#nick fighting the horrors yet again

[neilstouchtonetelephone]

me and my stuffed animals against the world

[adrixivy]

Imagine the Avengers have a shared album. It was an album that they all made so they can update on what they’re doing and it was all Peter’s suggestion so the team could bond more. Yet Peter changes it up one day by dumping pics of the Avengers from afar and they’re all looking up, wondering where the fuck is Peter taking the photos from.

Then Peter dumps 0.5 pics of Tony when he was sleeping or Tony simply allowed it because he was tired to say anything and it was the most ridiculously outrageous photos of Tony that Tony is immediately up from his chair in the lab and finding Peter, yelling about him deleting the photos.

Peter only does it when Tony hasn’t eaten a full meal or anything in a day or has not slept at all since he was busy overworking himself. And it always works.

Soon, the shared album that was previously about updates became a place to dump the most ridiculous photos of the Avengers or the shenanigans they do that it would be a PR nightmare for their PR team to manage(SHIELD is definitely their PR team even though Nick Fury is not paid enough for it)

Clint, dumping photos of Bucky and Steve on the couch together: *captioned ‘Look at this lovebirds!’*

Bucky checks his phone and is immediately showing Steve and the two glare at the vent at the left corner of the room where they hear distant giggles as Clint crawls away

Peter sending a photo of Tony and Stephen making out in the kitchen: *captioned ‘EW MR STARK GET A ROOM!’*

Tony pauses and pulls away from Stephen who frowns when he pulls his phone out. Tony gasped in horror and showed the phone to Stephen before spotting his son and immediately charging at him (“Peter Benjamin Parker-Stark, you get your tiny ass here right now!”) Stephen sighs and sends the cloak after his lover and son. Cloak wraps around Peter who screams for mercy and Tony grinned

Bruce sending a picture of Sam drinking a Caprisun: *Captioned ‘Peter I think that’s yours..’*

Peter suddenly appears and tackles Sam, screaming that it was his last one and the man now owns him a box. Sam is screaming back, saying ‘Get Stark to buy that, he has money!’ and the two is fighting till Steve pulls them apart

Natasha sends a photo of Clint surrounded by fire as he burns down their kitchen for the fifth time this month: *captioned ‘Guys he’s at it again’*

Tony immediately presses a button that shoots out foam that extinguishes the fire from the ceiling, covering Natasha and Clint in it. Natasha is fuming and Tony just realised he’s mistake and locked down his lab.

Rhodey sends a picture of Tony partying in his suit during that one party he did when he was dying. Tony is embarrassed of how idiotic he was. Peter is cackling before he’s immediately silenced by a glare from the older man

Tony starts to mess with Steve one day after he finds records of him in the past when he went through his father’s things. Tony sends a photo of Steve pre-super serum that he happened to find and Steve rolls his eyes and groans when Bucky laughs at him, making fun of the blonde (“The dwarf who was like ‘I can do this all day’ with a bleeding nose, HAH!”) The rest of the Avengers laugh, snicker or is genuinely surprised how skinny Steve actually was

Tony uploads a black and white video of Steve in the army in the past, seemingly forming a plan before the camera cuts to Bucky’s photo in a pocket watch as Steve checks the time. He quickly shuts the pocket watch and hides it. Bucky is slightly flustered and Steve is embarrassed. (“Tony where the hell are you getting this!”)

(⬆️Inspired by that one scene in Captain America: The First Avenger!)

I can picture Peter and Wanda sending edits of the Avengers they found on Tiktok to the album or videos they found online of the Avengers epic fails. Since they’re probably the only two who has Tiktok or scroll through social media and definitely wanted the Avengers to see this. Or simply any news that they find hilarious or the Avengers needed to know. Tony joins on the news because Friday always updates him

Wanda sending an edit of Natasha on TikTok: *Captioned ‘Look at this hot momma!’

Natasha is flattered, chuckling as she rewatches the edit and wondering where people got this clips from.

Peter sends a video titled ‘The Avengers Fails!’ which show Tony being thrown back to a signboard, Steve falling from a building with a yell, Thor being thrown back to the hulk which the hulk is angered by and he’s thrown again at a billboard, Wanda tripping over a step, Clint being dragged along in the air at the back of the Quinjet screaming, Bucky’s arm being thrown in Tony’s face, Rhodey and Tony crashing into each other, Stephen accidentally letting out an ancient monster and desperately trying to close it back up and finally Natasha’s gun being slapped away by a giant when she shoots it. The Avengers are immediately embarrassed and Friday plays the video to get their egos in check once a month. Peter has multiple compilations of fails online so he isn’t embarrassed. He believes it’s part of his spidey persona so he embraces it with open arms. The Avengers find it impossible to embarrass him when he’s Spiderman.

Tony sends an online magazine, specifically one page where it’s all about Steve. And his magnificent ‘America’s Ass’. Steve sighs and knows Tony has something to do with the magazine when he actually doesn’t. Bucky secretly downloads the page

[jinuaei]

Perception

Yandere!Self aware! Leon Kennedy x Player! Reader pt. 2

To be the person whose deity's eyes are cast upon is a bliss. This is what Leon feels, bliss. The slow descent to madness from being in this unholy situation is overwhelmed by your presence, your guidance and warmth suppressing the fear and stress. Truth be told he has not been paying attention to whatever Marvin is talking about but thats fine, you'll pay attention for him right?

He can feel himself flush, his insides burning hot with embarrassment and horror, though on the outside no splash of red can be seen on his cheeks. How dare he assign work to you when he is the one who is supposed to be doing everything? He is but your humble servant, he is the one who should be doing the task of listening to this boring police man, not you!

Leon quickly snaps back reality and luckily was able to catch where the emblems are located. Noting it down mentally, he descends to the western wing of the station after receiving a knife from Marvin. Progressing through the halls he thinks back to earlier when he was still trying to fight against your influence, he truly was an idiot. But he was still happy that he submitted to you sooner, rather than later.

A sudden crash of glass breaking pierce through his left ear, a groan following after. Leons body freezes up and a strong feeling of panic rattles his brain. He shot the corpse on the head within a second, blowing it up in pieces. The panic still flows through his brain but not the rest of him, on the contrary his whole body is calm but his mind isn't. As he tries to understand why the fear he is feeling is strange he soon realized that… It's not mine. I'm not scared, THEY are.

Hot rage courses through his veins as he glares at the lump of meat underneath him, his fingers itching to grab the leather grip of the knife and stab it. Again. And again. And again. How dare that thing scare you? Nonetheless, Leon can't do anything but just seethe quietly. After a while, he can feel the panic subside and his body jerks towards the stairs, walking cautiously. Nothing much happened after that, other than the licker almost nicking him, it was a very quiet journey. Going back to Marvin, the older man showed him the cctv footage of a girl outside, recognizing her as his companion from earlier. He felt relief upon knowing that she was safe from harm. He was then directed to the 2nd floor of the east wing where he'll be able to get her that way.

As he exits the doorway to the side extrance of the station a shout from below him captured his attention. Looking over the rails, the red jacket highlighted her form, of course it was--

"Claire!"

Joyfully he walks down the stairs, but as soon as he takes a step your warmth is gone from his body. Why…why can't he feel you inside him? Did you abandon him?? No no no… You're still there, he can feel your eyes gazing onto him but his body can only percieve the coldness of the night.

Even with his inner turmoil the show must go on. Without his permission his body moves perfectly, their conversation flowing so smoothly it was almost like following a script. However he knows that whatever is happening is unnatural, the smile he gives to Claire seems robotic, he tries to take control with his body but the only thing that he manages to do was to smile awkwardly, a brief flash of fear in his eyes. Even if Claire did notice she didn't say anything, just talking like normal.

Tuning back to their conversation he can hear himself speak.

"That's good. Any luck with your brother?"

"No, not yet."

He tuned everything out again because he felt disgusted being controlled by something other than you. Soon an explosion interrupts both of them, the sound of groans soon following. They look at each other with understanding and separated ways. Within a second, your warmth encompass his body and fill him with new vigor, the bliss returning as he realizes your departure was only temporary. Then his thoughts became more dark and more desperate.

The feeling of losing you, even temporary was heartbreaking. Him sensing you but not able to touch you was torture. But…he will bear with it, as long as you come back to him. So please, don't ever leave him again.

[sublimeinal-messages]

OKAY OKAY SO THE TRAILER’s DROPPED AND WHILE IM SO BEYOND PSYCHED TO SEE EVERYONE I HAVE SOME OBSERVATIONS. (With pictures). Apologies for the long post lol

First off:

Powers confirmed coming back for everyone!

Five is teleporting, Viktor’s powered up, Ben’s got the horror, Luther has his muscles again

Speaking of Luther, he seems to be all over the place. In some shots he has his muscles, in some he doesn’t, in one shot he’s donning spacegear, another he’s in a ballpit, and they even make him sit in the back of the van for old time’s sake

No Sloane tho?? No sparrows at all as far as I can tell :| idk how to feel about that

Another little detail I noticed was when they all pile in the van together, Lila calls shotgun and is promptly shoved aside by Five out of sheer pettiness. And then she has to sit in the middle

They seem to have a bonding moment in the subway with Lila sobbing as Five holds onto her, which I’m very curious about (and scared)

Diego’s shown at a birthday party taking care of a little girl!! With braids! Possibly their daughter? Talk of a rescue mission makes me think their daughter might be kidnapped

Allison shown with a kid also has me thinking Claire returns which makes me so happy

Allison also doesn’t seem to be shot in a villainous or shunned light, so it looks like this season isn’t intent on bashing her (yet. As far as I can see, which honestly thank goodness…)

The dark circles under Ben’s eyes worry me, almost as much as the shot of him in prison(?) and him seemingly being out of sync with the others. Is this Sparrow Ben perhaps? Does it have anything to do with the possibility of there being another Ben? (Maybe he’s accused of identity theft?)

There’s also Another Tentacle in the promo image shared yesterday which I noticed. Maybe a second horror?

I thought maybe it had something to do with Jennifer since there’s been an actor hired for a character with that name, but now I wonder with the two Bens situation…

Reginald might have his Umbrella academy in the woods again? aligning with the comics. Unless this is someone else’s house. But the windows and white brick match.

Really curious how the academy has been rebranded in this universe to be a house for boys. Six, specifically. Seeing as how Allison is the only umbrella-born girl, it’s interesting to see how this universe has shifted to accommodate them all

Viktor might be a bartender?? The area looked familiar but it could just be my eyes. But apart from his Direct Interview with Reginald, (oooh scary) he seems to get in a physical fight with someone. Which is a new approach for him as a characater

Forgive my shitty captures but if it’s not Luther, diego, klaus or five I’m guessing it must be Ben?? But it’s hard to say, but he sure is going at it tho

Who are the square dancers??? My heart wants it to be jayme and Alphonso but the people here look older to me, so it could be Nick Offerman and Megan Mullalley.

Actually upon inspection the fuzzy square dancer has a matching beard pattern to Nick offerman Exactly. So that’s absolutely him.

Klaus really seems to be struggling again, and has those plastic gloves in almost every shot I see. Him dressing dark and drab also says something about his state of mind as well as the panic attack he seems to have :( but at least they’re all back together 🥲

Looks like they also seem to celebrate Christmas together? And a birthday. Honestly I’m just so happy to see them together for events like this I love these dysfunctional dorks so much

There’s so many more things I’m sure I missed and I’ll be rewatching this a few more times until the season drops (three months!!) but in the wise words of Diego: Let’s Fucking GOOOOOOOO I’m so excited for this. HELL YEAH, THE UMBRELLAS BACK TOGETHER AGAIN BAYBEEE

[epic-kotlc-crossover]

Survive

This is the second chapter of the Cyclops saga!! Hope you enjoy :)

(or cry. i did when I read this.) -cricket

Tags: @myfairkatiecat @ham-cheese-toastie @bookwormgirl123 @thesfromhms @justalunaticfangirl (let us know if you want to be tagged in the future!)

Fitz hadn't had his adrenaline so high in ages. He'd fought in a war, but this felt more... real. Instead of a bunch of people trying to kill each other—over a woman, even—he and his men were fighting against a cyclops.

A real life, hungry, cyclops.

"The rest of our crew wait for us!" Fitz roared out over the commotion. "If we get killed, they're as good as dead."

He lifted up his sword to the cheers of his men. "How great is your will to survive?"

600 lives to save. No backup. Fitz thought, narrowing his eyes and trying to think of a way to defeat the cyclops. I only have to kill him.

At the word "kill" he faltered, thinking of the infant. If he kept taking lives, how long would it take for him to become a monster?

This is different, Fitz reminded himself. But... instead of killing, maybe we can just maim him a little.

He reminded himself to reach out to Sophie as soon as this was over. She always helped.

Anyway.

"Don't die on me now, not when we're so close to coming home!" He charged forward, and managed to nick the cyclops on the leg, eliciting a howl. Fitz grinned, satisfied.

"Surround him!" The chorus of soldiers cried out. "Attack him from behind!" As they constantly stabbed and slashed at the cyclops, Fits was scanning for any way to take Polyphemus out.

He came up empty every time, and soon the thrum of frustration set in. Blood was flying everywhere, and he saw with grim satisfaction that the source of most of it was the cyclops.

"How great is your will to survive?" Fitz didn't know who said that, but it reminded him of why he was trying to survive.

Sophie.

Marella.

Ithaca.

Stay in his blindspot! Strike his heels! Fitz transmitted out the orders.

He's strong, but he's slow, he thought to himself. How could they use that to their advantage?

"No dying on me now!" He yelled. "We just need to take one life and we're free!"

He must've jinxed it.

A scream pierced the air, and Fits instantly realized that it wasn't the roars of Polyphemus that he'd been hearing for the past minutes.

No, he realized in horror, it was one of his men.

"He's got a club!"

That was....Dex. No. No, no no, no. Not Dex.

"He's got a club!" Someone screamed again.

"Captian, what are our orders?" Keefe asked urgently.

"Captian?"

"Captain!?" That was Dex. Fitz rushed over to where his friend lay on the trampled grass. Dex looked like he'd been stepped on, which he actually might've.... His torso was bleeding from several gashes, and his legs were totally crushed.

"Dex..." Fitz started, tears burning in his eyes

"Captian--" he said, then coughed, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. "Please don't forget to--" he coughed a little more-- "greet the world with open arms. For me?" Dex pleaded.

Fitz nodded shakily.

Dex's chest fell still.

Fitz vaguely registered tears streaming down his cheeks as he stared at his best friend.

Dex was dead.

Six people were dead.

He was snapped out of his trance as another one of his men yelled for him. Seven. Sven people died under his command. He stood up, shifting his sword around his hand. The cyclops was going to pay.

Only, before he could do anything, Polyphemus collapsed, a cloud of dust rising from where he lay.

Fitz grinned sadly. He'd forgotten about the lotus flowers in the wine. At least not too many people had died, yet.

We have to do what it takes to survive.

[runningincircl3s]

Nothing Ever After

Noah Sebastian x Reader x Vinny Mauro

Chapter 3

chapter warnings: very very extremely brief mention of masturbation

i'm going to be posting chapter 4 with this one as they're both pretty short :) happy friday guys!!

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

As you stepped out of the shower, you reached for a towel from their usual place but much to your horror, there were none to be found. You panicked for a moment, wondering what to do. You knocked on the bathroom door and called out for Noah but there was no reply, so you called him instead, thanking whatever forces above that you brought your phone in the bathroom with you. 

“Is everything okay?” He asked from the kitchen as he answered the phone. 

“No, uh… there’s no towels in here-”

“Oh shit! They were the ones I brought down to the pool. Give me two seconds, I'll be right there.” 

“Thank you.” You laughed at the situation and stood awkwardly as you waited for Noah to return. 

“Y/n?” He asked, knocking on the door. 

You slowly opened the door, reaching your hand out as Noah passed you the towels. 

“Thank you!” You quickly wrapped one around you and your hair with the other before taking your phone and clothes and leaving the bathroom. 

You awkwardly walked past Noah in silence as he sat on his bed, pretending to be scrolling on his phone yet you felt his eyes on you before you walked straight to your room. 

Whilst you were getting dressed you had time to reflect on what happened in the pool, and one moment in particular kept replaying over and over again.

“You look so pretty like this”

The tone of voice he spoke in sent shivers through your body. You wanted to scream into your pillow, but you held it together. You were so close to kissing him until Folio announced that Nicholas had arrived. Would he have actually kissed you or would he have pulled away? Would it have gone any further?

You needed to talk to him, that was for sure. But first you needed to finish getting dressed. 

You slipped on an old oversized bad omens shirt that you stole from Bryan and a pair of old sleep shorts that were a little tight. You braided your hair and hyped yourself up to go downstairs where you knew Noah would be cooking dinner, as it had just gone 6pm.

As you walked down the stairs you spotted the two Nicks, who were in the middle of a rather heated debate. 

“Y/n! Who do you think would win, one horse sized duck or 20 duck sized horses?” Folio asked as you passed them. 

“If we’re talking about a cuteness battle then definitely the duck sized horses, but if it’s in a fight then I don’t know… the duck?” 

“Exactly!” Folio shouted to the Nicholas, and he continued to rant, his voice fading as you walked into the kitchen. 

“What are you making?” You asked, standing by the island, leaning slightly over it. 

“Well, it’s Italian night, so…” Noah reached into the oven to pull out a dish, “I’ve made lasagne.” 

“Ooh, yum!” You smiled, “any garlic bread?” 

“Yes, I wasn't sure if you'd want any so I made sure to get some extra just in case.” 

“Thanks,” you sighed, stepping closer to him, “look, Noah, I think we need to-”

“Noah!” Folio shouted, “Who do you think would win…”

“Nick, what? I cant hear you- Sorry, I’ll go see what he wants.” 

You threw your head back and groaned in annoyance. You’d worked up the courage to talk to him and he just walked away. You sighed once more and looked at the lasagne Noah had cooked, he'd done a pretty good job.

“Sorry, what were you gonna say?” Noah asked as he took back his place in the kitchen. 

“Nothing. I just needed to get a drink.” You mumble, grabbing a pepsi from the fridge. 

“Oh, okay. Can you tell the guys that dinner is almost done?”

“Sure.” You said, walking back into the living room, “Noah said dinners almost done.” You said as you sat next to Ruffilo, who was now on his phone, now attempting to ignore Nick. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It was the middle of the night and you just could not sleep. The moment between you and Noah in the pool had been playing back in your mind as you tossed and turned in your bed. You reached over for your water and realised it was empty. 

Sighing, you kicked your feet out of the sheets and got up, using your phone as a flashlight as you made your way down the stairs. 

You made sure to be as quiet as possible as Nick and Nick were both asleep, snoring on the couch. However, when you reached the kitchen, to your surprise you weren’t alone. 

“Oh, hey.” You said to Noah as you got another bottle of water from the fridge. 

“Can’t sleep either?” He asked, and you shook your head. “What’s up?”

“I think I’m just nervous that’s all,” you lied, “about tour…”

“Understandable.” He said, “I forgot to mention our flights changed. We’ll be leaving tomorrow evening, but like I said last week, you’ll be perfectly fine, I’ve got you, okay? Bryan won’t let you overwork yourself or anything. We’ll make sure you have the best time.” He smiled in the dimly lit kitchen, the only light was coming from the torches on your phones which were placed upside down on the counter.

“Oh… Okay… Why can’t you sleep?” You asked. 

“A bit of everything really,” he admitted, “look, I’m sorry about earlier, in the pool. I shouldn’t have-”

“No, don’t apologise.” You tell him, “if this is about the almost kiss then I wouldn’t have stopped you… It felt right.”

“I was talking about dragging you into the pool with me, when you were shouting for me to stop,” he said, a slight smirk on his lips, “what, are you saying you wanted to kiss me?”

“Oh… well, in that case, don’t worry. I wanted to get in anyway.” 

“Y/n.” 

“What?” 

“Don't ignore me, I asked you a question.” 

This man would be the death of you. 

“Well, in the moment I did, yeah.” You say, you wouldn’t dare look at him right now. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Noah, shut up before I post a picture of you on twitter.”

“Go ahead,” he said, his voice dropping an octave or two as he started walking closer to you, “I know your accounts are private.” 

“Well in that case I’ll-” 

You couldn’t finish your rant as Noah had closed the space between the two of you, and his lips pressed against yours. It caught you totally off guard, there felt like there were fireworks in your stomach as you kissed him back, nothing had ever felt so right before. 

His hands moved to your waist, as one of yours found the side of his neck, the other on his chest. Just as you thought he was going to deepen the kiss, maybe even slip his tongue in, he pulled away. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that.” He confessed, smiling as he pressed his forehead against yours. "But we better get some sleep, we've got a lot of travelling coming up."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“What the fuck, how did you forget to pack?!” Bryan raked his fingers through his hair as he stood by your bedroom door, watching you rush around to throw everything you needed into your suitcase. 

“Well, maybe because Noah only thought to mention the flight’s been changed when I went downstairs to get some water in the night? Could’ve been nice to let me know beforehand!” To say you were stressed was an understatement, you checked the drawers and closet to make sure you hadn't left any behind.

“Sorry, I should’ve told you when I found out, I just assumed Noah told you.” 

“Well you assumed wrong!” You sighed, sitting down on your unmade bed, “Sorry, Bry. I shouldn’t take it out on you. I’ve never been so stressed before in my entire life, I hate flying and I’m kinda nervous to meet the other guys that are coming with us on tour.”

"There's nothing to worry about, y/n, I promise. The guys in Motionless are some of the nicest people I've ever met, you'll get along with them just fine, and the flight's not too long. Don't tell him I said this but Noah gets nervous when flying too, you guys can sit together and hyperventilate during turbulence together!"

"Bryan it's not funny! What if we crash, then who'll be laughing?!

“Sorry,” he laughed, “but seriously, you'll be fine. I’ll leave you to pack, y/n, I’m gonna see if the guys need any help downstairs if you need me.” 

“Okay, thanks Bry.” You smiled, shoving a pile of clothes that were sat on the floor into your suitcase as he left the room. 

It was only a matter of hours until you’d leave for the airport and there was so much whizzing around your brain. First was the kiss in the early hours of this morning, and then the fact that Noah said he’d been wanting to do it for a long time. You also feared you'd leave something important behind, and you worried about being on the plane- it was just all too much. You needed a distraction, but as you searched through your bags, you realised you'd left your vibrator at home. Just great!

In the meantime, you pushed all your thoughts to the back of your mind and focused on packing your equipment. You got your camera out yesterday and shot some pictures of Nick, Matt, Jolly and Noah by the pool which turned out pretty good.

The time seemed to fly by, and before you knew it you were saying goodbye to the room Noah had let you stay in. However, you’d be glad there would be no more late night trips to Noah’s room to use the bathroom.

There was one night in particular where you thought you could hear groaning from the other side of the door so you hesitated before knocking. He was silent for a moment before he called out to let you know you could come in. You couldn’t switch your brain off for the rest of the night, your mind going to the depths of hell as you thought about the man in the next room. However, after letting your hand slip under your panties, you finally switched off and after finishing, you were out for the night. 

“Everyone ready?” Matt shouted out as everyone was rushing about, making sure they weren’t forgetting anything. 

“Can someone help me?” You asked from the top of the stairs, trying to take both your suitcase and camera equipment down the stairs, along with your handbag, phone and coffee mug. 

“Course!” Folio smiled, coming up the stairs to help you, “Did we manage to get seats together on the plane this time?” He asked, shouting down the stairs to Matt, whose phone began to ring.  

“Folio, it’s your lucky day... We’re all sat together this time.” Matt said, before answering the phone. 

“What, were you guys sitting separately last time?” You asked as you followed Nick down the stairs. 

“Yeah, it was awful! I was sat next to some guy who wouldn’t stop sneezing and then I just so happened to be sick the entire tour, the guy Jolly was sat next to kept falling asleep on his shoulder-” 

“And the lady I was sat next to kept trying to set me up with her daughter.” Noah laughed, “But that’s not the worst of it, was it Nick?” 

“Huh?” Nicholas popped his head up, he was busy loading up the bus to travel to the airport. 

“Tell y/n about our last flight to Europe.” 

“I was sat next to this old lady who took one look at me and then naturally assumed I was the devil,” Ruffilo explained, and the others laughed. 

“But you’re an angel!” You frowned, “and that was to Europe?” 

“London,” Matt butted in, “a 10 hour flight and I was sitting next to a screaming baby. 10 hours, y/n. It had me reconsidering my whole life.” 

“Wow that must’ve been rough… hopefully it’s not like that this time.” 

“Nah, it’s only a 3 hour flight this time and we’re all sat together. There’s no way it can be any worse.” 

“We’re off to Texas, right?” You asked, and Noah nodded. 

“We play our first show there in three days, so we’ll land, get to our hotel and chill for a bit before we go to start setting everything up.” 

“Great.” You smiled, feeling all your nerves fade away into pure excitement. It was all starting to feel so real now.

Everyone started to get into the bus now, so you took one last look at Noah’s house before getting in with them. You sat in between the two Nicks, or as Noah called it a Nick sandwich. However, as Matt started driving away, Bryan called out,

“Matt, where are you going? We still have to pick up Jolly!” 

————————————

bad omens drama will never stop me from posting on tumblr dot com sorry guys you’re stuck with me!

@rumoured-whispers @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @lma1986 @thisbicc @dominuslunae @miss570 @miamore0570 @jilliemiw86

[awingedinsect]

-Flood me like Atlantic-

Chapter 5

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: description of drowning, de@th, kind of horror honestly, language, bl00d, cutting, bondage, crying, just the general craziness consume with caution!!

He’s sinking deeper, deeper than he knew he could go. The water burns his skin, freezing his muscles. He couldn’t swim if he tried.

There is no light at the top. No sign that the world is anything but pure, endless blackness. And it’s in this place, in the deepest part of hopelessness, that his eyes open.

His arms reach upwards, groping for the surface he’s not sure is real. But they’re jerked down almost immediately, wrapped in pieces of the deep that suck and coil around his wrists.

He flails violently as he’s dragged deeper still, cold water cutting into his arms like ice. He’s choked as whatever it is wraps around his neck, forcing him to look up at a chiding whisper of light. He yearns for it. He lunges for it.

But it’s not his to have.

“Shhh, Vessel.”

There’s a cold hand on his throat, nails raking slowly up his face to knot in his hair. “Calm down.”

His eyes shoot open, chest heaving like a scared rabbit as the scene floods in around him; the sky above, pitch black with the pale moon cutting through the trees to illuminate three figures. The backup singer is bowed over him, synching the knots tethering his ankles to the fallen tree. A shaky beam illuminates the face of the guitar player, bouncing off the pages of a book balanced in his hand as his mouth forms around silent words.

And then there’s Venus.

Vessel’s throat knots as he looks up at her, eyes searching her face for a sign that he isn’t about to die.

“What are you doing to me?” He asks with a wet, wobbly voice. His lungs are still full of the Atlantic.

“Something I have to do.” She says, swiping her thumb beneath his lashes. She’s bending over him, her eyes illuminated with a light of their own as the moon cuts around her form. “You’re the last piece of a puzzle, and I’m sorry I gotta do this to ya.”

Vessel's head is swimming, and he knows it’s still full of whatever the girl slipped into his drink. But for the first time in a while, he doesn’t question if this is a dream. He knows this is something too much like his vision; something his mind was preparing him for. And yet he fights it, groaning as he strains against the bonds on his wrists keeping his arms outstretched across the ancient branches.

A finger presses his snarling lips, silencing him. “Stop.”

Her nail traces the line of his mouth, pressing a mark into his lower lip until the tiniest trickle of blood slips inside his mouth. He groans again, this time in surrender.

He’s helpless anyway.

“I call upon Sleep,” comes a voice down by his feet. Vessel cranes his neck to watch the guitar player, swiping his dreadlocks out of his face with the end of his flashlight. His eyes skirt reverently over the worn pages of the book as the other member rises and faces the moon.

“…To enter this place, now.”

“What the fuck?” Vessel bites, sputtering on the blood trickling into his mouth. The blackness seeps into the gaps of his teeth as they grit up at Venus. “What the fuck do you people serve?”

“Worship, baby.” She corrects. And suddenly there’s a knife in her hands, climbing up against his pale neck as it bobs. “We worship Sleep. And in turn, they’re gonna make us the biggest sensation the world has ever seen. Bigger than you’ve ever dreamed of, sitting there in your little room, all alone with that keyboard…”

The blade nips at the neck of his hoodie, popping the threads apart delicately until there’s a sizable slash cutting down the front. She starts to drag deeper, nicking his heaving chest as she goes while he shakes and hisses, trying to level his breathing. He can’t take this. He can’t take this.

The torn fabric finally falls down his sides to reveal his broad chest and lean torso, now decorated with a thin line spreading its veins in the dips of his stomach. And suddenly she straddles, snake bites and teeth glimmering as she plants a hand on his shoulder and the knife at his neck.

“Sleep feeds on the music.” She whispers, bending low. “And you, pretty baby, are an offering.”

He’s sobbing now. There’s not much else he can do, besides beg for his life. And the attempts he makes tumble like meaningless stones off his trembling lips. His eyes are wide, but he doesn’t see anything. The night is cold, but his exposed flesh feels dead and foreign. He’s empty. But there’s something else, something stronger than him. And he can feel it in his mouth.

“Be careful.” He rumbles, eyes slipping shut. “Or you’re going to die.”

There’s a spark of fear in Venus’s eyes. Something she can’t hide, no matter how powerful she looks on top of him, the knife clasped tight in her fist.

She smiles.

“We’re gonna do this ritual.” She tells him, her voice steady. “And once you’re dead, we’re gonna burn your body over on that pile of rubble, and bury you with the rest of them. You know, they wouldn’t even be dead if you had just stayed put. Just stayed there with me like a good bitch while I got my hands around your neck.”

The wind is picking up. The voice of the guitarist rises, filling the forest with a language that sounds older than even the trees. Vessel arches off the bark cutting into his spine, a scream rising in his throat as the blade carves into his chest.

“Something tells me you’d like it, anyway.” She hums, eyes trailing the blood as it wells in the hollow of his neck. “But this time… I’m gonna make you sing first.”

Suddenly the wind becomes a hurricane and the forest goes black. Not even the moon can watch as everything that’s real is whipped up in a sea of leaves and screams, Vessel paralyzed as even his own crying is sucked from his lips. His mouth fills with something horrid and flaky, flooding his nose with smoke and choking him as he tries to scramble free in the chaos.

There’s ash in his mouth.

He feels manicured fingers claw into his chest as they’re dragged away, his hips free of the girl’s weight. And then it happens; a magnificent blaze of red, flooding the skeletal trees with a light too bright to look at.

And then, just as quick as it came, it’s gone.

Vessel’s body trembles uncontrollably as he picks up his head, blinking the ash out of his eyes. He’s alone, except for the wind and the plumes of black flakes twisting all around him. It’s not just what’s left of the trees- it’s the Blacklit Room, and his clothes, and owners of the screams still dying out in the roar.

“You are mine.” Comes a voice from the nothingness, bringing Vessel to his hands and knees as he falls off the tree. The bonds have flaked off his wrists, leaving only stripes where the ash hasn’t painted him black.

“And you will not be like them. I have chosen you, lost thing. And I will raise you in the dark.”

Vessel claws at the ground, trying to find a singular piece of himself to raise up and give to his savior. But there’s nothing. And all he can do is wrap his trembling arms around himself, head bowed as his hands spider across his own bloody ribs. He reaches for the voice weakly.

“Did you kill them?” He asks quietly, finding his vision difficult to maintain. He closes his mouth, lips thin and smudged black, though barely trembling now. There’s a home he lost in the voice- in the dark. And he just now remembers it.

“We killed them.” The darkness whispers. “I, Sleep, and you, my Vessel.”

He nods drunkenly, his chest spilling a few more sobs. Yes. He killed them.

“I will give you what they wanted. Fame. Adoration. Protection. And in turn, you will be my voice.”

“Your voice?” Vessel asks, looking up. The wind is dying now, debris settling thick on the ground. The moon is starting the glare down at him again, interested to watch as a weak, unshielded human fumbles forward for shelter in a god who appears to him in the silence of the hillside.

There is no reply. And so, there are no more questions he needs to ask. The forest goes quiet again.

Vessel stumbles to his feet, looking around half-blind and trying to gather his breath back into his lungs. He feels strangely fine, though the euphoria of the moment is fading a little faster than he can take it.

A car zooms by on the nearby road and he startles, trying to remember for a minute where the fuck he his and why the fuck he just pledged his allegiance to a diety he’s never even heard of before.

He’s always been an atheist, up till now. Or at least within the last decade of his life. But then again, he’s always been a regular man, with one bed or another to lie on, a love for music, the need to pay his bills… not a nearly-sacrificed shell of a person, stumbling naked around the woods covered in ash and blood without anywhere to go. He feels hollow. And now that the adrenaline is fading, he notices the drugs starting to drag his mind back to a place he’s too helpless to be alone in.

He’s weaker than he’s ever been, leaning on trees and leaving a trail of sticky black drops on the leaves behind him. He’s lost more blood than he knows. And yet he goes on, straight into the woods without direction or purpose until he finds a gravel path crunching under his bare feet.

He follows it. And to wherever or whoever it leads, he hopes there’s a damn drink of water.

[talesandasksfromthewvba]

Ah hey look! It’s the Bruiser brothers themselves, Rick and Nick!

And, we just so happen to have an origin story for them! Just what are these two hiding from us anyway?

Read below to find out!

((Keep in mind that this is sort of a weird one, but hopefully you’ll get used to it 😭. Also CW for body horror imagery)) -Dex

Ok so, you know that we basically don’t know how old nor where the Bruiser brothers are from right? Why is this such a mystery? It’s been bothering me for years now...

Well I have a proposition... now here me out.... they were created in a lab.

So there were these group of scientist that decided to come together to create the perfect fighter. Through some agreements, they collected DNA samples from all kinds of boxers that were considered the best of the best: the most lean, tall, strong etc.

It took some years to figure out, but they managed to make their first prototype: Rick Bruiser.

The scientist first helped out Rick by teaching him with basic life skills (you know, like talking, eating etc). When he mastered them, they immediately put the gloves on him to start training. The results and analytics were showing up with “alright” scores, but not what the group was looking for. Also not to mention, Rick started to develop his own charming personality, which the scientist were pleased and quite proud of as it makes him more human like, but they also thought that this was hindering his fighting style (for some reason).

So by taking Rick’s DNA and changing up some formations, they made a second version of Rick, and by technicality his brother, Rick Brusier.

Nick was more emotionally detached than Rick, which was done on purpose. As they went through the same learning process with Nick, they tested out his fighting expertise. The testers were much more pleased with Nick’s outcome and decided to focus their testing and work on him, leaving Rick in the dust almost. He sort of grew jealous due to this, but still wanted to at least work out a brotherly bond with his new kin.

As time passed, they applied Nick to all kinds of boxing matches. From left to right, he about won just about every match he was in. It was almost non-stop fighting and match-ups. Due to this however, Nick started to feel a bit... off. But he never reported it nor brought it up because he really didn’t want to mess up his streak.

Then the time came for Nick to work his way up in the W.V.B.A. to get that champion belt. Nick’s first opponent was obviously the glass jaw himself: Glass Joe.

The poor Frenchman thought that this was just another match where he gets horribly beat up by yet another big and burly boxer. So the match starts with a ding, and goes off smoothly at first. Nick is quite the excellent fighter and Joe knows this. But something was about to happen that would shock everyone and the world of boxing in general.

Lots of dodging and punching, the first being done by Nick and Joe unfortunately getting the latter. “Whatever.” He thought to himself. “Let’s get this over with.”.

Keep in mind that this is around the time when Joe was starting to get one of the worse records in W.V.B.A history, so he was a laughing stock to the crowd. And to be honest, most people buy tickets to Glass Joe’s fights now just to see his face get beat in. It’s basically like a sick comedy to them.

But with this in mind, Maybe he can perhaps get at least one punch in? This could not only catch the audience off guard, but also he can at least get some kind of good press for this effort. It’ll at least be a good coffee read in the morning, so why not?

So with a lot of focus and managing to get a split second opening, Joe did the best punch he could.

A big old “POW” if you will.

This catches Nick off guard as well as the crowd. After a few moments of silent the crowd starts to cheer. Joe starts to feel a kick of euphoria in his body after what just happened. He felt like could do it again!

Nick however, after the punch, starts to get that same off feeling from before, but it was more noticeable. His arm... also felt weird. But he brushed it off and continues to fight.

More back and forth arm swinging happens and Joe gets yet another punch in as Nick blocks it. Yet another “POW” could be heard from the impact. The crowd starts to get louder with cheers and jeers going everywhere. But after a few seconds, something oh so horrible happens that will stay in the minds of whoever was attending that faithful night.

Nick’s arm starts to fall apart.

Gasps and screams started to erupt from the stadium. Joe quickly back off after realizing what in the world was happening. He couldn’t believe what was happening in front of him. All he could do his cover his mouth and stare in shock at the absolute horror show he was witnessing.

Nick didn’t even know what to do. What the hell was happening to him? Why didn’t those damn blockheads tell him about this?

The rotting started to get worse as his whole arm was basically gone. It started to now slowly go up his neck and that’s when Nick basically “passed” out. The doctors and ref started rush over Nick Bruiser to try and get him to a hospital. The crowd was trying to get up close to the ring to see the freak accident they just witnessed.

But by default, Joe won the match. His first win. This should be an exciting moment for him, but he’s too distracted and also felt such a painful guilt in his stomach. He probably thought he killed the man. Nobody would survive such a horrible incident like that! He felt like he was about to puke...

This was a dark chapter in the W.V.B.A history books.

This incident was in the year 1985

Weeks have passed since the incident, and Nick wakes up in a bed with a brand new arm attached to his arm. Stitched up of course. Unfortunately, this meant that he also remembered what happened to him that night. Nick didn’t know if he should be grateful that he’s still here, or if he should be mad now that his perfect record is down the drain. “What an embarrassing way to go out” he said in his head. This is what he’s going to be remembered by. The one guy that had his damn arm fall apart.

Great.

However, Rick was so happy that his brother was alive! He watched the match from the tv back in the lab, and was absolutely terrified with what happened. Poor Rick really thought Nick was dead, but who could blame him? He waited oh so patiently for the progress on Nick’s rebuilding.

Nick couldn’t help but feel a bit touched by this. He never felt this way before.

One of the scientist then explained to the still confused Nick that apparently his body was starting to weaken with all the excessive fighting they put him through and that it went completely off their radar. So during the last fight with Glass Joe, his body completely gave up on him. Literally. But after a few alterations to his body along side stitching up his new arm, something like this should never happen again. Hopefully.

Well that explains a lot.

They all decided that they should stay off of boxing for awhile just in case something like this ever happens again. So both Rick and Nick just simply hung around the lab for awhile and used the opportunity to do some catching up.

During this they mainly were assistants for the workers in the lab and did various activities as well.

Time passes by and by unanimous decision, the lab decides to let Rick and Nick Bruiser go to the outside world for themselves. With all the knowledge they learned, they thought that they’re perfectly ready to have their own social lives.

The lab provided them with everything they need. Fake birth certificates, new IDs, social security, lots of money, clothes, and a little apartment they can start off with. The lab will of course will keep them in close contact just in case something haywire happens.

Finally, the brothers can be a part of society.

They started to get use to the average living life. They lived together in the apartment that they were provided with and made do with it. Rick wanted to do more stuff unlike Nick, who was more introverted. But hey siblings will be siblings am I right? Nick was still self conscious about going out because someone might recognize him as that one boxer that... yeah... so even when he does go out, he’s covering his face up with a hoodie.

The year is 1990 and the W.V.B.A. is taking in new and fresh boxers for their second branch that they just established.

Rick saw an advertisement for this and jumped at the opportunity to join. For all of his (short) life, Rick wanted to fight in the ring. But because he was seen as a simple prototype and how Nick got WAY more of the attention, he felt ignored. So this was finally the opportunity for him to possibly join the association. Rick doesn’t care if he doesn’t end up being that great, he just wants to fight his heart out.

Nick took notice of this. At first he thought “Yeah, right. Like I’m going back there.”. But when he really started to contemplate, this could be possible redemption. No longer does he have to hide in the shadows of his past, he can show the country— no, the world that he’s not the same anymore.

That was the old Nick. He’s the new Nick now.

When he told his brother that he’ll join and possibly even try for the belt, pure ecstasy bursted out of Rick. Finally, he and his brother can take on the world and have it in their hands together.

After all, they are The Bruiser Brothers.

[mac-lilly]

JATP fic ideas that live rent-free in my head

A compilation post to keep track of all the jatp stories that I will never write ...

Stuff I've actually written

Juke:

Juke Kitchen

Alone Together

Strumming the Soul

Beautiful

Heartbeat

Willex:

Hotdog and Cold dog

Cross my heart and hope to die (again)

A night to remember:

Just one more night (Luke)

Tomorrow (Reggie)

Ghostwriter:

Snippet 1

Snippet 2

Snippet 3

Hamster!Luke

Doodle

Canon-Compliant (kinda)

The inevitabilities of (after)life

(Boys coming back to life but without memories - Juke)

After their performance at The Orpheum, the guys suddenly start seeing a magical light, and they figure it's time to cross over. Before they leave, however, Julie and Luke accidentally seal a magical pact with unfathomable consequences. (And they kiss.) And then the boys are gone.

However, a year later, just after coming to terms with the guys' departure, Julie's world is turned upside-down (again) when a very alive Luke suddenly reenters her life. And it's not just him -- Alex and Reggie are back too. But to Julie's horror and agony, all three have lost their memories. (And not just them. With the exception of Bobby, nobody remembers them.)

And so, Julie has to make a decision: Fight to unseal their memories or let them live their new-found lives without her?

It's an easy choice, really. Plus, she has to make her resurrected Phantoms stay alive. Because there's a series of uncanny and nearly fatal accidents that always involve her boys and, weirdly, Nick.

(There are 1.75 chapters of this on my PC.)

Ghost license

(inspired by the movie "Hui Buh" - no focus on romance)

The boys get tasked to obtain a ghost license for the Molina house. Otherwise, they have to leave the place and become wayward ghosts (and have to return to Caleb.) And thus, the Phantoms are forced to attend a school for ghosts -- exams included.

Random character stuff:

Julie's doodling

Luke's room

AUs

Songwriting Journal of Fate

(A Kimi no Na Wa AU - Juke)

Part I

Part II

Part III

Snippet 1

Snippet 2

Show me how to be whole again

An arranged marriage/enemies-to-reluctant-allies-to-friends-to-lovers Juke AU

Plot

BAM! I'm actually writing this one.

AO3 Link

Image Board

Sweet Home Alabama AU

Yet another enemies-to-friends-to-almost-lovers-to-enemies-to-friends&lovers Juke AU.

Teaser

First & Last Scene

"Life with Derek"-inspired AU

Teaser/Prologue

Rivers of London AU

Julie, a witch in training, and Luke, a ghost

Snippet 1

Snippet 2

Snippet 3

Phantom Thieves

(A Kamikaze Kaitou Jeanne AU (without the religious stuff) - Juke)

Julie makes a deal with Caleb: She helps him collect/steal possessed artifacts, and in exchange, he'll grant her a chance to talk to her mom again.

At first, it goes pretty well. She steals the objects and hands them over to Caleb. But soon, she gets a rival. Another thief shows up, who is way too cheeky and attractive, and he starts snatching those items Julie is supposed to steal from under her nose. Julie is not amused by his attitude, and Caleb tells her that he probably wants to use these magical items for evil.

At the same time, Julie makes acquaintance with three guys who just transferred to her school, and she may or may not develop a crush on one of them. (And Julie can't help but see certain similarities between Luke and her new-found thievish rival ... but surely that's just a coincidence, right?)

Mind the Gap

(A Neverwhere AU - Willex & (minor) Juke)

Alex lives a pretty normal life. Sure, after he came out to his parents, he's become an outcast. But he's willing to put up with this shit anyway. (What are the alternatives?)

Then he encounters Willie, an extremely weird but also handsome guy who tells him that he is being hunted. Confused, Alex helps him hide. The next day, Willie is gone, and suddenly his life seems to vanish. His parents, his peers -- everyone seems to forget that he exists.

Determined to set things right, Alex sets out to find Willie, hoping that he (or the person he's running away from) has the power to give him his life back. He enters the World Below -- the place where all the people who've all fallen through the cracks stand. However, as he keeps gathering a group of unlikely and way too cheerful acquaintances who quickly become his friends (and more), he starts questioning his desire to return to the normal world.

[crookshanks23]

What a fun episode. Definitely way more light-hearted and lots of good jokes and goofs.

I am a bit concerned with how lighthearted it felt, though. I know they can't dwell on Terry Jr. forever, and there was essentially a ticking clock with the last anchor broken, but it felt too fast to me.

As for the content of the episode, all of the character interactions were great. And boy, did Taylor take charge this episode. You go anime ranger teen!

All of the stuff with Mayor McSnarkles was wonderfully creepy. She's one of my favorite NPCs. I miss some of the creepy, body horror stuff from earlier in the season.

And then the whole "fight" with Willy was full of great character stuff too. He is such a piece of shit - the whole turn with Taylor's mom just blew my mind.

The episode ends on a pretty big cliffhanger, and I definitely have some questions that I hope get answered: did cutting off their fingers officially break Willy and Cassandra's connection? It seemed like it because she didn't take further damage from Normal, but also didn't feel fully resolved. Is Cassandra gonna let Nick in? What is everyone, especially Willy, gonna do now that the Doodler has possessed Scary?

As I mentioned in my last post, I didn't think we were hurtling towards the Doodler this quickly, because this feels like the endgame. But maybe it's not. Maybe the Doodler is about to give them all some directions or other mini quest next time to keep the season going. And then again, maybe not.

I just know that I'm looking for some catharsis with the character arcs and it doesn't feel like we're there yet. Here's to looking forward to the next one as we discover this together.

[astragreenwoode]

The Spitfire Curse - Chapter Five

Previous: Chapter Four • Next: Chapter Six • Masterlist • AO3 Version

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)

Pairings: Billy Hargrove x Fem!OC (Only Mentioned)

Genre: Adventure, Thriller, Horror, Slow-Burn Romance, Angst, Hurt/Comfort. Smut, Fluff, Slice of Life, Slight Canon-Divergence, Fix-it fic

As always, thank you @take-everything-you-can for your beta reading and all your feedback!

Chapter Five: A New Found Feeling I Did Not Understand

Word Count: 11,151

Chapter Warnings: Disembodied Voices, Anxiety, Self-Deprecating & Violent Thoughts, References to Murder and other Criminal Activities, Drug Use, Mentions of Substance Abuse, Mental Illness, Hypersexuality

Chapter Summary: Maeven remembers the first time her mother and sister caught her doing drugs, as well as the reason she started in the first place. After her meeting with the Chief of Hawkins, her mom drags her and Max to the general store for some last-minute shopping. While there, she meets a single mother who offers her a gig that could help her find her place in her new home. Maybe she had more friends in Hawkins than she initially thought.

Relationships: Maeven and Joyce Byers • Maeven, Max and Susan Mayfield • Maeven and Billy(Mentioned) • Susan and Neil

February 1984

It had been two weeks since I shot up from my bed in a cold sweat after dreaming about the brutality that followed Melody Chandler’s New Year’s Eve party. Two weeks since I frantically ran to my mom’s craft room to swipe her sewing shears before running out the back door to the fire pit on the grass. Two weeks since the voice in my head convinced me to cut off all my hair to keep what happened to me from happening again.

“You don’t need it anymore. It’s only going to hold you back and get you hurt,” it told me. “Cut it off! Burn it! You need to get away from it!”

After being homebound on doctor’s orders after my release from the hospital, I was finally going back to classes at Newport High following my last weekend as an in-home patient. My injuries and fragile state of mind kept me home for six weeks. It was still painful to walk or think too hard. I wasn’t looking forward to returning. Perhaps it was my subconscious reacting to my return that made me do it.

My hair was no longer an extension of my soul. Feeling it against my neck and back now made me shiver. It was going to tangle around my body and strangle me to death if I didn’t do something. I had to cut it off. They made me do it.

In my hysterical haste to cut it away from me, my mom’s sewing shears nicked my cheeks, ears, and the back of my neck. I ran to the shed to get the matches and lighter fluid and set the pile of my sheared locks on the fire pit to set it aflame. I couldn’t wait any longer to watch it burn. I didn’t need it anymore, like an animal shedding its fur for the new season. Just like that, it was as if all my troubles and burdens disappeared the moment the match ignited the flames.

During the entire process, I was sobbing my eyes out. It was surprising how neither Mom nor Max came out to check on me. Mom told her it was sometimes best to just let me cry it out, like a baby who didn’t know any better. But they didn’t think I would ever go this far. And only when I watched it all burn in the fire pit did I feel a strange sense of relief, and my sobbing turned into hysterical laughter. It was only then that Mom and Max came outside to put out the fire of my own making. Mom barely looked at me afterward.

She barely acknowledged me when she came to pick me up from the principal’s office after getting in yet more fights or talking back and losing my shit at the staff. If she knew about me lying and sneaking out to go to parties and drown myself in sex and drugs, she never said anything about it. She rarely even noticed when I walked in a room, anymore. 

It was bad enough that everyone at school apart from my closest friends avoided me like the plague. Mom hardly baring to look at me was the icing on the cake. Even when she did, she looked heartbroken, like I wasn’t even her daughter, anymore. Looking me in the eye for too long was too painful for her.

But even when she finally did pay attention to me, it wasn’t pleasant.

One night, I woke up from yet another nightmare that I was an animal being ripped apart and turned into taxidermy. Max was asleep and Mom was out on a date night with Neil. I thought about calling my Dad, but I didn’t want to be a burden and wake him up. He had been working so hard, lately. Earlier in the evening, Billy fucked me in his Camaro until nothing hurt in my heart or head, anymore. I couldn’t wake him up after demanding orgasm after orgasm from him before.

I opened the window of my bedroom next to my bed to get some fresh air before reaching for the little door handle of my side table. I pulled out this beautifully psychedelic bong Madison made me at her cousin’s glass studio as a get-well gift. Nutmeg trotted into my room and sat next to me on the edge of my bed as I lit up the bowl and inhaled. I leaned against the window and breathed out, keeping the smoke away from her as I exhaled all the pain and fear. The tips of my fingers and toes tingled as all the tenseness left my limbs and I regained control. 

Instinctively, I brought my knees up to my chest and hugged myself as Nutmeg attempted to squeeze herself into my lap. Her fur tickled my face as I fell back on my bed and pulled her up to my chest. She looked at me with her wide blue eyes before letting out a tiny squeak and pressing her face against mine. I let out a soft laugh as she sat on my tummy and started to scratch behind her ear with her hind leg.

“Need help with that, Nuts?” I playfully asked, reaching my hands up to scratch behind her ears. Her eyes widened before closing again as she nuzzled her face into my palm and let out one of her long and comforting purs that never ceased to warm my soul. When she opened her eyes and softly mewed again, I found myself wondering what was going on inside her head behind those big blue orbs. My fingers traced her face and the outline of her skull, feeling all the dents and dips in her bone.

“It would be so easy to just crush her body in your hands right now, wouldn’t it?” The voice barked at me, making my muscles tense as my heart threatened to stop out of fear. “Then maybe you could take a real look and figure out what’s going on inside her. She’d probably let you do it, too. She trusts you. Go on. Do it.”

“No! Get away!” I begged aloud, slapping myself across the face as if I could scare away whatever devious thing lived inside my head. Nutmeg yowled as she scattered off my lap and onto the other side of my bed. I frantically sat up as my breathing became more erratic. The voice was gone. . .for now. But they would come back. They always did.

I’ve been hearing this voice inside me ever since I was a little girl. It wasn’t always so malicious and violent. They could tell me to do good or fun things. They told me to be cautious and calm down. It brought me this newfound feeling I did not understand, which grew and manifested in my soul; I wished I wasn’t fully human, anymore. 

I wished I could turn into a beast of some kind and wreak havoc upon the world and the people who wished me harm. That’s probably what happened on New Year’s Eve; I was too tired of being hurt and so angry that I unleashed all my rage upon those boys. And though that instinct saved my life, it also scared the ever-loving shit out of me. Hidden beneath that little girl who loved rainbows and all things wild, was I secretly a bad person? I didn’t want to have hate in my heart. It made me feel ugly.

Nutmeg’s sudden meows as she rubbed up against my arm brought me out of my anxiety-induced trance and helped my heartbeat slow down to a calmer rate. I pulled her into my lap and hugged her in my arms like a baby as I inhaled her familiar, homely scent.

“I’m sorry, Meg. I’m so sorry,” I told her. I didn’t know why, but I felt like she could sense my innermost thoughts and feelings. And that meant she could see the dark thoughts that invaded my head. “I’d never hurt you, baby. I promise,” I whispered as I kissed her cheek.

Setting her back down on the bed, she curled up into a fluffy ginger circle on top of my pillow. As I leaned against the window and lit up the bowl of my bong again, I inhaled again.

“Margaret Maeven Mayfield! What do you think you’re doing!?”

My heart stopped as my eyes widened, and I started choking on the smoke of my bong as I turned around, mentally preparing for another one of Susan Mayfield’s world-famous lectures. She stood in the doorway to my room with her hands on her hips and a wide stance in her high heels. It looked like she was trying to stand like a wonder-woman action figure, and I couldn’t help but laugh in my high state.

“I think that’s pretty obvious, Susan. You’d have to be blind not to figure this out. Are you blind?” I laughed again.

“This stops right now!” She heavily stomped her way over to me and reached for my bong on my lap. I held it away from her in my arms like I was teasing her on the playground. As I leaned back on my bed to get further away from her, Nutmeg jumped into my lap and hissed at my Mom, causing her to stand back in shock as my little fluffy guardian upsettingly trilled.

“What the hell is going on?” Max mumbled, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she stood in the doorway.

“Max, go back to your room!” Mom all but shouted to her. Max’s eyes widened, now fully awake, and darted to the bong in my hands.

“What is that?”

“Nothing,” I said, sitting up to wrap my arms around it in a pathetic attempt to hide it. I may have been a shitty daughter, but I’ll be damned if I expose my baby sister to drugs the same way our parents did to us, even if it was just weed.

“Something that is absolutely not allowed in this house!” Mom shouted at me, trying to wrestle the bong out of my arms again. I leaned back and kept her at bay with my feet on her stomach. Nutmeg swiping her paw at her finally made her give up. She put her face in both hands and frustratingly groaned into them as she shook her head.

 “Mae-Mae, what were you thinking!? What is wrong with you!?” It was a question I had been asked so many times in my life, by teachers, other kids, and strangers. I could handle it. I was used to it, by now. But it always hurts the most when it comes from her.

“Everything, apparently. No matter what I do, nothing changes,” I answered. Her face dropped and her tone changed. Despite her constant nagging and annoying talks, she had been more gentle with me these last couple of months while I recovered. But seeing her switch between moods wasn’t anything new.

“I have been pretty forgiving of what you’ve been doing lately after. . .what happened. But that does not mean you can just get high in the middle of the night while your sister and I are just down the hall.”

“When else would I do it?” I asked, rolling my eyes. At least I had the decency to hide it. When she was going through her rough patch, she never tried to conceal her addiction from us. She flaunted it around us like some kind of medal.

“Maeven, you are seventeen years old. You cannot be doing this at all,” she lectured me, using her hands to emphasize and annunciate like always

“Why? Why does it matter so fucking much to you, Mom? It shouldn’t. It doesn’t. Nothing does,” I sneered back at her. It’s not like she was never seventeen, herself.

“So, what? Nothing matters? Is that what you’re saying?” Her stern and annoyed tone had returned. This time, Max answered before I had the chance.

“Not really. Even if we so much as breathe in your general direction, you get mad at us,” she sleepily groaned, leaning against my door frame.

“Max. Stay out of this. This doesn’t concern you,”

“Like Hell, it doesn't!” my sister suddenly fumed.

“Language!” Mom boomed. I held in a laugh and almost choked on it before it could escape my mouth. As far as cursing goes, that was the mildest word. And here my mom was reacting like Max just called her the ‘C word.’

“She’s my sister, Mom! I’m a part of this family, too, y’know!” The way she phrased it, laced with so much pain, threatened to break my heart. I could tell it had already broken Mom.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked. Max rolled her eyes. For someone who was once smart enough to be a nurse, she was still clueless.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about! You’ve been ignoring me for weeks. And even if you aren’t taking care of Maevey or out with Neil, all you do is yell at me!”

“I do not always yell at you!”

“Yeah. You’re not really making the best case for yourself there, Susan,” I interrupted. Something that had been present all my life, but I was just starting to notice, was how the women in this family had the tendency to rapidly switch between moods. I’m not sure if was something Mom passed down to us, or something we picked up over the years of witnessing it in her. Either way, we seemed to bring out both the best and worst of each other.

She turned to me, her finger pointing inches away from my face.

“Don’t call me that! I am your mother, and you will address me as such!” she demanded. I flinched for a moment, rubbing my hand across my face to wipe off her spit.

“Still proving her point, Mom,” I pointed out to her.

At this point, Mom was physically shaking and visibly seething, like a volcano threatening to erupt. Not wanting to prove us right, she didn’t say a word for about thirty seconds in order to regain her composure. I pictured her as the Yellowstone Caldera boiling and then suddenly simmering.

“Girls, listen. I don’t want to be mad at either of you, okay? I really don’t, but. . .you’re both making it really hard not to. You need to help me out here. Can you just try to do the right thing and stay out of trouble!?”

Max got in trouble sometimes for saying a swear word in class, or maybe even a misunderstanding with another kid. Every once in a while, she would hit someone who completely deserved it. I was worse, for obvious reasons, and it had only gotten worse, lately. Mom was embarrassed; she was ashamed of us. We were her daughters; a reflection of her as a parent and a person, whether we liked it or not. And while she did indeed try her best to raise us to be good, we also had her biggest flaws.

“That doesn’t mean you can just ignore her! I’m just smoking weed! It’s natural and besides, It’s not like you’ve never done it before!”

“What? What’re you talking about?” Mom’s eyes darted from side to side, avoiding eye contact with me as she continued to play dumb.

“I’ve seen your secret stash of cigarettes in the laundry room. I’ve known about it for three years, now,” I reminded her. 

One day when I was fourteen, it was my turn to do the laundry that week. It was also where Nutmeg’s scratching post and Bullet and Lucy’s beds were. Nutmeg decided to climb up on the top storage shelf above the washer and dryer and meow at me to come and bring her down. When I climbed up to reach her, she kicked a small keepsake box from the corner. 

When it fell on the linoleum, it was filled with Marlboro Red 100s and a couple of lighters, and Mom’s old driver’s license. She looked so different in it than I was used to; happier, less haunted. It crossed my mind more than once that Nutmeg knew it was there and wanted me to see it. I knew it was ridiculous. I put everything back in its place and never spoke about it. But I never looked at my Mom the same way, again.

“Are you really judging me right now? You?” she laughed at me, seizing her opportunity to finally snatch the bong from my hands and swipe my lighter from my table. But I didn’t fight her this time. As she stomped toward my door, Max moved out of her way to sit on the edge of my bed.“You’re going to get addicted and when you do, you’ll be sorry! I should know. I’ve been there, and I don’t want you to go down that path,”

I rolled my eyes and put my head in my hands. Did she really think me smoking weed for my anxiety was comparable to the drinking problem she had been struggling with on-and-off her entire life?

Max stood up and walked closer to Mom.

“That’s not the same thing and you know it. You had to stop drinking ‘cause you were a danger to us and to Dad,” she grunted. I quickly stood up in front of her and put my arm in front of her. Even if she was right, this was my fight with Mom. She shouldn’t have to stand up for me against our mother. That was my job; I was the big sister.

“While you’re poisoning your lungs with nicotine, I’m smoking a fucking plant, Mom! We’re not the same!”

“Well, y’know what, girls!?” Mom thundered, laughter, pain, and anger weaved through her voice. “You’re right. I do smoke cigarettes! I do drink, and I’m not ashamed of it. You wanna know why? Because I’m an adult. I do what I want.” “So you just get to do whatever the fuck you want?”

“Yes, Max. I do,” she said, quiet this time as she took my lighter and lit up the bowl of the bong. Was she really about to do what I think?

“And when you two grow up, . .” she continued, inhaling the smoke before coughing out her last words straight into my face. “. . .you can do whatever you want, too.”

For the first time in my life, I was speechless as she looked at me with tears filling up in her now-red eyes. I was surprised she even knew how to use it. I wondered if I possibly looked like her when I smoked weed. I hoped not. She looked pathetic trying to be tough and prove her point.

“Yeah. Nice one, Mom. You’re really earning that ‘mother of the year’ trophy,” I to her. She narrowed her eyes at me. I should’ve known she wasn’t done.

“But until then, you are kids. You’re my children. And if I were you two, I’d hold onto it for as long as I can, okay? Because once you grow up, I’m not gonna always be around to protect and guide you girls. Once you grow up, you’re both going to have to go through and deal with some pretty shitty stuff.”

I knew our Mom didn’t have the easiest life growing up. Her older brother died when she was fourteen; she never said how. Her mother disappeared for a while, which she never talked about either. She jumped through so many hoops to put herself through medical school and be taken seriously as a Medical Professional, not just a woman. She lost her baby brother to HIV just a few years ago. I’m not denying that her life was hard, but how dare she try to turn pain and suffering into a competition after everything that we’ve been through? What Max has been through with her family falling apart? What I’ve been through in just these last few months? How dare she?

“Like we haven’t already?”

As soon as I said that, her demeanor suddenly changed as she reached out for me; as if she hadn’t just said all those cruel things to me, to my sister. She got what she wanted; she won the argument. Wasn’t that all that mattered to her, after all?

“Oh, Mae-Mae, I didn’t mean-”

“Goodnight, Mom,” I plainly said, crawling into bed as if she wasn’t even there. Nutmeg curled up at my feet. It was quiet for a while, and even if I couldn’t see it, I knew Max was staring daggers into Mom, just as pissed as I was.

“Max, I-”

“Don’t. Just don’t,” she said, closing the door without another word before climbing into bed with me. In the now pitch blackness, I rolled over to face her as we rested our arms across each other. Nutmeg moved up from my feet to fit snuggly in the gap between us. We both gave her soft pets before returning our hands back to their original snuggling position. I left her with one last word of wisdom before we shut our eyes to sleep.

“Max, I know I’m not the best role model, but if I ever catch you with weed before you’re eighteen, I’ll kill you.”

She only let out a soft laugh.

. . .

Maeven’s left arm leaned out the window of the family station wagon as she let the cold, autumn wind blow against her hand and between her fingers. The other held her backpack securely in her lap as she squished against the bottom to squeeze Woodsy Owl. She let the cool air brush against her face as she closed her eyes. 

The Hawkins air would take some getting used to. It was absent from factory fuels, cigarette smoke, and car exhaust the family was used to in crowded California. The atmosphere in rural Indiana was fresher than that of the big cities to the west, enriched by the lush forests surrounding the small town. Of course, the scent of manure from the local farms was a little intense. But it reminded Maeven of when they lived in Oregon when she and Max were little, or when they would travel to Colorado to visit Aunt Maggie on her farm.

“So, how’d the meeting with the Chief go?” Neil spoke up from behind the wheel, bringing Maeven’s attention back to the present. She brought her arm back in and threaded her fingers together beneath her backpack.

“Okay, I guess,” she shrugged. “We didn’t really talk that much, but he wasn’t scary like Daly.”

“Daly wasn’t scary, Margaret,” Neil scoffed as he turned the car into downtown Hawkins. “He was just doing his job. You’re too old to be scared of people like that, anyways. It’s pathetic.” He locked eyes with his stepdaughter through the rear-view mirror, to which Maeven darted her eyes downward to her lap to keep the tears from falling.

“He’s right, you know. It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic, Maeven,” the voice taunted as her heart raced, silencing at the sensation of another hand grasping hers. Maeven looked at Max, who gave her a reassuring squeeze. Susan’s eyes went sad at the sight, prompting her to place a gentle hand on her husband’s shoulder.

“Neil. . .” she pleaded, approaching him with a soft voice she would use on her daughters when they were upset. He shrugged her off.

“What? It is,” he stood his ground.

Susan flinched at his sudden and unnecessarily aggressive shrug, but didn’t push the topic to her husband any further; not that surprising to Maeven or Max. It became more common between them the longer he’d been around and made himself comfortable in the Mayfields’ lives. Just another thing to add to the list of things Maeven would have to tell her school counselor about. . .if she decided to share anything at all, that is. It was too early to tell how she felt about it.

“It’s good to hear that, Maevey. It sounds like you felt good about it?” Susan tilted her head toward the back seat. Maeven nodded.

“I do, yeah. He was actually really nice to me. He didn’t really seem like a cop,” she explained, still gobsmacked that their earlier meeting didn’t end up with her crying. It was refreshing to not be pushed for once.

“I’m not convinced.” Neil scoffed and shook his head. “Lotsa folks I talked to today said Chief Hopper’s got quite the bad reputation around here. Doesn’t do his job right or some shit.”

Maeven stopped breathing for a few seconds as the gears in her head turned.

“See? He’s not even qualified to look after you,” the voice whispered into her head, her arm instinctively twitching in an attempt to shake the gross feeling away. Of course, Hopper was too good to be true. She should’ve known better. This is how it always goes.

“Well. . .the important thing is he seems nice. And it looks like he’s taking Maevey’s case seriously,” Susan followed up. It was really one of her better qualities; the ability to turn almost any bad situation into an opportunity with her optimism. But of course, there were some situations that didn’t have that easy of a solution. Maeven was living proof of that, thanks to her recent string of bad luck.

“Yeah. He better. The last thing we need is another one of her problems,” Neil commented as he looked for a good spot to slow down so the ladies could get out. He always had to have the last word. He often made sure that his opinion was made known; Maeven was a problem instead of a person to him, and she had a long way to go before his view changed. But she wasn’t sure if she should care about that.

When Neil brought the car to a full stop, the girls all unbuckled their seatbelts and climbed out. They recognized it as the place they were in front of when Max fell off her board a few feet from where they were now parked. Maeven tripped as she tried to stop herself so suddenly. A nice woman, the store clerk, came outside to see if they were okay. She seemed like the kind of person who would invite you in for tea and cookies if you fell right in front of her house. That’s probably what would’ve happened if Billy hadn’t magically shown up to drag them back home, almost as if on cue.

As Maeven and Max stood next to each other on the sidewalk in front of Melvald’s General, Susan went from the passenger seat around the front to lean down to talk to her husband. It was always a weird sight to witness, as the sisters often joked that she looked like a hooker trying to entice a deal with a potential client. Despite her knowing what her daughter’s felt about that position, she did it anyway.

“I’ll circle back around in thirty minutes. Just be ready by then,” Neil told her, placing his rough, calloused hand over hers.

“We will, Sweetie. Do you need anything while we’re here?” she offered.

“Wouldn’t mind a couple of six-packs, Suze,” he replied, leaning in for his usual goodbye kiss. It was almost pathetic.

“You got it. We’ll see you in a bit. Love you,” she laughed softly as she returned to the sidewalk.

“You, too, Susie.”

. . .

It was a huge culture shock to the Mayfield women suddenly going from having a store for every little thing on every little block in California to having only a small handful of choices Hawkins had to offer. Sure, they had been to stores like this in passing while on road trips or visiting their rural relatives. Having to live like that was a whole other thing. Something else they’d need to get used to.

It was nice, though. At least, Maeven thought so. So what if the place had that strange lingering smell? It was part of the charm.

“Hi, there. Welcome to Melvald’s! Can I help you guys find anything today?” The clerk the sisters met the previous day walked right up to them. Her nametag read ‘Joyce;’ something they didn’t notice yesterday. It suited her, though. They could tell.

“Are we that obvious?” Max groaned, leaning her head on her big sister’s shoulder. Maeven wrapped her arm around her as she grabbed a shopping basket from the entrance.

“Oh, no, honey,” Joyce laughed with a wave of her hand. “I greet everyone like that. Force of habit. I don’t think I’ve seen you around before, have I?” she asked.

Susan confidently gripped her purse and secured it over her shoulder. “No. Well, maybe my girls. They were goofing off around here yesterday. We just moved here.”

Joyce’s eyes widened as they turned to the girls, causing them to purse their lips and shake their heads. She figured their mom probably didn’t know about their little tumble yesterday, so she said nothing; much to the girls' relief, it looked like.

It made sense that they were new. She hadn’t seen hair that fiery since poor Barbra Holloway.

“Really? You liking Hawkins so far?”

“It’s okay,” Max yawned, causing her sister to do the same. Even though Susan told them the previous night that they had to wake up early this morning, the girls’ bodies were still adjusting to their new schedule and timezone. She expected them to go to bed early when they arrived back home, even if she and Neil were planning on a date that night.

Susan took the shopping list in her left hand and folded it in half before tearing it and handing the lower half to her oldest daughter.

“Girls, here. Why don’t you go divide and conquer?” she asked. This was a usual Mayfield family routine, in which Norman and Susan would send their daughters off on a scavenger hunt for groceries. It made the important-yet-boring tasks of everyday life a little more fun. Norman was good at that; turning everything into a game for his girls.

At her suggestion, the sisters' drowsy demeanors basically disappeared as they both perked up. 

“‘Kay, Mom,” Maeven smiled before running off elsewhere in the store with Max by her side.

“It’s Joyce, by the way. Joyce Byers,” the clerk introduced herself, holding out her hand. Susan gladly returned the gesture. For a backwater town, the people in Hawkins sure were nice.

“Susan May-. . . Hargrove. Susan Hargrove,” she corrected herself. Susan still had trouble with the sudden name change after proudly wearing her ex-husband’s name like a badge for over a decade. But she was getting better at it. At least she didn’t make that mistake around Neil, anymore. She knew better, now.

“Nice to meet you, Susan. I have two sons, around your girls' ages. Maybe they’ll meet in school?” Joyce suggested, getting that typically hopeful spark in her eye that every mother seemed to have when talking about their children. Susan missed that feeling.

“Sure. That might be nice,” she agreed. She’d have to think about it. Max was certainly ready for new friends. But was Maeven ready, too? That seemed to be the question Susan asked herself every day for the last nine months.

“Where’d you guys move from?” Joyce wondered.

“We’re from California. San Diego. My husband got a promotion that took us here,” she said. That was what she and Neil agreed they’d tell people. It wasn’t a complete lie.

“Really? Is it nice down there? I’ve only ever been in Hawkins my whole life.”

“It is yes. My husband wanted us to have a fresh start here. My ki-. . .my girls and stepson are starting school tomorrow,” Susan corrected herself again. Even if Billy wasn’t around her right now, she could clearly hear him annoyingly scoff at her; “I’m not your kid, Susan. You’re not my mom. You never will be. Stop acting like it.”

“I need some supplies,” she told Joyce

“Oh, great! Well, school supplies are over there,” she replied, pointing the mother in the direction of the stationary. Maeven was probably loitering around there. “We still have a lot of leftover stock from our ‘back-to-school’ sale. I’ll just be around if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Joy. I appreciate it.”

. . .

Maeven had to contain her excitement at the sight of the small, yet charming selection of books at Melvald’s General. She knew if she let it out, her mom would come running over before crushing her in a hug and proceeding to scold her for being “too much.” Of course, Susan would want to make sure her daughter was okay after coming so close to losing her not even a year ago. For more selfish reasons, she also didn’t want her family to be stared at like they were a traveling freak show. She didn’t think Maeven would notice this, but she did.

The humble collection of books of all genres stood amongst the stationery and office supplies; her favorite part of any department or superstore. She decided she would look at all the arts and crafts supplies another day. Her mom always took care of the school supply shopping, anyways.

Maeven loved reading. She remembers getting bored of all the books in her own room as a toddler and sneaking out at night to browse her parents’ little private library. Libraries quickly became her place of refuge from an early age, as if the sheer number of books could somehow keep her safe from everything bad. There were always answers for life and the high amount of unfairness it contained if you knew where to look.

Books were also a place to look for an escape when she needed it. Despite loving all the books she had read about animals and ecosystems around the world, there was nothing quite like reading a fantastical fairytale. Maeven was first and foremost a woman of science, but also had an insatiable appetite for magic.

Once she spied an old copy of The Hobbit, she instantly pulled it out from amongst the other books. She flipped through it and inhaled the smell of vintage printing. Despite having her own copy, she loved seeing other editions of it out in the wild. As a kid, she wanted nothing more than to go on an epic quest in search of a dragon. 

Her best memories of the book were when her dad read a chapter each night to her and Max when they were little. Her favorite was Rhadagast the Brown and his rabbit-pulled sled. They spent at least an hour or two on every chapter since Maeven kept stopping her dad’s narration to ask questions that he always answered and never yelled at her for. He didn’t want to disregard his daughter’s curious nature or undermine her intelligence.

The highlight of their journey together through that book, in Maeven’s opinion, was how she managed to convince her little sister that Tolkien's full name was ‘Jolkien Rolkien Rolkien Tolkien.’ It was a classic Mayfield family moment that their family loved mentioning no matter how much it embarrassed the sisters each time.

“That’s one of my boys’ favorites. Are you a fan?”

Maeven flinched in surprise at Joyce’s sudden entrance into her bubble, instinctually putting the book back up on display. Once her brain caught up with the rest of the world and she realized she was safe, she relaxed her shoulders and breathed out.

“I am, yes. . .”

Joyce eyed the young woman as she tightly clutched the small shopping basket in her hand. She and her sister most definitely followed their mother’s instructions and completed their half of the shopping list; filled with everything from silverware to powerstrips and household tools. Joyce didn’t think she was that loud or startling. Why was this girl so nervous? So pale and seemingly fragile? It reminded her of Will and how jumpy he was for the first few weeks after his rescue.

“Sorry. I didn’t catch your name, did I?”

“Oh, no. It’s okay. I’m Maeven. My little sister’s Max,” she told her, waving her hand in multiple directions, gesturing to wherever her sister was.

“Maeven? That’s pretty interesting. Where’s it from?” Joyce wondered. This girl had a hippie vibe to her, despite the dark clothing and evident sadness that surrounded her. Susan seemed too uppity. What about her dad’s story?

“Well. . .it means ‘sage’ in Gaelic. I’m Irish on my Dad’s side,” Maeven explained. She could’ve gone into more detail but then remembered what her therapist back in California about oversharing. There was no need to bother a total stranger with her life story. Strangers weren’t interested in her. She knew better now.

“Really?” Joyce cocked her head to the side. “That's pretty neat that your family is so connected to their roots. I have zero clue about mine. All I really know is my Dad’s was Norwegian and my Mom’s was English.”

Maeven said nothing but gave Joyce a soft smile before her eyes returned to the books and stationery. When she pulled the strap of her backpack to be more secure, Joyce’s eyes widened as she let out a small gasp at the sight of the keychain on the zipper.

“Is that a dragon?” she immediately asked.

Maeven almost jumped again, surprised that this woman continued with the small talk. She hadn’t had a conversation so pleasant with someone outside her family in a while.

“Oh. . .yeah. It is. My friend made it for me,” she replied, looking down at the little accessory. At this point, it was a good luck charm. Dylan made it for her as a present for her birthday this year, but turned it into a goodbye present; a red dragon with yellow eyes atop their hoard of gold and gems. He told her that he based it off of her; her fiery spirit and determination.

“They made that? That’s impressive,” Joyce stared at the little figurine in awe, repressing her urge to reach out and touch it. This girl clearly already had issues with boundaries and being close amongst strangers. She didn’t want to worsen it. It looked like one of Will’s drawings came to life.

“Yeah. He sculpts and paints DND miniatures all the time. It’s kind of his thing,” Maeven added. At that moment, a light switch flipped on inside Joyce’s head.

“‘DND?’ Are you talking about Dungeons and Dragons?”

Maeven turned back to the woman in shock. This lady was definitely the last person she’d expect to play DND, much less just be aware that the game exists, but was glad she did. Hawkings just seemed to keep on surprising her.

“Yes! Oh, my God! You know about it?” her face lit up in excitement.

“Well, through my son, Will. He and his friends play it all the time,” Joyce replied. “They hold a campaign together once a week, at least. He’s a wizard.” She wondered what class Maeven would fit into. She seemed like a sorceress or druid. Maybe even a ranger?

‘Of course, her kid played it,’ Maeven figured. Just from that fact alone, Maeven could tell she was a good mom. Good parents show interest in what their children are interested in. Susan used to be that way. Now? Not so much. She feels a little envious of Joyce’s children, now. Having a mother who didn’t brush off their interests like they were a burden must’ve been nice.

“That’s not a very nice way to think about your mom, Maeven. You should be ashamed, wanting to just trade her like that. One day, she’ll be gone, and you’ll have nothing but regret.” the voice whispered in her head, trying to make her stray off-track and retreat into herself like usual. But she found herself not wanting this conversation to end.

“How old is he?”

“He’s thirteen, like your sister,” Joyce said, tilting her head to the side and briefly gesturing to Max, who was now in view with their mother by the chips and candy. As if on cue, Susan’s head turned to Joyce and Maeven before grabbing her youngest daughter by her arm and dragging her along.

“Maeven! What have I told you about bothering others with your. . .interests?” she asked, trying to sound as stern, yet as calm and gentle as possible. She failed.

“Speak of the Devil. You just had to jinx it, didn’t you?” 

Thankfully, Joyce immediately jumped to the girl’s defense.

“Oh, no! She wasn’t bothering me at all, Mrs. Hargrove,” she explained. “If anything, I’m the one bothering her. I’ll let you get back to shopping now.”

As Joyce returned to the front of the store, she left the Mayfield women in an awkward silence. Maeven was now shaking in her boots in humiliation and anger as she crossed her arms to hug herself. Why did her mom have to do this? What benefit could she gain from embarrassing her already fragile daughter in public?

Susan’s instincts told her to comfort the now-shaking Maeven, as she was obviously distressed by the whole situation. Never once did she consider herself to be the cause of that distress. She walked towards her daughter, taking the shopping basket from her arms before wrapping her in a tight hug and placing a kiss atop her head.

“Did you find everything on the list or did you lollygag around the books again?”

Maeven rolled her eyes and groaned before wriggling out of her mother’s grasp and turning away from her and towards Max.

“I have everything, Mom. It’s fine. I’m not an invalid,” she grumbled, standing next to her sister as she leaned against the beer cooler. The cold feeling of the frost against her neck and back calmed her down just a bit. But, of course, her mom had to open her mouth again.

“I never said you were, honey. . .” Susan said, gently reaching out to cup her daughters’ cheek, to which she wriggled away again with a pout. She took her hand back in shock, standing still with a blank face. Maeven had been doing that each time she was angry with her mother, but it had become more frequent within the last nineteen months. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to that. “. . .and don’t take that tone with me,”

“What tone? This is how I talk, Mom,” she whined, her head rolling along with her eyes this time, as she shoved the handbasket into her mother’s hands. turning to walk toward the front as they now had everything on their list.

“No, it’s not. You never used to sound so. . .so defiant.”

“Well, maybe you just don’t know me anymore, Mom. Have you ever thought of that?”

“Oh, Mae-Mae, I-”

“No, Mom. Please. For both our sakes, just. . .just stop talking.”

Maeven used to love it when her mom used pet names for her. It was another one of the tiny beautiful things that made life matter. But now? Now, it didn’t feel right. Every ‘Mae-Mae’ that came out of her mother’s mouth often sounded patronizing, condescending, and just plain. . .wrong. And when she was scolded while being addressed that way, it was as if her beloved childhood nickname had become a curse, an insult for behaving the way she did.

The nickname was a reminder of her childhood; the one that she so desperately wanted to go back to. If she did, she knew exactly what she’d do differently. She remembered the book in her dad’s collection of various encyclopedias that explained the butterfly effect. She obsessed over it when she was in treatment, trying to give meaning to the events that lead her there as if it would bring her peace. It didn’t, but she still reminds herself of each little event that could’ve changed where she ended up.

Now that it was ruined for her, Maeven had seen her mother in a whole new light. Susan was a lot of things; demanding, egotistical, pushy, and annoyingly talkative, just to name a few. But Maeven never thought the woman who carried her in her womb could reduce all that she was into a mentally fragile victim. And now, there was no way to change it back. It was tainted, ruined. . .just like her.

. . .

The three walked back to the front of the store to find Joyce at the register, marking a few lawn and garden items left over from summer with a price gun. When she looked up, she immediately put the price gun into the box of items and put it below the counter before Susan placed the hand cart on top.

“You find everything alright?” she asked with a smile, starting to scan everything before putting the objects into a brown paper bag; a routine she has mastered throughout her many years as a retail worker.

“We did, yes. Thank you, Joy,” Susan replied with a nod.

“Can she seriously not see her nametag?” The voice whispered in Maeven’s ear, one of the rare moments lately where she listened to it.

“It’s Joyce, Mom,” she corrected, crossing her arms. 

Susan was about to scold her daughter for such a sudden and, quite frankly, rude outburst. But when she looked down at the nametag to see that Maeven was indeed, correct, she stopped herself. Both mother and daughter definitely shared a rash temper.

“Oh, of course. My apologies.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Joyce waved it off as she continued to scan and bag. “It’s not the first time that’s happened and it won't be the last.”

Susan smiled and nodded as she looked Joyce over, debating whether or not this would be a one-off meeting or perhaps the start of a new friendship.

“How long did you say you lived here again?” she asked, also curious to know more about Hawkins from a local.

“My whole life. Hawkins has its problems, but so does everywhere. Lots of my classmates, including my ex-husband, went off for ‘better lives’ or whatever,” she pondered for a moment. “But Hawkins is where I belong. It’s my home,” she said with pride.

“You’re separated?” Susan asked.

“Yeah. It’s all right, though. We’re better off apart,” Joyce replied. Susan let out a scoff as she rolled her eyes.

“I hear that,” she laughed before continuing. “You said before that you have kids?”

“Yep. My oldest, Jonathan is around Maeven’s age, and my youngest, Will, turned thirteen in March.”

Now that Joyce had her full attention, Susan could see the classic signs of motherhood etched into her face. She could see the circles underneath her eyes acquired from so many sleepless nights with newborns. The lines above her brow were from the seemingly countless times a mother would get frustrated with her children. The wrinkles across her cheeks were no doubt from all the worrying about their safety.

“Really? Max just turned thirteen last February. Maybe we should set up a-”

“Mom, I swear to God. . .” Max suddenly interjected,  pushing her way between her mom and sister, desperate to stop Susan before it was too late. “. . .if you use the word ‘playdate,’ I’m skating home.”

The ladies, apart from Max, of course, all started laughing. Maeven pulled her sister into a tight hug accompanied by an affectionately annoying noogie. She and Max started playfighting and giggling; a classic Mayfield Sister moment.

“That everything?” Joyce asked, gesturing to their now bagged-up purchase. Susan nodded.

“Sixty Two dollars, please.”

Susan reached for her wallet in her purse but had to dig deeper when she didn’t immediately find it. As Joyce looked at the family of newcomers, she focused her attention on the eldest daughter. Seeing her relationship with Max reminded her too much of Johnathan and Will that it was uncanny. And as she thought back to her earlier interaction with the girl, a plan formed in her mind. She just hoped that it wasn’t too outlandish of a request for someone she just met.

“Actually, Johnathan’s really busy with the Photography club and works part-time down at the Theatre. And Maeven seems to have a lot in common with Will. If you’re alright with it, would you consider watching him after school?”

At the sound of this, Maeven froze, allowing Max to finally wriggle out of her grip and silently proclaim a victory with a fist pump. She didn’t know what to think. This woman had only just met her and she already decided she was trustworthy enough to look after her kid? Maeven wanted to sing from the rooftops. She wasn’t used to these kinds of offers back in California. Everyone in the community tended to steer clear of her there.

As she was about to reply, Susan interjected.

“Does he really need someone to watch him at that age?” she asked, finally producing her wallet from her purse and handing the cash to Joyce.

Maeven did her best to stop herself from erupting like a volcano. Why did her mom always do this?

“She probably thinks you’ll do something psycho if you’re left alone with a little kid like that. She thinks you’ll go full-on Carrie again,” the voice theorized. They weren’t entirely wrong, either. 

Susan always had the final say these last nine months. Of course, she had the best intentions. She wanted to make sure Maeven was ready to test the waters the way she used to and make sure there wasn’t a potential for her to be triggered and re-traumatized. And God forbid if she happened to have one of her episodes. As always, she never asked her daughter about her thoughts on this. She just did it, much to Maeven’s annoyance and frustration. Susan wasn’t as easily trusting as Joyce apparently was.

“Technically? No, but. . .” Joyce paused, trying to find the right words as she calculated on the register. She couldn’t exactly tell them the whole truth. “He’s been through a lot in the last year and even if he doesn’t like to admit it. . .he’s fragile. He can’t really be alone right now,”

‘Fragile’ was a word that seemed to describe Maeven a lot, lately. Even if she tried so hard to prove the people in her life otherwise, she knew it was true. But she was seventeen when she went through what she did. Will was thirteen, possibly even twelve when he went through whatever he did, barely out of childhood.

“Sounds like you and little William might have a lot in common. You should make him your intern when you become the next Zodiac Killer,” the voice laughed. Maeven waved her hand by her ear and shook her head, washing those nasty thoughts away. . .for now, at least.

“I can’t pay you a lot, but I’ll give you what I can,” Joyce offered as the cash till popped out. She noticed some of the snacks she picked out when talking to her earlier, as well as how she longingly looked at some of the many knick-knacks on the miscellaneous shelves. Maeven seemed like she would willingly accept being paid in small gifts.

“Are you kidding me? I’d love to,” she expressed. Joyce smiled, noticing the girl had a nice gap-toothed smile when she wasn’t twitching with anxiety.

“Well, we’ll see,” Susan compromised, taking the change when Joyce offered it to her. “She needs time to get adjusted to school first. Can we get back to you on that? Maybe in a week?”

“Of course! No problem,” Joyce said, closing the drawer and swiping the receipt from the printer, taking out a pen from the cup on the counter. “Here; I’ll put my phone number on the back of the receipt. Just call me when you’ve had a chance to think about it,” she told Maeven, making eye contact with her as she wrote on the receipt before tucking it into the bag.

“Thanks, Mrs. Byers.”

“Oh, just ‘Joyce,’ dear,” she gently corrected, surprised that the girl remembered her last name from earlier.

“Okay. Thanks, Joyce,” Maeven said with a little bow of gratitude, an odd change in her demeanor, and a sudden spring in her step.

“Alright, receipts’ in the bag, and you guys are all set!” Joyce said, handing the bag to Susan.

“Thank you.”

“Bye, ladies! Welcome to Hawkins!”

For the third time that day, Maeven walked away feeling oddly hopeful about the future. Maybe luck was finally on her side. She sure hoped it was, for a change. For now, she’d just have to wait and see.

. . .

For an hour since they got home, Susan had been dolling herself up for her date with Neil. While other families went to Church on Sundays, the day was reserved for them and their marriage. They worshipped each other instead of a faceless God. No matter how bad the previous week may have been, they always seemed to find something to celebrate. It was a tradition she thought died with Norman when he came back from that trip he never talked about, and she was glad she could recreate it with Neil. Of course, she would never tell him that, lest he react negatively.

Meanwhile, Max helped her sister unpack. So far, they had put all her clothes away in both her small orange dresser and her tall, sticker-covered wardrobe. They moved boxes with all her art and school supplies around her desk where they belonged and now had moved on to her collection of books. Maeven’s favorite thing about her new space had to be the bookshelf built into the wall. She left a few spaces blank, planning on filling them with her knick-knacks and mementos, saving the middle shelf for all her animal bones and other oddities. Max had a shelf just like it in her room, connected, as they now shared a wall. They knew they’d have fun tapping in Morse code to each other at night; a trick their dad taught them from his military training.

Maeven then came across a box she knew she wasn’t ready to open, yet; filled with the pieces of her old life that still brought her pain. As she stored it underneath her bed for a rainy day she hoped would never come, a soft knock on her door interrupted her thoughts.

Billy gave her a soft smile, playfully shaking Maeven’s water bottle in his hand as he leaned against the door frame.

“Here. You left it in the kitchen. I refilled it for you,” he casually mentioned, handing it back to her. She leaned up on her knees to reach from her spot on the floor, the soft brush of his fingers against hers sending a pleasant shock throughout her body as she took her bottle back.

“Thanks,” Maeven noted, biting her lip at the gesture. Maybe later she’d thank him properly for mixing in a strawberry flavor packet. Billy left the room with a sly wink, hidden away from Max(but not as well as he originally thought).

Max may not have seen Billy physically wink, but she noticed how weirdly kind he had been to her ever since they first met that day at Fort Fun back in April. And since Maeven went through treatment, she had been different, too; her demeanor changed when Billy entered a room from her new normal, nervous, but passionate self, to a visibly anxious, restless, and vulnerable version. Did she have a crush on him? Was it the other way around? Whatever it was, it was fucking weird.

Maeven climbed up her bed and leaned over to place her water bottle before crawling back down to the floor to continue unpacking. But once she saw the way Max was looking at her, all serious, she tilted her head in confusion.

“What?”

“You don’t think that's a little weird?” Max asked her, gesturing to where Billy once stood, then to where her bottle now sat. Once she connected the dots, the voice crawled back onto her shoulder.

“She knows. She knows what a big slut her big sister is,” it taunted in her ear. She decided that playing dumb was her best way out of this.

“That he’s looking out for me? Not really?”

“Not that. The fact that he’s nice to you and an asshole to me,” she whined.

“He’s an asshole to everyone, Max,” she laughed, rolling her eyes as she continued to unload and categorize her books. “You’re not special.”

“But you are?”

Maeven froze as she cringed at what the inner voice whispered next.

“Oh, you’re special, alright. You like being his special little fuck-doll, don’t you?”

She squeezed her legs together and held her head down in shame, her head invaded with sinful memories she struggled to push back for another time.

“He’s still pissed about moving, Squirt,” she said, turning her head back to her sister once she found her bearings again. “Give him a week or so to warm up to the place. If he’s still giving you shit, I’ll talk to him,” Maeven promised her. Max gave a barely noticeable nod before turning back to unpacking the rest of the box.

She felt terrible lying to Max but explaining her relationship with Billy wouldn’t be easy no matter how she could possibly start the conversation. Maeven didn’t even know where to start, as she didn’t fully understand why she was with him, either. All she really knew was that he made her feel safe, and that was what she needed the most right now. Otherwise, she feared she’d fall apart all over again. She couldn’t let that happen, again. She couldn’t do that to her family.

“What happened to your nightlight?” Max changed the subject tilting her head in perplexity. It was literally the first thing they did to her room once they got into their new house.

“I was honestly hoping you’d know,” Maeven confessed. She hated that her sister sometimes bore witness to her sleepwalking and other nighttime episodes. But it was always possible that Max knew something she didn’t, and that maybe it could help her.

They continued unpacking for ten more minutes. And when Maeven finally found her box of animal bones and natural oddities, she had to stop herself from squealing. She missed them while they were packed up in that moving truck. 

The sudden ringing of the landline throughout every room in the house made them jump but went back to what they were doing as their mom picked it up in the living room.

“Girls! Your dad’s on the phone!” Susan's voice called from down the hallway.

The sisters’ heads shot up as they looked at each other before they darted like greyhounds across Maeven’s bed to pick up the phone.

“Thanks, Mom!” she yelled back.

“We’re leaving now! We’ll be back around midnight!” Susan called back as she hung up the phone in the living room. But by then, the girls had already drowned her out as they eagerly put the phone on speaker and held it in front of them.

“Dad?” Max spoke first as they awaited an answer.

“Maevey! Max! How’re my girls doing?” His voice was warm and familiar. It felt like home, even if Hawkins was technically their home now.

“Good,” Max shrugged.

“Okay,” Maeven added. Even in the girls’ indifferent mood, they were giddy just being able to talk to him for the first time in the week since they left California.

“Okay? C’mon girls, gimme more to work with here!” Norman laughed on the other end. “You had the school tour today, right? How you are guys feeling about it?”

“Fine, I guess,” Max replied. Jennifer Hayes wasn’t a good tour guide. She just talked about herself the entire time. Of course, Max tuned her out, taking in her surroundings and mapping the layout of the middle school in her head. At least she knew where all her classes were.

“I feel better having met a couple of the other students,” Maeven admitted. Her little sister scoffed.

“Yeah, except that Natalie chick looked at you like you were a ghost,” Max recalled. She wasn’t exactly wrong. Nancy was a little on edge during the tour, causing Maeven to feel the same. Her mind began spiraling again.

“She probably saw you in a newspaper. She knows what you did. She knows how fucked up you are and now she’s gonna tell everyone,” the voice told her. But this time, it didn’t matter to Maeven. Why her headshot was in the news, what happened on New Years, or just how broken she was; none of that mattered right now. All her troubles temporarily disappeared whenever she and Max were on the phone with their Dad.

“It’s Nancy, Squirt,” Maeven corrected her sister, as they both grabbed one of her pillows to rest their heads on while laying on her bed.

“Relax, Maevey. I’m sure this ‘Nancy’ was just shocked to see hair so bright,” their father reassured her on the other end of the phone.

“Or she was stoned,” Max ventured a guess. Maeven laughed at the idea. Witnessing that uppity honor student get high is something she would pay for. But Nancy looked like too much of a prude. Maeven would have to at least see her sloppy-ass drunk.

“No, she seems like too much of a goody-goody,” she shrugged her shoulders.

“Neil still giving you a hard time?” Norman asked.

“Yeah. He keeps calling us ‘Margaret and Maxine,’” Max groaned. Rolling onto her back as she let her frustrations out into her pillow. “Ugh. It’s so annoying”

“That jackass doesn’t know shit from applesauce, girls. Pay him no mind,” their Dad cackled on the other end, forcing his daughters to do the same. After regaining composure from their laughing fit,” Maeven changed the subject

“How’re the fur babies, Dad?”

“They’re doing alright!” Norman replied. “You wanna say hi to them?”

“YES!” Maeven raised her voice to almost a yell. She never felt like she had to hide her enthusiasm around him.

“Oh, my God, yes, pleeease!” Max begged with a smile. The sisters leaned forward in anticipation, their ears almost pressing flush against the phone’s speaker.

“Okay. Bullet, Lucy, speak!”

On command, Maeven and Max heard the familiar howls of the beloved family dogs. They always found it odd that Lucy was the one with the gruff, deeper growl while Bullet was the high-pitched one.

“Hi, babies!” Maeven nearly squealed.

“Is Nutmeg there, too?” Max asked, more eager than ever to hear from her best and longest friend.

“I got her right here. You wanna say ‘hi,’ Nut?”

The ginger Somali half-squeaked, half-meowed through the speaker. It was another one of those sounds that just felt like home to the Mayfield sisters.

“I’ve missed that noise so much!”

“Hi, Nutmeg! I miss you!”

The cat made another sound in reply, pulling another laugh from the two girls.

“Hate to cut this short, but I gotta pee,” Max announced, leaning into the phone.

“Alright, Max. I love you,” Norman said.

“You, too, Dad,” she replied, nearly bouncing off her sister’s bed before leaving the room.

Maeven watched the soft glow of the Indiana sunset as the warm light hit the windows of her bedroom, causing the suncatcher she put up there to make the whole space sparkle with like a rainbow disco ball. She zoned out as she pressed her face against her comforter that was now warmed up from the light.

“Maevey? You still there?”

She suddenly remembered the phone she held in her hand, and who was on the other side.

“I’m here, Dad,” she reassured him.

“You nervous?” he asked.

‘Nervous’ was an understatement. Maeven was petrified. She had been given a second chance at life; a chance to still live after going through hell and back and barely surviving. If she fucked this up, it meant she never really deserved another life to begin with. She should’ve just died bleeding out in that forest when she had the chance.

This wasn’t like when she was starting a new school after moving to California from Oregon. When she was eight years old, the most she had to worry about was who she’d play with at recess. Now she had everything to lose. Her very livelihood was on the line.

“A little. . .” she lied.

“You’re gonna be fine. Trust me,” Norman implored her. Maeven just groaned in reply, wishing she could melt into all her blankets and never come out again. However, after nearly seventeen years of having the pleasure of being her parent, Norman knew just how to bring his daughter out of this funk.

“Hey. Let’s just lay out some rules okay?” 

Maeven untangled herself from her covers and phone chord, laying flat on her back as she tilted her head to the glow of the setting sun. It made her feel better that her Dad was probably looking at the same natural wonder she was. She remembered being a little kid and telling him that it looked like a campfire.

“Okay, fine,” she rolled her eyes with a smile. Her Dad laughed on the other side.

“Number one, Only raise your hand once or twice in each class. You don’t want them intimidated by you. Except for Science. Crush ‘em.”

Maeven held in a chuckle, unsure whether to be offended or flattered. A long time ago, that task would’ve seemed impossible to her. And even if it would still be hard not to be the teacher’s pet, the young girl was more than happy to not be the center of attention, for once.

“Got it,” she replied.

“Number Two: If you’re not where you are, just picture where you wanna be,” Norman continued. That one definitely wouldn’t be hard. It was practically how Maeven survived; picturing herself in the woods by a river instead of a stuffy classroom surrounded by people she didn’t like.

“Of course, always,” she confirmed, sarcastically insulted that he’d expect any less from his daughter.

“Number Three: You’re gonna feel like you’re all alone in there, Maevey. You aren’t. And I’m sure that school is gonna be a lot more interesting with you and Max around,” he concluded. Maeven could tell that he was starting to choke up. She had to pull back her own tears from falling. Even if her Dad couldn’t see her, she didn’t want him to hear her cry. He had already felt bad enough about having his daughters taken from him cross-country.

“I miss you, Dad,” she all but whispered into the phone, almost as if she was sharing a secret with him.

“I miss you, too, Maeven. Take care of your sister for me, okay? I’ll talk to you girls next week. It’s getting late.”

“Goodnight, Dad.”

“Goodnight, Spitfire,” he softly spoke, before all that could be heard was the dial tone.

She was gonna be fine. . .she hoped.

. . .

A/N: Life in my neck of the woods has been super chaotic, my friends. I'm currently on a week-long break after I had to go to the hospital due to my boss overworking me. I'm using this time to catch up on some much-needed rest, organize and rearrange my house, spend time with my family, and work on projects. I'm going to definitely be looking for a better job once I finally get my license that'll hopefully allow me to build healthy habits for myself.

Thank you all so much for being patient with me and loving my story! Next chapter will mostly be smut after we learn more about how Billy and Maeven met and fell in love, initially. I hope you're all ready because I will also be making some major lore dumps. As always, please leave me likes, reblogs, and comments as they help add fuel to my creative fire and hopefully, you'll get more frequent updates!

Stay safe and wild, my dears!

The Spitifre Curse Taglist:

@yaidothat

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

[neilstouchtonetelephone]

want alcohol :( this is a need I'm TIRED. need vodka,,,,, or a hot toddy or SOMTHINE.

[softpine]

i wasn't on tumblr when tlou part 2 dropped but i would love to know your thoughts on the game especially if/how they've changed with time if you're up to writing a paragraph lol

also i've seen a lot of ppl (i've never had a playstation so i have to go off of other ppl's opinions) say that while the story is about how the cycle of revenge is bad that the gameplay still rewards it and how that sort of defeats the purpose of the game for them and wanted to know your thoughts on that

happy tlou season 2 renewal <3

YES YES YES you know i’m always up for writing a paragraph (or ten)

first, let me just clarify one thing: the main message of the game is not “revenge is bad”. i hear people say this constantly and it’s just not true. the real message is all about forgiveness. if i had to boil it down to its essentials, i’d say the message is “love is a stronger force than hate.” but that’s just one interpretation!

i don’t feel that the gameplay rewards the cycle of revenge at all. abby kills joel and in return, she systematically loses everyone she cares about – leah, nick, jordan, nora, manny, yara, mel, and owen... plus she will never be allowed to go home to the WLF again. lev loses his entire family and community too. and they’ve both experienced unspeakable horrors while they were held captive by the rattlers. abby was punished for her decision at literally every turn. but she keeps fighting to survive because she has found a much stronger reason than hate to stay alive: love. protection. family. the first time she ever has a happy dream of her father, after years of nightmares, is when she saves yara and lev. killing joel didn’t give abby closure, but finding something to fight for did. it’s the exact same thing joel found with ellie.

ellie is not rewarded for her actions either. she’s the one picking off the salt lake crew members one by one, but we see her lose a piece of herself each time. she’s not experiencing catharsis, she’s only spiraling deeper into obsession and grief. she can’t appreciate anything good in her life, because she’s still consumed by everything she’s lost. she walks out on her partner, their baby, and their dream home to chase after this elusive “closure”, knowing that she may die trying. i think ellie herself knows that killing abby won’t make her feel better, but the only alternative is forgiving joel and moving on without him, which she doesn’t feel is possible yet. she has to lose everything before she’s able to accept joel for who he is and what he’s done.

it’s a fucking masterpiece the way that the game makes you think joel and ellie’s last conversation was a fight, until they reveal that actually, their last conversation was ellie offering him an olive branch. “i don’t think i can ever forgive you for that. but... i would like to try.” is so impactful because ellie never got the chance to forgive joel while he was alive. even while she was trying to avenge his death, she couldn’t forgive him. it’s only when she has lost herself that she can finally forgive him, and perhaps she can even understand him. that forgiveness has nothing to do with abby or anyone else – it’s all about ellie. it’s about love.

as for my personal opinions about tlou2, they haven’t changed much. i loved it when i played it the first time and i love it even more now!! i greatly appreciate the sheer balls they had, and the fact that they never changed their creative vision to make the game more palatable / marketable. i’ve never seen a game make such an unpopular choice and i respect the fuck out of them for doing it no matter what anyone said. i love joel but i’m glad he died because it gave rise to one of the most impactful stories i’ve ever had the pleasure of experiencing 💖

(special mention to the fact that the main character is a lesbian, which is something i would never even think to wish for because it’s so uncommon in games of this genre. ellie is everything i’ve ever wanted from gay rep, meaning that she’s literally just existing as a gay person and her sexuality has hardly anything to do with the plot. i fucking love how she has a detailed story, a rich personality, and complicated relationships while she just happens to be a lesbian. it’s literally perfect, no notes!)

[twisted-wonderland-but-gayer]

Hii this is the anon who had no ideas for twisted wonderland OCs no more you have unlocked the idea corner😈

- Water haired Jellyfish

A lab experiment who was taken at 8 and ran away at 12. They stumbled upon a mountain village and lived there before encountering The Eldridge horror once more however much calmer of a meeting when their first as the jellyfish decides they will take care of them too. They have the tiredness of silver however far more smiley than him. Can attack with their hair lol and also the tired and forgetful tendencies come from being tampered with as a child. (Friend with octo trio bc their in the same dorm).

- Eldridge horror mage(They have eyes on their hands and a mix of praying mantis antennas and fish wings and a mouth on multiple places (stomach/ neck/ arm)

The type to just stare straight into your soul and can definitely climb ceilings. Grew up in the forest as a black inky monster for a few hundred years before stumbling upon a human with black hair (jellyfish before the jelly)sworn to protect the human because of the human nursing him back to health. Definitely more of an observer with most personality traits coming from jellyfish.( who’s personality is based on silver).

- Human boy with high running speed (19 and definitely repeated his second year)

Literally a hole slay, wears pink everyday and dresses in y2k, the human flirts with ^ the Eldridge horror in Amazement. The human is a researcher that came to twisted wonderland when they were 14 transported to sunset savana so tans lines and adventured across near into the slums eventually meeting the cat siblings and their parents and lived with them until night raven. Also definitely gets into trouble with Bat cat. They carry around a notepad and a brief case full of hidden wonders and is known as a beast tamer to most of the school for the mystical creatures they’ve tamed. (Has the personality of Juliet from Lollipop Chainsaw bc I want them too. And the personality that’s heavily similar to nick is the harpy lol so ship tho I don’t see it honestly tho they are best friends.)

- Sweet black cat (They have a mouth on their stomach so definitely not blood related to bat cat plus bat cat is well a bat.🤔)

The sweetest boy you’ll ever meet, raised in a powerful household they’ve always learned to be grateful. However this subjects them to multiple toxic relationships and friendships that negatively impact them (time loop of a character going from happy to depressed) however it’s a story of growth so they seek help(they overblot) because of the stress that they might mess up again and the overwhelming pressure society and their parents put them threw, they eventually get help and is the sweetest once more. (Definitely gives kalim energy but I think it’s more of a mix between trey and cater as they are far more energetic and photogenic.)

- ( no OC yet here help😭)

- Blue flamed Bunny

Based off of Cerberus from Hercules / Greek Mythology made to keep the shroud brothers safe after orthos passing. When first created they had three heads two chopped off leaving off the middle head. Obsessive with Idias safety it turns into story of bloodshed and obsession as the bunny in blue flames further ‘protects’ Idia. (Does eventually get better and learns boundaries)

- Black Sheep Alice in Wonderland

Based off of American McGee Alice with a twist. This alice grew up in wonderland as one of the red knights children being subjected to all of Wonderlands horrors and combat having to fight to stay alive, they escaped threw a well into Twisted wonderland. Being homeless for 4 years and having to starve for most of it they found themselves locked in a familiar coffin. Being tormented and scared for most of their life they were cold to everyone they met. Having overblot from being attacks once more from guards sent from wonderland they find themselves going back to their home to finish off the queen of hearts or become her. Coming back to twisted wonderland to finish their school year. (After that a lot more open and warm to people as they find new hobbies and friends.)

- Violent and demeaning Bat cat

Not based on anything however they are made to represent manipulation and tricking people with kindness (they have big yellow cat eyes to create a sense of alluring). (Also very good with kids bc they literally are the oldest of 3 (black cat) (human boy (adopted). Gets character development when azuls overblot happen as that was a close friend to them, and they slowly warm up to others when they find Azul okay.

- Silent judgment Harpy/Parrot

Like Jafars parrot this OC is very potty mouth very very rude sir (not rainbow btw I mean kinda but mostly red bc hair) and most likely helps jamil in his overblot form (they give him more power by fighting with him) because they want power as they grew up in the slums with little to nothing. To gain power is to change people and make them see. And after they are a lot calmer and talkative. However they gained some new friends ruggie and the cat siblings.

(May I be strawberry cake anon)

You may!! Also I love ur ideas for ocs they very unique. Eyeballs the eldrich horror.....

[atypical-artisan]

I made a rant in my server a bit ago about some of my ships so I'm posting them today cause they're true and I love them

Here's the burnt bread one

starting with joe:

He's had a tough life... he went to catholic school where he was shamed and bullied for being weird and disabled and different and despite his mother and sister's love, they couldn't protect him from the trauma that gave him. On top of that, he's trans, which made him even MORE vulnerable to abuse... so he decided he HAS to be 'normal', no exceptions and shamed himself away from all the things he's naturally attracted to for years.

On top of that, being trans made him more scared of his sexuality, made him feel like the only way to be a real man was to throw out all his 'feminine' traits, especially his attraction to men. This leads him into some nasty relationships.

Here, all of his partners control him, tell him that if he wants affection, he must please them and ignore his own wants because he needs to 'man up'. Even the few men he does date do this, holding themselves over him and slowly breaking his spirit under the weight of their demands of servitude.

Throughout his life, joe learns that to be loved means he must forget himself, hide and crush what makes him different and please everyone he can.

When he enters the wvba at 25, he stops dating- too busy with work. And after his first match, his one win against nick bruiser of all people, he slowly goes down. He gets weaker physically and in spirit- he can barely defend himself against people shitting on him, let alone against the other boxers. He feels pathetic, weak, and worthless.

And he DOES have the strength to fight- he's constantly protecting his friends and the things he loves, standing up to assholes for people or causes and be truly terrifying... but he can't do it for himself, because he doesn't see a reason to defend who he is

Aran has had a similar life. While he's loved by his family and some friends, the outside world has been unkind to him.

His love life has been hellish, being denied the ability to express his love to his partners because it's too weird or over the top. And when he was allowed, he was told to be grateful. He was hurt and told that it was love, forced into things he hated and told it was good for him. And again and again he tried to squeeze into the right boxes and failed. On top of all that, he's dealing with a lot of untreated trauma and mental illness but he refuses to go to doctors because he's lost all trust in them.

But, instead of curling inward on self hatred, aran responded by exploding out.

If the world didn't want him how he was- he was going to make himself completely unpalatable except to the most diehard people. He emphasized his weird, ugly ways, hoping to push all away so he wouldn't have to deal with anyone anymore. Sure, he has 'friends' but he never truly trusts them, holds them at a distance and bears his teeth when they get too close.

Aran learned love from someone who isn't his own flesh and blood was basically a lie- only found through sheer luck. He couldn't trust people and was alone in this world. He had to lie and cheat and cross his fingers because that's what living is. He bites and growls without shame and cheats because he knows he's an animal and needs to survive.

And yet, he CAN be gentle! He's gentle with children and even other people, his family, the few outside it he trusts. He lets himself cry at night when no one is around but his dog and be sad and scared, but alone.

And then... they find each other

it's tense at first

Joe doesn't know how to talk to people well and aran is untrusting and standoffish. But joe mentions dropping out young, or a horror movie and peaks aran's interest. And the more they talk the more they realize how similar their lives are. How much they understand about each other's pain and fears and lives just by sheer coincidence.

Joe takes it as a sign, aran just thinks they're the luckiest bitches on earth.

So they grow close, and by doing so, find healing.

(I have fic ideas based on some of these scenarios so :P)

Aran sees joe's weird side and embraces it, ENCOURAGES it. He pushes joe because the joy on his face when he feels free is the most beautiful thing in the world. He see's joe's anger and pushes it forward, tells him he's worth something no matter how he is and helps him learn to love himself.

And joe sees aran break, the terrifying walls he's built up crumble, and he embraces it. He holds aran and lets him cry on his shoulder. He embraces his weirdness and takes pleasure in seeing his art and his uncouth ways. And he especially loves holding him down and holding his hand when he needs it.

And goddamn do they WANT each other. They want each other so bad and have no clue how to say it because deep down they're both scared of ruining the wonderful thing they have together and losing the one thing making their lives better

Surprisingly, it's joe who cracks first.

At this point, joe's more physically healthy and confident than he's ever been in years. But stress is building up in his heart. He's so grateful for aran, he knows what the other has done for him, but others just don't see it- most of his minor circuit friends don't believe him when he says aran's been helping him and still fear aran, still try and get him away because they're sacred aran is truly the monster he presents himself to be>

But joe... he snaps- now, he's stopped caring, he KNOWS that what he wants matters and what he wants is aran

(Leading to this juicy bit of dialogue)

Joe: “You may not be what I need- you may not even be what’s good for me! But dear god you are everything I want. And for once in my life, I refuse to deny myself that!”

And fuck does aran need to hear that

He'd never known that he could not only be loved like this- or even actively WANTED as himself. So he just kisses joe and holds him, very much trying not to cry.

And in the end things turn out fine. Aran drops his walls and joe builds up his strength even more. Aran goes to therapy and gets meds and opens up for once, allowing those 'friendships' to become real and give him even more strength. Joe embraces himself and becomes so blindingly happy and free it's impossible to ignore. He stands up for himself- he fucking moves up in the circuit and matches with goddamn hondo!!

Of course, there IS a little drama when they reveal their relationship...

The minor circuit freaks a bit. Esp kaiser who gets real jelly cause he had a crush on joe.

The world circuit is supportive, even sandy who had a crush on joe too but sees how happy aran makes him and so he's happy too.

Don wants in on the relationship and fails (rip, they have enough issues sorry don).

Disco, hugger and hippo are all hesitant but chill when hondo gets some reasoning into them

And tiger is undisturbed, even a little happy now that kaiser is free.

After a while kaiser gets over it and makes up with joe and aran. He actually gets really happy for them, esp after realizing that him and who joe truly is just wouldn't be compatible as lovers but are still great friends. He actually thanks aran for helping joe become so happy and respects him a lot for it.

And they all lived happily ever after the end :)

[rookthorne]

I am binging the shit outta this ESPECIALLY WHEN I SEE HAL CARTER AMONGST THE MESS

"Hey, doll.”

Your eyes fluttered open, the sunshine warm on your face as you gazed up at the man above you, a soft smile on his features as his hair hung down and eclipsed his face.

I want it to be true 😭😭😭

And in the best moments, you'd get frisky under a padded blanket. It was in those moments you'd found true happiness. You'd found love. But the problem in finding love was that it was so easy to lose in a matter of moments. The truest sorrow of death was that love was proven more than anything.

that line.

that LAST FUCKING LINE 😭

"I'm dreaming, aren't I?"

It's too good to be true. This happiness, it was too perfect. Life had never allowed you much reprieve.

“I don’t see a way out of this, James. I’m mated to Nick. He can control me without even trying.”

James tilted his head, continuing to wipe away your tears. “Can he, though?”

ohhhh 👀

“You’re the strongest gal I’ve ever met,” He tapped your temple with a sad smile. “You just have to fight him.”

“I... but how?”

“Think of us, what we had, what we were destined to have. Even without me in the picture, you’ve lost everything. And that is exactly why you can fight back. He can’t control someone who has nothing to live for,” James’ words felt like a tonne of bricks in your stomach, a heavy pit forming.

wow. woooow. nope. no tears yet.

“Because then Nick Fowler wins. He would have destroyed both of us. You’ve got so much courage, doll. And the most courageous thing you can do is live,” James said softly, his words delivered gently despite their weight. “Plus, you have to find Steve. We’re all he had,”

EXCUSE ME?!?!

HOLD THE PHONE

WHERE. IS. STEVE?!?!

His lips found yours again, the kiss melancholic as you knew this had to end. Nothing good ever lasted long for you.

🥺🥺🥺

Roses with thorned stalks rose from the ground, the petals a beautiful crimson, the flowers just like Nick’s tattoos. You could hear the ticking of a clock, the sound signalling that time was running out. With each tick, you held tighter onto James, the stems getting closer and closer with each passing second.

NO! SHOO!

Death was brutal and cruel, unforgiving in how it wrenches people from your existence. But he was safe, at least. James didn’t have to face any more horrors while you were consumed by the primitive evil that was Nick Fowler. 

you’re seriously killing these 😎 lines

“I love you,” you wept as your body began to be dragged into the dirt below, the ground moving around you like quicksand.

“I love you too. We’ll see each other again one day, doll. It’ll be okay.”

LOOK IT’S NOT OKAY TO GET ME THIS QUICK 😭

A bird in a gilded cage was still denied its freedom, no matter how embellished its captor made it.

dude.

😎😎😎

Light bled through the curtains like a fresh wound, gnarly and grotesque, much like the maim to your soul. It illuminated the room, the light making you aware of the stark greys of the bedroom. Perhaps it was supposed to be chic, the way the walls and furniture matched a muted colour palette. But all it did was reflect the desolateness of the situation; the world reduced to nothing more than shades.

You hoped that James would burst through the door with Steve by his side and that they would take you out of this hell hole and back to your everyday life.

AHHHH I WANT IT TO HAPPEN SO BAD 😭

what is Steve’s connection to her? 👀🤔

It wasn't until you got out of the shower that your determination became set. Nick Fowler would not win. Think of James , you told yourself. Just like he said in your dream. Perhaps it wasn’t a dream but a premonition. A communication with the dead.

I have a bad feeling, Amber. I’m nervous.

“What the—” The alpha said, stunned as you dashed past him. Mace, distracted as he searched the closet for clothes, whipped his head around just in time to see you rush out the bedroom door.

she’s not gonna make it! 😩

“’Til the end of the line, sweetheart,” James. This is the man who took James from you. He’s no alpha of yours.

my heart is shattering over this oh my god

I can feel the desperation and it makes me wanna break down in tears

The way Nick felt didn't help. There was anger, disappointment, and hurt. Not that he’d admit to the last one. His omega was rejecting him. A prime alpha rejected by their omega was a pitiful sight and one that Nick would never want anyone else to see. For a man so powerful, in this moment, he was entirely weak to you.

GOOD! FUCKING BREAK HIM!

“You’re lucky I didn’t use my loaded gun, omega. I don’t even care about you. I should kill you,” The frustration was apparent, an edge of confusion in his tone, unsure as to why his commands weren’t working. If anything, they should be stronger now that you’re bonded. But why did he care anyway? What made you so special?

“Yeah, but you won’t, because you do fucking care, asshole. Otherwise I would have died with my lover,” You spat, fire in your eyes as he edged closer. Your entire lower half was becoming unusable, but you still tried to drag yourself over the ground despite how it cut into you.

FUCKING TELL HIM GIRL! TELL HIM!

”I can see why that useless waste of space you called an alpha never mated you. Did you act like a fucking brat with him too?” The words shouldn’t hurt. You shouldn’t care what Nick says. But they were like knives piercing your skin regardless, worse than the gravel below.

“He deserved my respect. You deserve nothing. You are nothing.”

I got chills. GOOSEBUMPS!

”Maybe your alpha would be alive if you behaved yourself and paid more attention to him.”

you sick sonofabitch LEMME AT HIM

FUCKING LEMME AT HIM

“Why bite when I can scratch, alpha ?” You snapped before using your waning strength to slash at Nick. He laughed, easily dodging you, only one swipe brushing his cheek. Your nails left a red mark, and it spurred you on more.

For once, he wasn't in control. How the mighty have fallen.

oh my fucking god

I have literal goosebumps right now

You expected Nick to take you to the bedroom and cage you, but your brows furrowed as you were brought to the living room. He was silent now, and that was almost scarier than his anger. He was plotting something that surely wouldn’t be good for you.

NO!

Amber, I know your style by now, NO!

“I’m going to talk to Kemp. He’ll know. And if he doesn’t, Hal will have an idea.”

“Hal is a softie,” Mace interjected with a dry chuckle.

“Yeah, but have you seen how Ari’s omegas listen to him? They dote on him,” Beck commented, running a hand through his short hair, his forehead creased from stress.

OKAY ALL MY INHIBITIONS WENT OUT THE DOOR WITH HAL MENTIONED

By now, the dogs had joined as well. Apollo, Icarus and Hermes sat a few feet away, just watching what was happening.

“She’s fine,” Beck murmured to the dogs, three sets of ears perking up at his words. “Yeah yeah, I know. But she brought this upon herself.”

doggos… must. pat. doggos.

Shadows cast over the dark mahogany furniture, creating more demons for you to contest with. You never were a fan of the dark, and certainly not now.

I’m honestly scared, she’s got a storm coming and I AM SCARED

Hours passed, and you started to hone in on the ticking rhythm of the clock, imagining it as a tempo for you and James to dance to. He always loved dancing. You’d been excited to take him to the local dance that was run every spring, but you never did get that chance.

fuck 😭

He approached slowly, watching the way your eyes flitted between the food and him. It was clear Nick thought you would give in as he approached, a smug look on his face.

mate, have you learned anything? seriously? 🤦🏼‍♀️

When he was within range, you used all your strength to throw your legs out and kick the bowl from his grasp, the porcelain shattering to the ground with a smash.

HOW DID HE NOT SEE THAT COMING?!?!

Nick’s fists clenched and unclenched like he was deciding whether to hit you or not before he seemingly remembered something. He didn’t touch you. Instead, wordlessly, he pivoted on his heel and left, leaving you and the discarded food without further consideration.

That was the last time you saw anyone for two days.

fucking clever bastard

Your heart leapt in your chest when Nick eventually re-emerged, his clothes different. You’d never seen him out of a suit, his muscly form adorning a plain blue t-shirt and black jeans. The clothes clung to him like you wished to. Your alpha. Your hindbrain was ecstatic at the sight of him. Pushing against your designation, you shoved all the feelings down deep. No, you could not desire the man who ruined your life. 

okay, I would break

I’m sorry

I would shatter

“I can hear your stomach, puppy. Hungry little thing, aren’t you?” Nick mocked, but he was right. You were ravenous.

no

nonononono

BE STRONG

“Have it your way,” Nick said simply, placing his hands in his pockets as he kicked the discarded fruit away from your feet. He was so close, you could feel his body heat, and it had you wanting to lean in. “Uh-uh. Bad dogs don’t get pats.”

GET YOUR ASS BACK THERE YOU DIPSHIT AND HELP HER

I KNOW YOU HAVE IT IN YOU YOU SICK SONOFABITCH

The longer you were left untouched, the worse your mental state became. The anxiousness was quickly met with a deep depression that settled into your bones and brought upon an acute sadness that infected you like a disease. 

no 🥺

It was torture. A brutal tactic that was breaking you down with each tick of that fucking clock. You growled into the air. Oh, how you wanted to break that clock. Tear it to shreds and leave nothing but cogs behind. Because every time you tried to escape reality, the ticking would wrench you back. 

…clockwork 👀

When you heard footsteps, you assumed they would merely pass by as they usually did, but your eyes fluttered open when the feet stopped in the doorway. Your eyes met Mace’s hardened gaze. It was the first time you’d seen him since you were put on the wall, and you instinctively wanted to hug him. Alpha’s best friend. Alpha’s best friend is your best friend . He watched the way your brows furrowed, and tears welled in your eyes before breaking away to begin lighting the candles that sat on the mantle. 

he’s a hardass you would have better luck with Beck!

Why did he clean up? Why turn the lights on? It became more apparent when there was a new voice in the home. One you recognised from the night of the auction. 

OH NO! NO!

“It’s good you booked this for tonight. I don’t think she’d last much longer otherwise,” You hated how Steve spoke as if you were not there, and a growl left you when you opened your eyes to see his hand on Nick’s shoulder. No, you needed that touch. It’s not fair. At the same time, you wanted to rip Nick’s throat out and force-feed him it. 

BOOKED WHAT?!?!

WHAT?!?!?!

Steve merely chuckled, and the men left the same way they came. You wriggled in your binds to no avail. Your body was so exhausted you could barely move. Before long, more footsteps and voices were chatting in the entryway. You recognised Lee, Charles, Ransom, Chase and Robert, all from the auction. But there were new ones too. Three voices you didn’t know that mingled in with the rest. What were they all doing here?

Amber… what are you doing

“Now, now, that’s no way to talk to guests, is it? And you can’t even address your alpha correctly, tsk ,” a new man entered with Charles and Chase close behind. His shades covered his eyes, but the way his thick moustache curved with his smirk told you all you needed to know. He wasn’t a good person.

LLOYD YOU SICK FUCK GET OUTTA THERE BEFORE I YANK YOU OUT BY YOUR EARS

“I think we can forgive her for being rude given the circumstances, don’t you think?” Yet another two men entered, and your head was beginning to swirl with the number of alpha scents in the room. The man looked rough and rugged as if he worked hard and was weathered by it.

is that who I think it is…

“I think Hal is right, Lloyd. Give the omega a break for being flustered,” Hal’s companion said as he made his way to the table, taking one of the caviar toasts to snack on.

IT IS 😭😭😭

HAL 😭

“Fuck off! All of you! Leave me alone. You’re all fucking bastards. Stupid knotheaded bastards.”

Suddenly, all the attention was on you. No more chuckles or snide comments, just the piercing gaze of eleven alphas and the one beta, Steve. Your heart lurched, the intensity sudden.

oh no… oh no oh no oh no

“Drinks, anyone?” Hal’s companion broke the silence, and the men eased, tense shoulders releasing.

“Yeah, Ari. Good idea,” Chase kept his eyes on you as he made his way to the table. 

ARI

ARIIIIIII 😭😭

“Shh, shh. You’ll only make it worse for yourself,” Beck soothed into your ear, but you could hardly hear it with your heavy cries.

PLEASE NO

“No,” You shook your head. No. No way. But with the way the ticking clock buzzed in your brain and touch starved sensory overload took over when Steve gripped your jaw and squeezed painfully, you started to lose your fight as your mouth opened.

NO NO NO GET AWAY YOU SICK BASTARD!

Nick you fucking sleazeball! WHAT THE FUCK?!?!

“You’re alright. C’mon, that’s it, good girl. Good fucking girl.”

jfc HAL NO

STOP THAT 🥵

“Are we that scary that you’re trying to run?” Chase leant in close to the shell of your ear, playfully nipping at it. “Oh, I can be really frightening if you want.”

There was something else there. A supernatural sense that chilled you to the bone. You looked at him with wide eyes, but he merely looked smug with a quirk of his head. “Aren’t you curious to know what it is? Want to have a scare, little omega?”

“Stop it, Chase. Don’t fuck with her,” Mace interjected, cutting Chase off, who merely pouted in response.

“Fuck her, not fuck with her. Got it,” Chase gave a charismatic smile, leaning down to lick a stripe across your cheek before rubbing his cock over it, so his saliva smeared all over your skin.

what. the. fuck.

OKAY

you seriously conveyed Chase’s sinister motives perfectly.

I got chills. I don’t like him.

Every time you closed your eyes you saw flashes of James holding his hand out to you. Please . Please get me out of here. But he was no more than a ghost now. There was no one who could save you now.

“If you’re broken, you won’t know any better anymore.”

The picture of James began to warble, his face becoming obscured and replaced. Instead of your lover, it was your alpha. Nick. You needed him more than ever.

he fucking did it, he’s starting to break her 😭

Your mind was becoming another for the world’s graveyard of broken souls. Discarded, crossed by everyone around them, unmet with mercy. But this meant you could let go. You would never move on, but you didn’t have to in order to be free. While you would never move from the loss and grief, you could let go. And perhaps that gave you a chance at a gilded freedom provided by your alpha.

Is it so bad to just want to be happy?

You were a bird with golden wings, feathers so bright it left others in awe, and song so sweet it had others listening intently. Your intentions were pure. All you ever wanted was to love and be loved, live a simple life and find some happiness. But that was rare in this world. Not many held the purity of joy that you did. And so, you’d become imprisoned. A bird fluttering, confined by the bars of your alpha.

as beautiful as the realisation is depressing, you seriously have one hell of a gift for this.

It was easy to hate Nick Fowler. To engrave the words ‘ I hate you ’ onto your heart. But to let go, to allow yourself to find whatever slither of happiness awaits you, you could not hate. It was simply too painful. A burden you could not bear. Not anymore.

The world was beginning to fracture at the sides, your mind hardening as the cracks started to form. You weren’t going to last like this. And that was okay.

“It’s okay. You’ll be okay. Let go, baby. Let go,” James’s voice rang in your head, and you howled louder than ever.

I’m fucking tearing up so bad I can barely see

“Aw, sunshine. You’re shaking like a leaf,” Lloyd laughed, squatting before you, biting on the end of his sunglasses before he looped them through the front of his shirt. “I haven’t even touched you yet.”

I hate him. I hate him and I hate Chase.

“They’re hurting her,” Mace snapped, and you reached out your free hand towards them despite the way your body was beginning to give way.

HE HAS A HEART AFTER ALL?!?!

“Watch it, Ransom,” Beck growled, Mace barely holding him back from approaching.

“What? She’s a stupid—”

“She isn’t yours to insult,” Beck spat, only backing down when Ransom raised his hands in concedement.

I am so conflicted right now.

I’m yelling in my head for them to fucking do something, but also THEY BOTH HAVE HEARTS?!?!

He smiled at you. A genuine smile that had warmth flowing through your bond. He’d got what he wanted. You. Broken. And now his to put back together.

my heart hurts for her 🥺

Nick’s large palm cupped your cheek, and he leaned in close. His rings were cold against your hot flesh, which was a soothing feeling. “Tell me what you want. What you need, little pup.”

he better fucking stay soft towards her or I will beat the shit out of him.

You wanted to be as far away from the other alphas as possible. The whole way up, Nick spoke to you like a new pet. “Such a pretty pup, aren’t you? My pretty pup. I can’t wait to give my sweet puppy a shower. Silly little thing, getting all dirty.”

beating my inner whore BACK INTO HER BOX! NO!

“That’s it, puppy. Let your alpha take care of you.” Nick’s words were entirely possessive, and it only further ingrained his hold over you. Your alpha.

oh, I’m fucked. so fucked.

“Bite me,” Nick hissed, and you pulled back in shock. “You heard me. Bite me, omega. Right fucking now.”

OH DAMN?! THAT SOON?!

Lost in the lust and the way it made your brain haze, your brows furrowed. Surely he didn’t mean his mating spot. You went to bite his shoulder, away from his mating gland, but Nick harshly slapped your ass in response, earning a squeak from you. “Don’t make me ask again, omega. Bite me .”

well, fuck. I’ll be damned!

You blinked, back in reality. Nick placed you on the counter, drying you with care. “There she is. Where’d you go?”

👀👀👀

Apollo came up and sniffed at your hanging feet, tickling your toes when he licked at you. You giggled, and it had the dogs ears perking up. 

“Go on, you can pet him.” Nick lowered you so you could kneel on the floor and give Apollo some pats. Hermes and Icarus quickly joined, all revelling in the attention from you.

YES I KNEW IT WOULD HAPPEN EVENTUALLY 🥹

As he did, you couldn’t stop staring at the clock piece on his hand.

“Why two am?” You asked, eyeing the time on his tattoo.

oh?

Nick let out a sigh, picking at the sandwich as he kept giving you small bites. He pulled you against his chest so you couldn’t see his expression. “I failed to save my mother and sister at two am.”

oh.

The answer confused you. Nick was acting kindly towards you now and obviously cared about the women in his family. “But then... Why do the work you do? If you lost your family to violence?”

she is getting very bold in asking questions…

“Life is nothing more than sex and violence and a mix of resonance and quiet. But you bring me song, omega. A soft melody that warms my heart. The ends justify the means.”

this is poetic as fuck

but I do not agree with him in one bit! 🤣

“My mother would have loved you. She always loved the smell of roses; you have that beautiful scent. She’d tend to our garden every day. It’s as if you sprouted from my memory of her. I knew from the moment I scented you that I had to have you. You make me happy.”

…hmm

You wondered if you’d dream. Perhaps you would dream of the sweet reprieve of death, something you’d thought about many times since you’d come to Nick Fowler's domain.

But as you thought about it, the idealism of perishing no longer seemed captivating. 

You wanted to wake up to your alpha, and continue to live with him. Live for him. For he was all you needed in this sick world.

I am so conflicted. So, so conflicted.

Right as you drifted to a state of rest, Nick snuggled in close, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Fight me again, omega, and the consequences will be worse than your most horrifying nightmare. You’re mine. There’s no escaping that now. Sleep knowing your world is mine.”

okay, so we have established he is still a sick fuck. understood. 🤣🤣🤣

WOW.

just… wow.

I gotta admit that scene was tough to read, because I could feel what she felt, but I also couldn’t look away.

The juxtaposition of Nick and his men is hella interesting… I really can’t wait to know more. Especially since there is nice doggos. 😌

𝒊 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖

✧˚ · . 𝘋𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘕𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘍𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘨𝘢 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘶𝘣𝘮𝘪𝘵.

main pairing — mob boss!alpha!nick fowler x omega!reader other featured characters — james mace, chris beck, steve kemp, charles blackwood, ransom drysdale, chase collins, lee bodecker, robert pronge, ari levinson, hal carter, lloyd hansen w/c — 14.8k this is a dark explicit fic. 18+ only. part of the Clockwork AU.

warnings — non-con (blowjobs, handjobs, unprotected sex), dub-con (unprotected sex, female orgasm), a/b/o dynamics, Nick Fowler being a cunt, misogyny/treating omegas as lesser, references to death, suicidal ideations, references to anxiety and depression, caging, manhandling/mild violence against reader, chase, mild injury to reader, pet names (pup, puppy, sweets, sunshine, little omega, ducky), degradation, use of stress positions, minor medical references (needles administered), gangbang, bukkake, neglect of reader (touch starving), mention of wanting to throw up (no actual vomit), mental torture and stress to the point of breakdown a/n — big big thank you to @sweeterthanthis and @dreamlessinparis for beta-ing this beast and dealing with my inability to stay in one tense lol. all mistakes and bullshit are mine. also big thank you to @navybrat817 for helping with the brainstorming. without you, this fic wouldn't have come to life

Depressed again Morning comes too fast and I'm tired of the routine Depressed again Let me sit alone in the tone that you crave Angry again No, I don't wanna have a conversation with you Angry again Let me sit alone with the kerosene I don't even care about you ↳ I don't even care about you by Missio

"Hey, doll.”

Your eyes fluttered open, the sunshine warm on your face as you gazed up at the man above you, a soft smile on his features as his hair hung down and eclipsed his face.

Was this heaven?

"James?" You questioned, disbelief flowing through you at the sight of him. He looked far different to the last time you saw him. No injuries marred him. He looked just as you had always known him. 

"Who else would it be, silly? You fell asleep while I was getting the rest of the stuff from the car," James chuckled as you sat up, your fingers running across the picnic mat below you. The feeling of the fabric was familiar, and it caused a smile to dance across your lips. You'd always loved the picnics you'd had with your alpha. It was playful and fun, the two of you snacking before cuddling beneath the sun's warmth.

And in the best moments, you'd get frisky under a padded blanket. It was in those moments you'd found true happiness. You'd found love. But the problem in finding love was that it was so easy to lose in a matter of moments. The truest sorrow of death was that love was proven more than anything.

James sat the picnic basket beside you before quickly tugging you into his lap.

You blinked, taking in the view of the park surrounding you. Only the two of you and the flowers blooming across the landscape, nothing more than a subtle breeze in the air.

Your eyes scanned over the flowers, looking at the different coloured petals. It was as if ink had infused them with their hues, providing life to something that would be otherwise dull. 

Oh, it felt good.

Warmth surrounded you, Jame's bulky frame providing you comfort as he nuzzled into your neck to scent you, his hand resting against your stomach.

He let out a low hum, the sound reverberating across your skin like your favourite song.

You let out a sigh as you relaxed against him, eyes fluttering closed as you just let yourself be in the moment.

"You're not gonna fall asleep again, are you?" James chided, poking at your side with his right arm, eliciting giggles from you.

You opened your eyes to face him. His deep azures gazed at you as you ran your hands through his hair, bringing your palms forward to cup his cheeks.

"I'm dreaming, aren't I?"

It's too good to be true. This happiness, it was too perfect. Life had never allowed you much reprieve.

"Does it matter?" James pulled your leg around, so you were sitting in his lap, your face close before you allowed yourself to let go.

Your lips brushed over each other's, testing the waters before your hands brought his face to yours.

The kiss started slow, two souls connecting between planes. But the crushing weight of reality quickly turned you more passionate.

It felt so real. You didn't want this to end.

Time seemed to flow indiscriminately as you kissed James, your tears beginning to trickle down your cheeks after a few minutes with your alpha.

He pulled away with a coo. "Hey, hey, doll. You're alright,”

"He’s going to take me away from you. I don’t…I don’t want to wake up Jamie. I want to stay here with you,” You sniffled, and James brought up the arm of his sweatshirt to dry your tears.

“That’s not the way life works, sweetheart. You have to go back,”

You couldn’t. Not after the auction, not after seeing the beast that was your mate.

You huffed, resting your hands on his waist with a shake of your head. “That’s not fair,”

“I know. I know, love. But life isn’t meant to be fair. It’s a struggle against the odds, but that doesn’t mean you can’t change the course of your life,” James reassured, but it felt like a lie.

“I don’t see a way out of this, James. I’m mated to Nick. He can control me without even trying.”

James tilted his head, continuing to wipe away your tears. “Can he, though?”

“What?” Your brows furrowed, fingers clinging to James like he was your lifeline.

“You’re the strongest gal I’ve ever met,” He tapped your temple with a sad smile. “You just have to fight him.”

“I... but how?”

“Think of us, what we had, what we were destined to have. Even without me in the picture, you’ve lost everything. And that is exactly why you can fight back. He can’t control someone who has nothing to live for,” James’ words felt like a tonne of bricks in your stomach, a heavy pit forming. Because despite him being right, you did have nothing to live for. You’d lost everything, and you’d hit rock bottom. The concept of standing up against a prime alpha was almost too scary to comprehend.

It would be easier to just cease the fight. End the pain.

“Why don’t I just kill myself then?” You asked with beady eyes, and James let out a sad hum, contemplating his next words.

“Because then Nick Fowler wins. He would have destroyed both of us. You’ve got so much courage, doll. And the most courageous thing you can do is live,” James said softly, his words delivered gently despite their weight. “Plus, you have to find Steve. We’re all he had,”

Your gaze dropped to your hands, fiddling with the hem of James’ sweatshirt as you frowned. “And what if I lose? What if he breaks me?”

“Then you live happily the best you can. If you’re broken, you won’t know any better anymore,” James gently took your chin, tilting your head up so your eyes would meet his. 

His lips found yours again, the kiss melancholic as you knew this had to end. Nothing good ever lasted long for you.

Would this be the last time you’d see him?

Roses with thorned stalks rose from the ground, the petals a beautiful crimson, the flowers just like Nick’s tattoos. You could hear the ticking of a clock, the sound signalling that time was running out. With each tick, you held tighter onto James, the stems getting closer and closer with each passing second.

You pulled back with a hiccuped sob despite how much you just wanted to keep his lips on yours. When had you started crying again?

“James… I’m not ready to go back, please.”

James didn’t have anything to say this time. All he could offer was a woeful smile as the vines began to wind around your limbs, cutting into you and slicing around your flesh.

There wasn’t anything he could do to make this better.

After all, he wasn’t even real. The James you loved was dead.

Death was brutal and cruel, unforgiving in how it wrenches people from your existence. But he was safe, at least. James didn’t have to face any more horrors while you were consumed by the primitive evil that was Nick Fowler. 

The thorns cut into your skin, tearing across your torso and limbs as they wrapped around you like a snake ready to kill.

You began to be pulled away from James, and despite your hold on him, the roses were stronger. 

“I love you,” you wept as your body began to be dragged into the dirt below, the ground moving around you like quicksand.

“I love you too. We’ll see each other again one day, doll. It’ll be okay.”

You wanted to believe James, but as the earth began to swallow you up, you knew it was unlikely.

The chance of beating Nick Fowler is minuscule, but you’d still try. You’d try for James. For what you should have had, the life you lost.

Dirt began to fill your lungs as your head was pulled under, your blood mixing in with the brown soil, making a muddy mess.

The last thing you remember was hearing a wolf howl and the clock’s ticking stopped.

Consciousness came to you with fright, heart hammering in your chest and tears in your eyes. You whacked your head against the cage wall in your abrupt wake, pain radiating through your forehead from the impact. The thick, black steel bars clanged like they were laughing at your pain. 

A whimpered ouch left you as you lay back down. Your dress from the auction still filled most of the cage, the tulle scratching against your skin uncomfortably. The emerald made you look luxurious, but you doubted being shoved in a cage was doing you many favours in looking the part Nick wanted you to play. Or maybe that’s precisely the image he wanted. A shattered omega.

The diamond choker Nick had gifted you laid next to you. It must have broken off during the night when you tossed and turned, as it was already damaged when you went to sleep. 

You threw it out of the cage with a huff, watching it skid off the rug and across the hardwood. 

A bird in a gilded cage was still denied its freedom, no matter how embellished its captor made it.

The choker was a show of ownership, and the last thing you wanted was to be reminded of your mate. The rejection of your alpha had your bond throbbing, the scarred flesh on your neck hurting with each ebb of anger that flowed through you. You hoped Nick could feel it and that it was irritating for him.

You would rather Nick treated you like his auctioned omegas so there was no veil. At the end of the day, you were just another object for him.

Light bled through the curtains like a fresh wound, gnarly and grotesque, much like the maim to your soul. It illuminated the room, the light making you aware of the stark greys of the bedroom. Perhaps it was supposed to be chic, the way the walls and furniture matched a muted colour palette. But all it did was reflect the desolateness of the situation; the world reduced to nothing more than shades.

The plushness of the pink and blue blankets below you provided little comfort, but you ignored the soreness in your muscles as you stared at the ceiling, the dark grey paint obscured by the bars of your cage.

Time passed, the sun beginning to rise higher in the sky. It had to be at least mid-morning, and your stomach rumbled. You hadn’t eaten since before the auction yesterday, although the thought of eating anything made you feel sick. Everything about your situation made you nauseous.

You hoped that James would burst through the door with Steve by his side and that they would take you out of this hell hole and back to your everyday life. But when the door opened, you were met with the sight of Beck and Mace. You barely spared them a glance before returning to eyeing the ceiling like it was the most exciting thing in the world.

“Stop sulking. You brought this upon yourself,” Mace sighed, moving to unlock your cage. When you didn’t move to get out or acknowledge their presence, Mace clutched your ankle and began to drag you out.

“Get off me,” you snarled, trying to cling to the bars as the dress tulle scratched your skin, but Beck was one step ahead. He pried your fingers off the bars while Mace pulled, and you had no chance as you were dragged from the enclosure. While the cage kept you inside, it also kept others out, and now you had to face your nightmares.

“Don’t you want a shower and a piss? Why are you making this such a fucking chore?” Mace growled as you began flailing. You could feel Nick through your bond, his emotions egging you to calm down. But you didn’t want to calm down. You wanted to go home. To your real home, not this prison.

Beck picked up the discarded choker, lips pursed as he looked at it, examining if it could be fixed while Mace wrangled you to your feet despite your protests. “Fuck off, get the fuck off me!”

Mace’s lips ghosted by the shell of your ear as he pulled your hands behind you, leading you towards the bathroom, his voice scarily low. “Twenty minutes. Clean yourself up and get it together. If you come out a nice fucking omega, I won’t tell Nick about this. Although I’m sure he can already feel it all.”

With little grace, Mace pushed you into the bathroom, your feet stumbling over the tile until you steadied yourself on the marble sink counter. The door closed behind you, the locks clicking. You didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of doing as they said, but you really needed to relieve yourself and freshen up. Especially if you were going to have any chance of fighting them.

As you suspected, each drawer in the bathroom was locked with a fingerprint pad, the light flashing red and beeping at you when you tried to open it. Nick really had thought of everything. On the shower shelf sat everything you needed anyway. Begrudgingly, you moved through the motions. You didn’t allow your thoughts to wander. There was too much pain threatening to bleed in past the edges of your mind.

As you struggled to take the dress off and get the shower running, all you thought about was James. The way he’d hold you and love you. To Nick, it might appear you’re calming down with how your emotions turn to yearning as the water washed over you. But the desire wasn’t for your mated alpha. It’s for the alpha you lost. 

It wasn't until you got out of the shower that your determination became set. Nick Fowler would not win. Think of James, you told yourself. Just like he said in your dream. Perhaps it wasn’t a dream but a premonition. A communication with the dead.

As you began to work yourself up, your fists clenched by your sides, the adrenaline started to spike. They hadn’t left you any clothes, but that didn’t matter. You’d be faster without anything slowing you down anyway. You tore some of the fabric from the dress to pull your hair back so it wouldn’t get in the way.

“Times up,” Beck called, and you knew this was it. This was your chance. You got ready to bolt when he cracked the door open. And once he’d opened it enough for you to fit through, you pounced. The rush hit you all at once, and you quickly sprinted past Beck’s form and under the arm on the door.

“What the—” The alpha said, stunned as you dashed past him. Mace, distracted as he searched the closet for clothes, whipped his head around just in time to see you rush out the bedroom door.

“Omega! Stop!” Mace tried to command you. But he’s not your alpha; now that you’ve got a mate, his orders don’t work on you.

Without looking back, you ran into the hall, following the trail that Beck took you on when he walked you down the night before. There are rushed steps behind you, but it doesn’t deter you as your feet slapped against the floor in your sprint. You can feel Nick homing into your bond, his ire clear. And you know he’s close. He’s in the house. Stop. Enough. The bond tells you, but a flash of James’ face in your mind’s eye helps to eclipse the order.

You managed to reach the front door, throwing it open with a slam before running onto the gravelled front path. The rocks of the driveway tore into your feet, the cold air hitting your naked form like a tidal wave. There was a slight patter of rain beginning, the type you’d love to be curled in bed under the plush covers to listen to, but instead, you were running for your life.

“Omega. Stop right now,” Nick’s booming voice hit your ears, and your legs faltered for a second. No. No.

“’Til the end of the line, sweetheart,” James. This is the man who took James from you. He’s no alpha of yours.

You managed to get your legs moving, picking up into a sprint as your heart hammered like a panicked mouse in your chest.

“Stop running right now,” Nick yelled again, but you didn’t even register the command, James’ voice cooing to you in your head.

You could feel the trickle of blood as the bond opened into a fresh wound the more you rejected the commands of your alpha. You were denying your very physiology, and it wasn't without consequences. Everything hurt, and the throbbing in your neck felt like needles were being sharply stabbed where Nick’s teeth had dug in when he claimed you.

The way Nick felt didn't help. There was anger, disappointment, and hurt. Not that he’d admit to the last one. His omega was rejecting him. A prime alpha rejected by their omega was a pitiful sight and one that Nick would never want anyone else to see. For a man so powerful, in this moment, he was entirely weak to you.

That was until you heard the shot ring off and felt a sharp sting in your left ass cheek. You stumbled to the ground, palms and knees grazing over the gravelled surface as the rain hit your back. A yowl left you as you turned to look behind you, a tranquiliser dart sticking out of your skin, a little blue feathered frill on the end.

“You fucking tranqued me?” You screamed, looking back at Nick, who was slowly approaching with the rifle in his hand.

“You’re lucky I didn’t use my loaded gun, omega. I don’t even care about you. I should kill you,” The frustration was apparent, an edge of confusion in his tone, unsure as to why his commands weren’t working. If anything, they should be stronger now that you’re bonded. But why did he care anyway? What made you so special?

“Yeah, but you won’t, because you do fucking care, asshole. Otherwise I would have died with my lover,” You spat, fire in your eyes as he edged closer. Your entire lower half was becoming unusable, but you still tried to drag yourself over the ground despite how it cut into you.

”I can see why that useless waste of space you called an alpha never mated you. Did you act like a fucking brat with him too?” The words shouldn’t hurt. You shouldn’t care what Nick says. But they were like knives piercing your skin regardless, worse than the gravel below.

“He deserved my respect. You deserve nothing. You are nothing.”

The outrage was clear as day on Nick’s face as he crouched before you, and your arms began to get tingly as the weakness spread. You knew he was going to snap back hard, and he did. 

”Maybe your alpha would be alive if you behaved yourself and paid more attention to him.”

Your mouth dropped open in shock, a pained cry leaving you as the tears began. Yeah, that hurt. It planted a seed of doubt in your mind. Was it your fault? No. You weren’t going to take the blame for a male alpha with an inflated ego. For too long, omegas took the blame simply because their voice wasn’t as loud. But not now. You wouldn’t take it.

”Aww, pup. You lost all your bite, hm? I’m disappointed. I thought you’d fight better than this.”

If the jabs about James didn’t hurt enough, the thought of disappointing your alpha added to the anguish. And it made you mad. Really, really mad.

“Why bite when I can scratch, alpha?” You snapped before using your waning strength to slash at Nick. He laughed, easily dodging you, only one swipe brushing his cheek. Your nails left a red mark, and it spurred you on more.

”You can hit harder than that, little pup. C’mon, you’re letting me down. You wanna act like a wolf? Then hurt me, but you’ll have to put in some effort, cub. You’re just making this too easy.”

Nick’s words hit hard. You let out a roar and lunged. It took all your strength to propel your body, throwing yourself against the alpha. He seemed surprised for a millisecond, and it was all you needed to swipe your nails across Nick’s face. He hissed as your talons dug through flesh, leaving trickles of blood tracking down his face. Lucky for him, his eyelids were closed when you attacked, so his eyes remained undamaged while his cheek and lip bore some nasty cuts.

It’s all you hadleft in you before the sedative rendered you useless. But it was worth it to see Nick’s face as he processed it all. For once, he wasn't in control. How the mighty have fallen.

Nick took your head into his hands, cupping his palms on either side. You were forced to look into his eyes when his bond was at its strongest. Desperation was in his wild eyes, the facade of a prime alpha with it all cracking. “Bark for me, puppy.”

Your mind screamed at you to bark. To give in.

It would be easy to play the part the world wanted you to. But to do that would be denying your own human experience. You opened your mouth, turning to the side and biting down hard on Nick’s hand.

He slapped you, one hand holding your head steady, so the impact hurt even more. It makes your brain rattle, the world shaking for a moment. Your eyes fluttered, and suddenly you weren't on the mansion path anymore. Nick had picked you up and thrown you over his shoulder. Your limbs laid dormant, unable to move due to the dart still poking out of your ass. Given the omegas he had housed in his back barn, it should have been expected he’d have non-lethal ways to capture them.

You expected Nick to take you to the bedroom and cage you, but your brows furrowed as you were brought to the living room. He was silent now, and that was almost scarier than his anger. He was plotting something that surely wouldn’t be good for you.

Beck and Mace watched from the doorway as Nick dropped you like a sack of potatoes onto the ground against the far wall. He looked  down at you, jaw clenched and let out a huff. He gave your stomach a kick, earning a winded groan from you as you couldn't even curl in on yourself, your muscles relaxed against your will.

“She’s rejecting my commands,” Nick said matter-of-factly, his gaze turning to his men. “I intend to fix that.”

“How?” Mace asked, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe, eyes flicking from you to his boss.

“I’m going to talk to Kemp. He’ll know. And if he doesn’t, Hal will have an idea.”

“Hal is a softie,” Mace interjected with a dry chuckle.

“Yeah, but have you seen how Ari’s omegas listen to him? They dote on him,” Beck commented, running a hand through his short hair, his forehead creased from stress.

“I don’t want the soft route. Get her bound. I have some calls to make.”

Nick didn't look back at you as he exited the room, but you could feel the pain in your bond. The desolation. The anger. The myriad of emotions swirling in the both of you.

Asshole.

Mace and Beck did as commanded, moving around you to take the pictures down from the wall, replacing them with metal loops. Mace left for a few minutes while Beck finished up, and he took a moment to inspect your stomach, pressing around your ribs to ensure there’s nothing out of place. By now, the dogs had joined as well. Apollo, Icarus and Hermes sat a few feet away, just watching what was happening.

“She’s fine,” Beck murmured to the dogs, three sets of ears perking up at his words. “Yeah yeah, I know. But she brought this upon herself.”

Mace returned with rope, working with Beck to bind your arms and connect the cord through the newly installed loops. Your arms were brought above your head, suspending you uncomfortably so that your toes barely touched the floor. It put a lot of pressure on your shoulders, especially with your body's dead weight beneath you.

As their last step, Beck pulled the tranquiliser dart from you, and you tried to bite him when he was close enough. He gave you a look of disappointment before leaving with Mace, the dogs following once Mace whistled for them.

You were left in the living room, nothing more than the ticking of the old grandfather clock on the opposite side of the room to keep you company. It was almost maddening listening to the tick-tocks, your head filled with the repetitive sound. The blinds were drawn, the room dark, the only light source from the hallway outside. Shadows cast over the dark mahogany furniture, creating more demons for you to contest with. You never were a fan of the dark, and certainly not now.

Over time, you regained control of your body. Your muscles started to move, and you were able to shuffle to try and find a more comfortable position. Although no stance was relaxing as you struggled to stay steady on the balls of your feet.

Hours passed, and you started to hone in on the ticking rhythm of the clock, imagining it as a tempo for you and James to dance to. He always loved dancing. You’d been excited to take him to the local dance that was run every spring, but you never did get that chance. And you’d make sure Nick paid for that lost chance by being the unruliest omega possible.

With the curtains closed, it was impossible to tell the time, and the clock was too far away to make out, so you just waited for Nick’s eventual return.

You didn't know how long it had been, but the slamming of doors indicated that Nick had emerged from his office, clearly not happy with whatever ‘advice’ he had been given by his friends. After a few minutes, he walked into the living room, sharp daggers shooting from his gaze at you. If looks could've killed, you would have been long dead. 

In his hand was a bowl of porridge, steam wafting off the top. You still hadn’t eaten, and your stomach growled at the sight and smell of the food. Even though you hated the muggy texture, your body craved just about anything.

“Are you going to be good?” Nick said coolly, his mask of calmness back. “You’ll have to be punished, but it will be easier on you if you give in now.”

He approached slowly, watching the way your eyes flitted between the food and him. It was clear Nick thought you would give in as he approached, a smug look on his face.

When he was within range, you used all your strength to throw your legs out and kick the bowl from his grasp, the porcelain shattering to the ground with a smash. Beck came rushing in from the sound, stopping when Nick raised his hand to dismiss him. “Leave it.”

You felt a sense of triumph when Nick’s jaw clicked in annoyance. You weren’t going down that easy. Not with James in the forefront of your thoughts.

Nick’s fists clenched and unclenched like he was deciding whether to hit you or not before he seemingly remembered something. He didn’t touch you. Instead, wordlessly, he pivoted on his heel and left, leaving you and the discarded food without further consideration.

That was the last time you saw anyone for two days.

Or at least what you thought was two days. It was hard to approximate with the only indication of the time the chimes on the clock. Fatigued, with no more than an hour’s sleep due to the stress position and lack of food, you were second guessing how many chimes you’d counted.

Your heart leapt in your chest when Nick eventually re-emerged, his clothes different. You’d never seen him out of a suit, his muscly form adorning a plain blue t-shirt and black jeans. The clothes clung to him like you wished to. Your alpha. Your hindbrain was ecstatic at the sight of him. Pushing against your designation, you shoved all the feelings down deep. No, you could not desire the man who ruined your life. 

Nick’s signature smirk was back, his eyes twinkling as he looked at you. He wanted you, too. That much was clear. Why he cared for you so much, you’d never understand. With the ticks in the background sounding, you looked at the clock tattoo that stood out starkly against his skin, like the rest of his ink.

Your eyes narrowed as you focused on the time. Two am. Was that on purpose? Did that time hold some significance? Or was it simply chosen at random? Your sight dragged to the bowl of fruit in his hands. Melon, strawberries, and apples,all cut into bite-size pieces. The hunger you felt hurt, as if your stomach was ready to eat itself.

“I can hear your stomach, puppy. Hungry little thing, aren’t you?” Nick mocked, but he was right. You were ravenous. The sweet tang in the air from the fruit mixed in with Nick’s strong scent had your head swirling. 

It’d been days since you’d been touched. Usually, that would be enough for any omega to start getting touch starved, let alone a mated omega being denied by her alpha. A prime alpha. Your body yearned for Nick, and it had your anger rising. No, it wasn't fair. You shouldn’t want the man who killed your partner.

Like the first time Nick visited, you kicked the bowl from his hand, flinching at the shattering sound. As you did it, there was a flash of ire in Nick’s expression, but there was something else there too. Like he expected it from you.

“Have it your way,” Nick said simply, placing his hands in his pockets as he kicked the discarded fruit away from your feet. He was so close, you could feel his body heat, and it had you wanting to lean in. “Uh-uh. Bad dogs don’t get pats.”

Nick pulled away, pupils dilated as he took in your scent. It was a punishment for him as well. Although he could get touch elsewhere, all you got was the wall against your back and the floor beneath your toes.

This time when Nick left, tears started steadily streaming down your cheeks as anxiety clutched at your heart.

It started to get much worse.

The longer you were left untouched, the worse your mental state became. The anxiousness was quickly met with a deep depression that settled into your bones and brought upon an acute sadness that infected you like a disease. 

There were often tears, howls, and whimpers. Yet you still didn’t yield when Nick visited you. You were being pulled in two directions, a tear beginning to form down your middle. Your loyalty was to James, but your body called for your alpha. 

Every time someone would walk past the doorway, or you’d hear the pitter-patter of dog paws, your heart would nearly burst. A visitor? But you were almost always met with disappointment. 

Nick didn’t allow the dogs in the living room, and the only time you saw anyone else was when Beck came to inject you with medicine or help you use a bedpan. He didn’t look you in the eyes, touch you, or speak to you. It was like a ghost was administering the vitamins and minerals you needed to stay alive while you refused food.

The days passed in a blur. As soon as the sun would bleed in around the curtains, it would disappear as nightfall came. At first, you liked the quiet of the night, only you and the owls hooting outside awake. But it quickly became your personal nightmare. Alone, with nothing but your thoughts, unable to sleep for more than a few minutes due to the pressure on your arms and balls of your feet.

It was torture. A brutal tactic that was breaking you down with each tick of that fucking clock. You growled into the air. Oh, how you wanted to break that clock. Tear it to shreds and leave nothing but cogs behind. Because every time you tried to escape reality, the ticking would wrench you back. 

The same as the days before it, the sun began to fade, and darkness began to consume the room. You closed your eyes, hoping to get some sleep. Although it was unlikely with the throbbing pain in your shoulders. When you heard footsteps, you assumed they would merely pass by as they usually did, but your eyes fluttered open when the feet stopped in the doorway. Your eyes met Mace’s hardened gaze. It was the first time you’d seen him since you were put on the wall, and you instinctively wanted to hug him. Alpha’s best friend. Alpha’s best friend is your best friend. He watched the way your brows furrowed, and tears welled in your eyes before breaking away to begin lighting the candles that sat on the mantle. 

“Mace.. help me..”

Your voice was left ignored. The candles added a soft illumination to the room. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the flickering heat, a golden amber emanating from the flames. If you touched it, you would feel something. It would hurt. But you would have chosen it. A pain you choose to bear is freedom in itself.

“Mace, alpha, please. Let me go.”

Mace didnt spare you another glance as he moved around the room, dusting and cleaning up. He even vacuumed, and it was all very odd. Nick had a maid staff for this, although you supposed they would be uncomfortable seeing a bound omega crying against the wall.

Once he was done, he flicked on the wall sconces, and your eyes shut immediately. The room is filled with light for the first time in.. well, you weren't sure. But it had been a long while. There was a buzzing behind your eyes, spots flittering across your eyelids before you braved the light. 

Your eyes opened slowly, the brightness almost painful for your poor weakened body. You were growing accustomed to the darkness, feeling as if your body was becoming one with the plaster pressed against your back. There was no hiding in the light, and Mace took a deep breath at the sight of you. 

You were a mess. Naked, bruised, with cuts all over from your attempted escape. It was a sight to behold. Mace left without a word, but you were jostled. 

Why did he clean up? Why turn the lights on? It became more apparent when there was a new voice in the home. One you recognised from the night of the auction. 

Steve walked in with Nick by his side, his lips quirking at the sight of you. Your gaze turned to Nick, vexed still in how you looked at him. But your back arched too, begging to get closer to the scent wafting from him. When you closed your eyes, you were sitting by a flower bed of geraniums with a cup of earl grey tea, and Nick was there nuzzling into your neck.

“F-Fuck.. you..” You whined. It felt as if you would die if he didn’t touch you soon. Like you’d crumble into a pile of ash for Mace to sweep up.

“It’s good you booked this for tonight. I don’t think she’d last much longer otherwise,” You hated how Steve spoke as if you were not there, and a growl left you when you opened your eyes to see his hand on Nick’s shoulder. No, you needed that touch. It’s not fair. At the same time, you wanted to rip Nick’s throat out and force-feed him it. 

“This better work,” Nick’s voice was strained, the pain clear. He’d been starved of his omega for too long. But he couldn’t just let you off like nothing happened.

“It will. Trust me.”

“I trust you with my life, Steve. But I don’t know if I trust you with hers.”

Steve merely chuckled, and the men left the same way they came. You wriggled in your binds to no avail. Your body was so exhausted you could barely move. Before long, more footsteps and voices were chatting in the entryway. You recognised Lee, Charles, Ransom, Chase and Robert, all from the auction. But there were new ones too. Three voices you didn’t know that mingled in with the rest. What were they all doing here?

Beck walked in with finger food, little meatballs that looked fancy and well-presented. Mace followed, carrying a plate with different hors d’oeuvres. Some caviar looking thing. You didn’t know what it was, but your stomach grumbled nonetheless. The alphas stayed and watched as the waitstaff brought in drinks and even more food, a complete set-up on the living room table. Last brought in was a plate of natural oysters; the fishy smell had your head reeling. The food had too many scents for your brain to handle. You needed your alpha. You needed to nuzzle into him– No. You needed to kill him. You whimpered as your brain tried to figure out what it wanted.

“Now that’s a nice noise,” Ransom mocked as he entered, a glass of whisky in hand. “You want some company that bad, huh?”

“S’needy little ‘mega. Real cute too,” Lee joined him, hand on his belt that held up his uniformed slacks.

They both looked ravished at the sight of you, like you were the finest meal. Your sounds of distress began to rise. “Go away. Where’s Nick?”

“Now, now, that’s no way to talk to guests, is it? And you can’t even address your alpha correctly, tsk,” a new man entered with Charles and Chase close behind. His shades covered his eyes, but the way his thick moustache curved with his smirk told you all you needed to know. He wasn’t a good person.

“I think we can forgive her for being rude given the circumstances, don’t you think?” Yet another two men entered, and your head was beginning to swirl with the number of alpha scents in the room. The man looked rough and rugged as if he worked hard and was weathered by it.

“I think Hal is right, Lloyd. Give the omega a break for being flustered,” Hal’s companion said as he made his way to the table, taking one of the caviar toasts to snack on. The moment you heard the crunch, you opened your mouth instinctively, desperate to eat.

“Are you not feeding this thing, Fowler?” Charles called out as Nick and Steve entered together.

They were all speaking about you, not to you. And it had your blood boiling as the myriad of other emotions began to rise to the surface. “Fuck off! All of you! Leave me alone. You’re all fucking bastards. Stupid knotheaded bastards.”

Suddenly, all the attention was on you. No more chuckles or snide comments, just the piercing gaze of eleven alphas and the one beta, Steve. Your heart lurched, the intensity sudden.

“I’ll kill all of you. The moment I get out of here, you’re all dead,” you snarled as you looked at Nick. Since you’d last seen him, he’d changed into a black button-up and suit pants.

He looked like his role. A mob boss with the power of a prime alpha. But more than anything, he looked like a man sent to the point of desperation. He was holding himself with a mask of calm, but you could feel what lay beneath the surface, the same as he could for you.

“Drinks, anyone?” Hal’s companion broke the silence, and the men eased, tense shoulders releasing.

“Yeah, Ari. Good idea,” Chase kept his eyes on you as he made his way to the table. 

Small talk restarted amongst the men, but you kept your gaze on your alpha. No one else mattered anyway. What was the point of this party? Some chance to show off his defying omega?

Nick ignored you, but you could feel the red string between you two. He was still connected whether he wanted to give you attention or not. You watched as he went and whispered something to Mace and Beck, the duo’s faces hardening.

They both looked at Nick with concern, but he shrugged them off, returning to his conversation with Steve and Lloyd. Like a hawk surveying your surroundings, your breathing began to quicken when Mace and Beck approached.

“Please, don’t touch me. I- I’ll kill you. I can’t– I need–” You couldn’t bring yourself to say it. You needed your alpha.

“You should have thought of that before you acted up, omega,” Mace snapped, but his eyes had a sense of guilt to them. 

Beck wouldn’t look at you as he and Mace worked on getting you down. When the rope went lax, you fell into Beck’s arms, your legs too weak to hold yourself up. The sobs started. You were finally feeling touch, but it was wrong. Beck’s scent wasn’t foul, but it wasn’t right. It wasn’t what you needed. 

Mace came up behind you, and his presence was all wrong too. “No, no, no. Get off!” You couldn’t struggle even if you had wanted to. After God knows how long suspended on pressure points, your muscles were weakened to the point that they were practically useless. Every time you went to swipe at the men, it was no more than a weak slap, Mace and Back wholly unperturbed.

“Shh, shh. You’ll only make it worse for yourself,” Beck soothed into your ear, but you could hardly hear it with your heavy cries.

Mace picked you up from Beck’s arms, cradling you for the room to look at. And look they did.

The scent in the air spiked into something hazardous, and every omega instinct told you to run. Danger. Nick stayed at the back of the room, sitting in one of the velvet armchairs with a glass of what looked to be straight vodka, shooing away Steve when he tried to tell him something.

Mace placed you in the centre of the room, your back hitting the plush rug. It was a different sensation from the cold wall, and it was nice to feel something warm and fuzzy for a split second. But the reprieve was short lived as the other alphas in the room began to approach. 

You tried to crawl away, but your arms and legs didn’t move despite your mind begging them to do so.

Steve crouched before you, deft fingers gripping your chin, forcing you to look at him. “I want you to think of one thing, omega. This is happening because you denied your alpha.” 

The clock ticked in the background, timed with his words, your mouth dropping into a wail.

“This,” Tick. “Is,” Tick. “Happening,” Tick. “Because,” Tick. “Of,” Tick. “You,”

Like an odd hypnosis, you blinked as Steve pulled away. Wait. What is happening?

Whistles and howls filled the room, and it had you shivering in fear before you realised it. The scent in the room turned sickly sweet, dripping with arousal. Apart from Mace, Beck and Nick, all the men in the room were palming themselves, watching how your bare chest rose and fell with each breath.

They’re not here for a social visit.

Steve pulled down the fly to his black jeans, and your stomach twisted painfully. No. Hal and Ari joined him, the three of them taking out their hardening lengths.

It wasn't  real. It was just a bad dream. This was just a nightmare, right?

“Open up, omega. And I better not feel any teeth,” Steve guided his cock to your lips, smearing the head across them. His beta scent was as powerful as the alpha’s around him, making your head pound. It was far too real to be a dream.

“No,” You shook your head. No. No way. But with the way the ticking clock buzzed in your brain and touch starved sensory overload took over when Steve gripped your jaw and squeezed painfully, you started to lose your fight as your mouth opened.

Steve didn’t give you a chance for a snide comment before he pushed himself into your wet mouth, groaning under his breath at the feeling of your tongue gliding against him.

Betas typically weren’t as well endowed as alphas, but it seemed Steve was an exception with the way he filled your mouth to the brim. Your lips stretched painfully around him, and while you were tempted to bite, the repercussions scared you too much. 

While he began working himself in your mouth, Hal spat into your hand before resting his length into it. When you didn’t move to stroke him, he wrapped his hand over yours, directing you to move your hand up and down. His ridges and veins slid across your palm, and you couldn’t wrap your whole fist around him with how thick he was.

Ari gently raised your tired legs, spreading them open so he could look at your bare pussy. He let out a low whistle as he ran his fingers up and down your folds. You tried to shake your head, but you couldn’t with Steve holding you steady.

“That’s it, ‘mega. You’re crying, but you’re so wet,” Ari breathed out, testingly pressing a finger into your awaiting heat. He was right. Your body reacted to the attention it had denied for so long despite your want to escape.

“Jesus, just fuck her already,” Robert sniped, his impatience clear as Ari stretched you open, a second and third finger added to your core. 

“I’ll fuck her when I’m ready to fuck her,” Ari snapped back. The tension between the alpha’s made you feel even more uncomfortable.

Your distress was evident when you whimpered around Steve’s cock. Hal cooed to you, thrusting into your hand and gently brushing his fingers over your arm. “You’re alright. C’mon, that’s it, good girl. Good fucking girl.”

Ari prepped you, working you open with his fingers, but you hardly registered it as your head felt underwater, drowning in the mixed scents of all the men.

Going from touch starved to suddenly overwhelmed was a horrible, nauseating feeling that had you wanting to crawl to Nick and beg for him to make it stop. But when you managed to look at him, you were met with little help. Slouched in his chair, with the dogs by his side, sat Nick. Mace and Beck situated not far from him, all observing you. 

“Don’t look at him. Eyes on me, omega,” Steve commanded, tapping your cheek until you turned your attention back to him. His thrusts into your mouth were on the side of gentle, easing himself in and out without choking you. “Remember what I said. This is all because of you.”

The tears started streaming more heavily down your cheeks as Ari pressed the head of his cock between your folds. You tried to squirm your hips away, but he held you firm. “I have no intention of hurting you. If you stay still this will be easier.”

You didn’t listen, continuing to try to writhe away. What would James think if he saw this? He’d be horrified.

The scents of the three started getting headier, along with those still waiting their turn. You could cut the air with a knife, the atmosphere rigid and palpable.

You cried as Ari bottomed out, his cock stretching you. It wasn’t like the stretch of your alpha, and the mere fact that it wasn’t your alpha was enough to have your body clenching, your walls wanting to force him out. “Fuck. So fuckin’ tight,” Ari cursed under his breath, beginning languid movements that had you seeing stars.

Like a ragdoll, your body met the needs of the three alphas. Their moans filled the room while you wished for nothing more than to sink into oblivion.

“That’s it, good girl. Good little omega. Take it nice and deep. Feels good, doesn’t it? Yeah, yeah I know it does.”

You didn’t register the words of praise, but your attention snapped back to reality when you heard Nick speak.

“Stop praising her like she’s yours,” The prime alpha ground his teeth, jaw set tight.

Ari stopped his movements, stilling inside you while his length pulsed. “None of us want her. We know she’s yours. This is business.”

“I want my omega to smell like me. She smells like you,” Hal commented, keeping your hand moving while his eyes fluttered.

The response seemed to satisfy Nick, and they quickly resumed taking what they needed from you.

It wasn’t long before you could feel them getting close, their breaths heavier, sweat beading along their brows. But before their knots could swell, they all pulled away, leaving you flustered. What.. they weren’t going to finish? You were almost grateful. Perhaps that was it.

Beck came and gave you a once over before he nodded to the rest of the men, and another three stepped up. Lee, Chase and Charles approached, their cocks already red and leaking from watching you getting used by their friends and acquaintances.

It’s almost like a party, with the guests enjoying the food, drinks and the host's omega. In a way, you were no more than food on a platter, ready for the taking. Ready to be picked at by all the guests.

Lee was rough as he settled between your legs, taking the chance to grope at your flesh and feel every curve. “Cute lil’ thing. S’fucking soft too. I can see why she’s yours, Nick.”

You turned your head to look at your alpha, your free hand gripping the carpet to try and pull yourself closer to him. Maybe if you could get there, he’d end this. You managed to flip yourself onto your stomach, but all it did was give you carpet burn when you tried to drag yourself.

“Are we that scary that you’re trying to run?” Chase leant in close to the shell of your ear, playfully nipping at it. “Oh, I can be really frightening if you want.”

There was something else there. A supernatural sense that chilled you to the bone. You looked at him with wide eyes, but he merely looked smug with a quirk of his head. “Aren’t you curious to know what it is? Want to have a scare, little omega?”

“Stop it, Chase. Don’t fuck with her,” Mace interjected, cutting Chase off, who merely pouted in response.

“Fuck her, not fuck with her. Got it,” Chase gave a charismatic smile, leaning down to lick a stripe across your cheek before rubbing his cock over it, so his saliva smeared all over your skin. It was a sickly slimy feeling that made you want to throw up, not that your stomach had any contents at the moment.

He used the makeshift lube to easily slip between your swollen lips, pressing in hard and deep until he hit the back of your throat. You choked around him, but it provoked him to do it more.

Lee lifted you so you were on all fours, giving your ass a smack that left a red hand-shaped welt in its wake. Charles helped you steady yourself before taking your hand for his use. This time you got the message, beginning to stroke him while Lee started to thrust.

Maybe if you just played along, this would all be over quickly.

The strain on your body was paramount as Lee jolted you with each brutal snap of his hips, the fabric of his uniform scratching against your ass. His hands held on so tight to your hips that there would surely be bruises. “S’fucking good. Shit. I wanna try her mouth though.”

Chase pulled out of your mouth with a grunt, his length shining with your spit. You coughed, finally able to breathe properly, some of your saliva falling into the plush rug below. 

“Messy little thing,” Charles groaned, moving to your mouth along with Lee. “Think we’ll both fit?”

“No, but it’ll be amusing to see her tryin’,” Lee snickered before his and Charles’ cocks breached your mouth.

A frail scream left you from the stretch, your eyes scrunching closed from the intrusion. They didn't fit, but they fucked into your mouth regardless. When Lee pulled back, Charles thrusted forward, and when Charles pulled back, Lee pushed in. They worked in tandem, ignoring your broken pleads that were muffled by their dicks.

Chase wasted no time in burying himself to the hilt in you, his thrusts deep and rutted like an animal chasing a primal instinct. “God, fuck, so good. Can I bite her?”

“No,” Beck and Mace snapped in unison, arms crossed as they forced themselves to watch. 

Chase shrugged, the slaps of his hips getting louder as he started getting rougher. Your ass was burning from the impact, and your lips stretched and sore. Everything hurt. Emotionally and physically.

Every time you closed your eyes you saw flashes of James holding his hand out to you. Please. Please get me out of here. But he was no more than a ghost now. There was no one who could save you now.

“If you’re broken, you won’t know any better anymore.”

The picture of James began to warble, his face becoming obscured and replaced. Instead of your lover, it was your alpha. Nick. You needed him more than ever.

Your mind was becoming another for the world’s graveyard of broken souls. Discarded, crossed by everyone around them, unmet with mercy. But this meant you could let go. You would never move on, but you didn’t have to in order to be free. While you would never move from the loss and grief, you could let go. And perhaps that gave you a chance at a gilded freedom provided by your alpha.

Is it so bad to just want to be happy?

You were a bird with golden wings, feathers so bright it left others in awe, and song so sweet it had others listening intently. Your intentions were pure. All you ever wanted was to love and be loved, live a simple life and find some happiness. But that was rare in this world. Not many held the purity of joy that you did. And so, you’d become imprisoned. A bird fluttering, confined by the bars of your alpha.

Alphas had an incessant need to conquer, to clip the wings of those around them so they felt more powerful, even if they were the privileged ones in the first place. You never stood a chance.

For James, you’d waged a war you never could have vanquished. You’d done nothing more than bring a knife to a gunfight. And the lengths Nick Fowler would go to break you had you reaching a realisation.

Letting go of James meant that he was part of your history, not your destiny. And while that was painful, keeping his memory close was weighing you down like weights on your ankles, dragging you down to the watery depths where monsters lay in wait.

It was easy to hate Nick Fowler. To engrave the words ‘I hate you’ onto your heart. But to let go, to allow yourself to find whatever slither of happiness awaits you, you could not hate. It was simply too painful. A burden you could not bear. Not anymore.

The world was beginning to fracture at the sides, your mind hardening as the cracks started to form. You weren’t going to last like this. And that was okay.

“It’s okay. You’ll be okay. Let go, baby. Let go,” James’s voice rang in your head, and you howled louder than ever.

The dogs started barking and snarling at your distress, and Nick had to hold them back by their collars to stop them from trying to protect you.

Chase’s nails dug into your hips, Lee pulled at your hair, and Charles blocked your nose. The pain bloomed like a macabre rose for your mental funeral of James, and your eyes rolled back into your head as your arms gave way. Lee looped an arm under you to hold you up while they kept fucking your mouth, your spluttered breaths ignored. 

You didn’t see how Steve whispered to Nick or how the other alphas were entranced with how your body began to shake. The incessant barks fell on deaf ears before the dogs had to be ushered out of the room by Mace. They let out whines as they were denied saving you from shattering.

The way you viewed Nick began to rapidly change. The bitterness fled like animals fleeing a bushfire at pace. The past was the past, but your prime alpha was the future. Hormones took over, your hindbrain taking control. All that was left was an omega desperate for their alpha.

The convulsions didn’t stop as you began to run out of breath, Chase fucking you like a man unhinged until his knotted base started to swell and catch at the entrance to your cunt. Your body seized. You needed your alpha’s knot, not Chase’s.

Luckily, the alpha’s did what the men before had done, letting you go just before they reached their climax. Your body was dropped to the floor on your stomach with an ungraceful oof, vision hazy as you tried to lift yourself up. But you had no energy left, everything screaming to just get to your alpha.

“Alpha,” You whimpered, and when your eyes met Nick’s, he looked at you with veiled shock. You’d called for him. After all the fighting and pain, you were calling for him. “Alpha, please.”

“Not yet, omega. You’re almost done,” Steve intervened, not allowing Nick to speak for fear that he would give in now that you were breaking for him.

After Beck checked you over, his jaw set, Ransom, Robert and Lloyd descended upon you, and their gazes were by far the darkest. The aura that oozed off them was malice, and it had you shivering from your spot on the floor.

“Aw, sunshine. You’re shaking like a leaf,” Lloyd laughed, squatting before you, biting on the end of his sunglasses before he looped them through the front of his shirt. “I haven’t even touched you yet.”

“Please, I just want my alpha,” you cried, surprised you still had tears left after the amount you’d been sobbing.

“You’ll get him. But like Stevie said, you’ve got to make us happy first,” his fingers gripped your chin, tilting your head to examine you. 

“Dibs on fucking her mouth,” Ransom cut in, taking some food from the table onto a small plate. You watched him as he took two oysters and some salmon, confused as to why he was getting food as he neared you.

The others were helping themselves too. Although Lee and Hal turned their noses up at it, seemingly not keen on fancy food. They’re more homebodies, you guessed.

“I’ll take those pretty little hands,” Robert licked his lips, cock bobbing as it stood proud, released from his slacks.

You were lifted from your place on the ground, Lloyd sitting with his back to the couch seat and ass against the plush rug. He dragged you into his lap and directly against his hard cock, grinding himself against you.

“I don’t want this, please, stop,” you yowled, trying to wriggle away, but all it did was make Lloyd groan as he kept grinding against you.

“What you want doesn’t matter, sweets,” Robert sniggered, coming up close to whisper in your ear. “You’re at our mercy now.”

Despite having nothing left to lose, the fear was immobilising. You weren’t afraid of death, but living terrified you. The unrelenting pain it brought. The bleakness. All you had now was your alpha, the thing you craved most despite the circumstances. Wanting Nick Fowler was a horrifying feeling.

The three vultures that remained  between you and your alpha had you feeling like you were swimming, but when you tried to put your feet down on the sand, the water was far deeper than you thought, and there was nothing there to ground you.

Your brain felt like mush, a mess of emotion and need. Despite your protests, your pussy provided more than enough slickness for Lloyd to rub his cock between your folds before impatiently beginning to guide you down onto his cock. You cried out but couldn’t move with his grip on you, Ransom and Robert watching.

“Put those hands to use, c’mon, we don’t have all day,” Robert grabbed your wrists, a harsh grip that had your bones aching. There was no need for the use of force, but he seemed to find a sick thrill in the power of watching you in pain, just as Lloyd and Ransom did.

Lloyd pulled you down until you reached the scruffy hair at the base of his cock, using your body like a fleshlight up and down on his dick. Robert painfully clung to your wrists as he guided your wet palms over his rigid flesh, all while Ransom watched amusedly.

“You must be hungry, hm? I bet you’d love some salmon, ducky,” Ransom teased, eating the smoked salmon as he towered over you while your eyes fluttered from how Lloyd dragged his length along your walls.

You shook your head. You wanted none of it. You wanted to be in the arms of your alpha and nothing more. 

The stability of your mind was wavering, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to form words with the way everything hurt. Physically your body was fatigued and battered, and mentally you were a wilted rose, fragile petals torn.

“Hm. I don’t like being ignored, omega. Your alpha brought us here to teach you a lesson, one I intend to make sure you remember.” Ransom held up the fishy shells under your nose with nothing but oysters left on his plate.

You retched, stomach rolling in disgust from the salty sea smell coming from the slimy thing. You’d never had an oyster before, and you had no wish to try it now.

Ransom chuckled as Lloyd kept working you over his cock, with Robert using your hands to stroke himself.

For a moment, your eyes checked over the rest of the room's occupants. You searched for a reprieve, but no one was coming to your rescue. There was a gain in having you break like this, and you whined into the air as you tried to squirm towards your alpha but were held firm by Lloyd’s ring-covered fingers. “Uh-uh sunshine, no getting off my lap ‘til I’m done with you.”

“I want you fed before you take my cock, ducky. That way you don’t get nibbly on me. Who knows how far your hunger goes, isn’t that right?” He spoke to you like a child that’s being chastised, and it had a heat building in your cheeks. It was humiliating and had you spiralling further into the shell of an omega.

Ransom didn’t allow you to shy away. His fingers gripped your cheeks so your mouth opened in a forced pout. It took all your might to close your lips, refusing to let anything go into your mouth.

A strong arm looped around your neck, Lloyd’s bicep curling around your throat as he kept making you ride him. A strangled sound escaped you as the breath was knocked from your lungs, shock taking over.

Robert joined in, pulling your hair so your head tilted back into Lloyd’s tight hold. The world began spinning the more oxygen you lost, your lungs cut off from filling with air.

“P- Pl-“ You couldn’t get the words out, tingles all over your body with the way the world began to have a vignette at the edges.

Was this the final curtain call? Was the sick show finally coming to an end?

“Let her go, Lloyd,” Hal called, annoyance clear despite how his cock bobbed hard between his legs.

Mace and Beck stepped forward, ready to intervene, but Steve stopped them. “You want your friend to get the omega of his dreams? Then you need to let this happen.”

“They’re hurting her,” Mace snapped, and you reached out your free hand towards them despite the way your body was beginning to give way.

“A little pain is necessary. She will survive.”

Using your distracted state, Ransom opened your mouth and slid the raw oyster out of its shell and onto your tongue.

Your eyes went wide at the sudden movement. Before you could spit out the slimy food, Ransom clamped his hand over your mouth and nose. Your attempts to flail were fruitless, and the longer it lay in your mouth, the stronger the oyster’s taste became.

You cried against Ransom’s hand as you chewed, which was a mistake in itself, and swallowed the oyster.

“You’re not meant to chew it so much, silly ducky,” Ransom laughed heartily, amused at your disgust. “Here, let's try that again. Now, do as I say. Chew it twice, then swallow.”

Lloyd and Robert loosened their grips so you could breathe, and when Ransom moved his hand, you gulped in air greedily. “N-No. No more,” you begged to deaf ears.

The two alpha’s held you still as Ransom held the second oyster to your lips. You turned your head away despite the hold in the roots of your hair, but it was useless.

Ransom forced the second oyster into your mouth, and you wanted to throw up. You did as the alpha had told you. You gave two chews and swallowed. It was far less horrid, but still an experience that had you gagging when you were released.

Your clear distress had Lloyd’s cock twitching inside you, his breath hot against the back of your neck as he started fucking up into you again.

“You’d think I’d fed her a lemon. Stupid slut, I could buy an omega for the price of these,” Ransom sniped, throwing the plate aside.

“Watch it, Ransom,” Beck growled, Mace barely holding him back from approaching.

“What? She’s a stupid—”

“She isn’t yours to insult,” Beck spat, only backing down when Ransom raised his hands in concedement.

Like the others before them, the three alphas used you for their pleasure. Your brain started to check out, and dissociate, taking you to a better place.

But for some reason, every better place you could think of had Nick there. Your alpha. As long as his scent enveloped you, you were safe. It was a rapidly growing dependency.

When the alphas grabbed at you harshly, you wondered. Would Nick let you build a nest with his clothes? You didn’t want to be without him while he was busy.

If Ransom, Lloyd and Robert noticed you zoning out, they didn’t say anything. They just used you harder until their knots were beginning to swell.

Steve joined the scene, your eyes dazedly watching him as he helped the others lay you down on the rug. You turned your head to the side, the faintest waft of your alpha coming from the fabric. You rubbed your nose into it, a high whine coming from you.

“She’s fucked stupid,” Charles said, mostly in amazement at the scene of you nuzzling into the rug. There were a few laughs in response, words coming through one ear and out the other as you struggled to keep up with all the men surrounding you.

You couldn’t focus as they stood over you, your visuals overloaded. But when the first shooting string of warmth hit you, you realised what was happening. Your ears clued into the distinct groans of the alphas, but their salty-twinged scent covered your skin.

You gasped, wanting to escape it, but multiple hands held you down as more smells began mixing.

It was complete and utter sensory overload as the eight alphas (and one beta) stroked themselves until they came over you, their knots hot and heavy in their grips as sticky white covered you. You wailed, trying to get to your alpha.

It smelt wrong, like getting hit to the head with a sledgehammer as the scents covered you.

“Alpha! Help me! Make it stop, please,” you thrashed, and before long, the men were finished. You sobbed, completely drenched in their cum. 

Without realising it, your body began shaking, the touch starvation to complete overload from other scents sending you into a frenzy. The sobs that wracked through you were miserable, pathetic wails sounding as the anxiety hit you.

The men moved away to mingle, and your knight in shining armour arrived.

Nick’s face came into view, and you wailed with outstretched grabby hands.

He smiled at you. A genuine smile that had warmth flowing through your bond. He’d got what he wanted. You. Broken. And now his to put back together.

“Look at you, puppy. My beautiful girl,” he cooed to you, taking a soft towel Beck handed him to begin wiping away some of the cum from your skin.

“I can’t- I can’t- I can’t-“ Your teeth chattered as your heart raced in quick tandem. The panic was unrelenting, but your muscles were too spent to raise yourself and touch him.

Nick’s large palm cupped your cheek, and he leaned in close. His rings were cold against your hot flesh, which was a soothing feeling. “Tell me what you want. What you need, little pup.”

There was nothing left of you. The girl who was taken from her home was no more.

“Y-You. You. Alpha, help me, please. I can’t- Oh god- I can’t d-do this,” you cried between hiccuped sniffles, and Nick nuzzled his nose against yours.

“See? All you had to do was ask,” Nick gently jabbed, and the normal you would have snapped back. But you weren’t the same person anymore, not after what he’d put you through.

Without acknowledging the guests, Nick cleaned you up the best he could with the towel before he scooped you up bridal style. He began carrying you towards the bedroom, and it had some relief coming to your cluttered mind.

You wanted to be as far away from the other alphas as possible. The whole way up, Nick spoke to you like a new pet. “Such a pretty pup, aren’t you? My pretty pup. I can’t wait to give my sweet puppy a shower. Silly little thing, getting all dirty.”

He carried you to the bathroom and placed you on the cold tiled floor to prepare the shower.

But when he moved away from you, your brain just couldn’t handle it. He was too far, even though he was only a few steps away. “Alpha,” you whined, and Nick turned to look at your beady eyes staring up at you. 

“Say it again,” he rasped, fingers twitching at his sides.

“Alpha. Don’t leave me, please.”

“I’m not leaving you, pup. I’m trying to get the shower ready,” Nick smirked, the enjoyment of your attachment evident. He moved to pick you up, and this time he put you on his hip as he began running the water and getting all the things he’d need. 

“You’re a needy pup, aren’t you?” Nick said, but it wasn’t an insult. It was clear he was revelling in it. He manoeuvred you around while he undressed, and for the first time, you moved to touch him first.

You dragged your nose over his neck, inhaling his scent that had your heart fluttering and pussy clenching. Your fingers ran over his inked skin, feeling each chiselled muscle within reach. From biceps to abs, you felt all of it. This was.. yours? Could you call Nick yours?

The warm water hit your back as Nick walked you under the stream, both of you sighing in relief. It had been a long day.

“Are you going to get other omegas?” It wasn’t unheard of, alphas making a little harem for themselves. 

You felt the flash of anger through the bond, and Nick growled in offence. “No. I only want you, omega.”

“Why?” You couldn’t help yourself but ask. What made you so special? A small-town girl in a prime alpha’s world.

“Later you can ask all the questions you want. But for now, let me make you feel good,” Nick let your back rest against the shower wall, wrapping your legs around his waist so you were sandwiched.

The warm water covered you both, and your eyes fluttered closed. Nick took the body wash, using his hands to cover you in the suds. The distressing smell of the other men started to dissipate with each swipe of his hands, the scent replaced with something neutral before the strong smell of your alpha wafted over the top.

Nick rubbed the scent gland on his wrist across your body, allowing you to relax while his aura took over. It calmed you completely, your body going lax the more he touched you.

This was all you wanted now.

You shuddered when his fingers grazed your nipples, the nubs hardening the more he ran his fingers over them. He drew languid circles with his fingers around your areolas, the teasing causing you to whine, but you made no move to stop him. It felt too good.

Even if it tried, the water couldn’t wash away the slick forming between your folds. Your eyes fluttered open, and you gasped at the sight you were met with.

Dark, lustful eyes met yours, and you felt swallowed whole by the way Nick looked at you. “You want me to touch you, don’t you?” He whispered, and you nodded.

Nick licked your cheek as his hands travelled lower, resting on your stomach. “Here?”

You whined and wriggled your hips, feeling his hardening length pulse against your ass.

“Use your words, omega,” Nick’s fingers tickled your tummy, and you laughed. When was the last time you’d laughed?

“Lower,” you breathed out, still squirming for contact.

“Hm, how about here?” Nick’s fingers moved lower until they sat at the top of your cunt, teasing your mound.

You gripped his shoulders, shaking your head. “Lower, alpha, please.”

“That’s my girl,” Nick purred before his fingers dipped between your folds.

Your body became ignited the moment he breezed over your clit, your cunt throbbing for any contact. “Oh, oh,” you moaned. “Please, alpha, right there.”

“Right here? Well, since you used your manners and asked so nicely,” Nick rolled your clit between his fingers, causing you to howl in surprise as the pleasure shot through your entire body.

After being starved and tortured, this was heaven.

He didn’t stop, beginning to rub your clit as he ground his cock against you, his other hand palming at your soft mounds. The sounds pulled from you were obscene as your body was, for once, manipulated for your pleasure.

The heat in your core started to grow rapidly, and the connection in your bond meant that you were feeding off each other’s arousal, only heightening the experience. Just as he could feel you, you could feel the burning fire coming from Nick. It had goosebumps rising on your skin and your hair standing on end.

“That’s it, puppy. Let your alpha take care of you.” Nick’s words were entirely possessive, and it only further ingrained his hold over you. Your alpha. He saved you from the bad men. Right? He took you away. And now he’s taking care of you. That’s not so bad, right? 

Your sounds started to hit a higher pitch as Nick increased his pace, leaning forward to lick and nip at your neck as his fingers didn’t stop toying with your clit. “Does that feel good? Having your alpha play with your puppy pussy?”

It all started to become too much, your body buzzing with the electrical currents of pleasure. Your legs began to tense around Nick’s hips as your core tightened. “Alpha, I’m– I’m going to–”

“That’s it, pup. Come for your alpha. Give me everything,” Nick snarled into your ear, and his voice's lewd harshness had you reaching your peak.

You came with a yowl, body shuddering as the waves of pleasure washed over you. Your fingers gripped Nick’s shoulders so tightly that your nails dug into his skin, leaving crescents in his mix of black ink and pale flesh.

“Good girl, gushing against my cock. I didn’t even have to finger you,” Nick smiled, and the old you would have been cocky about how his fingers would never have been enough for you. But now, all you could do was give a small smile in return. Your alpha was cocky, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Nick leaned forward to ghost his lips over the shell of your ear as he positioned himself against your clenching hole, and you could tell he was smiling in the way he spoke. “Are you ready for your treat, puppy?” 

Nick pushed his hips up without warning, burying his cock deep into your awaiting heat. You choked out a moan at the sudden feeling of fullness. Having Nick stretching you out around his length felt right. A cosy feeling of home made you feel safe and loved. Like the best nest you could ever build.

“A perfect fit, just for me,” Nick grunted as he held you tight so he could thrust up, massaging your walls with each groove and vein along his dick. 

You closed your eyes, allowing your head to fall forward into the crook of Nick’s neck. He rolled his hips in slow, languid movements that had you constantly whining. The air felt thick enough to cut with a knife, but you didn’t need air when you had your alpha. 

The movement of your bodies together was slow and passionate. Nick’s hands gently pulled your head back, so your forehead rested against his. You could feel the heat of his breath against your lips, and it had you leaning in closer until your lips met.

Both of you were drenched from the shower’s spray, making it easy to slide your lips together as Nick cupped your cheeks. He deepened the kiss, his hips grinding deep and hard as you bounced against the wall.

Nick bit your bottom lip, allowing blood to pool between you before he sucked it away, a hum mixing in with his groans. He didn’t break away from the kiss. Instead, he slid his tongue into your mouth, swirling it against yours and fucking your mouth with it. 

The action was vulgar, but it had your walls fluttering around Nick’s cock regardless. Nick’s pace started to quicken, and he had to pull away to let out a loud, whimpered moan. “So fucking good.”

His thrusts began to increase in rhythm, and Nick grabbed your hips to fuck harder into you. He tilted his head to the side so you could return to your spot on his neck as you clung to him. The pleasure was beyond intense, and it felt like there was nothing else in the world but you two. 

“Bite me,” Nick hissed, and you pulled back in shock. “You heard me. Bite me, omega. Right fucking now.”

Lost in the lust and the way it made your brain haze, your brows furrowed. Surely he didn’t mean his mating spot. You went to bite his shoulder, away from his mating gland, but Nick harshly slapped your ass in response, earning a squeak from you. “Don’t make me ask again, omega. Bite me.” 

Nervousness flittered between the arousal. It was common for omegas to bite their alphas. But there was nothing common about this companionship. If you bit Nick, it would only strengthen the bond you two share. The old you would want anything but making the bond stronger. But now, the idea of it was endearing.

Nick thrust upwards sharply, his cock brushing against your g-spot. You moaned before you let your hindbrain take over and lowered your teeth to Nick’s mating gland. Heart racing, you bit down.

“Fuck, yes, yes, that’s it omega. You’re doing so fucking good,” Nick howled, throwing his head back as he clung to you, his hips not faltering for a moment. His balls slapped against your ass, his demeanour growing more feral as the metallic taste of his ichor twanged against your tongue. 

You held your jaw firm, letting the bite take hold as the coils in your core began tightening again. The wash of arousal in the bond grew tenfold, the connection strengthening as the bite set. Just as he had bonded you, you had bonded Nick. There was no turning back now.

If there wasn’t water washing you clean, you’d both have been covered in a sheen of sweat as every nerve felt as if it was on fire. “M’c-close, fuck, you feel too good.” Nick’s thrusts began desperate and reckless, setting a merciless rhythm that had heat pooling in your lower back and blooming across the rest of your body.

“Alpha, oh, a-alpha,” you managed to get out as you pulled away, your back arching. You bit your lower lip, trying to hold back your sounds.

“Let me hear you, need to hear you,” Nick gripped your chin, your face millimetres away as his knot began to swell.

Abandoning any semblance of reservation, you let the moans run free. The more his knot started to catch at your entrance, the closer you got to your orgasm. Neither of you could speak as your stuttered groans mixed together. 

Nick held your gaze as his knot finally stuck, his dilated pupils baring his soul as you felt the first shoot of his cum inside you. He reached between you, swirling his finger around your clit until you came with a wail.

The way you clenched around him milked his cock, his seed filling your plugged pussy. “Take it all, omega. My omega.” 

“Yours,” you sighed, letting your body go lax against Nick. 

He held you up for a few minutes, neither of you speaking as you enjoyed the moment of peace.

Peace. That’s what this was. No fighting. No running. No pain. Just.. quiet. 

All you could hear was your panting breaths and the steady stream of water. It was as if you stood upon a bridge, looking down at the river's stream below. The wind whipped in your hair, and you sat upon the railing that stopped people from falling. Did you want to fall? You could admire the view as you flew like a bird to the rocks awaiting below. Perhaps it would be like the movies where it all happened in slow motion, or maybe it would be a fast plummet that quickly brought upon the darkness. You swung your feet, staring down at the water. James was down there. He was waiting.

“Let's get you dry before you get a chill,” a soft voice called to you, and you looked over your shoulder to see Nick behind you. You turned back to the ground kilometres below. But James was down there. “C’mon, I can’t have you getting sick.”

A towel wrapped around your shoulders, enveloping you in a warmth that had you moving away from the bannister.

You blinked, back in reality. Nick placed you on the counter, drying you with care. “There she is. Where’d you go?”

“Nowhere,” you lied, letting Nick take care of you and himself.

“You’re a bad liar, omega,” Nick quipped, but he didn’t push you on it. He seemed content enough to have you yearning for him. 

Nick carried you to the bedroom on his hip when he'd finished, where Mace and Beck were waiting with the dogs sitting at their feet. “The guests have left?” Nick asked, to which Mace nodded. “Good. Make sure to pay each of them accordingly.”

Apollo came up and sniffed at your hanging feet, tickling your toes when he licked at you. You giggled, and it had the dogs ears perking up. 

“Go on, you can pet him.” Nick lowered you so you could kneel on the floor and give Apollo some pats. Hermes and Icarus quickly joined, all revelling in the attention from you.

“I’ve never seen them so affectionate,” Beck commented, a smile on his lips. 

It was an uncharacteristically nice moment as you played with the dogs. You were distracted with the pets as Nick, Mace, and Beck set up the room. A teapot of earl grey tea was placed on the nightstand, and a tray of fruits and sandwiches was on the bed.

“Puppy, we’re going to have a high tea. I need to make sure we get some food in you,” Nick picked you back up, taking you away from the dogs and into the plushness of his bed. The covers rustled as Nick lay you down. Before joining you, he lifted the duvet and sheets so you could sit under them. He propped his back up against the pillows and pulled you close against his side. 

Mace and Beck left, taking the dogs with them after they knew you were alright. Nick held a chicken sandwich to your mouth, and you allowed him to feed you. As he did, you couldn’t stop staring at the clock piece on his hand.

“Why two am?” You asked, eyeing the time on his tattoo.

Nick stiffened and froze for a moment. You’d stuck a nerve. It was evident in the way his eyes seemed glossier than usual.

“It’s not a pretty story, puppy.”

“It never is. Doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be told.”

Nick let out a sigh, picking at the sandwich as he kept giving you small bites. He pulled you against his chest so you couldn’t see his expression. “I failed to save my mother and sister at two am.”

“From who?” You asked, shocked at the admittance of such a loss.

“My father,” Nick gritted out, and he held you so tight, it felt as if your bones would break.

The answer confused you. Nick was acting kindly towards you now and obviously cared about the women in his family. “But then... Why do the work you do? If you lost your family to violence?”

Nick stayed silent for a moment, contemplating his thoughts before he spoke. “Because the world is cruel and hopeless. It’s no more than a chorus of dead souls looking for meaning. When people speak to you, they don’t look at you. They look through you. There’s no connection. There’s no saviour. It’s an unrelenting emptiness you’re forced to find a fill for. And this business fills that gap for me. I’m a slave to no one. I’m selfish. I make all the money I need. And it brought me to you, my omega,” he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, and for a moment, you could swear you felt a tear drip into your hair. “Life is nothing more than sex and violence and a mix of resonance and quiet. But you bring me song, omega. A soft melody that warms my heart. The ends justify the means.”

“Why me?”

“My mother would have loved you. She always loved the smell of roses; you have that beautiful scent. She’d tend to our garden every day. It’s as if you sprouted from my memory of her. I knew from the moment I scented you that I had to have you. You make me happy.”

Nick pressed another kiss to your head before he returned to feeding you. You didn’t question him further. The one enquiry had unearthed enough. And you were tired. So tired.

It was hard to keep your eyes open, and Nick noticed with a soft chuckle. “It’s okay, omega. Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

He helped you lie down, pulling the covers up so you were snuggled tight. Nick spooned you, letting his lips rest against your shoulder.

You wondered if you’d dream. Perhaps you would dream of the sweet reprieve of death, something you’d thought about many times since you’d come to Nick Fowler's domain.

But as you thought about it, the idealism of perishing no longer seemed captivating. 

You wanted to wake up to your alpha, and continue to live with him. Live for him. For he was all you needed in this sick world.

Because Nick Fowler had broken you. He had won. And now he held your future in the palm of his hand.

Right as you drifted to a state of rest, Nick snuggled in close, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Fight me again, omega, and the consequences will be worse than your most horrifying nightmare. You’re mine. There’s no escaping that now. Sleep knowing your world is mine.”

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