NYSM Fics
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Maybe this isn’t the awful thing it feels like. Perhaps whatever lingers in his blood that overrides his control is something intended to help, to make him better.
The thought doesn’t alleviate any of the terror that still swirls behind his ribcage, threatens to spill over and sink its icy teeth into his bones — but it’s something he clings to, nonetheless. He’ll figure it out, and stop it, and in the meantime it could be a good thing. He hasn’t figured out how to apologise, yet — but the logical first step would be to keep them happy, make sure he stays in their good graces and doesn’t do anything to further aggravate them.
He doesn’t like the idea, but if this — thing, this compulsion helps to make him more palatable, more tolerable and easier to be around, perhaps he’ll be allowed to stay long enough to make it up to them. He might be able to turn it into a good thing before he finds out how to end it, before it wears off. He’ll just wait it out.
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J. Daniel Atlas ends up cursed, he thinks. It takes a while for the others to notice. In the meantime, he tries to stay sane. It's surprisingly difficult when your mind isn't your own, anymore.