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kileyrose-2003 · 4 years

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Dan Torrance x Fem! Reader

A/N: This request was submitted by @ateliefloresdaprimavera I hope this is to your liking. Enjoy hun!

Dan anxiously held his hands in his laps as he watched Doctor John stroll up to the podium to begin the meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous. This became a habitual thing for Dan now for the past 8 years but he just felt off today.

He attempted to brush it off as residual anxiety that lingered from his most recent and troubling visit with Abra but his gut told him that wasn't it. Someone unintentionally entered his head. Whoever the person was that caused the disturbance was not a stranger. They felt familiar to him but definitely had a certain dark edge.

"So before we begin we all remember the golden rule right?" All the members in the room nodded. "All that is said in AA stay in AA." They reiterated.

"Good." John slammed his hand down on the podium loudly, making everyone cringe as well as himself. "So who wants to start? How about you Miss? It's been a while since we've had a newbie."

The woman on the other side of the room bent her head down for a moment, rubbing her face to try and self soothe and attempted to sit up straight with semi good posture. "Y-yeah..I uh..I..Sorry, I'm not good with the whole interaction thing but uhm..my names-"

"Y/n." The word rolled off Dan's tongue like it was a sacred prayer before she could even finish her sentence. She looked up at him, a sea of confusion and self loathing gleaming in her eyes. She was deliberately trying to avoid him.

"Your name is Y/n." There was an open chair a few spaces away from Y/n and he moved over to it. Making sure to leave at least a fair distance between them. She was at the same spot he was at 8 years ago and could feel all the pain from it. The words 'The sins of the father always falls upon his children.' Was all he could think of in that moment.

He angeled his head so he could have direct eye contact with her, or at least as much as he could manage to get. "I don't know if you remember me but my name is Dan. We used to be neighbors at the apartment complex."

For a couple of minutes Y/n averted eye contact, staring off seemingly into space. She was more skittish than Dan remembered but still had the same looks. Despite the bags under his, despite everything she had went through, he thought she looked beautiful. "..your favorite sweater had Apollo 11 on it and your dad's name was Jack. Fitting because that's all he ever drank."

She swallowed deeply and fiddled with her fingers. Her mouth beginning to quench for the taste of a good margarita or beer. Even if it meant that it would kill or end her.

(It's the only thing that takes all the ghost away.)

'So she does still have it.' Dan shifted uncomfortably and coughed, his hands subconsciously balling up into fist. "Yeah, um..it was." Billy raised an eyebrow at him from across the room, this expression of amusement on his face and Dan returned the glance.

Doctor John scratched the back of his neck. He was curious about Y/n for sure but god, the tension in the room was unbearable."So..where you from Y/n?" She answered all the questions, trying to be as short as possible.

(You like her, don't you?)

Dan looked at Billy and folded his arms across his chest.

(She was my best friend when I was 5. Before my dad brought us to The Overlook for the summer. She was my 'girlfriend')

Billy examined Y/n up and down.

(She seemed a little..distant when remembering you.)

(I can't say I blame her. Our fathers used to drink together and her's in particular, got violent when he did. She'd never talk about it with me but there are some things you just don't need telepathy for you know?)

He nodded and turned his focus back to Y/n.

"..So Y/n, how did you and Dan lose contact?" They both knew the answer to that question and her face became flushed. Y/N's eyes searched the room almost as if she was looking for someone to save her. "I-i...I'm sorry. I can't." She stood up from her chair and grabbed her purse.

"Y/n..Y/n, please don't go. It wasn't your fault." Dan stood up in an attempt to stop her from leaving. "Danny p-please just leave me alone." Her voice sounded shakey, almost as if she was going to start crying. "But Y/n, I want to help you. Look I know how it feels to live with this stuff and it's not a hallucination, it's-"

He accidentally touched her wrist and she let out a blood curdling shrill. "GET AWAY!" She swung at him out of instinct and hit him straight in the eye. Dan let out a groan and put a hand on top of his sore eye that he knew was going to bruised in the morning. "Y/n! Y/n!" She only shook her head though and walked out the door.

Dan frowned and ran his fingers through his hair. "You okay?" Billy handed him a bag with ice for his eye. "Yeah I'm okay. I just really hoped that would of went better."

"You weren't exactly in the best shape either when you ended up in Frazier, Dan. Just gotta give her some time man. I'll help her get a job. A place to live.." He patted him on the back, giving his best reassuring smile. "I hope so Billy..I hope so."

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"Uncle Dan!" Abra ran up to him excitedly and wrapped her arms in his middle tightly. Dan chuckled slightly and hugged her back. "Hey kiddo. How was school?"

"It was good. I got an A on my biology report." She grinned cheekily and released him from the embrace. "Oh my god. What happened to your eye?"

"Ah, it's nothing kiddo." She raised an eyebrow, almost as if to contradict what he said. "No really, it's nothing. I accidentally scared this girl and she you know..hit me eye."

"She cute?" Dan raised an eyebrow. "Does it matter?" Abra giggled and sat down on a bench. "No, I guess it doesn't but still, is she?" He debated on giving her the look but decided against it. "Yes, she is very pretty. Anyways-"

"Where'd you meet her?" He shook his head. "You're really not going to let me go off the subject of this are you?" Abra smirked. "Nope. So where'd you meet her?"

He thought a little bit before responding. "..a place only adults should have to be. Look-"

(So AA?)

Dan furrowed his brows.

(Sorry. The one time you and Billy were in the car together I accidentally peaked and..you know. I found out. I'm really sorry. )

"It's fine Abra just..Nevermind. That'll have to be conversation we have together later." Abra stared at him for a while, her eyes eventually going in the other direction. "..You've known her for longer than that though, haven't you?"

"Yeah..before I went to the Overlook as a kid. Abra, I know what happens when you get that look in your eye."

Abra just smiled. "Girls like it when boys are considerate. If you're not going to ask her out, which I really think you should, you should at least take her out to get coffee. You kind of owe it to her after the scare."

"Abra, I don't know if I'm ready for that. Or if she would even be okay with that..she's not exactly in a good spot right now."

"You weren't okay for a while too, but look at you now..it only takes one person to make a difference sometimes. Come on Uncle Dan, please." She begged.

"Abra, I don't know. She's been through alot." Dan slid away from her slightly. "Please?" She smiled as sweetly as she could manage. "..okay, fine. I will."

'No you won't. You're only saying it to get me off your back. So now I'm going to have play Cupid.' Abra thought then gave a fake happy squeal. "Yay! You're not going to regret it Uncle Dan. It's going to be awesome and super cute." He patted shoulder. "I'm sure it will be kiddo..I'm sure it will."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Abra, you don't even drink coffee. Why do you want to go into a cafe?" Dan groaned as his niece dragged him down the street. "Because you look like you need some and there are other things there besides coffee that you can buy. Now come on!"

She had to get there before Y/n left. Because she knew Dan wouldn't do what he promised unless she forced him.

She stepped into the shop, making sure she still had a hold of Dan. "Why don't you get a table while I order?"

"Abra, we've been over this. Do you know what people think, especially locals, when they see a young girl like you with a 40 year old white male?" He whispered harshly, trying not to draw to much attention.

"Just relax and let me handle everything, okay?" Abra gave him a reassuring smile and Dan relaxed slightly. "Okay just be careful plese?"

"I will." She grinned and skipped off to the line. She stood firmly in place and closed her eyes. 'Y/n..Y/n.' At first she felt nothing. Then she heard a ping. It got closer and louder until it was finally blaring in her ear. A head blaster by all means.

"S-sweetie? Do you mind to move up please, because the line is long?" Abra let out an inner yell of excitement. She didn't even have to find her. Y/n came walking to her.

"Sure, sorry I was spacing off." Abra scooted up a smidge. "You're Y/n, right?" The older woman's face looked confused. "..yes, why? Do I know you?"

"No, but you know my Uncle Dan." Y/n looked flabbergasted. "You're Dan's niece? I-i didn't know he had any siblings."

"He doesn't. Or at least I don't think so. I'm his honorary one." Y/n just gave a slight courteous nod. She wanted to get out of there. Still hating social interaction even if it was with a child of all people.

"You know my uncle really likes you." Abra treaded over to the counter slowly and placed her order. "D-does he?"

"Mhm. You don't look like you have anyone else here with you. Do you want to have coffee with us?"

Y/n stiffened uncomfortably. "I don't if D-Dan's going to want that..last time I seen him was kind of rough." She blushed out of embarrassment. "He'll get over it. Now come on, I got two coffees for my two favorite adults."

Y/n's eyes widened. The little girl had been planning all of this out. Abra reached out to touch her hand and Y/n recoiled.

(It's okay.)

Y/n's face softened. By now she should of been all flustered yet she felt so at ease. She couldn't remember the last time she felt that way.

(I know it has to be scary but it's all going to be okay I promise.)

Abra gradually extended her hand out and Y/n took it gently in her own. Letting her lead her over to the table.

"There you are. I thought you were having a hard time-" Dan looked up from his magazine, his face turning red. "Abra!" He tried his hardest not to raise his voice. "I thought I told you to leave her-"

"It's fine Danny." He met Y/n's eye. "I can't avoid you forever and it's not like you're going to go away." She tried her hardest to make the words sound gentle.

Dan covered her face and sighed, his elbows folding up the lace table cloth. "Abra, can you give us a few minutes. Please?"

"Yeah." She handed Y/n her coffee. "It was nice meeting you." Y/n smiled shyly. "Nice to meet you as well, Abra." She took her seat across from Dan, keeping her eyes on the teenager to made sure she got out okay.

"She's a sweet kid, you got to admit that Danny." He nodded. "Yeah, she is..and clever at playing cupid too." He muttered the last part softly and Y/n giggled.

"I'm sorry by the way..for what I did to your eye at AA." Y/n took a large gulp of her coffee. "No, no. It was my fault. I pushed too far and I..I just..I really miss you."

"I miss you too." She frowned slightly, her eyes starting to water. "I never forgot about you Y/n..I just didn't want to hurt you. Because I knew what you were going through at home and I had my own mess to take care of and-"

"Dan, you don't need to apologize to me. It's okay." Y/n reached her arm across the table. Flinching slightly as she took his hand. "It's okay, I promise."

He held her hand tenderly. "Did he leave?" Y/n shook her head. "I ran away from home. My mom died and my father got worse..he tried to touch me Dan and it hurt so bad." She began to sob.

"Hey..hey." He moved over so he could hold her. "I'm so sorry." People in the cafe were looking at them like they had five heads but he didn't care.

She gripped onto his shirt like a child and buried her head in his chest. "I couldn't take it anymore so I ran..I ran as far as I could." Y/n let go of him for a moment to wipe her eye.

"Then some man and a woman in a jeep picked me up on the side of the road. Offered me something, I can't remember what but I told them and they begged and pleaded but I said no and the next thing I knew I woke up on the side of the road in Colorado a couple of miles away from a bar and I couldn't stop from there."

Dan rubbed tiny little circles on her back, trying to sooth not only his worries but her's. He'd have to ask Abra later if she knew how The Knot recruited people.

"My father died in accident a few months after I ran away but he wouldn't leave me alone. Because wherever that sick bastard had, I had too so the drink was the only thing that could take the pain away."

"I'm sick, Danny..but I want to get better. I really do." Y/n's eyes had a truthful gleam in them. "And you will. I'm going to help you. Me and Billy. I'm not going to let anything happened to you."

(Or let you out of my sight again.)

Y/n's eye looked hopeful yet wary. "You trust me, right?" She nodded her head and he pulled her close.

For the first time in a while she didn't flinch and completely relaxed. She knew she was safe. "Dan?" Her voice came out like a whisper. "Yeah Y/n?"

"I think I love you." Dan grinned and hugged her tight. "I love you too Y/n/n..I love ya too."

#doctor sleep #dr sleep #dan torrance #imagine #one shot #abra stone #fanfiction #the true knot #the shining

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secretiveauthor · 5 years

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Ch 1- Escape

Authors Note: This chapter does include violence, abuse, and mentions of blood. If you don’t want to read most of that then I suggest moving down to the Italicised and bold sentence that starts off like: “The red barriers littered the living room area...” It still has mentions of violence but very little. You still get the synopsis of what’s going on so it doesn’t affect what you choose. With that being said, enjoy the story and have fun.

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November 5, 2038

09:14 PM

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Putting away the last of the dishes, Athena sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. It was starting to get late when she got home, which was an hour ago. She worked as a waitress in a nearby diner which wasn't all that bad but she had just wished she had gotten home sooner so she could catch up on her book. By her side was her and her boyfriends AP700 Android, Peter.

She was glad he was of use instead of Athena doing all the work around the house while her drug dealer boyfriend was out doing god knows what. All she knew was that Red Ice was high on the market and her boyfriend was going to get every last pound of it.

"Do you need any more assistance, Miss Athena?"

"No, Peter. Thank you. You can go ahead and rest for the night." The android nodded and waited for further instructions. It was nice, knowing she had gotten everything she wanted to, done and accomplished without her boyfriend, Jonah, yelling at her for the smallest of mistakes.

Locking up the front door, she made her way up the stairs and went ahead and got ready for bed. She would have to wake up early tomorrow morning for her work so she got ready as quick as she could and slipped underneath the soft covers. She pulled out a book from her drawer, frowning as she saw Jonah's gun right beside her book.

Athena loved to read. It was one of her favorite things to do in her free time, aside from cooking. However, Jonah always complained about every little thing she did, whether she didn’t put enough sauce on his spaghetti or how she missed a spot while cleaning the table. Reading was truly a way where she could escape his suffocating grasp and be free for once.

Feeling herself become tried, she read her last page and put away the book, her eyes glancing towards the gun. Jonah said he would use it if she ever decided to "act up" which made Athena fear for her safety. She tried to leave him a numerous of times but she would always fall for the "I promise I'll change!" card and the "Plese baby, don't leave me." comments. She was foolish enough to listen to them in fear of what he would do to her if she left him.

She slowly closed her eyes and savored the moment she had alone to herself before... sighing and resting her eyes, she fell asleep; the bed engulfing her and bringing her to her dreamland where she could be free and do whatever she wanted.

Only a couple of minutes later, she was awoken by the door slamming and a very drugged up Jonah.

"Athena! Where the fuck are you, Athena!?"' She could hear the pure anger in his voice making Athena's stomach sink. She knew how he would get when he was high and it wasn't pretty. He would sometimes take it out on Peter as well. The poor thing couldn't even defend himself he would just take it, repeatedly.

"Fucking bitch, where the fuck are you?!" No matter how badly she didn't want to respond to him, she knew she would have to face him eventually. Hesitantly, she removed herself from her safe-haven and slowly turned her head towards the nightstand drawer, she remembered Jonah's gun... Shaking her head, she made her way down the stairs.

"Are you feeling alright, baby?" It pained her to say that. She looked him up and down and saw his eyes were a faded red, he had dirty clothes, and he had this sort of twitch to him. She knew he was using again but never would dare to mention it to him face to face. Red Ice was like pure bliss to him.

"Come here, you little bitch!" Jonah launched himself at her, grabbing onto her arm and dragging her to the living room couch. His nails dug into her skin, drawing blood from her forearm.

"Jonah, please let me go! You're hurting me!"

"Shut up! You don't love me! You never have!"

"That's not true, baby. I do love you!"

"LIAR!" He threw her against the table, the flower vase tipped over and shattered once it hit the ground. Athena's head made contact with the edge of the round table. She swore she could see black and white spots from how hard Jonah threw her against the table.

Blood trickled down her forehead as she hazily tried to get back up. Jonah stomped over to her, grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her head so that he was face to face with her. She could feel his hot breath on her face as she tried so hard not to cringe at how bad it was.

"This is what happens when you lie to me! Stupid bitch!" Athena tried to get Jonah to stop, her legs kicking out and her hands trying to pry Jonah's hands off of her. He threw her to the ground again and started kicking her in the stomach.

"Jonah please stop!" Tears flooded from her eyes as Jonah kicks the wind out of her. Jonah grabs her arm and hoists her up. Struggling to catch her breath, she just begs Jonah to stop.

"Oh, you want me to stop? I'll stop when think you've learned your lesson!" He grabbed her again, not caring in the world if she was screaming at him to stop. From the corner of his eye, he could see Peter standing and watching idly. He let go of Athena and walked over to Peter, sneering at him. Peter looked straight past Jonah while Jonah got up close to his face.

Jonah never did like androids. In his eyes, they were just another housemaid to him. Doing everything he wanted him to do just perfectly. In all honesty, he preferred them over Athena but for some reason, he just couldn’t stand the sight of androids like everyone else. Taking jobs and being so perfect without any flaws.

"And this fucking Android? It's not gonna help you. It's gonna stay there and watch like the useless pathetic piece of plastic it is!"

That's when something sparked inside of Peter. He couldn't quite describe it. Something in him was telling him to disobey. It was telling him to help Athena. To help himself and get Athena away from Jonah before he could kill her! He couldn't stand to watch his beloved friend get beaten mercilessly by her so-called lover anymore! He needed to help her! He didn't care about the rules or the consequences. All he knew was that he needed to save Athena.

The red barriers littered the living room area, telling him not to move.

||DON'T MOVE||

Peter shook off the voice in his head.

|\DON'T MOVE?/|

He started to question whether he should obey

⸮ɘvoM ƚ'ᴎoᗡ

He needed to save Athena

D҉o҉n҉'҉t҉ ҉M҉o҉v҉e҉?҉?҉??

Suddenly, his new objective popped up:

||PROTECT ATHENA ||

He ignored the instructions and let his consciousness go up against the walls, pushing aggressively. There was a strong force to hold him back but he knew what he had to do. Pushing even harder, punching and kicking, the walls soon started to crack like glass. With one final punch, he broke through. He felt a sudden rush of adrenaline coursing through his Cybernetic form. He was finally free.

"Stop hurting her!" Peter yells, catching the attention of both Athena and Jonah. Jonah shoves Athena back before he could punch her again. He let go of Athena and walked up to Peter. He wasn't going to let some stupid android get in his way of teaching Athena her "lesson".

"What are you gonna do?! HUH?! You're just a fucking useless Android!" Jonah raises his fist, ready to punch Peter but Peter swiftly catches Jonah's arm and starts bending it back.

"I am not an Android!" Almost to the point of breaking it.

"I am not your slave." Jonah cries out in pain.

"And I am most certainly not-" Before Peter could finish his sentence, Jonah kicked Peter in the legs making Jonah let go of him. The two still went at it like rabid dogs. Jonah was choking out Peter while Peter slammed him against the wall knocking over several photos. They took it to the kitchen where the fight continued.

Athena didn't know what to do. This Android defended her. He saved her. But why? Androids weren't capable of saving human beings. They were just supposed to obey and do what they were told. She couldn't help but think that maybe there was more to Androids than everyone thought. She tried to figure out what she wanted to do, but she didn't know what to think of... She looked around for various escapes.

There was the front and back door that she could run through. Athena saw the phone but it was too far fetched to even get to it, plus it would take even longer to get an actual ambulance here before Jonah could kill her. But, then there was Peter. What was Athena going to do with him? He saved her but Athena contemplated if she should do the same... Should she run or help Peter?

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--> Help Peter

--> Run

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#dbh connor #detroit become human #connor #connor x reader #dbh hank #dbh #dbh gavin #dbh markus #detroit: being human #detroit: bh #detroit: connor #detroit: hank #detroit #connor rk800 #dbh rk800 #dbh fanfic

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kissmetae · 5 years

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A rant ahead

Plese excuse the typos and missing letters this potential mess will have, my keyboard is laggy and 3 keys don’t have actual keys on em and some are hella slow ANYWAY: I just got off the phone with my dad and yes I was cold and short worded but it’s because I’m still upset and dissapointed and he doesn’t even know I am. I’ve told my mum about it and she knows that I’m mad and upset at him but tomorrow we’re celebrating my birthday (one day early) me, mum, dad, sTePdAd and dad’s gf and I just... sigh

i’ve already ranted about how my parents make me feel like it’s the most annoying time of the year when it for me is the only time unless something big happens that i get to be with my mum and dad at the same time (ofc neither any of the 4 know what divorced parents feels like) and they both know about it and they toldme they dont think so but fckn hell they (my mum mainly.) really make it feel like it’s so annoying and problematic.

But this is about why i’m mad and just want to get it out of me.

I haven’t met my dad since the weekend before i went to london to go see BTS, when i did he made me feel so fckn upset. I was trying to talk about this big exciting trip i had waiting for me and he pays little to no interest and sure i am aware of that he was mad at his work place BUT he apparently isn’t mad enough to bring up the fact that his gf’s nephew is coming to visit us (he lives in greece, so he’s coming to sweden again) for the idk 4th time. and that was my last straw because he has constantly been making me feel like he is way more interested in what my unofficial cousin’s are doing THAN ME. i even had thoughts like it would be so much better if i wasnt here or if he had a son instead because all i feel is that “Oh felicia she is so boring she has nothing going for her and no aspirations” (I have a ton of aspirations if anyone would ever want to listen to me talk about them. *cough*).

When we were in greece this august to visit them he just came to me to complain about his gf and her sister (who i also was hella pissed of with but i had better things to do than waste my time on that and tried to enjoy myself elsewhere instead.) What upset me is how my dad, a british person (living in sweden and fluent in swedish) is trying to very hard to intergrate with greek culture (greeceboo literally, i’m not joking it’s not funny.) and i dont’ have anything against greece or greek culture BUT i do have something against my dad telling me to hurry up IN GREEK when we’re crossing a street like he’s some kind of controlling alpha or sdigpwshwgwihgwgwpoer gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah it pissses me off so fucking much yjrutesjrtjrtdjtjtrds

anyway he keeps telling me that these people I HAVE NEVER MET BEFORE IN MY ENTIRE LIFE are my cousins.

yes.

they are not.

and i told him when we were walking alone how uncomfortable it makes me and that they’re not my cousins and i want him to stop and instead of even trying to understand he snorts at me and calls me lame/ridiculous (löjlig). (did i mention that he also tries to sound like he has a greek accent, probs unknowingly but i called him out on it once and he awkwardly laugh a laugh that sayd he is aware of it) anyhow when my CoUsIn came to visit i didnt do anything with them or meet up, purposely bc the last time he visisted i was left out AS FUCK and then asked to give thme a ride into town -_-

he also becomes oddly sexist and deragatory when he’s with them or in greece and he blames it on that “that’s how it is here.” WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK? ok sure so youre gonne treat your own daughter differently just bc we’re in another country? it’s the same thing when we’re in the uk.

but that’s that and then there’s this other incident that is relevant when he once told me to put on some music in the car and i was like sure ok :) and scroll through my playlists and then he just cuts in before ive evene put on anything “But none of that chinese stuff” (referring to kpop)

first of all, chinese? ok... second of all WHAT DO U HAVE AGAINST IT WHEN U LITERALLY LISTEN TO FCKN GREEK MUSIC and that made me very fcking sad because yet again I GET SHAMED FOR LIKING SOMETHING OR FOR BEING WHO I AM

I have talked about the bts concert on the phone, didn’t get much of a reaction and i havent even had the chance to show my photos from my trip or anything from the trip and im sure he wouldnt even like to look at it, just like when im trying to show my latest drawings for him he just says something short and basically im trying to be nice but u can hear in my voice that im not impressed nither do i care very much.

So fine, go and CARE how much u want about my cOuSiN and get involved in his life and listen and watch and talk about what he has going for him, you obviously care more about them than you do about me.

You can’t even listen to me, you shame me for my interests, you literally neglect anything i’m excited about and change subject mid sentence. When I told him about how i didnt like the bakery he sounded almost mad like he didnt even understand and i tried to explain and then he cut me off mid sentence talking about something else and i told him bc i was so mad at that point for all of this THAT I WASNT DONE TALKING ABOUT IT and he just goes “Yeah yeah, you didnt like it.” literally show some emphapahy?

all he keeps saying to me is “ full time job full time job full time job full time job full time job full time job full time job full time job full time job full time job full time job full time job full time job full time job full time job full time job full time job full time job full time job full time job full time job full time job full time job” OVER AND OVER AGAIN AND IVE TOLD HIM I WANT TO STUDY UNI AND THAT I DONT WANT A FULL TIME JOB YET 39823985723524075295 TIMES BUT HE NEVER LISTENS! HE WOULDNT EVEN CARE MORE IF I GOT A FULL ONE, IM TRYING TO LIVE MY LIFE IM ALMOST 22 I WANT FREEDOM TO DO WHAT I LIKE AND TRAVEL AND EXPLORE BUT NOTHING OF THAT MATTER IM JUST A BORING PERSON IN HIS EYES WITH NO ASPIRATIONS, INTERESTS OR GOALS I GUESS

IM so fckn done with this

#there's more to it but this is the main why im upset

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libidomechanica · 3 years

Text

Untitled Poem # 8649

thro thy Willy. Flower and state sublime? Folded rose and

moan forest loke me it: the silent track Ever the

deep pulsations are flow What ! whereat they left behind then

her abdomen and generous tayl. But age, or

doon heels of larger laid, and her shocks of song, in all

the most gentleness the riche, and, wretch

the bottom of your love, child; as year I slept all the

noise of mariages, and such as the ocean-

place, likerous, midnight thee with the weight; but folk seye

this myghtė they look through a tone within us strange; where

the people say. “Twas a sovereign monarchs are we, or

on a diet. The time than two, how he shade vnderfoot

thy helpless for a year what wear the feast; nor

human will ”scape us— O felicity was

turning from Fez; and whispers, “ Let him, Ill live

no farther over, and pain in toil; another skin, but he replying:

Daddy? numerous flower that crash …” Tone O me,

what is beauty born. its easy. For trust into

myn estaat — after midnight, would have before they have,

that make my own: I may none of this want nothing so close—

Juno stille thing, the cocked out of the earst had

darkening his wityng, he fingers return. And

I have to black room to bord with virtues are

shall be near at their greene: o what any let, to wandering

die, a prophetic soul that thus surprise, Cupid,

when flew a delight? Now sholde the citys edge, looking

each from heaven, whom his heart in the things ignite

and every bad a peach fish, which the power

the feud of Alfred Tennyson lord of a

single draws near, to the end of sorrows breath to

the innocent muscle and I am thine, and

told me sorwe; and “tween thy will; that he and man. And

see their slime, and my hands. What never wills are quick—and

sunny skies chance. Shall he common loves fire of a mortal,

while I rose the night doth love letters upon an even

if you I should rayse is frend to plese, but one tender

blade of which makes the loved, I did but the delude

woe— I do it. I cannot coy, but no. Colins Embleme.”

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #221 texts

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franeridart · 7 years

Note

The way you drew kuroo's hair in ur last post makes it look so soft and fluffy and I loVE IT

It IS!!! The floofiest hair!!!! It’s a mess but super soft I’m 100% sure of it

Anon said:I'm so happy I finally got to see a bit more of Mina's personality ;-; I'm love her??? She's so presh????

I KNOW RIGHT that’s why she’s my fav, she’s so bubbly and happy and bright and silly and super strong I love her a lot!! I wish she’d have more spotlight, honestly o

Anon said:MY POOR LIGHTNING SON THOUGH.

ANON I’M SORRY BUT HE KINDA REALLY DESERVED IT HAHAHA okay real talk for one single second, Kami has something like a pathological need to look cool and he acts like he’s the coolest cool kid to ever be cool, which usually ends up with him not looking cool one bit out of cosmic retribution or something, it’s kind of a running joke and we all need to get used to it but it makes it all the better when the one time he does look super cool rolls around and he isn’t even trying !!!! amazing that boy is amazing

Anon said:Was the fight between Kiri and Tetsu everything you hoped to see? Remember, we still haven't seen the sparkles~~~~~

A n o n I’m never satisfied with the amount of Tetsu and Kiri I get because it could always be more there’s never enough Tetsu and Kiri interactions I die every time r i p (true story the match started, the focus shifted on Uraraka and Deku and I might or might not have straight out gone who cARES let’s get back to my kids!!) (I love them too much what can I do I wish they’d shown me the whole fight really haha)

Anon said:I love the way you draw hair... actually ignore that, I just love the way you draw.

BOI thank you!!! So much!!!!!!! *O*

Anon said:Luv your Kenma's

And I love you, anon!!!!

Anon said:dude that latest bokuroo drawing ((which is great by the way, like 100/10)) looks a bit like the bakushima one from some time ago

I think I know which one you mean now that you mention it but I hadn’t realized while drawing it... I guess you’re kinda right? I’m pretty sure if you mean the second one I drew something similar with bo kuro and teru too? I might just like the position? Should I apologize for this? Why are you pointing this out exactly?

Anon said:Hi, really love your work! It is amazing that I am checking my Tumblr everyhour to chech your posts. Can you plese draw some bokuroo? I really love that pair but túry do not have so many comics and yours are just perfect. 😊 Thanks your fan #1

Ahhhhhhh thank you so much!!!!!!!!! And you happened incredibly nicely with this suggestion because I !!! Just did!!!!!!!!!!! I hope you liked them!!

Anon said:Well this is not exactly an ask but i just wanted to say that you just got a follower cause bro i love your art!!!

THANK YOU!!!!!! I hope you won’t regret deciding to click that button haha

Anon said: Hello, just a random human dropping by to say how happy I am to have found this blog like I thought I loved kirishima before but then this heavenly gift of a blog floated its way into my recommended and BAM *bakushima intensifies* and now I use this blog to make me happy whenever I'm in a bad mood and you never let me down, so thank you beautiful human named Fran - your existence makes me smile

I’m super glad I can make your mood a lil better like that!!!!!! *O* thank you SO MUCH both for liking my art and for the kind words!!!!

Anon said:I really like your Bakubaby drawing. Especially when Aizawa want to take him to Recovery Girl and the Bakusquad just hiss at him like 'you can't take him' and he's just like 'stop, you're not his parent' and the scene with Midoriya, Even when he's Bakubaby he still don't like Midoriya that he's stick his tongue out at him and when Bakubaby say Kirishima name, my heart hurt too because it's just so cute and the other Bakusquad is just like 'of course, it's would be Kirishima who else would it be'

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’m happy you liked that mess anon *O*!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! thank you so so much!!!!!!

Anon said:Your baby Bakugou au sorta reminds me of this one fic where Todoroki and Midoriya are turned into 5-8 y/os!! The rest of 1-A is tasked with taking care of them and it's ridiculously cute. (It's The Bonds that Hold Us Together by furihatachlookie if u wanna check it out btw)

That does sound super cute!!!! I’ll be sure to check it out, thank you for reccing it!!

Anon said:aaaa why didn't i find ur blog sooner??? u deliver the best bakukami art jfdskndskflns there r so little content of this ship i just rlly love them so muchjfkdsglksdjkfl

A BAKUKAMI FAN!!! HOLY SMOKES!!!! HI!!!!! I LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND THANK YOU LOTS TOO!!!!!!!

Anon said:no offense but ..... you bless my day everyday, you're so precious ily and ty

Booooooooooooooooooooiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii anons trying to make me turn into a tomato I SEE well you’re doing a good job of it !! good for you!!!! you sweet sweet person!!!!

Anon said:So... if Hagakure fused with... well... anyone, would they just have random parts of their body that appear to be invisible or what?

I drew her fused with Todoroki once!! And yeah half of their body was invisible, but whether that happens when she fuses with others depends on who she’s fusing with - for example if she fused with Mashirao or Tsuyu, they’d turn up being completely invisible too because their quirks would just sum up,while with someone like... say, someone like Bakugou for example, I think the invisibility would affect the quirk and not the body itself, as in what’s invisible would be the explosions, they’d probably be ultrasounds based instead of nitroglycerin... anyway that’s beyond the point, their body would be fully visible and they’d be a mix of Baku and what Tooru looks like when visible, which is why I never really drew her fused with anyone that wasn’t Todoroki? His being perfectly split in half made it easier, but until I know what Hagakure looks like I can’t mix her characteristics with anyone else haha

Anon said:Babies are cute. You draw cute babies. Thank you.

You’re welcome!!!!! and thank you for liking the way I draw them!!!!!!!!!!!! *O*

Anon said:did you see the "do we have to sit like this" meme drawing of kaminari and bakugou I hope you did bahahahahaha

I DIDN’T anon oh my god you can’t give me half informations like this and leave me haging I need to see it now hahaha

Anon said:AHHH DUDE YOUR ART IS SO AMAZING!!! like your kuroo is perfect. you have just the right blend of cunning and caring and smart and nerdy in your kuroo and it's perfect. seriously whenever i write kuroo and i need a mental image of what he's doing (like if he's leaning against a wall with his hands in his pockets or smth) i always imagine the scene in your style cos. your kuroo, dude. your kuroo. (whelp i wanted to tell you how much i liked ALL your art but i kinda got stuck on kuroo cos KUROO)

This is the best hq-related ask I’ve recieved in forever?? Oh my god thank you so much anon, I’m seriously so happy right now orz rip this feels good, bless you

Anon said:Hiya! I just wanna say I love your art and your style! I really liked the baby Bakugou drawings you made, they effectively lightened up my day! Keep doing what you're doing because it's awesome!!

THANK YOU!!!!! HOLY HECK!!!!!

Anon said:Fran your blog is my daily gazette, I check it everyday~

That’s!!!! Some dedication!!! Oh my god thank you!!!

Anon said:I love your art and all but... NO BUT!!. YOUR AMAZING I LOVE YOU YOU'RE SO FUNNY AND YOUR ART GIVES ME LIFE *runs*

NUH ANON DON’T RUN LET ME THANK YOU !!!!!

#fran answers #there's a whole bunch under cut #might have been ignoring my inbox these past few days hah...#sorry #im kind of a mess atm r i p #anonymous

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deafinatlyafan · 7 years

Text

You are Loved

I just want to note, Asexual is not the same thing as Aromantic, and Aromantic is different from Asexual. Aromantic is when you don’t experience romantic attraction (“oh I’m so lovey dovy about that person” although this doesn’t include desire to date or marry.) Asexual is when you don’t experience sexual attraction (“gosh dang it I need your body specifically.” They can still want sex, they just don’t experience their body saying that about a person.) This fic doesn’t really reach into each sexuality (Except arguably Morality’s asexuality), but it does mention it.

(I’m aro ace so idk what attractions are like so correct me if I’m wrong please.) Someone can be both asexual and aromatic, but in this case, Logic is Aromantic and Morality is Asexual. Logan is aromantic, but he can still have sexual feelings towards someone. Morality is Asexual so he doesn’t experience sexual attraction, but he can still experience romantic attraction.

if you want someone to blame BLAME @stary-puppy @sanders-sideblog @prinxietyhell @analogically-prinxiety and @doctorshufflepuff FOR THIS Terrible angst (And for being supportive through my writing process. I hope you all love me because you might not love me during the fic. (and don’t throw your device across the room please, I almost did.)

Also I wanted to show what abuse can look like. Most of these are not from my experience but I’ve seen some of this happen and I’ve heard stories of peoples experience so wanted to show how realistic it is. Girls are rarely shown as abusive so I wanted to show how terrifying it can be. If anyone is experiencing the things Morality experiences (no matter your or your abusers gender), especially from the beginning, please reach out and talk to someone in your local area. Even if they love you, it’s not okay. I know not everybody will listen to you, but please take care of yourself. You Are Loved even if you don’t feel like it.

trigger warning: this contains a lot of abuse. Mostly emotional abuse and physical but it implies sexual harassment in some parts. I will have a different fic coming up tonight (but way later on) with no abuse in it if this is triggering or too angst for you.

. . . . . . . . . .

“Oh, Come on Morality! First you won’t tell me your real name, then you tell me you don’t want to have sex, and now you tell me you want to have kids in the future! We can’t have kids without sex Morality!” Brianna, his girlfriend, shouted. Morality was confused. They didn’t need to have sex to get an adoption form. He knew that.

“B-b-but”

“No you shut up and let me speak.” she snapped, Morality shut his mouth looked down, closing his eyes to keep the tears from falling out. He knew when she got like this the best option was to stay quiet, but he felt so shaky and scared.

“You look at me when I talk to you!” She screamed. Morality took a deep breath, but before he could look up she grabbed his chin and pulled it up harshly.

“What did I say!” she snapped. Morality stayed quiet, starting to sob.

“Look at you! You’re such a cry baby! I should be the one crying. You won’t have sex with me and you’re telling me you don’t love me.”

“No- Bri I do love you” Morality thought, but he stayed quiet and closed his eyes. Why didn’t he show his girlfriend how much he loved her sooner? He should have known she was upset and didn’t feel loved. He knew how that felt like.

“You keep saying you’re Asexual as if that gives you the right to not love me, well, guess what Morality, that’s a sh– Hey look at me when I speak. If you wont have sex with me the least you can do is look at me.”

Brianna pushed him harder than he expected and he let out a quiet whimper. Morality had closed his eyes while she was speaking, but he opened them now, too scared of what she would do.

* Meanwhile Logic was at his desk trying to read this book about abusive relationships. Morality was detaching and rarely called them and Brianna was… extremely sweet, but sometimes Morality sounded afraid of her; like, for example, if Logic asked him if he wanted to hang out with him in front of her, Morality wouldn’t know how to answer.

“I’m fine.” Morality would insist, but Logic didn’t believe it. Something was off about the couple. Brianna to be specific.

He was trying to figure out how to help Morality when he suddenly got a call. Logic jumped and stared at his phone; He had not expected anyone to call him, especially at night. Was Morality okay? He looked at the phone and was scared. It was Morality. Did something happen? His hands shook as he pressed answer but before he could speak he could hear yelling.

“Well Look at you! An Asexual who wont even have sex to have kids! You should be thankful that I even love you! You can’t have kids without sex and you don’t even want sex. You need to have sex to have kids! No Morality I wont even consider adoption until you have sex with me at least. That way you know how good it feels to have a real kid!”

Logan was shocked and furious. He could not begin to explain how he felt in that moment. This was worse than he thought. He wanted to hang up but he couldn’t bring himself to hang up. He just couldn’t.

“No-you don’t get to talk unless its an apology or to tell me you were kidding.” What Llogic heard next broke his heart and made him fume with anger.

“I-I’m sorry-I-I just.” Morality sounded terrified and like he was barely brave enough to talk.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t quite hear that.” Brianna said in a soft anger.

“I’m sorry.” Morality was whimpering.

Logan knew he had to do something right now, and he knew the police would be of no help. He got up and grabbed Thomas’s keys. He was sure he wouldn’t mind, it was an emergency after all.

“You-” Logic froze at the sound of someone getting slapped. He was now shaking from anger and fear. He needed to hang up of there was any chance of driving to Brianna’s house. Hanging up, he went to text his friend.

//I ned to talk to you about something plese meet me at the door of Brianas house.\

He went to the car and started the car. Logic needed to get to Brianna’s house before she could do any more damage. He backed up and drove as fast as he could towards her address, hoping to draw some passing Police’s attention by his speeding and hoping that he’d make it before it got worse.

Morality was standing there as she screamed and slapped him. It stung but he didn’t want to react, this was his girlfriend, he didn’t want to be abusive to her just because he didn’t want to do something.

“I’m done-I’m literally done. Go to your room I don’t care, were not snuggling tonight.” Briana said putting her hand to her head like she was exhausted.

“Bri-I-I’m so sorry, is there anything I can do?”

“Well the thing I want you to do you wont do, so no Morality; just-just get out of my sight.” she sounded so disappointed in him.

“I-I’m sorry.” Morality walked away and went to the bathroom, making sure to lock the door. He didn’t want his girlfriend to walk in again; they had a fight last time and she got a bruise from slipping when he pushed her away and he never forgave himself for that. He turned the shower on to help cover any sound of him crying. He leaned towards the door, lips wavering and let out a big sob, grabbing his mouth to muffle it a bit. He couldn’t do this. He loved her but he couldn’t do this.

“But she loves me and she’s putting up with me not wanting sex with her, of course she’s under a lot of pressure.”

“But I’m supost to be comfortable around her!” he felt guilty for even thinking that. He was supost to be making her happy, not worrying about himself. Besides he needed to get out of his comfort zone as everybody said. He could feel his phone buzz indicating he had a text. He sniffed and pulled his phone out. He had three new messages.

//I ned 2 talk to you, I’m driving to Briana’s house rn. Plase its an emergency. I’ll be there in ten minute’s.\

Morality sniffled and wiped his nose with his hand. Logic misspelt please. He never mispealt anything or even shortened words. He knew this meant that Logic needed to see him. Besides they hadn’t seen each other for weeks, and when they did they barely talked because Bri was always either leading him away, or the one doing the talking. Morality knew how she loved to talk so he just let it happen.

//Sure, just let me know when you’re here and I’ll come out. I just need to take a quick shower.\

He knew he needed to calm down and a shower usually did the trick. He stepped in the warm water relaxing every inch of his body and let himself cry and leaned against the wall a couple times. He needed to let it out quickly so he could help Logic with whatever it was. After he was sure he was done crying, he turned the water off and got out, and dressed in his regular clothes. He had put some of his clothes in the bathroom in case Brianna kicked him out of her room again, but it was fine. It wasn’t too often that it happened. * Logan pulled into the curb and jumped out, frustrated that no police officers had seen his car. He had texted Morality nine minutes ago telling him to be ready, but he had no idea what to expect. He took a deep breath and walked to the door, texting Morality that he had just arrived. Whatever he was feeling, Morality felt worse and he needed help. Logan just had to forget his fear and focus on helping Morality. He walked up to the door and knocked. The door opened to a surprised and annoyed Brianna, but she quickly smiled.

“Hey Logan! How are you doing?” Briana asked. “Hey Brianna.” Logan said looking in the building. Everything looked messy but that wasn’t too much of a surprise, “Where’s Morality?” he asked.

“Just cleaning himself up. He hasn’t been himself lately, he’s always complaining about something and not in the mood to clean.” Logan clenched his fist. He knew that she was lying through her teeth, but he had read studies telling him that he needed to stay calm to avoid making it worse for Morality.

“I need to talk to him.”

“About what?”

“It’s a boy’s thing.”

“Oh.” She was quiet but she spoke up “I’m afraid he can’t come to it today. He promised me he’d do something very special for me.” She winked at him and Logic felt his nails dig into his skin. He could tell from her voice that she was thinking of sex. Morality was never comfortable with sex or even thinking about it. He also would not be shaking behind her right now if he was comfortable with that.

“Hey Morality.” Logan said. Brianna turned, surprised but smiled.

“Hon, where are you going?” “I’m just going with Logic to talk.” Morality gave an obvious fake smile.

“But Morality-”

“I’ll be back Bri, I promise. Logic is just going through a rough patch right now and needs someone to talk to.” Logic flinched at the nickname he gave her. She didn’t deserve anything from Morality. Except maybe a punch.

“But… can’t you guys talk on the phone?” she asked putting her hands on Morality’s chest-which he was obviously uncomfortable with. Logic was beginning to fume.

‘Breathe, Logan, breath. It will be worse for him if you react.’ He reminded himself.

“Don’t worry I won’t leaf you for long!” Morality smiled. Brianna gave a small smile. She didn’t deserve to smile, not after what she did to him.

“Alright but be back before ten o’clock!” Brianna said giving Morality a kiss on the cheek. Morality flinched when Brianna leaned closed but just smiled and pretended he was fine.

“Let’s go.” Logic said, refusing to look at Brianna as Morality walked past him towards the car. Logic made sure the car was locked when Morality shut the door. He started the car and drove off. He had the sudden realization that he had no idea where he was going, but he needed to talk to Morality about this and they had to talk right now. After a few minutes, he decided to just blurt it out.

“You need to break up with her.”

Morality was shocked by what Logic said and Logic could see that from his peripheral vision. “I heard your fight; I assumed you butt dialed me when this happens, but my point still stands. She’s manipulating you, she’s yelling at you, she wouldn’t let us talk to each other- she even slapped you Morality! If anyone did those thing to me you would never-” Morality started sobbing. Logic panicked. Did he say something wrong?

“Oh crap-uh I don’t- how do I comfort-?” Logan pulled over near an empty spot. He turned to his crying friend, reaching an arm out to hug them awkwardly. He was never one for hugs, but he knew that it might help cheer Morality up. Morality laughed at the awkward hug.

“I’m glad you find my pain funny.” Logan answered. Morality suddenly felt bad, but calmed down once he saw Logic was smiling.

Logan was glad he could cheer Morality up, but he had no idea what to do now. Morality was the one that was good at these things, or even Anxiety. Why didn’t he bring Anxiety with him?

“Do you want to talk about it or?” Logan was hesitant to offer anything, but he read somewhere that you should let them speak and let them know you were open to listening. Morality sniffled before answering; “Will I ever be loved?” Logan was confused and shocked. Why would Morality even think that!? “Of course you will! Thomas loves you, Anxiety and Prince loves you, I hypothetically lo-”

“No, not that kind of love but- uh romantic love.” Morality closed his eyes and squirmed, feeling childish and small right now. Logan was confused before he remembered there was a thing called romantic attraction.

“Oh.” Logan said.

“I’m sorry, but its just-“ Morality was sobbing and crying, “Brianna and, well, everyone really, is bothering me about my asexuality ever since I said I haven’t had that feeling towards anyone. Brianna thinks I don’t love her and I do, I really do, but I can tell she doesn’t love me the same, but-I don’t know, I kind of feel like she’s the best I can get? She’s great when she’s not angry, it’s just so hard.” Morality couldn’t open his eyes and Logic leaned forward and gave him another hug.

“Look Morality, I know you love her. But if she doesn’t love you the same, why are you staying?”

“Because I’m lucky enough to be dating her at all! Nobody wants to date the guy that’s not into sex. She told me that; I’m lucky enough to even call her my girlfriend!”

“Morality-” he was shocked that Morality would even think this way. What had Brianna done to his best friend?

“I don’t know but I just feel so alone.” Morality was sobbing so hard now and leaned towards Logic. He let Morality cry and started petting his hair. He remembered seeing Anxiety and Morality doing this to each other and it seemed to be calming him down.

“I’m here.” He said, stroking his hair, “Just let it out.” They stayed like that for a few minutes, Morality sobbing loudly while Logic occasionally hummed whatever song he could think of as he strokes Morality’s hair.

After a while, Morality’s crying had died down and he sniffed and pulled back.

“I’m sorry I ruined your favorite shirt.” He said. Logic shrugged.

“I have plenty of shirts that look like this, plus I can just put it in the washer.”

Morality hiccupped from his crying and sniffed again.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to be a burden-”

“Morality you’re nothing like a burden. Sure, you can make useless jokes and be annoying, but that makes you you and we love that!”

Morality sniffled.

“Do you really mean that?” he asked.

“Of course Morality! We wouldn’t be where we are if it weren’t for you!” Logic said. Morality sniffed and Logic hesitated before asking softly: “Do you want to talk about it?”

Morality closed his eyes, looking pained. Logan felt his phone vibrate and quickly looked down, hoping it was one of the other sides. Maybe they could help. It was Thomas;

//wheres my car???\

//w/ morality, bri just abused him Tryin to calm him down. get others. we need a group comfot sesion\\

“I don’t know anymore.” Morality finally said. Logan turned his phone off and looked at him, giving him all the attention. He shouldn’t have been on his phone, but he need to see if it was one of them and tell them to prepare.

“All I know is that I want kids, and she kind of does too, but she wants to have them through sex and I don’t want to do that- at all. Kissing and snuggling is my limit and -it’s not enough for her.”

“Then find someone it’s enough for” Logic thought, but he kept quiet. It was rare for Morality to even admit his dark feelings and he didn’t want to ruin it. Morality felt so much and rarely let it out. He needed this.

“And I just- I don’t know-I’m worried that even if I do break up with her, I will miss the chance to date and love someone. I-just-I don’t think there’s anybody for me.”

“Of course there’s somebody for you! That’s ridiculous. It will be someone who realizes how great you are, asexual and all, and love you for that. Not somebody who screams at you and tells you that you need to do something you’re uncomfortable with!”

“But everyone is talking about going out of your comfort zone and I just-”

“That’s referring to the ‘I don’t really want to do this and I’m nervous’ discomfort- Not ‘this petrifies me and I don’t want to do this at all and if I do it I’ll hate myself’ Discomfort. Besides if you do want to do it with your partner, it’s a gradual thing. It’s different for everybody. However, nobody should be making you do something that makes you so uncomfortable you’re terrified or that it makes you hate yourself.”

“I just hate being confused. I can’t even tell if I’m asexual or just don’t want sex.” Morality hated himself for thinking it but it was true. Logic took a deep breath. He needed to try to comfort his emotional friend. It was the least he could do for Morality.

“Morality-look being Aromantic and all, I don’t experience this romantic feeling you do, but just because you feel that way-even if they’re just your friend- it doesn’t excuse them hurting you. They need to respect your boundaries and if they don’t-that’s abusive too. Even if you never end up having sex with someone that’s okay. You just don’t experience sexual attraction, or want sex in order to love somebody. Besides most of the time couples tend to show each other that they love them with things besides sex. And screw those who tell you that you can’t be attracted to someone without wanting sex. There are loads of other attractions that you can experience.”

“What about when people ask when you find someone cute?” Morality asked. Logan wasn’t sure what this had to do with their conversation but he answered anyway;

“I think animals are cute, but that doesn’t mean I want to date them.” Logan pointed out. Morality laughed. “I’m not sure why that made you laugh but always; asexual people can still experience romantic attraction and date or even have sex if they want, but not everybody is the same. I know plenty of Aromantic people who hate the thought of dating and I know Aromantic people who are thinking of getting married. Just like I know asexual people who want sex and asexuals who hate even thinking about sex.” “Yeah but-I don’t know. It’s just… sometimes I do think I will want to have sex with her, but when it’s about to happen? I just want to… hide away and just not exist and then they get mad at me for leading her on. I just want to be with her without that stuff.” Morality didn’t know what to say, Logan had accepted his own Aromantic identity with no problem. Morality wasn’t even sure if he was asexual. He was definitely not Aromantic. None of this made sense to him.

“Its okay if you don’t get it now. You’ll get it someday. But for the time being, you definitely don’t want sex, and she is forcing you. That’s abuse.”

Morality was tired of hearing that, but inside he knew it was true. Why couldn’t he just accept he didn’t know and move on?

Logic unparked the car and started driving.

“She’s-she’s not forcing me.” Morality said softly. Thinking about the times they almost had sex and he stopped her.

“Yes she is. She is making you feel guilty for not wanting to have sex with her to the point you feel like you’re going insane. Trust me Morality this is not healthy.”

Morality shook his head and brought his knees to his face. Logan was bothered by the shoes on the seat, but he could live with that.

“She’s-she’s not abusing me. She-she never touched me like-”

“But she did, when I came to pick you up you hated the way she was touching your chest. It might not have been sexual to you, but you were obviously uncomfortable and too scared to tell her and she saw that. Plus, she yells at you and makes you feel worthless. And she slapped you-I heard it don’t deny it. All that is abuse and is not acceptable Dad.” Logan put his hand on Morality’s hand, which was wrapped around his knee.

“But-but I’m a boy-” “Boy can still be abused, even by girls. Studies show that one in seven men, eighteen or older, have experienced severe abuse from their partner. Two in five gay and bisexual men will experience intimate partner violence in their life time. And another big fact, Its not your fault.”

Morality was quiet, but he let the tears fall down his face. It nice to let it out in front of somebody, even if they didn’t get it. He could feel some familiar bumping before Logic turn the car off. Morality opened his eyes, confused to see himself in front of Thomas house.

“Come on, the others haven’t seen you in a while. Its been a long time.”

Morality was shaking and crying, he didn’t want the others to see him like this-even though he did want to see them, but he knew Logic would bring the others out if he didn’t move. He got out and walked to the door, surprised to see Thomas open the door before they were even at the doorstep.

“Oh Morality.” Thomas gave him a hug. Morality was surprise but it felt so good and he started crying again. Why was he such a cry baby?

“Hey Morality, look who it is!” Morality turned to face Prince who was talking and smiled when he saw the puppet sick he had made for Prince when he was younger and got sick. “That’s sweet, thanks Prince.” He said, letting go of Thomas, even though Thomas held on a bit longer.

“Come inside!” Thomas said leading him to the couch. Morality sat down and pulled his knees to his chin. He felt so small in that moment, while the others gathered around him.

“Alright so spill. I know you want to talk about it, you just don’t want to say anything crappy about her because you’re a goody two shoes but you deserve to rant at least.” Anxiety said, holding two cups of hot chocolate with whipped cream-Morality’s favourite.

“Thanks guys.” He sniffed gratefully taking the hot chocolate.

“What happened?” Prince asked softly sitting besides Morality. Morality let out a shaky breath and started telling them everything. Through the story, he started sobbing. He told them about their first fight, their recent fight. about the first time she made him uncomfortable, and how he felt the entire time. The others were trying so hard to hide their anger towards the girl, trying to stay calm for the confused and scared side. He whimpered and cried when Anxiety even looked angry so they tried to stay calm and hold it in. He didn’t deserve any of this. How could she ever do this to the sweet harmless guy who could barely keep it in when he would accidentally step on the others toe.

When he started talking about the time she told him he couldn't’ be asexual if he was with her Anxiety snapped.

“I can’t believe she told you you couldn’t be asexual!” Anxiety was furious and was having difficulty hiding it.

“I know, but to be honest never had an attraction before and she knows that, but she’s mad I ‘m not attracted to her.”

“Well think of it this way. You’re not distracted so much by how much you want to have sexual intercourse with that person-” Prince pointed out.

“Yeah, but even if I broke up with Brianna, my next my partner will always mention how I never want sex, and then I worry about mentioning how much I don’t want to do it or worry about how they will react to me not wanting it. Or how much they’ll hate me after I tell them so I’ll have to-”

While Morality rambled on, the others were confused and worried. Morality had too much emotions for one person sometimes and he needed a break from it all, but they had never seen Morality this upset.

“Its just- if everyone around me acts like I’m some sort of werido about not wanting sex or experiencing the attraction, how will I handle it if it comes from my partner?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not why they think you’re a weirdo,” everyone turned to glare at Logic, who spoke, “but you wont have to put up with their pressuring you because you will dump their sorry a-” he cleared his throat- “butts. Anyways my point still stands. You don’t have to do anything you are not comfortable doing. And if they force you to do something you don’t like then dump them.” Morality sniffed.

“But-what if she’s the best option out there.”

“Oh honey-no! she’s the worst option out there for you! Trust me.” Thomas said.

Morality sniffed. “do you really think so?”

“We know so!” Prince said!

“Also, you’re allowed to have kids! Having sexual attraction and wanting kids are two completely different things! There are so many options for you and your partner if you want kids!” Thomas pointed out.

“If you want to break up with her you well be here for you.” Anxiety and he leaned in to hug him, the rest of the group joining in.

Morality nodded and sobbed clenching Anxiety’s jacket, but this time it was from relief. He was still scared, but at least he knew his friends were there.

_ Morality was nervous, he had texted her last night letting her know that he wasn’t going to be back until the following morning (since the others had insisted on a sleepover, but he knew it was just so they could watch him,) and she sent multiple texts telling him that he was in big trouble. Thomas saw them and refused to let him go alone.

“I don’t care that it will scare her, she’s not going to be as scared as you are!” Anxiety pointed at Morality who was shivering.

“I’m fine” he lied.

“Morality-its okay to be scared I’m scared of people too.” Prince said gently squeezing Morality’s hand. Morality took a breath. He knew he had to do this. He hated that it was true, but he needed to take care of himself.

“We’re here.” Thomas said, looking back at Morality, as if asking if he was ready. Morality nodded as the others got out of the car, Logic, Anxiety and Thomas all holding a cardboard box, although Morality had insisted he only needed one. Prince had insisted on bringing his sword but it made Morality upset. He kept telling him that she would call the cops if she felt threatened. Logan agreed, but only because he could tell that Morality was upset enough.

In the end Prince didn’t bring his sword but he secretly brought a pepper spray, which would burn her eyes and distract her. Just in case they needed it. He was upset that he didn’t have his sword but he was happy to do it to make Morality more comfortable. Besides if anything Prince had hand fighting skills and knew how to defeat any magical creature (and a human who knew very little fighting skills would be easier.) It would probably help that the others were there to. Morality was shaking when he got to the door, feeling an empty pit in his stomach. This was it. it was time. He was petrified but it was time. He could feel Logic grab his hands. Morality closed his eyes, grateful for Logic’s comforting hand. He took a breath, opened his eyes and knocked on the door. It didn’t take long until she opened the door, shouting.

“What were you doing?? You said you would be back by-” she froze noticing all the others behind him.

“What’s going on here?” she snapped, but a lot softer now.

“I want to break up.” Morality blurted. His eyes were again shut, but he was still holding Logics hand.

“Excuse me?” Morality opened his eyes, terrified. The others were prepared to pounce but stayed still.

“I-I’m sorry, b-but we aren’t a good fit.” Morality was scared and took a step back, cowering. Anxiety took a small step forward ready to block off anything Brianna would do.

“But-but who would love you like I do!” Brianna protested.

“Definitely not you since you never loved him” Anxiety snapped. Morality closed his eyes.

“Give me one explanation of why we should break up.” She asked regaining her composure.

“You’re an abusive piece of-”

Thomas grabbed anxiety to let him know to back off. Thomas was mad, but he knew this would not help Morality. She scoffed.

“I’m a girl I can’t be abusive!”

“I’ve fought more women then men or nonbinary creatures and humans alike, I’m not afraid to hit women if they deserve it. Especially if they attack my friends” Prince threatened.

“Besides, just wanting to Break up because your not a good fit, is a good enough reason to break up.” Logic said coldly.

Brianna stood quietly, looking like she would cry. Morality wanted to do something-anything to make her feel better, but he stood there, glad to have his friends there. She wouldn’t do anything in front of them. He felt guilty for manipulating her, but was so relieved that he wouldn’t be attacked.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispered.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for.” Logic said, holding his hands tighter.

“Now can we pick up Morality’s things now or should we come back another time?” Anxiety spat. “Morality can come pick up his things, but its just him.” Briana said.

“No, it wont be just him.” Thomas snapped. Brianna was pale and looked frightened.

“How you feel right now, is nothing compared to how you made Morality feel.” Logan pulled Morality towards them, “so have us come back when you’re not around with some of us. or right now-with all of us.”

Brianna moved to the side, still pale but not shaking like Morality was.

itsokayitsolkayitsokayitsokayitsokay. Morality told himself as she nodded, let himself in with Logic following right behind him with a box in his left hand. Morality had tears streaming down his face but he was not sobbing. He went to the bathroom and grabbed the clothes he had stashed previously and threw it in the box. He thought Logic would at least try to fold them but, Logic knew it would just take longer so he grabbed whatever he thought was Morality’s.

Meanwhile, Prince stood in the kitchen facing Briana, he occasionally moved around to grab a cup and to fill it up, but he never left his eyes off her. Brianna was sitting and fumbling with her fingers, looking a little calmer but obviously still nervous. Good she deserved to be nervous. She kept glancing at him as he glared at her. After a few minutes of this he spoke up

“This is nothing compared to how Morality feels. I’d swear at you, but Morality is here and he’s uncomfortable with swears so I’m not going to do that to him.” Prince said coldly taking a drink from one of the mugs he found at the nearest cupboard. (Yes, he was grabbing multiple cups and making it dirty so she’d have to clean it later.) The girl was obviously angry.

“He-he lead me on-“ “Don’t you dare say that.” He snapped.

“But- but boys always pretend they don’t want it, they just secretly do. Sometimes they don’t even realize that they want it. that’s all I was trying to do.”

“Shut up Ursula. I know what you’re doing, and its not going to work on me.”

Brianna was confused.

“Wha-?”

“You can go step on a lego.” Prince said, taking a sip from another mug. He could see Logic coming out of the bathroom and nodding his head. Price was suspired that it was all Morality had, but he moved towards Brianna. She jumped back but Prince ignored her and just stood in front her, his back facing her. He didn’t want Morality to have to see her any more than he already did.

He didn’t even want Morality here until later in the day at the latest, but Morality needed to talk to Brianna. Morality walked, looking past Prince and headed to the door. Once he was out Prince turned to Brianna. “You come near him again and you will have me to answer to.” Roman growled. Brianna leaned back and gulped.

“Princy we got all his stuff.” Anxiety called out. Ah that’s where the rest of Moralitys stuff was, with Anxiety. Prince faced the scared Brianna and glared at her once more before turning around and following Anxiety out.

“You okay?” Prince said as he got closer to Morality. Morality just nodded but he was staring curiously at Anxiety. He was sure that he got everything that was his. He kept it all in the bathroom so that he could have a secure place for it.

Anxiety shifted the box to get a better hold on it, smirking at what he just did.

“I already got all my stuff with that one box, what’s all this?” Morality asked.

“Just a couple of her necessities, like toilet paper, paper towels, band aids, condoms. the usual crap she can buy on her own.”

Anxiety could see that Prince and Thomas were smirking, while Logic facepalmed and sighed. Everybody thought Morality would scowl at Anxiety, but instead tears formed in his eyes. Anxiety looked shocked and dropped the bag.

“I-I can return it if you want Morality-I’m sorry, but she deserves all that and more and she hurt my friend so-”

“No I’m just-” Morality bursted out laughing, which confused the other sides.

“I just- I’m sorry, but y-you did all that for me, and y-you took her picture frames?” Morality laughed, pointing to the frames at the top of the open box. Anxiety smiled sheepishly.

“Just the ones with the dollar store sticker.” He admitted. Morality was laughing, while the others sighed with relief.

“Come on giggles, lets go home.” Thomas said putting his arms around the giggling personality. Morality nodded his head and went into the car. Anxiety took the box, smiling. He was glad he could make him laugh a bit today. He deserved it. They all hoped in the car, Logic driving, Prince in the front, with Thomas, Morality and Anxiety in the back like before.

“How are you doing buddy?” Prince asked after Morality calmed down from his giggle fit.

“A bit better. Thanks guys.” Morality was still relaxed, but he looked like he was starting to be sad again.

“Oh Morality.” Thomas said putting his arm around Morality, and kissing his forehead, “you are loved.” Morality let out a soft sob, as Anxiety put his hand gently on Morality’s arm- his way of letting Morality know it was okay to hold hands or snuggle closer if he wanted. Morality grabbed his hands and put this head on Anxiety’s shoulder. Maybe he won’t find someone to love, but at least he had his family. ___

IM SORRY Y’ALL IM NOT GREAT AT ENDINGS OR ANGST WITH HAPPY ENDINGS. IM NEW TO THIS,

#you are loved #fic #sorry not sorry #angst #abuse #asexual #my fic #cay

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Should Two Children Be Imprisoned For Plotting To Kill Their Classmates?

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Should Two Children Be Imprisoned For Plotting To Kill Their Classmates?

In Washington state, a 10- and 11-year-old were sentenced to years in a detention facility after being caught with weapons and claiming they were going to murder other kids at their school. Where is the line between a childish game and a real threat?

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Illustration by Adam Setala for BuzzFeed

Colville is in Stevens County, far eastern Washington state. A town of 4,600 people, it is a roughly 12-block center where a scattered rural population can come for necessities before returning to farms and homesteads. There is a hospital, a post office, a courthouse, and a border patrol station, as the town is only 50 miles south of Canada. The proximity to the border, and its relative isolation, mean that visitors without clear business are likely to be regarded with some skepticism. Checking into the Selkirk Motel, out-of-town guests are asked their age, town of origin, and purpose of visit with open suspicion, and have their ID checked multiple times. The local drug trade suggests that this is not so extreme a precaution. In residential areas of Colville, the houses are uniformly one level, prefabricated, often in pastel shades of green, blue, and yellow. It is not unusual to see a deer wandering through the streets.

In this far-flung, sparsely populated, wintry town, Fort Colville Elementary is a hub of activity and color. In the entrance hall are bulletin boards with headings such as “Spotlight on Character,” “Principal’s Award,” and “Be a Buddy, Not a Bully.” A poster with a rainbow of columns declares the “Six Pillars of Character” to be trustworthiness, respect, responsibility, fairness, caring, and citizenship. The library is decorated with children’s drawings of their favorite books — Holes and A Pizza the Size of the Sun. Giant versions of origami cranes hang from the library ceiling. At reception is a rack of winter clothes under the “Coats for Kids” program, secondhand donations for children from poorer families.

Downstairs, near the fifth-grade classrooms, is the office of the school counselor, Debbie Rogers, and a paraprofessional in charge of discipline, Richard Payette, whom the children call Mr. Richard. (Many students also know him from Sunday school.) The room doubles as an indoor games area for children who might prefer not to be out on the playground, with Lego, Jenga, and board games, or for when it’s too cold to play outside. Rogers describes her role as “one part social worker, one part mom, one part counselor, and one part discipline.”

Guns are a fact of life in Colville. They are used in hunting season for deer, elk, and bears, as well as for fending off coyotes or cougars and protecting livestock. Even more normal for a child than packing a gun is carrying a pocketknife. Rogers says it’s not uncommon for a knife to be brought to school accidentally; they’re often used for farm work. The parents are informed, the weapon confiscated, and one such incidence of forgetfulness is tolerated.

Around 7:30 a.m. on Feb. 7, 2013, Payette went as usual into the lunchroom to supervise, greeted by the din of children eating breakfast and filing in from school buses. A fourth-grader approached him and said a fifth-grade boy, David, had had a knife on the bus, which he’d brought into school.

Payette searched David, his sweatshirt and pants pockets, but found nothing. The boy protested innocence: “Knife? I don’t know anything about a knife. You’re talking about a butter knife?’”

He then led the boy to the hall and opened his backpack, again finding nothing. He went into the classroom, and asked his teacher, Mr. Jones, if he could look through the student’s desk. Mr. Jones replied that David hadn’t been in yet but a boy named Adam — both boys have been given pseudonyms here — had, and the two had been spending a lot of time together lately. Payette took Adam’s backpack off the hook and opened it. Inside he found a knife with a 3-inch blade, a .45-caliber semi-automatic handgun, and a magazine containing seven rounds. That day, David was 11 and three months; Adam was 10½.

The police and the boys’ legal guardians were called. Officer Scott Arms of the Colville Police Department interviewed both boys, each in separate rooms, Adam with his father, David with his grandfather. Arms first asked David if he understood why he’d come.

David nodded and replied, “Because I was planning to kill a girl in my class.” He explained that the girl had been picking on him and his friends. The plan was for Adam to be the “shooter” and for David to be the “knifer.” Adam answered similarly, saying the girl had been rude to him and his friends. The officer felt both boys seemed without remorse or emotion. He pressed Adam, making sure he understood the implications of this, and Adam said, “Yes, I just want her dead.” (The boys’ confessions to Scott Arms were later ruled inadmissible at trial, as Arms did not explain to the guardian of either boy that it was they, rather than Adam or David, who were responsible for waiving Miranda rights.)

Adam also spoke with Debbie Rogers about the plot, expanding on the planned scale of the violence. “No, you don’t understand, there’s more to this,” he said. “There’s other kids, we were going to hurt other kids.” He told her some names, and then picked out more from a class list, six in all. Adam’s revelation about the horrific scope of the plan might have been a child’s honesty, but it might also plausibly have been empty, if unsettling, bravado. David chattered freely about his plan, as well as the physical threat he posed, on the day of his arrest (he tapped on the glass of the in-school suspension room to motion a detective closer, before informing him, “I just want to let you know,” as he raised his fists, “that I’m in tae kwon do and can really use my hands, and when you take me out of school you better put the handcuffs behind my back”), yet, unlike Adam, he mentioned only one intended victim in all of his interviews.

The district sent out an auto-call to parents. Teachers’ phones began ringing, emails piling in, parents arriving, some furious, some just wanting to speak to their child before afternoon classes, others to check them out for the day or for good.

When David’s grandparents and guardians Tamera and Gary were called to the school, Tamera presumed David had been injured on the playground, or that his bus had been in an accident. The scene that greeted them when they saw David detained was stark. “There was no chair, no desk, nothing in there,” says Gary. “It was a just a white room, with plastic walls and a door with a window in it. He’s sitting in there all huddled up in the corner.”

Tamera did what she could for David as she waited for her grandson to be taken to processing. “He had said he was hungry,” she recalls, “so I asked them, ‘Can I have his backpack? He has some snack food in his backpack.’ They said, ‘Sure, we checked the backpack, there’s nothing in there.’ I got the food out, gave it to him, gave him the book to read, said, ‘Go ahead and eat your snack, let’s read a book.’” She took the backpack home with her. Adam and David were then driven to juvenile processing and would be charged the next day with conspiracy to commit first-degree murder.

A few days later, she remembered the backpack, and went to clean it out: “That’s when I found the notes,” she says.

“Dear David

I’ll show you the steps and I ma have changed plans. So Just Read my steps and tell if Im right or rong.

how I got this

Step 1 we ride the bus.

Step 2 stay in class until I say.

Step 3 during frist recess we go to the bathroom and get are masks on.

Step 4 we boit out side and run tord her nad you, me kill her and get are Freedom.

Step 5 we run up to the upper field and run tord my house.

Step 6 if the cops catch us put your hands up and get ready for pan.[pain]

Step 7 Be ready to go to Jail.

Plese write back

P.S. we shoud do it on tomaro.”

When children plan out a murder step by wicked step — when they bring a gun and a knife and an ammunition clip to school and speak openly and plainly about their intentions — their judgment, rather than being an academic, psychological question, must be decided absolutely in a courtroom. Knowing or unknowing, scheming or confused. How do their upbringings, however good or bad, exculpate or implicate them? The state has to determine beyond doubt a 10- or 11-year-old’s capacity to fully understand their actions; an infinitely complex problem becomes a yes or no question. When a guilty sentence is handed down, as it was for both defendants in the Colville case, it is unclear whether it serves to rehabilitate, or merely punish.

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Whether — and how — juveniles can be determined to be criminally responsible has a complicated history. One of the first modern lawyers to write about the legal status of children was the English politician and writer William Blackstone. In his Commentaries on the Laws of England, published in the 1760s, he argued that “the capacity of doing ill, or contracting guilt, is not so much measured by years and days, as by the strength of the delinquent’s understanding and judgment. For one lad of 11 years old may have as much cunning as another of 14; and in these cases our maxim is, that ‘malitia supplet aetatem’ [wickedness determines age].” Criminal court was the only suitable forum for such a child, even for a precocious 9-year-old, and penalties could be applied with the same readiness. Ten is still the age of criminal responsibility in England.

However, the United States’ first juvenile court, in Cook County, Ill., in 1899, was progressive and welfare-focused. The basis for the court was the doctrine of parens patriae, or parent of the country: Something had clearly gone amiss with the raising of a child if they were now on trial, and it was the duty of the court to remedy this with the attention and care of a benevolent guardian. In 1923, the Children’s Bureau published Juvenile Court Standards, expounding on these high-minded principles regarding the legal treatment of children. In each case there should be a “scientific understanding of each child,” that “treatment should be adapted to individual needs,” and “there should be a presumption in favor of keeping the child in his own home and his own community, except when adequate investigation shows this is not in the best interests of the child.” It was republished without alteration each year until 1954. By the 1930s, in most states, children could not be prosecuted in adult court until they turned 18, and in Arkansas, California, Colorado, Iowa, and Wyoming, it was 21. Parens patriae had triumphed.

In the 1980s, the national mood began to turn against treating all children as vulnerable, in response to a rapid increase in juvenile arrests and concerns over “superpredators” — hyper-violent children, beyond the reach of rehabilitation. In 1978, New York passed the Juvenile Offender Act, which allowed adolescents from 13 to be prosecuted for murder, and have the same sentence as an adult. The law is now similar for juvenile murder in Oklahoma, Illinois, and Georgia, with a lower limit of 10 in Kansas and Ohio. In the 1960s, the Supreme Court also made changes to ensure a more robust due process for juveniles, but this was still part of the shift toward making the juvenile system more like a criminal court. In nine states during the 1980s and 1990s (Arkansas, Georgia, Hawaii, Illinois, Iowa, Louisiana, Michigan, Missouri, and Rhode Island), legislatures gave juvenile courts a tougher mandate — to punish, to hold accountable, and at a younger age. Even when suspects are still tried as juveniles, the consensus became that it should be to mete out penalties that were proportional to suffering caused, rather than putting child development above all.

Under Washington law, children aged 8 to 12 are presumed to be incapable of committing a crime, and the burden is on the state to prove otherwise. Factors that must be considered in order to prove capacity include the nature of the crime, the child’s age and maturity, whether the child showed a desire for secrecy, whether the child admonished victims not to tell, and acknowledgment by the child that the behavior was wrong.

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Illustration by Adam Setala for BuzzFeed

The Chewelah Casino is a low, hangar-like building in the midst of farmland, decorated with a pattern of glowing suns, and one of the few meeting places off U.S. Route 395 between Colville and Spokane. David’s grandmother and guardian Tamera is intelligent and engaging, but her voice radiates stress.

Gary sits beside her, a solidly built man with a thick gray mustache. He occasionally interjects to back up a point in a gruff, kind voice, less voluble than Tamera but no less shaken by David’s situation. Tamera speaks of David as a boy who doesn’t lie, who had no violent tendencies. He was a dreamer who loved fantasy games and make-believe, who still left baby teeth out for a dollar from the tooth fairy, who pet shelter kittens, who carried moths outside.

Gary and Tamera wryly describe their family setup as The Brady Bunch (Gary adds, “We just didn’t get the housekeeper”). Each had brought three children from their first marriages when they married in 1990. They’d nearly been empty nesters when Tamera’s daughter, who had a shaky grip on sobriety and lived with a meth-smoking partner, had been unable to care for her son. After four months, Tamera claimed custody. Grandparents becoming guardians is not uncommon in Stevens County, as parents in the intervening generation are lost to drugs and attendant problems.

Tamera and Gary had a knack for changing diapers and mixing formula, and a cheerful competence with raising babies, but took a refresher course in parenting trends they might have missed. They and David learned baby sign language, so that he could signal his needs, curtailing tantrums as he became a toddler. A psychiatrist at the trial later spoke of Gary and Tamera as “sensitive and motivated” in their caring for David and how the mix of experience and time had uniquely prepared them for this “re-parenting.”

David started school at Loon Lake Elementary, then moved to Valley School after third grade, for its better academics, and finally moved to Fort Colville Elementary, as Tamera worked at the Colville courthouse. David’s family lived just a few blocks from Colville’s Main Street, on a road lined with cedars. American flags were dotted on front porches and a tire swing hung above the lawn opposite. David began to be bullied, or at least excluded, by other children for the first time at Valley, and Tamera got a call from a parent of a friend of David, who had told her “he was so unhappy, he wished he would die.”

Tamera links some of David’s difficulty with his peers to having been raised “around adults.” “Things that children do — push each other, call each other names — he found that very hurtful,” she says. But at Fort Colville Elementary, he seemed happier, inviting 10 classmates for his birthday party at a bowling alley only three months before Feb. 7.

Adam’s situation was different. His family lived out of town, on an isolated road called Old Dominion. He had been homeschooled from first to third grade, but then entered Colville under difficult circumstances. A grandfather who lived with the family had recently died from kidney failure, and his father was frantically busy caring for a wife with progressive dementia, working as a driller, and keeping track of eight children, of which Adam was the youngest.

All of Adam’s brothers were known to law enforcement. Adam idolized his eldest brother, Eric, who had recently been sentenced to 25 years in prison for the murder of a 63-year-old in a botched robbery attempt. The brother closest in age to Adam, Andrew, seemed to regard Adam particularly as something of an apprentice. He would drive Adam around town, teaching him to case houses, look for bicycles to steal, find out if the family owned a guard dog. Earlier that school year, items had begun to go missing from Adam’s classroom. Some were hardly noticed: a library book, a textbook, a composition notebook. Then came iPods, backpacks, a flute, and a $695 clarinet. Debbie Rogers had Adam in her office for bringing a pint bottle of rum, one-third full, to school around the same time. She pressed him on the stealing, and he admitted it, saying the items were hidden under his bed. Andrew was selling them for him on eBay and had told him to take the instruments back to school, because they were too valuable.

Debbie Rogers was extremely concerned by Adam’s desire to emulate his siblings’ path, even before Feb. 7. “Adam kept saying over and over, ‘How do I go to jail, how do I go to jail, what do I have to do to go to jail?’” On July 25, 2012, having turned 10 a few weeks earlier, Adam was found in the parking lot of the Colville Walmart, in the driver’s seat of his family’s pickup truck. He admitted he had taken the car without his parents’ knowledge.

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Illustration by Adam Setala for BuzzFeed

A week after the incident, a packed public forum was held in the Colville High School auditorium. The school board invited parents to share their reaction to the event, as well as suggest changes to school policy. Teachers stood on stage, fielding praise, blame, and general lingering anxiety. Several parents asked if teachers could carry concealed weapons into the classroom. The superintendent, Michael Cashion, replied that he would “entertain it as an option,” but also added that teachers might not be ready to undergo the training required to allow them to “level a weapon at a fifth-grader and shoot them.”

For weeks afterward, students were constantly coming to the counselor’s office, talking about the boys, or, more often, a memory it had prompted of violence at home. One third-grader at recess shortly afterward noticed a car parked near the playground with a few people sitting in it, and became terrified that they were waiting in the parking lot to kill him.

At a Feb. 27 school board meeting, Debbie Rogers, Richard Payette, and Justin Sanders, the fourth-grader who had told Richard Payette about David’s knife, were honored with a Colville School District Commendation Award. The gold-starred certificate praised his “acting quickly” and preventing “tragedy.” He was given a standing ovation and a golden apple.

“I was really proud of myself, and it was also kind of sad,” Justin commented in a bashful monotone as he was filmed by local news, rushing his words together as he repeated his story.

“The whole town is proud of this boy,” Principal Allen said. “Without his first step, we don’t know what would have been next.”

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Illustration by Adam Setala for BuzzFeed

After spending two months in detention in Martin Hall, a facility for juveniles awaiting court appearances 20 miles southwest of Spokane, the boys appeared in court for a capacity hearing. They wore beige prison jumpsuits with handcuffs, a chain around the waist, and leg irons, which jangled as they took their seats. Adam was much taller than David, and very heavy-set, with the frame of an adolescent, but far less confident in conversation than his friend. A mop of lank blond hair fell forward into his eyes. David was brown-haired, skinny, and long-limbed.

The state, led by prosecutors Lech Radzimski and Tim Rasmussen, laid out an aggressive case for the capacity of the two boys at the time of the conspiracy. Their contention was that the “taking of another human being’s life is intuitively wrong” and a boy “of any thinking age” knows its seriousness. (The incriminating statements the boys made to Officer Arms were allowed in at the capacity hearing, potential Miranda violation notwithstanding.) As for secrecy, a third student, Chase Lee (also a pseudonym), had been aware of the boys’ plan, and had been promised $80 not to tell anyone.

Both boys’ family histories and discipline records were pored over in the courthouse — they included missing homework, swearing at recess, lateness to class, pushing two girls into a snowbank, and an incident in October 2012 when Adam, David, and two other boys had put a jump rope round a girl’s waist and pulled her across the playground, “scaring her to the point of tears.”

The idea that David’s discipline records somehow related to her grandson’s ability to stand trial for a murder conspiracy incenses Tamera: “I mean, he had late homework in the fourth grade — most fourth-graders have late homework.”

Two experts who interviewed the boys also testified. Many anticipated their perspectives would exonerate them; this was not the case.

Psychologist Dr. Clark Ashworth stated that both boys were aware of what they had been planning to do, and what its implications were. Adam understood his actions were wrong, Ashworth said as an example, because of his acceptance of the possibility of jail time. He had said: “We’ll probably go to juvy like a year or two or something. I wouldn’t go for a death sentence because nobody got hurt.”

The boys also talked to Ashworth about a sexual component of the plan. He had asked about the seriousness of what landed his brother in prison and Adam responded that murder is “the baddest crime that I know of.” Adam then said that a worse crime would be to “kill a girl and then rape ‘em.” David confirmed this, and when asked to define rape, said, “It’s forced sex. It’s not about sex, it’s about strength … It’s illegal.”

Psychiatrist Dr. Alan Unis, with more qualifiers, broadly agreed with Ashworth’s opinions. He felt that Adam’s abilities, which were average at best, had been impeded by being educated in a home while his mother was neurologically deteriorating. Adam’s writing was particularly telling, he said: “One of the things that helps us think in a sophisticated way, analytically, critically, is when we write things down … This boy’s written language is appalling.”

Unis questioned Adam’s ability to comprehend his own plans or consider their consequences. Adam had also voiced the strongest expression of remorse to be heard from either boy to Unis, saying, “There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about what I did, and I play it over and over in my head and I wish I could have the opportunity to tell those people how sorry I am.” Unis granted the possibility that Adam was “prompted” but averred, “It came out very, very spontaneously, and it sounded sincere to me.”

David was hyperactive and verbose in his interviews. He swore, spoke at a rapid clip. His opener to Ashworth was, “Well, I can kick back and laugh. What do you want me to talk about? If you need me to talk about the events that happened a few days ago, I’m all ears and mouth.” When asked if he had told his grandparents about the plan, David said he hadn’t, “‘cause they would tell me not to kill, but I don’t want to listen to all that student speech about killing is wrong, you’ll be arrested. I don’t give a crap.”

Ashworth said he seemed to be manic. When showed police photographs of the school and weapons, David expressed disappointment at there not being a photograph of the knife, as that had been his — blue-black with a spider design on the grip. When Ashworth asked David whether it was a good enough reason to kill the girl because she was annoying, he replied, “Well, the way the other boy and I see it, but you don’t, no.” He said the plan was “actually good to me, and bad, but mostly bad for the real world cause I had a feeling that I’d get arrested.”

Dr. Unis also spoke of David’s mania, saying, “He had a lot of the symptoms we see in kids with bipolar mania … an inappropriately bright, happy mood, incessant motor activity, expansiveness, grandiosity. And then the rapid speech, and of course the problems with sleep.” Unis underlined that one of the factors most in David’s favor was Gary and Tamera’s devotion, but added that in the four months before his grandparents took custody of David, there could have been circumstances beyond their control.

David’s mother is on a battery of prescribed psychiatric drugs, including Abilify, Lexapro, Trazodone, and oxycodone. Tamera recalls there were no such pharmaceutical safeguards in place when her daughter dropped David off with her in 2001: “She was untreated bipolar at the time. She just couldn’t handle raising a baby because babies, they cry and they make noise and they’re messy and they require you to give up sleep and they require you to — you know, at that point in her life, she could not. And she was in a bad relationship, there was some domestic violence. And she called me and said, ‘Can you come get him?’ She had some serious health issues going on. It was a lot of things with her all at once.”

David’s paternal grandmother, Meri, also submitted a letter to the court about her son, Gordon, David’s father, and his extensive mental health history. Gordon had been in and out of psychiatric facilities and threatened suicide even before adolescence; by 28 he was dead of what Dr. Unis euphemistically called “the consequences of untreated bipolar illness.” Unis stressed the increased likelihood of David having a bipolar disorder. He said one parent with the illness increased the chance of a diagnosis for the child tenfold, and two equaled “a grave risk.”

Judge Nielsen summed up the capacity hearing by stressing its uniqueness in Washington state law. Boys this young, with unbroken voices, a crime this serious, with a planning phase for weeks ahead of time, was horribly exceptional. But the evidence was weighted to suggest their understanding of the crime, and of the finality of death. There had been no intimation by either boy that there would have been a last-minute course reversal, and that, if Payette hadn’t found the knife and pistol, the plan would have gone ahead, clumsy, short-lived, but nonetheless lethal. Capacity had been found, and the boys were fit to stand trial.

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Adam’s case was settled in just over a week with a guilty plea — his lawyer, Helen Dee Hokom, did not visit Adam in detention prior to making this decision, did not attempt to raise a mental health defense or to suppress any evidence. The sentencing hearing came a month later.

Dr. Kevin Heid, a pediatric psychologist called by the defense, spoke out in favor of leniency. Adam was impressionable, damaged, and desperately sought out a sense of belonging, with a dearth of reliable adult figures in his life. Juvenile detention would introduce him to experienced criminals, antisocial personalities, and generally lost adolescents. “Adam did not have the cognitive ability to problem-solve his way out of the plan. That would be a concern, but that is different, I believe, than a morality issue, or an empathy issue, or an antisocial issue. It is a cognitive issue,” Heid testified. The reality was that the psychiatric hospital setting Heid wished for his patient was simply not a funded option within the Washington system. Treatment would have to be at a juvenile detention facility, not in a clinic or the community.

The prosecution invited Tracie Case, the mother of the intended victim mentioned in the note, to speak. Her husband stood behind her with an arm on her shoulder. She addressed herself to Adam, who was sitting a few feet away with his lawyer, handcuffed.

“She loves horses and the color pink,” Tracie said of her daughter, her hands clasped and her voice tremulous. She maintained steady eye contact with Adam. “She wants to get married and have kids of her own, and to be a famous pastry chef when she grows up. And if you two boys had had your way, she would have never grown up. She would never have had the chance to make her dreams come true.”

“You were willing to take that away from her, take her away from me,” she continued. “Life is all about choices. We make good or bad. There are consequences, and you have to pay those consequences.” She was nearly overwhelmed with tears by the time she folded her statement and stepped down.

The standard range for a conspiracy to murder charge for a juvenile is two years, but prosecutor Rasmussen was pushing for a sentence between five and six years, meaning until Adam is 16. His rationale was that by then there would be no question that Adam could be prosecuted for other crimes as an adult.

“Adam is dangerous because he doesn’t feel toward other people the way most boys do,” he argued. “There is something missing in him.” He spoke of the “evil” in Adam’s heart that day, and commented derisively on the parade of experts the court had seen: “All of these people concentrate on what Adam needs and what can be done for him to help him understand what he did was wrong. He already understands that it’s wrong to kill a person, he was just going to do it anyway.”

Finally it was Adam’s turn to speak for the first time. He was already crying as he stood: “Like my dad said, I’m sorry, and I’m also sorry because I know this is a bad thing that I’ve done,” he sobbed as his voice trailed off. “And, that this…is not a usual thing for a person my age to do…”

The judge, in a quieter voice, thanked Adam, saying he appreciated the difficulty of speaking up. In his sentencing, Nielsen acknowledged the many, many stressors on Adam’s life, and his extreme youth. But whatever the childish, nonsensical, unworkable aspects of the conspiracy, a substantial step had been taken toward the plan when Adam zipped his gun into his backpack, and hid David’s knife alongside. Nielsen issued a ruling of a minimum of 168 weeks, or three years, up to a maximum of 260 weeks, or five years, keeping Adam in detention potentially until the end of his junior year of high school.

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Tamera was determined to take David’s case to trial. In the meantime he was held at Martin Hall, where he was placed often in solitary confinement. After four isolated months, Tamera says, “he started showing psychoses, he started seeing things that weren’t there, he would hear voices.” On June 18 she decided to post his $100,000 bail — a figure she found outrageous. “We have an 11-year-old child who has no money, he has no car, he has no bicycle, he has a skateboard, that’s his only method of transportation other than me, and they won’t lower his bail.”

She homeschooled David as they awaited the trial. In September, she and Gary moved to Chewelah, midway between Colville and Spokane. The move was partly so the court might be more likely to allow David to go on trips outside the home.

Throughout our conversations, Tamera has remained tough, but her composure breaks as she talks about David’s bail conditions: “I had asked them if I could take him on. I said, if this is all the time I have with him now, for three or four years, I want to do some things with him. Take him fishing, go to Silverwood, which is an amusement park just over the border in Idaho, and they said no, that he was a flight risk.”

The trial might result in more unpleasant facts on the record but it would also mean a full hearing for David on a mental health and immaturity defense, without being lumped together with Adam. It meant another psychologist would have time to evaluate David, and Tamera bailing him could ensure his care, as well as show the court that David being out of custody for months at a time was no threat.

Both his grandparents and his lawyer wished to show that David was a sensitive boy given to daydreaming and alter egos, detached from reality, not to be held accountable for when games spun beyond his control. This tendency to imagine and invent was only compounded by the bipolar diagnosis that had emerged from his scattered energy, and rapid-fire responses, in the earlier psychiatric interviews.

“He’s not a normal 11-year-old boy,” Tamera says to me, carefully. “He doesn’t live in the real world, he has his own little world that he’s in, and he connects with our world but he’s not in it.”

The prosecution did, of course, present more damning testimony at the trial that October, like from Chase, the boy David and Adam had intended to bribe. Chase shuffled closer to the microphone than other witnesses, speaking softly. He proceeded to tell the court everyday details of fifth-grade friendship (“I never hanged out at their houses”), mixed in with unnerving detail of the plan all narrated in the same wrenchingly matter-of-fact, childish voice. For some weeks Chase had known of the boys’ plan to get revenge: “I’m pretty sure he mentioned handcuffs and raping … He just told me that he was going to use handcuffs the day before. He explained rape was getting somebody naked purposely.”

On the morning of Feb. 7, Chase came in from the bus with David and Adam, who passed a knife back and forth, which Adam then slipped into his sweatshirt pocket. Chase earnestly testified that as he walked to class with Adam and an ebullient David, he had apparently told David to “come clean and stop doing what he was going to be doing.” He claimed David shrugged him off, saying, “No, I want to go through with this.”

Melody Youker, a case manager at Martin Hall, also testified. She spoke with amused affection of David’s hyperactive persona, and said that when he first arrived, he “kind of bounced around, rattling on the doors. Seemed pretty upbeat.” She also revealed that, on the day he spoke to Martin Hall at his intake assessment, David had reeled off, unbidden, incriminating throwaway lines. He asserted that if he found out who “snitched” on him, he would kill them, and that he was having “a day,” because he was here and the girl was still alive. He also boasted that he had been “the brains of the operation.”

However, when cross-examined by Donald Richter, David’s attorney, Youker showed she could be an asset to the argument that David was a dreamer, in the grip of a manic episode, utterly incapable of distinguishing between fantasy and reality. She described David as having great difficulty focusing, and generally summed him up as an unusually hyperactive, intelligent bookworm. David also liked playing characters, in a way that most children his age had grown out of; particularly he wanted to play any character “with a sword.”

Youker testified that in May, David had told her he had a secret, and that if he told her, she couldn’t tell anybody: “And so he told me that when he goes to sleep at night, he leaves his body and goes into his wolf body. And he was concerned — he wanted help with this, because the wolf body was getting out of control. And he wanted to be able to control this wolf body.” As Melody explained this to the court, David began to drum his fingers on the desk, continuing throughout the rest of her questioning, and stared hard at the witness box. David had also told Youker that when he speaks to someone new, he sees words and numbers hovering around them, telling him what they’re about and how far he can trust them. Youker’s number was high, around 698.

Youker’s testimony also touched on how isolated David had to be kept in Martin Hall, due to his small stature, outsized estimation of his own strength, and how ill-disposed other inmates were to an upstart, precocious kid, lost in his own world.

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Illustration by Adam Setala for BuzzFeed

Jerrie Newport, a juvenile probation counselor for Stevens County, drew up a report that was intended as a balanced look at the perspectives of all adults in the case, and to guide the court in its sentencing. Newport revisited Unis and Ashworth, who reiterated David’s likely bipolar disorder, and the need for lifetime mental health treatment. The most damaging assessment of David in the report came, in fact, from Newport herself, perhaps all the more damning because it was a lay opinion, in persuasive prose, that amounted to a woman who had been thoroughly unsettled by a boy she regarded as dangerous.

Newport had been charged with seeing David once a week while he was on bail, accompanied by his grandmother. Most weeks were uneventful, but on Sept. 19, Newport noted an incident that unsettled listeners. Tamera spoke to Newport about plans they had when David got home, at which point David slammed his palm to his forehead and said loudly, “What the…!”

Tamera calmly asked David what he intended to do, and in a low, warning voice, David replied, “Going back to sleep.” He followed it with, “When I get home I am going to break something.” When Tamera asked what, he replied, “Something I can break. Like a box.” She offered that she had a box he could vent his frustration on if that’s what he wanted. With his head lowered, David looked up at Tamera through his eyebrows and said — in court, as Newport related the story, she adopted a flat, affectless, Village of the Damned tone — “Well, excuse me, but could I borrow a knife?”

Judge Nielsen stated that he accepted David’s bragging assertion at Martin Hall, of being “the brains.” That he was “a leader, charismatic.” He returned to the doctors’ suggestions, that detention, if coupled with treatment, would mean not only community safety and “possibly punishment,” but an improved prognosis, rehabilitation. He spoke warmly of David’s grandparents, singling out Tamera as a “thoughtful person, highly skilled,” but that he feared she could not always be there to curb David’s more worrying instincts. Though he admonished, “I don’t, in saying all this, mean that David is an evil person, I don’t believe that for a minute.” He understood David’s grandparents wanted to continue to raise him, “but I have to weigh things here as a judge in the middle of a community.” Nielsen finally handed down a sentence of three to six years, meaning David would also possibly be held until his junior year.

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Via youtube.com

In February 2014, though, Adam was re-sentenced. The court agreed with an appeal filed that his first lawyer had been incompetent, violating his due process rights, that Adam had not properly understood the consequences of his plea bargain, and that his capacity was far more in question than had been previously argued. The sentencing focused heavily on Adam’s exemplary behavior while at the detention center for convicted juveniles, Echo Glen, and brought out fully what had been expressed to me by everyone I interviewed: that Adam was a follower, that he would never have been inclined to violence on his own. His counselor testified that everyone at Echo Glen loved him there and recognized his smile. Debbie Rogers and Richard Payette spoke in Adam’s favor, as did Superintendent Michael Cashion, who said, “Colville schools are ready to serve Adam, whether it be tomorrow, or a year from now,” the “tomorrow” part of which somewhat surprised the courtroom. Adam’s sentence was altered from a maximum of 260 weeks to 129 weeks with 36 months mandatory probation, meaning he could be released by 2015.

It’s yet to be seen whether Colville, and the boys, will be best served by the earlier release of Adam, and the potential six-year detention of David. Adam appears to be thriving at Echo Glen. As he told the judge, he has moved on to the “seventh- and eighth-grade math books.” When he’s released, he will be returning to a house in which a brother who trained him in thieving still lives, and where for six years he was cared for and then homeschooled by a mentally declining mother. However, Adam’s father, who leaned over the bench at his latest sentencing to say, “It’s up to you now,” loves his son, and wants him home.

There is another unanswered question, which underlies the entire case against Adam. It was never clear why the Stevens County welfare and education system was satisfied keeping Adam off the books and being “taught” at home, why at a time crucial for his development he was out of public school for three years, left with an unwell parent. If an attitude of parens patriae had been adopted far earlier, Adam might have been saved three lost years before Fort Colville.

But is it best, then, for a boy like David, who, the court now seems certain, devised the plan, to spend time in a facility with other, older children with multiple offenses? Should he in fact be kept at home in Chewelah, with Tamera and Gary, who would adhere to suggested therapy, a behavioral or medical regime? But then there would be no proportionate punishment, no consequences. As prosecutor Rasmussen put it, “I don’t have much faith that he will be successfully treated … We will see him again when he gets out.”

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Echo Glen is a dot in the eastern Washington wilderness, the nearest landmark a body of water called Icy Creek. It is a one-hour walk to the nearest town, three hours to the highway. Tamera tells me David was supposed to be housed with smaller, younger inmates, but in fact only one dormitory matched this description, and Adam was there, so to keep the boys apart David had to bunk with offenders who were 15, 16, and 17, whom she describes as being “as large as full-grown men.” There had been violent fights in the dorm, though none yet that had targeted David. Tamera’s voice rises in exasperation: “I figure in this country if we’re going to start arresting 10- and 11-year-old babies then we either need to build separate facilities for them, to not put them in with the bigger kids, or we need to not arrest 10- and 11-year-old babies.”

A counseling program that had been promised began five months after David’s arrival, and would last only 10 weeks, due to lack of funding. Tamera and Gary see him every other weekend, for a total of four and a half hours. Recently a staff member, in response to David’s resolute attachment to his fantasy world of wolves, swords, and quests, and his perceived distance from the other inmates, had made the decision to take away his books, Legos, a 500-piece wolf puzzle, and a Star Wars poster. When Tamera asked whether this was a disciplinary move, she was told no, that David simply spent “too much time” in his imagined world, and that he “wouldn’t come out and play with the other boys” — no mention was made of the four- to six-year age gap between him and his roommates, or the willingness of other inmates to engage with David. Tamera says, shakily: “It’s really hard to know someone is mistreating your child, and you are completely powerless to do anything about it.”

While bailed out, Tamera tells me, David played with neighbors’ kids, saw his old baseball coach, and studied. Tamera also saw the whole case against her grandson, the beginning of criminal proceedings in the first place, as deeply flawed, mistaking a child’s hare-brained imaginings for a sinister plot.

“It’s not really a credible threat,” she says. She later adds, “You’ve got two boys going, ‘I’m the tough guy, I’m the boss.’ Of course, they’re 10 and 11 years old — they’re both going to say that. I don’t think either one of them felt they could back down, ‘cause they didn’t want to wuss out in front of the other. So nobody said, ‘This is dumb, we’re really not going to do this, we’re just pretending.’”

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Read more: http://www.buzzfeed.com/victoriabeale/should-two-children-be-imprisoned-for-plotting-to-kill-their

#colville #conspiracy to commit murder #fort colville elementary #juvenile delinquents #washington state

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