#when there are children in abusive homes who reach out for help but are ignored bc they are seen as toruble makers or the parents just lie

[majoringinsarcasm]

Remember when they could pretend all the anti trans bills were to protect children from predators and now that want to just. Stop anyone ever from transitioning?

[nadvs]

home before dark (part four)

pairing rafe cameron x kook! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary as children, you and rafe were best friends, but then tragedy suddenly struck his family and he shut everybody out. years later, you need his help when a pushy ex-boyfriend won’t leave you alone. rafe is perfect for the job because everybody’s afraid of him. except for you.

content warnings stalker ex, violence, substance abuse, death and mourning of parent

» masterlist

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Rafe is being selfish again. When he offered to sleep in your room, it was so you’d feel safe. But that wasn’t entirely why he did it.

He’d be a liar if he said it wasn’t for him, too. Something about being around you gives him a sense of quiet when he’s so used to noise.

It’s disorienting feeling a pull to someone he used to avoid, but life stopped making sense to him a long time ago, so why try to find the logic?

Rafe collects the blanket and pillow from the guest bed he slept on last night, figuring he’ll just sleep on your floor.

The way he touched you earlier tonight is playing like a song in his head. When did he get so soft? He’s hardly ever sober for this long. It must be messing with him. It was just a kiss on your cheek, but his heart pounds when he thinks about it.

Then you noticed his gun and looked at him with such disgust that he knows you’d be horrified to learn what his mind sounds like these days. To learn how much anger he has burning through his veins. You’d run in the opposite direction.

You told him you’ve never said anything bad about him. He’d like to keep it that way. So he’ll take all this fake stuff and enjoy it from a distance, far enough removed from you to avoid taking any risks.

You’ve been tucked into bed for a few minutes when Rafe comes through your open door, darkness filling every corner of the room.

After you accepted his offer downstairs, you parted tensely, as if either of you had said one wrong word, the agreement to sleep in your room together would lose all legitimacy.

Rafe’s tall figure quietly makes a bed on the floor a few feet away. He lets out a low grunt when he lies down, turned away from you.

You stare at his back, thinking about how he said whatever you did wrong wasn’t on purpose. You should probably let it go. He’ll never talk about it. But the curiosity is relentless.

After a few minutes of watching Rafe turn from his back to his side over and over, you break the silence.

“Is your brain doing it again?” you ask. Your voice makes the knot in his chest loosen.

“What?” he rasps.

“Is it not turning off?”

He doesn’t respond. You talked about this hours ago at the party, but it stayed with you. He’s not used to this much attention on him. He usually has to fight for it.

“If it isn’t, maybe I could bore you to sleep,” you offer.

“I bet you could.” A second later, Rafe feels a pillow you threw from your bed hit his chest and roll beside him. He smirks in the dark.

You clarify, “I meant I could distract you.”

“For real this time? I don’t need another interrogation.” You love that you can hear a smile in his voice and hate that you can’t see it. Little by little, he’s acting like your friend again.

“Since when is asking one question an interrogation?” Last night, all you did was ask why he was helping you.

“See?”

“Oh, my God,” you sigh with a laugh. “Okay, let me think… I can tell you about the errands I ran today?”

“I’ll be out cold in a minute.” You laugh again and Rafe smiles up at the ceiling. Making you feel safe feels good. Making you laugh like that feels even better.

“Rude,” you say. “Pass me that pillow so I can throw it at you again.”

In the dark, you watch him reach for the pillow on the floor and tuck it under his arm. You breathe out a chuckle.

You pull your duvet up to your chin, unable to believe that the same Rafe who ignored your every attempt to talk, who wouldn’t even hold eye contact with you, is on the floor of your room, joking around with you.

You start to ramble about the shopping you did after he left your house this morning, getting into every menial detail, down to the long line at the gas station.

At first, Rafe can’t imagine falling asleep to this. Your voice humming through the dark is soothing and even though you’re trying to make your story boring, he’s interested.

But eventually, his eyelids get heavier. You’re dozing off, too, but it’s not until you hear his breaths grow deeper that you allow yourself to succumb to the fatigue.

Your senses are blurred and bleeding into each other like paint on a messy canvas, and while you’re confused, you know one thing for sure: you’re terrified.

Ty’s behind the wheel and the car is barreling down the busy freeway at a vicious speed. It’s storming and he’s laughing and you can’t scream. You can’t even speak.

Anne’s car is coming right for yours and Ty won’t slow down no matter how hard you try to gain control of the wheel and you brace for impact, but suddenly you’re in your fifth grade class and you’re crying and everyone is staring at you.

You wake up to big hands holding your shoulders, gently shaking you. A low and soft voice whispers your name, coaxing you to wake up.

Your eyes open to see Rafe standing over you in the dark and you realize your cheeks are wet with tears. Consciousness slowly wraps around you. It was a nightmare.

Your adrenaline pushes you to sit up, your chest heaving. His hands drop off of you, but he’s still standing and leaning over your bed, inches away.

“Bad dream?” he asks over the sound of your shallow breaths. Your whimpers are what woke him up. Hearing you crying in your sleep like that was painful.

You rub both eyes with your knuckles and try to catch up with reality.

“I was in the car with Ty and he was driving too fast and then I saw your mom-” You immediately shut up. In your fog, you forgot what you’re allowed to say and what you’re not, and by the way Rafe stands straight, you know you messed up.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, reaching for his hand. His fingers are still and don’t curl around yours. The fact that you pull him towards you shows just how disoriented you are. “Can you sleep up here?”

“What?”

“Can you sleep up here?” you mumble dazedly. Rafe’s already sinking onto the mattress before you finish asking your repeated question.

You turn to face him when he lies down. You curl into a ball, your hand still gripping his as you try to breathe slower. You remember your other pillow is on the floor and you lift your head to shift your pillow to the middle so that he can rest his head on it, too.

Rafe stares ahead, listening to your fast breathing and his loud heartbeat. He’s struck that even when you’re in a half-asleep trance, your instinct is to make sure he’s comfortable.

And to ask him to lie next to you. To be close when there’s nobody around to prove your pretend relationship to. You actually find comfort in him. He thought he was starting to find it in you, too, but then you mentioned her.

You shudder when Rafe’s hand twists out from yours, losing the anchor reminding you that none of it was real. But then you realize he did it to put his palm on your cheek.

“You’re good,” he reassures you. He frowns when he feels a tear on your skin. “It’s alright.”

You nod under his touch, your eyes shut, swallowing hard and cupping his wrist. He’s still trembling from withdrawal.

The dream took you to when you were ten and Rafe’s desk was empty and your teacher told the class he lost his mom a couple of nights ago, so you’d spend the period making sympathy cards for him.

It’s important we show him he’s not alone, she said and you were so upset that you didn’t know how to do that when you were supposed to be best friends. You stared at a blank piece of paper for long enough that your teacher told you that you could work on something else.

You did eventually make him a card. And you visited. And you called. And you tried talking to him over and over.

But nothing you did or said was ever good enough. He shut everybody out and you were no exception. Maybe someone else would be mad at him for it, but you couldn’t ever find it in your heart to be. You still can’t.

“I’m sorry,” you say into the dark, wishing he knew just how heavy the pain you carry for him is. You feel frantic now, the emotions washing over you with no mercy, as if you just learned she died all over again. “I’m sorry for everything. You were just a kid-”

“Don’t,” Rafe interrupts. “Just sleep.”

You sniffle and he swears he can feel his heart crack but he can’t indulge you. He can’t open the wound he pretends isn’t still bleeding. He can’t talk about how his life crumbled into ruins and he’s still sitting in the rubble.

He lost his mother, his security, and eventually his mind, and there’s no point in talking about what he can never get back.

Rafe’s hand slips off of your cheek but your fingers remain wrapped around his wrist. He lets you keep holding onto him as you fall back asleep.

The sunlight is coming through slitted blinds when Rafe’s eyes open. He couldn’t see your room last night, but now that he can study the space that is so you, his mind starts racing.

You’re asleep next to him, head tilted towards him on the pillow you’re sharing. He gazes over your pretty features, the slope of your nose, the shape of your lips.

How could someone so sweet hurt him so fucking bad? Last night was brutal. You mentioning his mom without any warning was like a sharp jolt of electricity. He was an idiot to think he could find comfort in you.

You’ll always remind him of it. Of the helplessness and the horror and the agony. He can’t handle it. Even if you never talk about it again, your presence alone is a reminder.

You shuffle awake and reach out for him, but his side of the bed is cold. He’s not on the floor, either. You look out the window to see his motorcycle is still where he parked it last night.

When you come down to the front room, Rafe is in the same chair he sat in the night of the storm, grudgingly playing with his ring, staring ahead with a hard frown.

He sees you and immediately stands up, eyes darting away from you like the last few days didn’t happen at all. All his coldness is back.

“Finally,” he grunts. You watch him stalk past you with screwed up lips. “Lock the door behind me.”

You realize he was waiting for you to wake up. And now he’s acting like you’re contagious with something he’d rather die than catch, rushing out of your home, triggering the alarm when he opens the front door.

You follow him to punch the code into the security system and then quickly open the door he closed, watching him stride down the steps towards his bike.

You’re in a haze. Last night, he held you so gently and you fell asleep inches away from each other. This morning, he can’t get away fast enough.

It’s what you said. You mentioned his mom. You knew it was out of bounds, but you were so frightened and disoriented and spoke without thinking.

“Wait,” you say to his back. But Rafe continues on his way, making you feel just like you did in your nightmare. You’re speaking but it’s like nothing is coming out.

“Please don’t go back to ignoring me,” you call louder, a shake in your voice. This makes him pause. You swing the door shut behind you and close the distance, stepping out into the brisk morning air.

You face him and he looks absolutely wrecked. Guilt digs its sharp claws into your heart.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him. “I was out of it.”

Rafe stares down at the paved ground, his jaw tightening.

“You’re always gonna remind me,” he mutters.

His sentence is simple, but it carries the weight of your broken friendship. It hits you that you could never mention the past again, not a single memory or anything about his loss, and it still wouldn’t be enough. You’re a constant reminder.

“That’s why you never wanted anything to do with me?” you say. Rafe looks at you again. Your eyes have lost all their light.

It’s just a part of the reason the bridge between you can’t ever be rebuilt, but talking about it with you is torture, so he’ll let you believe that that’s all there is to it.

“You can go,” you say quietly, stepping back. If being with you just brings back painful memories to him, you won’t subject him to it any longer.

Every muscle in Rafe’s body aches as he drives home. His head is hammering with pain and his bones weigh a million pounds and he’d kill for a hit of anything right now. He needs the escape.

Just when he thought he found a place to slow down, you reminded him of why he’s always running. As soon as he’s sure your ex is done bothering you, he’s out.

As you watch Rafe drive away, the gate opens when the sensor detects a vehicle leaving the property, and you notice the mailbox is open.

You pick up the mail to see an envelope with your name handwritten on it. Panicked, you rush back inside, locking the door. You know it’s Ty, finding yet another way to contact you.

You would’ve noticed the mailbox was open when you got home with Rafe last night. He did this overnight or early this morning.

When you finally find the courage to read his letter, dread forces its way into your body so roughly that you’re not sure you’ll ever feel happy again.

You feel some relief when Sarah texts in the group chat a couple of hours later asking if anyone wants to go shopping. It’s the distraction you need.

It’s late afternoon when you meet her and your mutual friend Lia at the mall, trying to get your mind off of Rafe’s coldness and Ty’s persistence and your own pain.

Afterwards, Sarah invites you both to her house and soon, the three of you are sitting in her room, chatting and listening to music.

The door is open and when a figure passes by, you look up to see Rafe. He glances at you for a second, then goes right back to ignoring you, continuing on his way without another second of hesitation.

When he got home, he took a couple of shots before he fell asleep in his bed. He woke up still partly buzzed and he can’t handle seeing or talking to you right now.

Sarah shakes her head in the corner of your eye. She noticed him, too.

“Jesus, Rafe, that’s how you treat your girlfriend?” she half-shouts. Two pairs of eyes land on you as your friends await your reaction.

“We’re in a fight,” you say, anxious that the topic has come up and that you’ll have to lie your way through it.

“Already? Didn’t you just start dating?” Lia says.

“Yeah, it’s sad,” you say with a downcast laugh.

Rafe chews on his thumbnail as he kneels against the hallway wall. He should’ve kept walking, but he’s secretly hanging onto your every word.

“I still can’t believe you guys are together,” she says. “I didn’t even know you liked him.”

“I did,” Sarah laughs. You look at her with wide eyes. “Come on, you never let anyone say anything bad about him.”

“Why do you?” Your eyes jump to Lia.

“Why do I what?” you say, trying to play it off.

“Like him,” Lia replies.

You figure while all of this is a sham, you can at least answer this question with full honesty.

“He takes care of me,” you say. You think about how you laughed together in your bedroom last night. “And I have fun with him.”

Regret gnaws at Rafe. Even though you’re upset with him, you still speak of him kindly. His growing feelings for you would be so much easier to get rid of if you were like everybody else, writing him off, calling him psycho.

“Yeah, you look like you’re having a lot of fun,” Lia replies with a playful nudge, trying to bring some humor to the room. “Seriously, are you okay? You seem off.”

You believe it. Your mind doesn’t feel any clearer since last night’s nightmare.

“I’m really freaked out because of Ty,” you admit.

“It’s crazy that he’s still bothering you,” Sarah says.

“It is. He won’t stop. I saw footprints outside my front door last night and I think they were his. That would mean he found a way around the gate,” you tell them. “And then there was a letter from him in my mailbox this morning. It was so creepy.”

Rafe’s body stiffens.

“God, that’s like stalker level,” Lia says. “What’d it say?”

The sound of Rafe saying your name interrupts you. You look up to see him standing in the doorway, staring at you. He cocks his head, silently beckoning you to come out.

When you face him in the corner of the hallway, far from Sarah’s room, you cross your arms and let him start the conversation.

“That asshole left you a letter?” Rafe mutters quietly. “Why didn’t you call me?”

Embarrassment turns in your stomach. He was eavesdropping.

“You wouldn’t have answered,” you reply.

“Yeah, I would’ve,” he says sternly. “What’d he write?”

You bite your bottom lip in anguish, choking back your tears.

You’re clearly shaken up. Rafe’s protective instinct overpowers him. He grasps your arm, squeezing gently, giving into his every impulse around you like he always does. You breathe slowly, eyes darting away.

“What did he write?” he repeats. His hand is so warm, a hard contrast from how cold you know he can be.

Your mind turns over the scribbled words on the crumpled page Ty left for you. It was mainly nonsensical, but some phrases stuck with you like a dagger to your heart.

“That he and I are meant to be,” you recall. “And that I know deep down we’re supposed to be together and he’ll keep waiting until I realize it.”

“What a fucking creep,” Rafe snarls, dropping his hand off of you. He’s not going to miss the next opportunity to beat the hell out of the guy and get him away for you for good.

The intensity of your nightmare and the shock from your argument still hurts, and as you look at Rafe, his hair falling over his forehead, his skin pale and his lips pursed in anger, you don’t have it in you to ask him to continue doing this for you.

“You don’t have to do this anymore,” you say. “I’ll stay with friends until my parents get back.”

“What?” Rafe’s pulse quickens. This thing with you isn’t real, he knows that, but it feels like you’re breaking up with him.

“We’re just hurting each other,” you tell him.

“No,” he says. “No. I’m keeping you safe. I’m taking care of you.”

He can’t possibly be hurting you. He can’t be fucking up yet another thing in his life.

“Rafe,” you exhale, defeated. “This whole thing was a bad idea. I’m just a reminder to you. And you’re…”

“I’m what?” he asks.

“You’re always going to keep me at a distance,” you say.

You hang on to what feels like your last shred of hope. You wait, hoping he’ll deny it, hoping he’ll finally meet you in the middle. You thought you had infinite faith that he’d let you in again. But after this morning, you’ve reached the end.

“Listen, I’m…” Rafe begins. Being with you hurts sometimes, but he can’t allow you to be in any danger. “I’m not letting you deal with him on your own.”

“I won’t be on my own,” you respond. He scoffs. Your friends couldn’t scare him off like he can.

“I can’t risk anything happening to you,” he says quickly. “Just… we’ll keep doing this until he finally gets it, alright?”

You’ve been barely grasping onto hope and his words are enough to keep you from letting go. That’s when you accept the fact that you’re doomed. You’ll never give up on him.

“Alright,” you say. Until he finally gets it. Your time with Rafe is limited. But nonetheless, it’s time.

He breathes out in relief. The possibility of disappointing you is more painful than he imagined. He can’t mess this up.

You leave him standing in the hallway, knowing you’ll have to walk away for good when all of this is over. You wonder if you’ll be able to do it without it breaking your heart.

Later in the evening, Sarah invites a few more friends over, who then invite their friends, and soon, the backyard of the Cameron estate is buzzing with conversation and laughter, the beach a glittering backdrop to the spontaneous party. You’re not surprised the space filled up so fast. This is all Kooks do these long summer days.

You find relief in the fact that Ty probably wouldn’t come. Not to Rafe’s house. You stand by your group of friends under the setting sun, the crowd growing around you.

When you spot one of Ty’s friends, your stomach sinks. If he’s here, maybe your ex is, too. It’s best to be cautious.

You search the crowd for Rafe. You noticed him a little while back, drinking with his friends, but he’s nowhere to be found now.

When you break from your group to ask Rafe’s friends where he went, they only offer you shrugs.

You slip into the quiet house, your heart starting to pound at the possibility of Ty finding you and Rafe not being around.

You find Rafe’s name in your phone and dash up the grand stairs, your phone to your ear as you decide to hide in Sarah’s room until you’re sure you’re safe.

It rings once before he answers.

“You okay?” he says.

“Where are you?”

“I’m - uh…” Rafe starts to clean away the lines of coke he made on his nightstand. He never hid it before, but with you around, he’s ashamed of his drug use now. That he needs it. That he couldn’t stay away. He finished his first line before you called. “I’m in my room.”

“I’ll be right there,” you say.

He panics, spilling the powder in his rush, wondering how many seconds he has left before you catch him mid-relapse.

The door opens and he catches your eyes darting to the hardwood floor, covered with coke he didn’t clean up on time.

Rafe’s at the edge of his bed, glaring up at you.

The last time you were in this room, he was just an innocent kid, and now he’s hunched over and drugged up and living through grief you’re not sure he’ll ever be able to bear.

He tries to shove past the shame, focusing on what he’s supposed to be focusing on.

“Is he here?” Rafe asks, standing up, filled with a rush of energy from the drugs.

He approaches you, his pupils blown, rubbing his nose. You stare up at him with concern. He’s so obviously trying to hide the fact that he just used.

“I don’t know,” you say. “I saw his friend and I thought I should find you in case he came.”

“Shit,” he mumbles, erratically shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have left you alone out there.”

“It’s okay-”

“It’s not,” Rafe says, his agitation growing. He was fighting the urge to use as long as he could. Then he told himself he’d just do a couple of lines and go back downstairs, but something could have happened to you in those few minutes. “It’s not okay. I fucked up. All I do is fuck up.”

You watch him pace back towards his bed, raking his hand through his hair. He’s nearly hysterical.

“That’s not true,” you say. Is that really what he thinks of himself?

“You don’t…” Rafe lets out a defeated huff as he sits on his bed, his head in his hands. “You don’t know me.”

It’s a painful reminder. But he’s right.

He stands up again, his breaths heavy. He needs to get this anxiety and anger and fear out the best way he knows how. With a fight.

“He better not be here,” he mutters.

Rafe stalks past you quickly and you follow him as he rushes down the stairs.

He darts towards the crowd scattered across the backyard. You trail him as he pushes through groups, his fists clenched tight.

He realizes your ex isn’t here and turns to look down at you in the middle of the crowd.

“Who’s his friend?” he asks, panting. You can tell that at this point, he just wants to hit someone. He doesn’t care who. And you’re not going to lead him to a guy who hasn’t done anything wrong.

“He has nothing to do with this,” you say over the chattering surrounding you. “Ty isn’t here, okay? That’s what matters. I’m safe. You didn’t fuck anything up.”

The worry in your eyes is almost too much for Rafe. He doesn’t get you. Whatever you see in him doesn’t exist. He feels like he needs to prove to you how wrong you are.

“I couldn’t last two nights,” he says. “I wanted to get clean and I couldn’t last two nights.”

Your face falls. The ground you’re both on feels shaky. You didn’t know he thought so low of himself.

“It’s not all or nothing,” you say. “You don’t have to get it on the first try. It’s…” You almost say an addiction, but you don’t want to insult him.

“It’s a habit and it takes time to break,” you conclude.

Rafe exhales shakily, his body jittery. He looks so upset that you couldn’t leave his side if you tried.

“I need to get away from all this noise,” you say. “Can we go down to the water?”

Rafe curtly nods. He needs to get away, too. The commotion around him is only fuelling his rage.

You stride towards the boardwalk leading to the private beach. The party wasn’t too loud for you at all, but he looked overwhelmed, so you fibbed just to get him out of the chaos.

You quietly walk towards the beach under the dark orange sky. Even with the baggage between you, it feels good to be by his side like this. You just wish it didn’t hurt him to be around you.

You ran up and down this boardwalk so many times as kids. One morning, you fell and scraped your knee and even though you were fine, Rafe put his arm around you to lean on him the whole way back up to the house so his mother could bandage you up.

Now it’s your turn to help him. However you can.

You make it to the sand. The crowd’s sound is just a dull roar behind you now that you’ve reached the beach.

You look over at Rafe to see his chest still rapidly rising and falling as he gazes out at the sea. You wonder why he was hiding it. He never shied away from snorting lines in the middle of a party before.

But by the look on his face, you can tell. He’s ashamed. His words ring in your head. All I do is fuck up.

“You can do it,” you tell him. “You can quit.”

Rafe looks at you and expels a dismissive scoff.

“Doubt it,” he murmurs.

You settle onto the sand, legs stretched out towards the water.

“Why?” you ask.

He stares out at the sea again, the shallow waves curling and tumbling into the shore beneath the setting sun. When he thinks about the hours you two spent out here, it’s like the memories aren’t even his.

He leans to sit next to you, arms resting on his propped up knees. You want so badly to talk about all the silly games and conversations you had out here years ago, but you know better now.

“Why do you care so much?” Rafe finally says, his voice low. You gaze at his profile and notice his lower lip just barely tremble. There’s a fragility in his face that you’ve never seen before.

You take a breath. How can you possibly answer without bringing up the past?

“I just do. Whether you want me to or not.” You say it with a soft chuckle in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

His shoulders slump. Before all this started, he was sure nobody cared about him. Not really. Not when it mattered. But you do.

You bite your lip, desperate to make him feel better.

“I’m not scared of him when you’re around,” you say. “I didn’t think that was possible. And maybe you weren’t downstairs when I was looking for you, but you answered my call right away. So, no, you don’t fuck everything up. You’re helping me when you don’t even have to.”

“I do have to,” he replies.

“Why do you think that?” You know he has a sense of loyalty towards you, a sense of owing you something, but maybe, just maybe, he’ll give you a warmer answer this time.

Rafe’s heart is racing. He’s failed so much. He failed making his own dad like him. He failed staying away from the coke. He’s not going to fail you.

“You’re the only person left who gives a shit,” he admits, unable to say about me out loud.

His words send a shiver through you. Just like in your bed last night, even though there’s nobody around to prove anything to, you touch him. You cup your hand around the inside of his elbow and squeeze.

Feeling your skin on his is a rush for him every time. The only contact he’s had with other people for years has been violent. But you’re so gentle with him and it unravels his anger.

Rafe swallows the lump in his throat. Or he tries to. But he can’t. The coke is making him manic. He took too much. He’s overwhelmed by your affection and he can’t stop what his body’s doing in response.

When you watch a tear run over the curve of his cheek, your shock and concern and sadness give you an ache so painful, your breath hitches.

Before he can try to leave, you lean on him, your temple pressed against his shoulder.

He’s humiliated. He’s actually fucking crying in front of you. So much for being the strong person keeping you safe. Behind everything he pretends to be, he’s weak.

It’s odd to cry in front of someone and not have them tell him to man up. You simply nuzzle against him and tighten your grip.

“Rafe!” someone calls in the distance. “Dude, what the hell? Why’d you leave?”

You both look back to see a group of his buddies stumbling down the boardwalk, laughing drunkenly.

“Shit,” Rafe grunts, wiping his eyes with the heels of his hands. His friends are probably looking for some blow. They can’t see him like this. He’s pissed you’re seeing him like this.

You can see how his guard is suddenly up again, how frantic he is to cover his tears.

“Should I…” you stammer, “try to get them to go?”

Rafe shrugs, at a loss, pulling the collar of his shirt up to wipe the evidence off of his face.

You watch his friends get closer and your mind rushes through how you can possibly get them to leave him alone.

It’s ridiculous, but it may be the only thing that’ll work.

“Maybe…” You take a breath to gain a bit of courage. “Maybe we just do what we did at the party last night?”

Glossy blue eyes land on you. He thinks back to the way you held each other, the way he kissed your cheek.

“I don’t know,” you say, words rushed. “Maybe if they think you’re in the middle of a hook-up, they won’t interrupt? It’s stupid, but I don’t know what else we could do.”

The invitation ignites a fire in him. Suddenly, Rafe’s hand cradles your jaw and he pulls you in. You were expecting a hug or something tame. But he kisses you.

Everything that felt heavy in you lightens. His lips are even softer than you imagined. Your mouths melt together and it feels so natural that you almost forget this is all a tactic.

Everything in and around Rafe blurs when he kisses you. He doesn’t feel weak or fucked up or like a failure. He just feels you. Kissing him back. Tasting him like he’s tasting you.

You hear Rafe’s friends’ voices grow louder and you pull back, glaring at them.

“He’s busy!” you shout. Some of them laugh, others holler, but the guy at the front of the group throws his arms up and turns around.

“Say no more,” he slurs, laughing. “But hurry it up, will you?”

You watch them stumble back towards the house and you realize you can hear your heartbeat. You wish it was from the rush of getting away with a lie. But it’s not. It’s from the lie feeling this good.

“It worked,” you say. When you focus on Rafe again, his eyes are on your lips. Then, he quickly looks away, his hand lifting off of you.

The air between you is thick and awkward and you nervously clasp your hands together.

He looks out at the water again. So do you. You’re not touching anymore. And even though he’s right next to you, he suddenly feels miles away.

(part five)

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[adventuringblind]

I See Your Beauty

Charles Leclerc x Verstappen!reader

Genre: a little angst mixed with fluff and comfort

Summary: the youngest Verstappen is forced to do life without her vision. Thinking she might not be able fully experience her life due to the remarks of her father, she concedes that finding love is unlikely. Until she runs into Charles who helps her believe she doesn’t need her eyesight to be loved.

Warnings: Jos is his own warning now. Talks of disability and reader having an accident. Talks and depictions of verbal and physical abuse.

Request: nope this is self-indulgent. However, I am taking requests for Max, Charles, Lando, Oscar, and Daniel.

Notes: written in third person. Also, this fic deals with disabilities, particularly blindness. I myself am blind though I still have some vision left, which is mainly what I’m basing this off of. Please remember that blindness is a spectrum like many other disabilities. It is defined really by a loss of vision that can’t be corrected. I’m open to answering questions about it if y’all have any. My inbox and asks are always open :)

Masterlist

The youngest of the Verstappen’s very close with her brother, Max. The two are barely a year apart so it makes sense. Though they get in each others nerves often as well. Victoria doing her best as the oldest to settle arguments between the two.

Jos decided that two children in racing gives him better odd then just one. Electing to have both start karting at an early age.

They liked racing together. Getting used to being each others rocks when their father was harsher then necessary. It became routine for the two to defend each other.

Then everything changed.

The two were moving up through the ranks. Competing harder then ever to make your dad proud.

The accident wasn’t her fault. A consequence of her father from trying to build a faster car and not having test run it.

The engine exploded during the race. Every one of her senses ranged useless as she tried to react.

Ears ringing.

Smoke from the fire burning in her nose.

Blood from whatever hitting her knocking her teeth into her lip.

Heat nipping at her skin.

Lack of sight making her steering erratic.

Max had immediately rushed to aid his sister. Their father only staring in disappointment. He became resentful of his father that day.

The ambulance arrived and took you away. Max begged to go with but Jos ignored his request, telling him he needed help cleaning up his youngest daughter mess.

After hours the finally arrived back home. The other two Verstappen’s confused why the youngest was nowhere to be found. Max finally broke down in tears, much to his father dislike, and clutched Victoria for comfort. Telling her everything that had happened.

While three of them went to the hospital to find you, the fourth sat wallowing in disgrace at the display from his children today. He couldn’t admit he’d made a mistake. One that might have cost him a child.

Meanwhile the youngest was out of surgery. Continually crying for her family. The nurses had tried to reach her father who had given the medics his cell number, but they had yet to hear from him.

When her family arrived she tried her best to make out their faces. The sparks from the engine had been so bright that they burned her retinas. The combination of the fire doing permanent damage. The impact of the engine had knocked her helmet almost all the way off and she instinctively pushed it away to try and see again. The protection of the visor gone.

The three siblings cuddled together in her hospital bed. The youngest not fully comprehending why she couldn’t see. The lights were too bright. She was squinting to make out the small details.

Things didn’t improve after that. Jos became angry towards her. Constantly reminding the girl of what happened, what she did wrong, and how if she hadn’t messed up she might have been successful.

Regardless, she listened to him berate her at everyone of Max’s races. He stopped commenting about Max when she was within earshot. Mostly because she told him off every time he insulted her brother. Jos already deemed her the disappointment of the family, standing up for Max couldn’t possibly make things worse.

Max had also gotten more protective of his sister. Having been the one to pull her away from the wreckage and cleaning up the damage made him realize he didn’t want you to get hurt again.

He made it to every doctors appointment he could. He attended as much physical therapy as you would let him. He even put on a blind fold so he could understand a bit better. He helped her learn cane skills and how to guide you himself. All in an effort to help his sister feel less alone.

He was aware she still had some eyesight lift. Mostly cloudy and bright patches dotted her eyes making it difficult to make out where things are and any specific details. She liked seeing what she could of her siblings faces though.

Max determined he was going to bring you to every race with him. The Verstappen losing all ability to drive now making things harder for her and she didn’t want to stay with her father.

Victoria had a room for her in her house and let her stay when she needed. Max always made sure there was a room for her if she wanted to travel with him. She loved how willing her sibling were to help her out. However, it left her feeling useless and vulnerable at times.

Eventually, Max helped get her a job with Redbull as a strategist. She enjoyed playing with the different data. Listening became a more essential job then seeing.

Race days were spent in the garage unnoticed in the back. Hopefully out of view of the cameras and away from her father. They saw each other often, much to her dismay. He always had something to say to her when Max wasn’t around.

It was during her downtime that she met Charles.

~

Deciding her cane was unnecessary since she knew her way around the paddock and the ground is relatively flat, she went to hunt down her brother.

Neither party was paying attention leading to them running straight into each other. She could vaguely make out the Ferrari red race suit standing in front of her. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” Came the voice of Charles Leclerc. Though the two had never formally met, she had heard during interviews enough to know his voice.

“It’s alright, neither was I.” She smiled at the Monegasque. “Have you seen Max anywhere?”

He chuckles. “Unfortunately no. Are you his girlfriend?”

The question makes her laugh hysterically. “I’m his sister.” She can hear him sigh in relief at the clarification.

“That’s better at least because I wanted to say that you are very beautiful.” The playfulness in his voice doesn’t go unnoticed. Completely taking her off guard. Sure she’d gotten complements, but not often enough to make her used to them. The words of Jos not letting her believe them anyway. “Would it be alright if I give you my number?”

She lost all words in that moment. This had never happened before. “Sure-” she manages to stutter out before handing him her phone. The screen reading out things to her so she could get to her intended destination.

“I’ve never see a phone do that before.” Charles takes the phone from her and starts to put in his information.

She mentally face palms herself. Obviously he hasn’t realized she’s blind. “Actually I don’t have much of my eyesight.” She play with the bottom of her shirt. Her father having instilled in her that her blindness is something to be ashamed of.

“Wait- so you are blind? That is very interesting, I would like to know more if you’re okay with it.” The curiosity in his voice rising.

She wasn’t prepared for this. Nobody asks her questions about her condition. Even Christian doesn’t touch the subject and she never brings it up in conversation. “I guess, if your really interested.”

“Great, I’ll see you later tonight. Send me the address of where you’re staying.” His playful and flirty manner never faulted as he walked past her. Leaving the girl confused and blushing.

Little did she know that Charles had seen her around the paddock. Mostly hanging off of Max’s arm. He assumed she’d never notice him wave or try to get her attention. Turns out she couldn’t see him. He knows better then to assume. He blames it on the anxiety of being around her.

The youngest Verstappen finished up her duties as quick as possible. Catching a ride with her brother back to the hotel. He has learned to read her though and immediately noticed something was different. “What’s going on with you? You seem very smiley today.” He laughs.

“I can’t tell you because you’ll hate me.” She did her best not to appear nervous but was ultimately failing. Her hands fiddling in her lap.

“I could never hate you.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

She glances over at him. Eyes planted on the road. His calm demeanor putting her at ease. “Charles Leclerc asked me on a date tonight.”

Max begins laughing hysterically. His once smooth driving now a bit jerky from his sudden movements. “You thought I would hate you because of a date?”

She stutters a bit. “Well- aren’t you two rivals?” She manages. His laughing throwing her emotions all over the place.

“Sure, on the track. Off the track we are still friends and I trust him.” He explains. Relief floods through her body at his words. Her confidence in the situation going up a little.

She can feel the smug look on Max’s face. “Do you want help getting ready?”

~

The two siblings spent over an hour playing dress up. Max eventually having to video call Victoria and ask her opinion. The two trying to make their sister feel like she owns the world.

Dressing is less tricky then make-up. Sometimes she didn’t feel like it was worth the struggle and didn’t put it on. Some day she had to call Victoria to make sure everything looked right. If there was good lighting she was typically fine, but tonight was not one of those nights.

Growing up between two sisters, Max had learned a decent amount about make-up. He even enjoyed getting to do it on his sisters if they would let him. The almost squeal he let our when his sister asked for help was both hilarious and ridiculous. Immediately setting things up on the bathroom counter and going to work.

Max could tell his sister was anxious. Their father having scared away any of your potential boyfriends. Even going as far as to tell they that she is diseased. One of the worst things about having Jos around the garage, is that you’re left with him.

Though Max has stepped in many time and even lectured his father about his word choices, he never let up on any of the Verstappen children. All of them getting some aspect of their father’s insecurity thrown back at them like it’s their fault.

When he was done, Max tried to sooth your nerves. “Dad isn’t around. He’s in his own hotel room. Go have fun.”

And that’s exactly what she did.

The conversation between her and Charles flowed. He asked questions that weren’t invasive and was respectful if she didn’t want to answer. He made her laugh ridiculously hard.

So they kept doing it. She had to follow Redbull for work which made things easier in the two. Finding down time to meet up or celebrating together after races.

After the season was over, the two went on a holiday together.

Charles spent a good amount of time learning from her (and in turn Max) how to guide if the need ever arose.

Charles was so gentle with her. Always letting her know if there was something unexpected around. Telling her who was in the room.

If felt like a dream. One she never wanted to wake up from. Charles had assured her multiple times that she wasn’t dreaming and that their love is very real.

But alas, Jos likes to make things difficult.

~

A few races into the new season, Charles still had yet to formally meet Jos and the Verstappen siblings intended on keeping it that way. It wasn’t secret. Everyone in the paddock know the two were dating. Jos just hadn’t had the chance to talk to him yet.

She’d mentioned her childhood a few times but could never get out the full extent of what happened. Charles thankfully is patient with her and lets her take her time. He knows Jos’ reputation. Her childhood couldn’t have been the most amazing with him around.

This particular race, she was forced into close proximity with him. There had been a mistake during a pit stop for Max which made him lose some positions. Ending the race in fifth. To her it isn’t bad at all, but to the angry Dutchman unleashing his fury on everything, it most certainly is.

Sensing his rising anger, she had pulled her father into a more secluded area. Hoping that Max wouldn’t come back to the garage for awhile. At least not before she could talk some sense into their father.

She said nothing as strings of curse words left his lips. Only waiting for him to run out of breath.

“Did you see how he got lazy? He would’ve finished higher after the idiots didn’t do their jobs if he had put in more effort.”

“Max put in all his effort and you know it.” She scoffs. Arms folded over her chest. This is nothing new to her.

“Like you have any room to talk.” He snaps back. Her head now sagging, knowing his anger is now finding a new direction.

Charles, on the other hand, had been looking for her. It’s his first win of the season and she is nowhere to be found. Max ran up to him as the podium celebration ended. Patting him on the back for his well earned win.

“Have you seen your sister anywhere, mate?” He asked the Dutch.

Max ponders for a moment. “She might still be in the garage debriefing after what happened.” He replies. “I can walk you over if you want.”

The two drivers made their way to the Redbull garage to find most of those who would normally be inside, standing outside in a huddle. “What the hell is happening?” Max shouts over to Christian as the two approach him.

“I was just about to go find you.” Christian sighs in exasperation. “Can I call security on your father? He hasn’t stopped shouting since the race finished up.”

Charles and Max exchanged glances. The young woman’s absence now making more sense. “I’ll try and talk him down.” Stated Max before weaving his way through the sea of Redbull shirts. Charles following close behind.

Before the two could get further away, Christian yelled out to them. “Good luck, your sister has been trying!” The statement make the two move faster.

Charles could feel his emotions bubbling as the shouting got louder. As him and Max turn the corner, he immediately spots who he’d been looking for. Tears rolling down her cheeks as she felt around the floor looking for something.

Max steps in between her and the angry Dutch, shouting back and forth in their native tongue. Charles tries to spot what she’s feeling for. Scanning the ground until he spots her phone. The entire thing shattered. Small pieces of glass just barely reflecting the light. He’s down by her side in an instant.

“Love, it’s Charles, max is here also, I’m going to get you out of here okay?”

Her body turns towards Charles. It’s then he notices the specks of blood dotting her hands from feeling around the glass and a deep purple bruise forming on her forehead.

She’s struggling to breath now. Listening to the angry shouts. The pain in her head and the bright fluorescents not helping her see anything. She back in the crash.

Her father had spend from the end of the race until now laying into her. She had successfully defended Max and thought she was prepared to take the brunt of it. Until he snatch her phone and threw it at her. It hit her head so hard she was in the ground in seconds. Trying to feel her way around to where it might have gone so she could call Max.

The words were so familiar to her. The ones she heard in her nightmares when she was once again surrounded by smoke and bright lights stealing away her vision.

“I don’t want to crash again Charles. It’s to hot. It hurts too much. I can’t see anything.” She tried to search for him but ended up with more glass in her palm. The tears only thickening.

“Stay put, okay? I’m going to help Max and then I’ll be right back.” He didn’t want to leave her on the floor. She looked like a child, and so did Max in this moment. The two getting their fathers wrath with no end in sight.

Charles sprints back to Christian, yelling at him to call security, then sprints back to Max.

“Mr. Verstappen I think you are out of line here.” Says the monegasque. Signaling Max to stay with you. He didn’t move at first but it was obvious he was getting nowhere, so he obliged. Kneeling down to help his sister calm her breathing.

Jos scoffs at Charles. “You have no right to get in between me and my children.” Anger pooling from his features.

“I mean no disrespect sir, but you’re being an asshole.”

“And is she-“ he jabs his finger at the girl on the floor, “-not disgusting.” Charles almost hits him but refrains from doing so knowing security will be arriving soon.

“On the contrary, I think she is an angel.”

“She’s diseased. She hasn’t even tried to fix her mistakes. Look at her! She just wants attention for what she did to herself!”

Now Charles doesn’t hesitate to punch him. His fist colliding with Jos’ jaw, sending him stumbling into the wall.

Max took his attention off his sister, who was leaning against him, and placed it on Charles. Shock clearly evident of his features.

Jos attempted to confront Charles again, but security finally showed up and escorted Jos out of the paddock.

Charles exhales, glad the confrontation is over. “That’s not how I imagined meeting your father for the first time.” Charles chuckles nervously.

Is doesn’t take much longer until Charles has his love safely wrapped in his arms. Whisking her away to his hotel room. Max had stayed ti make sure everything got cleaned up at the paddock. Kelly arriving shortly with Penelope in tow, ready to comfort Max.

She cried when they were finally safe inside. Pouring out to Charles about the accident and what it had caused in her life. He listened intently, doing his best to soothe the girl. Her panic still clearly evident.

Soon enough she’d calmed. Her head laying in Charles lap while he threaded his fingers through her hair.

“It don’t care what anyone else says. I see your beauty and it is not defined by what you can’t see.”

[stormikitty]

DP/DC

Danny had found out a while back that the principal, staff members, and some students at Casper High had known for years that something was going on and that Danny and Jazz didn't have a safe homelife, but did absolutely nothing. The only person who tried to do anything was Mr. Lancer, but his attempts did nothing because he was ignored by the people he reached out to for help many times. Danny's death could have been prevented if people actually did something about what they noticed.

Danny listens to true crime podcasts a lot. Some stories are burned into his brain. That's usually the stories about abused and neglected children who could have been saved. Stories where many people knew something was going on and did nothing about it, and a child died because of that. Those ones always hit a little close to home for Danny even if the specific details are different. Sometimes, true crime podcasts about these situations make Danny cry himself to sleep, wondering when the world will learn from past mistakes and stop letting this happen.

Danny's new adoptive family finds this out when someone turns off All Dogs Go To Heaven when it gets to the credits and Danny goes on a rant about Judith Barsi for no less than an hour. At the end of his rant, he mentions that the world still hasn't learned and quietly asks, "When will it stop? When will people learn from the past and stop letting children suffer and die?"

He is tearing up. The rest of the batfam don't know what to do. They aren't sure how to respond. They didn't think turning off a movie during the credits would trigger a reaction like this. He's more emotional about this whole thing than anyone else would be about the death of a child actor they never even knew.

Later that week while visiting the manor, Jazz explains that the reason that affects Danny the way it does is because of trauma relating to his own death and how easily it could have been prevented if someone had done something.

[mochiimac]

About Love 1

My head gets messy when I try to hide

The things I love about you in mind

Pairing: Hybrid!BTS x Fem!Reader

Summary: Becoming a best selling thriller author? Part of the plan. Living in the city and isolating yourself from everyone? Part of the plan. Inheriting your late uncles home in the woods, his sassy assistant and fortune after he died mysteriously? Not part of the plan. Oh, and he failed to mention the 7 'surprises' he left you as well.  And come to think of it... was his death an accident? Or is your imagination going wild again?

Genre: Hybrid!AU

Warnings (if bolded then this chapter contains these elements) : Fluff, Hurt, Comfort, Angst, Death, Abuse, Smut, Suggestive Themes, Violence, Dom/Sub, Non-Con Elements, Slow Burn, Trauma

Rating: M 18+

WC: ~7k

Tag List: OPEN- DM ONLY <3

Notes: Here is chapter 1! I’m so excited that people enjoyed the prologue, makes my heart happy(: I wonder who’s waiting for you in the house... Hmmm...

Prologue | Next>>

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“It’s so early... not even the sun is awake... why do I hate myself...” A sob threatened to spill past your lips as you numbly walked outside. The cold air was bullying you into tears as it stung your face and hands. 

6 am. 6 am. Who was even up this early, especially on a cold day like this-

Oh yes. That would be you.

The city streets were painted in gold from the streetlights and the remaining leaves that were still clinging on for dear life, ignoring the snow that sprinkled the ground with all their might. It was as though the city had been tucked under a large white blanket overnight, a blanket made of glistening diamonds that reflected the warm lights from all around. Truth be told it was beautiful to look at… just not when you have to be awake and freezing. While some would find this scene breathtakingly beautiful you, on the other hand, craved a flamethrower to tear it all down and seek vengeance for your poor skin.

Just goes to show how important proper sleep and caffeine are to begin the day. It could make the difference between waking up with a smile or beginning your villain arc. 

Your whole apartment was packed and loaded into the new large SUV, a surprise that came last week with Jackson. You knew you had obtained Takoda’s vehicle but it was surprising that it was brand new and could hold up to 8 individuals. Takoda lived alone with no marriages nor children… So why the large vehicle? Why purchase this large car along with the house? You didn’t miss the confusion on Jackson’s face when he handed you the keys, a hushed comment of ‘When did he even buy this?’ didn’t go past you. It only added to the suspicion of your uncle’s death. 

What was Takoda planning? 

Unfortunately the city left you with dead ends: the Spades family was a family full of successful lawyers, all ranging from medical to even real estate. They were the Eevees of lawyers, your family: one Spades for every type. The family slogan? ‘ Always have an ace of Spades up your sleeve!’ Every time you heard it your teeth would grind together, because for them it wasn’t about the person they were representing. No, never about their clients. It was about the money. And so trying to worm your way around and see what truly happened and what the other morticians wrote was impossible. Their loyalty (and mainly wallets) would be with your father. Rowan Spades. You were going to keep pushing however a small and short voicemail had you stopping dead in your tracks.

“Hi sweetie! Just checking in, Officer Lee mentioned you’ve been asking about your uncle’s case, and… oh hon, I know this mourning process is hard. Reach out if you need to talk! Be careful out there… snow and all!”

Lei Spades, the one person who, despite being shunned, still tried to help you. Perhaps it was because she was your mother. Or maybe she simply didn’t want Rowan to get upset.  She had met Rowan when she was young and naive, hell, she was still naive at times. At least you hoped she was. It would be worse for her to know how corrupt your father was and simply turn a blind eye because the money was just too good. But she had saved you a few times in the past from your fathers wrath. This being one of them. She would never call unless she had to. And the number was unknown, not her personal phone. A quick warning for her daughter to back away. And if Lei was the one giving the warning then you knew it was best to keep low… for now. But you did have one more place to look into…

The large home that you had yet to step into. The mysterious building that your new ‘assistant’ was hushed about. Any questions asked were either ignored or cut off with him changing the subject. The one that Jackson was supposed to drive you to later that day. You didn’t miss the urgency in his voice the previous week, the way his eyes were looking deep into your own. The moment was implanted in your mind, the goosebumps could still be felt...

“We will leave Friday at noon. Agreed?” He stood at your door, hands in his pocket as his eyes bore into you. The deep brown that was usually cool seemed to be ignited with a fire of sorts at the topic of the house. You noticed this each time you tried to ask questions or pry; the man was a vault and seemed uneasy. 

Unfortunately that only ignited your own flame.  

You managed to laugh a little, eyebrow raised. A small test to see how he would react... “Uh, sure? I mean if I’m already up I can always head on out early and meet you-” Your words were cut off as you jumped back when Jackson stepped closer. He crowded your space, face inches from your own as his hand grasped your shoulders. You tried to step back but your heel collided with a wall. His fingers gripped your shirt, however it wasn’t painful. The fire that was in his eyes had increased tenfold and you actually felt a small shiver of fear slide down your spine.

“Together. At. Noon.” His words were cool and flat, but you could hear the underlying tone. He was stressed about something. And while every alarm was going off in your head you managed to school your face, putting on a mask of frozen shock instead. 

“N-noon… o-okay.” You managed to sound meek, the act working as Jackson gave you a small smile, hands squeezing your shoulders as he stepped back. 

“Not a minute early nor late.” His eyes seemed to have cooled down at your words. His flickered up and down your body, something you noticed he did before leaving each visit. “Stay safe, Heiress.”

As soon as the door closed you leaned against the wall, sliding down while taking deep breaths. He failed the test, he was hiding something and you were going to figure it out. If he can keep secrets then so could you. 

After that little show you had whipped out your phone and were quick to contact the Sanity Squad, the video call was between you and your three best friends. And they were in agreement: Jackson was hiding something and whatever it was, it was in the house. Of course the first topic was if you should all go together since the whole situation was bizarre.

 Theories of him killing you were out the window seeing that he had nothing to gain and too many opportunities to do so. Oh, and Jessi proclaimed he was ‘too hot’ to be a serial killer. The next theory seemed more plausible: he knew some information on Takoda’s death and wanted to make sure you didn’t find any clues. But Jackson had a key to the house so again, that was a dead end. He could easily hide the evidence or destroy it. 

Hours later, and a warning from your phone that the battery was going to die, you announced you would simply beat him there and see for yourself. It was your stance and no one could change your mind.

So here you are on this fine Friday morning, beating the sassy assistant by several hours, and hopping into a brand new vehicle. It was sleek and black, the interior dark with faux leather seats. A large touchpad illuminated the space and you were thankful it was able to self-drive. Although these types of cars are common many prefer the old fashioned way of driving and just doing it themselves. But with this tank? You preferred to let it do the work while you kicked back and watched.

You keyed in your first stop in the car’s GPS, feeling it slowly ease away from the building you had lived in for years. It was odd, knowing that you would never be back but at the same time it was a relief to be going to a place that had room to breathe. And no noisy neighbors to keep you up till the wee hours of the morning. Now that you would not miss, not one bit. But you would miss the cozy feel of the small space. It was bittersweet to see it fade behind you. 

Ten minutes later and you were parked outside the small coffee shop, I Need Brew, a place you would frequent with your friends. It was hybrid friendly and a great place for many hybrids to begin working, gaining skills for later careers. Or some chose to stay and continue working for the beloved company. It was run by Bang Chan with his fox hybrid Felix being a manager; you knew the two well after frequenting the quaint shop. The fox adored your visits and would often slip you free goodies when Chan wasn’t looking. 

Slipping inside you were greeted with warmth and the smell of fresh coffee and baked goods. The interior was designed to make everyone feel at ease and cozy, soft music playing in the background to help the customers gradually wake up without giving them a headache.

“Y/n? At this hour?” 

You looked around, knowing the voice but not knowing where it came from, but then Felix peaked his head around the corner from the back. bright orange hair held specks of flour with his orange ears shooting up. His voice was light and somewhat shocked, but still held the adoration he had for you. In return you smiled and stepped further inside. 

“I knew I smelt something sweet walking in,” His face broke into a wide smile. 

You smiled back, walking towards the counter. “Yeah it’s a bit early for me… I’ve actually come to meet up with the group.”

“Again, at this hour? Do you know what time it is-?” A buzzing noise had the fox looking over his shoulder. “Go sit, I’ll grab you your favorites and be out in a minute.” He disappeared around back as you moved further into the shop, eyes already set on your usual table.

The past few years your group and yourself had always sat at the table located on the furthest wall, right by the counter and where the employees would mingle when waiting for customers. It was how you befriended so many of the employees, all of whom knew your favorite beverages and treats by heart. As you sat you heard the front door’s bell jingle as a blonde walked in, heading straight for your table. 

“I’m surprised you actually woke up,” You grinned as Jessi sat in the chair across from you, snow flurries clinging to her winter coat. “You usually sleep through all your alarms.”

“And miss my best friend leaving to head to the woods alone? Not a chance,” Jessi gave you a grin but you could see the worry in it, leaning closer she asked, “Are you sure we can’t come along? What if something bad happens-?”

“Nothing bad is going to happen.” You waved her off, actually believing yourself. Despite the odd circumstances your instincts were letting you know that this wasn’t dangerous at all. It was more… interesting. “Besides we have that locator app, right? One click and you all know something is wrong and the police will be rushing to save me.” You could still see the doubt in her eyes as she listened.

“I think it’d be best to take one of us with you today… just for safety reasons.” Her arms crossed over her chest, leaning back and watching you. “Especially with all that is going on.”

You opened your mouth to protest once more however the familiar jingle of the bell alerted everyone of more customers. You could hear them before you could see them; quick footsteps headed towards you before arms encased your shoulders, a face buried in your neck as a soft vibration pressed against your back. Something soft and warm wrapped around your waist, tightening a fraction as a giggle reached your ears. 

��Wooyoung, how do you have so much energy this morning?” 

You glanced up to see Hongjoong taking a seat next to Jessi, the man looking exhausted with his iconic split black and white hair disheveled in a disastrous way.  His eyes were dead set on his hybrid Wooyoung who had wrapped himself around you, acting more snake than black panther. You could feel the cat’s purring increase, knowing those vibrant green eyes were focused on Hongjoong.

“Simple,” He nuzzled closer to you, feeling a grin on his face. “I have my Y/n here.” 

You remember when Hongjoong first adopted Wooyoung, how the black panther quite literally tackled you and complimented on how nice you smelt and was overjoyed to know that you were best friends with his owner. In his eyes that meant you were part of the ‘extended pack’, along with Jessi, and got to be scented just as much as Hongjoong was. Which he ensured you both were drenched in his scent, looking quite proud of himself each time. 

Reaching up you gently rubbed his head, scratching behind his ear just as he liked. You could feel how anxious he was, knowing you would be leaving, heading further away. It was an hour drive to get to the new home and his instincts weren’t liking having part of his pack be so far away. 

“You can still sell it and live with us,” Wooyoung mumbled into your neck, his breath tickling a bit. “Hyung wouldn’t mind.” 

“Aw, Woo, I won’t be so far away. Plus you can call whenever you want.” You received a pitiful whine from the male as he slowly let go of you, heading over to Jessi to scent her. It was hard to miss the droop of his ears, his last attempt at keeping you in the city gone. Although it tugged your heartstrings and almost made you want to change your mind, one look at Hongjoong and you knew he would be okay; the other male was smiling and shaking his head at the cat. 

“I know I said a minute but everyone else showed up. And these just came out fresh from the oven!” Felix was quick to hand out four mugs and a plate of mini muffins with different flavors. Stepping back his eyes landed on you with a raised eyebrow. “So, you’re going to your new home alone in the woods? I’m sure Chan can go with you if you need someone…” His voice trailed off, his tail flicking along with Wooyoung’s. Seemed like he didn’t like the idea either, his animal instincts wary of your decisions. You were thankful you weren’t part of their intimate packs- you wouldn’t even get your foot out the door. Let alone be able to grab the doorknob.

“It’s quite alright, it’s a new home I inherited.” You once again waved off the help. “Nothing wrong with it.” The fox nodded at your words, tail flicking once again to show his displeasure.

“But if anything happens you have people here, okay? Don’t be afraid to ask us for help.” With a boop to your nose he went back to baking while the four of you settled with small talk for a brief moment. Ignoring the world outside while you had the time and just living in the moment.

 Truth be told you had no idea how long it would before you got to see them once more. Pushing those thoughts aside you sipped your cup, smiling as Wooyoung took a seat next to you while Hongjoong and Jessi argued over a movie that just came out. As they argued Wooyoung shoved a gift bag in your lap, grinning over at you. 

“Woo got you a gift, well, he helped make it.” Hongjoong dropped the argument quickly when he heard the the bag being opened. You opened the gift and pulled out a beautiful red scarf. “The python hybrid next door, San? He taught Wooyoung how to knit.” Hongjoong beamed at Wooyoung with pride while the panther watched you, waiting to see your reaction.

There was a tremble in your lips as you pulled the incredibly soft scarf out. “Woo…” Tears threatened to fall as you turned to the panther. you felt his tail wrap back around you, pulling you into his chest as his purrs started once again.

“It’s made with love from us!” He smiled. “That way we’re never too far away… don’t cry, Y/n!” 

It was too late as a few tears fell, feeling Wooyoung pull you back into a hug that soon the others joined in with. “I have the best friends in the whole world.”

“Damn straight you do.” Jessi reached over, grabbing your hand with a grin.

“We love you too, Y/n.” Hongjoong placed his hand on top of Jessi’s, a soft smile on his face.

“You can still live with us- ” Wooyoung’s quick words were cut off with a whine when Hongjoong lightly wacked his arm. Pulling you closer to him, the panther let out the weakest growl you had ever heard. “In case she forgot, hyung not the ears!” You laughed as the growls turned into whines. 

Little moments like this made it even harder to say goodbye.

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It felt as though you were now living in a snow globe. Tall pines loomed all around, the roads were covered with inches of snow, all while snow flurries floated all around. The sun may have been hidden behind the clouds but the snow offered enough light to make up for it: everywhere you looked you had to squint from the jarring white canvas. You could feel the SUV cruise cautiously through the piles of snow and up the hills that were hidden from your eyes. 

“GPS you better be taking me to the right place…” You mumbled, eyes straying warily to the trees that surrounded you. It felt as though you were encased in a sea of deep green and white; it never seemed to end no matter how far ahead you tried to look.

The estimated time of arrival said five minutes but you wanted to call bullshit on that. The tree’s were so dense, so dark, surely a home couldn’t be located here? Who even built this place? Crossing your arms you watched as the car slowly cruised forward, itching to get out and investigate the home in person. As well as text Jackson that you had left about seven that morning… though you were more happy to wait to send that message. More alone time for you to sneak around the place and it kept Jackson from scolding you a little longer.

“You have arrived!” 

Your mouth opened, ready to yell ‘Liar!’ but it quickly closed when the car slowly took a turn and hidden was a house. Truth be told anyone could drive right by and miss it, the driveway being extremely narrow.

The home was snuggled amongst the tall pines, large and yet seemed to almost blend in with it’s surroundings and standout all at the same time. The house held a warmth and coziness to it and reminded you of the feeling of going back home after spending a long time away. It sat in a large clearing of the trees, and in the distance you could make out mountains that peaked to the sky. The early morning rays were just coming up, casting an ethereal glow all around. It was beautiful and you were frozen in your seat, watching the sun’s rays gently light up the clearing. A calling urged you to go inside, your heart was fluttering at the sight of it-

“You have arrived!” 

The moment was ruined with the car clearly wanting you to get out now. Grumbling, you stepped out of the vehicle and snuggled further into the scarf Wooyoung gifted you. It was much colder out in the wilderness than in the city, the wind whipping around and nipping at your cheeks in a cruel way. Colder and quieter. You could hear your own deep breaths across the baron land of snow. You knew there was a peace to the quiet however being alone in a foreign place it was hard to find it anything short of eerie. The hairs on your arms were rising as you took a deep breath, quietly closing the car door to not disrupt the stillness around you. 

The house lured you in with every step, your heartbeat quickening as the key was gripped between your fingers. Any normal person would be afraid, hell even terrified, if they were in your shoes. A family member was found dead with zero investigation done, trying to gain some answers only had your mother warning you to back off, and lastly a house no one knew of was left to you. An hour away from the city your family basically owned. 

However you felt anything but fear. There was curiosity for sure and a yearning for discovering what could be hidden within the walls of this building. What could have Takoda been up to with purchasing this place? It looked new too, no physical wear and tear on the outside from the weather. You wondered what he was hiding… And there was something else too, something deep in you that wanted to run in the building. A call from somewhere inside that had anticipation swimming in your veins. 

The key slid in with a soft click! The door slowly opening while your eyes were wide and surveying your new home. You were awaiting darkness to greet you; a home that has been sat for too long and was full of cobwebs and dust from the lack of visitors. A cold and dark home was what you were mentally prepared for especially since Jackson was only dropping your boxes off and then quickly returning to his job. However you were shocked at what awaited you.

The foyer was large and spacious, the walls were painted a neutral color and the floors were solid wood. To your left and right were spacious rooms that were rather empty, save for a large sectional couch in one of them with an insanely large flat screen mounted to the wall. There were tall and large windows throughout, letting in the natural sunlight and giving an airy and soft feel to the overall place. Not far from the door was a large staircase with quite a few steps, and you spotted some of your boxes placed randomly along each step.

Your eyebrows knit together as you stepped closer, noticing the boxes were opened. Some even appeared to be missing items, spotting a box that was full of blankets now only containing a single blanket. A frown tugged on your lips, wondering what Jackson had been up to… he wasn’t stealing from you… was he?

You crept up the stairs, spotting more and more of your boxes placed randomly along the steps. Books had been looked through, some missing; blankets were taken out of the box, one box even being completely empty. Finally making it to the top you felt your stomach knot as you found some of your clothes scattered around the large landing. Thankfully it was just shirts and hoodies, nothing too personal, but it still made your blood freeze.  

Jackson was the only one who had the other key… right? No one else should have been there… What if your father found out and sent someone to spy? No, no professional would make it look this terrible. What if this was a warning for you? To leave? Fear shot down your spine as you followed the scattered clothes towards a pair of French doors at the very end of the landing. 

Almost like a trail. 

Your legs felt like lead as you moved closer, steps silent as you crept along, throat dry as a million thoughts and scenarios ran through your mind. What if someone broke in and was needing a place to stay? What if they were dangerous, a criminal on the run? Or a dangerous hybrid? If the intruder were human you stood a small chance. But if they were a hybrid, a being designed to outperform humans in many ways... and if they were a predator... the very thought had your limbs locking up.

Despite the fear that shook you to your core, there was the feeling again: you needed to be there. Something important was waiting for you in that house. An instinct that pushed you to keep moving, a need that fought against the fear that dwelled in you. As if you found this certain thing, you’d be safe. You’d be fine. 

Perhaps you have lost your mind.

Standing before the doors you took a moment to gather yourself, gain some courage, and then you had the doors flying open. Body tense as your eyes scanned the entire area, prepared to face the intruder head on-

No one was inside. But what you saw had you shaking.

Your lips turned downwards at the sight before you, hand gripping the door to try to keep grounded. The room was large, a master bedroom that was fit for a family really. Like the rest of the home it was rather empty with the exception of the large bed, an Alaskan king, and your brain was fried trying to process why a bed that large was there and why all your belongings were all over the bed. You felt a chill roll down your spine as you stepped into the room carefully, mentally waiting for someone to jump out and attack you. 

But again that other feeling, the part of you that you called insane, felt secure as well. Something about being in that room had you feeling at ease as well as afraid all at the same time. You felt nauseated with the mixed feelings swirling in your head. 

All the blankets, clothes, and books that went missing were right there. A part of you wanted to grab your things and go through it all and see what was done to each item. But a larger part of you wanted to curl up in the warm blankets and hide away, ignore all the craziness that you were facing, and seize to exist. If only... 

‘Come on, Y/n. Put on a brave face.’  You mentally scolded yourself for being weak; this was your home after all. Taking a deep breath you strolled into the bedroom with more confidence and was going to begin your investigation when the sound of a door closing echoed across the empty house. 

 ‘Fuck the brave face.’ Your blood turned to ice, instincts taking over you flung yourself under the bed. You pressed your hand against your mouth, trying to calm your breathing as you waited and listened as well as you could. You closed your eyes, willing your ears to straining and hear anything. The silence was torture, not even footsteps could be heard. You wished you could at least hear where they were-

A low growl echoed against the walls of the staircase. An actual growl... an animal? You don’t recall leaving the door open, but perhaps you did when you noticed your belongings scattered about... 

Did you accidentally let in a wild animal? 

As you tried to decipher how the creature got in you heard heavy paws hitting the stairs, the growl low as it came closer and closer. Every step had your heart pounding in your chest and for a moment you wondered if you would die from a heart attack before being mauled by a beast. The thought died as soon as you realized that the paws had stopped somewhere near the landing. 

Then, ever so slowly, you heard the paws approach the bedroom. The growl was coming closer and closer, your body nearly shaking as you squeezed your eyes shut tighter. The paws stopped at the bedroom entrance, the growl lower, more of a rumble now as it continued forward. It got closer and closer, the air feeling heavier with each passing second. The rumbling was now right in front of you.

 Swallowing the lump in your throat you slowly opened your eyes.

A cloud of browns, blacks, blondes, and silvers invaded your vision at first. Fur that was so thick and long you felt an urge to reach out touch it, knowing it must have been so warm and soft. But you remained frozen as a pair of eyes, lilac- no... gold? You could have sworn they were lilac for a moment but now they were a brilliant gold, stared you down. Eternity could have passed and you wouldn’t have known, not while the canine was intensely watching your every breath. A moment of silence, a moment of stillness-

It lunged and you screamed, your throat immediately burning from the raw strength behind it. Faster than you thought possible you managed to leave your hiding spot just as the large beast arrived. Your feet were moving too fast for you to keep up, heart leaping up your throat as grunts and whines followed you. When you heard those heavy paws hitting the floor you cried out again, the staircase right there. 

You believed you could easily dash down the stairs and into the car. You’d be safe there and maybe you could easily call for help. For a brief moment you wished you had waited for Jackson. At least you could trip the man and give yourself some extra time to escape... unless he did it first, which you knew he would.

However fate was a cruel mistress to you today; wet shoes slid against the wooden floor, propelling you face first down the steps. Your voice was stuck in your throat as you sharply inhaled and braced yourself for impact. You felt something solid, but it wasn’t wood. It was... warm and inviting... 

Two arms snaked around you, pulling you closer and easily catching you from the fall. Your feet were dangling off the floor with your cheek pressed against something solid that held a low vibration. Whoever this was was strong enough to hold you carefully around the waist with ease and you stiffened as your realized you weren’t alone with just that canine anymore.

“Relax Beautiful,” The voice was right in your ear, a murmur to help ease you. The voice was soothing to hear and you obeyed immediately as if it were natural to trust a stranger like this. The logical part of your brain was screaming at you to break free and run. But there was another part of your brain, something instinctual, that wanted nothing more than to obey. That there was safety and comfort within these arms that would shield you from the whole world...

The voice let out a soft hum, pleased as you listened without a fuss. The arms were still tight as something soft traced your neck, the vibrations increasing before stopping all at once. “My, my, Beautiful. it’s no wonder he was upset, smelling the way you do.” Their tone became deeper, displeasure stirring just underneath the words. Something in you nearly whined- as if you couldn’t stand the thought of displeasing the stranger. Thankfully the logical side of your brain kicked into action.

You snapped out of the trance you were in and physically flailed yourself away. You could tell the stranger was surprised by your sudden outburst and used it to stumble back, feeling your heel collide with a step, causing you to fall and land on it with your butt. Your nearly fall had thrusted you forward, passing the first flight of stairs and nearly onto the midlevel landing. Which was where a new figure was now peering down at you.

A handsome man with beautiful features stood before you, bright blue eyes watching your every move with plump lips forming a soft smile. His hair was jet black and on top was a set of fuzzy black ears. Something swayed out of the corner of your eye and you saw a fluffy tail that had black fur with white underneath, the tip of the tail was also white. He wore dark denim jeans and a white tee, the letter’s DRF embroidered on the top left corner in crimson. A hybrid was in your new home-

A low growl was behind you and for a brief moment thought it was surely going to attack you now. But you were shocked to feel something cool against your head as another high pitch whine was right by your ear. It’s muzzle was nudging you, whining, trying to get you to move but you were too shocked to move a single muscle.

“Wh-who are you?” You wanted to sound demanding. You wanted to sound strong. But your voice cracked and hands slightly shook as your eyes remained focused on the hybrid in front of you. 

He gave you another soft smile, lowering himself on the landing to meet your gaze properly. “My name is Seokjin, but please call me Jin. The wolfdog behind you is Jungkook. You, Beautiful, must be Y/n Spades.” His smile widened as you slowly nodded your head, your own eyes staring at him with mixed emotions. “Your uncle, Takoda Spades, left us a letter detailing that you were to inherit us if anything were to happen... this is correct, yes?” 

“I... the will never mentioned hybrids...” 

“For all of our protection, yes.” 

A new voice. This one deeper than the last, all eyes snapping to the foot of the stairs. He was taller than Jin and seemed to hold more muscle as his white shirt (the same exact one Jin was wearing) had a tighter fit, muscles threatening to breakthrough. His hair was a light ash blonde, smoky and seeming more white/gray, with fluffy dark gray ears on top, pointed and standing alert. Your eyes met his and for a fraction of a second you could have sworn they were glowing lilac but it must have been the lighting, instead they were a warm amber that held a fire inside. A fire that invited you to get closer, to feel his warmth and embrace him. You were lost in that warmth, body leaning slightly forward without your knowledge. 

Jin’s tail softly wagged at the sight of the male, bright eyes looking between the two of you. Your actions didn’t go unnoticed by anyone. “Y/n, this is Namjoon, our pack alpha-”

Swoosh!

A blur of movement ran passed the three of you in the matter of a second. The air hit your bare neck, your eyes wide as you realized the wolfdog, Jungkook, swiped your scarf and took off down the steps. There was shock for a brief moment before panic ensued- what if it was destroyed? The worry you emitted had Jin whining, stepping to you while Namjoon growled after the shifted hyrbid.

“Hey-!”

“Jungkook!”

You jumped up and ran past the two, much to their surprise, and ran down the stairs. You were ready to hunt the wolfdog down, get the scarf back and maybe even exile him to the woods for the night. He could freeze out there for the night, and then maybe he would appreciate the scarf a bit more-

“Oof-!”

You felt something solid and warm once again, this time face first. A hand locked on the back of your head, firmly and carefully, while another wrapped around your waist. Warm breath hit the top of your head, blowing a few strands gently, while you felt pressure rubbing your head.

“Please don’t be mad.” The voice was new one and you could hear the pout in it as well as the worry. It was heartbreakingly sad, could even make the world’s smallest violin sound mediocre in comparison. “It’s safe, it’s just in the wash. I couldn’t take it. Just his scent all over you and clinging to you like that-”

“Jungkook.”

Namjoon was right behind you, voice low with a displeased growl. In response Jungkook whined and clung to you, body locking to yours. His tone reminded you of a kid who got caught doing something bad. “Hyung, his scent is all over her! The scarf in the sink, I’ll wash it and have it dried by tomorrow!” 

Scent? Wooyoung. It took a second but you realized he was on edge about Wooyoung’s scent, on your and the scarf. It was what Jin was talking about earlier, you smelling with another hybrids scent was making them uncomfortable. You tried to step back but Jungkook refused the space. Instead he held tighter, face buried in your hair, cheek rubbing against you in a rushed manner.

“Jungkook, I’m not mad.”  Those magic words had the hybrid loosening his grip on you. It gave you an escape, putting some distance though his arm was still wrapped around your waist with his hand still in on the back of your head. Finger were softly twirling the strands. 

He was just as handsome as Jin and Namjoon; hair was a chocoate brown that was kept longer than the others, his ears were triangular like the others and matched the beautiful shades of his fur when he was shifted, as well as his long and fluffy tail. His eyes were doe-like and gold, trained on you with emotions you didn’t understand. A smile broke out on his face, his teeth looking more bunny-like than wolf. The smile and eyes settled your earlier thoughts and put out the angry fire that he had stirred. The idea of putting him outside nearly made your heartbreak.

“You’re not mad? You don’t want me to leave?” 

At his question your lips curved up slightly. “I’m not putting you in the doghouse Jungkook. I kind of understand why you did what you did.” His tail wagged, eyes brightening, and toned and bare chest rumbling-

Your cheeks turned red as you realized that Jungkook was lacking clothes. You were still being held close, so close you could feel the toned muscles flush against you, as well as something hard pressed right against your stomach-

“Jungkook. Clothes. Now.”

Namjoon was your saving grace, face so red you didn’t want to face them. But they didn’t need to see you to know how you were feeling. To put it lightly, Jungkook was more than pleased to be the one to have your scent become mouther watering and nearly impossible to ignore. You kept your gaze on his collar, refusing to look elsewhere. 

“Yes sir,” You could hear his amusement as his warmth almost disappeared. Almost. “Wait for me in the living room, Honey.” His voice was right in your ear and something sharp nipped at your earlobe. You jumped and squeaked as you hybrid walked out of your view, chuckling at you. 

You could feel the burn in your face, still refusing to move incase you got a whole view of the male. Not that a large part of you didn’t want to look, but damnit you were going to at least have some of your dignity. 

“He’s gone now, Beautiful. You can turn around.” The tease in Jin’s voice brought a pout to your face as you looked at the other two hybrids. Seeing your flushed cheeks and lips stuttering out had them almost cooing. Jin smiled softly at you. “Jungkook’s very playful, though he doesn’t mean harm.” You wanted to snort because the man was obviously trying to give you a heart attack. 

Namjoon stepped forward, a smile trying to form though he held it back. Trying to save you some face at least. In his hands were a few files with DRF stamped in large letters across each one and one envelope with Namjoon written across it. “Mr. Spades left a letter for us and lightly explained a few things.” 

Your heart picked up as you wondered what was written to them. Perhaps there was something hidden inside that letter that you needed. What if they knew what happened to him? What if everything written inside the envelope and solved what happened to your late uncle? 

“Let’s head to the living room, we’ll wait for Jungkook and then talk.” Jin offered, already taking your hand and leading you towards one of the large room. His thumb rubbed soft circles on the back of your hand as those bright blue eyes seemed worried. You could almost feel Namjoon’s own worry radiate from behind the two of you, and you couldn’t help but wonder...

What was in that letter?

While you were pondering what could have been written you failed to realize you had left your device in the car. The screen lit up once more, 7 missed calls from Sassy ASSistant and followed by one text:

Sassy ASSistant: Y/n Spades you are in serious trouble when I get there.

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[starfirewildheart]

Chapter 9

Summary:

Mentions of past abuse of Geralt, punishment spankings, Vesemir is tired of grown witchers acting like children, odd behavior from Eskel and Ciri but it will be explained later, smooches between Geralt and Naurel hopefully leading to more in the next chapter !

Vesemir listened to Geralt as he told the story of what they had learned at the temple. “Barmin spoke of those times but I never dared to hope it would be true again,” he said in awe. “Does that mean that there will be one for all of the witchers again?”

Geralt shrugged, “We don’t know. There is still so much to learn about all of it. All Nenennke could say is that we were meant to be together and that we should spend the winter here before we set out to research so we don’t draw attention to ourselves.”

Geralt watched Ciri practicing defensive skills with Coen in the dining hall. “I’m glad to see she is adjusting well,” Geralt motioned his head toward Ciri. “She seems to want to listen to them more than she does me.” Since they’d gotten back a week ago Ciri had been a bit distant with Geralt, almost dismissive. He knew she would come to him when she was ready to talk about it and until then he would just keep trying to be there for her. Ciri wasn’t the only one acting differently toward Geralt since their return. Eskel was acting differently as well, snapping at Geralt and talking down to him and he had no idea why. Eskel was his closest brother growing up in the wolf school together. They heard a dish clatter to the ground and looked over near the fire.

“Let me,” Naurel said, reaching out to help Eskel clean up the spilled bread.

Eskel jerked the dish out of her hand. “I don’t need your fucking help, you’ve done enough here!”

Geralt was next to her in an instant putting himself between her and his brother while the room grew eerily quiet and everyone stared. “Is there a problem?” he asked Eskel.

“A lot of them brother.” he sneered.

“Eskel,” Vesemir warned but he was ignored.

“No, we all want to know what the fuck makes you so special Geralt? We all come back, beat to shit, bandaged and injured but you, not a scratch. Not to mention you have this little family now like your brothers don’t matter anymore,” he scoffed. “Special Geralt, the most powerful witcher,” he mocked as he pressed chest to chest with him, noses touching. “What the fuck is so special about you?”

“Nothing,” Geralt’s voice held a warning. “I have never claimed to be more than any of my brothers. I never put myself on a pedestal nor did I ever try to lord what was said about me over any of you and I was injured. I nearly fucking died before I got here! As for not treating you as brothers anymore? You’re the one acting like a spoiled fucking child Eskel, not me.”

“You brought home a woman and we all know you have not laid with her. Your smell is nowhere on her,” he said lewdly. “What’s wrong brother? Need one of us to show you how to do it?”

Naurel grabbed Geralt’s arm as he pulled back to swing on Eskel. “Geralt don’t,” she tried to reason. “Tensions are high right now and you are both going to do or say something you can’t take back.” She moved to stand in between them. “Let’s go for a walk.”

They continued the tense stand-off for what seemed like ages but he finally looked at her and took her hand. “As you wish.”

“Run little bitch,” Eskel smirked as Geralt walked past. Geralt landed a punch that staggered Eskel who swung back in return. Before Naurel could even blink all the witchers had pulled them apart, Eskel’s nose bleeding and Geralt with a split lip.

“That’s enough, both of you!” Vesemir growled. “Wolf, you go out and cool off for a bit. Eskel, in the laboratory and get to cleaning!” When they both opened their mouths to argue Vesemir’s voice grew so threatening it made them all lower their heads. “I will tan your hides just like when you were kids if you don’t listen! Now go!”

Geralt grabbed Ciri’s arm as he stormed out and took her with them. At least if they were going on a walk he would get to spend time with them both. They had only made it out of the archway at the gates when Ciri huffed. “Why is it that I have to do what you what when you want it?”

 

“What?” he asked too lost in thought to comprehend her words.

“You just grabbed me and drug me out here even though I was training. Lambert and Coen are teaching me how to really fight. They aren’t treating me like a looking glass that will break,” she crossed her arms over her chest and pouted.

He looked at her, “I didn’t mean to take you away from training. I just wanted to spend some time together. I thought we could all go for a walk.” He laced his fingers with Naurel’s gratefully when she squeezed his hand.

“You don’t want me to train,” she continued on her train of thought. “You don’t want me to fight.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” he was honest. “I want you to be safe and when you do have to defend yourself to be ready to do so safely not something you rushed through half-assed for bloodthirsty vengeance!”

“It’s all about what you want,” she huffed. “As long as you keep me protected you don’t care if I stay locked up and never get to do anything.”

He froze where he was standing and carefully chose his next words and actions so that he didn’t lash out in hurt. Keeping his back to her, “Go practice then.” He strode away not looking back; Naurel followed after shooting the girl a glare. He continued walking at speed for several minutes before turning on her. “Do you feel forced to spend time with me too?”

He was in her face, chest heaving, eyes wild with hurt and anger, lips pulled back in a growl and she never flinched. Instead, she reached up and softly stroked the line of his jaw with her hand. “As long as I’m with you there is nowhere else I’d rather be.”

He softened and pressed a kiss to her head as he hugged her. “I’m sorry.”

“For?”

forgotten just how strong the old witcher was until Vesemir had him by the shirt and slammed against a wall.

“Enough! I have never favored one of you more than the others and I never will. Geralt studied more, spent more time in the lab and in practice than you and Lambert. That’s your own damn fault not his! Witchers are brothers and I understand tensions and fights but you are going to end up getting each other hurt or killed!”

Eskel had the sense too look ashamed of how he’d upset his mentor. “I’m sorry that I upset you it was never my intention. It’s just not fair that Geralt gets everything without even trying. It all comes so damn easy to him.” He flopped down on the bench with a sigh.

Vesemir sat next to him. “You and Geralt grew up together here Eskel. He’s older then you by a few years and he always tried to protect you and Lambert.”

“Yea, he did but even then, before the sacking, all the teachers were giving him all the attention and so amazed at how he withstood the trials. I would have taken them when I was that you too but you wouldn’t let me. I could have been the youngest witcher to pass the trial of the grasses.”

Vesemir shook his head confused by the conversation. He’d thought Geralt shared his story with Eskel when they were kids but the boy must have truly suffered through it all alone. He thought back on that time when Geralt was brought there, just a small boy no more than three or four years, and how different things were back then. The sacking of Kaer Morhen was detrimental to the future of all witchers and some of the ones lost back then were good leaders but for the most part, they were sadistic bastards who used the young boys in ways that would have destroyed them were it not for the mutations. Geralt was the last of his generation to have to go through it. Lambert and Eskel had been brought to the keep before the attack but Geralt protected them when Vesemir and Barmin couldn’t. “You need to talk to your brother Eskel because your memories seem to have holes. There are things that you are forgetting about why he went through the trials so young.” He put his hand on Eskel’s shoulder, “You are all mine. I care for you all the same and if you feel like there is a difference it’s in your own mind. Now finish cleaning in here then go get some food. I’m going to give you a chance to make it right on your own but If you and Geralt fight again I’m going to bend you both over the table and tan your hides in front of your brothers just like when you were kids.” He heard the gulp from Eskel as he turned to leave and smiled. Now he would have the same talk with the wolf when he returned.

Wolf and flame tag list

@kneelforloki

@shellyshellshell

@warriormirkwood

@mollymal

[utmvarchive]

Mobtale: a summary.

As seen before with Underfell, some UNDERTALE iterations could be better described as a whole category of AUs with similar traits. Such is the case with "Mobtale," or Mobstertale, wherein the common threads are that while monsterkind was never banished from fresh air, tensions with humankind have persisted to the point of monsters forming gangs to get by, and either the 2010s still maintain the style of the so-called "Prohibition Era" or the entire 2010s population is set back ~80-90 years.

While Mobtales can be distinguished from Undernovela by cultural differences between transatlantic USA and Latin America, Mobtales can also be distinguished from each other by monsters' jobs, dealings and relationship with humans.

Take, for example, "UT Mob AU" where human children had been experimented upon by adults to incite tensions between humans and monsters. The children were meant to be taken in by monsters as Trojan horses, and then triggered to collect their monster SOULs. Asgore and Toriel had lost their son this way, not knowing what had been done to Chara. W.D. Gaster had been researching how to rehabilitate Frisk and others before them, and Alphys was entrusted with continuing their treatment plans after his passing, but his brothers Sans and Papyrus, who used to work for Toriel but now work for Asgore, unknowingly intercepted a delivery when they found Frisk in a crate.

They did not recognize Frisk as a human but saw they wore a dog tag, which said FRISK. 349-550-0 C-TEST, so the brother nicknamed them "Little Pup" or "Lil Pup." As much as Toriel wanted to take over upon seeing Sans' and Papyrus' inexperience at childcare, she compromised that she'd help the two provide for them since Lil Pup took a liking to staying with the two at their abandoned warehouse.

Sans began investigating in secret, but after there'd been a failed attempt to mug Papyrus at knife-point, Lil Pup later attacked Sans with a knife. Papyrus intercepted and diffused the situation, and Lil Pup would not remember this incident, but Sans was still wary. He tried once to return them to the humans, with Temmies to lead the way, but he couldn't follow through when Lil Pup cried for him. So he took them back home, committing to his and Papyrus' responsibility for the child, and resumed his investigation.

Alphys would tell him everything when it led him back to her, but word about the "pup" had reached Asgore through Undyne, at which point he put out a dead-or-alive capture order. Sans intercepted the dog monsters, but Papyrus intercepting Undyne set Lil Pup off and Sans would take them both elsewhere before they could take Papyrus' SOUL. In the following struggle, Sans stole Frisk's SOUL as they were stealing his, and in the panic to preserve Frisk's, the two's SOULS osmosed to a degree before Sans Frisk's body would accept theirs back.

After this incident, Alphys was able to explain the situation to Asgore, and he called off the headhunt.

...In the case of "Undermafia," Sans and Papyrus work for W.D. Gaster, who in turn refers to Frisk as "young boss." The Skeleton Family was entrusted with the human's care when Asriel died and Toriel feared what Asgore would do after their separation. W.D. Gaster especially took a liking to Frisk, while Sans' motives are more financial and Papyrus is a reluctant but proficient sniper.

Meanwhile, in "UT Gangster AU," Sans and Papyrus, fronting as an Italian diner alongside Grillby, work for Toriel after the loss of Asriel motivated Asgore to found their gang. Asgore remains the gang's public face and Undyne acts as underboss, usually with Sans on diversion duty and Papyrus as the getaway driver. This... frequently means that Sans lets the police target him for brutal physical abuse. He does not give them the satisfaction of seeing how much they're hurting him, but he does not tell the gang what he endures for his them either, which has forced Papyrus to feign ignorance around Sans' secrets. Depending on where else alterations have been made, this AU especially could also suggest that staying on the surface has allowed monsters to emulate more physical matter– enough to bleed. Because this Sans has. Often.

As seen above, another major disctinction between Mobtales is custody of Frisk. Frisk is Asgore and Toriel's formally-adopted child in both Undernovela and Undermafia, but in UT Gangster AU they were not taken in permanently until after they tried turning Frisk in as a runaway, only for them to return to the Dreemurr family; and in UT Mob AU, it was Sans and Papyrus who adopted Frisk, being the two who found them. This is the more overt differentiation.

To understand a more subtle difference for telling apart Mobtales by their Frisks, it must first be understood that as organic lifeforms, humans have historically related identities and social designations to their external tissues, such as how adults use some of these traits to assign genders to newborns, assign social roles to genders and maintain social pressure to follow these birth assignments even into adulthood. By 201X, more human societies have begun phasing out these gender roles, but Mobtales take after a time period several decades earlier.

This may give context for the variations in Frisk's presentation between Mobtales. In UT Mob AU, they were never forced to follow this practice under the care of monsters, whereas in UT Gangster AU, they'd gotten in frequent trouble for mixing gendered school uniforms until they were homeschooled. And in Undermafia, Frisk is what other humans would call a tomboy, addressing herself as a girl while dressing more like the men and boys of the time. This could be due to the underdeveloped vernacular of the era's mainstream or to fundamental differences in her sense of identity.

...Come to think of it, I don't know whether or not assignment should also go on the list of alterations. Back in my timeline, it never came up before I ▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢, and I had no reason to review our Frisk's personal data when I went looking for □□□□.

[clickerflight]

Clove: Part 13 - Play?

GUESS WHO'S BACK! IT'S THE BOIIII!!! Let me know if you want to be on the taglist.

Masterlist

Part 12

Content: Werewolf whumpee, fear, ignorant comments about his scars, mentions of past abuse

...............................................

Ephraim had to leave to help make the house safe again. 

Hyrum knew he was safe, he knew Ephraim would be back, he had his bird toy and he was full, huddled under the blankets as snug as a hibernating creature…. but every new sound scared him. A subtle creak of the house settling had him clutching the blanket and toy closer, his heart pounding. He just wanted to be home. In Ephraim’s house. 

He pressed his face into the pillow, taking a deep breath to fill his nose with Ephraim’s scent. It was like warm raspberries picked right off the cane, undertones of bread and flowers firmly carrying home the feeling of safety. 

He slowly relaxed again and got more comfortable, pulling his toy out of the blankets to get a better look at it, running a finger over the carved features of the bird, ears twitching as the ball rolled around gently inside of it.

He sighed and tried to relax, closing his eyes again. 

That went away when he heard footsteps and voices and the front door opened. He sat up quickly, the scents of the werewolf children from the trip to see the merchant reaching his nose. 

“I don’t think we’re supposed to be in here,” said one voice, which Hyrum completely agreed with as he slipped out of the bed on the opposite side from the doorway. 

“Oh, stop being such a pansy.”

Hyrum silently dropped down and wiggled under the bed, cupping his hands over his face to muffle his breathing as he heard the two sets of footsteps come down the hall, stopping at the door. He closed his eyes as it creaked open. 

“Is he in the bed?” the younger sounding voice asked. 

The older one approached and Hyrum flinched as he patted the bed. 

“No, doesn’t look like it.”

“Is he still in here?”

“Course he is. Can’t you smell him?”

Hyrum opened his eyes in time to see knees contact the floor and a face peering under the bed, right at him. 

“Aha!” the grey haired werewolf said, tail sweeping the floor. “There he is!”

Hyrum scrambled back out without thinking, getting to his feet and backing up quickly enough that he banged rather loudly into the wall, hands searching the blank space behind him as his tail tucked itself between his legs and he ducked his head to protect his throat.

The other wolf, a younger kid with darker hair, though not quite black, stared at him while the older came around the bed, slowly and steadily, like he was stalking Hyrum. 

Hyrum felt his heart beating faster, and he whimpered as the wolf took another step towards him. 

The wolf froze, head cocked to the side for a moment. He took another step and Hyrum started seeing spots from how quickly he was breathing, none of the air actually making it anywhere. 

The wolf froze in place, halfway through another step. He backed up a bit until Hyrum felt like he could breathe again, still shaking like an aspen leaf and gasping for air, tears escaping down his cheeks. 

“What’s wrong with him?” the younger one asked.

“I don’t know,” said the elder. “Here, back out of the room. Maybe he’ll be less scared with just one of us.”

The younger wolf pouted, but did as he was told. 

Hyrum did not feel any better, pinned down under the gaze of the older wolf. Was he older? He looked older. He was bigger than Hyrum, with broader shoulders and shinier teeth and flesh on his bones. He would be a real weapon. 

Not that it mattered. Hyrum wasn’t even supposed to be a weapon anyways, apparently. 

“You’re Goldenrod, yeah?”

Hyrum relaxed a little upon hearing the nickname and nodded faintly. 

“I’m Isaac.”

Hyrum watched nervously, not certain of what the other wolf wanted. Isaac seemed to be waiting for something before looking around a little, confused. 

He looked back and asked, “What are you so scared of?”

Hyrum didn’t know how to answer. Wasn’t it obvious? There was a bigger, tougher wolf in the room, blocking his exit after breaking into the house he and Ephraim had been staying at. How was that not terrifying?

Isaac stared at him for a long time before taking a slow step forward and all of Hyrum’s muscles which had relaxed even the slightest were tight again, sweat breaking out down his back. 

Still, Isaac didn’t stop until he was a few steps away, leaning closer. Hyrum could hear him sniffing, could see he was open and relaxed. 

“Wh… What do you want?” Hyrum whispered hoarsely, terrified. 

Isaac leaned back again and frowned. “I haven’t seen another werewolf in a while that’s not from my family. I just wanted to see what your deal was.”

Hyrum didn’t know what that was supposed to mean and didn’t respond, which, to his horror, seemed to frustrate the other wolf. 

“I mean, what is your deal? Mum said there was an intruder in the village and Ephraim has been staying here and you haven’t even left this house once! Don’t you want to go outside? Don’t you want to see other pups and play?”

Hyrum shivered. Being in the sun sounded nice. It always did. But playing with pups? Isaac talked about it like it was a normal thing. And Ephraim was expecting him to be here when he got back. What if he went outside and Ephraim thought he’d been taken? Just the thought of Ephraim worrying over it for even a moment freaked Hyrum out. And what if he did get taken?

“‘M scared,” Hyrum said softly, head tucked in still. He was afraid that Isaac wouldn’t like his answer and would lash out at him and hurt him. Jack always did. 

“Why? We’re not going anywhere crazy. Me and my sibs are playing out in Mrs. Julien’s yard. It’s basically across the road from here.”

Hyrum was beginning to consider the idea, if only because he loved the feeling of sun on his skin. Isaac seemed genuine as well. 

After a long moment he nodded. “Okay… and I can come back here whenever I want, right?”

“Right,” Isaac said, impatient now. “You should bring your toy. It’s almost Angie’s turn to play and she always wants to play house or rescue the princess or sacrifices to the demon lord. Come on!”

Isaac left, leaving no context for what he’d just said, but Hyrum carefully scooped up his bird and left the comfortable room. He saw the two wolves go out the front door, talking to one another. He passed the table in the front room, giving it a wide berth as feelings of panic and fear stirred around him, as though he’d left them under there when he had been hiding there a few nights before. 

He very slowly stepped out of the house and onto the front porch, the wood rough under his bare feet and the sun like a blessing on his skin. 

He closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the feeling of it in his curls. His curls! He’d never had curly hair before. Ephraim had told him that now he was getting more food and sleep and he wasn’t covered in mange, he was getting his ‘real hair’ in. Hyrum didn’t fully understand it, but he was glad for it as a sign of being taken care of and fed. 

He stepped down onto the dirt path and quickly crossed the road, smooth rocks poking up through the dirt and pebbles here and there. 

He got to the other side and hesitated on the edge of a yard of soft grasses and small wildflowers, four wolves gathered together in the center of the yard where another brother and a sister had been waiting. 

Isaac waved him over and he approached carefully. 

“This is Goldenrod,” Isaac said, and the girl nodded, eyeing Hyrum’s toy a little bit, making him clutch it a little tighter. “Goldenrod, this is my brother Simon, you’ve met Lionel, and this is Angie.” Lionel was the wolf who had come to the house with Isaac, it seemed. Simon and Angie both had black hair and fur and Simon nodded, a little intrigued, though it was Angie who spoke first. 

“What’s wrong with your face?” she asked, tilting her head. 

Hyrum felt a swoop of… what was that feeling? Like he was anxious, but in an entirely different way. He didn’t realize that the way Isaac had talked to him had given him a new idea. One of being accepted by more than just Ephraim, and now he felt like that was dashed. Destroyed by Jack because of the scars on his face. 

He could feel his eyes watering and he looked down quickly, glad for his curly hair for another reason now. 

“Hey! Be nice, Angie,” Isaac barked. “Seriously, mum taught you manners! I was there for it!”

Angie huffed. “I just wanted to know,” she whined. 

“It really isn’t nice,” Simon said in a quiet, slow tone. 

“Oh, come on! Scars are cool!”

Cool? What could possibly be cool about the pain and starvation he went through? What was good about that written across his entire body? For no good reason? There was no reason for it. None of it. None of the silver or knives or ‘training’ or the initials in his arm. No reason for the burns or the broken fingers or the bleeding head wounds or the mange. 

Hyrum turned to go back to the house, wrapping his arms tightly around his body causing the toy to be shoved harshly into his ribs. 

“Wait!” Lionel said, running up and coming around to stand in front of Hyrum. He was shorter than Hyrum was, but he still looked stronger. He looked up into Hyrum’s face earnestly and said, “Please can you stay? We can make her go home! We want to play with you!”

“Hey! You can’t make me go home!”

“We will if you don’t apologize,” Isaac nodded and Simon added, “A real apology, Angie.”

She huffed at both of them but she came over, a rather worn doll in hand and she took a deep breath. 

“I’m sorry, Goldenrod. I shouldn’t have asked about your scars and I won’t ask again. Will you play with us?”

Hyrum was puzzled by her tone. It was strange but he didn’t recognize it enough to put a finger on it. Still, hesitant and feeling a little bit pressure from their eyes all on him, he nodded. 

They all seemed very excited and had him kneel in the grass to play where he lived the strangest hour of his life giving a personality to his bird toy and helping rescue a princess from a demon who wanted to play house with her. 

Part 14

Clove Taglist: @wolfeyedwitch @the-blind-one-speaks @whumpsday @extrabitterbrain @inkkswhumpandstuff @honeycollectswhump @whump-blog-reblogs @pigeonwhumps @mj-or-say10

[tic-toc-clock77]

The Scarecrow Girl - Dwellers Version

Cw: abuse, religious, physical and emotional abuse/trauma, suicide, mutilation, sacrifice, force feeding, starving

The Scarecrow Girl formerly lived in a small town as a regular young girl with brown eyes and black chin length. She lived with her average mother, father and was an only child. She grew up admiring the town farmer's son and they went to the same school and the same church.

At 15 years old, she began developing a crush on the farmer boy, she was utterly obsessed with him after a short while. Because her parents didn't want their young daughter dating and getting her heart broken, she had to hide her feelings until she couldn't take it anymore...

She told her parents she was in love but they were terrified for her and her overprotective father forbade her from ever seeing him again, going as far as to keep her locked away in her room for 4 years.

She tried to fight back but only ended up being abused for it, she couldn't escape the house and when she tried, she was tied down to her bed. From then on, she had to be force fed. When she screamed for help, she would be hit until her body was covered in scars and bruises.

Her screaming would last all night, every night until her mother called for the local priest to exorcise her. He came daily, screaming things at her while she begged for help, nobody ever came...

After 4 whole years of being abused, either force fed or starved, screamed at, beaten black and blue, tied down and mentally destroyed...her bonds came loose, randomly it seemed and finally, the hope she held onto, to finally confess, gave her strength.

Pale arms, bruised with long black hair reaching down her sides, she climbed out of her window in the dead of night and went to see the boy who looked at her in horror when he saw her and claimed she was a witch that came back from the dead.

Rejected and dejected, she made her way out to the farmer's field, took a pitch fork and stabbed it into her chest, letting her blood soak into the ground of where she and the farmer's son used to lay as children...

Days later, the farmer's son found the girls body. Instead of properly burying her, he thought that she was scary enough to be a new scarecrow and heartlessly, he dragged her body to his shed, mutilated her by stuffing her open wounds with straw, when the straw was pushed past her organs and through her mouth her once closed eyes opened again which he did not notice, he wandered out to the field, stuck her up on the post and nailed her rotting arms into the wood.

The boy had been, much more demented than the scarecrow had ever known when she was alive. He talked to her daily, she only wanted to talk back, like they used to but her eyes could still, her ears could still hear but her body, could not move.

One day, the boy came to the scarecrow and explained, he'd met a girl named Lily. He planned on bringing the young woman to his home and introducing her to the rotting corpse nailed to the wood. Enraged and jealous, the scarecrow screamed in front of the boy but he kept talking to her, ignoring her scream.

That night, a creature of mist and fog coloured in black and red appeared before the scarecrow, the creature named Zalgo explained he'd released her bounds and that he could more for her. The scarecrow begged for life again, she begged to have the chance to get rid of Lily and Zalgo granted it.....at a cost.

She swore she'd work for Zalgo forever if she could just live again and he granted that wish. Able to move again, she found a scythe and anxiously hurried toward the farm where she watched, seething with jealousy, as Lily and the farmer boy ate together with his family.

Finally, she broke the window, scaring the entire family which the scarecrow mercilessly slaughtered until it was just her and the boy, who was terrified of her. Just as she went to confess her love again, she was taken away by Zalgo and forced into the underworld...

As a Zalgoid minion, Scarecrow gave up on love and fully dedicates herself to Zalgo and her job as a minion. She, along with Stripes and The Rake, are always working and coming up with plots to take down the Slenderman and his workers...

[fivenightsatfreddysfanfiction]

Thanks for the Memories

Jeremy draws on various memories when Gregory and Cassie ask for help with their school reports, and a visit by Alex sets off far darker and more painful ones, all revolving around one man; Mike Schmidt.

----------------------------

The bell over the door jingled, catching Jeremy’s attention as he looked up from the small endoskeleton he was assembling to see who had walked into the shop. “Oh, hey, Mike,” he greeted with a grin, seeing the older man step carefully around a table covered in scrap parts and plush animatronic casings. The dubious look on Mike’s face at the miniature versions of the Fazband was par for the course; neither of them expected to be able to make the toys without Fazbear Entertainment coming for their heads, but considering the legal debacle the company was in over Mike being the Bite victim and Jeremy’s father being cleared of allegations of being a murder accomplice, maybe they were letting it slide to avoid more trouble.

Fine by Jeremy, he’d use his father’s software to do some good in the world and protect kids via the Securi-Toys. Balance out the crap Fazbear Entertainment did to cover up those kids’ murders.

“It’s weird to be around tiny Fazfucks,” Mike remarked dryly, picking up a fuzzy head for a Freddy toy and squinting at it suspiciously, “Feels like they’re gonna come to life and come for my kneecaps or some shit.”

“Well, they’re not. I’m the one making them, so they’re more defense than ‘I’m gonna stuff you in a Christmas stocking at midnight’,” Jeremy replied with a chuckle. He reached out to pat his computer affectionately, “Papa’s software will finally get to do what he intended it to do; keep kids safe from harm.”

Mike took another look around at the collection of parts and equipment, eyes squinting as he took time to process what he was seeing, likely just now realizing that Jeremy had quite a lot of stuff for his new workshop that he couldn’t have been able to afford by himself. He set the Freddy head down, a scowl on his face that Jeremy could tell came from confusion and frustration with that confusion. His new medication to help with managing the lingering effects of his head injury was a lot less effective compared to having the 5th Child’s spirit guide his thoughts and give internal reminders.

But Faith was gone now, passing on in the effort spent to keep Mike alive from the second bite a possessed Foxy gave him, so now the two of them had to continue living without her to rely on for help and support. Probably for the best that Mike and Jeremy had no plans to go near a Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza Place location for the rest of their lives, if they could help it. The Home Location was locked down, fully taken over by the spirits of the children still bound there and his papa’s ghost looking over the place to ensure they got to ‘play’ freely within its boundary.

“Where’d this stuff come from anyway?” Mike finally asked, poking at an animatronic eye and watching it roll around in its tray.

“Papa’s family contacted me after the stuff with us and Fazbear Entertainment hit the news,” Jeremy replied. He still didn’t know how to feel about that; anger that they had stayed distant for so long after disowning his father, irritation that they only chose now to reach out, after his father was long dead and his name had been smeared and it took Jeremy’s efforts to clear it, a strange gratitude that they reached out at all, that somebody wanted him. Most of all was just frustration that they could have cleared things up sooner, faster, if they hadn’t turned away from his father’s plight and ignored the early signs of spousal abuse his mother inflicted on him and then turned to inflicting on Jeremy once his father was dead.

But then, Jeremy would have never met Mike, wouldn’t have the Dad he yearned to have as a kid and the loving family home he’d always hoped for. So many conflicting feelings.

“They sent me all this stuff when I told them I was planning to make little animatronic toys with Papa’s software as a business and then offered to be a supplier of parts on a family discount.” Jeremy waved his hand over all the equipment and boxes of metal. He shrugged. “Guess this was their way of saying ‘Sorry for ignoring you and your papa for your entire lives’. Kind of a lame apology but at least it saves me the trouble of buying all this myself at full price. I can spend my money on going to school for engineering instead, get a better handle on how all this stuff goes together.”

“Back to school for you, huh?” Mike remarked with a proud smile, “Yeah, that’s a good use of the bribe money that fuckwad company gave you to settle out of court. Using mine to finally pay for the wedding Doll deserves to have for putting up with me.” Jeremy lit up at the news, his smile stretching his cheeks in excitement.

“That’s awesome! You guys are getting married at last! This is the best ending ever!” he exclaimed, jumping up from his chair to hug Mike, snuggling into the older man’s embrace.

“Yeah, and we have you to thank for that, too,” Mike told him in quiet joy, “You looking for answers to questions I didn’t even think to ask or knew was there, savin’ me from the bullshit that happened that night. We’re gonna have a good life from now on, you, me, and Doll. Make some good memories that’ll last us both.”

That was the happiest Jeremy felt in a long time, beaten out only by the joy they all shared when Mike’s daughter Faith was born.

--------------------

Present Day-

The bell over the door jingled, catching Jeremy’s attention as he looked up from the small endoskeleton he was assembling to see who had walked into the shop. “Oh, hey, Gregory,” he greeted with a grin and glanced over to the girl that walked in with him, “and you brought a friend! That’s a first.” He snickered at the pout Gregory shot him in return.

“Come on, Mr. Fitzgerald, you’re gonna make me sound lame!” the boy complained while the newcomer looked around at everything in awe. “This is Cassie,” Gregory introduced his friend and Jeremy greeted her with a nod, “We’re doing reports on technology innovators for school and Cassie’s doing hers on Afton Robotics. Her dad used to work for them as a technician so she’s really interested in their A.I. and stuff.”

“Huh, I thought you’d do that one yourself,” Jeremy commented, eyebrows raising in surprise. The boy had been primed to be an Afton engineer, a perfect host body for William Afton, based on what Ven and Damien had figured out and what Vanessa had told them happened under the Pizzaplex.

“Nah, the whole class expected me to write about Afton Robotics, but I don’t want to get seen poking in their official stuff,” Gregory grumbled, arms folding over his chest. Probably to avoid being put in a position to get disappeared again. Jeremy sighed; seemed like Fazbear Entertainment hadn’t stopped with the weird cover-ups. Not with how many people kept disappearing in town over the years.

“So then what are you doing here?” he asked in confusion before blinking at Gregory’s phrasing. ‘Official’ resources. “You want Cassie to have access to our data on Afton Robotics?” he asked warily, narrowing his eyes at Gregory nodding and Cassie giving him a puzzled look.

“Why do you have something like that? Isn’t your family’s company a competitor to Afton Robotics?” she questioned.

“It’s complicated,” Jeremy told her and rubbed his head, a long sigh drawing out of him as he thought over how to explain things. “I don’t know. Our database is seriously out of date, and we only have it to try and figure out what happened in the past to make sure it doesn’t happen again in the future.” He gave Gregory a meaningful glare, “Clearly we didn’t get enough relevant information to prevent a repeat of Circus Baby and the Eggs Benedict A.I. situation.”

Gregory scowled briefly before shrugging it off, his expression turning more uncaring of his experience. Cassie blinked in surprise, “Circus Baby? From Circus Baby’s Pizza and Parties? Gregory said you’re the one who built her.”

“Her physical forms, yeah,” Jeremy admitted, leaning back in his chair and looking over the scattering of parts and tools in the workshop, “Her first body was originally from Afton Robotics, but her A.I. was stolen from another family.”

“Bold accusation,” Cassie pointed out flatly. Jeremy shrugged.

“We have proof, but that proof will cause a lot more pain and trouble to a lot more people than it’s worth. So the best that happened was a good copy of the A.I. was stolen back, which had a ton of Afton Robotics data attached to it that we kept, Fazbear Entertainment kept the master copy, and their feud stays in the shadows as long as no one else gets dragged into the mess,” he replied carefully. “I built Circus Baby’s current self for the rescued A.I. and that’s who you see in Meera’s pizzeria. Fazbear Entertainment doesn’t bother me about it because of an old settlement between them and me about my papa.”

“The guy in the museum who looks like you?” Gregory asked, his eyes wide, “You had beef with Fazbear Entertainment cuz of him?”

“Huh, didn’t know the family put Papa’s picture back up there,” Jeremy remarked in an unimpressed tone, “Nice of them to do after so many years of pretending he and I didn’t exist. Guess that was also part of the apology gift of all this stuff they sent me for the business back when I was younger.” He frowned a bit, studying Cassie carefully before glancing back over at Gregory. “I can print out some stuff from the files, but I gotta make sure it’s safe stuff. Think you two can spare some time to wait around for that?”

Gregory looked uncertain for a bit there, and Jeremy felt a little bad about reminding the kid that his database wasn’t public knowledge for good reason. But what was contained in the copy of Afton files he stored in the workshop was less about the surface level stuff on the animatronics as entertainment and more about William Afton’s research on Remnant and how to get more of it and what it could do for creating A.I. and extending human life. Stuff that no child should see.

Stuff that Gregory shouldn’t have had first hand knowledge of but it couldn’t be helped since he and his mother were unfortunate victims of Elizabeth Afton’s attempts to resurrect her daughter and William.

Jeremy would have to carefully sift through what he had and pick out anything that looked like it was just about animatronic coding and hope there wasn’t anything mentioned that could lead down a rabbit hole Cassie could get lost in. Maybe he’d be lucky and find some new angles on the current mystery of what went on in the Pizzaplex during this search.

“Grandma knows where I am, so I can take my time,” Cassie chimed in, looking for a chair to sit in and settle down for writing, “Dunno why you guys are so weird about some files but I guess it has something to do with legal stuff.”

Gregory shrugged listlessly and Jeremy just sighed and turned to his computer, setting up a search in the database for a sample of files based on some keywords. With that done, he turned back to Gregory. “My ‘beef’ with Fazbear Entertainment was because of Papa, Jeremy Jonathan Fitzgerald Sr.,” he replied to the boy’s earlier question, “He was accused of something he didn’t do and died before he could clear his name. I finished the investigation myself, found the proof that he was innocent that had been hidden because of the cover-ups done to the Missing Children Incident they did, and to keep me and my proof out of court, Fazbear Entertainment publicly declared my father innocent of wrongdoing after their own ‘investigation’ and gave me a hell of a settlement check as an ‘apology’ for taking that long to clear his name.”

“Yeah, sounds about right for that Afton lady to do,” Gregory grumbled, “They did the same thing for Vanessa and Sydney to make us ‘go away’.” Jeremy gave him a wry grin. It did seem like a repeat situation, though likely it was because of Vanessa bearing the name ‘Afton’ and the company scrambling to not piss off their owner, and Meera had stormed into their office in a fury over the condition of her ‘cousin’ Sydney, which set off the earlier secret unofficial agreement to keep peace between the Enfuego Family and Fazbear Entertainment.

Not like Meera was going to honor her side anyway, blood feuds didn’t end until a whole bloodline was wiped out, but Jeremy hoped to be far away from that fallout when it happened.

Gregory’s eyes flicked to Jeremy’s computer screen as an image flashed by in the database search, and his expression twitched. Jeremy glanced over to see what he had reacted to and smiled a bit at the images of the Guards scrolling through at a set speed. The keywords had been about animatronics, so it might have pulled up the files on the various guards who matched certain generations of animatronics. He pointed at the screen. “You saw me in there? I was the night watch for the ‘new’ Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza Place at the home location, when the Toy Fazband was built and sent over and ended up getting Papa’s software uploaded when they connected to the network.”

“You were a security guard?” Gregory questioned dubiously.

“How did you think I was doing my investigation? I got hired there to save up for a place of my own and also look for the clues and evidence I needed to clear Papa’s name,” Jeremy replied with a chuckle, “That’s where I met my best friend, who then became my dad.” He reached out to grab a framed photo from his desk and held it out to the boy. “That’s him,” he pointed out, “Mike Schmidt, best dad a lonely teen with PTSD could ask for.”

Gregory took the framed photo from him and studied it in silence, leaving Jeremy to turn back to his database search and clean up the results. There were a few files that seemed safe enough to share, mostly early blueprints for the Funtime animatronics and planning discussions for the types of personalities their A.I. would have programmed. He sent those to the printer and flagged the rest of the search for later reading himself.

“Did your headache come back? Here, you’re lucky I always keep some medicine on me for you these days,” Cassie said suddenly. Jeremy spun in his chair to blink at Gregory gripping his head with a grimace, the photo held close to his chest in a hug to keep from dropping it. The girl had hopped out of her chair, unzipping her pouch to take out a bottle of basic headache medication, sorting out a couple of pills to hold out to Gregory. While he threw both of them into his mouth, she also grabbed a bottle of water out of her backpack to hand to him as well. “Maybe it’s something to do with stress? My dad used to get headaches after coming home from work and he blamed stress.”

“Y-yeah, probably that,” Gregory muttered between sips of water. He handed the photo back to Jeremy with a weak smile. “He seems.. nice.”

“He looked nice in that photo cuz that was when I got accepted to the college I wanted to go to,” Jeremy replied with a laugh, “If you asked anyone else, Mike was a jerk on the best of days and an asshole with a mean streak on the worst days. Then again, most people didn’t know that part of the reason he was perpetually pissed off was because of having to survive six hours a night for five nights a week against killer robots.”

“Can’t relate,” Gregory snarked dryly before looking over at the printer buzzing, papers sliding out into the tray, “Oh, hey, stuff’s done.” Jeremy gestured at him to go ahead and the boy took the papers, handing them over to Cassie. “Here ya go, hope that’s enough for a decent report,” he told her. She flashed him a smile in thanks, taking the stack and immediately turning to read them, an excited gleam in her eyes.

“So if you’re not doing a report on Afton Robotics, which company did you pick?” Jeremy asked Gregory in mild interest. With a nervous laugh, the kid just rubbed the back of his neck and gave a one-shoulder shrug.

“I went with Fitzgerald Defense and Security. Figured it’d be easy to do if I ask you about it,” Gregory admitted and widened his eyes, poking his fingertips together, “Could you help me, Mr. Fitzgerald?” He then immediately flinched, one hand rising up to press to his forehead, “Ow! What the fuck.. stupid headache.. when’s that damn medicine gonna kick in?!”

“I’ll help when you feel better. Go sit,” Jeremy told him with a wry grin. He was a little touched that the kid wanted to write about his father’s family company, but he wasn’t sure how much help he’d actually be. His father didn’t really say much to anyone about Fitzgerald Defense and Security, didn’t keep a lot of notes in regards to it, just small references and names in regards to the maintenance and creation of the first set of Toy Animatronics. Jeremy turned back to the database, frowning at a few mentions of his father’s name in the Afton files.

It was a little frightening to have learned just how close his father came to catching Elizabeth Afton’s attention for looking too hard and too intently at the springlock mechanisms of those early hybrid animatronics. If he’d been at that sister location when the failures happened.. well, that would explain a lot about his father’s behavior at the home location afterwards and why Damien was so violently aggressive towards any iteration of Springtrap. Might actually have been a good thing that he went back to the home location immediately to decommission Spring Bonnie and Fredbear; Elizabeth seemed to target software-leaning engineers and programmers for host bodies for her father-in-law if Gregory’s affinity for Afton software and animatronic hardware was any indicator.

He dismissed the files with a soft sigh, trying to push thoughts of his father out of mind as he turned his gaze towards the photo of himself and Mike. His relationship with his father was complicated, doubly so when first interacting with Damien after their mutual realization; lots of arguing, lots of crying, lots of apologies, lots of explanations, excuses, accusations, and regrets, enough to have any therapist who could work with them rolling in counseling fees. By now, Jeremy had settled into a kind of equilibrium with his memories of his father and his life now with the man’s soul existing within his reincarnation. He could work with Damien and sometimes he’d end up working alongside Jonathan, in those few instances where he was Awake to help him and Damien get through some difficult troubleshooting in the workshop.

“So when will I get to see you again, Dad?” Jeremy mumbled, reaching out to tap his fingertip to the photo, “Or did you lose out on reincarnation by giving up Six? Would that happen to me when it’s time I give back Seven?” Because Seven was like Six, born from Jeremy’s feelings of hope for living and desire to heal his wounded past and family, and given the direction to protect by Damien, and so the created spirit endlessly kept Jeremy’s body healing, extending his life and slowing his aging. Jeremy didn’t want to live forever, but he also didn’t want to miss his chance to possibly find Mike again.

If his Papa got his soul messed with and exposed to enough Remnant to be reincarnated, then surely Mike would get the same chance. Years of working at Freddy’s, surrounded by so much Remnant, actually being possessed for nearly his whole life up until they both left Freddy’s employment, if anyone deserved to be reincarnated it was him. But did giving up Six change that? Supernatural stuff was way beyond his knowledge.

“Mr. Fitzgerald? I’m feeling better now, so could I ask you about your family’s company for my report?” Gregory asked cautiously, pencil and paper in his hands and concerned expression on his face. Jeremy gave him a small smile before shaking himself off, setting his thoughts aside for later. He could almost imagine Mike telling him to wait until after work to mope and his grin grew more genuine.

“Yeah, sure, let’s see how much help I can be,” he replied.

They talked for a while about the kinds of things Fitzgerald Defense and Security worked on, though Jeremy knew more about the line of observation and reporting animatronics than anything else. That was the line that developed based on the Toy Animatronics his father had programmed and the source of the parts he used to build Circus Baby’s forms and the Securi-Toys. Part of him wondered who handled the programming for them now, since Jonathan was the software engineer for the family before his disowning and death.

The scratching of pencils over paper as both kids wrote their reports filled the air, letting Jeremy sit back and relax. It was a slow business day, much of his paperwork had been done already, Damien’s paycheck was already sent out and the few orders for repairs he had were nearly complete so he could afford a little break before finishing them. Despite the melancholy brought about by his usual missing of his dad, he was happy with his life. A little longer, he’ll wait a little longer for any signs of him reincarnating and if he or Damien couldn’t find Mike anywhere then Jeremy would have to accept that his dad got his wish of truly passing on.

True rest sounded like it’d be nice. If it worked out like that, then maybe giving Seven to Damien again wouldn’t be so bad; the spirit worked well with him and Six, a solid team.

The kids exchanged papers to read over the reports and double check their work and Cassie quickly made a face at Gregory’s writing. “Gregory, you can’t turn in a paper that calls Toy Chica ‘Stupid Japanese Bird’!” she scolded, “That’s awful!”

“I’m not the one who made her that way,” Gregory replied with a pout, folding his arms over his chest.

“Y’know, I never understood why Papa programmed that into her,” Jeremy admitted, sheepish expression on his face. “The pervy stuff she kinda learned on her own, though. It was the reason why Mike hated her during my time at the pizzeria. So much weird innuendo.”

“See? Mr. Fitzgerald agrees with me!” Gregory declared smugly. Cassie just gave him an unimpressed look as she slid the paper back across the table.

“Fix it,” she told him and he sighed in complaint but took the paper and began erasing his words.

“Fine, but I still stand by my opinion!”

“Your opinion sucks; you didn’t even know she existed until Mr. Fitzgerald told you about the Toys.”

The kids were amusing. Jeremy hid his quiet laughter behind his hand.

It wasn’t long before Cassie checked her phone and informed him and Gregory that she was being picked up by her grandmother. “Thanks a bunch for the info, Mr. Fitzgerald,” she said with a smile, “It was really cool to learn about the Funtimes. Do you think Funtime Foxy was the starting base for Roxy? Both of them were pretty gung-ho about their show times and making sure people were there to see them.”

“It’s possible. Afton Robotics kept pretty good records on their animatronic programming, even if some of that programming wasn’t exactly theirs to keep. I can still respect archiving old software, even if I don’t like the people doing the archiving,” Jeremy mused and squinted a bit in thought, “I wonder.. it’s been a while since I thought about where the drives holding the backups of the original Fazband went. Router stole copies long ago, but the originals also went missing during the fire sale after Fazbear Frights burned down.”

“You think if Afton Robotics got them they’d remake the old animatronics for the museum?” Cassie asked hopefully, “It’d be really cool to see what Freddy and the others looked like in the old times!” Jeremy laughed again, rueful in sound. ‘Old times’ certainly made him feel a lot older.

The funny part was they did sort of remake the old Fazband, but they had been silent, empty shells of themselves, little more than hunting endos dressed up in suits that mimicked the original Fazband crafted to capture Mike and collect samples of his Remnant. Didn’t work since they didn’t pose the challenge Mike was used to countering, so he kept them at bay easily. All that did was prove that the drives housing the programming for the originals wasn’t in Afton’s hands, so they were still lost.

Gregory didn’t chime in, tapping the eraser end of his pencil against the table top as he gazed distantly off, like he wasn’t quite tuned into the here and now. Lost in his thoughts maybe? Jeremy couldn’t really tell. Every now and then the boy’s eyebrows twitched, eyes narrowing just the smallest bit. It reminded him of when Mike would be processing events after a flurry of them on a night shift, slowly sifting through what information he’d managed to grab and sorting them out to something coherent enough for him. Maybe Gregory was the same way, just with something else affecting his thought processing. Jeremy had seen Damien hand off a few fidget toys to the boy some time back so the tapping pencil was probably his immediate stand-in for one.

He pulled himself out of it in time to walk Cassie to the shop entrance when her grandmother pulled up, waving goodbye as she left and then coming back to sit at the table again, a frown on his face.

“Something on your mind?” Jeremy asked. With Cassie gone, they could both be more open about things in regards to the Aftons and animatronics.

“I dunno. My headache’s not really gone, but it’s not really hurting either,” Gregory replied uncertainly, hand rising to his forehead to rub carefully at his scalp. “Like... it itches inside my head and it’s kinda annoying. What the hell am I supposed to do about that?”

“Mike used to have a problem like that. We figured out a bit late in the game that he could kinda soothe it with a heating pad. Wait here, I think I’ve got one stashed away,” Jeremy replied, getting to his feet and wincing at feeling a tingle around his knees. Whatever creaking or popping was supposed to happen at his age simply didn’t, not with Seven immediately dealing with any minor damages caused by growing older. “Since Cassie’s gone home, how about you? Gonna call Vanessa to pick you up?” he called over his shoulder as he went into the backroom to search for a heating pad or hand warmer.

“I dunno if she’s home right now. She said she was gonna go bargain shopping for suppliers for Radical Eats with Sydney, so maybe Alex will come get me. I can text him and maybe he’ll actually bring those lemon cookies I told him to make,” Gregory said and Jeremy’s eyebrows rose at the words. That sounded super appealing since Faith liked to tease him by making lemon bars for Damien and not letting him have any until after Damien had his fill. His adoptive little sister could be such a pain sometimes but he loved her all the same.

“I didn’t know Router could bake cookies. Figured being an angry hacker was all he could do,” he commented as he fished a small hot water bottle out of his med kit and filled it with hot tap water. He wrapped it in a cloth towel and headed back out to the workshop. “Why did you tell him to make my favorite cookies?” he asked curiously.

Gregory was looking down at his phone, legs idly kicking back and forth as he tapped out his texts rapidly. “Because I was getting bored with him whining about you showing me stuff and I can tell he’s just clinging to this whole idea of being your rival cuz you’re not giving him any attention,” he replied with a roll of his eyes and a huff of exasperation, “So I told him to bribe you into talking to him with a plate of lemon cookies like ages ago but he hasn’t done it yet so I keep poking him about it whenever I get the chance and this is another good chance to do it since I’m making him come here to get me.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Jeremy sighed, shoulders slumping as yet more complicated feelings and memories rose up from the conversation. He really didn’t care for Router, was happier to think of him as just up and gone after making that deal in the weird underground facility, had never really forgiven him for the chaos he caused in Freddy’s that night he and his partner and mercenary gang broke in to steal the Fazbands and ended up temporarily killing Mike. As far as Jeremy was concerned, if he never had to cross paths with the hacker again, he’d pretend there was a god and thank them every day just for that. “I haven’t reached out probably for the same reason he hasn’t tried to contact me,” he added firmly, holding out the wrapped hot water bottle and watching Gregory carefully place it on his head, “We don’t like each other for past and personal reasons, and we’d probably just end up fighting if you put us in the same room for any length of time. It’s safer for both of us and everyone we care about if we just don’t make contact.”

“Uuuugh, you two are so laaaame! And annoying!” Gregory complained loudly, slumping back in his chair with the bottle on his head, “What even did you guys do to each other for this stupid rival thing to start in the first place?!”

“He got my best friend killed the night we ‘met’,” Jeremy told him flatly, a scowl on his face as he folded his arms over his chest.

Gregory blinked a few times, then looked away bashfully. “Oh,” he said quietly before his brow furrowed a little and he looked back up in confusion, “But.. you brought him back.. right?”

Jeremy felt his eye twitch. “That doesn’t make it all better, you know,” he replied and there was something else. Something that didn’t feel right about this, something uncomfortable that he couldn’t pin down. But he’d spent too long at Freddy’s to ignore gut feelings of something not quite right and he could feel himself getting more on edge, eyes glancing around to try and see if he could find the source of his unease.

“Sorry,” Gregory mumbled, a miserable look on his face, “I thought.. Freddy said that he and Knife Lady talked and agreed that they weren’t gonna be friends cuz Freddy did something in his past life that pissed off Knife Lady and she wasn’t gonna forgive him for it but she was okay with him being around us because he was trying to do better in this life. So.. so I thought...”

Jeremy sighed again, feeling his own headache coming on between trying to deal with Gregory and trying to pin down whatever was causing this sense of unease. “You thought if we talked something like that would come up and we’d come to some agreement too,” he guessed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he heard Gregory sniffle a little.

“I just.. I just want Alex to stop being an asshole cuz I like coming here to visit when you’re around,” he whimpered, “And I want you to just give him a chance cuz he’s really trying. He bakes stuff for me and helps me with homework and teaches me about hacking and programming-”

“I get it, I get it, he’s great to you and you want us to get along,” Jeremy cut in because he didn’t want to hear any more. It was so much easier to just think of Router as he remembered him in their first encounter with each other, when they were enemies and things were black and white because he and Mike were the good guys protecting the property and Router and Panther were the bad guys breaking in to steal it and then Mike got killed and Router was forever stamped as evil beyond forgiveness in Jeremy’s eyes.

He was so furious with the man that he had very nearly killed him that night. If it hadn’t been for Faith, for the Fifth Child, he probably would have and destroyed his own hope to save Mike in the process.

But this? A child pleading with him to give the guy a chance.. at what exactly? He didn’t want anything to do with Router, but he felt bad that Gregory felt this way about the fact that neither of them liked each other. And yet that wasn’t a good enough reason to just wave away the trauma and anger and pain of that night just so Gregory could have his ideal.

The bell above the door jingled and Jeremy pulled his fingers from his pinching to see who walked in. The young man who was Router’s reincarnation.. great.

The first thing Router did was zero in on Gregory looking gloomy in his chair with a hot water bottle on his head and then look up at Jeremy with a near-murderous glower that Jeremy returned with a glare of his own, sparks of green electricity flickering around his hand, daring him to try anything.

“What did you do to him?” Router growled, stepping closer to Gregory and giving his sparking hand a wary glance. “Did you make him cry?!”

“I didn’t do shit to him,” Jeremy retorted, “He got a headache while working on his homework, hence water bottle.” He folded his arms over his chest again. “Him looking all sad like this is because of you holding this stupid grudge towards me when you’re the one who fucked things up.”

“Me fucking up?!” Router declared in offense, stepping forward in confrontation, “You were never supposed to be at that fucking pizzeria, Fitzgerald! I had your precious daddy tell you to fuck off and you’re the one who showed up and fucked everything for all of us! You fucking got my best friend killed that night and I’m never forgiving you for that!”

“You got my best friend killed that same night, so I’m not forgiving you for that either!” Jeremy yelled, feeling the urge to beat the ego out of the man again.

“But you got him back!” Router shot back furiously, “You brought him back to life somehow! I saw him with you in that bunker! You brought him back but you couldn’t do the same for Panther, you couldn’t do it for my best friend and I hate you for leaving me without him for so long!”

“I wouldn’t have done it even if I knew I could at the start,” Jeremy hissed in contempt, “He deserved to rot in hell for coming after Mike for whatever stupid reason he got into his head and I’m glad he lost all his memories because at least he’s less of a shithead without them while you’re a reincarnated asshole who still didn’t get his best friend back.”

“Stop fighting!” Gregory shrieked, throwing the hot water bottle at Jeremy and hitting him in the stomach with surprising force. He stumbled back in surprise, feeling Seven already working to heal the bruising. “You’re both being fucking jerks! Get some therapy! Or shoot each other with Nerf guns or something, I don’t care! Just stop fighting!”

Silence filled the workshop then, broken only by Gregory still sniffling, now hugging Router’s side tight, and Router’s own breathing shaky in the wake of Jeremy’s last barrage of words. He thought back over what he’d said and winced a little. Okay, that had been a low blow so maybe Gregory was fair in chucking that water bottle at him.

“Let’s go,” Router muttered after a long exhale that Jeremy was pretty sure was meant to steady his voice, “Vanessa and Sydney are bringing takeout again so I told Freddy he doesn’t have to make pizza for dinner before I came to pick you up.”

“I’m sorry,” Gregory mumbled and Router just shook his head, rolling his eyes even as he patted the boy on the back comfortingly.

“Now do you believe me about how Fitzgerald and I have an undying hate for each other?” he asked lightly, almost mockingly, “And how we’ll never get along?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘undying’,” Jeremy corrected mildly, returning the glare Router gave him with a quick shrug, “I do plan to die someday, from old age. Just on my terms.” It wasn’t often he got to be petty so he’d take the chance even if it didn’t really feel as good as he thought it should.

“Why can’t you just talk to each other?” Gregory complained bitterly, “Fucking assholes, both of you.”

“Some things you just can’t get past, so the only thing you can do is just recognize that it’s better to not be around things, or people, that are an issue,” Jeremy replied carefully.

“But you were both there at the Pizzaplex!” Gregory protested, “You were working together there that night to save me and Vanessa and Freddy!”

“We.. we weren’t there for you or her,” Router admitted quietly, a grimace on his face, “We were actually there for Sydney. You three were just kinda a bonus we didn’t expect.” Gregory stared up at him in surprise before swiveling his head over to give the same stare at Jeremy when he spoke up.

“And we weren’t exactly working together. Router ran off to do whatever on his own and I stayed with Damien to do technical support for Circus Baby,” he clarified, shifting uneasily on his feet. That sense of something not right never left, still lingered in the back of his mind and the sooner he got both of them to leave so he could focus on analyzing it, the better. “So, yeah. Not in the same place if we can help it.”

“You guys are assholes,” Gregory repeated stubbornly, hugging Router tighter.

“If I stop bitching every time you want to come here or talk about Fitzgerald, will you stop trying to get us to talk to each other?” Router offered with a sigh. Jeremy noted how the younger man very obviously refused to face or look at him, keeping his eyes on the door to the workshop.

Gregory sniffed, but at least looked like he was considering it. He glanced up at Jeremy while still silent and he almost looked.. disappointed.

For some reason, seeing that expression.. hurt.

Jeremy swallowed, tightening his fingers to clutch at the sleeves of his shirt, and he looked away to evade that disappointed gaze. “You can’t force forgiveness,” he explained quietly, “Not.. not when we’re not ready to try.”

“Not when we’re not willing to try,” Router amended with a huff, glaring at the door.

“..Do you think.. if Mike was around.. he’d try to talk things out with Sydney?” Gregory asked haltingly.

“Dunno. Doubt we’ll ever know,” Jeremy sighed, stepping back to lean against his desk and letting his eyes fall to the framed photo. God, he missed him so, so much. Mike would probably know what to do in this situation, right? Or at least just make it painfully clear where he stood with just a punch to break up the situation entirely. “Panther doesn’t remember Mike and.. and Mike hasn’t appeared in any way, ghost or reincarnation. For all I know, he’d probably flip Panther off and the guy won’t know why Mike would be so pissed.”

“His name’s Sydney, not Panther,” Router bit out, shooting him another glare before refocusing on the door. His eyes looked almost watery. “He doesn’t act like that anymore, doesn’t remember it, so there’s no point giving him his old codename when it doesn’t fit him anymore.”

Jeremy opened his mouth, closed it, then sighed again. “Alright,” he murmured.

“I wanna go home,” Gregory decided listlessly and flashed him a weak smile, “Thanks for the help with my report, Mr. Fitzgerald. See you again soon?”

“Sure, it was no trouble. You’re always welcome to stop by,” Jeremy told him reassuringly and looked up at Router, “And there’s no need to make me any baked goods, even for a bribe.”

“If I did make you anything, I’d have poisoned it first,” Router huffed, folding his arms over his chest. Jeremy smiled thinly back at him, lifting his left hand to show a faint green ‘7’ appearing on the back.

“Would have been neutralized before it did anything to me, but it’s cute you thought to try your dad’s M.O.,” he replied in saccharine tones.

“I said, stop,” Gregory ordered, glaring up at both of them, and Jeremy froze, shoulders hunching up, like he was back on his first week at Freddy’s and Mike had called him ‘Probie’ in that same tone that meant he was getting close to the man’s limit on patience. Router winced, one hand dropping to his arm to grip it tightly near the inner elbow. “Cassie said once that if you can’t be civil, then just shut the fuck up.” He blinked, then squinted one eye in consideration, “Well, okay, she didn’t say it exactly like that but it’s like that.” He started pushing at Router’s back, “Come on! Let’s go! Being pissed off at you two makes me hungry and I wanna know what Vanessa and Sydney brought back for dinner!”

Router shot Jeremy a glare over his shoulder as they headed out the door and Jeremy just threw his middle finger up at him, his face blank of any other expression.

He held the pose until both of them were gone and then allowed himself to let out a long exhale in relief. That was so much stress crammed into a short amount of time. He’d almost prefer another night at Freddy’s in comparison. At least then he could just put on a mask and avoid most encounters. After that whole mess with Router, he half-wished he could just drink the memory away but Mike had cut back heavily on drinking when Doll got pregnant and kept mostly dry from then on so there wasn’t any alcohol within easy reach.

The bell jingled again and Jeremy groaned, facepalming as he hoped it was just a regular customer or something.

“Hey, old man.. eh, what’s with that face?” Damien asked warily as he set down a plastic bag with some takeout cartons inside and Jeremy pulled his hand away to blink at him in surprise.

“Damien? You’re at home by this time, what’s up?” he returned in a confused tone.

“Steph dragged Ven and Meera off to some nightclub to scope it out for fashion ideas, so I caught a bus over since I know you like to work late on the weekend and you tend to forget to feed yourself,” Damien pointed out, unpacking the cartons before pausing with a frown, lifting his right hand to look at the back of it. “Weird, reacting again.”

“Probably because I used some of Seven’s power earlier,” Jeremy sighed, heading over to the door to lock it and flip the sign to ‘Closed’, “Router came by to pick up Gregory and it went about as expected between us.” He took the wooden chopsticks Damien held out to him and sat at the table, nudging aside a small endoskeleton arm to make room for a carton of fried rice.

“Which old man did you inherit that anger issue from, Jonathan or Mike?” the younger man quipped as he peeled the lid off his ramen. He slurped up some noodles with a happy hum before blinking. “Wait, was this in front of the kid? Dude, not cool,” he added with a disapproving scowl, “I chewed out my soul for being a shit father to you, now I gotta chew you out for being a crap role model?”

“I didn’t mean to scare Gregory!” Jeremy protested over his carton of sesame chicken, “Router just brings out the worst in me, and apparently I bring out the worst in him too. Both of us already knew it would be bad to meet and actually interact, but Gregory forced both our hands!”

Damien gave him an ugly look, sneering over his cup of ramen, “Damn, that’s cold. Blaming the kid for both of you having issues that blew up in front of him when you coulda dealt with it way before Gregory even entered the picture. You sure as hell didn’t learn that from Jonathan or Mike.” Jeremy groaned and planted his face in his palm again. “Ah ah, don’t hide from this.” Damien poked at the top of his head with the other end of his chopsticks, tapping his skull just hard enough to get his message across.

They resumed eating together in silence, companionable and comfortable, while waiting for him to pull himself together enough to give an account of what happened. Damien had a good sense of humor but he also had a strong sense of justice and a deep dislike for poor parenting. As many issues as Jeremy had had with his father along with complicated feelings towards the man, he felt just as bad for Damien’s initial turmoil, anger, and hatred that had directed inward at himself because of his father’s soul. Vincent helped a lot with sorting out a lot of their family and reincarnation issues, but something Jeremy didn’t allow him to help with was his issues with Router.

Mainly because he’d never thought he’d see the guy ever again.

“Talking to Gregory brought back some good memories of Papa and Mike,” Jeremy began after a good amount of their dinner was eaten. “It was nice to talk about them, the few good memories I had of Papa, and all the stuff Dad did for and with me.” His mouth thinned, his expression souring. “Then Router showed up and brought up a lot of bad memories.”

“Reconsidered talking with Vincent about it?” Damien asked around an egg roll in his mouth, his words slurred from the food. Jeremy frowned.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” he scolded before grimacing, “Wait.. no.. don’t...”

“You’re not my dad,” Damien quipped with a wide smile and gleeful eyes, cackling at his groan as he held the egg roll between his fingers, “How do you keep falling for my dad joke bait? You had two of them!”

“You take way too much enjoyment out of that,” Jeremy told him irritably before returning to his chicken, “And after Gregory’s reaction, I think I should get some help with what I remember of that night. He said Router was trying to be a better person, but my mind won’t let go of the things he said and did that night.”

“Memories can be a pain,” Damien agreed somberly, “but at least we have them. Still, sometimes I’m a little jealous of Gregory, Vanessa, and Sydney. Memories can be heavy; is it lighter to not have them?”

“Memories can keep hurting us years after they’re formed,” Jeremy muttered, poking at his food, “Would it be easier to have them taken away?”

The silence was heavier as they reflected on their words. Eventually, Damien raised his eyes to the older man, sadness that he shared with the soul inside shining through. “Would losing memories of the people we love be worth giving up the painful ones?” he wondered aloud. Jeremy tilted his head, thinking of the shining gold of his Papa before he fell to shadows and inflicted hurt, of the rough friendship with Mike that hardened into strong and stable familial bonds, lasting through the pain and grief and horrors of the night shifts.

“No, I suppose it isn’t,” he finally said quietly, “And I feel so sorry for Router and Sydney now. I can’t imagine how painful it must be.. to face your best friend’s reincarnation and realize they’ve lost their memories of you and your life together.”

It must be.. true agony.

[joleneghoul]

BIG TW FOR MENTIONS OF ABUSE AND MEDICAL NEGLECT⚠️

Anyways im awake now. Medical neglect is when someone under the care of a caregiver has their health needs ignored.

Typically, we see this with children, but it can also happen with the disabled who rely on others for support and elders. I will be talking mostly abt the neglect of children here, but know it can apply to others as well depending on the situation.

But MOST IMPORTANTLY, this is done by people with a responsibility to care for the victim.

Some examples of this are:

A parent telling their child they are being dramatic or telling them they are lying when they claim they're sick.

A caregiver telling the person under their care they are "over acting" their condition.

A child breaks a bone, and the parent does not believe it's broken. (Way more common than it should be)

A caregiver/parent refusing to give the person/child under their care the medication they need/that is perscribed.

This is specific, but a parent/caregiver telling someone that extreme unbearable pain during a period is "normal" and refusing to let the person be checked by a doctor.

A caregiver not believing in symptoms like fainting, lightheadedness, migraines, or any sort of invisible symptoms because they did not see it or were not around to see it.

A caregiver leaving a mobility aid out of reach from the person/child who needs it.

Refusing to let your child see a therapist or mental health professional after trauma.

Basically, denying the medical needs of someone under your care for any reason if that person relies on you for thst care.

This is one of the MOST common forms of abuse, yet people will not realize that either what they do is wrong or what they've gone through was not fair to them.

I saw a tiktok the other day that was meant to be "funny" about a parent saying their child lied about their foot being broken but finally took her to the dr to prove the child wrong. The childs foot was broken. How is this at all comical? Why are these things so normalized?

There are so many people, myself included who have had that exact experience.

And this is a trauma that can stick with people their whole lives. Ignoring medical problems can RUIN someone's body, and these problems follow you into adulthood. And then these people as (often disabled) adults are thrust into medical systems that are founded on ableism/mistreatment of the disabled.

If you are a victim of this, i highly recommend therapy if at all possible. There are a lot of options for therapy you can do from home nowadays. It is really helpful to talk out these feelings with a professional, even if you've never spoken to one before.

You deserve help. You are not dramatic for seeking it.

Anyways, sorry for the rant. If you have something to add about this not being true, dont bother, I will block you.

[christian-oc-tournament]

Billie propaganda!

Brave fierce woman. She'll face down two SUVs full of gangsters with a shotgun over her arm to protect her children, marry the man who's taking care of her children the better to take care of her children, realize she actually wants to be married to him properly, give up drugs for the sake of her children, read the Bible for the sake of her children... oh, and she'll help rescue domestic abuse victims:

(Although there is a language warning on it)

Riser sneers. "Pathetic loser. Only a weak man pushes around women and children," he says disgustedly. Billie says, “I know her. Hang on…” and starts down the aisle after where they’ve disappeared to. Riser promptly follows, staying a few feet behind. The family has stopped by the cheese case. The woman is once again holding the baby as she inspects the options, the man leaning on the buggy handle snickering at something on his phone. “Lily! Hey!” Billie catches them up with a few long-legged strides. “Didn’t recognize you at first with the crap all over you. How you been? Your little guy is sure a cutie.” Billie reaches across to squeeze his shoe. He shrinks and draws his foot away, eyeing her warily. Lily casts a nervous glance back at the gangbanger, who has looked up with a dark scowl. "We've been okay," she mutters, eyes sliding away from Billie's. "It's good to see you but we're in a rush today. I'll call you soon." She smiles at the baby as she doesn’t often, her teeth white and broad and straight, and says to Lily, letting her hand fall, “Lost my phone. You living at home?” "No," Lily mumbles. "My parents... no, I've been... living with Dallas." Billie darts him a look. “Okay. Good to see you, Lil. We’re just home now. Come on by sometime if you’re ever bored.” Lily hunches and turns back to the cheese. "Yeah, thanks. Maybe I will," she mutters. Billie’s eyes roam between them as she turns back to Riser. She says when they’re out of earshot, “I don’t think I like that one bit.” ...

At the checkout Billie tries to nudge Riser away from the card reader. “You don’t have to pay for everything, you know.” Riser refuses to be budged. "Sure I do," he says cheerfully, pulling out his wallet, "that's why I'm here." A slap rings out across the checkout area, followed by a baby's sharp cry and a woman's shrill voice. "Are you SERIOUS!" “That is not why you’re here! That’s the most ridiculous—“ She turns rather abruptly to look across the checkout at the sudden commotion. Riser turns on his heel, hand going for his pocket. Across the way, Dallas, furious and snarling something nasty, manhandles the wailing toddler into the buggy as Lily lunges at his arm. Cries of shock erupt around the corral as Dallas flings the woman over his shoulder and she starts screaming in panic. "Help! Somebody help me!" Billie starts toward them. A blur of black leather and pale hair passes her and Riser is standing three inches in front of the man and his struggling captive. "Might want to put her down, buddy," he says pleasantly. Dallas snarls and his free hand goes for his pocket and Riser's fists flash like lightning. He catches Lily, sobbing in terror, as Dallas falls back on the floor clutching nose and chin. Lily wriggles free and snatches up her child, clutching him close to her chest and putting the buggy between herself and the men. Across the way, a yellow-vested manager is muttering rapidly to a police dispatcher on the phone. Billie sidles wide and rounds the cart and gets her arm around Lily’s shoulders, ignoring her flinch. “Let’s go, Lil. We’re going. We’re leaving, right now. Nikki…” Nikki’s already beside her. Billie starts to chivvy Lily toward the door, keeping her arm firm around her shoulders. “Keys?” Billie calls, and snags them neatly when Riser holds them out at arm's length as they pass, not taking his eyes off of Dallas, who is slowly rising to his feet. "If you think you're leaving with them, you little *****-" he starts, only to cut off with a mouthful of fist. "I'll be out in a minute," Riser says pleasantly to the womenfolk. "Just gotta do mop-up first." Billie has Lily, Nikki, and the baby in the truck when Riser comes out, and she’s leaning against the front bumper in her coat, eyes watchful across the parking lot.

.

[hjellacott]

No one is "killing" trans children by saying anything (and have some free tips to improve your mental health).

Let me explain.

If someone has mental health issues, such as depression, if someone is self-harming, if someone is feeling hurt, having panic attacks, having tantrums and crying their eyes out, because people online are saying rough things, the problem is they need therapy. They need mental health help.

We're living in a time of massive mental health crises, so people, specially kids, have never been more vulnerable. And I'm not saying it's OK for people to be bullies, it's not, it's absolutely disgraceful we still have that problem, but listen, the world is always going to have bullies. We can't stop people from having moments of being very rough and harsh with you. Sometimes, one had a bad day, sometimes, one is just very nasty.

Before, what we'd do was protect people who didn't have the maturity and emotional/mental strength to face the harsh world by not letting them out into the world until they were older. Now, with kids as young as 10 having phones with internet, of fucking course there's a rise of depression and self harm in children. Because the real world can be very painful and hard, the Internet can be a very dangerous and scary place, and we're letting kids with no maturity and mental / emotional strength into it. And they're being DESTROYED by lack of likes and RTs, nasty comments online, and so on.

Those kids shouldn't be online. In fact, no one who gets so upset at the slightest verbal harassment, insults or nasty comments should be online. Just like no one who has violence issues should have a gun.

Abusing others, even if verbally, isn't okay, and we should always try to be nice, but when you're a grown-up, you can't always be nice. I mean, we're facing unemployment, getting murdered, getting raped, losing our homes, having environmental crises... Of course we're going to fucking snap, and what better place than the internet to do it? So even though I'd love it if the internet was a cordial, polite, friendly place, the reality is that's never going to happen, so you shouldn't go in if you're not mentally strong to face that and not kill yourself.

You can't blame others for your own actions. Ever.

And for context. I suffered bullying too. I mean, who didn't? And I know bullying can truly make you feel like killing yourself, but until they finally expel bullies from school, your only weapon is having such a strong mental and emotional health that they can no longer get to you. So your first tool is always working in yourself. Do therapy, get a mental health that's strong. Learn not to give a fuck about what people say. Because yes it's sad, but the world will always be rough, and your best defence is becoming such a soldier they CAN'T harm you.

So when people say "this celebrity is killing trans children!" I always get my red flags up. I'm not saying it's OK for anyone to say hurtful things ever (as I've just been explaining), but you have to focus (as it's the mantra in psychology) on things you can actually control and do something about, and that's yourself. The only people killing trans children are those going and actually pulling the trigger. I know people are going online and saying "kill yourself" and doing threats and harassment... hell, I have those day and night FROM the trans collectives. But words don't kill. Words can be tremendously hurtful, painful, triggering. Words CAN make you want to die. But they cannot kill.

In the end, it's up to you. It's your responsibility. We left the whining about "Mum! X has done Y to me! do something!" in childhood. When you're an adult, you have no fucking choice but growing up and really working on yourself. You have to reach a point where the horrible things people say don't affect you. You have to learn to ignore them, to pass, and eventually, to fight back with politics, with activism, with social action. But killing yourself? If you hurt yourself because people say mean things, even horrible stuff, what you need is A LOT of therapy. Becuse the only person responsible for you, your health and what happens to you IS YOU. Avoiding responsiblity like Prince Harry will get you nowhere.

So actually, it's not people saying bad stuff that kills trans youth. Is the tremendous lack of mental health in trans youth and the difficulties to access mental health services that is killing trans youth. Of course what people say and do can worsen your mental health, but in the end, those actions and words only affect you if you're vulnerable. And placing the blame in wrong places only means the mental health issues and their true causes get ignored and are not treated properly.

When your mental health is good, when you've learnt positive and healthy coping mechanisms, when your therapist rocks, when you know how to take care of yourself when you feel like shit, when the world is becoming too much to handle, then nothing others say can bring you down permanently. Then you have tools to look after yourself and give two shits about what anybody has to say about you. That's why it's important to always work on your mental health and to advocate for easy access to quality mental health services. You don't just have to be physically fit. Your brain and your heart have to be strong AF.

SOME THINGS YOU CAN DO FOR FREE TO IMPROVE YOUR MENTAL AND EMOTIONAL HEALTH:

Do at least five minutes of physical exercise (any kind) EVERY DAY.

Take good care of your diet, avoiding fast food and caffeine, which has been linked with higher rates of anxiety and stress. Instead, eat lots of veg and fruit.

Keep to a routine. Studies show that the brain loves routines, and this will help you sleep better, be better rested, and perform better during the day.

Do breathing exercises. Deep breathing exercises have been proven to be good against anxiety, depression, and panic disorders.

Develop emotional intelligence. This can be done with the help of therapy and with friends.

Every day spend at least half an hour out of the house, spending relaxing, leisure time outside UNDER THE SUN. The sunlight is incredibly good for you, amongst other benefits is vitamin D, and lack of sunlight exposition has been linked to higher rates of depression.

Don't keep your phone / tablet / laptop close when you sleep.

Avoid all screens 2h before bed.

Read lots of paper books (or e-books). Doesn't matter the kind, but keep the topics diverse. This will keep your brain excited about things, keep things fresh and new, and will benefit your brain like meditation.

Do actual meditation. It can look like anything. It can be yoga positions, it can be jogging with music on... Meditation is anything where you're mentally focused on, in the words of my therapist, letting thoughts go. You're supposed to see them like clouds passing by, without focusing on them, without becoming worked-up and anxious.

Talk to other people, face to face, at least half an hour a day.

When feeling overwhelmed by emails, texts, social media, and so on, take technology breaks. A lot of people have found their mental health drastically improves after ignoring their phones for say, a weekend.

[booksandchainmail]

Pale 8.4

"Jess had an escape route ready, but it was close."

I like that Zed nicknames people, I think he's the only person we've seen not use a full first name on Jessica and Nicolette

My advice was that you might want to focus on those who would actually take the time and make the effort, ignoring everyone who might be powerful and upset, but ultimately irrelevant once they go home

so the Tedds have been brought up for this, I'm concerned about Fernanda. Not sure who else? Maybe the Hennigars, they seem prone to violent solutions and might have an additional grudge for having Alpeana go after Mccauleigh. I don't think we know enough about the personalities of most junior students to speculate. Concerned about Chase and Tanner (and Wye) though.

for now, part of what I’m passing on is a recommendation: steer clear of the Tedds, and stay away from the Belangers.

right, forgot the Belangers were brought up last chapter for this

“So those things bundled together are numero uno.  Number two?  Can you throw a cold drink at Verona on Avery’s behalf?”

yeah she deserves that

“Just wanted to say I miss having you around and stuff.  Glad you’re doing this, hope it’s doing what you need it to, but I’ll be glad when you’re back.”

awww. And this is exactly the kind of reassurance I was hoping Avery would get. That talk Lucy had with her therapist did wonders

“Is this a Talia type of situation?” Verona asked.  “Scary mom?” “Very scary, but not at all like Talia’s.”

yeah, giving a pre-teen easy access to explosions seems more like poor judgement than abuse. It's something that he can control, and doesn't seem to be an active danger or something that comes with cruel stipulations

“Ohhh, she’s close to Durocher,” Verona commented.  “Cheeky-kissy close.”

... I mean, Durocher is probably french-canadian, so that might not mean much (do french canadians do cheek kisses as much as french europeans do?)

“Nooo,” Sol groaned out the word.

I'm reminded of the horrible teens from Gideon the Ninth

and, of course, most challenging of all, I’m a mom.

why would you ever say this in front of classroom containing your son.

“This is the first year I get to teach a class with my son attending.  Sol!?  Where are you?  Looking through the benches, Sol?  Sol!  Solarisse Blaze Ferguson, I hope you’re in this class!”

oh no. That name. I was assuming Sol was short for Solomon or something. No wonder he only lists the nickname on the student directory.

“I…” Mrs. Ferguson said, touching the edge of her palm to a partial diagram on her arm- A violent blast of wind scattered papers all across the room, made students lose their pens and pencils, and made pages flip in books and notebooks that sat open throughout the retrofitted church. “Love…” she touched another portion of her arm. A geyser of flame shot through the middle of the room, over the heads of students who were already ducking low. “Elemental practice!” The third point of contact produced a spray of water. Droplets reached Lucy, moisture dotting the page she had just opened.

nevermind she's great

“Then if you don’t know, it’s your own fault.  Figure it out, now.  It’s dying, by the way.” Sol’s posture was rigid as he read through the page, turned it over, and read the list on the back.

yeah, this is a nightmare. We've seen some other teachers use their children/apprentices as class assistants, or even things that seemed more like tests for the assistant as well as the class. But putting him up in front of everyone else, with no distractions, and quizzing and criticizing him like this... no wonder he didn't want to go to class

“I’d like to get to know my son’s schoolmates and friends.  I’ve heard your name, I’d like your help for the demonstration, if you please.” “We’ve never really talked, but I’ll help out,” Raquel said

ouch

"The human body. You are a very pretty young lady, Raquel. You seem to be in good health, fit." “If you’d face my son?  Sol, stand here?” “Describe her,” his mother said. “As detailed as possible, now."

this is actively worse than when one of my middle school teachers made us feel each others heartbeats

Raymond: You found him? Wye:  No.  It bothers me I can’t.

ok, seems like they're suspicious but don't know for sure. I'm hoping they won't figure it out until the Kennet Trio are safely home. Though I guess if it gets figured out soon, the girls have the protection of being students

Wye: No.  This wasn’t him.  The car interior was torched, I found his wallet and phone in the muck.  His wand, too. Raymond: You think he’s dead?

well. I guess I will find out how it goes! I wonder if they're going to be immediately suspicious of the girls? I feel like it's logical to look at people involved in the conflict at the school first, but maybe they'll feel its implausible power-wise and think some other enemy of hi seized the opportunity? For motives, the Kennet Trio had openly opposed him, but also were even more anti-Bristow. And having got rid of one headmaster right beforehand does not make them look innocent. Other people with motivation... some of the Aware, Nicolette, teachers who sided with Bristow

“They think Alexander might be dead,” Lucy whispered to Verona, picking her words very carefully.

I hope Verona (or Avery) don't start trying to solve this murder, maybe in an attempt to prove their innocence

Fernanda hadn’t really taken a side in the whole back-and-forth thing, and she’d settled in the middle when they’d made their final play against Bristow. To go from that, to being this unhappy?

Given that the major factor holding up her family was Chase's apprenticeship, I'd imagine that losing both potential sponsors comes as a blow. Probably an element in how other students are treating them as well: the Kennet Trio wiped out two useful patrons and showed themselves as uninterested in standard, low-grade social climbing

Students who’d been for Alexander who looked like they’d had something important ripped from them. She hadn’t realized how much they cared.

even leaving aside pragmatic concerns, he's been some of their teacher for four years

Nicolette is the person who knows the most that the Kennet Trio had a motive, but I think her oaths might prevent her from revealing it? Though there were other members of the circle there for the negotiation as well (Chase and Wye)

[clown-gore]

Slasher OC:

Gracie “Gigi” Cole

Age: early 20s

Height: 165cm

Nationality: American

Occupation: Tattoo Artist

Spoken languages: English, French

Personality traits: friendly, child-like at times, cunning, fast learner, hard working

Looks:

middle-length black hair (dyed), tired dark eyes, pale skin, full lips

eight piercings in total; four in her right ear, three in her left ear and a septum piercing

Main Tattoos: Fairy wings on her upper back, a spider webs on each shoulder and angels on her right underbreast.

likes to wear pretty sexy clothes even if she’s not going anywhere because “I bought it so I might as well wear it”. On lazy days sticks to baggy, oversized and homie clothes. Everything she wears is either dark shades or bright colored and glittery, there’s no in between.

Powers/Skills:

Lock Picking

Pickpocketing and thefts

Hand-to-hand combat

Observation

Knife usage

Killing motive: self defence and general revenge. Gigi holds grudges to those who wronged, if said person crossed the line, she goes for the kill switch and that happens more often than not

Killing method: usually uses and pocketknife she has at her person at all time, but would reach to whatever present if the situation required. Makes it quick and simple.

Bio:

Gracie was born to be the only child and lived normally with her parents for the first seven years of her life until everything started going south when her father left her and her mother without any warning whatsoever. Her relationship with her parents wasn’t strong to begin with so the absence of her father didn’t affect her that much, the only problem was her mother and her mothers new boyfriend.

The household was a toxic place. Abusive step-father and an ignorant mother. In such place, Gracie learnt to take care of herself. She knew where her mother hides cash, learnt to cook some minor dishes and found small hobbies to occupy herself, her parents were absent most of the day leaving Gracie to her lonesome self and absence of a parental figure naturally resulted in negative outcomes.

Gracies mother used to lock her in her room for hours if she was mad at her and after finding the right tools, Gracie learnt to open the door by herself. One of her favourite tools being a pocketknife she shoplifted once.

Day after day of abuse and toxic behaviour being thrown at a little girl, Gracie snapped and stabbed her stepdad to death in his sleep. Her mother called the authorities and the little girl was taken to a Juvenile Detention Center where thing’s weren’t butterflies and rainbows. Gracie had a lot of fights there and they weren’t by choice it’s just that they didn’t like her much. As a result, she learnt to defend herself by herself.

Gracie was released when she turned 16 and was taken to a foster home after nobody was able to contact her mother or any of her relatives to take her in.

Gracie stayed in the foster home with several other children and caretakers, one of them being Carol Corbin. Carol was a French-American woman and she was the only one who was, in one way or another, a parental figure for Gracie. She help her catch up to her school work and gave her private lessons and she even taught her french in her free time. Gracie stayed in that home until she moved out, with the help of Carol, by the age of 18.

Despite Carols help, and Gracies new life, there was still this something inside of her that always craved the thrill of spilling blood whenever needed.

[monstergoblin]

The Owl Pirates Chapter Six

First Chapter Tumblr Link HERE Previous Chapter Tumblr Link HERE Posted First On A03 Here  I t’ll be updated on A03 first and might take me a bit to get to updating it here as I always seem to forget about my tumblr. <3

 Trigger Warnings Always Read Safe: Depression, Suicidal thoughts, Pushing down feelings, Overworking self to ignore feelings, Child Abuse (Belos is a bitch okay), Gaslighting, Self Gaslighting, Manipulation, Injuries

Notes: I just want to say chapters wont always be updated so quickly. I just have a lot of free time rn and am a bored goblin obsessed with pirates.

Chapter 6: The Beginning of Friendship

“Okay you can’t hate The Good Witch Azura without actually reading it.” Luz sighed taking the book from Hunter and returning it to her chest.

    If he was just going to complain about every option, why did he ask.

    “Even the summary sounds cheesy.” Hunter stated. “I’m not a child.”

    “The Good Witch Azura has plenty of heavier topics.” Luz informed. “Just because it was targeted for a younger audience doesn’t make it bad.” 

    Hunter let out a little annoyed huff, and Luz wanted to be happy he was actually having any sort of actual personality, but why did he have to be like that?

    “What are you wanting to read?” Luz sighed, turning to him. “Maybe that would help? Anything you’re looking for?”

    He shrugged.

    If Luz wasn’t a good person she’d slap him.

    “Fine, how about you pick one.” She gestured to her chest and moved so Hunter could bend down and look inside. 

    Of course the boy instantly reached for the their own writing her and Amity were creating putting themselves into The Good Witch Azura world.

    “Not that one.” Luz was fast to stop him.

    Hunter didn’t comment, just ignored the book and looked through the others. It took him a bit of picking up different books and reading the backs before he finally settled on one.

    “Rulers Reach?” Luz scoffed.

    “Better than The Good Witch.” Hunter stated. “I heard this one is popular.”

    “Okay.” Luz shrugged. She was not about to go on the spill of how King wrote that book, and how Eda had surprised him by publishing it on his birthday under the pen name Princely.  She hadn’t realized it was popular on the mainland, they only published it so King could see his book as a book. Most everyone on the ship had a copy now.

    Hunter then must've decided the conversation was over as he took the book and started heading out of the crew's quarters. 

    “Don’t I get a thank you?” Luz shouted after him.

    Hunter turned back to her for a split second. “Thank you.” he said dully before leaving.

    At least he was showing interest in something. Even if rudely.

-----------------

    It was silly to want to read when he should be focusing on other things, but reading had always been his escape back home and he longed for it again. It wasn’t like he wasn’t watching as he did his chores, trying to spot a weakness in the crew. Just in those quiet moments when there wasn’t much to do Hunter would allow himself to read, instead of sitting aimlessly waiting.

    It was nice to have something to look forward to in a day.

    He was still paying attention to everything around him. Even when he was rushing his chores so he could possibly sit down for just a moment. He was watching. 

    He pretended he didn’t notice the eyes on him waiting for him to do something. He had grown accustomed to the eyes of people on him waiting for him to screw up. What difference was it if they were waiting for a betrayal. At least they weren’t stupid.

    It became a routine. Doing the chores Eda was trying to occupy his time with- He did notice he had more chores than the others- he didn’t really mind. Always watching as the children who babysat him talked or tried to have him interact with others. Keeping track of every member of the crew while the day goes by. Trying to figure out how to exploit their weakness and somehow capture at least just Eda and Lilth. Then at the end of the day he would allow himself time to read.

    It was perfectly healthy. 

    He could probably trick any of the children into doing what he wanted. They were kids after all. Alador seemed easy to convince when he was working on something else- he saw Amity do it. Perry was more of a thinker than a threat, but if Gus was on board he’d probably be on board as Perry seemed to care a great deal about the boy. Harvey was more strict on making sure Hunter wasn’t getting in trouble but his husband Gilbert cooled him down easily. Steve was easy going even if he did stare a bit to long at Hunter for his liking.

    The problem being was the ‘authority’ on this ship. Eda was a wildcard, hard to predict and made strange decisions. She always had her eye on Hunter from across the ship and when Hunter looked towards her she’d make some stupid face or wink at him. 

    Camila was the first mate. She was- weird. She acted so sweet to everyone making sure they were getting things done but also taking time for themselves. She had expressed interest at Hunter reading. Also apparently Amity told her of his attempt at borrowing beforehand. She had defended herself with a “you told me not to tell Eda.” So he still technically owed the purple girl a favor.

    Lilith was always holding her head high around Hunter. Like any time he’d seen her back in the navy. The judgemental scoffs, stares at bad decisions, and always watching him. It was annoying. The only thing that got her attention away was the cursed bird Hooty. 

    Those three would be his real challenge in pulling anything off. They needed to trust him first, and in order for that to happen he had to exploit their weakness- Luz.

    All three loved the loud girl very much and if he could have Luz thinking he was trustworthy. Perhaps they’d soften up. If they did, the rest of the crew would follow. Then it was a matter of figuring out the next step.

    Hunter had learned an effective method on getting his chores done faster and earned himself time to sit. His current babysitter was Gus, who liked to give Hunter space and was talking to Willow across the deck. Gus was probably his favorite babysitter he got assigned. Matt was annoying, Luz was loud, Amity was too bossy, Willow always helped, Edric tried to get Hunter to answer meaningless questions and Emira tried to convince him to pull pranks. 

    Gus gave him space, so Hunter could actually enjoy his breaks.

    He was using this one to observe Luz, trying to come up with a plan. She was being chased around by the little creature King who was screaming about Luz needing to pay for her crimes. Luz was laughing and easily dodging the poor attempts at attacks. 

    Kings hood fell off in the chaos of chasing the older girl. underneath was a mess of black hair and finned ears. Hunter hadn’t realized before but now with the sun reflecting off of him, he could make out Kings skin wasn’t skin, but scales, that started a human tone and slowly gradient to black and white.

    Hunter read about mermaids and sirens being able to almost mock human forms.

    They were bad luck to find. Why would a pirate ship choose to keep one?

    “I demand a formal apology!” King shouted as he chased the girl around, he didn’t seem to mind his hood was off now.

    “You’ve got to catch me first!” Luz chuckled, leaping up on a barrel easily to escape the child's attempt at a bullrush.

    “Francois defend your ruler!” King threw the little octopus doll at Luz but missed by a good few feet and the little doll landed with a squeak. 

    “Oh!” Luz leapt over to the doll and swiped it up. “Looks like I’ve captured your soldier. What you gonna do about it.”

    “Francois no!” King pushed himself back up to his feet and tried to reach the doll from Luz’s much taller grasp.

    It was ridiculous but Hunter couldn’t help the smirk as Luz threw the doll up into the air and King pushed her down so he could catch it before her.

    “It’s okay Francois.” He comforted the doll before shoving it in Luz’s face “Get your revenge!”

    Luz was cackling as she tried to stop the doll.

    “You can join them if you want.”  Eda appearing beside him made Hunter jump. He clutched his chest trying to calm his heart. Eda chuckled at him. “They are always down for more playmates.”

    “I don’t play games.” Hunter stated tensing as he could feel Eda’s judgement.

    “There’s no harm in it.” Eda shrugged. “Unless you want more chores?” She offered.

    “Nope, I’m fine.” Hunter stood and started walking to the two children. He already was struggling finding time to think with the amount of chores he had already.

    He could feel Edas smirk as he approached the creature sitting on Luz hitting her with his doll.

    “Hunter?” Luz stopped now holding Kings arm from hitting her- proving she could’ve done it at any point.

    “It’s the angsty blond kid.” King piped in looking up at Hunter, not paying any mind to the fact Luz proved she could stop him.

    “Who calls me that?” Hunter hadn’t meant to snap.

    “Hooty.” King and Luz said at the same time.

    Whatever it didn’t matter .

    “Do you need something?” Luz asked.

    “Eda wants me to hang out with you.” Hunter crossed his arms. Though he wondered if Eda was even still watching or if he could’ve opted out of this. It worked with building trust anyway.

    “Isn’t Gus watching you?” Luz pushed King off of her and King sat next to her on the deck.

    Hunter shrugged. “Yeah, He’s talking to Willow.” He motioned his head the direction of the two.

    “Are you gonna play with us?” King asked with big eyes.

    He didn’t play games.

    But if it meant building trust.

    He shrugged.

    Luz grinned. That was probably a good thing?

    “Yay!” King jumped up to his feet. “This is Francois.” He introduce the octopus doll to Hunter. “If you want Francois not to kill you. You’ll bow to your king!” King did a little pose to try to be scary.

    Hunter was not going to bow to this child. 

    “Francois attack!” King threw the doll Hunter but Hunter caught it.

    “Maybe this game isn’t right for Hunter.” Luz reasoned with King.

    “Who wouldn’t enjoy bowing to me?” King pouted crossing his arms. “Okay, fine. What do we play instead?”

    Luz looked to Hunter as if to silently ask ‘what do you want to do?’

    Hunter didn’t know, He never had time for such silly things as games . He shrugged.

    “A game for a navy boy?” King pondered aloud. “A game for a navy boy. I know!” He waved his finger in the air. “Let’s reenact the story book! The chapter where the girl finds the crazy witch.” 

    “I don’t think Hunter’s read it.” Luz sighed at the childs idea.

    “It’s fine! We’ll tell him how to act. Make him be that little demon dog thing the witch had.” King insisted. “I’ll be the evil witch and Luz can be the human girl!”

    “What is he talking about?” Hunter scoffed.

    “It’s this book Edas been reading to him.” Luz explained. “Just go along with it.”

    Which is how Hunter ended up following King around as he pretended to be an evil witch. Cackling at random things, mixing ‘potions’ and selling things of no value for a high price. Hunter mostly just observed Luz and King play the game as they said lines of dialogue from said book, he only responded when they told him what he was supposed to say. It was mostly little roars that Hunter put no energy behind.

    It was strange.

    It wasn’t until they ‘finished the chapter’ that the two were done. King decided he was done playing and gave Luz a hug before leaving to the captains quarters.

    “That was really cool of you.” Luz leaned against the rails with Hunter.

    He just made a fool of himself. How was that cool?

    “I know you were bored the whole time.” Luz continued. “It was a nice thing to do.” 

    He did something right.

    “I didn’t mind.” Hunter lied. He was insanely annoyed by the child's demanding ways but in the end it seemed to have been worth it.

    “You so did.” Luz gave a little punch to Hunters arm.

    Why did she punch him? It didn’t hurt but still? He thought he done good?

    “Woah.” Luz put her hand in the air in defense. “It wasn’t an attack, don't look at me like that.”

    “You punched me?” Hunter questioned holding the spot she had. 

    “It was a friendly punch.” Luz explained. “Sorry I didn’t mean to insult you.”

    Oh. Who does that?

    Hunter didn’t respond. He shouldn’t have jumped to defense so quickly, that wasn’t how one earned trust.

    “Are you enjoying Rulers Reach?” Luz changed the topic after a few moments of silence.

    Right, the book. That was something to talk about.

    “Yeah.” Hunter did not lie. He was enjoying it. “There’s a lot of violence but it's an interesting read. I like how Princely describes the world.”

    “Complex.” Luz repeated as if she didn't agree- which she'd be wrong not to. “How far did you get?”

    “Luzara just killed that evil mayor. '' Hunter shrugged. “I can’t remember the mayor's name but he was an asshole. Hiding all the stuff from everyone. I was so happy he died.” He bit his lip to fight the urge to ramble about everything he’s read already. He needed this girl to like him and not be annoyed at him.

    “Well I won’t spoil anything.” Luz smiled. “Just treat my book good.”

    “I am.” Hunter assured. 

    “If there’s any new tears in it I’ll know.” Luz teased with a little glare.

    Luz’s weakness was that she trusted too easily. She was so kind to him when she didn’t know him. She was naive.

    Which was great for Hunter.

-------------

    It was a week now that Hunter had joined the crew. He still was stand-off-ish and only talked when spoken to, except on special occasions. Gus had been surprised to see the boy playing with King and Luz. It clearly wasn’t his taste so Gus had to assume someone- probably Eda- had pushed him to do it. 

    Gus also noticed that the boy had started reading. Luz had lended him her copy of Rulers Reach and when Gus asked about it to Hunter the boy seemed to be thoroughly enjoying it as he ended up rambling about this part he was on before cutting himself off. 

    Hunter was nervous to be himself.

     or

    Perhaps Hunter didn't allow himself to be himself.

    Gus could recognize it. He himself used to have the nervousness of fitting in back home. No one liked the boy who had “visions.” He’d gotten used to the behavior of others and overtime met Willow. Willow who needed him as much as he needed her. Until they got caught up with Luz- the pirate.

    Luz had a way of breaking into people's hearts. It was only a matter of time before Hunter was attached. He already seemed to be on track of calling her a friend. Even if the ex-navy denied it.

    Hunter seemed to still be one of the main conversations of the crew. As Bump’s island grew nearer they were curious what the boy was going to do. Luz was worried he’d leave, but some were worried he’d stay.

    Gus had a feeling the boy was going to stay. 

Luz was up in the crows nest calling the ships and which side they were on as they approached Bumps island. They had no worry of coming up on a fight around here as this was neutral area. Everyone knew better than to fight in Bump’s zone. He was a powerful ex-captain to make upset. 

    As they pulled into port Gus could make out the busy docks. It seemed everyone was stopping here right now. 

    “Alright kids.” Eda called from the top story of the deck looking down at the kids who always seemed to gather as they anchored. “You know the deal, everyone grabs a partner. Don’t get into trouble you can’t get out of, and don’t let no measly merchant scam you but always feel free to scam them” She waved. “We’ll be in port for at least three days unless Alador deems we need more time for repairs.”

    Gus could see Hunter talking to Luz already planning to partner with her. 

    No that wouldn't do. 

    “Hey Amity.” Gus gave a little pat to Amitys shoulder. “Doesn’t Hunter owe you a favor?” He motioned his head to Luz. 

    He could see the gears in Amitys head turning. “Yes, How do you know about that? Oh nevermind Hunter!” She went after Hunter so she could trade partners. 

    Edric and Emira were already paired up which just left.

    “What’s taking so long?” Matt demand. They always ended up pairing up. Matt was a hard person for most to get along with.

    “I am actually supposed to be with Hunter.” Gus lied. “You can ask Willow?” He suggested walking away before the other boy could whine and complain about sticking Hunter with Willow.

    “Hey Hunter?” Gus smiled as he reached the blond boy. “Need a partner?”

     Gus had suspicions about the boy.

     And he was going to get answers.

7TH Chapter Tumblr Link