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talewrites · 2 months

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It’s the Little Things

Hope you enjoy my gushy short little fic :]

(I posted this once before but I was too embarrassed so I took it down. Putting it back now 😂)

Generation: Bayverse TMNT

TMNT Raphael x Reader Fanfic

Pronouns: Gender Neutral

Warnings: RIDICULOUSLY mushy, self-serving fluff, kissed while asleep

The rain quietly pattered against the dark window panes as the light from the TV flashed in the glass’s reflection. It was the end of a very long patrol, and Raph had made it back to your apartment quite late. As usual.

But as usual, you were up waiting for him with a hot dinner lovingly prepared.

Your daily lives were vastly different from each other. You ran a quiet bookstore in a reclusive area downtown, while Raph was one of the city’s fierce vigilante heroes alongside his brothers. You were definitely an odd couple. But you had your moments.

Moments like these- Raph thought gratefully as he swallowed another bite of your steaming homemade stew, piled onto a thick slice of buttered sourdough bread. He closed his eyes as he savored the rich flavor, saturated in red wine and melty slow-cooked beef, and had to stifle himself from moaning around the food in his mouth. Somehow you always managed to make the most delicious food, the kind that could warm and comfort tired and aching bones after a long day.

Speaking of you.

:readmore:

Raphael glanced across the small wooden dinner table in their comfy little apartment, and found you sitting with your chin propped up on your crossed hands, with a glowing joyful expression on your face as you happily watched him enjoying the meal you’d made.

- and Raph immediately turned his head away, already beginning to feel his cheeks burning under his mask.

“…..It’s good.” He said gruffly, not daring to chance another glance across the table as he practically felt your joy intensify from his praise.

“ I’m glad~” It was a humble, yet cheerful response. Yet, somehow it left something fluttering in the large turtle’s chest. His face scrunched up tensely as he tried to will away the building heat in his cheeks, and resorted to hiding his face in the bowl of the heavenly stew.

…..Raphael was quite certain you would someday be the death of him.

Later that night, after you two had had your fill of dinner and the pot and bowls were soaking in the sink, you curled up together on your old couch in front of the TV. Raph was watching the evening news, followed by a mobster period drama he found he secretly enjoyed. While you had made home with a blanket and a book curled up in the grumpy turtle’s lap.

Raphael was lazily watching the TV and gratefully melting into the couch, letting his head tip back and stretch out the sore muscles in his neck. He barely noticed the pressure of you snuggled up warmly on his lap, already so accustomed to the feeling that at this point it would be more strange without it. When suddenly, he heard a clatter and flop from what sounded like your book sliding to the floor. He looked back up, expecting you to clamor up to retrieve it, but found you made no movement.

“……..?...” Raph looked down to check on you, and was met with the adorable sight of your peaceful sleeping face. Your head resting comfortably against his chest as you breathed slowly and deeply. A hand curled up under your chin while he other was pressed flat against his chest.

Raphael immediately felt his whole face heat up deeply at the sight, having to turn his head away and place a hand over his mouth for a moment to insure he wouldn’t explode from the sudden swell of feelings building up in his chest. He tried taking a deep breath to calm himself down. ‘What am I, a teenage girl….?’ He chastised himself as he calmed down enough to look back to you.

‘……Are they really asleep?’ He wondered. Raph studied your face, checking for signs of movement behind your eyes, but became caught up admiring the long strokes of your eyelashes against your cheek. It was just a small detail, but somehow, it sparked a warm feeling in him.

Raph found himself staring quietly at you as you dozed, and he became captured by your features as he gazed at you so closely. Your little nose, your soft complexion, playfully messy licks of your hair, the soft line of your jaw…. The corners of Raph’s mouth began to pull up in a kind smile as he gazed at you. Quietly, he drew up his hand to comb some stray hairs into place, and trailed down to gently stroke across your cheek, until the pad of his thumb came to brush softly across your lips.

Raphael was completely enthralled, and lost himself in his delicate ministrations. Before he even realized it, he found himself leaning in closely, until his lips connected lightly with yours. It was a delicate, revering, chaste kiss, one he would never have the courage to initiate around your waking self. But right now, not even the adoring (and embarrassing) gaze of his lover was present to shy him away from his enamor.

You stirred at the ticklish sensation, brows drawing together and making a soft cute sound as you sighed into the kiss, drawn awake by your boyfriend’s soft touches.

Raphael froze still upon hearing the small sleepy noise come from you. His heart fluttered nervously in his chest, afraid he had been caught in his intimate moment. Slowly, he pulled away from your lips and looked down at your face. Raph was met with the sight of lidded eyes staring up at him, with a faint blush and sleepy smile gracing your face.

Raph was indeed caught. But before he could fully process his quickly rising embarrassment, you quickly shut your eyes and feigned sleep once again.

“........???????” He was very confused now. That was definitely not the reaction he was expecting.

“......(y/n).....?” Raph called out to check on you, not exactly sure what to do in this turn of events after being caught sweetly kissing his sleeping lover. But you just kept your eyes closed, a very loving smile still painting your face.

“Mmh...... no..... I’m still asleep....... keep kissing me......~” You whispered sleepily from your spot nestled in the crook of his arms.

Raph was stunned. It felt as if an arrow had pierced his heart and warmed his whole body from head to toe. Your smile only grew wider from feeling him go tense, and your hand slowly reached up to stroke against Raph’s rough cheek, tempting him to draw back in until your lips met once again.“Mmh~” You made a happy sound that hummed ticklishly against Raph’s lips, breaking him out of his surprise and enticing him to return the kiss.

It was soft, slow, and wet, how your lips moved against each other in your own quiet revere under the comfortable cover of night. You both drew away for breath, only to gravitate in to meet again and again to taste each other. Raph became emboldened as your hand lazily trailed up to push up his mask, and he leaned down to start peppering kisses across your face. Smooching your nose, your eyelids, the dips of your cheeks, your brows, forehead, and the corners of your mouth. He smooched his lover softly until you were left giggling softly in his arms. He paused to listen to the adorable sound, more bright and peaceful than any church bells, before he went back to praise and worship those velvety lips once again.

You kissed back more slowly than before, your passion still there but your energy seemed to be waning. Your hand slid from Raph’s cheek and came to rest on his chest, and you felt your mind grow fuzzy from the gentle brushes of his lips. Soon, you felt yourself melt completely back into Raph’s warm embrace, as your sleepiness overcame you once again at the parting of one more kiss.

Raphael paused for only a moment to catch his breath between loving smooches, before he moved to return once again. He softly brushed his lips against yours in quiet invitation, but surprisingly, he found that you did not return his kiss. Instead, he felt the slow gentle draws of breath against his lips. You had fallen fast asleep with your head nestled against his shoulder, lulled to rest by his sweet kisses.

Raphael paused as your breaths tangled in the small space between your lips. All he could do was stare into the peaceful resting expression of his lover wrapped warmly in his embrace. His gaze didn’t leave your lips, swollen red from his attention. The soft breath of sleep tickling against his own sensitive lips. The large turtle felt a smile tugging at his mouth at the sight of his normally energetic partner so easily put to sleep in his arms. He wondered briefly if he could ever endure this level of affection from you at your usual energy, and came to the conclusion that he would most likely combust after only a few seconds.

Raph eventually came back to his senses. His cheeks heating into a bright red glow of self-consciousness as recognition dawned of his own actions.

“...........shit.”

Raphael closed his eyes tightly shut as he tried to shut out the feeling of steam rising from his head. He ducked his head, burying his heated face into your hair as he tried to suppress the building need to implode from embarrassment. He silently muttered excuses but quickly gave in to the strong feelings clenching in his chest.

He was helplessly in love with you.

(He was still denying it.)

“...........What are you doing to me shorty...” He quietly mumbled, resentfully, yet, adoringly into your hair.

(But of course, that won’t stop him from trying to suffocate these embarrassing feelings. He had a reputation to uphold after all.)

But it was times like these, under the privacy of a silent night, with sweet words and gentle touches, that Raphael gave in.

It’s the little things.

And he carried you off to bed.

The End

#tmnt fanfic #tmnt x reader #bayverse tmnt #tmnt bayverse #tmnt bayverse x reader #tmnt 2014 x reader #tmnt 2016 x reader #tmnt imagines #bayverse raphael #bayverse raphael x reader

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masterofmunson · 2 years

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promises, promises (2)

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend, Eddie Munson, accuses you of cheating on him due to your strange behavior. If only you could tell him you were hunting interdimensional monsters instead.

Word Count: 5.7k+

Warnings: language, drugs and alcohol mentioned, SMUT (18+, minors dni i’m serious), unprotected sex, oral (fem), p in v sex, fingering

Author’s Note: Here’s this monster of a part two! Again, thank you so much for all the love on the story so far. Please let me know what you think and please comment/reblog/send asks on content you read!

You wake up to the harsh sound of your doorbell ringing the next morning. Your parents must not be home to answer the door. You groan loudly and kick your comforter off your legs.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” you shouted as you ran downstairs. You unlock the front door quickly and tear it open. You glare at the two teens standing at your doorstep. “What the hell guys?! Why are you ringing my doorbell like a maniac on a Saturday morning?”

Dustin and Max push past you and enter the foyer of your home. Both their eyes are wide with concern and Dustin begins to pace the length of the hallway. “Did you go see Eddie last night after dinner?” he asked, picking at his nails.

You shake your head. “No, why?”

The two teens share a tense look before Dustin walks further into your home. He squats down in front of the TV and turns it on. He flicks through the channels before it settles on Channel 9 News. The voice of Beverley Moss fills the family room. You watch with rapt intensity, your gaze focused on the background of the screen.

You notice Eddie’s trailer behind the reporter. You’ve been there more times than you could count. If you and Eddie weren’t going on dates or driving around in his van, you were at the trailer. Police move in and out of his home and sirens flash off screen.

Blood rushes to your head as you listen and watch the screen. A student was found dead in Eddie’s trailer. No other details are being released at this time. You feel like puking. Eddie would never hurt anyone. He talks a big game in order to keep from getting hurt. It was why he wore Eddie “The Freak” Munson as a badge of honor, but you know him.

You know Eddie better than he knows himself. You know that his dad leaving and mom dying scarred him in ways you don’t understand. You know that despite the amazing relationship he has with his uncle, he fears Wayne will leave too. He’s insecure and hides behind his long, unruly hair and heavy metal music.

It’s why, upon further reflection, that you’re not surprised Eddie thought you were cheating on him. When you first started dating last summer it took a lot for Eddie to open up to you. You just graduated and were nannying full-time when you ran into Eddie at the local bookstore. He caught you browsing the Dungeons and Dragons display.

“I didn’t know the star soccer player of Hawkins High enjoyed the Devil’s Game,” he smirked, standing alongside you. You nearly jumped out of your skin and knocked a number of boxes over as a result.

You turned and glared at Eddie, clutching your chest. “Jesus Christ, Eddie!” you hissed. “You scared me. You can’t just come up to people like that! What if I hit you?”

He grinned, squatting down and helping you pick up the boxes you knocked over. “Sorry,” he laughed, fixing the boxes on the display before turning to you. “I saw you staring at the display for the last five minutes and came over to help. You look lost and as the Dungeon Master of Hellfire Club, it’s my duty and solum oath to guide those new on their D&D journeys.”

You laughed softly and tugged a loose strand of hair that had fallen out of your ponytail behind your ear. “I regret to inform you that I’m not looking for me. The girl I nanny is obsessed and her birthday is coming up. She’s been asking for more supplemental materials and I don’t know what I’m supposed to get,” you sighed, staring at the large display. “I should’ve brought her brother with me, but he can’t keep secrets.”

Eddie clapped his hands together before pointing out everything you should buy. In the end, you bought a set of new character sheets, dice, and an updated handbook on all the rules and procedures as of June 1985. You thanked him profusely as he walked with you to your car.

You always thought Eddie was attractive. Robin and Steve teased you for it, but they never made fun of you. You enjoyed his loud, theatrical rants during lunch period even if his rants targeted any of the groups you belonged to while you were in high school. Now, all of that was behind you. Your social reputation won’t suffer if you’re kind to Eddie Munson on a random Friday in a local parking lot.

“You’re not what I thought you’d be, Munson,” you teased lightly, leaning against the hood of your car. A bright smile and soft laugh cover your face.

Eddie gasps playfully and hides behind his hair. “What? Mean and scary?” he teased as you nodded in replied. “Who me? Never! I honestly didn’t think you knew who I was,” he said, twirling a strand of his hair between his ring-clad fingers.

“Eddie, c’mon,” you laughed shaking your head at him. “Just because we were in different social circles in high school doesn’t mean I didn’t know who you were. We’ve had several classes together since I was in 7th grade. We were paired together for Ms. Braun’s theater and arts project, remember?”

“How could I forget?! We aced it because of you!”

You rolled your eyes then and shake your head again. A beat of silence falls between the two of you and Eddie rocks back on his shoes. “Even though you were a jock, you were always nice to me, even when I probably didn’t deserve it. I thank you for that,” he murmured quietly with tinted cheeks. You grinned at his sudden shyness.

“Everyone deserves kindness, Eddie,” you replied with equal softness, “even the self-proclaimed freak of Hawkins High.”

You saw Eddie several times after that and always made sure to say hi. It wasn’t until after Starcourt that Eddie built up enough courage to ask you out on a date which you happily (and eagerly) accepted. You had to remind him that none of what happened in high school (while you were there) mattered to you anymore. Over time, Eddie was able to accept your warmth and affections without doubt pressing into his mind.

Eddie’s soft and gentle. Eddie is the epitome of warmth. He’s a perfect summer day: a light breeze with the bright sun shining down with no clouds in the sky. He always asks before he kisses you and takes every excuse to hold your hand. Eddie is the perfect gentleman. He would never hurt anyone. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. You felt like fainting.

Dustin and Max grab you by the arms and carefully set you down on the sofa as you stare mindlessly at the TV. “I don’t…. I don’t understand,” you whispered. “What’s going on? Why is there a dead body in Eddie’s trailer? They don’t think Eddie has anything to do with this, right? He would never hurt anyone.”

Max mutters your name and you tear your eyes away from the screen to look at her. Tears threaten to spill over your cheeks and she gingerly takes your hand and squeezes it. “I saw Chrissy Cunningham walk into Eddie’s trailer last night,” she said.

Your heart squeezes tightly at the mention of a prettier, more popular girl entering Eddie’s home. Did not saying anything in the first place solidify your relationship status? Did Eddie think you broke up with him so he was free to fuck whomever now? It made you sick just thinking about it.

If he did, he wasn’t the one to blame. You were. Eddie hadn’t technically cheated on you, if that were if fact the case. Your relationship was never complicated until a week ago, and now you might’ve messed up the best thing to happen to you.

“Have you told the cops?” you asked, pushing past the inner turmoil you feel.

“No.”

“Why?”

Max sighs and plays with her fingers. “After I saw them go into the trailer… something else happened. The TV went out and the lights flashed like crazy. At first, I thought it was nothing because it happens all the time, but then I saw Eddie’s face as he left. He was scared… really scared because… because…”

“Because something else killed her?” you finished quietly and she nods.

“Which is impossible, right?”

Your eyes meet Dustin’s and suddenly all the sleuthing and research and hiding out you’ve done over the last month starts to come to fruition. Your gut hadn’t been wrong. Something was happening in Hawkins, but you were too early. You had nothing to go on except the one lone nightmare you had. Now someone was dead. You should’ve done more, maybe if you had Chrissy wouldn’t be dead.

“I don’t know. The only person who knows what happened is Eddie. We have to find him before the police do. They’ll probably want to question me, so we have to hurry. Let me go get dressed and we can go,” you said, standing up from your spot on the couch.

You run upstairs and get dressed quickly. You dress in a pair of dark washed jeans, a loose, lilac t-shirt, and a blue windbreaker. Pulling your duffle bag out of your closet, you stuff one of the t-shirts Eddie gave you into the bag. You throw an extra toothbrush and travel sized toothpaste, deodorant, and shampoo in as well. You dig the nail bat out from the back of your closet and the walkie talkie that sat a top your dresser.

Hurrying downstairs, you run into the kitchen and drop both the bag and the bat at the front door. You pull the box of Cheez-It’s from the shelf along with the box of Cheerios. You grab a handful of granola bars and water bottles before throwing them in a plastic bag.

“What are you doing?” Dustin asked from the kitchen counter.

“Gathering food for Eddie. He’s probably starving,” you said, swinging your bag over your shoulder and holding the bat by the stem. “Let’s go.”

Grabbing your keys and wallet from the table, you follow Dustin and Max out the front door. Locking it behind you, you jog to your car. Opening the trunk, you toss your duffle bag inside before climbing into the driver’s seat.

“Do you have any idea where Eddie might be?” Dustin asked as you drove down the street towards Family Video.

Your fingers tighten around the steering wheel. “No. He has to be somewhere no one knows about since the cops haven’t found him yet. We’re going to have to call all his friends to see if they have any idea where he might be.”

“Then why are we at Family Video?” Max asked as you parked the car.

“The store has more than one phone,” you answered exiting the car. You walk into the store and stand in front of the counter. You find Robin and Steve organizing VCR tapes. Dustin hurries in after you and jumps over the counter. Both your friends yell at the young teen.

“Listen, we need to use your phones to call all of Eddie’s friends,” Dustin said, typing away at the computer.

“Your new best friend, Eddie?” Steve asked petulantly, standing over his shoulder.

“What, is calling all of Eddie’s friends an emergency?” Robin bit back, fixing the pile of movies Dustin knocked over.

“Yes,” you answered for him.

Steve sighed your name and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re the last person I would expect to entertain Dustin’s ridiculous ideas. If it were any other day, it would be fine, but it’s Saturday!”

You sighed in return and fill your friends in with the information Max gave you and let her fill in when appropriate. You tell them how your monster hunting over the last month and a half hadn’t been in vain, you just had barely anything to go off of and now you did. You beg your two best friends to help you find your boyfriend and they both hesitantly agree.

You watch Dustin write down all the phone numbers of Eddie’s friends as Robin walks into the back off to grab the extra phone. You, Max, and Dustin spend the next hour calling his friends. Every person you called led to the same answer: no one knew where Eddie was.

You hung the phone up and groan in frustration. You lean against the counter and watch Max pace the small length of the counter as she talks on the phone before hanging up. “I think I have a lead. He maybe at Reefer Rick’s. The guy I talked to said Eddie goes there because Rick’s his supplier and he crashes there sometimes.”

No wonder you didn’t know where Eddie was. Eddie never told you where he got the drugs that he sold in Hawkins. He was more than happy to smoke with you, but that’s all he shared. He wouldn’t let you get involved even if you wanted to. He mentioned Reefer Rick once, but didn’t share any other details with you.

“Could we find his address if he had an account here?” You asked.

Robin shrugged, “Yeah, probably. We would be guessing which one he is based on the movies he rents.”

It takes five minutes to find the Rick you’re looking for. Rick’s house is just off the shore at Lover’s Lake. It’s the perfect place to hide. You run out of the store and return to your car. Robin locks the store behind her and the kids climb into your car while Robin goes to Steve’s car.

Pulling out of the parking lot, you sped down the street to the edge of town. Turning down Holland Road, you park in front of Rick’s house. The yard is unkept and weeds grow up the porch steps. Running towards the door, you pace along the porch as Dustin frantically rings the door bell and bangs on the door. Your heart beats wildly against your chest as you wait. You play with your fingers and bite the inside of your cheek.

“Hey, guys!” Max shouted from behind you.

You hurry over to her and stare at what she’s looking at. A boatshed stands just before the shoreline. A lone light is on over the shed door. You run down the slight hill and quickly push the door open. “Eddie?” you whispered into the shed as your friends yelled after you.

“Are you crazy?!” Steve hissed, grabbing you by the arm. “What if Eddie’s not here? We don’t know if this Reefer Rick guy is dangerous or not!”

“Oh, relax Steve,” you sighed with an eyeroll.

“Considering we’ve been close to dying about a hundred times, I rather not.”

You watch him grab an oar from the wall and poke at the inside of the boat in the center of the shed. You tiptoe around the rest of the shed, noticing a pile of junk food wrappers and empty beer bottles on a nearby table. Someone had been in the boatshed recently.

You move your flashlight around the rest of the room. Besides the trash on the table, there were no other signs that someone had been inside. You sigh dejectedly. If Eddie wasn’t here, where could he be?

There’s a sudden crash on the other side of the shed and you run around the dock to find Eddie pinning Steve against the wall of the shed with a broken piece of glass held against his neck. The four of you scream and Steve drops the oar.

“Eddie!” you shouted his name, pushing between the kids with your hands raised. “It’s me, honey. Everything’s okay.”

He turns his head at the sound of your voice. Eddie’s brown eyes are dark and wild, like he can’t believe you’re standing there. He blinks twice and the grip he has on the shred of glass tightens. It’s as if he thinks you’re a desert mirage, that you’re not actually standing in front of him. You wonder if Eddie thinks that his mind is playing tricks on him. He’s had a rough 24 hours and the last thing he needs is another bad thing happening to him.

“Baby,” you plea, taking another step towards him, “we’re here to help you, I’m here to help you. Please let Steve go.”

Eddie’s harsh breaths mix with the sound of soft waves hitting against the dock. He murmurs your name like he can’t believe it’s you standing in front of him in this beat up boatshed. He’s in utter disbelief. It’s like you’ve grown two heads with the way he looks at you.

His grip on Steve’s jacket loosens and he drops the shard of glass. You take two long strides to get to him and he nearly collapses in your embrace. His arms wrap protectively around your torso. Eddie sobs into your neck and clings to you. Your fingers gently card through his hair.

You could barely believe that you were hugging in this circumstance. You broke his heart a week ago and now Eddie was holding on to you like a boat to an anchor. Tears pool at the corners of your eyes as you held your broken boyfriend. You’ve only seen him like this one other time, and it was on the anniversary of his mother’s death. It scared you to think about.

“Eddie, it’s okay,” you whispered into his hairline, kissing the side of his head as you held back tears. “You’re okay. We’re here to help you, okay? Tell me what happened, baby.”

Eddie pulls away from the nape of your neck and holds your face in his hands as the two of you slowly fall to the floor. You brush your fingers through his hair and gently tuck it behind his ears before wiping the tears staining his cheeks. He swallows hard and shakes his head.

“You won’t believe me,” he cried.

Your chest physically aches at his reply and a few tears slip past. You hold his face delicately in your hands. “Try me, Eddie, please.”

His warm eyes search yours as he watches you take one of his hands and slips your fingers between his. You squeeze it gently and kiss the back of his hand. He lets out a shaky breath and relents. He tells you everything, his eyes never leaving yours.

Chrissy went to his trailer to buy drugs, and when he returned from his room to give them to her, she was floating in the air. Eddie described how her bones snapped in different directions and how her eyes were a soft white, void of any color. It was as if something was inside Chrissy’s head, pulling her apart from the inside out.

“I didn’t know what to do so I just… I ran away… I left her there,” he sniffed as he explained what happened.

There’s a beat of silence as you digest what happened. In the end, you were right. Something was going on in Hawkins, and Chrissy Cunningham just happened to be the first casualty. You tried to figure out what was going on, but you were too late, or rather, too early. You didn’t want anyone else to die because of the Upside Down, but it wasn’t possible. Chrissy wasn’t the only victim. Eddie was too. It broke your heart that Eddie felt he had to deal with it on his own.

“You must think I’m crazy,” he muttered, pulling away from you and looking out into the lake.

You shake your head vehemently and gently tug on his chin so he’s forced to look at you. “No, Eddie. I don’t think you’re crazy.”

“Don’t bullshit me! I know how this sounds!” he shouted as another wave of tears escape the corners of his eyes.

“We believe you, Eddie,” Robin murmured, taking a step closer to the two of you.

Dustin joins you on the floor and both you and Eddie turn to look at him. His voice is soft and gentle as he spoke. “What I’m about to tell you may be a little difficult to take…” there’s a soft pause before he continues.

Dustin tells Eddie everything about the Upside Down and the monsters that sneak through the dimension and plague Hawkins. He listens intently and doesn’t ask any questions. Eddie squeezes your hand tightly as the group listens. You don’t add anything. You’ll have time to tell the rest to him later.

When Dustin’s finished, Eddie looks to you. “Is this why you’ve been acting so weird lately?” he asked. “Because you’ve been hunting monsters and shit? Not because you’re cheating on me?”

You can’t help but laugh. Out of all the questions you thought he would ask, that wasn’t one of them. You wipe away the last of your tears and nod. “Yeah, this is why I’ve been acting so weird,” you confirmed with a small smile.

Eddie pulls you into his chest for another tight hug. You take a deep breath and breathe him in. He still smelled the same: hints of a warm, deep musk with remnants of the weed he smokes no matter how old it is. His fingers squeeze the fabric of your windbreaker and you feel a soft kiss to the side of your head.

He helps you to your feet and you watch your friends head to the door. Dustin turns around expectantly, waiting for you to join them.

“You should go,” he muttered quietly. “Come back in the morning.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said, turning to meet his gaze. “I’m not leaving you. I’ll leave when they come back tomorrow.”

Eddie sighs and wraps his arms around you, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck.

“I have stuff in my trunk for you,” you said after a beat of silence as you watched your friends climb up the small hill to the street. “Can you figure out how to get into the house while I go grab it?”

He nods against your skin and leaves another kiss.

You hurry out of the boatshed and run up to your car. Unlocking it quickly, you open the trunk and grab your duffle bag and nail bat. You lock the car again before running to the back porch of the house where Eddie was waiting with the door unlocked.

Eddie pushes the door open just enough for you to slip inside before following behind you. He’s quick to lock the door as you pull the blinds shut and curtains closed for good measure. Eddie takes your hand and drags you along to the master bedroom.

Eddie turns on the bedside lamp and soft light fills the room. To your surprise, the room is nice and clean. The bed is made and the floor is clear. No one had been in the room for a while.

Dropping your bag to the floor, you open it up and grab the toiletries you packed for Eddie. “Do you want to take a shower and brush your teeth?” you asked as you watched him plop down on the bed.

He nods slowly and you take the toiletries inside the bathroom and turn the light on. Eddie trails behind you and stands in front of the bathroom counter as you hand him the toothbrush and toothpaste you brought for him. Eddie brushes his teeth wordlessly as you set the shampoo and bodywash you brought inside the shower.

“Will you… will you shower with me?” Eddie whispered as you turned on the shower. You turn to look at him and a light pink dusts his cheeks. “I just don’t want to be alone.”

Your heart breaks at his admission. Although Eddie hasn’t seen you naked yet, you’re more than happy to appease him. Eddie needs you. He’s needed you for a while. The emotional distance you caused put a strain on your relationship. You don’t want it to happen again.

“Of course, Eds,” you whispered.

Eddie undresses slowly as you do the same. You tug your windbreaker off and toss it in the corner along with the rest of your clothes. You step into the shower after Eddie and the warm water cascades down your back.

You don’t have it in you to feel shy or embarrassed that Eddie’s seeing you naked for the first time. He needs you and you’re more than happy to oblige.

Eddie’s hands settle on your bare hips. His wet hair covers his face and you gently pull it away from his eyes. The sound of your soft breaths mixes with the water as you stare at each other. Eddie’s fingers trail up your body and brush against the scarred flesh along your arm and shoulder. Despite the warmth the water provides, goosebumps litter your skin at his gentle touch.

“What happened here?” Eddie asked, staring at the raised flesh on your body. It makes you shiver as you reach for the shampoo and squeeze some into your hand. You reach up and gently lather the soap into Eddie’s hair.

“One of the monsters got to me last summer,” you answered with equal softness as you scratched at his scalp. “It was heading towards Steve and I pushed him out of the way. The monster’s teeth tore through my flesh and left me with this.”

“Is this why we haven’t had sex yet? Were you scared that I would judge you for something out of your control?”

Your silence is deafening and Eddie frowns. He reaches to hold your face in his hands while yours rest against his chest. Tears pool at the corners of your eyes and you let out a soft sigh. “It’s not that I was scared you would judge me because of the scars. I was scared you would look at me differently. They’re ugly and—”

“Hey, don’t say that,” he chastised quietly, tugging your chin up so you’re forced to look at him. “They’re not ugly. They’re a part of you and I love you, every piece of you.”

Your heart jumps inside your throat. Eddie loves you. Eddie loves you. The man you love loves you back, even after everything you put him through. You’re going to burst and your eyes search his. Eddie’s eyes widen at his admission and he starts to stutter an apology when you gently press a finger to his lips.

“I love you too, Eddie,” you whispered. “I’ve been dying to tell you for a while now.”

Eddie grins and the warmth in his eyes returns. His nose brushes against yours. “Can I kiss you?”

You nod eagerly and Eddie presses his mouth to yours. You smile into the kiss and his lips kiss your teeth. The warm water fills the space between you and Eddie carefully presses you into the shower wall. Your fingers thread through his hair and a breathy sigh escapes your throat as Eddie kissed along the column of your throat down to your shoulder where the scarring began. He kissed and nibbled his way across your skin as you sighed again and again.

Your fingers squeeze his chest as his hands trailed down your torso and settled on your ass.

“Eddie,” you murmured. He pulls away and stares at you. His lips are flushed and his face is a warm pink from kissing you. You gently hold his face in your hands and brush his wet hair out of his face. “I want to apologize. I’m sorry for being distant and not telling you the truth. I never want to make you feel like that again. I love you and I hope you can forgive me.”

Eddie grins and presses another kiss to your mouth. “Of course, I forgive you, sweetheart. Now I understand why. We’re okay, I promise. Can I go back to kissing you?”

Your laugh echoes in the shower and you grin. “I was thinking we could move this to the bedroom?”

Eddie’s eyes widen and his face grows an even deeper shade of pink. “Are you… are you sure? We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. I don’t want to pressure you into doing anything if you’re not ready.”

“I’m sure, Eddie. I trust you. I’ll tell you if I want you to stop, okay?”

Eddie nods eagerly and turns off the shower. He steps out and takes you by the hand. Eddie reaches for a towel and is quick to dry himself off before handing it off to you. It makes you laugh with how eager he is.

When you’re done drying off, Eddie drags you into the bedroom. You climb to the top of the bed and Eddie’s quick to join you. He grins and kisses you hard into the mattress. His bare chest rubs up against yours and a soft moan leaves your throat. Eddie groans into your mouth.

“So pretty, baby,” he uttered into your mouth. It makes you tingle with want and desire. Eddie pulls away and drags his mouth down your body. His fingers play with your nipples before his mouth wraps around your left breast. He nips and sucks and it makes you dizzy. “I could do this all night. Your tits are perfect.”

You moan again and grab at his damp curls. Eddie laughs against your skin as he slides further and further down your body. Your breath quickens and your heart beats wildly against your chest at the feeling of Eddie’s hands between your thighs. His fingers run along the length of your thighs to your knees and back up again.

“Eddie,” you sighed blissfully, “please.”

He chuckles into your skin and kisses the inside of your thigh before teasing his fingers around your folds. Your hips jerk up and Eddie kisses your knee. He pressed his thumb against your clit, gathering your slick between his fingers. “Is this what you wanted, baby?” he smirked, slipping a finger inside you.

“More, I need more,” you begged.

Eddie gently places your legs over his shoulders and your knees squeeze his head. Eddie laughs again and pulls your thighs apart. “You’re soaked and I’ve barely touched you,” he murmured, sinking his tongue between your folds.

A scream rips past your throat as Eddie laps at your center. His ring clad fingers dig into your hips and pin you to the bed. Your fingers card through his hair and tug harshly. His nose brushes against your clit and you squeeze your eyes shut. He laps greedily at your center, kissing and sucking every inch his mouth could reach. It sends jolts of pleasure through your entire body.

Eddie slips a finger inside of you, the cool metal of his rings brush against your folds as he fingers you. You cry out and tighten your grip in his hair again. Your body is on fire. White, hot pleasure runs through you as the coil in your stomach grows tighter and tighter.

“Eddie, I’m—” you cried desperately, bucking your hips to meet his mouth and the strokes of his fingers.

“I got you, baby,” he muttered into your skin, “let go.”

You cum with a cry of his name as he coaxes you through your orgasm. Your legs shake as you come down from your high. You pant hard as Eddie laps up your juices before pulling away and climbing up to kiss you. You hold the side of his face as you taste yourself on his tongue. His mouth slips inside yours and swallows your moans.

“Think you can go again?” he whispered into your mouth before biting your neck. His teeth are gentle as he leaves a warm hickie in his wake.

You nod. “Yeah, yeah, I can. I can go again,” you answered quietly.

Eddie grins against your hot skin before kneeling back on his legs. Your fingers brush against the tattoo against his chest and the necklace hanging from his neck. Eddie pulls your hips closer and carefully takes himself in his hand and lines up at your entrance.

He pushes in slowly and it has you gasping and squeezing his shoulder. Eddie’s thick and fills you to the brim until he bottoms out. He doesn’t move for several, long, antagonizing seconds. You feel your heart in your throat with ever twitch beneath you.

“You’re so tight, sweet girl,” he moaned in your ear, leaning back before slowly pushing back in. His hand wraps your leg around his waist and he presses further into you. Eddie takes your free hand and slips his fingers through yours. You squeeze his hand tightly and let out a soft moan. You clench around him and he groans.

“Faster, Eddie,” you moaned. “Please, go faster.”

His warm laughter fills the already hot room. Eddie captures your lips in a kiss and whispers against your mouth, “Only because you asked so nicely.”

Eddie’s thrusts grow fast and deep. With your legs wrapped around him, he hits the furthest part of you. You scream and beg and moan Eddie’s name. The same white-hot pleasure you felt before returns with equal intensity. Eddie’s skilled fingers toy with your clit with every thrust. Eddie’s lips find yours as he swallows each moan and gasp from your lips. He buries his face into the crease of your neck and sucks a number of hickies into your throat.

“You almost there, baby?” he panted as his thrusts began to grow sloppy as he neared his peak. You nod into his neck and Eddie’s fingers play with your folds.

You scream Eddie’s name and your back arches off the bed as you cum. Eddie grunts your name and guides you through your own orgasm before pulling out and releasing on your stomach. Eddie collapses on your chest and your fingers rub up and down his back as you catch your breath.

Eddie gently turns your head and kisses you sweetly before climbing out of bed and scurrying to the bathroom. He hurries back with a wet cloth and wordlessly cleans the mess he made on your stomach and thighs before using it on himself. Tossing it on the floor, he climbs back into bed and pulls you against his chest. You turn to face him and rest a hand on his face, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

“We’ll figure this out together, okay?” you whispered, kissing him gently.

“I know,” he said, holding your hand in his as he fell into a restless sleep with you by his side.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddie x reader #eddie imagine #eddie imagines #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #my writing

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monarchisms · 2 months

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im merely curious because of what you mentioned previously, but what do you think is different between the watcher service vs dropout? i /do/ think there is one, but i can't put my finger on it

as of right now, there are two major differences in my eyes: legacy and diversity

the first point, i had to think on for longer because though i'm familiar with dropout because my friends are into their content, my own perspective is lacking. so, i did some minor research to fact check stuff

dropout, i feel, is an exception to the rule in regards to internet-based companies making their own website/streaming services. until recently, they have existed as collegehumor since fucking 1999. they have lots of prior experiences to reflect on, and a long-term audience that often gives them feedback they're receptive to. their older content staying on youtube alongside some new ongoing stuff still being uploaded there is a nice plus. ryan and shane got popular through unsolved comparatively much sooner in 2016, as did steven in that same year with worth it, watcher currently is only 4 years old, so their foundation is more shaky right now

what also helped alongside that was that the transition wasn't as jarring as watcher's announcement. their subscription price on launch in september 2018 was $3.99 a month up until december, when they eased into tiered subs, which must've helped a lot. afaik, watcher tv has no mobile app (yet?), and many fans outside the US are region-locked without a vpn or something similar. with watcher and dropout in its current day each being $5.99, this leads into...

the second point: diversity. dropout launched mobile versions of their service 3 months after the official launch. watcher is exclusive to one official platform, as mentioned before, but in my opinion, what hurts watcher the most is series diversity. they have like, one series going on for a few weeks or months before another starts, so if someone paid them the fee, it'd be for something they might not even be interested in. likely, they'd binge the series they enjoy and unsub until the next season comes out. dropout has the advantages of both legacy series under the collegehumor name readily available, and their unscripted ongoing series coming out concurrently with a fixed schedule so than something new would be coming out i think every weekday at this point. it's reall more bang for your buck

all of this is why i said watcher "wanted to be dropout so bad" yesterday. they've created Yet Another streaming service with a price and catalogue that doesn't justify its existence. this could've been a more focused patreon. this could've been a youtube membership. this could've been a secret third thing. this could've been anything else than what we got, and it would've had the potential to be better.

tl;dr- this is watcher right now:

#an economic recession doesn't help #but i wanted to focus on the stuff they can actively control :)#watcher #Anonymous #ask box 360 #send corrections etc etc

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rubra-wav · 2 months

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Why So Blue? Vox x Reader

[ Part 2 - Never Gonna Give It Up ]

A/N Listen man, I don't know jackshit about code or hacking, and that's probably gonna become glaringly obvious throughout this fic 💀

Cw: SFW, gn!reader, intimidation and manipulation, slight mention of blood.

<< [ Part 1 ]

A month went by since the attack on his social media and hijacking of his camera systems had taken place.

The paranoid anticipation of a second attack was deeply present to Vox, but it faded at about the 2 week mark.

Surely, whatever imperfections there were had been mended! Someone would be thrown on the chopping block if not.

All his employees were on edge and were eager not to irritate him even a little bit after last time. Even more than usual. It was excellent to the TV demon, stroking his sadistic power complex even more than it already was.

Every blow done to his ego with the Sinstagram hacking had fallen away, and he was once again power tripping on everything around him. As expected, the home surveillance systems had made him a killing, and he could see places he'd never been able to make it to now.

All of these things put him in a rare string of a genuinely good mood. Everything seemed to be working out.

On the other hand, you worked hard on your next attack that'd far solidify your threat to him, that's for damn sure.

You'd given it a few weeks before you began to really step into your next plot, wanted to lure him into a false sense of security so he'd fall harder off his high horse.

You laid on your stomach in the middle of your living room surrounded by your collection of monitors, clicking away with one hand and typing code out with the other.

The next stage of you trolling him was just gonna be meme material alongside establishing your persona to properly establish your presence in hell.

The more serious pranks up your sleeve would be showing up later down the line. For now, you were just playing games with him for entertainment.

You were barely able to leave home nowadays, opting to befriending people or talking to those you knew before becoming a recluse online.

One of these friends of yours being a certain inventor who ironically very much wanted to be positively noticed by the object of your somewhat despise.

At first, it was because you took pity upon Sir Pentious, having helped to patch him up after he (literally) exploded through the wall of your apartment, however, you came to enjoy his presence.

He was power-hungry, of course. However, he also just wasn't much of a threat at all. He wasn't charming or manipulative - god, was he an awful liar - just good with making things. Pen was a glorified, awkward, and overly goofy fanboy more than anything.

You kept trying to encourage him to work on a business of his own rather than just trying displays of power against Cherri Bomb for the sake of trying to get attention from the Vees, but he just wouldn't listen.

The sound of you receiving a notification from said inventor snapped you out of spacing out at your reflection in the monitor in front of you.

I got the codes you asked for, (Name). 🫡

*Pen included attachments*

Do be careful with these, though. I had to talk to one of my acquaintances in league with lady Velvette's people for these, and they said that it seemed like bad news to have these on you!

Just what are you planning on using them for?

You hummed as you looked at the codes sent, thinking of how you would answer exactly, your eyes wandering absentmindedly to the slightly peeling painting of tree branches on the wall you had done many years ago at this point.

Your eyes snapped back to your monitor as you typed back simply.

Thank you very much! 🧡

And let's just say... tomfoolery.

....

Should I be worried?

You snorted.

Probablyyyyyy~~~

You laughed at the barrage of texts with extremely poor spelling sent to you one after the other half jokingly fretting about you. In the beginning, it was genuine panic from him, but he'd come to know you were smart enough to not kill yourself via being a menace.

Chill out, MUM. I'll be good.

I mean, you most assuredly wouldn't be good, but he didn't need to know that.

You weren't exactly going to reveal you were the one harassing Vox to anyone, even if you were friends. Doing so would be endangering you but also them as well.

You logged the access codes you had gotten from Pentious - ones you couldn't attain normally because they were physically kept in real life - humming and kicking your legs as you cleaned the attack up to make sure there wasn't some missed quotation or something which would fuck the whole thing up.

As you worked hard, a certain someone was about to wake up to the cemented vision of the series of unfortunate events you had in store for him.

This time, Vox woke up in a very unconventional way unlike the prior attack.

One of his main maintenance team members booted him up before his scheduled time.

He looked at the employee with confusion, which quickly turned to anger as he realised that this asshole had intruded into his sleeping quarters, he was very confident, without permission.

The embarrassment about his sleep attire of course underlying. It was hardly the same impression as what he wished to show to the world.

He instantly went to start yelling at the obviously shit scared man in front of him, but he was stopped short as he heard familiar lyrics that didn't yet fully register for him.

"What. What the fuck is that?" He asked, Vox looked at the employee who seemed to be grappling to try and explain.

"We're.. o.. angers.. o love.. u.. ow the rules, and...o do I!"

Vox's eyebrow furrowed in disbelief, mouth parting as he fought to comprehend what was going on, straining to hear what the song was.

"A.. ull.. commitments.. -at.. m.. inking of. O.. ouldn't get this.. om any other.. uy."

Seeing as the employee was useless next to him, Vox got out of bed and quickly raced to his bedroom window, ripping the blinds apart and opening the window.

"I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling, gotta make you understand."

Vox looked absolutely dumbfounded out at the scene of hell before him as his still tired brain fully comprehended what he was hearing and seeing.

"Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down. Never gonna run around and desert you!"

Who in the fuck was rickrolling hell.

It was on every single billboard and screen that Vox could see out the window of the tall building he lived in, the image of Rick Astley singing 'Never Gonna Give You Up' with a small message Vox could barely make out at the bottom of the faraway billboard.

"S-sir, it's been playing since 6am, we haven't been able to turn it off! It's everywhere! This hacker- 'U' they call themselves, its the same person as last time it seems!" The frightened employee standing behind the hunched over and now trembling figure of Vox finally found his voice.

Vox let out a cold bark of laughter, slamming his hands against the windowsill as he jerkily moved to face the employee. "What the fuck," Vox began to approach the young man, him shrinking back from the clearly furious overlord. "Do you mean that this has been p-p-playing," Vox glitched as he gripped both hands on the techie's shoulders. "Since 6 in the fucking morning!" He yelled.

His claws dug into his shoulders hard. He was about to go fully apeshit, but the sane part of his brain won over that at the last second.

This was not one of his lowest earners, and he had far more pressing things to do then prey on the refuse lest his image be messed up any more then it already had.

He stiffly unhanded the employee, eyes admiring the way blood had started beading where his claws had dug in before taking a deep breath, composing himself and then forcing a strained smile.

"My apologies," a lie, of course. "I will deal with this accordingly myself since it seems like you and your team are un-a-able to yourselves." He spat the last part out, before striding out of his bedroom with one last 'get out.' directed at the employee shaking like a leaf in a strong breeze.

It was all over the internet and Vox knew he had no chance of dealing away with it like last time.

He could do away with a stupid Sinstagram post pretty easily. It was moreso from one source - the branches from that easily clipped and made to be forgotten about nearly completely with a carefully placed broadcast that was succinct and to the point with his hypnosis ability, and constant content moderation.

This though was a completely different story.

Even after kicking you from his system (he hoped), he found himself unable to even begin to try moderate everything as he did last time. He couldn't escape 'U' becoming a viral meme overnight.

Someone with obviously incredible hacking skills using said skills not to attack or harm Vox or anyone, but to instead Rick Roll the entirety of hell?

Vox became a victim of the meme culture him and Velvette had cultivated to keep eyes on them, and he hated it.

He was terrified, which of course manifested as red hot anger. Anger which grew even worse as something was discovered the afternoon of him finally managing to remove the video loop being broadcasted.

An account on one of the many social media applications he owned. An account he somehow couldn't touch with one single post going absolutely viral - the same as the text that was displayed across the bottom of video you had infected all of his screens with which he couldn't quite see from out of his window the prior morning.

'Never gonna give it up, never gonna let you go. Never gonna let you run away and avoid me~ - U'

If anyone wants to be added to a taglist for when I update this fic lmk - I was unsure if the people I @ last time still wanted to be (sorry)

[ Why So Blue masterlist ]

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #vox headcanons #vox x reader #why so blue fic #vox #sir pentious

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fandoms-and-salt · 5 months

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My thoughts on Hazbin Hotel's villains, because I think they have a problem

Valentino

Val is just. where do i even start.

His introductory scene is largely comedic and makes his freak-out over Angel just living somewhere else the butt of the joke. The same scene conveys that he is already losing control over Angel and can’t do anything about it, since Angel is ignoring his calls, and Vox convinces him that ignoring this blatant misstep is the better option. This is an okay scene (i even found it funny), but it’s a bad villain introduction. Especially a villain that we are meant to take seriously and, from the perspective of the main characters, fear.

(There’s also an inconsistency with Angel in ep1-2 feeling free to ignore Val’s calls and messages, but in ep4 he is stumbling all over himself to please Val)

His introduction had to be made from the point of view of one of his victims to set up a proper tone of menace to him, instead of making it from the point of view of his fellow overlords, who view him as a whiny dumb piss baby. This scene would be okay a lot later down the line, in my opinion, when we are already familiar with what a despicable dangerous asshole he is, and the characters (Angel Dust) begin to step up to him more. We see his facade crumble alongside the main characters to reveal who he truly is without all his power and control - a whiny sex-obsessed loser.

There's also an issue of us not really getting a scale of his power. This guy is portrayed as an extremely forward hot-tempered dumbass, who has to be verbally guided to make a better strategic move than a “just kill and rape everybody”. He freaking licks the princess of Hell, talks down to her like she is one of his porn actresses, and physically assaults a person under her care right in front of her, and she is supposed to be someone more powerful than him, and he should know that.

This guy can’t manipulate and strategize for his life, so to compensate for this (and make his rise to power more believable), he needs to have some truly impressive physical power. And tearing apart some character offscreen and wielding some guns doesn’t cut, bc basically everyone can do that in hell, what makes him special? Show off how his vaping powers can really fuck people up, poison dozens, hypnotize them, make them addicted to him! Make him so uniquely dangerous that he doesn’t even need to be smart and cordial to rise to power!! Otherwise, how the hell we should believe that he owns the whole porn industry of the Pride Ring, including legally owning his workers, if the show puts more focus on his stupidity and lack of tact than on whatever power he has?

Like he is meant to be our main antagonist and threat, alongside with his TV boyfriend, until the angels come back in the finale, don’t just waste them away on lame jokes.

Speaking of which.

Vox

I like Vox. I like his voice actor’s performance and the voice effects and filters that they give him to reflect his mood. I feel like he had a better introduction than Val (which is not a high bar to clear): it showed that he is pretty smart, strategic, and image-conscious. With this and his heavily implied power to hypnotize and stalk people through his tech, the fact that he is in power and the threat that he poses are much more believable.

Anyway, this gets completely wasted 10 minutes into the first episode he appears in, when he gets verbally floored by Alastor. And he cried about it right after. And later in the same episode we see him fail again at another one of his schemes, bc he chose the most incompetent spy ever. Once again, silly comedy shatters any kind of illusion of threat that the villains might pose. Which also leads me to..

Alastor

Who is not really a villain, and this is kind of a problem. He really could have been a great threat and an antagonist, but i really don’t believe they are going to go in that direction.

Alastor is a very OP character and is the one holding power and control in basically any interaction he is in, including the villains. And since he is an ally of Hazbin Hotel, whose goals (the details of which we are not aware of) partially align with theirs, he completely fucks over any kind of tension regarding anything that might threaten the Hotel or it’s residents. Because you can just throw Alastor at it and make it go away. Because the writers just can’t have him lose.

And we don’t have any reason to believe that he would just refuse to help, because so far? He does whatever Charlie or Vaggie ask him to do. He might be a smug dick about it, but he still does that. He even agrees to film a TV commercial (twice!) despite his vocal hate of such technology. Furthermore, he has to make a deal with Vaggie so they don’t have him do something like this again (granted, this scene might hold some additional implications in the future, but so far this is all the context we got). Why can’t he just refuse to do things that he doesn’t want to do?

Which they could have fixed if they made his power more limited. Either by reducing the scale of his power so he is at most on the same level as the villains,

OR have his presence and help be limited. Make that the characters often can’t access him for help or he just. refuses to help them. He even says that he is here to have fun and watch them suffer, so wouldn’t them struggling to, idk, get rid of Sir Pentious, for example, be entertaining for him? Or balance out his help with instances where he causes conflicts and problems on purpose. Beyond just him annoying Vaggie for comedy’s sake.

And if any of this is what they are actually going for, then you need to make it a point to the audience that yes, this guy is powerful, but don’t expect him to productively help with any of the narrative threats and problems.

And lastly,

Adam and the angels

I don’t like Adam. He is annoying as hell and his jokes are drawn out and not funny at all. The logistics of him being an angel when he is Adam and when he acts like this, give me a massive headache that is related to a whole other topic i’ll need to make a separate post about.

Despite all this, Alex Brightman is doing a great job selling how utterly insufferable he is. His song is also pretty good, one of the more memorable ones in the show. And he (and the angels by extension) is also the most menacing and competent villain on the show so far. ...Do you see my predicament here?

Granted, this is not a very high bar to clear, as established with. the other ones. For example, in contrast to the pilot, we are only told about how dangerous and deadly the exterminator-angels are. “[Sinners] never managed to kill one of us [angels]” “In the latest extermination, [angels] killed the highest 18% percent of our [sinner] population” etc etc. We don’t see the angels killing anybody on screen, we barely see the aftermath of the extermination.

What we do see is the panic and helplessness with which most of the hell population treat the exterminations, including Charlie. We see Charlie struggling to convince Adam of her plan, barely able to talk back to him, which sells Adam as the more powerful in the interaction. We see Adam not showing all his cards to Charlie, like the fact they are planning to completely wipe out the whole Hell/Pride Ring, showing that he is not completely stupid despite his whole deal (well, there’s implied to be some kind of plan here, but i’ll talk about my problem with the logic in another post).

Otherwise, we don’t have anyone else to compare with him, since Charlie is the only one who interacts with angels on-screen. But all of this so far gives a suitable illusion of how dangerous and powerful the angels are. But what will happen if angels are faced with our all powerful Tumblr Sexyman Mary Sue? Will the universe let Alastor lose and then collapse in on itself? Or the other obvious option?

Anyway, in conclusion, Hazbin’s villains are not very good so far. Their main problems are the fact that the writers can't properly establish their threat and lever of power, or they undercut this with unsuitable comedy. Also, they don't know how to use their OP main character, so they won't ruin the stakes of the story.

#lovin rambles #hazbin critical #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel critique #hazbin hotel criticism #hh valentino #hh vox #alastor #hh adam #damn that's a long one #im tired #next post will be a lot later cuz i have more to say obv

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thebiggerbear · 11 months

Text

The Ghosts Are Coming For You Chapter 1 - Beau Arlen x Reader

Pairing: Beau x Female!Reader; Beau x Female!Detective!Reader

A/N: This is my first foray into the character x reader side of writing. I hope it's okay and you guys like it.

To my lovely beta @rieleatiel, you rock girl!

Disclaimer: Let me just say up front, I have never worked in law enforcement so I tried to piece together things I’ve seen and heard in true crime documentaries and podcasts alongside with movies/tv and books. I apologize for any inconsistencies, incorrect information, exaggerations, or complete fallacies. Also, this story is going to take place over a few months. Some things might be delayed or appear illogical to not have been thought of before they take place in the timeline, but it’s purely for story purposes.

Tl;dr: I made shit up.

Warnings: death, graphic descriptions of murder, mention of past sexual assaults, mention of dead body, discussion of dead bodies

Word Count: 7065

Please do not do any of the above. Thank you for your understanding.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist

Series Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch; @superrey; @fromcaintodean; @stoneyggirl2; @zepskies; @lacilou; @perpetualabsurdity; @deansbbyx; @syrma-sensei; @globetrotter28; @roseblue373; @angelbabyyy99; @hobby27

Beau Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @birdiellie; @illicithallways; @muhahaha303

“Got it, Cap. We’re on our way.”

You made your way over to your partner, Jack Darcy, with your brows raised in question as you handed him his coffee. “New case?”

He gave you an appreciative smile. “Yep. Body found on a property over on Missoula. Cap said we need to get our asses over there asap.”

“Okay,” you sighed, opening the passenger door.

Once you and Jack were settled inside the car, he turned a smirk on you after pulling away from the curb. “What’s wrong, Y/L/N? Getting tired of Homicide already?”

You shrugged half-heartedly, keeping your eyes on the road. “Just another day, another body.”

“You’ve only been working this beat for four months. It can’t be that bad.”

It was that bad. Transferring to Montana from New York, you prepared yourself for small city life, thinking things would slow down since the local population you’d be protecting and serving had drastically reduced from over a million to thousands. Boy, had you been wrong.

“Four months and five years,” you corrected. You’d worked your way up to Homicide in Manhattan but once you got there, as good as you were at it, it wasn’t where you wanted to stay. Hence the transfer to Big Sky Country. You had heard Montana was beautiful and not as chaotically complicated as the Big Apple. So far, only one of those things had proven to be true. Something you thought about as you stared out the window at the clear blue sky.

“Yeah, but, you have to admit, things aren’t as crazy here. We’re lucky to get, what, maybe three cases a week?”

“That’s three too many,” you muttered. In the reflection of your window, you saw Jack roll his eyes but he stayed quiet. In the short time you’d been partnered, he already knew to leave things be when you’d get in this type of mood, which seemed to happen every time you got a new case lately.

The truth was that you were tired — tired of the bodies piling up, tired of the horrors you saw that people could inflict on one another. Not to mention you couldn’t even begin to count how many unsolved homicide cases there were, active and cold. Once you landed here, you noticed the differences right away between your former precinct and your new one, resources and budgets being two of them. Your unit was smaller than your previous one and the bureaucratic bullshit that existed everywhere no matter the location in the country was even different in its own ways. You told yourself that you were making a difference, just like you had back in New York, but lately, that mantra wasn’t cutting it. Unbeknownst to Jack or anyone else in the squad, you were starting to wonder if maybe you should pursue a different path in law enforcement, transfer to a different department. Just like your former partner had urged you to do back when he left. Though, what that could be and if it was even possible, you had no idea, but you were thinking about it.

You opened your window slightly, feeling the crisp air hitting you, and it encouraged you to take a deep breath, ignoring the fact that you were barreling towards yet another murder scene, yet another poor soul that had met with a foul end at someone else’s hand.

Jack listed off the details he had been told so far about the case that had been dropped in your laps, making your eyes close in pain and had you grabbing at your necklace under your shirt. Memories flashed through your mind of a crying family, a picture of a smiling young girl in her high school graduation cap and gown with her proudly holding up her diploma, and a sinister smile from an older man in an interrogation room as his eyes hungrily roved over pictures of the crime scene he was accused of creating. You shook your head to clear your mind and took another deep breath of the Montana air in order to assist in dispeling the thoughts, helping you keep your feet in the present you found yourself in and serving as a reminder to leave the past behind as you had promised yourself you would when you moved out here.

As horrible as this new case sounded, you hoped it wouldn’t be connected to the string of murders you and Jack had been investigating since your arrival.

And almost as if your partner had heard your thoughts, he spoke it into existence. “It might not be connected,” he said hopefully, echoing your own wish. “It might be a standalone. Some random.”

“Could be,” you agreed. “But you know as well as I do that it already sounds like the same MO.”

Jack thought over that for a moment. “We won’t know for sure until we get there and take a look around,” he reminded you. He didn’t want it to be connected anymore than you did.

You nodded and decided to leave it for now, knowing he was right. You needed to get there and start your own investigation; that was the only way to know for certain if this victim would be added to the already sizable file you had sitting on your desk back at the station.

As Jack sped you both towards the scene, you offered up a silent prayer to whoever was listening that you wouldn’t need to add this person’s name to your growing list, and that you’d find whoever was responsible. While you were at it, you also prayed for the one thing you asked every single day: for people to stop hurting one another. It might be an impossible thought when there were 8 billion people running around the planet but you still asked nonetheless. If it was answered, you’d be out of a job, yet you would never be so happy to have to look for a new line of work. However, until that prayer was answered or until you made the decision to move on from Homicide, you’d still continue to work the cases and do your best to find answers as well as justice for the victims alongside the loved ones left behind to suffer.

Gripping the pendant on your necklace, you took another deep breath and put your game face on when Jack pulled up to the scene swarming with Helena PD officers and yellow crime scene tape, bordered by curious neighbors and local media. The white sheet instantly caught your eye and you turned to Jack, both of you exchanging a nod before getting out of the car to make your way towards the newest crime scene of your case files list.

You were still inspecting the body when you heard Jack mutter, “Aw, hell.” You glanced up, furrowing your brows in question. He inclined his head towards a Bronco that had just pulled up to the scene.

You turned to see a blonde woman and a man with a Stetson on his head exit the vehicle. The glint of a badge caught your eye from the man’s belt when he moved to close the door. Both he and the woman started glancing around, walking up to one of the officers standing sentry at the surrounding crime scene tape and speaking with him. You exchanged a glance with Jack before returning your attention to the body. “Deputies from the Sheriff’s Department?”

Your precinct had clashed with them before, though clashed was a bit of a strong word. Compared to Manhattan, the two departments played better together in their joint sandbox; still, that didn’t mean there wasn’t the occasional pissing match, especially when there was a possibility of jurisdictions overlapping. You had heard all about it from your coworkers but it rarely ever happened when you and Jack caught a case.

“The sheriff,” Jack clarified, making you gape up at him in surprise before turning to look over the man with the hat and beard again with a more discerning eye.

“He’s…young.” He was definitely not what you expected, and you were even more surprised that he hadn’t driven himself to the scene, idly wondering if his department vehicle was possibly in the shop.

“Youngest they’ve ever had I’ve heard, and a transplant from Texas, too. One of the good ol’ boys.” So, this was the sheriff you’d heard so much about. Who was the blonde then? You watched as the officer the two had been speaking to held up the tape and let them through.

And as if he could read your mind, Jack then added, inclining his head in the blonde’s direction, “That’s his undersheriff, Jenny Hoyt.” You recognized the name. You’d heard of her as well. A bit of a wildcard, that one, and she didn’t play too well with others at times. “She’s a local. Rumor also has it that she gets plenty under the sheriff.” You glared over at your partner. He laughed and threw his hands up. “Hey, I’m just saying that’s the rumor.”

Rolling your eyes, you went back to your job. You were studying the shallow scrapes on the back of the woman’s wrist when you heard Jack snapping his gloves off and saw him get up out of the corner of your eye.

“Sheriff,” he greeted. “Jack Darcy, Homicide.”

The man gave him a nod. “Beau Arlen. So, what do we have here?” You could hear the twang coming through. He was from Texas alright.

“37 year old female victim, yet to be identified. Homeowner found her this morning when he was letting his dog out, called us right away.”

“Coroner get a look at her yet?”

“He’s en route. Detective Y/L/N and I are doing the initial workup, we’ll let him take over when he gets here. You know the drill.”

“Oh, I do.”

“Do we have any idea on motive?” Through your peripherals, you saw the undersheriff take off her sunglasses and hold out her hand for gloves. An officer handed her a pair and you could hear the tell-tale snapping.

“None yet. Appears to be a brutal stabbing and her throat was cut. Attack could have happened overnight, while she was walking or waiting for a ride, we’re not sure yet. It’s really too early to tell on motive, but don’t worry, Sheriff, we got it from here.” Jack was giving them just enough info to address what they were seeing while also politely shooing them away. You were grateful for it. You weren’t done examining the body or the scene just yet.

The sheriff chuckled good-naturedly. “I’m sure you do. We heard the call and we were in the area, so we figured we’d drop by and see if you city boys needed any help.”

You bit your lip to keep the wiseass remark you wanted to make from slipping out of your mouth. Jack was right; he sounded like one of the good ol’ boys. He probably meant well but damn did it irritate you when you heard remarks like that, especially when you were mid-investigation onsite. Neither you nor Jack had time for this. Nevertheless, you swallowed down the retort and instead focused on the scene. You had only been here for four months so you were still new, and if you wanted to make a leap somewhere down the line, you needed to play nice and not cause any waves.

In the corner of your vision, Hoyt had bent down on the opposite side of the body, her fingers inspecting the woman’s neck where the more severe gashes were. “Any initial impression on the actual cause of death?”

Okay, fuck playing nice. You weren’t territorial or easily bothered, but other than Jack, you didn’t remember asking for another partner. Any other case you’d have just rolled your eyes and sat back while she did her own workup, entertained at her thinking she would know better than yours or Jack’s experience in homicide, but not today and definitely not this case. “Well, I’m no M.E. but I’d say the huge knife wound to the heart along with the throat slash are pretty good bets for being the culprit. Though we’d have to rule out strangulation based on the ligature marks on her neck, you know, just to be safe.”

“Strangulation, too? That’s overkill,” Hoyt murmured, clearly not picking up on your sarcasm.

“Hence homicide.” You ignored her glare and went back to doing your job. Jack chuckled under his breath at your smartassery.

“Well, we’ll just get out of your way and let you continue playing Coroner then.”

You shrugged, not caring in the least about her attitude. “That’d be great, thanks.” The sooner she cleared out and let you finish doing your job, the better.

She scoffed. “There’s no need to be so—”

“Hoyt,” the sheriff warned. “Play nice. Let’s try and remember we’re all on the same team here.”

You couldn’t help but smirk when the sheriff pulled on her leash. Undersheriff or not, how dare she push her way into your crime scene and start questioning you?

Jack spoke up then. “Sheriff Arlen, Hoyt, this is my partner, Detective Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Pleasure,” you ground out, still staring down at the marks on the victim’s neck and the pattern of bruising that was starting to become eerily familiar.

“Likewise,” the sheriff replied. Hoyt stayed silent, her narrowed eyes trained on you.

Jack exchanged glances with the man before clearing his throat. “Anyway, Sheriff, as you can see, we’ve got things well in hand. We appreciate you stopping by, though.”

Beau shot him an amiable smile. “Of course. We’ll get out of your hair. Come on, Hoyt, let’s leave them to it.”

Hoyt never broke her gaze away from you as she got to her feet, snapping off her gloves. You smirked wider, shaking your head in amusement.

Jack’s phone started ringing and he grabbed it. “Sorry, gotta take this.” At Beau waving him off, he immediately picked up the call. “Yeah, Cap? Ah, we’re still going over it but—yeah she’s looking at the body right now. Looks like the attack didn’t happen onsite but she’s confirming that right—.”

“She wasn’t attacked here,” you confirmed for him, never taking your eyes off of the scene in front of you.

“Sorry, Cap, one sec. What was that, Y/L/N?”

You slowly lifted your eyes to his. “She wasn’t killed onsite.” You saw Jack’s shoulders slump slightly and any hope he had held onto when taking Anderson’s call immediately go right out of him. You both already knew as much, the signs of a body dump surrounding the scene, but Jack didn’t want to be the bearer of that news to your captain.

Jack told Captain Anderson he’d call him right back and promptly hung up. “You’re sure?” He asked, sounding deflated.

You gave him a nod, glancing at him somewhat sympathetically. “Positive.”

Your partner sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Shit.”

“What makes you so sure?” Hoyt questioned, her arms crossed and scowl trained on you.

So begins the pissing match. Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you pointed to the body. “What’s the one thing missing from this scene that should be everywhere?”

Both the blonde and the sheriff quickly scanned the area. “Blood,” the man answered.

“Blood,” you confirmed. “There are no footprints or drag marks around the body. No ID, barefoot, clothes are slightly torn and oversaturated with blood but otherwise holding up well, blood and mud-stained soles of her feet on a well manicured lawn after a dry evening with no blood drops or trails anywhere, decomp is more advanced than it should be if she died last night…she was dumped here.” You then pointed to the shallow cuts you found near the victim’s hands and wrists. “And she fought like hell.” You let your eyes linger on the victim for a moment, shaking your head sadly, and got up with a sigh. “She was tortured for a while before she was killed.”

“But why dump the body here? On some random person’s lawn in the middle of the city where the killer could have easily been seen or caught on camera? Why not leave her somewhere she’d never be found, where they wouldn’t have to risk themselves being seen?”

Your gaze moved over to Jack, both of you already knowing the answer to all of that, and he heaved his own heavy sigh.

“To send a message,” he answered.

“A message? To whom?” Hoyt asked.

Your eyes never leaving Jack’s, you snapped your gloves off, both of you opting not to share anything outside of the department. If Hoyt wanted answers, she could call Anderson and he could field that one. “That’s what we’re going to try to find out. Darcy, let’s start sifting through missing person reports from the last few days to see if any match her description.”

“She could have been held longer than that,” Hoyt piped in.

You turned a glare on her. “No, she couldn’t have.” What was with this blonde? Her boss who outranked her already told her to leave it alone. So why couldn’t she just leave you to your crime scene that you clearly knew more about than she did and just be gone already? One glance at the sheriff studying the two of you intently answered that for you. She was trying to show you up in front of him or show off for him, you weren’t quite sure which.

“What makes you so sure?” Hoyt was outright smirking at you now, content in her attempt to ruffle your feathers.

“As I said, the clothes are in excellent condition despite being soiled and there’s also the state of decomposition of the body. Had she been held longer than the time frame I just mentioned and say, killed yesterday, the state of the clothes would be much worse and they would have started deteriorating sooner. Not to mention her pedicure was not that old. Cuticles are pressed and intact.”

“She could have touched it up herself before she was taken. Or gotten it done right before.”

“Hoyt.” Beau gave her a look when she turned her smirk on him. “Let it go. They’ve got it.”

“That’s alright.” You took a step closer, staring down Hoyt and smirking right back. “Undersheriff Hoyt, if you would like to take over the investigation, by all means.” You waved a hand at the scene in front of you, ignoring Jack’s wide eyes and the motions he made with his hand to get you to rescind that offer. “If you’d like, I can make sure the State is made aware that you are now heading this case.”

“Wait, State’s involved?” The sheriff asked in surprise that then turned dubious.

“They are,” you answered before Jack could, never looking away from the blonde.

“Already?” Hoyt asked, suspicion clear as day on her face.

“Already,” you confirmed, no hesitation. “So shall I call them and tell them that this is now your case?”

Hoyt’s smirk had dropped long ago and the scowl was back in place. She considered you for a moment and then stuck her nose up in the air, downright glaring at you. But she didn’t say a word.

The sheriff took note of yours and Hoyt’s standoff as well as Jack’s anxious expression, then cleared his throat. “Like I said before, we’ll leave you to it.”

You nodded curtly, more than satisfied at the turn of events, and glanced back at Jack. “Call Anderson and update him. We’re looking at another one.”

He gave you a somber nod and moved away to do just that.

You couldn’t resist turning back to Hoyt with a syrupy sweet smile. “Like I said before, a pleasure.” Your smile faded and your eyes burned into hers as you spun on your heel to walk away, knowing that was the end of that little dick measuring contest and who had won. As entertaining as it had all been, you had work to do.

“Hold up a sec,” the man next to her called out.

You took a deep breath and turned, seeing Hoyt and Sheriff Arlen exchanging a glance. The latter locked eyes with you and put his hands on his hips. “You said it was another one. Just how many victims have you had show up with this MO?”

Hoyt arched her brows expectantly at you, waiting for you to answer.

“I’m not at liberty to discuss any ongoing investigations in the Helena Police Department. If you have any questions, you can direct them to my captain. Jack can give you the number.” You then walked away, heading back to the car, more than eager to take a minute for yourself and collect your thoughts under the guise of needing to make a call. You couldn’t believe you and Jack had yet another victim on your hands this soon. The guy you were after didn’t appear to be slowing down at all; if anything, he was picking up his pace, and that worried you.

It shouldn’t have surprised you when the sheriff was suddenly next to you, matching your stride. “Bureaucratic bullshit aside, I need to know, are we dealing with something nasty here?”

“Nastier than someone brutally torturing and killing another person, then dumping the body somewhere she’s sure to be found so another person can be terrorized?”

“Good point. But you know what I mean. I saw you and Dorsey back there, I know there’s something you’re not saying. Are we talking about a serial killer or something else?” He shook his head when you didn’t answer him. “Come on, Detective Y/L/N, tell me what we’re dealing with here.”

You let out a breath and stopped in your tracks, turning to face him. “It’s Darcy. And we are not talking about anything or dealing with anything together. As I said, if you have any questions, you can direct them to—”

“Your Captain, yeah, I got it.” He took a deep breath and his hands were back on his belt, green eyes pleading with you though there was a sharp edge to them. “Listen, if there’s something serious going on in my county, I need to know about it. If the shoe was on the other foot, we’d give you the professional courtesy, you know that.” You had to admit that he had a point, though you weren’t exactly sure how he didn’t already know about the growing threat, from local media coverage to small town folks talking. You may have oversold State’s involvement earlier to get Hoyt off of your backs so you could continue to do your jobs without further interference, but nothing could be further from the truth. Captain Anderson as well as the Chief were doing everything they could to keep things tight and close to the vest. A serial killer on the loose in this area wasn’t exactly unheard of; there had been the Bleeding Heart killer that evaded capture for years until recently. However, your bosses were under the strict impression that people didn’t need to worry about another potential problem, possibly breaking through the front doors of their homes, or abducting and killing their neighbors quite so soon. It would look like they couldn’t get a handle on their city, people would be too scared to leave their homes, people would stop coming through here, and Helena would become known as a haven for serial killers. At least that’s all of the bullshit reasoning you’d heard so far.

You personally disagreed with it all; you had learned first hand back in New York how valuable it could be to the investigation to keep the local population on alert, and how it might help reduce the number of victims. It could even provide a break in the case. Out here, in a close knit community such as this one, well, public awareness was not always viewed the same way hence all the bullshit justifications in keeping it quiet. At least as far as you had seen with this particular string of murders, anyway.

But even with your bosses working hard to keep a lid on things, how had this sheriff or his department not somehow become aware of what was going on right under their very noses?

Your gaze flickered back to the scene, seeing Jack talking with Hoyt, most likely in the same position you were in since the sheriff duo obviously decided to try to divide and conquer, before it landed back on the man in front of you. Seeing the concern layering his brow, his expression determined, you decided the hell with it. You’d made the case to Anderson more than once for things to go public, to lean on State more, to compare notes with other law enforcement such as the Sheriff’s Department to see if there were any other patterns or victims you were unaware of, missing or dead, or maybe even reported attempts at abduction or someone seeing something strange that could help turn the tide. Yet each time, you’d been denied and politely warned to keep your mouth shut, your head down, and to focus on your job. Well, you were already thinking of a change; what could it hurt to let this earnest looking sheriff know what was really going on? Perhaps he’d even do something with the limited information you could give him and jurisdiction squabbles aside, would it really be so bad to have another pair of eyes on the lookout for the same things you were? You didn’t think so. “Bureaucratic bullshit aside, nothing has been officially determined yet. For this case or..any others.”

His eyes tightened. “How many are we looking at so far?”

You bit your lip and turned to look at the officers surrounding the area. “Five.”

“And she’s the sixth?”

“If it’s determined that this fits that MO, then yes.”

“Based on your previous cases, does it?”

You gave him a look, staying silent. He knew you couldn’t answer that outright.

The sheriff let out a sigh and dropped his gaze to the ground. “Span of time?”

“Four in the last four months.” His head snapped up, his mouth hanging open. “That’s since I’ve been here. One was found right before I showed up.”

He nodded and glanced back towards the scene. “Goddamn,” he said under his breath. After a moment, he turned back to you. His features started to relax slightly and the beginning of a smile began to form on his lips. “So, that’s why I haven’t seen you around before. I was wondering. Four months, huh? How’re you liking it so far?”

You glanced back in the direction of the body. “Seriously considering a change of address,” you muttered. “Maybe something tropical. People seem happier near beaches. I’m thinking it’s gotta be the sand, bikinis, and free-flowing booze. That or people are just too exhausted from being in the sun all day. I think that’d suit me just fine.”

A warm laugh escaped him as his bright smile graced you, reaching up to his eyes this time. It made you nearly smile in response, it was that infectious. He was certainly attractive and he had the whole sexy cowboy sheriff vibe working for him, complete with hat. For a split second, you wondered what could have happened had you met him at one of the local bars some night where your introduction to one another would have been vastly different. You tried to picture yourself line dancing at some country bar he might frequent but couldn’t. You’d tried it once but never really cared for it. You were more of a swayer and every so often (with a certain amount of liquid courage or lust coursing through your veins) a grinder. Instead, you might have grabbed his hat off of his head to get his attention and plopped it on yours, uttering the cheesy line of “Save a horse, ride a cowboy” or something to keep his focus squarely on you for the rest of the night. Before you could get too carried away in your thoughts, seeing an officer moving past you reminded you of why you were here. You needed to concentrate and get your head back into the game.

“Oh, come on,” he urged, thankfully completely oblivious to what you had been thinking. “It’s only been four months! It took me at least six to settle in when I moved up here. You’ve got to give it at least that. I do copy you on the beaches thing, though. Definitely a slower pace.”

“Right? Though it’s gotta be a real pain in the ass to collect evidence in between tourists and the saltwater. You know what? Maybe I should just change careers. I’ll become a lifeguard. Bring some Baywatch to the Bahamas.” Oh no, that sounded flirty, hadn’t it? You hadn’t meant for it to sound flirty.

His eyes lit up slightly but his amiable smile stayed the same. “I have no doubt in my mind you could.”

You nearly smirked but forced yourself to look disappointed. “But then again, there are sharks in the Bahamas, so maybe my Baywatch lifeguard audition will have to wait until, say, never.”

“Well, that’s a crying shame. Just when I thought I’d finally make the plane ride to the Bahamas.” His voice had dipped in register and his gaze burned into you, making you almost shiver. It was very obvious what he was thinking and you were thankful you were surrounded by several officers, your partner included, because there was no telling what you’d do if it was just the two of you and he looked at you like that. You had a very good idea of what he’d do and you found that you didn’t mind all that much, if you two weren’t on the job and he wasn’t already involved with someone else.

You forced yourself to focus, holding a hand up. “Alright, slow your roll there, Hasselhoff. You want to swim with the sharks, you go right ahead. Me? I’m staying on dry land, thank you very much.” He laughed again and you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms, thankful that you had been able to change the course of that conversation. “So, six months, huh? From Texas I take it?”

His smile got brighter if that were even possible. “The accent that obvious?”

“The accent, the hat, the whole cowboy vibe you’ve got going on.” You gestured to him with a hand.

“You got something against cowboys?” He teased.

“Nope. It’s just that we don’t see too many of those in the Big Apple.”

“New York, huh? Should’ve known. You’ve got the whole SVU vibe working for you.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes again. Like you hadn’t heard that one before. “Not every female detective from Manhattan is named Olivia Benson and not all of us work out of SVU.”

He held his hands up, still smiling. “I didn’t mean anything by it, darlin’.” At your raised brows, he chuckled. “Just a friendly term where I come from. I didn’t mean anything by that either.”

“Uh huh.” You spun on your heel and continued your trek to the car, nodding your thanks at the officer who lifted the crime scene tape for you to pass under. The sheriff continued to dog your steps which made you smile discreetly.

“So, tell me, how do people on that tiny island live all squished together like that?” He wondered.

“I don’t know, one and a half million people somehow manage to figure it out every day.”

“One and a half million? Son of a bitch.” You had just reached the vehicle when he turned to you. “Who am I kidding? I come from Houston and we have even more people there. Except we’re spread out and have more room to roam.” He chuckled, expecting you to find that as funny as he did.

You gave him a polite smile and opened your door, waiting. “Was there anything else you needed, Sheriff?”

“Please, call me Beau. And yeah, there was one more thing.” You arched a brow up at him and his grin melted into a different smile altogether, making something flip inside your stomach. Uh oh. You were back in that murky territory from a moment ago. “I was wondering if you’d let me take you to dinner.”

Your gaze snapped to where Jack was currently talking on his phone. Hoyt wasn’t too far from him, watching your every move, you swung your head back to find the sheriff staring at you expectantly, the same smile from before sitting on his bearded face. You decided not to beat around the bush. “I was under the impression that you were…otherwise engaged.”

His brows began to furrow in confusion. “How do you mean?”

You inclined your head back in Hoyt’s direction. He quickly glanced over and then back to you. “What, Hoyt? No, we’re just partners. She’s my undersheriff and a friend, nothing more.” You shot him a look and he laughed. “I’m serious, there’s nothing going on. I’m free as a bird. So, how about that date?”

You bit your lip in thought, trying to think of the best way to politely turn him down. You really, really wanted to accept, to see where this might go, even if it was just a one time thing, but the way Hoyt was eyeing him and you right now, there was bound to be trouble there, even if it was only a simple dinner between you and the cowboy. Which, as Beau had said before, was a crying shame. He seemed nice enough but you really couldn’t afford to make waves, not if you planned to secure another transfer after such a short stint up here. You would have to politely decline his invitation. “I’m probably going to be working late, especially with this new case. Thank you for the offer, though.”

He tilted his head, smiling wider at you. “Come on, you gotta eat sometime. Besides, what kind of sheriff would I be if I didn’t show a newcomer such as yourself some of the great things Helena has to offer? Like the steakhouse I’d like to take you to. They have the best ribeye in the whole county, hand to God.”

You could see that he expected that to do the trick. So, you turned the tables on him. You closed the door and crossed your arms. “Texas, didn’t you already pump me for information about this case? I gave you what I could. There’s nothing else I can give you.”

His eyes flashed at your last statement. Uh oh. “I doubt that’s true but be that as it may, I’m not asking you to dinner to talk about work. As a matter of fact, I have a strict policy during dinner: no work-talk. So, what do you say, darlin’? Let me take you out?”

You glared up at him. “Will you drop the darlin’?”

“If you really want me to,” he agreed.

“I really want you to.”

“Consider it done. May I call you by your first name then?”

“I’d prefer it to darlin’.”

“Alright. Y/N. Now that we’ve got that settled, I’ll pick you up at your place, say around…7?”

Shit, were you really going to do this? You could not afford to make waves. There wasn’t really anything stopping you. You two worked for different departments, precincts even. He wasn’t your superior and while he outranked you, you weren’t working with him. He had addressed the Hoyt issue head on, assuring you they weren’t involved. You two were grown adults, able to just have a nice meal together. Besides, you hadn’t had a good steak in a while and what could it hurt? Although, you couldn’t have him come to your house because you were pretty sure you’d never make it past the porch, not with the way he had been eyeing you up earlier, not with how often your thoughts headed in that direction.

You noticed him lick his lips as he waited for your answer. It easily could have been a nervous tic, thinking you’d might turn him down, but your brain zoned in on the action. His smile was warm, infectious, and you hadn’t terribly minded your little banter before. You could probably have a somewhat decent time and get along fairly well. Before you knew it, you were agreeing to let him take you to dinner. “Make it 7:30, outside the precinct. I’ll be done around then.”

When he grinned happily, you felt that same flip-type feeling from earlier. Maybe dinner with someone other than Jack and something other than takeout on the fly wouldn’t be so bad. It’s not like you were promising the man anything other than a meal filled with conversation. And he had been right, you could eat, though you’d never admit it to him. It’s not like you were jumping right into bed with him…hence why you asked him to pick you up at the precinct.

“7:30 it is. I’ll see you then, Y/N.” He flashed you another smile and turned to walk away.

“See you then, Texas.”

He tipped his hat in your direction, his eyes taking forever to leave you, and headed back over to the scowling blonde. Figures — the first guy to officially ask you out since your move here would be within the vicinity of a crime scene, not to mention the whole little flirtation moment. That was just your luck, wasn’t it? A part of you even wondered if you were normal for accepting his offer at said scene, not knowing a thing about him or once thinking it odd that he chose this to be his moment after seeing a dead woman who had been stabbed repeatedly by some sick bastard.

You shook your head, unsure of what the hell you had just gotten yourself into, thinking your whole life was a weird mess, so what was one more strange thing? You sat inside the passenger seat of the car, laying your head back against the headrest as thoughts of this case ran through your mind.

Another one. How the hell was that even possible? There were now six victims with the same MO. Knife to the chest, ending in the heart, after their throat had been slashed but before they completely bled out. And this was after they’d been tortured for hours, days even, where they’d been repeatedly strangled to the point of unconsciousness and then brought back so more horrors and pain could be inflicted on them. It reminded you of a series of homicides you’d worked back in Manhattan, with an eerily similar MO; the difference was that those victims were sexually assaulted, asphyxiated with a plastic bag over their heads repeatedly, and their bodies were dropped off at different anchor points, not some random location where the body was guaranteed to be discovered within a short amount of time and it would put the killer at risk to be easily spotted by passersby or security cameras. Not to mention, you had closed the Manhattan case; the bastard was still sitting in jail — you’d checked.

You slipped your necklace from underneath your shirt and began to move the pendant back and forth as you thought it over some more. The victims here in Montana matched one description: a woman in her mid to late 30’s, usually turned out to be single or at the least casually dating, nothing serious. She always had Y/H/C hair, working hard in her chosen career or job, and she appeared to have been a decent dresser while doing the upkeep required for her fingernails and toenails. That was really what prompted your hunch about the pedicure that you couldn’t tell Hoyt, and let’s face it, wouldn’t tell her unless you were forced to. The territorial blonde had definitely left a bitter taste in your mouth.

But the New York victims had been women of various sizes, races, ages, and stations in life. One was a sex worker, one was a single mom, one was a lawyer from the Upper East side, one had been a late teen fresh out of high school… You closed your eyes in pain, gripping your pendant tightly. That had been one of your toughest cases to date. You didn’t like to think about it but that had been the one to light a fire deep within you to do whatever it took to hunt down the sick bastard who had done that to her. You worked tirelessly with your partner, trying to fit the pieces together, and run down the very little clues you had. In the end, it had all paid off. You made sure you were present that day in court for that son of a bitch’s sentencing.

You opened your eyes and thought back to your current case. Every detail of this scene fit the details of previous scenes to a tee, minus the location where the body had been dumped. But the why of the dumping seemed to fit into a pattern. Something kept prodding at you, pulling at your instincts. Something was off here. You knew you were dealing with a serial but something kept pushing at you about Manhattan… It had to be the similarities. It was only natural for you to recall your experience when you saw similar MO’s in trying to figure out who was behind the killing and what their motivation was. Yes, that was it.

You were interrupted in your reverie by your cell phone ringing. You answered it on the first ring. “Yeah?”

“I need you up here,” Jack requested.

“On my way.” You hung up and took a deep breath, slipping your necklace back under your shirt, and stepped out of the car, intent on heading back up to where your partner was. You both needed to figure this out and fast. You knew this woman was about to be added to the list of murder victims that had been the work of a serial you were currently tracking down, and based on how frequently he was doing this, he was only just getting started.

A/N: Please let me know what you think. 👉👈

#beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x you #beau arlen x y/n #big sky fanfiction #beau arlen #beau x reader #beau x female reader #beau x you #beau x y/n #beau arlen fanfiction #the ghosts are coming for you chapter 1 #thebiggerbear

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cosmicjoke · 7 months

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I just wanted to say one more time how incredible, not just this final episode of Attack on Titan was, but the previous special, and truly, all of MAPPA's fourth season. The weight with which they handled this story, the seriousness with which they treated it, shows in every frame, in every moment. The voice work from the actors is second to none, and helped bring these characters to life with incredible emotion and complexity. The animators, being overworked and underpaid, put their hearts and souls into this, you can tell, as did the writers and directors. I really can't thank everyone enough.

They captured the drama and seriousness of this story to such perfection, as did WIT when it was the studio behind this show, and together, they've created what, I again say, is the greatest show of all time, bringing one of the greatest stories of all time miraculously to life.

They never handled the material with anything less than the respect it always deserved. One isn't watching a cartoon when they watch this show. One is watching a piece of dramatic cinema worthy of any award celebrating the craft. I really do mean that.

I felt that especially culminated with these final two episodes, which felt more like a genuine event, a cultural moment unfolding before us, than a simple episode of a tv show. These final two specials felt momentous and grand and epic in their scale and scope, and in the emotions they conveyed and the messages they imparted. Attack on Titan is a serious piece of art. Both the manga and the anime. It's a culturally important, and significant piece of culture.

I've come to care so deeply for all of these characters, to regard them as so much a part of my life, that their pain became my pain, their happiness became my happiness, their grief and sense of loss was also in my heart. Watching Armin and Eren speak to each other one last time, watching Mikasa and Eren, watching them hug, and then after, watching them cry and scream at the grief of losing him, all of that was like experiencing a real life friend go through all the same. Watching Jean's and Connie's courage and stubbornness, watching Pieck and Annie and Reiner put aside their differences to work with everyone for the right thing, watching Levi giving every last ounce of what he had left to fight alongside all of them and save humanity, all of it has left an indelible mark on me that I won't ever forget. These characters have become real to me. I care about them like I would a real person. Their story became real to me. When Armin says at the end, people will want to know our story, they'll want to know what we saw, that's real to me. Their struggle, their suffering, their loses, their lives, it's real to me. It means as much to me as any, real life story of heroism, because it's such a realistic reflection of our condition as human beings. It can relate to all of our lives, all of our struggles, all of our grief and loss and hope.

So, thank you MAPPA, and thank you Hajime Isayayam, and thank you Eren and Mikasa and Armin, thank you Levi and Hange and Erwin, thank you Jean and Connie and Sasha, thank you Reiner and Annie and Pieck. Thank you all of you, for bringing so much of worth into our lives. Your story has the power to change the world for the better, to change people for the better, and nothing is worth more than that.

#attack on titan #shingkei no kyojin #eren yeager #mikasa ackerman #armin arlert #jean kirstein #connie springer #reiner braun #annie leonhart #pieck finger #Levi Ackerman #hange zoë #Erwin Smith #the final season #MAPPA #WIT

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brian-in-finance · 8 months

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J Vespa / Getty Images

The Stunning Transformation Of Caitríona Balfe

Few shows have had as big a cultural impact as "Outlander." Based on the novels by Diana Gabaldon, the show follows a World War II nurse who finds herself transported to 17th-century Scotland when she finds magical stones in the Highlands. The show was Caitríona Balfe's big break — previously, the Irish actor had worked as a model and appeared in only a few small productions. However, since playing "Outlander's" Claire, she has become one of TV's most recognizable faces. She has also landed roles in films like "Ford v Ferrari" alongside Matt Damon and Christian Bale and Kenneth Branagh's Oscar-winning "Belfast."

With "Outlander" nearing its series finale in 2023, Balfe is looking ahead to new projects such as the upcoming "The Amateur," as the era draws to a close. It's the perfect time to reflect on her career so far. So, without further ado, here is the stunning transformation of Caitríona Balfe.

Caitríona Balfe’s upbringing in Northern Ireland colored the rest of her life

J Vespa / Getty Images

Caitríona Balfe was born in 1979 in the rural village of Tydavnet (1) near the Northern Irish border. Her upbringing in Ireland has colored her entire life. "It's such a part of the fabric of your life when you live in those areas," she told Vanity Fair in 2022. "It's really not until you get older that you look back and you realize the craziness of it, or the strangeness of it."

And by the sounds of things, it was certainly an abnormal place to grow up. Growing up so close to the border, Balfe was used to being surrounded by British soldiers and once even found herself in the middle of a bomb scare.

Her father was a garda, the national name for the Irish police force, and she was sometimes bullied for it. "Let's say being the daughter of a garda in 1980s borderland counties was not the easiest thing," she later told The Irish Times.

Caitríona Balfe was a voracious reader as a child

As a young girl, Caitríona Balfe filled most of her time with reading. In fact, when she was young, her father took away the family's TV, so instead, she looked to literature for stories and entertainment. As she told The Irish Times, she raced through the classics, including Emily Brontë, Aldous Huxley, George Orwell, and Robert Pirsig — she also was a fan of modern writers like Ian McEwan.

When Balfe reached adulthood, her love of literature continued to be a big part of her life. "You always find her on set with a book," her co-star Maria Doyle Kennedy said. "She's a ferocious reader." And, in 2019, Balfe told Stylist, "I could just lock myself away and just read for a month, which would be so lovely."

She even started her own book club on Instagram where she posts videos about what she's reading for her fans. "First rule of book club.... We read ! Then we talk..!" she wrote in one of the first posts in 2020.

Caitríona Balfe grew up wanting to act

J Vespa / Getty Images

From a very young age, Caitríona Balfe knew exactly what she wanted to do with her life: acting. "It's in you, right?" she said to Backstage when asked about her first inspirations. "Like it's something you're either cursed with, you know, this need for attention and need to perform and all those things," she added, laughing.

Not only was she the fourth of seven children and therefore used to seeking out attention, she also had acting in her blood. After all, her father was something of an amateur actor himself, having appeared in a comedy troupe. "If my dad has some inclination towards it, there is probably something passed down," she mused to The Irish Times. Plus, she added, acting offered a much-needed form of escapism. "[T]here wasn't an awful lot of things to do," she said.

When she got older, Balfe pursued her passion for acting taking a course at the Dublin Institute of Technology.

Caitríona Balfe moved to Paris and began working as a model

Jesse Grant / Getty Images

Before Caitríona Balfe finished her course at drama school, she was scouted by a modeling agent. "I took what I thought was going to be a year out," she told Backstage, "and I never went back. Very, very bold of me."

Balfe dove into her unexpected modeling career, setting off for Paris. "I always just wanted to travel," she explained to Vanity Fair. "Growing up, we never did that — there were too many of us. We didn't have the money."

Even though Balfe had always dreamed of acting, modeling also appealed to her innate desire to perform. As she put it, "There was something about the theatricality of the runway shows — and the event of it — that I really loved." And she was pretty good at it. She appeared in shows for all of the big designers, including Chanel, Alexander McQueen, and Valentino, and even walked the runway as a Victoria's Secret Angel. And so, for a while at least, she committed herself to a career in the modeling industry.

Caitríona Balfe moved to New York City as her relationship with modeling soured

Frazer Harrison / Getty Images

Throughout her 20s, Caitríona Balfe's modeling career careened from success to success. She modeled all over the world but eventually found herself settled down in New York City. "That's been the longest of anywhere since I left Ireland," she told Backstage in 2020. After a decade of modeling, Balfe began to crave something new. "For the last couple of years [of modeling] I was miserable, really," she confessed to Vanity Fair. "It's not exactly the nicest industry or the healthiest industry."

So, discontented with modeling, she revisited her passion for acting, first taking a few classes and later landing a tiny role as one of the "clackers" in the 2006 film "The Devil Wears Prada." "I think they just came to modeling agencies and were like, 'We need a bunch of women who can walk in heels,'" she recalled of the lucky break during an appearance on "The Hollywood Reporter's Awards Chatter" podcast. "My agency knew I wanted to act and if people would come looking for stuff, they were sending me out to a few auditions."

Caitríona Balfe moved to LA to start an acting career

Frederick M Brown / Getty Images

When Caitríona Balfe had finally had enough of modeling, she decided to take a leap of faith into the world of acting — so, she left New York behind and set off for Los Angeles. "LA is where I came and said, 'OK, this is what I wanna do with my life,'" she said to Backstage of her first impressions. She continued taking classes — one was even a $5 class. As she told The Irish Times, "These are the weird things I did when I was wanting to be an actor in LA when I first got here."

In fact, it sounds like Balfe's early years in L.A. were filled with bold, "weird" decisions. For one thing, she only knew one person in the city when she moved. Balfe knew that moving to LA was a bit crazy — but she committed to living in a "bubble of delusion." As she put it, "I guess ultimately I was like: 'I can make this work.'"

At first, following her dream of acting wasn't easy

MJ Kim / Getty Images

Life in L.A. was anything but easy for Caitríona Balfe when she first arrived. Initially, she faced rejection after rejection. "I started from scratch. I didn't have any managers, I didn't know any agents, I hadn't acted in almost a decade," she told Backstage of her initial struggles to land work.

But even though Balfe dealt with lots of rejection, she persevered. Luckily, modeling had given her a thick skin that served her well. "In an audition, if it didn't work out, it wasn't always because you didn't do a good job, or you weren't good," she explained to The Guardian. "It was other arbitrary things like your name's not big enough. Which can also be soul-destroying, but I don't know, it's different."

Balfe did land a few roles, but they were few and far between. In 2011, she had a small role in the film "Super 8." In 2012, she landed a guest role on "The Beauty Inside" and the show "H+." In 2013, there were several films: "Crush," "Now You See Me," and "Escape Plan." Slowly, she was building a stronger CV.

Caitríona Balfe landed her big break with Outlander in 2014

Laura Cavanaugh / Getty Images

Everything changed for Caitríona Balfe in 2014 when she landed the lead role on the much-hyped Starz show "Outlander." "It was a total crapshoot," Balfe later recalled of the audition for the show while speaking to The Guardian. "I had done a few jobs, nothing of note really. I was living in LA and I was really struggling, actually, it was about four or five months since I'd had a job."

At the time, she didn't realize how big the book series was. "I wasn't even aware of the book series when I got the first audition," she said to Vogue. "Apparently, they had been searching for [Claire] for a very long time."

Balfe landed the role when she was about to head off on a holiday in India. Because her career was going slowly in LA, she decided to leap headfirst into a new life, filming in Scotland. "I didn't realize I'd still be there almost eight and a half years later," she later admitted to The Guardian.

Caitríona Balfe shot to fame almost instantly afterward

Almost as soon as "Outlander" came out, Caitríona Balfe became one of TV's biggest names. Ronald D. Moore, who developed "Outlander," had warned Balfe about just how life-changing the role would be. "I walked her to the elevator, and just before the doors closed on her, I said, 'Your life is about to change forever,'" he said to Backstage, recalling the day she was cast. "And she gave me a grin that was both thrilled and slightly nervous. I never saw her hesitate after that."

The first episode premiered at Comic Con. "It was insane," she told Vogue. Soon enough, she began to notice her fame growing. As she told Backstage, she had only a few hundred followers on Twitter before playing Claire. "Within about a month or two, it was thousands of people — and my phone, I didn't know how to turn off the alerts, so it was just going all the time," she said. That's when she realized just how big she was becoming.

Caitríona Balfe became lifelong friends with her co-star Sam Heughan

Ethan Miller / Getty Images

Fame wasn't the only life-changing thing to come from her role in "Outlander" — Caitríona Balfe also gained a lifelong friend in Sam Heughan, her co-star. As Balfe explained to Parade, the pair made a conscious decision to become friends before filming even began. "We were just talking about it and we were like, 'Who knows what this is going to be?'" she recalled. The pair agreed to "have each other's backs." She added, "[W]e've done that from day one."

Since then, the pair have only become closer. In fact, during ATX TV's Women of "Outlander" panel, Balfe explained that she and Heughan have never even argued — although they have bickered. Heughan chimed in: "As our lives have gotten more complicated and busy, we may not see each other as much as we used to, but that core and that friendship and that base that we have has never changed." How adorable is that?

Caitríona Balfe landed a number of big roles in the 2010s

As Caitríona Balfe's fame grew in the wake of "Outlander," she landed more big roles in Hollywood — and worked with bigger and bigger stars.

In 2016, she landed a role in Jodie Foster's all-star film "Money Monster" — her co-stars included George Clooney, Julia Roberts, Dominic West, and Giancarlo Esposito. Sadly, Balfe didn't get to work with them too much as most of her scenes were filmed in front of a green screen. Nevertheless, she was starstruck to be working with Roberts. "I couldn't stop staring at her during our first read-through," she told W Magazine.

In 2019, she played Mollie Miles, the wife of Christian Bale's character, in "Ford v Ferrari." Matt Damon also starred in the film. "I walked into that film with the idea that I was gonna be very intimidated by both him and Matt [Damon]," she told Collider. But she was pleasantly surprised. "Immediately, when you meet both of them [and] the first thing that struck me about both of them is that they're just these great, humble family men. There was no ego or bravado. It was lovely."

Caitríona Balfe starred in Kenneth Branagh's Belfast in 2021

Caitríona Balfe landed a huge role in Kenneth Branagh's "Belfast" in 2021, playing Ma, the mother figure in Branagh's semi-autobiographical tale about the Troubles in Ireland. For Balfe, the role was particularly meaningful — after years of acting in Scotland, "Belfast" was much closer to home for the Irish actor. "As an Irish person, you read so many of these scripts about the Troubles, and they all have this romantic version of the violence," Balfe told Vanity Fair. "Belfast," she explained, was different.

In fact, Balfe even saw her own family in the script. "Even though this is very much Ken's story, there's a universality to it that allows you to see your own," she told The Scotsman. "I definitely thought of my own mother in playing Ma."

Clearly, Balfe was extremely proud of the film. It was a huge hit and quickly generated awards buzz. However, Balfe remained characteristically humble. "I'm just happy that it's turned out as beautifully as it has and that it's getting the recognition it deserves because it's shot so beautifully and the hard work and heart and soul that went into making it are second to none," she said.

Caitríona Balfe had her first child in 2021

Caitríona Balfe began dating music producer (2) Tony McGill in 2015 (3). The pair married in 2019, and in 2021, they had their first child. Naturally, having a child gave Balfe a new set of priorities. Even though rumors circulated that she'd be nominated for an Oscar for her role in "Belfast," she found her self preoccupied with her new son. "Luckily, I'm doing a lot of that [changing nappies], so I'm actually not thinking about the awards too much: It's more, 'Stop peeing on me!'" she joked to The Guardian.

However, having a child also brought out Balfe's protective side — especially when she found out that a small group of fans online were convinced that her child was actually the product of an imagined affair with her "Outlander" co-star Sam Heughan. "I don't want those crazies — because that's what they are — I just don't want them talking about [my son]," she told Vanity Fair. Apparently, that's why she and McGill have kept their son's name private.

Caitríona Balfe is preparing to say goodbye to Outlander

Mike Marsland / Getty Images

In 2023, Starz announced that "Outlander" would be coming to an end after its eighth season. After the WGA and SAG-AFTRA writer/actor strikes, filming for the final season was delayed. However, Balfe has already begun to mourn the end of the show that gave her her big break.

"Sam and I were doing a video for this season and I started to get emotional already," she told the Express. "It's going to be so weird. It's been such an amazing ride that it's nice to wrap it up while we all still love each other and we are all still feeling like we're making a good show."

Even though "Outlander" may be ending, we can't help but feel that Balfe's career is only just beginning. In fact, she's already set to appear in the film "Amateur" (4) in 2024 alongside Rami Malek, Rachel Brosnahan, and Laurence Fishburne. We can't wait to see what else she does next.

The List

Errors that caught Brian’s attention: (1) Dublin (2) artist/band manager (3) 2014 (4) First paragraph says “The Amateur,” as Malek has and IMDb did. Who knows? 🤷🏻‍♂️ The first promo art will tell us. 🍿

Remember… I walked her to the elevator, and just before the doors closed on her, I said, “Your life is about to change forever.” — Ronald D Moore

Cut & Paste journalism 🤦🏻‍♂️

#Tait rhymes with hat #Good times #The List #15 October 2023

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 11 months

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Hello! I just wanna say your writing is amazing, and I absolutely adore your tmc stories and writing overall it's so good!!!! I was wondering if I could get a continuation of the Adam x gn reader where they found him alongside Thatcher (maybe they drive him to somewhere safe like an inn/motel and care for him. Whether it be cuddling, reassurance, allowing him to vent. Bcuz they just don't mind him being an alternate. Regardless of what he is they care for him and want the best.) I need my boy to feel okay :(

Aw thanks! I'm surprised ya'll wanted continuations for not just one of my Adam fics, but TWO of them. It makes me happy though!

For this one, I imagine Reader finding out how truly difficult helping Adam is gonna be when he starts acting more like an Alternate, but it's a fight they refuse to give up on.

So enjoy <3

Read the first part/prequel here

..........

"Well..here we are. I told the lady we're staying several nights, but my credit card should cover it."

Opening the door to the motel room, you pocketed the key before heading inside to check things out, tossing some bags onto the table.

Adam, in the meantime, stood there awkwardly in the hallway. But after you called his name, he snapped out of his trance and entered--

Only to bump his head on the top of the doorframe and wince in pain, rubbing the spot where it hurt as he scowled at nothing specific.

After everything that's happened tonight, he forgot that his painful metamorphosis and splintering of bones made him a few inches taller...not that he considered it a plus in any way, shape, or form.

If the circumstances were different, he'd probably brag about it to everyone.

Fortunately you didn't notice his mishap, as you were making sure there weren't any TVs or mirrors in the room. Not just for your own safety, but also for Adam's sanity, too.

He couldn't stand seeing his reflection in anything; even the van's rearview mirror made him freak out when he accidentally looked at it, screeching uncontrollably and screwing up the radio's signal until you finally figured out what was wrong and covered it up.

That's the first and only time you nearly crashed the van, thank goodness.

The rest of the drive was uneventful until you found this rundown motel somewhere on the outskirts of Werksha County, deciding it's the safest place to lay low until you both figured out what to do next.

Of all things, you never expected one of your closest friends to be an Alternate--not one who recently killed him and stole his identity, but one who didn't even know what he was until this very night.

Apparently, the "Intruder" revealed that he had replaced his real counterpart at only 4 years old, his mom having been dead this entire time...and deciding that now was the time for him to 'awaken".

Though given how he was crying, screaming, and begging for death when you and Thatcher found him, it's obvious he didn't take that news very well and didn't want to be anything like them.

He lived as a human for so long..he was convinced that he is one and refused to accept his reality.

You couldn't bring yourself to hate him for something he had no control over, nor were you going to ever treat him like one of those monsters.

They were heartless and evil...and while Adam himself acted that way for the past several weeks, pushing away everyone who cared about him, you realized he regretted it deeply. Surely Alternates don't feel things like that.

Eventually you'll have to tell Sarah and Evelin the truth, and also find out where BPS goes from here.

But none of that was important right now.

Taking care of him was.

"Alright. Everything looks good...shit, even the beds look pretty decent. I'm surprised."

Blinking, Adam looked to see you plop down onto one of the beds, laying on your back. "You gotta come over here, man. I promise it's comfier than it looks."

After a bit of silence, you heard some shuffling noises and glanced at him as he limped over to the other bed. He sat down and shrugged off your BPS jacket, using it like a blanket before he curled up on the mattress, resting his head on the pillow and tucking his lanky limbs close to his chest.

In a way, he almost acted like a cat...which was kinda cute.

"Yeah I'm pretty tired, too. You need anything, Adam?" You asked.

All you got was a shake of his head in response, his eyes already closed.

'Right..we both need some sleep. I know he definitely does. We'll figure out some game plan in the morning, then..' You took off your shoes, leaving them on the floor before getting under the sheets and turning off the lamp light.

"Well..goodnight."

He mumbled something, but you assumed was also "goodnight" and eventually fell fast asleep..

Until your short-lived dream turned into a nightmare.

You found yourself standing alone in a dark void, hearing the muffled screams of your friend that sounded so close...and yet so far away. But no matter what, you couldn't find him anywhere, even as you ran and called out his name.

If anything, it felt like you were moving even further away.

Then you were halted by a figure descending from the sky--being that same mysterious angel statue you saw back in the van, except its face was covered by a black square. Its movements, however, were quite lively as it spoke to you in the same voice that claimed itself to be your "intuition".

It whispered that you could not save the "Mandela Prophet" from his destiny, even though what he did tonight was unexpected--implying that he was supposed to harm you.

But it vowed that his "disguise" will eventually shed itself..and when it does you won't be safe anymore.

You refused to believe it, instead asking what it wanted from you.

Its response?

"I want you to open your eyes"

Suddenly you woke up, heart pounding a mile a minute as you looked around the dark motel room. It took a moment to realize you were out of that horrible dream.

But then you ceased all movements as you noticed the time on the alarm clock displayed 3:33 AM in red neon....before seeing a skeletal figure sitting on the edge of your bed, uncomfortably close.

It stared down at you with white pupils rolling around in its eyes, its mouth hung open--stretching to biologically impossible proportions as it spoke in whispers you couldn't decipher, despite its mouth not moving at all.

"A-Adam? That you?"

You bravely turned on the lamp light, rubbing your eyes to see that it was indeed your friend watching over you. His mouth was back in its normal place...although you did see it wide open for a split second after light filled the room before he closed it immediately.

It did give you a mini heart attack, forgetting he was capable of something like that, though you tried acting like you never saw it at all.

"S-Sorry..I didn't mean to wake you up." He apologized, clearing his throat. "I...couldn't sleep. Fuck, how can I?"

"It's alright. I don't think I can either." Sighing, you sat up and smiled reassuringly at him. "We've been through a lot of shit tonight, and-"

"You need to kill me."

Your smile faded as you stared at him, confused when he shoved one of his pillows against your torso. It had stuffing torn out of it, the case covered in blood and saliva.

"What the--?!" You blinked, looking down in horror. "Adam, is this your bl-?!!"

"I tried it and it didn't fucking work...s-so I need you to do it for me. Please." He begged. "I've tried everything else!!"

'Is he...asking me to smother him..? Was he...actually screaming earlier?' Your heart sunk into your stomach at the realization he tried killing himself while you were sleeping, but you shook your head.

"Adam we're not having this conversation again. I can't do that to you, okay? It's not going to work, and even if it did...I just...I can't. If you think I'm okay with straight-up murdering you-"

"Just do it, [y/n]...I-I don't care how long it takes. I don't want to be your burden anymore. I just...I want this to END!!!" He panicked, growing frustrated that you weren't taking the pillow as he now kneeled in front of you, hands trembling. "I'm one of those sick fucks that took your family away! So get revenge! KILL ME!!!"

"But you're not." Your gaze softened, resting your hands over his own. "You didn't kill them. You're my friend-"

"How can you see THIS as a friend-d-d?!!" He wailed, tearing himself away from you as coarse static began to overlay his voice. "This "friend" hurt so many people...Jonah...a-and Evelin...and it's going to hurt you too if you don't stop me!! PLEASE JUST FUCKING END MY SUFFERING-G-G!!!

You desperately tried to calm him down, afraid that someone in the neighboring rooms would hear all of his screaming and howling.

But he didn't stop.

"Shhh! Adam-! Adam, please just-!!"

"STOP IT!! DON'T CALL ME THAT!!! THAT'S NOT MY NAME!! IT WAS NEVER MY NAME!! I lied to you...I DECIEVED you, and you were too stupid to realize it.."

"...h-huh?" You froze, bewildered as his face suddenly became devoid of all emotion, staring dead at your confused expression.

"You stopped that cop from putting a bullet in my head." Tears began streaming down his bony cheeks, his jaw going slack as he spoke. "You're so selfish. You're a coward. Don't you see how horrible you are..keeping me around?! You think I can be saved?! You're only making me SUFFER, [y/n], and it's all your fault!"

You were shocked at the things he was saying to you, wondering if the last of his humanity had finally slipped away...and this is all that remained now.

"A-Adam, please stop-"

"PLEASE STOP! PLEASE STOP! PLEASE STOP! PLEASE STOP!" He began to mimic your voice to near-perfection, hearing hysterical laughter coming from him despite his expression not matching it at all.

You could tell from his eyes alone that he wasn't in total control over himself. He wasn't doing this on purpose.

It was those Alternate instincts trying to override him, attempting to submit you to the symptoms of M.A.D.

Begging him to be quiet was no longer working. You had to try something else...something that would catch him off-guard.

And you finally figured it out.

Taking the pillow, you tossed it aside before gently pulling Adam into your arms, once again being careful not to crush any of his fragile bones. Almost immediately his laughter stopped, his whole body seizing up.

Without the jacket you've previously given him, you could feel how extremely skinny he was, his vertebrae almost poking through his flesh. But it didn't stop you from wrapping your arm around his back, petting his hair soothingly with your other hand.

"...what are you doing-g?" He asked, his voice muffled by your shoulder. "Don't touch me! I-I'm...I will....!"

"You'll what?"

"......."

From the way his entire form gradually went slack in your arms, you realized he was (somewhat) back to his old self, and smiled. "See? You're not hurting me now, and you didn't before. I still trust you, Adam."

He didn't do anything for a few long moments, but just when you were about to let him go, he suddenly hugged you back and fully buried his face into your shoulder, sobbing.

"I'm so sorry, I-I didn't mean to...! I'm sorry, I'm sorry..!!"

"It's okay. I know you didn't mean any of it." You consoled, allowing him to pull you closer to him. As much as he tried, he could barely crush you..considering he had little strength left. "It's okay, we're both okay."

He just shook his head, still devastated that he tried giving you M.A.D and couldn't stop himself. "Th-This is why I wanted you to leave me..b-before I say stupid shit like that and hurt you...."

"C'mon, you've said a lot of "stupid shit" over the years. It's gonna take more than that to drive me away." As you rubbed his bare back, you could feel him nuzzling into your shirt more, desperate for warmth that his own body no longer provided him.

"I-It's so cold. I'm scared, [y/n]...I'm scared of myself." He choked. "None of this feels...real."

"I know. I...can't even imagine what's been going through your head tonight. But you're still my friend, and nothing's gonna change that. Not even this, alright?"

After a few moments of silence he nodded, sniffling. "I'm sorry for putting all of this on you. But....if you have to kill me-"

"Adam."

"R-Right, right...I'm sorry. I won't bring it up again.."

"....we'll figure out something else, okay? And I'll be here for you. Just like always."

Although Adam didn't verbally respond to that, he let go of you and laid down beside you, indicating he wanted to at least attempt to sleep. You were surprised that he didn't just return to his own bed, but you weren't going to be a dick and kick him off.

So you gave him most of the sheets and blankets, knowing he needed them far more than you did. He only mumbled a small "thank you" before turning his back to you, now tucked under the blanket.

You got under the covers as well, switching off the light again, but you heard him still crying softly into the pillow and groaning in pain, clearly trying to hide it from you.

It hurts that you couldn't take away his pain.

The one thing you could do, however, was comfort him..now knowing he wasn't going to push you away like he did before. So you gently put your arm around him, closing some of the space between you two while not being too constricting.

And while he didn't stop crying right away, he eventually quieted down and fell asleep with one less worry on his mind.

You hoped it wasn't too weird--just something to reassure him that you're gonna be right here when he awakened.

It did the trick.

You weren't going to leave him.

Not anytime soon.

#clanask #anonymous #tmc x reader #mandela catalogue x reader #adam murray #adam murray x reader #hurt/comfort #angst #fluff #tw body horror #tw suicide mention

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cynic-view-ahead · 4 months

Text

I wasn't originally planning on writing any of this, but I've read so many wonderful and deeply personal love letters to FFVIII yesterday and today for its 25th anniversary that it kind of emboldened me to.

So here goes I guess, kind of somewhat personal wall of text about a ps1 game, under the cut. You've been warned!

Okay now I don't know how to start. You could say FFVIII came into my life at exactly the right time for me to absolutely imprint on it.

I remember playing the demo that came with a bunch of other demos from a PSN magazine; I'd watched my older brother play a lot of FFVII beforehand and I was enchanted by the story, graphics and characters, the music... Even though my understanding of english at the time was next to mediocre so I relied on him to explain things a lot. I was like... 8 or 9 then so loads of subjects and plot points went completely over my head but it didn't matter at all to me (It was kind of hilarious when I replayed it when I was older because I was like damn, this story is a LOT more convoluted/complicated than I remember wth??? Lmao)

When VIII finally released and I watched my brother play, I was now 10/11 and sometimes he'd play without me so I missed a lot of stuff (and it's rather funny because I remember looking at Squall and co at first and being like whoa, those adults have got their shit together so much and wow how I ever could have looked at Squall and thought that, is beyond me lmao) but when he was done with it I picked it up and played. And sucked. But it stayed with me through my teenage years, never too far.

I was then a lot more fluent in english and literature in general so it pretty much was my first real big 'story-driven' video game ever. I was so damn invested, and, perhaps most of all, I saw myself in Squall so damn much it was borderline uncanny. I think it's so comforting (or alarming depending on how you want to look at it lol) that that seems to be a common thing for all of us die-hard fans. We just 'get it', don't we?

I've... always been a 'weird' kid. That kid other kids somehow know to stay away from, because something is 'off' with them, before they learn how to mock and bully. And I was aware of my 'otherness' as much as them, for as long as I can remember. I never quite fit in, anywhere, no matter how hard I tried. I didn't have a lot of friends, and the very few I had I always kept at arms' length for self-preservation reasons. If I was never vulnerable, if they knew nothing deeper than surface-level stuff about me, they could never hurt me. And this way I wouldn't get too attached, so when they left it wouldn't hurt. Sound familiar?

Admittedly it's safe to assume that I had a somewhat fucked-up childhood (I mean, I wasn't an orphan forced to become a child soldier but still lol) as these behaviours didn't appear out of nowhere, and Squall's inner monologues and way of seeing things just resonated so much with me, I couldn't believe this guy was the hero that saved the day, despite all his traumas and anxiety... But he was. And he did. And his friends cared for him despite it all. And someone fell in love with him, flaws and all. He realized his way of life wasn't sustainable forever and he just... changed. But he wasn't unlovable. He wasn't irredeemable and broken! I cried so much the first time I finished that game. It felt so fucking unfair, I felt like I'd grown and matured right alongside Squall but as the credits rolled and the tv screen turned black I was met with my reflection; alone, in my room. Where were my friends, where was my Rinoa?

I'm an extremely private person. Sharing deep things about myself is extremely difficult for me and twice now I've come this close to erasing the entirety of this post. I have to fight the voice in my head that says this is irrelevant and useless at best, and dangerous to divulge so much personal info at worst. When I talk about personal things, even to the people closest to me, I start shaking and I feel nauseous and cold all over. Even today, right now as I'm typing this!

But this damn video game made me realize that I would never be happy and at peace if I was never honest and vulnerable. Because when you spend years around someone and know loads of things about them yet they know nothing about you, you're not a friend; you're an acquaintance. To love is to give a person the means to hurt you and trust them not to. You have to take that leap.

I eventually found my friends, and my Rinoa; I'm still having trouble trusting and opening up and relying on others but it got better, and it gets better still, and it's in part because of that. one. video game. Ain't that just crazy? A little bit, probably. Who cares.

I feel this wall of text of a post is all over the place and probably TMI but wow good on you for reading through it all lmao. Am I gonna regret posting this in the morning? Most definitely. But hopefully I have the strenght to leave it up. Hopefully someone somewhere can also relate, like I've related so much to all of your posts on this game! Ultimately I am deeply grateful and amazed by this community, we're the black sheeps, the underdogs, the often ill-understood... But I wouldn't want it any other way.

Happy 25th anniversary, Final Fantasy VIII.

#warning: long-ass text post #final fantasy viii #final fantasy 8 #ffviii #ff8 #my shit #happy 25th anniversary ffviii

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vvatchword · 8 months

Text

Slow Drive

Delta couldn’t get in the car. Instead, he walked beside it as Sinclair slowly drove out to the edge of town. Sinclair kept the window down and didn’t speak at first. The Sisters followed alongside, Eleanor sobbing uncontrollably. Every now and then Delta felt her questing thoughts probing at the edges of his mind before she jerked back. The other Sisters didn’t stop her—perhaps there was some sense that he was hers—and this alone rankled.

They could have stopped her, couldn’t they? And they didn’t. They let her just slide into his skull anytime she liked. Not even Cecilia said anything about it, and Cecilia always seemed to read him better than anyone else.

“So, chief,” Sinclair said, somewhere around the ten-minute mark.

Delta bristled, waiting for the inevitable.

“What kind of TV do you watch these days?”

Delta squinted in at him. Sinclair was keeping his eyes on the road. Had he always looked this old? Delta could see a reflection of his face in the glass and tried to gauge his own age. Taut skin, dark hair, no age spots. Thirties, perhaps? He hadn’t aged while he’d been dead. That seemed right.

“Do you watch TV?” Sinclair asked. “Or do you still listen to the radio?”

Delta shrugged. Sinclair took a moment to wave at another driver, who was gaping at Delta without any shame at all. They were so busy gawking that they went over the curb; in a squeal of rubber, they slammed on their brakes and smashed into a post-office box.

“You liked adventure serials, last I remember,” Sinclair said. He snapped his fingers. “You loved adventure films.”

Why had Delta wanted this, again? There was something horrible about having someone with power over you, but the kind where someone knew more about you than you did about yourself was a torture past reckoning! It was true, wasn’t it—that he was just a big kid stuck in this monster body? Maybe it was right that a girl half his age ordered him around.

“You’re lookin’ pretty down in the mouth,” Sinclair said. “Now, honey, I promise you nothing is going to happen outside the pale. All right? No lock-ups. Nothing you don’t ask for. Just a warm meal and a drink and some entertainment. Maybe a smoke. You still like cigars?”

“I’m never free,” Delta said at last. “I never get to go where I want. Even in my dreams I don’t go where I want.”

Sinclair grimaced. “Juan, honey.”

He said it low, so quietly that it could have been lost.

“I’m so tired,” Delta said. “Nobody loves me.”

Sinclair hissed through his teeth. “That’s not true. Why, look at that girl crying over there. She loves you more than life itself.”

“She wants to order me around. She doesn’t listen to me.”

“Well, that’s teenagers for you.” Sinclair laughed. “She’s starting to realize she can make decisions of her own, that’s all. She just doesn’t know where she needs to stop. No, you’re right to put your foot down. You have a right to your own life. You know what your problem is, chief?”

Delta shook his head.

“The problem is that you’re just a big softy. You get thrown into this world outside Rapture and you have to learn all its rules again. You feel off-balance. You deal with it by trying to make everyone your friend. You know how that makes me laugh?”

Delta glanced up, brows knit together. Sinclair was grinning at him like they were sharing a big joke.

“All the best scientists of the world stirred your brain up like a soup, but they couldn’t get rid of you. Back when I knew you, the minute you figured out you couldn’t make friends, you’d run for it. And here you are, over a decade later, running from your problems—like clockwork.”

Delta drooped, rubbed at his face. There was a pressure starting in the back of his mind. The memories were going to come back. He could feel it. He’d end up rocking back and forth in Sinclair’s back yard next.

“Now, what’s sad about that?” Sinclair asked. “I thought it might make you happy to realize you’re not some machine. No, you’re John Barton. You’re a hell of a worker and a good man. Many went through Rapture and came out unspeakable. You went through and became something better. Who else has done it?”

“I killed people,” Delta said. “I’m not better.”

“You had no choice. Better than those of us who did.”

Sinclair’s face had become stern. He was looking in his rearview mirror.

“Looks like ol’ Jack there is going to keep an eye on us,” he said. “Wouldn’t doubt he’s had us all figured out for weeks now. I wonder how long he’s been looking for us.”

“Do you think he’s telling the truth?” Delta asked.

“No reason to doubt him. You two do have the same problem, all things considered.”

“What does he want with me?”

“What’d he ask you for?”

“He wanted to see Tenenbaum. That’s all.”

“Then why go to you, honey?” Sinclair asked gently. “If he needs Brigid, he should go to Brigid.”

“I’m not stupid.” Delta’s hand movements were choppy.

“I’m not saying you are. I’m saying you are a little too eager for friendship, though.”

“I have no friends.”

“Good god, John, that’s an outright lie, and frankly, I’m a bit hurt. Do you not consider me a friend?”

Delta thought about apologizing. He decided not to. Instead, he asked, “Do you think he likes me?”

Sinclair laughed. “Now, what kind of a question is that?”

“He saved me from the police. He knows what it’s like to be me.”

“So does Dr. Porter,” Sinclair said. “And so do I.”

Delta shook his head.

“Dr. Lamb was in my head.” Sinclair’s voice was low again. “She was pulling my strings like a puppeteer. Son, I went through your hell for all of a day, thinking: I may have to live like this for years if he doesn’t knock me down. Before that point, I had never wished for death in my life, but in a matter of hours I was ready to go. All that, and I hadn’t gone through even a tenth of what you did. But hell, son. Hell. When I consider what that does to a man—over weeks, over months, over years.” He took a shuddering breath. “That was your greatest fear, you know. And I’ll never be able to forgive myself for making you live it.”

Delta didn’t dare look at him. He kept his eyes on his feet. What would his old self have felt? He was too frightened to reach back where his memories were. If they started flooding through him again, here on the street… Eleanor would have to touch him again. Eleanor would probably say, “Oh, he has to go home now and sleep in his own bed.”

It did sound nice. To go home, take a shower, go to bed. All of this seemed so pointless. To run away, just to go to Sinclair’s house, where he’d probably sleep on the floor, and Sinclair would talk to him like he was pitiful the whole damn time. Tomorrow he’d probably just go home, and everything would go back to the way it was, and he’d just take it, because of course he would. Who else could love him? Where else would people make a home for him?

It startled him to realize that this was why Sinclair couldn’t love him anymore. His previous self had been a whole person—a person who could speak, who was nice to look at, who knew who he was. But his current self… what was he to Sinclair but a child, an invalid, more dog than a man? Who could love that?

“I’m tired of thinking about it,” Delta said. “I’m tired of people feeling sorry for me. I just want to feel like a person. I don’t. I scare people.”

“That’s my fault, too.” Sinclair’s voice was thick.

“I don’t care.” Delta shook his head. He still didn’t look at Sinclair. “You feeling sorry doesn’t change it. I can’t change it. It happened. I don’t care. I just want to be a person.”

“But you are a person and we can help you. It’s just a matter of time at this point.” Sinclair slapped the side of his car. “And won’t you look at that! Home sweet home.”

Delta jerked his head up. They had pulled into a residential area. A series of brick houses spread out under comfortable old shade trees. Kids were throwing frisbees for their dogs a couple of houses over. The house that Sinclair was talking about was a red-brick affair with a nicely manicured lawn and a door with a stained-glass window.

“Eleanor!” Sinclair said, waving her toward him. “Come here!”

Delta froze as Eleanor, red-eyed, shuffled up to the window.

“Sweetheart, I swear on everything true and good in this world to treat your pops like a gentleman,” he said. “You understand me? I keep him off the street a night, and he gets that guest bedroom all to himself. But, see, I need some help from you to make sure this works out.”

Eleanor’s eyes were swollen and red. She stared at him without expression.

“I need you to get some clean clothes for him,” he said. “Let’s say—two days’ worth. Something for bed, something for daytime. Maybe a toothbrush and a razor and his shampoo, things like that. If you bring that on over, I can make sure he’s comfortable, and you can see how he’s settling in. And don’t you worry. I’ll bring him back as soon as possible, hopefully in better shape than he left.”

Without a word, Eleanor turned away and disappeared in a flash of light. The kids with the frisbees started shouting about it. Equally silent, completely expressionless, the Sisters all turned together and walked back toward town.

“You know, that’s the kind of thing I’d expect to see in a horror film,” Sinclair said, watching the girls troop away.

Sinclair turned into the driveway. Delta wavered for a moment, stuck between following him and turning to follow the girls back to Tenenbaum’s. The kids and their dogs had stopped to watch now. The dogs were alert in an unpleasant way—ears up, rigid-legged, tails swaying side to side slowly.

Delta held his face. Even dogs didn’t like him. Maybe it was Eleanor’s sadness pushing in on him, but he thought he was going to cry next.

“Hey, chief, look at this,” Sinclair said, leaning out of his window. “Come’ere!”

Delta slogged up beside him, leaned down. Sinclair held a little plastic doohickey with a button on it.

“Watch,” he said, and pressed it.

The garage door grumbled and lifted. Delta jumped. He must have made some noise because the dogs started barking.

“I’m living the good life,” Sinclair said, winking at him, and pulled into a spotless garage. “Get in here before you die of heat stroke.”

Delta wished he could tell him it was fine; poison couldn’t kill him, bullets couldn’t kill him, the cold couldn’t kill him, so what was the sun? But without a word, he ducked into the garage. The door closed behind him, cutting out the light and the Sisters, until it closed with a heavy thunk.

~*~*~*~

Sinclair’s home was dark: dark paneled wood walls, dark wine-colored carpet, heavy embroidered curtains draped over the windows. Delta caught sight of a living room set up with an easy chair and a sofa and a nice TV set. Everything smelled like cigarettes. As Sinclair flicked on lights and air conditioner, he headed down the right-hand corridor into an equally dark office, all mahogany and stuffy-looking, with uncomfortable-looking high-backed chairs. Delta eyed them warily from the hallway.

The first thing Sinclair did was sink into his office chair, grab his phone, and call Dr. Tenenbaum. Delta, feeling obnoxiously large, waited at the door.

“Brigid!” Sinclair said. “Found him. Oh, he got all the way to town. I had been out of the car maybe ten minutes when you called… all I did was pull out onto 9th Street and there he was. The man’s athleticism is unreal. Nope. Well, he did have a little run-in with the police, but… well, you won’t believe who he met.” He waited a second. There was complete silence on the other end.

“Jack Wynand,” said Sinclair at last. “Don’t know what he was doing with our boy here, but apparently he wanted to speak with you abou…”

“NO,” Dr. Tenenbaum said.

“All right, good enough,” Sinclair said. “I don’t know what he’s up to, but I don’t feel good about it, either. I thought you said he was a young man?” His brows drew together as Tenenbaum spoke. “That’s not right. He can’t have been a day under sixty.”

A muttering sound.

“He’s still a big guy. I wouldn’t get in a fight with him.” Sinclair drew out his pistol, released the magazine, popped out the bullets one by one, counted them under his breath, loaded the gun again. “Say, John?”

Delta jerked upright.

“Can you do me a favor and grab my holster? It’s right in that drawer across from me. Right there. Thank you, buddy. Sit down, sit down, take the weight off.”

The couch’s legs looked delicate, and the armchairs were too narrow, so Delta sank down on the floor, folding his arms over his knees. He loomed over Sinclair despite simply sitting. He felt so strangely childish.

“My question is this,” Sinclair said, throwing off his jacket. “Do I need to be worried about Mr. Wynand?”

When Tenenbaum spoke, it was quietly, and the rhythm was too even for Delta to make out anything. Sinclair buckled his holster. His smile sank into a frown.

“All right,” he said. “Understood. I just can’t figure what use John would be to him. Might it be to get to Eleanor?”

Delta whipped his eyes up to Sinclair’s. Sinclair was staring straight into his face, eyes solemn. He tucked his pistol under his arm.

“I thought not,” Sinclair said. “Well, thank you. Let me know if anything changes in the night. I sent the girls to get John some overnight clothes.”

Dr. Tenenbaum said something short.

“Doctor, if Eleanor and the girls had gotten there first, I’m afraid John would’ve left with Wynand. Hell, there might’ve been a fight, and frankly, I shudder to think of it. I think I was a fair option.”

Dr. Tenenbaum snapped something.

Sinclair took a deep breath and pressed his fingers against his temple. “Let me make this plain. I won’t take advantage of him. I swear on my dear sweet mother. He’s barely two months out of the suit and he’s like a whole new person; god knows who he’ll be by the third. I aim to spoil him rotten and nothing more. He will stay in the guest bedroom.”

Dr. Tenenbaum started talking. Sinclair listened, lips pressed together. He reached into a drawer and pulled out a carton of cigarettes. He opened it and shook it at John. John took it with a grateful nod and plucked one out. It was so tiny and delicate and soft in his hand.

“I understand. You don’t have to worry about me. If you feel like you have to check up, do. I promise it’s all above-board here at Casa de Sinclair. You don’t have to believe it, but that’ll just give you more worry than it’s worth. Go to bed with a clear conscience. I will.”

Sinclair tucked a cigarette in the corner of his mouth and held out his lighter, the flame snapping into life above it. John lit it and sank back against the wall, one knee drawn up, one leg thrown out. He breathed in; breathed out.

“All right. Give my love to the girls. Reassure Eleanor I’ll be nothing but a gentleman. And don’t forget the man’s toiletries! Bye.”

He shook his head as he slapped the receiver on its cradle. “Good god, Juan. Your lot is going crazy without you. How do you do it?”

Delta paused, staring, before shaking his head.

“They do fine without me,” he signed.

“So you say,” Sinclair said, pushing pencils around on his desk with an idle finger. “Now, look. Brigid says you shouldn’t go out without someone from now on. I tend to agree.”

“I’m not stupid,” Delta said, hands stabbing through the motions.

“Of course you’re not stupid,” Sinclair said. “But you know Mr. Wynand killed several of your coworkers, don’t you? And those were fully kitted out. I doubt he’d hesitate for you.”

Delta growled. “I’d run away.”

“Good thinking. Do not fight him.” Sinclair rapped the table with every word. “Leave. In fact, take it one step further: you see him coming, you just run the other way.”

“What if he’s a friend?” Delta asked. “What if he wants to help?”

“Help with what?” Sinclair asked. “He’s the one who came to you. Now, although I doubt Mr. Wynand there went out today intending to catch you, he clearly wanted to use you in some way, and I’m guessing whatever it was wouldn’t have been very kind.”

“I don’t care,” Delta said. His eyes were burning.

A pencil bounced off of his forehead. He recoiled, only for Sinclair to flip a second one at him. It bounced off of the wall and against the back of his neck. Delta growled, yanked at his sleeve—only to feel the pencil tilt down his collar and slip into his shirt.

“For god’s sakes, don’t be dramatic. You’ve cared every step of the way. I should know.” Sinclair slapped another pencil down on his desk eraser first. “Now I suppose there’s no better time to address the, ah… Big Daddy in the room, as it were.”

Delta snarled and twisted his shirt out of his jeans. Crumbled leaves and dirt sprinkled onto the carpet.

“You clearly have some feelings for me.”

Delta’s breath caught in his throat. He kept his eyes down on his shirt.

“Now as touched as I am—and I will not lie, I am deeply, deeply moved—we were very different people 13 years ago. And even if we hadn’t changed as much as we have, right now is clearly a very sensitive time for you.”

Delta shook his shirt out until bits of hay filled the air.

“Do you know what you look like right now?” Sinclair asked, rising from his desk.

Delta reddened, fabric knotted up in his hands. The pencil plinked onto the floor.

“You look like a new human being every damn day,” said Sinclair. “I had no idea you were going to get this far. None of us did. It’s almost like you’re back.”

Delta smoothed his shirt out, dropping his eyes. The ash was building up on the end of his cigarette until it looked like a closed lotus.

“Tomorrow, you may realize you hate me,” Sinclair said. “I may have to call Eleanor from a payphone on the other side of town because you decided to throw my car at me. And frankly, I wouldn’t put it past you. You know what your last words to me were?” Sinclair slapped his pencil down. “You told me to go fuck myself.”

Delta squeezed his hands into a fist on his knee.

“Son, you’re about to have more ash than cigarette there. Come here, for god’s sakes.” Sinclair pushed an ashtray over the desk.

John tapped off the ash, eyes lowered. In the back of his brain, he could feel an electrical static building.

“Sorry,” he signed.

“I don’t know whether you’re apologizing for the past or for now, and either way, I don’t give a damn,” Sinclair said. “You don’t have to apologize. You’re being honest. You have nothing in you but honesty. It’s like I get to see you in your childhood.”

Delta snarled and shoved himself upright. “I’m not a child.”

“That’s not what I meant. It’s a good thing. It’s you before someone beat all that fear into you.”

“What do you mean? Who beat me?”

“Don’t listen to me. It doesn’t matter.” Sinclair cleared his throat. “I just want you to know that as long as you stay here, my bedroom is off limits, as yours is from me. And you will not try to do anything beyond a handshake, you understand?”

“I’m sorry. I understand.” Delta took a deep drag of his cigarette. He couldn’t take his eyes off of the carpet.

“Again, you don’t have to apologize. You owe me nothing. But you aren’t well yet. You’re nowhere near well yet. I say you rest for a year at least before you start thinking about romance. And given what you’ve gone through, I’ll be frank: maybe it should be two or three or… lord. Five. The longer you wait, the better you’ll feel. Take some advice from an old rake.”

“I’ll go back,” Delta said. His fingers moved listlessly. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t mean that at all. Look at me. Look at me, Juan.”

Delta shook his head. Then he saw Sinclair’s shiny shoes up next to his beat-up sneakers. Sinclair leaned in, stared up into his face.

“I love you, Juan,” Sinclair said softly. “More than you know. But think about it this way. You need some time to understand what you really want. If you move too fast, you’re more likely to make regrets than good memories. All right?” He took Delta’s hand and clapped it between his. “Worry about recovering. Wait for Tenenbaum to collect the ADAM we need for your procedure. Learn a little about yourself.”

“Is Eleanor going to be safe?” Delta asked. He felt like his arms and hands were moving through syrup. “Should I go back?”

“Is Eleanor going… good god, honey, she nearly took the whole damn house off its foundation this afternoon,” Sinclair said. “There are 12 other Big Sisters at that house, all just as powerful as she is. I don’t like it that Wynand’s here, but I’d like to see him try and cause trouble with a house full of Supergirls. No, if there’s anyone in trouble here, it’s you.”

Delta closed his eyes. He had to go home. It was the right thing to do. The whole house full of Sisters and an enemy skulking around the perimeter! And at the same time, he couldn’t seem to move his legs.

“You okay there, chief?” Sinclair asked.

Delta shook his head, blew out a cloud of smoke, watched the patterns shift and dissipate.

“I’m glad you’re here. Do you understand? I’m pleased as punch. It doesn’t even seem real that we’re underneath the same roof again. Hell, forget about me—I think you might benefit by getting out of the house a while. Think of it as a vacation—a little time to recoup. Now come on. There’s a case of beer with your name on it and a night full of the world’s most rotten television.” Sinclair rose, throwing his jacket over his arm. “As for me, I’m going to make a roast beef sandwich. How about it? I’ve got fresh bread. As the kids today say—it’ll blow your mind.”

~*~*~*~

Delta’s bedroom was clearly not meant for someone his size. The bed was too small, the ceiling too low. If he turned on the fan and stood up, he’d get whacked in the forehead. His stomach sank. Was this the plan? To make him capitulate through discomfort?

“I don’t think I thought this through,” Sinclair said, clucking with displeasure. “Perhaps if we get the mattress on the floor of the den and lay the couch cushions at one end? That might be nice. Much roomier in there, in any case. And you can turn the television on in the morning and watch it in bed.” He winked. “Very cozy.”

“But I can’t keep you out of the living room,” Delta signed nervously.

“Oh, I won’t need to go in there past ten,” Sinclair said. “You’ll be snug as a bug in a rug, as my grandmother would say. Ah, son, cheer up!” He slapped him on the shoulder. “I can’t stand you lookin’ so sad. How many times were you making these faces under that helmet? I can’t stand the thought.”

Delta felt at his cheeks. He felt strangely naked all of a sudden. He wanted his suit again. He wanted his helmet.

“What are you feeling for up there?” Sinclair asked.

Delta shook his head. “I should go home.”

“You are home, honey.” Sinclair set a hand on his wrist. “Can you do me a favor, though?”

“Sure.”

“Can you drag the mattress yourself? I hate to ask you, but this leg makes everything a trial.”

“It’s no problem.” Delta leaned down into the bedroom, flipped on the light.

For a second, he saw the flash of a human shadow against the window. He started. Just as suddenly, he felt silly; he was seeing his own shadow thrown up against the blinds. No one could see in. Why would they want to, anyway?

“What is it, honey?” Sinclair asked.

“Nothing,” Delta said. “Bad thought.”

“You’ve been doin’ better, I thought.”

Delta was startled to realize the memories had settled back down. Was that all he had to do? Get upset and run to town? Maybe they would come back in the night.

Try not to think about it. Thinking about it will make it worse.

“Do you remember how to play gin rummy?” Sinclair asked as Delta lifted the mattress.

“I don’t know.” Delta pushed it on its side, leaned over almost double.

Sinclair sidled out of the way. “Well, we’ll bring out cards and see if you do. If you can’t remember it, well. We’ll just teach you again. Meanwhile, we’ll get you another cigarette, eh?”

Delta looked at his hands pressed against the mattress. God, they were huge.

“When will they get enough ADAM for me?” he asked.

“I’m afraid I don’t know. We’d have to ask Dr. Tenenbaum that.”

“When I go crazy,” Delta said, “what will you do to me?”

Sinclair paused. “Let’s not think about that right now, honey. Besides. You’re doin’ great. Much better than we ever thought you would!”

“Something’s wrong with me,” Delta said. “I can’t think. It’s better, but it’s… worse. It should be faster.”

“You’re worried, that’s all. You haven’t been away from Eleanor this long and you did just have a fight with her. Come on, let’s get you settled down. I’ll get you a beer.”

Delta was about to ask if he thought Eleanor would forgive him when it struck him suddenly: if he wanted Sinclair not to think of him as a child, he should stop acting like one. He sounded like a child, didn’t he? Complaining all the time?

At first, he resolved to stop flapping his fingers so goddamn much. But the thought of shutting up filled him with a loneliness so complete it was a physical ache. Suddenly he completely understood Eleanor’s hatred of Sinclair. It was all his fault! It was all his fault he was like this! In the memories, he had been holding full conversations, jumping from subject to subject with ease! Even his terror in front of the whipping-man had been something—pure, almost. Since waking up, he couldn’t remember feeling anything that strongly except for his love for Eleanor and the power of his anger, and even then, both feelings made him feel tired, like there was such a frantic need to feel anything at all that he clung to them overlong.

The sheer level of work and uncertainty ahead of him squashed him so suddenly that he burst into tears. Horrified, he mashed his face into his opposite shoulder, rubbing his eyes so hard that fireworks went off behind his eyelids. But the tears wouldn’t stop, nor would the awful choking sounds. He couldn’t help it. Oh, of course he’d start crying here! Right in front of Sinclair!

Sinclair had started patting him on the shoulder.

“Shhh. Come on, John. Just get that bed all laid out so you can lie still a while.”

Delta shook his head over and over. “I didn’t mean to!” he said. “I’m sorry!” He mashed his cheeks against his shoulders, one after the other.

“You’ve had a rough day. Hell, a rough few months. You’ve cried before this; don’t worry about it.”

“I don’t remember!”

“Don’t worry about it,” Sinclair said, slapping him on the back. “Look, you have plenty of very good reasons to cry, don’t you?”

Delta flung the mattress on the living room floor.

“I hate being like this!” he said. “I shouldn’t be like this! Like a baby! Giant and stupid!”

“I won’t have you insulting yourself,” Sinclair said softly. “You’re not stupid and you’re not a child. It’s just that right now it seems like too much. That’s fine. Look. Even if you could have been reverted in one go—why, look at Dr. Porter. It took him months to get to the point he’s at now. Hell, it’s taken me months just to be able to hobble around. And Dr. Porter had to deal with brain trauma on top of all of it, which, I’m told, makes the situation particularly heinous. Dr. Porter was the Alpha series right before me, wasn’t he? Second to last ever made?” Sinclair turned Delta’s chin down. “The process was standard by then, honey. He didn’t have half as much done to him as you did. You were in the pipeline for years. Not days, not weeks, not months. Years. It will take you more time to get better than either of us. And anyone who’s worth half a damn will give you that time. Do you understand me?”

“But what if I never get better?” Delta asked. “What if I’m like this forever?”

Sinclair’s hand clamped down on Delta’s wrist. His voice rose.

“Then they will give you that time,” Sinclair said, enunciating each word. “Anyone who matters will give you that godforsaken time. Do you hear me? Show me you understand.”

Delta nodded. His hand was pressed over his eyes.

“Good.” Sinclair slapped him on the shoulder. “You’ll feel better if you’re clean. Come on. You’ll fit best in the master bath.”

Delta followed along, rubbing his sleeve under his nose. The fear and shame was drifting away. In its place was an aching emptiness.

I want to be worthy, he thought.

Worthy of being a man. Worthy of being respected. Worthy of being wanted. Worthy of being loved.

UPRISING: BLACK SCRAPBOOK HUB

#bioshock #bioshock 2 #subject delta #augustus sinclair #eleanor lamb #topclair #vvatchword #long brown evening #I'll be honest at this point I'm just posting these because darksahia is into them #anyway enjoy #or don't

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drunkewok · 9 months

Text

Tiger Inside

Chapter Fifteen

Stray Kids Mafia (ongoing)

Masterlist

Likes, reblogs and feedback always greatly appreciated

WC: 3.1k

Pairing: Lee Know x reader

Genre: Series, Enemies to lovers, non-idol AU, Mafia AU

Synopsis: After years spent away from the family, two strangers start frequenting your place of work, only to bring daunting news. Flung back into the world of the mafia, you try to adapt to your new normal and work alongside a team of eight skilled members to uncover a mystery and take down an unknown enemy.

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, drinking, swearing, violence, weapons

Disclaimer: Any portrayal of Stray Kids or any other idols in this story is purely fiction and does not at all reflect their own personalities or how I view them as a person, it is purely for the sake of the story.

Please do not copy or repost my work

I pulled myself up from the confines of my bed, my limbs aching from my long sparring session with Minho the night prior. My time spent with him helped grow my confidence in my ability to perform tomorrow, but at the steep cost of weak muscles.

Sliding onto the floor, I spread my legs out and stretched my hands forward toward my feet, the pull of my muscles creating a contradicting blend of pain and relief. I rolled my head on my shoulders before collapsing back against the side of my bed, my head falling against the mattress as my eyes gazed up to the ceiling.

The reality of the situation was sinking in, up until this point I still hadn't felt like a true member of the team, but tomorrow granted me the opportunity to prove myself as worthy of working alongside these boys. I needed to ignore the voice in the back of my head, telling myself of my inability to perform.

The unknown of tomorrow was looming, we had no way of predicting if anyone would be standing watch, seeing our every move. We were unwelcome visitors in a discreet and elaborate operation, if they had evaded detection up until now, who knows what else they had up their sleeves.

Minho was thorough with last night's training, focusing on specific self defense in the event I was caught without a weapon. His sharp agility gave me an insight to an opponent's skills that I hadn't had the opportunity to go up against yet. The absence of his snark allowing him to go strictly business, his focus pointed and determined.

He had felt like a drill sergeant, demanding the repetition of blocks and attacks until they were ingrained into my memory like a carving on stone, his façade only dropping every time he lifted me back to my feet after sweeping my legs out from under me. I was sure bruises were going to be peppering my skin any day now, a water coloring blend of colors across every limb. I attempted to pull each arm across my chest, trying to further stretch my abused muscles. Dropping my hands to my knees, I took a deep breath with a huff, pulling myself to my feet with a groan.

Slipping into the living room, I dropped myself onto the couch beside Jisung, watching him engrossed in a video game across the screen of the TV. After multiple failed attempts to beat his current boss, he fell back in defeat, hollering out into the room leaving echoes down the hall.

“Let me give it a try” I choked out through my amused laughter, my hands reaching out and grabbing for the controller. He side eyed me in silence before reluctantly handing it over, letting me pull my legs up onto the couch and crossing them beneath me and getting comfortable before selecting the large Try Again plastered on the screen.

My knuckles turned white as I gripped the controller for dear life, my heart rate spiking with every blast from the enemy while I tried to pull the character to the side with a dodge. Jisung yelled orders at me from the side, I attempted to shut him out, my focus strictly pointed on the mission at hand.

“DODGE! DODGE! HE’S COMING FROM THE RIGHT!” He squealed, his aggressive stressed squirming beside me throwing me off as he flung himself to the side dramatically and tried to cover his eyes.

“YAH! Can you shut up please!?” I pulled one of my legs out from under me, attempting to kick him with no avail as I avoided pulling my eyes from the screen. “Do you want me to get you past this level or not?” Jisung whimpered as he pulled a pillow across his chest and clung to it, finally going quiet as his eyes flicked across the screen, watching the enemy's hearts slowly start to diminish.

With a final concentrated shot the boss fell to the ground with a crash, an exhale of the breath that I was unaware was lodged in my chest released as I threw my hands in the air in victory.

“I’ve been working on him for days… How were you able to get him in one try?” Jisung stared at the screen with drooping shoulders in defeat.

“If you were quieter I could have beat him faster.” I took a pillow, smacking him in the arm with it, triggering a yelling match between the two of us that was quickly interrupted by an abrupt dropping of a binder in my lap.

I looked up, my eyes meeting Minho standing above me before he dropped on the couch adjacent to ours. Jisung and I quickly fell silent as I stared down to the binder, then back up to Minho in confusion.

“And what might this be?” I slowly opened the binder, finding photos with elaborate profiles connecting to each person.

“It’s Ateez. We don’t know who we might be up against tomorrow, and with your two unknown interactions with them already Chan asked me to get you familiar with their members.” Minho responded flatly as his eyes left mine and flicked down to the binder, instructing me to look at it.

The first page held a grainy, unfocused picture. Yet I quickly recognized the face, the features of the man who sat across from me at the club showing clearly through the poor quality photo. The name Park Seonghwa sat below it, followed by multiple bullet points leaning me to realize he was Ateez’s equivalent of Minho, a master of many skills.

Flipping to the next page, another equally poor quality photo sat at the top, another recognizable face with the name Jeong Yunho below it. I quickly flipped through the other pages, realizing every photo was terribly taken. I let the pages fall back on Yunho before glancing up to Minho through my lashes with a raised brow.

“You expect me to identify them with these photos? You hire some crappy P.I. to take these or something?”

“I took them myself.” Minho leaned back with crossed arms, his face scrunching in irritation. “Not like I can just google them and have an abundance of their photos or anything.” Jisung snorted beside me as he stifled a laugh, Minho’s eyes quickly darting to him in a sharp glare, shutting him up immediately. Minho gave him a sarcastic, mocking laugh before turning back to me again and nodding to the binder. “Listen, it’s the best I’ve got for you, okay?” With a roll of the eyes I studied the words below Yunho’s name, similar bullet points in a list like Seonghwa's detailing his features, height, and skills.

Damn, he’s tall.

“You really put a lot of thought into making this, how long did this even take you?” I couldn’t help but let out a slight amused chuckle, imagining Minho putting together the documents only to print them and organize them carefully into a binder for my lesson.

“That’s besides the point, just focus on learning their faces and names.” Minho pointed toward the binder, urging me to continue.

“Okay, driver and data analyst. So he’s kind of like Felix?” With a nod of the head, Minho’s hand came up and gestured for me to flip to the next member. The man in the photo had dark hair, a subtle wave to it as his bangs sat across his forehead. His facial features were soft, in the photo he seemed to be mid conversation with someone, a slight smirk across his face. His initial appearance seeming un-intimidating until your focus is pulled by discreetly hidden toned and strong arms poking out from the sleeves of his shirt. “Kang Yeosang?”

“Don’t let him fool you.” Minho leaned forward, settling his elbows upon his knees and nodding to the photo. “Expertly skilled in hand to hand combat.” His eyes met mine sternly. “If you encounter him, I want you to keep your distance. Focus on his every move, his goal is to get you in close proximity to give him the advantage.” I studied the photo once more as I lifted my brows and nodded in response.

The next page presented a member that stood strong, chiseled features and wide shoulders accompanied by a miniscule waist.

“How is it that Choi San is somehow built like a dorito with muscles?” My fingers lightly held the corner of the page as my eyes continued scanning it, seeing the title of assassin directly below his name.

“I don’t suggest taking a bite out of that one, he bites back.” Jisung piped up, side eyeing the page beside him. With a snicker Minho tried to hide his laughter before immediately composing himself once more.

“Another one I want you to keep your distance from, even farther than Yeosang. He can get you in hand to hand and weaponry. The guy is discreet and quick, he’ll get to you before you even realize he’s there, and he’ll take you down in complete silence.” I cringed slightly, taking note that he was one I needed to stay alert of. My eyes squinted at the next photo, each one still difficult to fully see each member. This next one was another tall member, a more gruff member, his face with a few scars.

“There isn’t really a title under Song Mingi, why is that?” My brows creased together, looking up to Minho in confusion.

“He’s an absolute wild card, there’s no predicting that one. He can act impulsively, not a single care when it comes to using more extreme measures. We pride ourselves in avoiding death when possible, but I’ve watched the guy explode a car with men inside. Don’t underestimate him, and don’t assume he’s worried about going the full nine yards.” I was taken aback at the thought of the car engulfed in flames, I quickly flipped the page, a bit unnerved by Mingi.

The face on the next page appeared like he may be one of the younger ones of the bunch, his photo looked like it was taken at the same time as Yeosang’s, possibly the one who he was speaking to. A bit smaller in stature and a bit softer in appearance, looking at the bullets, it appeared that Jung Wooyoung was more of a con-man type, skilled in tricking those around him with a crisp sleight of hand. Choi Jongho was their medic, I squinted at the grainy photo, he wore a tight black button up that framed his strong hidden frame.

One final page remained, flipping to it, a face felt like it was staring directly back into the camera as though the subject had pinpointed Minho’s presence when he attempted to take his photo. One eye was hidden behind an eyepatch, the other glaring deeply into my soul. His aura radiated darkness around him and sent a chill down my spine, before I could read past the photo Minho spoke up again.

“Kim Hongjoong.” I looked back up to him, his eyes pointed directly on the photo before me. “I know we’ve spoken a little of him already, but he’s their leader. Strict, and easy to go off the rails when angry. Honestly if we come across the group, your chances of interacting with him are fairly low, he tends to lead from a distance. But don’t let that fool you, he’ll always still be close on your tail, you just won’t be aware of his location.” Minho finally leaned back into the couch once more, now looking up to me as I flipped back through the binder, attempting to re-study each of their grainy faces. “They’re not a group to take lightly, they mean business and will go to extremes to get what they want.”

“Do they not have any snipers? For the most part, I see the majority of their members can correlate with one of us, but I don’t really see any long range skills here.” I studied the bullets below each member carefully, searching for any sign of their possible sneaky gunman.

“They don’t have a designated one, no. But when they’re in need of it, they commonly put Seonghwa or Jongho in the position. It can give us an advantage when they’re unaware that we have Hyunjin and Jisung planted.” Minho’s fingers drummed on his knee as he crossed one ankle over his leg, relaxing back into the cushions of the couch.

“Yeah I had an unpleasant interaction with Jongho one time.” My head turns in Jisung’s direction, his hand scratching on the back of his neck with a crooked smile. “He found me on top of a building once when he was trying to post up, it was my first time actually seeing him face to face to be honest, he’s usually in the shadows.” With a hum and a nod I closed the binder, setting it on the table in front of us.

“So this is who we think we might be up against tomorrow?” I leaned back, crossing my legs and settling my hands in my lap as I repeated each member of Ateez in my mind, trying to drill in their facts into my brain.

“It’s a very strong possibility, yes. If not tomorrow, at some point we will." With a slight side nod, Minho looked as though he was briefly lost in thought as he studied the floor. Sometimes I find myself curious about what was going on in his strange mind, but that was a bridge to cross for another time, I wasn't sure if I was quite ready to open that barrel of monkeys.

My fingers gently ran across my bottom lip as I thought through each person, and the possibilities of combat with them. I felt like Yeosang and San would be my biggest worry, although the thought of being face to face with Seonghwa again sent chills down my spine. On the other hand, we’ve got wild card Mingi, who knew what kind of impulsive choices he might make in the heat of a battle.

“Don’t overthink it too much, you can take these guys no problem. You just needed to know each of their strengths so you can have that ability.” I’m snapped from my thoughts as Minho spoke up, slightly surprised by his positive reinforcement for once.

“Well thank you, hopefully your shitty photography can provide me with enough context of their appearances.” My hand settled on his knee as I looked up to him with pleading eyes “But for the love of god, don’t become a photographer, you suck.” I left him with a cheeky smile as he rolled his eyes back into his skull.

“Ha ha, you’re very funny.” He shrugged me off as he stood. “Last time I ever give you a compliment.” He grumbled under his breath. Jisung chuckled beside me as Minho made his way into the kitchen.

“Listen, all I’m saying is you’re much better at your current job, I’m just saying stick with it.” I chuckled as I fell back into the couch, picking up the binder once more and flipping through the pages.

“Is that your weird way of complimenting me back?” Minho glanced over his shoulder to me, a slightly amused, yet confused smirk on his face as I looked back at him with a cheesy smile.

“Com’on Hyung, if you had become a photographer instead you couldn’t be blessed with our presence every day!” Jisung spread his arms out wide with a cheeky grin, clearly proud of his statement. Minho and I slowly turned to Jisung with quizzical looks, the three of us sitting in silence staring at each other for a moment before breaking into laughter.

“Blessed, cursed, same difference.” Minho shrugged with a subtle grin as he grabbed a glass from the cabinet, filling it with water before leaning against the counter and raising the glass to his lips. I leaned my arm over the back of the couch, looking back to Minho as I tilted my head.

“But now that I think about it, how did you even get into all of this?” Silence fell on the trio once more, Jisung quietly clearing his throat in the background as the air grew tense and thick. Minho looked into the glass as he swirled the remaining liquid around.

“It’s a long story, you don’t need to be bothered with it.” He took another swig before setting it on the counter and leaving to go upstairs in silence. I glanced back to Jisung, who sat uncomfortable with the exchange that just occurred.

“What just happened? Did I cross a line?” Staring at Jisung in confusion, I rubbed my fingers against the inside of my palm, my lips scrunching in embarrassment.

“It’s a sore spot for him, honestly best not to ask, he doesn’t really like talking about it.” I found myself glancing down the hall towards the stairs, my intentions weren’t to offend him, unaware of the rough topic. I bit the inside of my cheek, feeling guilty that I seemed to have ruined a rare positive moment with Minho. “All of us have our stories of how we ended up here, but we all kind of try to forget the period before we had each other. Minho has withheld quite a bit of details of his past from most of the members, Chan and I are the only ones who know his full story”

“Well don’t let me pry any further… I-I’m sorry for even bringing it up” I sank into the cushions of the couch once more, my eyes scanning different spots on the floor as a method of distraction as my thoughts jumped through so many questions.

“There’s no reason to apologize, you had no idea.” Jisung reached forward, grabbing the controller off the coffee table and switching over to a multiplayer game. “Let’s just play some more, try not to think about it too much. He’s fine, he’s not mad at you, don’t worry.”

I quietly nodded as I took the secondary controller as he handed it to me. As he started up the game I couldn’t help but let my thoughts wander, what could’ve been so bad that Minho doesn’t want to talk about it at all? What led up to him getting involved with SKZ in the first place? I bit my lip as the game booted up, Jisung hitting the start button and triggering it to begin, granting me the needed distraction from what just happened.

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