#my memory is a bit fuzzy though so that’ll be my problem once I’ve made further progress in da game

[relivethisdream]

Sticking your Great Gyatt Grove out for The Rizzler… Is that anything. Please. It’s so cold

[soft-hanlon]

Here I Am, With Arms Unfolding

 note: this is my side account, i wanted to post this to my main ( @s-onora ), but i’m having problems with that account right now but i’ll hopefully have posted this to my main within the next few days! so this fic is a gift to @the-antman for the @it-fandom-exchange event! i hope i was able to create something domestic and enjoyable to read! 

3k words / fix-it fic / reddie / mentions of stanpat

read on ao3

"What's goin' on in that funny head of yours?" Eddie moves his thumb across Richie's forehead, just like he's touchin' the silk at the market back in New York, all delicate n' gentle, revelling in the sensation.

Richie looks up at him from where he lays in the grass with a grin, toothier than any Eddie's seen on Richie's mouth since they arrived back in this town n' it's reminiscent of a specific expression he remembers from his childhood that is just so Richie—he's reminded of ice cream dripping over dainty fingers n' lips chapped from the dry heat, sticky with candy.

"Just a bit sore between the ears, Eds." He knocks the side of his head comically n' Eddie slides his palm beneath Richie's head, as he lifts it into his lap. It's better that Richie rests his head in Eddie's lap rather than on the grass, Eddie thinks, it's more comfortable—even if Eddie knows that the ache in Richie's head isn't physical.

Eddie pets Richie's hair back from his forehead, n' watches his milky skin catch the warmth of the July sun, "I know, 'Chie, wanna talk about it?" Richie cacchinates, n' thinks on the pet name, he thinks warmly of it—maybe it's one Eddie might've used in their teens, but it's still fuzzy.

"Do you think we'll forget this time?" The question lingers in the air, in Eddie's ears, for several moments as he moves his finger to stroke over the bridge of Richie's nose. Richie goes cross-eyed trying to watch his finger n' Eddie laughs, a real laugh, n' realises that he doesn't remember the last time he felt honestly happy enough to do so—not with Ma, not with Marty, not with his work friends. "I don't want to forget." Richie murmurs afterwards, azure irises masked over by his eyelids.

"I don't want to forget either, an' I have a feeling we won't." Eddie rests his head back against the trunk of the tree, doesn't stop stroking Richie's face n' petting his hair in a way that feels so specifically intimate, in a way he's never done before. "Hopefully, we'll remember the good things an' eventually the pain will fade. We were forced apart an' into unhappy lives for nearly three decades, an' I don't know about the others but I could always feel it—I always felt this weight on my chest, of knowing that something wasn't right."

"I felt it, too."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm. Since leaving this shithole the first time, I've been living in LA, I've got a radio show n' a comedy gig on the side n' even though I love doing those things it's never felt like enough, even though it's the life I've always wanted. I thought there was something wrong with me." Richie shrugs, "It never even occurred to me that I couldn't remember where I'd grown up."

"I was always happiest with you guys. I think all of my memories are back now since we've been here for a month, an' I hope I can keep them when we leave." Richie blows a lock of hair out of his own eyes n' sits up, crossing his legs 'in a basket', directly facing Eddie. It seems his hyper energy has returned after a few hours of sitting out here in perfect serenity.

"All you needed was to see your old pal Richie!" Richie dives into an impression of an old radio announcer, "Lean, one-armed-machine Eddie Kaspbrak absolutely brand new after saucy reunion with hot-shot Richie Tozier!" He boops Eddie's nose, watching the blood rush into his cheeks as he giggles coyly.

"Maybe." Eddie shrugs slightly, smiling in Richie's direction. Richie composes himself a little, n' places a tentative hand on Eddie's knee, keeping it strictly in one place so that Eddie doesn't end up uncomfortable.

"Listen, Eds, I..." Richie sighs, looking to Eddie's eyes through the blond's round spectacles. "I've spent my whole adult life wanting something that I wasn't sure I could really have. I've been looking for fellas since I moved to California on the down-low n' I don't know... I could never really find someone I wanted n' I think I realised why when we came back here."

"Oh, yeah?" Eddie asks, pushing his glasses up a little. He just smiles warmly, doesn't comment on the fact that Richie's maybe just come out to him. "You can tell me, if you want."

Richie sighs, trailing his finger across Eddie's knee n' back to where he started, glancing up at him. He gives an encouraging nod, n' Richie wonders briefly how he ever could have forgotten him. "Don't wanna make you all jittery, Eds, ya probably won't like what I have to say."

"It's okay, say it anyway." Eddie shakes his head, still beaming, "I don't think you can say anything that'll scare me, not after everything we've seen."

Richie opens his mouth, but decides to shut it again. He begins tapping his finger against Eddie's knee subconsciously, n' Eddie brings his only hand to rest on top of Richie's, gently bringing his tapping to a halt. Richie considers for a moment, n' then turns his hand over so his palm slides against Eddie's. The blond's eyebrows shoot up past his dandelion curls, but he doesn't move his hand, waiting for Richie to do something else.

"Eds..."

"Yeah, Rich?" His voice is soft like Richie's cotton bed sheets at home, Richie wants to wrap himself up in the comfort of it to avoid the cumbersome weight of the conversation most likely following. But Eddie's still looking at him, a rhapsodic smile slowly forming over his lips, Richie's not sure it's even there at first. N' suddenly, there's a hand on his forearm, his bicep, his shoulder, his neck, n' then he's being kissed on the mouth. It's sweet-tempered n' careful n' once the initial shock wears off, Richie thinks it makes sense. Eddie's always been so brave, willing to take risks even if the outcome may not be in his favour. He's always been gentle, too—Richie often wondered, as a teen, if Eddie kissed with as much solicitude as he treated his friends with.

Richie doesn't have a lot of time to return Eddie's affections before the man in question lets their lips depart from each other with a soft click, n' his hand slips from Richie's jaw. "M' sorry if that was too forward, it just seemed like that's where you were going an' needed a bit of help." Eddie pushes his glasses up from where they'd slid down his nose, looking a little blissed out.

"Leave with me. Come to California."

"California? You want me to go with you?"

Richie clasps Eddie's hand in both of his own, squeezing it gently, "Please, Eds, come live with me, I don't want to be apart from you again. I have so much space, a spare bedroom if you want it. You'd live like a king, I promise."

Eddie huffs out a soft, astonished laugh, "Really? Rich, I couldn't invade your life like that, it sounds like a huge change for you. Even then, I'm the owner of a company in New York."

"You could move your company to Los Angeles, I can get in touch with someone who can help with the details. Besides, there's plenty of celebrities looking for limos in LA. I want you there, Eds." Richie sighs softly, "Down in the cistern, I thought you were going to die. In the hospital, when you wouldn't wake up for hours, it was the worst I've ever felt. I don't want to feel like that again. So if you'd like to, I want you to live with me."

"Okay... okay, I'll go with you." This time, it's Richie who goes in for a kiss. He cups Eddie's face in his hands n' brings their lips together, making sure to be gentle. He feels Eddie beaming against his mouth, n' he thinks this is maybe the greatest he's ever felt in his life. The way he feels, it's warm n' glowing n' fuzzy n' he knows that this is what he's wanted his entire life. Ever since the summers of his youth, when he was running free, full of July sunshine and orange pulp, n' his hand was in that of another's, the same hand holding onto his at this very moment.

"You sure? You really want to come with me?" Richie asks when they part, cupping his hand under Eddie's elbow n' leaving the other on Eddie's face.

"Being back here, it's made me realise I don't wanna be in New York, I don't belong with Myra. I don't think I was really sure who I did belong with until, well, right now," Eddie smiles coyly, "but now that I know, it makes sense—you were always different to me." Richie grins, sliding his hand up to drape over the back of Eddie's so that he can lean in n' kiss the skin on the inside of his wrist. "Jeez, Rich, you're gonna make me go bananas."

That comment receives him a gently pinch of the cheek n' an exclamation of, "Cute, cute, cute!" Eddie doesn't pull away like he used to, embarrassed, n' instead just laughs, his cheeks warming fast. Richie's face softens, he looks so pleased that he was able to make Eddie laugh. He cups Eddie's face in his hands, turning his head a little so he can press a kiss to the blond's cheekbone.

"Your moustache tickles!" Eddie giggles light and airy, snorting quietly n' gasping out of surprise when he does. He whines, covering his flushing face with two hands, obviously embarrassed. Richie's eyes light up, and he gently pries Eddie's hands away from his face, grinning.

"Oh, that's so cute, Eds, I forgot you do that." Richie realises with a pang that he's missed that noise all this time. He remembers teasing Eddie gently for it in their childhood, n' kissing his cheek when his face turned red n' he pouted at Richie's words.

"Okay, Rich, let's go back to the townhouse before I explode." Eddie pats his own cheeks in what Richie assumes is some sort of attempt to rid himself of the redness in his face. The taller of the two stands, helping Eddie up n' letting his large hands come to rest on Eddie's waist, making his body look much more dainty. The blond squeaks as Richie presses him back against the tree, leaning in for another kiss. Eddie accepts it without a problem anyway, laughing into Richie's mouth when Richie tugs gently on his suspenders to pull him just that bit closer.

"Sorry, Eds, jus' wanted one more before we had to go back to the losers." Richie murmurs, n' Eddie softens a little more if that's even possible, kisses the corner of his mouth, then clicks their lips back into place together for a brief moment. "You're swell." Richie sighs, smiling all dopey n' euphoric-like.

"You know I think you are, too." Eddie squeezes Richie's shoulder, hand sliding upwards to cup the side of his neck. Richie loves Eddie's voice, thinks that if it were a shape, it'd be something with gentle curves. "Now, the losers are probably expecting us to be back soon, we've been away for hours. C'mon." Richie finally lets go of Eddie's suspenders and clasps his hand around the other's, nearly engulfing it.

They walk back to the townhouse, not in any sort of rush, just enjoying one another's company until they have to face their friends again n' finally separate their hands. "You wanna maybe... spend the night with me?" Eddie asks as they approach the townhouse, "I'm not expecting anything—I jus'... I really liked spending time with you this way." He adds quickly, realising how it might sound.

Richie chuckles, pinching Eddie's cheek, "Of course, my love, I would enjoy nothing more." He brings Eddie's hand to his mouth, kissing his knuckles n' slowly, reluctantly, letting go of it. Eddie gives him a bitter-sweet, understanding smile, n' they make their way inside the town house, ready to face their friends again.

They're welcomed back with smiles n' alcohol from behind the bar that no one ever tended to. They talk into the small hours of the night, reminiscing on their childhoods together, times when they weren't being tormented by a murderous clown—Richie and Eddie sparing soft glances towards each other when no one's looking. Slowly, they all start to retreat back to their rooms one by one, until only Stan, Eddie and Richie are left.

"Alright, I think it's time for me to go to bed. I have to make some calls which'll probably take some time." Eddie tells them softly, standing up from the sofa, n' setting his almost empty glass of white wine down on the bar. "I'll see you tomorrow, g'night."

Richie watches him walk up the stairs, disappearing around the corner before turning back to Stan, who's been watching him from behind his glass, eyebrow raised. "What's up, Staniel?"

"Nothing." Stan blows one of his curls out of his eyes, sipping at his wine n' waving him off. "Can I ask you something?"

Richie grins, n' it spreads far enough to reach his eyes, "Well, sure you can, what's up?"

"When we all leave Derry, are you planning on going back to California alone?"

Richie's brow furrows, "I'm not sure I follow, Stanny."

"Come on, Richie. I'm not as oblivious as the others, give me some credit here." Richie chews at the inside of his lip, averting his eyes. "Listen, we don't have to talk about it now, or ever, if that's what you want. But I think whatever it is you have with Eddie, you should pursue it. I don't know how long you've felt this way, but I'm guessing it's been a really long time." His friend doesn't say anything, just sighs n' nods slowly. "You deserve a win right now, it's been rough being back here."

"Really?"

"Of course. I love Patty more than I've ever loved someone before, I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have her. You should be able to openly say that about whoever you love, too." Stan simpers, standing from his chair, "I'm going to get some sleep, and you're going to go an’ see Eddie because, my God, it's been physically painfully watching you too make sappy eyes at each other all night."

"Alright, Staniel, I will." Richie chuckles, shaking his head at his words, "Could you maybe do me a favour? I wouldn't usually ask you to keep things from the other losers, but would it be okay if you didn't tell them about this? Me n' Eds, we're not ready for that."

"Yeah, don't worry, Richie. I wouldn't say anything regardless." Stan pats Richie's shoulder, "I'll see you in the morning."

"G'night, Stan." Richie waits until Stan makes his way upstairs n' disappears around the corner to retreat to his room for night before quietly jogging up the stairs so that none of the losers peek out of their rooms to catch him sneaking into Eddie's room. He knocks softly against the wood n' he only has to wait for a moment before Eddie opens the door, phone pressed between his ear n' his shoulder, a smile growing on his mouth when he sees that it's Richie. He opens the door and motions for him to come in n’ sit down. He's already changed into his pyjamas, n’ he crosses the room to his suitcase, lifting out a pair of sweatpants n' turning them around to offer to Richie. He's muttering quietly into the phone as he does so, clearly stressed by whatever the person on the other end of the line is saying.

He turns away while Richie changes out of his clothes n' into the sweatpants; they're a little snug, but he'll take them over having to go back to his room to change. Once he's changed, Eddie comes back to him, n' climbs under the bed comforter, motioning for Richie to join him. "I know, Myra, I'm sorry. But you know that staying together would be unfair to both of us." He sighs, voice quiet, almost guilty.

It finally dawns on Richie, n' so he slowly lays down next to Eddie, wraps his arms around him. He presses his mouth against Eddie's temple, rubbing soothing fingers over Eddie's bicep. "Please, listen to me, Marty. I don't love you the way I'm supposed to, I can't lie to you or myself anymore, we can't be together. I'll explain myself tomorrow, you can have whatever you want when we separate, but I won't be coming back home to stay. It's really late, I'm going to get some sleep and you should, too. I'll call you again tomorrow." There's a few moments where he doesn't speak, just listens to whatever his soon-to-be ex-wife says, n' then hangs up the phone, dropping it onto the bedside table n' dropping his head back against Richie's arm, sighing.

"Y'alright, Eds?" Richie whispers, tightening his arms around Eddie's torso. Eddie lets him, the frown lines on his face finally smoothing out as Richie pulls the comforter up and over their shoulders, keeping them warm.

"Yeah, I'm okay, Rich. Myra's just a little hard to shake, that's all." He tells him under his breath, moving to wrap his arm around Richie, too, finally feeling the aching flood out of himself. "I'll deal with it, tomorrow, I jus' wanna sleep right now, is that okay?"

"Of course, it's okay, my love. I'll be here with you tomorrow, an' I'll give you as many cuddles as you need and want." Richie chuckles, pressing his fingers gently into Eddie's side, eliciting a giggle from him, light n' airy n' euphoric. Eddie grabs his hand to stop him, but ultimately keeps his hand there, tilting his head up to kiss him.

"Thank you, Rich, being back here's been... a little crazy, but I'm glad we all came back. I'm glad we're together again." The blond yawns, tucking his head into Richie's pale neck, his slow breaths tickling Richie's neck, but he doesn't mind; it's a reminder that Eddie's here, breathing, alive."

"Me too, Eds, me too."

[wishthefish916]

What Is Anti?

Holy fucking shit, I’ve literally had this saved as a draft on this site for MONTHS and just haven’t posted it out of spite, but if ever there was a call to action this is is. I published this theory a while ago, but I wasn’t completely happy with how I’d written it at the time so I took it down a few minutes later. I’d originally planned on never revisiting this again, but while developing a different theory which will probably be coming out soon, I was forced to revisit this work, so here we are. The science of Antisepticeye. What he is, where he came from and how to stop him. It’s a long one lads, so buckle the fuckle up.

If we’re ever gonna stop Anti, which is kinda the point of all this theorizing anyways, we have to know what exactly he is. To figure that out, we need to look into what effect he has on the world around him. Looking back at the ever expanding collection of Anti moments ((thank the heavens for his wiki and a whole lotta spare time)), the only thing that tied them all together is that the person in the webcam felt a sense of danger, be it from a jump scare or high suspense or even from hearing Anti’s name, the brain of the person who was recording sensed danger, which triggered a hormonal fight-or-flight response in their body in the moment Anti presents himself to us, and it’s usually preceded with a long gap in symptoms surfacing. What else do we know of that lies dormant for a long period of time before something triggers it to wake up which usually leads to chaos for whatever system it’s in? Jack A virus!

So what kind of virus is he? Well, in bigger videos like Say Goodbye and Kill JSE the person on the screen communicated that they felt physical effects of his presence, like nausea, aches, delirium and twitching and in some cases bleeding from the eyes. This tells me that if Anti is a virus he’s a biological one.

However I cannot ignore the biggest telltale sign of Anti showing up which is the game or webcam ((and sometimes the person)) glitching, audio disturbances, and corrupted html text((Zalgo)), which would tell me that he is a computer virus.

So lads, correct me if I’m wrong in saying that if Anti is indeed a virus, he wouldn’t be exclusively biological or the technological, but rather a biomechanical virus((I totally didn’t make up the term shush)).

Being made up of both biological and technological components mean infection could have happened just about anywhere. For the sake of clarity I’ll be breaking it up into biological and technological components as I’m fairly certain the two are symbiotically dependent on each other, considering the physical effects coincide almost completely with the technological ones.

If infection was controlled by the biological aspects, that would mean he was infected by contact with the virus. Either he touched it, breathed it in, ate or drank it, kissed it, or bled on it. For all the other egos who’ve been infected, this makes perfect sense. JJ cutting his finger right before the glitching shows up, Henrik almost never wearing his surgical mask when handling his infected patients, Chase heavily drinking in the moments leading up to Dark Silence, but Jack is a different story. The first time we saw Anti was in FNAF Sister Location, and that video had none of the above in it. That tells me he was infected well before he first showed himself, which makes sense logically. People don’t show flu symptoms as soon as they come into contact with the flu virus. It has to fester for a little bit before showing any symptoms, so why should Anti be any different?

So where did Jack get infected? If he did physically come into contact with the virus, it would have been in a live action video. From a storytelling perspective, it wouldn’t make sense to not showcase an important plot point clearly, and live action is the best medium to do such. That brought me to the 2015 pumpkin carving video, but nothing too suspicious happened. There was no bleeding, he didn’t eat anything, while he did kiss the pumpkin no bodily fluids were exchanged, and breathing it in or touching it seems implausible, because it would mean the virus already existed in his house, which means he would have been infected long before that video.

The only other live action videos he’s done, and correct me if I’m wrong, were the 700,000 subscriber ghost pepper challenge, the ALS Ice bucket challenge, and his regular vlogs. Sean is incredible at blurring the line between normal video and ego video, but these videos all had an underlying sincerity to them, where he was trying to communicate to us his appreciation or with the ALS video trying to get us to donate to charity, and I find it highly improbable for him to try and undermine the meaning behind them with an ego clue.

That leads me to believe that it were the technological aspects of the virus that infected him, and that’s where things get kinda tricky. Now, computer viruses are actually relatively easy to come into contact with, the problem definitely isn’t there. Maybe Jack was sent it in an email, maybe he went to a sketchy website, maybe he downloaded a game that had a little something extra up it’s sleeve. No biggie, it happens. The logic leap is when the computer virus starts affecting his real life person, even when he’s not using the computer, a la Say Goodbye.

I believe immersion is the answer. Immersion in game play is something a large portion of game developers strive for, making the player feel like they were actually inside their game. This is one of the hardest and most important things a story driven game developer can do, and also one of Jack’s key defining features in games he tends to really enjoy.

I think, in the story that Sean has created for us with the egos, when Jack is doing a lets play and he gets really immersed in the game, he actually does exist inside that game. That feeling of total immersion, those moments when his brain is unable to separate the game from reality, they happen because of him actually being inside the game on his computer. If Jack were to download a game that had Anti’s virus on it, and then became immersed in the game play experience long enough to come into contact with said virus, it’s entirely possible that the virus stayed with him when he left the game/no longer was immersed.

Well, if we’re going to find out how to cure the thing, we’ve first got to find the location of patient zero, i.e. the video that started it all. If we know where it came from, we’ll know how it works and that’ll make it immensely easier to stop it. Are there any games out there that Jack played that 1) truly immersed him as a player into it’s world, 2) share a strong resemblance to what we already see in Anti, and 3) was uploaded some time before the release of Sister Location. There are two bigguns that spring to mind.

Undertale is probably the most well known and well liked series on Jack’s entire channel. While he was playing he became heavily invested in each of the characters, even the baddies, and so did we. We grew to care for them all as if they were our closest friends. When they were hurt, we screamed in protest. When they were comforted, we felt all warm and fuzzy. When we reached the true ending, we all cried. I would most certainly consider that immersion, wouldn’t you?

Not only did Undertale immerse the player and viewer, it messed with your actual computer files. If you do a genocide route even once, uninstalling and reinstalling the game won’t wipe it’s memory of the route. You have to dig through your computer to find and delete the file that tells steam what route you chose if you want to play the game brand new again. Not to mention the game frequently closing itself unprompted, which has a well known history for corrupting recording footage. Potential for corruption? Check.

New paragraph for new point because oh my god, there’s a lot. Several people have already pointed out the similarities between Flowey and Anti, but just in case you haven’t seen it yet or wanted a nice recap, here we go.The voice acting Jack chose for Flowey sounds just like a higher pitched Anti voice. This was the first time he ever layered audio files to achieve a more sinister voice effect. The thumbnails following his fight with Flowey all hold trademark characteristics of Anti video thumbnails. Our first ever interaction with him ends with him attempting to murder Jack. Their laughs are one in the same. At certain points in the game, you can find Flowey following you, keeping an eye on things, if you will. His boss fight, oh my g o d. He kills the dude in charge, everything cuts to black, and next thing we know there’s a glitchy face laughing at us through a screen, telling us about how he’s the one in charge and how this is his world and how everything he’s done was all our faults, after which his eyes turn red and green and he starts puppeteering controlling six different souls, using their different skills to his own personal advantage so he can fulfill some unspoken objective. Gee, sound familiar? 

However, despite all of this, Undertale was not patient zero. Why I still listed all the game’s similarities despite this, I promise was not to waste your time, I’m getting to that. There was a game that came just before this one, the first of it’s kind, the actual patient zero. That game, is The Visitor.

Many of you may not remember this game, but The Visitor (and The Visitor Returns) was a little flash game that was posted way back on March 1st, 2015, and you played as an alien creature that came to Earth on a meteorite who’s only objective was to kill any creature it came into contact with to gain it’s powers. It was a video that kind of took the channel by storm, landing it’s place as the fifth most watched video on Jack’s channel even though nobody really knew how. This was patient zero. 

As for the checklist? It was posted March 1st, 2015, a full year and seven months before Sister Location. Jack is certainly immersed in the gameplay, so much so he forgets about the menu screen and accidentally restarts the game in an attempt to do more stuff. Does it show a similarity to what we already see in Anti? More than you’d see at first glance. Yes, his mouse is kind of glitching through the entire video. Yes, his webcam goes dark for a single frame towards the five minute mark. Yes, there’s multiple severe neck wounds throughout the game. But that’s not what sold me on this. It’s the premise of the game itself. 

I was struggling for months trying to figure out which game was patient zero. I jumped between Undertale, Fran Bow, Vee is Calling, and even the other Five Nights At Freddy’s videos more times than I could count, because all of them seemed like plausible answers. Fran Bow was the first series ever to adopt Anti’s traditional thumbnails, with lens flares and glowing eyes and blood everywhere(seriously, I took a good ten minutes and scrolled through every single video on his channel and Fran Bow was where it all started), not to mention a dark shadow creature who feeds on suffering being the main antagonist. Vee is Calling had an actual virus as a main character who actually glitches out and actually takes control of the main character’s in game computer. One of the glitches in SIster Location #1 showed a frame from the first ever FNAF game, and many of the sounds were pulled from the series at different points. I’ve already written paragraphs about Undertale. All of these things show a direct tie to Anti. 

Then remember what The Visitor is all about. It’s an alien who kills things around him to gain it’s powers. It takes aspects from each creature it comes into contact with and uses them for his own personal gain. That seems to be exactly what Anti has done ever since we’ve known him as a physical entity on the channel rather than an idea with a name. 

I mean, look back at May 2k18. Every single skit, either ego themed or not, was pulled directly from whatever the game he played was about. Hell, just look at the egos! I’ve talked about this before, but in every single ego video, there is always a theme of character decay, where the person they were at the start of the video erodes away leaving nothing but a shell of who they were by the end, and this is especially apparent in their debut. JBM, the courageous hero giving into cowardice. Marvin the Magician, throwing away his career. Henrik the wise doctor, killing his patients and forgetting a comedic amount about human nature. Chase the bubbly dad, pulling a gun on himself. JJ the mute actor, cutting his finger and immediately getting possessed. I’d tied them back to Anti before, but I never really knew why. In hindsight, this was clearly Anti’s attempt at stealing their strengths. Each and every one of them had some advantage that Anti wanted, and their slow decay was evidence of Anti trying to take control so he could have it. That’s why each new video showed him getting stronger, going from making them kind of afraid to full on suicide and possession. He was stronger because he’d taken more attributes and was able to use them more effectively with each passing video. For each game that Sean got immersed in that fit his agenda, Anti adopted different aspects for himself. There is no one video where Anti came from because he came from every video.

Okay. Alien biomechanical virus. How do we treat it? Well, that is heavily reliant on it’s sources. Anti adopted both some benefits and some defects from every game he pulled from. He gained both strengths and weaknesses, so if you want to “beat” him, the answer would lie in those games. The Visitor had no happy ending. Fran Bow won by giving up on reality and living with tree people, a demon, and an oversized axolotl. Undertale got a good ending by befriending everyone including the bad guys and hopefully not dying too much in the process. FNAF was finished by getting fired or burning everything to the ground and praying you’re not sent to purgatory. Vee is Calling was saved by focusing on your love life more than your computer files. Maybe it’s one of those answers. Maybe it’s all of them. Maybe it’s none of them. It seems not even Sean knows the answer to that question, but now we have a great place to start looking.

I wasn’t able to attend PAX, which means I didn’t know about the Anti “hint” until just now. When I heard it I wanted to scream, I think I actually might have, because I’ve been sitting on this work for literal months and just not gotten around to posting it. “We still haven’t figured out what Anti is yet.”

So, @therealjacksepticeye, are my answers to your satisfaction? 

[quinnorsmth]

i’m... i’m gonna post my discord rant here. don’t mind me, i’m just a boy from a crumbling home. never mind the random trigger mentions too, that’s for the spoilers that didn’t copy over from discord, heh.

self harm

the fun part about relapsing is that it doesn't seem to happen intermittently, it's kinda all at once. i'm steady enough that i won't do anything tonight but there's still this kinda chant in the back of my head y'know. just this cut cut cut cut from an overload of stress

and part of me - and i won't, i'm fine - part of me wants to just do it to shut the urge up, but i know that'll just keep the waves coming. i shouldn't've let myself slip in the first place, is the issue. it just... hit. things have been bad at home, i'm not functioning at school, i'm emotionally volatile and everything is just... messy.

i wanna bleed it out. i won't, i won't, but the tide's still high.

suicide

and like... i didn't mean to live this long anyway. senior year of high school, i always thought i'd've thrown myself off a roof or overdosed when i got to college, y'know? no more supervision, no one knew me yet, it'd've been perfect.

problem was with the height, y'know. buildings around here are too short. overdoses are more likely to fail than not. cutting to kill is too much effort.

ironically, the same anxiety and depression that make me wanna die have kept me from doing anything too risky. fear of failure, chronic fatigue.

as above

i even meant to just... throw all've that in a melting pot the start of this semester. week before class, i made that decision. end of august, i'd overdose, bleed out as much as i could, find the tallest parking deck around town and jump, angle myself to break my head open or something.

didn't manage it, though. DID has its perks, if you'd consider having someone in your own head sabotage your suicide attempt.

and now we're both kinda regretting it. we have vague plans for something abroad if everything goes to shit.

as above

and i guess i regret having even come here - not because of anyone on the server, but i regret making connections. regret having a reason to stick around, more people to talk me outta it. it was more feasible when i was isolating, when the only consistent connection i had was  emotionally toxic. we'd even been in counseling because we were going so far downhill, and part of it was her fault.

i wish she pushed me further, wish i was better at debates. could've talked system member into letting me give this a shot, maybe i would've won.

i dunno. suicide's been my endgame for a long time. i've been losing this game for too long, though.

...wonder how long it'd take for anyone to write home and tell them i was found dead somewhere. i'll be abroad in Denmark while most of the rest of my studio will be in Rome. hell, they may not even hear about it, might just get back to my parents. they might all come back for one last year of school and wonder where i went.

i dunno.

i appreciate when people reach out, y'know. i like knowing that i'm cared about, but it also feels like someone smashing a baseball bat over my head.

i'm losing - hell, i'm not even making progress. i'm not doing any better. i've just been skating and i'm sick of it.

i wanna win. i want out.

~

been at this for almost... what, 7 years? give or take.

self harm, suicide

been self-harming for longer than that. i just - i remember starting a log of days i felt like i wanted to die back in late 2012. that was the first time i thought maybe this isn't normal

y'know. after i got used to shallow cuts with safety pins and broken scissors. only after that did i decide something was off.

so it's almost the anniversary of... of that. christmas eve.

i always feel a little fuzzy on christmas eve.

as above, alcohol

sometimes i'm tempted to plan for an out then, it'd be conclusive, poetic, maybe. i don't have the heart to give my sis and my dad something to cry about on christmas though.

don't care if mom'd cry though. she's the reason we fell this hard. i'm not one to blame people for my own mind, honest, but honestly, if she'd reached out instead of drowning herself in alcohol, i feel like i'd be better.

as above

she'd get loud. she doesn't have much of an indoor voice anyway, whatever, whatever. it gets worse when she's too shit-faced to hear herself. lil 14 year old Nate didn't take kindly to that, y'know, always had some noise sensitivity, it got worse when she got worse. got worse when loud started meaning mom isn't lucid anymore.

as above, emotional abuse

it's hit a point where she's kinda... i hesitate to use the term emotionally abusive, but system member and sis both say otherwise. she asks you a question and nitpicks your answer until you tell her what she wants to hear. what do you want for dinner isn't caring anymore, it's a fucking nightmare. everything's a game of guess and check with her.

she gaslights too, god, it's awful, and we already have problems with reality and doubting ourselves. she'll just make shit up, try and turn us against each other. she screams at my sis for not starting dinner when sis was working all day, then goes to dad and tells him sis was in the wrong. we all know she's full of shit by now but it's exhausting.

above, eating disorder

she doesn't use her fucking words anymore, y'know? she'll say can someone help me with this when she means to say can dad come over here with a toolbox to fix the sink or whatever, but she doesn't just... say that. doesn't ask, likes playing these shitty mind games with us. i come over not knowing what she wants and she blames me for not being dad and not having the toolbox.

eating around her is even hell. we order chinese food, i have dumplings. i eat five, she says i'm not eating enough. eat six, i've had too many, why didn't you share with me, no no, i don't want any, i had a quarter of a sandwich at 11am so i'm stuffed.

she pulls this shit on her daughter with an eating disorder and her son who hardly feeds himself as it is. pulls this shit around her husband who's trying to keep his weight in check. it's probably 'cause she's overweight and unwilling to do anything about it. there's nothing wrong with being heavier, but i think she hates that she is overweight, and she wants to drag us down with her.

mentioned death

and... yeah, yeah. she just drags us down with her no matter what we do or what we say. talks about dead relatives, pets, rants about her old workplace she hasn't worked at in over 2 years, turns every good memory toward something sour, oh i miss our old dog, your grandpa was such a nice man, anything she can to try and make us miserable too.

i wonder if that's a bit of why i'm fucking depressed. so used to being around someone who seems to thrive off misery.(edited)

alcohol

just - i feel nauseous any time she's in the room. anything is a reason to fight, reason to be angry, miserable, reason to drink.

and hell, if she has the best day of her life, she still drinks. time to celebrate, eh? no moderation for an addict, i suppose.

alcohol

i've never been one for physical contact without consent, but it's worse with her. sometimes she gets too giddy when she drinks, squeals like a high school girl, clambers all over people like a lap dog. she grabs me by the shoulders and i panic because i don't want her touching me. it's not even mom when she's that wasted, it's some drunk fuck in my house pretending she loves me.

she doesn't. mom, maybe, but even sober mom is a shot in the dark. sometimes she's just fucking mean. talks about shit to make people uncomfortable, critiques us without ever looking at herself. drunk mom's worse.

it's... insufferable. and it's why we have DID to begin with. i can't cope with her. system members can. one of us has had to shove her off before. she went and cried about it to dad, i had to tell him she was actually hurting us - and not intentionally, i get that, but she's over twice my weight and i'm kinda frail, honestly.

i can't go downstairs after like, 6pm anymore. it's always a system member, or one of them is active with me and talking when she's around because i can't do it.

not even safe in my own fucking house. i have to wait for her to go upstairs before i can get water from the fridge. it doesn't feel safe.

emotional abuse, alcohol, suicide

and like - look, she'd never physically hurt us, never intentionally, but emotionally? she's fucking mean. she wants us to be just as miserable, she wants to pick fights, she wants to pretend she's the victim when she's screaming at sis and shoving dad around in a drunken haze. it's not safe being around her because she'll fight.

we have no other choice but to avoid her. she's a walking landmine.

y'know what stings worst about this? i remember a time when she was a wonderful woman. she was great. she was great.

that mom's gone though. 12 years of alcoholism have killed her. even when she's sober she isn't the woman who raised me. hell, she's been gone since i was 15, probably. i wonder if some part of me made that connection, if that's why 2012 was the first time i ever recorded suicidal urges.

i miss her, y'know. 10 year old Nate's mom.

death, suicide

come to think of it, grandpa died a month after christmas. my urges started around that anniversary. funny how shit works like that, huh.(edited)

wonder if it's because she got shitfaced that night. kinda a shame teen Nate didn't give much of a reason for wanting to die beyond feeling some general stress and unease.

...there's no solution here, either. her brain's too far gone.

i wanna feel safe in my own family. i've had to retreat into my own head to find any solace.

...sorry. i'm bitter.

i oughta delete this in the morning.