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mothwingwritings · 7 months ago

Note

Can we have Ren/Fox (TPOF) and Mc with a child?Long after Fox decided to stay with MC, they both had a daughter (probably not something with consent and a bit of Stockholm syndrome).The daughter asks her mother how she got the scars and this makes MC have memories of post-traumatic stress.

I was so tickled by this ask that I started manically typing out a response for it nearly as soon as I saw it in my ask box (which at this point, was quite some time ago. Forgive me, I am a mess lul). I wrote the whole damn thing in a fit of passion, excited to release it into the world… But ultimately hated it and thought it was garbo, so I scrapped it and tried again. Wrote a second iteration and thought ‘hell yeah, this is it!!! Sick!’, but then I read it AND HATED THAT ONE TOO AAAHHH!!!

I rewrote this… so much…

But I never give up on my dreams, and you shouldn’t either! Persevere! Don’t give up on yourself! Here’s your daily motivation for the day! Keep writing even it makes you cry!!! :D

Anyway, so I wrote this third one, comprised of new stuff and the stuff I actually did like from the first two stabs, and it ended up being the one. Truly it is a Frankenstein of a fic lol. Regardless of all the reworking, I had a lot of fun writing this and enjoyed the prompt very much!!! I I hope you enjoy reading it just as much. :)

I’m sorry if the writing seems a tad too mature for the reader’s daughter in this, writing children isn’t my forte. ^^;

Due to the nature of this fic, IT IS 18+ ONLY!!! Thank you!

WARNINGS: Incessant mentions of abuse of all kinds for reader and mentions of physical abuse for her child!!! Reader is heavily scarred from said abuse and that’s a main theme in this fic so please avoid if that is upsetting to you. Also, though not the main focus, there are multiple mentions of child abuse in this fic, as well a part where reader goes off verbally on her child, so please be mindful of that as well! Other things of note: reader is a parent in this (which you can probably tell by the prev warning lol), reader getting hurt, blood, manipulation, Stockholm syndrome, being held against your will/isolation, mentions of noncon, sad family stuff :(

Diminishing rays of afternoon light splayed through the open window of your quaint living room, casting a comforting orange glow over everything they touched. The light gave the environment an ethereal and nostalgic feel, wrapping you in peaceful warmth as the sun sunk lower and lower. The loveseat you occupied was plush and inviting, and a mug of your favorite tea stood at the ready on the small coffee table beside you, steadily cooling with help from the last hurrah of winter blowing in gently from the outside. Besides the slight chill, the wind brought with it the heavy scent of freshly bloomed flowers, a delightful precursor to the oncoming spring.

Relishing the rare moment of serenity, you couldn’t help but wish that all your days could be this lovely.

You smiled down at your daughter who sat perched in your lap, happily flipping through the newest gift she had acquired from her Father- a thick picture book full of bright illustrations highlighting various exotic animals. As it lay sprawled across her tiny lap, her chubby finger pointed out each animal she took an interest in, her high pitched voice chirping away as she explained what she liked about the creatures. She got particularly excited when she spotted the page full of foxes, jabbing at the red one feverishly as she exclaimed “its daddy!”

Spotting the foxes began her down a path of assigning an animal to not just herself, but you as well. She didn’t find it fair that only her father had kin in the animal world, even though you pointed out that she technically did as well by sharing half the man’s blood. Your revelation did little to deter her, she wanted something new, something just for herself, and she wasn’t going to stop until she found her perfect soul animal. So she continued on, scanning each page in earnest until she found a creature that suited her.

She ended up picking a bunny for herself, supplying you with a comprehensive reason as to why she chose it. As she explained in great length, skimping no details, you couldn’t help but hold back laughter. She spoke as if she were a professor teaching a class, and you did your best to keep a straight face as she yammered on with her shoddy reasoning, deep down knowing she only picked a rabbit because of how cute they are.

After she was done waxing poetic about bunnies, she continued scouring the book, coming to a halt once she reached the wild cat section. She stopped with a gasp, beaming up at you as she pressed her finger firmly against one of the images on the page.

“Mommy this one is you!”

Your eyes traveled to the picture she was rapidly tapping, “An African Wildcat, huh?” You smirked down at the little girl in amusement, “Why did you pick that one for me?”

“Because it looks just like you!”

You chuckled at her enthusiasm, “It looks like me? How so?”

“It has marks just like you do!”

Her innocuous words sent a chill up your spine. Eying the stripes that crossed the cat’s legs, you felt a great unease begin to overtake your body. Her reasoning was not lost on you, the cats coat did quite resemble the jagged scars that covered nearly every inch of your body, and just like the feline in her book, your limbs were the most prominent location of said ‘markings’. You quickly shook your head, not wanting to dwell on it further. In hopes of moving on from the subject, the outpouring of words that flew from your mouth were jumbled and messy.

“O-oh, I see,” you stuttered, clearing your throat to steady your voice, “well you certainly picked a cute animal for me! Thank you baby, it was a good choice.”

She smiled at you innocently, a gesture that usually made your heart melt with affection. But as her tiny hands moved from the book to your arms, that smile did nothing but fill you with dread, the realization that you wouldn’t be getting out of this sticky situation hitting you like a brick to the face.

“Yeah mommy, the kitty’s marks are just like these ones,” her stubby fingers gently traced the old wounds, a look of reverence reflected on her cherubic features. “They make you look like that kitty mommy,” her little voice cooed, “I like them a lot!”

Your muscles constricted at her words, a slight tremor coursing through you as you involuntarily tightened your grip on her. She took note of this, looking up at your strained features with a puzzled expression on her face.

“Don’t be sad mommy,” she spoke assuredly, “I really do like them! I think they are pretty!”

Her words burned you, scorching the inside of your frozen shell of a body, leaving you feeling sickly and discombobulated. The room around you started to spin in a hazy blur, a wave of nausea making you nearly wretch. Your breathing grew erratic as you tried to calm yourself, inwardly repeating that your daughter was just a child, a little girl barely four years of age who had an incredibly limited view of the world. Her words were not meant to upset you. Her opinions were coming from a place of total naivety.

Yet still, the mental assurance did little to help with the extremely uncomfortable position you now founds yourself in. It wasn’t as if this was her first time noticing your scars. She had mentioned them before, her curious mind trying to piece together the reason that her arms appeared different from your own. Each time she brought your old wounds up you couldn’t help but feel flustered, responding with weak explanations and misdirection to try and quickly brush off her questioning.

The marks came from a silly mistake, or a childhood accident, or from a careless moment when mommy should have been paying more attention. It was always excuses on repeat. How many lies had you told her on this topic alone?

But even if they were lies, it beat telling her the truth. You didn’t want to have to explain where the scars on your body actually came from to anyone, let alone a child, and especially not to your own daughter. How could you possibly word it gently, or in a way that she would understand, when you barely understood why you had them yourself? How could you look her in the eye and tell her that these markings were a permanent sign that you had been very, very hurt and that it was her own fathers hands that inflicted the pain?

Reliving the horrific moments that left your body in such a state was overwhelming enough on its own, but to also have to lay bare her father’s sins, relay to her the unsavory proclivities of a man who she idolized and adored, was not something you were keen on doing.

She didn’t know her daddy like you knew him. She was ignorant to the constant state of concern you lived in, unaware of the worries that plagued your mind and kept you up each night. All the troubles of the hell she had been born into were completely lost on the small, carefree girl.

But honestly that was for the best. You had made an unspoken promise the moment she entered your life that you would protect her no matter what. From the day of her birth onward it became your mission to keep her as happy and healthy as possible.

Ren had broken you, but she did not have to suffer the same fate.

At this point in her life, your daughter knew nothing of her daddy’s profession or ‘hobbies’, and you wanted it to remain that way for as long as possible, if not for the rest of her life. You dreaded each time Ren came home from an auction, terrified he may let casually slip too many details about his ‘lively client’ or that he would carelessly step through the door with the stains of his liaisons still littering his clothes. Your daughter was at an age where she was brimming with questions, and she was relentless in getting answers to each question she asked. Everything had to be explained in complete detail for her to be satisfied, drop the subject, and move on. She was a smart little thing, possibly too smart for her own good. You highly doubted a silly joke or wave of the hand would assuage her whirring mind should Ren grow too impetuous in her presence.

And should her questioning become too pesky, you fretted over what Ren’s reaction to it may be. The more you tried to avoid thinking about it the more you seemed to fixate on the topic, pondering just how much goading it would take from your daughter before his temper would rear its ugly head. You, above anyone, had firsthand experience in just how volatile the man could be, the scars that littered your body a testament to his turbulent emotions and violent outbursts.

Looking back on it now, it’s a wonder you survived any of it at all.

Ren often told you he loved you, each confession spoken through honeyed words that spilled from his lips easily and often. And while you didn’t doubt those words (you knew better than to, at this point), you also knew his sweet nothings weren’t merely a term of endearment, they also served as your curse. He loved you, but he also loved your fealty to him, your adoration and worship of him and only him. Should you not reciprocate his feelings as quickly or ardently as he expected, the mere thought of whatever punishment he would concoct was enough to send you into a debilitating panic attack.

There were few things he loathed more than when you flinched from his affection or if you exhibited any sign of distress towards his presence, especially after he had spent so many years going above and beyond to provide for you, devote himself to you. You had learned early on to keel any feelings of aversion you had to his advances, several of your more prominent scars a brutal reminder of that misstep alone.

If your daughter uncovered the truth and saw her father for who he truly was, if she began to fear him the way you feared him, how would he respond? If not only his partner, but his own daughter started shying away from him, what length would he go to to correct this behavior?

Dwelling on it made your skin crawl.

But perhaps all of your worries were asinine. Despite his inclination for cruelty, Ren had never so much as raised a hand towards your daughter, even when she did act up. If anything, he was overprotective of her, barely letting her move faster than a brisk jog lest she fall and hurt herself. He hated seeing his little girl experience even a modicum of physical pain, mentioning to you previously that were he able, he’d keep her locked up in a padded room all day and night to prevent any foreseeable accidents or injuries. Surely it was just his idea of a joke, but the insinuation still made you cringe.

It was almost comical, just how greatly the manifestation of his affection for her differed from how he showed his love for you.

His domineering nature shielded her from experiencing any true pain. Every scrape, bruise, and cut she ever received was superficial, nothing that caused major bleeding or left a lasting impression. She had no way of knowing what had been done to you to cause the scars that marred your form, the torment and hell you experienced with each slash, smack, burn. Hell, she probably didn’t even really understand what a scar actually was. All she knew was that her mommy and daddy had strange marks on their skin that didn’t follow any kind of set pattern, weird jagged lines and indents that her soft skin was curiously free from. The mystery of it all was as puzzling to her young mind as it was enticing.

However, some mysteries were best left unsolved, and just as with each other time she brought up this hot topic, you found yourself unable to look into her clear, bright eyes and tell her any semblance of the truth. She may have been forced upon you, but she was your daughter. You loved her, and you refused to be the one to shatter her innocence. You would keep her ignorant for as long as possible, shielding her to the endless nightmare of your daily lives, even if it cost you your sanity.

“Mommy,” her voice jarred you, dragging you from your thoughts, “mommy did you hear me? I said I think they are pretty!”

“T-that’s… I…” You stuttered, struggling to find the right words to say, your voice coming out much smaller than you intended it to. The room felt like it had dropped thirty degrees, your body twitching in response to the sudden chill.

“Daddy told me he gave some of them to you, like this one,” her pudgy, cold finger pressed into the faded heart that resided on your chest, the first of many indelible sins he had etched onto your form. Only the top half of the carved symbol was viewable above the collar of your shirt, so she tugged at the loose hem until she could see it in its horrible entirety.

“Daddy said he gave you this one because he loves you so much,” her voice grew quiet, a thoughtful look in her eye as they drank in wounds you wished you could forget, “Daddy loves me too, right mommy? You think he’ll give me a cute heart someday too?”

You felt as if you had been hit by a train.

“S-top,” the words were forced from your throat, airy and breathless, as if someone was wringing your neck to make them come out, “p-please, just stop talking.”

“What did you say mama,” your daughters sing-song voice responded as her fingers continued to trace and prod your scars, “You are whispering, is it a secret?”

“I told you to SHUT UP!”

As if following your command, your booming voice instantly silenced the small girl. Unused to such a violent outburst from her mother, her happy-go-lucky nature quickly shifted to one of alert, her tiny body going rigid as she stared up at you with fearful eyes.

Seeing her in such a state and knowing that you were the cause of it would normally have killed you inside, making you fall to your knees to beg for the child’s forgiveness. But right now, the thin thread that had been holding you together had snapped, and your words rushed out in a torrent you couldn’t begin to quell.

“Shut up, shut up, shut UP!” You seethed, clasping your hands to your ears to try and block out your own intrusive voice, “Just STOP TALKING about it! What are you even saying? Why would you ever want to look like this?!”

Tears started to flood your eyes, blurring the image of the girl who had quickly jumped from your lap and was now cowering before you. Through your bleary vision, you could see tears were brimming her eyes as well.

“You… You have no idea,” your voice warbled, shaking in equal parts grief and frustration, “You have no clue what you are saying, so just STOP IT. KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT AND DON’T YOU DARE SPEAK OF IT AGAIN!”

You slunk from the chair down to the floor, burying your face in your cold, stiff hands. The soft blubbering of your daughter could be heard through your own sobbing.

“I-I’m sorry mommy. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Hearing her broken voice began to shatter the spell you had been under, instant regret jerking you roughly back to reality. Your head sunk lower, your body scrunching itself up as tightly as possible to hide from this cruel reality.

Your screams were born from deeply buried feelings of hatred, tucked far, far away as a means of self-preservation. For a moment, you felt as if you despised your daughter, her existence tethering you to this wretched excuse of a life, binding you irrevocably to Ren. But as you lifted your heavy head, glancing up to stare into her young face, a face so very similar to your own, a face contorted in panic and sadness over her mother’s abrupt descent into madness… you realized it wasn’t her that you hated.

It was yourself.

Your daughter didn’t deserve this. She deserved normalcy. She deserved a father that didn’t pose a threat to her. She deserved a mother that wasn’t ruined by his hands. She deserved a happy and untroubled life, not to be stuck being raised in a barbed cage, navigating her way through life with nothing but the shattered remains of a battered woman to guide her.

“I’m so sorry,” you choked under the weight of your overwhelming emotions, snot and tears running freely down your ruddy cheeks and chin, “I’m so, so sorry baby…”

“What the hell is going on?”

You hadn’t heard the front door open, nor had you heard Ren’s jubilant greeting as he entered your home. He had no doubt been upset by the lack of welcome-it was one thing to be ignored by a child, but his doting wife? That was not something he was not apt to look past.

But surely any feelings of annoyance or frustration fled from his mind the moment he entered the room, his eyes falling upon your crumpled, messy form collapsed on the floor. You cursed his arrival, upset that he entered the scene at such a compromising time, right as you were struggling to regain an ounce of composure and properly apologize to the little girl who had done nothing wrong.

“D-daddy,” your daughter’s voice warbled as she barreled towards him, colliding into his waiting embrace. You wiped at your face in a desperate attempt to hide your previous outpouring of emotions, doing your best to avoid eye contact with Ren as his sharp gaze quickly flicked from you, to his daughter.

This had already become enough of a scene without Ren’s interference, it was best to try and begin damage control now.

“Daddy I-I made mommy cry!” Tears continued to pour from your daughter’s eyes, her face twisting into a look of pure dismay. Her misguided admission of guilt made you recoil, knowing full well it would grant her no favors with the person she seeking comfort from. “I’m really sorry daddy! I didn’t mean to!”

After several endless seconds of silence, Ren spoke.

“… You made her cry?”

His voice was far sharper than it needed to be, further agitating the precarious state of affairs. In most cases he would have offered your daughter leniency, letting her get away with far more than she probably should. However that leniency was null and void if you ended up suffering in the process. Ren could not forgive anyone that caused you any duress (himself, of course, being the exemption) even if that person was his own flesh and blood.

“What do you mean you made her cry? What the hell did you do to her?”

“I-I don’t know,” she wailed, a fresh wave of tears spurred on by the accusatory tone of her father’s voice, “I just told mommy I thought her marks were pretty and then she started crying! I wasn’t lying daddy, I like them! I think they make mommy look really pretty!”

“Her marks…?” Ren’s look of vexation began to dissipate as the meaning of her words donned on him. He lifted his arm, rolling up his sleeve to reveal his own scars to the little girl. Pointing a clawed finger to them, he leaned down until he was looking her in the eye, “You mean like these?”

As she nodded her head vigorously in confirmation, Ren tutted, “That’s the reason for all the water works? An innocent compliment started all this fussing?” He scoffed, shaking his head, “Isn’t that a little bit… silly?

You tensed at the sound of his barking laugh, your frown deepening as an amused grin spread wider across his lips. You wished that you could say it was shocking for him to have such disregard after finding the two of you in such an agitated state, but it was painfully in character of him to shrug off your misery and suffering as inconsequential. How he could so nonchalantly normalize this hellish situation he kept you and your child ensnared in, you would never understand.

Your daughter was apparently sharing similar thoughts, as her face began to once more morph into a pre-sobbing scowl. She was no doubt wounded that her father was not offering her the comfort she was seeking, her emotional state already greatly weakened by her mother’s venomous tantrum.

To help quell another round of tears, Ren pulled the child closer, wrapping her up in his arms so that her tiny form was nearly enveloped by him. “Shhh, no more tears angel,” he cooed sweetly, patting her head gently to appease her, “There isn’t any reason to cry, especially because… Well, you’re right! Mommy’s whole body is pretty, isn’t it? Her marks just compliment the beauty that’s already there.”

Slowly but surely, her tears began to dissipate. Hunched over shoulders loosened, and sniffles and hiccups gave way to even breathing. Like clockwork, her father’s gentle handling soothed her, the same touch that destroyed you offering her salvation.

As if under a spell, the turmoil that had overcome your daughter quickly began to vanish, her sobbing fading into quiet sniffles. Once she was fully calmed, Ren continued speaking, “That’s all you meant to say to mommy, right angel? I’m sorry she took it the wrong way, she’s probably just tired or hungry, you know how mommy gets. She’ll get over it in no time flat!”

Heat spread through your body at his flippant dismissal of your feelings, an indignant blush lighting your cheeks as you gripped your hands tightly at your side. Your previous emotional episode left you all but drained, but your will to fight back against his callous commentary could never truly be contained.

“In fact, I bet she is already over it now,” Ren’s voice took on a jovial tone as he directed his focus solely on you, “Aren’t you, pumpkin?”

With the ball suddenly in your court, you flinched as both sets of expectant eyes fell on you. Your own eyes darted from Ren’s piercing glare, down to your daughter’s wide-eyed look of unbridled hope. You felt much like the rabbit that had been caught by the fox, stuck in a lose-lose situation. Seeing him hunched over her small body as she clutched to him as a life line, openly concerned that her mother may once more reject her while her father remained a bastion of strength and understanding, left you reeling. Either you would get heated again and stay the villain, but possibly hold on to an ounce of your dignity, or concede to Ren and have yet another piece of your soul wither away and die-the price to pay so that your daughter could remain in blissful ignorance for another day.

“Aren’t you, pumpkin?” He repeated himself slowly, enunciating each word. The kindness in his voice serving only as a mask for the threat buried beneath.

“Y-yes,” you responded quickly, shooting them both a smile you hoped was convincing, “I am very sorry, baby. Daddy is right. Mommy is just… tired.”

A serene smile lit her face, your words placating her. Seeing her happy once more helped relieve a bit of the ache in your own heart, making the lie worth it.

“Good, good,” Ren affirmed with a nod, carefully detaching himself from your daughter as he stood, “but you know little one, mommy deserves some love too, don’t you think? She may have been in the wrong, but it’s not nice to make her cry like that. Why don’t you go give her a hug, hm?”

With no further persuading necessary, she quickly padded over to you, hopping on your lap with so much enthusiasm that it nearly knocked the wind from you. Her arms tightly latched around your torso as she smushed her face into your chest, rubbing it back and forth like she was trying to burrow beneath your skin.

“I love you mommy,” her voice spoke clearly, any hint of previous sadness long gone. You sighed, relieved that this dramatic chapter was over as you pulled your daughter closer to you.

“I love you too.”

During this show of affection, Ren had made his way behind you, slinking so deftly you hadn’t even known he had moved until you heard him chuckle softly behind you.

“This is what I like to see,” he spoke with a sickeningly dreamy sigh, “nothing makes me happier than when my two girls are happy.”

He placed his hands gingerly atop your shoulders, trailing them down until they rested on your arms. His thumbs pressed gently against the marred skin, rubbing in a small circular motion in an attempt to subdue you. His claws grazed your flesh, uncomfortably scratching against you as they snagged against your skin.

He planted a firm and lingering kiss to the side of your head, pulling away just enough that his lips grazed the shell of your ear. “There really was nothing to cry about,” he whispered breathily, his words quiet enough that despite your daughters’ proximity, she would have no chance of hearing them. “It’s almost unfair how gorgeous you are, scars and all. But you must know that, right my sweet pet? I tell you all the time.”

Ren took in a deep breath, releasing it in a shaky sigh, “Seeing these scars reminds me of all we have been through, all that we share. They are a symbol of our bond.”

One of his claws pressed down sharply, a small bead of blood pooling around the piercing. Leisurely he began to drag his finger up your arm, a thin red line following in its wake. You shivered at the burning sensation, but deigned to give him any reaction further than that.

“Don’t forget pumpkin, these pretty marks are a reminder of my constant love for you.” He chuckled softly, peppering a few kisses to the back of your neck while his claws slowly sunk deeper, “And right now I am feeling terribly sentimental, so for old times’ sake, why don’t I add a few more to remind you just how precious to me you are~?”

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ravers8fantasy · 2 months ago

Text

Punch out!! Characters if they did ghost hunting in some random scary abandoned manour ಠ_ಠ

its halloween szn!! They are in groups based on what circuit they are to cover more ground and chaos happens lawl I might make write a lil thing about this but who knows...

Sorry for any spelling mistakes!! I was rlly tired when I made this!!! also this is kinda alot of yapping so be warned....

minor circuit: third floor, 3 bedroom, 1 toilet, storage

von kaiser:

'Doesnt' believe in ghosts and says this idea is stupid (he is actually terrified of ghosts especially poltergeist's and wants to go home)

his flashlight ran out of battery at one point when he was by himself and he started running around and screaming for help

Because he kept saying ghosts didnt exist, he got into an argument with a very annoyed Disco kid

The team split because of it so it became Joe and disco on one side of the floor and hippo and kaiser on the other

He opened the door to a bedroom and heard a sound from somewhere underneath the bed. Bro screamed and fled for his life

Literally flinching at every single sound, he is starting to scare hippo because he literally looks like he is one scare away from a heart attack

Glass Joe:

Currently sitting in the 2nd bedroom on the floor after realising that the door's hinges had broken so he was stuck.

Brought a camera, ended up swapping it for the spirit box disco got from Piston who had gotten it from doc louis which, he found kinda odd

Got jumpscared by his own reflection in the bathroom next door, disco was laughing so hard at him

Then the shower turned on by itself with a loud hiss and they both ran out screaming thinking a ghost or demon was gonna idk tickle them or smth-

Disco was too scared to use the spirit box by himself in the dark in the 2nd bedroom so joe offered to do it

absolutely has no idea how to use a spirit box or what to say if it actually picks up a frequency

"bonjo- I mean, hello?...."

"............."

"uh.... Im joe.. I like bread do you?"

".........yes"

"oh! Well awh that's great mabye your not so scary-"

"....must run..joe."

".......o-oh merde why me"

Disco Kid:

"Joe take deep breaths okay- DEEP BREATHES JOE BREATH IN 1,2 AND OUT"

He helped plan this with Hondo and Sandman, Disco LOVES horror films, so he thought he was going to be a pro at this paranomal stuff

He kept yapping about how good he is at ghost hunting and basically just didnt stop talking

But when he realised Joe was stuck in the bedroom, he started freaking out and ran to find the others

Disco was excited to explore... Emphasise on WAS cus now bro is crying and screaming like zombie ghost Jason Voorhees is chasing him with an axe

Is using joe's camera as a flashlight but he keeps accidentally flashbanging himself in the face so now he is screaming in terror and pain bless

King hippo:

Bro is literally eating a packet of crisps whilst this is all going down he is unbothered af

Hippo doesnt get scared that easily so he was like the group's rock until the argument between disco and Kaiser

Got such a shock from the shower turning on thought that when he grabbed the sink it broke

hey its an old house of course its not going to be the most structurally intact😈 ...

Did NOT like the sight of the 1st bedroom, especially the doll which he swear's blinked at him

Hippo pointed out he could hear screaming from one end of the floor to kaiser, so they both quietly creeped their way and peeked around the corner....

It was just Disco, who told them what happened. Hippo managed to get the door unjammed by literally running into it so it flew off its hinges

They may of also released something else as well. Joe thinks he saw something pale dash into the darkness whilst they were walking away from the bedroom...

Major circuit: middle floor, living room, music room and master bedroom

Piston Hondo:

"OH SHIT THE PIANO WHERE'S MY SALT WHERE IS IT, DON WHERE DID YOU PUT IT."

Really wanted to go ghost hunting with the others despite his extreme paranoia and superstition

Has a note book, he writes down any thing paranormal which happen (he has also filled in a corner with doodles because he is getting more scared as the night goes on)

Since he is the fastest out of them, he often runs back and forth to check on the camera's in the corridor

Bro is running this place like its the military, he is making everyone (including Tigers clones) investigate

Thought he saw a ghost and yelped like he was being murdered... But it was just Don in the distance checking his toupee in a mirror

Bear hugger:

"do you think the ghost's dont like us invading their property?" - seconds before he fell deep asleep

Him and his emotional support squirel are NOT very happy to be here

Was keeping his cool, until he heard someone screaming and got a bit scared (very scared, he is very much scared)

Keep's jumping whenever the floorboards creak in the living room, he points out how the building isnt very structurally stable😈...

Following Piston around because unlike the other two, Piston seem's like he actually knows what he is doing (he doesnt, he is using his knowledge from TV)

Fell asleep in the piano room so he didnt notice the piano playing by itself lol

Great tiger:

"I think if the ghosts didnt want us here, they would of killed us already- THE PIANO IS PLAYING ITSELF YO"

He was so down to do some hunting, he even brought a sleeping bag because he thought they were gonna have a sleep over in the master bedroom

Started scrapping with a piece of loose wallpaper on the floor because he thought it was a ghost trying to get him

Used his clones to help, has one on the upper floor so he has a vauge idea of what happened with Joe

Also got jumpscared by his own clone whilst rounding a corner and it was just standing there (happened multiple times)

Heard the piano playing by itself and got so excited he was literally jumping up and down whilst the others freaked out

Don flamenco:

"OH MY GOD OH WE ARE GONNA DIE- THE PIANO ITS- NO ITS THE END- I WILL NEVER SEE MY CARMEN AGAIN"

Thinks a demon is lurking around every single corner on the floor

Bro is acting as if he is actually in a horror film, his ass is NOT helping look for any potential ghost's

Stopped by a mirror but swore he felt someone looking at him so he screamed like a fucking SOS SOS alarm and knocked the mirror over

Got so scared at one point he literally started crying, he doesnt even believe in ghost's as well

Eventually got the courage to go into the living room, but of course he had make it dramatic :

"hey Don, I dont think its a good idea to go in there, the floor was kinda weird pal.."

"no compañero, I MUST do this, I MUST get over my fear of the unknown"

"uh I think Bear is right Don come back to the corridor"

"listen Don, your are NOT the terminator"

"NO. I know im not... For I am THE Don flamenco, I do this for you my brothers, for the future... and for CARMEN MI-

Don then fell through the floor. And everyone started screaming. Womp womp dw he is fine it wasnt that much of a drop. None of them noticed a pale figure sneaking behind them though...

World circuit!!! : ground floor - parlour, kitchen, maid quarters and entrance

Aran Ryan:

Is more interested in what valuables the rooms are hiding than what ghosties are lurking because he knows he would fight a ghost if it appeared in front of him

Sandman asked if he brought anything useful and bro pulled out a ready to make molotov cocktail kit he had prepared

Hid inside a coat of armour and chased bull around until he fell over and got a nose bleed and some bruising

Says he got chased by something but, no one believes him because he also lied and said it wasnt him who chased bull around so-

Because of that he ended up getting told to "STAY TF IN THE PARLOUR ROOM" by Sandman, so now he is solitary confinement by himself and started to make the molotov cocktail

Was interupted when a very confused Don fell through the roof and landed on the sofa, followed by alot of screaming from the rest of the major circuit from above

Soda popinski:

Dude is unbothered af he just wants to drink juice fr

Well he was until he saw the pale ghost thing which chased Aran, now he just wants to leave

Got jumpscared by a stray tiger clone and split his juice, got mad and started trying to fight it

Laughed at bull getting chased by Aran in the armour, also laughed at macho when he screamed embarrassingly high after accidentally ringing the maids bell

Was NOT happy when he ran out of juice from stress drinking after hearing screaming from up stairs

Started running to check but because he is so tall he ran into the top of a door frame and fell back like slipping on a banana peel

Bald bull:

keeps telling everyone to shut up because everyone is just screaming now

Keep's knocking stuff over when investigating, thats pissing him off

Stressed af after Aran scared him with the armour stunt

I dont think his scream would be that bad it would kinda be like an "ARGGH"

He screamed like that when he saw the ghost at the end of the corridor and ran away screaming like he was actually going to die

Got into a massive argument with macho about the toilets, bull said he would wait for macho to finish but macho kept saying he is terrifyed and that something would get him

Super macho man:

Keeps posting about it on socials

"hey dudes!!! Totally wicked in here Aran wae 'grounded' by Sandy LOL"

"hey dudes!!! @.DonFlamenco just fell through the roof mega lolz!!"

"hey dudz !1 soda is unconscious. Not good not swag"

"ghosts are bogus ghosts arent real its all bogus right gang?????"

Doesnt believe in ghosts he kept saying its all a bunch of bogus

Was screaming bogus even whilst being chased by the pale ghost around the kitchen

Keeps screaming about everything. He literally saw bull walk out of a room and he started screaming

After he got chased by the ghost he genuinly thought he was going to get possesed by some demonic entity he was crying hysterical

At one point really needed to use the toilet and got into an argument with bull because he said he thought something was gonna grab his ass if he used the toilet so he wanted someone with him

Sandman:

Trying to keep himself together, but so much is going on around him he is now really jumpy and is ready to call it a night

Was trying to listen out for any strange sounds in the maid quarters, could only hear macho screaming

Also got chased by the ghost after he was seperated from the rest, was gonna fight it but realised how stupid that would be and look for him

Also ended up screaming at macho that no ghost was gonna grab his ass in the toilet and to just go in there by himself

So, so confused about everything, became even more confused after finding Don and Aran looking at the major league from the hole which Don fell through

Got everyone back outside somehow, by the end of the ghost hunt he was also pretty terrifyed by that old place

OKOK that was alot of yap holy moly but all done!!! Hope you enjoyed. (◍˃̶ᗜ˂̶◍)ﾉ”

*☼*―――――*☼*―――――*☼*―――――*☼*―

"so doc! Did I scare them?"

"well mac baby, I think you did more than just scare them..."

Ta da! Mac was the ghost all along😼 he wasnt allowed to go with them to investigate because of his age so Doc suggested he should play one massive prank on them instead (spirit box was actually a walkie talkie, mac had a costume, hid underneath beds etc) sorry if this was alot to read!! Sorryy!!!!

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