Y'all may know I have this SPM AU called For Whom The Bell Tolls that says fuck you to all love themes to his original/prequel game (FWTBT isn't gonna be a game because Nintendo hates that+no skill or time💔) and makes it more based around trauma since that kind of stuff is super interesting, and a few of characters there are evil or revived/come-back evil characters (Dimentio) that still has some obvious mental issues but I don't want to do it to do it to woobify those characters but still want to show that it isn't easy to be like that, I already know to keep his trickery and his mischievous side, also to show the consequences of his very BAD actions but do you know what else I can do???
This will also apply to other characters/OCs that are villains or just mostly bad people, I just need the knowledge 🙏
TL;DR, how do I make a villain/bad person show their trauma without making it seem shoehorned in or woobifying them?
This is the end of the first road, guys. But don’t worry! We still have a roadtrip ahead of us! We’ve got two more stories to go before this series is over!
However, school is starting up, and while I plan to continue to work hard on writing it up, I’m not quite sure when Book Two will be coming out. I do already have it planned out in its entirety, but it is longer than Book One by bullet points alone.
In the meantime-- why not join in on Maxaac Week? This ship hasn’t been getting enough love lately, and I think we need to change that! ;D It would mean the world to me to see other people making maxaac shipping stuff, so please be sure to participate, even if I’m not sure I can yet!
I also wanted to thank everyone who’s been reviewing and talking to me via asks about FWTBT. This project has been in my mind and planned out for a long while now, so it means a whole lot to me that I was able to write it and post it and see that people enjoyed it! Finding people that delight in angst and hurt/comfort the way you do is a rare, and valuable, experience, and I hope that everyone who’s been reading will enjoy Book Two just as much! <3
Also on AO3 and Fanfiction.net!
Summary: When monsters start to invade Mayview, the morality of the connection between a medium and their spirit comes into question. Is killing a spirit any different from taking the life of another human? Relationships between club members become strained, and if Max thought the club was coming apart before, it certainly is now.
It was only around a half an hour later that the other spectrals flooded in. Guerra's backup arrived in the nick of time, ramming through the front doors, trampling over what monsters remained and taking them out, one by one in a battle reminiscent of the wars in Spender's history books. The halls turned nightmares became war-zones, and there wasn't a single wing or hallway or classroom that wasn't being flipped, toppled over, destroyed as trained spectrals clashed against human-spirit hybrid monstrosities. Other spectrals, with powers less offensive and more defensive, led each saved student and teacher out the closest exits, roping them all into single-file lines. There were no casualties, and everyone was thankful for that, but every student in the school, and every teacher, would be walking away from Mayview Middle that day with a scar they'd never heal. Agent Day herself concluded that she'd be speaking to each individual survivor- after all, she was there to look for monsters, and it was clear that this was only the beginning of a war; there'd be more.
And it was his fault.
Isaac grimaced and leaned against the wall near the infirmary door, not quite comfortable standing there with all of them while Isabel was getting her shoulder patched up. They didn't want him in there, so he'd stay away like he should.
"Don't do it."
Isaac raised his head as Dimitri cracked open the infirmary door just wide enough to slip out. They made eye-contact, a rare moment when Dimitri seemed to be asking for permission. When Isaac said nothing, he shut the door behind him and came to lean against the wall by his side, ignoring the tension floating about in the heavy air.
"Do what?"
Dimitri stuck his hands in his pockets. "Quit the club."
Isaac snorted and Dimitri set one foot against the wall. "I'm serious. It was the worst decision I ever made." He shrugged, and Isaac pretended to be focusing on the door to the classroom in front of him, hoping he'd just shut up and leave. When he didn't, Isaac looked in the other direction; hearing what he didn't want to was enough. "Don't get me wrong, I love Suzy and Collin, but there's this whole side to me they don't get, you know?"
Isaac bit back how they'd probably get it now, because they knew everything; they still wouldn't understand, and he knew that. They still didn't have tools and they still weren't mediums. They could hear about their world but they'd never see it. Whatever. Dimitri would likely rejoin the club- he'd have no reason to stay away anymore, but Isaac still felt guilty for ever putting him in a position that he'd had to. Isaac looked to his feet again, but still said nothing. Dimitri sighed heavily and turned back around, opening and entering the infirmary to join the rest of the club again. Isaac watched as the smallest crack between the door and the threshold shut, then turned around and walked away.
There was something he had to do.
Max was snickering at her, and she didn't like it. "What." He only grinned more.
"Nothing. You just look so helpless sitting on that table getting your shoulder patched up."
"Oh, bite me."
Spender stepped forward, brows furrowed. He'd been worrying his lip for the better part of fifteen minutes, and the elderly nurse was yet to do anything to settle him down. "Now, now, she's fine. The wound is deep, but it isn't fatal." The whole room sighed, some of them, like Max, unaware they'd been as nervous as Spender had been until they heard the wound wasn't fatal. Dimitri chose that moment to re-enter, looking awfully downtrodden for having just been in the bathroom. "I do suggest taking her to the hospital, however. She will need stitches."
"Again?" Isabel threw her head back and groaned.
"So I have to ask," Max mumbled, and the attention of the room shifted to him from where he lounged haphazardly against the nurse's chair and desk. "Are we going to be arrested again?"
Spender shook his head. "I don't believe we will." Reaching over, he set both hands over the nurse's ears, who hardly even noticed as he proceeded to clean out Isabel's wound. "The Consortium does have agents within that sector. BL won't be pleased that she has to clean this mess up, but the odds that we'll be pursued again are slim." His eyes narrowed behind his glasses. "However, covering up Mayview will be much more difficult. I doubt the students and teachers attacked today won't be going home to tell their families. We're going to have to do a lot of housekeeping before all of this is over. Things in Mayview are going to change pretty fast."
Isabel glanced over at Ed, who'd taken to sitting on the windowsill and swinging his legs back and forth. He'd been, perhaps, as outwardly worried as Spender was, and had all but hoisted her to the nurse's office, with Dimitri's help, against her will. Anything he'd been worried about seemed to drop off the face of the earth the moment they knew she'd be okay. He was acting like himself again, like Ed again. "So," She smiled, and he looked up at her from his swinging legs. "It's probably a good idea that you stick around our dojo a little longer then, right?"
He didn't respond with surprise the way she thought he might. He only watched her face, his once relaxed face falling to a frown.
Max must have been the only one capable of reading a room, because he jumped up from his seat and clasped his hands together. "Okay!" He used one hand to tug Spender's sleeve as his other arm wrapped around Dimitri's shoulders. "I think we should find Suzy and Collin and Isaac, who are probably off being mentally scarred and moody, respectively, somewhere else!" Spender waved his free arm around, fumbling over himself as Max dragged him out of the room, while Dimitri seemed subdued, though puzzled.
Isabel's smile fell when Ed sighed and moved on the windowsill so that he was sitting closer to her. Something about the movement seemed cautious, like he was trying to pacify a lion. The room was quiet without the rest of the club there, and even the nurse seemed oblivious to their conversation, which was all well and good- if he hadn't, she'd might've had to convince him to mind his own business. Ed met her eyes again, lips thinning into a line, eyes narrowing. He looked different, more confident, than usual. "Isabel, this is something I have to do."
That wasn't what she wanted to hear. "Why? You have Grandpa! He's willing to teach you, right?"
"I'm not learning from Master Guerra." Something inside of her twisted to hear him being so formal. She couldn't remember the last time he'd referred to him as anything but "Old Man" in her presence, and she wasn't sure she liked his tone.
He sounded sorry.
"And I've learned a lot from Master Hashimoto."
She grimaced. It was true, she had a feeling he wouldn't have come home Wednesday night if it wasn't, but she still didn't like it, and some desperate part of her wanted him to be lying again. If he was telling her the truth, if he meant a word of what he was saying, then-!
Isabel spit it out the moment the thought occurred to her. "Then I'll follow you!"
Ed looked concerned for a moment, brows furrowing at her. "Master Guerra would never allow that."
"I don't care!"
"Isabel-"
"Why are you so bent on leaving me?" Ed stopped before he could say whatever it was he was going to say, and she was thankful for just a moment; she didn't want to hear it. She felt the stinging behind her eyes rising again, and rising, and it was hot and so hard to hold back on right then, but she wouldn't cry. "I've already lost Eightfold, and now you want to leave me, too? You're my best friend! You're supposed to be here! You're supposed to stay with me! How could you just up and decide the dojo isn't good enough for you anymore? Do you know how selfish that is?" Ed frowned and reached out to her, brushing the nurse's hands away before he pulled her into his arms. She stuck her head in his shoulder, trembling with the tears she refused to let fall, squeezing her eyes tight and fisting her hands in his jacket, tugging him closer. "How am I supposed to just let you leave? I don't- I don't know what I'm supposed to do without you! You've been there my whole life..."
Ed ran a hand down her hair, using the other to rub circles into her back as he pressed his cheek to her head. It didn't help. It wasn't enough. She wanted him to stay. He had to stay.
"Isabel." She didn't want to hear it. "I promise you I'll come back." She stiffened. Ed pulled her closer, squeezing her with so much strength, she swore he was someone else entirely, but it still, somehow, felt like Ed. He was warm, and he was familiar. "I promised myself that I'd become a man worthy of the Guerra name, and that's what I'm going to do."
Isabel stayed still for a moment, letting his words process.
He pressed a kiss to her head, and just like that, she was squeezing him alive.
"Wait, wait, wait. Let me get this straight." Spender chuckled to himself as Max gestured enthusiastically, if not overdramatically, at Dimitri, who was smirking to himself. "You were a spectral, and you were in the club?"
"Yep."
Max frowned, and waved his hands from his chest to his shoulders. "So then why did you quit?"
Dimitri sighed and shook his head. "That's a story for another time, my man."
Max groaned for an extended period of time. "That is so annoying!" Seemed he didn't quite get the irony there. He continued mumbling for a few minutes about how "everything had to be a mystery with them" among other, semi-truthful, observations.
"I have to agree with Dimitri for the moment, Max," Spender gave them a smile as they arrived at the club room door, reaching into his pocket and digging around for his key. "We've all had a long day, it's best we rest up and-" He paused upon realizing that, instead of unlocking the door, he'd locked it. "Well… that's odd. I thought for sure I locked it after school on Wednesday?" He turned it the other way and unlocked it again before pressing the door open.
Inside, the lights were on, and Spender took a moment of pause upon entering the room. Max and Dimitri stood behind, blinking with a mix of confusion and suspicion. "That's even odder. I know for a fact that I shut the lights off?" He motioned for his students to stay put and strode over to the middle of the room. He glanced around, aura gathered at his hands, before ultimately deciding there didn't appear to be a hidden threat. "Well," He straightened up and readjusted his tie, not that there was much use to appearances after their battle with the monsters. They would all have to take very long, very soapy, baths when they got home. "I suppose I was mistaken. I must have been rather absent-minded that night."
"What's that?" Dimitri pointed to a folded piece of paper sitting atop Spender's desk, away from the piles and piles of papers, looking definitively not like homework or a test.
Spender walked over and picked it up, humming. "That's a good question."
Max and Dimitri hardly had a second to exchange a look before Spender slammed it down on the desk and bolted for the door. They stepped back into the hallway and he threw his hand out, gesturing to the rest of the school. "Find Isaac, now!"
Max shook his head in bewilderment, while Dimitri appeared guarded. "What? Why?"
Dear Mister Spender, or Activity Club, or I guess whoever is reading this…
I know I messed up. I know there's no going back on that. Honestly, none of this has really been your fault. I've been so mad at you for keeping secrets but…
"Isaac!" Max's voice was hoarse, and he'd been running through the streets for what must have been an hour, but there was no time to waste. The sun was setting over the city, and he could feel daylight slipping from his fingers as each minute passed. Night would fall soon, and so would any chance of finding their stupid, oblivious storm cloud. Their mascot.
"Isaac!" Dimitri's voice echoed his panic, albeit from a distance. They'd split up somewhere down the hill, hoping to cover more ground that way. From the way things were going, they hadn't done much. "Isaac!"
"Isaac!" Max stopped for a moment to catch his breath, bending over with his hands at his knees. "Isaac! Where the heck are you?" He wasn't expecting an answer, and that was what bothered him more than anything, the thought that maybe he never would get one. His heart was pounding painfully against his chest, and he knew all too well it wasn't the running that'd done it. Panic had taken all of him over, familiar and gripping so firmly on his mind that it consumed every thought, maybe for a long time, and there was only one thing that would stifle it. He grunted and continued down the hill again. "Isaac!"
The truth is that you started keeping secrets for a reason. I hurt Dimitri, could have hurt all of you, too. I had no right to be mad at you for keeping me at an arm's length. I earned that, and I forgot that. Now all of Mayview is going to know that spectrals exist because I couldn't control my temper, just like before. You guys have every right to hate me, but that sad thing is that, even now, I don't think you do.
Spender bursted through the door of the infirmary, screams so desperate that any threat from the tone was void. Isabel and Ed were up and on their feet before he could even explain why he was so hysterical, because somewhere they'd been feeling uneasy, too. Spender all but tore the keys to his car out of his pocket as they sped down the staircase two steps at a time, grimacing and grinding his teeth because it felt like he couldn't do anything fast enough.
The phone rang, and rang, and rang, but nobody answered. Usually he wouldn't have been risking a hand off the wheel, but the call was too important not to make. Isabel and Ed were glued to the back windows of the car, hands pressed to the glass, and usually he'd worry they'd leave a smudge, but nobody was picking up and he tried and tried and tried, and nothing else was on his mind. "Hello, you've reached The O'Connor residence. We can't come to the phone right now-" He cut the call short, grinding his teeth together.
I wanted you to hate me. I thought it was the only way to get you all to see me as something other than the club mascot… but you probably still do. I can't make you guys care about me, and it was ridiculous to think I ever would. I deserve worse than that. I deserve what you've been giving me this whole time. I went back on everything I believe in for the sake of hurting you back when I was the one who started it. For that, I have to pay.
"Isaac!"
Max and Dimitri had long since abandoned the area around the school. It was obvious he was long gone- Max winced- at least from the school grounds. Dimitri reasoned that he couldn't have gone far, that he'd spoken to Isaac only minutes before they'd left the infirmary, that he wasn't that far ahead of them, but Max had the nagging feeling he was only trying to do the logical thing, the doctor thing- keep everyone calm, but Max wasn't interested in being placated like a scared animal.
They'd come together at the end of the diverging road between the neighborhood Max lived in and the rest of town, and separated again when there was another fork near the fenced off side of another hill. Dimitri went right, he went left.
What I've done is inexcusable, and I know that. I've betrayed what little trust you all had in me, and in the process, I managed to hurt Suzy and Collin, and even the rest of the school. People are in pain now, and it's all my fault. Because I couldn't take the blame like I should have, I stepped way out of line and broke my own oath. Well, now I'm ready.
Spender hit on the brakes as another car drove by the red light, nearly ramming their car at the side. He was slamming on the horn as soon as his body was done lurching forward and back. Isabel and Ed croaked and tugged at their seatbelts at the sudden jolt. The other car drove off, and Spender grimaced. "Hold on!" They were off the moment his foot snapped off the break, his other pressing down on the gas pedal. Dimitri and Max had one side of town covered, but there was so much town to cover, and only so much time before-
His hand clenched around the steering wheel.
Before I do this, I wanted to say I'm sorry.
Suzy shivered, and Collin frowned, reaching up to grab one of the coats from the Lost & Found from where they sat below the front office desk. "Are you cold?"
She frowned and reached both hands up to rub at her shoulders, uncertain if the sudden disappearance of heat had anything to do with the setting sun. She wouldn't have been surprised if one of those things had managed to knock out the whole of the heating/air conditioning system. "I must be…"
He set the coat over shoulders and pulled either part of the front together for her, for which she thanked him in the smallest of voices. He nodded.
"Hey, Collin?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you think Isaac's okay?"
He glanced at her, an eyebrow raised.
I swear to you guys: I will never hurt anyone like this again. I will never do to anyone else what I've done to you. All of the pain I caused you, all of the mistakes I made…
Isabel and Ed had rolled down the windows and he hadn't even noticed. "Isaac!" It was hard to hear them over the harsh winds blowing through the car, through their hair, through them. Isabel had once hand cupped over her mouth, while Ed was busying himself painting up a megaphone. Spender scrunched his nose as the cold of the evening settled over him.
I'm going to fix them.
Max took a deep breath, hands clenching, cheeks filling to their very limit with air, and then let it out with the loudest intentions he could muster.
"Isaac!"
There was no answer, only the quiet of the city, the low hustle and bustle of everyday life going on all around him. The loss of air made him dizzy, and he all but fell back into his knees, hands pressed to his legs as he hunched over and gathered as much air as he could. In and out, to the flow of the sounds of the river running by, he swallowed clumps of air, forcing down the reflex to cough or dry heave. His legs were numb with dull pain, and his sides were burning and there was a sharp pain in his lungs- he knew he'd pushed his body too far, but he had to.
He had to.
"You overdramatic little…" he mumbled to himself when he found the breathing room, raising the back of his wrist to wipe at the sweat rolling down his chin. Isaac, what are you even thinking? With a sigh, he straightened up and readjusted his cap by the wing, intending fully to continue his search. He thought hard about calling him again, but every call Spender made earlier had gone straight to voicemail, and he had a feeling it'd happen again if he tried. Max growled, grip tightening around his cap. He didn't even know where Isaac lived! He ripped it from his head and tossed it on the ground with a cry, frustration overwhelming him the way every other emotion had that hour, burning in his cheeks, twisting in his stomach. "Where are you?"
He reached down to pick his cap back up, but paused upon observing the green grass below him…
… and the sound of running water.
His eyes widened as he shot back up, absentmindedly placing his cap back on his head as he realized where he was, images of Garcia floating idly by and Johnny hitting his head against a rock and Isaac straight-up kicking lightning at a spirit running through his mind. That meant-!
I guess this is goodbye. Thanks for keeping me around while you did.
- Isaac
"Young Master Isaac, please!" Doorman was hunched over, hands together, fingers twiddling, sweat bunching up at the top of his reflective head. "There must be some other way!"
"There's not." Isaac frowned and fumbled with the key in his hand, the one that lead to the clubroom. It'd done him good in two years, not that it would be doing him much good from the on. Even so, he planned to hold onto it. It would be a reminder, should he ever need one. He had a feeling he wouldn't, after all the guilt would follow him forever, but it'd be nice to have something… precious. It wouldn't just serve as a physical manifestation of his mission, but as a piece of his past, a piece of the home he knew he'd never see again- the home he no longer had any part of. "I thought about it."
"Are you" Doorman paused and leaned closer, expressionless face inches from Isaac's disheartened one "sure about this, Isaac?"
"I am." He sighed and stuck the clubroom's key into the pocket at his chest before reaching into the back pockets of his jeans. "I need to atone for what I've done."
Doorman pulled back, twiddling hands calming and settling at his chest. He was still worried, Isaac could hear it in his voice, but his concern didn't change what needed to be done; he had to remind himself of that. "You already have…"
Isaac shook his head, meeting Doorman eye-to-lidded-eye, fighting back the urge to run face-first into his towering body and bury his head into his chest. Doorman was trying to cheer him up, but what was done was done, if the calls he'd gotten from Spender were any indication. He'd ignored them each time, but it had, admittedly, chipped away at his resolve, much like Doorman was. "Thank you for saying that, but I… I haven't. I'm not the agent of justice like I pretended to be. I've done nothing but hurt people and make myself an agent of fraud." Doorman didn't make a sound, but he could almost see the disagreeing frown forming figuratively across his knob. "Not only have I endangered the secret of the spectral world and everyone in Mayview," he swallowed there, pressing back against the lump forming in his throat "but I've betrayed the people I…" he squeezed his eyes shut. "... the people I love, more than anything in this whole world." He took his hand from his back pocket, holding the keys from Maybury he'd borrowed from one unsuspecting, and probably confused, scientist at the base. He held them out so Doorman could see them. "Now I'm going to spend the rest of my life making up for it."
Doorman was silent, watching him contemplatively. Isaac wasn't going to say anything to interrupt his train of thought- Doorman knew there would be no stopping him, he just had to let him settle on whether or not he'd help him carry out his new oath or hinder him. They stood there, watching each other, unmoving. It was only after another moment that Doorman exhaled and hung his head.
"If this is truly what you want, Young Master Isaac."
He nodded. "It is."
Doorman reached out and set a hand on his shoulder, surprisingly calm and comforting compared to the mess he'd been when Isaac filled him in. The hold was familial, almost, and Isaac took a moment to suck it all in. After all…
This would be the last time they'd meet.
"You are a good person, Isaac." When he spoke, Doorman's voice was rocky, cracking as his hold on his shoulders tightened. "I wish I had more time with you, but I can see in your heart that you no longer need my guidance. You have chosen a path of nonviolence, and though I ache deeply to see you go, know that I am proud of you for the person you will become." If he could have cried, Isaac was sure he would have. With a start, Isaac raised a hand to his cheek, finding with no small pain that he'd started to.
"It's thanks to you!" He sniffled and wiped at both eyes, teeth shining through his watery grin. "It really is. If I didn't have you, I think" he laughed and brought his hands down so that Doorman could see his face, his genuine, smiling face. "- I know things would have been worse for me. If I just had the blowhard in my ear all day, we'd probably be in a very different place, huh?" Doorman hummed, and he could hear the smile in the sound of it. Isaac wiped at his eyes again, one last time, and nodded through his tears. He'd have time to cry later- now, he needed to go. "Thank you, Doorman. Thank you for everything."
"Of course, Isaac." His hands parted from his shoulders. "If you ever need me again," he pointed to Isaac's heart- more importantly, to the key in the pocket there. "You know how to find me."
Isaac's brows furrowed, and he wanted to ask how that could work, since he could only open a portal by sticking a key directly into Doorman, but he shrugged it off. He must have just meant his heart- his memories, and he could live with that.
Doorman bent down so that he could stick the Maybury key in, and with a deep breath, Isaac did.
Doorman's face grew bright, and he leaned backwards with one hand reaching up to his shoulder. Isaac held one arm up and covered his eyes as the light grew brighter, squeezing one shut as Doorman pulled back his coat and revealed the dark portal to the other side of the barrier. Night had fallen, and he figured he shouldn't have expected anything else, but he still felt surprised at how dim the door was.
With one last smile Doorman's way, and an appreciative glance when he passed him back the keys, he took his first steps toward his future.
Then he stopped.
He was bent on his new oath, bent on atoning by spending the rest of his days doing good in a place far away, but some part of him was screaming right then, begging him, pleading with him, to turn around, just for a moment. It reached out from the skin of his back, clawing at the mansion, and the city, he was leaving behind. It was akin to the feeling of forgetting something, and being lost as to what. The feeling itched, filling him with the faintest idea that he'd know what he was missing if he just turned around.
Isaac closed his eyes, inhaled, exhaled, and stepped right through the portal.
Doorman shut the portal behind him, closing his coat and letting the once open door fill to the brim with metaphorical brick.
There was a sudden, heavy sound of steps up stairs, and then they were heavier against the creaking floor of the old abandoned mansion. Doorman glanced up to find Max at the doorway, panting. His eyes were wide, panicked, shoulders heaving with every haul of air he took. Doorman could see him staring him down, see the question he didn't dare ask. Without a word, Doorman's sorrowful gaze fell to the floor.
Max slid limply, lifelessly, down the threshold to his rear, leaning back against the doorframe with such disbelief, so much denial, Doorman knew Isaac had already made another mistake.
Stepping out into the other side, Isaac quickly came to the conclusion the borrowed keys had been house-keys. He'd stepped into the living room near the front door of someone's home, dark without so much as the TV on, enough to suggest there was either no family to speak of, that they'd taken longer than normal to get a new pair of keys molded, or that they'd all already headed off to bed for the night. Isaac glanced at his watch. 8:30. He shrugged. That wasn't too odd, he supposed. As the portal closed behind him, he turned around and grabbed the handle, reaching up to untwist the lock. When he opened the door, a quiet suburban neighborhood greeted him, as dark as the night could be aside from the occasional lit home and the streetlamps down the street. He set the borrowed keys on the coffee table to the side with the plant sitting atop, and walked out into the world, careful to shut the door behind him quietly.
"Max!"
He'd gotten home a quarter past 9:00, and he hadn't had a lot of time to settle back into the idea that he was actually home by the time his dad was launching from where'd he'd been standing near the corner store phone, their home phone. Two warm hands were all over his face the moment he stepped foot through the sliding doors, murmuring and asking questions too fast for Max to answer. He frowned and shut his eyes, leaning into the touch.
"Where have you been? I heard your school was attacked by… by these monsters and I- I assumed the worst! Is this blood on your clothes? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Dad, I'm…." He sighed.
If he was surprised by Max slowly wrapping his arms around him in a strained, almost grateful, hug, he didn't show it. Max found himself locked between his dad's arms, squeezing him close like he was a little boy again, like everything that'd happened in the last two or three weeks had all been a nightmare he could run from, run straight into the protective presence of a parent. He knew too well he'd have to explain everything when the hold was over, but for the moment, he was going to bask in the love and security he'd thought he'd never feel again.
"Dad?"
"Yeah?"
He dug his head into his chest. "I'm not ready for you to date again."
There was a sigh, but it wasn't heavy. If anything, he heard relief. "All right, then." He held Max closer, raising one hand behind his head before pressing a long, overwhelmed, exhausted, loving kiss to the side of his head.
Zoe watched silently from the staircase, one hand to her heart, eyes welling with tears she used her other hand to wipe stubbornly at, smiling and taking deep breaths for so, so very many reasons. Pj hovered beside her, grinning to himself and to Lefty as they watched over the Puckett family.
"That should get their tiny, blind minds working."
A figure, cloaked from head to toe in black, strode along a dark cave, shifting to fly just above the ground to avoid the mess he'd found upon entering what he'd since claimed as his lair. The monsters were stupid, and messy, but they'd done him well yet, and were easy enough to train.
One amber eye, pupil thin and vertical, watched over the cliff where the tides of the ocean shifted below, falling along the jagged edges of sharp rocks and the crash of each wave against the cave wall. "It's been so long… and they do say wisdom comes with age." He was grinning, teeth long and sharp, brushing against his irregular skin and its patterns. "Perhaps, they'll be willing to listen this time."
Some info about SWAP!Narinder’s relationship with his cult if anyone CARES!!!
Swap!Narinder’s flock (The Glaring) probably dissents more than Lamb’s & Goat’s as he’s a lot more HARSH, as obedience and respect is commanded above all else with pretty strict rules and brutal punishments. Dissenters, depending on the severity of their actions, are either scared back into faith or are made examples (aka, they are sacrificed, or in more recent times they given to The Carillonneur as chew toys)
Though his status is less viewed as an actual leader and more so a cold & unforgiving father, so much so that one of his titles IS ‘Father.’ He leans into this idea himself, viewing the Glaring as children that he must guide with his idea of a good parent (‘tough love’ is used a lot.) Though he also partly leans into it because it’s a way to capitalise on the majority of the Glaring’s need of belonging, as rescues probably had their own families slaughtered. Familial relationships are a big aspect of the FWTBT au & they’re very important to Narinder himself
Recently, he’s been trying to attempt at gentle parenting and has begun to encourage free will and get rid of the stigma he had previously put in place of questioning him (he’s not very good at it but he’s getting there).
