#The Madman is mentally ill

[bahoreal]

idk what to say about this. i desperately wanted to draw trent in art noveau style. went abit off with his hair and the flowers. happy birthday james lance im so normal about you x

[the-once-ler-in-superjail]

CHAPTER 35: The Asylum - Part 1

Thanks for holding on again, we hope your patience was worth it! Went with a slightly different presentation style this time round (more comic page form) so expect these uploads to not always be the same format- that's part of the fun we're having with it.

Lineart/cleanup, flats & writing- @wiggybe

Layout/roughs, shading/lighting & writing- @self-made-madman

(TW: Mental illness/health/asylums.)

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Once-ler: *Sitting at his desk in his office with his curtains closed, his hands through his hair and he's staring tiredly at a messy desk of papers in front of him. He was once reading them, but he's gotten to the point where he's so tired-out and stressed that he just stares at them without taking in any of the words, his eyes move over the same sentence he's been reading over and over again.*

Warden: *He just bursts through the door without knocking- though this is normal. He never knocks in his own jail, ever.* Good afternoon!~ *He's been... not perkier (it's impossible to be perkier than the Warden already is) but more bulletproof than ever since his breakdown. It's like a big weight off his shoulders.* How's my favourite accountant? Working hard or hardly working? Ha! You know, this place could use some sunshine! *Skips through the room poofing vases of flowers and other decorations around the room, as the curtains magically open.*

Once-ler: *Gasps at the sudden disruption of his silence and looks at the Warden with wide eyes which then squint at the sudden light. He almost hisses like a vampire bat when his perfect darkness disappears. He relaxes and then frowns a little.* It looks fine the way it is. *Leans on his elbow so he doesn't look at the Warden and takes his pen in his hand. He taps it a few times on the desk as he tries to read the papers again.*

Warden: *Pauses, and all the flowers in a vase he's holding wither and die.* Heeeey... *His voice softens down, actually showing some initiative and care for once.* You okay, buddy? *Walks over and rests a surprisingly parental hand on his shoulder. He looks down at Oncie's head with worry.*

Once-ler: *Sighs and drops back in his chair, throwing the pen onto the desk and his chair rolls back a little on the floor. He might have responded more callous if the Warden hadn’t picked up on his mood this time, and then adjusted his own mood to better console him. Instead, he sighs and drops his pen. His shirt is untucked and his braces hanging down by his waist instead of over his shoulders.* No. I'm not okay. *A bit of a whiny teenager voice. Then he frowns more seriously.* And I don’t appreciate you bursting in unannounced when I’m trying to work.

Warden: *Gives his shoulder a comforting squeeze.* What's up? I thought you liked that math-y boring stuff. *Sounds honestly like he cares. He really has grown very attached to his Oncie- enough to actually think of him as a human and not a toy. Which is just why he falter slightly when his sudden burst-in is mentioned.* Oh!-Uh… *Clears his throat then laughs awkwardly.* Sure, buddy! I hate it when Jared bursts in on me too- Not that I’m anything like Jared. *At least when HE suddenly shows up it’s for fun reasons, not boring annoying Jared reasons, and who wouldn’t want that? But he’s starting to learn that Oncie has his own feelings and ways of doing things, and that’s good, because if he was the same as everyone else then he wouldn’t be what makes him so great. He tilts his head.* Anything other than that your all-powerful prison-warden can do to help?

Once-ler: *Shakes his head, but he's really very grateful that he can feel the Warden concerned for him.* Not really. I have work to do for Superjail and then even more important work for my business. *Stands up and points at the Warden.* You've been spending too much over the budget again. *He points his thumb towards himself.* I need to get to Thneedville to sort out my factory. *His hands flick in mid air, flat, vertical and parallel to each other, like he’s showing a box size.* But I cant go to Thneedville, *then points at the floor,* Because I’m stuck here.

Warden: *Brightens up again* Weeeell, why didn't you say so?? *He completely glosses over, or doesn't even hear that he's over-budget. He never does, and probably never will. But, somehow, Superjail always survives.* How about you and I take some time out and go back? You can set up all your... *wiggles his fingers in midair,* factory doowhatsists, and I'll, I dunno, take in a tour! *The thought of Oncie going back alone doesn't even cross his mind. They're a duo.*

Once-ler: *Huffs and strokes his hand through the back of his hair. That’s not a terrible idea. Who’da thought he could just disappear? Maybe he’s becoming somewhat institutionalised here already and is still living with a prisoner mentality. He takes a glance at the papers and then frowns.* Yes! Yes! Okay, just take me out of here.

Warden: Alrighty! *Smiles and pulls Oncie backwards so he's suspended on the back two legs of his chair. He gives him a big kiss before they disappear, then reappear in a hover car on the coast of Superjail’s island. The car shoots off and off they go through the outer world back to mainland and back to Thneedville. There go his powers though- he won't be getting them back until Jailbot comes to get them. He did not think this through very much, but it's a perfectly reasonable plan so far.*

Once-ler: Hmph! *Gasps into the kiss and feels very dizzy once his powers take effect, the dizziness of the powers and the sudden romantic flutter in his stomach at the kiss, make stars appear as his eyes clench shut and they vanish. He snaps forward once they arrive in the car and gives a little shudder, feeling disorientated.* Uurgh…

Warden: *They land outside The Once-ler’s Lerkim and drags them out to the front door, before the car takes off again to leave back for Superjail. He pouts at him good-humouredly.* Enough moping! It's time to take care of your factory! *Wheels around him and moves to push him away from the building.* We'll meet back here in a few hours~

Once-ler: Wh- *Lets himself be walked out.* Where are you going?

Warden: Me? *Juts out his jaw as he thinks.* I guess I'll go exploring. We were so busy the last time we came here that I hardly saw any of the town~ *They were too 'busy'.* Now stop worrying! You're draggin' down the vibe.

Once-ler: You want to go exploring the town alone?- *His initial reaction to that-* No. *- and stops letting the Warden push him.*

Warden: Oof! *Crumples into the back of him, not ready for Oncie to stop moving.* *Pouts, speaking into Oncie's back with his nose and eyes visible over his shoulder.* Meanie.

Once-ler: *Looks over his shoulder.* I just don't want you getting into trouble. You'll probably end up punching a barbaloot or something *Frowns as he just put that image in his head. He might slap the man if he dared to harm any of the animals.*

Warden: *Gasps and straightens up.* The very idea! *Huffs with his hands on his hips.* I'll have you know that I am a grown man! *Shakes his finger in midair in a very old-fashioned way of making a point.* I can walk around town all I want completely unsupervised! *He doesn't sound angry, and he's not. He's just doing that automatically-appalled thing that he does.*

Once-ler: *Turns to face him.* Well, from what happened last time, you can understand why I wouldn't want you to be unsupervised around here. No slapping women! Or getting into trouble! This place is my place, it belongs to me its Thneedville. So I'm not letting you go out alone here.

Warden: Okay! Okay, geez, Mister Territory-Pants *Throws up hands in defeat.* What would you suggest? I'm not following you around all day doing accounts! *Grumpy face, hands on his hips.* If I wanted to do that I'd just leash myself to Jared's big, stupid head.

Once-ler: *Huffs in thought and thinks- that’s a good point. Then chuckles at the little Jared insult* It is big, isn't it?

Warden: Like, enormous, am I right? *Measures it in his hands, momentarily distracted.*

Once-ler: *Keeps laughing at him* Haha-! Totally~

Warden: *Frowns* Ababab! Don't distract me. *Grumpy point. However, throughout all this he's still been perfectly happy and in his usual safe half-sane space. No breakdowns or real arguments seem likely. He folds his arms.* Are you gonna arrange me a babysitter or something? *Sounds like he'll put up with it to humour Oncie's 'insane overprotectiveness'.*

Once-ler: Ppppffffff... *Rubs his neck* I don't know any-...I wonder who I could hire... *He ponders for a looong time, genuinely considering hiring a minder for his own boyfriend, which causes the Warden to almost start spluttering in incredulity, and then gives up with a little smirk.* Alright. *The smile drops and he looks him dead-on and serious.* You can go out alone, if you promise not to get into any trouble. No fights, no tantrums, nothing. *Smiles, softening his voice.* You gotta be good and polite and nice to people. You're not the Warden here, okay? You're Edmund Theremiah, so act normal and mature, okay?

Warden: *Squints in submission.* Fiiiine. *Hates the thought of being 'Edmund Theremiah'. It sounds boring and uninteresting, and he takes GREAT pride in never being boring and uninteresting.* Scouts honour. Best behaviour. *Stuffs his hand in his pockets and kicks a rock poutily.* I'll be good.

Once-ler: *Smiles at him calmly* Good~ Because you’ll be in trouble if you aren't, you hear me?

Warden: *Juts out his jaw in grumpiness again.* Yes Oncie. *Deflates slightly.* Stupid Thneedville. Can I go now? *Sounds so childish.*

Once-ler: Here, take this. Then if anyone questions you, you can just tell them that you know the Once-ler. *Reaches into his pocket and pulls out the pink truffula pin that usually goes on the lapel of his green tailcoat. *Strokes under the Warden's jaw and then pulls him into a little peck on the lips. Then tilts his head to the town.* Okay, off you go then.

Warden: *Blinks innocently when he sees the pin and takes it from his hand* Uuh- *The peck comes as a surprise, he pecks back with pink cheeks and a small eyelash flutter, then jumps up and down on the spot a few times.* Yeah! See you later, Oncie! *Pockets the pin and then leaps off to go and explore.*

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Once-ler: *Stood outside his factory gates in his green suit, all dressed up for opening his factory again. He's holding a pair of scissors, cameras are flashing everywhere and girl are screaming at him.* -And I am very proud to finally re-open the new and eco-friendly Thneed factory!~ *Cuts the red ribbon across the gate. People are cheering and photographers are flashing, journalists go to smuggle him.*

Lorax: *He's sitting on top of a small wall nearby, watching the proceedings. He refuses to go down just yet because he hates publicity- especially after the media circus he was dragged into when Oncie ran the factory before. All that 'Lorax approved' bullshit left a bad taste in his mouth. Still, he looks proud of him now and has already had a peek at all the inner workings of the factory. So far it honestly looks eco-friendly, and so he's very pleased. Cautious, but pleased.*

Once-ler: *After talking to a few reporters, talking to a few fans and signing a few thneeds, shirts, bra's and breasts, he eventually starts to bat a few of the bothersome public away.* That's enough attention for one day I think, thank you all for coming~ Once-ler out. *Enters his factory and shuts the door behind him, letting out a tired sigh as he does, but he straightens and walks to his office. He goes over to his huge balcony and leans over the edge of it, smiling broadly at the very few truffula trees that managed to survive his onslaught and then dropping his smile when his eyes fall on the many stumps he left behind. He chews on his cheek… He should really do something about them.*

Lorax: So! Looks like you managed to turn it all around, huh? *He's above Oncie's head, sitting on the top of the window-frame with his little legs dangling over the edge.* You look tired. You been eating properly?

Once-ler: Hm? *Looks up at him and smiles. He's gotten so used to the Lorax randomly popping up in places that it doesn't make him jump anymore. He can almost predict when it'll happen by now, which isn’t something he can say for the Warden just yet.* Oh, naah, I'm fine. It's just difficult to be in Superjail and have everything else here. *Rubs his face with both hands and yawns out a word-* Tiring. *Sniffs.* All these fans and reporters too. But I can handle them, no problem.

Lorax: *Jumps down and lands in front of Oncie's feet.* Aww, well make sure you get enough Zs, got it? I don't like the thought of you runnin' yourself out. *Turns around to look up at the much nicer factory and gives a low whistle.* You know, much as I hate commerce and capitalism and all that crap, you really have done me proud. This is somethin' good. *After how far they've come together, he knows that those words are ones that will mean the world to him. He looks back over his shoulder at Oncie with a smile.* So where's your guy? He back in that jail of his?

Once-ler: *Smiles broadly at him, feeling very happy with himself that the Lorax feels that way about his hard work. There’s a warm swell in his stomach at hearing those words of pride, and that sort of feeling is so rare to him. He goes quiet for a moment, so happy he's finally been able to please him and hasn't messed up this time.* No, he came with me here. But he's out right now to explore Thneedville. *His voice sounds a little unsure at the end, and his smile has relaxed a little. It's more like a slight mask over his worry.*

Lorax: *Sounds very sympathetic as he groans,* Uh-ooohhh... And Thneedville's still standin'? *Turns around properly to face Oncie as they talk.* Ah, he's probably fine. *Gives him an encouraging smile.* That town is harmless - he's the most dangerous thing in it. You've got nothin' to worry about. *Still sounds more like he's comforting Oncie than actually giving his honest opinion.*

Once-ler: Yeah, exactly! I'm not just worried about him, I'm worried about the town. He doesn't know this place very well and this place doesn't know him at all. *And maybe the fact that the Warden might be the most dangerous thing in Thneedville isn’t actually that reassuring.* But- yeah... I'm sure everything will be fine.

Lorax: And if not, it's nothin' you can't fix. *Gives him a grin and holds out a paw for him to take.* So! You got a kitchen in this place? I'm starved and I'm sure you owe me a meal for somethin' or other.

Once-ler: Haha- sure *Takes his hand but pulls him up onto his shoulder. Then walks back in, removing his hat and placing it on his chair.* So how've you been? I haven't seen you since I got my eyesight back.

Lorax: *Punches the side of his head gently.* And it's damn good to see you... Seein' again! You gave me the shock of my damn life. *Relaxes.* But I've been keepin'. Joints gettin' stiffer every day I swear to God. *Gives a happy hum. As old as he is, he's got a ton of years left in him.* But nothin' much is different. Had to screw with a couple of lumberjacks up in the Arctic National Preserve and then make it down in time to stop an oil drillin' down in the swamps of Tennessee. Whole lotta trekkin'.

Once-ler: *Laughs at his ‘seeing’ joke, and can only laugh more in relief at the fact that whole chapter is over now.* Aaah, man, that sounds like a busy day. *Pulls his gloves off and drops them onto his desk as he walks to the kitchen.* Did you fix it in the end?

Lorax: *Heavy sigh.* Temporarily. They're more thick-headed than you were. *Gives him a friendly hair-ruffle, showing that he didn't really mean it.* Just once I'd like a guy to go "Gee, maybe the little fella is right. Let's all go home and have some hot cocoa." *Pauses, then adds.* "And while we're at it, let's invite the little fella over for that, too." *Frowns* Geez, I really am hungry.

Once-ler: *Laughs.* That's where we're going now. Anyway, it certainly worked on me... eventually. And you can come to mine for cocoa anytime you want~ *Gets to the factory kitchen.* What do you wanna eat?

Lorax: *Jumps onto a countertop.* A cheese sandwich would go down well right about now. *Frowns to add gravity to what he's saying.* A responsibly farmed cheese sandwich. You humans have a way to make everything suspect. *While he still seems very proud and happy for Oncie, he's got the grumpiness of a guy who's just come of a far too-busy day's work.*

Once-ler: Uh- ahaha, sure.*Begins making him a sandwich, sometimes feeling awkward about his race when the Lorax starts complaining about them, but he supposes it’s justified considering what he himself did to his forest. It is the critters job after all.*

Lorax: *Bops up and down on his heels as he waits in excitement for the sandwich.* So how are things with you? Besides being all better? He proposed to you yet or whatever? *Sounds like he's kidding.*

Once-ler: Pfffthbth! *Gets a little embarrassed and shakes his head quickly.* NO! *Gives him the plate with the sandwich on and pouts with a raised eyebrow.* Of course not.

Lorax: *Cackles in a joking meanness before stuffing the sandwich in his mouth.* Well good. You're still far too young! *Points his sandwich at him... or the crust of it, which is already all that's left.*

Once-ler: Thank God! I hope that doesn't cross his mind *Scratches his neck and laughs.* I have a feeling I wouldn't have a choice if he demanded it, if anything because he’s such a romantic and he’d love an excuse to throw a party about us.

Lorax: *Gnaws on the crust of bread.* Would you say no if you had the choice? *Sounds amused and gossipy, but he's always been a little worried about their relationship. Anybody responsible would be.*

Once-ler: *Thinks to himself, tapping his finger on his chin, and then nods slowly.* I know we're like, together and stuff, but just feels weird to get married to a guy, ya know? My mom is really old fashioned in that way, *he sighs,* I doubt she’d ever approve of us, not that she approves of me much anyway. So I guess it's hard to think otherwise. *He shakes his head.* I'm way too young anyway to even think about marriage.

Lorax: *Nods* Smart. Don't tie yourself down to that place. *Still, his expression darkens.* Call me a new-age tree-hugger or whatever you want to call it, but your mom is full of trash. *Finishes sandwich decisively. He's had a long day, and he's not got the energy to put things in a nice way.* You marry a guy if you want to.

Once-ler: *Jolts at hearing the insult to him mom and then panics a little.* Hey! She is not. Don’t say that about my mom. *He’s still in some denial about who his mom really is. He always has been, but at the very least he just thinks it’s rude to say such things about a man’s mother. He’s still finding it difficult to digest what she really is.*

Lorax: Ppft. *Flaps his hand at him but doesn't press the issue. Recently he's been more respectful of Oncie's family- at least when talking about them to Oncie- but he has no patience for it today.* Alright, fair enough. The important thing is that you can marry whoever you want. Whether that be man, woman, or manchild.

Once-ler: *Still tense about that comment, but tries to get back into the conversation.* No- yeah, I know. And it's not that I wouldn’t want to some day... *Gets a little fuzzy feeling.* Like- it'd be totally awesome! I mean- so awesome! *Getting a little excited but relaxes.* And I would, just not now, not this early. I can't get married to someone who won’t say he loves me.

Lorax: *A biiig cat-like grin crosses his face when Oncie gets excited, but it falls immediately when he finishes that sentence.* Wait, what?! After all the crap you've helped him with he's still holdin' out on you?! The jerk! *Dusts his hands clean from crumbs.*

Once-ler: *Looks back at him wide-eyed and quickly realises he said that wrong, and tries to correct his screw up.* N- no, no! I didn't mean it like that. *Trots forward and puts his hands out to the Lorax* He does love me! He just cant say it. But he does. He definitely does! But he can’t admit it.

Lorax: *Squints at him, not sounding very pleased.* Explain.

Once-ler: *Cowers a little. He has no choice but to obey his surrogate parent now. He shrugs.* He- just can’t. He's very complicated. *He sighs.* Right, this is all very new to him, I think he has a real struggle about saying those words, he seems to think that every time he admits to loving something, he gets punished for it. *He frowns* His dad used to tell him it was bad, that it makes things weak and useless to know love. He trusts me more than anyone but its still in there. *That angry frown becomes a sad one.* I think he thinks that whatever he loves will always die, usually by his own hands, whether that’s forced on him or an accident or… I don’t know. *He looks to him with big remorseful eyes.* I think that’s another reason why he doesn’t want to admit it, I've been in more than enough accidents thanks to him. But he does feel it because he's almost been able to say it to me! It’s just that the words get caught in his throat.

Lorax: *Sighs. He's always had his worries, but he does respect that Oncie can handle it.* You'll be the death of me, you know that? *Gestures for Oncie to come over for a hug.* C'mere. Damn, kid, you've got a whole lot baggage wrapped up in this relationship, huh?

Once-ler: *Enters the hug like a normal grip, but half way though he hears that last sentence and his weight falls onto the Lorax in mental exhaustion. It does take a lot to handle the Warden, along with all of his other work, and he does so well to completely hide it that it never crosses his mind. No-one's brought it up before, not even himself, and to hear the Lorax so perfectly know him and know exactly what he thinks, it makes him drop it all out on him accidentally. Like it's okay for him to admit that it's tiring him. He doesn’t even have the strength to respond to that at the moment, he’s too bewildered by that last comment.*

Lorax: Woooaaah, you're okay. *Crumples a little with the sudden weight, but manages okay and gives him a big hug, stroking his hair gently once he's regained his balance.*

Once-ler: *Nods into him but doesn't leave the hug.* I'm fine- I'm fine.

Lorax: Of course you are. *Continues to stroke his hair, one little hand sorting out any stray flicks while the other just holds him.* But if you weren't that'd be okay too.

Once-ler: *Shakes his head.* It wouldn't. *He's not had a breakdown since he's been in Superjail. It's been a long time since he last snapped. He's had the odd cry every now and then, but that’s about it. It was probably when his dad left, or something his mother did, or most likely when the stocks of Thneeds crashed, not that they ever have in reality. There is always so much going on in Superjail, and as much as it all is too much for him sometimes, it’s as if it’s impossible to dwell on anything for too long because you need to be prepared for the next thing. Maybe that’s why it exists in the first place, to keep the Warden’s mind from thinking too much. In a way that’s good, but at the same time it forces a lot of things to become repressed and compressed, until suddenly, someone’s having a breakdown, whether that’s an inmate finally snapping, Jared returning to tears and drinking again, or the Warden literally falling apart at the seams and going on a crying-murder spree. And it was almost him the other day. If the Warden hadn’t been fixed by that rant then there’s a good chance the Once-ler would have given up too. It’s not just that though… How could he ever have the time to have his own breakdown when he’s so busy trying to help the Warden with all of his?*

Lorax: Kid, it'd always be fine. If it's not fine around your fella then it's always fine around me. I can take it. *Takes Oncie's cheeks and makes him look at him. He's frowning, but it's the frown of a kindly father, rather than any form of disappointment.* Bein' around him has turned you into one a' the most amazing people I've ever seen - he's challenged you and forced you to grow and, *he smiles,* now look at you. All grown up and already too good for anybody I can think of. *Rests their foreheads together, glaring at him straight in the eyes.* I can't tell you how proud I am of you. But part of bein' so strong and so capable is knowing when it's okay to stop.

Once-ler: *He hadn’t expected to feel a lump in his throat, and he doesn’t want to, but everything the Lorax says is exactly what he's been waiting to hear. He lets out a quiet, dry sob as he sighs out and then his arms loop around his fluffy friend and cling closely to him. It’s being told that the Lorax is proud of him, the Lorax proud of him after all he did to the forest, that makes a few small tears prick up at the corner of his eyes.* Th- Thank you, *He sniffs a few times, clenching his eyes shut in an attempt to blink away the tears, but a lump still resting in his throat.*

Lorax: *Gives a short chuckle that rumbles through his fur, hugging Oncie tightly.* It's what I'm here for. *Rubs the back of his head, keeping Oncie tightly pressed against his fluffy, warm body. He lets him sniffle all he needs.*

Once-ler: *Sniff against him and squeezes the hug for moments and then pulls away to wipe his eyes. His shoulders hang heavily but he sighs out and feels a little better.*

Lorax: *Smiles at him in a calm and loving way.* You gonna be okay tonight?

Once-ler: *Nods* I… *His chest shudders with an outward breath and he gives him a weak smile.* I should be.

Lorax: *Chuckles at him.* I'm sure your Warden won't mind. He might not even notice if you don't sniff too often. *Plods over to the roll of kitchen paper towels and tears a piece off, then holds it up for him.*

Once-ler: *Chuckles back at his little tease and takes the tissue to finish up mopping his eyes.*

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Once-ler: *It’s the evening after the Once-ler had finished sorting what he needed to in his factory, he’s been waiting at home for the Warden, but so far he’s heard nothing from him and he hasn’t returned from Thneedville. He’d tried to contact his communicator but no-one answered, he even went to look for him in Thneedville after work and couldn’t find him, he called Jared just in case he might have returned to Superjail for whatever reason and he was told they’ve seen no sign of him. As much as he wants to helicopter around him to make sure nothing bad is happening, he does want to trust him on his own- he doesn’t want to go back out to look for him and turn the whole town upside down, looking like a maniac in the process. It’s just that it’s getting to the point now, as he paces around the lower ground of his Lerkim and checks his pocket watch while the day gets later, that he really thinks he should go and turn the town upside down. He doesn't know what to do, he paces his living room while trying to think of a solution, his fingertips in his mouth to chew on and his eyes tense with concern. He thought he’d be okay, but now he’s disappeared and Once-ler doesn’t know what to do or where to go, and he has no idea why he let him go alone. He looks a bit of a mess, in his half/half outfit with his braces hanging down from his waist. Too worried to make himself look that presentable.*

*There's a brisk knock on the door.*

Once-ler: *Jumps a little at the knock and then goes over to the door, suddenly feeling a wave of relief as he hopes that that’s the Warden returning after his day out, but then he considers that it’s a little strange the Warden would knock when he would usually just stumble in and announce his presence. Unless he really took what he said that morning in his office seriously. He winces, straightens himself up and tries to make his appearance better, but he hopes to heaven that it’ll be his boyfriend. He clears his throat, and then opens the door.*

*Outside is a stern-looking, boring man in a white lab coat. He has thick glasses and looks like an immovable, business-like sort. He waits for the door to be answered before speaking, being too strict and professional to call through the house.*

Once-ler: *Looks the man up and down with a confused, slightly concerned frown.* Uuh... Can I help you?..

Doctor: *He nods, his face expressionless.* I am truly sorry to bother you, Mr. Once-ler, but I'm here on behalf of the Thneedville Psychiatric Institute. *Flaps his hand a little in small gesture.* Merely a formality we have to conduct, but we have a patient with us who insists that he knows you. You'll understand that we have a number of patients who make claims of knowing celebrities and usually we don't follow these accusations up, but he's been very insistent. *Coolly he reaches into his pocket and brings out the lapel pin that Oncie owns, the one with the small truffula tuft.* He also had this on his possession. We simply want to make sure that he's deluded, for the sake of his ongoing treatment. He claims to be... *briefly fishes for the word,* a jailer of some sort. *Seems a little embarrassed by how ridiculous a house call this must seem.*

Once-ler: *Squints and tilts his head at him as he listens, wanting to ask questions but they get answered straight away. His tongue goes numb, but he thinks for a moment that this could be a misunderstanding, but then he reveals the pin. He stares at it with horror and takes it slowly, his eyes having to be forced away from it to look at the man again. His stomach has been getting tighter all through this explanation, still clinging onto hope that this could still not be real,but his stomach plummets at the last thing said, and he stares at the man it utter shock, feeling sick to his stomach* No- he’s in a-? *He gasps, suddenly knowing what that means. He feels like he might be sick. He snaps out of it, trying to act sensible and try not to panic, but he is, and suddenly he grabs his coat and top-hat* Thank you. *Then bolts out of his house, almost knocking the man over and slamming his door shut.*

*This is his town, he funds all of its institutions, he practically runs it and he knows where everything is and the quickest way to get to places. In just a few minutes he’s at the asylum and bursts in, slamming the doors open as if anyone would dare to tell him not to. He’s The Once-ler, he practically owns this town, he built it into what it is today. If he wasn’t there then it wouldn’t be able to run properly without him, let alone have such a great economy, and everyone knows it. He bursts in, his tailcoat fluttering behind him like a demons cape and his hat stretched up to the ceiling as intimidating as one of his factory chimneys, puffing the smoke he burns to keep all these businesses alive.*

Receptionist: *Jolts upright at the sudden entrance and in a small explosion papers addresses him nervously.* Oh! Mr. Once-ler! Can I help you? *A few people are picking up and moving damaged furniture and strewn documents from the reception area- something akin to a hurricane passed through here at some point. Clearly the Warden didn't go down without a fight.* Th-this is very sudden- do you have an appointment? *Everything here is very normal and grey, though it does have the rounded edges and slightly off-kilter angles and asymmetry of any Thneedville building - nothing out of the ordinary as far as Thneedville goes, very professional. There's a small piece of very worrying information, however. Perched on top of the receptionist's outbox are the Warden's glasses- a glint of bright yellow in this otherwise drab place. Of course he wouldn't be allowed to wear them if he were an inpatient. They'll be taken to a small holding area until he's let go... but that could be any time.*

Once-ler: *He stops for a moment to look at the mess, he doesn’t even have to question it, he knows it was the Warden's fighting back that caused such a chaos and it makes him worry even more. Then he snaps his head over to the receptionist and struts over to her dangerously* Do I need a goddamn appointment?! Do you really need to ask me th- *Then his eyes catch the glint of yellow and they notice the Warden's glasses. His mouth goes dry and his eyes look at them in complete horror. Okay- NOW he’s panicking. And he whispers, terrified* Y- you-... took them off him.

Receptionist: *Recoils a little.* Uh, well yes! Of course! They'd be classified as... as contraband... sir. *Pauses and tries to avoid looking at him head on- intimidated by him immensely.* I assume... that this means you're here to see the man who was brought in last night? The, uh, *makes very, very meek quote signs with her fingers,* "prison warden"?

Once-ler: *Scowls at her when she quotes with her hands and places both hands on hers and pushes them down.* He is a prison warden, and everything he says is the truth. He knows me. *Clears his throat and tries to calm down- this isn’t her fault.* He was brought in here last night you say? Why? What for? *He demands an answer quickly.*

Receptionist: *Panics a little and immediately starts typing at the computer to one side, pulling up the Warden's record.* Oh, um. *Reads, readjusting her glasses* He was found at the scene of a fight. Apparently there were, uh, weapons involved. He was brought here instead of to the police station because... well... *She ducks a little, not wanting to be the one to say it.* He was claiming some rather outlandish things. I'm sorry, Mr. Once-ler, sir, but I'm not legally allowed to say any more than that. *Quickly adds, hoping to get rid of him as soon as possible.* Would you want to be taken to him now?

Once-ler: *Is about to snap more demands but stops immediately at the question. That’s definitely what he wants out of this, so it works to get him to go away* Yes please. Right now.

Receptionist: *Immediately snaps her fingers at one of the men in coats walking around.* Excuse me! Could you take Mr. Once-ler to see our newest patient? He's... uh... *She looks to the Once-ler and then immediately lies to make things easier.* Family! Yes.

Doctor: *He squints at the Once-ler, then takes some documents from the receptionist's desk. He cringes.* That patient? I'm afraid he's not approved for visitation right now. *He looks down at the notes and snaps them to a clipboard.* If you are family, we will require some... *Again his eyes rest on the Once-ler, knowing exactly who he is but being as careful as possible in regards to protocol...* Documentation.

Once-ler: *He doesn't like the way he said 'that patient'. His brow tightens and his shoulders stiffen at the resistance shown.* There is no paperwork because the man is no longer in contact with his biological family. I'm his significant other. We have photos together, his things are in my house, and the fact that you picked him up with my lapel pin in his possession and I'm not charging him for being a stalking fan but instead am here trying to represent him, should prove we have a relationship. *He breathes in a sharp breath and huff it out of his nostrils like a steaming bull. He tries to hide the pain in his next statement.* He has no one but me who can care for him. *He points his finger sharply down at the ground.* I demand to see him!

Doctor: *He appears completely dispassionate as the Once-ler talks, even though he believes the man is telling the truth - he is the Once-ler after all, everyone knows that and this is Thneedville - because this isn't a court of law and he isn't looking to be convinced. There is protocol to follow, documents to be inspected, because if they make a mistake by taking a shortcut then they could be sued into the ground.* You can demand all you want, sir, but I'm afraid that until I see documentation proving that your relationship is as you say it is, we can't allow visitation until he's gone through our screening process. He was violent with the nurses as he was brought in, and we have no guarantees that this won't continue to be the case. *When he says 'violent', it's highly likely that he just resisted them as they dragged him in.* He’s a very sick man.

Once-ler: *Takes a step forward assertively but not aggressively, and he cuts in before the man can really finish.* He won't be aggressive to me! *One eye squints and he snarls,* But alright, if you want to play that game, how about this for 'documentation'. When was your last unscheduled routine humanitarian check at this establishment, huh? *Straightens up and folds his arms.* By Thneedville law you're permitted to accept an unscheduled visit by a city representative to check that the treatments, handling and facilities provided to patients are humane and up to human rights standards at all times. *Places his hand on his chest and raises his eyebrow.* As the city's main representative, I've authority to instigate this operation when I see fit, as well as appoint the individual in charge of carrying it out, which can also be myself. So consider it your unscheduled investigation, and I request to see the most recent and most volatile patient checked into the facility within the last twenty-four hours to best review these conditions. *He frowns.* I wouldn't recommend objecting to this kind of operation, it tends to look very bad for an institution of people holding medical licenses.

Doctor: *His eyes widen. Oh crap. He straightens up coldly, his shoulders drawing back defensively and his chin lifting, and for a moment he looks him dead in the eyes, lifting his head slightly as if almost daring to challenge him before remembering who he is. Cold grey eyes unpleasantly squinting. They haven’t had an investigation in a long time. The cultural era that they exist in Thneedville doesn’t pay much attention to the well being of mental patients, but if he doesn’t let the Once-ler in to see just the one patient, then he might put a bigger focus on them overall. He might take it to the press and demand a large-scale investigation as revenge, but maybe if he’s let to see the one man then that’ll be all he wants. Finally he quakes, watching the Once-ler's bright blue glare, as the math clicks and he feels a tiny shudder rattle through him. He is the Once-ler after all, and he’s caught him in a bit of a tough place with all that practical, systematic business talk especially when he tried to just throw the same at him about protocol. He's forced to nod with a slightly unhappy curl to his nose.* Very well. Right this way.

*The receptionist moves to escort him, but the doctor holds up his hand.*

Doctor: No-no, I'll handle this. Right this way, Mr. Once-ler. *He turns on his heel almost like a soldier and glides on sharp feet down the corridors of the facility. He doesn’t seem particularly happy with the way the Once-ler has worked around the rules, but he can’t say anything, the man is too powerful. Never the less, he is hiding an attitude with a bitter sneer, holding his head up and glaring out the corner of his eye at the businessman. The doctors here don’t like it when outsiders try sniffing around their patients and the facilities, they just want to get on with their jobs, with unfeeling. What does the Once-ler anyway? He doesn’t know better than they could about this sick man and what he needs.* You will see that we have everything up to code when it comes to exiling lunacy. Out here are our less volatile inpatients, but I'll take you to our secure wing where the worst are. You’ll see, since you’re here to review our establishment, that the mad man you’re talking about is in the perfect place. *There’s the tiniest hiss sound from his nose that indicates a smirk. To him, the people here are nothing more than animals.*

Once-ler: *His eyes are just as unfeeling to the man’s opinion or reaction, even more so, because he owns this damn town and no-one dares to look at him like this man is daring to. He either doesn't know who he is, which is ridiculous, or he's the most stupid man on the planet to exist in Thneedville and look down his nose at The Once-ler like that. Especially when he's standing in the way of something the man wants and will take. He won't be stopped, nothing can stop him, the only thing this man will succeed in is guaranteeing to make his own life worse by trying to slow the businessman down. He lifts his own head and if he were some sort of demonic creature, his claws and fangs would be unfurling at him right now; he's lucky that they're meant to be existing in a civilised society else the Once-ler would have torn him to shreds as easily as the Warden does to the prisoners in Superjail. ‘The perfect place?’ He picked up on that vile, snarky tone towards himself and his boyfriend- his boyfriend who right now is vulnerable and suffering in his worst nightmare. One thing is for certain, this man is losing his job by the end of today whether or not he's taking him down to the Warden right now. He could write a very convincing report on him and have it approved in seconds. He's not in the mood to stare down a more pathetic predator that apparently doesn't know what lions nest it's poking at.* Good. *He says when the man states where he’s taking him, the word coming out as a stab as he follows him down.*

*Naturally he doesn't really care about the facility's humanitarian standards protocol right now, the Warden is the only thing on his mind and he wants to go there immediately, he doesn't even look around or pay attention to the man as he describes the hallways, but he will write a report like he promised once he has his boyfriend back, and as he makes his way through the corridors, he does start to see just how miserable this place is as well as hear the distressed sounds groaning from the rooms… It reminds him of Superjail on a slow day. Maybe he should investigate here- the thought comes to mind for a moment.

He's a man of doing things by the books most of the time, if he declares an investigation then he'll follow through, if he promises a report then he'll write one, but that's already played them perfectly into his hands now and he knows it. They might call his bluff here, thinking he's just using this reason as an excuse to get into the facility and humouring it to save their reputation, when really he wont write a report in the end. But they would be wrong to do that, because this isn't just a one-off excuse to get into the facility, he knows full well that he's opened up the door to further threats that he'll follow through with. Oh he'll write a report, and it'll drag them all through the mud so violently that they'll forget their names because his own will be etched into their ID cards like branded cattle.* Mh-hm. And Doctor. *That last comment stings. Do they talk about all of their vulnerable patients like that? He nods his head when he's told they're going to the secure wing. Then he looks to the Doctor and scowls at him like a feral mountain wolf ready to claw his eyes out. If he's going to get what he wants, people here need to remember who they're talking to in this city. He seethes with a dark voice.* Don't you ever look down your fucking nose at me again, and don’t you ever say anything like that about one of your patients either, or you can kiss your medical license goodbye. *He's lucky he's only losing his job, maybe then he'll learn the most blatantly obvious lesson of the town named after the Once-ler's very vision.*

*The doctor doesn't mess around, taking him straight to the room with their most volatile and most recent patient, but he nevertheless points out the important things as they make their way through - maintaining the paper-thin pretense of legitimacy. This place, like all of Thneedville, is filled with swirling tubes, old-fashioned copper machinery, big buttons beside each rounded door with chunky plaques declaring the rhyming name of each ward or in-patient. It's a large place, or maybe just seems that way because of its labyrinthine layout, but beyond pointing out the appropriate security measures, the basic facilities and gesturing towards continued areas of the building, the doctor says nothing. Like all of Thneedville, this place was sponsored by the Once-ler himself to some degree if not designed outright by him, so it's all good. It's just, unfortunately, old-fashioned.*

Doctor: *Turns when the Once-ler speaks to him. He doesn't expect the way in which he's spoken to, or the dark tone of the man's voice, and it honestly shocks him. He definitelydoesn’t expect the cursing, because thneedville is almost ‘family-friendly’ in the way it’s inhabitants barely acknowledge curse words to be a part of language. It makes him gulp. He isn't about to fight the man, both because he wouldn’t be that dumband also because he's a professional doctor in his place of work, and drops his steel-grey expression immediately. Suddenly his ego vanishes over realising how seriously the business man is about all this. He can’t even see what’s wrong with speaking about one of these patients like that- Is he actually going to investigate them?* O- of course, Mr. Once-ler.

*They get to the door at the end of the secure wing - another rounded door with a little, wonky, barred window, with a big red button to the side and a plaque that says 'Max Security'.*

Doctor: Here we are, sir. *He thumps his fist on the big red button, and the door swings open.*

*The Warden is lying on the ground of his padded cell, curled up and facing away from the door. It's difficult to judge what state he's in, but it's never a good sign when the Warden is sitting still. Sitting still and wearing a straitjacket. Only that and the hospital patient uniform, which is a grey and shapeless outfit with nothing to cover his feet. It's the last thing he'd ever choose to wear himself.*

Doctor: I have.. aah.. much to do, and he's not dangerous like that. *Likely he just wants to get the hell away from the lions gaze. He passes Oncie a small buzzer.* Let the nurse know when you're ready to leave- visiting hours shut at six. *Gives a small awkward frown* Usually patients in the maximum security area aren't allowed to have visitors in the first place, but since it's you... *He knows Oncie owns their ass. He won't do anything.*

Once-ler: *He gasps, his heart breaking when he sees that curled up, limp figure, and if he had zero social instincts, he’d have sprinted over and curled over him by now just to hug him up and protect him. Instead he takes the buzzer off of the doctor.* Right. Thank you.*He waits for him to leave and then steps into the room. His face drops at the sight, he can’t even see the Warden yet, and yet he can feel how much confused agony he’s in. Hopefully it'll be somewhat less painful once he knows that Oncie came for him. Taking a deep breath he goes over to him, his feet picks up with a desperate need to be with him but also not wanting to startle him with sudden movement, and squats next to him. Then places a very light hand on the wardens shoulder and turns him over to face him.* Warden? It's me, The Once-ler. *Gulps, his mouth is dry and his heart is racing.*

Warden: *He's easily rolled over, and the scary thing is that he doesn't even flinch at the sudden touch. He's limp and docile even though he's conscious. He does, however, immediately wince and let out a small, pathetic moan when he meets Oncie's eyes and their brightness hurts him. Without any usual trappings - no hat, no glasses, not even any fancy clothing - he just looks like a crazy middle-aged man. Not a rich eccentric, or some wacky visionary. Just a very tired and sad old man. Still, he loosely smiles up at his saviour, even if it doesn't look like he believes the other man is really with him, and even if it almost takes him a moment to recognise him. It’d have taken longer though, if it weren’t for those blue eyes. More like he's humouring his own mental images.* Hello Oncie~ *He speaks slow, like he's having to concentrate in order to form words. He then corrects Oncie calling him 'Warden'.* It's Edmund.

Once-ler: *He can’t stand to look at what’s in front of him and just wishes this was an awful nightmare, his heart pounding in his chest, chased by horror so fast that it’s begging his brain to wake him up. How could they do this? He knows he’s unstable, he knows he has problems, but he still can’t imagine something so bad, so depressing, so directly out of the worse pages of the warden’s worst fate, happening to his little bunny of a boyfriend. He has no idea what the Warden is thinking or what’s going on his head but he can see that he’s been completely sedated by them, bound and left in a dark corner- the poor thing. Once he's corrected and been told to call him by his actual name, he gasps and swallows as his heart thumps with grief and worry. He doesn’t know what that means, what state of mind that means he’s in, but he holds himself together and grips the Warden’s shoulder a little tighter.* O- okay. Um- E- Edmund? H-how are you feeling? *He’s not entirely sure what the hell he’s meant to say here, but it’s worth asking the question.*

Warden: *His body can actually be felt untensing when Oncie touches him - as defeated as he is, Oncie is still his safe place. Apparently it's so deeply ingrained now that it's instinct.* It hurts. *Sounds a little pouty, but not in the usual joking, playful way. It's the pout of a real child who can't handle what's happened to him.* This jacket. *Gives a very half-hearted fidget.* And.... everything is very... dull. *Shuts his eyes tight all of a sudden.* And too close. *Curls up a little more, tensing up again.* Right in front of me. *He has no shield in front of his eyes. Those glasses are a barrier that have always kept the world out, and kept him in a nice fantasy world. Now he's clamped up in a ball, eyes scrunched up closed.* I missed you. *Now sounds slightly blaming. He's jumping all over the place because he can't hold a thought in his head for very long.* Where were you?

Once-ler: *Watches him with concerns and horror, but then that blame comes and hits him to his core. He completely blames himself for the position the Warden is in, the guilt is starting to drill a hole through his chest, he hisses at the grief and pain in his stomach, but having it directly pointed at him by the suffering man makes it all the more real. He messed up. He shouldn’t have let him go out alone, he knew he'd get into trouble and now he might have truly scarred him for life. Sure, the Warden might have been erratic, but he knows how his boyfriend was last time, and he knows his townsfolk, and the only reason why he let him go along was because he was too focused on work. Now he’s kicking himself for it. The business isn’t important, the money isn’t important, this is important! He leans forward and presses his face to the Warden's, sliding his arms around him and squeezing him into a close embrace. He feels cold.* I'm sorry. *He gasps and shakes his head* I’m so sorry. I- I'm here now though. I'm here. And I'm gong to get you out, okay? *He plants a slow lingering kiss on the Warden’s head, one protective and promising, as he feels his throat close up.*

Warden: *Another small, sad whimper escapes his throat and he shuffles forward as best as he can into the cuddling and kissing. He's not quite coordinated to kiss back.* I.... *For a moment he sort of drifts off, like he's lost focus, but then he returns with a small shake of his head - like a nervous twitch.* I always do this. *His voice is quavering and almost a whisper. His body is trembling, too, weakened and reacting unfavourably to whatever cocktail of sedatives they've given him. The scary thing is, though, that even if he weren't drugged he'd probably be just as still and broken.* Why... why can't I handle being Edmund? *Presses his face into Oncie's collarbone. He has this low-grade terror running through him for as long as he's without his glasses, but after a whole day of that he's snapped and this has somehow made him okay to talk while internally screaming.* They said there's no War... Warden... but I'm not good at being normal. S- *He has trouble getting the last word out.* Sane.

Once-ler: *Hugs him tightly and lowers his voice, because that’s all he can do to force it to be comforting and kind rather than panicking. It’s what the Warden needs, but his chest is fluttering and there’s a lump in his throat.* I shouldn’t have said- I didn’t mean- *He tries to smile, feeling guilty for asking him to act normal earlier that morning.* You shouldn’t have to be normal because you're special, remember? I told you, people can’t see that yet. All sane people are boring anyway. *He tries to let out a little laugh but he pauses for a moment as his nose becomes tingly and he wells up. He stuffs his face into the Wardens neck and clings tightly onto him.* You are the Warden, he is real, and so is Superjail, and we’re going to go back there the moment I get you out. I’m going to take you home. I promise. *He searches for the buzzer and presses it to call someone in.*

Warden: *He's too drugged to cry, or even feel much beyond the floaty, hazy emotions he's swimming through right now. But he does feel Oncie's tears.* Don't cry... *Sounds like he's attempting to be comforting, even with his voice sounding half-asleep.* You're not in trouble... *He sees Oncie press the button and foggily realises that people are going to come in and interrupt them. He gives a short, futile, struggle.* No... no don't call them... I need to- There's something I meant to say. *Falters, looking scared.* I think... I don't know. *Winces.* It's hard to concentrate... *Slightly begging sound, like he wants Oncie to fix his head.* Oncie...

Once-ler: *He places his hands on the Warden's face and looks at him with worry, feeling a jolt of sickness as the Warden begs him.* What? What is it? *He breathes in and out heavily.* I- Its okay. I'm still staying here with you. I wont move an inch, so then I need them to come to me because I won’t leave you, okay? *He pulls him into his chest again and cuddles him. He’s going to fix this. He swears on his life that he’s going to fix this.*

Warden: *Looks very troubled, but also like he's somewhere else. He's not able to fight the drugs combined with the protective fog his brain is trying to wrap itself up with. It won't let him come to his senses, because if he actually realises what's happened and where he is there's no telling what sort of damage that'll do to him. He's already been utterly destroyed- this is his mind's last-ditch defense effort.* It's just... I...

*At that point two nurses come to the door and hurry in. The door is swung open, and just as the Warden immediately sees them, he pushes his head into Oncie's shoulder, diving as heard as he can into his protectors arms for safety and in a desperate attempt to express how much he needs him. He's so scared of them.*

Warden: I LOVE YOU! PLEASE DON’T GO!

Once-ler: *His breath chokes in his throat. It's as if everything’s suddenly gone silent, like time has stopped. For a moment he really thinks he’s in a dream, some twisted thing that is part nightmare and part everything he’s wanted to hear. But it’s not. The Warden said it, and he said it during the most devastating and horrible situation possible. He said it because he's frightened and confused and desperate, desperate for Oncie, the only thing that he recognises and trusts and loves, to save him from the white-coat monsters coming to hurt him again. His heart skips a beat in that moment of the world pausing, and then suddenly races forward as he comes back to reality. Emotions soar through him, grief and love, guilt and gratitude, horror and hope, and he wells up with large flooding tears as he clutches his soulmate so tightly in his arms that they’d have to kill the Once-ler to pry the Warden from him. Out of his cold, dead, greedy fingers, like all of his riches, except this man is infinitely more valuable to him than any dollar bill or any shining jewel.* I love you too! *He gasps* I love you so much, Edmund! I’m not going, I’m never going! I’m staying right here with you forever and I’m going to fix this, I swear! *He suddenly looks over his shoulder and snaps at the nurses like a feral animal.* GET ME HIS GLASSES! Don’t you dare even think about denying me!! *He’s never sounded so furious and threatening before, but he could make their lives a living misery if he wanted to, and if they do not obey him right now then he will certainly rain hellfire upon them all.*

*The nurses gaze at him wide-eyed - at the whole situation, really- and then scatter like frightened gazelle. The Warden will be getting his damn glasses back. There is no question about that.*

Warden: *Has his eyes tightly shut, not at all scared of the way Oncie is shouting. But he's still overwhelmed by this whole situation and has no energy or lucidity left in him, so he clamps up and burrows himself as close as he can into that hug. His emotions are still dulled by everything, but hearing Oncie talking to him - saying that he loves him and is going to take care of him and that he's never going anywhere - is affecting him so deep down that he starts crying even when he doesn't directly feel the emotions he's supposed to. He doesn't wail or sob, he just wells up and the tears stream freely. The emotions are so deeply there that even when he can't think about what it means, or even consciously feel them, his body reels under the effects of it all. He knows what he’s meant to do here, what his body wants, and what his heart needs to express, even in all the brainfog. He sniffs heavily, and a small pant of crying does make itself heard. It's a single bleat, a shudder of his shoulders, and it's all his damaged mind has left to give. He loves him, that’s all he knows to be real when he has nothing left, that’s what the thing that makes sense and knows to stay, and he’s so relieved Oncie is here.*

Once-ler: *Strokes his hand through the Wardens hair and rocks him back and forth, his chin protectively hooked over his head as the tears stream down his face.* Okay- *Sniffs again and leans down to plant kisses on the Warden's head, talking into his ear and doing his best to deliver as much comfort and love to him as he can.* I love you too. *Kisses him again and repeating the words as a mantra.* Everything's going to be okay, everything's going to be oka- ay.

Warden: *Nods pathetically into his front, trying to believe him that things will be okay, because the only hope he can hold onto now is that he trusts Oncie. His facial expression is blank, even though so much stuff is churning up inside of him. Oncie smells so familiar this close, and that particular sense is a vivid experience in his current state. Fresh grass, butterfly milk, sweet flowers, the forest- with a hint of smoke and copper from his factory, and a faint smell of the signature cologne he wears for business. It’s the most perfect scent in the world because its his, and it’s a lifeline for his muddled synapses to cling onto. He never wants to be let go from from this.*

*The nurses scurry back down the corridor for the glasses, they didn't even ask permission to take them from the front office - they just want to swipe them so that they can hand them back to the frightening man - but run straight into the doctor who brought the Once-ler here. He frowns and shakes his head - no. They're not giving an unknown and dangerously unstable man anything that can be broken into shards. It's policy. One brow raises up from behind his thick glasses, reminding them that this is their job, and they're not just here to placate the guy making the loudest demands in the room.*

*Besides, he thinks. They're just glasses.*

*The nurses twitter amongst themselves, because nobody wants to go back in there and tell him. As they twitter, one sneaks past and dashes for the front office because maybe if she can smuggle them in, the Once-ler won't fire her at least.*

*She gets to the front desk, reaches for the glasses stacked on top of the filing cabinet, but is then stopped by a wiry hand with sharp nails. Jumping a mile, she looks up into the eyes of a very severe-looking woman with horn-rimmed glasses, a grey beehive hairstyle, and a long, pristine white coat.*

Female Doctor: What do you think you're doing?

Nurse: Th-there's a very upset patient who needs them, Dr. Zazzerzump! And... *she hushes her voice* Mr. Once-ler demanded we get them!

Doctor Zazzerzump: Mr. Once-ler 'demanded', did he? *Her birdlike face hardens like thunder.* Is Mr. Once-ler the Medical Chief of this hospital?

Nurse: N-no Doctor. But none of us want to be the ones to go in and tell him-

Doctor Zazzerzump: Oh, for goodness' sake. *She storms past the nurse with clipped, high-heeled strides and heads straight for the secure wing.* And Dr. Snickberry-Shoo? What did he say about all this?

*She walks straight past Dr. Snickberry-Shoo as he continues to berate the nurses for trying to get past him. But when he sees his superior come striding past, he takes a step back away from her.*

*This might be the Once-ler’s city, but this is her hospital, and he can’t just waltz in and take a patient from one of their cells like the man belongs to him. His name is on their paperwork now, he’s in their branded straightjackets, he’s in one of their cell rooms, and he has a long, tiring schedule of tests, medication and treatments already being prescribed and planned that’ll last him years until he’ll be allowed to be released. Once he’s proved to be mentally unfit for the outside world, he’ll be institutionalised here, and then he’ll belong to her and to the system.*

*Although relief floods through The Once-ler to finally have his beloved safe in his arms again, this isn’t the end of the road like he hopes. He doesn’t realise the approaching battle coming on the horizon. He doesn't realise what a terrible ending they might be met with if he doesn’t win it. He doesn’t realise, that in a cruel twist of irony, the Warden might finally become the Prisoner.*

To be continued...

[uncanny-tranny]

Actually, my new favourite thing to do to heal is to fall in love with a piece of humanity. How could I hate this world when I am so in love with it?

[dullahandyke]

Mfw I'm in a dehumanising the mentally ill competition and my opponent is an english major who's just read a short story

[catboyrightsdefender]

flashbacks from when my psychiatrist asked me why i love ludwig so much. bestie look at me. i'm gay bipolar and autistic coded. what's not clicking

[raving-troglodyte]

I am barely holding myself together with Will an Spite, However that simply means thee need burn hotter to reforge what once was and improve

[news4dzhozhar]

I can't imagine the depraved thoughts and information the poor man had to keep to himself for a decade before he just couldn't take it anymore. It's not hyperbole when I say that Netanyahu is a sociopath

[wnjntual]

[mama-kisu]

I hate when I automedicate and it works. Cause that means the only thing keeping me from functioning like a neurotypical would is a dx, that I can’t get because I would be unable to work in my field because my state is ableist.

[c4ssn33dst0sl33p]

the existence of The Arcana: A Mystic Romance (2016) is activley a JoJo reference because it's a story that revolves around characters inspired by and tied to Tarot Cards, much like JJBA Part 3: Stardust Crusaders' Tarot-inspired stand system

[affableramen]

Their chronic illness and health issues (headcanons only)

madman’s note: although i've been studying psychology for 5 years and do have some exp i'm not a professional please mind everything below is headcanon wise

Wriothesley

Gastritis and possibly a stomach ulcer since the time he was a prisoner and had a poor diet

Tartaglia

Physical: Chronic body pain Mental: high chance of PTSD

Baizhu

Hypermobility (Ehler Danlos)

Neuvillette

He should have a better physique because he is a dragon hopefully, but somehow I’m getting Anaemia vibes from him

Pantalone

Physical: diabetes( type 1), asthma (he still smokes though), possibly becoming blind slowly Mental: long-lasting depressive disorder; eating disorder (formerly)

Alhaitham

Problems with hearing, slowly becoming deaf Mental: autism? chronic depression might be as well

Dottore

Physical: arthritis; eczema Mental: ADHD; antisocial personality disorder

Capitano

Chronic fatigue, has to watch energy level (the spoon system)

[sadesluvr]

The Bride — PART ONE.

A routine assassination for turns into a domestic drama when the Twins meet you, a housewife looking to seek revenge on her cheating husband. 

A/N: It's been a while, but here's a new Tangerine fic! It's planned to be 3 parts, and is a slow burn. The title is a reference to Uma Thurman's character in Kill Bill, and the fic has the same vibes. Read the tags, and I hope you enjoy :)

Word count: 1.9K

Tags:  Dysfunctional + abusive relationships (non-physical) / ONE instance of abuse / Eventual romance / Canon-typical violence + language / Reader and The Twins are sociopaths / Dark humour / Murder + revenge / Allusions to mental illness / Jealousy / Eventual smut / Women's wrongs / Friendship

The mission had been poised as one of The Twins’ easiest. There were no guns, no swords, no car chases - just a bit of deception and a drink laced with arsenic handed to some socialite in a golden chalice. Lemon, posing as a bartender, had made the drink, and Tangerine was tasked with delivering it as part of room service. An easy death paired with a quick getaway meant even easier money, which, in their specific case, was to the tune of $10K split between them. 

The Hotel Saratoga was one of the most gorgeous in Havana. It was small, but glamorous, boasting an airy lobby with high cieilings; accented with rich whites, brown furniture and blues and greens, and sky-high views of the surrounding city. As assassins, they’d travelled extensively across the globe, and even though the job sometimes felt oddly glamorous, it was always a haven to be in a place with fresh linens and a working shower. Interacting with some of the biggest scum of the earth, it was far too often they weren’t afforded such a luxury. 

“Mate, I’m gonna need you to be quick with that, yeah?” Lemon whispered, a strained look in his eye as he handed the drink to his brother. “People keep asking me for weird stuff, like an ‘Old Fashioned’ or a ‘Cosmopolitan’…I’ve just be lying ‘n saying that we’re out, but I’m gettin’ through this bottle real quick.” He finished, shaking a half-empty bottle of champagne in the man’s face.  

Tangerine deadpanned, rubbing his chin before looking around cautiously. 

“I’ll deal with it, alright? Just clock off or somethin’ - pass it to the geezer over there.” He said, nodding at an elderly, somewhat ditzy looking gentleman and placing the glass onto a tray. Given Lemon’s affinity for children’s shows and aversion to alcohol, he probably should’ve taken the bartending role, but selfishly wanted to roam the halls of a hotel such as this. They reminded him of all the classic novels he’d read. 

“I can’t,” Lemon said sincerely, and the man furrowed his brows in disbelief. There’s an old woman here…I think she’s taken a fancy for me. Can’t disappoint her, she promised me a tip…” 

There was a silence as the two men stared at each-other, with Lemon’s face wholly genuine and Tangerine’s in utter shock, as if the man were a complete loon. 

“Yeah, well, call me when you’re done, innit?” He said cooly, fixing himself before picking up the tray. “And don’t do nothin’ I wouldn’t do.” He chided. 

“That’s not exactly saying a lot…” 

“Don’t piss me off, Lemon,” he sighed, giving his brother a once over. “I’d rather not act like a madman in a place like this.” 

“We’re assassins, mate. It’s a bit too late for that.” 

Tangerine rolled his eyes, tutting as he left the bar in the direction of the stairs, skilfully navigating himself through the long, seemingly endless corridors, trying desperately not to trip on the patterned antique carpets that lined the floors.  

The ever-changing lights of the building illuminated his face as he strode in search of room 237; bright white, to soft orange to wine red, streaking in the background as if he were going through a tunnel. Considering the nature of his work, it was likely a tunnel to hell. 

The room was second to the end on the top floor. Placing the tray on a small hallway table, he knocked twice, calling out to the individual inside the building. The briefing hadn’t told them much, only that the target was a female, aged 28 but could pass between 26 and 30. Sure enough, someone who fit the description answered. 

Tangerine gave you a once over. You seemed to be a perfect fit; dressed in an elegant white sundress, with shiny jewellery dangling off your ears, wrist and neck. Barefooted, he watched as your feet wriggled, perhaps uncomfortable with the fact that a strange man was at your door bearing a single drink.  

Objectively, you were attractive. But that didn’t mean anything. He wasn’t responsible for caring about you alive, and certainly not when you were dead. He was simply here to do his job, collect his money, and leave. 

“I didn’t order room service…” you spoke, your voice soft as you cocked your head. 

“It was on the house,” he quickly replied. “Some geezer at the bar was handin’ them out. Thought you were a right looker or somethin’…” 

“How did he know where I was staying?” 

“Slid the receptionist some pesos.” 

You didn’t respond, merely humming as he watched you try to figure him out, eventually stepping to the side to let him in. He followed you in with a small nod, giving the room a quick once over as he did.  

Bed, adjoining bathroom, a small kitchen and a balcony...no signs of any intruders. As he looked more carefully, he took note of the items on the various surfaces; half opened make up - the usual - alongside some questionable items, like pair of rubber kitchen gloves and a wad of cash, sticking out from an envelope. 

The whole ordeal was somewhat unnerving, even to a man like Tangerine, simply because you didn’t speak; instead watched him like a hawk from the corner of the room, wringing your hands together as your eyes roamed his body. Unlike what he was used to, it certainly wasn’t lustful; no, yours were impenetrable, wide and somewhat glossy, almost as if you knew you were about to die. 

Cutting the tension, he cleared his throat before he spoke.  

“Enjoy your evening, darlin’.” He said before turning to leave, stopping in his tracks as you called out to him. 

“Wait --” you said, rushing over to pick up the glass and downing it in the sink before handing it back to him pointedly. “Take this with you!” 

The man winced at the sound of liquid seeping down the drain – 250mg of arsenic nonetheless – but kept his composure, shaking his head at you in disbelief. 

“Fucking ungrateful twat, you are,” he snarled. “Some geezer spends money on you, and this is how you repay him? It’s a shocker ‘yer married.” He finished, gesturing his head towards your left ring finger where a diamond wedding band sat. As if the curtain had been lifted, you rolled your eyes and shovelled the glass into his arms, excess liquid spilling onto his suit. 

“I could have you fired and on the streets in no time,” you spat. “Luckily for you, I know you don’t actually work here.” 

Tangerine scoffed, pacing in a small circle before he placed his hands on his hips, ready to sweep out his gun from the holster attached to his waist. Somehow, you knew something was up, and it was clear that as the poisoning plan had been compromised, he was left with two options – a gunshot to the head, or strangulation. 

“If you think I’d fucking waste my time goin’ around and serving drinks to brats like you for fun, you must be daft --” 

“I’ll have you know I stay here three times a year,” you interjected. “I’ve been sleeping with the conciergerie for two years...I would’ve recognised such a face...” you said, fearless as you walked up to him, arms folded across your chest with a snarl wiped across your coloured lips.  

“Who you spread your legs for is not my business, sweetheart,” Tangerine said, voice gravelly as he rolled his eyes, whipping his gun out in the process, the barrel aimed right between your eyes. “Why did ‘yer have to make things so hard?” 

“...I guess my husband didn’t know that then, huh?” you chuckled. “Sorry to ruin your little plan. How much did he offer you?” 

Tangerine paused, gnawing down on the insides of his mouth as he pursed his lips. This just happened to be the type of situation every assassin feared; which was why the general code was to always get in and out as soon as possible. He wasn’t always the best at thinking straight when it came to the thrill of a kill, which was why he ended up lowering the gun, letting out a frustrated sigh in the process.  

It wasn’t all over - he still had the upper hand and could shoot you if he wanted – but that could compromise the mission entirely. The client – your husband, apparently – had requested that it was to be as clean as possible, with your death to look like a bad case of food poisoning rather than a home invasion. 

The man paced again. 

“Alright,” he sniffed. “Humour me, then. How’d you know I was here to off ya?” 

You sucked in your cheeks and shrugged. 

“Let’s just say this isn’t my first time,” you began, walking over the kitchen table as you lit a cigarette, taking a long drag. “He’s a conniving son of a bitch, you know? I’ve been looking over my shoulder ever since I said, ‘I do’.” 

Tangerine shook his head in disbelief. “I ain’t got the foggiest idea what you’re on about love, and if you don’t start talking soon, you’re really gonna piss me off.” 

You huffed, and he watched you drop your cig into an ashtray, putting on the rubber gloves and slamming a wad of cash in-front of him. 

“How much did he offer?” 

“Ten grand,” he replied, hesitantly walking over to you. “Split between me and my brother.” 

“Fucking bastard, am I only worth 5K?” you scoffed, bringing the stick back to your lips and puffing it frustratedly, your narcissism earning an eye roll from the man himself. “Where’s your brother?” 

“Don’t worry,” Tangerine said protectively. He wasn’t about to bring Lemon into a situation that he wasn’t entirely sure wasn’t compromised. Something about you was twisted, devilish, and certainly endearing hiding under a layer of pretty summer dresses, jewellery and a soft voice that could change at an instant. “What’re you saying?” 

“I can double his offer. Ten grand each if you kill him for me...but I need to have a say in what goes.” 

He glanced down at the stack of money before him. Ten grand was a far more enticing offer, but he knew better than to make a deal with the devil – in this case someone he’d just met. How could he be so sure you’d deliver your promise, only to turn him in at the last minute? Even worse, what if you were some kind of spy trying to see how far men like him would go?  

The risks seemed to outweigh the benefits, but he wouldn't completely write you off without talking to Lemon first – for as annoying as his Thomas talk could be, he was undeniably one of the best at reading people. 

Rasping his knuckles on the table, he squared his shoulders. 

“— Alright. I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but clearly there’s some trouble in paradise, and I ain’t sure if I want a part of it, quite frankly. I’m gonna make a call, and when my brother gets here you’re gonna tell us everything you know, got it?” 

You nodded. 

“On mute, are we?” he spat. “This ain’t a bloody game. If we think – or find – that you’re lying, we won’t hesitate to whack you and ‘yer measly little husband, okay?” 

“I understand.” You nodded; eyes wide as you dabbed at the cigarette with your fingertips. The two of you stared at each other for a moment before Tangerine walked away, placing his gun back in the holster before taking out his phone. 

“Right, Lemon...There’s been a bit of a change of plan. I’m gonna need you to come up here, like right the fuck now. There’s a new offer on the table.” 

PART TWO

Comment if you’d like to be tagged in future parts! 🫶🏽

[wonyourdreams]

5:13

Kim Mingyu x Male Reader

Genre: nsfw, suggestive, Angst

Warning/s: Mentions of mental illness, sexual innuendos, groping, unprotected sex

You enter your office humming while flowers on your hand and salad and water on the other

As you reach your table you put everything down and took your phone out of your lab coat

As you were scrolling through it you felt two hands at the side of your waist which made you flinched

“And who are those from?” a familiar voice whispered through your ears

You froze ‘how is he here? what is he doing outside his containment’ you thought

You just stood there as you put down your phone not wanting to upset the gigantic man behind you who is leaning his chin on your head

“Little Prince I asked you a question” he said softly. “F-from a friend” you said scared of whatever the man is planning

“Don’t lie to me prince” he said pulling you closer

“I-I’m not lying, the hospital gave it to me as a welcoming gift” you said trying not to anger the taller male

You’ve been working on this asylum for almost a month now, the tall man behind you is Kim Mingyu, a psychopath, 6'2, 27, No known family member as he was moved here from prison when he was already in his 20s, he's a former gang member who lead an entire heist

They say psychopaths don’t feel anything, but to Mingyu, you were everything, he wanted you, he didn't understand why, all he knows is he wants to kill anyone who tries to get near you

He kissed the back of your head "You've been out the whole day, I missed you"

You gulped trying to find the strength to ask him a question "Gyu?"

He hummed at your sweet call, "Why are you in my office and not in your room?"

He smiles and giggles a bit, "Little Prince, I've been in this asylum for so long, I know every corner and ways of this place"

His hands that were once on your waist started roaming your chest. "Ahh— Gyu stop" You tried to grab his hands

"Sweetheart we've done this thing before why are you resisting now?" He said

It's true as twisted as it is, you have slept with a madman, at least before you knew he was a psycho, before he got in here, you met him at a bar hooked up and tried to keep in touch, frequently texting, calling, phone sex wasn't good enough but it was the only thing you guys could do while being apart

But one day he never called back, for almost two months you thought you'd never see the greatest sex of your life, yes, he was the best, he knew how to eat your ass, his roughness and mix of his gentle caresses, his big cock, you wanted it but sadly you only got to experience it once, your first and last sex

That is until you were assigned to this asylum, the moment he saw you, not even a week he had you, in his room, one leg up and his big cock thrusting inside you, his warm and huge body wrapped around your figure, as if he doesn't want to let go

"I'm gonna cum inside you" He said, "No, please don't" you tried to resist, "Little Prince, that wasn't a question" he grunts and smirked before sloppily filling you up, continuously thrusting to reach his high, "fuck" he whispers in your ears which was your last straw before reaching your high

Your memory was vivid as if it was yesterday, after that hot and rough sex you were covered in bruises and love marks and right now you were sure it would all lead to the same scenario again

He hugged you tighter, "They're coming"

You're brows furrowed at his statement as he stopped playing with your nipples

Suddenly the window of your office was shattered as a man comes in with ropes and guns

Mingyu grabs your phone, salad and water, making sure you still have all you need before carrying you, well dragging, with his other hand

He handed the man in a mask your stuff before Mingyu grabbed the other rope the man handed him

"Let's get out of here my Little Prince" he whispered and just like that you guys were being lifted by the rope inside a helicopter and as you guys seated comfortably the helicopter makes it's escape leaving you stunned and too shocked to react

Mingyu has his arms wrapped around your waist and kissed the side of your temple, "Let's leave the country" he whispered and you couldn't say anything

A/N: This was a draft from 3 years ago, lol

[yardsards]

tired of everyone on here reducing icepick joe down to haha funny stabby man

like i DO like the jokes and memes, don't get me wrong, but like

there's SO MUCH to his character and he really does tie into goncharov's main themes

like. we're told early on the he was put into a mental institution as a young man due to his breakdown and inconsolable grief at losing his older brother giorno (who was his only living family and basically a father figure to him!)

wherein he was mistreated and was HEAVILY IMPLIED to be scheduled for a lobotomy before he escaped. (in fact, some interpretations say he actually received and survived the lobotomy, citing his manner of speaking and his lack of impulse control. but that's a whole separate discussion because i can honestly see both sides)

and then he turns to a life of crime because that's basically the only option he had left, after being deprived of so many opportunities in his youth (and the fear of being caught and involuntarily institutionalized again)

and him eventually leaning into the role of "violent madman" that the world thrust onto him for showing signs of mental illness in a way that was nonviolent, but was loud and inconvenient and impossible for those around him to simply push away.

and him taking his rage out at the same world that not only killed his brother but forced him to undergo years of psychiatric abuse and basically dehumanization

(like seriously, how do SO MANY people miss the connection between him using an icepick as a weapon and the concept of an ICEPICK lobotomy)

which. yknow. ties heavily into the film's theme of people being pushed to society's margins and forced into a life of crime, instead of given the help they desperately needed

and then like.

his fucking death scene. he tries to put a stop to the cycle of senseless violence, taking the fall for andrey, telling michailov that *he* was the one who killed luciana

him kneeling down and allowing michailov to bash him through the skull with his very own icepick. it's more lobotomy symbolism; dying from the very thing he spent his whole life running from. further driving home the film's themes of repeating cycles and futility

and then, to drive it all home, that sacrifice didn't even end up stopping the cycle of violence! because andrey viewed joe as basically an older brother (mirroring joe and giorno) and tried to get revenge on michailov for killing joe.

like. come on.

[dateamonster]

perhaps problematic of me but i still kind of stan the horror movie ax-wielding madman sorry neurospicy type killer in the sense that im intimately familiar with the way neurodivergence and mental illness will force you into one of two boxes: stupid and nice or scary and hostile. and personally i support my fellow freaks in their right to pick the latter.

[thethirdromana]

I think last year I wrote something about how meaningful it is, and what a leap of faith it represents, that Mina chooses to marry Jonathan even when she has no idea when or even if he'll be able to work again. Only unmarried women could be teachers, so her ability to earn money is curtailed by the marriage; she may struggle to support them. It's both a statement of trust that Mr Hawkins will keep to his word and take care of them, and a declaration that - in a very immediate and practical sense - Mina chooses her love for Jonathan over financial security.

What I was less aware of last year is the extent of eugenicist thinking in the 1890s around the marriage of people who were mentally ill. Mina makes it very clear just how unwell Jonathan is:

He is only a wreck of himself, and he does not remember anything that has happened to him for a long time past.

And Jonathan is open about it too:

"I feel my head spin round, and I do not know if it was all real or the dreaming of a madman. You know I have had brain fever, and that is to be mad."

We know that Jonathan's experiences are real, but he doesn't and Mina doesn't. And neither of them knows if he will make a full recovery.

This was at a time when the British Medical Journal published articles claiming that "marriage was often contracted in a blind and reckless way by those who had a strong predisposition to insanity". In a wider discussion, the article suggests that doctors might advise against marriage not just for those known to be mentally ill, but even people "who come of a nervous stock".

I don't want to go into all the horrible things that the medical establishment of the 1890s believed. But I do want to emphasise the extent of Mina's devotion. She travels day and night to get to Jonathan, she spends a small fortune to do so, she sacrifices her career, she marries someone against the advice of a lot of the contemporary medical establishment, and she does it without hesitation.

Mina and Jonathan are both young. It would be entirely respectable and normal for them to stay engaged but wait to marry, to see if Jonathan recovers, to build up savings, to get home. But Mina says a massive fuck you to that and fuck you to contemporary ableism as well, and marries Jonathan precisely as he is.