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lunamidnight · 11 months

Text

November 5th

Fanfiction/Original Fiction

First created: Nov. 2018

Last updated: Jan. 2023

General Premise: This is the intro to the series of days 1 and 3 and a few other scheduled days. After the month is over I’ll put up the timeline with everything including planned chapters as well.

Other notes: This whole series began from an old roleplay me and @sintoxin1 made but, they fell out of it and I decided to make it a complete thing and now I have around 54 pages worth of story so far and counting.

In an office of seasoned authority sat a middle-aged man by the name of Mr. James Conner, he was the Department Head of the Learn and Utilize department of the H.U.B; An organization tasked with keeping peace with the world and dealing with any unusual events. Anything or anyone unusual was defined as anything defying reality in some shape or form, this of course varied and needed to be carefully analyzed before proceeding with any action. Mr. Conner’s department specialized in this but wasn’t limited to this either. He wore a dark blue suit, and a white button-up complete with a black tie. His skin was a light tan, hair black and well kept parted in the middle. Hazel eyes are deep with experience and wisdom.

Mr. Conner himself was currently going over paperwork that was scattered across his desk, ranging from mission reports and requests to department transfers and orders. He was reading over a peculiar transfer when there was a knock on his door. “Enter.” He spoke in a deep voice that held authority, but not demand. The door opened to reveal a young male agent with an urgent look upon his face. “Sir, they found her.” The agent spoke after saluting. “Who?” Mr. Connor asked, looking up at the agent questioningly. “Labell’s missing daughter sir, DNA records showed a match.” The agent explained. “After so long? What happened for her to appear now?” Mr. Conner asked aloud mainly to himself, but the agent answered anyways. “Apparently the orphanage she was in got burnt down just a few hours ago. She was the only survivor, and Child Services updated her profile after picking her up.” “I see, I want two agents to pick her up from Child Services and bring her here with a basic profile to my secretary.” He ordered standing up from his desk.

“Sir, won’t she need a superior officer after she’s put into our system?” The agent asked quietly. “She will, but I’ll…” Mr. Conner spoke before trailing off as he looked at the Transfer sheet that he was looking at before the agent came in. “..take care of it, I would also like you to send for Agent Darrien Caster and send him to my office immediately.” “O-oh of course. I’ll have two Agents get Miss Labell and another to get Mr. Caster. Anything else, Sir?” The agent asked. “After she arrives and before processing, notify me so I may speak with her beforehand. Other than that, you are dismissed.” Mr. Conner replied before the agent took his leave.

He took his seat again with a sigh before picking up the transfer sheet of Darrien Caster, asking to transfer to his department from the Disperse and Cover-up Department. No reason stated only that it will be discussed in person if need be. “I don't know why he left, but I won't deny the relief I would feel at having him in this department, especially with the current circumstances.” He said aloud even though he was the only one in the room. Now he just needed to wait and see what the future held.

--- --- ---

“Well it’s one hell of a reason to transfer you Darrien, I would be happy to see you in my department.” Mr. Conner said to the male across from him. The male in question was a young 24-year-old with a medium tan complexion and slicked-back black hair, blue eyes, a white button-down shirt, black slacks, and dress shoes. He looked calculated and knowledgeable beyond his years. This was Darrien Caster, field operative and ex-mercenary. “Of course, glad to work under you Mr. Conner, anything else you need from me?” Darrien asked respectfully before the intercom on the desk beeped. He signaled for Darrien to wait before answering it. “Yes, Miss Bridge?” “Sir, she just arrived, where should she wait?” His secretary asked. “Keep her there with you and accommodate as needed Jessica, I won't be much longer.” He replied. “Alright, would you like me to send you the profile to look over?” She asked. “Yes, send two copies please.” “Of course.” Jessica replied before the line went dead and the printer nearby started to print.

“Yes actually.” Mr.Conner said, picking up the first copy that printed out and looking it over. He hummed in thought before handing the newly printed profile to Darrien. “Labell? Like…” Darrien began before Mr. Conner explained. “Her daughter actually.” “She had a daughter?” “Yes, and I am the one that kept the pregnancy from being found out. She was born a year before the disappearance.” Mr. Conner replied with a sigh. “So where has she been for the past,” Darrien askes looking at the profile “13 years?” “It seems her father placed her in an orphanage before he drove off that cliff. He didn’t tell anyone where he put her, so I’ve been searching since. A fire had the system updated which allowed our systems to find her.” He replied. “I see, so what do you need me to do? Now that she is here?” Darrien asked simply skimming over the profile a bit more, there wasn’t too much on it, just the basics since she obviously hasn’t been processed officially through their system yet. “Well, I’m going to speak with her and see what course of action she wishes to pursue, If she chooses to stay within the organization, I’d like you to be her superior officer.”

“You know better than most that I wouldn't be the best babysitter...”Darrien replied looking quite deadpanned at the request. “Not babysit. Train, protect, teach. She’s most likely learned plenty while living on the street but, it needs to be polished and refined, and I feel you are the best one to do just that.” Mr. Conner countered simply. “With all due respect Sir, I don't see the logic in this decision. You remember where I just transferred from, correct? What I used to do?... What I could do?” Darrien questioned flatly. “Of course I do, we just discussed it, and that only solidified my decision.” He replied almost cheekily before turning serious. “Darrien with her lineage and potential, I don’t want her to fall into the wrong hands and be turned into something she is not. Considering your transfer, you’d be the first to see any signs of that happening and be able to prevent it without her even knowing. You will also be able to teach her how to survive within the organization and the world that it serves.” He detailed simply. “I...suppose that’s true…” Darrien replied not sure about all of this still.

“Take your time Mr. Caster, I still need to see what she will choose. You have till tomorrow to ask any other questions, this is not a volunteered assignment. You will give me a report on her behavior once a week 'til I state otherwise. If I feel you are unfit for this assignment, then and only then will I assign someone else to her. I understand that this is a lot to take in, but I have a feeling she’ll help you just as much as you’ll help her. So I do hope you’ll at least try.” Mr. Conner replied standing up from his desk while grabbing the second copy for himself. “I wouldn’t be working here if I didn't always give it my all sir, even if this assignment is a little...odd.” Darrien replied. “Well you are an odd individual, are you not? Look over that profile for now and I'll expect to see you back here in my office no later than noon tomorrow. I’ll have Miss Bridge send any other information acquired through processing. Any last questions before I go speak with Miss Labell?” Mr. Conner asked, moving to his door. “Does she know about her lineage? Her mother?” Darrien asked simply. “No, and she is not to know until she’s older and ready. Understood?” Mr. Conner stared at him looking down with a set expression. “Understood, I have no further questions. Once I mull this over more, I'll have more I’ll bring with me tomorrow.” Darrien replied. Mr. Conner nods. "As expected."

--- --- ---

After that conversation, they exited the room and parted ways in the hallway. Mr. Conner headed towards his secretary’s desk in the front office and Darrien headed to the stairwell in the back to go who knows where to think things over. Once Mr. Conner emerged from the hallway into the front office he was greeted by the sight of two conversing females. The 22-year-old secretary being a light-skinned redhead. She wore a professional floral top, a black pencil skirt and black high heels. Her hair was up in a professional bun and her green eyes watched with sympathy as the other female devoured the leftover contents of what was once her lunch. The female in question hadn’t eaten once today and was starving when she first arrived. The 14-year-old had a baggy slightly charred grey sweatshirt with faded denim jeans and black torn tennis shoes. Her shoulder-length light brown hair that framed a slightly tanned face was also charred at the ends and messy from the fire that she had escaped only 8 hours previously. Her dark green eyes looked tired but guarded, especially after he entered the room.

“Mr. Conner Sir,” Jessica greeted standing up at the sight of him. “I accommodated her as you asked. She was certainly hungry Sir.” Jessica said after she stepped closer to him. “Yes, it would seem so. Thank you for that Jessica, now do me a favor and get someone to set up a room for her whether it's just for tonight or longer, then get ready to take her out shopping. Alright?” He replied in question. “Oh, of course. Right away, Sir.” Jessica replied before moving to the side to let him step closer to the young girl before going about her new tasks.

Mr. Conner grabbed a chair and sat down in front of the girl who watched his every move as she finished off the sandwich that she was given. He peered at the profile that he had for a second before speaking. “Is Angel Labell what you go by or did you pick another name for yourself?” He asked simply. “...Yeah, I go by that, just Angel is fine...Who are you?” She asked with a clip to her tone. “James Conner, you may address me as Mr. Conner, Now you’ve been an orphan your whole life correct?” Mr. Conner asked, already knowing the real story. “Yeah. pretty much. I was just left on the front steps of the orphanage that burnt down with just my name and birth date, beyond that I wouldn’t know.” Angel replied with a shrug as she threw away the wrapper of the sandwich in a trash can located underneath Jessica's desk. “Right, of course. So you know by now how things work, yes?” He asked, watching for her reaction. “Well yeah, I get sent to a new orphanage, right? No one is going to bother with adopting me. Why, is there something else?” Angel asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

Mr. Conner smiled gladly to see she questioned just as much as her mother once did. “With me involved there is another option if you choose it of course.” He commented. “Oh? What’s the option?” She asked with curiosity showing through her guarded tone. She was starting to relax in his presence, she wasn’t sure why though. “The other option is to work for me in the Learn and Utilize department of the Hub.” He explained simply. “What in the world is the Hub.?” Angel asked, thoroughly confused. “The Hub. is an organization tasked with dealing with anything or anyone that is unusual in relation to the fabric of reality; In my department Learn and Utilize, we do just that, we learn about these Unusual things or people, and sometimes utilize them to help keep peace within the general public.” He explained.

“Huh...and what would I do and what about the other departments?” Angel asked. “The other departments won’t even bother looking into you because of your age.” Mr. Conner countered simply, “You would first be trained in the basics of the department for the first year and then determined where you fit best after that. All the while you will be reported on by a Superior Officer of my choosing, till you raise enough in the ranks to not need one anymore.” Angel thought for a moment before figuring out another question to ask. “If I do go for it, but then decide to leave, can I?” Angel asked with a raised eyebrow. “Well I...I’ve never been asked that, but I don’t see why not.” Mr. Conner replied genuinely surprised.

“Well...I wouldn’t mind more information on what the organization is.” Angel replied unsurely. “That’s fine you may ask Jessica anything from an insider’s perspective while she takes you shopping for clothes and basic necessities, you’ll have a room for the night and in the morning you can choose to stay and work for me or leave and go with a social worker.” He detailed as he got up again as Jessica came back in the room again, this time in a yellow sundress and black pumps with her hair halfway down her back. Jessica grabbed her purse from under her desk and then was handed a card by Mr. Conner. “Spend as much as you need, I'll take care of it.” He told her before taking his leave back to his office. “Well then, Shall we?” Jessica asked before grabbing Angel’s wrist and bounding out of the office with Angel faltering to keep up behind the taller girl.

--- --- ---

By the time the following morning rolled around, Angel had decided to stay within the organization. After a full dinner and a full night's rest on a foam mattress, Angel was escorted to the processing room by Jessica, before the redhead went off to the elevator to go up to Mr. Conner’s office. Jessica knew Angel would be fine since she was scheduled to be picked up from processing by her doctor for her physical, she was told that the doctor had also known Angel’s mother in the past so the two of them should hit it off just fine. The same couldn’t be said for Jessica herself and the person that was just barely able to slip into the elevator with her, that being Agent Darrien Caster.

“Agent Caster…”Jessica greeted flatly after a moment. “Miss Bridge,” Darrien replied civilly before he continued. “Have a good morning?” “Yes, and since Angel is in processing her updated file will be sent to your phone to give you time before your appointment with Mr. Conner, which by the way you are awfully early for since it is only 10 a.m.” Jessica replied looking over at him questioningly with a hint of a glare. “Alright then, sounds perfect.” Darrien said not even touching the subject about the time. This just got Jessica to start fuming, but her professionalism prevented her from snapping at him so soon. “...Darrien, what are you doing heading up to the office so early?” Jessica asked even though it sounded more like a demand. “Oh I’m not, I just wanted to talk to you.” Darrien replied causing Jessica to deadpan in response. “About what?” She was both confused and irritated already by his presence. “ About Angel of course.” “But I just said-” “I know but, you can tell me things that file won't, like personality, quirks, and preferences; you did go shopping with her, didn’t you? You must have learned something.” Darrien detailed looking unmoved by her reactions. Jessica frowned at him before sighing. “I did, so where should I start?” Jessica asked leaning against the elevator wall.

"I assume she's rather defensive or clammed up, not showing many expressions. After all, a girl her age surviving a building fire like that would be pretty traumatized." Darrien figured verbally. “not to mention living on the streets all her life… but, yes she showed some signs of trauma, though she’s awfully good at hiding it, and she tends to busy herself when she can so she doesn’t dwell on anything.” Jessica explained. “Despite not having anything in her life she’s generous and morally sound by default, even if she has the attitude the size of the city. She’s awkward in crowds and tends to cling to familiarity but she is also willing to try new things if familiarity is present. She’s above average in smarts and not just in street smarts either, and loves to learn. She’s not the biggest fan of classrooms though. And her appetite is terrifying and she also has a sweet tooth if she finds something she likes. I think that’s all that I could really say unless you have something specific you're looking for.”

“No, I can work with that. Just send me her file to my phone when you get it.” Darrien said, pressing the button for the floor just before Mr. Conner’s office. “Will do...mind if I ask what you plan to do though as her S.O.? Like how do you plan to teach and deal with a teenager?” Jessica asked simply. “I’m going to treat her as my equal simply.” Darrien replied. “How, though?” “She's probably going through puberty at this age, so I can exploit the hormonal imbalance to get her to like me just enough to be comfortable but not crush on me.” “What? So you're just going to woo her?” Jessica asked, appalled, having been in that situation with him before. “What? Oh no, She'd be too distracted and compromise future missions. I'd never let her get that close.” Darrien replied, looking back at her as the door opened on his floor. “You're not being serious, are you?” Jessica said accusingly. “Some of it is, what part is up for you to decide.” Darrien said before getting off the elevator and letting the door slide shut behind him. Jessica let out a growl once the door closed. “That stupid, hot bastard,” Jessica said angrily before sighing. “Mr. Conner is right, she’s going to be the best thing to come into his life...about damn time.” Jessica said mildly before the elevator got to her floor, and she headed into the office to start her day.

--- --- ---

Sometime later Darrien received the file just as he was headed to the elevator to go up and see Mr. Conner at noon. He was only 15 minutes early as he stepped onto the elevator. He knew something was up since that was late, even for Jessica. When he finally got to the floor in question he quickly figured out why. Jessica was frantically picking up the phone lines and explaining to several people that their meetings would have to be rescheduled or that Mr. Conner was busy. Jessica briefly looked up at him in the middle of it all and set a paper on the end of her desk for him to see. He stepped forward with a raised eyebrow and looked it over. “Go in, he’s on the phone with the general… good luck.” It read simply. Darrien nodded to her in understanding already knowing what kind of hell the conversation he was about to walk into was. He carefully knocked on Mr. Conner’s door before quietly going inside, not waiting for a response. He wouldn’t have gotten one with how intense Mr. Conner looked while talking to his fellow department head over the phone.

Mr. Conner glanced up at Darrien acknowledging his presence with a nod before continuing his current conversation, one that was blatantly obvious to be about Darrien himself. “I already told you, that is exactly what he told me word for-” Mr.Conner sighed in frustration as muffled yelling could be heard from over the phone. He ran a hand through his hair in aggravation, looking tired from the hour-long call he was still on. “Richard please, I know you’re against it, but the file does have the president’s signature, so it’s out of both of our hands. - No, if you have an issue with it, talk to the president yourself, I will not transfer him back until I have a reason to do so. This conversation is over now general, good day.” Mr. Conner finished flatly before slamming the phone down on the receiver. He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temples before greeting Darrien.

“Hello Darrien, you’re ten minutes early, everything alright?” He asked with a sigh. “It’s fine, although I sense an earful in my future.” Darrien let out jokingly with a small chuckle. “Yes...that you most likely do...well other than that fiasco in the making, let’s talk about this new assignment of yours, shall we?” Mr.Connor asked, smiling a little at the change of subject, welcoming it greatly as he grabbed his copy of Angel’s updated file. “We shall.” Darrien replied pulling out his own on his phone, looking it over a bit since he didn’t have it as long as he would have liked. “I understand it took Miss Bridge a little longer to get that to you, so take your time to look it over, I also haven't had a chance to look it over.” Mr. Conner replied.

“Right, of course, I also got some insight from Jessica this morning from their shopping.” Darrien replied furrowing his eyebrows at something on the file. Mr. Conner also narrowed his eyes at the file choosing to not talk about it first. “Right, she told me that too, as well as the information she gave you, definitely Allison’s daughter, that’s for sure…” Mr. Conner said with a deep sigh. “I’m certainly glad she chose to stay.” “Agreed, and I haven’t even met her yet. She’s gone through a lot more than she obviously lets on…” Darrien replied looking at the descriptions of old injuries that were found, no cause was given by the patient though, what was she hiding?

“Yes she certainly raises more questions than she answers, but given time, those answers could be found. Speaking of questions, do you have any feelings towards this task?” Mr. Conner questions Darrien's expressions as he goes over the rest of the file. He himself would continue looking it over later when there was less of a time crunch and when he could speak with the doctor in private.

“...What am I allowed to teach her?” Darrien asked, not looking up from the file. Self-defense for sure, but what else could he even provide at this point? “Anything that you feel she needs at this point, maybe get her to learn on her own from the library if you can, we don’t know her interest or talents, so find those and expand on it best you can.” Mr. Conner replied. “And anything in relation to the injuries?” Darrien asked being the first to say it out loud. “Report it to me immediately and to her doctor.” Mr. Conner replied once more. “Lane?” “Correct. Anything other questions?” “None that I won’t figure out on my own, if I do in the future I’ll let you know.” Darrien replied, finally putting away his phone. “Good, now then, a week from today you will give me your first report on everything about her as well as yourself in relation to her, That will repeat each week till I change it, Understood?” Mr. Conner asked, standing up from his desk. “Yes, Sir.” Darrien replied standing up and following Mr. Conner out of his office.

--- --- ---

Out in the main office now sat three females Jessica and Angel, of course, Angel in a new outfit with a better fitting black hoodie. That last female is Angel’s primary doctor, Dr. Victoria Lane, a light bronze-skinned middle-aged woman with long back hair in a tight bun and a set of dark blue scrubs and a white lab coat. “Hello James, glad to see you again.” She greeted him as soon as she saw him in the hallway. “Yes indeed, it’s been a while since our schedules last crossed. You remember Darrien yes?” Mr. Conner asked as the younger male stepped forward with a nod in greeting. “Of course, I see him regularly enough in the infirmary.” Dr. Lane replied in good fun to Darrien. In truth, she hadn’t had him as a patient for a few months now. Darrien chuckled lightly in response. “Yes, well I wouldn’t want anyone but, the best to treat me doc,” Darrien replied simply. “Yes well, you and several others I’m sure.” Dr. Lane replied before getting up from her chair.

“Well, let's do introductions now shall we, I still need to talk to you Mr. Conner, about that report.” Dr. Lane replied, glancing at Angel and back again. “Yes of course, now Angel, this here is your superior officer, Darrien Caster, he will be your primary mentor and authority figure besides myself and Dr. Lane. Don’t hesitate to ask any questions to any of us.” Mr. Conner detailed as he looked down at her. Angel got up from her own seat and nodded. “Right, of course, thank you.” Angel replied simply unsure what else to say as she looked over at the young man that she would be around the most now. “And Darrien, This is Angel Labell, take care of her, and teach her well.” Mr. Conner said, turning to Darrien again. “Of course, sir.” Darrien replied. “I suggest showing her around HQ and the part of the city she hasn’t seen, so she can get a sense of direction.” Jessica suggested from her desk. “Yes I agree that would be the best course of action. I will notify you on any other dealings or missions as they come in, till then help her settle into the organization. With that you are both dismissed.” Mr. Conner said, getting an understanding nod from Darrien before he turned to Angel. “Shall we?” He asked simply getting a nod from the girl before they headed to the elevator. Jessica and Dr. Lane waved them goodbye as the doors shut.

“And shall we?” Dr. Lane asked, already heading to Mr. Conner’s office. “Yes of course.” Mr. Conner replied following her. Jessica sighed as they went while looking at the elevator. “Wonder how this will go.” She said to herself before she went back to work.

--- --- ---

Meanwhile inside Mr.Conner's office, both Mr.Conner and Dr.Lane stood by the window watching the central square of Headquarters. Both were silent for quite some time as they watched people below, soon including Angel and Darrien who just exited the building and looked to be heading to the garage structure. Upon seeing the two individuals in sight Mr.Conner finally spoke up. “So...Injuries...any information?” He asked looking over at her as she continued to watch the two walk away. “Yes, but not much from her...I got the timeframe from her but everything else is speculation at this point.” Dr. Lane replied before turning to him, finally looking a little sad. “I can’t stand that she’s gotten hurt, I wish we could have found her sooner.” She continued with a frown. Mr. Conner nodded in agreement. “Yes I know, but things do happen for a reason even if we don’t understand them.” He said with a sigh.

“Yes well I still don’t like it.” She replied firmly. “She told me she got them two years ago give or take, but clammed up shut about everything else. Taking a look at the injuries themselves suggest foul play of some kind, I don’t dare try to guess more till I get some facts.” She detailed gaining another nod from Mr. Conner. “So, Why him? When did he start working for you without Richard involved.” She asked curiously. “Just yesterday morning actually.” He replied with a hint of a smile. “Your kidding. Why?” Dr. Lane asked, her eyes growing wide. “I can answer that and your first question with the same thing.” Mr. Conner replied stepping towards his desk and waving her over to her a certain file. It was Darrien’s transfer paperwork as well as a copy of Darren's last mission, which was surprisingly lengthy. She mentions her surprise before she starts to read everything. When she finishes she looks up at him. “I’ve seen his previous mission reports he’s been showing signs of emotional trauma, this had to be the catalyst. This however, doesn’t quite answer exactly why you chose him to watch over Ally's daughter.” She responded simply.

“With how her mother went missing and everything shrouded in mystery or secret, I figured someone with his expertise would be able to identify anything wrong and fix it without her even knowing about it, plus...it was also admittedly a shot in the dark, but I think she might do him some good too.” Mr. Conner replied. “I...see what you mean, I just hope it wasn’t a miss in the dark too.” Dr. Lane replied with a sigh as she put down the reports. “Right...me too.” Mr.Conner replied before glancing out the window towards the direction they went only to see that they were stopped by Darrien’s old boss, the General, Richard Alexander Emerson III. “Oh no…” He said out loud causing Dr.Lane to look too. “He...didn’t take it well did he?” She asked already knowing the answer. “No, not even in the slightest.” Mr. Conner replied as both watched the far away exchange.

--- --- ---

Darrien was not at all surprised when he and Angel got intercepted by the General, but he had been hoping to avoid it happening with his new charge in tow. Guess this conversation was happening now, whether he liked it or not. Fortunately, Angel had ducked behind him in time not to be noticed or at least not recognized considering her resemblance to her own mother that she didn't know about. Now that conversation he was going to actively avoid as much as he could. Angel and him had just started to talk when the General came into view, and Angel due to instinct at seeing his angry expression stepped back behind Darrien, which he was grateful for in the moment the older Gentleman started to speak to him. “What in the world do you think you’re doing switching to James’ department? You’re my best Agent, what happened?” The General asked half angry and half desperately. “I gave my reason already, I will not repeat it here.” Darrien replied firmly.

“Of course not, because it seems he’s making you show a newbie around, oh have the mighty have fallen.” The general replied with a slight sneer towards Angel who he couldn’t quite see behind Darrien. Darrien sighed knowing this was not going the way he wanted since he did notice her. “Not exactly, I’m now a Superior Officer, and any other details you can get from Mr. Conner himself.”Darrien replied flatly. “Details? What kind of Details, Newbies are all the same. I mean loo-” The General started to say pushing past Darrien to get a better look before stopping mid sentence at the uncanny resemblance of someone he once knew. He froze, unable to properly respond at first before gritting his teeth and speaking. “What’s your name?” He asked sternly. “Angel Labell sir.” She replied visibly biting her tongue so she didn’t say anything else. She wasn’t sure who this was or why he was such an ass, but something about the situation told her not to poke the apparent bear in front of her.

“Labell...I see…” The General said simply a lot of his anger simmering down into something more contained, but still apparent. “Sir, Mr. Conner has your answers, I can’t answer any in mixed company, now if you excuse us, we have somewhere to be.” Darrien replied, ending the conversation with that before gesturing to Angel to follow him before heading the rest of the way to the garage. The General watched them go before turning on his heel and heading to the building that they had come from, he had a lot of questions for James.

Not too far away at the elevator for the garage, Angel spoke up. “Who pissed in his french fries?” She asked bluntly as they got onto the elevator. Darrien chuckled at that. “Several people including myself, but no worries none of it is at you.” Darrien replied even though it technically wasn’t true entirely. “Huh, well, I guess I’ll avoid him if I can.” Angel replied as they went up a few floors. “Good idea, He is never really in a good mood ever, If he is, it’s rare to see.” Darrien replied. “Yeah I can see that, it must be hard being so angry all the time.” Angel responded with a shrug.

“Yeah pretty much. Just be glad you don’t work under him like I did, all rules and work and no play.” Darrien detailed. “Sounds boring, but won’t it be similar to Mr. Conner?” She asked. “Only sometimes, during missions and whatnot. A lot of your first year will be seeing where you fit in the department, but you will primarily be going on missions with me to do various things. You’ll mostly be observing and learning till you get something official.” Darrien explained.

“Huh, okay, so with that said what are we going to do now?” Angel asked. “I’m going to show you around the City and headquarters throughout the next few days and simply have us get to know each other, we will most likely not be sent out till your settled in, so today I plan to show you a place or two since it's already a bit late in the day.” Darrien replied. “Oh like where?” Angel curiously asked as the Elevator opened on the roof of the garage. “You’ll see.” Darrien replied, leading the way to a dark blue Charger, one of the many cars that he had in his possession.

---

“You kept all of this away from me! Of course, I’m angry!.” The General yelled at Both Mr. Conner and Dr.Lane. “Richard...we were only doing what we were asked.” Victoria replied trying to keep things calm. “She asked us not to let anyone know, including you.” James replied looking down guilty. “But even after she…” Richard started before sighing. “She didn’t want me to know because of that fight we had,didn’t she?” Richard asked. “Most likely, but she was paranoid over a lot of things. Most of which we still have no idea about.” James replied. “Ultimately, you know now, and she is here to stay and be safe.” Victoria replied as everyone started to calm down more.

“Yes...So you picked him to watch over her? I gotta say James, that's a ballsy decision even for you...but I suppose I understand your reasoning.” Richard replied. “Yes I agree, and we are not going to tell her about her parents till she’s older.” James explained. “You mean till you're ready to deal with a younger version of Allison? Oh that will be entertaining to watch.” Richard replied with a chuckle. “Richard…” Victoria scolded lightly before shaking her head. “Either way she will find out eventually, and when that happens, we all will have to deal with it.” She continued firmly before sighing and picking up Angel’s profile from James’ desk. “Now that you do know, you’ll want to look into this.” she said handing Richard the folder.

Richard’s brow furrowed when he received the folder before looking into it curiously. “She got hurt? By who?” Richard asked a flair of anger showing once more. “We don’t know, she refused to say, hopefully Mr. Caster can eventually get that information.” Victoria replied calmly. “Yes, I hope so too.” Richard replied looking over the rest of the profile. “James, do you mind sending me this as it gets updated, please?” Richard asked looking up at him in the eye. James nodded. “Of course, it’s the least I can do after keeping it all a secret for so long, just don’t go trying to in enlist her to your department.'' James replies with a hint of a warning. “Of course not, I could already tell that she wouldn’t want to be in my department.” Richard replied simply. “Even after just one meeting?” Victoria asked. “It was obvious when I asked for her name that she wanted to say much more, of course, I was being an ass, I'll have to remedy that and give a better first meeting.” Richard replied with a sigh. “It'll take time but, I think she’ll warm up to you eventually, Uncle Richard.” Victoria replied playfully. “Don’t call me that…”Richard replied as James laughed from behind his desk.

---

With Angel and Darrien...

Over the first hour Darrien drove around the city showing the location of the city’s biggest attractions like the museum and the park. A few things like the museum she had actually already seen thanks to some friends of hers that gave all the kids on the north side a field trip or two. This helped Angel open up enough to ask questions and answer a few of her own. “So you transferred to Mr. Conner’s department, what did you do before that?” Angel asked curiously as Darrien was nearing the beach to the east side of the city. “Honestly, I was an assassin and mercenary, I hope that doesn’t scare you or anything.” Darrien replied expecting her to be at least a little freaked out. “No, Death is natural and in some cases it needs help to be done. If this organization is doing what it's supposed to with keeping peace and all, I could only imagine that there are a few individuals that are as easily convinced.” Angel replied simply. Darrien blinked for a moment while he parked that car. “That….is one way to look at it.” Darrien admitted quickly realizing that she had more wisdom than she let on.

While they got out of the car Darrien then asked her a question. “What kinds of things can you do already?” He asked, figuring that it would be easiest just to ask her point blank. As Darrien led the way to their destination Angel took a second to think on it before replying, all the while bobbing and weaving to keep up with Darrien. “I’d say I'm decent with electronics and mechanics, not so much the software parts but everything else I'd say I'm good with, I can cook and bake,um I learn quickly and….”Angel began as someone accidentally ran into darrien and then rushed past Angel. She saw what really happened and snagged back what was taken before moving the match her stride with Darrien while giving back his wallet.

“And as I was saying, I’ve learned not to keep my wallet in my back pocket.” Angel replied as Darrien took back his wallet and looked back at the man who just realized that his stolen good was gone. Darrien hummed before resuming their pace. “And good observation skills and as well as an excellent sleight of hand. You don’t use that often do you?” Darrien asked simply. “Only when I absolutely need to, I try to survive without it if I can, but I'll admit it come in handy for various reasons.” Angel replied honestly. “Indeed, including the robin hood act of stealing back.” Darrien pointed out as the place he picked came into view. “Exactly. Um besides that I think that’s all I can think of.” Angel replied eyeing the place curiously as they got closer. “That’s fine, we will find any and all of your skills as time goes on. Anyways here we are.” Darrien said, moving to open the door for her. Angel walked up to it and looked at him. “Am I even allowed in here? It’s a bar.” She pointed out. “With me around it’s fine come on.” Darrien said, ushering her inside and to a small table.

On the way in he said something to the bartender before taking his seat. Before Angel could ask a shot of the same looking drink was set in front of each of them along with a menu. “Um I’m not allowed to drink.” Angel pointed out, eyeing him with confused curiosity. “Correction you are not allowed to go out drinking, this is one single shot in front of a responsible adult, call it a taste test.” Darrien replied by lifting up his shot and taking off the multicolored feather off the rim to twirl it between his fingers. Angel hummed looking down at the glass and then back up at him. “Why get me a shot at all?” Angel asked, tilting her head slightly.

Darrien nodded, understanding her hesitance. “Consider this a representation of equality, I may be seen as your superior at work but between us, i’d like us to be equals, no matter ages.” Darrien replied honestly. “You’d want me to be your equal?” Angel asked, still unsure. Darrien nodded again. “I feel treating you as an equal will help you grow and help me learn about you more as a person, and of course vise versa, does that sound fair?’ Darrien asked simply. Angel lifted her own glass after a moment taking the feather and looking at it between her fingers. “I’ve never been seen as an equal before, and this morning I didn’t think that would change, looks like this is a blessing in disguise…”Angel commented before placing her feather down on the table. “Kinda like alcohol from what I hear, but yes I believe being equal is fair.” Angel replied with a determined smile as she held out her blue-colored shot to him. Darrien let out a small smile like a smirk of his own. “Good, to blessings in disguise.” Darrien toasted before they clinked their glass and downed their drinks.

#writing #writing ideas #national novel writing month #nanowrimo #original fiction

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pixieluv4-blog · 1 year

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What anime is this - I'm going crazy

I am beginning to think I just freaking imagined this anime because I cannot find it anywhere. I know I've watched it at least twice!!!

to start - it is not "my little monster" - although it is VERY similar which is why i liked it. I actually found my little monster after watching it and was blown away by how similar they are. '

Heres what I remember:

- has bad boy type main love interest that also seems very beatial/animalistic in nature and temperament

- takes place in a highschool

- I cannot remember if the main girl is an air head or studious but she looks eerily similar to the main character in my little monster

- like 3/4s of the way through the love story is all but cemented between the main characters when out of no where the main heroine's childhood best friend, who use to be fat but is now skinny and handsome, returns and forms a love triangle.

- I DISTINCTLY remember an episode where there was some kind of school trip where the guys and girls were put into different cabins. By the end of the week the guys had gone practically feral and they end up "attacking" the girl's cabin because they are just desperate and crazy. Happened during a thunderstorm.

- Main guy love interest has longer black hair, best friend love interest has really short light brown hair and is very tan. The friend love interest is also always hungry.

I feel like it has "beast" in the name.. like my lovely beast or I tamed the beast... something like that because the whole beginning premise of the anime is the guy is basically a human beast and she tames him and teaches him to be somewhat normal. But he still acts very animalistic in how he shows affection and pouts and stuff. Ironically so does the best friend. So when they but heads you see two different dogs appear over their heads and growling at eachother.

Please someone help me I am going crazy.

#anime #whatanimeisthis #please help #name that anime #otaku #calling all anime fans #what is this show #highschool #romcom

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multi-lefaiye · 2 years

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hey bestie, you asked this a whole ago for the alphabet soump game and i never answered. haha whoops

anyway! i do have a Z! actually, quite a few of them! but i am going to limit myself to talking about one that doesn't have his own story anymore but is still important to me: Zack Carnelian.

zack is more important for sentimental reasons than anything--i created him around the time i realized that i'm trans, and y'know i'm not SAYING that creating a transmasc were-hyena fella had anything to do with that but,,,,, it didn't NOT have anything to do with that.

(should clarify that zack wasn't my first transmasc oc, nor is he even one i projected onto that much, but y'know. don't think it's a coincidence that he was my favorite oc at the time i Realized Things.)

i kinda wanna redraw him soon tbh, i haven't paid any attention to him in a while </3

anyway, zack was created as one half of an oc duo that my partner and i created together, based on the premise of like. enemies to lovers, with one being based on a lion and the other on a hyena. zack was the hyena, and my partner's OC ari was the lion!!! their relationship was fucked up and codependent and toxic as hell, but we had a lot of fun developing them and their dynamic.

the basic premise for zack as a character is that he's a member of a gang of were-creatures who generally cause trouble and get in fights with another, more powerful and influential group of were-creatures (which ari was a part of). i don't quite remember how ari and zack ended up meeting and getting together, but yeah they were the epitome of Be Gay Do Crimes and i love that for them.

anyway uhh misc. zack facts:

i have started two separate fanfics starring him that i didn't end up finishing--one for mysmes and one for star days.

zack is a deeply fucked up little dude and his ideas about relationships and how they should work are not healthy in the slightest. to be fair, ari isn't much better, and that's why those two are perfect for each other

i say "little dude" but he's like 6'2" i think--tall king!

i never really figured out how the were-hyena thing would work for him, so just imagine a werewolf but a hyena. there we go :D

his morals are best described as "whatever makes the joke funniest"

and a picrew of him <3 minus his tattoos unfortunately

[Image Description: A picrew of my OC Zack Carnelian, a man with tan skin, pointed ears, and deep shadows under his eyes. He has short, fluffy black hair and scars on one side of his face, as well as a notch in his right eyebrow. He's grinning widely at the viewer, showing his sharp teeth. Zack is wearing a black tank top under a purple leather jacket. Behind him is a white circle, behind which are the bisexual and demiboy flags. End ID.]

#long post #oc ask game #talk to the bunnykitty #cryptid under the porch #zack is a little menace (in spirit)#i do kinda wanna bring him back for something but i genuinely don't have ideas for him #he is very important for sentimental reasons tho #love the himb #romance cw

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amarits · 4 years

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M: Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?

So very many, but rather than go through them I’ll share a scene from Camp Murder. I’ve got a couple chapters of that one written that I keep almost posting. The kiddos are middle-schoolers attending a summer camp, and Roy is having a good ol’ sulk in the woods.

Roy had been following rabbit tracks for ten minutes when they stopped abruptly at a set of large cat tracks. He crouched beside them, studying the shape of the pads. Were those cougar tracks? This close to camp? He took pictures of the clearer tracks and started following them. Backwards, of course. The last thing he wanted was to actually find a cougar. But maybe if he could get an idea of where it was coming from, he’d know if it was a risk to the campers. Usually, cougars avoided areas with people.

He followed the tracks on a winding path out of the thinner, friendlier woods that surrounded the camp into the thicker, untamed forest that stretched on for half the state. He and Ollie had hiked for days through this and never gotten close to the other side.

In a mile, the flat ground would start rising in small hills that eventually became mountains. They usually did a camp trip to one of the smaller hills at the end of the week, and had a cookout at the top to celebrate “conquering the mountain”. He snorted. It was ridiculous. He and Ollie had climbed real mountains and that took days, not a couple of hours of casual walking.

He lost the tracks at one of the low rock outcrops stretching out from the mountains. That was probably good. The mountains were where the cougar was supposed to be. Far from camp, and unlikely to bother them when they came out as a group. Still raised the question of why it had come so close in the first place, but maybe it was hunting a deer.

He walked around the outcrop, looking for more tracks. He should probably start heading back towards camp. It was already going to be almost dinner by the time he got back, and Ollie was only gonna get angrier the later he was.

His eye caught on another cougar track and he turned to inspect it. It was next to what appeared to be… shoe prints?

“Hello!” a voice exclaimed at the same time that a small figure swung down to dangle upside down from a branch directly in front of him.

“Jiminy Christmas!” Roy exclaimed, stumbling backwards and raising his hands in… was that supposed to be a martial arts position? Stupid. What was he going to do, karate chop the threat?

“What are you doing out here?” the figure asked. Now that it was still, Roy could see it was a boy about his age with black hair, blue eyes, and deeply tan skin. Mexican, maybe? His bright orange camp shirt hung down around his shoulders and he swung back and forth on the branch by his knees.

“What am I doing out here?” Roy asked. “What are you doing out here?”

“Talking to the birds.” He had an accent, but it didn’t sound the same as the Mexican kids he’d met. More European.

“Talking to the… What are you, a Disney princess?”

The boy grinned like that was a compliment instead of the insult it was meant to be. “Maybe.” He swung harder and let go with his legs, flipping to land on his feet in front of Roy. Roy stepped back to avoid being hit, but shouldn’t have bothered. The boy moved like he was born to fly.

“I’m Dick,” he said.

“Roy,” Roy replied cautiously. “Do you even know where you are?”

“Sure!” Dick exclaimed, turning his whole body to point. “Camp is that way.”

Roy silently pointed in the actual direction, about 40 degrees clockwise from where Dick was pointing. He’d made sure to keep track of landmarks and the sun while he walked so he wouldn’t get lost.

Dick kept his finger raised. “What makes you think you’re more right than me?”

“I live here,” Roy said, also continuing to point steadily in the correct direction. He could keep this up as long as Dick could.

“In the woods?”

“Basically. My dad’s a counselor. I’ve been here for months.”

“Huh,” Dick said, mulling this over as he lowered his hand. “That sounds awful.”

“I know, right!” Roy exclaimed. It was the first time someone had said “awful” instead of “great” or “fun” and he felt vindicated. “I am so tired of everything. You’re new, though. Why’d you skip out on activities?”

“They were trying to make us sit still and make bracelets and it was sooooo boring.” As if to punctuate his point, Dick flipped backwards into a perfect handstand, and then just stayed on his hands while he talked. “I asked to use the bathroom, and then a bird was singing at me and that seemed way more interesting so I followed it.” He whistled in an actually pretty good imitation of a chickadee.

Roy felt weird talking to Dick’s feet, so he crouched to look him in the face. “Well, you’re lucky I found you. You’d probably be lost forever and die.”

Dick didn’t seem at all concerned, which probably meant he was stupid, but at least he was interesting.

“What are you doing out here?” Dick asked, swinging his legs back and forth without his upper body moving at all.

“Following cougar tracks.”

“Cougar?” Dick asked. Roy wasn’t sure if he didn’t recognize it because he was used to a different name for them or if English wasn’t his first language.

“Puma,” Roy said. “Mountain lion.”

At ‘lion’, Dick’s face lit up and he flipped back onto his feet. “Where?”

Roy pointed at the ground under him. “You’ve trampled all over that one.”

Dick lifted a foot and looked down at the muddled track under his hand and shoe prints. “Whoops.”

“I’m sure there’s another one nearby,” Roy said, searching in the direction the cat seemed to be coming from. There were more shoe prints. Big ones. He glanced back at Dick’s feet. Definitely too big to be his. Poachers, maybe? He scowled. That would explain why the cougar left its territory.

“What?” Dick asked, trailing behind him.

“Nothing. Here.” He pointed at another pawprint. This one also had a shoe print overlapping the edge, but it was cleaner.

Dick hurried over and stared down at it. His eyes narrowed and he tilted his head. “That’s not a lion track,” he said. “It’s a tiger.”

“It’s not either,” Roy said. “Mountain lion. Lions and tigers live in Africa.”

“Not all of them,” Dick said.

“All the ones that don’t live in zoos.”

“Nuh uh,” Dick insisted. “We have a tiger.” Roy rolled his eyes at the blatant lie. “We used to have a lion too, so I know what the prints look like.”

“Mountain lion,” Roy repeated. “You don’t even know what animal I’m talking about. Mountain lions are smaller and eat deer.” He held a hand at about waist height. He thought that was right. He’d never actually seen one in person, though he and Ollie had turned around a few times when they saw tracks.

“Then this is definitely a tiger,” Dick said. “Because the prints are tiger-sized.”

Roy gave up on trying to talk sense to him, following the shoe prints instead. It looked like there was more than one style of tread, but it was harder to tell on the dusty slope up the rocky outcrop. They were big, though. Definitely not kids. Could be counselors, but he didn’t think it was likely. Could be a band of poachers. They followed the cougar, not perfectly aligned, but definitely traveling parallel.

“What are you doing?” Dick asked, following. While Roy tried to walk lightly, separate from the trail he was following, Dick barged through like Godzilla entering Tokyo, destroying the path underfoot. At least we’ll have no problem knowing which way we came from, he thought, annoyed.

“Tracking poachers,” he said. “Probably. I guess they could just be campers.” He didn’t think so, though. Not with how closely they were following the cougar tracks.

Though to be fair, that’s what he and Dick were doing too.

Dick gasped. “They want to kill the tiger?”

Roy felt the last of his patience slipping away. “It’s not a ti—!” His voice didn’t so much trail off as just stop, the rest of his word swallowed by a silence more complete than the end of their voices and steps. There were no bird sounds, he realized. He should have noticed earlier. Prey animals disappeared when predators were around.

At the top of the outcrop, a man lay much too still, a bleeding gash in his side. Roy knew he was dead before his inhale became an exhale. There was too much blood. His skin was too white. He thought he could see actual guts through the sliced skin, and he was not going to throw up. He was not going to…

Oh, god. He had to at least check. He knew first aid and CPR and pretty much every emergency medical procedure they’d teach a thirteen-year-old. Normally when he was hiking, he had a simple med kit in his pouch, but he didn’t have it, didn’t have any gear at all because he hadn’t planned to be hiking. Stupid, stupid. Ollie had taught him to always be prepared, and the first time his training would have come in handy he was completely useless.

Dick reached the man before him, crouching down and pressing his hands against the open wound. Roy felt like he was pushing through water while Dick ran alongside him on the shore. He finally reached them what felt like minutes later, falling to his knees next to Dick and reaching for the man’s throat. He adjusted his fingers three times.

“There’s no pulse,” he said, his voice sounding hollow to his own ears.

“There must be something we can do!” Dick exclaimed, pushing harder against the wound.

“We can’t save someone who’s dead!” Roy yelled. His eyes lingered on the blood trailing over Dick’s hands. It took his brain a few minutes to register why. The wound was fresh, or it wouldn’t still be bleeding. Recent like the cougar attacked the man, then wandered a couple of miles towards the camp?

Or recent like it came back?

“Dick, we need to go,” Roy said, standing up and backing away, looking into the woods around them for any sign of the big cat. Or anything, really. The birds were still silent. He didn’t hear any rabbits, or squirrels. He didn’t hear anything.

“We can’t just leave him!” Dick said, turning tear-filled eyes towards him.

“He’s dead!” Roy repeated. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. No signal, of course. It barely even got a signal in the camp. He and Ollie had high-powered walkie talkies and SEND devices for hiking, but he didn’t bring his because he was stupid.

He turned on the camera instead and started taking pictures. The body with Dick still holding his blood-stained hands to the wound. The surroundings. Anything that might be a landmark.

“What are you doing?” Dick snapped, like he thought Roy was some kind of sick paparazzi.

“We need to go get someone and bring them back here,” Roy said. “I can get us back to the camp, but I’m not positive I could find our way back here.” He pocketed his phone, still backing up. “Come on, I’m serious. We need to…”

He stopped. Dick’s head snapped up at the same time, so Roy knew he heard it too. Something that sounded like deep breathing, like a motorcycle revving up, like purring broadcast through a sound speaker. He jerked his head back and forth, trying to find the source and not seeing anything.

You weren’t supposed to run from a cougar. They’d think you were easy prey. You were supposed to try to look big and intimidating. Fight back if you had to. Grab a stick or a rock.

But he didn’t see it. It might not see them. It would be a lot simpler to just not encounter it at all than to convince it they weren't easy prey. They were such easy prey. Who was he even trying to kid?

“Run,” he whispered.

Dick didn’t have to be told twice.

#roy harper #dick grayson #batman #young justice #batfam #ask game #ask #anon #wip #camp murder

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spicycreativity · 3 years

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Fanfic Appreciation Week Day 7: A Place Where I Can Breathe

Yes, folks, I'm appreciating my own darn fanfic for the final day of Fanfic Appreciation Week because I worked really hard on it and it was a labor of love for/with one of my QPPs, my roommate, the man who got me into Sanders Sides: @\cadeorade-powercade (That's him in the aesthetic board)

Allow me to present the director's commentary for A Place Where I Can Breathe:

Content Warnings: All content warnings mentioned in the fic apply.

Chapter 1: I actually wrote this fairly late in the game. It's meant to serve as a prologue and orient the viewer in the universe, s opposed to staring on Chapter 2, which just throws the viewer in without context. I think it was a good choice, as it also allowed me to introduce the concept of the Sides having power focuses early on.

The Premise: Cade is a Virgil stan and he was getting frustrated looking for Virgil fic. He was finding a lot of stuff written without nuance by young authors, a sort of "by teenagers for teenagers" type deal. We are not teenagers, so we both have a hard time relating to that kind of teen angst fic, as we're not the target audience. So he asked me to write him a Virgil fic and we worked together to identify what plot he wanted, what the Mindscape looked like, and what quirks the Sides have. So a lot of this fic is quite gratuitous and self-indulgent

The Title: Lizzie McAlpine has a song called "Apple Pie" which includes the lyric "I've been running around trying to find a place where I can breathe." Apple Pie SCREAMS Moceit to me, and I had taken notice of the lyric and wanted to use it as the title for a Moceit fic. I didn't really have an idea beyond that, and when Cade asked me to write this fic, I realized it was actually perfect and summed up Virgil's inner struggle quite nicely. So cheers to "A Place Where I Can Breathe," the Moceit Fic That Wasn't

-Cade asked me specifically to include Virgil having a spider and I wrote nearly the whole fic without doing so, then had to go back and sprinkle some references in. I think I managed 2 total.

Chapter 2:

"Uh, how about I hold off on that until I actually see my room?" Virgil stared expectantly at Roman, who bounced on his toes. "Lead on, Macduff."

"That's not the line and you know it," Roman complained, but he turned to lead Virgil to his room. "It's ' lay on, Macduff,' and--"

-This fic was originally supposed to reach a climax with a confrontation between Remus and Roman, and "lay on, Macduff" would come back as a brick joke. Unfortunately, the original ending was a result of me getting tired and lazy, so I had to go back and fix it, and we lost the Roman-Remus confrontation.

It was hard for Virgil to not shudder at the sudden heat and weight on him. With his senses already open and taking in more information than his brain seemed to want to process, touch was an added stressor, more unwanted sensory input.

-Virgil being touch-averse is a direct shoutout to Cade, who is also touch-averse.

Roman had already transformed the living room: metallic streamers of purple and black stretched across the corners of the ceiling, and shiny balloons spelling out A-N-X-E-I-T-Y hovered above the TV.

-Upon first writing, Virgil had already given the upstairs crew his name, so the banner spelled out "VIRIGL" which is way funnier than "ANXEITY." But then his name reveal became a plot point so I had to go back and change it.

-Let! Virgil! Be! Mean!

-Virgil's line about hearing refrigerator noise when Roman talks is another shout-out to Cade, who has leveled that accusation at me

A small, cruel part of him protested at the idea that he would need special treatment and desperately wanted to throw it back in Patton's face. He wasn't a sweetheart, he wasn't a baby. He didn't need to crawl into a blanket fort with Dad just because he was a little stressed.

-Remus calls Janus "Janus Geminus" because I was tired and couldn't come up with a pun. "Geminus" is one of the Roman god Janus' epithets; another is "Pater" meaning "Father." That led to a conversation about Remus deliberately confusing Patton by calling Janus "Daddy," but I couldn't think of a clean way to fit the explanation into the narrative, so I stuck with "Geminus."

Chapter 3:

"There's nothing normal about that! " Roman stared in horror at the coffee massacre Virgil had orchestrated. What had once been a respectable (if not very tasty) cup of black coffee was now part of a 1:1 coffee to milk suspension, the liquid a tasteful shade of tan suitable for business casual trousers or a show-ready chihuahua.

-Cade is a certified Nightmare Man and came up with Virgil's horrifying coffee order after I asked him about it. Keep an eye out for Janus' equally horrifying coffee order later in the fic.

1) Shouts out the fact that Janus is canonically a Dostoevsky fan

Chapter 4:

Janus smiled at him. "Where reason fails, the Devil helps." He fussed with his gloves and straightened his capelet. "It's showtime."

-I fucking love Crime and Punishment. Look at me. Look at me. I fucking love Crime and Punishment. Janus' quoting Raskolnikov serves multiple purposes:

2) Lampshades the fact that Roman just conveniently happened to be alone in the living room, because I didn't want to waste time getting him there. That makes me, the author, the Devil

3) Foreshadows the impending disaster. When Raskolnikov says this line it is because he had planned to commit axe murder. The axe he was planning to steal had been moved, but he finds another, different axe to use. Raskolnikov messes up the murder and ends up killing an innocent witness in addition to his intended target. Janus messes up his manipulation attempt and ends up murdering Roman's self esteem

-I was going to include a reference to Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead (Remus' line "debauchery and vomit" was originally going to be "blood, love, and rhetoric") but I didn't because... Uh... Hm. Why didn't I do that. Maybe I just forgot about it???

-Roman is too stubborn to manipulate for long and that is a fact.

"I was pretty much done anyway," Remus said. "There's only so much debauchery and vomit you can fit into one story."

-Cade specifically ask me that nobody cry in this fic, but after I had Janus eviscerate Roman I knew he couldn't not cry a little. I kept it to a minimum because there's already a billion fucking fics about [literally any Side] crying on the shoulder of [literally any other Side] and it's really just not interesting to either of us.

-It didn't come up because it doesn't matter, but Thomas dreamed he was participating in the exact Dionysian orgy that took place in The Secret History because it's my fic and I said so.

Chapter 5:

He just sat back and watched and tugged at his hair while Janus spooned mound after mound of crisp white sugar into his mug and Virgil poured his customary eight fluid ounces of milk into his own mug.

-Cade strikes again. Virgil's coffee order is equal amounts milk to coffee; Janus' is equal parts sugar to coffee. He had asked me to include a scene where Roman catches Janus massacring his coffee and is appropriately horrified, but I uhh... Didn't write it. I still might include it as an omake someday.

-I imagine that Roman feels really strongly about dragons vs wyverns, and Remus just pretends to give a shit because he thinks it's funny to wind Roman up. Fortunately for me but unfortunately for my sense of realism in writing, I can't relate because I adore my sister and we get along perfectly almost 100% of the time.

"You shut us down every chance you get!" Remus said, baring his teeth. "How would you like it if your pens never wrote, hm? What would you do with all those thoughts in your head?"

-I do wish I had developed the concept of power focuses a bit more, established rules and such. Basically, Patton is always on the prowl for wrongthink and actively represses it, which in turn breaks or sabotages the Dark Sides' power focus.

Chapter 6: This chapter really should have been Janus and Roman but I was really tired and didn't want to bother with it. Plus, you know, Moceit. This chapter was meant to demonstrate how the characters would get along without Virgil nannying them. There's friction, but everyone is making a conscious, deliberate effort to get along because they love Virgil, and love is a series of choices you make.

I chose "Leo" as the answer for the answer to the crossword clue instead of "Virgo," because my other QPP is a Leo. She'll never read this fic, but I did it anyway because I love her. (Trivia: My sign is Virgo, so it was really a choice between shouting her out and shouting me out, and the last chapter is self-indulgent enough, thank you).

Chapter 7: I was gonna write a fic where all the Sides watched Cats the Musical because I was going through a phase. Then Cade requested this so I combined the two ideas. By this point I was fucking exhausted, and that's the only thing that saved you and the rest of the world from me writing the Sides riffing on the movie scene-by-scene. I could come up with snarky commentary for almost every, if not every single song from the movie.

Most notably, I cut a Patton-Remus interaction where Remus declares his love for Grizabella and Patton gets all staryy-eyed about Remus connecting with the idea of rising above rejection and being loved and accepted only for Remus to shoot him down and explain that he just likes that she got to die in a tire fire.

Other cut scenes include Janus quietly pretending not to go feral over Mister Mistoffelees, Patton full-on fucking sobbing over Grizabella and the kittens, and Logan experiencing a deep, soulful kinship with Munkustrap during Of The Awefull Battle of the Pekes and the Pollices (and henceforth introducing the phrase "like herding cats" into his regular vocabulary

#spicypost #fanfic appreciation week

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pkg4mumtown · 4 years

Text

Welcome to Hawkins PD (Ch. 1)

AN: Finally got far enough along in writing to post the beginning. First Hopper fic so...yea...let me know what you think so far.

Warnings: smoking, cursing, y’know normal Hopper stuff, Female Reader

Summary: You’re a new officer being assigned to Hawkins without being warned of the attractive but grumpy Chief.

Title: The New Kid

Chapter 1 of ?

Chief Hopper slammed the door of his Blazer shut, squinting at brightness of the sun he had underestimated. He set his wide-brimmed hat firmly on his head and slid aviators on his face, all while never dropping the lit cigarette hanging from his lips. He strode over to a white-haired, stocky man who stood just inside the open gates of the Indiana Law Enforcement Academy. The older man gave Hopper a pointed look as he strode through the parking lot.

“C'mon, Hop, no squares on academy grounds,” the man sighed. He wore a tan uniform and wide brimmed drill instructor cover on his head, like the other instructors at the academy

Hopper grimaced around the cigarette, pulling it from his lips and flicking it off to the side, “I’ll pick it up when I leave, Cap.”

The white-haired man shook his head and laughed softly, leading Hopper inside the confines of the academy, “Haven’t been a Captain in years.”

“Bridge, you’ll always be ‘Captain’ to me,” Hopper slapped Bridge on the back. “What do they have you doin’ now?”

“Basic Training Commander,” Bridge winked and tipped his hat.

“Look at you,” Hopper chuckled and shoved Bridge’s shoulder.

They walked in silence for a minute before Hopper finally spoke up, “So, why’d you call me here? I’m betting it wasn’t just to catch up,” Hopper looked over at the shorter man, who sighed.

“Hop…” Bridge started, “…the director, deputy director, and myself have decided to attach another officer to your station.”

Hopper stopped walking all together, giving the man an incredulous glare, “Excuse me?”

“Look, after the lab and Byers fiasco, you’re lucky we're not adding ten times that. It was a shit show and the media were hounding us as to why Hawkins has only six officers, three of which never seem to leave the office,” Bridge stressed. “We had the Roane County Sheriff’s patrolling the town for you and your boys, just to keep the citizens at bay, while you were doing fuck knows what, Jim.”

“While I was fixing the problem,” Hopper growled. “You have no idea what was going on!”

“Why don’t you enlighten me?” Bridge challenged with raised eyebrows.

Hopper ignored him and kept walking with no direction, “And anyway, the lab is empty now.”

“The ratio is still six to thirty thousand people, man. Detroit's ratio is one to four hundred.”

“Detroit is also the ‘Murder Capital’, is it not?” Hopper huffed. “Why’d you call me here, then? You could have told me this over the phone, so I could at least throw something after I hung up on you!” he raised his voice slightly, itching to pull out another cigarette.

Bridge smirked and tilted his head up, indicating Jim to follow him. The sound of gunfire grew louder with every step, telling Hopper that they were heading to the range.

“Thought you might want to check out who we’re assigning to you,” Bridge said as they finally came to a stop.

Below them stood about twenty recruits in unmarked tan uniforms with black ties, which would change according to their departments after they graduated.

“That one,” Bridge pointed to the recruit on the far left, a moderately tall woman with her hair pulled back into a bun. With her strong shoulders and stern expression, she definitely looked like she could hold her own amongst the males in the class.

Hopper tilted his glasses down and scrunched his nose at the brightness, “The girl?”

“Jesus Christ, Hop,” Bridge sighed.

“It was a question!” Hopper retorted back, huffing at Bridge's insinuation.

Bridge rolled his eyes and nodded, “Yea, the female recruit.”

At that moment, one of the drill instructors shouted a nearly indistinct command. It was unintelligible to Hopper’s ears, yet all the recruits responded immediately by clutching their right hands to their chests. Hopper watched, intrigued, as they fired the last of their rounds single handedly. His gaze swept over all the recruits and their targets before focusing back on the female as she shoved the barrel of the revolver between her duty belt and her trousers. Hopper’s expression turned impressed as he peeked over his sunglasses while she flicked open a pouch, retrieved a speed loader, and reloaded before shooting again.

“When did you guys start grading one-armed reloads?” Hopper wondered.

“When we finally got speed loaders that weren’t shit,” Bridge chuckled and shrugged. “Better to make it mandatory so they don’t fumble later.”

Hopper stuck around for a while, to make his trip worthwhile. He watched from a shaded area with Bridge as they started a defensive tactics lesson, always keeping his eye on the girl. He eyed her and a male recruit curiously as they circled one another in a scrimmage. The male was aggressive and lunging in order for her to practice a specific maneuver, which she did fairly well after deflecting some of his hits. The ferocity in which she fought back made Hopper curse under his breath in admiration.

“So, what d'ya think, Hop?”

“Why her?”

Bridge groaned, “Hop…I thought you were better than this!”

“Better than what? I’m just asking why her specifically!” he raised his voice in irritation.

“Because she’s a woman?” Bridge retorted and raised an eyebrow at him.

“No, man, because she actually has skill. Like the Sheriff’s or Trooper material, not for some boring town like Hawkins. I’m just…” Hopper sighed, “I don’t know, it feels like a waste of resources plus she'd be bored off her ass.”

“We don’t decide their departments, Hop, she chose local police over Staties,” Bridge pursed his lips and chuckled to himself.

“What?”

“Maybe she’ll kick your boys into gear. Lord knows, your station could use some energy.”

Hopper just rolled his eyes as the dig.

“Her station request, though, was anywhere but her hometown and we were already planning to add another officer to your station anyway,” Bridge revealed.

“Hmm,” Hopper grunted, “bad family relationship?

“Probably a question for her, not me.”

I shrugged on my heavy, oversized, black duffle bag and picked up my equally oversized briefcase before leaving my sleeping quarters for the last time. With my free hand, I pushed my aviators, a graduation gift from my best friend, up the bridge of my nose. Said friend had already departed the premises after the graduation since it was a bit of a drive back to our hometown.

The academy grounds were a sea of uniforms from local police to Sheriff’s deputies to Staties, with various shades of blue and tan. My uniform, however, was the only blue one with a “Hawkins Police Dept.” patch. I didn’t know whether to be disappointed or excited when I found out, since the town had a reputation of being quiet, save for the couple occurrences over the last two years.

I made my way back near the front of the Academy, pushing through the sea of people still lingering while they congratulated the new officers. I peered over people’s shoulders, looking for the exit and finally seeing the open gate. I spied the bus stop just beyond it and stepped into the parking lot, only to be stopped when I heard my name called.

“Y/L/N!”

I snapped my head to the left, seeing Commander Bridge leaning against a Blazer with another tall officer. He waved me over with his hand and said something to the officer. I glanced at the side of the Blazer, my eyes widening when I saw “Chief” in bold print followed by “Hawkins Police Dept.” Not an officer, then.

I stood straighter as I approached my new boss. His all tan uniform was almost form fitting his large frame, while a wide-brimmed hat adorned his head. As I approached, he took his sunglasses off and hung them on his shirt, revealing impossibly bright blue eyes. I let my eyes trail up his form, lingering on his lips pulling in as he took a drag from the cigarette in his mouth.

“Officer Y/L/N, this is your new boss,” Bridge motioned with a wave of his hand.

“Chief Hopper,” the man stuck his hand out. I couldn’t help but rake my eyes over the dark blonde beard adorning his cheeks and framing his lips.

I quickly dropped my briefcase to the ground and stuck my hand out as well, “Officer Y/L/N, sir.”

“Yea,” Hopper chuckled and pointed his thumb at Bridge, “he said that. You can tone it down. Relax, you graduated.”

“Sorry, sir,” I apologized for no reason and paused. “Why are you here?”

“Bridge told me you dormed. Figured you might need a ride into town,” Hopper shrugged.

“Oh, well, you didn’t have to do that. I can take the bus, sir,” I gulped. An hour drive with my new, very attractive, boss? No, thanks.

“Well, I’m already here,” Hopper grunted out a sigh and grabbed my briefcase off the floor.

“Sir, no, I can—” I tried to stop him.

“For the love of God, Y/L/N, take a load off,” Hopper responded, almost annoyed with my behavior. He circled around to the back of the Blazer, “Any family you still have to say ‘bye’ to?”

“No, they didn’t quite approve of my career choice,” I murmured.

Hopper simply grunted as he opened the back hatch of the Blazer and tossed the briefcase not-so-gently in the bed. I shrugged my bag off and did the same, nearly jumping when he slammed it shut.

I turned back to Commander Bridge, offering him a smile and shaking his hand, “Thank you for everything, sir.”

Bridge laughed lowly and shook his head, reciprocating the handshake before slapping my shoulder, “Good luck, kid.”

I nodded and jumped into the passenger side of the Blazer, seeing the two men exchange goodbyes like old pals in the passenger mirror. I shook my leg nervously as the Chief rounded the Blazer and jumped in with a heavy sigh.

An hour drive and I’d already managed to annoy the shit out of him before the trip even started. Great.

Chapter 2

#jim hopper fanfiction #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x you #chief hopper x reader #chief hopper x you #chief hopper fanfiction #david harbour fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #Female reader

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sleepingrenjun · 5 years

Text

nervous | ML

the gorgeous banner was made by the one and only @hyuckiebabie

Genre ♡ angst, badboy!Mark Lee

Length ♡ 16.9k

Pairing ♡ Mark Lee x reader

Warnings ♡ character death, violence, making out, mild swearing, mild alcohol consumption, kinda mafia, uhh shitty parents? Basically just angsty badboy!Mark, it’s rather tragic I do apologise.

Playlist ♡ nervous playlist

Summary ♡ You find yourself falling deeper and deeper into Mark’s fiery touch despite the dislike you once felt for him. But Mark Lee is dangerous and nefarious despite his gentle desire to love and protect you; the two of you are star-crossed and you will forever be damned into the very pits of hell.

Your clothes were beginning to stick to your skin, the rain blurring each and every neon sign into one big mess of colour against the onyx canopy of the sky above the city. The faint sound of cars screeching along distant streets could only just be heard over the music blaring through your earphones. You stumbled ever so slightly against the sudden outcry of wind as you rounded a corner and looked up through your lashes to see the refreshingly familiar street which housed your favourite late night coffee shop. You looked down again in order to give your cloudy eyes a break, eyeing your slightly scuffed, and now very soggy converse as you trudged a little further until you made it to the door of your beloved safe haven.

You used your right shoulder to help you push the heavy door open, relieved to see that the lights were still on. You pulled your earphones out, shoving them into your tote bag unceremoniously.

“Oh hey, y/n,” you looked up to see Donghyuck smiling sleepily at you from his position behind the counter as he raised his golden hand in a small wave.

“Hi Hyuck,” you threw a lopsided smile in his direction before carefully drying the soles of your shoes on the mat which lay before you.

“It’s a little late for you, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I just got caught up with uni work, I guess,” you tell him as you take your phone out of your soaking wet hoodie pocket, before tapping on the screen, thus confirming that it was indeed later than you had realised, 10:53pm. He hummed in understanding as he continued to steam-clean the tea cups which sat on the polished granite in front of him.

Donghyuck studied at the same university as you and so he understood that sometimes the workload would cause you to spend hours on end in the dusty, old university library situated on the top floor of the main building. His major was in English literature, and if he wasn’t in the coffee shop working then he could often be found studying with his nose buried deep in a coffee-stained book with his exhausted round glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. Donghyuck was lovely, in every sense of the word. His strawberry blonde hair looked gorgeous against his honey-stained skin. He was warm and flamboyant and just, quite simply, alluring. His raspberry-stained lips were soft and full, just as his cheeks were. Donghyuck was the type to wear tight black jeans paired with an eccentric, ill-fitting jumper and a pair of beaten up doc martens, yet he wore it so well.

You weren’t exactly friends, but you had a sort of routine. You confided in eachother more often than you liked to admit, but only inside the safe environment of his workplace, you didn’t really speak at any other time. Every Thursday, without fail, you would stop by to order a latte from the lonely coffee shop that he worked at. You were studying fine art, which meant you had to spend a lot of time at the university, whether it was using the studios for various workshops, or losing yourself in copious amounts of books in the library in order to help you write extended essay after extended essay. With that said, it was usually between 7 and 8pm when you stopped by to order your coffee on your way home, hence Donghyucks concern.

“The usual?” he spoke up after a moment of tranquility.

“Mmm, please,” you hummed in response as you fiddled with the slippery metal of the rings on your fingers while you waited for the coffee you had been looking forward to for several hours prior. You took out your money and left the correct amount by the till and then proceeded to make your way quietly over to your usual round table before flopping down languidly, the table was situated by the window, allowing you to watch the world outside go by peacefully as you tapped your nails along the surface of your phone screen restlessly.

The coffee shop was warm and cozy, the smell of coffee beans welcoming anyone into the glowing space. Your weekly visits were something that you looked forward to now, although you did sometimes make an appearance at other times, Saturdays, for example. Occasionally you popped in for a cup of tea in the morning and engaged in polite conversation with Taeyong, the owner of the place. Taeyong was delightful, in a different way to Donghyuck, though. He was sharper and had a witty sense of humour to match the bubblegum shade of his hair. He was kind and wise beyond his years and so much more – but you didn’t have the same unspoken understanding with him that you had with Hyuck. Perhaps that’s why you looked forward to Thursdays, Donghyuck understood you without even trying, as did you with him.

Donghyuck slid the disposable cup onto the table in front of you, snapping you out of your daze.

“Thanks,” you smiled up at him before you realised that he was, in fact, now sitting opposite you at the table, with a coffee of his own in hand.

“What’s on your mind, princess?” he asked you with a cheeky smile as he leaned back into the chair before sipping a little of his coffee. You chuckled at the nickname and hummed as you thought of how to reply.

“I’m just exhausted, Hyuck,” you said as you let your head flop softly onto the rough wooden surface of the table before closing your eyes gently.

“Uni deadlines are exasperating; my parents are driving me mad and I just really need to sleep” you breathed out drowsily as you peered up at the boy through half closed eyes.

“Yeah, I feel the same. Uni has me really stressed too,” he cupped his steaming coffee with both hands and leaned across the table, “what’s up with your parents, though?” he squinted at you, genuine curiosity adorning his friendly face.

“Just the usual, you know,” you sighed after taking a long gulp of coffee, not feeling up to explaining everything to him at 11pm on a Thursday. Donghyuck vaguely knew about your relationship with your parents, if you could even call it that, although you liked to avoid bringing your friends into that side of your life; you weren’t proud of it.

“Care to elaborate, princess?“ Your reply was soon cut off by the sound of the front door opening suddenly and the fierceness of the storm outside immediately filled the peaceful room, the sound of the ‘open’ sign hitting against the wall alerting you to the fact that you were no longer alone in the coffee shop.

You looked up in surprise and proceeded to try to fix your composure at the realization that the person who had entered the premises was none other than Donghyucks best friend; Mark Lee. The two were polar opposites. While Donghyuck was late nights by a crackling fire and cups of steaming hot chocolate, lazy afternoons spent surrounded by blankets and makeshift pillow-forts and summer evenings spent reading during the golden hour. Mark Lee was everything that Donghyucks general aura protested against – he was burning hot embers and cigarettes, sunrises and motorbikes screeching along empty streets at 4am. Mark Lee was cold yet hotheaded and harsh and a lot to take in. You had only seen him from a distance, picking Donghyuck up from the university on the back of his bike. The two were so different but they were the best of friends and it baffled you.

“Hyuck, what the fuck is taking you so long? Let’s go-,” he voiced as he ran his hand through his damp hair and shook his head a little, completely ignoring your presence. He was clearly irked about something, his eyes were dark, black almost, and he was clutching his bike helmet under his arm tightly. Hyuck looked across the room to the vintage clock which was perched just above the coffee machine behind the counter, before muttering a profanity to himself and looking up at you with apologetic eyes.

“Shit sorry y/n, I completely forgot, I was meant to close up 10 minutes ago,” it was nearing 11:15pm now.

“Oh yeah, it’s fine, I should probably get back home anyways” you offered in acceptance before tearing your eyes away from the two boys in front of you to look out of the window at the storm you would have to brave once more. Mark cleared his throat as he made eye contact with you for the first time,

“are you two done now or…?”

Mark opened the door, a subtle hint that he was leaving and that Donghyuck should hurry up if he wanted to accompany him to wherever the two were off to at this hour. You scoffed as you took in his appearance, his damp, jet black hair was falling into his eyes in soft curls, his tanned skin was wet, and the neon yellow hoodie he wore under his signature leather jacket had darkened by at least two shades from the rain, as had the black skinny jeans which were tightly clinging to his legs.

“Will you be okay to get home?” Hyuck asked you as he turned off the coffee machine and motioned towards the door with a light tilt of his head. You nodded and replied with a “yeah” as you swiftly picked up your takeaway coffee cup and headed out the door which mark hadn’t managed to hold open for you. Hyuck followed you out after turning the lights off and grabbing his own helmet, locking the doors behind you. You nodded towards Donghyuck, turning away from the boys you clutched your arms around yourself in an attempt to keep warm as you walked in the direction of your shared apartment.

“See you, y/n.”

You turned your head and waved in return at Donghyuck who was smiling at you as he put his jet-black helmet on whilst he leaned on the back of Marks motorcycle. Mark offered you a smirk as he took a long drag from his cigarette before dropping it to the floor and putting out the glowing stick with a swift movement of his foot, his tattered black converse catching your eye. You continued forward in the torrential rain and not a minute later you could hear the revving of the engine as Mark and Donghyuck pulled away and sped past you, Mark deliberately not avoiding the growing pool of floodwater on the street next to you, splashing dirty water at you in the process. “Fucking fantastic,” you groaned in exasperation.

It was the following Tuesday when you next saw Donghyuck with his best friend in tow. You were packing up your things after a long day in the library, sneezing and sniffling every so often; you had managed to catch a rather bad cold after walking home in the pouring rain last Thursday. You had just turned around after placing your last book in your beaten-up bag when you heard Donghyucks contagious laughter coming from your left, he and Mark were walking towards you and away from a small group of three boys you often saw Hyuck hanging around with between classes, you weren’t sure of their names. Mark was once again holding on tightly to his helmet as he mumbled something to the velvety boy beside him and ran his other hand through his disheveled hair.

You fished your phone out of your pocket and turned it off airplane mode before stuffing it back into your pocket and looking up, just in time to hear your name being spoken from a few feet away.

“Hey! y/n!”, Donghyuck exclaimed, looking surprised to see you, “you got home okay then? On Thursday?” he queried, stopping before you, causing Mark to roll his eyes at his friends genuine concern.

“Yeah thanks, Hyuck. What are you guys doing here?” you chuckled in reply, it wasn’t unusual for you to greet him in the library as you both spent a fair bit of time there, Marks appearance, however, was a little less common.

He was obviously there to pick Donghyuck up, probably just to take him home or to a party or something; what was unusual was that he didn’t usually come inside. If you ever saw him at the university, he would be leaning against the outside wall, by the doors, often holding a cigarette in one hand and his phone in the other. He was a couple of years older than you, only a year older than Donghyuck, and although you knew that he had graduated from the same institution that you attended, you didn’t know what his major was, not that you particularly cared. Your train of thought was interrupted by Donghyucks reply,

“Oh, Mark just needed to talk to Jaemin about something,” he gestured towards his friend, who was clearly already bored with your conversation.

Just as you were about to speak, your phone started ringing. You took a deep breath once you saw the caller ID, before picking it up and holding it to your ear.

“Dad?” you breathed out, his timing could not have been worse. You had a complicated relationship with your parents; your father was controlling to say the least, and it frustrated you to no end.

“So, you finally decided to pick up the phone then?”, he greeted you harshly. “I’m sorry, I’m in the library, my phone was off,” you offered him an apology, hoping it would suffice. You looked down at your shoes and wrapped your free hand around your waist, turning away from the two boys who were waiting patiently before you, hoping to gain some privacy for what would most likely not be an enjoyable conversation with your father.

“You’re always sorry, it’s not good enough y/n,” he complained, “anyway, I called because I need to ask a favour from you.” He only ever called you when he needed something, and he certainly wasn’t one for pleasantries, he always found a way to try and make you feel bad about yourself – although you’d grown a sort of immunity to it now that you knew what he was trying to do. You remained silent, signaling for him to go on, “your mother and I are hosting a dinner party tonight” you place your hand on the back of the chair in front of you, “and we expect you to attend, can you be at the hotel for 7pm?”

Your grip on the chair tightened to the point that your knuckles were beginning to turn white, you looked at your watch and groaned softly so that he wouldn’t hear, it was already 6:47pm. “Dad I don’t think-“ you started, knowing perfectly well that you wouldn’t be there on time – it was nearly a 40 minute walk to your parents’ hotel from the library.

“Great! See you then, don’t be late!” he cut you off, not allowing you the time to tell him that you wouldn’t make it for 7 before he ended the call. “Jesus Christ,” you exclaimed as you let your iron grip on the chair go, moving the same hand to push your hair out of your face.

“Is everything okay?” you turned around to see Donghyuck and Mark both staring at you in confusion.

Your parents frustrated you a lot. They could never be bothered to make time for you but the second they had the opportunity to use you to their advantage, they would milk it. Your father loved to patronize you and put you down while your mother loved to brag about all the wonderful things you were supposedly doing, she loved to make you sound like their perfect child, when really, they were nothing but disappointed in you. They were disappointed in your art major and disappointed that you chose not to intern at your fathers’ company – you wanted as little to do with his illegal activities as possible - so disappointed that they actually felt the need to lie about practically everything you did.

“Oh, yeah I just-,” you paused, trying to clear your head and come up with a way of fixing the mess you were about to get into, “sorry but I have to go, I have to be somewhere in like 10 minutes and it’s a 40 minute walk so-,” you rushed out, panicking as you grabbed your bag, flung it over your shoulder and proceeded to walk quickly down the hall towards the staircase. You didn’t make it very far however, as Donghyuck managed to grab your wrist and turn you around.

“Hey, wait!” he exhaled deeply, “do you need a lift? Mark can give you a lift, right?” he suggested, turning to his friend in question.

Mark looked as horrified as you felt at the thought of being perched on the back of his bike, “yeah, not happening,” he exclaimed, “she doesn’t even have a helmet or anything-” Donghyuck cut him off by thrusting his own helmet into your arms unceremoniously “now she does!” he retorted cheekily, throwing a smug smile in Marks direction.

“No, Hyuck really-” you started, the idea of being in such close proximity to the stranger not sitting right in your stomach.

“Donghyuck, what the fuck?” Mark exclaimed in obvious annoyance at the lively boy who had seemingly already made the decision for you both as he sauntered off down the hall, leaving you alone with his best friend.

Mark didn’t speak to you as you made your way down the stairs side by side. You felt your heartbeat speed up as you walked through the automatic doors and saw the back of his motorcycle come into view. The model was sleek and rather elegant, the matte black of the main body suited Marks nefarious persona perfectly and the egg-yolk yellow accents made it all the more beautifully daunting.

“Ever ridden a bike before?” Mark exhaled at you, already knowing the answer to his foolish question.

You shook your head, “I haven’t. But you already knew that”.

Mark nodded his head in response before putting his helmet on and climbing onto the bike in front of you. You mirrored his actions and secured Donghyucks helmet into place with shaky hands; the jet-black helmet was a little big for you, but you managed to fight against the strap until it was tight enough that you felt somewhat protected. You shuffled into the small space behind Mark and had barely just lifted your feet off the ground when he revved the engine and kicked off, sending you surging forward into his firm back in order to not fall off.

Mark snickered at your immediate reaction, “you might want to hold on, sweetheart,” he told you in amusement as he turned his head towards you slightly. “I’m gonna need directions,” he announced as he turned back to the road and pulled out of the university car park, the sudden acceleration encouraging you to grab onto his shoulders firmly in an attempt to balance yourself.

“Yeah, okay. Continue down here for a bit and then take a left just before the gym.” You instructed as you assessed the road before you.

“Alright,” he responded casually, veering off to the right to overtake a car, causing you to stiffen even more.

Sitting on the back of Marks bike was rather unnerving, but it was also thrilling and rather freeing. You could feel the wind in your hair and you were able to let yourself go a little. You closed your eyes for a moment and embraced the carelessness you felt bubbling up in your stomach; if your parents ever found out that you’d been on the back of a boys motorbike they would be livid, but in that moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You leant forward and informed Mark about the next turn he needed to make, to which he responded with an okay and as if sensing your sudden carefree nature, he applied a sudden pump of pressure on the gas and sped up even more. He was trying to scare you, to irritate you, and it was working. The wind in your hair suddenly felt too cold, too loud, and the traffic surrounding you too fast.

“Mark,” you warned him as you moved your hands from his shoulders to wrap them tightly around his waist. “Hey, slow down!” you shouted in his ear once you realised that he wasn’t letting up.

“Relax, baby. You’re alright,” he chuckled over his shoulder, sounding completely unbothered.

You tightened your grip around him and closed your eyes as you tried to calm down, no longer finding the experience enjoyable. You could feel the soft flesh of his toned stomach through his shirt; the vibrations of Marks laughter as he felt your grip tighten and your forehead press softly into his shoulder. He was warm and deadly and you could feel your hot blood rushing through your veins. You breathed him in slowly; his aroma was cigarette smoke and peppermint; his shirt stained with the faint scent of his cologne and cinnamon. You hated to admit it, but Mark Lee smelled heavenly despite being the embodiment of Hades himself, and it was intoxicating.

“Sweetheart, you need to look so you can direct me,” he said blatantly, you opened your eyes briefly before closing them again with a shake of your head.

“Take the next right and then pull up on the left just before the hotel,” you breathed out.

Mark was soon slowing to a halt and you let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding in. “Thank fuck that’s over” you exclaimed before releasing your grip around the devilish boy in front of you, feeling slightly embarrassed that you’d been holding him so tightly. You swiftly removed your helmet and thrust it into Marks arms with a mumbled thank you before turning on your heel and heading towards the front door of the building. You faintly heard Mark calling your name, but you weren’t really listening as when you reached the door you felt your stomach drop, your dad was waiting for you and he was furious.

Ten minutes later, you were seated next to your mother and opposite to your father, you were trying to settle the growing pit of nerves in your stomach as you knew you would be confronted by your dad soon enough. Around an hour into the meal, one of your parents’ guests decided to ask your mum about how you were getting on at uni, they were trying to make polite conversation, although your mothers response irked you rather.

“She’s doing great! She’s loving her classes, aren’t you honey?” she directed at you with a knowing look in her eye. You simply nodded and replied a polite “yes, it’s great.”

The same guest then went on to ask what it was you were studying, to which your parents simultaneously responded with ‘law’, as if rehearsed, which it most likely was. You knew your parents had never been happy with your decision to study fine art, and you couldn’t say you were surprised to hear that they were lying about your major, but it pissed you off, nevertheless. You clenched a fist underneath the table as they continued to brag about how well you were supposedly doing at law school. The evening continued like that for the next hour; your parents telling their ‘business partners’ about all the achievements you had made and how proud of you they were. Your family was built on a mound of lies.

You knew that they were careful about what they told you about their business, but you were alert enough to be aware of the fact that the deals they made were not what might be expected of a typical hotel chain. They lied in front of you to try and cover the illegal activity that was going on, and while you weren’t entirely sure what that involved, you had an idea.

Your parents walked with you to the entrance of the hotel when the dreadful dinner party was over, and you braced yourself for what you knew was coming.

“You’ll never guess how our y/n arrived here earlier, love.” Your dad gestured to you while speaking to your mum.

You looked down at your feet and fiddled with the hem of your jumper in anticipation. Your dad was business suits and stainless steel while your mother was sterile surfaces and fake smiles and you hated it, you hated them and the stupid lifestyle they had dragged you into. Nothing about it was real, nothing about it was fair.

“She arrived on the back of a boy’s motorcycle,” he informed her with disgust evident in the tone of his voice, his facial expression unsettlingly straight. Your mother gasped in horror and you had to hold back from rolling your eyes at her dramatic reaction. “y/n what the hell were you thinking?” she asked you with a raised voice, anger evident.

“I needed a ride, it’s a forty-minute walk otherwise!” you responded honestly. You weren’t going to let them manipulate you into apologizing to them.

“Imagine what the guests would have thought if they’d seen you arrive in such a bedraggled way!” she screeched at you, to which you just responded with a shrug; not having the energy to argue with her.

“You will reply when your mother addresses you, y/n.” Your father seethed through his teeth at you, anger taking over his stout features. You turned away from them in an attempt at getting away from their suffocating presence, talking back to them was not going to get you anywhere. But before you could walk through the now half open door, he grabbed onto your wrist harshly, “if you pull another stunt like this, there will be consequences, y/n, and stay away from that boy, he’s bad news.” He spat the coarse words into your left ear no louder than a whisper.

You could feel your eyes beginning to water a little, “don’t touch me.” You breathed bitterly before yanking your wrist out of his forceful grip and slamming the glass door behind you.

You finally let yourself go once you were outside, the tears flowing freely and silently down your cheeks. You were tired, exhausted even, of trying to mask how much their actions hurt you. Nobody at your university had a clue, not your roommate, Lisa, none of your art class acquaintances, not even Donghyuck, who you often found yourself confiding in when things got a bit too much and you found yourself on the verge of a breakdown.

You were looking forward to getting home, your apartment was cozy and warm and just what you needed after dealing with your exasperating family. Your parents had bought you a 2 bed flat on the top floor of a crumbling apartment building, which you had the pleasure of choosing. After being brought up in a mansion-like house that didn’t even look lived in, you opted for something small and homely so that you weren’t rattling around in it. Two weeks after moving in, it still felt a little empty to you and so you advertised for a roommate – that was when Lisa came into your life. The two of you had your differences but you loved each other, you supposed she was probably your best friend, not that you were one to give people titles. Lisa was away on a two-week trip to Florence with a few of the people from her major, meaning you had the place to yourself; you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

“Dinner party went well then?”

You turned around and were met with the sight of Mark leaning against the wall next to the door of the hotel, he was somewhat hidden from view, his dark clothes melting in to the ebony of the sky. He held a cigarette between his lips and a lighter in his left hand, he took a long, slow drag before plucking it from his lips with his free hand and blowing the smoke in your direction.

You stifled a cough and rolled your eyes at his actions before continuing in the direction of your apartment, “why are you still here, Mark?” you asked him as you lifted a hand to wipe the tears away from your rosy cheeks, curious as to why he’d hung around for you.

“I thought you’d want a ride home,” he shrugged as he caught up with you, lifting the cigarette again and this time leaving it hanging from his pink lips, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

“The last thing I need is for my parents to see me on the back of your fucking bike, again.”

Mark chuckled dryly in response, “did your dad give you a hard time?” he cooed, clearly finding your upset state funny. When you didn’t show any signs of amusement, his cheeky smile turned into something more sincere.

“I heard what they said to you, you know,” he gave you a pitiful look, “I’m sorry that they treat you like that.”

You raised your eyebrows and bit back a laugh, “cut the crap, Mark.” He looked a little taken-aback by your curt response, giving you a questioning look as he slowed to a stop beside you. “Don’t act like you suddenly care,” you sighed at his obliviousness, turning to face him.

Mark Lee was not known for his kindness, caring nature. He was known for being cold and troublesome, he was like a snake; constantly shedding his skin and becoming a different version of himself. One minute he was dangerous and sinful and all things devilish and red, yet the next, he was soft like the feathery wings of an angel with kind eyes; and it was impossible to tell which version of himself he would present to you each time you met.

You looked at him, really looked at him and took in his appearance. His soft dark hair was falling in his eyes with a slight parting in the middle, his sun-kissed skin rich and deep under the soft, golden light of the street lights you were bathing in. Your gaze fell to his cherry-stained lips and to the glowing stick he held between them, soft clouds of smoke occasionally leaving his lips as he exhaled. The heartbreaking truth was that Mark was attractive, you found him attractive and you didn’t know how to stop the way your breath hitched when you looked into his dark eyes. He was looking at you, observing you in the same way you had been observing him, and it was unnerving. His eyes flitted between your own and your lips briefly before he pulled his gaze away from you and towards the now-familiar motorbike which was sat just a few feet away from where you were stood.

“Come on, let me take you home.”

You didn’t talk to Mark as he drove you home aside from directing him to your apartment, it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, though. You were exhausted, and you found yourself feeling a little numb as you clutched Marks waist tightly and pressed a cheek into his back as you closed your eyes. You couldn’t find the energy to think about your father seeing you on the back of Marks bike. If he saw you, then so be it. You were utterly sick to your stomach of the way they pried and warped you into what they thought was the perfect child, the child that their fellow businessmen and women would want to hear about. They objectified you and they underestimated you and it royally pissed you off.

You found yourself almost enjoying the feeling of betraying them, perhaps you’d take it up as a hobby. Perhaps you’d befriend Mark just to get under their skin, you’d undoubtedly relish in that feeling if you were a little more like the boy who you currently had wrapped in your tight embrace. But you weren’t like that, you were good and caring and you had so much love to give yet nobody to give it to. You couldn’t intentionally play someone like that, it wasn’t within your capability, nor was it your true desire. You didn’t want to use Mark, no matter how perfect it would be or how much it would irritate your parents. So, you pushed your delirious thoughts aside and tightened your hold on Mark as if to thank him for not asking too many questions or rubbing in your ill-fated situation. In response you felt a tight squeeze on your left thigh as he reached back to comfort you subtly, and that was all that was needed for you to begin to feel a little better.

Mark pulled up outside your apartment building after what felt like forever. You heaved your heavy body off the padded seat behind him, your worn shoes scuffing against the edge of the pavement as you did so, causing you to stumble forward briefly before a strong hand gripped at your waist and pulled you back. You turned around at the sudden feeling of Marks arm wrapping around you, only to notice that you were standing a lot closer to the raven-haired boy than you’d anticipated. He had leaned off his bike a little in order to reach you and you now found yourself brushing up against his jean clad thigh.

“Easy there, princess,” you could feel his hot breath on your cotton-candy stained cheeks and you struggled to appropriately place your gaze. You’d never been this close to him, face to face anyway, and you found it unsurprisingly intimidating. You observed and noticed his perfectly placed eyebrow piercing, the two silver balls gleaming even in the dark of the night. Marks eyes were deep and dark, black almost, a heavenly contrast to his honey-stained skin. They were half lidded and verging on sultry as he blinked and brought his eyes to meet with yours, his tongue briefly darting out to wet his lips before he gently brought the hand which wasn’t wrapped around your waist up to eye level. He hesitated briefly before he lifted his hand and started to unfasten the strap on the helmet you had borrowed from Donghyuck, “here, let me get that-”.

Your breath caught in your throat as his hand brushed against your soft skin, the rough texture of his calloused hands contradicting your own smooth, milky complexion. You looked into his eyes as they were concentrated on removing the heavy helmet; he looked so innocent like this, so pure and refined. It was almost like the fire inside him had been dampened momentarily and the ice around his heart was beginning to melt, of course that wouldn’t last. You knew that the next time you saw him, it would be like this hadn’t happened. He would go back to smirking at you or blanking you entirely. It would have been a moment of utter serenity if it weren’t for your caged heart beating at ninety to the dozen inside your chest. You were nervous. Mark made you nervous.

Once he’d lifted the helmet off, he realised he was still holding you and quickly moved his hand from your waist to rub the back of his neck, you became suddenly all too aware of your close proximity and took a small step back, clearing your throat and crossing your arms in the process. He roughly planted said helmet into your arms with an “I’ll see you around” before he kicked off and left you standing by the side of the road, looking a little flustered.

Needless to say, the second your head hit your pillow that night, you were out like a light.

You entered the coffee shop two days later, Thursday, at your normal time of 7:15pm. Only this time you had more of a purpose; you, of course, were looking forward to your latte, but you had also brought Donghyucks helmet since Mark had left it with you.

“Donghyuck!” you greeted the familiar face as you made your way towards his position behind the counter. “Here” you lifted the heavy black helmet onto the counter for him to take. He thanked you as he took it from you and went to put it in the back room.

You took the chance to look around the room, noticing a few familiar faces, mostly students huddled over their laptops or buried in a pile of dog-eared books. You spotted your usual round table and smiled at the site of the empty chair sat by it. You would soon be just like most of the other customers in the coffee shop, head down and engulfed in a heap of Gustav Klimt books, your chosen artist for this semester.

“Hey, have you seen Mark around?” you were brought out of your thoughts by the return of the radiant boy in front of you, who was now busying himself with making your coffee.

“Not since Tuesday, why?”

“I haven’t seen him since then either, he normally drops me off for my shift today, but he didn’t show,” he replied sounding a little concerned for his troublesome friend. “I’m sure it’s nothing,” you hummed in response.

You thanked Donghyuck with a warm smile as you paid him for your coffee before taking it over to your table and getting your notebook and a couple of books out of your scruffy bag. The next hour went by relatively quickly, you alternated between writing notes and actually annotating the books in front of you; you had a bad habit of defacing books. Whether it was folding pages or actually drawing on the pristine pages, you enjoyed making them look used and a little haggard.

You had been so engrossed in your work that you hadn’t noticed Mark’s brief appearance in the cozy coffee shop, he was only present for about 30 seconds before Donghyuck excused himself and stepped outside to talk to his friend. You had your head down when you left through the heavy doors, you weren’t listening as they hushed their conversation at the sight of you, and you didn’t notice when Mark, who was sporting a bruised cheek and a bloody lip, cast his gaze over to you from behind his friends’ shoulder.

You were living in your head as you walked home that evening, thinking up your future, where you wanted to live, and what you wanted to be doing. You’d just decided that you liked the idea of settling in Paris or somewhere similar when you felt the first sign of rain hit your cheek. You cursed to yourself as you pulled your hood up over your head in an attempt to shelter yourself from the inevitable downpour. You were never prepared when it rained, you usually just wore a hoodie and jeans to uni and you had never got into the habit of carrying a jacket or an umbrella around, you should probably change that, though; it rained a lot in your city.

Not even two minutes after the rain started, you heard the screeching of tires on the wet road as a familiar looking bike skidded to a stop alongside where you were walking.

“y/n get on!” Mark yelled over the deafening downpour surrounding you, taking his helmet off as you jogged over to him.

You weren’t sure why you decided to listen to him, especially after he tried to scare you the last time. Perhaps it was because you knew you’d be home in a fraction of the time if he took you, walking would be at least another twenty minutes. Or maybe part of you actually liked the idea; somewhere deep down in the burning embers of your soul, you quite enjoyed the cryptic boys’ presence. He was everything you had stayed away from up until now, and although you would never admit it aloud, you found yourself reveling in the risk of it all.

You tried to refuse his helmet, saying that he needed it more, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Just put the damn thing on,” he argued, only moving off once you were sat behind him with his helmet sat snugly on your head.

Your arms curled around him in the same way you had recently become accustomed to. He was soaked through to the bone and cold, so cold, it seemed Mark wasn’t one for dressing according to the weather either. While you were at least wearing a hoodie, he was only wearing a t-shirt, a white one at that. His muscular back suddenly became painstakingly obvious through his soaked shirt and you tried to focus on the road ahead as you rested your chin on his left shoulder.

Not even 10 minutes later, you had arrived at your apartment building.

You jumped off the bike as soon as it had stopped moving, keen to get inside and rid yourself of your drenched clothes as soon as possible; a hot shower sounded absolutely wonderful right now. You expressed your thanks and looked up at Mark to return his helmet to him once you’d wrestled to get your wet hair untangled from the strap, only to see that he had his head hung low and turned away from you.

“Hey, Mark?” he hummed in response, seeming somewhat distracted. “You good?”

“Huh? Yeah, I should really go-”

“Why won’t you look at me?” you hesitantly reach across and hear a sharp intake of breath from him when you grip at his jaw, turning his head to face you for the first time that night. Your breathing faltered at the sight of his black and blue cheekbone and your eyes scanned the rest of his face to discover that his lip was also rather swollen and coated with dry blood.

“Mark…” you whispered as you ghosted your hand over the tender skin, blinking down at him as his hand gripped at your wrist.

“It’s fine, y/n,” he gritted his teeth, still not looking up at you.

“Who did this to you?” you thumbed at his puffy lip gently, the question more rhetorical than anything else.

You had never seen the boy before you look so worn out. In fact, you weren’t sure if you had ever witnessed someone being hurt like this before. You blinked twice and moved your hand away from him in order to brush your own disheveled hair out of your eyelashes as you realised that the rain was only becoming heavier.

“Come inside,” you said unexpectedly, surprising both yourself and the bloodied boy sat before you. You tugged at his sleeve, “just let me help you, as a thank you of sorts”.

“I really shouldn’t, I-,” you didn’t let him finish, you instead found yourself dragging him away from his beloved black and yellow bike and into shelter.

He followed you up the stairs until you were on the top floor, you had your key in one hand and his bike helmet in the other. He didn’t speak as you walked up the five flights of stairs, the only sounds were your sopping wet shoes squelching each time you took a step and the shaky breathing coming from the pair of you.

You stepped into your small apartment with Mark in tow, switching on the lights as soon as you were in the door. You placed your stuff down alongside Marks helmet on the long wooden coffee table in your little living room before disappearing into Lisa’s room to find something for Mark to change out of his wet clothes into. When you walked back into the living room, he was still standing there, hands clasped together and rocking back and forth on his toes lightly.

“Here, I think this stuff should fit you.”

Lisa sometimes had boys over, usually they were just one-off flings but sometimes they’d come often enough that she had managed to accumulate a growing pile of their clothes. You’d found a pair of loose black shorts and a large light-grey hoodie that looked around Marks size.

You directed him to the bathroom so he could change, before turning to your own room and stripping off your drenched clothes, changing into a pair of sweats and a loose fitting shirt as quickly as you could. You grabbed some wet cotton wool and a bag of frozen peas to help take down the swelling, you didn’t have a first aid kit in your apartment, so this would have to suffice. You found Mark sitting on your sofa when you returned, his head leaning on one of his hands whilst he texted someone on his phone with the other. He heard your fluffy sock-clad feed padding against the hard wood floor as you neared him, looking up and instantly turning his phone off and placing it next to him once he realised you had reappeared.

You knelt down in front of him, placing the frozen bag on the floor beside you and turning your attention to the injured boy.

“Stay still,” you could feel Marks eyes following your every move. You dabbed at his wounded lip, trying to help take the edge off the sting he must be feeling. You steadied yourself by placing your free hand on his shoulder, causing him to turn his attention to you rather than whatever he found so interesting behind you.

“Where’d you get the clothes from?” he gestured to the hoodie he was now wearing.

“Oh, they’re from Lisa’s- my roommate’s ex, I think,” he nodded at your reply.

“Don’t move,” you whispered as you held his head still and wiped away the remainder of the blood. “It’s not like they’d be from my ex, given that I don’t have one. Or a current boyfriend, for that matter.” Your weak attempt at a joke fell flat as you suddenly realised the implications of what you had just said. Your eyes grew wide, “that was stupid, I don’t know why I said that. I just-”

Your ramblings were cut short when Mark gripped your arm and took the bloody cotton wool from your hand, dropping it to the floor while keeping his half-lidded gaze on you. He moved your hand to hover just above his heart, resting it there. You kept your eyes on his hand as it covered yours, not daring to look up at him for fear that you may crumble. You felt like putty in his hands and all he was doing was touching your hand. Your face flushed as your hands began to tremble subtly.

“Do you feel that?” you did. You could feel his heart beating rapidly, just as yours was. “Baby?”

You dragged your eyes up to meet his and nodded delicately as you let yourself tug at his hoodie a bit, trying to cease the nerves rising up from the pit of your stomach to the very tips of your fingers. Mark lowered his head until his forehead was brushing against yours from his elevated position on the sofa. You could smell the faint scent of cigarette smoke coming from his lips, which were now barely three inches from yours.

“What are you-,” he rubbed his nose against yours and murmured a barely-there “shh,” as his eyes fluttered shut.

Mark pressed a kiss to the corner of your lips and moved his soft grip from your hand to angle your face up towards him, bringing his other hand up to cup your jaw before moving to plant a slow peck on your plump lips. “y/n?” you hummed when he pulled back a couple of inches, keeping your eyes closed. You didn’t want him to stop and you hated yourself for it. You tugged at his hoodie again, hoping he would understand your signal for him to continue. You didn’t have confidence in words, opting to not say anything and instead moving your left hand up further to reach the nape of his neck, pulling him into you.

The feeling of having another’s lips pressed against yours was unfamiliar and yet, strangely addictive. Your breathing was getting heavier in sync with his as he left long, drawn out kisses on your lips, alternating between your bottom lip and your top. You found the angle was getting a little awkward and so, with the help of Mark, you sat up on your knees, only staying like that for a moment before you found yourself situated on his lap with your legs on either side of him.

He barely paused for breath before capturing your lips again, this time prodding at your entrance with his slick tongue. The sensation was effortless with him, your lips slotting together over and over again with such ease and precision. His tongue massaged against yours as he relocated his calloused hands to rest around your waist, squeezing the soft flesh as your shirt rode up slightly.

You let out a soft whimper as his cold hands touched your hot skin and you threaded your fingers through the damp locks of hair at the back of his head, your other hand clenching and unclenching, taking fistfuls of his hoodie as you tried to make the feelings in your chest evaporate. The air was hot and sticky, and you gasped into each-others open mouths, you couldn’t get enough of him.

Kissing Mark Lee made you feel more alive than you had ever thought possible, it was both heavenly and sinful, and he took all your breath away as if it was nothing. He tasted sweet and smoky and he was enthralling for he was the devils incarnate, yet the most celestial being you had ever laid eyes on. You hated him, you wanted to hate him. But he was radiant and god-like and you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away, for Mark Lee was magnetic and you will forever be drawn to his sacrilegious self.

You were panting and breathless as you took his lower lip between your teeth and looked into his amorous eyes, but he winced, and you found yourself pulling away from his swollen lips as a coppery taste lathered your tongue. You were flush against him; your immediate proximity making you blush, given the circumstances. “Sorry, I forgot- about your lip I mean,” you stammered out, feeling rather flustered.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about it,” Mark leant forward to press his lips to yours again messily as he dragged his hands along your thighs, he couldn’t seem to sit still.

“Mark,” you tried to pull away again, you knew he was using this situation as a distraction. He hummed as he ran one hand up your side until he was cupping your jaw, trailing his wet lips down the side of your neck. “Mark, stop.” You said firmly just as he nipped softly at the flesh under your ear, pushing him tenderly by his shoulders until he was far enough that you could look at him properly.

“Did I do something?”, his panicked eyes searched your own for an answer.

You sighed, “no,” as you slid off his lap and made yourself comfortable on the sofa next to him. “I just- why?”

“Why what, baby?”

“What did you do to deserve this?” you asked him tenderly as you crossed your legs and turned to face him, tracing your fingers from his harsh eyebrow piercing to the soft skin of his cheekbone. Under the soft light of the lamps in your living room his bruises were faint and indistinct, but they were still there. The black and blue painted on his skin somehow looked pretty, it was a deep contrast to his normal warm tone, but it didn’t exactly look bad – just sore.

“Can we not talk about this, please?” he groaned as he dropped his head into his hands.

“Just tell me what happened!” You argued, your voice raised a little in exasperation. You didn’t understand why he was so reluctant to talk to you about it. Everyone knew about Marks reputation, he was known for sporting the odd black eye and not holding his tongue when he should. But as you were sat next to him, you realised that you didn’t actually know why.

“I can’t-“

“You can, please-”

“No, you’re staying out of this y/n,” Marks voice was deep and hoarse as he spoke loudly to you, letting you know that his decision was final.

“Why won’t you talk to me? Doesn’t this mean anything to you?” you breathed out, as you covered your face with your hands in frustration, letting your elbows rest on your knees, you looked up at the boy before you. “Is this an act of pity or something? Did you only come in because you felt sorry for me?”

“What? No I-,” his phone ringing cut him off before he could speak further. Mark cursed once he saw who was calling him, “I’m sorry, I have to go, I’ll see you around.” He grabbed his stuff from the table before rushing out the door to answer the phone, leaving you alone and bathing in the now strangely silent room to process everything that had just happened.

“So, tell me about Florence!”

Lisa was finally home from her time in Italy, and she’d somehow managed to persuade you that catching up over a drink or two was a good idea. You’d never been the type to drink to get drunk, not that you hadn’t been drunk; it just didn’t happen very often. You were more of a coffee lover, that’s where you and Lisa were different. While you would spend your free time slaving over a book with a steaming mug of coffee, she would spend hers sharing secrets with strangers over a bottle of beer. You supposed your dynamic wasn’t so different to Donghyuck and Mark, like earth versus fire, air versus water; you were somewhat dependent on eachother, the perfect contradiction.

“It was incredible, the architecture was phenomenal, as was the art and gosh you would’ve loved the culture!” She gushed excitedly after taking a long gulp of her fruity cocktail.

If you didn’t know her personally, you might have been jealous of Lisa. Upfront, she seemed unmistakably perfect, her hair was thick and shiny, her skin was clear, and she flourished in social settings. But you did know her, well enough to know that her happy exterior wasn’t always genuine and that she too found life to be rather stressful at times, she was just better at relieving that stress than you were; hence her tendency to party and pick up boys every now and then.

The two of you talked back and forth about her time in Florence and your time without her, although you failed to mention anything involving Mark, the last thing you needed was Lisa breathing down your neck about something that you weren’t entirely sure about yourself. She raved about the museums and galleries she’d visited and made sure to recite each and every individual piece of art that she’d enjoyed; yes, you were jealous. You were jealous of her freedom and you were jealous of her carefree nature, you wished you could be like that. Perhaps if it weren’t for your family, you would be a little more like Lisa. You thought back to a few days prior when you were sitting behind Mark, clinging to him tightly as the two of you rode through the rain; that was the most unburdened you had felt in a long time.

You were snapped out of your train of thought by Lisa standing up from her seat next to you at the bar, “I’ll be back in a minute,” she signaled to the bathroom before traipsing away from you, leaving you with your thoughts and a half empty glass of vodka and lemonade.

As you waited you found yourself casting your gaze around the busy room; the bar seemed to be teeming with students like you, apart from the odd older guy. You spent a lot of your time observing people and their actions, it was almost like a hobby, being a bystander. There were booths filled with youngsters, chanting and laughing and having the time of their lives, there were bar stools filled with friends downing shots and getting plastered, and then there was you. You, who would rather be at home, curled up and watching a movie with a bowl of shitty popcorn. So, when you were approached by a sleazy looking man who seemed to be rather under the influence, you were somewhat bewildered.

“Two shots for this lovely lady and I!” He hollered to the barman over the blaring music as he gestured roughly towards you. He reeked of alcohol and sweat, a rather nasty combination which could absolutely not be considered attractive.

“Oh, no I was just leaving-”

“C’mon, just one drink!” he interrupted you, sending a ratty smile in your direction.

“No really, I’d rather not” you raised yourself off the tall stool you had been perched on, reaching for your bag as you desperately tried to remove yourself from the situation. This was why you didn’t like going out, you were terrified of exactly what appeared to be happening right now. You felt vulnerable as soon as he appeared next to you, your instincts quickly telling you that the man before you was bad news.

He grabbed your wrist firmly, making you wince at the abrupt action. “Don’t touch me,” you seethed as you tried to pry away his painful grip on your wrist.

“You’re a fair handful,” he slurred as he moved closer to you, moving his other hand to clutch around your waist under your shirt, making you feel uneasy. You could feel tears of panic begin to sting at the corner of your eyes as you looked around frantically in exasperation at the fact that nobody seemed to be aware of what was going on. He pressed himself against you and you were struggling to get away from him as you felt him begin to trail his hand to your backside.

“Get your fucking hands off her,” a familiar voice threatened from beside you, although you couldn’t quite figure out who it belonged to.

He didn’t comply. You felt sick.

He was suddenly ripped away from you as a large hand grasped at the neck of his shirt and a swift punch was thrown, and then another two. “I warned you,” your eyes widened at the scene which was playing out before you.

“Mark, stop!” you shouted as soon as you recognised the dark mop of hair that you were now well-acquainted with. Of course, he didn’t listen to you.

The drunk man tried to retaliate but was soon rendered defenseless as he took one final hit to the face and staggered backwards with blood dripping down his chin, “sorry man, didn’t realise she was yours,” he laughed as he spat blood onto the floor and disappeared into the crowd.

You looked away from the man who was swaying away from you and, sure enough, standing before you was Mark Lee in all his grandeur. He was dressed from head to toe in black and his bruised cheek was mostly faded now, barely visible unless you were really looking for it. His knuckles looked red and sore as he splayed his hand out to check for any broken skin.

Your devilish savior ignored his distasteful comment as he diverted his attention to you, “are you alright?”

You shook your head, “I just need to get out of here”. You felt claustrophobic, like you couldn’t breathe. And, god, you were itching to shower and scrub off the feeling of that man’s grimy hands on your body.

You pulled your gaze away from Mark for a second, just long enough to see Lisa walking your way from the bathroom. “Y/n? What’s going on?” she asked as she looked between you and Mark, who was standing so close that you could feel his hot breath on your neck.

She undoubtedly knew who Mark was, everybody at your university did. He was striking in both appearance and in demeanor, although not always for the right reasons. And so, she would most likely be wondering what someone like him would be doing speaking to someone like you. The two of you were so drastically different; if he was the devil then you were the purest sinner to walk this earth. He was dripping in warning signs, he radiated bad news, yet you found yourself being drawn to him like a moth to a flame, and it would appear that he too found himself unable to shake you from his mind.

“Nothing, it’s fine.”

“Why is he here?” she nodded to the boy standing behind you, sending you a look of questioning.

You heard Mark scoff under his breath as you glanced round to him, trying to think up an excuse to leave the bar that wouldn’t lead to a lengthy conversation with Lisa later.

“Something came up, I’m sorry. I can’t stay,” you offered her with pleading eyes, praying she would understand your need to leave, even if she didn’t know the reason behind it.

“Alright, be safe,” she responded with a sigh and a quick hug, and with that, you turned on your heel and walked quickly out the door.

You could feel Marks presence behind you as you walked along the pavement with your head hung low, your feet dragging and scuffing along the stone as you sifted through the multitude of thoughts that had gathered in your head. The two of you walked in a comfortable silence for a while, you breathed in the cold city air and exhaled heavily through your mouth as you tilted your head to gaze up at the dark sky which was faintly painted with the warm glow of the city lights.

You could breathe clearly out in the fresh air, the sticky heat of the bar finally cooling on your skin; it wasn’t a particularly nice feeling but it was better than being coated in the sensation of a strangers touch.

Your phone buzzed, pulling you out of your trance-like state, you reached into your pocket and fished it out, stopping dead in your tracks as you read the message on your lit-up screen.

[dad]

One of my business associates just saw you leaving a bar with that boy, remember what I told you, y/n.

You rushed to turn around as you looked back along the long stretch of street in search of someone looking at the two of you, but you saw no one. You were nearing the canal just to the west of the city centre and the street lighting was limited, not giving you the best view of the road you’d just walked down. Mark looked at you in confusion as he lifted his hands to rest on your shoulders and looked into your fiery eyes, “is everything okay?”

You shook your head and shrugged off his hold on you, already beginning to walk again, more hurriedly this time. “You have to leave, Mark,” you told him firmly as you breathed in shakily.

“What, why?” he questioned as he crept up beside you, easily matching your determined stride.

“Please just- it’s for your own safety, I can’t be seen with you,” you told him truthfully, knowing that it sounded a little harsh. Your dad was, however, a powerful man, and you didn’t doubt for a second that he would do whatever he deemed necessary to get what he wanted; and if he wanted you to stop seeing Mark, then he would not hesitate to dispose of him in some way. All for his stupid business and riches. All your parents seemed to care about was their reputation, as long as their names, yours included, were untarnished, the company would keep raking in stacks of money and numerous money-making deals. And they would do whatever they had to, get rid of whoever they had to, in order to keep it that way. They’d been like this for as long as you could remember and there was no part of you that would ever be able to challenge your father’s threats. Because that’s what they were; threats. And he meant every word that he said.

“Y/n, what the hell are you talking about? If this is about the bar or the other night then I’m sorry I-,” he shut up when you turned to face him once more and gripped both his hands in yours, lacing them together intimately. His brows furrowed as he looked down to your interlaced fingers and then back up to your eyes.

“Please, Mark.”

“I don’t understand?”

You sighed up at the dangerous boy before you, trying to think of an appropriate way of telling him that your father probably wanted to kill him just for being near you. “My dad doesn’t – he doesn’t like you”

“Your dad? I haven’t ever met him, though?” his face twists as he processes the information, struggling to fathom how your father could possibly have an opinion on someone who he’d never even spoken to before.

“That doesn’t matter, you don’t exactly-,” you paused and chewed at your bottom lip, tilting your head to look at your feet and lowering your voice to a whisper, “- have the best reputation.”

He squeezed your intertwined hands comfortingly as he sighed, dragging your hands up to rest around his neck gently before circling his arms around your waist and pulling you close to him.

Mark wasn’t particularly proud of his not-so-perfect character, he knew that people talked about him, he knew that he didn’t do himself any favours by consistently sporting some form of bruising or blemish and getting himself into fights. But Mark was soft, too. He had a heart of gold when it mattered; he was like the purest form of oxygen in a smoky room, he never failed to show his good side when his loved ones were in need.

“I’m not all bad, you know, princess” he chuckled soothingly, his breath tickling against your face.

Your fingers played with the soft tufts of hair at the nape of his neck, “I don’t want you to get hurt-,” you started, stopping to think quickly. You weren’t sure where these feelings were coming from. You’d barely known Mark until a couple of weeks ago, the two of you having never payed eachother any great amount of attention before, but Donghyuck had introduced him into your life and now you couldn’t seem to shake him from your mind.

“-because for some reason, I care about whether you get hurt or not,” you laughed breathlessly, rolling your eyes as you looked up to the sky once more, perhaps searching for the answers to all the questions swimming around in your head at the moment.

“Can I kiss you?”

You shook your head, chuckling nervously at his question, it was so very Mark. He managed to completely ignore your concern, instead opting to act on his own thoughts. “Have you listened to anything I’ve said?” you said in exasperation, feeling somewhat frustrated.

“Yes, I have, but I don’t care, y/n. I’m not going to leave, your dad doesn’t scare me, and you make my heart beat far faster than I’d ever care to admit - I know you feel it too. So please, y/n, let me just have this,” he pulled you closer by your waist as he let himself wear his heart on his sleeve momentarily, pleadingly looking into your eyes.

“He’ll kill you, you know,” you warned faintly.

“I can take care of myself.”

“I know I just- I think you’re underestimating this. He’s powerful and he warned me to stay away from you. Hell, you barely even know me, Mark, I’m really not worth this-,” you gasped as you felt one of his large hands squeeze your waist and he used the opportunity to shut you up completely, mumbling a soft “stop talking,” before pressing his lips to yours in one swift motion.

You stayed like that for a moment, your body flushed against Marks chest as he held you tightly to him, as if he were afraid that you would disappear if he wasn’t too careful. He soon pulled back just far enough to rest his forehead against yours, his eyes still closed. You admired his dark lashes fluttering against his satin skin and the way his lips were full and wet from your kiss, he was breathtaking. You couldn’t deny your attraction to him, your heart practically begging to be released from its cage whenever he was close to you like this; he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

“This is dangerous,” you whispered, encouraging him to open his doe eyes as he parted his lips a little in thought.

“You look so good right now, I just- I can’t,” he stumbled over his words, his voice breaking under your gaze. “God, I like you so much.”

You would have giggled at how he sounded like a schoolboy if he hadn’t kissed you again, gliding his right hand up your body until he was cupping your velvety skin and pulling you closer still. He kissed you with so much feeling and emotion, you barely recognised him as the boy you had first met anymore. His cold, harsh exterior completely melting away under your gentle touch. He let himself groan as you kissed him back with just as much ardour, letting your tongue gently pry his lips apart as you tried to convey your feelings for him. You let yourself momentarily forget the posing threat from your dad, enjoying Marks successful attempt at distracting you from it.

His touch was fiery-hot, his hands leaving a burning trail in their wake as he touched you delicately, as though you were a doll who might break if you fell into the wrong hands. He pulled away once more and grasped your hand in his before leading you away from the canal and towards his home.

Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of a hushed voice nearby, propping yourself up with one hand and rubbing the sleep out of your eyes with the other. You blinked groggily several times before you managed to keep your eyes open for long enough to sit up with your legs dangling off the side of the unfamiliar mattress, the cool air of the room making your hairs stand on end. You looked down at your cold legs and noticed that you were only wearing an oversized shirt with your underwear – the shirt, you recalled, was Mark’s.

He’d brought you back home with him last night, you didn’t really feel like going home and explaining the events of the night to Lisa. Your brain was still half asleep and hazy as you tried to recall all that had happened yesterday; you could remember Mark offering to sleep on the sofa, but you also recounted that you’d asked him if he could stay with you, his presence alone helping you feel at-ease. He made sure to keep his distance, to keep to his side of the bed, even if he was itching to reach across the sea of sheets to hold you. He made you feel warm and safe and at-ease and that scared you a little – how quickly he’d earned your trust, if that’s what you could call it.

You couldn’t make out the muffled voice coming from next door, but you imagined he was probably just on the phone to someone. You stifled a yawn as you reached for your phone, which had been thrown onto the carpeted floor by the mattress in haste before you knocked out fast asleep last night. The time was only just gone 7am, you wondered who Mark could be speaking to this early, a friend possibly? A parent? It was when you thought about things like this that you realised just how little you really knew about him. You knew that he liked living more dangerously than most, that he had an unhealthy love for driving his motorcycle too fast, too late, and too often, you also knew of his friendship with Donghyuck; but after that, you struggled to find anything you could add to the list. You barely knew the boy.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” he called from the doorway, startling you out of your tired thoughts. You looked up and felt the air leave your lungs as you saw him; he looked ethereal. He was leaning with his left shoulder against the flakily-painted frame, his navy-blue hoodie was too big and his honey-coloured collarbones were only half hidden by the drooping neck of his bed-attire. His boxers were fitted to his thighs and you had to pull your gaze away to stop the inevitable blush that would otherwise creep up your neck. He’d probably already noticed your staring, anyway.

“Yeah, but it’s okay,” you said groggily as you stretched your arms back to relieve your aching shoulder-blades – you must have slept on them funny.

You made the effort to stand up but were swiftly turned back around as Mark placed his warm hand on the small of your back and guided you back to the plush mess of bedding and blankets. You lay back down on your side, with your head facing the door and your back to Marks side of the bed. The sheets smelled of him, you realised. A little musky perhaps, like cinnamon and spice. His aroma was warm and comforting as you pulled the duvet up to rest just beneath your chin to try and keep out the chill of the room, your hands clasping together just below the covers. You felt the bed dip as he sunk into the pillows beside you, his breathing was shallow and yet you could somehow still just make it out over the quiet sounds of the city outside waking up.

“Do you mind if I- can I lay with you?” he asked you, sounding unusually shy, although maybe it was just his lack of sleep.

“You lay with me last night, Mark” you chuckled.

“No, I mean-,” he cut himself off, shuffling around behind you until you felt his arm reach around your waist tenderly. His chest was radiating his body heat, just a couple of centimeters from touching yours. “Like this,” he whispered in your ear, softly pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear as he grasped your clasped hands in his blindly.

“Oh” you replied, barely there. He made your brain go mushy and you were still so tired, having not gone to sleep until late. You wiggled yourself backwards a little, just enough so that you could feel his heartbeat on your clothed back as arm tightened around you. “Let’s just stay like this forever, it’s so nice,” you murmured, letting your eyes fall shut as you basked in Marks warm embrace.

A few hours later, you find yourself back in your apartment. You’re nestled into the warmth of your sofa with your legs tucked into your chest and a pillow hugged tight to your chest. Lisa was sat next to you, in an equally relaxed position, her fluffy socks tickling at your side faintly.

“He gave you a ride? Twice? On his bike?” she repeated fragments of what you’d told her back to you. You’d told her more than that, but her eyes grew wide the second you had mentioned Marks name. You nodded in response, “yes?”

She breathed out heavily, “he’s hot too, do you know what you’re getting into?” she wiggled her eyebrows at you, making you laugh and throw the pillow you were hugging at her. She shrugged, “hey! I’m just saying, the attractive ones always cause the most trouble”.

You didn’t reply, instead you placed your head in your hands and lulled to the side, looking up at her and sighing like a lovesick puppy. “I really like him, Lisa,” you mumbled, the atmosphere turning more serious, “I just don’t wanna get hurt”.

“You have to see past that. Live a little, y/n, let yourself loose for a bit,” she told you. You knew that she was probably right, and that she was only encouraging you to do what she knew best. It was easy for Lisa to say that, she was renowned for her extroverted, care-free personality, and you did sometimes envy that. But maybe it was time to take a leaf from her book, you didn’t know what would happen with Mark, you just knew that there was a strong connection between you two that you couldn’t ignore anymore. You couldn’t keep fighting against it. No matter how much you willed yourself to hate him, you never could. He was so much softer than you thought, there was more substance to him.

He was bright and full and carefree, almost the exact opposite to you. He was a little similar to Lisa, actually, just more devious. More devilish. You could see that his harsh front was beginning to melt around you, though. You seemed to have some kind of effect on him, and he hated that. You loved it. You found yourself wanting to get to know the boy hidden beneath all those layers of toughened-up skin. “Maybe I will,” you replied, with a knowing smile on your face.

Your lips parted as you panted, out of breath as you pulled back for air, throwing a quick glance to your buzzing phone, signaling yet another call from your father; you ignored it. Marks lips trailed lazily down your neck as he kissed faint flowering bruises into your soft skin, his teeth occasionally nipping and biting at the juncture of your neck. You closed your eyes in bliss and threaded your fingers through his curly, raven hair, tugging at it to signal your enjoyment.

Your father had been texting you and leaving you voicemail messages frequently over the past week. At first you were concerned for Marks safety, but it seemed that his threats were empty as nothing had come of them yet. And so, you found yourself seated in Marks lap for the third time that week. He let out a low groan as you tugged at his hair once more and shifted slightly in his lap, “stop moving, baby,” he mumbled into the crook of your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist tightly as he squeezed you into his embrace.

A knock at the door of Marks small, one-bed apartment stilled the pair of you. He lifted his head up to look at you with a cheeky smile, “what?” you looked down at him with wide eyes.

“You’ll see,” he replied as he placed a soft kiss on your plump lips before picking you up off his lap and placing you down on the warm blanket-covered sofa, you crossed your legs and looked up to him in anticipation.

He padded over to the front door, just out of your line of sight, you heard him open the door and engage in conversation with the visitor. You glanced around the room and took in your surroundings, observing, as you always did. You’d been in Marks apartment two or three times by now, he seemed to keep it relatively clean, everything seemed to have its place. You squinted as you noticed a sliver of silver on the bookshelf in the corner of the room, it seemed to be an expensive looking watch, a rolex, perhaps. It looked to be of that sort of style. You wondered briefly how Mark would come by such an expensive watch but didn’t think much of it, perhaps it was a family heirloom?

Your gaze trailed down as you noticed a hard, black case protruding from its space under the shelf. It didn’t look like a briefcase, in fact it looked to be rather heavy-duty and you wondered what on earth Mark would have one for, you’d only ever seen things like that when people were housing weapons or something similar. You knew this because your father liked to keep cases full of handguns around your house, not that you were supposed to know, you were merely a curious child who went snooping where you shouldn’t have.

“Hey, so pepperoni or cheese?” you snapped your gaze from the case over to Mark who was just emerging from the hallway to the front door, two greasy pizza boxes in hand. A warm smile lit up your face as the delicious smell of pizza filled the room, “you ordered pizza?”

“Yeah, I figured you’d be hungry, you do like pizza, right?”

“Of course,” you hummed, shuffling over to make room for Mark to sit next to you.

You spent the next two hours sharing the food between you and talking, laughing like normal youngsters should. It felt good to finally be in each other’s company without watching your back or worrying about the future. You had the television on in the background, it was playing an old black and white film that you weren’t really paying attention to, and you felt at home.

Mark placed the empty boxes on the coffee table once you’d finished with them, pulling you into him and tangling his legs with yours as you rested your head on his chest and listened to his quickened heartbeat. “What do you do? You know, when you’re not causing trouble”

He visibly tensed at your question and looked away from you as he thought of what to reply “I work for a company, just running errands. It’s nothing special,” he shrugged, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You mind if I smoke?” you shook your head.

“That sounds a bit boring,” you yawned into his chest, feeling the vibrations of his chest as he let out a soft laugh. He leaned over you momentarily to reach for his pack of cigarettes before leaning back again and fishing his lighter from his pocket.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” he replied as he caught a cigarette between his lips and brought his lighter up to encase the stick in a flame, leaving behind a glowing tip. He took a long drag, letting his eyes flutter shut in bliss for a second before blowing the smoke out, angling his head up so as to not blow it in your direction.

“Why don’t you quit?” you coughed a little, fanning away the smoke that had snaked its way down to you.

“Smoking or work?”

“Work,” you chuckled, glancing up at him and tracing a finger along his jawline. Admiring the way his jaw flexed as he exhaled another plume of smoke.

“It pays well”

“You get paid well for running errands?” you raised an eyebrow at him, not quite believing his reasoning.

“Yes?”

Before you can say anything else, Marks phone rings from its place on the floor by the empty pizza boxes. “Shit I better get that-,” he lifted the cigarette from his lips and stubbed it out in the ashtray on the table after taking a final, lengthy drag from the glowing stick.

“It’s okay, I should probably head home anyway,” you cut him off, it was getting late and you didn’t plan on staying the night, you had a 9am lecture the next morning.

“Alright, baby. Get home safe,” he stood up, pulling you up with him and pulling you in to press a peck on your supple lips, and then another slightly more drawn out kiss before you dragged yourself away from him, not wanting to get carried away. He tasted like wispy smoke and peppermint again and you could so easily get lost in his lips, the effort to pull away proving to be gallant.

“I’ll see you later,” you blushed up at him, fiddling with the sleeves of your jumper. You turned your back and walked towards the exit, hearing him pick up his phone and answer the incessant ringing. His voice was muffled through the thin wall of his main corridor, and although you knew it was wrong, you found yourself listening.

“Hey, Sicheng. What’s up?”

“No, not yet. Hey, can we talk about this later? Now’s not a good time, man.”

You could picture Mark furrowing his brows in frustration as he ran a hand through his hair in frustration, smiling softly to yourself as you slipped on your shoes.

“Yeah, y/n just left, actually”

“Yes, Sicheng. I know”

“I’ll do it soon, I swear”

Your ears perked up at the mention of your name and you suddenly felt like you were invading his privacy by staying and listening to this conversation. You didn’t feel comfortable hearing information you probably shouldn’t have been privy to. And so, you slipped out of Marks warm apartment as quietly as you could and walked home at a brisk pace, eager to jump into the comfort of your own bed and fall asleep.

“That’s all for today, don’t forget your deadline next week!” you stood up from your seat in the lecture hall and stuffed your laptop and notebook into your scruffy bag before walking down the stairs to the exit. You’d just finished a two-hour lecture on the history of fine art, the one part of your major that you didn’t absolutely love. It’s not that you didn’t find it interesting, you just felt that it dragged on sometimes; half an hour felt like twice as long in that class.

You left the room as quickly as you could, already imagining how good your Thursday latte would taste once you made it to the coffee shop. You were too wrapped up in your own thoughts to notice the boy walking in your direction until you bumped into a firm structure, far broader and taller than your own.

You looked up and smiled as your eyes were met with the pretty sight of Mark’s curly black hair - messy as always, yet still so perfect. “Hi” you grimaced up at him through your lashes.

“Hey, princess-” he chuckled, “-mind if I join you?” He didn’t give you time to reply as he took your hand in his and pulled you out of your lecture building. “I’m guessing you’re heading to Hyuck’s café?”

“Yeah” you replied quietly as you glanced down at your intertwined hands, a rosy blush spreading its way up your neck and onto the apples of your cheeks, you tried not to smile too much. You hated the effect he had on you. He had the ability to turn you into a blushing mess at the drop of a hat, and he made it look so easy, it’s like he didn’t even have to try. You wiggled your way out of his grasp, remembering that you were in public. The last thing you wanted was for one of your dads associates to report something back to him, again.

“How was your day?” he peered across to you, ignoring the way you had separated yourself from him.

“It’s been alright, pretty standard. How did you know where to find me?” you replied in question, wiggling your eyebrows up at him, “stalker” you giggled, watching as he opened his mouth to respond, shutting it before he could say anything. He looked like a fish.

“You mind if we take the bike?” he nodded his head towards the striking motorcycle just ahead of you, it wasn’t parked very carefully. He had obviously just pulled up and jumped off in a rush.

“Oh, it’s okay I can just walk-”

“Nonsense, baby. Hop on,” he picked up his helmet, placing it on your head and fastening the strap under your chin. “Perfect” he smiled once he was done, admiring how you looked in the soft light of the early evening for the first time. His smile was sad, though you didn’t really think anything of it.

The two of you usually crossed paths when the sun had set, and the stars were visible for the night, it was nice to see Mark in the golden hour of the day for once. His skin was glowing as he bathed in the light, his black curly hair a stark contrast as his messy locks fell against his forehead and into his eyes. He looked breathtaking, although you supposed that shouldn’t really come as a surprise to you anymore; Mark always looked breathtaking, ethereal even. It was as if he was sculpted by the gods themselves, his beauty truly not of this world.

You rode through the city, the warm air blowing your hair over your shoulders as your arms automatically wrapped themselves snugly around Marks toned core.

You found yourself in a state of serenity when you were close to him like this. His warmth and his intoxicating aroma were the deadliest of all combinations. Truthfully, if Mark was an erupting volcano, you would most likely swim towards his lethal inferno. You didn’t understand why you felt this way; he had some unknown, invisible control over you and you were sure you were already addicted.

“Oh, crap,” you heard under a hushed breath from in front of you. Mark was looking from side to side in a frantic motion, his sudden state of distress immediately alarming you.

“Mark?” he muttered something that you didn’t quite catch, ignoring your questioning plea. The air around you turned static at the revving of an engine or two coming from right behind you. The hairs on the back of your neck raised into goosebumps and you called out his name once more.

“It’s fine, baby- shit-” you heard a sharp intake of breath and you lifted your head slightly so that you could rest your forehead on Marks shoulder, letting your eyes screw tightly shut.

The bike swerved violently to the right as you heard the first gun-shot ring out, it’s deafening sound leaving a painful ringing in your ears. “What the fuck was that? Was that a gun-shot? Holy crap, oh my God-” you stopped yourself and were now verging on terrified as you buried your face further into his warm body. “Mark? What’s going on?”

“Just hold on real tight, okay?” he briefly glanced back to your quivering, hunched over figure, placing a reassuring hand on the lower part of your thigh, hoping to send you some form of comfort – it didn’t really work. “We’re gonna be fine”

He seemed determined to get you both out of this mess unscathed, urging his bike to reach dangerous speeds as he steered you both through the bustling traffic of the city, weaving between cars and turning down backstreets, trying desperately to lose your unwanted companions. His entire body was tensed - you could feel it. The adrenaline that was rushing through his blood was causing his veins to pulsate and protrude and his arms were firm with concentration, his grip on the handles of his motorcycle never wavering.

Another shot rang out. The bike juddered speedily along a small one-way street as you both felt the impact of a bullet nestling itself into the framework; luckily not hindering your getaway speed. “For fucks sake” he cursed as he noted the damage to his precious motorcycle.

You were muttering a mantra under your breath as you prayed to the Gods that you didn’t believe in; you prayed to Ares and Dionysus and Hades. You chanted and begged to Marks Godlike entity, willing the gunfire to end and for you to be able to have him in piece. You just wanted to be with Mark. That was all. You wanted to enjoy his presence without constantly feeling the watchful gaze of someone lurking in the shadows. You’d been on edge about it ever since you’d received that text, maybe this was your punishment. Perhaps you’d have to endure this as your comeuppance, your retribution for disobeying your fathers’ wishes. What you didn’t realise, however, was that your father wasn’t your greatest threat.

The wind only grew colder as you sped along the quiet streets, it seemed that Mark was leading you out of the city and away from the bustling streets. The cloud of polluted air covering the city faded until you could only smell fresh, salty air and the never-ending traffic blurred into the soft sound of waves crashing against the sand of the nearby beach. Mark had brought you to the sea.

“They’re gone” he called over his shoulder as you slowed to a halt at the empty end of the beach. You didn’t dare move from your place behind him, holding him so tightly you feared you may be suffocating him, but he didn’t complain. He instead hung his head low and released his grip on the handlebars, opting to drop his head into his hands and let out the breath he’d been holding in for the past fifteen minutes. “C’mon”.

You took the hand that Mark offered you once he’d stepped onto the rotting wood of the boardwalk next to you, letting him help your shaking form stand up. You looked up at him with fearful eyes, you didn’t know what to think. Who were they? Had your dad sent them after Mark? After you? You weren’t sure if you wanted to know, you were just glad to be standing back on your own two feet and by the safety of the ocean. You felt safe with Mark, regardless.

You let him guide you down the grassy dunes and onto the soft white sand, neither of you exchanging any words for quite some time. You were in shock, perhaps. You weren’t really sure where to begin. The two of you took your time drinking in the lengthy stretch of sand before you, hands loosely linked together in an attempt to reassure one another that you were both okay.

It was Mark who spoke up first. He let out a shaky sigh after you’d been walking aimlessly along the beach for several painfully silent minutes. “I guess I should probably start talking, right?” he let out a nervous laugh and lifted his free hand to rub at the back of his neck, something you’d picked up on as a nervous habit of his.

You looked up at him, the look in your eyes enough to tell him that he should explain himself.

“The company I work for, the errands I run aren’t exactly legal” he started, not even able to look you in the eye as he spoke. “I’m so sorry you’re caught up in this, y/n,” his voice breaking as he spoke.

“What do you mean? I’m not caught up in anything. We lost them, Mark. We’re alright.” You stopped walking, tugging on his hand until he turned around and stood in front of you. The almighty, Godlike figure you’d first met suddenly looked like a trembling mess, his tough gaze breaking under your scrutiny.

“God, I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you.” Mark whispered softly as he looked into your eyes, his pupils flitting around your face, he seemed uneasy. You weren’t entirely sure you’d heard him correctly, though. Mark loved you. He loved you, and you were too stupid to see it. “Why did it have to be you?”

As you looked up at the raven-haired boy, you realised something. Or rather, you understood something. You understood what it felt like to have something that you never wanted to lose. In the few fleeting weeks you’d known Mark, you’d grown to care for him. His towering frame made you feel small and helpless but being in his presence somehow also made you feel powerful and free. When you were with him, it felt like nothing else mattered, he was everything; he was the air that you breathed, the drug that you were addicted to, the celestial being that you didn’t know you craved so badly until he’d first kissed you. You needed him, and perhaps you did love him, even after only a short time, you’d grown so attached.

He plucked his phone from his pocket and looked at the text he’d seemingly just received, swiftly putting it back in his pocket before you could see, “Not now, God. Not yet.” He muttered frantically, he was manic, the look in his eyes unlike anything he’d ever expressed to you before.

“This wasn’t the plan, this wasn’t meant to happen. I’ve fucked this all up and I cannot express how sorry I truly am-,” he cut his rambling off when you reached up to cup his face in the smooth palms of your hands, stroking your thumbs lovingly over his cheeks. He was a wreck, a trembling cage of beauty in your hands, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss his fears away.

“They gave me an assignment and I don’t know what I was thinking when I accepted it,” he searched your eyes in panic, lifting his own large palms to cover your dainty hands, pulling your hands down to rest on his broad chest. “They’ll kill me if I don’t deliver, I always complete my missions, I-” he heaved out a deep breath and gave himself a moment to think. “I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“Baby, it’s okay. We can figure this out together, alright?” you were calm as you spoke, although your heart was racing ninety to the dozen. You were scared, yes. But Mark made you feel safe, you had nothing to fear when you were with him, that much you were sure of now.

You grasped his hands tightly in yours as he held them against his own chest, the thundering beat of his heart hard to miss. “I love you.”

“Let me love you, Mark,” you trained your eyes on his lips and leaned into him, melting into his embrace completely the second your lips met his. You kissed him so delicately, letting your feelings mold into every fibre of his being with each and every peck, each time your lips met becoming more and more heavenly. He wrapped you up in his arms and you couldn’t possibly be any closer to one another no matter how hard you tried; your chests were pressed flush against each other, your hands touching every inch of skin as your tongues met in a passionate dance.

“Don’t shut me out any longer,” you gasped as you broke away for air momentarily, before reattaching your lips to his in a drawn-out kiss. “I can’t get enough of you, Mark,” you panted, digging your fingertips into his shoulders in utter, blown-out bliss.

Marks hands travelled from yours to meet around your waist, your lower back, your hips, your neck. He was touching you everywhere, like it was the last time he would touch you, kiss you, like this. His lips sucked on yours and his kisses were feverish and open mouthed, his thigh propped between your legs as he tried to keep you both steady. He finally settled one of his hands to rest between your ear and your jaw, pulling away to admire your wind-swept state in the heat of the moment. “You’re beautiful, y/n. You know that?” you could see tears beginning to form in the corners of the gorgeous, doe eyes you’d fallen into so deeply, his gaze leering so heavily into your own.

He pressed a final, barely-there kiss to your supple lips before dropping his head into the crook of your neck languidly. His hot breath stuttered against your neck, your hairs standing on end as you bathed in his being. His hold on you felt like molten lava against your skin, his very touch burning hot onto your sensitive skin, leaving red trails wherever his fingertips travelled.

“I love you, please forgive me,” he sounded distraught.

You felt a shiver run down your spine at his words, and another shiver once you felt the cold metal come between your bodies, although you didn’t have time to react before you felt it, before you heard it. The sound in itself would have been enough to make you faint, it was piercing and deadly and you were gone. The gun between you fell to the floor as Mark shook violently in horror at your now limp body, which had now fallen, crumbled lifelessly into his arms. Your heart. He’d shot you straight through your heart, he’d put a bullet through all your love for him.

“I’m so sorry,” he was hysterical, yet unnervingly tranquil at the same time.

“They told me I had to kill you. Your fathers’ company is our biggest threat and I-,” he paused, shaking his head as the tears began to cascade silently down his cheeks. “I had to do it. I had to make him vulnerable, I had to put work first.”

“I didn’t have a choice, I’m so fucking sorry, y/n,” he lowered himself to the ground and sobbed as his arms thrashed into your unmoving body, his fists clenching at your blood-soaked clothes. The colour drained from your skin and in turn, Marks face paled in trepidation, his heart felt heavy, yet so incredibly empty. He loves you, but he’d shot you. You were dead.

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jj-lynn21 · 4 years

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Santa’s favorite Elf Part 2: Ch 3: Pre-production

Santa’s fav elf ch 1, Santa’s fav elf ch 2, Santa’s fav elf ch 3, Santa’s fav elf ch 4

Santa’s fav Elf Part 2 ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4

warnings: A dash of angst

“Time for our fitting day, käraste.”

You woke groggily to Bill kissing your bare shoulder. Turning you reached for him before flickering eyes opened to see him smiling down at you. “How long do we have?”

He kissed your nose. “Enough time to throw on some cloths. I let you sleep while I showered. Joe will bring us coffee.”

You stretched and sighed as he got up. When you came out of the restroom dressed, he was on his cellphone texting. Seconds later there was a knock on the door. It was Joe.

“A caramel macchiato for the lady and a black coffee with two sugars for the gentleman”

You took the venti hot drink. “Just what I needed. Thank you.” Setting it down for a moment you bundled up for the walk to the car.

Bill slides his coat on with a red hat and scarf that covers most of his face. You follow Joe to car. You look out the window quiet as you sip your coffee just thinking about being “friends.” with a man you wanted so much.

“Are you ok?” Bill put a hand on your shoulder.

You sighed looked over at him. “Yeah, it’s just early.”

“We have an interview after our fitting.” He took your hand in his which confused you a little.

“You should have told me.” You whined. “I don’t think I’m dressed well enough for today. I’m not even wearing make-up”

“You can always grab an outfit from costuming and have the make-up department do what you want.” He added. “I think you look great as is.”

“Thank you.” You threw him an uneasy smile.

When you get to the staging site there are vans with equipment galore and the crew are hard at work putting set pieces together. Your driver that you have figured out is also a bodyguard ushered you over to one of the buildings on the premises. He walks farther with Bill when some ladies tell you to follow them to your fitting.

“Good morning Miss. My name is Carol.” one of the ladies said as she started measuring you. “Looks like you stayed about to same so no big costuming changes at this point. We have three wardrobe choices for you to try on today. You will get a bit of hair and makeup over with Tamera for different looks also. Then we will take some photos and show them to the director and producers. After they decide which look they like best, you and Santa will get some promo pics taken for the awaiting press. Lastly the two of you will do a few interviews together in the same PR tent you pose for photos. And that is all that is on the agenda until Monday.”

“Sounds like a full day of fun and games.” You finish your coffee. “I’m done with this. Ready to go.”

“You are going to be great.” She smiled. “if you want another coffee, water or anything else just say the word. Tamara will take you in make-up as me and Sara bring your first look out.”

“How are you doll?” The make-up girl fusses over you. “You do, you do, you look like a doll baby. We are going to give you a porcelain complexion like you have been in this cold climate. Then rosy up these adorable apple cheeks.”

“Whatever works” You smile. “Sorry I am still a little tan.”

“No need for sorry.” She began to lighten the skin tone on your face first. “People come in with full dark tans for movies like this sometimes. I have no problem with it. You do you. I provide some of that Hollywood magic to create your character.” She rubbed the makeup down your arms next. Then yours legs. We let that sit for a half hour before we apply your rosy cheeks and a dash of eye make up for your first look. By that time, you can try on your first costume.”

“Sounds good.” you strip your coat off hanging it on the back of your seat. The heaters in the room make it warm enough. “May I get a bottled water and a bagel with cream cheese? I haven’t had breakfast yet.”

“Of course, doll.” She goes out coming back minutes later with what you asked for. “I am going to put these plastic gloves on your hands for you to pick things up without getting the makeup everywhere.” She applied the gloves. “Anything else?”

“I’m good.”

As you ate careful not to get the makeup off your face before it dried you face timed Bill. Your phone was on a standing charger, so you didn’t have to hold it. He was in the same base porcelain color you were. Both of you waiting for it to dry.

“You were a little to tan too, I see.”

“Just a little.” he chuckled. “How are you doing. Did you see the art concept for your character? I hope you will still want to kiss me as this evil looking Santa. We are supposed to have this love that last beyond the grave or some shit like that.”

“I might have to do some heavy duty acting but I think I can pull it off.” You laughed.

“I have to go. Getting the wig and beard glued on in stages.” Bill told you. “FaceTime again in an hour and you can see the progress.”

“Sure thing, Bill.” You wave on the video. I should be on my second look by then. I have three to try.”

“I just have this one, but it will take a while.” He waved. “Talk to you later.” He hung up and you hung up just as Tamera was coming back.

She ran her index finger over your forehead. “All dry so we can start phase two.”

She put some basic make-up on you, and you went back to costuming. The first thing you tried was a green elf dress that looked very much like the original one you wore in the first movie with white fur trim. Cute, short and flirty. Thigh high white boots this time. Red and green fleece lined legging and green gloves with the white fur. Your scenes would be outdoors, so they wanted you to be as warm as possible. You stood for the photo with a plague with the movie title.

The next outfit was very much like the first except it was red. It also included a short cape over your shoulders. Another picture was taken. You thought you would need a coat over each if they were chosen. Something to just keep you warmer when not filming. You filmed indoor for the last movie, so the short skirt was fine. From the script this would be all outdoor shooting mostly when the darkness hit at 2p.m. You shivered just thinking about it.

The last outfit seemed way more reasonable for the weather in your opinion which didn’t count for much you thought. It was a long velour red dress with long sleeves with some gold designs at the bottom. It had a long red coat with fur white edging. It was held on with a thick black belt. Then a short cape that came up in a hat that matched. They added a curly blond wig, black chunky heeled boots and to top off the whole look a white mask made to look like Snowflakes around your eyes. Tamera darkened your lips in candy apple red lip stick.

You twirled around smiling loving how it looked and felt. A truly great look for someone so in love with Santa they would do anything to have him back. You felt similar about Bill. A few pictures were taken with the plaque.

“Back in your regular cloths until the higher ups decide which look they like better.” Carol said as her and her assistant took the costume off you.

“I really hope this one.” You beamed. “It seems it would be warm enough for in outside in cold weather.”

“Not my call but I agree.” Carol’s assistant carefully hung the outfit. Then she took the photos printed from the digital camera in an envelope to give to the powers that be. “What would you like for lunch? We have subs in turkey, beef and hand with chips or fries. Cold pasta salad. Coffee, tea, water and soft drinks. My assistant will pick them up on her way back.”

“Pasta salad and a caramel latte, please, thank you.” You asked politely.

As you waited on a comfy plush sofa you checked in on how Bill was doing. Dirty white long hair, beard, and mustache was drying when he answered the phone looking up at you.

“You doing okay Bill?”

“Yeah, I just have to lay back until this dries.”

You could barely see his smile as he attempted it.

“Then I get to put on the extra tum tum and suit.”

You giggle. “Tum tum, that is so cute. I tried on a few different looks. They are showing some pix to the producers and director.”

“Yeah, they just got here.” He scratched the corner of his ear where some of glue was dripping. “I’m an executive producer so they put an envelope on the table here. I will have to look when I can sit up. Which outfit did you like best?”

“I loved all of them but since we are shooting outside the longer dress with all the layers is the one I won’t freeze to death in.”

“I will keep that in mind and pass it along to the others.” He glanced away from the the phone a second and then back. “Michael is coming in to check if this is dry enough. See you soon.”

“Looking forward to it.” You hang up.

This whole process had already taken four hours. You expected to be in your costume dealing with the pr photos and interviews by now, but it would be another hour before you heard that you would get to wear the longer dress. A half hour after that you were escorted to meet Bill at the door to another building. Joe was there to watching over the situation, so people did not attempt to touch or get to close either of you.

“Just take a breath my favorite elf.” Santa (Bill) suggested. “I’ll tap your back to turn where the cameras are flashing. Smile with your eyes not your mouth. Try to keep your face relaxed.”

You nod fidgeting a little. Your eyes wide. Nervousness runs through your body. You have watched enough of these photo shoots with characters sure but being on this side of it was different. Bill took your hand and kissed your knuckles as Joe opened the door and flashes from cameras started going off.

“Don’t forget to breath.” He murmured before walking with you to your first mark.

The camera flashes went off as multiple photographers told you to look towards them for a perfect shot. You could not look both ways. You looked up at Bill trying to breath without hyperventilating. He looked to you eyes sparkling. His pinkened lips in a small smile. You smiled back as the cameras flashed.

“Twirl for us (YN)”

Bill twirled you away from him. He moved to another mark. Some cameras followed him. A few stayed on you for separate pictures. You stood in place getting your Barings trying to keep your eyes smiling and face relaxed as Bill told you. All the cameras moved to him. You waited until he held out a hand for you to join him again. He escorted you back through the exit.

You took a deep breath. “That was a little claustrophobic.”

“It always is.” He hugged you the best he could in his Santa suit. “Are you going to be okay with the interview part of our day? We just sit and answer some of the same questions over and over. I think only five reporters but could be more. I will be right at your side the whole time. “

“I guess after a small break I will be ready.” You walked back to the costuming building where you parted with Bill again to get your costume off.

You glanced through the clothing finding a cashmere sweater to go with the jeans you wore today. It looked better than the bulgy sweatshirt you wore. Tamara toned down your make-up for a natural camera-ready look. Bill had a lot more to deal with to get back to himself, so it took him a bit longer. You waited patiently with a Christmas chocolate chip cookie and bottled water.

Joe opened the door. “It's time.”

#santa's fav elf #pre production #movie making #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard fanfiction #au #fiction #x-reader

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Mortal Kombat (2021) vs. Mortal Kombat (1995): Which is Better?

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This article contains Mortal Kombat (2021) spoilers.

“Test your might.” These are the words of a minigame in the original Mortal Kombat arcade fighter from 1992. They were meant to signal an interlude between the simple pleasures of digitized sprites spilling buckets of blood. Yet they’ve also become synonymous with a franchise that’s arguably the most popular video game fighter of all-time. The phrase is also a pretty apt description for the various filmmakers who’ve attempted the challenge of taming this crazy dragon on screen.

More than any other video game series, Mortal Kombat has seen a plethora of live-action adaptations, from Hollywood movies to syndicated television. This weekend marks another milestone in that history, too, with Warner Bros. and New Line Cinema’s hotly anticipated Mortal Kombat reboot opening in theaters and premiering on HBO Max. It’s the third Mortal Kombat movie released under the New Line banner, but let’s just call it the second serious attempt at putting this universe on screen after the 1995 cult classic directed by Paul W.S. Anderson.

That ’95 movie holds the dubious honor of being generally considered the best video game movie adaptation of all-time, thanks to a tongue-in-cheek tone perfect for its mid-‘90s moment and maybe the greatest use of techno music in film. Genuinely, how many other pictures have the soundtrack scream the title of the movie over and over again, and it seems like a good idea?

The new movie took a different approach to the material, and certainly a bloodier one. While both adaptations share the same basic premise of chosen “Earthrealm” guardians protecting our dimension from an invading force via martial arts fights, the executions diverge radically. Here’s how.

The Story

The starkly different approach to storytelling in director Simon McQuoid’s 2021 Mortal Kombat is evident during the film’s opening scene. Beginning in 1600s Japan with a gnarly, brutal fight sequence between Sub-Zero (Joe Taslim) and Scorpion (Hiroyuki Sanada), this version of Mortal Kombat relies heavily on lore and world-building. If you know the video game backstory of Sub-Zero/Bi-Han, and how he was kidnapped as a child by the Lin Kuei cult so they could brainwash him into the magical ninja we now see slaughtering Scorpion’s family, the scene has a sense of fateful tragedy.

If you don’t, well Taslim and Sanada are such gifted martial artists that it still looks really cool. By contrast, Mortal Kombat of the ’95 vintage is pretty straightforward and to the point. This is basically an interdimensional version of the Bruce Lee classic, Enter the Dragon (1973), only with magical powers and the fate of the world at stake.

We’re introduced to three fighters in ‘95, Liu Kang (Robin Shou), Johnny Cage (Linden Ashby), and Sonya Blade (Bridgette Wilson-Sampras), who all get on a boat to the tournament for different reasons. And while Liu Kang was raised by his Shaolin monk upbringing to know what this tournament is, the other two act as our eyes and ears into this strange world of mysticism and Outworld menace. By the time they reach the island, they understand they need to compete with superpowered foes to save Earth in a structured tournament.

Conversely, Mortal Kombat (2021) is curiously both more secretive and open about its bizarre universe. For a much larger chunk of its running time, the new movie’s point-of-view character Cole Young (Lewis Tan) is completely mystified by the superpowered horrors happening around him while the viewer is keyed in early by scenes set in the evil dimension of Outworld. There we see the dastardly sorcerer Shang Tsung (Chin Han) scheme from a throne about killing Cole in order to prevent a prophecy vaguely connected with the movie’s prologue scene in the 1600s. So he sends Sub-Zero to kill Cole in his day-to-day life as an MMA fighter, slaughtering him before he understands he’s been chosen to participate in the sacred Mortal Kombat tournament, which is held in secret every generation.

In fact, there is no actual tournament in the new film. Rather the plot eventually becomes Shang Tsung’s chosen band of evil warriors attempting to cheat ahead of the conflict by attacking Earthrealm’s depleted champions before they even discover they have superpowers (or “arcanas”) and know what Mortal Kombat is. The film thus becomes a quest movie with Cole joining forces with other “chosen ones” (or chosen one-aspirants) to find the Temple of Raiden, a lightning god (played by Tadanobu Asano) who represents the interests of Earthrealm in the tournaments. From there the heroes must learn their powers and evade preemptive, cheating attacks from Outworld’s thuggish baddies.

Side by side, the approaches appear to be the differences between a traditional (if derivative) martial arts flick and a modern studio blockbuster that is trying to cram as much fan service and world-building lore into a two-hour movie as possible in the hopes of making fanboys happy. I hesitate to say the 2021 film is fully following the Marvel Studios template given its copious amounts of blood and (seeming) lack of interest in building a shared universe of interconnected franchises. However, the 2021 film was certainly released in a post-Marvel world where the focus in studio committee rooms is less on telling a single story and more on building a whole convoluted mythology filled with fan favorite characters who are begging to be explored endlessly by future movies. It’s less story-driven than it is content-driven.

As a result, it leaves the narrative lacking. Viewers know long before Cole or 2021’s Sonya Blade (Jessica McNamee) what’s going on, and all the anticipation for a tournament that never materializes feels anti-climactic. With its simple structure, the Anderson-directed movie in the ‘90s plays out much more satisfyingly with three heroes (plus poor dead meat like “Art Lean”) entering a tournament by choice or trickery and then trying to survive it while learning vanilla, if tangible, life lessons. Liu Kang needs to accept his destiny; Johnny Cage must look before he leaps; and Sonya has to accept she’ll be the film’s damsel in distress even though she kicks ass. It’s an Enter the Dragon knockoff but it still has more kick than fan service.

Round One goes to 1995.

The Tone

The tone and aesthetics are also jarringly different between the two movies. Released in 1995, the same year Pierce Brosnan became James Bond, and two years before Arnold Schwarzenegger chilled out as Mr. Freeze, Mortal Kombat (1995) is an unmistakably campy movie and it leans into that fact.

Working with a low budget for a Hollywood spectacle even before New Line Cinema cut his funds by another $2 million right before cameras rolled, Anderson directed a B-movie that accepted its limitations and had fun with it. Apparently stars Ashby and Christopher Lambert, who played Lord Raiden in the ’95 movie, improvised dialogue throughout the shoot and rewrote entire scenes. As a consequence, Lambert’s lightning god was more of a jovial trickster in temperament, reminiscent of Loki instead of Odin. Johnny Cage, meanwhile, was essentially the film’s Han Solo: a cocksure wiseacre next to the stoic hero (Liu Kang) and a no-nonsense woman who doesn’t like to be called princess (Sonya).

As again signaled by the almost funereal opening sequence of Mortal Kombat (2021), where Sub-Zero murders Scorpion’s young family, the 2021 film is going for a differing sensibility. There is actually quite a bit of humor still present, with the real reason the Johnny Cage character got cut becoming apparent the moment we meet Kano (Josh Lawson), a loudmouth smartass who takes on the comic relief role but with an added slice of thuggery. Hence his dialogue has a lot more F-bombs than it does cracks about $500 sunglasses.

Other than moments where Kano is allowed to steal scenes, however, Mortal Kombat (2021) plays it pretty straight. Asano’s Raiden is imperious and his fighters stoic. However, it’s also worth noting Raiden is played by a Japanese actor, as opposed to a white American-born Frenchman who was raised in Switzerland (Lambert has quite the international background). Indeed, one of the more admirable qualities of the 2021 film is the focus on a diverse cast that includes more roles for Asian actors and people of color, whereas the 1995 film whitewashed Raiden and left out the Black American character Jax for little more than a cameo.

The 2021 film also upped the gore quotient considerably. While the martial arts of the 1995 film were decidedly PG-13, the tone of the movie was only a few steps removed from Power Rangers in some respects, including its introduction of a horrible CGI creation known as Reptile. The Reptile in the 2021 film appears more convincingly, like the latest monstrosity out of a Jurassic World lab, and the violence he commits is visually gruesome (more on that later).

Honestly, preferences over the aesthetic differences between the two films comes down to a matter of taste. I prefer the tongue-in-cheek eye rolls of the 1995 film given how nonsensical this universe is, and how at the end of the day its target audience remains children. Yet I imagine many adult fans of the video games will prefer the blood-soaked earnestness found in 2021.

Round Two is a draw.

Chosen Players

Anyone who’s picked up a fighting game will tell you it’s all about finding a character or two you like and then training up with them. In 1995, Anderson had the advantage of primarily adapting the original 1992 arcade game with its limited collection of playable characters. Ergo, his film’s lineup easily focused on the three aforementioned heroes of Liu Kang, Johnny Cage, and Sonya Blade, plus the ambiguous Princess Kitana (Talisa Soto), and Lord Raiden. Meanwhile he divided his villain screen time between the sorcerer Shang Tsung (Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa) and Shang Tsung’s minions, who were essentially glorified Bond henchmen with individual gimmicks.

Fan favorites Sub-Zero and Scorpion are present in the ’95 movie—with much more colorful, game-accurate costumes—yet they’re relatively low-hanging fruit in the tournament’s brackets. Their rivalry is given lip-service but they are dispatched by heroes Liu Kang and Johnny Cage relatively easily. Meanwhile Trevor Goddard’s Kano is more a hapless comic relief baddie who Wilson-Sampras’ Sonya kills with a great laugh line. “Give me a break,” Kano pleads with his head pinned between her thighs. “Okay,” she shoots back before snapping his neck.

Still, the movie largely belongs to Tagawa who makes a meal out of the scenery as the big bad. The guttural pleasure he has in so naturally turning all the over-the-top commands in the video game into his dialogue—“Finish Him!;” “Fatality;” “Test Your Might”—is infectious.

The 2021 film relies on a much larger cast of characters and, unlike the 1995 movie, attempts to give them each a moment to shine in the way Kitana and the original Kano could only dream. This surprisingly begins with the introduction of a totally new character in Cole Young as our point-of-view protagonist. While fan favorite Liu Kang was the hero in ’95, the character is now a supporting player played by Ludi Lin in 2021. And he’s not alone. The new Liu Kang’s cousin, Kung Lao (Max Huang), also gets enough screen time to show off his character’s beloved razor-rimmed hat, which he dispatches one of the movie’s villains with.

There is also the new Sonya, who may have the most complete arc as she strives to be accepted as a champion for Earthrealm, and Jax (Mechad Brooks), who is Sonya’s partner with the chosen one birthmark and who gets a new nasty origin story for his metal arms. And then the new Kano spends as much time working with the good guys as he does becoming a villain in an entirely rushed and unconvincing third act plot twist.

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There are even more villains, most of whom amount to glorified cameos, including Mileena (Sisi Stringer), Nitara (Mel Jarnson), and Kabal (Daniel Nelson). However, they’re all even more perfunctory than Sub-Zero and Scorpion were in 1995. At least the ‘90s ninjas each got a few minutes to show off before being dispatched. Even the ostensible main villain of 2021, the new Shang Tsung, is fairly underserved, left to state banal dialogue from a throne without a throne room, and he’s never allowed to dominate scenes the way Tagawa did so gleefully back in the day.

Unfortunately, this is because the 2021 film has so many characters that it lacks any sense of narrative focus or cohesion. Tan’s arc of wanting to learn his power/arcana to defend his family is as broad and serviceable a hook as Shou’s 1995 Liu Kang wanting to avenge the murder of his brother. But Tan’s Cole Young gets lost in the shuffle after the first act and until the movie’s ending. Character turns like Kano betraying the other heroes similarly feels hackneyed because there is too much noise on screen to really care about who’s making it. Even Kang Lao’s death falls flat. It’s admirable that it’s a good guy fans theoretically should care about (unlike 1995’s token Black character created by the filmmakers to die), but the 2021 movie fails to make the uninitiated be concerned.

Of course there are exceptions. Namely Sub-Zero and Scorpion. Even though Scorpion ill-advisedly disappears for nearly all of the movie’s running time after the film’s terrific opening 10 minutes, Sanada has such presence, and such strong chemistry with Taslim’s Sub-Zero, that their opening salvo leaves you waiting the rest of the movie for Scorpion’s revenge. Taslim is also able to give Sub-Zero some surprisingly tangible, if only hinted at, pathos even after he kills a kid in his first scene and is then forced to act behind a mask thereafter. He’s the real villain of the piece you want to see go down, and his death scene is incredibly satisfying as a result.

It’s probably enough for fans of the games to favor this kitchen sink approach. But overall, less is more.

Round Three goes to 1995.

Fight Scenes

If there is one realm where the 2021 movie truly excels in over the previous film, this is it. And yes, a big part of that is the gore quotient. Whereas the 1995 flick was produced with a PG-13 rating in mind (my elementary school thanks New Line for that), the 2021 movie was able to embrace the gross out charm that made the original game stand out at the arcade all those decades ago. Street Fighter might’ve been first, but only Mortal Kombat let you pull the other player’s spine out.

While that effect doesn’t quite happen in the 2021 movie, almost everything else does. Nitara goes face first into a Kung Lao’s buzzsaw hat, which cuts her cleanly in half; Sub-Zero freezing Jax’s arms and then shattering them in a stomach-churning effect; and instead of going off a cliff, Prince Goro is disemboweled by Cole Young—which almost makes up for the fact that Goro is reduced to a mindless mute this time.

It’s like a highlight reel of fatalities from the video game. But the reason why this film’s fight scenes really stand above the 1995 film isn’t the bloodletting; it’s the action leading up to it. With brutal fight choreography, the new Mortal Kombat shines whenever it lets actors who can actually do the stunts take the arena. That includes Lewis Tan, whose Cole Young mostly fights other MMA types or CG monsters. But it’s especially true for Joe Taslim of The Raid fame. As the villainous Sub-Zero, his moves are lightning quick, even if his powers leave opponents frozen stiff. So when he shares the screen with Tan or Sanada, the action reveals an auhentic flair.

In comparison, the 1995 film suffers a bit from the sin Johnny Cage is trying to dodge within the story: it relies on stunt doubles and tight editing to make the fights exciting. It’s a shame too since Shou is an excellent martial artist, and the one scene he got to choreograph—Liu Kang versus Reptile—has an edge. But much of the time, Shou’s constrained by the direction and editing. Ashby and Wilson-Sampras, conversely, are not actual martial artists, though credit must be given to Wilson-Sampras for doing all her own stunts when getting the role of Sonya at the last minute.

Still, the fights stand taller in 2021. It’s a bit of a shame though that the movie is so heavily edited that it too often hides this fact. Unlike the 1995 ensemble, most of the cast has the moves in 2021, but the editing still feels stuck in the past with its reliance on confounding quick cuts and coverage. During our current era of John Wick and Atomic Blonde this is both a bizarre and disappointing choice. Nevertheless, this is an easy call.

Round Four goes to 2021.

Ending

The final fight was relatively satisfying in 1995. Tagawa is a preening villain, and when the Immortals’ techno “Mortal Kombat” theme plays, it’s a pleasure to watch Liu Kang wipe that smug smile off Shang Tsung’s face. However, the ending keeps going with a Star Wars-esque sendoff to Liu Kang’s force ghost brother, and then the movie undermines its catharsis by immediately setting up a sequel.

In the picture’s final moments, our three heroes, plus Kitana, return to the real-life Thai temple that’s supposed to be Liu Kang’s home. Lord Raiden waits for them there, getting some final sideways cracks in before Outworld’s evil emperor Shao Khan appears like a giant specter in the clouds. He immediately threatens an Earthrealm invasion, despite losing the tournament.

I can attest that in 1995, this was a stunning cliffhanger for eight-year-olds everywhere. But then… Mortal Kombat: Annihilation (1997), one of the worst films of the late ‘90s, happened.

Meanwhile in the 2021 film, we have a much more satisfying death for its villain when Scorpion returns from hell to send Sub-Zero to the hot place. Their fight is much more technically satisfying, and the cliffhanger setup is a lot more subtle. After defeating Shang Tsung’s warriors, if not Shang Tsung himself, the heroes of Earthrealm saved us all without an actual tournament ever occurring. And instead of Outworld cheating in this moment by invading anyway, they retreat. It’s an odd choice since they’ve been cheating the whole film, so why start playing by the rules now?

Even so, it leaves a destination for a second movie to actually head toward. And to tease that fact further, it’s implied Cole Young will now travel to Hollywood to recruit movie star Johnny Cage for a sequel. It’s pure fan service, but the kind that leaves the possibility open for better things to come. Considering we know where the 1995 movie’s cliffhanger leads—to pits of cinematic hell worse than any faced by Scorpion in the last 400 years—this is a victory for 2021 by default.

Round Five goes to 2021.

Final Victor

Ultimately, neither of these films are high art nor do they aspire to be. In some ways, it’s a case of picking your poison between schlock or schlock. Each has advantages over the other, as laid out above, and each is a long way from a flawless victory. Nonetheless, due simply to narrative and tonal cohesiveness, and just more memorable lead characters, I’ll go with the one that actually gets to the tournament this whole damn thing’s designed around.

Game over.

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