Legal Disclaimer: I own my stuff, but not the original source material. That belongs to whoever. Also, the opinions and interpretations I use here may not reflect the same in said whoever that owns the source material. Look, I'm just a poor college librarian. Suing me isn't going to get you anything but tears.
Warning: This work may be offensive to some readers. Additionally, there is kidnapping, endangered children, and harm to multiple characters, one of which is a child. Feel free to back out if need be.
Author's Note: The parent in me spent the entirety of this screaming in terror at what was happening. The parent in me also recognized that tiny children really aren't any less feral than when they were toddlers.
Special Note: No lasting harm comes to any of the kids. Now, the kidnapper might have some trauma to sort through.
Submitting Info:
Stacked with: Hogwarts 2.0 (Post-T01); RAVEN (2023); MC4A (Wi-Y6)
Individual Challenges: Red Instead (Y); Straight Outta Myth; Condiment Shelf; Missing Link; Pet Food; Vegetable Broth; Coupons; Gift Wrapped; Fruit Stand; Purple Scholar; Feather Head; Family Trip; Magical MC; New Fandom Smell; Cinematic; Binger; Alpha & Omega; Feathers & Such; Tiny Terror [x4]; Tossed Chum [x2]; Nonhuman MC [x3]; Shifter MC [x2]; Ethnic & Present [x3]; Neurodivergent; Rian-Russo Inversion [x3]; Short Jog; Bucket Listing; The Story Goes On; Eating Cake (Y); Exchange (Y); Greatest Gift; Green Ribbon; Two Cakes (Y); Crack Addict; Claimed; Growers; Outer; Zed Era; Rainbow Connection; Hold the Mayo
Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw
Assignment: Post-Term 01
Subject [Task (Prompt)]: n/a
Other Hogwarts Challenges: Gather [Bonus 9 (Monk)](someone confident in their abilities)
RAVEN Challenges: Colors [01](Amber); Items [151](Wine Bottle); Settings [59](Farm)
Other MC4A Challenges: Chim [Bugwort]("The Anonymous Ones" – Dear Evan Hansen; Turned Left Instead AU; Race Bend); Hunt [Fa WD (Catholicism); Fa Set (Orchard); Fa Con (Apple); Fa Items (Button/Pin); Wi Con (Wine)]; Fire [x3](Green Acres); Garden [Zinnias (Dandelion); Gnome Army (Jacket); Remember (Ranch/Farm); Aya's Trinity Blend (Fruit); Zoology (Wolf); Soils (Orchard)]; Harvest [C&CT (Jewish; Magical; Younger than 8yo); Descriptions (Dandelion; Flamingo Pink; Wet); R&E (Classmates; Law Enforcement); Set (Forest/Woods); Tropes (Just Desserts)]; Hang [Phrase#2](n/a); Soup [S (Siblings); O (Orange); L (Laughing); T (Tactile); I (Innocence)]; Shop [Phys (Major Respiratory Issue]; Swap [Shoes (Hot Pink Converse); Bottoms (Plaid School Skirt; Smiley Face Yoga Pants); Tops (Tourist Souvenir Shirt); Outerwear (Violet Windbreaker)]
Representation(s): Mieczysław "Stiles" Stilinski; Scott McCall; Cora Hale; Jackson Whittemore; Kid Fic; Kidnapping & Rescue
Primary & Secondary Bonus Challenges: Bog Beast; Hot Stuff; Mermaid; Second Verse (Ladylike; Not a Lamp; Persistence Still; Nontraditional; Middle Name; Unwanted Advice; For the Vine; Lovely Coconuts; Trickster's Union; Most Human Bean; Muck & Slime; Hot Apple; Dog Star; Queen Bean; Under the Bridge; Where Angels Fear); Chorus (Odd Feathers; Pear-Shaped; Wabi Sabi; Machismo; Peddling Pots; Mouth of Babes; Tomorrow's Shade; A Long Dog; Eternal Boredom; Larger than Life; Unicorn; Creature Feature; Abandoned Ship; Head of Perseus; In the Trench; Surprise!; Turtle-Duck; Sitting Hummingbird; Some Beach; Getting On)
Tertiary & Generic Bonus Challenges: T3 (Thimble); SN (Rail; Ameliorate); O3 (Orator; Ox); SHoE (Brood); War (Orator; Sanctuary); Mea (Zymurgy; Rampant); Wings (Bower); Share (Ameliorate; Dragoman; Augur); DP (Yearn)
Space Address (Prompt): FaB [2B](Running/Jogging); Set [3D](Icy); Wi [2C](In an Orchard); Vocab [1B](Juggle);
Word Count: 2161 words
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Bugs Would Be Proud
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Mischief reached out to balance Scott at the top of the climbing dome. He himself was already sitting with his feet dangling through the topmost hole. Scott couldn't climb as fast because his lungs were rude things that liked protesting everything. It was chance that Mischief happened to notice movement in the nearby play field near the far edge where the woods started.
Some dark figure was carrying a flailing Jackson away into the woods.
Daddy had drilled into Mischief what he needed to do if anyone tried to abduct him. Mama had added her own advice. But it was clear that either Jackson didn't know how to do those things or that something else was preventing him. It was also clear that neither of the teachers assigned to monitor recess had noticed what was happening so far out from the main playground and surrounding blacktop.
"Scotty," Mischief said as he shifted his grip on his friend. His mind whirled with everything he was sorting and planning. He was good at making plans. Mama always said he was, even when those plans didn't always work out. "Scotty, you need to go tell a teacher that Jax is being stolen through the woods."
"But we're not allowed to go there," Scott whined. He still started to climb back down. Mischief shook his head at Scott, but didn't take the time to argue the point.
The woods were out of bounds, but the field wasn't, even if not a lot of people used it when it had been as rainy as this February had been. Mostly it was just a grassy mud pit. Mischief knew that Jackson had probably been dragged out there by Danny, mostly likely to play tag, because Danny liked to run fast. Jackson might hate getting dirty but he did like it when Danny was happy.
None of which really mattered because Jackson wasn't going into the woods on his own. He was being kidnapped. Someone needed to follow them to be a witness; Daddy always said that eyewitnesses were key in abductions. Someone also had to tell the adults what was happening. The teachers would probably believe Scott more, because he had eyes like a puppy, and it was better if he didn't leave the playground, because his inhaler was in the nurse's office.
Instead of climbing down over the dome, Mischief dropped through the hole. He landed on the wood mulch that lined the area. Deputy Tara had taught him how to land when dropping from a height greater than his height. Mischief still wasn't very good at it, and he ended up tumbling forward. He dusted off the mulch parts with an impatient hand as he stood again.
Mischief was darting out across the field before Scott had even managed to get back down to the ground. He transitioned into a ground-eating lope as he reached the middle of the field. The wind whistled in his ears as he ran. He still noticed when someone fell into step just behind him.
Whoever it was had no issue keeping pace with him, even as they stayed just behind him but slightly to the left. When they reached the treeline and had to change stride because of the thin forest paths, they matched the new one as well. It couldn't be Danny or Scott, because Mischief knew that both boys weren't able to run without making some noise. Scott couldn't match the pace at all because it would have sent him into an attack already, and Danny just wasn't very good at being sneaky. At a fork in the path, Mischief had to pause to assess which one to follow.
He was not surprised to see that Cora Hale was there, not even a little out of breath. She had a plaid skirt in the colors for their school over yoga pants with dandelion yellow smiley faces on them. Her shirt was the garish hunter orange tee with the words Beacon Hills in royal purple letters along with the three claw lines of that the local tribe in inky black. The converse on her feet were hot flamingo pink. Her windbreaker was a bright violet and covered with buttons that had different pokemon on them. She had to have at least a third of the list.
And despite all that, she didn't seem to stick out any in the woods around them.
"They're headed towards the old Carsen farm," she said in a low tone. Her head was tilted towards the branch of the path that would lead there. The sun filtered through the trees at the right angle to make her eyes seem to glow amber. She nodded sharply as if agreeing with herself and took point down the path with him following.
Mischief decided that it didn't matter that it was Cora who had become something of a sore tooth to him. There was something about the girl that drew him in and made it to where he could never just ignore her like he tended to do to anyone who wasn't Scott. At the same time, whenever he spent any time with her, he would feel sad and tired for hours afterwards. It hurt when she left, and he didn't like that he didn't know why.
Still, there was something that felt right about having the girl with him as he chased after Jackson. Despite everything else, Cora Hale had a steady feel to her. She definitely knew how to handle herself. She never started fights, of course, but she never backed down from one either. Mischief had a feeling that it was because she had two older siblings to tussle with, even if one of them had left for college.
He grabbed her arm as they broke out of the tree line onto the tractor path around the Carsen orchard. She turned towards him with a frown that he knew was seconds away from turning into a snarl. He held up a finger in front of his lips before dragging her to behind a small wooden fence that bracketed a metal barrel that was probably used as a trashcan during apple picking season. Right then it was half full of rain water and fallen leaves that smelled like a peat bog. There was also a half-full wine bottle including cork floating in the smelly water.
"Why are we stopping?" Cora demanded in a whisper. "They're right there!"
"Exactly," Mischief explained. "They're right there. We need to follow more carefully. Observe and report; do not engage unless absolutely necessary."
"Who put you in charge? I'm older than you."
"By three weeks," he argued, "and my dad told me all about what to do. He's gonna be sheriff after Sheriff Pecker retires, you know."
"The sheriff's name is Peaker," she corrected after a brief moment of silence. She looked like she was fighting off a giggle. "Does your dad really call him that?"
"Mama does," he said after a few rapid blinks. "Is his name really Peaker? Because Mama doesn't make mistakes."
Cora did let out a small giggle then. She immediately slapped both her hands over her mouth. Her skin, which was the same light tan as his own, looked especially dark next to the violet of her windbreaker. Again, the sunlight hit her eyes just right to make the light brown glow like Daddy's whiskey.
"I know Mommy doesn't like him," she said, dropping her hands to just under her chin. "She says his first name like it's something smelly." Her own nose wrinkled, making the slight turn up at the end even more noticeable. "But then it's a dirty word, too."
Mischief frowned. As far as he knew, the sheriff's first name was Richard. That wasn't a dirty word—
"What are you brats think you're doing?!"
Mischief and Cora both jumped at the sudden yell. As one, they turned to look at the very large man (he looked like someone who might play football or hockey) who was standing near them. He had a bald head but very mean eyebrows and thick sideburns that were both a dark blond. His exposed skin (of which there was a lot, because he wasn't wearing a shirt or a jacket) was a chapped red from the icy wind whipping through the trees. His blue eyes burned with barely contained rage. He also had Jackson dangling from a headlock. Jackson was clawing at the man's arm but it seemed to be doing nothing despite the red marks left behind.
"We're performing a citizen's arrest," Mischief announced. He drew his shoulders back and stood as tall as he could. Beside him, Cora did the same. She was taller than him, despite only being three weeks older. "You have the right to be silent, but you've gotta put Jackson down right now."
"You really think you're enough to save your friend?"
"Jackson is not our friend," Cora said. She spread her arms out to her sides like they were wings and she was about to take flight. "He's a jerk."
"But he's our jerk," Mischief added as he shifted onto his toes, "and we can't let you take him."
"What are you pipsqueaks gonna do about—"
"NOW!" Mischief ordered as he launched himself at the arm that the man had around Jackson's neck.
His nails were short because he had the habit of biting them when he was thinking. They definitely wouldn't be any more effective than Jackson's tidy manicured ones. So he focused on getting a decent grip on the man's thumb with one hand and into the man's elbow with the other one. And then gave into an instinct he didn't even realize that he had and sank his teeth into the meat of the man's forearm. He almost headbutted Jackson in the process.
The man let out a very loud roar. His arm swung away from his body, leaving Jackson to fall to the ground. Mischief tighten the grips that he had. A copper taste flooded his mouth as a pop sounded right beside his ear. The man shook the arm that Mischief was attached to. Suddenly he let out a high-pitched whine and went down to his knees.
Mischief tripped over Cora as he scrambled away once his feet were back on the ground. Jackson was gasping a few feet away. He already looked less red in the face, though he had some bruises where the man must have hit him. The man himself was kneeling in the middle of the path between the lines of apple trees. He now had both hands cupping his groin.
There was only one thing that would make this whole situation even more funny—
Mischief felt a burst of warmth in the center of his chest as the closest tree dropped a green and pink apple the size of both his fists put together right on top of the kidnapper's head. The man's eyes rolled back as he fell to the ground like one of Derek Hale's puppets with the strings cut. There was a moment when the only sound was their harsh breathing.
Then Cora snorted.
"Oh, moon," she said as she dissolved into a fit of giggles. "That's something out a Bugs Bunny cartoon. That's just—"
Cora was laughing too hard to continue. She wrapped both Mischief and Jackson in her arms as she just kept laughing about the situation. The boys couldn't help but catch her mirth. They huddled together as they laughed about it.
They were still laughing when the deputies found them a little while later. Mischief wasn't even mad when his dad scooped him up and kept a tight hand on the back of his neck while he tried to juggle three first-graders into the back of a police van while they told the whole story of how they arrested the bad guy who had tried to kidnap Jackson. He even apologized with Cora about calling Jackson a jerk. Daddy was right that it wasn't a nice thing to say, even if it was true.
He was mad about the confirmation that the sheriff's name was actually Peaker.
It was almost offset by the new knowledge of how to shorten Richard so that it was a dirty word.
"Names are weird," Cora said with a shrug as she snuggled with him and Jackson while they waited for their parents to finish paperwork so that they could all go home. (Something that seemed to be taking longer because of how their mothers were snapping at each other. The two alphas really didn't like each other.) She rubbed her cheek against Mischief's hair while her fingers trailed through Jackson's where he was resting his head on her lap.
"You think everything's weird."
"That's because it is."
"You're both weird," Jackson added. Cora squinted down at him.
"Your face is weird."
They exchanged looks between the three of them before bursting back into giggles.