#I couldn't wait any longer

[teejaystumbles]

Balancing Our Equation

Chapter 2: Connection Parameters

(no warnings, relationship negotiation)

“Hello Dream. Thank you. This place is very nice,” Hob says and tries not to stare too obviously at the other, “I’m surprised you managed to get a table on such short notice.” Dream waves his hand as if it is of no importance. “I have a standing reservation. It is one of my favourite restaurants in London.” Hob raises an eyebrow but does not comment. Clearly Dream is quite wealthy, something Hob feels a bit intimidated by, but he tries not to let it rattle him. They sit down and Dream looks Hob in the eye with intent, seemingly taking him apart like earlier. Hob blinks and tries to relax under the scrutiny. He does not exactly dislike the way Dream looks at him. Hob is simply not used to being the singular focus of someone, especially not someone so beautiful. “Thank you for accepting my invitation. I want you to know that I usually do not engage in casual dalliances with strangers,” Dream says. “I'm here because I'm interested.” “In me?” Hob asks, heart in his throat. Dream nods.

Read on AO3

[ana-roo]

*Shaking in my chair*

IT'S HERE!!! ✨️✨️✨️

[a-shy-mimiktwo]

VOID remembered how Old 'ira wanted him to "socialize more" and "leave the damn void and shadows once in a while.”

He sighs in frustration.

"Ugh... F̸̡̡͓̖͉̣͈́͐͑̾̀͐͋̚͝ IN̷͇̳͈͕̤͖̜̘͗̄̾͐̆͜E̷̹̖̿."

"This form shall suffice."

VOID has properly arrived at the gala.

Only his right eyes shift

His left arm being longer is part of the design

Somewhat inspired by MissingNo from @phlurrii

Ok, mostly inspired by Noe

[army-in-the-stars]

... and he is back 💚

[levis-roomba-army]

AHHHHHHH

[sunpoweredog]

Face reveal!

[aniihera]

Ok. I’ve been compiling my thoughts on the pathologic 2 endings for a while now, and I’ve finally pinpointed my feelings on them (enough to share at least). I’m desperate to hear what others think about them too.

Lengthy Kin-themed rant oncoming? Perhaps.

More under the cut.

CW: Spoilers for Pathologic 2 (of course).

- - -

To preface: As I am Māori, not Buryat or of the other cultures I have heard the Kin to be based on, my perspective is more from *my* understanding of what it means to be Indigenous than anything else. There are probably many things I’m missing. But I’d like to throw in my two cents, however relevant they are.

Suffice to say, my feelings are complicated. Stylistically and narratively, there was a lot that I enjoyed. From a reconnecting/ mixed Indigenous perspective, however, I still feel unwillingly bisected, torn.

At the culmination of everything, Artemy Burakh and the player are roped into a cruel, two-pronged choice. Destroy the Polyhedron along with the miracles of the Steppe, or let the plague devour the town as you lead the Kin back to its heart. In these scenarios, you either assimilate the Kin into the town, which many of them will despise you for, or push out the nonindigenous townsfolk by force, letting nature run its course. Any third option has already been amputated, beyond your will. You cannot protect the Kin completely either way, some will likely die from the plague in the latter, and the more fantastical will in the first, by being cleaved from the earth’s dying magic.

Diurnal, or Nocturnal. No matter how you look at it, the kin cannot thrive in either. For it to be a choice at all, hurt, to say the least. After playing the bachelor’s route in the first game, I’m sure that was deliberate in an anti-utopian sense, perfection is impossible etc, etc. But the first lens I saw it through, stuck with me.

When I initially read Isidor say this after Artemy’s trial in the abattoir:

“Facing the Future is the way of Love. Facing the Past is the way of Love. But the two are incompatible, and it broke my heart.”

I was devastated. The hopeless dichotomisation of future and past… and I could only construe it as assimilation or death in some manner (but I could not see what role it took yet). That feeling festered for a while, but I wanted to see it from another angle. I think it's natural to be sensitive to the words “progress” (which is usually linked to “civilisation” and colonisation) when anchored against Indigenous culture, but I didn’t want that to blind me completely.

On its own, I do like this line. It’s weighty. And I think it articulates aspects of Indigenous struggle well, to some degree. Going back to the “past” is somewhat impossible for many reasons. Decolonisation is needed but I don’t believe it means restoring the “past” fully by any means. Culture is not stagnant, and neither is the future. To say they are incompatible though pains me. Especially when contextualised inside the divide between the kin and the town. It is an intentionally agonising line, and successfully so. Pitting the themes of Past/Future, against, Kin/Town, is something I find hard to reconcile with. Even just the first part irks me; personally the past walks with me at every step, the future is void and useless without it in full view. But I wouldn’t say a line from Isidor (or Artemy’s subconscious) necessarily defines the game more than it does his perspective. For me, it is the patterns that follow and precede it.

Aspity is a very obvious portrayal of what it looks like to “face the past” completely. Visiting her sanctuary, It becomes very evident that her opinions of the non-Kinfolk sway towards genocidal. They must “flood the town”, as she put it. Considering their treatment on the Bull Project and well… everything else, It’s not unfounded. During the night visits, we develop a growing understanding of what is at stake for the kin. Their language, legends, arts, and traditions, and too many Kin are dying from pest and persecution (Its a familiar story). Herb brides are forced to sell their cultural dance to get by (another familiar story for Māori, kapa haka and tourism, our culture has also become a commodity out of necessity). Legends like the shabnak adyr too are warped by the townsfolk (as it is used as an excuse to target Kin women). Assimilation means these things for them too.

There's also the case of how the Kin are depicted as more animalistic than the “more human” townsfolk. Oyun, Big Vlad, and even Artemy have a long history referring to them as such. To make the Kin less than human is inherently othering (as is any case where the empire views us as inherently more primitive or unevolved). The importance placed on Aurochs and being one with nature in Kin culture paints this in a less hostile light (Big Vlad’s view not so much). But I fear the effect this might have on player perceptions of the Kin will be negative regardless. I’ve seen a few statements about the Kin being a “hivemind”, I can't say I entirely agree. Many are divided on how they view Artemy, as well as what they desire for the future. I’ve also seen this in reference to when a few odonghe gift you organs for your tinctures, but at this point everyone in the town is desperate for a cure no matter the cost. Their more violent practices appear to weaken many fans' empathy for the Kin, painting the Nocturnal ending darker and darker. Getting rid of herb bride “marriages” would be a good thing at least right? Assimilation might be a good thing then? Nothing good comes without cost, and for the Kin this cost is too steep. Survival doesn't have to mean losing yourself piece by piece.

I will say that despite liking the non-Kin townsfolk, I do wish there was a larger Kin presence among the main roles. While we have Nara, Aspity, Oyun, and Taya, I understand how their presence does little to assuage the dread of seeing the rest of the cast wade out into the Steppe. For me, seeing Murky and Sticky in such a lost state during the Nocturnal ending, made me unable to see it as anything but a mistake.

Two other alternating themes are present through the endings. Childhood (miracles and dreams) and adulthood (waking up and walking forward). The dominant presence of children in Nocturnal, and the fact that walking through the near empty town really does feel like a nightmare, showcases this. The impossible has been made possible, the earth sleeps, sated. The endless cycle of responsibility, from father to son, from parent to child... Children rule the future here. In Diurnal, this cycle, at least, has some room to be broken. Responsibilities are weighed more evenly. Letting go of miracles and childhood dreams, that is the only future in this end. I’m not sure If i have to discuss how problematic it might be to place indigenous revival in the realm of childishness, and assimilation in the realm of growing up, but i thought i'd leave the notion there regardless.

Leaving how you view the two ends aside, it's obvious that Nocturnal has a heavier, gloomier tone.

Maybe having a third ending would’ve been reductive, to have one person so easily find a solution to unifying the town. But, it hurts so deeply to have that choice wrenched from your hands. The choice might have been severed by Isidor, but it felt like so much was possible for Artemy. With one foot in both worlds, the potential of true reconnection, i thought we could move past what was possible for his father. It felt like that was the direction Artemy was moving in, seeing the choices before him and bullheadedly trampling through the middle. Just like he did with the cure, finding the impossible connection.

As it stands, the endings are brutal. Survival for the kin is held by a thread, regardless of the direction you look. They either die a physical death, or a cultural and spiritual one (the two could very well be interpreted as present in both depending on how you look at it). By your conversations with Aspity, even if they survive, the Diurnal end is hinted to lead to an essential “dissolution” of the Kin as they know it. Wherein the differences between the Town and Kin will become so negligible that the two are no longer distinct. Which from my perspective is its own, however voiceless tragedy.

Ok, that was a lot of negativity but I’d like to be candid. Even despite all that, Pathologic is still one of my favourite games of all time. I saw someone say on here that Pathologic 2 is most interesting when allowing the player to decide where love takes them (even if they are led to extremes). Love being at the forefront, regardless of the choices you make, no wrong answers, that's what I appreciated most when playing as Artemy. Whether you chose to kill the three odonghe for Rubin, begged him to stay despite everything, killed Oyun, the Oglimskys, or the pest, it was for the love of something. The internal strife of having a mixed identity too, the rejection and affection from both sides, is something I related to even if the circumstances were miles apart from my own. I wish that Nocturnal aligned with that energy, that the nuances there were a little less stark. That opposing assimilation felt like less of a mistake.

There's a lot more I could delve into but this is pretty long already. This post could all read like nonsense/surface level, but I’m curious to see what other people think! Especially other indigenous folk, I’m dying to know how others interpreted the endings regarding the Kin.

[hiimcanadia]

Stede doesn't really get the whole "sexual attraction" thing, but he does very much want to make his boyfriend happy. And he doesn't really like other people touching him, but once he's got permission to touch Ed, he never wants to stop doing that.

Stede is constantly pinning Ed up against the wall to make out with him and give him hickeys. He could finger him for hours without ever complaining of his hand hurting. He will eat his pussy like his life fucking depends on it, only stopping when Ed is shaking and sobbing and begging for a break. It makes him so fucking happy that he can give all this pleasure to Ed, and the fact that Ed is so adorable and cuddly after a few orgasms certainly doesn't hurt.

It took Ed a while to get used to this, of course. Sex between pirates is always pretty reciprocal, and Ed struggled at first with feeling like he wasn't keeping up his end of the deal, like he still owed something to Stede. Over time though, he started to realize that there are things he does that Stede appreciates much more than sex. He likes when Ed bakes for him. He likes the cute little things that Ed is learning to knit. He likes cuddling under their heaviest quilt together when he's had a bad day.

And of course, Stede insists that Ed doesn't need to do anything to earn sex; it's something that Stede just enjoys doing for him because he loves him. In the same way, Stede doesn't need to earn Ed's love, or a new handmade pair of socks, because Ed loves him.

But if Stede gets gifted a new scarf after a particularly good night, or Ed gets his world rocked after finally finishing that sweater for Stede, well. Neither of them are going to complain

[hercarisntyours]

manifested shit so hard (IGNORE THE FUGLY FLASH I HAVE THEM IN PHOTOCARD HOLDERS) (the box i got was elita aswell omfg)

"Elita is a dilligent worker and a leader who always gets the job done, no matter the odds. She always puts dedication to her job first. Elita is proud to have overcome difficult challenges with her peers and come out on top." - google translate idk if it's accurate

[cinammonelles]

I want to talk about this page in particular because the implications here are so riveting.

Lavi is currently 19. Allen is believed to be 16.

Which means that either

The Bookmen are lying

Bookman Jr. did die then and Allen either didn't age the first few years or his age got fucked up multiple times before he met Mana

The first seems highly improbable at this point tbh. If the Bookmen were planning to make Allen take the poison to make him remember his past then lying about when Past!Junior (presumably) died seems counterintuitive and would only make Allen mistrust them more once he was in full possession of his memories.

It doesn't seem like Allen de-aged to an infant. He says his earliest memories are from when he was in the circus. Even if he did age back to an infant, he would've needed caretakers and nothing in the story suggests he had any.

(Note how little Allen doesn't have his Innocence in the last panel. What the fuck does this mean Hoshino.)

Allen looks perhaps 4-5 in both of these panels. If Past!Junior died over 19 years ago and Allen aged linearly since then, then he would have to be 23+ by now. Even considering the possibility that he aged back to an infant, he he should be 19+ by now and he looks barely over 17.

We can assume that he must've aged in a somewhat even fashion once he joined the circus because otherwise the performers would've commented on it at some point of time.

What happened in the years between Junior dying and little Allen getting into the circus? Was he in a child's body till he acquired his Innocence? How did he even acquire his Innocence in the first place?

There's also a final possibility that came to me while I was writing this post— Lavi was born while Past!Junior was still alive. He was born with the 'mark' because Past!Junior was no longer fit to be a Junior. I genuinely have no idea how Hoshino will explain this. Will it be some sort of corruption? Memory loss? Chronic illness?

All of them seem equally unlikely options at this point. But so did the possibility of Allen and Bookman Jr. being different people before this chapter :)

Either ways, this was a very intriguing chapter and I'm looking forward to whatever Hoshino has in store for us.

[flusteredfools]

Chapter 5: More than a ‘Happy Ending’

Summary:

When you had hoped to be as close to Sir Sun as before by the evening, this wasn’t exactly what you had meant. You’re sitting, though embarrassed squirming is more accurate, on the edge of your bed while staring in slight disbelief at your loving guards. The celestial duo stands next to a well stocked cart, full of almost anything and everything you’d need to entertain yourself for the night. While you had also hoped Sir Moon would prepare some things for you so you wouldn’t have to ask, this also wasn’t what you had meant. 

[bloogers-boogers]

Second chances part 121 > 120 > 122

[onlyjaeyun]

CH thought of the day: hoon knowing y/n's keeping her thoughts and feelings to herself so he forces her to come with him to the ice rink to make her skate because he knows there's nothing as freeing for her as doing what she's always loved. he waits for her to put her skates on while he's done already and when he notices that she's crying while staring at her bare feet, he pulls her into a side hug, to which she just nuzzles her face into his chest and starts sobbing. they stay like that for a good five minutes before hoon pulls away and gets on his knees to help her with her skates. after about fifteen minutes of y/n just watching hoon skate and warm up, she finally decides to join him and they actually skate one of their old routines together. by the end of it y/n's crying again and basically blurts out what the fuck is going on with her🤕

[sacredwrath]

P3. Meeting the monster

Torture, beating, injury reveal, gore, infected wounds, nausea mention, taunting

Logan checks his watch, 2:36am. The house has been quiet for hours now, but he doesn't want to risk anyone hearing him leave. Another hour, just to be safe.

Around 3 he loses patience.

He climbs out of bed, putting on fresh clothes and grabbing the canvas sack he'd stashed behind his headboard.

As quietly as he can, he makes his way past the doors of his sleeping teammates and down the stairs to the main level. Jesse still doesn't want to sleep in their old room or pick a new one, so they pile on one of the large couches with Isa and anyone else who wants to join the slumber party. He knows they still don't sleep much, and getting past them will be the trickiest part of this.

He creeps through the living room, keeping to the shadows as best he can, stepping only where he knows the floor won't creak. He stops periodically to check they're still resting peacefully, but luckily tonight Jesse seems to be sleeping soundly. He smiles to himself.

Soon he reaches the far hall and darts into the shadows.

There are two more flights of stairs, the first to a large comfortable basement and the next to a massive unfinished wine cellar that, if Jake was to be believed, had once been a dungeon. Back when the house was a functional keep. Before the heros moved in it was used mostly as storage space. No one bothered putting much work into it, preferring to focus on the areas with more sunlight and a brighter history. When the heros moved in they needed somewhere to keep caught villains before handing them over to the authorities, but that was before everything fell apart. Now, they ignore the floor too.

The bottom of the stairs end in a large concrete room punctuated by sturdy support beams and five metal doors. The heros had replaced the existing doors with heavy steel ones with sturdy locks. Four of the doors lead to cells, and the fifth is a bare bones bathroom.

Logan unlocks a cell. He'd left Morgan restrained with his arms stretched above him. The exposed beams working to his advantage. He'd used a chain from the garage and a pair of handcuffs, hoping the combination would be enough to keep Morgan contained in his weakened state. Still, he enters the cell cautiously, prepared for an ambush.

Morgan stands tall, creating enough slack for his hands to rest atop his matted black hair. He sneers at Logan.

"Nice place.” He says, jerking his chin to encompass the cell.

“Shut up" Logan snaps back, trying to keep his voice calm.

Morgan scoffs, tossing hair out of his eyes. He doesn't look good, despite the confidant pose. His skin is too pale for his complexion, looking almost green in the harsh light. Fading bruises litter his face and hands, and there's something... off about him.

Logan had expected him to be angry, raging, and trying to escape, but everything about the man appears calm, controlled. His dark eyes take in every detail of his cell and captor. It feels invasive, like he's a butterfly on Morgan's tray, exposed, pinned in place. It's disconcerting to feel so scrutinized by the bedraggled, sickly man in chains.

"So..." Morgan drawls, dragging the word into two syllables. "Guess you're one of Jesse's teammates hu?"

The familiarity with which he speaks their name sets Logan's teeth on edge. His lip curls

"And you are Intelligence Specialist Adrian Morgan. Professional torturer for AQUA and lap dog of Commander Mathew Gould. You're the monster who's spent six weeks torturing someone I love."

He shrugs, indifferent to Logan's fury. "Pleasure. Since you didn't kill me, I guess I'm here for payback?" He doesn't sound afraid, or defeated, or even angry, just bored.

Logan circles him, pulling his switchblade from his pocket and flicking it open in answer.

"Great," Morgan sighs, "can I at least get your name first?"

"No" Logan snaps.

The man's attitude infuriates him. Why should he be so calm when Jesse can barely look at a kitchen knife without panicking? It's not right.

He needs this man to feel it. Everything he put Jesse through and more. He needs to replace every memory of Jesse's fear and pain with Adrian Morgan's agony.

He cuts away the man's mud crusted coat and shirt.

-and sucks in a surprised breath. “What the fuck-" The man is a mess.

Beneath his shirt, he is coated in dried blood. Purple and yellow bruises lay across his entire back in a messy criss cross, looking closer to an animal attack than any battle wound Logan's seen. In places, the skin is broken or almost entirely flayed away, leaving raw scabs struggling to heal. Mud caked lacerations overlay the mess, the skin around them swollen and red with infection. A careful web of stitches patchwork the worst of it together, but many are torn and ineffective.

Logan stares in shock. He knew the man had enemies, but not like this. Someome clearly got to him first.

He runs a thumb over a mostly healed portion, gratified to feel Morgan's muscles tense in anticipation of pain.

"The fuck happened to you?" Even as he asks it he knows it doesn't really matter. He doesn't really care. Except maybe to know who's hand he should shake.

"Fell down the stairs." Morgan quips. Logan shrugs

“Looks infected" He prods at the red puffy skin, watching closely, hoping to see the man flinch. He doesn't

"That's your problem now."

Logan raises an eyebrow, failing to see why he should give a fuck.

"Wasn't really planning to let you live through this.” He grins. “Hope it hurts, though." He claps him on the shoulder, harder than necessary, hoping again to see him flinch. Instead, Morgan barks a laugh

"Oh that's dark!" He chuckles, carefully watching Logan's slow progress.

He studies him with such profound intensity it makes Logan uncomfortable. He resists the urge to step back, instead meeting the man's gaze and letting his anger do the talking

The two men's eyes bore into each other. Pure hatred meeting Morgan's almost bored curiosity. Logan growls, he wants to see fear there

"Better get on with it" Morgan prods eventually "unless you're trying to stare me to death."

Logan's eyes don't waver, refusing to give an inch. Morgan yawns, finally breaking eye contact.

"Seriously, what's the hold up? You nervous? Getting cold feet?" He cocks his head, something seeming to dawn on him, and he lets out a surprised chuckle.

"Oh wait! No... that's it isn't it!" A broad mocking grin splits his face.

"How precious is this! It's your first time isn't it?... You're a virgin!" He cackles, throwing his head back in delight. "Oh this is too fucking good! Have you ever even seen real torture?" His eyes dance with mirth as he tries, unsuccessfully, to contain his laughter

Logan doesn't answer. What's wrong with him?

"Well, it's lucky you got me then sweetheart. I've got enough experience, for the both of us, I'll talk you through it."

"Shut up" Logan barks. This man is insane.

"Make me" He spits back, amusement dropping away in a fraction of a second to reveal derision underneath.

Logan moves, pressing the knife hard against his cheek. This close, he can hear the man's rapid panting breath and smell the sour stench of him. It turns his stomach.

"You'll have to press harder than that if you wanna see blood." He hisses, a crazed look in his eyes. “You sure you've got what it takes? You're not gonna pass out on me the second you break skin, are you?”

"You don't know me." Anger claws its way up his throat. The words taste of it as he forces them through clenched teeth.

"But I know Jesse. And you're their family." He pouts. "So sweet. Doubt they'd love someone capable of torture."

That makes Logan pause. What would Jesse think of this? He's honestly not sure. Even though they're angry, Jesse has never been one for revenge. He's not sure they'd be capable of something like this. He's not sure what it says about him that he is.

"Oh no!" Morgan exclaims, "didn't mean to freak you out. I'm sure it's fine.” He grins in mock sympathy. “Here, let me help. I'll make it easy for you. My first visit with Jesse, I had them strung up just like this. I like to start with a knife too. Most people haven't experienced that kind of deliberate pain before. Jesse was no exception -"

"Stop talking!" Each word spears Logan's heart, breaking his composure. He doesn't want to know this.

"You have to shock them. Show them they're out of their element. Let them know you're gonna hurt them and give a taste of what that means." The words spill out fast and brutal as gunfire. "What's coming isn't a back alley beating and a few questions. It's best to make them scream. Otherwise, they'll feel they've got the better of you. Jesse screamed. Only took like twenty minutes. They try so hard to be tough, but turns out, their ribs are especially sensit- oof"

Logan feels the crunch of Morgan's nose breaking against his fist, it isn't even close to enough.

"-they're just pathetic-"

Logan hits him again, and again, not letting him finish. Fists driving into his chest, ribs, stomach, face.

"You fucking animal!" He bellows, punctuating each word with another blow. "You don't deserve to breathe the same air as them!"

He wants to hear him scream. He keeps hitting, but all he hears is the frantic wheeze of breath in and out of the man's shattered nose. The weak little sound makes him see red

Morgan's knees buckle and he slumps in his chains.

Logan drags his head up by the hair only to see sharp, bloodstained teeth grinning up an him. Morgan hisses out flecks of blood and spittle with each labored breath, he's laughing.

"There you are" the words are strained, but satisfied, almost triumphant. They boil Logans blood

The knife is back in his hand as he moves behind his prisoner. Finding one of the partially healed wounds, he slashes through it, reopening and deepening it all at once. Adrian's body jerks and a painful grunt escapes him. Finally.

Logan drags the tip of the knife slowly across his skin, not deep enough to cut, gratified to see goose flesh rise in its wake.

He examines an area on Morgan's left shoulder, a spot where his skin is almost entirely peeled away and infection has set in. He drives two knuckles into it, cracking the scab. Morgan groans, trying to writhe away, but Logan follows his movements, increasing pressure on the wound. His groan turns to labored gasps before Logan finally pulls away.

He doesn't give the man a second to catch his breath before punching him in the same shoulder. Logan sneers, watching his face contort in pain.

It feels good

He lets himself touch rage.

Taking full advantage of the mans wounds Logan places each blow precisely, tearing open semi healed gashes and deepening healing bruises with his knuckles. Fury pours from him like a river broken free of its dam.

Jesses body. Their leg, smashed and unusable. The look on their face when he found them cowering against the cabinets, kitchen knife clutched in trembling hands. The way they act during their hallucinations. They way they look at him-

"How could you?" He roars, not caring that he's lost control. He wants to kill this man

"How could you?" Take their smile, their laugh, their peace! Their whole fucking life now revolves around Adrian fucking Morgan and the damage he's left behind

"How could you?"

An agonized sob tears from Adrian's throat, startling Logan back to himself. The man isn't laughing anymore. Tear tracks cut through the blood and grime on his face, and his body shakes with whimpered sobs he's trying hard to control

There's blood in Logans eyelashes.

He notices he's crying too. Trying to wipe away the tears only smears more blood on him, and suddenly the anger is gone, replaced by trembling hands and nausea. Disgust rolls in his belly at the sight of his bloody hands and the ruin of Adrian's body before him.

"I was wrong." Morgan gasps between labored breaths, his voice still holding the remnant of tears. "You do have what it takes. Congratulations," his eyes drift closed, body relaxing into the chains."You're just like me..."

Silence rings in Logans ears like the aftermath of an explosion, he's frozen in place, he can feel blood dripping from his right fist. After a long moment Morgan licks his lips

"I recommend getting yourself a whip, or a sturdy cane." He pauses "You can do more damage, quicker with those. They hurt worse and don't take as much energy as a beating. You look like you're about to drop" the absurdity of his words shock Logan out of his stupor.

"There's something seriously fucking wrong with you." He shoots back

Morgan tries to laugh, but it's closer to a sob. He sounds drained, uterly exhausted, but almost sympathetic when he says "Your first time will fuck you up. Be sick, if you need to. Take a shower, try and get some sleep. You might be in shock, either way you look almost as awful as I feel." He smirks

Logans eyes narrow. "You're a creepy little fucker. Aren't you? Even chained up in my basement you're still pretending you're the one in control. Trying to make me feel small. When will you get it through your head? You're nothing anymore."

He scoffs, eyes drifting closed again as Logan turns to leave.

"Wait." He calls almost reluctantly. He looks like he's about to say something he already regrets. "If you leave me like this, I'll suffocate. I can't stand for much longer, and hanging like this puts too much pressure on the chest."

Logan doesn't want to believe him, but he can hear the strain in his breathing already. Still, he considers just walking out. It's probably a lie, but even if it isn't... good riddanc. The world would be better off without Adrian Morgan in it. And he might be better off never coming down here again

He can't do it.

Releasing one of Adrians wrists to free the chain from the ceiling, Logan berates himself. If this man lives, if he gets out, it will be Logans fault. He should kill him now while he has the chance. Is it weakness? Too soft a heart? or is he just not done making him bleed.

Adrian slumps to the ground, cradling his wounded midsection. The only sign of his pain is a sharp intake of air as he curls in on himself. He holds his wrists out for Logan to recuff. They're already rubbed raw.

"Thank you." and he doesn't sound sarcastic or mocking or angry, just tired.

"Goodnight, Adrian." He spits, closing the door

Prev | masterpost | next

Tag list: @whumpacabra @turn-the-tables-on-them

[sincerely-sofie]

Cave-in: A comic starring Darkrai, Dusknoir, and an unconscious Twig on an expedition gone wrong.

(Note that this takes place after the ending of the fanfic, and people have settled into having Darkrai in their lives... for the most part. Dusknoir still hates his guts and doesn't trust him whatsoever.)

[la-cocotte-de-paris]

pov you see me in an opium den wyd