#i’m never looking at [REDACTED] in the same way again

[sakiii-leoneed]

there’s someone simping for my (orange) brother and i KNOW HER.

[transtravisstoll]

Batkids Age Reversal List

want to do a age reversal AU for the batkids but why do the comics keep fucking up their ages this has taken me weeks of trying to figure out i’m gonna off the DC comic writers. if you have any better ideas for their ages pls let me know im going to gouge my eyes out if i have to do any more math.

alfred: ???

-immortal. fuck you. he looked death in the face and told him to stop tracking mud all over his freshly mopped floors and that dinner was at eight.

bruce: 39

-had damian at eighteen bc i wanted it to be as close to his age gap with dick in canon as possible but i am not having this man fathering a child at 15

damian: 21

-came to gotham at age 8, refused to be a normal kid bc he was literally raised an assassin and bruce doesn’t know how to encourage nonviolent activities in children so letting him fight crime seemed… better than being an assassin. he, at the age of eight, could not come up with a name that wasn’t fucking Terrifying so whenever gordon asked for his “little shadow”‘s name they were suspiciously silent bc no, damian, you can not call yourself Vengeance or Malice. the media called him shadow and it stuck.

duke: 18

-wanted to keep his age gap with tim similar, but with duke being the older one, instead of doing dick and jason’s age gap bc it makes more sense this way.

-his parents got jokerified when he was 12, and so did a Lot of people in the Narrows. it absolutely decimated their little community so duke became signal. he didn’t fight crime, he gave back to his community, he helped with the cleanup. bruce ended up basically kidnapping the poor kid. (duke ran away from his foster home because he wasn’t a glorified babysitter or maid, fuck you, he can crash on couches.)

STEPH: 16

-again, wanted to keep the age gap between steph and tim the same but keeping steph the older one. makes more sense this way!! leave me alone.

-became spoiler at 13, was only spoiler for a year before she became shadow at 14 for about six months in between damian and jason. there was a six month period as well where bruce didn’t have a shadow and alfred literally had to bribe steph to be shadow bc he wasn’t abt to let a kid run around the gotham night without knowing batman was two steps ahead of them. plus, having a kid with him made bruce more cautious.

TIM: 15

-FINALLY got to mimicking the age gap between dick and jason in canon

-never becomes shadow, actually, he takes bab’s spot as their computer wiz. doesn’t call himself oracle though because he fucking sucks at making names. calls himself override (barf).

-also, steph is the only one who hes told he’s override to and also knows the batfam’s identities

-duke knows tim is override bc he’s scary like that!! tim doesn’t know duke knows he’s override, but duke knows that tim knows their identities and tim Also doesn’t know that. duke is fr terrifying. love him.

-tim figured out the batfam because of duke’s meta abilities bc he’s also scary like that

Jason: 14

-oh, he’s… currently out of commission. became shadow at 12.

-didn’t die in ethiopia, because fuck that plot. he was doing a stakeout but the joker had kidnapped this itty little baby (an eight year old boy) who he found running around the gotham night. jason went out of commission saving that little boy. what does out of commission mean? who knows. could be dead. could be severely injured. kidnapped. the possibilities are endless.

-i think it’s fucked that the comic fans voted for a fifteen year old to die by the joker. y’all are crazy.

cass: 13

-mimicking jason and cass’ age gap with cass being younger bc it makes more sense leave me alone

-isn’t a Batman approved shadow (yet) but she shadows batman anyways after jason’s… indisposed. the bonus is that batman doesn’t Know he has a shadow but gotham is kept in the dark abt shadow being (redacted) because cass and jason had the same exact fucking build, okay, jason hasn’t gotten his growth spurt yet (because of childhood malnutrition) . weird how batman lost weight though, after he went on that rage incident after the latest arrest of the joker. he’s leaner now. (is it the same batman? who knows.)

dick: 8

-mimicking the tim and damian age gap, bc it’s six years in my head leave me alone.

-huh, jason went out of commission saving an eight year old and dick is eight… suspicious. coincidence? hm.

babs: 7

-mimicking the babs and dick age gap but with babs being younger bc i think she’s older in canon? unsure. DC please i’m going to kill you and then me.

[oristian]

S E C R E T S A N T A ; —

HO HO HO, I hope you enjoy your gift @thedeviltohisangel !! I really and very thoroughly enjoyed this piece and it really allowed for me to connect back with both Nesta and Cassian in such a unique way! It is currently just a one shot, but I have been entertaining the idea of writing a second part from the other perspective—I will be sure to let you know if I do so! Without further ado, I so hope that you enjoy this gift! AO3

SONG 01 — SONG 02

WARNINGS — Mentions of death, alcohol abuse, depression, and language

@acotargiftexchange

Redacted (I’ll name you later),

I tried to light you on fire, but the leather only singed; it did not burn. Rhys told me that it was borderline pathetic that I would not even use you for a day. What does he know? Perfect hair. Perfect reputation. Perfect family. I am the only stain in his life—The fucked up adopted brother that should have been left in that orphanage. They took pity on a little boy in rags, but little did they know how he would grow up to abuse their kindness.

Cassian

15 DECEMBER

“My name is Cassian, and I … I am an alcoholic.”

The group replied in a practiced, almost mechanical monotonous chorus: “Hello, Cassian,” accompanied by a few distracted grunts from the older folks. They sat in a loose semi-circle within the sterile, detached space of the YMCA gymnasium, the hum of fluorescent lights buzzing overhead and faded, yellowing motivational posters clinging to the paint-peeled block walls. Cassian sat at the head of the circle, occupying the lone backless metal chair, his body coiled tight, his teeth grinding. His palms, slick with sweat, scraped against the rough denim of his jeans as he tried to steady his nerves, the harsh light above him making everything feel too bright, too exposed.

The meeting had been in session for the better half of an hour, though Cassian had sat ram-rod straight, bitting down on his tongue as the others spoke. The sheer vulnerability of the group set him on edge, how comfortable these folks were with sharing their stories with absolute strangers.

“I killed someone.”

The words held a bitter aftertaste upon his tongue, his throat suddenly tight as the thoughts that had plagued him for weeks—months—finally breached the air surrounding him. The group was silent, save for the buzzing of the lights above-head.

Redacted,

That woman was there again, the one with the blue eyes. She never speaks. She wore something different this week—A large woven sweatshirt with a mini pegasus embroidered across the front. She looked damn funny with her blank expression and the grinning pegasus, but I liked it. It made her seem real. Human.

Cassian

05 SEPTEMBER

The light above the porch flickered as the car pulled into the driveway, a few moths knocking into the exposed bulb once, twice, three times before falling to the wooden slates below. The front door was ajar, a few stumbling individuals gripping the frame to steady themselves, and neon LED lights shifting between colors from the crack of the entryway.

Cassian whistled lowly under his breath before tossing his head back, downing the mini shot of tequila silver.

“The rules are as follows,” Rhysand began, pulling the key from the ignition and glancing at his the two men piled against each other in the backseat. “We leave by midnight, and no extra passengers allowed—Yeah, I’m looking at you, Cassian. Feyre would actually have my balls if I bring my car back smelling like cheap perfume again.” He adjusted the rear view mirror, sending a stare back to Cassian, raising a brow until his brother held his hands up in surrender, a wolfish grin tugging at his full mouth. “I got it. No girls, or else your balls will suffer—The imagery is great, by the way.”

The dreams all begin the same. A flash of light, a distant screech of wheels, and a scream so piercing it could cut glass. In this world, there is only the absence of pain—the broken ribs, shattered bones in his arms and chest, they do not exist. The repeated record scratch of that damned scream is pain enough. Recently, though, the dreams have begun to shift and something unexpected has seeped into the scene.

Hands; that of a woman. Hands that wrap around his wrists, thumbs that run against his scars, and lips pressed flush beside his cheek.

15 DECEMBER

Her eyes were the same shade of fresh fallen snow under the hue of midnight—an icy blue tinged with a ring of silver. She watched him as if she were undressing him, though not his clothes, him; down to the very essence of self that resided just beyond his ribcage. If his body were floating, she would be the gravitational pull that grounded him once more. Cassian felt breathless.

His hazel eyes darted to the chairperson, a dark-skinned woman with graying hair and wide-rimmed red glasses. “Call me Sandy,” she had said upon their first meeting, gripping his hands within her own and flashing him a yellowing smile. She was charming, albeit a tad bit spacey.

Sandy nodded towards him, a jut of her rounded chin, and gestured for him to continue speaking. Despite it all, she would listen.

Cassian cleared his throat and leaned forward, resting his elbows atop his knees, rubbing at his bruised knuckles.

“I used to say that it was, uh … That it was an accident.” His head was low, hair tumbling loose from his top knot and brushing against his face, and his gaze remained locked on the scuffed tennis shoes he wore. “The truth is,” his jaw clenched, “I chose to drink that night. I chose to take my brother’s keys. I chose to have that girl get in the car with me.”

Cassian trailed his fingers from his knuckles down to his wrist and back up, repeating the motion as he huffed a breath. “She told me no, at first. Said she was worried about the weather.”

Redacted,

That woman was at the coffee shop next to the YMCA before the meeting. She takes tea over coffee, Earl Gray, with two packets of sugar and a splash of cream—She doesn’t know that I saw her nose scrunch when she realized it was not sweet enough and she added four more packets. Seeing that content smile on her face was damn near worth nearly running into someone else.

She wore a leotard under her jacket. I wonder if she’s a dancer.

Cassian

11 OCTOBER

“You need to see someone, Cas.”

The mid-afternoon sunlight was a stark contrast to the previous pitch black, though his brother paid no mind as he drew the heavy drapes back. Cassian groaned, rolling over in his sheet cocoon and pulling his pillow over his head. Footsteps sounded across his room as his Azriel and Rhysand busied themselves with clearing the empty takeout containers and crushed beer cans from his furniture and opening windows to allow fresh air into the stuffy, pigeonhole apartment.

The pillow was ripped from his hands. Cassian slowly opened one eye, glancing blearily up at Azriel.

“I heard you got fired,” Azriel frowned, crossing his arms around his broad chest. He wore a dark-wash jean jacket, and Cassian had to remind himself that the temperature had begun dropping—though, it had been weeks since he last stepped foot outside.

“Eris has a big mouth. Did he tell you my shitting schedule, too?”

Rhysand slammed his fist against the wall, his teeth clenched as he turned fully to face Cassian. “You just are not getting it, are you, Cassian?” The light reflected off of his brother’s face, tears welling in his indigo eyes as he gripped the doorframe, his chest heaving from the exertion. “We’re fucking losing you right in front of us. You don’t give a shit, do you?”

The door slammed shut in his wake; the glass from the frames shattered as they hit the floor.

Cassian knew that he was dreaming—could see the headlights and hear the scream, but he was floating. Weightless. Adjacent to him was a cracked door, a soft ambient glow emitting from the viewport. Classical music poured from the opening. Despite himself, Cassian shouldered forward until the golden knob was gripped between his fingers.

And there she was, the light reflecting off of her fair skin and cascading down her braided bolden-brown hair. Her body moved as if it were made of liquid; up and down, around and back, as if the music flowed freely through her.

The dancer pivoted on her heel, facing him.

05 SEPTEMBER

Her body was pressed flush up against him, her back and his chest rutting together and he gripped her waist, her hips moving back towards him as the liquor and music removed their inhibitions.

Cassian knew that she was some younger girl from his graduate seminar, some advanced non-major that had too many credits and needed to be moved upwards to remain on scholarship. He had flirted relentlessly with her throughout the semester, but he knew that she prioritized her academics over romance and rejected him just as fiercely.

Until that evening, when she watched him walk into the foyer and pulled him onto the dance floor, maneuvering his hands so that he was touching her bare skin.

Fucking finally.

Redacted,

The physical therapy is much less humiliating, and moreso actually something that I look forward to. The doctor says that my recovery is progressing much faster than originally anticipated, though my damned knee still hurts. Everyday. Walking is fine, that is slowly getting easier.

I may never run again. That is my worst fear.

Cassian

15 DECEMBER

“There had been a flash flood warning that afternoon and it had started raining halfway through the party. The roads were wet and the visibility was too low. No one should have been driving that night.”

A hand pressed atop his shoulder, fingers squeezing assuringly. Cassian did not have to look up to know; she would always root for him, despite it all. Though, it was debatable if he deserved such kindness—such care.

“I had crossed lanes, couldn’t see the fu—I could not see the lines.” He could see it so very clearly in his mind; the solid yellow lines, the headlights, the night sky as the car overturned—

He watched her dance. The rhythmic movements of her body, paired with the dynamics of the scene, painted an artwork so beautiful that it brought tears to Cassian’s hazel eyes. He tapped his foot along with the best of the music, humming softly under his breath.

He yearned to dance with her, to take her hand within his own and sing a duet only audible between their bodies. Though, would she have him? A man with sins far deeper than scars.

What would she say if she knew?

12 OCTOBER

Cinnamon, and the scent of something full, aromatic and nutty, wafted in from the side kitchen as Cassian entered in through the door. The man shrugged off his overcoat and hung it from the rack before toeing his shoes off in their wake. From deep within the house, he heard laughter and the patter of children’s feet as they ran across hardwood.

“Uncle Cassian!” Something small, yet incredibly hard, slammed into his shins. Tiny arms wrapped around one of his legs and Cassian bit down on his lower lip, grinning softly as he glanced downwards at his nephew, Nyx. The soft blue eyes that stared back at him were reminiscent of Nyx’s mother, Feyre, but the wild grin on his face was all Rhysand—a mix so perfect of the two that even Cassian sometimes struggled to keep up.

Cassian roused Nyx’s dark hair and the toddler giggled, scrunching his nose and bringing his shoulders up to his ears. “Hey, buddy, I missed you.”

He was led into the living room where the other children were spread out on the carpet, various games and toys layed out around them. Cassian took a seat in the brown leather recliner and pulled Nyx up and onto his lap. Glancing upwards, he caught sight of Azriel and Gwyn playing a card game at the back table—though, Gwyn were on her second loss, it appeared, and she was instructing Azriel to show her the inside of his sleeves. Azriel smirked back at his wife, a teasing sort of smile, “I have no idea what you’re saying.”

“Uncle Cassian, I heard that you’re sick. Do you need to go to a hospital?”

Heart stuttering in his chest, Cassian met the worried state of his nephew. Despite himself, he allowed a small smile to form on his mouth. “Uncle Cassian is a little sick, Nyxie, but I will get better soon. Pinky promise.” Nyx furrowed his brow and puffed out his cheeks before leaning forward and pressing his lips to Cassian’s face. “There,” Nyx said as he smiled widely, “mommy says kisses make everything better!”

Cassian rubbed his fingers against his skin, his throat constricting. “Yeah, buddy,” he muttered after a slight pause, “they always do.”

Cassian,

I hope you don’t throw this away. Here is the number and address of a really good therapist. Her name is Alis and she really helped me after Tamlin. Please, if you do this for anyone, do it for yourself.

Alis — (XXX) XXX - XXXX

309 Rainbow Alley, Velaris, NC 23467

I love you,

Feyre

Redacted,

I am such a fuck up. I know that. My brothers know that. Hell, even my nieces and nephews probably know that. Do you know that, journal?

Alis knows too much—or, at least it feels that way. She has this look in her eye like she can see everything that I’ve hidden from everyone else. It’s weird, but sitting in her office, in that chair, I don’t feel afraid. I don’t feel like my chest is going to cave in.

She gave me this journal. Told me to write how I feel. Said it would make me better.

Cassian

05 SEPTEMBER

Pilfering the keys off of Rhysand was a simple task, especially with his brother passed out on a dirty frat house couch.

Cassian pivoted on his heel and jingled the key ring, grinning as the girl giggled into her hand, brushing her long hair back behind her ear. The goal was to get out of there, find something quick to eat—Cassian had a plan, and that plan included a greasy burger and fries from the local diner—and head back to her place where her roommate was out of town for the weekend.

It was pouring as they stepped outside and she had hesitated by the door, asking if Cassian was sober enough to drive—she had considered staying the night at the house, but Cassian had assured her that he was fine, that they would be fine.

“You’re gonna love the diner, baby,” he had said as they piled into the car. She had smiled softly at him and the reflection of the rain on her skin made her look almost ethereal.

Cassian stood, tired of waiting for the woman to come near enough—his fingers itched to touch her skin, to know her beyond the scene. She continued dancing, though, as he walked behind her. His breath caught as she spun, turning to him, her face merely inches from his own.

That face—that damned face, was the same of the woman from the meetings. The same sharp chin. The same steel blue eyes. The only difference was the lack of her braided updo; her hair was wild and free, framing her face and disappearing down the length of her bared back.

She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

“Please,” he whispered, desperation intertwining with his tone. “Please tell me your name.”

The woman only stared blankly at him for merely a moment longer before hooking her hair behind her ears—arched ears, covered in silver jewelry—and stood on her tip toes. Her lips pressed softly against his cheek before she whispered something faint in his ear. She pulled back, cradling his face in her hands.

“Find me in the next life, Cassian.”

01 NOVEMBER

The ticking of the time clock, paired with the soft waterfall noise of the bonsai tree figurine perched precariously on the edge of the mahogany desk, filled the silence.

Alis had long since finished compiling this session’s notes and she instead took to staring at Cassian, her brow raised and her lips pulled taut. He felt as if he were being observed under a microscope and he almost wanted to ask the woman for a blanket—something thick to wrap himself within.

“Have you been taking your medication?”

The medication was an anti-depressant, his second filing in the last thirty days, and it was the one thing in his life that remained consistent. “Yes,” he responded hoarsely. Morning and evening, the pill was the first thing he took before beginning any standard routine. It appeared to be working, in a way. Cassian felt less numb recently.

Alis nodded. “Good. Now, about the meetings I asked you to go to—Have you gone yet?” The meetings in question were hosted at the local YMCA, and Alis’ older sister volunteered as the chairperson. Alcoholics Anonymous. A group of others who may be able to relate to what he is going to, even if it was not to the same extent.

Though, Cassian has not felt the courage to step into that gymnasium. For the last two weeks, he had stayed silent in the adjoining hallway and only listened.

“I—I’m getting there,” was all he said, his focus falling back to the bonsai tree.

He has not dreamed since.

Redacted,

I think I am ready to talk about what happened. I cannot keep living like this, as a shall of who I was. I cannot change what happened, no matter how badly I want to reverse time and stop myself from taking those keys from Rhys. There is no bringing her back.

I have to live, even if the days get hard. I cannot let those hard days win.

I wonder why that woman is in the group. She never speaks. Is she like me?

Cassian

15 DECEMBER

“I swerved to avoid hitting the other truck and went over the guardrail. My seatbelt locked into place, but she had not been wearing one.”

Cassian licked his lips and finally looked upwards at the other folk, his eyes red-rimmed and his hands uncoiling from fists atop his thighs. “She died on impact.”

The blue-eyed woman stared back at him, quizzically, and he could have sworn something akin to sympathy softened in her gaze. Cassian almost wanted to ask her what she felt, what she thought of him, and where she could relate. Above all else, he wanted to hear her speak.

“She was twenty-two and a Master’s student. She wanted to be a doctor.”

Sandy once again placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, and Cassian placed his own hand atop her’s, squeezing as he offered her a small smile. “I cannot reverse what happened that night,” he said at last, the memory of that final, harsh scream ricocheting within his mind, “but allowing myself to waste away is benefitting no one. I need to live, if only for myself.”

Cassian stood, finally, despite the shake in his knee, and walked out of the gymnasium.

Redacted,

I wonder if I will ever name you. Thank you for being here for me. I would like to think that I am better now.

Cassian

24 DECEMBER

“Earl Gray, six sugar, splash of cream. Oh, and a vanilla scone.”

Cassian glanced over his shoulder at the woman, her brow raised high in amusement, as he handed the barista his debit card. “Memorizing my order now, huh?”

It had been an off-chance that they would run into each other at a local shop a whole town away from the YMCA, yet here they are—Cassian knew the fates above had worked overtime to make this work, and he would not miss such an opportunity. He flashed her a grin.

“Believe in coincidences, sweetheart?”

The woman rolled her eyes, but he could see the twitch in her lip as she forced herself to remain expressionless. Cassian gestured to a table in the back and was overjoyed as she followed suit.

Cassian held out a hand. “To formally introduce myself, my name is Cassian. I am twenty-four, working to be a physical trainer, and I love my family. I am allergic to pollen and Spring is the worst season ever created. I used to love to run, but I messed up my knee real bad.” The woman watched his outstretched hand for a moment, contemplating, before she took it into her own.

“Nesta. I’m a dancer without a studio and a sister without a family, but I’m—I am trying. To be better, I mean.”

Cassian’s hand shook in her grip, the memory of lips pressed against his ear and the whisper of a name—Nesta, Nesta, Nesta—said so softly, so lovingly, that he was nearly brought to his knees in a coffee shop. “Nesta,” he said, tasting the name upon his tongue. “Nes.”

He could have sworn that something sparked in those blue eyes as he said her name aloud.

Redacted,

I came across this the other day. It has been a few years, old friend. I missed you.

I asked Nes to marry me and she said yes. She wants a Spring wedding, but I sincerely hope that she is being playful.

I see Alis every week, even though the dreams are gone and the pills are finished. The pain in my knee never goes away, and that is the memory that grounds me to that night. Nes rubs a salve into the scars every night and kisses them. We dance together, as best as we can. Every night we turn the living room into our own personal studio and dance to the classics.

I wonder if she knows that we are the same.

Cassian

[ladybugsimblr]

Rolling Stone - Fall Bailey Kay, One of One

-

Shoutout to @soulsimmin for the other musical artists noted on the cover and general Team BK shenanigans. Somebody cut the check.

Article Below

Category: Baaad Bitch

10.59pm The initials BK pop on the screen indicating Bailey Kay has joined the Soom call. The camera flashes on and my heart skips a beat. I hear her soft but firm voice say “Kiss” and another face appears in the view. Bailey’s husband Quinton leans in for a kiss as requested. The two quickly exchange “Love you’s” and adoring looks and then he’s gone as fast as he appeared. Bailey Kay turns to me and I now have her undivided attention. She flashes that gorgeous smile and my heart skips a beat again.

“Sorry. Hi! Thank you for agreeing to meet with me this late. I hope you’re a night owl too.” Absolutely not. I’m normally in bed by 10pm, but who says no to the Queen B when she agrees at the last possible second to her first interview in ages. I awkwardly reply “I am tonight!” and she laughs, exclaiming “I like you!” Phew! Any remaining tension and nerves are gone. Let’s get into this.

Channeling my glitteriest of kitties I jump right in and ask “Where are the visuals? We the butterflies are begging for the music videos and performances.” Honestly I expected a glare or an eye roll in return, but I get a sly smirk instead. “You are the visual”

I instinctively look at the small image of myself on the screen thinking I did too much with my look for this call. Bailey must have sensed my confusion and continues: “Butterfly is about celebrating life, love, and freedom, overcoming struggles and transforming into your best, highest self. I didn’t want to dictate how anyone experienced those things with the typical visuals. But I did want to get the party started so I gave you the first step- the music.”

“So you dropped the album and bounced to let us party and figure it out for ourselves?”

“You are funny! But yes, kinda. And look what happened! You all started your own challenge and created the visuals, and all I had to do was sit back and watch. Also I really didn’t leave y’all empty handed. I thought we killed it with the pics in the Butterfly Box. But I can’t forget the hive is the hardest to please and I love that. Keeps me on my toes.”

“Ok, I see the vision, but why literally leave the country and go on vacation during an album rollout? That’s unheard of!”

“Ok two reasons. The first is that was what I needed to do. That was my way of celebrating. I told my baby girl that putting out an album was like graduating. I fought hard to overcome my own issues and dark places and now that the project was out to the world, I needed to release and just be with my family, my babies.”

“And the second?”

“Because I can. I’m THAT girl! Deadass!” Again with a smile and a laugh. BK might be the nicest bad bitch I’ve ever met.

“What do you say to the critics who say the album is going to fail? There are rules to the game if you want to succeed.”

“I say check the streaming numbers and sales.” That eye twinkle and smile return one more time. “Rules are meant to be broken. Sometimes. Note to self: Redact that line before my terrors read this. But seriously if we did the same thing, the same way, every time, art, music, life would all be extremely boring. Tackling the unheard of and never been done before is my shit. I live for that. As far as succeeding… I’ve been lucky enough to have more success in my entertainment career than I ever dreamed of. Whatever I do from here on is the extra sauce and will not be measured by industry standards.”

“Speaking of the future, what more can we expect for Butterfly? Please say tour.”

“Ha! Ummm performances are coming. It’s time for me to party with the butterflies.”

“Ok, will they be on multiple stages in cities near all of us?”

“I can't with you! But I can say I’ll perform songs from Butterfly and the rest of the catalogue, on stage, soon. Stay ready.”

And ready we will stay. Ready for the Queen BK. One of One. Number One. The Only One.

[slushiepizza]

I Love You, Just Like This

Guy/Honey (Redacted Audio)

Loving has never come easy for Honey. Physical affection nor words of affirmation has never been their forte, yet they desperately wanted Guy to know that they love him more than they could express.

Tags : Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Honey works at Vesta and Kayla is Honey's Coworker, Struggles with Affection/PDA, Swearing

also on ao3

notes : SDHBSHDB this is my first fanfic ever;; and I don't really know what I'm doing

Sheets of torrential rain poured down on Dahlia. Honey looked down upon their now-ruined shoes as puddles started to form under the side of the office building that they’d taken refuge in. They shifted from one foot to the other. It’d been a long, tiring day of work and they’d do anything to crawl under the covers and sleep, yet the late-August weather didn’t seem to be on their side. Sighing, they pulled their work blazer against their cold, miserable body. 

A voice came from beside them. “Damn, it still hasn’t stopped raining?” 

“Yeah. Been thirty minutes and no signs of slowing.” 

Kayla, fellow Vesta Distribution Co. employee, started typing on her phone, the light of the monitor glowed against her face. “Are you also taking an Uber, or-? We could share the ride if we happen to live in the same direction.” 

“Uh, no. Thanks for the offer, though. My boyfriend is coming. Although there’s no telling when he’ll be here. Traffic and all.” 

“Huh,” Their co-worker looked up from their phone. “Is he also from work, or?” 

Honey gave a dry laugh. “No, but, you’ve met him, remember. It’s Guy, my plus one at your engagement party?” 

“...Right. I don’t know, I just assumed that you were friends or something. No offense, but the two of you seemed distant, is all. And I never really pegged you to be the type for relationships.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“I’m not sure, it’s your whole…vibe. I guess. You can come across as intimidating. Like, those new-hires you trained? Completely terrified of you. It’s like they’re trying not to shit their pants every time you give them feedback. Same thing with your boyfriend. It’s like you’re tense. You guys didn’t even hold each other’s hand or anything. That’s why I assumed you’re just friends. ” 

Honey tightened their grip on their work bag. “Really,” they said in disbelief, trying to not sound hurt.  “I don’t do it on purpose. And my criticisms were all constructive.” 

They ignored the second comment.

“I know,” Kayla reached out and patted them on the shoulder. “I mean, for what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re all that…imposing. Much. Anyway, my ride’s here. See you on Monday.” She took out an umbrella and walked away to the awaiting car. 

Honey was alone again, and it gave them all the time in the work to mull over their co-worker’s words. The bright, fluorescent lights of the skyscrapers of Dahlia’s Business District  made Honey feel small. As cars zoomed past, Kayla’s words echoed in their head. 

I just assumed that you were friends or something. The two of you seemed distant. 

It hit them like a pile of bricks. A dull, painful feeling wormed its way in their chest. The sound of rain against the pavement rang in their ears. 

“Honey!” 

They turned around to see him, and oh, how they ached. Guy fixed them with a toothy smile, and looked at them with more love than they deserved as he held the umbrella over their head. He giggled, “Aw, is my honey-baby cold? Tired, perhaps? Never fear, as your noble cavalier is here to rescue you.“ 

“Hey.” In the quiet of their car, his voice quieted to a whisper. “Long day at work?” 

“Yeah, it’s been a shitty day. I’m ready to pass out.” They cleared their throat  and mumbled. “Thanks, by the way. For picking me up.” 

“Of course. I’d never leave my amazing, beautiful, partner stuck in the rain. Alone, in the cold, craving the warm embrace of their sexy and handsome boyfriend.” 

“You shouldn’t have to. It’s late, and I know the shift at Max’s tired you out already.” 

Guy did look exhausted. Honey was well aware of how packed his schedule was, with the pitch meeting that ran all morning and his sixteen-hour shift at the pizza place. There were bags under his eyes, yet when he wasn’t looking at the road, his eyes still gazed at them so warmly. 

“You know that it’s nothing. You underestimate me, Honey! I’m very familiar with being tired, just like how you tired me out last night, eh-” 

“Guy!” They said, exasperated, yet a laugh escaped their lips. “You’re so stupid.” 

“Oh, you love me for it,” he sang as his right hand rested against Honey’s thigh, searching for theirs. Guy’s hand was warm as his fingers interlocked with theirs and gave a reassuring squeeze. 

Silence soon fell over the two of them like a blanket, and all Honey could think was the way the light from passing cars outside the window illuminated Guy’s soft features. His brows furrowed in concentration, yet his eyes were unbearably kind. His mouth curved into a relaxed smile like this was easy. Like loving them was second nature.

It was always like this, with Guy. They knew that he’d do anything for them, things beyond being stuck in bad-weather and traffic when he could’ve been resting after working all day. 

A heavy feeling washed over them. Did Guy know that they’d do anything for him, too? 

Honey loved Guy. More than anything. Yet this much love for someone was uncharted territory for them,  the vulnerable feeling wormed under their skin uncomfortably. A familiar line of thought came, one that they have visited and revisited multiple times whenever they thought about their boyfriend. 

Guy deserved someone who could love him properly. 

They knew this about Guy: when he loved someone, he’d love them with his whole being. It’s the boundless, unrestrained sort of love, with nothing held back. Everyone in his life would attest to that, even if they did so with an eyeroll and sigh. 

A memory came to mind. Back in college, when they weren’t dating yet, Honey had a horrible fever. It’d been their second night at Dahlia, and they were stuck in bed. Guy, the college-assigned roommate they barely knew at the time, stayed by their side with a bowl of chicken noodle soup when all of his friends were out on freshman-year parties. 

Caring for someone never came naturally for Honey. They were used to being there for themselves, and they just drifted. They came and went from people’s lives without saying a word, only making their presence known when necessary. 

It finally dawned on them; they should try harder, for Guy’s sake.

 Acting so indifferent towards him to the point that their coworker never knew that they were in a relationship with him was a clear sign that they haven’t been putting enough effort to love him. The pangs of guilt clawed at their insides, and they desperately wished that they didn’t have so many hard edges. 

“We’re hooome. Now it’s time for a shower and later we can be snug as a bug in a rug-,” Guy turned to look at them and paused. 

“...Honey? Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine.” 

They swallowed the lump in their throat. They felt so useless, here they were, being a burden to him again. Guy looked at them with a concerned expression.

”We don’t have to talk about it right now, if you don’t want to. It’s just that- There’s something’s on your mind, isn’t there?

Honey averted their gaze. Please don’t look at me like that. 

“Guy,” they started, trying to force the words out of their mouth.“Do you want me to…do more PDA?” 

Honey was horrified. It definitely was not how they wanted to sound. It’s embarrassing, almost juvenile. 

Guy didn’t laugh. His thumb ran soothing circles in the back of their palm. 

“Honey, no.” he frowned. “Where’d that come from?” 

“Well, a coworker said that she assumed that we were friends. Presumably because we seemed… distant. And she’s right, you know, it is a little weird that we don’t really do that when other people’s around. All because I’m afraid of people staring and I just- can't.” Honey felt warm tears started rolling down their face. 

“And fuck, Guy,” Honey choked back a sob. “I want people to know that I love you. I want you to know that I love you so damn much.” 

“Honey,” his voice sounded hurt. “Can I hold you?” 

As they nodded, he reached for them over the centre console and wrapped his arms around them. 

“I know, Honey. I know. You love me in ways that I can’t even describe. And you don’t have to do anything you feel uncomfortable with to prove that to others. ” 

His honey buried their face in his chest, staining his shirt, yet he paid little mind. “You gave me more love than I deserve. I know you love me because you stayed with me when I struggled to finish my manuscripts. Because you told me to rest when I was sick and refused to stay still.” 

“You were such a little shit back then,” they sniffed. 

“I know!” he laughed.” And you laid down with me until I fell asleep, even when you had a lot of work to do.” 

“I have no doubt that you love me, Honey,” Guy tightened his hold on them. “And I love you, just like this. Just as you are.” 

The rain outside the car slowed into a light drizzle, and in the stillness of the night, there were no witnesses to how Honey cupped the side of Guy’s face and kissed him. 

[ender--slime]

random little merch update i guess:

merch items will never take Creative Priority over my silly projects like cookiefish or the analog horror or video essays or Out of Game/Save Game or one off things like the puppet show. or even just Generally Drawing and Animating. but it is my job!! so it takes some form of priority! but that doesn’t mean i can’t have fun with it!

in terms of small merch items, i’m currently working on migrating all of my stuff from etsy to the same BigCartel that the captcha bags are currently on. this involves taking nicer photos of everything and bumping the prices down since etsy just straight up steals the money of sellers and i won’t have to worry about that anymore on bigcartel!

new stuff is also on the way! i have some Genesis Frog quicksand shaker charms being made, some Mettaton CD charms, and i’ll probably make some charms of my Mayor sticker because there needs to be more Mayor merch in the world. once the dave polaroid drawings are all done i’m gonna print those and have those as a fun polaroid set, like the ones on the omori merch site! ive got a general mettaton drop planned as well, including the CD charms but also some normal acrylic charms, some poster prints, and some other stuff! i’ve also got some handmade stuff in the works, small homestuck trinkets for display (that i think are quite funny) and cute little hand sewn dice bags themed after characters and HS aspects!

in terms of Big Merch. of course the pink and purple bags are still being made!! just waiting on those, but they should be all done soon and then i get 500 bags in my house to ship out one by one :p EEK

i have the blue and yellow samples now, and those come right after i’ve shipped out every pink and purple one!

i also have the consort pastel sweater and the horrorterror black sweater! i have the consort one already, and i’m currently getting a sample made for the horrorterror one. i honestly have no clue whennnn i will be able to open preorders for those because i’ll have to slot them in between bag drops (blue and yellow and then. black and red or whatever other mystery color i choose for that one. and then pink and purple again)… but i’ll figure that out!

and then after those. hoo boy. i have another piece of apparel in the works… non homestuck this time!! it’s an undertale thing that ISNT mettaton! i can do other things!! see!! it’ll be both a button up short sleeved shirt and a nice pullover sweater. but i have a bad bad habit of taking on tooooo many projects at once (i am the most stressed and depressed guy of all time right now) so that one comes LATER. Later. we will get to it when we get to it!! after all these other thangs

so ya!! projects on projects on projects cuz i gotta pay bills but if i become a “content creator” i’ll [REDACTED] so!! i’m excited about all of these! these will all be fun even tho they are stressful :)

and ofc my other non merch projects. my normal art stuff. will continue forever and ever !!!!

i don’t really have a good pinned post describing who i am and what i do, or even a decent website (i have a carrd i guess) that puts all of my projects in one place. so i’m currently working on a funky website as well! so hopefully soon all of the stuff i make will be in one spot for ease of uh. looking at them HEHEHE

[knivestothroats]

mug and/or after [REDACTED] for the wip ask game!

from mug:

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” The words came out thick and whiny. “I didn’t mean to, please, I’m sorry, please...”

“Mm. Unoriginal.”

Fletcher pulled back on his ring finger.

“WAIT-”

The bone snapped. Tommy screamed again, falling off into sobs. He struggled to catch his breath enough to beg as Fletcher moved their grip to his middle finger. He wracked his brains for what he could say to appease his torturer. In all his years of doing this professionally, his ability to beg never really made a difference in what happened to him. The quicker he gave the clients what they wanted, the quicker they could get it over with, but it never changed what was going to happen. 

And maybe it didn’t matter here either. Maybe Fletcher was going to bring the hammer down no matter what. Maybe it’s always going to end the same way. Maybe he’s doomed. 

from after [redacted]:

He should run. It wouldn’t matter - Fletcher could track him - Fletcher could shoot him - but -

Fletcher whistled, sharp and brief, causing Tommy to jump.

“Get over here now.”

Tommy walked the short death row trek until he was within Fletcher’s grasp. His eyes stayed on the ground. He began to sink to his knees, but Fletcher yanked him back up with a tight grip on his bicep.

Fletcher slung their arm over Tommy’s shoulder and gave him an encouraging squeeze. His hands were shaking, but he tried to focus on touching his thumb to his fingertips. Index, ring, pinky. Pinky, middle, index.

“Hey, look at me.”

Tommy forced himself to lift his head enough to meet Fletcher’s gaze.

“Did any of the other trainees participate in this?”

[katnissmellarkkk]

Hiiii! I wanted to write a little something simple for Everlark and decided to lowkey mix two requests! “A kiss on the chest” and “Katniss learning what they did to Peeta in MJ and kissing his scars”. It was supposed to be set Post-Mockingjay but I instead made it a sequel to my “Peeta wasn’t hijacked in MJ reunion oneshot AU”. If you haven’t read it, it’s fine, the title right there tells you everything necessary to know 😂.

I hope everyone who reads this likes it! I loved writing it and I would really appreciate anyone who enjoyed this to like/reblog! It makes me so so so happy 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹. Also thank you to all my constant encouragers, you guys make my day with all your sweetness 🥹🥹🥹🥹.

Summary : Katniss learns more about what they did to Peeta in the Capitol and sets out to try and make him better. [Non - Hijacked Peeta Mockingjay AU].

-

Burned. Check mark.

Whipped. Check mark.

Starved. Check mark.

Shocked. Check mark.

Tortured (with water and [redacted][redacted]). Check mark.

I toss the file back onto the table where it was left by Peeta’s doctors, unable to stare at it any longer. Unable to stomach reading every which way Peeta was harmed while held prisoner in the Capitol. Again. I’ve already read it upwards of ten times tonight.

It never gets easier. Reading the extensive list of his injuries, reading the details they managed to pry out of him, visualizing what horrible acts were done to to him, listening to his doctors confer among themselves in sympathy and disgust, they themselves deeply disturbed by what he experienced at the hand of the president himself.

“Sweetheart, would you make up your mind?” Haymitch snaps. He’s in the worst mood he’s been in a while.

“Huh?” I furrow my brow and glare up at him.

“Either read that thing or stop messing with it.” He indicates toward Peeta’s file. “I’ve sat here and watched you throw it down and pick it back up a dozen times already. It’s pathetic.”

“You’re pathetic, Haymitch,” I say back but there’s little bite in my tone. I’m too preoccupied with the image of Peeta trapped in a freezing cold cell, naked and bloody and alone and terrified, and it’s driving me absolutely insane. It’s suffocating me, from the inside out. It’s taking up all of the space in my head, leaving no room for even bickering with Haymitch.

And Haymitch knows it too.

Of course, he of all people should be able to read me. After all, the same stupid file — and his crippling remorse — is undoubtedly what’s put Haymitch in such an awful mood in the first place.

“Just go see him, Katniss,” he murmurs, giving me a pointed look. “Go. You’re of no use to him just sitting out here, reading about what’s already been done. Get up and go see him.”

He’s right and I know it. As much as I hate to admit it, I know Haymitch has me there.

But still, I stall. It’s not that I don’t want to see Peeta. The opposite, in fact. Since his rescue thirty-seven days ago — not that I’m counting exactly — I’ve spent copious amounts of time with him. I’ve spent every waking moment that I could in his presence and as many of my sleeping ones that I’m allowed.

The doctors aren’t really thrilled about our arrangement there. They want to keep watch on Peeta as he sleeps, to watch and study and take notes and examine him further, but evidently it’s rather hard to analyze his nightmares with me wrapped around his torso all night, like a protective pretzel.

It’s not that I don’t want to see Peeta right now. It’s the fact that I don’t think I can look him in the eye, after reading exactly what those monsters Snow hired did to him, and pretend it isn’t all my fault.

“I don’t think the doctors are done with him…” I mumble, avoiding Haymitch’s eyes now.

“Cut the crap, Sweetheart.”

“Go away, Haymitch.”

“Go see the boy or I’ll find a way for you to spend tomorrow filming a propo.”

I glare at him again. “Would you stop?”

“Coin is getting hungry for some new ones.”

“Okay, fine, you win!” I exclaim, springing up out of my chair. “Congratulations, Haymitch. You blackmailed me into going to see my own boyfriend. Happy?” I hiss, kicking him in the shin as I walk past his chair.

Not hard enough to hurt him apparently. Not even hard enough for him to care. Instead he picks apart my wording with a smirk. “Your boyfriend? How darn cute.”

“Shut up,” I call as I exit the room.

The last thing I hear is him making loud, obnoxious kissing sounds in my wake.

-

I slip past the doctors, both the head and the medical, and beyond the nurses and supply carts and trays of food, into the room where I’ve spent more hours in the last month than I can count on two hands.

“Hi,” Peeta whispers softly as I close the door behind me. He’s shirtless, in bed and seemingly half-asleep already, laying on his side beneath the sheets. Waiting for me.

He looks so much better than he did the night of his rescue. His bruises are healing nicely, he’s gaining weight and muscle back, his hair is clean and curly again — thanks to me and Thirteen’s strong, medicinal shampoo — and his skin is starting to lose that scary, pale, translucent look.

But he’s still so hurt. He’s still injured — internally far more than externally — and I swear, I can feel my heart swell up and break into pieces just looking at him too long.

“Hi, baby,” I murmur softly, crawling beneath the blankets and folding him into my arms. Even with all the weight lost, he’s much too large for me to hold completely, so I make due wrapping my arms around his neck, my legs around his waist and stroking the back of his head tenderly.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he says, burying his face where my neck and shoulder meet.

A wave of guilt ripples through me. “Sorry I took so long.”

But he shakes his head, still having no room for spite in his body. Even after everything he’s been through, he’s still so sweet. He’s still so warm and kind and generous.

Well, towards me at least. The same can’t be said for his behavior toward Haymitch, who he blames for leaving us both in the dark about the rebellion.

“You were worth the wait,” he whispers. “You’re worth every wait.”

I feel myself blush and cover it swiftly by kissing his cheek. “How was your tests today?” I ask, smoothing his hair back.

He shoots me a sardonic look now and I giggle like a little kid. Every day when his dry humor peaks through the darkness, I get filled with ridiculous, unparalleled — uncharacteristic — delight.

“Still tedious as ever?” I murmur, rubbing his shoulder with my pointer finger.

“Boring as ever,” he mumbles before closing his eyes again. He’s clearly exhausted from all the probing they did today. And I know I should sleep too.

I usually sleep whenever he sleeps, wake only when the doctors make me leave, spend as much time with him as I can before getting sent away. But tonight I just can’t. I can’t make my brain shut off, despite the fact that at least half the compound is in bed, the other not far behind.

And of course, even tired as he is, even with everything going on in his mind, he still notices my distress.

“What is it?” He whispers, not even opening his eyes.

“Hmm?” I feign oblivion.

“Katniss, I can see something’s wrong.” He opens his baby blues, peaking down at me through his long, tangled up lashes. He has the longest eyelashes I’ve ever seen on a boy.

“Nothing’s wrong,” I reassure him, kissing his upper arm because it’s the closest thing within my reach.

“You saw my file?” He’s fully awake and coherent now, his voice much stronger than before. His tone leaves no room for question, even if I could lie straight to his face.

“Yes,” I whisper, feeling suddenly nervous he’ll be angry. Maybe it was an invasion of privacy to read it, I don’t know. The doctors left it out, I just assumed it was okay. “Are you mad?”

“No.” He chuckles lightly before moving his hand down to my hip, tugging me closer if even possible. “No, I don’t care. Read it as much as you want.”

He really means it too. He really doesn’t care if I invade his privacy, dig into his business and overstep my bounds. I don’t know if I’d be so generous if the situation were reversed.

Then again, going by the things I just read, he’s already been tortured and humiliated beyond belief. I doubt he has any concern for privacy left.

“You can ask me anything, you know,” Peeta says after a minute and I cup his cheek in my hand, shaking my head instinctively. I can’t ask him to talk about what they did. That would be cruel.

Instead I lean up and kiss him on the mouth, slowly and softly. Conveying every feeling I have for him, conveying every ounce of affection and gratitude and longing pent up inside me.

“You don’t have to tell me anything, Peeta,” I whisper against his lips.

I feel his hand cradle the back of my head, massaging my scalp. “I don’t want to keep anything from you,” he finally says, resting his forehead against mine. “Not anything that you want to know.”

My eyes fall, breaking contact with his. I have questions, yes — understatement if I ever heard one — but I refuse to pry and I’m terrified to ask and I don’t even know where to begin after what I read.

But then something catches my attention. A thick, red, angry line, splayed right in the middle of Peeta’s chest. It stands out vividly against his pale skin and blonde chest hair and I can’t look away from it now.

“What’s this?” I murmur, running my finger lightly across the surface, clocking the way Peeta cringes a little at the contact. “Does that hurt?”

He looks at the wall behind my head for a long moment before nodding. “That’s from a whip.” He meets my gaze again before casting his eyes low. “I don’t remember what I did to earn it.”

“Nothing,” I immediately gasp, my head shaking and brows knitting together. The idea that Peeta earned anything that happened in that mansion blasphemous to my ears. “You did nothing, baby.”

“I know,” he agrees, pressing his lips to my forehead lightly. “I just can’t remember why they whipped me that day.”

That day. Because there’s so many days where he was whipped to choose from. Of course.

My eyes land on another mark, this one dark purple and almost circular, high up on his torso, almost on his shoulder. It’s not a bruise, although at first glance it could be mistaken for one. No, it’s definitely a scar. From what, I can’t tell.

I trace it with my thumb, rubbing it back and forth. It’s raised and rough to the touch, a little jagged even, like it never properly healed.

His hand comes up to touch my arm, almost out of reflex, halting my ministrations. “That’s from the early days,” he explains, with almost a touch of humor in his voice. “They were more creative then… and they had a lot of matches on hand.”

It takes me a beat to figure out what he means by matches. “Fire? Fire matches, Peeta?”

“Yeah.” He nods sheepishly. “Snow had a big supply evidently.”

“I will burn him alive,” I say through gritted teeth before I can think better of it.

“Calm down, firecracker,” Peeta laughs but I’m fuming. I’m fuming mad and ready to fight at a moments notice. I probably could even make a half-decent propo right now, the amount of venom coursing through my veins.

I encourage my own anger, feed it, in fact. Because I want to be angry. I want to feel this rage.

Because if I don’t, I’ll start crying. And that’ll only serve to make Peeta feel even worse. Which I can’t let happen.

I’ve already done that too many times.

I don’t tell him any of what I’m thinking. Nothing good could come from that. Instead I search for a way to mask my anger, protect him from seeing it.

I stretch up and press a kiss against the corner of Peeta’s mouth, traveling to his chin, down the side of his neck and over his collarbone.

He responds by letting out a deep sigh, clearly enjoying the attention.

I journey further down his body until my lips land on his chest, exactly where his scar is.

“What are you doing?” He asks breathlessly, peering down at me now. “You don’t have to-“

“Let me,” I whisper, tracing it again with my finger. He shudders a little at the contact. “Let me make it better.”

I hear him swallow hard. “Okay.” He nods a little, quietly inhaling and exhaling.

I lean in slowly and press my lips to the mark, the whip scar, soft and tender.

I can feel him relax beneath me, deflating almost. I don’t sense any sign of discomfort, so I take that as my cue to continue on, kissing the same spot again and again, moving up and down the length of his wound, creating a circuit and following it repeatedly, waiting until he tells me to stop.

“Katniss,” he murmurs, sounding almost pained, like my name hurts.

“Yeah?“

“Thank you.” His voice is almost inaudible, almost a praise or a plea. Tears leak out the corners of his tired eyes.

I have to fight to keep my lip from trembling, to stop myself from crying too. Instead I crawl up his body, keeping my legs wrapped around his waist and fold my arms loosely around his neck.

“Let me kiss them all,” I say into his skin. My mouth travels across the top of his shoulder, my eyes closed, moving by the touch of my lips alone, not stopping until I land on his burn.

I press kiss after kiss into the bumpy, rough scar, until I feel Peeta’s breathing even out against me. I feel his heart beating against me and his chest rise and fall with mine, and an ember of hope that my method may be working grows stronger.

“Roll over for me,” I urge, keeping my voice as gentle as my touch.

“You don’t have to do them all,” he says but I can tell he’s enjoying this immensely. I can tell this helping him more than any treatment the doctors have recommended.

“I want to, Peeta,” I insist, no question in my tone.

Slowly and lethargically, he complies, rolling over so his back is facing me. I keep my hold on him, both my arms and legs wrapped around him like a baby animal clings to their mother.

He has a plethora of scars and wounds on his back. More than I’ve been able to stomach yet. Not once since his rescue have I been able to truly face the sight before me now.

I begin at the top, resting the palms of my hands on his shoulder blades, pressing my mouth to the center of his spine, to the back of his neck, the back of his ribs, anywhere with a painful mark or dark bruise.

I keep going, never tiring, as if I can kiss him better. As if my kiss can take away everything that’s happened, everything that I unintentionally caused and everything I ache to go back and stop. I kiss him like I can make him whole again. Like I can heal his fractured heart.

Eventually he relaxes underneath me, his breathing evens out again and he goes slack.

Even then, I keep kissing him. Even in his sleep, I refuse to stop trying to heal his hurt.

“I love you, Peeta,” I whisper against his arm, knowing full well that he cannot hear me anymore. “I love you and I’m so sorry that I couldn’t save you from this. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

My lips are still on his back when the doctors order me out of the room.

-

[dragon-creates]

She Was Like A Sunflower

Read on AO3

1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12

Yeah, I just finished this so there may be some spelling mistakes. I just didn't want to delay the second chapter any further so I'll fix them when I wake up. Also, WHO PUT DOOMED YURI IN MY FUNNYBUNNY FIC?!?! Also, come support me and Pandora's new au on our shared tumblr called 'The Amazing Digital Redacted AU'. If you love indie horror like Bendy and the Ink machine, Poppy Playtime, FNAF then you'll love this AU. Here's the link Don't forget to check out twitter as well All that said, enjoy chapter 2! (and dont kill me pls)

2. Marjorie

What died didn't stay dead

You're alive, so alive

And if I didn't know better

I'd think you were singing to me now – Marjorie by Taylor Swift

.

.

.

Cloudy skies, not a hint of light coming through. It was going to be that type of day today, and that type of mood by the way Winter observed Riley’s behaviour this morning. The redhead was at the table, drinking coffee and bouncing Percy on her knee. Winter could tell whenever a smile was pretend, and the way her wife smiled right now was no exception.

Could she blame her? Winter was a wreck when Jack went missing and knowing how close Penny and Riley were, it made sense for her wife to behave the way she did. But the thing is, Riley didn’t, or scream, or get angry. The passionate, loud, amazing women she married wasn’t the one holding their son at the table. There was only a shell. And after that visit she had with David, Riley’s shell had only gotten tougher.

If Riley said anything that related to Penny, it would be to trying to find her. She never spoke about how it made her feel, never saw a tear, or the grieved anger that one would expect. Riley was always so loving towards anything about her sister, it unnerved Winter seeing her wife like this.

“Look at him,” Riley cooed at the little baby on her lap. “We have the cutest kid in the world, look at him.”

Percy giggled as his mother held him up under the arms, thrashing his legs about as he peered at his mama over the kitchen island. “He is the cutest baby in the world,” Winter agreed. “Um, I know Captain Rae is okay with you working on this case. But are you sure-”

“We should get him a new mobile,” Riley cut her off, focusing her attention on Percy. “I think the other one isn’t working to well, he never pays attention to it.”

Winter pursed her lips, tapping her fingers on the kitchen counter. She wanted to at least say something about Penny before Riley had to leave to drop Percy off at Laura’s. “Listen, Riley,” she spoke, making her wife turn to her. “You have been nothing but patient when I found out Jack went missing, I know this type of this is so fucking far from easy. Whatever you’re feeling, I’ve felt it too. You…you know that right?”

“I know,” Riley smiled warmly. “You know, you can say if you’re missing Jack again. You don’t have to be light about it to make me feel better, okay Hun?”

“No, no, that’s not what I’m trying to say,” Winter pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’ve heard you in the night, waking up crying. I understand what you’re feeling, you can talk about Penny-”

“-Okay Percy,” Riley turned back to her son. “Are you ready to see Grandma?” She immediately stood up, holding him by her hip as she grabbed her own bag, Percy’s baby bag and car keys from the table.

It was as if a switch was flipped, a wall was put up and the shell was hardening. “Riley, wait!” Winter went round the kitchen island as she chased her wife to the door, “Riley.”

Riley froze as she opened the door, facing the outside, her face hidden. Winter heard her take a sharp intake of breath before facing her with the same faux smile that she had been wearing ever since she came back from David’s “Yeah?”

“I…It’s just,” Winter tried to find the words, to say something that didn’t involve her life leaving without at least finishing a conversation. But she knew that no matter how hard she tried, Riley would find an opening in order not to face it, and it would only make Winter’s efforts even harder. The dark-haired woman sighed, “I’ll see you at work later. I…love you.”

A glimpse of a real smile appeared on Riley’s face, “I love you too carrot cake.” The redhead pressed a kiss to her wife’s cheek, “I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah,” Winter nodded solemnly, “See you soon.”

With that, Riley turned her focus back on Percy and shut the door behind her. Winter let her soldiers sag, a painful ache forming in her heart. She knew Riley was hurting, she saw it flicker in her eyes every time a dead end came up for Penny’s case, she heard it when Riley awoke crying from nightmares – yet Winter pretended she was asleep in order for Riley to not feel ashamed – and she felt every single anger and grief that she knew Riley was having because she had felt it when Jack went missing.

So why wouldn’t Riley talk to her?!

Winter took a deep breath, trying to cancel out the negative energy. Everyone copes differently with these types of things. Besides, she and Riley were as strong as cement, they could work through this despite how bleak everything seemed.

Riley would come to her eventually…maybe…hopefully.

So why did Winter feel so lonely?

.

.

.

“Okay, let me understand this as best as I can,” Ragatha started. Pomni and Jax had set up some bean bags for everyone while they sat on the bed, just finishing up their rundown of everything that happened in the last day. “You two have your memories back?”

“Yup,” Jax nodded.

“And you two were engaged before you got sucked in here?” Zooble questioned.

“That would be correct,” Pomni agreed.

“And now you guys might know a way to escape this place?” Gangle asked.

“That is a plausibility,” Jax replied.

Ragatha pressed her hands together and held them near her face, taking a long, deep, exhausted breath, “This is a lot to take in.”

Pomni bit her lip nervously, “I know this is the last thing you were all expecting, but you’re all handling this well all things considered.”

“I’m just confused on how you managed to fall in love with Jax of all people,” Zooble muttered, glaring at the rabbit.

Jax rolled his eyes, “Thanks Zooble.”

Pomni frowned, taking his hand into hers and squeezing it tight, “Because he loved me despite everything, saw me at my worst yet stayed because he knew I could thrive into my best. And right now, he helped me find a possible way to get everyone out of here. Do I excuse what he’s done to all of you? No. And I’m still not happy with how he treated me and Ragatha on my first day. So don’t think I’m taking sides, I’m simply observing.”

Zooble sighed, almost feeling guilty…almost. But they trusted Pomni’s word, not Jax’s (they didn’t know if they ever would) but definitely Pomni’s. “Fine” she muttered.

Kinger looked more lost than he usually did. The usual quiet brainstorm he would have in the middle of the room increased like wildfire. “Memories…returning,” he mumbled. “This…I don’t…I haven’t seen anything like it.”

Jax turned to the chess piece. He didn’t like this reaction, not one bit. It brought up too many painful flashbacks of someone similar to Kinger going through the same thing a long time ago, “Kinger, buddy, stay with us.”

It was like going in one ear and out the either for the royal character, still shaking like a leaf, “How…what is…something is…a trip?”

Trip? Jax didn’t want to see how far this would go, how far Kinger would go unless he’d – no, he wasn’t going to finish that thought and he wouldn’t let this continue. “Kinger!” Jax clapped his hands, the sound ringing through the room and snapping the chess piece out of his mumblings.

Kinger blinked. Once, twice, “Oh Jax.” And once again, he was back to himself, “Apologies, I must have been lost in a dream. But it’s so nice to know you and Pomni were together, young love finds a way.”

Despite the chess piece giving them all a scare, that statement alone made the rabbit and jester blush. Would it be rude if he kicked everyone out and smother his fiancé with attention? Yes, yes it would. And while it was tempting, Jax couldn’t afford to indulge. Not when the giant elephant in the room was still being addressed.

“It is really sweet,” Gangle whispered. It sounded like a genuine compliment from the masked woman – and it was don’t get her wrong – but there was something else lacing her tone. Something else that suggested the bodied ribbons couldn’t be as happy as she wanted to be. But she didn’t say, it wasn’t her place. No one could even tell from that slight lilt in her voice that she felt this way.

But Zooble noticed.

“Okay, still a little confused but I think I’m getting there,” Ragatha finally spoke up again. “Listen, Pomni. You know I trust you whole heartedly, but we’ve been here for years and no one has seen an exit until now, are you sure that what you’ve seen is accurate?”

Pomni’s face fell. Despite the door in front of Ragatha, despite everything she told her, why did the ragdoll still doubt her? “But we told you. The exit door is right there,” Pomni pointed to the door on the wall, desperation filling her eyes. “I know it seems impossible but I really think we can get out of here!”

Ragatha gasped, covering her mouth with guilt at what she said, “Sorry, sorry Pomni I phrased that wrong. It’s just…we’ve all tried looking for a way out and it always backfired, even when we think we’ve gotten so close. I don’t want the same thing to happen to you.”

Pomni opened her mouth, about to speak when-

“Ragatha,” Jax spoke. Everyone’s eyes widened, he never said Ragatha’s actual name, and so seriously either. “We saw her mother. She saw us send out a message to her. She knows we’re alive.” He paused, watching the ragdoll process everything with shock written all over her face. “Someone knows we’re here now. I know you’re scared, but this is a real chance of finally leaving.”

Ragatha’s mouth opened and closed, cutting off words before they even arrived at her lips. She thought she knew everything about the circus, had accepted that no matter how much they tried they could never escape. It was a horrible thing to accept, but she had to if she wanted to stay sane and not end up like…she could still feel herself almost crumbling away when Kaufmo’s abstracted form attacked her. No, no! She can’t lose herself now. She should be grateful that Pomni and Jax managed to find a way to be free, so why did it feel so hard to grasp onto that hope? “Okay,” she sighed. “I trust you, Pomni. But what about Caine, do you think you’ll tell him-”

“NO!” Pomni cut her off, fear swimming in her red and blue eyes. Even everyone seemed shocked by her sudden volume. Jax held her close, hugging her trembling form as the jester took a few breaths to calm herself down. “No, I-I don’t think that’s a good idea. He already had a weird way of trying to make things ‘fun’ here, I don’t know how he’ll feel when we say we’ve found a legitimate exit. What if he tries to take that away?”

The rest of the group nodded slowly. Even before Pomni arrived, Caine had always shut down the possibility of an exit being possible. And every time it was shown to him, he would twist it and prove to them that it was just another part of the circus. It was like he feared an exit even existing.

“It’s just your imagination!” he always said, leaving them to doubt if what they saw was actually there. And if you lost yourself in those thoughts, then it was a one-way trip into the cellar. And nobody wanted that.

“Well in that case…” Ragatha trailed off, closing her eyes for a moment. When they opened, they were fierce and determined. “Keep doing what you’re doing. This actually seems like a true way to finally get out of here. But do not let Caine find out. Keep pretending that everything is the same, you two are just friends, you don’t remember your past and that there is no way an exit is even here.”

“Got it,” Pomni and Jax said in unison.

“Which means that you two should stop acting like a couple whenever you’re in public,” Ragatha stated.

“Oh we know,” Pomni smiled innocently.

“Yeah, it’s not as hard as it seems,” Jax replied cooly.

Ragatha raised a coy brow at the two of them, “Pomni, darling, you’re sitting on Jax’s lap.”

Oh, right, the two of them forgot about that. They were both quick to slip back in to how they used to be before the circus, which meant a lot of trusting physical contact that the two were proud to have developed over the years. But then again, Ragatha was right. Something like that would be extremely obvious to Caine that something was up.

Pomni slid of the rabbit’s lap, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly while Jax coughed nervously behind his fist. “Right, sorry,” Pomni laughed sheepishly, while Jax pouted at the lack of contact.

Ragatha pinched the bridge of her nose again, this is gonna be a disaster.

.

.

.

Riley paced back and forth in her mother’s living room, her phone held to her ear as she chewed on her fingernail. “Oh god I fucked up, I really fucked up,” she mumbled as the dial buzzed in her ear.

“Riley, sweetie, it’s gonna be okay,” Amber put her hands on her daughter’s shoulders, ceasing her pacing. “If this Samual boy is as nice as you say he is I’m sure he’ll listen to you.”

“I was really awful the last time I saw him, Mom,” Riley winced as she remembered his cries, ignoring him as the elevator doors shut behind her. “And the worst part was, I genuinely believed he was telling the truth. You always told me to trust my gut and I did! With him! But then Jason Wood said stuff that sounded plausible, and I feel so fucking stupid because even my head was screaming at me not to believe him. I didn’t know whether to trust the facts because both of them were laid out to me and I-”

“Hey, hey,” Amber’s voice was soft yet firm.  “This isn’t like anything you’ve ever worked on before. We are dealing with something that we didn’t even know existed, and its personal since both Jack and Penny are involved in this. In a normal case, maybe someone like Jason is right about this. But this isn’t a normal case, and we have proof that this Jason guy isn’t to be trusted.”

Riley nodded, “I have to let him know how sorry I am. This kid, he’s been through so much, all I did was make his situation worse. If Jason really treated him like that them…oh god…oh god Mom we really need to help him!”

Amber nodded feverishly. When Riley told her what Samual went through, with his parents going missing and how Jason was like to him whenever they were brought up, all the mother saw was nothing but red. The only time Amber looked like she was ready to kill was with David after the car crash all those years ago, and again when he showed up at both of her daughters’ homes unannounced.

Riley was about to speak when-

“Hello?” Samual’s voice answered through the phone.

“Ah, Samual!” Riley gasped, keeping the phone tight to her ear. “Samual you were right about everything! We couldn’t trust Jason!”

“M-miss Riley?!” His tone was small and frightened, almost trading on eggshells at the sound of her. “What are you talking about?”

Riley only wanted that type of fear from the voices of those who wronged her, not from innocent kids trying to help. She wanted to slap herself in the face for making that mistake, “Samual, you know the emails you showed me? Of the mystery person? The same thing happened to my Mom, my sister, I think she’s trying to get into contact with us.”

There was a small pause on the other line, before the boy spoke meekly, “You…you believe me?”

“Yeah, yeah kid I do,” Riley was nothing short of breathless. The last twenty-four hours have been nothing but a blur. But the way she spoke to him, at the height of her anger. Even if this situation wasn’t real, she shouldn’t have spoke to a hurting kid like that. “Samual, I owe you an apology.”

“Oh no, you don’t need to-”

“Samual, please,” she gently cut him off. “The way I spoke to you was nothing short of cold and rude. I was in a bad place and me and my family have gone through so much pain, but that’s no excuse and I should never have taken my anger out on you. I’m so sorry Samual.”

There was a pause, Riley waited with bated breath. Mere seconds felt agonisingly long until Samual finally answered, “I forgive you.”

Riley felt her lungs fill with air, finally letting herself breathe, “Really?”

“Yeah, I get it. Jason has a history of getting people to believe his stories,” Samual said. “I don’t blame you. And now I’m guessing we have more proof that he’s lying?”

“That’s right,” Riley confirmed, “Are you free to come check it out?”

“I’ll be there as quick as I can,” Samual’s excited and curious tone returned. “I can’t wait to get started on our secret FBI work!”

The line cut off before Riley could say another word. She grinned, shaking her head.

He forgave her.

“I’m guessing it went well?” Amber asked, her own smile gracing her lips.

Riley nodded, relief washing over her again and again, “We might actually be getting somewhere.”

Amber faltered a little. For a while, she was starting to lose hope that she would ever truly hear those words. But somehow, mercy was gifted to her and her family. “We’re gonna find her,” she stated firmly to her eldest daughter “We’re gonna get Penny back.”

“We will Mom,” Riley agreed, “We will.”

.

.

.

Yes the option to not go on Caine’s adventure was always available, but it didn’t mean that the ringmaster was too happy whenever someone decided to stay behind. Right now, Zooble was idly walking down one of the hallways on the tent, kicking their foot against the carpet a few times. Ironically enough, Zooble wasn’t the first and only one who volunteered to stay behind for the day. Nope, it was Gangle who asked first.

Normally the ribboned lady wouldn’t mind tagging along on an adventure with everyone else, but today she turned away at the offer trudging back into the circus. Zooble had instantly recognised that it wasn’t Gangle’s usual behaviour and decided to stay back too. He would deal with Caine’s shenanigans once the pair of dentures came back with the rest of the crew.

Zooble paced up and down the hallway, the day was nearly up but she hadn’t actually worked up the courage to see if Gangle was okay. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, but Gangle was one of the sweetest and sensitive people here. Zooble cherished the fact that someone like her wanted to be friends with someone like him, to the point that they even got a bit nervous when talking with her one on one. But right now, there was something obviously wrong with Gangle and Zooble made the choice to stay behind to make sure that she didn’t feel less alone. Yet here she was, keeping a distance from the masked lady because he was nothing but afraid.

But then they stopped. When he was in the gloink hole, Gangle was the only one to realise he was missing, even being brave enough to try and bring her back. It would be selfish of Zooble to not at least try to comfort the girl and see if she was okay. Swallowing both his fears and pride, Zooble marched themselves down the hall to find Gangle.

He found her sitting on the stage, her silk legs drawn up to her chest as she sighed to herself, her comedy mask was once again broken and she had to rely on her secondary, sombre one instead. Under Zooble’s stoic expression, she was absolutely terrified. They didn’t know why, Gangle was their friend. Why did they feel afraid to start a conversation alone with a friend. Their sweet…kind…pretty friend. Ah! Pull yourself together! Gangle needs you!

Zooble took a deep breath, he could do this. And so, he walked up to the stage, slipping into their usual and calm posture, “Hey Gangle. No adventure today?”

She jumped a bit at the sound of her name, relaxing when they saw who it was, “No, not today. I wasn’t in the mood.”

“Oh,” Zooble nodded awkwardly. They weren’t really good at the emotional fluffy stuff, every time they tried she somehow always reached a dead end. But he didn’t want Gangle feeling this lonely, he had to at least try and help her out, “Any reason why?”

Gangle rubbed her arm, giving Zooble a sad smile, “It’s okay Zooble. If you have somewhere to be then you can go, you don’t need to stay and talk to me if you don’t want to.”

“No I do!” Zooble said a bit too quickly, making Gangle squeak. “Gah, sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to sound like that. It’s…ugh how does Ragatha do this so easily?” They closed their eyes for a moment, breathing deeply before opening them again. “I’m here because I want to be. And I’m always willing to lend an ear if you need to talk. Gangle, if there’s anything you wanna say or do, I’m here.”

The ribboned woman seemed to be taken aback by that, not fully expecting that level of support from the usual reclusive assortment of parts. But she wasn’t complaining, she liked seeing this side of Zooble. “Well, it’s just…” she started, fiddling with the ends of her ribbons for a moment. “I’m happy that Pomni and Jax have their memories back, really I am. And it really is sweet that they used to be together, but…”

“But?” Zooble asked.

“…Jax has done nothing but torment us, prank us and make our lives miserable,” Gangle spoke. “Every day, he’s done nothing but go out of his way to annoy us just because he likes seeing funny things happen to people. And now he has his memories back and we’re suddenly happy for him?! After all he put us through. As if it erases everything he did to us! With Pomni, I’m glad that she remembers who she was. She was so scared when she got here and Caine has done nothing to help her, so it’s good finally seeing her smile. But with Jax? It might be wrong for me to say but it doesn’t seem fair! We’ve been trying everything to remember who we were, all the while he laughed at us for doing so! Like he hadn’t tried doing so in the first place as well yet he still made fun of us! And now he gets them back just like that! I wanna remember! I tried so hard to! Yet he berated me for trying and he-”

She covered her mouth, ashamed. She said too much. “Oh gosh, that’s horrible what I just said!” her eyes darted round the area. “I need to find my comedy mask, that why I’ll stop talking like this and be happy! Where is it? I swore I had it here somewhere, it’s not broken. Oh god, what if it is?! No, no, no! I need my comedy mask! I need it! I wanna stop feeling like this!”

“Gangle! You’re okay!” Zooble quickly caught Gangle’s flailing hands in theirs, holding them firmly yet gently. “You’re not a horrible person for saying that and I get what you’re trying to say. I know you don’t mean anything bad by it and I understand your frustration. Am I glad that bozo has his memories back, sure. But it doesn’t mean that I forgave and forgot all that he put us through, and you don’t need to either. If someone as weird as Jax can get his memories back, then someone as amazing as you can get yours back too.”

Gangle lips parted for a moment, speechless at the honesty in Zooble’s tone. “Y-you think I’m amazing?” she whispered.

Zooble’s voice got caught in her throat, her entire face flustering up as she removed his hands from Gangle’s. “Well, yeah,” they replied nonchalantly. “You don’t overwhelm me like Caine or annoy me like Jax. Plus I like your acts you put on.”

Gangle practically beamed at that, “You like my acts?”

“Hehe, of course,” Zooble’s eyes gleamed. “You got a real talent for that.”

The masked lady giggled, “You know, for someone who doesn’t think they’re good at soft stuff, I think you did a pretty great job with talking to me.”

“Oh,” Zooble blushed, clearing their throat before mumbling, “Thank you. And your comedy mask, you wanna leave it or…”

“No I can’t leave it,” Gangle quickly told her. “Everything just gets too much in here, I need my mask to make it easier, to make me happier. That way I won’t bring everyone down and I’ll be as happy as I need to be.”

Zooble furrowed his brows at Gangle’s statement, “But you don’t bring-”

“Oh, I think I know where it is!” Gangle grinned. “I’ll be back soon! Thank you Zooble!” She then tore off down the hall, all the way back to the bedroom quarters.

“Wait but…” Zooble reached out an arm to her, but Gangle was already gone. “But you don’t need your mask to be happy.”

They sighed. They had seen Gangle smile without the mask, a real genuine smile that wasn’t forced by some code from the character model forced onto her. If anything, Zooble swore that the mask only made things worse for Gangle, making her rely on it more and more. Zooble wished to see that real smile again.

Their train of thought was interrupted by the sound of a group of voices, tired and groaning. She turned, looks like the adventure was over for today. “Jeez, what happened to you guys?” they asked.

“Football stadium adventure,” Ragatha mumbled, rubbing her lower back. “Turns out when you put four inexperienced players against a group of NPC’s coded with tons of knowledge about it, you tend to face a lot of back pain.”

Zooble hissed through his teeth, “Yikes.”

“But it’s all a part of the adventure!” Caine boomed, making them all jump. “After all! How boring would it be if you didn’t learn at all!”

“You couldn’t at least give us a tutorial?” Jax grumbled. “Was that really too hard for you to do dentures?” He wasn’t really angry for himself. Well, he was. But Pomni had a really hard time on her feet during the whole game, easily being outnumbered and beaten by the NPC’s.

At one point, one of them kicked her in the leg instead of the ball, sending her to the ground. For a moment, Jax had forgotten all about the pretending, tackling the NPC to the ground before checking on his secret fiancé. Thankfully, Caine saw it as Jax thinking they were playing soccer (despite him literally kicking the ball for hours on end) and being a good teammate. Jax had never been more thankful for the AI’s naivety, especially when it gave him a chance to take Pomni to a nursing room and dressing her wound (he wouldn’t forget about how her cheeks turned red when he kissed the side of her bandaged knee).

“Anyhow!” Caine fiddled with his cane before tossing it away, a cartoonish sound effect resonating from where it landed. “I suggest you all rest up! We’ve gotten even more adventures planned for tomorrow and you’ll all need a good feast and rest before that!”

“Oh great, its not as if we heard that line before,” Jax muttered. Pomni crossed her arms over her chest, raising a brow at the rabbit. Jax only grinned, rolling his eyes at the pair of dentures before circling his finger at the temple of his head, clearing stating his opinion of the ringmaster. Pomni scoffed, failing to hide a smile at her fiancé. Jax’s face softened, he’ll never get tired of making her smile.

 “I’ll leave everyone to themselves before dinner!” Caine boomed with his usual, yet unsettling, toothy grin. “Take care my superstars!”

Like the same song and dance he had done many times before, the pair of dentures vanished in a puff of smoke. Jax waited a few seconds, making sure that the ringmaster was gone before rushing over to Pomni. “How’s your knee? Does it still hurt?” he asked, brushing his hand over the bandage.

“Yeah Hun I’m okay,” Pomni reassured him, petting behind his ears. “I’m sure it’s just a bruise now with the way things work here.”

His brows furrowed worriedly, “You sure? No more aches?”

“No more aches,” Pomni repeated.

“Good, good,” Jax let his thumb brush over the bandaged skin one more time before standing up. “So, you ready to get back to business.”

Pomni took in a sharp breath, both excitement yet a hint of nerves washing through her, “Yeah, let’s go see my Mom.”

Jax nodded, the two of them going down the hall again, unable to feel the gaze of everyone else’s eyes on them.

“Still having doubts Rags?” Zooble turned to the ragdoll.

“A little bit,” Ragatha nodded, a bit of shame shown on her face. “It’s not that I don’t trust them. I guess I’m just…scared. We never had anything like this. It could go either really well or…” She didn’t want to finish that sentence. She didn’t want to finish that thought! Never before had they tittered on a tight rope so close to collapsing. If this went wrong, then all of them could suffer a fate worse than abstraction. No, no she wasn’t going to think about that. It she was brought down, then so would everyone else. And she wasn’t going to allow herself to act so selfishly, “Never mind, how about I go see if Bubble would like help making dessert?”

Zooble frowned at Ragatha’s shift in mood, “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” Ragatha questioned innocently.

“You always do that, act like you’re not sad when you are,” Zooble told her. “You’re allowed to not have good days, you know that right?”

“Oh Zooble, you worry too much,” Ragatha patted his arm. “I’m absolutely fine, no bad thoughts in my head whatsoever. Now, I think a pie would do well for dessert for tonight, don’t you think?”

With that, the ragdoll turned on her heel and headed to the kitchen. That was two people in a row that pretended to be happy to Zooble. He hated when that happened, when they forced down any type of negativity in the fear of being abstracted. It wasn’t fair that this threat kept hovering over everyone’s head, and Zooble hated it that Caine didn’t do anything to sooth their worries, instead leaving them to wallow with shallow adventures that they all hated. It was another reason why Zooble felt bitter with Jax, he kept pushing them on the brink every single time while knowing how much they all feared the fate of the cellar, yet he never stopped. Zooble felt frustrated tears at the corners of her eyes, allowing them to fall. The others might be too scared to cry, but they didn’t want to (part of them was glad that Pomni felt the same way as well).

He felt a hand cover her shoulder, rubbing it carefully like a parent would do with their child. Zooble turned his hand, it was Kinger. His eyes didn’t meet theirs, still lost in his own worlds of chaos and insects. Yet his hands moved on their own, as though another part of his mind wanted to reach out and sooth them. Zooble sniffed, if they could smile then he would be smiling at Kinger right there and now. As crazy as it sounded in her head, Kinger somehow seemed to be the sanest of them all.

.

.

.

Knock, knock

Riley rushed to the door, opening it wide as it revealed the startled face of one Samual Abel. “Samual,” she gasped. “Thank you so much for coming! I’m so, so sorry!”

“Miss Riley, it’s okay,” he smiled softly. “I already told you I forgive you.”

“I know, I know,” Riley brushed back some of her red hair. “But you didn’t need to. You could have just accepted my apology and moved on, but you forgave me. Why? The way I spoke to you was awful.”   

Samual shrugged, “When I was a kid, my Dad always taught me that forgiveness is a heavy thing. Many people will feign an apology just so they can unburden themselves with forgiveness without actually being sorry. I don’t forgive a lot of people, I don’t think I can forgive some of the people at C&A for lying to me and letting Jason control me, I know that if they said sorry it wouldn’t erase all that happened over the years. But you, you didn’t know. You were tricked and I know that you meant how sorry you were. That’s the difference that my Dad taught me about, I’ll know the right people to forgive and not to bring myself down with the people I don’t choose to give that right to.”

This kid was just too kind, speaking with a wisdom many people who lived longer on this earth lacked, “Your father sounds like a good man.” Not many people have that luck.  

“Both he and my mother were great people,” Samual’s eyes were warm, lost in a memory of love and comfort from so many years ago. He blinked them away, his face simple yet determined. “Anyways, you got something to show me?”

Riley nodded, slipping back into business, “Yeah, let me introduce you to my Mom. She’s the one who got the messages.”

She led Samual into the house, shutting the door behind him. Amber came into the room, her hands clasped together and a cardigan wrapped around her shoulders. “Oh, hello,” she blinked in surprise at the sight of the boy. She turned to Riley, “Is this Samual?”

“Yeah, this is him,” Riley confirmed.

“Hi, it’s so nice to meet you,” Amber walked over, wrapping her arms around him, his eyes widening in surprise. “Riley told me what happened, I’m so sorry all this happened to you.”

He stood frozen for a moment, as though he wasn’t used to someone wanting to hug him back. But his arms wrapped tight around Amber like Riley expected, burying his face into her shoulder. He was shaking a bit, she couldn’t hear any sobs but Riley was certain that the kid hadn’t received this level in security in a while. Hopefully with how things were going so far, that would change soon enough. Soon, Samual pulled away, trying to still his shaking hands. “Right, so,” he took a step back, his hands shoved into his pockets. “Ready to get to work?”

Amber nodded, grinning, “This way.” She guided him to the sofa, letting him sit down as the computer switched on next to him. “It was so bizarre. I’m not sure what your experience was like, all I know from Riley was that you only received messages.”

Samual lifted a brow, “I guess yours had more to it.”

“Yes,” Amber confirmed. “Before I got the messages, all my lights were flickering, like something or…someone was controlling it. That’s when I got these.” Once the computer was up and functioning, Amber clicked onto the documents that held the words from her daughter.

Samual shifted closer, “Yeah, this is certainly…different. I only got emails, but it looks like someone wrote this if it’s on a document.”

“That’s the thing,” Amber turned to him. “I don’t know how but Penny was in this room. I couldn’t see or feel how but she was there, controlling the lights and writing to me.”

Samual’s eyes widened, no disbelief was seen but rather surprise at this new revelation, “Your daughter is trying to communicate with you. She even managed to be here with you somehow.”

“Yes, yes!” Amber exclaimed, grinning. “She was right here in this room.”

“But you said not physically?” Riley asked, her tone curious rather than accusatory.  “She managed to speak to you but her body wasn’t here?”

“Unfortunately,” Amber’s face fell slightly.

“So wherever she is, she’s still trapped,” Riley sighed.

Samual got up, facing the two women, “But it doesn’t seem impossible to find her. If she managed to get here the first time than its possible that she could come back.”

Riley bit her lip, “But how would we know?”

“Riley’s right,” Amber agreed. “I might have spoken to her then but I don’t know how to get in contact with her again-”

The lamp flickered, the trio’s attention focused in on it. “I’m guessing that wasn’t my eyes playing tricks on me?” Riley observed, her toes curling at the thought of who she hoped it was.

“Nope,” Amber’s grin returned, whipping back round to the computer. “Penny, is that you baby?”

Hey Mom

I’m back

Riley’s hands covered her mouth, her knees dropping to the ground, “Penny? Is that really you?”

Unbeknownst to Riley, Pomni had done the same thing. Matching her sister as she tried to stifle a sob, “Hey Jax, do you mind?”

The rabbit chuckled behind her, watching the exchange go down. There were no memory-like pathways this time, just a simple walk through the door and they arrived right back in the living room, “Yeah babe, I got it.”

She’s here, she just got a little overwhelmed seeing you all again

Hi Mrs Reed

It’s good to see you again

Amber brows furrowed in confusion for a moment before realisation struck. There was only one other person that she knew who disappeared the way her youngest daughter did, “Jack?”

Yup, that’s me

Hope you’re not too disappointed

The older woman let out a breathless laugh, about to reply with how happy she was to see him…until she was interrupted by another voice, “YOU SON OF A BITCH!”

Jax’s ears pressed flat against his head as Riley stood from the ground, fury written all over her face. Pomni, Amber and Samual had to take a few steps away from the raging woman.

“YOU TELL MY SISTER THAT YOU DON’T WANT TO MARRY HER AND TRY TO MOVE AWAY ON THE DAY OF YOUR WEDDING! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!” Riley screamed loudly. “YOU’RE SO LUCKY I CAN’T SEE YOU OTHERWISE I WOULD RIP OFF BOTH YOUR ARMS AND LEGS AND FEED THEM TO WOLVES WHILE WATCHING YOU BLEED OUT!”

Jax gulped, he should have known this was coming. After all he heard from Winter how Riley slammed someone’s head against a table just because they looked at Penny funny, if he wasn’t in the circus he would be on a missing poster by now. He took a deep breath, typing away on the keyboard.

You’re allowed to be angry

Furious

What I did was unforgivable and I understand if you won’t forgive me

But please understand then when I say sorry, I mean it

I’m so sorry Riley

For hurting your sister the way I did

For everything

Riley crossed her arms as she scowled, letting herself think long and hard about it, emphasise on long (she wanted to make him suffer at least a little bit). Jack was an asshole for what he did, but she knew what he went through as a kid and how hard he tried to make things right both for himself and for everyone else. She looked to Samual, the boy giving her a smile and a thumbs up before she turned back with a sigh, “Thank you for your apology.”

Jax’s stomach did a flip. There was a thank you, but no forgiveness. It was expected, a bit disappointing, but also a good start.

You’re welcome

Riley’s face turned soft again, shifting her feet on the rug below her, “Penny, are you…can you speak to me?”

Pomni clenched her hands, grinning and trembling with excitement as she rushed over to the computer.

Hey Riles

Please don’t kill Jack when we get back

Riley sniffed, wiping a stray tear from her cheek, “I’ll try not to, but I’ll do it for you Pen. Oh my god I missed you so much.”

Pomni bit back her sob, if she missed her mother so much already, then the weight of missing Riley hit like a bag of bricks.

I missed you too

You’re making me cry Riles

“I can’t help it,” Riley laughed. “You’ve been gone for three months.”

I know

You have no idea how much I wanna hug you all – Penny (did that so you can tell who you’re talking to)

Jax hummed, amused by her quick choice, “Smart.”

She gave the rabbit a quick grin before she turned her gaze to the boy in the living room, tilting her head curiously.

Who’s that guy?

Jax followed her gaze, letting out a small gasp of realisation at who it was, “Samual Abel?!”

“Wait, you mean-?” she realised now who he was talking about.

“Penny, Jack,” Riley walked over to the boy. “This is Samual Abel, son of Kaleb and Quinn Abel. He’s gonna be helping us get you home.”

“Uh, yeah,” Samual replied nervously. “Hi again Mister Jack, nice to meet you Miss Penny. Um, I’m really sorry I couldn’t do more for you when Jason came up to you that day Jack.”

Jax frowned as his fingers reach for the keyboard again.

It was nobody’s fault but my own kid

I was the one who took up Jason’s offer

Don’t beat yourself up about it – Jack

“Copycat,” Pomni stuck her tongue out at him.

Jax chuckled, “Couldn’t help it little lady,”

“But I should have done something!” Samual stood so fast it nearly gave him whiplash. “Jason always does this! He knows it’s dangerous when people touch that stupid game! The moment he said where he was sending you I knew what job he was talking about! I could have stopped all this!”

Riley faced the boy, confused, “Game? What game?”

“That fucking game!” he cursed. “It’s been the root of all of our problems yet he never got rid of it! It started small with people disappearing in the company with headsets left behind, but then it started spreading somehow to the public! And now we lost the file! It keeps jumping from place to place and we can never catch it! All because Jason was too stubborn to get rid of it!”

“Sam, Sam, hey,” Riley clicked her fingers in front of his face, his attention solely focused on her. “What game are you talking about.”

Samual’s buried his face into his hands, a stressed groan leaving his mouth, “It was supposed to be a VR remake of the first game my dad made, but Jason kept making too many shaky choices with it. Then my parents disappeared. I hate that game… ‘The Amazing Digital Circus’.”

Pomni gasped, “That was the game I saw when I tried to find you!” She turned to Jax, “We’re stuck inside the game!”

“I-I remember!” Jax clenched his hands. “When I disappeared! That was the file I saw!”

It fell on deaf ears. “The reason why Jason wanted to send Jack away was because that was where the last person went missing, the last time we saw the file,” Samual told them. “He wanted to send Jack there as a way to retrieve the file and get back to working on the game again, even if he knew it wasn’t safe. Unfortunately the file routed its way back to this city and took Jack with him.”

“And then it took Penny,” Amber whispered.

“Okay,” Riley gathered herself, her mind settling back into business. “Jason sent Jack away and lied to everyone for all these years. That wasn’t your fault Samual.”

“But I-” he tried to speak.

“You told me that whenever you tried to speak up to talk to someone then Jason would get in the way and scare you into stopping,” she stated firmly. “Don’t blame yourself because a grown man was enough of a coward to bully a child.”

He looked like he was about to retort, but a stern glare from Riley was all that he needed to heed what she said, “Ok Miss Riley.”

“Next,” she moved on. “What should be our second course of action.”

Pomni quickly moved back to the computer.

No one else in the circus has their memories

Is there a way we can try and help them get them back? – Penny

“Oh, oh wait!” Samual piped up, an idea bright in his mind. “I overheard Jason talking about this. He has USB files of each person that went missing, including their past leading up to this point.”

“You overhear a lot of stuff kid,” Riley crossed her arms. “I didn’t mean that as a criticism, just observing.”

“Hehe, well, when you’ve been isolated from everyone and everything all your life you tend to get a bit bored,” Samual replied with a wry smile. “Case in point, eavesdropping on the guy you’re suspicious off in order to gather information.”

“So if we get the USB files and hook them into this computer,” Amber started to catch on.

“It could help get their memories back,” Samual finished. “I’ll get to see if my parents are there!”

“This is amazing!” Amber cheered. “Well, not fully amazing because their all still stuck but we’re getting somewhere. Oh wait till Winter hears about Jack being alive!”

A wide grin appeared on Jax’s face. Winter, his sister, he could finally see her again! Reassure her that he was alive-

“-Wait! No, no!” Riley quickly interjected, making everyone become quickly confused at her sudden outburst. “We can’t tell Winter, not yet at least.”

Amber blinked in surprise, “Honey, she’s your wife. She’s been missing Jack for so long, she needs to know the truth.”

Pomni watched as Jax’s ear twitch, a slight scowl was on his face. He didn’t like this one bit.

 “I know that,” Riley said. “But you weren’t there when Jack was gone. She went nearly catatonic, unable to move, speak or eat. The devastation of losing him for so long nearly broke her. We nearly lost Percy in birth because of the impact. I…I can’t risk that happening again.”

A slow, angered breath released through Jax’s nose as he started to type again.

This is a mistake Riley

Winter deserves to know

You can’t keep this from her – Jack

Riley shook her head, “I’m doing this to protect her. It’s for her own good Jack.”

He wasn’t convinced, turning away from her. Riley shouldn’t have to make that choice for Winter, it wasn’t fair! She needed to know, not be kept in the dark!

Pomni patted his hand softly as she went to the keyboard.

But he’s right Riley – Penny

“I’ll tell her eventually,” Riley reassured everyone. “J-just not now, until I know for sure that everything will be fine.”

Pomni sighed. Riley was as stubborn as they came, there was no changing her mind with this.

Both rabbit and jester jumped when they heard the dinner bell ringing from outside the exit door. It was time to go.

We have to leave

You better know what you’re doing Riley – Penny

“What? But you just came back!” Riley cried.

Amber put a hand on her daughter’s shoulder, “Don’t worry. If this interaction has proved anything, they’ll be back.”

Riley was unconvinced, but if there was anyone she trusted more than anything, it was her mother. “Ok,” she nodded, “Just…please be safe Penny.”

I will

And like that, both rabbit and jester rushed out the door. They were able to make it on dinner on time, and Caine was none the wiser about what happened. But despite the feast laid out in front of him, everything that Riley said left a bitter taste in Jax’s mouth. After Penny, Winter was the one he was closest to out of anyone in his life. He might not have been the greatest person, but Winter was the furthest thing from bad. She was the reason that he started to believe that good things could happen in his life, and now Riley was refusing to tell her that he was here and alive.

It felt so wrong.

Pomni’s hand was on his leg, still yet reassuring. It was a silent confirmation that she was on his side about this. He laid his hand atop hers, making sure it was out of Caine’s sight. He squeezed it, hopefully things would be okay…they had to be.

.

.

.

“Riley…”

Black, everything was black.

“Riley…”

It was like she was stuck in inky tar, unable to move her feet, stuck in the black substance.

“Riley.”

She looked up, the redhead gasped as she saw one very familiar, visible figure.

“Penny?” Riley’s voice sounded louder in her ears.

The brunette was wearing the same outfit Riley had last seen her in, a plain white T-shirt and grey leggings. Though it looked dirtier than she last remembered, and why were her eyes shut?

“Why did you leave me?” Penny’s voice echoed.

Riley was startled by the sudden statement, “What?”

“You’re my big sister,” Penny mumbled. “You’re supposed to protect me…yet you didn’t.”

“No, Penny I didn’t mean for you to get trapped!” Riley yelled out for her. “I’m doing everything I can to bring you home!”

“You said you would always be there for me,” Penny whispered back. “You said that no matter what happens I would be safe if you were there…but you weren’t…you didn’t save me…you’re a liar.”

“I’m so sorry Penny,” Riley sobbed, hands on her leg as she tried to pull them out, but to no avail. “I’m really sorry!”

“Liar,” Penny repeated.

“Liar!”

“LIAR!”

“L̷̩͚̯̲̖͖̙͔̹̬̮͉̲̝̑̊̀́ͅỈ̸̢̹̝̝͓͔̟̠̌́́̆͝Á̵̬͎͛̐̑̔̃̈́̓R̶̳̪̩̹̳̬̻̜̫͇̓̏̀͐͒͂̚͠͝͝”

Riley gasped, trying to run but she was frozen solid in the ink. Suddenly, the darkness was replaced by thousands of multicoloured eyes staring at her as Penny drew closer.

The brunette grabbed Riley by the collar of her shirt. It was nothing but silence.

Then her eyes opened.

Riley screamed when she saw that they were as hollow and black as the ink.

Penny opened her mouth again, the same ink leaking out from her lips as she screeched one more time.

Ļ̷̨̛͚̙̭̖̩̥̝͇̮̻̼͍͎̗͉͍̦͖̹͎͔͈̞̰̟̯̩̝̠̻̫͕̱̝̎͊̽̈́̇̀͊̄̑͋̅͊̔̄͒̃̀͌̈́̏̈͆͐̋̓͐̾͛̊̈́̈́́̏̋̀̄̏̈̚̚͘͘̕̕͠ͅÌ̶̧̧̧̛̛̪͔̝͚̫͎̝̬͈̺̫̭̱̞̹͖̞̹̳̻͖̫͉̋̓͋̈́̓͂͗͐̈́̐̈͐̒͗͆̏͛̈̏͌͗͑̈́̐͐̔̂̊͊́͆͆̒̓̾̀̀̾͘̚̕̕̚͜͝ͅͅA̷̢̧̛̛̻̳̞̬̟͇̟̟͉͔̻̻͙̩̣͈̖̘͙̪̱͎̰͙̝͚̣͈̓͒̎͛̆̓̋͌̅̈́͂̏̎̈́̅̍̈̈́̆̕͜͝͠͝ͅR̴̡͈̞͔̮̻̩͋͂͑̚ͅ

.

.

.

Riley awoke with a scream tearing from her throat, her hands fisting the bed sheets beneath her. She failed her, she failed Penny, she couldn’t save her, she was nothing but a failure-

“Riley, Riley!” Winter reached out, taking her wife’s hands in hers. “It’s okay, see, everything is ok.”

Riley was still trembling, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Breathe with me babe,” Winter told her, taking deep breaths in and out again. Riley gulped down a sob, repeating her wife’s pattern. Eventually, she breath was even again and she was calm enough to see her surroundings. There was no ink, no eyes. She was in her bedroom with Winter as the other woman turned the lamp on beside the bed. “It’s okay, it was just a nightmare.”

She was about to bring Riley back into her arms, before the redhead pulled away and stood up, “Sorry I didn’t mean to wake you. I’ll go sleep in the guest room, to let you rest before work.”

“No, wait, Riley!” Winter shouted as her partner gathered up her pillow and a spare blanket. “I just wanna talk, you don’t have to do this.”

“I want to get some sleep before work, alright? Conversation over,” Riley stated, gathering what she needed in her arms before marching to the door.

“Riley enough!” Winter yelled, making Riley freeze in her tracks still facing the door. “We can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what?” she retorted bitterly.

“You avoiding me,” Winter told her. “Especially when you’re hurting. You can’t keep pretending that I don’t exist just because you’re too scared to talk about Penny.”

Riley bit her tongue, nearly drawing blood, “I’m not scared Winter. Stop it.”

“Where were you last night?” Winter questioned, unrelenting. “Yesterday you wouldn’t answer your phone after I tried calling you for hours. Where were you?”

Riley couldn’t say, she couldn’t. If Winter was told about Jack, she feared about what could happen. She still remembered Winter’s pale face, nearly slipping in and out of consciousness during Percy’s C-section. She nearly lost both her wife and her son that day. She couldn’t tell her, it’s for her own good.

“My mom’s house, my phone was on silent,” she said, her voice void of emotion. “I’m tired.”

She slammed the door behind her, leaving Winter all alone. The black-haired woman brought her knees to her chest, too exhausted to cry. Too tired to keep having these moments with Riley. She would give anything just to have her wife back.

.

.

.

“Well good morning little lady,” Jax bowed as he walked out of his room the next morning. “And how was your sleep last night?”

“Aren’t we supposed to be subtle?” Pomni placed her hands on her hips. “Cause as far as I can’t tell, I don’t think this is what it’s supposed to be.”

“But it made you smile, right?” he smirked.

Pomni blushed, he was right, she was smiling, “Shut up.”

He chuckled, nudging his head to the direction down the hallway, “Hungry?”

“Yeah, I could eat,” Pomni nodded. She was about to walk beside him when she noticed something in the corner of a door from one of the past circus members. She cocked her head to the side as she inspected it further.

Jax paused in his tracks when he noticed that his fiancé wasn’t next to him, “Pen?” He saw her staring at the door of an old string-worm character, coming up behind her carefully so he wouldn’t spook her. “What is it?”

“Do you see that?” she inquired.

“See what?” he asked.

She pointed to the corner, “That.”

Jax’s eyes squinted as he followed her fingers, they widened when they finally noticed what Pomni was talking about. The corner was glitching, similar to how Ragatha was when Kaufmo attacked her on the jester’s first day. “How is this possible?” Pomni observed.

“I…I don’t know,” Jax replied honestly. “I don’t think we’ve seen anything like this.”

Suddenly, the glitch sparked wildly and loudly, making them jump back in surprise. It started to spread across the door, erasing the face of the string worm with its flashing colours. Jax held Pomni protectively, guiding her away from the door as they stepped away slowly. They watched as little by little, it swallowed up the door, before disappearing entirely.

Both of them panted in surprise, this wasn’t good. It wasn’t good at all. “I think we need to hurry with our escape plan,” Pomni told the rabbit holding her.

“Agreed,” Jax nodded. “We’re on a timer Pomni.”

“The question is how long do we have?” her voice shook slightly, gripping onto him.

“Long enough for us to get out of here,” he told her, reassurance in his voice. “That much I know.”

“O-okay,” Pomni hated that she was stuttering, but the sudden fright of what happened didn’t seem to be letting go of her anytime soon.

“Come on, let’s get downstairs before Caine tries to find us,” Jax stood, holding out his hand and helping up the jester.

While the two walked down the hallway, they couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling of what just happened. Did they really not have enough time? Was it just another strange part of this world?

Those questions rung through their mind as they walked down the hall, unaware of a second little glitch behind them in another little corner of the hall.

[carlos-in-glasses]

Thank you for the tag lovely and gorgeous writers @alrightbuckaroo @reyesstrand @bonheur-cafe @catanisspicy @theghostofashton @lemonlyman-dotcom @chaotictarlos ❤️

One last section of Hands Fic before it's posted!

“Can I tell you something else?” Carlos asks.

“Yeah, baby, of course you can.” TK stares up at him, wide-eyed and dewy, the pleasure in his body starting to roll and spike again as Carlos presses his middle fingertip carefully but relentlessly inside him.

“Since you’ve moved in, I always think of the same thing just before I go to sleep. Like, it helps me fall asleep.” Carlos blushes. It’s a small pinkness, but TK can detect it shining amongst the golden warmth of his skin. “It’s not really a sex thing. I mean, it sort of is. We were naked. Your first night here. You said you were too tired to do anything much. I asked if you wanted me to hold you.”

“I said yes. I wanted you to hold me all night.”

“You took your clothes off and I thought you were going to put your pajamas on, but you didn’t. You just stood in front of me.” Carlos’ breath changes – shakes in a different way. “I stripped off. We looked at each other naked. And touched each other. I don’t know for how long. Then we got into bed, and we kissed for a while. You wanted to rub my back but you were so exhausted, so I rubbed yours. You fell asleep. I was awake, like, all night, almost. Because you asked me to hold you. I didn’t want to sleep because I thought I might let go and I didn’t want to. But now I do go to sleep thinking about it. I go to sleep holding you while remembering holding you. You’re in my mind, TK, and my body. It’s like I’m flooded with life when I touch you, but with peace as well. Do you know what I mean?”

A lump rises in TK’s throat. He tries to blink away his tears, but lying down, gravity drags them from his eyes and [redacted].

Carlos doesn’t do the usual thing. The whispery “hey hey hey hey” hushing. He doesn’t stop to hold him. He keeps working his hand up and down TK’s c*ck, keeps the fingers of his left hand inside him, and he watches TK cry, letting a few tears of his own sweep down his face, and together they just feel it. They feel what it’s like to be back together, with the full knowledge of what it’s like to be apart, to have thought they would never touch each other like this again. For the first time since [redacted], TK finds himself truly in the moment. His mind fogs around the past, and he lets it go without even realizing. He watches Carlos’ perfect hands feel him intimately, and he breathes the way Carlos tells him, filling his body with air.

Tagging: @freneticfloetry @taralaurel @goodways @welcometololaland @liminalmemories21 @strandnreyes @rmd-writes @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @ladytessa74 @never-blooms @chicgeekgirl89 @mikibwrites @basilsunrise @wandering-night19 @rosedavid @iboatedhere @lightningboltreader - if you want to share/haven't already! No pressure ever, just rainbows and high-fives 🤚🌈

[autisticempathydaemon]

Hi Lexi! I saw your match ups and I'm curious who you'd match me up with, if you wouldn't mind?

•What song are you fixated on at the moment? What lyric or verse, and why?

• Okay, so I’ve listened to ‘Rule #34’ by Fish in a Birdcage over and over. The verse ‘You look so good, there on your knees/ Such a good girl knows how to please/ Look at me, look me in the eyes/ Forget yourself, surrender your mind/ Right now, you’re mine/ All mine/ Give in, you’re mine/ All mine (oh)’ I really have no real reason that comes to mind except that it scratches something in my brain.

•What is your Enneagram type?

•I'm an INFJ

•Do you love gargantuan Youtube video essays, and if so, which is your favorite and why?

•I do not, the closest I’d say I enjoy are the Redacted 101 videos

•Tell me about your childhood imaginary friend.

•I actually can’t remember much of my childhood. I think I used to have an imaginary friend but I can’t remember specifics

•What is your go-to way to fall asleep?

•listening to ASMR videos, usually Redacted

•If you had to change your name, what would it be, and why? (In tandem, if you have changed your name, why did you pick that one?)

• Hmmm that’s a good question. I actually like my name so I’ve never thought of changing it. I might go with Amitisia, it’s kinda cringe because it’s the name I gave to a main character of a story I never finished writing when I was a teenager.

•What is your favorite of Redacted’s audios, and why?

•Number one spot goes to “Your Incubus Confesses His Feelings (Again) While You Sleep”. It’s so soft and sweet and makes me feel so comforted when I’m having a bad day. I’ve listened to it a lot before I fall asleep.

Second place would go to “Falling For Your Yandere Childhood Friend”

•What Redacted boy holds no appeal to you, and why? Like, not the one you hate but the one who you don’t get the hype for. (I won’t judge, I promise.)

•Hate to say it but Ollie, he’s so sweet and nice but I was just never interested? And it always seems like we get an Ollie video before something bad happens so maybe that has something to do with it?

•Tell me about that one book/movie/tv show you know all the words to.

•I tend to replay shows and movies I like a lot so there’s a bunch. I guess I’ll go with “Mulan” because it’s my all time favorite Disney movie.

•Which Redacted boy are you platonically attracted to? Like- forget dating, which dude do you want to be your best friend?

•Oh, definitely Asher! Whenever I listen to his playlist I'm just like…You’re cute and chaotic but I’d rather have you as a wing-man.

•Do you have a go-to thing you ramble about when you’re tired, and if so, what is it? (For example, my boyfriend knows I’m ready to sleep when I start talking about space.)

•So, irl I’m a very quiet person, so I get even more quiet when I’m tired. I guess if I picked something, it’d be something I’m currently trying to write?

•Tell me your go-to gas station and drink combo.

•Nachos and cheese and root beer

•Tell me about your favorite playlist at the moment.

•I’ve currently been obsessed with the Epic the Musical playlist. I have to stop myself from singing it when I listen at work

•What’s your guilty pleasure media, and why?

•Reverse harem books, especially if it’s more of a poly situation than a multiple guys are with one girl. I was always frustrated with love triangles in books growing up, because…why can’t they all just be together. It was a pretty blaring flag that I was poly, now that I think about it.

•Extras

•My favorite color is purple. I love cats. I enjoy anime or animated shows/movies over live action. I collect pins, rocks/crystals, and stuffed animals. I hate certain food textures.

There are lots of cute details here to consider and prioritize when I was considering your match, but your being a writer won out. I can’t not pair a writer with Guy, you know?

Despite the same hobby/vocation, I love the small ways you contrast each other as well. Guy’s extroverted, bombastic nature would be such a cute foil to your introverted, quiet self. You’re a cat person; I imagine Guy as a dog person. These differences keep things interesting and balanced but not discordant, you know? I also think Guy is one of the redacted bois most likely to be poly/a romantic anarchist, so that’s another factor that would make y’all work so well. (He’d have similar feelings about love triangles, and a couple that bitches together stays together /hj /pos)

Guy would be such a charming boyfriend- not necessarily an easy one to an introvert but definitely a charming one. You two have writing sessions that are meant to be done quietly, in tandem, and they never are, always interrupted by Guy’s stream of consciousness and sidetracked thoughts spoken out loud. (Somehow, you still always get so much written. He’s very inspiring that way.) You two adopt both a cat and a dog that get along a lot better than anyone would expect. Guy always feels in his bones when you’re not having a great day and comes home with a new rock or pin for collection.

Song:

And that's because I wanna be your favorite boy/ I wanna be the one that makes your day/ The one you think about as you lie awake/ I can't wait to be your number one/ I'll be your biggest fan and you'll be mine

The song I picked for y’all isn’t necessarily one I think you’d both like per se, though it’s very catchy; I picked it because it’d make a good soundtrack to your love story. It makes me think of Guy falling in love with you, falling first, and being like “just you wait, I am going to win you over”, like he wants to be your favorite boy, your boyfriend, but best friend/roommate is a good start.

Runner-ups:

Huxley is a cute runner-up for you as an ambivert, but I especially love how often he’d bring you rocks and crystals for your collection, maybe even getting you a special shelf to display them on. Camelopardalis is your other runner-up, because he’s one loving partner away from falling in love with cats; he just needs someone to show him the way.

Read this post and send me an ask if you’d like a match-up of your own! 💌

[ominous-faechild]

Hello, @ominous-feychild ! 👋✨

From the QnA tag, my eyes immediately went to Tazin the theatre kid (can relate). Can you tell me a little more about this character?

Haha, it doesn't shouldn't surprise me that you'd be interested in Tazin "the theater kid" {REDACTED}, Golden! Sorry for taking a while to get to this ask, I've been busy!

(Aka I've been stubborn about trying to get to these in order, but was stuck on Ludmila's part of another ask...)

Before I begin, I figured I should clarify: Tazin's name is pronounced "tah-zeen"! I've received some questions on this in the past and I know it's unconventional, so.

Tazin {REDACTED} | aka "Svarog"

So, to begin with! Unlike most characters, Tazin's last name will never be given within these posts, haha. Not only does he purposely hide it/his family, but it's actually spoilers! His family's name appears within the story, and I definitely don't want to expose him early, haha.

The reason I call him "Tazin the theater kid" is because, predictably, he's an absolute theater kid. I mean, he's never been able to do participate in theater stuff because Glavnran (but especially Kavo, the town he grows up in) is way too poor and stuck in survival mode to be able to afford stuff like that. But, still! Just one glimpse at this kid and you'd see it.

I'll give you a few glimpses of an as-of-the-moment (and will be for a while) unpublished chapter narrated by him as a treat, haha.

It wasn’t normal for someone to be in the alley, of course. The only “decent” people to ever go there would be the pasidnyy—taking a shortcut in pursuit of a villain—or a person chasing something stolen by the wind. Why would you go through an alley when it put you at risk of running into a bolyui or some punk looking for trouble? Well, Tazin was that punk. And bolyui weren’t real. They were just a scary story told to children to make them behave for adults.

(Note: bolyui are very real. The first and second chapters prove that much, and that they are utterly terrifying. He's just an arrogant kid who thinks he knows everything. /lh)

But some of {the "everyday people" on the streets} might’ve been pretenders, like him. Some of them might be out there with ominous motives—might even be working with the khonitva. Them, or the uzhar. Like him. Except, he didn’t work with the uzhar anymore. He’d seen to that.

(This kid KILLS me, istg--)

This strategy never went wrong. Nope, nuh-uh.

A genius plan, of course. He’d come up with it, after all.

Worst case scenario, if he couldn’t lose his pursuers, he could just set another building on fire. That always distracted people. A kid goes in a building, then the building burns down. Nobody ever suspected that the kid made it out—much less that the fire was meant to cover his escape.

(If that seems unrealistic, it's because it is. The cops absolutely suspect the kid survived, especially since he's pulled that exact same stunt a few times. He just thinks he's getting away with it because he hasn't noticed anything and they're too busy putting out the fires/saving others to find him in or escaping from the site.)

But Tazin’s mind wasn’t on any of his strategies. Instead, he was thinking of the letter he’d left. ‘I left the uzhar,’ it’d begun. ‘I don’t care if you want me to stay with them, I QUIT!’ Tazin had written, aggressively underlining the word “quit.” When he’d left the uzhar, he’d destroyed one of their hideouts. The recipient probably didn’t know that, but Tazin was sure that the uzhar had figured it out. That, and the message he was trying to send by doing so. Fire was Tazin’s whole ‘thing’, after all. ‘They were horrible, just like YOU, and I hate both of you!’ he’d written, once again aggressively underlining the word “you” on top of using all caps. ‘So I’m not going back,’ Tazin had written. Little did the recipient know that Tazin wouldn’t be able to go back even if he wanted to. He’d burned that bridge—almost literally—alongside their hideout. That’s why he’d done it, after all. ‘And don’t expect me to come back to you, either,” Tazin had initially finished the letter with. ‘You’re no better than them.’ But then he’d crossed the two sentences out, running the charcoal over them so it’d be impossible for the recipient to read it. As much as he wanted to hurt the recipient of his letter, he also hated the thought of it. And calling them “no better than the uzhar” would be too far. If Tazin had told them that, they might’ve finally given up on Tazin completely. Left him alone. And, as much as Tazin tried telling himself otherwise, he didn’t want to be abandoned. Not again. So, instead of that, Tazin had replaced those lines with: ‘and tell Mom I’m NOT coming back and to STOP looking for me!!!’

THIS IS ALL FROM HIS INTRO CHAPTER BTW-- 🤣

That last "bit" (read: everything about the letter) is spaced out between paragraphs of action. He's thinking about it while doing other stuff. I think it's a great intro chapter in general that pretty solidly explains his character and a lot of his business, haha.

Then again, maybe I'm just flattering myself.

ANNNNYHOW! As you can probably tell, he's an absolute drama queen with horrible attachment issues. A little under a year before the start of the story, Tazin was kicked out of his home. His family later changed their minds and tried inviting him back, but he's stubbornly refused to return, leading to him being in the position he is at the start of the Arcane Rifts.

I don't know if it's clear from the snippet (overall it's not the biggest deal but I want to clarify), but the "recipient of the letter" isn't his dad, but someone who is/was closely associated with his family.

Overall, Tazin's genuinely a fun character to write (most of the time)! He's very overdramatic; his narration is condescending toward the reader, as though he's talking to them, because he sees his own life as a story where he's the tragic hero; and whether it's ironically or played straight, lots of people seem to find him pretty funny.

Which, hey, he'd love to hear that!

(Minus the ironically part... actually tbh young!Tazin would probably lash out at you if you told him you thought he was funny. Y'know, thinking you thought he needed the validation. Whoops.)

Like Gene, Tazin starts the story young. He's only nine at first (if you couldn't tell,,,) but progresses to fifteen by the end of book 1 (there's a lot of timeskips through Important Events as the kids age up. Trust me, I'm careful with the pacing though, haha).

But, uh... that definitely colors my perception of his character a little differently than I'm sure you guys will see him. For a long while, you'll only see him as a kid, where his more negative traits (arrogance, selfishness, refusal to admit if/when he's wrong, etc) are a lot more excusable and possibly even charming. But in my head, all I see is how that stuff carries over to Adult!Tazin (because he never gets better), and I like him a lot less because of that, haha.

On a similar note, feel free to check out the songs that represent him.

A little more relevantly! If it wasn't obvious enough already (or if you haven't stumbled upon me mentioning it before), Tazin is a fire mage and healer! Otherwise known as a sech and izsech respectively in their language. Both powers typically come from their fire god (which, out-of-universe, takes a lot of inspiration from Hestia), Rholvny.

Like most mages, Tazin has an affinity for his element... which has turned more into an obsession for him if you couldn't tell. I've mentioned before that his (actual, lowkey) obsession with arson is related to a traumatic incident in his past?

Tazin is a complicated character. As much as I (hate to hate and hate to) love him, his character arcs revolve around his family / abandonment issues; the many, many problems it caused him (he used to just be a brat, but now...); and his relationship with Gene.

The two--Gene and Tazin--grow up together supporting one another because nobody else will do so for them. Tazin faces discrimination for his arson his skin tone, being Jhandan (or Fantasy!Indian) in a xenophobic country, aaaand for his deeply problematic aggression issues. Gene, on the other hand, is disabled and autistic--and you betcha Glavnran is ableist and social darwinists, too!

On Tazin's end, their relationship is/was problematic for a few reasons. One, Gene is too timid to stand up to him, leading to Tazin's worse habits never getting corrected since he can get away with them. Two, Gene becomes an enabler for Tazin's worse traits because of their history together. Aaaand, three... while Gene sees Tazin as like a brother, Tazin develops romantic feelings for him by the end of the first book.

Yeah. There's just NO end to the problems there--

But I guess those are just some of the many tragedies associated with two kids raising themselves and each other! (Despite that, they're still cute to read the interactions of whenever Tazin isn't being toxic.)

And, of course, this is all stuff I tackle (even if only through implication) within the story!

I'm sure this all is only one of the many reasons tAR won't be the most popular of my stories. 😅😭

Sorry I got a good bit into Gene there! I don't know if you can tell, but the two are practically inseparable, and their dynamic with one another majorly shapes how they turn out! (For probably obvious reasons.)

Hope you enjoyed reading! I actually cut out a LOT of possible snippets for the sake of (nonexistent) brevity, haha. Feel free to reblog and/or tell me what you think! PS: I think I'm probably going to change Tazin's title to "the dramatic". Thoughts?

Tag list: @honeybewrites @the-golden-comet @illarian-rambling @ashirisu @urnumber1star

@the-letterbox-archives @48lexr @aalinaaaaaa

Divider by @cafekitsune

[swanconcerto]

redacted characters working in tescos

born from discord… this works for any large supermarket really. this is so long and for what

vincent: he works at self checkouts and gets a lot of enjoyment from iding old ladies to make them feel young again. talks too much and takes forever to help people but he’s pretty so you don’t get mad

lovely: maintenance team. always gets called down to fix the perpetually broken self checkout system but they’re starting to suspect it’s not an accident anymore

sam: he works in the warehouse . registered first aider except he’s never on the shop floor so he never does anything . somehow on really good terms with all of the delivery drivers. is starting to get really freaked out by that one security guard who keeps wandering around in the back

darlin: security guard except they never really do the job properly… like they’re skulking around dark corridors and corners looking for “threats” and david is like can you please just chase after that shoplifter

david: head security guard he likes to stand at the front desk by the doors and just cross his arms and scowl. it’s working spectacularly on deterring crime

angel: works at the customer service front desk and LOVES it. absolutely refuses to be antagonised they’re so 😁😁 even at the rudest of customers. another person who talks too much to be doing a good job. gossips to the customers about store goings-on. keeps trying to engage the grumpy security guard by their desk in conversation with varying levels of success

asher: yeah he’s another security guard what do you expect. but he’s constantly on the move he’s strolling about the store like he owns the place chatting up all the workers and the customers. everyone knows him and loves him but if you even think about shoplifting anything or starting a fight with a worker he’s right behind you “what are you doing there buddy 😆”

babe: shelf-stacker but not in a boring way. genuinely a monster at packing out it is insane. their aisles are so neat and tidy and they’re so fast. that one worker who knows exactly where everything is it’s like they live in the place. so good at their job and isn’t distracted by anything. except maybe one person.

milo: security guard who wants to have the same easygoing respect that asher gets but is far too easily antagonised by kids to earn. saturday afternoons are the worst when all the kids are off of school they come into the store just to piss him off because it’s so easy “now you listen here you little…”

sweetheart: they work in the phone shop! they’re kind of intimidating to talk to but they will help you and only judge you a little bit for not knowing technology. everyone would rather talk to them than the other worker (marcus). has formed an alliance with the kids that come in on saturdays “i’m going to give you this old phone and tell that guard that you’re stealing it, i’ll let you keep it if you make him trip when he’s chasing you”

gavin: slutting it out on the tills. i’m deadly serious he will flirt with everyone who passes through. “do you have a clubcard” has never sounded so sultry before. he’s actually decent at his job but recently he’s been told off several times for getting distracted staring at a certain worker who seems to just be doing everything… maybe it’s time he got trained in other departments

freelancer: multiskiller 🤩 literally another one who seems like they’ve been there forever and just knows how to do everything. they’ve stacked shelves, packed dotcom orders, worked checkouts… freelancer likes the variety and getting to know people in every department

damien: also at the customer service desk AGAINST HIS WISHES and in complete contrast to angel he absolutely hates it and you can so tell. management put him there because he’s so dedicated to the job and well organised and he SEEMS like he would be good at it… but every day damien’s patience is tested to the max. it’s so obvious when a customer is pissing him off. will SNATCH an item out of your hand if you are trying to return it. “what do you mean you didn’t bring your receipt 😑😐”

huxley: works in produce and loves it! super good at lifting all the heavy crates of vegetables. talks to all the loose fruit and vegetables he gets a few weird looks but it is cute. says hey to EVERYONE on his way in especially that one guy at the front desk who always looks like he’s about to pop a vein. no one knows when or why those two starting taking their breaks together but it is certainly a cute sight.

lasko: he works in bakery!!! he used to work on the shop floor but it was too stressful so the nice people from bakery kind of adopted him. likes the routine of making things and then packaging them up. plus minimal customer interaction = he just daydreams for a lot of his shift. although sometimes customers manage to get a hold of him to ask him something and he completely blue-screens. he’s trying his best.

lasko’s listener: for some reason i see them in dairy section in like the fridges? one time they got trapped BRIEFLY in the warehouse fridge with a certain bakery worker. they huddled together for warmth. #sorrynotsorry

kody: petrol station. no one in the main store wants to look at him

guy: delivery driver of course! used to work as a shelf stacker but got a warning for “checking for you in the back ☺️” (sitting in the back on his phone) he was so hopeless when he first got the driver job and got lost all the time but now he’s pretty dependable. will flaunt his little reflective jacket constantly. will also constantly flirt with the hot person working dispatch

honey: the aforementioned hot person working dispatch aka who loads all the delivery trays onto the vans. they really just wanted a job where they could stick their earphones in, do manual labour and not talk to anyone alas this infuriating delivery driver won’t stop bothering them. they’re making out in the back as we speak.

geordi: another shelf-stacker! like lasko, he gets super nervous when people ask him questions on where things are, but he can handle it. usually. more than once has sent someone in the wrong direction and tortured himself over it for the rest of the day. gets a really cute concentrating face when he’s in the zone working so please don’t interrupt him!!!

cutie: works in the clothing section! they look good even in their uniform so you feel kind of nervous when they’re just staring at you picking out some clothes. offers unsolicited opinions but they’re always really helpful so it’s fine. struts about with that clothing rail like it’s their god-given birthright

quinn: cleaner who always gets stuck doing the toilets. takes too many vape breaks

[aita-blorbos]

Aita for ACCIDENTALLY ruining my brothers wedding

Look I get that that’s not a great start but let me explain

I 36f recently moved back into the city I grew up in, I met up with my brother 36m and found out he was engaged (we lost contact a few years before this, so I didn’t even know he was dating anyone)

He was never the best judge of character, and we have a very rich stepfather, both of which has led to him getting into toxic relationship with men using him for our inevitable inheritance, so you can understand why I was a little suspicious at first

I didn’t want to make any assumptions so I met my brothers fiancé 38m, he seemed nice but I couldn’t help but think there was something off about him and it didn’t help that he shares a last name with the city’s so called “hero” despite not living here when before I moved (I will not be sharing his last name as it’s pretty uncommon and don’t want my brother seeing this and knowing it’s me)

So like a completely rational normal person would do, I searched on the internet to find out everything I could about him, and what I found was horrifying to say the least

It turns out his mother was a serial killer, she got caught because the neighbours smelled something rotting on their property a phoned the police, she got arrested thank whoever and her family ended up loosing all their assets (that’s right they were rich until this was discovered)

I decided to confront him about this, and asked why he didn’t go to the police, his response is that he was “scared of what his mother might have done to him if he did” and I’m not trying to victim blame here and he looked very upset so I just tried to leave it be

And I did for a bit though I made sure my brother was aware of the (he was apparently) I spent some time after that getting me and my kids (one boy 8 and one girl also 8) ready for the wedding

But I couldn’t stop thinking about it, something just didn’t feel right, I told my brother about this and he got upset saying that “he already knew about *redacted*’s mother” and that “I should trust him with his romantic decisions” that last part pissed me off a bit, I mean he’s had some pretty shit relationships and each time I (along with his best friend) were the ones that told him you need to leave that relationship

I decided to ask him (my brother’s fiancé) about it more, mostly about the loss of assets from his mother’s murders, he said he “didn’t really care” I asked him if the fact he used to be rich then lost it had anything to do with why he was marrying my brother his response “of course not, only a horrible person would do such a thing” and though I agree that only horrible people would date and marry someone for money but something about the way he said it put me off

I was going to ask more but my brother arrived and was understandably upset that I was once again interrogating his fiancé, he told me that “if I do anything like that one more time I’d be uninvited to his wedding” I agreed to not do it any further but pointed out I was only doing it because I love him and don’t want to see him get hurt, he said he understands but he truly love him and knows he loves him back

So the wedding came it was nice, my brothers best friend (along with his wife) cried, after the main ceremony I brought it up with some of the guests about how my brother’s now husband grew up and about his serial killer mom, some of the guests ignored me, others said they never would have guessed, but there was this one guy who thought I was right that he was suspicious

We ended up talking about it for a bit and he said he thought it weird that prior to the neighbours calling the police there had never been any attempts to contact them and I agreed and once again confronted my brother’s now husband (hey I never said I would stop) he told me the same things as before but I couldn’t accept it this time something was up I kept pressing on it and eventually he ran off

Unfortunately my brother saw him run off and got very mad though he didn’t confront me until after the wedding was over and instead went after his husband, they didn’t end up returning and the party ended an hour before it should have and the whole time everyone was worried about where the two (thought mostly my brother’s husband) were

When I got home I got a call from my brother, he was upset and asked “how I could do such a thing” and “I really upset *redacted*” I explained that I felt his husband was suspicious and he shouldn’t be upset I wad just trying to protect him, he yelled that “he didn’t need protection” and “*redacted* was a wonderful man, whom I hurt for no reason beyond my unfathomable distrust in whoever my brother chooses” and hung up

I called him back and he told me “he doesn’t want to talk to me right now”

TL;DR I was highly suspicious of my brother’s fiancé and in that suspicion ended up ruining his wedding aita?

[wingedsublimeland]

Scene: The Breakroom, Site-██

Several doctors sat around a table, mugs of coffee steaming as the buzz of light conversation filled the room. Dr. Tannen was flipping through a thick folder, his eyebrows raised.

“I still can’t believe how long this thing has gotten,” he said, holding up the folder. “Dr. Bright’s ‘Not Allowed to Do’ list is practically a novel now.”

Dr. Carter snorted. “Are you surprised? Bright finds new ways to make a fool of himself every week. The list is a necessity at this point.”

Dr. Patel leaned back in her chair, smirking. “Well, if you think that’s impressive, you should see Adam’s list for his kids.”

That got everyone’s attention.

“Adam? As in the Adam? Father of humanity, site dad, that Adam?” Dr. Tannen asked, leaning forward.

“The very same,” Dr. Patel confirmed, taking a sip of her coffee. “Turns out, he keeps a running list of things his kids aren’t allowed to do. And it’s... something else.”

Dr. Carter laughed. “Oh, this I’ve got to hear. What’s on it?”

Dr. Patel pulled out her phone, scrolling through some notes. “I managed to get a look at a copy the other day. Here’s a short version.” She cleared her throat dramatically.

---

SCP-18-X5’s List of Things His Kids Are Not Allowed to Do:

1. Abel is not allowed to spar with anyone without my supervision. (No one wants a repeat of the last "sparring match" that destroyed the training wing.)

2. Cain is not allowed to eat any form of anomalous plants even if they are resistant his anomalous capabilities. (We still haven’t from the SCP [REDACTED] instant )

3. Seth is not allowed to use foundation technology as “toys.” (The teleportation mishap with the vending machine was enough even if it was accidental.)

4. No one is allowed to babysit Seth.

(It was one time, and now we have a star system that screams. Never again.)

5. Abel is not allowed to threaten staff unless explicitly ordered. (“It’s called motivational tactics, Dad!”)

6. Cain is not allowed to argue philosophy with D-Class personnel. (We’re still getting complaints from the ethics committee about the “existential rebellion” incident.)

7. Seth is not allowed to experiment with the cafeteria food. (“The soup gained sentience, again.”)

8. Abel is not allowed to challenge SCP-682 to a duel. (“But he called me a coward!”)

9. Cain is not allowed to refer to Site-██ as “his domain.” (He keeps charging rent. It’s getting awkward.)

10. None of my kids are allowed to ask Dr. Bright for advice. (“That man’s ideas are hazardous even by my standards.”)

11. Cain is not to be used like a Wikipedia or dictionary by the other staff even if he does have all the answers. ("This one is for you, Dr. Bright don't think I haven't heard you going around asking Cain how to get world domination or make a chainsaw bazooka out of macaroni and cheese I don't want to find out if that's possible or if it's impossible either way goes stop bothering my kid")

---

By the time Dr. Patel finished reading, the room was filled with stunned silence.

“Wait, wait, what happened when Seth was babysat?” Dr. Tannen asked, eyes wide.

Dr. Patel shrugged. “No one really knows the details. Adam only ever says, ‘Some things are better left forgotten.’ But apparently, it involved celestial phenomena, a temporary rift in reality, and the Foundation having to cover up an entirely new religion.”

Dr. Carter shook her head in disbelief. “And I thought Bright was bad. Those kids are walking containment breaches.”

“Yeah,” Dr. Patel said, laughing, “but at least Adam keeps them in line. Mostly.”

The room fell into a thoughtful silence before Dr. Tannen muttered, “I’m putting ‘don’t babysit for Adam’ on my list of things not to do.”

[abigailkendallwrites]

WINGLEADER: A Xaden Riorson POV Fanfiction

CHAPTER 5

At this point, I’m completely exhausted, and the small writing surface attached to my desk looks exceedingly comfortable right now.

“Welcome to your first Battle Brief,” Professor Devera says, turning slowly to examine the entire room.

“In the past, riders have seldom been called into service before graduation, and if they were, they were always third-years who’d spent time shadowing forward wings,”

I can feel Garrick begin to shake with suppressed laughter in the seat next to me.

I reach out with my leg and kick his foot, which only makes him shake harder.

Fighting down the smile that’s trying to make its way to my lips, I remember our own shadowing last year. It was rare that second-year riders got to go, and we single handedly assured they never would again.

We aren’t typically trouble makers, and it wasn’t really our intent to do anything stupid, it just sort of…happened.

It was a near disaster, and ended with a two hour scolding from both Panchek, and our dragons.

I suppress a jolt of surprise as Sgaeyl barges into my mind, unannounced, “An absolutely shameful display from the two of you.”

“Oh? I don't recall you or Cliadh doing anything to stop it.”

“There is little we could do to prevent you both jumping from our backs in order to,” Sgaeyl pauses, “do what, I’m not sure.” she finishes irritably.

“I didn’t–” I start before she snaps, “Pay attention my little wingleader”

My eyes flick up, and from Garrick’s suddenly still posture, I can tell Cliadh has probably said something to the same effect.

It’s so quiet I can hear each of Professor Markham’s footfalls as he makes his way to the center of the room.

Professor Devera leans in to say something to the scribe, and my shadows are already there, pooling from the gaps in between seats.

“Ms. Sorrengail is present today, to the left of the podium, third row.”

So, right in front of me somewhere.

I shouldn’t care so much, but I do.

I scan the room, spotting her quickly. Her hair is in a long plait down her back and I again feel the urge to yank her by the end of it just to prove a point.

She’s already so weak in so many areas, why give anyone an advantage while sparring?

“First topic of the day,” Professor Devera says, highlighting Braevick on the map.

Fuck.

Garrick must be thinking the same thing because I can hear his breath catch.

Professor Devera continues, “The Eastern Wing experienced an attack last night near the village of Chakir by a drift of Braevi gryphons and riders.”

Not quite, but sure, that’s what happened. I wasn’t expecting the situation last night to go the way that it did.

It was supposed to be a regular supply drop, a small group, a quick in-and-out job. The fliers had been too far from our regular drop off in Athebyne, making Braevick Province the closest spot. Unfortunately for us, the fliers caught wind of Venin in the area. Even more unfortunate, they didn’t have time to warn us before we arrived.

Our one and only ally in the Eastern Wing was able to get word from us about what was happening, but Chakir still lost thirty-seven innocent people, and the Wing lost two riders.

And now it looks as though the higher ups have twisted the story, scrubbing the Venin from the brief altogether.

Professor Devera continues, “Naturally some information is redacted for security purposes, but what we can tell you is that the wards faltered along the top of the Esben Mountain. Allowing the drift not only to enter Navarrian territory but for their riders to channel and wield sometime around midnight.”

Well that part is true at least.

They were wielding magic, but the reasons were far from sinister.

“Thirty-seven civilians were killed in the attack in the hour before a squad from the Eastern Wing could arrive, but the riders and dragons managed to repel the drift. Based on that information, what questions would you ask? I only want answers from first-years to start.”

My eyes skate past the rest of the class to land on the back of Violet's shimmering silver head.

It’s silent for a handful of seconds before Professor Devera starts speaking again, no doubt attempting to rouse the first years into answering.

My gaze still on Violet, the class starts their string of obvious questions that you’d ask in a Battle Brief setting.

“Is this the first time the wards have faltered?”

Professor Devera says one word, “No.”

More follow up questions.

“How many casualties did the wing suffer?”

The usual bickering.

Violet leans in and whispers to her friend Rihannon.

Rhiannon sits up and asks, “What altitude is the village at?”

If it were anyone else, I’d assume they were playing a game, making a fool out of their peers. I don’t think that’s Violet’s angle though.

“Markham?” Professor Devera asks the scribe.

“A little less than ten thousand feet,” he answers.

“Why?”

There’s a beat of silence before Rhiannon catches on, “Just seems a little high for a planned attack with gryphons.”

Devera has an irritated look on her face.

“It is a little high for a planned attack. Why don’t you tell me why that’s bothersome, Cadet Sorrengail?” I can see Violet squirm in her seat, and I have to suppress a smile. It’s cute seeing her so ruffled.

Nope. No. Not happening. I’ve made her hate me and fear me. There’s no reality where anything regarding Violet could happen.

“And maybe you’d like to ask your own questions from here on out,” she continues.

My eyebrows raise, wondering how she’ll respond, as the class collectively turns to look straight at her.

“Gryphons aren’t as strong at that altitude, and neither is their ability to channel,” She says.“It’s an illogical place for them to attack unless they knew the wards would fall, especially since the village looks to be about what?” She pauses briefly. I can practically hear the gears turning, “An hour's flight from the nearest outpost.” She turns to the map, “That is Chakir right there isn’t it?”

As if she needed the map at all.

I don’t want to think about the feeling that’s made its way from my stomach up into my throat listening to her address Professor Devera with so much confidence.

And is that a little bit of smugness I hear in her voice?

She’s smart and she knows it.

I swallow loudly and Garrick looks over at me with a bemused expression on his face.

“I believe you humans call them butterflies.”

I swear she does this on purpose.

“Do you enjoy taunting me Sgaeyl?”

She chuffs but doesn’t bother to answer.

If I’ve got butterflies, not only is that horrifying, it’s absolutely unacceptable.

What is this woman doing to me?

There’s another round of questions from the second and third-years. All the same obvious questions that get them no closer to the root of the “attack”.

Time to remind everyone that I am much, much smarter than the rest of the people in this room.

“What was the condition of the village?” I say.

Markham, Malek help him, squints up at where I’m sitting.

“Riorson?”

“The village.” I say, keeping my tone respectful despite my annoyance at this lying game I’m playing. “Professor Devera said the damage would have been worse, but what was the actual condition? Was it burned? Destroyed? They wouldn’t demolish it if they were trying to establish a foothold, so the condition of the village matters when trying to determine a motive for the attack.”

There’s a good chance that Devera knows more about the Venin’s motives, and this is a perfect excuse to see if she’ll let something slip.

Professor Devera smiles, “The buildings they’d already gone through were burned, and the rest were being looted when the wing arrived.”

There it is.

“They were looking for something. And it wasn’t riches. That’s not a gem mining district. Which begs the question, what do we have that they want so badly?”

She has to know something. Anything about what the Venin have been decimating whole villages in search of.

Devera looks around the classroom, “Exactly. That’s the question. And that right there is why Riorson is a wingleader. You need more than strength and courage to be a good rider.”

I can see Dain’s shoulders stiffen a few rows below me.

Someone’s feeling insecure.

Professor Devera shrugs slightly, “We don’t know, just another piece in the puzzle of why our constant bids for peace are rejected by the kingdom of Poromiel.”

It takes a heroic effort not to roll my eyes. Bull. Shit.

“What were they looking for? Why that village? Were they responsible for the collapse of the ward, or was it already faltering? Tomorrow, next week, next month, there will be another attack, and maybe we’ll get another clue. Go to history if you’re looking for answers–”

I drown her out for the rest of the session.