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the-maddened-hatter · 1 year ago

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Some Hazbin Hotel death symbolism theories/headcanons

So yeah this is gonna be darker since the show literally revolves around characters in hell

Tw for drugs, suicide, murder, cannibalism, mentions of racism & and idk what to call it like in-character cultural insensitivity (if anyone knows how to tag that better lmk) , and various forms of abuse under the read more

Also I know these will probably get disproven within like 5 minutes once the show comes out, but I think they'd still be cool for an AU or something!

Vaggie: I'm gonna start out with a potentially controversial theory here: Her death X eye could be more symbolic than literal, with her choosing to "turn a blind eye" to something in life that eventually lead to her committing suicide out of guilt, and her moth features symbolizing her having been focused on a certain goal or priority to a selfish or harmful degree in life like a "moth to a flame". Putting these together, maybe she allowed something to happen either to someone directly or in such a way that they ended up being harmed/killed in the pursuit of a goal or belief and once she realized the scope of her actions she committed suicide. Maybe once she's in hell she's all but forced into a career of a bodyguard for the ruling families of hell as some kind of ironic punishment (though in her particular case it ends up working out well for her since she and Charlie fall in love)

Since her moth features are much less pronounced than Valentino, perhaps it serves as a reflection of how she realized the harm her selfish focus caused before she died.

Speaking of him, Valentino's highly pronounced moth features could suggest that his selfish focuses were much worse and more self-serving than Vaggie's were (unsurprising given his character) and his addictive smoke powers could mean he died in a fire (my theory is he went into a club that he ran during a fire to retrieve a stache of money and drugs he had hidden inside and perished due to smoke inhalation (meaning he 1 has no visible death x, 2 has a death x on his chest that we haven't seen yet, or 3 his death x shows up sometimes in the red smoke he breathes).

I wrote a fanfiction about a headcanon for Sir Pentious's backstory But the main takeaways from it are I think that he worked with poisons, became paralyzed prior to his death by them, his drug addicted son killed him in a fit of withdrawls with a shattered vial of snake venom, his death X is on his chest where he was stabbed and is hidden by a large fake eye that he wears over it. The other eyes across his body are because he became paranoid after becoming paralyzed. He knows his son went to hell along with him so he's continually searching for him, but doesn't realize that his daughter did as well several years later.

With Niffty, I theorize that her mother died when she was relatively young and she was expected by her male relatives to take up the duties of a housewife and surrender any degree of ambition she may have held about school or a career (even those that fell within the limitations of the time period). Her one hope was that if she was able to get married she'd at least be able to have some degree of freedom from her abusive controlling relatives. Given as many housewives commonly used stimulants that would be considered dangerous and illegal today to increase their productivity and lessen their desires to eat, it's hardly a stretch to think that Niffty would have tried (or been pressured into trying) them as well. It's my belief that she died due to a heart condition that was made much worse by taking the stimulants and her death X is over her heart (and this is why she has speed related abilities). Her large cyclopic eye could be symbolic of her feeling like she constantly needed to be vigilant while still being aware that there were things she wasn't getting to see in life Perhaps her small size is due to her being younger when she died (roughly 18 to 20) and that her death name is taken from the brand of the stimulants.

With Cherri Bomb her cyclopic eye that is functional despite the X may be because she, like Vaggie, chose to allow people to be harmed when she had the power to stop it, but her connection to it was less direct than Vaggie's was (perhaps she created weaponry for an extremist organization, but she didn't realize civilians would be harmed). Within this theory, she may have died sabotaging the organization, perhaps blowing up a bomb within their headquarters o unsuccessfully attempting to dismantle one on the civilian site (with her cause of death being the shrapnel impaling her). She is not ashamed of her death X, and chooses to wear clothing that implies its location.

I headcanon Vox as having been a corrupt journalist in life, overlooked due to a severe stutter in childhood and left with something to prove, he was willing to write false (but convincing) news reports for people about their competitors (ranging from small-scale businesses to political candidates) and come up with convincing doctored photographs. He wanted to quit the lifestyle and settle down with a lady he had convinced to be his fiance (she didn't really love him, but she had a daughter to care for and he genuinely cared for the both of them), so he accepted "one last job" that he believed would leave him with enough to live comfortably in anonymity. The job ended up being a set-up by someone he had previously wronged or their friends/family and was drugged, beaten, and left for dead in an alley. In his final moments he weakly tried to call attention to himself but was unable to get anyone to notice him due to a display window full of new televisions drawing a crowd and drowning out his pleas for their notice.

He has no visible death X due to dying of internal bleeding, but he still bears marks of his death with his eyes always appearing mismatched from three red lines that frequently appear in the lower left corner serve as his marker no matter how often he changes his features. Deeply saddened he was unable to be a father to his fiancee's daughter back in life, he views Velvet as an adoptive daughter. He waited hopefully for many years to see either of them again and his both relived and distraught that they seem to avoided hell.

With Alastor I'm like 99.99% certain this is already fully incorrect, but fuck it this is a headcanon post (also this one is long bc unlike Sir P I didn't get around to writing out the fic before now: Conceived through wealthy white man's abuse of a cook he employed who was of mixed race, meaning her abuser was fully unpunished for his crimes. Though unmarried and in poor health, she kept Alastor, viewing him as proof and hoping he would one day deliver vengeance upon the people who wronged her. He grew up in the care of his ailing mother who, sadly viewed him more as her poised dagger than as her son, and his grandmother who loved him dearly, but lived primarily in her own memories and passed away by the time he was 10 years old. Before she died would tell him lengthy stories about the family he'd never gotten a chance to meet and he would listen, enraptured by the rich tapestries of lineage she described, with his favorite stories being the ones about the Native American man who had been in love with her father's mother, and, she suspected, was well more than just a friend of the family. She didn't know much about the man, but that only served to fuel Alastor's imagination.

Though he hated the man who had given it to him, his lighter skin brought him advantages that were not typical to those in his situation, the most prominent being that he was able gain employment at a rather prominent local radio station in the next town over, and, given time, talent, poor studio lighting, and a false last name, work his way onto the airwaves. He put up with a lot during those long years, forcing himself to stay silent and keep a smiling face through his bosses & colleagues flippant racism, promising himself that it would be worth it one day and that hey'd be "singing a different tune" once he'd worked his way up to the top. He was right, but not in any of the ways he ever expected to be.

Short version, he was found out and fired (despite a degree of public outcry, as his program was quite popular) and he found himself unemployed and, one night, drinking alone. His mother had passed away of a violent seizure a month ago to the day and he was drowning his shames of failure in both his career and of her (she'd had her high expectations of him clear from the moment he was born).

Another man came into the bar, small, tan, scruffy, limping, with some tattoos visible. He hobbled over to the bar stool next to Alastor and with evident glee recognized his voice from the radio and with a bit more effusive praise dolled out between the pours of liquor they became the fastest of friends. When the bar shut its doors, well why didn't they continue their lively chat in Alastor's kitchen? Neither of them had anyone waiting for them at home or much business to attend to in the morning. So that was precisely what they did.

Though he tried his best, Alastor could not seem to pronounce the young man's name. It sounded to him almost like the gecker of a fox (though he blamed this on the copias amounts of bourbon swimming in his brain), and after his third slurred attempt the young man waived his apologies away and said to call him Shilo.

Shilo proved to be a very good listener that evening and, as it happened, in the coming weeks. Most would have balked at the rantings and declarations of vengeance of a total stanger, but not him. He followed each word earnestly, soaking everything in until he was finally ready to make his move.

It was truly such a shame Alastor knew so little about his lineage and about his great grandfather's culture, perhaps he wouldn't have so readily accepted Shilo's claims that he could be granted power, vengeance, and justice through a "dark magic ritual". Maybe if his mother had seen him as someone to love instead of something made to avenge her he would have been harder to talk him into performing 7 so-called "rituals" of murder and cannibalism. Who's to say? End the end the decisions were his own.

He chose people adjacent to his mother's abuser (Shilo was clear on this point, that he mustn't yet strike his target directly, that the ritual was about "absorbing the lights in his life to let you see beyond and leave him blind in the dark". Alastor took down

His uncle (his father's brother) first (a horrid man who, in Alastor's defence, reached for his pistol solely in response to his approaching him)

The house's head butler who had turned out Alastor's mother for "causing trouble",

His own half-brother (he took more pleasure in this than he cares to admit even now, knowing so little and so much separated their respective fates)

His half-brother's fiancee, as she became a convenient next victim

His father's bank broker

His father's chauffeur (for suspecting and confronting him).

And finally, the cook who replaced his mother. That's where things went wrong.

Shilo instructed Alastor to take the body of the victim into the woods once night had fallen, and he complied as he had each time before, but this time as he ate he became overwrought with the guilt of what he'd done, to murder someone fully innocent, whose position was nearly identical to his own mother's all of those years ago.

Shilo was furious when Alastor began to plead to back out of the ritual, insisting that he could well have his vengeance for it all, that once he slit his throat with the so-called ceremonial blade of bone he would awake a spirit of vengence, brimming with all of the power of his ancestors. He tried to press said blade into Alastor's bloody and shaking hands, but he swatted it away as waves of bile doubled him over and he purged most of his night's kill from his stomach.

Alastor watched Shilo's easygoing facade melting away along with his human form, morphing into a snarling canine with a mouth of sharp fangs that dribbled bloody foam. Interwoven between the creature's rage filled huffs and undercurrent of a fox's chitter slipped the words "Oh, Al. You really shouldn't have done that."

He ran for hours through the forest. Shilo, or whatever called itself that anyhow, kept pace at his heels, sometimes overtaking him and ripping away a fresh chunk of flesh or snapping a bone with its massive jaws before falling back to keep the chase going.

Horrifically bloodied and mutilated but somehow still moving he eventually managed to attract the attention of some hunters, who seemingly managed to scare off his pursuer with a few warning shots. Needless to say, Alastor collapsed the moment the beast was no longer on his heels.

One could argue that they meant well, doing what they did. He was very plainly in agony, with his neck and limbs lolling grotesquely, and they really could do virtually nothing to care for him. He wouldn't even let them touch him to try and staunch the bleeding (though for pain or delirium they couldn't tell), doing his best to strike out with a broken appendage or, when one of them tried to at least stabilize his neck with a folded coat, bit down on his would-be-healer's arm and kept locked on until he lost the strength to continue.

He regained a bit of sense for those last few seconds. He saw that horrible beast's wicked eyes and gleaming teeth lurking in the edges of the firelight and he saw one of the hunters kneeling beside him and promising it would be quick and everything would be over in just a moment as he readied his handgun.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel fan theory #fan theory #hazbin vaggie #hazbin valentino #hazbin sir pentious #hazbin niffty #hazbin cherri bomb #hazbin vox #hazbin alastor #cw drugs #cw horror #cw abuse #(idk how much I need to tag in the tags since I did a cw at the beginning with a read more but lmk if I need to)

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pet-genius · 4 years ago

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A complex and many-layered thing

But Harry’s anger at Snape continued to pound through his veins like venom. Let go of his anger? He could as easily detach his legs. . . .

This is the first Occlumency lesson. Harry is right, of course. Feelings don’t go away because you want them to. To let go of them when they’ve not been addressed or validated can be as hard as detaching a leg. And yet, it’s what Dumbledore asked Snape to do, and it’s what Snape had to do to survive the first war as Dumbledore’s spy. You have to ask yourself… how?

Trapped animals chew off their own legs to escape. It’s a sacrifice they make to survive.

If there’s one thing in a fic that turns me off it, it’s the idea that Occlumency shields are a thing, that Severus was so gifted at it because he’s got some power like Second Sight or being a metamorphagus. I always preferred to think of Occlumency and Legilimency as skills that can be learned, even if some have more aptitude for it than others.

Severus entered Hogwarts with the kind of life experience that primed him for developing these skills, and left it with even more. Occlumency is magical dissociation, a post-traumatic coping mechanism, and Severus has C/PTSD. More under the cut; tw: just general angst.

To survive, he would have had to develop a knack for telling how explosive and unpredictable people feel. Over his life, he faced at least two egregious examples of what Pete Walker, author of “Complex PTSD” calls “the Charming Bully”.

Especially devolved fight types can become sociopathic. Sociopathy can range along a continuum that stretches from corrupt politician to vicious criminal. A particularly nasty sociopath, who I call the charming bully, probably falls somewhere around the middle of this continuum. The charming bully behaves in a friendly manner some of the time. He can even occasionally listen and be helpful in small amounts, but he still uses his contempt to overpower and control others. This type typically relies on scapegoats for the dumping of his vitriol. These unfortunate scapegoats are typically weaker than him. […] He generally spares his favorites from this behavior, unless they get out of line. If the charming bully is charismatic enough, those close to him will often fail to register the unconscionable meanness of his scapegoating. The bully’s favorites often slip into denial, relieved that they are not the target. Especially charismatic bullies may even be admired and seen as great.

These would be James Potter and Tom Riddle, who are distantly related, I might add. Harry inherited the tendency to default to the fight response, but since he grew up the scapegoat and not the golden child, he never becomes quite as appalling, and after all, a fight response is normal when they are after you. Even so, Harry, who has both James and Voldemort inside him, triggers Severus to no end. It’s not a coincidence that the memories Harry sees when he is with him are largely horrible, and vice versa. There had to be happy or at least neutral or even boring moments, but these two detest each other, and they know they detest each other. Negative emotions and associated memories are so close to the surface they can’t be contained. This is the purpose of the Pensieve in this context - to contain the emotions. Since Severus knew what was in there when he pulled Harry out, my theory is that you don’t suddenly forget the memories you placed there, but rather you make them less fraught with emotions.

“Get up!” said Snape sharply. “Get up! You are not trying, you are making no effort, you are allowing me access to memories you fear, handing me weapons!”

Harry stood up again, his heart thumping wildly as though he had really just seen Cedric dead in the graveyard. Snape looked paler than usual, and angrier, though not nearly as angry as Harry was. “I — am — making — an — effort,” he said through clenched teeth.

“I told you to empty yourself of emotion!”

“Yeah? Well, I’m finding that hard at the moment,” Harry snarled.

“Then you will find yourself easy prey for the Dark Lord!” said Snape savagely. “Fools who wear their hearts proudly on their sleeves, who cannot control their emotions, who wallow in sad memories and allow themselves to be provoked this easily — weak people, in other words — they stand no chance against his powers! He will penetrate your mind with absurd ease, Potter!”

A lot to unpack here.

“Memories you fear,” “weapons”, “easy prey”.

Fearing your own memories, viewing your own lived experiences as weapons to be used against you, being easy prey… Severus could not be speaking louder of himself here. He is the one whose mind had been penetrated with absurd ease, he is the one who handed weapons to Voldemort, and he is the one who had to do the psychological equivalent of detaching his own leg – again and again – to survive.

I’ll argue that Severus developed a fawn response and a flight response, as fighting had never really worked out for him if it was possible at all. He had at least two more people I’d describe as bullies in his life, Tobias and Lucius.

Again from Pete Walker:

These [fawn] response patterns are so deeply set in the psyche, that as adults, many codependents automatically respond to threat like dogs, symbolically rolling over on their backs, wagging their tails, hoping for a little mercy and an occasional scrap. Webster’s second entry for fawn is: “to show friendliness by licking hands, wagging its tail, etc.: said of a dog.” I find it tragic that some codependents are as loyal as dogs to even the worst “masters”.

Remember what Sirius called him? Lucius’s lapdog. Bellatrix called him Dumbledore’s pet, Dumbledore said he dangles on Voldemort’s arm, the narrative compares Snape to a rabbit in SWM and Harry compares the Half Blood Prince to a beloved pet who had gone feral (yes, this does mean a lot to me on a personal level, yes my username is not a coincidence).

His unconscious fawn response might have been his undoing, drawn as he was to figures like Lucius and Voldemort. As an adult, I think he utilized the skills he had developed to survive in order to stitch these people up, and involuntary dissociation and fawning became Occlumency, which to me, is his signature magic. Harry needed only to banish Voldemort from his mind; Severus could not settle for this. He had to give Voldemort something, and knowing how to fawn meant knowing what to give him and how to draw himself in such a light that Voldemort would believe it. We see how he wanted to be seen by the Death Eaters: a self-serving coward who sought to hide behind Dumbledore’s apron, playing his pet. But that’s Pettigrew, not Snape. Imagine the self-immolation, the self-violation, it must have taken to convince everyone that you’re an ersatz Wormtail! Snape is a man and a prince, and the text recognizes this as Harry calls him, in the end, Dumbledore’s man, the bravest man, and as that chapter is called “The Prince’s Tale”. Voldemort thought Snape was nothing more than a “good and faithful servant,” and that his last words were “My Lord”.

But Severus had an unequaled gift for Occlumency, specifically against Voldemort, because Voldemort could not legilimens what he couldn’t feel; and he couldn’t feel love, grief, guilt, and remorse. This was Severus’s secret weapon, which would not have worked against Harry - who can feel these things, and who is also Lily’s son. I can prove it. The first time Harry gets the hang of Occlumency is after Dobby dies:

His scar burned, but he was master of the pain; he felt it, yet was apart from it. He had learned control at last, learned to shut his mind to Voldemort, the very thing Dumbledore had wanted him to learn from Snape. Just as Voldemort had not been able to possess Harry while Harry was consumed with grief for Sirius, so his thoughts could not penetrate Harry now, while he mourned Dobby. Grief, it seemed, drove Voldemort out . . . though Dumbledore, of course, would have said that it was love. . . .

Harry learned to dissociate, though fortunately in a healthier way than many of us ever get to.

Of course, Snape was a good and faithful servant… to Dumbledore, which brings us to the flight response. The chapter wherein he escapes after killing Dumbledore is called “Flight of the Prince”. He should be fighting, he had just proven that he can cast a killing curse, and yet he flees. He can literally fly, in fact: He, Lily, and Voldemort are the only ones we see pulling this off.

As a child, we see this too: He copes with his home situation by reminding himself “it won’t be long and I’ll be gone.” He is thrilled when he imagines Hogwarts, his escape; he follows Lily out of the carriage instead of confronting James and Sirius head-on (which might have saved them all a lot of pain eventually). But this doesn’t work out, we see that in terrifying detail. The next attempt at an escape is joining the Death Eaters, but this too doesn’t work out.

He can’t flee anymore.

“Severus, you cannot pretend this isn’t happening!” Karkaroff’s voice sounded anxious and hushed, as though keen not to be overheard. “It’s been getting clearer and clearer for months. I am becoming seriously concerned, I can’t deny it —”

“Then flee,” said Snape’s voice curtly. “Flee — I will make your excuses. I, however, am remaining at Hogwarts.”

Shortly thereafter:

“Severus,” said Dumbledore, turning to Snape, “you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready . . . if you are prepared . . .”

“I am,” said Snape.

He looked slightly paler than usual, and his cold, black eyes glittered strangely.

He was ready, and he was prepared. He didn’t fly; he walked toward what might well have been his end with open eyes, armed only with the strength of his mind. Before Voldemort killed him, he looked pale, again, and terrified.

“I sought a third wand, Severus. The Elder Wand, the Wand of Destiny, the Deathstick. I took it from its previous master. I took it from the grave of Albus Dumbledore.”

And now Snape looked at Voldemort, and Snape’s face was like a death mask. It was marble white and so still that when he spoke, it was a shock to see that anyone lived behind the blank eyes.

I ask myself if this was the moment he realized he had been betrayed, that by giving Dumbledore a painless death he had secured his own. Maybe he wasn’t pale because he was scared; maybe he was pale because he was shocked. He was at his absolute limit, Occluding with all his might when he could have easily saved himself. The dam is about to break. All the memories he feared, all the weapons, the entire content of his heart is about to spill through - literally.

He fawned for Voldemort, the worst of all possible masters, but in the end, he was Voldemort’s undoing. All the ways in which he was weak and powerless against Tobias, James, Lucius, et al., proved to be part of goodness and source of his power. It doesn’t surprise me in the least that Snape is so loved. I’ve never actually seen such love for any other fictional character. He represents a kind of courage that many of us need to get by, lest we simply become evil or give the fuck up (“I wish I was dead”). A kind of courage rarely celebrated. The more time I’ve spent in the fandom in general and in the Snapedom in particular, the more I am convinced of this.

#pro severus snape #snapedom #snape meta #snape love #severus snape #psychology #complex ptsd #I'm not qualified to diagnose anyone #But like #come on #sometimes JKR writes brilliance she doesn't seem to comprehend #snape #occlumency #harry potter

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knullanon · 4 years ago

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how the symbiotes stole you from one another #3

this took 5 hours in total yay

words: 4627

warnings: manipulation, kidnapping, dads being assholes, lmk if I missed any!

Routines in the area where Knull had dropped you off were almost nonexistent. The only reason why you woke up at all was because of the fact that it was already something you did before you got here.

Here, as in this place where Knull seemingly… owned? It was weird. He didn’t just own the land, either, he owned the symbiotes, and by that, Knull, whenever he wanted to talk to you, would just go inside one of their minds, take over, and talk to you. He had done this one multiple occasions, with him always being an asshole about everything. From trying to stop you from going outside, to bitching about your old life, and how you must be enjoying this one. It was really annoying to have to deal with him every damn day, and it was starting to become borderline creepy.

He wouldn’t care about your privacy, only how you were holding up. Literally nothing could stop him from entering your room. He removed the lock when you first got there, and then just left you. Nothing to do besides clean, fuck around, and be bored to death. The only thing you could really do otherwise bsides talk to that asshole, is just try and find something to look at.

So far, you’ve been able to tell that the previous owners of the land were evicted: probably by force by the numerous blood stains all over the place, hiding under whatever Knull didn’t want to clean. Another thing you noticed was that the area you were in used to be covered with trees, but they seemed to be all cut down recently. They smelt fresh and didn’t have any dirt or grime on the stumps. You had to assume it was a safety precaution. For him, at least.

It didn’t take long for you to start snooping around and finding different things, like a hidden diary, all written in russian, an old art kit, and a calendar dated to that year. These items, and their good conditions they were found in, only solidifies your theory that Knull just found a random property and killed the people living there. It also solidified the fact that Knull really didn’t know you existed until that night. Or, morning. Whatever time you were at the gas station. You were able to tell how long you had been taken. 2 weeks just tonight.

It was annoying the hell out of you how long staying with these assholes would seem. Two months with Eddie and venom, and then 3 months with carnage and cletus.

And now 2 weeks with this asshole, probably more. You really wanted out of this damn place. Actually, you wanted out of this weird game they had. Whoever got you first got to keep you until someone else came along. And tried to do the same thing.

As you grabbed some random clothes, and walked into the bathroom, you tried to remember before everything had happened. Before you decided to walk back home alone, like an idiot. That's what you were, wasn’t it? A fucking idiot for thinking it was a good idea. You really thought that nothing would happen, would it? And now this.

Shoving open the bathroom door, you almost didn’t see the 7 foot tall symbiote sitting in the chair across from the bed. This one was known for having a more emo look to them. With being dark blue and with little streaks of even darker red, they were always quiet and silent when you saw them. They were usually the ones to bring you food, guard the house you were in. They were also the one that Knull preferred to get into when he decided to speak to you.

The symbiote themselves were rumble, and he was… actually quite pleasant. It seemed Knull had let this batch keep their personalities, maybe at the price of kneeling before him. You didn’t know.

What you did know was that Knull was now controlling Rumble through whatever bullshit he did to be this powerful. Rumble, or, Knull technically, was reading an old newspaper dated a few months ago. It was from somewhere in Idaho, where you would assume you were located. Yes, Eddie lived in San Francisco, but when carnage took you wherever the hell he took you, and then Knull, well, it was confusing to say the least.

Anyways, the one good thing about Knull was that he really didn’t care what you thought of the place, as he said it, “a temporary arrangement on both our parties''. Pretentious bitch.

Knull put down the newspaper, and gave a smile, before gesturing with his arm to the bed you had just made. “Ah, _____, sit. Let's talk shall we?”

You didn’t want to talk to him, or even look at him, but you followed his command anyway. You tossed your clothes into an old bucket that you had placed in the corner of the room and walked towards the bed, before sitting on it. Knull smiled again with that weird mouth. Rumble never smiled, so of course it would look weird when he did. Of course, not of his own will, but still.

“So, how have you been liking your new enclosure?” Did- Did he just-

You brushed it off, not wanting to anger him. “It’s… fine. Every home comes with its ups and downs.” you hoped he would get the message about calling a home an enclosure. It makes you feel like a pet rather than a person. If Knull noticed your wording, then he ignored it. Instead, he picked up the newspaper again, saying, “Good, good. I’m glad you could understand the circumstances of your predicament.”

You tried hard not to roll your eyes, remembering what Carnage or Venom would say- even now, if you had no idea where they were, their words and opinions still sat with you months later. Instead, you nodded your head to his words, and sat in silence waiting for him to say anything else. Knull did not say anything for a few minutes. Long, agonizing minutes. It reminded you of being with Eddie and Venom, those two assholes. When they were working, they required the utmost silence otherwise they couldn’t focus. They never got mad at you, but they would always try to put you up to something, like reading. Which is why you would read all their books on crime rates, detectives, natural disasters, anything to pass the time while they were working.

It got you entertained for the most part. Sitting in a room with nothing to do, for 2 months was more difficult than you ever thought it would be.

“Are you thinking of your previous hosts and their accommodations?”

Knull pulled you from your thoughts, and even though he was reading the newspaper, you were able to tell he wanted an answer. You shifted from your spot at the edge of the bed, before answering with, “U-Uh, yeah, I am.”

“Hmm.”

He continued to read for a moment, before he pulled the newspaper down a little to view you. “Are you not tired of them?”

“What do you mean?”

This time, he put the newspaper in his lap. “Venom and Eddie. Carnage and Cletus. How have they treated you in the few months you’ve known them?”

You had to sit there and think for a moment, wondering where this conversation was going. What was he trying to do this time?

“Well, venom and Eddie were… constricting. I never had anything to do. Besides reading the books on the shelf, but even then I had to do that discreetly. They didn’t like me doing those things. Or, rather, reading those things. They said it was too… graphic.”

“Ah, I see.” he acknowledged, picking up the newspaper again. “And Carnage and Cletus? How was their company?”

You really wanted to hide in a hole now. “They were… fine.”

“Were they, though?”

You wondered if it would just be worth it to tell everything: how you felt about Eddie, how you felt about Cletus, and how you felt about this asshole doing the same thing the rest of them had done.

“...No, they weren’t.”

He gave a small smile, before he asked, “Oh? Please do tell me more.”

You knew what he was doing, what he was playing at, and yet, you fell right for it. “They would tell me… they would say that no one was going to come for me. No one cared. Not my family, not Eddie, no one. Only them.”

He nodded along, and when he realized you were done venting, he said, “well, aren’t you glad that you’re with me now?”

Turning to face him, you gave him a glare. “Excuse me?”

“Think about it. With one of them, they gave you limited resources to entertain yourself, and the other made you feel like nothing. With me, I give you free reign to do whatever you please. You may ask for whatever you wish, visit whoever you choose, as long as you plead your loyalty to me.”

You stared at him, before you turned your back towards him, mumbling, “Liar.”

He chuckled, and you heard the newspaper crinkle. “I’m not making any jokes. Pledge our loyalty, and you will receive anything you would ever want.”

“Would that include being let go to see my family again?”

“Yes, actually. You would just have to come back when you were done with your visits.”

That caught your attention. He would let you go back? Really? He did say you would go back to him when you were done with your “visits”... but still, better than what the other two were offering.

You thought for a moment before the doubts started to kick in. How do we know he won’t betray you when you do pledge your loyalty to him? How do we know he won’t just keep you here forever? What ounce of trust should we put in him when everyone has kicked us when we were already down?

Almost as if he heard your thoughts, Knull said, “I will give you time for your answer. After all, I have years and years to spare.”

With that he folded the newspaper, setting it down gently, before you saw something spark in his eyes and Rumble returned to his own mind. He sat there unmoving for a few moments, before he sat up and looked at you. “I assume he just wanted to talk?”

You sighed, feeling tired only at 7 in the morning already. “Yes, Rumble, that’s all he came here for.”

He gave a hum of acknowledgment before he got up and walked to the exit to the room. Before he left, however, he said, “Do not be surprised if the water runs out: this was called a temporary enclosure for a reason.”

Before you could say anything, he left you to watch the door again, just before you could ask him to stop calling the home an enclosure, he shut the door softly. You were about to say something, but decided it was not worth it, so instead, you opted to just continue on with what you had to do throughout the day.

~~~~~~~~~

As Rumble looked on as you would clean and dry out clothes on line and leave them for the hot summer day to dry, hopefully by the end of the day, you had mumbled out when first getting out the big hamper. Next to it, you had a couple pieces of clothing sitting in another basket covered by water and soap. Currently, you were wringing out all of the water from a white top, trying to not stretch it out.

Rumble grumble out something, before he heard him in his head:

“Rumble, I would assume you would have the decency to not talk badly about my daughter behind her back.”

Rumble froze up before he quickly set his posture more straightened as he watched you put the shirt on the line, before going to grab another piece of clothing. “No, Lord Knull, I was just noting the… strange enclosure you had chosen for her.”

He heard Knull chuckle, before responding with, “Oh, Rumble, you should know my plan by now.”

Rumble sent a wave of confusion to Knull, indicating that no, he had no idea what his plan was.

Knull simply sighed, before he continued. “I have had plans to bring her to Klyntar, our homeworld, and yet, I have a feeling she will not be able to live there. For a while, I thought I would only be able to visit her through the symbiotes already on earth, or just get there myself, with obvious consequences. However, I’ve found a third option. There is a way to bring her here without having to worry for her safety.”

Suddenly, Rumble received a vision, or more specifically, a live feed of what Knull was looking at. It looked like a symbiote, and yet, it was… odd. It did not have a mind of its own, it's like it was waiting to be filled by something. And this one did not need a host, either. From Knull’s own memories, it seemed he created this one to rely solely on its own, however, for the need to do normal things, it needed someone to fill its mind. Rumble suddenly realized where this was going.

“Lord Knull, you aren’t saying-”

“Yes, I’m saying exactly what you are thinking of.”

Rumble saw Knull walk up to the symbiote, and stroke it with his claw. It did not respond. “This symbiote that I have created will need a mind, someone who has already been born, only their mind. I am planning on giving it to ______ and then letting her rest there, before taking away her body and giving her mind to.... Well, I have not named this one. Maybe I will name it… _______. After her.”

~~~~~~~

You laid the last shirt in the bucket, and when you tried to grab another and felt that there were no more, you sighed and grabbed the dirty water, and poured it out on the grass, not caring if the soap would kill the already dead plants. Then you put the hamper and the bucket on top of each other and carried it back into the house. When you reached the sink, you put the buckets in the sink and turned the tap: only for nothing to come out.

“Do not be surprised if the water runs out: this was called a temporary enclosure for a reason.”

Fucking hell. You got the hamper out and when you saw that it was relatively clean, you let it go, but the dirty water one…

Yeah, you had to clean this before the next laundry day.

It did not help that there were dishes that needed to be washed. You sighed and left the bucket on the counter, and you were about to walk back up to your room, when you had an idea. You walked outside and saw Rumble standing near a cut down tree, waiting for something. Walking up to him, you said, “Hey, Rumble, is there another water source around here?”

He gave you a look, before he said, “Yes, there is one, why must you use it? We will be moving next week to a new location.”

“Well, if it's gonna take a week, I hope you have some form of water to bring up here for the dishes, or showers, or clothes, or-”

“Alright, alright I get it.” he stalked over to you and looked towards another symbiote, probably trying to talk to them before the other symbiote simply nodded and walked to another part of the property.

“I will take you to a river, but after that, the others will gather the water for you, am I clear?”

You nodded. “Good, lets go.”

~~~~~~

Anti-venom stood at the clearing, looking at the decomposing bodies, just two women and two men. He could tell they had been there for more than a week, but not enough for them to completely decompose.

Anti-venom looked around before he tried to smell where they were from. Unfortunately, whoever dumped their bodies was smart in how they covered up the scent. There was almost nothing out here, and with the fact that someone covered up their scent made it more unnerving.

He didn’t try to think of how they died, only giving them his wishes before he started to walk away. Just a couple meters away was a little river that he knew expanded as you went up the stream. He walked over and saw nothing of old blood on the rocks, so they must’ve died somewhere else-

What was that?

He whirled his head towards the start of the river, upwards maybe by a few miles. Even out here, the stench of Knull and his underdogs were there. He growled, remembering how Knull used them for his own gain. He quickly theorized that for some reason, Knull was here and he had killed these people- but why? What would make him do this?

Anti-venom decided to find out on his own, as he started to sprint his way up the river.

~~~~~~

“Why did Lord Knull choose you, anyway?”

“Choose me as what?”

You were currently at the river, cleaning out the dishes in the bucket, and then rinsing them off. Rumble was nearby, sitting in his own little area, and he was also bored. He wanted to know things that Knull would not tell him: would not tell anyone, to be more precise.

You looked back at him, before you turned back to the dishes. “I don’t question it anymore. I never had a choice, I was just… chosen. It’s something I’ve had to get used to for the past months, and even now I don’t have anything to do, anything to say.”

Rumble quirked an eye. “But Lord Knull gave you a choice, did he not?”

“Oh, yeah, please tell me, what did he give me a choice on?”

“On being free to do as you please.”

You stopped washing the little plate you had, and you turned back to face him. “What?”

“He gave you a choice. You could swear loyalty to him, or-”

“Ok, enough with the loyalty bullshit, I’m tired of hearing it.” You had gone back to the dishes, scrubbing furiously at the plate. “I get it, it's a better option than Carnage or Venom, but could I at least have the option of never seeing you fucks ever again?”

Rumble did not say anything more, letting you get out your anger by scrubbing the dishes that were left, and tossing them into the bucket.

When you were finally done, you tried to pick up the bucket, but all of that scrubbing and cleaning made your arms sore. Rumble decided to restore his reputation with you by getting the bucket for you. You didn’t complain, as your arms were extremely sore from your anger washing.

The walk back to the property was peaceful. You weren’t angry at Rumble: to be honest, he was a sweetheart. He would help you out with so many things it was almost unbelievable. He was much more pleasant to be around than Knull, that was for sure.

Even if he had to call Knull “Lord Knull” each time you met, it was fine. The little trail that you two took was getting more smoother as you got closer and closer to the property. When you reached the clearing, you saw the normal sight:

5 symbiotes around the area stalking, waiting. They were most likely on guard, and even then, they had their eyes on you, making sure there was no funny business between you and Rumble.

Walking up to the one story house, you felt… wrong. Of course, this had always felt wrong, but this time it was like someone was watching you from afar. Before you got onto the porch, you turned to look at all the symbiotes watching you. Nothing unusual, the normal amount that would stand guard in this area. Maybe one of them is looking too long, you thought, as Rumble opened the door for you and you both went inside.

Unfortunately, no one noticed the speck of white in the bushes, hiding. Waiting.

~~~~~~~

It was almost time for you to start getting ready for bed. You already had dinner, and now all you needed was just a nice warm bed. You sighed as you made sure everything was in its place, before you walked back in the hallway and into your room. You got out your favorite pair of pajamas, and started to change. You already had a shower last night, it wouldn’t matter if you had one today.

As you changed, your mind went back to the conversation with Knull earlier that day. Would he really let you do whatever you wanted if you just… spared your loyalty, as he called it? Could you see your family and friends again? Could you tell them you were ok and not harmed?

But, he did say that you couldn’t stay there… you would have to go back with him… where did he live, anyway? He was an alien god, so… space? But… where?

Maybe he lived on some random planet and acquired a bunch of power, you had no idea-

“YOU WOULD ALL DARE TO HELP KNULL AND HIS PLANS?!”

That didn’t sound good. You rushed out of your room, pajamas halfway on, and peeked outside of the kitchen window, where you saw everything.

In the middle of the clearing, stood tall and bloody, was another symbiote. He was white with some black accents here and there, and most importantly, he was holding fire.

You already knew that symbiotes didn’t like heat, or fire. Especially not fire.

You remember one time when you tried to escape Eddie with fire. It did not work out well. You were locked in a closet, and fortunately for you, that was where you stored your books.

Anyways, you had no time to think of those times, when you were running from whatever the fuck is going on outside the house. You ran back to your room to put on a shirt, and when you were finished putting on your socks, running was heard from the hallway.

Rumble came through the door and dragged you by your forearm down towards a specific spot in the floor. He then lifted a larger floorboard that revealed a crawl space. He shoved you in, gently as possible, before he said, “Stay. Here. I’ll come for you when I beat him.”

“Who?” You were about to ask, but he slammed the door shut, leaving you to fear for the next few minutes.

You sat there for a few more minutes, before you heard crackling. Crackling of fire. You were desperately trying to open the door, but it seemed to be glued shut: there was nothing that could open it.

At this point, you were starting to cry. The symbiotes couldn’t stand fire, how would they stand this? You were desperate to leave, to escape: you never wanted to be here, with these people who thought they could help you. You wanted to go home, to see your family, friends, the people who loved and cherished you, and actually respected your boundaries.

The door was broken inwards and you felt every muscle in your body stop. You crouched a little from the trap door, hoping they didn’t hear you. From they're desperate steps and quick feet, it was obviously not Rumble or any other symbiote you knew.

You were pulled from your thoughts as the steps went into the hallway. As they walked by, slower, you held your breath. If they found you… well, you knew what happened when new symbiotes would find you.

You let out a silent sigh when they passed the door… only for them to come rushing back. Without even knowing it, they ripped open the trap door, revealing you, tired, scared, and cold.

The symbiote you saw was the exact one that was outside, who was attacking all the other symbiotes.

He looked shocked, as if he didn’t know you were there. “Child…” he asked, as he reached down to try and grab you, “what are you doing in a place like this?”

He picked you up with the utmost gentleness and care, like you would shatter if he just yanked you out. He cradled you within his arms, like you were a baby. He was a giant compared to you, being almost 7 or 8 feet tall.

“Where are your parents?” he asked, taking you with him, walking out of the house. You tried to crawl out of his palm, but he stopped you each time. “I-I don't know.”

He tried to give you a sympathetic look. “Oh, my sweet dear, don’t be afraid. I will k-”

He suddenly jumped into the fire, and you screamed expecting to be burnt along with all the weeds.

However, you didn’t feel anything. Turns out this was because the symbiote had taken you up into the air, so while he was holding you by your waist, he was also holding you out of the reach of the fire. He held his hand up high, not only to make sure that you wouldn’t be hurt, but as you saw Rumble on the ground, close to the fire, you realized it was to get you out of his grip.

“Rumble. You used to be such an open minded symbiote. Now look at you. You are just leeching off of Lord Knull, the one who enslaves you and the rest of our kind!”

The white symbiotes seemingly noticed you again, and said, “and you have the audacity to bring an innocent child into this mess! How dare you!”

With that, he started to walk into the fire, which surprisingly was not burning him. He still held you up high so you wouldn’t be burnt by the flames, which was nice. You looked back at Rumble, who was trying to get up, but the injuries on his legs seemed severe. The fire was closing in on him as well.

You felt bad for him. You reached out, but before you could do anything, Anti venom started to sprint away from the house. The last thing you saw of Rumble was him collapsing onto the ground, broken and beaten.

When you were out of the fire, the symbiote lowered you to his eye level. “My name is Anti-Venom, tiny child. What is yours?”

BONUS:

Rumble sat on the remains of the house: nothing was left of it when Lord Knull appeared. It was a miracle he had even gotten the distress alert, a bigger one he had arrived in time to save rumble himself. Every other symbiote was gone, either from the fire or the white symbiote. Anti-Venom was his name.

“So, you failed at getting back _____ for me?”

“... Lord Knull, I am deeply sorry, but-”

“I don’t want to hear excuses, Rumble, I want to see my daughter! I want to seeher before the other two get her, or worse she falls for that idiotic Anti-Venom, do you hear me?!”

Rumble sat there waiting for Lord Knull to be done with his rant, before he said, “Yes, Lord Knull. I understand.”

Lord Knull stood up and started to walk away. “Good. I will try to locate her myself. In the meantime, find out everything you can about this Anti-Venom. I want his secrets, every dirty little thing about him, do you understand?”

“Yes, Lord Knull, it will be done.”

And with that, Lord Knull was gone, leaving Rumble to dwell in his own failures.

--------

almost forgot, @anxiousnerdwritings this was for u

#yandere knull #yandere cletus kasady #yandere carnage #yandere eddie brock #yandere venom #yandere anti-venom #yandere marvel #yandere marvel comics

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diavolosthots · 4 years ago

Note

Could you make a fic about Barbatos meeting his mc's strict religious parents? Idk if he would use his time travel power or not. I don't even know if he's allowed by Lord Diavolo. But that up to what you think

Idc if Solomon is left for this series i am completely and utterly done with this just FYI for anyone who suggests it.

Also! I remember in the game they said diavolo forbids him from using his powers and i have my own theories on that

Warning: religion

Who Has the Time? (BARBATOS X GN!READER)

“I won’t be able to stay long, (Y/N), you know that. Nothing can or will go wrong in the short time that I will be there.” And even that didn’t calm your nerves. Barbatos was probably one of the most well behaved demons, actually people in general, you will ever meet, but it still doesn’t change the fact that he is a demon. Diavolo didn’t even allow him to see into the future because “It will be fun, Barbatos! Just be yourself! And be back for dinner, please…” How is this fun, Diavolo, huh?! You were freaking out and what’s the point of having a time travelling demon boyfriend when he can’t even see into the future so you could prepare yourself for any possible outcomes?! If you weren’t sure Barbatos would fight you for this, you would’ve fought Diavolo right then and there. “That doesn’t give me peace of mind, Barbatos.” He only chuckled. Seriously, what could go wrong? What has he ever done that even remotely resembled bad manners?

“They’ll like me, (Y/N). If they won’t, I’ll simply never see them again.” Seriously he wouldn’t see an issue with it, either. Like, he’s dating you and not them and if they have an issue with him, well, that’s their problem. Barbatos is a very simple man and he doesn’t like to overcomplicate things, so he just doesn't. “I know… I just want everyone to get along. At least we’re meeting in a public place and we can leave whenever we want.” Truthfully, you hated dealing with your parents on most days and you hid most of your relationships from them because they were always so strict and “oh they aren’t God-like, (Y/N). You deserve better.” After hearing that for every person that you introduced to them, you just kind of gave up and dated quietly, understandably so.

“Is that them?” You decided to meet at a bar, weirdly enough. Your parents don’t drink a lot but they like the snacks they lay out so you figured this would be a nice ice breaker. Minimal amounts of alcohol and tasty snacks, why not? “Yes. That’s them.” they’re standing outside the bar, waving at you and you managed to smile and wave back, clutching Barbatos’ arm, which he offered so kindly, a little tighter, “okay… here goes nothing.” He’s smiling, as always. He’s also dressed as always, which you had advised him not to but he refused to change for your parents when he was just going back to the castle to work later on anyway, “Good evening Mr. and Mrs. (L/N). It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Barbatos beat you to the greeting and you silently cursed him for it but managed to smile too, “hey guys…. How are you? Do you wanna head inside?” The quicker you got inside, the quicker you could get this over with.

Both your mom and dad eyed him suspiciously. “Is there a reason you’re dressed like count Dracula?” Barbatos, bless his soul, was still smiling even at your dad’s somewhat insulting words, “Yes, as a matter of fact there is. My job requires it.” Your mom nodded, glancing at you and then shaking her head, “well, at least you have a job. That stands for something. Come on.” She led the way inside and your dad was about to get the door when Barbatos reached for it, “allow me, sir.” but instead of being impressed by Barbatos’ offer, your dad almost took offense to it. “Dad. Let’s go.” Thankfully you can tell by his body language that he was about to say something and Barbatos really didn’t deserve that so you just pushed everyone inside and joined your mother who had already found herself a seat at the bar. “So… tell me uhm… I don’t think I caught your name.” “Barbatos.” Your mother narrowed her eyes and so did you like dude, you couldn’t have come up with something else for the time being like Bob or something like that?

“Well… Barbatos…” the way she said it was almost venomous and you really hated her for that, “what is it that you do?” You held your hand up for the waiter because you needed a drink before any of this actually went down and I’m sure Barbatos would appreciate one too, “shots for everyone, please.” “oh no, I’ll just have a beer.” Leave it to your dad to kill your fun. He needs that shot, you know he does. “Well, I’m a sort of… nanny, if you will.” You laughed a little because yes, yes he is. Diavolo is a giant man child and Barbatos is the paid parent he never signed up to be; thus, Barbatos is a nanny. Perfect. “A nanny? Son, don’t you think you should have a more manly job? You don’t look weak or chronically ill or anything.” Barbatos is still smiling and you seriously wondered how, “please refrain from calling me ‘son’, sir. I’m not your son, nor am I a child, and it makes me rather uncomfortable.”

Your mom looked at you and shrugged softly, leaning in to whisper to you, “at least he can stand his ground and isn’t like some of the other wimps you brought home.” You glared back at her like, did she have to remind you of your past mistakes? Your dad nodded, surprisingly, “Well? Won’t you answer my question?” “I fear your question is embedded in some old school tradition I simply wish to take no part of. I am, in the simplest of terms, a nanny, a housekeeper, a cook, and a host on certain days and I assure you that there’s more to my job than meets the eye and is sure to measure my strength; however, I doubt you are simply concerned with my occupation and rather that there is something else. So tell me, Mr. (L/N), what is it that you actually mean to say?” Both you and your dad stared wide eyed at Barbatos because not only did he just call your dad out, he did so passive aggressively, and now he’s even downing his shot as if nothing ever happened?!

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Yes you do.” Was Barbatos using his powers? No… you doubted it. He’s probably just that good. “Fine. you are the man in this relationship and thus, you should be taking care of my (Y/N) financially and physically. You can’t do that by nannying little kids, which is supposed to be their future job.” “Says who?” Wow Barbatos really isn’t holding back here, “says the Lord.” Barbatos actually laughed for once before shrugging softly, “My Lord has said no such thing.” He’s being vague enough so that your parents don’t know what he’s talking about, or more so, whom he is referring to. “As a matter of fact, the Lord that I look up to encourages everyone to do as they please as long as no harm is done.” Well… somewhat correct, but yes Barbatos, go get them. You couldn’t help but smile at him because even though Barbatos is talking about Diavolo right now, this could also apply to their God. “Elaborate.”

And Barbatos did elaborate, and to your surprise, your dad and mom actually listened. Not once did Barbatos mention their or his actual faith but what he spoke of was interesting and entertaining and it was close enough to their version of the truth that they didn’t mind. “Very well… It seems you know the Lord very well.” You snorted. You didn’t doubt Barbatos met God at some point but you did doubt that it was in recent history. Whatever Barbatos had sold them though, they seemed to like and they actually ended up congratulating you on finding such a nice man.

“He still looks like Dracula, though, (Y/N).”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #barbatos x mc #om! barbatos #barbatos fic #barbatos obey me #shall we date barbatos #obey me barbatos #obey me barbatos x reader #tw religion

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onewithnomightypowers · 4 years ago

Text

clandestine (chapter 1)

PAIRING: Tom Holland x fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Y/N is an up and coming actress, married to a once hotshot actor, Harrison (Haz). What happens when her co-star, Tom, makes her realise that she is stuck in a loveless marriage. A marriage starts crumbling and a new romance stars brewing.

Chapter 1: too wise to trust

A/N: y/n is bisexual but not paired with a women. the characters have been aged up. the characters in no way portray how these ppl are in real life. i do not encourage cheating. i hope you guys like it as much is i do. if you want to be tagged them pls tell me. also comments are appreciated as they motivate me to write more and i love to know how you guys feel about the story.

warning: cursing, mention of miscarriage, mention of sex, mention of cat calling, angst. fluff?

word count: 1.4k

important: character thoughts are bold and italic, flashback is in italic

masterlist series masterlist chapter 2

She picked up her makeup bag from her vanity and started walking towards her empty suitcase which was wide open on her bed. “What time is your flight?” Haz asked while walking into their bedroom. “I think it’s at 6:30 in the evening but the car will be here to pick me up at 4”, she replied whilst folding her clothes.

“So we have at least an hour to us”; he pulled her by the waist and started kissing her neck. She tried pushing his chest away but failed miserably. “Haz, I’m not in the mood, please stop”

“Fine. But you have been saying that for months now”, he was frustrated.

She ignored his words like always.

He was right. They hadn’t had sex for at least five months now and it was starting to gain on Harrison. Their marriage, which had been ‘couple goals’ according to the internet, was now slowly falling apart. It was clear that Y/N was falling out of love but she couldn’t find grounds for it. She couldn’t reason it by making him the villain because he was a good man who, in theory, had done nothing wrong. Though, to her, it felt like he had. Maybe he didn’t love her enough or maybe all had gone astray when they had lost their baby last year.

“Will Tom be there?” his words felt like venom, entering her bloodstream.

She placed her hand on her forehead, trying to indicate that she did not want to have this conversation or the inevitable fight, again.

“Of course he will be there, he is my co-star. You should get off the internet, it’s feeding you poison”, she said in an almost nonchalant way. Trying her best not to give him the satisfaction of a reaction to his name. His name, which did not mean anything to her. Tom was her colleague whom the internet liked to ship her with, but he was just a friend. Haz found it hard to believe this because the internet told him so. Their relationship was so far gone that he had no other way of knowing what was going on in her life.

His wife was so far gone. She was as distant as the sun is from the moon. The distance left coldness between them. The kind of cold that you feel when you pass a stranger. She was a stranger to him and the only reason he could think of was that she and Tom were having an affair. This was not true, but the ache in his soul found comfort in painting Tom as the villain.

“I don’t believe you”, Haz spat out.

She threw her heels inside the suitcase in anger. “What do you not believe? That Tom is my co-star? Is that what you don’t believe?” her voice was louder than before.

“I don’t trust him.” Haz matched her voice.

“Do you trust me?”

Trust? Her? How can I trust a stranger?

It was his turn to ignore her.

She zipped her bag, put on her shoes, and left the room. “Fuck you”, she cried before slamming their apartment door and leaving for London.

Y/N had first met Tom at a cast and crew dinner in New York, six months ago. Greta, the director, had invited both her and Haz but he had decided to opt-out of the ‘fancy’ dinner. Y/N was excited to meet her new co-stars and mark the starting of a new project, a new phase in her life.

It was cold in New York, she figured she shouldn’t wear a dress. She put on black stockings underneath blue bell-bottoms to keep her warm. She wore a dark grey American Eagles t-shirt and over that, a tan leather trench coat. She liked commuting via subway because she believed ‘nobody gives two shits about who is sitting next to them on the train’; and a town car was much slower, especially when it had been snowing. She stuffed her heels in her purse and wore her commuting shoes.

Tribeca to West Village was a good ten minutes train. Her travel was mostly uninterrupted except for the catcalls which felt like the usual to a native. Just before ringing Greta’s doorbell, she got out of her Converse and wore her heels.

Y/N entered a packed house. Almost everyone was there and she was late. But someone was to arrive even later than her. She examined the room, everyone was mingling with each other. She didn’t know anybody there except Noah Baumbach from the time she auditioned for ‘marriage story’. She didn’t get the part but still loved the movie. She realized Tom was missing.

Greta pulled her into a conversation about when the production of the movie would start or something like that. She wasn’t really paying attention. She was so eager to meet Tom that her eyes couldn’t stop roaming around the room, trying to find him, and just when she thought he wouldn’t show up, he did.

Everybody’s head turned towards him when he entered the living room. It was as if every person in the room wanted him, including her. His dark brown hair, falling into place like a domino, had snowflakes in them.

“Excuse me”, Greta gave a small smile to Y/N and walked over to Tom. She greeted him and politely touched his back. “Now that everyone is here we should take the party to the dining hall”, she said in a loud and cheerful tone.

Following Greta, everyone started moving towards the dining hall. Tom sat right across Y/N on the grand dining table. “Hi, I’m Tom”, he introduced himself in his thick British accent. “And he’s English”, Y/N said, adding to her list of things she found captivating about Tom.

“And?” Tom gave her a confused look.

Shit. I said it out loud.

“I-I mean hi, I’m Y/N”, she tried to cover up her mistake.

His dark brown eyes on her, made her thoughts run wild. It was wrong enough to feel right. The dinner was served and small groups of conversations were taking place. Somehow the whole table took on the topic of bisexuality. Y/N felt obligated to take part in the conversation, being part of the community herself.

“I think bisexuality is a gateway to being gay”, Tom said to the whole table.

“You’re being bi-phobic, Tom”, Y/N called him out. All eyes were on her now.

“And how do you know that?” Tom asked Y/N.

“Because I am bisexual, and any decent human being would know that”

“Are you calling me indecent?”

“No, I’m calling you bi-phobic”

“But aren’t you married to a guy?”

“That doesn’t change my sexual orientation, and you’re being bi-phobic. Again.” There was silence, everyone was listening carefully.

“Okay, so please explain to me how I’m being bi-phobic?”

“Just the fact that you believe bisexuality is a gateway to being gay and me being married to a guy, means my bisexual card has been revoked, portray your biphobia”

“I am a little confused”, Tom said while reaching for his wine glass.

“Someone who is bisexual is attracted to both men as well as women. It isn’t a gateway to being gay, it is a legit sexuality of its own”,

“Hmm, I suppose I stand corrected. I’m sorry if I offended you or anyone. I will go home, do the research and try to be more open-minded”, said Tom, smiling.

“Good”, Y/N said, feeling accomplished and impressed by Tom’s ability to accept his mistake.

Haz would have never accepted that he was wrong.

Y/N felt wonderstruck. Blushing all the way home. She hoped Tom knew how enchanting it was for her to meet him. She wondered if someone was waiting for him at home, like someone was waiting for her. She wasn’t quite sure whether Haz was waiting for her to reach home or not.

She reached home to an empty bed. Not knowing what to make of it, she got ready to sleep. 2 AM and Haz was still not home. She didn’t try to reach him because she knew all phone calls would go straight to voice message and all messages would go unreplied. She closed her eyes, feeling indifferent towards Haz. Even in her sleep, her mind echoed Tom’s name. She was unaware of the treacherous road ahead of her. And that gave her comfort. His thought gave her comfort.

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agerefandom · 4 years ago

Text

Home Sweet Home

Fandom: Twilight

Characters: Esme and Carlisle Cullen as parents: Edward, Alice, Jasper, Emmett, and Rosalie as regressors

Words: 3,500

Summary: The Cullens always enjoy family night: a chance for all the children to regress, and for Carlisle and Esme to feel like parents. There’s nothing more relaxing. But tonight, Edward is refusing to come downstairs and join the family.

Content Warnings: Parental titles, diapers, mention of nursing. Brief mentions of blood and the angst of immortality.

Notes: The first two paragraphs are referencing this fic I wrote earlier this month! It’s not necessary to understand the rest of the fanfiction, though. Let me know if you notice any errors, this was a long one for me to edit myself so I only did two drafts. (Also I might put out my Cullens headcanons after this, I didn’t incorporate all of them into this fanfiction!)

Carlisle listens to the radio as he drives home, his mind drifting from thought to thought. It had been a busy day for the Forks clinic, but nothing compared to the ER in Seattle. His shifts there were full of the smell of blood and panic, constant calls and frightened family members.

But today, that one patient had been so frightened, and so young… it had made Carlisle’s unbeating heart feel bruised. He’s glad to be on his way home to his own children, safe with their mother. He hopes that patient is also safe at home, considering the offer he’d made to meet other regressors.

Carlisle’s home is a chaotic place, but full of joy, and he knows that few are so lucky.

He pulls up the driveway, waiting for the garage door to open before pulling into his spot and getting out. He had already changed out of his work clothes, now in plain slacks and his favourite grey sweater. Alice loves the texture of this one, and he knows it makes her happy to see him wearing it in the future, so he always makes sure to plan this outfit ahead of time.

He can hear his family’s voices inside, could pick them out if he focused enough. Alice is already waiting near the door, probably intending to tackle him once he gets inside. He can hear her quiet giggles as she waits. Carlisle won’t be surprised if Emmett is helping her with her ambush, but managing to stay quiet.

Carlisle braces himself and swings open the door.

“I’m home!” he calls out, just as Alice leaps at him. “Hi, honey!” he says, turning to catch her in his arms. Such a light little thing, his youngest daughter. “How are you?”

“Good, daddy!” Alice rests her cheek against his sweater, wrapping her legs around his waist. “You were gone so long!”

“Ah, boring work,” Carlisle sighs, already feeling the stress of the day melting away into the familiar smell of home and family. Human scents are so busy and overwhelming, emotions and history drifting from their skin. Here in their own space, Carlisle can pick out the clean smells of his family, each one slightly different but bearing the same mark: his venom, binding them together. “Much better to be home with my children.”

“Dad!!!” Sure enough, Emmett attacks from behind with a proper tackle, and only his verbal warning allows Carlisle to duck out of the way, chuckling. Emmett stumbles past and saves himself from crashing into the wall, just barely. He spins and runs at Carlisle again, this time jumping into his arms like Alice did.

He’s a larger boy, and Carlisle laughs as he catches him, thankful for the strength that allows him to lift his adult-sized children on each hip.

“Hello, Emmett. Trying to get daddy in a headlock again?”

“It was Alice’s idea,” Emmett says, resting his head on Carlisle’s shoulder.

“Hmm,” Carlisle murmurs, unconvinced. Alice and Emmett are the troublemakers of the household, occasionally pulling Rosalie into their schemes. It’s difficult to guess which of them planned the ambush.

Esme comes around the corner, carrying Jasper in her arms. Jasper is resting, eyes closed, his eyelashes brushing against his cheeks. Esme looks absolutely beautiful, but she always does when Carlisle is seeing her for the first time in hours.

“Darling,” Esme says warmly. “I see you’ve already found the children.”

“It was a surprise attack,” Carlisle explains, bouncing the two siblings once before releasing them to the floor and watching them scramble back to their playroom. “Very fierce warriors, our children.”

“Fearsome,” Esme smiles, and approaches to give Carlisle a kiss. He will never get tired of kissing his wife. Each one is a blessing, and an affirmation of her love.

Today Esme is dressed in a plum-coloured dress that brushes against the ground, designed to be unhooked so she can nurse the children that are young enough. There’s no nutritional point to the gesture, of course, but just like the diapers and pull-ups that their youngest wear, it’s an emotional comfort. A reminder of both childhood and humanity. For Esme, being a mother has always been her greatest fulfilment, and nursing her children the most loving gesture.

“Would you take the baby?” she says, smiling fondly down at Jasper. “He’s been fussy all day, and the playroom needs my attention.”

“My pleasure.” Carlisle carefully accepts Jasper into his arms, sneaking another kiss onto Esme’s cheek in the process. Jasper stirs at the movement, making a small sound of confusion. “Hush, sweetheart. Just daddy,” Carlisle murmurs, making sure the baby is in a comfortable position. “Nothing to worry about.”

Jasper blinks his eyes open and looks up at Carlisle, then burbles a little string of nothing words.

“Oh, really?” Carlisle replies. “Emmett didn’t tell me that.”

Encouraged by the response, Jasper continues to babble. Carlisle smiles and nods as he carries his son towards the living room. “An interesting theory!” He settles into the couch and listens to the sounds of the house. Esme is lecturing Alice and Emmett in the other room: apparently, one of them pulled down the hammock again. It’s a nearly daily occurrence, the hooking system far too delicate for a family of vampires, but Esme thinks that the children need to learn how to be careful.

“Oh, your siblings are in trouble,” Carlisle sighs. “We’re lucky to have one little angel.”

“Two little angels,” Rosalie corrects him, jumping into one of the nearby chairs.

“Ah, of course.” Carlisle smiles at her. She’s done her hair in pigtails, and decorated her bangs with colourful clips. Rosalie is their eldest daughter, regressing to around eight or nine, but she’s still quite young. “Two angels. Where’s your older brother?”

“Upstairs,” Rosalie shrugs. “Listening to music.”

Sure enough, Carlisle can hear the tinny sound of Debussy’s Reverie coming from Edward’s headphones upstairs. “He’s missing family time.” Carlisle is worried about Edward, although he knows it’s pointless. Edward had been his first son, after all, and although he loves his entire family, he finds that Edward has withdrawn more and more in the recent decades. “Would you go and fetch him, Rosalie?”

“I can try,” Rosalie says dubiously.

“Come on, angel,” Carlisle cajoles. He holds out a hand, and Rosalie comes over to accept it. He kisses the back of her hand, smiling up at her. “You’re the only one scary enough to make him come down.” Rosalie laughs, clearly pleased by that.

“Can I play science after I get him? Mommy said I wasn’t allowed.”

“If I can play with you, we can absolutely do some science after.” Rosalie has a talent for creating explosions in the ‘kitchen,’ which is mostly used as a laboratory space for the children who are interested in such things. They all need adult supervision, but Rosalie often tries to argue that she’s old enough to play alone.

“Fine,” Rosalie sighs. “I’ll get him.”

And she runs up the stairs, upstairs within a second. Carlisle can hear the whir of Edward’s tape player as Rosalie’s footsteps start towards his room. Edward has been alive for many forms of music, but for some reason he always uses a tape player when he’s regressing. It makes it easy for Carlisle to tell when he’s regressed, at least: he’s so quiet as a teen, the eldest of the five siblings. Almost old enough that his regression matches the part all the Cullens children play in the human world, pretending to be teenagers.

There are only a few years between Edward’s regression and his everyday mask, but a world of difference. Edward can only regress at home, surrounded by the familiar thoughts of his family. Outside of the house, the constant noise makes it impossible for him to do anything except constantly sort through the data pouring in from all sides.

Carlisle closes his eyes, shutting out the sound of Edward’s music and Esme struggling with the hammock while Alice plays around her. Instead, he focuses on Jasper’s even breaths as he lies against his father’s chest.

Carlisle matches his youngest child’s breathing, enjoying the motion. He’s gotten out of the habit through the years: it’s easier to get through the days of hospital work if you pretend to be breathing, but neglect the act itself and all the intensity of tastes and smells that come with it. Here at home, Carlisle will sometimes engage in meditation, turning his attention to the act of breathing: there’s something calming about the flow of air in your body, even if you don’t need the oxygen for your blood flow.

Jasper smiles in his feigned sleep, pressing a little closer to Carlisle’s chest. He clearly knows that he’s being copied.

“Precious boy,” Carlisle says fondly, brushing a hand across Jasper’s cheek. “So loved by his parents.”

Jasper fully smiles at that, closing his eyes tighter and pulling at Carlisle’s sweater in an approximation of a hug.

“I love you too,” Carlisle murmurs, knowing what the gesture means.

“Daddy!” Rosalie says, standing in front of the couch again.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Carlisle says, blinking up at her.

“You need to get Edward.” Rosalie crosses her arms. Esme enters the room, and Carlisle can tell from her expression that she heard a conversation that he missed. She looks worried, her eyes flickering to the ceiling where Edward’s room is.

“You’d better go,” she agrees. “Give the baby to mommy, he needs a change.”

Jasper is transferred between them again, happy to get back to his mommy’s arms. Carlisle will never be the favourite parent there, but that’s alright. He loves all his children equally. But now his worry for Edward is sharper, wondering what he missed in his preoccupation with Jasper’s breathing.

“Is he alright?” Carlisle asks, already halfway up the stairs.

“He’s fine,” Rosalie says. “Just little,” she adds as Carlisle reaches the door to Edward’s room, the words echoing up the stairs behind him.

Carlisle knocks on the door, realizing that the music had stopped when Rosalie came up. Another thing he hadn’t noticed.

There’s no answer from the other side of the door, aside from a small intake of breath.

“Edward?” Carlisle calls. “May I come in?”

Again, no response.

Carlisle pushes the door open cautiously, and sees Edward curled up on the floor under a heavy blanket. His tapes are spread around him, his headphones discarded on the floor and his tape player in one hand. He’s staring blankly at the wall, and doesn’t respond to Carlisle’s entrance.

“Edward?” Carlisle approaches slowly. “Are you alright?”

Slowly, Edward pulls the blanket over his face, hiding from Carlisle entirely.

“Do you not want to have a family evening? You don’t have to regress if you don’t feel like it. You can come read to your siblings, or you can stay here.” Carlisle knows that his worry must be clear to Edward, his words all but useless when Edward can read the flow of his thoughts. Even though the two of them are adept at voiceless conversation, especially in front of humans or even members of the family, Carlisle has always preferred to speak aloud when he’s alone with Edward. Still, he knows his mind is whirling with the questions he keeps unsaid. What happened? What’s wrong? How can I help?

The pile of blanket on the floor doesn’t move, giving Carlisle nothing to read.

“Do you want me to leave?” Carlisle asks, quietly enough that the family members downstairs wouldn’t be able to hear him.

Finally, a movement: a pale hand reaches towards Carlisle from under the blanket, splayed fingers in a wordless command. Don’t go.

“Alright.” Carlisle keeps his words voiceless, quiet enough that a human wouldn’t be able to hear. “I’ll stay.” He folds himself up and kneels next to Edward, and begins breathing to pass the time. The children downstairs are laughing about something, probably at Emmett’s expense if his angry reply is any indication. Esme is singing to Jasper, her voice drifting through the other noises. Esme’s voice was incredible when she was a human woman, and she has only improved since her death.

Carlisle quiets his mind, letting his awareness drift to the sensation of breath. Edward has often said that he enjoys being near Carlisle when he meditates, finding the relative calm of his thoughts a welcome break. Carlisle lets his worry drift freely in his mind, neither rejecting nor focusing on it. He can hear Edward beginning to match his breath, and he slows the rhythm further.

“I’m sorry,” Edward whispers.

Carlisle casts his eyes towards his hidden son, keeping his mind clear and restful. “Will you tell me what troubles you, Edward?”

“I can’t.” Edward pulls the blanket down and turns his face towards Carlisle.

Vampires are unable to cry, just as they are unable to eat or sleep. But they still remember what it was to cry, and Edward’s breath becomes shaky as their eyes meet, his face crumpling with the anticipation of tears that will never come again.

“Edward,” Carlisle breathes, his chest aching with the memory of what sympathy felt like when he was alive. “Please, may I hold you?”

Edward nods, stretching out his hand again, and Carlisle is beside him in less than a millisecond, lifting his son into his arms and cradling him close.

“What do you need, Edward?” he whispers against his son’s forehead. “I can deny you nothing.”

“Father,” Edward manages, and buries his face in Carlisle’s chest.

“My son,” Carlisle says, smoothing Edward’s hair back. “Hush, I’m here. My precious boy.” Edward’s body shakes with imagined sobs, and Carlisle continues his soft reassurances. “You’re alright. I’m here, Edward. You have me.” He focuses on the physical sensations: the weight of Edward against him, the silk of his hair under his fingers. The amount of fondness he feels for this boy, his son, his first family member, overwhelms him. He presses his forehead to Edward’s, cupping the boy’s cheeks.

“I love you,” he tells him.

“I know,” Edward says, bringing his hands up to mirror Carlisle’s. “Thank you.” His voice sounds broken.

Carlisle doesn’t know how long they sit there, fingers intertwined and foreheads pressed together. Edward’s breathing evens out, and the sounds from downstairs continue. Carlisle fills his mind with love and lets Edward drink in his unwavering affection, surrounding the two of them with contentment.

Finally, Edward takes a final deep breath and sits back on his heels, blinking his eyes.

Vampires are denied the emotional release of tears, and the emotional rest of sleep. They have no escape from awareness, and for those who feel their inhumanity as deeply as the Cullens, a deep fatigue sets in through the years. That’s why family night is so important, as well as the smaller distractions of sparring matches and baseball games. The fatigue eases for a while, when you are caring and being cared for. When things are simple, and easy.

“Can I be younger tonight?” Edward asks, finally seeming centered enough to ask the question that must have been weighing on him all day, if not longer.

“Of course,” Carlisle answers without hesitation. “How young?” You don’t need to know, he adds without words. We can always figure it out as we go.

“Like Jasper,” Edward says, and puts the ridge of his thumb into his mouth. “Is that okay?”

“Absolutely.” Carlisle offers a hand, and Edward clasps it tight. “Do you want to stay upstairs, or see your siblings?”

“Will they laugh?” Edward says quietly. It’s a fair question: the other Cullen siblings enjoy mocking Edward when they’re all adults, and Rosalie likes to make fun of the only older sibling when they’re small.

“They won’t laugh,” Carlisle answers in the same undertone. “I’m sure of it.”

“Then I’d like to be with them,” Edward nods.

“I’m sure your mother would love to see you,” Carlisle says, squeezing Edward’s hand. “Now, should we get you changed?”

Edward nods wordlessly, casting his eyes to the ground.

“Brave boy,” Carlisle praises, and gets to his feet, scooping Edward into his arms.

Edward flinches and wraps all of his limbs around Carlisle, making Carlisle laugh slightly. Such an extreme response when he’s seen Edward dive off cliffs with no hesitation. His boy must be very regressed already. No wonder Edward struggled so much to ask his question.

Carlisle sings one of his favourite lullabies as he carries Edward down the hallway to the boys’ room. Edward doesn’t wear very different clothes when he regresses, so he doesn’t have a regression closet. They’ll have to steal from the younger brothers for now, and find some new outfits for Edward later if this will be a repeated experience.

Carlisle beelines for the dresser and scoops a pacifier from the back of one of the drawers. Jasper doesn’t use them, and the pacifier has lain unused since it was tried and rejected. Edward has been chewing on his thumb ever since Carlisle picked him up, and Carlisle has a feeling the abandoned pacifier might finally have a use. He presses the pacifier to Edward’s lips, gentle enough for it to be refused, and Edward accepts it.

“Good,” Carlisle says, pressing a kiss to Edward’s temple. “Now let’s get you changed.”

He sits Edward on the changing table, and the boy curls into himself slightly. Carlisle breezes past Edward’s uncertainty, moving through the familiar motions of disrobing him and fastening a diaper around his hips, patting the tape into place.

“Safe and sound,” Carlisle murmurs. “Would you like a shirt or pyjamas, sweetheart?”

Edward blinks up at him, and sucks on the pacifier.

“Pyjamas it is,” Carlisle says, unable to hide the fondness in his voice. He finds one of the darker onesies hanging in the closet and guides Edward’s limbs into it, patting the baby’s belly before doing up the buttons. Edward squirms a little, but more in amusement than in protest.

Carlisle chuckles at his reaction and scoops the boy back into his arms.

“Let’s go see your big brother and sisters, hmm?” he says to Edward. “I think they have some guppies on.” Edward usually hates sitting around when his siblings are watching cartoons, pretending to read a book somewhere apart or convince his siblings to gather around and listen to him read. But today he perks up at the mention of cartoons, eyes widening with interest.

“Do you want to sit with your mother?” Carlisle suggests, careful to hold Edward steady on his hip as they make their way down the stairs. “I’m sure she’d love to spend time with her baby boy.” Edward clings to Carlisle’s shoulders. “Ah, fair enough.” Carlisle can’t help smiling at the boy’s attachment, even though he’s sure that he’ll change his tune once he sees Esme.

“Hi daddy,” Alice calls distractedly when they enter. Emmett and Rosalie both glance up briefly from the screen and then return to their cartoons without comment. Edward is hiding his face in Carlisle’s neck, and Carlisle can feel the slight rocking of the pacifier as Edward gets the hang of sucking on it.

“Hello angels,” Carlisle replies, and makes his way to the couch behind the children, where Esme is sitting with Jasper cross-legged on the ground between her legs, his head leaning against Esme’s knee so that she can pet his hair while he watches the cartoons.

“Good to see you two,” Esme says quietly, under the noise of the cartoon. “I was worried.”

“This little one needed changing,” Carlisle says, sitting down and trying to rearrange Edward in his arms, who is still determinedly hiding against him. “Edward, come out and say hello to your mother,” he teases, flicking one finger against Edward’s neck.

Edward wiggles, displeased with the attempt to tickle him, and finally turns his face sideways.

Esme gasps softly. “Oh, darling boy.” She reaches out to cup Edward’s face, and the boy lets her. “Look at my baby.” Carlisle smiles at the two of them, as Edward shifts towards Esme on the couch and she helps him into her lap, careful not to dislodge Jasper’s place on the floor at her feet. “There, let me hold you,” Esme coos, pressing him against herself.

She would be crying, Carlisle reflects, if she were still able. There is something about Edward trusting them with this, after so long and so many siblings. They have spent so many decades together, physically unchanging, and yet they are still growing and learning about each other. It is an unimaginable gift from the universe, one that Carlisle will never take for granted.

As Edward smiles around the pacifier and Emmett yells something at the screen, Carlisle leans back on the couch and lets his gaze travel around his family, a serenity deeper than meditation settling in his chest. This is his family first, and his Clan second, and he would do absolutely anything to keep them safe.

#twilight agere #fandom agere #agere writing #agere fanfiction #agere stories #sfw agere #my writing #my fics #twilight

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angelanimedesaray · 4 years ago

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Investment Part 6: Another Treatment

AN: There’s a bit of a time skip in this chapter. Also, since we’re finally seeing the budding of the relationship between Levi and Reader, I just want to take a moment to remind everyone this story was started with a groundwork for a relationship already laid out between Reader and Levi, as it was established that there was a mutual care for one another in the first chapter before shit hit the fan.

Sorry if this seems to go a little rushed, but I couldn’t really think of something solid to go in between these events to draw it out, so it all got put into one chapter.

Characters: Vampire!Levi, Erwin, Hange, Reader, Various BG Characters

Pairing: Vampire!Levi x Reader

Warnings: Language, Violence, Blood, Death, Blood Drinking, Injury

Word Count: 9171

<----Previous Part Masterlist

*Levi's POV*

After so long where feeding was his outlet, where he let his control slip away and his emotions take over, it was strange to have to force himself to try and stop before he killed his prey. Even when he was feeding off the lowest scum in the Underground, he found it difficult to pull away, too bent on satiating his hunger when he was hunting to focus on the much-needed goal.

The pressure on him to change his diet had increased significantly since the expedition, and while he finally had a solid idea of what he was going to do about it, he needed to be able to stop himself, first. If he couldn't even do that with this low quality blood, how could he expect to stop when the clean stuff was dangled in front of him?

But for this to work, he had to make sure he could stop, first.

Of course, no one but Y/N knew how truly difficult it was for Levi to stop himself once he had a taste. They kept pushing, not aware of how difficult of a task stopping was for him. They were too focused on how potent the rumors of The Ripper below ground were becoming, with Erwin officially worried about the body count Levi seemed to have racked up...

"Levi, this is getting out of hand. You can't keep going to the Underground to feed, the attention is too much, and that diet won't keep you satiated much longer."

"What do you expect me to do about it, Erwin? Either we keep pushing despite the risk until I'm ready, or bodies start showing up above ground. We both know that will be much hotter water than what I'm in right now."

"I get that it's not an easy thing to break, but you're almost out of time, Levi. Do something about it, before it's too late for us to help you any more."

Levi growled in the darkness, pulling the prey currently in his hands away with effort, the only sign of life a few twitches and the still-running blood pushed through a large wound from a weak heartbeat. They were on death’s door, no longer conscious, moments from death.

It wasn’t good enough. He needed to stop sooner, he needed to stop before they were on death’s door. The diet he wanted to shift to depended entirely upon his restraint and being able to stop himself from killing the people he fed off--he couldn’t afford to be leaving them in states like this.

Hell, it would help to make it a little less painful for them, too.

Frustrated, Levi ripped back into his current prey’s throat, the body twitching beneath him before going completely still, the life finally leaving them entirely. After that, he fed in silence, sullen mood dissipating as he temporarily lost himself in the end of his feed.

*Reader’s POV*

Approaching Hange’s office quickly turned from a normal part of your routine to something you were doing with apprehension when you heard the raised voices inside. Not the usual excited raised voice Hange could have when she got particularly carried away--this was angry, frustrated conversation.

And the other raised voice--not shouting and screaming, but still raised, which was scary by itself--was Levi’s voice.

They were at least not reaching the point where the details of their conversation could be sussed out, but the argument was clear, and people seemed to be avoiding this hall. Considering the few touchy subjects you knew they could get into an argument like this about right now, you were reluctant to walk into the middle of it.

“I knew you could be pig-headed, but this is getting ridiculous!”

“It’s not ridiculous--you’re out of your damn mind if you think I’m going to let you pull a stunt like that.”

“Levi, we’re at the point where I’m not going to be able to help you more without seeing you in action.”

“Hange--”

You went into the room at that point, both of them pausing in their argument momentarily at your appearance. Levi turned partially towards you, about to say something before he decided it was the best time to drive the point home, turning quickly back to Hange.

“It’s out of the question, Hange, it’s too dangerous, despite what your crazy theories are telling you,” he snapped after you’d shut the door again.

“Y/N, back me up here! There’s so much we still don’t know, but I can’t even start looking into it if he won’t let me see him feed,” Hange practically begged, and your skin crawled at the topic.

Of course they were arguing about this.

“Leave her out of this, Hange, this is about your suicidal impulses--”

“But Levi--”

“You are not following me into the Underground to watch me kill people!” Levi hissed venomously.

“You’re going to have to let me see you in action eventually. And if you go forward with this plan of yours for your diet change, then I’m not going to have another chance to see before you move on from the Underground! It has to be within the next few times you go down there, or I’m not going to be able to help you anymore.”

“She has a point, Levi,” You ventured to say carefully, even though you knew you had one of the best reasons to side with Levi on this. He shot you a disbelieving look that you were taking her side in the matter, his eyes turning stormy.

“It’s too dangerous,” he said flatly. “I know how you are with Titans, Hange. If you get too close, or if you get even a little hurt when I’m focused on hunting, it could be over in seconds,” Levi said bitingly.

“I can handle myself, Levi--” Hange started to scoff, but you cut in again to correct her.

“Levi also has a point, Hange. You have less time to react with his speed than you do with a Titan. It is dangerous, and you can’t go into it lightly,” you said softly, your quiet tone forcing both of them to calm down by having to quiet and settle to listen to what you had to say. “And even though we gloss over it all the time, he is killing people. It’s not like your Titan experiments.”

You had to watch what you said, careful not to let your thoughts spill out that compared being excited to watch Levi hunt in the Underground to being excited to let a Titan loose and watch it eat someone. That was not a comparison you wanted to make with Levi--no one wanted to make the Titan comparisons to whatever had happened to Levi, but it was glaring, and you were certain everyone had at least thought of them.

The mood in the room shifted from tense to grim, and you took advantage of the silence to push a little in Hange’s favor.

“But Hange has a point about needing to see what happens when you feed. Most of her current questions and theories revolve around that, so you are going to have to let it happen eventually. And your plan for what to do besides feed off people in the Underground will make it impossible for her to tag along,” you told Levi pointedly.

“That doesn’t help settle the debate, Y/N, we’re still in the same rut. It’s too dangerous, but it is necessary,” Hange said in exasperation.

“How about this, then,” you said with a sigh, turning to look at Levi. “I know you don’t like the thought of it, but have Hange and Erwin follow, at least one time. That way there’s someone to keep her in check...Not to mention, it’ll be a good reality check,” you finished quietly, arms folded over your chest.

You could have suggested that you came along, but after last time, you weren’t keen to follow him on another hunt. Not to mention, you’d promised you’d never follow him on one again...and you didn’t think you could stomach witnessing it, even with the progress you were making in coping with your trauma from last time.

You were aware that you’d just significantly lowered the mood in the room, but it seemed everyone was keeping the truth about what was happening down there an arm’s length away from them, causing them to get out-of-touch with the reality of what happened to Levi. In your opinion, they did need a reality check to what those trips really meant. It was a horrible reality check, and you wanted desperately to not think about what they would see, but it would definitely help them approach Levi’s diet with a bit more...tact.

It wasn’t easy for him, you knew that firsthand. The bloodlust was a real and dangerous thing, and he had to be careful. They--namely Hange--wouldn’t push him so hard to do things before he was ready if they were faced with the gravity of the reality.

Ideally. Erwin was on an entirely different level, and you couldn’t predict what that man would do in any situation beyond surprise you, so you weren’t going to attempt to predict how he’d react to this reality check. You personally felt Hange needed to see it for herself. She would still be Hange, but at least she would finally know the gravity that this needed to be handled with instead of constantly having to rely upon shifty second-hand accounts.

Shifty because no one wanted to talk about what happened when Levi fed.

Hange turned back to Levi. “It sounds like a fair compromise. What do you say, Levi?”

Levi was sizing you up, trying to gauge what you were thinking and mulling over your words with a more-serious than normal feel in the air around him, expression grim. He’d been backed into a corner, now, and there was really only one way for this to go.

“Fine,” he relented, teeth grit and grinding against one another. “One time. That’s it.”

Hange brightened with glee at the thought of finally getting to observe Levi’s recent change in action like she’d been chomping at the bit to do for so long. “Great! You’re going back down in less than a week, right? We’ll go then--I’ll get everything arranged with Erwin.”

Levi let out a long-suffering sigh as Hange darted around the room to grab a few papers before rushing out the door, leaving just you and Levi in the room. He--understandably--looked gloomy and grim, apprehensive about the entire thing. Based on your own experience and what Hange had told you about her experiences, you knew he was not keen on letting Hange and Erwin see him like that.

Everyone was keeping the reality of the situation at arm’s length, and it was about time they all faced it. Strange how you were the one making the push for that confrontation.

“Look, I know it’s not at all what you want to do, but I think at this point, it’s needed. Everyone can’t keep turning a blind eye to the uglier side of this, it will only make things worse,” you told him, breaking the silence in the room. Levi didn’t say anything, his head turned away, holding perfectly still where he was leaning against one of the tables. “At least it will only be this one time.”

Levi turned to look at you, his eyes enough to tell you that you both knew if Hange got the chance or thought of a way, she would push for more. But what neither of them were talking about was the concern thick in the air about how they would react to this--Levi included. Up until now he’d been able to keep them relatively in the dark about his transformation--at least in what it looked like. Now they were going to see it in action as he ripped into and killed someone. Even if he wouldn’t admit it, he was probably terrified at what that was going to do to the relationship between the three of them.

You straightened, turning to the door. “Well...when it happens, and you come back, I’ll be in the mess hall with some tea if you want to talk afterwards. Or just want some company.”

Maybe it would help if afterwards he had some company with someone who had been on the receiving end and was still accepting of him nonetheless, even if you were still working through the forgiveness process to forgive him fully.

That night, your nightmares returned. They had lessened to off and on occurrences since the expedition, thanks to Levi’s efforts to apologize and the comfort he had offered that night after your nightmare. It wasn’t a complete cure, but you were getting better.

However, the argument between Hange and Levi about watching him hunt and the discussion had riled your bad memories, making it almost predictable that you would have a nightmare tonight.

As such, you awoke with a cry to your darkened room, squeezing your eyes shut and fumbling for the light to try and give yourself a bubble of protection while your panicked heart rate evened out and your mind reassured itself there wasn’t anything in the darkness lying in wait to pounce on you.

After a few moments, you managed to strike the match and light the lamp, providing you with a little light to push the shadows further away, giving you enough confidence to open your eyes. You ran your fingers through your hair, trying to get your breathing under control again.

You sat alone on your bed in the same position for what must have been several long minutes before a soft knock on your door had you raising your head.

He came again, then.

Grabbing the oil lamp that was sitting on the nightstand beside your bed, you shimmied out of bed and made your way quickly through the dark room to the door, unlocking it and stepping aside to let Levi inside.

Since coming back from the expedition, Levi was being more proactive in making things up to you. Maybe he didn't know exactly how to go about it, but he was still making an effort. When he spoke with you, his usual brisk, blunt way of speaking was softened. And when you had one of your nightmares…

Levi pressed a warm cup into your hand, taking the oil lamp from you once his hand was free, considering he had a cup of his own in his other hand.

"Go back to sleep when you're done with that," he told you quietly as he stepped inside, giving you enough space to shut the door behind him while you took a sip from your cup.

Like routine, Levi found his way to the desk in your room, setting down the lamp and his cup while you shuffled over to the bed. He sat down with a sigh at your desk, hand lingering over the cup as he watched you quietly for a few moments.

When you finished the tea, you settled back into your bed, turned so that you were facing where Levi sat.

It was an odd arrangement, perhaps, but since the expedition, this was what happened when your night terrors were bad enough to wake you. Levi would knock on your door minutes later if you hadn't managed to calm down, a calming tea for you in hand, and he would stay in the room as a reassurance that none of the demons that plagued you, waking or sleeping, were going to hurt you. Because he was right there, and he was going to stay there until you were truly okay. He didn't say much, and sometimes he brought paperwork to do while he was there, but for the most part, he would simply sit quietly at your desk keeping an eye on you, nothing more.

Facing the light and Levi helped to keep you calm as your mind slowly settled, your heart rate that had been pounding with anxiety gradually calming down. Your eyelids fluttered as you started to drift off towards sleep, watching Levi contently as he sipped on his tea and stewed on his thoughts. The slight curve downwards of his lips told you he was probably still thinking about Hange and Erwin coming along the next time he went to the Underground to feed. It was still bothering him, and she felt it would continue to bother him up to and most likely after it happened.

You hoped, all things considered, it wouldn’t turn out terribly. Levi had enough on his plate without worrying about how this could change how Erwin and Hange saw him.

*Levi’s POV*

Irritable and sullen was an understatement for how Levi felt as he led the way down to the Underground, Erwin and Hange flanking him in plain cloaks similar to his own, hoods drawn. They were supposed to stick close to him all the way down, at least until he had his target. At that point, he’d tell them where to go and break off to trap his prey on his own. Ideally, they would arrive where he told them to before it was over, but after he had his prey pinned so that they wouldn’t interfere with the actual hunt.

While Erwin and Levi pressed forward unfazed by their surroundings, Hange’s head was on a swivel, looking around at the Underground for the first time. Erwin kept her focused for the most part, occasionally having to pull her back into their group while Levi ignored them both, doing his best to put their presence out of his mind. Besides, he needed to focus in order to find who he was going to corner tonight--because of all the deaths recently, the criminals with brains were trying to be more subtle about their crimes instead of committing them out in the open, hoping that would help them dodge The Ripper.

Levi’s mood darkened further as the moniker flashed through his mind, sulking through the streets as he listened intently for a sign of trouble.

At least Erwin and Hange knew they could be down here for a little while before Levi managed to find someone up to no good that he wouldn’t mind preying upon.

“You really just come down here and wander until you find someone?” Hange eventually piped up after they’d been wandering for what felt like an hour. It looked like they were walking aimlessly, but Levi was being careful to bring a new part of the Underground within range of his hearing while they walked, covering new ground in his search for trouble.

“There’s always trouble down here if you know where to look,” Levi murmured in a low voice, gaze sweeping across the streets. They seemed more deserted than normal. Had his predatory presence made that much of an impact down here already?

As much as he hated to admit it and he knew he wasn’t in a position to try and force the change, Hange and Erwin were right--he needed to ditch the Underground diet as soon as possible and switch to his low risk plan.

This might have been a night that would go easier if he had taken the time to poke around and hear about some cruel top dog in one of the Underground criminal elements, that way he had a predetermined target he simply had to locate instead of wandering around waiting for an act of violence to happen. With most of the rats in hiding after the arrival of a cat, he was either going to have to start finding targets, or…

At long last, he heard a commotion that fit his criteria for a target. It was a little ways away, but the volume of hysterical screaming and crying made the words ring clear in his ears and painted a clear picture in his mind, expression darkening dangerously beneath his hood.

“Mommy!”

“Get the hell away from my son you sick son of a bitch! Get out!”

“Listen here you slut--”

“I’ll kill you myself--Don’t you ever come near us again! Get out! Out! Out!”

Levi spoke up, his tone low and dangerous and he interrupted whatever quiet conversation Erwin and Hange had been having behind him. “There’s a warehouse two streets over. I’ll be there in a few moments,” he deadpanned before abruptly breaking away from their group, stalking in the direction of the screaming at a jog before he turned a corner and it blurred into a run, the streets bleeding away at inhuman speeds as he rushed towards the sound of the commotion that seemed to be escalating in the home itself. Normally he’d wait until the creep was on the streets to snatch up his prey, but he was going to make an exception in this case, before anyone else got hurt.

With the sounds of someone getting thrown around inside, Levi busted through the door, prompting a shriek of panic. Making sure his face couldn’t be seen, he grabbed the man who had gotten himself marked for death, dragging him out the door and throwing him into the street before he grabbed the man by the throat, taking off at a full sprint and dragging the man along as he rushed for the warehouse.

When he reached the building he’d told Erwin and Hange to wait for him in, he threw his catch through the window, hearing a shout of surprise inside the building which told him Erwin and Hange were indeed already inside.

The man--now bleeding, judging by the smell in the air--attempted to plead with Hange and Erwin for help.

Hmm, he probably should have just dragged him through the door to try and avoid them getting even briefly dragged into the actual act.

“Please, The Ripper, he’s after me, please--”

Agitated by the use of that awful name, Levi followed close behind his now wounded prey, jumping cleanly through the shattered window and landing gracefully with a crunch of glass the only sound he made. His prey shrieked and clawed at Erwin’s shirt desperately in a last plea for help from the two people just standing there before Levi ripped his prey off Erwin and tossed him back several feet. His foot planted itself on his prey’s chest before they could even sit up, dark eyes boring down on him with his head tilted to the side as he debated the best way to go about this, every passing moment allowing him to put more and more distance between himself and his humanity as he let his monstrous instincts take charge.

Nothing about this hunt was normal, though. The entire thing was emotionally charged, with people he considered himself close to seeing this vicious, inhumane side of him he’d been hoping to keep hidden. It made the entire matter feel more personal, which was why he was desperately attempting to abandon his emotions and focus on the hunt.

He was, admittedly, playing with his food a little, though he was doing it between a mix of rage over what he had interrupted, and because Hange needed to see what happened when Levi let this new monstrous side of himself take over. It gave her time to observe like she wanted so badly to do.

“Is there anything in particular you need to see?” he asked in a monotone voice, his foot still holding down his prey effortlessly as the man struggled and cried trying to get free. When he didn’t initially get an answer, he turned to look at Hange to make it clear she was the one he was addressing.

Hange’s eyes went wide--even Erwin’s did, where he was standing just behind her--when Levi turned to look at her. Judging by the ache in his jaw from the scent of spilled blood and his hunger, and the fact he was on the verge of feeding, he knew his eyes were most likely glowing red in the darkness. Taken aback by the sight, it took a moment for Hange to respond, Erwin’s gaze sliding to her with her hesitation and Levi’s hunger-driven impatience causing him to shift his foot higher and press down on his prey’s throat to silence the blubbering.

“I...I just need to observe, for once,” Hange said in a serious voice, pulling herself back together and snapping to attention after Levi’s foot silenced the man beneath him. At that Levi picked up his prey--lovely, they’d pissed themselves--and shoved him up against a pillar with a low snarl, lips pulled back to show his fangs.

“But we could...also test the theory that you heal faster when you’re feeding,” Hange added hastily before he could bite into the sobbing man.

Levi turned slightly to glare back at Hange, that ravenous monster inside him already chomping at the bit to rip this man’s throat out and aggravated that it kept getting stopped. In his momentary distraction, the man Levi was keeping pinned grabbed the unlit torch on the pillar above them, ripped it down, and stabbed it blindly into Levi’s torso.

Now, Levi had been stabbed before, but the amount of pain that came from the mostly blunt edge of a wooden torch being stabbed into his chest was excruciating--and he’d been impaled by now. Of course, then he’d had the luxury of shock to numb the pain. This time, he felt every moment of it.

Levi recoiled with a gasp of pain, his prey slipping through his fingers and attempting to bolt down the hall. A wild snarl ripped past Levi’s lips as he pulled the torch out of his body and tossed it carelessly aside, eyes flashing as he darted towards the prey trying to escape.

Levi cut him off in the darkness, standing directly in front of the man and grabbing his chin, forcing his head aside before he hissed, fangs flashing moment’s before burying into his prey’s neck.

Any other parts of the world drowned out as Levi quickly lost himself in the feed, the rush of fresh blood soothing any pain he’d had from the stab. He was aware of the man bleating in his ear, so his hand shifted to force his mouth close and muffle the sound, his other hand stretching the exposed skin of his neck wider to give Levi a prime opening for his jugular. Blood trailed down the back of the man’s neck as Levi greedily gulped down what he could, initially thinking he would simply drain the man dry and move on.

However, he was still trying to stop himself before a person would pass the point of dying. He wasn’t sure now was the time for that experiment, but for the sake of his own progress away from this nightmare and not giving himself the chance to slip, Levi tried.

His prey was fighting back, fists pounding against Levi’s unmoving chest and arms, fingers clawing at him and drawing blood, but Levi didn’t move. If anything, it made him clamp down harder, feeling the struggles grow weaker and weaker…

While he still had enough strength to pound weakly against Levi’s chest, Levi managed to pull himself back, blood smeared across his lips and teeth with his tongue licking away stray drops, all thoughts of an audience forgotten as a slight groan escaped him.

Hold...hold...hold…

Once he was certain he’d paused long enough he would have been able to pull away if he so desired, Levi sank his teeth back into his prey at a much better angle this time. The pulls of blood he took were hard and long, his prey quickly going limp and turning cold in his arms as Levi bled him dry of his lifeblood, until he couldn’t draw any more blood without chewing on the man’s flesh like he’d done several times out of pure instinct when he’d first started feeding.

At that point, Levi let the body drop, stepping back with heavy breaths of air now that he was no longer gulping down blood, hand coming up instinctively to keep any wet blood from dribbling down his chin, licking up the traces around his mouth that he could reach, tongue careful of his still exposed fangs, before he pulled out a dark red handkerchief to wipe up anything he’d missed.

Levi wasn’t looking up at his audience he’d forgotten about in the midst of the feed, keeping his head down and focused on himself as he checked himself over to see how much of a mess he’d made. He was still getting blood down his chin and throat, and some around his collar, but he was no longer smearing blood all down his front.

He was nearly there, nearly able to leave this gruesome approach behind in favor of a more forgiving treatment for his curse.

But for now, he had two friends who had just seen him slowly murder a man in front of them for blood. Hearing about it was one thing. Seeing it in action...was entirely different.

“Did you get what you wanted so badly, Hange?” Levi asked as his handkerchief mopped up the blood attempting to stain his skin, his tone hollow--and not the kind of hollow that suggested he felt nothing over what he’d just done. It was more like...he felt something inside him dying, and he worried there wasn’t anything he could do to stop it.

“Levi…”

Levi finally looked up, swallowing hard at the looks of fear he could see in their eyes. Shutting down the thoughts of why they were looking at him that way before it could crack his composure, Levi stepped over the body and approached Hange, spreading open the hole in his shirt where he’d been stabbed so she could see it was already healed with a quickly disappearing scar.

“Looks like Y/N’s theory was right,” he said bluntly, turning partially back to the body. “You can head back. I’ll clean up here.”

“But we--” Hange reached out to grab his sleeve and stop him as he started to walk towards the body, but Levi shrugged her off without looking back. He didn’t want to see that look in their eyes while they stared at him any more than he had to.

“Discussion can come tomorrow. Take the night,” Levi returned before she could suggest they talk about this right now. He’d rather they both had time to process what they’d seen and for emotions to cool before discussing how he’d just murdered a man so casually...and cruelly.

He’d known this was a bad idea, that it wouldn’t end well, that it would do damage in an entirely different kind of way. But he’d been ganged up on and had to relent, and now here they were.

Levi crouched down next to the body in the darkness, mind already coming up with clever places to hide it as Erwin quietly spoke to Hange and got her to leave Levi be, guiding her away from the scene and back into the night.

Levi’s gaze lowered to his hands, the bloodied handkerchief still held in one hand, the bloodstains hard to catch with the color cloth he’d chosen.

I did it to survive, he was a stain on humanity, it was going to be someone, better him than an innocent...

So started the rationalization to help ease the guilt, except this time he couldn’t get the looks in their eyes out of his head, and the many things he tried to tell himself weren’t sticking properly.

How far from human have I drifted?

*Reader’s POV*

You were at the mess hall table for hours, trying your damndest not to fall asleep while you waited for Levi. Sure, it wasn’t a guarantee that he was going to show up after the hunt since you’d simply made an offer for companionship if he wanted it, but you wanted to make sure you were here if he decided to take you up on the offer. As such, you kept getting up to make tea as a way to keep yourself awake, nibbling on a small loaf of bread you’d pilfered from the food storage. Picking at it kept your hands busy, and eating the tiny pieces gave you something to do besides stare blankly into the darkness.

You looked up sharply when you heard the door creak open, relieved to see it was, in fact, Levi who was walking inside, his eyes downcast, expression mostly hidden in darkness. He seemed to still be wearing what he’d been in when he left, cloak and all, as he walked past the table you were sitting at and into the back, likely to make himself a cup of tea before joining you. He didn’t acknowledge you in any way, though you knew he knew you were there.

You’d known this was going to be rough for him, but this was giving you a foreboding feeling in your gut.

After several minutes spent in silence, Levi reappeared with his cloak draped over one arm and his cup in hand, taking a seat on the opposite side of the table, almost at the other end. He set his cup down carefully against the table and laid the cloak on the back of the chair next to him, and now that he was within range of the light of the lamp you’d lit on the table, you could see a hole in his shirt around his upper chest.

“Did something happen?” you asked in concern, nodding towards the tear. Levi glanced down at the hole, taking a short sip from his tea.

“I got distracted,” he said bluntly, his voice quiet and hardly piercing the dark silence between the two of you. As the silence settled once more between the two of you, you gazed at him in concern, thinking about his slightly disheveled appearance, the solemn air around him, his quiet tone that lacked it’s usual snarky bite, the hollow look in his eyes, the way his shoulders seemed slightly hunched forward.

You were worried about him. No, worried wasn’t strong enough. You might have been on the brink of being afraid for him, with that look in his eyes.

Just when you thought you wouldn’t be able to take the depressing silence any longer, Levi finally spoke up, though his words did nothing to brighten the mood.

“I’m running out of things to tell myself.”

At first, his words didn’t make much sense. What was he talking about? You studied his face closely as he gazed into his cup, trying to discern his inner thoughts based off context clues. He had just come back from a hunt, and considering his stance on human life, his current attitude, and what made this one so different, you could come up with a few guesses.

He could be talking about how he saw himself after what happened, or about hunting in general. Having to go out regularly and find someone to kill in order to survive was no doubt taking a toll on him, even if he tried to make it less terrible by choosing to go after bad people.

Were the rationalizations for what he was doing not enough anymore?

Whatever it was, specifically, that he meant, he was in pain. Pain wasn’t the emotion he was wearing openly right now, but you were certain it was there, even if it was buried under the gloom and solemnness. And he was coming to you, now, like you’d offered. But what could you possibly offer him at a time like this to help ease that pain? He would be going back to repeat the process within the next week, with how unsustainable his current diet had become, and he would continue to go back to kill someone until he could switch to another method that ideally was less of a risk.

Not to mention, you had the feeling he didn’t want to talk about what happened down there tonight, if the look in his eyes was anything to go by.

You scooted down a seat so you were a little closer, the rustling of your movement loud in the silence before you settled down again, now within arm’s reach of Levi. He hadn’t looked up from his drink, yet, but you didn’t need him to, not right away. Carefully, you reached out and put your hand over his, feeling him twitch underneath you at the gentle, almost intimate gesture. You waited until he finally looked up at you, a question in his eyes at what you were doing, why you were touching him like this.

“I forgive you,” you told him sincerely, your words soft even in contrast to the silence of the room.

It was a bit of a switch after what he’d just stated. The only reason why your words weren’t confusing was because you both knew what you had to forgive him for. It might not necessarily have to do with what was on his mind right now, but it was one of the many weights dragging him down right now. If there was ever a time he needed to be free of it so he wouldn’t drown, it was now.

Levi’s eyes widened marginally, lips parting in surprise before his eyes darkened and dulled, and he looked away, hand starting to pull free from under yours. “Maybe you shouldn’t.”

“Maybe,” you admitted, reaching out to hold onto his hand a little more firmly before he could fully retreat, giving it a small squeeze of reassurance. “But I have. I’m the one who decides if I can forgive you or not, and I have. Not out of pity, either, so don’t get that twisted. I forgave you in my heart a while ago. I just needed to say it out loud.”

When Levi didn’t outwardly react, you pushed a little more, just to be sure that you were getting it through to him. Right now, you needed him to know that you forgave him. You needed him to know that you didn’t hold any malice in your heart for him after what happened.

“Levi...I forgive you,” you stressed to him quietly.

Levi cleared his throat, pulling his hand free of your grasp and using it to pick up his tea so you couldn’t grab his hand again.

You could tell him you forgave him all you wanted. That didn’t mean he could forgive himself and accept it, yet.

What the hell happened down there that had put Levi in this state? You were going to have to talk to Hange in the morning about this, if only so you could get on the same page as everyone else.

Once more the silence permeated the air around them, with you sitting quietly with Levi, concern for him growing stronger with every passing moment. When he was just about out of tea, you decided you needed to speak up before he had an excuse to leave before you could make a visible difference in his mood.

You didn’t expect to make him smile and laugh, but you at least didn’t want to feel that air of self-loathing hovering around him.

“Why don’t you tell me about your plan--the one so you don’t have to keep hunting in the Underground,” you suggested, a hand coming up to rest your head against.

“You already know it.”

“Tell me again, anyway.”

Maybe talking about what almost was, his alternative that would free him from killing people regularly, would help ease his mind, at least a little. He wasn’t the kind of person to let this body count go, but if he could be reminded by himself that it wasn’t going to last forever, maybe it would help to soothe his conscience.

Levi sighed, as if repeating himself was a great annoyance he would rather avoid. For a moment, you thought he would refuse, but thankfully he decided to humor you.

“I’ve been looking for people that no one listens to, that others write off as ‘crazy,’ or people who can’t say anything. If no one listens to them on a normal day, then no one is going to think anything of it if they ramble about some creature taking their blood. Especially if there’s no evidence to prove it’s happening. I’m learning to stop before killing someone and to be cleaner so I can feed off someone without leaving more than a bite mark or the ramblings of a crazy person behind as evidence. Since my blood can apparently heal someone without turning them into what I am, I can make the bite disappear by giving them a little blood. No one dies, no one that will be believed outs me, I stay fed and get a better quality blood in the process. That’s the theory, anyway. We won’t know until I try, and I can’t try until I can stop myself and feed without getting blood everywhere.”

“Do you already have some names?” you asked him, prompting him to keep talking and get his mind off the present by focusing how he was going to improve his situation in the future.

“Some. It’s mostly the elderly or the sick, considering what I’m looking for. You’d be surprised how few we actually have behind the walls.”

Now it was just a matter of him having enough control not to accidentally kill someone while feeding. You had the strong sense now wasn’t the time to be saying that out loud, though, so you kept that comment to yourself.

“Well, it sounds like you’re almost ready to start. It won’t be much longer, then,” you said instead, soft gaze still watching Levi’s features. He seemed to have grown slightly more at ease, as you’d hoped, but that grimness was still hanging over him.

His tea now finished, Levi got to his feet, gathering his stuff to clean up after himself before he finally met your gaze again, eyes softening slightly when he looked at you. “It’s late. Get some sleep,” he said simply before leaving you alone in the mess hall.

The next day, you were somehow the one to go to Hange first, between you and Levi. As such, you were able to get the story from her about what happened and just how...borderline personal this hunt became between the man’s begging and Levi playing with his food. His dark mood upon his return made more sense to you, now, and Hange was still coming to terms with what she'd seen.

"I knew what he was doing down there, we talk about it while trying to learn more about what he is all the time, but seeing it was…" Hange sought out the correct words for what she was trying to say, and after a few moments, you filled it in for her.

"Horrifying? Much more real? Made things more personal?"

"I felt like I was standing by watching and letting a Titan eat someone," Hange admitted quietly. "I know it's not quite the same, at least Levi actually needs to drink blood to survive, but--"

"The comparison is still there. Believe me, I know, I've thought of it a couple times myself. I'm sure Levi is well aware of the comparison, as well."

"The scariest part was how...casual he was about the whole thing after he got his hands on them. It was like he didn't even care. I know he's mentioned he gets lost in the feed, but it was scary seeing him enjoy it that much at one point."

No matter how they looked at it, once you stripped it down to the bare bones they still had stood by and let a civilian get ripped into and drained of blood--eaten--right in front of them, not even doing anything when the man pleaded with them for help and his life. The only consolation they could give themselves was the trust that Levi had picked someone who'd done something truly awful and wasn't some innocent plucked off the streets.

"Don't think that because he's able to distance himself and surrender to instinct in the moment that makes this any easier for him," you admonished. You weren't entirely sure if that was the direction Hange was going with this, that it was concern Levi might be losing a part of himself and his humanity, but you wanted to get ahead of that assumption before it could form, if that was the case. For Levi’s sake. Even if he was losing a part of himself, it wasn’t gone yet, and you were certain it could be restored if need be. "It still weighs on him when he gets back, probably kills him on the inside, not that Levi would ever be open about that part. I don't think he could do what he needed to survive if he didn't distance himself from his humanity while he hunts. The night he turned, he was talking about hating the thought of people dying so he could live. Even if we can't see it, I think it's taken a toll on him to go down there and feed, especially as often as he does, now."

"I know. I got so wrapped up in learning more about what he is now that I didn't fully realize how difficult certain parts had to be for Levi. I know better, now. It was a…" Hange sighed, shaking her head, "reality check, as you suggested it would be."

"And Erwin?"

Hange snorted. "Erwin is Erwin, as straight faced and silent on the matter as ever. Though, even he looked disturbed last night at what we saw."

"Do you think you'll treat him any differently? He's still Levi any other time."

Hange looked up at the ceiling, pondering your words. "I think I'll treat talking about his diet and hunting a little more seriously. And I think I have more respect for what you went through and how you still manage to see Levi. It might be strange for a few days, but I'll readjust. Erwin too, I suspect."

You nodded, feeling a bit of relief at her words. You weren’t sure how you would have felt if your pushing for them to face what happened to Levi had led to a division between them, but it wouldn’t have been pretty.

"Make sure Levi knows. He had to have been worried about how you two would see him after this."

Hange’s eyes closed, and she stayed where she was sitting with her head tilted up to the ceiling for several long moments, taking a deep breath before suddenly springing to her feet.

"Enough of the depressing stuff! There is now plenty to talk about and go over about what I was able to observe, and some theories that need confirming or fleshing out. Not to mention I've finally seen his change firsthand and can make a proper record of what it looks like."

Your lips quirked slightly towards a smile, leaning back in your seat. "We should probably get started on that, then."

(Three weeks later)

*Levi’s POV*

With his hood drawn and his mind focused to a razor’s edge on the task at hand, Levi walked through the dark streets of one of the many towns inside Wall Rose. He stuck to the shadows to lessen the chance of being seen, his footsteps only heard by his ears as he crept forward silently, following a predetermined route to the home that was his destination.

He had to dodge the occasional Garrison soldier, but he managed to make his trip without being spotted, coming to a stop in front of the three story apartment building and looking up at the window four down from the left. He took a moment to listen to the surrounding area, making sure there was no one around to witness what he was about to do. Once he was certain he was in the clear, Levi coiled, kicked off the ground with those new abilities of his, and leapt up to the window he’d been eyeing. His hand connected with the windowsill, allowing him to pull himself up and open the window, easily sliding inside with relative quiet. He couldn’t help the sound of the window opening, or the dull thud from the impact as he landed from his jump, but he could control what noise he made.

Leaving the window open in case he needed a quick escape, Levi straightened up from his crouched position in the bedroom, his hood having fallen away. He wasn’t too concerned about it, considering the only person in this room was the same person he’d marked as one of his...victims.

Shaking the thought from his mind, Levi went over to the side of the bed where he could see someone’s slumbering form. He stayed silent for now, listening to the rest of the apartment in case the caretaker was awake. So far, it was just him moving around. As long as he stayed quiet, and his quarry stayed quiet, he wouldn’t be discovered.

Continuing his quiet motions, Levi reached out and carefully touched the older gentleman’s shoulder, attempting to wake him.

Mostly for the sake of his own conscious, he was going to try and get consent before he tried drinking from anyone. Most of the people on his list probably were incapable of giving it or comprehending, but he was still going to make the effort. It was so different from what he’d been doing up until now, but at the same time, it was almost relieving.

The man stirred, shifting slightly in bed and opening his eyes to spy the strange dark figure standing beside his bed. His eyes went wide, mouth agape and arm stretching out as if to shoo him away, but the most sound he mustered was quiet croaks.

And this was why he was Levi’s first. He had the least chance of being discovered here, which meant it was the perfect place for his first try at this new diet.

Levi grasped the man’s wrist carefully, placing it over the man’s midriff as he sat down on the edge of the bed. “I’m not here to hurt you, not really,” Levi reassured him, his voice low to keep it from carrying out of the bedroom. “I’m here to ask you for something I need.”

The man stopped croaking and waving his arm around, but his eyes were still wide, following Levi’s every movement.

“I need your blood. Not enough to hurt you,” he amended when the man started to panic again. “I need it to live. I’ll take some from you, heal you, and leave. That’s all. You don’t have to do anything but lie there and try not to piss yourself.”

The man started to reach for a little bell on his nightstand, but Levi casually pushed it out of reach before the man could even get halfway there with his slow movements. “I’m going to do it whether you consent or not, but I’d rather you did.”

The man continued to grasp in vain at the bell, and Levi sighed, accepting that this one wasn’t going to give him any consent. Pulling the man’s arm back to the bed, Levi turned the man’s head to the side, ignoring the panicked croaks he was making as he lowered his mouth to this throat before the hunger even took over.

It would probably be better if the man didn’t have to see his fangs and the glow of his eyes in the darkness. He was well aware the sight was nightmare inducing, and he didn’t need to scare the older man any more than he already had.

Levi’s fangs dug into the man’s neck, a raspy whine escaping the man beneath him as fresh, clean blood rushed into his mouth. It tasted so much better than the shit below ground, that the world around him almost immediately bled away, eyes closed and body relaxing as he felt something truly sustaining rushing into his system. It wasn’t as good as Y/N’s blood, but it was definitely going to satiate him, and keep him satiated far longer than his Underground diet had been keeping him.

When he ended up taking a hard pull to keep the steady flow coming, Levi realized he’d hit the point he needed to stop. His hands dug into the bed, eyes squeezing tightly shut as he tried to pull away. It was so much easier to stop when he’d been drinking the tainted blood from before, which was saying something considering it took him so damn long to be able to stop at all.

Levi grunted, and through sheer force of will, he forced himself to release the man’s throat, pulling out his handkerchief and pressing it against the man’s neck for the time being, his tongue running across his lips to catch any stray blood.

Once he was certain he wasn’t going to attempt to attach himself to the man’s neck again, Levi put the man’s hand over the handkerchief to keep the pressure applied, pulling out a dagger he was keeping stashed on his person. He cut open his palm without flinching, hand curling into a fist to let the blood dribble down his hand and down against the man’s lips, into his mouth. It was dark, so ideally he couldn’t see what was being put to his mouth and would swallow reflexively, saving Levi the trouble of having to force him to drink a little of his blood in return.

A few moments later, the cut in his hand had healed, and Levi peeled back the handkerchief at the man’s neck to see that he was, in fact, healing, though it was happening slower than Levi’s injuries healed.

Taking back the handkerchief, Levi cleaned up what mess of blood he had made, which wasn’t much, thanks to his practice towards being neater when he drank. He stood up from the side of the bed, and picked up the bell he’d moved out of the man’s reach.

“You’ll be fine,” he told him bluntly, watching and waiting until the bite mark on the man’s neck had disappeared entirely before he placed the little bell back within the man’s reach. “I’ll be back, but not for a while.”

Levi pulled his hood back up as the man reached for his bell, crawling out of the window and sliding it shut behind him before disappearing into the night again.

Though he lingered to see if the bell would be rung, making sure that even though he’d chosen his newest victims for the fact they couldn’t raise the alarm about him, that the older man wouldn’t somehow find a way. The bell was rung, but the caretaker assumed the older man had simply had a nightmare, and Levi was free to disappear into the darkness to seek out the second and last house of the night.

Levi Tags: @clary-quinn @humanitys-hottestsoldier @whalerus @sunny-flo @thirstyforsometea

Vampire!Levi Tags: @mysteriousmagicx @thesilencebeforeastorm @super-peace-fangirl @psychiccvampire

Investment Tags: @regalillegal @cecldcecld @soft-levi-girl-blog @kitomashi @hurwen-calaeril @doragonraitoningu

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jeeperso · 4 years ago

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D&D Quotes Without context

Miscellaneous Edition, for those quotable lines from between sessions

"All I wanna do, is fork a giant woman! A giant woman!" "Jonni, I'm pretty sure she is some type of undead, probably a vampire. Are you sure that is a good idea?" "If I don’t get turned into a blueberry it won’t be my worst date." "Okay, but if you have to defend yourself just don't burn the place down for once." "Oh, Nyx. Sweet summer child. I never make promises we both know I won’t even try to keep." "Jonni, if I wake up to my bed surrounded in flames again I'm short-sheeting your next bed every night for at least a month." "I know you're trying to score here, but Lady Dimitrescu's daughters are literally vampires AND bugs. I can overlook one, but as a Paladin, it is my sacred duty to burn this place to the ground and stir the ashes."

"We don't let Marshall make breakfast anymore." "Those waffles are well-fortified." "I'm going to be charitable and call it hardtack." "We can use these waffles as melee weapons." "Well if we need to deflect siege engines they'll be good to have." "This is still carbon based and digestible by human systems without any poisons." "I can't serve this. It'll cause ... death." "Marshal we've been over this. This Pizza has 10% less of a lethal amount of grease." "Plus they signed the waivers when they bought a ticket. It's fine." "And don't forget to push the Cakeon." "Cakeon being slices of cake wrapped in bacon." "The special sauce is a mixture of mayonnaise, ketchup, mustard, ranch, horseradish, cheddar cheese, sour cream, and anything unfortunate enough to fall into the mixing vat."

"You do have a copy of the legal code I requested in my letter? As landed gentry you should actually have legal avenues to... I'm sorry did you say Burning child?"

"First I'm going to nail a crossbow bolt through your heart. Then I'm going to mount your balls to walls on opposite sides of this chamber." "I need Three Barrels of Butter" "Are you serious? Those Claws could crush an elephant in full plate!" "You're Right!" *Turns to first person* "We might need more than three barrels of butter."

"So Ioun is the patron of poor college kids. that scans "

"its hardtack or a mug of molten cheese-fried... something in a woven mug of bacon. your choice."

"Welp, all this coke ain't gonna snort itself..."

"Right hand me that dress and the bail money. I'll get Jonni." OOC: Well I mean they allow men in the city. Its just no men live in the city. "I stand by my statement. I'm allowed to look pretty every now and then." OOC: And dragons are the most unprejudiced lovers of anyone after bards.

OOC: Well I mean come on, its Ravenloft: saying a place is of death and madness is like making the observation the day ends in y. "Going out. Getting laid." "Jonni, she’s a werewolf." "Going out, forking a werewolf." OOC: Well Lycanthropy isn't usually sexually transmitted. Its just that Mercedes is a biter. OOC: ...I don't have an appropriate response to that.

"You seriously think I’d turn on my friends for a pile of gold?!?" "sigh I’ll show you my tits. "Hot damn, let’s get these murders done!" "No, Jonni, stay good. Besides, there are plenty of other girls who will do that without asking you to murder us." "Hmmmm… this is the moral quandary of my life…" "I’ll give you five bucks." "Scales tipped!" "Phew, I thought I was going to have to cover her next trip to the topless bar." "No, no, I have the bail money right here."

Nyx: So what’s the inside of Jonni’s head like? Edmund (with thousand yard stare): Imagine every ladies only smut magazine you’ve ever heard of going on forever into infinity while everything is on fire. Food was good though.

"It’s cool. They stole it." "And you know this how?" "Magic." “90% of Ravenloft deaths are mysterious vanishings.” "Why does everything come out covered in glitter and … is that …" "Lube. I’ve got a few theories." "Please don’t share them."

OOC: This is a plan that ends with Strahd having fewer brides, his castle is in flames, and he’s lost his cape.

OOC: Our team consists of a horny pyromancer, a gnome who can fillete you in five seconds, an HP lovecraft protagonist with actual magic backing them up, a literal slab of iron with a face, and a guy with a "I went to the eternal city of Ryleth and all I got was PTSD and this lousy T shirt". Gorbash smashing his shield into their face: "Have! You! Considered! Therapy!" OOC: Good news is you guys will no longer be the most conspicuous guys at the masquerade now. Jonni: Challenge accepted! "Nyx, the bounty on stealing his fake mustache is still on."

"Vanilla is the king of flavors. What does it say about society where vanilla is considered just 'regular'?" "That they have a lot of vanilla." Lash: "Don’t you want wishes?" Jonni: "Do I need wishes to get to see you naked?" Lash: "No?" Jonni: "Fuck ‘em." Vesh: "Oh dammit its my arranged fiance." Pit Fiend: "Milady." Vesh: "An extra wish to whoever punches this douchecanoe in the nards." Jonni: "I wish…for Bigby’s clenched fist of nard punching."

Soth: "Oh, gods, why am I on fire and why is Immigrant Song playing?" Jonni: "Take a guess." Hazlik: "Okay, so its a partridge, stuffed inside a chicken, stuffed inside a duck, stuffed inside a turkey, and the whole thing is fried on a stick. Congratulations, that's the most horrible thing I have ever seen, and I once crossbred an elephant and an owl." "I give him the 'itis, and we run like we stole something." OOC: ...weirdly Curse of Strahd has stats for Strahd zombies but not Strahd Skeletons. Or Strahd's skeletal Steed. Strahd once went to a branding seminar hosted by Bane and it changed his life.

"Are we on a high enough floor that if I throw him through the window he'll be killed by the fall?" "Oh, but when I say stuff like that it’s all 'Jonni, murder is wrong.'" "When they say pick your battles they don't mean to pick all of them. That's too many battles Jonni. Put some back." OOC: He's technically already got a symbiote. OOC: They can get married. Gorbash: "I'm increasing the rent." Venom: "Can I keep the pool table?" Gorbash: "I'm not a monster." Giant Brain: "Jonni… I have summoned you here for… WHY AM I ALREADY ON FIRE! PUT ME OUT! PUT ME OUT!"

"Hello We're the party-crashers. This is Jonni, she's here to steal your women and burn your shit down. That's Nyx, she's going to repatriate certain items from the premise. Marshal over there, is here to studiously ignore our shenanigans. This is the New Guy. He seems pretty chill. I'm Gorbash... and I have been distracting you."

"Will you walk into my parlour?" said a spider to a fly. Jonni: "Hold up. Trying to sex a spider." Nyx: (throws her hands up) And then Jonni wakes up with a spider venom hangover webbed to a wall waiting to be eaten. Jonni: "Eh, I’ve had worse one night stands. I’m not a fucking blueberry." OOC 1: Hey, where does your weed elf grow [her] crops? OOC 2: She probably just grows them in the room she hasn’t paid rent on. OOC 3: Because I was also considering a circle of spores druid tortle. OOC 2: We could be partners! We could turn this into road to el dorado staring Cheech and Chong. OOC: Wait, I just realized five people are hanging out in a pirate bar, and none of us are rogues. We are gonna need someone to get thieves tools. OOC: We have a barbarian with a big stick.

"Are we Foxhound now? Blunderbuss Octopus." OOC1: You want to put the stoner in charge of food. OOC2: Eyup. OOC1: I see no way this can go wrong! OOC3: We need the four basic food groups. Beans, Bacon, Whisky, and Lard. “We pray to Almighty Darkseid! Give us a sign! Thumbs up, for the triumph of the human spirit! Thumbs down to begin the everlasting reign of darkness!” “Where did you find this guy?” “Me? I thought you hired him.” OOC: Yup, nature, arcana, history, investigation and religon at +6. MJ got baked and watched the Discovery Orb a lot. Tordek: "But we have a cleric, Jozan, over there." Strahd: *sigh* Snaps fingers, and suddenly one of Strahd's brides sucks Jozan out the window, cue screaming. "Oh look, you suddenly have an opening, how fortunate." Tordek: "We also have a druid...." Vadania: "SHUT UP, TORDEK!" Edmund: "I think the first order of business may be to discuss your Human Resources strategy..." Strahd: "I have a guy for that too."

youtube

"When someone as smart as him talks with himself, it's not crazy...They call it monologing." "I thought it was soliloquy?" "No, soliloquy is when you're talk at someone else when your talking to yourself." "Most people would run from a demon, you run towards it to study it." Professor: "THIS IS ABSOLUTELY FASCINATING! A FROGHEMOTH, AND RIGHT UP CLOSE, IT WILL BE AMAZING TO SEE THIS PERFECT KILLING MACHINE IN ACTION." OOC: Also note the Professor is Lawful Good, Archie is Chaotic Good, so collectively they balance out to Neutral good. OOC: That's good. "The incinerations will continue until morale improves!" “You never incinerate the women!” “Because I’m fucking them!” “I… was not expecting you to be so honest about that…”

"You got what you wanted....but you lost what you had...." "Yes, I'm familiar with how capitalism works."

OOC: Dragons are like, “That’s Krandor the shiney. He only fucks other dragons. Weirdo.”

Gorbash: "D'awww, so tiny... perfect size... FOR PUNTING!" *boots tiny mind-flayer into the horizon*

"Dracula hasn't been spotted in almost recently. Whats he gonna do, destroy all we know and love like he definitely can?" "... my god you people are too stupid to live." "What are you doing in my house?" Gorbash: "...well Edmund has been reading your books, I've been sorting through your armory, Nyx and Irost has been going through your other shinies, Marshal has been cleaving anything monstrous that gets too close, and Jonni has been lighting things on fire to stave off boredom." Gorbash: "Okay Marshal, Jonni. Rock, paper, scissors over who gets [to kill] the bishop."

Jonni: "Did you really think this would make up for what you did?" Nima: "I… killed everyone you grew up with." Jonni: "Yeah, and I’m still not forgiving you for what you did to Eddie." Nima: "I am missing some key context here…" Nima: "Also I committed identity theft on you by having my new undead army tell everyone you are running the show." Jonni: "Oh, no. You’ve fooled the boar tribe. Who still haven’t figured out shitting in a hole." Nima: "Yeah I noticed that. I ruined two pairs of shoes attacking their camps."

#dungeons and dragons #dnd 5e #quotes without context #ravenloft #castlevania #resident evil village #ooc

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tuanhood · 5 years ago

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gamma

pairing: christian frat!park jinyoung x sorority!reader

genre: lil angst at the beginning and a LOT of fluff at the end

warnings: some language, also a bit of slut shaming/yugyeom kind of being terrible :( i’m sorry!

word count: 8,900+

summary: you’ve always thought the christian frat on campus was judgmental towards you and your friends in greek life, but when you somehow find yourself at their “water on the row” event, you realize there’s one alpha gamma omega boy that may just change your mind.

a/n: hello guys! so I just want to do a disclaimer in case and say that i don’t think christianity or all christian organizations/entities are judgmental or act like this. this is purely for narrative purposes and based on one conversation i heard once! so please take with a grain of salt as you read! also for my smut lovers all three of the next parts will include smut! this takes place inside the same universe as lambda so enjoy! :) please let me know what you guys think! even if it’s in the tags!!

“Okay so spill, did you kiss him or WHAT?” your friend Katie slurred as you both stumbled back and forth on the sidewalk. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep walking back home, you were starting to enter the phase of drunk where you just wanted to sit down for a while and drift to sleep.

“Who do you think I am?” You asked her in fake shock, “of course I did.”

At your words, you had to stop her from falling down to the ground at how hard she was laughing and squealing, “I knew it! I knew it!”

The two of you had spent the last few hours at a local club in town. It was certainly a risky bet by going there considering most of its customers were people you probably knew or someone you’d at the very least share a mutual friend with. But you go to frat parties with guys we know, many of the sisters in your sorority pointed out. Which was very true, but for some reason it felt different hooking up with a frat guy you knew at his house versus hooking up with him in town at the local bar. You wanted to lead separate lives.

You laughed along with her and attempted to ultimately calm her down so you could keep walking back towards the house. It was a little early to already be heading back on a Friday night, but the two of you had drank a lot in a short amount of time, already going through the mode of intoxication between drunk and sleepy.

“I’m starving,” Katie suddenly mumbled, taking ahold of her stomach and stopping in her tracks, pulling you back towards her, “I need something to eat.” Despite your overly intoxicated state, you were still coherent enough to be annoyed at your friend’s sudden whining, “we’re already close to the row, I’m not going back into town.”

She pouted and you could tell by the methodical look on her face that she was calculating in her mind some sort of plan. Suddenly she snapped her fingers together – or at least tried to considering the alcohol she had consumed earlier – and pointed at you.

“Water on the row!”

Immediately you began to shake your head at her idea. You didn’t care how hungry she was, there was no way you were making a stop at the AGO house.

Water on the row was an event or “thing” put on by the brothers at Alpha Gamma Omega – the Christian centered frat. Every Friday night some of the members would pass out pancakes and water to drunk people that were coming home from their night out or even still in the middle of it.

The boys from Alpha Gamma Omega had always been… disconnected from the rest of the fraternities and sororities on Greek row. Which was why they started “Water on the Row.” So it would give them more opportunities to interact with other orgs but still keep up their “alcohol-free” house lifestyle.

In theory it was a nice thing to do, but you had your own personal vendetta against AGO. You had no issue with their beliefs, religion or what their frat stood for in general, but many of the interactions you and others you knew had with their members were not positive. They tended to look down on other fraternities and sororities due to their “lifestyles” which didn’t exactly make them the most popular on the row. However, when most people were drunk out of their minds, hungry and dehydrated they would willingly take all the pancakes and water they could.

You scoffed, “I don’t want anything from those judgmental Jesus lovers.” Even the thought of passing by them as they handed out their pancakes and water thinking they were saints made your skin crawl.

“Are you really still upset about that guy from recruitment in the plaza? That was like over a year ago.”

“It doesn’t matter how long ago it was, it’s still annoying and hurtful to me.”

Often times words didn’t really get to you. Being in Greek life and involved in all aspects of it you were used to catty and hurtful things being said or thrown around, but roughly a year ago you had let your guard slip down.

It had been a warm September day and you had been assigned to run the table for your sorority that day in an effort to get underclassmen – primarily freshmen – to sign up to rush to be in the Fall pledge class. You had already been in a bad mood since when you showed up to your school’s plaza to be assigned a spot to set up, the student union had decided to give you a location that was not highly desirable. You were squashed in between one of the medical professional sororities and the Christian fraternity Alpha Gamma Omega.

Compared to the other sororities you were getting less prospective members coming over to your table. When many glanced over in your direction, they would see who you were stuck next to and automatically assume you weren’t a top tier sorority on campus. It irked you. Roughly an hour and a half into tabling and recruitment, your friend Mark from Lambda Chi Alpha had come to visit you.

“Not a great day, huh?”

You had scoffed and looked up at him from your seat, “I’m pretty sure Ben from student union has it out for me because I wouldn’t sleep with him.”

Mark had thrown his head back and laughed, grabbing the boy at the Alpha Gamma Omega table’s attention.

“You know next time you just have to let me know and I’ll set you up really well. I’m pretty sure Jennifer from student union wants to sleep with me so I could put in a word for you.”

Your eyebrows had furrowed in confusion, “don’t you have a girlfriend?”

“Yes! And I’ve told Jennifer that six times!”

Then it was your turn to laugh, “guess she’s committed to waiting around. Can’t say the same about Ben though. Said no to him once and now I’m stuck back here in the shadows.”

Mark had frowned, “if I see any girls come my way while I’m up there, I’ll be sure to tell them to come back here. Don’t worry.”

“Thanks Mark, you’re the best.”

Mark had always been like a big brother to you. You had met him very early on at a party where weirdly enough you had tried to hit on him. Looking back it was embarrassing considering the fact at how now you could never see dating him. He was a year older and always looked out for you in the hectic system that was Greek life.

He leaned forward to rub your shoulder comfortingly, “any time sis.” As you had watched him walk away back to his table in a prime location, you sighed hoping that he would keep up his promise of sending girls to your corner of the plaza.

“Slut.”

At first you had thought it was some kind of mirage or hallucination as the temperature was arriving at heatwave level, but as you whipped your head to the Alpha Gamma Omega table you were met with almost venomous eyes staring you down. You looked at him with mouth agape, unsure of how to answer his completely incorrect and uncalled for assessment of you.

“Excuse me?” You had been able to muster through a somewhat shaky tone.

The boy in AGO letters suddenly looked at you cluelessly, “what?”

You blinked a few times to wonder if you had indeed imagined being called a slut, but you realized that you hadn’t come out here in hot weather on a Tuesday afternoon to be gaslit.

“You just called me a slut and I’d like a fucking apology.”

The boy looked taken aback, as if he hadn’t intended on you saying anything or confronting him. His eyes remained blank, but for a moment you can catch a flicker of acknowledgment behind them – he had known exactly what you were talking about. “Sorry, but I think you must have misheard. I would never say that.”

“Uh like hell I misheard you. I know what you said and I want you to apologize.”

He leaned back in his chair and looked around, surveying if anyone had been paying attention to the spat between you two. “I’m not apologizing for something that’s the truth,” he said under his breath. Despite the attempt for you not to hear him, the look on his face was loud enough for you to detect his answer.

Ever since that day you looked at AGO differently and tried your best to avoid everything and anything that had to do with them.

With the current conversation, you could feel yourself sobering up and suddenly realized that you didn’t want to. If Katie was going to make you go over to Alpha Gamma Omega, you were going to give them what they wanted which was an intoxicated hoe.

“Do you have anything left in the flask?”

Your friend looked at you surprised, “I think so. You want more?” She pulled the silver flask out from inside her coat and shook it to see what was left. Without a word you grabbed it from her and poured all of the liquid into your mouth. The burn in your throat was just what you need to get through this.

“AGO house it is…” you mumbled, wiping the vodka that had dribbled onto your chin and grabbing Katie’s hand. She continued to thank you for being such a good friend all the way to Greek row and until you’re both standing in a line in front of Alpha Gamma Omega.

At a glance at the lengthy line – full of people you recognized – you heard Katie whine beside you. Suddenly you felt that feeling you only got when you were drunk and feel the need to sober up because someone more wasted than you was in trouble. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” You asked her.

She turned to you with a scowl on her face, “I don’t want to stand in this line, I just want to go home… call Jaebeom over or something.”

You shrugged your shoulders, “I mean you’re the one who wanted food. I’m fine with just going back,” you began but she immediately shook her head, “no I still want the pancakes. You can just bring them to me at the house once you get to the front of the line.”

“What? Are you joking? I’m not standing in this line alone when you’re the one who wanted food.”

As much as you loved the girls in your sorority especially Katie, you had to admit there was a huge difference between your friendships in the chapter versus your friends who were unaffiliated. For example, you were pretty sure your nonaffiliated friends wouldn’t leave you slightly intoxicated in line for pancakes from the Christian frat that once called you a slut to go home to hook up with her “are they, aren’t they” boyfriend.

She shrugged, “I’m sorry Y/N… Just in one of those moods and you know Jaebeom is the only one who can bring me down.”

You opened your mouth to protest, to call her out and tell her how annoying and infuriating she was being, but nothing came out. She took this as your approval and smiled brightly, leaning forward to kiss you on the cheek, “thank you! You’re the absolute best!! Just knock three times on my door when you get back to the house with the pancakes. Ya know just in case…” with a wink she’s gone down the street, pulling out her phone most likely to call Jaebeom.

After about ten minutes in line, it occured to you that you could have just said no and gone with her, but at that point you realized two important things. You were a pushover and you were already at the front of the line.

“Here you go.”

When you looked up at the guy, you felt yourself freeze. The man in front of you gave you a pleasant smile, his hand extended towards you with a plate of pancakes and a water bottle. He looked at you unemotionally, waiting for you to take it out of your hands, but you can’t. You couldn’t move. He was the most gorgeous man you had ever seen in probably your entire life. He looked like a prince or an actor. He looked like someone who deserved to be stared at and adored all day. You weren’t a photographer but you would become one just so you could take photos of him and open up an exhibit where everyone else could be exposed to his beauty.

You were already calculating in your head who you knew with an art gallery connection.

It was clear the man felt uneasy or at least from your point of view he did. He shuffled over to the side so the next person in line could be helped by one of the other AGO guys. “Are you okay?”

With his concern, you suddenly remembered why you weren’t a fan of this frat. His questioning of whether or not you were okay probably wasn’t genuine or authentic. He most likely was thinking about it from a stand point that he’s the virtuous one who’s giving out food and water, while you’re the drunk one, therefore you must not be okay.

Rolling your eyes, you moved to the side with him, “yeah I’m fine thanks.”

It’s clear he’s thrown off by your tone and instead of ignoring it, handing you the pancakes and sending you on your way, he continued, “sorry… I just wanted to see if you were alright. You were kind of not moving for a while.”

“And what? I have to move every second to make people think I’m okay? FYI just because you’re drunk doesn’t mean something’s wrong with you.” Your feisty attitude was a clear tell-tale that the vodka from the flask was hitting you.

The guy looked at you curiously. He had his fair share of interactions with drunk people on the Friday nights he did Water on the Row, but this felt different. It was almost as though what he had said you had taken as a threat or a personal attack and he wasn’t sure why.

“I-I know that,” he stuttered a bit. Despite him standing over you and being much broader, he felt intimidated by your presence – but not necessarily in a negative way.

“I am drunk okay and the only thing that’s difficult is dealing with you right now.”

Even you were surprised at the words you were spitting out at him. You’ve had your cruel drunk moments, but you had never acted like this with a complete stranger before.

This time he didn’t have a reaction for your words. Instead, he looked from you to the rest of the guys next to him and then back to you, “are you here with anyone?”

You snorted, thinking about how Katie had just left you to fend for the two of you.

“No.”

Once again, he looked between you and the other guys. It made you shuffle in place of where you’re standing, feeling uncertain for the first time since you’d laid eyes on him.

“Why don’t I walk you back to your house?”

The first thought in your mind was that he was just offering to take you home as an AGO move to prove that he was a saint, better than any of the other countless frat guys that had been with you at the end of the night while you were drunk. It’s the softness of his eyes and the nervous biting of his bottom lip that made you realize he’s actually being genuine. You don’t know why, but you start to feel nervous, even after alcohol which usually makes you confrontation and confident.

“I don’t typically go home with strangers so… I’ll need your identification.”

He laughed at your formality and you almost feel your heart jump out of your chest when you see the crinkles that appear near his eyes when he smiles. You tried your best to push your feelings down when you realize it wouldn’t be so bad keep making him laugh.

Playing along, he reached towards his back pocket to pull out his wallet. Surprisingly, he handed his driver’s license to you which you accepted willingly.

You get annoyed at first glance when you see how good he looks in the photo because you’ve truly never seen anyone look that good in an image meant for an ID of any kind.

“Park Jinyoung,” you read off the license, and Jinyoung almost feels his own heart stop. Handing it back to him quickly you shrugged your shoulders in a nonchalant way, “I trust you.”

“Wow is that all it takes these days?” You rolled your eyes to stop yourself from smiling at his joke, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, “I guess for little old intoxicated me on a Friday night it is. Now come on,” you waved your hand taking a step onto the pavement but he held a finger out to stop you.

“Let me just let the guys know I’m going.”

You almost want to laugh at him but you nodded instead. Usually the people you surrounded yourself with would just drift off and disappear, not bothering to let anyone know where they were going. You couldn’t understand if it was an AGO thing or if it was just a Jinyoung thing. You hoped it was just a Jinyoung thing.

Taking a few steps further away from the AGO house, you watched as Jinyoung spoke to some of the members at the table passing out food and water to the line that hasn’t shrank in size. The guy he’s talking to looked at you and you gave a small wave; he didn’t return it but turned back to Jinyoung. The discussion between them seemed more heated than it should be, it immediately makes your mind go to the headspace of being judged.

After a moment, Jinyoung reunited with you on the sidewalk and smiled, “all good to go,” gesturing, you go in front of him and lead the way.

Being back on the sidewalk, you felt more of the physical effects of the alcohol. Every part of your body wants to start walking from side to side for some reason, but with every piece of strength you have, you forced yourself to walk forward. You really didn’t want this Jinyoung guy to think you were that much more of a mess.

At first the two of you walked in silence, carrying your plate of pancakes in one hand and your water bottle in the other. You took a glance at the AGO boy at your side, wondering if he thought this whole thing was as ridiculous as you did.

“I like your shoes.” His comment catches you off guard. Somehow it made you even more skeptical of his motives.

Calm down, he’s just trying to be nice.

“Thanks…” You wanted to leave it at just that and have the remainder of the time the two of you spend together be silent, but drunk you wanted to play games. Looking at how innocent he was, the clear fiddling of his hands in his hoodie’s pocket and the nervous clicking of his tongue set you off, “the guy I was with tonight didn’t really think so.”

When you hear Jinyoung inhale strongly, you smiled. It was a clear signal of him being uncomfortable. You thought that now was where the real silence between you and Jinyoung could begin, but you were surprised to hear him urge you to continue on.

“Oh… why not?”

Even though you didn’t have sex with the guy from the club tonight – clearly – you felt like you would have to play it off that way to get the maximum reaction from this goody two shoes who probably had never even touched a girl before. When your eyes narrowed in on his arms through his sweatshirt, however, you realized that maybe that was an outlandish assumption.

“Too much work for him to take them off.”

It’s almost as though Jinyoung has to take a moment to calculate in his head what exactly you’re referring to. When he finally got it, you heard him kick rocks underneath his feet. For some reason this pleased you.

“Ah I see. I guess it could be kind of…” he cleared his throat again, looking down at your shoes “complicated in those situations.”

“Especially in the bathroom,” as soon as the words are out of your mouth you regretted them. So caught up in your fake antics of making Jinyoung uncomfortable, you didn’t even think about what you were saying. Sex in the bathroom? And you wanted to take your shoes off? Just doesn’t make sense.

You hoped Jinyoung didn’t think about it too much.

“So, you had a fun night?” He questioned. For some reason it made you stop in your tracks and begin to laugh. You almost dropped the pancakes completely. Jinyoung on the other hand looked at you as if you were crazy. He felt embarrassed, he knows that he’s probably not the coolest guy or the first choice to walk you home, but he certainly didn’t think he was the worst option, “did I say something wrong?”

When you finally caught your breath, you looked at him and noticed how he’s begun to bite his lip again. Most of the frat guys you knew had this cocky attitude to them – you were friends with many of them of course – but they didn’t have whatever it was you were seeing in Jinyoung. From the outside he looked like someone who was so sure of themselves – one would with those looks – but you could see the insecurities or the naivety that laid behind his exterior.

“No, you didn’t say anything wrong… To be honest I don’t even know why it’s that funny. I guess just typically when people drink on Friday nights, they have fun.”

He nodded his head as if you had just explained a math equation and continued to follow you down the street, “Right… but not necessarily all the time. You know you can have just as good of a time without drinking.”

You snorted, “please spare me any of your AGO lectures.”

“I don’t intend on lecturing you. I’m just saying…”

“You know it really pisses me off how you guys think you’re better than the rest of us. Why? Just because you’re a Christian frat? Just because you guys don’t drink or go to parties? Just because you guys spend your Fridays passing out breakfast to wasted kids? That doesn’t make you any better, just so you know.” He didn’t say anything and for a second you felt bad, as if you’d struck a nerve with him, but then you’re taken back to that moment in the plaza. He was probably like that guy.

“I know it doesn’t make us any better. We just wanted to…” he paused, trying to find the right word, “help and be a better part of the community. We know what you guys think of us and we’re trying to change that. That’s all.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, “That’s… understandable. Maybe you guys would be more connected if you didn’t ridicule us…” you snorted in the middle of your suggestion, “or maybe did a shot or two.”

Jinyoung laughed and you continued to push the thought of wanting to make him laugh forever out of your head, “you know… I have had alcohol before. AGO just doesn’t do parties and stuff like that. It’s an alcohol-free house, but it doesn’t stop members from doing stuff outside of that.”

“But most of you probably don’t.”

He sucked a breath in, you had gotten him there. Most of the guys didn’t bother with drinking, not even socially. “Well… yeah lots of the guys don’t, but some of them do.”

“Like you?”

“Like me,” he confirmed.

You stopped again, this time to place your hands out and in front of Jinyoung, stopping him as well. “Okay, but have you ever even been drunk before?”

Jinyoung pursed his lips. At first, he considers lying to you, but if he was already going to act out of character tonight, he wasn’t going to add lying to the list. “No…”

You suddenly get an idea. The picture in your head is of you and Jinyoung – the Christian sweetheart you barely knew – sitting on the floor of your room giggling about how stupid Greek life reputations were. You would show him your favorite song they play at your favorite club and he could read you Bible verses or… something? You weren’t really sure if that’s what they did all day at the AGO house, but the bottom line was you would show him a piece of your world and he would show you his.

“We can change that tonight. I have an entire bottle of Ciroc under my bed,” you have to stop your hand from grabbing his.

His heart raced at your suggestion and he felt the two sides of him battle with one another. Ultimately, the AGO side won, “N-No… I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

You pouted. Drunk you was truly insane. You led him to believe that you had sex with some stranger in a bathroom and now he probably thought you were trying to get him into bed as well.

“Why not? I’m even offering you the good stuff. Not any of the watered-down shit.” He flinched at your cursing and it makes you annoyed and swoon all in one.

Jinyoung couldn’t help but notice how painfully beautiful you looked under the glow of the dim street-lamps that lit the sidewalk. He swallowed thinking about how much he disagreed with his words, “I just really don’t think it’s a good idea.”

You turned away from him to hide the embarrassment you felt. He probably thought you were suggesting a promiscuous evening, but you didn’t want that from him. For some reason you just felt a want to talk to him and pick his brain – he was a lot different than the typical Alpha Gamma Omega members and you wanted to know why. You wanted to know why he is the way he is. Apparently Jinyoung didn’t want that from you.

Wordlessly, you continued your walk home and Jinyoung followed close behind feeling like an absolute jerk. Caught up in your thoughts, when you finally looked around at your surroundings, you realized you had arrived at your front door.

“This is me.” Jinyoung looked up at the house, taking in the letters and once again nodding his head thoughtfully, “thanks for letting me walk you home.”

You looked at him confused, “why are you thanking me?”

Tightly smiling, Jinyoung feels his stomach flip. He’s never needed approval from someone, especially not someone he just met, but he feels like he wants to convince you he’s actually a good person. That he’s not pretending. It almost feels suffocating with how much he wants to prove himself. “I just liked walking you home.”

“Even despite my rude and drunk behavior?”

Jinyoung shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his AGO hoodie, “you don’t seem drunk anymore.”

“Trust me… I am,” since Jinyoung clearly didn’t have an interest in speaking to you any further than this moment, you felt as though you could say whatever you wanted to him. You figured that the best thing to do was reveal his attraction level since he already thought you were trying to fuck him.

“If I wasn’t drunk, I wouldn’t be thinking about how handsome you are,” Jinyoung looked down to hide his smile and you continued, “not just in a normal way but in a classic Hollywood kind of way… but I guess that happens with good Christian boys. For some reason they usually end up hot.”

Again, those eye crinkles appeared as he started to laugh, his cheeks even going as far as turning a light pink color. It looked really good on him.

“If you ever need me to set up a Tinder account for you, just let me know… I’m an expert, I’ve done all of my friends’ profiles. My success rate is a hundred percent,” your hand settled down on the door knob. The next obvious step was to turn it, but you just wanted to suck this moment dry and take as much as you could before you two went your separate ways. “Nah… not Tinder you’re a Bumble or Hinge guy for sure. I can still offer my services… I know how tough it must be living in a house of all boys all the time.”

“Thanks for… the compliment? And offer?” He questioned. He probably wasn’t used to the girls he was usually around commenting on his appearance or saying such things. It made you roll your eyes again, “yes I was complimenting you so just take it AGO.”

Turning around, you went to unlock the front door and head inside. Jinyoung mindlessly watched you until it dawned on him that he missed something important. Your name.

“Wait!” He called from behind you. It caused you to turn around, waiting. “You never told me your name.” He looked so cute, kicking his feet on the ground and biting his bottom lip again, patiently waiting for you to reveal yourself to him, but you can’t shake the feeling that’s bubbling up inside of you. Before you could stop yourself, you’re shaking your head at him, “let’s be honest… you’re not going to need it.”

Jinyoung furrowed his eyebrows, confused by the rejection of just being told your name. With a final frown on your face, he watched you go inside and shut the door behind you. On his walk back to the AGO house all he could think about was that frown.

“You can’t possibly still be thinking about that girl from Friday night,” Yugyeom snorted.

Unfortunately, he very much was thinking about the girl from Friday night, even though he knew all the guys would ridicule him for it. The fact that this comes across as his first thought makes him wonder if you were right about them.

Just as Yugyeom finished his sentence, Jackson settled down at the table next to Jinyoung, already devouring his fries.

“What girl?” Jackson asked both of them, a speck of fry coming from his mouth and onto the table when he speaks. It makes Jinyoung want to vomit.

Almost annoyingly, Yugyeom turned to Jackson, “A girl Jinyoung met at ‘Water on the Row’.” The way he said it is almost venomous, as if he’s ultimately disgusted at the thought and mere situation. Jinyoung wanted to say something, to defend the girl - but he doesn’t even really know her.

Jackson stopped chewing for a moment, thinking, “oh...”

“Yeah,” Yugyeom paused, turning to glance back at Jinyoung, shooting daggers at him that practically tell him not to do anything stupid, “I know...”

“Don’t you think you’re kind of being judgmental? And isn’t that kind of our whole thing? To not judge, but to serve others?”

His outburst seemed to surprise his friends at the table, both of them looking at one another at Jinyoung’s out of character behavior. Usually he maintained composure and silence in conversations such as this and in the past, he’d definitely been the contributor to the judgements. But for some reason this particular conversation about this particular girl was rubbing him the wrong way.

“I mean yeah… but Jinyoung, come on… you can’t be with a girl like that. The drinking, the partying and the sleeping around? It’s just kind of too much, don’t you think?”

“Yugyeom, dude… you don’t know if she’s like that,” Jackson piped up, going back to eating his fries.

“Let me repeat the fact that he met her at Water on the Row… so she’s exactly like that. She probably has like a Tinder or something too.”

“What’s wrong with Tinder?” Both Jinyoung and Yugyeom look at Jackson who suddenly opened his mouth quickly to defend himself, “I mean I don’t have it or anything, but I’m just wondering what’s wrong.”

“No one on there is looking for an actual committed relationship Jacks, it’s just people who want to hook up. Like most of the girls who show up on Friday nights.”

Jinyoung wanted to agree with Yugyeom and put this all to bed. That would be the easiest thing for him, if he just concurred that the girl from Friday night was not right for him and the fact that she liked to drink and go out disqualified her from ever being someone he wants to get to know. However, he didn’t want to. For some reason, for once he wanted the complicated option. The option most of his friends in Alpha Omega wouldn’t agree with.

You had no idea why your room was the “hangout” room in the house. Or at least it was for Katie and Jaebeom. One would think that they would want to be alone together, but instead they loved coming up to your room and laying on the floor whenever Jaebeom came over to the house. Usually people didn’t like having a third wheel intrude on time with their “significant” other – or whatever it was that these two were doing – but they loved being in your room.

“I think we need to get Y/N a boyfriend…” Jaebeom said very suddenly, throwing down the magazine he was reading. Why he wanted to read your old Cosmos from freshman year? You had no clue.

Katie squealed in delight, fascinated by this plan that had yet to be approved by you. However, knowing her she already had at least five guys in mind. “How about Ryan from Sigma Chi?”

You let out a response to convey your disgust at the same time Jaebeom clenched his jaw.

“He’s literally been with everyone,” you rolled your eyes, trying to focus on the work on your desk that you had diligently been doing before Jaebeom’s quest to end your single life.

“Not to mention he’s a misogynist who displays sociopathic tendencies,” Jaebeom scowled, surprising you so much so that you turned around to face him.

Katie looked at him with big eyes, as if she were about to jump him at any moment, “Babe, I didn’t know you knew words like that.” He shrugged in response, “Mark’s girlfriend teaches me well.”

You smiled, “I like her more and more every day.”

The room is filled with silence and you realized that they were both waiting for you to say something about Jaebeom’s overall statement of getting you a boyfriend. They wanted your feedback, your questions, comments and concerns – they wanted to play the role of matchmaker, that much was clear.

You shuffled uncomfortably in your seat, “I don’t need a boyfriend.” Jaebeom tried to reason with you, “okay but you want one.”

Sometimes your friends really didn’t get you. You’d never been successful with commitment and long-term boyfriends in the past, why was it suddenly going to work out any differently just because Jaebeom and Katie were trying to set you up?

“We’ll get you a really good one. Someone in Greek life, but someone loyal…” Katie paused to turn to Jaebeom, “who do you think the most loyal frat on campus is? Lambda?”

He brought his hand underneath his chin and tapped it slowly, considering. “Hm… I mean Lambda is good, of course,” he smiled at the acknowledgement of his own frat, “but actually… I feel like the most responsible frat is AGO.”

Katie immediately burst out into giggles, Jaebeom soon following. “Y/N could never be with an AGO. My accountant stepdad is more interesting than any of the guys over there. She would go crazy dating one of them. If any of them even talk to girls that is.”

For some reason her words made your skin crawl. AGO was the subject of a lot of jokes on Greek row and in fact, you were used to being the one that made them, but for some reason you felt sick. You couldn’t help but think about Jinyoung.

He was genuinely nice to you and although he had rejected your offer, he was a decent guy. Not feeding you any of his bullshit lectures that the AGO guys were known to give. He didn’t even really fight back with you when drunk you pretty much called him fake.

Oh god you had lectured him. It felt like it was all coming back now.

You had asked him to get drunk with you and invited him to your room. You had told him he was handsome. You had offered to make him a Tinder profile.

“Y/N are you okay? You don’t look good…” Jaebeom pointed out, “we won’t get you a boyfriend if the thought of it makes you this sick.”

Why did you care that you had drunkenly embarrassed yourself in front of Park Jinyoung? You barely knew the guy; you didn’t agree with most of his frat’s values and outlook on others in the Greek system. Hell, he was probably friends with the guy that called you a slut.

As if you had been stuck in a trance, you blinked and looked at the two friends sat in front of you. They look as though they’re about to admit you to the local hospital.

Clearing your throat, “do you guys think that they have the same guys working at Water on the Row every Friday?” Katie squinted at you, “how are we supposed to know that? I mean… probably not.” You nodded and turned back to your desk in silence, staring at the schoolwork in front of you blankly.

He probably wouldn’t be there. You probably didn’t need to go. It was probably a sign.

A sign that you probably just… shouldn’t.

Another week rolled around and it soon became Friday again.

Jinyoung wasn’t supposed to be on pancakes and water duty this week, but he had told Jackson he would take his shift. At first Jackson was reluctant to give it up after what the three of them had talked about when they went out for dinner, but when he looked at Jinyoung’s sad pleading face he knew he couldn’t say no.

He knew there wasn’t a guarantee that you would be returning to the house, but he figured that this would be his only opportunity to see you again. If Jinyoung had to spend another Friday night passing out pancakes and water to drunk people just for the small chance of you showing up, he’d take it.

“Dude ya’ll are like the sober crew,” some guy from Lambda said grabbing the plate of pancakes from Jinyoung, the guy’s arm wrapped tightly around a girl who looked annoyed.

“Come on Mark,” the girl groaned, dragging him out of line.

They both stumbled down the steps and to the sidewalk, Jinyoung watching them go carefully. “I love you so much,” Mark told the girl. She threw her head back laughing, still trying to carry Mark’s weight, “I know you idiot. I love you too.”

When they kiss, Jinyoung looked away not wanting to intrude on their moment. He felt a strange knot in his stomach as he thinks about the two. They both seemed wildly different, but you didn’t have to be an expert on love and romance to understand the affection and fondness that was between the two of them.

Jinyoung’s mind quickly went to you, but he shoved it to the back of his thoughts when he reminds himself that he didn’t know anything about you. He had just met you.

“Any luck?” Yugyeom asked, coming up on Jinyoung’s side to surprise him, “don’t act dumb… I know why you took Jackson’s shift tonight. I know why you’re here.”

Jinyoung rolled his eyes, turning away from the boy and grabbing another water bottle to hand to the next person in line. He used this opportunity to scan the queue and see if you were in it – no luck.

“Just be careful man… I mean knowing her type she’ll probably back, but just remember what I said.” The grasp of Jinyoung’s hand on the water bottle tightened with Yugyeom’s words and he felt like something inside of him was going to snap soon. He wasn’t sure what he had done or said to welcome unsolicited advice from those around him. The reason he joined Alpha Gamma Omega was to be a part of a likeminded community with similar beliefs to his own. Never did he anticipate whatever this was.

“Girls like her… they’re sluts you know.”

Jinyoung turned to Yugyeom and shoved the water bottle into his hands almost violently, “what did you say?”

Yugyeom looked at him with wide eyes, as if not expecting this kind of reaction, “Jinyou-”

“Save it,” He spat.

Jinyoung didn’t want to be anywhere near Yugyeom or the AGO house. Maybe you were right when you alluded to him putting on a nice guy act. He probably had been for the last two years he was a part of the org – judging others, thinking he was better than others involved in Greek life, just because he was in a Christian frat. For some reason meeting you and having you question his “goodness” caused him to finally wake up from the fantasy of the person who he had thought he was all along.

By the time Jinyoung reached the end of his self-loathing thoughts, he realized he had carried himself all the way over to your sorority house. He knew he probably shouldn’t even be standing on your front doorstep, but something in him stopped him from turning around. Instead, he reached out to ring the doorbell.

“Can I help you?” a girl asked, poking her head out through the door.

He cleared his throat, “yeah actually… I’m looking for-” that’s when Jinyoung cut himself off and realized that he actually didn’t know who he was looking for. He had never got your name… All he knew about you was were you lived… and that’s pretty much it.

The girl looked at Jinyoung in confusion, glancing at the letters he was wearing and sighed, “You’re from AGO?”

He nodded, “I actually don’t know her name…”

She waved her hand as if this was a usual thing and opened the door more to welcome him inside, “let me see what I can do for you… Just wait here.” The girl begins to head up the stairs of the house, then Jinyoung suddenly remembers a detail, “she went out last Friday night if that helps.”

She laughed at him and shook her head, continuing her walk up the stairs, “typical AGO,” she muttered. For once in his career at Alpha Gamma Omega, Jinyoung doesn’t feel hurt or annoyed by her assessment of him. She was right.

“Hey do any of you guys fuck an AGO?” you heard one of your sorority sisters, Melanie ask through your headphones. Taking the music listening devices out of your ears you went to your open doorway, “what did you say?”

Melanie glanced over in your direction as she thanked one of the other open rooms for participating in what sounds like a very strange survey.

“There’s a guy downstairs from AGO and it’s pretty sad, he’s looking for someone in the house but doesn’t even know her name. He’s here’s so late I’m just assuming that he must be looking for someone he slept with,” she gets a panicked look on her face, “fuck do you think one of us took the dude’s virginity and now he’s here to kill us all?”

You smiled tightly at Melanie. Some of the girls in the house were not the brightest.

“Don’t jump to conclusions like that Melanie… I doubt most girls in the house would go even within ten feet of a guy from Alpha Gamma Omega.”

“Well… what about you? Do you know anyone from AGO?”

You were about to shake your head no and deny knowing anyone over there, but then you stopped yourself. It couldn’t be… could it?

“Why don’t I just go down there and take care of this?” Somehow your words made her exhale and she looked instantly relieved, “thanks so much Y/N. Also do be warned… he is kinda good looking. Ugh I can’t believe I just said that.”

Nodding at her, she thanked you a final time before disappearing down the hallway to her bedroom.

There was no way it could be Jinyoung… right?

Despite your initial thought that it couldn’t be Jinyoung, when you reached the bottom of the stairs, you’re met with the back of the same boy you met a week ago. It was creepy but you could tell it was him just by the way he stood, with his shoulders back and posture erect. You don’t say anything, not wanting to sneak up on him, but you took notice of the way he seemed to be talking to himself. For a moment you swear you heard him ask himself what he was doing here.

That would make two of you.

“Jinyoung?” You said to grab his attention. He quickly turned around to face you and it’s easy to sense how weird he feels just being in your sorority house. It made you even more confused as to why he’s there.

“H-hey… you…” He wished he could greet you properly, but he still doesn’t know your name. That detail isn’t lost on you, but as you had told him before, you weren’t really sure if there was a reason to give him your name. The two of you didn’t really “mix” well.

“What’s up?”

For some reason this response to Jinyoung showing up at your house annoyed him. Sure, he hadn’t originally intended in coming here after his outburst with Yugyeom, his feet made the final decision to arrive at your home this late at night, but the nonchalant “what’s up” irked him.

He decided to take a risk by asking you what had been his mind for the last few hours he had been stationed at the AGO house handing out pancakes. “Why didn’t you come by the house tonight?” The tone shocked you. Rather than the gentleness he had spoken to you last week when he walked you home, this was something else entirely.

Unsure of what the acceptable answer would be to please him, you went with the obvious response – the truth, “I just didn’t need to go over there tonight… You know despite what you and your brothers might think, I don’t get wasted every single weekend.”

There was also the fact that tonight you had thought about going over there many, many times. You had even got dressed three different times and considered pretending like you had gone out tonight, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You were too scared of what your friends would think, what the AGO members would think and most importantly what Jinyoung would think.

At your words, once again Jinyoung felt attacked. He didn’t know why it was so important to prove himself to you or why it mattered so much that you didn’t show up at the house tonight. Now you probably had an even worse impression of him for coming over to your place at nearly two in the morning. Something that would never be condoned by the guys he lives with.

“I know that. I was just hoping that…” he drifted off and your breath hitches. You think that maybe you know what he’s alluding to, but you want to hear him say it.

In any other situation, Jinyoung knows he wouldn’t say it. He would be too afraid or too stuck on what – once again – others would think. Instead, Jinyoung surprises both you and himself. He says it.

“I was hoping that you would want to see me again as much as I wanted to see you,” Jinyoung takes a step towards you and it feels as though you’re about to fall apart at any moment, “I don’t really understand or know why… but I feel this weird pull towards you.” You could tell he was getting shy from the way he looked down at his feet and dragged them against the hardwood floor of the foyer.

Nervously, you tapped your fingers against your thigh to distract you from instantly agreeing with him – to tell him that you knew exactly what pull he was referring to. Alternately, you fill the conversation with more doubt, “then why did you reject me that night?”

His mouth hung wide open and he became perplexed, unsure of what you were talking about.

“What do you mean rejected you?”

You brought your hands up from your thighs and crossed your arms against your chest, “I asked you to come up and drink with me.”

Jinyoung’s eyes fluttered closed as if thinking about something. As quick as he shut them, he opened them at the same suddenness, “I didn’t mean it as a rejection. I just didn’t think it would be a good idea…”

Shrugging your shoulders, “In normal Greek life that’s rejection Jinyoung.”

He brings his hand to massage the back of his neck, “I really didn’t realize it was that… complex. Sorry. You’ll have to be patient with me about those kinds of things. It’s true what they say about AGO, we really don’t pick up on social cues very well.”

You’ll have to be patient with me.

His words rang in your ears and you swore you heard a Harry Styles song play in your head as you looked at him smile sheepishly at you.

“I…” somehow the words are hard to get out, you’re not used to being this candid with a guy – especially not sober, “I know what you mean about a pull.”

Jinyoung took another step forward towards you and you exhaled deeply at his closeness. He was just close enough to-

“C-can I kiss you?” he stuttered and you felt your heart skip a beat. You would be lying if you said that you hadn’t been thinking about Jinyoung all week. The eye crinkles, his pink lips and the softness of his tone, it had all played on repeat in your mind. The stupid rejection thing didn’t even matter anymore.

When you didn’t answer right away, you heard him take a deep breath in, “I know it’s kind of forward, but I really want to kiss you.”

Your eyes flickered down to his lips and you wet your own instinctively. A thought suddenly enters your head and you begin to wonder how many times he’d done this before. Was he a rookie just as he had been when it came to drinking? Not that it mattered to you… you were just curious and-

“I have kissed girls before you know… I’m not a prude. Now please just let me.” His desperation to put his lips on yours makes you realize that you’re just as desperate if not more to feel his mouth move against yours.

“Please,” you murmured.

He leaned his head forward closer into you until his lips just ghosted over yours. Bringing his hand in between your faces, he traced the line of your cheekbone until your cheek laid in the palm of his hand and he cupped it gently. Finally, he closed the space between your lips and connects them softly. It’s clear that he feels hesitant, scared and excited all at the same time, but you let him control the pace not wanting to push him.

Soon you felt him relax more into the kiss and you could sense how delicate he was being as his lips moved softly against yours, treating you like a china doll that he wanted to protect. You’d had many kisses with many guys before, but none like this. Those were just kisses and this was much more than a kiss. Behind this kiss you could sense Jinyoung’s fondness for you, his intrigue, his longing and his desperation for the two of you to be in a different time, a different place and a different space. You felt it all from him. Every single emotion. It made you feel dizzy, the moment blurring satisfaction that you had never felt from just a kiss. You had never wanted anyone like this before.

You sighed into the kiss and Jinyoung pressed you even closer to him, kissing you harder and more feverishly. It was a side of him you hadn’t been expecting you, but it made you smile against his lips, wanting him closer, closer and closer.

When you finally break apart, Jinyoung breathed heavily and you’re surprised you can let out any air at all. It felt like he had taken all the breath out of you and consumed every piece of you. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, but simply stared at you until you broke out into giggles, looking down shyly.

“Y/N,” you whispered, finally telling him your name and he felt his heart flip.

He grinned, “Well Y/N... I could definitely do that again.”

So he does and your mind becomes dazed once again, not thinking about the rest of the world or what anyone thought about the two of you.

For right now it was just you and Jinyoung, and somehow that was enough.

#got7 fanfic #got7 #park jinyoung fanfic #jinyoung fanfic #park jinyoung #got7 fic

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allegra-writes · 6 years ago

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Peter Parker NSFW Alphabet

Hi! Could I please please please get a cute and a NSFW alphabet with Peter? Thanks!💕

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He’s the most tender and thoughtful of lovers. He just loves to lay in bed with you in his arms for hours, just holding you close, and caressing your back or your arms or any part of your body he can reach, really. He could spend entire days and nights like that, just laying next to your naked form, tangling his finger with yours and talking. His pillow talk is the most interesting too, he can talk about everything from quantum physics and the intricacies of how gravity bends space-time to how Brussel’s sprouts are just basically fun sized cabbages.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He’s not one for vanity and he actually kinda doesn’t like how bulky he’s gotten since that spider bite years ago. But he likes that he it made him strong. He likes being strong to protect you, and even to help you with domestic, ordinary things, like moving your couch up four flight of stairs to your dorm room. And of course, he loves being strong enough be able to carry you and hold you up with just one arm without any effort, to fuck you standing up without needing a wall for support.

His favorite body part of yours are your legs and where they lead: he loves your feet, your calves, your strong thighs, your gorgeous butt and… well, you can guess. He loves having those legs around him, either while he pounds into you, or while he carries you swinging on his webs across New York, or making out with you sitting on the kitchen counter while he stands between them. He just loves how he fits perfectly there, like that’s where he belongs.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He loves to mark you, he loves physical manifestations of you being his. But he hates to hurt you, and he refuses to leave lasting marks like hickeys -that, admittedly, are pretty painful because of his super strength- and bruises on purpose, that’s just out of question for him.

So, the alternative he so creatively found, is to mark you with his come. He still loves to come inside you, but pulling out just in time and paint your chest, your belly or your butt in white ribbons just drives him crazy

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He has heightened senses, and his sense of smell is no exception. He has an unconfirmed theory that he can perceive pheromones, at least on some level. Specifically, human pheromones. More specifically, yours.

He thinks that because your perfume drives him insane. Not like the bottled perfume you use when you guys go on dates, but your natural scent. It smells like home. It smells like mate.

It’s just so animalistic, so feral that he would never tell you, but sometimes, when you are away, he buries his face on your pillow or your clothes, and gets himself off like that, solely on the smell of you.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

While he is not underage, thank you very much, he is young. So he’s had some experience but not a lot.

However, he is a fast learner, and pleasuring you is a fascinating subject for him. He painstakingly catalogs and commits your reactions to memory, and quickly becomes an expert on you and what you like.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

As mentioned before, he loves having you wrapped around him, so the lotus, missionary, standing up or up against a wall, anything with a lot of skin on skin contact.

Positions like doggy style, the necklace of Venus, etc, just don’t feel close enough. He wants intimacy, he wants to look at you in the eyes when he makes you fall apart, he wants to bury himself deep into you, he wants as much of you as he can get.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Not as much goofy as he is playful; he likes to make you smile and he likes to have fun in bed, but it’s sex, it’s not stand up comedy.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He shaved everything off once. It was itchy and miserable and he’s NOT doing that again. Like, ever.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Peter Parker wears his heart on his sleeve. The bedroom is not exception. What he feels for you is deep, it’s fiery, it’s all consuming, and it translates into meaningful, intense sex. Even when he fucks you roughly it still is making love, because he loves you and he just can’t hide it or turn it off. Not that you would want him to, anyway.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

His sex drive is quite high, so he masturbates a couple times a day if you are not near or simply not in the mood.

K= Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Don’t let those big brown innocent eyes fool you, he is a kinky bastard.

In real life he respects -and actually loves- your independence, and how powerful and empowered you are. But in bed, his possessive streak is released. He loves to dominate you, call you his own, make you beg. More than once he webbed your hands to the headboard, or tied you up in beautiful, intricate kinbaku or shibari designs using his web.

He also has a huge praise kink, always telling you how beautiful you are, how good you are, how perfect for him. He calls you his Queen. And it goes both ways, because he is such a sucker for you telling him how great he is, how good he feels. It’s not exactly dirty talk, but it’s hot non the less.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

While any place he can get you alone is good enough for a hot make out session, for the actual sex he prefers the bedroom. Or anywhere in your apartment, as long as he can be sure you two are alone and not likely to get interrupted. He’s NOT into exhibitionism or public sex, he can’t stand the risk of someone walking in and accidentally see you like this. He respects you too much for that.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

You are his biggest turn on. Your body, the way you move, the helpless little moans you make when he hits that spot… yeah, he doesn’t need anything else to get him going.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He won’t ever endanger you or hurt you in anyway. He could never stand to cause you pain. So nothing like breath play, or spanking, etc. Even when he plays with ropes (or webs), he’s always making sure you are ok. Your safety is the most important thing for him.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He is a giver, his greatest pride is to make you fall apart. Add to that the way the taste of you drives him wild and, well… He could -and have- spend hours between your legs.

He is not as much into receiving it because he’s afraid of loosing control and hurt you by pounding into your mouth too roughly (sometimes having super strength can have disadvantages), but you will convince him of indulging in it every once in a while.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He can be both, it truly just depends on his mood at the moment.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He is more of a fan of long marathon sex sessions, he likes to be able to take his time and have his way with you as he pleases. But you both are busy individuals and sometimes, when you have been separated by long periods of time (Like, a week. Hey, it’s a long time for him!), His aching for you get to be too much, and he’ll take you anyway he can. At those times is urgent, and passionate, and frenzied and just so hot!

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He’s curious, definitely would try anything once, as long as it’s safe for you of course.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

There’s a reason he likes marathon sex, he has the stamina to go for hours, maybe even days. Anything shorter can appease him but won’t fully satiate his hunger for you.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He’s extremely creative and good at using everyday objects as toys. In his talented hands, an electric toothbrush or a snake venom extractor can become the perfect tool for the most exquisite torture.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He likes to tease you to the point of it being almost unbearable, until you are a moaning, begging mess. Then and only then will he give in to you. And to his own need, because the truth is he wants you just as badly and desperately, he just has slightly better control.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Peter is a very expressive guy, and it’s no different in bed. He makes the hottest (and horniest) faces during sex, and yes, the hottest sounds too. Starting with little moans and growls at the beginning, as his pleasure increases so does his volume. He can get very loud when he comes, and you always can tell when he is close because he swears a lot.

You love it, because it makes it so easy to know when he likes something, and makes you feel so powerful, even in your more submissive roll, to know it’s you the one that’s making him feel so good, the one he wants so badly that it almost physically hurts.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He is a great photographer, he has an aesthetic Instagram he is quite proud of. But by far his best work, at least according to him, is the huge collection of pictures he has of you.

Always analogic, he takes the time to develop the film himself, at home. And not just because of his love of old school photography, but because even if most of them are artistic close ups and compositions, some of them are just filthy and unadulterated porn. And in all of them you are very clearly naked.

And he’s a smart guy, he knows just how easily a device or system can be hacked, so there is no way he is taking any chances of exposing you like that by being dumb enough to have any image of you in digital format. No, that’s a show for his eyes only.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

The spider bite that gave him those drool worthy biceps and lickable abs, gave him… other… mouthwatering… assets. Impressive assets.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

To misquote Dr. Banner, that’s Peter’s secret: He always wants you.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He’s highly energetic so it takes a lot to wear him out. And I mean a lot. But afterwards, he has the most restful sleep, secure in the knowledge that the most important thing in the world to him, is protected and sleeping in his arms.

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker imagines #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader smut #peter parker hot #tom holland hot #tom holland imagine

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heartofether · 4 years ago

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Episode 16 - Lorelei TRANSCRIPT

[You can listen to the show wherever you get your podcasts, or go to our “Listen” page if you’re on desktop.]

VAL

Warning: This episode contains discussions and descriptions of child abuse, and may not be suitable for all audiences. For exact time stamps and a full list of content warnings, please check the show notes. We suggest you check the content warnings regardless, since this is a bit of an intense episode, and contains instances of panic attacks, screaming, and violence. Listener discretion is advised.

AUTOMATED VOICE

[VERY SLOWED DOWN] Please state your message.

[THEME SONG PLAYS.]

VAL

Three-eyed Frog Presents: The Heart of Ether.

[THEME SONG FADES TO A STOP.]

[PHONE BEEP.]

[INT./EXT. OUTSIDE OF LORELEI FOSTER’S HOUSE, DAYTIME.]

[THE SOUND OF A RAVEN CAWING IS HEARD IN THE BACKGROUND.]

AGENT JUNE

Jeez, this place smells like a zoo.

AGENT MAY

I need to introduce the recording. Interview with Lorelei Foster, at her home. Part of Operation Saturn, phase 1.2. Conducted by Agents May and June. All— [CUTTING HIMSELF OFF] June, hey, stay in the car!

[AS HE TALKS, AGENT JUNE IS HEARD OPENING THE CAR DOOR AND STARTING TO STEP OUT.]

AGENT JUNE

What? Come on, dude, I’m getting impatient.

AGENT MAY

We’ll go up to her door in a minute. There’s just—I need to ask you something first.

AGENT JUNE

Oh. Why didn’t you just say so?

[HE CLIMBS BACK INTO THE CAR, CLOSING THE DOOR. AGENT MAY SIGHS.]

AGENT MAY

[SLIGHTLY NERVOUS] You are aware of the case of Lorelei Foster, correct?

AGENT JUNE

Uh, obviously. She was a part of some coven and they all went missing except for her. She moved to this house way outside of town and refused to show her face.

AGENT MAY

Well, under the naming conventions of Valencia and Wood, the Foundation believes that Lorelei Foster is what is known as a “Beastly.” What she could be capable of—it’s not something to play around with. Okay? She could be dangerous. Not deadly, per say, but still potentially devastating in her power.

AGENT JUNE

[PANICKED SARCASM] Wow, that’s super comforting, Agent May.

AGENT MAY

Just don’t say or do anything stupid, alright? Also, if when we see her, she looks, you know, different, don’t comment on it. Act like you don’t even notice.

AGENT JUNE

That’s all? Well, don’t worry about it, then. I’ve never judged a book by its cover. I’ll just stand there and act as well-behaved as I always do.

AGENT MAY

[UNDER HIS BREATH] That’s what I feared.

[THEY BOTH GET OUT OF THE CAR AND WALK UP TO HER FRONT DOOR. IT'S A LOVELY DAY OUTSIDE, WITH BIRDS CHIRPING AS IF NOTHING IS WRONG. AGENT MAY KNOCKS.]

AGENT MAY

Ms. Foster? This is Agents May and June. We’re with the Harper Foundation. We’re here to ask you a few questions.

[A RAVEN CAWS AS THERE IS NO RESPONSE.]

AGENT JUNE

Maybe she’s not home?

AGENT MAY

I don’t believe she ever leaves her house. Look at her car. It’s untouched. I’m sure she even gets her groceries delivered, somehow.

[HE KNOCKS AGAIN.]

AGENT MAY

We do not wish to harm you or bring you into custody, Ms. Foster. We won’t tell anyone what you are or what you’re doing here. We simply believe you may have some helpful insight on Ether. Just let us ask a few things, and then we’ll be out of your way.

[THERE’S A LONG PAUSE.]

AGENT JUNE

Maybe it’s a lost cause. Well, at least we can say we tried. Guess we should just—

[AS HE’S TALKING, THE DOOR CREAKS OPEN JUST A CRACK.]

LORELEI

You do not plan on taking photographs, do you?

AGENT MAY

We’re recording this over audio. Nobody will see your face except for the two of us, we promise.

AGENT JUNE

Yeah, don’t sweat it. We’re not gonna—[STARTLED] Oh my god!

[AS HE SPEAKS, LORELEI OPENS THE DOOR THE REST OF THE WAY TO REVEAL HER TRUE FORM.]

LORELEI

Is there a problem?

AGENT MAY

Not at all, Ms. Foster. Apologizes for my colleague, he is—

AGENT JUNE

[NERVOUSLY BLUFFING] I have a fear of new people. Yup. Terrified of ‘em.

AGENT MAY

[PLAYING ALONG] It’s tragic, really. Makes our job incredibly difficult.

LORELEI

[SUSPICIOUS] Quite.

[A BEAT.] Well, you said you had questions?

AGENT MAY

That we do. May we come in?

LORELEI

I would advise against it. Terrance is a pacifist when around me, but I am unsure of how he would react to new people.

AGENT JUNE

And who is Terrance, exactly?

LORELEI

A bear. [SADLY] Used to be a friend.

[A BEAR GROWLS IN THE BACKGROUND. AGENT JUNE MAKES A WEAK NOISE OF FEAR.]

LORELEI

I am still unsure whether his calm nature is because he maintained his human consciousness, or if I have some level of control over him that makes him do as I wish. Perhaps a mix of both.

AGENT MAY

Did you make him this way?

LORELEI

That much should be obvious, don’t you think? Assuming you really know what you’re talking about, and you’re not just bluffing.

AGENT MAY

We are somewhat familiar with your kind, but we’re always looking to learn more.

LORELEI

[SHE SCOFFS.] Is that what this is? You view me as a learning opportunity? Like a sample dragged in by the biology teacher for lab day?

AGENT MAY

Of course not. We’re just trying to learn more about Ether.

AGENT JUNE

I am very curious about how you managed to do it, though, if you care to indulge us?

[THERE’S A PAUSE.]

LORELEI

[SOLEMN] I never asked for any of this. When we attempted the ritual, our hope was that by the end of it, all of us would obtain the same level of power. Valencia told me it would never work. I had quite the rebellious streak back then, though. I didn’t believe him. Perhaps I should have.

If I had known that all of that power would have been channeled into me, I never would have attempted it. Now that time has passed, I realize how useless of a power it even is. What made Ether decide to curse me with it, I’ll never know. Perhaps we didn’t speak clearly enough when we did the ritual.

I had no idea what my limits were, or how to use my abilities. The consequences, of course, were far greater than I could have ever imagined. Terrance and Abigail were both accidents. Clementine, I turned her into a spider in a fit of rage. Scott happened when I was sobbing my eyes out, and he made the mistake of trying to comfort me. I am unsure if I intended to turn him into a snake or not. By the time River was the only one left, they came to me and asked to be turned into a cat. They said they knew I was bound to do it eventually, and they wanted to choose what animal they became. I did as they wished.

[JUST AS SHE SAYS THAT, A RAVEN FLIES OVER AND SQUAWKS. AGENT JUNE STARTLES, YELPING AT THIS.]

LORELEI

[SHE GIVES A DRY CHUCKLE.] I don’t think Abigail likes you.

AGENT MAY

You mentioned the consequences were far greater than you could have imagined. Was that in reference to the loss of your friends?

LORELEI

Oh, don’t make me say it. It would have been one thing if I simply turned my entire coven into my own little petting zoo. Now, however, I can never escape my own errors, even if I were to leave them all behind. I am forever haunted by the marks my ability has left. The bear paw that has become of my left hand. The raven feathers in my hair. The spider eyes sprawled across my face. The venom that drips from my fangs and burns my lips. And oh, how disappointing having the tail of a cat is, despite how elegant I thought it would be when I was a little girl. Cats used to be my favorite animal. They aren’t anymore.

AGENT MAY

Don’t you think River would take offense to that?

LORELEI

Hm. Perhaps you’re right.

[A CAT MEOWS FROM INSIDE.]

AGENT MAY

How did you access Ether’s power?

LORELEI

The same way I’m sure most people have. We did a ritual. Just as most of them do, it went wrong.

AGENT MAY

Do you know where exactly it went wrong?

[A PAUSE.]

LORELEI

Can I be honest with you? I have had years to think long and hard about the events that transpired that night. I read through our plans over, and over again, hoping to find a way to undo it all. After all of that, I came to the conclusion that whatever fault it was—whatever slip of the tongue or missing ingredient it could have been—none of it would have mattered.

Ether chooses who to favor and who to damn by the luck of a draw. Flip of a coin. It knows no order. It will do what it pleases. It is not a person, or a sentient being—it is a random number generator that can grant unlimited power if you get lucky. It’s a lottery of stones, however. Nobody is ever really winning, even those as fortunate as the Forget-Me-Nots, or those well-off enough to never hear about Ether at all.

[A PAUSE, THEN] Do you have any other questions? I’m rather sure my pets are looking forward to their dinner.

AGENT MAY

Just one: where is the heart of Ether?

[A PAUSE.]

LORELEI

I would be careful, if I were you. I’ve heard things, rumors, about your little project. Though I doubt you fully understand the dangers, seeing as you’re just the worker bees, hm?

AGENT MAY

It’s not my place to question, I’m afraid.

LORELEI

Perhaps you should. Never does anyone any good, blindly following orders.

[AS THEY TALK, RIVER MEOWS, PURRING AS SHE RUBS AGAINST AGENT JUNE'S LEGS.]

AGENT JUNE

[WHISPERING TO THE CAT] Ah—hey! Go away! Shoo!

AGENT MAY

If you could answer the question, I promise we’ll be out of your hair.

LORELEI

Hm. I’m afraid I can’t be of much help. For years, people believed Ether resided in the sky, but that is untrue. Though, during the brief window Valencia was willing to speak to me, he did tell me he had a theory—

[AGENT JUNE CUTS HER OFF BY SNEEZING.]

AGENT JUNE

[MUTTERS] Stupid cat!

[RIVER HISSES.]

LORELEI

[OFFENDED] I would appreciate it if you did not insult my animals.

AGENT JUNE

[CONGESTED] Then tell River to leave me the hell alone. Can’t you control them, or whatever? At least use your freaky powers to—

AGENT MAY

[OVERLAPPING] Agent June—!

AGENT JUNE

I just want this damn—

[THERE’S A TENSE PAUSE AS HE REALIZES LORELEI IS GLARING INTENTLY AT HIM.]

AGENT JUNE

I mean, uh, this lovely cat, to uh…I’m so sorry, ma’am, this has been incredibly rude of me.

LORELEI

[A BEAT.] What was your name, again?

AGENT JUNE

Juh—uh, Agent June?

LORELEI

Agent June. [SHE SAYS THE NAME WITH DISDAIN.] Agent June, do you have a favorite animal, by chance?

AGENT MAY

[WHISPERING, PANICKED] Don’t say anything. Just thank her and let’s go before—

AGENT JUNE

[OVERLAPPING] I don’t know. Uh, have you ever heard of Sonic the Hedgehog?

LORELEI

[MIXED WITH CONFUSION AND DISGUST] Sonic. The Hedgehog.

AGENT JUNE

[NERVOUS RAMBLING] Yeah! I was obsessed with those games growing up, and so I went through this whole phase where I wanted a pet hedgehog really bad, but my parents never let me have one. Said I was too irresponsible, or whatever. That dream kinda, like, carried over into my adult life though?

LORELEI

[NODDING] So, hedgehogs.

AGENT JUNE

Um, sure.

LORELEI

I see.

[A PAUSE.]

LORELEI

I do hope you’re happy with that choice, Agent June.

[A HIGH-PITCHED RINGING IS HEARD AS SHE REACHES HER HAND OUT. AGENT JUNE STARTS SPUTTERING IN FEAR.]

[EERIE AND TENSE MUSIC BEGINS TO PLAY.]

AGENT JUNE

[TERRIFIED] What the—?

AGENT MAY

Shit.

[AGENT MAY IS HEARD PULLING OUT A DART GUN AND SHOOTING A TRANQUILIZER DART AT LORELEI. SHE CRIES OUT A BIT, BEFORE STUMBLING, AND THEN COLLAPSING.]

AGENT JUNE

Did you just tranquilize her?

AGENT MAY

I didn’t have a choice. Come on, get in the car. The full effect only lasts forty-five seconds.

[THEY BOTH FRANTICALLY CLIMB INTO THE CAR, SLAMMING THE DOORS AS THEY GET IN.]

AGENT MAY

Are you okay? Did she change you at all?

AGENT JUNE

[HYPERVENTILATING] No, no! But it—this really weird feeling washed over me, like, like my body was trying to fit into a smaller one, I—that was the worst thing I’ve ever felt, oh my god.

AGENT MAY

[ATTEMPTING TO SOOTHE] Agent June, calm down. You’re safe now, okay?

AGENT JUNE

Yeah, only because of you. You just saved my life. I mean, technically, I would have survived, but I would have had to live out the rest of my days as a hedgehog!

AGENT MAY

[FRUSTRATED] Maybe if you had been able to hold your damn tongue for thirty seconds, this wouldn’t have happened.

[AS HE TALKS, AGENT MAY STARTS THE CAR AND SPEEDS AWAY, THE TIRES SQUEALING.]

AGENT JUNE

I’m sorry I was having an allergic reaction!

AGENT MAY

That’s no excuse for you to have said the things you did. I told you to keep it together.

AGENT JUNE

Stop trying to blame all of this on me. I don’t care if it’s my fault, I almost just lost my humanity. Do you know how horrifying that was?

AGENT MAY

[HE INHALES SHARPLY.] No, you’re right. You’re not entirely to blame for what just happened.

If only she had at least finished her sentence about Valencia’s theory.

AGENT JUNE

[GUILTILY] Yeah, that was pretty poor timing, huh?

AGENT MAY

We’ll find out one way or another. Might have to go back to Irene Gray.

AGENT JUNE

Ah yes, the other enemy we’ve made in this town.

AGENT MAY

I guess we’re going to have to find a way to change that, then. [A BEAT.] Turn off the recording, please.

[SOME SHUFFLING AS AGENT JUNE MOVES TO TURN THE RECORDER OFF.]

[PHONE BEEP.]

[RECORDING ENDS.]

[ANOTHER BEEP.]

[EXT. LEMONGRASS PARK, NIGHT.]

[IRENE IS SITTING IN HER CAR. THERE ARE CRICKETS HEARD IN THE BACKGROUND.]

IRENE

I’m parked in front of Lemongrass Park. To be honest, I’ve never actually been here, even though it’s so close to my house. It’s small, but it’s a nice park. There’s a swing set, a seesaw, one of those metal slides that would always burn my skin during the summer. Some nice trees, too.

[REMINISCING] Do you remember when we would go to the park late at night? It was really stupid of us to go there after dark, honestly, it’s a miracle nothing ever happened. Well, I mean, you did hurt your leg that one time you fell off the swing, which I still feel bad about. It felt so serene, though. Like we were the only people in the world. We were still clinging onto our childhood innocence, and you, you were so fond of that park near your house, and I was so fond of the way you laughed. You’ll love this park, too, I think, if you ever get to see it. You always loved places where—

Wait, hold on, I think—I think Sadie’s waving at me. She’s sitting over on one of the swings. At least, I think it’s her? Not quite what I expected her to look like, but then again, I don’t know what I was expecting. She’s wearing all black, and has a striped shirt underneath her t-shirt, even though it’s hot as hell. Is this how emo kids dress these days? I think Aden said something about “e-girls” or something. [SHE SCOFFS.] Jeez, I need to start keeping track of these things. I feel so old.

She’s also wearing a black fabric surgical mask, with a white design? I’ve hardly seen people wear those outside of the medical profession—I mean, there was one time, but that was an outlier. [SHE SAYS THIS PART UNCOMFORTABLY BECAUSE THIS IS REFERRING BACK TO THE FIRST TRAILER.]

It must be her, though. Otherwise, why would she be waving at me? I have the box of film in the passenger’s seat. Avery and I talked today, and they were incredibly vocal about how bad of an idea this was, but they said I’m an adult and can make my own choices.

Avery is…well. I think they have good intentions at heart. They act indifferent all the time, and they’re incredibly mature, but they seem…I don’t know. Sometimes, there’s this, fear, maybe? That bleeds through when they speak. I think they try to hide it. Reminds me they’re still, technically, a kid.

Right, I feel kinda awkward sitting here while Sadie is staring at me. Guess I should get this over with.

[IRENE GRABS THE BOX OF FILM AND STEPS OUT OF HER CAR. SHE WALKS TOWARDS SADIE. WHENEVER SADIE TALKS, HER VOICE IS JUST SLIGHTLY MUFFLED.]

SADIE

[FROM AFAR] Irene, right?

IRENE

Yup!

SADIE

Wonderful!

[SADIE WALKS OVER TO IRENE.]

SADIE

I’ll take that.

[SHE'S HEARD TAKING THE CARDBOARD BOX FROM IRENE.]

SADIE

Looks heavy! How many photos did you take?

IRENE

[HANDING THE BOX OFF] Thank you, uh, I didn’t take these, though.

SADIE

I see. That’s a bummer. I thought I’d met a person of similar passions.

IRENE

Sorry to disappoint.

SADIE

Don’t stress it! Where did you get the film, then?

IRENE

[LYING] It’s from one of my dead relatives.

SADIE

Mm. Sorry to hear that.

IRENE

It was a while ago, so it's okay.

SADIE

They sure took lots of photos. Do you have any idea what they photographed?

IRENE

No clue.

SADIE

Well, I’ll do my best to get this developed. I’m staying with my uncle for part of the summer, and he never uses his dark room, so I have it all to myself. You know, he has this massive house, spends lots of money on rooms he never uses every time he gets a new hobby.

IRENE

Odd he chose Daughtler of all places to stick it.

SADIE

You know, that’s what I said! My professor went green with envy when I told her about it, though. She said this is a perfect town to take pictures.

IRENE

You’re a student, then?

SADIE

Yup! Majoring in photography, in case that wasn’t already clear. [SHE GIGGLES.]

Anyways, I’ll try to get this developed for you as quickly as possible. It may take a while, ‘cause there’s so much of it, so would you like me to give it to you in batches?

IRENE

That would be great, yeah. Um, thank you. Are you sure I can’t pay you?

SADIE

Oh, please, don’t worry about it. Like I said, I’m just thankful for the opportunity.

So, any other questions for me? I’m happy to answer them.

IRENE

Um, I have a bit of a weird one.

SADIE

Hm?

IRENE

Why are you wearing a surgical mask? Is it, like, a germ thing, or are you sick?

[THERE’S A PAUSE.]

SADIE

I should go get started on this.

IRENE

Um, you didn’t—

SADIE

[AGGRESSIVELY CUTTING HER OFF] Pleasure working with you, Irene! I’ll get back to you about your first batch ASAP!

IRENE

[TAKEN ABACK] Oh. Okay, then. Um, bye.

SADIE

Later!

[IRENE WALKS TO HER CAR AND CLIMBS BACK INSIDE. THERE'S A PAUSE.]

IRENE

Well, that was interesting, for lack of a better term. Sadie seems fine? I guess I just got a bit too personal with the mask thing. I mean, if it makes her feel comfortable, I don’t see why she can’t wear it. I’ll try not to worry about it. As long as she can develop the photos, that’s what matters.

Though I am kind of worried. I mean, Valencia could have taken, well, suspicious photos, assuming they’re connected to his research. I have no idea. I guess we just have to hope? Sadie seems pretty okay with minding her own business, it seems, so if I’m lucky, she won’t question it.

[HER PHONE STARTS VIBRATING.]

IRENE

Oh, hang on. Avery is calling me.

[A BEEP AS SHE ANSWERS.]

IRENE

Hello?

AVERY

Just making sure you didn’t get murdered.

[AS AVERY TALKS, THERE IS THE SOUND OF MASHING VIDEO GAME CONTROLLER BUTTONS AND JOYSTICKS.]

IRENE

[SHE SCOFFS.] Well, I didn’t. Sadie was fine. You really had nothing to be worried about.

AVERY

[DISTRACTED] I mean, it’s still a really bad idea to be meeting someone in the park this late. Daughtler is a small town, but even if we don’t have much of a problem with normal creeps, weird stuff is still kind of the norm, you know?

IRENE

Yeah, I’ve gathered that much, I—wait, hang on, are you playing video games right now?

AVERY

Dude, it’s just Stardew Valley. It’s not like I’m fighting anything.

[A RAVEN CAWS FROM THE GAME.]

IRENE

[AWKWARDLY] I don’t know what that is.

AVERY

That’s because you’re old.

IRENE

Hey.

AVERY

[OVEREXAGGERATED, FAKE] Ah no, I just got attacked! I gotta hang up, sorry Irene!

IRENE

You just said there’s no—

[AVERY HANGS UP.]

IRENE

[DEFEATED] …combat.

[SHE HUFFS.] Talk to you later, I guess.

[PHONE BEEP.]

[RECORDING ENDS.]

[ANOTHER BEEP.]

[INT. THE APARTMENT ABOVE THE OPEN EYES BOOKSTORE, NIGHT. A BUDGIE IS OCCASIONALLY HEARD CHIRPING OR FLAPPING ITS WINGS IN THE BACKGROUND THROUGHOUT THE SCENE.]

[HOLLY IS HEARD SORTING THROUGH A GROCERY BAG AND SETTING THINGS ON THE COUNTER.]

HOLLY

Is it recording?

PHOEBE

Yes, it is.

HOLLY

Cool, cool. I got eggs, by the way. I know you talked about wanting to try to make pie at some point, and you were running low, so.

PHOEBE

[SLIGHTLY OVERLAPPING] Oh, um, thank you! Um, why were you out so late, anyways?

HOLLY

Hm? Oh, just a nighttime stroll.

PHOEBE

[WARY] I see.

[HOLLY WALKS OVER, AND SITS ON THE COUCH NEXT TO PHOEBE.]

HOLLY

Alright, then. You have the next letter? I guess all that’s left to do is open it.

[THERE'S A PAUSE AS HOLLY HESITATES.]

HOLLY

You sure you’re okay with me being in the room for this? I know her letters to you were, well, personal.

PHOEBE

It’s okay, don’t worry. I—I trust you. I’m sure Grandma Doe would, too.

HOLLY

[TENDERLY] That…that means a lot.

[A BEAT.] Go ahead, then.

[PHOEBE OPENS THE LETTER.]

PHOEBE

Phoebe, If you are reading this, I assume you have successfully completed the ritual. If it was not a success, well, I have a separate envelope marked for you to read. I suggest you find it.

HOLLY

Almost want to read the other one just to see what it says.

PHOEBE

[UNSETTLED] I don’t think that’s a good idea. If the alternative was that bad, well. I don’t want to think about what could have happened to me.

HOLLY

Fair, yeah. Continue.

PHOEBE

[SHE CLEARS HER THROAT.] If everything worked as well as I hope, then you have now stepped into your role as a Forget-Me-Not. I could not be more proud of you, little wildflower. What a lovely Forget-Me-Not you will be.

I have already warned you of some of the dangers, but now that this is your reality, I am going to begin to describe it all in more detail in order to prepare you. It is nothing I have not already mentioned in previous letters, however.

Now, let us start from the beginning: why did I name them the Forget-Me-Nots? Valencia thought it to be a rotten name. Too flowery, he said it was, too delicate. I believe it to be a sophisticated name. Better than the Hungry, or whatever other titles he’s come up with.

HOLLY

The hell is the Hungry?

PHOEBE

Um, I’m not sure. I’m sure we’ll find out?

HOLLY

Let’s hope.

PHOEBE

It goes on: Anyways, I called them the Forget-Me-Nots because it is not just about their quest for new knowledge. It is about the knowledge they already have. Sure, they know where to find any and all information, but what about that which is already within them? A Forget-Me-Not cannot forget anything. Even the tiniest detail, they will cling onto for the rest of their life. I still remember what I ordered at an Italian restaurant twenty-seven years ago. It was some mediocre chicken parmesan. The sauce was a bit too bitter for my taste, but I went back there because they had delightful breadsticks.

However, this is a double-edged sword. It is not just new information you will begin to retain. If only it was that simple. A Forget-Me-Not also remembers all which has happened before. This includes all of your life up to this point, from your early childhood, to more recent events.

When I chose you to be my predecessor, this is what I dreaded most. Your mother and I always considered it to be a blessing in disguise that you did not remember much of your childhood. I know you are aware of what happened, but the specifics are far worse than I think you’ve ever processed. I would not wish memories of that horrid time upon anyone, especially you. Your poor mother, my dear Agnes, she lives through them every day.

You may be forced to confront some of the memories of your father. The sick, rotten, vile man he was. I am eternally grateful I was able to save you from some suffering when you were a child, though I am deeply remorseful for all your mother put herself through. I wish I could be there to walk you through it all, to comfort you as you remember, but the circumstances are not in my favor.

You are stronger than you give yourself credit for, however, and you do not have to do it alone. Please do not hesitate to reach out to your mother if you find yourself needing the support. You could also talk to a friend—I’m assuming you have an abundance of those, you’re far too charming and sweet to not have any. Like I’ve said, isolation will only drain you of all you are. Nothing about this process will be easy, but I would not put you through it if I did not believe you could handle it.

Take your work slowly. Do not rush into it. Allow your mind to process the—

[PHOEBE SUDDENLY STOPS TALKING. THERE’S A LONG PAUSE.]

HOLLY

[A MIX OF CONFUSED AND CONCERNED] Phoebe?

PHOEBE

I— [A PAUSE, THEN] Sorry, sorry. Sorry. It’s just. [SHE TRAILS OFF.]

HOLLY

Is something wrong?

PHOEBE

Th—the letter, it’s just, um, got me thinking, I guess. About my father.

HOLLY

[CAUTIOUS] How much do you remember of him?

PHOEBE

[SHE GIVES A SHAKY CHUCKLE.] Oh, I’m trying to avoid that train of thought. I’m scared it will all come flowing in at once.

HOLLY

Oh, right, yeah. Try not to focus too much on it, okay?

PHOEBE

No, I’m okay, I just—I remember bits of it. More vividly, now, than I did before.

[WHAT FOLLOWS IS THE AFOREMENTIONED DESCRIPTION OF CHILD ABUSE. VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.]

PHOEBE

Have you seen the stuffed cow sitting on my bed? It’s so old and worn, but it’s one of the most precious things I own. Its name is Baby. It’s, um, a silly name, I know. I used to play pretend with it, though, and act like I was its mother. I cradled it, pretended to feed it. So I named it Baby. [A BEAT, THEN] I didn’t remember why I named it that until now.

My dad hated Baby, though. He hated that I was so attached to a stuffed cow, of all things. He would constantly use Baby to threaten me, holding his ability to take it away over my head, because he knew that was a quick way to make me upset. If it was his choice, I’m sure he would have destroyed it. Not sure why he never did.

One day, when he was in a bad mood, and my mom was at work, I hid Baby inside my closet. He stormed into my room, and demanded for me to give it to him. I lied and said I had no idea where Baby was, but of course he didn’t believe me. He tore through my room, ignoring my pleas for him to stop, until he found Baby and took it away. I was forced to clean up the mess he made before my mom got home.

When she did get home, I instantly went and hugged her legs tightly and sobbed. I told her that Daddy had taken Baby away, and ruined my room. She asked me to take her to my room, so I did, only to find Baby sitting on the bed, staring right back at me.

My dad came in. “Of course I didn’t take the stupid toy,” he said. “She probably just misplaced it.” My mom didn’t argue. I was outraged. How could she believe him? Looking back, however, she knew something was wrong. I know she did. Even as a kid, I could read it on her face. He didn’t give her a choice, though.

[A BEAT.] He let me keep Baby, at least. Though he warned me not to try to tell mom what he did ever again. Otherwise, he would be very upset with me.

[A WET CHUCKLE.] And I didn’t even face the worst of it. I would spend days, weeks even, here with Grandma Doe when my dad was especially bad. That’s why her and I were so close, and why I didn’t remember so much of what my dad did. My mom had to endure most of it, though. That is, until she was finally able to get a divorce. He was arrested for a few years, I never learned what for, but I hope it was for the right reasons. When he got out, my mom got a restraining order against him.

The last time I saw him was my eighth birthday. He didn’t get me anything.

[THERE'S A LONG PAUSE.]

HOLLY

I’m going to kill him.

PHOEBE

[NERVOUS CHUCKLE] I—I appreciate you caring, but—

HOLLY

[A BIT TOO ANGRY] No. I mean it. If he’s still alive, I’ll kill him.

PHOEBE

[SLIGHTLY STARTLED] I don’t know if he’s still alive. I mean, it’s not like I’ve made an effort to reach out to him, heh.

HOLLY

[A PAUSE, THEN, SINCERE AND EMOTIONAL] I’m so sorry.

PHOEBE

It—It’s okay! Really. I promise. It was a long time ago. It’s just…I’m not sure how much I’m going to remember. As time goes on. I mean, I’m sure I would have been forced to confront my childhood eventually, this is just kind of speeding up the process.

HOLLY

You can always come to me, you know. If it gets to be too much.

PHOEBE

I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you, Holly. Really.

HOLLY

Of course. Anything I can do. [A PAUSE.] Would a hug be okay?

PHOEBE

[SHE TAKES A SHAKY BREATH.] A hug would be nice.

[THERE ARE FABRIC RUSTLES AS THEY ARE HEARD EMBRACING.]

[PHONE BEEP.]

[RECORDING ENDS.]

AUTOMATED VOICE

Today's quote is: "In every couple there is one who is the historian of the relationship."

Susan Sontag in Reborn: Journals and Notebooks, 1947-1963.

[OUTRO MUSIC AND CREDITS PLAY.]

[AT THE END OF THE CREDITS, THERE IS A BRIEF, HIGH-PITCHED RINGING NOISE, THAT BEGINS TO BREAK UP BEFORE STOPPING ABRUPTLY.]

#heart of ether transcripts

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waiting4inspiration · 6 years ago

Text

Danity, but Bruised (Ivar x Reader)

Summary: As the dainty queen of Kattegat, you’re kidnapped by the Saxon’s as leverage to use to persuade Ivar to leave and not attack their city.

Warnings: little fluff in the beginning, most angsty

Vikings Masterlist

In the case of opposites attract, everyone thinks that you and Ivar are the exact definition of that ancient theory. Ivar the Boneless; a ruthless, unyielding warrior and king has you as his queen - a compassionate, dainty queen who will never pick up a sword or shed blood. At first, it was hard thinking that such a relationship is possible.

But as the moons passed, the people saw how much your personality compliments Ivar’s and how much he loves you. They didn’t need a shieldmaiden queen when they have you. Besides, with a king like Ivar, there needs to be someone with a calm mind beside him.

You’re basically like a mother to everyone in Kattegat. The people have never seen a queen care so much for their people before which only made their love for you grow. And you never need to learn how to fight. Not when you have an entire army that will do anything to ensure your safety.

Just because you can’t fight doesn’t mean that you have to stay behind every time your husband goes across the seas for a raid. You’ve sailed with him and the army multiple times only because you love seeing that pride of victory on Ivar’s face. And it’s not the same expression he has when he returns home. It’s that fresh look that makes you smile brightly.

This time is no different from other raids. You have been to this city before, so the familiarity makes you smile. The camping grounds you use has changed over the years, becoming greener from the rain which means the trees around are denser. This gives the army perfect cover, hiding them from the city’s eyes. But it also hides any scouts that the city may send.

“You’re sure you don’t want to come with me?” Ivar questions, wrapping his arms around your waist as his lips work their way across your shoulder and up your neck.

Turning around in his arms, you giggle up at him and place your hands on the side of his neck. “You know that I’m not the best person to have in your war council,” you remind, making his chuckle before leaning down to take your lips in his.

His fingers dig into the material of your dress that covers your hips as you lean into his kiss. “It won’t be a short meeting,” he mutters against your face, pulling back to rest his forehead against yours. “It might take all day.”

You know he’s trying to convince you to go with him so that he can keep himself occupied should things start to bore him. But you know that you’ll get bored along time before he does. “Then you best go now and get it over with, my love,” you giggle, running your hands down his chest to playfull push him away from you. “The sooner you go, the sooner you can come back to me.”

Ivar growls at your suggestive words and tries to step closer to you. But you hold up your hand and point to the flap of the tent that leads outside. Rolling his eyes at you, he turns around and mutters how stubborn you are as he walks out, causing a laugh to fall from your lips as he shakes his head.

Because you are in a foreign land, you decide to enjoy being here before leaving after the raid. Being fond of the nature that surrounds the camp and knowing that it will be a while before Ivar returns, you make your way past the borders of the camp and into the woods.

It’s something you would normally do before a raid. Giving you peace of mind and time to pray to the Gods for success and protection for Ivar and the army, your fingers touch the bark of every tree that you pass.

Being so invested in your thoughts, you don’t realize that the city that Ivar plans to invade has sent scouts to the camp and now that they’ve spotted you, they watch you like a hawk. Among the scouts is the prince of the city. He knows who you are. He’s seen you before. The first time you came to his father’s lands, you were right beside the heathen king, sharing in the victory of the invasion.

This prince also knows that you are not like the other women in this heathen army. You are no fighter. Which will make things a whole lot easier.

Nodding towards you, the princes silently informs the soldiers with him to take you. The soldier closest to you quickly immerges out of the dense bushes that hide him and quickly wraps a hand over your mouth to prevent you from screaming. But that doesn’t mean you won’t try.

Fighting against the man, you try to kick him or claw at him but more soldier immerge from the shrubbery to quickly stop your frantic movements. Binding your hands tightly together, you hiss at the feeling of the rope digging into your skin before you’re forced down to your knees.

The prince steps forward, waving the man with his hand clasped over your mouth away as you glare coldly at him. “If anyone can tell these heathens plans, or at least where their camp is, it’s their queen,” he speaks, standing in front of you with a wicked look on his face. “What do you say?”

“Go to Hel,” you sneer in your own language. The prince suspects that you might have insulted him from the venom dripping on your tone. Glaring at you, he takes one step forwards before backhanding your face making you whimper and fall to the ground.

The plans for invading the city went on longer than Ivar thought they would. Taking up almost all of the day, he’s just glad to be back at your shared tent. When he doesn’t see you at first, he doesn’t worry about it. Thinking that you might be walking around the camp, conversing with warriors, he doesn’t think that anything bad happened to you. Besides, no one in the army will let that happen.

A bustle of noise outside pulls him out the tent. On the borders of the camp is the soldier of the city. Every Viking warrior questions how they found the camp and what they want. It’s certainly not to attack because they would’ve done that. They only sit atop their horses, glaring coldly at the heathens filling the camp.

All they want is to escort Ivar and a select few men to the castle because the king of the has a deal to make with Ivar. They say that it’s a deal he won’t want to refuse. Curious at their words, Ivar agrees to go with them - with some of his men for security - hoping that he’ll be back before you return to the tent.

Ivar has never seen a more smug king sitting on a throne before. With the prince beside him and a wicked look on his face, Ivar feels that something is not right. Frowning at the both of the men in front of him, Ivar shifts in his spot, keeping his crutch close to him as the king stands to his feet.

“Ivar the Boneless, you have returned to my shores with the intention of more bloodshed and war,” the king hisses, Ivar smirking at him and licking his lips as he tilts his head to the side. “I don’t want to lose more of my men because of you and your army. So, I’ll make a deal with you.”

Ivar laughs at the king and quickly glances over his shoulder to the warriors that stand behind him. “You think you have something that will make me change my mind about raiding this city?” he questions with a shake in his head, the men behind him chuckling at his words.

“If you agree to leave our shores and never return,” he king starts, holding out his hand to the side. “I’ll return your wife.”

Snapping his head to where the king points to, he watches as a soldier drags you out of the shadows and towards the king. Throwing your body to the floor, you try to catch your body but fail due to the rope still binding your hands together. Ivar feels the rage buildup inside of him as the warriors behind him mutter curses and tightly grip the hilts of their weapons.

As you slowly lift your head, Ivar takes in a sharp breath at the sight of your bloodied face and bruised skin. The bruises run over your chest and some are scattered over your arms. Your body trembles as pain and fear flood your eyes that are glossed over with tears.

He doesn’t know how long you’ve been in their hands but from the dried blood and dirt that covers your skin and ripped dress, he can only imagine that it’s as long as he’s been in that war council.

Tearing his gaze away from your broken body to coldly stare at the king, Ivar’s jaw clenches as he gives a stiff nod, not being able to say a word with the anger building up inside of him.

The soldier behind you jerks you off the ground making a pained whimper escape your mouth and Ivar to take a step forward. Freeing your hands from the tightly wrapped rope, the soldier turns you around and pushed you forward making you stumble towards your husband.

Ivar catches you in his arms before you can fall and you allow yourself to cry into his chest. The cries falling from your lips makes the pent-up rage inside of him break and he lifts his head back up to the king. “I’ve agreed to your deal but I can’t speak if my men decide to disobey my orders to not attack,” he sneers, wrapping his arm around your shaking body as the warriors behind him step forward. “After all, you did hurt their queen.”

Tags: @tephi101 @rororo06 @flokidottir-imagines-br @mad4oak @nerdypisces160 @xinyourdreamsx @vikingaestheticsblog @xenavistania @medievalfangirl @chipster-21 @poisonous00 @mblaqgi @lol-haha-joke @inforapound @beacosta27 @walkxthexmoon @youbloodymadgenius @sallylebecks

#ivar the boneless imagine #ivar the boneless imagines #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar imagine #ivar imagines #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar #ivar ragnarsson #vikings ivar #ivar lothbrok #ivar's heathen army #vikings #history vikings #vikings imagine #vikings imagines

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amomentsescape · 5 years ago

Note

Can you do a 2nd part of Michael travelling to the apocalypse timeline? It was so good that left me intrigued to know more!! Because as we know he's still a stubborn boy and when he wants to finish something he would do it. He sneaks onto the machine at midnight and this time he was sent inside to the Sanctuary to speak with this other Michael about why he followed this path, just trying to underrstand him.

A/N: I didn’t realize how difficult it was to write for two characters with the same name lol. I hope it doesn’t get too confusing for you guys.

Warnings: A little bit of cussing per usual.

The Truth Part Two (Avenger! Michael Langdon)

(Part One)

Michael couldn’t help it. He had always been one to let curiosity get the better of him, and this was clearly no exception.

He knew the risk that he was putting on himself, which was exactly why he didn’t tell any of the other Avengers what he was doing. He would rather put himself in harm’s way than any of his family.

Because of this, he waited until the middle of the night when everyone else was surely asleep. He wasn’t willing to take any chances in case someone would see what he was up to.

As he stepped onto the platform, he took a deep breath in to try and calm his nerves.

Although he was slightly worried, he also knew that he was simply facing himself again. If his theory was true, then the other Michael had the same abilities as he did, meaning that a chance battle would at least be fought fairly.

Michael raised his hand up and used his powers to flip the necessary switches on the control panel, quickly hitting the last button with a flick of his finger.

Within a second, Michael found himself in a dark compound of some sort. The only means of light were coming from dimly lit candles, making it difficult for him to see what was in this room.

As he turned around slowly, his eye caught slight movement, realizing who it was in an instant.

“Do you have a death wish?” the other Michael questioned, obviously annoyed that his alter ego had returned.

“I’m not here to harm you. I’m also not here to change anything you are planning on doing. I’ve had enough time altering experiences to satisfy the both of us,” he chuckled humorlessly.

“Then why are you here?” he asked back, still skeptical.

“To get some answers.”

The two of them stared back at each other for a while, waiting for some type of sign to speak.

Finally, the prophesied Michael flicked his finger, forcing the other Michael to remain stiff as board, unable to move anything but his mouth.

“Very well. Ask away,” he responded afterwards.

He took a seat in one of his chairs, his eyes never leaving his exact replica before him. It’s not like it would have mattered either way, however. The standing Michael couldn’t have done anything even if he wanted to.

“You’re really so threatened by me that you feel the need to keep me stationary?” he asked his evil twin.

“Who better to know my weaknesses than myself?”

He interlocked his fingers together, quirking up his brow as a way to say “get on with the questions.”

Michael let out a sigh and tried to think of what to ask.

“What caused you to take this path, to follow the prophecy that you knew was wrong? And cut me any of the bullshit. We both know how well we like to hide the truth.”

The seated version of himself gave him a stern look, clearly taken aback by how forward he was.

“Hmm, I see you didn’t lose any of your daring behavior. Before I answer that however, I want you to answer something for me.” He adjusted himself in his seat, leaning back against his chair in a relaxed manner. “At what point did your timeline differ from this one? What changed?”

The other Michael wasn’t prepared to be the one answering the questions. Nonetheless, he knew it was only fair to provide some type information.

“Our lives were exactly the same up until 2015.”

Michael tensed up a bit in his seat.

“So then you know exactly all the shit we went through? The pain, the abandonment, the suffering?” his words became tainted with venom, a clear sign of hurt being revealed in his eyes.

Michael stared back at his pained self, knowing exactly what memories he was referring to.

“Of course I do. We felt like there was no one in this galaxy that cared.”

“Except for Father,” his twin spoke out. A quick glance to the ground was enough to show who he was referring to.

“He is no father to you or to me. He wanted to use us for his dirty work. Did it ever cross your mind that if we didn’t get the job done, he would just move on to the next person? He doesn’t give a fuck about us!”

This caused the other Michael to stand up from his chair, taking quick steps to face the frozen Michael.

“He was the only one that was there! He was the only one that gave us some sort of purpose!”

“What purpose is that?! To murder billions of people and destroy the world? What joy does that bring you?”

“The joy of knowing that I was finally doing something right!” he shouted loudly, suddenly not caring about how much his voice was echoing off the walls. “I finally did something that someone actually wanted me to do. For fuck’s sake, you know what I’m talking about!”

Michael remained quiet at this, hoping the fuming man before him would calm down slightly.

Eventually, he spoke up again, trying to remain steady in his voice.

“I know how all of that feels. But I come from a timeline where I chose a different family. I saved the world. I found genuine love, and I get the opportunity to do good every single day. This prophecy wasn’t our only option.”

The other Michael looking back at him let out a scoff, not fully accepting what was being said.

“Caring for those unloving humans isn’t good. Bringing them to their inevitable fates is what they deserved.”

“And what now? You succeeded in the Apocalypse! You killed almost everyone like you were supposed to! But what is there to do now? Did any of that cure the loneliness or the heartbreak you suffer from?”

This only angered Michael more, causing his powers to be unleashed without control. The room became chaos, papers and furniture slamming against all corners of the room.

“This is the life I deserve, Michael. You should just accept the fact that we don’t get a happy ending.”

“You and me both know that’s not true.”

“Really? I choose my own fate. What’s keeping me from killing you right now? Happiness is temporary, and I can make the choice to take it away from you in the blink of an eye. Tell me, what purpose do you have besides this one?”

The standing Michael could feel the recognizable sense of fear in his gut, but he pushed it down. He trusted that whatever happened, his family at home would remain safe.

“There is more to life than just doing what some 'being’ wants you to do. I can’t prevent you from killing me, but that won’t stop the others. There are versions of us even kinder than me and more destructive than you. There is a timeline where you kill me and one where you let me go. I don’t know which we’re in right now, and neither do you. And truthfully, there is a timeline where you fulfill everything Father wanted you to do, and one where you fail. There are going to be endless versions and alterations of us, and you will never be able to stop it.”

The evil Michael before him stood there with widened eyes, noticeable tears beginning to spill down his cheeks.

“Go,” he whispered.

With a raise of his hand, the once frozen Michael was set free to move again.

He clenched his hands a few times to regain some feeling in them, shifting his gaze back to his broken twin.

“Go!” he screamed out again, using his magic to shove the kind Michael to the ground.

With a final shared look, Michael pressed the button near his wrist, sending him back to his home.

He blinked a couple times, only to be met with the familiar walls he had grown to love.

Although he knew it was late, he couldn’t bring himself to leave the platform. He felt more secure just sitting there, evaluating everything that had just occurred.

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peonybane · 6 years ago

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Agape and Pragma: Chapter 8

Pairings: OT7 (BTS) x Reader

Word Count: 2.8 k

Genre: Hybrid AU, Fluff, Angst, Sci-Fi, Crack (?), Smut (eventually)

Chapter Specific Notes: Lots of angst, pining, suggestive material. Like. REALLY suggestive.

Terminology: A ‘queen’ is a female cat (didn’t know this and ended up researching this a few time to make sure). A ‘doe’ is a female rabbit. A ‘peahen’ is a female peafowl (peahen vs. peacock).

Summary: Your entire world had be torn asunder by just one lab test. Time heals all wounds, but does it really? What will it take to feel whole again?

Hybrid Types: Peacock Jin, Serval Yoongi, Golden Retriever Hoseok, Gray Wolf Namjoon, Scottish Fold House Cat Jimin, Great Dane Taehyung, and French Lop Eared Rabbit Jungkook

a/n: Thank you to my best friend and beta reader, @ropeseok for helping fix and refine this chapter. Things are really heating up! Please look forward to some, ahem, ‘fun’ time in Chapter 9!

<— Previous (Chapter 7)

As you made your way across the street, you heard your name being called by a familiar voice. Turning around, you spotted Jongin. He was dressed in a simple button up and comfortable, but nice, pants. You wore a sundress and a light sweater since cafes sometimes get cold. Seemed like both of you had the idea of casual, but not too casual for coffee. He joined you, his tail flicking happily and his ears at attention, their focus on you.

The smile on his face faltered as he got into arm’s reach. His nose crinkled as if he had smelled something unpleasant. You tilted your head. “Something wrong?”

“No. It’s nothing. Think I smell—“ He paused, reconsidering himself. “Actually, never mind. Probably nothing.”

He seemed to be hiding something, but you gambled not to push any further. “Anyways, let’s go inside.”

Nodding happily, you let him lead you into the cafe.

Once inside, you both made your way over to the line to order. Even in line, Jongin still wore that sour look on his face. “You sure everything is alright?”

His tail began flicking nervously and his ears swiveled about, giving away some sort of nerves. “Yeah, just… is that some new perfume? I think the smell is messing with my head. I can’t figure out why though.”

Your brow knit together. “No. It’s the same one I wore on the plane.”

Realization seemed to have dawned on him, his eyes growing large and just as he opened his mouth to reply, the cashier called for the next person in line. Once you both had ordered, Jongin insisted upon paying (“I’m a gentleman. Don’t hurt my pride like this.”) And you shyly let him, despite guilt gnawing away at you.

Waiting for your drinks, you exchanged more simple pleasantries, Jongin continued to act well, kinda squirrelly around you as he looked around the cafe, as if waiting for someone to jump out of the shadows to attack him. Once you both had your drinks, Jongin led you over to a table in the corner. Instead of sitting close you like you thought he would, he sat as far away from you as he politely could. You’d be lying if you said that it didn’t slightly hurt your feelings.

You slowly sipped on your drink as you thought about what to say next. It wasn’t nearly this… tense the last time you met him. In fact, the last time, it felt like you two were perfectly in sync, comfortable in each other’s presence. He called your name.

“Yes, Jongin?”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? There’s nothing to apologize for.”

“Yes. There is. I messed up. I should’ve noticed. I pressured you.”

Your voice rose an octave as he refused to meet your gaze. “No, you didn’t. I wanted to come here.”

“You’re too nice. But it’s almost cruel. Giving me some hope. Despite the fact that you’re already mated.”

“Mated?!”

Your voice was much louder than you had meant. But you couldn’t help it. That was last thing you had expected to come out of his mouth. A group of giggling teenage girls caught your attention and your face immediately flushed, knowing that they were giggling at your outburst. Jongin shot them a look and they immediately quieted down, whether it was out of intimidation or attraction (after all, that jawline could cut glass), you weren’t sure. Not that it mattered.

“Am I wrong? I didn’t smell it the last time we were together, but you’re covered in pheromones. It’s so strong…. I don’t know how I missed it the last time. It’s also so odd. It doesn’t smell like any one scent.”

You swallowed. “How… how many do you smell?”

He looked at you hurt. You didn’t deny his claims, you guessed he had secretly hoped you would. There was a venomous edge to his words. “What do you mean how many? I can’t really tell. But there’s at least a gross wet dog smell to you, a cat, some sort of rodent, and a bird.”

You did your best to remind yourself that he didn’t mean anything malicious by those words. After all, how was he to know just how deeply you felt for your roommates if you didn’t know either?

“Jo-Jongin? Can I ask you a question?”

He hesitated for a moment, his tail flicking, but hummed a confirmation as he nodded. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“What does it mean? For a Hybrid to be in love?”

He knit his brow together. “Depends, I guess. I mean, while we’re different from normal people, we’re not too different. But I guess our feelings are more… visceral. Primal. We do things without really realizing what we’re doing. Why?”

“My best friends think….” You hesitated in how you should answer. “They think, my roommates are… in love with me.”

Jongin stared you down with a hard look. “Do you love them?”

“Yes. They’re like family.”

“Don’t lie. Please.”

Sighing, you leaned back in your chair. “I don’t know. I think I do. But… how do you love seven people?”

Jongin was silent for a moment. “It’s not talked about a lot, but polyamory is a big part of the Hybrid culture, after all, very few of our species are monogamous. But it’s not something we necessarily talk about out in the open too much. Especially with normal people.”

“But you’re talking to me about it.”

“That’s because you’re apart of it, now.” He leaned towards you. “For Hybrids, attraction is like a positive feedback loop. If we like someone, no, love someone, we develop a specific pheromone just for that person. If that person loves us in return, they also emit a specific hormone, which, whether or not we’re conscious of it, will make our own hormones even stronger. It’s this endless cycle that feeds in on itself. The… scents,” he seemed to involuntarily wrinkled his nose at the word, “that I smell on you can’t be as potent as they are on you if you didn’t at least return some of their feelings.”

You swallowed. This was too much to stomach. As if sensing your nerves, Jongin sighed and said, “You love them. When you look at them, does your heart swell? Can you forgive them for everything, no matter how badly it may hurt you? Do you feel safe with them? When you’re touched, do you feel calm? Can you stand to be in complete silence around them and have no need to fill that silence? Do you want, any of them, to bend you over and just do what they want to you?”

At first, you couldn’t deny the sweet feelings he was describing to you. But your breath caught and something in your clenched at the mention of them doing with you what they will. Your throat went dry but there was no denying it, especially as the images of all seven of them doing something absolutely sinful to you flashed before your eyes.

Your voice trembled and was barely above a whisper. “…Yes.”

Jongin sighed, almost painfully as he let his head fall back. “Didn’t even have a chance, did I?”

Something tugged at your heartstrings. Guilt. “Yes, you did.”

He looked into your eyes, sadly. “No. You think that, now. But… you were always theirs. We may have worked out for a short while. But ultimately, you love them. And they love you.”

Hot tears that you couldn’t control started welling up in your eyes. Jongin smiled sadly and reached across the table, wiping at your tear with his thumb. “Don’t cry. It’s not worth it.”

“But I hurt you.”

“What’s there to be hurt about when it comes to mates? It’s not something that we can control. Sure, we can lie to ourselves that we can, but really, we can’t. I’ll just have to wait a little longer to find mine.”

He suddenly stood up, startling you. You followed his lead and stood up as well. Jongin gave you gentle, but sad smile before walking around the table to your side. You weren’t sure what was coming, but it certainly wasn’t the hug he gave you. Unsure of yourself, it took you a moment, but you eventually hugged him back.

Again, you found yourself tensing as he buried his face your neck, rubbing it against you. As he pulled away, he kissed your forehead and you looked at him with wide, almost fearful eyes. “What— What was that for?”

Jongin smirked, stuffing his one of his hands in his pocket and the other grabbed his coffee. “Just a little something to move things along. Maybe a little revenge. See ya around.”

You stood there gaping like a fish out of water as he gave you one last wave of goodbye before leaving the cafe.

^~^~^~^~^

“I’m home!”

The house was silent and you were reminded that your roommates were all out of the house, either at work (Jin was probably at the restaurant, Yoongi at his studio, Jungkook was probably with a client, and Namjoon was probably at the library) or out doing something else (You weren’t quite sure what Jimin, Taehyung, and Hoseok were up to, other than mentioning that they’d be out).

You sighed, dropping your bag off in it’s usual place. Since the guys were out, may you’d watch some of those horrible conspiracy theory tv shows and treat yourself to one of Yoongi’s top vintages or a carton of ice cream. You kicked off your shoes, leaving them at the door; you’d get them later. As you made your way to the kitchen, you draped your sweater over the back of one of the chairs in the dining area.

Entering the kitchen, you sighed heavily as you rubbed your neck. This whole ‘mates’ thing or whatever it was was really starting to take its toll on you. You opened the freezer. Now was the time to decide: vanilla or chocolate or mint ice cream for the conspiracy theory marathon. As you stared into the blinding light of the freezer, humming an unknown tune as you shook your bottom, making your decision, you didn’t notice the presence looming behind you.

Taking out your chosen flavor to defrost, you nearly drop the damn thing when you turned around, finding Jimin looming in the doorway, his tail flicking and face unreadable. You gasped, hand flying to your chest. “Dammit, Jimin! You scared the crap out of me.”

As you placed the carton of ice cream on the counter and closed the freezer, Jimin continued to stare at you, being strangely… quiet. Your brow knit together and for some reason… the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. “What— what’s wrong, Jimin?”

He remained silent. This silence sparked an unknown fury inside you. “Fine. If you’re not gonna talk then just go brood somewhere else, Batman.”

Just as you were about to push past him to go to your room to change, one moment you were marching towards the stairs, the next you found yourself pressed up against the wall, the impact slightly throwing the air out of you.

His face was pressed into your neck, he used his whole body to trap you against the wall. You brought your hands up to push him away, but he grabbed your wrists and slammed them against the wall. He was… bristling. Just like an actual cat as he growled. “Jimin! What the he— Ow!”

He bit you! Like actually bit you! It wasn’t hard enough to make you bleed, but dammit, it hurt!

Jimin growled against your neck, muttering something you couldn’t understand as you continued to struggle against him. He began licking the spot that he had bitten with his rough tongue, making you gasp… and a shiver run down your spine. “Why?”

Breathlessly you ask, “Why what?”

“Why are you covered in another damn cat’s scent? You reek of him!”

Jimin pulled away from your neck enough for you to see his eyes. They were constricted slightly in a diamond shape, something you didn’t know was possible for a Hybrid. This sparked a bit of fear in you. Why? Why was the animalistic side of him pushing against the thin veil of his humanity? You tried to respond, but all you could do was sputter. He grabbed you almost harshly, pulling you away from the wall and spinning you around, pinning you against the wall once again.

That was when you felt it. He was hard. Jimin groaned against your ear and something inside you, despite the slight fear that was quickly dissipating, clenched in need and desire. He leaned into your ear and whispered, "We were all set to stand by and watch you be happy with a normal person. But a Hybrid? If you wanted a Hybrid, any one of us was willing to step up."

You couldn’t help the needy whimper that left your lips as he ground himself against you. “J-Jongin… mmmm… is just a friend!”

Jimin let out a hiss and nipped at your neck, making you squeak. Your cheeks heated up. This shouldn’t have turned you on the way it was. “Don’t you dare say anyone else’s name. You’re mine! Jungkook’s! Hoseok’s! Yoongi’s! You’re all ours!”

Your pelvic floor clenched and the way Jimin stiffened behind you told you that he could smell just how turned on you are. “You want that? For us to make you ours? Mine and Yoongi’s queen? To be Jin’s peahen? Jungkook’s doe? A bitch in heat for the fucking canines?”

His words were making you light headed. It was so brusque. It was so dirty… and you liked it. It had been too long since anyone had spoken to you like this. And you didn’t want him to stop.

Reality came crashing down on you though at the sound of the door opening followed by Hoseok and Taehyung’s voices. You both froze for a moment until you realized that both of them were heading for the kitchen.

You panicked. Squeezing out from under Jimin, you ran. You ran past your dog Hybrid roommates as they called after you, but didn’t stop, even as you practically flew up the stairs.

Taehyung was hot on your heels as always, but you managed to get to your room and lock the door behind you before he could reach you. You heard him panting from the other side of the door. Another set of steps joined him. Hoseok called out your name. “Come on, let’s talk about it.”

“No, Hobi. I need to be alone. Not after what just happened. Not after what was said.”

Taehyung started to call your name, but you cut him short. “Please! Just… leave me alone. I can’t be around any of you. You mess with my head. And I don’t want to mess with yours.”

One of them let out the saddest whimper you had ever heard, but you ignored it, rushing to the bathroom attached to your room. You turned on the shower and stripped your clothes as quickly as you could. Once naked, you hopped into the still cold shower. Grabbing a sponge and your bottle of body wash, you prepared them as hot tears started finding their wait to your eyes.

You started scrubbing furiously at your body, wanting to get rid of the scents that were making them lose their sanity; even if you couldn’t smell them yourself. It wasn’t until your body was scrubbed almost raw and red did you stop.

Dropping the sponge, you sank against the wall of your shower until you were crouched in a fetal position. You bit the inside of your mouth to keep from crying out, lest one of your roommates forced their way in to rescue you.

Salty, hot tears ran down your face as you stared off into nothing, hoping that the water would wash away your confused feelings. But you could still feel him: the way Jimin’s body pressed up against yours, the way he growled, the way it all left you painfully aroused.

Even if you were just beginning to come to terms with your feelings for them, arousal was something else all together. And how could something so… dangerous turn you on like that? It felt… wrong. You had always been, well, vanilla in your sex life. But the implication of just being taken, of being tamed… that both aroused and terrified you. But you wanted it again. You wanted to be touched like that. You wanted to feel him against you again… you wanted them. All of them.

As always, reviews, comments, asks, and tags are always loved! ~Peony

Also, please note that I do NOT do tagging lists. Please see my FAQ for why.

Next (Chapter 9) —>

Agape and Pragma Masterlist

Masterlist

In the meantime, please check out my first smut, Frisky.

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things-with-teeth · 6 years ago

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“And Hope That I Don’t Crash You”: The Web, The Archivist, and Control

In her statement to Jon, Annabelle Cane states, “I have always believed that the key to manipulating people is to ensure that they always under- or overestimate you. Never reveal your true abilities or plans” (MAG 147). In a lot of ways, the narrative supports reading this as an admonishment against doing the later. In MAG 149, Melanie shoots down the idea that the Web has some strategy beyond “to paralyze [Jon] with indecision, sitting here terrified that everything [he does] is somehow part of its grand plan;” Jon doesn’t necessarily concede to this point, but he does admit it’s a possibility. Every time we’ve met another avatar of one of the Entities or an organization that worships them, it’s turned out that they’re not all they were cracked up to be when they first appeared on the scene: Peter can’t protect the Archives as he told Martin he would, Elias isn’t as all-knowing as he would lead others to believe, the Cult of the Lightless Flame and the People's Church of the Divine Host are both 95% petty in-fighting and about 5% knowing what the heck they’re doing. (Simon “in it for the lulz” Fairchild is sort of a breath of fresh air; he also doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he doesn’t pretend otherwise.) So maybe the Web is the same; even Annabelle suggests it, telling Jon that it’s entirely possible the Mother of Puppets is “simply sitting and reveling in the inevitable cascade of paranoia as those who hold her in special terror cocoon themselves in red string and theory” (147).

On that note, please allow me to cocoon myself in red sting and theory: I think Annabelle has basically been engineering events since season one, and here’s why.

I want to be clear from the start: I think Annabelle is being completely above board when she tells Jon that she hasn’t influenced his decision to take statements and feed the Eye. It’s clear from the moment that he proposes the possibility that this is a bit of a reach, a desperate last-ditch attempt to convince both himself and the others that he hasn’t been acting with any kind of autonomy while doing something he knows will hurt people. He is. He does. Jon Sims is becoming a monster, and that wouldn’t be nearly as horrifying or as sad if there wasn’t some element of choice to it (and some element of inevitability to that choice, as with a lot of great tragedies, but the kind of inevitability that’s as much personally driven as externally motivated). In no way am I writing this in an attempt to say “the spiders made him do it, he had no choice.” That being said, Annabelle herself makes an argument for choice being dictated by circumstance, and I’m going to argue that Annabelle herself has dictated a great deal of the circumstance from the very beginning.

Some of this is very well-supported by the things that we already know for a fact; Annabelle, herself, admits to Jon that she’s been “been nudging something here and there to keep [Jon] safe, to keep everything on track” (ibid). I don’t think there’s much room to argue that Annabelle wasn’t the one who prevented Jane Prentiss’ plan to destroy the Archives from coming to fruition. As of MAG 123, we know that Annabelle was responsible for what happened to Carlos Vittery way back in MAG 16, the very same case that Martin is investigating when he discovers Jane in the basement of Carlos’ apartment leading up to MAG 22, and from MAG 16 we know that Jane’s presence there predates that of the spiders – Carlos says his building has an “infestation of some sort of insect [he] didn’t recognize – small, silvery worms [...] they provided a good meal for the eight-legged little monsters.” As a result, the Archives are aware that Jane is a present and immediate danger. In MAG 38, the infestation of worms in the tunnels and Jane’s attack on the archives is revealed when Jon damages the false wall while attempting to commit arachnicide, and she’s forced to attack early. This is almost definitely why she fails; Tim states that “[being inside the Magus Institute] made them weaker, and they’ve been down there for months, breeding, building up their numbers until there were enough to properly bury us. Except you found that hidden passage, and they had to act” (MAG 40). I think it’s also possible – although this is more conjecture at this point – that Annabelle was the one who sent the note that incited Jared Hopworth to attack the archives between seasons three and four, although that’s mostly because I’m not sure there’s a better candidate; Peter potentially has motive, but that kind of manipulation reads more as the Web than the Lonely. “I’m starting to think the letters were a trap,” says Jared (MAG 131), and I would argue that it was a trap, not for Jared but for Martin, meant to nudge him into looking outside the Institute for protection. It’s more-or-less explicitly stated that Annabelle sent Oliver Banks to coax Jon out of his coma: “I'm still not exactly sure why I'm here. But you know better than anyone how the spiders can get into your head. Easier to just do what she asks” (MAG 121). Annabelle has nudged, here and there, and she has kept Jon safe, and she has kept everything on track.

I think Annabelle has been influencing events in more subtle ways, too, however. Very early in the series, Jon receives a delivery which includes “an old Zippo” with a “spider web design on the front” (MAG 36). He’s suggests that Tim have the others take a look at it, but that’s quickly lost in the realization that the other item delivered is the web table, which Jon recognizes from its description. As far as I can recall, we don’t hear another mention of the lighter until MAG 111, when Gerard asks Jon if he’s “a spider freak” after Jon offers him a cigarette and, presumably, a light. This means that, three seasons later, Jon is still carrying the lighter. A lighter with a spider web pattern on it, delivered by Breekon and Hope, who may belong to the Stranger but who are certainly willing to deliver parcels for other powers (the yellow stole Father Burroughs receives in MAG 20, for instance). Jon has been carrying around an artifact of the Web for the better part of the series, and I don’t think it’s impossible that it’s been influencing him, or that Annabelle’s been using it to influence him, in ways that are much less obvious than those I’ve listed above. Mostly I don’t want to speculate as to how it’s influenced him – I straight up do not know, and like I said, my intention is not to absolve Jon of all agency in his own actions for the last hundred plus episodes – with one exception. There’s one other time that Jon’s smoking habit has heavily impacted the plot: when he steps out to have a cigarette in MAG 80, leaving the way clear for Elias to brutally pipe murder Jurgen Lietner and keep Jon “on track” in his development as the Archivist.

This is speculation, but I think it’s speculation supported by past events within the podcast, most specifically those surrounding Gertrude and Agnes.

Annabelle wasn’t an avatar of the Web back then, of course, but I still think that there’s a lot to be learned when it comes to how the Web and/or its representatives influence the course of events nominally controlled by and benefitting other Entities. In MAG 139, Eugene Vanderstock says:

The compromise we came to was Hill Top Road. We knew it was a stronghold of the Web, full of other children Agnes’ age. We would supervise from a distance but were confident she would be in no danger. The Mother of Puppets has always suffered at our hand – all the manipulation and subtle venom in the world means nothing against a pure and unrestrained force of destruction and ruin.

And that’s—that’s weird, isn’t it? We know that the Cult is at least somewhat protective of Agnes; it’s how Diego convinces Arthur Nolan and the others not only to refrain from acting against Gertrude but to protect her for so many years after she binds Agnes to her, because it might be “catastrophic for Agnes” if Gertrude were to die “a violent death” (MAG 145). In spite of that, here they are, sending their baby chosen one into the lair of an enemy power so that she can get some normal socialization and learn not to bite (or burn) the other kids. As a result, Agnes ends up tied to Hill Top Road and Raymond Fielding, even after Fielding is dead, perhaps because of an early attempt at the same kind of binding that Gertrude eventually succeeds at creating. I don’t think it’s outside of the realm of possibility that the chain of events leading up to the Cult making this disastrous decision were not entirely without influence from the Web.

Then there’s Jack Barnabas. I’m ridiculously charmed by Jack’s whole mindset of “this girl is so goddamn weird and I’m really ridiculously into it,” and I’m not going to suggest that what he felt for Agnes wasn’t real; even Jon is “ninety percent” sure that Gertrude “didn’t pay poor Jack Barnabas to fall in love with Agnes” (MAG 139), and I’m about equally certain that the Web didn’t compel poor Jack Barnabas into being head over heels for her, either. That said, I think it’s clear that the Web did have some involvement. When preparing for his first date with Agnes, Jack smells burning and notices that “within the corner of the room, where there had been a spider's web this morning, there was just a faint wisp of smoke” (MAG 67). The language in his statement, years later, is filled with confusion about his own motives and hints of compulsion: “I was drawn to her in a way I can't even explain,” “I don't know how it happened, it [asking Agnes for a date] just tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop it,” “drowning in emotions that I still can't explain,” and “looking back, I'm still not sure what I would have done differently [...] I don't know if I would have had it in me to resist. I just couldn't avoid being drawn in” (ibid). Jack’s feelings for Agnes may not have been entirely manufactured, but they did receive a nudge, and the result was doubt and eventual death for the avatar and a necessary component in the ritual of one of the Web’s opposing powers.

Finally, there’s Gertrude. When speaking of the path that led her to the ritual which eventually bound her to Agnes, she describes it thus:

It was the Web. I didn’t know it at the time, of course, and I would call it an accident, but it never is, with them. It’s only after the fact that you can see all the subtle manipulations [...] I began researching what I thought was a counter-ritual of sorts. Like I said, I was young, naive. I somehow found just the right books, made just the right connections, and even got what I thought was a piece of blind good luck when I found a tin box in the ashes of Hill Top Road, containing some perfectly preserved cuttings of her hair. Of course, what I thought was a banishment ritual turned out not to be. The circle I constructed was more of a—an invitation. It let the Mother of Puppets bind me to Agnes, interweave our existences at some metaphysical level, as it had with Fielding and the house. (MAG 145)

Somehow she found the right books. Blind good luck that led her to Agnes’ hair at Hill Top Road. I would call it an accident. It’s only after the fact that you can see all the subtle manipulations – and this is Gertrude, who isn’t infallible, but who Arthur Nolan pinpoints as being “too practical” (ibid) to buy into the mystique of the Entities or to ascribe to them some greater motive, which would seem to belie the possibility that she’s falling prey to (as Annabelle suggests in MAG 147, as Melanie suggests in MAG 149) the tendency to succumb to paranoia while crediting the Mother of Puppets with some grand act of manipulation that the Web isn’t actually responsible for. I would argue that Jon has most likely been experiencing the same kind of quote-unquote happenstance that Gertrude once did, the same kind of subtle manipulation cloaked in coincidence, for the entirety of the series, all of it leading him toward whatever end Annabelle finds most desirable.

Some final notes that I couldn’t really incorporate elsewhere: I really, very much hope that Melanie’s therapy sessions really are just her getting good professional help for everything the Archives and the Entities have thrown at her, but I’m less and less certain that’s the case. Annabelle’s inception, her origin story, takes place in a psychology department. When doing follow-up in MAG 69, the archival staff find that all of the post-grads involved in the experiment have disappeared; in addition, Elizabeth “Liz” Bates, the advisor on the project, refuses to give a follow-up statement. The Web is about control and manipulation; it’s entirely possible that Annabelle has a large pool of qualified candidates to draw on when it comes to providing Melanie with a counselor who doesn’t have “cobwebs down her face” (MAG 149). I also keep getting stuck on the fact that very soon after Melanie asks Daisy not to call her “Mel” in MAG 147 because her therapist has advised her to be more open about these things, Annabelle opens her statement with “Free will is a funny old thing, isn’t it Jon? Can I call you Jon? I’m going to call you Jon.” Sure, it’s coincidence – but Gertrude was convinced, at first, that what she was dealing with was coincidence, too.

As for why Annabelle is doing this, I don’t know. Maybe the Lonely is as much in opposition to the Web as the Desolation is – after all, it’s difficult to manipulate someone in isolation – and she’s trying to impede Peter, not from stopping the Extinction but from benefiting from it, as Simon Fairchild says he will, thereby eliminating an enemy just as the Web did with Agnes and the Desolation. Maybe she’s trying to beat him to the same goal, establishing some level of control over someone beholden to the Ceaseless Watcher just as Peter is trying to gain control of Martin; Jon’s first experience with the supernatural involved the Web, and then there’s that Zippo. Maybe she has some goal all her own, some third option not yet even hinted at. Or maybe, like Jon, she’s acting on instinct, unable to do anything but “dance the steps [she is] assigned” (ibid), manipulating and spinning out her web because she’s incapable of doing anything else.

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So I accidentally wrote 2.5k of wild conjecture about creepy spider people because I got stuck on the idea that there was a connection between the Zippo and Lietner’s death, that was fun. Shout out to @wildehacked for letting me yell about this and additional shout out to anyone involved in the wiki or the transcripts because oh goooooood would this have been more difficult to compile without being able to utilize those resources to check citations and grab most of the quotes.

Quick edit to add a link to @caught-in-the-infinite‘s excellent alternative explanation for why Annabelle might have wanted Jared Hopworth to attack the Archives, which I think makes a lot more good sense than mine while also having even more ominous implications.

#the magnus archives #annabelle cane #jon sims #the web #tma spoilers #meta #gertrude robinson #agnes montague #tma

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