#but for now he sees the inmates suffering and he has to suffer with them.

[theflashjaygarrick]

It's a missed opportunity that despite Roy Harper and Jason Todd hanging out now there's been never any tension between about them or exploration of their differing approaches and perspectives on the drug crisis. Particularly because for both of them it is deeply personal.

Roy Harper.

Roy became addicted to drugs in the 1971 comic Snowbirds Don't Fly which was Neil Adam’s and Dennis O'neill's attempt to tackle the "youth's greatest problem!" drug use and addiction. I feel like all most people know is that Speedy took drugs and Ollie took it badly, but that honestly ignores the whole point of the story. The story challenged contextual stigma around addiction and drug use as a personal failing or something that only happened to weak people. It explored how it could happen to anyone, even a hero like Speedy. It focused on the social factors such as racism and poverty and how they push people into substance abuse as a way to cope. It even turns the trope of the evil foreign drug cartel on its head by making the guy behind the drug supply a wealthy white American man in who runs a Pharmaceutical company, doesn't do drugs, and actively mocks the people he profits off the suffering of.

The point therefore is twofold. Firstly, drug users are people just like you and me and it is vital to be compassionate to people struggling with addiction. Ollie who yells at and hits Roy and leaves him due to anger and fear is clearly in the wrong. Hal and Dinah who look after Roy and stand beside him at his friend's funeral and as he confronts Ollie are clearly in the right. Secondly, the solution is not to focus on the drugs but instead to deal with the systemic problems of inequality, oppression, trauma and disenfranchised youth.

Despite parts of it ageing bad (the use of slurs was to demonstrate the damage of racism, but I feel uncomfortable having slurs uncensored in a comic book written by white authors) it is a surprisingly progressive take on addiction for a mainstream 70s DC comic. It also clearly demonstrates Roy's opinion on the drug problem and how to deal with it. He sees anger and going after dealers/manufacturers (like Ollie did) to not be enough. Instead the real change comes from helping the people in that situation by improving their lives and compassionately helping them at their worst.

Enter Jason Todd.

For context Jason Todd has had almost his entire life shaped by trauma of substance abuse. His (adoptive) mother Catherine struggled with addiction and overdosed just months before he met Batman, effectively orphaning him. Soon after he was found by Batman who essentially drafted him into his crusade on crime, not considering that being a vigilante may be potentially damaging for an already traumatised child.

But when he came back in UTRH he decided he could best help Gotham if he killed (largely non-costumed) criminals and controlled the city's criminal underworld himself. After violently assuming control of the drug trade, Jason imposed his own rules for dealers, most famously that he would kill anyone who sold drugs to children or near schools. Later while incarcerated Jason Todd killed 82 Blackgate inmates (and harmed over a hundred) by poisoning the prison food. This mass murder was intrinsically indiscriminate and due to the US prison system it is reasonable to assume people charged with drug offences were included in the death count.

Jason does have deep childhood trauma associated with addiction and drug use and wants to help prevent suffering. That being said, his approach treats drugs as a criminal problem to be eradicated or controlled, not just a symptom of deeper social issues. He kills people who sell drugs to kids, rather than helping building a support system so kids aren't pushed into abusing substances to cope and people don't have to deal to survive.

What does this mean?

Scott Lobdell got details of Roy's addiction wrong and distorted him into a reckless idiot who has been ostracised from the community. But if it was done right their interaction and opposing perspectives/experiences could be really interesting. Both hate drugs and the drug trade, but the way they conceptualise this hatred differs significantly.

Roy focuses on helping the individual and addressing deeper social problems, seeing drugs as a devastating but ultimately symptomatic. Jason sees drug use as first and foremost a criminal issue, with true benefits being achieved through controlling the criminal underworld.

Roy's priority is therefore supporting people struggling with addiction and showing compassion for their situation. Jason doesn't really focus on ways to help the individuals suffering from addiction, as much as mitigating the overall harm and fitting the drug trade into parameters he views as acceptable.

I think it would add needed complexity to their relationship (and to Jason's redemption if we're going that route) as well as dealing with the more 'war-on-drug' elements of UTRH. Also it would help Roy stand on his own as a strong, articulate leader with a dark past rather than being (at least for a while) reduced to essentially Jason's sidekick.

[shokami]

babe I need your lucifer morningstar / wriothesley / zhongli / yoUR FAVS HEADCANONS ASAP <333

ONLY IF YOU WANT TO THOUGH!! I love reading your posts! ♥️♥️

COMING INTO MY ASKS LIKE THIS AND TELLING ME TO WRITE IS GOING TO MAKE ME BECOME A FULL TIME WRITER AGAIN. (i’m not complaining, i have so many thoughts i need to get them out)

zhongli

every one tries to uwu-ify zhongli, and i hate it. this man is an archon, one of the oldest. someone who was a warrior. yes, he’s an extinguished gentleman. curtuous, even. i, however, don’t for one second think he’s always like this.

- firm believer that zhongli has to hold himself back, and is quick to anger and frustration, pre current day liyue at least.

- if anyone questioned him, his commands, his leadership, he’d give them a simple look. jaw sat tight, with an expression so unreadable that it would send a chill down their spine, and that alone was enough to silence them.

- in his story quest (i don’t remember if it was his story quest, or an archon quest it was so long ago), he gets aggressive with the fatui when he started to argue. multiple times, he had that look, and stated that “you will suffer the wrath of the rock… you may find it rather unpleasant.” zhongli does not fuck around.

- an aggressive hater of celestia, and the heavenly principals. there were several times post archon war, that he thought about simply handling the issue at hand himself. believed he could, but would be talked down by the other archons, and adepti.

- then the time came where his hand was forced into a contract with the principals. since then, his anger has subsided at least on the external front. every day, he tries to find a way out of that contract without breaking his own morals, and his own meaning as the god of contacts himself.

- now listen. zhongli stepped down from being an archon, but that does not mean he is no longer a god. the gnosis does not equal godhood. while i believe that he did step down because liyue was entering a godless era, i believe he did it for his own selfish reasons as well. zhongli is known for his intelligence, and he knows that war is coming. in one of ei’s voice lines, she states that she believes his story is far from over. i believe that to be true, he has his own plots, and i think he intends to assist the tsaritsa in taking down the heavenly principals. whether it be directly, or indirectly. he’s up to something. he knows far more than he states. his power has not dwindled one bit.

- zhongli hates the idea of erosion, despite talking about it so casually. i think that it terrifies him. that the thought that one day, all of his memories could fade, and that he’d no longer remember. because of that. due to this, the adepti have began to keep journals, or other forms of keeping track of his retellings. each of them have their own version, so that if one day, rex lapis does not remember his own stories, they will be able to remind him bit by bit.

wriothesley

- oh this man has got a past. the orphanage was not pleasant to him. not in the slightest. wrio blames himself for not noticing sooner. not seeing that some children left, and didn’t return. once he began piecing things together, he knew what he was going to do. he couldn’t allow these things to happen, even though he himself was also a child.

- when it came time for him to kill the parents of the orphanage, he didn’t even hesitate. it happened so quickly. it was brutal, messy. a child can’t carry out something clean, and effortlessly. after releasing the other children, he turned himself in.

- wriothesley has ptsd from this, and reoccurring nightmares. not from the murder, but from the children he couldn’t protect sooner. due to that, his sleeping patterns are not good, and borderline unhealthy. instead, he busies himself with work, and fights in the pankration ring.

- now, when wrio got sentenced to the fortress, it was unpleasant for a child. at first. i think rather quickly, he gained the trust of other inmates. inner circles. it taught him quickly about survival. about calculation, gave him cunning traits, and taught him how to deal his cards just right.

- once his sentence was done, he stayed and became the warden. he wanted to change the fortress. i like to think that the warden before him wasn’t a good person, and that the conditions of the underwater prison weren’t great. once he took over, he changed it all. he likes to view it as more of a rehabilitation center, than a prison.

- the scars on wrios neck are definitely from the orphanage, and i refuse to believe otherwise. perhaps something that happened when he first found out what was happening. he confronted the parents, and ended up with those scars from something terrible. it damaged his vocal cords quite a bit (going off that one hc i saw on tiktok awhile ago that i don’t remember where it came from). the scars cause him quite the bit of discomfort sometimes, it’s a mild irritation. that’s why sigewinne tries to give him those gross health shakes to drink. its a remedy for the soreness.

- during his story quest, the traveler asked if he uses the iron fists in his fight in the pankration ring. he said not always, but sometimes you’ve gotta do what you gotta do right? that man is NOT above playing dirty. he’s an undefeated champion in that ring, and when anyone hears they’re facing him, they’re terrified.

- ^ HOWEVER. he’s decent enough to take those he defeats to the head nurse, get them treatment, and ensure they’re doing fine afterwards. in his trailer, we see him giving them handshakes, nods of acknowledgment. he doesn’t fight to be an asshole, it’s to keep the respect, and well- also a distraction for himself.

- now, if i see one more person say that wriothesley is the type to listen to hardcore rock music, i’ll scream. when we are in his office, he put on music that was similar to that of jazz. wrio is a jazz man, classics, instrumentals. it’s calming to him. firm believer that this man would listen to something like sway by michael bublé religiously.

- even though i believe that wriothesley has it in him to be a gentle man, a gentle lover, i can still acknowledge other aspects about him. he’s a flirt. have you seen how confident that man is? he’s shameless. he knows he’s attractive, and he knows how to sway someone so effortlessly. sinful french falls from his lips like it’s second nature, with such a gentle touch that it could have anyone in the palm of his hand and he knows it.

- he’s so busy with the work of the fortress though, that he doesn’t believe he has time for anything that’s actual romance. i’m not saying that he sleeps around (don’t give this man the gojo treatment guys), he simply flirts and sometimes he doesn’t even know he’s doing it. due to his schedule of business in the fortress, if he did end up developing feelings for someone, i believe it would be someone who either frequents the fortress for work, works there directly, or someone who just as much as of a work ethic as him. he needs someone who understands how hectic it is, so that he doesn’t feel neglectful for not being able to supply his full attention to a partner.

- okay my last one for wrio may be a stretch. i’m not 100% sure of the past of the fortress of meropede, so i can’t say if its symbol has always been the three headed dog of cerberus. however, i like to hc that it only became that after wriothesley became the duke. the symbol of cerberus means the past, the present, and the future. wrios past in the orphanage/the way the fortress operated before him, the present day of his control of things, and the future that he sees for the prison and its inmates. cerberus is the gate keeper, a symbol of loyalty, devotion, tenacity, and protection despite being perceived as a terrifying figure to others. i believe that’s how wrio see’s himself.

lucifer

ANOTHER MAN PEOPLE TRY TO UWU-IFY. STOP IT! HES THE LITERAL FUCKING DEVIL YOU MFS.

- lucifer is the original sin. pride. you cannot be the king of hell, and not have your mind plagued in darkness, full of sin, and questionable morals surrounding your duties.

- in the pilot episode, everyone believed that he wasn’t a good person, that he abandoned charlie, that he was rough, that he didn’t care about the sinners, and only wanted control.

let me tell you why, to an extent, that’s still true.

- lucifer tried to convince charlie that the sinners were awful, terrible people. he did not want her involved, and tried to deter her away from the path of redemption for hells inhabitants. he firmly believed that. i think he still believes that, but, he was slightly swayed by charlie’s words and beliefs. after lilith left him, he became secluded. lucifer wasn’t present as a father. right now, he’s trying to reconcile that, and support her despite not believing in her views himself.

- now, i think that part of the reason why lilith left him was due to his views. with how charlie talks about her, she had similar views as her once upon a time. lilith didn’t like that lucifer viewed the sinners as disposable. it angered her, so she left and that hurt him beyond compare.

- how could anyone expect lucifer to have full faith in redemption for the sinners, believe they were worthy of anything? lucifer is the original sin, they exist because of him. how could he face them, have any love in them, when it only reminded him of his failures as an angel, it reminded him of his pain, his tarnishment of his once devine place? he is pride, of course he can’t face them.

- i also read somewhere once in biblical lore, that without sinners, the seven deadly sins powers would dwindle. if people did not have pride, if they weren’t ridden in that sin, lucifer could lose a portion of his power overtime, be weakened. i personally like this, because that’s a solid reason why he wouldn’t want anyone to be redeemed.

- lucifer was abandoned, tossed aside by his father, by his brothers, for what? having a different opinion, wanting to offer different views. in result, it created darkness, pain, it created hell. lucifer is the cause of it. he carries heavy burdens, guilt, eons of trauma. for a millennia, the only thing he has seen is the pain, and the darkness of others in people he tried to defend.

- i need to see his rage, i need to his anger, his darkness, and inside his mind. i know it’s there, and its aching to be released. give me the fight between him and heaven. lucifer is one of the strongest beings in creation, show me his power.

not related to any of that, however!!

there’s a song called whisper by burn the ballroom that i believe fully captures the idea of falling in love with lucifer.

- “so give me your fire, give me your fear, give me your faith when love gives you tears. give me your heart, give me your fate, give me your hand when love gives you hate. give me your prayers up on your feet, and i’ll give you a show it helps fill the seats. so give me your sins, give me your lies, but whisper your love and i’ll whisper mine.” lucifer is so debated after lilith, that falling in love with someone who accepted his sins, his darkness, his rage- it was so foreign. it terrified him of that loss again. he needs someone who understands that depth, his reasoning, his hesitations, his views.

- additionally, the song had a line that says: “and he cries out to god, how could you claim them all when i know that they’re all mine?” this goes hand and hand with my view of lucifer not wanting to redeem sinners for the sake of his power. additionally, imagine how hurt and pissed off he would be when the first sinners get redeemed. how could god, how could heaven accept those redeemed back into the heavenly gates so willingly, but have turned their backs on him with a second of hesitation or his own chance of redemption?

GOD I LOVE LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR

i am so in love with all of these characters, they are so complex, with so much depth and characteristics to analyze. i’m snorting it all like crack 24/7 <3

[beardedmrbean]

The first known survivor of China’s forced organ harvesting campaign against religious prisoners said he was now ready to speak out and expose the “evil” of the Chinese Communist Party.

Cheng Pei Ming, 58, who will talk publicly for the first time in Washington on Friday, described how he still feels “extreme pain” 20 years after parts of his lung and liver were forcibly removed.

“I believed they would kill me. I’m not sure they thought I could survive, but I did,” Mr Cheng told The Telegraph as he took off his shirt to expose a scar that wraps around his chest all the way to his back.

Mr Cheng says he was detained and tortured for years by the Chinese state for practising Falun Gong, a spiritual movement founded in the early 1990s. 

The movement swept across the country, but was outlawed in 1999 and then brutally suppressed by the Chinese Communist Party (CCP), which branded it an “evil cult” and a threat to the state. 

Beijing has long viewed religious groups as a threat to social order and the party’s ideological grip on power. 

In the decades after Falun Gong was banned and its followers were persecuted, China’s organ transplantation industry exploded. Vital organs became readily available within a matter of days in state-run hospitals – a timeframe no national transplantation system elsewhere in the world has ever been able to achieve.

In 2019, an independent tribunal in London ruled that the Chinese government continued to commit crimes against humanity by targeting minorities, including the Falun Gong movement, for organ harvesting. 

The CCP has denied accusations of organ harvesting and repeatedly denied that Falun Gong practitioners have been killed for their organs.

But in 2021, UN human rights experts reported that along with Falun Gong practitioners, other minorities had been targeted, including Uyghurs, Tibetans, Muslims and Christians in detention in China.

Mr Cheng said he could not understand why they would crack down on a religion that promoted peace.

“Falun Gong teaches people to be good and to have compassion and empathy for all people. We mean no harm to society, the persecution against us should have never happened,” he said.

After 14 years of evading Chinese authorities, including five years in Thailand where he was granted UN refugee status, Mr Cheng reached the US in July 2020.

Mr Cheng was first arrested in September 1999. He said he was tortured and told to give up his faith and that when he refused he was expelled along with his family from his home in the eastern province of Shandong.

In the years that followed, he was “kidnapped by the CCP” five times, each time suffering “unbearable” torture, he said.  

“I remembered asking: ‘Why don’t you kill me instead?’ And they said: ‘It is too easy, we get great pleasure in torturing you’,” Mr Cheng said.

In 2002, he was sentenced to eight years in jail. He recalled seeing other Falun Gong inmates disappear. Some were sent to so-called “re-education” labour camps; others were tortured to death.

In July 2004, Mr Cheng said he was dragged into a hospital where agents from the CCP’s infamous 610 office – dubbed “China’s gestapo” – tried to make him sign consent forms. When he refused, they knocked him down and put him to sleep.

His family was told that he was undergoing surgery and had a 20 per cent chance of survival.

Mr Cheng woke up three days later, terrified, shackled to a bed, and with a 35cm incision across his chest. Transplant experts have since confirmed that scans show sections of Mr Cheng’s liver and left lung were surgically removed.

Two years later, prison guards took him back to hospital. “There was no reason for them to operate, so I understood I would be killed. My family were told I had swallowed knives and wasn’t likely to survive.”

But an unexpected opportunity presented itself for escape. His guard had fallen asleep, so Mr Cheng made a run for it. 

For nine years, “I lived a life of escape and hiding under false names”, he said, adding that the CCP “wanted to find men and kill me to cover up what they had done”.

He eventually escaped to Thailand where “I felt I could have been killed anytime”, Mr Cheng said. He only felt safe once he reached US soil in 2020.

In June, the US House passed The Falun Gong Protection Act, which aims to force an end to the persecution of Falun Gong by the CCP as well as forced organ harvesting from apprehended practitioners of the faith.

Mr Cheng, whose family largely remains in China, still cannot feel parts of his chest, and he struggles on a daily basis with shocks of pain that ripple through his body.

But he is now ready to tell his story. “I want the world to know how evil the CCP is. It does not only seek to harm people in China, but the world. I have to expose what has happened to the Falun Gong.”

Dr Charles Lee, a leading advocate for the Falun Gong movement, who himself was arrested and tortured for his beliefs by the CCP in 2003, told The Telegraph that the importance of Mr Cheng’s testimony cannot be overstated.

“We heard reports for decades about the extremely inhuman treatment Falun Gong faced, those that were tortured to death, their bodies cut open and organs missing. But now we have the first live witness.”

He added: “This should be an alarm to people and governments around the world that the CCP does not care for human lives.”

[a-whispering-echo]

For the Death's Row AU, any chance we could get a look at exactly what led Killer to ending up on the Row? We got a look at Dust and Horror's, and I can't deny I'm very curious how Killer's looks as well 👀

Your art is super cool and I'm thriving on the story for this au so far! Im glad I stumbled upon it :)

oh absolutely! ive been waiting for someone to ask, hehe!

So, Killer was raised in a a slum/house thing with 12 other people, maybe they were his family, maybe they weren't, who knows. Regardless, one of the other kids in the slum started to pick on him.

They were younger than him, and for a while, Killer just kinda ignored them, assuming it was a little kid just trying to make friends in a shitty way, but, as the years went on, this kid started outright ABUSING him, in horrible, HORRIBLE ways - any way you can think of someone being abused? Yeah, this kid did it. They outright tortured him, for their entire childhood.

Killer went to the police, and tried to report what was happening to him, so many times, and each time, he was laughed at and told to stop wasting their time; a kids picking on you? yeah right, piss off kid.

It gets to the point where this kid forced Killer to watch as they beat someone to a pulp, before they drag Killer over, and tells him to kill them, its in his name, after all! and, they threaten, if they don't, they'll kill him.

anyway, Killer does it. That's his first kill, and miraculously, he doesn't get caught for it.

The abuse goes on an on and on, years and years of gaslighting into believing himself a weapon, and 'peer pressure' on max, until, he snaps and kills his abuser.

he ends up just fucking loosing it after that, with a 'fuck it' attitude, hes gonna get caught anyway, and kills a bunch of people that he believes were complacent in the abuse. he ends up killing 4 people, including the kid, before hes caught.

In court, Killer tries to defend himself, explaining the abuse he suffered for YEARS, and the help he was denied. but the courts found him guilty of murder, after all, his 'abuser' was a minor; he must be lying, and, even if he wasn't, that doesn't change anything.

So, onto death row he goes.

He can be sassy and unserious most of the time, but there's an aura of wrongness to him.

He uses that uses his 'personality' to hide what hes feeling but also when hes snooping for information. His only really motivation is to avoid boredom; hes very much trying to avoid being left alone with himself and his thought, cus that's when he starts to spiral:

He doesn't care that he murdered, and doesn't regret it; in fact he found it thrilling. He REALLY struggles with emotions, finds it hard to feel things deeply, and to recognise WHAT hes feeling, but he doesn't regret it! He doesn't feel... bad about what he did to... to those innocent people... NO! he really doesn't!

He also very much wants power, after so long without any, and being told that he was *supposed* to kill, that was all he was - hes named 'Killer' for god sake!

He just wants to feel alive. Even if, just for.. a little while...

He know to cause physical fights all the time with other inmates, doing to as an outlet for those emotions he definitely doesn't feel, but also as a way to climb to the top. He RUNS the Row! HES the one in charge - hes not, that's Nightmare but shh, let him believe that.

He meets Dust and Horror when they're friends, and, always looking for new prey, decides to pick on them.

hes had a few fights with Dust before now, hes partially the reason Dust is in a straightjacket, and Dust is partly the reason hes in handcuff/chains, but he hasn't seen him about for a little while, and, when he sees him again, his little punching back has attached himself to the biggest motherfucker the joint, little shit. Well, Killer decides he should take them down a peg. Horror is a threat to his dominance here, anyway!

(Horror has no clue who this dude is, other than *trouble*. Hes seen the fights this guy get into, and they're not GOOD)

it starts off with Killer picking on them, teasing in that was that's common in his character, and it looks like Horror is gonna defend Dust, as he is wont to do, except, no one was expecting little Dust, who's top of head only reaches Killers EYES, in his straightjacket, restricting him movement, to fucking roundhouse kick Killer in the neck. His arms may be restrained, but his legs sure aren't!

And Killer... runs off to lick his wounds.

Except, he comes back to ick on them. again, and again and again.

Killer is picking on them the way young boys try and 'flirt' with girls they like; pulling on their pigtails. he thinks they're kinda cool, and is envious of their friendship, and wants IN, thing is, he ain't gonna just TELL them that! hes not gonna sit down and ask 'hey can we be friends?' cus that would make him WEAK, so, he pushes them about as an excuse to get close to them.

About a month after the roundhouse kick incident, Killer comes to pick on them again, with a bandage around his throat despite it DENIFETLY being healed by now, and starts boasting about his kill count; four whole people in a single day! and hes expecting them to look up at him, scared or maybe admiring.

Hes not expecting Dust to look at Horror, make that little smile people make when they're making fun of someone - that 'oh my god this guy' face - and...laughs? Hes giggling like a madman, and even Horror looks amused, when Dust says "Four?!" and Killers like '??? yeah, four whole people, dead cus of me!' which just makes Dust laugh harder.

Dust has recently been made aware of his accidental kill count, and while he still cant get his head around most of it and forgets a lot of it, he knows he killed a dozen in a matter of like, a couple hours, and he knows Horror killed 5 people, cut them up and COOKED them, and FED THEM to starving people!

Four murders is PATHETIC.

Killer tries to reclaim his pride, and is sort of going like 'well, yeah, but uh like-' and Dust just keeps laughing at him, and at that point Killer flushed bright red and.. leaves.

Im gonna stop here, cus ive written A LOT! But, they find Killer int the bathroom :)

(im very gladyou like my art and works! it means the world that i can entertain someone at least for a little while with my stuff, and that fact you take time out of your day to appreciate them and compliment me is just... auugh <3 <3!)

[bythenineshards]

Suffering Fools

Summary: The new Doctor in Impel Down gives her patient a hand.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Minors DNI

Tags: Buggy x OC, Canon x OC, Buggy x Syre

A/N: So this wasn't initially going to be smut, but it happened. It's not my best, but I hope y'all enjoy it. I said I would post it here, and I ain't a liar lol. So here it is. Stupid sexy clown.

Syre stuck out like a sore thumb in Impel Down. It took a few days for her to find the right words to describe how she felt, but when she did, it was like a slap to the face. Soft. Amid the torture, harsh stone walls, monsters, and even more monstrous guards, she felt soft. She supposed that was a good quality for a doctor to have, but it didn’t stop her from feeling out of place. When she’d joined the Marines, the goal had been to travel and help her comrades after battle. Not be stuck in a hellish prison. She had her theories as to how she’d gotten these orders, but the fight wasn’t worth the effort.

She eased back in her chair and blew out a breath. Paperwork all morning, and the stack mocked her with more into the afternoon. It was probably wrong for a doctor to wish for something to whisk her away from her desk. Only paperwork meant no one had been hurt enough to come see her. That was something else that rubbed her the wrong way. Tending to the guards that were hurt was one thing. Seeing the prisoners and mending their injuries for the purpose of giving them more suffering felt cruel even as a punishment.

The door to the infirmary swung open with unnecessary force, causing Syre to scramble to her feet. A single guard had kicked in the door and brought a prisoner into the infirmary slung over his shoulder. Syre watched as the guard, a hulking man of little rank, carelessly dropped the blue haired prisoner on the examination table. She moved closer cautiously, “What has happened?”

The guard began to strap the prisoner to the table. Syre had a variety of words she wished to impart about his roughness. All of them culminated in her raising hand with a singular finger outstretched to point out his mistakes, but she thought better of it. She got the feeling that trying to explain the possible repercussions of manhandling this inmate like a sack of potatoes that owed him money, was going to have the same effect as doing likewise with the lamp on her desk.

“Don’t know. Best guess? He got lippy with some of the men, and they took offense.” The guard stood back and admired his work, arms crossed with pride.

Syre pushed in close to the prisoner. Pulling out a pen light and gingerly lifting his eyelids. The pupils were responsive, that was good. “And you let this happen?”

“Why does it matter? He’s a pirate. A good pop in the mouth was good for him.” The guard replied, scratching the back of his neck.

She held back the string of insults she had been building and blew out an irritated sigh. At a cursory glance, the damage wasn’t too bad. But definitely more than a pop in the mouth. A few of the cuts needed to be cleaned, and his face was difficult to examine with the paint. Who was giving him paint? As she cataloged his injuries, he began to stir. Syre couldn’t help the smile she gave him. It had become a habit in her training as a physician. It was a little silly in this place, she thought, but her bedside manner wasn’t going to just walk out the door because she worked in a prison.

Buggy woke with a throbbing headache. There was something cold against his back and a tightness across his chest and encircling his wrists and ankles. The pain and discomfort were pushed from the forefront of his mind when he saw the woman standing over him. He’d heard from other men that Impel Down had gotten a new doctor, and now he understood the comments that she looked like she tasted sweet. Her hair was a lovely shade of pastel pink. It reminded him of cotton candy, and the chin length curls only added to that image. Their eyes met, and a smile touched her lips freely. Her eyes were brown and radiated a warmth that he wasn’t typically accustomed to.

“Good morning,” She said. Her accent was like poetry, “I am Doctor Syre Bon-”

“He doesn’t need to know your name. Just fix him up and call for us when he’s done,” the guard interrupted. Buggy eyed the man despite the strap across his forehead.

Syre pressed her lips in a tight line. Her eyes narrowed on the guard, but she stopped that building cacophony of disdain from getting past her lips. “Very well,” she said curtly.

She began to ready a tray of instruments, mostly for cleaning wounds, and set to work sterilizing them when she realized the guard hadn’t departed. Syre stopped working, and her eyes flicked up to the man standing there.

“Can I help you?” She asked.

“Yeah, I was wondering,” His voice stammered slightly which was an odd juxtaposition to the way he leaned on the table, “when you’re done for the day, did you want to join me and some of the others for drinks? It’s just a few-”

“No, thank you.” Her response was blunt, and her eyes, surprisingly cold, went back to her work.

“It’s just a few of us-”

Syre interrupted with a clipped tone, “I gave you my answer. I will call for assistance when I am finished with this prisoner. Before you leave my infirmary, could you tell me his number? I need to document this incident.”

Buggy’s cheeks inflated with the laugh about to burst out of him like a balloon. The guard raised his hand to strike him for his insolence, and Buggy swallowed the laugh. Syre cleared her throat sharply, “You will not do harm to my patient. The number, then you will leave.”

The man looked from Buggy to Syre, weighing his options and considering the temptation to hit the bound clown. He lowered his hand and said, “Prisoner E-8200.”

“Thank you.” She replied, still short and frigid.

The guard nodded and left the infirmary. When the door closed, Buggy blew a raspberry in his direction, then struggled against the strap to face her. He caught her just in time to see the momentous eye roll she’d been holding back. She rose from her chair beside the examination table to cross to the desk. Buggy took the opportunity to watch the way her coat swished with the sway of her hips. She was petite but no less beautiful, and watching her walk was a highlight of today he hadn't expected. He stopped staring as she thumbed through the files and found his. The entire time, she was muttering something under her breath. He couldn’t quite hear the words, but the tone of them was thoroughly disgruntled.

“Ah! Here we are,” She said, “Prisoner E-8200… Oh, that is such a mouthful…”

He heard her going through the pages of his file as she walked back at a slower pace.

“You could call me by my name,” He suggested with an impish grin and waggle of his eyebrows. He wanted to hear her say his name.

“And what is your name?” She asked, plunking back down into the chair. They both knew it was right there in the file, but she was choosing to treat him like a person.

“You can call me Buggy, Dollface,” he replied with a wink, “Buggy the Clown.”

“Buggy, Buggy the Clown,” she repeated, as if tasting his name on her tongue. She smiled down at him, “As long as you do not tattle on me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Buggy purred with a smirk bordering on wicked.

Her face had softened noticeably with the departure of the brute that brought him in. She had gone quiet and was cleaning the instruments again. As she cleaned, Syre took stock of him. He was tall, but that was by far the least interesting thing about him. His hair was a gorgeous blue, and despite it being a bit of a mess, she thought it was very pretty. It just needed to be brushed and pulled up to help it from getting tangled. He had painted on a big red smile and two bones crossed on his forehead, reaching just to the corners of his eyes. These were accompanied by red marks down the center of his blue eyes. Again, who was giving him paint for these? This was still not mentioning the most apparent trait of his. At first, she had thought the guards or his fellow inmates had managed to glue a big red ball on his nose, and she was pondering how best to extract it without causing him pain. However, after a longer survey of his face, she came to realize it was his true nose. It would be comical if she didn’t find it so deeply charming. It fit him perfectly.

“Does that happen often?” Buggy asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Hm?” She asked, his question dragging her out of her musings about his appearance. “Which part?”

“The coming on to you?” He replied, picking which one to inquire about first.

She gave a lazy shake of her head that set the curls bouncing. The gesture wasn’t a no but more to suggest she was outwardly combing her recent memories. It was accompanied by a strangled sound that led into her saying, “Enough for it to be irritating…”

He nodded in understanding.

“The ones that just use words are not the worst. It’s the few that think smacking me on the behind will instantly fill me with desire that truly anger me. What are they thinking?” She made a gesture like she was swinging to spank someone on the ass and gasped a little, “Oh yes, please, take me I’m yours.”

She rolled her eyes again and muttered something else under her breath.

“Maybe they’re just trying to make it a win-win situation. You might say yes, you’re more likely to say no, they got to spank you either way.” He teased.

She smirked, but he didn’t get the laugh he’d been aiming for. With the tools clean, she leaned forward and took a deep breath. Beginning to clean the most egregious of the lacerations, “Poor thing…”

“You should see the other guy.”

“The other guy is not in my infirmary,” Syre said tartly, indicating to the other examination tables in the room. Buggy’s smug smile drooped like a birthday cake left in the rain. Her eyes were smiling, and it slipped to her lips with a giggle when she met his eyes. He watched as she fought the bubbling of laughter like the fizz of champagne. Attempting to quell the laughter, she took a slow, giggle laced breath to calm herself. She thought it was probably against protocol to joke with inmates, but the joy never left her beautiful eyes.

“Don’t look so glum, Mon Cher, you’ll make a full recovery.”

“Yippee.” Buggy replied unamused.

“Just try to play nice with the other boys.” She said, wiping up the blood. She chewed on her lip, and Buggy had the thought that he’d like to be that lip. “Though… I think this one is going to need stitches.”

Syre leaned over him to get a better look. Being at this proximity treated him to the smell of her perfume. It was sweet but in a cozy way, like warm vanilla but more subtle. It also occurred to him that she was nearly chest to chest with him. Her body was as soft as her glance was tender. She was debating the stitches while cleaning the cut and breathed, “Probably for the best that I do. Are you alright with that?”

“You’re the doc.” He replied, attempting to get comfortable on the table. Syre hated the cold tables. She thought they should at least have a pillow. It was just her luck that she would leave home to heal people and end up helping them to suffer more.

She slid her chair across the floor to the cupboard where the needles and thread were kept.

“There will not be many. I doubt it will scar,” Syre tried to reassure him then cocked a brow playfully, “Unless you wish for it to scar. I can do them messily and make it look rather fearsome.”

“And ruin all this handsome?” He scoffed.

“Fair enough,” She shrugged and went to begin the process.

Buggy squirmed away as best as he could with the leather strap, “Whoa there, Sweets! Aren’t you gonna do anything to numb me?”

Syre sat back, “I can not. I’m under strict orders to only use numbing agents on staff. They’re kept under lock and key, and I have yet to figure out how to jimmy open the lock. I am sorry…”

Buggy inhaled a long breath and released it with a raspberry, making Syre smile just a smidge.

“I will do my best to not make it hurt.”

His face told her without words that he didn’t believe that was possible. When she leaned back over him, he didn’t squirm, indicating a tiny bit of trust. “Good, Mon Cher, stay still.”

She could tell he was nervous. No part of her faulted him for that. It was one thing to get an injury by accident and another to watch with anticipation for it to happen. She tried to set him at ease by speaking, bringing up the first thing to pop into her head.

“I was on leave back home when I got my orders to come here,” she started, “They sent me the protocols so I could prepare myself and be informed before arriving. When I read the policy regarding pain, I ranted to my mother for a good hour.”

Buggy hissed with pain, and she stopped, an apology clear in her eyes.

“Keep talking, Dollface.” He demanded, wanting this to be over but enjoying the sound of her voice. It was like listening to a song. He didn’t understand some of the words she said but her inflection was damn near affectionate.

“She asked me what I was going to do? You see, my family was not thrilled that I studied to be a doctor and wanted to join the Marines. Obviously, seeing me so unhappy with my orders, I wanted to travel, and this is not travel. She was hoping that I would quit or refuse and stay home. I knew that was her intention, so I said that I would do what she used to do when my sisters or I got hurt.”

“Which was?” Buggy managed to say through gritted teeth.

A ghost of a smile touched her lips, “I said I would kiss and make it better,” she had to stop stitching due to her own laughter, “You should’ve seen the look on her face. It took me hours to convince her it was a joke.”

“I don’t know, Doll, I think it’s the least you could do considering you’re stabbing me in the face.”

Syre stopped, taken aback by the glint in his eyes. She felt her cheeks getting hot. Why had she told that story? She fought her now, shaking hands to finish quickly.

“All done.” She announced. More for herself than for him. “I will call for the guard-”

“Please don’t. Not yet.” Syre couldn’t help the pang in her heart hearing the plea in his voice, a finger plucking the ridiculous chord of sympathy in her.

She tried in vain to tuck a pale pink curl behind her ear, “I suppose I could…” She searched her mind for something she could do that would take time when her eyes fell on his hair, “Check you for lice?”

“I don’t have lice!” He spat back, thoroughly offended. “What kind of imbecile are you!? What next? Gonna make fun of my nose, huh?!”

Syre flicked his nose. “Of course not. But I should probably check. Do you mind if I comb your hair?”

The offense left his face immediately, finally back up to speed. It had been ages since he was able to brush his hair, and pure stubbornness had kept him from just cutting it.

“Not at all.”

“Good.”

Syre disposed of the needle and rummaged through her drawers, looking for a comb. She wouldn’t say it, but she was a tad giddy to rid his hair of the tangles. It was such pretty hair. Returning to her chair, she swiveled it to the head of the table and unbuckled the strap across his forehead. She gave him a moment to roll his neck while she formed a game plan. A quick look told her he didn’t, in fact, have lice, but she wasn’t about to tell him that she looked.

One by one, she tugged the fingers of her gloves loose and set the pair on the table beside his head. With the help of lifting his head, Syre gathered up all of his hair so that it cascaded off the edge of the table. She separated a lock and combed through it as gently as she could. If it snagged, she held just above and worked out the tangle until the comb went through with little resistance. The two of them were quiet for a long time. Syre wasn’t sure when his eyes had closed, but she didn’t mind. No matter what he had done, Impel Down was no joke. She wouldn’t begrudge him this respite.

“You mentioned you have sisters?” He asked, his tone calmer than before. Thoroughly enjoying the sensation of his hair being brushed.

“Mhm, two of them. Marie and Avery. I am the eldest.”

“All of you have pretty pink hair?”

“You think my hair is pretty?” She teased lightly.

He gave her a look that even upside down made her heart hop into her throat. Her cheeks were hot again, but this time, she was less worried. A comb wasn’t exactly the same as a needle.

“Yes,” She managed to squeak out, “we all do.”

Another silence was starting to build when Syre blurted in an embarrassed little voice, “You have pretty hair too…”

“I know I do, Baby.”

“Is it your natural color?” She asked.

“Why don’t you check for yourself?”

Syre allowed the nervous giggles but didn’t say anything more. With most of the tangles out of his hair, she placed the comb next to her gloves. She sat there for a long moment, biting her lower lip. Before reason or protocol could hinder her, she sank her fingers into his hair. Buggy let out a soft moan, and Syre let herself enjoy that sound low in her belly. Her fingertips drew swirls over his scalp, leading into her nails doing the same or giving him tight scritches. She ran her fingers down the tresses, blue strands slipping through her fingers like silk. Once they reached the end, she returned to massaging his scalp only to repeat their descent. Syre had been focused solely on his hair thus far, but the sound of the straps binding the rest of him being fought caused her to look up.

Her breath caught. She hadn’t noticed the growing tightness in his striped pants nor the writhing he had begun against his binds. Now Syre was doing a poor job of pretending not to notice. She was practically staring at it.

“Oh…” She whispered, “Should I stop?”

“Don’t.”

Syre tried not to look at it, but the breathy moan from before had led into ragged breathing, and primal instinct knew its call. Her face was on fire and grew hotter with each arch of his neck. Her fingers withdrew but were halted with a desperate whimper of, “No…”

“I really should stop…” She said, the blush clear in her voice, “You’re…”

He arched his neck enough to look her in the eyes. There was that gleam again. It sent her heart racing. Hungry, pleading, and looking to her for salvation. “Touch me…” He begged.

Syre gasped, her voice bordering on shrill, “What?”

“Please,” he added, “I can’t do it myself, or I would.”

“That’s obscene and crass and completely inappropriate,” she said, looking around the room, lingering on the door. Anything but looking at those eyes.

“C’mon Sweet girl,” Buggy purred, “Help me.”

Syre blinked, “I couldn’t.”

She tried to ignore it. Taking one of the few leftover hair ties she kept for her sister's hair emergencies and pulled his hair into a hasty ponytail. Syre was about to apologize for the color when she caught sight of his erection. It was still masked by the pants, but she was so tempted.

“Is there anything else I can do to help it go away?”

“Hand, mouth, over the pants or under, I don’t care. Please, Doc.”

She swiveled the chair around so that she was at his side. Her eyes momentarily brushed over the space between his stomach and the slight lift in his pants. A dusting of blue hair led down further, but she ripped her gaze back to his face, “That’s not what I meant. Is there-”

“Please…”

They’d taken so long already. A guard could come by to check on them at any time. If one of them showed up and he was this…aroused, Syre couldn’t see a way for him not to get the shit kicked out of him. Not wanting to do more harm than good, she bit her lip and slid her hand into his pants.

Syre wasn’t inexperienced with love affairs. Over the years, she’d had a few trysts, stolen a handful kisses, and even had a fumbling in the dark a time or two. This was much much different than any of those. There was a tension here that felt raw. She was stroking the cock of a prisoner housed in Impel Down. And he was looking at her with a hunger she wasn’t sure she could handle. His eyes, his history, his cock in her hand, all of it felt so deliciously wicked. A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.

“Oh Sweet Girl,” He moaned, arching off the table and elongating his neck into a curve. His hips pushed up into her hand. Each thrust inched the pants off, exposing his cock completely.

Hearing his tender words made the butterflies in her stomach flutter. He was so hard. She'd never felt such a thrill. "A-am I doing it right?"

It wasn’t exactly a hard task. She just felt so damn awkward.

He gave a moan mixed with a chuckle in response. She wasn't exactly sure what to say. This was new for her, but there was a part of her that was enjoying it, "Is there anything else I can do to help?"

“Kiss me.” He pleaded.

“I couldn’t…” She replied with a nervous laugh.

“But you want to. I can hear it in your voice. You’ve come this far. So why don’t you be a good girl and give me a kiss?”

Syre swallowed hard. She was already stroking him. Wasn't that supposed to be later, and a kiss came first? All of this was wrong. Why should she stop now?

"C’mon Doc…" He panted, "I kiss good."

Syre rose from her chair, sending it wheeling back. Her legs were shaking as she moved closer to his face. The chair hit one of the cupboards, causing her to look over. Seizing the opportunity, Buggy ran his tongue along her cheek. Syre squeaked and gripped his shaft harder in surprise. He rested back on the table with a dare in his eyes. She couldn't help but look at his painted lips.

"Just one kiss, Doll."

Syre bit her lip nervously, and he looked a little sad. "Let me do that for you."

Syre caved to the temptation and leaned down to brush her lips against his. Her free hand came up to caress his face, and it didn't take long for him to beg entrance into her mouth. His tongue prodded her lips, and she moaned when it slipped inside with the slightest part. His hands struggled against the straps. He wanted so badly to touch her, too. When he finally broke the kiss, he breathed, "Harder baby, grip it harder..."

"Are you going to cum for me?" The question was posed in the sweetest voice he'd ever heard. She wanted him to. Needed it just as much as he did. Her face, flushed red and lustful mixed with the desire in her eyes to kiss him again, it was too much.

He arched his back, fighting against the straps. Syre was breathless as his cock pulsed in her hand. She didn't mind the hot seed creeping over her hand. She was enthralled. He was inches from her face, panting in ecstasy and holding her gaze. His eyes were hooded with pleasure. She'd never felt more powerful.

"Fuck…" He moaned, his body trembling. Lips brushing against hers just from proximity. As she looked down over his body, he nibbled her ear. Groaning with the aftershocks of his climax.

"F-feel better?" She asked after he seemed to be coming down. She was tempted to give him another kiss, but that would be too much.

"Yes. Oh yes. I wish I could do the same for you." He panted.

She was getting bashful under his eye. "That's not necessary…"

"To stain those thighs red…" He mused, "and if the rest of you is as sweet as your kisses…"

He was growing hard again just thinking about it. "Oh no, you don't!" Syre released him and scuttled to the sink. She didn't need paint for her face to be as red as his lips. Hell, Buggy didn't even need to see it to know it was red. She scrubbed his seed off of her hand while trying to calm herself.

"You want to, though."

"Don't be ridiculous..." She forced a laugh.

Buggy had to give her some credit. Her voice had stayed mostly even, but her cheeks were a dead giveaway. That didn't mention her avoidance of his eyes.

"I won't tell anyone, Dollface." Buggy tempted. "You already know I kiss good, just think what else I can do."

Syre took a measured breath and covered him back up, eyes lingering just a little too long on the blue hair on his lower stomach. "For your sake, Prisoner E-8200, stay out of fights."

Before Buggy could tempt her again, there was a knock at the infirmary door. The guard from before poke his head in, "Everything okay, Doc?"

"Yes, we just finished up. You may take him," She waved dismissively but avoided eye contact with either man.

The guard unstrapped him and roughly got him to his feet. "No funny business, Clown."

Buggy turned to look at Syre and blew her a kiss. "Thanks, Doc."

The guard shoved him down, "Get moving!"

Syre was left in her infirmary, reeling from what had just happened. She busied herself, getting ready for another patient. She tossed the comb, but when she retrieved her gloves, she found one was missing. She furrowed her brows and looked up at the door with a sigh.

Walking down the halls of Impel Down, Buggy held the soft white glove hidden in his hands. A devilish smile across his face.

[nightingaletrash]

Maybe I just enjoy exploring mental distress in fiction, but I think Moira Asylum could have done more to really push Garrett to his limits and really mess with his perception of reality and how he processes it. Especially with the 'missing year in Moira' theory.

Ghosts of patients/inmates seeing him through the keyhole and wondering why he came back, you shouldn't have come back. Finding the layout strangely familiar. This room is here, why do I know that, I shouldn't know that. At first thinking of the Archivist as a kindred soul, only for the cell to feel too familiar, and finds notes in his own handwriting, and god he remembers that sound, the clicking like a little mechanical heart that he simply has to have. And then the hallucination in the chair. Was that Erin's memory? Was it his? Some confusing bleed between them?

Have him come away from there even more disoriented than before, uncertain of what was and wasn't real. Shoving it all into the back of his mind because only Erin matters now and Northcrest has Erin, he needs to go back to Northcrest Manor, what happened here doesn't matter anymore.

I just wanna put him through a grinder and watch him suffer. I love him.

[leahblackk]

The irony of life

summary: Spencer has to go undercover in a women’s prison after he came out of jail.

warnings: violence, mentions of blood, dead bodies, prisons, knives. typical criminal minds violence.

couple: post!prison reid x fem!reader

taglist: @ssavanessa22, @all-tings-gubler, @cance1medaddy, @doctorspenceryeet, @matthew-gray-gubler-lover, @nomajdetective, @reidselle, @louderfortheback, @hey-dw (if you wanna be add or removed let me know)

Prison had been a hard thing for Spencer Reid, not only because he was away from his friends, his family and his lover, but because of the things he had to face whilst being there.

Spencer Reid hasn't had an easy life, neither it was easy when he was a child, it was hurtful. How could a child suffer so much?

One of the things he remembers clearly was when he was bullied, when he was watched by all those people while he was naked, tied, and scared.

“How can children be so mean?” Spencer recalls his wife telling him, with tears running down her eyes. It hurt her to see how hard life has been for the poor doctor Reid,- and life hasn't gotten any easier-,

He could run statistics about it. Maybe the lack of attention and love the children faced, and they had to feel powerful in some way. But it wasn't fair, he was just a child as well. He had to face things, too. But he was never out there bullying other people.

Prison was something that had a big impact on him, mostly because while he was held back and beaten, he remembered that little Reid, being beaten by his bullies too. Scared, and hoping his mom would go and save him, to take care of him. But at the end of the day, he had to take care of her instead. It wasn't fair, for neither of them,

People sometimes compare high school with prison, when the kids were being dramatic, but it wasn't far away from the truth. At least not for him.

In the end, in prison ,-and life-, anyone could hold you back and beat you. Spencer knew that. They could say things about you. Sometimes high school bullies never grow out of it, they never change.

“Spencer?” He heard a voice, and he snapped out of his thoughts. He looked around, everyone was looking at him concerned.

“I'm sorry, uh what were you saying?”

Emily sighed deeply, she didn't want to do this, but she had to, “As i was saying. There is a potential lead,” she explained, trying to read Spencer's body language. Her eyes scan the doctor's hands, arms, the way he was breathing trying to see any sign. But they never noticed the most obvious one. Of course he needed help, he was begging for it, but they never noticed, way too busy trying to see his microexpressions. Ironic, “W-We know this might not be easy, and of course you can say no, but youre the most experienced in this.”

He needed to go undercover to a women's prison. One of their latest cases is based on a killer murdering the inmates. He needed to go undercover as a guard. How ironic. There was a time where he was on the other side of that cell.

He didn't want to go there, of course he didn't. He didn't want to step in a prison another time in his life, but of course, the team depended on him. He knew how prisons work, not only because he was in one once, but because they could use his brain. He didn't want to do it, but he sighed deeply and nodded gently, “I'll do it.”

…

“You have to do what now?” his wife said, “How can they do this to you-”

He grabbed her waist pulling her closer, in between his legs while he sat at the edge of their bed. He felt the soft material of the lavender purple cardigan she was wearing, his favorite and of course, was stolen from his side of the closet, but he couldn't care less when she looked that pretty. He kissed her belly, feeling the fabric itching against his mouth and he pressed the side of his face on her stomach, hearing the sounds this one made that always made him smile.

She sighed, defeated, and decided to play with his curly hair which made him sigh in satisfaction, “They didn't make me do anything, angel, I was the one who offered,” he lied.

“Then you shouldn't offer!” she complained with a high pitched voice. He smiled, lifting his head to look at her beautiful eyes. She looked down at his own hazel ones, her eyes soft, but sad, she was sad.

“It's gonna be okay, I promise. I get to save lives,” he spoke, making her sit on his knee while he kissed her temple, one, two, three times.

“It's not fair, Spence,” she cried softly, her voice almost breaking. Spencer frowned at that. Little tears threatened to spill out of her eyes, glistening slowly. Spencer knew prison was hard for him, but it was also for her. He knew she suffered while he was locked away, knowing he didn't have the comfort of their home, of her arms.

“Hey,” he cooed, “I promise I'm gonna be okay. It's only gonna be for a couple of days, bunny,” he spoke gently, cupping the side of her face turning it so he could see her better.

She bit her lip, trying not to cry. He knew she felt guilty for being the one crying and not him, but right there he couldn't love her more, “I just don't want you to go back there,” she confessed.

To be honest, neither did he, “I know, baby, but I promise it'll be okay mmh?”

She nodded, “I'm sorry I know that–”

“Shh, dont apologize. Hug me, yes? That's all I ask.”

She nodded, without complaints. He put his legs together, helping her accommodate in his lap with his hand on her waist, and when she was ready, she threw her arms around his neck, placing her chin on his shoulder. He smelt deliciously, so she sighed trying to take it all in, and he smiled knowing what she was doing.

He wrapped his arms around her, hiding his face in her shoulder. He didn't know if he was comforting her, or he was the one being comforted, but it felt amazing.

Having her that close to him, smelling her hair, the shampoo she always used lingering on her, -and he secretly stealing some from her, wanting to smell like her-, lingering in his curly hair as well. He was enamored, to say the least, and he was proud of it. No shame in telling it to the world, so he whispered, “I love you,” in her ear.

…

The day had finally come. He was about to enter, once more, those four walls that haunted his dream. It wasn't the same prison, of course not. This was a women only prison, but flashbacks couldn't hold themselves in.

His wife noticed, squeezing his hand, “It's okay love-” she encouraged, but Spencer cut her.

“The ninety-three point one percent of the inmates are male, and only the six point nine are women,” he stated. She frowned, “A-And the a majority of women are in prison due drug or property offense meanwhile men are the ones who commit mostly the hard crimes such as convicted sex offenders-”

She lifted her hand that was intertwined with his, pressing her lips softly in his cold skin. He looked at her, and smiled softly, “Sorry-”

She shocked her head, and pulled him close, wrapping her arms around his neck. He felt a whimper trying to escape from his lips, but he held it in, hugging her back. They were not too fond of PDA, knowing the team was probably watching them from afar as they waited for Spencer to go in, but she didn't care, and at that moment neither did he. She rubbed his back, “You're gonna do great. I believe in you,” he nodded. He believed her, but he couldn't help but chuckle.

“Says the woman who told me not to yesterday,” she rolled her eyes playfully.

“We're different from yesterday,” she smiled, pulling away and cupping his cheeks.

They stared at each other's eyes, they didn't need to speak. They knew what the other had to say.

Penelope squeaked from afar, “They're so cute!”

Luke chuckled, rolling his eyes to see the couple . But he agreed, they looked cute indeed.

Spencer smiled, knowing he had to go in. He pecked her lips quickly, and this time, Penelope's squeaked louder made them chuckle, “You're gonna do great,” she said. And he nodded, kissing her hand and walking towards the entrance where some other FBI guys were waiting to sneak him in, he didn't let go of her hand until he couldn't keep holding it. He sighed, deeply.

“Ready, doctor?” They asked.

No, of course not. But he couldn’t do any more than nod.

…

A week has passed, and Spencer had some suspects, informing the team about everything. There were yet another two bodies after he went undercover. All the same, blonde girls with blue eyes. The killer's signature; Leaving them without clothes in a pool of blood. He informed the team while they spoke about what it could mean, but he wasn’t paying too much attention.

He was overwhelmed while being there, to be honest. Spencer knew women's prison was more disciplined and less violent than men, there weren't as many fights as there were when he was in there, the inmates were not as violent, but it reminded him of the times he was there. Some of the girls were nice, spoke to him about why they were there, he created bonds, which helped create the profile of the person they were looking for.

He met a woman about five-six years older than him that was incarcerated unfairly, or so she said. He quickly and unconsciously created a bond with her, trying to see if he could help her. And he heard rumors about her lying and actually committing crimes. She never said why she was unfairly placed there, always changing the conversation. The inmates and guards talked about it, but Spencer decided not to believe them, because no one believed in him.

When he made his way to Joseline’s cell, to go and pay her their weekly visit, Spencer couldn't believe what his eyes saw. He gasped, quietly and drew his gun, carefully.

There it was, laying on the floor with a pool of water surrounding her body while Joseline sat on top of her, knife in hand, watching her slowly die. One of the girls he spoke with last week, one of the ones he created a bond with.

“Joseline?” He spoke quietly.

The woman looked at Spencer quickly, and he saw the shift in her eyes. She was scared, “I found her here, Spencer. I promise it didn't do anything,” she cried out loud, “You don't believe I did it, do you Spencer?”

Spencer shook his head slowly, “Of course not, Joseline. I know you're not like this…”

The black haired woman stood up from the body, and grabbed the knife with force, pointing it to Spencer, “Then why are you holding your gun like that?”

“Because the killer is on the loose, Joseline. And we have to make sure they don’t hurt you,” he said, trying to step forward to her, “Come on, give me the knife and we'll solve this.”

She shook her head, “No, you know why?” Spencer shook his head, “I know you know I did it. I can see it in your eyes,” she chuckled, “And, I have my reasons. I am here unfairly. I shouldn't be here! So I decided to give them a reason to put me in this hell.”

Spencer sighed, he understood her, “Listen. I-I was in jail, not long ago. And I was accused unfairly, as well. Just like you,” Spencer put his gun down, slowly, and lifted his arm so she could see them, “But this is not the right way. I know you feel so much rage. I know how you feel because I've been there, but this is not the way.”

She looked at him, trying to cipher if he was telling the truth; If she should trust him, “I had a husband, and he cheated on me with girls like her,” she pointed to the floor where the girl laid lifeless, “That's why I'm here, because he didn't want me to interfere with his new lover. He told the police things that weren't true. I shouldn't be here, Spencer!” she cried out.

His heart ached for her, “I know that. I can help you, you just have to come with me…”

…

Spencer sighed, while he looked around. The case was over. Joseline was transferred somewhere else.

The team congratulated him for finishing the case so quickly, for doing such a good job. But he didn't feel proud, or victorious. All the way around.

He was avoiding coming home. He let his wife know that they finished the case, and he was heading home. Thirty minutes ago, meanwhile he was still on his desk at the bullpen, playing chess with himself.

He knew he needed her, he knew that he wanted to be in her arms. But, did he deserve it?

Was it bad he connected, and understood so much a serial killer? Was it okay to feel some sort of sympathy for her?

Spencer was hurt by her story of her husband. About why she did what she did, because of him. Maybe if he hadn’t done that.

Maybe if he didn't put her in prison and cheated on her.

Maybe she'd have a different life.

Maybe she would've been a good person.

Spencer sighed one more time.

It wasn't healthy, and it wasn't fair for his wife to push her away when she had been there with him all along. He needed to come home to her.

He stood up, took every little piece of the chess and put it inside the box, taking his time, and grabbed his coat and satchel walking towards the exit.

He got into his car, and played some music he knew she hears. He needed her in any shape or form. He swore he could hear her next to him singing to the lyrics. He needed to clear his thoughts before he got home because she didn't deserve it. She was probably way too worried for him to make her worry once more. He needed to get his shit together, for her.

Spencer didn't even realize when he was already parking in front of their shared home. The lights were on, and he sighed. He knew he wasn't in that prison anymore, he knew he had escaped, but he might have been free from the four walls, but the four walls stayed in his mind, and incarcerated him there. Playing and reminding him of things he had done, things he had suffered, thoughts that had crossed his mind.

He stayed in his car, holding the wheel for a few minutes before he took the courage to get out of the vehicle while he grabbed his stuff.

He slowly walked in, looking for his keys in the pockets of his pants, and putting it in the lock slowly, but before he could turn his wrist to open the door, he saw her.

The love of his life had opened the door, with a soft smile and excited eyes to see him. Spencer couldn't help but smile back, genuinely. He prepared himself to give her a fake smile, but he couldn't fake it while he was with her.

He saw down her body, she was wearing her pajamas with one of his cardigans on her, this time a small red one. He remembered that cardigan fit him perfectly before, but after he met her, and she made sure to feed the doctor with delicious homemade meals, his belly grew and the cardigan was a reminder of their love, somehow.

“Hi my love,” she spoke with a soft voice. Spencer smiled for three seconds before a pout grew in his lips and tears made their way down on his cheeks, “Oh baby,” she spoke. Quickly pulling him inside the comfort and warmth of their house, taking the stuff out of his hands and putting them somewhere else, some of them knocking the floor but all she cared about was him.

She, then, hurriedly wrapped her arms around Spencers neck, while he sobbed and whimpered into her neck, “I don't wanna come back there,” he said, through a sob.

The girl made sure to rub his back and kissed his cheek, “You won't, my love, I promise you won't. I won't allow it,” she comforted.

He sniffed, pulling slightly away from her, “The unsub. I-I connected with her, i-i felt sympathy and understood why she was killing, Angel.”

She cupped his face, “It's okay, that doesn't make you a bad person. Sometimes it's difficult not to feel some sort of sympathy when the story of why they did what they did touches your heart. That doesn't mean you support, defend or justify their actions. That only proves you're human. And it is your job to understand them, baby. That's why, because you put yourself in their shoes, that makes you great at what you do,” she said.

He nodded, taking in her words, “I don't wanna be close to prison like that again. The memories, the flashbacks, they're still here,” he lifted his index finger to make contact with his head, showing what he meant.

Spencer's wife nodded, “I know they are my love. And it will be hard for them to leave, and maybe they will never leave but that's okay because with time they will hurt less,” she softly spoke. Putting his head slightly down to kiss his temples, and forehead, her lips taking their time to part away from this part of his body.

He looked at her, there it was. With worried eyes but full of love, how could he ever run away from someone like her? No, from her specifically. The love his heart held for her was stronger than any other feeling he had felt in the past. The way she quickly made sure he was alright, without judgment, comforting him. He was in love with her, and he wanted to cry at the thought of it. The sentiment was so strong that it ached his heart in such a delicious addictive way, it was the only kind of “pain” he wanted to feel for the rest of his life.

He took in a deep,-deep as the love he felt for her-, sigh, and nodded once more at her words, “I love you,” he let out.

He saw her face shift, confusion taking place, but she smiled whatsoever, “I love you, my love,” she took his hand, and kissed softly, “Tell me what you wanna do? Could I run a bath for you? Do you want to eat or maybe-”

“I wanna go to bed. I want you to hold me,” he admitted. It had been a long journey after he was able to tell his needs.

She nodded with a smile, “Of course, let's go.”

She carefully walked in front of him, with their hands linked, guiding him to their shared bedroom. She opened the door, and pointed to the bed. He nodded, knowing what she wanted. He let go of her hand, feeling cold all of the sudden and sat on the edge of the mattress as he watched her walk to their closet.

Spencer's wife focused on picking up some comfortable clothes for him and decided for one pajama set, one of his favorites.

She smiled making her way back to him, and standing in between his legs, she quickly pressed a kiss on his forehead while taking his tie off, she placed another kiss on his eyes, nose and lips while she unbuttoned his shirt. She let it fall from his shoulder and got it off from his arms, “Arms up, my love,” she gently ordered and he obeyed, while lifting his arms that now felt heavy. The love of his life quickly placed the shirt down his body, and he relaxed his arms, then her hands lowered to his belt but he shook his head.

“I wanna do it,” he smiled, and she nodded, giving him the pajama bottom.

He watched her go to the drawer and get some socks out, mismatched for him. He smiled, feeling cared and loved, he took the socks from her hands after putting his pants that felt nice on his skin. Feeling more and more relaxed, and more at home. He put his socks on, and sat further back until his back hit the pillows.

His wife looked at him with eyes of adoration while he waited for her to join him, she quickly made her way next to him, and laid down onto her side, Spencer quickly taking his place on top of her chest, and hugging her waist, grabbing one of her hands to play with his hair, which she chuckled, and obeyed, slowly scratching his scalp, he felt the exhaustion on his eyes and his body relaxed, “You're at home. You're okay, you can sleep my love,” she whispered.

He whispered, to his world, one more time, “I love you.”

[coochiequeens]

Ladies in Ontario be careful. This freak was let loose

By Anna Slatz September 13, 2024

A violent transgender inmate has been released on parole after serving his sentence in a women’s federal prison in Canada. Cassidy Honsinger, 29, stabbed a teenager repeatedly in a park in Cornwall, Ontario.

Honsinger was first arrested on September 10, 2022, after attacking a 17-year-old girl he had no prior interactions with. According to Parole Board of Canada documents provided to Reduxx, the girl had been sitting with a friend at a local park when she saw Honsinger riding his bike nearby. For reasons that are unclear, she began to call at Honsinger, who then responded by approaching her, pulling out a steak knife, and stabbing her repeatedly. Police were immediately called.

Witnesses observed Honsinger casually walking to his nearby home from the park, exiting shortly after to dispose of his knife in a sewer drain on the street. Honsinger was arrested shortly after, and the knife was retrieved from the sewer.

While the victim survived the attack after being rushed to hospital and treated for quarter-inch punctures on her body, she would later provide an impact statement to the court revealing that she was suffering from limitations in using one of her hands as a result of her injuries. She also spoke about her fear of going out following the attack, and had to begin a medication regimen to combat the night terrors she suffered due to trauma.

Honsinger was ultimately sentenced to two years in federal prison for aggravated assault. During the hearing, it was learned he had a previous “not criminally responsible” designation as he had a number of “mental health challenges.” The designation was applied in 2014, after Honsinger was charged with four counts of assault for strangling his own mother.

The Parole Board of Canada document reviewed by Reduxx notes that Honsinger had been formally diagnosed with “schizophrenia, anxiety, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), Anti-Personality Disorder, Borderline intellectual functioning, Cannabis Use Disorder (possibly in remission), and Attention Deficit Disorder.” It goes on to state that, when not on medication, Honsinger becomes “paranoid, experiences auditory and visual hallucinations, and becomes violent toward others and property.” It adds that he has expressed threats of violence and death to others.

But Reduxx has now learned that Honsinger had been housed at the Grand Valley Institution for Women for a portion of his sentence.

According to Heather Mason, a Canadian advocate for incarcerated women’s rights, a source at Grand Valley told her that female inmates had been “walking on eggshells” around Honsinger.

“My source revealed that he had significant mental health problems, including schizophrenia, and the women were concerned that he might experience an episode and become violent towards them,” Mason explained. “She pointed out that they were extremely vigilant and kept their distance from him, changing their routines and demeanor to minimize contact and prevent provoking him.”

See rest of article

[offender42085]

Post 1037

After the Judge commented that she would make sure that the inmate would never see the light of day again, the inmate whose hands were shackled responded; “That’s great,” and gave the Judge a thumbs-up.

Talen Clark Barton, California inmate AX9898, born 1996, incarceration intake October 2015 at age 19, sentenced to 71 years to life, scheduled for parole consideration July 2039

Murder, False imprisonment

In October 2015, a Laytonville California teen described by a Mendocino County detective as “pure evil” following a brutal, hate-fueled rampage in which he stabbed to death two members of the family he was living with and nearly killed two others was sentenced Tuesday to 71 years to life in prison.

The crimes committed by Talen Barton were so heinous that Mendocino County Superior Court Judge Ann Moorman said she would be writing a letter to the state corrections department so she can comment at his parole hearing, should he ever be granted one decades from now.

“I’ll see to it you never see the light of day,” Moorman told Barton.

“That’s great,” said Barton, who was shackled but still able to give the judge a thumbs-up.

Barton has indicated on multiple occasions that he believes he deserves to be punished for what he did the night of July 19, 2015. But he has remained largely emotionless in court and during interviews with sheriff’s detectives and psychologists, according to a comprehensive probation report filed with the court.

Barton in September 2015 pleaded guilty to charges that include two counts of murder and two of attempted murder. He also pleaded guilty to imprisoning two teen girls in the Laytonville home after the attacks and preventing them from phoning 911 by cutting the phone lines, according to the probation report. He later used a cellphone to call 911 himself.

Barton smoked marijuana and offered the imprisoned girls cookies while he waited for deputies to arrive, according to the probation report. He also asked the surviving victims how it felt to die as they struggled to live, the probation report stated.

The plea agreement allowed Barton, who has told sheriff’s investigators and psychologists that he was suicidal the night of the stabbings but afraid of death, to avoid facing a potential death sentence.

He told a psychologist he wanted to kill people “to know what it was like to die,” according to the probation report.

The crimes were so atrocious, and Barton was so “self-satisfied” and unemotional, that one of the detectives interviewing him later wrote he felt he was encountering “pure evil” and hoped to never see Barton released from prison, according to the probation report.

“He is an absolute monster,” Detective Clint Wyant said in his investigative summary.

Psychological exams found that Barton suffered from depression and post-traumatic stress disorder from his early years living with drug-addicted parents and step-parents. Mental health examiners suspect he was exposed to methamphetamine while in his mother’s womb. Barton also alleged he was once sexually abused by one of his mother’s friends.

Barton frequently expressed self-loathing to psychiatric evaluators and sheriff’s investigators, according to the probation report. Scars on his forearms showed that he had burned himself with his marijuana joints. He said he’d initially planned to kill himself and take others with him because he believed in reincarnation and believed they’d all be together again, the probation report states.

But, despite his many emotional problems, psychiatric evaluations found Barton was not psychotic when he attacked his victims.

3s

[star-baby-boy-archived]

Seitarou Tanabata

Has been working at Nanba for four years now, started at the very bottom ranks and made it to lieutenant in just four years.

Voted #1 Most Handsome Man in Nanba every year he's been here, and is always flooded with Valentines from "secret admirers" and the female population of Nanba Island.

Sews all of the plushies for the claw machines in the arcade room, and the prison pays him for each one. He's got a side hustle going that's fun and much appreciated by the population. Does clothing commissions as well, mostly cosplay, dresses, and yukata or kimono.

Has one older sister that he's very close with, one older brother that he's never gotten along with, and one younger sister that he's friendly with. Relationship with his parents is amicable but strained in a way that nobody will actually talk about.

He is a little nervous around dogs, mostly due to his inexperience with them. Is a big cat person, and has a ginger cat named Sora from when he was a kid. Sora is his sweet girl and absolute buddy, and is now fifteen and living with his parents (no pets allowed at Nanba).

Only finished just under half of his degree at college; that entire experience was derailed by his abusive relationship with now-Inmate 409. He has had some anxiety his whole life, but his mental health has suffered long-term because of that relationship.

Never got professional help for his mental health until Ken recommended it, and is now seeing Dr. Kimura semi-regularly. Is about to get a regular schedule set for his appointments and be prescribed medication to help with his condition.

Absolutely adores tea, has a huge hoard of it, and prides himself in being able to accurately guess what kind of tea any given person might enjoy. Also loves all kinds of cooking, even dabbles in western recipes and loves making sweets as well.

[iamapoopmuffin]

Powerpuff Girls episodes explained badly

Monkey See, Doggy Do: Everyone is a dog and/or naked.

Mommy Fearest: The girls try to turn some lady they just met into their step-mother and regret it immediately.

Insect Inside: Bugs are gross. Or are they?

Powerpuff Bluff: Cosplay for crime reasons. And to look cute.

Octi Evil: Bubbles trusts in her plush toy when it suddenly starts talking to her like one of those imaginary friends that tells you to burn things. It goes as well as you'd expect.

Geshundfight: There's too many people on this earth, we need a new plague.

Buttercrush: 1 1/2 year old develops crush on 17 year old who uses her crush to manipulate the shit out of her.

Fuzzy Logic: You don't touch another man's banjo. Ever.

Boogie Frights: An endless disco party ends in Bubbles turning off her targeting computer and blowing up the Death Disco Star

Abracadaver: Zombie magician comes to town and does zombie magician stuff.

Telephonies: Crank calls lead to the one moment in the entire cartoon my family constantly quotes, literally any time anyone says 'him' in any context. Also we learn how HIM stays so fit!

Tough Love: HIM farts on the entire city and it makes everyone hate the Powerpuff Girls.

Major Competition: Pretty much the exact kind of thing I'd expect Jeff Bennett to voice comes to town, kicks a puppy and gets praised.

Mr. Mojo's Rising: Mojo reveals he is both the Professor's former pet and the technical other parent of the Powerpuff Girls.

Paste Makes Waste: Be careful who you bully in kindergarten because they might eat a radioactive fly and become giant glue monsters.

Ice Sore: It's a hot summer's day and gee whiz, Blossom sure blows!

Bubblevicious: Bubbles is hardcore.

The Bare Facts: Your typical 'no-one's account is fully accurate as they piece together the story' story, but with crayon drawlings and a naked old dude.

Cat Man Do: Evil cat possesses the professor and does evil cat things.

Impeach Fuzz: Fuzzy becomes the perfect mayor. Crime is down 100%, the Powerpuff Girls now get called to catch pigs.

Just Another Manic Mojo: Mojo Jojo's morning routine ft. annoying children.

Mime For A Change: Clown steps into oncoming traffic, gets covered in bleach, causes an environmental disaster and ruins everything.

The Rowdyruff Boys: Rule 63 the episode.

Uh Oh Dynamo: Kaiju vs murder robot. The city loses.

Stuck Up, Up And Away: Spoiled brat tries to buy superpowers, like Batman.

Schoolhouse Rocked: Teenagers who were abandoned in a dump before ever going to school meet a truant officer who becomes the first person to ever care about them, then go to school and get expelled on the very first day.

Collect Her: This is you, you obsessed freaks.

Supper Villain: Man gets sick of pancakes for breakfast and lives out secret supervillain fantasies. (Second most quoted line of the show in my family is here.)

Birthday Bash: Happy birthday, here's some death. Also why the hell is a 5 year old girl in a prison where every single other inmate is a grown man?

Too Pooped To Puff: When completely exhausted from their constant hero work, the girls tell the city to put a toaster in a bathtub full of water.

Beat Your Greens: These kids are so reluctant to eat the only good green vegetable that vegetable aliens arrive to teach them to stop being pussies.

Down n' Dirty: Buttercup refuses to bathe and it's fucking disgusting.

Dream Scheme: In The Sand Man you play as Sophie Grundler, a girl suffering from insomnia. Exhausted and unable to sleep, Sophie wanders into town to discover everyone else has fallen into an eternal sleep. Wait, wrong sand man-

You Snooze You Lose: Mojo falls asleep, loses some schematics and goes completely batshit insane. Then the girls eat gum that was in Junior's mouth earlier. Then probably get sick from Amoeba Boys germs again.

Slave The Day: Billy, who we thought was dead, pledges allegiance to the girls and Blossom yells at him.

Los Dos Mojos: Bubbles is Mojo now. But twice as hardcore.

A Very Special Blossom: Blossom turns to a life of crime.

Daylight Savings: Actual consequences to these small children having to go out at all hours to fight crime.

Mo Job: Mojo and Princess build a gun and shoot children with it.

Pet Feud: The Professor genetically engineers a neopet that eats everything.

Imaginary Fiend: A child's imagination is a dangerous weapon. And may tell the child to set the school on fire.

Cootie Gras: A kid who never bathes decides to play kiss chase. When that grosses people out, he gets used as a dangerous weapon.

The Powerpuff Girls Best Rainy Day Adventure Ever: The Powerpuff Girls play The Powerpuff Girls.

Just Desserts: Man's supervillain fantasy is adopted by his entire family.

Twisted Sister: The girls create a new sister who is severely disabled and then promptly dies.

Cover Up: Security Blankie the episode

Speed Demon: Back To The Future but scarier.

Mojo Jonesin': Mojo deals crack to toddlers

Something's A Ms.: Sedusa has sex with the Mayor so she can steal shit.

Slumbering With The Enemy: Mojo goes on RuPaul's Drag Race and infiltrates a child's sleepover.

Fallen Arches: Old People Fight Club!

The Mane Event: Blossom gets a new haircut and gets bullied. I like her hair like that though.

Town And Out: The Utoniums move to a new town with real world consequences for senseless property damage.

Child Fearing: Mojo babysits and regrets every decision that led him to that moment in life.

Criss Cross Crisis: Mandatory body swap story from hell.

Bubblevision: Bubbles has sudden sight loss issues and gets ripped to shreds for it. Also there are ants.

Bought And Scold: Princess' dad buys the city and she legalises everything, then gets robbed.

Gettin' Twiggy With It: Neglected trailer park kid abuses a hamster.

Cop Out: American Police officer attempts to kill three children. Nobody is surprised.

Three Girls And A Monster: Well, they aren't adopting it, but they aren't murdering it either.

Monkey See, Doggy Two: Everyone's a dog again except the girls, so they can beat the shit out of things still.

Jewel Of The Aisle: Cereal mascot tries to rob diamond.

Super Zeroes: Cosplay 2 electric boogaloo. Also who the hell trusted Blossom with a car?

Candy Is Dandy: What happens when you introduce sugar to children who aren't allowed sugar.

Catastrophe: Don't shove cats up your arse.

Hot Air Buffoon: The Mayor goes into the sky and punches people.

Ploys R' Us: The Professor sleep steals and the girls profit from it.

The Headsucker's Moxy: BRAINS BRAINS IT'S ALRIGHT, I'LL EAT THEIR BRAINS TIL THEY'RE ZOMBIFIED

Equal Fights: The Powerpuff Girls get brainwashed by a TERF.

Powerprof.: Embarrassing dad becomes superhero just to spend time with embarrassed children.

Moral Decay: Buttercup steals teeth and sells them on the black market.

Meet The Beat Alls: Mojo, Fuzzy, Princess and HIM form a band and live in a yellow submarine.

Him Diddle Riddle: HIM canonically has the power to end the entire world with a flick of his wrist but instead spends his time making the girls solve riddles to inconvenience them for shits, giggles and not having customers Karen their way out of paying for flapjacks.

Film Flam: Fake director tries to take advantage of impressionable young girls and it takes their dad in drag to stop him.

All Chalked Up: Butterfly HIM teaches Bubbles art therapy and then brings the therapy to life.

Get Back Jojo: Back To The Future again

Members Only: Big manly men have their masculinity threatened by little girls, then a giant dick joke from space voiced by Mr Krabs kills everyone.

Nano Of The North: Tiny robots eat your clothes

Stray Bullet: Squirrel with huge nuts becomes super squirrel after small child force feeds him chemicals

Forced Kin: Mojo has beef with some shiny silver dude

Knock It Off: Dexter's estranged uncle or something comes to town, makes a shittonne of artificial children to sell for profit and many of the children die.

Helter Shelter: Bubbles kidnaps a baby whale

Power Lunch: Teenagers with terrible diet have stomach issues.

Superfriends: New kid in town falls victim to peer pressure.

Keen On Keane: Girls, seriously, have you not learned your lesson about setting your dad up on dates with random women yet?

Not So Awesome Blossom: Blossom has an anxiety attack and loses all self confidence.

Power-Noia: The girls eat cheese before bed and have weird nightmares.

Monstra-City: Segregation is right.

Shut The Pup Up: The girls consider beating a dog to death.

Toast Of The Town: Babysitting an old guy who wants toast.

Divide And Conquer: A glorified maths lesson featuring amoebas.

Burglar Alarmed: The girls try to silently deal with a burglar because daddy is tired.

Shotgun Wedding: Fuzzy tries to marry Professor Utonium, then has sex with a pile of mud.

Save Mojo: Vegans ruin everything.

Substitute Creature: Ms Keane is sick and the girls learn they're racist against green people.

The Boys Are Back In Town: Oh yeah rule 63 is back and spikier.

Pee Pee G's: Mojo breaks into the girls' house and pisses on their bed. He faces absolutely no consequences for this.

Boy Toys: Boys don't like girls, boys like cars and weapons.

Seed No Evil: Frozen caveman steals sunflower seeds. This one feels like a really shit fever dream.

City Of Clipsville: The show runners take the absolute piss out of every fanfic writer in the fandom.

Lying Around The House: A lie gains sentience and fucks shit up.

Bubble Boy: Bubbles steals Boomer's clothes, identity and family.

A Documentary: Guy stalks children and tries to record videos of them.

Girls Gone Mild: Karens ruin everything. Again.

See Me, Feel Me, Gnomey: Jack Black a gnome creates communism through the power of music

Curses: The girls learn how to swear.

Bang For Your Buck: Kids compete in a life or death struggle to earn enough money for ice cream.

Silent Treatment: Silent movie kidnaps man and steals his voice.

Sweet 'n' Sour: Plushies rob entire city and get away with it because they're cute. Also they hate children.

Prime Mates: Brainless monkey ruins everything. Just like Twitter.

Coupe D'Etat: Sentient car is a homewrecker.

Makes Zen To Me: Buttercup joins a peace cult.

Say Uncle: The girls adopt a sasquatch and Utonium does not recognise his own brother.

Reeking Havoc: How do you fight a giant fart? Asking for a friend.

Live & Let Dynamo: Kaiju Robot is back and is committing crimes for fun.

Mo' Linguish: Mojo teaches a class at an adult education centre. Sadly it is not street dancing for self defence.

Oops, I Did It Again: Normal little girl AU

A Made Up Story: In which makeup is evil

Little Miss Interprets: Bubbles ruins a surprise party

Night Mayor: Another weird cheese dream but this time it's the Mayor dreaming about having relations with pickles

Custody Battle: HIM and Mojo have a messy custody battle in the middle of Townsville and both lose.

City Of Nutsville: Bubbles swallows a bee and squirrels kill everyone.

Aspirations: Sedusa takes advantage of a group of teenagers who have been abandoned by their mothers and also never gotten laid while also turning them into criminal masterminds.

That's Not My Baby: The girls find an abandoned baby and decide caring for it will convince their dad they're ready for a hamster

Simian Says: Mojo takes over the show

Sun Scream: PSA: Wear sunscreen.

City Of Frownsville: Man with terrible depression develops machine that cures his depression by giving it to everyone else

West In Pieces: Back To The Future 3, the wild west one

Crazy Mixed Up Puffs: Oh god they've fused

Mizzen In Action: Pirates of the Caribbean but less interesting

Roughing It Up: The Professor takes his kids on a camping trip and becomes rival dads with Fuzzy

What's The Big Idea?: The girls are made giant and it's a whole mess.

Nuthin' Special: Buttercup has no unique abilities. Any she had before are no longer unique.

Neighbour Hood: Children's TV show demands money.

I See A Funny Cartoon In Your Future: Gypsy and goose steal things along to a terrible rhyming narration.

Octi-Gone: Bubbles holds a fancy dinner party hostage to solve the mystery of the murder of her plushie, the one that told her to burn things.

[walker-extended-universe]

Halfway to Freedom, Chapter 1

Relationship(s): August Walker/Sadie Yoo, Eve Edwards & August Walker, Bode Leone & August Walker, August Walker & Cordell Walker & Stella Walker, Geri Broussard & August Walker

Tags/Warnings: Prison, Crime, Estranged Family, Family Issues, Family Drama, Drug Addiction, Referenced Drug Use, PTSD, Running Away, Self-Esteem Issues, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Regret, Hope, Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary: After some poor decisions, August Walker ends up at Three Rock Fire Camp. ON paper, he's the perfect candidate for the program. But, in practice, Even Edwards knows it's never that simple. He has a long way to go if he's ever going to make it out into the real world again.

Written for @whumptober Day 28: "They caught me red handed"

Taglist: @theladywyn, @ihavepointysticks, @klaatu51, @itsjessiegirl1, @neptunium134

---------------------

Welcoming a new batch of inmates was always an exciting day. Nerve-wracking and panic-attack inducing at times, but exciting nonetheless. Getting everyone settled into their new bunks, introducing them to new routines, hoping there wouldn’t be any unexpected gang rivalries sparked…. It was a new experience every time.

One thing that Eve always took advantage of the first day to do was get to know her new firefighters. After some rough experiences in her first few years, she learned it helped to understand their stories before she became their captain. She could read their files, but that rarely held enough of the story. Actually talking to them helped her understand how they would react to certain things and plan around what accommodations they might need. She also felt it gave them a chance to know her too, rather than just seeing her as some distant authority figure that could (perhaps unfairly) decide their fate. It was easy enough to work some in-office interviews into the schedule, even when they had a larger group.

This time, the new group was pretty small, only 6 newbies. So, she had her last little interview just after the lunch shift. And this one was….interesting.

“So, yeah, they caught me red handed. Kind of hard to fight against security camera footage and about 10 witness statements.” August Walker slouched in his chair. 

“That’s very interesting, but that’s not what I asked you. I asked you why you were here.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Pretty sure that’s what I just said….”

“No, that’s why you got arrested. I asked you why you were here, at Three Rock. What are your goals here.”

“Oh.” August rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m here to get out earlier, I guess. It wasn’t my idea. My uncle kept insisting on it and I got tired of him hassling me about it so I applied. I was kind of surprised I got in, to be honest.”

Eve hummed. There was no reason for him not to be approved. He had a good behavior record, never caused trouble for inmates or prison personnel. He wasn’t even considered a violent offender, having only been arrested for felony theft. He didn’t even resist arrest.

So, this little interview told Eve that August was suffering from a severe lack of self esteem, or any hope for his future. That could be a problem. An unfocused firefighter posed a risk to themselves, their teammates, and any civilians in the area. “And your uncle is….?”

“My lawyer.” August rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know, should be considered a conflict of interest but he knows all kinds of weird loopholes.”

She made a mental note to reach out to his uncle at a later date and see if he could provide any insight.

“Well, I think that’s all I have for you for now. We’ll get you started on training tomorrow, so why don’t you go get settled in? We always start our days early here so I recommend you get some rest.”

He shrugged. “I practically grew up on a ranch; I’ve never slept past 6 in my life.”

Eve smirked. “Good; we get up at 5:30.”

His lips quirked into almost a smile. “Sounds like a plan. I guess I’ll see you in the morning.” He quickly left her office and jogged to join the rest of the men in the outdoor gym area.

Once he was gone, Eve pulled out her phone and dialed a very familiar number. “Hey, Manny, are you busy tonight? I could use some advice….”

[voidendron]

Heya, hope you don't mind an extra question. I just really stan for your Exarch headcanons. Out of curiosity, how do each of your Exarchs feel about the respective planets they govern? How fond of it are they (if at all), are they just rulers or more authoritarian, ect? Thought it'd be an interesting part of them to explore.

oh I am ALWAYS happy to answer Exarch questions, don't you worry 💚💜

thank u for the ask you've opened up a whole can of worms that I can now infodump unto my unsuspecting dashboard

it kind of ends up varying Exarch to Exarch as to how they run their Fortress. so long as they keep blockade over their respective planet, Arcann doesn't really care What they do to the world itself. they have free reign to fire upon them as needed, use whatever force necessary to do their job, make their presences as obvious or hidden as they desire

so, that said!

Lesin'taliva "Lesin" Tyn (Nar Shaddaa): more....I suppose basic ruler, doesn't care how Nar Shaddaa's residents view him so long as they don't cross him. he's indifferent about the moon itself (if a little exasperated over the huge cantinas/neon lights/parties/etc aesthetic), he's just doing his job. he keeps travel and shipping routes on-and-off-world blocked, using force when necessary. he ends up the cause of a lot of bankruptcy, owed debts, cantina closures, and increased gang violence because no one can get supplies while his Fortress orbits the moon

Zar Draya (Alderaan): she's more subtle about it. She keeps travel and trade restricted with force, yes, but she also quietly blackmails nobles and makes them think things that are untrue in order to raise tension with the already-strained relationships of the various Houses. She does it more for her own (and Zakuul's) amusement, broadcasting squabbles to her homeworld and trying to exacerbate the tensions into becoming another civil war.

She does like Alderaan, though. Just....is more distracted with getting the Houses to go for each others' throats than to admire the world's beauty. Maybe in another life, she'd have appreciated its mountains and even gone to visit there with Hyra.

Forta Gair (Belsavis): She rules over Belsavis with an iron fist. Nothing - and I mean nothing - happens planetside without her approval first. She had crop fields burned, supply stockpiles ransacked, cuts the power on the regular in colder areas, picks random victims for experimentation. All because she can and she wants to see what will happen as the inmates get desperate.

She hates Belsavis. She's incredibly jealous of the other Exarchs' stations, finds the worlds they rule over far more interesting than her planet full of convicts and segregated cell blocks; those forced to live in the shadow of her Fortress suffer her ire and ill temper over it.

Jom Vanten (Hoth): uh. His is. Complicated. It's whatever he's programmed for, honestly. He holds trade and travel hostage, and when White Maw start overstepping their control he doesn't hesitate to step in and have his Fortress fire upon them - albeit with a "low" setting, but that's still plenty to decimate whatever group he shot at. Occasionally his programming is altered, and he may let up - or he may strike even more mercilessly than before. It wholly depends on who sets his mind - and he's Definitely the worst when Vaylin orders an alteration.

He's indifferent about Hoth. He doesn't have the capacity to feel like, nor dislike, for the world nor its inhabitants.

Now, pre-Exarch Jom? He would have disliked the planet's cold, but been fascinated with the snow since he'd never seen it before, and the creatures adapted to live in it.

Tarso Gren (Tatooine): Basic rule. He has no interest in starving or killing everyone planetside for no reason, so does allow some trade, but all ships are scanned before leaving or entering Tatooine's atmosphere. Those with weapon shipments and the like are taken into custody or shot down. While Tatooine's residents Do want him gone, they're certainly better off with him than some of the others.

He likes the planet, if only because it has vast stretches of uninhabited desert that he can test weapons on. Doesn't mind the heat, either.

Dezaar "Dez" Tora (Bothawui): Not only rules over Bothawui with an iron fist, but also didn't hesitate to use her Fortress' strongest weapon settings to fire upon it at first inkling of a rebellion. She's extremely paranoid about her own death at the enemy's hands, and the Bothans contacting the Alliance spooked her something fierce. After she killed thousands, the world went quiet - it was as if everyone was holding their breath, afraid of setting her off again.

She doesn't care about Bothawui itself; it's just a station to her. It's the people she doesn't care for - she's had visions of her own death at the hands of rebellion, so.... well. Need I say more? ;)

Elle Malforia (Balmorra): We'll just say.... she takes "follower of Tyth" to a whole different level - especially when compared to the far calmer Tarso who was raised by followers of Tyth but...is pretty much never angry?? Anyway, this is about Malforia, not Tarso. She ruled pretty strictly over Balmorra - and she was also the only Exarch who consistently showed her face publicly and personally carried out public punishments to Balmorra's people when they went against her rule or tried to sneak around her blockade of the world.

She's the one who captured Tai, Zasha, and Malita and sent them on their way to Zakuul to face Arcann's wrath - and in the meantime held a public execution for his vice president to send a message to the world's people. She would have continued to be a thorn in Balmorra's side for a long time if the Shroud hadn't blown up her Fortress and taken her captive......

She doesn't like Balmorra. The bugs are too big, the ground and water too irradiated, the people too goddamn stubborn why do they keep rebelling dammit.

Andur Melor (Voss): Andur... Oh, Andur, my dear. He feigns a strict rule - but then turns a blind eye when smugglers are trying to run life-saving supplies to the people of Voss, allowing them to "sneak" through uncontended as if he never noticed them there. He's mostly quiet, blocking trade and travel when needed to keep Arcann, Lesin, and Tarso off his case, but he has no interest in stifling the survivability of the world's people.

He's fascinated with Voss. Its culture, its species, the way it seems to be in a perpetual state of autumn with the colors of the leaves. He regrets what he has to do and that he makes the world suffer as a result of it.

Adhi'ren "Ren" Zotar (Old World, no Fortress): Zotar is. Incredibly jealous of the other Exarchs for getting their grand Fortresses and ruling over their very own planets, while he's stuck babysitting the Old World. He tries to control it with force, resorting to violence to try keeping it in a chokehold that it always slips out of the moment he turns away.

....at first. When multiple attempts to end the Arena fights fail, and he gets into an argument with some of the champions, well. When he's goaded into the ring, his career takes off and he grows Pretty Damn Fond of the Old World, to put it mildly.

[xxmothangelxx]

Shady Rambles Dislyte Part 6: A Written Movie Sequal

So, I made this post yesterday, and after I was able to make a reddit post that I feel better summarized my point! It may be a tad pretentious in its writing and I do apologize for that, but still, I hope you enjoy!

As a lover of writing and Dislyte, I've always been unnecessarily invested in the story. Funnily enough, unlike most people the story and characters are really my main reason for not giving up on the game – in spite of all the less than favorable updates – so although many argue the story is sub-par, I quite enjoy it. This love of characters and story has made it so I try to keep up with most events. I'll be honest, I stopped playing the game after Valeria's event (and I have yet to read through the ones that I've missed) but I have since completed Cellblock Chaos so I'm making my way back into the game!

Needless context aside, I wanted to discuss the concept of grey morality and why it always bothered me when it was mentioned in reference to the Shadow Decree, it took me a while to figure out why but I feel that I can now put it into words. It is because the Shadow Decree are objectively an irredeemable terrorist organization that have committed human rights violations so extreme, that in a more realistic world Hyde would have been sentenced to death by firing squad upon arrest.

The issue with grey morality and the concept of an anti-hero is a lot of consumers and fans have the false mindset that if a villain has a 'point' then the villain is any less evil. Now, the issue with that therein lies with the fact that morality is less based on thought and more based on action, it doesn't matter if you have a "moral" way of thinking if your actions don't reflect that. This issue can be seen within the Shadow Decree in abundance, many of the characters have seemingly understandable reasons for being members, but their actions within the group contradict their so-called moral standpoint.

For example, many argue that the reason Hyde isn't a villain is because his research is all for the "greater good", he is an ends justify the means sort of person. However, you then have to take into account that Hyde actively partakes in and encourages human trafficking and non-consensual human experimentation. Does it really matter if it is "for the greater good" if you are actively allowing hundreds of innocents to die for experiments that lead to nothing at all?

I am brought back to two events in particular: Brewster and Yun Chuan's. In both events, it is revealed that the Shadow Decree's crimes run deeper than just bothering the Union and stealing their members.

With Brewster, we find out that Shadow Decree actively buys trafficking victims off what can only be described as a black market and experiments on them in an attempt to turn them into espers. These people do not consent, and are nothing more than cattle to them. Few are "successful" like Brewster, with a majority of them dying from the strain placed upon their bodies. Brewster himself was sold by his abusive father and still suffers immense trauma from his time under Kara.

Yun Chuan's hits closer to home however; as someone with many criticisms of the prison industrial complex – more specifically how inmates are treated – to hear that the Shadow Decree makes deals with prisons to experiment on inmates was incredibly chilling. It was one of the most true to life, realistic portrayals of how deep systemic corruption truly is, especially in how it mirrors the real life abuse of incarcerated people globally.

I simply do not see these as the actions of a "morally grey" group of people that only "want the best". I feel that the reason many are quick to slap the morally grey label onto the Shadow Decree is character bounties, most bounties are slice of life stories that show the characters going about their daily business, of course Ophelia and Catherine seem nicer and more likable. Though you then remember that they bombed an orphanage for virtually no reason and suddenly they seem less like good people.

Now, this isn't me saying that you cannot like them or that liking them reflect poorly on you as a person! I for one am definitely a Shadow Decree apologist haha, my top favorite espers are majority Shadow Decree, and I find them to be an interesting group of people with the potential for great storytelling. With that being said, I feel we as media consumers have a habit of becoming so attached to certain characters that we forget that their actions do indeed play a role in who they are.

To be a part of the Shadow Decree is to say that you are okay with human trafficking, human experimentation, terrorism, weapons smuggling, political corruption, prison industrial system corruption, child murder (remember the orphanage bombing that killed Stewart's lover and also a bunch of children?). The Union is certainly not free of skeletons, their rampant negligence shows this, however I cannot feel comfortable saying that they are in any way just as bad or worse than the Shadow Decree based on everything the Dislyte lore has told us.

TLDR: I believe the reason many argue that the Shadow Decree are morally grey, or that they're even a well-meaning group, is because many of the characters have sad backstories, attractive designs, and cute personalities. Though I cannot agree, because I feel that it disregards all the genuinely horrific (and mostly unnecessary) actions of the group; I don't see how people that bomb orphanages and experiment on trafficking victims can be any less than evil.

With all of that being said I would give my left kidney and run over a baby kitten if it meant that Catherine would blink in my direction.

[masterqwertster]

Hurt/Comfort - #31 Launda and Ashton

Prompt Gonna take this one to the Ruby Hells AU and the Ruby Vanguard research lab...

31 Mental Prison

You attempt to bind a creature within an illusory cell that only it perceives. One creature you can see within range must make an Intelligence saving throw. The target succeeds automatically if it is immune to being charmed. On a successful save, the target takes 5d10 psychic damage, and the spell ends. On a failed save, the target takes 5d10 psychic damage, and you make the area immediately around the target’s space appear dangerous to it in some way [for 1 minute Concentration]. You might cause the target to perceive itself as being surrounded by fire, floating razors, or hideous maws filled with dripping teeth. Whatever form the illusion takes, the target can’t see or hear anything beyond it and is restrained for the spell’s duration. If the target is moved out of the illusion, makes a melee attack through it, or reaches any part of its body through it, the target takes 10d10 psychic damage, and the spell ends.

As Laudna approaches the pick-up room for the subject suites, she can hear heavy steps pacing, pacing, pacing.

That's good.

Ashton's high energy days are few and far between, but turn out some of the best research. Low energy makes the genasi extra surly, and they can hardly push limits when he barely has the energy to reach what's already been recorded.

Even D perks up at the thundering pace, curious to see what new discoveries in dunamantic properties await them.

Except when she enters the room, it's just in time to catch Kremar finish a somantic that has Ashton giving out a short cry of pain as he clutches his head, pacing brought to an immediate halt.

D hisses in the back of Laudna's mind, drawing the warlock to prod for her knowledge.

The oaf. Mental Prison can kill the weak in the initial casting. And if the target crosses out of the illusion of the spell, they'll be hit with a second psychic blast twice as strong as the initiating one, her necromantic patron explains.

It makes Laudna want to hiss herself. That is her friend subject, and Kremar has just threatened his life for some inane, asinine reason. Ashton is on the opposite side of the room from Kremar, and she would have heard if the genasi was mouthing off and baiting the guard.

An eldritch blast is sent Kremar's way as Laudna storms into the room, beelining for her friend subject. It startles the guard, but does not break his concentration, unfortunately.

She can hear the startled little gasp, the beginnings of her name, as she places herself squarely between Kremar and Ashton, close enough to the genasi to pass through the illusion.

"Don't move!" she hisses back towards them, believing that her instructions will be followed. After all, the trust Laudna has established between them is why there are very few with the authority to supersede her in matters of Ashton. They're too stubborn and subversive to work with without that hard-gained trust.

"As for you, Kremar," Laudna projects across the room, leaning into Lady Briarwood's air of superiority as an (ex-)archmage. "Drop the fucking spell or it will be you on the research table, under Gris'mor's 'care.'"

Kremar blanches. As he should. Even D admits that Gris'mor's 'research' methods belong in a dungeon where the point is simply to make the inmates suffer.

There's a vicious satisfaction in the immediate disappearance of the illusory spell around her and Ashton. The low, earthy rumble behind her as they can see their tormentor again. The sparking build of dunamancy bending reality ever so slightly.

"You have fucked around," Laudna icily declares, frost and shadow coalescing into a dagger too large and weighty for her upheld hand. "Now you get to find out."

The rumble turns into a pleased growl as the weight of the conjured dagger disappears from her hand and heavy gravity drags at her.

A flashing glitter of light on ice.

A delicious scream as Kremar's knees buckle, the dagger dug into his shoulder to the hilt as blood stains his shirt. A dismissive flick of Laudna's fingers makes the dagger crumble, allowing blood to gush from the wound. Kremar does his best to staunch the flow with his opposite hand, the injured arm itself dangling uselessly.

"I'll report you for this!" Kremar wails.

"Yes, well, I'll be reporting you too. And I think they're going to be more interested in my report where you risk killing" my friend "a unique, one-of-a-kind research subject for no fucking reason," Laudna tsks. "Now get out of my sight."

"What?"

"You heard me. Shoo. Be gone. You're services obviously aren't required here when you fuck up your one job of seeing subjects safely into the care of their researchers," Laudna drawls.

And there's fear and fury in those eyes, but when they track to Ashton stepping up behind her, the fear wins out. Kremar stumbles back up to his feet and leaves with pained haste, dripping blood the whole way.

It's the wise decision, really. Ashton could cross the room very quickly and is quite capable in melee combat, unlike her or Kremar. If Laudna gave them the leeway, covered up some sordid little details, Kremar could have been very dead. By her hand, by Ashton's hand, by their hands. It wouldn't really matter, dead is dead.

Once the annoyance's footsteps fade from hearing, Laudna finally turns to get a good look at Ashton.

"Oh drat. You nose is bleeding," she fusses, hands curling through the motions of prestidigitation. "How are you feeling?"

"Pretty good, until that fucker decided to drive a fucking pick into my brain," Ashton complains, rubbing beneath his nose where she'd just cleaned with a sniff.

"I'm guessing the high energy that had you pacing is rather dropped now," Laudna muses, looking them over to make sure she didn't miss anything in her cleaning.

Ashton's hesitation to answer has her regarding the whole of him with greater scrutiny.

It's now that Laudna notices how he's locked his legs, only allowing for the tiniest sway of his body. How the lights in the glass are strobing in an irregular heartbeat, soft and bright, slow and quick, a pattern of muffled pain. The gritted teeth, the slightly unfocused good eye, the painstakingly carefully paced breathing.

"Do you need healing?" Laudna changes tack instead.

Sometimes it's just easier to start at the worst and then backtrack to where Ashton's current wellbeing actually is. And needing healing is an admittance that things are bad. After all, divine magics are where most healing lays and the Ruby Vanguard is decidedly against the gods, who provide a great deal of that kind of magic, and thus are rather lacking in it. Most healing in the Vanguard is by potions, of which they keep exacting track of in distribution and use, given the alchemy to make potions isn't cheap.

"...No. Just- just an easy day," Ashton quietly admits.

And oh, she should have strangled Kremar. Taking all the potential of a high energy day and turning it into a bottom of the barrel kind of day-!

"Alright. We'll take it easy," is what Laudna says, kindly, gently, tucking that anger away from her friend subject. It will have it's place, later.

[abbacchiosbelt]

While I've seen plenty of criticisms of Outlast for ableism/stigmatizing mental illness (because your enemies are murder-happy asylum inmates), I honestly beg to differ—at least for the most part. For one thing, only a handful of inmates actually attack you. Most of the other patients there are either in shock or just trying to lay low and stay alive through all the chaos going on around them. Even the more proactive of the non-combatant characters, such as the pyro you encounter in the kitchen, are just trying to get out—and their desperation is made to be pretty relatable. Even the boss characters like Chris Walker and Eddie Gluskin were victims of the asylum. For crying out loud, the Whistleblower DLC opens with Eddie getting dragged into the morphogenic engine kicking and screaming and begging for help—it's what solidifies Waylon Park's determination to take down Murkoff. Even when you find Eddie's files later on and see that, yes, he was already a murderer before he wound up in Mount Massive, that also comes with notes about the sexual abuse he experienced as a child and his denial of it. It doesn't excuse his actions—of course it doesn't—but it shows that he didn't become the way he is from nothing. Furthermore, the entire Mount Massive arc focuses so heavily on the theme of abuse of power. The patients are enduring horrific experimentation at the hands of people like Blair and Trager, and that is what sets up the rest of the story. The people running the show are the catalysts for all hell breaking loose—not the patients, who are instead victims of a system that is exploiting them by pushing them past their mental and physical limits, and has no qualms about treating them as replaceable test subjects. They are already sick people thrust into terrifying circumstances. Some of them were already dangerous to begin with, but most of them were not. They were all in a place that was supposed to help them cope with their conditions and rehabilitate, but instead were exploited and had their issues exacerbated by being traumatized further, and that's part of what makes Outlast terrifying.  So yeah, the portrayal of mentally ill people in Outlast isn't phenomenal, sure, but it goes beyond making all the patients out to be horrible monsters. Most of them are just trying to stay out of all the awful shit going on and stay alive without completely breaking down. The games still makes you feel for those people after you see how desperate and terrified a lot of them are, due mainly because of the abuses they have suffered from the people who were supposed to help them.

idk if i've posted about outlast (well except for reblogging cupcake's dimitri fic inspired by outlast's universe but—) but this was an interesting read nonetheless! i don't know enough about the game to speak on it, and i'm too zooted right now to go in a big discussion about it, but i can see your points! idk if i agree with all of them (need to do more research, but i'm generally quite wary of that stuff in media) but i liked reading this post!