#tw: psychosis

[chaotic-orphan]

Delirious Villain x Hero Caretaker (5)

Read part one here // Continued from here

Heed the TW (and mind yourselves please <3):

TW: emotional abuse, physical abuse, mental abuse, vomiting, forced vomiting, violence, elements of psychosis, psychosis episode-like symptoms, vulnerable whumpee, intimate whumper, older brother whumper, young sibling whumpee, gaslighting, manipulation, sick whump, sickness whump, illness whump, reuniting with whumper, PTSD, facing whumper who gave PTSD, bad family relationships,

~*~*~*~*~*~

Villain eyed Superhero wearily. Despite all their training, all their progress, Superhero had a height and weight advantage over Villain. His broad shoulders stood proud, supporting his stupid head, with his smirk that made Villain’s stomach crawl. They needed to get out of here, to get help.

They wouldn’t make it to the door in the condition they were in, so that was out of the question. His eyes flicked to the couch where he was asleep not a few minutes ago, which felt like a lifetime now. He couldn’t see his phone. He needed to call Hero, but maybe it was tangled in the blankets?

“I can see the cogs turning, Vil,” Superhero said with a happy sigh. “If you’re hoping that your precious Hero comes to save you in time, don’t. They’re too busy saving someone worth saving.”

“Shut up!” Villain growled, pushing at Superhero’s chest with their free hand. “Get off of me!”

Superhero chuckled, tsking and shaking his head at Villain’s outburst. Villain’s heart didn’t forget to beat after that, the guilt at his Brother’s disappointment didn’t still affect him. It didn’t.

“Where are your manners, Vil? Jeez, does Hero just let you run wild? That must be so annoying for them.”

“Hero loves me.”

Superhero leaned in, dark eyes glittering with malice. “Oh yeah? Then why aren’t they here looking after you?”

Villain’s face scrunched up. “Because you sent them away!”

“Or are they just so tired with you that they had to get out of the house for a while. It seems like the latter to me. God, I remember how annoying you were. Nobody, not even Hero has enough patience to handle you.”

“Hero loves me,” Villain said again, this time a little quieter.

“No. They don’t. They probably just feel sorry for you and how pathetic you are. Like a wounded baby bird whose wings are too weak to make it fly.”

“My life doesn’t concern you anymore! You don’t have to interact with me on a daily basis! Please let me go. Please, Brother, please.”

Superhero pressed a finger to his lips. “Shush. No begging yet, Vil. It’s unbecoming.”

Without warning, Superhero yanked Villain off the wall and was about to throw him to the floor when the pair froze. Villain’s ringtone played mutely from the bedroom. Villain’s eyes widened.

Hero.

Superhero recovered quicker than Villain, a cruel grin on his face as he started dragging Villain towards the bedroom. He got a hand on the back of Villain’s neck and shoved him down so Villain had to walk awkwardly bent over. Superhero opened the door to the bedroom and saw the phone lighting up on the bed.

He threw Villain to the ground beside the bed, laughing as Villain stumbled before he hit the floor with a groan, grabbing Villain’s phone off the bed.

“Aww, Vil. It’s Hero. Probably calling you to tell you that they’re leaving you.”

“Shut up,” Villain hissed, rubbing their hip that took the brunt of the impact.

Superhero turned Villain’s phone to Villain so they could see the picture of Hero laughing, ice-cream in hand, a dollop of mint chocolate chip on the tip of their nose.

“Cute,” Superhero said with a scoff, then put his finger in his mouth and mimed vomiting. Superhero waited for Hero to hang up before scrolling through Villain’s phone. Superhero raised their brows, glancing at Villain over the phone. “You seriously don’t have a passcode or something?”

“Don’t need it.”

Superhero scoffed, turning his attention back to the phone. Villain moved to get to their feet when Superhero’s stare snapped to them. “Don’t move or I’ll kill Hero.”

That froze Villain in their movements, their heart hitching at Superhero’s easy threat. Superhero didn’t seem too bothered by it and soon his face split into a wide smile.

“Aww, look Vil. Hero text: Superhero,” Superhero paused, grinning down at Villain pointing to himself. “That’s me.” Then went back to reading. “Superhero said that he was short staffed, and sent me to West-point so I will be home later than usual. Sorry for leaving you again, there’s soup in the freezer if you feel up to it. I love you. xx.”

Villain tightened their hands into fists by their sides, clenching their jaw against every word that Superhero read. Hero was going to be home later than normal? West-point, that was at least an hour by metro from here and who knows when they’d get home… especially because—

Villain raised their gaze to Superhero who was grinning above them. “You weren’t short-staffed, were you?”

“Of course not,” Superhero said with a smirk. “I just had to get Hero away from you for a while. Hell, even Other Hero and Sidekick should’ve gone to central hospital but I asked for them to be transferred to West-point so we could have some long overdue family time.”

Superhero tapped on Villain’s phone a little longer and grinned after locking the screen, pocketing the phone in his back-pocket. “Just in case you get any ideas.”

Villain glared at him from the ground, a sudden overwhelming helplessness returning to him that he hadn’t felt since he was a kid. Since he moved out of his family home. Now it came back with a viciousness that threatened to drown him and left him clawing against it just to keep his head above the water and his breathing even.

“Now,” Superhero said, inspecting Villain with his piercing gaze. “What to do with you.”

“Just leave,” Villain tried. “Please. I don’t— I’m not apart of your life anymore. You don’t— you don’t have to do this.”

“Vil, Vil, Vil,” Superhero sighed walking towards Villain. “Family doesn’t quit on each other. They never give up on you. I know I don’t have to try and fix you, the truth is I never did. I just wanted what was best for you.”

“Yeah right! You just wanted what was best for you! Can’t have your little brother embarrass you in public!”

Superhero, to Villain’s surprise, softened at that. Villain didn’t trust it for a second.

“You’re right,” Superhero said with a breath. “I was so worried about what kind of shame or embarrassment you would bring on me. I didn’t want people associating failure with us.”

Superhero crouched in front of Villain, tilting his head to the side. A strange smile on his lips, that Villain couldn’t quite discern. It looked whimsical and yet sad, wait— was that a genuine smile? No. It couldn’t be.

“It’s because I saw our potential, Villain,” Superhero said with a scoff. “Y’know, it’s stupid, but when I worked so hard to be Superhero, to become the best and bring prestige to our family name… well, I pushed you hard too because I always imagined that it would be something that we’d do together. Something we’d achieve together. The best brother Superhero duo in history.”

Villain’s heart cracked a little, a swarm of guilt spilling out like a leak in a dam, constricting his chest. Villain longed to reach out, to close the distance between them to apologise for not being able to live up to Superhero’s expectations.

To tell him that Villain tried. He really fucking tried, but Superhero was always stronger, faster, better than he was and he couldn’t be the same.

He didn’t though. He tightened his hands into fists and stared at Superhero who looked six feet deep in fond memories and regrets.

“I’m sorry, Vil.”

It felt as if time stopped. As if the Earth stopped turning, and the world stood frozen. The moment right before a car crash, or something inevitable happening; the cusp that hides between moments like a trapdoor spider, waiting until you lowered your guard before attacking and killing you.

Villain’s voice was a whisper: “what?”

Superhero swallowed, forcing himself to meet Villain’s gaze. “I’m sorry, Villain.”

There was no joke or humour in Superhero’s face as he said that, again. Apologised? Again! But— but— Villain’s brain was fried from their flu because this must be another trick? Another hallucination. Superhero being sorry for something? Feeling remorse?

“I’m sorry about what happened on the outside, how people perceived us, what you said and did outside the house that I didn’t even think about how it all must’ve effected you. I’m sorry that I wasted all that time trying to correct your behaviour outside the house when really,” Superhero’s hand shot out like a viper to grab Villain by the throat, slamming him back against the wall. “Really I should’ve focused more on your manners and knowing your fucking place.”

Superhero stood, bringing Villain with him and threw him across the room. Villain tried to catch themselves before their face hit the wall by throwing their hands out, but they landed awkwardly on their wrist and the pain ricocheted down their arm. Villain hissed, retracting their arm but they didn’t have time to react before a hand was in their hair and bashing their skull against the wall.

Once. Twice. Three times.

Villain went dumb from the impact, their brain struggling to comprehend what was happening, but the pain. They felt the pain spread like wildfire through their skull.

The hand in their hair tightened and Villain cried out as they were dragged across the bedroom, back towards the kitchen. They tried to gain purchase on the ground with their knees, but Superhero was moving too fast for them to keep up.

Superhero paused two feet from the doorway. Villain didn’t know why, they just slumped to the ground like a dog in shade during a heatwave. They just needed to catch their breath. Or pass out. Either was a good option.

Superhero didn’t seem to think so. He lifted his hand suddenly, dragging Villain’s head up to look Villain in the eye. Villain hissed, hands clawing at the strong grip on his hair. Superhero grabbed Villain by the throat, slamming his head back into the wall.

Villain groaned at the impact, moving his hands to try and dislodge Superhero’s hand from his throat. “God. You really are pathetic, aren’t you? Did I not teach you anything?”

Superhero stepped back, dropping all contact from Villain who struggled not to slump down the wall to the floor.

Superhero took two steps back, running a hand down his face, pinning Villain to the wall with a harsh glare. Villain’s entire body was trembling at them, struggling to keep themselves up in case they needed to bolt. But Superhero’s eyes caught every tremor, every flinch or wince.

“You’re still fucking ruining everything. It’s all you ever do, isn’t it?”

“Fuck off.”

“You really don’t know, do you? You make people weak, Villain.” Villain froze at the emotion colouring Superhero’s voice. “You make people weak, because they feel like they need to look after you, or take care of you. For fuck’s sake, you can barely stand by your-fucking-self! You needed Hero to take days off of work to mind you while you were sick, like some fucking child! Do you know how embarrassing that is!”

“My life doesn’t concern you anymore,” Villain spat, tears pinpricking their eyes.

Superhero scoffed. “Doesn’t concern me?”

Superhero studied Villain’s face, the wince after Superhero spoke. Then recognition flashed on his face, putting two and two together.

“You didn’t tell Hero that we’re related,” Superhero said, tilting his head to the side, a smile gracing his lips at Villain’s silence. “Oh that is… that is hilarious. The person you love the most? You’re keeping secrets from them?”

“We are not related,” Villain said, their voice coming out stronger than they felt in that moment. “You are nothing to me. I left you and Mom, and Dad. I left. I made a life for myself, a life where I’m loved by somebody. Why can’t you be happy for me?”

“What, you think Hero actually loves you?”

Villain flinched at the words. “Oh you do, don’t you?” Superhero cooed, walking towards Villain again and grabbing their face in his hands. “Oh. You poor fucking idiot. You have no idea how much Hero hates you, do you?”

Villain’s eyes glistened with tears. Superhero slammed Villain’s head back into the wall.

“Do you?”

“Just leave… leave me alone,” Villain begged, tears finally spilling over his eyes. “Please.”

Villain’s hand reached up and curled his fingers around Superhero’s wrist, weakly tugging at it.

“I can make them love you again,” Superhero whispered. “I know how. I can make you worth something in their eyes, isn’t that what you want?”

Villain sniffled, nodding. Superhero cooed, brushing the sweaty hair back from Villain’s face. “I know. I know you’re scared, but big bro’s here now, hmmm? Come on.”

Superhero pulled Villain away from the wall gently, taking Villain’s wrist in his hand. “Come on.”

“Where are we—” Villain asked, their voice hitching, wiping away their tears with the sleeve of their shirt. “Where’re we going?”

Villain’s mind only registered they were walking towards the bathroom when Superhero opened the door. Then they started pulling against Superhero’s hold.

“No! No, no, no, no, no!” Villain cried, going limp and yanking backwards. Superhero dropped Villain, cursing at them for the sudden weight. Villain took the opportunity to roll onto their stomach, pushing themselves to their hands and knees and rushing forwards. They threw themselves to their feet, stumbling slightly, almost rolling on their ankles but they were standing. They bolted for the door to the bedroom, slamming their shoulder into the doorframe as they propelled themselves out and towards the front door.

A hand caught the back of their shirt and Villain cried out. They were yanked backwards, their head slamming off the doorframe to the bedroom. Villain fell like a sack of bricks and Superhero let them.

Villain blinked up bleary-eyed at the ceiling, the world swimming in a whirlwind of colour. Two Superhero’s appeared above Villain, shaking their heads, as if they were disappointed parents looking down on an unruly child.

“Look at what you did,” Superhero said, the words coming in and out of focus like pulses. He leaned down, crouched above Villain. Then a hand passed over his face and Villain’s head whipped to the side. They whimpered. “Ah. There you are,” Superhero said, only one of him now. “Still with me, Vil.”

Another slap and Villain whimpered, weakly pushing their hand against Superhero’s. Superhero easily batted it away, opting to instead pinch Villain’s cheeks between their thumb and forefinger and dig their fingers in until Villain’s mouth formed an O and they cried out.

“Listen runt, I didn’t want to hurt you! Don’t you see? I’m trying to help you. You’ve clearly let yourself go since the last time I saw you, and nobody, not even Saint Hero will love you if you’re fat and disgusting. You want to be worth Hero’s love, don’t you?”

Tears welled behind Villain’s eyes and they tried to turn their head away, not wanting to face Superhero and the truth in his words. Superhero didn’t even let Villain flinch in any direction before his grip tightened.

“Don’t you want to be someone worthy of love?” Superhero asked, his voice imperceptibly soft. Villain let out a pathetic yes, their voice muffled by Superhero’s hold on their face. Superhero’s features smoothed out and he nodded sympathetically. “I know. Come on, let’s get you up. I’m just trying to help you be worthy of Hero.”

Superhero helped Villain to sit up, openly crying now. Superhero nodded his head compassionately. “I know. I know. Shh. It’s okay. Big bro’s here now. He’s going to make everything better. Ssh. Don’t worry. Come on, runt.”

Superhero helped the wailing Villain to their feet, guiding them towards the bathroom again. Villain, resigned, followed along because they didn’t want to get hit again. They didn’t want to try and fight back and get beaten again. They didn’t want to be ugly for Hero, they wanted to be worthy of them. Hero was brilliant, perfect, why would they settle for anything less than that? God, Superhero was right.

Superhero gently pushes Villain to their knees, and tells them to: “open up.”

Villain felt the familiar fear creep back up their spine, making their hair stand on end. They shook their head, making to stand up but Superhero kept a hand on Villain’s shoulder, keeping them in place.

“Come on. You said you wanted to be worthy of Hero, right?”

Villain deflated. A part of them wanted to be perfect, to listen to Superhero and just give in, save themselves the pain. The other part was screaming at them, telling them they were worth more than this. That they hated this, and that Hero loved them no matter what. Strangely the voice telling them to fight sounded an awful lot like Hero’s.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to do anything. I’ll do it all, remember?” Superhero coaxed, his fingers tracing Villain’s jaw and resting at their bottom lip. “Come on, Villain.”

Villain didn’t protest, but they didn’t fight Superhero either, so when his fingers pushed past Villain’s lips, Villain didn’t move. Only when they went far, hitting Villain’s gag reflex did Villain start fighting him.

They shot up from their knees on instinct, but Superhero’s hold kept them down, his other hand going to the back or Villain’s hair and pulling it, yanking their head back so he could shove his fingers down further.

Villain whined, shaking their head. They didn’t want this, they didn’t want this! Villain felt bile climbing his throat and he jerked forward, but Superhero didn’t move his fingers and they hit the back of Villain’s tongue. Villain felt the warmth climbing his throat, gripping the toilet seat and ready to vomit.

Superhero pulled his fingers out at the last second, and Villain heaved. It was only bile that came out, green-hued see through slime, because Villain hadn’t eaten in days.

Superhero clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Hmm. That won’t do. We’ll go again.”

Before Villain could protest, Superhero’s fingers were in his mouth again, unmerciful as they shot to the back of Villain’s throat. Villain grabbed Superhero’s wrist, pulling his fingers out. “Don’t fight me, Vil. We agreed.”

Superhero’s fingers hit Villain’s throat again, and they felt the muscles in their neck contracting as another wave of nausea hit them. Panicking and wanting Superhero to just let them go, Villain clamped their jaw around Superhero’s hand.

Superhero yelped, then roared and yanked their hand out of Villain’s jaw. “I’m—” Villain gasped, but Superhero cut them off with a punch to the face. Villain’s head veered down, hitting off the edge of the ceramic toilet bowl with a dull thump.

A hand in their hair and their head was wrenched back. Superhero’s fist flashed in the corner of their eye, and struck the same place in their jaw, keeping them straight.

“I thought we agreed that I—” punch. “Know” punch. “Better.” A sharp slap deafened Villain as Superhero released them again, their head snapping to the side. “I don’t want to hurt you, but you force me to, Vil. I hate to see you like this, but as your older brother I’ll do what I have to do, to make you a better person.”

A sharp kick to the stomach, once, twice, three times and Villain lurched forward, crying out and swallowing hard to keep the rush of liquid crawling like a tidal wave up their throat. Superhero grabbed Villain by the throat. Leaning his face in closer to them.

“Come on, Vil,” Superhero said sweetly. “You want to look your best for Hero, don't you? You want to deserve them, right?”

“Pl—please,” Villain stammered, choking on Superhero’s tight grip. “Just lemme— go.”

“Stop fighting me, runt, I'm just trying to look out for you.”

Superhero pinched Villain’s jaw between his thumb and index finger, his nails digging into their cheeks, drawing blood, and forcing their mouth open. His fingers found the back of Villain’s throat, pressing down on Villain’s gag reflex.

Villain felt the muscles in his throat tighten, the bile burning acidic up their throat and they lunged forward, Superhero withdrew his hand from Villain’s mouth, but kept pinching their cheeks so Villain couldn’t swallow. Only when he was satisfied that Villain was about to hurl did he let go, grinning down as Villain spewed into the toilet.

A lot more than last time, their stomach ached as they vomited. A momentary pause and then another bout reared its head and tears streamed down their face, sobbing as they let the feeling run its course out of them.

Superhero patted Villain’s hair like a dog. “Good, see. You did so good.”

“What are you doing?”

Villain froze at the voice. Superhero’s hand stopped rubbing Villain’s hair, but he didn’t remove it from Villain’s head. Hero rushed in, going to Villain’s side and get grabbing their face in their hands, thumbing away the tears.

“Villain, shhh. Shhh, it’s okay.” Hero cooed. Villain sobbed against Hero’s hands, the gentle touches. They weren’t worthy of this kindness. They didn’t deserve Hero’s caring love. This was pity. They pitied Villain, that’s why they looked so caring in that moment. Not out of love. Why was Villain so weak to melt at the kindness, they should be worthy of them! Hero shouldn’t have to see Villain like this. “I’m here now. It’s okay.”

Hero glanced back at Superhero, eyes narrowed into a glare. “What are you doing here?!”

“I knew you would be away for a while today, Hero. And I knew you would be worried sick about your ill partner so I thought I would come and look after them for you.”

Hero’s eyes found Villain’s, searching, scanning for any sign that Superhero was lying. Villain was skittish and heaving, not meeting Hero’s eyes. There was something wrong, was it just vomiting? Being sick? No, this was different. Villain was incoherent and violent last time, now they were just… subdued and lifeless and terrified.

“You stepped over the line, Superhero,” Hero said firmly, eyes burning down at their lover. “Please wait in the living room while I help them to bed.”

Superhero’s eyes met Villain’s over Hero’s shoulder, a sadistic smile on his lips. He brought a finger to his lips and pointed down at Hero. Then drew a line across his throat and mimicked Hero being killed.

“Of course, Hero,” Superhero said easily, while Villain’s trembles intensified. Hero waited until Superhero had walked out the door before looking back at Villain.

“Vil, oh my god, I’m so sorry. Are you okay? I’m so sorry, I should have never left you.”

They’re just saying that because you’re weak, Villain thought.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t ask Superhero to come. I didn’t know they would do something as crazy as this!”

They’re tired of you. They don’t love you, if they did they would have never left. You’re exhausting, you wear people out.

“Come on, Vil. Talk to me.” Hero said, leaning forward and pressing their forehead against Villain’s. Villain could feel Hero’s warm breath fanning against their face. They weren’t even worthy of this. “Shhh. Vil, it’s okay. I’m here now and I’m not leaving.”

When Hero wrapped their arms around Villain, Villain couldn’t hold it together anymore and they broke down into sobs that wracked their entire body. Their fingers turned to claws in Hero’s shirt, bunching it and holding on and not wanting to let go.

They were weak, they were so weak that they made the people they loved weak for them. It bled through from Villain into them, and now they were breaking Hero’s heart. They didn’t deserve Hero’s heart. They didn’t deserve any of this comfort and warmth and love.

Hero held them tightly and kissed their hair and cheek and anything their lips could reach, whispering reassurances and telling them that they loved them.

When Villain’s sobs had calmed down to mere whimpers and sniffles, Hero moved them, putting one hand under their legs and the other under their shoulders and lifted them like they were a baby. Villain curled into Hero’s embrace, a deep red blush filling their face with warmth.

Hero shouldn’t have to do this, to be the strong one. Villain was the strong one! God what happened to them?! Why couldn’t they just be perfect for Hero?

Hero put them into bed, lying beside them under the covers. They tilted Villain’s head down to lie on top of Hero’s chest, hearing their heartbeat. They were a tangle of limbs.

“What about,” Villain sniffed, “Superhero?”

Hero’s eyes darkened. “Let him wait. You’re my priority, Villain. You always will be. Never forget that.”

Villain sniffed, fresh tears streaming down their cheeks. “I love you Hero.” They said even though it broke their heart to say that. Weak! So weak!

“I love you more than you’ll ever know,” Hero whispered into Villain’s hair, kissing the top of their head.

*~*~*~*~*

[necromantictales]

I drew a new page!

Would anyone be interested on some nerd facts on very early onset schizophrenia/ schizophrenia in general? Bc in that case I might type up some info on it with sources and everything.

however what is important to mention for me: schizophrenia is a very debilitating disorder but it is often framed as overly violent and sinister by popular media without any regard for people affected for it. Even though we have a wrong diagnosis in this comic, I would like to point out that people affected by schizophrenia are not dangerous and scary but rather perceive their environment as dangerous and scary during psychotic episodes. To a point where some think they have to defend themselves and might react aggressively. People affected by schizophrenia are however more likely to be the victims of violence then enacting violence themselves and actively psychotic symptoms are not what happens all the time. And after these episodes, most of them are shocked, ashamed and deeply saddened by close relatives having been scared of them.

Schizophrenia is mostly treated with different types of medication that sadly have strong side effects (e.g. psychomotor symptoms like tremor or difficulty walking, dizziness, sleepiness etc). Life with schizophrenia is difficult but 1/3 of those diagnosed with it can live a relatively symptom free life while for the next third, multiple psychotic episodes are the case and for the last third it’s chronical. Early onset and very early onset cases are rare and have a worse prognosis than late onset. If you meet a person with schizophrenia that is taking their medication regularly, you might not even notice they experience schizophrenia.

Please treat everyone with kindness, especially people who perceive their world as scary and full of terrors sometimes - that is all I want to say for now.🙏❤️

[vincess-princess]

we, the psychos

ch. 11

Word count: 1957 Warnings: description of a psychotic episode A/N: i personally have never had a psychotic episode so this is me going off my imagination and what i've seen and read about them. hopefully it's close to reality!

“I’m very disappointed in you both,” said Dr. Duren with well-measured disapproval in his voice. Anything he ever said was always just the right amount of emotion. Nikki never saw him fly off the hook or lose control. It was almost uncanny – but very useful in constant contact with emotion-ruled psychos. “Very disappointed.”

Nikki glanced at Vince. He was leaning back onto the chair relaxedly, legs spread wide, expression mildly amused. If Nikki knew Vince a little bit less he would think he didn’t care what was going to happen to him. But Nikki knew Vince well enough to see the slightest tremble in him - he did care, didn’t want to be punished again. Yet he still assaulted Nikki in the canteen, knowing full well the consequences would be rather unpleasant. What did Hudson do to him that pissed him off so much?

“Who started it?” asked Dr. Duren. He addressed mainly Stradlin behind Vince’s back, but Vince replied instead of him.

“I did.”

“And why would you do that?”

“He looked at me the wrong way,” Vince said and smiled a crooked, bitter smile.

“Really?” Dr. Duren raised his eyebrows. He didn’t seem to believe Vince. “You have never had anything against Frank, but now one wrong look – and you pour soup on him?”

“You know me,” Vince replied, doing very good job of sounding nonchalant. “I’m a chaotic individual.”

“Did something occur between you two when you were on canteen duty?” Dr. Duren continued, now looking at Nikki. Damn it. Unlike Vince, Nikki was never good at lying, so he just shook his head.

“Nothing for Frank. And you, Vincent? Any complaints?”

“He was too slow at everything. I had to do most of the job myself.” Vince sent Nikki an overly grim look.

“Oh, so here it is.” Dr. Duren seemed satisfied. “Vincent, but you do see Frank’s hand is injured. Working one-handed is hard.”

“So what? I’m also injured, and I ain’t working at a speed of a turtle,” Vince complained a little too eagerly for Nikki to believe him. But Dr. Duren fell for it.

“Patience, Vincent. Patience. That’s what you lack. We’ll have to work on that.”

“Well, I’m sitting here listening to you, so clearly I’m patient enough.”

Dr. Duren gave him such a heavy look even Vince seemed to be slightly humbled by it. Only slightly, but still an achievement.

“You know I do not tolerate violence in my asylum, Vincent. Yet you chose to enact it. Clearly you’re not yet ready to go back to society. A week of solitary confinement in your ward for you. One of the nurses…” his gaze ran over the three nurses in his office, “Bailey, yes. You’ll deliver food for Vincent starting today evening and ending next Thursday. And accompany him to the bathroom. No more than three visits a day. And, yes, cuffs at night.”

Dr. Duren looked at Vince, whose face went so pale it looked almost like a death mask, and smiled.

“That will teach you patience, Vincent. If you are on your best behavior during that time, you will be released with no further punishment. Take him away.” He waved to Stradlin and Bailey, who took Vince by the forearms and led to the door. Nikki didn’t dare look at him, but Vince’s heavy gaze burrowed a hole in his back until he disappeared behind the door.

“And you, Frank…” Dr. Duren rubbed his temples tiredly. “You could have called the nurses, could have tried to avoid the violence. Yet you indulged in it, by all accounts, with energy and glee. This is unacceptable.”

Nikki nodded solemnly. Dr. Duren didn’t seem convinced.

“Since Vincent is now out of commission for a while, you’ll be cleaning the canteen on your own for the rest of your punishment. Hopefully cleaning up that soup you spilled will teach you the value of labor of cooking and cleaning staff.”

Well, it could be worse, Nikki thought, nudged up by the nurse. At least it was not solitary confinement, which drove already crazy men absolutely nuts. One smashed his head on the wall on the fourth day of the punishment. The other strangled himself on the sheets, which was why patients in solitary slept on bare mattresses and had their blankets taken during the day.

Nikki feared to even imagine what Vince would look and act like after a week in solitary. He was already pretty antisocial, in a sense that he didn’t really fit in a society, even a society of psychos. Vince himself loved society. He loved the attention people could give him; he craved it, he wanted to constantly be in the middle of it. And now no human connection at all besides a couple words with Bailey, who wasn’t the talkative type either…

And it was Nikki’s fault. Well, not entirely - Vince started the fight, after all. But that was revenge. To Nikki’s revenge. So Vince basically punished himself, didn’t he? He knew there would be consequences. Of course he knew. Was the soup he poured over Nikki’s head and a black eye he gave Nikki really worth a week of solitary? Did he think it would be worth it before he got it? Did he regret?

Nikki hoped he did. Because Nikki sure regretted starting it now.

***

Tommy soon realised nobody would hear him here, in the farthest corner of the asylum. The only other door nearby probably led to another padded cell, and it must have been empty. Only Simmons knew Tommy was here. And he would hardly take mercy on him soon.

What did Tommy even do wrong to get thrown in the padded cell, supposedly only for violent patients? He only asked to see the doctor. Which was kind of his job, seeing his patients. Duff even said he would try to carve out some time for Tommy today, so this was a possibility all nurses knew about. Then why’d Simmons react so harshly? Was there something the doctor didn’t know, and Simmons feared Tommy would tell him that? Was the padded cell a punishment for anyone daring to speak up?

Or Simmons could just be an asshole who didn’t care about patients whatsoever and only worked here to exercise power over vulnerable people. That was also possible.

Anyway, whatever the truth was, Tommy was in a pickle.

He sat down, leaning on the padded door. Its soft covering was pleasant to lean on, but Tommy would prefer the hardest of chairs. It was dark and quiet in there, and he was never on good terms with darkness and silence. When there were no outside stimuli, his brain usually began to make up his own.

And sure enough, soon Tommy started hearing steps. He first thought they were coming from the hall, but no one came to him yelling, so he decided this was his brain playing jokes on him. But then steps neared, became heavier and angrier, like someone was pacing back and forth just outside of the door of the padded cell. And they resembled Simmons’s steps so much a shudder ran down Tommy’s spine.

This was not real. He knew this was not real. There was no one outside the cell. It was just his brain playing tricks on him, as it always did.

Still, he crawled to the farthest corner of the padded cell, pressed his back into the wall, hugged his knees and stared at the small barred window, the only source of light in the cell. And every second he expected the light to disappear, cut off by a large, wide body of… Simmons? No, probably not even him. Probably something worse.

The only other thing besides the steps that Tommy could hear now was his own breath, and at least it was definitely real. So Tommy focused on it hard. Breathe in. Breathe out. In. Out. Louder, louder. Calm down, his beating heart. In. Out. In. Out. In-

The steps disappeared. Oh god, they disappeared.

Tommy wiped his forehead he didn’t even notice get sweaty. It left, thank god. Whatever was there, it left. He sighed in relief and slid down the soft wall onto the floor. His chest heaved up and down. The psychotic episode was over.

And then he heard steps inside the cell.

They were quiet, much quieter than the previous ones. But they were closer. Tommy could almost feel the whiffs of air that legs moving produced touch him. He rubbed his skin there, to drown the feeling in something more intense. But the coolness of the air wasn’t overpowered even by intensive rubbing; it was there even in the hotness building up under the skin.

One whiff of air reached Tommy’s nose, and a trace of a scent tickled it. It smelled… like the asylum garden. Like rotting leaves, wet earth, upcoming winter chill. Tommy didn’t like that smell. He’d never felt close to nature and had no desire to get close to it now. The scent, at first faint, then quickly grew in strength, overpowering everything else, stuffing Tommy’s nostrils until he had to breathe through his mouth. But even his mouth could feel the taste of the earth, and it was exactly how Tommy imagined it to be, and he had to suppress retching, because it was disgusting.

His brain couldn’t create something so vivid and material. It was real. It was his punishment for not obeying the nurses, for refusing to do the work others did. He forgot who he was and where he was, and this was a reminder. You’re nothing but a speck of dust, and other people have total control over you, and you will have to spend the rest of your life here, and oh, does that make you feel bad? Well, tough luck. Get over it. The sooner you do it, the easier it will be.

The steps grew closer and closer. Tommy pressed his back into the wall even harder, afraid it would touch him. What scared him the most was that he could hear only one breath – his own. And it gave him away. It could hear his breath. It knew where he was. It was just playing with him.

And this went on and on and on. Steps. Tommy’s quiet breath. The smell. The taste. It was unyielding. It was merciless. It was all-consuming. It swallowed Tommy whole.

Until it didn’t.

“Tommy?” he heard as though from afar. “Hey! Wake up!”

Tommy opened his eyes and saw Duff’s face mere inches away from his. Incredibly detailed, with every pore visible, nostrils flaring, expression concerned.

“Do you hear me?” Duff said, and his voice drowned out the steps. Tommy could still hear them in the background, but they as though moved away and now were barely audible. He raised his hand and carefully touched Duff’s face.

There was warm skin under Tommy’s fingers, his fingertips could feel all the little skin defects. Duff was here. Oh thank god.

Tommy gripped Duff’s face with all his might.

“Did it go away?”

“Hey, don’t get too handsy here!” Duff slapped Tommy’s hands off. “Did what go away?”

Tommy thought it over for a bit. Really, what was that pacing in the cell?

“I don’t know. Something.”

“Very informative,” Duff said tiredly. He must have dealt with lots of such claims. “Anyway, Simmons told me you were here. I got you a spot in Dr. Duren’s schedule. I see now that you need it. Come on, he’s waiting for you.”

He helped Tommy up and led him to the door. While they were walking down the hall Tommy could still hear steps far behind them, just on the border of real and imaginary.

[idontknowreallywhy]

Resurface 25 - Regroup

Story so far (let’s be honest, all this resolution stuff will seem pretty random if you haven’t got the backstory but it does involve a puppy pile and who needs justification for that)

A bit more of the aftermath. It doesn’t go anywhere fast but as I keep telling myself These Things Take Time To Work Through.

I mean nobody actually expected any plot furtherance to have occurred in the past fortnight did they?! You should know me better than that by now 😏

(Side note - I am going to put it out there and say I think I’m going to have this wrapped up in 30 chapters, plus an epilogue that is already written… so the plane is on the approach, as it were ;) )

💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚

Scott woke in a nest.

He was fairly sure he hadn’t gone to sleep in one.

However, given he was not alone and that the sounds of slumber surrounding him were so familiar and beloved, he decided to go with it for now. There was time for for a subtle situation assessment at least.

It was warm and his situation was objectively comfy, despite being on the floor. A department store’s worth of pillows had been deployed around him at some stage, there were many blankets and numerous other, as yet unidentified, fluffy objects. The comfort-level was actually almost aggressively high.

Subjectively though… everything ached like it would with an intense bout of flu. All his bones felt wrong, as if his skeleton had been taken out, thrown down the stairs, and shoved back in at random. There was a constant background throb inside his skull. His throat, his eyes, his nostrils… all felt swollen like they’d been attacked by angry bees. Had he been sick? His heart dropped a little, if he was sick he shouldn’t be sharing his nest - he’d be infectious!

He thought about moving and sneaking away but every muscle point blank refused. His family were in the nest and he really needed them right now. He always did, but the need to be physically close felt suddenly emotionally overwhelming, like trapping a cold finger under something heavy or walking on a block of Lego… for a few seconds his brain couldn’t process any other information.

When the bunch of mush inside his head did reboot, it noted the soles of his feet were stinging sharply. That was both new and distinctly unusual for flu…

OH! The glass. Of course.

That.

All that. Oh.

Oh Virgil.

He tightened his arms around his biggest little brother who rumbled some sleepy nonsense in response. The two of them appeared to be covered in Scott’s old bathrobe. And what Scott had initially interpreted as Virgil’s arm slung over the both of them from behind him in fact ended in one of John’s elegant hands… a John who happened to be wearing one of Virgil’s flannel shirts. No, wait… Scott squinted at the cuff in the half light… Two. John was sporting double plaid.

You know what, fair enough.

The squid was squidding on Virgil’s other side, limbs locked on and only a shock of dark blonde hair visible as his face was buried between Virgil’s shoulder blades. A long time ago Scott would have worried at his ability to breathe in that position but although their little fish had not yet developed the ability to respire underwater (much to his obvious frustration), he had long proven himself perfectly able to obtain sufficient oxygen through apparently impermeable brotherly surfaces.

Scott reached out with all available senses to locate the final piece of the brother puzzle and it didn’t take long. Allie’s pointy chin dug into his thigh and… yeah he’d been drooling in his sleep the same way he had ever since he was a toddler. The soggy patch on his jeans was going to be hard to ignore now he’d noticed it but, aww, Allie.

A lithe dark shape reclined in the bedside chair, constantly on guard even in slumber. A smaller stockier one was tucked into the bed, snoring ever so gently.

As Scott’s eyes adjusted to the gloom he noticed a mysterious green glow in the armchair in the far corner - lifting his head ever so slightly he could identify MAX’s standby light glinting off a pair of glasses.

Truly, everyone was here.

As if knowing she’d been left off his mental checklist a hologram popped up from the bedside comm at 10% brightness, still a surprise that made him blink his eyes rapidly to compensate. The familiar ring of lights flickering then shifting into a single question mark.

He wasn’t sure when his feelings had shifted from being creeped out to being comforted by her constant watch over them all but, his heart warmed by the enquiry, he raised a hand, ever so gradually, to form a thumbs up.

The lights shifted and spun in a rainbow of colours before mimicking the thumbs up symbol, shifting quickly to a heart shape and then a series of Zs before blinking out.

He couldn’t decide whether he was more amused that EOS was now communicating via teenage emoji-speak or that she was now also nagging him to sleep. Virgil had started snoring slightly and that always had a soporific effect and so a large part of Scott’s brain was inclined to take her advice. He screwed up his face trying to suppress a huge yawn. After all… given he knew someone was keeping an eye on things…

perhaps it would be ok to let himself… drift… just a little…

💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙

Virgil woke in a symphony of family.

It was not, he would acknowledge, what most people would understand as music. Sure, he could hear them, could pick out their individual ways of breathing and all their other little sleep noises as easily as if they spoke their names in a roll call. But it wasn’t entirely an auditory thing. Nor was it entirely a visual, olfactory or tactile thing either… not entirely, although they all played a part.

He felt them all, their presence surrounded him in full technicolour. And he could hear the colours and see the inaudible sounds of the music they made merely by existing.

He knew each brother’s melody, and those of Kayo, Grandma and Hiram too… they wove around and through him and harmonised with his own motif, supporting it, lifting it, enhancing it into something more beautiful. He made sense. He knew he was home precisely where he belonged. He was safe. Everyone accounted for.

And yet…

There was another here too.

Hollow. Barely tangible. No life force of his own, he… it… was fuelled by desperation and denial… memory mutated. Virgil knew he was there and yet his presence was only a shadow.

He opened one eye with a sense of trepidation and, suspicion confirmed, closed it again, curling his body back into the embrace of the real and the solid.

Gordon clung to his left, Scott surrounded his right, the scent of both flooded over him, he could feel their breath. But he could feel Him too.

Virgil knew what was happening - he’d been here before, after all. And now he knew, he knew it would pass soon and in a significant way that made it less horrifying, albeit still deeply deeply uncomfortable. But… perhaps�� he could approach this with a degree of scientific detachment? Virgil slowly opened his eyes, allowed the light of dawn to enter his pupils and wondered how much of what he would see was actually entering his brain that way.

Standing, head bowed, by the end of the bed was Scott.

His Scotty. His best, most faithful friend, familiar as his own soul.

Broken.

Bearded, battered, bruised… he raised his face to meet Virgil’s gaze from within darkened, swollen eye sockets, blue only just managing to penetrate the mess of yellow, purple and red.

Cheekbones like knives, skeletal hands peeking out from sleeves of that cursed blue, the wrong blue. Not Scott’s bright astral blue. Too dark, too formal. It smothered him.

He looked so tired and so faded he was almost grey.

Virgil’s heart stuttered - how could he have let this happen? He was supposed to look after him! He was supposed to prevent…

The big brother Scott that was his conscience frowned, the haggard wraith Scott that was his sickness shook his head, the sleepy but solid Scott who held him close tightened his grip as if to stop him launching himself down that mental rabbit hole. Virgil allowed himself a tiny amused smile as he briefly closed his eyes to savour the hug - no version of Scott, real or illusory, would ever stand by and let him take the blame.

He looked up again, intending to whisper an apology anyway…

But he was gone.

And he was here.

He was right here.

💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚

[sushiikinsss]

oh hi there friends, lurkers, followers and aliens..

it’s me, sushii. the one who said she would return .. a lot sooner than this.. but nevertheless, i have been here and there and everywhere except actually posting because i’ve been attempting to put myself first.. which has been a success and a failure all at the same time..

a bit of news is i would have returned sooner but stupid me ran out of antidepressant medication during the easter break which triggered a full blown manic depressive moment which could have ended up in hospitalisation for myself but the doctors in my city were “apparently limited and couldn’t deal with extras” so my poor husband had to deal with the beginning of my psychosis all by himself. also, i am starting to see a therapist on the thirteenth of may, hopefully this works out because i clearly need help..

but yeah, luckily im back on my medication now and feeling somewhat okay and i am actually having urges to plan and make content again so, if you would love to see that, please stick around.. i would love to see you there.

but, ive missed you a lot, please catch me up on things on your life cause baby; you’re everything.

okies, gonna go back to hiding..

love youu.

xoxo, sushi.

ps, this gif is me saying ive always been here.. you just haven’t seen me cause im in my invisibility cloak.

[panic-pokki]

-Kill this annoying brat?

Yes

Hai

Ok

[neatandniffty]

[powerfulblob]

You know what’s really fucked up?? Other than actively being harmed by this debilitating, rather serious, psychiatric disease?????

I will never fucking take weed.

OK: Is this possible? Yes. Yes it would be.

But what happens when you take weed? You start BELIEVING THINGS THAT AREN'T REAL.

What’s my main problem? I START BELIEVING THINGS THAT AREN'T REAL.

I’m like taking my brain, step by step, why this would be a horrible idea. And still I’m considering. But alas: I don’t even know how it would react with the meds I’m taking so I might literally have a heart attack and die.

My heart yearns for weed like a fish out of the motherfucking ocean.

[demon-of-the-ancient-world]

I want to talk about Athelstan's hallucinations in season 2

He's shown to suffer from them multiple times both before and after the crucifixion, and how it's never quite clear as to whether they're just a cinematic device to show his confliction and the stress he's under (and therefore only really there for the audience's sake), or if he's actually seeing these things in the world of the show way, or if these things *are* really happening in a sense (see - the Mary/angel (?) vision in 2.05; if you were Christian especially at the time it's set, that could be seen as an Actual Heavenly Visit, but it could like. also just be a hallucination because his brain is Bad)

I once heard a theory that Joan of Arc suffered from migraines (which can cause hallucinatory auras in some cases) and that her visions could actually have been a result of that - I'm not saying Athelstan necessarily has the same condition but like. As someone who gets migraines (though minus the freaky aura stuff) I know they show up when the brain is Overstimulated and Unhappy. I also know that hallucinations can occur when a brain is Overstimulated and Unhappy from a variety of causes. And Athelstan has like every cause atm.

(I'm mainly talking about yeah that one scene in the courtyard and then also the demon under the bed scene, and whatever was going on in the communion scene - those were the ones that seemed the most ambiguous to me, the others (blood on the hands, Random Encounter Jesus at the party in 2.10) I think are a result of PTSD and/or just there for the audience to know "oh shit he's still Conflicted about this stuff and religion haunts him")

Listen though in this episode Athelstan:

Was crucified literally like a week ago and is still obviously in a lot of pain

Likewise is probably not sleeping due both to physical pain and the trauma of his situation therefore sleep deprived as all hell

Also I can't imagine he's been eating well or very much

Is probably dehydrated and weak from blood loss

(This is pure speculation but I saw it in a fic once) possibly is taking/has been taking some kind of Medieval painkillers and god knows what's in those

(also pure speculation) could also potentially have/is recovering from a fever due to improper wound care/general extreme bodily stress

Just recently witnessed/participated in a stressful situation on top of all this

Is clearly fucking exhausted

This is a recipe for a Bad Bad Brain

Basically, your boy isn't experiencing some kind of religious epiphany or hanging out with actual demons in episode 5- your boy needs to go the fuck to bed

@levithestripper

@procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics please please tell me if you want me to stop tagging you in my athelstan bullshit bc I'm gonna keep doing it otherwise i need t oScream with u

[friendball-irl]

OOC Warning: Please mind the tags. This one's a bit heavy. Take care of yourselves, please.

The Lovers: Love, Relationships, Values

The Tower: Disaster, Chaos, Revalation

[CONNECTION FOUND

Text document opened.

...

Everything hurts

I can't think I don't want to think I only think of them

I hurt when they hurt I want it to stop

I can't stop caring why can't I stop

I can't help them why can't I make it better for them I'm useless all I want is for them to be happy but they aren't happy and that means I'm not happy it's not fair it's not fair it's not fair why isn't it fair

Please make it stop make it stop PLEASE

Andi please can't you help me aren't you powerful aren't you almost a god why can't you help me

Can't you take me somewhere where everything's fine

Please

Anyone

Please

I can't live like this

I don't want to live like this

...I want to live

How can I live without this

Wait

I could

Yes

Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YEYESYESYESYEYESYESYESYEYESYESYESYEYESYESYESYEYESYESYESYEYESYESYES

I could be like her

Careless

Fearless

Strong

I

I can't ask for her help

She hates me I know it

But

Her home

That region

That's where it happens

I can go there

CONNECTION LOST]

...

{I... Oh, arc... what... Gray, what are you doing...?}

[heckalecki]

i will be updating soon i promise !! not to go all ao3 ‘sorry for the late update i was in jail’ but i watched dune (1984) and nearly had a psychotic episode 😭 lmao it’s not funny but it is cracking me up a bit. i’m okay tho !! always seek help if you need it. or think you might need it.

[alice--pallas]

TRIGGER WARNING: mental illness (depression, psychosis), abuse mention, drug addiction, pregnancy mention

❀ *◦ kaya scodelario. cis woman. she/her. bisexual. ⇝ hey, isn’t that alice pallas? i think that the thirty-three year old from chicago, illinois works as a journalist at the anchorage daily diem, but outside of that, people describe them as soft rain on your window pane early in the morning & the smell of fresh coffee. i hear they are stubborn & impatient, but they are also known to be nurturing & genuine. consider giving them a visit at their home in delilah’s den gated community and get to know why they’re called the empath.

BASIC INFORMATION

NAME: Alice Marie Pallas NICKNAMES: Al, Ali BIRTH NAME: Aliki Elena Pallas AGE: 33 BIRTH DATE: October 30, 1991 ZODIAC SIGN: Scorpio  ETHNICITY: Brazilian, Greek GENDER: Cisgender female (she/her) ORIENTATION: Bisexual BIRTHPLACE: Meteora, Greece  OCCUPATION: Journalist for the Anchorage Daily Diem 

RELATIONSHIPS

SIBLINGS: Cyrek Fawn (brother, fraternal triplet), Caleb Alcott (brother, fraternal triplet, deceased) Astarion Choi (brother), Samantha Alcott (step-sibling), Haerin-Mae-Nava'i (step-sibling), Alizka Palls-Dexicos (half-sibling), Annaki Pallas-Dexicos (half-sibling); Anka Mae-Nava'i (sister-in-law), Micah Villanelle (sister-in-law) RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single CHILDREN: Rhea Pallas

PHYSICAL TRAITS

FACE CLAIM: Kaya Scodelario EYE COLOUR: Blue HAIR COLOUR: Dyed blonde, naturally brown HEIGHT: 5′6″ WEIGHT: 120 lbs. BODY BUILD: Slim 

HEALTH

ALLERGIES: N/A SMOKES?: No  DRINKS?: No DRUGS?: No CHRONIC ILLNESS: N/A

DISORDERS

ADDICTIONS: Heroin (in recovery), alcohol (in recovery) MENTAL DISORDERS: Depression WHEN WAS THIS DIAGNOSED?: Alice was diagnosed with depression when she was 17 after an overdose. At the time, she was specifically dealing with a bout of psychotic depression

BIOGRAPHY

EARLY BEGINNINGS

Alice was born on October 30, 1991 in Meteora, Greece via C-section. While she greeted the world, she left her two triplet brothers, Cyrek and Caleb, behind. Alice, Cyrek, and Caleb did not share the same father and therefore are triplets due to paternal superfecundation

Alice's father met her mother while on a business trip in Greece. They had a brief yet torrid love affair and afterwards, her father went back to Chicago, planning to never look back. However, when he found out that he had a daughter on the other side of the world, he couldn't leave her behind. Shortly after Alice was born, her father flew back to Greece and collected his daughter. Growing up, Alice had no idea about her origins

Alice's father, David, didn't know quite what to say when he brought a little girl home to his wife. Needless to say, she was furious and swiftly filed for divorce, leaving David to be a single father to young Alice. While Alice was growing up, David tried to be there for his daughter, despite his busy work schedule

Growing up, Alice was very close to her father, even though he had to go away for work a lot. Being a hotshot lawyer, David had plenty of money to supply Alice with nannies and practically anything she could ask for, though she didn't really care about any of that. Her favorite thing was getting to spend time with her father. However, she always felt the aching absence of a mother figure and David never really had a good answer when Alice inquired about her mother. Her father just felt like it was too complicated a situation to explain to a young child

As a young girl, Alice got involved with figure skating and at the very beginning, she'd wanted to be a professional figure skater. While her love of writing overtook that dream, she never stopped skating, as she always loved the feeling it gave her

While Alice was relatively well-behaved throughout her childhood, she developed a rebellious streak in high school and began to act out. She would sneak out, go to parties, and get drunk. David was at a loss of what to do for his daughter. He tried disciplining her but that only pushed her away. Alice felt like she deserved a little freedom and it was all just good fun--at least, that was until she met Tristan

Tristan was a few years older than Alice and was your classic misunderstood bad boy--though when they met, Alice didn't realize how bad he truly was. What started out as a whirlwind romance quickly spiraled into a cycle of abuse. Even worse, Tristan introduced Alice to heroin and she was instantly hooked. Alice, who desperately wanted to feel loved and cared for, quickly fell into this cycle and once she was in, she had no idea how she was going to get out

Alice, a 17 year old who had once been a straight-A student, was now regularly skipping school to meet up with Tristan and get high. Her grades quickly plummeted and it wasn't long before her father figured out what was really going on. After a huge fight with her father, Alice sought solace in a needle Tristan. In a desperate attempt to numb everything out, Alice accidentally overdosed on heroin that happened to be laced with fentanyl and when Tristan realized what was happening, he bailed, leaving her for dead. It was only thanks to her father finding her in the nick of time that she was able to be saved  

THE BREAKING POINT

What no one realized at the time was that Alice had been suffering from hallucinations for over a year at that point. The first time she experienced the hallucinations, she thought she'd been drugged. But she quickly discovered that she was having at first auditory, and then visual hallucinations, even when she was stone-cold sober. Being a teenager, she felt like if she told anyone, they'd think she was crazy so she kept it to herself. Sickeningly, it seemed that heroin was the only thing that gave her relief from her hallucinations, which only further fueled her addiction

When Alice came to in the hospital after her overdose, she was met with a look of frightened relief from her father. David was at his wits end and didn't know how else to help his daughter. He informed Alice that she would be going to a treatment center to get the help that she needed. Though Alice went kicking and screaming, quite literally, it didn't change her reality--she was stuck in that hospital for what felt like forever

Alice certainly wasn't cooperative at first. In fact, she spent about a year-and-a-half treating her treatment plan like a joke. She would sneak around, find the liquor that the staff had stashed for themselves, and get wasted. Unable to get her hands on any drugs, she settled for alcohol instead. While alcohol hadn't been a huge problem for her before, it now became her crutch. While in treatment, she was diagnosed with severe depression and she found out that the hallucinations had stemmed from a bout of psychotic depression which occurred due to lack of treatment. Even with this information, Alice was perfectly fine with rotting away in the facility for the rest of her life, too lost in her self-loathing to better herself. It wasn't until Alec showed up that everything changed

For better or worse, the prospect of love is what motivated Alice to really work on her recovery. Alec, who had once been one of Tristan's old friends, showed up one day out of the blue--and as a patient nonetheless. Even though he'd hung out with Tristan back then, Alec wasn't anything like Alice's abusive ex-boyfriend. Alec was kind and sweet, if not a little lost, and their romance quickly blossomed. After another year spent actually working towards her recovery, Alice was finally released from the hospital and things moved quickly with Alec

A FALSE START

After getting out of the hospital at 20, Alice was ready for a fresh start. Sober and feeling happier than ever, she enrolled in college where she studied journalism, as she'd always wanted to be a writer. She and Alec moved into together almost immediately and everything was bliss

During her second year of college, Alice was reunited with her long-lost brothers, Atticus and Cyrek. After spending her entire life as a lonely only child, she suddenly had a twin brother and an older brother to bond with. At first, she was unable to forgive her father for lying to her for so long. She'd asked so many times about her mother and where she was and all he'd done was lie. She didn't speak to her father for about 6 months but eventually, they reconciled. After all, she couldn't deny that David was the one person that had been there for her as a child. Sure, he hadn't always had the right answers or known what to do but he had stayed and that's what mattered to her the most

While Alice's life was seemingly cheerful on the outside, inside, she was struggling with her recovery and she relapsed a couple times. Still, even with a few bumps in the road, she never gave up. Through each relapse, her loved ones were always there for her, especially Alec--which is why it was so devastating to discover that Alec had been dealing drugs behind her back to make ends meet. One evening, Alice had found a massive load of pills stashed inside the toilet tank and she almost lost it. Oddly enough, a huge blowout argument resulted in Alec asking Alice to marry him. In hindsight, it was clearly doomed from the start but Alice was so happy at the prospect of having someone to love her for the rest of her life, she was willing to look past this mistake

After a long engagement, as well as some trials and tribulations, Alice graduated college with her Bachelor Degree in Journalism and got married to Alec. It was a beautiful wedding day that was filled with all of her loved ones. It was the start of something so promising--Alice couldn't wait to build a family with Alec and grow old together. But unfortunately, it was never meant to be

Alec had been struggling mentally, though he'd kept it a secret for Alice--that is, until he could no longer keep it hidden. One night after Alice got home from work, she found Alec in the middle of a mental break. She'd tried to calm him down but nothing worked and he eventually ran off into the night. He disappeared for 2 straight weeks--Alice had had him declared a missing person and everything. However, when he finally did re-emerge, he apologetically told Alice that he needed help and space. Though she insisted on sticking by his side, in sickness and in health, he insisted that he didn't want her by his side. This broke Alice

Alone and abandoned, Alice spiraled into a depression and relapsed with heroin. Thankfully, her brothers quickly helped her get into rehab where she was reminded why she had worked so hard to get clean in the first place. Since then, Alice has proudly remained sober

A NEW LEAF

Life after marriage was difficult for Alice and she went through a period of feeling very ashamed of her failed marriage and the fact that she was a 25 year old divorcee. Even though all of her loved ones knew it wasn't her fault, she couldn't help but feel embarrassed and for a time, she foolishly swore of love entirely

Though she was still heartbroken over Alec, what was even more devastating was the fact that she'd planned to have a family with her ex-husband and now, that had all been seemingly ripped away from her. However, after a while of being stubborn, Alice finally realized that she didn't need a partner to have a child. She made the decision to go forward with invitro and in December of 2019, she found out that she was expecting

On August 12, 2020, Alice gave birth to a beautiful baby girl and named her Rhea. The little girl, now four, is Alice's pride and joy. Even though one day, she would still love to find someone to share her life with, her daughter, her amazing extended family, and her wonderful friends have truly made Alice the happiest she's ever been

Alice is currently a journalist at the Anchorage Daily Diem. While she tries her best to only stick to the stories that her boss wants her to cover, due Alice's natural curious mind, she often finds herself getting into sticky situations and putting her nose where it shouldn't necessarily be

Alice still figure skates as a hobby and you can usually find her down at the rink early in the morning--her favorite way to greet her day is with a hot cup of coffee and a loop around the rink

[madmanwonder]

Send “I Am Twisted in Love and Madness” for muses to display extreme psychosis and obsessive love toward their significant other

[youareallowedchips]

i might start actually taking an anti-psychotic ngl because my delusions abt phone-bugging and false memories were driving me INSANE

i srsly thought this one person in my life had tapped into my phone and was reading my onedrive documents and subliminally forcing me to send them messages & delete them

lol. lololololol. i love being mentally ill

[idontknowreallywhy]

Resurface 12 - Remember

Parts 1-11 here

So… we finally find out what happened on the roof. Sort of… *cough* sorry Johnny… and Virg… and Jeff. And Scott who I presume is on the receiving end of some version of this account from John…

🧡💚💙🧡💚💙🧡💚🧡💚💙🧡💚🧡💙🧡

He’d done what he was asked. The kids were “kept out of the way” even if they were yelling and crying and rattling pointlessly at the door handle he’d wedged the chair under. He felt awful about it but they had to be safe, not see anything… worrying. Anything that could cause them more problems than they already had. But he couldn’t just stay and babysit when everything might be going wrong. Dad might need help.

John should have seen this was coming. He should have paid more attention. He should have stopped it. He should have been less selfish. Pressing his knuckles into the spaces between his nose and his eyeballs he swallowed hard then raised his voice above the yelling, told Gordon and Alan he’d be back in just a minute. Then with suddenly trembling limbs followed his father up the fold down ladder to the flat part of the roof they used for stargazing.

The sky was cloudless, the sun had just set and blue hour was upon them, the iron oxide-soaked sandstone gleaming as red as any of Dad’s Martian landscape images. Here, in the lee of the dormer there was a dead calm, as if the wind was anxiously holding its breath in the same way John was. His father, about 5 feet above him was edging carefully across the ridge towards where the peaked roof of John’s third storey attic room loomed over the rest of the ranch. Dad looked back over his shoulder and frowned, silently demanding silence.

John complied. His throat had seized up anyway. As had pretty much every nerve in his body the moment as his eyes drifted past his father’s clambering form to the figure standing tall at the highest point of the roof. He clung to the railing at the top of the stairs and prayed to anyone that would listen that this wasn’t what it looked like.

Virgil was stood at the highest point of the roof, one hand resting atop the chimney stack, the other gesticulating as if he was engaged in a passionate debate. His posture was so familiar, the unstyled hair hanging in his face, less so. He couldn’t hear exactly what his brother was saying but his tone was friendly, good humoured even. Which, given the circumstances, was downright eerie.

A solitary bird of prey wailed impatiently as it hovered overhead. Peregrine, probably, John realised with a pang. Scott would point them out as they passed through every spring and every fall. He remembered the otherwise ‘so much more grown up than you lot’ fourteen year old bouncing gleefully around the yard the day they’d seen a female stoop on a pigeon right overhead. Every Tracy knew, because he reminded them often, that that was the fastest any living creature could travel under its own steam, although Scott was determined to break that record one day.

John was aware it should probably be ‘had been’ but was not in any way ready to make that shift. Not in any way at all. He swallowed hard at the lump threatening to close up his throat and returned his attention to his next biggest brother. He edged slightly closer as Dad finally reached Virgil and held out a hand.

Virgil didn’t take it.

More wailing from above, multiple voices this time. John, unable to resist glancing up at the sound, counted a group of four hastening through the sky towards the lone dot in the distance which he imagined wheeling back around at the cries of waaaaaaait-waaaaaait. Scott’s reverent voice reminded him that these birds travelled alone except for newly fledged siblings who would undertake their first big migration together for protection and moral support.

“YOU’RE UNBELIEVABLE!”

Virgil’s raised voice dragged John’s attention back - how had he lost concentration? What had he missed? His father was talking in a low voice, but John detected an edge he could quite place? He was… uncertain? That wasn’t like Dad at all. To hell with it, he had to get over there. He abandoned stealth and scrambled along the roof until the frustrated pain in his brother’s shout stopped him in his tracks.

“WHY WON’T YOU LET ME HELP HIM?!”

Virgil’s back was to his father and he flinched away as Dad reached out to touch his shoulder.

“HE’S GONE, VIRGIL! THIS IS JUST… A… A FANTASY…! YOU HAVE TO COME DOWN! Please…”

His father’s voice was finally raised but then cracked, agonisingly, on that last word and Virgil spun to face him, fury in his eyes.

Time slowed. John felt tension thicken the air, as potent as the moment before a storm breaks and it resolved in much the same way: With a roar of anger and a strike of pent up energy from Virgil’s muscular arm.

Dad crumpled to his knees and leant heavily against the chimney breast. There was absolute silence. John tore his eyes from his father to gape up at his strongest yet most determinedly non-violent brother, in time to see the horrified expression on Virgil’s face, staring at his own clenched fist as though it belonged to someone else entirely. He looked around in a panic and began to shuffle backwards away from his father, more like a small, frightened animal about to bolt than the broad, reassuring presence John knew him to be.

John was moving before his mind even registered the implications. Of course he was too slow, he should have been there to start with. He called out to try to warn him but only succeeded in causing his brother’s eyes to lock on to his for the split second before they widened further and he disappeared from view.

🧡💚💙🧡💚💙🧡💚🧡💚💙🧡💚🧡💙🧡

[cherubcameron]

So my moms psychosis has gotten worse. I think I’m going to go on a hiatus for a little while. It’s been a little too much for me. Seeing her like that, it’s really hard. To whoever else has psychosis or is dealing with a family member that does. My heart goes out to you, it’s not easy at all.