#Like hes some teen raised on violence and fighting and aggression | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gatitties · 9 months

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HEY! I really hope your requests for TokREv are open because I had an idea plagued in my mind since this morning!! It defiantly changes canon, takes places after Kisaki gets kicked out of Toman! What is reader is his older sisters (19-20) and she finds out about what he did and she's pissed! Like she has ties with yakuza so she is able to get info on where mikey and his friends are hanging out and she shows up, dragging hanma and Kisaki by their hair/ears and she looks really scary before she just forces the two on their knees infront of the Toman captains and forces the two to apologize before she herself apologies for her brothers behavior and she's really sincere about it and promises Mikey that they'll never here from Kisaki Tetta or Hanma again, bows then just leaves, still dragging the two trouble makers behind her. This can be crack or fluff or serious. Headcanon, fic, scenario. Its really up to you, I just want to see this idea play out please.

─Tokyo revengers x kisaki!reader

─Summary: You discover something you don't like about your little brother and decide he needs to apologize

─Warnings: none

Oh this was fun to write, a interesting idea!!

"Don't fuck with me…"

You massaged your temples after one of your friends had told you some information about small teenage gangs, having friends from the yakuza gave you the privilege of finding out about all the acts of vandalism that were about to happen or had happened, you always met with them to spill the tea on gang gossip.

And while you found some of the stories about teens fighting each other entertaining, you didn't fully support that behavior. Finding out that your little brother was involved in a group like that didn't please you very much. Even though you weren't the best sister in the world, you had to draw a line in his behavior for planning to destroy a group of friends. You didn't mind that he got into fights because you knew that he wasn't the typical one to throw punches, you knew that Hanma, his friend, would do it for him, but they would learn the lesson that violence wouldn't lead to anything good on their own.

But it was something different when you saw all the ins and outs that went into his main task, you weren't going through that, he wasn't going to go through that, trying to destroy people just out of contempt or trying to impress someone, in no way had you been taught those ethical values at home, your parents would be disappointed if they found out, you did him the favor of keeping that information to yourself, however, his actions were a hard blow to your morale.

Your friends talked to you a lot about fights, but also about respect, just like how they raised you, and a mistake comes hand in hand with an apology, whether it was sincere or not, depended on your brother, although it would be on your part.

That same day you entered the house, hearing the voices of both teenagers, a grimace on your face, still somewhat grumpy at their behavior, you didn't even knock on the door to ask if you could come in, you walked in with long strides, looking at the duo with a frown as Tetta looked back at you.

"What's up with knock the door and respect privacy?"

"What about having a minimum of values and not manipulating people?"

He looked away clicking his tongue, Hanma just smiled slyly, he even seemed amused by the situation because he couldn't give more than a damn about that whole Toman betrayal thing.

"You shouldn't care what I do or don't do with my life decisions, get out of my room."

You let out a sigh of surprise at the aggressiveness in his words, looking stunned as he even approached you to push you out of his room, a bad decision, when his hand touched your shoulder to push you, you put him in a headlock, holding his head.

"What the hell!? Hey, let me go!"

"I'll let you go when you apologize to that gang! What you have done is disrespectful and a stain on your morals."

He squirmed in your grip but you stopped him from letting go, although a laugh made him escape from your deadly hold, you turned your head slowly to see Hanma laughing heartily at your struggle, your eyes turned into burning flames, you used your dominant leg to kick the door shut while cracking the bones in your knuckles, they had pissed you now.

"Shit, did you have to laugh at a time like this? She's going to kill us."

Younger Kisaki muttered to his friend, his face paling at the sight of your completely serious expression, though Hanma didn't seem to take it seriously until he spent at least half an hour locked in the room with you. A few knocks on the door made you step back, you adjusted your clothes and hairstyle, smiling when you saw your mother open the door.

"Have I heard screams? everything is alright?"

"Perfectly, mom, we were just playing Uno, and you already know how wild the game is."

"Oh yeah, you two hate losing at Uno, anyway, don't you want something to snack on?"

You looked back, Tetta tried to say yes to get rid of you, knowing that your mother would kick you out of his room if he complained asking for privacy for himself, but you cut him off with just a look.

"Don't worry, I haven't spent time with my dear brother in a long time, I'll take him for ice cream!"

"Oh how nice, bonding time, then I'll leave you, be careful and have fun!"

When your mother left you looked back at the duo, they gulped at the sight of your mischievous smile. One of your friends had told you that just today Toman was having a meeting, so it was the perfect time to apologize, you dragged them both by the earlobe, letting their complaints be music to your ears.

Everyone tensed when they saw that both former members appeared, interrupting Mikey, who narrowed his eyes as he watched you drag them towards the first step of the stairs where he used to give his speeches, everyone remained silent, watching your next move.

"In the name of…" you pulled them down, making them kneel, you doing it with more grace and softness, still looking directly at Mikey " this two idiots, I apologize for all the problems caused, with all my heart, I promise that they will not bother you again, if so, I will take care of punishing them again."

You lowered your head, hearing a snort from your brother, you hit the back of their necks, hearing some murmurs that sounded like apologies on their part, although perhaps only Mikey and Draken could hear it since they were the closest. The two leaders of Toman looked at each other perplexed by the scene, they shared a smile, Mikey nodded towards you, ending the meeting.

"Thank you, I'll keep that in mind."

You nodded in the same way as farewell, still dragging your brother and his friend by the ears, once out of sight of all those teenagers ─who were surely laughing at the strange situation─ you let them go, your face softened slightly and you let out a breath you had been holding.

"I hope you two have learned your lesson… now, let's go get some ice cream."

"Ice cream won't solve the pain in my ear."

"No, but maybe you want me to keep stretching your ear until you can get a damn dilation."

You said under your breath, noticing how Hanma stood next to you, obediently, not knowing if it was because he didn't want to know anything more about your punishments or because of the ice cream, Tetta gave up easily, crossing his arms and mumbling here and there, but accepted the ice cream, after everything he had endured today, a refreshing snack wouldn't hurt, he needed to cool his mind to recalculate his plans and make sure you never found out again about the things he was planning.

#tokyo revengers #tr #tokyo revengers scenarios #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x fem reader #kisaki reader #fem reader #kisaki x platonic reader #platonic reader #hanma #hanma x reader #request #reader instert #x reader #sfw #toman #toman x reader #scenarios

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lover-of-skellies · 10 months

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Underfell sans? probably would be low maybe, but I'm curious.

Shockingly enough, his rating is actually an 8. He’s a safer option, but not by much due to his temper and how accustomed he is to reacting to anything unexpected with violence and aggression. But alas, such is the way of the Underfell monsters, I suppose

1) How dangerous is his mouth? Much like his brother, his teeth are sharp. The exact sharpness is up for debate, since I think think there’s anything from his creator regarding that, but for now, they appear sharp enough to be dangerous. So sadly, I have to give him a 0. His mouth is dangerous, and you better hope you don’t surprise him or piss him off

2) Would he bite, and his he aggressive? I don’t see him biting on purpose, but if he was startled, that’s a different story. His aggression though is undeniable. His entire personality at this point is him being an edgy tsundere with anger management issues. He has no qualms against fighting and throwing hands with others, or threatening them in one way or another, and due to being from Underfell, being that way just seems to be standard procedure for the monsters there. He loses a potential point for being so aggressive, but I can give him 1 point for not being a purposeful biter. Accidents happen, yeah, but he may or may not have more smooching experience than his brother, which could possibly make up for that.

3) Are there any health hazards for the smoocher? Unfortunately, yes there are. His sharp teeth are a bit of a potential hazard on their own, but then pair that with his temper/attitude and his magical abilities. If he somehow thought you were about to attack him instead of smooching, you’re going to get very hurt, very fast. Since he’s the type to act now and think later, he wouldn’t have anything against defending himself from whatever threat is there in front of him, even if the perceived threat is just that: perceived. Assuming you asked nicely beforehand or made it clear what you wanted to do, then he might be ok with it. He’d think you were being a weirdo and he’d probably act like it never happened out of embarrassment, but I’ll give him 1 point since there’s a chance that he might be safe enough to try smooching, if you went about doing it correctly

4) Does Red have a sympathetic backstory? When you consider the underground that he had to raise Edge in, the constant threat of being ganged up on and hurt for literally any reason under the sun, and the stress of having to support himself and his brother, yeah, I’d say he deserves a little sympathy. That’s not even counting the kind of treatment that he has to endure from Edge and everyone else that’s in his AU. He likely has a lot of depression and anxiety due to his treatment, living conditions, and the knowledge of the resets, he very likely has lots of trust issues and problems forming attachments because of the environment itself, and his self esteem is probably nonexistent. He needs therapy and some genuine friends more than anything else, and he needs to be somewhere that’s not as harsh and abrasive. The mental and emotional issues don’t excuse his poor attitude itself, but it at least gives somewhat of an explanation for it, and yeah, I’d say his backstory is pretty sympathetic. He gets 2 points for his sad backstory

5) Does he deserve a smooch? He’s rude beyond belief and he’s very rough around the edges, but considering everything he’s gone through and had to deal with his entire life, yes, I’d say smooches are deserved. 2 points for this area

6) Is he cute or cool? His design itself is really cool to me, since I think it’s simple but very effective in helping him stand out from other Sanses, and he’s got this very lone wolf, angsty teen sort of energy about him. When done correctly that could give him cool points, as long as he’s not turned into the butt end of a joke anywhere along the line. He’s been portrayed in such a way that while cute moments are extremely rare, I actually have seen them happen once or twice. Taking that into consideration, I’d say he gets another 2 points here

In total, Red’s smooch-ability rating is 8, surprisingly enough. He has quite the temper and is prone to violence just like his brother, but from what we know, he does use at least a decent amount of self control to kinda balance it out a little. Kissing him is something that could be done, but you’d have to know him really well and communicate what you wanted beforehand, or else it’s just not happening. If you’re a total stranger trying to smooch him, then you can bet your ass you’d get pretty beat up and injured in some way by him. All in all, in depends on familiarity and circumstances, but an 8 seems pretty fair to me

#anon #asks #fell sans #red sans #smoochability rating

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tvdramas · 4 months

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✽ — [ he/him, trans man, 32 ] — this season on barbosa rules, the crew will be following [ castle veteran ], the wonderful [ keiji furukawa ] ! they are working as a [ bartender at nymphas club ] this summer, and have travelled all the way from [ osaka, japan ] to do so! rumor has it, they [ participate in a not-so-legal fighting ring ] . silvia barbosa knows them to be [ impatient & disorganized ] , but they make up for it by being [ confident & loyal ] .

001. STATISTICS …

GENERAL DETAILS.

FULL NAME: keiji furukawa. NICKNAME(S): kei. AGE: thirty2. DATE OF BIRTH: october 21st, 1991. PLACE OF BIRTH: osaka, japan. CURRENT LOCATION: persephonē fortress. GENDER: trans man. PRONOUNS: he/him. ORIENTATION: bisexual. OCCUPATION: bartender @ nymphas club.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE, ETC.

HEIGHT: 5'8. TATTOOS: wouldn't you like to know? PIERCINGS: none. CLOTHING STYLE: good question! whatever is clean at the moment.

HEALTH.

ALLERGIES: none. SLEEPING HABITS: terrible. non-existent sleep schedule. SOCIABILITY: 8/10. extroverted. DRINKING / SMOKING / DRUGS: socially / yes / socially. MISC: hard of hearing and does not use hearing instruments. uses sign language when possible and reads lips.

PERSONALITY.

TRAITS: aggressive, nosy, ruthless, unorganized, confident, abrasive, hard mouthed, impatient, insincere, loyal. LIKES: fights, making fun lil drinks, classic literature. DISLIKES: being told what to do, thinking of home, losing. FEARS: none that he (i) can think of. HABITS: smoking, lying. HOBBIES: video games.

FAMILY, RELATIONSHIPS, ETC.

BIOLOGICAL PARENTS: dead. ADOPTIVE PARENTS: estranged. SIGNIFICANT OTHER: none. BEST FRIEND: tba. EXES: tba. SIBLING(S): yuji & renji, estranged. CHILDREN: none. PET(S): a goldfish named hammerhead.

002. BIOGRAPHY / HEADCANONS (very quick and very messy)…

[ trigger warnings: parental death, violence. ]

middle child... parents died when he was 7 in a disastrous house fire. older brother yuji got him and their younger brother, renji, out before it was impossible to go back in and get their parents.

they were sent to live with their maternal grandparents who outright didn't like their daughter's choices (ie... marrying the man that she did) so they were a little wary of taking in her children. in the end, they decided they were only capable of properly raising yuji since he was the oldest and could take care of himself to some degree. in frustration, the night that decision was made, yuji and keiji got into a physical fight.

after some time in temporary homes, renji was adopted by a foreign family and moved out of the country with them, while kei was taken in by a rich family in the pharmaceutical business

his adoptive parents wanted him to follow strictly in their footsteps, but kei was never one who really enjoyed doing so. he always acted out to the point that his parents gave up on him and had him sent to various boarding schools.

etc etc etc at some point in his teen years he became close with someone who taught him how to fight properly, and he really, truly enjoyed getting into fights. why? idk don't look too deep into it he's sooo normal.

blah blah blah . he ends up travelling with some (much richer) friends as a new adult. does not go to college because fuck that noise... ends up settling in greece and hopping between bartending stints for a while

very much enjoys his lil job here. it's fun! he meets new people all the time and gets to fool around with people and make his silly lil drinks and if he clocks in with a black eye or fresh stitches, please mind your business. he does not participate in a fight club what gave you that idea. leave him alone.

003. CONNECTION GUIDE …

PLATONIC unfortunately for everyone else, keiji is a very all or nothing type of person. it's either he likes you enough to get into bed with you or he hates you (likes you?) enough to punch your lights out. very few people fall into this middle category, but rest assured that he will literally kill for you if needed. fiercely protective over the few friends he does have. attack dog vibes you know? ROMANTIC keiji will sleep with people and pretend like he doesn't know them the next day. bad news: if you show keiji one ounce of affection even if it is a normal interaction misinterpreted as such, he will be at your door every day like a lost dog. if you somehow manage to figure him out, anyone that he sees as a threat against you (physically, metaphorically, whatever) … they're so done... he's got that attachment + abandonment issues combo, do with that what you will. ANTAGONISTIC he's will seek out 'enemies' if only for attention and to instigate a fight (physical, verbal, whatever...). will punch first! but mostly he wants to goad others into hitting him so he can hit back. if you are his friend, your enemies are now his enemies.

#mhq * intro

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dimensionhoppinghybrids · 11 months

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It had been several days since Dave had his changes.

It had been a bit of a tense period, due to how the power he had changed a lot of things.

His magic was stronger, he was stronger then ever. It was, in a word. Overwhelming. He had even tried simple TK and the pen he was trying to raise up had shot through the roof of his study.

Dave had to learn a lot again, and that didn't help things.

Measuring strength he had managed to get without crushing something, but magic was out for a while, and even flying, which he could do even bipedal was out due to how unfamiliar it was. It was easy to start but hard to properly stop. He had no proper reference for things like slow, fast, turn, etc. It was hard for now, but he would work through it.

The worst was the aggression.

Not to his family, but that eagerness to fight, dominate, and be on top.

There had been three incidents with nobles just saying the wrong thing enough to be considered a challenge, and getting their face planted into the ground like some sort of comical pokemon shaped plant. They were alive, but the sheer violence made the more snootier nobles back off.

Then a bit later, he found out he could go on all fours and wall climb like a lizard.

That description was more apt since, well. Through a tome he had been given for safe keeping, abd he was researching, he got forcefully transformed into a gigantic Eastern dragon.

Longer and thicker then Reyquaza when going full dragon, he had been by reports, rather massive.

He had been spotted from a distance, and the humans had thankfully thought him to be a new variant of a Pokemon that was wondering about. The arguments on the new, and the few pictures taken showed only so much from.a distance, as he had circled a mountain, then perched there, then disappeared. No one knew after that what happened, but the consensus was that the new "variant," had moved on after resting and stopping for a bit.

And now after some help from friends, he had decided to stay as he was. As a dragon. The tome itself had some, heavy cons to it.

Dave had essentially become a teen again, of a sort. The tome with the curse essentially had a goal. To spread more dragons to the world, and with that task, came the hormones to help solve the issue, one way or another it seemed.

But that also came with the impulsive decisions, abd short fuse of both a dragon and youth.

Suffice to say, Dave was all in all having a hard time of things.

So he sat in a training ground. Heavy weights strewn about like toys that had been picked up and discarded, Dave sitting there, shirtless and looking disgruntled.

Gone was the fur, and replaced with scales of the deepest sapphire, and a milky cream underbelly, rippling with new, dense muscles. He had the purple hair color, but in a mane that now ran down his back, just below his shoulders, with two horns behind his ears, looking a bit like antlers, but radiating magic, along with his long mane. Even his scales radiated with magic.

His eyes, before a calm ocean blue, had gone into shades of lighter and darker hues, with narrow cat like skits gazing from his eyes, and a long moustache and bristles on his draconian muzzle, a trait of his Eastern heritage.

Even his long tail, which lay coiled around him, had a poof of fur. The long abd powerful tail tapping the ground with annoyance.

There was also another thing. Dave had gone from 6'3. To an 8 foot 5. He was taller, stronger, much stronger in both magic and might, and with the worst combo of all.

He wanted to fight. So, much.

But he was unable too, because there weren't any foes really he could go against.

And to the lizard part of his brain, that was like a constant itch that was hard to scratch. He even in some ways, wanted to get properly violent.

The best description that his kids could give? It was like a newly evolved Charizard itching fir a fight and getting the line up of chumps.

No satisfaction or relief for a good fight.

And Dave was banned from going out without escort so he wouldn't almost destroy a city. Again.

He hated this.

So, so badly.

End of part 1?

#the morningstar (dave)#drabble

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sabineelectricheart · 8 months

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Pranks and Horror Movies

Summary: Chad, who is definitively not scared of ghosts, watches a horror movie with his girlfriend. She has a wicked idea.

Rating: T - Suitable for teens, 13 years and older, with some violence, minor coarse language, and minor suggestive adult themes.

Words: 3200

Notes: I’m not a big, strong guy. I’m afraid of ghosts.

Blood, guts, and gore were things that Chad was used to. Hell, he even liked them, he thrived on violence and aggressivity, having plenty of space to exercise it out in the pitch.

In regards to his cinematographic inclinations, the sight of blood and death made his heart thump in satisfaction. He loved seeing people go down as either heroes or villains, with everything out in the open, measured through a simple and direct fight scene. It never got to him, he never suffered loss or outrage, he merely celebrates the experience.

Spooky movies, on the other hand, got him very badly. Ghosts, gremlins, poltergeists, witches... Anything like that scared the shit out of him. He detested the fact that there is something that he could not touch, a battle he is only able to win through wit and arcane rituals.

However, Chad is also a proud man. He did not want to be a coward and admit his fears, so he agreed when his girlfriend asked to put a spooky movie on.

Barbara had an agenda, of course. She had a bit of an inkling that he was not as fearless as he made himself believe when it came to the outwardly, thanks to his overreaction when she was watching Supernatural at his TV. He had just got back from a class to find her catching up with a completely benign episode and immediately told her to turn the channel.

"What's wrong?" She asked innocently. "Don't tell me you're afraid of ghosts."

"I'm not afraid of fucking ghosts!" He exclaimed.

Barbara snorted and shook her head. He was totally afraid of fucking ghosts, but she decided to take pity on him. She changed the channel and let it go that day.

For that day, of course. There were lots of ways to weaponize that information, and Halloween seemed like the perfect opportunity.

So, she proposed they watch a horror movie, to celebrate the creepy holiday in style. For some weird reason, he agreed, after just a reasonable amount of resistance, which was curious. It could have been an attempt to show that he was a big, strong boy who was brave enough to fight ghosts, but maybe, just maybe, it had more to do with the fact that he wanted to get over his little phobia.

Oh, well, the college student decided to remain positive. Perhaps something good would come out of it. Life is strange and unpredictable, and he should be prepared to deal with situations in other manners than with his fists, his money and his privilege.

And, well, it is fun to see him squirm a little. It is not as if the movie is going to hurt him.

So, Chad was nervous. A little bit. However, he was trying to keep a collected and casual demeanour, there is no reason to shame himself any further. He was sitting on the sofa, his arm draped across his girlfriend’s shoulders while she laid her head on his chest and played with the ends of his shirt, helping him to calm down.

They were barely ten minutes into Paranormal Activity and the tension was killing him. Not just within the movie creepy climate, but also the slight pain in his shoulder, locked in a defensive position, while he waits for the scares and tries and prepare for them before they even happened.

He was already regretting agreeing to watch this shit.

"You alright?" The young woman murmured quietly against his collarbone, her warm breath tickling the hairs on his chest.

"Yes." He confirmed. His voice came out much quieter than intended.

Barbara lifted her face up slightly and raised an eyebrow. He swallowed thickly and looked away to avoid meeting her gaze. He knew how vulnerable he sounded, and he hated himself for that.

"I'm, uh, I'm fine." He stutters.

It was hard to lie to her. She had that piercing cold gaze that could easily coerce grown men into revealing their secrets, but thankfully she knows when to press and when to let go, and so she did. Let him marinate in his frightened state for a little longer, perhaps then the macho attitude can be peeled off.

In the spooky silence, he felt his phone vibrating and almost jumped out of his skin. She giggled at him, clearly amused by his overreaction.

Chad glared at his girlfriend as if daring her to laugh anymore and took his phone out of his pocket. A few years shaved off of his life and all he has to show for it is a message from his mom asking if he could make it for lunch tomorrow, to which he replied with a very short, "Sorry, no" and placed the device on the coffee table.

With an awkward cough, he settled back in and tried to pretend he did not just almost shit himself. She smiled at him, obviously not fooled at all, but decided not to say anything else once again and focused on the screen again.

Chad sighed in relief and relaxed against the cushions.

As they watched, her hand found its way under his shirt and traced little circles on his skin, as she usually did when he needed comforting and, as always, would refuse to say anything on the matter. Slowly, he felt himself grow even calmer and more at ease.

Things proceeded fairly well, until it got to the bit when the Ouija board's planchette moves seemingly by itself.

Oh, fuck no. He bit his lip, tensed up once again and squeezed her hand tightly, to the point it hurt. She hummed in response and turned around to look at him.

"Scared?" She asked, playing it cool.

The football player opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but closing it again after realising that nothing was coming out.

He gave her a fake smile and continued to hold her hand. "Pfft, no. No. No way. I'm enjoying it so much."

He was still shaking inside, but he refused to show her. If he was being honest with himself, he was not having fun. Not at all. He could feel Barbara studying him, probably figuring out if he was lying or telling the truth.

He kept his eyes on the TV and hoped that she would not ask why he would suddenly gone all pale and nervous.

Typically, a traditional scary movie date night has the guy being all macho and unbothered and the girl being all wimpy and stuff like that, which was not happening with them. It was a role reversal of sorts. Being scared instead of her was fine, or so his Inner Barbara, the nagging voice inside his head, insisted with him.

Alas, Chad insisted. Throughout the whole movie, he claimed to be fine. He pretended that he was perfectly okay with all the creepy things that happened, that he was not really freaked out, and that he was actually having a wonderful time. He is not going to give her the satisfaction of seeing him flinch every few seconds. He knows he does not have anything to prove, but he still feels awkward in just letting it go.

Around three-quarters into the movie, she got up to get a drink and left him all by himself, leaving him to stare blankly at the screen as all the demonic shenanigans happened, with the only sounds in the room consisting of his breathing and the sound of the TV.

When Barbara returned, she placed her drink on the coffee table and tried to sit back on the couch, yet she found herself being pulled onto his lap and pressed against his body. She stared at him in surprise as his hands found their way around her waist, his thumbs tracing her hips.

"The end of a movie tends to be the scariest, y’know?" He explained, trying his hardest to come off nonchalant. "Just wanted to make sure you don't get scared or anything."

This time it is so obvious that she did not believe his reasoning at all that even he noticed the way her eyebrows were drawn together and her eyes narrowed suspiciously. He cursed himself internally for being stupid enough to think that she would buy it.

Of course, she had not bought it at all. She grabbed his chin gently, tilting his head up, forcing him to meet her gaze. There was a mischievous glint in her eyes, and he knew that it meant trouble. He groaned inwardly but remained quiet as she leaned forward and kissed him.

"Thank you, babe. That's very sweet of you." She cooed and patted him on his cheek softly, before turning and leaning back against him so she could continue watching.

Using their new position to his advantage, Chad could use her midsection to hide behind. He would pretend he was really interested in kissing her shoulder or the curve of her neck and would tilt his head downwards, giving him enough time to casually take his eyes off the screen. Also, he could use her aromatic hair to obscure his vision and she could not see how his face changed into a grimace of fear.

It was perfect.

What was even better was that the movie was nearly over anyway. The credits rolled, and she heard the TV click off immediately.

Yeah, that was fucking done. No more. Absolutely no more.

"Well, I guess we should call it a night." The woman said, yawning exaggeratedly and stretching her arms above her head.

Chad nodded silently and wrapped his arms tighter around her. As he pulled her close, he rested his head on top of hers, feeling her soft hair brush against his cheek.

There was no way he was sleeping in a bed tonight, so he let all his weight dip to the left and flopped them both down so they were lying against the couch cushions. It was a tight fit, but it was how both of them liked it. He shifted slightly, so that he was on his side with his arm draped over her waist as they spooned.

"Goodnight, Barbs." He mumbled as he closed his eyes.

"Night, baby." She whispered softly, bringing his hand up to her lips to kiss his knuckles and then returning it to its previous position.

It seemed to Chad as if Barbara had immediately fallen asleep as soon as she closed her eyes. Himself, on the other hand, did not have the same luxury of sleepiness as her, so he stayed awake long into the night staring at the ceiling, coming and going with creepy thoughts in his head. What if the ghost demon thing jumped out of the TV and started shit? What could he do about it? Shoot it? Stab it? Scream at it?

With that in his mind, he took one deep breath, then another, and then another, until his eyes started feeling heavy. He blinked, and his thoughts became muddled, until he finally falls down asleep.

Suddenly, his eyes open again quickly. He does not know for how long he has been asleep, but his girlfriend was not there anymore, and he had a quilt thrown over him. She must have gone to bed, he concludes.

There was a noise coming from the windows and the front door that woke him up from his restless sleep. Deep in thought, he just assumed he was imagining the light scraping sound that came from behind him. When he turned towards the source, however, nothing appeared. He blinked a couple of times and looked around, but everything was still as silent as it had been a minute ago.

It must have been just his imagination. Right?

So, he just lays there thinking and hoping his nervousness would pass eventually and he could go to the bedroom and join Barbara under the soft covers. Maybe he would finally be able to sleep well if he stopped freaking out, but that does not seem that is happening any time soon.

The scratching noise began again, this time closer to where he was lying than before. He sat up slowly and scanned the room with wide eyes, but nothing was there. Panic rose up in his throat and his breathing quickened.

Then the door handle rattled. Chad gulped audibly and looked towards the door with trepidation. The scratching sounds were getting louder and louder until they stopped abruptly as the door slid open slowly.

A flash of white illuminated the darkness of the room as the light turned on briefly as the door slammed shut. He froze in place. Everything seemed stuck in place around him, except for his racing heartbeat.

Chad looked back at the dark hallway leading to their bedroom and neither saw or heard anything, pointing to the assumption that Barbara was still resting peacefully. How in the hell was she sleeping at a time like this? What kind of person sleeps through this kind of nightmare scenario?

He does not want to run over there, wake her up and risk sounding like a fucking pussy. It might still be nothing, and even if there is something, what a short, thin girl like her can even do?

All of a sudden, the TV lit up again, shedding a long shadow behind the couch, and he could hear the familiar sound of static. His chest constricted as the screen flickered to life. His eyes widened, but he still remained absolutely still.

This is not real. He was clearly dreaming. Duh, that is why Barbara is not reacting.

"Oh, you're not dreaming yet, boy." A voice resounded through the room.

Okay, so now the ghost is speaking to him. Awesome.

It was a familiar voice, breathy and throaty, one that he heard sometimes on the shell of his ears. Barbara spoke to him like that sometimes, when he looked lost socially or before a big speech at the Investments Club, when he needed a little help or a confidence boost, she was there to give him some pointers. Or if she wanted to distract him during debriefs by saying something extremely dirty without the others knowing to make him blush.

However, this voice did not sound like hers, but rather what he would imagine her mother would speak like, if she had smoked for many years. It was slower. more threatening, more comically evil and witchy, but somehow familiar.

Chad tried to recall when and where he had heard this voice before, but all that came out of his mouth was an unintelligible croak.

"You really are quite cute, aren't you? I like that. Very adorable."

Suddenly, the lights went completely dark and the man screamed as loud as he possibly could. It was high-pitched and sounded ridiculous, but he did it anyway.

Unable to keep her facade up anymore, Barbara finally let out her giggle. It had been so difficult to keep it inside as she messed with him.

She gingerly put her head through the front door to watch him squeal like a little girl, as her boyfriend covered his face and realised it was her the entire time.

"You're such an asshole." Chad whined and squeezed her tightly, making her squirm a bit as he buried his head in her neck.

"An asshole? Me?" The voice, which he now recognized came from his Bluetooth speakers on the kitchen counter, asks petulantly.

Well, shit. It was her horrible impression of Bette Middler in Hocus Pocus, that is where he recognised it from. She had connected her phone with the speakers and the TV, left for the front yard and woke him up by tapping on the window.

"Sorry, baby. I know it was mean, but your scream was hilarious." The woman said between laughs, coming through the door.

Chad sighed. "I hate you."

She giggled once more, laying back in the couch and turning to rest on her back, tugging him on top of her so she could envelop him entirely in her arms. One hand went to his hair to hold the back of his head while the other moved under his shirt to trace shapes against his lower back.

"Love you too, big guy." She purred into his ear, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple and grinning wickedly when his expression softened ever so slightly.

Her smile grew wider when she felt him relax against her and wrap his own arms around her, pulling her closer to him.

Barbara continued stroking his hair in silence for a while before breaking it and whispering, "Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, whatever." He replied quietly, his nose touching the skin of her collarbone.

He was so close that she could feel his breath fanning against her neck, causing goosebumps to rise on her skin.

"Do you want to pick the movie next time?" She asked, her tone playful and innocent.

The football player hummed and nodded slowly against her skin. "More than anything."

He then plants a few kisses along her collar bone, earning an amused laugh from her. He lifted his head to look up at her, and her eyes met his for a brief moment before fluttering closed as he gave her a sleepy smooch on the lips.

Her fingers tangled themselves in his hair as she tilted her head to deepen the kiss, and suddenly Chad had forgotten all about her prank. He forgot that he was supposed to be mad at her. He forgot everything as he kissed her.

"I love you." He breathed after pulling away slightly, glaring at her playfully. "And you're not going to scare me like that again, got it?"

Despite how funny she found it, Barbara smiled and nodded before leaning in for another kiss, only for him to stop her halfway. She blinked a few times and then frowned a bit.

She laughs. "Yeah, I promise. I’ll only use my genius for good from now on."

That clearly was the answer he wanted as he closed the gap between them once again. Over time, the kiss became slower and lazier, each movement more languid than the last. She ran her hands through his hair absentmindedly, her nails lightly scratching his scalp. They would have to stop at some point.

When they did, it was just a matter of time before he would inevitably fall back asleep. Right now, however, he is not willing to let go of this moment, to let go of the warmth of her body pressed against his as she curled around him protectively.

Her name slipped from his mouth in barely a whisper, and she shushed him gently, placing a kiss on his forehead.

"Sleep." She cooed lovingly.

His eyes slowly closed and his body relaxed. His arms and legs went limp, and his breathing evened out.

Barbara kept her eyes closed as she held onto him, listening to the calming beat of his heart mixed with the steady rise and fall of his chest. The sound of his scream replayed over and over in her head as she chuckled to herself.

Yeah, Chad was a big, strong guy and totally not a weird, skittish nerd. Totally.

*_*_*_*_*

College Craze Masterlist

#college craze #Chad Vanderheim

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shoutingaboutnothing · 1 year

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STATS • CONNECTIONS • PINTEREST

full name: Jett ‘JJ’ Jackson gender & pronouns: Cis Man / He/him age & date of birth: 33, March 31st, 1990 where do they live: shabby single family home, lower income area likes: beer, country music and classic rock, his truck, hunting, fishing, hiking, surfing, his family, pretty women, annoying his siblings, fighting, winning boxing matches, riding horses and motorcycles dislikes: being told no, screwing up, anyone who hurts his family, stuck-up people, most vegetables, seriousness, lame parties, jealous boyfriends

-diving deeper

TW: parental death, violence

Born and raised in Olympus, he’s the oldest of four. He is very protective of his family and has always been close to all of them. His family owned a farm just outside of town that primarily raised cattle.

His mother passed away when he was twelve years old. This was particularly hard on him because he’d always been a mama’s boy. He tried to help his dad out with his younger siblings but has never been the pillar of responsibility so it was more doing what his dad asked then stepping up on his own or being consistent.

Definitely was a troublemaker which only got worse during his teen years. Often got in trouble for partying, doing stupid stuff around town, and getting into fights. Destructive tendencies - throwing things, punching walls, etc., definitely fell asleep in the back of his truck to ‘sleep it off’ outside a party/bar or on the side of a less traveled road, almost got kicked off the football team but they let some things slide because he was such a good player.

Probably would have gone pro or at least went on to play college ball if he really wanted it but he was a hard sell due to his record and he wasn’t willing to put the work in to prove otherwise.

He always got along with the bikers in town and looked up to some of them, so the minute he was out of high school he became a prospect and as a member he tries to be involved with as much as he can because he enjoys being an outlaw

Has an explosive temper and always has, this led him to many of the fights growing up and that he tends to get into still. Though he found a calling in boxing which helps get some of that aggression out and cut down on some of his fighting outside the ring.

When he’s not training or doing something for the club, he’s partying either at the bar, clubhouse, or somewhere in town. Often hosts after parties at his place. He’s a very heavy drinker and definitely does drugs. Stays away from ones that will show up in his system three days before a fight so he doesn’t get disqualified. Says it’s only a problem if you call it one.

He’s had an on and off thing going with the same girl since high school. His involvement with the MC, reckless behavior, and his tendency to have a wandering eye/sleep around always causing problems between them whether they’re in a relationship or not. Jett sleeps around, a lot and sometimes doesn’t remember who he brought home until the next morning or the names of the girls he’d taken home in the past.

Loves all things outdoors - hunting, fishings, hiking, surfing, etc. will often be found doing a lot of these in his free time. Also still goes to help with the family farm when his dad calls him.

Plenty of room for connections from people he’s slept with, exes, high school friends/enemies, fellow members, rivals in boxing or life, he’s probably slept with someone’s sister or girlfriend, people he’s fought with, thick as thieves with, etc.

#intro.#pinned.#headcanons.

0 notes

randomshyperson · 3 years

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The Scarlet Witch Prophecy - Chapter 20 - Agatha's Memories (Part Two)

My official gif maker @abimess, thank you.

Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies.

Series Masterlist || Read on AO3 || All Works Masterlist

Chapter 20 - Part XX - Agatha's Memories (Part Two)

You don’t sleep for long, there is a sound of something breaking that makes you blink confusedly as you move on your bed.

Then you realize that it is the wood up your head that is moving, along with a red magic that you know very well.

You look forward, only to find Wanda with an impassive look on her face as she merges the bed into one.

“I’m sleeping with you from now on.” She says simply as she finishes, and you lay back on the mattress, not sure of what to say about that.

You hold your breath as you hear her taking off her shoes, changing to her pajamas next, staring on the roof of the tent as she does it.

She pulls the blanket to lie down, and then is mimicking your position.

"Would...would it be okay if I hugged you?" she asks after a moment, and you feel your heart race.

"I'd like that." You mumble clumsily, turning to the opposite side.

And it takes half a second for Wanda to wrap her arms around your waist, burying her face in your shoulders, inhaling your perfume and making you blush heavily.

Your legs entwine from underneath the comforter, and you feel more secure than you ever have before.

"I'm sorry." She murmurs against your skin. You think she is talking about what happened with the horcrux, and you just nod softly, but she repeats the apology against your ear, intertwining her hands in front of your belly, and you realize she is talking about everything.

"I love you." She confesses next, and you feel your eyes fill with tears.

The hug gets tighter, and you sink your face into the pillow, allowing yourself to cry.

And Wanda doesn't let go, even when you sob, and it takes a while, but you finally fall asleep. And when you do, she stays.

//-//-//-//

You woke up first. And you don’t wanna get up. Not when you have Wanda wrapped around you like this, your face buried her neck, as you both turned around during the night, and now your legs are completely entwined, and you are practically lying on top of her.

And all you do is sink even deeper against her body, sighing against her skin. She smells so good.

"-morning." She whispers hoarsely, still with her eyes closed, her hands around your body moving slowly against your back down and up, and you just murmur into her skin wishing you could stay in that moment forever.

"We should get up." Wanda says after a moment in silence, not seeming to really wish to do so.

"No, thank you." You retort and your voice comes out muffled against her neck, the vibration making her laugh.

"We need to darling, I think we have some lessons. "She says and you mumble softly, the curiosity to pursue the story Agatha was telling is enough to make you pull away.

But when you are about to let go of Wanda, she pulls on your forearm, and you look at her with confusion, but she moves forward and kisses you firmly.

It's slow, and soft. It makes you sigh, so you kiss her back, sinking right back onto the bed as her hands wrap around your hair to deepen the kiss.

When her tongue asks for passage, you see stars, melting under her touch. Wanda smiles against your lips, pulling you by the shoulders to lie on top of her.

But before you can do so, the sound of footsteps catches your attention, along with a soft hiss, and you grumble before pulling away.

Throwing your face back into the pillow, you try to calm your breathing and rapid heartbeat as Agatha strolls through the tent, until she comes to your room.

"Are the sleeping beauties going to get up, or should I bring coffee in bed?" She teases with her arms crossed as Wanda hides her smile as she notices your state. "You two know this isn't a honeymoon trip, right?"

"Stop being so bitter, Agatha." Wanda complains as she sits up. "We'll be right there."

"And a good day to us, ladies." The older witch retorts before leaving.

Wanda laughs softly, turning her attention back to you as you scramble up on the bed to sit down as well.

"How are you?" she asks, intertwining your hands on top of the mattress, and you let your gaze roam over her face, biting your lips against the urge to kiss her again.

"Fine." You murmur half hoarsely, from sleep or lust, Wanda will never know. "And you?"

"Better." She says with a nod, and you feel your heart race. Better with you here.

Wanda squeezes your hand before letting go, and she stands up, looking at you one last time before walking off toward the bathroom.

You sigh as you throw yourself back against the mattress, trying to push away the feeling of her tongue against yours and focus on the fact that you were even closer to completing your mission with one less horcrux to destroy.

//-//-//-//

“Where are we now?” You asked as you observed the surroundings. It’s the entrance of an old garage, in the corner of a city. But the real Agatha ignores your question as she guides you two inside, further into the memory.

Your dad, just a teen boy, maybe eighteen, is inside, working on a large machine, it seems that he was really a muggle mechanic, since there were cars all around, dismantled or not.

"Stark." It is Agatha from the memories who says, and startles your father slightly, who almost drops the screwdriver. But when he looks up, he smiles.

"Professor Harkness!" He says getting up, and wiping the grease on his apron quickly before greeting her. "You really did it!"

"I told you I would come." She says, and you are surprised at the affectionate way she looks at your father, "Look at you, Howard, you're so grown up."

Your father laughs, bowing his head softly. "Thank you, professor."

"I only say that because I've known you since you were a child." She humorously clarifies. "And now you are even growing a mustache. Tell me, do muggle girls like that sort of thing?"

Your father laughs with flushed cheeks, and Agatha follows him. Before they can say anything, there are voices and the sound of footsteps approaching, and soon, two people enter.

Wanda chokes softly next to you. "Mama."

You also recognized Magda, because you have seen pictures before. She had the same appearance as in the photos, and you were saddened by this, because she must have died not so long after this memory.

Erik stood beside her, wearing muggles like the woman next to him.

"Professor Harkness, you made it!" He greets politely, hurrying to shake the witch's hand as she smiles. "It's so good to see you again! This is Magda, my wife."

"It's a pleasure, dear."

The memory speeds up, you want to fight Agatha for cutting off Wanda's moment of seeing her mother properly, but the way Wanda strokes her thumb against your hand makes you give up saying anything.

The scene settles down in what you think is the apartment at the top of the garage where they were, all around a table, drinking beers.

"You guys know why I came all this way, don't you?" Agatha says, and seems to have just had a short pause in the conversation, as if everyone had been laughing before and suddenly got quiet. And the tension only increases with her comment.

Her father sighs, nodding. "There is no daily prophet here, but I have met some travelers. They are talking about a war, Agatha." He says worriedly. "But I want to hear it from you. Do you really think that could happen?"

Agatha gives a humorless laugh. "It's already happening." She says, placing her beer on the table, and straightening her posture. "The minister of magic waited too long. And now, this group, these so-called death walkers, or whatever ridiculous name they are thinking of trying, are everywhere. In the ministry, in the diagonal alley, in the Order."

Your father looks really upset, but you notice how uncomfortable Erik looks.

"And do you really think that's what they're after, Agatha?" He asks. "War. Do you think that's what the walkers are after?"

The teacher raises her eyebrow slightly. "What else could it be, besides chaos and complete destruction of our society, Erik?"

His former teacher is unaffected by the snickering, he just gives a half-hearted laugh. " Well, freedom of course." He says, clearing his throat softly. "See, that time we've been here. New York is fascinating. Things are bad for muggles it's true, but for the rest of us, damn. The wizards are doing just fine. They have so much magic here, so much freedom to study what they want. The ministry encourages the discovery of new areas, gives financial support to researchers!"

Agatha crosses her legs, listening to Erik's speech carefully.

When he realizes that he may be defending Mephisto's group too much, he pauses, straightening up. "I'm just trying to say that maybe a change in the British government is exactly what our society needs to evolve, Agatha."

"You know, when Fury told me he wanted to recruit you boys to the order, I told him that children don't fight wars." She declares and you see the boys widen their eyes. "You two know that Katherine is dead, right? That Nick took over leadership of the order in his mother's place, and the first names he wanted were yours."

Your father nods, as does Erik.

"Well, I didn't agree." She says. "I said I knew other wizards, more experienced, more trustworthy. Wizards who didn't flee their homeland to live the American dream."

"That's not-" Your father begins but the look in Agatha's eyes makes him shut up.

"Nick insisted that I come here." She continues. "He said that you have kept in touch by correspondence, and that you continue to have the same, what was the word, moral inclination. But now I wonder if he was really right about that."

"I didn't mean to say that the walkers are right!" Erik exclaims defensively, looking embarrassed, but Agatha just smiles.

"Don't worry, honey." She says as she leans in. "I think that kind of moral difference is exactly what makes this whole conflict interesting."

"That's sadistic of you, Agatha." Howard comments seriously. "We're talking about a war."

"Don't be hypocritical now, Howey." She retorts with a wicked smile. "You think I don't know who the travelers you've been talking to are? Say, the magical trafficking laws are simpler in America, aren't they?"

Your father locks his jaw, but keeps his face up.

"I did what I needed to do to survive here." He says simply, and Agatha laughs.

"Of course you did." She says. "So did we all. And now we have a potential battle ahead of us, something that could change the course of wizarding life for future generations. Tell me, do you intend to stand here fixing machines and pretending that your friends are not dying for your freedom? And I thought you were tired of this kind of attitude, golden boy."

Your father stands up, enraged. But he says nothing, and swallows his pride. He gives Erik one last look before leaving the room.

Agatha sighs softly, turning her attention back to Erik, who has his fists clenched in his lap.

"You know very well that the situation is not so simple." He says and Agatha smiles.

"And you know it's him don't you?" She retorts and Erik clenches his jaw.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I think you know very well, Erik." Agatha insists. "When I fired him, he didn't stay in England. He came to America with his favorite student."

"Keep your voice down." Erik quickly retorts, looking back a moment before leaning forward. "It's not what you think."

"But I don't think anything." She says. "I'm exactly giving you the chance to explain yourself, before I draw my own conclusions."

Erik takes a deep breath, and turns to Magda, squeezing her hands.

"Honey, can you give us a minute?" He asks, and Wanda's mother looks like she's going to say no, before nodding.

She walks off in the same direction as her father, and then Erik and Agatha are alone.

"Professor Faustus has asked me for support, Agatha." He says. "He was out of a job, and with his name tainted with rumors that no one has proven. And he never treated us badly, so I helped him."

"You kept this from Howard? I thought you were best friends." Agatha teases but Erik laughs humorlessly.

"Of course not." He says. "Who do you think paid for the tickets?"

"Interesting." She says. "Why tickets?"

"Because he was being investigated for the dark magic rumors." Erik says. "The ministry put a blocker on him. Any magic he tried to do would go straight to the minister's notes. And well, he needed Howey's help to remove the device from behind his neck."

"While he was hiding, I imagine he told you about his wonderful ideas."

"No, Agatha." He says. "Faustus just looked tired. And he felt betrayed, mostly by you. But in general, he complained, and studied. Howey and I would work all day, and he would stay in his room, among the magic books, unable to conjure anything, not even a light spell. I've never seen him so frustrated."

"I'd feel sorry for him, if that wasn't his fault." Agatha murmurs and Erik sighs in agreement.

"A few months after we arrived, Howey got it." Erik recounts. "Tivan gave him the materials he needed, and he freed Faustus from the blocking device in his skin. He thanked us, said he'd write, and then disappeared. We never heard from him again, but the letters from Fury started coming in the next months."

"Did Howard suspect?"

"No." Erik says squirming uncomfortably in his chair. "Howard trusted him, mostly because of the way he stood up for him in school. About supporting him to study mechanics, even if no one else would. But I knew I had to be smart after what happened with Raven."

"He tried to recruit you?"

Erik sighs. "No, Agatha. But he will."

"I know." She says. "That's why I came."

" I should have guessed that you don't make friendly visits, even to your best students."

Agatha laughs softly, leaning her arm on the carpet. "You think just because you can conjure a patronus you're my best student, Erik? I helped establish the order of merlin. You are not even remotely the most talented wizard I have taught."

"You are hurting my feelings." The man jokes, making the other woman smile.

"How will this work then, Erik?" She asks. "Are you going to accept Fury's offer? Or will you follow your heart?"

The man smiles, standing up. "That just concerns me, and my wife, don't you think?"

"Actually, no." Agatha retorts without sounding angry as Erik moves to collect the beer bottles and put them in the trash. "In fact, I think you even need to leave her."

Erik laughs in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"A muggle, Erik." She says as if it's obvious. "You're going to drag her into a war? That's cruel."

"Magda is stronger than you imagine."

"I'm sure she is." The witch says getting up as well. "But that is until she is hit by the first spell."

“Agatha, please.”

“Muggles can't handle magic like we can, Erik." She insists seriously. "You know that. A simple stupefy could kill her."

"I love her." He says turning away. "And I'm not going to England without her. If she decides to stay, then I will too."

"That's disappointing." Agatha comments, but Erik doesn't flinch, crossing his arms. The witch sighs. "Then do me a favor. Howard, at least he, needs to go. We can't afford to lose allies."

"I'll talk to him." Erik assures. "But you know that with all that his father has done, he doesn't want to go back to London anytime soon."

"This is so much bigger than a family feud." Agatha retorts. "Tell him that, and he'll feel guilty enough to accept it."

"Your mind games are wicked, professor." Erik says before nodding in agreement, leaving.

Agatha sighs, getting pensive.

Just then Magda walks back into the room.

"Miss Harkness?"

"Hello, dear."

"I just came to ask if you're going already? Erik looked upset, but I can walk you to the door. It's good manners."

The memory shakes until they are outside, and Magda leads her to the same place she should have appeared before.

"Please, before you go, may I ask you something?"

"Of course, sweetie."

Magda hesitates, but takes a deep breath and says. "If Erik stays, what are the chances of this war reaching us?"

Agatha looks at the woman for a moment. "I don't think there is a way to escape what is happening in England, Magda. And if we lose, it's not just the witches who will suffer the consequences."

Magda nods in understanding, then steps forward. "Tell me how I can help you."

"He wouldn't approve, but I can't watch everything fall apart around us. Tell me how I can help."

Agatha smiles, touching Magda's shoulder. You hold your breath, as does Wanda, who also notices the magic in the witch's fingertips, and the purple color in her eyes.

"Leave him, dear." She says. "But it needs to be natural, okay? As best as I can, he must not suspect it was my idea. Erik would never put you in danger, but he wouldn't leave you alone either. So you need to end it all."

Magda has tears in her eyes, but she just nods mechanically. And the memory becomes blurred.

Wanda is tense beside her, and you are silent.

"That doesn't make sense." You mutter. "Carol told me that Magda was in Sokovia, and that-"

"She's not my mother, is she?" Wanda cuts you off, looking at the floor. The real Agatha sighs, as you look at the two in confusion.

"How could you tell?" She asks.

"I don't have her eyes."

It was a funny detail about the few pictures of Magda that Erik had in the Maximoff house. All the pictures were old, because they were from muggles. And they were never sharp enough in detail, just good enough for you to be able to recognize the woman in the recollection.

Agatha laughs softly. "Is that all Erik told you about your mother? That you had her eyes?"

Wanda squeezes your hand, and with the other she wipes her cheek.

"Just show me the truth at once, Agatha."

"As you wish."

//-//-//

You stumble gently as you get used to the dirt floor that has stabilized at your feet.

"Are you okay?" You whisper to Wanda, but she just nods, smiling weakly before looking back at the memory forming in your eyes.

You were startled by the bright lights in the sky, recognizing them immediately as wandering spells.

Someone just fought here, and it was no small fight.

"Agatha!" Erik shouted, approaching quickly, coming from the corner as if he had been hiding until now, and the teacher had emerged.

Wanda also held her breath as she noticed the large cut on his forehead, the blood dripping down his face.

"T-They've surrounded us..." He says breathlessly, his wand in fists as he stumbles to get closer. "We narrowly won and-"

"Calm down boy." Agatha says as she holds his shoulders, working quickly to heal his wounds. "Where are the others?"

"Further away." Erik replied visuvelmettely exhausted. You could tell he was a little older than the last memory, but he was still young. "Back to the mansion.

"Good, they' ll be safe there." She says as she helps Erik stand properly. "Where's Natalya?"

And Erik chokes, sobbing. You frown in confusion, and Agatha makes a pitying face.

"Oh, Erik."

He cried, shrugging. "She was.... She tried to gain ground. She hit four of them at once. But... But she-"

And he sobbed, and Agatha didn't insist, hugging him.

"I'm sorry, Erik." She whispered.

And the memory trembled until they were back on the mansion's dirt path, almost at the iron driveway, the man visibly calmer, though quite shaken.

"Erik, what about the children?" Agatha asks as she stops walking in front at the gate.

The man looks on the verge of tears again, but only sighs.

"I have no idea, Agatha." He says. "No place is safe in the UK anymore. I can't leave the order to look after them, I don't know what to do."

And Agatha looks at him a moment, before nodding. "I will help you."

You see many flashbacks of memories, Agatha greeting injured order members, then going back to write letters, and checking the news. You think you see flashes of fights too, big duels, before everything stabilizes again.

It's Magda in front of you, and she looks more mature too.

"Years ago, you asked me how I could help you." Agatha spoke behind you, and you startled yourself by jumping to the side, and watching intently as the witch touched Magda's hands. "You saved yourself by leaving him. But you will save his life and the rest of the wizarding world if you accept what I am about to ask of you."

Magda's eyes widened, but she nodded after a moment. Agatha waved her hands, and a cart approached you.

"Run away, Magda." She says. "Their mother had a house, enchanted to protect from invaders on a hill in a small country in Europe." Agatha explains as Magda lets out a surprised exclamation at the babies in the stroller.

"They... are beautiful." She whispers excitedly, touching the children with her fingers, who fall asleep innocently. "What happened, Agatha? Where is Erik?"

"The fight just got bigger, hon." She explains. "Much bigger than we ever expected. Your people are suffering too, but they're saying it's natural disasters."

Magda is shocked, but she speaks again. "Agatha, I am not a witch. I can't protect them."

"That's exactly why you can." Agatha retorts, taking the other woman's hands again. "Go to Sokovia. There are no witch communities there. Hide yourself, hide them. You have no idea how important it is to keep them safe."

"Tell me, then."

Agatha swallows dryly, and looks away from the babies. "It's only a legend, but it could change the fate of this war. The girl, Magda, is a powerful witch. A special kind, like her mother was."

"My god, she's just a child, Agatha."

"That's exactly why she needs to be protected." The witch retorts. " She' s fragile, like a crystal to be stolen. She must not be found, promise me you will protect her."

"I promise." She says nodding, but Agatha sighs, and her eyes turn purple, her grip increases.

"No matter what happens, Magda." She says. "You will protect them, do you understand?"

"Yes."

The memory shakes again, and this time, your father is in front of you, and you hold your breath, shocked to see him so close so suddenly.

“You’re a snake!” He accused angrly, but without any movement, his eyes were serious with his arms crossed.

You turn to realize he was talking to Agatha, in a room that had no windows.

“I was keeping them safe, Howard.” The woman said. “I don’t expect you to understand the feeling of desperation, because you have an armored mansion at your will.”

“You used Erik’s grief to manipulate him into believing in you!” He shouted. “I’m not asking you again, where are his children?”

Agatha laughs softly, looking at your father indignantly.

"Are you listening to yourself, Howey?" she teases. "Erik switched sides, accept that."

"Nat died on our side." He retorts. "She was my friend, my ally. And she trusted us to protect the twins, you had no right to hide them!"

"They are safe!" Agatha retorts, and looks at the man with a warning expression. "And I suggest you stop making such a scandal about it, Howard! You don't want Mephisto to find out about the girl's true nature. We're close enough to defeat already."

"This isn't about that stupid legend-"

"Isn't it?" Agatha interrupts with irony. "Then why only now? It's been weeks since I took them. I know exactly what you want with the twins, Howard. You want to see if it's true, if they really can change the war." She says approaching. "I will clear that up for you then, since you clearly have no knowledge at all on the subject. A scarlet witch is worthless until she reaches maturity. If you try to take the magic from the baby, you'll just get a victim. And I won't allow that to happen."

"I wasn't going to steal the child's magic, Agatha. Who do you think I am?"

"I don't give a damn who you say you are now, Stark." She retorts."Not to you, nor to Erik, who can't make up his mind whose side he's on."

Agatha moves to leave, clearly ending the conversation. But before she leaves, your father calls out to her.

"Why are you so committed to protecting them, Agatha?" He asks.

"Natalya was my family before she was an Auror, Howard."

As Agatha leaves, the memory fades, but you and Wanda are wide-eyed, confused by the latest revision.

And the ground is shaking at your feet, and you are being pulled back into consciousness.

//-/-//-//-//

You awaken last, stretching confusedly away from the tree you had leaned against as you sat on the ground to begin viewing the memories watched with the other women.

Wanda is already getting up, to find Agatha standing peacefully looking at the mountainous landscape ahead.

"So, what are you?" she asks the older witch.

Agatha sighs softly, without looking at Wanda.

"Natalya Maximoff was born in Romania, during the witch revolution in the country." She begins nostalgically, a short smile at the corner of her lips. "I found her shaking like a leaf, less than twelve weeks old inside a box of potatoes."

You are shocked, as is Wanda, but you just listen.

"I think her mother tried to hide her. But she got caught in the middle of it. Romania was in chaos at the time, it was a real bloodbath. "She says. "I was there to fight. The English ministry provided special witches to take on a wizard, known as Kang the Conqueror."

Agatha gives a humorless laugh, sounding upset.

"If you think Faustus is bad, it's because you've never met him." She counters. "He was a master nocramanter. He created an army of the living dead, the inferi. It was the worst fight I've ever been in. But we won, and he was killed. For real this time."

Agatha looked away from the landscape to look at Wanda.

"I bonded with the child, Miss Maximoff." She says. "I could have left her in that box, and gone on my way. But I took her in my arms, and only let her go when she was mature enough for that."

"And then?" Wanda asked with emotion in her voice, looking at Agatha with tears in her eyes.

"I found out that she was a scarlet sorceress, but unlike you, she never completed her forging." The witch says sadly. "She died at the age of 20, a year before she was going to do the spell."

Wanda looks down at her feet, crossing her arms as she absorbs the whole story. Agatha thinks this is a good opportunity to keep talking.

"The war was already over when I found Natalya." She says. "The village where I believe she was born had been destroyed in a shambles. And they put her in the box, while the British aurors were doing the stakeouts. I took her with me, I didn't tell anyone." She recounts. "When she turned eleven, I found out what she was. I taught her everything I could, but I didn't let her go to Hogwarts. I kept her at home, where she wouldn't put the students or herself in danger."

You bite the inside of your cheek, surprised that Agatha was able to hide a daughter. But honestly, it wasn't that shocking.

"When she turned 16, she started rebelling, you know how teenagers are." She says. "She left because she didn't agree with the way I saw the world. And I said I would be waiting for her to come back when she realized that only I could help her."

"But she didn't come back." Wanda completed and Agatha sighed, nodding.

"No, of course not," she says. "She moved to a muggle province, and built a house. And ran away from her fate until her power got too overwhelming."

"Did you look for her?" You ask, and Agatha nods in agreement, turning her gaze to the landscape.

"With the war, I wanted allies." She says. "And I really thought I could get to the house of the daughter I hadn't spoken to in years to ask her to fight for me."

"But she accepted, didn't she?" Wanda says and Agatha sighs.

"On her terms, yes." Answered the woman. "Your mother was a smart girl, Wanda. She made me swear under the best intentions."

And it takes a moment for Wanda to understand what was really being said.

"How?"

Agatha sighs, turning to you again. "I took a perpetual vow to do what was right. What would save lives, what she considered right." She explains. "But contract magic is so encompassing. Especially when you say ambiguous phrases like do the right thing, or stuff like that. That's why I was able to get around the spell so many times. That's why it shaped itself with her death."

"That's why you can't hurt Wanda." You conclude in a sigh.

Agatha nods. "The power of the Scarlet Sorceress has always been tempting. But I would never steal it from Natalya, she was my daughter." She says. "But you were just a student. And I wouldn't mind taking that responsibility out of your hands."

"Not even if I was her daughter?" Wanda asks in a mixture of disgust and indignation, but Agatha only gives a humorless laugh.

"Don't judge me so much." She retorts. "If I didn't care, you wouldn't even be alive. Least of all your girlfriend."

But Wanda steps away, putting herself in front of you.

"You didn't do this because you care." She accuses. "You did it because of the vow. Because you will die if you don't keep your words to her."

"Maybe." She says,shrugging. "But what matters is my actions, not motivations. Actions are all that matter in the end."

"I'm sick of this, Agatha." Wanda retorts indignantly. "You think you can say some philosophical shit and get rid of the things you've done? You manipulated my entire family, and you played with my destiny. I'd rather be alone than around you."

Wanda walks off at a brisk pace, and you follow her, not knowing exactly what to do.

Agatha clenches her jaw, refusing to turn around and apologize.

Wanda begins to pack up very quickly, and you stare wide-eyed as she puts Godric's sword into her purse.

And soon you are outside.

"I told you I wouldn't forgive you if you crossed another line with me." She says. "But I realized that there's nothing more you can do besides all the bad things you've already done."

"If you expect me to apologize for keeping you alive so far, you are deluding yourself." Agatha retorts stubbornly, her arms crossed.

Wanda gives a humorless laugh, her hand interlacing hers. "I don't expect anything from you, Agatha. Even if you think it's the right thing to do, stay away from me. And especially from her."

"As you wish, Miss Maximoff."

You notice the tears in the older witch's eyes before she looks the other way. Wanda turns her face to you next.

“Think of a safe place.” She asks in a whisper, and you nod. It takes a second before everything spins around.

//-//-//-//-//

Tag list> @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia || @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @helloalycia // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS // @drpepperobsessed // @sighsam // @olsensnpm // @sxfwap // @table57 // @madamevirgo // @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo // @emptysince18x // @xastrydx || @yuhloversxx || @ymzki-haruki || @wouldirunofftheworldsomeday || @lostandsearching || @lezzzbehonesthere || @musicinourlips || @chaekhan || @diaryoflife || @nervoustrack || @aquamarinescarlet || @cristin-rjd || @idamaemann || @fortunatelynerdylight || @iliketozoneout || @blackwow34 // @tiny–freak || @spongebobtentacles || @cyberbonesworld ||

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x yn #wanda x reader #marvel imagines #the scarlet witch x reader #The Scarlet Witch Prophecy

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hopeisour4letteredword · 3 years

Text

don’t play with your food

Summary: Apollo brings snacks with him to hang out with—to go over case files with Klavier. The snacks are for eating. Eating is what the snacks are for.

According to Apollo, of course. Now if you ask Klavier, on the other hand...

Read it below, or here on AO3.

"You know, there's a game people play with that biscuit."

Apollo, who had been crunching along on a piece of pocky and minding his own business, stops and looks at Klavier suspiciously. Klavier smirks back. They're supposed to be going over old case briefs together, which Apollo has increasingly realized is just their mutual excuse for hanging out. Not that it's not fun to argue about old cases with Klavier, not that it doesn't keep Apollo's critical analysis warmed up between cases, not that he doesn't learn from it, but... well, earlier today he'd thought to himself I should pick up snacks on the way over to Klavier's office. And snacks are usually a hanging-out-with-Clay thought. Not a professional-visit-with-my-colleague thought.

Apollo and Klavier are friends, not just colleagues. This is not news. Apollo—mortifyingly, horrifyingly, to Ema's great disappointment in him—likes Klavier. This is also not news. But there's still some weird tingle of embarrassment he gets every time he realizes how much space he's making for Klavier in his life.

Maybe it's because he can't pin down how Klavier feels in turn. He knows Klavier thinks of them as friends, too. That's not in question. It's just that Apollo thinks he might have to dig a hole through the Earth's crust to throw himself down if he finds out Klavier's flirting is just humoring his pathetic little crush. How's Apollo supposed to know if it's sincere? The guy has a rockstar persona to maintain. And if Klavier isn't the same way with Ema, Apollo kind of figures Klavier knows she would resort to violence if he was this heavy-handed with her.

For instance, he's pretty sure Ema would beat Klavier senseless with the box of pocky if he brought the pocky game up to her.

"I know what the pocky game is," Apollo finally says. He fishes another stick of pocky out of the box. Klavier's smirk grows. "It's a waste of a snack."

"So cynical, Herr Forehead. You don't think it's even a little cute?"

"It's either a game of chicken, which you could do without wasting good food," Apollo says, pointing the pocky at Klavier emphatically, "Or it's a stupid excuse to kiss someone you would have kissed anyway, which you could also do without wasting good food."

Klavier props an elbow on the corner of his desk so he can prop his chin on one hand. "I would have thought someone who bluffs as much as you do would be more tolerant of creative games of chicken."

"Rude," Apollo says. He waves the pocky sternly at Klavier. "They're boring. I always win."

He's too prideful to back down, after all. That's why the bluffing works too. He'll win because he has to win, because he refuses to lose.

"Always?"

Klavier is grinning now. Oh, no. Apollo has made a mistake.

Too prideful to back down, indeed. He jerks his chin up, haughtily, and repeats, "Always."

Klavier slowly, maintaining eye contact, reaches over and plucks the piece of pocky out of Apollo's hand. As Apollo watches, Klavier tucks the tip of the pocky between his own lips. He leans forward in his chair and raises his eyebrows at Apollo again. A challenge.

Fuck. God dammit. Bastard.

Apollo's face burns. He fights to keep a stubborn expression, not as mortified as he feels when he shoves himself up from his chair to step over to Klavier's. Klavier has to sit back, now, with Apollo looming over him while he remains seated. Apollo tosses the rest of the box of pocky to the side on Klavier's desk and braces his hands on the armrests of Klavier's chair, leaning in.

It's just chicken. It's just a game of chicken. Apollo always wins at chicken. This is fine, it's fine, he's fine—

He gets his mouth on the other end of the stick of pocky. Inches away from Klavier's own mouth. Three inches, maybe. Tops.

He is not fine.

But Klavier challenged him. And if there was ever anybody Apollo was not willing to lose a game of chicken to, good grief, it's Klavier. He would be so incredibly annoying about it. He hasn't even won yet and he's already being annoying about it, that cocksure smirk a vivid pink where it wraps around the other end of the pocky.

No. Apollo won't back down. He can do this. He's fine.

But following through will mean—

Apollo inches forward. Klavier's blue eyes are dark in the shadow of his eyelashes, blond and fine though they may be. Is Apollo imagining it, or does his smirk soften, just a bit? That sharp pink curve of his lipstick gentled to something more like a real smile.

The thing is—the thing is. Klavier is also not willing to lose to Apollo. Apollo knows that. It's why they work well together in court. Klavier will not give him a victory he hasn't earned, even if he believes in Apollo's client too, because he knows Apollo can do better than that. Klavier doesn't roll over and let him win. So Klavier isn't going to back down, either. In fact, he nudges his mouth further along the stick of pocky, now, too.

So the thing is: if Apollo isn't going to back down, and he knows Klavier isn't going to back down, what the fuck is he doing agreeing to play if he doesn't want his heart broken?

And the other thing is: if Klavier isn't going to back down, and he knows Apollo isn't going to back down, what the fuck is he doing by challenging Apollo to the pocky game?

There's a single inch, if that, between them now.

This is fine. This is totally fine.

Klavier leans a smidge forward, barely any pocky left separating them, metaphorically placing the last move in Apollo's hands. Finish it or don't. Chicken out or don't. Kiss Klavier or don't.

It's fine, he's fine, he's fine—

Apollo's hands tremble where they grip Klavier's armrests as he pushes the rest of the way forward and his mouth nudges against Klavier's.

Klavier exhales. Not a sigh, but a soundless, steady thing, like settling into place. His mouth is softer than Apollo would have expected. Clay made them both try lipstick in their teens, and Apollo remembers hating how tacky it felt, but whatever Klavier's wearing doesn't feel that way. Just silky smooth. And he smells nice. Apollo mostly ignores his cologne, since it isn't too intrusive from a respectable distance, but it's—it's good.

Kissing Klavier is good.

...This is really weird with pocky still in his mouth.

Apollo bites down. Klavier startles at the soft crunch of it, blinking with confusion when Apollo pulls back to chew and swallow. For a brief instant, his expression flashes hurt—in the next moment, it smoothes over. He swallows his own mouthful of pocky and gives Apollo a new smirk that doesn't reach his eyes. So this isn't a joke to him. This was—this was the second thing Apollo said, this was an excuse to kiss him.

"So much for always—"

"Shut up," Apollo says, and dives in to kiss him again. Klavier makes a sound of pure relief. The hand on Apollo's bicep jerks down to his waist, and the next thing that Apollo knows, he's being dragged sideways into Klavier's lap. Apollo instinctively scrambles to stay stable so he doesn't topple out of the chair. He shouldn't have worried, though. He's not going anywhere with the way Klavier clutches at him. Klavier's other hand tangles into his hair to keep him close, like Apollo would get up and leave now.

They stop to breathe after a minute, foreheads resting against each other. Klavier looks about as dazed as Apollo feels. The gentle smile is a lot better than that shitty fake smirk had been.

After a few beats, Klavier says, "I still won."

"You are so fucking insufferable," Apollo says, ruefully. He can't believe he likes this idiot so much. Klavier laughs with unrestrained delight. "You didn't win. Neither of us backed down."

"You did back down—"

"I did not! I wanted the stupid pocky out of the way. And I'm still right about it being a waste of food, what's wrong with you that you couldn't just say something—"

"I've been flirting with you for months and you weren't picking up on it!" Klavier pouts. He shifts his hand out of Apollo's hair to stroke knuckles over his hot cheek. "Besides, you were cute about it."

Apollo wants to protest that assessment, but he has the sinking feeling that insisting he isn't cute will open a can of worms he isn't emotionally prepared to deal with right now. Instead he says, "If that was your master plan, I definitely won, because you were counting on me not backing down for it to work."

"Maybe so," Klavier says, airily. He pats Apollo's cheek. Apollo can't help but lean into the touch. "Your stubbornness is a sure bet."

"I prefer determination."

"Semantics."

"You don't get to lecture me on semantics, you pretend to be German to look cool."

"That's not sem—mmph." Klavier laughs at him again when Apollo retreats from his haphazard attempt at a kiss, muttering an apology. He'd come in too aggressive and more smushed their faces together than anything else. The hand on Apollo's cheek shifts to cup his jaw. "Here, Schatz, let's try that again."

Loathe though Apollo is to admit it, things are easier when he lets Klavier guide him in. Apollo has tried not to imagine what it would be like to kiss Klavier, but if he was pressed, he would have guessed it was a moment of one of them giving into frustration. Fueled by passion and restless leftover energy from courtroom antics. But this isn't Apollo grabbing fistfuls of Klavier's ridiculous popped collar and shoving him back against the nearest wall. It's too gentle for that. It feels strange to insist that it's chaste, what with Klavier pulling him into his lap, but it is. It's just the soft pressure of lips on lips. Apollo's eyes drift closed as he presses into it.

"Should've brought pocky to the office sooner," Klavier mumbles.

"...Me or you?"

"Either. Both." Klavier steals another kiss. "Or you could've just stopped being so clueless. Where was that incredible perception of body language this whole time?"

Apollo splutters, red-faced again. "It doesn't help with this stuff! Insincere flirting isn't lying!"

"Poor baby," Klavier says, with absolutely zero sincere sympathy. "If only I had been completely blatantly obvious, or something—"

"You could have just asked! What's wrong with just asking?!"

Klavier pulls him snug up against his body with both arms wrapped around Apollo's lower back, and kisses him soundly on the mouth. Apollo growls with frustration and throws his own arms around Klavier's neck. This is more like his reluctant daydreams.

It's a good long while before they pull apart again. Apollo has to rest his forehead against Klavier's and pant for breath. Klavier says, softly for all that he's amused, "Please don't yell like that. I'd rather not inspire my colleagues to come check on us."

"They don't come check on us when I'm yelling about cases," Apollo argues, although the idea of another prosecutor coming to see what the fuss is about only to find him in Klavier's lap does make him want to die a little. Volume modulation is not his strong suit, but he'll give it some extra effort to avoid that.

"Your impassioned yelling about cases sounds less distressed," Klavier says. He squeezes Apollo around the waist. "Are you really so annoyed with me?"

"You are very annoying," Apollo says, as sourly as he can manage with Klavier's breath huffing gently against his mouth. "Don't make fun of me for not being able to tell whether you meant it. You're always like that, how am I supposed to know?"

"Always like that with you, maybe."

"Oh, just shut up!" Apollo slumps again him, face well and truly burning now. Klavier laughs quietly. "That's exactly what I'm talking about."

"I don't know what to tell you," Klavier says. He strokes a hand over Apollo's back. "I really don't know what else I could have done to make myself clear. Fräulein Detective was already irritated with me for being, in her words, 'gross' about it."

"Ema's always irritated with you," Apollo says, half-heartedly. Hell. No wonder Ema has been so exasperated with him about Klavier, if even she thought Klavier was being that obvious. And Apollo's going to have to tell Clay he was right, too. A losing round on all counts, aside from the fact that he gets to kiss Klavier now, apparently. "That doesn't mean anything."

"She's very mean to me, it's true." Klavier steals yet another kiss. "Well, if you want to be asked in plain words so badly, consider this my offering: I like you quite a lot, Herr—"

"Finish that nickname and the answer will be no."

"Herr Justice," Klavier finishes, innocently. Apollo laughs despite himself, curling forward to drop his forehead against Klavier's shoulder. His face still feels hot. He doesn't think it's going to cool off any time soon. "Would you like to get coffee sometime, and perhaps kiss some more?"

"We already get coffee all the time," Apollo says, into Klavier's collar. It's true. They have been on astounding number of coffee not-dates for two people who aren't dating.

"Is that a no?"

"Course not, idiot."

"...Of course not as in—"

Apollo kisses him again to make him stop talking. It works, but only temporarily. As soon as Apollo breaks off, Klavier pouts again and says, "All that whining about me not using my words and you won't even say yes."

"Yes," Apollo says. "Yes, ja, hai, sí. How else do you need me to say it? I let you challenge me to the stupid goddamn pocky game, asshole. Yes, I'll date you."

It turns out Klavier can still be insufferably smug even when he loses. Apollo already knew that, though.

#klapollo #klavier gavin #apollo justice #ace attorney #long post

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feverdreamfantasies · 4 years

Text

The Birthday Gift

Pairing: Human!Hoseok x Human!Yoongi x Human!Reader, Snow Leopard Shifter!Jimin x Human!Reader

Featuring: German Shepherd Hybrid!Taehyung, Doberman Hybrid!Namjoon, Neighbor!Jungkook, (Jin to make an appearance later)

Genre: Hybrid AU, Fluff, Angst, Poly AU, eventual Smut, Producer!Yoongi, Scientist!Hoseok

Warnings: Brief mention of blood, Mention of Hybrid abuse, Some adult language, Mentions of a poly relationship between M x M x F

Summary: “Hobi! What is he?” Yoongi repeats himself looking from me in the corner over to his boyfriend.

“He’s a shifter.” Hoseok mumbles, hand rising to scratch the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry. What?”

“He’s a shifter! Okay. I adopted our girlfriend a shifter for her birthday.”

Author’s Notes: This was an idea I’ve had in my head for a little while and I thought I would go ahead and start writing it. Also since this is the first chapter there’s a lot of background information in this one but moving forward there will be less filler and hopefully more story line progression. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter One: The ultimate Birthday gift

Sometimes I wonder how I got here in my life.

After nearly 5 years of being with Yoongi, I thought I was prepared for anything, but standing here in our neighbor Jungkook’s living room watching his sweet arctic fox hybrid, Sooyun, turn into the vicious predator she truly is; I began to question the choices I’d made that lead me here.

Let me backup a little bit to how I came to witness the scene before me. I was quietly having breakfast earlier this morning when Hoseok made his way loudly down the staircase that led into the kitchen.

“Have you seen your boyfriend?” He asked with an emphasis on “your”, clearly perturbed with the man in question.

“What’s he done now that makes him ‘my’ boyfriend?” I say while taking a bite of my toast.

For all the time I have been in a relationship with Yoongi, Hoseok has been with him longer. The two met in their first year at university and began dating shortly there after. I came along about four years later, back when I was a shy, young intern for the music company Yoongi was—and is still— a big time producer for.

I had heard rumors when I first started there that he had a bit of a different romantic life than most. Everyone loved to whisper about the open relationship he and his boyfriend supposedly had. I tried not to listen to the rumors, but I couldn’t deny the big fat crush I had developed on Yoongi either. I thought my heart was going to beat out of my chest every time he walked into the same room as me. And when he asked me out for drinks one day, all I could do was nod in response because I didn’t have the courage to give a verbal yes.

I was nervous and apprehensive about possibly going on a date with an already taken man. But my curiosity got the best of me and I showed up to the bar he had suggested. He was sweet and kind to me. Being patient with my quietness until I warmed up enough to be able to contribute to our conversation.

He was also very straightforward and honest with me.

“I know there are rumors about my personal life in the office.” He stated matter-of-factly, taking a sip of his jack and coke before continuing. “So I’ll admit that I’m kind of surprised you agreed to come out with me tonight.”

I brushed a piece of my hair behind my ear, a nervous habit of mine that brings me an artificial level of comfort. “To be honest” I swallow “I’m not really sure I was even going to show up.”

“Well I’m glad you did.” He said with his adorable gummy smile.

“And to be upfront about everything, the rumors are true. I do have a boyfriend, and we are in a serious, committed relationship.”

I raise my eyebrows at this.

“I know what you're thinking. So then why would I ask a beautiful woman like you out on a date if I’m already spoken for?”

My heart speeds up when I hear him use the word beautiful. He leans across the high top table we are sat at, so he can speak lower and not have the other customers at the bar listen in.

“Hobi and I have always been open to the concept of a polymorphic relationship. We’ve tried in the past with potential romantic partners; but they usually ended up ghosting on one of us, once they figured out what we were looking for.”

“So why do you think I’ll be different?” I question finding some confidence in my voice. Afterall, it isn’t like Yoongi is talking about some small, trivial thing. He’s openly discussing with me the potential of starting a romantic journey with him and his boyfriend. Journey being the only way I can truly describe it because honestly what if this actually became something, what do I say to my parents then? “Mom. Dad. Meet my boyfriend Yoongi and his boyfriend--slash my other boyfriend--Hoseok.”

Yeah...this was most certainly going to be a journey.

“Honestly, I’m not sure you will be. But I like you, Y/N. And from what I’ve told Hoseok so far, he’s interested too.”

I snort at this response. What possibly could I have done to get Yoongi’s attention that he’d like me, let alone know anything about me enough to want to tell his boyfriend.

“Up until tonight, I’ve barely said anything to you.” I state to the dark haired man across from me.

Yoongi shrugs at this like it doesn’t matter. “People speak louder with their actions than with their words.”

“Yeah? And what do my actions say about me?” I ask genuinely.

He doesn’t miss a beat with his response.

“You’re smart without being pretentious. You have confidence without arrogance. And most importantly you’re kind.”

“I’m kind?”

Yoongi nods.

“A couple of weekends ago I saw you inside the hybrid rescue downtown. I was going to go in and say hi, but thought that might intimidate you a little bit.”

He says this last part with a laugh, as my cheeks turn red from the fact I know that would have been true.

“I asked one of your fellow interns, Ilsung, about it. He said you volunteer there whenever you can. That you have a real soft spot for hybrids and their rights. Not many people are as compassionate to their causes. And as someone who has had the honor to adopt two myself, I’m really drawn to others who want to make a difference for them.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m making a difference.” I say sheepishly. “But when I was a kid we had a family cat hybrid named Wendy. She and I did everything together until they came and took her away when we were both 12. And let’s just say that made an impact on me.”

When my parents were kids, hybrids were just starting to be introduced to society. But years prior to that, governments and militaries had been creating and breeding hybrids for years as an experiment to get a defensive edge when it came to warfare. It proved not to be as promising as they had hoped and what ended up happening is they sold their hybrids and hybrid secrets to the highest bidder, which turned out to be a large corporatation. This corporation in turn introduced cat and dog hybrids to the rest of the world. Claiming that they were a step above your average household pet and could provide a more fulfilling companion experience. Hybrids quickly became a hot commodity. And the black market was soon taking off with their own hybrid creations of more exotic and “dangerous” hybrid breeds. Soon the hybrids were beginning to outnumber humans 2 to 1 and fear of who they are and what they can do began to take over.

Laws were passed as a means to protect humans. Rather than create laws that stopped the unethical treatment and breeding of hybrids, they were created to limit their rights. Not completely human but also not completely an animal either, hybrids fell in a category with many blurbed lines. The laws state all hybrids must have an owner and must either be accompanied by that owner at all times or have a microchip implanted within the back of their necks that can be scanned to indicate they belong to someone. Any strays were in extreme cases euthanized and in less extreme cases placed in overcrowded shelters and rescue centers, where they would more than likely spend the rest of their lives.

For those who did get adopted or were bought by breeders, their lives may not be as lucky as those who did not. It isn’t uncommon for those hybrids adopted to end up in underground hybrid clubs. These clubs offer humans all sorts of sick fantasies to play out with hybrids. This can be anything from deadly hybrid fight rings to hybrid brothels where they can use and abuse any female and male hybrids of their choosing. In my time volunteering at the rescue center, I have listened to stories I wouldn’t even wish for my worst enemies to have to endure.

“Wendy came into my life when on my 5th birthday. My Mom and Dad had decided I needed a companion. As an only child with parents who weren't able to have any more kids, my parents thought adopting a hybrid could be the next best thing. But the year we both turned 12, is the year Wendy started to go through her changes.”

Yoongi listened to my story with great intensity.

“Of course as humans we all go through puberty between the ages of 11 and 18. This isn’t uncommon for hybrids either except their changes aren’t typically of the reproductive kind until later in their late teens and early twenties, but what they do change in is behavior. Their animal instincts can have the potential to become more dominant, leading to aggressiveness and in some cases violence.

When Wendy and I were playing outside one day, a neighbor's hybrid wandered into our backyard where we were. He looked to be some small wild cat hybrid, probably bought in some shady back room of an outdoor market. He was around our age if not a little bit older. He’s name was Yongho and he could hear our laughs from inside his house. He asked if he could play with us, saying he was lonely being cooped up inside all day. I was glad to have another person to play with so I said yes immediately without noticing that Wendy was apprehensive. Her tail was flicking side to side and ears were slightly pinned back, but I thought that was only because she may be jealous of having some of my attention shared with another hybrid. I chose to ignore her warning signs and suggested a game of tag.

It all seemed to be going fine. At first I was ‘it’ and although they were both faster than me, Yongho decided to slow down so I could catch him. But once he was ‘it’ that’s when everything would change to become one of the worst days of my life.”

I paused so I could take a sip of my drink to try and calm myself down. I hadn’t thought of this day in a really long time and I was struck by the fact that I was so easily sharing it with Yoongi when not even most of my close friends knew what had happened. Yoongi reached across the table and gently rubbed his thumb over my hand to encourage me to keep going.

I cleared my throat.

“Because Yongho was a predator hybrid, a game of tag can quickly turn into a dangerous game of cat and mouse. When Wendy and I ran off in opposite directions after getting a 10-second head start that’s when Yongho’s animal instincts kicked in. As a slow and small human girl, I became easy prey to the hunter and Yongho began to come after me. Naive to noticing that anything had changed, I giggled as I tried to dodge around the trees in our backyard to create obstacles between us. And when I turned around to see how close he was that’s when I saw the predatory look in his eyes. I gave a small but effective scream which in turn caught the attention of Wendy. She halted in the direction she was going before quickly turning around. I in the meantime froze out of fear. Yongho slowed but didn’t stop moving toward me. He staked his way closer in the same way you would see a lioness do through the brush on a nature show before she pounced on an antelope. And unfortunately for me, I was that antelope. Just as Yongho pounced with claws out, Wendy intercepted him and they both tumbled to the ground, rolling around and making animalistic noises I had never heard before.

This got the attention of my mother. Who once she came outside to see what was happening began yelling for my dad. He ran out and grabbed me. Easily picking me up and throwing me inside the house ordering me to lock the door and telling my mother to call HES (hybrid emergency services). My dad tried to get Yongho off of Wendy when he had managed to pin her to the ground while I burst into tears once the adrenaline started to wear off. HES showed up quickly, but not fast enough to stop Wendy from accidentally scratching my dad. She was aiming for Yongho when my father’s arm got in the way and left a deep wound along his forearm which instantly began to bleed. Because hybrid laws take all cases of violence toward a human seriously, HES not only took Yongho away but they also took Wendy. My father spent the next several weeks in court trying to get her back saying she had scratched him with no ill intention but they wouldn’t listen. The only thing they could offer was for us to send her off to a reform facility, where she would spend the next three years, in hopes that maybe once she had gone through the proper reform training then she would be able to come home. My parents agreed to send her off, but 6 months after she arrived they claimed she had ran away, only to find out in the news a few years later that this reform facility was secretly selling desirable hybrids off to private sellers and the black market. I haven’t seen her since.”

Things between us got really quiet after I told my story. Yoongi continued to rub my hand before noticing that my eyes were watery. Tears threatening to come cascading down. He sprung into action and leapt off his stool scooping me up into a hug.

“I’m so sorry” he whispered.

I could hear the sincerity in his voice and felt overwhelmingly comforted within his embrace. I thought right then and there that I never wanted him to let me go. And I didn’t care if that meant I had to share him with someone else because at that moment it felt like I was always supposed to be his.

Shortly thereafter I met Hoseok face to face. The three of us went on a date to a nice restaurant to see how we would all get along. The date went exceptionally well, as did the next one, and the one after that. After a couple months, the three of us went away for the weekend and discussed the next steps for our future. It was decided that we would all move in together and start a relationship that would define my next five years.

Looking over at Hobi now with his brows crossed and a mild look of exhaustion on his face. I couldn’t help but smile slightly.

“He promised me he would come home last night so he could be here for your birthday this morning.”

“Yoongi is here.” I say. “Also nice of you to wish me a Happy Birthday.”

He rolled his eyes before walking over to me and kissing me on the forehead. “He didn’t come to bed last night.” He responds as he releases me.

“That’s because he came to my bed,” I say with a teasing grin.

Once we moved into this house, it was decided that Yoongi and Hoseok would share a room while I had my own. I didn’t mind it much because Yoongi would often sneak into my bed once Hobi fell asleep. Or if Yoongi was at the studio all night then one of our hybrids would cuddle up with me, especially Taehyung.

Speaking of which, the German Shepherd hybrid came bounding through the backdoor. A smile on his face and a bouquet of wildflowers clutched in his hand.

“Happy Birthday Y/N!”

“I got you these!” He thrust the wildflowers toward me. Tail wagging rapidly behind him.

“Thank you Tae.” I take the flowers from him smelling them in the process. “These are beautiful.”

He’s smile grows wider. Taehyung was one of the two hybrids Hoseok and Yoongi had adopted before I joined their family. Well adopted was not really the correct term to use. Hoseok worked as a scientist for the government. And though they had supposedly moved on from the hybrid world, the three of us knew that wasn’t true. Hoseok started working there right out of college. Initially he was told he was there for human medical purposes, specifically in terms of medicine and vaccine studies. However, while that was mostly true, Hoseok discovered one day by accident that there were also medical experiments being done on hybrids in ways that they would never imagine doing to humans.

From that moment on, Hoseok took it upon himself to make changes but he’d have to climb his way to the top in order to make any real change. Now being the second in command to the head of the medical research team, Hobi had more privileges to know what happened in the hybrid labs but still didn’t have full command of what went on in there. But that didn’t stop him from managing to rescue a couple in the process.

I didn’t really know all that had happened to Taehyung and Namjoon--our Doberman hybrid--while they were in that lab, but I knew that it made them respond to things in opposite ways. Taehyung was clingy and loveable. Namjoon was a little standoffish at first but if I played my cards right he could be putty in my hands.

“Where do you want to eat tonight?” Hobi asked.

“You guys aren’t going to make me a homemade meal.” I whine.

“If you want food poisoning then I would be more than happy to make you whatever you would like. Or if you don’t mind eating until almost 2 in the morning then I’ll ask Yoongi what he wants to make tonight.”

I stick my tongue out at him. I hate his reasoning sometimes.

“In that case, I’ll have to get back to you on that.”

“We all know that you’ll choose the same place you always do.” A sleepy Yoongi says with a yawn. His hair slightly sticking up in the back indicating he had just climbed out of bed.

He walks over to me, sliding into the booth of our breakfast nook and kisses me gently.

“Happy Birthday Princess.” He says in his deep groggy voice.

“I’m surprised you're up already.” I state as I fed him some of my breakfast. He takes a bite and swallows before responding.

“Someone made a pretty severe threat of laundry duty if I didn’t show up this morning. And we all know if I’m on laundry duty for a full month, we will all be deeply sorry.”

We enjoy the rest of our morning with happy banter and cuddles on the couch. With a momentary appearance from Namjoon with a quick Birthday greeting before he went on his jog.

As I flipped through the options on Netflix with Tae asleep with his head in my lap, Hoseok’s phone rang which he picked up and answered in his office down the hall. Yoongi and I gave a brief glance at each other figuring it was probably from work before Hoseok quickly ran out of his office and out the front door as though the house was on fire.

We look at each other again before quickly getting off the couch to follow him. Taehyung whines in protest as he loses the warmth of my lap before climbing back onto the couch and quickly falling back asleep.

Hoseok goes over to our neighbor’s house, lifting his arm up to knock on the door when Jungkook opens it with a “Thank God!”

“I thought you said he’d be fine here.” Hoseok says as he follows Jungkook into his living space noticing the low growls of Sooyun coming from within. He hesitates a moment before seeing why Sooyun is making that noise.

He quickly gets his answer as he sees Sooyun with teeth bared at a cowering figure in the corner. He realizes her aggression is toward his Birthday gift for Y/N. While he knew that Y/N was easily loved by Taehyung and Namjoon, they weren’t necessarily her hybrids. Tae belonged to Yoongi and Namjoon was Hoseok’s, who he adopted at the first chance after that fateful day he walked into the hybrid lab by accident. So he figured Y/N needed her own companion and it gave him an excuse to bring home another rescue.

“Well aren’t you going to do something.” He says to Jungkook, calmer than he felt.

“Me? He’s your hybrid.” Jungkook says incredulously.

“Technically he isn’t a hybrid.”

“Then what is he?” Yoongi says behind Hobi, scaring his younger boyfriend in the process. I stand beyond them watching Jungkook’s normally sweet hybrid looking like the true predator she is before moving my eyes to the other hybrid--or rather not hybrid--sitting in the corner with his knees up to his chest. My heart instantly breaks at the sight in front of me and I feel the need to protect him.

“Hey! Enough.”

My voice is loud and clear. Commanding but not violent, just enough to get Sooyun’s attention. A skill I learned at all my years volunteering at the rescue. She backs away and hides behind Jungkook as though she hadn’t done anything wrong to be treated this way. Jungkook pats the hand she rests on his arm, clutching onto his shirt sleeve. White ears pinned back to her equally pure white hair.

I take that time to move to her victim. Taking slow movements making sure not to scare him even more. “Hello.” I say getting him to look up at me with his light grey eyes. He has soft features but an intense gaze. I reach my hand out to help him off the floor. He hesitates before deciding to trust me and stands up into his full height. He isn’t large but he is taller than me, about the same size as Yoongi.

“Hobi! What is he?” Yoongi repeats himself looking from me in the corner over to his boyfriend.

“He’s a shifter.” Hoseok mumbles, hand rising to scratch the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry. What?”

“He’s a shifter! Okay. I adopted our girlfriend a shifter for her birthday.”

It gets suddenly very quiet. I look back over at the shifter in question, his hand still in mine. Yoongi is visibly getting angry, but still trying to remain somewhat calm.

“What the fuck is a shifter, Hobi? Like a werewolf. Did you bring home a werewolf?”

“Don’t be ridiculous! Werewolves aren’t real. He’s a snow leopard shifter.”

For the genius Hoseok actually was he could really do some dumb things, I think as Yoongi comes towards us and pulls me away but not with some resistance from the other person holding my hand. Yoongi drags me aways while also grabbing Hoseok by the shoulder to guide us outside.

Once we step into the front yard, Yoongi turns Hobi around to look at him but doesn’t let me go.

“You know you’ve done some stupid shit in the 9 years we’ve been together, but this might easily top the list. I mean what the hell were you thinking! Where do you even get a snow leopard shifter?”

“The same place I got Taehyung and Namjoon. Just there was more paperwork involved and lots of background checks. And possibly some surveillance on the house for a week or two.” He throws the last part in quickly as though we won’t notice that he agreed to have us be watched by a government entity without getting our consent first.

“He’s going back.”

“What?! No!” This protest comes from me this time. I don’t know what a shifter is, but I do know some of what happens in the labs and he isn’t going back if I have anything to say about it.

“Yes. He. Is.” Yoongi states, as though the decision is final and begins to walk back toward the house only to stop halfway when he realizes none of us are following.

“We can’t keep him.” He states again.

“But why not?” Hobi and I pout at the same time.

Usually if one of us goes against Yoongi we don’t stand a chance at winning, but if we team up together then things inevitably go our way.

“He’s probably dangerous. I mean I still don’t know what he really is.” He stares at Hoseok on this last point.

“Shifters are what the military attempted after the hybrid experiment failed. Essentially, through their research they found that though hybrids are stronger than humans they still aren’t as strong as a real true animal. But you can’t fully control or command an animal, especially not a predatory animal like a tiger or lion…”

“Or a snow leopard.” Yoongi offered.

“Right. Anyways, there was a researcher about thirty years ago who thought what if you could create a breed of human that could, when needed, shift into full animal form. Lots of people laughed at him for this, but that didn’t stop him from running experiments on his own before a top personnel in the government decided to back him on his research. It didn’t take him long, about five years before he got his first successful generation of shifters. Listen, I know you don’t like it Yoongi and you probably think he’s dangerous. But he’s been kept in that lab his whole life. And I promise you that we have nothing to fear with him. In fact, shifters are much safer than hybrids.” Hoseok added as a last minute plea.

Yoongi slowly let out a sigh. “Fine. But…” he quickly adds before Hobi and I get too excited. “If anything happens to a member of our household because of him, then he has to go somewhere else.”

“You have my word that nothing will happen.”

I grab Yoongi and Hobi into a hug in my excitement. “So what’s his name?”

“Jimin.”

187 notes · View notes

blackmissfrizzle · 4 years

Text

Sanctuary

Summary: The reader gives Spooky an ultimatum when he abandons Cesar.

Pairing: Spooky x black!reader

Warnings: Mention of smut & language.

Bacon was sizzling in the pan, the potatoes and eggs were being kept warm in the oven, and you were flipping tortillas while dancing to your Spotify playlist.

“Good morning,” Spooky greeted you, his voice full of sleep.

Still mad that he didn’t care that Cesar had nowhere to go you ignored him and the one thing Spooky hates is being ignored.

He caged you in between him and the stove. “You still giving me the silent treatment, ma?”

You wanted to bump him out of the way, but you didn’t feel like hearing him yell, so you actually spoke to your boyfriend. “Can you please move? I need to get the eggs and potatoes out of the oven.”

Stepping back, Spooky moved and took a seat at the table. Bending down you got the food out the oven and you could feel him admiring your ass.

Silently, you made his and yours plates, slightly slamming his plate down. Oscar always led the prayer and the only time he heard you spoke was the amen.

Halfway into breakfast, you broke and told Spooky what’s been on your mind. “I’m gonna let Cesar stay with me.”

Oscar put down the taco that was halfway to his mouth and just stare you. To others it was supposed to be intimidating, but to you it didn’t mean shit. “Run that by me one more time.”

“I’m gonna let Cesar stay with me,” you repeated yourself, resuming to eat your food.

“No, you’re not. He’s not allowed on Santos’ streets and no girlfriend of a Santo would do that.”

“Well, one of those could easily change.” The threat of y’all breaking up is what caused Spooky’s usual calm demeanor to change. He backed out his seat, causing the chair to scrape across the floor, grabbed your seat to face him and leaned over you.

“You threatening to break up with me?”

Pulling his face closer to you, you kissed him aggressively. First, he was shocked because Spooky was the aggressive one, but once he was over the shock, he got used to it until he wanted to dominate you. Remembering that you needed some air and you had to tell Spooky something, you broke the kiss. “That’s exactly what I mean,” you whispered against his lips.

Oscar pushed off the chair and started pacing. “What do you want me to do? The cuchillos made that call, not me.”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe put your family over the Santos,” you say sarcastically.

“The Santos are my family!” Oscar yelled back.

Unfazed by his outburst, you began cleaning up. Spooky eyed you warily, knowing you could go off at him at any moment for him yelling at you, but you never did. You continued cleaning the kitchen, then headed to the room to change.

When you came back out, you had your overnight bag in your hand. “You can throw away the rest of my things. I don’t need em.”

Spooky tried to snatch the bag out your hand but you were faster. “Y/N, quit your shit and put the bag down. Now!” He ordered you.

“No! I tried to reason with you last night and you blew me off. I tried again this morning and you still won’t budge. I’m not gonna let an innocent kid, a kid I consider a like a little brother live on the streets. So, if you and the rest of the Santos have an issue with it, y’all can kiss my black ass!” You walked towards the front door, but Spooky blocked your exit.

“You think you can do whatever you want because you’re the so-called Princess of Freeridge? You don’t even know how hard it is to live in Freeridge!”

Princess of Freeridge was a nickname that you believed you didn’t deserve. Your dad was the one, who was born and raised in Freeridge, and he was respected by all. He wasn’t affiliated with either the Santos or the Prophets, but both gangs knew not to mess with him, he was dangerous on his own. Eventually, he got out of the hood, got a football scholarship, and made into the NFL.

Once, your dad was big time, your grandma refused to leave her house in Freeridge and being a big momma’s boy, your dad made you and your brothers visit Freeridge frequently. You must’ve been just like your dad, because you took to Freeridge instantly. It was like you were meant to thrive in that neighborhood. Even your dad noticed, and he always said he felt more comfortable with you in Freeridge by yourself than your three older brothers. Also, it didn’t hurt that your uncle, who your dad could barely stand was a Prophet.

With street cred from your dad and uncle, you were practically untouchable in Freeridge. Whenever you were in Freeridge, you somehow always ended up hanging out with Spooky, which eventually turned into a romance.

As you got older, you tried to help the community. You organized various block parties against gun violence, built a community center named after your dad, and helped ex-convicts find legal and sustainable income. But eventually, you would go back to your home in the hills and live your ‘rich girl life’ as Spooky would describe it.

A knock on the door alerted you. When you reached for the doorknob, Oscar slapped your hand away and pushed you behind him, being his overprotective self.

One look out the door and Spooky rolled his eyes. “Oh, you called this pendejo?”

The man he was referring to was your bodyguard, Ray. Even though you could hold your own and no one would be stupid enough to try something with you (except them young’ins as your dad claimed), your dad insisted that you have a bodyguard especially since you came from a famous family.

Ray ignored Spooky and turned his attention to you. “Y/N, you ready? Everything at your grandmother’s is ready.”

Ray and Spooky never liked each other. Spooky swore up and down that Ray had a crush on you and would put the moves on you if he had the chance. Ray, a veteran and an ex-convict himself said Spooky was too small-minded. If he was gonna be a criminal, it better be to make his life better and he believed that it wasn’t and that Spooky was gonna drag you down, not elevate you.

“Yeah, I’m ready Ray. Can you take my bag to the car? I just need to speak to Oscar real quick.” Hesitantly, Ray stepped off the porch to the car.

Grabbing each of Spooky’s hands, you pulled him into a hug. “I love you and I will always love you. Just when you come to your senses, let me know, Oscar.” You kissed him goodbye and hoped with all your heart that he would change his mind.

—

Weeks had passed since you saw Spooky, but you never really had the time. You had to take care of Cesar, listen to his own relationship problems, make sure your play cousin Jamal didn’t get in anymore trouble, and work.

A girlfriend of another Santo bumped into you at the grocery store and told you about the party the Santos were having. She insisted you go because all the hoes would be on Spooky since he was single.

Jealousy reared its ugly head and that’s how you ended up at the party. And homegirl was right, girls were all over Spooky. You were about to go in on him when you saw a very underage person by all the liquor.

“Ay, Ruby what are you doing here?” You questioned one of Cesar’s best friends.

The endearing but annoying teen looked up to you with low eyes. “Your ex-boyfriend dragged me here. And by the way, may I mention that your post-breakup glow is phenomenal.”

Leaning down, you gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you. Just for that I won’t give you any shit about drinking, as long as you can hold your liquor.” Even if he didn’t compliment you, you wouldn’t have snitched on him. It wasn’t too long ago when you were the one drinking underage.

Taking a drink of your own, you roamed around the party, mingled with some folks until one of the girls in Spooky’s lap decided to say something. “What are you doing here? Didn’t Spooky drop your ugly ass?”

Choosing to ignore her for the sake of the party, you turned around and walked away, but homegirl didn’t get the message and pulled you by the shoulder. “Didn’t you hear me, you Prophet bitch?” Her words barely registered in your head, because all you could do is stare at the hand, she decided to touch you with.

Everyone else got quiet to watch the showdown, but Spooky rushed to intervene. He knew once you got that glossy look in your eye it wasn’t long before you started swinging and there was no way Bianca could hold herself against you. Even Spooky was scared to try you.

“Bianca, yo, chill!” Spooky tried to warn the girl, but she was too dumb for her own good.

“No, fuck that! This little rich girl thinks just because her dad grew up in Freeridge, she can do whatever she wants, but she ain’t one of us! She’s more of a Prophet because of her bitch-ass uncle and cousin. She doesn’t deserve a Santo like you, Spooky.” Then the dumb bitch decided she could kiss Spooky in front of you. When she finished, she let Spooky go and smirked at you like she just won him. If she had any social awareness, she would’ve noticed he was disgusted by the kiss.

One look at you and Spooky knew he couldn’t stop you. He slyly stepped out of the way and let you do your thing.

You weren’t one for talking, so you let your fist fly and connect with Bianca’s jaw. She was out cold with one punch. People thought you were soft because you grew up privilege, but you always proved them wrong. They seemed to forget that you had three older brothers, all in professional sports, and one was a mma fighter. Hell, you basically grew up fighting.

Bianca’s friends tried to jump you, but none had hands like you. “Don’t you even fucking dare, Spooky,” you warned him against trying to get the girls off you.

Eventually, they gave up because of the embarrassment of getting beat up by one girl. Leaning over a semi-conscious Bianca, you told her and the other girls surrounding, “Leave Spooky alone and keep my name out your mouth or I won’t go easy on you next time.”

You gave her one good kick and turned to grab Spooky, tonguing him down in front of everyone, marking your territory. The hoots and hollers from everyone alerted you that you weren’t alone, so you stopped kissing him.

Spooky had that lustful look in his eyes and you knew your drought was about to end. He threw you over his shoulder and led you to his house while everyone else cheered you on.

Once inside the house, Spooky set you on your feet and tried to kiss, but you moved out of the way. Hurt that you rejected him, Spooky threw a photo of you and him across the room. “What the fuck are you doing here, Y/N? You gonna claim me in public and reject me in private? What do you want?!”

The pain in his voice caused you to cry. Never in your life have you ever heard Spooky this emotional and to know you were the cause was breaking your heart. “You,” you whispered in between hiccups.

“You got me, baby. Come back home.” He opened up his arms, inviting you back.

Shaking your head, you countered, “I can’t. Not unless your taking Cesar back.”

Spooky ran his hands from the back of his head to the front of his face. This woman was going to drive him crazy. “Come here.” He ordered, taking a seat on the couch. You followed his instructions and instead of sitting next to him, you sat in his lap. Snuggling into him you smelled the beer, weed, and mesquite wood making an intoxicating scent that described him.

Gripping your chin hardly and staring deep into your eyes, Spooky began to speak. “You gotta keep this to yourself. I mean you can’t tell anybody. Not even your pops, understand?”

Sitting up straighter at the seriousness Oscar’s voice you nodded your head yes. “What’s going on, Oscar?” You asked, only using his government name when you were serious.

He began telling you of his and Cesar’s plan of getting him back in the good graces of the Santos. They planned on setting up the Prophets and he even ensured that it didn’t involve your uncle getting caught up.

When he finished explaining, you stood up from his lap and began pacing. Your silence was making Spooky nervous, he grabbed your hand to stop you. “Baby, you good?”

Slapping his hand away, you stood over him and began yelling. “Hell no! You mean to tell me I’ve been moping around about your ass for weeks and almost fucked another guy, for you to tell me you’ve been playing me?”

“Who you almost fuck?” Spooky disregarded the rest and wanted to know who was dumb enough to mess with Spooky’s girl.

“Nah, don’t worry about that. Did you fuck any of those bitches, Oscar Diaz?” You were hovering over him, pointing your index and middle finger on his temple, not caring that he didn’t tolerate that type of disrespect.

Spooky smiled up at you. He was happy that you were just as possessive over him as he was over you. “No, quierda.” He pulled you into his lap, nuzzling his face into your neck. “I love your crazy ass too much to do that.”

“I love you too,” you muttered against his lips before kissing him. Spooky’s hands went from your hips to under shirt to your bra strap. To help him out you shrugged your shirt off and once it was off it was like he sobered up. Spooky pushed you off his lap and he stood up looking for your shirt.

“What the hell, Spooky?”

“This plan ain’t happening until a couple of weeks and for no one to suspect anything we need to keep up appearances.” Spooky explained, trying his best not to continue what you started.

“Which means you’re still not talking to Cesar and we’re still not together,” you finished for him. “How are we gonna explain tonight?”

Spooky waved you off and smacked his lips. “Man, Julio and his girl breakup and fuck all the time. It ain’t far-fetch for us to be doing the same.”

Smirking you reached out for Spooky’s belt to undo. “We haven’t fucked yet.”

To stop you, Spooky grabbed your wrists and turned your back against his chest. “And we’re not until all this is over, because if I get one taste of you, I’m not stopping.”

He was right, both of you could be insatiable. Reluctantly, you put your shirt on and began making your way to the door. You wanted to stay the night, but the temptation was too great.

“I’m sorry, I lied to you for so long. I didn’t want to involve you with all this.”

Caressing his cheek, you replied. “No, I should’ve known better. Under all that roughness, you’re a good man, Oscar Diaz.” You reached up to kiss him on the spot where your hand was.

Turning the doorknob, you were about to open the door when Spooky stopped you. “Aye, who’s the fool that’s dumb enough to try to fuck you?”

“No one important,” you rolled your eyes at him.

“Just let him I’ll shoot him if I need to.”

“Stop it!” Hitting him in the stomach to reprimand him. “I’ll call you when I get home.”

As soon as you opened the door there was a bunch of cheers for Spooky. All of his friends hyped for him ‘getting some.’ To put on a show, he smacked your ass when you turned to walk to your car. You glared back at Spooky to let him know he would pay for that, but it didn’t faze him. Instead he smiled and mouthed ‘I love you.’ And at that you couldn’t be too mad, because despite all the ups and downs Spooky always had the best intentions and was the man for you.

Tags: @soufcakmistress @chonisberonica @marvels-gurl @veryfastspeedz @bananasandhoney @badbitchtingzs

#black!reader #spooky #oscar diaz #spooky x reader #spooky x black!reader #oscar diaz x black!reader #oscar diaz x reader #spooky fanfic #spooky fanfiction #on my block fanfic #on my block #on my block fanfiction #on my block fandom #frizzlesfic #frizzlefic

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luxekook · 4 years

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THE SEVEN || prologue

⇥ pairing: ot7 x reader

⇥ genre: supernatural au with action, angst, smut, and (trace amounts of) fluff

⇥ summary: a series in which the reader fights to survive, attracts a powerful group of demons, and causes general mayhem in a post-apocalyptic new world

⇥ word count: 1.5k

⇥ warnings: nc17, *this fic has scenes of graphic violence*, demons, bloodshed, anarchy, general apocalyptic things, cursing, eventual poly relationship, a made-up language, hints of desire to own, brief mention of abuse, an attempt at world-building

⇥ beta reader: heathy @shadowsremedy - thank u so much!!! i was holding off on beginning this fic for so long, and you really helped me move forward! uwu<3

Prologue

The world has completely gone to shit, I think to myself as my blade slices right through my opponent’s eye. The responding roar of the crowd reinforces that thought as the lifeless body slumps to the ground.

Removing my bloodied knife from the man at my feet, I stand, exhaustion kicking in after yet another adrenaline-fueled fight. Gazing out at the surrounding crowd of humans and demons, I narrow my sights on tonight’s guests of honor – the seven demons who would decide if my performance was deemed worthy enough of payment.

Raising my chin in defiance, my eyes meet those of the pompous greed demon of the Ahgase Seven. Lim Jaebeom lounges on a provisional throne flanked by his six brothers. Their combined beauty is ethereal but leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

How is it that creatures so prone to evil can be so lovely to look at?

After glancing briefly at each brother, I finally make eye contact with Jackson Wang, the Ahgase’s pride demon. He inclines his head with a satisfied smirk, simultaneously permitting my payment and ordering my swift dismissal.

The callous disregard of my efforts never fails to ignite a familiar burn of fury within me. I fight to the death to earn a week’s worth of food and shelter, and all I get is a fucking nod in response? Complete and utter bullshit if you ask me.

My teeth grind together as I give the slightest and stiffest bow possible in the Ahgase Seven’s general vicinity and stalk out of the Pit. Reminding myself that I actively choose this fate never really helps, given that the alternatives are equally as shit – if not more-so.

Basically, since the planet lost three-fourths of its population in the Reaping, the old capitalistic way of the world is no longer. Now, the main ways to survive deal with what you have to offer as a resource – your body, your skill, your labor, your loyalty. I choose to fight because, for me, it’s the soundest option.

My prior life had been sketchy at best. I had taught Krav Maga, a form of aggressive self-defense and reflexive fighting, to teens and young adults. I also had used Krav Maga (and other more nefarious methods) on abusive parents or guardians, bullies, or romantic partners - the very reasons my students came to my classes.

My resulting ambiguously gray background probably had influenced heaven and hell’s decisions to leave me behind. Still, killing hadn’t come easy for me in the beginning, but now it seems like second nature. In this new era, there are no rules, no moral codes, no winners, no losers. There are only survivors.

And I’ll be damned if I am not one of them.

Last year, the Reaping left us all in chaos and confusion. The supernatural had become natural. Heaven took those deemed worthy and let Hell deal with the rest. But, as it turns out, Hell was just as picky.

For a few days, demons ruthlessly reaped millions of humans and dragged them below the earth. And then the reaping stopped. The humans that remained were left with burned cities, abandoned homes and a complete absence of law. They were a ruthless bunch with questionable backgrounds and ambiguous morals. It honestly made sense that they were left behind – myself included.

The short period after the Reaping brought with it a general mayhem which resulted in looting, fires, and general destruction. The remainder of society was bare-boned, with only the richest areas having luxuries like running water and electricity. I referred to this time period – the lull before the demon Sevens took over – as the pseudo-Hunger Games. I legit had to pull a full Katniss Everdeen in order to stay alive during those two weeks.

Then, finally, the demons rose again.

The demons that rose were power-hungry and desperate to prove themselves worthy to rule over the New Earth. They looked human until you got too close and felt the negative energy that emanated from them. It's almost a built-in warning for those lower on the metaphorical food-chain not to get close to a source of potential harm.

By possessing a demon of each sin category, Sevens were able to bond together and max out their powers. Often, Sevens took on courts and consorts to siphon additional power, but my intel on demons was mostly built on speculation and rumors. The general consensus seemed to be that humans joined demon factions because of the promise of protection, food, and other resources. However, no one usually survived leaving a faction led by a Seven once they had declared fealty.

I vowed to never willingly enter into a Seven’s territory. My freedom and independence were the only things I had left to hold onto. And that was how I ended up in my current situation as a fighter in the Pit, the rough, man-made arena where fighters battle to the death for winnings while the audience bets furiously on their selected victor. No one had bet on me at first, but they learned quickly.

The Pit’s existence sprung out of desperation for distraction. Humans and demons alike needed some form of entertainment away from the monotony and death embedded within everyday life. Located within the Neutral Zone, the Pit provided humans the ability to earn a living and to make a name for themselves. Those that fought in the Pit were only lower on the human totem pole to the Pit Master and to the merchants in the Neutral Zone. Below the fighters were the scavengers, the workers, the peasants, and the lost.

Marching towards the exit gate, I nod to the next competitor to enter the arena – it might be the last I’d see of them. Pit Master Agra greets me as I step through the gate’s threshold and finally out of the public eye.

“Good work,” she forces a smile that only looks like she’s in pain, “But, next time make sure there’s more blood.”

I say nothing.

Agra takes my silence as acceptance and jerks her head at the empty hallway, indicating my second dismissal of the day. “You have one week until your next fight,” she predictably calls as I make my way down the tunnel towards my makeshift room located in the fighters’ dorms.

I wave a hand carelessly behind me in a sign of recognition. Damn, what I wouldn’t give to challenge her in the Pit.

Pausing outside my room, I struggle to unhook my necklace that held my key. The blood on my fingers still has not fully dried, and I grow increasingly frustrated. I just want to bathe, goddamnit.

“Allow me,” a deep voice purrs from behind me. I shudder as two hands suddenly brush my own away from their hold on the necklace. Warm fingers brush the nape of my neck as the sound of a slight inhale meets my ears.

Fuck, I hope this person isn’t smelling me because I am almost certain the combination of sweat and dried blood is extremely unpleasant.

“There,” the voice rasps, “All done.”

My necklace is gone from my neck, and I turn to retrieve it from whoever just assisted me.

“Oh, fuck,” I hiss, taking in the demon before me. His teal hair is wild and reminiscent of a blue flame. His black eyes are large and slanted, fixed on me with a peculiar expression I just cannot place. His clothes are expensive. I peer closer, inspecting the intricate details on his patterned top. Was that Versace?

In this economy?

His arm extends to mine. My necklace dangles from one finger carelessly. “Here, mì shaìà (my pet).”

“My name is (y/n),” I grab the necklace and shudder when our fingers brush for a split second, “Not Mishaeya.”

The demon smiles. It’s large and boxy and completely predatory. “(Y/n). Mì shaìà. It doesn’t make a difference.”

Am I missing something?

“Listen, demon-dude, I just killed someone like five minutes ago. Can you stop being cryptic and just tell me why you’re lurking outside my room?”

“Ah, yes,” he stalks closer to me. My back hits the door to my room. He licks his lips, “I was watching you. You are quite the fighter, little one.”

“Little?” I glance down at my thick and well-muscled self, “Mhm, okay.”

“Are you not scared of me, mì shaìà?” His hand cups my chin, thumb darting out to wipe some blood from the shallow cut across my cheek.

“Should I be?” I front like my heart isn’t beating out of my chest.

“Yes,” he smiles before sucking the droplets of my blood from his thumb. “Surely someone as exquisite as you should need protecting. I’m surprised no one owns you yet, (y/n).”

My back straightens, “No one owns me. No one ever will.”

The demon’s head tilts as he silently studies me for a few moments. He looks like he almost wants to say something before he steps back and bows. “Sleep well, mì shaìà. I will be seeing you again.”

I gape as he walks away from me. A thought strikes me. “Hey!” I call after him, “What’s your name?”

He answers without looking back or breaking his stride, “V.”

a/n: i made up Deìthi, the language that the demons use in this story. i will keep a running list of translations at the bottom of each chapter as well as putting initial translations in parentheses following the first usage of the word.

Deìthi (The Language of Demons) Translation List:

Mì shaìà - My pet

#bangtanhq #btswriterscollective #kwritersworldnet #bangtanarmynet #btswritingcafe #btsbookclub #180knet #hyunglinenetwork #bts #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #ot7 x reader #bts au

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doing-an-okay-job-miranda · 4 years

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The Night Fellow

AO3 / Masterlist

Warnings: Body Horror, Monster Virgil(he’s a creepy friend right there), mentions of violence and shooting, descriptions of teeth, please let me know if i should tag anything else

Summary:

The Night Fellow is a creature made of both flesh and metal that lives in the long-abandoned mansion on top of the hill outside of town. At night, the Fellow creeps out of their home to roam through the trees and walk along the overgrown path between the mansion and the town.

Logan has a fascination with this (somewhat) passive creature and decides to go find it.

Or, Logan hunts down the town's local cryptid and shoves his hands in their mouth and the thing kinda decides they like him.

-----

Upon first glance on a dark trail, one might think the Fellow is a normal person, a tall stranger out for an evening walk. There aren't have managed to get close to the creature as the moment they sense someone nearby, they drop to all fours and disappears into the trees. The few that have snuck up on the fellow describe black eyes with glowing white dots for pupils, shaggy dark hair, their fingers end at their knuckles, and are replaced by long thin mechanical claws. They say the Fellow's teeth are like knives and they can open their jaw wide enough to fit someone's head inside their mouth.

Logan kinda doubts that last bit.

The night fellow is not inherently violent despite his frightening appearance, they flee at the first sight of people and the only record the town has of an actual attack beyond a few shallow scratches is from a man hunting out in the woods who shot at them, said man had been found with terrifying claw wounds and bite marks after being dumped on the edge of town by the creature.

Logan always finds that part interesting. The town as a whole made it a silent rule that as long as you leave the Night Fellow alone, they'll happily leave you alone as well but the creature could have very much left the man they injured to bleed out in the woods but instead, carried the hunter back to town and left him where he could get help.

Logan knew of the teens that were dared to go up the hill and try to enter the mansion, would overhear a group of friends talking about their adventure during the classes he taught. One had told him that the Fellow had crawled along the walls and ceiling like a spider, another said they barely made it a foot in the door before the Fellow charged at them on all fours and slammed the door as the stumbled back outside. One young girl who had been to the mansion multiple times told Logan that the Fellow is much less likely to chase you out if you knock before you enter and stay in the main foyer, she told the teacher about her friend who tried going through the halls only to have the Fellow follow directly behind them until they left.

The more Logan heard about the Night Fellow, the more curious he became. It could be dangerous, from what Logan understands, the Fellow can get a lot more aggressive towards adults who invade their home then the kids the Fellow simply scares off or let's wonder until either bored or unnerved by their presence but that just makes it all the more interesting.

Logan finds himself trudging up the hill at dusk on a weekend. The creature is aware enough to recognize age differences, the Fellow can tell when someone is a threat and is content to either scare them off or flee from them with only one case of actual harm being argued as more self-defense then anything malicious, especially since the fellow recognized that their attacker would die if left intended and took the effort to get him to safety.

So, Logan stands in front of a mansion that's standing in fairly good shape for a building that's been left to the ages for longer then he's been alive through the gate has been long since destroyed. The teacher knocks on the large door and gives it a few moments before carefully pushing the only slightly rotted wood open and steps inside to the foyer, guiding the door to only be open slightly before he turns around to face the room.

After clicking on his flashlight, he looks around the place. The room looks like it hasn't been touched in ages. Dust and grime coat every surface along with layers of cobwebs that cover everything, accented with the smell of mildew in the air. Logan makes a note that he shouldn't stay inside too long, he hadn't thought about what sort of mold may be growing in this old place and thus didn't bring any sort of filter to breathe through. He'll have to remember that for next time but for now, short term exposure wouldn't do any lasting harm and he came all the way out here for a reason and he'll be damned if he doesn't catch at least a glance of the Night Fellow.

The sun outside is quickly setting, the dirty windows barely probably would barely let light in if it was full daylight so Logan's only left with his flashlight as his only light source in the dark. He only makes it a little bit in, standing in the center of the foyer when he hears the soft ticking of a clock.

It's strange, looking around the room Logan can find an old clock on the floor but it's long broken. The teacher doesn't have to wait long to figure it out as he hears the quiet creak of metal and a ruffle of fabric directly above him.

Logan barely manages to stumble backward in time, shining his flashlight up in time to see a black blur drop from the ceiling and land on the floor where he was standing with a heavy thud. The teacher has no time to think as the creature immediately scrambles onto all fours and charges at him, he backs away quickly dropping his flashlight in panic as the thing comes right at him-

No! Logan locks in his legs in place and holds his breath, his heart pounds as he fights every instinct in his body telling him to flee. He shuts his eyes tightly, arms defensive raising to cover his head but beyond that, he forces himself to stay still and breathe through his nose.

The Night Fellow won't hurt him as long as he doesn't give them a reason to.

Sure enough, the sound of scrambling limbs stop and Logan doesn't feel any sort of pain from an attack. The ticking noise is much closer, directly in front of him but it gets drowned out by an animalistic growl so deep that Logan can feel the vibrations in his ribcage.

"I'm not here to hurt you." The teacher tries to keep his voice even but he's shaking to the core. "I'm not going to cause you any trouble." He doesn't even know if they understand him but he slowly lowers his arms and forces his eyes to open.

The Night Fellow is low to the ground, head bent back at an awkward angle to stare up at him little glowing white dots in their eyes. They're breathing too hard, chest rising and falling rapidly like they're panting but Logan can't hear them breathing. His flashlight is knocked to the side but it provides enough light for the teacher to get a good look at the Fellow.

He has to commit everything to memory, choppy hair, wide sunken eyes, their mouth slightly open, and filled with far too many teeth. It looks like they're wearing some patched up robe with loose sleeves that bunch on the floor, very poorly hiding the beings metal claws. The ticking noise is coming from the Fellow, Logan can tell that much but he's not entirely sure where or why there's ticking.

"Do you speak English?" Logan asks them to receive nothing but their unblinkingly stare. "Can you understand me?" Once again getting no reply which is disappointing as he hoped he would be able to ask the Fellow questions but they seem content just staring at him, he can't be sure if they don't understand or just don't care to answer.

Logan takes a deep breath to calm his nerves before crouching down slowly to be eye level with the Fellow, they back up a step as he moves and the teacher suppresses a shudder at the unnatural angle their legs move in. He meets the being's eyes and feels a chill down his spine but most of his fear takes second place to his fascination.

"You're an incredible being." He mutters mostly to himself but for once his talking to himself is helpful as the Fellow seems to respond. Their pupils shrink into slits as they rear back, their gaze flickering around the room like suddenly he was the scary thing. "It's okay." He tries to soothe as he reaches forward. "I mean you no harm."

The Night Fellow opens their mouth, letting out a low growl as his hand gets too close but the sound cuts off as Logan grips their jaw without thinking, completely forgetting his self-preservation in favor of getting a better look at their teeth.

"Fascinating." Logan breathes, keeping a grip on their chin with one hand while the other pushes on their cheek to tilt their head back. "I was lead to believe that your teeth are made of metal but these are all bone." The teacher strokes his thumb over one of the being's large canines but quickly retracts it as the Fellow tenses their jaw and sharp metal teeth snap down to cover the bone. "Oh, amazing! Retractable teeth, they almost resemble the teeth on a bear trap."

The light from Logan's fallen flashlight did a well enough job at lighting up the room but without it in hand, it's a bit harder to see clearly the details inside the Night Fellow's maw. There's a whirling noise in the back of their throat as Logan let's go of their jaw to reach into their mouth, feeling around the gums to make out the sheath that contained the metal teeth when retracted. The Fellow's bone teeth still stood out behind the metal and Logan carefully maneuvers his fingers past the sharpened metal to rub the duller, more human teeth at the back.

(He makes a note that the Fellow's jaw is stretched unnaturally wide and seems like it could go wider.)

"Is that a..." He mumbles to himself, squinting inside the being's mouth in hopes of making something out in the darkness. "It looks like you have a cavity filling." Logan really can't tell for sure without proper lighting but it does seem like it. Are there dental records of this creature? As far as Logan knew the first confirmed sighting of the Night Fellow was about sixty years ago and they've always been very avoidant of people, only recently getting bolder in scaring away those that wander too close.

Logan pulls back enough to insect the being in front of him. They're wide eyes watching him intensely, at some point while Logan was inspecting their teeth they shifted to rest on their knees and their hands hover near Logan with claws facing towards him like they're ready to strike but hesitating.

It's this moment that Logan remembers that he's in front of a very dangerous creature, figuratively putting his head in the lion's mouth. Sure, the Night Fellow seldom injures anyone but most people don't actively interact with them.

"Ah, I apologize." Logan carefully removes his fingers from the Fellow's mouth and winces as the being's mouth snaps shut near immediately, the metal clinking gives a harsh reminder that the thing could have very well of bitten his fingers off. "Thank you for your patience with me, I got a bit too excited there but I should have asked permission before touching you."

The Fellow's hands lower from their tense position, lowering down to rest on the ground and Logan can make out some of the intricate details of the joints where those thin metal blades connect to their middle knuckle. He nervously wipes his hands on his shirt to rid them of the being's saliva, it's a shame as the teacher would love to collect a sample of it but he hadn't expected to actually get this close to the Night Fellow and thus didn't think to bring a kit.

The Fellow doesn't seem agitated, thankfully. Their head tilted slightly in curiosity as they seem to inspect the human in front of them. Logan's still not entirely sure if they understood anything he said, let alone his apology but they don't seem to hold any ill will towards him which helps Logan not worry too much when they shift closer to him.

He manages not to flinch when the being reaches forward and wraps their "fingers" around his wrist, he doesn't even try to resist as they pull his hand closer as gently as possible. The teacher is rather amazed to find that the finger-like blades aren't actually sharp, their edges dulled down. Logan's sure that they're still dangerous if the Night Fellow put intent behind those claws but at the moment their touch is gentle as they have his hand resting palm up, it certainly helps Logan feel less nervous as they raise their other clawed hand and traces the blade of their pointer finger from the veins on his wrist to the tip of his fingers.

Logan does his best to keep his hand still for them while trying to figure out what they're doing, the glide of the pointed metal across his palm tickles slightly from how gentle the being is and each time his fingers so much as twitch, the fellow lets out a soft warbled noise and stills their motion until Logan holds his hand still long enough.

Logan doesn't realize how much time has past, the teachers legs ache from being in the same position for so long but he doesn't dare move as the Night Fellow traces the wrinkles in his hand. He commits each detail to memory, the being so focused on whatever it's doing gives Logan the perfect chance to observe it's appearance for any missed details. He wishes he could grab his sketchbook from his side bag but that would require moving and also reclaiming his dominant hand from the creature in front of him so instead he just memories to recreate later.

They are both startled when a loud trilling noise rings out from the room, the Fellow drops Logan's wrist as he jerks back in surprise and claw at their chest until the noise stops. They jerk their head up suddenly, looking up past Logan where he's now sitting and upon following their gaze Logan sees one of the dirty windows.

Any trace of light from the setting sun is long gone, the only light source is Logan's flashlight and the Beady little dots that are the Night Fellow's pupils. The teacher scrambles for his phone from his coat pocket, it lighting up and revealing multiple missed calls from his friend but Logan ignores them more the moment.

12:01 AM

Logan must have been here hours without realizing it.

The Night Fellow seems to realize the passage of time skipped over them too as they flickered their gaze between the teacher and the dark window. They almost reach towards him again but draw their hand back, seeming to debate with themself before letting out a huff of air in probably the most human gesture Logan's seen from them tonight. Their claws scrape the floor slightly as they push themself up and onto their feet, standing tall and towering over the teacher.

Logan is not a short man by any means but he certainly feels small as the Fellow steps around him to get to the front door, the being standing taller than the frame. Yes, Logan had known that the Night Fellow is a tall imposing figure when standing but he wasn't expecting the being to be a good bit over seven feet tall.

The Night Fellow looks back at him for a moment after they pull the door open but doesn't wait for Logan to scramble to his feet before they duck out the door and begin their night walk, leaving the mansion's door open. The teacher rushes for his flashlight and follows after them to find them already at the edge of the property and walking past the decrepit gate.

Logan had to run to catch up to them, finally getting close just a little ways past the tree line when the Night Fellow suddenly freezes and jerks their head to look at him. The sudden movement startling Logan enough that he stops himself several feet away from them.

Logan mostly expects the Fellow to drop on all fours once more and flee into the forest but instead the being just stands there and watches him. The teacher takes a breath, figuratively throwing caution to the wing for the hundredth time this night.

"May I walk with you?" The teacher makes a small gesture towards the path in front of them. "I have to return to town and it seems like you're heading that direction."

The Fellow doesn't respond to him but doesn't run from him either, they simply turn their head back forward and continue their walk, though Logan notes that they move slower than before which allows the teacher to catch up and walk beside them.

"So, you can understand me?" He asks only to be met with a side glance from the being. "Have you always lived in that mansion?"

The Fellow immediately looks tense and walks faster, the muffled sound of metal scraping together comes from them as Logan has to jog to catch up to them.

"Wait, I'm sorry!" Logan tries to amend. "I won't ask any questions, we can walk quietly."

The Night Fellow shoots him a look and narrows their eyes at him, which is the first time Logan's seen that their eyes haven't been completely wide open. He wants to ask if they need to blink, if their eyes are mechanical or flesh, how well can they see-

But he keeps his mouth shut and the Fellow slows their pace again for him which at least confirms that they do seem to understand him to some level.

Logan has so many questions ringing in his head as he watches them from the corner of his eye.

What are they? Did their mechanical parts need upkeep? What was the quiet ticking that followed them around? How much of them are flesh and how much are metal? What do they eat? Do they even need to eat? Why do they choose to live in that mansion? Why did they always go for these night walks? Is it easier for them to crawl rather than run?

Logan keeps these thoughts to himself. He instead listens to the sounds of the forest around them, animals tend to fall silent around supernatural creatures and this is no less true for the Fellow. All Logan can hear is the rubble shifting with each of their steps, the occasional strange mechanical noises that come from the being's movements, and the ticking noise that Logan theorizes much be some sort of clock they have under their robe.

The Night Fellow stays with him longer than Logan expects them too, he figured once he hit the main road that they would take off but they stay by his side(though seemingly following him more now that their off their normal path) until the first lights of town come into sight at which they stop.

Logan pauses when they do, turning to face them for a moment. "Thank you for walking with me." He offers a smile to which the Night Fellow nods, the first absolute sign that they understood him.

The teacher watches as they take a few steps away from him before dropping into a crouch, giving him one last look before they disappear past the trees and into the darkness.

There's no way Logan is letting this be his last encounter.

#sanders sides #logan sanders #virgil sanders #body horror tw #violence mention #The Night Fellow #gun mention #monster virgil #I'm also open to ideas if peeps want to see more of this

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bellaslilpapercut · 3 years

Text

Eclipse reread part 3 bewr bewr bewrrr! Covering the entire rest of the book in ONE post so buckle on in baybee:

1. Absolutely everything about chapter 15 (wager) is disgusting. To a certain extent I appreciate how successfully meyer captures how frustrating assault is as a woman, how futile it feels to fight against it. But at the same time the way she handles the aftermath is unbelievably disappointing and infuriating. Charlie doesn't get up to help his own daughter, Jake trails after Bella into the house and sticks around, there's just no relief or reflection that feels satisfying. Bella can ask where the justice is when she finds out Jake isn't aging but just ignores Charlie defending her assailant? And to some extent I get it, I've shut down after assault before to the point where it took years to recognize that some of the things that happened even were assault. But when there's a pattern within the series of men being narratively rewarded for assault and abuse and women being punished for reacting to abuse it feels like the narrative is reinforcing the status quo of women<men. I'm not stupid, I understand when a book is trying to make me uncomfortable and I don't need villains to be punished to know that they're villainous. This doesn't come across that way at all. Meyers handling of misogynistic abuse and violence lack the nuance to make me believe that she sees this violence as something to be critical of rather than something that just happens to women. And again, because it's a pattern in her writing, women getting no reprieve from gendered harm, I don't believe she's making a statement. There's just no self awareness and that's the key difference between a story like Brave New World or Lolita and Twilight.

2. Also this quote that precedes the assault is just so so frustrating:

Bella is not mean for setting boundaries! She isn't stringing you along! I would love to hit meyer in the head with a rolled up newspaper. Anyway.

3. Bella keeps saying things like "this would be annoying if it weren't so scary" in regards to having her clothes stolen by vampires that want her dead and having to lie to people around her, again because dozens of vampires want her dead. And y'know after the third time she said she would be annoyed if she weren't scared I'm just left to believe she isn't scared at all. I don't feel rising tension, the newborn army feels like a minor nuisance and even after they connect it to victoria (who still hasn't shown up at all) I'm just like...okay well get on with it then! Meyer makes bella "shudder" (I'm still tempted to make a comp of every time she shudders in this fucking book lol) instead of showing us her actual fear. I don't believe she's scared, I don't care about the "threat," and I don't believe anything bad will happen to Bella. There are Literally No Stakes here. I'm not invested in this story at all.

4. Alice is a bad friend lmfao

Girl, you're psychic you know she wanted to wear red why are you just dressing her up for your brother.

5. Okay returning to point 3 because I read chapter 17 and had an epiphany: Bella says she isn't scared for herself and I get that I do. But smeyer also hasn't shown us that she's selfless- just that she doesn't care if she dies. If bella actually cared for her human friends, in any way, I would believe that the newborn army was a scary threat because the people she loves might get hurt. But I don't believe that she cares about that I only believe that she- like Edward- has a weird martyr complex.

6. The Mirror chapter also reinforces this. I can’t stop thinking about how much more impactful it would have been narratively if it had been Angela in Bree’s position (because she’s the only human friend Bella seems fond of but if Bella showed interest in any of the other humans, honestly any of them would do). Imagine the moment where the newborn vampire first lifts her head to look into Bella’s eyes and it’s someone she knows. Someone she cares for. There should have been consequences for Bella beyond “Jake got some bones broken and now I feel bad :(” which was also a shitty punishment because smeyer is inflicting physical trauma on an indigenous character just to make Bella feel bad. Okay. Anyway, it would have built the tension I was missing for- quite literally- over 300 pages of this book if Bella’s friends and classmates and Fork’s residents had been going missing the whole time. Suddenly, at the end of the battle, there’s Angela. Or Jess. Or Katie fucking Marshall. Someone Bella knew should have been there and maybe I would have cared about this book at all.

7. Going back in time to this quote which comes before the battle:

UGH!!! SHUT UP SMEYER! She literally poisoned Jake’s character from the moment she made him a main character and she has zero self reflection to see the damage that she’s causing here. I’ve said before that I don’t think Jake’s actions were a romantic deal breaker and that stands out now more than ever after reading Eclipse. THIS is the moment that Bella realizes she’s in love with Jake too. Smeyer not only sees abuse and aggression as romantic, she also lacks the braincells and reflection to see that she’s playing directly into racist stereotypes. Edward got to grow up- marginally- but Jake had to remain aggressive. I still don’t think she ever once meant to villify Jake- I think that there was no way in a hell a racist woman could ever successfully portray an indigenous character. His tenderness is tainted by the aggression she forces on his character and in the end he never had a chance because- again- he was being written by a racist woman with fucked up views of indigenous people.

8. Okay, I get it. They’re like Cathy and Heathcliff. Fine. I buy it.

This isn’t even the last time she compares them to Cathy and Heathcliff. Kate Bush isn’t gonna write a song about you, meyer! Give it a rest! (Also lol at “like wuthering heights”)

9. Jumping right to the end here because to be completely honest the only actual event in the entire book was the newborn battle. Jane was a bitch, fine. Edward talked at Victoria and bored her to death (presumably) and the action never felt very action heavy. I knew if from the “best friend (and werewolf)” line that this book was presumably written for idiots given how little is left to the imagination at any given time. I can’t stand when books treat the audience like dummies and I especially can’t handle YA books that do this. Teenagers aren’t stupid!! Young adults can pick up on subtlety in literature!! AND young adults can handle suspense and action. smeyer doesn’t do either well and the editors never once said “hey you know teens aren’t stupid right? like your audience will pick up on hints that you scatter you don’t have to forcefully explain everything?”

10. Smeyer can’t stop interrupting herself even in the very last sentence of the book proper:

What, pray tell, is wrong with “Where it would stay for the rest of eternity.” Why did you have to sow doubt in the sentiment right after Bella made her For Real Final Decision???? And why the em-dash!? Again: the editors of the twilight saga are my nemeses but also my favorite conmen. What were they paid for?

11. Back to the editors real quick: if i was given a draft of eclipse I would instantly say: this story is almost 400 pages of nothing, you need to play with the structure of the story. You need to build suspense and if that means playing with POV like you randomly start doing in the epilogue, then do that. Or you can play with the plot. Nothing happens for 300 pages. It takes 300 pages to get to the newborn battle and nothing that happens before the newborn battle makes me feel worried about it. Again, kill off some humans, raise the stakes, do SOMETHING. This was so painfully slow to read because meyer tried to center this book on a love triangle that I didn’t even believe in myself. And even then, it took 14 chapters for the love triangle to get real action (as in an Event, not necessarily physical action).

12. The epilogue. Oh man. Was the r-slur really so acceptable in 2007 that not one single editor questioned its use? I won’t type the quote in full but Jake refers to his fake arm sling as r-word. Like??? What? And THEN smeyer has him call Leah a “bitter harpy.” Shut up.

In conclusion, nothing felt like a bigger waste of time than Eclipse. Genuinely, to be completely honest. Two (2) important things happened, at least in Bella’s narrative (I agree with Vinelle that the Volturi debacle was important from Carlisle’s perspective, it adds nothing to Bellas and Bella learns nothing important from it.): 1. Bella made a decision, she chose Edward. Who could have seen that coming? Whaaaat? 2. Rosalie told Bella her backstory. Not that Bella even used that to reflect on her decision to become a vampire but hey, at least it felt like an important moment. Jasper’s backstory only mattered for the newborn battle which didn’t matter at all (and it never informed his character and no one ever brings up that the confederacy was a terrible dark stain on US history (along with the rest of US history but that’s a full dissertation or two on its own)). I can’t imagine a way to improve this book as a standalone book. You could split up the plot (using that term loosely) so that New Moon and BD are both a little longer and BD a little more organized. But without completely changing the plot beats in Eclipse, its just pointless.

#eclipse reread #saga reread #long post #very very long sorry lolol

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prorevenge · 4 years

Text

Bully me for months? I'll hit you where it hurts the most, literally.

I want to preface this by saying I'm not proud of what I've done here. To the casual observer, what I did might seem like justice, but, really, I wish it didn't have to go as far as it did. I want my story to be a cautionary tale of what happens when bullying isn't taken seriously. I don't want this story to inspire you to do what I did, but as to what happens when people don't make the right choices the first time. Also, TL;DR at the bottom, the quotes aren't exact, and apologies if this seems a little all over the place. It's not easy for me to bring up stories like this, but I felt maybe I'd do some good by sharing it.

For as long as I can remember, I had a habit of bottling up my emotions. My single father is a staunch believer in traditional masculinity, including the idea that men and boys shouldn't cry. By my early to mid teens, I succumbed to this outdated idea, and accepted my fate as a quiet, stoic drone that just took orders, respected authority, and did hard work (especially manual labor.)

Enter my high school, which had a huge problem with bullying. The worst kids by far were the trashy "gangsta" kids (their words, not mine) from the inner city who targeted anybody they considered weaker than them. I was a pretty muscular 15 year old, but that didn't stop them from saying things like "Dude, you're so fat," or "Wassamatta, fattie? Lose your Twinkies on the way over?" In class, it was mostly petty annoyance: taking my pencil, sticking gum in my hair, insults. They got physical when the teachers weren't looking. Tripping me in the hall and pretending it was an accident; slamming my head against the locker, hitting me with footballs or soccer balls and saying a fake "whoops, sorry!" By themselves, it didn't seem that bad, but enough grains of sand add up to a huge pile, and, at that point, I was up to my waist in it.

Of course, the school didn't do anything about it. Teachers would either tell me "I'll take care of it," and then nothing ever changed, or I'd get something stupid like "I didn't see it. There's nothing I can do" or "You know, if I stopped class every time a kid was acting up, we'd never get anything done." Sure, and if a tree falls in the forest, it didn't make a sound because you didn't hear it. My father wasn't any help either. He'd tell me things like "there's gonna be people like that everywhere you go," or "if you're crying about this, you'll never make it in life," basically telling me to go suck it up because there are worse things out there. As a kid, I was hurt by this, but I was 15, so my self-esteem had been run over by a Combine a few times by now. For months, I just kept ignoring and waiting, hoping my teachers would keep their word about dealing with this problem. Sadly, it seemed they'd rather prioritize pep rallies and Career Aptitude Tests than do their job in keeping kids safe.

By around Spring, I'd had enough. By now, my sadness and annoyance had transmuted into boiling rage that I'd been keeping in me for far too long. If nobody was going to fight for me, I'd do it for myself, literally. I devoted the majority of my weekend to prepping for a showdown on Monday.

One of the few good things about my father is that how knowledgeable he is in self-defense. He believed it was important for a man to learn to fight, so he had me take several different kinds of martial art classes. If I was gonna fight a bully, I had to make it a proper fight. I then researched about Krav Maga, a branch of martial arts that's basically a military-style form of self defense, meant to train you how to fight if you were ever in danger "outside the arena." No rules, no balanced teams, no referees; just you and your need for survival. One of the components of Krav Maga is knowing the body's biggest "weak spots," ones that maximize the most amount of pain when hurt. Things like the groin, toes, and eyes were obvious, but you could also hit the knees, solar plexus, and even the spine. Since my classes didn't teach Krav Maga (you had to be 16 at the time,) I watched many online videos, making mental notes of the techniques used. It was almost always the same kid or group of kids that bullied me, so I already knew what they looked like, and, more importantly, where to strike.

On Monday, I waited for the next chance to come for the bullies to attack. To my surprise, they kept quiet for the most part. Maybe this was one of my lucky days where I'd actually get some work done. Then, while I was crunching for an exam during lunch, one of the bullies, a regular, spilled my water all over my textbook, and saying, "Whoops, sorry!" As he and his pals started walking away laughing, I got a good look at the back of the guy's neck. I raised my fist, aiming for the middle where I'd likely hit his spinal column.

WHAM! I knocked the guy over to the ground. That's when all Hell broke lose. His friends tried tackling me away, and I tried remembering to hit all their weak points: eyes, throat, groin, and jaw. It was fairly sloppy attempt at Krav Maga given my inexperience, and the other kids trying to fight back, but it got the effect I wanted. Of course, I didn't come out unscathed. I got punched in the jaw, a bloody nose, a bruise to the forehead, and more than a few kicks in the family jewels. The other kids noticed us fighting, with some going to get a teacher while others watched in a mix of shock and excitement. Eventually, the principal and a few other teachers pulled us apart, and sent us to the office, after our injuries were treated.

The principal talked with us individually while the assistant principal called all our parents. When it was my turn, I explained what happened. At some point, the principal said, "Why didn't you tell the teacher?" At that moment, I just snapped, somehow managing to sound even angrier than when I was fighting a few minutes ago. "I ALREADY TOLD THE DAMNED TEACHERS, LIKE A MILLION FUCKING TIMES, BUT NOBODY WAS DOING SHIT ABOUT IT! NOBODY! YOU TELL ME OVER AND OVER 'I'LL TAKE CARE OF IT, I'LL TAKE CARE OF IT,' BUT NOBODY EVER FUCKING DOES! I WOULDN'T HAVE FELT LIKE I HAD TO DO THIS OF SOMEBODY HERE ACTUALLY DID THEIR DAMNED JOB FOR ONCE!" I got an extra week of suspension for yelling.

Much to my surprise, my father was rather quiet about the whole thing. Normally, my father had the temperament of a dragon, but maybe this whole fight touched his inner "macho man" that made him go easier on me.

On the car ride home, he said calmly, but firmly, "What happened? And tell me the truth." I told him, "They wouldn't stop picking on me, so I defended myself." I waited to hear my father make some snide remark about hurt feelings, but he just said, "Were you in danger?" I paused for a moment, and said, "...Yes." I knew I was exaggerating, but maybe this could open my father's eyes to see how much I was hurting. He was quiet for a minute, and then said, "I can't judge on your situation 'cause I wasn't there, but it's in a boy's nature to be aggressive sometimes, and it sounds like those bullies were just using it for harm. I also know you well enough t'know you wouldn't lay a finger on somebody unless you felt like you had to." I nodded, holding back tears. "Next time you're ever in that kinda danger, call me. Don't wait for the teachers to fail you again. I'll give 'em Hell." I was stunned, and, once I realized what'd just happened, I smiled. That's one of the few redeeming qualities about my father. As toxic and narcissistic as he was, he was an expert on bringing vengeance to those who deserved it.

During my suspension, one of the bullies' parents wanted to press assault charges on me, but my father threatened to counter-sue the school AND the parents for letting the bullying go on for so long. Thankfully, nobody had to go to court as the bullies' credibility sank faster than the Titanic. Once word got around that I fought back to stop the bullying (rather than the strong, quiet guy going psycho,) more kids decided to come forward to the principal about their experience being bullied, too, and how they also went to the teachers for help. This included a few girls who were being sexually harassed by these kids. This was a PR nightmare for the school that left a permanent stain on their reputation among the locals. In the end, the bullies got expelled, some faced charges for sexual harassment, and I got transferred to a different high school. I guess I'm a little proud that I inspired some other troubled kids to come forward, but I really didn't like violence. I'm built for self-defense, but I don't like hurting anybody unless it's to protect those I love. I would've much preferred if teachers actually did their job, and "took care of it" before I had to.

I did get a gift certificate for summer classes in Krav Maga for my Sweet 16. Thankfully, I've never had to use it yet.

TL;DR: Bullies spend months torturing me, and teachers won't do anything, so I researched and imitated an advanced martial arts to bring maximum physical pain to my bullies.

(source) story by (/u/aitacrybaby)

#prorevenge #by /u/aitacrybaby #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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