Making a moodboard of a specific type of emotional flashback I get sometimes, in order to cope with it, plus something in the middle I needed to hear
Some things I couldn’t express visually include being cold, being hungry, buzzing of lights, painful voices from another room, and feeling like asking for nothing and being nothing this must be what safety feels like, because it’s the best you have right then, so you should get used to it
This event will only be active from February (Half of the 8th technically) 9th to 10th due to timezones. Anything afterwards won't be counted to this event, and it will be promptly deleted. If you'd like to participate, please interact only in the inbox to avoid clutter. Anon asks are allowed, but you will pop up as letters.
Coupé, despite herself, finds a certain day to be quite hard to manage through. Out of all the meticulous events in the world— this is something she tries to avoid at all times. Will she spend this annual event alone or will someone interact unexpectedly with her?
TW: Child labour and implied neglect.
{ This should not affect you as heavily as it does. Your experience didn't depend on frivolous matters such as this. You were an assassin— a weapon meant to be carved to perfect. The mob taught two lessons to you. One, you kill the corruption waning in the city. Two, you kill the person who risks the paycheck to come in. Now that was gone, it felt odd. Empty. }
{ A swan is what she is. Mysterious, alluring, and deadly. Nobody knows her personal affairs heavily, and that's how she likes it. Unlike the normal swan, this one carries herself alone. The Z-Team gave her the friendship she needed, but it wasn't something she thought she deserved. }
{ In the dead of night, where most souls weren't easily swayed, the young woman was awake. The young albino teenager was asleep— snuggled amongst her feline. Something that he needed was definitely sleep. Her favoured supermarket is open, and it's nearing the time of that day. }
{ So when she arrives for an annual visit— the air-conditioning hits her skin. The familiar sensation of a niche business that wasn't exactly known to many. A mental list was fixated on her mind. A bottle of Lindauer wine, 90% cocoa dark chocolate, and two containers of fresh cherries. The amount of money she brought was always the exact price it cost. }
{ The clerk has seen her for at least four years already. This will make it her fifth. It was always at this time— making a silent acquaintance with one another. Loneliness waned on her heart deeply. An ache that never seemed to go away no matter how hard she tried. When the miscellaneous objects were checked out, a set of words ran into her mind that the clerk said. "Take care of yourself, girl." That made her pause in the ache before blinking that emotion to the side. It was probably the closest to that "celebration" people talk about often when discussing this day. She returned the sentiment and left. }
{ Upon Janelle arriving home, the groceries hit the sleek black counter with a subdued THUD. A subconscious series of actions was done right after. This time— she had someone upstairs— so she couldn't get too much of her frustrations out. A recently sharpened knife, ingredients for a cupcake, and a prepped oven. }
{ Everything else was a blur. Between pouring a glass of wine and the hint of red in the batter as she stirs— these were all actions she's done since she has left the mob to become independent. Part of her yearns for the company, and another loathes it. The young woman never found out why herself. }
{ Placing the cupcake in the oven, the time ran as slow as it could. This gave Janelle time to do mundane things she hasn't been able to do. Her hand rests against the handle of the blade, the snake under her palm. Angling her head towards a vintage mirror, she cuts meticulously in front. Hair fell onto her shirt and the ground, which reminded her of the death she caused. A smile quirked on her lips only for a moment. The phonograph had her favourite record playing— she must've put it on while making the tiny cake. }
{ Once the subtle DING was heard, her lips curled into an ambivalent expression. Icing, cherries, and a swan-shaped candle to top it off. This was something she learnt was recently called a birthday. Nobody knew her birthday until an anonymous person revealed it was nearing. But nobody figured out the date. }
{ A dampness weighs her eyes but never comes out. Janelle looks at the clock. It was midnight. With a stifled sigh, she lit her candle and put on a new record. }
tw for: implied homophobia/transphobia, hallucinations, implied neglect (idk if there is more)
Being 16 was hard for anyone, that was a well known fact. But for a young transmasc person with overbearing parents, and ignored mental illness trying to teach his little sibling things while also fighting for what little freedom he can get?
Berry was trying faer best. Berry, with a dull expression, sleep deprived eyes, choppy box dyed black hair and a few piercings that were bound to get infected starting to pop up on faer face, was at faer limit.
He stood over his parents, watching their sleeping faces. Fae could remember a time of tenderness, looking at the peaceful expressions.
It could be the hallucinations, but he swore he could see their faces twist into the warm smiles fae remembers from faer childhood.
But it was their fault he was leaving. Berry wouldn't be doing this if it wasn't for them.
He wouldn't, fae wouldn't, he wouldn't.
He wouldn't leave faer sibling, fae wouldn't feel the guilt.
Fae touched their foreheads, his own head being flooded with memories of them- of himself.
The first time his father held him, when they taught faer how to ride a bike, when they let him run the bonfires in the backyard.
And when things when wrong. When he fucked them up.
He felt the disappointment and the feeling of failure that faer own parent felt when fae came out. He felt the coldness that followed, the sympathy.
When the memories were done flooding faer mind, and everything was left cold, fae could feel something wet on his cheeks and the accelerated breathing in his chest.
Fae traveled down to faer brother's room. It was the room you would expect from a 12-13 year old kid.
He looked at the kid, smiling softly in a way that was very rarely seen by anyone in his life. Fae dreaded what fae had to do.
He leaned out, gently moving the hair out of the kid's face and lowering faerself to place a soft kiss on their forehead.
A warmth spread through the kid, behind their eyes. It wasn't the same searing heat that typically devoured the victims of 451.
It was the warmth if a campfire on a warm night, much like the ones Berry used to start for them to roast marshmallows over. It was the warmth of a fireplace on a cold night while the two siblings shared stories to tempt each other to sleep.
It was the warmth of love, unconditional and soft.
Berry was gone the next day, from their memories, from their lives.
They noticed nothing different, but the kid- they noticed that they somehow felt colder, with no memory of the warmth that they were missing.
//aaaa okay this was written rlly quickly so sorry for typos or whatever else.
The gender of the little sibling is purposefully left up to interpretation in case someone wants to make an oc for them/has an oc/ if i want to make the acct later
Trauma Culture is needing someone to answer a thousand questions correctly for you trust and work towards letting them into your life (Between being bullied for my plain below plain looks and my parents forgetting important things I say to them all the time it's a miracle I'm as sane as I am)
Summary: Roman and Remus run away from home after their parents threaten to put them in a boarding school. The two of them often got in trouble with the law for crimes like vandalism, stealing, and fighting, however now they have to adjust to living a crime-free life to avoid getting caught. They drive to another state and try to find an apartment to live in and jobs there. They eventually manage to find a relatively cheap apartment—their next-door neighbor then offers them a job at a store that his family owns. Once at the store they make a couple of friends, all while trying to get rid of their bad habits.
Masterpost Chapter 2
Chapter Warnings: Implied Neglect, Implied Abuse, Food Mentioned (If I missed any please tell me)
Age(s): Roman (16), Remus (16)
-
Roman looks out the window. They have no idea where exactly they are at the moment, all they know is that Remus has been driving for about two hours. They try to distract themselves by counting the trees passing by, despite the fact that they’re obviously going by too quickly.
They continued to try to distract themselves, but found the task virtually impossible. No matter how many trees they counted, or clouds they tried to shape, or road signs they've tried to quickly read, they just can’t seem to get their mind off of their home and the plan. They don’t understand why they’re having second thoughts.
They know why they had to leave. They helped make the plan and suggested that they go through with it as quickly as possible. This was the safest thing to do and they didn’t exactly have a lot of time to wait.
“Roman.”
The sudden talking snaps Roman out of their thoughts with a small jump. They take a deep breath and turn to their twin.
Despite being identical twins, Remus and Roman have always been easy to tell apart. For one, Roman is slightly tanner than their older brother. They also have freckles while Remus doesn’t. The older twin also happens to have a darker hair color then the other, though they both have the same curly hair. They do have the same brown eyes, though Roman has slightly bigger eyes. The biggest difference between the two twins is their heights.
As kids, the twins were around the same height; however, this changed when the twins were around 13-years-old. At this time, Remus began to grow taller and taller everyday while Roman’s growth was slower and less drastic. Currently, Remus is 6’3’’, 10 inches taller than their younger sibling.
“Yes?” They respond.
The older twin points to a sign on the road that shows the food places nearby, “Where do you want to eat? We need a break and I’m hungry.”
It was only when Remus mentioned food that Roman realized they’re hungry too. Afterall, they haven’t eaten anything since last night. They haven’t even stopped driving aside from once for some gas.
“I guess Waffle House works,” the other mumbles after thinking for a while. “It’s morning so we might as well have breakfast. Plus, it’s been a while since we’ve had decent pancakes, I forgot what they taste like.”
Remus lets out almost a bitter laugh and nods, “Alright. We’ll get there in like 10 minutes or so.”
The younger sibling just nods and looks out the window again. They want to voice their concerns to their older brother but they know that they’ll get a negative reaction.
It’s completely logical too. The two of them risked everything on this plan. They both knew that the second they got on the road, there’s no turning back as doing so would make their situation a million times worse. So any second thoughts could possibly be the thing that could unravel their entire plan.
“What’s wrong?” Remus asks, immediately knowing that there’s something off with his sibling.
This was something Roman was expecting. The two of them have always been able to read one another like books. While they can easily lie to anyone else, they’re never able to lie to one another. People have always told them it’s because they’re twins and have a special bond, but the two of them know the truth. The truth is they only trust one another, so they’re subconsciously vulnerable around one another. They don’t feel the need to pretend which in turn makes them into open books.
This ability to tell when each other is lying has often discouraged the twins from even attempting to lie to each other. There really was no need to try since they knew they would never get away with it.
Roman sighs shaking their head, “Can we talk about this later? I think I’m too tired to think straight at the moment.”
“Alright. But don’t think I’m going to forget about this or anything.”
Remus knows that his twin usually tries to get out of situations by pushing it aside until everyone forgets about it. This is something they often do with their parents or at school. It usually works too, that’s why they use it so often to avoid certain conversations. It’s even worked on Remus a few times.
The shorter sibling sighs, “I know you won’t.”
For the rest of the ride to the Waffle House was silent. It wasn’t that they didn’t have anything to say, it was more like no one knew how to voice their thoughts. They both had so much they knew they should say, but they just didn’t have the courage to break the silence. Besides, both of them knew that their thoughts would just make the rest of the car ride uncomfortable and tense.
Once they arrive at the restaurant the two of them get out of the car and walk in. It takes about 15 minutes or so before they are seated. The two of them order their food and start eating immediately once they receive it.
In the beginning they eat in silence, both of them too hungry to care for conversation. It was only when Remus was halfway done with his last pancake when he decided he was ready to bring up a topic that he knew needs to be addressed.
“Roman,” he starts, looking up at his shorter sibling, “You’re having second thoughts, right? That’s what’s been bothering you, am I correct?”
The freckled-faced teen sighs, “Yeah, I have had a few second thoughts.”
Roman stops eating and puts their fork down. They let out a sigh and close their eyes for a minute or two. After some thinking they open their eyes again and look up before continuing to talk.
“But, I know we have to do this so don’t think you have to lecture me or anything.”
The taller teen shakes his head, “I’m not going to lecture you, Ro. I just thought I’ll reassure you a bit,” he starts poking at his food, “If I’m being honest, I’m having some second thoughts.”
This shocked the tanner twin, “Really? You’ve had second thoughts too?”
“Yeah, but we can’t stop now,” Remus says in a slightly more determined tone, “I promised I would get you out of that household and set us free. I plan to fulfill that promise. Plus, it’s too late to turn back now. They’ve probably already realized we are gone so if we go back now, we’ll be in a lot of trouble.”
Roman nods and mumbles quietly, “I know.”
There’s another silence as the two of them thought about their home. Their parents have never exactly been the best. It was obvious to pretty much anyone who has met the twins. In fact, their family has always been a topic of conversation in their hometown.
Roman and Remus are infamous where they live due to the fact that they often misbehave. They’ve gotten in trouble with the law before, been taken to alternative school, and have even been put in troubled youth programs. Due to this fact, they know that many people in their town won’t be surprised when the news breaks out that they’ve run away. In fact, the two have already tried running away a handful of times, this is just their most successful attempt so far.
“Where are we going to stay until we find a permanent place to live?” Roman speaks up as they finish their food, “I don’t want to stay in a runaway shelter again.”
The older brother nods, “Don’t worry we won’t be staying in a runaway shelter or anything. Last time was bad enough. I know a few people we can stay with for a couple of days. We have to find jobs and get an apartment as quickly as we can though. I don't want to live with another person too long.”
“Okay, I’m fine with that,” the other says with a shrug, “I don’t really want to live with some stranger either. I want some peace and quiet in a house for once.”
Remus nods, “Okay well we should get going. Use the restroom now since we aren’t taking another break. I’ll go ahead and pay.”
“Alright. I’ll meet you outside then.”
Roman stands up and goes off to use the restroom. Remus in the meantime finishes the last of his food before paying and going outside. He pulls his phone out and stares at it for a while before taking a deep breath.
He dials the number of the one person he felt he could fully trust with their situation. He knew that he had to find a place for him and his sibling to stay sooner rather than later. He also knew that he had to be careful with who he asked for help though. If he asked the wrong person, then there’s the possibility that the police will be contacted and they’ll be forced to go back home.
Remus has thought about this problem the entire car ride. So, by now he’s gone through the process of elimination and is down to one person.
The 16-year-old is relieved when the phone stops ringing and he hears his friend’s voice. He waits no time to quickly explain the situation he and his twin are in. Once he finishes his explanation, he asks for help. He knows that there’s a high chance his pleas will get rejected and he’ll be forced to quickly find an alternative plan, but he has to take the risk. And the risk ends up paying off when his friend agrees to help him. He thanks his friend and after a minute or two more of talking, he hangs up the phone.
“Hey, I’m back,” Roman walks over to their brother with a smile.
Remus nods and gets the keys from his pockets, “Alright, let’s get going then. I don’t want to end up driving in the dark again.”
The two of them get back in the car and hit the road again.
Cw: implied past abuse/torture/neglect, injured whumpee, kinda clueless caretaker who did not sign up for any of this, mild panic attack, whumpee refusing actual professional help, whumpee thinking that they’re going to be returned to whumper, implied prolonged captivity
.•° ✿ °•.
Caretaker didn’t look up as the little bell jingled, the door to their small diner opening.
“I’m sorry, we’re closed-“ Caretaker began automatically, from where they stood with their back turned, wiping down the counter with a disinfectant wipe.
“Is… is there food?” A small voice asked, scratchy and broken. Caretaker glanced over their shoulders, eyebrows scrunching together.
A figure stood in the doorway, small and dirty. At first Caretaker assumed it was a homeless person, they usually came by after hours, when they would give away the food they didn’t sell, but then they started to notice the finer details of their persona.
The person’s hair was tangled and matted, looking like it hadn’t been washed in a while. They wore an oversized jacket that was torn and stained over what Diana assumed used to be a plain white shirt and regular jeans. It wasn’t just dirt that covered their body. Blood, both dry and fresh dotted their clothes, and streaked their face. They didn’t have on shoes or socks.
They looked scared.
“It s- says ‘dinner’ on the sign, and- and dinner means food… is there?”
“Do you mean ‘diner’?” Caretaker dropped the dirtied wipe into the trash, and turned to face the person. They looked back with wide eyes, trembling in place.
“Ye-yes. Diner.” They repeated, nodding their head, looking dazed and confused. “Is there food?”
“Yeah, I’ll get you some food. Why don’t you sit down,” Caretaker motioned towards one of the many booths lining the walls. As the person cautiously sat down, Caretaker made their way back into the kitchens, quickly heating up a large serving of the leftover chicken tenders from that day.
Only once they had placed the food in front of the person, along with a tall glass of water, and sat down across from them, did Caretaker begin to question them.
“Can you tell me your name? Where did you come from?”
“My name… is… Whumpee,” They answered, in between scarfing down bites of food.
“Where did you come from, Whumpee? Did someone hurt you?” Caretaker gently prodded, pulling their phone from their pocket. They needed to call the police, and an ambulance. Whumpee’s eyes widened as what Caretaker was doing registered in their mind, and they froze.
“No, please don’t-“ Whumpee dropped the chicken tender they were holding, clasping their shaking hands together. “Don’t call them, please,”
“I’m not calling them,” Caretaker assured, wondering exactly who ‘them’ was. “I’m calling an ambulance.”
“No, no that’s worse!” Whumpee cried. “Please, don’t, please!”
“There’s people there that can help you, Whumpee,” Caretaker tried to reason, but their finger hovered over the call button, the sheer amount of desperation in Whumpee’s voice enough to throw them off.
“No, please, I can’t go there! I can’t go back!” Whumpee’s hands moved to their hair, yanking at the matted locks, their breathing beginning to speed up.
“Okay, okay, I won’t call, calm down,” Caretaker set their phone down, and held their hands out for Whumpee to see. “See? I’m not calling them,”
Whumpee looked up, a tear cutting through the grime covering their bruised cheeks. Caretaker knew then that they were in for a long night.
Meh, not my favorite, but darn it, it's content! I've got another request that's got me like 👀 lol, but for now, enjoy some jealous Apple as requested by @sideblogformindtrash!
When Master Clay’s friend comes over that afternoon, Apple is told to stay quiet and out of the way. And Benji… right now, they’re the center of attention.
Master Clay’s friend, Will, slings an arm over Master Clay’s shoulder and laughs. He makes some comment about what Benji should be wearing instead of this, and Master Clay… he’s smiling with him.
Apple has been glaring straight at him from behind the couch for hours now, but this, this whole touchy feely thing? Master Clay should be smiling at him like that. Apple knows exactly what he’s doing when he slinks out of his corner and pours drinks for the two of them, and it’s no accident when he brings the drinks over for them and spills Will’s all over his lap.
Will shoots off the couch, and it must be reflexive but it only makes the drink drip down his slacks more. Apple thinks he was stupid to do that. What is Master Clay doing hanging out with such stupid people when he’s here and smart and also here? He’s right here! All the time! If Master Clay ever wanted someone to talk fashion about, Apple could do that! He could talk about anything Master Clay wanted ever.
“Hey!” Master Clay shouts. Benji is standing by him, maybe stunned but more likely afraid to say anything in case they accidentally make things worse.
Apple bows his head from where he’s kneeling on the floor, still holding Master Clay’s drink. “I’m very sorry, sir,” he says to Will, not looking at him. He’s not sorry at all.
Master Clay gets up and instead of checking to see how Apple’s doing after all this, he goes to the little closet in the hall and grabs a towel for Will. Apple nearly scoffs. It’s not his fault Will decided to stand up and make an even bigger mess.
Master Clay gives Will the towel and then turns to Apple, eyes angry but cold. He points at the hallway. “Go to the guest room and stay there,” he growls. “I’ll deal with you when Will leaves.”
“But—” Apple never argues, ever, but he can’t just leave Master Clay alone with touchy feely, stupidly reflexive Will.
“Go!”
Apple sets Master Clay’s drink on the coffee table, on his side so stupid Will doesn’t try to drink it, and then he crawls to the guest room and closes the door behind him. Through it, Apple can hear Master Clay apologizing, and later they’re laughing again, loud and so so happy. Will is making Master Clay happy?
