#even though they had guardians their parents trusted them with who were already taking care of them

[neunhofferart]

did kenji ever get legally adopted by the bowmans? cus chaos theory kind of made me think otherwise and it was just like a family friend situation. but he must've been since he doesn't have a guardian

I don't think they did? They certainly gave him a home though.

I do think it's possible he could have petitioned a court to become a legally emancipated minor instead (given his unique father in prison situation, the money situation at the end of Camp, and his older age).

I think a lot of stuff like this was kept intentionally vague so the writers/viewers wouldn't be bogged down with tons of legal logistics though.

[brotherslayer]

How the hell does Derrick have so much authority over Penelope? Something I never understood was how it was possible that Derrick, being only the eldest brother, could grant harsh punishments such as feeding his younger sister bread and water or restricting her mobility, without even consulting his father, the Duke. Clearly they have given me more power than a simple brother should have in my opinion, I am an only child so I don't know much about sibling dynamics, but it seems strange to me that Derrick has more influence in Penelope's life than her own father at the point. That when she is arrested, he is the one who goes to visit her. Don't you think that in a situation like this the legal guardian should go?

what is an elder brother if not a second absent father? From the start Derrick seemed to me more like an abusive guardian than an elder brother. His actions towards Penelope were never those of a brother towards a sister. Their relationship was not sibling like. In a similar manner I don't view Reynold and Derrick's relationship as very brotherly. It might have been different once. Before Ivonne disappeared. He helped Reynold and Ivonne sneak out to visit the festival, didn't he? Disobeying his father, that doesn't sound like something the Derrick we know would do. But something in Derrick must have changed after he lost his little sister and made him crave control.

Their relationship would be more comparable to a guardian and ward. I hesitate to call it parentification, because Derrick absolutely did not meet the emotional needs of Reynold and Penelope (he probably barely interacted with Penelope) but I do think he took to some degree care of Reynold in a way their father failed them. I believe he had to grow up too early and that his childhood was cut short given the fact that he had to be prepared to become the next head of the Eckart duchy and their father had likely fallen into a depression after experiencing the loss of his most treasured child. Perhaps Derrick wanted to share his father's burden and offered to take on some of his tasks. Such tasks may have also included looking after the children that the duke was neglecting over his grief at Ivonne's disappearance. Making sure Reynold doesn't stray away from the right path and gets in trouble, being in charge of punishments for minor offenses that he considers too unimportant to bother his father about, ironing out his mistakes, overseeing his education, budgeting etc. You can see where I'm going with this: Derrrick was a person of authority in Reynold's life (hc). And I think that's how he became easily a person of authority in Penelope's life as well. If Derrick did his role so well with Reynold then this could explain why the Duke entrusted him with Penelope. Though I suspect that most often the Duke had no idea what kind of punishments Derrick was handing out to Penelope. I can imagine that at the start Derrick was asking his father for permission for every little thing that eventually the Duke just handed a share of his power over to Derrick. And when he noticed that Derrick acted independently he found that it had a positive impact on their family interests, which caused him to have a little bit too much trust in Derrick's judgement without checking.

Unusual circumstances forced Derrick into the role of the little Duke to support his father and unconsciously everyone around him started to get used to it. Derrick gaining more power over his siblings than he should have wasn't seen as something weird, because he was a precocius child and already preparing to follow into his father's footsteps as the next Duke anyway. Everyone else was so busy searching for Ivonne or offering their condolences, they had forgotten completely that they still had two other children in the house which were in need of parental care.

In my opinion part of the reason had to do with their father's mental state and inability to act as a guardian, part was Derrick's overqualification in certain fields that made people trust him to take on tasks that they would not have given other kids his age typically, part was that his status as the Eckart heir lifted him above his siblings and he would enjoy certain privileges that were connected to serious responsibilities in the future that neither of his siblings would have to fullfill. I think Penelope's gender also played a major role given that they were living in a patriarchy where the domination of women through their male relatives and spouses was normalized. The story is set in a historically western inspired world but the author herself is Korean. It is possible that some Confucian ideas of filial piety still made it into the text.

Lastly there was the underlying idea that Penelope had to prove herself worthy of the Eckart name. If Derrick's treatment of her was that of a master to his servant or a noble to a commoner instead of a brother to his sister or a nobleman to a noblewoman then it was condoned because no one viewed Penelope as an Eckart except for her stepfather. The staff acted under the assumption that Penelope was living there temporary and would be thrown away once the true lady had returned. Even if some of them had objections they were in no position to voice them. Only very few would intervene in other people's family affairs.

As for why Derrick went to visit Penelope in prison instead of his father: plot related reasons. Love interests are generally given more screentime than side characters such as parents. Penelope's situation also wouldn't have looked that bleak if instead of her brother her father had come. Unlike Derrick the Duke would have shown that he cared. Besides the scene of Penelope trapped behind bars was important, it was meant to parallel the bird in the cage that Derrick gifted her and would serve as a hint that Derrick's desire for Penelope was dark and possessive.

I can also imagine that their father was doing paperwork, looking for a good lawyer or meeting with influencial people and trying to negotiate better conditions for Penelope in the meantime.

[softquietsteadylove]

Me again! I am once again humbly requesting more of the family law au. Anything you wanna do with the story, I know anything you write will be amazing

Thena looked up as a small body plunked down onto the bench next to her. She looked back at the courtroom door, but the child had appeared from elsewhere. "Hello."

The child sniffled.

She looked around them, but court was in recess, currently. "Where is your guardian?"

The kid shrugged.

She could simply ignore the child. She wasn't a bailiff or authority, she was only in court to close a case of her own, it was signatures in front of the judge. But she recognised the deep hunch in her shoulders and the way her feet kicked idly hanging off the edge of the bench. "I know you have one. Kids aren't allowed to just walk into courtrooms alone."

The kid looked around; she couldn't have been older than twelve. "My parents are talking to a lawyer, but I left."

How did a kid walk out and no one noticed? Thena frowned, "who was watching you?"

"My dad's new wife."

Ah, an unwanted stepmother; Thena angled herself toward the young girl. "Hm, the lawyer speaking with your parents, is he...big?"

She looked up at Thena, her face betraying the vulnerability her body language was trying to hide. "Really big."

Thena couldn't help but smile. There was no more way effective way to describe Gil. "Trust me, he looks scary, but he's actually quite nice."

The girl looked back down at her lap again. "I dunno."

If her parents were speaking with Gil, it was some sort of family issue. Divorce - and to some extent, custody - was her specialty, but Gil handled plenty to do with family settlements and custody issues. He didn't always get to see families on their best day.

Thena rethought her approach. She undid her suit jacket and put her arm up on the back of the bench. "My youngest sister is around your age. She also hates talking."

The girl giggled, just a little. "I don't hate talking."

"Well," Thena paused and shrugged strategically. "Tell me why you're here today."

The kid sighed, seeming even more like Sprite. "My dad's new wife wants us to stay at their new house for his weekends with us. But it's really far away, and they only have one bedroom for me and my sister to share."

As much as she was listening to the child, her mind couldn't help but think that - professionally speaking - it didn't sound suitable for at least one preteen, if not two. "Are you parents discussing this now?--where you and your sister should go, that is?"

She nodded, sniffling again. "They got a little nicer with each other after the divorce. But now all they're doing is yelling again."

Thena bobbed her head slowly to show her understanding. The poor child had been through this already and was now reliving the struggle of an ugly custody hearing. "And do you remember what they were saying?"

The girl made a face, scrunching her small features. "I had to go with my dad's new wife when they started yelling. My sister is still in there, though. They were talking about 'confidence' or something."

So, the sister was older. Even more of a reason that the girls sharing a room would be unfavourable. "Competence--it means they want to know who's the better parent."

She looked up at Thena again, even sadder than before. "I like both my parents. I just don't wanna live an hour away every weekend!"

"Okay, okay, all right, sh," Thena attempted to comfort the girl (which had never been her specialty). She patted her back as the poor thing loudly hiccuped and sniffled up her excess snot. "Can I tell you something?"

Children enjoyed knowing secrets.

The girl nodded.

Thena sighed. It went against all her personal rules against disclosing her personal life, family situation, getting close with people in a professional setting. But she sucked it up, as Sprite would say. "I've had to prove my competence before, when I signed up to take care of my sisters."

"You take care of your sisters?" she asked, although she didn't seem so incredibly astounded.

"One is 16, although it feels like she's turning 20," Thena laughed faintly, and at least the girl smiled. It was the kind of thing a parent would say, much to her dread. But she continued. "I told you the other is around your age, she just turned 13 in the spring."

"How old are you?"

She ignored that question. "I had to prove I could take care of them, like a parent would, although I didn't really know how. But do you know what helped?"

She shook her head.

"Hearing from them," Thena said more gently. It seemed a revelation to the girl that someone might listen to her. "They said they wanted to stay with me. That I would take good care of them, and I swore I would. And I've tried my best, even if I'm not perfect. I get things wrong sometimes, like getting them to school late or forgetting about projects they have."

"What do you do?"

"I try again," she shrugged, and if anything the girl seemed to appreciate her honesty. "Because someone who's going to look after you only wants what's best for you. What's important is if you're safe, and taken care of and comfortable. If you're happy, and doing well in school, or with your friends. The person who's going to take care of you will care about that even if it means you're far away."

Something seemed to dawn on the girl. Although Thena didn't want to sway her opinion any, it would seem her assumption that the husband was not doing his due diligence was correct. Or perhaps the wife was pushing too hard for her new role in his children's lives. Either way, if the girls were best off with their mother, it was more than clear to the client, now.

"Thanks," she smiled at Thena, her shoulders un-hunching faintly. "I'll tell my sister that."

Perhaps the older one could communicate that to the parents. It sounded like the parents were a few precarious steps away from hiring individual lawyers for each of their sides as opposed to using one. But Thena regarded the girl, labelling her 'her client' in her mind. And it was her job to keep her client's best interest at heart.

"There you are!"

Thena looked up, catching Gil jogging over to them. She stood out of habit, holding her coat over her arm. "Mister Gilgamesh."

"Hey," he smiled at her before looking down at the girl. "What's the deal, we turned around and you were gone."

The mother and father immediately began berating the daughter for running off. Thena caught Gil's eye aside from the family. She leaned closer, "my client has some concerns about the pending custody battle."

"Oh," Gil blinked, looking from the girl and back to her. He smiled, showing off the charming and warm temperament that made him so popular, especially with families. "She does, does she?"

They drifted further from the family having their own discussion. Thena eyed Gil, who looked both exhausted and also a whole pot of coffee deep. "How is it?"

He angled himself closer to her and away from the family. "It's getting ugly, and I don't know what I can do to stop it. They're ready to hire their own custody lawyers."

Thena also peeked over at them cautiously. The girl was accepting her berating, although when the father's wife appeared over his shoulder she looked away, taking on a more defensive stance again. She really did remind her of Sprite. "Let the girls talk."

"What?"

She shifted on her feet. It was Gil's case, and she had no real right to get involved, even if it did cross into her expertise. She whispered, "let the girls speak. If nothing else, it should sway the parents enough for them to come to a decision."

Gil made a face, crossing his arms. It pulled his suit jacket to the point of strain; ridiculously thick arms, he had. "Or it could be the drop that makes the dam burst."

Thena shook her head though. "It won't. Those girls know the best place for themselves, and I believe the parents do too. Let the girls state what they want. The parents will respond to their needs and settle."

He gave her a peculiar look, and she couldn't fault him for it. She usually didn't offer personal perspectives on cases. She worked solely and completely on evidence, maybe sometimes on how a judge might regard something. But she didn't give personal opinions. "How do you know?"

Thena looked at the family again. The father patted both his daughters on the shoulder as the bailiff ushered them back to where they had been discussing things during the recess. She looked at Gil. "I just do."

Gil didn't look at the family again. He focused entirely on her, unfolding his arms, slipping his hands into his pockets and raising an eyebrow slightly. But he nodded, "okay."

"That's it?"

He shrugged, furthering the rumpling of his suit, entirely by his own doing. "I trust you. If you say the family will settle, I believe you. I'll ask for the kids to talk."

She smiled, genuinely relieved at the idea of the young girl's feelings being heard. Maybe there was something to how Gil made all of his cases personal. "I think it will be best for everyone."

"So, uh," Gil finally did just barely glance over his shoulder as they started walking back as well. "What'd you say to her?"

Thena pursed her lips. "Not much of anything, truly. The girl is quite competent for her age. All she needs is to be heard."

Gil chuckled.

"What?"

"Nothing," he laughed now, furthering her scrutiny. He shrugged, "you're great with kids, which I guess I should have expected."

"I would not say that."

"You just demonstrated it."

"You didn't see it happen."

"You literally have kids."

"I am not a mother," she argued, and it was true, even as a defense of herself. "She's around Sprite's age, and I recall when Sprite first got into her phase of wanting to shout at the world but not wanting anyone to look at her, either."

"See?" Gil gesticulated with his hand before rolling his shoulders to correct his suit jacket (it did not). "You're a natural."

That was not what the courts thought when she was going through her own proceedings a matter of years ago. But she smiled, giving his poor suit jacket a tug here and there to get it to sit right on him again. Why was he so ridiculously well built for a family lawyer? "Your clients await."

He gave her a more grateful smile as she brushed her hand over his lapel. "Thanks--hey, I'll make sure your client gets her fair say."

She waved him off as he went back to his meeting, and then the proceeding hearing. Technically she didn't have any reason to linger--it wasn't her case. But she sat herself down on the bench outside of the main courtroom doors again, pulling out her phone.

Can I go see that new gangster movie with sersi and her friends?

She would never understand Sprite's obsession with foreign, violent gangster action comedies. But she sighed. She had been poised to say no, that she would pick them up from their free roaming at the mall (which she only allowed them when she had court dates anyway). But she resigned herself to her decision.

That's fine, I'm still at court anyway. But don't stuff yourself on movie snacks, you still have to eat at home

With that, she slipped her phone away again, staring ahead at the elevators opposite her bench of solitude. It was silly to wait. She could ask Gil about it later if she was so concerned. It was inappropriate. It wasn't her case.

Then she would think of how Sprite had tearily asked if she and Sersi would be put in some stranger's house. She would think of that little girl who had sat right down next to her, and she thought of Gil, nervously pacing outside before even she had arrived for her earlier hearing time. He had been poring over this case all week.

Maybe she should do something for him if the case went well--and if it didn't go well, in all honesty.

Thanks thee btw can gil come and cook again it was soooo good

Thena swiped the notification away, decidedly ignoring the leading question. It was nothing but entrapment; as sweet as it was that her sisters had grown a fondness for Gilgamesh, she didn't need them reading too much into her relationship with her colleague.

No matter how amazing his lasagne was, and how often she had thought about it in the past week.

[tracingpatternswrites]

The Patchwork of Us | Chapter Two

Chapter two of The Patchwork of Us is now up and it's time for parents' evening at Teddy's school. Doesn't that sound like a fun and relaxing night for everyone involved?

Start from the beginning here or have a little snippet from chapter two below the cut.

Remus stepped out of the shower, drying himself of quickly before tossing the towel in the hamper and making his way out of the bathroom. He had slept badly, nightmares keeping him awake again, and he wanted nothing more than to go straight back to bed and pull the duvet up over his head. He couldn’t do that though, he had barely two hours before he had to be at Teddy’s school for parents’ evening.

He definitely wasn’t looking forward to it, but he had already decided he was going to be there. It wasn’t like the thought of making up some excuse hadn’t crossed his mind, but he would show up, if nothing else to prove to Sirius that he was to be trusted. More importantly, he had promised Teddy and he was set on not disappointing him.

He knew it was going to be awkward though. Not moving around from teacher to teacher and listen to Teddy’s progress, that would be the easy part. No, the awkward thing would be to do it together with Sirius. They had both been invited by the school to participate; Remus because he was Teddy’s father and legal guardian, and Sirius because he was the person the school knew, the one who Teddy lived with and the one who paid the tuition.

Okay, maybe that last one wasn’t a reason why Sirius had been invited but Remus wouldn’t put it past the stupid school.

He opened his wardrobe to stare at the shirts hanging there, scrubbing a hand over his face with a sigh. He didn’t know why he bothered, nothing he owned was going to be good enough anyway. He got dressed quickly, picking a light blue button-down shirt and a pair of dark trousers, throwing himself a quick glance in the mirror.

He looked about as awake as he felt, which wasn’t boding well for an evening of work. Remus had taken up a job as an Uber driver in the past few months, finding that spending his nights driving around London suited him. Sure, sometimes his clients were annoying, or drunk, or both, but Remus had learnt how to handle them.

The best thing about it was that he could decide when and how he worked. He had never been very successful at holding down a job, and he never finished his University degree. He struggled with keeping his focus, and he had learnt a long time ago that he couldn’t control when the darkness came knocking, and more importantly, that there was nothing he could do about it.

He had never quite managed to keep his anxiety under control. It had been bad ever since he was a child, ever since The Incident, as Remus had taken to call it in his mind. He had good periods and bad periods, but somehow the bad periods always seemed to catch up with him, which had been one of the reasons he hadn’t wanted children in the first place.

Remus could barely take care of himself, so how was he supposed to take care of a child? He had no-one to ask for advice, no-one who could answer his many questions or listen to his worries when it came to Teddy. No-one, unless you counted Sirius, and Remus did absolutely not count Sirius.

Remus grabbed his phone to check the time and he immediately saw the new notification, and he felt a little flutter in his chest.

He had been wrong, he did have someone he could ask. 

Someone who had been there for him and who had listened to him again and again over the past couple of years. Probably the person who knew him the best, the only one he had ever gotten close to telling about his past, about his anxiety, the nightmares that plagued him.

Remus thought it should feel strange, to tell a perfect stranger on the Internet intimate details about himself, but for some reason it didn’t.

Continue on AO3.

[canonicallyobserving911]

Buck & Eddie: Buck, Chris, Chimney and Denny

In 6x13 “Mixed Feelings” both Buck’s relationship with Chris and Chimney’s relationship with Denny were shown and the differences between Buck’s role in Chris’ life and Chimney’s role in Denny’s life were clearly distinguished.  It’s been mentioned several times in CANON the 118 is a found family and everyone helps and cares for each other.  They attend celebrations together and everyone supports one another especially when one of them is hurt but even though they are a found family, there are also separate family units within it.  Those individual family units include the Grant-Nash (Bathena), Wilson (Henren), Buckley-Han (Madney) and the Buckley-Diaz (Buddie) families.

Chris and Denny are friends and their parents are part of the 118′s found family. Eddie is Chris’ biological father and he named Buck to be Chris’ legal guardian in his will but Buck’s been a second dad to Chris for years.  Hen and Karen are Denny’s mothers and Chimney is Hen’s best friend.  He introduced Hen and Karen and they adopted Denny not long after he was born.

Buck is Chris’ other dad and he’s like an uncle to Denny while Chimney is more of an uncle to Denny and he will become Chris’ uncle after Buck and Eddie get married.  The above GIFs illustrate the roles they’ve played in both boys’ lives over the years.

GIFs 1 & 2: Whenever the 118 gather for a celebration, Chris and Denny are usually together.  In 3x18 “What’s Next?” they helped blow out the candles on May’s graduation cake and in 5x10 “Wrapped in Red” after Hen and Denny arrived, he ran over to hangout with Chris.

GIFs 3 & 4: In 3x10 “Christmas Spirit” Buck gave Chris a Christmas present while they were next to the pinball machine inside of the firehouse. It’s important because the 118 had to work on Christmas Day and Chris was upset with Eddie because of it, so he asked Buck if he could spend Christmas with him. Chris asked Buck the question the same way a child would ask their parent for permission to do something when the other parent has already said no.  This was an example of the Good Cop vs. Bad Cop parenting dynamic between Buck and Eddie.  In order for everyone to have the opportunity to spend the holiday together, Buck worked with Athena to organize a family dinner for the 118 and it was held inside of the firehouse.

Both boys were sitting at the coffee table making gingerbread houses with Buck while Hen and Eddie were sitting at Eddie’s dining room table but Chimney wasn’t present.

In 2x4 “Stuck”, Chimney placed some of the firehoses on the floor so Chris could reach the pinball machine. Chris spent the day at the firehouse because after Eddie’s abuela broke her hip, Eddie didn’t have permanent childcare but Buck called Bobby to let him know Eddie might have to bring Chris to work with him.  All of the 118 helped care for Chris that day but it was Buck who contacted Carla to help Eddie obtain permanent childcare.

GIFs 5 & 6: In 3x2 “Sink or Swim” Buck and Chris spent time on the pier playing games, eating cotton candy and riding rides before the Tsunami hit.  At the time Buck was off work because he quit after he had an embolism during his welcome back to the 118 party.

To cheer him up, Eddie took Chris to Buck’s loft to spend the day with him and the day after the Tsunami, Eddie took Chris back to Buck’s loft and said, “There’s nobody in this world I trust with my son more than you”.

In 6x8 “9-1-1 What’s Your Fantasy?” Buck went to the Renaissance Faire with Hen and Denny but even though he was there with them, the way he interacted with Denny was the way an uncle would act. Hen and Buck are like brother and sister, therefore Buck’s role in Denny’s life is similar to Chimney’s role, they’re like Denny’s uncles.

GIFs 7 & 8: When Chris got upset with Eddie in 4x8 “Breaking Point” he ordered an Uber so he could leave the house but he didn’t tell Eddie where he was going.  He could have gone to Isabel’s or Pepa’s but instead, he had the Uber driver take him to Buck’s loft.  In 6x9 “Red Flag” Denny asked his mothers about his biological parents and after they gave him some information about them, he left to find his biological father on his own.  He didn’t tell either of his moms where he was going and he didn’t call Chimney or anyone else to ask for help.  This is one of the big differences between the role Buck plays in Chris’ life when compared to the role Chimney plays in Denny’s life because they both ran to their other parents, i.e., Chris went to Buck’s loft and Denny went to Nathaniel’s house.

GIFs 9 & 10:  In 6x11 “In Another Life” when Buck was in a coma, Chris insisted Carla take him to the hospital so he could see him. When Eddie saw them, he reminded Chris kids weren’t allowed in the ICU but Chris said he didn’t care.  Carla distracted the nurse so Eddie could take Chris into the room to visit with Buck and when he got inside, he stood beside Buck’s bed and told him he had to come back. He talked to Buck the same way a child would talk to their parent.

After Buck woke up, he hugged Chris the same way a parent would hug their child after having been gone and the child was worried about them.  Both Hen and Chimney were in Buck’s hospital room with the rest of the 118 but Denny wasn’t which further illustrates the different role Buck plays in both boys’ lives.

In 2x13 “Fight or Flight” after Chimney came out of surgery, Chris was sitting by his bedside and when Chimney woke up, Chris talked with him like he was an uncle.  He told Chimney he heard he had another surgery.  Chris was younger then but he didn’t react to Chimney being in the hospital the way he reacted to Buck being in the hospital in 6x11.

GIFs 11 & 12:  In 6x13, Chimney arrived at the Wilson home to pick up Hen and Denny because Hen’s car broke down and Karen had a meeting in Barstow. Chimney sat on the porch and talked with Denny and their conversation revolved around both of their fathers. After Hen came outside, they all got up and walked away but even though they walked away together, based on the conversation Chimney had with Denny, his role in Denny’s life was shown to be that of an uncle.  

In 2x13, Hen told the 118 a story about the first time Chimney babysat Denny. She explained how he gathered information about the different ways to help a baby fall asleep, therefore he’s been involved in Denny’s life since he was a baby.  But his role in Denny’s life is that of an uncle since he’s one of his mom’s best friends and he’s also a good friend to his other mom too.

Buck and Chris were preparing to bake cookies so Chris could take them to school the next day and their activity of cooking together is something a parent does with their child.  Chimney knows how to cook but he has never been shown baking cookies or anything else with Denny and Buck’s never cooked anything with Denny either.

After 6x13, the roles Buck and Chimney play in both boys’ lives should no longer require an explanation because the show made it clear who’s been coparenting Chris with Eddie and they also showed Chimney’s role in Denny’s life too.  Buck is Chris’ second dad and he’s like an uncle to Denny while Chimney is like an uncle to both boys.

[rising-volteccers]

Would you consider doing a kidnapping fic? Where Friede gets caught by Spinel and has to wait for the others to rescue him?

Well after working on this on and off for the past week, it's finally done! I had fun writing it so I hope it'll be an enjoyable read! I envision this to be a what if scene between HZ016 and HZ017.

Series: Pokemon Horizons

Characters: Friede, Spinel, Mollie, Murdock

--

Distantly, Friede wondered what crimes he committed in a past life to earn himself this Arceus damned awful day. 

His working memory might be poor but he did recall how the day started. After they docked the Brave Asagi on the outskirts of Mesagoza, each of them split up to cover more grounds with their resupply efforts. They were heading off to the Galar region, and while it was a considerably shorter trip from Kanto to Paldea, any trip that involved them crossing the ocean required their supplies to be topped up. The last thing they wanted was, in the event of an emergency, for them to run out of essentials far away from civilization. 

With the recent excitement of Liko’s disappearance still fresh on their mind, it was decided that the kids were to remain on board for today. Murdock, Orla and himself would do the resupply run. Friede trusted in Orla and Murdock’s ability to fend for themselves if something were to happen, though he hoped it won’t come down to it.

Really, what were the chances of trouble brewing so soon after the last crisis? 

(He would come to regret thinking that).

Friede’s task was to pick up the potions and other similar medication Mollie required from the Pokemon Centre. She already called and placed the order in advance so it was a simple matter of picking it up. He soon left the red-roofed building with a medium sized box filled with various bottles. Friede knew to be careful when carrying such fragile items lest Mollie would be very displeased with him. 

He planned on at least heading towards the city gates before releasing his trusty Charizard. Having more space to spread his wings led to a smoother take-off, thus reducing his chances of spilling any of the potions. Just as he spotted the large archway exiting the city, he paused in his steps from the sudden light tug of his jacket.

Looking down, Friede found a young girl looking up at him with large, brown doe eyes. He easily fixed a kind smile even as he tried to subtly search for her guardians. 

“Hello there lil miss. Are your parents around?” he asked, adopting a gentle tone.

“Mister mister, can you help?” she responded instead in that high pitched voice kids her age were capable of reaching. Before Friede could question further, she pointed at an alleyway off to the side. “My Meowth got spooked and ran in there. I think he’s hiding behind some stuff but I can’t reach him.”

While his smile never faltered, inwardly he was mildly surprised at the request. The whole setting seemed… odd. Friede didn’t see anyone who looked like they were missing a kid, not to mention no one seemed bothered that a girl this young went up to a complete stranger asking for help. He supposed that Meowth could be a family pet and was accompany this girl. Still, it didn’t sit right with him.

“Mister pretty please help with a cherry on top?” The girl tugged at his jacket a bit more urgently, her eyes welling up with her bottom lip wobbling. Briefly, an instinctive panic filled him at the thought that a kid was about to cry on him.

“I’ll help, don’t worry! We’ll get your Meowth back in no time,” he agreed, swallowing down the mild panic and the rest of this strange feeling. It never really faded as he followed her towards the alleyway in question. 

The alley stretched far back till it got blocked off by a wall. Several boxes littered one side while a large bin was laid out by the wall. Friede supposed that between the two, it was likely that the Meowth got stuck within the bin, out of sight from the girl who barely reached his stomach. 

“Meowth? Meowth come out please. We gotta head back before mommy gets worried!” she called out while Friede placed down the box of potions. He passed the boxes and made a beeline towards the large bin, unaware of the eyes that trekked his every move. 

Seeing that the lid was partially closed, Friede pushed it open so he could peer in. 

He didn’t find a Meowth. What he found instead were multi colored lights that swirled in an odd, rhythmic pattern. 

That was the last thing he properly recalled before his world faded into darkness. Well, he still remained within it when consciousness trickled back in. The fog in his head lifted quickly upon realizing his current predicament.

Namely, the fact that he was seated with his arms and legs restrained. His hands were tied uncomfortably behind his back with bindings keeping his legs in place to the chair. A blindfold covered his open eyes, and he could only grunt and breathe harshly through the duck tape over his mouth. 

Initially he struggled, trying to wiggle himself out of the rope but soon surrendered to the evidence that it was too tight. Then his mind went into overdrive. Everything pointed to the undeniable fact that he was tricked into getting kidnapped. 

At first he went through a whole slew of questions. Who kidnapped him? What was the reason behind it? Where was he taken to? How long has it been since then? Did his crew knew of his disappearance? 

Once Friede managed to wrestle his thoughts together, his mind quickly whirled to those multi colored lights he saw before he (presumably) fell unconscious. Oh, it couldn’t be–

“I see you’re awake now, Professor.” Friede tensed up the moment an affable voice spoke up somewhere in front of him. “I hope you don’t mind the way I brought you here. It was far too easy to appeal to your helpful nature that it’s a little boring, I must say. Very predictable.”

Appeal to his–? Oh, the chilling realization hit him like he dunked his head in ice water.

“Don’t worry, she has no memory of the instructed task,” they replied, casually admitting to having hypnotized a young child into luring him towards a trap. Then again, Friede had no doubts now on the identity of his kidnapper. 

He jerked in his chair, briefly tugging at his restraints before settling again. Friede released a harsh breath through his nose, throat strained from the sounds he made behind the tape. He was showing his anger one way or another.

“Right, I suppose speaking is difficult for you right now.” 

With the rest of his senses restricted, his hearing became far more sensitive to the sound of approaching footsteps, the soft squeak of leather making him tense with each step. A finger started to scratch at the top left corner of the tape. He felt the fingertips that grabbed hold of said corner, and without any warning the tape was yanked off his mouth. 

Friede winced, both from the sharp pain and the loud sound of tape being ripped from flesh seemingly echoed around him. 

“There, that should–”

“You’re sick. How could you tamper with a child’s memories like that? She was younger than her," Friede hissed out, anger swiftly burning within him. Fury was better than fear at the moment, so he held onto it even as the cadence of his heart elevated from the sudden grasp of his chin.

"Mouthy aren't you? Haven't you heard about utilizing the tools around you? She did her part and she's now safely returned with her parents. I can't fathom where this undue anger is coming from." No shred of remorse was in their tone. The even, clinical way they compared a child to a tool sickened him.

To actually hear the voice of a person who had zero hesitation in having his Pokemon attack defenseless children added layers to the muted horror he felt when he listened to Liko's tale the first time. How simply they threatened to wipe the memories of the kids present on that ship. 

Friede could have gone off about that. The anger writhing inside him demanded that he do something to wipe the smile he could hear in their voice. Unfortunately for him, the rational bit left within him yanked back the impulse to throw his body forward, chair and all, in the hopes of at least pinning them down with the combined weight. 

He didn't know whether this person was alone or had their Pokemon with them. At least a Magneton and Beheeyem judging from their last encounter. That person with the Bisharp had acted as bait to lure him away, likely ordered by his kidnapper or had been an unfortunate victim of mind tampering too. 

This person was dangerous, that Friede could not deny. Being trapped and restrained left him utterly powerless. Who knew what this person was capable of had Friede chosen to be uncooperative. 

So he held his tongue from the hot spew of vitriol, swallowing down his anger to at least ground out a "What do you want from me?" in a somewhat neutral tone.

"Me? I just wanted a proper chat with the illustrious leader of the Rising Volt Tacklers," they replied. From the faint scraping noise, he presumed that the other took a seat in front of him.

"Really? Last time you were awfully shy by ordering your mons remotely. Wasn't too keen on that guy you sent too." Was it smart to be sarcastic at a time like this? Perhaps not but the words slipped out of his mouth before his brain comprehended it.

"Oh that? It was simple data collection. It was rather disappointing until you terastalized your Charizard. Even I couldn't predict it to have a Dark Tera Type." 

"Oh I'm sorry for not putting up more of a fight in a two versus one. I'd be more than happy to make it to you if you could free me from these restraints, hm?"

Friede's breath got caught in his throat when slender fingers once again gripped at his chin. He felt the slight dig of nails, resisting the urge to swallow.

"Perhaps it'd be better to have gagged you instead." It took a considerable level of impulse control to not blurt out an inappropriate comment right there and then. "But time is limited as is, and I really did mean what I said. I simply wanted to chat with you."

"Then what's so important to talk about that you had to kidnap me for?" Friede asked through gritted teeth.

“It’s that girl, isn’t it? She’s the key.” Ice swiftly filled his veins. He had an inkling on where they were going with this. “That pendant of hers… it has similar properties to terastalization. It didn’t react at all when I analyzed its properties until she was within the vicinity and in danger. That pendant protects her.”

Damn it, only Amethio knew of that connection before this. The guy was straightforward but treated people and Pokemon well enough. This kind of information in the hands of an enemy that had no qualms about harming kids directly was downright dangerous. 

“Even if it was, what did you think I’d say? Congratulations, here’s a gold star.” Friede’s snark kept trepidation from creeping into his form. “You’d think we’re going to let you waltz in and grab her again?”

“Really, I just want a civil talk. I don’t know where all this vitriol is coming from.” Oh, the mocking undercurrent to his pleasant tone really had Friede consider his earlier impulse. They should be in front of him, right? Just a sudden surge forward to knock them somewhere that hurts would be enough. “But, I suppose I should thank you for confirming it. I’ll have to consider my approach next time.”

“How about you just never do and leave her alone? Or is that too much to ask?”

“Such a silly question to ask Professor Friede. I have my orders and I will see them through. Still, I suppose there’s no harm in reevaluating the data I’ve collected.”

So they’re following someone’s others. The higher ups of the Explorers? Their boss? Friede thought, storing that bit of information at the back of his mind. Before he could run his mouth any further, he heard a series of beeps.

“Ah, it seems that our time is nearly up. I must say, perhaps there is more to this motley crew of yours, especially that girl.”

Did they mean Liko? Or Dot? Friede felt his hackles raised at the thought of his kidnapper going after the kids again. For the third time, his chin was grasped with slender fingers. 

“It’s a shame that our lovely chat has to come to an end. A little saddening too that I’ll be the only one to remember it.”

The blindfold was suddenly yanked off, and the abrupt flash of light initially blinded Friede that he had to squeeze his eyes shut. He instinctively blinked to clear the whitish haze–then found himself face to face with multi colored dots that flashed in an odd, rhythmic pattern. Friede could not pull away, not with the hand keeping his head still. 

Oh Arceus not again–

“I’ll be looking forward to our next meeting,” was the last thing he heard prior to his world darkening once more.

–

“.... wake up…”

“...not… pulse…”

Light shakes slowly but surely jostled the cobwebs from his foggy brain as Friede regained consciousness. His brow furrowed slightly, and he must have made some kind of noise as the muted voices around him grew more animated.

“...ede. Friede, come on wake up if you hear me.” Those words were punctuated with another gentle shake on his shoulder. 

A soft groan slipped out but he did listen to the familiar voice. Yellow eyes slowly flicker open, the bleariness sharpening with each subsequent blink. Eventually, he could make out Murdock and Mollie’s worried faces.

“Friede, are you with us?” Mollie asked, her hand pulling away from checking his pulse on his neck.

“Mrgh,” came his eloquent response. A large, firm arm slid behind his shoulders to properly help him sit up. His head pounded something fierce while his wrists felt rather tender. “Yeah. I’m. I’m up.”

Mollie muttered something he couldn’t quite catch aside from alert and no other signs. Still pretty out of it, Friede instinctively jerked back when something cold was pressed against his lips.

“Sorry, I should’ve warned you. It’s a water bottle. Come on, try and take sips. You’ll feel better.” Murdock soothed him in the same vein that he does for the kids. Friede might have felt a little chuffed from the treatment but he eagerly took sips to ease his dry throat. Once done, he laid back against a warm surface that his mind informed him to be Murdock’s chest. 

“What happened?” Friede managed to ask.

“You were kidnapped. Dot received an encrypted message that had an image of you tied up. Thanks to her, she was able to narrow down your location before Rockruff sniffed you out.” He appreciated Mollie’s swift, straight to the point responses. Made it easier to take in the fact that he had a large gap in his memory.

“Ugh, can’t remember anything. Feels like my brain’s in a blender,” Friede uttered, briefly pressing the heel of his palm against his right eye. He heard a soft snort from Mollie.

“The forgetting bit’s nothing unusual but it’s safe to assume that you got your memories tempered with by that Beheeyem from before.”

It sucked because now Friede can’t help but wonder what went on during that long gap in his memory. “Man, I got kidnapped and can’t remember anything for my troubles. Not even a t-shirt.”

“If you’re aware enough to crack jokes like that, I suppose we don’t have to worry too much,” Murdock said, sounding mildly amused. 

“Still, I want to properly check you up. You’ve got some mild rope burns on your wrists, and knowing you, I’m guessing that you tried to struggle your way out,” Mollie piped up, storing away items into a small pack. 

“Wish I remembered I did that,” Friede muttered. With Murdock’s aid, he got to his feet. Surprised by the weakness in his legs, it was due to the arms supporting him that prevented Friede from taking a tumble.

“Just take it easy. You’ve been gone for hours and been tied to a chair all the while.”

“I can carry you if you want,” Murdock kindly offered. Friede briefly considered it but his pride couldn’t take it after apparently getting himself kidnapped and not remembering anything from it.

“It’s fine. Just be my support,” he grumbled. Murdock’s soft chuckle and the arm wrapped around his waist did ease his twitchy nerves. 

“Ready to head back?”

At Friede’s nod, the trio slowly made their way out of what looked to be a small abandoned building at the outskirts of Mesagoza. They head back towards the Brave Asagi, unaware of the Beheeyem watching them from the rooftops. 

Back on board, Friede would find himself hounded by worried kids, having to spend a good amount of time calming them down while Mollie treated the mild injuries he sustained. He too made sure to thank Dot personally later for her aid in finding him, and apologize that she had to see an image of him tied up. No doubt it was a scary sight.

Whoever that person was that kept messing with them… they better hoped that Friede never regained his memories because oh boy, the things he’d do for putting the kids through this… 

Still, he shelved that thought away for a later time. Right now, he had to assure Liko, Roy and Dot once more of his well being.

[vicewiccanblog]

.: My Spirit Protector/Guardian :.

Ok, I don't remember the exact term used for these entities. So if someone can correct me, feel free to do so.

Around the time I met my deity, I also met my protector. They morphed from the darkness of the grove I saw in my vision, forming into an owl-like shape with these 'shadow flames' of sorts coming off their form. And when they appeared, I felt...calm. Protected. As if by just them being there, nothing would harm me. I actually felt like someone genuinely cared about me, but it was also coming from myself. A part of me that I had denied for so long, finally finding its way back home to rest and be comforted. And I did cry, because it felt like that part of me was starting to heal.

And I believe that, ever since that day, I've seen them in my dreams. But not as an owl, instead seeing them take form of whatever I am 'comforted' by at the time. And I started to realize this when they started appearing as Katsuki Bakugo, because he's the one character I've ever felt that deep of a connection with (aside from Dabi and Deku of course but they haven't shown up as either of them yet). And ever since, they've basically tried to 'become' him. I feel like they're doing this so I trust them more, so I'm comforted by their presence and we can actually talk.

Every time I have met my protector, they have talked in this sweet tone - like a doting parent. Or even a loving pet. But their voice is always 'off', I guess like how one would explain a mimic trying to copy a voice. Just this distortion to it, their voice fluctuates in tone/pitch where they sometimes sound like Soft!Bakugo but them suddenly it sounds like a mouse and then flips between that and the voice it's trying to copy. It doesn't scare me, far from it. I know they're trying to appeal to me, so I feel safer around them. But, sometimes, I do wish I'd see their shadowy owl form again.

As I've been re-visiting these memories lately, I've been looking up Owls and what they mean symbolically. I've found they mean not only wisdom and mystery, but also things like change and truth/shadows. And to me, this means that my protector taking the form of an owl simply means I need to face the darkness - I had started being more 'open' after my mom's death, and she was the one thing keeping me mentally blocked off from this side of myself. So it makes sense, I am one who prefers the truth even if I have a hard time accepting it. And I feel like my protector is trying to help me with that, including in my dreams and visions.

I find it fascinating that, in my first time calling out to deities who may want to work with me, all this happened right away. I felt no fear at all, only peace and connection to things I felt were blocked off from me for so long. And I know that, even if I stumble and fall (i.e. my mental/physical issues making it hard for me to function), at least I have those two on my side. I have my diety, and my protector...and possibly an incubus, I'm still trying to figure that part out. But it seems like I have a lot of spiritual guides on my side, I just need to apply their guidance into my real life. Because I am largely doing all this for self-healing, I have always had a connection to the occult and grew up being told my dad was a Wiccan.

I know that my protector is smiling at me, seeing how strong I really am. And I just wanna cry, they feel so proud of me and no one has ever made me feel that way. Not even myself. So thank you, protector. I'll do all I can to make you proud of me, though I know you already are.

[future-circuit]

Amatsuki Big Bang 2024 - Saccharine Sweet

Ao3

Word Count: 15,552

Summary: Six months and seven foster homes after being found alone in the forest, Kanzou finds himself at the doorstep of an odd old lady who lives in a small, out of the way village and has a plethora of odd acquaintances. He has no intention of sticking around but unfortunately, something about his new guardian makes this plan much more complicated than expected.

The first 1,125 words are under the cut. The rest is on Ao3. Even if you aren't familiar with Amatsuki (most of you I assume), I'd still much appreciate any form of engagement.

When Kanzou was first dropped on his latest foster parent’s doorstep, he wasn’t very optimistic. To be fair to his then-unknown foster parent, he had no intention of playing nice with them, nor was he going to really give them a chance. He had more important things to do than play house with some stranger – and what were these important things? Well, that was the thing. He wasn’t… entirely sure. 

See, according to the hospital, he had some sort of memory loss. They gave him some bullshit excuse he honestly didn’t remember. As soon as they failed to find family to come for him, a bunch of government workers came to take him away. And if that didn’t scream sketchy, he didn’t know what did. Sure, what could they want from a scrawny kid like himself? Who knows – not him. He didn’t really know much, which was kind of the point. But he remembered the feeling and the smell, even if it became more obscure by the day. 

Since all he could trust was himself, he went with his gut and fought the government quite literally kicking and scratching the whole way. Six months and seven attempts at settling him later, he was now in front of house eight. A new unknown, in other words. 

The house immediately gave off a different impression from the past ones. While the previous had all been in newer, western styles, the one he was standing in front of was instead a large traditional house. That in and of itself wasn’t particularly bad, though his future self would have berated him for not recognising it as the first sign that something suspicious was afoot. He had thought it was odd that he was being driven out further away from Tokyo and he couldn’t say he hadn’t been particularly convinced that his social worker hadn’t just decided he was a lost cause and was going to chuck him back into a forest to fend for himself, much like how he’d been found. 

Yet, here he was now, in front of a strange house with a nicely cared for garden. In general, a house of such a size would require quite a bit of upkeep, he assumed, and the size didn’t bode well for him in that regard. Bigger houses usually meant that there were already a bunch of kids there. Despite that, it was quiet even as he and his social worker approached the house via its stony path. 

His social worker kept a tight grip on his hand, used to his tendency to try and run at the first chance, and it didn’t take long for her to ring the doorbell at the side of the door. He buried the lower half of his face in his collar and set his face into a scowl in preparation to meet his new guardian. Out of his sight, his social worker glanced his way and just sighed before her attention was drawn back to the door as it slid open. 

Despite all claims from himself that he couldn’t care less, it didn’t take long for his curiosity to win out as he involuntarily found himself staring up at his new guardian through his fringe. 

His first impression of her was, in fact, that she matched her house. He’d never seen someone wearing traditional clothing in the flesh before, let alone just in the comfort of their own home. Yet, here she was, donning a red kimono with slight flower detailing under a kappougi, still pure white as though it had barely if ever been used. She’d tied bushy grey-tinged purple hair into a high yet long ponytail, perfectly out of the way. He couldn’t help but wonder why she didn’t just bother cutting it. 

“And you are?” She asked, startling him out of his observations. 

He only resolved to scowl and glare harder at her, considering she had to already know. He doubted she was taking in some kid she didn’t even know the name of. Annoyingly enough, his lack of a response just seemed to amuse her if the smile on her face was anything to go by. 

“Ah, I’m sorry about him,” the social worker apologised. “He’s just a bit shy. This is Kanzou-kun.” 

She laughed into her hand but didn’t otherwise comment on his clear disregard towards her. 

“I suppose out here is no place for introductions anyway. Why don’t we go and sit inside?” 

With a quick agreement from the social worker, that was all it took for them to head within the house. 

It was smaller than Kanzou had initially expected based on the outside, though that didn’t mean it was anything to scoff at – especially since he had only seen very little of it as he was dragged towards another room. The doors had already been slid open when they arrived, so he assumed the woman must have been sitting in the very same room before their arrival. It was a decently large room, though rather sparse, with the screens of one side had been removed to lead out to the garden. She gestured to the table, where there was a pot of tea and some snacks sitting, before taking a seat herself. 

He and the social worker sat across from her and it didn’t take long after that before Kanzou was stuffing his face with the kintsuba sitting out, tuning out whatever conversation they were having. Sure, it was about him, but it wasn’t like he’d be there for long anyway. He had an important mission to carry out and he’d see to it that he completed it.

“He has a… propensity for trying to run away, Hizame-san” he caught the concerned statement of the social worker. 

“Well, hopefully that won’t be an issue,” the woman – Hizame, he supposed – answered. “I don’t miss much, you see.”

It was the second part of the statement that drew his attention towards her as he properly took her in. It didn’t take much observation from there for him to realise what was so odd about the statement, as a quick reflection made him realise that not once since they’d met had the woman opened her eyes. 

“You don’t seem to see much,” he scoffed under his breath. Despite the fact, however, it was clear that her ears worked fine. 

Much like earlier, she brought a hand towards her mouth to stifle her clear amusement. 

“Young boy, you’d be surprised how little escapes this old lady’s notice.”

That should have been his first warning, if he knew anything about just how true her words were and just what staying in her house would mean for him. Alas, he just sat there blissfully unaware, munching angrily on his kintsuba. 

[afterthegreatunknown]

i am dead set on the post-canon headcanon that when hector tells the quagmire triplets of his vfd (organization) past, duncan and isadora while upset with hector, completely understand why he kept it hidden from him, and forgive hector rather fast; about a day or two later.

the research the two done on vfd has them agreeing that hell yes, hector was right to keep quiet. especially since they realize he’s one the few to actually get out of it 100%. duncan and isadora when thinking of hector’s decision and how he successfully left vfd, think of their parents. duncan and isadora think how their parents sometimes get phone calls at random times and go on lunch dates they don’t give much information on when ask. duncan and isadora think of their tutors and how their parents would get snippy at them about ‘furthering their education’. duncan and isadora think of particular topics regarding their parent’s past that now make sense.

their dad for instance, doesn’t talk much of his adoptive family; only that their adopted parents left him the sapphires, and that he has cousins who are also triplets, and dad think they would like as their honorary uncles. their dad talks even less of his biological family. particular his brother, who’s death/murder on a train hurt him so much, dad only brings him up whenever duncan talks/looks at a particular photo their dad has left of his biological family. their mom tells stories of her and a man she calls jack. jack once worked alongside their mom, and she talks fondly of jack, calling him her closest friend (though mom once admitted maybe he never view her as such, for he was closer to others), and wishes how sometimes they could work again or have him meeting the triplets (for she knows jack would love them like an honorary uncle), but knows it’s impossible.

duncan and isadora see all of this as their parents as while leaving vfd, also never left. vfd was in their lives in the smallest of ways.

hector when revealing his past, admits he’s telling them now so they wouldn’t find out later on their own. and hector tells them that he’s okay with the triplets hating him, and that he has to re-earn their trust and like again, even if it takes a long, long time. he accepts how things will never be the same anymore due to his selfish decision of keeping secrets like their parents. and duncan and isadora tell hector that they don’t hate him. upset yes, but they understand hector’s logic of it all. they wish hector told them sooner than later, but are happy he just told them later than never, unlike their parents, who clearly were willing to take their past to their graves if it means having peace for their family.

as for quigley, i have two headcanon routes.

route one is the idea of quigley going ballistic on being right about his (and fiona; they’re two peas in a pod) theory that hector was once part of vfd, and hating the poor man. quigley already has an subconscious grudge at hector due to his indirect actions of jacques’ death. however, quigley knows that hector took care duncan and isadora, like they’re his own. quigley likes and respect hector for deciding to raise him, duncan, and isadora after everything they went through, instead of just dumping them elsewhere to live his own life (one that quigley admits, was derail due to the he, his siblings, and the baudelaires). and quigley over time does bond with hector (one thing they bond over is whistling), especially after duncan and isadora talked to quigley about his subconscious grudge.

but the reveal has it destroying quickly what was slowly growing over the past year (and a bit more). quigley as it turns out, is not yet over jacques’ death. quigley now sees hector as someone who could have saved jacques had he stood up for the man, but didn’t. his lack of actions did indirectly caused jacques’ direct death by olaf and his allies. hector indirectly stole jacques away from quigley. hector, the man who is now his and his siblings’ unofficial guardian and technical adoptive father, indirectly stole away jacques, the man who quigley thought of his unofficial guardian. quigley is just too hurt how hector indirectly replaced jacques, and it takes a long, long, time for quigley to like and trust hector again, as hector predicted.

route two is the idea that quigley, while going ballistic on being right about his (and fiona) theory that hector was once part of vfd, starts to like hector more after the reveal. sure, it takes time for quigley to forgive hector about hiding his past more than duncan and isadora, like a complete week, but that’s it. the past year (and a bit more) has quigley not only bonding with hector, which helps melts away the subconscious grudge, but also has quigley learning more about vfd from those who were actually part of it via the widdershins family (mainly fiona and widdershins, for they were on the same side as jacques).

having a direct primarily source instead of a secondary outside information has quigley coming, on his own, with a new interpretation. quigley honestly thinks vfd is an organization that could help them. however, he now sees that the organization’s definition of help wouldn’t be helpful and beneficial to them at all. maybe once long ago, yes. but not by the state it was when vfd entered their lives, and especially not the state of their own lives back then.

quigley over the past year (and a bit more), due to his growing bond with hector and being care for by hector, also sees how jacques was not fit to be a guardian, official or unofficial. quigley knows jacques cares and likes him, but it’s in a way how an adult cares and likes a child of their close friend; to be more exact, how an honorary uncle cares for their in-name nephew (for quigley is the only one to figure out jacques is ‘jack’ from mom’s stories). hector, unlike jacques, is willing to take the responsibility of everything that comes with the role of a guardian, official or unofficial, and eventually, technical adoptive father.

and quigley here, due to his and hector’s bond, and duncan and isadora explaining the village situation more slightly more (and perhaps others, like fiona and widdershins, especially the latter talking more of his past with hector and jacques), starts to accept jacques’ unfortunate death, and is able to move on from the pain. quigley here sees jacques’ death was one of those inevitable events. quigley thinks jacques would have been doom had hector stood up for jacques, and the reality that did happened - hector not standing up for jacques- was how the story decided to go.

i like route one for drama-angst what ifs ideas, and route two as how i do headcanon things for my post-canon headcanons + things i will likely publish in a fic (with jokes how everyone assumes quigley would do a 180 against hector a la route one and quigley goes, ‘how angry do you think i can get at a person?’)

[welcometoterrorcity]

"well its the perfect place to start isn't it?" Miss static says. "if you have stage fright, that is no problem. i offer scripts if you have trouble remembering your thoughts!" she dumped a pile of papers on the table. where she got them from was a mystery. not to mention the scripts...how was anyone supposed to know what they would think in the future...? and how did she even know their thoughts...???? the papers were mostly blank, some had scribbly lines on them. And some had incoherent sentences.

Wordgirl raised an eyebrow as she tried to decipher the words. They weren't gibberish but they were all jumbled together. It was hard to make them out. Though she noticed some words like "...help" and "trapped.." Wordgirl didn't pay immediate attention to them but she couldn't help but get a foreboding chill down her spine. "Thank you but I don't usually get stage fright." Wordgirl explained to the woman. "Though I want to know how long do you want me to do the interview?" Wordgirl asked. Huggy made monkey sounds which Wordgirl understood. She nodded to her sidekick before turning to Miss Static. "Huggy also wants to know if there are going to be any snacks provided." Wordgirl explained Meanwhile back where Miss Static first appeared then disappeared along with the local hero and her sidekick, everyone had cleared the area. Not because of the police, but because Professor Terror, the city's "guardian" showed up. He looked a bit frantic and frazzled for some reason while he was carrying some tech with him. No one wanted to dare ask the villain what was wrong or risk getting on his bad side which was the near equivalent of a death sentence. "Come on,,come on. Show me your signature already." Professor Terror grumbled as he was scanning the area where Miss Static stood with a device that could detect electrical and ionized energy. This would allow the villain to be able to track down his child's abductor. Normally Steven would stay out of his child facing villains, even new ones. He knew and trusted Becky and Bob to be able to take care of themselves, but his parental instincts were working overtime ever since he saw the new resident, Miss Static, take his child and her monkey in a flash of light. His paternal side was screaming at his logical side that a complete stranger that Becky was clearly just trying to help took their child to who knows where! That was what was pushing Terror to quickly find his child, his mind fueled with rage and worry at what she was going through right now. Though he wasn't planning to barge in and go nuclear on Miss Static. Not yet. He knew better now. He was going to prepare himself to be ready to kick this person's butt.

[daya-mray]

— BASICS Name: Daya Marie Ray Age / D.O.B.: 32 / February 4, 1991 Gender, Pronouns & Sexuality: Cis woman, She/her, & Bisexual Hometown: Chicago, Illinois Affiliation: Civilian Job position: Trophy Wife Education: GED Relationship status: Married Children Minor siblings of whom she is the legal guardian: Two Positive traits: Nurturing, Gentle, Generous, Perceptive, Obedient Negative traits: Self-sacrificial, Paranoid, Aloof, Passive, Evasive

— BIOGRAPHY TW: Mentions of drug use, parental abandonment, abuse, nongraphic allusions to marital r*pe, blackmail

Daya’s first core memory is of being four years old and finding her father passed out from a bad high in the yard outside of the tiny apartment they rented. It was the dead of winter, and she bundled herself up in her coat and hat, and dragged out her comforter to cover him, laying with him for an hour until a neighbor showed up to wake him up. The next day, both of her parents sobbed and promised that they would get clean for her, not that she understood a word they said. That happiness lasted for a little while, long enough for Daya to become a big sister to her brother Jakob. As happy as she was to have him in her life, to her parents, he was another mouth to feed when times were already lean.

Their parents fell off the wagon again when Daya was ten, which was effectively the end of her childhood. Even though their parents had stints of sobriety, she never again trusted them enough to care for their children. The twins, Freddie and Hanna, were born when she was 17, and the next time her parents came home high, Daya told them to leave. And they did without looking back. From that point on, she became her siblings’ unofficial guardian, dropping out of school and working under the table to make ends meet for them.

Daya fell into sex work at 19, catching the attention of a woman who had an eye for these things. She started on the streets and in seedy motels, and eventually worked her way up towards discreet encounters with the rich and powerful. It was through these connections that she met her husband. Handsome, charming, and older, with eyes that commanded attention from all who saw him. A celebrity known around the world for his history as a teenage heartthrob and roles in critically acclaimed films. Of all the women he could have chosen, he chose her. She was only 25, and with more responsibilities than she deserved, when she should have been living her life. He was her fairytale prince, and she missed every red flag until she was too far in.

It wasn’t all bad. For over two years, they were happy, a Cinderella story for the tabloids and social media to go mad over. They never hid the real story of how they had met, only spinning it into a happy ending whenever the cameras and microphones were hot. He doted on Freddie and Hanna, spoiling them with everything they wanted. Jakob was less friendly, already 18 and deeply suspicious of anyone who came into their lives, but even he conceded that things were easy for once and eventually let his guard down.

The first time he hit her was the night he lost out on an Oscar for his latest film. He had been the favored, supposed to finally get his moment after so many years, only for a surprise sweep to steal it all away. It was his reminder that there were many things outside of his control, and he started to tighten his grip around Daya in order to compensate. He controlled her appearance, her schedule, her body, and every other aspect of her life. If she dared to refuse, he would remind her that he had all the power in the relationship.

Jakob disappears as soon as he is able, with Daya’s urging and help. He’s reluctant to leave his siblings, but refusing to be a pawn that can be used against her. She hasn’t seen him in almost four years. She spends the next six months getting things in order to leave her husband, but things go awry when he learns of her plans. He threatens to take custody of Freddie and Hanna if she leaves, to use every resource at his disposal to ruin her life. So she stays, and is growing increasingly desperate to find a way out. — WANTED CONNECTIONS / PLOTS THE INNER CIRCLE - People who are close enough that they may or may not be aware of what’s going on in Daya’s marriage. This could be other celebrities/high net worth individuals, assistants or members of their teams, bodyguards, etc, anyone who is aware of the dark secrets of celebrity life. They could be allies for Daya who help her in ways they can, or people who look the other way because the money is good enough. They could even be former clients when she was an escort before she got married. THE UNDERBELLY - As things get worse in her marriage, Daya is starting to turn to more unsavory avenues for help. She’s probably going to be on the lookout for some kind of gun to protect herself, and hell, she might even be willing to splurge on a hit if she can find the right contacts. MEDIA - The media has a love-hate relationship with Daya and the feeling is mutual. With the last eight years of her life splashed all over social media, there’s some resentment on Daya’s end at how fake everything seems. People have not been shy about calling her all sorts of awful things, based on pure speculation or because of a bad photo, and she prefers to avoid them at all costs. However, in her struggle, she also wonders whether the media might be her best shot at getting someone to listen to her.

FRIENDS - Friendship with Daya is a tricky beast. It means never being able to go out in public without concern of being followed around by paparazzi. It means being lied to constantly whenever her husband feels like being a controlling dick. It means Daya always wondering whether people actually like her for her, or because of her body, her access, or the other material things she brings to the table. People who are willing to live with that will be cherished, but she will not ever reveal her full secrets to anyone.

[vulpes-atlantic]

Gotg 3 theories! (kinda long post)

because thank you @enigma731 for making a post on the trailer as I didn't even know it was out already

Keep in mind that I have only read a few issues of the comics, and that this is just for fun so it's not like I did a bunch of research.

I have played the newer GOTG game and am in the process of playing the telltale game, and have also watched the animated series a bunch of times, (it's honestly really good.) So I do know of Guardians characters that are not in the MCU yet

BABY ROCKET IS SO CUTE

2. I'm going to guess that the movie will be focused on Rocket's backstory and possibly the other guardians' as well. Interesting as they definitely haven't been explored much in the MCU.

Peter somehow acquired a polaroid camera and used it to take a photo of the team? That would be so cute and he actually has a picture of them on his nightstand on the animated show! (S2:E8)

okay back to the actual trailer-

WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM PLEASE JUST TELL ME HE'S OK

2. Rocket's drinking a milkshake or smth so that gives me hope Peter just got knocked unconscious somehow-

3. I don't trust Marvel movies anymore. They "permanently" killed off three different characters I loved-

Where is that? It looks a bit like Ego's ship? I'm guessing either a celestial building of some kind or the Collecters place (if it has a name I forgot it) Is Peter going to get his celestial powers back? If so, heres hoping he can control them enough that he doesn't become immortal and have to watch the whole team die...

2. Those pink things look a bit like brains of some kind, possibly connected to my celestial ship idea. Maybe they run into another celestial who was related to Ego or something?

At first, I was thinking astronauts from Earth meet the Guardians or something, but that looks like Mantis? I'm curious why they have the big suits when they had smaller force fields of some kind in previous movies. Maybe a radioactive area of some kind?

LYLLA!!

Rocket's love interest from the comics, she made minor appearances/and there were references to her in the games and animated series.

Further making me think Vol.3 will be about Rocket's backstory and character. I'm just crossing my fingers that all of the guardians will get a happy ending...

Adam Warlock!

Another character from the comics, though he was in the games and animated series as well.

He doesn't really look anything like he usually does in my opinion. But then again the rest of the guardians had very drastic appearance changes in the movies also, SO oh well! Not too big of a deal.

What got me thinking is the fact that the golden gem in his head is the soul stone. (Of course, that could be different for the MCU but it's pretty much always the soul stone so it would make more sense)

I'm wondering if he can use his powers to somehow merge the version of Gamora who got killed for the stone and the current version of her from the past. Whether through somehow merging her soul or giving her the memories of her future self I don't really care, now I'm not entirely sure of the comics but in the animated series he got Gamora to let him use his powers to help her remember a memory of her parents (since she couldn't remember exactly what they looked like.) (S2:E21)

2. Were the stones not destroyed? How does he have Soul? Is it something else? But in that case what is it..?

Looking forward to look back on this once it's out and see what (if anything) I got right :)

[blooblooded]

Barb, Quentin, and West Make Mistakes

“I think I really like this girl,” said Rosie with all the earnesty a 17 year old could muster. “And we’ve been dating for like 3 months now. So I know Esther really likes me back too. Just once. What would be so bad about coming back after curfew just once? Or having a sleepover just once? It’s not like we’ll be doing anything that could get us into trouble, we’ll just be hanging out at a friend’s house. Will you please, please think about it?”

It always hurt to say no to her sincere, emotionally open face. Like kicking a puppy. Barbara Church shifted behind her computer. As Shelter Manager for one of the Weil Church’s group homes in Eden’s Lower Levels, Barb was responsible for the safety and well-being of 12 children who had been removed from their parents or guardians or had been surrendered willingly. The kids ranged from ages 5 to 17 and most of them were a handful. Not Rosaline, though. Rosie was so responsible, she always followed the rules. So it hurt worse to say no to her.

“If you get to stay out after curfew or sleepover, Twania and Eric will wonder why they don’t get to too.” Barb was sitting at her desk in the main office, trying to listen to her kid as she typed up a grant proposal begging the government for more money. “It’s not fair, do you think?”

“I think I’ve earned extra privileges. Twania and Eric don’t even help with chores. And it’s just a couple extra hours.” Rosie rolled her sweet brown eyes. Over the 10 years she had been under Barb’s care, she had grown from a nervous child into a friendly and confident young woman. It was mind boggling to think about how nobody had ever wanted her, but that was just the way of things, wasn’t it? “What’s so wrong about me hanging out with my girlfriend at a friend’s house?”

“There’s nothing wrong with it, I just need you back at shelter by 9:00.” Barb picked up a can of soda and took a sip. Staring at her screen for so long was starting to hurt her eyes. But she needed money to fix one one of the showers. Having only two working showers for 12 kids, some of them teenagers, was a no go.

The state wasn’t going to accept the grant. She already knew that. Any tax money for social services in Eden went straight to CPS. It was ridiculous. All they cared about was taking kids. None of them cared about what happened to the kids afterwards. Foster care was a joke, it was a well known secret that kids slipped through the cracks and went missing by the dozens each year. Adoption was almost nonexistent now that wealthy couples could simply genetically manufacture perfect children. And the Director of Social Services, a frigid sociopath named Blake Joyner, hated the idea of reunification of children with their birth parents more than anything else.

There was no money. There had never been any money. When Barb thought about that unfairness too much, it sent her into a dark mood that made her want to really hurt people.

In the past, she had listened to those urges.

Rosie’s broad shoulders drooped. One corner of her mouth quirked down and she sniffed. “Well it’s not like I’ll be here much longer. I age out in 6 months. I might as well get used to what it’s like not being here.”

Ouch. Barb remembered what it was like to age out of the system. You turn 18 and you were on your own. She did her best to make sure the kids at the group home had the skills to get by in the world– her foster parents sure as hell never had. It was hard to maintain a balance between bonding with the kids and lacking boundaries, letting them walk all over her. She never wanted to make them feel like they were unwanted, a nuisance, or worse, like they were locked up in some kind of facility.

But rules like curfew existed to keep them safe. Rosie didn’t understand that yet. She didn’t understand how young she was and how there were bad people out there who could take advantage of her kind and trusting nature.

Time to change the subject. Barb took another sip of her drink. “Which District is Esther from? Is she in this Residential square or the one across from us? If she’s close, you could probably get back home right at curfew and still spend all Friday evening with her.”

“No.” Rosie shrugged and looked down like she was a little embarrassed. “She lives up in the Surface Residential District. But we wouldn’t be going up there though. Kassidy’s apartment is on the Mids.”

Barb almost choked on her mouthful of soda. “You– what?”

“Yeah, her mom owns some company that makes Artificials. They live up on the surface. I don’t know, I’ve never been over at her house.”

And why was that so surprising? Barb did not know why she would assume that Rosaline could never be involved with someone from a different socio-economic class than her. Rosie was a great kid. She was smart, she was confident and self-assured, she was pretty. All her other little girlfriends thought the world of her. But she also lived in a group home in one of the worst neighborhoods in Eden. As smart as she was, it was unlikely that she would ever go to college, it was unlikely that she would ever get a job that made real money. And even if she did, even if she worked hard and scraped and saved and got an education, it was in her nature to want to help people instead of profit off of them. The cycle of poverty was not something that could break from hard work.

And those people…the people who lived on the surface? The people who got to see the sun and breathe clean air? Barb knew what they were like. She knew their cruelty, she knew how they used people. Something twisted in her stomach as she looked at the sweet girl in front of her, the girl who only saw the good in others.

“Is–” She didn’t know how to ask this. Rosaline already looked embarrassed, like she felt she was doing something wrong. “Is Esther an Artificial?”

“Yeah.” Rosaline pulled her cracked phone out of her pocket and scrolled through it to pull up a picture. She handed it to Barb. The photograph was of her and a girl who she assumed was Esther. They had their arms around each other. Esther appeared eerie and unnatural, tall and pale, with feline eyes and a face that was so smooth it seemed to lack pores. Her red hair had been professionally cut and the blouse she wore was designer. “She’s normal though. She hangs out with normal people, she’s not snotty or stuck up or anything. She’s nice.”

Barb looked closer at the picture of Esther. There were dark circles beneath her eyes and thick purple scars roping up her right arm. Even though she was smiling, there was a touch of misery to her face. “How’d you two meet?”

“Her friend Kip’s in my homeroom class and he introduced us. He said he thought we’d get along.” Rosie paused. “We do. I really like her. I just want to spend more time with her, that’s why I want to stay out after curfew Friday night. I don’t want to, you know. I don’t want to seem different.”

She handed her phone back. This was just like kicking a puppy. What was she supposed to tell her? Was she supposed to tell her that her rich new girlfriend was just going to drop her the moment the novelty of dating someone from the Lower Levels wore off? It was something that happened all the time. Barb wanted to protect her but she didn’t want to crush her spirit with the reality of how the world worked. Rosie would have to figure that out for herself. And it would hurt. Sooner or later, it would really hurt.

Maybe she already knew. She had already mentioned that she had not been invited to Esther’s house yet. Maybe she had already realized that that was never going to happen.

“You’re not different,” Barb told her, even though she was. It had been easier when she was younger. Rosie hadn’t known anything else. She had only been exposed to other foster kids, she hadn’t started to feel…unwanted…until she was at least 12. Now she was in high school. There was no way to protect her anymore.

“Yeah, but everyone’s going to start to think I’m different if I always have to leave early.” Rosaline was looking right at her. Her eyes were shiny. “You trust me, right? You trust that I’m not gonna like, drink or do drugs or get into trouble? Can I please just go over to Kassidy’s house with Esther on Friday? Just once? I want to be like a normal kid, I want to do normal stuff.”

“I just worry that–”

“It makes me feel left out sometimes.” Rosie sniffed and then shrugged, a nervous tick, puffing herself up so that she did not look so vulnerable. She stuffed her hands in her pockets and looked away. “I mean, all of my friends invite people over. Esther’s little siblings bring their friend Rome. Kip brings his friend Lee. Ayda even asks her friend Marty to hang out and he doesn’t even– I mean he doesn’t…” She trailed off.

Barb realized that she had no reason to say no to her. Policies were put in place in the group home to protect the kids, but what was so wrong with stretching them a bit so that one kid could be happy?

“Does Kassidy have parents I can talk to?” she asked after a beat. She watched Rosie’s face light up as she realized she had won. “I’ll need to call and make sure it’s OK for you to stay over there so late.”

“Aw, come on.” Rosie sounded mortified. “Nobody else has to—“

“I’m not gonna make it weird.”

“It’s totally safe, Kassidy’s mom is the Police Commissioner. You don’t have to worry about me at all if I’m over there, it’s probably safer than it is here!”

Another shock. Barb already knew Commissioner Nguyen. And she already knew Kassidy Nguyen, and her older brother Christopher. She didn’t think she would ever forget them.

Before she had gone into the Church’s nonprofit sector, she had worked for Eden’s Child Protective Services. This was years ago, before the realities of the field had burned her out. She had just been a caseworker. Someone had reported Dana Nguyen for child neglect and a case was opened. The kids had been coming to school dirty, both of them had behavioral issues, and the boy had told a teacher that his mom had left them at home unsupervised when she had to work overnight. They were too little for that, just 7 and 8. So Barb had shown up to investigate.

The case wasn’t open for long, maybe a month before Barb closed it. Her main concern at the time had been Christopher’s emotional well being, since he hadn’t seemed to have recovered from his birth mom’s suicide. The poor little guy would just scream his head off and throw tantrums at the drop of a hat. He had to meet with her supervisor as well because of the severity of his behavior. She did not find any evidence of child neglect and assumed that whoever made the initial report did so maliciously.

Curiously, the report on Dana Nguyen had been made anonymously, but was still filed with top priority.

Anyways, Dana Nguyen’s reaction to her sudden involvement in her family’s life had been…well, it had been terrifying. The rage that radiated off of her in their meetings was like nothing Barb had ever encountered. She refused every suggestion offered to her. The first time they met, Nguyen had asked her flat out if she was trying to take her children away. She had been sitting here all limp like she was dead, but with so much hate behind her eyes. Barb had explained that wasn’t what she was there for, she was just there to help and provide resources. Dana Nguyen just sat there like she wanted to kill her and said that taking children away was the only reason her job existed in the first place.

It was a small world. But it made sense that Rosie would be friends with kids like Kassidy and Christopher Nguyen. It made more sense than dating an Artificial.

It wouldn’t be appropriate for Barb to reach out to Dana Nguyen. All that would accomplish would be to terrify her and remind her of the time that CPS was involved in her life. If Barb called her and introduced herself, Nguyen might think that someone had opened another case on her kids. Nobody wanted to get a call from their old caseworker, even if it was personal instead of professional.

“Ok,” said Barb, turning back to her computer. “You can go. I’ll just give Kassidy’s mom a quick call to check and see if it’s OK.”

She would not call and check to see if it was OK for Rosie to stay over. Rosie didn’t have to know, but Barb trusted her. She believed that she was old enough to make her own decisions and was responsible enough to tell her if anything made her feel unsafe or uncomfortable. She believed with all of her heart that this girl had such a good head on her shoulders that she would use her voice the moment that she felt like something was wrong.

This was her first mistake.

QUENTIN BELLAMY

It was lucky that Quentin Bellamy could not remember the metro accident that left him with a traumatic brain injury. He knew what had happened, of course. He knew that a decade ago, an entire car had derailed between the Upper and Mid Levels and smashed into the tracks. He knew that 11 people had died in that accident and that 3 people had survived, including himself. He knew that he had spent 3 months in a coma, and another 6 months relearning how to walk and talk. Apparently it had changed everything about him. It had changed the way he moved and thought, it had changed his personality. It was lucky he could not remember any of this. It was lucky he could not remember the person he was before.

It was even luckier that his wife and children were not traveling with him that day.

Anyways, none of that mattered because Quentin could not remember any of it. He was happy in spite of what had happened to him. Although he struggled to do simple tasks most days, it did not stop him from being happy. Sometimes he slurred his speech, sometimes it was hard for him to walk and move his hands, and he often forgot things. His short term memory was shot. The one thing he had never forgotten after the accident was the four people he loved most in the world.

He didn’t even get afraid on the metro anymore, he thought, as he rode it down to the Mid Residential Levels. That was good. Since he was unable to work, the responsibility of taking care of the kids fell to him because Lily was always so busy. It wasn’t hard; they were all almost grown. And his friend Dana helped out a lot by letting the kids hang out at her apartment after school on the days he had physical therapy.

Quentin was on his way to pick up the twins from Dana’s place now. They were old enough to go back and forth by themselves, but he still felt like it was important for them to be around an adult when they were out in public. There were bad people in the world. He was a dad and his most important job was to make sure his kids were safe. Dana’s kids too. Kip and Kassidy were so attached to Esther that it was like they were his kids too. They all helped each other out.

The Mid Levels weren’t as bad as his wife made them out to be. Lily always said it was dirty down there and she refused to leave the surface. Quentin didn’t think it was dirty. There was no garbage on the streets, no dilapidated buildings. Maybe the air was a bit thicker because of the C02 buildup, but it didn’t hurt to breathe. He got off the metro and started walking down the street to Dana’s building. 

Luckily it wasn’t far, but he was happy to stretch his legs. He needed to move his body more often. Lily said that he was getting fat.

Dana’s place was one of the hundreds of public housing buildings in the Mid Levels. Most people there lived in apartments because they couldn’t afford houses. And there was not enough room in Eden for everyone to have a house. The building looked the same as all the others, big and square and gray. There was no warmth on the outside, only the inside. Dana lived on the 6th floor. There was an elevator but Quentin always took the stairs even though it wore him out. He did not like being confined to tight places.

Huffing and puffing because of the stairs, Quentin took his wallet out of his pocket and pulled out a copy of Dana’s keycard. She had given it to him years ago and told him that he could come by any time. That meant a lot. Dana trusted him. Dana was his friend. She never talked down to him because he was slow or stared at him when his hands wouldn’t open the right way. Sometimes she got angry, sometimes she drank too much, but she was always very nice to him. She had a special place in his heart. Quentin would never do anything that hurt or betrayed her.

Dana had already messaged him and told him that she wouldn’t be home until 11, but Kip was watching the kids. Kip was such a good boy. Quentin fumbled to swipe the keycard, opened the door and walked into the apartment.

“Hey, Kip,” he said. “I’m–”

Quentin stopped dead in his tracks. The twins were sitting on the living room floor with their tablets doing their homework. That was normal. What was not normal was that Kip was sitting on the couch next to a strange man who had his hand on his thigh. That was not normal at all. 

The instant that the strange man saw Quentin, all the blood drained from his pale face and he jerked his hand back like he had been burned. He didn’t look much older than Kip, maybe in his early 20’s, and was dressed stylishly, with neatly groomed hair and a beard. His body language changed in an instant, from relaxed to stiff and terrified.

“Hey, Dad,” said Evangeline, not looking up from her tablet.

“Hi Mr. Bellamy,” said Kip, like nothing was wrong. 

Maybe nothing was wrong. There were times that Quentin overreacted because of his brain injury. He felt things too deeply and the signals between fear and panic were too intertwined. It was easy to forget that Kip wasn’t the little boy he had been when he had met him. He was 18 and could make his own choices, he could do what he wanted to do.

So maybe nothing was wrong here. Maybe Quentin was wrong. But he knew for a fact that he did not like seeing that his 14 year old children were in this apartment with a man he did not know.

“Who are you?” asked Quentin. Ever since the accident, he had a hard time pronouncing the letter ‘R’. It sounded like ‘who awe you?’ Putting the keycard back in his wallet was too much for him, the sudden stress made his fingers freeze up. He just stuck it into his back pocket.

The strange man sitting next to Kip was staring right at him. Sweat had broken out on his forehead and his mouth was slightly open. He looked very nervous

“Oh, that’s just Lee,” said Kip. “He’s my friend.”

Friends usually didn’t rest their hands on their friends’ thighs. At least Quentin’s friends didn’t. That was something only his wife did. He tried to think rationally. Every thought felt like it was covered in sticky syrup. He blinked. “Lee,” he repeated.

“Nice– nice to meet you,” said Lee in a strangled sort of way. He hopped up stiffly, stepped forward and extended his hand. Quentin looked down. He could not shake his hand because his finger’s were frozen. Lee put it away, but not after looking him up and down. 

Quentin was used to getting looks like that. Assessed. People could look at him and see that there was something wrong. They judged him in less than 5 seconds and saw that Something was off. 

Most people thought that they were better than him. He didn’t mind.

The twins started putting away their tablets. Kip scrolled through his phone, jiggling his leg up and down. None of them were acting scared or like anything was wrong. They weren’t worried at all. Quentin did not stop feeling worried. When he tried to swallow, his throat closed up. There was something he was supposed to be doing, wasn’t there? 

“Are you their Dad?” asked Lee. He cocked his head. He was the same height as Quentin, but he was slimmer and had broader shoulders. Normal looking, very normal looking. “I was expecting a redhead. I guess that doesn’t matter when you grow your kids in a vat of genetic goop.”

There was something mean in the way he said that, a hateful little twinge. Was Quentin the only one who noticed? He shook his head and furrowed his eyebrows. “Yes, I’m their father. What are you doing here? Does Dana know you’re here?”

“One of my professors canceled class. I just stopped by to pick up Kip to go to a meeting.” Lee’s smile was slightly crooked and he had crooked teeth.  “They’ve all known me for a while.”

What did that mean? This wasn’t the first time he had been around? It must be true because the twins seemed comfortable. Usually they were on guard around strangers. He would have thought that they would have told him about someone new, and if they didn’t, Esther certainly would have. She was protective. Quentin tried to swallow again. It was hard. “But does Dana know you’re here?”

“I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting her yet.”

This seemed bad. Something bad was going on here. Lee was in college and looked like he was about 22 years old. There was no reason he should be there. Kip was 18 years old, but he had problems with his mental health that made him not think like everyone else. It probably wasn’t OK for Lee to be touching him like that even if he was technically of age. And it really wasn’t OK for him to be around the twins, it wasn’t OK at all. Quentin didn’t know what he was supposed to do. He had never been in a situation where he was worried like this before.

The right side of his head started to throb. It was a sharp, pulsating pain that took his breath away. Suddenly the lights in Dana’s dingy apartment seemed too bright. The pain made him wince.

“Can we get food on the way home?” asked Eddie, looking up. He frowned when he saw Quentin’s expression and elbowed his sister.

“I was just saying you guys are always ordering food out,” said Kip, who was not paying attention to anything but his phone. He kept jiggling his leg. “I was literally just saying it. Did you hear me when I was literally just saying that?”

“Shut up, stupid.” Evangeline was frowning now too.

“You OK, buddy?” Lee asked condescendingly. Lots of people spoke to Quentin like that because of the way he spoke and moved. Like he was a dog or a child instead of a man. He was a man. “Your head hurt? I heard you were in an accident.”

Quentin felt scared. He needed to call Dana. Dana needed to know about this. She would know what to do. She always did. Dana was smart. She was one of the smartest people he knew.

His head hurt so bad. 

“OK you guys, let’s go home,” he said. Obediently, his children gathered their things and got up, walked over to him. He was lucky that they were so good. They always listened. Quentin put his hands on their shoulders as they walked out of Dana’s apartment and felt how warm they both were.

“See you later.” Kip was still focused on his phone.

“Let me walk you out,” Lee said eagerly. He moved to follow them.

“You don’t have to do that.” Oh no, he did not want this man to follow him. It was strange for him to offer to walk them out of a home that did not belong to him. He didn’t seem like he was the type to hurt him, but it still made Quentin scared. He did not like Lee. He had already decided that he was a bad person.

He needed to call Dana. He really needed to call Dana.

“I want to.”

Quentin winced again as the pain in his head sharpened. It felt like someone was driving a spike into him and was completely unlike any headache he had ever experienced. The sensation was indescribable. He did not quite feel like himself.

There was nothing to say. He left with the kids. And Lee followed them.

They headed towards the stairs. The twins started to chat about something that happened at school that day. Quentin could not listen to them. The pain was too bad. He had to stop in the hallway so he could press a clenched hand to the side of his head.

You like me, he thought. No, he didn’t think it. Those weren’t his thoughts. The words did not belong to him. They formed seedless in his mind and sprouted, more feeling than consciousness. You like me, you like me. 

Wait, no. Why was he thinking that? Quentin started to panic. The only thing that made sense was that his brain was hemorrhaging again and making him hear things. The last time he had a hemorrhagic stroke, he had ended up in the hospital for a month. The doctors had told him that the next one might kill him. 

He didn’t want to die.

You like me.

The thought was invasive, pushing itself into his mind and curling itself there. And it wasn’t true, it wasn’t real. It wasn’t real at all. The thought did not belong to him. Quentin did not like this man he had just met, he–

Well, maybe he did like him.

The pain stopped in an instant. It was replaced by a tingling warmth that spread over Quentin’s body, a sort of comforting euphoria. It reminded him of how he felt when he drank a glass of champagne or stood up too fast from a hot bath: content, but a little dizzy. Everything inside of him was put at ease. Even his arms and legs felt light.

“I’m glad that we’re friends now,” said Lee, who had stopped when he stopped. He stuck his hands in his pockets. The look on his face was one of complete emotional honesty. 

Lee really was such a trustworthy person. He was just a good guy. It was nice of him to look out for Kip and the twins. Quentin knew that he would never do anything to hurt them. Why had he ever thought otherwise? He knew the truth. He knew that he had always liked Lee. Quentin smiled back at him. “It’s hard for me to make friends.”

“I have no idea why. You’re so easy to be friends with.” Lee’s gaze slid over to the twins, who were arguing over something and shoving each other a few feet away. Both of them had their phones out. He lowered his voice. “And look. You really shouldn’t tell anyone that I was over here today. Not your wife. Not Kip’s mom. Nobody. It might get me in trouble.”

Quentin told Lily everything. He blinked. The peaceful contentment inside of him pushed down any feelings of worry or suspicion. All negativity had dissolved into bliss. “Trouble?”

“Like people getting mad at me. You know what that’s like.”

Quentin did know what that was like. He would never do anything that would get Lee in trouble. Lee didn’t deserve that. He liked him. “Of course. There’s no reason for me to tell anyone about you. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

And although it wasn’t his fault, this was Quentin’s first mistake.

WEST AGAPAMA

Running for public office was not the smartest idea West Agapama had had in his life, but he was completely invested. It never occurred to him that he could fail, he had never failed before. It never occurred to him that the majority of people in Eden might not want to vote for him for Mayor. Why wouldn’t they want to vote for him? Jay Malena had been running the show for years and the man was an idiot. So far, West’s election bid was working. It was easy, it was so so easy. All he had to do was show up, be likable, and make promises to restructure Eden’s economy from a public market to a private one.

Polls projected that he would win 70% of the vote in the Spring election. Poor people liked him because he was personable and had promised to take power from the elite.The elite liked him because they wanted to make a profit off of privatized industry. It was win-win-win. The only way he could possibly lose to an idiot like Malena was if some kind of horrific tragedy occurred. For god’s sake, one of Malena’s kids had died months ago and that hadn’t even affected the projected outcome. It was inevitable that West would win the election.

Power over Eden was almost in his grasp. Once he had it, maybe West would finally be able to change things. Maybe he would finally be able to put an end to things.

The way he saw it, he would win no matter what happened. If he won the election and became Mayor of Eden, he got his way. If he lost the election, he would never stop talking about how the system was rigged, and he would still get his way.

West smiled to himself as he made his way home. It was late, almost 11:30, and he was tired from a long day of campaigning. Most of his little family had been out all night helping him. Despite his whining and protests, Percy had shown up to do some camera work during his speech. Yura and Emily handed out pamphlets. Even Vega had come. Only the younger two girls hadn’t come because Casey had told him they had to study for a test on Monday. 

It was a nice night. He looked up at the Dome as he walked. If he squinted, he could almost imagine that he could see stars above him instead of thick tinted glass.

When he reached the house, West put his hand on the doorknob and reached into his pocket for his keys. In doing so, he turned the handle and the door opened. He frowned. The girls knew that they were supposed to keep the door locked when there were no adults around. Maybe they had forgotten.

West walked inside. There was loud music playing, coming from the living room. West continued frowning. Casey and Ayda should be asleep. It wasn’t a school night, but they should already be asleep.

“Casey?” he said, taking off his turquoise blue overcoat. The music was really loud. He could hear somebody laughing over it and it was not the laughter of one of his girls. What were they doing? Had they invited friends over? He wasn’t scared, he didn’t have a reason to be, but touched the hammer he kept at his side anyways. “Ayda?”

It did not occur to him that they might be doing anything they shouldn’t. Not his girls. They could be a handful but they never actually got in trouble. The two of them hadn’t even gotten grades lower than a B in their lives.

The music got louder and louder as West walked down the front hallway to the living room. He could hear a lot of voices now. He could hear boys’ voices. Boys? He frowned harder and furrowed his brows. “Girls? What’s going–”

He entered the living room and froze. It was full of teenagers he didn’t recognize. Casey was in her pajama shorts and a tank top, braiding some girl’s hair as she sat in her lap. Ayda was laughing hysterically with a boy who was laughing even harder while they lay on the floor playing video games. There were two more girls who looked like they had passed out all tangled up together on the couch, and two even younger boys were giggling and arm wrestling each other while another girl watched. There were bags of chips everywhere and the air stank like alcohol.

None of them even noticed that he had walked in and he realized that they were all drunk. West’s blood started to boil. He didn’t even keep any alcohol in the house because he didn’t want the girls getting their hands on it and getting into trouble. He watched as the bug-eyed boy Ayda was playing video games with yelled, threw his controller on the ground, then rolled over laughing to give her a hug that lasted way too long. West’s own eyes bulged in his head. He looked back at the skinny blonde girl in Casey’s lap and when he realized that she had a hickey on her neck, his blood pressure skyrocketed. The girls who were sleeping on the couch both looked rumpled and closer than they needed to be. The three younger kids on the floor were so wasted that they could barely sit up and he saw the red haired boy pull out a vape and take a hit, still giggling.

Oh, he was going to kill them. He was going to kill all of them. 

West pressed a button on his communication device and cut off the loud music. “Cassiopeia,” he said pleasantly, and he was surprised that his voice did not betray how angry he was. He was so angry that he was almost shaking. “Ayda. What’s happening here?”

“Shit!” Casey yelped, shooting straight up from her chair. The girl in her lap gave a little scream as she tumbled onto the floor. Casey looked wildly around the room, then at her father, her eyes wide and unfocused. “Shit!”

“Dad, Daddy,” Ayda was already starting to whine. Sometimes that worked on him. Not tonight. She pushed the buggy-eyed boy away so that he was no longer touching her. “Wait, wait, just wait a second. We’re not– we just— we didn’t think you were coming home tonight!”

“You didn’t think I was coming home tonight?” West watched the other teenagers scramble around in a panic. The two girls snuggling together on the couch didn’t wake up. One of them looked like an Artificial. All three of the younger ones were certainly Artificials but he did not recognize them. He crossed his arms in a way he hoped was authoritative. “You didn’t think I was coming home? To my house where I sleep every night?”

“No, I mean– we just–”

“It was my idea!” said the buggy-eyed boy, as he pulled himself to his feet. He was scruffy looking and had a big mouth and a loud voice. There was something wrong with him, some kind of manic energy that kept him from staying still. “I just wanted to see your house, I wanted to see what it was like since Casey never shuts up about how big it is. We ordered some food and we just kinda lost track of time.”

West gave him a withering glare. It did not take him long to target the boy as the main instigator. He took a step further into the living room. “Yeah? Whose idea was it to bring the liquor? Yours too?”

“We haven’t been drinking!” Casey bent over to pull up the girl with the curly blonde hair. Something about her sweaty face and unpleasant expression was familiar but West couldn’t place it. The girl awkwardly covered the hickey on her neck with one hand. “I swear Dad, we haven’t been drinking, we just–”

“I’m not stupid, Cassiopeia.” He pointed at an almost empty bottle on the floor and the plastic cups scattered around the living room. For some reason, the red haired Artificial girl found this hilarious and started to laugh. “Please don’t lie to me.”

“I hope every single one of you gets your asses beat,” said a boy’s voice that West actually recognized. He looked around until he saw a square on the television screen with Ayda’s friend Marty’s face in it. Marty had been friends with his daughter’s for a couple years, ever since Percy opened communications so that West could speak to the Prime Minister of the Northern Territories. He was a mean little foreigner, but relatively harmless. Marty appeared smug and smiling, his big black eyes slitted. “You all deserve it for not listening to me. Now just think of how much trouble you would all be in if you had invited Lee like you–”

“Shut up, Marty!” shouted the buggy-eyed boy, whirling around to face him and almost falling down. “You’re so stupid!”

“Why don’t you shut up, Kip?! Cela vous apprendra peut-être–”

“He’s not gonna call our Ma, is he?” the girl with the curly hair asked Casey.

“I dunno.”

“You better speak English when you yell at me like that!”

“Ouais? I hope you go to juvie again and they keep you in there for good this time!”

One of the younger Artificial boys, a black kid with big yellow eyes, started to wheeze like he was about to start hyperventilating. On the couch, one of the sleeping girls groaned as she woke up and pulled a pillow over her face.

The buggy-eyed boy named Kip was getting really angry now. He clenched his fists, color rising to his face. “You are so fucking stupid, Marty, if you called Casey’s fucking Dad on us, I’m never forgiving you, you can go–”

“Everyone be quiet!” snapped West, raising his voice enough to sound threatening. Ayda cringed and started to cry, she always started crying when she wanted to get out of things. Not this time. West shook his head. “You’re all going home. Now. I want names and numbers right now. I’m calling all of your parents.”

For a moment all of them just stared at him. Kip puffed himself up like he was trying to posture at him– not a good idea, since West could probably throw the little bastard through the nearest window. Casey laughed nervously and started to shake the other sleeping girl on the couch awake.

This role didn’t suit him. He did not want to be an authoritative parent. West wanted to be a fun parent, he wanted to be friends with his children. For the last few years, he had started to wonder if that had been the wrong thing to do. Were his children spoiled? He had given them everything they had ever wanted and had never disciplined them. But they had never needed discipline before. He had never thought that they might invite a bunch of other kids over, trash the house, and get drunk while he wasn’t home. 

Was it his fault? He didn’t know where to start. How was he supposed to punish Casey and Ayda? They had betrayed his trust, that was for sure. But he didn’t know what he could take away from them. He didn’t want to punish them. Even thinking about grounding them for this made his heart hurt.

Was he a bad parent because of that? He didn’t know how to put his foot down with the people he loved most.  All he wanted to do was make sure that they were safe and happy. It was the same way his parents had raised him.

The kids weren’t listening to him and he wanted them all out of his house so that he could lay the law down on his daughters in privacy. He snapped his fingers and pointed at the red haired Artificial twins. At this point he had put together that they were probably related to the girl who was still asleep on the couch, they all looked similar enough and were wearing the same types of clothing. “You two. Names. Go.”

“Eddie Bellamy,” said the boy one, who was trying to sneakily conceal the vape in his pocket. “And Evangeline. And Esther. You’re not gonna call our mother though, right? We can just go home with Kip and Kassidy, that’s what we were gonna do anyways.”

Oh god, West knew Lily Bellamy and her husband Quentin. Dr. Bellamy’s company was responsible for creating Casey all those years ago. Her work on later-stage Artificials was unparalleled, but West found her frigid and unpleasant. He always saw her at fundraisers, her docile husband following close behind. Old money. Old, old money. Still, it made sense that his daughters would befriend these children. It made more sense at first glance than it did the other ones. At least they were in the same social class.

That was a terrible thing to think. What was wrong with him? He wanted to bring different types of people together, not push them apart.

“Yeah, I’m going to call your mother,” said West. “I know your mother. I bet she’s going to be real happy when I tell her about that vape you’ve got there. How’d you get your hands on that anyway? You sure don’t look 21.”

“Uhhh,” said Eddie Bellamy, flushing red from the neck up. 

“He got it from L–”

“Shut up, Marty!” yelled Kip, aiming a kick at the TV that missed, then almost fell over because he was so uncoordinated.

West snapped his fingers again and pointed at Kip. His behavior and lack of respect was starting to test his patience. If he found out that this boy was messing around with one of his daughters, especially Ayda, he would really start getting angry. “You. Be quiet.”

“Don’t tell him what to do, you’re not our Ma,” said the girl with curly hair, who was apparently Kip’s sister. That made Casey giggle even more nervously, and she draped one arm over her shoulders. West glared at her. It wasn’t helping his control over the situation.

“P-please don’t call my dad,” hiccupped the yellow eyed Artificial kid, who was wheezing like he couldn’t breathe. His panic did not interact well with how intoxicated he was.  “I’m– I’m going to get in so much trouble,I’m going to get in so much trouble,  please don’t call my dad, I was supposed to be–”

“What’s your name?” interrupted West, before the boy could work himself up anymore. Usually he was patient, but not now. He could hear his blood throbbing in his temples. “Name, now, so I can call your dad to get you home safe.”

“You can – you can call my babysitter–” The yellow-eyed kid started wheezing so hard that he gagged like he was going to throw up. Oh god, that was the last thing he needed, vomit on the floor of his living room. West grimaced.

“Why don’t you leave him alone?” said Kip, who was sounding more and more like he was grown enough for West to grab and shake. Everything about his body language was aggressive: squared shoulders, direct eye contact, clenched fists. “You’re not gonna call his dad anyways, I know all about you, you hate his dad, you have – you have, uh, what’s it called– competing interests.”

Why were his sweet daughters hanging out with a boy like this?

“OK,” West said as calmly and pleasantly as he could muster while being mouthed off to by an aggressive little highschooler. “OK. How about you tell me your mom’s name and number so I can tell her that you’ve been at my house drinking and trying to kick my things, Kip–”

“--Christopher Nguyen.”

Still, West did not put two and two together. His blood pressure was too high. “Fine. Christopher Nguyen. I’m calling your mom and getting you out of my house.”

“No. You’re not calling my Ma.” The boy was looking right at him and smiling with all his teeth like he knew something West did not. 

Who did he think he was? Who did he think West was? 

“Oh my god, you’re so fucking rude,” said Marty unhelpfully, since this only seemed to urge the horrible teenager on. 

“You’re not calling my Ma,” Kip continued, so full of himself and self-assured. Was that how West had come across at that age? No wonder everyone had hated him. “I know you’re not calling my Ma.”

Kip’s sister was staring at him like he had grown a second head. She stared at his huge, dilated eyes and manic smile. She watched the way that Kip could not stop moving, the way that he could not keep his mouth shut. For a moment she looked very young and small and very scared. Maybe West would have felt bad for her, seeing her brother so obviously mentally sick, if not for the fact that it was exceedingly clear that she had been fooling around with Casey. Casey could hardly keep her hands off of her. No, West didn’t feel bad at all. His beautiful, perfect daughter deserved to be with someone better than that.

It was late and he was very irritated and he wanted all these kids out of his house.

“Maybe I’ll just call the police,” said West, looking Kip dead in the eyes. 

“Daddy nooo,” whined Ayda, as she hid her face.

Kip just laughed. It was loud and grating. He was so drunk. Manic and drunk. West really wanted to grab him. His sister edged towards him as if she could pull him from the edge of some unseen precipice. “Go ahead and call the cops,” he said obnoxiously, swaying with his fists still clenched. “Our Ma is the fucking cops. Dana Nguyen, you wanna call her? Police Commissioner Dana Nguyen. Go ahead and call her. She doesn’t give a fuck about where we are right now or what we’re doing, why don’t you go ahead and call her!”

Now the low-class obnoxious aggression made sense. West knew Dana Nguyen. He knew her better than he would like to. The awful little woman had it out for him. She was always making calls to raid his warehouses, looking for something, anything to pin on him. There was never anything, no evidence of smuggling or violence. West was too smart for that. He had messed up once, only once, when Nguyen had gotten him for tax fraud due to Percy. She had taken great pleasure in tightening the handcuffs on his wrists herself.

A sense of dread filled him. This mouthy teenager was right. West could never call Dana Nguyen and tell her that her children were getting drunk at his house alone. She would assume the worst. She would tear him apart without even waiting for the proper legal proceedings to go through. 

This was fucked up. West’s mouth tightened as he stared at the boy in front of him, the boy who was basically laughing at him. His hands were tied unless he wanted to make a bigger mess than he was already in. And the kid knew it.

Well, he could physically grab him and throw him out of his house. But West still had his standards.

“Go ahead and call her,” mocked Kip. His eyes were so wide that the whites showed all around. He spread his arms out wide. His sister stumbled over to him and tugged at the hem of his jacket, trying to get his attention. “No, I want you to call her. You should call Rome’s dad too, see what happens. Rome Prospas, you know that’s Rome Prospas? You should go ahead and call them both and see who fucks you up first!”

Wonderful. Just wonderful. West’s blood went from boiling to thermonuclear. Now he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He didn’t know what was worse to have in his home: Dana Nguyen’s pack of untrained animals or that psychopath Richard Prospas’s shivering hellspawn.

“Kip, just shut up!” said his sister, who was surprisingly stable and not slurring her words. Maybe she hadn’t been drinking like the others. Not that it mattered. “We need to go home. You’re being crazy, you need to shut up now.”

“Yeah, shut up you stupid asshole,” said Marty, who had gone from smug to scared. 

West knew that his own face must have gone dark because all the teenagers except for Kip were looking at him like they didn’t know what he was about to do. That wasn’t good. He unclenched his teeth, tried to relax his posture. He didn’t want them to be scared. He wasn’t a scary person, he would never hurt anyone except for adults who deserved it. But he was angry and rightfully so.

The air itself felt damp and heavy. Probably Ayda, who was sniffling and embarrassed. He hated that for her. He didn’t know what to say and realized that he had clenched his own fists.

“Dad, Dad,” Casey said anxiously, waving her hands. She looked like she was about to fall over. “Don’t listen to him, he’s just an idiot, he’s like diagnosably insane.”

“I’m not an idiot, Cassiopeia, I know how things work!”

“Kip, you need to be quiet right now!” said the girl Bellamy twin shrilly. One of her skinny arms was tightly wrapped around the Prospas boy’s shoulders as he wheezed for air. “You’re making this worse!”

But Kip did not stop and he did not shut up. “Yeah, Mr. A, I see you on TV, talking all big about populism and equality as you run for Mayor. Where’s the equality, huh? You live in this big house, making money you didn’t work for off of the labor of the working class! I know how it is, I know what you think of people like me, what all of you think of people like me!” He had the audacity to point a finger directly at West. Like he was lecturing him. “It’s gonna change soon though, me and all my friends at the UPLF are gonna make things change!”

The United People’s Liberation Front was a radical offshoot of the Eden Workers Party. Last month, a couple of the delusional socialists had staged a riot at one of AGA’s warehouses. Surely Casey and Ayda weren’t involving themselves with those kinds of leftwing wackjobs.

He still did not say anything. If West said anything now, he might lose his temper. He wasn’t going to do that. He wasn’t going to scare his daughters and their friends, or worse, say something that would start something with his enemies.

Being a father had never been hard for him. He had never needed to worry about his daughters and their friends. So why were they making him worry now of all times? Now, when he was trying to run for public office?

Kip was still jabbering aggressive nonsense but West was not listening. He took a deep breath and looked at his daughters. Ayda still had her hands over her face, curled into herself, not wanting to be there. Casey was smiling but nervous, trying to talk to her friends and calm them all down. 

He was not going to make things harder for them. And deeper, more selfishly, he was not going to make things harder for himself. Not now. Not when he was so close to actually changing things in Eden. He couldn’t. If that meant letting all these little shitheads get away with something they should not have been doing, then so be it. These kids’ parents could and would try to ruin everything he had worked so hard for.

There were bigger things West needed to worry about. There were other children he needed to worry about, kids who did not have parents who could protect them.

“If you all go home right now, I won’t call any of your parents,” he said at last. All of them looked at him with wide eyes, except for the two girls who were so drunk they were passed out on the couch. West jerked his head towards the hallway that led to the door. “Go on, get out of here, go sleep it off. I don’t care where you all go, but you can’t stay here.”

There was a beat. 

“Holy shit,” said Marty, and there was a twinge of bitterness to his voice that West did not inspect further. Why should he? Why would he?

This was his first mistake.

[witchertorsten]

Tales of the High King's infallibility were frequent, but Torsten had never heard a single soul dare to whisper of any weakness. The Kingsguard would be lying if he said that he didn't emulate Orhan in some ways, "He was an artist with the blade." What Torsten did not say was that the last three years he'd spent at his side reminded him of what it felt like to have someone watching over him. Not a parent, something more akin to a guardian, despite the fact that was definitively Torsten's position. "Kinder than world gave him credit for." Torsten considered Ormir another moment- the specter at the King's side. "The way these Lysarans would have it told he was a butcher who cared for nothing more than acts of violence." As if it made it easier to boil the man down to simple bones, but as all people, he was vastly more complex than the world gave him credit. Save, perhaps, for his Hand.

"Afshin makes up for it by complaining day and night." A grim smile overtook the edges of Torsten's mouth, the slip of a knife as he looked sidelong at the Hand. A man that the Kingsguard would not permit himself the freedom to be so foolish as to trust. That was Orhan's mistake, perhaps Afshin's as well, though fault alone could not be placed on Ormir's shoulders. For what Torsten did not say was that his lies were of omission - they were in the things he saw that he did not pursue, and the truths he knew but readily denied. It was not just their displacement that bound the Iskarans together, but treachery wove its pervasive thread through each of them.

At present, Torsten was a sword without a purpose, in a den of serpents who would sooner see the Iskarans strangled in their beds than lift a finger to help them take back their nation. Even to him, the writing on the wall was clear; Lysara had already spent the last decade at war, they were exhausted and the last thing any of these nobles could be convinced to do was enlist in a losing battle.

Hopelessness was chased from Torsten's thoughts when he was a child, purged through the benediction of suffering at the hands of the First. His world had changed, and yet the shadows remained. It had been many years since the Kingsguard had felt so small - inconsequential - despite coming from a nation that did not permit him to hold anything more than a sword in his hands. "You and Afshin have more tact than I," Torsten admitted, "and you both hold the Queen's ear." This enemy might threaten others too- Ankhuria, Caribella, Astoria, maybe even Avalon. Point blank, the sword asked, "What's your plan?"

Shadows flit over the kingsguard’s face, and the Hand stifled the innate desire to chase them, to follow Torsten’s thoughts down into the interlocking burrows of his mind. He wouldn’t be welcome there.

Even as his muscles locked in defiance, the jut of Ormir’s chin lowered in a nod, so small it might’ve been mistaken for something involuntary. He had already taken and bottled the longing he was left with into a single word: “Terribly.” The Hand’s lips clenched possessively around it. There was no better term at the heart of Orhan’s absence. Abject terror thrummed in the chamber of his heart the King had long occupied, but the muted hum of it had been Ormir’s lifelong ambiance. Terror had been the indisputable need for his survival, once, as a child traversing the dark cradle of the woods. As he matured, he learned that terror was also the condition of vulnerability. Of love. The price of living well was making peace with that steady thrum of dread that at any minute, it could all be taken away, no matter how hard it was in the obtaining. A promise of impending loss. In spite of his years, he’d cheated himself into believing he could evade the inevitable, strike first to soften the pain. Now, terror was now the penance he served in lieu of receiving the King’s justice he was owed. A bitter unknowing, a plague that hollowed the seat where grief should be. Terror, Ormir’s lineage promised, was something he could all too easily become.

He lives. The Iskaran’s nostrils flared and the line of his jaw drew sharper. The truth in Torsten’s assurance discomforted Ormir, deeply. He swatted at the flare of hope like a pestering insect. It served no purpose beyond exacerbating his suffering, worsening the curdling dreams he endured. If the King lived, their hands were still tied to save him. The Queen had promised nothing but a roof over their heads, for the time being. Their ranks were depleted, their morale sapped, and their faith splintered and scattered on the wind. Until the day Afshin could be crowned King in ceremony, there was no rallying voice for Iskarans to anchor their allegiance to. Any attempt at rescue would drive their heartiest fighters right into the trap Aetheron had set, and would likely bury what remained of their kingdom beneath a blanket of ash. Hope was a mirage. Chasing it would only hasten their demise.

“A broken ankle.” The words spilled out, seemingly tangential. “That was the nearest thing to a mortal injury that blemished him on the battlefield, as far as I know. There was only a bit of swelling. Maybe a fever, for a day or two. And he didn’t stop mewling about it for weeks. Couldn’t fight, couldn’t sleep. All he did was complain.” The recollection grew thinner, less substantive, until it faded into a still, regretful silence. Speaking so benignly, so domestically of Orhan felt like betrayal. Of their privacy. Of his memory. Ormir had no choice but to put faith in Torsten’s confidence, the same as he held for the kingsguard and heir. There was the small rattle of terror, again. His chest swelled on the inhale. “I can only imagine the kind of hostage he’d make.”

Ormir gingerly rose from the stone bench he’d spent hours rooted to. A bracing gust rushed up to meet him at the balcony, overlooking the speckled lights of the city. “Afshin is less miserable when he’s ill.” The Hand said, welcoming a diversion from his own strife, as well as a chance to see the kingsguard squirm.

[poisonedapples]

Patton’s Home for Traumatized Kids

Chapter One: The New Kid

Story Summary: Roman has to have a completely new start. New school, new town, new home and a new family. As a kid in his first foster home, Roman isn’t prepared to trust these people and get hurt again, but he’s not the only kid in the house recovering from past issues. Regardless, their foster father Patton is ready to be the dad they’ve always needed, and traumatized kids learn to lean on each other for support.

Story Warnings: Past abuse of all types, trauma, and anxiety

Pairings: Familial LAMP

Chapter Summary: Roman moves into his new foster home. He is not having a good time.

Chapter Warnings: Anxiety, panic, implied past abuse, food, one vomiting mention, and talk of hidden cameras

Word Count: 6778

Notes: First chapter of a story I’ve wanted to make for my foster au! Thanks to Cornybird on Ao3 for beta-ing this one <3

“Logan, Virgil?” Patton called out from downstairs. “Can you come down here? I wanna talk about something with you!”

Virgil and Logan gave each other curious looks from their sitting places on the same bed. Virgil placed his phone on the nightstand beside him as Logan set his book down at the foot of the bed, both standing up to exit Virgil’s bedroom and head downstairs. At the dining room table was their foster father, Patton, smiling wide with a laptop and notepad in front of him.

“What’s up?” Virgil asked after he and Logan glanced at each other. 

Patton giggled to himself, “Sit down for a second and I’ll tell you! Nothing bad, promise. I think it’s very exciting.”

They quickly sat at the table on the other side of Patton. “So,” Patton joked, “I bet you’re wondering why I’ve gathered you all here today!”

Logan and Virgil spoke in unison. “You’re getting another foster kid.”

Patton blinked. “…How’d you guess it?”

“You’ve been really happy recently, but also very quiet about why you were so happy. You only get like this when you’re bringing another foster kid into the mix. You did the same thing when Logan came along.” Virgil said.

Logan nodded. “Virgil told me about his suspicions due to your behavior, and I agreed with him. I think we both expected you’d make the announcement soon.”

“Oh.” Patton rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I didn’t think it was that easy to tell. Well, you guessed right! The new kiddo is moving in on Sunday!”

Logan leaned closer. “What’s their name?”

“His name is Roman Goldsberry. He’s fifteen, and he’s only been in the system for about five months. Though, before this, he was in kinship care with his aunt, so living here is going to be very strange for him. So just be patient with him at first, okay?”

“Yeah yeah, we will be.” Virgil smirked. “But you said he was fifteen?”

“Yup! He’ll be a sophomore in high school this year.”

“Aw, that means Logan’s still the baby in the family.”

Logan blushed. “I’m a teenager. I am not the so-called ‘baby’ of the family.”

“Sounds like something the baby of the family would say.”

“Falsehood!”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough.” Patton tried not to laugh. He knew how much Logan hated being the youngest, but it was hard to act like his reaction wasn’t funny. “Remember, Roman will be here Sunday, so be on your best behavior when he gets here. No spooking him.”

“Got it, got it.” Virgil slouched in his chair and thought. “One more question though. How fucked up is he?”

“Virgil, language.” Patton warned.

“Sorry! It’s just a question. We know you have a soft spot for the most effed up kids you can find.”

“I would have to say I’m curious as well.” Logan agreed. “It’s become a pattern.”

Patton sighed. “He’s not messed up, he’s a kid who’s struggling and needs support. If he wants to tell you two about his past, then he will.”

Virgil groaned. “Fine, fine. Can we go back upstairs now?”

Patton smiled. “Yes, you can go.”

“Great! I’m stealing your book, Logan.”

“Wait, you can’t do that!”

Virgil darted back upstairs with a maniacal laugh as Logan chased him, the sound of bickering teenagers traveling back up the stairs. Patton shook his head in amusement, still listening to the ruckus in case it got out of hand and he needed to step in, but Patton knew his kids. They may tease, but they’re not mean.

Patton continued working on his laptop once the noise quieted down again.

***

“I hate this.”

“I know you do, Roman, but I’m certain you can persevere and find happiness in this new home!” Roman’s social worker, Mr. Picani, smiled hopefully as he continued to drive him to his foster home. Roman was scooted as close to the window as he could possibly get, his legs crossed and clamped together so tight his thighs were getting sore. He didn’t trust Picani, and he sure as hell didn’t trust this new house. No matter what anyone told him.

“I already had a home! Living with my aunt was so much better than whatever could happen here.” Roman’s hands shook just thinking about it. He didn’t know anything about this new person, and the idea of being in a house full of strangers was enabling the more gruesome side of his imagination. He trusted his aunt, at least, but now he was going to a family who could be anyone.

Roman didn’t like the idea of that.

Picani frowned. “You know why your aunt couldn’t house you anymore, Roman. I know it’s not easy, but I think you’ll like this new place! It’s more up north in Foley County, and the area is nice. He also has two other foster children if that helps.”

“How old are the other kids?”

“Fourteen and sixteen, I think. You’ll get to know them more during your time there.”

Roman hummed, looking out the window and digging his nails into his shirt sleeve. He really hoped this foster dad hadn’t touched them before. Even forgetting about himself, a fourteen year old kid having to deal with abuse? Even after getting away from bad parents? He didn’t wish that on anyone.

“And if you ever feel unsafe,” Picani added, “you can always contact me, ‘kay?”

I already feel unsafe. “Okay. How much longer until we’re there?”

“About twenty more minutes. Just enough time to finish the rest of the Tangled movie soundtrack!”

Roman didn’t respond. Normally, he’d love to have a Disney soundtrack he could burst into song with, but he wasn’t feeling it today. And probably wouldn’t be feeling it for a long time.

He just wanted to feel safe. He felt safe with his aunt, but she couldn’t afford to keep him long after the trial since she gave birth to the twins. His aunt was always one of his favorite relatives, one of the few adults he genuinely trusted, now he was going to the house of some random guy named Patton, who he’d only heard of yesterday, and expected to be okay near him. Well, he wasn’t okay. And he wasn’t going to be, ever.

Roman leaned his head on the window and closed his eyes. His hands still shook a little and his chest felt weird, but fighting it now was pointless. Roman just hoped that if this guardian did try something, he’d do it quickly. The sooner Roman told on him to save himself and the other kids, the better.

Though, Roman still felt his hands tingle at the thought. The idea of “getting it over with” made him want to scream and cry. He wrapped his legs tighter together.

After a long time of trying to fight against his own anxious thoughts, Picani pulled into a driveway and stopped the car and Roman opened his eyes to take a look at where they were. He didn’t know the neighborhood, but it seemed like Picani was telling the truth when he said the neighborhood was nice. The house seemed huge, big bushes and flower patches in the front yard and a nice outside paint job. It looked like a house that a functional nuclear family would have, where the dad is a doctor and the mom stays at home with the kids.

Well, looks can be deceiving. Roman thought. Don’t get your hopes up.

“Here we are!” Picani unbuckled his seatbelt with a wide smile. “Grab your suitcases in the back, I’ll knock on the door.”

Roman nodded and got out of the car as Picani popped the trunk. He grabbed two red suitcases and a backpack, closing the car and wheeling it all up to the front door. Picani was there talking to a guy who Roman assumed must be Patton Sanders, and by taking just one look at him…Roman had never seen a person look so much like a dad.

 He was wearing khaki shorts and a light blue polo with tennis shoes and knee socks, thick-rimmed glasses sitting on his face to finish off the dorky look. Patton managed to pull it off, sure, but Roman felt a primal urge from binge-watching Queer Eye to fix that mess of an outfit. 

Before Roman could truly take in the fact that Patton’s knee socks also had kittens on them, Patton smiled wide once he saw Roman in the corner of his eye. “Hello, Roman! It’s so nice to have you, come on in you two!”

Patton stepped aside to hold out the door as Picani and Roman both walked in. Roman scraped his arm on the door frame trying to keep a reasonable distance from Patton, but neither of the adults seemed to notice how Roman was acting. Patton kept smiling away, and Roman tried to see how real that smile truly was. “So, Mr. Picani, I know I have some things to go over with you, so how would you feel if the other kiddos showed you around the house, Roman?”

…Kiddos? “That sounds fine to me.”

“Perfect!” Patton walked over to the staircase and called upstairs. “Logan, Virgil! Can you come down here please?”

Patton’s request was quickly followed by the sound of doors opening and closing. Two kids walked down the stairs; a boy in a black and purple hoodie, and another boy with thick glasses almost the same as Patton’s. They both stared at Roman curiously, and Roman wanted to sink into the floor.

Patton placed an arm over Logan and Virgil’s shoulders and Roman winced at the sight. “So, kiddos, this is Roman! And Roman, this is Logan,” Patton pointed to the kid in glasses. “And Virgil!” He pointed to the kid with the hoodie. The boys didn’t react much besides an awkward half smile directed Roman’s way. “How about you both show him around while I talk to Mr. Picani?”

Virgil shrugged. “Come upstairs, dude.”

Patton let go of both of the boys and walked off into the kitchen with Picani. Roman watched them from the living room for a moment, but he could feel two pairs of eyes staring at him from behind, so he turned around and followed the kids upstairs, bringing his luggage with him.

At the top of the stairs, a long hallway connected six doors on the second floor. Four of the doors were plain, brown doors, but two of them had very distinct personalities shown on the outside. One was covered in stars and planets, the door covered in a starry piece of wallpaper with a metal planet popping out of the background. The other was covered in caution tape saying keep out, with emo band posters poking out from under the tape. Two very different personalities.

“Your room will be this one at the very end of the hallway.” Logan opened the door to the room, turning on the light as Roman peeked inside. “You can place your luggage in here in the meantime.”

Roman nodded and walked inside to throw his luggage onto the floor. The room was very bare, with brown sheets on a twin bed and not much other furniture besides a desk and a dresser. There was a lamp on the desk and a floor lamp next to a door, and one of the opened closet doors showed that the top was covered in random boxes. Some newer-looking stuffed animals were also sitting on the bed; a soft bear and one of those squishy stuffed chickens Roman always saw in stores. It looked like an attempt at a welcoming gift, but new stuffed animals always put Roman on edge. He looked around the room, and the idea of sleeping here made Roman’s heart start to pound. He needed to check this place before he went to sleep that night.

Virgil smirked, taking Roman away from his anxious thoughts. “Damn, you’ve got suitcases? Living the fancy life I see.”

“…What?” Roman reeled.

Logan adjusted his glasses and crossed his arms. “Most foster children move their things using garbage bags. It’s rare we use actual suitcases.”

Roman looked down at his luggage. Suddenly, he felt guilty. “Oh, well…my aunt gave them to me before I moved out, so…”

Virgil shrugged. “What do you wanna see up here first?”

“We could show him our rooms. Or possibly the attic?”

“The attic is cooler.”

“What’s in the attic?” Roman asked.

“It essentially acts as a playroom.” Logan explained. “Board games and a…random assortment of items are all piled up there. It’s quite entertaining to search through, actually.”

“And it’s in the best place ever, come here.” Virgil motioned for Roman and Logan to follow him. He stopped at one of the doors, opening it and letting Roman peek over his shoulder to look inside. It looked like a normal walk-in closet, first aid and toilet paper on one side with batteries and rows of shampoo on the other. Virgil walked in with a smirk, “Now, check this shit out.”

Virgil jumped and pulled on a string dangling from the roof, unraveling a steep staircase through the closet leading up to a hole in the roof. Virgil started to climb the stairs as Logan followed suit, so Roman climbed right after them.

When Roman made it to the top, his eyes widened with wonder. Granted, it wasn’t anything too spectacular, surely not like something in Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory, but the fact that this hidden space existed made Roman feel excited. At his old house, he barely even had his own room to himself, so a place like this was paradise.

The walls were painted white with a giant window above a sitting area on the other side of the room. Shelves of items scattered the walls, and the rug on the floor was so clean Roman wondered how they even got a vacuum up here. It wasn’t anything like his old attic, stuffed with random items from over the years and covered in spiderwebs. Roman felt like he could spend most of his day here.

“We have a lot of various toys up here.” Logan said. He gestured to the boxes on one of the shelves. “Pokémon cards, a chess set, Magic the Gathering, lots of Lego sets, craft supplies, most of our toys make their way up here.”

Roman’s head perked up. “…Craft supplies?”

Logan nodded. “I believe we have paints and drawing utensils.”

Roman looked at the bottom of the shelf Logan gestured toward. There was a box of small painting canvases with paints and brushes, and though they definitely looked cheap, Roman saw them and grew excited as he took out a canvas and the paints in wonder.

“Kiddos!” A voice yelled from the staircase. Logan and Roman walked over to the stairs to look down, but Virgil stayed in his place on a beanbag near the window. Patton and Picani stood at the bottom, and Patton smiled. “Now, what are you all doing up there?”

“We’re showing him around the house.” Logan said matter-of-factly.

“You are, huh?” Patton crossed his arms. “Does he know where the bathroom is?”

Logan blinked. Virgil called out from behind both of them. “He knows where the important things are!”

Patton tried not to smile, but he lost that battle quickly. “Well, Mr. Picani is leaving right now, Roman.”

“How ‘bout you come down here and I talk to you in private for a sec?” Picani asked.

“Uh, alright!” Roman climbed down the stairs and followed Picani out of the closet, while Patton climbed up the stairs into the attic. They both stepped away to the other side of the hallway, and suddenly Picani’s face became very serious.

“Do you feel safe in this house, Roman?” He asked.

Roman clenched his fist and bit his cheek. No, he didn’t, actually. He didn’t know what Patton would do once the coast was clear from guests, and the idea of what could happen was freezing him from the inside out. The only place Roman would feel truly safe was if he was back in the hospital.

But Roman knew that wasn’t possible, and he couldn’t keep bothering Picani all the time for fears that couldn't be helped. He had to be on his own. Alone.

“I think I do. They…seem like good people.” Roman lied. He’d have to find another way to survive.

Picani smiled, not noticing Roman’s unease. He always was a great actor. “Amazing! Let me know if anything comes up, bucko, and I’ll talk to ya again soon! But until then…so long, farewell, auf wiedersehen goodnight!”

Picani walked downstairs and waved behind him, laughing at his own reference as he walked out the door. Roman watched him from the staircase until he could see the car leaving the driveway through the window, and Roman felt truly hopeless. This was a nightmare.

He stood frozen on the staircase for a while, staring through the window with a hope of Picani turning back and saving him. But no car came into the driveway, and Roman didn’t know what to do with himself anymore. What do you even do when living in a house full of strangers?

“Heya, kiddo!” Roman jumped at the voice coming from behind him, jerking his head back and pushing his back up against the wall. It was Patton, smiling wide with a concerned look in his eyes at Roman’s reaction. “I’m sorry, Roman, I didn’t mean to scare you! I just wanted to ask if you wanted me to give you the rest of the tour. I’ll show you everything you need this time!”

Patton laughed at himself, but Roman felt the need to vomit. Patton was close, way too close, and he didn’t know what to do about it. He didn’t want to be roaming around the house with him, vulnerable and nowhere to hide. He needed to be somewhere safe.

“Uh, no, I’m fine! I’ll figure it out myself!” Patton raised an eyebrow at him, but Roman didn’t care. “Where’s the bathroom?”

Patton’s voice became softer. He pointed to the left of him, down the opposite direction of Roman’s room. “It’s over there. Are you sure you’re alright? You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine!” Roman darted past Patton quickly and out of reach, rushing into the bathroom and locking it behind him. He pressed his back against the door and sat down, pressing his feet against the sink, ready to fight against the door if someone tried to open it. He wrapped his arms around himself tightly, trying to even out his scattered breathing. He knew Patton was outside of the door, he could feel it. He just needed to be somewhere safe.

Roman didn’t move from his spot on the floor, eventually curling into himself and resting his head on his knees. He was so tired, the whole day his heart had been pounding with anxiety and he was sick of it. What did it take to feel safe? Was it even possible for Roman to feel safe anymore?

He didn’t want an answer to that. He was just so tired.

 Roman closed his eyes and leaned his body against the bathroom wall, ignoring all his aches from the strange position and trying to give himself some comfort. His body was exhausted but his mind kept racing, thinking of all the things that could go wrong while living here. He tried to fight the anxious thoughts, but Roman figured it wasn’t that big of a deal. If he threw up in the toilet maybe they’d leave him alone for the day.

But Roman never got to that point. He rested on the floor and let his body shake, taking some deep breaths at times to feel less like he was suffocating. Eventually, a knock came to the bathroom door, and it took everything in Roman not to yelp.

“Are you still in there, Roman?” Roman could tell the voice was Logan, and that helped him relax a little more. He took in a big breath and tried to act normal.

“Yes, sorry. Do you need it?” He asked.

“I’m alright. I simply wanted to ask if you wanted to come downstairs and use the paints you seemed so interested in.”

Roman’s ears perked up at that. He forgot all about the paints, and it would be something that could ease his mind a little. But Roman wasn’t that dumb. He knew this was a plan to get him out of the bathroom. Though…he might not mind that much if he wasn’t alone.

“…Would you sit with me?” Roman asked. He doubted Patton would try anything so long as they weren’t alone together, and if he pleased them enough, maybe they’d leave him alone.

Logan was slow to respond. “I suppose I can if you wish for me to.”

Roman rolled his eyes at that sentence. What a nerd, he thought, standing up and slowly unlocking the door to the bathroom before opening it. He looked through the crack to check if Patton was standing behind Logan, but no one else was there. Logan stood there patiently with his hands clasped behind his back, and Roman fully exited the bathroom.

“I set the box on the dining room table. However, Patton is also there making a pizza for dinner.”

Roman froze. The same room as Patton? “… I’ll go, but you have to stay near me.”

Logan nodded. He led the way down the stairs while Roman followed, entering the dining room through the connected area in the living room. On the table was the box of painting supplies, and Roman ran toward them to start taking them out, trying to ignore the fact that he could see Patton in the corner of his eye. He grabbed a canvas and the cheap paints, as well as a plastic pallet and all the brushes. All that he needed was a cup of water, but…the sink was right next to where Patton was.

Roman drummed his fingers on the table. “…Logan, can you get me a cup of water?”

“Alright.” Logan stood up and grabbed a cup from the cupboard, filling it with water and handing it to Roman. Roman murmured a thank you, and Logan sat back down at his seat. He was grateful that Logan didn’t ask why Roman couldn’t get it himself.

“So, Roman,” Roman stiffened at the sound of Patton’s voice. “Are you an artsy kid?”

Roman gripped hard onto his paints, squirting out a lot more orange than he meant to. “I guess, yeah. I like art.”

“Do you like to paint, or are you more of a sketchy kinda guy?”

“Uh…all of it. Painting, drawing, coloring, I used to make a lot of stuffed animals too.”

“Awww, that sounds adorable!” The oven beeped and Patton put on his oven gloves and pulled out the pizza. “It’s probably best I don’t know how to make stuffed animals though. If I did, this house would be full of little stuffed puppies!”

Roman didn’t respond. He focused completely on mixing red and orange for a perfect sunset color, attempting to get a good gradient with the lack of shade variety. Once he filled in his sunset and blended it with a dark night sky, he mixed his white with a dot of gray and made darker clouds, dotting them above his rough-looking hill. He wanted to add more texture to the bottom of the canvas, maybe some trees, but he didn’t know how to make good ones without a fan brush. Maybe he could add some grass…

“Alright, the pizza is cooled down and ready!” Roman noticed Patton put a plate next to his painting, so he pushed all his supplies out of the way so he could eat. Patton set down more plates around the table as Virgil walked in. “It was a real pizza work if I do say so myself!”

Logan rolled his eyes and Virgil held back a snort, but Roman didn’t quite know how to react. He might have found the dad joke more amusing if he wasn’t so on edge.

Roman took a bite of the pizza. It wasn’t anything spectacular, just a store-bought one that you heat up in the oven and serve, but Roman didn’t realize he was so hungry until now. He had skipped lunch because his nerves about coming here were making his stomach churn, but finally having food near him was bringing back that hunger. Roman’s foot was still tapping violently under the table, but it was progress.

Everyone ate their pizza in silence. It was incredibly awkward on Roman’s end, no stories to tell as this table full of strangers kept making glances at him. Patton was the worst with it. He seemed to want to say something to Roman, continuously making eye contact with him until Roman looked away, but still not saying a word. He couldn’t take it. He hated it, but he hated this silence even more. Roman swallowed the pizza bite he was chewing and opened his mouth.

“So,” Roman started, “what do I…call you anyway?”

“Me?” Patton asked, his eyes lighting up. Why would his eyes light up at that?

“Yeah. Do I say Mr. Sanders, or…?”

“Oh, Patton works just fine! I hear Mr. Sanders way too often at work to wanna hear it at home too!”

“Oh, where- where do you work?” At least it wasn’t so quiet anymore.

“I’m a nurse practitioner for a clinic. It’s a lot of fun, just a lot of work. At least my hours aren’t as crazy as most nurses.”

“Oh that’s…cool.” Roman didn’t know how to continue off of that.

“It is! Is there anything else you wanna ask me, though? Maybe about the house, routines, anything?”

“Well…what are the rules here?” That seemed like a very safe question to have. It could save Roman a lot of trouble, and it could give him more of a read on the kind of parent Patton was.

“Oh, it’s not that much. You’re old enough to clean up after yourself, so make it a habit to pick up your own things and not put that stuff on other people. Be kind to everyone else, and the only rule I’m very strict about is no yelling. You can be loud sometimes, but no angry yelling at anybody here. The last one is to respect others’ privacy. Always knock on someone’s bedroom door before entering. But that’s really it, I think!”

How often do you break that last rule? “That seems reasonable, I suppose.”

Patton smiled. “I think you’ll do just fine here, kiddo. I know it’s hard to start over, but you won’t be alone during it!”

“…Thank you.”

“And I’m sure Virgil and Logan could help out a little bit, since they’ve been in the same situation! Right, you two?”

Virgil was halfway through trying to stick a whole piece of crust in his mouth. “…Uh huh.”

“…Virgil, chew your food.”

“Lo’an ‘old me I cou’ do it!”

“Do not drag me into this.”

Virgil hid his mouth behind his hand as he chewed for a long period of time. “You’re just avoiding your responsibility.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Well, I’m finished, so try not to choke now.”

“Now I’m gonna choke just to spite you.”

“Please do not start a choking contest, Virge.”

Virgil groaned before swallowing the last of his crust. He followed Logan to the dishwasher and put his plate in, closing it and scurrying away back upstairs. Logan hesitated leaving the dining room, looking between Patton and Roman. Roman couldn’t tell if Patton noticed Logan’s hesitation or if it was just perfect timing, because he also got up and put his plate in the dishwasher.

“When you finish, Roman, just put your dishes away.”

“I can do that.”

Patton smiled and walked off into the living room, sitting on the couch to watch some TV show seemingly about cute puppies and kittens. Logan glanced at Roman again.

“Do you still want me to stay?” Logan asked.

Roman ate the last of his pizza and pushed his plate to the side, grabbing his painting again to put in front of him. It was the most effective thing at calming him down. “…No, I should be okay.”

Logan nodded and walked upstairs. Roman tried to fully immerse himself in his painting, focusing on every last detail and how he could make it better without over-detailing it. Roman put more green on his brush and started to dot at his hill on the bottom, trying to add little blades of textured grass. It was a long process, just enough to take the majority of his focus and calm his hands.

…Roman felt really weird here. It didn’t feel like he lived in this house, now. It felt like he was spending the day with some friends, and his aunt would come pick him up before the sun went down. But no, these new kids were his foster brothers and the adult he was terrified of was expected to act as his new dad. There was no one coming to save him, he was expected to sleep here and eat here and live here. This was supposed to be his safe space.

Roman rubbed at his eyes and shook his head. Don’t focus on that now, he thought. Focus on the painting.

So he did focus. He focused on monotonous texture additions and watching the paint dry on his canvas as he went along, letting the repetitive action calm his mind just a little bit. His calming method seemed to be working too well, actually, as the more details he added and stared at the paint, Roman realized that his constant panic today had completely exhausted him. It wasn’t even seven o’clock yet and Roman could feel his eyelids get heavier. He rubbed at his eyes again and tried to focus.

Roman yawned once. He yawned twice and rubbed his eyes as he kept adding minor details to his painting. Then, after a while, Roman scooted his painting to the side and laid his head down on the table.

***

“…Roman, wake up, please.”

Roman buried his head deeper in his arms. “Come on Roman, it’s late.”

Roman groggily lifted his head up. Patton was sitting in the chair across from him, the lights were all off except for the one light above the dining table. Roman looked around him, and noticed that it was dark outside now. Shit.

“You fell asleep, but that’s okay. It’s bedtime now, and the other two are already in bed, so how about you go get ready and sleep in your bed? I bet it’s comfier than the table.”

Roman dug his palm into his eye. “…What time is it…?”

“About 10:20. You all have bedtime at ten.”

“…But I’m fifteen?” Roman gave Patton a confused and sleepy look. He hasn’t had a bedtime since he was twelve, especially one that was so early. His mom only told him to be in bed by midnight.

Patton smiled. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. Logan is the only one who needs a bedtime, but I don’t want him to feel left out because he’s the only one asleep. So, how about you get ready for bed?”

Roman nodded and got out of his chair. The more he walked, the more he woke up, and he could tell by the time he went back upstairs that he wasn’t going to go back to sleep for a while since he could feel his heartbeat in his chest again. Patton followed him upstairs, turning off the dining room light as they went. Roman got his bathroom bag out from his smaller suitcase and a cotton shirt with sweatpants for pajamas, bringing it all with him to the bathroom. He closed the door as he brushed his teeth for the night, placing his bag in the bottom drawer after he did. He changed into his pajamas carefully, taking the towel on one of the racks to hide his lower half under as he switched pants, taking his other clothes and throwing them into a laundry basket.

When Roman stepped out of the bathroom, Patton was leaning against a wall waiting for him. He smiled at Roman, but Roman still ran past him to get as far away as he could get. Patton didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he just didn’t care. Roman shifted on his feet awkwardly before closing his door.

“Um…goodnight.” He finally said. Patton seemed satisfied with this.

“Goodnight, Roman.”

Roman finally closed the door to his bedroom, waiting until he heard the door on the other end of the hallway open and close. Almost immediately after, as if another force was controlling him, Roman started to tear the place apart.

He checked the charging ports in the walls, the lamp, under the bed’s covers and behind every piece of furniture. He stood on top of his suitcase to check the vents and took out all the drawers in the dresser. He punched the stuffed animals to see if he could feel wires, but he still couldn’t find it. He couldn’t find it.

Roman felt himself start to pant. He refused to go to bed until he found it. No matter how well hidden it was, Roman knew there was a camera in here. He couldn’t stop until he found it.

Roman grabbed the boxes at the top of the closet and tossed everything out of them, checking every spare blanket and binder before throwing them across the room when he found nothing. He took the hangers out of the closet and threw them on the floor, shining his phone light on the wall of the closet to find a hole. Nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

Tears sprung into Roman’s eyes as he choked on his own breath. “Where the hell is it!?” He whispered, slamming the closet door closed and moving to check the bed. He tore the bedsheets off and checked the mattress, lifting it up as well to check the bed frame for anything that could be used to record. Nothing.

“Come on, please-” Roman took out the drawer from the bedside table. Nothing. He unscrewed the lightbulb from the lamp, almost shattering it from his tight grip. Nothing. He threw the lamp onto the bed and kicked the nightstand over. Nothing.

Roman choked out a sob as his whole body started to shake. This wasn’t fair, he spent all that time trying to get away from his dad only to end up in a place that hid cameras better than him. Roman gripped the covers he’d thrown and punched the floor next to them, the ache being an almost pleasant distraction from his own head. But his mind continued to race and his crying didn’t let up. The only thing Roman could manage to get out of his mouth was “No, no!”

Then, between Roman’s sobbing, he heard a knock at the door.

Roman froze in place. A feeling of dread spread through his chest and made his fingers go numb. For a second, Roman forgot to breathe as he remembered he forgot to lock the door.

Roman’s body was stiff, but his mind was going a mile a minute in a desperate attempt to save himself. He could hide in the closet, but since he tore everything out of there, if someone opened the door they’d immediately find him. He could hide under the bed, but without the covers to reach the floor it was easy to see he was under there. Roman choked on his own breath when he realized there was nowhere to hide-

“Roman?” The knock came back to the door, gentler than the first time. It wasn’t Patton’s voice like Roman feared, it was Virgil. Raspy and tired-sounding, but without a doubt Virgil.

“Y-yeah?” Roman squeaked out.

“Uh, can I…can I come in?”

Roman’s death grip on the covers loosened up slightly. “Yes…”

Virgil slowly turned the doorknob and opened it, slipping in through the smallest crack and closing the door slowly so it wouldn’t click. Once he was inside, Virgil’s eyes widened as he took in the sight of the destroyed room. “…Holy shit dude.”

Roman tried to dodge the situation, “What do you want?”

“I was gonna come in here and make a joke, like, ‘quiet down it sounds like a tornado is going through here’, but now I think I predicted the fucking future.” Roman put his head down as Virgil looked around in shock. “What the fuck happened?”

Roman wiped away his tears with the palm of his hands, digging into his eyes so hard he saw stars for a moment. “…There’s a camera in here.”

Virgil backed up more towards the door. “Wait, there is?” He darted his eyes around the room looking for what Roman was talking about. Roman let out a shaky breath.

“I haven’t found it yet, but I know it’s in here somewhere!” More tears went down Roman’s face as he hugged himself. Virgil seemed to realize what Roman was babbling on about. “I know Patton put a camera in here for me and I’m freaking out because I can’t find it!”

Virgil looked around at the mess again. He sighed. “I’m not good at this shit…you’re certain it’s in here?”

“Yes!”

“Hey, hey, don’t yell.” Virgil warned. “Pat and Logan are still asleep and I don’t think you’d like all that extra attention right now.”

He was right. If Logan and Patton came in here, Roman didn’t know what he’d do about it. It was the last thing he wanted, so Roman obeyed. “I just…I don’t know what to do…I can’t sleep until I find it.”

Virgil seemed to be thinking. He tugged on the neck of his pajama shirt before speaking. “How about we both make a deal?”

Roman lifted his head up to look at Virgil. “…Deal?”

“We’ll trade rooms for the night. There wouldn’t be a camera in my room if he’s trying to watch you, right?”

Roman paused. “…What if he’s watching you too?”

“I’ve lived here for two years. You think I wouldn’t have noticed a camera in my room by now?”

Roman thought about it. He did have a point, it was hard to go that long without finding the camera. Or at least, have your guardian have it slip that they’ve been watching you. And anything was better than staying in this place.

“…We can trade. Thanks.”

Virgil shrugged. “You know where my room is. Just slip in and don’t wreck all my shit.”

Roman laughed a little bit at that one. Virgil grabbed the sheets and covers off the floor and began to remake the bed as Roman grabbed his backpack and started to slowly open the door. But before he left, Roman had to say one more thing for his own piece of mind. “…Don’t touch my suitcases. I-I’ll know if you do.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow at him. “…I won’t.”

Roman opened the door and softly closed it behind him, slipping into the room next door covered in caution tape. He turned on the light and set his backpack down on the floor, looking around him at all the things that showed Virgil’s personality. Emo band posters covered the walls that were painted a dark purple, with dark wood furniture and Hot Topic decorations all over the place. Just looking at this room told him how angsty this kid was.

Roman shook it off and unzipped his backpack. He could deal with angsty decorations for the night, so long as this place could be safe from creeps. He took out his secret weapon from his backpack, something he secretly bought behind his aunt’s back with his babysitting money, the one item that made him feel secure in a home. He pulled out the security bar, locked Virgil’s door, and placed it under the door handle. Even if someone undid the lock, they wouldn’t be able to sneak inside while he was sleeping.

Roman’s heart calmed down a little for the first time in weeks. Even if it wasn’t much, he felt safe, maybe even safe enough to get some rest for once. Roman crawled into Virgil’s bed, covering himself in his very tasteful Jack Skellington covers, and tried to rest.

Roman’s hands still shook, and his head felt funny, but he eventually drifted off into a light sleep full of anxiety and nightmares.

[f1nalboys]

Anon asked:

Hi I was wondering if you could do headcannons for the slashers finding child reader and seeing some marks on their bodies that means they've been abused by their guardian or parent? And maybe slashers being the reader's new guardian and parent? You can add fluff in this if you like.

Hi, thank you sm for the request! I had such a good time writing this lol, just imagining some of them as parents was *chefs kiss* I hope you enjoy this! (And, if you or anyone reading this is dealing with abuse, please call or text the hotline * and remember you are strong, brave, and do not deserve what is happening. <3 )

*This hoteline is only for the U.S states and Canada, but please don’t be afraid to search up the hotline for where you are or to tell someone you trust!

WARNINGS: implication of abuse

MICHAEL (RZ)

‘What is this gremlin and why are they around me?’

Honestly would be treating you like a pest as a first instinct, he doesn't really get why you're around him in the first place like where are your parents…

I mean once he loses you he's gonna follow you around because he needs to know who you belong to lol 

During his little stalking hours he starts to recognise his own behavior that he exhibited in his childhood to yours and he gets this sick feeling in his stomach

When he sees your guardian he is immediately filled with rage because he knows exactly why you're doing the things you were

He is killing whoever it is that very night he doesnt care whos around of the chances of him being caught

There’s a 50/50 chance of him taking you in himself. I really think it’ll depend on your age and how you act, you know? Michael isn’t going to want to or be able to take care of a toddler or kid in a way he sees fit so he's just going to drop you off at a neighbors house 

Now if you’re older and more reserved/independent he might be more willing to watch over you but I still think it would be really hard for him to do so

As long as you’re in Haddonfield though he’ll be checking in on you and just making sure you're alright and safe

Boogieman got your back basically

Billy Loomis and Stu Macher

‘Why is this unattended child out at night and why are they hanging out around us?’

They’re psychopaths not assholes, they’re gonna try and help you lol

They’re surprisingly good with kids, especially Stu, so you’re immediately comfortable around them

Billy is the first to notice your behavior and any bruises and immediately connects the dots. He’s had his fair share of bruises and knows exactly how you got them

Once he starts asking questions, Stu will catch on and get just as mad as Billy, if not more so.

They both have already come to the same conclusion: whoever did it to you is not going to be surviving the night

Take you to Stu’s parents house (who welcome you with open arms and doted on you) and leave for an ‘errand’

Gone for a few hours and when they come back (they made sure to stop and get you some snacks) they let you know that you're safe now

When they take you to the police station in the morning they promise to make sure you’re alright and Stus parents offer to foster you (they’re going to adopt you don’t worry)

Big brother Stu and Uncle Billy :,)

Thomas Hewitt

Personally I think they have a strict no children policy (they’ll kill them if need be but they try to make sure it never comes to that) but Tommy and Luda Mae are very strict enforcers of this rule because if Hoyt had his way it wouldn’t matter what age you were; food is food

The moment Thomas sees you being hurt in any capacity he is going straight to his mother to tell her and lets just say Luda Mae is pissed

Thomas becomes a protective older brother to you, Luda Mae is acting like your mom, and Hoyts your weird Uncle but Tommy make sure he isn’t too harsh on you lol

Your abuser is staying alive until Thomas knows exactly what they did to you because he’s going to return it tenfold

Hoyt would bug you about getting revenge but Tommy really wouldn't want you to do so because you’re a kid, you shouldnt be exposed to that sort of thing (he knows eventually you’ll have to learn about the family business but he wants to stop that from happening for as long as possible)

If you say you want to, though, he’ll be with you every step of the way

He is going to teach you sign language you don’t know it because he wants to talk to you and let you know everything is alright now

Found family at its core babey

Sinclair Brothers

Lesters the first one who notices. He saw what happened with Bo growing up and seeing how you were acting when you were in the car, shrinking into yourself, he got angry

And when Lester is angry, he is angry… the man is hard to piss off so when Bo sees him pull into town with you in there and sees his face he knows something happened

God, speaking of Bo, he was furious. It took so much willpower to not kill your abuser right then and there

Bo is good with kids, i don't care what anyone says, he’s cracking jokes and letting them look at the car’s engine with him, stuff like that

Made sure you didn’t see or hear what happened with your abuser but will introduce you to Vincent (who might be more inclined to show you his face if you think his mask is scary) and he lets Vincent know that these people aren’t to become statues under any circumstance

He tells you the people you were with left and that they apologized for what they did and he doesn’t think you believe him but you seemed so relieved he didn’t want to tell you the truth

Most likely to take you to the next town over to the police station to get you somewhere safe because he and Vincent agreed that it wouldn't be safe for you in Ambrose

But if you begged enough to stay Vincent would convince Bo that it’d be alright

No matter how much Bo grumbles about you being there, eating him out of house and home, he’s actually pretty happy you're around because he can be a father figure to you (even if it scares him half to death)

Vincent will teach you how to sculpt (obviously not with humans, maybe when you're older if they ever tell you (or when you inevitably find out))

Cool Uncle Lester teaches you about bones and lets you ride around in the truck with him

Jason Voorhees

Witnesses it during his daily rounds around the camp  and neither he (or Mrs. Voorhees) is happy

Kills them then and there; there is 0 hesitation, he lowkey forgets you're even there and that you’re witnessing it 

When he notices you he feels so bad and actually feels worse when you seem to be happy they’re gone

Is afraid you're going to be scared of him because all he wanted to do was protect you but he’ll try and explain to you through sign language or through writing into the dirt with a stick

Actually wants you to stay in the camp with him so he can watch over you but has no hard feelings about you going back to civilization (he doesn’t even know how he’d be as a father)

Obviously he can't go and drop you off somewhere because he’s literally s zombie lol but he will go as far as he can to make sure you get somewhere safely

Worries about you even weeks after you’ve left, like how are you doing? Are you with someone trustworthy? Do you remember him?

If you stay, however, he is gonna be the best god damn dad ever, if not a bit overprotective

You’re not allowed to leave the designated area he’s ropped off outside of the cabin because god forbid some campers stumble across you

Tiffany Valentine

We all know my wife has no qualms about killing kids but she’s way too sympathetic once she figures out what's going on with you

Meet your new goth mom! She’s great!

She is the most qualified out of all of the slashers to take care of a kid regardless of the age (I mean, remember Glen/Glenda and how accepting she was? How much she cares for her kid?)

She’s killing your abuser without a single care in the world, she’s not wasting any time either. She lets you know you’re safe with her and that nothing will ever hurt you again

Get ready to be pampered; she is treating you to everything you could ever want. You won’t be spoiled, of course, but you’re going to be comfortable

You will be the most well-adjusted kid being taken care of by a slasher (maybe losing to Billy and Stu but that’s just because of Stu’s parents) so congrats for that!