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thyandrawrites · 1 year

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On Nagi's emotional intelligence

One thing I find interesting about Nagi's character is that he's not only bad at getting across his emotions in a way that leaves little room for misunderstandings; he also struggles a lot to identify feelings (not just his but especially other people's) for what they are, and to put himself in other people's shoes.

Both the manga and Nagi's light novel offer several examples of this, and I noticed a common denominator in most of them. So I thought it could be fun to compile them in a post.

(long ramble under a cut! Contains slight manga spoilers up to manshine city arc)

Preface: I did not study psychology, and though I try my best not to misuse words and be insensitive, mistakes in good faith can happen. Please bear with me

So, what kicked off this whole thing is a scene from Episode Nagi. This one:

Now, without context it would be easy to write off Nagi as a self-centered genius who is looking down on team Z for being "weaker". And that's exactly how Isagi, who doesn't know Nagi prior to this, takes his questions. They're just a taunt, as if Nagi is mocking Team Z's determination to overturn the scores when they're a team that doesn't yet know its own skills fully.

And the thing is, regardless of Nagi's intentions, his words are condescending. He doesn't mean them to be, but you can't deny that calling someone stupid to his face is not conductive to a polite or constructive conversation, lol.

Unless you're Nagi Seishiro, that is.

Nagi... Doesn't seem to grasp that essentially calling team Z the bottom of the barrel while asking what keeps them going is... Well, rude. Patronizing, even. Which is why he looks so puzzled when Isagi's response is negative, and when he doubles down on his hunger for goals.

In his head, phrasing it this way was perfectly fine. He was genuinely asking, and he expected a response. He wanted to know, not to piss Isagi off and be left hanging.

The reason behind Nagi's obliviousness is of course a lack of social skills. We know he tends to keep to himself, preferring video games and the silent company of a cactus over social interactions, and it shows in how stilted his ability to properly communicate becomes over time.

But in the intro I said I don't think it's just a struggle with communicating what he means. I also interpret it as Nagi struggling to put himself in other people's shoes when their experiences don't mirror his, which complicates his attempts to communicate further.

What is translated as "What's his deal?" in the panel above in japanese has a bit more nuance than that, and it clues us in to what was likely going through Nagi's head a bit more.

"What's this creature (Isagi Yoichi)"

The kanji that compose Isagi's name are transcribed with a different reading (the furigana indeed reads "creature")

Now, if you read Nagi's light novel, the words might sound familiar:

(credits to @/ hoshi801_ on twitter for this translation)

That's because we have another example of Nagi being weirded out by and puzzled at how differently he and others seem to function.

From Nagi's perspective, he's not the weirdo, others are! He keeps observing this world where everyone puts effort into things that he only sees as a hassle, and he doesn't get how anyone can find any appeal in them. In other words, Nagi doesn't really understand how other people work (how they think, how they feel, what motivates them), and he tends to use himself as a metric for understanding them better, not realizing how flawed that approach is.

I also reckon this is why he can sometimes come across as lacking tact.

"it's easy for me. How come is it not easy for you?"

What he says to Bachira during the 4v4 seems like another prime example of Nagi attempting to figure out others by comparing them against himself.

In his intentions, this little speech serves as a way to get Bachira to step up his game. After all, had he really been fine with not picking him, he could've kept his mouth shut, won the match, and picked Rin as he said he would. No need to warn Bachira beforehand, giving him a chance to prove himself in the field and compete with Rin as the best choice moving forward.

But the words Nagi uses are familiar once again.

"Do you think you'll get chosen if you lose? Still living in dreamland? [...] I want Rin, and I bet Isagi feels the same." -> Nagi to Bachira

Vs "you'd be satisfied if I chose you here? You wanna act like a team even if we're not excited about it? You think becoming best in the world is that simple?" -> Nagi to Reo

And then

"We don't need you the way you are now." -> to Bachira above

Vs, "'You're fine as you are.' That's what you said to me, Reo, but... For me to dream with you about being the best again, I want to change." -> Nagi to Reo (in his head)

Nagi doesn't really understand Bachira, either, but he understands the bond Bachira shares with Isagi. Two separate times, he sees himself and Reo's relationship mirrored in it, and that's what prompts his "pep talk".

While he might not grasp what motivates Bachira's ego, Nagi knows what motivated himself. So he offers much the same to Bachira. You want to keep playing with Isagi, just like I want to keep playing with Reo. So change, like I did. Keep working towards that dream, and don't throw in the towel, accept defeat, and wait for Isagi to pick you.

Bachira and Isagi's bond is pretty much the only time we see Nagi try and succeed at relating to someone else's emotions. He's able to do this because he can sense the similarities between them. It's a pattern he's plenty familiar with. So we could say he's still applying that flawed method I talked about above. Understanding others by comparing them to himself, assuming they think the same way.

But I'd like to point out that while he does get their bond as far as it mirrors his and Reo's, Nagi still doesn't grasp the ways in which it differs. Namely, he remains oblivious to Bachira's desire for connection. Nagi is perfectly comfortable being a loner, and while he misses Reo, he adjusts to the separation quite easily, at least emotionally. Well, partly because he caused it, but also because from his perspective, he and Reo were never really apart-apart. They'd eventually meet up again, Nagi would tell him all about his side quests, and they'd be fast besties once again.

At least, that's what Nagi envisions, because Nagi is a straightforward person who doesn't really grasp other people's perspectives past his own personal experience.

For that reason, I think, he remains oblivious to how his advice to Bachira hits like a slap where the boy's at his most vulnerable. But it all works out in the end, so in the grand scheme of things, Nagi has no reason to give it more thought past this interaction. Nagi's team loses, Isagi advances with Bachira, all is well again.

If Nagi got away with giving this as little thought as possible, though, his dynamic with Reo doesn't give him the same easy out. Not for lack of trying on his part. Reo doesn't initiate conversations with him for days (weeks?) on end, and Nagi is fine with never questioning it.

Now, normally I'd make a point here about how Nagi's major weakness is his refusal to think hard about anything unless he's forced to—or about how that's the main hinder to his development to date—but that's a post for another day. Suffice to say, for the sake of this argument, that his willingness to let things stay tense between him and Reo is part of the problem here.

Well, "willingness" might not be the right term here. From his pov, there isn't any tension at all, in fact.

Again, because Nagi had a reason that justifies leaving Reo behind, he doesn't see a strain in their relationship until Reo points it out to him. Worse yet, he struggles to see Reo's viewpoint even after Reo does point it out to him.

He's as clueless as they come, and he's closest to Reo than anyone else in blue lock. Despite this, not only does he not realize why Reo is upset with him and doesn't want to link up anymore, he also fails to grasp that Reo's angry at him at all.

I ran out of image space so I'm just gonna quote the next bit:

N: "We promised, right? To win the world cup together. I've just kept making the best choices I could for that goal. During the rival battle, I thought I could get stronger if I went with Isagi. And I chose England because I thought I could learn from Agi and Chris. So, now it's you, Reo. You're stronger now, so you and I can beat Isagi, unlike last time."

To which Reo understandably replies,

R: "Damn, you really are a selfish jerk, you know that?"

Nagi doesn't seem to realize that if you are a team, you should, you know... Communicate with your partner. Instead, he decides for himself, without even asking for Reo's input, what's the best course of action to achieve their dream, doesn't share his thought process with Reo at all, embarks on said course alone, and then one day randomly decides to have Reo tag along in it.

In his head, I think it all makes sense to him because he assumes Reo already knows all this, intuitively. After all, that's how their whole dynamic has been built so far. When Reo isn't anticipating Nagi's needs before Nagi has uttered them aloud, Nagi is instinctively following the vision Reo set up with a pass, and completing it with a goal.

I'd say that the fact that they relied so heavily on silent communication for much of their time as friends is half the reason why they are so bad at communicating with actual words. I'm including Reo in this because he's equally guilty of it too, what with him saying "do what you want" aloud, only to wish for Nagi to stay without verbalizing that thought to him.

But I digress.

My point is, in the scene above, Nagi assumes Reo would be fine with the split because Nagi himself was. It doesn't even occur to him that Reo might see it as the negation of their promise to each other, or that he would feel abandoned and forgotten about (sorry, can't post pictures, but notice his shock at Reo's accusations. Chapter 187). After all, Nagi spent the whole time thinking about all the things he wanted to tell him.

Once again, much like with Isagi in the first selection, Nagi's puzzled and surprised at Reo's angry burst in response to his pushing; he assumes the drive he feels will be mirrored or at least understood by the other person, but instead he's turned down, faced with a negative reaction he doesn't quite understand.

As Reo puts it, Nagi's imagination comes short of letting him empathize with Reo's feelings. The choice to move on without him is purely functional, then, but from his perspective it never involved any emotional distance. To Reo, however, who was left with an easy to misunderstand parting speech, the hurt of a perceived loss strongly overshadowed anything else. Nagi doesn't anticipate Reo's emotional response over rationality because Nagi himself is not an emotion-driven person. He doesn't see that Reo would be plagued by self doubt because Nagi doesn't doubt his skills. He fails to see how his actions could easily be misconstrued as indifference because Nagi's not one to read hidden meaning into people's words, and assumes others take things as face value, too.

But that's more than communication failure! That consistent lack of effort to imagine how others would feel or act in a given situation is a pattern, at least imo.

I think Nagi never had to make that kind of effort before, since he was pretty much on his own, and in a lot of ways he's still adapting to having peers he trusts and that he wants to be trusted by in response

One could say this is as much a process to him as understanding his own ego for football is, and I find that really fascinating to watch

#Bllk thoughts #Blue lock meta #Nagi seishiro #Nagi seishirou #Episode nagi #This took me way too long to type and I feel like the ending isn't as strong as the beginning #But I'm tired of looking at it so please accept it...? Thank you for reading if you hit that read more. Xoxo

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adleryoung · 2 years

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"Here you go," you say, as you hand the Guest Narrator a reheated mug of seasonal beverage. "One warm and most definitely vegan drink."

"Please, drink deeply. It was made with you in mind. You deserve something special."

"You're doing such a good job."

Thanks, man. Mmmm, this is like totes delish. Do I detect a note of nutmeg? Clove? Bitter almond? Why are you all staring at me like that? If you're thirsty, I'll wait while you get a drink too. No? Okay, then. Now that I'm mondo refreshed, like fo' shizzle and whatnot, let's continue with the story.

Next, Adler says:

. . .

"Since Rebecca has already told you every conceivable thing about me," I grumbled, "you probably know that I'm trying to start a loose organization of followers. You can think of it as a cult, but let me make it clear that you should worship Fuma, not me."

"My Lord," Rebecca asked meekly. "Did I do something wrong?"

I let out a weary sigh. Seeing the crestfallen expression on the rabbit femme's face troubled me more than it should. I suddenly realized that after spending so much time time convincing Rebecca of the virtues of seelieness, I couldn't be seen chiding my first official follower in front of her friends for being too honest. I needed to try a different approach.

"Technically no, you did nothing wrong," I admitted. "But technical and elfly are rarely ever the same! Subtlety and intuition are important! However, there's no way you could have known that. Let's just call this a learning experience and add it to the next lesson. I need to remember that not everyone is a mind-reader."

"Ooooh!" the vixen squealed. "Are we really going to learn how to read minds?"

I gritted my teeth and tried to remain calm. Rebecca told all of these lowfolk that I was a benevolent and infinitely patient entity. Now I was obligated to play the part, and that meant not getting so easily frustrated. I would have to exude confidence and control while maintaining an even-tempered composure. I tried to imagine how I would conduct this meeting if Vernier was one of the witches.

"Save your questions til the end," I said, calmly raising my finger for emphasis. "Now then, to continue: This so-called 'cult' is in its beginning stages, and that presents all of you with a unique opportunity. You could earn the prestige of becoming my first, original group of apostles, going out into the world and spreading tales of my deeds and doing good works in my name."

"Like the Blessed Baby Bunny?" Mother Didelphis coughed. "We came here to get away from that, dearie."

"I give out better prizes," I bluffed, based on the little that Rebecca had told me of their absurd lowfolk religion. "My most dedicated followers can earn fabulous rewards, and you don't have to wait til the afterlife to get them. I am offering wealth, beauty, long life, ancient knowledge, wish fulfillment (within reason), and magick, (REAL magick!) as well as a greater purpose in life. I don't yet know any of you as well as I know Rebecca, but I can see that like her, you are all outcasts and outsiders in society. You wanted to pursue witchcraft as a means of getting revenge against that society for one reason or another. But think about all the stories of wicked witches; how do they usually end? It never goes well for the witch. That's the consequence of being Unseelie, or as you call it, evil. In my service, you will have the opportunity to take all that negative energy and turn it into something positive. Instead of being hated for your differences, you will be celebrated, perhaps even loved for them! Doesn't that sound grand?"

. . .

Man, it must be a lot later than I thought. Despite the thrilling action of the story, I'm getting so drowsy I can hardly keep my eyes open. I think I -

The guest narrator suddenly slumps unconscious in his chair.

"Quickly!" you exclaim. "Get him into the pook-proof sack!"

"Are we sure this is Adler?" another of your shameless conspirators asks. "He passed out awfully fast. Maybe just check under his hood to be sure."

"No time. It has to be Adler. Who else could it be? Let's get him to the meeting place. If we hurry we can just make the deadline."

And so the craven, ungrateful, backstabbing listeners carry their load out into the night.

#furry #elf #story #adventure #plot #cartoon #tboay

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mundus2035 · 4 days

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Introduction to Power generation

Early stages of generation

Power is power; even ancient men needed it. Because they knew how to utilize their day in good sunlight, but they have no idea how to utilize nighttime because there was no light availability. Yes, I know you think that moonlight is present, but it is not sufficient for precision.

Years by years, decades by decade’s man started developing techniques to utilize the energy available in nature in many ways. After looking at crickets, the man realized the importance of light at midnight.

In about 600 BC, the ancient Greek people discovered that rubbing fur on amber can cause the attraction between two. At that time, they have no idea that this attraction is known as static electricity.

In the early 20s, to be precise, in 1930, the roman discovered an early form of battery which produces light at the sited during night time. The copper cylinder contains an iron rod surrounded with unknown electrolytes and sealed by an asphalt plug. This whole assembly is covered with a clay jar. Similar technology has been found in the archeological digging near the Bagdad.

Electrostatic generator’s classification of material such as conductors and insulators like this many inventions happened during the 17th century. This changed the face of power in history.

In 1600 an English physician named William Gilbert used the Latin word electrius to describe a force exerted by a certain substance when rubbed against each other. A few years later, Thomas Brown, an English scientist, wrote a book based on investigating the work of William Gilbert. He used the word electricity for the first time. And after that, everything started evolving.

The above few paragraphs are just an outline regarding the concept of power for ancient peoples.

Modern power generation

For the first time in history, Benjamin Franklin conducted his kite experiment Benjamin Franklin conducted extensive research on electricity and proved that light is a form of electricity by his famous kite experiment. This experiment helped him to invent a lightning rod.

In 1800 Alessandro Volta invented the first battery, and because of him, the transmission of electricity by linking positive and negative charge connectors and driving electricity through them got possible.

We all know the great Michael Faraday. His creations changed the entire history of electricity. In 1831 he invented the electric dynamo which is also known as a generator nowadays. A generator is the machine that converts mechanical power into electrical power, and due to this invention, the generation of electricity got possible.

Coming back to our topic, in the early 1800s when the alternating current is not yet invented direct current was the only source of power. As the DC system is less efficient for fuel consumption and distribution, the power generated was only available for businesses and not accessible for the public body.

Coal-powered steam engines are there, but they were costly to run, and distance transmission was impossible; at the same time, hydroelectricity is the most utilized form of power by using water mills used to transmit the power for small villages.

Still, the power transmission and generation crisis was not solved, in 1871 zenobe gramme first invented a generator that is powerful enough to produce power for industry.

In England, William lord amstrong designed and built the hydroelectric power plant. He got this idea from water lakes at his estate; he used the water from lakes to power Siemens dynamos and generated the power supplied for his house.

also read-

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anthonybialy · 2 months

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Kevyn Adams Generally Manages Buffalo Sabres Poorly

You’ll tell me the two previous Sabres coaches were a developmental guy known for guiding players who couldn’t drink legally and a soccer executive. Then you’ll tell me the general manager previously ran a hockey school. There’s now a contest to see how long one can hold the same undeserved title. Kevyn Adams proves that continued employment may not be tied to results. The tendency would be as baffling in anything else as in sports.

The question of why the disappointing worker who hires other workers with the unrelated background keeps his job while the disappointing coach with the unrelated background didn’t has defined this particular depressing offseason. Adams was presumably involved in hiring the erstwhile bench boss who got canned after another underwhelming campaign, which in turn prompts concerns about whether he knows what he’s doing, either. Everyone wonders but those in charge.

We’re waiting for Adams’s talents to transfer like the payoff for tanking. It’s theoretically inspiring to apply expertise from other jobs to a new one. But universality is not universal. Even if, say, an usher had the potential to make squad alterations, it still might be wise to go with an established hockey guru. Hiring someone who’s previously performed the actual tasks is the policy of 31 franchises.

Panic is best focused into motivation. The Sabres should be acting like they’re trying to locate a kidney. But they’re still not racing around to find the most experienced hockey officer possible. I wish Terry Pegula pursued a skilled manager like he does taxpayer money.

There’s more hockey after the regular season. The chance to keep playing seems like a dream as wild as finding the city of gold. The team of blue and gold is stuck reviewing questionable draft choices and trades. At least, they should be. A decade of ineptness was just the start.

Applying financial principles to personnel might motivate an owner who’s deeply invested in winning money. The false economy of hiring a bargain manager leads to less revenue. Seats are as easy to obtain as merchandise. Spending money to make money is one of the oldest notions in business. But Pegula can’t get past the first part.

This will also be the last time Adams is a general manager. Determine qualifications by asking how quickly he’d get a similar role if we ever got our dream of him getting fired. Imagining him ever serving as another franchise’s general manager is slightly less preposterous than the concept of ever again seeing Ralph Krueger behind a bench.

Like Adams, I’m hoping his job is saved by Lindy Ruff. It’s nice to share common ground. We also both want this team to win, although his questionable actions have made that outcome elusive. The sole source of inspiration will be able to yell about his disappointment in a cathartic release on behalf of us.

Prophets of hockey doom are hoping to be wrong. No Sabres followers who anticipate despondency are pleased with the prediction. That’d be like claiming the world will end then being glad when it happens so you can gloat. We call that the Jerry Sullivan standard. But noticing regrettable patterns does not mean those who perceive reality correctly favor those repeated lousy occurrences.

The problem of precedent has rendered hope obsolete. This continually disappointing team conditioned its followers to be exasperated. The Sabres are successful if conducting obvious scientific experiments counts.

Downcast Sabres fans aren’t negative: the team’s performance is, and they simply notice. True negativity comes from excessively optimistic fans who set themselves up for disappointment. This is the definition of an organization that needs to prove they offer an upside first. If they acquired players who picked up on tendencies as proficiently as fans do, they might make the postseason.

The cheapest option possible embodies the franchise’s brand. A manager executing the owner’s vision is great if that means making transactions that’ll lead to a parade with a trophy as the grand marshal. But trying to win sounds pricey. The Pegula way is to hire someone without proper abilities so they can spend as little as possible on someone who’ll do the same. The combination of meager qualifications and gratitude for having the job means Adams will always do his boss’s bidding. It’s not like he’s able to do more.

Exile has been unparalleled for awhile. No fan base has ever endured this. Sabres diehards who claim their woe is unique aren’t exaggerating while venting on social media: going at least four presidential elections between nabbing a playoff slot is an extended ongoing shameful league record an Eighth Amendment violation. Sisyphus had too rosy a perspective to cheer for the Sabres.

The all-time exclusion tally should inform every single discussion. Everyone’s noticed but those capable of remedying it. Staffers don’t seem too concerned. They reflect the culture created by the proprietor. A level of dreadful consistency that’s classified as historical hasn’t inspired the Sabres to make massive renovations in the present.

Actions are the important part, which is bad news for the side in question. They can claim they’re out to win and certainly mean it, but hiring decisions don’t match. Nonchalance from a team we used to enjoy decades ago is a sign they don’t care about us even if they’d plead otherwise. Incompetent indifference from the front office makes it sure seem like they don’t care. The Sabres shouldn’t feel surprised when fans offer their own version, namely apathy.

#Kevyn Adams #NHL #hockey #Buffalo Sabres #playoffs

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diogenesz2020portugal · 2 years

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youtube

"Creating this song wasn't easy, but I'm so proud of how it turned out. Want to say a big thank you for everyones support over the years. During the years trapped inside with chronic health problems the main thing that kept me going was a belief that one day I would come out the other side, and be able to achieve success through music. I don’t have a label, and sometimes pushing these things as hard as I want becomes a massive challenge, and I find myself frustrated that there aren’t enough hours in the day to push it as far as I want to. I would love to ask a favour to anyone who has ever enjoyed my music over the years, and it will only take a few minutes of your day.It would mean the world to me if you shared ‘Hi Ren’ as much as you can, over social media platforms, with friends, over email. Together, and with your help I can hopefully reach people all over the world, and get one step closer to the dream I always had! Thank you so much for the support so far!"

"Up until I was 9 years old, I would intermittently hear a voice in my head that was not my own. The voice was distinctly different to mine, and always negative. It would self criticise or urge me to do things I knew to be morally wrong. The most peculiar thing about the voice was that it took no effort on my behalf to produce. My own thoughts always felt like there was a process that required effort to bring them to the forefront of my mind, this voice appeared as though it was spoken by another. The sentences felt predetermined like they had already been constructed. I remember very vividly at 9 years old, becoming very frustrated with the voice. I stood in my back yard, internally screaming at the voice to be silent again and again, and it did. In a flash there was silence, to the point where my head felt like an empty room. I wasn't used to the quiet and that voice never returned. It almost felt lonely in my head. When I got older I had intermittent bouts with auditory hallucinations where I would hear perfect symphonies, usually at night when drifting off to sleep. They were so clear that they sounded like they were emanating from a radio in the corner of my room. I knew they weren't there, but for some reason they never came with the feeling of fear. I also recall sitting on a bus at the age of 15, and hearing the sound of a crowded room, with about 100 voices chattering away, I was the only person apart from the driver on the bus. These experiences were always very brief, and few and far between. My last hallucination was during an intense bout of psychosis in 2015, and was my first visual hallucination. I was walking down a pavement after jumping out my mums car in a crossroads in a moment of frustration and distress with my condition. I was trying to run from myself. What appeared to be a homeless man with a dark complexion approached me, and asked me what was wrong. I explained that I had been sick most my life, and I wasn't sure I had the strength to continue. He looked at me, and smiled and told me 'everything is going to be okay in the end Ren.' I had not told him my name. There was something so overpoweringly sincere about this very simple message, which brought with it an overwhelming feeling of inner peace, and in a flash, he vanished. My rational brain always linked these experiences to what the doctors have told me, that there are parts of my brain compromised by the autoimmunity in my body. That the myelin sheaths surrounding the complex electrical system that conduct my thoughts were damaged and compromised, causing these lucid experiences that I knew did not exist inside the physical world. The part of me that edges away from logical and rational thought always attributed these thoughts to some kind of otherworldly intervention, that made my thoughts the battleground of some spiritual tug of war. For a long time I never really acknowledged this part of myself, for with it brought the danger and stigma of sounding like a crazy person. I decided with my latest release, to the best of my ability, to capture and express this chess match of thought."

#Youtube

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creativeashproductions · 3 years

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Change of Scenery // Evan Buckley

IN WHICH: Captain Bobby Nash has kept a secret from his friends, his wife and his step children since 2015 when he came to LA. Bobby’s eldest and only surviving child comes to LA to reconcile and make amends all the while she catches the eye of a certain blue eyed firefighter.

Warnings: Swearing, death/familial loss, pregnancy, blood, angst, injuries/medical emergency, and fluff

Words: 8k

A/N: Back at it with another 9-1-1 fic. Hope you enjoy, and I may just have to do another crossover with 9-1-1 and Julie and the Phantoms.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

There are moments in our lives that define us, whether it can be known as a positive or negative, but the outcome is always the same. A six-letter word that strikes fear and excitement into the souls of humans is change. The fear can be for ourselves or as a result of a child, a sibling, or a parent branching out on their own. Unfortunately, you had gone through a harsh and cruel experience on a cold winter night in the city you grew up in.

A typical Thursday filled with classes at the college you attended in Minnesota on a scholarship, nothing out of the ordinary. The plan had been to drive to your parents’ apartment to catch up with them for the weekend. Saturday morning was already reserved for a girls day with your little sister Brook and your mom. In the afternoon, you’d promised to take your brother Bobby to the ball diamond.

Your bag was packed, the plan to drive straight from class to St. Paul the following day to arrive in the daylight. Your dad struggled with worry when it came to you driving in the dark and especially in winter with icy roads.

“Y/N!” Dottie screeched from the living room of the four-bedroom dormitory. The pretty and curvy brunette had been the first friend you made in college.

Typically Dottie was on the quieter side, so when she screamed, you practically sprinted to the girl.

“Where’s the fire?” You demanded with a smirk at the reference to a topic that was a constant in your family.

The fire drills your father conducted every four months for an exit plan in case of a fire and general information to save yourselves. He had also trained you to remember fire hazards and how to call dispatch with clear information if that time ever came. It never did and hopefully never would.

“The Lakeview Apartments in St. Paul.” Dottie’s dark brown eyes spoke only of pity and concern. The five foot ten roommate literally caught you as you tumbled into her arms with a loud grief-stricken scream.

You were forever indebted to the brunette for the plans she sacrificed to drive you back to St. Paul. There was absolutely no chance Dottie would allow you to both drive and be alone with no news. The media hadn’t released the names of the 148 deaths the fire relentlessly tore from the land of the living.

“I want to prepare you for what you’ll see. Your mother suffered severe third-degree burns over the majority of her body.” The kind nurse, also one of your friend’s parent, explained as she guided you to the Burn Center in the Regions Hospital, “I don’t want to lie and tell you she’ll be fine. You’re an adult Y/N. You deserve the truth and not be coddled.”

“Is she gonna survive?” You quietly asked, “Has she woken up since she was brought in?”

“The doctor placed her on a high dosage of morphine for the pain. Your father hasn’t left her side.” Lucinda informed you with sympathy written as over her face, The hazel eyes unable to adequately meet yours.

“I’ll check on her, then could you take me to the rooms my siblings are in?” You asked, completely unaware Brook and Bobby had been DOA at the hospital.

Your father hadn’t answered the text messages or the voicemails you had left on his phone—radio silent. You couldn’t be mad when he was with your mom, but a text would have been nice.

“This is where your mother is staying for the unforeseeable future. If you need anything, you can call me.” Lucinda softly replied before turning her heel to head back to the Burn Centre’s front desk.

It was horrific walking into a room with no idea if the occupant who had raised you would survive. The confident, gorgeous mother you had for the past nineteen years was unfamiliar to you, the extensive gauze covering nearly every inch of her body. You almost couldn’t even recognize the man sitting in the chair with his hands wrapped.

“Dad? What happened?” You questioned the grieving man. The only person left in your family as you would soon come to know.

“Y/N?” Bobby gasped, pushing himself to his feet, staring at his only living child. The guilt ate at him just staring at you with those light brown eyes, “Oh, sweetheart.”

Your dad crossed the room in a few steps. The scent of smoke was still clinging to every part of him, but it was fine. Your dad was okay, minus the wounds on his hands. You’d always been closer with your father than your mother.

“Dad, what happened?” You quietly asked the ashamed firefighter that had to reconcile his feelings on the fire and his career—that struggle ending up pushing you away when he really just wanted you as close as possible.

“The building caught on fire after an ember from a heater lit a blanket on fire,” Bobby informed you with his eyes pinned on his wife. Bobby knew the chances of Marcy surviving were incredibly low, and he had to tell you that.

Bobby only knew the details passed on from a firefighter who pitied the man who’d lost most of his family.

“Is Mom gonna be okay?” You questioned, and the said injured woman in the bed weakly responded.

“Baby?” Marcy quietly questioned from her absolutely still position on the hospital bed, “Uh, Bobby.”

You left your father’s side to be as close to your mom as possible, with the clear plastic separating you for her safety. Your heart shattered at the sheer exhaustion in her pretty blue eyes.

“Hi, Mom.” You shakily spoke with one hand lightly pressed against the plastic divider. You didn’t even notice when your dad stepped up too.

“Marcy?” Bobby called out from right beside you, just as torn up, but Bobby carried extra weight on his shoulders, “We’re right here, Marcy. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

The muffled grunt of pain, your mom’s attempt to save you from grief, Marcy let out as she turned her head to look at you. You knew deep in your gut that this was the time place you would see your mom alive. And by the look in her eyes, she knew too.

“The...kids…?” Your mom’s breathing became more erratic as she questioned the man she viewed as her hero. The man she believed had saved her and their youngest children, “Where...are they?”

“The kids are fine.” The way your father said it and the tears led to the knowledge once kept from you.

“No.” You whispered, seeing the total grief written clear on his face. The pain meds and agony kept your mom from knowing the truth.

“They’re safe.”

“I knew you’d come and save us.” Your mom breathed as her eyes started hiding the pretty blue you’d now only see in pictures. In your dreams, until even those faded as father time cruelly pulled you along.

Then your worst nightmare happened. You watched as the woman you looked up to flatlined with the thought of her children safe. You’d always know she’d held on just long enough to find out the state of her children. You could only hope she’d forgive your father for lying to her as she died.

“Mom!” You screamed, fighting the arms of an orderly restraining you. You barely noticed the resistance to your frantic attempts.

One minute you were staring at a team unsuccessfully trying to revive your long-gone mother, then you were in a hotel room. The atmosphere tense and quiet between father and daughter, with the ghost of your dead family to keep you both company. You could hear Brook gagging every time you’d kissed your now ex. You could see Bobby toddling after you years ago.

At least you had your father—a father whose guilt festered until he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“It was my fault.” He murmured, staring at the barely eaten burger that tasted solely just cardboard. He couldn’t bear to look at your face, “I didn’t mean to leave it on.”

Your head snapped to stare at him in disbelief, “What do you mean you didn’t mean to leave it on?”

“I-I went to the roof to sleep after your mom kicked me out. I didn’t have my keys to the apartment I had below ours.” Bobby began spilling the lies he’d told to you about his addictions. Of the apartment, you’d had no clue was even in his possessions.

The pain of losing your family tore into you, “You took my mom away from me. I’ll never get to share my wedding day with her. Shopping for a dress and gossiping about boys. I’ll never be able to wipe Brook’s tears during her first heartbreak.”

Each word broke Bobby more and more.

“You stole my future. You’re selfish, ungrateful and utterly pathetic. You cost so many people so much, all because you sought out your next high.” You spat, glaring at someone you’d never expected to hurt you. You didn’t notice your hands grabbing your possessions nor opening the hotel room door, “You couldn’t even properly try to get clean.”

“Y/N-”

“Get your shit together before you kill anyone else. I never want to see you again.” You sobbed with regret already festering in your body, but pride held you back from apologizing.

Upon your return to your dorm with Dottie by your side, you immediately began the process to enter an exchange program. Within a month, your feet entered Sydney Airport. You didn’t return to America for several years.

You took a job as a casual lifeguard on Bondi Beach, met Lucas in a meet-cute situation at the grocery store. You graduated college and found a job as a paramedic as you began becoming a flight paramedic. In 2020 Lucas and you discovered you’d be bringing in a little baby into the world.

Learning about your little Cashew growing safe in your womb fanned the flame of desire to reconcile. Ultimately the pride kept pushing the urge to apologize for the cruel words you told your father further away. You naively believed you had all the time in the world.

Remember the six-letter scary word? If losing your mom, siblings, and father was a devastating blow, losing Lucas was nearly tied. Your little Cashew lost their father before they even got to meet him. That was push enough to pack up your home and fly back to America with your father’s new address as soon as you could.

In the fallout of the apartment fire, your father relocated from Minnesota to Los Angeles.

Los Angeles, 2020

As soon as you’d found the nicest but cheapest hotel to stay in until you found a place, you walked the streets of LA. The first order of business of approaching your father at his workplace as you had no personal address. Residing still in Minnesota, Deputy Chief Evans had only given you the address of Bobby’s work.

You could only hope Bobby wouldn’t turn you away. That he was willing to bridge the gap, you’d widened over the years. That he could forgive the silence to each email, he sent when you changed numbers.

“We should go out to dinner.” The female voice was what brought you back to the present time. The woman was beautiful with her buzzed head and clear skin.

Right by her side was a dark-haired male of Asian ethnicity with a bag thrown over his shoulder, “If you’re paying, you bet I’ll be there.”

The two continued to converse in their own world until the man had to literally dodge you when they finally noticed you.

“Does Chief Bobby Nash work here?” You inquired, having no desire to enter small talk when the baby was sitting on your bladder again. You nearly retched when the man stared down at your swollen midsection, shocked, “It’s not his baby.”

Hen caught the evident disgust on your face, “He’s in his office. I’ll guide you there…”

“Y/N.” You supplied the firefighter. Hen smiled in response, “And your name is…”

“Henrietta Wilson, but you can call me Hen. That was Howard Han. He goes by Chimney, and I’ve been sworn to secrecy on the name.” Hen chuckled in her steps to the closed door of the fire chief. Hen swiftly knocked on the door to give Bobby a heads up.

“Come in!” Bobby called from his pile of paperwork he had pushed and waited to work on. It had slipped as the date came closer. Your twenty-seventh birthday, the seventh one since he last saw you.

“Cap, a woman is asking for you,” Hen told her friend and boss. It’s a good thing you didn’t choose to surprise your father because Hen was shorted, and your bump made manoeuvring around tricky.

“What can I do…” Bobby trailed off when he saw the girl waiting to talk to him. The pen in his hand dropped to the table in shock.

Hen glanced between the two equally taken aback individuals, “Am I missing something here?”

“Hey, dad.” You whispered to the man who’d been dreaming of this moment since the minute you left. He’d searched for you at your previous college and nearly made a missing person report.

“Dad?” Hen couldn’t pick her jaw up from the floor if she even wanted to because this was juicy information. Sure, Bobby had caved into telling his team, his family that he’d lost his wife and two children in a fire.

He rarely talked about his life before the 118, but he’d never mentioned having a surviving daughter. Not in the handful of times he’d talked about the tragedy, nor did he have any objects or photos of you.

“You’re really here?” Bobby lightly chuckled with a twinkle in his eye. Hen had only seen a handful of times. All of them had Athena in the scene, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” You beamed, stepping closer to the man you’d missed dearly, “I’m so sorry for the way I left. What I said was cruel and untrue. You aren’t selfish, and I can’t blame you for something you couldn’t control.”

Bobby grinned. He’d stepped around his desk only to halt when he took in an undeniable development—the baby bump you carried.

“Is-”

“I’m pregnant. Six months along with a baby girl.” You laughed to the apparent disbelief in your father’s light brown eyes. His gaze continued to shift between the bump and your e/c eyes.

“Wow. Sorry, this is...wow.”

“She’s one of the reasons I wanted to come back. To fix our relationship because I want her to know her grandpa. You’re the only grandparent Poppy will know.” Bobby was quick to tug you into his arms as soon as the first tear dropped down your cheek.

There was so much you wanted to tell your father, but that overwhelming grief rose higher. You’d left Australia where Lucas laid in a plot in a cemetery. You left the friends you’d found in the city. Left the lifeguard job you’d come to love.

“Where are you and your partner staying?”

“He...uh...Lucas passed away recently.”

The arms holding you tightened in response to your confession, “Oh sweetheart.”

“I didn’t know where else to go. I can’t stay in the home we bought. Not the place he died when I couldn’t save him.”

“I don’t know what happened, but it wasn’-”

“Don’t coddle me. I was...am a paramedic. A flight paramedic, to be specific, so I know that my hesitation could be the reason he died.”

Your career took the father by complete and utter surprise because you’d always planned on a different job. Before the fire that claimed so many lives, you’d never entertained a career in the emergency field.

“We have a lot to catch up on. First, you need to know that I’ll always love your mother no matter what, but you need to know. I met someone when I first moved here, and we were friends at first. She divorced her husband. We started dating...sweetheart, I remarried.”

A wave of emotions flared in your chest, from betrayal to sadness and ultimately happiness. Having lost your first love, you understood and knew if love came around for you, you wouldn’t ignore it. Lucas wouldn’t want that.

“I can’t wait to meet her.”

Re-entering into Bobby’s new life was a difficult adjustment for everyone included. Tension had risen between Athena and Bobby for a brief period. Athena hadn’t even been aware of your existence, but she could fault Bobby. Athena had even told her first husband about her late fiance Emmett when they were still together.

It was difficult for you with the new addition of two step-siblings in the same birth order as Brook and Bobby had been. The Grant siblings had welcomed you into the family without any reservations.

“Did you ever get to fly the chopper?” Harry asked as he scrubbed the dirty dish from the Sunday family dinner.

It was the first dinner that had no awkward tension since you arrived back in the country. Athena had taken a bit to warm up, but it was nothing personal. She’d actually been the one to find you you’d been staying at a hotel. Mama Athena did not like her pregnant step-daughter living at a hotel. She’d actually stormed your room with Hen and Karen as back up to pack your room and leave for the Grant-Nash house.

“No. I had to help keep the patients alive. If I’m telling the truth...sometimes I didn’t even notice I was in the air.” You whispered to your stepbrother. He was just invested in your career as he had been when Bobby first entered their lives.

“That is so cool!” Harry enthused with soap suds splashing your thin knitted sweater. Harry’s mouth formed an ‘o’ when you flicked water onto his face in retaliation.

“Do you know Bondi Beach in Australia?” You inquired the youth with the chore of dishes completed.

“Yeah! There’s a tv show called Bondi Rescue! I watch the clips on YouTube!” Harry exclaimed, hot on your heels to the couch. Out of May and Harry, he followed you around with questions about your life in Australia.

“I was a casual lifeguard. I’m not featured on that show, but I would get called in when a lifeguard was needed. It paired well with my job as a flight paramedic.” You half-smiled, remembering the Bondi lifeguards who had welcomed you into the family. You became one of them when they started pranking you.

“Did you ever see a shark-”

“Harry, go brush your teeth. Leave Y/N alone.” Athena informed her youngest from the open patio doors. Your father, Athena and May had been outside as soon as the table had been cleared.

“But-”

“Harry,” Athena warned the youngest Grant. Harry didn’t attempt to argue with his stern mother; all he did was hug you quickly. You watched the young boy disappear into the hallway.

“He reminds you of your little brother?” Athena questioned. In your time of reminiscing, the older woman had settled in Harry’s previous position.

“A little.” You whispered, “Thank you for welcoming me into the family. For making my dad happy.”

“You know I may have some baby clothes put away if you’d like to use them?” Athena offered with that smile that made you feel at home. Athena was far different from your late mother, with her presence commanding respect and intelligence. Your mom was similar, but I suppose it could be described as a softer touch.

“Anyway, saving a penny is appreciated. I have a question for you also.” You hesitantly started with a bundle of nerves deep in your belly. Athena turned to give you her full attention.

“Well? Out with it.” Athena pushed, but she had a slight feeling of what you were about to ask her.

“My mom was one the strongest women I know. It hurts that my baby won’t get to experience her love and guidance, and you can say no. We’ve only known each other a short time, but would you consider...maybe being a grandma to my baby?”

Giddy was the feeling Athena developed along with the laughing smile that only came from happiness. The woman could only nod her head in response to your hesitant question. To Athena’s knowledge but not yours, Bobby was softly smiling, watching his formerly estranged daughter getting along with your stepmom.

“Oh!” You gasped as your baby kicked hard enough for her foot imprint to be seen through your knitted sweater.

Bobby was by your side in concern the second he heard your startled sound, but Athena wasn’t that concerned. Athena remembered having the same reaction.

“Are you okay?” Bobby frantically questioned. He faltered when the woman shared a belly-deep laugh at the sheer fear written in the seasoned firefighter’s eyes.

“Poppy was kicking.” You chuckled as your father’s shoulders dropped in relief, “Here.”

Your nimble fingers clasped around your father’s wrist to bring his palm to the spot Poppy was kicking. A certain lightness flooded your entire body, being capable of sharing this experience with Bobby. Watching tears well up in the grandpa to be’s brown eyes.

“Whoa.” Bobby breathlessly spoke as Poppy kicked against his palm. The feeling building in his was exhilarating with the small amount of grief mixed in, “I remember when your mom was pregnant with you. We didn’t know if we were having a girl or boy, but she was adamant you would be a kickboxer. So active.”

Athena watched as the relationship between father and daughter started healing directly in front of her eyes. The Sergeant was about to give you two some privacy when you caught her hand in your free one.

“Here.” You informed the older woman shifting to place her hand where your father’s hand had previously been. Your e/c eyes sought the wonder-filled different shades of brown eyes the couple had.

“You should get some sleep,” Athena spoke, staring at her hand resting on your bump. Her dark chocolate brown rising to find your gaze, “You won’t be getting a lot once she arrives.”

Bobby and Athena watched as you turned the corner to the spare room Athena’s parents used when they visited. For the time being, you’ve moved into the room, and the Grant-Nash house hoped you would stay. May had always wanted a sister, and Harry loved all the stories you told about Australia.

“You know, at some point, you’ll have to talk to her.”

“I just was-’

“-without anyone else being the buffer. Bobby, both your lives is evidence enough that some things are too trivial to stress over.” Athena pinned her stern gaze on her husband. The same husband is actively trying to avoid her penetrating gaze.

“What I did-’

“Is in the past, Bobby. You have a second chance with that wonderful woman in that bedroom and our grandchild. Now, are you sure that having the party at the firehouse is okay?”

A hand supported the base of your back where an ache tended to stay for most of the day. That ache wasn’t the worst symptom of your pregnancy. You had heartburn constantly that tied with unfortunate constipation that had thankfully lessened. Your purse always had a cardigan for the hot flashes as well.

“Perfect! May has my car, and Bobby needed that.” Athena beamed from the open bay of the 118. One of the firefighters, Eddie, if you recalled, snagged your purse and the specific ingredient for a recipe.

“You could have borrowed Bobby’s-”

“His vehicle is in the shop Buck.” Athena interrupted the only member of the 118 you had let to officially meet.

Now there were two suspects of the sudden shortness of breath you started experiencing. It could be Poppy in the limited space in your body or the handsome firefighter. Buck had to be hands down none of the most attractive men you’d ever encountered. His dark blonde hair had minimal height, but the soft waves made your fingers itch to feel it. His ocean blue eyes crinkled at the corners with mirth.

“Ah, so you’re flesh and blood of Cap?” Buck questioned from in front of you. His blue eyes centred solely on you, with half a mind thanking himself that he could navigate the station blindfolded in the dark.

“For the last twenty-seven years, I have been.” You retorted, stopping at the edge of the stairs to the apparatus. Your keen sense of smell catching one of your favourite meals your father had dug up from the recipes he hadn’t used in years.

A zing of electricity trailed off your arm when a calloused palm met yours. Your e/c eyes followed the path of tan skin until it reached the shirt sleeve of Buck’s t-shirt. The shirt emblazoned on the chest with the department’s insignia. The man in the casual uniform guided you safely up the stairs with his hand on your back.

The pressure of Buck’s hand on your aching back muscle nearly brought what would be an embarrassing moan from your lips. Thankfully a gasp of surprise fell out instead at the banner hanging with other decorations.

“What?” You choked, cupping your hands to your face. Pure unadulterated shock and affection flooded every inch of you.

The entire 118 squad intermixed with their loved ones surrounded the open area with grins. On a table behind everyone was many wrapped gifts. But the cake was the most impressive.

A large rectangular cake in the realistic shape of a fire engine parked in front of a fire hydrant with a fondant hose going to the truck. On top of the fire truck was the turnout boots next to the matching helmet, the 118 proudly on it. You adored the turnout coat draping off the top to hang off the side.

“If you look at the helmet, it says Poppy.” Buck enthused, guiding you even closer to catch the immaculate cake, “It has to be the best cake we’ve gotten from them.”

“Hey, my rebar head cake was phenomenal!” Chimney called with a belying grin on his face. His hand encased by a brunette woman about his height with her heels on.

“It’s a long story.” Buck offered as soon as you gave him a weird questioning look, “Let me introduce you to everyone!”

For the next five minutes, you spend it by meeting the family of 118, including Eddie’s completely adorable son. Christopher was happy to sit next to you as soon as Harry had found you. Slowly the others came closer to hear the stories.

“What’re the most common injuries on the beach?” Denny, Hen and Karen’s ten-year-old son questioned.

“Bluebottle Jellyfish stings. On one day, we had hundreds of people come to the tower for stings, and the treatment for the minor ones is stingose spray and ice.”

“My question is how a girl from Minnesota is a lifeguard in Australia. Especially on Sydney’s most dangerous beach.” Chimney inserted, waving his bottle of pop at you, his eyes kept moving towards the wine Maddie brought.

Unfortunately, the 118 wouldn’t be celebrating with the wine until their shifts ended in a few short hours. It was a damn miracle they hadn’t been called out yet.

“This former Minnesotan spent summers at my best friend’s parents’ place in Cali as a lifeguard. Also, Bondi is not the most dangerous beach in Sydney. That’s Tamarama.” You pointed towards the man who raised his hands in surrender.

“Have you ever seen a dead body?” Harry asked, bringing a sobering silence in the question’s wake.

Your body language changed as soon as he asked, “Unfortunately, I’ve seen death as a paramedic and as a lifeguard.”

“You’re a paramedic? I thought you were just a lifeguard?” Buck asked, interested in the new information. Buck could feel his Captain’s eyes on the back of his head; he was sure Bobby could smell the attraction on Buck.

“Casual lifeguard. Called when needed as a backup.” You turned your e/c eyes towards the arguably youngest member of the 118.

“How many dead-”

“Harry.” Athena warned her son from continuing a topic that killed the ease and happiness you’d shown previously, “Why don’t we stop talking about-”

“Too many, Harry.” You interrupted your stepmom with a gentle smile towards the woman, “It’s not just drowning that claims lives but also the cliffs surrounding the beaches. Lifeguards patrol more than the beaches and water. Lifeguards respond to medical emergencies, mostly spinal until the paramedics arrive.”

“Oh-”

“I had a fellow lifeguard leave the job because of the suicides we deal with.”

“...who wants cake?” Karen used the quiet interlude of the much too serious topic for a group of kids barely in the double digits of ages. All referenced children followed Hen’s life to the beautiful baked creation.

“Sorry for getting dark there.”

“We all know the dark side of the jobs we chose to do. You sound like you miss Australia. Are you going to return there?” Eddie questioned with one eye pinned on his son, consuming more sugar than he wished.

Eddie’s question did raise self-doubt, but you knew that ultimately living in Australia was no longer a viable option.

“There’s nothing there for me.”

Eddie, Buck and your father understood that mentality to a ‘t’ with family complications keeping them away. Your father for obvious reasons, whereas Eddie and Buck each had a living family with opinions only they saw right.

“You’re always welcome here. Especially when you bring that little cutie to the firehouse.” Maddie cooed towards your baby bump. The 911 dispatcher had asked many questions about your pregnancy.

Maddie was the type of person who could make a stranger feel like they had known for their entire lives.

“Here.”

A plate of the cake was thrust in front of your face courtesy of Maddie’s brother Buck. It is quite literally the perfect size you could ask for. In his other hand, he had a new bottle of water waiting for you to grab.

“Thank you, Buck.” Your shock must have shown in your voice when his cheeks flushed.

“This whole party is a celebration for you, so you shouldn’t have to get up...unless you want to!” Buck rushed to respond, getting more flustered with the amused look of his older sister on him, “You’re already doing something absolutely amazing, so you should get to rela-”

“Buck!” You laughed, ending the older man’s rambling thoughts. The entire party attendees had started watching Buck’s failed smooth attempt.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Buck mutely nodded in response, “No prob-”

The bell was the one to interrupt him instead. The on-duty firefighters rushed down from the upper levels to the lockers. The swift suiting up impressed you as it was like you blinked, and the bay was empty.

“Should be the last call before they get off shift.” Maddie, still occupied with the cake she was eating, “That wine looks so good!”

Your attention snapped from the vacant spots the 118 vehicles parked to the woman ploughing down on the cake. Sure it was good, but not that good. Maybe you could tell as a pregnant woman, or perhaps you just caught some of the symptoms you felt.

“How far along are you?”

Maddie froze, “What are you talk-”

“You’re pregnant, right?”

“Don’t tell anyone. Chim and I found out recently, but we want to wait on telling people. Once the first trimester is over, everyone can know.” Maddie pleaded with two hands cupped under her chin in a prayer position. The pretty brunette using the puppy dog eyes on the new friend she’d made.

“You should tell Buck-”

“We will once we enter the safe zone. So tell me about your baby’s father.” Maddie swiftly changed the subject, unaware of the ache developing in your midsection.

“Lucas Gowan.” You mussed, recalling the freckled half Australian half Scots man with the thick red locks.

“Ooh, is he still in Australia?”

“Technically, he is. I met him at the grocery store near the university campus. I’d transferred to escape my grief. It was purely an attraction at first sight before developing into love at first sight. We convocated and moved into a cosy little place. We’d only just found out about the baby when Lucas passed away.”

As you told Maddie, your hand had moved to cradle the only remaining piece of Lucas.

“His death was unexpected and sudden. He’d taken a run the morning of our scan to find out baby Gowan’s gender. He fell off the side of the cliff. I was told he died instantly. The investigator believes his shoelace untied, and he stepped on it. Fell right off the side.”

“I’m so sorry.” Maddie breathed, leaning closer to hold your hands in her own, “He’d be so proud of you. For returning to the states. Do you keep in contact with his family?”

“He was an only child. Parents died in a car accident when he was ten years old. He was in foster care until he aged out of the system. Poppy is named after his mom.”

Maddie instinctively knew talking about Lucas was, “You know you get along pretty well with Buck... I’ve never seen him so flustered.”

“Maddie, I can tell you are a very intelligent woman, but you’re wrong here. Why would a guy like Buck be interested in a pregnant woman with a reconciling relationship with her father and his Captain while grieving her baby’s dad?”

Maddie tilted her head to the side, “Because I know my brother. He’s only ever had that look when I first moved to LA. Back when Abby was still important to him.”

“We’ll just have to agree to disagree.”

Maddie’s mouth opened to speak, but you were saved by the bell when Athena called you over for pictures. Then her attempts got thwarted once more when the 118 returned to the house perfectly synced to the end of shift.

“Driving here was the last time until the baby’s here. You’ve got precious cargo-”

“I’m seven months pregnant; I can still drive. There’s no law saying I can’t-”

Never argue with Athena Grant-Nash, “It may not be illegal, but I won’t endanger my daughter or my granddaughter.”

“I have to get to my OB/GYN appointment tomorrow. You and Dad each have a long shift during my scheduled appointment. Harry is both too young to drive and in school. May has a shift at dispatch. There’s literally no one available to take me.”

Bobby watched as two of the most important women in his life argued over something as trivial as driving. Harry shook at listening to someone fighting against his mother; she could be terrifying.

“I can take her.”

Everyone in the fir house turned to the voice who’d offered suddenly and found the sheepish form of a tall firefighter. Eddie’s eyebrows raised at his best friend.

“I don’t work tomorrow. I’ve got no plans. Albert’s got some date with a girl at her place.”

“I couldn’t put you out.”

“You need a ride, and I’ll be bored, so why not take my new friend to her baby doctor.”

“Baby doctor?” Hen parroted to her wife in astonishment towards her coworker and close friend. Both the women found the blatant flirting from Buck to the soon to be mother.

“She’ll take you up on the offer. She’s staying in our guest room. Come early for breakfast before you go. We’ll be having waffles.”

Buck found any excuse to visit the Grant-Nash home with the motive to hang out with you ever since the baby shower. From delivering baked goods from your favourite bakery to insisting on driving you to appointments. Didn’t matter if Athena or Bobby could take you; Buck was adamant he drove you.

The friendship was easy going and very natural, like a ball glove still moulded perfectly to your hand. The hangouts in your home evolved to weekly visits to restaurants with guidelines to the current event happening worldwide.

Ultimately it even led to a test date.

“You look breathtaking.” Buck breathlessly informed you once he’d gently pushed your chair closer to the table.

“Thank you.” You kindly responded despite thinking the complete opposite to the charming man sitting across from you.

Athena and May had helped you get ready for the date with calming words on how going on a date so far into the pregnancy was okay. Then, your father had tentatively inserted himself with sage advice on re-entering the dating scene.

“I thought we could grab some ice cream after,” Buck spoke up as soon as the waiter had taken your drink order. Buck had decided to refrain from alcohol and went with glasses of lemonade and water.

“You shouldn’t say that. I’ll just want ice cream.” You snickered, caressing the taut belly you’d grown to love. In fact, the firm push of a heel announced Poppy’s agreement with ice cream as dessert.

“How is Poppy?”

“The doc says she’s right on track. Healthy all around and in the position, she’s supposed to be at this stage.” Buck adored the affectionate smile that always appeared when the topic of your pregnancy was brought up.

“That’s amazing! Bobby gushes about you and Poppy. The fridge has an entire door dedicated to sonograms of Poppy. Even a few from that maternity shoot Hen and Maddie surprised you with.”

A few weeks had passed since the baby shower the 118 had surprised you with. Maddie had announced her pregnancy to the joy of the chosen family she had. Bobby had put together a crib he had painted. Michael, Athena’s ex-husband, had started making plans for adding on to the house for a room for the baby.

Despite informing the architect, you planned on moving out when you had saved enough, he’d made a sound argument. Athena would want a place for the baby to stay when you visited, or the woman demanded to babysit.

Now you found yourself in a National forest not far from Los Angeles, posing in front of nature. A surprise photoshoot Hen and Karen had organized with Karen’s brother Trey. Maddie and Athena had been the ones who drove you.

“Hold the teddy bear on your bump,” Trey informed you from behind his professional and intimidating camera. The photographer praised you in the rapid movement to listen to his offer.

“Hey! Maddie! You should take a few photos. I need a pee break.” You didn’t wait for Maddie to respond in your rush to the somewhat rustic bathroom hut.

By the time you returned, Maddie was taking a couple pictures. Then you took some with Athena to have on the nursery walls and for Bobby to have a photo for his desk.

“Now one with all three of you.”

Present

“So a daredevil.” You stated unsurprised that the firefighter had a history of recklessness. You don’t go into firefighting without a taste for danger.

“The bruises and blood fit better than the awful bleached hair during my time in Peru.” Buck laughed, recalling the questionable choice in his fashion pre-firefighting. Sometimes he missed the people he encountered in his period of self-discovery.

“You didn’t wear puka sh-”

“I did. Bleached hair, puka shells and Hawaiian shirts were my staples during my bartending years. I fit in with the aesthetic of the bar I tended.”

“Buck!” You nearly gasped at his raw honesty. Buck didn’t hold back any answers to your questions, but you each strayed from the topic of family.

Talking about the tragic family history wasn’t a good idea on the first time regardless of the time you’d known each other.

“You’re telling me-” Buck halted as soon as he caught the flash of discomfort flicker over your beautiful features, “Are you okay?”

“She shifted. Been sitting on my blad-” You cut yourself off with a hiss of pain. Buck’s eyes widened at the pain taking over your features, “Oh, that hurt.”

Buck went straight into work mode, “Have you been in pain for long?”

“No. A few cramps here and there today, but my doctor said it was nothing to worry about.” You informed the experienced first responder resting level to your knees.

Buck didn’t want to say it, but he was sure that you’d gone into early labour. There was no indication your water had broken, but he kept over the last hour together. Every once in a while, you shifted or pressed a hand to your bump.

“Has your water broken?”

You shook your head, “No, but...oh... that’s not a cramp.”

With that statement out, you clenched your fingers tight on the edge of the table as pain rippled in your belly. A contraction that stole your breath momentarily. In your contraction, Buck had dialled 911. Buck recalled that sometimes a woman’s water doesn't break until right before the birth.

“We’re not getting that ice cream, are we?” You snorted upon being lifted onto the gurney. How fortunate or unfortunate you were to have the 118 right there.

Hen had taken a position at your feet to check on your lower body while Chimney took your vital signs. You honestly didn’t like the look Hen and Chimney shared with Buck.

“What is it?”

“We’re gonna need to deliver here.” Hen sighed, giving you the facts that terrified you. When you envisioned having the baby, it was in a medical centre. Not in a restaurant.

“My office is large and away from the crowd if you want. I can show you the way.” Sophie, the restaurant manager, offered already starting to lead the way. Sophie would never know how thankful you felt for being able to have privacy.

“Okay, Y/N, is it okay if I check how dilated you -.” Hen breathed with her hand, gently disappearing until the thin blanket Chimney procured from the stocked ambulance, “Y/N when I saw I want you to do that.”

Hen didn’t need to check your dilation when she could see the baby’s head already.

“I’m right here.” Buck cooed in your ear. He had held your hand as his coworkers did their jobs around you.

“This isn’t the way I envisioned you seeing my pu-”

“Push.” Hen urged, cutting off your almost vulgar language, but it eased the tension in the small restaurant office. You couldn’t even see Buck’s flustered reaction as you bore down with the contraction, “Good! Take a breath.”

“You’re a strong woman. It never ceases to amaze me the strength women have.” Buck spoke, keeping your e/c eyes on his blue ones. His hand raised to push a strand of your sweaty hair off your temple.

“Once more push!” Hen called out just in time with the last contraction. The feeling of the pressure between your legs popping was moan inducing.

Poppy was silent. Your entire body froze, yearning for the sweet sound of crying instead of the eerie silence. The world stood still as Chimney worked on your baby girl.

“Pulse is strong,” Chimney announced, keeping his attention on the task of clearing Poppy’s throat and nose. And that sweet sound of crying commenced, “Congratulations Y/N, you have a beautiful baby girl. Let’s get you to the hospital.”

Your father beat the ambulance to the nearest ER in pure anticipation at meeting his granddaughter Poppy Nash Gowan. He barely noticed as Buck stuck to your side like glue. Bobby waited outside the door as you got checked over in the room.

“Quite the first date.” You mused towards Buck, who hovered in awe over the life form you had carried for nine months. You’d been pregnant for three quarters of an entire year to his fascination.

“All my meaningful relationships started with a medical emergency.” Buck finally looked up at you. He’d kept Poppy company in the bassinet while you delivered the afterbirth upon entering the hospital.

“Seriously?”

“Had a tracheostomy on Valentine’s Day with Abby, an earthquake with Ali and a newscaster in a crashed helicopter.” Buck listed off. He hadn’t even noticed scooping the newborn into his arms until he’d sat in the chair by your bed, “Why not add a sudden labour and delivery.”

“He would have liked you.”

The sentence came out of absolutely nowhere. Almost like something had ripped it out of your vocal cords. At the look of confusion, you elaborated.

“Lucas. He would have liked you. I think if it is possible, he might have pushed me into meeting you. I’ll still need to take it slow, but I’d like to give this a shot.”

That was all Buck needed to lean in closer to kiss you—the first of many kisses.

Some might disagree on how quick your relationship with Buck developed, but they didn’t know yours at all. It was natural with the firefighter who stepped into the role of father figure for a growing Poppy. By the time Poppy was one, you’d moved into a house not far from your father’s place with Buck. By the time Poppy was three, a pretty ring had sat on your finger. By five, the young girl had a baby brother.

“Your parents spoil Poppy.”

“You say that like you didn’t crawl into her crib during her afternoon naps.” You deadpanned towards your husband. Buck had the nerve to sheepishly grin, “You give in each time she says ‘pwetty pwease’ for a cookie.”

“It’s a crime to make her sad!” Buck defended himself, but a grin of amusement threatened his act, “Besides, you crack each time too!”

“Mhm. Just wait until Theo can talk.” You pressed a kiss to the sleeping infant strapped into the baby carrier. Theodore Robert Buckley could fall asleep in a thunderstorm if he was in Buck’s arms.

“Oh! Maddie wants to have Poppy over for a play date. Madster’s been begging for her cousin to have a sleepover.”

Maddie and Chimney’s daughter was only a few months younger than your daughter, but the two were thick as thieves. Buck had referred to the Han daughter as Madster with how similar her mannerisms were to her mother.

“Think they’d take the rascal?”

“Is this code for you wanting to have another?” Buck questioned with a twinkle of mischief in his blue eyes. The same blue Theo had inherited along with a birthmark like Buck’s on his bicep.

“I-” You choked, blinking furiously, “Evan, I pushed Theo out of my body barely three months ago!”

Buck inconspicuously winked in response with the sudden scream of excitement coming from Poppy. The rambunctious five-year-old ploughed into Buck’s legs full force. Falling into the practised ease, you’d unstrapped Theo from Buck’s chest and promptly had his tiny body stolen into his grandpa’s arms.

“There’s my boy.” Bobby cooed to the sleep drunk tiny infant. The little baby is crowded by his Gram Athena and Aunt May, “Gonna have to get you a Minnesota Wilds jersey.”

“Hell no. That boy is LA born and bred. He’ll be wearing a Kings jersey like the civilized.” Michael announced with the sudden arrival of Theo and Poppy’s Uncle Harry.

“Mommy? When are we going to Stralia?” Poppy inquired from right beside your leg. Her tiny handheld is the giant one of her dad.

“In a few weeks. Are you excited to see the mommy’s old friends again?”

“Hm. Can we see Dada?”

Buck may be Poppy’s father, but he’d never let Poppy go without knowing she had two fathers in all. Her first one waiting to meet here decades from the time she was born and solely referenced Lucas as Dada. Buck was grateful for the man who brought Poppy into existence; the little green-eyed tot Buck could never regret. Unlike Buck’s parents keeping his older brother’s existence a secret, the firefighter refused to follow in their footsteps. He’d continue to shower the late Lucas in gratitude and respect. He refused to make the same mistakes as Phillip and Margaret Buckley.

“Of course. C’mon Poppy, time to say goodbye.” Buck guided the little girl to the extended family showering her little brother with love. The little girl was quickly swung into Bobby’s arms, and Athena cooing at your infant son.

Changes. The six-letter word doesn’t have to be terrifying. It can be breathtaking, memorable and beautiful to experience.

Tag List(s): (PLEASE SEND AN INBOX TO BE ADDED! I CANNOT GUARANTEE YOU WILL BE ON THE LIST VIA POST COMMENTS!)

9-1-1 Taglist:

@julessbrown

Julie and the Phantoms Taglist:

#evan buckley imagines #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley x fem!reader #evan buckley oneshot #911 imagines #911 oneshots #oliver stark #evan buck buckely #evan buckley x y/n #evan buckley x you #caitsy and ash productions

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caprica99 · 3 years

Text

Small Science <<< Merzost

Here I am thinking about Grishaverse again, more specifically the problem presented about Grisha power vs modern technology.

"The age of the Grisha power is coming to an end." (Book)

"When I was drafted, my sergeant schooled us about Grisha. He said we would win this war because one of them was worth 50 of us. Then the revolver pistol came in from the west, and I was told a Grisha was worth two dozen soldiers. When I lost half my company to the Fjerdans with a repeating rifle and one in ten of our casualties was Grisha, they said it was an acceptable ratio. How long before they are just as useless as the rest of us?" (Show)

We know modern firearms make Grisha less effective on the battlefield. Putting aside the enormous potential of the Materialki in the development of weaponry I think the next logical move would be the extensive study of the theory of merzost, and careful experimentation with it.

Merzost is not inherently evil, only Baghra sees it that way. It depends on the intent of the person who wields it. Aleksander wanted to create an army, but his many negative emotions influenced the outcome and later the nichevo'ya was created for self-defense.

But look at Ilya Morozov: he created three powerful amplifiers and brought his daughter back from death. (On a side note: why haven't Aleksander tried the same? It's a Fabrikator thing or what?) Every one of Ilya's endeavors succeeded in a way he wanted to. Ilya was able to perform controlled merzost, this makes him the most skilled Grisha in the world. I only read the first tome, did his alleged 'craziness' stem from his use of merzost or not? Because if not then with extensive study and great talent one can use merzost safely.

Aleksander is presented as the top authority on Grisha theory, I would think after 400 years he would have figured out what went wrong or at least had a few theories about it.

I think merzost is dangerous because we don't understand it yet. It's good because we fans can theorize about it, but it's really frustrating how none of the Grisha except a few experiment with it. Demon in the Woods showed us that a child is willing to kill her friend just for his amplifier bones, modern Grisha face kind of the same problem with developing technology. One would think a group of talented Grisha theorists (led by David) are hellbent on figuring merzost out for the sake of the Grisha race (especially with jurda parem in the equation). It would have been a brilliant subplot.

I just really can't believe that there is something more powerful than Small Science and Aleksander hasn't thought about creating the nichevo'ya sooner. I mean the Grisha and Ravka were in a losing position even before Alina came along, I'd expect Aleksander to at least start thinking about using merzost again. 400 years was enough time for him to learn and conduct experiments.

What are your opinions on the matter?

It's possible I got something wrong canon and headcanon tend to mix up in my head :-)))

#shadow & bone #the darkling #aleksander morozova #aleksander kirigan #sab worldbuilding #sab theorycrafting #merzost #small science #grishaverse #sab meta

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hacked-by-jake · 3 years

Text

Take you home ²

𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞...

>𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟷

Summary: Jake can’t accept that this has been done to you, the thought torments him, and all he wants is revenge, and he gets it.

Words: 4,2k

Genre: Angst / Fluff

Warnings: Swearing, insulting

A/n: Well, hi.

So, this one has taken on some dimensions again, they weren’t planned, about 3k. Now, it is a bit more. Actually, the whole thing should not be quite so extensive, but well, once Jake starts, he doesn’t stop.

Thank you alls so much for the support in part one, I was really surprised. And thank you very much for wishing Part Two, which means a lot to me. ❤️

So, that’s a bit more related to alternative two of part one. Actually, it was supposed to get a little darker and generally the plan was different. The ending should be different and longer, but I think it’s good as it is now.

I hope you’ll like it.

And apologize for the mistakes.

(I think I wanted to say more but I forgot xD)

Anyway, have fun, stay healthy and take care of yourselves.❤️🌹🎭

There lies the hacker now, in the early morning hours, not even the sun has risen already, wide awake, full of emotions and agitated.

In his arms, you, fortunately asleep, deep and firm.

He also wanted to sleep, he has been trying for two hours but it doesn’t work. And how should he? After the past hours it is practically impossible to sleep.

The only reason you sleep is probably the effort you had to experience. Your body was finished after the shower. You were still shivering from the adrenaline, agitated and yet so terribly tired.

So now he lies here, doesn’t know what to do with himself, doesn’t know how to react, how to feel. TThe pure fear that lay in your voice when the call came suddenly, gives him goose bumps again, crawling all over his body.

This fearful tone of your voice won’t let it go.

What if he hadn’t been there in time? If he hadn’t been able to save you in time? If it took him a minute longer? If something had gone wrong?

He can’t even imagine what could have happened. At this horrible imagination in his head, he pinches his eyes tightly. Try to remove the images from his head that make him sick, he would like to vomit, so horrible is the thought of it. He shakes his head, tries to drive away the thoughts, but they don’t go away. His fingernails drill deep and firmly into the skin of his palms. It hurts, it’s uncomfortable, and if he still squeezes even harder, he’ll start bleeding, but he has no control over it. In his mind, the worst scenarios circle and he can only imagine, if even he feel so bad now, how bad did you feel in this moment?

He controls himself to be quiet, exhorts himself to loosen up again so as not to wake you. You need sleep. You deserve sleep. But these pictures, these fucking pictures, they're not going away. The imagination that someone would touch you- NO!

The hacker opens his eyes wide! He must not go in this direction, he must look straight out and make sure that you get your revenge, as you deserve! That he protects your honor, that he makes everyone see what happens when someone wants to do something bad to you.

He’s Jake, one of the best hackers in the world and now he’s gonna show what he’s capable of.

His breath is so heavy, so full of anger and hatred, so full of negativity that he would like to hit the next wall.

He bites his lower lip when he thinks about leaving you here alone. He needs to be in his study. He just has to find out who this guy was. That bastard.

Just really reluctant, actually he would just like to lie here with you, but he has to, he's winds cautiously out of your embrace.

He can’t lie here and wait, he has to do something. Now!

Even if he feels weird with it, he opens the laptop that is in his bedroom and directs it so that he can see your sleeping shape. He will simply connect the laptop to his PC to keep an eye on you. As soon as you get restless or wake up, he could be with you right away.

That’s how he’s gonna do it.

He gives you a final and gentle kiss on the forehead before going to his study.

After he has prepared his work setup and everything is ready, he wastes no time and immediately gets to work. Quickly scan the data of the man who was tracking you.

Everything that had ever happened in his life, the hacker would find out now. And of course, the most important information is quickly obtained.

Name

Age

Date of birth

Address

All bank accounts

His social security number

Where he grew up

As what he works

What friends he has

With whom he is friends

His pets

On what elementary school he went

On what high school he went

Who his parents are

The siblings

All information about each individual family member

And at the very end, the police certificate of conduct with all the information who are important for him. And that’s more interesting than he thought. The further he read the information from the police, the more his emotional state changes.

It starts with drug abuse

Bodily injury in two cases

Insult

Gun possession

Domestic violence against his ex girlfriend

....

The list is shockingly long: a two-year stay in a prison, probation and community service.

The further Jake read, the more worried he is that he couldn’t have been there in time with bad luck. But he’s all the happier he could save you.

At the same time, he’s thinking about telling you who the guy is, because he doesn’t know how you’re gonna take this information. But he would worry more about that later.

As he glances at the laptop’s camera, a smile creeps up on his lips. Meanwhile, you are lying on his side of the bed, your arms are tightly wrapped around his pillow and your head is pressing into the soft fabric, as if you were looking for his proximity in your sleep.

How perfect can a person be? How perfect is this beautiful being lying in his bed? Immediately the tingling starts in his stomach, as always when it comes to you.

He’s so terribly in love. So insanely strong.

Again, he begins to regret that it has not progressed further between you. Everyone knows that he loves you, and everyone knows that you love him. And yet you both have not yet managed to finally do what you both so much want. But the fear of destroying everything is so great. You two spend so much time with each other, become best friends, best friends who feel more for each other than just friendship.

In addition, his fear of putting you in danger is added. He is not a simple man, no one who prefers a regular daily life, no fixed working hours, no fixed income, even if he earns more than most others. As a hacker you have one or the other possibility. Nevertheless, he is still wanted by the government. Not as strong, and the danger is not as great as it was a few months ago, but it still exists.

But last night’s incident somehow inspired him to think, and he feels different when he thinks about it. He wants you, he wants you with everything you have, he wants you by his side. He always wants to protect you, he always wants to be there for you, he wants you by his side, he doesn’t want to live alone in this apartment anymore. He doesn’t want to be alone anymore, he needs you, he has always done it and he will always need you, he wants you so bad!

This incident clearly shows that life is always uncertain, and this incident shows him that he is lying to himself. He wants to be able to say that you’re a couple, he wants it so badly. So fucking urgent.

"I want to share my life with you," the hacker murmurs, driving through his face with his hands. Now his thoughts have drifted in another direction again, but you’re just sitting in every corner of his mind. You are the biggest and most important part of his life and that since the first time you met.

But now something else is more important. After that, he can think of you a lot, but now revenge counts.

He breathes in and out again before turning back to the screens and begins to gather more information.

About half an hour later, he releases himself from his cramped posture. The further he delves into the life of the man, the more aggressive he becomes.

This guy’s not a petty criminal, the way he thought he was, this guy’s got dirt on him through and through.

And the further he reads, the more he wonders why this guy is on the loose and not in a maximum security prison.

From organized crime to gang activities. Drug dealing, counterfeit money, prositution. All the shit every gang is involved in.

Disgusting chat histories, images, threats of other people, extort protection money. And the hacker just assumed the guy is just a disgusting bastard. But he thought wrong.

And yet, it’s actually only good for him, really very good, because Jake has now a lot more options than he thought.

He thinks hard about how to proceed. How best to tackle this whole situation, so that he has the best chance of success.

But what’s also positive for is the fact that this guy really doesn’t deserve anything other than what the hacker’s up to.

To destroy a person’s whole life is actually nothing that he would do; he simply cannot reconcile this with his morality. Even if it’s about you, but now he’s not just doing it for you, he’s doing it for everyone. This is a favor he does to the whole society.

Oh and he’ll do it with pleasure.

Meanwhile, he has gained access to the man’s laptop and can take a closer look at the living room. He also got lucky and found some camera shots taken by a bakery that is on the street where you were being followed.

Unfortunately, it has no sound and yet it is more than enough. He saved the recording and censored you on it.You don’t have to be broadcast in video format all over the world.

But it is still clear that he's persecutes you. It is more bad than quite recognizable on the videos that he is angry and that he shouts something, but when you see the video, everything is explained by itself.

That was number one on his list.

Let's continue with point two.

And point two is a summary of all the information he could find that could even remotely involve anything criminal.

And this is a really long list, he can prove everything, he can prove every single point. With all the information that will help.

Videos, chats, pictures, recording of conversations. Locations, meeting places, other names.

Because his plan has changed, and it’s not just about destroying this man anymore, it’s about destroying all the criminals around him.

Point two, finish! Now, point three, and that’s the confrontation with the man.

The most important information is in front of him as he puts on his headset and leans back relaxed.

The recording program runs as soon as he turns on his microphone. The recording is automatically converted into the computer voice and then sent as a video along with his sign, the eye, as a gift to his new friend.

He puts one leg over the other and folds his arms in front of his chest.

"Hello Ted, my identity doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you’ve made some serious mistakes, and about this, I will teach you now."

And send.

Soon the man’s cell phone will start ringing, and it will only stop when he gets up and then listens to the hacker’s nice message on his laptop, which will breaking his little world in which he lives.

But it’s his own fault.

A look at the camera of his own laptop tells him that you still sleep quietly and calmly, which makes him happy. -

The ringing of the mobile phone and the terrible ringtone of the persecutor annoy the hacker so slowly. He didn’t think it would be that long before Ted wake up. But when it finally happens and a door is opened, a slightly arrogant grin appears on Jake’s face.

It’s Showtime.

"What the hell?" grumbles the sleepy guy as Jake makes the video file pop up.

The eye flickers on the screen and Ted skeptically approaches it.

He pulls back his desk chair and sits down.

"What the fuck?" he hisses angrily and pushes a button on the keyboard.

"Hello Ted, my identity doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you’ve made some serious mistakes, and about this, I will teach you now."

Amused and eager, Jake follows the course of the situation.

Ted becomes more and more hectic, the more facts the computer voice enumerates. He probably didn’t expect this to ever come to light. He wildly presses all the buttons he can find, tries to turn off the laptop but he has absolutely no control over it.

At the very end, after all the crimes have been enumerated, the computer voice informs him that he has video footage of his nocturnal activity.

"That was a big mistake, Ted, and it’s time you understood that you understand how unimportant you are in this world"

After Jake has decided to leave Ted alone, with the knowing that he can now say goodbye to his life as he knows it, he move on to point 4.

And point 4 involves sending all the information to everyone who can do something with it. But don't worry, that’s not the finale.

The finale will be something special.

Everything collected is sent first to the police in Duskwood. He doesn’t think much will happen, but the police will certainly not be the agency that will take care of Ted, in the end.

After the police, Jake sends the information to his place of work. He won’t be needing the job in a few hours anyway even longer.

Then his sister gets an e-mail with everything there is about her brother. Because Jake found out that poor girl always had to take care of him. Had to pick him out of the cell at night, had to pick him up of the hospital one or the other time and things like that. Among other things, good Ted broke into her apartment once, but this was not reported to the police. Jake saw in a chat that Ted promised to stop doing criminal things. This didn’t work out that way. The hacker feel sorry for the sister, she certainly doesn’t deserve it and yet this is about more than just that.

And after all the important people have received the information, he finally go to the final, which the hacker is most looking forward to before he can finally return to you.

Back to you, to his bed where you lie, this day can’t be more beautiful, can it?

Well, the morning show on TV sounds good, doesn’t it? The channel is littered with scandals and really unscrupulous means of getting attention.

No one will be angry with him if the actual broadcast is interrupted for a few minutes to do something good. And to appease his vengeance. All he has to do is fade in everything, play the video and the rest would come by itself. The spread on the Internet. The information is forwarded to other authorities like the State Police Authorities as it is about more than just the pursuit after revenge for his love. Gang crime is not liked by the state.

So then, curtain up, the final begins.

About half an hour later, now it is shortly before 9 in the morning, the whole took longer than he had expected, he sinks back on the soft mattress. Satisfaction spreads and seeing you sleep so peacefully also makes him tired.

Carefully he pulls the blanket over himself and then grabs again around your body to bring you back into his arms. He hides his head in your neck bend and a few moments he falls asleep with a smile on his face.

He couldn’t stop himself from posting some things on Ted’s Instagram page for his personal feeling. Pictures that Ted prefers not to watch for the Internet, but Jake doesn’t care; in a few hours, Ted will never have access to the Internet again. Hopefully Ted makes friends in prison fast, or it won’t be so funny for him.

Well, don’t mess with the hacker’s love.

----------

When you open your eyes, Jake still lies peacefully asleep beside you.

His hair stands wildly off his head and he has put his arms protective around you. Immediately a feeling of home spreads within you and you smile.

His body nestles warm against yours and you wish you could always wake up like that.

Bu, if you didn’t have to use the bathroom.

Carefully peel out from under his arms without waking him.

With leaving Jake’s arms and getting out of bed, the first pictures of last night immediately come back into your head. A few moments you stare at the wall before you shake your head. You don’t want to think about it. Actually, you never want to have to think about it again, you just want to forget it, focus on everything that’s more important now. And this is you, your feeling that you don’t want to get involved in this situation, you don’t want to leave room for this man. You don’t want him to have room in your life, and you don’t want to investigate any further. Actually, you don’t want to know who this guy is. You just want to focus on how lucky you were, that everything went well, that Jake saved you, and that nothing happened to you.

Jake!

You want to focus on Jake! And most importantly, that you finally want to be with him! He was there to save you right away. He was ready to help you immediately, he protected you, especially the way he protected you. The way he sounded, as if he was doing everything he could to save you. And this irrational fear that this could not work with you two, it’s bullshit! You want him with everything he has and you don’t want to be just friends anymore. You long for his lips, for his kisses that don’t just go on your forehead or cheek. You want to finally be able to say that you are a couple, you want him so badly, so damn badly.

Like a miracle cure, the thought of Jake really distracts you. You didn’t even know where your thoughts went, it just happened. But it always is, it’s just in every corner of your mind.

After you left the bathroom, you turned on the coffee machine. You’d stay awake and pass the time until Jake wakes up and you could have some breakfast. While the coffee is cooking, you drop down on the small sofa in the hacker’s living room and decide to pass the time with a little bit TV.

You switch through the channels looking for something interesting but don’t really find something you like.

When the Coffee machine gives you confirmation that the hot drink is ready, you quickly jump up and leave the remote control there.

While you prepare your coffee, you listen to an advertisement about an electronic toothbrush and then one about the latest vacuum cleaner.

With your cup you go back and then put a thin blanket from the sofa around your legs.

The News Show that you sometimes see starts broadcasting.

And you really expected a lot, really a lot, but you never expected what was actually going on.

While the news announcer reports on a gang crime, a picture is displayed. There’s a man to be seen, and you’re a thousand percent sure that’s the man who chased you yesterday.

Silently and with your mouth open you are listening as a whole gang was arrested, warehouses and factories were stormed. Drugs and counterfeit money were confiscated and in the end, how a hacker uncovered all this.

During the narration about hacking another channel and the materials shown there such as images and video, your heart begins to beat faster and faster.

And when it is shown what was published there, you put your hand infront your mouth in shock.

"Oh my-" you watch the camera shots where you can clearly see the street, which is only a few streets away from your apartment.

And then you see a censored shadow running, a few moments later a man.

You and the man who was now identified as Ted.

Jake.

That was Jake, you know it!

You don’t know how to react. While the pictures and videos scare you, since this man met you yesterday, you feel moved to tears on the other side. When the hell did he do that?

Did he do it because of you?

Where does he get so much information? Sure, he’s a hacker but THAT?

When the news anchor finally ends her post with the words "This man will probably never see the light of day again" and "The whole Internet speaks about this man and the victim who was persecuted by him. When you see this, we wish you all well!"

You have the feeling that you are breathing again for the first time. Like you’ve been holding your breath all this time without noticing.

You stutter at things, try to explain, sort out and understand your feelings. But somehow, just like last night, it’s too unreal.

"You shouldn’t know that in this way"

Startled you turn around as Jake’s sleepy voice appears behind you.

He's leaning in the door frame and yawns once.

With an open mouth you stare at him, "Did you-?" but you break off immediately because you have no idea what to say.

"Is everything okay? Shouldn’t I have do that? I wanted to tell you myself but now it’s too late. I wanted to teach you gently," explains the hacker, and his gaze slowly turns into a worried one.

"Did you- I mean- you were -" you stutter, can’t bring out a normal sentence. Point you to the TV, to you and back to Jake.

"I’m sorry, MC, I didn’t mean to hurt you or anything," he explains straight away." It was just, I don’t know, I was so mad! I still am! This disgusting bastard was following you, he-"quickly breaks off. His hands are clenched into fists, his eyebrows pulled together and his breath accelerated. However, he doesn’t want to remind you unnecessarily, even if that didn’t work out so well through the news. He really has to hold back from screaming completely and somehow making sure that Ted gets more than what he already has.

"No Jake, I-I" you just can’t find the right words and before you know it, you threw yourself awkwardly over the sofa, rolled over it and stood two steps later directly in front of Jake. Without control, you reach into his neck with one hand and pull his head down towards you. Not quite gently your lips hit on his.

And just as quickly as the kiss came about, you finish it as quickly.

"Oh, um, I... so.. I-" you laugh nervously, still holding his head. "Um, sorry?"

Jake also laughs nervously.

"I shouldn’t have done that," a little embarrassed, you let go of his neck and kick a few steps away from him.

"No, no, everything was fine, I thought it was great, so I mean-" a slight redness adorns Jake’s cheeks.

"Sorry" you mumble with a much too high voice and try yourself on a grin that probably looks like you’re in pain. Jake makes an waving off hand move, then it’s quiet between you for a moment. You chew on the inside of your cheek and let your foot slide across the floor in a semicircle, "Did you..- Did you say you thought it was great?" You ask as unimpressed as possible, as if it were a question about the weather.

Jake’s eyes grow big, "Did you find it bad?"

"No, no, of course not!" you assure him quickly." It was great, I would do it again and again."

You sigh.

Smiling, you put one hand to your forehead and look back at the hacker. Jake smiles too, and then you start laughing out loud. Until you have to hold your stomach and the first tears run out of your eyes.

"We’re so ridiculous," you chuckle, shaking your head over you two.

"Do you think?" Jake asks, grinning, "I find us great together"

"Me too" you agree and look back at him.

"Jake I-"

"MC I-"

At the same time you start to speak and then both of you are immediately silent to let the other go first.

"Do you first" you offer and he returns it to you.

"No, I’m fine, say what you wanted to say," you confirm.

"I can wait, you start"

You’re twisting her eyes again.

However, Jake understands this wrong and at the same time the magic words leave your lips "I love you"

Masterlist

And thank you @a-d-alison your submission gave me a lot of motivation🤭❤️

#duskwood #duskwood jake #duskwood mc #duskwood jake x mc #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood hacker #everbyte #everbyte studios #everbyte duskwood #everbyte game #duskwood game #duskwood everbyte #iamjake

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hellomynameisbisexual · 3 years

Text

Travis has had both boyfriends and girlfriends since high school. But when his coworkers discovered his dating history at a board game night, they told him he couldn’t be bisexual. “Bi men don’t exist,” they said. “You’re just a confused gay guy.” Travis, 34, had brought his girlfriend with him that night, but they started calling her his “roommate” after they found out he was bi.

Santiago got an even harsher reaction when he came out to his family. “‘Bisexual’ is just code for insincere gay man” is how he said one of his relatives reacted. “He didn’t use the term ‘gay man,’” 24-year-old Santiago told me, “but I won’t repeat slurs.”

In the past couple of months, I’ve heard dozens of stories like these from bisexual men who have had their sexual orientations invalidated by family members, friends, partners, and even strangers. Thomas was called a “fence-sitter” by a group of gay men at a bar. Shirodj was told that he was “just gay but not ready to come out of the closet.” Alexis had his bisexuality questioned by a lesbian teacher who he thought would be an ally. Many of these same men have been told that women are “all a little bi” or “secretly bi” but that men can only be gay or straight, nothing else.

In other words, bisexual men are like climate change: real but constantly denied.

A full 2% of men identified themselves as bisexual on a 2016 survey from the Centers for Disease Control, which means that there are at least three million bi guys in the United States alone—a number roughly equivalent to the population of Iowa. (On the same survey, 5.5% of women self-identified as bisexual, which comes out to roughly the same number of people as live in New Jersey.) The probability that an entire state’s worth of people would lie about being attracted to more than one gender is about as close to zero as you can get.

But the idea that only women can be bisexual is a persistent myth, one that has been decades in the making. And prejudice with such deep historical roots won’t disappear overnight.

👬👫👬👫

To understand why bisexual men are still being told that their sexual orientation doesn’t exist, we have to go back to the gay liberation movement of the late 1960s. That’s when Dr. H. Sharif “Herukhuti” Williams, a cultural studies scholar and co-editor of the anthology Recognize: The Voices of Bisexual Men, told me that male sexual fluidity got thrown under the bus in the name of gay rights—specifically white, upper-class gay rights.

“One of the byproducts of the gay liberation movement is this…solidifying of the [sexual] binary,” Herukhuti told me, citing the Harlem Renaissance of the 1920s as a pre-Stonewall period of relatively unstigmatized sexual fluidity.

Four decades later, the gay liberation movement created a new type of man—the “modern gay man,” Herukhuti calls him—who was both “different from and similar to” the straight man. As Jillian Weiss, now the executive director of the Transgender Legal Defense Fund, wrote in a 2003 review of this same history, “gays and lesbians campaigned for acceptance by suggesting that they were ‘just like you,’ but with the single (but extremely significant exception) of [having] partners of the same sex.” Under this framework, attraction to a single gender was the unifying glue between gay men, lesbians, and straight people—bisexual people were just “confused.”

Bisexual people realized that they would have to form groups and coalitions of their own if they wanted cultural acceptance. But just as bisexual activism was gaining a foothold in the 1980s, the AIDS crisis hit, and everything changed—especially for bisexual men.

“AIDS forced certain bisexual men out [of the closet], it forced a lot of bisexual men back in, and then it killed off a number of them,” longtime bisexual activist and author Ron Suresha told me.Those deaths hindered the development of male bisexual activism at a particularly critical moment. “A number of men who would have been involved and were involved in the early years of the bi movement died—and they died early and they died quickly,” bisexual writer Mike Syzmanski recalled.

The AIDS crisis also gave rise to one of the most pernicious and persistent stereotypes about bisexual men, namely that they are the “bridge” for HIV transmission between gay men and heterosexual women. As Brian Dodge, a public health researcher at Indiana University, told me, this is a “warped notion” that has “never been substantiated by any real data.” The CDC, too, has debunked the same myth in the specific context of U.S. black communities: No, black men on the “down low” are not primarily responsible for high rates of HIV among black women.

For decades, bisexual men have been portrayed—even within the LGBT community—as secretly gay, sexually confused vectors of disease.

In 2016, bisexual men are still feeling the effects of the virus and the misperceptions around it.

“We’re still underrepresented on the boards of almost all of the national bisexual organizations,” Suresha told me, referring to the fact that women occupy most of the key leadership positions in bisexual activism. And in a new, nationally representative study of attitudes toward bisexual people, Dodge and his research team found that 43% of respondents agreed —at least somewhat—with the statement: “People should be afraid to have sex with bisexual men because of HIV/STD risks.”

For decades, bisexual men have been portrayed—even within the LGBT community—as secretly gay, sexually confused vectors of disease. Is it any wonder that they are still fighting to shed that false image today? It’s hard to convince people that you exist when they barely see you as human.

👬👫👬👫

It’s not that bisexual women have it easy. Both bisexual men and women are much less likely than gay men and lesbians to be out of the closet, with only 28% telling Pew that most of the important people in their life know about their orientation. Collectively, bisexual people also have some of the worst mental health outcomes in the LGBT community and their risk of intimate partner violence is disturbingly high. Bisexual people also face discrimination within the LGBT community while fending off accusations that their orientation excludes non-binary genders. (In response, bisexual educator Robyn Ochs defines “bisexuality” as attraction to “people of more than one sex and/or gender” rather than just to “men and women.”)

And on top of these general problems, bisexual women are routinely hypersexualized, stereotyped as “sluts,” dismissed as “experimenting,” and harassed on dating apps. Their bisexuality is reduced to a spectacle or waved away as a “phase.”

But it is still bisexual men who seem to have their very existence questioned more often.

Suresha pointed me to a 2005 New York Times article with the headline “Straight, Gay, Or Lying? Bisexuality Revisited,” the fallout of which he saw as “a disaster for bi people.” The article reported on a new study “cast[ing] doubt on whether true bisexuality exists, at least in men.” The study in question measured the genital arousal of a small sample of men and found, as the Times summarized, that “three-quarters of the [bisexual male] group had arousal patterns identical to those of gay men; the rest were indistinguishable from heterosexuals.”

“It got repeated and repeated in all sorts of media,” Suresha recalled. “People reported it in news briefs on the radio, in print, in magazines, all over the place.”

As the National Gay and Lesbian Task Force noted in its response to the article, the original study had some clear methodological limitations—only 33 self-identified bisexual men were included and participants were recruited through “gay-oriented magazines”—but the Times went ahead and reported that the research “lends support to those who have long been skeptical that bisexuality is a distinct and stable sexual orientation.”

“Show me the quest for scientific proof that heterosexuality exists. It begins and ends with even just one person saying, ‘I’m straight.’” — Amy Andre, Huffington Post

The article fueled the devious narrative that male bisexuality was just homosexuality in disguise. The lived experiences of bisexual men don’t support that narrative—and neither does science—but its power comes from prejudice, not from solid evidence.

And unsurprisingly, the 2005 study’s conclusions did not survive the test of time. In fact, one of the co-authors of that study went on to co-author a 2011 study which found that “bisexual patterns of both subjective and genital arousal” did indeed occur among men. The New York Times Magazine later devoted a feature to the push for the 2011 study, briefly acknowledging the paper’s previous poor coverage. But many in the bisexual community were unimpressed that the scientific community was still being positioned as the authority on the existence of bisexual men.

“Show me the quest for scientific proof that heterosexuality exists,” Amy Andre wrote on the Huffington Post in response to the feature. “It begins and ends with even just one person saying, ‘I’m straight.’”

👬👫👬👫

One of the most tragic things about society’s refusal to accept bisexual men is that we don’t even know why it is still so vehement. Dodge believes that his new study offers some hints—the persistent and widespread endorsement of the HIV “bridge” myth is alarming—but he told me that he would need “more qualitative and more focused research” before he could definitively state that HIV stigma is the primary factor driving negative attitudes toward bisexual men. (Research in this area is indeed sorely lacking. The last major study on the subject prior to the survey Dodge’s team conducted was published in 2002.)

In the meantime, bisexual advocates have developed plenty of compelling theories, many of them focused on the dominance of traditional masculinity. For example, Herukhuti explained that “we live in a society in which boundaries between men are policed because of patriarchy and sexism.” Men are expected to be “kings of their kingdom”—not to share their domain.

“For men to bridge those boundaries with each other—the only way that we can conceive of that is in the sense that these are ‘non-men,’” Herukhuti told me, adding that, in a patriarchal society, gay men are indeed seen as “non-men.” The refusal to accept that men can be bisexual, then, is partly a refusal to accept that someone who is bisexual can even be a man.

Many of the bisexual men I interviewed endorsed this same hypothesis. Kevin, 25, told me that “it’s seen as really unmanly to be attracted to men.” Another Kevin, 26, added that “the core concept of masculinity doesn’t leave room for anything besides extremes.” Justin, in his mid 20s, said that “men are one way and gay men are another way [but] bisexual men are this weird middle ground.”

Our society doesn’t seem to do well with more than two—especially when so many still believe that there’s only one right way to be a man.

And Michael, 28, added that bisexual men are “symbolically dangerous”—a “big interior threat to hetero masculinity” because of a shared attraction to women. It’s easy for a straight guy to differentiate himself from the modern gay man, but how can he reassure himself that he is nothing like his bisexual counterpart?

The answer is obvious: He can equate male bisexuality with homosexuality.

The logic needed to balance that equation, Herukhuti explained to me, is disturbingly close to the racist, Jim Crow-era “one-drop rule,” which designated anyone with the slightest bit of African ancestry as black for legal purposes.

“For a male to have had any kind of same-sex sexual experience, they are automatically designated as gay, based on that one-drop rule,” Herukhuti said. “And that taints them.”

To see that logic at work, look no further than the state of HIV research, much of which still groups gay and bisexual men together as MSM, or men who have sex with men. Dodge, who specializes in the area of HIV/AIDS, explained that “when a man reports sexual activity with another man, that becomes the recorded mode of transmission and there’s no data reporting about female or other partners.” Bisexual men have their identities erased—literally—from the resulting data.

“A really easy way to fix this,” Dodge added, “would be to just create a separate surveillance category.”

But when it comes to categories, our society doesn’t seem to do well with more than two—especially when so many still believe that there’s only one right way to be a man.

👬👫👬👫

The situation of bisexual men is not hopeless. Slowly but surely, they are expanding the horizons of masculinity. The silver lining in Dodge’s study, for example, is that there has been a decided “‘shift’ in attitudes toward bisexual men and women from negative to more neutral in the general population” over the last decade or so, although negative attitudes toward bisexual men were still “significantly greater” than the negativity directed at their female peers.

“Put the champagne on the ice,” Dodge joked. “We’re no longer at the very bottom of the barrel but we’ve still got a ways to go.”

That distance will likely be shortened by a rising generation that is far more tolerant of sexual fluidity than their predecessors. Respondents to Dodge’s survey who were under age 25 had more positive attitudes toward bisexuality, perhaps because so many of them openly identify as LGBTQ themselves—some as bisexual, some as pansexual, and some refusing labels altogether.

That growing acceptance is starting to be reflected in movies and on television, once forms of media that were, and still often are, notoriously hostile to bisexual men. A character named Darryl came out as bisexual with a myth-busting song on Crazy Ex-Girlfriend and, as GLAAD recently noted, other shows like Shadowhunters and Black Sails are starting to do bi male representation right. The HBO comedy Insecure even made biphobia into a powerful storyline when one straight female character, Molly, shunned her love interest when he told her that he once had oral sex with a guy in a college. But other shows, like House of Cards, are still using a male character’s bisexuality as a way to accentuate his villainy.

Ultimately, bisexual men themselves will continue to be the most powerful force for changing hearts and minds. I asked each bisexual man I interviewed what he would want the world to know about his sexual orientation. Some wanted to clear up specific misconceptions but so many of them simply wanted people to acknowledge that male bisexuality is not fake.

“It’s important that bisexuality be acknowledged as real,” said Martyn, 30, adding that “there’s only so long someone can hold on to a part of themselves that seems invisible before it starts to make them doubt their own sense of self.”

“I am happy being bisexual and I’m not looking for an answer,” said Dan, 19. “I’m not trying things out, I’m not using this as a placeholder to discover my identity. This is who I am. And I love it.”

Samantha Allen is a reporter for Fusion’s Sex+Life vertical. She has a PhD in Women’s, Gender, and Sexuality Studies from Emory University and was the 2013 John Money Fellow at the Kinsey Institute. Before joining Fusion, she was a tech and health reporter for The Daily Beast.

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sandayuswife · 3 years

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hi it's me again. i'm in the middle of hanzo's act 1 so i didnt read your post to the end bc spoooilers but i still have a q about something he said.

i quote: "there was nothing to amuse me in my village. the boredom was terribly lonely".

is he lying to mc there? or does that mean he's just lonely and wants friends but thinks it's boredom he feels?

A very deep explanation for Hattori Masanari's boredom and loneliness

The answer is neither.

To make that clear, I think I should explain why Hanzo seeks entertainment all the time first, and the two reasons for his loneliness afterwards. Hanzo’s form of ASPD is very severe, meaning that so are his symptoms, one of which is a constant need for stimulation, and on the flip side – gnawing, sometimes unbearable boredom.

Simply put, there are two states of boredom a person with ASPD experiences. The ‘mild’ one is somehow comparable with that gnawing feeling when you are trying to relax, yet an important project due tomorrow is burning a hole in your head – only more intense, ever present, and void of fear of what happens if you don’t act on it.

Most of the time, it is easy to quell, but it requires constant stimulation, which makes your attention jump between hobbies, people, activities, duties – having ASPD makes it impossible to sit still.

However, sometimes (second state of boredom – a psychopath's literal hell, one could call it) the boredom is too extreme to bear. It might come up anyplace and anytime with seemingly no reason, and the worst part is that it is very difficult to control.

When that happens, no amount of stimulation – not even overstimulation – is enough to achieve momentary peace of mind. Things you love become boring, the most fascinating topics and activities become boring, you can't sleep; it makes you want to rip everything around you into pieces (not many actually do it, obviously, but the urge is there all the same), do something to make it stop. For some people, that boredom is so intense it even becomes physically painful.

The point is, Hanzo is not just very curious about how people react to this and that – his brain is hardwired to make him seek amusement and thrill all the time. Well, at least that’s the reality of ASPD – whether or not the authors know this is another question, because the majority of psychiatrists don’t know that, either.

As for why Hanzo used the word ‘lonely’ to describe his boredom – there are two reasons, I believe. The first one is that feeling it makes antisocials even more detached from their environment and society; it makes him realize he is completely and truly alone. The second one is that I’m pretty sure Hanzo unconsciously wishes for attention and emotional care – everyone does, whether or not they understand it.

Having conduct disorder and later ASPD means being completely detached from other people – having to study them like books, not being able to understand how and why they feel most of the time (depends on the EQ, but every antisocial still has to learn it), not being able to relate to their feelings. Obviously, that also means emotional bonds don’t come naturally to antisocials; whereas normal people can bond easily, antisocials don’t feel the need to, and don’t have an emotional base to build them on – and thus almost never do.

It might be difficult to imagine in Hanzo’s case, but he does wish to be loved and cared for just like any other human being does – it has nothing to do with boredom, however. The scene you’ve based your ask on is the one where Hanzo spoke of his lack of understanding of love to MC – he chose to do so because he wanted to keep her at his side, and knew he had to feed her emotional details to bind her; yet probably didn’t realize he would enjoy the attention and sympathy from MC (I wouldn’t say it was “soothing” for him – people with ASPD are generally not emotionally affected by most negative events in their past). Or maybe he did realize he enjoyed it after they spoke, which made MC more intriguing and interesting in his eyes – I may understand Hanzo, but I’m not a mind reader still xD.

There’s honestly so much more I could say and explain (man, I love analyzing, it’s really fun), so don’t hesitate to ask whatever you want to know. I hope I could help you understand :)

Greetings,

- A

#slbp #hattori hanzo #slbp hanzo #hattori masanari #voltage inc #samurai love ballad party #samurai love ballad

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bailey-reaper · 3 years

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How about a drabble of Barok serving as Klint's judicial assistant in his younger years, before he officially studies law to become a prosecutor? I like the idea of him becoming interested in and familiar with law from his brother. "Judicial Assistant van Zieks" has a certain ring to it.

Work Experience

Notes:

Oh that's a lovely idea, anon! I'd imagine that by the time he's promoted to 'Director of Prosecutions', Klint would most likely have been a very senior barrister known as a Q.C. ('Queen's Counsel'); they're also known colloquially as 'silks' because they 'take silk' (i.e. acquire a robe made of silk) upon attaining this lofty rank.

When a barrister becomes a silk/QC, they often only handle the most difficult (and expensive) work, but they will usually have a junior barrister assisting them (i.e. doing all the work, though I doubt Klint would conduct himself like that).

I can very much imagine Klint taking Barok as his junior and allowing himself to be 'led' by the latter. The term 'leading' basically means the barrister in charge of conducting the case where there's more than one involved.

Content Warnings: legal gubbins (that's the technical term btw... it's not); I take liberties with all things van Zieks, as usual...

──────≪⊰✥⊱≫───────

Klint's office was the very best place to study as far as Barok was concerned - the vast table in the centre of the room allowed him to spread his books out while the peaceful calm was greatly conducive to reflective reading. It was as good as, if not superior to, going to the university library. "Barok!" Klint said as he entered his room and shrugged out of his formal scarlet jacket, tossing it haphazardly on a coat rack, "What a pleasant surprise-- drink?" "Good afternoon brother," he looked up and nodded in greeting, "Mm, yes please. How was court?" "Fairly standard stuff," Klint sighed as he took two glasses and poured a measure of whiskey into each. Truth be told it was yet more of the depressing hypocrisy that grew ever-apparent to him day by day, but there was no need to sour a visit from his brother with such things. He set the glass down beside Barok and held up his own in a toasting gesture. Their glasses chimed melodically before both took a sip. Barok coughed a little, still unaccustomed to way whiskey punched the back of his throat when he swallowed it, "I imagine you were splendid, as always." "Oh?" Klint chuckled, his brother truly did worship him. Then, while he leaned against his desk, an idea came to him, "Hmmm! That's a thought..." "Huh?" "How about you take on a little work experience by my side, hm? I'm sure it would be fun to have you as my junior counsel for a while." "What? Really?" Barok looked simultaneously shocked and delighted, "I'd very much like to learn at your side, brother, I imagine there is much you could teach me about court etiquette and procedure!" "Then it's settled! I'll write to your professor and tell him you're to undertake a period of practical study beside me. After all, you're planning to become a prosecutor are you not?" he knew full well his brother intended to follow in his footsteps, which was incredibly flattering-- though he did have his reservations about what such a career might do to his darling brother's character. The younger nodded, "I should very much like to become a prosecutor." "Very good," he set his glass down and sat at his desk, taking a sheet of paper and his quill in hand, "We'll have that letter sent out today!" ──────≪⊰✥⊱≫─────── Barok had been to court many, many times but mostly to observe by way of the public gallery when safe to do so, or from a corner of the courtroom once he started being targeted due to Klint's ever-growing renown as the 'bane of criminals'. This, however, was on an entirely different scale: today he would be assisting with the proceedings -- a participant rather than a spectator. "You look nervous," Klint remarked as he stood beside his younger brother. "What... what do you mean?" "Your eyes," he said, chuckling behind his fist, "They're darting all over the place like a furtive rabbit's" "....O.. Oh..." he took a deep breath and shook his head, "I... didn't sleep much last night, my mind seemed to want to go over the case details again and again." "Mmmm, I had forgotten how it felt to be quite that nervous in court... still, it's good you feel that unsettled sense in the pit of your stomach. One should never be blasé about standing in this sombre hall of justice. It should always create a sense of disquiet, that is how you know you yet hold the essence of what it means to be an officer of the court," Klint took a glass and a decanter from under the bench and filled it with a small measure, "But, here, it doesn't hurt to settle your nerves." "Is that... whiskey?!" Barok uttered. "Yes, go on, for your nerves, little brother." He took a sip as directed, and choked again; still not used to that fiery punch in his throat, "T...thank you." Suddenly there were three loud knocks at the door followed by the court clerk's booming voice: "All persons who have anything to do before my Lords - the Queen's Justices - at the Central Criminal Court, draw near and give your attendance. God Save the Queen!" the clerk bowed to the judge then took a seat in the corner so as to record a transcript of the proceedings.

The Judge sat down, "In the name of her Majesty, Queen Victoria, I declare this court to be in session. God Save the Queen," the middle-aged man, whose hair was starting to fail him, though it was hidden under his white wig, cast his gaze over the persons in attendance, "Lord van Zieks, I see the prosecution has a junior member today." "Correct, my lord," Klint replied with a smile, "This is my younger brother, Barok, he desires to become a prosecutor, so I thought it only proper for him to accompany me on a few excursions so as to get a feel for the thing." "Quite right and very good," the Judge nodded, "I bid you welcome, young man, I hope you will learn much from your older brother, he is a skilled prosecutor and an invaluable asset to this court." "Y... Yes sir!" Barok said, standing straight to attention. Klint chuckled before placing a hand over his heart and bowing, "Thank you, my Lord, you honour me." "Now, Counsel, your opening statement, if you please." "With pleasure, my Lord..." ──────≪⊰✥⊱≫─────── Barok dutifully passed evidence and case notes to his brother as the case progressed, while also taking notes of things that struck him as important in terms of procedure, witness testimony and the general way in which matters progressed. He also made a few notes on Klint's control of the courtroom and general demeanour; the way he eloquently developed his arguments and appealed to the Jury with a seemingly effortless, poetic grace. It was a true masterclass in courtroom conduct and he longed to commit every second of it to his memory so that he might mimic his brother's style in the future. "I already told ya!" snapped the witness in the box, "I ain't never had nothin' to do with the gobshite!" Klint sighed while removing a handsome goblet, fashioned from silver and crystal, from under the bench and filling it with a measure of whiskey, "I'm going to overlook your use of a double negative, no doubt you'd have no sense of what that actually means, and presume that you're trying to deny all knowledge of the accused." "Double wot?" "Never mind all that, " Klint took a sip, startling Barok-- was his brother drinking in court?! The Judge didn't seem remotely bothered by it, in fact no one said a word. Did he do this often?? His brother continued, "You say you don't know that man in the dock." "That's right!" "Are you sure about that?" "W-Wot?! Why'd you keep askin' me that?! If you got somethin' to say about it then say it!" the witness looked flustered and vaguely guilty to Barok's untrained eye. "I'll do better than that," Klint said, setting his goblet down, "I'll show that you're lying to me, to this court and these fine men and women of the jury." "... U..urk..." the witness bit their bottom lip, "Yer lyin'! There ain't no proof to be had!" "I don't play games of bluff, good sir. Like any lawyer worth his salt: when I assert, I go on to prove what I'm saying," he held up a document, "Do you know what this is?" ".... Looks like a bit'o paper..." "It's a contract, signed between you and the accused. A... 'gentlemans' agreement of goods and for services rendered –– you, sir, would receive the stolen property from the accused and his associates, then sell it on for them via your Pawnbrokery!" "W-Whaaaaat?!" the witness recoiled, "W...Where'd you get that?!" "It was well hidden, I'll give you that," Klint replied with a smile, "But not well enough to escape my notice. You're as involved in this intricate criminal fencing enterprise as the accused!" The court descended into a shocked furor... ──────≪⊰✥⊱≫─────── "I think this is a good place to adjourn proceedings for today," the Judge observed after the breakdown of the witness, "Bailiff, have that man arrested and handed over to the Yard so he can answer questions about his involvement in this sordid affair!" The bailiff did as ordered and apprehended the witness.

"Thank you to both Counsel's, and our young junior, for their assistance today. We shall continue again first thing on Monday. Court is adjourned!" the Judge rose, nodding to the courtroom once before leaving.

Klint turned to his little brother and grinned, "Well? How was your first real day in court, brother?" "It... it was amazing!" Barok replied, eyes practically twinkling, "I was so awed by your performance! You truly are an exceptional legal mind and practitioner, brother!" He laughed, "Stop it... you'll make me blush!" "It's true! Though, I must say... I had no idea one could drink in court or kick the prosecutor's bench... those were most flamboyant and striking displays!" "Most people can't," Klint conceded, "But, well, it seems I have a flair for the dramatic. It must run in the blood... Our lord father was a similarly passionate man when it came to matters of court –– even when he occupied the bench as a Law Lord. Many a lawyer would refer to him as 'Good Lord Kicking' behind his back!" he laughed at the thought. "Wow... really?!" "Yes, really!"

#klint van zieks #barok van zieks #request

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thesunwillshineonusagain757 · 3 years

Text

𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒

This is the third part in the series, where I put my headcanons about Rhaegar Targaryen, and about his personality. This came as an idea from a post from @dragonstemper . So yeah let’s get this started…

𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬

Rhaegar has a unique perspective and vigorous intellect, often losing himself in his thoughts and own world inside his mind, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, hardly ever stops thinking. From the moment he wakes up, Rhaegar's mind buzzes with ideas, questions, and insights. At times, he may even find himself conducting full-fledged debates in his own head. Imaginative and curious, Rhaegar Targaryen can find endless fascination in the workings of his own mind. So sometimes on his own, with no interruptions, is what gives him the greatest feeling of happiness.

Any stress or daily worries shed from his mind, giving him an amount of time to focus on what he really cares about: deep, complex thoughts that he can analyse and synthesize into entirely new concepts, that brings Rhaegar a deep feeling of joy and fulfilment. Although Rhaegar can be quite content with just his ideas, books being the greatest catalyst in order to initiate it. Books about science, and philosophy or even how to cook the best omelet, or maybe even a romance book about Jenny of Oldstones. Either way, the book has to carry him away to a point, where the next fascinating thought comes into the next grand idea.

Rhaegar has a very reserved nature, so he likes to stay indoors , sitting in the library reading books and debating ideas. But he found that he also has a particular liking for going outside, it helps him to connect with the world and other people. It was easy for him to skip things and isolate himself, and not think about the surrounding people ( in particular his father and his tantrums and episodes of craziness ) . He found comfort in his loneliness, yet he found going outside especially with his children helped him feel better.

In his life he had lived with people who are very negative ( such as HIS FATHER ) so he also found that avoiding him the most was a blessing for his mental health and happiness, of course he could be honest and tell Aerys to stop being so negative or confronting him because he knew dire consequences would follow, so he just avoided his father all together.

New ideas, bring Rhaegar Joy. Some grand possibility opening up to him, paving a new path to truth and meaning. A spark of curiosity and he goes into his realm of familiarity, searching for conceptual precision, piqued by a word or thought, and when Rhaegar arrives at an answer and conclusion that makes sense to him, he places it gently in his framework of truth like a delicate feather dangling from a spider’s web, liable to be blown away at the slightest wind that his storm of new possibility. He is terribly happy to go on thought journeys, even with the people he loves . It gives him an overflowing feeling of pure joy.

Now happiness, to Rhaegar comes a lot from the feeling fulfilment, and a friend to share in the crazy in the way to go. Rhaegar doesn't consider himself crazy ( as you know cough cough you know who ) but he has very particular things he likes and thinks about, that to outsiders, and people that don't know about what he is talking can sound crazy, a whole lot of crazy. So sharing his thoughts and particular wondering points brings him a lot of fulfilment, he can go on and on for hours discussing and debating about his areas of interest.

The best-case scenario would be if it takes no effort , if he ever found someone who is already on the same page as he is. Someone with whom he can talk has the same wave level of loco as he does. Someone to listen to his thoughts and theories and discuss the ideas and discoveries and latest findings. Furthermore, someone to agree, validate and debate with him! But most importantly of all, listen without judgement and engage him without fear of social consequences.

But why? Simple, because all he wants it's an individual with mutual understanding that nothing in this life is even real, much less fathomable or truly tangible. Something to unites him and this individual or group of individuals in a way that means everything is up for discussion. This unity provides him with a sense of camaraderie, something Rhaegar forgets to acknowledge sometimes, that he needs this will bring him a spirit of true fulfilment.

Summarizing: A few hours alone with an interesting book. People might say no man is an island, but Rhaegar feels ' with himself' when he has a nice chunk of solitude and can stretch his intellectual muscles during that time without any interruptions from the outside world. And also some people with whom he can discuss those books. The man is not demanding, he just needs a book club.

𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐑𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄, 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 ?

Rhaegar is someone who struggles with showing kindness, he had his mother Rhaella as an example of warmth in his own way. She thought to him that love only grows by sharing, but she was also very sad, and grief stricken for good reasons, she lost a lot of babies and her husband was a psychopathic maniac, so yeah showing kindness wasn’t easy, so he didn’t have many good examples that stuck with him about being kind. Unkind, selfish, and inconsiderate were most of the things that Rhaegar learned from his father, and from most of the surrounding people, he was the prince, but he could see the shallowness of their actions. It was almost certain that he would turn out as fucked up as his father, but he didn’t.

Most people thought that for him to be kind, he needed to make kindness his most important way of doing things. But he came to be kind and helpful, but the thing is that he doesn’t see fit to be kind and show kindness to those who he isn’t sure deserve it. It also would be worth mentioning that Rhaegar has promised himself never to be, like his father, to never have that erratic behaviour, to not be envious, jealous, suspicious, and violent, to not be prone to furious outbursts. So kindness could be somewhat of a handicap. He can be prone to over-giving to the people closest to his heart, in things such as self-sacrifice, and other actions that might be deleterious to him and his health. He is a very mature person so poor value judgment doesn't often happen to say it even happens with Rhaegar, so he would never expose himself to ruthless individuals, but over giving to those who have his trust and love before thinking of his own health might happen.

Rhaegar will show his empathy and kindness, the fact that Rhaegar is very emotionally and intellectually deep makes his act to be very significant. So that's why he shows empathy when he concerns himself, and understands the feeling like your pain others feel, on a very deep level he might not show it much, but he feels intense emotion just not too outwardly. So in the same breath that Rhaegar will be very calm, he will be taking it all in, almost in a sombre sober way, but somehow he lets people know that he gets it, and he understands profoundly the essence of what the pain or uneasy feeling others around him experience.

The dragon prince shows his empathy with the soothing, feeling his understanding and sympathy bring the people he is close to. He is a shoulder to cry on. Even if Rhaegar in the situation in question remains calm while trying to understand the feelings from people around him. It's like he hits people with a tsunami of understanding, most of it is underwater and not displayed outwardly, but there is a tremendous depth, because he'll be there by the people he has closest to his heart, as he deals with their feelings and turmoil.

Summarizing: Rhaegar’s kindness is not given easily, and it’s not given to everyone, only to those close to his heart, but when given to an individual it comes as understanding. Understanding free of judgement, and helping to solve problems and turmoil, or soothing and comforting when the problem presents itself as pain, anything to make these people feel understood and valued .

𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 :

Rhaegar's happiness comes from very reserved activities, his mind always races with thought so to relax he will read a book about space, magic, romance, and keep it to himself to recharge his energy. The dragon prince’s kindness comes from him trying to understand people around him, understanding their turmoil, problems, doubts, likes, dislikes, likes, he shows his empathy and kindness by understanding.

───── ⟨ 𝐑𝐓 ⟩ ─────

So what do you guys think of it @rhaelyas @dragonstemper @aerltarg @vivacissimx @imaginaryvane @valaenarhaegarovna @rhaegar-and-lyanna @rhaegarxlyanna @lorelei-4 @rhaelyanna @intheairwewilllookmonstrous

#dragon feelings #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #got #asoiaf #house stargaryen #house targaryen #prince rhaegar targaryen #rhaegar targayen #rhaelya #a character study #valyrian scrolls #valyrianscrolls #headcanons #rhaelya headcanons

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acrylicqueen · 3 years

Text

My Version of FNAF Canon

(a.k.a. my attempt at cleaning up the FNAF timeline) FNAF’s canon is messy and confusing, and I personally think the story would be better if the series ended with FNAF3 like Scott had originally intended. So, a few days ago, I wrote up a revised version of the story and explained every detail so it is all easily understood. You can read the revised story/timeline of events underneath the read more!

Characters:

Henry Emily

Original Founder of Fazbear Entertainment

Friendly and approachable. A family man despite being a single parent. Harbors big aspirations and is determined to stick to them. Has a tendency to get in a little over his head; has so many ideas that they all tend to muddle together and become confusing. Despite this, he is very professional. A HARD worker.

William Afton

Co-founder of Fazbear Entertainment

Founder of Afton Robotics

Manipulative and controlling. Narcissistic; possibly a megalomaniac. Has a habit of taking advantage of others for personal gain. Incredibly fake in earnest, but good at pretending to be a genuine person. Bad temper. Highly intelligent and sly, which makes him appear rather charming to most people.

Timeline:

Early 1970s

Henry has an idea for a kid's pizza restaurant utilizing animatronics and arcade games as entertainment.

He employs an old friend of his, William Afton, as his business partner. He becomes the co-founder of the company Henry's creating.

Working together, Henry and William found Fazbear Entertainment and in-turn Afton Robotics.

Henry and William create the restaurant's animatronics, Fredbear and Spring Bonnie, and open their first location, "Fredbear's Family Diner." While they both design the animatronics, William builds them.

Late 1970s

Restaurant is successful and groundbreaking

After a few years of being open, to make the restaurant more exciting, Henry and William design new animatronics to be displayed alongside Fredbear and Bonnie. These new animatronics are Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, and Foxy (what would later become their withered variants)

With an added aura of confidence due to building these new and more technologically advanced animatronics, William wants to take the company in a direction Henry isn't fond of; William is trying to take control of the company too much for Henry's liking

Eventually Henry fires William

Fuming, William files a lawsuit on Fazbear Entertainment, claiming he is the rightful owner of the physical animatronics. Since he built them he believes he is entitled to their copyright

William loses the lawsuit because when he forfeited the animatronics over to Fazbear Entertainment, technically Henry became the owner of them

Because of being fired and the result of the lawsuit, William is left penniless and disgraced

William grows to resent Henry and the Fazbear Entertainment company because not only did the company ruin him, but he also he believes it's not fair he helped the company become successful only to be fired and kicked off the team

William wants to get revenge, so he vows to figure out a way to ruin the company's reputation while also getting "even" with Henry for dropping him as a business partner

William takes his revenge to the extreme when he decides to murder Henry's daughter, Charlotte, outside of Fredbear's Family Diner in an act of vindictiveness and self-importance

Charlotte possesses the Security Puppet, binding her spirit to all future versions of the Puppet as well

Henry is devastated and the company takes a massive blow when the public finds out Fredbear's Family Diner is now linked to a child's murder

Henry closes Fredbear's down until further notice due to his grief and the negative reception from the public

Meanwhile, William gets away with his crime, no one even suspecting him since he dropped off the public radar after the lawsuit

Mid-Late 1980s (1985-1987) (FNAF 2)

Henry is being dogged by investors of Fazbear Entertainment to rekindle the restaurant

Feeling backed into a corner, Henry agrees to make a new version of Fredbear's Family Diner, which he renames "Freddy Fazbear's Pizza."

Henry makes new animatronics for the restaurant himself. He dubs these the "Toy" animatronics. Toy Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, and Foxy (+ a new version of The Puppet, "The Marionette")

Henry equips these new animatronics with special facial scanners to detect potential criminals in the restaurant. The animatronics identify these criminals through a database. Henry is determined to have this restaurant be safer than his last attempt.

Note: This restaurant is most likely when the company began using the spring lock suits. Therefore, the safe rooms for bleeding out are located in THIS location specifically. This may have been a suggestion and action from investors, as I can't see Henry making this reckless idea up.

The restaurant opens to mixed reception. This new restaurant is in a different city than Fredbear's. Henry made this decision mostly to help his mental health.

Eventually, Freddy Fazbear's Pizza becomes just as popular, if not more so, than Fredbear's Family Diner. Kids ADORE adore the restaurant for the characters, games, and prizes, and adults can appreciate the groundbreaking technology that goes into the animatronics.

Despite still being the owner of Fazbear Entertainment, Henry attempts to distance himself from holding a strong management role. He's still traumatized by the brutal death of his daughter.

William, noticing that Fazbear Entertainment is becoming successful again even after the crime he committed, becomes enraged.

Still doing poorly mentally and financially because of his termination from the company, William realizes that in order to truly tarnish the reputation of Fazbear Entertainment for good, he's going to have to hatch a new plan (William is truly a vindictive bastard)

Note: William tries so hard to ruin the company because not only did it put him out financially, which essentially ruined his life, but it wronged him personally, and since he's so narcissistic he believes people shouldn't be able to get away with doing him wrong. This is most likely not his first experience with breaking the law/doing something truly horrible.

Under the alias 'Fritz Smith' William applies for a job at the new location, landing a position as a day-worker and part-time night guard

William changes his appearance slightly just in case anyone recognizes him from Fredbear's

Considering the fact Henry is trying to distance himself from the new restaurant, he doesn't notice William (posing as a different person) is now working at Freddy's

Note: The animatronics begin to act strangely toward the staff of the restaurant after William gets a job there because Charlotte (inside The Marionette) can sense that an evil presence is within the building now. Therefore, the animatronics start to act aggressively toward all adult figures (considering Charlotte mostly remembers that the murderer is an adult.)

For a while, William works a normal job at the restaurant, getting close to the patrons and other staff members. He takes this time to study the inner workings of the company.

He's seen as a slightly odd, but generally well-meaning individual (and a pretty good worker too!)

After about a year or so William finally puts his plan into motion, using one of the old animatronic suits to lure five children into the backroom and murder them, just as he had done to Charlotte (maybe he does this on a day he's supposed to have off in order to have an alibi. Takes the day off and then sneaks into work anyway)

He finds great satisfaction in this and ends up having quite a bit of fun committing the crime. It reminds him of the catharsis he felt back when he murdered Charlotte.

(As an added bonus 🙂) William takes each corpse and shoves them into spare animatronic suits in the backroom closet for someone to discover later. He then cleans himself up and promptly flees the scene of the crime, lying in wait for what will happen next.

Charlotte's spirit, now residing inside of The Marionette, gives life to the dead children by allowing them to possess the animatronic they were each stuffed into. This permanently binds their souls to any and all past and future versions of that character. (So technically each child is possessing EVERY iteration of their respectful animatronic. Ex: The child stuffed inside of Freddy is haunting Fredbear, Withered Freddy, Toy Freddy, Regular Freddy, Etc.)

Note: The childrens' bodies were most likely stuffed inside the Withered animatronics. William probably figured it would take people a bit to check those specific models, which would give him enough time to prepare for the fallout that would occur when they were found.

With the disappearance of five children at the restaurant, an investigation is launched. The staff plans to have the restaurant closed for only a few days so the police can conduct it.

As expected, the corpses of the children are found during the investigation and the restaurant is promptly closed

After being cleaned out, the restaurant holds one final birthday party before shutting down to allow for further investigation into the crime

With these five murders, the animatronics are sent into a frenzy, acting more aggressive than ever and generally not working right

During the last birthday party, Jeremy Fitzgerald, the night guard that was instructed to work the dayshift, is attacked by one of the animatronics, resulting in the "Bite of '87". He survives, but with the loss of his frontal lobe he loses cognitive abilities and all motor skills.

Note: You may ask "Why'd Fazbear Entertainment agree to still do the birthday party even though they literally just found five childrens' corpses in the building?" Money, duh. The managers don't want to miss out on a sale, and they CERTAINLY don't want to have to refund parents for the party.

This is the final nail in the coffin for the restaurant, so it's completely shut down, the future of the company unknown.

The murders of the five children and the Bite of '87 completely tank the reputation of the restaurant, and the tragedy is all over the news.

Henry is left in utter disbelief and turmoil after the incident. Unable to deal with everything, he makes the decision to sell Fazbear Entertainment, completely cutting ties with the company.

Meanwhile, William sits back, satisfied with the fact that he was successfully able to achieve what he set out to do.

Early 1990s (1993?) (FNAF 1)

The Fazbear Entertainment company is in limbo for a while after the incidents. The FNAF2 location is left to rot.

The investigations into the murders of the five children culminated in the wrongful arrest and detainment of another Freddy's employee. Therefore, William has remained innocent.

However, as the years have passed, William has begun to be haunted by the spirits of the five children.

He decides that in order to get *them to stop bothering him, he'll break into the rotting Freddy's location and completely dismantle the animatronics, effectively destroying their vessels and hopefully causing the spirits to be destroyed along with them.

*This doesn't necessarily have to be the actual spirits of the children. It could also be an inkling of William's conscious seeping through and torturing him about the crimes he committed.

William does this and during the dismantling process is ambushed by the five spirits, scaring him into the safe room and causing him to hide in an abandoned Spring Bonnie costume lying on the ground.

This is where the spring locks release and kill him inside the suit, as seen in the FNAF3 mini games.

Now that William is finally dead, the spirits believe they can pass on, but what they aren't aware of is that being killed in the Spring Bonnie suit has now fused William's spirit with it. Therefore, he is not truly dead.

Mid-Late 1990s (FNAF 1)

The people that purchased the Fazbear Entertainment company from Henry decided to once again try and revitalize the company, still seeing great potential in it despite the tragedies that took place. (They want their money!)

They decide to turn the restaurant into more of a chain.

They salvage some parts from the old FNAF2 location, board up the safe rooms inside the building, and use the parts they find to remake the animatronic characters.

(Q: Why do they board up the safe rooms?

A: Considering these people technically still own the old FNAF2 building, I would imagine they would like to keep it around for potential other locations in the future. Therefore, they don't want anyone easily breaking into the building and screwing things up, so they just board up any and all entrances, doorways, etc.

Q: Why did they decide to do this now? Why not earlier? The building was just sitting there, so why hadn't they boarded it up sooner?

A: Up until this point the people that own Fazbear Entertainment now weren't planning on doing ANYTHING with these old locations. They had no plans, so why would they need to make sure that one of the old locations doesn't get vandalized? They only start caring now because the building is finally a potential way to make a profit.)

These characters are cheaply made and look like a significant downgrade from the Toy animatronics (considering they weren't made by William or Henry)

Most of everything in the new restaurant is dingier and cheaper than the past two locations because the new owners of the company care more about money than quality, unlike Henry.

Since William's spirit lives on inside the Spring Bonnie suit, the children's souls are unable to pass on, so even these new animatronics continue to act strangely and attempt to attack the night guard.

This continues until this new location is shut down as well for health violations. The place is a mess, the pizza is nasty, and families are complaining that the animatronic characters are glitchy, smell awful, and seem to be leaking "what appears to be blood and mucus."

~2017 (FNAF 3)

Far in the future, the Fazbear's Fright horror attraction is made to capitalize on the infamous Freddy Fazbear's Pizza "rumors"

William, now possessing Spring Bonnie, is found by Fazbear's Fright while they scavenge through the old FNAF1 location

He is placed into the horror attraction after he is salvaged.

Influenced by his remaining bitterness toward anything Fazbear Entertainment related, plus the animalistic nature he processes while inhabiting Springtrap, he attempts to attack and kill the night guard of Fazbear's Fright

After a week, the Fazbear's Fright building catches fire and burns down. Springtrap burns with the building and, with his vessel destroyed, William's spirit is sent to Hell. It's currently debated on whether or not the fire was caused by an outside party, or by the faulty wiring and ventilation in the old building.

Note: It's quite possible Henry found out about the horror attraction and burnt the building down himself, attempting to end all things related to the seemingly cursed franchise once and for all. This might have been an act of catharsis for him, almost like he's finally letting go of the past.

With William officially gone, the spirits of the six kids he murdered can properly pass on.

#five night's at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf1 #fnaf2 #fnaf3 #springtrap #william afton #purple guy #henry emily #script revision #story revision #story rewrite #drabbles

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