#i feel bad for anyone who had to be around me in the immediate aftermath of that ep

[the-kingofdoritos]

Me, sat there listening to the protocol epilogue, almost on the verge of tears: "well shitttttttt hahahahahha" My friend, who's only listend to 5 eps of protocol because i hassled them about it so much: "are you actually ok? Who died, better not have been Alice?" Me, literally about to sob even tho i dont really like Colin that much: "... i want a milkshake."

[sharkboywrites]

My perspective on Curly as a victim of abuse

Tw for abuse (physical and sexual)

Hey mouthwashing fandom, so this is kind of a hard topic for me to tackle, but recently with seeing people’s opinions in the fandom on Curly as a character, I want to put in my own two cents as a victim of abuse.

I want to clarify before I start that I am not a victim of sexual abuse specifically. The abuse I faced was physical that bordered on sexual, but I was never sexually assaulted. That’s why this analysis isn’t about the sexual assault aspects of Anya’s abuse, like her relationship with Jimmy, but rather on the aftermath of the abuse on how the people she trusted (specifically Curly) interact with Jimmy after they know.

For context so people can understand my situation: I was in a very physically abusive friendship that bordered on sexual abuse in my freshman year of high school. Now, through my sophomore to senior year, I was forced to be in the same school as this person. In the same classes, in the same clubs, in the same events, and the same friend group as my abuser.

This is why I relate to Anya so heavily. I understand being forced to stay in situations with the person who abused you and being around people who either don’t know or do know and haven’t done anything/hold them accountable.

Now onto the main topic of my rant: Curly. So far from what I’ve seen, Curly is a hot topic for debate on the morality of his character. Anya confided to Curly about the abuse, and Curly, as far as we can see, didn’t do much. This makes it really easy for people to point fingers at Curly and call him an awful person and say that he is just as bad as Jimmy.

This is where I disagree. I don’t think Curly is a bad person.

Again, I understand the pain of having people do nothing. I have watched people I confided in about the abuse I face completely ignore what I have said and continue to be friends with them. I have had people say that I was lying. I have had people defend them right to my face because “They look like they’re getting better” or “But they seem like such a good partner to their (current) girlfriend!”

I get how frustrating that is. I understand the level of hurt that brings and how unsafe that can make someone feel. But once again, this is something the fandom immediately jumps on Curly for without really looking any further into it.

The thing is, these are people I know at school. These are people who can actively control their situations. These people can stop talking to them, stop giving them rides, etc. to stop interacting with them.

This is not the case for Curly and Jimmy. The most obvious thing being: they’re literally on a ship in space. They are all in a confined space and forced to be together for months on end. On top of that, Jimmy is a very unstable person, and Curly probably knows that. A lot of people like to characterize Curly as the “Oh, but he’s my friend, he wouldn’t do that” guy, but that’s not what happened. He listened to Anya, and while he definitely been more empathetic and done a bit more, he still didn’t deny it.

I personally feel like Curly specifically not denying it means he knows that Jimmy did it, and that he knows Jimmy is a bad person.

All of these are faults of Curly’s. He let someone he knew onto was dangerous onto the ship, and when he did something bad, he didn’t do enough to help despite being the captain.

But one thing we do know is that Jimmy is a manipulator. He will manipulate or threaten anyone to get what he wants. First off, we don’t know if Jimmy manipulated Curly to give him the job in the first place, which could have very much happened. Second, he was seen manipulating Curly AGAIN in the psych evaluation scene, the birthday party scene, and near the end of the game when Curly confronts him after talking with Anya.

Every single thing Curly falls short on is a direct effect of Jimmy’s manipulation in the first place. Yes, he absolutely could have done more in both situations, but Jimmy manipulated into him into letting him off easy.

On top of being manipulated by Jimmy, there wasn’t much Curly could do. He can’t just throw Jimmy out into space and he couldn’t let Anya have the gun because he can’t have his crew killing each other obviously (even if Jimmy is a threat).

The only critique I have of Curly at this point is doing more to protect Anya. He could have made a better effort to keep Anya safe from Jimmy and really put his foot down when confronting him.

Although again with all of this, it just boils down to Jimmy. If manipulation doesn’t work with Jimmy, then he uses threats or brute force. Curly probably knows that Jimmy is unstable, and probably didn’t know what he would do if he had been firm with him or done literally anything that could be seen as against him, evidence being the birthday scene. Everything that happened and everything Curly fell flat on was becuase of Jimmy’s manipulation and unpredictability tendencies, so really, it’s not 100% his fault.

Tldr; While Curly could have done a little more and should be critiqued, all of the stuff he falls flat on is because of Jimmy just like everything else in the story, so people should stop treating him like he’s a bad person or could keep Jimmy in control because he was a victim too.

[minotaurs-my-beloved]

Love when a good song gives me some ideas

Song reference:

Tongues & teeth by The Crane Wives

Thinking about being fwb with wearwolf outcast of a small town. They’re an outcast for a good reason they’re violent and aggressive the town has half the sense to put them down for some of there outbursts. But you don’t see that you see someone you could fix (classic savior complex) and you want to fix them because you love them (not like you would tell them though). With all their bad habits every time you come over to try and help them a bit, always after a rough few rounds of sex. You think you’re being discreet but they can see right through you..

Eventually they get sick of you trying to help them and confront you, telling you out front that this would never work. They’re far to cruel for you, far to cold, far to violent especially for a little human like you to handle. Grabbing your chin and tilting t up to them as they run their thumb over the cut on your lip from their teeth.

They talk of how they would ruin you, they know that you mean well but they’re not someone who deserve your good intent. They let let go and head to leave now that you’re crying they feel as though they’ve made there point but here you are still tugging on there sleeve talking on how you don’t care. How pitiful they think as you beg and beg for them to stay that you’re fine with all their flaws and just want to at least try making things work..

They keep listening stone faced as you cry and plead with them till they finally snap. Fine you want their love they’ll give it to you. They manhandled you to the ground not bothering to listen to your Inesscents tears why should they this is what you were pleading for. And they’re fully intend to keep to their promise and ruin you.

Looking at the aftermath of your body they smile in an almost sadistic way. They get dressed leaning down to press a small kiss to your lips there teeth cutting into your lips again. As the whisper “if your fine with that you can be mine” they lean back watching as sleep takes you before they get up and leave.

Yah just a thought Ykwim

Always just a thought

Maybe to much of a thought

Anywhoooi

-🎀

I completely forgot about that song, the crane wives are a great band. Also, babes, you need to start writing, this was a very fun prompt. I literally stopped what I was doing and immediately started writing for it

Also, should I name them? if so, I want ideas

WC: 1.1k

TW: Dubcon? violence, toxic/abusive relationship

You had always been intrigued by them, hearing stories and rumors of a violent brutal werewolf with not a care for anyone or anything. Whenever they return to the public for any reason the aura of dominance and cruelty radiates off of them. No one needs to be told to stay out of their way, their body just forces them, innately knowing this is a dangerous dangerous person.

But you must be lacking that basic instinct.

That or you're really fucking stupid. The townspeople have yet to decide, as you, someone who can't fight for a shit, not that it'd matter, walk up to them and try to begin a conversation. The hair on everyone's neck stands, a sickening dropping feeling in all their stomachs, as though they were the one talking, knowing what is to come next.

To everyone's surprise, the monster doesn't immediately lash out at you. Bare those jagged teeth or stain your body with their marks, but just stop and stare down at you, their hulking non-human body towering over your own. Perhaps the hesitation is only of confusion, or maybe they've managed to retain a bit of the humanity they once gripped desperately onto.

Who knows.

The people around you quickly pull you away as the werewolf starts to change their mind, snarling at you. You got lucky, don't test it again. But whatever thoughts you had before of them still having the capacity to love have fully been unearthed, now at the forefront of your mind at all times. You saw the hesitation and decided it meant everything.

They decided you were really fucking stupid.

They will only hurt you. They'd enjoy every second of it too. They're nothing but sharp teeth and claws. But you don't listen, trying to prove to everyone that the wolf's not as bad as they seem.

So, you track them down, it isn't too hard, they don't live very far from town, and bring them something you've baked. They're already on edge, not expecting someone to just show up at their home, and seeing you pisses them off. But they show restraint and only slam the door in your face, telling you to fuck off. You just leave the pastries on their doorstep, a little hurt, but not shaken, deciding to keep this up.

The second visit they didn't even open the door. But the third was worse. They were angry with your actions, just leave them alone, they don't need your fucking pity. They push you, sending you tumbling back, a claw mark ruining your pretty skin. A few tears well in your eyes from the rejection and pain, but you quickly blink them away and stand back up, trying to talk to them. They just growl and throw the food to the ground next to you.

The townspeople are begging for you to stop, they hurt you. They are nothing but the monster they've succumbed to. Why do you want to go back? You don't listen, refusing to give up.

This time you take a different approach, instead of bringing something you made, you bring yourself. Offering your body up for their use.

They actually take you up on this offer, kicking you out the second they were done. Leaving you limping and littered in their marks, not caring to be gentle with you. You asked for this, you knew what you were getting into and you just kept coming back for more. Trying to stay after you're both finished, talking gently to them of domestic peaceful things.

But they see right through you. They know there is no true altruistic motivation for your actions. This is not for the genuine betterment of the wolf.

No, you never actually cared about that, you're only doing this because you want to be seen as better. You just want to feel like a good person with your "good intent." You have a savior complex. You don't actually care about them at all, it's never been about them. It was always about You.

Watching your bloodied lip move while you talk, one they bit into to make it that way, talking about far too sweet things, they snap.

"Stop! Fucking stop! I am so sick of this, I'm not some little project for you to fix, goddammit! I cannot be gentle. Why don't you understand? There is no fixing me. You burn with feelings I can't return."

"You had to know this wasn't going to last."

They turn to leave, going to go hunt as a means to get the anger coursing through their veins and escape. Their words slam you like a brick wall, you look around frantically, body starting to shake, you run towards them. Sobbing and gripping onto their arm, begging for them to stay.

You need them.

Can't they see that?

It's pathetic, but it's the only thing you can do. Broken hoarse words spilling from your lips. You don't even know what you're saying anymore, but it doesn't matter. All that matters is that they're still here.

They just stare at you with those same dead eyes as they did all that time back. Not an ounce of care in them. They snarl and push you off, but you come back the second you stand. They clench their jaw and refuse to look at you, ignoring your pitifully desperate pleas.

Every time they look at you they can only see the worst parts of themself, the parts that have nearly engulfed them whole. All the claw marks, bruises, cuts, bites, staining your innocent weak body.

This is what they do to those they love.

They will only hurt you.

Can't you see that?

They can't be trusted, they do nothing but harm. They can never change, they wouldn't even if they could. This is who they are. Nothing more, nothing less. Abandon any dream you had about the person they could have been.

They warn you that they will ruin you too, corrupt you. But you don't care, you say they're all you want, no matter what.

Finally, they accept your words, deciding to give you what you're asking for. Pushing you to the ground, tearing your clothes to shreds, stabbing their teeth into your skin, ravaging your body completely. Cry all you want, this is what you were begging for.

What? Can't take it now that you've gotten what you want?

Should've thought about that before pleading for it. You don't have a choice now. You wanted their love? Now you have it.

Using your body till they're fully satisfied, not caring for you at all. Ruining your body with each hit, ruining your body with the pleasure they give, even if not meaning too. They finish, and just like the first time, get up and leave. Your bruised and bleeding body lies there on the cusp of unconsciousness and they sink their teeth into the same cut on your lip, leaning over you, growling, "You're mine, now.

"This is the price of my love."

[xanadontit]

Dear Care and Feeding.

My husband and I have a delightful, inquisitive 4-year-old daughter, “Bree,” who has a nut allergy. We have been able to manage this fairly well, but the problem is my in-laws. They were careless about nuts to the point that we had to stop coming over to their place. My father-in-law keeps a bowl of peanuts or trail mix on the end table next to the couch, and never remembered to remove them before we arrived for a visit. Even worse, my mother-in-law believes Bree’s allergy is something she will outgrow over time and even thinks she can be “cured” if she is exposed to nuts in small doses, because she read about people overcoming allergies through exposure therapy on the internet. After Bree nearly ate some peanut butter M&M’s my FIL forgot to put away on our last visit to my in-laws’ place I put my foot down. I said until they were willing to take my daughter’s safety more seriously, we would not be coming over to their house. My husband grumbled that he thought I was overreacting, but went along with it. My in-laws were very chilly for a couple of weeks, but eventually agreed to the new arrangement.

I thought we had resolved the problem, but I was wrong. When my in-laws visited our home last month, I left Bree watching TV with her grandmother while I went to check the mail. I came back to find my MIL in a panic, my FIL on the phone with 911, and Bree on the floor nearly purple and gasping …

I realized she was having an allergic reaction and immediately gave her a shot with the EpiPen I carry with me at all times. Within several heart-stopping minutes Bree was breathing better. The EMTs came and took her to the hospital in an ambulance while we followed behind.

While we were waiting for the doctors to update us at the hospital, my MIL told me she had given Bree a small piece of a Snickers bar. She said she thought Bree could overcome her nut allergy if she ate a little each day. My husband had to practically hold me back. I shouted at her that she had nearly killed my daughter and as far as I was concerned, we were done with both her and my FIL. My MIL huffed that she was only trying to make it so Bree could have a normal life and stalked out of the hospital with her husband on her heels.

It’s been over a month now, and my husband has been trying to facilitate a reconciliation between us. He acknowledges that what his mother did was wrong and dangerous, but still tries to defend her by saying “that’s how she is,” and pointing out that she never intended to harm Bree. I have told him that I will never be able to trust his parents around our daughter again. His mother hasn’t even so much as apologized. He thinks I am being too harsh and am taking this too far. Please tell me I’m not.

—Am I Nuts?

Dear Nuts,

No, you are neither being too harsh nor taking this too far. You made it abundantly clear to your in-laws what the rules were regarding your daughter and her allergies. Because they read too much online baloney and like to imagine they know better than anyone else, they broke them on purpose, put her life at risk, and don’t even seem to feel that bad about it. They suck! You are right and he is wrong. I hope this makes you feel better.

But it does you no good to feel better now and still have your husband claiming you’re overreacting, even in the aftermath of your child nearly dropping dead. It does you no good to be the lone voice in the wilderness. You need him on your side.

It’s possible that he finds your daughter’s nut allergy so frightening—and it is frightening!—that he’s desperate to grasp at any straw that suggests she might “get over it.” Combine that with an unwillingness to confront his parents, and you might have a dad who’s feeling just torn enough not to know how to handle this mess. Sit down with your husband and explain exactly how you feel about what his parents did, and how you feel about how he is not supporting you—or, honestly, even protecting his own daughter. Feel free to wave a printout of this advice column to help make your case.

Maybe, down the line, you’ll decide together to reintroduce his parents into their granddaughter’s life. (I know it feels like you never will want to, but there are such wonderful rewards for a child in having a relationship with even totally objectionable grandparents.) If so, there will be conditions, and whatever those conditions are, he’d better be on board for conveying them, in no uncertain terms, to his amateur-immunologist parents—and making clear to them that there will be no divergence from those rules.

******************

I'm sorry but what the FUCK is Dan Kois' problem? The dad/husband fucking sucks which tracks because he comes from fucking sucky stock and I'm failing to understand what "wonderful rewards" await this poor child from "having a relationship with even totally objectionable grandparents" unless he means "heavenly rewards" because they seem intent on killing their granddaughter.

Can you imagine being this kid?

"Hey, Mom, why did you let Grandma and Grandpa around me? They were constantly feeding me peanuts and I ended up in the hospital every Christmas."

"Oh, a complete moron advice columnist said it would be good for you. Somehow. Hey, you were great at calling 911 and not all kids can say that!"

ETA: And what's with all the sympathizing with the dad because he's just so sad his kid has an allergy and doesn't know what to do?! You don't let the kid eat peanuts/peanut products and you keep the kid away from people who purposely do that. He doesn't need to get an MD and cure food allergies for all of mankind. Christ.

Would love to hear @sequinedably's thoughts on this one.

[aladaylessecondblog]

You Stole My Sun (Halsin x Tav x Astarion)

Basically the aftermath of that idea I wrote about post-Astarion's "I should have made you a spawn" line.

big sad, spiraling frightened/uber depressed Tav. Halsin is the best ever etc

This is my Tav, AFAB druid drow with same pronouns, but feel free to imagine your own Tav if you want.

Halsin didn't know what had happened, because Tav wouldn't say. He only knew it had involved Astarion, who had been gone for almost a week now.

The only clear thing he could get out of her was that Astarion hadn't hurt her, and one sad little sentence that made no sense: 'None of it was real.'

But that left quite a range that had him racking his mind, considering...

Considering that she had clammed up, that the near-endless line of jokes and smiles and little laughs had stopped cold. That every time he touched her when her back was turned, she stiffened and whipped around like she was afraid someone meant to attack her. That she spent more time with the animals in camp and out past the treeline than before.

(Considering when he had tried to come to her as 'her bear' she had blanched as if afraid he really would devour her)

The rest of the camp had noticed, too, and dealt with it in different ways.

Lae'zel had offered herself as a sparring partner, saying Tav needed more practice with a longsword anyway. Will had done something along the same lines.

Gale had tried to lift her spirits in his usual way, and Karlach had, now she was fixed, gone for hugs which Tav returned--in silence.

None of them seemed entirely sure of what to do to fix this, though. Whenever anyone had been in such a mood, it was always Tav who brought back the better mood, who lifted their spirits, got them smiling.

What did you do, Astarion? Halsin found himself thinking as he watched Tav. She wildshaped into a cat, came to sit in his lap, and curled up as if trying to hide. You stole my sun, that's what you did.

Tav was like a light to the camp, brightening and warming everyone whose lives she touched.

And her light had gone out.

His heart's heart was broken.

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

Astarion returned late, when some of the camp were still up but several had already gone to bed. He HAD hoped to do it quietly, simply to slip in, but he was spotted almost immediately

Lae'zel (who was on watch) was the first to see him, and had moved off--to warn Halsin, he assumed, since the man returned with her a few moments later.

She then moved off to complete a patrol around the campsite.

"Come to warn me off?" he attempted a quip, but it fell flat.

"Come for answers," Halsin replied. "I've been confused, you see. It's not in your nature to run like this. Hide, certainly, sneak, absolutely. But to run?"

"I thought Tav had sent you to--"

"She didn't send me to do anything. What happened, exactly?"

"Didn't she say?" Astarion looked up, and then swiftly back down. "Usually she's eager to--talk."

"Not a word, my star. All she would say was that you had not hurt her. And to quote directly, 'None of it was real,' in the most desolate tone I have ever heard from one in love. What did you do?"

"I...made a mistake," he said, letting out a needlessly long breath. "She didn't care for the idea of my...ascension, you see."

"Of course not. She feared...that you might become the thing that once frightened YOU."

"And I thought that was a lot of nonsense. I mean, really...I would be safer than ever. I didn't see the problem that she did...she wouldn't touch the extra little tadpoles, she wouldn't hear of taking control of the--well, that's all been gone over. What you want to hear about is..."

Halsin waited.

"She didn't understand, and I wanted to make her understand. I practically snarled at her, said I should have--made her a spawn..."

Seeing Halsin's eyes narrow was a bit like having Scratch growl at you. It let you know you'd fucked up and fucked up bad.

He went on explaining, and finished with, "I've never seen her afraid of anything before that moment. I didn't think--she ran. She ran from me. That--that was the last thing I wanted! That's not what I meant to do!"

"But it's what happened."

"...what am I supposed to do now?" Astarion's voice, far more miserable than he'd ever let Halsin hear before, burst out.

"Apologize," Halsin said, "As a start. And understand that if she DOES forgive you, it will take time."

[eveningrelics]

For the record, we love making games and want them to be approachable.

This whole debacle has had us discuss trigger warnings for the future because some people are only sensitive to certain sub-sets of issues, myself included.

On a store page and in fane, however, these warnings could be lengthy.

Would it be good, I wonder, to have the lists on the store page and at launch, as we have thus far, and then each respectively direct you to where you could read more about each trigger type?

For example, a longer warning might be:

Transphobia:

Depiction of violence against a transwoman; scene includes aftermath of physical altercation

"T Slur" appears twice if player interacts with [PC in Chiyo's room]

Online abuse against a transgender individual (Sexual harassment and dehumanizing language)

In-game, I think it should be fairly easy to do a trigger warning directory with breakdowns and possibly examples of each?

It's time consuming, but if it's something that would make people feel more comfortable playing horror games, I am always looking to explore new options.

I don't think doing this would have mattered in the recent abuse, but it does matter to us for making sure players are comfortable moving forward.

I mentioned these things in my itch.io response on Mare's page before comments were closed.

For what it's worth now, the "T slur" was used because people who tear us down really don't give two shits if I'm nonbinary, trans masc, or whatever. Being trans is enough for them to hate me.

Maybe it's regional, generational, or whatever, but it's been applied plenty to trans masc and nonbinary people around me as much as transfemmes because people who hate us don't really see a difference.

As far as trigger warnings in games though, I am always happy to discuss ways to improve on it further. Z and I are both neurodivergent, queer game devs and I am also disabled.

Making stuff accessible is very important to us, so I would genuinely like to have a conversation about what makes approaching dark subject matter feel safe.

However, given the recent targeted hate campaigns, I will Not be engaging with anyone who comes to this in bad faith.

You will be blocked immediately, and I encourage others to do the same rather than engage.

[vaporgutz]

OC ANIMATIC // DEEP DIVE DESC

Check the animatic if you haven't already!! But here's the deep dive of the animatic itself .

-

⚠️ TW: Talk of SA/Rape, violence, self harm, suicide, substance abuse, as well as various other triggering topics.

-

"Am I a toy to you, my love?"

It shows Josef basically thrusting himself at Citrine without a care and a drunekn smile on his face, cause he would get very drunk everytime he'd hook up with Citrine (he'd have to to even get through it, which would lead to many consequences), though the words he is saying would make one think he DOES care. But it shows that he doesn't. Plus, it fits because Citrine calls Josef a toy, even nicknaming Josef "My Toy" or something along the lines of "Doll".

"Just a thing to play with"

Here, It's mainly how Citrine sees Josef before the big event that occurs. A banged up mannequin with claw marks to use. And Citrine has no face because I wanted to dehumanized him in those two scenes.

"Then throw away."

Here, they are together, but both are a black, blurry shadow. Because Citrine in these sex situations is more of a horrific blur that he'd rather drink away in Josefs memory.

(Scene 2)

"I never asked for this"

This is interesting. Because this is the aftermath of the big event. (bare with me). Citrine never did ask for more than a 'friend's' with benefits. He never even asked FOR a friend's with benefits. He usually just does his vile acts, kills, and eats whatever spoils are there and then leaves.

"I always did my best"

Josef in life did not do his best. He tried but, in the end, chose to dig himself deep. But he likes to think he tried in life. He's a ball of self-loathing.

"Without your love, I am a broken mess."

Josef is high, drinking and on coke, which he doesn't do often. The two haven't seen each other in a couple of days, but this is when he realizes that he had gotten Stockholmed into forming a toxic reliant trauma bond with Citrine unintentionally. He manipulated, faked, cried, hurt, and treaded on death so much that he actually started to find a kick, pleasure, in doing it to survive. And he had no idea how he could break away from doing it.

Citrine on the other hand, it hit him like bricks that he had fallen in 'love' with Josef. But this is a twisted obsession, warped by sick lust and a distorted view of what Josef ACTUALLY is like. He has no idea who he actually is because he's never shown him. But still, he had fallen. And this is bad. Very bad. Because he had never felt these confusing feelings before and had no idea how to handle them. Love is completely foreign.

(Scene 3)

"Now I'm never enough. It's almost too much"

This is THE event. Basically, within a year of their toxic 'relationship'. Josef became so twisted that he wanted to gain some sort of power back. He's a switch, but Citrine would never bottom for anyone. EVER. Josef used EVERY TRICK IN THE BOOK, except for intoxication and force, and if that ment beating around the bush and making Citrine feel loved, he did it, he did everything in his mega manipulation power to make Citrine submit.

"For me to work, I need a humans touch."

Josef succeeded. But at what grave cost.

"I'm just a toy to you, my love."

Now this is Citrine singing this. Deep within his twisted obsession, no idea how to handle 'love', he began to freak Josef out because Josef has love and commitment issues. Josef began to show how he truly is, a cold and hollow individual, by occasionally snapping. But oddly... Citrine didn't retaliate very much. Not to Josefs expectations. It didn't click in Josefs mind immediately, but when it did, boy did Josef exploit this. And no, Citrine was so love blind that he did not catch on for a while. But eventually, it came crumbling. At this point, we're very near the end of the story. Josef snaps hard at Citrine and says things he shouldn't, things that would get him killed, making Citrine realize that HE'S been used.

This whole segment is him flipping out in heartbreak.

"Just a thing to play with."

It shows Josef being his true nature. Cold. His back turned and really not caring about the actions nor consequences of this. With Citrine absolutely seething in the back. But his eyes are golden, like Citrines. Though, cannon, Josefs eyes are 'tombstone' grey, this symbolizes Josefs morph into Citrines acts.

"Then throw away."

Finally, Josef has become so absolutely corrupted that he was almost no better than Citrine. What he does to Citrine is couplied with what he does to others, and it's a mess. He got back at him, sure, but during this endeavor, lost himself. He was already a lost and loosing individual, now, he was something his half brother (Robert) would consider hunting down. What happened after this event is one of the last parts in the story, quite the event.

* Hint: It's a confession gone horribly wrong.

-

Well, that about wraps it all up. Subscribe to my YouTube to see any future animations! Thank you!

[recoveringdreamer]

TIMING: recent. LOCATION: downtown PARTIES: @natusvincere & @recoveringdreamer SUMMARY: with the weather cooling, felix is excited to show off the turtleneck they won in the sandcastle tournament! meanwhile, vic just wants to know why there's a giant turtle wandering around downtown. CONTENT WARNINGS: none!

 It had been too hot to properly enjoy the prize gifted to them after the sandcastle tournament in the immediate aftermath of their win. Felix had thought it a little strange, really, to have a turtleneck as the prize for a summer event. After all, wasn’t a turtleneck more well-suited for the harsh winter months when your neck needed that kind of warmth? Still, they appreciated the turtleneck. Still, they wanted to utilize it. So the moment it got cold enough to call for such a thing, that was exactly what Felix did.

They slipped into it, admiring how well it fit and how comfortable the fabric was against their skin. It was a good turtleneck. They adjusted the collar, looking down at the sleeves that covered their arms. There was no one to see them in the turtleneck here in the boiler room, and that was kind of sad. The solution was an obvious one: Felix needed to go out in the turtleneck. Felix needed to be seen. It wasn’t something they usually wanted; most days, Felix was ducking their head and trying to avoid eye contact with anyone and everyone who passed. But they liked this turtleneck, so they went out. They stood outside a shop just so that people could see them.

And see them people did. A few people had turned to stare as they passed, which felt wholly unexpected. Felix thought the turtleneck looked good, but not good enough for people to point at them. Feeling as though they’d made some kind of a mistake — maybe they just couldn’t pull off a turtleneck — they turned to head back towards the Grit Pit, fumbling when they accidentally collided with someone. Now more people were looking at them. This had been a bad idea.

—

It was meant to just be a quick trip to the market, just to grab some cheerios.  Rosie, for whatever reason, had become obsessed with the cereal as a breakfast option, outright refusing to eat the sides of fruit, eggs, yogurt, or whatever else was offered to her.  Thankfully this hyperfixation was limited to only breakfast, so she was getting proper nutrition otherwise.  Still, after finishing another box that morning, it only made sense that Vic pick some up on her way home from a gig.

She was on a mission, of sorts, and didn’t even notice whatever commotion was happening in front of her as she walked toward it.  That is, however, until she bumped straight into the commotion.  She was about to scold whatever clutz it was that just walked into her about safe and mindful walking, but the sight in front of her stopped her in her tracks.  There, right in front of her, was a giant, adult-sized turtle. One wearing a rather dashing turtleneck.  

“Somebody left behind their large reptile”, she sighed, exacerbated.  “This town never ceases to amaze me.”  She really should have been used to the shenanigans of town at this point.  She reached forward, poking the turtle in the shoulder.  “I wonder if you escaped from the zoo.  Or perhaps Saks 5th Avenue?”  She grinned, once again admiring the turtle’s sense of fashion.  She blinked, looking the thing up and down.  “I guess I should call the zoo”, she mused, pulling out her phone.

_

A large reptile? Felix turned their head from side to side quickly, looking around for what this woman was talking about. Maybe people weren’t staring at them — maybe something else was going on. They thought of Wyatt and Anita, wondering if perhaps the ‘large reptile’ in question was a lamia who had shifted at an inopportune time. If that was the case, Felix ought to step in before a hunter showed up. The last thing they wanted was for someone to be hurt, after all.

They didn’t see a large reptile, lamia or otherwise, hanging out around the outside of the buildings, however. Maybe they’d ducked into an alley to hide. They were about to ask for clarification when the woman spoke again, pulling out her phone. And that — that was a bad idea. Wasn’t it? Calling the zoo could attract the attention of hunters, and even if it didn’t, Felix couldn’t imagine any shifter would want to live in a zoo. They quickly reached a hand out, pushing the woman’s phone down gently.

“You shouldn’t call the zoo,” they said quickly. “This is — I can handle this. The reptile is, um, my pet!” They prayed whatever shifter was here would forgive the terminology. But, unbeknownst to Felix, there was no terminology to forgive. While, to them, their voice sounded just as it always did, people outside of Felix’s turtleneck heard only the inhuman grunts and groans of a turtle.

—

If Vic didn’t know any better, she could have sworn that the impeccably dressed turtle was somehow reacting to what she said.  It was strange, because turtles didn’t have the mental capacity to process complex language.  Perhaps there was something to be said about the size of this one’s head.  

Gross, this turtle was way too touchy feely.  If only its charisma matched its insane penchant for fashion. Come to think of it, why was a giant turtle even interested in fashion?  Vic balked, wondering if calling the zoo was the right move.  This thing would have scared Rosie, maybe it didn’t belong at the zoo at all.  Still, she took out her phone, scrolling through her address book to find the number.  If anything, it was a respite from the sight of the thing.

 She pulled away quickly, equal parts offended and shocked.  She looked up at the turtle again, her eyebrows furrowing in judgment as it croaked out something unintelligible.  “Perhaps animal control”, she muttered, though she didn’t like the idea of that at all.  Perhaps this intelligent, well-dressed turtle could point out its home.  Then she could take it back and all would be right.  “Where did you come from, turtle?  I’ll get you back there.”

—

Despite his protests, the woman seemed intent on scrolling through her phone. And it was as she scrolled that Felix realized they recognized her. “You’re Missy Spitz!” They exclaimed, unsure whether this should fill them with relief or make them more nervous. She hadn’t really seemed interested in listening to them when she’d come to investigate the Pit; odds were she wouldn’t now, either. But it gave them a new angle to try, and that had to mean something.

Felix pulled back when she pulled away from them, looking apologetic. Some people didn’t like to be touched; they shouldn’t have let themself get carried away in their panic. “I’m sorry for touching you, Missy,” they said, sounding genuinely remorseful. The sounds the giant turtle made in place of his words could have been interpreted similarly, if one were in the business of interpreting turtle noises. “I’m just trying to make sure everyone is safe. If you saw a giant turtle, it may not belong at the zoo.”

This might have been easier if Felix had had any idea whether or not Missy had any knowledge of the supernatural. Explaining that a giant turtle was probably a person, one who may have shifted at an inopportune time or gotten stuck (like Mona had once) would have been easy when speaking to someone with the knowledge that shifters were no foreign concept to them. But Missy was an unknown entity; Felix didn’t know much about her at all. She seemed to waver a little, at least, weighing the possibility of animal control over the zoo. Maybe that would have been better — Monty’s boyfriend was with animal control, after all — but it still didn’t feel ideal. “Where is the turtle, Missy? I don’t — They probably don’t have great hearing, so they might not hear you right now. I can talk to them! Just show me where they are.”

—

More groaning from the turtle.  The people around Vic avoided the situation like the plague.  Cowards.  It was just like with the real plague, when people stayed hidden in their homes instead doing something to fix the problem.  Somehow, the turtle looked like it felt… bad?  She must have been tired, she didn’t normally anthropomorphize animals.  She squinted at it, trying to figure out how a turtle could look so familiar.  Maybe she was officially losing it.

Wait-... maybe she was losing it.  Is that why everyone was walking by?  Not because there was a human sized turtle in the middle of town, but because she was loudly fawning over something that definitely wasn’t there?  It would be possible, for sure, she did have a lot of enemies in this town.  And after she and Jade left behind a few leftovers at the warehouse… it wouldn’t be out of the question that someone was trying to gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss her into thinking she was off her rocker.

“I’m just going to take a picture with you, turtle.  To, uhm… show my daughter”.  Lying to an amphibian felt wrong, for some reason.  But it shouldn’t have, right?  Because amphibians couldn’t process human languages, emotions, or the complexities that came with telling the truth.  If she were telling the turtle the truth, she would have told it that the picture was to prove to herself that she wasn’t seeing things.  Smiling awkwardly, she turned her phone around, snapping a selfie of herself and the turtle with the most genuine smile she could muster (which, admittedly, was barely genuine at all).   Pulling the phone down to look at it with the turtle still behind her, she nodded, all the confirmation she needed right there.  “Yep.  You’re definitely a human sized turtle in an amazing shirt, all right.”

—

Missy was still talking, but she was making less and less sense as she went on. She spoke as if the giant turtle shifter was right in front of her, but Felix couldn’t see anyone that fit that description. Everyone else seemed to be parting around the pair of them, like a river breaking around stones, but none of those people were particularly turtle-like. It was bad, was mean of him, but Felix was beginning to get a little frustrated. Couldn’t Missy just answer them? Couldn’t she point out where the turtle was so Felix could help them? “Missy, we should really be working together here,” the balam insisted with a huff.

Then, things got even stranger. Missy said she wanted to take a picture with the turtle, who was still nowhere to be found. Felix craned his neck as Missy pulled her phone out but, instead of walking over towards some unseen turtle-person, the reporter shimmied up to Felix. At first, Felix was incredibly confused, because they weren’t a turtle. But then, Missy turned her phone around, selfie camera reflecting what it saw, and… oh. Maybe Felix was a turtle? They hadn’t been earlier, had they? They were distinctly positive, in fact, that they’d never been a turtle before this moment. And yet, there in Missy’s selfie cam stood a turtle. It moved when Felix moved, it blinked when Felix blinked. The evidence was pretty damning. 

Immediately, Felix’s heart picked up a tick. “I’m not — I’m not a turtle,” they explained. The turtle groaned. “I’m — Missy, something’s wrong. I’m not supposed to be a turtle! You’ve gotta help me!” They tugged at the neck of their turtleneck, suddenly feeling hot. “I think I’m cursed again. This is so much worse than the rhyming! Orange. Orange. Orange. Am I still a turtle?” The turtle appeared panicked now, stumpy arms waving in the air.

—

The groan of the turtle was starting to grate Vic’s nerves, and for a moment, she felt a sense of guilt around it.  This giant turtle was probably terrified… perhaps it was even crying for its Mama.  She huffed at herself, shaking her head.  “Stop anthropomorphizing the amphibian and pull yourself together!”

When she looked more closely at the photo, it appeared that the turtle didn’t look upset at all.  In fact, they looked almost… surprised?  Could a turtle feel shock? She looked back toward the turtle, who not only definitely appeared shocked, but now seemed to be sort of panicking as well.  Its arms waved in the air, it tugged at its fashionable attire, and it seemed to be looking for a way out.  

Sometimes, despite her nature, Vic liked to pretend that the supernatural didn’t exist.  She pretended she wasn’t a vampire, that her daughter wasn’t a slayer, that this goddamn fucking town didn’t rain fish every other Tuesday or apparate random fucking chicken legs in the woods.  In this pretend world, everyone was crazy for believing in all of this, and she was the only sane one, clearly.  But sometimes, when push came to shove, she couldn’t pretend anymore.  She knew turtles couldn’t process complex emotions, or grow to the size of humans and stand on two legs, or wear a fashionable wardrobe.  And so it was time to admit that maybe the simplest answer was the most logical.

“Okay.  Panicking won’t help anything, you hear?  You cannot. Panic.”  She put her hands on the turtle’s shoulders, hoping to maybe bring them back to reality.  “Are you aware that you’re living in a town where the strange and unusual happen to the most unsuspecting of beings?”  You wouldn’t believe the amount of people in Wicked’s Rest who believed Vic’s fantasy no-supernatural narrative as truth, despite all the evidence in the world right in front of them.   “Nod for yes, shake for no.”  She wondered, briefly, if a humanized turtle could learn sign language.  

—

��Turtles are reptiles, not amphibians,” Felix squeaked, trying to calm themself down. Yelling orange repeatedly might have broken the rhyming curse they’d found themself saddled with months ago, but it didn’t seem to apply to the turtle situation. Maybe that shouldn’t have been all that surprising; after all, orange kind of went with the rhyme theme, but it had nothing to do with turtles. Maybe there was another word they needed to yell out here, some magical key to be found, but they couldn’t begin to fathom what it might be. They hadn’t even known they were a turtle until they’d seen themself reflected in Missy’s phone camera, after all. 

Missy might be able to help. She didn’t seem entirely panicked by the presence of a giant turtle, and maybe that meant she understood this sort of thing. Maybe she’d dealt with curses like this one before, had the experience necessary to help Felix figure out a solution. She was a reporter, wasn’t she? Maybe this could be traced back to some story she’d investigated in the past, some old source she could contact. Investigative journalists probably saw this kind of thing all the time, didn’t they? 

In any case, she seemed capable of calm, and that was good. She took charge quickly, putting her hands on his shoulders and instructing them to be calm. Felix nodded, taking a few deep, steadying breaths in an attempt to do just that. They were a turtle. That was fine. They were a jaguar sometimes, too. This kind of thing happened. 

At Missy’s question, the turtle gave a firm, exaggerated nod. Yes, they were aware that they lived in a strange town where strange things happened. Missy was aware of the same, which seemed to confirm his earlier theory; investigative journalists knew exactly how to solve problems like this. Felix tugged at the turtleneck again, feeling hot with the stress of the situation. 

—

Vic nodded back, matching the turtle’s assumed determination.  Good.  If they knew the truth about where they lived, that meant that Vic wouldn’t have to spend hours explaining the weirdest of weird to them.  Whatever bullshit they had been saddled with would just be accepted, and they would laugh about this one day.  Hopefully.  She’d never laughed with a turtle before.

She furrowed her eyebrows as the turtle tugged at their neck.  Their turtle-neck.  “Hold on-”, she said, grabbing the neck of the turtleneck herself.  She looked at it closely, effectively pulling Trevor the turtle closer to her as she did so (that must have been their name, right?  Because most turtles were named Trevor).  Years ago, when she’d first arrived in town and was working at the silver bullet, she remembered hearing tell about a shop that claimed to sell ‘authentic cashmere sweaters’.  Which was true enough, except everyone who had bought and worn the sweaters were purportedly turning into goats the moment they were snug inside.  It was some sort of PETA revenge, she had surmised at the time, for the undercoats that had been stolen from cashmere goats to actually make the sweaters.

Did some idiot in town think that turtlenecks were made from turtles?

She let go of the neck, letting Trevor settle back down.  “I think your extremely stylish clothing might be cursed, Trevor”, she said matter-of-factly, looking them directly in their turtle-y eyes.  “Do you remember feeling any different when you put that thing on this morning?”

—

Missy grabbed the turtleneck Felix was wearing, pulling them closer to inspect it. At least they could rest easy in the fact that, in spite of the drama of the day, the turtleneck looked just as nice as they’d hoped it would when pulling it on this morning. Felix wasn’t one for fashion, but they liked to think this particular choice was a good one. And Missy seemed very fashionable, so if she liked it, wasn’t that proof? Though still stressed, Felix let themself relax in the sweater. It would look better if they weren’t tense, they thought; Missy would be able to appreciate it more.

She let go of his neck, and Felix let themself pull back a little, smoothing it out. They grinned… up until the moment Missy shared her theory that the turtleneck was cursed. Frowning, Felix looked down at it. “It was a prize,” they said, a little mournful. “I got it for building a sandcastle.” Which… come to think of it, was kind of a strange prize. 

Realizing that their words meant nothing so long as they were turtled, they nodded slowly. Maybe there had been a strange sensation when they’d pulled the turtleneck on, but they’d thought it was just a boost of confidence. Slowly, Felix removed his arms from the sleeves, quietly grateful that he’d put on a t-shirt under the sweater. It would be a bit chilly to stand in the crisp autumn air of Maine with only a t-shirt on, but it was probably preferable to being a turtle. With a deep breath, Felix pulled the turtleneck over their head.

—

The poor turtle was forlorn and disappointed, and Vic understood.  It must have been embarrassing to wear a cursed sweater, no matter how fashionable.  Vic would not mock them, for she was an upstanding citizen.  They croaked out a response, and Vic nodded with sympathy, the way she might with Rosie when one of her crayons break.  

But, thankfully, as forlorn as the fashionable turtle was, they also seemed to be understanding, and Vic nodded in triumph.  She liked a turtle who knew how to get over it.  And then, the turtle was stripping, right there in the middle of the sidewalk, and Vic certainly hoped they had an undershirt on.  Otherwise she’d have to make a citizen’s arrest when this was all over.  

It was as if pulling the shirt over their head had flipped a switch and suddenly, instead of a sad, giant turtle in front of her, it was the fighter from the Grit Pit, the one who she’d convinced her name was Missy Spitz and interrogated to get more information.  God, was the Grit Pit cursing their fighters now, too?

“Felix?” she asked, reaching out to touch their shoulder.  She wondered if it would feel scaly, like she imagined a turtle’s skin would.  “Did your employer do this to you?  Will this finally give you courage to step away from their vicious methods?”

—

They didn’t feel any different after taking off the turtleneck. It was difficult to know, for a moment, if anything had changed at all. A few people were still glancing their way, but Felix couldn’t be sure if it was because they were still a giant turtle or if seeing a giant turtle strip off its turtleneck and turn into a person was the kind of thing that attracted attention, even after the last of the scales disappeared. (Did turtles have scales, actually? Felix found they weren’t sure. They thought they ought to ask Anita or Wyatt, but then they thought that asking one of them such a question might be seen as offensive. He should probably just google it instead.)

Missy’s face flashed with recognition, answering the question before Felix had to ask it. She hadn’t recognized him when he was a turtle, but clearly they were something more familiar now. Shoulders slumping in relief, Felix offered her a small, sheepish smile. “Hi, Missy.” Was she going to write a story about this? It seemed like the kind of thing an investigative journalist would do, though Felix’s only real knowledge about the career came from television shows and movies. Maybe the lack of tangible proof would prevent any story from being written. That was probably preferable. 

Her hand found their shoulder, and the touch felt just the same as it had when he was a turtle. It was strange. From Felix’s perspective, nothing had actually changed. But from Missy’s? It was clear that things were different now. “My — What? Uh, no, they — they didn’t do this.” They felt strange, as if they were defending the employer they hated, but they couldn’t really claim that this was the Grit Pit’s fault. “Um, I — I can’t really — I don’t —” Stammering, Felix balled the turtleneck between their hands. “Uh, thanks for — for helping me out of there!” Not a smooth transition, but it was all they had at the moment. “I appreciate it.”

—

Felix looked even more defeated than the turtle version of them had previously.  It was interesting, to say the least, and if Vic were a social scientist she might have thought of investing some time in studying the comparisons between the emotions of turtle Felix and those of human Felix.  Perhaps that turtleneck was useful for more than its fashion.  She felt a pang of guilt when he immediately referred to her as Missy, and she wondered what other lies Felix went through life believing.  

Vic never knew how to reply to thanks other than with an insult or indifference, and she looked at the ground awkwardly as Felix stammarred out their appreciation.  “I only spoke words of logic, you got yourself out of this.” She reached forward to grab the dangling turtleneck in her hands, still unsure how she felt about the thing.  “Perhaps you should burn it”.

While it was a relief the Grit Pit wasn’t giving cursed merchandise to their fighters, Vic still didn’t like the idea of Felix continuing to work there.  “Or perhaps you would like to burn down your pit of grit with me.  I think we could work together to gather enough evidence to make it appear accidental.”  She pressed her lips together, only half joking. Maybe facing such an injustice as cursed fashion would make Felix ready to fight back against their sad situation.  “Clearly they’re not paying you enough, I mean, if you’re scrounging around doing contests just to be able to be awarded with new clothes.  Are you in need of money, Felix?  I have some friends with mountains of wealth that could provide you with some comfort.”

The friend ‘Missy’ was referring to was, of course, herself, but this little charade was too fun to give up.  “Perhaps I can pass along your number?”, she asked, holding out her hand expectedly.  

—

“It would have taken me a while to figure it out without you,” Felix admitted, though they knew they were probably being a little too generous towards themself. If Missy hadn’t been here, would Felix have figured out the turtleneck was the root of the problem at all? Would he have even known there was a problem? In all likelihood, they would have simply gone about their day unaware until something dangerous happened. (It wasn’t as if a ranger who might have happened upon them thinking they were a fully shifted lamia would have been easily proven wrong; the same sense that would have told them a lamia was present would go off for a balam, too. Or did it feel different depending on the species? How much would it have mattered?) 

They looked down at the sweater, now bundled in their arms. Burning it was probably a wise plan, but… “It feels a little mean, doesn’t it? I don’t think it’s the sweater’s fault.” Maybe they’d keep it; maybe it would come in handy someday, somehow. Or maybe Wyatt would just really get a kick out of it if Felix showed him.

Vic mentioned burning the Grit Pit next, and Felix looked up with an uncertain jolt of fear. “Oh, that’s not — I mean, I don’t know if that’s the best, um, idea?” They’d gotten into trouble for such small things in the past. They hated to imagine the kind of retribution that might be sought against them for even entertaining the idea of burning the Pit to the ground. “And, uh, I really entered the contest just, you know, more for fun than to, uh, win anything. I just thought it would be a good time! I don’t — It’s really nice of you to offer, but I don’t need any money.”

They offered Missy a small, grateful smile. “You’re a really good friend, Missy. Maybe I can come by sometime and show your daughter the turtle thing to say thanks.” That seemed like a good use for the sweater. And, with that, Felix had found the silver lining. Most days, that was the only thing they could really ask for.

[not-a-space-alien]

K&J x MMSS 3: Kane & Valen Part 9

Chapter 9 of the third crossover with @whumpsday!

K&J masterlist

MMSS masterlist

K&J x MMSS crossover masterlist

SERIES IS 18+ ONLY.

Warnings:  Aftermath of torture, misgendering of a transmasculine character (non-malicious), mentions of rape (off-screen)

To be added to the taglist, contact @whumpsday

***

Unsurprisingly, Jim finds out via the phone call that Liz is not pleased with the situation. Bringing Kane home is bad enough, but a second vampire who has persuasion?

"It's okay, she's nice,” Jim reassures her. “And she's like, really fucked up and needed help. The both of them can barely stand."

“How do you know she's nice if you can't even talk to her?" Liz shoots back.

"I gave her a notepad so she can write."

After a pregnant pause, Liz’s voice comes back, suddenly sounding like she’s freaking out. "Jim. Vampires can use persuasion through writing."

Jim is completely thrown off by this information. "But... but she didn't. She hasn't used persuasion."

"I'm coming over right now. Don't look at anything else she writes. Don't let her know you know."

Jim decides to just hide out in his room until Liz gets there, replacing the phone in its cradle with shaking hands and dashing upstairs. He hides under the bed, just for good measure. It’s never saved him, but it makes him feel a little bit safer.

Liz arrives and lets herself in. She's wearing her belt with all her hunting gear: stakes and silver weapons alike. She doesn't see anyone, with the vampires in the basement and Jim upstairs. "Jim?"

Jim comes downstairs cautiously and walks right into her arms. "Hey."

Liz holds him protectively. "Where are the vampires?"

"Um..." He looks around, not seeing them. "They can't have just gone, it's day. Maybe they're downstairs, where I set Kane up?"

"Okay, I'll go check." Liz starts to go, but Jim grabs her before she can.

"Wait. I don't want you to scare them. They're... not in good shape." Jim warns. "Let me tell them what's going on first."

"You're not going down there alone."

"Fine, then follow me." Jim descends the stairs, Liz behind him. 

Kane and Valen had been frozen on the bed listening to the conversation upstairs with their superior hearing, on edge from the sickeningly familiar sounds of hunting gear jingling, and both start to stir as Jim’s feet come down into view.

"Hey guys, this is my sister, Liz. She just wanted to check out-"

Kane spots the hunting gear, confirming his suspicions, and immediately panics. He shoves Valen behind him like he used to do at the hunters', and Valen's throat automatically makes the motions for a soundless little squeak as he's suddenly shoved against the wall. "P-please, Jim, please, j-just don't hurt her, please, it was me who hurt you, she didn't do anything."

Valen’s heart pounds. Jim had just said I don’t want you to scare them, so…? For what purpose could he intend to have this woman hurt them, but not scare them? It must be just another safety precaution, Valen decides.

Valen's confinement had taken place mostly in the same room as all the objects used to hurt him, in contrast to Kane, who only saw them when they were going to hurt him, so Valen is less scared of them being in the same room than Kane is. He doesn't automatically assume they're going to be used on either of them. He does know it's a very distinct possibility, or probability, especially in Kane's case, being everyone agrees he probably deserves it, so Valen is scared of the thought anyway.

He decides that if they're going to hurt Kane and not him, he's not going to let go of Kane, he's going to cling to Kane the way Kane had clung to him and had to be pried off when they'd been separated initially. It’s all Valen could really do at this point--his notebook is a bit out of reach, over on the floor, and he doubts this hunter would be interested in reading anything he wrote anyway....she probably knows that-

Oh God, she probably knew Jim had been at risk from Valen. Maybe she is angry at Valen, and not Kane. Valen starts shaking with terror. Maybe the pulling of his vocal cords is going to continue, or the wretched bare silver muzzle is going to come back on. He'd thought he wouldn't be afraid of pain anymore here, but it feels like going backwards is too much, because who knows how far back they would slide? 

"No one's hurting anyone." Jim assures. "Yes, she's a hunter, but she's not going to hurt you. Either of you. Right, Liz?"

Liz glares at Kane with burning hatred. "Right."

Kane is not calmed, and continues to protectively shield Valen with his body, letting out a small whimper.

Valen taps Kane again, and pats his back in what he hopes is a comforting way. He raises his head to look at the new arrival. Liz, his sister, Jim had said.

Valen is instantly a little bit smitten. This is a kind of person he doesn’t get to see very much, a woman who looks and acts a bit like a man. Her glare is quite scary, unfortunately, but she's probably just being protective of her little brother--he assumes Jim is the younger sibling, with the way Liz is shielding him.

But Jim is kind, and maybe Liz is too, even though she's a hunter. There had been good hunters, ones that didn't like hurting people. Valen gently pries himself out from behind Kane and, being very, very, very, very brave despite his terror, gives as much of a smile as he can manage and holds a hand out for a handshake. Maybe this is good, right?

Liz sighs. "This is a mess. I'd shake your hand, but I'm pretty sure this one will burst into tears if I get any closer." She nods toward Kane. Suddenly, a realization hits her. "Wait. You said Valen? Valen Kithrara?"

"She's not- the blood farms- she didn't do anything!" Kane pleads, clinging to Valen. "She just married in, she's not responsible, I swear!"

"I'm not going to hurt- her." Liz realizes that she's heard about Valen before, those experiments they’d been doing in the other branch. She’d gotten mixed feelings about them at the time. Torture is wrong, but it was saving human lives…

Now that she sees Valen’s state for herself, she can’t help but think how naive she’d been to think it’s remotely okay.

The person she’d heard about it from had referred to the vampire as a man, though. But she figures that if Valen has had the opportunity to communicate and that fact isn't known, he probably feels safer closeted. She decides not to say anything about it. "I just... okay, Jim, I see what you mean." she concedes. They really don't seem dangerous.

She snatches the notebook and pen off the floor. "You haven't hypnotized my brother. Why?" She tosses them to Valen. "Don't show us. Show Kane and have him read it off."

Valen lowers his hand slowly, a bit disappointed. He flinches back a little as Liz tosses the notebook at him. Why didn't I hypnotize Jim? For some reason it seems hard to explain. Maybe he should have, to get away while they could, before this scary hunter came over.

Valen takes the pen and writes Jim is being kind to us. There's no reason to, and he doesn't deserve it. He hopes that will be sufficient and hands it to Kane.

"Jim is being kind to us." Kane reads. "There's no reason to, and he doesn't deserve it." He looks up. "She's right, ma'am."

"Oh." Jim says softly. "That's... thanks."

Liz considers this for a moment. She figures Jim hasn't even thought about how to feed them yet, given his issues. She doesn't give a fuck what happens to Kane, but this other vampire has been through hell and back and seems innocent. He even spared Jim when he had the opportunity. But they can't just let him go, because he could come back for Kane. "Maybe... I could take one, so there's less danger." she suggests.

The two vampires snap together as though attracted by magnetism.

"NO, PLEASE!" Kane holds tighter to Valen. "P-please, ma'am, please don't separate us!"

Valen's eyes widen and he shakes his head from side to side as he clings to Kane back.

"Please, I love her." Kane pleads tearfully. "Please, I just got her back. Please."

"Okay, we won't. It's okay. Nothing bad is gonna happen." Jim soothes.

Part of Liz wants to bite back about how Kane separated her and Jim for years and didn't care then. But she restrains herself. This isn't just about Kane. Valen looks terrified, and Liz genuinely feels bad for him, a possible innocent in all this. "Fine. Then I guess..." She sighs again. "You still have the padded muzzle. You can put that on Valen after she heals up. I guess this can work. At least put the ankle cuffs back on."

"That muzzle doesn't hurt." Kane whispers, though he's disappointed he won't be able to hear Valen’s voice.

Valen is also disappointed that the muzzle will apparently be going back on, but he'd expected it. At least Jim and Liz seem nice enough to give their concerns a fair chance, and only do things that would make sense for their safety. That's way more than either Kane or Valen had got in the past.

"Right. I forgot. Um, I only have the one..." Jim trails off.

"Put 'em on Kane for now and I'll swing by with another one tomorrow." Liz instructs.

Jim does so, and Kane obediently holds his legs out for them to be locked on.

"One last thing. Can I borrow your notebook for a second, Valen?" Liz asks.

That makes Valen nervous. He isn't convinced Liz is going to give it back, and he suddenly scrambles to think if he'd written anything in it that he wouldn't want Liz to see. But he hands it over nervously.

Liz doesn't look at what Valen's written, just flips to a new page and writes something, and hands it back to Valen. "It was nice meeting you. I'll be back tomorrow." She doesn't say anything to Kane.

She and Jim head upstairs, closing the door this time. The exact conversation between the humans upstairs isn’t quite audible, but it’s obvious Jim is panicked, and enough can be heard to discern they’re discussing the matter of feeding them.

Guilt radiates through Kane. Jim is panicking because of him. Valen will have to go without blood because of him. And he's so scared they'll change their minds and separate them. That one of them will have to go with the huntress.

While Kane stews in that, Valen reads what Liz had written in his notepad. I've heard about you from the experiments, and I heard you're a guy. I didn't say anything cuz I figured if they didn't know, you probably didn't want them to know. You're safe here. My partner is trans too. Jim will be cool if you tell him, and we can get you anything you need.

Valen is shocked and a little startled to read the note and be informed after the fact that he'd been speaking with someone who'd known he was trans. Jim will be cool if you tell him... That’s promising. We can get you anything you need. Does that refer just to things related to being trans, like binders? Or does it mean other things also? Because as badly as Valen wants to get back on testosterone again, there are......some other things that would definitely be higher on the list of things we would want to ask for.

Like blood, but given the conversation he currently overhears upstairs, it seems like that’s going to be off the table for a while. Valen's thoughts drift back to his experiments with the artificial blood. Should he...should he tell them about that? Should he offer to try and continue, to feed himself and Kane, even if as a stopgap? He hates the idea of making anyone else drink that rubbish. He only did it because he was trying to improve it, and wanted to drink less real human blood. But it tasted awful, and it wasn't as nutritious. He doesn't want to start making it again and have Jim and Liz think they wouldn't need real blood eventually. Valen had tried to go without real blood entirely for about two months partway through the project, and his nails and hair had started falling out, and he'd started getting dizzy at random times. It definitely wasn't sufficient as a sole source of nutrition, it could just stave off hunger for a while. And it would probably be an uphill battle to convince them he’s telling the truth, especially if he has to write everything out, and even harder to convince them to take him to his house to get all his supplies...

Maybe he could just decide what to do about that later. For now he can just wait and see what Jim wants to do. Liz's note also prompts him to think about finally bringing up his identity, now that the circumstances are perhaps a little less dire. He’ll tell Jim later, but it seems like it’s finally time to tell Kane.

After the shock of the hunter's visit wears off, and Kane seems comfortable again, Valen writes on the notepad, Can I tell you something I haven't had the opportunity to until now?

Valen’s note interrupts Kane from wallowing in his guilt. "Of course! I'm so glad you can tell me things now. What is it?"

God, it feels a lot harder to explain when he has to write everything out with his still a little unsteady hand. You didn’t see it because the testosterone had already worn off, but when I first arrived at the hunter’s compound, I looked quite different. I had body hair, and facial hair, and my face was less round. I usually prefer to bind my chest. I think of myself as a man. I hope this doesn’t change anything? His face grows redder and redder, waiting anxiously for Kane's response.

"Oh!" Kane's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He wasn't expecting this. He stares at the note for a moment, gears turning in his head. "Like a transsexual?"

Valen nods. He’s drawn back, being less touchy-feely now. He writes, I probably should have told you sooner. I'm sorry.

"You couldn't have exactly told me much sooner, we only spoke for the first time recently. But, um, yes, I... support." Kane gives an awkward thumbs-up. "No, of course it doesn't change anything. I'm not- I support, you know, everyone. My best friend growing up was gay. I-"

Am I gay?

The thought hits him like a truck. If he loves Valen, and Valen’s a man, then that means he loves a man.

Kane decides to set that aside for now, tapping Valen on the arm 3 times before hugging him. "I love you."

Valen beams, hugging Kane so, so tightly. There, it'd been that easy. He didn't know why it wouldn't have been that easy.

“It's crazy how we've known each other for months and I'm only just now learning something so important about you. I apologize for referring to you as a woman before this."

Valen nods and gives a dismissive wave. It’s not like Kane’d had any way of knowing.

He releases Kane, sighing, looking wistfully up at the door to upstairs, and then at the manacles around Kane's ankles. He writes I don't suppose we're going to be fed here, then. I had guessed as much, but Jim is so kind I had hoped a little.

Kane glowers. "I'm sorry. It's my fault. I stole his blood every day for years, and made it a miserable experience. No wonder he's terrified."

Valen shrugs. Not like there's anything to be done about it now.

The thought of going without eating forever is starting to get to Valen, though. He would be perfectly happy staying here in Jim's basement for as long as Jim wanted, except for having to resign himself to being this hungry for the rest of his life is just a little too much to handle. And...he has a feeling that no matter how much he likes Jim, and no matter how much he knows Jim doesn't deserve it, the temptation to give in to the hunger and attack Jim is probably going to eventually be too much for Valen to bear. Kane may have the willpower to restrain himself from biting, but Valen doesn't.

But they couldn't make Jim and Liz give them blood. That was why Valen had started that ill-fated project in the first place. It was just so unfair for both humans and vampires that it was like this. It had been the only solution he could think of, even if all signs pointed to it being impossible to actually accomplish.

Valen sighs and picks up the pencil. They’re now facing the very same problem that Valen had spent the past years of his life trying to solve. Might as well open this can of worms with Kane. Not like they had much else to do until Jim decides to open the door. I was vague about my interests earlier, but the thing I pursued in my past was science. I had started a project to try and make artificial blood. Do you think we should bring it up to Jim?

Kane reads the note in astonishment, breaking out into a grin. "Valen, that's amazing! We should absolutely tell Jim, maybe he'd let us feed if it doesn't have to come from a human! Did it work?"

Valen fidgets with the pencil dejectedly, breaking eye contact, hoping that Kane won't make him actually spell out his failure.

"...Oh. But, but you were working on it! If you were working on it, that means you thought you could actually do it. Make blood. Right?" Kane prompts. "It's possible?"

Valen regrets bringing it up now. He'd hoped it was possible. He wasn't sure if it actually was. Everyone had told him it wasn't. He'd been trying, at least, so... He must have thought he could do it, right?

Valen writes, I'd made some progress, but the hunters took me before I could finish it. It's not enough, but it can stave off hunger for a little while.

"Staving off hunger is great!" Kane enthuses. "It doesn't need to be enough. Anything is better than just starving. That's incredible. How much... how much does it make the hunger go away? How much does it still hurt after?"

Valen blushes. I've never drank it when I was hungry enough for it to be painful. But the hunger is less intense, it feels like a stone in your stomach. Or water. You feel full, but not fed. 

"That's great! That's so much better than this!" Kane is very excited now, beaming at him. "Could you do it? You could do it here, make us blood? We have to tell Jim. I bet it would make him less scared, too."

I would need a lot of supplies. I have them all at my house, but I'm not sure if we could convince Jim to take us there. Or Liz to let him do so.

"Oh." Kane deflates. "They definitely won't let us go to vampire territory to get supplies."

Upstairs, Jim and Liz are still talking about blood, but quieter. Only vague snippets like 'feed' and the vampires' names can be heard. They sound like they're arguing, but not intensely.

Valen can imagine the way the argument is going. He's not holding his breath. He shakes his head. I own a home on human territory. It's why I was captured here.

Kane's eyes widen. "You lived in human territory? That's... wow. You're, you're really brave, Valen." He's becoming more and more awed by him by the minute.

Valen feels a little awkward being praised like that. Valen had never felt very brave. He'd been constantly terrified, scuttling around like a bug trying to avoid humans, his heart in his throat if anyone so much as looked at him. If he thought that was impressive, Kane would be absolutely floored when he finds out Valen went out during the day.... Of course, that had been before Valen actually knew what sunlight felt like. He might not be so bold now. And look where his bravery had landed him.

Jim opens the door. "I just wanted to let you know that we're gonna get you some blood. Liz's treat." He forces a smile.

Valen picks up on the obvious discomfort in Jim's voice, but he's ecstatic nonetheless. Maybe they wouldn't need to fight the uphill battle of convincing them to get equipment and supplies for imitation blood after all. He gives Kane's arm a few excited taps, trying to squeal with delight.

"Really?" Kane asks, stunned. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! Jim, I, I don't know what to say, thank you so much!" He tears up a little, emotional about the fact that he's actually going to be fed.

"Yeah, 'course. Uh, so Liz is gonna just let you feed directly, says it'll be easier that way right now. 'Specially because Valen doesn't exactly... have lips right now, to drink out of a cup or whatever. Your mouth looks pretty bad, would you still be able to feed normally?" Jim asks.

Valen wrings his hands. He's not sure, but he's afraid that if he says no, they'll change their minds about feeding him, thinking it too much effort. No alternative is immediately obvious to him. He can at least give it a try. He still has his teeth, and that's really all he needs. He gives a thumbs-up.

Jim takes them both upstairs. Liz has removed her jacket. "Okay, you're only each getting half a meal, since I'm just one person and Jim's off-limits. You hear me? Off limits."

"Yes, ma'am." Kane says immediately, clinging to Valen. "I-I understand. Thank you so much for feeding us. We're so, so grateful."

Valen scribbles THANK YOU LIZ. He's too afraid to write I LOVE YOU like he had for Jim, because Liz is scarier, but he adds:

I've never fed directly from a human before. What is the best way to do it, that will make you most comfortable?

Liz immediately looks away before reading, then considers, sighs, and looks at the note. She figures by now that Valen's not going to use persuasion on her. Even if he did, both vampires are too weak to overpower Jim, and Jim could just call for help. It's daytime. She smiles as soon as she reads it.

"I dunno, I've never been fed from before. Bitten, sure, but not fed from." she admits. "That's sweet of you, though. Just do your best. And not the neck. Let's try the arm, yeah? That’s how they do it at the doctor. Who's going first?"

Jim looks like he might pass out, but he doesn't want to leave the room.

"You." Kane insists, nudging Valen forward a little. "I got to feed during the experiments. You go first."

Valen does not argue, feeling relieved and selfish. He creeps forward and crouches, taking Liz's arm, feeling goblin-like. He gives her one last glance, as though to give her a chance to change her mind, before opening the skin. He doesn't actually bite--He was one of the few vampires that had studied human wound healing, a subject very few vampires found much use for, considering it a subset of veterinary medicine--but he knows that a shallower wound will heal faster and not be as painful. So he drags his fang across to make a cut, holding Liz's arm delicately, taking dainty, gentle sips.

Jim watches this whole process with extreme anxiety. Saying that seeing his sister be fed from is very unpleasant for him would be an understatement. He fights the urge to push Valen away from her, protect her from the vampires using her as food.

Kane has been starving for two weeks: he is very hungry, but not to the point he can't control himself. He waits patiently for his turn.

Valen doesn't lick the wound closed when he's finished, because he figures it would be optimal for them to feed from the same cut, leaving it open for Kane. He steps back and gives a gesture that's half a bow, half a curtsey, dipping and holding it with gratitude.

"Great! That went well." Liz smiles at Valen, but her face falls and becomes icy when she turns to look at Kane. "Your turn."

Kane is very nervous. "Yes, ma'am." he says meekly, approaching her.

"Wait." Jim steps in front of Liz suddenly. "Don't touch her. Feed from me."

"Jim, you don't have to-" Liz starts.

"I want to." Jim shoves his arm out, but he's shaking. The only thing more unappealing than Kane feeding from him again is watching Kane feed from Liz. Not that. He can’t let that happen, ever. No matter what he has to do.

Kane looks back and forth between Jim and Liz anxiously, waiting for confirmation.

"It's fine." Jim insists, very much looking like it's not fine. "It's nothing we haven't done before."

Kane hesitantly takes his arm. "I'm not going to hurt you." he says softly. "It's different now. If you tell me to stop, I'll stop."

"Okay." Jim can’t watch, his fist curled so tightly his knuckles go white. "Go."

Liz goes to hold Jim’s other hand while Kane feeds. He copies what Valen did. He drinks half a meal, because that’s what he was told to do, then licks it closed. "Thank you, Jim. Thank you."

Jim nods. "I'm gonna go lay down. Liz, can you... finish up here?"

"Yeah. Go lay down, big guy." Liz pats him on the back as he goes, then turns to Valen and holds out her arm. "You can finish."

Valen feels sorry for Jim. He knows what Kane did to him, and how scary it must be for him. He thinks Jim must be so very brave, and so very kind.  He wants to give Jim a gift of some kind, but he has nothing at the moment. Maybe later he can think of something.

He meekly steps forward and drinks a bit more blood from Liz, then licks it closed. He holds up the paper that says THANK YOU LIZ again. He knows this is stressful and unpleasant for them. He thinks about the artificial blood again, but he doesn't dare ask Liz alone without Jim there. Maybe later, when the two vampires have earned some more trust, they could discuss it. Valen steps back and takes Kane's hand.

Kane's eyes are squarely on Liz, and he grips Valen's hand tight. He knows Liz hates him, and he's just fed from Jim in front of her.

Liz does give him a glare. Kane leans in closer to Valen, and she sighs, looking to Valen, too. "I'll be back tomorrow. And the next day. Think of anything you need, and I'll go get it. Time to go back in the basement."

Valen gives a little excited bounce. He scribbles out quickly on the notepad, I can do seamstress work if you get me supplies. So Jim does not have to keep lending us his own clothes. And I would like to make a gift for him, and I can sew something for you as well. I can sew men's and women's clothes.

Liz gives a small smile and leads them back to the basement. "You got it. I'll grab some already-together clothes, too."

"Thank you so much for your help, ma'am." Kane says quietly.

Liz sours instantly as she looks at him. "One last thing. If either of you hurt him, I will kill you. And Valen's not the one I'm worried about."

Kane nods vigorously. "I wouldn't. Never again."

"Good." She sighs. "Back tomorrow with sewing stuff."

She locks them in the basement and goes to check on Jim.

"That... that couldn't have gone better." Kane says quietly.

Valen nods and gives him a long hug. He writes, Jim was so brave. I hope he is OK. That must have been very stressful for him. And I can tell Liz is annoyed. I suspect she would not be so helpful if it were just you alone. Maybe that's why she wanted to take me off Jim's hands.

Kane shudders and holds him tighter, aware of the fact that Valen is basically all that's keeping him safe. "Yes. I wish so, so badly I could just take it all back. That I could just never have hurt him. Thank you for protecting me."

You protected me first.

Kane leans down slightly and kisses Valen on the forehead. "I always will."

Valen gets flush with warm feelings. He's never felt so genuinely safe with anyone before. He's starting to feel like no matter what horrible situation he finds himself in, Kane being there would always make it a little better somehow. Everyone who had ever loved him had conditioned that love on certain things, wanted him to behave or be a certain way, but with Kane, it feels like no matter what happens, nothing could lessen the feeling of caring for each other.

Before they go to sleep, Valen asks Kane to sing to him again, and he does so, an older love song from back home in vampire territory.

Afterwards, cuddled into Valen's side, he timidly asks, "Are we... a thing?" He's not too sure. He feels like this is what romance is, but he's never been in a relationship before and wants to be sure. Friends say I love you, too.

Valen rolls over and gives him an exasperated look

Kane laughs, his anxiety suddenly gone. "Okay, okay. That was stupid of me. I… guess that makes me gay, doesn't it? My parents would disown me. I don't even care." It feels exhilarating, to finally have a love that he doesn't need to reach desperately for.

Valen gives him the wishy-washy hand wobble signal. Eh. Yeah, kind of does, he thinks. A little. Scary to realize, huh?

Valen reaches for his notepad and pulls it up onto the bed. He writes, Why should we care about the opinions of those who don't even consider humans as fully people? What could they possibly be correct about?

"Yeah. You're right." Kane nuzzles into his shoulder. "I'm glad I found you, even if it took all that."

Valen writes, My husband is convinced that I'll come to my senses and start behaving properly any day now. I've asked him to sign the divorce paperwork many times, but I can't get him to. I suspect my family and yours would get along just as well as you and I do.

"If we're ever free, I'll march right down to Priscus and tell him you're taken." Kane says with a grin. "Bet that wouldn't look too proper."

Valen smiles, turning over and backing into Kane so that they're spooning, wanting to fall asleep that way. It's cozy.

***

Things continue rather peacefully for the next few days. Jim starts using a blood draw kit, but Liz just lets Valen feed directly from her. She brings over clothes, including binders, and sewing stuff. Kane asks Valen to teach him to sew, so they can do it together. Valen comes out to Jim, and everything seems to be going well.

One day, when the three are in the living room together, Jim gets a phone call.

“Hey, Jim, how are you? It’s Chase. Just calling on behalf of the vampire hunters to check up on ya. Just wanted to make sure everything went okay with the leeches after pickup. Your sister and your local branch handled disposal after you were done, right?"

Kane gasps, his blood running cold at the sound of his tormenter's voice. He immediately takes Valen's hand, pressing into him fearfully.

Valen doesn't have the same Pavlovian conditioning as Kane about this voice, but he certainly recognizes it and knows to fear it. Valen puts an arm around Kane and gives his hand a reassuring squeeze. He does three taps on Kane's shoulder, then looks up at Jim with wary eyes, trying not to cry.

Jim glances at the vampires briefly. This is not good. "Uh, no, they're uh, still kickin'. Not literally. Listen, this isn't a good time." He wants to talk to this bastard as little as possible.

"I'll get out of your hair, then," Chase says agreeably. "Shit, good on you for having the balls to not go for it right away after what that one did to you. Especially after it took out the researcher at the other branch."

Jim freezes. "What?"

"Valen," Kane whispers urgently, feeling impossibly trapped. It's daytime, and they've been fed a little, but they're both still so weak. His stomach feels like it's made of ice. 

Jim..... doesn't know that Kane killed Nick. He doesn't know, and clearly this is unwelcome news.

Valen's mind also races to the possibility of escape. They can't die now, or be sent back, they can't, things have just started to finally, somehow, get better. Valen trembles, gripping Kane firmly, hoping against hope that maybe somehow Jim will understand.

Kane starts to cry, clinging to Valen. He hopes that whatever punishment he's given doesn't involve Valen being hurt, too. He hopes it's anything but being sent back. Even if it's the sun for a month, that would end. Being sent back would be forever.

"Yeah, the parasites were at a different branch before, but the fucker killed its keeper and ran. They were halfway back to vampire territory when we caught 'em. Shit, did no one tell you? I thought someone would’ve mentioned it to you or your sister. Guess everyone else thought the same shit. You need someone to come help you out?"

Kane sobs into Valen, shivering. Valen's eyes widen at that. Just Jim, Valen felt like they had a shot at reasoning with. But if any of them came over...

Valen pleadingly shakes his head at Jim. Please. Please just let it be over.

Part of Jim wants to say yes. He wants to say Yes, this is too much, I'm scared, help me.

"N-no. I can handle it," Jim stammers instead. "Bye." He places the receiver back on the hook, but doesn't let go of it as he turns to look fearfully at Kane.

"Please!" Kane wails, hysterical. "I'm sorry! Please please please, I'll be good, please don't make me go back!"

Valen keeps his grip firmly on Kane and moves himself in between them. Pressing Kane back into the wall protectively, just as Kane had done for him so many times.

I can fix this. I can fix this. We're all just scared.

He reaches a placating hand out to Jim. He's afraid to make any sudden movements, to reach for his notepad to say something.

Jim flinches back, letting go of the phone as he steps further and further away. They're vampires and there's two of them and one has persuasion and the other is Kane and he killed someone.

"No," Jim squeaks, wincing when he remembers he's not supposed to be defiant. He stares back at Valen with wide, terrified eyes. "Please don't hurt me, sir." The words sound odd in his mouth: he never even begged much back when he was Kane's, but he can't afford not to now.

Oh. Valen had expected Jim to be angry, or demand an explanation... but of course he would just be scared. So, so scared. Jim didn't know, how could he?

Not letting go of Kane, Valen reaches over and gets his notepad, sliding it over and scribbling out quickly. Valen has always been.....verbose, but he realizes he needs to keep it short and simple.

JIM

I PROMISE YOU'RE SAFE

KANE HAD A VERY GOOD REASON TO KILL THAT MAN

Jim looks away immediately, before he can read what's on the paper. His eyes well up with tears. He's going to use persuasion on me. They're vampires. They're faster than me. I won't be able to get out the door. Just like at Kane's.

Kane, trembling, reaches out to turn the paper around. Valen is trying to help, to convince Jim, and he needs more than anything for that to succeed.

"It- it says, J-Jim, I promise you're safe, Kane had a very good reason to- to kill th-that man," Kane reads, voice shaky with tears. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to h-hurt anyone anymore, but he just, he wouldn't stop. He w-wouldn't stop hurting us, I know I, I deserve it, but Valen doesn't!" he cries. "Please, I understand if- if you need to p-puish me. Please don't hurt him." Despite his words, he continues cowering behind Valen.

Jim knows that feeling. He'd planned to kill Kane, after all. He tries to tell himself it's okay, it's not like before, he's not going to be hurt. "Okay," he says quietly, practically a whisper. "I won't. I won't hurt either of you. So just, please don't." 

Valen scribbles out on the notepad again.

We won't hurt you

You saved us

I would do anything for you

Kane killed him to save me from being tortured and raped every day

We wouldn't hurt you

Kane chokes on his voice and can't bring himself to read this one out loud.

Figuring the vampires could probably overpower him together even in their weakened state and so whether Valen uses persuasion is meaningless, Jim slowly turns around.

He fills with sadness as he reads the note. "Oh," he says softly. "Yeah. That'll do it."

Kane looks to him with desperation for a long moment, wondering what his punishment will be decided as.

Jim looks him straight in the eye. "You did the right thing."

Kane certainly wasn't expecting that. "R-really?"

"Yeah," Jim confirms. "Hell, I wasn't thinking right, I was too panicky. Even without that stuff, he was hurting you and holding you captive. Of course you'd defend yourself." 

Valen is overtaken by such intense relief that for a moment all he can do is cry, clutching Kane and sobbing into his chest. After a moment of that, he reaches out and takes Jim's hands, unsure of how to communicate the thunderstorm of emotions rolling over him, grateful tears brimming over in his eyes.

Jim holds Valen's hand gently. "I won't hurt you either," he assures him, starting to calm down himself. "You're safe here, too."

Valen starts to go in for a hug, then thinks better of it, rocking on his heels between Kane and Jim. He picks up his notepad and draws a big heart on it, then shows it to Jim.

"Yeah. Hearts all around." Jim smiles.

***

***

K&J x MMSS crossover taglist:

@barebarb

@cc1010foxy

@emcscared-whumps

@hurtpluscomfort

@melancholy-in-the-morning

@pigeonwhumps

@secretwhumplair

@some-thrilling-heroics

@t0rture-me

@thecyrulik

@thejinglingcourtjester

@vehan-tikkun-olam-and-stuff

@whuarri

@whump-cravings

@whump-my-heart-away

@whumpycries

@wolfeyedwitch

@whump-addict

@why-not-ask-me-a-better-question

[vigilskeep]

wip wednesday

tagged by @amatres ! uh i don’t have much here’s a v messy scene from a while back of these losers being annoying because i think often of the immediate act 2 aftermath before things settled down into... relative calm

Anders says, “He’s going to be fine.”

Merrill sits down, suddenly, hours of nervous energy escaping her in a breathless instant. Varric swears, something relieved and unaccountably dwarven he won’t trouble himself to record. Fenris leans forward in his seat and rests his face in his hands, fingers pushing back his hair, nails digging into his scalp.

“Thanks be to the Maker,” says Sebastian, fervently.

“The Maker always gets the bloody credit,” mutters Anders, but without much heat. He looks exhausted, circles drawn darker under his eyes than ever before. Clearly he’s cleaned up, wearing some guardsman’s shirt a few sizes wrong, but there’s a trace of red smeared by a careless hand on the uneven line of his jaw, and he hasn’t seemed to notice.

“Was it bad?” says Varric.

Anders leans against the wall, running a hand over his face, just missing that blood. It’s shaking, slightly, the hand. Varric notes that his teeth are stained slightly with lyrium blue as he opens his mouth to say, acidic, “Was it bad?”

Varric winces. “I meant—anything we have to worry about? He’ll be up in the morning, or what?”

Anders closes his eyes, makes a non-specific gesture with his hand.

“What does that mean?” asks Fenris, sharply.

“It means,” snaps Anders, “that I’m a mage, not a prophet. He’ll make it. What else do you want? Haven’t you done enough?”

“I—?”

“Do you see anyone else around here who threw Hawke to the wolves? If you hadn’t suggested that duel—”

“If I hadn’t suggested the duel,” says Fenris, very slowly, “Isabela would be on her way to Par Vollen and worse than death.”

“Better the one responsible for this mess than—!” For whatever reason, Anders cuts himself off mid-sentence, scowls like he isn’t happy with it. “At least she had the decency to leave.”

Fenris crosses his arms. “Hawke knew the risks, and was victorious. Your lack of faith is not my concern.” His gaze flickers between Anders and Merrill. “What does concern me is the danger you pose now. We all know it. The Knight-Commander saw what you are. The witch, too.”

Anders bristles. Merrill frowns.

Varric scrubs at the brewing headache between his brows. How long has it been since he’d left Hawke at the gates of the Qunari compound? Feels like years. “Can you two just take it easy?” he says. “One night? Until the city stops burning?”

“The threat is not mine,” says Fenris, grimly. “And it cannot be wished away. Until we know what move she will make, I leave Hawke’s side when they do.”

“She named Hawke Champion,” protests Sebastian. “Before all the assembled nobility of Kirkwall, whatever her thoughts on his companions.”

“It’s not going to be that simple, is it?” says Merrill. “She didn’t look like it was going to be that simple.”

“I can’t go anywhere,” says Anders. His shoulders have begun to hunch now the fight has gone out of him, fingers digging into his arms. “Even if I... Believe me, there’s nothing I want less than to bring Meredith down on Hawke, but he’s not out of the woods yet. I can’t leave him.”

Fenris nods grudgingly. “We should delay any return to the estate. With Aveline’s aid, we can hold the barracks, should it come to it.”

That headache of Varric’s is getting worse. “Please tell me we’re not actually readying for a siege.”

“Si vis pacem, para bellum,” says Fenris. “If you want peace, prepare for war.”

[jittyjames]

I promise I’m not asking you to commit to writing any of these for whumptober but do you have any instinctive ideas or pairings for any of the prompts? 😁 any that you’ve read and your immediate reaction is it should be this pair, or this fandom?

sure thing! i have a list of my first instincts and ideas for most of the prompts, so here's the first rough draft of my masterpost! (subject to change, of course!) if anyone has any specific ideas, tho, or things they want to see, feel free to let me know!

Day 1: Search Party + Panic Attack — Jesus Christ Superstar — When Jesus disappears without a word to the disciples, Judas and Mary take it upon themselves to go looking for him as days turn to weeks. 

Day 2: Role Reversal — Twenty One Pilots · Trenchler — The Torchbearer is taken by DEMA as a way to lure Clancy back to them.

Day 3: Wrongfully Arrested — Jesus Christ Superstar · Jesus/Mary/Judas — Jesus rushes to save Judas from being punished in a way he doesn't deserve.

Day 4: Hallucinations — Hamilton — Alexander and Washington find themselves in the clutches of a cruel soldier. His experiments leave the two in quite a predicament.

Day 5: Heatstroke — Hamilton — The heat of battle is only made worse by the oppressive summer sun. Aaron Burr finds himself faltering. 

Day 6: Not Realizing They're Injured — Jesus Christ Superstar— After a horrible riot breaks out, not everyone is as unscathed as it seems.

Day 7: "It's Us Or Them." — 9-1-1 — Buck ends up in the hospital after making a choice.

Day 8: Sleep Deprivation — Hamilton · Hamburr — As Alexander and Aaron push through a high-stakes murder case that bring up bad memories for the both of them, the lack of sleep causes something else to brew between them.

Day 9: Obsession — Hamilton · Hamburr · Modern — Aaron runs into trouble when a mysterious man takes an interest in him. 

Day 10: Blow To The Head + Slurred Words + “I Can’t Think Straight.” — Mindhunter — In a questioning gone wrong, Holden is left reeling. Quite literally.

Day 11: Seeing Double + Loneliness — Hamilton — For just a moment, Alexander thinks he's looking at someone who can't possibly be there.

Day 12: Starvation + “Just A Little More.” — Jesus Christ Superstar · Jesus/Judas — Judas takes issue with having when others have not.

Day 14: Blackmail— Hamilton — When Alexander's secrets are being held by his political enemies, he will do everything he can to ensure they never get out. [Continuation of Keep Me (And My Secrets)]

Day 15: Childhood Trauma — Jesus Christ Superstar (Arena) · Jesus/Judas — Mary reflects on her life as she watches Judas’ fall apart. 

Day 17: Nowhere Else To Go — Hamilton — Thomas Jefferson finds a bleeding Hamilton on his doorstep.

Day 18: Revenge + Loss Of Identity + Unreliable Narrator — Jesus Christ Superstar · Jesus/Judas — Judas finds Jesus with blood on his hands.

Day 19: Abandoned Cabin + Blood Trail — Mindhunter — Holden is taken by an unsub.

Day 20: Giving Permission To Die — Hamilton · Hamliza — Eliza and Alex have one last conversation.

Day 21: Spirit Possession + Body Horror — Jesus Christ Superstar · Jesus/Mary/Judas — Jesus had cast out demons from many people over the course of his ministry. But it’s just different when it’s someone he loves. 

Day 22: Reopening Wounds — Mindhunter — The aftermath of all the events with that principal leave Holden burning with a need for justice, no matter how obsessive it seems.

Day 23: Forced Choice + Public Display — Jesus Christ Superstar · Jesus/Judas —  Amuse Me (Fuck or Die Fic)

Day 24: “I Never Knew Daylight Could Be So Violent.” — Hamilton — How can the sun still rise when so much horror has come to pass? How can the world still spin?

Day 26: Nightmares + Breakfast Table — Hamilton · Modern — Aaron's daughter is always hanging around that Hamilton kid. He doesn't mind it as much as he pretends to— Philip is a sweet boy, after all, and it gives Aaron the excuse he needs to see his former friend despite bridges being burned to a crisp. But when Aaron get's a phone call one stormy night, everything changes.

Day 30: Recovery + Hospital Bed + "What Have I Done?" — Hamilton · Jamilton—  After an attempt brought on by something Thomas said, he's left to pick up the pieces of a broken Hamilton.

[growling]

Ooo tell me more about these gore sites n whatever

yayayayayay :33 well just a few of them that I feel like I can explain somewhat, I have failed to stick to sites only and now just dumping all my cursed knowledge on every kind of shock site/image/video (none shown or linked obviously lmao) also as yall can probably tell: cw for like, general descriptions of shock stuff like gore or just things that are gross/unsanitary:

K-Fee commercial(s) - a series of coffee commercials that aired a while ago, i think the 90s or somewhere around then. So you know like, that veryyyyy popular screamer with the car road or something? So that was actually from this series, and there are multiple more but it's just that one which is most well known. I think they actually got taken down some time later after airing and I mean I'm not surprised there's gonna be like at least a few people got heart attacks for that. Like.. Yeah

The "Unholy Trinity" aka. TubgirI, Lemon Party & Goats e (last one without space i dont want to summon anyone lmao) - three most popular/infamous shock pictures that got passed around on the internets in the fucked up evil 2000s-or-so, basically any shocksite that exists no matter the quality like, has to have at least one of these on their site (up there with the Jeff the Killer flashing jumpscare or that Anne(?) image from the horror movie, but those are like, used as screamers and not just still images), they're like the shock image starter pokemon you get me right. A brief(??) description of these: TubgirI (cw for uh, enemas?) is an image of a woman sitting in a tub with her legs spread, and a mask (according to some, not gonna fact check sorry i value myself) on her face, and what looks to be the aftermath of an enema cascading out her ass and on her face. And like, I'm trying to be grossed out but the way everyone describes it just makes it look like some kinda abstract album cover like whoever photographed this must have really cared about the composition anyway uh Goats e (cw for. ass insides????) is an image of a dude presenting for a lack of better term, and using both his hands he kinda pulls/opens up his asshole from the sides to a point where you can see the inside of it. Lemon Party is literally just an image of three old men going at it. Yes that is all it's just three old men fucking. Probably got considered "shocking" by the net because homophobia and oldmanphobia i guess. Meatspin also got the similiar treatment because it had a trans woman(?) in it

1 Man 1 Jar - that one's a video and also somewhat of a classic just like the aforementioned three. Basically, there's this guy who really likes putting things up his urethra/ass, but he's more into extreme things than anything really safe, and there are multiple videos other than that one, where something just, uh, goes wrong while he's doing it. He also had a wife and a child(?) but he kept it a secret from them. Anyway 1 Man 1 Jar is contains him standing over a glass jar and then proceeding to put the whole thing inside (he apparently did that/or similiar things with glass before then but it went as fine as it could before), but the glass does what glass does and breaks, immediately after blood starts just gushing out and there's a LOT of it. The Guy just calmly starts getting the pieces out, doesn't even scream or anything, just doesn't have a reaction to that. After the whole ordeal (outside the video) he said he has patched it up himself and went to work the next day hiding the injury from everyone else (he was fine). He didn't go to the hospital because he didn't want anyone to know about what he's been doing and I honestly just feel bad for him at this point

Agor.io - soooo, you know how I mentioned earlier that it was like, when you wanted to make a site that's a screamer very often the jumpscare itself will be like, that one Anne(?) image or realistic Jeff the Killer? So yeah, they'd also typically, to make it (Jeff) scarier, they'd put up scream sounds in the background and a whole lot of flashing on the image/gif itself. The site agor.io had the jumpscare in it that is just like how I described, and it is named (and kinda modeled after) like that in order to trick people who made a typo trying to go on agar.io (that one circle game) instead. One day, a woman wrote a reddit post asking for help or explanation for that on some, I assume, that one law focused subreddit? saying that her young son, who's got epilepsy or some other condition that causes seizures can't really remember, found out about the game agar.io from school when his friends played it. When he went to home, he tried to play it there too, however, made a typo. And then had a severe seizure and landed in the hospital, he was still in the hospital as his mother made the post, and she was looking into taking whoever made the site into court over it. The site actually did get taken down a few days after, but we don't know if it's because the law got involved and they (person who made the site) were forced to, or if they saw the post and got scared and deleted it immediately to avoid that.

Encyclopedia Dramatica, particularily the page "Offended" - Encyclopedia Dramatica was basically like, a satire version of Wikipedia, wackpedion reference. Except unlike other pages that have a similiar premise, Encyclopedia Dramatica's humor and wit was basically just racism slurs gore and whatever's the edgiest and literally nothing else. Anyway the page "Offended"/"Are You Offended?" (people provide different titles) was apparently frequently linked to people who were, well, offended. There are two differing descriptions of the page's content itself, them being: 1. that its a gallery, that starts out with cute animal pictures, but as you scroll down it quickly becomes progressively more disturbing, containing gore like injuries, bloody corpses, some with animals, crime scene footage, you name it. 2. That the content is the same, but instead of starting off innocent, the gallery is just gore. Not gonna check which is the true version.

EeI Soup - [long sigh] ok so there's two girls. a container of baby eels. girl 1 starts bending over. there's a funnel

Mr. Hands - (cw for beastiality) so the story behind it is fucking wild and I won't get into it because word limit and I don't remember. But there was this one guy who was part of a beastiality sex tape ring, and he really liked horses. It's a video of him and a few of his friends sneaking(?) into a ranch and he does things that beastialists typically do. With a stallion. It goes wrong. His internal organs get fucking destroyed during the act and he dies. And his buddies didn't even help him or anything just ran away. Also the aforementioned Guy had ties to like, numerous other infamous beastialists & zoosadists I believe he appeared on the Zooey podcast or one of the guys he knew did?? Anyway nearly all of them are connected in some way

1 4 4 4 (without spaces) - a video on youtube with that title that got since taken down but not after a few entire days. It showed Ron.nie Mc.nutt (censored cause i don't wanna summon anyone) dying via suicide. A lot of videos (especially on tiktok, disguised as a regular compilation or a dance and the suddenly cutting to that) liked to show that one back then. Like, a lot. Apparently that was a calculated test attack by some group from over at the dark web, which sounds crazy but there's like, concrete proof for that, apparently?? So yeah anyway

(hit word limit gotta do a line break)

Ogrish/Liveleak - most people probably know what liveleak is at this point, basically it was that really popular site where like uncensored news clips got posted but also a lot of gore and just videos of people dying and getting tortured or whatever you name it. Ogrish was actually the same as Liveleak made by the same people but like, the older version.

Rotten.com - i just feel like I HAVE to mention that one but I have like unfortunately zero info on that aside from like.. very old and (in)famous site, one of the first ones with that content, where its just a bunch of pictures of corpses or whatever. anyway its not up anymore. i think.

Run the Gauntlet - basically an internet challenge that is also a site. So basically, there is 20 videos that play categorized by difficulty (probably wrong the further i go but i think its like: beginner, easy, medium, hard, extreme?), and if you can watch every one of them up until the end without looking away, then you win the challenge and as a reward get absolutely nothing. you can pause/opt out of it anytime you want which is nice i guess. the videos are essentially, just, shock and gore that progressively get worse. for example, the very first video, in the beginner level, is two women arm-wrestling until one of them breaks their arm and you can see the bone poke out. then theres like, maggot stuff, some teenager falls while diving into water(?) and lands on something else and i think impales(?) himself, there's like, nature documentary level stuff with animals that isnt that bad like right after and right before some another gore, there's fake accidents, disturbing movie scenes etc etc etc so not just gore but like, mostly. The very last video is 3 guys 1 hammer, widely regarded as "the worst video on the internet", which without getting into too much detail, is two ukrainian(?) serial killers from some time back who liked to record themselves murdering people, and in this one its a man getting very brutally killed by them with hammers. So anyway actually a few videos on there got either shuffled, or deleted and replaced with others - originally there was a few involving children, but all of them got removed. There is a big discussion on the ethicality of gore videos but if there is something that most people can agree with is that maybe at least leave kids out of this. Anyway so thats that

Kek maga (without the space. i dont want to summon anyone lmaooo) - ok so the creator of the site made a fucking villain monologue one time even. Anyway its a small site with various gore videos that exists purely to scare the living shit out of people that accidentially clicked on anything on it. I thiiink there's like, first a starter page that says nothing(?) else other than "only proceed if youre above 18" and an enter sign that if you click it basically a lot of images and videos of well. gore. start flashing and it think theres like, screaming in the background of it its practically designed in a way to be THE most stressful experience in your life. You can leave but before the pages closes for real you get a box saying "are you sure you want to leave youll lose all your progress if you do :)))))))" and you gotta click yes on that too before you actually can leave so. that is cool. Oh I nearly forgot the maker of that site named it kekmaga because its got maga in it and he wanted to lure older conservative people to it cause they dont know how computers work or something

Nim p (anti-summon space) - similiar to kek-ma but no one talks about it. A lot of youtubers back in the day got linked that page which meant that they "got nimped" which we would consider very rude by todays standards but anyway. Its a page thats just screaming and gore and shock and yadayadayada except its all in like, these boxes(?) that just start appearing and dissapearing and flying around your screen and its WAYYYYY harder to actually close like you gotta really lock in in order to stop having to look at people dying

Women's Alliance - made by the same guy that brought us the maga bait. It is a site that disguises itself as like, a feminist forum for women and female empowerment or something like you know. Before you enter theres of course the starter page which says something along the lines of "the subjects on here may be a bit sensitive and mature so only proceed if ur above 18!!" and then an enter sign that you click. Except its not a feminist forum its actually a site with images of gore flashing on it. Except its got a twist this time and now its exclusively, misogynistic violence like women getting beaten, killed, pictures of their dead bodies, probably also some rape videos too i got no proof for the last one but like, i just know it like why wouldn't it have that too at this point.

That is all you have got your knowledge wiki.......... uhhh how long was this ask in my inbox/drafts at this point

[leothil]

The willing turning of a blind eye I have seen the most consistently is amongst buddie fans who have been here for a while though. That violently homophobic post that went around immediately following the finale was reblogged by quite a few people who have been in this fandom for years, who either completely ignored people calling it out or defended the OP/themselves because “it was just a joke.” And then they and plenty others proceeded to continue reblogging posts from that OP despite their unapologetic homophobia. That post is not even the only instance of homophobia I can think of perpetrated by longtime buddie fans and ignored or even supported by their friends. That is where the blind eye is being turned.

You seem very keen on putting the blame on just one side of the fandom. Listen, I've never claimed nor will you ever see me claim that there aren't #problematic people among the buddie shippers or that I don't wish that a certain subset of people would leave the fandom forever because god knows we'd be better off without them. But that specific post you're referencing got blown so wide out of proportion that I honestly can't believe what a shitshow it stirred. And I wrote enough that I'm putting a read more here so people can easily scroll past if they want to.

Yeah yeah people were tired and sensitive and up in arms after a season finale that didn't deliver quite as much as anyone hoped (that bobby/athena/amir storyline... i'm still dreaming of a better resolution to it, rip). But I'll be honest with you, I did not read that post as homophobic. I read it as a hyperbolic post on the hyperbolic website, and I know that's how a lot of other people also saw it. Now what started happening in the tags after a while is a different story, people were being vile as fuck there, and I kinda wish op hadn't posted it just so those comments wouldn't have found a breeding ground. And you're allowed to not like the post or think it was in bad taste (I did, hence why I didn't reblog it). But so much of the shitstorm was completely overblown, and as someone who waded into it a couple of hours late and was newly woken up I was in a constant state of ??? seeing accusations flying all over the place and having no idea what had happened. By the time I saw the post my reaction was more akin to "that's what they're upset about?" because I didn't have the same context of having been within the Discourse as it was happening, nor was I as keyed up as a lot of the people that had been getting increasingly more upset over the course of hours. And I'm not gonna try to say people were wrong to be upset about it because I'm not going to police anyone's feelings, but I can tell you that seeing it all from the outside (coming in hours later) there were at least three strands of discourse that were being tangled into one big ball of hurt feelings centering on this one post, and I stand by my wish that more people had watched the episode right after waking up instead of in the evening and then staying up late at night.

You're allowed to dislike the post and dislike its op for phrasing their dislike of the scene the way they did all you want, but the context that post was made in was not about hating a character for being gay or advocating for violence against gay men and it's disingenuous to say otherwise. *I* don't think it was a post that particularly needed to exist, especially not seeing what happened because of it, but it's since been used the same way people were saying that if you don't ship bucktommy you're biphobic (yes, that's a real take from this very webbed site) and like you're doing here, saying people are inherently bad for interacting with the blog that posted that post. A lot of people have no idea who they are or why other people are expecting them to stay away. They were not part of the Discourse and only saw the aftermath of it, but now it's become some Big Bad that people are assuming Everyone Knows About, and that is simply not true. You have got to be able to see some nuance even when it's about a person you dislike.

[slickshoesareyoucrazy]

Unprepared

It's been 7 weeks since A died. And while I am still crying every day, which is concerning me and J and our son and probably at least some of my coworkers at the library, I'm not actually feeling 'bad.' Not like the immediate aftermath, anyway. I can't say anything has gotten 'better.' I think I'm just more used to crying now, which I guess if you stand on your head to perspective shift, could be considered 'good.'

Anyway, nearly everyone I've spoken to about A on any level has mentioned how sudden and unexplained his death was, and how that somehow is expected in some way to be 'worse,' on some horrible gradated scale of Terrible when it comes to losing someone you love. It's another weight that slides the scale down the bad line further. 'So young,' and 'so sudden,' are things so many people have said to me in response to my grief, and I know they mean it to acknowledge how hard it must be to deal with and how much extra or at least different...sharper...the pain must be. Because I was unprepared for it.

There is some truth to that, I suppose. I am still actively grieving A every day. Part of that is definitely because I never expected to be grieving him. But I honestly was unprepared for the first horrible death I experienced in my life too.

I was 11 when my grandmother who really did most of my parenting...who while she was never listed as my legal guardian, is who truly raised me...died. She had colon cancer. She was 76. She was sick for over a year and in at home hospice for almost 6 months. Everyone else around me (all adults) knew she was dying. But no one ever told me. No one actually ever talked about the fact that she was dying. I thought she was just sick. Every other time anyone in my life was sick, they got better. Whenever I was sick, I got better. She wasn't in a hospital; she was at home. She still smiled at me; still hugged me every day; still cared about me more than anyone else did. No one said, 'Gramma is going to die soon.' Not even in a euphemistic, religion-loaded, 'soft,' way. I guess they thought that 11 year old me would be able to just know or deduce that she was dying...that I'd know what hospice was...without them ever saying anything. But I didn't know. So it was a terrible shock when it happened. Even though no one else was surprised at all, and in fact, several people were relieved, including my mom. She was tired of taking care of my Gramma after working all day.

I cried so much at that visitation, my mom told me I was embarrassing her, that I was too emotional, and didn't let me attend her funeral. That's when I learned to not cry in front of other people, to try and keep it quiet when I cried alone, to try and limit showing big feelings to anyone about anything.

That's all out the window now. I cry every day. I cry in public. I'm crying so much more and so much more often and in so much space that the people around me are unprepared for it. I'm unprepared for it. But maybe it's not 'worse.' Maybe I need to cry. Maybe I've always needed to cry and now I finally can and do and I'm starting not to care that I'm doing it. And maybe that's coming from being unprepared.

[msvorderofoperations]

More dream journaling.

This one was really fucking intense, and I feel pretty comfortable calling it a nightmare even if everything was fairly mundane.

It started off being about on vacation with the whole extended family. It was to be a kind of last hurrah before my immediate family moved to a different country. As has been the problem lately, my mom was causing tons of problems. She was ordering people around and getting mad at people for doing things she asked of them. Eventually it reaches a head, and I go off on her about how she has ruined any chance of this being a good time. In addition to being a completely unreasonable control freak, she has utterly forgotten a bunch of the things she has done and said. And it goes beyond selective memory, (which has long been a problem in dealing with her) it now is clearly dementia.

In all the time it takes to wrest control from her and make the required arrangements for her to be given the care she needs and to stop her from doing any more damage, the vacation has ended and it has fully eaten into the time I needed to pack. In the days leading up to the move, I start having dreams (I have had multi-level dreams long before Inception made it into a meme) about being a soldier in an armed conflict.

The experience is about as bad as it can be, with awful mental conditioning, being completely unsupported during combat, the dehumanizing aftermath where we're given cheap trinkets made with slave labour to signify our deeds. And to top it all off, we weren't even paid in money for our time served: we get paid in spices, pigments, and tokens that can be exchanged elsewhere.

I eventually wake up (from the dream within a dream at least), and start working on trying to frantically get things squared away for the move. As I'm working, I see a bunch of stuff from my early life that I had completely forgotten. And as the memories start coming back, I begin to wonder if the dreams of war were in fact memories that I had suppressed. This is something that has happened to me IRL, and I'm keen to disprove the dream being real because so many awful things were done to me, and done by me.

As I randomly search through my possessions for something to either prove positive or disprove the dreams were real, I start to remember more of the war. Our last operation had been a complete clusterfuck, with many members of our unit being permanently injured and more than a few outright dying. As I more and more desperately try and find anything to prove it didn't happen, a final detail clicks in my head: the person most adversely affected by PTSD was given one final order. Kill the remaining people of our unit should anything come to light about our mission.

At this point I am just throwing out most of my possessions to try and save time and get things moving because I am now fully afraid for my life. I can't even tell anyone about my fears or ask for confirmation about my time served because that may be enough to sign my death warrant.

Eventually I make it onto the flight and it's a long one, I think from Canada to Australia. I dream once again, but this time it's benign anime robot fighting bullshit. I wake up again and move to head to the bathroom, and I see the dude who had been given the order to kill us. I try not to freak out but once I'm again seated I desperately search to see if anything I have in my carry-on can be used as a weapon to defend myself.

At this point I finally, mercifully, wake up for real.

[whumpshaped]

Drabble #13

inspo masterlist

trigger warnings: implied captivity, past trauma, aftermath of having been kidnapped, breaking ties with family, self-deprecation

Len had no idea why he even took that route. It had been months, years, he didn't even know how many years, since he'd last taken this exact path. He thought he'd feel this… sense of nostalgia. Familiarity. He wanted to feel that. Instead, he didn't feel anything. Aside from the anxiety, of course, that one was a given, something constant in a life that had been turned upside down.

The houses looked the same, mostly. He couldn't remember that corner shop, and he could've sworn that house used to be painted beige instead of that strange, green colour. He would've remembered that, wouldn't he?

He pulled the jacket tighter around his frail body, the autumn wind chilling him to the bone. He should've brought a proper coat. He didn't think he'd be out here walking for so long, he'd given himself at most twenty minutes in his head.

Was he waiting for something to happen? Someone to appear and recognise him? He glanced in the direction of his old apartment - he could just waltz in there and say 'I'm back! You didn't think I'd ever come back, did you?' He shook his head at the absurd idea, but walked up to the building anyway. He pressed the button corresponding to the number he remembered.

"Hello?"

Ah. So it had been sold. Of course it had been. Maybe just rented, actually. If he turned up at the authorities, they would have to give him the apartment back, right? Maybe not. Probably not.

"Hello? Is anyone there?"

Right.

"Hi." What was he supposed to say? "I'm- looking for a man named Lennox Glazier? Do you know him?"

"Are you some kinda cop? Or detective? Kid disappeared like six years ago, can't you finally leave me alone? You people are gonna make me move out, and I'm going to sue for emotional damage." Click.

Six years. He'd been gone for six years. He didn't even know how to feel.

He stepped away from the door and began walking along the road. One step at a time. Right foot. Left foot. Right foot. Left foot. He considered his parents' house, but before he could even decide, someone opened the front door.

Mom.

His feet were rooted to the ground as he watched his mother take out the trash, something he'd seen her do hundreds of times, yet now it seemed like something out of a movie. He couldn't open his mouth to speak.

She seemed… normal. Like nothing had changed. Like he himself was still living across the road, and was simply coming to visit, like usual. She stayed outside for a smoke, and Len noted with some bitterness that his disappearance must've made her take up the habit again.

They locked eyes for just a moment, his mother glancing away immediately. Then she looked back, eyes widening. She dropped the cigarette, stepping on it hurriedly, rubbing her eyes like she was trying to get rid of a bad dream.

"Len?"

She took a few hesitant steps towards him, and for some reason, he couldn't do it. He couldn't look his mother in the eye, he couldn't get rid of that nasty voice in the back of his head, whispering 'she never came to the rescue, she let you be a pet for six fucking years'.

"Len?" he repeated, and it made his mother falter. She looked him over once more, head to toe, now doubting herself.

"It's- it's you, isn't it? Len? Please-"

"The kid who disappeared?" The words came easily, echoing the person from his apartment. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I don't know him."

"Oh."

That was all she said. She didn't push it. She didn't insist, or say she was sure it was him, of course she was, he was her son! She'd recognise him anywhere! She gave that small, resigned response and a quiet apology before slowly turning around and walking back to her house. His parents' house.

Were they strangers now?

Len didn't know when or how he found the strength to walk away. He didn't even know why he lied. One thing he knew for sure was that he didn't expect that reaction. He expected… more. Something that would've let him know she cared at all.

Six years was a long time, he supposed. Long enough for everyone to move on. To be annoyed with him for disappearing, but make their peace with it.

Maybe the world had become a better place without him in it.

~

taglist: @ashh-ed @whumpsday  @whump-queen @rainbows-and-whumperflies @ha-ha-one @hidden-dreamland @the-scrapegoat