#he has her parents death certificates for fucks sake

[winchesternova-k]

the bastard uncle is fucking at it again!! my ma gave him permission to take some of her furniture ONLY specific items and ONLY furniture and he. Took. Her. Fucking PAPERWORK!!! he also stole a bunch of my shit including books and pop vinyls and im so fucking mad abt it!!! why can’t he just fuck off!!!!!

[adsosfraser]

The Stone’s Toll - Chapter Five

Read on AO3

Claire sat nursing her glass of expensive cognac. Neither of them initiated a conversation, preferring silence to the inevitable argument that would ensue. 

 It was Christmas Eve when she returned. Little over a month and a half in that soul leeching ward. Frank had decorated the house with holly, and ivy, and even some sprigs of mistletoe in an attempt for some normalcy. 

 “Claire, I’m sorry for what they did to you. I was angry at you. You not only chose to leave me once but twice over. You’d rather die than feel my touch. I wanted to feel anything but utter despair. I’m sorry it has taken me so long to return you home.” She offered no response. 

“Do you have any idea just how difficult these last few months- past few years have been for me Claire? How utterly exhausting it has been to deal with your loss and then now this? I don’t wish to fight you on any of this. Let us have a civilised conversation please.”  

 “How hard it’s been for you!” Her mouth hung open in shock. “You think these past few months have just been a fucking picnic for me!” She stood in her anger and seethed at the fireplace, back turned from her husband. 

 “Of course not, but did you ever stop to consider how I’ve felt about anything?” 

 “Did you ever consider my feelings when you were sticking your cock into one of your students?! God, did you give me one of their diseases?” Shock plastered over his face. “Oh don’t act so surprised, I’ve smelt the perfume and all those long nights at your ‘office’.”

 “Claire, be reasonable. You’ve only let me touch you once, and that was before I was intimate with anyone else. Not all of us are such mendacious sluts.” 

 “Oh and I’m sure you were an exemplary student of abstinence while I was ‘missing’, for fuck’s sake even during the war, because clearly me being the ‘mendacious slut’ that I am I wasn’t entirely faithful either!” 

 “I don’t wish to fight you anymore Claire, something has recently come upon my knowledge during my research, and it affects you. Please have a seat.” He gestured to the decanter on the side table and poured a glass for her.

 “It pains me to see you like this Claire. I can’t in good conscience force you to stay here and slip further and further away from me every day” Frank sucked in a breath and smoothed his hands over his thighs. “It angered me to see that you’d rather die... than be with me. That you chose his memory over me, a living, breathing human being, and I couldn’t even be sure he was real. Still can't. Can you not see Claire why it took me a while to finally decide upon your release?”

 The hazy buzz that normally surrounded her mind now had started to fade, if only slightly. Claire squinted at Frank and nodded. 

 He paused, calculating his next words. 

 “I’ve done some research with the Reverend. We’ve been in communication since you’ve told me what happened.”

 Frank adjusted his collar. He stared at the stack of papers to his right on the desk.

 “And well we certainly found evidence of your presence in the past, but there are other things.”

 Claire stared straight through him, she didn’t need to worry about her glass face showing something wrong. She felt nothing. This confirmation made no difference for the hell she had been through. The numb feeling had taken a while to crawl over her body the past few months and she welcomed it. It felt better than the suffocating dread and grief she originally felt.

 “I know I must let you go. Go to him I mean. It’s the least I can do for the pain I’ve inadvertently caused you, Claire. Please forgive me. It’s unbearable for me to live to see you this way, even if the alternative is to send you back.”

 “He’s dead, Frank. They all are.” Her lips thinned into a line. “I have nothing to live for.” 

 She cringed at her last choice of words. She didn’t want to cause him unnecessary suffering. But she was too tired to lie, to protect him from such verbal blows.

 “But Claire. He survived.” His white knuckles wrapped tightly around the armrest of the leather chair and he flexed his jaw. “This man, this Red Jamie was exonerated of his crimes, with a pardon from King George II himself. And his lands returned in reparation.” 

 “How-how can you tell me this? You know what I- God what you put me through. Why would you give me this hope?” 

 “I’ve also found one Alexander Malcolm and his,” he gulped, “wife Elizabeth Malcolm. But Claire, this is your hand on the document. A christening, where Elizabeth, where you’re stated as godmother in a church in Broch Mordha. But then there’s also this purchase of a croft on the Isle of Lewis, with the same signature as Alexander Malcolm.”

 “Please, Claire, allow me to make amends for whatever part I’ve caused in your suffering. If there’s some piece, some knowledge I can give you, it would ease my mind considerably. I don’t wish for you to waste away before my eyes, for the rest of our days in resentment.” His lips tightened into a thin line. “I met someone while you were away. The new assistant under me at Harvard. I think,” he paused, “I think I love her as you love your Jamie. Let us divorce and I’ll give you what funds I have.” 

 “You’re just- okay with that?” 

 “Claire, you haven’t been my wife in years, not really.” 

 “So that’s just it? I offered divorce when I returned, and finally accept when you’ve damaged me. My mind, my soul!” He winced at the sight of circled bits of skin on her temples. 

 “And I am regrettably sorry, darling.” He reached for her hand and squeezed. “I know this is what you’ve wanted ever since you’ve returned. Please, let me make this easy on you. I have the banking number for what covers the divorce settlement. It should be enough to purchase a flight to London, and then I know the inheritance from your parents and uncle should help you on your way to Inverness.” He slid over a paper card to her, detailing the whereabouts of the money he was offering her. She kept her arms crossed tightly over her sternum, not wishing to take any charity from him.  

 “There's another thing. Your son, the name they said you called out in your sleep every night. I have this death certificate of one Fergus Claudel Fraser. Marked March in the year of our lord Seventeen Forty-Five.” Tears sprang in her dry eyes at the mention of him. He pulled out a sheet from the pile of papers he collected and shoved it over to her side of the table. 

 “Why are you doing this Frank?” She couldn’t bear this physical proof that she had left her son to die without her. 

 “Here is one Fergus Malcolm, on the Isle of Lewis, a year after his ‘death’ and you're on this too. Or rather your alter ego one Elizabeth Beauchamp Malcolm. If nothing else, will you not live for him? Even if the proof of him amounts to nothing, that he really did die at Culloden? Please, take the money, and the papers. I’m hoping it can ease my conscience from all the torture you’ve endured.” 

 The last thing Claire wanted to do was ease Frank’s ego. She wanted him to suffer. But here was a lifeline, a way out and back to her family. She would see Fergus again if fate allowed. Her mind would never allow her to comprehend the other piece of hope before her. The one sure thing she knew was Fergus, he had been whole and alive the last she saw him. And there was something urging her to him. A panicked urgency. Her mind flashed to the nights after her therapies, when his presence in her dreams was almost so real she could feel his touch after she woke. She quickly signed the paper he offered. Claire Elizabeth Fraser. The wet ink shined against the thick paper. His suffering would have to wait. Her fingers began to twist the gold band on her finger but Frank stopped her. 

 “No, keep it. It will have value when you… return. The papers will be sorted by the time you’re gone, and we’ll both be free.” He swallowed sharply. “Know this Claire. I still love you, and I always will.” 

 He had a funny way of showing it, Claire thought. She didn’t dignify his statement with a response. She left him in the living room to pack, and as the sun rose the next morning her bed and dresser were empty. 

 Frank set aside some money for the divorce settlement into Claire’s own account. She withdrew the three hundred pounds without a second thought, and purchased a ticket to London. It barely covered the cost of a transatlantic flight, which was more of a luxury than anything, but she could afford to spend money, not time. A ship between would have lasted weeks, not hours. She was left with little over fifty pounds to find her way to Inverness. The only things she carried with her were her pearls, sgian dubh, the ring without its ruby stone, the copious amount of papers from Frank’s research, her old botany pocketbook, and a change of clothes, all packed into one small suitcase. Her things barely fit half the space inside it. The gold band hung around her neck on a chain now, instead of resting comfortably on her left ring finger. It clanged against the skin between her breasts with every sway of her steps. It was decided over a very pricey international phone call, she would go see Mrs. Graham.

[crimsonwolfie]

Fortuitous Love — Theo Raeken x Werewolf!Reader

Prompt: You (the reader) are a werewolf in London who live with Jackson and Ethan. You all travel to Beacon Hills to help Scott’s pack fight against the hunters, only things happen unexpectedly...

Warnings: occasionally swearing, trigger of dying/pain, fluff and general happy ending

Word count: 4,799

Masterlist

“You know, you’re asking for your death certificate by doing this.”

“I’m part werewolf, part kanima, darling. They’ve got nothing on me.”

“What about us, my love? We’re only werewolves. Sorry for not having the intolerance to wolfsbane unlike you!”

Carrying your head in your hands, you sigh dramatically at the two loverbirds in the front seats. Jackson and Ethan have been your friends (more like parents) for the past 2 years, after they found you alone and scared on the night you turned. Ever since then, they’ve taken you under their wing like their own and helped you control yourself - they were there for you when no one else was. During those 2 years, they’ve confided in you completely, telling you about Beacon Hills and their friends back there like Lydia, Stiles, Scott and Derek Hale. Being in London, you don’t really make any run in appearances with other supernaturals so your knowledge of them is remotely vague...but ever since your date took you out on a walk through the woods and bit you, you’ve wanted to know everything you can about all of it. If it wasn’t for Jackson and Ethan walking home from a dinner date and heard you scream, then you wouldn’t even be here to tell your story.

A cold, refreshing breeze hits your heated pink cheeks as your hair is swept back from the car window being down. Peering up through the sunroof, you see the moon full and as bright as the heavens above, bringing a small smile to your lips. As the reflection of the moonlight appears upon your glossy eyes, your mind wanders into reminiscing what your life was like before you changed...how you couldn’t hear everything in a 3 mile radius, how you had to ask how people were feeling instead of smelling their emotions...how you didn’t have to be weary of people hunting you down just to kill you for personal gain...

“How’re you feeling, Y/N?” you’re snapped back to reality by Jackson turning around in his seat, his eyes soft and his dimples merry.

“I’m okay, a little nervous i guess” you reply, shifting in your seat slightly whilst tugging the sleeves of your hoodie onto your hands “but hey, what about you? I mean...you haven’t seen these people for 3 years”

“It’s okay, not like they’re strangers. It’s just a shame it’s not under better circumstances” Jackson drops his head slightly in guilt. You know he thinks he should have visited them at least once a year, but with so many supernatural occurrences that have happened in Beacon Hills over the years, he knew it wasn’t the right time. And you knew that too.

“Look, you couldn’t see them before this. It was too dangerous, okay? You’re not in the wrong.” You place your dainty hand over his large one, gripping it tightly in a way to say “it’s going to be okay.” He returns this with a gentle squeeze of your hand and a small smile, before letting go and turning back to the front.

You, Jackson and Ethan were on your way to Beacon Hills to help the pack fight against pretty much the whole town, who have been turned by their own fear to fighting and killing all supernatural creatures. Hunters had been sent to London to hunt down you three, obviously they didn’t succeed but you guys were absolutely pissed. In a way, this is all a blessing in disguise to you, as you’re now on your way to meet people who are meant to be like a second family to you. You’ve heard so much about them all, that you feel like you have already met them...it’s...weird.

“Don’t be scared, darlings” Ethan disturbs the comforting silence with a soft tone “i can sense the fear from both of you, it’s thicker than a bowl of oatme-“

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” you lean forward poking your head between the two seats in front, glaring at Ethan with beady eyes. Both men wheeze as you breathe out a slight laugh.

“-and anyway...i’m not scared.” You retort, placing your hands on your hips and tilting your head slightly whilst staring into Ethan’s eyes in the mirror. He stares back at you, crinkles on his eyelines and cheek bones high as he cackles softly at your words

“Yeah right princess”

“It’s true! I’m not!”

“It’s okay if you are, sweetie” Jackson pouts sarcastically, earning a middle finger from you. “Hey, don’t be mean little lady!” Jackson wiggles his finger at you whilst tutting your choice of actions.

“Love i will not hesitate to bite your finger off and throw it out this window” you hiss as your eyes glow a bright golden colour. Since you’re London born and raised, you have a british accent coating your words, making it all that more humorous for the two americans in front of you. Your accent has always been something they find both fascinating about you, but also a way to tease you about how you say certain words. You look up to the window reflection to see your eyes are glowing and quickly look down and shake it off.

“You know, i think you’ll get on very well with Theo Raeken” Jackson pipes up, you look up to see him smirking, knowing it’ll wind you up even more.

“Who is this Theo Raeken guy, anyway. I thought you said you both left town before he appeared?”

“Oh we did, only it’s a pretty small world and that guy gets around..” Ethan side eyes Jackson, wearing a confused “just tell her” expression

“...okay maybe because Lydia calls me every week to tell me what i’ve missed.” He sighs as he rolls his eyes. You smirk sweetly, quite enjoying the view in front of you.

“So what’s he like?” You ask, intrigued to know more about this ‘Theo’ guy

“He’s a dick”

“And a liar”

“And a snake”

“Wait how’s that even possible?! I didn’t even think you could have a snake hybr-“

“-no not literally silly, you can’t trust him. He’s a snake that way”

“-oh.”

...

“Is he fit though?”

“Y/N STOP”

—

The car comes to a sudden halt outside an old, abandoned building. The night sky darkens your surroundings, taking away any sort of comfort you had before. Had you reached your destination? Or was something stopping you from reaching it? Remote darkness surrounds you all with not a glimpse of light in sight - no street lamps lit, no lights in the buildings and no cat eyes in the road. It’s almost as if you’re standing in the middle of a ghost town, or even a graveyard.

“This...this can’t be right?” Ethan begins to fiddle with the satnav displayed in front of him “it’s saying ‘route malfunction. No route calculated?”

“It was fine when we got here?” Jackson retorts whilst rubbing his eyes of tiredness. You can feel it too...the fatigue. After an 11 hour plane ride, you’re surprised you’d lasted this long without any sleep. But there’s something else your senses are picking up on...fear? Or even anger?

“Let me try my phone” you hesitate as you open the car door, stepping one foot out ever so cautiously. Picking up your phone from the seat, you hold it up in the air in hopes of getting a signal - nothing. No bars at all...weird.

A cold shiver runs down your spine, causing your entire body to cover in goosebumps. Pulling your hoodie over your body more and bringing your arms up to hug yourself, you get back in the car, rolling the window back up. As if by magic, the air turned from a cool summer breeze to a winter snowstorm with an unsettling feeling running around in the air, and you nor your wolf side liked it.

“Do...do you feel that?” You ask

“I don’t know what it is but...yeah i feel something”

“It’s called love dumbass”

“Jackson this is not a time for your sarc...” Ethan trails off suddenly, sticking his nose up in the air and sniffing. “It’s blood...i smell blood”

“What are you...wait, yeah i smell it too” you retort, opening your car door up once again and stepping out “i’m gonna go and follow it, stay here” you say

“Y/N you’re basically our child, it’s YOU who should be staying put, safe” Ethan replies, his hand on your shoulder

“Eth, it’s okay...i can handle myself” you flash your eyes “if i’m not back in 10 then get the hell out of here. Don’t look back.” and with that, you stalk off, following the scent of fresh blood. Using your wolf vision allows you to see more in your path than you would normally, and with your senses heightened due to a completely unfamiliar setting, you know you’ll be okay.

There’s tall brooding trees everywhere around you, but no sight of life of any kind. Running faster and faster you start to gain a stronger track of the scent, seeing a type of clearing ahead of you. Just as you’re about to leap forward, you hear something flying through the air, only you have no idea where it’s coming from. As you stop and stand behind the tree bark, your vision starts to blur and your muscles begin to weaken. You feel this sharp sting in your side, looking down to reveal an arrow sticking out of it. Panic overwhelms you as the thought of dying here in the darkness, in the cold all alone, scares the hell out of you. A hot, single tear drops on your rosy cheek and into the corner of your mouth. You want to scream, to rip someone’s throat out, to run and hide, but you can’t move. The sound of more arrows flying through the darkness surround you, until all you can hear is the same swooshing sound of this death trap.

“Hunters” you moan under your breath, squinting your face in both pain and anger. The blood is oozing out fast, and you’re not healing. You lift your hoodie up to see the damage whilst wincing...and it’s bad. I mean...really bad. If you’re not healing, then it can only mean one thing...

“Oh for fuck sake, wolfsbane?” You growl as blood seeps into your leggings, painting your once grey hoodie now a tie dye of a piercing crimson shade. The pain begins getting worse as beads of sweat drip from your forehead, mixing with your salty tears. Red laser beams strike through the darkness ahead of you, searching for your body. Scrunching up into a ball on the floor, you try to rock yourself to ease the pain, but it’s useless. You’re looking around for any sort of plan, and start to think of Jackson and Ethan, hoping they’ve gone and are out of harms way. ‘If anything ever happens to them i swear to god i will kill anyone and everyone who inflicted harm their way’ you think to yourself, as you tug the arrow out of your body with a heartbreaking cry. So many emotions are crossing your mind right now to the point you don’t know what is right to feel and what is wrong. Killing someone? It feels fucking right at the moment. Especially the son of a bitch who hunted you.

You know you couldn’t howl to alert the others as they would just race towards you, not away. You have no choice but to face the hunters to get to the clearing, to find someone to help, and with that...you get up. It takes all your strength, but you do it, determined to escape alive.

“Cmon Y/N, you got this” you whisper to yourself in a brittle voice, chin trembling from the pain you’re enduring. Your golden circles glow brightly with determination, as you step forward...but as soon as you do, you look down to see a red laser beam pointed directly at your stomach. Luckily your adrenaline instincts kick in as you grab the flying arrow mid-flight before it hits your body. Breaking it into two pieces, you look up, anger and rage boiling inside you. Your fangs rip through your gums as a ground-rumbling growl leaves your throat, cutting through the space around you like a thousand knives. Running towards the clearing, a dozen more arrows fly around your body...some missing...but also some hitting. Taking a few arrows to your chest, back, legs... your vision gets blurrier, fading by the second until you can’t take it anymore, the wolfsbane kicking in a lot quicker than before. Collapsing on the ground of dried leaves and fertile soil, you reach your hand out to the clearing, trying to grasp at it one final time. Gripping a handful of soil in your blood soaked palms, your eyes brim with tears. ‘This is it’ you think, your fear of a painful, cold and lonely death becomes too realistic. The sound of arrows flying from all directions starts fading away as your body slowly starts giving up on you. As you’re about to give up completely, you see a small blurry blob in the distance getting bigger and bigger the closer it comes. The last thing you see is a hand reach towards your body, then pitch black.

You awake with a gasping breath, back shot up straight and eyes wide. The last thing you remembered was being on the brink of death in the woods, yet now you’re in somewhere that looks like a clinic...an animal clinic maybe?

Looking down at your hands, you see dirt and blood still dug in-between your nails...but there’s white bandages wrapped around your arms. Your bare back shrieks in pain as your skin burns underneath, screaming to be ripped apart. The steel table is cold to your touch as you sweep your legs off onto the side, examining your body for injuries - you’re patched up with bandages everywhere instead. As you’re about to get off the table completely, you hear footsteps approaching the room. Quickly, you decide to grab the needle to your right side for defence, only freezing once seeing the figure walk into the room.

It’s a boy, roughly the same age as you, only he seems a lot more muscular, taller and maturer than you. His hair is a dirty blonde, with longer bits at the front that fall in front of his face Leonardo Dicaprio style. His complexion is dashing, with eyes as blue as the sea and chiseled jawline, his nose pretty much perfect and his lips...oh they look succulent. Upon seeing you, he smirks with perfect lips, as his brows raise.

“And what do you think you’re going to do with that?” He asks, his voice deep but attractive. He places the clipboard in his arms down on the counter next to him, bringing a hand to his hip.

“I...you could have been the hunter” you reply, captivated by his features still

“So i try to kill you, patch you up here and then try to kill you again?” His lips part as a chuckle leaves his throat

“You never know.” You snap, pouting your lips as your brows furrow in defeat.

“So...you must be Y/N?’” The boy asks, tilting his head slightly whilst scanning you up and down. You step back suddenly, surprised he knows who you are, as if he’s been expecting you.

“Wait how’d you know that?” You ask, slowly placing the needle in your hand on the table. He steps forward, closing the space between you two slightly

“Well for one, the accent” he points towards your mouth with a single finger, “and second, Lydia never stops talking about the ‘girl who Jackson saved’. It’s pretty obvious.”

“Well you’re acting like i’m not what you expected..”

“Because you’re not.” He smirks whilst getting closer, closing the gap between you two more. You can’t help but stare into his eyes, then look down at his luscious lips and think of what they’d feel like pushing against yours, moving in synchronisation-

“Hey, stop thinking about me” you snap out of your trance, looking up to see him winking at you with that famous grin of his that everyone talks about, granted he is who you’re thinking he is...

“I-i’m not thinking about you” you push him away

“I can smell the attraction on you” he scoffs.

“I take it you’re Theo Raeken, then.” Sighing, you look up at him, crossing your arms across your chest.

“The one and only” he says as he comes closer to you, bringing his face inches away from your own.

You understand what everyone means when they say Theo Raeken is no good - The guy reeks of selfishness and cockiness. He went against Scott and his pack, even killed him at one point and spent a year in hell...if you could see red flags then he’d be drowning in them. But that’s your problem - you go for the bad guys...you always have. Jackson and Ethan knew this already, which is why they knew you’d get along with him when no one else does.

“So what brings you to Beacon Hills, gorgeous?” Theo takes a few small steps forward, which is making you take small steps back until your back hits the wall of the clinic, your frame pressed against the hard surface. Theo raises his hand and presses his palm against the wall, leaving you nowhere to escape...that is...if you wanted to (but hey, being sandwiched between a wall and a really hot - actually insanely hot guy, was not that bad).

“It’s the hunters, we came back to help.” Your eyes glimpse across his face once again, as you bite your bottom lip. You lean on the wall with your feet planted into the floor, keeping you completely still.

“You’re willing to risk your life for complete strangers?” Theo’s face falls in concern, his deep blue eyes squinting slightly in disbelief. ‘What kind of girl would do that?’ He questioned himself, starting to get more intrigued by you each second.

“They’re not strangers, kinda?” You reply, looking away as you try to explain “they’re Jackson and Ethan’s friends, so i trust them.” Scratching your neck, you look back to him. Theo stares at you as if he doesn’t believe what you’re saying. “You don’t need to stare at me like that”

“Like what?” Theo questions

“Like you can’t trust me. Because you can...and anyway who’s to say you’re the one to be trusted? You don’t exactly have the best representation” you retort, earning a scoff from the boy in front of you

“I saved your life; you should be grateful?” He hissed

“Gee, thanks for not killing me like you did with Scott Mccall, you’re my hero.” You say sarcastically, rolling your eyes and shaking your head.

“I do not like your attitude, pretty” theo scoulds, his eyes glowing.

You flash your eyes back at him, growling “i don’t like your loyalties.”

“Yeah well maybe if you went through what i’ve gone through you’d understand”

“You don’t need to pity yourself, Raeken. Some people are just born monsters. Accept it.”

“You don’t even know me!” He’s practically screaming now, with his teeth gritted and fangs shining in the moonlight from the windows above

“I know enough to know you’re a no good, rotten waste of space!” You hiss back, as you go to swipe at him...but he blocks you, gripping your wrist in his hand.

You both stand there facing each other with your fangs dripping and eyes golden, faces inches apart and heavily breathing. You can practically feel his chest on yours, his breath tingling on your cheeks. Staring into each other’s eyes, neither of you move. His hand is still wrapped tightly around your wrist...only after around 10 seconds of staring into each other’s golden orbs, he loosens his grip. He doesn’t let go, just hovers his hand gently over yours. You yank your wrist from his touch and bend under his other arm, which is still palmed to the wall. Walking around the the other side of the table, you focus on controlling yourself...which Theo notices from the corner of his eye.

“You still have trouble controlling yourself, don’t you?..” he begins, only you shut him up by running towards him, shoving your hand over his mouth. Theo’s eyes widen, fearful for your state...but there’s something else in his eyes - sympathy? Suddenly a heart-wrenching pain tears through your side, causing you to kneel over screaming with pain. Still with your hand over Theo’s mouth, he gently places his own over yours as long, black lines start trailing through his skin.

“Wha-what are you-“ you yelp loudly “-you doing?” gritting your teeth and clawing your claws into your palms, he places his other hand over the small of your back. Theo gently moves your hand with his, off of his mouth, so he can talk.

“I’m taking your pain away” he softly speaks, his eyes soft and his touch delicate over your fragile skin. You look up to him with a layer of tears glazed in your eyes, fear hidden deep within your orbs. Theo never looks away when taking your pain. As you start to feel it going away, your eyes soften slightly, guilt clouding your conscience after remembering what you said to Theo. ‘Clearly he’s not what they paint him to be’ you think to yourself.

“You have to care, to take pain away...” your voice is shaky, wobbly. As you bring your legs together, Theo gives you a small smile, as he still holds your hands after taking your pain.

“Of course i care...i can tell you do to” he simply replies, looking down at the ground. His soft, silky hair flops with his gaze, covering part of his forehead. All you want to do is run your fingers through his perfect head of hair, feel it through your fingertips and put your hands on his cheeks...

“But you don’t know me?” You whisper, as you reach forward and place your fingers on the side of his head. He leans into your touch, replying “i just feel like i know you, already”

He brings his hand to yours on his cheek, lacing your fingers in his

“I’m really sorry for...for everything i said earlier” you hiccup quietly “it’s just i thought you were this big bad guy that everyone says you are...” your words trail off as you glance away to the side, thinking of why Theo was being so nice to you “...Hell changed you...didn’t it?” You mention, your voice barely above a whisper. Theo grunts at your words, flinching at the thought of what he went through down there.

“It would change anyone” his eyes welled with tears as he chewed on his lower lip. A sob leaves your lips as you realise what torture he must have gone through, seeing the genuine look of hurt and pain in his expressions. It makes you want to just hug him and never let go...

“...no one’s seen this side to you, have they?” you lift his head up by placing your fingers on his chin. His head is heavy, tears now streaming down his face as memories are recapped in his wracked brain. You bring both hands to wipe away his tears, sobs quietly leaving his mouth.

“No...” he begins, choking up. You pull him into your body, hugging him tightly, rocking sideways in a way of comforting him. He returns the hug, wrapping his arms around you tighter and burying his head in the crook of your neck. You both stay like this for a while, as your hand rubs his back softly and the other hand runs through his hair.

Everyone had no problem telling the bad side of Theo Raeken’s story, but they seemed to have missed out the path of redemption. The path Theo wanted to take, and with your help, he would stick to. For this, you felt anger unlike anything before, for he was a boy who made mistakes. Hell, you’ve made mistakes before...but everyone deserves the right to prove their redemption - to make things right...and Theo Raeken...was never given that opportunity.

Slowly sitting up, he wipes the rest of his face of tears, resting his back against the wall of the clinic. He never expected to meet you, and like you. He’d heard things about you, much like how you heard things about him, but he never saw sympathy as one of your qualities...especially sympathy towards him. You release him from your touch, about to get up, until he grabs your hand back in his.

“Please, don’t leave me Y/N” he begs, his state so fragile and broken. As his soft fingers lace around your own, you obey his wishes and sit back next to him, intertwining your fingers together. He turns towards you, a sweet smile on his face, his red bloodshot eyes tired. You lean your head on his broad shoulder, and just sit with him. He leans his head on your head, his breathing calming. It’s almost like you two are each other’s anchors...but it’s impossible - you don’t know each other...not really?

“Do you believe in people being anchors?” You whisper. Theo adjusts himself closer to your body, instantly creating more heat between you two

“I guess...Liam’s is Hayden. When she left, he really struggled. He still does” he hums. It gets you thinking...you never really had an anchor. You only had Jackson and Ethan telling you this motto “the sun, the moon, the truth” to help control yourself, but most of the time it never worked...

“Wait” you gasp, starting to get fidgety and panic setting in your heart “where are Jackson and Ethan? They were in the car and i left them. I left them, Theo” you turn to him with tears settling in your eyes, your face growing paler through panic. Theo quickly grabs your shoulders to steady yourself, pushing your hair behind your ears, out of your face

“Hey, hey Y/N it’s okay - they’re safe. I got to them, too. They’re with Scott and the others.” He reassures you, rubbing your arms. “It’s okay, breathe. Just breathe, you’re okay”.

“I can’t lose them, they’re all i have” you whimper, Theo strokes your cheek with thumb, pulling you into his chest.

“You have me” he whispers, making you look up at him in adoration. You two had met a couple of hours ago and it already feels like you’ve fallen for him...only he felt the same way. It’s like you two were each other’s soulmate, and that everything feels safe and okay when you’re with each other.

“I feel like...and please don’t think i’m crazy-“ you blurt out, hand on Theo’s chest “-but i feel like you’re my anchor...”

Theo smiles at your words and leans forward, crashing his lips into yours with pure desire and passion. You return the kiss by moving your lips sweetly along with his, hands roaming everywhere on each other’s bodies. Sparks run through your body and burst into fireworks as the kiss deepens. Theo places his hand on the back of your head, pushing you deeper into his lips. Your fingers trace through his hair, tugging at times. Your urge to rip each other’s clothes off increases, as Theo gets slightly aggressive in the kiss, his hands leaving imprints in your skin and biting your lip. Your breath is rigid, wanting more and more. Suddenly, the lights flicker and the sound of a door creaking open breaks the connection between you and Theo, as Jackson and Ethan walk through the door. You and Theo freeze in your position of tops half off, Theo on top of you, his hair an absolute mess and your hair tangled around your neck in sweat

“I knew it!” Jackson cackles, clapping his hands together as Ethan stares at him in annoyance. He reaches into his pocket and places a 10 dollar bill in Jackson’s hand, who smirks and kisses his teeth

“-woah woah you guys BET on this happening?” You gasp, pushing Theo off you enough so you could sit up

“No, we bet that you’d like him...we didn’t bet that you guys would actually click like that” Ethan replies, shrugging.

“Okay i love you guys but...get out.” You scowl, staring at the two men in front of the door

“Y/N we didn’t me-“ Jackson starts

“GET OUT” you flash your eyes, causing the two men to dash out of the room sniggering like two school girls. You flop back on the floor, smirking towards Theo, who climbs back on top of you, about to press his lips to yours once again

“What actually happened he-“ Ethan’s head pops behind the door frame

“GET OUT”

Hope you guys like this! Let me know if you want a part 2 or any other Teen Wolf requests! Xo

[chilledplantmum]

I’m so sorry I have to write this:

And again this is a complication of 100’s stories I have been witness too:

IF YOU FEEL TRIGGERED OR FEEL SIMILAR IN ANYWAY YOU DESERVE BETTER YOUR LIFE MATTERS YOU DESERVE BETTER!

Help numbers:

Life line: 13 11 14

Men’s help line: 1300 789 978

Beyond blue: 1300 22 4636

1800 RESPECT

Kids helpline: 1800 55 1800

And

CONTENT WARNING: suicide, mental health, abuse of women and children, death, rape, sexual assault, racism, ableism, sexism, homophobia.

Male manager walks into his males CEO’s office:

MM: Hey mate I need to take a week off I’m really struggling.

CEO: why?

MM: it’s personal

CEO: I’m your CEO your personal life takes a back burner to your leadership in the company.

MM: there are two other managers that can fill my spot.

CEO: one has legitimate medical certificate one is taking annual leave.

MM: to be honest it’s just a week I’ve trained my team well enough to take my role for a week.

CEO: you mean the old black man, the up and coming rainbow boy, or the 20 something piece of ass.

MM: no they’re my team they are just as qualified as I am.

CEO: mate you know black men die younger? I think he has a drinking problem what if Carks it?

MM: please don’t talk about him like that he taught me everything I know.

CEO: or the young guy with rainbows on his t-shirt and pictures of kissing another man on his desk? That bloke doesn’t know if he’s a man or a woman.

MM: please don’t talk about him like that he is dating one of my best mates.

CEO: and don’t you dare tell me that 20yo blonde bimbo is as qualified as you the only reason I let you hire her coz she’s got the person tit to arse ratio.

MM: breaks down in tears

CEO: oh for fucks sake man! Get your shit together. The only man who cries is a pussy.

MM: sir I need a week off please I’m so tired, my dog died this week and my wife’s pregnant and due soon, she’s throwing up every day and still being an amazing mum.

CEO: are you joking! your dog? Boy, I used to live on a farm we used to shoot animals for fun! What are you a fucking vegan!

MM: what about my wife?

CEO: pfft she’s got it easy I wish I could stay home all day and watch tv and do nothing.

MM: but she’s so sick and my toddler is really energetic and needs a lot of attention.

CEO: what kind of father are you? Kids should be seen and not heard, if you can’t get control then your a lazy father.

MM: but he has autism.

CEO: you know what autism is an excuse for bad parenting in my day we gave them kids the belt.

MM: the specialist said that could traumatize him.

CEO: Okay, but you still can’t take a week off.

MM: Can I apply for annual leave?

CEO: I need two weeks to notice, no

MM: sir I’m really not okay, I’m feeling overwhelmed and suicidal.

CEO: suicidal, you should man up it’s not like you fought in the war.

MM: please.

CEO: NO! You can either be grateful for everything I do for you or quit, you’re choice

MM: alright.

MM comes home.

WIFE: Ohh Hunny thank god you're home! Our toddler is in hysterics!

MM: alright I’ll watch a movie with him. Is it okay if I have a nap first?

WIFE: Are you kidding? You don’t know what tired is!

MM: Okay, Hunny.

MM calls his best freind.

BF: hey bro!

MM: dude I’m soo bloody tired my CEO dragged me through the coals today.

BF: you think that’s bad? My brother in law had his jaw broken on the weekend for getting drunk and starting a fight with a security guard at the club!

MM: the man he always gets so violent when he’s drunk.

BF: I know the man but it’s so funny! The dude looks like buzz lightyear! He got a concussion and looks like an old man who’s had a stroke! Man, you gotta see it I made a meme about it!

MM: hey man my wife’s calling out for help she can’t put her socks on because she’s so big now!

BF: Oh dude I’m so sorry her stomach will look like a deflated sack of potatoes, must be like trying to climb a mountain for sex.

MM: man let’s not get into lockerroom talk right now.

BF: dude you sound like a girl. You know if you just grab her buy the pussy and shove it in. That fix how tired you are. Once you're done sit down with a beer and wait for her to make you dinner.

MM: I’m really tired I gotta go.

BF: a man you’re no fun anymore know you’re connected to the ball and chain.

MM: okay man I’ve really gotta go.

BF: bro you’ve got no balls, stop being a snowflake.

MM: takes deep breathe let’s put sigh.

WIFE: oh Hunny you look so sick are you okay?

MM: I think I’m coming down something.

WIFE: alright I’ll make dinner lie down and rest.

MM: I think I need to quit my job.

WIFE: your CEO again?

MM: Yup.

WIFE: why do you let him treat like that?

MM: because I need to support you and the kids I don’t want to lose my job.

WIFE: do you want me to call him and say that our kids sick?

MM: DONT YOU THINK I TRIED THAT! JUST STOP BEING SUCH A BITCH! IM TIRED JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!

WIFE: okay hun go to bed you look sick and need a rest. I love you.

MM: love you too. I’m so tired.

Late that night MM goes to the liquor cabinet and drinks to try to sleep.

Feels overwhelmed sees the gun in the safe next to the cabinet.....

NEWSPAPER THE NEXT DAY

WIFE PUSHES GOOD BLOKE TO THE EDGE PREGNANT WOMAN FOUND DEAD WITH TODDLER IN ARMS.

CEO AND BESTFRIEND: He was the best bloke I knew I never saw it coming he never told me. She was yelling at him a lot lately I just didn’t think he would ever snap, it must have been a nasty fight. You see women abuse men too.

[jemej3m]

What Now? (p1)

where andrew and neil are single dads and their kids hate each other. 

 Neil hated the administrators. They sat at the front desk and looked up at him with enormous eyes, eyelashes fluttering as they asked: “What’cha lookin’ for, hon?” She smiled, almost beseechingly, as she stood. “Tour? I can show you around.”

“Actually,” He cleared his throat, pulling his sleeves down. “I’m here for Robin.”

The woman’s face turned sour, though she did her best to remain neutral “Right. You said you would be here a half hour ago, Mr Josten. The others have been waiting. Take a seat, I’ll let Headmaster Boyd know.” 

I’m sorry, Neil wanted to snap. That some stupid kid has managed to aggravate Robin and that I’m a full-time working single father. Jesus Christ, people were shallow. 

He dropped into a plastic chair, straightening his shirt again. His hair was still a little damp after his 30-second shower: Convincing his coach to leave practise early was never easy, but he was one of the few teammates with a kid. And the only one of that small group who parented alone. He probably had a few more concessions than the rest, but he couldn’t afford to spend them on shit like this. 

Opposite him was a broad-shouldered man, staring at him. Unimpressed. Did he recognise Neil? He hoped not. He wasn’t in the mood for a facade. The staring continued. Neil elected to ignore him in favour of looking at the ceiling. 

When Robin was shuffled out by her classroom teacher, Danielle Wilds, she gave Neil a sheepish look. He stood up and offered his hand, which she let rest on her head. Touch was still incredibly unfamiliar to both of them. “What’s this all about, Robin?”

She pointed to the bruise on her jaw. “I pushed him after he called me bad things. Then he punched me back!” 

Neil glowered. It didn’t explain why his adoptive daughter was getting in trouble. She could sense that he knew she was omitting details of the story, and hid behind his hip as they followed Danielle Wilds down the hall. 

Behind them, the blond man stood. He was shorter than Neil - a feat in itself, really - but it was as though Neil could feel needles stabbing into the back of his skull. He took Robin by the hand as he lead her into the headmaster’s office, and immediately observed his surroundings: The enormous glass window looking out over the school’s courtyard, where kids were dressed for phys-ed and playing with skipping ropes, the mahogany desk, the shelves of books, the trophies and certificates of achievement on the walls. Boyd had a picture of a young girl with wild, curly hair by his computer. The man in question was sitting relaxedly in his chair, tattoos visible through the white button-down, his cuffs loose and rolled to mid-forearm. His hair was spiked with gel, and 

There was a young boy, sitting opposite him. He had black hair and green eyes, looking nothing like the blond man who sat next to him. The son was probably getting close to his father’s height. Both of them wore distasteful sneers. Like father like son, Neil supposed.

“Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” Neil asked, when there had been too many moments of frigid silence. “Robin? Anyone? I’d like to know exactly why I’m here.”

“I’m sorry, Mr Josten --”

“Neil.” 

“Neil.” Boyd cleared his throat. “Robin and Kevin have been having some serious disagreements over the past few weeks. Neither seem willing to compromise, or come to an impasse. We usually like to guide students to conflict resolution, but this is getting out of hand. Isn’t it, Kevin?” He looked at the boy. “Robin?” Neil’s daughter withered under his look of disappointment. 

They both pointed at each other. “They started it!” 

“Kevin always tells me that I’m dumb and get all the answers wrong.” Robin wailed. “And he hides my pencils!”

“Robin scribbled in my maths scrapbook.” Kevin huffed. “Then she hid my completed spelling homework --”

“Wasn’t me!” 

“And then she put grapes in the bottom of my bag, and they’re all squishy!” 

“Are you sure that your own grapes didn’t spill, Kevin?” His father implored. 

“You’re very good at losing pencils, Robin.” Neil shook his head. “Maybe you’ve lost them?”

“No!” Both of them cried. 

Momentarily, Neil looked to the other father, and recognised the look of pure frustration furrowing the man’s brows. 

Boyd rested his elbows on his desk, clasping his fingers beneath his chin. “But is that why we’re here today?”

Both of the children quietened. 

“What the supervising teacher told me was that she saw Robin push Kevin, who hit her on the face.” He gestured to the bruise on Robin’s chin. “The other children said that Kevin was calling her names. I would like to reiterate that there is a strict, no-violence policy at this school, and would like you both to go home and think about the way you have behaved. Neil, Andrew: You should help them reflect and compose apology letters to one another. I’ll see you all tomorrow morning.”

Andrew glared daggers, standing abruptly and ushering his son out the door. Neil grabbed Robin by the shoulder and dragged her out. 

When they caught up to the other pair, Neil sniped: “Really appreciated being dragged in here, thanks.”

“Maybe butchering is a hereditary thing, hm?” Andrew examined his car-keys. They were sleek, an expensive model that Neil couldn’t possibly name. “Such a shame.” 

Neil fumed. Sensing Neil’s irritation, Andrew turned a blank look on him; Neil wondered how someone with such a void-like gaze could be a parent. 

“Let’s go home.” He murmured. Robin tucked herself into Neil’s side and they hurried out of the administration building together. 

Here’s how it goes:

Neil was almost 24, and coached Exy teams in Couth Carolina’s little league. He’d got out of his family’s criminal history through his Exy scholarship, but never taken it further. He hadn’t even really liked kids, but it was something to do.

Then, because Neil’s tragic existence seemed to be catastrophic for those around him, a car t-boned into a van outside his apartment. Neil, always running in the early hours of the morning, immediately rushed over. The sedan’s driver was a crumpled heap, blood splattered across the windscreen -- he most likely dead, so Neil ignored him. But there were screams coming from the back of the van, so he yanked the damaged door open. 

Bruised and bleeding, curled into the corner of the van, was Robin. She was thrown into the foster system as an infant, and was then kidnapped at the age of three. No one cared about a foster kid going missing. Her missing person’s file was practically non-existent, especially after 2 years. Robin had clambered into his arms as he pulled her out of the back of that van, and he hasn’t had a full night’s sleep since. 

Four years later, he’d set up a scholarship program in the little league, his daughter was making enemies at her new school, and Neil still didn’t regret a thing. 

Andrew sat in the car and thought about the best way to approach this. For Kevin’s sake, he would be a role-model. But every inch of that Josten had him wanting to clench his fists. Of course he knew of him: Exy had gotten him through college. The Josten scandal was everywhere: Leaving the Ravens for the Trojans, Jean Moreau quickly following suit, the Butcher of Baltimore, the Moriyamas, the FBI; Then, settling down to coach kids. That drama had to be almost a decade ago, though. Didn’t matter. Exy had never mattered to Andrew. His degree had also been second thought: His occupation was satisfying, but never thrilling. 

Having a kid, though. Jesus. 

Kevin was a handful and a half. He was brimming with energy and emotion, repressed anger and competitiveness creating a volatile reaction to most situations. Andrew had taken Kevin in after his mother’s death, his old exy coach, Wymack, being the father but being unable to, you know. Father. 

Andrew didn’t understand how the fuck he was meant to be any better. 

“I’m sorry, Andrew.” Kevin didn’t look that apologetic. “She’s just super annoying! And she wouldn’t shut up about how her dad’s team is the best, and she loves her dad, and he’s the best, and how she’s going to play Exy too. Exy, exy, exy. All the time! It drives me insane! She talks so loudly, too. And so much. She never shuts up.”

Andrew could read his son. “Usually people aren’t this successful at getting under your skin, Kevin.”

“I hate her!” He frowned, his lips puckering. It was stupidly adorable. Andrew hated the word adorable. “I really do, you know. She’s always teasing me about liking history and reading my books. She can’t even do maths!”

“Remember what I tell you, Kevin.” Andrew switched on the ignition and swerved out of his car-parking space. He searched for the flash of an expensive sportscar, of which would be presumedly Neil’s, but he couldn’t find one. 

“Be the better person so you can shove their own failures up their asses, I know.” Kevin drew his feet onto the dashboard but Andrew swatted them down.

“No feet on the dashboard.” He pointed at Kevin but the brat pushed his hand away, promptly sticking out his tongue. 

God, why did he decide to have kids?

Oh yeah. He didn’t. Right. 

(Still didn’t believe in regret, though.)

i hope this made sense! 

i just think itd be hilarious lmao imagine seeing a parent in the lobby and be like damn and then figure out that their kid and your kid hate each other

[radiojamming]

Y'know what would be awful? If Joseph never really realizes that Anastasia is his kid until the cage confrontation when he tells her his origin story, but the story he tells her is the one from canon. So not only did her bio dad abandon her and create a cult, but he also tells people he murdered her as a baby for religious street cred.

>:)

(also normally i don’t like taking canon conversation verbatim from its source but i think joseph’s speech is pretty poignant.)

(aaaaand obvious warnings for, uh, joseph’s whole speech about his kid. yeah.)

- - -

The air is weighed down with the stench of smoke and waste. Ana’s eyes sting with it and nausea rises and falls every time she so much as turns her head. That damn song is still echoing in the back of her skull, and if it didn’t stick that Jacob–goddamnit, her uncle–is pretty fucked up, the general state of what she thinks might be his backyard just drives that point home firmly. She’s not sure what the plan for her is, because there’s a handful of things that can be done to people in cages, but the way Pratt stutters and fumbles on his words makes her think that it isn’t going to be anything pretty.

And then she sees her father.

It’s telling that by now, the hair on the back of her neck rises like hackles when she sees him. She’s had a lot of time to parse a few things about since she arrived, through one propaganda session at Jacob’s hands and a swan dive off the statue of her father thanks in part to her adoptive aunt. She hasn’t dealt with John yet, but she has a sneaking suspicion that he wouldn’t treat her much better. Through it all, though, she’s come to realize that all of this is due part and parcel through Joseph. He might not represent the whole machine, but he’s the man that put most of the gears together and winds it up to make it work. If she traces any of this back, she’ll find him at the proverbial reigns.

That thought makes her feel even more sick, even though she knew, to some degree, what she might find. A man running a doomsday cult can only be so mentally healthy, and this has obviously catapulted itself into something that can’t be so neatly defined. 

Joseph comes to her cage, and damn it all if he doesn’t completely act the part of benevolent saint. His expression is all lofty neutrality, like he’s achieved enlightenment and just deigns to walk among mortals now out of a sense of obligation. And then he crouches down to her level, watching her with the firelight reflecting on his lenses.

“I know you are in pain,” he says softly, keeping one hand on a bar in front of her face. “The Lord taketh, and the Lord giveth, huh?” 

He pauses for a moment, and if Ana wasn’t looking for it, she’d miss the strange, dull shine in his eyes. It’s fleeting, lost in a moment.

“But you’re not the only one to be tested,” he says. “Did you know I had a wife?”

He holds out his right arm then, turning it over and pushing aside the rosary, and Ana’s heart palpitates so violently that she thinks she’s going to faint. There, wreathed in datura blossoms, peering through a curtain of dark hair, is the face of her mother. Ana can almost see the woman in the photograph, with her dark hair and her crooked grin. It’s strange to see it all etched on her father’s skin, this funerary portrait. He reverently runs his fingers over the tattoo, tracing the edge of her face, a spot right under her visible eye. It’s gentle, and for a second–just a second–Ana thinks she might understand. She might see what her father and mother were really like.

“So beautiful, isn’t she?” he asks, but obviously to no one in particular. But Ana agrees, because she’s always thought that. She loves the parents who took her in, but she’s always held this secret love for a woman she was never able to meet, tucked in a dusty little corner of her heart. She loves the woman in the photograph, and for this strange moment, she loves the woman her father loves, because this is the first time in her life she’s truly aware of her mother’s presence. Outside of a death certificate and a photograph, she hasn’t really existed until now.

Joseph looks up at Ana then, and the dullness has returned to his eyes, but there’s no shine there now. “We were pregnant with our first child. And we were just babies ourselves, really. And I was terrified,” he says, his voice catching on the last word with something that’s almost a laugh. “On becoming a father. Mostly about money.” He looks up at this, and then there’s a slight tug at his mouth. “She wasn’t worried. She had faith that things were going to work out. She always had faith.”

Ana feels like she’s in a dream, hearing her father talk about her mother, talk about her. It just reminds her that he doesn’t know. He has no idea who he’s speaking to, because by all rights, this situation shouldn’t be happening. He left her in that little hospital right above the Georgia and South Carolina border, and there’s no reason she should reappear in a little county in Montana.

Then–

“And then one day, she was going to go visit a friend. There was an accident… and the Lord taketh.”

Her heart double-beats again, and there’s a cold feeling encroaching on her insides.

“And they rushed me to a hospital and put me in a room with this little pink bundle stuffed with tubes and they told me I had to be strong because my little girl was going to live.”

She stares at him, wide-eyed, throat tightening and burning with an emotion that she has no name for. There is no word on earth for what she feels.

“God was looking out for our daughter. And they left me alone in a room with her. I just… stared,” he says. He’s fixed her with his gaze, but it’s clear that in his head, he’s somewhere far away. “At my daughter. So helpless. So innocent.”

God, he has no clue. 

More than that, Ana now knows he was there. He was with her at the beginning, standing in the shadow of her mother’s death. It starts to make sense, and it starts to fill in those little gaps that have been left in Ana’s head for years; all the hows and whys. She starts to understand him.

“All she had in the world was me; a nobody, from nowhere, with nothing.”

Something in her aches, and tears start to burn at the corners of her eyes. Even after everything, after all of the agony of searching for him and turning up one of the worst possibilities of where he could be– She wants to reach through the bars, reach for him. She wants to say that now she gets it, that she forgives him even though there was no way that she could have known. Because even after all of this, she still thinks of those long nights when she was growing up when she hid under her blankets with a flashlight and looked at her parents at that party, and it felt as though there was a hole in her chest that couldn’t be filled because they weren’t there.

But now he is here, regardless of what he’s become or what he’s done. She can actually see her father in him, in this sad desperation clinging to his voice, this resignation that he just couldn’t be that man–

“And in that moment I knew that God was testing me. He was laying out a path before me and all I had to do was choose,” he says. 

But his voice isn’t… It isn’t right.

Something’s wrong.

“So I put my hand on my little girl’s head and I leaned in and I could smell. And we prayed together,” he says. The voice he speaks in now isn’t him, and that cold, gnawing, empty thing begins to creep into her again. “Prayed for wisdom. Prayed for strength… Then I knew. I heard God’s plan for me.”

No. No, this isn’t him.

“And I took my fingers and I put them on that little plastic tube taped to her angelic face and I pinched it shut,” he whispers. Ana looks at him in horror, seeing his pupils blown wide, his gaze empty and dead. “And after a little while her legs began to kick and kick. Then… nothing. Stillness. Release.”

If he says something after that, Ana doesn’t know. She can’t hear so much as a whisper above the roar in her ears, the raging tempest inside of her head. She’s only dimly aware of her hands trembling on the bars. If anything, she feels like everything happening around her is now happening to someone else, as her vision shifts away from her father’s face to Jacob beside him, staring down at them with an unreadable expression. Then, back to her father.

No, back to the man that was her father.

Because in his words, in his memory, he killed her. He suffocated her and left her for dead, if anything he says is true. And for fuck’s sake, it could be and it couldn’t be, because she doesn’t know if she can believe anything from him anymore. 

She’s aware that he opens his mouth, but then, so does she. She feels the muscles in her jaw tighten and loosen, and she feels that burning in her throat suddenly travel down into her stomach and melt that ice that’s taken hold of her. Then, her grip on the bars doesn’t shake anymore. It tightens, and it holds vise-like on the metal.

“You…” she starts, voice low and furious. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

Passiveness. Of course. He can’t look at her with anything less than that stupid dead-eyed saint look. And he doesn’t say a word.

Good, because she has enough for the both of them.

“You’re a fucking liar, and you know it,” she snarls. God, she’s no better than the wolves. “Do they know? Your followers? Your own fucking family?”

He just stares, but she feels a little gratified to see a pinch in his brow. “What are you talking about, child?” he asks, voice still so deceptively soft. 

“You walked away from that hospital, and you–” She chokes on her words, too angry to deal them out in any way that isn’t outright rage. Instead, she repositions them, tries not to do what her biological family seems so fond of doing, playing around with words and anecdotes and only cutting to the chase when they’ve strung someone along enough. “You didn’t kill her. You walked away.”

Staring. Perfectly passive staring.

Then, for the first time, something like recognition. 

Sometimes, the best thing to do, is to walk away.

Fuck. He said it right then and there, because that’s all he’s ever done. He walked away from his wife’s body, from his child, from a crime scene, from an entire state. Away and away, until he found a place where he didn’t have to walk anymore. 

“You didn’t kill your daughter. You came to the hospital, you identified a body, and then you left,” Ana says, voice staying steady. She’s almost proud of herself for that. “And it took me years to find you again. All I had to work with is a birth certificate and a photograph, and now I don’t even have that.”

Joseph stares for only a moment more. Then, for the first time since she’s met him, he seems completely robbed of speech. His eyes get wider by the second, moving around frantically, trying to– Trying to find someone in her face. 

And she knows he could. She knows because she used to look in her bedroom mirror, trying to find pieces of people that she knew from the photograph. And she knows because she’s looked since then, finding some pieces of her father in places on her face, in the way she carries herself. He’ll find his and his wife’s dark hair there, and his wife’s eyes, his cheekbones, her jaw, the set of her mouth under his slightly crooked nose. He’ll see this delicate mix of two people taking the form of someone that he’s supposed to have murdered.

Ana knows the moment he sees it, because he suddenly stands up straight, taking a full step back from the cage. 

Jacob looks between Ana and Joseph, and Ana knows that Jacob’s too quick-thinking not to understand what’s just happened. There’s a recognition in his expression as well, but there’s now an extra hesitation. Whatever he had planned for her, he’s clearly having to rethink.

“Joseph–” he starts, unsure, but Joseph shakes his head.

“No. No, just…” He shakes his head again, like he’s trying to clear away the possibility. But all he has to do is look at her once more. “Move her. Somewhere. Just not here. I need to…”

He doesn’t say what he needs to do, because suddenly he’s walking away. 

Again.

[ms-demeanor]

Also I’d been meaning to buy one of those “so you think you’re going to die, where are all your documents?” workbooks for my mom because Mortality is a Thing and her younger brother and only surviving sibling died 11 months ago, which got us thinking.

But as it turns out those things are out of stock all the time and cost like 20 bucks so while I’m still working on the Austen zine it has been backburnered in favor of two OTHER things I’m going to make, “The Workbook for the Unfortunately Mortal” and “The Handbook for Unexpected Mourners” and maaaaaaaaybe “Social Engineering for the sake of Closure: Fucking over Megacorporations in the Name of Your Dead Relatives”.

Turns out my dad hasn’t paid a bill in 40 damned years and my mom didn’t document her household accounting stuff super well so I’m learning the itty bitty baby basics of forensic accounting and social engineering is actually helping that a FUCK of a lot but it’s a skill that takes practice that I just *happen* to have and really, who’s easier to pretend to be than someone you were super close to?

Anyway, keep an eye out for free .pdfs because fuck buying this shit on amazon.

And even if you’re young or your spouse is young or your parents are young or your siblings are young or whatever it is, make sure that a person who is essentially your dependent can get into the accounts that make them depend on you.

My dad didn’t even know which checking accounts his pay got deposited into. He discovered a totally forgotten account after three days of digging.

Sidenote:

FUCK FUCK FUCK store cards. One of the major pains in my ass has been this FUCKING credit card that has a minimum monthly fee of $2, which you’ll get a late fee for if you forget to pay it, then your late fee and the $2 will rack up 25% interest charges. This was an account that was TOTALLY paid three weeks ago but that we’re now like $40 in the hole on and my sister sent off a check without calling them to confirm the total amount owed, which I’m pretty sure will actually be more since the check will be getting to them late. Also we closed the account on the 18th but apparently paying on it re-opens it. So anyway I’m probably going to end up burning that fucking parasitic capitalist wankfest to the ground at some point but the thing is if you’re accepting any of the debt you’re accepting all of the debt so triple check everything because it would have been infuriating to have to send a death certificate to cancel a $20 debt to a loathsome pile of festering rot like this company but it’s better than accidentally agreeing to let this company go after you and your credit score for their fucking extortionate, scummy, bilious income.

[canaryatlaw]

Today was......I don't know. It was emotional. Which I guess shouldn't be surprising given its events, but it's never been like this on this case before, at the other hearings. It was just all so real today. But, I'll start from the beginning. I fucked up walking up somehow, I don't even remember how because I was still half asleep, but I got a text off to my supervisor saying I'd be in at 11 and that was fine since we didn't have any morning obligations. I'm never happy when I do things like that because it makes me feel lazy and unmotivated, but oh well. I got to work at 11 and did some more prison call listening (and candy crush playing) which didn't reveal anything all that rich. Idk if I told you, there was one call from the other day that was like the motherlode, they were insulting everyone in the courtroom and saying they should be prosecuted for what they've done and how the GAL has it out for the caseworker and just all of these absolutely ridiculous statements that I couldn't even write down fast enough, so I think that'll be plenty. We were scheduled for 1:30 for our case to come back up but their courtroom was running late so I kept popping into my former boss' office to see if he was up here yet haha, around 12:45 he arrived and not too long the foster parents were there and we were ready to go. The proceedings were.....interesting. So it's the second phase of the termination trial, where the subject is only the best interest of the children, not the parents constitutional right to parent or whatever. The state and GAL (us) had already rested, so it was just time for the 3 defense attorneys to put up their cases, which of course got hectic. Dad #1, who wasn't involved in "the incident" but is just a gang member who deals drugs, went first, so he testified about loving his kids and such and then they had his mother and his sister testify as to how they had rented a house where they could all live if they let the kids return home to them, but like, the dad was already found depraved because of his felony convictions, plus he's done zero services, so that's going be a stretch. I do genuinely have empathy for the family members because they haven't done anything wrong here, but again, this is about the best interest of the children, not the family members. So then dad #2 went, which was probably the most interesting point. First she had the dad's grandma testify with a Spanish interpreter, I guess just about how she wanted her great grandkids in her life and how close their family is and all that. There was a great moment on cross when she said something about telling the dad they didn't like his "girlfriend" and the ASA was like REALLY LETS EXPLORE THIS and I had to cover my smirk, which is really something I need to get better at because I get far too amused during court proceedings. The real show through was with the letter dad #2 wanted admitted to the judge but we wouldn't stipulate to foundation, so the dad (when I'm talking about this dad, remember he's actually a 17/18 year old) had to get on the stand to establish he wrote the letter and such, and then of course it was time for cross and we wanted to get into the contents of the letter, but the judge kept the scope pretty limited, but that's TBC....I don't think moms attorney actually called any witnesses, she just admitted some certificates of classes mom had completed is jail. I mean, there's really no valid argument she could've made there given the circumstances. Anyone they put on the stand could be massively screwed on cross. So then she rested and there gets to be "rebuttal" and we were kind of colluding with the ASA and we decided to call dad 2 as our witness and ask about the letter which were are allowed to do, though his lawyer objected since the GAL doesn't have the burden of proof they shouldn't be able to do rebuttal, but the judge overruled that. So they got into the letter and really grilled him on it, a lot of it was argumentative by nature cuz he's like "I'm a changed man since I've seen my children born" so the question is "so before this you didn't know it was wrong to starve a 4 year old to death?" Part of the reason we called him though instead of the state is because then technically the state gets to cross and has a better scope. I was watching his attorney while the questioning was happening and it started to look like she was maybe giving him cues for answers??? Like I couldn't tell if she was just kind of nodding along in solidarity or cueing him when to say yes, so I motion for the ASA and tell him and we both just end up looking at her for the rest of the questioning. It was probably nothing, or if anything harmless, but I felt kind of proud of myself for noticing it and bringing attention t it, lol. The letter started with him saying "first I just wanted to say I'm sorry for everything" and the ASA just stood up and was like "so what are you sorry for?" And he goes to answer but then his lawyer jumps up and is like MY CLIENT IS ASSERTING HIS FIFTH AMENDMENT RIGHT AGAINST SELF INCRIMINATION AND REFUSES TO ANSWER so the judge just asked him are you going to take your attorneys advice? And he said yes and didn't answer and it was epic because that was EXACTLY what we wanted to happen because it makes him look guilty as sin, and it's something the finder of fact is allowed to draw negative inferences from. So that was great. Then it was just closing arguments, and things got heavy. State went first of course, and laid out the trauma these kids have experienced and how they now have permanency in each of their foster homes and it was in their best interest to have their parental rights terminated. So then we went. Since our clients are the kids of course we talked more about them, and my former boss was talking about what the siblings said in the VSI's about how they lived in the home with the corpse of their dead sibling for days while having to listen to the mom and boyfriend talk about ways to dispose of the body, including, which I hadn't heard up until this point, knocking his teeth out with a baseball bat so they couldn't identify him by dental records. And for whatever reason, that fact was my tipping point. I could feel my heart just sinking in my chest and I closed my eyes for a few seconds to try and compose myself. And I managed to do so for when I had to. The defense closing arguments were like- dad #1- well he wasn't involved in killing the kid and he has good family support, dad #2 cited some specific passages of the juvenile court act about culture and tradition and then just said to consider the age of her client and how is rehabilitatable. I think moms attorney just adopted their argument about culture and stuff and that was pretty much it. At the start the judge told us he wasn't gonna give a ruling today, he'd take it under advisement and return for a ruling on another date. So we got another date, June 22nd (of course over a month away). I can't blame him though, because this is such a high profile case he has to make sure he gets everything right because no matter what this case will be appealed and he has to do everything he possibly can to make sure that doesn't happen. We might actually get a written opinion out of it, which I'd be super interested to read (we almost never get written opinions out of trial courts). But yeah, that about ended the day. Bus home, made dinner quickly and accidentally melted part of the plastic handle of the rubber spatula by leaving it in the pan and having it rest on the side....oops. At least it was minor. And then it was time to watch the flash. Spoilers ahead, obviously. I think I had actually managed to not get myself too worked up about Snart returning and was going into it with the mindset that I may not get what I want here, so I think that made the overall actions, although still disappointing, at least more bearable. But yes, I'm disappointed that they didn't take this as an opportunity to bring him back to life when they could've easily worked it into the storyline. There was a moment, when Len was trapped in with King shark and Barry was on the other side of the door I was like OH SHIT because the timeline damage if Len got killed right there instead of the oculus.....??????? Like holy fuck, that could've gone in so many directions. But that was quickly handled so crisis averted. I did very much enjoy captain cold in the episode, he was at top snark level and pretty much everything he did was fantastic. On the rest of the episode, well it felt extremely weak to me for Lyla to be like "no" upfront and then after Barry fucking breaks into ARGUS and like potentially compromised national security she was like "oh take it because it's true love!"......I was just like, really? That was the best you could do? Just...ugh. Return Len to Siberia, as has been noted is not a location that we know of the legends visiting yet, was interesting, but I feel like this is more them retconning and being lazy in not exactly wanting to establish when during season 1 of LOT did they grab him from rather than we're going to go to Siberia in 1892 with Len on the waverider in the future. I would love to be proven wrong there, though. The ending...I wasn't expecting them to go as far as they did because they still need a fucking season finale, but they did go there and I'm sorry, I don't believe for two seconds that Iris is actually "dead" and the fucking season finale is just them mourning. Like, no. I've never for a second believed they were actually going to kill off Iris, and that's only gotten stronger as the season goes on. That being said I have no idea how they're gonna fix this next episode, but they've come up with enough creative/ridiculous solutions to seemingly impossible problems before so I'm sure they'll figure something out. I could probably keep going but for times sake I'll move on because PRISON BREAK. Just yes, all the Wentworth Miller on my tv screen <3 and Michael and Sara reunited and it was the most precious thing ever and everything I could've dreamed of and then FUCKING HANK HAS TO SHOW UP AND RUIN EVERYTHING WHEN I TOLD YOU ALL HE WAS A BAD EGG TO BEGIN WITH. FUCKING HANK. (If you're really confused right now, just know that I refuse to refer to Jacob by his actual character name because I hate him too much). It was a good twist though, but now I'm like ahhhh for Michael Jr and Sara's safety as this fucking nut job is running around and of course Linc and Michael and crew have to find their way back into the US, so that'll bring all sorts of new adventures. So that was good. I didn't do much of substance after that, so I think I'm gonna call it here and go to bed because it's really late and I have to actually force my ass out of bed at 7 am. So goodnight babes. Stay sweet.

[canaryatlaw]

I'm....tired. I was majorly MIA on here today I know, I was just doing a million other things, lol. Tuesday's are just so long, my 14 hour days...sigh. But today was fine. Woke up at 7 and went to work, and there was the whole birth certificate debacle that I wrote about earlier and won't repeat her because I don't want to get re-irritated about it, but it was nice to hear that my supervisor stood up for me. I worked on typing up the final prayer for relief on my motion then, which didn't take very long at all. But other than that I didn't really have much to do for the morning, so I mostly tried to memorize mock trial stuff (no just reading fan fiction for now) and then one of the lawyers gave me a file with a criminal investigation report to fill out. The kid's 15 and has been "on run" from her group home placement since October (I swear the way they straight up lose kids in the system is appalling) and they strongly suspect she's with her bio mom in Wisconsin, and of course she can get in trouble for keeping her when she's not supposed to. The odd thing is that she's really adopted by a maternal great aunt who was indicated for neglect and is the reason she was placed in the system in the first place, but apparently she was in the system in Wisconsin when she was younger and then was adopted by her maternal great aunt. Just reading the file made me really sad though. This poor girl. I'm definitely more sensitive for kids that are around my sister's age, because she's my baby sister, and if they're the same age they're really just children too, and the way they've been treated is just awful. Like, yes of course this girl has legit behavior problems, I'm not going to deny that. But the adoptive mother straight up left the girl at the hospital after being told she didn't qualify for admission to the psych ward because she "couldn't deal with her anymore" and refused to let her come home. Like....what the fuck??? I don't care if she's adopted, THATS YOUR FUCKING CHILD, you don't just abandon them like that because you don't want to deal with them anymore. I was so, so irritated. And the weird part is the adoptive mother has enough money to not qualify for a PD and has to get a private attorney (which I've literally only seen in a handful of cases) which meant she has the resources to get her help, but no, she just dumps her on the system.....ugh. And then this child is talking about how her adoptive mother previously shipped her off to live with her bio mother or father and how she was using and dealing drugs while she was there and had been prostituting while there as well. Like.....this girl is 15 years old for fuck's sake, and she's already been through hell, and all I know is she deserves so much better than this. These are exactly the kind of cases that make me want to fix the system so badly, when atrocious things are going on that the system just doubles down on and compounds. I was so annoyed, but anyway. I worked on that for a while into the afternoon, and then told my supervisor I was out of work, so he gave me a file that's up for a permanency hearing on Thursday and asked if I could see if there was a child behavior assessment in there on the second kid as we had one for the first, then asked if I wanted to handle the permanency hearing on Thursday and of course I said yes so I looked through the file and read it to familiarize myself with the case. My supervisor had told me a little about it, it's yet another child death, except this time the child death was in 1996 and the current case is about the kids she had after getting out of prison for 10 years (because please tell me how serving 10 years after being convicted of first degree murder for throwing your newborn into a dumpster where he was taken to the dump and crushed to death is okay by any means at all), and of course these kids got taken right away and the rights were already terminated, so there's nothing to contest, just trying to move towards adoption. The thing here is that the foster parent who's had the kids they're whole lives and wants to adopt just almost lost the placement because she let her out on electronic monitoring heroin dealer boyfriend move into the home without telling the agency, and said she didn't see what the problem was because he would never do anything to hurt the kids. Sigh....So that should be interesting, I'm excited though. I did that for most of the afternoon, and I did stop in to see my friend from last semester who had the office across from mine and fill her in on everything I'm doing now, she was impressed that the first motion they put me on is a big contested thing and not like, a motion to extend wardship or something basic like that, lol. The motion got officially printed up today though and it has my name on it and everything and I'm so excited lol. I'm a dork I know. But it was nice to see her and chat for a bit. Headed out at 5 and headed to the other courthouse (my exciting life) for trial ad. I knew tonight's class was gonna be kind of a mess because it was all about getting exhibits into evidence and it was just all over the place and our instructor wanted us to do different things than what was in the book....sigh. I was a witness again but the prompt was like super vague and gave me nothing to build a character on, but I did crack a few jokes on cross that got some laughs (like saying the assailants were wearing white polo shirts with popped collars and how my computer bag that was stolen also contained my 400 page graphic novel I've been pouring my life into for the past 5 years because why the fuck not?) so that was mildly entertaining at least. Other than that the class dragged though and we once again went like 10 minutes over which was annoying. Came home from there, and of course turned on legends when I got home. It's late and I'm tired so I don't want to write too much on it here especially because I already wrote a lot on Twitter, but I loved tonight's episode and I think it's my favorite episode to date really. They did such a good finally interweaving the historical plot with the villain scheme in a way that works and adds to both of them instead of having to choose one or the other. I don't like seeing Sara hurt of course, but I knew actually killing her off right now would be the dumbest thing the writers could possibly do, and I don't think they're THAT stupid (or at least not Arrow writers re Laurel stupid) so I wasn't really worried there, plus I knew if they actually did something like that it would've been all over Twitter by the time I got to watch the episode. I loved her interactions with Jax and Stein throughout it, and I adored how Jax was so intent on saving her and was fighting off Rip and almost fucking killed him (I was like okay I don't actually want him to shoot Rip but I kind of want him to shoot Rip) and they've done their sibling like relationship so ridiculously well this season I love every minute of it. And then FUCKING RIP, MAN. I was literally just starting to tolerate him, lol, and I know he was rewired by the legion but still, I don't know if I can ever forgive him for actually fucking killing Sara (though I maintain that even after being shot and going through surgery Sara would've been able to fight Rip off and not just lay there helpless). The Mick and George Washington bromance was epic and I loved it. I was largely meh on the whole Nate/Amaya thing just because I don't see how it added to the story at all other than having a romance for the sake of romance and it felt totally out of the blue because they literally haven't done anything T lead up to this point. Sigh. It could have potential to be a good storyline, but I don't particularly ship them right now or have much confidence that I ever will. Okay, I think that's enough and my eyes want to be closed now, so I will be doing that now. Goodnight friends. Hope you sleep well.