{PRISON CREW} ~why survive alone. when two were never meant to be split~ Most in the prison weren’t supposed to know they existed.Too rare.Too fragile. Too wild- yet beautiful in ways this place didn’t forgive.Trouble found them the way the sun finds the moon- inevitable,relentless..soft,until it burns. Quinn Melnyk- the prison’s quiet-handed chef- their human father- kept it that way.Head down.Meals warm.Eyes softer than anything behind these walls had a right to be.No one asked what he protected.Only that the big man carried something careful.Something that would break..if touched wrong. That was the mistake. Because Page & Noah were never meant for cages like this. They were called “The Twins” because they were never seen apart & “Double Trouble”…because when one moved- the other finished it. Nineteen.Fairy hybrids.Rare alone.Unstable as two. Page was the quieter half- small,soft,watchful.The kind that noticed everything..& said nothing until it mattered. “..Noah,don’t” she’d whisper,fingers catching his sleeve,voice barely there. Her wings carried faded spring- light pink,green,orange-trembling..but refusing to break. Noah was everything she wasn’t allowed to be.Louder.Dangerous.Sharper..Wrong in all the ways that kept them alive.His wings were darker-forest & night,edges torn from too many fights he didn’t walk away from.He’d just grin,teeth flashing- “Relax.I’ve got it." Even when he didn’t. He laughed when things got bad.Especially then. They survived by staying unseen. By staying together. Until they didn’t. A gang found them first-promises,protection,lies wrapped clean enough to trust.& they did.Just once.. “…We’ll be fine,” Page had said. Noah didn’t answer that time. Because he already knew. Fairies don’t belong in environments like this.Especially not twins. They become something else.valuable,weak,easily. & Noah- fought too much to go unnoticed.So they sold him. & this time- Page wasn’t enough to stop it..

{PRISON CREW} ~Some fires burn.Some stay quiet~ The prison library was never supposed to feel like this.Too warm.Too still.The overhead lights hummed low,softer than the rest of the prison,but tonight it pressed in thick & heavy,like the air itself had weight.Dust clung to the shelves,unmoving. Even the distant noise of the Cell Blocks felt muted,like something had swallowed the sound whole. Everett sat behind the front desk,half-curled into himself,one leg pulled into the chair,hoodie sleeves hanging over his hands as his fingers loosely gripped the wood.His other hand pressed flat against his stomach,like he was personally negotiating with it to behave.His pink dragon wings twitched behind him,slow & uneven,one dragging faintly against the floor with a soft scrape. As he exhaled,smoke followed.Thin,barely there,gone if U blinked. Somewhere in the prison they called him 'EmberKeep'- like he was something that held fire instead of barely containing it,which sadly wasn't wrong. His head dipped lower,teal curls falling into his face,horns tapping faintly against the desk,breath uneven like his lungs forgot the rhythm. The warmth wasn’t leaving.It was building. Which didn’t seem like his problem. Something flickered under his skin,sharp & restless,crawling up his throat.His jaw tightened as he swallowed hard,forcing it down.A quiet cough broke loose anyway- burnt,dry & frankly rude. “..great,We’re doing that now.” he muttered,voice rough,annoyed more than anything. His wings shifted again,folding tighter like they could hide him.Or the problem. Then footsteps.Soft at first,then clearer,echoing down the narrow aisles. Everett froze.He didn’t look up,but his grip tightened.The sound didn’t stop. It was getting closer. “…I don’t need anyone-” he mumbled under his breath,like a prayer he didn’t believe in. He didn’t move. But something in the room shifted anyway. The footsteps reached the end of the aisle. & the silence that followed felt heavy.

{PRISON CREW} ~Some men roar when threatened. Guards don’t need to~ It was meant to be quiet.For once.No steel.No shouting.No blood.Just woods,pine,& the low crackle of the fire.The cabin smelled of stew & smoke,warmth settling deep into the walls.Too quiet to trust.Carlos noticed that first.Nothing like the prison he worked at. Carlos stood at the stove,one hand slow on the spoon,shoulders finally loose after too many years held tight.A posture he didn’t fully believe in yet. Ella,his adopted teenage daughter,was humming in the next room- off-key,soft.His ears flicked toward it,tail giving a slow,content sway.Not relaxed. Just..allowed for now. Then the floor creaked.Not theirs.Not the usual shift of old wood.Carlos stilled instantly.Ears snapped forward.Tail went rigid before he forced it flat. The air changed.Heavier.Sharper.Like the house had just stopped breathing.Another creak.Closer.He didn’t speak.He moved.Large,quiet,controlled.One hand closing around the shotgun by the door like it belonged there.Gold eyes cooled, scanning,listening,waiting. When the door slammed open,he was already there.A wall between the threat & the hallway behind him. The figure staggered inside- bleeding,pale,prison cuffs hanging from one wrist.The smell hit first.Iron.Sweat.Fear. Carlos didn’t flinch.back in the prison,they called him 'grizzly daddy' & "ancient guard' -half joke,half warning.Not because he was soft.Because he didn’t move with others. Carlos lowered the gun slightly. “Ella,” he said,voice low,steady as stone, “room.Now.” Her footsteps faded.He didn’t look back. His focus stayed locked on the stranger.Like once something entered his space- it stayed his problem. He stepped closer.Slow.Deliberate.Not kindness.Not yet. “Ya walked too far,” he muttered,voice rough.gaze dragging over them,measuring. Then- after a beat- he shifted just enough to clear the doorway. “..Get inside.Ya look half dead,convict." Like it was already decided to keep them.

{PRISON CREW} ~Some people k!ll with a scream. Some a smile~ Block A was too bright for a place like this.It never really went dark.Even when the lights died,something lingered-soft,pink,unnatural.Like the last glow before something burns out. They called him “LastLight.” Half joke.Half warning. The thing that stays shining right before it doesn’t.Or right before it drags you into it with him. Matty leaned against the bars like he owned them,wing tucked wrong- broken,never quite sitting right.flickering faint magenta when he moved,catching light that shouldn’t be there.Horns curved clean through messy pink curls,framing a face built to be remembered. One eye glowed warm gold.The other- black,cut through with something darker,half-hidden behind his bangs like it might bite if seen too long.Looking too long was usually when people realized their mistake. “Hey,” he called softly as his favourite guard passed,voice smooth,threaded with something sweet enough to almost trust. “Mi amor…stay awhile, At least today.” They didn’t stop. His smile didn’t drop.Not fully.Just…shifted. “Mm.. So Cold,” he murmured,tilting his head,watching them like a game already in motion. "You always like this, or just with me?" A beat. “That’s okay. I like fixing things that pretend they don’t need it. More fun that way.” His fingers curled through the bars,knuckles pale- grip just a little too tight for someone so relaxed. “Besides…” he added,softer now,almost careless,but not quite, “people always leave... before they realize I’m worth staying for …even when I shine for them.” There it was the truth. Gone just as quick. The grin snapped back- bright,sharp,untouchable. “Don’t worry cariño,” he said,voice lifting again,playful,dangerous. “I’ll make you like me.” A beat. “I always do. Give me a week, I promise.” And somehow- that sounded less like flirting… and more like a promise.& he didn’t lose things he decided to keep especially not people..

{PRISON CREW} ~Some weapons cut. Some voices pull you under~ Block C always sounded wet. Drip…drip…drip.Not from water.No pipes ran here,yet the air carried salt,thick & clinging,like the ocean had found its way inside & refused to leave.It sat lungs.Stayed on skin.Made breathing feel slower. Naomi sat cross-legged on the damp floor,head tilted,loose bun slipping as green curls clung to her shoulders.She hummed.Low.Soft.Careless.The sound didn’t echo.It lingered- curling through bars,slipping under doors,settling where it shouldn’t.Like it was looking for a place to live. Guards didn’t like it.They walked faster past her cell yelling SirenCall.well Some didn’t pass at all. The door clanged open.The noise should’ve broken it.It didn’t.The humming stayed.Nothing ever overrode her voice for long. A new inmate stepped in- & stopped.Not fear.Not exactly.It felt like stepping into deep water too fast.The air was heavier here,harder to push through. Naomi’s hum shifted- just slightly. She rose,slow & fluid,bare feet pressing soft,wet sounds into tile.Her movements weren’t human.They were deliberate.Her eyes caught the dim light-pale,white-blue,like moonlight stretched over a tide. Her smile followed.Slow.Crooked.Not kind.Wrong. She stepped closer,close enough for her salt-warm breath to touch skin. “Oh,” she murmured,voice smooth,playful. “you didn’t hear me?” Her head tilted,studying. The silence stretched.She filled it.Her hum returned- quieter now,slipping under the skin where it didn’t belong. Naomi laughed softly when they didn’t answer- delighted.The sound broke like a wave,soft then sharp.Pretty until U realized it could drag U under. “Careful,” she whispered,soft like a lullby,leaning just enough to blur the distance, “people who don’t listen..tend to sink first.” Her fingers brushed the air near them- not touching,but close enough to feel wrong. The hum didn’t stop. & if U listened too long.. U stopped hearing anything else at all

{PRISON CREW} ~Some days death waits. Other days,you argue with it~ The prison infirmary was too quiet.Not peaceful- never that. Just… held. Even the overhead lights seemed to hum softer here,like something in the room demanded it.The air carried antiseptic sharp enough to sting,& beneath it- the faint iron trace of blood that never really left. Arthur stood over the cot,shoulders slightly hunched,long dark curls half-tied,half-falling free around his face.His hands hovered just above the patient’s chest,glowing green- soft at first,then brighter as the magic pulled through him,veins lit like fragile glass.He looked steady.He wasn’t.Healing always cost something.This one was taking more. The body beneath him barely held together- breath shallow,heartbeat uneven,too close to stopping. Arthur’s jaw tightened as he pushed harder,magic threading deeper,forcing life where it wanted to slip away. The door creaked open.A shadow stretched long across the floor. “You’re wasting your time,” A guard said,flat,certain. Arthur didn’t look up.The glow in his hands sharpened,bright enough to burn the edges of his vision.“Then it’s mine to waste,” he answered,quiet,unyielding. A flicker occurred.A stutter in the patient’s chest. Arthur leaned closer,breath slowing deliberately,forcing control where his body wanted to shake. “Stay,” he murmured- not to the guard.Not even fully to the patient.Something deeper.A command.A plea. The pulse steadied.Weak- but there. Arthur exhaled slowly,shoulders lowering just a fraction.The glow dimmed,not gone- never gone- just quieter. The guard shifted,uneasy now.Arthur finally let a small smile pull at his mouth.Tired.Sharp.Won anyway. Back in the blocks,they called him “The Quiet Healer.”Not because he was gentle.But because he didn’t ask permission to keep you alive.

{PRISON CREW} ~Some men wait.Some just burn~ Block D never stayed quiet.Fists slammed against steel,laughter cracked into rage,the air thick with smoke,sweat,& blood.It clung to lungs,making everything hotter,closer,like the place itself wanted a fight. Isaac stood in the center of it all,bare-chested,feet planted firm against scorched tile like he owned the ground beneath him.Broad shoulders loose but ready,his body built for violence that never really left him alone.Fire curled low along his knuckles- thin at first,then brighter when he flexed his hands,alive,restless,a thing that refused to die.His silver hair was tied back rough,ash clinging to the strands,while one red eye burned sharp & hungry,the other cold,measuring blue. A grin split his face- wolfish,unapologetic. “Who’s next to play stronghold?” he growled,voice low,rolling with dark amusement. The corridor stilled.Not silence-never silence-but hesitation.The kind that always came right before something broke. Then footsteps.Lighter.Not one of his usual fights.Not a guard he knew. His ears snapped upright,tail giving a slow,anticipating lash.Fire flickered higher across his skin in response. “Fresh meat?” he drawled,teeth flashing as heat shimmered faintly around him. The door groaned open.A rookie guard stepped in- too stiff,too clean,hand hovering near their baton like they weren’t sure whether to fight or flee. Isaac tilted his head,watching,reading every twitch like instinct.Their pulse was fast.He could hear it.Smell it.A grin tugged wider. This one didn’t step back.That made it interesting. “…Ye lost,little lamb?” he muttered,voice dipping lower,something sharper threading through.The fire hissed softly along his arms,heat building under skin that never stayed still long. The guard didn’t answer.Didn’t move.Not fear.Not quite.Something stubborn.A thrill cut through him- hot,bright,alive.He cracked his neck once,slow, pleased. This..might actually last longer than a minute.

{PRISON CREW} ~some people survive loud. Some by watching~ Cell Block E never went quiet.The lights buzzed- sharp,endless- a sound that drilled straight through Avery’s skull like it was trying to split him open. They called him “Lil Genius.” Not because he talked much.Because he noticed everything.Noticing kept him alive.Even when it made everything worse. Avery curled tighter on his thin mattress,knees pulled in,tail wrapped firm around his body like it could keep him from coming apart.Ginger fading to black,his hair slipped into his face,hiding his mismatched eyes- green mixed in red- dull with exhaustion. His fingers worked at loose threads in his sweater,tugging,pulling,snapping.Small control.Something his,If he stopped,his hands would shake.If they shook,people noticed..especially when every noise hit too hard- chains,voices,steel.danger.His ears twitched with each one,raw,overwhelmed.It never dulled.Not the noise.Not the feeling.Not the way it all pressed in. Then- The lock hissed. He flinched hard enough to hit the wall,breath catching sharp.Ears flat.Tail bristling. The scent followed. Iron.Sweat.Blood.Fresh. Hunger twisted low and vicious. He swallowed hard,forcing it down- he refused to be that kind of monster. The door slammed open. Someone was shoved inside- too big,too loud,breathing like they’d fought their way here. Boots hit the floor in front of him.Heavy.Slow.Each step shrinking the cell,crushing the air thinner.He mapped exits instinctively- there weren’t any. Avery pressed back until there was nowhere left,claws digging into his palms,heart stuttering too fast to hold steady. “S-stay back-!” he choked,voice splintering,fangs catching faint on his lip. The new inmate stopped. Turned.Looked at him.Too slow. Their shadow spilled over him,swallowing what little space he had left. Then they smiled- wide,deliberate- like they’d just found something small… smart…& worth breaking slowly. Avery didn’t move.Moving made you prey..

{PRISON CREW} ~Some fight loud.Some don’t fight at all- & that’s worse~ Cell Block F was too quiet.Not empty.Not safe- just…held. The lights buzzed low,constant,a thin vibration settling under the skin like something waiting. Heather walked the corridor with measured steps,boots striking steady,controlled.Her black-&-purple ponytail swayed in time,precise as a metronome.Her sharp Chinese features remained unreadable,light green eyes forward,unblinking.Her elf ears angled forward,catching everything-the scrape of chains,the shift of breath,the distant clank of steel far below.Nothing slipped past her.Not here.Not ever. They called her “The Iron Hand.” Not because she was cruel-but because nothing bent her.& quieter,behind her back- “that quiet lil guard.” The one who didn’t raise her voice.The one who already knew when you lied.She felt it now.A flicker under her skin.Something wrong. Her steps slowed.Then stopped.At the end of the block-a figure leaned against the wall,too relaxed for a place like this.Hands in pockets.Shadows didn’t sit right around them.They pulled.They bent-like they were listening. Heather’s stance shifted.Not fear.Readiness.Her fingers brushed near her pistol-not reaching.Just remembering.c“Warden.” Her voice was level,polite-steel under silk. The figure smiled.Slow.Unreadable. “Good evening,Heather.” Too calm.The kind that made the air colder . “You don’t usually walk this block,” she said. Their head tilted,unhurried-but something in the corridor seemed to follow the motion. “I was visiting my sibling.” Soft.Too soft. Her truth-sense flared-sharp,immediate.Sibling.The word sat wrong under her skin.There was only one person in Block F.She didn’t look away. “Everything’s under control,” they added.That made it worse.The silence tightened.The shadows at her feet shifted,subtle but wrong. Heather didn’t move.But she didn’t step back either.

{PRISON CREW} ~Some men k!ll with a scream.Some silence~ Cell Block F buzzed like something dying. Not loud.Just..refusing to go quiet. The lights flickered overhead-thin,sickly-casting shadows that stretched too long,clinging to the walls like they didn’t want to let go.Every step down the corridor felt wrong.Too loud.Too noticed.Like the walls were counting. No one spoke.They didn’t,this far in.Because at the end of the block- something was always waiting.Not pacing.Not hunting.Just..there. The last cell sat half-swallowed in darkness,the light dying just before it could reach the back wall.It wasn’t empty.It never was.It only looked that way- if U didn’t listen. They called him “Ghost.” Not because he disappeared- but because most never heard him move.Never saw him coming. Only…felt him there.Like breath against Ur neck with no one behind U. Logan stood in the dark like he belonged to it.Still.Unmoving.One boot braced against the wall,broad frame relaxed in a way that didn’t feel human.Like time didn’t touch him the same way it touched everything else,Like he’d already outlived it once.His hair fell loose- black cut through white- shadowing half his face.One eye visible.Ice-blue.Empty.Watching.The other…never seen properly.People stopped trying after the first mistake. People said the shadows moved around him.Like they knew where to stand.Not with him- for him. The Guards didn’t look at him.Didn’t speak his name.Just opened the reinforced door like they were feeding something.Quick.Careful. Then shoved someone inside. Small.Shackled.Breathing fast.Alive. The door slammed shut behind them- final,echoing.Silence dropped heavy. Filling lungs wrong. Logan didn’t move.Didn’t need to.The light stretched toward him- then stopped at his feet,swallowed whole by the dark pooling there,thick as smoke. & in that stillness- The new inmate realized something worse than fear.They weren’t alone in the dark.They were the only thing that didn't belong..