#this is a dangerous institution to have in walking distance

[qqueenofhades]

Surely it would ease the pain of work/term starting tomorrow if I ran out to the bookshop around the corner and bought surely only one book.

[artbyblastweave]

So I don't really think that it's a secret that Boston has a significant Minotaur problem. It's a pretty common situation for older American cities on the East Coast- centuries of poorly-documented cowpath-style urban growth providing an ideal nesting ground, widespread electrification and plentiful steam tunnels that compensate for the loss of the temperate Mediterranean climate that they're used to. And all this on top of limited institutional knowledge of proper containment tactics at least up until the Greek diaspora started to really blow up in the 20th century. You only have to fuck up the safety checks on one cargo steamer coming in from the broad area of old Minoa and then basically any import controls you put in after that point are closing the barn door after the bulls are loose. So yeah, no secret, it's an issue.

I do think, though, that we've kind of let the specific narrative surrounding the issue get away from us in the usual fashion, the problem people picture when they hear "Minotaur" isn't anywhere close the to the problem as it exists on the ground. I mean people's minds immediately jump to the 1949 Boylston massacre, but let's be real, even though that was really politically useful for finally getting the exit fares on the T removed, that was still a black-swan event, right? Basically every mayor since, like, Hynes has lived in mortal terror of having to manage a repeat of something like that during the mass media era, let alone the smartphone era. So we've got these Theseus kill-teams with their titanium-composite ropes and souped-up cattle prods and bolt guns, we have these constant "track replacement" stoppages on the orange line, and it's fine. It's fine! There hasn't been a serious Minotaur thing within walking distance of a T stop since, like, 2006, which again you can mostly chalk up to the chaos surrounding the dig.

No, the actual danger zones, the silent killers are the exurbs, like West Roxbury, Roslindale, parts of Hyde Park. Relatively dense foliage, bad sightlines, far enough from the urban center that the response times are bad, foot traffic that's basically nonexistent for big parts of the workweek because everyone's either commuting or hunkered down working from home. And, of course, a steady stream of delivery drivers with no political ties to the area. Which is an important element, right? I mean it's kind of baked into the Minotaur's nature, that they have a very finely tuned instinctual awareness of the politics of their situation. Start snagging homeowners, there might be a ruckus. But Amazon does steady business everywhere, and Minotaurs are smart enough to cover their bases, to wait until after the drivers have dropped off your package or delivered your food. So yeah, watch yourself out there. One eye on the treeline at all times. And if you see an Amazon van left idling, get ready to run faster than the driver could.

[marcyvamp1re-blog]

could you do rouge x reader where the reader is immune to their mutation

��� ALL I WANTED 𓆪

Synopsis; Rouge had always been afraid of touching people. The fear was instinctive, a barrier she couldn't explain but never dared to break. Until she met you. For the first time, she felt the warmth of human connection, and everything changed.

Pairing ── Anna Marie x Inmune! Reader.

Content. MDNI ⚠︎ ── fluff, excessive affection, fear of death, fear of using powers, emotional vulnerability, and themes of trust and healing.

A/N ── English is not my first language — Spanish — I like Rouge sometimes. She’s an interesting and complex character, but she doesn’t always win me over completely. Plus, it still hurts what she did to poor Gambit. That man didn’t deserve so much suffering!

Rouge had always lived under the weight of a fear that seemed inseparable from her being, like a persistent shadow that followed her wherever she went. A subtle but constant fear: the fear of hurting, of destroying, of being a threat to anyone who dared to come close. That anguish was her curse, an invisible barrier that isolated her even in places where acceptance was promised, like Xavier’s school. There, where others sought refuge, she found an echo of the same: confusion, terror, and a sense of being trapped in her own body, a prison of skin and power that kept her apart from everything she desired.

Few had dared to cross that abyss. Magneto and Mystique were perhaps the only exceptions, but even those relationships were marked by distance, by the impossibility of going beyond words. Her power, a blessing in battle, was a curse for the heart. She avoided any deeper bond herself, knowing the danger was too great. Until you came along.

She couldn’t quite say who you were: a new student, a curious passerby who accidentally touched her, someone looking for something more at the Institute. But the truth is, that first touch changed everything. It was an instant, barely a whisper between lives, but in that moment, something inside Rouge broke and rebuilt itself. She expected pain, fear, harm, as always. But it didn’t happen. There were no screams, no suffering, no dark certainty of having taken more than she could give back. Instead, there was something she had never felt before: warmth, relief, a spark of connection she didn’t dare believe was real.

When she looked at you, her eyes were filled with disbelief. And before she could stop herself, she hugged you. Tightly, desperately, with an intensity only someone who had been alone for too long could understand. In that embrace, the world stopped being a cold and distant place. For the first time, she felt what it was like to be touched without fear, without danger. The moment was eternal and, at the same time, fleeting. As she pulled away, her words barely formed an awkward apology, her voice breaking with emotion. But you didn’t move away. You didn’t run. You stayed, with a calmness that seemed to disarm her, and you smiled as if everything was okay. And for her, in that moment, it was.

As the days went by, Rouge began to seek you out. At first, timidly, as if afraid to scare away what you had started to build. But little by little, her desire to see you became something she couldn’t deny. Spending time with you was unlike anything she had ever experienced. You weren’t like the others. You didn’t see her power as a lurking monster but as a part of her, one that didn’t define who she was.

One day, her heart racing, she gathered her courage and asked, “Would you like to walk with me after class?” It seemed like a simple, almost insignificant gesture, but for Rouge, it was a huge step toward something she had never believed possible. And you, with that same calm smile, said yes.

Afternoons together became a ritual. You walked through the Institute’s gardens, sometimes in silence, other times laughing about trivial things. The barriers Rouge had built over the years began to crumble, piece by piece, with each conversation, with each glance. In your company, the weight of her fear lightened. It was as if, finally, she could breathe without fearing she would suffocate those around her.

The little things became treasures for Rouge: studying together in the library, sharing a joke during a boring class, or even the simulated battles where, for a moment, she allowed herself to feel free. With you, strategies and movements were no longer an exercise in survival but a game, a dance where she didn’t have to think about the risks of her power. She could laugh, make mistakes, try again. And when everything was over, there was always that hug—warm and genuine—that seemed to heal parts of her she didn’t even know were wounded.

And the nights… The nights were her favorite refuge. Lying on the floor of your room, with the lights off and a movie playing softly in the background, Rouge found a kind of peace she had never known. The shared laughter, the feigned scares during horror scenes, the whispered conversations that seemed to last all night. Sometimes, without realizing it, the two of you would fall asleep, curled up together, as if the entire world disappeared in that small space. For Rouge, those moments were magic. They were family. They were home.

Over time, Rouge began to understand something that had always seemed impossible: that her life could be more than fear and loneliness. With you, she had found a friendship that didn’t need labels, a bond that asked for nothing in return but authenticity. And on that journey together, through the little and big things, Rouge discovered something even more important: that she was capable of loving and being loved. That, in the end, her power wasn’t what defined who she was, but her ability to open up, to trust, to embrace the light you offered her.

Rouge had always walked alone, used to keeping a cautious distance from others. It was her way of protecting them—and protecting herself from the pain of losing them. But now, with that small spark of connection she had found in you, everything was beginning to change, though the fear still lingered in the shadows, like an old friend she couldn’t quite say goodbye to.

There were days when you joined the group training sessions. Scott led the simulations with his characteristic discipline, Jean adjusted the scenarios with telepathic precision, and Logan, always on the sidelines, observed with a mix of apathy and concern, as if he were waiting for something to go wrong. But you were always there, with that calm, contagious presence that even managed to soften Logan’s sharp remarks.

Rouge remembered one moment in particular—a cold afternoon in the simulation room. The exercise was simple: form teams and complete a mission under pressure. You and Rouge moved together, slipping through the shadows as you dodged virtual obstacles. “Watch your left,” you murmured softly, and even though you knew she had it under control, you couldn’t help but warn her. At the end of the exercise, when Logan made his usual sarcastic comment about teamwork, you just laughed. Rouge, however, found herself staring at your hands, wondering how it was possible for you to be so close without fear.

There were quiet mornings in the Institute’s dining hall, when the sunlight was just beginning to filter through the windows. You insisted on keeping her company, even when she said it wasn’t necessary. Gambit would often pass by with his coffee, tossing a flirtatious comment at Rouge before Kitty reprimanded him with a laugh. Bobby, always playful, would throw ice balls to start spontaneous battles. But you and Rouge would usually sit in a corner, away from the commotion, sharing pieces of toast and quiet conversations. Sometimes, you didn’t even talk. You would hand her a packet of butter, or she’d offer you her last strawberry—small gestures that meant more than any words could express.

One afternoon in the garden, you both ran into Ororo. She was planting new flowers in the greenhouse, a mix of roses and lilies that seemed to glow under her careful touch. “Nature always finds a way to grow,” Ororo said, more to herself than to either of you. Rouge watched her with a strange sense of admiration. For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine that she too could bloom, even if slowly, even if the thorns of her power would always be there. When she turned to look at you, she saw you were already watching her, as though you understood what was on her mind. You didn’t need to say anything. The warmth in your gaze was enough.

And then there were the small adventures around the mansion. Like that time Kitty dragged both of you to a movie night, convincing even Kurt to join, who appeared in the middle of the room with his signature “Bamf” and a mischievous grin. While the others argued about which movie to watch, you and Rouge simply sat together on the couch, sharing a blanket that seemed far too big for the two of you. At some point, as laughter filled the room, you felt her head rest against your shoulder. It was a small, almost imperceptible gesture, but for Rouge, it meant everything. It was her way of saying she trusted you, that she was beginning to find her place.

Yet the fear never truly disappeared. One night, after an intense training session, Rouge was quieter than usual. Logan had made a stern comment about how dangerous it was to let one’s guard down, and even though you tried to console her, she seemed lost in her thoughts. That same night, she dreamed something terrible happened to you. In her nightmare, she saw you touch her, only to fall lifeless, just like others before you. She woke with a strangled gasp, her heart pounding in her chest. She spent hours sitting at the edge of her bed, hands trembling, thinking about how easily she could lose you—how danger always seemed to follow her. The next day, when she saw you, she couldn’t help but avoid your gaze. She feared ruining what you had, feared being the cause of your pain.

But you didn’t give up on her. One afternoon, while Rouge was sitting under a tree, scribbling something in a notebook she wouldn’t let anyone see, you approached her with a calm smile and sat beside her. At first, you didn’t say anything—just pulled out a small book and began to read aloud in a soft voice. The cadence of your words filled the air, creating a haven of calm that slowly began to ease her tension. When you finished, you closed the book gently and turned to her. “You don’t have to carry it all alone, you know?” you finally said, your voice a whisper that broke through the barriers Rouge always kept in place. She didn’t respond, but inside, something loosened.

One rainy afternoon, Jean found the two of you in the library. You were teaching Rouge a card trick you’d learned from Gambit, while Rouge tried (without much success) to stifle her laughter. Jean paused in the doorway, silently watching you for a moment before walking away. That night, Jean spoke to Professor Xavier, moved by how Rouge—who had always kept everyone at a distance—was beginning to open up.

Over time, Rouge started to let you into her world more and more. Of course, there were bad days—moments when the fear returned with full force, reminding her how fragile her happiness could be. But then you were there, with a look, a gesture, a word that brought her back to calm. One night, as the two of you stargazed on the mansion’s rooftop, she turned to you and whispered, “I don’t know how you do it… but thank you.” And even though you hadn’t expected a response, you knew those words were Rouge’s way of saying everything she couldn’t express.

For the first time in her life, Rouge didn’t just see shadows. Now, there was light between them. And you were the reason.

[the-once-ler-in-superjail]

CHAPTER 36: The Asylum - Part 2

Finally here, sorry this one took so long, we both got really busy this time but it's here!

Lineart/cleanup, flats & writing- @wiggybe

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

(TW: Mental illness/health/asylums.)

PART2

Once-ler: *He holds the Warden in his arms, relieved to have another moment alone with him, knowing that they're going to get out of here and that people are following his orders. At least he can have his glasses, they're just glasses, prisoners get to wear their glasses because they're visually impaired, this should be no different. He sniffs and wipes his tears with his hand, whispering.* I love you too. *Kisses the Warden's head and sighs out, hooking his chin over his head and bundling him up in his arms.* You're going to be okay, we- we're going to get you out. *He can't let him down.*

Warden: *His eyes shut, and as he floats in the vague numbness of what's been done to him, he absorbs all of Oncie's love, the feeling of his arms, the scent of his clothes and the way his voice vibrates through his chest. It helps to calm him, more than anything else ever could, but there's an instinctive part of him ready to have it all ripped away.*

Dr. Zazzerzump: *She strides straight into the room and states in a simple, curt voice.* Mr. Once-ler. *She has the air of a headteacher who won't be suffering nonsense, but because she isn't a blustering, loud older man, and hasn't brought the chaos of a crowd with her, she doesn't cause the same flinching reaction in the Warden as everything else. To him, this is just one more thing to trust Oncie to handle for him.*

Once-ler: *Pulls his head back from his boyfriend and looks over to the new doctor walking into the room. He knows this lady to be the woman in charge here. Good, that means he can sort this out properly rather than having to slap drones around. He doesn't get up though; he won't leave Edmund unless it's necessary, and he doesn't care how he looks holding him. If anything it only shows that he means the man no harm and that they do share a relationship.* Hm. *His eyes meet hers and he lets out an acknowledging grunt.* Doctor... *He looks her up and down as for a moment her name escapes him, but he does know all the names in charge of his cities' institutions.* Doctor Zazzerzump. *That's the one. He frowns, glancing around at the other nurses as they follow in behind her as if he's pretending to wonder where the Warden's glasses are, like he's making a point. Two male doctors join also, including Snickberry-Shoo, who all keep their distance.* Thank you. I requested the nurses bring this man’s glasses to me, where are they?

Dr. Zazzerzump: *Her eyes flit to the way the Once-ler is holding the patient only once, to take in the information and judge it. It's inappropriate, maybe, but it is proof that they know each other. Or proof that the patient has been so well-drugged that he doesn't know what's happening. Well, the Once-ler is a sane man, so it's presumably the first one. And yet, policy is policy for a reason.* The patient is in here because he proved to be a danger to himself and others. We can arrange for his glasses to be reconsidered, but he cannot have them back just because you asked... *She searches for a word that isn't rude.* 'nicely'. I will have the administrators put in a request, and he will be re-evaluated for his tendencies.

Warden: *He curls tighter, pushing his bare face against the Once-ler's chest so he doesn't have to see the world without his filter.*

Once-ler: *Feels a spike of adrenaline in his chest when he's refused, the thought of having to wait making his frustration build all over again.* That's not soon enough. Can't you make an exception?! Look at him, he needs them. Even prisoners don't have their own glasses confiscated. What could be so bad about him having his when I can supervise?

Dr. Zazzerzump: They could break - he could break them - and then we have glass shards, sharp wire, and an unpredictable man in the same room. The hospital would be liable if any harm came to either of you, even - *she anticipates the potential solution he might offer* if you were to sign a waiver. I'm afraid your friend must follow the rules like everyone else in the secure wing - no special treatment. But we can have him seen by our resident optician if necessary.

Once-ler: You’re already causing harm to him by treating him like this. *Breathes in a sharp, frustrated breath as he clutches onto Edmund harder. He knew these were the reasons. He doesn't care. Edmund is more dangerous to himself without the glasses. Besides, it’s not like he isn’t already drugged up to his eyeballs, bound in a straight-jacket, and not being watched over by a sensible and powerful man.* Don't you have security cameras here for the same reason? Just keep a closer eye on him for god sake! *He knows that what he's asking is exactly special treatment, but why shouldn't he? Parole exists so that those facing trial can pay to be in a comfortable environment while they wait. He raises an eyebrow.* I'll sign whatever the hell you like, if any harm came to either of us I'd take that responsibility on myself and see to it that no repercussions fall on the hospitals reputation. I can do that. *He tilts his head to the other side, frowning harder.* On the other hand, however, I can't promise the same should my requests be refused. *Hisses as one hand releases Edmund to slip into an inner pocket inside his jacket to fine his cheque book.* Fuck sake, how much do you want for them? *Looks at her like she just personally hurt him* He’s not dangerous, not with me and not right now, look at him. I’ll pay you extra if we could just arrange to have him monitored so that he can have what he really nee-

Dr. Zazzerzump: I cannot be bought, Mr. Once-ler. *As corruptible as the bribe of money can make people, sometimes those with the a more selfish agenda than just greed can be more malicious.* *She doesn’t care for money, she cares for maintaining an old archaic institute that she holds power over. Taking small wins, keeping control over anyone in her immediate vicinity, and insisting on her old fashioned ideals. And it just so happens the vulnerable patients in this place make those objectives a lot easier. She remains totally unmoved, as cold as steel, although she does for a moment feel a skip in her chest at the thought of more money towards their operations here. Still, she will have no preferential treatment for the wealthy or connected, even if the town's founder himself starts writing a check. She doesn’t quite realise that anyone, poor or wealthy, known or noone, would be willing to give up everything in their possession for the people they love. She holds a fundamental belief, a false ‘moral’ virtue about herself, that those of the mentally impaired are a danger to be hidden rather than human beings to be treated, despite having little to no modern research supporting her biases. There is no grey area that could suggest that the pain of others might warrant an empathetic reconsideration of the ‘rules’, she just holds onto these old ideas being ‘correct’. It’s as if Thneedville, and the people in it, are a product of a time where mindsets like this were the modern standards.* As I said, we cannot sign our duty of care away.

Warden: *He shifts, yielding as easily as a doe when Oncie's hand releases him to pull out his cheque book, but never stops gripping onto him. It's all going over his head, whoever that voice belongs to. Oncie is fighting a battle above the surface of the water while he sinks down below, and all he can do to avoid going (further) mad with fright is to hold on and make sure he never leaves him by himself. Right now the world is very simple - everything outside of their arms wants to hurt him or worse, abandon him to his own mind. Everything inside their arms is safe and loves him.*

Once-ler: *Sneers at her through his teeth in a low voice.* Ev-ery-thing can be bought. *He lets her speak, and as she does, he removes his thneed from his neck as if he's already made up his mind about something, not needing to hear the rest of it- because one can’t reason with a person who’s already accepted their own world view as fact. One can’t engage debate, even the most civil, with a person who has already made up their mind. The only thing that matters now is protecting his own pack. Something about the way this woman speaks is making it both harder for him to breathe the fire he usually does and at the same time makes him want to burn it all down with even more fury than when he spoke to the previous doctor. It isn't just a bigger dog biting at a smaller yappy dog, it's a fox VS a snake, both fighting for the fallen rabbit, and he's met a snake like this before. Thankfully the two women are nothing alike, but that doesn't stop the vitriolic, rebellious feeling in his gut needing to prove her wrong. He hisses again, almost scoffing at the irony of her words.* Your ‘duty of care’… *He glances to the Warden in sympathy, then back to her with far less.* Why is he so out of his mind?

Dr Zazzerzump: *Adjusts her glasses.* Is that a trick question, Mr Once-ler? All of the patients here are ‘out of their mind’, that’s what this place is for. We haven’t begun analysis or treatment on this particular patient yet, but he’s here for a reason-

Once-ler: That’s not what I meant! *He steams. Treatment of this sort has nothing to do with the rationality of the person involved, they shouldn’t be strapped up, sedated, and left in a cold corner for someone to find them- if someone ever comes to find them- without sympathetic care.* I meant why is he so sedated? Why is he all drugged up out of his mind?

Dr Zazzerzump: He was acting out, Mr Once-ler. a danger to everybody. We sedate all of our patients. It makes them feel better and it makes it easy for us to handle them and treat them. *Of course, she has no understanding of how these patients might truly feel, she’s just trying to come across as caring to hide that all she really cares about is the efficiency of her control here.*

Once-ler: *He almost screams out lout to her; ‘Even when he’s already in a straightjacket?!’ But he doesn’t, it wouldn’t help. He looks down at Edmund who can barely hear this conversation through water, he just knows Oncie is there somewhere and is trying to protect him, but if the man wasn’t here then the confusion would only be making him panic more as he looses an extra layer of stability and understanding.* He’s not comfortable at all, he doesn’t feel better at all, he’s scared. *Maybe he was being a menace, maybe he did deserve to be brought somewhere, but then shouldn’t he have been brought to a jail cell for disorderly conduct? Somewhere he can be held for safety reasons, call someone he knows, speak to a lawyer and at least be reviewed before taken to an asylum? Who authorised that he be brought here? Were they called before the police and just snapped him up to fill one of their patient cells?… He had no idea this sort of conduct was going on here, in his own city. This is old, archaic stuff. For as abstract as Thneedville is, sometimes he does feel that it’s oddly stuck in the 1970’s, as if it’s a product of a mind that’s frame of reference is a world straight out of the late 60’s. Maybe after all of this is over he really should review this place top to bottom officially and write up a report, not just because he’s been personally hurt by it and it’s employees, but because there might be things here he’s not looked at, that could seriously do with reforming.*

Dr Zazzerzump: *Says nothing. She hasn't spared a second glance at Edmund, she's been too busy watching the angry man making his demands and she clearly has no intention of treating these patients like human beings.* If you have no further requirements, I shall leave you two in peace. Visiting hours close at 6.

Once-ler: *Almost hisses at the way she ignores his genuine concerns.* That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say?! *He huffs, and in a sweep of his tailcoats, he turns back to the Warden and strides strictly over to him. He glares over his shoulder to the doctor.* I’m not going anywhere, I’m staying here with him.

Dr Zazzerump: *Suddenly spikes. He can’t stay here! That’s an obstacle between herself and the power she holds over everyone in the place.* Visiting hours close at 6 Mr-

Once-ler: I heard you! And I don’t care. If you won’t let me take him out then I have no other option than to stay with him overnight while I make preparations to have him removed.

Dr Zazzerzump: *Sneers* Mr Once-ler if you do not leave, I will have to have you removed by security.

Once-ler: *Turns around and folds his arms.* Who do you think your security is funded by? Who do you think your very institute is funded by? *He squints and tilts his head.* The Thneedville government? *He scoffs at her*. You think your governments have more power than corporations? Where did you hire your security, from the government or from a company?

Dr Zazzerzump: *Remains quiet and clenches her jaw.*

Once-ler: That’s what I thought. *He tilts his head to the door.* Go on, call them, tell them to remove me… If you really think they’ll listen to your orders over mine. *Fine. He’ll play her games of ‘procedure’ and ‘protocol’, she can make this harder for him as much as she wants, that doesn’t mean she’s going to enjoy it.*

Dr Zazzerzump: *Her icy demeanour starting to crack, she tries to hold herself together, keep her composure, refrain from forming shaking fists with her hands at her sides. By the second, the Once-ler is revealing to her what little power she has, despite her doing her best to hold onto it.* Fine. *He hisses under her breath.*

Once-ler: *Turns his back to return to the Warden.* You understand then. Good. I’ll stay here with him for as long as I need. *He won’t leave until Edmund is in his custody, until he can take him out of this dreadful place. Every part of him just wants to drag him our right now, hire his own security, pay theirs off, rip him out of the straight jacket and take him home, but the amount of chaos that that would cause in both the short and long term just isn’t worth the trauma that it’d have on Edmund. For one thing he’d need to leave him to get it all done that fast, and he couldn’t bear to leave him with them- who knows what they would do while he’s unsupervised? The manic of all the action and panic could have a terrible effect on him, while doctors are grabbing at them, large security men are shouting and the Thneedville public are watching him like a spectacle. It’d be cruel to drag him through that. It’d also cause more problems in the long term for them both if if he acted so unofficially. The best thing he can do is be sensible and assertive, plan his escape right by his side, make sure it’s as easy as it can be, and never leave him alone so long as he’s still in here. He’ll need important files and equipment to do it, and that’ll take time to arrange that if he wants to stay with him the whole time, but it can be achieved. Anything can be achieved by the Once-ler. He leans down by his boyfriend and tucks the thneed into Edmund's bound arms across his front so that he can hide his face in it. He leans into his ear.* I'm not going anywhere. *He straightens up and turns to the doctors, standing between them and Edmund and acting as a barrier while looking incredibly tall at his full height and the extra tower of his hat.*

Warden: *He curls up when Oncie gives him the thneed, and the scent of butterfly milk and truffula tufts proves to the animal in the back of his mind that he's still safe. Still, he shivers when he feels Oncie pull away, and buries himself in the fluff, focusing on the gentle way Oncie spoke to him as his sluggish mind tries to hold on to whatever it can through the grey and depressing mire. He doesn't even remember what he did to deserve being locked up in here.*

Once-ler: I didn't get to where I am today, to owning all of your jobs today, under the false idea that 'not everything can be bought'. *His hand forms a fist by his side, the other one pointing a sharp finger.* I've been nice, I’ve played your game, now you're gonna listen to me. This man is leaving this building no later than tomorrow.

Dr Zazzerzump: *Opens her mouth to speak*-

Once-ler *His index finger and thumb pinch together before anyone can interject, as if making a ‘zip it’ gesture.* I don't wanna hear anymore goddamn bullshit recited from ancient documents! You can either make this easier for me or you can make it harder on yourselves, either way I'm getting what I want. I don't care what strings I have to pull, he's leaving tomorrow. You wanna know why? Because if you won't comply, then I can have all of you replaced with people who will by just making three phone calls. So it makes no difference to me other than the fact you're wasting my time!

[The nurses behind the head Dr Zazzersump and take a step back, they straighten up with a spike of adrenaline in their chests, listening to the orders like soldiers. Dr Zazzerzump blinks at him, momentarily surprised and panic setting in at that threat, which quickly turns into cold anger to hide it. She looks around her staff and can feel her own sense of control slowly crumble as the medical teams have their attention stolen away from her by the Once-ler. The man has always been very good at claiming almost anything as his own.]

Once-ler: *Starts to count on his fingers. Without shouting, now sounding more like a very strict, growling army general. Suddenly they all feel like they work for him.* I want his discharge signed. I want his duty of care handed to me. I want his clothes ready. I want him off whatever shit you've been shoving down his throat. I want his goddamn glasses! And I want it all done by 3pm tomorrow because that's how fast it will take me to fuck up your whole system here and make it mine. *If he were an animal, the hackles of his fur would be rising and his teeth would be bearing, the gruffness of his voice growling through with that last word.* Every single one of you is going to be bought because all of these procedures you're following can be bought, so you better not waste any of my goddamn time once I slam that gavel down onto your precious procedures and shove them in my back pocket! *Points a finger towards each of them.* Get it all done by 3pm tomorrow and not a second later, because The Once-ler will not be late.

[The frightened shocked doctors and nurses behind Dr Zazzersump all stare at her with gormless speechlessness. They’re ready to skitter away and do everything he’s asked without question, because, SHIT, they need to get on this fast to have it all ready by tomorrow. Dr Zazzerzump herself is sweating, and every bitter bone in her body wishes she wasn’t. How dare he turn the tables on them and make such unrealistic demands with such a short deadline, they’d have to drop everything to get this done by then.]

Dr. Zazzerzump: *She attempts to straighten up at the same rate that the Once-ler rises, meeting his eyes and paying cold attention but not interrupting him now he’s on a roll. She holds rigid against his threats and swallows, but as she notices her staff becoming more restless at the mention of procedures and paper work, she can’t find a reason to oppose it. What he's asking for is technically reasonable, if unorthodox, so he’s trapped her in a dead end, all her talk of procedures turned back on her, and thrown the threat of a deadline at them all. Thank god that it is reasonable though, in the tightest possible way of tip-toeing around all the orthodox rules, because by this point not even she wants to deal with what wrath he might bring if she refuses him again. At the end of the day, he owns this town more than anyone else, more than she owns this asylum- regrettably.*

Warden: *He hears a man yelling, and like a dreamstate he simultaneously recognises the voice as his Oncie, and expects it to belong to a very different, much more violent man - because that's the man who would normally be in a locked cell like this with him unable to fight back. It’s confusing as his hearts instinct battles his learned neurological instinct. He curls further, clenching his eyes shut even tighter and reminding himself beneath all the numb and rubbery haze that Oncie is protecting him, Oncie will come for him, and that despite the sound of that powerful voice reminding him of things more dangerous, maybe it’s only so powerful because for once it’s actually protecting him. It does sound a lot like his strong Oncie after all. He’s safe.*

Once-ler: *Pulls in a deep breath and grabs the lapels of his jacket, pulling on them to straighten them. Clears his throat.* I will stay with him here overnight, I will keep the button alarm on me should I need to make anymore requests, no-one is to come near him unless it's for very specific medical reasons I'm unqualified to perform. Food, drink, medication, cleaning, anything else will all be handled by myself, and I want him weaned off the medication ASAP. *He raises an eyebrow.* You better hurry up then.

[The nurses scatter like a flock of pigeons, forgetting for a moment that Dr Zazzerzump needed to give an official before they can, but the Once-ler is right, they do need to hurry up if they want it all done on time. They need to turn the place upside down to avoid his wrath if he’s ready to leave tomorrow at 3pm and they’re late for it. How can the man work so fast when there’s only one of him and he can’t leave a cell? They have an entire team of people but they’re the ones frantically panicking for a deadline.)

Dr Zazzerzump: *Behind her, the doctors and nurses have backed off skittishly and darted off to work, trapped between the demands of two different dangerous animals who could both ruin their lives if they make a wrong move, but the bigger one clearly won. After a pause to collect her thoughts, Dr. Zazzerzump clears her throat and raises her hand to them. They’ve already made up their minds who they’re taking orders from now, but she throws out an official instruction, just to maintain a semblance of composure.* *Clears her throat.* Yes!- Mh.. Do as he says. For 3pm tomorrow.

*They scatter out of the door like spilled marbles, leaving the two alone. Then Dr. Zazzerzump continues.*

Dr. Zazzerzump: *Bitterly* The medication is a temporary sedative; it will wear off by morning and I shall make a note that no further doses will be required. There will be a nurse on call to arrange for overnight accommodations. *Grimaces, but tries to maintain professional. The decision has already been made now, all she can do is go along with it and appear as reasonable as she can to avoid receiving that harsh report.* Should you require anything further, the staff will assist you. Is that everything, Mr. Once-ler?

Once-ler: *Finally seems like he might consider withdrawing his claws the moment people start following his orders, especially when the woman confirms it to her staff. The fact that she doesn’t even question his power, influence or ability to have everything done by tomorrow in order to take Edmund out, goes a long way to placating him. He’d have really started ruining lives, he doesn’t care who the head doctor in this place is, if she’d said something like ‘we can’t guarantee, sir, that the changes you claim to make will be completed by then, if at all, and so signing documents and making preparations for rules that aren’t already in place would be a misdirection of time as well as possibly setting us up for illegal- blah blah blah.’ Good thing they all know when they’re in the jaw of the lion.* Yes. You can leave us alone.

*Dr Zazzerzump leaves with a slight twist in her expression, letting out a silent frustrated, but almost relieved that it’s over, sigh of relief. As she and the rest of the staff move away down the corridor and the door swings shut with a heavy thunk, she can be heard issuing clipped commands to everyone else. She tries not to rush too much, because rushing tends to make mistakes, but these things will move quick.*

Once-ler: *When everyone leaves and they’re finally left in private again, he turns back to Edmund, curled up on the floor, and all the anger sighs out of him (at least for now). Drops back down to his knees and leans over him, places his hand on his shoulder.* Edmund…? *His eyebrows knot up.* Edmund it’s me, they’re all gone.

Warden: *He pulls slightly tighter around himself when he feels the pressure of someone's footsteps on the floor beside him. The pressure on his shoulder doesn't make him jump - it can't – but he feels a spike of fear, in automatic self defence he tries to strike like a cornered rat and bite the hand. In reality though, he just manages to turn slowly and gasp. And then Oncie speaks, and he forgets everything except that his knight in shining armour is here.*

Warden: *He cracks open his eyes and looks up at Oncie, his brow creased with worry, desperate to get himself moving enough to talk but unable to force it.* O-okay. *He needs those bright blue eyes so much, but they're so bright he can barely look at them. His pupils visibly shrink against them. He shuts his eyes tight again with distress, hating the grey and how close he is to everything terrible around him.*

*This is so much. The cogs in his brain try to turn, and he thinks that he wants to break the bad feelings with a joke, or a flippant comment - it's not a conscious thought, but it's what the instincts in him tell him to do. He forces himself to speak again, his voice a hushed whisper.* ...I’m s- I'm really... Really scared.

Once-ler: *Sees the way Edmund almost tries to flinch and his eyebrows knot up harder. He can't even protect himself, it's so sad. Then that recognition comes and he swallows, his stomach fluttering with sad little butterflies but fluttering nonetheless.* I- I know, I know you are. *Sighs out and immediately drops down to wrap his arms around him and bundle him up again. He knew he'd get nowhere asking for them to release him from the straight jacket, not if they won’t even let him have his glasses because he's too unpredictable apparently. He was hoping he might be able to fumble with it himself once alone, but as he hugs him and feels around the back of it, he feels the padlocks and realises that not just anyone outside of the wrapped patient himself is free to mess with it. He mentally sighs, but just becomes more kind and gentle in response.* It's okay if you're scared. *His voice becomes thick but he holds himself together.* It's okay, but you don't have to be scared now, because- because I'm here s- so you're safe, and nothing is going to hurt you or scare you anymore. *Cups his hand around the back of his head and pulls him into his shoulder, and plants a long pressed kiss into his head.*

Warden: *His arms shuffle what little they can in an unconscious attempt to reach out and hold onto Oncie, but the best he can do is curl up as close as he can into the hug. Eyes shut, surrounded by his scent, he listens to the words and slowly translates them - he has to wait for each word to pop into meaning like bubbles from the ocean floor. His body relaxes a little bit, unable to protect himself anymore - no powers, no strength, not even his special filter that means nothing is real and nothing really matters. Suddenly everything matters, and it all wants to hurt him. Except Oncie. He's still here, he didn't leave forever. He sniffs, still tearful, and nuzzles into his shoulder and the thneed still tangled up between them. That kiss sends a wave of relief and love through him, and he realises without surprise that he's crying again. He shuffles again against the jacket, not enough to be considered 'a struggle', but miserably testing what it is. In a slightly thicker voice of his own, he asks,* What did I do? *He's obviously in trouble, he obviously did something, because he's in prison. If he wasn't so addled he'd be mad on his own behalf and flailing about it again, but all he can figure right now is that everyone's upset with him except Oncie, and that doesn't feel great.*

Once-ler: *Opens his eyes wide when he's asked what he did wrong, and he doesn't know how to answer. Even if the Warden wasn't sedated and put up a good fight, he'd crack eventually. He might go feral for a bit, but these people are… ‘trained’ to handle a dangerous, damaged psych patient like him. He's the Warden to himself, he's The Once-ler's soulmate to the man holding him, but the reality is that to them he's just another severe case like so many other names on a list and fading faces in the facility rooms. Their treatment of him is completely wrong, but he’s not a stable man, that’s the reality, and right now there's a lot of reality, there isn't a lot of Edmund. A runt might try to put up a good fight with it's teeth and it's ratty snarls, but in the end it'll still drop down under the teeth of a dog bigger and scarier than it, when it’s adrenaline has worn off and it knows it can’t put up a fight, when it's instincts tell it how small it really is and that it should just conserve it's energy and lie down. Edmund, at his heart, is a meek man. The thought of him being lost here, hiding fearfully in the corner of a room away from the dogs that beat the defences out of him, just like his father did, is the worst nightmare he ever could have conjured up.*

Once-ler: *His arms grip around him tighter, tighter than the jacket, and the way he feels him weakly squirm makes his heart break. He pulls back just enough to see his face, hand still cupping the back of his head, so it isn't heavy for Edmund to hold up.* Ohh... *His eyebrows knot.* It was just... *He doesn't even know what to say. He glances down his body and starts to shuffle them so they can rest against the wall in the corner of the room where it's most secluded.* You must be cold, let me help. *He shuffles up into the corner, carrying his boyfriend slowly with him, and takes the thneed back. He lets him rest between his legs against his front while he stretches out the thneed and turns it into a blanket. His heart is pounding and he's trying to swallow down an emotional lump, then he lays the thneed blanket over Edmund and then shuffles out of his own green tailcoat and lays that over him too to create a second, heavier layer to keep the warmth in. Pressed between Oncie's front, then the thneed and Oncie's weighted jacket, he wraps his arms around him and hugs him to his chest.* There. There, that's better.

Warden: *When Oncie cups his face, he looks up into his eyes as best he can and tries to understand what he did. Deep down, beneath all of his delusions, the current sedatives, the self-denial and the fantasies, he knows he's doing bad things. But if he didn't do those bad things, he'd be doing something even worse by letting down the terrible spirit of his father. To be good he has to be a good prison warden, and a good prison warden is vicious, cruel and controlling. But, because he's always been an empathetic baby, he knows that to be vicious, cruel and controlling makes people hate you and makes you a bad person. He can't win. There is no condition where everyone likes him and is pleased with him, so the only conclusion he has ever been able to come to is that he's just an inherently bad human being. But that's okay if he's louder than everyone else, insists to everyone else that he isn’t until he’s *delusional*, and tries to make them happy occasionally by making things fun. That's why he includes the prisoners in his science fairs and vacations and car races – bad, boring wardens wouldn’t do that, right?*

 *His expression breaks, tears filling his eyes as his mouth quivers and devastation spreads across his features. When he was a little boy, the scariest thing in the world was the thought of being abandoned for being bad. Now, here, it feels like reality itself is doing just that - he's been shoved out the way and left behind. He clamps up and tries not to make a sound, in case that's bad too.*

*He's completely pliable as Oncie moves them, trying to help but he can only move his legs and he can't move them much. When they settle, though, and he's covered in layers of warm weight and held all tightly in his protector's arms, reality feels that bit further away and he remembers that he's not been abandoned. Not fully, not by everyone.* *With a little bleat, he nods. It is better. His bare feet push against the cold floor beneath the blankets so that he's pushed against Oncie's front.* *After a moment, he finds the words to say.* Whatever I did... I- I didn't mean to... *That's a lie. But he'd do anything to be kept.*

Once-ler: *Feels his heart break when he sees the tears and tries to catch them with his thumb as he cups his cheek. He hugs him to his front, treasuring him like he's the only teddy-bear his parents have ever been able to afford, and clinging to him like a child hiding from the shadows in a wardrobe. Gasps at his words and whispers.* You didn't- It was an accide- it was a mistake- *He feels distinctly, innocently, devastated and sick to his stomach with guilt and worry, in an almost confused way that a juvenile would. As if he's at fault of doing something so bad to the younger kid living next door, who he often goes out to play with, but it's also his responsibility to take care of. But this time he convinced him to jump into the lake, climb too far up a tree, go too close to a wild animal, and it's his fault now that something terrible happened to him, and he's terrified of being told off by both their mom’s. So he just hides in the woods with him, trying to fix it and not knowing how, and just telling him that he's okay and everything will be fine, but he also feels sick with horror. His voice breaks.* But- but I'm going to fix it- I will! I'll fix it!

*He gasps as tears form in his own eyes and he curls around him. He's letting him down, he can't do anything right, he can't even get him out of this place in a city that be basically owns.* I- I'm so sorry- It's my fault. *His expression breaks down and he pulls him to his front, hooking his head over his shoulder and shaking it with guilt. He's useless. He can't even protect him from his own damn city.* I'm sorry, I'm s- so, so sorry, Edmund. I'm so sorry.

Warden: *He nuzzles against him, drying his tears on Oncie's front and pressing against him for safety until his muscles start to soften - he can't keep the effort up for very long, but he always stays hugged up in his arms. He lets out a soft hiccup when he hears that it was an accident, or a mistake, whatever it was. He can't remember how he ended up here - every memory is fuzzy and indistinct like a dream that fades faster the more he tries to grasp for it - but at least Oncie doesn't blame him. Right now that's the very final thing that matters, like the last star still burning in the sky. Everything else has failed, but Oncie is always there, and he never leaves him.*

*He doesn't quite understand when Oncie says he'll 'fix it'. He doesn't know what there is to fix, because prison is an inevitable force that can't be changed. It's like saying you'll fix a sunset. His eyes crack open again, wet eyelashes fluttering against his boyfriend's neck while his own dears don’t cease.* Hm? *The cogs try to turn again.* W-Why? *His voice is hushed, but it's still his usual loopy, lyrical lisp, with a quiver of sadness.* You're here. *That is the only thing that matters. The only thing.*

Once-ler: *Looks down at him with wet eyelashes too.* Because, well because you're still here too and I think it's my fault you are. *He sniffs and begins wiping the Warden's tears away with his hand, since he can't do it himself.* But- but like I said, I'll fix it. *He makes sure not to talk too quickly, to let the words sink in.* I'm going to take you back home, I'm going to make you feel better. It just- *he hiccups as another tear appears and he wipes it away on his shoulder,* It just won't be right now. But I'm not going anywhere, I'm staying here with you until I can make everything okay again- and then forever after that.

Warden: *He looks up at Oncie with half-lidded eyes, still tight enough in the corners that the middle-aged creases around them are visible, but more relaxed than they have been thus far. He blinks slowly when Oncie wipes his tears away, foggy from the sedatives, believing everything he says because he has no choice but to do so, and trusting him because how could he not? He knows in his heart that nobody should like him enough to be here, but Oncie is because they're in love.*

*His subconscious can't quite believe it when he's told they're going to get out of here, not because he doesn't trust Oncie but because he's never known a reality where a prison wasn't an ultimate and inescapable thing. If he was sober he'd believe him, but he can't right now. However, when he says he'll be with him forever 'after that'... something shifts. To hear that Oncie wants to be with him forever shakes up the foundations he otherwise fully believed in, and the idea that there might be a forever after this suddenly becomes plausible. His eyes widen just a little bit more - even as glassy as they are - and a smile slowly spreads across his face, welling up with hopeful, emotional, grief-stricken tears as raw feeling is able to bleed up through the sedation.* Ye... yeah? *He sounds so hopeful, and with the tone of a soldier wanting someone to keep talking to him as he bleeds out on the battlefield, his chest shuddering with emotional hiccups. Nuzzled up against him, able to feel his heartbeat and bury in his scent, looking up at him and hearing his voice - if he can't have his glasses, he can put a new barrier between himself and the rest of reality.*

Once-ler: *His heart breaks and clutches at the hope in the Warden's voice, seeing him smile makes some ray of hope bloom in him too. Nothing can stop the happiness that the Warden brings to the Once-ler when he smiles, no amount of sedatives or guilt, when the man shows that grin, shows the cute gap in his teeth and has that hope in his eyes, it can’t stop Oncie from smiling back to greet him. As his eyes well up again with painful love at the way the Warden’s overflow, he smiles a little too.* Ye-hes...* He almost sobs out silently, between his quivering, smiling lips. He sniffs, then leans in slowly, gently cups Edmunds cheek to tilt towards him, and presses his lips to his. The kiss lingers in softness, barely any pressure applied but the sentiment still clear. His arms squeeze him tenderly a little bit, and after he pulls away he gazes into his eyes and replies in a low voice.* Yes. I promise.

Warden: *He drinks in Oncie's smile like it's sunlight, fortifying him a little better and feeding that faith that everything is going to be alright. He can't envision what it might look like (which spooks him, because he has a very vivid imagination) but he believes that he'll feel better soon. Like a feedback loop, Oncie's returned smile only makes his bigger too. Then they kiss, and under the sedatives it feels like his stomach has erupted like an underwater volcano, something hot and wild and frantically desperate, dampened by a thick layer of vacuum, but unmistakeably there. It feels like he’s been kissed for the very first time, by the only person he’ll love for the rest of his life. It takes him a second to react before his lips twitch and then he's kissing back too - with a similar light pressure, but still very much a presence. Oncie is here, and Oncie loves him, he’s been saved. They draw back, and he looks up at him with utter trust, wide and glassy-eyed, but believing in him as the most powerful force of nature to exist. His eyes might be foggy, but his smile shines through for him.*

Once-ler: *Pulls away from the kiss and adores the smile on Edmunds face. He desperately needs that belief- because no-one else has ever believed in him. Strokes his thumb over his cheek as he cups his face and he gazes into his eyes, wiping away some more tears for his boyfriend. His eyebrows knot up as he blinks his own away and he sighs out sadly.* My little bunny... *Kisses his forehead again and tilts his head in concern, squinting his own eyes as if trying to stop them from being so bright, because he knows they're bright for the Warden without his glasses.* Do your eyes hurt?

Warden: *The combination of Oncie's gentle handling, the safe weight of the covers and the kind tone of his voice softens the Warden's body until he's a warm, heavy weight against his front. He still squints as he looks up into Oncie's eyes, but he doesn't want to lose him by shutting his own.* *It takes him a moment to translate the question, especially since he's still glowing over the kind and loving pet-name, but then he replies quietly,* Mmhmm... a little. *He doesn't care anymore, though. As long as his world is so small that it's only the two of them, he can survive even if they do ache.* I-it's okay.

Once-ler: *Eyebrows knot up in sympathy.* I can't get your glasses but- *Reaches up above his top hat where his sunglasses rest on his head and takes them, while also removing his hat and placing it down.* You can wear mine if it makes you more comfortable. *He helps him try them on, knowing that they're not yellow lenses so can't make anything warmer, but they are dark and so might helps soothe some of the brightness or overwhelming peripheral vision. The weight of glasses on his face might also just provide something of a placebo effect, who knows?* Does that feel better, or no?

Warden: *He watches with glassy docility as Oncie places the glasses on his face, and as darkness falls over his vision he blinks in curiosity. Then the unseen tension in his shoulders relax and the lines around his eyes soften. That feels much better - even if they still aren't right and don't make him feel like he's in his own little fantasy world, he does at least have the separation and some rest for his weak eyes.*

*He smiles up at him from behind his sunglasses, looking quite the picture in his colourless hospital clothes, restraints, and Oncie's sunglasses.* Much better. *He shuffles against him, unable to inch any closer but just wanting to feel the action of drawing nearer to him anyway.* Thank you... *He thanks him as innocently as a child knowing to be polite, but with all the love they share together.*

Once-ler: *Gently smiles when he sees that it's made him feel somewhat better.* Good~ *Leans down and kisses his forehead.* You're welcome. *His stomach squirms as he feels Edmund shift and for a moment wonders if he's uncomfortable, but then he settles against him.* They suit you. *He says with a quiet chuckle, wanting to ease some tension with a playful compliment.

Warden: *Blinks at Oncie with his own, slightly delirious, giggle. He looks up at him with endless gratitude, even just for the slight attempt at play with the compliment, because any amount of play is a good distraction away from bad feelings for the Warden.*

Once-ler: *He smiles back with depth behind his gaze. His heart then skips a beat as he thinks about saying it again, and maybe hearing it back, although he wouldn't worry if he doesn't because knows now that he's capable of it at least. His arms squeeze around him gently, lovingly and he mumbles by his ear.* I love you.

Warden: *He's so glad he's squeezed back, too. He wants that tangible sense of being as close as possible, so his senses are full with the fact that he's protected - because it's really spooky being unable to do anything to defend himself. When he hears those three words again, his body rises with a deep breath of relief and a rush of giddy - if woozy - happiness. Hearing those words still doesn't feel real, those words never applied to him before this man came along, and on some foggy level he understands that even now in all this bad feeling Oncie still wants him enough to be here and say that. Emotion rises in the back of his throat and for a moment his heart flutters. He loves him too.*

*He wants to say those words back. In the addled and muzzy confusion of the past few hours, he's not sure if he's ever been able to or not, but those are also dangerous words that might mean something very bad happens if he says them out loud. He doesn't want to bring down an axe on Oncie right when they're at their weakest, but at the same time he wants to say it so bad.* I-I... *He swallows, then quickly nods as a lump rises in his throat. Silently, he begs Oncie to understand.*

Once-ler: *His hand rises into the Warden's hair and he strokes his fingers through it. He smiles as he watches him try to reply, and doesn't force him, the fact that he's trying to is proof enough, it always has been. His stomach flutters and he leans down to press his lips against his head. He adds quietly when the Warden stops himself.* I know.

Warden: *He's so relieved to hear that Oncie doesn't need him to say it. If he did, the pressure would be too much, especially right now, and he wouldn't know what to do to make it go away. As it is, rather than struggle with the darkness, he's able to float in his arms, and even though he's far from home and can't move his body and doesn't know what to do, he's still kind of cosy. Even a little bit happy.*

*A few moments ago, he said those words because he wasn't sure if he'd ever see Oncie again, and if Oncie was getting away from him then... he was escaping, so maybe he'd hear them and wouldn't be hurt. That was the thought process, the desperation, that managed to coax those words out of him. As he clings to his soulmate's front as best he can, calmer and more aware that they're both here and both 'in danger', he isn't sure they have that freedom. A big man with an axe might enter at any moment. But somehow he still feels like Oncie might be a bigger man. He tilts his head closer to Oncie's chest and says very quietly, forcing the words forward,* A-are we safe?

Once-ler: *His hand comes round and clutches his head protectively when he feels him tilt towards his chest, and when he asks that question he opens his mouth to reply, but then a quick knock taps against the door and the sound of locks clicking with keys echoes through. His attention flicks to it and his grip tightens around Edmund, not to worry him but to make him aware he's protected. He stares towards the incoming sound like a wolf ready to pounce with sharp eyes, ready to snarl at the threat. But he suddenly remembers to collect himself.*

*The knock isn't so much of a request to enter as it is a warning someone is entering, the kind of half assed knock an aged mother gives on her teenage sons bedroom door before sweeping in to dump a pile of laundry on the bed. It's not so much of a knock and entry as it is two hard taps and the immediate creak of the metal hospital door as it sweeps open and white light floods through. An older, plumper woman enters with a younger nurse by her side. The former has been a carer for forty years, the latter didn't want to come back here alone.*

Older nurse: Evenin' Mr. Once-ler, sorry to disturb, but we've brought the overnight stuff by instruction of Dr. Zazzerzump. *She has bags under her eyes, her voice is nasally and she speaks her words with a slow drawl. She's a chunky, round figure and is the type of old nurse who has changed so many bedpans over the years that nothing disgusts or surprises her anymore. Although some patients occasionally do, including this one, but she's good at brushing it off and getting on with her job.* C'mon Lissie! *She enters further into the room holding a large roll of bedding like a lady Viking shifting a boulder. Lessie, a younger, fairly new nurse shuffles in hesitantly after her with pillows.* Do you want it assem-ba-lin' for you, Sir?

Warden: *Suddenly there's noise and voices and loud rattling, and it hits him all wrong because his brain can't process things properly right now. If he was by himself he'd panic and fear would strike and thrash him at them like a prey animal caught in a net. Flinching at and away from them somewhere between impulsive attempts to snap defensively and simply shriek from fright- or, that's what he'd think he'd be doing. In reality the sedative is too much to let him do anything shake out of fear and try to hiss. But his instincts are different now that there's someone else to take care of him, a bigger predator able to fight for him, and so that panicked, protective aggression doesn't trigger. Instead, he's just terrified and begging for rescue. He yelps at the sudden noise, and instinctively dives further against Oncie as if he were trying to dig himself into the ground. His body can be felt to begin to shake, and his hands tighten under his restraints as he grips onto himself in an automatic attempt to protect his organs. He lets out a small sound of fear and manages to dig his heel into the ground and shove himself as hard as he can into Oncie's arms, trying to hide in him like a deer hiding between the legs of a stag.*

Once-ler: *Is frowning towards the noise, but he blinks at the Warden's sudden rustling and hiding and feels his heart clutch in his chest as the same rate his hands clutch around him. His gaze snaps towards the door, now not so furious because things are more in his control and he has his soulmate back in his arms, but still protective. He assumes it's nurses returning to drop off the overnight accommodations he was promised, but Edmund doesn't have enough comprehension of what's happening to understand that's all this is. He pulls him into his front, hiding his face in his chest as he holds his hand against the back of his head and pulls their makeshift covers up a little more over him. He feels the shaking and hears the sound, and as his stomach clenches he can't help but whisper down to him that he's okay. Then he orders at the women.* No, just drop them down there and go. I'll do them myself.

Warden: *He's tense - really, really tense - as he grits his teeth and tries to block out the fact that reality is once again intruding on his world just when it was starting to arrange itself in a tiny little bubble he could kind of begin to handle. He was okay, for a second when it was just them. But the noise leaves him exposed to the real world again, to people who threaten everything about him. Even them just looking at him means he's not The Warden, which is the only thing his mind can deal with.*

*He's not sure if he'll end up bending his sunglasses with the force he's putting on them as he buries himself in Oncie's front. His arms shove, just once, in a panicked attempt to grab around his boyfriend's waist or flail at oncoming danger, but it's not strong and the jacket prevents anything from really happening. He can hear his breathing squeak, but he does at least calm a little bit when he hears Oncie talk to him. He stops his minute attempts at struggling, though his heart still flutters and he still freezes against him like a rabbit caught in an open field.*

Older Nurse: *Shrugs and drops the things on the floor. Lissie does the same, dropping down the pillows and a bag containing some overnight supplies. She grumbles on her way out barely heard.* A 'thank you' would be nice… Young men these days-

Nurse Lessie: *Nudges the older nurse and points over to the Warden. Whispers to her.* Nurse Julie, is that allowed?

Warden: *He doesn't really follow what they're saying, but he recognises the tones enough to hear when they drop the things on the floor - which makes him jump anyway - and start to leave. He begins to soften, just a little, but then they start talking again and he kicks at the ground beneath the covers and whispers Oncie's name in the smallest voice, begging him to make them go away.*

Once-ler: *He feels the pressure against him and doesn't care if his sunglasses are bent so long as they don't end up hurting the Warden himself. The kicking and the little whisper of his name only makes that anger surge up harder because now he's responding to his soulmates fear and feels anxious to defend his space. He just made a warm nest for him and they're invading it.*

Nurse Julie: *Huffs and looks over with her hand on her hips, adjusting her own glasses when she notices the new ones on the Warden.* Sir, I can't say that won't count as contraband like his own if he's-

Once-ler: *Is currently hooking his chin over the Warden's head and stroking his back with his hand under the coat and thneed. He rolls his eyes and snaps at her, the demand barked and final.* Just get out.

Warden: *Flinches at the sudden loud voice, his common sense even more inhibited with the sedatives and therefore his learned behaviour responds instinctively with a flinch to the shout of the angry man. But a split second later, he recognises the voice as his Oncie, which makes sense because the shout was very close and Oncie is hugging him right now, and that flinch immediately settles because he knows he’s being protected. Oncie is so powerful and has such a presence, he’d recognise that voice of his anywhere, it’s the voice that shows strength and makes demands around Superjail despite everything. Even in the jaws of Superjail, Oncie is still a force to be reckoned with. For some reason, that foggy thought almost makes his throat close up.*

Nurse Julie: *Rolls her eyes and shrugs as she turns and then leads Lessie out of the room.* There, that's your answer. *They close it all back up and leave them in peace.*

The Once-ler: *Once the women are gone, his attention immediately turns back to the man in his arms, even if a part of him is still watching their surroundings so that Edmund knows someone is.* Hey, hey, it's okay, they're gone. *He curls around him and rubs his lips against his head, speaking in a softer voice.* You're safe now.

Warden: *He's shaking like a leaf when the door shuts, eyes clenched shut, and realising beneath everything that he's in a really, really bad place, and that for him to be in this really bad place, something really has gone wrong. A certain existential understanding falls over him, but he doesn't have the processing power to handle it. He's actually in trouble. This is a situation that might not just go away like a sickness or a nightmare, but this might mean his life has really changed permanently. His eyes fly open and he looks up at Oncie like he's desperate to see something other than the terrible world he's landed himself in, and he whispers the word that signals that he wants everything to stop. His white flag, his safe-word, the sign that he wants to be in his bed now, and for the ride to stop so he can get off.* I'm sorry. *His voice is barely audible, but his expression is a mask of anguish. He pants with the appearance of falling into a pain-induced panic.* I'm so sorry.

Once-ler: *The shaking only makes him grip harder, as if it might keep him stable, especially at the way Edmund tries to hug for him but just can't. All he can do is hold him back with more strength, and at the least it keeps him warm so the chill doesn't make the shaking worse. Then he feels him lift his head and so he looks back down to him, and that expression of complete, traumatised surrender breaks his heart so hard that it makes him gasp out loud. Then those words come, and he loses his own. He doesn't know what to say, he feels his tongue go cold with a kind of horrified nausea. He shakes his head, eyes wide with knotted eyebrows as he gazes into his eyes and tries to just understand what he means.*

*Something in his expression, in his eyes, is telling him and he thinks he might just see the existential anguish in them. He just wants it to stop, he knows he's been bad - because he's in a bad place, and that's how he knows it works - but he doesn't quite know or remember what he's done. But he feels it, and he'll just apologise for anything, to anyone, to hope it might make the pain go away, that it might stop the punishment. When has he ever offered that grace to anyone himself? Maybe he doesn't even know it's an option, which makes this even more devastating if it's just a broken last cry for help that he knows is hopeless. Nevertheless, what he begs for is a thing that, in his childhood and world view, has always been nothing but an inconceivable idea that’s as real as the Easter bunny. That thing is mercy.*

*He sighs out a shuddering pained breath and cups his face gently with his hand.* Ohh... Bunny... *He swallows, feeling a small lump in his throat. He can only think of one thing to say, whether or not it's appropriate to come from him. None of this seems personal, none of it seems specific, it's all just highly emotional and much like Edmund will say anything to make the punishment end, Oncie will say whatever he needs to hear to ease him in this moment.* I forgive you. *He pulls him into his shoulder and curls around him, his knees coming up even more to cradle him.* You're forgiven. I can't make the bad things stop right now but I can promise you that you're not in trouble, not with me. You were never in trouble with me. *He kisses the side of his head a few times* And I'm staying here, and as long as I'm here with you, you're in a place where you're not in danger, you're not in trouble and you're not being punished, even if you're upset and hurting.

Warden: *His wide eyes stare up through the sunglasses and lock onto Oncie's, desperate for them. When his hand cups his face, he tilts into it so that his cheek is slightly smushed by his palm, a sliver of his teeth visible between parted lips, and big, terrified eyes filling with tears. When Oncie says those words, for a moment his world stops. His eyes can't pull any wider, but his breath pauses and something settles deep down in him - the little motor that had been driving him to higher and higher panic, telling him that he was in trouble and to run. When he hears that he's forgiven, it starts to very carefully melt down.*

*He's pulled in, and again he tries to hard to hug back but the best he can do is press against him and nuzzle into his warm embrace. His eyes don't shut but they do tighten as tears fall again, and he watches Oncie from the hug like he doesn't dare turn away and find out that he's a figment of a dream. He hears Oncie tell him that he's not in trouble, that he's never been in trouble with Oncie, and that he's going to stay here. That he's not in danger and he's not going to be hurt even though he doesn't feel good. A little bleat splutters out of him as he absorbs those kisses, needing them so badly.*

*'Forgiveness' has never been a word in the Warden's vocabulary. In day-to-day life, sure, he'll forgive a slight. He'll forgive his friends for mistakes and accidents, or deliberately pretend they don't hate him if they do something that hurts, but that's not mercy. Mercy is different. He's never once granted mercy to a prisoner without an ulterior motive. The only other time he ever showed mercy was when he dared to feed that puppy, and they both know what happened after that. Justice and mercy are two sides of the same coin, but he's never flipped his over. His father never flipped it over either - all he's ever known is black-and-white punishment for crimes. Mercy is ‘cheating’, as his Father would think. But he's so scared, and he'd do anything to make the fear go away. He'll cheat if he has to, not realising that he's not 'cheating', but genuinely crying out for help because his mind and sanity are still fighting for a shred of survival and he’s too small and weak to do it himself. His whisper of those words might as well be a scream from a burning building.*

Once-ler: *He doesn't realise that what the Warden’s psychology really reads is him granting him mercy, although that is the truth to what Oncie is offering him. Because as Edmund begs the universe for mercy in his moment of pain, the universe has granted it to him in the form of The Once-ler. Out of everything around him, this is the kind offering, the acceptance of the white flag, the hearing of the safe word and the offer to help cease the pain. That doesn't mean he can change the rest of his situation, but one corner of this situation is merciful. He does consciously know forgiveness however. He knows guilt and he knows how much freedom forgiveness can bring a person, because he knows that he himself would still be in a terrible place had the Lorax not forgiven him for all he'd done.*

Warden: *After a moment, he gives a pitiful nod. With a wet, little laugh he nuzzles his nose into his neck. He's still scared, but as Oncie insists on those promises, the dread begins to lift. He plants a gentle kiss against him.*

The Once-ler: *That lump in his throat grows as he sees the Warden's reaction, but he stays strong, his stomach flutters at the gentle kiss against him and he bundles him up in a little squirm. They couldn't be closer but he still wants him to feel cuddled.* You're safe, Edmund, it's just you and me, and nothing can hurt you when I'm with you. *His voice is low and soft and he kisses his head again.* I love you. *He pulls back just enough to look at him and cup his face, he smiles softly, wiping a tear from his cheek with his thumb.* And in a moment I'm going to wrap us up in that soft blanket, lie us down in the pillows, and we're going to cuddle up together all night. Now that doesn't sound much like punishment, huh?

Warden: *The fear leaves him in layers, each one peeling away or falling to dust, one-by-one as Oncie handles him so tenderly. The existential dread leaves him first, as Oncie promises him that he's not in trouble and reminds him that even if he's uncomfortable, he's not going to be harmed by anyone so long as he's here. Beneath that is an animal tension, ready to spring and try to run or try to defend himself, or cry for help as his instincts prepare for a wolf attack. He's so vulnerable, and he knows it, that he's been flooding himself with adrenaline that's been battling the sedatives in his bloodstream for what must be hours. As he's cuddled up and as Oncie gives him a warm place to curl, as he kisses him and cups his face and says he'll always protect him, that slowly falls away as well.*

*Soon he's left only with the fear at the very bottom of it all, that will probably not go away until they get out of this place. That fear is manageable - it's just an undercurrent of knowledge that he hasn't got his shield and that life is scary and that he's not in Superjail anymore, and that can be carried so long as he's not left by himself. As long as Oncie is handling everything else, he can handle that.*

*It takes him a second for Oncie's words to sink through the fog, but then he nods with a weary, relieved smile, even a little chuckle in his voice.* Mmhmm~ *The smile pushes a final tear down his cheek and over Oncie's thumb, and he blushes ever-so-slightly pink when he's told that he loves him. Soft blankets and a warm bed sound very good right about now.*

Once-ler: *Lets out a soft, loving hum of laughter that's only just audible. His own chest doesn't feel quite as panicked anymore even though he still wants to get Edmund out of here as fast as possible. He's accepted what he can't change and is focusing in what he can control, and now that he can tell his boyfriend's heart rate is calming down, his own is relaxing too and becomes a calm thud against Edmund's front. A hand slides into his hair and he pulls him gently down under his chin and rests his lips against his head as he softly draws his fingertips through his hair in rhythmic circles. He loves him, more than anything in the world, he loves him, so even if Edmund couldn't be released in some ridiculous universe where the Once-ler doesn't get what he wants, he'd stay here in this room with him for an eternity. He whispers.* We'll stay here a moment and then I'll sort the bed out, okay? *He kisses his head, and just so soothe him a little more, he starts to slowly hum a little jingle he once made up about Thneeds and how everybody needs one.*

Warden: *His eyes close as Oncie's hand slides into his hair, his senses still trying to be alert for danger but failing as a sense of comfort, of utter relief, overwhelms him. He curls up under his partner's chin as he's guided, and a few more tears fall down his face - healing tears after a long day fraught with terror, rather than the cry for help they were before. He makes a soft sound that he understands, when Oncie tells him he'll move in a moment to get things sorted, and the softest, most musical little laugh escapes him when he hears that jingle. If he's playing, they really must be okay.*

*The fear fades as his world becomes encapsulated in the Once-ler's arms, and the emotions rush in slowly but surely, like an avalanche of honey. He adores this man. He needs him more than he has ever needed anything else, because he's saving him - not just protecting him like his glasses or his prison. His lips quiver with just how intensely and just how truly those emotions hit, and after a moment he pushes his face into Oncie's neck to whisper words that would normally be so terrifying but right now feel like the only things that matter.* I-I... *His voice is so quiet, not wanting the universe to hear his confession of guilt and weakness, because these words were always treated like that's what they were. But if Oncie has the power to make even mercy exist, then maybe he’s right, maybe his Father was also wrong about those three words. He said them already, in a fit of desperation that he only half-understands, but he says them now like it's a secret he's privileged to keep.* …*He takes a soft, deep breath and pushes himself harder into his arms.* I-I love you...

Once-ler: *He's happily curled around his boyfriend, loving the way he nestles into his neck and starts to calm down. When he starts to speak, he thinks he's about to try and ask or say something else; it's only when he actually says the words that it surprises him.*

*He wasn't expecting to hear the response, but he realises that Edmund finally feels safe enough to say it, because he's here with him. His chest clutches, time slows down again and he feels a lump in his throat that makes emotional, incredulous tears appear in his eyes again. He sniffs and lets out a quiet breath of laughter, grinning from ear to ear. His heart can be felt racing, hammering in his chest with a rush of joy and excitement despite the terrible circumstances they're in. This could be the most happiest he's felt in a long time, despite them both being in the most awful nightmare, all because he adores this man more than life itself and the man has the courage to tell him the same, finally. He sniffs and leans in, nuzzling his nose just under his cheek to gently tilt his face like a kind, larger animal shifting a smaller one.* I love you too, Bunny.

*He meets his lips and they press together, his own parting slightly and softly to linger against his with a few nuzzling smooches, as his arms squeeze around him with the same strength of push that Edmund presses into him. He doesn't overwhelm him, but he does consume his meekness with affection and adoration, surrounding him with his arms and capturing his lips like a flurry of flowers blooming against his skin. He tilts his head into it and lets out a soft sigh as a tear rolls down his cheek. As he pulls away he gazes into the Warden's eyes, the pair of them both tear-filled over their love for each other and he smiles. He grins and whispers* I love you too.

Warden: *It takes a moment, but when Oncie kisses him his lips respond in kind, his heart beating like a fluttering bird in the cage of his ribs, and his cheeks blooming with more colour. They part just a little bit and brush against him, as slow and earnest as a leaf bending for the sun. He bends with the gentle, primal nudge of his face, and dares to crack open his eyes to gaze up at him. The corners of his mouth weakly pull into a broad smile, all the more quavering but all the happier when they're said to him again.*

*He's so happy to hear those words returned, because even though he's certain of their love, he isn't certain about those words, and there's always a chance that they could magically make everything terrible if he's heard to say them out loud. Oncie's voice, however, is bigger than his is, and it's like he drowns out all the threats and dangers that start to clamour for his mind the moment he says the same thing.*

The Once-ler: *The Once-ler closes his eyes and pulls Edmund under his chin again, he begins pressing repeated kisses into his head and around his face, slowly and softly so he's not overwhelmed, but showering him in love still, and holding him like he's the most valuable thing the Once-ler has ever worked so hard to earn. And then, he rests his cheek on his head, safely tucked under his chin, within the warm comfort of his makeshift covers. They rest in the moment, they can face the world again together tomorrow, right now, all that matters is that they’re back together and nothing will pull the Once-ler’s greatest treasure from his greedy, loving hands.*

Warden: *He closes his eyes as he's tucked under Oncie's chin, his whole body melting against him, relying on him entirely to bear his weight. That is, until Oncie starts to push those gentle kisses into his head and face, his drugged senses reading that movement as he would a flurry of kisses if he were at his best. His feet give a very weak and heavy kick of delight as a breathy, lyrical laugh falls from him, delighted at so much fuss and adoration. The Once-ler came back for him, and that’s the only thing that matters. He's loved, and he loves, and even though everything seems to have gone wrong, and even though the whole world seems to hate him right now, and even though the loud, angry, scary voice in his head would disagree, that love is the only thing that matters.*

[mvjerbs]

I can't take it anymore.

I have nimona aus in my head that are just making me shake in place because I have to hold back the urge to scream and run around. I need to share them, might draw them soon if I can.

I'll start with Shapeshifter!Ballister au:

same events happened but with Ballister being the shape shifter.

despite being the monster that everyone feared, Ballister still believed that he can change the mindset of people by becoming a knight and protecting them. So he snuck in and, through the power and kindness of the queen(bless her), he was given a chance to become a knight.

he plans to reveal his true self once he accomplishes a big goal which is to save people from a great danger and gain their trust.

during the knighting of knights when the queen got killed, Ballister escaped by shapeshifting which made the people panic because "aaaa the monster is here and he is a part of the knights!". (Am torn if I should let him lose his arm or not)

ballister hides away in a tower that he accidentally stumbles upon.

the tower turns out to be nimona's hideout (she's human here).

nimona is an outcast orphan and infamous troublemaker that ambrosius had to constantly catch, but despite that, both are close to one another.

ambrosius is aware of her problems and is trying to help her out. So he's pretty soft for her.

she found him and recognized him as the shapeshifter in the news. she immediately asked him to shapeshift cause she thinks it's cool.

upon hearing what happened, nimona helps Ballister in proving his innocence.

skip to the part where he and nimona argue, Ballister tries to push her away because nimona almost died and that he starts to accept that he really is a monster who is bound to bring destruction and despair wherever he goes.

nimona tries to argue back but the institute found the hideout, Ballister escapes to the wishing well.

consumed in his grief, he transforms into a monster and enters the kingdom. Instead of walking to the statue to kill himself like what nimona did in the movie, he stays in one place instead and let's the institute kill him.

ambrosius notices how Ballister just stayed in one place and did not attack at all. It made him reconsider because it's literally the love of his life, they spend years together and there was not a single moment where Ballister had harmed him at all.

he ordered the knights to stand down but was ignored as they shoot Ballister, who in turn cried in pain. It made ambrosius's heart ache. He begged them to stand down

ballister stands up and shows his weak point so the knights can kill him. Ambrosius yells out.

but before they can shoot Ballister and kill him, nimona rushes in to stop everything. She talks him out of killing himself and ballister turns back into a human again.

both hugged and cried in each other's arms, meanwhile ambrosius looks at them from a far. He wants to hug Ballister and apologize for everything that he had done to him but opted to stay at a distance because he doesn't want to disturb them.

ballister looks up though and he can tell that ambrosius really wants to apologize and make things right. Nimona notices this tension and goes to ambrosius to nudge him towards ballister.

he approached ballister before stopping in a few inches to leave some space between him and Ballister. He apologized to Ballister about everything. Ballister accepted the apology with a hug and kiss.

it was happy for moment when suddenly they all heard a loud noise and see that the cannon was being turned towards the kingdom by the director herself because everyone doesn't wanna hurt Ballister anymore.

panic sets in and ambrosius tells everyone to evacuate in hopes that they might make it in time.

Ballister knows other wise. He's made up his mind and plans to save the people by sacrificing himself.

he hugs nimona and kisses ambrosius before sprinting away. Both nimona and ambrosius realizes what he is trying to do but were to late to stop him.

Ballister turns into a phoenix and destroys the cannon before it could hit the kingdom.

nimona and ambrosius hoped and prayed that Ballister would come back, but as the lights starts to fade nimona hugged ambrosius who, in turn, hugs her back. Both mourning over what happened.

time skip, nimona gets adopted by ambrosius and everyone sees Ballister as a hero and honored him.

nimona goes back to the lair where she first met Ballister. She goes inside looking around her, reminiscing of the things they did together there.

she smiled as she picked up one of the characters in the board game they played before.

she held the piece close, then-

"hey kid."

"HOLY SH-"

she called ambrosius afterwards and they all hugged each other.

That's all I have. Might change or add some stuff in the future, but for now have this. Feel free to make fanfics of this.

Actually please make a fanfic of this, I am bad at writing.

Next au is prince Ballister.

[allwaswell16]

A fic rec of One Direction fics where one of the characters is very protective over another character as requested in these two asks. You can find my other fic recs here. Please leave kudos and comments for the writers! Happy reading!

- Louis/Harry -

⚔️ This Multiplicity of Powers by HelloAmHere / @helloamhere

(E, 149k, X-Men au) Maybe there’s a universe where he doesn’t have to keep all his secrets on the inside. But this isn’t that universe.

⚔️ forever is in your eyes by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed

(M, 125k, supernatural elements) He wants love. He wants to be held and cherished and have a home. Not just a place to lay his head down at night. He wants to be loved the way that Louis had loved creating Harry. He wants his perfect man, but he wants him to be real. He wants Harry to be real-

⚔️ cut your teeth on my heart by @turnyourankle

(E, 94k, bodyguard Louis) Harry has spent years trying to distance himself from the pressure of the Twist name and legacy. But it's going to be hard to avoid when his mum hires him a bodyguard.

⚔️ And down the long and silent street by whimsicule

(M, 86k, historical) Wherein Louis and Harry are on the opposite ends of the social ladder, but their paths still cross on the filthy streets Louis calls his home. The odds are staked against them from the beginning, and even more when Louis' past finally catches up with him.

⚔️ What I Have With You (I don't want with anyone else) by @lululawrence

(NR, 73k, omegaverse) Louis is an asexual alpha, Harry is his aromantic alpha friend and possible roommate, and faking a relationship might be exactly what they need to get their families and friends off their backs.

⚔️ this charade (was never going to last) by @scrunchyharry

(E, 68k, spies) As if the whole ‘industrial spy’ business was not stressful enough, Harry found himself in a hatred-at-first-sight relationship with one of his new coworkers, Louis, a man intent on detesting Harry.

⚔️ your memory over me by @shimmeringevil

(E, 64k, exes) The worst heartbreak of Louis’ life walks right back into it when his parents invite their family friends on an all-expenses-paid trip for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Facing a past that he tried to bury long ago, Louis learns that some people have a way of sticking with you even when they’re gone.

⚔️ and i would search the night sky to find you by devilinmybrain / @thedevilinmybrain

(E, 56k, omegaverse) Harry Styles is a high class, well-bred Omega attending Bosworth Academy - a prestigious boarding school looking over the small town on Kinsey. When he attends a school trip into town though, he meets Louis Tomlinson - a blacksmith and mouthy Alpha who doesn't particularly care for the standards of high society nor for the people in it. 

⚔️ Close to Nowhere by @angelichl

(E, 34k, hate to love) Louis and Harry are psychics who kind of hate each other. They go to Tennessee to investigate a haunting.

⚔️ Until the Pearls Get Lost by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(M, 25k, omegaverse) Louis will spend the rest of his life in an institution unless Liam can find someone to take him in and care for him as he recovers. Most omegas with failed bonds are never the same again.

⚔️ Keep Me Closer by zanni_scaramouche / @zanniscaramouche

(T, 18k, omegaverse) Louis expects Harry to react poorly, maybe even file a formal complaint and that’s gonna suck ass but Louis won’t say shit cause he knows he deserves it, so he prepares an apology before Harry’s even turned around.

⚔️ Unraveled by @allwaswell16

(E, 18k, bodyguard) They had reason to believe that Prime Minister Louis Tomlinson might be in danger, and they’d like Harry to act as his personal protection.

⚔️ Meet Me On The Forest Floor by @taggiecb

(M, 15k, fallen angel) Louis is an angel, and one day he does something that causes him to fall from heaven, and into the arms of Harry Styles, forestry officer, who cares for him until Louis can get back on his feet again.

Your Touch Is The Only Thing I Feel by @2tiedships2

(M, 15k, omegaverse) the one where Louis refuses to settle for just any alpha despite intense touch deprivation. Fortunately Harry isn't just any alpha.

⚔️ Heart Eyes by Snowy38 / @snowy38

(E, 10k, blind Harry) Seventeen years old, friends since they were eight, and they’d never been pushed into the kissing cupboard together before.

⚔️ In Shining Armour of Trackie and Trainers by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

(T, 9k, famous/not famous) Online dating isn't exactly working for Harry. In fact, it couldn't really be going much worse. But then the door of the bar opens, and the pack of friends walking in parts and - that’s Louis Tomlinson. Louis fucking Tomlinson.

⚔️ I’d Walk Through Fire For You (Just Let Me Adore You) by Neondiamond / @neondiamond

(E, 8k, omegaverse) Firefighter Louis is having an uneventful shift at the station when a call comes in about a devastating fire in a nearby apartment complex. All of his worst nightmares become reality when he realises it’s where Harry, his best friend who he’s had a relentless crush on for years, lives, and that said best friend is stuck inside among the flames.

⚔️ Just Hold On by SilverStuff50 / @silverstuff50

(M, 3k, famous/not famous) “It’s just not safe. You’re surrounded by people grabbing and pulling at you.” He looks Louis up and down appraisingly. “And you’re so-“ he stops himself when Joni shoots him a warning look.

⚔️ I Hope You Choke (on those words) by Imogenlee / @imogenleewriter

(E, 2k, bodyguard) Never in his career had he seen a musician as reckless when it came to personal safety as Louis Tomlinson.

- Rare Pairs -

⚔️ your crimes are quiet, my love by lightswoodmagic / @lightwoodsmagic

(E, 97k, Zayn/Liam) A darker Miss Congeniality AU that follows Zayn and Liam, MI5 agents, partners since training and best friends, as they race to stop a serial killer. 

⚔️ Can You Feel Where the Wind Is by FallingLikeThis / @fallinglikethis

(M, 3k, Zayn/Liam) Liam still remembers the argument, still remembers the feelings of stubborn exasperation and eventual grudging acceptance, when his father had insisted that Liam needed a security detail while out doing his father’s bidding.

[x-press-it]

Devilish Desires - 1/8

Dangerous Temptations, Irresistible Touch 🎞️❤️‍🔥🌹⚔️🖤💻🖱️

Sub!Logan Howlett x Dom!OC (They/Them)

Summary: Logan, typically guarded and dominant, finds himself captivated by E, a mysterious being with a devilish allure and ancient presence that challenges his control.

Context: This story unfolds 'within' the "Days of Future Past" new timeline, during Logan's early years as a history teacher at Xavier’s School. It’s set well before his consciousness from the original timeline reconnects with him in 2023, as seen at the film’s end.

Content Warnings (for the whole story): Smut 18+ (Dry humping, Edging, Unprotected p in v.) - Dom!Logan into Sub!Logan - Pet Names (Good boy, pretty boy, pet, pup, amongst others…) reversed age gap (Logan is younger) - OC Notes: Established name, backstory, powers, fighting style, female body but gender fluid character (Logan misgender them at first because he doesn’t know, even in the descriptions) - Mention of other character from the MCU and subtle references to the comics for flavor (not mandatory to understand what is happening) - Flash back and mention of past trauma - Very quick mentions of drugs - Fluff with Dark Undertones: Emotional tension and possessive affection - Worship Themes: Religious imagery, reverent language and awe - Ancient Mysticism: References to otherworldly or demonic presence - Mental Health: Power dynamics, personal vulnerabilities - Trope: Rivals to lovers.

I'm back after 10 years of iatus and fairly new to how things are done on tumblr now, so sorry if I missed any warnings. Also english isn't my first language so there might be typos/weird sentences...

Notes: Got very inspired by @gothgoblinbabe writing of sub!Logan and repeated listening of "Between wind and water" by Hael. Cover made with canva from an idea I got from this post. If you know who made the picture, tell me so I can credit them - Click on the divider to find the creator.

Also this was meant to be an imagine turned into a full story. Just so you know, some chapters are very short, other are long. I'm in the process of editing/writing/rewriting parts so I'll post a chapter everytime I have one fully edited.

Need some music? I've got you

Chapters: 1/8

Word Count: 1.8K / 60K+ for now

The soft click of the office door broke the silence in the hallway. They stepped out, adjusting their suit jacket, their posture elegant and composed, though a subtle tension lingered behind their calm exterior. Their long black wavy hair cascaded down their back, brushing against the fabric as they moved with an effortless grace. Those days, they felt more woman than anything else—their skin a rich, dark brown that gleamed under the soft lights—but it wasn’t always the case.

It had been a few weeks since they’d started working at the mansion, handling the Institute’s legal affairs. Most of the students gave them a wide berth, and the staff kept their distance—there was something about them that made people uneasy, even if they didn’t understand why.

Them on the other hand, they liked it that way.

As they stepped into the hall, their senses picked up something different. A low hum of energy—wild and untamed, charging the space around them. It tugged at their instincts, drawing their attention before they saw him. He turned the corner, boots heavy on the carpeted hardwood, an unshaven jaw covered in scruff, and a bag slung over his shoulder like he’d just walked out of a warzone. Broad shoulders, rough hands, and that look of a man who didn’t take orders from anyone. Not even Charles, from the way he stormed down the hall, barely noticing anything else in his path. His clothes were dusted with travel and grit, and that sharp, brooding look in his eyes didn’t soften even when they landed on them. He was raw power wrapped in flesh, every muscle taut, every movement deliberate.

Logan Howlett.

They’d heard the name whispered by the students, seen it on paperwork, but this was the first time they’d laid eyes on him. And the sight of him made their mouth water.

Logan had been gone for weeks—tracking down some personal leads, putting down problems before they grew too big. He had just parked his bike in the garage when he caught a scent that wasn’t part of the usual mix around the mansion. New. Feminine, with a dangerous edge to it—like spice wrapped in smoke, rich and heady, making his senses bristle. Whoever this was, she wasn’t some harmless new schoolteacher.

He rolled his shoulders, tightening the strap of his bag as he headed down the familiar hallways. The kids were nowhere to be seen, probably off in some class, and that suited him just fine. His boots made a steady, heavy sound on the floor, his mind set on dropping off his report with Chuck and catching a few hours of shut-eye.

He rounded the corner and froze, catching sight of her.

She was walking out of Charles' office, high heels clicking in rhythm with each step, her silhouette sharp and commanding. But there was something else—a flicker of something above her hairline, two subtle obsidian bumps that disappeared under her carefully styled wavy hair.

Horns?

His eyes trailed lower without permission. The plum of her lips, the curves of her breasts and the sway of her hips pulled at something primal in him, something he thought he had under control. There was power in her stride, something that made his instincts fire up in ways he hadn’t expected. Damn. He’d seen plenty of women in his time, but none with this kind of presence. The way her clothes hugged her body, her confidence… it wasn’t just a walk—it was a challenge. Logan’s gaze lingered a little too long, his nostrils flaring slightly at that scent again, his eyes trailed down once more, uncontrollably drawn to the curve of her hips.

Hell, he’d been gone for a few weeks, and he came back to this?

For a moment, neither of them moved. The air between them felt charged, a crackling tension that made their skin prickle. His eyes swept over them—sharp, assessing, like he was reading them just as much as they were reading him. The way he looked at them was different from what they were used to. Not with the hesitant caution most men wore in their presence, but something else—something hungrier, more primal. Something that resonated with the darker parts of themselves they tried to keep buried.

They shifted, folding their arms across their chest as his gaze lingered a little too long.

The way his nostrils flared slightly, his eyes flicking from their face to the faintest hint of their horns beneath their hair. Not that it mattered. He was focused on something else, too—the curve of their hips, the allure of their heels against the polished floor. They didn’t need to look to know he was watching.

They almost smiled. Almost.

Her scent got stronger as she started walking again, coming closer, sending a ripple through him that he quickly shook off. Whatever game she was playing, he wasn’t about to fall for it. He’d dealt with enough trouble in his lifetime to recognize it when it crossed his path.

But damn, those hips.

He grunted, pushing it all down as she passed by, brushing close enough that the faintest touch of a thin tail coming from under her pencil skirt grazed his leg so lightly he almost didn’t feel it. Almost. The scent grew stronger, messing with his focus, making him forget for a second that he had a report to deliver. He forced his eyes forward, giving his mind something else to chew on, his eyes on the door to Charles’ office, but he couldn’t shake the feel of her.

"Mr. Howlett," her voice was silk, controlled, the hint of a smile lingering at the edges of her lips, like she already knew everything about him. “Welcome back.”

He gave her a quick glance, a low grumble leaving his throat. “Who the hell are you?”

They saw the tension ripple through him as they passed. For all his tough exterior, Logan wasn’t immune to theirs. He wouldn’t admit it, of course, but it was there in the way he set his jaw, the brief flicker in his eyes as they greeted him. He’d noticed more than just their horns. The tail that skimmed his leg had been subtle, but they caught the way he stiffened.

A small victory.

His eyes were a storm—full of warning and curiosity, a predator assessing the situation. They liked that. Liked that he wasn’t some fool who would melt at their feet like so many others. Logan was… different. Stubborn. Dangerous.

But if he thought that would stop them from having their fun, he had no idea who he was dealing with.

When he spoke, asking who they were, his voice was gravelly—rough, like the scrape of metal on stone—and it made her horns itch with anticipation.

They turned fully, eyes locking with his, letting the question hang in the air for a heartbeat longer than necessary. A sly smile curled at the edge of their lips as they put their hand on their hip, her gaze not shying away from him in the slightest, piercing blue eyes steady.

“I’m E,” they finally said as if it was the most normal name in the world, feeling the weight of his stare. The air between them thickened and then their voice came again, smooth, steady. “The new lawyer.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed, suspicion darkening his features. He stepped closer, just enough that E could smell a faint metallic scent and the earthiness clinging to him. A wild animal, barely restrained.

“Lawyer, huh?” He grunted, but his gaze didn’t waver from theirs, as if he were trying to dig deeper, to get past the surface. “Ain’t seen a lawyer look like you before.”

E’s smile widened, something dangerous glittering behind their cool expression. “And I haven’t met a man quite like you, either, Mr Howlett,” they shot back, their voice smooth, teasing at the edges of something darker, something far older than this hallway or the mansion, or even him.

Logan’s lips twitched, a flicker of amusement passing over his face, though his eyes stayed sharp. “Don’t trust lawyers.”

A smug smile tugged at their lips.

“I’d be disappointed if you did.”

He let out a low, rough chuckle, shaking his head as if dismissing them. But they could feel the tension coiling in him, that primal urge battling with the cool control he tried to maintain. He brushed past them, closer than necessary, the tips of his fingers ghosting near their side. E’s skin tingled at the proximity, their body reacting even though their face remained neutral.

He paused, turning just enough to glance over his shoulder, eyes catching theirs again.

“Don’t care who you are,” he growled softly, a challenge hidden beneath his words. “Long as you stay outta my way.”

Even as he was walking away, they could feel the way his presence lingered in the air, heavy, magnetic. For all the danger that clung to him like a second skin, Logan was… intriguing. His scent still hung around them, earth and steel. But it wasn’t just his physicality that had their pulse racing—no, it was something deeper. Older.

Something that felt almost familiar.

Trouble.

He was going to be trouble, and they knew it.

But then again, trouble had always been their specialty.

Their fingers tapped against their hip as they considered his retreating figure, their thoughts swirling like dark, smoky tendrils. Logan probably thought he was unreadable, a closed book no one could crack. But they’d read men like him before—hungry, guarded, full of secrets they refused to admit, even to themselves.

Still, there was something different there. He wasn’t just another man to be toyed with. No, this one… this one might bite back.

They straightened their jacket again, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as they watched him stop in front of Charles’ office. The muscles in his back flexed under his worn leather jacket as he pushed the door open, and E couldn’t help but smirk.

Yes, Logan was going to be fun.

The door clicked shut behind him, but the scent of her still clung to his senses. He let out a low growl, shaking his head as if trying to clear his mind. What the hell was it about her? That scent, those eyes, those hips… she stirred something in him he didn’t like.

The primal part of him was curious—drawn in by the challenge, by the aura she carried. E. Didn’t matter what the hell she called herself. Something ancient lurked beneath that smooth exterior, something that made his instincts roar to life, like he was staring down a predator disguised as prey.

His claws itched beneath his skin, and not in the usual way.

He grunted, shifting his bag on his shoulder, trying to focus on the task at hand. But hell if his mind wasn’t already circling back to the sway of her hips, the way her voice slithered into his ears like smoke. He wasn’t some lovesick idiot, and yet…

He shook it off.

Trouble. That’s what she was. And he’d be damned if he let himself get dragged into whatever game she was playing.

To be continued...

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[drdemonprince]

my thoughts and values align with yours re: STIs and risk AND i keep coming up against resistance to the recent discussions as a high-risk person still living almost entirely isolated amidst the ongoing pandemic. and when i take a second to breathe and think, i realize these are not conflicting at all. the friction isn't that i view illness morally or that i think we should avoid all risk. it's that the majority of folks without question take precautions to reduce STI exposure but the majority of people no longer consider doing the so minorly inconvenient precautions to reduce the spread of covid, which i would argue is much riskier than STIs at this point. and it's so exhausting because then i have to, based on my risk analysis of covid, take way more precautions because no one else is looking out for me. community care and harm reduction are my biggest driving values and i grieve how absent they are around me. i just wanted to share in case others are feeling similarly while reading this discussion. you rock and i so hope i get to engage in a beautiful public kinky scene some day.

Hey, thanks so much for sharing and walking us through your thought process.

What I might add is that individual people might not seemingly put much effort into COVID mitigation anymore because they have next to zero institutional support in doing so. Many of my disabled friends have to work in areas with a high risk of COVID exposure: waiting tables, stocking grocery store shelves, working as home health aids or phlebotomists, or teaching in schools. Some of them are high risk themselves, but because they have no choice but to work in areas where their life is put on the line, they have very high stress decompression needs and feel already resigned to their disposability in society, and so they do also go out to bars with their friends or hold parties or visit clubs.

I also know people who are able to socially distance quite strictly, test regularly, are vaccinated and boosted, but who intentionally make plans to visit cruising spaces or gay orgies very rarely so that they can remain relatively safe COVID wise but also not kill themselves out of despair (I'm not being hyperbolic here, that's exactly what some people have told me are the competing risks they face when they balance COVID exposure against isolation. And I know that many high risk populations face these same severe negative mental health outcomes too -- in fact, I know high risk people who choose to go out in public at times in order to remain sane, but who have to sit with the fact that it could be a mortal danger to do so).

I also think about how the queer community came together in the fight against AIDS to make condoms available, to educate one another about safer sex practices or harm reductionist practices, to engage in sex together in risk mitigating ways (such as gloved fisting) and how they pushed for the government to make drug treatment available to them. I see a lot of queer and disabled advocacy groups doing similar work today to spread accurate data on COVID as best they can, promote masking, organize solely outdoor events, encourage vaccination, and remind people of the stakes.

And I see such a massive gap between the ways in which risk mitigation was made possible through such community efforts, and how catastrophically the government fails us regarding COVID. We are not given free tests anymore. Vaccines aren't free anymore either. It is no longer a state of emergency. Many of us have been forced back into in-person work at our jobs. Our unemployment benefits have been cut. Student loan payments are roaring back into action. Disability benefits and medicare's expansion is rolling back. We no longer have accurate testing and tracing data. Masks are no longer required.

If a person wants to behave responsibly regarding COVID, how are they even supposed to? They can wear a mask in public and not experience in-person community to the extend they might like or need. But they can't actually prevent themselves from getting or spreading the virus because they've been forced back to work. I understand many people do not even take these small steps to reduce harm and that it is dismaying and outrageous. And I think you have ever right to feel outraged by it. But I also think individual behavior flows from social support and institutional pressure, and nearly all of that is heading in the wrong direction right now.

And I think about how collective the push for better government interventions regarding AIDS was, and how much the push regarding COVID instead is focused on targeting individual people for the actions they've made within a very unsupportive context. It was not beneficial to view individuals who had bareback sex or shot heroin as the origin of HIV, and I don't think it's helpful to understand COVID as a phenomenon of individuals failing to mask now.

Granted, it took HIV activism YEARS to get to the point of ACT UP. And we're not so many years deep into COVID yet comparatively. Personally when I look at all these facts in context I see a population that largely did take COVID seriously for a time, but who, due to a mix of institutional failure, mass misinformation, risk resignation, and despair, no longer do so in their behavior.

I don't believe in moralizing emotions and I think from your perspective you're affected by all these factors PLUS the massive risk of developing Long Covid symptoms or worse. And I know you know and live all this shit already so forgive me for preaching to the choir. But I do want to gently push back against the idea that most people don't care about COVID the way they care about STI's. I believe our discourse on both has been horrifically poisoned by individualism, capitalism, and institutional failure.

Some articles I have written on the subject:

[dearestones]

Driving Under the Infl-Yuu-Ence (Jade Leech and Yuu)

Warnings: N/A. 

@lottieinlimbo Request: hi Devin!! Hope you’re having a good day today!! For request, I’m thinkin prompt 72 from the list “Make me believe it” with Jade Leech, maybe somethin platonic? Lookin forward to what you cook up, I know it’ll be amazing!! :D

.

.

.

It's not often that Jade finds himself surprised, much less taken aback and rendered speechless. For a moment, he has to take a step back (not literally, even though instincts demand that he create distance between himself and a somewhat dangerous situation) and reassess. It's another few seconds of contemplation before he curls his fingers underneath his chin before regarding Yuu with a curious, but wary gaze.

"Pardon me, Yuu, I don't believe that I heard you correctly. You wanted to... What exactly?" While eloquence was often the weapon that his dear business associate Azul would use, Jade is just as skilled. However, in this situation that made the phantom limbs of his tails and fins quiver in apprehension, he faltered in his manner of speech. 

Although his face remained impassive, he cringed inwardly. To speak so carelessly! And what's worse, with vulnerability!

Thank goodness neither his brother nor his business associate were here to witness such... a weak performance from him. Blackmail was worth its weight in madol and blackmail concerning Jade nearly tripled that.

Yuu, to their credit, didn't seem to notice. If they did, they wisely chose not to comment. Instead, they nodded in the direction of their car, an older model that ran on a mixture of electricity and magic. While Yuu had no magic of their own, they were roommates with a few mages who were more than eager to power up the vehicle with their reserves so long as they could use the car from time to time.

It had been years since Jade and Yuu had graduated from Night Raven College, but it seemed that the acquaintanceship that had blossomed during their time in the institution had gradually blossomed into a tentative friendship. This relationship, however, while in full bloom, did not last long once he had graduated. The rift was not because of ill will or malcontent, but rather, it was because it was life getting in the way of connection. While Yuu was busy with their internship, Jade returned to the sea. Over the course of a couple months, the both of them barely spoke to each other, if at all. 

Upon his return to his birthplace, Jade had taken over his father’s business alongside his brother. Although he had long since resigned himself to committing to his family's operations under the sea while his brother expanded on land, he still visited the surface from time to time. It was rare, but each time he breached the surface, it always felt like an occasion worth celebrating. 

So, with Jade walking upon land very rarely, it was quite a shock to his heart to find Yuu once again. 

Was it a stroke of luck?

Destiny?

Azul would have laughed at that notion, but Jade was a bit more easy to sway.

What else could it have been other than some otherworldly force? Unless it was a coincidence: the universe’s attempt at a joke. Whatever the case, Jade stopped in his tracks when he saw the former Ramshackle Prefect again after he had left Floyd behind at a club, the sounds of synth beats and drunken laughter reverberating in the air.

As always, they were small and slight—but Jade supposed that anyone would have looked small and slight compared to him. What he found most shocking however, was that they looked rather well. Back in Night Raven College, it was no surprise due to their background that they were always wearing clothing that was ill fitting and were usually stressed with heavy bags under their eyes. They also seemed to move as if their mind was miles away… What was that phrase again? Head in the clouds? Daydreaming, some would say. Homesick, maybe.

Tonight, however, they were dressed in casual clothing. While not designer, they were not ragged or threadbare. They were also bereft of the logo for NRC. In fact, Jade didn't have to wonder if Yuu had bought the garments themself. The clothing suited them well and made them shine despite the darkness of night.

Normally, Jade would have left them to their own devices. After all, it had been almost... He wanted to say five years since they last spoke but it may have been longer considering that they were never too close in the first place. Really, the Ramshackle Prefect spoke more with Floyd and Azul and that was usually because of the former’s propensity for seeking out entertainment and the latter’s attempts to get Mostro Lounge full staffed. 

It would have been easy to just leave. Walk away. 

However, while not as big a partier as Floyd, Jade had a few drinks in his system and was feeling the effects of hastily prepared liquor still warming his system. 

Land dwellers were so interesting, if a bit masochistic at times.

Jade had to take transformation potions just so that he could properly blend in with the rest of the surface population. Land dwellers intentionally poisoned their bodies with drinks that were more fire than liquid. At least when merfolk decided to poison themselves, they didn’t try to disguise it with ornate glasses and delicate garnishes. 

So, with steps that were reminiscent of his gait during his first few months in Night Raven College, Jade ambled towards the former Ramshackle Prefect to… Well, he wasn’t sure what he was going to do, only that he knew that where the Prefect went, entertainment was sure to follow. Years may have passed, but he had a feeling that even if they were to never see each other again come morning, he would still have a fun night at the very least. 

And so, Jade walked up to them as they leaned against the side of their car, their phone in hand and a questioning look in their eyes. His eyes weren’t as keen as most land dwellers, but he could practically taste the apprehension in the air, of the fear that he often associated with those who couldn’t pay back his family’s benevolence. However, the scent of fear was dialed back significantly, when he was close enough to see the whites of the former Prefect’s eyes. Alongside recognition, there was confusion, but also a hint of relief. 

Imagine that, he couldn’t help but chuckle softly to himself. It wasn’t often that others would regard him with relief upon recognizing him, but the Prefect had always been a curious oddity.

“Good evening, Prefect,” he greeted cordially. To his utter delight, he realized that while he may not be as mindful of his physical capabilities, his speech was still fluent and coherent. As long as he remained standing and didn’t act out of the ordinary, his companion would be none the wiser. “It’s been… How long? Five years?”

The small human looked up at him with a slight smile on their face. “Just Yuu,” they reminded him. “It’s been years since I graduated and it’s not like I need reminders of that place.”  

Odd, was that bitterness? How fascinating. While most would agree that their experiences at their alma maters may not lead to a positive remembrance, Jade thought they would have been more fond of the institution. Yes, there were Overblots, but they were rather comfortable with making friends from all the dorms with special mention to Heartslabyul. Had Jade misjudged? Or had the years finally made the Pref—apologies, Yuu—cynical?

Or, more appropriately, jaded? 

“Something funny, Jade?” 

Oh my, how inconsiderate of him. He must have drank a milliliter too much if he was already making mistakes this early in the conversation. 

As if taken back to his years at Night Raven College, Jade bent slightly at the waist, the angle just a bit more pronounced. Throughout his bow, he watched as Yuu regarded him with amusement. 

It had been years, but it was somewhat surreal to see Yuu appear so confident and self-assured. No longer were they the sort of person who kowtowed to those stronger than them and appeared too tired to question the whims of others. Even now, Jade was somewhat surprised that they still chose to help their fellow first year friends get rid of the anemones even though they would benefit very little from the negotiation while also risking losing their housing. 

Had Yuu learned from this experience? 

Or was it from the combination of harrowing experiences that Night Raven College had seen fit to throw at them despite their having no magic?

It made Jade want to explore further. To push them to know who they really were underneath their newly bought clothes and fresh skin. 

But that would be an adventure for tomorrow’s Jade should he still harbor the same curiosity that consumed tonight’s Jade entire being. 

Tonight, this Jade merely wanted to pass the time. 

“Apologies, tonight has been… an experience that I have not had the opportunity to pursue too often under the sea.” He smiled, his mouth gaping just a hair bigger than he normally afforded to acquaintances. Pride filled him when he saw that the former Prefect neither shied away or stared at him in disgust. Really, he must be losing his touch or perhaps Yuu was too adjusted to be scared of him anymore. 

Should he change that?

Yuu canted their head to their right, their brows furrowing in concern and nose scrunching a little before they gasped in shock—or was it delight?—and regarded him with a new light. 

“Are you drunk?”

Without missing a beat, Jade answered, “Are you suggesting that I cannot laugh at an inside joke without being accused of being intoxicated?” 

He pressed a hand over his heart and inclined his head in mock melancholy. To add a dash of drama, he sniffed faintly and looked askance as if he could not bear to look his companion in the eye. This sort of performance would have rewarded him with a punch to the shoulder if it were Floyd or an annoyed scoff from Azul. From Yuu, he merely saw them look at him with an expression so deadpan, he feared that their face would freeze that way. 

“Truly, we reunite after years of separation and that’s how you treat me? Never before have I felt so wounded!”

He sniffled and mimed wiping away an artful trail of tears down his cheek. 

Was it a performance that would have awarded him the same laud as one VIl Schoenheit? Obviously not, but he would like to think that he was a good contender for a starring role in community theatre. 

Yuu rolled their eyes, but laughed all the same. 

As if on cue, Jade relaxed from his stance, his shoulders no longer as straight or rigid as he normally would have made them on land. In water, he was free to lounge and allow his body to twist and writhe whatever way he wanted to. Most merfolk were lax when it came to posturing and stances; deference was either owed to royalty or to the biological, inherent pecking order that everyone, prey and predator included, knew. On land, though, Jade had been taught that appearances were everything. Floyd had discarded that notion (unless clothing and accessories were involved), often playing up his more extraverted mannerisms to achieve the same effect as Jade, but Jade had decided to play along with land dweller customs. 

It was tiresome, but it gave him something to do. 

After all, if one were to be used to routine, it became all the more entertaining when Jade decided to switch it up. 

He was slouching now—was it due to the alcohol? he would have to do some more research on the matter later—but he was careful not to appear too out of character. It would be funny to see Yuu second guess themself and question if the eel mer they were talking to was actually Floyd, but Jade wasn’t interested in that. 

Yet. 

He could play that card later if he got bored. 

“Geeze,” Yuu breathed out as they leaned against their car door. “You never change, do you? Last I heard, you were building up your family’s business, right?”

Jade grinned. Wider now. Perhaps more ominous underneath the low lighting. “Correct. My father left my brother and I equal shares, but the both of us can be greedy so we decided to expand.” 

“That’s great to hear! I’m still in school at the moment.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I’m not good at much, but apparently Beast Taming is sort of my calling?” They shrugged as if the utter idea was still ludicrous after years of tending to their overly ambitious cat beast. “Grim’s not here, but he and I are partners and are planning on hosting classes at some of the lower level magical colleges in Pyroxene. It’s not a popular subject considering that most mages don’t have familiars anymore, but we’re hoping to revive the art.”

“So you’re planning on becoming a professor then?”

Their responding smile was shy, but there was a hint of pride there. Maybe even a little bit of embarrassment for confessing something so vulnerable in their mannerisms. “Hahaha, yeah. It’s a good thing Ace and Deuce aren’t here. They’d probably give me flack for personally shoving a stick up my ass.”

Jade chuckled despite himself. “Come now, most of our professors weren’t that bad.”

“Oh, really?” They raised an eyebrow as if in challenge. “Remember that time Crewel made his entire batch of third years scrub out the cauldrons because someone contaminated the supply of beetroot with their personal experiments?”

Ah! Jade had pleasantly vague memories of that debacle… “I shudder to think of the day I would ever forget that incident.” A dramatic pause. “It was actually my potionology project for my thesis that contaminated the rest of those semester’s assignments.”

Yuu’s eyes widened. “Holy shit. How are you still alive?”

Jade shrugged before placing a finger against his lips. “Unlike some of our much rowdier contemporaries, I never got caught. It was an unfortunate event that everyone was punished, but… Collateral damage is something that I’ve come to expect, especially in my line of work.”

He may not have been watching Yuu directly when he murmured that last part, but he knew that their wide eyes were filled with apprehension at what he implied. How entrancing. How much did they know about his family’s business? And how much would they be willing to find out?

And then—

Laughter. Pure, childlike, unadulterated laughter. 

“Pffttt, hahahaha!” The small human was practically doubled over in laughter, their entire body leaning against the body of their car as if they would fall without its support. Knowing how fragile some humans were, Jade wasn’t too surprised at the sight. What caused him to do a double take was the teasing glint in their eyes and the utter joy that they regarded him with. 

It wasn’t every day that someone would look up to him like that.

It was a pity that his mental faculties were compromised. He would have liked to remember this moment for some time. To dissect. Or to ponder whenever he would think about the intricacies and mysteries upon the surface. 

“And may I ask what strikes you as funny?”

Yuu didn’t answer. Instead, they waved him off as they chuckled, but eventually straightened from their doubled over posture. 

“I just… When I saw you skulking out of the shadows, I thought I was about to get jumped! And now? This?” They waved their hands about in an aimless, purpless direction. As if actions alone could properly convey their confusion at the situation. “Talk about tonal whiplash, Jade. You’re a horror movie waiting to happen, but instead, I get something straight out of a… out of a…” The former Prefect frowned to themself before adding in a hushed, but near mortified tone of voice, “Like a comedy? Maybe?”

Jade stifled a laugh, his posture rounding itself out as he tried to keep himself from bowling over in mirth. “I’ve never considered myself a stand up comic, but who knows? Maybe I might pursue that endeavor in the future if my current career path does not pan out.”

The both of them shared a laugh for a few more moments, but eventually, the Prefect straightened up from leaning against their car. A quick glance at their phone must have alerted them to something if their little gasp of shock was anything to go by.

Even though Jade was still smiling placidly, he couldn't help but feel his brows furrow in disappointment. He was slowly sobering and it seemed now that he was in better charge of his mental faculties, he was finally getting the entertainment he so desperately craved. Parties were fun and all—especially if all Jade had to do to get information was to smile prettily and say the right words—but they were tiring and the company usually devolved in likability as the night wore on.

"Leaving already?"

Yuu shrugged before sending him a considering glance. "How about you? Got somewhere you need to be?"

"Not necessarily, but I wouldn't mind heading back to my quarters sooner rather than later."

Jade laughed at Yuu’s confused look at his strange choice of words. 

"My hotel room," he amended. "I don't have permanent residence on land so when I come up for business matters, I tend to stay in other establishments."

"Why not stay with Floyd?"

Jade hummed. "He can be territorial at times and I also have my own needs. Besides, money is no object for either of us."

Yuu scoffed at that admission, their eyes glancing at Jade's clothing. As always, well dressed even if it was for something that didn't require high end fashion. "You don't say."

"I don't. I simply wear what I'm worth."

Eventually, Jade gave Yuu the address to a hotel on the outskirts of the city. The hotel itself was actually high end and was considered more of a resort rather than a simple hotel. Located near the white sandy beaches upon which it was located, the guests would be able to enjoy the view of the seaside and the horizon meeting each other in a holy matrimony of beauty and natural phenomena.

Surprisingly, the recommendation came from Floyd, but Jade supposed that he shouldn't be too surprised. Despite Floyd's love of chaos, his tastes upon land bordered on extravagance.

The multitude of closets he had just for his accessories and shoes...

Yuu, to their credit, didn't bat an eye at Jade's address for the hotel. Instead, they nodded and loaded up the address onto their phone's GPS and began backing out of their parking space and out onto the main road.

As Yuu began a steady pace towards their destination, Jade fiddled with his seatbelt, feeling mildly restrained—almost as if he were suffocating. After all of these years, there were still many aspects of land dwelling culture that he had not become accustomed to yet. Clothing had been a challenge, especially in his first few months masquerading as a human, but transportation? Seatbelts were a nuisance—how did land dwellers deal with being smashed against the seats like this?

Furthermore, Jade didn't feel particularly safe; rather, it felt as if the surface liked to discover ways to give themselves a harder time to live their lives and/or seek death faster.

The enclosed space in the car was fine—Jade lived and grew up in enclosed spaces when learning how to ambush prey—but the windshield and the windows didn't provide the cover that he preferred. At the very least, the car that Yuu was driving had tinted windows, but instinct had Jade being hypervigilant, always expecting danger.

"Feel free to change the music station." Yuu offered as they used their turn signal, the sound of which provided a steady, mechanical drumbeat against the backdrop of a crooning voice. "I don't have a preference."

It took a second for Jade's eyes to adjust to the darkness in the car, but he eventually found the knob that would change stations. At this time of night and this far out of the main city, most stations were either late night talk shows with a few channels playing pop songs that Jade wasn't too fond of or the occasional radio silence. After going through a multitude of channels, Jade finally gave up and tuned into a station that played songs from decades past.

"Didn't take you for a disco kind of guy."

"I'm not." Jade returned to running his fingers up and down against the fabric of the seatbelt. For something that restrained him, the strange texture of it was oddly soothing against his finger pads. "It seems that my tastes will not be catered to tonight. A shame, but land dweller music has never ranked high on what I prefer to listen to."

Or maybe it was because Jade hadn't exposed himself to land dweller music all that often. Even when he had been a full time student at Night Raven College, he preferred to study or hike in silence as opposed to grabbing a pair of headphones and checking out the latest trends in pop or what have you. It was Floyd who loved the synthesized instruments in pop music, the erratic thrum of rock and metal, and how innovative the surface dwelling folk could be when cobbling together a passable tune. 

That was part of the reason why Jade could not stand to stay at the club any longer than he had to. The alcohol eased his frustrations somewhat, but he could attest that for the majority of merfolk, their preferences and standards for what passed as music and musical was leagues above what the surface dwellers could ever hope to replicate.

"Hmm? What sort of music do you listen to then?"

Jade cast a glance at his companion, waited until they gave him a questioning glance, before answering with, "Whalesong."

It was a good thing that the road they were on was mostly bereft of other travelers because for a few crucial instants, Yuu nearly lost control of their driving. Their shock was gratifying and it soothed the primal instinct in Jade that wanted to rip himself out of his self-imposed bindings, but both their lives could be in danger had the road been bustling with traffic.

"W-whalesong!? Like whales go into recording studios and like? Make music?"

Jade didn't even try disguising his laugh this time. 

Was this the same Prefect who went to Night Raven College around the same time as him? Yes, he remembered that there was a spark in them, a fire that Jade had yearned to see stamped out from time to time, but he never got around to committing to those thoughts, especially when the winter holidays had come immediately after the end of term exams. And then the Overblots. The arrival of summer. And so on and so on.

Had he known that they were this interesting... 

Ah, he supposed that maybe he should convince Yuu to stay in touch with him. Perhaps he was still suffering the lingering effects of the alcohol and was thus was feeling more impulsive than usual, but this interaction was interesting.

Yuu's questions were interesting.

Yuu's reactions were interesting.

Yuu was interesting.

"Whalesong," Jade repeated again. He turned to face the road again, watching how the path began to grow slightly narrower to accommodate the forested landscape. "Did you know that sound travels faster and clearer in water? You would have to have the same skeletal structure of merfolk to fully appreciate their tunes, but it's like a lullaby that haunts the ocean for miles. It reverberates through your body, reminding you that no matter how large or dangerous you are, there will always be something above you in the theoretical food chain. You may not realize it, but whales can be quite dangerous." 

He fell silent, eyes falling close.

There was no danger here—not unless Yuu lost control of their car.

"Not that I would know what it’s like to be put into my place on land, of course. Here, I rank quite high if I may say so."

"And humble too."

At that point, Yuu was turning into the hotel's private property. Up ahead, there was a guardhouse with one of its security personnel already waving them forward. At the security guard's insistence, Yuu surrendered their license with the guarantee that they would receive it once they left the premises. After confirming that Jade was a guest at the hotel, they were allowed to pass and go straight onto the grounds.

The hotel grounds were expansive, and again, Jade had to stifle a laugh when he heard Yuu mutter to themself about "rich people and their tastes". As Yuu drove through the veritable obstacle course that made up the grounds before the actual main building, Jade made idle commentary on the scenery they passed.

There were the tennis and basketball courts, a swimming pool for those who didn't want to brave the ocean (and for good reason, Jade was from there and the locals weren't always the nicest), and a few other facilities the rich and famous would like to make use of. Eventually, they made their way to the parking lot, which was insisted upon by Jade. Before going to his room, he would like to take a walk to further clear his head and maybe, if he was feeling particularly adventurous, he might venture into the frigid depths of the ocean before sleeping.

He said as much to Yuu who parked the car at the furthest point from the main hotel building.

"You mean you weren't already feeling adventurous? I thought that you were at some elite club or something. Most people would be too tired to even think about swimming at this hour."

Smiling toothily at his companion, Jade admitted, "It was a rather dull affair. For someone like me, I much prefer something more... challenging." The liquor helped and didn't help at the same time.

"Whatever you say, Jade."

As Yuu pressed a button on their side to unlock the doors, they paused for a moment, as if a thought had come to them. Observant as he was, Jade knew that something was on their mind and was patient to stay a moment longer, his long fingers resting on the car door handle.

"Hmm... but is walking or swimming alone at night considered challenging?" There was mischief in their tone, an inside joke that only they were privy to at the moment. It piqued Jade's curiosity, but only slightly. "Why not... push past your boundaries?"

"What an idea," Jade murmured. "What are you proposing?"

Yuu tapped their fingers upon the steering wheel. "You know, I've never seen you drive a car before."

And just like that, Jade wrenched the door wide open and leaped out of the car as if he had caught on fire. It was only because he had years of practice as a courteous land dweller that he managed to remember to bid the small human goodbye.

"Apologies, I do believe that my bed is calling me at this hour. Goodnight and farewell, dear Yuu. I'll take my lea—"

"Nuh-uh." Yuu may not have been as fast as Jade, but they could certainly manipulate their limbs quicker than what he remembered. It seems that being pushed to their limits under Coach Vargas' tutelage did them some good in the long run. "I brought you to this place out of the goodness of my heart, which merits a reward."

Ah. They certainly have changed over the years, haven't they?

"A good deed that must be repaid isn't done out of the goodness of one's heart, Yuu."

"That's rich coming from you. If I recall, wasn’t that your modus operandi during our years at Night Raven?"

Jade smiled a thin sort of smile.

Would he be able to stomach running away from a human as small as Yuu? Or shall he suffer this farce for much longer?

"Perhaps."

"Hmmm.... So maybe it's not because you've suddenly turned over a new leaf, but I think it might be because you're afraid."

"Afraid?" Jade couldn't help but scoff, all sense of composure leaving him before he had to manually instruct himself to calm down. “I wouldn’t go as far as to say that… But I am… Rather alarmed.”

It took Jade a second too long to realize that it was a mistake to admit to his fear. 

“Are you saying that the stoic and calm Jade Leech is too unnerved—rattled, mayhap?—to even dare getting behind the wheel and—gasp!—actually learn how to drive?” Yuu swooned against their car, a pitiful invalid. 

Jade crossed his arms, making sure to force his body to sway gently so as to appear drunker than he felt. “Might I remind you that I’m not sober? It’s against the law to imbibe before driving.”

Yuu shot him a disbelieving glance. 

“...I see. The great and illustrious Jade Leech has fallen victim to Rosehearts Syndrome. A disease that has its roots in the pursuit of perfection, appeasing to a higher order that will never listen to you, immediate and absolute obedience to the rules and—”

“I am nothing like Riddle.”

“Oh, really?” Their eyes sparkled once more underneath the streetlight. “Prove it. Make me believe that Jade Leech still spits in the name of conventionality because he got too bored to pay his dues to polity.”

And Jade knew what tactic that Yuu was using at that very moment. It was the oldest trick in Jade’s book. This baiting was meant for day old fry who had not yet tried to chase after a worm on a hook. Yet… 

And yet… 

If they were caught, Jade could easily buy his way out of a jail cell and if he were feeling particularly generous, he’d even bail out this little shrimp who dared mouth at him like this. As if Jade hadn’t penned the rule book concerning mental subterfuge and psychological warfare and manipulation. 

Jade held out a hand. “The keys, if you will.”

Yuu grinned, an impish affair that only irritated Jade slightly. "The keys are already in the ignition, silly eel!"

This was going to be more troublesome than he thought it would be, wasn't it?

And it certainly was. For the next half hour or so, Jade had to learn how to navigate the many parts of the car. From the way he had to adjust the seat and the rearview mirror, how to place his hands upon the steering wheel, and realize that, yes, the stick in the middle of the driver and the passenger seats did indeed serve a purpose. For the most part, Yuu was actually a good teacher, if a bit mischievous at times. Despite his reservations, it seemed that Yuu had caught onto his concern and allowed him to test out the car's various capabilities without letting the car move from its parked space.

Slowly, Jade acquainted himself with the accelerator and how the machine rumbled underneath his feet, how he need only apply the slightest amount of pressure before the car answered in kind.

Eventually, though—

"I think you're ready."

"To go to sleep?"

And that's when Yuu released the handbrake and put the car into drive.

To say that the next half hour was a disaster was an... anticlimactic understatement.

Jade hit the accelerator and drove the car at the breakneck speed of... ten kilometers per hour. It was slow going, but eventually, Jade began to crawl his way to a much faster pace.

"Great, you're learning!" Jade dared not look away from the road lest he accidentally cause an accident that could blow up the entire resort. "Now that you can drive in a relatively straight line... let's start turning corners!"

Another obstacle that Jade would have loved to let Yuu handle, but it was rather unfortunate that he was stuck behind the wheel and beholden to the driving laws.

Again, it was rather anticlimactic, but with the way Jade felt his hands tremble every so often and that he had to consciously remind himself that he had to breathe, it was almost as if the world was collapsing upon him. As someone who was born and raised in the sea, it was a rather terrifying thought.

Still, though, jerky movements gradually transitioned into something more fluid and slightly resembling that of a seasoned driver's actions. Furthermore, he no longer had to rely so much on Yuu's encouragement and murmurs of adjustment that he rearrange his hands or to relax his posture. In fact, he began to feel like he was learning to walk all over again when he was in land boot camp. 

Before he knew it, he made a full circle around the parking lot while also obeying all the signs and markers on the road.

It was utterly slow and Jade wasn't very smooth when making the appropriate left turns, but he did manage to press down on the turn signals when necessary and he even stopped for a passing pedestrian! Success, although somewhat trivial to all other accomplishments that Jade had under his belt, still made him beam with pride. (Muted pride, though, he couldn't quite admit that he was happy that Yuu had convinced him to step outside of his boundaries).

When Jade slowly approached to a stop in front of the hotel doors (finally), Yuu gestured for him to put the car in park. "Feeling tired? I think you've improved enough that I'll let you go. For now."

He smiled.

Then the words and full extent of the meaning finally dawned on him. 

"For now?"

Yuu nodded, a gleeful smile on their face. "Well, how else can I refill my fuel gauge? With the amount of magic you've got pouring in, the tank refilled within minutes!"

Jade checked the dashboard.

Damn.

"What was that one term you land dwellers use when you dupe someone? Pull the wool over someone's eyes? Getting hustled?" Jade shook his head in faux disappointment. "And here I thought that you were a person of high standing."

"Hello, pot. Meet kettle. The both of you are black."

Jade wasn't sure what that saying meant, but he laughed nonetheless and resolved that he would have to look up what pots and kettles had to do with colors. 

“Good night, Yuu. Perhaps we can talk at a later date.

Yuu seemed unsure at first, which only made Jade concerned, but before he could assure them that he didn’t expect them to follow through, they nodded. 

“Sure thing, Jade.” A beat. “Maybe I’ll teach you how to drive donuts!”

Do... Donuts?

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If you want to donate a Ko-Fi, feel free https://ko-fi.com/devintrinidad.

TWISTED WONDERLAND MASTERLIST

[benicebefunny]

I have seen some posts arguing that the Love Hounds didn't work because 1) Nathan is somehow inferior to the other Diamond Dogs, or 2) West Ham is not a "safe space" like Richmond was when the Diamond Dogs were founded.

And to that I say:

The current roster of Diamond Dogs did not actually help Ted this episode. "Find out before you flip out" would be wonderful advice in certain situations. Like, maybe if someone is waiting to get the results back on an exam. But it wasn't the advice that ultimately helped Ted. Rebecca's advice is what got Ted back to his son, where he belongs. Nathan has been the only character to consistently press Ted on his distance from Henry. In S1, he asked Ted straight up, "If you miss your family so much, why are you [the exact distance between Richmond and Kansas] away from them?" In S2, he told Ted he belonged in Kansas with his son. (Something that mortally offended several fans who proceeded to tie themselves in knots explaining why Ted is a Wonderful Supportive Father despite leaving all of the actual caregiving up to Michelle.) It's possible that Nathan would have arrived at a conclusion similar to Rebecca's. We don't know. What we do know is that the Diamond Dogs were not actually helpful this episode - in Nathan's absence. Perhaps it's not within the realm of the absurd to assume that maybe Nathan is a vital element of the group he named.

At the time of the Diamond Dogs' founding, Richmond was not a safe space - emotionally or physically. Especially for Nathan. The previous episode started with Nathan being locked under a bus. It ended with Nathan--so drunk he couldn't walk--being carried who knows where by the guys who used to bully him. (Something which Beard saw and did nothing to stop, because it was not as serious as comparing someone to a painting.) In between all that, Nathan shares his worst fear with Beard and Ted (which they will later use in a totally normal, not at all a prank, way of informing Nathan of his promotion). Ted yells at Nathan, apologizes, then tells him to deliver a roast that in no way screams, "This is a safe space for our employees' feelings." And the next day, Nathan is found asleep under the bus, because he is afraid the team would leave without him. (Again, because this isn't a painting caliber incident, no one looks into what the hell happened to Nathan when he disappeared on a work trip, having last been seen insensible with drink in the arms of two guys who used to physically and verbally harass him on a daily basis.) This is Nathan's immediate context for the Diamond Dogs' founding. (To say nothing of the other characters, like Higgins, who are experiencing their own workplace issues at the time.) Whatever made the Diamond Dogs work, it was not a universal sense of safety and wellbeing.

I understand that fans are fond of the Diamond Dogs and that the Love Hounds was a flop. However, I think it's possible to talk about narrative parallels - between characters, between storylines, between scenes - without making one side Obviously Bad and the other side Unquestionably Good. I think we have unplumbed depths when it comes to nuance - particularly when discussing institutions (like the Diamond Dogs, like AFC Richmond) for which we bear some affection.

In the case of all-male--and now all white male--institutions like the Diamond Dogs, there is a danger in over-sentimentalizing. We cannot let our enthusiasm for White Men Talking about Feelings overshadow our critical capacities. If immunized against outside criticism, the Diamond Dogs could turn into the Love Hounds. And no one wants that--least of all Nathan.

[petefromarma]

ik just observing hanukkah does not a “good jew” make but your insistence that joe hates being jewish is just strange and off base to me… when i read his memoir i just saw a guy that had a lot of bad experiences with antisemitism and is discussing it because it’s a book about bad experiences. not once did i get the feeling that he hates being jewish or judaism. he’s talked positively about growing up and being jewish in places other than his book although it seems like that’s the only source you ever use??? which again is a book about his trauma so of course it skews negative…

anyways what you said about him saying they don’t do hanukkah in NOTR sounds familiar although for some reason i can’t find it for the life of me rn and i don’t remember the context which is probably important but other than that he brought a menorah out on tour in 2015 (posted a picture on ig with the caption “haven’t done this in awhile” or smth like that and pete also posted a picture and said joe taught him a prayer) and then in 2021 he mentioned it being the first night of hanukkah and that he’s giving presents to ruby & zayda on his podcast. obviously im not going to claim he observes it fully or even every year but like you said his observance or lack of is not really important, just thought i’d add context. he also said in another podcast that he & marie were considering sending zayda to JCC and that they have passover dinner. he even talks about all the jewish food he likes… he even says he likes gefilte fish and i think my rabbi would argue that makes him a great jew!!! (/j) he also said in an interview from 2007 that he thought about going back to synagogue which obviously is outdated but that isn’t giving “i hate being jewish!!!” imo.

anyways my point being he hasn’t completely distanced himself from judaism or even expressed hatred for it like you seem to so strongly believe? it actually bewilders me how you talk about joe and his jewishness and it just seems so unnecessarily negative and built upon your own (clearly biased) assumptions. i’m genuinely curious how you came to these conclusions originally and why

i think this would be a more productive conversation if you came off anon and we could have this discussion privately but i'm going to assume you're not going to do that because i don't think you sent this in good faith due to the accusation that i'm biased. so

i don't label people as 'good' or 'bad' jews; i'm not in the habit of championing zionist talking points. imo he struggles with internalized antisemitism. most of the posts i make about this are at least somewhat exaggerated. they're not completely serious. also, i reference his memoir because i've read it and i haven't listened to these podcasts you're talking about? i'm not particularly interested in doing so either so i'll assume what you're saying is accurate; if that's the case then i think it's a good thing that he's familiarizing his children with their culture

this may surprise you but i actually strongly believe that the road for reconnecting with one's jewishness should not be lead thru institutions bc they're often a gateway for zionist propaganda (this is, verbatim, what happened with gabe saporta and what has happened to more than a few people i've known irl); hope he's teaching his children about being jewish, can't say i hope he's getting them involved with JCC

the portion of the book i will always come back to wrt his internalized antisemitism is the very odd recounting of the interaction cathie had with a group of hasidic men. tbh i dislike organized orthodoxy in its current state about as much as joe does, and yeah, you gotta do your best to avoid the hasids around the holidays when you're walking home from the gym around 80th and broadway, whatever, but the conclusion joe draws from this, that he was in danger of being kidnapped, and that his mom should have known that but somehow didn't, is...weird? almost canard-y. like, no, dude, the hasids with the light up magen david weren't gonna kidnap you. this and him referring to his wife as a shiksa colored my expectations for the rest of the book and it was difficult not to read his experiences with his mother and his jewishness through this lens. i do think he's proud of being jewish, in his own way, and that there are times in the book when he shows reverence specifically for USamerican ashkenazi culture, but i also think he's largely been unable to separate this facet of his identity from his childhood trauma and his relationship with his mother. i feel as though it's easy to understand how this in conjunction with him raising his children culturally christian would lend to an interpretation of joe still dealing with some form of internalized antisemitism. now, if that last part isn't true, then that's my bad, but it isn't going to change my impression of that portion of the book

i could say more abt cathie and richard and joe's perception of them plus the manner in which misogyny toward jewish women manifests in secular-but-culturally-connected families but i kind of don't want to get into it. if you want to talk more about this you can send another anon but i'd prefer you just DM me

[spitblaze]

Cis Men run... every institution. Cis men are at the head of every government in the world, Cis Men created the system we all have to live in and made themselves the Societal default. It's kind of hard to feel sympathy for Men on anything other than an individual level when in a broad sense, Men are the reason for literally all of their own problems. Men are the ones who protest ANY form of progress, even if it would be beneficial to them, even when it means addressing and getting rid of things like Toxic Masculinity and allowing them to live in a freer, less rigidly definitive way. Men are the reason we literally all have to be scared all the fucking time just to stay safe. That's not TERF shit. That's literal centuries of oppression and the result of everyone who isn't a Cis Man having to learn very quickly how to keep themselves safe FROM Cis Men. Masculinity isn't the problem, Maleness is not inherently the problem, not all Men are inherently the problem. But in an abstract sense, assuming all Men are untrustworthy or potentially dangerous is the only way to keep yourself safe. I'm a Trans Woman. Yes, the TERF movement is primarily made up of Cis Women. But when I go outside the reason I try to make myself as unnoticed as possible, the reason I am afraid for my safety, the reason I don't present unless I have people around me, is because of what a Man could potentially do to me. Because of what Men HAVE done to me. And I'm not an outlier. It's all very well and good to say "viewing Men and Maleness as inherently bad is wrong" in the abstract? But in practical terms if I suddenly let my guard down I'm fucking dead.

Hi, I'm a trans man. I know exactly what you're talking about, I've been there during the time before my egg cracked, I've been there AFTER my egg cracked, and I'm not about to tell you you should innately trust every man or masculine person. Unfortunately, for a lot of people, it's the most surefire way to stay safe. I get it, I've had that moment where a man approaches me in a way where I'm positive I'm about to become a statistic, I've seen the kinds of grifts run by men to convince other men that the only way forward is domination and fascism, I've seen how many men see any sort of pushback on their privilege and place in the world and go berserk. 'Misandry' is a loaded word thanks to MRA shitheads, and it's not one I like to use. Cis men have historically not faced sex discrimination anywhere in the GALAXY of the magnitude of women.

The point I am making is not that you have to trust and love and tolerate every single man. I would be a goddamn hypocrite if I told you to do that, I don't even do that. What I'm saying is that there are a lot of people who, for whatever reason, see men as inherently inhuman, inherently incapable of love, inherently predatory. It's what fuels TERFs in their ideology, the idea that someone within spitting distance of masculinity has only one goal, and that is harm. There are people who look at men expressing their love for other men and mock them or react with disgust, not because of garden variety homophobia, but because they are men, and who could possibly love a man? You see people in queer spaces get uncomfortable when someone who doesn't shave their facial hair walks into the room, exclude trans men and nonbinary amab people on the basis of their proximity to manhood. I understand why it happens, but getting jumpy right off the bat in situations like this helps nobody. Designating women as the 'victim' gender and men as the 'predator' gender is reductive, and while I understand a lot of this behavior is an overcorrective (healthy) fear of strange men, the real fact is that, like...most men aren't dangerous. There are a lot who are, and I'm not asking you to lower your guard on the bus or whatever, just to realize that like. Someone being a man does not preclude them being inherently predatory or regressive, and someone being a woman does not preclude them being 'safe'. That's all.

[my-brothers-corrupted]

My Brothers, Corrupted

Book Five: Section Four

Jackie and Blue try to navigate Jameson being in the hospital, keeping doctors at a distance while also dealing with their own feelings about everything going on. Masterlist

Tws for discussion of hospitalization/institutionalization, mental illness, psychosis, domestic violence, and cult dynamics. Tws may not be completely exhaustive - keep in mind the heaviness of the fic and look out for yourself.

Thank you to @lehhoh7822 for taking the time to compile this book!

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Anonymous asked: Hey Jackie, when you get home and check the cameras, just know your family is perfectly safe. They went to a hospital and the others are just on a walk. No one is hurting or in danger! Well, no more than usual.

It’s a few hours later when one of the few cameras they have left comes flickering violently to life. Beneath his hood, Jackie’s face is dark, his blue eyes alight with tumult, and when the messages don’t load fast enough, he shakes the camera hard, a shout tearing out of his mouth. Blood smears across his cheek and his hands are red.

They’re perfectly safe. No one’s hurting or in danger. They’re perfectly safe.

Not enough!

Jackie shoves the camera into the pocket of his backpack and takes off back down the stairs at a sprint.

“Jackie? Jackie!”

Chase is home by now, crying at Jackie to calm down, but his brother isn’t listening. Nothing is enough. Jackie pushes Chase out of his way and goes racing out the door and into the rain.

nikkilbook asked: JACKIE. Talk to me. What’s in your head right now?

If Blue wasn’t there outside the door to the hospital room, Jackie probably would have burst right in without even thinking about it. He’s soaked with rain by the time he gets there, chest heaving from the run, but he doesn’t pause until Blue shoots to his feet and grabs him by the shoulders, shoving him back from the door.

“Red! Hey! Don’t go in there all worked up, just stop, just stop!”

Jackie grips his shoulders in return, shoving Blue back against the wall, but there’s no aggression in him. His eyes are wild and blank, his whole head consumed by one thought.

“Red, Ro, Jackie, talk to me,” pants Blue, as his twin squeezes him tighter and tighter. “What’s the matter, what’s - ”

“Give him back to me, don’t take him.”

“No one’s taking him.”

“Give him back. Give him back.”

“Jackie. Jackie. He’s right in there. No one is taking him.”

They’ll put him in a room and he’ll never see him again. Jackie will sit for months outside his room and never see him again. Dapper will be locked up for months and months and there will be nothing Jackie can do about it. They’ll put him in an institution. They’ll put him in prison. He’ll just be alone. There will be nothing Jackie can do about it.

Again, again, again!

“Jackie! Look at me, look at me! Whose blood is this? You’re freaking yourself out, just - ”

Jackie shoves him to the ground and pushes into the hospital room, pupils blown, eyes wild.

scunneredzombie asked: Most doctor offices have translation options for people who sign! Blue & JJ, when you get in there tell them JJ signs and they might have an interpreter they can call in for you, it would be very helpful.

There’s someone standing over his little brother.

There’s someone he doesn’t know standing over his little brother.

And that’s not right. That’s not how this goes. That’s not safe. There are cops and magicians and worse in the world, and Red, you don’t trust anyone unless I say you can trust them, and even then, you sleep with one eye open, do you understand?

Yes, Anti, I understand.

I’ll let you go out on your own if you’re good. And that means you keep your fucking mouth shut, got it?

Yes, Anti.

Why do you gotta keep your mouth shut?

Cause if anybody else finds out about this -

About little brothers locked in their room and murdered enemies, about glowing eyes and glitches in the air, about Anti, about any of them, about anything in the whole of his life -

Someone will come take my brothers away.

Right. And then you’ll really know what it feels like to fail as a protector, little hero.

He’s asleep in his bed. He’s tiny and white in his bed. He’s hooked up to machines and medication and he’s hollow as the bones of a bird, sitting there with a stranger hovering over him, sitting there with a prison guard -

“Ro!” Blue is screaming, grabbing him from behind. “Stop it, he’s just a nurse! A translator for him to talk! Don’t, Jackie, stop it!”

He’s standing over the stranger and Blue’s hands grabbing him are the only things stopping a blind terror from reacting in the form of fury. Jackie stands, shaking. There’s blood on him. His mouth is dry. Blue holds him back, wrapping his soothing arms around him, begging him to be calm. He licks his mouth, letting Blue drag him back to sit beside Dapper’s bed, guarding his little brother, teeth gritted in his mouth til it hurts his whole jaw.

“You’re good, we’re good,” chants Blue, rocking him. “It’s a nurse, he’s nice, everyone’s nice, Dapper’s feeling better, we’re good. A nurse who can talk to him in sign, and he lit up so fast when he saw that, you should have seen him, he calmed right down…”

Jackie coughs, shutting his eyes. He’s so tired. He just wants to find them a home and lock them all in for the rest of their lives, so no one ever touches them again.

Strangers will hurt us, Jackie.

Anti, I know.

It’s only then that Jackie becomes aware of a man in a white coat sitting in the corner, his legs crossed at the knee, taking meticulous notes while Jackie breaks down.

nikkilbook asked: I feel like I need to point out that yeah, Red would have stepped up to become the Enforcer/Abuser if Anti had died there. But you haven’t been Red in a very long time, Jackie. You’re the boy in the red hood, not the glitch, Jackieboy Man.

He still just feels like Red. In fact, lately he feels more like Red than ever. All he has is anger and panic left. At least he felt like some sort of hero when Anti was alive, when his defensiveness was protective and all of his siblings listened when he told them what they needed to do.

Now he’s just anger and panic. Anger and panic. Anger and panic.

“Whose blood is this?” asks Blue softly, rocking against him. “What happened? Are you okay?”

Jackie closes his eyes, fists clenched. “It’s not mine,” he manages after a few long minutes.

“Dammit, Jackie,” whispers Blue, because he knows it too - knows that Jackie’s being eaten alive by this new world as much as he enjoys it in the moments when things feel good. “Go home now, you’re flipping out.”

“Okay, I’m just bringing Dapper.”

“Jackie. He has to stay a while.”

“No. No. This is not where he goes. He’s supposed to be in the other room.”

“Jackie - ”

“This is not where he goes. This is not where he goes. He goes in the other room and I can check on everyone all night, as much as I want.”

“Ro, he’s staying here.”

There’s a clearing of the throat. Blue peeks over the top of the bed, face flushing as he sees the doctor looking at them.

“Would it help if I explained at all?” he asks.

Jackie blinks, glancing at Blue.

“No,” he says unsteadily. “He’s fine. We can go home. Yeah?”

The doctor lets out a small laugh. Jackie glowers, turning to look at him.

“Matti said you were a little overprotective,” the doctor tells him.

Jackie shoots Blue a dirty look.

“Oh, come on,” snaps Blue. “Look at yourself.”

“Whatever,” growls Jackie, crossing his arms over his chest.

“We’ll give you a minute to talk,” says the doctor, rising to his feet. “And when you have questions, you can come find me.”

Anonymous asked: Freedom from abuse can be just as scary as it is joyful. But Jackie, change has to happen. If you keep living like Anti made you, it'll be very hard to heal. The brother hierarchy absolutely has to be abolished. You are all equally capable, fragile or not. Your brothers are adults just as you are. They can take care of each other just as much as you care for them. Have trust and hope in your brothers and their capability.

“You should never have brought him in. You should never have - ”

“Rose,” says Blue quietly. “Listen to me.”

“You should never - ”

“Ro,” repeats Blue more sternly, wrapping a warm hand around his arm. “We’ve been working on this. Listen.”

Jackie shuts his mouth. There’s a flood of words beneath his teeth but he shuts his mouth. For Blue. He’s trying.

“You were doing so well right at the beginning,” sighs Blue, sinking down to sit beside him, letting their knees bump together. “What changed? Ever since we left the mansion, you’re really having a hard time.”

“In the mansion you were all right there!” Jackie can hear the whine in his own voice, but he can’t help it. “You all did exactly what you were supposed to every day and you were all right there. Now you all want to talk about doing different things.”

“Jackie,” groans Blue with a laugh, his head falling on his shoulder. “You know your desire to protect is sometimes a little infantilizing, right?”

“What am I supposed to do about it?” asks Jackie quietly. “Just watch you all get hurt again?”

“Maybe,” says Blue. “Just a little, maybe. If that’s what making our own choices is.”

“Oh, and this was Dapper’s choice?”

“This was mine and Chase’s while he’s too sick to make his own.”

“You should have talked to me.”

“You would have said no.”

“Blue,” says Jackie, gripping his wrist. “They’re going to take him to an institution.”

“No, they’re not.” Blue rubs his shoulder. “Maybe he’ll be in the psychiatric ward for a couple days, but they just want to get him stable. They just need to see how he’s doing. Dapper can function for himself - with a little help - when he’s stable. They’ll see that. They’ll let him come home. The doctor seems good, Jackie.”

“You shouldn’t trust them.”

“Jackie. Chase was talking to me earlier and he’s right - we can’t just spend the rest of our lives sick and hiding.”

“We could,” protests Jackie. “We’d be together and safe, isn’t that what’s important?”

“You’re crazy sometimes. I love you.”

“I love you too,” grumbles Jackie. “But I am not leaving him here. End of story.”

“Well, they’re not discharging him, tough guy.”

nikkilbook asked: Jackie, between you and me, I’m not so sure the universe believes in “one chance.” I don’t think there’s a single, prescriptive path that some higher power demands that you take or else. I just don’t think that’s how the universe works.

Have you ever watched a video about teaching an AI to solve a puzzle or play a game? It’s chaos, with thousands of little dots all trying to find the right gap through to the next part of the maze. And out of thousands, one dot does well enough that the next set follows its lead before splintering off to find the next gap.

When the puzzle is solved, the dot probably takes the most bizarre, inane pathway possible—from the viewer’s perspective. We can see the whole maze, while the dot only know what it’s bumping up against. So what if it doubles back or spins in a circle for a solid minute or pinballs off the walls instead of just traveling in a straight line? It made it to the end.

It’s okay to focus on getting your family to a safe place right now. That’s the next gap in the maze. But don’t discount an entire section just because a previous turn led to a dead end. There’s never only one way to get to the end of this maze—heck, you could bust out a chainsaw and make your own path if you wanted to (unlike the dots, you have opposable thumbs).

You’re a miracle, Jackieboy. Your DNA is filled with thousands upon trillions of branching potentialities, designed to respond to and act upon the world around you. Your future is not and never will be only one thing. And maybe the branch where you marry Max has been closed off, or maybe it hasn’t, but that isn’t the only branch that ends with your personal happy ending, independent of and interdependent with your brothers. So do what you need to do right now, but don’t count your own path out just yet.

Jackie sits with his twin for a long time, thinking. He doesn’t mind the visualization. It sticks in his head - an AI exploring, bumping, returning, trying again. He traces patterns on the tiled floor, knees drawn to his chest.

“All I’m doing is bumping into dead ends lately.”

“Well, keep going,” chuckles Blue. “We’ll find a way out someday.”

“What if I’m just too bad at change?” Jackie asks. “What if I can’t ever trust you guys to be alone or to make your own choices? I’m just… so angry lately, Blue, and so… I’m scared.”

Blue rubs drying blood off his brother’s knuckles. “What did you do?” he asks softly.

Jackie cringes, turning away from him. “I… got in a fight.”

“What do you mean? With who? Magicians?”

“No,” sighs Jackie. “Just some asshole. He made a comment at me. Pissed me off. I felt like he was - like he was going to hurt me. So I got up in his face, and when he started shoving me, I hit him. And then I… kept hitting him.”

“Jackie,” hisses Blue, alarmed. “We’re supposed to be lying low! What if he called the cops?”

“He was unconscious,” replies Jackie.

“Ro, you have to be kidding.”

“He was going to hurt me,” says Jackie. “He was going to hurt you.”

“How was he going to hurt us?”

“I don’t know!” shouts Jackie. “He just was!”

Blue backs off again and goes back to cleaning the blood from his hands, exhausted. He lets him cool down again. They breathe. Jackie watches his twin wet a paper towel and return to him, and as the red slips away from the tiny cracks in his knuckles and fingers, he thinks about trillions of possibilities, and wonders when it was that he stopped seeing anything other than hurt siblings and isolation at the end of his road.

nikkilbook asked: I can tell you who I think Jackie is.

He’s kind. He’s quiet sometimes, and he’s loud sometimes. He feels his emotions with every cell in his body and maybe a few more besides, even if he doesn’t know what the emotion is all the time. He’s the kind of person who wakes up early to make bacon pancakes for his little brother but gets thwarted by a little grey cat.

In the past, he’s been the kind of person to love at the expense of his own soul. He loves and loves and loves until there’s nothing left, and he thought he was okay with that. He once said “you are the people who love you, and I am no one at all,” as if the love and energy and honesty and connection that flows from one person to another is snatched away by the universe the second they leave the room. As if the person he became because of that love and because of every struggle and adventure and regular day he had walked through wasn’t something he’d grown into all on his own, as if that was something he’d had to earn based on some arbitrary, unwritten cosmic rule.

I know that he is brilliant, that he can learn and do a thousand things a thousand times over if you give him a chance. I know he loves saving the world and making a difference, and that he’s an absolute dork who got a crush on the cop who was supposed to arrest him and who slaughters his brothers at Mario Kart and laughs the whole time.

I know he loves by telling the truth, but that he hasn’t figured out what truth he’s supposed to tell himself yet. I know he was created because someone was scared, but I wonder if the point wasn’t to shield them from the fear by feeling it instead, but to help them be brave by staying and feeling the fear with them.

Those are the pieces of you that I have, Jackieboy Man. Now you get to decide what the rest of the puzzle looks like. Tell me a story, Astrifer. Tell me a story about who Jackie is going to be now.

“Look, they’ve been watching a long time,” laughs Blue. “They know you, huh?”

Jackie shrugs, listening to Dapper’s breathing and tracing patterns on the floor.

“Do you trust the cameras?”

Jackie glances up at him, then at you. “Yeah, I guess.”

“You guess or you do?”

“I trust the cameras,” says Jackie quietly.

“Well, why?”

Jackie almost doesn’t want to reflect on how many things you’ve helped him through. All the memories seem to be so bad. Like there’s nothing else left.

“They helped me take care of you all,” he says, even softer.

Blue nods, leaning back. After a moment, he adds: “And Max?”

Jackie’s head rises, his eyes flashing. “What? What about him?”

“Did you trust him?”

Jackie stares at his twin. For all that he wanted Blue to know and meet Max back when they were together, he never ended up talking to him much about him. Max was separate from everything else. Max was separate from the badness - up until Jackie hit him and left him knocked out in a graveyard somewhere.

“Does it matter?” he asks morosely.

“Come on, Rojo.”

“Yeah, okay? I trusted him.”

“Why?”

Jackie picks at the floor, exhausted.

“He helped me take care of Dapper. He helped me… take care of… of myself. When I needed him. He helped me. He wanted good things for you. For me.”

“Okay,” says Blue. “So you trusted Max. And you trust the cameras - which are all pretty much total strangers, I might add. So if we think about this logically, don’t you already know that there are people in the world who want to help? Who can be trusted?”

Jackie snorts. “Don’t try to trick my autism with logic, Blue.”

“Jackie, this isn’t your autism,” Blue answers seriously. “This is Anti teaching you that the rest of the world is unsafe. Teaching you that you’re the only one who can keep everyone safe and that we’ll all get hurt if you ever stray from what he wanted you to do. And he taught you those lessons in blood, Jackie. I know how much he hurt you. I mean, I know change being hard and extreme emotions and all that, maybe some hand in hand there, yeah, but, Jackie - this isn’t your autism. That’s your trauma.”

Jackie looks up at him, mouth parted. “You think?”

“Yeah.”

“But how do I get over that?”

“I think you should talk to someone,” says Blue carefully. “And I think you need to start trying to trust us again.”

“How,” asks Jackie, clinging to the idea, the first attempt at hope he’s had in days. “How do I do that?”

“Why don’t we start with spending some time in this hospital,” says Blue. “And letting someone else help you take care of Dapper.”

Jackie looks up at him, sleeping in his bed, and for a second, the wires and needles and monitors aren’t just surveillance and pain for his brother. They’re medicine and supervision and professional help. They’re… maybe okay?

Maybe if he tries.

“Okay,” he says after a long moment.

And it still sends a thrill of fear up his back. It still makes his heart clench up and his chest shake. But he’s trying. He’s listening. And you’re right, Blue’s right, they’re all right -

If he doesn’t try to change, he will only ever be Red, and Red will only ever be the man Anti made him into.

Strangers will hurt you, Red.

You lied to me about so many things, little brother.

“Okay. I’ll try.”

aether-mae asked: Jackie, not to be a hopeless romantic here but of course he would come if you called. Whatever desire you have to see him right now he probably feels the same. You take care of your brothers until you’re fully settled, then if you want you can allow yourself a little indulgence and see if you can find ur fiancé? He would be over the moon to find out you’re free

“You still think about him, don’t you?” Blue says, a little teasing coming into his voice.

“Nooo,” argues Jackie, scowling as his cheeks color. “I don’t want to talk about him.”

“He’d come calling if you asked, Jackie, I bet you anything.”

“Yeah, and then he’d realized what a fucked-up jerk I am and he wouldn’t want me,” Jackie shoots back, burying his face in his arms.

Blue’s smile sinks away. “How long have you been this down on yourself?”

“I want to be better for all of you,” says Jackie, looking up at him. “And if I can change at all, I will, no matter what it takes. I’ll do anything I can. But if you knew the way I think half the time, even you wouldn’t want me, Blue. I don’t want to find Max. I don’t want him to know who I am. He liked me so much. I couldn’t watch him start to hate me.”

Blue’s fingers are unsteady as they rest against Jackie’s shoulder.

“Honey,” he says after a moment, feeling his twin’s misery radiating into him. It makes his stomach hurt. “Can we…”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” says Jackie. “I’ll go see a therapist or whatever when things are more settled. Can I just have a hug?”

“A really tight hug?”

“Just the way I like it,” Jackie jokes weakly.

Blue squishes him tight. They share the silence together, wrapped around each other on the floor of a hospital room.

.

Anonymous asked: Everything will be okay, Jackie. These people are here to help and keep Dapper safe. The tubing and wires and medical equipment can seem pretty damn scary, especially attached to someone you love. But these things will help him, just as much as you can. It's alright to let him stay here for a night or two, I completely understand your hesitance though. They will protect him, and you will see him again. There's nothing to fear here.

“Yeah?”

Jackie hasn’t slept all night and you can see it in the blue circles beneath his puffy eyes. He rubs at his face and sinks back against the hospital chair. Don’t ask him how he convinced the staff to let him stay all through the night. He has a weird feeling someone’s taking pity on them. But if it keeps him with his brother that’s all that matters.

“I guess everyone’s been nice,” he admits after a minute. “And he hasn’t seemed scared. Mostly he’s just slept, and when he wakes up he’s real loopy, but he seems… okay. Just tired, I think. They gave him the anti-psychotics intravenously so it’s supposed to be kicking in even faster than pills would. But everyone’s all gentle with him… all worried.”

Jackie kneads his fingers in his brother’s bedsheets anxiously. “I’m worried something’s really wrong.”

But all he can do is wait while Dapper sleeps.

Dapper wakes some thirty minutes later, hazy blue eyes sliding open. Jackie jerks upright and clutches his hand, staring at him.

“J,” signs Dapper flimsily.

“I’m here, man,” Jackie swears, squeezing his fingers before letting his hand go so he can sign.

“What day is it? Where are we?”

“We’re at the hospital. It’s, uh…. summer?”

Dapper smiles slowly at him.

“How do you feel?”

His eyes drift away. He sighs deep and sleepy, running his fingers through his limp hair and glancing at the wires he’s connected to when they get in the way. He thinks about it for a while, glancing out into the warm sun through the window.

“I feel pretty good,” he signs honestly, blinking. “My head’s pretty fuzzy. Not sure what happened. But I feel good. Really good, actually.”

Jackie seems to wilt with relief. “Good… good. I’m sorry I didn’t… I should have brought you in earlier, I think, but I was just scared…”

His brother’s blue eyes turn to look at him. There’s no irritation or disappointment to be found. JJ smiles fully at Jackie, gold in the morning light, and reaches out to squeeze Jackie’s fingers in return, leaning back against his pillows and letting his eyes slide shut again.

nikkilbook asked: Hey there, Jaimer. Good to have you back.

“Hey, there,” he says. “I do feel a little foggy.”

“That would be the drugs,” says Jackie warmly.

“Right.”

“I think the doctor wants to come talk to you soon. They might be pretty suspicious, pal. You don’t have much scarring - you heal really well - but you’re not exactly a healthy guy.”

“Oh, no, you talk to them for me. Tell them you’re my translator or something. I’m not really supposed to talk to doctors.”

“Who’s going to stop you?” asks Jackie gently.

Dapper’s hand rises to his throat for a second. Jackie recognizes the start of Anti’s sign name, but a second later, JJ’s fingers fall away.

He blinks, listening for a second.

He stares around the room.

Nothing moves.

“Holy hell,” signs JJ.

And then, after a second, he adds:

“He’s dead.”

Jackie watches him, mouth down-turned. “Yeah,” he replies.

Jameson nods slowly. “Wow.”

They sit. Birds flicker by the window, free in the air.

“How do you feel?” asks Jackie for a second time.

“I feel sad,” signs JJ. “And sorry for him. It’s very quiet. It does hurt. But it’s okay. I think I’m glad too. I think I’m glad.”

“Yeah. I think I get that.”

“Dead, wow. Anti.”

“Yeah.”

“Does it…?”

“Sometimes. Sometimes it hurts all of us, I think. Even Blue is fucked up from it. He won’t admit that but he is. It’s okay to be sad.”

“I wish… I guess… but no. He’s dead. It was time. It’s a good thing.”

“Just feels kind of bad.”

“Feels pretty bad. But sort of okay too. Sort of alright.”

scunneredzombie asked: Jameson!! Welcome back to the waking world, I'm glad you're feeling well. Be careful with the doctors, they might not be very 'on top' of things like demons and monsters and magic. Try to twist things in a less magical way when they ask about the abuse, perhaps? I know you don't want to hide, but you must be careful as well.

JJ scans the message, eyebrows folding as he looks up at Jackie. “What am I supposed to tell them?”

“The doc thinks you’re crazy, don’t sweat it.”

“I’m a little crazy…”

“Yeah, a little,” answers Jackie, typing on his phone.

“Jackie!”

“What? Too straightforward again?”

The doctor comes through the door, clipboard in hand, a moment later. It’s the same man from yesterday who was sitting in the corner when Jackie came to find his brother. He’s an old guy with glasses. Jackie’s been watching him coming and going all night, mostly just double-checking JJ’s vitals or whatever and asking Jackie how he’s doing before sweeping out again and letting the nurses take over. His badge reads ‘Ryan Bowlan.’

“Well, look at that. He’s awake. Good morning,” he says, smiling at Jameson. “Good to see you up. How are we feeling? Shall I grab the translator?”

“I can translate for him just fine,” says Jackie.

“I feel okay,” says JJ, sinking back against his pillows.

“He feels okay.”

“I think you gave your brothers a bit of a scare. Do you remember what happened?”

JJ glances at Jackie. “Not really.”

“He says not really.”

“That’s alright, then. We’ll see what we can get figured out. I’d like to go over some of our concerns just you and me and the translator, if that sounds alright. What do you say?”

“I said I can translate for him just fine,” Jackie repeats tersely. “You can talk about whatever you want with me in the room. He’s fine with it.”

Anonymous asked: Jackie, you should let them talk alone. Don't make the doctors suspicious, they might blame one of you or the other brothers for the scarring/abuse symptoms going on with JJ. JJ might also have things to say that he can't say in front of you that he needs to tell doctors.

Jackie’s instinct to turn on you in curbed by the realization that he can’t shout at a camera without looking equally psychotic. He bites down on his mouth, his leg bouncing rapidly, and shoots you a dirty look. JJ snaps at him for his attention and gives him a warning look in return.

“I can translate just fine,” signs Jackie. “You’re nervous, I know you’re nervous. I’ll stay.”

“No, not about me, you know that’s not about me. This is the control issues and overprotectiveness everyone keeps warning you about. They’re talking sense so stop being a puffed-up bird about it. I’m a little nervous but I’ll be okay for five minutes. I have the cameras anyway.”

“The cameras can’t protect you if he decides to - to - ”

“To what?” laughs JJ weakly. “Jackie, he’s a doctor. He’s not going to attack me.”

“You don’t know. You don’t know that.”

“Go pace outside. You are my brother so you trust me, right?”

Jackie’s gnawing so hard on his lip that the doctor actually steps forward for a second, a flash of concern on his face, but finally Jackie lets out a seething breath, a bit of blood on his lip, and gets to his feet, tucking JJ in before turning with a dark look and stalking past the doctor.

“Kiss, kiss,” he signs at his little brother. “Cameras, tell me if he needs me.”

“Kiss,” replies JJ warmly. “I’m okay.”

“I’ll be right outside.”

“Okay.”

Anonymous asked: What does the doctor have to ask?

Jackie paces in the hall, occasionally sneaking glances through the window in the top of the door. The translating nurse is in there now, but Jackie can only just see his back, and he doesn’t know what they’re talking about. He finds a chair and rocks back and forth on the legs, ignoring the looks it gets him as he thuds against the tile.

“I’m sure he wants to ask about him being so… thin and torn up and sick,” mumbles Jackie, chewing on his nails. “What if he does think we’re the ones who hurt him? What if he doesn’t let him come home with us?”

“Jackie?”

He’s never been so relieved to see Blue coming towards him. He holds out his arms and is rewarded with a tight hug.

“They’re in there with him?”

“Yeah. He said he was okay alone. I didn’t want to leave him.”

“Well, if he says he’s okay, I’m sure he is.”

“How’s things at home.”

“Um… okay. Chase is avoiding me. I think now that I realized he might not be doing so well he doesn’t want to talk about it.”

“We’ll corner him tonight, then.”

Blue chuckles. “Okay.”

.

“So what’s been going on?”

JJ stares up at the doctor, hands twisting in his lap.

“Your brother said he found you in your apartment. He thought you’d been there for a while, Kayden.”

His name’s not Kayden, but it doesn’t much matter. He needs to find the balance between the safety of lying, the necessity of some truth, and his own beleaguered delusionalism.

“It’s been a long time since you’ve been healthy,” adds the doctor quietly. “What’s going on?”

“I couldn’t get out of my room,” he signs finally. The translator speaks aloud for him.

“Why’s that?”

“I wasn’t allowed.”

“Okay. Okay.” The doctor takes patient notes in his chart. “Who was stopping you?”

JJ sighs, shaking his head. “Um. Anti.”

“Can you spell it for me?” signs the translator.

“A-N-T-I.”

“Anti? What’s Anti?”

JJ’s mouth twitches with a tired smile, just for a moment.

“He’s my monster,” he signs softly.

“Your monster. Okay. Tell me about him.”

JJ puts his hands over his eyes and goes quiet.

scunneredzombie asked: You can do this, JJ. Tell them anything you need to, you can get through this. It might be helpful to talk about Anti as though he's either a human brother or a delusion?

“It doesn’t really matter anymore,” signs JJ. “Because he’s gone.”

“Is that a good thing?”

JJ squeezes his eyes shut. Ouch.

“Yes, I know it is. It doesn’t always feel like it is but it is.”

He doesn’t want to cry in front of strangers. He scrubs at his face and lets out a breath.

“What got rid of him?”

“My brother got rid of him.”

“The same brother who brought you to the hospital?”

“Yes.”

“I’m glad he found you. How long were you in your apartment?”

“A long time. Sometimes I would try to get out but I couldn’t. I’d get in trouble, you know, with Anti, so I think I lost hope. Some days it was hard to remember there was even anything outside. Just in my room day after day. He told me I couldn’t leave. He was a monster, you know. He looked just like me and my brothers but he was not like us. My brother stabbed him.”

“He stabbed him?”

“I wanted to help but I was just crying. I didn’t want him to kill him. I’m a coward.”

The doctor squints his eyes at him for a second before his face is professionally sympathetic again. “Sounds like you’ve been through a lot. We’re here to get you some help, okay? Do you see Anti now?”

“No… he’s gone. He won’t come back. Well, I guess sometimes I’ve been seeing him and hearing him. But really he’s gone because my brother saved me even though I didn’t deserve it.”

The doctor leans forward to set a soothing hand on his wrist, but JJ jerks back in alarm.

“Please don’t touch me!” he signs. “That’s not allowed, that makes me go crazy.”

“I’m sorry, Kayden, I won’t touch you then. What do you mean when you say that?”

“I’m still just Anti’s killer, really, I - I just lose control - I hurt people. He would bring people to my room and make me hurt them, but I - ”

“Hey,” says the doctor clearly, setting his hand gently down on the sheets of the bed instead. “There was no one else in your apartment. I think things are okay. Do you see anybody hurt right now?”

“No… no, I think the medication’s working okay.”

“Well, that’s good. Are you okay with being on medication?”

“Yes, I’m happy about that. I feel terrible when I’m off the stuff. Scared all the time.”

“Are you scared now?”

“Yes, but not so bad. Not nearly so bad. And just of normal stuff. Not Anti controlling my brain or my brothers secretly being possessed. Just normal stuff.”

“Okay. Well, Kayden, I’d like to review some blood tests we did yesterday. There’s some concerns I’d like to address but we’re going to get to work on all of them. I can talk to your brothers about it too afterwards and we’ll all make a plan for how to tackle this. Does that sound okay?”

JJ blinks, looking up at his eyes. He doesn’t look like a bad man. And the thought of actually knowing what’s going on with him - and better yet, being able to do something about it - well, that sounds wildly good to him. Impossibly good, almost. Is this what normal people do? If you’re in pain, you try to fix it?

“Yeah,” he signs. “I think that sounds good.”

Anonymous asked: Hey Jackie, in your note that morning you mentioned you might've found somewhere to stay and people who could help. What did you find?

“Oh! Yeah!” Jackie pulls a yellow pamphlet out of his hoodie pocket and hands it to Blue, pointing at a number under ‘housing.’ “I went to the Victim’s Advocate place in the middle of town. Told them I was trying to get away from someone who was hurting me. They said that this place will set you up in a hotel and then help you apply for housing if you’re broke. Like, low-income housing, you just gotta pass a background check. So they can get us in a hotel tonight I think, maybe two if we call from different numbers.”

Blue blinks up at him. “Jackie, that was pretty smart.”

Jackie shrugs. “You said we needed somewhere to stay, so I found somewhere.”

Blue rubs his shoulder, grinning at him, and flips through the pamphlet. “This could help us get food assistance and jobs too. This is great.”

“We just have to stay on the down-low. If anything connects us to the murders and thefts we’ve done, we’re lost. We’ll have to run again.”

“Well, then no more getting in fights,” Blue warns him. “Jackie, you have to find something else to do with the aggression.”

Jackie sighs and slides back in his seat. “Working on it.”

“You could have told me about this earlier too, ha.”

“Well, I guess I got distracted.”

The doctor is stepping out into the hall a moment later and turning to look at them.

“Good morning,” he says politely. “Can I meet with you two in my office for a minute?”

Blue and Jackie exchange rapid looks.

scunneredzombie asked: Chase, Henrik, how are you doing? Everything is going okay at the hospital I think, they're taking care of each other. No one checked on you two in a while so I'm making sure everything's good!

“We’re okay,” sighs Chase, stacking a domino on its side. Trying to engage Henrik has resulted in the pair of them making domino towers for the better part of the day, but at least his twin looks at ease, carefully arranging the dominoes higher and higher with a precision reminiscent of his more alert days. “Not doing too much, I guess.”

He takes a swig from a beer stolen from the fridge and sits back with dull eyes, watching his brother build. There’s something haunted in his face today, and his fingers, drumming against the table, are impatient and frustrated.

“Dok?” he calls.

Henrik places one domino on top of another.

“Henrik. Dok. Deutsch. Hey.”

Henrik scratches at a bandaid on his cheek and picks up another domino. Chase slumps back against the couch, shaking his head, and takes another drink.

“Just let me know if we can go to the hospital for a turn. I could use a change of scene.”

.

The doctor’s office is filled with plants.

Jackie picks at a succulent on the desk, leg bouncing. Blue looks carefully around the office, much more still than his brother, hands clasping hard on his knee. The ferns and plants throughout the room shift slightly as he pulls at the reassuring buzz of his power, waiting for a threat. Waiting for a fight.

“Thanks for coming in,” says Doctor Bowlan.

The twins stare at him, eyes flickering as he shuts the door behind him and traps them in the room, heading towards his desk and taking a seat.

“I just wanted to sit down with you to talk about some of your brother’s behaviors. He signed a form for me to talk about some of his symptoms and information with you. Do you have a few minutes?”

Jackie and Blue exchange looks, mouths setting in sync. Here it comes – the questions about scars and trauma and monsters in their memories. They have to balance staying on the down-low with providing enough information to get JJ help. Jackie lets Blue do the talking. Jackie’s in charge, sure, but Blue’s the better liar.

“Sure,” Blue answers. “Yes, please, we want to know what’s going on with him.”

“You said he’d been living on his own for a while before you visited him?”

“Yeah,” says Blue. “He has an apartment in town. Or had an apartment. When we came to visit him he was just… wandering.”

“It’s a good thing you did check on him. Seems he’s been off his medication for a while. You put that he has schizophrenia in his file? I don’t see a diagnosis.”

“He was diagnosed in another country. He travels a lot. Not sure if it was ever official, though. Just know he used to be on Haldol.”

“Unfortunately I’m concerned that some of his behaviors are extending beyond the scope of schizophrenia.”

Blue blinks, glancing at his twin. “What does that mean?”

“Your brother has a very powerful delusion that he was trapped in his room for several years,” says the doctor, looking up at them both. “Or it seems to be a delusion. Sometimes he’s more clear than other times. Sometimes he tells me it didn’t happen. Sometimes he says it did. Why would he say something like that?”

Blue shrugs, mouth pursed. “He has delusions about time travel and international crime, too.”

“Your brother has some really concerning scars.”

“I’m scared he’s been hurting himself.”

“I’m scared someone else has been hurting him,” replies the doctor, voice a little flatter, leaning slightly forward. “Because last I checked, most patients, whether or not they have psychotic disorders, do not self-harm with bite marks in their wrists, poorly set bones, and remnants of what appear to be belt marks across their back. His blood work suggests he’s been under-medicated for more than a year. He’s malnourished, vitamin deficient, traumatized, isolated, and just scarred enough for any doctor with a pair of eyes and half a brain to know that something messed up is going on here.”

Blue’s mouth is dry, but his eyes are stinging. He stares down at the floor.

“Have you called the cops or what?” asks Jackie coldly after a moment, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I’d like to know how to help you,” Bowlan hisses back, his dark eyes flashing. “Because guess what, guys? You also appear to be – how do I put this? – messed up. Over-protective, paranoid, aggressive with the nurses, secretive, scarred-up, visibly hungry… or did I imagine you swiping donuts from the break room with all the confidence of an experienced thief?”

Jackie squirms guiltily, chewing on his mouth, his left hand gripping Blue’s wrist defensively. After a second, he tugs on it firmly, and the two of them get to their feet.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” says Blue.

“Don’t go,” the doctor shoots back firmly, his eyes flashing. “Don’t you dare go or I’ll call Adult Protective Services and the cops, and then keep your little brother in the psych ward until a very thorough social worker has decided that he is safe with you – or not.”

Jackie’s hand is shaking around Blue’s wrist. They both stare at each other for a second. Blue draws his shoulders back and Jackie follows suit, taking a deep breath in. They turn back to the doctor.

“What do you want?” asks Jackie.

“Nothing, guys, nothing,” protests the doctor, voice softening as he opens his hands. “To help, that’s all. To know that he’s safe. If I thought one of you had done this to him, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. What the hell are you lot running from?”

Blue shakes his head. “It’s a very long story,” he whispers.

“Are you safe now?” asks the doctor seriously. “Is someone going to come try and hurt him?”

“No,” says Blue softly. “I took care of it.”

The doctor nods for a second, looking up at them. Then he gets to his feet and takes off his lab coat. “What’s your guys’ names again?” he asks.

Jackie and Blue blink.

“Uh – just Ro is good,” says Jackie.

“I’m Matti,” says Blue.

“Ro. Matti. Okay. Well, I’m Ryan. Can I get the pair of you some lunch?”

Anonymous asked: Blue, Jackie, talk about Anti as though he's a human, an abuser who kidnapped all of you. It would make it easier for the doctor to understand. And for lords' sake let him buy you a lunch, y'all need it.

“I… could use some lunch,” Blue offers at last, glancing at Jackie, who’s so taut he looks like he might actually attack Bowlan. But Blue knows he’s hungry too, and he’s trying not to do anything that will make anyone think they can’t look after JJ.

“Great,” says the doctor, with all the caution of a horse girl on TV trying to tame a stallion.

Blue thinks it’s a fair comparison a few minutes later, watching Jackie shovel cafeteria nachos breathlessly into his mouth. It actually makes him smile despite himself. What a mess. They’re all a goddamn mess. He picks at a chicken salad, watching Bowlan warily and trying to figure out where to start.

“I didn’t find him in his apartment,” he says finally. “Or on the street alone.”

Bowlan is an old man with white hair and dark, intelligent eyes. He watches him carefully.

“We were in America,” says Blue. “And the demon he talks about was someone we knew. Not a hallucination. We realized he was hurting him… hurting all of us… so I stopped him.”

Bowlan nods slowly, an illusion of carelessness as he drinks from a cup of tea. “Kayden says you stabbed him.”

Blue stares at his chicken. Jackie is gripping his knee tight, the two of them bent towards each other, a united front against whatever comes, and Blue loves him, and knows he loves him too. They look at each other and Blue lets Jackie keep going.

“The past doesn’t matter so much now,” says Jackie. “Cause he’s gone and won’t hurt us anymore.”

“It doesn’t hurt anymore?” asks Bowlan.

“It will be good soon,” says Jackie. “Just give us a little time.”

Blue realizes, with a rapid and clarifying sense of shame, that Jackie is parroting his own blind optimism.

“I didn’t ask about soon. Does it hurt now?”

Jackie glances at his twin and then back at the doctor. “Does what?”

“What you’ve been through. Is it still hurting?”

Jackie looks down at his plate, sifting some chips around. “Well. Kayden’s pretty sick.”

“Are you sick?”

“I’m… no, I’m good. I just - it’ll be good soon.”

“It’s Ro, yes?”

“Yes, I’m Ro.”

“You have some deep scars in your face.”

Jackie plucks self-consciously at his beard.

“Where are those from?”

Jackie looks away, face coloring.

“From him,” he says.

“Anti?”

“From Anti. Yeah. But that’s…. those are just old scars. So no, they don’t hurt anymore. It’ll be good. We should talk about Kayden.”

scunneredzombie asked: It's okay to talk about how hurting you are, Jackie. You came out of it with scars and trauma too. You're not alone in your pain, and JJ and you have been through the ringer and pulled back again. It's okay to acknowledge that it hurts. Not everything is okay, but that's okay.

Jackie purses his mouth before sticking another handful of nachos in it.

“I’m just taking guesses here,” says Bowlan. “But the only reason I’m bringing it all up is because I expect that the pair of you need some medical attention as well.”

Blue and Jackie exchange sulking looks. Blue sips at his fizzy drink.

Bowlan sighs.

“Okay. Let’s talk Kayden.”

“Please,” mumbles Blue.

“Schizophrenia is one thing. There are ways we can work on handling it. Sometimes schizophrenia does not respond well to treatment or medication, but based on what you’ve told me, I think some behavioral therapy and medication, along with social support, could really help Kayden improve.”

“That’s great. But you said you thought there was more than schizophrenia going on.”

“Well, there’s the obvious things - vitamin deficiencies and some other things I want to look into. His bones are pretty brittle. I’m not surprised he has old fractures. But psychologically, yes, I’m worried about other things. Your brother’s traumatized. I’m concerned about Post-Incarceration Syndrome.”

“What… what is that?” asks Jackie. “Like, what does that mean?”

“No matter what happened to you boys, it seems that Kayden has really felt that he has been alone – and possibly stuck in his room – for several months, believing that this Anti is forcing him to stay inside. So, while Post-Incarceration Syndrome is usually applied to someone who has been in prison, I think it might describe some of what your brother is going through. It often includes PTSD – the reliving his terror, the paranoia, the panic attacks and breakdowns – and can even include Stockholm Syndrome, which, in what I have to admit would make a very interesting case study, he seems to have developed through his own hallucination. Most concerningly, I think that Kayden is demonstrating Social Sensory Deprivation from long-term isolation.”

Blue’s stomach flips. He stares down at his plate, losing his appetite fast.

“He has some stimming behaviors consistent with intense social deprivation, including, at times, self-harm, slamming his head into things or biting his fingers to blood. He’s deeply obsessive. You’ve probably seen the way he draws for hours and hours at a time, often unable to stop even when someone tries to pull him out of it, and sometimes drawing the same thing again and again and again. He gets overwhelmed if you talk to him for too long, but at the same time, he seems almost alarmingly desperate for social interaction. He needs to be with people right now.”

“We won’t leave him on his own again,” whispers Blue, unable to meet his eyes. “We… couldn’t do anything about it til now.”

“All we can do is move forward,” agrees the old man kindly, stirring his tea. “I’m just sorry he’s been through so much. And I’m glad he has you now.”

“Yes, forever now,” agrees Jackie. “I promise.”

“But there is another reason I’m bringing this up. Post-Incarceration Syndrome can also include personality changes and a shifted view of the world. In Kayden, this is appearing as learned helplessness and submissiveness, generally ingrained in a person as part of their survival mechanism in an oppressive or abusive environment. He has felt that he is completely at the mercy of this monster for a very long time, and that would make it difficult for anyone to get out of the mindset that kept them alive.

“On the other hand, in some prisoners, it manifests as aggression towards others and more angry, defensive personality traits and outbursts, trying to protect one’s self from the abusive environment by lashing out. But Kayden has been mild – and in fact quite kind – so long as he isn’t hallucinating a threat. There can also be a need for control and a preference for the set-up of the abusive system even if it was problematic. They’re called Institutionalized Personality Traits – or just Antisocial Personality Traits. And I bring this up, boys, just because I wonder if maybe Kayden isn’t the only one displaying some of these behaviors.”

Blue and Jackie look up together, and then at each other, sharing the same expression of alarm. Just as quickly, they turn back to their plates, Jackie scraping up his chips while Blue takes a hasty sip of his drink.

Bowlan laughs and then clears his throat apologetically. “Sorry, it’s just that you two are certainly twins. I think you must be using telepathy.”

Blue sighs, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “We just… we’re here for Dap – for Kayden.”

“If Kayden is the only one who’s been through hell in the last few months, then sure, let’s focus on Kayden,” Bowlan agrees, picking at his salad.

“I do have some control issues and a bad temper sometimes,” says Jackie. “Hard to keep my emotions in check. That’s probably all you’re seeing.”

“Ah,” says Bowlan, visibly unconvinced. “And yourself, Matti?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” answers Blue blankly.

“You’re also quite thin, the pair of you. A little more active, I would guess, but quite thin. A little scarred up. A little panicky at times, if you don’t mind me saying. Look, we don’t have to get into it, I’m not a shrink, just… think about it. About getting some help for yourself.”

Blue turns away darkly, but Jackie’s wheels are already spinning, absent-mindedly sifting his chips through cheese. He does have angry outbursts. He does cling to the brother system and relive bad shit that’s happened to him, and sometimes he feels so angry at everyone else around him that he just wants to slink home to his brothers and spend the rest of his life hating the world until it stops scaring him. Post-Incarceration Syndrome. It repeats in his head.

Maybe it’s a name for the enemy he’s facing.

And if he can admit that there is an enemy to face, if he can admit that there is something that’s hurting him - well, maybe then he can fight it too.

“What do we do to help Kayden with all that, though?” asks Blue. “Social isolation and learned helplessness and Stockholm Syndrome. Like a therapist, okay, sure. But what do we do? As his family?”

“I think it will be really good for him to be living with someone again,” Bowlan encourages. “Keeping him company, providing him with the social stimulation he’s been missing. Just helping him live again, you know? He needs hobbies other than drawing for fourteen hours a day. Needs to get out of the house, to meet people, to remember who he was before all this. Help him make his own decisions and give him power in his life again so he doesn’t think he just has to lie down and let this all happen to him. Respecting his choices is going to be key here. I’ve been watching you two – I know you want to take care of him. But you will need to be able to let him decide how to take care of himself too once he’s feeling a little more stable. Otherwise you’ll just become the new boss to him.”

Blue nods. He supposes that’s what the cameras said too. Tearing down the big brother system. Treating Dapper like an equal. In the abstract, it all makes sense. He just needs to start applying it. Harder than it sounds, but… necessary. Vital, even. Shit, this is going to be difficult.

"Do you have any questions for me?” asks the doctor.

Anonymous asked: Hey Chase, how is Noodle doing? You haven't mentioned your kitty in a while.

“He’s in the garage,” mumbles Chase, kicking his feet against the carpet. “Scratches up the curtains if we let him in. Not that we haven’t already fucked the house up. I wish we had somewhere of our own to stay. Even just a wrecked cabin somewhere. We’ve lived in worse. I just wish something would change.”

He takes another slow drink of his beer and sets it down, empty, beside the second at his feet. Henrik stares at him for a second.

“What?” sighs Chase. “You okay? Or less okay than you usually are? Jackie said he’d try to bring us more food today, but we have water and stuff. What do you need?”

Henrik just gazes at him. Chase bites his teeth, suddenly and painfully angry. He wants to fucking shake him.

“I wish you’d just say anything to me, Deutsch,” cries Chase. “Aren’t you there? Can I have another hug? Do you even know it’s me next to you? Please just tell me what to do for you.”

Henrik ducks his head slightly, still staring up at him. Big blue eyes. Big and endless. Chase squints back at him, searching for any sign of his twin.

Universe eyes, going on forever.

Sharp blue, oceanic.

Chase blinks, dazed.

Are you tired? You look tired.

Blue eyes darkening.

Just lie down, Trick. You’re tired. You’ll be good for me, won’t you?

He can’t seem to move. He is tired. He’s not angry anymore. The house is comfy and they have everything they need. He doesn’t know why he complained.

Henrik’s head tilts a little and their gaze breaks. Trick crumples off the couch in an instant, ragdolling onto the floor.

Anonymous asked: Ask the doctor about more of your symptoms, Jackie. See if he can give you more names for the monsters surrounding you.

Jackie sighs, resting his chin in his hands. It’s weird, but for a second he almost wishes… Blue weren’t here. Which isn’t something he’s wished in months.

“I have a lot of control issues,” he says finally. “And I think maybe it is because that was the system. Now I think that if I’m not in charge, something bad will happen to everyone. And I’ll… get in trouble.”

“What does ‘getting in trouble’ mean?” asks Bowlan quietly.

Jackie cringes. Blue’s staring at him, expression caught somewhere between warning and concern.

“Um. He chained me to my bed once. Or we just wouldn’t eat. Or just old-fashioned, you know. Like, he - he would cut me up or smack me around a little.”

“How old was Anti?” asks Bowlan.

“He was a couple years younger than me. He was the middle brother.”

And that breaks through the doctor’s professional facade. He rears back for a second, blinking.

“Oh. This was your brother too?”

“No,” says Blue quickly, grabbing Jackie’s arm. “No, he just - we called each other - it wasn’t that bad. Jackie, let’s go. Thanks for lunch.”

“He’s dead now, what does it matter?” asks Jackie miserably. “Fucking asshole. Yeah, my little brother. I thought I had to protect him. But he just hurt all of us. And I’m still scared of him even though he’s gone.”

Blue’s paused in his attempts to get him off the booth by the sudden tears in Jackie’s eyes. His brother is leaning over his empty plate, hands shaking.

“I have nightmares every night, so sometimes I just don’t sleep. I have to keep going for runs or else I’ll forget I’m free now. And I am scared. I’m scared of everything. I’m scared of fire from the night he set the forest alight. I’m scared of rope because I don’t want to get tied up again. I’m scared of fucking Coca-Cola because he bought me a drink the day he put me in prison and then took me out again. I feel like… I’m dying. I don’t know of what or why, but most nights I sit awake and think that - that I’m going to die soon, that I won’t live very much longer, that maybe it would be better that way.”

Blue falls back into his seat, grabbing Jackie’s hand, mouth parted.

Anonymous asked: Blue, do you think this explains your angry outbursts and your dissociative symptoms? You might be struggling with this as well, you and Jackie both. You can't say you didn't feel like a prisoner to Anti.

“I don’t… I don’t have…”

“You don’t?” asks Jackie, voice breaking. “It’s just me?”

“No,” answers Blue immediately, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to think. Fuck, he doesn’t want to do this. Doesn’t want to talk, doesn’t want to be here, doesn’t want to break down. Can’t break down! He’s fine!

“What’s dissociative?” asks Jackie weakly, turning to pull Blue’s gaze back towards him. “What’s that? You’re sick?”

“No, it means - it’s just - ”

Blue glances desperately at Bowlan, but the doctor seems to have decided to let him wade this one out on his own.

“Just some body issues,” manages Blue.

“Cause of how Anti used you?”

Fuck, no, no, now Blue’s eyes are burning too. He buries his face in his hands, breathing unsteadily.

“Yeah, Rose, sure. Cause of how Anti… yeah.”

“You are angry, Azul,” adds Jackie softly, wiping at his face. “You’re as angry as I am, you just pretend you’re not til you snap.”

Blue’s so tired. Down to the heart of him. He slumps back in the booth, exhausted, ugly, worn through to brittle bone.

“I just… need to make up for the fact that I let you all get into this mess in the first place,” he says finally. “Marvin should have done that. I guess I’m more angry at him than anyone else. But it comes out on everyone.”

“Are you experiencing dissociation?” asks Dr. Bowlan.

“It’s a long story,” says Blue quietly. “Just hard to feel like you own your own body after what I’ve been through.”

It’s Jackie turn to hold his hand. Familiar, torn-up gloves curl around Blue’s palm. And they’re still leaning towards each other. Still united against whatever.

“Sorry,” sighs Blue.

“Don’t have to be sorry,” answers Bowlan mildly.

“The truth is he was a fucked up person,” says Jackie, still watching his twin. “Anti was. And he got us into a lot of fucked up shit. We can’t go back to America. We want to get back to England where Kayden grew up, but we’re broke in more ways than one. We… we kind of…”

“We need help,” finishes Blue after a moment.

Their hands are bound together.

“Yeah,” says Jackie. “Yeah, I think we need a lot of help.”

It’s making him cry. Blue loves him for admitting it. Loves him for sitting here with him and holding his hand. Fuck, he is lucky to have siblings like this. Jackie is powerful in a way Blue can’t even comprehend some days. He gets up and gets up and gets up again. Unstoppable.

“I have some ideas, if you’re open to them,” says Bowlan. “I’d love to help. There’s lots of people who would.”

“We can be a handful,” laughs Jackie. “We actually have two other siblings at home, and Schneep hasn’t spoken in weeks. Since Anti died. We don’t know why. I’m worried he was oxygen-deprived and just… his brain… we’re a handful.”

“Okay. I understand. Way I see it, we can take some definite steps, yeah? I’d like you all to come in for a check-up. I’d be happy to do it during my office hours, does that sound alright? Get all caught up on shots, check on everyone’s diets, everything. If it needs to be pro bono then it will be pro bono. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” says Jackie, unable to stop himself crying now, tears racing down his face. “Yeah, yes please.”

“And your brother who’s not been talking, I’ll set him up with our best neurologist and we’ll get a brain scan and such done. And I think the lot of you should talk to our social worker. Knows all the resources for people who are down on the luck and we can do some mental health assessments and things like that, okay?”

Blue’s just staring numbly down at his plate, overwhelmed.

“Once you have a place to live set up and Kayden’s a little healthier – ”

“It’s JJ,” Blue interrupts him shakily. “His real name… it’s JJ.”

He doesn’t know why he said it. He just felt like he needed to know. JJ. But Ryan seems to get it, just gazing at him for a moment and then nodding, falling quiet and taking a sip of his drink.

“We’ll get everything all set up, okay?” he says. “It’ll take time and effort and there will probably be a lot of follow-up treatment and such. But we’ll do whatever we can to get it done. I just want you to stay in touch with us a little, how’s that? If I can’t see you regularly, or at least Kayden, then I will have to call Adult Protective Services.”

“No, I understand,” chokes Jackie. “I’d be happy to… to stay in touch. To have someone… to not be…”

To not be alone in all this. To not feel so lost and helpless. To not have to hide everything from everyone. For once. For once.

It’s like running in the forest for the first time again.

Jackie wants to thank him, but he doesn’t even know how to start.

“Is there anything else you need? Is there anything I can do?”

Anonymous asked: Holy shit, Chase are you okay?! We forgot to tell you in this timeline- We had a message from Anti he left on the cameras. He said he did something to Dok, left scars that won't soon fade. We suspected it was something magical.

Chase groans, turning over on his side.

“Ow,” he mutters. “Oh, shit, what - ?”

He jolts upright, cheeks flushed pink, and shoves you rapidly away.

“No, we’re good, we’re good, I’m good,” he chokes, staggering to his feet, one hand still on his head. “No, I’m okay, I…”

His voice shakes and then gives out, and he’s curled in on himself over the coffee table, sobbing in earnest.

“Will you please tell someone to come back?” he cries. “I need a break, I need a break! I don’t even remember half the time anymore, I don’t know what’s happening, I don’t remember how to get to the hospital. I don’t want to be alone with whatever’s left of him right now, fuck! He’s still in my head… he’s still, I’m just…”

Henrik, a little tense himself, nonetheless scoots over towards Chase, looking at him, hands faintly outstretched. Chase grips his hands and cries over him, squeezing at his palms. “That wasn’t you, right, Dok? That wasn’t you. I’m sorry I can’t pull either of us out of this. I’m sorry.”

Anonymous asked: Chase, amata, sunshine. You are doing every single thing you can. Don't talk about "not being able to pull you out." That is not your job, you aren't reclused to being a savior just because your brothers are hurting. Look at you, man. You're hurting too. You're in just as much pain as the others. Work together to make things feel better, don't isolate yourself. Your brothers can help with the memory issues and pain, and you can work to make it easier on both you and Henrik. Things will work out.

“I can’t be in pain, it’s his turn, we have to take shifts…”

The nonsense of his perspective has been buried over a long history of taking turns taking care of each other. He hugs Henrik to his chest, burying his face in his shoulder, and Henrik sits there like a cat which has not yet decided how it feels about hugs.

“I think something’s wrong with me,” whimpers Chase. “I keep getting so confused and dizzy.”

Henrik hugs him back a little. He stills and hides in his twin’s shoulder, relieved.

“I’m sorry I’m crying, Deutsch, I’m here…”

Anonymous asked: Jackie, Blue, one of you might need to get home. Chase and Henrik aren't having a good time. Some freaky shit like hypnotism just happened between the two of them. Chase really needs a break to rest.

“Shit,” Blue curses, getting to his feet. “Um, Jackie, is it good if I - ”

“Yeah, go, I’ll stay with JJ. And I’ll call to get us into a hotel tonight.”

“Oh, thank God. Okay, I’m heading home. Doctor Bowlan, listen - ”

The old man smiles patiently at him, raising his eyebrows.

“Um, thank you,” Blue stutters.

“Get some sandwiches for your brothers,” offers the doctor, handing him a few bills. “I’m guessing they’re as thin as you are.”

Blue can’t help but smile, clutching the bills and turning to race away.

“My Schneep’s probably like you when he’s feeling well,” says Jackie, scooping up the last of his chips. “Like a cool doctor, you know? And rich.”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah.”

[antaxzantax]

Umbrella Pharmaceuticals - Chapter 27

On a warm, clear morning in June, Alexia and Alfred walked hand in hand along their father. Alexander had warned them that when they were out on the streets, alone or together, they were never to be separated. They were not to trust strangers or enter unfamiliar places. Alfred understood the warning, but not its gravity. He knew about kidnappings and child abusers, but he thought such things only happened to poor children. Until a few days ago, when he went to an art gallery with his cousins, Alexia told him that they too were in danger.

They were looking at a painting of a lonely young woman reaching out towards a house in the distance. Alfred was fascinated by the desolation of the scene. She is helpless, Alexia whispered as they held hands, helpless like us. Alfred asked why, and Alexia replied that it was because they were so small. Alexia's simple answer gave him a surge of sudden self-awareness and he tightened his grip. Alexia moaned and pulled her hand away, but Alfred immediately grabbed her again. Alexia moaned again, feigning anger. Alfred knew that Alexia was upset because she always raised her eyebrows in a very strange way. The expressiveness of her eyebrows contrasted with the relative expressionlessness of her face that he had become accustomed to seeing in his sister and father. To ease the situation, he lowered his force. Alexia's eyebrows returned to their original position, and both twins walked to the next work; to an indeterminate place next to their father and Oswell.

With no better entertainment, both were distracted by watching the indistinguishable insects that flitted along the roadside, around a thin row of bushes that flourished in the lee of a high, stony wall. From time to time, Alexia would point her hand or head at a bug she recognised to tell him a curiosity. Oswell noted that her knowledge was encyclopaedic and joked with Alexander that Alexia might run for prime minister and compete against Thatcher[1] for Downing Street[2]. The elders began to talk about Thatcher.

“I spoke to Mike last night. One million for the pre-campaign and two million for the campaign," said Alexander.

Oswell lit a cigar from his jacket.

“My money is in your hands, Sasha. Do whatever you consider because I trust your family talent to get people to vote for the right party. Is there any word on voting intentions?”

“The Institute has sent me some election polls and it looks like it is; that the scales are tipping towards us.” Alexander glanced at his children, who were crouched around a flower pot.

“Good.” Oswell exhaled a thick breath of humour. “I need Thatcher in government. I need her new economic policy. Without her, we won't make our business much more profitable.”

“What did James tell you?”

“He stays at the training centre. The course I invented has worked and we already have enough demand to set up new editions in more picturesque locations and on our continent.”

“Alexia, don't pull up the plant!” Alexander ordered in Dutch.

“I just wanted to show Alfred the roots," Alexia explained uncompromisingly in the same language.

“Alexia, show your brother the plant without weeding a garden that is not yours," Alexander replied in English.

Oswell laughed.

“Well, well. I'd better not take up any more of your time, lest the young lady make her own floral Guernica in an oversight.” He threw the cigar to the ground and put it out with the toe of his shoe.

“I'm sorry. We were talking about the training courses.”

“I just had to tell you that I've decided to hire a couple of beardless youngsters as heads of research for my lab at the country house in Raccoon City. They're both from James' class.”

“Are you sure?”

“Why not? We need new blood. Kids willing to sell their asses for a decent salary in exchange for living with their mouths shut. Besides, we've run out of reliable people. Bailey is still in Africa and the rest are concentrated in Bonn. We need to start thinking about who and how we're going to hire the new batch of employees to serve at the Paris headquarters. Or do we?”

“I'll put Rachel in touch with the Institute to work on confidentiality contracts and profiling.”

“We need more people and Thatcher has to win. I don't like the way the latest round of T-virus research is going.”

Alexia pushed aside a patch of earth to reveal the roots of an orchid to her brother. Their father didn't seem to be paying attention, so they dug a little deeper and inadvertently pulled out half of the root bundle. In trying to reposition the stem, Alexia was knocked off balance and collided with Alfred. They both fell backwards onto the ground. They heard footsteps behind them.

“Alfred. Alexia.” Alexander named them behind his back.

They both stood up passively. Oswell smiled in amusement.

“Don't be too hard on them, Sasha. They're just little sissies. It's the destiny of the little brats to disregard their father.” Oswell winked.

“Put the plant back," he resolved without further consequence. “They know exactly what they're doing," he muttered.

“Cursed be the one who ignores the meaning of his actions.”

[1] Margaret Thatcher, elected Prime Minister of the United Kingdom in 1979 for the Conservative Party.

[2] 10 Downing Street in London. Official residence of the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom.

[plutomarigold]

Guess what time it is! THAT'S RIGHT! It's LSsmp×TMA AU bullshit time

(Zam edition)

He needed a job asap after he "impulsively dropped out" of college (he got kicked out but he won't admit that) so when he sees an ad for an archive assistant post at the Leviathan Institute he's like "COUNT ME IN!"

He works in the archive for a bit but never actually /meets/ the archivist. He always thought the archivist was some recluse creepy guy but he didn't do anything to actually get answers.

It takes him exactly 2 months to accidentally walk in on Mapicc and Ro taking about some part of their plan and he is 5 seconds away from getting burned alive when Ro just tells him to go home. He goes home and,,, finds out some stuff,,,

*spongebob narrator voices* 5 MONTHS LATER

He discovers the Leviathan's actual motives and, after going to Ro's office and demanding that he wants out, he doesn't want to be part of this anymore and he doesn't want to help them in any way shape or form, Ro tells him that he is bound to the institute and if he tries to leave they WILL find him.

Zam's stubborn ok so he /researches/. He reads every document from the archive he can get his hands on, he look into deaths associated with the institute, and most importantly, he talks to Spoke (Spoke is Parrot's blind spot, they have an /old/ arrangement, but that's for another time). Spoke tells him he has an "acquaintance" that can help him. And that's how Zam meets Ash.

Their first meeting is,,, interesting (i might elaborate on it later), but Zam gets his answers and that's all that matters.

**** blood and some uncomfortable shit for the next part

Zam runs home as fast as possible and gets a screwdriver that one of his neighbours landed to him and he shoves it in his right eye. He screams and cries but keeps going. He takes to out of his eye and is barely able to do the same with his left eye. It was dumb, and impulsive, he could've though about it more beforehand, but what was done was done, and now he was free.

**** gross part over

He panics instantly. He considers going to Pangi, his best friend and roommate from college, but he doesn't want to put him in danger so in his panic he runs.

He ends up in a forest all beaten and bruised, but he keeps running. It feels like he's beeing pulled to something so he keeps going. Because he's blind now he has no idea where he is, he just knows that he hears leaves and twigs snapping under his feet so when his foot suddenly hits something that's oddly shaped like a stait he thinks he found a place to stay for a bit. As he climbs what he assumes are stairs his body start moveing on it's own until, as he passes the door frame his body moves completely on it's own.

He doesn't know how long he wanders the halls of the hotel for, he doesn't understand how he's still alive. Surely he would've died from blood loss a long time ago, dehydration or exhaustion even. But here he is. After what feels like centuries of wondering the almost endless halls he finally realise what's happening and he feels fucking STUPID.

How hasn't he realised this earlier? He spent so much fucking time in that goddamn institute learning, researching juts to not recognise one of Them? He feels so fucking dumb.

He welcomes It after he realise his mistake and It takes him as soon as he lets It. He has one job now, tahe the new guest to they rooms, him personally condemning the to their eternity.

He keeps doing this until one day he hears voices in the distance. Strange. People usually come here Alone. Well. More fun for him.

[rockislandadultreads]

Read-Alike Friday: Demon Copperhead by Barbara Kingsolver

Demon Copperhead by Barbara Kingsolver

Set in the mountains of southern Appalachia, this is the story of a boy born to a teenaged single mother in a single-wide trailer, with no assets beyond his dead father's good looks and copper-colored hair, a caustic wit, and a fierce talent for survival. In a plot that never pauses for breath, relayed in his own unsparing voice, he braves the modern perils of foster care, child labor, derelict schools, athletic success, addiction, disastrous loves, and crushing losses. Through all of it, he reckons with his own invisibility in a popular culture where even the superheroes have abandoned rural people in favor of cities.

Many generations ago, Charles Dickens wrote David Copperfield from his experience as a survivor of institutional poverty and its damages to children in his society. Those problems have yet to be solved in ours. Dickens is not a prerequisite for readers of this novel, but he provided its inspiration. In transposing a Victorian epic novel to the contemporary American South, Barbara Kingsolver enlists Dickens' anger and compassion, and above all, his faith in the transformative powers of a good story. Demon Copperhead speaks for a new generation of lost boys, and all those born into beautiful, cursed places they can't imagine leaving behind.

Now is Not the Time to Panic by Kevin Wilson

Sixteen-year-old Frankie Budge—aspiring writer, indifferent student, offbeat loner—is determined to make it through yet another sad summer in Coalfield, Tennessee, when she meets Zeke, a talented artist who has just moved into his grandmother’s unhappy house and who is as lonely and awkward as Frankie is. Romantic and creative sparks begin to fly, and when the two jointly make an unsigned poster, shot through with an enigmatic phrase, it becomes unforgettable to anyone who sees it. The edge is a shantytown filled with gold seekers. We are fugitives, and the law is skinny with hunger for us.

The posters begin appearing everywhere, and people wonder who is behind them. Satanists, kidnappers—the rumors won’t stop, and soon the mystery has dangerous repercussions that spread far beyond the town. The art that brought Frankie and Zeke together now threatens to tear them apart.

Twenty years later, Frances Eleanor Budge—famous author, mom to a wonderful daughter, wife to a loving husband—gets a call that threatens to upend everything: a journalist named Mazzy Brower is writing a story about the Coalfield Panic of 1996. Might Frances know something about that? And will what she knows destroy the life she’s so carefully built?

Shuggie Bain by Douglas Stuart

Shuggie's mother Agnes walks a wayward path: she is Shuggie's guiding light but a burden for him and his siblings. She dreams of a house with its own front door while she flicks through the pages of the Freemans catalogue, ordering a little happiness on credit, anything to brighten up her grey life. Married to a philandering taxi-driver husband, Agnes keeps her pride by looking good--her beehive, make-up, and pearly-white false teeth offer a glamourous image of a Glaswegian Elizabeth Taylor. But under the surface, Agnes finds increasing solace in drink, and she drains away the lion's share of each week's benefits--all the family has to live on--on cans of extra-strong lager hidden in handbags and poured into tea mugs.

Agnes's older children find their own ways to get a safe distance from their mother, abandoning Shuggie to care for her as she swings between alcoholic binges and sobriety. Shuggie is meanwhile struggling to somehow become the normal boy he desperately longs to be, but everyone has realized that he is "no right," a boy with a secret that all but him can see. Agnes is supportive of her son, but her addiction has the power to eclipse everyone close to her--even her beloved Shuggie.

Night of the Living Rez by Morgan Talty

In twelve striking, luminescent stories, author Morgan Talty—with searing humor, abiding compassion, and deep insight—breathes life into tales of family and community bonds as they struggle with a painful past and an uncertain future. A boy unearths a jar that holds an old curse, which sets into motion his family’s unraveling; a man, while trying to swindle some pot from a dealer, discovers a friend passed out in the woods, his hair frozen into the snow; a grandmother suffering from Alzheimer’s projects the past onto her grandson, and thinks he is her dead brother come back to life; and two friends, inspired by Antiques Roadshow, attempt to rob the tribal museum for valuable root clubs. 

In a collection that examines the consequences and merits of inheritance, Night of the Living Rez is an unforgettable portrayal of a Native community and marks the arrival of a standout talent in contemporary fiction.

The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt

Aged thirteen, Theo Decker, son of a devoted mother and a reckless, largely absent father, survives an accident that otherwise tears his life apart. Alone and rudderless in New York, he is taken in by the family of a wealthy friend. He is tormented by an unbearable longing for his mother, and down the years clings to the thing that most reminds him of her: a small, strangely captivating painting that ultimately draws him into the criminal underworld. As he grows up, Theo learns to glide between the drawing rooms of the rich and the dusty antiques store where he works. He is alienated and in love - and his talisman, the painting, places him at the centre of a narrowing, ever more dangerous circle.

The Goldfinch is a haunted odyssey through present-day America and a drama of enthralling power. Combining unforgettably vivid characters and thrilling suspense, it is a beautiful, addictive triumph - a sweeping story of loss and obsession, of survival and self-invention, of the deepest mysteries of love, identity and fate.