#pdh garroth x reader

[starhvney]

𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑: 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: blaze, garroth, gene, laurance

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: your friend group has a certain game they like to play at your co-ed sleepovers–one that was exhilarating and full of tension. naturally, what’s a girl to do but use her wits and charm to win over the heart of the boy she’s playing with? and what if he’s the one pulling the strings all along?

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: teens being teens, fluff and flirtyness, kissing and cooties! it’s implied that they’re dating the reader or at least have mutual crushes

𝐂𝐖: use of fake knives and nerf guns lol

𝐀/𝐍: erm..umm…hehe? bites lip

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐙𝐄

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞: 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐫. 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧��.

“hey blaze, wanna go see something cool?” you ask suddenly, tilting your head and batting your eyelashes up at the tall werewolf.

he purses his lips, black ears twitching against his dark red curls. a suspicious hum leaves his lips for a moment as the rest of the group warily watches on.

“okay!” he goofily smiles, shrugging and following after you towards the house’s basement door.

“blaze… don’t fall for it.”

“but she’s such a trustworthy person!” he protests against the group’s warnings, beginning to follow you down the dim staircase.

you hold back a snort at his enthusiastic voice, wondering if he was playing up on his usual airheaded tendencies or if he really thought you weren’t going to kill him off from the game down here.

“the basement, definitely super romantic and cool and not suspicious at all!”

he definitely knew. you giggle as you make it to the end of the staircase, standing at the bottom as you awkwardly try to think of what you want to “show him” besides the plastic knife in your pocket.

“your laugh is usually cute, but when it’s so mischievous and in a dark basement it’s kind of creepy,” he shivers, backing up towards the stairs again. “actually… i just remembered i need to do something!”

“wait! you said i’m cute, right?” you snatch onto his flannel, dragging him back towards you—or rather dragging yourself towards his much heavier and unmoving body.

“yeah…”

“um… wanna… make out?”

“yeah!” he switches back to his himbo cheerfulness, very eagerly leaning down and pressing his lips against yours.

you indulge him for a moment, before your puckered lips spread into an evil smile and you’re pressing the plastic knife into his abs. a disappointed sigh leaves his lips as he dramatically sinks down to the floor to play dead.

“not cool, you’re gonna leave me in the spooky basement?” he pouts, his fluffy tail laying flat on the ground.

“you’ll be fine,” you giggle, pressing one last kiss to his forehead and happily skipping up the stairs to finish the round. “see you later!”

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞: 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬. 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐞!

“where is everyone…?” you trail, feeling uneasy as you look for all of the friends you were separated from. 

your search is interrupted when you hear footsteps rapidly approaching you across the grass of the backyard. 

despite knowing this was a silly game with friends, turning to see a six foot three beast of a werewolf sprinting at you with a plastic knife in hand was still a terrifying visual. you couldn’t help the terrified yelp that left your lips as you sprinted away from him, knowing your efforts were futile.

you’re caught up to within barely a few seconds, strong arms nearly crushing you as he scoops you up. a squeal leaves your lips as you cling onto his shirt, feeling your feet leave the ground.

“wait! wait!” you screech, heart racing as you catch your breath.

“nuh-uh,” he laughs.

you groan when you feel the knife firmly placed against your back, limply dangling in blaze’s arms.

“caught you.”

𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞: 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐫. 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞.

your arms boldly slink around garroth’s shoulders as you lean onto him from behind where he sat, your face snuggling up to the side of his cheek.

automatically he tenses up, eyelids narrowing as his vision darts over to you from the side of his eye. he mutters your name suspiciously, but one of his hands comes up to softly grab onto one of your arms.

“hey, garroth,” you whisper into his ear, holding back the amused giggle that fights to escape your lips. “i was just wishing a tall, hot blonde guy would go into the closet to make out with me…”

garroth sighs, his ears turning a bright red where your breath ghosted along the skin.

“you said that last time, and i died.”

you can tell he’s trying to make his voice monotonous and unimpressed, but the amused intonation at the end of his sentence tells another story. your chest presses against his back, and the breathy, mischievous laughter that exhales from your lungs shakes the both of you.

“no, i’m for real this time!”

“oh yeah, that sounds perfect,” he sarcastically quips back. “i’ll go with the girl trying to seduce me into the closet with no witnesses.”

“garroth… would i ever betray you in such a way?”

“you just did a couple rounds ago.”

“yeahhh,” you drawl out, placing a kiss on his cheek as you quickly place the knife over his heart and press down. “sorry.”

he sighs, slumping forward on the table to play dead.

“so cruel and heartless,” he jokingly pouts, and you have to restrain yourself from placing another kiss on his jutted lower lip.

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞: 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬. 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 ����𝐢𝐞!

“garroth, i’m sorry. why don’t we hug it out?” you suggest, arms spread wide as you look up at the blonde expectantly.

he rolls his eyes, leaning down and tightly wrapping his arms around you. after a moment you pay his back, expecting to be let go, but realization hits you as it’s his turn to giggle at you. 

the light rumbling of his laughter vibrates against you, before you feel the plastic knife pressing right up against the small of your back.

you groan, going limp in his arms and leaning your head back as you sigh in light hearted annoyance.

“wowwww, okay.”

he continues to laugh, leaning over and letting you slink down to the floor before gently letting you rest on the ground.

“sorry,” he smiles, looking the least bit sorry before leaning down and placing a kiss against your lips.

“i’m so gonna haunt you.”

“i wouldn’t mind a pretty ghost following me around,” he smiles back, before getting back up and running off to finish his job.

𝐆𝐄𝐍��

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞: 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐫. 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞.

“gene, wanna go make out?” you casually ask, smiling at the older boy cheekily and attempting to ignore the attractive look he stares back at you with.

his head falls back and he rolls his eyes, smirk plastered on his lips as he sighs in contemplation from where he sat.

“see, how am i supposed to refuse when you ask like that, though?”

“like what?” you tilt your head innocently, lacing your hands behind your back.

he pointedly stares at you through hooded eyes, before stretching up from his seat and shoving his hands in his pockets.

“alright, where are we going to make out?”

you shrug and guide him out of the house, passing a few people as you go.

“where are you two going?”

“to make out, apparently.”

“don’t tell me you’re falling for that.”

“it’ll be fine,” gene drawls, waving his hand as the two of you exit the house. “i have a feeling on how this is gonna end, but i’ll take my chances.”

“well, whoever’s the cop—be ready when she comes back alone,” you hear someone say as the door shuts behind you. 

you only take a few steps before turning around, pointing the knife at him with a small innocent smile on your face.

“damn, not even gonna give me a small chance at a kiss before you kill me?”

“so sorry,” you apologize emptily, the cheeky smile on your lips leaving when he leans forward into the knife, grabbing your face and devouring your lips for a moment with his own.

you blink at him in shock as he pretends to cough in pain, keeping forward into the ground and rolling onto his back to play dead.

“it’s alright, you will be later,” he smirks back, laying flat on the ground and staring up at the stars.

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞: 𝐜𝐨𝐩. 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞!

finally! you found where your friends had been all round… only to see that they were all sprawled out on the floor, motionless. you take a cautious step into the room, slowly turning your head to the tall form standing in your peripheral.

you hear a few snickers from the ground as you and gene stare at each other, with your hands on your hips.

“well, it’s just us, huh?”

“yep.”

you don’t have enough time or a chance to pull out the gun, instead having to run away down the hall and through the back doors as he suddenly sprints after you.

“nooo! nonono, gene!” you call out, fumbling for the gun in your pocket as you run through the grass.

“why are you running?” he asks, the amused smile on his lips heard through his voice without even having to glance back. “don’t run from me.”

you point the gun back, shooting and missing the boy entirely, wasting your last bullet. one more stride and he catches up to you, knocking the gun out of your hand and restraining you against him with one arm in a single swoop. 

“wait! don’t!” you frantically scramble as he presses the knife up against your chest. “i will… um!”

“mhmmm…” he tauntingly hums, letting you continue.

“…go out? …with you?”

you whine as he presses the knife down against your chest, slumping over as he hunches over and slowly lets you down to the ground. deep laughter leaves his lips as he looks down at your pout, hands on his knees in amusement. 

“sorry, that’s not a good deal if you already do that, doll.”

𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞: 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐫. 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞.

“laurance, follow me,” you tug on his shirt, backing up as you try to lure him out of the room.

“i’m not falling for that, silly girl,” he leans down towards you, smirk plastered on his face. “where’s everyone else you walked off with, then. hm?”

“falling for what?” you follow him as he starts backing away from you and towards the door. “i just love you so much. i wanna show you!”

“uh-huh, right,” he nods, before turning and taking off outside into the cool night air.

“laurance! wait, let me show you!” you laugh hysterically. “i wanna show you how much i love you!”

“get away!” he laughs, using his soccer skills to dodge and run away from you in the grass.

you manage to catch him, jumping onto his back and using the momentum to tackle the both of you down to the soft grass. your legs straddle his torso as you both catch your breath, chests panting for air.

“now it’s just us…” you trail, dragging your index finger across his lower lip. 

you pull on it before leaning down and pressing a kiss to his lips, simultaneously plunging the fake knife against his chest.

“that was both terrifying and hot at the same time,” he breathes with a smug grin.

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞: 𝐜𝐨𝐩. 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞!

“come on, you don’t trust me?” laurance tilts his head, pouting as you indecisively point your gun back and forth between him and katelyn—the rest of your friends laid out on the ground. “ouch, that hurts.”

katelyn stares at you with a deadpan expression. her and laurance have their arms raised in the air in surrender, leaving you as the one to make the game-settling decision.

“um…”

“don’t let him woo you, you’re better than this—“

“she went off with aphmau alone and now aphmau is dead!” laurance insists, leaning forward towards you. “it’s obviously her, be smart. you’re smart.”

“um… i’m sorry katelyn!” you apologize, sending a bullet out toward katelyn’s stomach.

she laughs with a groan as she sinks to the ground. you come to the realization that you, in fact, made the wrong decision when nobody else gets up, leaving you and laurance at a standstill.

“…i’m out of bullets.”

“you better run…” someone mutters with a snort on the ground.

strings of shouts and scared curses leave your lips as you take off down the hallway, searching for any bullets to use now that you’ve cornered yourself at one end of the house.

“oh no!” you yelp, socks sliding as you land against a wall, laurance’s hands trapping you in before you can scramble anywhere else.

“hey,” he jokingly bites his lip, staring at you with faux seduction.

you sigh dramatically. “just kill me.”

he giggles, stabbing you with the knife before placing a kiss against your cheek.

“hey, it’s not your fault my charm works so well—“

“shut up.”

©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own.

[miniaturecollectiveendermen]

hihi! hope you’re doing well :)

i was wondering if you could write headcannons for phoenix drop high Gene, Garroth & Blaze with a popular reader? like reader is well known in phoenix drop high, super energetic, kind and captain/leader of a big sports team/club? maybe just general headcannons (including how the two get together?)

tysm <33

A/N: i had a lot of fun writing this!! im sorry it took a while, i was sick when the request was sent and got sick again in the middle of writing im good now - for the most part at least

i hope you enjoy read this! :3

!! WARNINGS !! i feel like PDH!gene needs a warning of his own, gn!reader, you/your pronouns used

Gene: 

You were the volleyball club president, the cheery type who had a knack for making friends.

Gene is in no way fond of the popular types; so then why did you catch his attention? 

Why does his heartbeat pick up when he sees you smile, when he hears your laugh?

Gene is a selfish person, he takes what he wants - and in this case he wants you.

He considered trying to find something to blackmail you with, and get you to join the shadowknights.

But you always had people around you, and everyone knew what he was like, so there was no way they'd let him pull you away for a private conversation. 

But he found himself with the perfect opportunity one day after school. 

Your teammates had other obligations they needed to attend to; this left you to put away the equipment. 

He dismissed Sasha and Zenix (mainly Zenix as he had a tendency to speak without thinking). 

He approached you, and offered to help clean up. 

It was almost unnerving how nice he was being - you may have been a friendly person but you weren't stupid. you knew he was planning something.

You chose to be nice to him, but you kept your guard up. 

Time passes and you guys finish cleaning up, you say goodbye to Gene, and leave. 

Only after you leave does he realize he didn't even bring up you joining the shadow-knights. 

He just spent time with you, talking and hanging out like you were old friends. 

This is the first thing that made him question his plan.

PDH gene is by no means a good person - but even he has some morals. 

After this you would say hello to him in passing and make small talk - again acting like you two had been friends for years. 

You were just too sweet, and it chipped away at him. 

Eventually he completely forgot about forcing you to join the shadowknights. 

Although you weren't a shadowknight, you were friends. 

And not just with him, you were nice to Sasha and Zenix too. 

Sasha had gotten rather attached to you, and although Zenix would rather die than admit it - he quite liked having you around. 

Of course other people questioned why someone as sweet as you would be friends with them. Were you being forced?

you would always respond with “they're actually really nice” - Which no one believed of course.

But Gene quickly shut down all the questions, and no one really wanted to get on his bad side; so they stopped asking you about it.

Your relationship with Gene slowly changed, you two never acknowledged it.

but you both knew you weren't just “friends” anymore. 

Gene isn't the type to be explicitly romantic or loud with his affections - he's more subtle about it. 

He asked you out in a very casual way - you two were hanging out at his house. 

You were scrolling on your phone absentmindedly while he was playing a game, when he suddenly asked:

“Do you wanna go to the coffee shop this weekend?” “Sure!” “It's a date then.” 

No beating around the bush with this man. 

It's an interesting dynamic between you two - but he wouldn't have it any other way. 

Garroth: 

Garroth is a naturally charismatic and sociable person.

This, along with him being the baseball team captain, meant it was only natural for Garroth to be well acquainted with other sports captains. 

You were the track and field team captain. 

Much like Garroth you were charming and peppy, and had a tendency to naturally draw people to you. 

On the first day of the new school year, you were tending to the track and field club’s stand. 

Some other club leaders asked for your help; because of this a handful of nearby freshmen got the impression that you were helping with everything, and not just your own stand. 

You were happy to help, but you didn't anticipate being suddenly surrounded by a large group of over-excited freshmen who kept talking over each other.

You tried to help them all, but it was getting overwhelming.

As if he could hear your thoughts, Garroth redirected the freshmen to the mentors - he also offered to help out with the track and field stand. 

He wasn't very busy with the other members tending to the baseball stand.

You gladly accepted his help - although you and Garroth were friendly before this, you weren't very close.

After this day your friendship blossomed; the two of you would often spend free time together and even help each other with team captain responsibilities.

If either of you had a match, the other would be sure to come and cheer. 

With the two of you being as popular as you were, it was only inevitable for rumors to start about you two dating.

Garroth brushed it off and acted as though he wasn't affected by the silly rumors - but that wasn't really the case.

Truthfully he had been harboring feelings for you for some time, and these rumors gave him a chance to see how you'd react to the idea of you two dating. 

He did sometimes flirt with you, but played it off as a joke causing you to respond with joking flirtation of your own (was it really a joke tho). 

When you didn't seem opposed to the idea, his heart jumped out of his chest.

He took the first chance he got and asked you out. 

He's so cute guys I love him.

Blaze: 

You had been the tennis team captain for over a year - your popularity grew along with the tennis club as you led the team to win many matches.

had been receiving complaints by team members about a group of werewolves that kept stealing tennis balls in the middle of matches.

A few lost balls wouldn't be much of a problem, but they kept doing this until the players had none left.

You knew if you went to the werewolves responsible yourself the chances of them listening to you were little.

So you opted to go directly to the principal - so far she seemed a lot more competent than the previous principal, so you had hoped she'd be able to help you.

But these hopes were quickly diminished when she said she couldn't intervene as it was a “werewolf issue”.

You argued it was affecting the tennis club members who were human and meif'wa as well.

But she made some vague excuse about having a meeting and told you to talk to the werewolf studies teacher about it. 

After having any and all hope in the new principal destroyed, you went off to find the werewolf studies teacher.

When you explained the situation to him he informed you that this was the responsibility of the “alpha” and he couldn't do much.

By this point you were getting very frustrated - you had to run all over the school to find someone to help, only for them to tell you that they couldn't do anything. 

To your relief you were informed that the werewolf alpha was Aphmau (you decided to not ask why a human was the werewolf alpha). 

You weren't super close with Aphmau, but you met her once when you and Katelyn were playing tennis - you’d had some friendly interactions since and you had hoped that she wouldn't dismiss you like the last two people.

You managed to find her as she was talking to a red haired werewolf - you had seen him around a few times. His name was Blaze if you remembered correctly.

She was friendly as usual when you approached her, but you noticed she seemed more tired and even a bit frazzled.

You explained the situation to her and she was very understanding, but you could see that just thinking about handling this made her look even more tired.

That's when Blaze interrupted and said he was happy to help, as aphmau had to focus on choosing an alpha male - whatever that means.

You were ecstatic, after all that running around you finally found someone who could help.

Blaze was very sweet- and although he was a tad clueless when it came to certain things, he certainly had the spirit.

You helped Blaze find the responsible werewolves and at first he was explaining to them that they shouldn't steal things that don't belong to them. 

However after they were not very receptive to this, he took a more,, “hands on” approach.

You knew after going to this school for some time that werewolves would often solve conflict by fighting.

But you didn't expect blaze to throw the werewolves out the nearest window and then jump out after them??? 

You just wanted your team members to be able to practice in peace.. How did this happen-?

By the time that you reached downstairs where they were, the group of werewolves were standing in front of Blaze, looking down silently.

Blaze was grinning and looked very proud of himself - he seemed to be waiting for you to tell him he did a good job.

You didn't expect a 6’3 werewolf to be so.. Cute? 

You thanked him for his help and told him he was welcome to play with the tennis team whenever he pleased.

In the following weeks your friendship grew - he would join your practice in his free time. 

Although when he did it was mostly him chasing after the ball and forgetting he's supposed to hit it with the racket. 

As you grew closer, Blaze started noticing that his feelings towards you were changing. 

He always thought you were rather cute but he didnt think too deeply about it. 

But his desire to be around you grew.

subtlety isn't Blaze’s strong suit - the second he realizes he has a crush on someone, he starts following them around everywhere and his affection grows tenfold. 

He's a naturally affectionate person towards his loved ones, but you noticed that it's different with you. 

One day you decide to ask him about it and he just looks at you and just flat out confesses.

He was under the impression that he was being quite obvious. 

He's so <3333

I love him 

Immensely

[pdpenpals]

omg wait i had the biggest crush on garroth growing up, could you write something for pdh garroth? I don't want to steal the confession idea from the other anon but the idea of garroth giving a letter after going 'oh wow I'm late for baseball practice haha! come see me after you read that!--' is so cute

OMG

YOU WANNA KNOW WHAT THIS REMINDS ME OF

THIS VIDEO FOR SOME REASON

also did you know i actually rewrote my own science notes digitally from last year for this request’s header

lol, hope you like it, nonnie! this one's built a little different for the sake of the #narrative.

sir raymond (he insists you use his nickname) always has an unhinged tale or two from his youth (he’s still in his mid-20s) up his sleeve, but the class doesn’t mind it with how he always manages to link it back to earth science, your last class of the week (well, before club period). he graduated from the university bordering phoenix drop, and he’s currently reminiscing about how he and his mates used to cling to its outer gates and hover above the sidewalk on the way there to avoid getting their clothes soaked by the flood whenever it rained (even just a little bit). it hasn’t improved for that area in ru’aun, but it’s always been like that. he should be getting back on topic in 3…2…

your train of thought is interrupted by garroth getting up from the table next to you when a senior pops by the classroom window and makes some motion that only the two of them understand. the class is used to it by now, so he’s able to quietly excuse himself and leave early for varsity duties. before you know it, his figure disappears down the hallway, basking in the afternoon sun. you’re about to chase after him to return the notebook he’s just left behind, but your name written slightly bigger than usual catches your eye.

you almost get caught zoning out when turning a page of his notebook reveals something you’re sure you’re not supposed to see. your cheeks heat up and your heart starts racing.

I’m pretending to be taking down notes, but really, I’m just writing this. Don’t get mad?

Anyway, so so sorry I can’t stick around again this period! Would it be alright to take a look at your notes during lunch period after intrams? I should be able to free up my schedule around that time now that the team doesn’t need me around when there’s no practice. The guilt is seriously eating me alive by relying on you more than I should for Earth Sci, can you not decline the next time I offer to make it up to you?

Speaking of, you should head over to the gym after club. I think the rest of the varsity teams need another pair of eyes to get them to work faster, and so we can finish event prep early. Your friends should be there too, I think? Still, I’d be happy to show you around myself! I can help you fend off anyone if they decide to annoy you.

Irene help me, I feel Sir’s stare on me right now. I’m definitely next to be called on for a question. But thanks to the Divine (I hope so), I can hear my team captain about to round the corner of the hallway outside and call me out for practice and intrams. Hope you don’t get called in my stead. Seriously. Now that’d be another thing to apologize for.

Getting off track now. Anyway! Really hope you’ll drop by later. Your company’s always welcome and such a delight to ha

Today’s To-Do:

🗹 Intrams, Log Committee

☐ ████ Application

🗹 Lunch @ Courtyard

☐ Look up ██████ & ██. ████

☐ Just confess already (keep it casual, it’s not that hard! — L.) (later after club then?)

[dilly-dahlia]

okay guys, hear me out

if any of y’all have read The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid, imagine basically that but with Aphmau

like a similar concept. how do we feel about that

[sillyteenagegirlinlovewithblocks]

I wnat gene, Laurence and garroth. One at a time and then all together.

[izzybella1807]

Phoenix Drop High: Shattered Reflections | The Graceverse

Blurb

Grace Brosna is starting High school along with her younger brother Dante and their two friends; Garroth and Laurance. From having an abusive father, to depression, Grace's life was a misery, at least, it started off that way. In this story, you will follow the adventures of Grace, her younger brother Dante, and two best friends, Garroth and Laurance. Will Grace's life always be a misery or will it eventually get better?

Coming Soon!

[garcargofarfar]

Valentine's Cards

PDH boys x Gn!Reader

Aaron x Reader, Garroth x Reader, Laurance x Reader, Ein x Reader, Zane x Reader, Blaze x Reader, Gene x Reader, Kai x Reader, Dante x Reader, Travis x Reader

Hey,

Happy Valentine's Day. I've been meaning to ask you.. if you'd like to be my Valentine? We could go watch a movie or something, whatever you'd like.

Of course, you could always decline. I just hope you know you're amazing. Thank you for being there for me at my lowest point. It's my turn to be there with you on a special day like this.

Lots of love,

Aaron♡

Dear (Y/n),

Happy Valentine's Day♡ On such a special day, I'd love to be spending it with you if you'll allow me. We could do whatever you'd like, just you and me.

I hope you like the flowers I got you. I'd be delighted to have you join me after school today to celebrate such a special occasion. I'll come pick you up from your last class. Take care, xxx.

•3•~♡

Yours truly,

Garroth Ro'Meave

(Y/n) (L/n),

Hey there. Happy Valentine's Day, be my Valentine? Thank you for being my friend, (Y/n). Thank you for seeing me for who I am. I'd like to return the favor by taking you out, if you'll let me.

What do you say? Want to join me and make me the happiest Laurance on Earth? ;)

Signed with love,

𝐿𝒶𝓊𝓇𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒵.

☆(Y/n)☆

Be my Valentine? I know I'm just a boring werewolf, but I really like you. ☆ And.. I'd love to spend more time to get to know you. You're beautiful and sweet and kind and loving and ☆ caring and amazing and I'd be so happy to have you celebrate this year's Valentine's Day with me. ☆

☆ If you'd like, we could take things slowly. I don't mind. I just hope to be with you today.☆

Sincerely,

Ein <3

Hey. You.

Happy Valentine's Day. Do you want to hang out together today? Not as a date or anything, just.. casual hanging out. Yeah.

As part of the Shadow Nights, I promise to give you the best time of your life.

So if you'd like we could go do some cool stuff together. Like skateboarding or spraypainting some walls or something. Just cool stuff. But we'll be doing it together.

-Zane

(Y/n),

Hey, pup♡ Happy Valentine's Day. D'you wanna be my Valentine? Even though werewolves can't have chocolate, we could still go have a romantic meal together, if you're up for it?

I'd love to spend today with you if you'd let me. Take a little break off of the pack, and it's shenanigans. You get me?

Hope to see you after school♡

~The guys name that shines brighter than the sun (aka Blaze)

Hey cutie~

You're cute, y'know that? I'd love to have you as my Valentine this year. We don't have to do anything too crazy if you don't want to. I just want to be with you.

How about I take you shopping today? I know you're not a big fan of skipping classes so I'll come over to your classroom and get you, yeah? Can't wait to see you, cutie~

Leader of the Shadow Knights,

Gene

Hi lunch buddy,

I know we've only ever talked during lunch mostly, but you're really awesome and I'd like to get to know you more. Would you consider being my Valentine?

You can find me today during lunch, and I'll take that as a yes. I made your favourite~

Kai ฅ^._.^ฅ

Hey baby~

We all know I'm the hottest in the school. Would you like to be my Valentine? I'd be honored to have such a hot person like you be mine.

Consider it for a while, babe, and text me when you have your answer~ muah~

-Hot stuff, Dante

(Y/n),

I know I'm usually flirting with every girl in the school, but I want you to know I'm not actually all that.

You've helped me realised that there's more to me than what Dante depicts me as, and for that I thank you. Would you like to be my Valentine? Or we could take things slowly and be friends. I don't mind.

But happy Valentine's Day regardless to the prettiest person I know.

Travis :D

- × - × - × - × - × - × - × -

MY INNDER DEMONS VER

[fangirl-in-general]

Hello friends! welcome to the prologue of my Garroth x Reader series. This is my first fic, and I haven't actually written anything in years so please bear with me. I have a vague plan for how I'd like this series to go and if that works out, it will be followed up with PDH, FCU, and Mystreet sequels, just like the actual series (though probably not written in that order cause my attention span would kill me)

There will also be some tragic Gene x Reader featured in this series so be forewarned about that.

Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An MCD Garroth x Reader series

"Legendary" prologue

"You have got to be joking..." The heart wrenching emptiness of the snack bag in your hands was more annoying than problematic, seeing as you were only about twenty minutes from town. The all too familiar urge to reach into the supplies you'd gathered over your journey crept in, but as always, the thought of seeing Garroth's face light up when you brought back the various supplies you found on your journeys was enough to keep your hands on Delphi's reins instead searching through the wagon she was pulling.

Oh, how you missed seeing that dorky helmet and hearing his unsure attempts at cracking jokes everyday... how you missed him, your best friend who always greeted you with a smile you didn't need to see to know was there, who lets you travel around to "help the village with supplies" when you both know that the only useful things you really bring back are food and new contacts (after all who doesn't need a good "I know a guy" friend) but the villagers loved getting to purchase fun new trinkets every time you came back and Garroth knew it kept you from getting too restless, so he gave you his blessing to essentially become the town wander, but you preferred the term "casual diplomatic relations coordinator/goodies gatherer"

Seeing Zenix again was also near and dear to your heart. He could be a major prick, but he was your brother after all...in heart anyway, which was enough for the two of you. You fought more often than not but you both had a soft spot for each other and were the closest thing to family that you both had.

Of course, your friendships with the other villagers were deeply cherished but it was hard to not have a special bond with the two of them. Garroth has a knack for finding people stranded in the woods, he brought you back to town only a week before finding Zenix who was only a kid at the time, and without any memories of your life before he found you wandering alone, it was easy to grow attached to the first two people who really made a difference in your life.

"Garroth! She's back!!" You perked up and slid off Delphi's back as you saw Zenix approaching

You threw your arms around him and laughed at the embrace that finally meant you were back home. "Brother, I missed you! Are you well? How is everyone?"

Zenix was interrupted by the all too familiar voice of your dearest friend who was always more relived by your safe return every time. "You're safe, welcome back" He took Delphi's reins from your hands and began to lead the small group back to town as you clamored on about your journey and why it took so much longer this time, how many people you met, how much you missed home, on and on and on.

Rolling his eyes was Zenix's only facial expression but his inability to stop asking questions was enough to keep you rattling on until all the villagers came and went with their fair share of useless trinkets and food for the week. When they were all done and gone Zenix left with the last two bags of supplies to take back for the guards. Garroth who had been silent the entire time, took hold of the empty cart and followed you back to the stable by your house with Delphi.

"I'm glad you're back, I almost sent raven out to look for you" you chuckle lightly at his concern and pray the torches aren't bright enough to show the blush that creeps onto your face.

"It was only a day long delay, Garroth" he sets down the wagon and turns away a bit, but his face remains pointed towards you as you tilt your head looking for a response.

Fully turning back to you he begins to inspect the details on his gloves, a painfully obvious que that he's flustered himself again. "I'm aware, it's just...it's dangerous out there, and you know we're vulnerable right now without a lord. I just don't want to see you get hurt."

Garroth is a caring person, you know this firsthand, but even still his heart and kindness manage to melt you every single time you speak to him. It's like he was born to be a beacon of hope, and his protectiveness is bound so deeply in his nature you can't help but want to protect him for a change. You don't know every detail of his past, but given yours is not available to you, it's a privilege he was willing to share with you all he did.

You didn't realize you were placing your hand on his arm until his head snapped up to meet your gaze, the slight glimpse of blue through his helm was enough to make you lose your train of thought for a moment. Though he didn't pull away, the feeling of his muscles tensing in your hold was enough for you to bring your hand back to you. "Thank you, Garroth. For always caring so much...for everyone."

A slight chuckle echoed from his mouth; you almost missed it. "You do not need to thank me for doing my job"

The grin that crept onto your face was almost involuntary, but moments like this were important to you. Making sure people knew the difference they could make, the good they would do was important to you, even though you knew Garroth would never fully believe you.

"It's not just your job Garroth, it's you. We both know that. You've changed so many lives and you keep so many people safe, it may not always work out but that's not nothing. Don't ever forget that, please"

Your heart fluttered at the all too familiar smile you heard in his thanks, how he's managed to keep the sight of it hidden all these years was a mystery to you, but it was none of your business, you only hoped silently that one day he'd trust you enough-

His hand began to flex towards yours and your heart skipped in your chest...before he brought it up to scratch his neck instead. Clearing your throat, you began to turn away from him. "I should really get to bed. Rest up from the long journey"

Garroth nodded. "Of course, I should be going. Long day tomorrow." You took a few steps back and he began to head back down the road before turning for a moment more "It's good to have you back. Goodnight" You smiled back, a little to dazed to truly recall your reply.

Your loving bed was unfortunately not enough to keep your thoughts from drifting back to the man who always seemed to keep them occupied. Looks like you won't not be getting much sleep tonight...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you sooooo much for reading!! I hope you enjoyed cause this is only the beginning! Feel free to request one-shots, drabbles, and head cannons in the meantime

[ironm4n]

wait I already asked for sum but I'm asking again — haha sorry

fem werewolf reader x garroth - my street location but after all the chaos so garroth is a werewolf too

nobody knows reader is a wolf as she got bullied for it when she was young, way before high school and she learned how to hide her ears and tail so she always did and eventually it became about of an afterthought at times although it was a topic she hates thinking abt

reader is Katelyn's best friend as they used to play volleyball together in pdh, garroth and everybody else obviously knows her too but Katelyn was closest with her. She always kept her friend group smaller than most and she was knows to be sweet, although she had an attitude and a sarcastic tone at times, which Katelyn loves most about her. tldr garroth and reader become close but he feels detached from everyone, as if he's keeping them at arms length, due to his trauma. Garroth has a breakdown in public when hanging w everyone (for reasons you can think of sorry Juliet 😭) and idk things happen and reader opens up to make him feel better and smooch they're baes

a/n this is such a fun request i LOVE this !! and tysm for requesting <3 i have a few other requests which I'll definitely get to eventually :)

not proof read !!! sorry, wrote this at half 2am and i really didn't wanna read it through😭

also the pic is from Pinterest:

Garroth Ro'meave x fem!Wolf!Reader.

Love.

A social construct made up by lonely people who find sorrow in their isolation. Yet, no matter how much versatility love had in the eyes and, most importantly, hearts of people, the pain and adrenaline and even the dependancy love can cause is seen as a fundamental process of loving and being "normal". Now, I know this sounds pessimistic and something that a typical single, and way too desperate to mingle, person would say, I adore the idea of love and the feeling it gives us. Sometimes, life feels so meaningless and unnecessary, so the feeling of love and even the hurt or happiness it can often bring can make us as people feel so much less alien.

Now, the reason i'm so fixated on the topic of romance is due to the current predicament i find myself in. In high school, my friend Aphmau fell desperately in love with Aaron Lycan, it was cute. What was even cuter was the fact they stuck it out and are even currently engaged! Sure, we lost a figurative single soldier who ended up being taken but that was fine, it was fun fos us to gossip about and hope we could have what they have. Kawaii— no, Nana got into a relationship with Zane which was... unexpected to say the least, but it was nice to know Zane had opened up to someone other than Aphmau and that Nana finally had something she had always wanted. Katelyn broke up with Jeffory in high school too, she went through a tough time but i knew my best friend was going to be okay, and soon enough she was. However, what was NOT okay was that she ended up in a relationship too! I mean, of course she's an adult and i want the best for her and i truly am happy but wow, now i have the least amount of relatability, even to my best friend, all because Travis finally wooed her. I hadn't expected to be the only one on mystreet that was single.

Well, only single female, that is. There was Dante, who still had yet to manage his own love life but he recently went on a journey of self discovery and trying to be happy with who he is and not feel as though he had to change himself in order to be loved romantically. Kim and Lucinda were also single, although they never showed much interest in getting into a relationship, well not Lucinda at least. Kim seemed like she might just be too awkward to even try. But they didn't matter, i wasn't all that close with them, even though Lucinda and Kim felt closer than Dante due to the events of what had happened at the lodge... yeah, those experiences definitely brought us closer.

There was also Garroth...

Garroth Ro'meave, what a character. He's somebody that is incredibly attractive, objectively of course - i personally don't have feelings for him. He has this gorgeous head of sandy blonde hair, long enough to tie up into a tiny ponytail but still short enough to have tendrils of a mellow gold sticking out at the front. His skin was a pretty tan colour, he went outside alot and although he put on sunscreen, he never really bothered to apply more throughout the day so especially after coming back from holiday, his skin was lovely, sunkissed even. And although i could go on and on about his muscles and peculiar yet endearing fashion sense - I've yet to mention his best feature.

His eyes.

They were Sapphires, beautiful gemstones that shone with such luminosity that only the most expensive crystals could achieve. Although, the colour of his eyes moreso resembled Aquamarines, or perhaps even Blue Agates. His eyes were even more radiant when he smiled or laughed, and oh my god was his smile charming to say the least.

Everything about him was just - wow..

But again, don't get an ill idea, I simply see him as a friend. Maybe even a close friend. After the lodge, we had all gotten closer, especially as the feeling of loneliness often felt deadly at times.. Garroth and I had gotten much closer after the lodge, especially at Starlight as many tensions had eased between everyone and people had finally relaxed. Even now, we hang out much more often as we are some of the only single ones out of our close friends so we just gravitate towards eachother.

Unfortunately, I had grown a bit more distant from Katelyn, my ultimate best friend. After coming back from the lodge, we all spoke of course but there was so much.. uncertainty and lack of trust. It was as if we needed to reevaluate our friendships and see if they were genuine and not just Ein somehow hurting us again. We were broken. And of course the others that were not at the lodge didn't understand the change. Katelyn was never truly in touch with her emotions nor how to handle them, let alone other people's emotions. Of course she had realised there was a slight shift in my behaviour, especially as it wasn't just me. Everybody had noticed Aphmau's depression, and Katelyn was growing more confused. She wasn't able to speak to me as seriously as she wanted to or as deeply as she wanted to, so i managed to undermine how i was feeling each time she had asked. But, we both knew that a lack of much needed communication can cause cracks or gaps in friendships. Although it was obvious she felt guilty for not "getting through to me", I knew i was at fault.

Katelyn hasn't tried asking about the lodge or anything else about the time period of which we all came back from there since. She must realise how much of a sensitive topic it is. And, although I sometimes feel lonely knowing she's out having fun not missing me and instead replacing our hangouts with dates with Travis, I'm happy she's happy and I'm happy i have Garroth now too.

Truth be told, Garroth went through unforgettable things, specifically being turned into a werewolf via excruciating pain and suffering. He doesn't like talking about it, and while his ears and tail are always out, he doesn't like people mentioning them or bringing them to everybody's attention. He wasn't ready for the kinds of conversations he knew he was bound to have with everybody if he allowed them to talk about them or even just acknowledge them.

He just wanted to be Garroth, it seemed. And he was never not Garroth to me. I wish he realised that I of all people would understand.

I, too, am a werewolf - well, a wolf at least, but I've always hidden it. Nobody knows, I always intended to tell everybody but i was so so scared.. I was bullied relentlessly in my younger years for being a wolf.

I never had it easy, I was adopted by humans that didn't know i was a pup right away, so when my ears and tails had been shown after they had already signed the adoption papers, they kept me. They didn't know how to raise a pup so they brought me up like they would a human and unfortunately sent me to a human school.

I went to human schools up until high school, so until i was 14. Needless to say, it was the worst. I got beaten physically and verbally, jumped, stolen from and some people even tried to light my fur on fire, so i forever have had a burn scar on my left ear. Although i seemed brave and string after those experiences, i never got over them. Sure, i moved forward, but i dont think i ever truly moved on. Yes, Garroth and I have different experiences but I so desperately sympathise with him as i understand the pain these transitions can cause, and even just what being a wolf can cause. I want him to let me in, but there's no way in hell I'll force him into that. So for now, my friendship with him is enough.

I care for him deeply, and although i said i didn't have any interest in him, it was a pretty obvious lie.. I don't know if i would say i love him yet as its incredibly early to say such rash things but I definitely like him more than anybody should be able to like someone. But after what he's been through, I doubt romance is even on his mind, let alone me.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

I turned on my side, staring aimlessly out of my window that resided next to my bed. The sky was an endless sea of midnight blue which was littered with glimmering stars.

I sighed.

I checked my phone around 10 minutes ago, so it was currently around 04:48 am if i had remembered correctly. It was getting harder and harder to sleep, and it didnt help that i kept thinking of Garroth.

Helping Garroth. Hanging out with Garroth. Liking Garroth. The beauty of Garroth. Just Garroth.

It was like a fever dream, only thinking of one person in millions of separate scenarios, i sound like an obsessed fan. I cringed, knowing i had to get up at about 11am tomorrow at the latest as I had to be at Aphmau's house by 12. She was having a hangout with everybody on mystreet as she felt like everybody had been so tense after recent events, she was always so sweet and looked out for everyone.

Well, I guess I need to at least try to sleep.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

Yawning, my clenched my fists and rubbed my eyes with them, i looked beside me at my bedside table where my digital alarm clock was.

10:13.

I was kinda proud of myself for getting up at a somewhat reasonable time and getting at least 5 hours of sleep. I had some pretty bad eyebags from having sleepless nights often, but i always hid it with makeup.

I got ready within around an hour and a half leaving around 20 minutes to walk to Aphmau and Aaron's place. I was actually really pleased, i felt nice today. I sprayed myself with my favourite perfume and left my place, grabbing my phone and keys before i left. I saw Zane ans Nana holding hands as they walked into Aphmau's house a few houses down, they were super adorable to be honest.

I walked to her house and hugged Aph as she greeted me. I sat down and glanced around the room, immediately realising i had been the last to arrive. I sat down next to Garroth which was one of the only seats not occupied by a couple. Everybody was chatting loudly in a fun light hearted manner, clearly happy to feel free of any tension towards one another. I turned to Garroth, wondering why he had kept so quiet.

Immediately, I had a good idea of why.

His normally honey toned skin looked pastey and blotchy, his eyes were red and tearful and his hair was unkempt. Had nobody else noticed the support he clearly needed??

"Garroth.."

He turned to me and attempted to give me a sweet smile and whilst he looked pretty like usual, it was disingenuine and full of melancholy.

"Yes, Y/N?"

I just looked at him, and my sympathy must have been misunderstood as pity as he suddenly stood up and spoke, "Don't do that."

"Do what?" I got up too, wanting to be on the same level as him.

"Give me that look o-of pity! Don't pity me, Y/N. I'm strong."

"I know that Garroth I just—"

"Just stop!" He exclaimed and although it wasn't loud enough for many other to hear, thank god, it had left me feeling scared for him. I just wanted him to be okay, dammit.

He left Aphmau's house, i quickly ran to the kitchen to say goodbye to Aphmau. I felt no need to expose Garroth to her so i came up with the classic "family emergency" excuse. Somehow, it worked and she allowed me to leave in my hurried state. Assuming Garroth went to his house, I ran over there as quickly as I could, which wasnt too hard considering I was a wolf, and knocked on the door. Unfortunately, it had been left open anyways so I peered in, seeing Garroth curled up on the couch, his ears drooping.

I walked in quietly and closed the door, although his long distance hearning abilities due to his new werewolf attachments heard me.

"Y/N please, i don't want your pity." I sat down on the floor just below him so i could see him face, although his eyes were looking at anything but myself, "Good thing I'm not here to give you pity, then."

His gaze softened and he spoke in a murmer, "Sorry for raising my voice." Tears were threatening to fall down his face, something he unfortunately looked like he was used to. I held his hands in mine, "Don't apologise. You're allowed to be upset, hell it would be abit odd if you weren't. No matter what ears you have, human or otherwise, or if you have a tail or not, you're always going to be my Garroth. This hasn't changed a thing."

His face tensed as tears cascaded down his cheecks, "You're too sweet to me... but no matter what you say, i know you don't understand. Not as well as you think you do. I'm never going to be the same Garroth i was because nobody will see me the same way. But i cannot handle the looks of pity i get..."

I kissed the backs of his hands, rubbing my thumbs soothingly against them, trying to add some sort of comfort that wasn't too invasive or overwhelming. The last thing i wanted was to drive him away. "Garroth, i understand more than you think i do."

He was still refusing to look at me, closing his eyes as he tried to prevent more tears from spilling. I allowed my ears and tail so show, I don't do it often so it felt foreign and hinestly, it was uncomfortable and way too vulnerable for my liking. But i knew it might help Garroth, and i was willing to take the chance.

"Look at me Garroth."

He didn't reply and instead jjst kept his eyes closed, "I said look at me." I tried to command, although it came out quietly and softly as I didn't want to add fuel to Garroth's fire.

He opened his eyes and — "what is this?"

"I.. am a werewolf. Well, a wolf. I was born one."

He was in a state of shock, "I didn't know.." I laughed uncomfortablely, "Yeah.. nobody does. I was ashamed, i got bullied by humans as a kid so much that my fear was domineering and I never really showed them. Having human parents adopt me didn't help either and they didn't understand me."

Garroth looked at me with a look that finally meant he understood, "You understand me because...you went through the lonliness and shame too." I nodded, "Garroth, I care so much about yoy to the point I can't sleep sometimes because of worry or out of happiness knowing I'll see you the next day or even just staying up thinking about how cute your stupid goofy smile is but—"

He gasped and I had thought i said too much and overstepped a boundary, "You think my smile is stupid and goofy?" He inquired dramatically and for the first time in a while, I laughed wholeheartedly, "Shut up, you know thats not what i meant!" "Well thats what you said!"

I smiled at his as our bickering dulled, "But seriously. I like you Garroth, more than a friend should, and you had me worrying so much but in reality, you're always going to be my Garroth to me, ears and a tail aren't gonna change that. Although they are devilishly cute."

He blushed and I removed my hands from his and wiped the tears off of his face. I kissed his cheek as he stuttered in response and merely kissed mine back. We didn't speak after, because words were not needed, the only thing were needed in that moment was eachother.

[travelerpoetry]

Hi! I would like to request for Aphmau’s PDH but I was wondering if there are request rules or anything? Just wondering what is required/ how to word my request :)).

Hello.

(Please don't leave me.)

I'm so sorry for not seeing your ask earlier.

But there are some general things.

I will not do the following:

Smut (die to the fact that the characters in Phoenix drop high aren't mature and gully developed adults)

Shipping between characters (because this is an xreader blog)

Things I will write:

Oneshots (I'm not very good with angst, but I'll try my best!!)

Headcannons (What they're like in a relationship, ect.)

And any other type!

I'll also write throuples (character x reader x character since YOU have TWO HANDS).

And as for wording here's an example:

I'd like a headcannon of how garroth and reader got together.

So basically, the most important things are=

one: what you want me to write headcannon, oneshot, or multiple with different characters

Two: The character('s). to say what character (or characters) you want the headcannon/oneshot to be about!

Three: What the headcannon/oneshoot is supposed to be about, for example: where did they first meet? What habits do they have in a relationship with you abd other.

Four: Make sure to specify the genre, like is it angst to comfort or fluffy or just angsty!!

That all.

Have a great Day!!!

⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

[thursdaydawn]

Top ten mystreet characters that could beat me to a pulp just by looking at me in disgust.

10. Michi

Miss girl kinda hot to me ngl. She could tell me I’m stupid and I’d frown and feel a little bad but probably get over it after a while.

9. Vylad

I find him pretty chill and he probably wouldn’t say anything to me, but if he called me dumb, or anything like that, I’d be thinking about it for the rest of the day and racking my brain figuring out if it’s true.

8. Garroth

He’s too sweet to say anything bad to me, but I know 100% his PDH self would make me shed a few tears by berating me on how I should be better as a person.

7. Lucinda

She’s literally so hot and I had (still sorta have) a huge crush on her when I was 12. I looked up to her ngl, so hearing her look at me in disgust would make me sad for like 2 days or less- maybe even cry a bit.

6. Kawaii Chan

She’s also really sweet and kind but would definitely berate me. If I were to steal something she baked, would 100% do that btw, she’d call me selfish or greedy and I’d cry myself to sleep and maybe think about it for a week.

5. Laurence

Mans was my first crush, he was literally so hot to me when I was a kid. His PDH and MCD self would make me simp so hard and I wrote like 10 cringe fanfics about him on an old wattpad account that I sadly lost. If he said anything insulting or bad to me I’d cry for days.

4. Ein

I am ashamed to say that I was 100% an Ein simp even after Emerald Secret. :( He was just that mysterious edgy boi that I really liked for some disturbing reason that I regret realizing when I was 13 or 14. He could and would definitely call me an absolute imbecile and a waste of a perfectly good soul that could’ve existed in my place, and I would sob every night for a week.

3. Zane

I always wished I could be his friend because he lowkey seemed cool. I also had a huge crush on him and would sometimes read those x reader fanfics of him. I wanted to give him a big hug during that one arc where he was really jealous of Aaron. He could tell me to never speak to him ever again and I’d absolutely break down.

2. Derek

Reminds me of my dad, that’s all I’ll say. He could simply look at me in disgust or yell at me and I’d absolutely break down.

1. Aaron

I always wished he could be my dad. He seemed so respectful and comforting to me and I would always daydream that he was my friend or dad or even partner ahshhs. If he lectured me on my behaviour or told me I needed to be better or just looked at me like I did something really bad I’d shut down for a week straight, maybe even two.

Okay now time for me to go back to sleep bye :)

[starhvney]

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐌.𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

(𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐨𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐭!)

♡ star's personal favorites, ❀ fan favorites (most liked)

𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟑 | an ongoing reader insert fanfic ♡

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

character face claims

𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒

murder: straight to the heart | ft. blaze, garroth, gene, & laurance

pipsqueak | zenix x short!reader

𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒

slumber party! | aphmau & reader | fluff, platonic

unlikely protector | gene x reader | hurt/comfort, hidden feelings ♡ ❀

good game | katelyn & reader | fluff, slice of life, platonic

perfectionism: to a fault | laurance x reader | fluff, comfort

me? | zenix x reader | fluff, friends to more ♡

© starhvney 2024. do not plagiarize, feed to any AI, or repost my works to any sites.

[newtobts]

Garroth X Reader PDH The New Girl - Chapter 1 (on Wattpad) http://my.w.tt/UiNb/DKzpN49jFE I consider descriptions as spoilers so I'm not gonna write one :P [Plus I'm lazy so lol]

plz read. I’m desperate [jk lol]

[starhvney]

𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟑 | 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑  𝟏𝟕: 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍

𝐂𝐖: ptsd and anxiety, hints to reader being malnourished and scarred, descriptions of reader’s hair being cut into a choppy ass pixie cut

𝐀/𝐍: happiness is on the bleak horizon 

𝐖𝐂: 6,100+

𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐑: the incredible @arienic! she basically coauthored this chapter so incredibly huge shoutout to my amazing friend ^^

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 ☆ 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 | 𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒

Rain patters on the windowpane, the rhythmic tap tap tap of the drops soothing against your ears. You always loved it when it stormed back home. The world always became so quiet when it rained, the pure water washing away the dirt and making the greenery flourish. The rain lilies that would pop up the next day were always so beautiful. You remember studying under your window and…

Wait… window?

Your eyes snap open as your heart begins to speed up uncontrollably, provoking an uncomfortable tightness in your chest. Slowly, you sit up, feeling the firm hospital bed mattress below you. The room you're in is dimly lit, but there’s no blood dried on the sheets, or bars caging you in. No, there's a window on the wall next to you with cards arranged across the sill, and vases filled with flowers alongside them. 

But you aren't safe. You aren't.

Where are you?

When you swallow there’s a horribly unpleasant feeling in your throat, invading your nostrils and restraining your breathing. Reaching up, you feel a plastic tube line that’s been inserted in your nose. With a sense of urgency, you tug on it, the feeling of plastic sliding up your throat making you want to gag. Still, you keep going until you've relieved yourself of the unnatural feeling, then toss it to the side.

“Miss?” A hand lands on your shoulder, clasping against the bone that now forced your skin to stretch over it.

You can’t control the reaction that comes out of you: as pure fear shoots through your veins, so does a scream through your throat; one that tears at your vocal chords and sends you flailing over the edge of the bed. 

“NO! DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME!”

There has to be something you can use to defend yourself—you skitter back on the cold tile, searching the room desperately.

“Code Violet… I repeat, Code Violet—Ma’am, you can’t be in here!”

Water splashes on you as you stumble to your feet, the nearest flower vase clenched tightly in your hands. It reels up behind you as you raise your arm, ready to be thrown. 

“That’s my daughter! Yes I can!”

Your breath immediately catches, a knot twisting in your throat as the familiar voice of your mother echoes against the sterile white walls. It freezes you in your tracks, and through the watery film cast over your eyes, you see her, staring oh-so-desperately at you as a nurse attempts to hold her back.

“…Mommy?”

You’re not sure if your voice comes out loud enough. The childish name had fallen from your lips in a hoarse whisper. But she hears it, and with every ounce of strength she can gather she pushes past the nurse again, plucking the vase right out of your weakened hands and pulling you into her chest.

“It’s okay, baby. You’re safe.” Her words are choked as loud sobs and quick breaths ring loudly in your ears. You're not sure where they're coming from—you can't tell if anyone else is in the room, with your vision so blurry. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. Shhh, my sweet girl. Shh…”

Why is she telling you to be quiet?

Oh.

The loud sobbing was coming from you.

A prick in your arm makes you gasp, and it feels as though a large wave crashes over you, gradually forcing your muscles to relax. Your breaths slow and a pain you didn’t realize had been squeezing your lungs slowly dissipates. 

With your mother’s arms still hosting you dearly against her, you turn sluggishly to see the same nurse from before backing away from the two of you with a wary look in her eye, an empty syringe situated between her gloved fingers.

“Ma’am, could you please return your daughter to the bed? She ripped out her IV line; she needs to finish this drip.”

The nurse is at least gentle with her words, this time, gesturing to the hospital bed as she moves back to the other side of the room, giving you both a respectable amount of space. At least four other staff members are standing in the doorway to your room, you realize, but most importantly your dad was pushing through them, eyes glued to you.

“Okay. Come here, sweetheart.” The arms around you lift you up, and like a child, you let them, legs giving in as you’re placed back onto the mattress.

You feel relieved.

Strong, calloused hands of your father gently pull you to lay back down just as a small wave of dizziness swirls your vision. Even now as you lay down, he squeezes your smaller hands in his, a strange mistiness in his eyes you haven't seen before.

You feel suffocated.

There’s too many people, but whatever the nurse gave you in that syringe keeps you from expressing your panic. Your humiliation. Your fear. Why are those other people still in the doorway? You want them to leave.

Still, they stay, and the nurse from before cautiously approaches your side—squeezing beside your mom as she grabs the IV line. You hadn’t even noticed it in your skin, or registered or getting ripped out in your fall.

You feel confused.

But… your parents are here, and they don’t lean back from the woman in scrubs or scorn her. So… she must be safe, right?

“Miss, I am very sorry for startling you. It was my honest mistake for touching you without consent. I deeply apologize,” she starts, lifting a hand over her heart. “I understand you must be very disoriented and scared, but I assure you I won’t harm you, and you are completely safe here. You’re at the Nahakra Hospital. Today's the third of August, and you’ve been unconscious in our care for two days now. Is it alright if I touch your arm to hook the IV line here?”

Her voice is calm and soothing, and while something about her still has you cautious, there’s a warmth in her words that makes you nod. 

“Thank you, miss. It’ll only take a second.” She nods, blue latex taking gentle hold of your arm. “Now, we’re going to have everyone here—including your parents—leave the room so that you can have a moment to process everything and calm down. Is that alright?”

Slowly, you nod again.

The IV is attached again, and after she turns to the panel and makes adjustments you don’t understand, she and your parents—reluctantly—leave the room. You’re left alone, just the pattering of rain left from the crescendo of chaos.

You’re in Nahakra Hospital.

It’s the third of August.

It’s August? You came back from vacation on… July nineteenth. That’s two weeks.

Everything between Then and Now is so patchy. A damp room. Lights that were much too cold and much too bright. Something… blue. And pain. So much pain.

The more you think about it, the more your head spins, and the more the memories slip just past your fingertips. You remember... You remember something. Something important. Very important. Something you had to tell everyone... But what is it?

A deep breath leaves your lips as you start to look around again, now with the knowledge that you at least weren’t in immediate danger. Your throat is sore, you realize, when you glance at an unopened water bottle on the bedside table. You practically jump at it, cracking open the lid and chugging the liquid life. The hoarseness is at least slightly alleviated by the coolness, and it calms you down even more in combination with whatever medicine that nurse had nicked you with.

The flower vase you'd grabbed is back in its spot, the pretty flowers inside now smushed and some even snapped from your mistreatment. A small wave of guilt washes over you as you glance over the window sill. Did people visit and leave you these?

You stand, a bit shakier this time, setting down the empty water bottle and grabbing on the metal of the IV stand. You pull it with you as you walk over to the display, a deep frown on your face. On one of the snapped flowers is a note, with bubbly, cursive handwriting on it.

If I’m not here when you wake up, talk to me as soon as you can. I’m so relieved you’re back, lovely girl!

Much love, Cadenza

You swallow thickly, an indecipherable emotion rolling over you as you reread the words. Holding the note to your chest, you let go of the IV drip and move on to the next note, attached to a stuffed bear.

Hey, I’m sorry I wasn’t allowed to come but I had Travis deliver this. Hope I can see you soon.

-Dante

P.S. Gene helped me pick out the bear, so it’s a gift from both of us!

And then you pick up the next.

Here’s a picture of us at prom that I really loved. I thought you might want to have a print of it, maybe. I love you.

<3 Luci

And the next.

I made you cookies but they didn’t let me bring them in for you! I can make them again when you’re feeling better. Or maybe even before you feel better! I really missed you.

Love, Nana

And the next.

I consider you one of my not-alone buddies, even if you and Katelyn thought the title was a little goofy. I’m happy you’re back. :)

-Travis V.

I know we aren’t super close, but you’re still a friend who means a lot to me. Thank you for being so kind to me and everyone. I’m glad you’re okay.

Sincerely, Nicole

I’m sure some things won't be the same when you’re back. Regardless of what happened or what you feel when you see us again, I will always be here for you.

Love, Laurance

I love you so much.  I can’t describe how sorry I am that we couldn’t stop this from happening. But I will always protect you from now on, and I know you’re strong enough to get through this.

Love, Kate

I’m so sorry about everything. I hope you’re okay. I’ll be downstairs every day until you’re awake. As soon as you’re feeling up to it, I want to see you as soon as possible. I left these flowers for you! The pretty pretty dark red ones reminded me of you.

Aphmau <3

You have no idea how hard I cried when I found out you were here. I can’t wait to wrap you in a big hug again when I see you.

Love you dearly, Teony

You mean a lot to everyone, and especially to me. I’ve thought about you every day. I’ll be here for you if you ever need anything.

Vylad

I’m so sorry that I

Please forgive

I’m sorry.

Garroth

Several notes find themselves crumpled and clutched over your heart as your hands tremble. This is real. You were gone, and everyone was worried about you. They wanted you back.

You want to see them.

You remember that you'd wanted to see them again. That they were the light at the top of whatever dark place you were in; the light at the end of your long, dark tunnel.

You glance over to the IV. For a moment, you hesitate, but not even a second later you've pulled it out. It tugs uncomfortably on whatever part was connected to your arm, but you barely flinch at the pain. There’s a small voice in your head telling you that you shouldn’t have done that, but right now you just want to get out of this room. You need to get out of this room.

You’re not sure why you feel the need to be quiet, but the closer you move to the closed door the more your ears ring—a voice whispers: this won't end well. The blocked doorway makes you feel trapped, like you need to break free and run. Your vision locks on the handle, everything else blurring around you as you grasp onto the cold metal.

A sigh of relief leaves your lips when the door gives smoothly, opening without even a squeak.

Why were you worried? You’re in a hospital, not a prison.

When you step out, you quickly scan the hallway—thankfully, there’s no nurses around to stop you from leaving. But even still, where are you supposed to find your parents? Were they down in the lobby—wherever that was—or somewhere in another room near you?

Your thoughts are put to a halt when you hear voices chatter around the corner, one of them rising high enough for you to hear before lowering again. They sounded… worried. Angry?

As you inch closer, you’re grateful for the socks you were given; they help silence your steps. The voices become clearer as you reach the end of the hall. The first you hear is an unfamiliar man’s voice, his tone assertive, the sort that commands respect.

“…And just what are we supposed to do about this? We can’t send our son back to that school. What if he’s taken by those psychos, too? That girl is lucky she made it back in one piece!" The man pauses for a moment, then scoffs. "Then again… based on her reaction when she woke up, I'm not sure she did.”

“Enough!” Is that… Garte’s voice? “Fact is that she is back. Alive. That’s what we should be focused on. Besides, we can’t know for sure if she was the one who took her.”

“Who else could it be? You heard what the cops said. She was found near the same exact lodge. Is that just a coincidence? You seriously believe this isn’t exactly what we think it is?”

A heavy silence falls over the group. You lean against the wall, straining your ears to make out every word. Were your parents with them?

“Quiet, Derek. This isn’t helping,” a woman’s voice speaks up coolly. “We need to focus on what to do with the kids now.”

“…Rachel is right.” Sylvanna, too? “And… since we can’t know for sure—”

“We do know for sure. You can't all be ignoring the signs like this.”

“Derek!”

“…We need to think about if it was her,” Sylvanna continues. “Or… Zack. There’s no telling what their next move is, especially if she got away from them too soon. We’re going to have to be extra protective of them.”

“We can’t possibly uproot our babies.” …That’s Zianna. “This is already hard enough on all of them, and there’s no telling what kind of trauma…”

Her voice breaks, and the group is silent again.

“They clearly tracked her down after you both moved back here. There's no guarantee they wouldn't do it again, even if we all moved. We need to keep our kids together, and we have to decide if we’re going to tell them about all of this sooner or later. They need each other, especially now, after all that's happened. Don’t you all think so?”

You swallow. They’re talking about you, you're sure, but you can’t make any sense of it. Do they know who was responsible for what happened? How? Why didn’t they do anything?

Breath caught in your lungs, you lean forward, peeking around the corner. Your parents, Garte, Zianna, Sylvanna, Eric, a white-haired man, and a couple you haven’t seen before are gathered in a circle, all with grave looks on their faces.

“I agree. It’s hard enough moving schools at their age without this whole mess,” your mom speaks up, hand on her forehead, head hung low, “let alone now.”

“So, what? We’re just supposed to sit like ducks in a pond, wait for them to take another one of our kids? And we won't even tell the kids why they're getting targeted? Stalked? Hunted down? No way.” Now that you're seeing everyone in the group, you're able to connect the stern voice from before to a man with dark hair standing closest to… Rachel? His face and outfit matched his voice: harsh. Corporate. Authoritarian, and demanding of respect. “Aaron won’t be staying anywhere near that high school or your kids.”

“Listen, as many issues as I have with your son making moves on my daughter, pulling him out of this is too harsh,” Sylvanna snaps, pointing at him. “How is sending him off going to help anything?”

“Excuse me?” The man’s nostrils flare in annoyance. "At least he won't be lined up with the rest of your kids, waiting for his turn to get whisked away and experimented on."

“Enough,” the white-haired man says, his voice cutting across the conversation. He looks… directly at you. Something about his gaze pierced through you and was distant at the same time, like something familiar and far off was looking through his eyes instead of him. It sends a shockwave of paralyzing fear through you, and you can’t bring yourself to hide from his sight. “We have an eavesdropper.”

All nine adults are now looking at you, and you can’t help but flinch as you’re discovered.

“Oh, sweetie,” Zianna calls, her voice delicate. “It’s okay. Come here.”

You know these people. You know them. Yet your steps are hesitant as you approach them, a heavy sense of unease slowing you. They all look… horrified as their eyes stay locked on your form. It definitely didn’t help the sick feeling in your gut.

“It’s okay, mija,” Sylvanna reassures when you pause, walking closer to you and holding her hand out.

You stare at it—her small, tanned hand oh-so-familiar and comforting in your cold, white surroundings. Reaching out, you place your hand in hers, letting her pull you closer to their group. 

“Oh…” Zianna gasps lightly, reaching up to touch your hair. Her fingers feel strange against your scalp, and you realize it’s because the longer length that used to be there now only grows a couple of inches from your head. 

As her hands gently move down to your wrist, you turn your attention to the rest of the group; your parents start hovering close to your side.

“…What were you all talking about?” you ask, ignoring their fussing as you look each one in the eye. They all startle, a mix of guilt and upset written all over their faces. When neither Sylvanna nor Zianna say anything, you look to your parents for answers. It takes a few moments for you to realize that you won't be getting any; they only walk to your side to pull you under their arms.

Why are you getting nothing but silence? They know more about something awful that happened to you that you can’t even remember! Resent builds in your chest when you’re met with nothing but pitiful eyes. 

“Excuse me.” A woman announces herself quite suddenly, making you jump in place.

You turn to see a tall, blonde cop, her hair tied back in a tight bun. Her face is kind, but stern—it's clear she takes her job seriously. A younger-looking man stands next to her, who, from the look of it, likely works under her.

“I’m sorry for interrupting this talk, but we heard she was awake and wanted to ask some questions to help close out the missing person's file, if that’s alright?” she says to your parents shortly, before glancing over to you. “My name is Detective Azura from the Phoenix Drop Police Department, and with me is my colleague, Detective Gale.”

“I don’t know if now is the best time. She’s barely awake…” your mom says, turning to look at you with a deep frown on her face.

You glance around the group. They should be the ones answering the questions, shouldn’t they? Clearly, they knew more than you did.

“...It’s okay. I don’t mind,” you say quietly. “I don’t know how much I can tell you, though. Everything is kind of… gone.”

“That’s alright. Whatever you're able to recall would be more than enough.” Detective Azura nods, giving you a polite smile. “Would you like to do this in a room, for privacy?”

The offer makes your heart rate spike, and you quickly shake your head. “No, I can answer them here…”

“Okay, that’s fine, too.” She pulls out a notepad. “So, what can you tell us? Do you think you could begin by telling us what you were doing before the incident?”

You swallow, looking down at the lines between the tiles, tracing each outline as you attempt to pull anything.

“I… had just gotten back from a trip with my friends, and wanted to walk home to take a shower and get some things from my house."

“And—sorry to interrupt—you were at Ms. Salome’s house at this point, correct?”

You nod, and she gestures for you to continue. “I felt like something was off, but I shook it off because I thought I was just paranoid. And then—” You suck in a breath. Suddenly, talking isn't as easy as you thought it would be. “I saw the black SUV and started freaking out. I tried rushing—running to my house, but a woman was standing in my way.”

“And what did this woman look like?”

“It was too dark, but…” you trail off, thinking back to that moment. The memory is so hazy, so far away, but you remember the rough asphalt digging into your skin as you looked up at the silhouette of the woman above you; a head of blue hair hanging over her shadowed face. “...Her hair was blue.”

“Blue hair? You’re sure of that?”

“...Yeah. The street lamp was shining on it. It was light blue.”

Either the air surrounding the group shifts, or you’re imagining the eyes of the parents darting at each other in… panic? Fear? 

Detective Azula quickly scribbles something onto her notepad. “Okay, I see. But you don’t remember any other details about this woman? How about where you were held?”

The more you try to think past that point (your cheek, scraping against the pavement; your limbs, impossibly heavy), the more the thickness in your throat grows. Like the fog over your memories is filled with poison, stinging your hands any time you reach in.

After a deep breath, you start again. “I only remember… everything hurting… and I think I was in a room with bars, but…" You exhale sharply, reaching up to massage your temple. "I don't know. I'm sorry, I don't know, it’s—it's all blurry.”

Your head hurts.

“I see. Can you recall anything else?”

“I don’t think I can… I just remember there was something very important I needed to tell everyone, but—” you look down, “—I can’t remember what it was.”

“No worries, miss. It’s quite common for people in missing cases like yourself to block off traumatic experiences,” Gale speaks up.

You nod, eyebrows pinching as you look at the white tiles under your feet, missing the harsh glares the man receives from the group of adults behind you.

Detective Azura clears her throat. “We won’t bother you anymore about it, miss. If you ever do remember something in the future, please contact us. We want to prioritize your safety and the safety of anyone else who could get involved in this case, especially as your kidnappers are still at large.”

But… the adults around you know more! Why weren’t they saying anything? How are you supposed to figure out what happened if you don’t even know how you got here?

“Thank you for your time. We’ll be leaving, now.” Detective Azura nods, then spins on her heel and gestures for Detective Gale to follow.

“Wait!” you call out. “Could you tell me who found me? I… I want to thank them.”

She looks back at you. “It was a couple who found you. I’ll let them know you’d like to speak with them and send their number to your parents if they want to talk.”

“...Okay. Thank you.”

Once the detectives have rounded the corner, a silence settles over the group, and the man with silvery white hair from before steps forward, holding his hand out to you. His hair color might've aged someone else by a few years, but it didn't seem to affect this man at all. If anything, he looked pretty young; it's possible that he's one of the younger men in this group, even if only by a couple of years.

“Hi, there.” He offers a smile, the curve of it strangely familiar. “I’m Terry Valkrum, Travis’s dad. We’re both glad that you’re back. It’s nice to meet you.”

While you shake his hand, it's hard for you to return the smile or the greeting. This is just too weird.

“Yes, excuse us for not introducing ourselves earlier.” The dark-haired woman you didn’t recognize earlier leans forward, a hand curled delicately over her stern-looking husband’s arm. “I’m Rachel Lycan, and this is my husband, Derek. We’re old friends of your parents. It’s good to see you safe, though I'd hoped to meet under better circumstances.”

Lycan? As in… Aaron Lycan’s parents?

“...What are you all doing here?”

“Well, they wanted to see if you were alright. And your friends did, too,” your mom begins, her hands gentle on your shoulders. “We're all just trying to figure things out.”

You step away from her, brushing her hands off your shoulders. “Didn't sound like anything needed figuring out—not when you were talking like you knew all about what happened to me.”

Your mom's hands hang in the air for a moment before she tries moving closer to you, hurt flashing across her face. “Baby—”

“Excuse me! You aren’t supposed to be out of your room,” a nurse calls from the end of the hall. “You still need to finish your IV drip and get a check-up!”

☆

Your eyes droop as you stare blankly at the TV screen. It's been hours since you were escorted back to your room, and then poked and prodded at by three different doctors and several nurses. Between the anger you felt towards the adults and the bouts of anxiety you felt any time another doctor came in—well, it wasn’t long before your energy had been depleted once again. It seems three whole days of sleep can only do so much for you.

One of the doctors who'd come to see you was a psychiatrist, who—despite your reluctance—was a lot more helpful than the others you’d talked to.

“...showcase symptoms of retrograde dissociative amnesia, with your difficulty recalling memories about the incident. You also exhibit signs of PTSD, or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Neither are directly curable, but treatments and a good support system go a long way.

Of course, getting better will take time, patience, and keeping on top of the meds I’m going to prescribe you. The good thing is that if you keep up these meetings with me and a therapist, your symptoms will become much easier to manage. In fact, it's possible for symptoms of PTSD to fade away. At least to the point where they won't affect your daily life…”

The corny drama movie characters were fighting about something on screen in a language you couldn’t even understand. The volume was low, and you hadn’t even bothered to turn on the subtitles; the drone of their voices and trying to guess what was happening had provided you with more entertainment and distraction than anything else that could be offered in this room.

“No! Shh…”

Your eyes snap towards the door, muffled voices making themselves known on the other side.

“You’re… literally going… us caught!”

“Just… in, stupid!”

You flinch back when the door is practically thrown off its hinges, the faces of familiar teenagers toppling over one another to get a look at you. Aphmau is the first to rush forward, and she doesn't seem to care about sneaking around when she yelps your name. You sit up just in time for her to throw herself onto the bed with you, pulling you into a tight hug.

Her hands are impossibly gentle over your shoulders, like she's almost afraid of hurting you, but then at the same time her arms are wrapped just as impossibly tightly around you—like she's almost afraid of losing you. For a moment, it's only Aphmau hugging you. Then someone else's arms wrap around your back, and another pair around your legs. Cheeks rest against your skin; feeling your pulse, hearing you breathe. It's almost too much, but you can’t bring any complaint to leave your lips, eyes drifting shut and taking in this warmth, this peace. Quiet hitches from in-between people's cries interrupt the delicate silence. 

This whole time, even the faces that have been familiar to you your entire life—your mom, your dad—have given you a sense of unease. You're still disoriented, still unsteady. But this... it was right. 

You trust them. 

You pull away to look across the group. There's Aphmau, clutching onto your hand as you pull away; Zane, standing in the middle of the room; Travis and Vylad leaning in from the foot of the bed; Garroth, looking down at the floor with furrowed brows. 

You know them.

But then, as you're about to call Garroth over, you see her. She's there—she's there. To your farthest right, caught in your peripheral: a pale face, waves of light blue hair, and those piercing features—so, so piercing—as she hovers over you, stretches a hand out to your face—

Your breath catches. You flinch back, hard.

But you blink, and it's not her—it never was. It's only Katelyn. And after you jerk away from your best friend's touch, her face twists in hurt. In concern. In hesitation. In desperation. It twists with the crushed hope that you would return the sentiment of sisterly love overflowing from her fingertips. 

It's only Katelyn. Just your best friend, Katelyn. And just like how you know the rest of them, you know her.

“...Are you okay?” she whispers, hand hovering over your shoulder, afraid of being rejected  again.

You swallow, then reach out to grasp her hand in your clammy one. “I think so.”

The group watches you intently as you take a moment to look over them all. They wore comfortable clothes; clearly, they’d been waiting around here for a while.

“I mean… I can’t exactly answer that yet,” you murmur after a moment. “I feel okay now, but I'm kinda tense. It’s just hard to explain because I don’t—I can't remember what happened, or what I’m supposed to be feeling upset about. It’s just… there.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to explain yourself,” Vylad assures you, glancing between everyone else before giving you a soft smile. “We'll understand, no matter what you do or don’t say. We’re just glad you’re back with us.”

How is it that the kids your age are less demanding than the adults?

“Yeah, we really wanted to see you so we kinda snuck in,” Travis adds. “But if you want us to leave, we can.”

You shake your head at that. Though you aren't sure of your exact feelings right now, one thing you are sure of is that you want them to stay. 

The silence that follows lasts almost long enough to be awkward before Aphmau speaks up again.

“What do you want to do when you get back?” Aphmau asks, scooting closer to you.

What to look forward to? The quick and rather abrupt change of subject was obvious, but you still send her a grateful look.

“Take a long shower,” you say quietly. “And I want to see everyone else, too, I think.”

“We could all hang out at one of our houses, maybe!” she suggests, and Katelyn is quick to nod along. “When you’re ready, of course.” Travis and Vylad nod as well.

Everyone's heads snap towards the doorway, however, when the door's pushed open and a doctor steps in—and immediately gapes at the sight of your friends scattered around the room. “You kids aren’t supposed to be in here. How did you even…?” he trails off expectantly. When no one offers up an answer, though, he shakes his head.

“Never mind,” he sighs, stepping all the way into the room to reveal your parents standing quietly in the hallway. “All of your tests went well and future appointments are set. You are now free to go home. Now if all of you would give her some privacy to change back into her own clothes, please.”

Reluctantly, everyone stands, save for Garroth, who lingers by your side. He hasn’t said a word until now, but with the way his tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek, you can see he wants to.

“Sir,” the doctor calls by the door, the poor man likely exhausted from everyone—including you—refusing to follow instructions.

“Just one second, please,” he calls back, fingers digging into the bed sheets anxiously.

The doctor glances over at you, dark brows furrowing as he searches for your consent. You nod, and he relents with a sigh, shaking his head and closing the door on you both. Silence falls over the room as you slowly look back at the blond.

His mouth twists as he stares down at your hands, shoulders slouched under some invisible weight. With his hair unkempt and his eyes red and swollen—from what you assume to be a lack of sleep and an inordinate number of tears—he's a far cry from the Prince Charming you’d met on your first day of school. You can practically see the crown falling from his head as his lips wobble, the usually bright color of his irises misting over in shame.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“...What?” you breathe, confused.

“I’m so sorry,” his voice cracks as he leans forward and drops his head into his hands, “that I didn’t go with you. If I did—”

“Stop.”

You're both surprised by the power in your voice. The pure conviction, the wholehearted belief: that he was wrong. Slowly, Garroth looks back up at you, eyebrows pulled together as he swallows thickly.

“Even if you'd gone with me, who's to say it wouldn't have happened anyway? You might’ve even gotten hurt trying to help me.” You reach out to grab his hand. “I don’t remember much, but I know that’s true. Not a thing about this was your fault.”

“It was—”

“No. It wasn’t. How could you even think that?”

He closes his eyes. His mouth opens, then closes, then opens again and closes again. He's left to purse his lips, unable to come up with a good enough response. All this guilt, this blame, with nowhere to put it. He seems confused by your response, like this wasn't the reaction he’d thought up in his self-deprecation. Had he let this guilty turmoil brew in his head? Blamed himself for the entire two weeks you were gone? The dark circles under his eyes say enough of an answer, and it’s not one you like.

“How are you not mad at me?” he whispers. “You could be. You should be.”

“Because you’re one of my closest friends. And this was something that was going to happen eventually.” You lean forward, pulling him into your arms. Strong shoulders tremble and shake, and the boy cannot hide the sniffles and choked breaths as he breaks down. “How could I be mad at someone who wants to protect me so much? Seems counterintuitive.”

He shakes his head, tucking it over your shoulder, and in one quick motion reaches out, returning your hug desperately. His arms curl tightly over your back; his fingers crumple the fabric of your hospital gown; his tears wet your neck, a rare show of vulnerability even from him, who doesn't shy away from expressing his emotions at all.

Oh, Garroth. Sweet Garroth.

“Hey. I’m back and alive and you’re crying?” You poke his side, attempting to lighten his guilty shoulders with a tease. “You could at least pretend you’re happy, you know.”

Quiet, breathy laughter hits your shoulder, his trembling shoulders switching from shaking with tears to shaking with amusement. After a moment, he pulls away, hands coming to rest on your shoulders as he sucks in a sharp breath, you assume to control what must be an intense storm of anxiousness piled up in his chest.

“I am happy.” His eyes search yours.

You smile at him the best you can. “Then I am, too.”

Garroth gives you a shaky smile of his own.“Hey, I…” He pauses, looking off. “I overheard some things about what happened to you. When the doctors were talking to your parents…" He frowns, shaking his head. "Maybe it should wait until you’re feeling better.”

“What is it?” you breathe.

There’s a knock before the door's pushed open, the doctor from before peeking in. “Mr. Ro’meave, was it? Please, you can continue this conversation later.”

Garroth gives you a last, tentative smile. "...I'll tell you later."

©starhvney 2024. do not plagiarize, feed to any AI, or repost my works to any sites.

tag list: @orinlin @pain-in-the-ashe @youmake1mistake @arienic @wasting-away-on-the-internet @angelhyperfixates @remiechu @valentique @kalegrinch @izzybella1807 @marst4rz

[starhvney]

𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟑 | 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟖: 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐋?

𝐂𝐖: ptsd and descriptions of depression and anxiety, descriptions of reader’s hair being short, reader has scars, reader is medicated

𝐀/𝐍: this is the last chapter of subject 3! but not the end of this story…

𝐖𝐂: 8,800+

𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐑: the absolutely amazing @arienic! she's so cool guys

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 | 𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒

Your parents had brought you your favorite pair of pajamas to change into. The fabric's softer than you remember, soothing against your skin as you were ushered into the back seat for the ride home. After you'd settled in, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders, you were given your phone in a plastic bag. The screen was cracked, and when you turned it on a black line went down part of the screen. Apparently it had been dropped off the side of the road, likely to keep from tracking.

 Still, it was usable.

“It’s probably best for you to wait until you’ve settled in at home to respond to anyone's messages. And I highly recommend waiting until going on any sort of social media platform.”

Maybe it's for the best that you wait, because as soon as your phone turned on you were overloaded with more messages than your screen could even keep up with.

302 messages, 107 missed calls… So many random message requests from people you didn’t even know on social media.

Even if you weren’t still groggy from all of the anti-anxiety medicine, you don’t think you'd be able to even start unpacking most of this. Like the doctor said, it was best if you waited for a moment. You’re not even sure you can trust your parents at this point; not with how much they were clearly hiding. You’ll question them later. Later, not now, because right now… well, it’s just too much to think.

☆

The warm draft of the afternoon is gentle on your face as you gaze out at the street, the curtain sheers swaying behind you with the wind before settling across your back. This repeats in a rhythmic motion as you stay perfectly still with your chin on the edge of your windowsill, watching the world turn without you.

A silver car had pulled into the driveway about ten minutes ago, and since then there had been distant voices downstairs, too faint to make out but loud enough for you to know someone else was here in the house. So when there’s a gentle knock on the doorway of your otherwise silent room, you don’t startle or jump like you had been doing for the whole week you’ve been back.

“Good afternoon,” a man greets.

It takes effort that you don’t have to turn your head, still slouched against the wall as you examine the visitor. He has a kind face, the wrinkles that were imprinted on his skin showing he’s done a lot more smiling than frowning in his life; his voice is perfectly modulated and low in timbre.

“I’m Dr. August McCoy, do you remember me?”

He was the kindest doctor you'd spoken to in the hospital. You nod.

Dr. McCoy gives you a small smile and steps into your room. “Wonderful.”

You probably need to move now, to sit up from this spot you’ve been planted in for hours. So, after taking a moment to gather your energy, you do. The joints in your knees ache as you unfold your legs from beneath you, hands leaving your lap and flattening against the hardwood floor.

“Oh no, you don’t have to move. That’s quite a comfy spot you’ve chosen.” He smiles gently, walking closer and gesturing to a spot across from you, by the other side of the windowsill. “If it’s alright, I’ll just sit here with you.”

You nod again. With a quiet grunt, he takes a spot a few feet away from you, rubbing his knees when he’s settled in a cross-legged position.

“These knees don’t work like they used to,” he chuckles lightly, setting down a notebook and pen next to him before his brown eyes pivot back to you. “You seemed like you were pretty lost in thought, there.”

Yes—surely in the long period you'd been sitting here in silence, some train of thought had passed through your mind. But, truth be told, you hadn’t been thinking. Not at all. The emptiness making itself home in your chest was the only thing you could focus on, its heaviness pulling in your soul like a black hole, slowly consuming you.

“Ah, perhaps not thinking at all,” Dr. McCoy answers for you. “Simply sitting in silence and letting your mind rest is also quite the healthy practice.”

“I wasn’t really thinking about anything, yeah,” you admit. You're relieved when he hums in understanding.

“I see.” He casually rests his elbows on his knees. “Well, the last time we talked, you mentioned that you were going to talk to the couple who found you. How did that go?”

Donna and Logan. They came by to visit you a few days after you’d returned—by your request and their—or at least Donna’s—eagerness. She was a sweet woman with an endearing Southern accent. Her husband wasn’t so sweet in comparison, but he at least seemed to want to know if you were alright.

They'd been on a long drive back from their honeymoon when you'd ran onto the road, covered in blood, and collapsed in front of their car. Donna told you she recognized you when she saw the news, that she remembered you as the “cute little girl who came in the store with that punk ass Gene” sometime during the school year. After she brought it up, you remembered her as well—though at the time, skipping school and the… stalker were your biggest concerns. You thanked them both for saving you, and she gave you her number in case you needed any help, including “kicking Gene or any boy that gives you trouble's ass”.

“It was nice,” you tell Doctor McCoy. “Donna's… She's a good woman.”

“Yes, I’m positive she is.” He pauses. “After you had that conversation with them, can you tell me what you thought; what you felt?”

You glance away, back out to the street. After Donna had gone off about simple teenager problems like boy drama, the memories of your life last school year came flooding back.

“Ah, I see something there,” he notes, reading you like a book. “A thought? A question?”

Silence falls as he gives you time to answer.

“Will I ever be normal again?”

He smiles, tilting his head. “Well, what is normal?”

“...What?”

“To answer your question I need to know how you define normal. It varies from person to person, you know.”

“I… I don’t know. Happy. Not always feeling like something bad is going to happen.” You sigh, shrugging. “Like how I was last year. Even though I was still worried about things happening, I still had fun.”

He nods, looking very assured of himself. “Then yes, you can.”

“…How do you know that?”

“Because! If you want to get better, then you shall.” He leans forward again, tapping his finger against the side of his head “The human mind is the most powerful thing anyone can own. You can heal yourself by just believing more than any pill I give you.”

You lower your head. “You’re making it sound like it’s simple.”

“Oh, I never claimed it was. It’s going to be a very difficult journey, and you’re likely going to fall down, many many times. But… you know what?” He turns his finger towards you. “You are a very strong young woman. And the fact you’re thinking about getting better instead of just giving up is a big enough sign to me that you have the strength to get through this.”

“What should I do then?” you whisper, looking back up at him.

“Well, for starters, you said you want to be “normal” again, yes?”

“Yes…”

He gestures out the window. “Well, what would a 'normal' girl your age be doing right now? Where are your friends?”

The start of your junior year began yesterday. 

“At school.”

He leans back, now gesturing to you.

“Then why don’t you return to school?”

Return to school?

Was that even possible? Whoever had taken you still hasn’t been found. You’re a risk, a liability. The special treatment on top of having to deal with everyday high school issues… would that have to be your life? Were you supposed to deal with Ivy shit-talking you while downing your daily Citalopram at the same time? Could you do your Algebra homework while dealing with night terrors and only getting three hours of sleep again?

He chuckles. “Oh, that’s quite a face you made to that. I don’t blame you for not wanting to go to high school right now. I mean, being surrounded by so many people your age at such a time in your life…  Well, that sounds like a nightmare, doesn’t it?”

That’s an understatement. “Yeah.”

“That’s understandable. But, sometimes, the best way for people with PTSD to be on their way to becoming 'normal' is to simply return to the same life they had before—even if it’s a bit out of their comfort zone.”

Talking right now to this man one-on-one feels like pulling teeth, never mind going to a place with hundreds of kids your age every day. It was daunting before, but now… isn’t it almost impossible to imagine? Would the childish bullying you endured last year get worse, or will everyone treat you like a ticking time bomb?

“How am I supposed to act normal in school when everyone knows what happened to me? They’re going to treat me like I’m some—some case.”

“Oh, you will get quite some attention at first, good and bad,” he says lightly. It’s a little aggravating. “But, with time, that will fade, and your friends who truly care about you are the ones you can trust to help you through it.  I heard from your mom that you have a pretty great group of friends. Don’t you?”

You glance at your wall, covered in photographs, drawings, and notes—all from just one year since… today? No—yesterday. “Yes.”

“Since you mentioned you were having some trouble trusting people, I want you to take a moment to think about the friends you truly trust.” He emphasizes his words with a determined closed fist. “Do you have a diary?”

A journal with beautiful gold gilding lays on the corner of your desk, untouched since summer.

“...Yes. My friend Nana gave it to me.”

“Then, I want you to read over your journal and think about all of the people you know through the perspective of the journal, not through your current perspective. Then, on a sheet of paper, write down every person you trust. Don’t write down people you don’t trust, either. Only a list of people you know you can rely on. Maybe this Miss Nana can be one of the first you write down, yes?”

“Why not people I can’t trust?” Your eyebrows pinch together.

“Because, just like you have, people can always change. You don’t want to doom someone to be permanently on your untrustworthy list, just like you don’t want people to treat you differently because of what happened.”

“...Even people who I know are bullies?”

“Well if you already know that they are, you don’t need to write down that you need to stay away from them, do you? You seem to already remember!” he laughs, clasping his worn hands together. “Make that list, and think about what you want to do. Maybe try hanging out with the friends you trust after making it, and then decide from there if you want to return to school or not. How does that sound?”

☆

You stare down at the blank page on your desk, a freshly sharpened pencil twirling mindlessly between your fingers. Your hair was still damp from the shower; your goal of feeling warm under the running water quickly losing its appeal as you shiver in your chair. 

December 29, 20xx

Nana gave me this journal. It’s so pretty that I almost don’t want to write in it and mess it up. But I figured I shouldn’t let her gift go to waste, either. She’s always been so sweet. This isn't the only thing she got me, either—there's way more sitting on my bed right now, and all because she was so grateful I’ve been a good friend to her. I wanted to tell her that I was even more grateful that she and everyone else was friends with me, but I can't remember if I actually said it out loud like I meant to.

Speaking of gifts, actually—Vylad really loved the gift that I gave him! I was a little nervous he wouldn’t be all that excited about it, but I should’ve known better. He was as grateful and cheerful as ever. I’m really glad he’s become a part of the friend group, not just as Garroth’s little brother but as himself. I kinda wish Zane would try, too, but also… I don’t know what his deal is. I’m still mad at him for trying to be one of Gene’s little gang members. For how amazing Zianna is, I’m surprised he’s turning out to be a bit of a punk. It might be because of Garte. No, it definitely is. I just hope he gets his shit figured out before he starts doing stupid stuff to be “edgy”.

Anyway, right now everyone’s doing their own thing with their families, but I think we’re going to go to Laurance’s house for fireworks and stuff on New Year's? I’m pretty excited, cause I haven’t been to his and Cadenza’s house yet. Apparently they have a few sheep that their dad takes care of? So cute! Cadenza told me she was going to show me some string she literally spun HERSELF from the wool to use for making clothes. She is so much cooler than me.

You suck in a breath, then bring the graphite down onto the dauntingly white page.

People I trust:

Nana

Vylad

Garroth

Zane?? Not really 

Definitely Zianna

Laurance

Cadenza

Next pages…

January 8, 20xx

It’s the first day back from the break, and surprisingly enough I still haven’t had to deal with anybody being rude. At least for now. It’s pretty great, actually. Instead of being a loser freak everyone points and yells at, I’m just a normal loser with some cool friends. I think after Katelyn and Lucinda stood up for me and cussed out enough people, everyone took the hint and turned on Ivy. Who knows if that’ll last, though? I bet she’ll find a way to be as popular as before. But I’ll bask in my victory until that happens.

Gene, Sasha, and Zenix surprisingly have kept their word and haven’t messed with me. I caught them looking at me today during lunch, and Sasha even smiled at me in a not contemptuous way. I still don’t really like them, but… I don’t hate them, either. I guess we have some sort of weird mutual respect for each other now.

February 14, 20xx

Dante and Travis are weirdo little goobers, but they’re hilarious. I thought today would be kinda boring, but they started the day bright and early by attempting to use their best one-liners on me? All of them were shit, but it was entertaining, to say the least.

Also, PDH does this event where you can send flowers, candies, and sodas to people for Valentine's Day. I thought I was getting pranked when I got my entire desk covered in gifts. Some were from my friends (Teony sent me like three things, love her), but a bunch were from anonymous senders? I tried questioning everyone about it but—well, if they knew anything they were doing a good job of acting like they didn’t.

Aaron gave Aphmau a ton of gifts, one of them being a cute plushie. I was a little nervous about them being a thing at first, but with the way she talks about him and how sweet he is to her, I think I’m opening up to it. I still haven’t talked to him much at all, but he seems cool enough when I do. Maybe he was just going through something when school started up. Kinda like me. His friends (some of the werewolf kids I’ve kinda met—Blaze, Rylan, Dottie, and this kid named Daniel) seem pretty fun to be around, too. Anyway, I’m just glad Aphmau gets to have a boyfriend that treats her well. Sylvanna is not super happy, and I understand her overprotectiveness… to an extent. I guess we’ll see how that situation unfolds in the future.

Okay…

People I trust (cont.):

Katelyn

Lucinda

Maybe Gene, Sasha, and Zenix??? Maybe not.

Dante

Travis

Teony

Aphmau

Probably Aaron

Sylvanna

That’s already eighteen people you know at least aren’t wishing for your demise, and most of them are likely still waiting for a response to their messages. You’d replied to a few, but it was hard to know what to say.

“Hey, twentieth person to check in on me! Yes, I am super traumatized, and life will never be the same, but I’m doing great! Alive and well!”

Yeah, probably not.

Eighteen people is a lot of people to trust, doesn’t it? But, you suppose that’s the point Dr. McCoy was trying to make. Still, for this many people (or at least fifteen depending on how accurate you are about the Shadow Knights) to care about you… you guess you hadn’t really counted just how many people you’d become close with over the last year.

Above you on the wall are all of the pictures you’d accumulated; the memories held within the glossy paper are so fond, so warm in your heart, and yet… so distant.

Aphmau and you in your uniforms, posing by the entrance of the school. Your eyes look a little glossed over from how anxious you felt that day, but it was a little funny to look back on.

Katelyn, Nicole, and you: sweaty and laughing after practicing volleyball in the gym. That was the day Katelyn started begging you to join the team.

A candid of Lucinda applying your makeup for prom. You felt so pretty; she had taken extra care to make sure it was perfect for you.

A funny note Dante wrote you in class. He’d drawn a really stupid iteration of the teacher, and you almost got caught cause you'd laughed so hard.

Everyone sitting out on the Ro’meaves' back porch. Zianna had insisted everyone pose for pictures. You were cuddled between Teony and Nana, their arms draped over you.

The collaborative drawing you guys did at the Fall Festival. Garroth’s looks so silly—you remember having to defend him against Laurance’s teasing for a good five minutes. It was so hard to stop laughing.

A selfie Cadenza had taken with you, Aphmau, and Laurance in her car. The siblings’ silly bickering and good music taste started becoming the highlight of your mornings.

Travis, Vylad, Aphmau, and you at the movies, and the ticket you used. You all watched a corny romance movie Aph had begged you all to see with her.

Oh my God… why haven’t you talked to them? You cover your mouth, the features of your face crumpling as a whimpering noise leaves your throat. Why haven’t you seen them?

Shakily, you stand and reach for the closest picture pinned to the wall, weak fingers pinching onto the photo and pulling hastily. It gives easier than you expected, and your socked feet slip from beneath you, sending you tumbling down onto the floor. The tack holding the picture up slips from your grip in the process, finding itself unfortunately underneath you when you crash against the wood, lodging the pointed end right into your hand.

“Ah!” you hiss, tears springing to your eyes. Your turn your palm over to look at the injury. Damn it. “Ow…”

The pain's brief, replaced by a dull throbbing as you sit up. With a grimace, you pinch the thumbtack between your fingers, slowly removing the sharp metal. Though, where blood should’ve gathered in a small drop, the skin immediately seals over the puncture, as if nothing ever happened.

You wipe your face, aching weeps turning into a deep frown.

People I trust (cont.):

My parents…?

You recognize the footsteps of your mother approaching the doorway. “Sweetheart, are you okay? What was that noise?”

Staring at your palm, you offer a bitter response. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

“...Are you sure?” She’s quiet, just as cautious as her footsteps as she inches towards you.

“Sure. It healed up in a second, anyway. You know how better than I do,” you snip, whipping your head up to glare at your own image reflected back at you. Her eyes are much more worn, though, the lines in her face creasing as she kneels down to your level.

You don’t want to be mean to her. She’s your mother. But why was she keeping things from you?

There's a shameful twist in the corner of her mouth. Tentatively, her hand reaches out for yours, fingers trembling as she waits for you to take them. Even through the bitterness, the confusion—you take it, your cold skin warmed by hers.

“I… I know you aren’t stupid.” She squeezes your hand. “We do know things about… who it was that took you—”

“Then why are you keeping it from me?” Immediately, your voice raises. “It happened to me! I of all people deserve to know why!”

She tilts her head, her expression pained as she looks at you. It’s love and guilt in one confusing mix.

“I know. I know. And I’m not keeping anything from you on purpose.” She sighs, her shoulders sagging and head dropping. “There are… mistakes your dad and I made. We trusted people we shouldn’t have trusted, and—”

She sucks in a sharp breath, her eyes welling up with tears. “Baby, I’m so sorry. There’s things we kept from you because we thought that—maybe… maybe it'd be easier to protect you if you were in the dark, but…” She closes her eyes, swallowing. “We realize now that was a mistake.”

“...Then why won’t you tell me?” you whisper, your own voice trembling. “And why are other people involved? The Ro’meaves, Sylvanna, Katelyn’s dad—Travis’s dad? The Lycans? Mom, I’m so—I just—I'm so confused—”

“I know it’s frustrating, sweetie. And I don’t blame you for being upset with me. You have the right to be.” She nods, opening her eyes again and squeezing your hand again. “Right now we’re all planning to tell you and… their kids together. In a meeting. We're just trying to figure out the best time to do it. I promise you. We’re going to tell you.”

Your heart drops as the suspicions that have been haunting you for the past few weeks are confirmed, outweighing the relief in the fact that you would be brought to light in everything else. The words that leave your mouth next are panicked and rushed. “Why do they need to tell them, too? Are they targets?”

Her free hand reaches out, clasping onto your shoulder in an attempt to steady the spiraling of your mind—of the possibilities that were already forming into nightmares. “No, no, everything is okay now.”

It was getting hard to breathe. Your lungs strain to get in a full breath, the muscles tightening like a vice and causing your head to spin. “No, the person who did this is still out there. They’re going to get me again, and then they'll go after them! And then maybe, they—mom, what about you, mom—”

“Shh, no they won’t,  baby.” She swipes at your face. “You and everyone are perfectly safe now. Your dad and I aren’t… to let anything like… to… or any of—”

No. No, no, no.

Her voice is—it's gone, overpowered by a terrible ringing in your ears.

There’s the metallic clang of a door shutting to your right, and suddenly the room is dark. The bitter taste of blood stings your tongue, and long, shadowed fingers creep along your shoulders. Ready to dig in and rip apart your flesh. It’s going to get you. It’s going to get you. You never left. You never—

“Look at me…” The owner of the gnarled hands taunts you, in a voice so menacing and deep that you find yourself curling down into a ball, trembling and begging for it to stop, for it to spare you from its malicious intent.

“Look…”

It calls your father’s name.

“Help her!”

Strong, warm hands tug you up by the arms, wrenching you from the dingy stone floor and onto your feet. When the soles of your feet settle flat beneath you again, they’re greeted by the rug in your room instead, the material warmed from the sun shining through your window. The hands that hold you now are lifting you up, sturdy and protective—no claws. No claws..

“Sweetheart. Sweetheart, look at me.”

Your father’s eyes stare down at you, full of indescribable pain as his eyebrows furrow, creasing his forehead. Your mother is behind him, though her face is turned from you as her shoulders tremble.

Oh.

Your heart still pounds, blood swirling through your veins much too fast; fingers prickling at the tips, lips numb.

“I–I’m sorry.” A lump sits at the base of your throat, choking your next words. "I'm so sorry, I—I'm sorry, I don't know—"

“Don’t.” His voice is strained. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

He pulls you into his arms, cradling your head to his chest, where it shudders with a shaky breath. You close your eyes, trying to ignore the lingering panic trying to trick you—trying to convince you that you were still clawing at bars to escape your surely lethal fate. That you were still there, with all the stone and grime and—and blood. No, you were in Dad’s arms. He wouldn’t let that happen, would he?

What was it that Dr. McCoy told you?

“...it can be very disorienting when you get intense flashbacks. But when it feels like you can’t get out of that memory, I want you to use the 5-4-3-2-1 technique. Do you know what that is?...”

You see… the color of your room’s walls. The pile of letters you’d received at the hospital lying on your bedside table. The sun glinting off the medal you won at the Athletic Fair. The fuzzy pink blanket from Nana, hanging off the side of your bed. Your mom coming to stand beside you, wiping her face as she joins your dad in embracing you. 

You can feel Dad’s arms. Mom’s. The light breeze through the cracked window brushing against your skin. The soft rug under your feet.

You can hear the cars, when they occasionally pass over the street below. Your parent’s synced, yet shaky breaths. Dad’s calming heartbeat against your ear.

You can smell your mother’s perfume. The lingering scent of the candle she’d burned somewhere in the house.

You can taste the leftover saltiness of the tears that had landed on your lips.

“We want to wait until it’s a good time to tell you,” your mom whispers, her fingers squeezing against your shoulder. “Because we don’t want you to hurt anymore. I’m sorry, baby. I know it’s hard, but please trust that we’re doing everything we can for your safety. Not just your physical safety, either, but your mental wellbeing, too.”

…You know.

Of course you do.

…They’re confused and scared too, aren’t they?

When they held you as a small child in their arms, did they ever think the sweet laughter and innocent twinkle in your eyes would slip from their fingertips in this way? They never imagined the baby they once rocked to sleep would grow up to be someone they didn’t recognize, someone broken and distant, trapped in a world of pain they couldn’t reach. You were gone, scared you’d never make it out—but they were scared too. They’re trying to cope as well, aren’t they?

People I trust (cont.):

My parents.

☆

You stare at the dark screen of your new phone, fidgeting with your hair and trying to recognize the face staring  back at you. With a held breath, you lift your chin, fingers brushing along the scar that swept across your neck. It was so straight and smooth, the indent lacking any evidence that whatever caused it was violent. Though, when the pad of your thumb trembles over the healed wound, it fills you with a sense of dread; like this is the defining line between the girl you once were and the unrecognizable one you were now.

“What are you thinking about, sweetheart?” Dad asks, interrupting the silence that had strung out over the car. You glance up at him through the rearview mirror as he mindlessly taps his fingers against the steering wheel. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. You can still back out.”

“No, I do,” you murmur, turning to look out at the wealthy neighborhood around you.

You're only a minute from the Ro’meaves’ house, now. Your lips press together as you steady your breaths, the long driveway leading up to the tall brick colonial home—a familiar sight. Several cars already fill the driveway, and though you recognize them as belonging to the very people you had begged to see, the fact there are so many of them is daunting.

All of their eyes, their expectations—everything would be trained directly on you. Will they hesitate when they realize how much you’d changed? Will the month of separation feel more like a year? Will you still fit in their puzzle, now that your edges were jagged? Will they still try to make you belong, even if your image is awkward beside theirs?

Truthfully, you couldn’t tell if the tightness in your chest is excitement or anxiousness. The two could be interchangeable, after all. But as you wipe the sweat from your hands on the fabric of your clothes and the car comes to a stop, there’s nothing you want to do more than jump out and run inside.

Everyone seems to be inside, but then you notice a familiar boy jump up from where he'd been waiting on the front porch steps, his light brown hair bouncing as he sprints to your car. Before your parents even have a chance to get out themselves, PDH’s soccer captain himself is flinging open the car door, eyes wide and hopeful as he looks you over. 

“There she is!” He leans forward with a wide grin, arms spreading for a hug. From how his fingers are twitching, he looks like he wants to lunge on you without a question—yet he holds himself back, waiting for your reaction.

“Laurance!” you cheer through the surprise of his swift greeting, unbuckling your seatbelt and turning into him—a sign he takes in full stride as he pulls you into him.

He makes a happy noise as his arms squeeze around you and he pulls you out of the car, your feet leaving the ground when he spins around. You can practically feel the joy he radiates, the warmth of it seeping into your skin and rushing into your lungs, forcing an eruption of giggles from your mouth. The sound is… odd. Not because it wasn’t right, or it sounded weird, but because you forgot what it felt like to feel this giddy—to have someone be this elated to see you. How could you forget?

“Wasn’t everyone supposed to wait inside?” Mom chimes in lightheartedly as Laurance sets you down, tucking you under his shoulder.

“Well, yeah…” he chuckles sheepishly. “I made an excuse that I was taking a phone call so I could be the first one to see her.”

“Oh, how sweet,” she coos, eyes darting to meet yours slyly as she walks towards the front door.

Your dad hasn’t said anything, but as he passes you to follow Mom, he gives Laurance’s shoulder a rather intimidating clap, patting him a few times with a serious look before moving on. The boy smiles nervously in return, before guiding you both after them, squeezing your shoulder as you go.

“Are you doing okay?” you blurt. 

He smiles down at you, an amused huff leaving his lips.

“Today? I’m way more than okay,” he reaches up to poke your cheek. “Thanks to you.”

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and basking in the moment, before you step up the stairs. The cheerful chirping of the birds, the smell of freshly mowed lawns, the distant sound of your friends laughing and talking in the house; you really were here. You were safe. And now you can actually imagine it: being… normal again. Soon enough you’ll be surrounded by their warm laughter, able to join in on all the inside jokes and cuddle up by everyone’s side. This is real. This isn't a distant dream—it isn't just a sliver of hope to cling to as you curl up on the dirty floor.

You see your parents walk in first, the muffled voices beyond the door loudening as they slip through, leaving you and Laurance alone for just a moment.

“I was there everyday when you were asleep, y’know? Well, except for the day when you actually woke up,” he says suddenly—you think that somehow, he'd sensed your need to prepare yourself. “I was pretty upset when I found out the cyclops got to see you before I did.”

You offer a quiet laugh. “Still refusing to let up on that nickname, huh?”

“Of course. The little twerp deserves it.”

Laurance guides you the last few stairs up, making the distance between you and nearly everyone you hold dear only a polished door away. You hold your breath, chest feeling tight again as he reaches out to close that distance, his hand clasping the metal.

Before he turns the knob though, he pauses, peeking at you from the corner of his eye.

“You look nervous,” he whispers, nudging you with his elbow, “and a little teary-eyed. You okay?”

“I just…” You take in another, shaky breath, licking your lips. “I’m so different now. And not just in how I act, but I also… look different.”

He smiles warmly, reaching up to pinch a lock of your hair between his fingers. “I don't know, you look as cute as ever to me—the pixie cut suits you. And you sure as hell seem like the same girl I’ve been getting to know for the past year.” He leans in closer. “I promise no one is going to think differently of you or act weird because of it. If they do, I’ll beat their ass for you. Understand?”

You try to roll out some of the tension in your shoulders, sending him a grateful look. “Thank you, Laurance.”

“No need to thank me.” He straightens, patting your head before finally letting you go from under his arm. “Ready?”

“...Yeah.”

The door pushes open, and Laurance takes the liberty to step forward first, holding the door open for you. The first thing that hits you is Dante's unfaltering, boisterous laughter, even as Nicole and a few other girls yell at him to your right—likely about whatever dumb joke he made. The next thing that hits you is the sophisticated scent of jasmine and amber that permeates throughout the house, thanks to Zianna’s investments in luxurious candles. The smell's welcoming, familiar, reminding you of a time in your childhood you can't quite remember.

You step forward, glancing over to the doorway to see Garroth leaning against it, arms crossed as he watches the group of rambunctious teenagers in his living room. Even as your hands shake and your breath trembles, you don’t hesitate to stride forward, placing a gentle hand on his arm as you step by his side. His head is quick to whip towards you, his amusement with the scene ahead of him replaced by a tender look in his eyes and a quiet, fond call of your name.

As he wraps his arm around your shoulder, you look ahead, feeling the corners of your lips curve up and the heavy pit in your chest lightening. Katelyn has Dante in a playful headlock, rubbing her knuckles into his skull as he thrashes and tries to escape. All of the girls—Lucinda, Teony, Nana, Nicole, Cadenza, and Aphmau—cheer her on, declaring her as their knight in shining armor and giggling at his pain as they lounge on the couch. Vylad and Travis were laughing along too, seeming to agree this punishment fit for whatever the mischievous boy had blubbered stupidly from his lips.

Travis was sitting on the floor, cackling with his hand over his mouth. He looks… a little different from what you remember, hair trimmed to flatter his face more and skin clearer. His eyes shift slowly to your direction when he sees you from the corner of his vision, the bright green somehow lighting up even more, his eyebrows shooting up on his forehead. His hand comes away from his mouth as he points directly at you with a wide smile.

Oh! His braces are gone. Did that happen before or after you saw him in the hospital…?

“She’s arrived!” he announces theatrically, pulling everyone’s attention to you.

At first you flinch, almost pierced by how they lean forward and stare at you with wide eyes. Even though alarm bells set off in your head, and the urge to turn and hide in some corner is powerful, so is the bittersweet tenderness and care you force yourself to see in each and every one of their faces. Shouts and cheers of your name replace the previous bickering.

They’re all on the list. You know them. You trust them.

It feels like a bright light has been shined against you—and not a spotlight highlighting your new flaws or your hesitations, but a beacon chasing  the heavy weight from your shoulders; permeating your soul, warm and loving. It's so real, so genuine, that the light burned away at your fears and replaced it with hope.

They love you.

Laurance—who was still behind you and Garroth—ruffles your hair with his hand before nudging you towards them. Your footsteps stumbling forward is what breaks the unspoken barrier, encouraging Nana to leap up from the couch and rush over to you. Everyone freezes when she practically jumps on top of you without a second thought, breaths held as you yelp from the sudden weight.

You lower your head onto her shoulder when she nuzzles her face into yours, raising your arms to hold her back. Her voice comes through cotton in your ears, the pleasant melody harmonized by everyone else's as they join in, arms overlapping and warm breaths mingling, heating up your cold skin; praise and greetings fizzling out into a peaceful embrace. This group hug is lasting much longer than usual, but you won't be the first to pull away.

“Sooo… are you gonna come back to school?” Dante suddenly cuts through; he's answered by a chorus of groans.

“Dude, can you not talk for, like, five seconds?” Nicole hisses.

You feel him shift to your right when he laughs defensively. “What? I’m just wondering!”

Nicole pauses her beration of him when you start to laugh, shoulders shaking. You missed this.

After the group's settled into a comfortable silence, you say, “Actually, I think I might,” earning a few shocked gasps.

“Wait, for real?” Nana squeals, jumping up in her excitement and nearly toppling everyone over into a huge doggy pile.

“Y-yeah,” you say through stuttered laughter, focus quickly shifting from the conversation to staying on your feet as the whole group shuffles around.

“Are we gonna keep talking like this or can we sit down and give her some space like normal people?” Cadenza interjects, grunting under her breath. You look up to see Laurance ruffle her hair, the boy laughing when she sends him a deadpan look.

“In what world have we ever been normal?” he snorts. “But she’s right. C’mon guys.”

Soon you find yourself settled on the couch, squished in between Teony and Lucinda while Aphmau and Travis cling to your legs. Everyone else is sitting on the coffee table or on the couch as they lean in, latching onto every word you say.

“When will you be back?” Teony continues the conversation, fingers gently rubbing circles into your back as she tilts her head. Everyone else nods along, intent on knowing the answer.

“Probably in a couple weeks, maybe two from now,” you murmur, biting the inside of your cheek. The attention was getting to be just a little overwhelming, so you shift it back to them. “...What’s school been like this year?”

Everyone glances at the other, trying to gauge who should go first.

“Well, volleyball season just started—we still haven’t had our first game yet, though.” Kate makes a point to make eye contact with you as she adds, “We still have an open spot on the team, by the way… just saying…”

“Can you not talk about that sport for one second?” Lucinda teases, reaching over to pinch Katelyn's side and dodging a slap to her shoulder with a giggle.

“I’m just suggesting it. In case she wants to find things to do when she comes back,” Kate huffs, looking back to you. “Even if you don’t want to play, being a manager could be fun, too.”

“Hey! I was gonna ask her to be our manager,” Laurance argues, crossing his arms and sending her a dirty look, earning himself a fierce glare in return.

“Nuh-uh, she’s definitely gonna be the baseball manager,” Garroth chimes in, his hand covering Laurance’s face and pointing at himself insistently. 

“Okay, you sports nerds.” Teony rolls her eyes. “She can decide that later. Why don’t we update her on other things?”

“How about the entire werewolf population in the school now looking to Aphmau as the Alpha,” Vylad says, waggling his brows and nudging the girl’s shoulder. Her cheeks warm, and she sighs under her breath.

“Oh yeah. That’s a whole thing I’m glad I’m on the outskirts of.” Katelyn leans back on her hands, shaking her head. “I don’t even wanna know about that Ein dude that keeps clinging to her everywhere she goes. Just seeing his face pisses me off.”

“...Who is Ein?” you start, not quite sure how to unpack this as you glance down at Aphmau. “What about Aaron?”

Her face drops and she wrings her hands. “...Um, he’s not going to school here anymore. His parents made him graduate early and go to a private college. That’s what he told me before he stopped talking to me, at least.”

You frown, recalling the conversation you’d overheard in the hospital—what the Lycans had said.

“…And just what are we supposed to do about this? We can’t send our son back to that school. What if he’s taken by those psychos, too? That girl is lucky she made it back in one piece!”

“Aaron won’t be staying anywhere near that high school or your kids.”

Derek, was his name? Was he really serious? Would he really do that to their son? Even force him to stop talking to Aphmau, who was basically his girlfriend?

You stay quiet for a moment, reaching to pat her head to soothe the saddened expression that had started to form on her face. “I’m sorry.”

It’s your fault, isn’t it?

“…It’s okay.” She shakes her head, smiling. “It’s a little stressful leading a bunch of kids, but it’s kind of fun! And it gives me more experience as a mentor, I guess.”

“Following in my footsteps,” Teony coos, placing a hand over her chest.

You glance over at Laurance, lips wobbling. “…Baby’s first leadership role?”

His face lights up in recognition; he snickers. “She’s growing up so fast…”

“What? Ugh, this again!” She kicks out her feet childishly, looking back up at you with reddened cheeks. “Anyways! About Ein!”

You raise your eyebrow in amusement at her not-so-subtle change in topics.

“Why do you wanna talk about Ein so bad? Interested?” Dante butts in before she can continue. She groans, taking her jacket from her lap and chucking it towards him—she misses by a good foot.

“Shut up!” she huffs. “No way!”

“You better not,” Katelyn says, tone protective. “That guy has a bad rep, probably for good reason.”

You frown, glancing back down at Aphmau.

“He’s actually really nice once you get to know him,” she’s quick to defend. “You guys shouldn’t believe all the rumors you hear about him…”

“Speaking of rumors, there’s already a few circling around. I've heard some about Laurance and Garroth having girlfriends.” Lucinda quirks a brow, looking the boys up and down with pursed lips. “Seems the fan clubs are only getting more intense this year, hm?”

The two boys make similar faces, lips curling in discomfort and eyebrows pinching.

“Uh, let’s not…” Laurance mutters, scratching the back of his neck.

“Ahem! Sorry to interrupt, kiddos, but I’d like to steal the sweet girl away for just a second!” Zianna announces from the doorway, waving at you with a smile. “Do you mind?”

“Oh, of course not…” You rise up, untangling yourself from limbs and stepping around everyone's pouting faces.

“Be right back, yo!” Zianna cheers to the teens, placing a hand on your back as she leads you towards the garage.

“Mom…” Vylad and Garroth sync their groans of embarrassment, earning an amused laugh from her before the two of you step through the door.

Parked inside is a new Toyota Highlander, the pretty grey-blue paint looking freshly polished and shining under the overhead light. Huh, Zianna must’ve wanted a new car. Her SUV must’ve been parked outside and you didn’t notice.

“Are you okay, sweetie?” She reaches into her pocket, turning to face you. “Are you happy to be here with everyone?”

What exactly did she call you in here for…?

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m happy.” You rub your arm. “I’m happy to see you again, too, Zianna.”

She tilts her head, smiling softly. She seems emotional at your words, and you're suddenly reminded of how Garroth once described her as a delicate flower. You can definitely see it now, as her eyebrows turn up.

“There’s a reason I always call you 'sweetie',” she sighs, pulling something from her pocket and stretching it out towards you. “I wanted to give this back to you.”

The locket.

It glints in the garage lighting as her fingers tremble subtly, the surface slightly scratched. Despite this, though, it looks as freshly polished as the car next to you, like she'd made sure to take great care of it. When you close your eyes, the dark street of that night and the harsh slap that knocked you down and sent the locket flying replays for a split moment.

“It didn’t quite have the use I intended it to, but it’s yours. So if you want it, you can keep it…”

You breathe deeply, ignoring the shuddering of your lungs when you do so, open your eyes, and take the necklace into your hands.

“Thank you,” you murmur, glancing back up at her.

With her eyes a little more watery than before, she’s quick to turn her head, gesturing to the Toyota as she clears her throat. “How do you like this new car?”

When you turn to take in the vehicle again, you don't miss how she brings a hand up to swipe underneath her eyes.

“It’s really nice.” You nod. “It was the first thing I noticed when we walked in here.”

“Well, good,” she smiles, reaching in her other pocket and pulling out a set of keys. “Because there’s something else I want to give you.”

Your brow furrows when she holds her hand out again, dangling the set of keys in front of you to take. She tilts her head for you to take them, but you’re frozen, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“...What?” you breathe.

“After everything that happened, I was talking to your parents and they mentioned how you shouldn’t walk alone anywhere anymore,” she explains, shaking the keys gently. “And while my boys and I are perfectly fine with being your chauffeurs, Garte and I decided you should have a car of your own, in case a friend can’t be there.”

You close your mouth—it’s your turn to tear up now. “I… Zianna, I really can’t accept this. This is too much…”

“It’s not too much,” she insists. “I won’t give this car to my boys, so if you don’t take it, it will keep sitting in this garage until it doesn’t work anymore, so I’d suggest you do.”

There’s no words to even begin with as you take the keys, blinking rapidly and shaking your head. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t need to say anything, dear.” She pulls you into a gentle hug, petting your head in a motherly display. “Just guaranteeing your safety is enough  for me.”

You hug her back, sniffling as you stare at the car. Sure, you might be able to accept a few flowers and teddy bears, but this? The Ro’meaves may not be running out of money anytime soon, but this is still an insane gift for someone that wasn’t even their own kid.

“Also,” she continues, “I won’t pressure you to join in if you don't want to, but I’m making my boys take some self defense classes, and I think it would be great if you attended as well.” She sways a little, rocking you with her before letting go. “I believe Aphmau, Travis, and Katelyn are going to do it as well. You don’t have to answer now, but it’s something to consider.”

“I will,” you murmur, too overwhelmed to consider it at the moment—even if it was a good idea.

“Oh, and one last thing before I let you go, sweetheart,” she says, quickly dashing over to the passenger side of the… of your car, reaching in and pulling out a small bag. She giggles when she turns around and catches your wide-eyed expression. “I promise it’s nothing big.”

You press your lips together, accepting the bag quietly and looking inside. Inside are two things: pepper spray and a…

“A taser?”

“Stun gun. Thirty-thousand volts!” she chirps, much too cheerful for someone who'd just casually gifted you two highly pain-inducing weapons.

“Uh… Thank—thank you.”

“Again, sweetie, not anything big.” She waves her hand dismissively, taking the bag from you and placing it back in the car. She gestures back to the door, smiling. “I shouldn’t keep you for any longer. Your friends are waiting for you!”

You nod slowly, following her back out. As soon as you enter, everyone is quick to pull you back right into the center of the group, the conversation flowing once again about the silly, mundane things of teenage life. As the minutes ticked into hours, not once did you find yourself bored, the calming voices almost surreal to listen to as you sink into the couch cushions.

How easy was it, to take all of this for granted? A few weeks ago, you were sure moments like these were distant dreams, ones you’d never get to experience again. Such simple moments; the way Lucinda overdramatized her stories, or how Katelyn and Nicole would lean close to threaten someone playfully. How Vylad smiled wide at anyone he made eye contact with as he looked around the group, or how Nana would squeal anytime anything cute or romantic came up. How Aphmau giggled at every corny joke. When Cadenza dramatically sighed or tossed her hair. How Laurance always made sure someone got their word in when they were interrupted, and how horrible Garroth is at controlling his expressions when someone is telling a story. 

There’s a quiet understanding in your chest. You'd thought the edges of your puzzle piece were too jagged, but they aren’t. You slid right back into place. Even if the paint was a little chipped, a little smudged, you fit. Despite everything, you're still you. Everything is falling back into rhythm.

You almost died at seventeen. But you didn’t. This is reality now. You’re alive, and real. Being safe is real. Being protected is real. Being surrounded by the people you love—that's real. This is… normal. What you’ve always wanted since the beginning.

You could be normal again.

…Right?

©starhvney 2024. do not plagiarize, feed to any AI, or repost my works to any sites.

tag list: @orinlin @pain-in-the-ashe @youmake1mistake @arienic @wasting-away-on-the-internet @angelhyperfixates @remiechu @valentique @kalegrinch @izzybella1807 @marst4rz @vyladsgirl @rune-balot83

[starhvney]

𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟑 | 𝟏𝟔: 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃

𝐂𝐖: um... more violence and mentions of traumatic injuries, cussing but like how offensive is that in comparison to the other stuff at this point

𝐀/𝐍: oh snap it’s going down (intense traumatic experiences)

𝐖𝐂: 4,600+

𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐑: the one, the onlyyyy @arienic !!! *blows airhorn*

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 ☆ 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 | 𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒

laughter carries through the air, the mix of everyone’s joyous voices in the room warming your chest the same way your hot chocolate warmed your hands. you settle back into the ro'meaves’ couch, the worn-in material allowing you to sink into the cushions where you were lodged between lucinda and dante. 

“okay!” aphmau squeals, clapping her hands excitedly in the center of the room. “it’s time to exchange the secret santa gifts!”

you’re perfectly content where you sit, though, with a soft smile on your face as you glance around the room. everyone was bundled up in their sweaters and cozy pajamas, excitedly getting up to give and receive their gifts and giggling as they bumped into each other. oh, you suppose you should get up when lucinda’s hand grasps onto your arm to help you along with her, the mature scent of her perfume wafting along your face and the tinkling of her bracelets pleasantly gracing your ears.

“c’mon, sweetie. you can’t fall asleep now,” she coos playfully.

“i wasn’t! just enjoying the moment,” you defend, only earning a teasing look from her in response before she prances off with an amused huff.

you shake your head, chuckling quietly to yourself as you pick up vylad’s gift, shuffling around the crowd and earning a hair ruffle from dante and a nose pinch from teony as you go, the two of them being the touchiest of your friends as always. not that you minded—coming from anyone in this room. you kind of enjoyed that you were close enough to them for them to want to casually reach out to you in a sudden burst of affection. it was cute.

vylad immediately turns to look down at you with a dimpled grin as you hold out your gift, giving you a grateful nod. “hey! merry christmas.”

“merry christmas,” you return, shuffling on your feet as he starts to open his gift, starting to feel a bit nervous if he’d like it.

his face lights up as he opens the box, mouth cracking open in surprise as he reaches in, pulling out the 35mm camera film bundle you got. “woah, there’s so much! and a calligraphy set too?”

“yeah… sorry i didn’t get as much film because it can get kind of expensive… but i thought i’d get you something you’d use the most.”

“no, no, don’t apologize. this is perfect!” he insists, his voice full of genuine thankfulness. “how did you even know i liked all of this? or what kind of camera i had?”

“i totally interrogated your mom about what kind of camera you had. shout out to zianna,” you laugh. “i remember you talking about liking photography and how you liked to write, so…”

“wow. i’m not secretive but i didn’t realize i was that easy to read,” he muses, wrapping an arm around your shoulder for a hug. “you really put a lot of thought and effort into this, i can tell. this is so awesome.”

“aw, i’m really glad you liked it.” you sheepishly return the hug before stepping back again.

“i more than like it, i love it. thanks!”

a gentle tap on your shoulder diverts your attention from the heartfelt scene you were in. nana gives you a sweet smile when you turn to her, her eyes forming into crescents as she presents a rather large pink gift bag with a cute snowman on it.

“hi! i was your secret santa,” she giggles as if it weren’t obvious.

“oh! thank you, nana.” you smile, taking the bag from her as she bounces expectantly on her toes.

“go ahead and open it!” she ushers, tail swishing behind her, the tiny jingle bell on the bow she used to decorate it tinkling.

you laugh lightly as you appease her demands, pulling out the tissue paper to reveal quite an array of gifts.

“so, i remember you mentioning you thought the cookie cutters i had were super cute when we were making those sweets for everyone… so i got you some! and—and those are some earrings that reminded me of you, and—oh! that’s a blanket with kitties on it,” she rambles, pointing out each thing with a shimmer in her eyes. “that’s a cute journal i got for you because we had talked about how you wanted to start writing down your favorite memories so you never forgot them. remember?”

“wow, nana. you didn’t have to get all this for me…” you murmur, mouth agape as you admire the hardcover journal in your favorite color, its pages glinting gold around the edge.

“of course i did! you were one of the first people to actually care about me and try to become my friend at the school.” she rocks on her heels, hands folding behind her back. “you mean a lot to me, so i wanted your gift to be special.”

pulling in a big breath, you swallow thickly, overwhelmed by the affection poured onto you. your friends’ laughter buzzes in your ears as you reel in the moment, eyes wide. “thank you, so much… you mean a lot to me, too.”

“but, um…” she murmurs your name, face turning gravely serious. “i have to tell you something.”

strange. this isn’t how you remember this going.

“if you want to come back to us, you have to wake up.”

“…what?”

“wake up.”

a sharp inhale through your lungs pulls a veil of darkness over your eyes, replaced by a gray ceiling. there’s no warm laughter, no welcoming fireplace; just the cold, damp room you’ve been forced into for who knows how long now. your fingers dance across the thin sheets, chasing after the ghost of warm hands encasing yours, only to be met with the scratchy material irritating your skin.

your neck hurts; externally as you reach up to feel a crusted-over bandage, and internally as a lump forms inside. vision blurs and fingers tremble as a pathetic sob wracks your chest, the choked noise of pain echoing in the empty room. turning on your side, you gasp for air, your breaths tight and panicked. you can move again, you realize, but when you attempt to sit up and stand your body gives out on you and sends you sprawling onto the hard tile floor. using what little strength you have, you use your arms to drag yourself to the bars of your cell, grasping the bars and resting your cheek on the rusted metal.

tears pour down your face while your chest heaves unevenly, soaking into the gauze on your neck and staining your dirtied clothes. weakly, you lift your hand again, realizing through your hazy eyes how thin and pale you’d gotten. you’d been fully drained, your body pulling whatever it could from your muscles and bones just to keep your heart beating. more cries leave your lips as you reach up to your neck once again, tugging at its tight constraints with an angry cry. as it loosens with an uncomfortable crack from your skin a wave of fear washes over you, freezing you in place.

what if your head fell?

short breaths are sucked in through your mouth as you try not to move, slowly loosening the bandages again until they finally give free, unraveling onto your lap. you stay still for a few moments, staring at the dark red below you, before reaching up to feel where the blade had been lined against your neck. there it is: an indent, perfectly horizontal, reaching across where your jugular was.

she must not have completely beheaded you. if she did, would you not have woken up?

a feeling of utter hopelessness creeps into your veins starting from your hands and feet until it spills out in the form of more tears, a piteous weep leaving your lips. none of this makes sense to you. not the pain… not anything she said about your parents… or the man… or men behind it…? she mentioned two, didn’t she? no, no that’s not what she said…

not what she said about…

not what she said…

no.

what exactly did she tell you?

why can’t you remember it?!

there was something important! information you had to keep if you got out of here! what is it?!

“what happened…” you hiccup, lungs catching and stopping, breaths hiccuping. “what did you…”

your fingers dig into the metal, pressing uncomfortably into your bones as you manage some strength in your lungs and scream at him, “what did you do to me?!”

the muscles in your throat strain in protest, cracking your words as they echo in the empty corridor. raspy coughs leave your throat as your remaining strength gives out and you go limp where you sit. it’s a few minutes like this—maybe even an hour—before quiet footsteps slowly make their way toward your cell. you don’t bother looking up, only acknowledging who it is when someone kneels down by the door. black jeans, a dark blue shirt… it matches his hair.

he watches you from the side of his eye as he sets down a tray, sliding it under the door. when he moves to get up again, he hesitates, as if there's something he needs to say.

“please kill me,” you rasp, making him jump as he whips his head over to you, his eyes darting down to your fingers where they grasp onto his wrist. “just kill me. i can’t do it again.”

he gives you a look, eyes widening and lip curling. you can’t tell what it is. pity? disgust?

this is the first time you've really looked at him up close. a few scars litter his skin, his steel gray eyes startlingly harsh through his dark lashes. his nostrils flare as he pulls away from your touch, standing and backing away as he looks down on your miserable slumped form.

“i can’t,” he mutters. “but… i wouldn’t bite into your food too hard.”

you stare up at him, confusion muddling your features.

“and wait until dusk. that’s two hours from now.”

he turns on his heel and stalks away, glancing back at you once more over his back before quickly running back up the wooden staircase, leaving you alone as fast as he had appeared.

don’t bite into your food too hard.

the tray is by your feet, nothing but a pile of mush on it. you’re not sure what kind of food it’s supposed to be, but it most definitely wasn’t crunchy or solid. shakily, you reach out to the tray and pull it into your lap, hesitantly hovering your fingers over it.

what are you doing…

wriggling your fingers down into the semi-warm substance, they soon meet the cold center where a metal object is buried inside. your eyebrows pinch together when you pull it out, shaking the food away to reveal a… key. did he just…?

he gave you the key to the cell. he’s helping you escape.

two hours from now.

“thank you,” you whisper to the void, even if you know the boy is long gone.

would he be punished for this? a part of you worries for him, but the selfish want for self-preservation has those thoughts pushed to the back of your mind, replaced by the memory of warm arms around your shoulders. you had to get back. this wasn’t the end. you didn’t have to die here. a joyful weep wobbles from your lips, as you begin to count the seconds. how many are in two hours?

one mississippi… two mississippi…three…

eight hundred and thirty-three…

five thousand six hundred and twenty-seven…

seven thousand two hundred.

you had eaten the plate of food to the best of your abilities, despite its bland taste and rather disgusting texture. it was like southern grits, but if it were slimy and void of any good flavor. still, you stomached it, and it at least gave you the strength to stand up on your legs without falling. your breathing was labored from the effort, but you had to do this, and you had to do it now.

nimbly sliding your fingers through the door’s bars, you fix the key into the lock and twist, a satisfying click meeting your ears as the door gives way to your weight leaning on it. it squeaks in the silent hallway, and for a moment you stand completely still as it swings all the way open. 

you were free.

run. run run run run run run!

you take off towards the wooden stairs, careful to keep on your tiptoes, sliding your feet across the stone to make less noise as you go. slowing down at the wooden stairs, you’re careful to make a minimal amount of creaks as you ascend them, holding your breath as you listen closely to the floor above. there’s no talking, no shuffling or movement. did they go somewhere else?

at the top of the stairs, there's a wooden door. quiet prayers for it to be unlocked leave your lips as you approach it, and you have to stop yourself from letting out a cry of relief when it is, opening up to a dimly lit, huge room. 

you were in a log cabin, though a mansion seems more suitable as a title. tall windows span up to the ceiling on one wall, overlooking a familiar scene of a forest. plush couches and red carpets littered the large space, setting up what was an over-the-top lounge room.

tentatively, you walk out from the doorway, looking up to realize it was somewhat hidden behind a staircase. the place seemed empty, but you sure weren’t going to stick around to find out. the only thing you can hear is your uneven breaths as you make your way to two large red doors, hands shaking as you push the heavy wood open. the sound of crickets beginning to chirp and fresh air enveloping your face is overwhelming, making your shaky steps stutter in place as you stare out at the tall trees ahead.

looking around, the coast is still clear. was what ein told you a red herring? this seemed too easy. running out to the empty driveway, you step beyond the pavement toward a nearby cliffside, looking over the forest beyond. there was nothing else in sight for miles, except for…

a tall lookout tower in the distance.

your face blanches, and the small amount of nutrients you had in your stomach comes rushing back up your throat in an instant. they were that close to you the whole time.

sputtered coughs leave your lips as you lean forward, hands resting on your knees while black spots your vision. what if they were just letting you go now? have you never been in control this whole time? not since the moment you moved? since the moment you were born? is there any point in escaping this?

there’s no time to delay anymore though, not when you’re taking off again towards the driveway, cutting into the treeline where you’re sure the road led off to. your lungs burn as they try to keep up with your legs, your throat barely taking in enough oxygen for you to stay conscious. you feel like you’re out of your body, merely spectating a memory as you weave through trees. your face feels cold and numb, and you vaguely feel the pain of your bare feet getting scraped and stabbed by the forest floor. black is beginning to spot your vision and the next moment your toe catches on a root, sending you tumbling down a steep hill with a sudden cry.

rolling to a stop, you gasp for air, yet none comes as panic continues to riddle your lungs.

“...you mean a lot to me…”

it feels like warm hands are lifting you, urging you to keep going, and as you stumble forward you realize you’ve made it to the road. warm asphalt meets your feet as you continue to try and catch your breath. the sun had set by now, disorienting any sense of direction you may have had in the first place.

as soon as your vision clears, you’re blinded by headlights and the screeching of rubber against the road—

you're sent flying, your hands painfully scraping as you land on your back. it feels like you’re dying, lungs on the verge of collapsing. even if it was your captors, you don’t think you could run or even crawl away, the stars in the sky beginning to spin and melt above you and the noise of the world around you turning into warbled echoes.

“oh my… is that… missing… girl that… gene… with.” a woman appears above you. you can’t make out her features. “holy shit… logan! call… help! …hospital…!”

“help,” you gasp. in a last attempt at freedom, you grasp onto her shirt.

“shh… you’re… okay, hun… safe…”

a tall man looming over the both of you is the last thing you see. strong arms lift you from the jagged ground; the bitter, metallic scent of your blood is the last thing you sense before the terrifying freedom of darkness overtakes you.

☆

over a week. it’s almost been two.

garroth stares blankly at the empty fireplace, stuck in the same position he’d sat in hours ago. he chews at the inside of his cheek again, wincing when he draws blood this time. 

there's no telling where you are now or what’s happened to you. and it's all his fault. if he’d just walked with you down the sidewalk. it was two houses down. only two. that careless decision took you from him and everyone else who cared about you.

when you come back… if you do… he wouldn’t blame you if you hated him. if you never wanted to talk to him again, or even look at him. he deserved your resentfulness. he wouldn’t even mind it if it just meant you were back safe.

“hello?” zianna’s voice carries from the kitchen, her tone indicating she’d picked up a phone call. 

vylad shifts from where he sat on the other side of the couch, turning down the volume of the tv that had been playing mindless background noise to his and garroth’s thoughts. his head turns to better hear their mother’s voice, only to flinch when the shattering of porcelain on the floor and a sharp gasp from the woman breaks the silence.

“where is she?”

garroth swallows, eyes widening before shooting up from his spot, sprinting into the kitchen and nearly crashing into the counter. he's gripping onto the marble top as he stares down his mom—the woman leaning back into the corner with a face void of color. her sweet, green eyes are glossy with tears, hand reaching out to zane whose eye flicks between her and the shattered plate in concern. for once, he looks to his two brothers without malice or annoyance, instead holding zianna’s hand with care as he leans in to overhear the other end of the line.

“and she’s okay?” she whimpers, shaking her head as she looks around, attempting to move. “where? where?”

garroth sucks in air, only just realizing he’d been holding his breath before rushing to his mom, lifting her over the shards threatening to slice her bare feet. she dashes over to snatch her keys up from the hallway table, sliding her feet into some sandals by the door—before stopping in the doorway, and turning to face her sons once again.

“i’m headed there now.”

as soon as the phone is pulled away from her face, questions hastily tumble from their mouths.

“she?”

“did they find her?”

“where are you going?”

she covers her mouth, pulling in a deep breath in an attempt to pull herself together in front of the kids. they were only kids. she was only a kid.

“yes—she—” she clears her throat, wiping at her bare face. “they found her. she’s in a hospital an hour from here. i’m headed there now—”

“i’m going!” garroth interrupts, startling the woman and making her jump in place.

“yes… all of you can come. i’m not even—” she waves them forward, pausing by the mirror and beginning to fix her hair—before shaking her head, footsteps quick as she goes off to the garage door. “just get in the car, boys. i need to call garte…”

all three of the boys follow, the youngest boy pulling out his phone and sending off a text as they scramble for their seats in the suv. zianna’s hands tremble as she starts the key in the ignition.

vylad: they found her.

laurance: wait what?

katelyn: please don’t tell me you’re lying

lucinda: is she okay?

travis: where???

nicole: which hospital???????

dante: are you serious? did they find her just now?

aphmau: she’s at nahakra hospital

teony: can we see her?

laurance: i don’t care i’m going anyway

nana: i’m crying please tell me she’s okay

aphmau: i don’t know there’s no details yet

katelyn: i’m going too

aphmau sent a location.

“mom.” zane’s voice cuts across the near-silent car. “it’s night. you’re driving crazy.”

zianna clears her throat as she slows down, and when garroth glances over she quickly wipes her face again, shaking her head. “i’m sorry boys, i’m just—oh, that poor baby. please, please let her be okay.”

the drive there is a long one, both having stretched on for far too long and blurring together in garroth’s memory as they now sit in the small hospital’s lobby.

“we can’t go see her at all?” sylvanna presses. the poor receptionist who they'd been badgering for the past hour shifts in her seat.

“i’m sorry, ma'am. all i can tell you is that she is alive and stable. but i can’t give you details or let you through unless you’re family.”

“she is family.”

“...i’m sorry. please understand i can’t do anything more until a doctor gives the clear. you can take a seat and have some refreshments until then.”

katelyn sighs, shifting as she glances at the analog clock above her. nana and aphmau let their heads bobble against her shoulders as she moves, hands clutched onto each other, exchanging words of worry that didn’t leave their lips.

12:40 am.

“no, man. they’re not even letting us see her,” laurance mutters into the phone, sighing tensely. “yeah, just come tomorrow if you want… yeah, i’ll text. yeah. bye.”

“was that dante?” aphmau shifts her head, voice quiet.

“yeah. his mom won’t drive him this late and he was trying to get… gene to come back from out of town to get him here.” his lips sour at the name, but he seems too tired to dwell on his own reservations. “...i think teony and lucinda won’t be coming until tomorrow, too.”

“makes sense…” nana rubs her swollen eyes, her nose still red. “the only reason i could come is 'cause aphmau picked me up.”

travis is uncharacteristically quiet, eyes round and knees hugged to his chest as he stares at the adults in the room.

following travis' line of sight, garroth glances over at the receptionist's desk. even his dad was here… his arm wrapped around zianna’s hunched shoulders as they exchanged hushed whispers with travis’s dad and… two people he’d never met before. aphmau had said something about aaron’s parents earlier, seeming confused herself, but why would they be here? or travis’s dad, for that matter… and what could the group of them possibly have so much to talk about so secretly and with such intensity?

“...fuck this. i’m finding something out,” he mutters, earning a questioning look from laurance as he stands from his seat, slowly making his way to the stairway and slipping through the door, thankful for sylvanna’s distraction to the staff.

they mentioned that you're in a room on the third floor. his feet skip every other step as he huffs his way up the flights, stopping at the thin window and glancing inside with narrowed eyes. the coast is clear, so, after catching his breath, he pushes through the door, glancing around the hall. he can hear distant chatter around the corner, and recognizes the familiar cadence of your mom’s voice. a pang of guilt and shame runs through him, his eyes dropping to the tiled floor as he moves closer, listening to her despaired, hitched breaths.

“...yes ma’am. torn ligaments in her feet, a fractured wrist, pretty deep fissures on her whole body… it’s all healed. the stitches pushed out of her skin. i really have no way to explain this except for an ancient magic that hasn’t been used by anyone for a long time. this kind of practice would be…” the doctor clears his throat, pausing. “ah, but… aside from her external injuries, our biggest issue is what came back on her brain scan… and her blood results.”

“what is it?” a gruff voice urges.

“she had large amounts of midazolam in her system. it’s a sedative that can cause some serious issues with hallucinations and memory recollection if abused. judging by the scan, it seems like she had a pretty consistent flow of it, but there’s also not enough information to tell how much she's been affected by it, and how much damage it's done.”

garroth’s mouth curls, hand coming to cover his face as the blood drains from his face.

“and…” the doctor seems to be choosing his words carefully, voice gentle. “there's more. not only was she given large amounts of midazolam, but her brain shows signs that we would see in a person who went through something highly traumatizing. it’s likely she will suffer from dissociative amnesia among other ptsd symptoms. i can’t tell you how she will react when she wakes up, as it varies among each patient… but she will require a lot of psychiatric help. i don’t mean to make this worse, but this is the worst case i’ve ever seen.”

bile rises up garroth’s throat, and he’s forced to swallow as he slides down the sterile, white wall of the hospital hall. another choked weep leaves your mother’s lips, but not before the doctor speaks up again.

“but also…” he hesitates. “while her other injuries mysteriously have been healed, she has strange scarring on the upper half of her arms and legs, as well as a scar along her neck. they’re very precise. it's a quality that, in my personal opinion, one would expect from an experienced doctor… and when she arrived, the outfit she was wearing was a patient’s two-piece with the number three on it. we don’t have much other information as of yet.”

“oh god… this is all our… fault…” your mother incoherently babbles. “my baby… what have i done to you…”

“ma’am…?” the doctor sounds uncomfortable, confused. “i don’t…”

“please just leave us be for a moment.” your dad’s voice cracks.

a quick tap on garroth’s shoulder has the boy jumping out of his skin, whipping his head up to see the scolding face of a nurse peering down at him.

“young man… you know you aren’t supposed to be here,” she says, voice firm but eyes at the very least understanding as she keeps her voice at a whisper. “go back to the waiting room. you’ll get to see her eventually. okay?”

garroth swipes a hand over the back of his neck, the cold sweat making him shiver as he stands. his eyes are glassed over as he nods, stumbling back to the stairwell without another word.

©starhvney 2024. do not plagiarize, feed to any AI, or repost my works to any sites.

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