2025-04-05 15:05:53 ¶ ●

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Thinks about au jon/canon jon too hard and has to go lie down. I need au jon being so awful for him and so genuinely afraid of him being hurt or starving. I need him being furiously protective of this other version of himself and extremely possessive of him. I need him only willing to share him with his dad. I need him to be manipulative and cruel and hold him in his arms as he shakes with guilt and I need them to have horrible toxic sex about it. I need au jon riding him and telling him how useful he is how perfect his new dog is, he promises him he'll take such good care of him he'll have him well trained he'll make sure he gets all the love and affection he could ever want. I need the dynamic between au jon canon jon and Jonah to be sooo fucked up. I need au jon saying "well, you're family now. So I'd prefer if you DIDNT starve to death." All flippantly. I need au jon taking his brother in his brand new bed, all nice and comfy and with lots of stuffed animals made just to suit his tastes, I need him showing him just how good being a monster can feel. I need him slowly dragging him into their pre existing family dynamic. The youngest but also the pet. Do u get it. They're a little fucked up. OK. I just think it could be fun. Also ohhh my god the canon jon and au Jonah could be so fucked up and fun. They should be so mean to him sometimes <33 they should baby him against his will until he's all cute and melted and letting himself be treated like he's so much smaller than he is I need them to baby him. OK.

- skiesandcandy

@skiesandcandy

Finally I respond to this I literally have been trying since you sent it(because I had ideas but getting it written was a fight).

Please enjoy, no Elias yet, he’s haunting the narrative though, under the cut because it got long. Also having two characters with the same name makes things hard _-_.

“No more please,” Jon could feel tears trickling down his cheeks as his other self, and wasn’t that a weird thought, finished narrating another gruesome tale. It was the third one he had read, and while it wasn’t the all you can eat buffet of terror that the apocalypse had been, it was more than he had for lack of a better word, eaten, since he left. He couldn’t do much more than plead that the other him not pick up another, seeing as he was currently restrained. He was fairly certain he had been drugged as well, which would explain why he was finding it so hard to think, though maybe he was just having a panic attack.

“But you need to eat Jon, and since you won’t feed yourself, I’ve had to resort to more well…drastic measures.” The inflection the other him put on the words, so similar to Elias, made Jon shudder, though only some of it was in horror. Still he gave a small sigh of relief as Jonathan set aside the stack seemingly finished reading.

It was easier to just think of himself as Jon and this mirror Jonathan, he had considered Archivist but well that was a touchy subject, so full name it was.

“I can’t have you starving, but it’s okay I’ll take care of you.” Jonathan smiled and reached out lightly stroking his hair, gentle as though he hadn’t drugged and restrained him, and the force fed him, as though he wasn’t the cause of Jon’s distress.

“I don’t-,” Jon’s tongue felt heavy in his mouth, and he struggled to speak, slurring the few words he managed. Not that he managed to say much as Jonathan shoved two fingers into his mouth, pressing down on his tongue, choking him. They withdrew quickly, before he could try to bite, leaving him spluttering a bit of drool leaking out the side of his mouth. His other self practically loomed over him now, and while he tried to keep his face neutral, Jon could read the fascination in his own expression.

“Sorry, I’m usually not on this side of things,” Jon tried to ask him what he meant by that or at least what he had done to him, only to be interrupted again as Jonathan’s lips were pressed against his. Part of his brain, the part that constantly craved any sort of touch, told him to lean into this, while the more rational part was horrified, frozen even as Jonathan broke their kiss.

“Wh-what?” Jon whimpered as he tried to move, but his restraints held strong, Jonathan didn’t answer instead climbing into the bed not breaking eye contact, Jon wasn’t sure he was even blinking. It felt invasive, like he could see all of Jon, though the gentle look in his eyes at least made it feel like he wasn’t found wanting.

“What are you doing?” Jon was so surprised he was finally able to get a sentence out, that he didn’t taste the static lacing his words, until Jonathan shuddered. He didn’t even get a chance to apologize before Jonathan was kissing him once more, shifting so he was now straddling him pressing close his eyes still wide open. Jon hadn’t paid much attention to what Jonathan was wearing, caught up in the horror of listening to the forced buffet, but he could feel bare skin pressed against his thighs, and a weight that wasn’t flesh pressed against his stomach. Jon’s thoughts shuddered to a halt at that, though the touch starved part of him gave a little cheer.

Seemingly unaware of his internal struggles Jonathan deepened the kiss, practically shoving his tongue down his throat, before pulling away. It left them both panting, and Jon could see Jonathan’s pupils were blown wide, echoed by the smattering that had open up on his cheek, all staring at Jon

“Making sure you don’t starve,” Jonathan didn’t seem to actually be forced to answer, just willing to. His smile was so genuine, he actually seemed happy that Jon had almost compelled him even if it was an accident. Maybe that was all Jonathan wanted, proof that Jon was gaining his strength back. Maybe he would let him up now, untie him and they could talk about boundaries. Jon really didn’t believe that though.

“You’re already looking better,” Jon yelped as he felt Jonathan’s hands squeeze gently at the hollow space just above his hipbones. A frown crossed his face, though it seemed to be one of concern rather than anything negative. “Though I think we’ll need to get you feeding more regularly, add a live statement into rotation. Maybe I’ll have dad draw up a schedule.”

“I don’t-,” Jon started to object, he was perfectly capable of feeding himself, he wasn’t some pet, and he certainly didn’t need a schedule. Another squeeze, only this time to his chest, had Jon’s words choking off as he sputtered. The other him smirked, the expression an odd combination of his own and Elias, as he continued to knead at his tits, clearly enjoying his reaction. Jon couldn’t hold back a soft moan, it was a lot, and with his hands still bound there was nothing for him to do but take it.

“You need to learn to take what’s given to you, now be a good boy,” the inflection sounded a bit odd to his ears, as though Jonathan was quoting someone, Jon didn’t really need three guesses as to who. Not that it mattered, Jonathan clearly had a plan for how things were going, and Jon didn’t get a say.

Jonathan reached past his head, picking up a bottle that Jon had not seen till now, understandable considering the distractions. Jon could pretend he didn’t recognize lube when he saw it, but well he didn’t think lying to himself in this situation was helpful.

“Look you don’t have-,” Jon was getting really sick of being interrupted, but the cold touch of lubricant covered fingers to his clit was a lot. Jonathan at least looked apologetic, rubbing his hands to warm it up, before pressing back against the sensitive nub. Jon really should have considered the implication of being fondled by someone who probably knew exactly what you liked. The implication being that Jon was already on the cusp of an orgasm as Jonathan parted his hair to tease his clit with on hand, while the other tugged at his nipples, making his back arch.

“It’s always easier when someone else does this to us isn’t it?” Jon tried to glare but the effect was probably ruined by his moans as Jonathan shoved two fingers into his cunt, the stretch stung slightly, which was exactly how he liked it. Really it should be considered cheating. “Just relax, I know what we like.”

This was certainly demonstrated as Jonathan seemed to unerringly press against the spot inside his cunt that had him seeing stars. Fingers spreading, stretching him open as he added a third finger, his thumb digging slightly to roughly into his clit. That combined with the new sensation of teeth teasing one of his nipples had him clenching down, falling right over the edge with whorish moan, leaving slick dripping down his thighs.

Going limp Jon whimpered the teasing at his pussy didn’t stop, four fingers now, a stretch even after his orgasm. He could feel his walls fluttering as he was pushed past content into overstimulation as the other him didn’t seem keen to let up, forcing another weak orgasm, though his moan was much closer to a sigh. As his whole body relaxed, he felt disconnected, he knows something about this was wrong, but it’s so hard to think.

Jonathan’s fingers withdrew, only to be replaced but something inorganic, and much thicker than fingers pressing inside. Ah right, Jon had forgotten about that. Thoughts became difficult as he was speared open, the strap shoving making Jon keen, it was so much more than he was really ready to take. There was no give, just a rigid length inside him, pressing against the wall of his cunt. God he wished he could grab onto something anything, his senses were truly overwhelmed as Jonathan began thrusting, each thrust brushing against his clit making his hips twitch. At least he could move his legs, wrapping them around his other self as best he could with his movement.

“You’re mine, you can’t starve yourself, not anymore,” The words were whispered before Jonathan’s teeth clenched down on his throat, only barely not breaking skin. It was enough to send Jon over the edge for the third time, legs locking around him keeping Jonathan inside, as he rode it out.

As the after shocks faded away Jonathan pulled out, he felt floaty, as though his body was no longer there, but also he could feel every cell. He wasn’t hungry, he was content, it was almost foreign. His eyes were closed, letting the content feeling flow through him, later he could be horrified, but for now he could just be. He didn’t fight as he was shifted down the bed, no longer propped up, even his hands were released, the gentle rubbing at where the ropes had held him almost had him crying.

“Just one more thing.” Jon mumbled sleepily in response, hearing a thump, on one side of the bed, realizing it was the strap and harness as he found his mouth now pressed into thick wiry hair. Part of him considered biting, but it was quiet, tucked away with the guilt and horror he’d no doubt feel later. Instead he did his best, as tired as he was, and it wasn’t long before Jonathan’s legs were clenching around him, riding out his orgasm before sliding off with a groan, to lay beside him panting softly.

“Mine,” Jonathan’s voice was soft, barely loud enough to hear, and Jon let himself be pulled close. It felt so nice to curl up against someone, even if later he’ll hate himself, for now he was content to curl up in his other self’s arms, resting his head on his chest. Deciding to push those implications, and cleanup, off for a bit he let himself drift off, ignoring the extra eyes opening up to stare at him with an emotion he was not ready to face.

2025-04-08 0:45:55 ¶ ●

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Thought about corruption jon again and lost my mind. I just think it'd be hot and fun if jon was the one getting trapped in his apartment hearing that song so loud and pretty and maybe he's not very good with keeping out worms and maybe he has an Unusual reaction to feeling the first of them start to burrow. Maybe him slowly getting overcome over the span of a few weeks. Maybe him all cute and soaked palming himself right outside the door so be can hear that beautiful beautiful song,,, eyes so wide and desperate and ever since he finally managed to get those works out he's been so itchy again. He didn't realize the itch was soothed. Jon all itchy and his body reacting to things it shouldn't. Maybe Jane should talk to him through the door way. Maybe he should be soaking wet slumped against the door whimpering. Maybe he should gasp out with gritted teeth why does it ITCH. Maybe. Maybe....I understand the themes I swear. I am just horny. And I am thinking about jon presenting himself to an empty room. Body responding to the strange feeling of being consumed by something that loves him in the only way that makes some sense. Just. Jon whimpering and Jane won't leave, not when she knows they're breaking him. Not when it's so clearly only a matter of time.

- skiesandcandy

@skiesandcandy I’m so normal about corruption Jon

Jon knew he had kept all the worms out, he was safe.

Only if he had kept all the worms out why did he itch? Why did the phantom feeling of something crawling inside him keep him from properly sleeping except when he simply passed out? More importantly, why did it feel good?

The song was so loud, so beautiful, calling to him, telling him he’d be safe, and loved and happy. Wouldn’t he like to have a family that wouldn’t leave him? A family that always needed him? To have them inside him, to nurture them. It pulled him forward till he was leaning against the door, to hear better to listen, he wouldn’t open it, no he just needed to hear.

He was so tired, he couldn’t sleep properly, waking up and feeling the phantom crawling after only the briefest sleep. He didn’t have any food left, it wasn’t like he ate at home much so the only thing left was food that had gone bad. He could see the mold inching its way through the bread on his counter, would that be him soon? Either the worms would get in, or he’d starve and either way something was going to be crawling through him. Tunneling through skin and muscle till only his bones were left, and then those would be broken down too till no one remembered him.

Hope had been the only thing keeping him from opening the door, hope that someone would notice, would come save him. Surely someone in his life cared? Only as the days went on and his food dwindled to nothing, no one had come. His only companion the humming and knocking from the front door.

If he pressed his ear against the door the song was so loud, enveloping him, interrupted only by the knocking, which always jarred him a bit, but the knocking was softer now. Jon found himself humming along, his own clumsy mimicking not as beautiful or as warm as the actual song, but he tried. The knocking stopped completely, but he took no notice as the song grew louder. There were words now, was Jane talking to him? She hadn’t said anything since trapping him, but the words were soft and gentle, twining with the music, telling him to open the door, to come out, to let the little ones crawl inside.

Jon felt heat curl in his gut, he wanted that, wanted it so badly. The itch inside him was lessened, replaced by something else, something he couldn’t quite name. He had thought the itch was the worms but hadn’t he always felt it? Almost unconsciously his hand slid down, sliding into his clothes to press against hismself, easy access in just joggers and an oversized shirt. He didn’t want to waste what little energy he had bothering with more professional clothing, no one was around to see him anyway.

He was soaked already, but it felt so good, it usually didn’t, not when he was alone. He could never see the point, but now, now his hand moved on its own, and soon he had two fingered inside, and oh it felt so good as the song pressed around him. Only the itch was back, it hurt, no please, it had been so soothing, the itch he had felt in his bones, no longer there tormenting him. He whined through gritted teeth, begging the voice on the other side of the door, the one that whispered soothing words to make it stop.

He stopped himself from grabbing the doorknob with his free hand only barely. His mind was screaming at him to let her in, to let himself have what he wanted for so long. His other hand didn’t stop, trying to soothe the ache, it was inside him, how else cold he?

He heard a laugh from outside, sounding wet somehow, before the voice returned. It crooned at him, little archivist, please come out, let us be your family. The words turned mocking, telling him they knew he would break, it was only a matter of time.

Jon whimpered, trying to keep his moans quiet as he pressed deeper inside himself. It was a poor copy of how deep the works would bury, would core him open. He wanted something inside, but he would have to move from the door, and the song. So instead he just kept going stretching himself open, half-presenting to the audience behind the door. When he finally managed to find the spot inside himself that made his nerves sing he was a mess, drooling and panting, little whines bubbling out his throat in time with the song.

So worked up he hadn’t noticed his movements had moved one of the washcloths he had blocked the crease in the door with. Just enough for one fat wriggling worm to slide through, the pain was sharp as it bit into his leg, vanishing inside before he could do much more than scream. He could see it eating away at his muscles, sliding deeper and deeper, the song hitting a crescendo. There was nothing he could do as more poured through the gap, he hadn’t managed to stop one, what could he do against a hundred. Still his hand didn’t leave his cunt, his whole body shaking. They were inside, each little mouth sliding through him as they nestled into his very bones, he was their home.

His other hand occupied, his free hand undid the lock on the door, it was a stretch, his legs too weak to lift him, blood pooling around him. He slumped against the wall letting it swing open, he was crying, but it didn’t hurt anymore, the only thing he could feel was pleasure, as the little bodies wiggled through him. Gentle hands riddled with holes wrapped around his wrist, shoving his fingers deeper into himself. He could feel more holes opening across his chest where the worms had eaten through from Jane into him as she held him, whispering that he was safe now, that he’d make such a good home. His last coherent feeling as he came head buried into Jane’s shoulder was the overwhelming sensation of being wanted, before his consciousness faded.

2025-04-27 11:17:00 ¶ ●

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read all your stories on ao3 and was wondering if you have any thoughts on desolation! Tim with Jon? because Jon heals fast and Tim likes to burn him

Oh I have very many thoughts, please enjoy whatever this monstrosity I managed to write. Also I think Tim should get to feed on Jon and Jon should get to feed on Tim because mutual self destruction is fun. Can you make fourth degree burns sexy? Today we find out.

The first time Tim had burned him it had been an accident, growing pains with his new abilities. He had apologized, even as Jon’s skin immediately returned to its former state. Only it kept happening, little touches, nothing even close to the damage Jude had done. Burning fingertips that left little round burns, like someone was putting cigarettes out on his arm. Jon didn’t mind it much, but well he was curious, so finally he decided he had to ask Tim as he was leaving his office.

“Are you doing this on purpose?” It was meant to be lighthearted, just a joke, but too late Jon heard the static on his tongue.

“Yes,” Tim’s response was too fast to be anything but a product of compulsion. His expression morphing from horror, to anger as he continued speaking, clearly trying to fight it. “It takes the edge off the hunger, and it’s not like you’ll stop me.”

“Sorry I di-,” Jon broke off into a yelp as Tim shoved him back pinning him between his body and the desk. Jon was reminded again how much taller than him Tim was, as he practically loomed over him, eyes flickering with an unnatural glow.

“I want to do so much worse to you,” Jon could feel the heat radiating off Tim as the words continued to be pulled out. Part of Jon was terrified, the other was feasting on every word he ripped from Tim, it wasn’t exactly a statement, but the Eye still seemed pleased. “I think it would be better sometimes, at least then I’m not hurting an innocent person, and it’s not like I could do anything permanent.”

Jon couldn’t even argue that point, it was true, Jon was a monster, and better him than someone who couldn’t heal. That fact didn’t stop him from whimpering as Tim ran a burning finger down his cheek, even as he couldn’t look away. Part of him wanted to flee, to run, but instead all Jon could do was continue listening, even as his eyes watered in pain he couldn’t stop staring.

“And you would let me wouldn’t you? You’d probably like it. Sometimes I wonder if you make me angry on purpose, just so I’ll snap. ” Jon managed to hold back a yelp as he was lifted, so he was now seated on top of his desk, it didn’t correct the height disparity much. If his heart still beat Jon wondered if it would be pounding in fear, or anticipation. “I could burn you down to your bones, and you’d just keep watching.”

With that last sentence Tim snapped out of it his eyes narrowing, the unnatural glow was still there, but it seemed his pseudo statement was over. Jon resisted the urge to dig further to know more, Tim still had statements that Jon hadn’t taken yet. It was like taking a bite of a meal, then being whisked away from the table before you had even swallowed.

“What the fuck boss?” Jon flinched, apologies flooding onto his tongue, but he was almost scared to speak, worried he’d compel him. Tim didn’t let him sort through his thoughts grabbing him by his shoulders and shaking him. He looked horrified and angry again, but underneath it all Jon could now see the hunger burning beneath everything.

“You could,” Jon was careful to keep his words static free as he stared up at Tim, he wanted to help, needed to do something. But the last thing he needed was to compel him again, who knew how’d he react. Jon felt like his own words were being pulled out now, the Eye urging him on, feeding his own curiosity. “Use me for that I mean, let me help.”

“You’re insane,” Tim muttered but didn’t let go, and Jon could feel the heat spreading from Tim’s grip on his shoulders, still bearable, more like a mild sunburn. Painful, but nothing compared to most of what he had experienced recently, nothing that would fill the emptiness of Tim’s hunger was anything like his own. Jon could practically see the thoughts churning behind Tim’s eyes, not literally, the Eye didn’t seem to want to impart that information, but it was clear Tim was going to refuse, to run away, and Jon, and the Eye, couldn’t have that.

“Hurt me Tim come on,” Jon grabbed onto the front of Tim’s shirt with his burned hand, pulling him closer. He barely managed to fight back the static itching the back of his throat. “It’s not like I haven’t been burned before.”

“God you’re impossible,” Tim released his shoulders to instead take his face in his hands. The contact with bare skin was a lot more painful than his shoulders had been, though still nothing worse than a first degree. If he could see his face he wondered if it made him look like he was blushing as Tim’s thumbs lightly stroked his cheeks leaving a stripe of pain.

Jon would have responded, maybe to antagonize him more, to push him to lose his temper. He was terrified, but the feeling was almost drowned out by just how much he needed to know what would happen. Only as he opened his mouth Tim chose to lean forward sealing his lips over his. If his hands had been warm his lips were searing, it hurt, and Jon tried to pull away immediately a scream bubbling up, but he was held tightly. His scream turned to a choked off whimper into Tim’s mouth as the part of him that remembered that this was a bad idea suddenly was no longer drowned out by curiosity.

Jon could feel his skin start to blister, a second degree burn the Eye offered as tears started to flow down his cheeks, sizzling away as the water contacted Tim’s skin. That seemed to get his attention as he pulled back, releasing his face to change his grip to his waist instead, skin once more partially protected by cloth. Tim’s pupils were blown wide and Jon could see nothing but fire behind them, he could even see his reflection, the burns already healing, leaving him unharmed and panting with only the memory of pain.

“Does it hurt Boss?” Jon flinched as Tim’s hands slid beneath his shirt, bypassing the scant protection of the cloth. He didn’t seem to actually want an answer, digging his burning fingers into the smattering of worm scars in the space between his ribs and his hips. Jon not wanting to scream, not knowing if anyone would hear him in the rest of the institute immediately fastened his teeth into his hand, blocking any sound other than a muffled whimper. He could taste blood, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of fingers sliding through his skin like well, like a hot knife through butter.

The thought almost made him laugh, perhaps the pain had already made him a bit delirious. He wondered if the Eye could put back everything that was being destroyed as Tim’s hands sank deeper. He wasn’t bleeding, the heat searing any damaged vessels shut immediately. Jon had thought shaking Jude’s hand was the worst a burn could feel, but it had only hurt for a few moments until all the nerves in his hand were destroyed. Now though, now he could feel them repairing themselves as the heat passed over them, burning them away again as soon as they formed.

Jon was surprised he hadn’t passed out, but well the Eye clearly wanted to see what was happening, it wouldn’t let him close his eyes. It was a struggle for him to look down, to see just what Tim had done, but he knew he needed to see. He didn’t know what he had expected but the sight was certainly worse. His skin was blacked in places, though the rapid healing had those places sealing up again, crusting over, only to be seared again as Tim shifted his grip.

The sight of something white inside had him freezing, thoughts immediately flashing to Prentiss’s awful parasites, but no, that wasn’t larvae that had missed, that was the bone of his hip, skin peeled away like clay, as Tim’s thumb rested on the protrusion. Jon wondered if he’d have an indentation there as even the bone couldn’t stand up to the heat, his thumb sinking in, marking him. It didn’t hurt, there were no nerves there, but it still felt wrong, and that was the point the Eye seemed satisfied, no longer forcing Jon to stay conscious to watch his own pain.

Starting to lose his fight with consciousness he slumped forward into Tim, who caught him. Hands no longer buried inside him, now held his shoulders gently, the heat warm now and no longer burning. His nerves now seeing their chance started to not back together with flesh and bone, each second agony as his body erased any trace of what happened. Of course it wasn’t until he was fully healed that his eyes began to droop, making him feel every agonizing second as Tim held him close. Jon he felt a gentle hand press his sweat soaked hair out of his face, before feeling himself lifted up. He let his head rest against what he was fairly certain was Tim’s chest, no longer silent, but instead occupied by a steady heartbeat.

“Did it help?” His voice sounded cracked and painful, and if he weren’t on the edge of consciousness he would have probably asked for water. Jon flinched as he was jostled as Tim let out a short bark of laughter, before Jon felt himself being set onto something soft, probably the cot in document storage.

“Get some rest idiot,” Tim’s voice was softer than it had been since the stalking incident. Jon wanted to ask if he would stay with him, would just hold him for a bit, even if he was t getting anything out of it. But Jon bit off those words, he had no right to ask Tim for anything, especially not comfort.

“Fine,” Jon mumbled burying his face into his pillow as he finally let his consciousness fade. Tim’s footsteps as he left the room the last thing he heard before plunging into one of his victim’s nightmares,

2025-04-27 12:40:52 ¶ ●

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Oh no I'm gonna be thinking about jh forever now. Jon becoming progressively more and more spiral as she loses touch with reality...Jon who knows she should stop going into the corridors before it's too late but she doesn't want to, she's stubborn and she's curious and it's the only thing she has that feels good, Jon watching her reflection shift and change memorized and seething with envy because she wants it so bad. Jon sleeping in helens room for her more than she does in her actual dorm. Jon soooo hungry and prowling around her girlfriend's corridors for something nice to eat. Jon getting lost in her corridors recreationally. Always exploring them because they're always changing. Don't worry about how sharp her hands are, or about how all her bones look wrong, or about the fact her eyes are just Not Right, or about how her hair is all spirally, or about how her laugh hurts your ears, or about how she's clearly always looking at something that isn't there <3. Just. Jon unraveling rapidly <3 Helen having such a vice grip on her brain and having sooo much fun seeing what she can do to it. Maybe Helen should say what the HELL is it going to take for her to admit she wants this. Jon tells her to break her, in a rare moment of vulnerability, because can't she see she's sick of pretending too?? She's miserable and trapped and she wants out and she's tired of being human and she's so fucking guilty about it. And helen goes aight. Bet. College student having a mental breakdown over repressed emotions meet the physical embodiment of them. I'm sure she won't shed her humanity and become the happiest she's ever been while ruining peoples lives

-skiesandcandy

So turns out I have thoughts…look if Helen can’t make Jon into her cute little baby monster what the point. Jon should get to be a pretty little monster girl and toss her humanity aside as a treat,

@skiesandcandy

Jon wanted to crawl out of their skin, it wasn’t a new feeling, in fact it had become all too common lately. Sometimes when they went do enough into Helen’s corridors they could almost see the seams, places where skin could be peeled back, giving them a body that didn’t fit wrong. Jon considered calling for Helen, they had ended up deeper in the corridors than usual, following one of their twisted reflections, the ones that looked like Jon wanted to. Each time they caught a glimpse of their mirror selves their reflection would smile, mouth almost twisting right off her face, before beckoning them further.

Jon had finally collapsed muscles refusing to move any further, watching their reflection disappear this time seemingly to run deeper into the mirror instead of to a separate one, as they tried to crawl after her. Their fingers brushed against the blank surface, but the girl in the reflection had vanished completely. Jon wanted to sob, they hadn’t thought of why they were chasing that particular reflection. Maybe a small part thought that if they caught it something would happen, something that would make them the girl in the mirror.

It didn’t of course, they were the same as always, and they hated it. Sometimes they thought it would be better if they never made it back. They had already screwed up with their schooling, it was hard to pass a class when reality never seemed to stay still, and time seemed to jump and spin like wind chimes in a whirlwind.

It also didn’t help that it was so hungry, and not the normal type of hunger that could be solved with simple meal. No this was the type of hunger that made it feel like a monster, like something that should be put down to keep others safe. It shuddered remembering the first time it had realized that the feeling it had watching Helen feed wasn’t disgust, but instead was like the first bite of an extravagant meal, then the shame had nearly swallowed it, like a black pit.

Helen had laughed of course, the sound like knives in its ears, but comforted it still, curling her too long fingers around it, cradling it to her chest. It had cried saying it didn’t want to be a monster and Helen had crooned at it, had asked why being a monster was so terrible? Jon had tried to explain but its thoughts had twisted around each other. Helen hadn’t stopped pressing and pushing asking at what point was it better to just let go?

Jon wanted so much to let go, but they clung to their humanity, with bloody broken fingernails, because if they let go? Would they still be Jon? The tired snappy college student, who nobody really liked, and whispered behind their back? They didn’t want to be that person, but what of the person on the other side was worse? What if they changed and they still hated themselves?

“That’s what you’re going with?” Jon hadn’t noticed Helen until she was carding her fingers through their hair, somehow no longer on the floor but instead laying across her lap chin resting on the chair’s arm. Jon blinked and now they were pressed against her chest, their face buried into their too curly hair. “Better the devil you know? That’s why you’re clinging to such an ill fitting form?”

Jon was too tired to speak even if they could form sentences, instead they just nuzzled into Helen’s arms. Only Helen didn’t let them drift off cupping their chin to look into their eyes. Suddenly everything was sharp and painful and real and Jon could feel tears collecting in their eyes. They heard an anguished cry and only realized it was their own when Helen pressed their mouth closed.

“I’ve been so patient with you little one,” Helen’s grip on their hair was no longer gentle instead using it to keep them still as they forced them to look at her. “What will it take to stop hurting yourself? To just let go, and be what you want? To be my pretty little monster?”

Their other self in the mirrors were back staring at them from a thousand places, the twisted smile now a frown with eyes that weren’t right. Jon recoiled from the disappointed looks, even to their reflections they were disappointing.

“I wish I knew,” Jon snapped, their voice cracking as the last word came out more as a sob. “I hate this, I don’t want to be this anymore, I want to be her,” they gestured wildly about at their reflections, each now looking surprised, no longer frowning, but more…anticipative? “I want you to force me to break me and make me something better, dig into those seems and make me not feel like this anymore!”

The room was silent as Jon’s tirade came to an end, tapering off with a choked cry as they collapsed against Helen sobs racking their frame. They waited for Helen to decide finally that they weren’t worth it, to throw them from her corridors forever, one more person realizing they weren’t worth the trouble.

“Oh Jon,” Helen didn’t sound upset, instead her voice was a gentle croon in their ear. It wound through their brain, almost like a cat, until it noticed a stray thread tugging on the loose thought. Jon didn’t dare look at their skin, scared to see nothing change, but also scared to see the seams opening up. Jon could almost see their grip on the shreds of humanity they had left, slipping as their thoughts unraveled, “All you had to do was ask.”

Jon’s world was alight with confusion, it was as though the fabric that made them was unraveling, but only to wind with something else. Something that reminded them of Helen, but instead of doors, it tasted distinctly of mirrors. And wasn’t that about odd thought, their sense of self melting together and tasting of glass and hallways and Helen.

She felt lips on hers as Helen kissed her, tongue much longer than it should be winding down her throat, and she couldn’t breathe. Did she need to breathe? She wasn’t quite sure she had lungs anymore, that should terrify her right? Was she finally having her long awaited breakdown? She didn’t think breakdowns were supposed to be like this? We’re supposed to feel like too sharp hands prying her fingers out of her grip in her own humanity. Guilt falling away like a too big coat, why should she be guilty?

No one had ever tried to help her before Helen, and if she liked Jon as her little monster? Well why should she try to please anyone else. Part of her screamed that she should want to stay human for herself, but that part felt like it was being peeled off too be replaced with a sense of belonging.

She was pulled back to her body as Helen pulled away just enough to let her breathe again. She blinked up at Helen, knowing her eyes now glittered in unnatural jewel bright tones that spun like butterflies. She was pulled close feeling her skin fitting different than before. Whether it was just in her mind or a real physical change she didn’t know, it didn’t really matter.

“Such a lovely girl,” She wondered when her clothes had vanished, but that idle thought was pushed aside as she craved her neck to get a better look at herself in the mirror now in front of her with Helen at her back. A blush spread across her cheeks, only the color was all wrong, her smile twisting off her face like the reflection she had been chasing. Helen caressed her chest and Jon couldn’t help but make the most embarrassing mewling sounds which had Helen poking at her even more laughing at every new squeak she could yield. Eventually Jon could feel the energy that had flown through her ebbing and the hunger creeping back in and she could only whine, words bringing her but Helen seemed to know what she needed.

“My little monster let’s get you someone to eat, becoming can be rather exhausting after all.”