady is looking at the greeting cards. She notices us and crosses her hands on her chest.

“You’re right, Simon,” Leah says, “you have regressed a little because you’re making me being a friend a big deal! Spier, are you going to regress to the point where you’re back in the closet?”

We laugh and walk towards the Oreos. Walgreens is a different store right when it opens. The employees still look like there is a sparkle of hope in their eyes. Leah and I discuss the pros and cons of double stuff verses regular Oreos when I finally tell her what I’ve been thinking since I knew I wanted to propose to Bram.

“Leah, you’re going to have to be my Best Person, you know that right?”

She shot me a confused look and smiled. “That’s how you’re asking me to be your Best Person? As a joking demand?”

“It actually seemed the most fitting way to do it to be honest,” I defend.

A large smile grew across her face. “You’re actually right for once in your life, Si.”

We checked out and I added the Double Stuff Oreos (I won that argument) to my care package that also had additional snacks, stereotypical college food, new CDs for him to listen to (yes we both still buy and own CDs), a pack of legal writing pads that he loves to use in his journalism classes, pencils and pens with his name embroidered on them, a framed picture of us from this summer, and a bottle of vodka, the only liquor that doesn’t make Bram too nauseated. We dropped it off at the post office and the worker seemed shocked to see two college-age kids in there at nine A.M.

“Sorry about last night.” I said on our way back to the apartment.

“You don’t really have anything to apologize for, you just got drunk and…Simony.”

“I know, but…I felt like we didn’t talk about how Abby and Nick felt really. Like I stole focus.”

“Well, you did,” Leah replied laughing, “but I think it was wanted. It didn’t seem like they wanted to discuss it.”

“I’ll make it up to them. I’ll cook breakfast.”

“I know none of us will say no to that.”

Once we’re home, Nick and Abby are awake and lounging in the living room. We all catch up while I’m cooking breakfast and they’re cleaning up remnants of the party from last night.

“So other than those major projects for school, I also have been commissioned to do a piece for another Off-Broadway show.” Abby finishes.

“Sounds like a good problem to have,” Leah says, throwing the solo cups into our recycling bin.

“Truer words have never been spoken.” Abby replies, sipping on water.

“So guys, breakfast is ready.” I turn around and have two plates ready to go for Nick and Abby and we sit at the former pong table. “View this as an official apology for last night.”

Both Abby and Nick tilt their heads in mild annoyance.

“Like we told you last night, nothing to apologize for. BUT!” Abby shouted, “We did gloss over the fact that you are marrying Bram!”

“Proposing to, yes, I am!” I shout back as I bring Leah and my plates. “Right now the plan is propose in Shady C over our break on our anniversary with rings provided by my Dad.”

“Ahhh! So we’ll all still be in the city!”

“I hope so, it’s at the end of January right before classes start, will that work for you guys?”

“For you and Bram? We’ll make it work,” Nick replies, stuffing egg and sausage into him mouth.”

“I also got his mom’s blessing when she visited last month and I’m still waiting to speak to his Dad but he is a hard man to talk to now that Ruth is in kindergarten.”

Abby stared at me with a dropped jaw as Nick reminded steadfast at eating.

“You’re asking his parents?! That is so cute!”

“I’m hoping to convince his Dad to come fishing to at least lure him up here.”

“Was that a pun?” Nick said, laughing.

“Not intentionally,” I reply.

The rest of our Saturday was stereotypical college student life: movies, booze, GrubHub order, some light marijuana use, more booze and then the bars that night. New Haven is a great New England town in the fall and the leaves crunched beneath our shoes as we walked to the second bar of the night.

“So I want to say this only once more and then I’ll leave it alone. You guys doing okay since the break up?”

Nick and Abby stared at each other.

“We really are,” Nick answered. “Bram was a huge help too, not to say that to make you upset, but-”

“No, no, I’m sorry guys,” I respond. “I shouldn’t have reacted like that and I have no right to. Bram is his own person and I shouldn’t be so…territorial.”

“You’re not territorial, Si,” Leah said between handing us our drinks.

“Yeah, I am. Or was. I don’t know. Last night took me back to the insecure Simon and I didn’t like that. I’m so, so happy Bram was able to help you guys, and I need to work on trust.”

“Si, we can’t really pretend to understand how it was like to be outed or come out in general,” Nick said with a sympathetic smile. “But if you actually have trust issues, they’re valid. It’s okay to feel feelings.” He finished, laughing. “That’s a weird sentence, but don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“I guess…I just…I think it all stems back from me thinking that…”

I haven’t ever really told anyone this ever, not Leah, not Bram, not Ian. I was weighing actually being honest as my friend’s concerned eyes stared at me as we walked to a table.

“I guess I have never felt like I’m good enough for Bram, like he will wake up one morning and realize he’s only been with some weird kid from his high school and discover that I’m not enough for him.”

There. It was out there. I finally said it. There was some relief in being honest about my feelings, especially something I’ve felt since Bram and I started dating. Bram has never made me feel this way, let me put that out there. It’s all my brain, all of my psychosis.

“Simon…” Abby pulled my hand to her, Leah placed hers on top, and even Nick put his hand on the pile.

It was already helpful to be able to say those things out loud and I think they understood that I need to get through those feelings myself, but their hands on my hand made me realize that I’m not alone, ever, no matter what. I know it’s cheesy but sometimes you need to hear the cheesy Hallmark card sentences.

“How could you think you’re not good enough?” Nick asked.

“You may be a weird kid from high school, but that doesn’t mean it makes Bram love you less.” Leah added.

“In fact, it probably helped you,” Abby finished as she flashed her Abby smile. “Simon, I know there’s nothing we can really say otherwise until you believe it yourself, but you’re a catch, Bram is lucky to have you just as much as you are lucky to have him.”

“Yeah, you need some self-esteem.” Nick said blatantly. After some stares from Abby and Leah, he continued. “I mean, you…naw, you need to work on your self-esteem. Cause if you don’t, the constant doubt and questioning will end up hurting you the most. And Bram may not want to stay around to watch you do that to yourself.”

“Easier said that done.” Leah said. “But he’s right, Si. As soon as you look at your relationship as a partnership instead of…however you look at it now, all of this doubt will go away.”

I know it wasn’t any business of mine, but I couldn’t help myself and asked.

“Was that why you two split up?” They looked at one another and now I felt like a dick. “Sorry, I’m just the worst person this weekend.”

“No, no it’s fine,” Abby said, sipping her beer. “We both had kinda the opposite problem. Too much pride.”

“Relationships are about give and take and I don’t think we ever found that rhythm. Both can’t give and not take.”

“It’s like if two tops tried to date.” I say, letting it slip out before stopping myself. Nick’s eyes bugged out as Abby started laughing until all of us were laughing at my dumb joke.

After that, the rest of the night was spent like we never left Shady Creek. Memories were talked about and conversation moved quickly and anytime a song came on that Abby liked we danced in the booth. Once the bar closed we swung by the late night pizza place and got some food while discussing the merits of Katy Perry’s latest album (I gave her an A for effort and Nick defended the album with the old ‘she’s hot’ argument).

The next day, I woke up to a text from Bram.

I was told today I can have that weekend off! I can’t wait to see you. :)

There’s no better way to start your day than having your boyfriend confirm a weekend together. Bram works part time at WBAL as their social media intern who they also make work most weekends. He gets to write the summary sentences of articles or links to the news stories on their website as well as respond to comments on their Facebook page postings. It wasn’t the most glamorous job, but it gave him experience and he liked that part.

I woke up Leah to sweet talk her into letting me borrow her car to drive to Baltimore and she said yes, but there was a price. I had to wake up to cook breakfast every morning until the weekend I needed it and I felt that was a fair trade off.

This morning, however, I didn’t cook breakfast and we all went to grab food together before Nick and Abby drove back to New York. When they visit, it never feels like we had enough time together.

“I wish we could stay longer,” Abby cutely pouted.

“I know I can’t convince you guys to stay in New Haven over New York, but I’ll never stop trying.” Leah responded as they hugged.

“So I’m assuming we’ll all see each other next during Thanksgiving?” I say.

“You know it.” Nick says as we hug too. “I love New York, but it’s nice to get out every once in a while, remember that there are smells other than garbage and smog.”

We laugh as I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. It’s Bram’s Dad. I excused myself from the group.

“Simon, how are you?”

“Great,” I answer, a bit shocked. “How about you?”

“I’m also doing fine. So listen, I know you’ve been trying to get a hold of me and I thought I’d let you know that we’ll be in Boston visiting the wife’s family this coming weekend. If you were interested, we could try meet. I know you’ve been wanting to talk to me in person per your messages.”

I could hear a hint of annoyance in his voice, but as long as I annoyed him into at least seeing me, I can ask him. I didn’t want to ask either of Bram’s parents over the phone unless I absolutely had to, so I’m glad Bram’s step mom’s family lives in Boston.

“Yes, yes that sounds great! I was thinking, if you’re up for it, that we could meet in Provincetown and do some fishing?”

Did I sound as weird as I felt saying that sentence? I must have because all of my friend stopped talking and stared at me.

“I didn’t think you still had fishing in you, Simon. That sounds great, I will be sure to pack my poles.”

His tone was more relaxed after I mentioned fishing. Thank you Tracy Greenfeld.

“Super!” I jump and pump my arm at the audience of my friends. “Also, I know this will sound weird, but can you not tell Bram we’re doing this?”

There was a gut-wrenching pause on the line. I couldn’t say that sentence without sounding weird. Nick shook his head and smiled at me as I flipped him off.

“Okay,” he started. “Can I ask why?”

“Yes, but I won’t be able to tell you until we see each other.”

Another pause as I placed my free hand on the back of my neck. Abby had her fingers crossed and Leah leaned on the car waiting for the call to be over.

“Okay, I’m sure you have your reasons. I won’t tell him.”

Wonderful! I finally got him to spend some one on one time with me. Before I hung up, I gave Bram’s dad the information on where we’d meet to fish. Since speaking to Tracy, I had tried to find the best place in the area to fish and you couldn’t go wrong with Cape Cod.

“Fishing? You?” Leah said.

“Gotta make sure Elijah is in a good mood when I ask for his blessing. He loves fishing and we’ll be out in the ocean, so good views too? That’s important when you fish, right?”

“So you’re going on boat, alone, into the ocean with the father of your boyfriend of whom you’re going to tell him you’re planning on marrying his son?” Nick teased.

“Yeah.”

“If you disappear, I think we’ll start with Elijah.”

“Shut up and get back to New York.”

It was always hard to see my friends leave after they visited. Abby waved goodbye until they turned the corner to head back to New York.

"Can I borrow the car this weekend?" I ask hands folded in a begging manner?

"Duh," Leah said, rolling her eyes and following me back inside.

I couldn’t really concentrate the entire week, trying to figure out the best way to ask Bram’s father.

“Dude, just ask it,” Ian said to me. We were in our final acting class and in between scene studies of our classmates.

“I don’t think I can with Elijah.” I answer. “He’s…not scary, but he’s hard to read and that makes me nervous.”

“If he said no, would that prevent you from still proposing?”

I’ve been so focused on preparing what I’m going to do when I propose that I didn’t think of that part. Which is bad because I still don’t know where in Shady Creek I would take him or what I’d do. I need to figure that out soon, but first I need to get past this weekend.

“The thought of not marrying Bram is worse than Elijah saying no.” I answer. “I’d…probably still do it even if he didn’t say yes.”

Ian laughed, “Then why even ask him? Isn’t asking permission a dated step in marrying someone these days?”

“Yeah, but it seems right to do ask. When it comes to Bram, I want to make sure to do everything right so that the proposal is perfect and then we can plan the wedding together because as you’ve probably noticed, I’m not the best planner.”

“Dude, I think you’re doing well for winging it.” Ian said drinking some water. “Brammy is going to love whatever you do. Do you know how you’re going to ask yet?”

“Ugh…no.”

“He likes soccer, would you want to do it on a soccer field? Oh my god, you should! Then you can have Bram’s family and friends on Bram’s side of the field and your family on your side and you can have them stand as Forwards, Midfielders, and Defenders and oh! You and Brammy and both of your parents can be the Forwards!”

I stared at Ian with bugged eyes. He noticed and laughed.

“You’ve thought a lot about this huh, Ian. You sure you don’t want to marry Bram?”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” Ian joked back. “But Bram is missing something that I would never be ale to get past.”

“Boobs?”

Ian put his hand on my shoulder, “Boobs.”

Ian did me thinking the rest of the week. I really wish not everyone hated my high school idea because all of the significant places we were, we spent the most time in that damn high school. I can’t really propose in our either of our bedrooms because one there is not enough space if I invite people and two I’d probably get distracted and we’d just end up having sex and I’d forget to propose.

Would it be cheesy to do it in the parking lot when we had out first lunch and kiss as a couple?"

The more I thought about it, the more and more it did make sense. Bram still has his old car and maybe I could convince the manager to let us go into the store after hours.

“Hmmm…” Leah thought after I told her the idea. It was Thursday night and I we were waiting for our lasagna to finish cooking.

“You hate it.” I ask leaning back I my chair and headed back to square one.

“I don’t…hate it….but it also just doesn’t seem like the most romantic place to propose.”

You weren’t in the car with us when we ate Oreos and kissed while it rained.

“We really didn’t have a place outside of school. Our places ended up being in the lunch room or the fair or…”

That’s it. It was the place we built the foundation of our relationship. All of those moments happened at high school. And as weird or tacky others may feel it is, they didn’t have the relationship Bram and I had. They didn’t have the emails that both Bram and I pined over when we didn’t know who the other was. I have to ask him at Creekwood. It’s where Bram and I discovered each other.

“What is it, Si?” Leah asks as I have been staring into space.

“When I propose, it’s happening at Creekwood.”

“Si, I thought-”

“I know, everyone else thought it was a bad idea, but you told me to trust my gut about this proposal and my gut is screaming Creekwood. It’s the best place, it has our history. We were in the parking lot on a ferris wheel when he kissed me. How could it be anywhere else?”

Leah looked at me with loving eyes and let a smile grow on her face, very un-Leah like.

“What,” I started. “You’re scaring me.”

“I think you should do it.”

“Yeah?!”

“Yeah. You’re right, it all happened there and I know Bram would love it too.”

My stomach warmed and twilled and back flipped out of excitement. Finally got someone on my side with Creekwood and now I can even tell Bram’s Dad where I’m going to do it if he asks!

“Ah! I means a lot you are on board with this.”

Leah was quiet again and I even swear she was tearing up.

“Leah? You okay? Now you’re really scaring me.” I joke.

“I’m just so happy for you and Bram…Can you propose as soon as possible so we can all be happy together?!”

“I’m trying to make January come as fast as I can.”

I could hear both my Dad and Ian say ‘that’s what she said’ in my head.

Leah hugged me and made us watch a horror movie so she could, in her words, get out of this lovey-dovey mood.

I woke up on Friday and the feeling of happiness was soon overshadowed by my nerves of Bram’s dad. Luckily I woke up to a text from Bram.

I received your care package my amazing boyfriend. Thank you so much, I love it all <<33

                                                                            Hey cutie :)

. .. … Hey handsome :) How’s your Friday?

                                                                           Good. Kinda nervous

. .. … Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Do you have an audition coming up?

Ironically, he wasn’t entirely wrong, so I won’t be entirely lying.

                                Yeah, it’s a really good role and I want it so bad

. .. … Then you’ll get the part! Once you set your mind to something, you get it! It’s how you got me. <3

                                            You’re just saying that cause you love me.

. .. … True, but you’re also super talented. And super cute. You have me talking in fragments when I think about you too much

I’m always talking in fragments, you’ve been tripping me up since you were Blue. You’re already making me feel good about the audition.

. .. … Glad I can help. I love you, break a leg!

                                                                              <3 <3 <3

It helped me get through the rest of the day, but I was super distracted in my acting my theatre history class and couldn’t focus. I fantasized about proposing to Bram alone. Just him and me and the ring. Then I pictured kissing him and running my hands down his back onto the curve of his butt. Bram would pull me close to him and smile between a kiss, loving when my hands found their way back there. It was good I was sitting as it would be embarrassing to walk in my basketball shorts.

I calm myself down and run home to beat Leah so that I could…uh…take care of myself after class. It had been the longest two months away from Bram and his good heart and beautiful body wasn’t making it easier. Once I threw away the tissue, I began packing my suitcase. Bram would have already packed last week for this trip had he been going. I smile and pack the Elliot Smith shirt he got me. I’ll need him there in spirit more than ever.

Leah and Ian came home together as to follow the same path as last weekend. I turn down drinking because I have to be up early to get to Provincetown.

“Know what you’re going to say yet?” Ian asks, chugging a beer.

“No, I think I’ll try to bring it up casually in conversation. When we talk, it usually finds its way to Bram. It’s really the only thing we have in common.” I say laughing.

“Trust that gut, Si, you got this.” Ian answered, crushing the can and letting out a loud burp. I looked to Leah to catch her legendary eye roll. But she didn’t roll her eyes. She was laughing. Strange, but I suppose people evolve. But does Leah evolve like that? Last year she would have scoffed and left the room.

“You’ll be fine, Si. Go into it like you did with Tracy and you’ll be alright.”

With that, they left to meet some theatre kids at a bar so I could sleep.

I dreamt about Bram. I dreamt we were back on the ferris wheel and that we couldn’t stop kissing. It was a great gift from the universe to give me that subconscious boost of confidence. It was interrupted, however, by my alarm. I got up and grabbed the keys to Leah’s car. She left them on the kitchen counter next to luke warm waffles and a note.

‘Use the Belgian waffles as fuel to get your man! – Ian’ ‘Si, the waffles were from me, but Ian helped stir the batter. There’s an ice coffee in the fridge for you. - <3 Leah’

I opened the fridge to a large cup and grabbed it with a smile. The four hour drive went a lot faster than I expected. Bram recently got into making his own playlists for me of music he found himself listening too. I loved everything he sent me, but maybe it’s because I know he picked it and I love him.

The one thing he did pick up from me was listening more to older music than current pop or hip-hop. 90s R&B was his jam at the moment and he also mixed in 80’s stadium rock. It was quite the eclectic mix that helped keep me awake along with the ice coffee. Bram also snuck in some love songs and I swooned quietly on the road towards the Atlantic Ocean.

I arrived early enough to meet Elijah at a breakfast place. I walked in to ask for a table.

“Simon!”

Or so I thought. Bram’s father was in a booth and waving me over. I wave awkwardly because I can’t help myself and I go to the booth to sit.

“Coffee?” He asked.

“Yeah, love some.” That was a lie, I had to pee but I underestimated that Bram’s father would be so much like Bram. Elijah poured me a cup from the pot left on the table the singular cook who also was the waiter.

“So how is Ruth doing? I can’t believe she’s in kindergarten now.”

“You and me both, Simon. She’s good, though she doesn’t like to be called Ruth ever since she started. She wants to go by Ruby now.”

“Kids make fun of her already? She’s in kindergarten.”

Elijah picked up his cup and placed it too his lips while his eyebrows answered. “Yeah, I guess that’s the way the world is headed.” He licked the coffee droplets off his mustache with this tongue.

“So, I as able to rent a ship, just us two. Bluefish Tuna. He’ll be ready for us in about forty-five minutes.”

“Simon,” Elijah started. “You said you would tell me why I couldn’t tell my son you were meeting me. Are you ready to tell me?”

Is this how Dads treat all guys who try to date their children? Dad wasn’t like this to Bram, was he?

“Y-Yes,” I tripped over my words. “I wanted to talk to you while we were fishing, but I can talk now.”

The cook came back with a plate of eggs and with extremely buttery toast.

“Same thing for him,” Elijah ordered to and the cook complied, walking back to the grill. “If you want to wait, Simon, we can wait.”

Okay, am I looking into things or is this starting to feel like an interrogation? He starts digging in as I grasp my coffee mug and take a sip. It’s not that hot and it’s not that good, but it’s something to do while I’m pretending not worry about what he’s thinking.

“No, no I can tell you. I wanted let you know how happy your Bram has made me.”

“Abraham,” He said, a little defensive. “Call him Abraham.”

“Yes, of course, Abraham.”

“Well I’m glad to hear that. Is that it?” He said, staring at this plate and not into my eyes.

“No,” I say as my stomach is falling into a pit. “If that was it, I could have told you that on the phone.”

It was a risk to speak like that to him, but perhaps it will garner his respect. His eyes showed that it did as he looked at me up and down and shook his head. “I suppose you’re right.” He pushes the plate away and crosses his hands on the table. “So what is it that needed to be said to me in person?”

I touch the Elliot Smith shirt and I think of the way Bram gets lost in my eyes and then coyly smiles as he looks away. It’s weird that I can also see the parts of Bram in his father. I swallow as the cook bangs on the grill top.

“I love your son, very much. So much, in fact, that I’m going to ask him to marry me, and I know it would mean a lot to Bram if I was able to tell him I got your blessing to do so.”

Elijah’s face froze as soon as I said marry and didn’t move. It felt like time stood still and though it was only a few seconds, I was over analyzing every single micro expression on his face. I didn’t break eye contact with me and he didn’t break eye contact with me. The cook slid the plate in front of me, but we never took our eyes off each other.

Suddenly, Elijah’s face exploded into a big, Bram-like smile and he slammed the table with his palm. A boisterous laughter followed as confusion poured over my face, which actually caused him to laugh even more.

“I’m sor – I’m sorry, Simon. Oh my god!” He continued to laugh in the empty diner until he picked up his napkin and dabbed his eyes. I still sat in confusion as he calmed down. “I couldn’t resist. You believed it so much, did you really think I was that kind of father?” More laughs poured out of him as he pulled his plate back to him to continue eating.

“Simon, I apologize, but Tracy can’t help herself and she spilled the beans. So I knew about your intentions, and all I can say is that of course you have my blessing to marry my son.”

The biggest sigh of relief washed over me as the tough-Dad act fell.

“Thank you, Elijah, that’s, thank you for that.”

“Hey, you will only be able to call me Elijah for a little bit longer, soon you’ll get to call me Dad.”

The Bram-like smile returned to his face as he put eggs on his toast and took a bite.

“I will say though,” Elijah continued. “I was very happy with how you phrased the question.”

“Oh?” I say, now feeling comfortable to eat.

“You said ‘I’m going to ask’ instead of ‘I want to ask’ or ‘I intend to ask,’ implying the choice was made and that I could either like it or dislike it, but that you were going to do it. Since Bram came out, I had to re-structure what I wanted for him in his life. I had an idea when I thought he liked girls, but when he told me he liked men, I needed to go back to the drawing board. But it’s hard, thinking about the kind of man I wanted Bram to end up with and when he brought you to meet me the first time, I always liked you because I could always look over and see Bram confidently stand by your side. And his confidence was because of you. That is exactly the kind of man I want him to be with: confident.”

I fought the urge to let a tear come out of my eye. “To be honest with you, Elijah, it’s funny that you see confidence in me because it’s something I’ve been working on since high school.”

“You could have fooled me,” Elijah answered. “Simon, it takes a lot of courage to meet the father of your love because when you date someone’s child, you’re dating a part of the parent. You did it. You kept calling, you kept on it, and not in an annoying way, but in a responsible way. You made it happen because you have confidence. Simon, Bram has told me your fishing stories.” He said laughing. “You hate fishing. But you tried to meet me on my level to ask me a hard question. Working on confidence? Simon, you have confidence.”

“Thank you, sir. That really means a lot coming from you.”

“I don’t say things I don’t mean, Simon. Regardless of the genders of people in love, what you can’t fake is the longing looks you two share. To be honest, this moment wasn’t as much of a surprise to me, it was more of when it would happen.”

And that quickly, I have two Moms and two Dads. Elijah gave me an opportunity to bow out of fishing, but I respectfully declined. I had to show him I meant business. I paid the check, again trying to show him what kin of man I am, but he already covered the breakfast before I walked in the door.

“You know, I can see where Bram gets his strategic planning from.”

“And that’s why he needs you, the impulsive confidence.”

We left the diner and the sun had just began to paint the sky a thin red and gold on the horizon. Elijah taught me a lot about what it was to deep-sea fish and I honestly had a genuinely great time.

Until I became sea sick.

Elijah laughed at me while I puked the eggs back up over the side of the ship.

“Not a sailor, huh Simon?”

I spit the lingering taste out of my mouth.

“Not yet, but I’ll get there.”