#Fun fact state violence is still bad when brown people do it also fun fact white people don’t get to arbitrarily choose who to be racist to | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mrs-gucci · 3 years

Note

There seems to be a darker, more violent take on Clyde floating around right now and I LOVE it!! I’m working on one for him too!

Since you say open for darker requests, I’d love to hear your take on a more violent Clyde! He could be saving you from a stalker. Clyde can show him what a real bad ass can do and then show you how well he can treat you too lol! He could be protecting you from someone at the bar. He could be showing you his special forces skills after some gets aggressive. You name it lol!

Secrets of the Blood Moon {werewolf!Clyde x Reader darkfic}

author's notes: helloooo! my friend shannon, thank you for this request!! I am also a fan of the darker take on Clyde and I hope I did it some justice!! I worked really, really hard on this one, and I’m super pleased with how it turned out.

**PLEASE HEED THE DARKFIC WARNING!! THIS FIC INVOLVES SEVERAL VERY HEAVY AND VERY DARK THEMES, SO PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION!**

warnings: angst. smut. hurt/comfort. a minor car crash. mentions of alcohol consumption. rut. knotting. breeding kink. werewolf stuff. attempted mating bite. murder coverup. clyde feels guilty.

tw's: noncon touching (not by clyde). involuntary attempted sexual assault (werewolf clyde pins her down & dry humps w/o consent, but human clyde doesn’t know he did it nor would ever intend to do it). blood & gore. graphic depictions of murder and violence. human-hunting. depictions of human body consumption (is it cannibalism if he’s technically a wolf when it happens?). werewolf sex.

**this is a work of FICTION. the author does not attempt to condone the actions/behaviors of the characters written.**

word count: 5.9k

my taglist peeps: @frank-and-honey @shygirl268 @icarusinthesea @gildedstarlight (if you’d like to be added to or removed from my taglist, the link to the google form is HERE or on the top of my masterlist.)

Last Night

Stepping out of your car, you’re instantly suffocated by the thick humidity of the West Virginia evening. The sun paints cotton candy across the sky as it sets behind the trees on the mountainous horizon, the almost full moon hot on its tail, slowly rising on the other side of the sky.

The blood moon comes tomorrow, and from the old folk tales your mom used to tell about the deep West Virginia countryside, some weird shit goes down under the crimson moon. You never really believed her. What all could happen in lil ol’ Boone County, anyway?

The moment you step into the refreshing, air-conditioned Duck Tape, you’re immediately greeted by a loud call of your name.

“Y/N!” You smile and wave at Jimmy.

Clyde looks up and smiles at you as you come and sit down at the bar next to Jimmy. He serves the customer before coming over to talk with you and the eldest Logan.

You lean over the bar to give him a kiss, earning a couple hoots and hollers from the bar crowd, which made you both laugh as you pull away.

“How was work, buttercup?” He asks, wiping off some glasses. “Weren’t ya doin’ that one presentation today? How’d that go?”

You’re always so flattered that Clyde actually pays attention when you talk about work stuff. Most guys just smile and nod, but Clyde actually listens and remembers. He even remembered your one year anniversary at the company you currently work for, sending you takeout from your favorite place along with some flowers.

“Yeah, it was alright. Boring as hell, but the partners seemed pleased, so that’s all I can really ask for at this point.”

Both he a Jimmy give a small chuckle, nodding before Clyde mixes your favorite drink, setting it down in front of you a few minutes later. You thank him, and the three-way conversation continues before the bar door swings open.

Something about the man’s entrance makes you look over, already smelling trouble as he steps over the threshold. His eyes are glued on you, a smug smirk etched on his expression.

A hush falls over the patrons for a few seconds, all eyes on the leather-clad man. Clyde’s hackles are immediately up, body tense as the mystery man saunters over, plopping himself down onto the vacant stool next to yours.

Things on the floor continue as normal, the chatter picking back up, and you subtly scoot a little closer to Jimmy.

“Bartender?” A thick New York accent calls.

Clyde walks over, plastering a fake smile on his face, seemingly the epitome of southern hospitality.

“What can I getcha, sir?”

The man gives Clyde a once-over and snickers. “No, seriously, where’s the bartender? I’d like a drink.”

Your grip clenches around your glass. You absolutely hated it when people were dicks about Clyde’s hand.

“Seriously, I am the bartender.” He states firmly. “So, what can I get ya?”

His tone sends a chill down your spine. Normally, Clyde just shuts down whenever someone starts poking fun at his missing hand, but tonight, there was a certain air of frustration, of dominance.

You just thought he’d finally cracked, after years of dealing with this bullshit. But as you would learn, there was an alternate explanation for his sudden outwardly alpha-like behavior.

The guy seems to back off a little bit, just asking for a cold Coors straight from the bottle. You startle a bit when Clyde slams the bottle down on the counter in front of him, and you could swear his eyes turn a light grey for a second before returning to the dark brown pools you’re familiar with.

Everything’s quiet for a little while, the man sipping his beer in silence, before he turns to you. He doesn’t say anything at first, simply allowing his eyes to drink in your seated figure.

“What’s your name, baby girl?” The beer smell of his breath is strong as he leans in. “You lookin’ for someone to keep you company tonight?”

You roll your eyes. Douchebag. “Nope. I’m perfectly content just sitting here, thanks.”

Clyde’s watching the interaction like a hawk as he makes someone’s drink. It’s a wonder he can concentrate on the drink when his thoughts and eyes are glued to you.

His slimy hand touches down on your bare thigh, just above your knee, and you jump in your seat. He grins, trailing it up as he leans in even closer.

“Are you sure? I could show you a real good time...”

Glass shatters from behind the bar and then, Clyde’s grabbing the man by his biker jacket, tossing him onto the floor with an almost superhuman strength. You stand up, appalled, as the man on the hardwood scrambles to get up.

An icy grey begins to frost over his sweet chocolate irises as Clyde clenches his fists by his side.

“Don’t ya dare touch ma girl, ye pervert.” He growls, voice lower than you’ve ever heard it. “Someone ought to show ya what respect looks like.”

The bar has fallen pin-drop silent, all sets of eyes focused in on the developing scene. He cocks his fist above his head, snarling as he readies to pounce on the helpless man.

It’s then that Jimmy hops up and puts himself between the two men, holding his hands up in front of Clyde. “Don’t do this t’ yerself. Ye know what’ll happen if ya do.”

This seems to bring him back, the warmness flooding back to his irises. His shoulders slump as he huffs softly, pushing past his older brother angrily, storming into his office and slamming the door behind him.

Shakily, the man stands and puts a twenty down on the table before running out of the bar, bell jingling against the wooden door as it eases shut after him.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The rare blood moon hangs in its place against the pitch black sky as you pull up to the Logan’s trailer home. There aren’t any stars in the clear night’s sky, despite it being the dead of summer, but you don’t think much of it as you approach the shadowed porch.

Moths flutter around the dimly flickering porch light while you peek through the windows, which were as black as the night. Not a single light was on.

Odd. The Pontiac’s parked in its normal spot outside.

You flip the threadbare ‘welcome’ mat up, revealing the rusting gold key beneath. Sticking it in the lock, you turn until the door pops open, an eerie creak accompanying it.

"Clyde?” You say, looking around the trailer’s living room as you flip the living room lights on.

You call for him again. Maybe he’s just taking a nap. “Clyde?”

Still no response.

Now, you’re getting worried. There’s no note, nothing noticeably out of place; in fact, it’s almost all too still. It gives you the creeps, how still and quiet it is in here.

The scent of suspicion thickens the air around you, and you just get the most awful feeling in your gut that something bad is happening or is about to happen.

Adrenaline begins to pump through your veins as you quickly walk around, peeking in the kitchen, and in the spare room. The air seems to thicken again the closer to draw to Clyde’s room, and you push the door open with bated breath.

You’re absolutely mortified at the sight before you.

Shreds of carpet, fabric, and mattress stuffing is scattered the floor, and giant claw marks have torn straight through the drywall. The blankets and comforter, at least the remains of them, are disheveled where they lay across the clawed-up mattress.

His vanity mirror is almost fully shattered, and the products that once sat atop are now tossed across the floor. The chilly summer’s night air flutters the curtains on the opened window above the bed.

The first thought that comes to mind is a bear attack of some kind. Now fully freaking out, you’re wondering how in the world a bear got into the trailer, and why it only seemed to attack Clyde’s room. You scramble to grab your phone from your purse with shaky hands, dialing Jimmy’s number in haste.

Was this one of the blood moon enigmas mom warned about? No, no, bear attacks are pretty common around here.

It takes a few rings before he picks up.

“Y/N?” He sounds out of breath, exhausted.

“Jimmy, hey. Do you know where Clyde is? I’m at the trailer, and--”

Something that sounds like a growl rips through the speaker, followed by a woman’s voice.

“Is everything oka--”

“Mellie, I can’t help ya right now! I’ll be there in a second!” He yells in the background. “Sorry Y/N, you were sayin’ somethin’?”

“No, it’s alright. I’m just at the trailer, and I peeked into Clyde’s room...”

“Ya didn’t touch anything, did ya?” His voice is rushed.

You shake your head, eyebrows furrowed. “Uh, no, but--”

The growl comes again, louder this time, and it almost sounds like it’s...a voice. A very deep and very animalistic one, but a voice nonetheless. And it was saying something, although you couldn’t really hear clearly enough.

“Jimmy, do you know where Clyde is?” You’re getting a little impatient.

“Don’t worry ‘bout Clyde, he’s okay, he’s, uhh, here with us.”

“Oh, uh, o-okay.”

But tonight was supposed to be your special night together.

“Y/N? Listen real close, now. I need ya to get outta the trailer and go home, right now. Don’t linger, and refrain from touchin’ anything in the trailer. Lock all yer doors n’ close all the windows when ya get back home, okay? ‘N don’t go outside for the rest’a the night.”

Okay, now you’re starting to get fearful. “What--”

“Jimmy!” Mellie’s panicked voice comes through the phone speaker again, this time a bit clearer. He curses under his breath.

Her cries clearly rattled the eldest Logan, and he quickly tells you to just do what he said and then hangs up in a frantic state.

You’re frozen for a moment, but then you quickly scurry outside to your car, frantically looking around as you scramble to fit the key in the driver’s side door. By some miracle, you hold your hand steady enough to unlock it, quickly shutting the door and turning on the engine, peeling out of there like a madwoman.

Suddenly, as you go to pull out of the driveway, a strange apparition appears at the edge of the wood across the street. You squint, trying to figure out what the hell it is. Whatever it is, though, it’s panting heavily and looks...inhuman.

It’s standing on two legs, but its large, probably almost seven feet tall if you had to guess, and must’ve had some type of black fur or skin since it almost blends in with the darkened forest.

The reddish light of the moon is the only light that reflects upon this mystery creature, before it seems to notice your car idling in the driveway. The crisp light grey pupils seemingly glimpse into your soul as the creature looks upon you.

Clearly, now, you can decipher what exactly it is, although you’re in utter shock and skeptical to think it real: A werewolf.

You quickly put the car in reverse, slamming down on the gas, flying backwards for a few seconds before colliding with the trailer’s tin wall. Your head slams forward onto the steering wheel, trickles of blood dribble down your forehead and nose as your consciousness is lost.

When you come to, only a few minutes later, you groan as the welt forms on your forehead. You look around, groggily, seeing that your car is in drive but isn’t moving. Surely when you’d passed out, your foot would’ve come off the brake and you would’ve rolled away...

Stepping out carefully, you find that some bricks have been placed in front of all four tires, effectively keeping the car at a dead standstill.

Who in the world did this?

Then, you turn your head and walk slowly around to the front of your car, seeing the remnants of sharp teeth marks on your bumper. You’re frozen, a lump slowly crawling up your throat as the realization hits.

A low growl comes from behind you, and your worst fears have suddenly been realized. You slowly, carefully spin around on your heels, afraid that one wrong move may make you tonight’s surprise entree.

Your eyes meet the soul-piercing grey’s of the werewolf, the one you’d seen at the edge of the forest minutes earlier. The one that seemingly saved your life, but...how did a werewolf know what to do?

As you continue to gaze at the large being before you, you’re struck with a sense of familiarity, almost as if you’d met them before. Strange, because you can’t recall ever encountering a werewolf. Hell, you’ve never even seen a wolf before, other than in pictures. Surely you’d remember coming into contact with a seemingly impossible biological phenomenon such as this one.

His presence is scarily comforting, and you find yourself briefly wondering what it’d feel like to be enveloped in his woolen arms. Well, arm, technically speaking. This particular werewolf seems to be missing the lower half of his left paw.

Then, your mind connects the dots, and you’re shocked to your very core. It wasn’t a bear that attacked Clyde’s room, it was Clyde. This werewolf that’s standing before you is Clyde. That’s why Jimmy and Mellie sounded so frantic and breathless on the phone; they must’ve been trying to keep him contained.

But why? Werewolves usually recognize the important people in their human lives...right? That’s why he’d saved you from rolling off...

Your headlights’ reflection was speared by your figure, creating a shadow that covered most of Clyde’s form, except for the very tips of his paws, which had enormous claws emerging from beneath the thick layer of fur.

“Clyde?” You whisper, and he seems to soften for a moment, falling down on all threes.

Just as you swallow the lump in your throat and begin to cautiously approach the creature, hand outstretched to allow him to smell you, his eyes suddenly darken, the once snowy grey now more like the color of storm clouds.

He snarls, white teeth shining in the moon’s moody crimson-tinted reflection, and you immediately backtrack. Oh god, I’m fucked.

Your bottom collides with the front of your car, the engine thrumming lowly as it idles happily, grille warm from the machine inside. The headlights are now fully shining on the creature, fur shining under the bright lights as he approaches, lines of drool strung between his sharp fangs.

“C-Clyde, please,” You plead with the creature. “It’s m-me, Y/N, your g-girlfriend. You know m-me, you don’t w-wanna do t-this...”

It doesn’t seem to do much to dissuade him, the animal within now overshadowing the kind, gentle man you know and love. No, this creature is something else. This isn’t your Clyde.

The wolf stops short of the hood, where you’ve crawled up onto and are laying back, raising his nose up in the air, sniffing. You’re perplexed by this action, but it becomes evident when his ear prick and he says, in that same deep, animalistic voice that was in the background of your call with Jimmy,

“Mate.”

And then, he’s pouncing, trapping your hands above your head with his one arm while his legs scramble to find a good grip on the metallic surface of the car, hips rutting frantically.

His muzzle dips down, wet nose running along your jawline and neck, teeth scraping dangerously against your thin skin. He quickly settles on a spot behind your ear, growling as his pink tongue darts out to begin lapping at the spot.

You’re completely still, both physically restrained and unable to bring yourself to even try to move as the creature drags his fangs across the skin behind your ear. Your car is rocking back and forth with his hips’ violent movements, dragging his enormous cock against your lower stomach.

He pants into your ear, breath hot as he prepares to sink his sharp fangs into your tender skin, marking you as his forever...

“CLYDE!”

Jimmy’s voice pierces through the still of the night. Crickets stop chirping for a moment, and Clyde’s body stills. His head whips around, snarling at his brother.

Mellie’s right behind him, and she peers around him, trying to look at you. “Y/N, are ya alright?”

“YYYeah,” You manage, somehow. “I-I’m o-okay.”

Clyde hops down, all three feet planted on the ground, hackles up as Jimmy takes a step forward. “Mate.”

“She ain’t yer mate.” Jimmy says, calmly. He points to you. “Look at whatcha done to ‘er, Clyde. Would a mate look like that, huh? Look at ‘er, Clyde, she’s all beat up and scared outta her damn mind.”

The wolf visibly stands down, slowly turning his head to look back at you, seeing the scratches on your wrists and the marks on your neck. He sees the bit of wetness on your shirt and shorts, from his slick.

He hangs his head and begins to cry, whimpering and whining as he sprints off, surprisingly agile and quick for a wolf with three paws, across the road and back into the woods.

His blood’s boiling, he’s angry that he couldn’t defend you against Jimmy, mad that his alpha instincts had failed him. Even as a werewolf, one of the most powerful beings in the forest, he was still weaker than and overshadowed by his showboat older brother.

Loud barks of anger rip through him as he masterfully maneuvers through the forest, weaving through the trees, dodging thorns, leaping over the fallen tree trunks.

The sky suddenly begins to empty down onto Earth, the cool summer night’s rain a welcomed refreshment on Clyde’s fur. He looks up at the blood moon, huffing softly as he silently curses the orb for bringing this condition to him each full moon, as he did every single moon before this, and will continue to do with every one after.

He reaches his cave a few minutes later, stopping dead in his tracks when he smells smoke coming from inside. He’s on high alert, now, as he moves to peek into the cavern.

There, he finds a lone man sitting by a very small fire, rubbing his hands together over the heat. He’s clad in head-to-toe tree camo with a shotgun laying just out of arms reach.

This man’s scent feels awfully familiar, Clyde thinks, but it takes him a minute to figure out why. And, when he does remember, Clyde is suddenly not so sympathetic for the unwanted visitor in his cave.

The wolf’s mind falls to a certain memory from last night at Duck Tape. This is the jackass that thought he could get away with feelin’ you up. The one that poked plenty ‘a fun at his missing hand.

Clyde’s still-hard cock presses up against his furry stomach in excitement, tongue licking over his razor-sharp fangs. He couldn’t protect or avenge you last night, again due to Jimmy, but maybe he can now.

Jimmy ain’t gonna get in my way this time ‘round.

He can’t just come running into the entrance, no, that allows him too much time to grab the gun. He thinks, and thinks, until he remembers the connecting cave that he’d recently found on the last full moon. He bets he can get in there and creep up behind the man, do a sneak attack.

He’s salivating in anticipation as he bounds down to the opposite side of the cave, paws padding lightly against the soft gravelly dirt floor, trotting along carefully.

The man is none the wiser to the wolf’s presence, and the hum of the loud rain certainly wasn’t hurting. A loud crack of thunder suddenly rips through the forest, vibrating the ground. Clyde freezes briefly as the young man curls up further, chin resting in the gap between his knees.

Predatory instincts pumping through his veins at an all-time high, he crouches down as he stalks closer and closer to the unsuspecting body by the small fire. The anticipation is almost too much to bear, now right behind the man, moving in slow motion so as to not alert his victim.

When the time is right, just as the next clap of thunder rumbles the rocks, Clyde pounces. He grabs the man’s shirt, dragging him out of the cave with an unprecedented swiftness. The fire is extinguished with the tussle, leaving the cave shrouded in darkness, the shotgun laid abandoned on the ground where he’d put it.

He struggles against the wolf’s grip, fabric ripping violently the further his body’s dragged along. Clyde throws him out onto the forest floor, pawing at the ground like a wild stallion as the disheveled man scrambles to his feet.

His hands are shaky as he holds them up in front of him, as if trying to calm the creature like a domesticated dog. “E-Easy, easy.”

If he could, Clyde would’ve rolled his eyes at the man’s pathetic attempt to talk down at him. He snarls, watching in amusement at the way he startles and stumbles back.

Clyde’s got the man backed against the trunk of an old oak within seconds, and he stands up on two legs, glaring at the much smaller figure. He bares his teeth, a wolf’s version of a devilish grin.

“Run.”

It seems like the man is caught in between being shocked that this wolf just spoke English and being chilled to the core by his word. He sputters for a moment, brain smoking as it churns on overdrive, before his legs carry him as quickly as they can down the mountainside.

The wolf casually trots along after him, in very little rush to catch him. He’s throbbing hard now, the excitement translating into pure arousal. Clyde knows these woods like the back of his hand; there’s no where for this man to hide from his inevitable fate as the wolf-man’s next meal.

His head continuously whips around, meeting the grayish-white orbs tucked behind a thick coat of jet black fur. In a frenzy, he tucks himself behind a large tree, catching his breath.

Twigs snap in seemingly all directions, his breath heavy as his eyes flicker all around the dark, damp wood, the only light coming from the crimson-tinted orb above. He reaches back and wraps his arms around the tree’s trunk, panicked.

A low growl rattles his eardrums and he looks to the side, seeing the black creature right at his side. Clyde’s head snaps to the side, looking directly at his victim.

Crying out in fear, the man leaps forward to make a run for it, but is quickly taken to the dirt by the wolfish creature. The man squirms and screams out for mercy, for God, and Clyde knows what he has to do now.

He quickly sinks his teeth into the back of the mans neck repeatedly, effectively severing the spinal cord, leaving the man completely limp and defenseless. A quick and effective manner of disabling a victim, he’s learned through hunting animals, but keeps him just alive enough to see what’s being done to him.

Clyde flips the limp form over, now on his back, and his eyes are wide as he watches the wolf above him, black fur now stained red around the mouth, stare down at him with a hungry gaze.

His mouth opens, probably to beg for his life, but it’s too late. Fangs sink through his shirt and into the flesh of his chest, just above where his rapidly beating heart lay.

The thump-thump rhythm slows, then stops, the life leaving his body. Sweet copper tang coats the wolf’s tongue as the body is drained of its remaining energy.

There is little feeling better than watching the life slowly and steadily drain from the eyes of a victim, and suddenly, Clyde’s throbbing arousal has reached an almost unmanageable point.

But, he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to devour his freshly-caught prey, especially while it’s still warm. So he digs in immediately, carving further into the hole over the heart he’d already created, ripping out the vital organ.

He holds it triumphantly between his teeth for a moment before setting it aside. His craving is more for the meat, he’s never been much of a fan of organs, so he gets to work separating the good meat from the corpse.

Once he’s done, he lifts his nose in the air, howling loudly. He’s never been this hard before, he swears it, and there’s only one person that can satisfy this urge:

You.

For a wolf on three legs, he reaches your house in record time. He can already feel the wolf-ness fading steadily, the human beginning to peek through the cracks. But, his rut doesn’t give at all, and he bounds up the steps and scratches at your door.

You’re startled by the noise, already a gut feeling you know who it is. When you open the door, Clyde’s wolf figure is sitting politely on your doormat. Should you let him in?

He pushes past, whimpering as he does so, before you can make a decision. You shut the door slowly before turning around to face the creature. He seems a bit different than when you saw him earlier, seeming a bit more human.

You stand against the door, back pressed up against it, looking down at the wolf in your living room.

“Y/N.” He breathes, huskily, attempting to ignore the hardness pressing up against his wooly stomach. “N-Need you. Please.”

He’s ashamed as he stands up on his hind legs, wrapping a clawed hand around his oozing cock, jutting his hips out as if to show off for you. The alpha in him needs to show you how suitable of a mate he is, what strong pups he can give you.

“It hhhhurts, b-buttercup.”

The battle going on inside him, animal versus human, is painfully evident on his expression. Your hearts been ripped in half as you watch him struggle with himself, the human trying to overpower the animal, and the animal trying to fight off the human. He doesn’t even know what he did to you earlier.

“What do you need from me, Clyde? I’m here to help you, honey, I’ll do whatever you need.”

His eyes widen in surprise, but its quickly replaced by a look of what can only be described as pure, primal hunger.

“Floor. A-All fours.” The wolf-man manages, desperately humping his hand to offer some relief. “G-Get the lube, ffffuuuck, I mmuhhmight hurt ya without it.”

You rush to get the lube, placing the tube next to you as you pull your leggings down, exposing your bare cunt. Clyde watches with an eager anticipation as you spread yourself for him.

As soon as you’re into position, he practically falls over on top of you, hips rutting uncontrollably as he smoothes lube over his drooling cock and lines up with your entrance.

“B-Buttercup, I...I’m sssorry ‘bout what’s ggon’ happen. This ain’t me, ppuhpplease remember that, mmkay?”

You nod, tearing up at the pure agony in his voice. “I w-will, Clyde.”

His hips shove forward, a choked howl escaping his lips, balls tightening. You cry out, the burn of your walls stretching to accommodate his girthy length more prominent than usual.

Veins bulge out of his neck, jaw clenched as he begins moving, mercilessly plowing into you from behind. He plants his clawed hand next to yours, loud and desperate scratching noises accompanying the wet squelch of your joined torsos.

The carpet is shredded, hardwood floor scratched permanently by his feet as he humps you with a desperation unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. This really wasn’t Clyde, but you soon realized that you exactly mind this side of Clyde, this primal instinct, this roughness. It was arousing, bittersweetly so.

When you look over your shoulder at the wooly mass moving behind you, your eyes widen. You didn’t notice the shiny substance from a distance, but now that he’s up close, you see that it coats his snout and has even dripped down onto his breast.

A gripping fear bubbles in your stomach. But then, you rationalize immediately, before you find yourself too deep down in this rabbit hole of worry. He probably just hunted a deer or a rabbit or something. He’s a fucking wolf, remember?

You almost sigh out loud in relief, but you keep it in, instead moaning along with each of his thrusts.

“D-Did ya like muhmmahhmm--ma w-wolf cock?” He asks.

You nod. “Y-Yeah, ohhh god, I liked it.”

“Gonna gguh-give ya real nice p-pups.” His muzzle rubs over the spot behind your ear, the same one that he’d been after earlier, smearing some of the crimson across your skin. He licks it with as much consistency as possible, considering the speed and intensity of his hips. “F-Fill ya u-up, knot ya gggood ‘n deep.”

You’re almost positive he’s talking pretty much nonsense at this point, his rut brain having completely taken over. You know you’re not gonna cum, but it doesn’t really matter; you’re doing this for him, after all.

“Oh g-god, I’m cummin’, I’m gonna--”

He pauses his hips, howling softly as he cums. But this time, something else begins to swell, and you cry out as it does so.

“M-Ma k-knot,” Clyde breathes in explanation. “Keeps it a-all inside y-ya.”

You nod, not really knowing what all he’s talking about but not really caring for an explanation right now.

“‘m gonna h-havta stay inside y-ya fer a lil while. S-Should be ‘b-bout 30 minutes or so.”

His tongue begins moving over your cheeks and neck, something that makes you smile, that helps you remember that your beloved boyfriend’s in there somewhere.

The half hour waiting period passes, and as much as you’ve loved snuggling with your boyfriend (who’s wolf counterpart is relatively cuddly, despite previous reservations), you’re happy to have him off you.

After wishing you a final goodbye, citing the need to ‘clean up his cave a bit’, he trotted back out the door and galloped like a madman (wolf?) back out into the shadowed wood, leaving you alone once more.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s all over the news when you flip on the TV a couple days later. Hunter Found Slain in Boone County Woods, Bear Attack Suspected.

You have this awful, sick-to-your-stomach feeling that what happened the other night, when Clyde came to your house still in wolf form with a snout and chest covered in blood, had something to do with this.

When the picture of the victim came up on the screen, you audibly gasp, recognizing the face. It’s the guy that was feeling you up at a few nights ago at Duck Tape.

Oh god, no.

Suddenly, the door flies open, and Clyde’s panting as he rushes in and shuts it behind him. He looks pained, bottom lip trembling. “Have ya s-seen the ne--”

“...Police are still investigating the scene...foul play has not yet been ruled out...”

His entire demeanor falls, and the tears fill his eyes. He’s visibly shaking. You stand up and rush over to him just as he collapses on the floor.

You’re freaking out, trying to confirm what it is you’re pretty sure you already know.

“C-Clyde, did you...?”

He looks up at you from where his head now rests in your lap. “I c-can’t quite remember, b-but I think...I think I m-might’ve.”

Sobs wrack through his body as he cries hoarsely. You’re in shock, somehow hearing the words makes the reality suddenly hit like a damn semi-truck. You run your hands through Clyde’s slightly matted mane, soothing him as best you can.

“Clyde, it’s okay, baby. It’s alright, it’s not your fault.” You whisper.

“Y-Yeah it i-is, though. I k-killed ‘im.”

You try to stay strong, for Clyde’s sake, but the tears are swelling in your eyes at an uncontrollably fast rate. “But you d-didn’t do it o-on purpose, h-honey.”

His face seems to drop even more when he sees that you’re about to cry. He sits up shakily, pulling you into a big ol’ bear hug.

“Oh, buttercup, oh god, ‘m sorry. I didn’t m-mean to drag y-ya into all ‘a t-this.”

You sob into his shirt, wrapping your arms around him, holding him close. It’s hard to believe that this man, this kind, gentle man, could’ve done something like this on purpose. Clyde would never hurt a fly.

From what he’s told you, which granted is very little, the line between werewolf and human for him is quite a blurry one. He seems to only be able to remember parts of what happened, and his subconscious is only there for part of the time.

Which means that he’s technically innocent, since he can’t remember nor could he control his canine impulses or instinct. As far as you’re concerned, werewolf Clyde and human Clyde are two different beings.

“I-If anyone ever f-found out ‘bout ma c-condition...”

You pull away and look up at him, holding his face in your hands. “Clyde, I-I’m not gonna turn y-you in.”

“What?” He looks at you with a furrowed brow, like he’s surprised to hear your words. “Y-Yer not g-gon’...?”

Shaking your head, you swing your leg over his lap, hugging him once more while your face settles into the crook of his neck.

“No, of course not. I know you’re a good p-person, and like I said before, it’s n-not you. Your w-wolf side is not really you, Clyde, at least not entirely.”

Clyde looks down at you with an incredibly grateful expression, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He tilts your head up with one of his meaty fingers, immediately pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss is relatively short, just a showing of his gratitude, of his love for you. When he pulls away, you maintain eye contact.

“Okay, so most of the solid DNA evidence will have been washed away by the rain and tampered with by the elements over the past few days that the body’s been outside. Plus, they aren’t looking for wolf DNA, and even if they somehow knew, your wolf DNA wouldn’t lead to your human identity, at least I don’t think so...”

Hours and hours of watching countless true crime shows, movies, and documentaries are finally paying off.

“But, do you remember leaving anything, anything that could indicate foul play? Really search your memory.”

He puts his metaphorical thinking cap on, closing his eyes as he tries to recall anything of use from that night, but nothing comes to mind. His eyes swell with tears as they blink open and he shakes his head. “I can’t ‘member anythin’.”

“That’s okay, Clyde. They won’t find out, I promise, they won’t.” You kiss his neck. “For now, let’s just try to relax and we’ll keep an eye on the news. Will you come snuggle on the couch with me?”

Clyde smiles softly, nodding as you pull away and stand up, extending a hand to him. He takes it, standing up seconds later. As you walk into the living room, he says your name, causing you to turn around with a slightly perplexed expression.

“Thank ya.”

You smile brightly. “I love you, Clyde.”

“I love ya, too, darlin’.”

111 notes · View notes

goth-surana · 3 years

Text

Different Violence

Main Pairing: Anders/Male Hawke

Main Tags: hurt/comfort, whump, aftermath of torture

Chapter 1/2

Summary: Anders opened his eyes just a fraction, but enough to let Hawke know he was alive. Hawke breathed out a sigh of relief that was short lived because Anders was still beaten bloody. There was a gash across his forehead and his lip was split, there was a dark bruise forming on his cheek.

Read on AO3 or below the cut!

The apprentice slated for tranquility had gotten away, that was what mattered. That’s what Anders told himself as his face was pressed into the tunnel floor.

His mana was gone, he had been smited so many times that even Justice was only simmering under his skin.

The Templar on his back twisted his arm up, making him hiss in pain. Anders tried to avoid panicking, tried to think of a way out of this. What if they took him to the Gallows? What if they made him tranquil?

Anders struggled harder, causing his captor to chuckle and twist his arm again. This time Anders avoided making any sound, but the sharp pain still stabbed through him.

The Templar then felt a hand up the back of his head, twisting his gauntleted hand in his hair. The man yanked his head back and the smashed it into the ground, breaking a scream out of Anders this time.

Blood gushed from his forehead as he distantly heard another Templar chastise him.

“That’s the Champion’s man, idiot,” the other Templar said. “We can’t kill him, Knight Commander’s orders.”

“Doesn’t mean we can’t have our fun,” came another voice. This man was amused, and his tone sent a chill down Anders’ spine.

“Hold him up,” the man ordered the others. He spoke with authority, making Anders guess he had a higher rank.

Anders was turned around so that two Templars were holding him sitting up, and the commanding man knelt down to leer at him. His eyes were an almost unnatural blue, and Anders tried to meet his gaze without fear.

“My my,” the man said, smiling. “You’re quite the defiant one. Your kind are always my favorites…”

The man reached forward and stroked a hand down Anders’ cheek. Anders tried to pull away unsuccessfully, amusing the man.

“You would break beautifully, if I had the time with you…” the man mused, almost wistful. “Shame we don’t have that time. We do need to be returning you, after all. That doesn’t mean the two of us can’t have any fun, however.”

Before Anders could begin to worry even more, the man slapped a metal coated hand across his face. Anders recoiled but the other Templars held him steady. There was no escape.

The man then grabbed onto Anders’ jaw and dug his fingers in painfully. He produced a vial of pink liquid that Anders immediately recognized as magebane.

“Either drink it, or I cut it into you,” the man told him calmly. Anders chose the latter, refusing to just give in. He chose to struggle while the Templars held him down and pulled away enough of his coat to find a patch of skin and cut. Anders didn’t scream, refused to give them the fucking satisfaction until they actually began to pour the bane over the cut. Then when he did let out an involuntary yell, the of them took that opportunity to pour the rest down his throat anyway. It tasted vile and Anders spluttered as he choked.

The Templars just laughed. Anders could feel the meager amount of mana he had left being drained away, began to feel lightheaded. He had never been poisoned with this much magebane before, didn’t know if it would make him pass out or throw up or even if it would kill him.

No, it wouldn’t kill him because they had just said they needed him alive. But they also said that they would have their “fun” first, so Anders supposed it would probably be better if he did pass out. If he could just close his eyes and wake up in Hawke’s estate, safe.

Unfortunately for Anders, he did not fall unconscious. He tried to will himself away from the things they did to him, from the kicks and punches and the cuts, but no amount of thinking could make them stop hurting. He took solace in the fact that they did say they had to return him...he would see Hawke again, this pain would end. It was only pain, he had lived through pain before and he could live through it again.

They did make him scream and cry, they made him yell in agony, but he knew it would be over soon. He just had to wait. It would be over soon...it would be over soon.

——————————-

Hawke was at his estate in the company of friends, but missing the company of his lover. Anders had some important mission to run for the underground, but he said as soon as it was over he would head back home.

Hawke knew his friends often clashed with Anders, but there was a shared camaraderie there and at least Varric and Isabela were disappointed he wasn’t showing. Hawke also felt like if Anders would stop giving Merrill a hard time they could get along. It was a little hopeless for Fenris, but Hawke could keep hoping anyway.

Everyone was drinking, but Hawke had stayed sober. If he was hosting, he wanted to stay presentable for at least a little while. So he only took small sips and just enjoyed the atmosphere.

Right now he was losing at Wicked Grace to Merrill of all people, who had also stayed sober and had evidently began taking lessons from Isabela. The woman was looking at Merrill with open pride, taking as much joy in Merrill’s victory as she was.

“I hope Blondie doesn’t miss all the fun,” said Varric, who was at least a little drunk. “Your guy needs to lighten up a bit, Hawke.”

“A lot’s been going on,” Hawke responded. “And he’s not all doom and gloom. He can have fun.”

“Oh I’m sure he can when he’s with you,” chimed in Isabela. “In fact, you’d better be making sure you’re pulling your weight there. The man deserves it!” Isabela was also a little drunk.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re insinuating,” laughed Hawke, giving her a sly look.

“She’s saying she hopes you’re good at having sex with him,” said Merrill very seriously. The whole room erupted in laughter. Even Fenris giggled a bit, which was just delightful.

“What did I say that was funny?” Merrill asked with a raised eyebrow. “Is Hawke bad at sex?”

More laughter, which was then cut off abruptly by a loud knock at the door.

Hawke got up, confused. Who in the Maker’s name would be bothering him at this hour? It couldn’t be Anders because he would have just used the cellar entrance.

“Let Bodahn get it,” said Varric, waving a hand. “If they want your attention they should have come at a reasonable hour.”

Hawke considered this. He could hear the pouring rain outside and didn’t like the idea of leaving whoever it was out in that, but he also didn’t really want to talk to some noble begging him for help.

A knock rang out again, this one louder. Hawke heard Bodahn’s footsteps, and figured he would let the dwarf answer it if he was already on the way.

Distantly, he heard the creak of the door opening. Then Bodahn’s frightened voice rang through the halls.

“Master Hawke!”

Hawke was up at once, grabbing his sword on the way in case danger had arrived. Good thing he’d stayed sober, nothing good could have come knocking at this hour.

Hawke’s friends all followed him with equal urgency, sensing the danger too.

At first Hawke was confused, seeing only Bodahn standing in an empty doorway. But then he saw the figure slumped on the steps in the pouring rain.

Hawke approached with an almost cold efficiency, going into his warrior mindset he had to don in battle. That all slipped away in an instant when he saw who the figure was.

Hawke now crashed to his knees in a panic on the steps outside, not caring about the pouring rain as he pulled Anders into his lap.

The man’s head fell backwards revealing his bruised face to Hawke.

“Love?” Hawke asked, the fear he felt pulsing through his veins evident in his voice, as he ran a thumb along Anders’ cheek. What the fuck had happened? Who had done this?

Anders opened his eyes just a fraction, but enough to let Hawke know he was alive. Hawke breathed out a sigh of relief that was short lived because Anders was still beaten bloody. There was a gash across his forehead and his lip was split, there was a dark bruise forming on his cheek.

Hawke also realized his coat wasn’t on properly, instead wrapped loosely around his shoulders. Hawke did not let himself think too hard about all the worst reasons there could be for his clothes to be in disarray.

Under his coat his light tunic had bloody spots seeping through it, but no rips in the material. Again, the worst did not need to have happened, but the fact was that Anders had either redressed himself or been redressed by his attackers. Given the state he was in, probably the latter.

“Someone help me lift him,” Hawke said, talking through the cloud of panic in his head. He had to keep calm long enough to make sure Anders was stable, at least to get him out of the rain.

Aveline reached him first, helping lift Anders into Hawke’s arms. It must have jostled some injury because Anders let out a small whimper that pulled on Hawke’s heartstrings.

“I’m sorry,” Hawke whispered even though he suspected Anders wasn’t aware enough to hear him. “I’m sorry, love.”

Hawke strode into the mansion, both of them soaking wet and tracking water all cross the entrance hall. Hawke didn’t want to go up the stairs before he knew what kind of injuries he could aggravate, so he headed straight to the living room and set Anders down on the sofa. Hawke gingerly brushed a wet strand of hair out of his face, trying to calm his beating heart. He had to stay calm, figure out what was wrong.

“Anders?” Hawke asked again, placing a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t want to do anything first if Anders could tell him what was injured. How to help him.

Brown eyes blinked up at him as a drop of water ran down his bruised cheek.

“Love, what do I need to do?” Hawke asked. He would not panic.

Anders only looked at him blearily, then smiled. Why was he smiling? There wasn’t anything to fucking smile about here.

“They did return me,” he breathed out. “Thought they might have been lying about that one…”

They? Hawke thought, who are “they.” He would have to ask that of Anders later, so he could find out who deserved retribution. Find out who did this to his lover.

“Anders,” Hawke asked again, patting his face. He needed to focus. “What do I do? How do I help you?”

It took a moment for Anders to reply. Hawke waited with bated breath, listening to only the sound of everyone’s silence.

“Dress the wounds,” Anders said, closing his eyes again. “I can’t heal them right now…”

Hawke didn’t have anything for wounds at his mansion. Why the fuck did he not, with the way he lived?

“Someone go to his clinic and get supplies!” Hawke said to the room behind him. He heard footsteps but didn’t stay looking long enough to know who had gone. That wasn’t important.

Anders shivered, then winced when it aggravated some unseen wound.

“Wet clothes… won't be good if I freeze.”

Anders tried to sit up, but quickly recoiled in on himself and fell back.

“Shit,” he muttered through ragged breaths. “Hawke, help me sit.”

“Right,” Hawke said, placing a hand under Anders’ back and another on his shoulder. He pushed him up and kept pushing even when Anders started shaking again.

His eyes blinked slowly, like he was slipping away again.

“No!” Hawke cried, “no, stay with me!”

Anders looked at him as he closed his eyes, slipping back into unconsciousness.

“Shit,” Hawke muttered as he propped Anders’ limp body against some pillows.

“I’ll have to cut his clothes away. Someone go grab one of my house robes.”

Hawke worked quickly, grabbing a knife that Isabela handed him. First he unwrapped the coat from Anders, and his heart sank. Blood had seeped through the clothing in multiple more places, an entire night sky of violence inflicted.

Hawke cut away the clothes quickly and what he found was somehow even worse. Across Anders’ chest were multiple intersecting cuts, done evenly and methodically. This wasn’t a battle, this has been slow torture.

The same cuts were present on his arms, but not his legs. Although by the time he had Anders down to his smallclothes, he had found a deep cut on his thigh. This had been a gouge rather than a slice.

Hawke was even more grateful that he hadn’t left the door unattended, because Anders was bleeding out fast and looked even paler than usual.

In order to preserve his dignity Hawke draped a blanket over his hips as he removed his smallclothes. Dignity wasn’t the most important thing right now, Hawke knew that… but he still wanted that for Anders. His companions were still rushing about gathering supplies and setting them out, all of them pulling their knowledge of healing together to figure out what they would need.

Anders blinked his eyes open, then shuddered.

Hawke brushed a strand of hair from his face, carefully avoiding the bruise.

“H-have you cleaned the wounds?” Anders asked in what was practically a whisper.

“Not yet,” Hawke said.

“Okay… you’ll…want to do that now. The tunnels aren’t the most s-sanitary.”

Anders’ whole body was trembling as he spoke, either from the cold or the pain.

“G-get this o-one first,” Anders managed to say, twitching his thigh weakly.

“Right,” Hawke told him, feeling sick. How messed up was it that Anders had to direct him in the manner of healing himself? Shouldn’t Hawke know this, shouldn’t Anders be able to relax his mind as his body went through trauma?

Hawke vowed to pay more attention to the knowledge Anders shared. This was never going to happen again, not under Hawke’s watch… but if it did, he would be prepared.

Someone handed Hawke a bowl of water and a clean rag, and Hawke set to work cleaning the blood from around the wound. Anders hissed in pain as his body tried to seize up, but held himself still and only twitched weakly.

Hawke ran a hand over his thigh as he cleaned, needing to know he was offering some kind of comfort. It was as much for him as it was for Anders.

“Get alcohol next,” Anders croaked out, his hands tense fists at his side. His face was so pale he looked like a ghost, sweat beading on his forehead.

Hawke dipped the rag in and brought it to the wound, causing Anders to muffle a cry and twitch again. Hawke never wanted to hear that sound again, the sound of Anders trying to hold back pain.

“You can yell if you want,” Hawke whispered as he tried to work quickly. “No one will judge you for it.”

Anders shook his head, jaw tense. “N-not going to give them the f-fucking satisfaction…”

Again, this them was mentioned. Whoever they were, they would be dead by this time tomorrow if Hawke had his way.

Hawke finally finished disinfecting the wound and began to apply bandages. Anders was shaking, hands grasping the couch cushions in a white-knuckled grip.

Hawke placed a hand on Anders’ shoulder, rubbing small circles as he spoke. “Chest next, is that okay?”

Anders nodded, eyes now screwed shut. He took a long breath in, then out.

The second Hawke touched the wet cloth to a wound Anders’ whole body shuddered violently. Hawke wasn’t sure if these wounds hurt worse or if the cumulative pain was just catching up to him.

“Shh, shh,” Hawke muttered, running a hand through his lover’s hair. “I’ll be quick, I promise.”

Hawke tried to steady Anders with a hand to his shoulder as he worked but the shaking and shuddering kept getting worse.

“I’m sorry,” Hawke muttered every time Anders cried out, “I’m sorry.”

The alcohol was worse. Anders reflexively flinched away, once actually screaming.

Hawke flinched away himself when this happened, his frayed nerves slowly unwinding. His own hands shook now, unable to handle the fact that as he was healing him he had to hurt Anders all over again.

Varric brought over a cloth for Anders to bite down on, which he took quickly. Hawke’s hands kept shaking, he could tell this was now going slower than it needed to.

Anders’ shaking body and his unsteady hands were making this bloody impossible.

“S-someone hold me down,” Anders said after taking the cloth away.

Isabela stepped in, leaning over the couch arm to hold his shoulders. Hawke kept going, but the image this was producing to him was too much. Had Anders looked like this then, being held down and hurt? Had… had…

Hawke felt his stomach turn violently, and just managed to avoid throwing up from sheer stress.

“Shit,” he muttered, still turning away. “I can’t… I can’t do this.” Fuck, his head didn’t feel right either.

“We’ll switch,” said Isabela in an authoritative voice she must have used while captain. Hawke nodded numbly, sliding onto the couch behind Anders and propping him against his chest. He could feel how cold Anders was, how fast his heart was beating.

“Steady, Hawke,” said Isabela. Hawke did as he was told and held on tight, grasping Anders’ shoulders as he whispered stupid assurances in his ear. It would be over soon.

It wasn’t over soon. It felt like forever as Isabela disinfected the wounds and Anders couldn’t even contain his cries of agony.

“What did they do to you, sweet thing?” Isabela muttered as she worked. Anders was too out of it to respond, and Hawke just kept holding on tight and trying to keep it together. Hawke had never been good at staying calm when someone was hurt, much less someone for whom he cared so deeply.

Tears slid down Anders’ face as he sobbed into the rag, and all Hawke could do was keep holding him and keep talking.

Finally Isabela was applying bandages, more efficiently than Hawke would have expected of her. Anders continued to cry, but softer now. Hawke held on tight, feeling his own eyes well up.

Who had done this? Who did Hawke have to kill?

When the last bandage was tied off, Anders shuddered in Hawke’s arms and reached up to remove the cloth from his mouth.

“Th-thank you,” he said quietly. “I-I should be a-alright now…”

He didn’t look bloody alright.

“Shh, don’t talk, just rest,” Hawke said.

Anders normally would have came back with some smart remark about nothing ever being able to shut him up, but now he just fell silent. This wasn’t a good sign.

He was still shivering, still cold to the touch and pale.

“I’m going to take you upstairs, okay?” Hawke asked. Anders nodded.

Hawke bundled Anders in the blanket to preserve his modesty and gently lifted him. Even this much caused some amount of pain.

Hawke’s companions were all silent as he ascended the stairs and made his way to the bedroom. It was warmer in here, and safe from prying eyes. Hawke set Anders on the bed, and sat down next to him.

Anders was breathing unevenly as Hawke pulled the covers over him.

“Thank you, love,” Anders said softly. He still looked so pale.

Hawke’s own hands were shaking again, his chest felt almost too tight to breath. His head was flooded with stress like he had just finished a hard fought battle.

Hawke looked over to Anders, about to ask if there was anything he could do for the pain, and saw that the man had fallen asleep.

Hawke tried to let out a breath, but a sob came instead. Shit.

Anders twitched at the noise, and Hawke left quickly with a hand over his face. He shut the door, walked a few paces down the hallway, and sank to his knees and cried.

He released all the pent up stress, all the anger and horror and hurt. He wasn’t even the one who had been brutalized, but it felt like his heart was held in a vice grip by whoever had done this to Anders.

Hawke didn’t notice Fenris approach, but looking up for a moment he saw the man standing silently. How long had he been there, watching Hawke cry?

Hawke took a deep breath, tried to compose himself. He nodded in Fenris’s direction, prompting him to speak. Hawke didn’t trust his own voice right now.

“I am sorry for intruding,” Fenris began. “I know Isabela noticed something strange about the mage’s wounds. They hurt more than they should.”

Hawke couldn’t recall Isabela saying anything like that, but this whole ordeal was a horrible blur.

“It occurred to me that this may be a practice from Tevinter, wherein one pours magebane in the wounds of their enemies. If you are a mage, I am told it increases the pain.”

Another fucking thing done to Anders. As if cutting him wasn’t enough.

“Wh-“ Hawke started, his voice breaking. He took a moment to get it together. “What can I do? Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Apply elfroot to the wounds, after they are somewhat healed. Hopefully the poison will wear off soon and the mage can heal himself the rest of the way.”

Fenris looked like he had something else to say. There was an odd vulnerability about his expression, he looked almost shaken.

“I…” he said. “I know I do not get on with the mage… with Anders. But do let him know I hope he recovers well. I take no pleasure in my allies suffering torture, especially not with Tevinter techniques.”

Right. That must have been hard for Fenris to watch too. He had his own experience with torture and abuse.

“Are the others still here?” Hawke asked, feeling more drained than he had all year.

“Yes. They are waiting to see if you need anything else.”

“Tell them thank you, but… but we should be okay now. I have all the supplies I need, and the worst is behind us.”

A darker thought crossed Hawke’s mind.

“But soon I will need help. When Anders has recovered enough to tell me who did this.”

Fenris seemed to catch his meaning, and nodded grimly. “You will always have my support, Hawke.”

#anders/male hawke #anders/hawke #handers #m!handers

15 notes · View notes

mst3kproject · 4 years

Photo

The Navy vs the Night Monsters

Of course, it’s not like bad things stop happening now that 2020 is finally over… we just get to start counting again from zero. Kind of like how I’ve started counting thirty-six Episodes that Never Were per year, beginning with this one. It was co-directed by Wyott Ordung from Robot Monster and features familiar faces like Russ Bender and Mamie Van Doren, the latter for once not playing a teenage delinquent. It also has one really obscure MST3K connection: it was based on a story by Murray Leinster, which the sharp-eyed will remember as the name of the ship attacked by Evil Count Zarth Arn’s lava lamp weapon at the beginning of Starcrash!

A plane carrying specimens of Antarctic flora and fauna makes a rather rough and unexpected landing at a naval base on remote Gow Island in the south Pacific. There appears to be nobody on board except the pilot and a few penguins – the former is in a catatonic state, and the latter are... well, penguins... so what happened to the rest of the passengers and crew is a complete mystery. Did the pilot go mad and kill them? Did the penguins? Or did it have something to do with those mysterious ancient trees discovered growing around a geothermal spring in the heart of the frozen continent?

The first ten minutes of this movie are spent trying to be a comedy. Before we get anywhere near the plot, we first have to listen to the guys on the plane try to be funny about their lunch and their tastes in women. Then on the island, we watch a guy who can’t seem to figure out how to inflate a balloon, followed by a dude talking to his dog, and then a really icky bit where two women convince a man he had sex with both of them, which he buys because he was too drunk to remember. Only then do we finally establish what’s actually going on. The impression one gets from this beginning is that The Navy vs the Night Monsters is going to be peopled entirely by Jackass Comic Relief characters, and I actually turned the film off and sat on it for a couple of days to psych myself up to watch the rest.

When I finally turned it back on, to my relief the movie turned out not to be quite that bad, but it’s still pretty damned bad. The dull and unfunny opening is followed by an abrupt shift of tone, as a man maddened by terror jumps from the plane to his death! The only thing set up by the opening that turns out to be relevant is Spaulding the meteorologist’s crush on Nora the nurse, when she’s in love with the base’s second in command, Lieutenant Brown.

I complain frequently about useless love triangles in movies. This one is very useless, and all the more so because the script totally forgets to resolve it. Spaulding hates Gow Island but stays because he’s in love with Nora – he wants her to go back to Miami with him and marry him. When he puts this idea to her, however, it becomes obvious that Nora can’t stand him, and it’s clear enough why: Spaulding is an asshole and he treats Nora not as a partner but as a possession. Never does he show any sort of tenderness towards her. Every time they speak to each other, he seems to end up shouting, and his jealousy of Brown repeatedly leads to violence.

Brown, on the other hand, treats Nora with respect and actually shows vulnerability around her. He’s been left in charge while the base’s commander is on the mainland attending an important meeting, and he’s really feeling the pressure as the base is surrounded by tree monsters in the dark. He talks about his anxiety and Nora comforts him, and the audience rolls their eyes because it’s perfectly obvious which of these guys she’s going to pick. And sure enough, at the end she’s in Brown’s arms… but nothing about the whole situation is exactly resolved.

Brown and Spaulding did get in a fist fight, though it wasn’t explicitly over Nora, but nobody ever talks about the problem. Spaulding never realizes that he’s treated Nora badly, and it never seems to even occur to him that she might prefer Brown over him, or even that she has emotions or preferences at all. He definitely never seems to understand that he’s lost. Brown and Nora seem to feel a need to hide their love affair from the other base staff, but we’re never given a reason why (although I guess ‘Spaulding’s a dick’ is reason enough). Nora never tells Spaulding that she prefers Brown… maybe she’s afraid he’ll assault her? I hate everything about this situation, but nothing more than the fact that as the movie progresses we get hints that Nora may be warming up to Spaulding, as if she’s supposed to consider these two guys equal contenders for her affections! Fuck everybody who wrote this, seriously.

It’s kind of sad to see Mamie Van Doren in a role like this after meeting her in things like Untamed Youth and Girls Town. Those movies were gross and exploitative, but Mamie’s characters were central to their plots and she filled those shoes reasonably well. She wasn’t Oscar material but for what the films were, she was enough to carry them. The Navy vs the Night Monsters is a little closer to being a ‘real movie’, but in this respect it represents a step down for her, as she is relegated to being something for two men to fight over. Furthermore, Silver from Girls Town and Penny from Untamed Youth were both characters who required some range – Nora the nurse mainly spends the whole movie being annoyed with the men in her life. Van Doren could have done much more if anyone had bothered asking it of her.

Let’s see… what else do I hate about this movie? I hate Private Chandler, the guy who stays a Jackass Comic Relief character once that opening is over. Shockingly, The Navy vs the Night Monsters actually kills him off, but he’s not nearly as annoying as Dropo or the guy from Outlaw, so his death merely feels mean rather than having any entertainment value. The guy was just about to actually get laid by one of the women who’d made fun of him earlier – though she, like Spaulding, showed no sign of being sorry for past jerkitude.

I hate the monsters. Normally I have a soft spot for plant monsters. They’re a cliché in their own way, I guess, but they’re a fun idea. The ones in The Navy vs the Night Monsters kill and digest people with acidic sap, and a character theorizes about how and why such a thing would evolve, which is cool. The execution, however, sucks. While the poster for the film shows us a humanoid Treebeard-looking thing, the actual monsters in the film are dumb-looking stumps that waddle along like a couple of guys trying to move a piece of furniture corner-by-corner because it’s too heavy to lift. The result reminds me of The Creeping Terror, in that you have to want to get eaten by these things. At one point a guy walks right up to one, inspects it, and escapes its clutches merely by backing away slowly!

The trees reproduce using insect-like larvae that are, themselves, lethally venomous. This is also a neat idea which is, once again, ruined by the execution. The tiny ones are being pulled along the floor by a sometimes-visible string, and then they grow into stumps that look like they should be stools around a boy scout campfire, which move even slower than the adult trees! There’s a scene where the characters are holed up in the base under an onslaught of these, with planes arriving to napalm them just in time, and it is ludicrous in its attempt to feel threatening.

I do like that Gow Island is a bleak middle-of-nowhere rather than a tropical paradise. The landscapes kind of remind me of the Falkland Islands, though the weather on Gow is evidently better. You can see why some of the characters hate it here, surrounded by barren scrub inhabited mostly by ten thousand smelly, raucous seabirds. Unfortunately this backdrop makes the ‘comedy’ opening seem even more out of place, though it’s also kind of nice that they didn’t give us any stereotyped ‘natives’ as either comedy or monster fodder.

As for a theme… well, The Navy vs the Night Monsters is clearly about an invasive species. The biologist, in suggesting how the tree monsters evolved, points out that they are suited to the hostile environment of Antarctica in ways that make them nearly unstoppable anywhere else. We’re told that they devoured all the penguins the scientists were bringing back for study, and as well as eating the people, they wreak havoc among the Gow Island seabirds and reproduce out of control. The parallels to things like cane toads in Australia, or housecats just about anywhere, are obvious.

This isn’t something the characters care about, though, even the ones who profess to be scientists. At the end, enough of the trees are destroyed that the humans can safely evacuate, and what happens after that is clearly Gow Island’s problem, not humanity’s. I really would have liked to see the script go into this a little more, but then, The Navy vs the Night Monsters is not a movie that wants to go into anything, even stuff it sets up in some detail.

At the end, The Navy vs the Night Monsters feels pretty half-assed. Somebody wanted to make a movie, and then put in the bare minimum effort possible to have all the parts present. They clearly understood how movies work, but they didn’t have the money and didn’t want to go to the trouble. The result is deeply mediocre. There’s a few laughs out of the dumb stump creatures, but mostly it’s just bad.

#mst3k #reviews #episodes that never were #the navy vs the night monsters #tw: abuse #humanitarian vegetables #60s

18 notes · View notes

coffee-n-bagels-comic-universe · 3 years

Text

January 3rd or One's Beginning is another's end (Daughters of Darkness)

This passage contains potentially: Explicit Language, Depictions of Violence (including mentions of blood), Smoking, Slang and maybe some bad translations.

Summary: An introduction to the world of the Daughters of Darkness, through the eyes of series protagonist Kirby 'Gluttony' Lucifarian. The first day and night, from her perspective, of them working for the WWF.

Kirby's POV:

Tuesday. The first day of being 'on the job', Tuesday the third of January 1984. Damien got us into the WWF. … Damien, managed to get us into the quickest rising wrestling promotion, popularity wise. To be honest with you, Damien's given us free reign to get to know people, for now. I don't know anyone here. I've heard of people here, such as the most famous giant in the world, and … Hogan.

I'm not here because I earned it, I'm here because I'm a necessity for the team. That's how I view it. That's how I've always viewed it. Vickie needed someone to make fun of and, well, I'm the easiest choice. Then, in the midst of a darker path of thought becoming clearer in my mind...

WHAM

Both me and the figure I waltzed into thudded to the floor, "Oh, my good lord. I'm so sorry are you o..."

I looked at the figure before me, taking in how much trouble I had created in the last three seconds.

Taller than myself.

Head covered by a wild afro.

Around double my weight.

André.

André the giant.

Flat on his arse … because of me.

Oh … Shit.

"Are you alright, Mademoiselle…"

I could tell he was searching for a name but didn't know it. Too frightened to even speak I glanced away. I noticed his shadow move.

"Mademoiselle?"

His footsteps came closer, he sounded … worried, as if he didn't want me to get fired for this.

"Mademoiselle?"

He picked me up, not off the ground, but so I could stand. I whispered out a small 'thank you', or rather 'merci'. His hands still on my shoulders, he smiled sweetly and nodded, as if to beckon forth more words from me.

"I'm Kirby, or rather, Gluttony. I'm new around here."

André grinned, putting his arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer before stopping upon seeing how much taller than every other woman in the company I am.

"Are you, uh …" he searched for the words

"A giant, yes, technically a giantess."

I feel I should summarise the next hour or so, but, André took me on a tour of the backstage area and we talked, about everything. Within an hour I had gained a new friend, a genuine friend, someone who didn't care about my height or looks. I know the only reason he didn't care is because he knows what it's like to be stared at just because you aren't 'normal'.

By the time André's tour had ended it was time for Vickie and Damien's interview with Mean Gene, which I was to attend. I said a goodbye to André and rushed off to perform my usual role.

The Enforcer, or rather, the intimidation device, that's my role in this group, to scare people, that's all I do. Before joining the group I was part of another group back in England, The Celtic Warriors, I was part of a championship winning tag team. Now what am I, a damned intimidation device, a human scare tactic.

The Interview:

Gene's first question for us, actually, Damien and Vickie (whilst I stood behind them and looked 'menacing'), was 'How are you doing so far?'

Damien began, "You know something, Gene, my girls have yet to have a match, but we are doing absolutely fine. In shape, ready to rock, ready to roll. Gene, every one of the Daughters of Darkness are doing fine."

Vickie followed suit, "Just look at us," She gestured to me and then herself, "Don't we look marvellous, Gene."

Gene smirked, "You could say that again, miss?"

"Pride, though you can call me Vickie."

Damien glared at the smaller man, almost as if he was daring him to try and flirt with her.

Gene readjusted and focused in on the prospect of new women in the WWF and the possibility of more matches. "Uh hum, yes, now how soon do you girls think you'll be seeing a match on the cards?"

"Soon, Gene, Soon." Vickie stated, ending the interview by walking off.

The first night after 'work' was surprisingly normal, Damien and Vickie went off in their rental car, taking Holly and Eli with them whilst the rest of us stood around backstage for a while.

Billie brought a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of her purse, lighting one up and walking over to me, sitting down on a box placed near by and blowing the smoke away from me she spoke up.

"What's up with you, Tall-ass."

"Thinking."

"Dangerous pastime hermana."

"I know, hermana"

"You collect phrases, don' cha?"

"They may come in handy, Billie, one day."

"You going to the gym tomorrow?"

"Of course. Gotta train. Gotta … gotta settle in somehow, right?"

"Right, mi hermana, I'll see you around, alright?"

"See ya, Billie."

She waved back at me as she walked away.

Billie was the only person who knew that I 'collected' those little phrases that seem like nothing until spoken. Language isn't my strongest aspect, more often than not I'm silent and I try to avoid other peo-

"Hey! watch where you're walking man!" I yelped out, shocked back into the present moment. Instantly regret flooded my mind as I realised who had barged past me to get out of the building.

Big John Studd.

One of the most disrespectful 'giants' in the world of wrestling. famous for being the one man who pisses André off more than anyone else, including the Iron Sheik.

He sneered back a quick, "Who gives a fuck." and continued to stroll away.

That … that fuckwit. Who does he think he is. I felt a gentle hand place itself on my shoulder. I turned, expecting to see Eli or P.G, I was face to, well, chin with André.

"Forget about him," He started, with that same sweet, friendly smile from earlier, "Damien said you may need a ride back to the hotel. I don't recommend you walk back now, too dark out for a young lady such as yourself."

The way his R sounds turned into faint W's and he missed off or faintly implied H's was calming. Almost in the same way that hearing a parents voice would calm a child after a nightmare.

"Oh, uh, it's okay André, I was going to get a taxi."

He nodded in response, somehow both downhearted and curious, as if he knew that I was either lying to him or if I did get a taxi, the immense pain my back would be in the following day. André sauntered off, leaving me, once again by myself.

I don't mind being alone, in fact most of my life I have been alone, always the outcast, it was only when I got into wrestling that it started to change.

I picked up my bag and started walking, buttoning up my shirt up to the top of my chest, my near-neon orange shirt covering down to my mid-forearm, hiding any noticeable tattoos, except the one on my wrist, when I turned eighteen, I got a small, runic 'R' on my right wrist, in remembrance of my uncle Rory, the tallest of my dad's brothers.

It took about an hour to get to the hotel, an hour of walking through a city I'm not familiar with, when I eventually got to the hotel I went straight to my room and locked myself in. All alone, I could practice or train if I wanted, so I did.

I took off my black shirt, shoes and belt and I stood in the middle of the hotel room and practiced punching, then I switched to doing my warmups and working out, push-ups, planks, squats. By the time I finished it must've been around midnight, maybe one or two am. I got some sleep, waking up at six, getting changed into some fresh workout gear and headed straight to the gym.

You meet all sorts of characters at a gym, or so I've been told. Back in England I would go to my parents house and use our home-made gym to work out. Not an option that I have anymore, however, the moment I got into the gym, I felt like I was in a whole new world, as if I was just getting into the business all over again. I scanned for any faces that I knew, Mr Fuji, Tonga Kid, Sgt Slaughter, Don Muraco, Lou Albano, Iron Sheik, Freddie Blassie, Tito Santana, Jimmy Snuka, Bob Backlund, Gene and Pat, David Schultz, and … who is that?

I walked over to David and this mystery guy, nodding at David and heading to the heavy bag next to them.

"Mornin' Gluttony, André's been talkin' about ya."

"Oh really, Mr Schultz?" I tried to keep my breath noises to a minimum as I continued to hit the bag.

The mystery guy snickered, quickly shutting up after Schultz glared at him.

"C'mon girl, you know you can call me David. An' yeah," He stopped punching and instead leaned on the heavy bag in front of him, forcing the other guy to hold it still "Giant's been talking about him havin' a new friend and how much he likes ya."

"He's a good man, it's good to have friends in new places. Who's your pal, David?"

He smiled and slung his arm around the shorter man, "This here, this is Roddy Piper. He's like you."

I tilted my head slightly to try and make him explain further.

"You are Scottish, right?"

"I'm a quarter Scottish. Anyway, Piper, Do you speak Gaelic?"

"Uh, no, I can play the bagpipes however." his eyes lit up slightly, a sort of mad fire behind a haze of brown or maybe dark blue.

"Well, I'll see you around I guess, I've gotta warm up for later though."

I tried to block the two men out and focus on my own workout but Piper seemed to stick around a lot longer than David. He was still there when my workout ended.

"What do you want?"

"You're a quarter Scottish, you're also a giant. How do you fight? Show me." He seemed to get more energetic the more he talked.

"Right now?"

He nodded, "Right now, c'mon."

He led me to a ring that some other wrestlers were using to brush up their skills.

From the looks of the ring, it was actually used for boxing.

Roddy entered the ring the same way as most six-foot-two guys did, through the top and middle ropes. I tested the ropes, and seeing that they had just enough slack, used them to jump over the top rope.

"I've never seen a girl do that before."

"Mistake number one, I'm a woman, not a girl. Mistake number two, you expected a giant to be normal."

He scoffed out a laugh and got ready to lock up.

We locked up and Piper hit me with a knee to the stomach.

I got him back with an Irish whip into the corner, accidentally winding him by being too stiff.

"You're gonna pay for that, lass." He snarled out, already getting pissed off.

I sized him up, trying to see how high I would have to get myself in order to dropkick him to the mat.

Piper tried to hit me with a running high knee strike but I countered with a dropkick, taking us both down to the mat and slamming my face into the mat.

The mat was a lot harder than I was used to, it felt like I had rammed my head straight into a cinderblock, I started breathing heavier than before.

I rolled over and put my arms up, making an 'X' with my forearms. Piper stopped and walked over.

"You alright?"

I shook my head.

He knelt down and pulled me up into a sitting position.

I hesitated, knowing I had to take my mask off to see what was wrong but truly not wanting to. Piper managed to unbuckle the straps of my mask and winced as he saw what was underneath. My mind went slightly mad not knowing if he was wincing at the injury I had caused myself or the fact that, compared to the rest of the D.O.D, I'm truly the worst looking, beauty-wise, that is.

Hitting my mouth so hard on the canvas of the mat below us, I had managed to hit my mask in a way that the bottom edge, which curved under my chin, cut into my flesh and made me bleed.

I put my hand up to the cut and Piper quickly held my arm by the wrist and shook his head, "Don't you dare."

By the time I received medical aid, which consisted of cleaning the cut and putting a band-aid on it, Piper had given me back my mask and asked if he could work out with me sometime. Knowing that he was currently on a different show, I said sure and we had split ways.

END OF ONE'S BEGINNING IS ANOTHER'S END / JANUARY 3RD

#Lucifarians #wrestling fic

4 notes · View notes

tw-anchor · 4 years

Text

26. More Important Things

Anchor

Stiles Stilinski x Original Character

Episode: 3x02; Chaos Rising

Word Count: 9,884

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence and gore, non-consensual kissing, non-canon events

Author’s Note: Just letting you know now that Olivia and Stiles spend most of this chapter at odds. Eventually they make up, though. Hope you enjoy! Please make sure you reblog and like!

Masterlink in Profile Description!

May 16, 2011

Olivia folded her arms over her chest as she stood next to Derek, glaring at the old, beaten down and fire-warped house in front of her. Hopefully it would be the last time she would ever have to see it; any day now she and Derek would sign it over to the county so they could start to demolish it and reclaim the land back for the reserve.

However, before then there was some work they had to do.

The symbol painted on the rackety front door was still there, looking the same as when Derek showed her a picture of it the day before. It was some sort of triskele but the arms were straight and angled. Personally, Olivia thought that it was ugly and way too close to a swastika to mean anything good. The fact that Derek called a pack meeting, which included Peter now, didn't bode well either.

"You haven't told them everything yet, have you?" Peter asked Derek from behind her.

Both Olivia and Isaac turned to their alpha expectantly.

"What do you mean?" Isaac was the one to speak.

Peter smirked and leaned against the tree he had stopped next to. "Why do you think Derek was in such a hurry to build his pack? So eager to strengthen his power and his number?" he nodded at the door. "When there's a new alpha people take notice."

"People like who?" Olivia's gaze switched from Derek to the symbol on the door. "That has something to do with this, doesn't it?"

Isaac glanced at the symbol, his eyebrows furrowing. "What does that mean?"

"It's their symbol," Derek told him. "It means that they're coming."

"Who?"

"Alphas."

Olivia reared back, giving her cousin an incredulous look. "More than one?"

Derek inhaled deeply. "A pack of them."

"An alpha pack," Peter said dramatically. "and they're not coming. They're already here."

"I'm telling you, Al, I don't see it," Olivia sighed as she and Allison followed Lydia down the sidewalk to head Heath's house down the street.

She raised her bruised arm and squinted at it in the dark, trying to see the pattern that Allison was talking about. The taller brunette was adamant that the bruises that the random woman gave them were identical and completed some kind of mark when they put their arms together but Olivia thought that she was going crazy. How would anyone be able to control what a bruise looks like?

"It's a pattern," Allison insisted, pulling her phone out of her purse to call Scott yet again. "It means something."

Olivia eyed the phone, watching as it went straight to voicemail. "And you think Scott's gonna know what it is?"

"No but he might know someone who does."

Lydia sighed heavily from in front of them and turned around to face them, walking backward. "How are you so sure this so-called pattern means anything at all?"

Allison's face screwed into a frustrated expression. "Because that girl wasn't just looking for Scott, it was like she needed to find him. And she knew you, too, Liv," she pointed out; Olivia pursed her lips. "That means something."

Olivia wasn't convinced but she wasn't going to disagree with Allison about something so minor. She would rather that Scott answer his phone so that they could go talk to him than continue on to Heath's house so they could celebrate his seventeenth birthday. It wasn't her idea of a fun night, especially when she and Lydia hadn't seen Heath in such a long time.

"Okay, so the bruise means something," Lydia conceded for now. "but can we focus, please? Tonight's supposed to be fun."

Olivia and Allison exchanged frowns; neither of them wanted to be there.

"Ugh," the redhead groaned and pointed at Olivia. "don't give me that look."

"What look?"

"The look you always give me when you don't want to socialize," Lydia stated. Somehow, she was still walking backward in her heels and she hadn't even stumbled. Even though she wasn't clumsy, Olivia really envied her cousin's balance sometimes.

"I don't want to socialize," Olivia shrugged.

"Why are we even going to this party?" Allison spoke up in her defense. "We don't even go to school with these people."

"My dad and Liv's mom were best friends with Heath's parents so we were all passed around for babysitting when we were kids," Lydia informed her.

"We haven't seen him in years," Olivia added with a roll of her eyes.

"So? Heath promised that he'd introduce us to his hot friends," Lydia grinned. "They're on the soccer team."

"I told you—"

"I have a—"

"Yeah, yeah," Lydia cut off Olivia and Allison as they spouted off their excuses. "but I don't have a boyfriend and I'm looking for a distraction, remember?"

Olivia sighed as they came upon Heath's house. It looked the same as it did when she and Lydia were kids except it was a light blue now and there were a bunch of cars parked in the driveway. She could already hear the music blasting from inside and she could tell she wasn't a fan of it.

Now that they were here, they couldn't exactly leave. Well, they could but she doubted that Lydia would let them. She turned to Lydia with a sigh. "One drink?"

Lydia beamed at her. "One drink," she confirmed, grabbing Olivia's hand to drag her up the pathway that led to the front door. Olivia took Allison's hand and took her along too. If she was going down, Allison had to go with her. "Here we go."

They entered the house and surprisingly, there weren't a lot of people hanging around. There were twenty or thirty of Heath's classmates, both boys and girls, but the house wasn't as full as one would expect when you're used to Lydia Martin's parties. There wasn't anything interesting about it, either, except the huge cake that sat on one of the food tables. Now that caught Olivia's eye.

"Lydia, Liv!" Heath, a tall blonde with warm brown eyes, bounded up to them with a happy grin on his face. "You made it."

Lydia excepted the hug that Heath offered. "Thanks for inviting us."

"Happy birth—" Olivia forced herself to say as Heath moved onto her, only to be cut off when he smashed his lips against her. She quickly pushed him off of her, jostling his drink onto her shirt in the process, and glared up at him with shocked and angry eyes. "What the hell?"

"Liv," Allison touched her shoulder to steady her, her own eyes wide. Lydia looked just as shocked with the turn of events. "are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Olivia assured her before turning back to Heath for an explanation.

"Sorry, sorry, I can explain," Heath said hurriedly, awkwardly holding his hands away from her. "Uh, here...let me—let me help you dry off."

Olivia gaped at him and he frantically corrected himself. "No, I meant that there's towels in the kitchen. And you—you can dry yourself off and I'll get y-you a shirt."

The last thing Olivia wanted was to go anywhere with Heath but her blouse was sticking to her torso and it was white, which was not a good combination. Plus, she could smell the alcohol on Heath's breath. It was clear he needed some water and she wasn't a complete monster.

"Fine," she huffed and walked off, already heading to where she remembered the kitchen was located.

Heath ducked into the laundry room to grab a shirt from her and entered the kitchen when he was done. "Here," he handed her a neon pink t-shirt with the name of his school on the front. "It's my mom's."

"Thanks," her voice was the flattest it had ever been. "You should probably drink some water."

"Yeah, I had some beer," Heath went to the fridge and pulled out two water bottles, handing one to her. "Listen, I'm sorry about earlier."

Olivia untwisted the cap from bottle and quirked an eyebrow at him. "You mean when you kissed me?"

"Yeah," Heath blushed in embarrassment. "My friends found out that I used to have a crush on you so they dared me to, you know, kiss you when you got here."

"I have a boyfriend."

Stiles was in the front of her mind and it made her stomach churn with guilt. Yeah, Heath kissed her but she didn't want him to and she certainly didn't kiss him back. She would never in a million years cheat on Stiles and just the thought of her lips pressed against someone else's while she was with Stiles freaked her the fuck out.

"I'm really sorry," Heath looked like he was about to burst into tears, he was so regretful. "They've just been teasing me because I don't have a girlfriend yet and I'm not interested in girls right now so they all think I'm gay—which isn't a bad thing but I have no idea what I may or may not be into! And when Ritchie found out I'm a virgin everything just got so much worse—"

"Heath, it's okay," Olivia felt bad for the guy now. It sounded like he was being bullied because he was still exploring his sexuality. She really wished he wouldn't have kissed her, especially while she was dating Stiles and without her permission, but it wasn't big of a deal. She would explain to Stiles and he would be fine.

Who was she kidding, Stiles would freak. He was jealous of Isaac when he joined Derek's pack just because they were walking and talking together.

"You should really get new friends," she continued, taking a sip of her water.

Heath laughed bitterly. "Yeah, probably. Anyway, I'm really sorry, Liv. I shouldn't have done that."

"No, you shouldn't have," Olivia agreed. "but it's fine. I forgive you, so..."

"Well, thank you."

An awkward silence started up and it made Olivia's twitch, like she wanted to run far, far away. And she did want to, to be fair. She also really needed to change her shirt.

"I'm gonna go change," she held up the t-shirt he had given her.

"Yeah," Heath nodded. "Um, I'm gonna get some more beer from the garage, so...um, have some cake before you leave."

"I will," Olivia said as she left the kitchen and hurried to the downstairs bathroom.

Once her beer-stained blouse was traded out for the t-shirt, she left the house to meet up with Lydia and Allison, who told her that they were out in the front waiting for her. To her surprise, they weren't the only ones; Stiles and Scott were there, too.

"Hey!" Stiles' eyes lit up when he saw her, making her stomach clench guiltily. "Lydia said you had a little accident. Nice shirt."

Olivia smiled weakly. "Thanks," she needed to tell him now before she lost her nerve. "Hey, can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Of course."

Their talk lasted more than a minute. In fact, it lasted the whole ride back to Olivia's house. Just like Olivia predicted, Stiles did freak out about Heath and what had happened. In the four months that they had been a couple, they had two previous fights and neither of them were as bad as the one they were currently in.

It wasn't even that they were mad at each other, really. Stiles was angry and when he was angry, he was a sarcastic little shit and Olivia couldn't hold back her own comments, which set them off in an endless cycle.

"The fact is that you were lying," Stiles told her angrily.

"Lying about what?" Olivia scoffed. "Heath kissed me literally two minutes before you came, Stiles. How the hell was I lying to you?"

"I'm not even talking about that fucker now, God."

"Well, how was I supposed to know? God, you're so infuriating," Olivia gritted her teeth.

"I was talking about the alpha pack," Stiles continued like she hadn't said anything. "You knew about this for what, four months?"

"It's more like three, really..."

"And you didn't even tell me," Stiles waved his hand in frustration, his eyes narrowed as he turned onto her street. "You didn't tell me that some weird pack of alphas—what the fuck is up with that, anyway—is in Beacon Hills and they're doing god-knows-what!"

Okay, he had a point there. Olivia didn't tell him about the alpha pack but she didn't want to bother him with it. He and Scott had made it clear that they weren't part of the Hale pack and she was, so didn't tell him.

"You're not supposed to lie to the people you're in a relationship with!" Stiles exclaimed, slamming his hand against the steering wheel. "I mean, I know you have a heart of stone and everything, but—"

Olivia winced at his words, the corner of her eyes starting to sting. "Wow."

Stiles, out of anyone, knew that she didn't have a heart of stone. She had as much feelings as everyone else. Just because she could hide them well didn't mean anything. He knew that. Hell, he had told her that himself many times before—he always sounded so proud when he talked about the fact that he could read her even though other people couldn't. And he knew how much she loved him. So, the fact that he was throwing that in her face hurt her.

"What?" Stiles looked over at her, like he hadn't realized what he had said. Apparently, he hadn't because he looked like he had slapped himself when he remembered his words. "No, I didn't mean that, Olivia."

Olivia pressed her lips together and looked out her window, grateful that he was pulling up to her house. "Sure Stiles," she quickly unbuckled her seatbelt and opened her door. "Night."

"Wait, no, Livvy," Stiles reached for her hand, grabbing it just before she jumped out of his jeep. "I really didn't mean that. You know that—"

"You wouldn't have said it if you didn't mean it," she snapped at him, ripping her hand away from him.

"Come on," Stiles groaned, growing irritated again; she slid out of the passenger seat and slammed the door behind her. "Olivia!"

Olivia kept walking toward her house, not allowing her tears to fall until Stiles drove off.

"You know, I'm starting not to like this idea. It sounds kinda dangerous," Isaac admitted as he paced in front of the huge window in Derek's loft, his hands clenched into fists. "You know what? I definitely don't like this idea and I definitely don't like him."

"You should be fine," Olivia tried to reassure him before pausing, twisting her lips. "Well, I think you will."

"You'll be fine," Derek told Isaac while sending Olivia a shut-up-you're-scaring-him look.

Isaac turned to Derek just as the alpha went back to reading his book. "Does it have to be him?"

"He knows how to do it. I don't," Derek didn't even bother looking up from his reading. "It'd be more dangerous if I tried doing it myself."

Isaac exhaled out of his nose and walked over to the table where Olivia and Derek were sitting. "You know Scott doesn't trust him, right? You know, personally, I...well, I trust Scott."

It was hard not to trust Scott but that didn't mean Isaac couldn't trust Derek, too. Derek was trustworthy, even if Peter wasn't. And Derek—nor Olivia—would let Peter do anything to Isaac.

Derek looked over at him. "Do you trust me?"

It took longer than Olivia expected for Isaac to answer. "Yeah," he confirmed lightly. "I still don't like him."

"Isaac, he's my father and I don't like him," Olivia sighed. "I don't know anybody who does."

The large metal door to Derek's loft slid open, revealing Peter. He looked better now that he had cut his hair into an acceptable length and gained some color after his two-month stint with death. "Boys, cupcake," he greeted Olivia, Isaac, and Derek. "FYI, yes, coming back from the dead has left my abilities somewhat impaired but the hearing still works. So, I hope you're comfortable saying whatever it is that you're feeling straight to my face."

Derek gave him a flat look and slammed his book shut. "We don't like you," he stood from his chair. "Now shut up and help us."

Peter shrugged. "Fair enough," he dramatically finished his statement by growing his claws. "Let's do this."

Soon enough, Isaac was situated in Derek's previous seat, almost curled in on himself from his nerves. Peter had an unimpressed look on his face as he watched the younger beta, slowly walking around him.

"Relax," he advised Isaac. "I'll get more out of you if you're calm."

Isaac glanced back at Peter as he stopped behind him. "How do you know how to do this again?"

It was a good question because Olivia didn't know the answer, either. All she knew was that Peter knew how to do it. He had used this method to give some of his memories of his comatose years to Scott when he was terrorizing Beacon Hills and Olivia had thought it was interesting since.

"It's an ancient ritual used mostly by alphas since it's a skill that requires quite a bit of practice," Peter said as he studied the back of Isaac's neck, lining up his claws at the appropriate spot for penetration. "One slip and you could paralyze someone...or kill them?"

"You've..." Isaac swallowed nervously. "You've had a lot of practice, though, right?"

Peter smiled creepily at him. "Well, I've never paralyzed anyone."

Olivia cocked her head. "Uh..."

"Wait, does that mean that you—"

Isaac wasn't able to finish his question as Peter forced his claws into the back of his neck; he flinched violently and Peter wrapped his arm around his throat to hold him still. Jumping to her feet, Olivia winced at the frantic whispers flying through her head.

Derek stood up in alarm, worried for his beta's safety but it seemed that even Peter was having trouble with the ritual. His eyes glowed an icy-blue as he grunted, his head jerking back from whatever he was seeing in Isaac's memories.

"Derek..." Olivia looked at her cousin nervously, standing from her chair.

Derek went to stop Peter from continuing the ritual but Peter finally spoke up.

"Wait, I see them," he said urgently.

He went silent again, struggling with everything he was seeing. After another moment, Peter ripped his claws from Isaac's neck and threw himself away from him, shoving himself into the table.

Olivia steadied him while Derek asked, "What did you see?"

"Uh, it was confusing," Peter panted, shaking his head. "Um, images...vague shapes."

"So you saw something," Olivia stated, glad that the ritual worked and that he hadn't done it for nothing.

"Isaac found them."

Olivia perked up at Peter's statement; if Isaac found Erica and Boyd that meant that they were one step closer to getting them home safe and sound.

"Erica and Boyd?" Derek checked.

"I-I barely saw them. I mean—g-glimpses."

"But you did see them?" Derek asked firmly.

Peter glanced down at his hands, tightly holding them together. "Worse."

Derek's face fell in realization. "Deucalion."

Olivia's shoulders slumped as she walked toward Isaac, settling her hands on his shoulders to try to give him some calming vibes, though she needed some herself. Deucalion was the leader of the alpha pack and even though he was blind, he was the most vicious out of all of them, according to Derek and Peter. Even thought they already knew that Erica and Boyd were with the alpha pack, it was hard to hear it confirmed.

"He was talking to them," Peter reported. "Something about time running out."

"What does it mean?" Isaac looked to Derek for answers.

Derek sat down on his couch, his face grim. "He's gonna kill them."

"No, no, no, he didn't say that," Peter disagreed. "He did make them a promise that by the full moon that they'd both be dead."

Shit, Olivia thought as she bit the inside of her cheek.

"The next full moon?"

Peter nodded at Derek. "Tomorrow night."

"You guys are late," Stiles' voice was dry and disapproving as Olivia and Derek made their way into the empty classroom that they were supposed to meet Stiles, Scott, Lydia, and Allison in before school started.

Olivia gave him a blank stare; she wasn't mad at him anymore but she was still a little irritated with how they both handled the night before. She also didn't like the way he was speaking to her now, as if it was such a big deal that they were three minutes late. "Do you know how hard it is to sneak a grown man into a school without being suspicious?" she narrowed her eyes at him while making her way to Allison and Lydia. She didn't give him time to answer, "I didn't think so."

Stiles rolled his eyes at her while Scott sighed and addressed Derek, "Yesterday someone was at the school looking for me. She spoke to Allison and Olivia—we think it was the girl who saved Isaac."

"The one he was looking for?"

"I described her to Isaac and he said that the description matched the girl," Olivia told him, crossing her arms over her chest. "Anyway, she bruised me and Allison and now we have matching bruises."

"We think it's a hint to where Erica and Boyd are being kept," Allison's gaze was cool as she spoke to Derek.

It was the first time they were in the same room after everything went down with Jackson and Gerard. The tension was very obvious; they could all feel it in the air.

Allison held out her bruised arm and so did Olivia, placing hers right next to Allison's to complete the pattern. Olivia was still having a hard time seeing it, but she did know it was there after Allison drew out the pattern she saw on a piece of pattern.

Derek studied it for a moment. "I don't see anything."

"Look again," Scott urged.

"How is a bruise gonna tell me where Boyd and Erica are?"

"It's the same on both sides," Scott sighed in exasperation. "Exactly the same."

"It's nothing," Derek glared at Allison; she readily returned the vicious stare.

"Pareidolia," Lydia spoke up from the other side of Allison; Olivia cocked her head in acknowledgement as everyone else looked at her in confusion. "Seeing patterns that aren't there. It's a subset of apophenia."

Derek raised his eyebrows at her and then turned to Olivia expectantly.

Olivia pressed her lips together. "We're trying to help, Derek."

Derek scoffed and nodded his head at Allison. "She wants to help?" he scoffed. "She shot about thirty arrows into our pack, Olivia."

Allison raised an eyebrow but didn't argue with his point; she knew what she did but she wasn't going to apologize for it.

"Okay, all right, now, come on," Stiles tried to mediate. "No one died, all right? Look, there may have been a little maiming, okay, a little mangling but no death. That's what I call an important decision."

Olivia rolled her eyes at him while Allison glared at Derek. "My mother died."

"Your family's little honor code killed your mother, not me," Derek said tensely.

"That girl knew Olivia and was looking for Scott," Allison didn't back down. "I'm here to help them, not you."

"You wanna help? Find something real," Derek turned away from Allison and headed for the door.

Scott quickly stopped him. "Derek, give her a chance," he said quietly. "They're on our side now."

"Well then maybe you should tell her what her mother was actually trying to do that night," Derek retorted.

Olivia glanced at Allison and was relieved that she had turned away to talk to Lydia and wasn't listening to their conversation. She didn't need to learn that her mother was actually trying to kill Scott the night that she was bit in the middle of an argument—or at school, for that matter. Preferably, Scott would tell her in private where she could react however she wanted to.

Olivia only jumped a little bit when Coach slammed his teacher copy of their textbook unto his desk. She turned away from her conversation with Lydia, who was sitting beside her and behind Stiles, to get her notebook ready and pay attention to Coach's lecture. Her need to take precise notes extended even into the easy classes.

"The stock market is based on two principles," Coach spoke as he went to his spot in front of his students' desks. "What are they?"

Olivia knew the answer but she didn't bother to raise her hand to answer him; she was more interested in the fact that Scott had raised his hand in front of her and he was very confident about it.

Does Scott know the answer? Stiles did say that he had buckled down this summer when it came to school.

"Yes, McCall, you can go to the bathroom," Coach said casually as he looked for another hand. "Anybody else?"

Scott lowered his hand. "Uh, no, Coach, I know the answer."

Coach looked at him for only a second before bursting into laughter. When Scott didn't react in anyway, he sobered up. "Oh, you're serious."

"Yeah," Scott confirmed. "It's risk and reward."

Olivia raised her eyebrows and shared an impressed look with Lydia. Scott really was taking his studies seriously now.

"Wow!" Coach was shocked by the correct answer. "Who are you and what have you done to McCall?" he advanced to Scott desk to happily point his finger in his face. "Don't answer that. I like you better, I like you better," he stood straight again and looked around the room. "Does anybody have a quarter?"

"I do," Stiles answer, shoving his hand into his pocket to grab the coin.

In what felt like slow motion, a small foil packet flew out of his jeans and through the air, landing on the floor right in front of Coach's feet. When Olivia saw what the packet actually was, her face grew hot in embarrassment and irritation.

It was a fucking condom. What the hell was Stiles carrying around a condom for? He had made it perfectly clear that he didn't want to have sex with her yet but he was carrying around a condom in his pocket? Was he breaking up with her because of their fight? Was he looking for another girlfriend?

Olivia was fully aware of how pathetic her thoughts had turned and she really didn't like it. She knew that Stiles loved her but the insecure and whiny part of her—a part that she didn't know she had until then—was throwing a fit and silencing her common sense. She couldn't stand how her relationship with Stiles had turned her into such an insecure and jealous little girl.

She loved him and their relationship but she certainly didn't like this part of her. This wasn't the real Olivia Martin.

The whole class went silent as Coach bent down to pick up the condom. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lydia give her a suggestive look but she was too busy staring at Stiles and the flush of his mole-speckled cheeks. He was frozen as Coach cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Stilinski," Coach coughed weakly. "I think you, uh, I think you dropped this," he handed the condom back to Stiles before he lowered his voice to add, "and congratulations."

It was only then that she saw the condom displayed itself as extra-extra-large. If her cheeks could heat up any further, she was sure a thermometer would show that she had a fever.

And then Stiles looked back at her with mixed emotions on his face. She could see that he was embarrassed and apologetic but there was also something else burning in his gaze that she couldn't decipher. She didn't know how to respond to his gaze; was she supposed to glare at him or smile?

In the end, she turned away as Coach started his lecture again.

"Risk and reward," he declared, turning to walk back to the front of the classroom to pick a mug up from his desk. "Put the quarter in the mug, win the reward. Okay, watch Coach."

He put the mug on the floor in front of his desk and then backed up five feet. Crouching down, he exhaled sharply and focused on the mug. Then, after a few seconds of lead up, he bounced the quarter off the floor and into the mug.

Olivia clapped with the rest of her classmates as Coach celebrated.

"That's how you do it!" Coach cheered before throwing the quarter over to Danny, who was sitting in front of Scott. "Okay, Danny. Risk or reward?"

Danny looked at the quarter in his hands. "What's the reward?"

"You don't have to take the pop quiz tomorrow."

"Coach, it's not a pop quiz if you tell us about it," Danny reminded him.

Coach ripped the quarter from his hands. "Danny, you know, I really expect more from you at this point. Really," he moved onto Scott. "McCall, risk and reward. The risk; if you don't put that quarter in the mug, you have to take the pop—the quiz—and you have to write an essay. Risk, more work. Reward, no work at all...Or choose not to play."

Scott picked up the quarter that Coach put on his desk. "But isn't this just chance?"

"No," Coach disagreed. "You know your abilities, your coordination, your focus, and past experience—all factors affecting the outcome...So, what's it gonna be, McCall? More work, no work, or choose not to play?"

Scott stared at the quarter for a few seconds before firmly setting it down on his desk.

"No play," Coach said aloud for the people who hadn't seen Scott's decision. He took the quarter back and looked around the room. "Okay, who's next? Who wants the quarter?"

Stiles rapidly drummed on his textbook, catching Coach's attention.

"There ya go! There's a gambling man! Come on. Step up, step up!" he handed the quarter to Stiles and allowed him to head to the front of the room. "All right, Stilinski."

Stiles took his position five feet away from the mug and bent his knees to get better aim. He was so focused on getting the quarter in the mug that he didn't even notice that the classroom door opened and his father stepped into the room.

"Olivia."

Olivia was shocked to hear her name come from the sheriff but Stiles had misinterpreted it. He thought that Coach was getting Olivia's attention. "I'm Stiles, actually."

"Stiles, no," Noah shook his head at his son, who finally looked up and saw him standing there. He turned to where Olivia was sitting and nodded solemnly. "I need to speak with you, Olivia."

Olivia bit the inside of her cheek but steeled herself as she got up out of her seat. The few feet between her and the sheriff felt like miles but in reality, it took her less than ten seconds to join him and his deputy in the hallway.

"Sheriff, what's going on?" she asked worriedly. She was pretty sure she hadn't done anything to warrant a visit from the police and if it was about Thomas or Natalie, they would have called Lydia out, too. That meant that something had to have happened to Peter or Derek. That was the scope of her relatives.

"Olivia, I'm sorry to tell you this here but your friend, Heath Sommers, was reported missing," Noah told her; Olivia raised an eyebrow, shocked by what he revealed. "Now, we heard from some of his friends that you interacted with him at his party last night. Do you have any idea if Heath was going to go somewhere and he might not have told someone?"

"N-No, he didn't—he didn't mention anything," Olivia stammered as she tried to wrap her head around the fact that Heath was missing when she just saw him less than twenty-four hours ago. "He spilled a drink on me last night and he gave me one of his mom's shirts. Are you sure he's missing?"

"We're sure," Noah confirmed with a nod. "Did you talk about anything that may have been suspicious?"

Olivia thought back to the conversation she had with Heath. "He told me that he was struggling with his teammates," she recalled. She wasn't sure if she should reveal Heath's struggle with his sexuality or not. She decided not to; that was Heath's business to share. "They were teasing him."

"Do you know what they were teasing him about?"

"No, sir," she shook her head, her mind racing. "Am I in trouble? I told you everything that I know."

It was a lie but they didn't need to know about that particular part of their conversation.

"You're not in trouble," Noah assured her. "We just needed to follow through since his friends said that you were the last person who saw him."

That surprised her. "Really?"

Noah nodded. "We hope that it's just a series of bad decisions based on too much to drink but if you remember anything else, you should call me."

"I will," Olivia promised.

"All right," Noah sighed and shared a nod with his deputy. "Well, I'm sure I'll see you later, Olivia. Have a good rest of the day."

"Thanks, you too."

She stayed in her spot as Noah and the deputy left the hallway to head back to the office. Once she was sure they weren't coming back, she walked over to the wall next to the classroom door and slid down onto the floor. After she pulled her knees up to her chest, she rested her forehead against them.

Not only were Erica and Boyd still missing but now Heath was too. It was odd that three people that she knew were no where to be found...Unless it wasn't odd and it wasn't a coincidence. The alpha pack had taken Erica and Boyd, who's to say they didn't take Heath, too? She didn't know why the alpha pack was targeting people she knew, but she was admittedly the closest person to Derek, so if they were after him, maybe they were after her too.

It made her feel like she was having a heart attack just thinking about it. Because if they were targeting people around her, not only was she responsible for Heath's disappearance but the other people she loved and cared for might be next. She couldn't handle that.

She pressed her hand flat against her heart and inhaled deeply, trying to relax. She wished that she could have a calming effect on herself like she had for werewolves. She really got the raw end of the deal on that.

The door opened beside her and someone walked out of the classroom, coming to stand in front of her. When she removed her head from her knees, she saw that it was Scott kneeling in front of her with worried eyes. He must have heard her freaking out.

"Hey."

"Hi," Scott smiled slightly. "You okay? I heard what the sheriff said."

"Honestly, I don't know," she admitted. "but Scott, I think the alpha pack took Heath."

"You think that they kidnapped Heath?" Scott raised an eyebrow in surprise. "To what, turn him?"

"I don't know," she said honestly; what else would alpha werewolves do with a human? "but Derek said that it's easier to turn teenagers."

"A pack of alphas with a beta?"

"I know it sounds crazy," she acknowledged. "but I've known Heath since I was a baby and I feel like it's my fault that they took him."

"Okay, okay," Scott nodded calmly. "So we need Isaac to remember where he found Boyd and Erica then."

"Peter couldn't even do that and he did that weird mind-meld thing," she sighed, leaning her head against the wall. "Do you know any other werewolves that might know something different? Because I don't."

"I don't either," Scott said. "but maybe we don't need another werewolf. Maybe we need someone who knows a lot about them."

The bag of ice in Stiles' hands was freezing and borderline painful but the more he handled the frozen cubes, the less he noticed. Deaton must have bought thirty of the ten-pound bags of ice in preparation for the little ritual he was going to do to Isaac. He, Scott, and Derek dutifully poured them into the tub of water that was full of some special herbs that Deaton wouldn't really explain.

Yeah, like that wasn't creepy at all.

Meanwhile, Stiles also kept an ear out for Deaton's conversation with Isaac and Olivia. He was giving them a little information about the ritual and for some reason, Olivia had to join the beta. It annoyed the fuck out of Stiles that Olivia had been stuck to Isaac's side since they all arrived at the animal clinic but that the jealous side of him. Logically he knew that she wanted to be there for her friend and pack mate. He just didn't like it—then again, he didn't like Isaac much.

"Obviously, it's not going to be particularly comfortable," Deaton told Isaac. "but if we can slow your heart rate down enough, you'll slip into a trance-like state."

"Like being hypnotized," Olivia offered.

"Exactly," Deaton confirmed before addressing Isaac again while they walked into the exam room where Stiles, Derek, and Scott had finished up, "You'll be half transformed. It'll let us access your subconscious mind."

"How slow does his heart rate need to be?" Scott wondered as Isaac crouched down near the tub of ice water.

"Very slow."

"Okay, well, how slow is very slow?" Derek asked, annoyed with how cryptic the veterinarian was being.

"Nearly dead."

Stiles didn't like how casual Deaton's tone was and by the looks everyone else was giving him, they didn't like it either.

Isaac cautiously put a hand on top of the freezing water and hissed when his skin made contact. "It's safe, though, right?"

Stiles turned away from the conversation, a little bored—it was Isaac, all right? —and wandered over to the counters. They were in the only exam room in the animal clinic which meant that this was the same room he, Olivia, and Derek were in when the werewolf was shot with that wolfsbane bullet. Stiles had seen some pretty interesting stuff when he was cleaning up the counter but he hadn't had time to explore then. Now he had time.

"Do you want me to answer honestly?"

Stiles found the protective gloves first; there were three different boxes on display, each one of them a different size. He was most interested in the long gloves. He had seen Dr. Pol before so he knew that they were the ones that vets wore when sticking their hands up an animal's butt.

He scrambled to put one on.

"No. No, not really," Isaac sighed flatly.

The end of the rubber glove snapped the inside of his elbow painfully but he didn't wince. The sound had gotten the attention of everyone else so he smiled at them, proud of his actions. No one else seemed to be.

"What?"

Olivia and Derek raised their eyebrows in unison—and, of course, the expressions were identical. He rolled his eyes in annoyance and ripped the glove off his arm, throwing it to the side.

"Look," Derek turned to Isaac as the younger werewolf stood to his feet. "if it feels too risky, you don't have to do this."

"If it helps, you won't be doing this alone," Deaton offered to everyone's surprise. "Olivia will be joining you."

"Excuse me, what?" Stiles interrupted, looking at Olivia worriedly. He really hoped that she wasn't getting in that tub with Isaac because he definitely didn't want her in a position where her heart was beating so slow that she was nearly dead.

"You didn't mention anything about that," Derek glared at the vet.

"Relax," Olivia soothed them. "I'll just be guiding him through the process."

Stiles crossed his arms over his chest, uncomfortable. "Why does it have to be you?"

"As an anchor, Olivia has a unique relationship with each member of the pack that not even the alpha has," Deaton informed them. "She's connected to them on a mental level, where most people wouldn't be able to connect. She's the most likely to access Isaac's subconsciousness."

Stiles nodded slowly, coming to an understanding. Olivia wouldn't be in danger, she would just be guiding Isaac through the ritual. He wasn't going to tell her what to do, anyway. She never listened to him so what was the point? She was an independent woman who was free to make her own choices, Stiles understood that.

Olivia glanced between him and Derek. "Are you satisfied with that explanation or do you want to protest more?"

Stiles scowled at her while Derek rolled his eyes. She was so prickly sometimes—it was the Hale in her. He was sure of it.

Ready to start, Olivia took a seat on a roll-y stool at the head of the tub while Isaac removed his shirt. He inhaled deeply before stepping into the tub and sitting down into the water. The icy water must have seized his lungs, as he started panting right away.

Scott and Derek stood on either side of him with their sleeves rolled up, ready to force him into the water. Stiles took his place at the foot of the tub as they shoved him underwater, water and ice splashing everywhere.

With a roar, Isaac came springing from the water, fangs bared and eyes gold. Stiles hurriedly ducked his hand under the water and grabbed onto his legs, ignoring the cold to use all of his strength to keep him still.

"Get him back under," Deaton ordered him, Derek, and Scott.

"Isaac," Olivia's voice was almost like she was singing as she reached for his head to press her fingertips against his temples. He calmed only a little, still thrashing beneath their hands.

He went under the water again but only a second later he popped right back up.

"Hold him!"

"We're trying," Derek hissed at the veterinarian.

"Isaac!" Olivia raised her voice while Derek and Scott ducked him back under. Her eyes were purple now and even though she was staring in Stiles' direction he knew that she wasn't seeing him.

Isaac stilled under the water and when he, Scott, and Derek removed their hands from him, he slowly floated to the top, only his face peeking out.

"Now, remember," Deaton spoke softly as to not disturb Isaac. "only Olivia should talk to him. Too many voices will confuse him and draw him out."

Stiles, Scott, and Derek all nodded in agreement. No talking for them.

"Olivia."

"Isaac," Olivia's voice was calm and soothing while still being clear. "Can you hear me?"

"Yes, I can hear you," Isaac spoke like he wasn't actually awake. Which, Stiles knew, he wasn't. He was hypnotized—at least, that was what Deaton said.

"It's Liv."

Stiles raised an eyebrow at his girlfriend; since when did Isaac call start calling her Liv?

Not really a time to get jealous, Stiles! He reminded himself harshly.

"I need to ask you some questions. Is that all right?"

Isaac's voice trembled; whether it was from the cold water or his nerves, Stiles couldn't say. "Yes."

"I have to ask you about the night you found Erica and Boyd," Olivia stated. "You need to remember it for me as detailed as possible. Like you're actually there again."

"I-I don't—I don't want to do that," the lights started blinking on and off as Isaac started to freak out. "I don't want to do that."

"It's all right, Isaac," Olivia almost cooed. "I'm right here with you. You just need to relax. They're just memories. You can be hurt by memories."

"I don't want to do that."

"It's all right."

"I don't want to do that."

"Relax, Isaac," she shushed him and her purple irises seemed to brighten for a moment; Isaac calmed down, going still again. "Good, good...Okay, let's go back to that night where you found Erica and Boyd. Can you show me what you see? Is there some kind of building or house?"

Olivia's eyes started darting around the room as if she was seeing the same thing that Isaac remembered. Thankfully, Isaac clued the rest of them in on what they were seeing. "It's not...it's not a house. It's stone. I think it's marble."

"Perfect, Isaac. I can see it," Olivia confirmed. "Can you give me anything else?"

She must have been seeing things only as Isaac started to remember them.

"It's dusty, so empty."

"Like an abandoned building," while Olivia spoke, Stiles exchanged looks with Scott and Derek. This was much weirder than any of them thought it would be. "Isaac?"

Isaac started to shift nervously again. "Someone's here," he whispered frantically. "Someone's here."

"Isaac, relax," Olivia ordered.

"No, no, no, they see me, they see me!"

"It's just a memory," she reminded him. "You can't be hurt by it. Just relax."

Isaac whimpered in fear but eventually calmed down again. Stiles actually felt sorry for the guy; even if he didn't like Isaac, he didn't want to see him hurt.

"Good, good...Show me what you see. Show me everything."

"I hear him," Isaac stated. "He's talking about the full moon, about being out of control when the moon rises."

"Is he talking to Erica?"

"I think so. I can't—I can't see her. I can't...I can't...I can't see either of them."

"Can you hear anything else?" Olivia asked patiently.

"They're worried," he murmured. "They're worried what they'll do during the moon. They're worried that they're gonna hurt each other."

Derek looked at Scott worriedly. "If they're locked in together on the full moon, they're gonna tear each other apart."

That was definitely not a good thing.

"Isaac, we have to find them right now," Olivia said urgently. "Can you see them?"

"No."

"Do you know what kind of room it is? Is there any kind of marker, a number on a door, or a sign?"

Isaac gasped deeply and sat up; he almost pulled Olivia into the tub with him if it wasn't for Derek grabbing her in time. "They're here!" he whimpered. "They...they..."

"I know. It's okay..."

"No!"

"Just show me—"

"They see me, they found me," Isaac said breathlessly. "They're here!"

Derek looked at Deaton in disapproval. "This isn't working," he declared before turning back to Isaac. "Isaac, where are you?"

"I can't see them. It's too dark!"

"Just tell me where you are!" Derek ordered.

"You're confusing him," Deaton interjected.

"I can't see!"

"Isaac, where are you? Just tell me where you are!"

"His heart rate! He could go into shock!"

"Derek, let him go," Scott pulled Derek's grip away from Isaac.

"Isaac, where are you?! What did you see?!"

"They got me! It's so dark. I can't see! Oh, my God, there's a dead body! It's Erica!"

Olivia gasped loudly, the purple in her eyes rapidly fading to their normal cobalt-blue state. She fell back from the stool and landed on her back, knocking the wind out of her. Stiles let go of Isaac's legs and rushed over to her, kneeling down next to her to see if she was okay.

To his shock, she was crying.

"Livvy," he gathered her into his arms and crushed her to his chest. "Are you okay? Babe, are you all right?"

"It was Erica," she whimpered shakily, digging her face into his shirt.

Stiles winced and looked up at Derek, seeing that the alpha had gone still in shock. His gaze to Scott, who was staring back at him with a sad look. If what Olivia and Isaac said was true, that meant that Erica was dead.

"It's a bank vault!" Isaac chose that time to startle awake, blinking the water from his eyes. "I saw it! I saw the name," he stood up and Scott immediately handed him the towel they set out for him earlier. "It's, uh...B-Beacon Hills First National Bank. It's, um, it's an abandoned bank and they're keeping them locked inside the vault."

Stiles grimaced and looked back down at Olivia, leaning his chin on her head to provide any comfort that she could take. Isaac noticed how uncomfortable they all looked and almost blanched when he saw the upset state Olivia was in.

"What?"

"You don't remember what you said right before you came out of it, do you?" Stiles asked him.

Isaac shook his head. "No."

"You said when they captured you that they dragged you into a room and that there was a body in it."

"What body?"

"Erica," Stiles sighed sadly. "You said it was Erica."

Isaac was shocked into silence, just like Derek and Olivia, but he had enough in him to sit down first. While Scott and Deaton cleaned up the huge mess of water, Stiles grabbed Olivia her own towel, as she had gotten the most wet while dealing with Isaac. When she was settled on the same table as Isaac, he jumped up to sit next to her and allowed her to nestle her head into his shoulder.

Any anger that he had with her was gone. Yeah, she lied to him about the alpha pack and they needed to work on that but that was old news now. There were more important things to worry about; Erica was dead and Boyd was still with the alpha pack, bound to lose control during the full moon that was coming up in twenty-four hours.

"I don't think you saw Erica's body," Derek finally spoke up; it was clear that he was deep in denial. "It could've been your imagination."

"It was her," Olivia croaked, her bloodshot eyes turning to her cousin. "I saw her, too."

Derek shook his head and raised his voice. "She's not dead!"

"Derek, he said that there was a dead body and that it was Erica," Stiles tried to get through to him. "That doesn't exactly leave us much room for interpretation."

"Then who was in the vault with Boyd?"

"Someone else, obviously."

"Maybe it was the girl on the motorcycle," Scott piggybacked off what Stiles had said. "The one who saved Isaac."

"No, she wasn't like us," Isaac shook his head. "and whoever was in the vault with Boyd was."

Stiles blinked thoughtfully. "What if that's how Erica died?" he mused aloud. "They, like, pit them against each other during the full moons and see which one survives. It's like werewolf Thunderdome."

"Then we get them out tonight," Derek decided.

"Be smart about this, Derek," Deaton interjected. "You can't just go storming in."

Derek stood his ground. "If Isaac got in, then so can we."

"But he didn't get through a vault door, did he?"

Stiles dug his hand into his jeans for his phone; he quickly booted up his internet app and searched for Beacon Hills First National Bank to see exactly why it was abandoned in the first place. Maybe it would be something that would help them get Boyd and the mystery girl out of there.

"We need a plan," Scott sighed.

"How are we gonna come up with a plan to break into a bank vault in less than twenty-four hours?"

Stiles smirked at the information he pulled up on his phone. "Uh, I think someone already did," he answered Derek before reading the article's headline. "Beacon Hills First National closes its doors three months after vault robbery. It doesn't say here how it was robbed but it probably won't take long to find out."

Derek looked at him with a firm gaze. "How long?"

"It's the internet, Derek, okay?" Stiles scoffed and smirked at the alpha werewolf. "Minutes."

"Okay," Stiles whipped open the blueprint plans for Beacon Hills First National Bank and set it on Derek's table, spreading out until it was flat against the surface. He pulled out a red sharpie from his pocket and hovered it over the plans. "See this?" he marked an 'X' on a small box on the paper. "This is how they got in. It's a rooftop air conditioning vent. It leads down inside, into the wall of the vault, which is here," he marked the large square that acted as the bank vault. "Okay?"

Olivia pressed her lips together as she listened carefully, paying strict attention to everything that Stiles said. This was going to one of the most important things she would learn in her life; Boyd's life and the life of the girl that was stuck in the vault with him depended on them and their ability to remember the layout of the building and the plan they were coming up with.

"One of the robbers was lowered into this shaft," Stiles continued, marking a smaller box right off the vault. "Now, that space is so small it took him about twelve hours to drill into that wall—which is stone, by the way. Then, throughout the rest of the night, they siphoned cash up to the guys back on the roof through that one little shaft in the wall," he slapped the blueprint and capped his marker. "Boom."

"Can we fit in there?" Scott asked on Stiles' left, leaning over the blueprints.

"Yes, we can, but barely," Stiles told him. "And they also patched the wall, obviously, so we're gonna need a drill of some kind. I'm thinking maybe a diamond bit..."

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Olivia couldn't help but smile at her boyfriend. She loved how passionate he got about things, especially when it came down to law enforcement or crimes and how they happened.

"Look, forget the drill," Derek sighed, already fed up with Stiles despite the fact that they only started this little meeting ten minutes before.

Stiles looked at him with raised eyebrows. "Sorry?"

"If I go in first, how much space do I have?"

Stiles looked at Olivia to see if Derek was serious; when she nodded, he turned back to Derek. "What do you...what do you think you're gonna do, Derek?" he demanded. "You gonna punch through the wall?"

Derek straightened up and folded his arms over his chest; Stiles stood up to his full height, too, only an inch shorter than Derek, as to not be deterred by him.

"Yes, Stiles, I'm gonna punch through the wall," Derek almost looked amused as he confirmed Stiles' suspicions.

"Okay, big guy, let's see it. Let's see that fist," Stiles dared him. "Big, old fist, make it, come on. Get it out there, don't be scared. Big, bad wolf."

Olivia sighed in exasperation and looked toward the spiral staircase where her father was sitting. It was no secret that Peter disapproved of her relationship with Stiles—even if he didn't mind the kid—so to see him roll his eyes so heavily at Stiles' antics didn't surprise her.

Stiles was hard to get used to, she knew that from experience.

Derek finally held up his right fist. "Yeah, look at that," Stiles smirked and put his hand up, palm splayed open, only three inches away from Derek's hand. "Okay, see this? That's maybe three inches of room to gather enough force to punch through solid con—"

Derek quickly pushed his fist forward, harshly connecting with Stiles' palm. Stiles was forced back where he fell onto the table, groaning in obvious pain. He clutched his injured hand with his other and jumped up to start pacing, as if that would help him overcome it.

"He could do it," he wheezed.

"I'll get through the wall," Derek declared, his gaze flickering over to Peter. "Who's following me down?"

"Don't look at me," Peter said quickly. "I'm not up to fighting speed yet and honestly, with Isaac out of commission, you're not looking at very good odds for yourself."

Olivia wasn't surprised with Peter's little speech. He didn't care about Erica or Boyd so he wouldn't be bothered to do anything to help them. He didn't know what it was like to have a pack—he didn't care about anyone but himself.

"So I'm supposed to just let them die?" Derek demanded.

"One of them is already dead," Peter reminded him.

"We don't know that."

"Do I have to remind you what we're up against here?" Peter shook his head in disbelief. "A pack of alphas, all of them killers. And if that's not enough to scare your testicles back into your stomach, try to remember that two of them combine bodies to form one giant alpha. I'm sure Erica and Boyd were sweet kids, they're gonna be missed."

Stiles scoffed. "Can someone kill him again, please?"

Peter glared at him before looking at his nephew once more. "Derek, seriously? Not worth the risk."

"Okay, look," Olivia spoke up, trying to move on from her selfish father's perspective. "Allison and I will be going around the front so that we can meet you in there. If I can calm Boyd and that girl down, we don't need as much manpower."

"True," Derek nodded and looked over at Scott. "What about you?"

Stiles thought that he was talking to him. "Yeah, if you want me to come—"

"Not you."

Stiles clicked his tongue in realization and pointed to Scott. "Got it."

"I don't know about Erica but if Boyd's still alive, we have to do something," Scott stated. "We have to try..."

"But?" Derek sensed that there was more he wanted to say.

"Who's the other girl? The one locked in there with Boyd?" he wondered.

"Right now, I don't think it matters," Olivia said bluntly. "The moon is gonna rise soon, so we need to get going. Once this is all over, then we can focus on this mystery girl."

Derek nodded at her in approval. "Ollie's right. Let's get ready."

There wasn't much in the way of getting ready but Stiles did come over to Olivia while Scott and Derek spoke a little more about their part of the plan.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he whispered to her; she could hear the worry in his voice and it made her stomach fill with butterflies. "You could get hurt."

"Allison's gonna be with me," she reminded him. "and it's not like we're gonna go storming in. This is a covert mission, Stilinski."

A smile made its way to Stiles' mouth. "Fine, fine," he conceded. "but be careful, all right? If you get hurt, I'll lose my fucking mind."

Olivia laughed lightly and pulled him into a tight hug, using her tiptoes to lay her chin on his shoulder. "I'll be careful," she promised; she knew he was serious about losing his mind if anything happened to her. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Livvy." Olivia hid her smile in his shoulder; she couldn't let him know that she actually looked forward to hearing him call her by that name.

(Gif is not mine)

#teen wolf rewrite #stiles stilinski x oc #stiles stilinksi x reader #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski fanfiction #teen wolf fanfiction #stiles stilinski x original character

46 notes · View notes

aquaticalay · 5 years

Text

Centurion .Chapter One.

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Sequel to For Something Greater (If you have not read this, click the link to the masterlist in my bio.)

Summary: (Y/n) is an active duty Navy SEAL Commander, the first and only woman to ever become a SEAL. After successfully stopping a genocide with the help of the Avengers, she becomes a bridge between the military and the earth's mightiest heroes. But even as her relationship with Bucky grows, she decides not to tell him about the nightmares and trauma that haunt her. Both their secrets begin to unravel when Bucky accidentally stumbles upon a piece of dangerous information about (Y/n) that she doesn't know about herself— something she must never find out about.

Genre: Action, Drama, Romance

Warning/s for the series: cursing, violence, death, eventual smut, PTSD.

Warning/s for the chapter: refenrence to sex and anxiety symptoms.

Word count: 2.5k

Note: The plot is heavily inspired by the song 'in the dark' by Bring Me The Horizon, and 'Mercy' by Muse. So yeah, go listen to it if you want to :))) I'll post a new chapter every two days.

Let me know if you want to be in the taglist

(Taglist will be reblogged)

TRIGGER WARNING! THIS SERIES REVOLVES AROUND POST-TRAUMATIC STRESS DISORDER. (Including, but not limited to: anxiety/panic attacks, extreme mood swings , nightmares, intrusive thoughts, insomnia, irritability, hypervigilance, and hyperarousal)

New York was crowded, as usual. It was a good thing you weren't headed into the buzzing crowd. You didn't have to deal with the subway odors that could sting until your head hurts, or being cramped in the middle 8 million people in the center of the city. You’re going upstate instead.

These days you tend to avoid crowds. Too many things can go wrong in a place with too many people.

You just got back from a month-long peacekeeping mission in South East Asia with your squadron. It was nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, it was quite dull in comparison to your usual military operations. There wasn't a single clash in the mission, and you were thankful for it. You really needed a break from the non-stop violence, both mentally and physically.

The rest of the white squadron went home to their families, getting all the rest and relaxation they could get before the next operation briefing.

And here you are, taking a flight to visit friends, and dying to meet your boyfriend. Meeting Bucky, however, was not the sole purpose of your visit to the Avenger's headquarters. You had a job to do as well.

As you drove inside the Avengers' HQ, you were greeted by FRIDAY, who allowed you into the facility.

You parked up front, exiting your vehicle and locking it with a push of a button.

Sam was the first one who greeted you, hands folded and waiting for you outside. Friday must have notified him of your arrival.

"Captain," you said in an almost teasing tone. You gave him a short hug and a pat on the back. He returned it with a smile. "Commander," he replied just as lightheartedly, a playful leap in his tone, "You're two days early. Buck told me you weren't coming back till' Friday."

You shrugged, a smile tugging on your lips at the mention of his name. "Things went better than originally planned," you told him, "Besides, I've got something for you."

The only person present in the common room besides you and Sam was Wanda, who was making chamomile tea on the kitchen counter. The smell of roasted leaves left a hint of sweet aroma in the air. It was a nice scent, a good change of pace from the primal earthly smell of the forests of Borneo. Neither she nor Sam looked tired at all, which lead you to believe there hadn't been any missions for them lately. You greeted her with a hug and a hello, as well as sitting down to catch up with them on the events that happened while you were away.

Sam told you Bucky was going for a run, and he'd be back soon. You don't mind waiting. You might not have all the time in the world, but you did have all the patience that you needed.

As you were telling them about your mission, you heard a familiar voice coming from the entrance.

"Sounds fun," Bucky commented. He smiled, drinking water from his bottle, his hair tied in an effortless bun. And when you say effortless, you meant he really didn't care what it looked like, as it was an utter mess. You were usually there to tidy up his messy hair. But when you weren't there, he can't seem to do it properly by himself. You had mentioned that a haircut would be more practical, and he said he'd think about it. He probably won't cut his hair unless it covered his entire face. You find yourself amused at the thought of that.

He was wearing a black shirt and some running shorts, a hint of moisture in his skin, only barely sweating from both the heat and the exercise. His demeanor was confident, but not cocky. He looked like he was in a good mood.

Of course he is. You're here.

You looked back, a grin on your face. "Someone went for a run without me," you mentioned playfully, raising your eyebrows.

You walked towards him, and when you got close enough, he pulled your waist closer to his.

With a lopsided grin, he let you lay a hand on his bicep and press a kiss to his lips. It was short, like an acknowledgement. That was enough for Bucky.

He looked into your eyes. Under the glinting excitement of meeting him, he noticed that you were exhausted. You had circles under your eyes. Though it didn't look too bad, he sensed that it had taken a toll on you.

Sam cleared his throat, making the two of you look his way. "Are you done, Romeo? Or do you want us out of the room?"

"Actually—" Bucky started to say, but you cut him off abruptly with a half-forced cough. He tilted his head in confusion. "We're done," you stated shortly giving him a look that said, later. A hint of softness gave depth to your pupil, and he trusted that later, he'd have more time with you.

Still, it was unlike you to act so rushed when you just got back. Last time you got back from a long mission, you had insisted to lazily stay in bed the whole day with him. He complied that day, and he was confident to say that day was spent well.

Right now, you seem restless, and this worried him.

You walked away from him half-heartedly. The reunion with Bucky wasn't one you had in mind, as it only flashed before your eyes.

However, your visit to the headquarters this time isn’t just to see Bucky. You had a message to deliver from the US military, specifically the special forces..

Everyone that you needed to listen was here, and it was better to get this over with sooner than later. You pick your bag up from the floor, rummaging with the contents inside until you manage to take out a single brown folder, a Navy symbol at the cover. You throw it on the table, where Sam and Wanda was sitting. You sat down on one of the stools, Bucky next to you.

Sam was the first to pick it up. When he flipped to the first page, he looked at you inquisitively, "A council?" He asked.

You nodded, "To overview relations between the avengers and the special forces," you explain.

"And you agree to this?" Wanda asked, taking a look at the files. You could hear her voice falter. There was a hint of distrust in her voice. You don't blame her. She, like most of the avengers, went through the complication that is the Sokovia accords. You knew they didn't do too well with any deals that involves the government, and if anything, the accord left a bad experience.

"I don't know yet," you admit, "All they told me is that this council won’t limit your movement. You're still in charge of your own actions and missions. The only difference is that you can call special operations for back up if needed, and we can do the same, too."

"Anything else?" Sam asked, waiting for more. You shook your head, wishing you had more information than a five-page summary file. ”That’s all they said to me," you told him, "Everything else is written there. You better read that carefully. Special Ops wants an answer by next week. You have Five days to decide if you agree to this council or not."

“What if we don’t agree?” Bucky asked.

“The Avengers and The Special Forces stays separate, and we’re not allowed to go on joint missions, or collaborate in any way anymore.”

Bucky wanted more details, but anyone with decent hearing could notice the hint of exhaustion in your voice, so he didn’t push you for more explanation.

It wasn't only the mission that drained every last bit of your energy. During the last few months, you worked hard on cleansing SEAL, tracking down every last trace of Hydra, sometimes being ten feet deep in investigations until 3 in the morning. On bad days, you can't even force yourself to sleep. Nightmares become more frequent. Your mind felt more noisy, descending into chaos. Even though the reports show that you've done what you set out to do, you can't help but feel more paranoid than you should.

This paranoia wasn't your alone. It also belonged to many special operations officers who were aware of the Hydra infiltration. This resulted in the proposition of the council.

Despite knowing and understanding firsthand where the idea of the council came from, you promised that you won’t decide where you stand until you hear reasoning from both the Avengers and the special forces.

You felt Bucky's metal arm gently placed on your knee. From the corner of your eye, you saw him glance at you. He didn't seem comfortable discussing about this. It makes sense, considering that he was a victim of the sokovia accords. He was trapped in the heart of conflict that tore the Avengers apart. He didn't want his family torn apart.

You placed your hand above his reassuringly, your thumb rubbing circles across the smooth metal.

"I don't like this," Bucky muttered, finally admitting his distress out loud. "The council, the deal. Feels all too familiar." He closed the door of his room behind him. You settled inside, dropping your backpack near his closet. Inside the bag was a few sets of clothes, enough to last you a few days. You took a shirt and sweatpants out for a change. Bucky moved closer to you, and you pressed a kiss to his collarbone in an attempt to comfort him. It felt like a flutter against his skin. "At least hear them out, okay?"

You pull back, looking into his eyes. He had a slight frown on his face. His steely orbs look ghostly pale, almost baby blue. The creases on his forehead ran deep, but the longer he looked at you, the softer the lines become.

He took a deep breath, his human arm caressing your cheeks. "I'm sorry," he told you, slowly closing the gap, "It's just a lot of bad blood."

You curled your mouth into a smile that helped Bucky ease his anxiety. It helped yours, too.

"I won't let anything bad happen to you, James," you promised, pressing your hand gently against his torso. He was convinced that your words were sincere, like every other promise that ever left your lips. The way you said his name was calming, almost therapeutic. It made him inevitably fall in love with you all over again.

"I know," he replied in a fragile whisper, the sound cracking in your ears. He didn't say it, but you knew he was promising the same to you.

Slowly, he placed his lips on yours, sharing a breath of air. It started slow, increasingly gaining momentum like coin dropping from a building, going faster and faster due to the heaving effects of gravity pulling it to the ground like he was pulling you into him. You find yourself helpless, melting into his arms. You were candle lit ablaze for too long, his cold arm taming your overbearing wildfire of a flame. He held you, tasting your tongue on his, moving ever so slightly so you don't break. His touch felt so desperate and longing, reflecting exactly what he felt after over thirty days apart.

He smiled into the gesture. A contagious move that you were addicted to.

You pulled away to catch a breath, but did not stop for long. Bucky pushed a strand of hair behind your ear affectionately before resuming the long-due kiss.

You dropped your fresh clothes to the ground, turning all your attention to him, like nothing else in the world mattered, or even existed. You carefully slid your hands under the fabric of his shirt, fingers caving into every curve that felt like connecting the pieces of a puzzle.

You longed for him. You missed his touch and his breath on yours. You missed his quirky habits and playful banter. It was hard for both of you to be away from each other, but you're willing to pull yourself together for this to work. Being a SEAL was a demanding job, and so was being an avenger. Both of you go on mission for weeks or months at a time, and there was always a possibility of not coming back alive. Every second you spend together counts, making up for lost time.That's why talk about the council can wait, it has to. As important as it seemed to be, it was a job-related stress that has been thumping in the back of your head for days and days on end, consuming your body. But right now, it wasn't that important. The man in front of you was important.

Besides, changing clothes could be done in other, less conventional ways.ways.

You woke up in cold sweat when you heard a sudden sound of ringing bells at five in the morning. You started breathing heavily, and it took a moment for you to calm down and realize it was the church bell ringtone you chose for your phone. Someone was calling you.

You've never appreciated whoever invented the silent mode more than you did now.

But you were a Navy SEAL. Even if you wanted to, you were not allowed to have your phone on silent.

Grumpily grogging awake, you propped yourself onto your elbow, yawning slightly.

You could see an interruption of Bucky's chest delicate rising and falling, his soft adorable snores turning into a hitched breath. Disturbed by the noisy bell sounds, he slowly opened his eyelids. "What?" He growled quietly, his words only barely coherent. He lifted his head a little in confusion.

You sat up, taking your phone. You pointed at it. "I have to take this," you explained, "It's work."

He nodded slightly, dropping his head back on to the soft pillow.

You saw the screen and read the caller ID: It was Diego Miller, one of the men in your squadron.

You pushed the blankets off of you as you hurriedly tiptoe to Bucky's balcony, so you could talk without disturbing Bucky's rest.

"Hello," you answered hoarsely, forcing your sleepy lips and tongue to form clear words.

"Commander," he greeted, "Are you in New York?"

"Yeah." You took a deep breath and rubbed your eyes, "What's going on?"

"We've got an emergency operation," he informed, his voice alert, "Command wants you here in four hours."

You looked at the time. "Give me five hours," you said.

He answered sternly, almost immediately, "Four hours," he repeated, "It's non-negotiable."

"What's so important about this?" You ask tiredly.

"It's Hydra."

You stop in your tracks. Your posture tensed, eyes suddenly narrowing into the horizon, "Oh."

"The Naval base in Brooklyn is arranging a sonic flight for you as we speak," he informed, "You need to go there now."

You took a deep breath, sudden determination overpowering the exhaustion of your body. If it was Hydra, you were more than willing to end this once and for all. "I'm on my way."

"One more thing," Miller mentioned, "Don't tell Barnes it's Hydra. This mission is confidential."

It was not something you would keep a secret from Bucky if you had the choice, but what Miller was telling you was an order from Command. You will not defy it. It will bring more harm to your position than good.

"Okay," you manage to say before finally closing the call.

You could hear the door slide behind you, Bucky lazily walking towards you. Without warning, he laid his forehead on your shoulder, bending down so he could hold your body close to his. He was wearing nothing but shorts, his skin prickly cold like an autumn breeze. His prosthetic arm was even colder, a similar temperature to freshly fallen snow.

"They want me in Seattle," you break the news to him, wishing you didn't have to. He hums in disappointment, nuzzling further into your neck, "when?"

"Now."

"Already?" Bucky dragged the words in disbelief, "but you only just got here."

You ran your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp to give him a sense of reassurance. "It's an emergency."

"What emergency?"

"I don't know yet," you lied, remembering the orders. You felt a pang of guilt, but you have to ignore it for now.

You pushed his chin from your neck to look in his eyes, "I'll be back before you know it."

Bucky nods.

You don't want to let go, but you know you have to.

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes series #bucky x reader #bucky imagines #bucky imagine #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan imagines #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut

162 notes · View notes

buttered-ghost-toast · 4 years

Note

Listen, if you don't fill out all of those numbers and tell me everything about your MC I'm going to feel robbed

Oh geez, fam! ...aight. That took me a minute. But below you will find out more about my girl, Niri!

1. What is their favourite food?—

Cheeseburgers and carrots.

2. Do they have a fear of an animal? If so, what animal? –

Not a fan of snakes, lizards, frogs, sharks.

3. What do they wear to bed? –

Shorts and a t-shirt. Sometimes nothing at all!! That had to stop when she moved into the HoL though. Brothers poppin’ in at all hours gettin’ an eyeful. Lucifer was upset.

4. Do they like cuddling?—

1000000000%. Niri’s a big ol’ cuddle bug. Asmo’s all about it. So is Beel.

5. Do they have a secret handshake with anyone? -- With Astaroth. It’s quite elaborate and they only ever do it when they decide to get up to trouble.

6. What do they look like? –

She cute if I may say so myselffff (don’t judge me, she’s a self insert hah!) Mid to slightly above average height for a human female, fairly toned. Brown eyes, mid-back length hair that’s brown at the root, fades to a teal and purple under layers. Sometimes her hair will fade to a light yellowy-green. She has the hookup for dye from Barbatos who likes to procure things for her from the human realm. She also has quite a few tattoos.

7. Do they like chocolate? –

Only dark. She’s allergic to additives in certain milk chocolates so she doesn’t eat it much.

8. What are their good and bad traits?

Good: Helpful, kind, encouraging, quite a hard worker in any task given her.

Bad: Easily swept up into trouble by others, will prioritize naps over other stuff sometimes, awfully flirtatious which gets her in hot water with Lucifer because apparently lesser demons keep poppin’ by the house with gifts also HUMAN, DID YOU REALLY JUST SAY THAT TO LORD DIAVOLO?! Oopsssssss~ Also, you know how Luci’s always doing the “MAAAAMMMOOOONNNNN…”…yeah, that’s almost always followed by “NIIIIIRIIIIIIIIII….”

9. Do they have any artistic talent?

Yes. She’s a musician so there’s that…and she likes to paint.

10. What is their favourite room to be in, in the house they live in?

She likes the music room since the boys tend to spend quite a bit of time in there together, but she’s usually found in the kitchen making loads of food and baked goods…also, that’s where you’re more likely to find Beel, and she reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeally likes Beel.

11. Do they believe in luck?

To an extent. She believes that luck exists, but she thinks relying on it is a bit naïve.

12. Can they do magic?

Like pull a rabbit out of a hat type thing? Yes. She picked up a few little tricks here and there from a friend who loves show magic. Def not the real stuff though.

13. Do they believe in dragons?

She didn’t until she went to the Devildom. Not that they just have dragons hangin’ out all willy-nilly, but she’s heard stories from the brothers and others about dragons.

14. What is a pet peeve of theirs?

Rudeness and liars who don’t give up even after they’ve been caught in the lie. Also people who demand things of others as if they’re property and not living beings with feelings …this isn’t about Belphegor at all. Nope. She doesn’t have issues with him still.

15. What was the last thing they cried about?

She was able to talk to all her bandmates at once for her weekly call home. They all just really miss each other, ok? It sucks that she has to lie to them about where she is because she knows they’re worried about her, but it was just nice to hear their voices.

16. What is their sexuality?

Pan.

17. Do they have a best friend? If so, who, and what makes them their best friend?

We’ll narrow this down to the Devildom. Niri gets along with everyone and literally loves all the beings she’s met and knows she could count on them for most anything, but there’s definitely a more solid feeling to her connection with Beelzebub. They sort of just get to be vulnerable and entirely open with one another and there is never judgement or ill will, even when Beel eats her secret snack stash…again.

She’s kind of getting to that point with Astaroth as well, but she can sense he’s still a little guarded in certain aspects, and she’s not going to push.

18. Have they ever been in a romantic relationship?

Yes, quite a few. It’s not her favorite thing to talk about since she’s been quite unlucky in that aspect, but hey, the past is the past.

19. What does their relationship with their family look like? Are they close? Distant? Ect.

Her actual family family (with the exception of her brother) are not close in the least. They’re sort of barely on speaking terms. Her chosen family (comprised of her band and some of the closest staff) is extremely close.

20. Do they have a pet?

No. She loves animals and had a dog up until recently, but they passed. It’s okay though, they had a good long life and it wasn’t painful for them when it happened.

21. Do they have a familiar?

Nope. Non-magical.

22. Are they a supernatural being?

Nope! “Boring” human, but she does seem to always find herself in weird situations that are sorta paranormal.

23. How do they usually wear their hair?

It really just depends on the day. If she had time to work on it, it’s down and straight. If it’s a rush in the morning (read: fight for the bathroom because Beel won’t MOVE) she’ll toss it in a bun or ponytail depending on how hot it is outside. There are the odd days when she’ll just let it vibe in its natural wavy/curly state, but she kind of got fed up with the brothers calling her a sheep because it’s so fluffy.

24. Can they play an instrument? If so, what instrument and what can they play?

Yes! She learned guitar and bass at a young age and was tinkering with drums before she was whisked away to the Devildom.

25. What type a high schooler are/were they?

She was the quiet weird kid that didn’t quite fit in with the weird weird crowd, but also wasn’t popular. Plenty of people knew her or of her, but she mainly stuck with her group of friends and was nice to everyone.

26. Have they ever been in a physical fight before? If so, with who? Who won?

Yes. Just small bits of violence. No one of import, tbh. But there was that one time they all went out to party at the fall and Mammon and Levi started teasing her and in her drunken state, Niri went to punch Mammon who managed to duck so she hit Levi square in the nose. He was fiiiiiiine.

27. What is their favourite holiday?

Halloween because it’s fun, Christmas because of the togetherness, and EASTER BECAUSE MARSHMALLOW PEEPS!

28. If they could have one wish, what would they wish for?

A pass to go from the Devildom to the Human realm and back whenever she wants forever.

29. Do they wants kids? If they already have kids, do they want more?

No. Never.

30. Do they have a job?

Yes? Being a singer in a band is a job, right? It doesn’t always feel like a job because it’s awesome, but it’s a job.

31. Do they know how to drive?

Yes. She has convinced Mammon to let her drive his car on a few occasions and every time they get back he swears NEVER AGAIN. She a little speed demon.

32. Do they get stressed out easily?

Funny story, actually…YES. But she is pretty good at not letting it show. So on the outside she’s like la-la-la~ but inside it’s all AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA~~~

33. Did they ever dye their hair before? If so, to what colour? Did they like it?

Absolutely lol. Niri has gone through a few colors in her life, but her favorite is and always will be the teal. (Fun fact: the purple came from a happy accident a few years back when she dyed over a pink shade and a layer turned out purple. She liked it so now she does it that way on purpose.)

34. Have they ever broken the law?

Never anything egregious, but she’s gotten tickets for stuff in the human world. Disturbing the peace, speeding, she was fined once (along with her bandmates) for a surprise free show they did in front of a train station which got a lot more attention than they were expecting and wound up shutting down a couple city blocks. Oooooooooopsss~

35. Do they own a plant?

She’s really bad with plants. REALLY bad. She was gifted a plant by Simeon a couple weeks into the exchange program and it took an embarrassingly long time for her to notice it was a fake plant…since he knows she sucks at keeping things alive.

36. Have they ever rode a horse before?

Once, and it was a terrifying experience so she just keeps her distance now.

37. What is their favorite gif?

anything featuring Titus Andromedon.

38. Do they get along with others easily?

She tries to. It’s not always possible, but she tries, dammit!

39. Do they have any tattoos?

Several, yes. One arm sleeve done, starting the other arm, both thighs have massive pieces on them and both ribs done as well. There are also a few small things on her fingers and back.

40. If I wanted to draw them, what would be distinct physical features that I would have to know to draw them correctly?

Lotta hair. Looooooottttta hair. And heavily winged eyeliner. Big lashes.

41. What is their favourite breed of dog?

Huskies. They’re just so cute and sassy! And perfectly sized!! Great cuddle buddies and fun to run with!

42. Do they live with anyone? If so, who?

Not in the human world, but she’s got 7 kinda irritating roomies in the Devildom!

43. Where is their dream vacation?

She’s traveled extensively, so there isn’t anywhere she dreams of going that she hasn’t already seen. Her favorite place is anywhere mountainous and lush.

44. Do they know more than one language?

Yep. Niri’s a language nerd. Because she likes to speak to fans and stuff, she has set it on herself to learn as many languages as she can. She’s not perfectly fluent in all of them, but it’s a good handful that she can hold a full conversation in. She and Satan like to practice with one another around the house, despite complaints from the others.

45. Are they a quick learner?

Depends. Most things, yes…..math and processes requiring math, NO.

46. Have they ever won a contest before? If so, what for? What did they win?

No, she’s not really the luck having type.

47. If the world were to end in 24 hours, where would they be and who would they be with?

Probably hugging Beel. They hug often. They’re kinda always together. It’s gross according to Leviathan and Belphegor.

48. What does their room look like?

She didn’t change much in the room she was given at the HoL. Just added her fake plant from Simeon and a few human things…she actually got the “Hang in There” kitty poster just for kicks. Lucifer hates it.

49. If they could have an extinct animal for a pet, what would they have?

A dodo bird. Because they’re weird and cool.

50. If they got called out by someone, what would they do?

Laugh and argue probably. Depends what they’re calling her out on.

51. Have they ever shot a gun before?

Yep. Actually enjoys shooting, it’s a fun stress reliever. She makes a point to drop by shooting ranges every once in a while back home.

52. Have they ever been axe throwing?

Once at a renaissance festival on an odd week of downtime. She didn’t do so well. The throwing was fine, but she never hit the target. Just be glad she didn’t hit a person either!

53. What is something that they want but can’t have?

At the moment, all the people she loves in one place.

54. Do they know how to fish?

Nope! She’s a mess with that kind of thing. Also, she doesn’t like the idea of fishing for anything herself. It makes her cry to think of the fish on the hook :<.

55. What is something they always wanted to do but too scared?

Hmm…Niri tries to live her life in a way that she won’t have regrets, so even if something is scary, she’ll pluck up the courage to do it. But…she still hasn’t jumped out of a plane.

56. Do they own their own baby pictures?

Absolutely not. She cringes thinking of the outfits her parents used to put her in, so she did her best to keep those kinds of things buried and acts like they never existed. Nope. Was never a baby. Nope.

57. What makes them standout among others?

Niri is a pro at pretending she’s confident, so she tends to draw attention when she walks in a room like she owns the place. Also her hair is kinda bright.

58. Do they like to show off?

Not really. She’s flamboyant in a sense, but she doesn’t go out of her way to call attention or to be center stage…heh.

59. What is their favourite song?

She can never pick, honestly. There are so many songs that are so amazing!

60. What would be their dream vehicle?

That’s a very good question. Probably something sitting in her garage back home. Probably being driven by one of her bandmates. Because hey, what are friends for?

61. What is their favourite book?

Not that she isn’t a big reader, but she doesn’t really get the time to enjoy books. There’s always something that needs attention or someplace to be and she’s required to engage, so focusing on a book or story is hard, but she’s a fan of classic novels, poetry, and Greek tragedies are always good!

62. Who, in their opinion, makes the best food?

She likes everything Barbatos makes and thinks Luke’s desserts are fantastic, but there’s something about a human recipe that just warms her heart, so…..herself. Lol.

63. Are they approachable?

Absolutely! If you can get past her intimidating resting face.

64. Did they ever change their appearance?

Not drastically, but she has gone through a few different phases until settling on a good one.

65. What makes them smile?

The silliness of those around her. Thinking of good memories with family/friends. Puppies.

66. Do they like glowsticks?

Yes. She has a stockpile of glowsticks that the brothers keep adding to.

67. What is something that is simple, but always makes them smile?

Watching the brothers bicker, even if it’s getting out of hand. It reminds her of her friends and how they always pick on one another.

68. Are they a day or night person?

Night, usually. Not that she dislikes the daytime, but day usually has so much stuff to be done whereas night is the fun stuff that doesn’t need a schedule.

69. Are they allergic to anything?

Some milk chocolate, bell peppers, and certain devildom plants.

70. What do you, the creator of this OC, like most about them?

She’s a spunky little thing who loves to have fun and make others smile above all else.

71. Who is their ride or die?

In the Devildom, Beelzebub and Astaroth.

Beel for most things, and Asta for the stuff Beel won’t do.

72. Do they currently have a significant other? If not, are they going to get one later one?

Erm…eh…look, it’s never been officially labeled or anything, ok? Like yeah they’re kind always together and have pet names for each other and like always touch and cuddle and like snuggle up in bed together and stuffffffffffff but like, idk? Is Beel her dude? Like….do we wanna even get into that?????? I mean, maybe someday? Like…what? What was the question??

73. What attracts them to another person?

A genuine heart, a killer smile, and a rockin’ bod. Yeah okay look everyone can be a little shallow sometimes okay get off her case >__<.

74. Who is one person that can always make them laugh?

She’s a damn fool and will laugh at ANYTHING, so it’s not hard. Everyone makes her laugh. The girl will 9 times out of 10 laugh at herself for the dumbest moments.

75. Have they ever partied too hard and their friends had to take them home?

Oh yes many times. Many many times. One of the first few times she hung out (went on a date) one-on-one with Beel they had a drinking contest and as it turns out, he can really hold his devil liquor.

76. Who would be their cuddle buddy?

She’ll cuddle up to Beel 99.9% of the time because he’s big and warm and always happy to hold, but she also really enjoys cuddling with Asmodeus. He’s such a sweetie and he smells so nice and they just snuggle and talk and laugh and it’s a nice escape. (Loads of times there are Asmo x Niri x Asta sandwiches in Asmo’s room.)

77. Who would cheer them up after a long day?

She tends to go to one of the brothers depending on what kind of day it’s been. Most of the time it’s gonna be Beel because again, big/warm/happy to hold her, but there are occasions where she’ll drag Beel to one of the others’ rooms and they’ll just hang out.

78. If they had a nightmare, who would they run to?

I mean…Beel. Lol. He’s right there.

79. What object to the care for the most?

She has a picture of her friends from back home that sits on her desk. She treasures that above all while she’s down in the Devildom.

80. Do they like other people’s children?

Sure. Kids are fine as long as they go back to their parents after a bit.

81. How would they react if someone broke into their home?

Seeing as there’s always someone coming into her room regardless if she’s there or not, she probably would just shrug it off. If someone decided to have a bad lapse in judgement and break into the HoL? She wouldn’t have to lift a finger.

82. Does anyone make them have butterflies in their stomach?

I mean….Beel. Lol. He so big and cute! Also Diavolo because he also big and cute.

83. What is something that they are good at?

Crying to get out of trouble. She’s a little shit. Lol.

84. What is their neutral expression?

Niri kinda always looks pissed off or uninterested? Until she smiles and you realize oh, she’s just a big ol’ faker.

85. Do they like to cook?

Yes. It’s one of her very favorite things to do!

86. What is something they can’t leave home without?

Her phone! (and Beel) but like, there’s just so much a phone can do!

87. Who is someone that they rely on?

Have I mentioned ever that Simeon is (or was at one time) Niri’s guardian angel? He seems to always be there and ready to help in any way, so she’s pretty reliant on him and hopes he feels the same toward her. (He does. Cue uwu’s)

88. Do they liked to be tickled?

Absolutely not. She’s extremely ticklish and hates being tickled. She flails and cries.

89. Have they ever been a sword fight before?

No. No she has not lol. Unless empty wrapping paper tubes count? She’s done that.

90. What is a joke that they would find funny?

All the bad ones. All of them. Ugly laugh here we go!

91. Do they have a place that can go and turn off their brain?

The gardens at RAD. It’s peaceful and there’s a great view of the sky.

92. What was their childhood like?

Not bad, but not memorable. There was a lot of pressure put on her to be a perfect kid, and she didn’t get to have a whole ton of fun.

93. What are they like as an adult?

Responsible, but definitely fun-loving. Like I mentioned before, she likes to live in a way that she won’t ever regret not having done something she wanted to do, or regret any actions she took, so she’s always got an open mind and welcomes new experiences. She’s a big ol’ kid.

94. Do they take criticism well?

Yes. She welcomes criticism in any form as she is always looking to be the best person she can be.

95. Have they ever jumped out of a plane?

No. Not yet!

96. Who do they like to make jokes with?

Literally anyone. A total joker. Big big clown.

97. Have you ever drawn them before? If you are comfortable with it, would you post a picture?

Yes! I draw Niri every once in a while. I actually need to draw her again soon! I miss that girl.

#asks for Butter #get to know Niri

16 notes · View notes

aerynwrites · 5 years

Text

Happiness

Arthur Fleck x Reader

Request: @glitterypinkkitty Hi! Could you please do Joaquin’s joker encountering poor reader being bothered by some rich dudes? Thank you :)

Warnings: cursing, violence, blood, sadness? idk lol

Word Count: 1,874 (whoops)

Author’s Note: Okay, I got kinda carried away with this one lol. I really enjoyed writing this but i feel like it may be out of character a little bit? I found it a bit challenging to write Arthur not in a terrible situation. Is that bad? I guess what i’m trying to say is that since all i have for reference is the movie, which is ALL negative and sad, It was hard for me to capture what he would be like not in those situations. SO, please let me know how you think I did! What can I improve on? What did I do well? any criticism is helpful. I hope you enjoy! thanks for the request!

-----------

“W-what do you mean its $32.84?” you stammer as you cast a panicked glance at your small group of groceries on the corner market counter. You check to make sure nothing extra was added to the pile, and upon confirming this fact you look back to the clerk.

“It’s never been this much Walter!” you’re getting hysterical now, you couldn’t afford the uptick in price, “I-it’s always been $22.73, every time, for the last however long I’ve been shopping here.”

Walter, the older balding man who owns the mini mart around the corner of your apartment sighs and gives you a look of pity.

“I’m sorry (Y/N),” he shakes his head, “but you’ve seen how things have been lately.” He looks out the glass doors and onto the street where various shouting and honking could be heard, “Gotham’s economy is tanking, prices are going up, and I have to pay my bills too.”

You feel tears prick your eyes as you look at the mere twenty-five dollars you had for groceries, and then back up at your pile on the counter. You glance from the milk, to the bread, and various other necessities, trying to decide what to put back. You were reaching for cans of tuna and bars of soap when you heard the familiar tinkling of bells, signaling someone had walked into the store

You glance up, still fighting back tears and recognize the man that walked in as your neighbor Arthur. He smiled at you, unaware of your un-shed tears, and you gave him a watery smile back before turning back to Walter. You hand him the cans of tuna and the soap; you would just have to live off peanut butter sandwiches and use more deodorant until you got paid next.

“Just put these back and I’ll pay for what’s left.” You spoke finally, frustrated that you couldn’t even afford the basics anymore. This city sucked.

You paid for the even smaller pile of groceries and took the brown bag from Walters hands, “Have a nice evening (Y/N).”

I sighed and waved absently over my shoulder as I walked out the door, “Take care Walter.”

You faintly heard Arthur and Walter chatting before the door closed behind you and you started walking towards your apartment. That whole grocery thing scared you. Working as a waitress paid enough so you could pay your bills, but now with grocery prices going up...what was next?

You were so caught up in your thoughts you didn’t notice the three men walking towards you, and by the time you did, it was too late to move. You bumped one of their shoulders and nearly dropped your bag but managed to stable yourself.

“I’m so sorry I – “you were cut off by a loud voice.

“Watch where you’re going dumbass!” the man yelled as he and his friends turned towards you.

You gripped your purse and bag tighter shrinking into yourself, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bump into you.” You apologized, biting back your scathing remark to avoid pissing them off.

But your attempt at passivity didn’t work as the man in question shoved your shoulder roughly causing you to stumble back, “Hey, I said I was sorry!” you snapped.

“Yeah well, if you knew who I was you’d realize that sorry doesn’t cut it.” he spat.

You started to back away from the three men but the tall one you bumped into snatched your groceries from your hand and threw them to the ground, causing the milk jug to burst and everything else to get soaked.

Anger built up in you, and you opened your mouth to retaliate but you felt another shove come from your backside and your beanie was ripped from your head. You heard loud mocking laughter as they continued to shout insults at you and shove you from one body to another.

You shoved back, pushing with all your might to escape this hellish cycle, “Get the fuck off me!”

You continued to fight back but before you knew it one of the men grabbed you around your shoulders and held you still as the other two leered at you.

“Or what?” they mocked.

You finally had enough of this bullshit and kicked your legs up off the ground shoving them into the tall guys stomach. He doubled over and you smirked, silently pleased at your action. Your silent celebration was short lived however, as the man holding you threw you to the ground. Before you even realized what was going on you heard a sickening crunch and a white-hot pain radiated from your nose.

You cried out as your hand flew to your nose in vain attempt to eliminate the pain, and soon you felt harsh kicks delivered to your body.

“Hey!” you heard a faint cry from the way you had come, “Hey, leave her alone! Walter call the police!”

The kicking stopped as you again heard mocking laughter retreat away from your curled up and beaten form. You heard a different set of footsteps come closer and a gentle hand laid on your shoulder.

“(Y/N), are you alright, it’s me Arthur.”

You slowly roll onto your back and sit up right, wincing at the shooting pain in your side. You look up to see your neighbor looking at you worriedly.

He helps you to your feet slowly and hold your arms to steady you, “What happened? who were those guys? Are you okay, do you need help?” you chuckle slightly at Arthur’s endless questions and shrug his hands off. You wipe you sleeve under your nose, trying to somewhat clean the blood from your face.

“I’m fine Arthur – well not fine per se but,” you lean down to pick up your discarded purse and groaned when you stood again, “I’ll live. They were just some rich assholes who had nothing better to do.”

You looked to your destroyed groceries and sighed, “I’m more upset about my groceries,” you motioned to the soggy pile, and looked to Arthur, “I don’t have any more money until I get paid next week.”

You felt panic gnaw at your stomach, what are you going to do until pay day? You have to eat.

Loud but strained laughter brought you back to earth and you looked to Arthur who’s pained expression didn’t match the laughter falling from his lips. You knew of Arthur’s condition, and even though you knew it wasn’t genuine laughter, you still felt the corner of your mouth tug upwards and a small giggle bubbled from your throat. Soon your giggles turned to full blown laughter and it didn’t subside until Arthur’s fit slowed too. You gripped your side lightly grimacing at the pain left from the laughing fit and tugged Arthur along towards your shared apartment building.

Arthur looked at you curiously as you continued to let out little chuckles as you approached your building. As you got in the elevator to go to your floor, he couldn’t hold back his question any longer.

“What was so funny?” he asked, “you just got beaten to a pulp, no offense, and your hard-earned money wasted. Does that not make you angry?”

You let out a humorless laugh and stepped off the elevator to your floor. You leaned against your door and looked to the lanky man in front of you.

“Honestly Arthur,” you turned your gaze to the ceiling closing your eyes in frustration, “I stopped being angry a long time ago. Now I’m just tired.” You looked at him, “I’m tired of living this way, living in a world, in this city where the rich and powerful shit on the rest of us, where life shits on us.” You shake your head and stand up straighter.

“Anyways, I should probably go,” you gesture to your door, “I better get cleaned up and patched up before I get too hungry, since it looks like i’ll be eating sleep for dinner.”

Your lame joke earns a chuckle from Arthur and he hesitates before speaking, “you can-“ he stumbles, “I mean, you could come over to my place?” it was more of a question than a statement, and he cringes at his own awkwardness, “I just mean that maybe I could help you and we have some left overs from dinner…” he trails off and stuffs his hands in his hoodie pockets, looking at you hopefully.

You smile, a genuine smile that hadn’t appeared on your face in a long time, and you reach out to grab his hand; motioning for him to lead the way.

“I would love that Arthur, thank you.”

He smiles widely and leads you to his apartment. He unlocks the door and lets you inside first before closing the door behind you. You immediately notice that it’s similar to your own apartment: small, run down, and smells like mothballs. You also notice it smells like cigarettes and a nice perfume, a smell that that you don’t hate.

Arthur’s voice breaks you from your thoughts, “You can sit on the couch if you’d like, ill go grab some stuff for your nose” he states as he walks down the hallway to the bathroom.

You hear him rummaging around, in the cabinets as you take a seat on the couch and take notice of what’s on TV. It’s the Murray Franklin show, you lost interest quickly considering you didn’t like the host one bit. He’s a jerk, making fun of people and calling it comedy...what a sham.

Arthur emerges from the bathroom carrying what looks to be pain pills and a washcloth, he sets the pills down on the table and sits next to you. He looks from the rag to you as if asking permission and you just give a little nod and turn to face him. He gently begins wiping the already drying blood from your face and turns your head to the side slightly.

“It looks broken,” he muses, “The bleeding has stopped, and you’re all cleaned up, but you should go get that checked out tomorrow.” He looks at you in a concerned manner and trades the washcloth for two Tylenol.

“Thanks,” you take the pills and swallow them quickly, eager for some relief from the dull throbbing in your face.

You both lean back into the couch and watch the TV for a while longer. You slowly turn your head to look at Arthur only to see that he is already looking at you. You blush slightly before grasping his hand in yours.

“Thank you, Arthur. You didn’t have to help me out there especially since it could’ve ended up bad for you too.” You look back at the TV, “and thanks for this, and the offer of food. I know you’re in a rough spot like me and it’s just nice to have a friend for a change.”

You look back at Arthur and see him sporting a wide grin, “Of course. I would do it again in a heartbeat. I would do anything for you.” He admits.

You give him a small smile and squeeze his hand gently; your way of reciprocating his feelings and turn to look at the TV once more.

You both sat there until the early hours of the morning, laughing at various Tv shows and comedians. And for the first time in a long time, both of you were happy.

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck x reader #joaquin phoenix joker #joker #joker 2019 #joker x reader #joker request

126 notes · View notes

brandossss · 4 years

Text

( tommy martinez , 24 , cismale ) i just bumped into brando esparza the other day while walking down east kingsboro , where he lives . i hear they can be brave and impatient , but when i think of them i immediately think of ( venezuelan pride , curly hair , going to the gym literally everyday )

tw : communism , corruption , poverty , violence , death ( suicide )

full name : brando nicolas estefano esparza

nicknames : just brando , if he really fucks with you you can get away with teasingly calling him brandy , but not even lolol

gender : cismale

height : 6 ′ 2

age : 24

birthday : august 4 , 1996

zodiac : leo ( aries moon , capricorn ascendant )

right handed or left handed : ambidextrous , but basically right handed

eye color : light brown

hair color : dark brown

piercings & tattoos : no piercings , this tattoo of venezuela right here , but on his left wrist

languages spoken : spanish ( native tongue ) and english

sexuality : pansexual / panromantic

place of birth : maracay , venezuela

last 3 songs listened to : llueve sobre la ciudad by los bunkers , yo te esperare by cali y el dandee , soñe ( unplugged ) by zoé

so brando was born to yessenia olivares and bruno esparza in maracay , venezuela . originally , he wasn’t supposed to be named brando . a fun fact & random little headcanon is that his mother & father had the full intention of naming him brandon , after his grandfather ( or father’s father ) , who passed a week before he was born . being both parents’ first born , his father got super nervous during his mother’s labor & basically ? got really wasted because he was practically crapping his pants about his son being born . when he went to sign his birth certificate , he was so drunk , he literally forgot to write the ‘ n ’ in brandon . once they realized the mistake his father had made , they didn’t want to go through the annoyance of changing his name , so , they went with brando , and surprisingly ? it really stuck & everyone loved it more than brandon kdjvcndfkcmn

he was an average kid tbh . his family was middle class & even though his country had been struggling ( for the lack of a better word ) for years now , he didn’t fully feel the economic fall at first , of course . now fast forward a few years & shit is changing right before his eyes , and he’s really ? just a kid

pretty much communism coming to it’s finest point tbh . all these restaurants , stores , businesses , all these places brando used to go to when he was younger ? done with , or just government owned & a blink away from breaking completely . it’s actually really sad because he’s literally watching it all happen , watching his country go down the drain & there’s really nothing he can do to stop it

his father becomes an active protester , along with many other angry venezuelans , but this does more bad than good . eventually his father gets arrested at a protest when brando is 11 years old . that was over a decade ago & up to this very day , present time , brando has no idea where his father is , if he’s well , or if he’s even alive tbh ( talk about trauma ? ) . it’s like one day he’s coming home , giving his only son a hug , & the next day , he completely vanished from planet earth , as if he’s some high profile serial killer when really , he was just protesting the shit communist government they’re living in

it’s just brando & his mom from that point on . of course , things just get worse with time . i’m not gonna get into details but basic poverty & communism tbh . they’re hungry , they’re broke , the country is just getting worse & worse with each passing moment ( hyper inflation , food scarcity , severe corruption , government abuse , do i even need to go on ? ) . all these things anger brando to no extent & he finds himself releasing his anger with his fists . it’s getting into random fights for no reason & screaming at anyone who even looks at him weirdly , pretty much becoming an angry ass kid

TW : SUICIDE , READ WITH CAUTION !! things are bad but they really hit rock bottom when his mother , surprisingly , commits suicide . brando finds her foaming at the mouth , a clear overdose , but by the time they make it to the hospital , she’s pronounced dead . literally a 15 year old boy , alone , in venezuela .... honestly terrifying . brando literally doesn’t know where to go ? on top of the trauma he’s holding he’s worried about his living arrangements as well . luckily , a friend of his allows him to stay at his house a few nights but this is just temporary

he just really wants to leave his country but he feels completely stuck . he’s depressed & angry as fuck but he’s determined to get out somehow . brando eventually contacts a family friend on facebook ( aka claudia’s mom ? ) & tells them his situation . it seems to touch this woman’s heart so much , she , wait for it , brings him over to the states . he spends his 16th birthday in america , with claudia & her family . the year is 2012

very slowly , but things begin getting better for him . he’s enrolled into school & pretty much gets guided through everything thanks to claudia . they are not blood related , but their families were so close at one point that they’re pretty much ? cousins tbh ! literally not blood related but still family

with his dedication & ambition he pretty much catches on completely in less than 3 years ( learning english of course ) , he loses his accent completely after 4 . he goes through a whole adoption thing with claudia’s family until he thankfully gains american residency thanks to them , which of course , eventually leads him to citizenship . instead of picking fights with people for no reason , brando takes out his anger with physical activity , becoming very much involved in going to the gym , or even just exercising by himself . whether it’s leg day , boxing , whatever it is , he loves any type of physical work , since it keeps his mind distracted

this has pretty much lead him to have quite a #body tbh . like .... it’s hella obvious he works out kdndjndjvnfd

he also developed a hobby for piano , after taking piano classes in high school , beginning of freshman year . he’s been playing since he was 16 , eventually buying a crap keyboard when he was 17 . he does piano covers on youtube , but again , this is really just a hobby of his

DEATH TW !! after the passing of claudia’s parents , her & brando move to kingsboro when they’re both 19 ! they share an apartment with lemon

on top of that , he’s a bartender @ blue ! he’s also a personal trainer . literally lifting 24/7 for him .... bless

he enjoys drinking on weekends & letting loose every once in a while but i don’t think he’s crazy about weed tbh . he thinks the feeling is nice , but he hates how it makes you hungry . would never go out of his way to buy weed & basically only smokes it if he’s offered , preferring alcohol , but again , he mostly just exercises & eats right , not really having any addictions of any kind , just little hobbies every one in a while

brando honestly ? considers himself lucky , despite all the terrible things he’s been through . he feels lucky that he left before things got really , really bad , even though they were already pretty awful tbh . anyone who hears his story would think he’s anything but fortunate but the truth of the matter is that he’s one of the lucky ones . not every venezuelan has had the opportunity to leave & he just feels very fortunate that he was one of the few that did

he’s not the type to take anything for granted tbh , very much the type of person who appreciates everything he has , no matter how small . you could literally get him a present from the dollar store for christmas & he would still be super happy about it . for him , it’s the thought & time put into something that counts , not the price , or the brand

he very much struggled with his sexuality for years . not because he was in denial or ashamed or anything , but for the longest time , he kind of just didn’t know what he was ? sometimes he thought he was straight but undergoing a phase , other times he wondered if he was gay , then he considered himself bi for a really long time . the truth is that he didn’t fully understand his sexuality up until not too long ago , when he began hanging with an lgbtq+ crowd . eventually , he realizes society basically labels him as ‘ pansexual ’ , but he doesn’t even really like to label himself ? brando just falls in love with the person , with their soul , & he doesn’t care what they have underneath tbh

i haven’t fully figured him out yet because he’s a new character but i picture he can be such a stereotypical leo sometimes , but , his whole #capricorn ascendant really does take place for him , in the sense that he can be a very difficult person to read sometimes . like is he happy ? is he upset ? is that just his face ? is he planning something ? you will rarely ever know tbh

he’s a very humble person , probably because of his childhood . he hates show offs tbh , or very rich people with no consideration for anyone . literally .... miss him with that bullshit lmfao . he finds the entire snobby or ‘ i’m better than you ’ attitudes to be so unattractive tbh ? you could be the hottest person on the planet but if he hates your attitude you really just don’t matter to him lolol

over all he’s a lot calmer than he was before tbh . he still has his moments but he’s a pretty stable guy in the sense that he no longer wants to beat up everything or anyone he see’s . he still has a ton of issues to work on but basically just doesn’t wanna go to therapy & doesn’t really talk about his past at all , preferring to ‘ live in the present ’ even though talking about his issues & sharing his pretty shitty story would definitely help him clear out his head but 🥴 it honestly probably won’t happen & he’ll probs just keep burying shit LMFAOOOO

very very hard working guy , ambition like crazy , always gives his all in anything he feels strongly about , he’s very good at persuading people tbh , usually gets told he’d make a ‘ great lawyer ’ because he just has this way of convincing you like ? he would never become a lawyer but the truth is that he would make a great one , persuasion skills like a MF

this is all i can think of now but i did his birth chart ting 🖤

#kingsboro.intro #everyone is asleep n no one is gnna read this but kjsfjvn yee

1 note · View note

a-simple-imagine · 5 years

Text

Queen Material - Chapter 3

Synopsis: It seems like Valkyrie has put some distance between the two of you since that awkward night. Nothing like a pasty drunk white boy (think a fraternity bro named chad type) to get you talking again.

Pairing: Valkyrie x fem!Asgardian!reader

Words: 1.8+

WARNING: Alcohol use, swearing, brief sexual reference and very mild mentions of violence.

After that very weird night with the King, you haven't really seen much of her. She hadn't been coming to the bar as often as normal. You kind of missed her lingering presence even if she didn't talk to you all that much. She was kind of like a badge of honor. A shiny medal, you could show off and brag about. You wanted them bragging rights back. But she only came in every so often and you hardly spoke. Every so often she'd catch your eye and offer a smile. You don't think she was avoiding you otherwise why show up at all? She could just come in when Kyle was in charge - which wasn't nearly as often as you were but still - so you imagine all her drinking is being done at the palace. She must have a great variety of liquor at her disposal so she didn't really need to go to your bar at all. Despite it all, you can't help but wonder what had brought Valkyrie into your bar that night. Had she planned it? People only get that drunk when there is something wrong. What makes the mighty king of Asgard tick?

Cloth in hand, you wipe up a spill as you listen to the woes of some lonely Midgardian traveler. He was looking for sympathy but you had none to spare. Staring off into the distance at the king who was nestled in a booth, arm wrestling with a group of locals. She had won every round so far but the guys weren't going down without a fight.

"So are you like... one of those people?" He drags your attention painfully back to him. You can't be sure if he's intentionally being rude or it's just casual so you take no offense. Offering him a tight-lipped smile, you stop to give him your undivided attention.

"If by those people, you mean an Asgardian then yes, I am."

"A-mazing," He practically slurs, reaching over the bar as his dirty eyes take you in. "You can't even tell the difference. You're fuckin' fit though."

"I can certainly tell," You disguise your words in a sigh, taking a step away from him. "Thank you though... I think?"

"It means you're attractive," He whisper-yells his explanation. Your eyes flicker to Valkyrie as she laughs loudly in the distance and then back to the Midgardian.

"Okay," From context, you had already figured out that fit meant attractive.

"That was a compliment,"

"A compliment I already thanked you for," You shot back.

"What's the difference between humans and you people?"

"Well," you started, kinda feeling like you needed a drink the longer this conversation happened. "for one we don't like being called you people. I am Asgardian. " You state proudly. "I guess one of the biggest differences is our strength and life span."

"Are we the same all over?" He asked, a smirk spreading over his pink lips. "I would love to find out."

Was that supposed to be flattering? You couldn't help but cringe "...ew."

As quiet as the words came out, it was clear he heard them and he was not pleased. "Too good for me huh? You fucking bitch." He spat. "You Asgardians really think you're better than everyone else."

At least he finally used Asgardian in a sentence even if he was trying to offend you.

"What was that?" Valkyrie walked up behind the blonde, towering over him like the beloved king she was. A few burly looking regulars stood behind her. "You have something against my people?"

He spun on the stool, knocking over his glass of beer in the process. You close your eyes and sigh to yourself. "Who the fuck are you?"

"The King of Asgard." She replies firmly, standing tall. There was a silent challenge behind her words.

The man bursts out laughing, completely unaware of the consequences. Disrespecting the king was not something to be taken lightly. "You can't be serious,"

"Choose your next words carefully, Midgardian."

You watch the exchange more than amused by the way her eyes narrowed in and her hands went to her hips. You slowly reach for a packet of crisps to munch on while the events unfold. It was almost like they were having a stare off except Valkyrie had like three huge guys backing her up.

"You know, as our king, she can have you executed right?" You add casually, bitting into a crisp with a loud crunch. "Haven't had a good beheading since Hela took over Asgard."

"You're telling me this little girl is in charge? No wonder you lost Asgard."

It was one thing to objectify you. It was another to make fun of the king. But to outright disrespect your homeland and its people was unacceptable. New Asgard was great, you were grateful to Thor for finding you a new place to settle but Asgard was the place that held your memories. The room was suddenly thick with tension and as angry as you were, you couldn't let this escalate into the fight that was brewing. "Actually we were under the rule of Hela at the time. The daughter of Odin and goddess of death so I suggest you leave before you say something that'll get you killed."

"But-"

"The lady asked nicely," Valkyrie interrupted. "So leave because I won't be so nice."

A weird silence came over you all, interrupted by how crunchy your snack was. You could practically see the gears turning as he debated his next actions. Thankfully, he got off the stool and headed out the door; smart movie. Jumping into his grave, the king took his place at the bar. Dismissing the men behind her who were clearly just there to make her seem more intimidating. "Seems like I jumped in at just the right time."

Placing the packet of crisps off to the side, you clean up the spill from earlier. "You really didn't need to do that, I'm used to dealing with arseholes like that.

"Must be exhausting."

There's a part of you that wants to remind her of that night she decided to invade your day off but you don't. You just flash her a smile before retreating into the back to collect a beer for her.

"Here. On the house." You slide the glass bottle over to her. It was the least you could do considering she decided to hijack your conversation which made it all the more enjoyable.

After a moment, you see a flash of realisation and her face lights up. Glancing from the large brown bottle to you. "Is this what I think it is?"

You return the smile, nodding a little. "Most Midgardians can't handle the heat so I keep they locked in the back. Don't want my bar being burnt down."

Using a small dagger that came from god only knows where Valkyrie pops off the cap. It falls to rumble against the countertop as a small flame shoots out of the bottle. She quickly blows it out and takes a swig. "You spend far too much time in this place,"

"Ha, I could say the same about you," You quip, the sarcasm more than evident in your tone. You instantly regret it, unsure about how well she would take it. "I'm sorry, your majesty."

"Sorry for what? You're right," she chuckles, taking another but smaller sip of beer. "But you practically live here. Don't you get tired of serving idiots day after day? You could afford a little more time to yourself

"This bar is like my child. It's pretty much all I have since Ragnarok and I've watched it grow. Sure, you get the odd few who make your job tedious," You explain, radiating your shoulders in a small shrug. "I don't mind though, I love what I do. And I save money on staff if I do most of the work."

You weren't sure she was actually paying attention because her eyes seemed drawn elsewhere but then she glanced towards you. "Everyone needs a break."

"I allow myself the odd day off."

With the bottle to her lips, the king downs the rest of her beer before settling it on the bar with a loud clang. "Then it's settled." You wait for her to elaborate, brows knitting together as she takes an oddly long pause. "Tomorrow you're taking a day off."

You had a full shift tomorrow and it was Saturday which meant it was generally busier. If the sun was out like predicted you'd also get more guests. You don't want to leave that to Kyle. Not because you don't trust him but because he wasn't supposed to be working. "I can't just take a day off."

"You can and you will. Get that scrawny blonde fellow to take over."

"You mean Kyle?" You question. Was she just bad with names or...?

She gives you a firm nod. "Let Kyle take over."

"I can't-"

"That is an order, fair barkeep." She declares, sliding her empty beer bottle towards you. And so we're back to barkeep. "Going against my wishes could be considered an act of treason. You wouldn't defy your king now, would you?"

There was so much wrong with that sentence in the sense she was not only abusing her power but also manipulating you. Of course, you wouldn't defy your king. You'd always had a lot of respect for the rulers of Asgard. Odin, Thor, even Hela despite the fact she did some atrocious things: which you did not partake in. The verdict was still out on Brunnhilde. With a heavy huff of breath, you begrudgingly agree. "Fine, I'll see if I can get Kyle to cover for me."

"Just tell him, you'll be serving the king," She adds, giving you a warm smile. "It's not a lie considering we'll be spending the day together."

"We will?" You're confused as to why she would even want to spend the day with you. You had nothing to offer her and your not sure how great company you'll be. She smirks, giving you a firm nod. "What will we be doing?"

"I... do not know yet but I will think of something."

"I'm not sure about this.

The woman jumps down off the barstool, "Doesn't matter, I'm not giving you much of a choice here, now can I get another one of these? Add it to my tab. " She points at the bottle and you comply, returning with a bottle in hand. She takes it and turns on her heel "Now if you'll excuse me."

Valkyrie surveys the establishment before heading to a table where a pretty brunette sat alone. You watch as she pops the cap and the brunette's face lights up much like the king's earlier but probably for a different reason; She seems Midgardian. You continue to observe until you're summoned to the other end of the bar. Plastering on a smile, you walk down the bar. "So What can I get you, sir?"

PREV // NEXT

Tagging per request: @iconicwlw @sarcasticmami

#valkyrie x reader #valkyrie #brunnhilde x reader #brunnhilde #Tessa Thompson

96 notes · View notes

whereisten · 5 years

Photo

Traces

Summary: Violet is a blossoming filmmaker with her own demons. When man of the night Taeyong comes into her life, she realizes that demons are very much real. She will have to endure the consequences of trusting the one person she should’ve steered clear from.

Genres: Romance, A Pinch of Smut, Fluff for Days, Comedy, Drama, Angst, Thriller, Horror, Fantasy

Cast: Taeyong, Yuta, OC (the bad bitch that you’ll get to know as Vi)

WARNING: Mentions of Death, Language, Alcohol, Addiction, Violence (this writing in no way represents the members mentioned, all events are fake).

________________________________________________

CD 1: Intro - Track 1 - Track 2

Word Count: 7.7k

It was a busy Friday night at BOSS Karaoke Bar, my dad’s place. He was out for the night and entrusted his official manager Hani and assistant manager me for the weekend while he was out of town for a bar owners’ convention in Newark.

BOSS Karaoke Bar was located smack dab in the middle of Sunset, Florida. Sunset was a coastal, metropolitan town with high rises and trains running for hours on end. Celebrities and other prominent figures resided and visited all the time so it was always a pleasant surprise to see a popular basketball player or an international music artist come to BOSS. It definitely helped business boom and thankfully, BOSS was stronger than it had ever been.

Dad built the business from the ground up from the time he immigrated to the States. He worked as a dishwasher, a waiter, and a bartender among other odd jobs until he was able to attain citizenship and attend the Sunset University for Business Administration at the age of 28. He met my mom around that time and after his graduation, mom had me and a year after that, she had Janine. My dad worked his way up in management at bars and restaurants all over Sunset. Then, he discovered karaoke when mom suggested it for one of their date nights. And well, the rest was history.

“Hey, Vi. Do you think you can take over for a bit while I make a few phone calls?” Hani asked me. No doubt Hani was going to juggle her several gentlemen callers for the weekend and she had to iron out some details.

“Sure!” It wasn’t even that crazy at the moment. I checked the upcoming reservations for karaoke for the next hour and saw that there were only two parties I needed to check in. It was 10:30 PM and sometimes there were walk-ins.

A few minutes passed when Hani returned to her post. “What do you think? Should I give Joshua or Hansol a shot?” She asked as she adjusted her sky high boots, earning an admiring look from two girls who were headed to the restroom.

I’d been through this with her several times and while it was humorous, I wanted the best for her. “You know I can’t answer that.”

Hani laughed, music to everyone’s ears. “Sure you can! I’ve been wracking my brain over it for weeks now and they’re both starting to get...on edge.”

“What…”

“Let’s just say the three of us aren’t welcome to Whole Foods for the next month.”

“Really?” I shot her an incredulous look.

“How was I supposed to know that they both liked to buy their orange juice from the same place I do?”

One of the karaoke rooms, although muddled, became significantly louder as the group all sang along to “Sorry Not Sorry” by Demi Lovato.

I thought about Hani’s dilemma. I never understood love triangles. They were fun on TV shows but in real life, I couldn’t imagine being torn between two people. Torn between two snacks at a vending machine? Yes. Torn between two movies? Absolutely. But two different people? No. I think I would just know when I got to meet that certain someone.

“Hani, if you can’t decide between the two of them, then maybe...you don’t like either of them enough to really decide?” I asked.

A group of men and women came into BOSS and approached the front desk. At the forefront was an attractive dark brown haired man with piercing brown eyes and a jawline that could probably slice me up into delicate slices if I rubbed him the wrong way. Something about him had me on edge.

Maybe it was just the jawline.

He smiled at me and my thighs pressed harder against each other. Well, that was new. It had to be a record to turn someone on with just a look.

His smile made me feel like he just ripped off my black top and slacks and he liked what he saw.

Uh oh.

“Hi,” he said. Jesus, his voice was like velvet.

“Welcome to BOSS,” I croaked. Get it together, I told myself.

From the corner of my eye, Hani chimed in, “I think you can handle this, Vi. Toodles!” She sauntered off to the employees’ lounge.

I turned swiftly to Hani. “Think about what I said!” I doubted she heard me.

The man laughed, almost like he was in on what Hani and I were talking about.

“Sorry,” I said as I reluctantly turned back to him. He was so pretty it hurt to stare at him for too long. Not like I had the nerve to do so. I felt like I would turn to stone from maintaining eye contact for too long. Once I let myself meet his eyes...he had a hold on me. I couldn’t explain it. “Do you have a reservation?”

“No, I’m afraid not.” He said as he proceeded to eye me up and down. Shamelessly.

My cheeks, typically flushed because of genetics, were blazing now. Hopefully, my foundation concealed that fact but by the trace of humor in his expression, I knew I wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Do you guys have any EXO songs?!” One of the man’s friends, a bombshell in a wine red skin-tight sleeveless number, asked me. She was buzzed but friendly enough.

I answered. “Yes, we do. Would you guys like to make a walk-in reservation? We have rooms available.”

The man nodded. “Yes, please. We would like the VIP lounge experience if that’s possible.” The VIP lounge experience included unlimited drinks and food platters of their choice. It also included up to 3 hours of the karaoke room.

Of course, they were rich. Or maybe they were just really treating themselves. Dad reminded me that there were people who were willing to pay a lot for the VIP experience and we more than embraced it for the business. “Okay, awesome. How would you like to pay?” Anxiety had me a little less than thrilled that there were 10 people that may want to split checks but the man interrupted my inner reverie.

“Under Taeyong Lee.” He pointed at himself and grinned, possessing a boyish charm in that instant.

I was thankful I had my computer as a distraction because I was about to melt under his stare. He was paying for the whole group? “All right. That will be $1,480. How will you be paying?”

Taeyong handed me his American Express black card. I took it from his hands and incidentally, his fingertips touched mine.

His conspiratorial smile never left his face as he watched me charge his card.

I printed out his receipt so he could sign the merchant copy of it. I handed him his card, the receipt, and pen for him to sign and feared he would touch me again when he handed them back. I was about to get a nosebleed, I could feel it.

He swiped the receipt and pen back across the counter to me. “Thank you.” He smiled more softly.

Well, that was a little better. I was still turned on but I wasn’t about to come in my pants. He was probably a huge flirt at whatever conglomerate he worked at because, getting a better look at him, he wore a well-fitted black suit and tie. He was a little too formal for a karaoke bar. Maybe he was coming from somewhere else? I wondered where-

“Um...Violet?” He read my name tag.

I blinked a few times in succession. “Y-yes?”

“Are we good to go?” He asked.

“Oh, yeah! Let me take you guys to your room.” I got the key to VIP Room 3 out of the secured drawer and stepped out from behind the front desk.

“Follow me, please,” I said, quickly so I wouldn’t keep questioning if Taeyong was eye fucking me.

I could feel him right behind me as we walked through the dark hall, illuminated by a subtle starlight effect and some strobe lights shining from the karaoke rooms’ windows.

We reached the VIP lounge. I unlocked the door for them and motioned for the group to enter. Once Taeyong headed in, I let out a breath of relief as the rest of his friends walked in. They were all attractive, with luminous skin and elegant clothes. They were all from high society and my guess was that they came from some charity function.

“Okay, so you guys are set. There are thirteen mics and there are three song selection tablets on the table by the TV screen. The menus are also available to you. I’ll have ViVi come and take your orders in the next few minutes. So make yourselves comfortable and enjoy!” I went through my awkward spiel, only to realize Taeyong was the only one paying attention.

Some of Taeyong’s friends yelled out “thank you” and “gamsahamnida”. I nodded as I left and shut the door. I sighed as I pressed my back against the wall adjacent to the door. I could finally process what happened. I knew that wasn’t all in my head. Taeyong was flirting.

And it probably meant nothing to him.

I walked back to the front desk where Hani was speaking to a few regulars. They left shortly after.

“He was interested.” Hani said conspiratorially.

“In the drink selections, maybe.” I checked my phone for notifications. I had a countdown app installed in my phone. I was two months away from attending the Thorne Gala. That sent a ping of excitement down my spine.

“Come on, Vi. I could sense the electricity.” Hani placed her hand on my shoulder.

“Some would say my awkwardness is palpable,” I shot back.

Hani rolled her eyes. “I bet he’ll come visit us before his reservation ends.”

“Oh, well that’s not fair. He’ll probably have a question about the-”

“Excuse me,” a third voice interrupted.

Like clockwork. Taeyong was back. I wondered if he meant to look at us like he wanted to hook up or if that was just a default setting for his features.

And then he smiled. I felt a sense of warmth radiating from him that I didn’t expect. I gulped.

“How can I help you?” I asked.

Hani muttered. “Eager to ask, aren’t you?”

I elbowed Hani’s side while Taeyong spoke, “I think this is yours.”

He brought his hand out to show my mood ring. The left half of the ring’s center was shaped like a crescent moon and the right half was shaped like the sun. In between the sun and moon was the gem that changed colors. My maternal grandmother gave it to me before she fell ill and shortly after passed. I rarely took it off.

Then I recalled I was fiddling with the ring in my hands and must have slipped it into my pants pocket. It must have fallen out while I was taking Taeyong and his friends to their room. That was odd. It was second nature for me to always put it back on my right ring finger.

“Oh, wow thank you.” I reached my hand out to take the ring back. He dropped the ring in my hand. I was so relieved to have it back in my grasp, putting it right back on. I glanced up at Taeyong. He blatantly stared. “I have to be more careful.”

He nodded. “You should.”

Hani lifted her eyebrows. “How did you know it was hers?”

Taeyong widened his eyes as I came to that realization.

“Lucky guess.” He shrugged immediately after but there was a trace of mischief in his eyes, if my suspicions were correct. And with that, he returned to his room.

A few hours went by and Taeyong’s group was the loudest of the bunch. It was to be expected. They just wrapped up an awe-inspiring performance of Ring Ding Dong by SHINee.

Hani yawned as she organized some files at the desk. I was tapping my recently done nails against the marble.

I was surprised that Hani didn’t press me about my nerves and how I wanted to see Taeyong again. The look he gave me when we asked him about my ring was an indicator of something. I just couldn’t figure out what that was.

Hani exclaimed. “Holy!”

I yelped. “What is it?!”

“Your little boy toy just showed up on my timeline.”

“My little…” I began skeptically as Hani shoved her phone to my face to show me a picture of Taeyong attached to a Korean news article she found on Tweetness.

“Lee Taeyong is the heir of Seoulmate Entertainment,” Hani explained to me. The article highlighted on Taeyong’s US adventures. Before Sunset, he was in Los Angeles. Before LA, it was Nashville. Before Nashville, it was New York City. He was a busy bee.

I gasped. “Wait, Seoulmate Entertainment? As in South Korea’s number 1 entertainment company? That Seoulmate Entertainment?”

Hani nodded. “I knew he looked familiar. I just didn’t think he would ever come to this part of the States. He and his inner circle usually go to Los Angeles. That’s the American hub for K-pop.”

“Then what brings them to Sunset?” I wondered.

“Sunset is a growing town with a lot to offer. And there was probably some shindig downtown. Did you see that Oscar de la Renta tux?” Hani’s eyes had a glimmer in them. Fashion was everything to her. She knew all of the brands and kept up with all of the latest lines. I knew the difference between a skirt and a skort and that was enough for me.

I had no idea how Hani knew Taeyong’s tux was Oscar de la Renta. I was still processing that he was a prince of the K-Pop kingdom. If not, the prince.

Fantastic. Another intimidation factor.

Just as we were digging deeper into the Taeyong topic, we heard a crash from one of the rooms. I jumped.

Hani huffed. “It better not be one of the champagne glasses.”

We were used to hearing glass break every now and then. I never enjoyed it. In this business, though, we had to be prepared for some drunk and rowdy customers.

I left my post to see what all the fuss was about when I heard glass break again and discovered that it was coming from Taeyong’s group. A wave of dread came over me.

I opened the door carefully, hoping no one else would throw anything.

I got a good look at the room. There were two broken champagne glasses on the floor, alcohol splattered all over. One couple was making out in the corner. One group was arguing while another was singing an OST. And in the left corner of the room, Taeyong was comforting a girl seated beside him. She was completely wasted, slumped over but still breathing. Taeyong looked tense as he ran his hand up and down her back. Once he saw me, his expression darkened. Like he was caught doing something I shouldn’t have seen.

I asked, “Everything okay? I’ll have someone come and clean up the mess. I have to charge the broken glasses to your account. Please step away from the-”

“No, that’s alright. We’re okay for now...We’re leaving soon. I’ll pay before we leave. I’m sorry about this.” He tried to sound casual, shrugging, like it was just one of those days that happened every now and then. How it couldn’t be helped.

And I could tell he wanted me to leave. I could see the pleading in his eyes.

I eyed the group warily. “Alright then…”

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Thank you.”

I returned to the front desk. “Well, Final Fantasy and his friends are having quite the night,” I said.

“Oh? Do tell,” Hani prodded.

“It’s a party in there all right. One girl, especially, is drunk out of her wits. And there’s some drama. I wouldn’t know what it’s about but if you have the balls to go and check again after Taeyong told me to skedaddle, be my guest.”

“Sounds like Master of the Universe is hiding something,” Hani said.

“If something breaks again, I’m gonna have to do something. I don’t want to charge him for more broken property or call the cops.” I could feel the tension in my jaw from clenching my teeth.

“Trust me, he’s not worried about paying for a couple of champagne glasses. And he can make bail, too,” Hani pointed out.

That didn’t impress me one bit.

After another hour, now 1:30 AM, nothing else had escalated. When I was about to ease up, the group exited the VIP lounge. I could hear some of them arguing in Korean. Taeyong was directing his frustrations at another nicely dressed man who had the supremely drunk woman on his back. The man yelled back at him and nearly lost his balance.

Why would any of them trust a drunk man to carry a drunk woman? It was ridiculous.

Taeyong made an attempt to pull the woman off of the man’s back but the man went ballistic, exclaiming what I would guess were profanities.

The man finally dropped the girl and I was close enough to catch her. Hani was right beside me to help her up. The man was squaring up for a fight with Taeyong as he started throwing punches in the air and finally landed one neatly in Taeyong’s perfect face.

Hani exclaimed in Korean. What she said must have been along the lines of “get the fuck out”.

The man was about to throw another punch when Taeyong grabbed his fist and twisted his arm. Taeyong pulled the man to him and muttered a few things into his ear. The man slouched as Taeyong released him. The man was now silent and oddly enough, compliant. I frowned, more confused and frightened by Taeyong.

Taeyong’s disturbed demeanor shifted as he apologized to us. “I am so sorry about my friend. He had too much to drink tonight so he lost his cool for a moment. He should be fine now. We’re leaving. May I?” He nodded towards the drunk girl.

I eyed him and his friends warily. “Is she safe with you?”

Taeyong nodded. “She was a little in over her head tonight.”

“No kidding,” I replied. I winced when the girl shifted in my grasp. I needed to lift weights more often.

“I’ll drive her home,” Taeyong insisted.

“How do I know you will?” I demanded.

“What do you mean?” His eyes got a little bigger and I was even more confused about his true nature. All I saw was contradiction upon contradiction.

“I don’t know if she’s going home with someone she can trust.” As enticing as Taeyong was, I knew better than to blindly trust a pretty face.

“I’m a man of my word, Violet.” There was no trace of the humor and charm he carried when he walked into the bar.

I didn’t relent. “Why should I believe you?”

He sighed and deliberated for a few seconds. “If it puts your heart at ease, come with me.”

“What?” I asked.

“You can drive with us. Make sure Miri gets back to her apartment and I don’t take her to my sex dungeon.”

I wouldn’t put it past him to have one.

“Taeyong.” I gave him a pointed look.

“Will you?” His eyes were doe-like.

“I-“ I started.

Hani warned, “Vi, you just met the guy.”

My shift doesn’t end for another 15 minutes. And to go with two strangers? Granted, one was drunk. But as for Taeyong...

If I looked up “lethal” in the dictionary, I’d be sure to find his picture.

I wanted to make sure this girl made it home safe, though. And beneath my hostility and nerves, I hoped to get a further glimpse at the enigma before me.

I asked Hani. “Will you guys be okay to close without me?”

Hani was about to protest again but stopped. “Text me, please. Your dad would kill me if anything happened to you.”

I nodded. Hani let Taeyong and me carry Miri. Taeyong was on Miri’s right and I was on her left. She was a little off-balance considering the height difference between Taeyong and me. It was a good thing I wore my wedges today or else we would’ve looked even more ridiculous.

I looked up at Taeyong. “All right, here’s how it’s going to go. We go in my car. You give me the directions to Miri’s place.”

Taeyong raised a slit eyebrow but he accepted. “You got it.”

Hani warned, “Be careful.”

I smiled at her reassuringly, “Nothing is going to happen, except...Taeyong?”

He adjusted Miri on his shoulder. “Yeah?”

“That will be $150 for the broken glasses.”

“It’s bold of you to go out with a stranger, isn’t it?” Taeyong asked from the backseat. I pulled out of my parking spot in the parking garage adjacent to BOSS. He provided me with Miri’s address that I put on Good Maps.

I rolled my eyes. “This is well past my comfort zone, sure.”

“Can I go home now?” Miri asked.

Miri sat in the passenger seat. She was now more tipsy than far gone. She had long thick brown hair that fell way past her shoulders, down to her hips. Her gorgeous bronze skin was adorned by the reflection of the street lights and neon signs.

“Don’t worry. Taeyong and I are taking you home,” I said.

She grinned. “Aren’t I lucky? What happened to Baekhyun?”

I assumed Baekhyun was the drunk guy who punched Taeyong.

Taeyong replied, “Shownu took him home. Baekhyun will text you in the morning.”

Miri nodded. “Sounds good.”

I raised my eyebrows at this exchange.

I could feel Miri stare at me. “I don’t know you but...I like you.”

Taeyong chuckled at that.

My eyes never strayed from the road but I replied. “I’m Violet. I’m just making sure you get home safe.”

“Thanks Violet...Taeyong’s a nice guy...Stuck up but nice…”

Taeyong scoffed at that.

“Well, that’s what you get for wearing that suit,” I muttered after we reached a stoplight and met his stare in the rearview mirror. His eyes were sharp and alert. Like he wouldn’t dare look away from me. It sent pleasant shivers down my spine, I admitted.

Taeyong asked, “What was that?”

I blushed. “Nothing..”

Miri giggled. “Keep your eyes on the road, Violet. Or else Taeyong is gonna land you a ticket.”

I faced the road again. Taeyong cleared his throat. The light turned green again.

“So Violet...how do you know Taeyong? Are you maybe one of his…” She started giggling.

“His…?” I wondered. Was I one of his playthings?

Taeyong cut right in. “No, Miri. She’s not. We met tonight at BOSS. She works there.”

“Oh yeah! You were so nice! And you’re really pretty.” Miri said as she laid her head against the window. She fell asleep not too long after.

One long agonizing minute passed. All the while, I had music quietly playing in the car from my recently played playlist. The song was “Amigos con Derechos” by Reik and Maluma.

Taeyong exhaled like he was just as tense as I was. “So Violet, what’s your story?”

“My story?”

“I’d like to know more about the pretty stranger in the driver’s seat.”

I nearly sputtered. “You don’t mean that.”

“Oh, I do. You caused quite the scene back there. So...I’m intrigued.”

Did he really just say that?

“Oh, I caused a scene?” I asked a little too quietly.

“Yes?” He sounded unsure now that he heard how annoyed I was. It was refreshing to hear him like that. Contrary to how he seemed: confident and owning any space he existed in.

“It was you and your friends that made a mess,” I said pointedly.

“What? I paid for it.” What a response.

“Are you kidding me?” I laughed.

“What?” He was even more confused.

“Why make a mess if you don’t have to? Do you know how much of an inconvenience it is for the staff to clean what you left behind and recover the losses from those champagne glasses?”

“I paid for those and I apologized. I’m so sorry again.” He meant it.

“Your friend was a real jerk. Being so irresponsible. Not looking out for her.” I nodded towards Miri. If I could get that jerk alone, I’d give him a piece of my mind. Even if he didn’t speak a lick of English.

“Violet, calm down.” I dared to think Taeyong was nervous.

“I hate what alcohol does to people who don’t know how to control their intake.”

“Violet.”

“And your other friends? None of them seemed to care. Someone should’ve told her to slow down.”

“Violet, stop. I get it.”

“You guys should be more careful next time.”

“Violet,” he said, emphasizing every syllable, snapping me out of my reverie.

“What?”

“Calm down.”

“I’ll calm down when you wake up!” When those words left my mouth, I remembered something I wanted to shove back into the recesses of my mind.

“I’ll calm down when you wake up!”

“If I’m asleep, Violet, then I never want to wake up!”

I didn’t realize I gripped the steering wheel so hard then.

Miri whined. “Can you keep it down?”

I winced at my outburst and pulled over to breathe.

Taeyong gave me a few moments before he carefully whispered, “Violet?”

In. Out. Dr. Mendes told me to breathe.

“Violet, are you okay?” He asked.

In. Out. I felt the pressure on my chest leaving.

I rubbed my hand over my face. “Yeah. I...got carried away.”

Silence followed. “Someone to Spend Time With” by Los Retros was playing quietly on the stereo now.

Taeyong started, “You’re right, you know...About my friends and me.”

I laughed weakly. “That’s music to my ears.”

“I’m an ass.”

I played with my hands, avoiding his gaze. Embarrassed. Even if Taeyong was an ass, I didn’t think it was right of me to snap at him like that. “Go on.”

“I’m sorry.” His tone was somber. Repentant.

He sounded much closer than he did so I turned around. He leaned on the driver’s seat. My arm bumping into his hand, which he’d placed on the shoulder of my seat. Like he wanted to touch my shoulder but was smart enough not to.

Taeyong’s face was very close to mine. The frustration I felt quickly transformed into a different kind.

“Thank you,” I said, my cheeks aflame.

He smiled warmly. His sharp features softened to show a cuter and more innocent side of him. He didn’t feel the tension I felt, it seemed. And that disappointed me.

I didn’t know what was up with me. Maybe my hormones were just out of control. It was just a few days before my period. Maybe it was because I haven't been with anyone in five years.

I put the car in drive. We were back en route to Miri’s house.

“So...Do you still want to know my story?” I asked, aiming to lighten the mood.

“Absolutely,” his voice was dripping with honey.

“Okay. But in return, you have to tell me about yourself. And what happened with your pal. Baekhyun, was it?”

He went silent when I said “Baekhyun” but then he relented. “Fine.”

I began, “Well, I was born and raised in Sunset. I went away for college in Atlanta before deciding to move back.”

“Why did you come back?”

“I wanted to work on my filmmaking career and earn money on the side.”

“Filmmaking?”

I nodded. “I’ve been into filming and editing since I was thirteen. I put those dreams on the backburner when I went to college. It was my junior year when it hit me. I wanted to film. I wanted to make something I could be proud to call my own. To see my own movies on the silver screen? That’s my dream.”

“That’s great. What are your movies about?”

I answered quickly, “Love.” I was a little too eager on that delivery.

Taeyong hesitated. “Love?”

“As flawed as people are, they deserve love. And there’s just so many kinds of love. Between friends. Family. Lovers. I want to focus on the ups and downs of all kinds of relationships. I want my audience to connect with what I create. If a thirty five year old man wants a love story about him and his podiatrist, I would make it.”

“A foot doctor?” Taeyong laughed.

“Everyone has a story, Taeyong.”

He pondered. “You’re right.”

I realized that I really poured my heart out to him then and proceeded to turn bright red. “Sorry, that was a little much...”

“Nah, it wasn’t. You really lit up when you were talking just now. I like seeing you that way.”

I wanted to turn around and lock lips with him.

He continued, “I’m happy for you. It’s beautiful...Your dream. You know what you want.” He sounded almost melancholic. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say his case was different.

I coughed as Miri tossed and turned in her corner. “Thank you.”

He grinned at me through the rearview mirror. “Now you can ask me some personal questions.”

I laughed at that. “Oh, I will. So...Where did you study? And what’s your biggest dream? It’s only fair you answer these since I exposed myself to you.”

We were both stunned to silence when I realized my choice of words.

I added, “You know what I mean.” My blush was just going to be my best friend tonight. Might as well own it.

“I attended Seoul University, majoring in business administration and music composition.”

I remembered the article Hani showed me. It was no wonder he was studying both if he was going to inherit his father’s company. “That’s awesome. You’re versatile. There’s so much you can do with both majors.”

“Yeah...Honestly, I prefer music composition. My father required I major in Business Administration.”

“I see...So are you expected to take over your father’s business?”

He asked, “How did you know about my father’s business?”

I choked. “Well...Hani and I looked you up...On GoodSearch.”

“Oh?” Why did it sound like he was smiling?

“Hani thought you looked familiar so we looked you up. But don’t worry we didn’t go too deep into it. Who knows what we could uncover?”

“What are you implying?” He asked, suspicious.

“Oh, nothing at all,” I teased.

He laughed. His laugh was rich and warm. Not like the teasing laughter I’ve heard.

He continued, “But yeah, since my parents found out I was a boy in my mother’s womb, my fate was sealed.”

“That’s...intense.”

“You don’t know the half of it…”

And with that, there was another silence. What could I say to that? It wasn’t like I could relate. Plus, he didn’t seem like the type to enjoy pity.

I said, “Alright, next topic…What is your biggest dream?” I cringed. Maybe that question was too cheesy. But what other way was there to say it?

“I don’t have a damn clue.”

I gaped. “Nothing?”

“It feels like I’m on autopilot. Like I’m living by a schedule and I’m just expected to show up wherever the schedule tells me to.”

I hesitated but gave into what I really wanted to know. “You don’t want to inherit your dad’s company...do you?”

He thought about it for a moment. “I’m not sure, Violet.”

We pulled up to a high rise in North Bay Village and parked in the guest area.

Taeyong said, “Alright, Miri, you’re home! Wakey wakey.”

I tapped Miri on the shoulder and she groaned, “Five minutes, Baekhyun.”

Thanks Miri for reminding me of why exactly I couldn’t trust Taeyong in the first place.

Taeyong got out of the backseat and opened the passenger door.

I got out of the driver’s seat and stood beside Taeyong.

I asked. “How are we going to do this?”

Taeyong replied, “Let’s grab her arms and go from there.”

So we did. Miri laughed. “Guys! That tickles!” She finally stood up.

“Can you stand on your own?” I asked.

She attempted to walk and wobbled so Taeyong and I caught her before she face planted against the concrete. “If I lean on something, yeah…”

Taeyong and I gave each other a look.

“You take one side and I’ll take the other,” he said.

“Sounds good.”

We got Miri to put one arm over my shoulders and the other over Taeyong’s. “You guys are amazing. Thank you sooooo much for bringing me home. I promise to invite you guys over soon and make you some lasagna,” Miri said as she nuzzled Taeyong and then me.

I laughed and asked, “Where are we going?”

“Miri, what floor are you on?” Taeyong asked.

“Sixteenth!” She exclaimed.

“And...you have your keys, right?” Taeyong eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“Yeah, they’re in my purse. Can you check for me?” Miri asked me.

I checked her neon pink handbag. Thankfully, the keys were there. “Yup.”

Miri yelled, elated. “To the sixteenth floor, gentlemen!”

We stopped at Miri’s doorstep as she fumbled with her keys. She handed them to me. “Will you be a doll and open my door?”

I unlocked her door and we brought her in.

“Jesus Christ, Miri. I thought you weren’t going to be home for another two hours!” A female voice piped up from one of the rooms.

“Sorry to interrupt your ME time, Barbara! Your solo stage. Your me, myself, and I!” She erupted in laughter. “Do you want to meet my friends?!”

“Fuck, Miriam. You have people over?!” Barbara didn’t sound thrilled.

We helped Miri to her bedroom and she plopped onto her bed.

Miri said, “Thank you guys. I’m sorry for all of the trouble…”

Taeyong shook his head. “As long as you’re okay.”

“Do you need some water or anything?” I asked her.

“Nah, it’s fine. Babs will take care of me. She owes me.”

Taeyong and I walked out of the high rise. As we walked back over to my car, I remembered his interrogation wasn’t over.

“So what happened tonight? Broken glasses. Yelling. A fight that almost made me call the cops on your asses.”

Taeyong met my eyes for a moment before staring off in the distance again. “Baekhyun had too much to drink and lost control. We’re not the best of friends but we run in the same circles.”

“Is he Miri’s boyfriend?”

“I wouldn’t say that. They’re pretty casual. I got pissed because he wasn’t really looking out for her like he should’ve.”

“I see…Well, you did a good thing.” I felt like an ass for thinking he didn’t care about her. He wasn’t perfect but I shouldn’t have written him off the way I did.

He put his hands in his extravagant pockets. “Yeah?”

“You were quite the gentlemen,” I admitted.

He chuckled. “You went out of your way to help a stranger. It was very noble of you.”

“You think so?”

“Now don’t act modest, Violet. You know you did a good but stupid thing tonight.”

I was floored. He was right about that.

Up until this point, Taeyong didn’t show any signs of snapping my neck and leaving me for dead. But I wouldn’t confirm that until he got out of my car when we headed back.

Taeyong continued, “You let two complete strangers into your car. A personal place...” He moved himself closer to me. “And you don’t even know me.”

“That was stupid. But...you don’t seem that dangerous to me. Foolish? Yeah. But dangerous? I don’t think so.” Oh, if my parents could hear me at that moment.

We reached my car. He paused and got a good look at me. “It’s sweet of you to think that.”

Taeyong sat in the passenger seat this time. He gave me his phone. “Play anything you want. Do you like K-Pop?”

“Do I? Oh ho ho let’s see what you’ve got.”

I scrolled through his Berry Music streaming app and was shocked to find SHINee’s upcoming album.

“No fucking way. You have access to SHINee’s new album? It doesn’t come out for another two weeks!”

Taeyong beamed. “Being my father’s son has its perks.”

“God, would it be okay if we listened to it?”

“My library is yours, Violet.”

We drove, heads bobbing to another SHINee triumph. We talked about what SHINee songs were our favorites and talked more about music. We liked a lot of the same artists. And somehow ice cream came up in the conversation and he admitted he had the biggest sweet tooth. It was so contradictory to his persona but I liked it. The ride back was faster, I was disappointed to realize. The traffic, unfortunately, died down real quick.

But when the last song played, the atmosphere shifted. It was a sensual song. I didn’t need to know Korean to know that. It was in Taemin’s voice. And the infamous bedspring sound effects SM was known for. And the English phrase: stay with me tonight.

The head bobbing stopped and I felt like the oxygen was quickly escaping from my car.

We reached a stop light that I knew ran pretty long so I took the chance to look at Taeyong.

I regretted it.

Because he was staring. Hard. His eyes were lustful and he gave me a half smile. He bit his lip and I wondered if we could pull over into the Target parking lot and just be wild animals.

A car beeped me out of the temptation. The stop light was green now. Eyes back on the road.

We arrived back at the parking garage. It was almost empty. BOSS was closed and everyone had gone home. I parked beside Taeyong’s Maserati and shut the engine off.

“So…” I began.

“So…” He mirrored.

“I guess this is...goodbye.”

“Yeah.” He looked sad, defeated even.

I forced a smile because even I was supremely bummed at not seeing this gorgeous specimen again. I felt like tonight was the beginning of something. What that was...I didn’t know. But I wanted to.

“Thanks for the ride back, Violet.” And he just stared at me. Kind of expectantly.

I avoided his stare. “Good night.”

“Good night, Violet.” He opened the passenger door gently. Was I crazy or was he slowly getting out of the car?

He got out of the car and shut the door.

Oh, fuck it.

I pulled my keys out of the ignition, shoved them and my phone in my front jeans pockets, and got out of my car.

“Taeyong!” I yelled. My voice echoed in the garage but I didn’t care. He was about to open his car door but I ran up to him before he could.

“What’s up?” He asked.

I got up on my tiptoes, pulled his face closer, and kissed him.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I just had to know what his lips would feel like. If there was a connection there.

Instantly, he took my face into his hands and deepened the kiss. I allowed his tongue into my mouth and our tongues were fighting it out over who could die from arousal. I ran my hands through his hair and he was caressing my upper body. He cupped my ass and picked me up off the ground. He moaned and so help me, it was the hottest thing I’d ever heard. I could feel his member rising against my pelvis. And I knew he could feel how soaked I was.

I needed air so I relinquished myself and Taeyong groaned.

Traces of my lipstick were on his lips. I giggled as I wiped them off.

Taeyong looked impatient. “Can we-“

My phone vibrated in my pocket. Taeyong, his hands very fond of my ass, glared at my phone as I grabbed it from my pocket.

It was Hani. Crap, I never texted her.

I answered, “Hey.”

Hani almost destroyed my right ear drum. “Hey? HEY?! Are you fucking kidding me? I’ve been worried! Are you okay? Where are you?”

Taeyong watched me, the lust very palpable. Radiating off of his luminous skin. The typically unflattering parking garage lights couldn’t do anything to this man.

I gulped. “Hani, I’m so sorry! I’m okay. I was dropping Taeyong off at his car. We’re in the garage.”

Hani let out a sigh of relief. “Thank God! I could kill you!”

Taeyong adjusted himself and he was getting very needy. Everything about him was.

“I’m going home now, don’t worry.” I said, lying. Half feeling bad and half wanting to hang up.

“Is he still with you?” Hani asked, not hiding her disgust and annoyance.

I froze before I let out, “Y-yes.”

“I’m just gonna take a wild guess. You’re gonna hook up with him. If not, you’re in the process...And I’m interrupting.”

I hesitated.

“So which one is it?”

“It’s the second,” I admitted.

“Oh...Oh!!!!!” Hani laughed. “So...I’m guessing he checks out then?”

I blushed. “Yeah.”

Taeyong gave me a playful annoyed look. He could hear everything Hani was saying.

Hani sighed. “Text me when you get home. Don’t stay out too late.”

“All right. Good night, Hani. And I’m sorry again.”

Hani tsked. “Just don’t leave me hanging. As long as you’re okay, I’m happy.”

“Thanks Hani.”

“Good night, purple moon.” She said suggestively, using one of my nicknames. She hung up.

Taeyong grabbed my phone out of my hands. He stuffed it in my pocket. He pulled me closer and initiated a kiss.

He was so strong and commanding with every movement. He held me tightly and securely. I knew he wouldn’t let me fall. It was like I didn’t weigh much to him. He was stronger than I imagined.

He moved his lips down to my neck, peppering it with kisses and looking up into my eyes with so much affection. And then he sucked at my neck. I moaned so loudly that I could hear the echoes. I took off his jacket and he chucked it back to the hood of his car. I ran my hands all over his abdomen. Rock solid to no one’s shock. I began unbuttoning his dress shirt and could see tufts of his chest hair peek out. I wished my hands could work faster.

And then, once again, we were interrupted. Taeyong’s phone rang. He grabbed it out his pocket while handling me with one hand.

Taeyong spat out something in Korean before he answered.

Answering, he bit out, “What?”

Whatever the other person said on the other line, it annoyed Taeyong.

He responded in Korean, leaving me confused and impatient. Now I knew how he felt when Hani called. Only I felt worse because I didn’t know what he was saying and I didn’t know what was going on.

Taeyong ended the call and he looked bothered.

“You okay?” I asked him.

His features relaxed when he looked at me. “I could kill Shownu.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I have to go,” he said. “Baekhyun’s being a lousy drunk.”

“Oh.” I looked down, not wanting him to see my disappointment.

He tenderly took my chin and lifted my face up to look at him. He kissed my nose. “I’m sorry.”

I sighed. “Me, too.”

He put me down and he walked me back to the driver’s seat of my car. I got in, fastened my seat belt, and turned on the engine. Taeyong hung out right outside the door, lingering.

“I guess it wasn’t meant to be,” I said, “But...it was nice while it lasted.”

“I don’t think nice is the right word,” he said as he gave you the same look he did during that SHINee song.

My throat dried up. “You should go.”

“Not until you give me your number,” he said.

I did a double take. “Really?”

“Yeah.” His sexy smile graced his well-sculpted face.

“O-okay.”

We exchanged numbers. I gave him my phone so he could add my number. He even took a picture of himself for his contact photo, making a goofy face.

I laughed and did the same when he gave me his phone. I looked at my selfie. I cringed. I should’ve just tried doing a cute pose.

Taeyong was very close to me as I carefully analyzed my photo. “Cute.”

I yelped and he laughed.

“Relax. I don’t bite...Unless you want me to,” he said.

“Ooookay! Well, here’s your phone back!” I avoided his glance. “I gotta get going.”

“Okay.” His smile softened. He gently took my hand and kissed it.

“Sweet dreams, Violet.”

;;

Intro: Epilogue

(A/N: the following conversation is in Korean so think of this as a translation)

Taeyong was cursing himself for leaving Violet to go tend to his idiot friends. And Baekhyun wasn’t even a friend and acquaintance was too nice of a title to bestow on such an unworthy person. He parked in the driveway of his beach house in Sunset Shores and entered. He went up the stairs to Baekhyun’s room.

Taeyong knocked. Shownu answered, noticing how Taeyong’s hair looked disheveled and how flushed he looked. He didn’t want to pry. He motioned for Taeyong to come in.

Baekhyun was inside, his arms handcuffed to the headboard of the bed. The handcuffs were made to keep people like Baekhyun from moving too much. “Taeyong, you little shit. Get me out of these.”

Taeyong sneered. “After what you did tonight? Nearly blowing our cover? What were you thinking?”

Baekhyun stammered. “Miri said I could so I went for it! There’s no issue.”

“I had to have someone break into the surveillance room and manipulate the footage, you moron.”

“Taeyong-“ Baekhyun started.

“You need to get it through your thick skull that we can’t afford to let anyone know the truth about us. Not if we hope to claim what we want.”

Baekhyun laughed. “What we want? This isn’t about any of us. This is about your vendetta against your ex.”

Taeyong moved closer to Baekhyun and pressed the cuffs harder against Baekhyun’s skin, causing him to cry out in pain.

“You want my protection? A piece of my wealth? Then do as I say, Hyung.” He spat the last word, knowing it humiliated Baekhyun to be subject to his junior.

Taeyong turned to Shownu, who waited for his instruction.

“Shownu, he’ll be fasting for the next week,” Taeyong said.

Shownu, not really one to display intense emotion, blinked in surprise. Baekhyun yelled, “Do you want to die, Taeyong?”

Taeyong smiled. “You should be asking yourself that.”

Track 1 (Coming Soon)

180 notes · View notes

keepingupwithlinmanuel · 5 years

Text

Lin-Manuel Miranda interview: from Hamilton to His Dark Materials

I know Hamilton remains wildly popular more than four years after it premiered on Broadway because of the intense response to my Instagram post boasting I have tickets to watch it the evening before meeting its creator, Lin-Manuel Miranda. "It's one of my absolute favourite things in the world ever!" raves one correspondent. "It's WONDERFUL and I defy you not to download the soundtrack afterwards," adds another. "I went last night! Second time. You're gonna love it."

The problem, however, is that I'm not sure I will love it. When theatre is great, it's the best thing on the planet, but when it is bad, as I have learnt from the bitter experience of watching three-hour open-air adaptations of Dickens' novels, it is the worst. Musicals are especially challenging: in my experience, you either like them or you don't, and given one of the few I have enjoyed was Avenue Q, which subverted the form, I'm in the latter camp.

Then, on top of this, there is the pressure of hype (and Hamilton has been more hyped than anything this side of the moon landings), and the challenge of taking hip-hop, which I love, out of an urban setting. It can easily go a bit Wham Rap!, or even worse, if you've seen the video, Michael Gove performing Wham Rap!.

It is, however, pretty good. The last thing the world needs is another long review of Hamilton, and I can't say I downloaded the soundtrack afterwards or that I didn't look at my watch occasionally, but using rap to retell the dry story of the founding fathers is inspired, and I'm so relieved that I blurt out my review to the 39-year-old writer and performer when I meet him in a restaurant in Fitzrovia. "I do find that with both Hamilton and In the Heights, my first show," responds the award-winning composer, lyricist and actor, "I get a lot of people who say to me, 'I don't really like musicals, but I loved this.' I attribute that to a very simple thing: my wife, who doesn't really like musicals. She didn't grow up going to see them, or doing theatre. She's a lawyer; when we met, she was a scientist. I have a higher bar to clear than most composers, because my first audience is my wife, and it can't just be a pretty tune."

You might recognise his wife, Vanessa Nadal, whom he met at high school, from the video of the couple's wedding reception in 2010, which like everything Miranda touches, went viral, and shows him performing the Fiddler on the Roof song To Life to his beloved.

Even my withered heart may have been momentarily lifted by it. She has accompanied her husband with their two young sons, aged one and four, to Britain, where he is filming a part in the BBC's slick new adaptation of Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials, though the reason he is in London today is that he has just been the subject of an episode of Desert Island Discs. The New Yorker takes a takes a swig of his coffee, which he tells me he chose as his luxury on his island ("I'm so basic"), adjusts his yellow baseball cap and asks me a question about the unsolicited review: "Why did you feel the need to say it?" There follows the most painful recording I've ever had to listen back to, as I make a bunch of ludicrous generalisations about musicals, speculating that perhaps they divide men from women, or the working classes from the middle classes, or straight people from gay people, or white people from brown people. It only strikes me a few minutes in that not only is Miranda living proof that the generalisations are nonsense, but I am essentially explaining musicals to a world expert in the form - a man who, before the age of 40, has a Pulitzer prize, three Tony awards, three Grammys, an Emmy, a MacArthur Fellowship, a Kennedy Center Honor, two Olivier awards, one Academy award nomination and two Golden Globe nominations to his name.

"Where do you want to start?" he responds with what is, in retrospect, startling patience. "You brought in all this cultural baggage and you're laying it at my feet and I don't know which bag to open." Another swig of coffee. "I think with musicals, it has to do with the way in which you interact with music in your own life. I grew up in a culture where dancing and singing at weddings was supercommon. So, if that's corny to you growing up, or you're taught to believe that's corny or unbelievable, then of course you're not going to like musicals."

...

He spent much of those years doing a bunch of badly paid, disparate jobs, which, given his nature, he nevertheless enjoyed. They included working as an English teacher at his former high school. ("I loved my curriculum. The class was exhilarating once I realised the less I talked, the more they learnt. I saw a future in which I taught at my old high school for 30 years and was very happy.") He wrote for a local paper as a columnist and restaurant reviewer. ("What kind of restaurant reviewer was I? Not very discriminating. If a new restaurant opened, I would go and eat some stuff and say, 'Hey, we have a Thai restaurant. I get to eat first at it. This is great!' ") And he made guest appearances on a number of TV shows including The Sopranos and House. What kind of roles was he being offered at the time? "I wasn't getting any roles! I was always the Latino friend of the white guy in the lead. And so centring ourselves in the drama, telling our own stories, is a big part of In the Heights, my first musical."

An unexpected thing about meeting Miranda is how instinctively he turns to the topic of his first musical, In the Heights, rather than Hamilton - not least when he talks about how he spent one month each year as a child with his grandparents in Vega Alta, Puerto Rico, and was inspired by the gap between his worlds. "In Puerto Rico we were doctors and lawyers. And we're cabbies in New York; we're for the most part the poorer segment of society, and on TV we were always thieves and we were always the Sharks. In the Heights was a response to that. It was, 'Are we allowed to be on stage without having a knife in our hands?' " But then he has spent part of the summer filming a movie version of that musical, which is set over the course of three days, involving characters in the largely Hispanic-American neighbourhood. It is also the project that changed his life most dramatically. The more recent success of Hamilton rather eclipses the fact that his first show, which he began writing in the late Nineties when he was still a student at Wesleyan University, Connecticut, was also wildly successful. After success off-Broadway, the musical went to Broadway, opening in March 2008 and ending up being nominated for 13 Tony awards, winning four, including best musical and best original score.

...

Miranda, described as "a fantasy of the Obama era", has since been active in politics, lobbying and fundraising for Puerto Rico and performing with Ben Platt at the March for Our Lives anti-gun-violence rally in Washington DC on March 24, 2018. Does he feel demoralised by the drift of politics to the far right? "The thing about us all being connected online is that you can read all of the worst news from all over the world and be overwhelmed. You can't let it all in; just act on what you can act on." Should Trump be ignored or fought every step of the way? "It's hard to even discuss it, right, because Trump will have outraged us on two new things in the next [few hours], as soon as he wakes up, and it won't be relevant by the time we're having this conversation. And the same with Brexit, which is just as uncertain."

What did he make of Trump's revival of the phrase "Get back to where you came from" in relation to Democrat politicians? "It's unacceptable. Just because he said it doesn't mean it's acceptable." He leans back in his seat. "Here's my fear of getting into this with you: every time I've done a UK interview, I've said incredible shit and Trump's always the headline, even if I've only said two lines about it. So I'm happy to talk about it, but I'm really scared it's going to be the headline."

I risk another question. Would Miranda ever run for office? "It's funny - I remember when I was a teenager, my dad got approached by pretty serious people about running for a state Senate seat, and he said no. I asked, 'Why?' He said, 'I don't want to have to watch my mouth.' And for me, it's similar. I also have seen in my life, first-hand, the people who get addicted to running, and it's like their moment passed, but they're still running for something, because they're chasing that thrill of winning, and it's about much more than representing the constituents. I would never want to get stuck in that cycle or that pattern. It's more fun writing songs than doing any of that."

Read the rest here behind the Times paywall.

#lin manuel miranda #times uk #hamilton #politics and advocacy #in the heights #Interviews

26 notes · View notes

gamerwoo · 5 years

Text

Zuho: Youngblood

Characters: Zuho x female reader (featuring sf9)

Genre/warnings: ghoul au, host club au, angst, a little bit of fluff at the beginning, mentions of violence and cannibalism, blood

Word count: 3,566

Summary: After finding himself in a life threatening situation, normal human Baek Juho wakes up to find himself craving the taste of human flesh and suddenly being ‘adopted’ by a group of ghouls – and a strange human. But he quickly learns that’s the least of his problems when you walk into his life.

a/n: I know this part doesn’t include reader a whole bunch but just bear with me ok

Part Two | Part Three | Welcome to the Host Club Masterlist

“Alright, I should go get ready for the club tonight,” Taeyang sighed as he stood up from his chair at the table in the library.

Juho looked up at him with a frown, “Already? Do you really have to go? It’s just a weird host club.”

Taeyang smiled with a shrug. Juho was at least half right. There was more to the club that made Taeyang stick with it, though. He had a promise he was going to keep, and staying in the host club was what helped him do so.

He slung his backpack on his shoulders, gripping the straps as he looked down at his friend, “I know you think it’s silly, but--”

“I’m not like, making fun of you for it or anything,” Juho quickly clarified. “I just wouldn’t personally ever join a host club. I can’t really picture you in one, either. Isn’t that all kinda fake? You’re too soft to be fake about it.”

“It’s not fake,” Taeyang chuckled. “I genuinely like everybody who comes to see me. Our job is to be nice to them, and I’m genuine about that.”

“And to flirt,” Juho quickly added.

The younger boy just shrugged, “A host is supposed to make all of their clients feel special, okay? They all know this. Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow -- I don’t wanna be late.”

“See ya,” Juho nodded to Taeyang’s retreating back before he stood and decided to call it quits on studying.

Juho stood up and packed his things into his backpack before heading out of the library and starting his walk home. He gripped his bag in one hand and had his phone in the other, looking at his texts as he walked. That was why he didn’t see the person he was walking right into.

You were distracted by your book, needing to catch up on your homework. So when you bumped into something and stumbled backwards, tripping over your own feet, you let out a gasp. But before you could actually fall back, you felt a hand wrap around your wrist and lightly tug you forward to help you regain your balance. Your eyes glanced up from your book to see a pair of brown eyes looking back at you. You didn’t recognize the boy who had helped you, but he was definitely handsome.

Juho was stunned seeing that it was you he’d run into. As soon as he realized he’d bumped into somebody, he’d let go of his backpack to make sure the person didn’t fall, but when he realized it was your wrist he had his fingers wrapped around, he was frozen in place. He just hoped you didn’t see the shock on his face or hear his heart pounding in his chest. He’d always had the biggest crush on you ever since he first laid eyes on you, and this was the closest he’d ever gotten to you.

“I’m sorry,” you smiled apologetically, assuming you were the one to bump into him. “I should’ve been watching where I was going.”

Your voice snapped him out of his love-struck trance he was in, quickly shaking his head, “No it was my fault. I was on my phone.”

“Then I guess we can both take the blame and call it even,” you laughed softly.

Juho smiled hearing your laugh. How could somebody be so beautiful and also have a laugh that made him feel happy?

Wow, he really had it bad for you.

“I’m _____, by the way,” you told him as he finally released your wrist after realizing he was still holding it -- you didn’t mind it, though. “I haven’t seen you around before.”

Juho shrugged, completely forgetting that he was supposed to introduce himself too, “The campus is pretty big. But I shouldn’t keep you from wherever you were going.”

“Don’t worry,” you waved the concern away, “I was just going to meet my friends. They wanted to visit the host club tonight, and I tag along every once in a while.”

You went to the host club? Huh, maybe he should consider joining then. Taeyang apparently has the right idea.

“One of my friends is in that club,” he chuckled. “Do you know Yoo Taeyang?”

“Of course I do!” you chirped, a grin spreading across your face. “He’s always so nice to everybody -- I mean, they all are, but Taeyang’s… Well, you know how he is, you’re friends with him.”

You let out an awkward, nervous laugh as you looked down at the sidewalk. Why was it so hard to talk normally to him? Sure, he was handsome, but you didn’t even know him.

“Tell him I said hi for me, okay?” Juho smiled before he started to walk passed you. “I’ll see you around maybe?”

You nodded as you turned to wave to him, “Yeah, definitely!”

As the two of you parted ways, Youngbin tapped Taeyang on the shoulder from where he was watching the interaction from the window of the club room.

“What’re you looking at?” Youngbin wondered. “You have to go get ready.”

Taeyang was smiling seeing the two of you talk to each other. He’d known Juho had his giant crush on you, but he knew that you were usually too busy with studying and homework to really notice most people on campus. He’d been trying to figure out a way to get the two of you together for almost a year now, but it seemed like fate had brought the two of you together today of all days.

“Yeah, I’m on it,” Taeyang assured him, letting his eyes linger a little longer before he stepped away from the window.

But fate also had other plans for Juho today.

Everything hurt. Juho felt like his body was in a block of ice -- freezing but burning at the same time. At first, it was just parts his body that hurt, but the white hot pain he was feeling started spreading throughout his body.

“Don’t let him close his eyes,” he heard a male voice warn. “He won’t wake up if he does.”

“Got it,” another voice -- this one closer -- replied.

Juho was vaguely aware of the fact that there were people with him, but he wasn’t sure who they were. There were three of them: a tall one with dark hair and tanned skin that knelt down beside him, one with a slender face that looked over him with piercing, analyzing eyes, and one that stood above both of them with blue-ish black hair with his arms folded over his chest. He wasn’t sure who any of them were, but he knew they weren’t the ones who caused this. In fact, they saved him.

Not wanting to be late getting home after he decided to stop by the bookstore and then grab some food with friends, Juho cut through a part of the city that he shouldn’t have this late at night. He was suddenly yanked down a dark alleyway before a ghoul just started feeding on him, causing the poor boy to cry out and alert the attention of the three that were looking down at him.

But considering how much blood he’d lost and how much pain he was in, Juho was barely even conscious now. He could hardly pay attention to the three boys, but he did his best to concentrate so he could stay awake. Even he knew what would happen if he let himself close his eyes.

“Inseong,” the one standing over the other two spoke up again, “how’s it looking?”

“If the paramedics get here in time, he might have a chance,” the one with the analyzing gaze spoke up, his eyes never leaving Juho. “They’ll have to do some pretty intense surgery to save him, though.”

“It’s creepy that you know that,” the tan one said, giving Inseong a wary look.

Inseong only shrugged.

“I think they’ll be here soon,” the one standing said as he looked up the alley to the street. “We should move him so they can find him better. Then we need to get out of here.”

One of them had made an ‘anonymous’ call so Juho wouldn’t end up dying alone in the alley. They hoped paramedics could save his life -- according to Inseong, they could -- but they knew it would definitely be a slim chance. But Inseong did know one way they could save him, and he knew that was probably how they would save him. But he also knew the consequences of that, and he had already warned his leader when they found him.

“I know,” Youngbin had sighed as Juho lay groaning on the ground, “but he’s Taeyang’s friend. We have to.”

So Rowoon made the call before hanging up the phone.

“Alright, then we should move that body too,” Inseong stated, pointing over to the ghoul that the three of them had ganged up on to save Juho. “He’s barely alive now, so he won’t hurt anybody.”

“Rowoon, pick him up,” the shortest one said before he nodded his head toward the body of the ghoul.

Inseong stood and walked over to help.

As Rowoon carried Juho to the entrance to the alley, Youngbin and Inseong dragged the ghoul’s limp body behind him. Rowoon placed Juho carefully on the ground while Youngbin carelessly dropped the body down a few feet away by a dumpster.

The sirens were getting louder.

“Youngbin, we should stay nearby,” Inseong said. “We need to make sure that--”

“I know, I know,” Youngbin sighed as he nodded to the nearest fire escape. “Get to the roof and we can watch from up there.”

So the three ghouls climbed the fire escape to watch over Juho. They certainly didn’t have to since none of them knew Juho, but they knew he was friends with Taeyang, and Youngbin owed it to the younger boy. So he would watch over Juho the whole time -- even after he had turned into the same monster he was.

When Juho had woken up, he was still sore but not nearly as sore as he should’ve been. When he realized he was in the hospital, he assumed it was probably some sort of drugs they’d given him to ease the pain. However, that wasn’t the only thing he’d realized.

“God, you’re awake!” Taeyang sighed in relief, sitting beside Juho’s bed.

In the room were seven other boys that Juho didn’t recognize -- save for three that he recognized vaguely, as if seeing them in a dream. His mind wandered back to that dream, only to conclude that it was reality. Those were the three who saved him.

“What happened?” he groaned, only remembering little bits and pieces.

“You almost died,” the one he vaguely recalled was named Inseong stated with a smile that would’ve seemed calming had he not smiled after telling him that he almost lost his life.

“You were attacked by a ghoul,” the one who seemed like the leader explained -- he couldn’t remember his name, but he remembered his face and the aura he gave off. “You were lucky I happened to be nearby with Inseong and Rowoon.”

“The doctors were able to save your life!” Taeyang grinned.

But Juho’s eyes were scanning the room of unfamiliar faces. Most of them seemed bored and uninterested, while others were looking at him curiously like they were waiting for something to happen.

“There is just one slight difference…” Inseong trailed off, scrunching up his face.

Juho’s eyes flashed to Inseong, “What is it?”

“No, no,” Taeyang turned to look at the older boy and shook his head, “I should tell him. It’ll probably be a little easier.”

“Tell me what?” Juho asked, his heart racing. He wasn’t sure what they weren’t telling him, and he didn’t like it. It was scaring him.

Taeyang turned back to Juho, taking a deep breath and letting it out, “The doctors had to perform a heart transplant to save your life. But since they needed a heart quickly, they had to use… Inseong, what did you say it was?”

Juho only caught half of what Inseong said, as he was saying a lot of words and sentences that didn’t seem to make any sense to him. But what he caught onto was that the doctors had to use a lot of components from the ghoul that had attacked him to keep him alive -- such as blood, and a few of the ghoul’s organs. The doctors were just unaware to the fact that the ghoul was a ghoul.

“B-but,” Juho began after one of the other boys told Inseong that Juho clearly had no idea what all this medical speak was, “that won’t affect me, right? Like...I’m still...human...right…?”

Taeyang made a face that was somewhere between worried and apologetic, “Well...that’s where it gets complicated…”

Juho’s heart sunk.

“Listen,” the leader spoke up before Juho could start panicking -- at least out loud, “we’re here to help you. Every single one of us except Taeyang are--”

“You’re all a--”

Taeyang slapped a hand over Juho’s mouth, not wanting the last word to slip out so loudly, “We’re still in a hospital, and they still have a cover to not blow.”

“And now you do too,” the boy who looked similar to their leader said, an annoyed expression on his face. “So maybe don’t go screaming the ‘g’ word.”

“The point is, Youngbin and us are going to help you,” Taeyang grinned reassuringly as he slowly moved his hand away from Juho’s mouth. “They can help you learn how to live like this.”

“I don’t want to live like this!” Juho shouted, tears forming in his eyes as the reality of the situation sunk in. “I’d rather be dead!”

“He’s yelling,” one of the boys stated quietly, his eyes glancing from Juho who was now having a meltdown in his hospital bed over to Inseong who was striding over to the cabinets.

“Taeyang, could you try to calm him down for a minute?” Inseong requested.

But instead of doing that, one of them panicked and just forcibly covered Juho’s mouth with his hand. When Juho started thrashing around to yell for help, two more of them held down his wrists and feet.

“Here it is!” Inseong smiled to himself as he walked over to Juho like nothing was wrong. He had a little vile of liquid in one hand, and a syringe with a needle on the end in the other. “This should help.”

Juho’s eyes widened as he watched Inseong suck medicine into the syringe. Then Inseong was injecting the liquid into the IV as if he were a doctor.

“I really think you know too much sometimes,” one of the boys commented as Juho’s eyelids started to get heavier and his body started going limp.

“It’s fine,” Youngbin sighed as Juho passed out from whatever it was Inseong gave him -- but he trusted Inseong enough to know he wouldn’t kill him or something, “we’ll just deal with it later. Taeyang--”

“I’ll convince him,” Taeyang nodded, already knowing what Youngbin was going to say.

Youngbin nodded, patting the younger boy’s shoulder, “I’m glad he’s okay.”

“Thanks for saving him,” Taeyang offered a sincere smile. “I know you didn’t have to, but--”

“I did have to,” he insisted.

Juho was Taeyang’s friend, after all. And after everything Youngbin had put the poor kid through, it was the least he could do to repay him.

After Juho was released from the hospital, Taeyang wouldn’t stop visiting him and trying to convince him that being a ghoul was okay. But the longer Juho put off getting help, the more dangerous it was for the human boy to go visit his friend. He desperately needed to eat, but human food just made him throw up. He could drink water, and coffee seemed to make him feel a little better, but that was it. He needed to eat but he refused to eat the thing he knew would satisfy him. He didn’t want to do that. He wanted to believe he was still a human.

So they decided to send Rowoon and Chani.

“What do you want?” Juho grumbled when he answered the door -- though he was a little relieved to see it wasn’t Taeyang because being around him was getting too hard.

“To talk,” Rowoon offered with a soft smile, holding out a togo cup full of coffee.

Juho reluctantly let him in after taking the coffee, gesturing for the two to go to the living room. The two sat down on the couch together with Juho sipping the coffee, and Rowoon and Chani trying to gather their thoughts. They knew why they were the ones sent to talk to Juho, but they also knew their situations were vastly different from his. They’d both been ghouls their whole lives. Plus, Juho was just half-ghoul.

But at least one of them could relate to that.

“So what do you want to talk about?” Juho asked after he’d set his coffee down on the coffee table. “I still don’t want any part of that weird gang of yours. I’m not--”

“We know,” Chani sighed, rolling his eyes, “but you’re gonna die without us, and your situation isn’t even that special.”

Juho was surprised to hear that, “I-it’s not…?”

“You’re afraid to eat people, right?” Rowoon asked with a smile that comforted Juho. “You’re afraid of hurting the ones you care about, like Taeyang. You think everything will be different now. I know eating people is something that’s hard to get over, but with our help, we can teach you how to still be what you consider normal. I’ve been in a relationship for a year with a human girl, and she knows what I am. But we make it work because I know how to survive but still be normal. It’s just a different form of normal.”

Juho was surprised to hear that a ghoul was able to date a human without trying to eat them. Was it really possible to be able to be around humans without wanting to consume all of them? Was it possible to even pretend to be normal?

He just looked at Chani who wasn’t looking at anybody and was staying silent, “So then why are you here?”

The younger boy sighed deeply before glancing over at Juho. He hated admitting this because he still sometimes felt how Juho felt now: like he didn’t belong. Taeyang told him how Juho felt like he wasn’t a human or a ghoul, and it was scary. He didn’t think anybody could relate to that, but they knew Chani could. Just in a different way.

“My mom’s a ghoul, and my dad’s a human,” Chani explained. “I’m half-ghoul, too.”

It seemed like everyday, Juho was learning knew things that seemed to confuse him more and more.

“What?” he asked quietly. “There’s… There are other half-ghouls?”

Chani nodded, “I learned they’re rare, but they exist. Not a lot of humans will even go near ghouls, much less marry them and have kids.”

“Our point is that you’re not alone, and we don’t want you to be alone,” Rowoon continued, the look he gave Juho being warm and inviting. “We want to help you, Juho.”

Juho looked between the two of them, thinking over everything before he let out a sigh.

Youngbin turned when he heard the door to the club room open. Chani was leading the way with his hands stuffed in his pockets as Rowoon was gently pushing Juho inside while the half-ghoul just looked around like he couldn’t believe where he was.

The host club was made up of ghouls?

Youngbin let out an amused laugh, “Surprised?”

“Do you eat the girls?!” Juho asked, his eyes going straight to the leader.

“No,” he scoffed. “That would be dumb of us. Nobody would suspect some nice boys in a host club to be ghouls, though, so…”

He just shrugged, letting his sentence trail off.

When Juho continued to just stand there with a blank expression, blinking as he tried to process everything, Youngbin continued.

“I’m Youngbin. I kinda formed this group to help other ghouls,” he explained. Then he turned and began pointing out the others. “That’s Inseong, Dawon, Hwiyoung, and Jaeyoon. You already know Taeyang, our resident human, and you’ve gotten acquainted with Rowoon and Chani.”

Juho couldn’t believe that the host club Taeyang had been in was all completely made up of ghouls this whole time. And he never even said anything! And the club was popular with girls coming here all the time!

You came here!

“I’m assuming because you let Rowoon and Chani bring you here, that means you’ve decided to join?” Jaeyoon guessed with a dimpled smile.

Juho just silently nodded his head.

“Some of us come up with aliases -- makes us feel safer,” Dawon shrugged. “My real name isn’t even Dawon. But hey, if I ever get into trouble, everybody will be asking for Dawon instead of Sanghyuk!”

“What do you want us to call you?” Youngbin asked.

Juho stared back at Youngbin for a moment. He wasn’t sure the expression he wore, but it almost seemed a little...happy?

“Zuho,” Juho decided.

Youngbin nodded before holding his hand out for Zuho to shake, “Welcome to the host club, Zuho.”

57 notes · View notes