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cloveroctobers · 3 years

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LEVEL 1 — Perception

A/n: to make things easier due to my hectic work schedule...I’m deciding on writing blurbs or short fics for right now, to get content out in a timely manner. I’m open to writing pairings but I notice those don’t get that much attention but I’m attempting to do so anyways...at least at the start of this series which is absolutely inspired by we’re not really strangers. I love the game, it’s very personal and intense so if you have the chance, get it if you’re open to connecting with the people you care about in a passionate way. I’ve also decided to make the characters a little bit older...college wise/around the actors ages based on these questions lol even tho these teens are already dramatic + have a lot going on.

Synopsis: a interviewer that Spencer is very familiar with, Rochelle Mosley has resurfaced to complete her senior year project at Claremont as a journalist. Rochelle is all about going big and never going home, so the first person on her list is one of the guy’s that intrigued her the most not so long ago. So she reached out to Thee Spencer James and to put the word out to anyone else that might be interested. And here we are!

::: S. James + O. Baker ::: All to me

Rochelle is seen running her finger over her pearly whites, making sure they’re squeaky clean after eating her brunch which consisted of a poached egg, an açaí bowl, served with lemon water. She already spent twenty minutes brushing her teeth and whitening them last night to prepare for this moment. She knew this idea would guarantee her nothing but a A+. She had friends from the film department around helping her with the equipment and due to this Panasonic it made things chaotic opposed to having this interview face to face.

Rochelle knew that she could have at least met with Spencer for his half but decided to do what he was comfortable with. She wouldn’t push any boundaries...yet. Regardless it would have to be a video call since Olivia attended MassArt and appeared that she would not be coming back to California any time soon, according to her insta stories that is.

Nonetheless Rochelle knew how to negotiate so here she was working on their terms. With a sigh, she straightened out her posture, fixed the waves in her hair, reapplied some matte lipstick—again, glanced around her to make sure she liked her set up and eyed her friends to make sure they were doing what they were getting paid for, and plastered on a commercial smile as she connected the video call waiting on her two guests.

It only took a minute for Spencer’s face to pop in.

“Spencer!” Rochelle greeted which he replied with slight raised brows and a smile at her volume, “so glad you can be here and punctual at that.”

Spencer answered, “well you know, if I agreed to be something I don’t want to waste anybody’s time ya know?”

“Always the wise one aren’t you?” Rochelle commented before continuing on, “how are things? How is UCLA?”

“I really like it here, uh. I’m almost done with my sophomore year, but with the way things are looking right now? Might have to switch to remote this spring semester...we’re all basically on standby at the moment. It’s crazy times but we gon’ get through it, I know it.” Spencer chatted with ease.

Rochelle was multitasking looking to the side at her phone to keep track of time. Olivia Baker was five minutes late now, which was slowly working Rochelle’s nerves. The girl had her number and although they didn’t talk much through texts or through anything really, it was common courtesy to let someone know if you were going to be late or couldn’t make it.

“Yes! We have to keep a optimistic attitude as best as we can. I hope you’re being safe out there?” Rochelle met Spencer’s eyes, after silently debating if she should send Miss. Olivia a text.

Spencer dipped his head, “absolutely. And yourself?”

“Oh yes, honey. This thing is ruining lives unexpectedly but it’s insane to me that people believe this isn’t real. It’s the denial for me. Especially here in California! Then when they catch it, it’s suddenly a different tune. Sure the numbers might be a little questionable but not too much is a lie. Read the facts, do the research. But—

Olivia showed up. Eight minutes later...

Rochelle forced a smile, “Olivia Baker! How nice of you to join us.”

“I know, I know. I’m super late and I’m sure you don’t want to hear the excuses so let’s just dive right into this social experiment project thing you have going on. Sorry by the way.” Olivia rambled which Spencer chuckled at.

Olivia paused, “hey, Spencer.”

“Hey, Liv.”

Rochelle picked up on the chemistry or tension or whatever you want to name it. It was all still there and oh so fresh. She knew this would be good and knew they had to be the first on her list. Sure Rochelle maybe a year or two older than these two but she also had friends that were younger and gossipers like her so she always had the inside scoop when she needed it. So yes, she knew all about spelivia.

“How’s Boston?” Rochelle asked politely, breaking the two’s stare contest.

Olivia inhaled, “it’s better than California, that’s for sure. It feels like I’m getting a fresh new start and it’s just what I needed.”

“Yeah i see you’re at your best there. You seem to be thriving.”

“well yeah, because it’s new. Sometimes you need to get away, I mean I’ve been in California for eighteen years of my life. I always knew I wanted to be somewhere else...don’t get me wrong, California is still very much my home.”

Nice save there, Olivia.

Rochelle clasped her hands together with a wide smile after a small silence filled the air after Olivia’s statement.

“Moving right along, I’ve sent the both of you a series of questions that you both should have received correct?”

Spencer pulled the padded envelope from the side and waved it in front of camera. Rochelle smiled at how organized this guy was and shifted her glance to Olivia who widened her doe brown eyes.

“Ah, yeah I’ve got that. It should be around here somewhere? Hopefully. If it’s not then it’s definitely in the car.” Olivia pointed.

Rochelle sighed, “very well. Please proceed on retrieving the envelope, it’s crucial to this interview.”

Olivia scooted back from the desk and held up a finger as she disappeared from the screen. Rochelle turned back to the brown boy who was toying with the tan object.

“Have you read any of the questions, Spencer James?”

“I really haven’t had the time to, no.”

“Great!” Rochelle quipped, “this will make this experience truly authentic.”

Spencer thought about what was said, wondering where this would get him. He understood what Rochelle informed him in the email and she answered all of his questions. He knew this wouldn’t strictly be about him and Olivia since he invited his friends along for the ride as well.

“Please open the envelope as we wait on Olivia. BUT only read the first question on the first card, we don’t want you to get too far ahead of yourself since that wouldn’t be fair to Olivia.” Rochelle instructed while Spencer took a small inhale before doing so.

Spencer read over the card, his eyes flying over the words as he read them pretty quickly. He hummed at that which Rochelle began to question him on but Olivia announced her presence.

“I’ve got it!” She let out in a sang-song voice.

“Olivia, please open the envelope but only read your first card’s question. Spencer has already done so while we were waiting for you,” Rochelle instructed before turning back to the sophomore, “Spencer, whenever you’re ready please read the question and answer.”

How would the person closest to you describe you in three words?

Olivia halted as she pulled out her own card as Spencer showed the card while reading it from the side.

“I’d think they would say I’m...compassionate, hardworking, and...loving?” Spencer announced, taking his time on thinking that over.

It was Rochelle’s turn to hum as she asked, “Do you agree with his choices, Olivia?”

Olivia was confused. “W-what?”

“Would you say Spencer is: compassionate, hardworking, and loving?”

Olivia quickly recovered, “we don’t know if Spencer is referring to me on that question.”

“Spencer, when answering this question who are you saying is the closet person to you?”

“I—uh—I consider a handful of people that are close to me.” Spencer expressed, “but I’d be lying if I didn’t say Olivia isn’t the first person that came to mind. Even though there’s a shift right now in our...relationship due to the distance—among other things...we’re still the closest and that speaks for itself.”

Rochelle gave a smug smile as she looked at Olivia who opened and closed her mouth. Before Rochelle could encourage Olivia to read her question, she already went forth after clearing her throat a few times.

What reality show do you think I’m most likely to binge watch? Explain.

Olivia peered up at Spencer.

“Oh? I’m supposed to answer this about her now? Aight. Lemme see...i don’t know you seem to find a lot of free time to watch things...maybe it’s a film major thing? Months ago you were watching ‘I love New York, then you told me you and Simone were watching ‘Love is Blind’ or—

“It was actually ‘married at first sight’.” Olivia cut in.

Spencer widened his eyes and pointed at the screen with a small laugh, “that makes sense.”

“Why?” Rochelle wanted to know.

Spencer’s answer was firm, “that’s not our business to tell.”

Rochelle scribbled a quick note on that, ruling these two out on that question to ask later. She made sure to circle Simone’s name and put a question mark next to it.

“To answer your previous question,” Spencer redirected the interview back, “since a lot of these were love reality shows...I know that’s not the only genre you watch and you listen to a lot of podcasts. So I’m gonna say this show called, ‘alone.’”

Olivia blinked.

Rochelle waved her hands as she signaled for one of her friends to find the show on the laptop they were on, “have you watched this show, Spencer? And please elaborate on why you chose this show for Olivia?”

“No I haven’t. I only saw the trailer for it randomly when I was on YouTube watching lebron’s greatest moments clips.” Spencer replied earning a snort from Olivia and a eye-roll from Rochelle, “I picked that show because Liv feels that way, always. Like she’s never been seen before, truly seen. And this show tests these guys to survive on their own in the wilderness, putting not only their bodies but their minds through a lot. It’s mainly about survival that much I gained from the trailer. Liv’s always been a loner for as long as I’ve known her and feels that’s how she knows how to survive by doing it all on her own when she doesn’t have to. I see that and I understood that from my first day at Beverly.”

...

#all american #spelivia #Spencer James #Olivia Baker #all american cw #spencer x olivia

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groovesnjams · 2 years

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GROOVES n jamsS.O.T.Y. 2021 |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| 11 ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

“drivers license” by Olivia Rodrigo

MG:

Until this year I really didn’t know who Peyton Manning was, and I didn’t find this too weird. Football is not my sport. It comes to me hard, a bunch of ants in a wide angle shot, every play given a secret nickname so that any talk is immediately reduced to drivel, and pants that lace up the front as though grasping at the Renaissance despite being made of a blend of plastics. If you don’t watch football, perhaps you watch Nationwide commercials? Reader, just watch football, please. I was very dubious about Peyton Manning when my husband put on “the Manningcast” one Monday night. Football announcers are some of the worst, to the extent that I think they’re doing more to obscure the game than to explain it, and this was football announcing with the added twist that you’re watching two brothers on a filmed zoomed call. I’m not doing it justice on purpose; it’s fucking great. Peyton Manning is a very weird person and that’s the level where I meet him, respectfully.

I am also coming to terms with a childhood that I can only think of as baffling anymore. I understand that Olivia Rodrigo, if she’s not deliberately for the Millennial woman, is embraced -- strongly, stiflingly? -- by my demographic because of nostalgia reasons. If I’m feeling nostalgic when I listen to “drivers license” it’s the perverse, slippery kind that you have for all the romanticized lives you never lived because I was not a teenager like the narrator is, crystallized so perfectly as to be infinite. I cling to the lines about driving up to people’s houses and around culs-de-sac and mixing up these milestones with feelings like love, but the closest I get to relating to “drivers license” is the memories I have of looking my classmates up in the phone book, making note of their addresses, and then, if by chance, I was in a car that drove past one of those addresses, I’d look at the house and imagine the lives inside but every other moment of every other day was none of my business. I know what normal looks like, it looks like this song, but I also lived something completely different and now I like Olivia Rodrigo because I know she also lived something completely different. This is not a song about how first heartbreak and first independence are inextricably linked. This is a song about what happens when you don’t have a childhood.

I don’t belong to Peyton Manning and Olivia Rodrigo doesn’t belong to me, but I do think it’s ok to take comfort in strange corners. Rodrigo’s entry into mainstream consciousness a fully formed, deliberately curated pulse of references to Millennial touchstones (Taylor Swift, Paramore) is unnatural to the point of calculation but that’s forgettable when confronted with her steel-eyed need for domination. Sour was an album that only existed at number one, Rodrigo an artist born into an imperial phase. The secret to what makes the Manningcast entertaining even if you don’t understand football is the combination of an expert in their field with a pirate broadcast. Without broadcast set dressing, stiffly cued conversation, and, at least I think, a distinction between host and producer our sometimes analysts (the other bizarrely fun thing is that an NFL season is seventeen weeks or something but the Manningcast is only for ten of them; a mercurial pleasure) have no choice but to speak off the cuff and cut loose. “drivers license” revels in the same joy of mastery that Peyton Manning expresses when he recaps a particularly brilliant play. None of us will ever be Peyton Manning or Olivia Rodrigo but to witness them understand something so thoroughly is a peek behind a closed door into a room holding a meeting of a secret club you weren’t invited to pledge. It’s belonging in all the most painful ways.

DV:

A lot of the Olivia Rodrigo hype comes down to the uncomfortable fact that as a society we do love it when survivors of the Disney system say the word “fuck” in public. But in her defense: the “I still fuckin’ love you babe” is counterintuitively the weak point of “drivers license”, and might actually work better as the clean “You know I still love you,” since it suggests an awareness on the ex’s part that’s otherwise missing. And either way, the song’s heart rests not in the bridge but in the quiet of the post-chorus “Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street”, which manages to encapsulate the pathos of the entire song in a single line. When you’re a teen in the suburbs, cars are connection: driving is both the way to reach your crush, and - because suburbs are designed to minimize public space - it’s also the only place you might have a chance to be together without someone else intruding. The tragedy of “drivers license” isn’t that someone wrote a song about Olivia Rodrigo and didn’t mean it, and it isn’t that she’s still in love with someone who’s moved on. It’s that when you’re a teenager, cars are for sharing, and she’s got no one sitting beside her.

#gnjsoty2k21 #olivia rodrigo #drivers license #music #this may never make sense lol #maybe it just needs to be LONGER??#also just to be clear eli is the cute one and peyton is his brother #it's rude to phrase it that way but someone has to

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secretsofthedarkestkind-arch · 3 years

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OTP/Romance Prompts: 1/? AKA Verse AU's @storieswrittcn

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"Are you positive about that?" Lee asked almost in disbelief hearing the news her CI had just given her. The girl was never wrong when it came to tips for the detective; Lee paid too much money for her to ever risk being wrong. The confirmation had the brunette's feet slowing to a stop.

No harm list...global level...death to anyone who tried...Petrova crime family...

"Check your bank account in about an hour," Lee mutters lost in thought as she hangs up the phone still standing in one the hallways of NYPD. The SVU-- she'd been offered a spot in Organized Crime more than once but she always denied the transfer for personal reason's-- Detective's life had been chaos for the last month and a half. Ever since that day she'd decided to go into that bank before work.

The day had started like any other; oversleeping, rushing toward PD with traffic being horrible, calling Olivia Benson--her partner-- to tell her she'd be late, and desperately stopping for coffee to try and bring some form of sanity back to her (Really, Lee was sure her body held more caffeine than it did actual blood at this point). After paying for her coffee, Lee had realized she didn't have anymore cash on her, glancing across the street she'd found a branch of her bank. Why not grab some cash from the ATM? Her eldest brother Damon had drove it into her head growing up that it was always smart to have some cash on you. 'You never know when you're going to need it, when your card won't work or somewhere can only accept cash.'

So really what happened next was Damon's fault, it always was right?

As if to prove to Lee her day was not going to go smoothly, the ATM outside was out of order causing her to walk inside. She'd taken maybe less than twenty steps inside when the first gunshot had gone off and screams followed. Instinct had her ducking down for cover, one hand reaching for her cell phone while the other went to the gun holstered on her hip. Quickly, she'd sent out an SOS with her location to Olivia with three words attached; robbery inside gunpoint. Once that was taken care of, Lee glanced around the small counter to see just how many gunmen there were; five that she could see. She couldn't let anyone get hurt though, it wasn't in her nature.

Everything that happened next somewhat happened in a blur. The gunman had been getting everyone down, the leader at the main counter tossing bags to cashiers to fill with money, while another beside him tried to keep everyone calm; the usual of if everyone cooperates no one will get hurt, we just want the banks money not to hurt you. But the way his voice cracked told Lee that wasn't exactly true. So regardless of consequence she's stood up, badge in her hand.

Then her horrible day just got weird; the closest gunman had started to shake with fear, muttering a soft 'Oh Shit'. His eyes telling her that he almost seemed to recognize her. The next one's face paled as he looked at her and he stumbled a few steps back, signaling to get the other three's attention. Their reactions didn't fair much better. All five appeared to forget what they were doing, why they were here in the first place, and run out the door as if their pants had been on fire or Lee had been the Grimm Reaper himself. It didn't make sense--yes, she was a cop but that reaction, the way they almost recognized her? It didn't fit.

So after hours with Internal Affairs, questioning by Robbery and Organized Crime detectives---Lee had contacted her CI to try and get answers. It'd taken the girl a month to find them and another half a month to verify her information.

No harm list...global level...death to anyone who tried...Petrova crime family...

Petrova was a last name she hadn't heard since she was twenty-one, eight whole years ago. It was the reason she denied any transfer to Organized Crime. Katerina Petrova (as most of the world knew her Katherine Pierce) had been not just her childhood crush or high school sweetheart, but the love of her life; the one person she would truly love until the day she took her last breath. Lee's heart, soul, and body still belonged to the brunette all these years later. The detective blamed her lack of a love life on her work, but the true reason was she'd never wanted anyone but Katerina.

The two had grown up together, meeting in Kindergarten, and formed an unbreakable bonds. They'd been with each other through everything; Lee's horrible home life caused by her parents, Katerina's own home life complications being the daughter of mobsters, both never seemingly good enough or as good as their respective twins, their parent's deaths (Well, Lee's mother and both of Katerina's). By middle school they were a couple; possessive/territorial, protective, and madly in love. High school, they were each other's first everything. Katerina not hiding how her life was changing at the young age of sixteen; after her parent's death, she'd started the takeover of the Petrova Crime family while Elena got to play normal high schooler. When Katerina had dropped out, Lee had almost followed suit--planned to be right there at Katerina's side to help her no matter what it was or how dark her soul would become. But her girlfriend had stopped Lee from doing that, she wanted one of them to at least graduate and Lee to have a chance to go to the art school of her dreams.

Then Lee had graduated, plans of art school gone mainly because the Salvatore hadn't wanted to leave Katerina---by eighteen, she'd gained full control of her dead parents empire, caused it grow and was working on a plan of opening a business for cover; exotic dancing, with more than a few illegal activities inside. Lee hadn't batted an eye at the plan, her possessive and jealous nature that normally would have shown through didn't; all because she loved Katerina, trusted her, and knew the woman would never betray her--the small engagement ring on her finger proof of that.

But Lee had wanted to do something to help, anything to make her future wife's life easier. So she'd followed Stefan's example and applied for the academy, going in with the mindset to help those she could but also be as corrupt as needed to help Katerina. But then Katerina had switched up their plans, had made a choice of her own---she'd broken Lee's heart. There hadn't been a fight, hadn't been begging, Katerina hadn't given her that option. Katerina packed up her things and just left, gone before Lee had come home and nowhere to be found.

Lee had hunted, spent weeks out on the streets and going everywhere she could think the woman would have gone. She'd worked herself into a mess of a depression, anxiety, and malnutrition. What had stopped it was when Damon had committed her for her own safety. She'd spent half a year locked away to get herself back. And when she'd come out she'd never looked back. There was no hatred toward the woman she loves, no vendetta, or ill will. Lee had just moved on with the parts of her life she could.

------

Finding the address of one Katherine Pierce had been difficult, Lee had used every off the book resource she could (Lee may have kept the plan to be slightly corrupt in place) and it had taken almost all day to do so, but she'd done it. Lee had half the mind to stop by the woman's club, 'Katherine's' but the detective had ultimately decided that would be too public for this reunion and the topic they needed to discuss. So she'd waited. And really? Lee probably should have known the address she'd received would be where Katerina had bought. But it still surprised her. It was a large old plantation estate that the two had always dreamed of one day owning, their goal home for their future and however many children they could fill it with.

So she'd given Olivia the barest of explanations on where she was going, muttering something about needing to take the rest of the day off for personal reasons--same to Cragen the same line--and she's out the door.

Lee had parked her silver Jeep outside the closed gate and stepped out. Eyes taking in the property she hadn't driven by in almost a decade--she wonders briefly why Katerina had bought it, how she'd done it too. Sadly it seems she isn't going to be getting inside thought, unless she climbs the brick wall (which she's tempted to do). With a sigh she pulls her phone out to call her darkerweb tech guy, "Hey...I need you to get a cell phone number fo---" The words die on her lips though as she hears the engine of a rather luxurious Lamborghini as it pulls up toward the gates. "Nevermind." She's hanging up the phone as she turns to face the approaching car.

The Salvatore's nerves are high, hands slightly shaking but she's come this far, she won't let her nerves stop her now.

"Katerina," The Bulgarian accent rolling perfectly off her lips even after all these years, "We need to talk..."

#closed starter #storieswrittcn #v:tbd #tw murder #disordered eating tw #tw mental instability #tw mention of drugs #tw mention of violence #tw mental hospital #tw crime

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rosykims · 3 years

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Do u have Thoughts abt when Dinah was on earth?

MANY thoughts ily for asking andy !!!!

dinah is an earthborn shep and still retains her gang/orphan background but i sort of.... ran with it and then ran some more lol 🤷‍♀️ under the cut bc its super long. also cw for child abuse

dinah was born as dinah [REDACTED], and changed her name to shepard when she enlisted. her parents both died during the first contact war, which left her in the foster care system, although a bunch of bad experiences led her to peace out as soon as possible and take her chances on her own. most of the years following that were spent homeless and on the streets, thought she did rely on the kindness of strangers and, in particular, the owner of an old boxing gym who was the closest thing she had to a stable parental figure

anyway early into her teens she started forming ties with the wrong people, and soon caught the eye of the tenth street red's gang leader (gonna call him TSRGL from now on lol since he doesnt have a set name). TSRGL essentially groomed and emotionally manipulated her into his inner circle under the guise of taking her under his wing. dinah already knew the basics of how to fight from shadowing people at the gym, but TSRGL refined it and essentially turned her into his weaponized protege. also fun hc ! kai leng was TSRGL's initial protege, but was abandonned for petty reasons despite leng's unwaverly loyalty. dinah basically took his place lol though she obviously had no idea (the implication is that she would have inevitably been replaced too). he and dinah met briefly before he enlisted but leng has always misplaced his hatred towards her ❤ bc i wanted me3 to feel more personal and i just think leng's character is neat.

so for a few years she basically worked with the gang as the leader's right hand, and also as his most effective hitman. he was pretty blantantly a sociopath but dinah was too afraid and too attached to him to leave, because being with him was the only security/stability she'd ever known. it was only when an alliance commander named olivia rhodes found her – while investigating the gang for their ties to cerberus and offworld Nefariousness – that dinah was finally offered some outside protection and support.

after multiple promises of recieving immunity for her um. many crimes xx. dinah reluctantly agreed to testify against her boss; all his crimes and abuse and his top operatives. vice versa rhodes helped dinah break away from TSRGL's clutches, and in the process the two became quite close despite dinah's obvious trust issues, with dinah eventually seeing her as a sort of mother figure by the end of it. SUPER LONG SIDESTORY SHORT, it all cumulates into dinah um killing TSRGL with a shard of glass and being forced to flee the planet and go into witness protection while the gang actively searched for her🥴🥴🥴 dinah was 18 at this point so her special circumstances allowed for an agreement to be made between her, rhodes and a few top level alliance agents – she would be allowed to enlist under strict probationary terms due to her testimony against the gang basically being essential in fucking up a whole bunch of its key players. so she enlisted, changed her name to shepard (TRSGL was religious and used to use the shepard/flock metaphor a lot. dinah wanted a reminder that being a leader and being a tyrant are two sides of the same coin, and a lesson to make the right choice) and was basically a nuisance to the alliance under the command of rhodes up until rhodes and her squad all get nerfed on akuze, and dinah finally has to fully grow up 💔

and that's what you missed on glee !

#oc: dinah #SORRY THIS WAS SO LONG FJFJDJD i honestly had to use all my remaining braincells to even remember this lore but im glad i did !!!#think ive written some very small pieces about leng and rhodes which might be in dinah's tag somewhere??? mayhaps??#anyway ! thank u for letting me talk abt my gorl ily MWAH 🥰🥰🥰#/ child abuse

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lunasilvermorny · 4 years

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When your worst fear come true.

Winter, 1997.

Talbott was the one that got the call.

He stood up almost immediately and ran out of the room to catch Tonks before she leaves.

“Sorry, mate.” Tonks said before he had a chance to say anything. “I know there’s a call, but I have to be somewhere else.”

“It’s-“

“Nope, I’m off the clock. We’ll talk tomorrow-“

“Listen.” He blocked her way, shooting her an extremely serious look. “The address – it’s Luna’s parents’ house.”

Tonks froze and stared at him for a few seconds, before her mind caught up to the severity of the situation. “You mean-?”

“Her father, probably.”

“Oh, no.” Tonks murmured. “Let’s go.”

They didn’t even try to follow procedure, they just left as fast as possible. Three seconds have past before they stood in front of the house. The front door was open and the Dark Mark was floating in the sky a few meters above the roof.

A high-pitched cry cut through the air, followed by loud sobbing. They didn’t wait any longer and went inside, passed through the long corridor and into the large living room. Luna was sitting on the floor in the middle of the room, cradling the body of her little sister. Another loud cry burst out of her throat, so intense that it cracked mid-way through and turned into choked shrieks. She wasn’t aware of their presence yet.

Tonks turned to look at the body of the old man that was on the ground half a meter from Luna – it was her father. She and Talbott exchanged looks and without saying a word, managed to have an understanding on how to handle the situation.

With slow steps, Talbott headed toward Luna. He lowered himself to her level; his bent knees supported his weight, as he said with a soft voice- “Luna.”

She jumped away from him, not letting go of her little sister and shoved her wand in front of his face. After a moment of hesitation, she realized who she’s looking at and lowered her wand. Her dirty tears were mixed with make-up and smeared on her cheeks. An expression of complete horror filled her face.

“What happened?” he asked with the same soft voice.

Luna turned to look at Tonks that examined her father’s body and then back at Talbott. She struggled to speak without tears making her choke up, but after a few second of breathing, she said in a trembling voice- “Death Eater. Used the killing curse on them. According to…” her breaths became heavier.

Talbott gently patted her shoulder, whispering- “Take your time.” It helped calm her down enough to keep going.

“According to the state… the state of the bodies…” she wiped out the new tears that emerged from her eyes. “It happened about four hours ago, at least.” She closed her eyes and tightened her grip on her little sister. “The Death Eater left a… a…”

“This.” Tonks said and raised a sheet of paper for Talbott to see. “But I don’t think it was intentional, because it looks like some sort of code.”

Luna’s expression turned from horrified to enraged.

“It’s because of me.” She whispered in an accusatory tone.

“Luna-“ Tonks started to say, but Luna cut her off immediately.

“I don’t want to hear anything from you!” Luna roared. “It’s your fault – THE ORDER’S FAULT!”

“No, it’s-“

“What? A coincidence?!” Luna said furiously. “They knew I help you! That’s why they killed her!”

Tonks looked helpless. Tears starting to fill her eyes as well, but she managed to get a hold of her emotions in time. “No, Luna-“

“SHUT UP!” Luna screamed at her from the top of her lungs and Tonks fell silence.

“Maybe you should get that paper to evidence.” Talbott said calmly, his voice was firm but still compassionate.

Tonks seemed like she didn’t want to leave, but after a few more seconds of silence, nodded her head and apparated.

Luna turned to look at Talbott, tears running down her cheeks again. “I did this.” She started trembling.

Talbott wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. “I know how you feel right now.” She was about to say something, but he repeated- “I know.” Their eyes met and were locked in a gaze that expressed the same guilt and pain. They both knew how it feels to lose their family to the Death Eaters.

Luna lowered her head, leaned on his shoulder and started sobbing again. It was a quite cry. A defeated cry.

After Luna managed to calm down again, Talbott asked- “Where are Jana and Lilia?”

“Gone.” Luna said quietly, unintentionally, because she lost a significant amount of her vocal abilities by exhausting her vocal chords. “Not in the house, but all of their belongings are still here.”

“We’ll find them.” Talbott said. “Alive.” He added when he saw the helpless look on her face.

She shook her head. “They’re dead, I know it.”

“No, they’re not.” He insisted. “I will do everything I can, I swear.”

Luna kept shaking her head, but didn’t say anything else. She knew that Talbott is patiently waiting for her to get over the initial shock, so he could bring a unit to examine the crime scene.

“You can’t be on this case.” She said suddenly. “If the moles knew you’re here-“

“Do you really think Death Eaters haven’t came after me already?” he said with a bitter smile. “Trust me, I’ll be fine.”

“If you die in this house too-“

“No one else is going to die.” He reassured her, gently smearing the fresh tears off her cheeks. “We won’t let them get away with it.”

“No,” Luna shook her head and slowly pulled away from him, still holding onto Olivia’s body. “No, it’s my fault. You will die, everyone will die-!”

“Luna.” He said with a firm voice, but the hysteria got the better of her.

“They know. They’re watching me. I have to disappear. That’s the only way.”

“They were after your father regardless.”

“But Olivia!” She whisper-screamed in panic. “They killed her to send a message!”

“We don’t know that yet-“

“I have to go. You have to go!”

He never saw her like this. Even in the worst situations, Luna was always able to keep a calm appearance and stay levelheaded. Losing her entire family in one day was a shock too extreme to handle, even for someone as strong as her.

She quickly pushed herself to her feet, still hanging onto her dead sister, holding her in her arms like an overgrown child. Talbott followed her, but tried to keep a small distance so not to startle her.

“Funeral.” She murmured. “We have to do it quickly.”

“Luna, let’s put Olivia on the couch for a moment-“

Luna turned her back at him and started to walk from the point she was standing to the nearest wall and back.

“We can’t have it out in the open, it has to remain a secret. There’s a muggle-church nearby-“

“Luna, give me Olivia.” Talbott said and tried to remain calm, even though he started to feel the burden of her pain too. Seeing his closest friend in this condition was heartbreaking.

She ignored him. “I… I have a phone. I can call them. I need to find a spot where the magic won’t block the signal.”

“Stop for a second.” He reached out to her, but she dodged his touch.

“Maybe cremation would be the best option-“

“Luna, stop!” he snapped and grabbed her by the wrist. She looked like she’s just woke up from a dream.

“I… I…” she wasn’t able to finish the sentence.

“I know.” He said and very slowly and gently put his arms around Olivia and pulled her from her big sister’s grasp. He laid her down on the couch and got back to Luna, that buried her face in her palms.

“I’ll help with the funeral, we’ll do it as quickly as you want, but first I have to-“

“Yes.” Luna interrupted, lowering her hands and turn to look straight at him. Her gaze was almost soulless. “You need to examine the bodies.”

“I know you probably want to do it yourself, but you’re not in the right state of mind right now.” He pulled her into another embrace. “If we want to catch these fuckers, we have to do it right.”

Luna sighed loudly and wrapped her arms around his torso.

“Fine, I understand.” She said in a monotone voice. “But I’m not leaving them.”

“There’s no need for that.” He said. “You can stay here the whole time, and I’ll be here too. I promise.”

With another long sigh coming out of her mouth, Talbott knew he got through to her.

-----

I know it’s a bit cliche to say that you can split Luna’s life in two - before she lost her family and after she lost her family, but it also very realistic, since a trauma at this scale can change anyone forever.

She was never the same, especially because she lost Olivia as well - the only person she believed could live a happy and normal life out of her entire family.

Also, I know Jacob is absent, it’s because right now he has two potential paths that I haven’t decided on yet - the first where he dies and the second where he survives... You can call him Schrödinger's cat until I pick one. Either way, he wasn’t there when she found the bodies or had the funeral, so in any case he’s irrelevant.

I wrote a bit more about the situation, but I’ll save it for another post!

For those who read the whole thing - I hope you liked it!

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dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram · 3 years

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I’ve always assumed with Nick and Harry that part of the problem is related to Harry’s silence on everything. As you said, Nick has become much more vocal and clearly comfortable since being in a relationship with Mesh. I’m sure you’ve experienced the frustration when you’re friends with somebody who won’t stand up for the people you love, especially when they have the power to make real change.

When you look at Nick’s friend group there are far more working-class people, people of colour, and generally a more diverse group compared to Harry, whose closest friends are predominantly wealthy, privately educated white people. I mean I love Emma Corrin, but she is the stereotypical privately educated girl. Same as Ben Winston, Jeff, even Harris. That doesn’t take away from their achievements, but it’s very relevant to anyone with careers in the arts.

I can imagine for Nick it became tiring to be friends with somebody who won’t stick up for you and your loved ones, who spends most of his time away, and on some level became too dominant in his own career (the dialogue with the girls outside the studio on his last day, funny, but also would be incredibly annoying I’m sure).

Nick seems like a genuine guy, whose really becoming more comfortable with himself and his voice, and seems to value the people around him, as we see through his friendships that have all lasted years and years.

Oh anon - I agree about the last point - I think the fact that Nick's got all these long lasting friendships that he really values is an important point in understanding what's going on between Nick and Harry.

But the rest I disagree with quite fundamentally and in two distinct ways.

The first is that I think you have answered the question 'who are Harry and Nick's friend group' in order to fit with your beliefs, rather than the other way round.

We don't know who Harry's friend group is, or if he has one. There is absolutely zero evidence that he's friends with Harris Reed (all the evidence we have of a relationship is that Harry is a client of Harris's). We're also no idea if Harry is close enough with Emma Corrin (who I personally would not call a girl) to know if she's part of a friend group. But if those two are, then so are Harry L and Antonio - who come from a different background. I've no idea if Harry L. and Harry are friends, but I think it shows how selective you are.

I also think your characterisation of Nick's friends is pretty selective. We do know who Nick's friend group is - and it involves quite a few people with famous surnames.

I think one of the weakness of fandom analysis is about perspective. Often when people say 'I think X person is mad at Y, because of Z', what they mean is I'm mad at Y, because of Z. We saw that in the bizzarre fandom assumptions that other DWD actors didn't like Harry and Olivia's relationship.

I don't think that whatever is going on between Nick and Harry will have much to do with what fans see and respond to about Nick and Harry.

My guess about this ask if that you don't like various things about Harry and are projecting them on to Nick. And I disagree with the assumptions you are making.

I don't think there's any reason to think that Harry didn't stick up for Nick or his loved ones.

I fundamentally disagree that Harry has 'power to make real change'. I think overstating the power of visibility is really common in our society, and is also super dangerous. It understates the importance of collective power for real change, and it also gives great cover to the people who are exercising real power.

I think the idea that what's going on between Nick and Harry corresponds to things that fans see and are bothered about, fundamentally fails to allow them space to have messy lives and feelings.

#Oh anon #there was just so much here I disagreeed with #but I can't get over the idea that Harry has the power to make real change #get a better theory of change!

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alj4890 · 4 years

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And Then I Met You

What happens when the one you thought you were meant for turns out to be meant for someone else?

A\N Choices Fan Fiction with characters from The Royal Romance, Red Carpet Diaries, and Perfect Match

@lxaah11 @alleksa16 @penguininapinktuxedo @blackcoffee85 @stopforamoment @hopelessromantic1352 @krsnlove @annekebbphotography @hopelessromantic1352 . @sunflowergirl05 @desireepow-1986 @greywitchyshots @lilyofchoices @moodyvalentinestories @emceesynonymroll @my-heart-beats-for-ya @aworldoffandoms @ab1901 @lolablackwrites @flyawayboo @i-bloody-love-drake-walker . @trappedinfandoms @kate-mckenzie

A/N This is the final chapter for this storyline. Thank you so much for reading this and enjoying it with me. I will still offer shorts and requests for this pair in this storyline. My next series for Thomas and Amanda will be the, “what if” she never told him about being part of the selection for Liam’s bride. The trip to Lake Tahoe will not result in their hasty marriage. No Lauren. None of what has happened here. If you would like to be tagged in this, please let me know in the comments. The new series will be called, And Then I Left You. Cheesy right? LOL!

Masterlist

Part 27

Lord Thurston Vancouer’s study, Cormery Isle, Cordonia...

Lauren stilled at Tariq's words.

"You," her eyes narrowed, "you are ending our engagement?!"

"Yes." He clasped his hands behind his back. "I have already sent in my statement to the press and--"

"You did what?" She screeched. "How dare you! I should have been the one to do that." She stepped forward and slapped him. "Do you have any idea what this will do to my reputation?"

Tariq's jaw spasmed from the impact. He calmly turned his head back toward her.

Her temper flared even more at his silence. “I gave up my career for you, you bastard!” She raised her hand to slap him again.

His hand shot up, grasping her wrist. “I think this is for the best.”

“You think so?” Her lips curled in a snarl. “You will regret this.”

His expression hardened. “I think I will regret it more if I don’t end things now.”

Lauren yanked her hand away. “You weren’t the only man who wanted me to marry him.” Her chin lifted as she tried her best to look down her nose at him. “I was told by your friend to dump your sorry ass and choose him.”

Tariq merely shrugged causing her vengeful temper to burst.

“It’s Blair isn’t it?” She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t think I’ve been oblivious to the extra time you have been spending with her.”

“She is in a sense a reason behind my decision.” He responded. “But mostly, she opened my eyes to your true nature.”

“You haven’t even begun to see my true nature.” She warned. “But you will. You will see all that I am as I destroy every single thing you love.”

Her smile sent chills down Tariq’s back as did the words that followed.

“I think I will start with Arabella. That will punish not only Neville for what he did to me, but will also hurt your precious Blair. Then I’ll--”

“I don’t think you will have the chance to do anything to my daughters or son.” Lord Thurston’s hard tone cut through her tirade.

Lauren paled when she saw members of the King’s Guard fan out around the study behind Lord Thurston.

“Your time in Cordonia has come to an end.” Thurston told her. “In fact, I believe you will never have an opportunity to hurt anyone ever again.”

Lauren screamed out her denial when the the guards moved to take her into custody.

“You can’t do this! I--” she was silenced by the guards forcing her to the ground to handcuff her.

An Interpol agent stood by, watching it all unfold while reading out the crimes she was accused of.

Arabella and Blair stood silently with Neville in the hallway as Lauren was dragged out, screaming and crying.

“We must inform Lady Olivia and Lady Amanda that it is done.” Thurston said once the front door closed behind the guards..

“I’ll call Olivia.” Arabella ran off, excited to not only see Lauren taken away, but at also recording the whole incident. She knew a few popular reporters in Cordonia who would appreciate this video.

“I’ll make certain that Lady Amanda is told.” Blair went to Tariq and gently squeezed his hand. Her eyes met his. “Are you alright?”

He nodded, a gentle smile formed over her concern for him. “I am now.”

With a whispered promise to talk to him soon, she left the three men alone.

Thurston cleared his throat to break the tense silence and waved toward his study. “I believe we need to clear the air between you two.”

“There is no need.” Tariq replied. He averted his eyes from the two. “It will take time, but I refuse to let what happened ruin my relationship with the Vancouer’s.”

Neville lowered his head. “I don’t know what possessed me to do that to you.” He lifted remorseful eyes to his old friend. “I humbly ask your forgiveness.”

Thurston wisely remained silent as he watched his son and the man he considered a second son. He knew that this was something that only they could resolve.

Tariq shifted from foot to foot. “I won’t insult you by lying that I understand why you did it or that it didn’t hurt to hear that you--” he shook his head. “I consider you and your family as my own. And if things go as I think, then we will be brothers in truth one day.” His shoulders straightened. “You will have my forgiveness, but it will take a long time for you to regain my trust.”

Thurston looked on in approval as the two shook hands, his son expressing once more his sorrow for his actions.

Time would heal these wounds.

***************

The night before in Monterisso, Queen Amalas's private quarters...

"Enough haggling." Olivia grumbled. "I've offered my services the next time you need them." She folded her arms, leveling her basilisk gaze upon the Queen of Spies. "What have you found out about Lauren Benefield?"

Amalas poured them each a glass of wine. "Have a seat."

Olivia eyed the crystal goblet.

"Please." Amalas rolled her eyes. "Why would I make deals if I planned on poisoning you?"

Olivia set the glass down. "I know you didn't poison it. I am here on business, not some social call."

The queen's expression held hints of approval. "And this is why I offered my services to you." She pulled out a small flash drive and tossed it to her. "That, your grace, holds everything."

Olivia quirked an eyebrow. "I assume you kept a copy for yourself."

Amalas silently raised her glass in a toast. "Wouldn't you?"

Olivia's lips twitched into a brief smile. "Naturally."

The Queen pressed a button under her desk. The wall to the left opened, revealing a series of monitors.

Amalas took her own copy of the flash drive and began to pull up all she had discovered on Lauren Benefield.

"It is a good thing you managed to have Lauren quit Lord Hunt's picture.” She began, “ Here's a brief synopsis of what I discovered about her and her associate, Viktor Montmarte.

Olivia pulled up a chair and began reading. Her complexion paled due to some of what she read.

"Kidnapping. Drugs. Sex trafficking. Rape. Extortion." She clicked and saw the small island in the south Pacific that Viktor owned.

"Lauren was not only partaking of these activities." Amalas explained. "She was handpicking underage girls and having them sent to his island," her voice hardened in anger, "under the guise that this was their big break into Hollywood."

Olivia's eyes widened at the satellite images of what was happening around Viktor's estate. "Dear God."

"Interpol along with the FBI are thrilled that I was able to get some concrete evidence." Amalas explained. "I've been working with them the past few months." Her voice turned cold. “Montmarte has friends in very high places that have been helping him stay just under the radar.” Her eyes narrowed. “I knew he couldn’t be doing all this on his own.”

"And when you saw what Lauren was doing to Thomas and Amanda, you were able to get the final piece to the puzzle?" Olivia murmured.

"I didn't know if she was a victim or a partner of Viktor's. Once I tapped into their conversations while she was at Lythikos, I was able to see how deeply involved she was." Amalas enlarged a photo of Lauren smiling as she disembarked off a plane with two teenage girls. "Without her help, Viktor wouldn't have gotten half of the girls he and his friends preferred."

Olivia clicked on another image of Lauren and Viktor at a pool party. The actress was laughing while holding down a young woman in tears so that the producer could forcefully fondle her.

Amalas clicked back to her notes. "I discovered this too." She pulled up a recorded conversation between Viktor and Lauren from when she first began working with Thomas. "Lauren records everything in case she needs to blackmail Viktor and vice versa."

Viktor: How's your seduction going?

Lauren: *laughter* Slow. I have to handle Thomas with kid gloves.

Viktor: If anyone can do it, it's you.

Lauren: I know. *more laughter* Don't worry. I won't forget about you. Once Mr. Hunt is mine, I will give you his grieving wife.

Viktor: *chuckle* I have plans for the duchess.

Lauren: I bet you do.

Viktor: I haven't ever had a noble before. *sinister chuckle* Perhaps I should use the gold rope when I tie her up.

Lauren: Promise me that I get to watch. I can't wait to see her content, happy face devastated.

Viktor: I promise it will be all that you desire, my dear.

Lauren: Maybe we should first force her to watch what I do with Thomas. That will really get her.

Viktor: The more broken they are the more turned on I get. We'll use the rooms with the two-way mirrors. I’ll start by--

Olivia turned it off. Her rage exploded as she stood abruptly from her chair.

"I--" tears sparked her green eyes. "I can't believe--" words failed her as she thought of her closest friend encountering such evil. That she actually had this person in her home as a guest.

Amalas placed a comforting hand on Olivia's shoulder. "Don't worry." She closed the files. "Once America and Europe are finished, these two will be permanently placed in a dank cell."

“They don’t deserve that consideration.” Olivia snapped. “To think of all the lives they have ruined.”

Later that night, Olivia called Liam and Bastien. She explained all that she had discovered, urging them to alert Lord Thurston to guard Arabella and Blair.

Plans were made to have the actress apprehended and held for extradition. Liam promised to call Tariq to go ahead an issue a statement that his engagement was over before the scandal struck.

After talking to them, Olivia called Amanda.

****************

St Orella, Cordonia, the next day...

Thomas was in no state to continue filming. Last night's discovery had nearly broke him. Knowing he would have been the one that brought about harm to Amanda and their life together had devastated him.

He had briefly explained to Holly to have the crew take a few days off while he came to terms with everything.

He then spent the morning on the balcony, staring off at the waves, crashing against the rocky shore.

"How long have you been out here?" Amanda asked once she found him.

"Sunrise." He replied, unable to look directly at her.

She came over and sat next to him. Her hand slipped into his as she turned her attention to the beauty before them.

Thomas couldn't take the simple kindness. He rose abruptly and went to stand over at the balustrade.

"Thomas?" Amanda followed him and wrapped her arms around him from behind. "What's--"

He jerked out of her grasp. "I need to be alone."

Her eyes searched his, causing him to avert his gaze.

"Why?" She asked.

Thomas ran his hands over his face. "You know why."

She leaned against the balustrade, silently observing her husband’s odd behavior.

He couldn't take it. He left her without a word and went directly to their closet.

Amanda followed him, watching as he began to pack.

"What are you doing?" She asked. "We don't leave for the capital until Thursday."

He tried to swallow the lump forming in his throat. "I'm not going to the capital."

"What? Why?" Amanda couldn't take him avoiding her and blocked his path. "We must attend Liam's coronation!"

Thomas stilled when she took his hands. His head dropped, wishing she would order him to leave and never return. He didn’t deserve her.

"Are you angry with me?" She asked.

His head jerked up. "What would I have to be angry with you for?" His expression hardened. "Were you the one to insist on having an actress be around the one you vowed to protect? Were you the one who dismissed all the concerns voiced by those you trust?" His voice cracked. "Did you leave the one you love more than anything alone with such a person nearby to film on location?"

Amanda stepped closer, winding her arms around him. "You didn't know Lauren was that evil. You thought she was a flirt. A woman who got off on destroying people's lives with affairs."

"I should have put two and two together." He snapped, completely disgusted at himself. "I suspected Viktor of predatory behavior with young actresses. I should have seen that his closeness to Lauren meant that they were of like mind."

His temper broke as he thought over all his decisions concerning the actress. “AND I’M THE FOOL WHO BROUGHT THEM INTO OUR HOME!”

His voice echoed in their bedroom. A nervous Hudson knocked on the door, forcing Thomas to quickly apologize for his outburst.

Amanda shushed him, pulling him closer to her. The morning's news had shown the actress being extradited from Cordonia while Viktor was simultaneously being dragged from his Hollywood mansion in the middle of the night. Some other famous people and those in the business and diplomatic world were being held for questioning and arrested.

"It's over." She said softly. "Neither Viktor nor Lauren will ever have a chance to hurt someone again." She pressed a tender kiss to his cheek. "And thankfully, they did not have a chance to hurt us as they had planned."

"If they had, I--" he swallowed at the lump in his throat. "I could have lost you."

Amanda shook her head. "You wouldn't have lost me."

She tried to kiss him. Prove to him that all was as it should be.

He broke away. "I would have. If Lauren had succeeded in making you believe I was having an affair. If Viktor had succeeded in--" his fist clinched, wishing he had them wrapped around the man's throat. "I would have lost you."

She tried to say he wouldn't, yet, she knew deep down that he very well might have. As she imagined how she would be after going through something like that, she realized what would have happened if they had divorced.

"We would have found our way back to each other."

Thomas raised his heartbroken eyes back to hers. "You sound so certain."

"Not only do I love you, I need you." She admitted. "You give me comfort." She tugged on his arms to hold her. "You listen to me, try to help me...I would have needed all that if they had succeeded." She nestled her head in the crook of his neck and shoulder. "Your touch alone helps ease any worry or pain I have."

He clutched her tight, words failing at how she did the same for him. He pressed his lips to her forehead, letting them remain there as he allowed her to ease the tension within him.

******************

Fives Months Later, Hollywood...

Thomas tugged at his bowtie while he waited downstairs. He reviewed the speech he had written for tonight’s premiere of The Earl’s Undoing.

“You’re going to ruin that if you keep pulling at it.”

He looked up and smiled at his wife coming downstairs. Slipping the notecards in his breast pocket, he met her at the bottom step.

“I must admit that I feel those same butterflies that I had the night you took me to the AFI’s awards.” She tilted her head when he kissed her cheek. “Are you sure this is what I should wear tonight?”

Thomas took her hand and twirled her. The rich royal blue gown sparkled in the lamp light. “You look beautiful.”

She pressed a tender kiss to his lips, smiling as he held her close. “You look very handsome.”

“I notice you say that whenever I wear a tuxedo.” He teased. “That is the only reason I keep wearing them to events.”

She laughed, slipping her arm in the bend of his. “We better go. Liam sent a text saying that they would be leaving the hotel in an hour.”

The two made their way to the theater. Cameras flashed as their limo pulled up.

“Ready?” Thomas asked.

“I think so.” She gripped his hand.

“Normally, I would say we forget about it and go straight home.” He stepped out of the car and helped her out. As cameras flashed and cheers were yelled, he leaned down to whisper in her ear. “But I want everyone to see how proud I am that you let me direct your story.”

Cameras once again captured the moment the two looked at one another. The tender smile and obvious love was seen by all along with the sweet kiss the duchess gave her director.

That night, Thomas did not remain dismissive of any question posed about the film. With Amanda by his side, he remained for the most part, almost pleasant with the invasive inquiries of their life together and whether or not they would work on any more projects as they had with The Earl’s Undoing.

Finally making it inside the theater, they joined their friends who each had a hand in helping the couple get here together.

Once they all found their seats, Thomas whispered that he would be right back.

He made his way to the front of the packed auditorium and raised his hand for silence.

“Good evening.” He began. “I want to thank each person who made this movie possible. My gratitude to our friends from Cordonia who traveled here specifically to support us. And how grateful I am for those of you who came out tonight.”

He cleared his throat and waited for the applause to die down. “Let me begin by saying what many directors that have come before me have said. This was a labor of love.” His eyes met Amanda’s. “But unlike the love we feel for our craft, mine was truly one of deep, heartfelt emotion. Without this story, I would have never met the author who ended up becoming the very love of my life.”

Amanda blinked back tears as he gave a brief story of how he had fallen in love with her while working towards making a movie. Beside her, Nadia, Riley, and Addison were sniffing and wiping their own tears. Even Olivia and Holly were slightly affected, both attempting to pretend they weren’t.

“What you will see on the screen is a love letter to my wife, Amanda.” He explained. “Every shot. Every line said in a particular way. Every bit of costume and scenery...it is all from my heart.” He once again met his wife’s unwavering gaze. “For the rest of my life, this movie will be my favorite of all time and all because I met you.”

#Thomas Hunt #choices red carpet diaries #choices thomas hunt #thomas hunt x oc #thomas hunt x amanda #and then I met you

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ourladytamara · 3 years

Text

Gilhearth Manor

This story was commissioned by one of My delightful supporters - thank you! If you like it, consider pitching in as well; all goes towards supporting Me. https://subscribestar.adult/the-demesne ---

CWs: CNC, eldritch shit, Victorian setting, f/f, tentacles, drugs, peer pressure Tamara 2021 | https://twitter.com/_ourladytamara

Beneath the black tiled roof of the Gilhearth Manor hung an odious atmosphere of secrecy. Despite the great many people attending, all mask-clad and dressed in their most fanciful attire, not a single one knew the true purpose of their attendance: least of all, of course, being Olivia Mayweather.

She was a mousy little thing, standing out like a sore thumb. It wasn’t her outfit completely clashing with the otherwise all-black attire of the other attendees, but her wealth: her clothes were conspicuously less tailored and pristine than those of her peers, and her shoes looked positively… worn. Streaks of orange-blonde hair cascaded like wheaten curtains across her alabaster mask, the ceramic imprinted slightly with the form of a human face. Eliza Gilhearth, the Manor’s elusive owner and the evening’s host, was keen on anonymity for her guests – only the most trusted of her confidants were able to see her face-to-face.

Standing across from Olivia, hand clutching a glass of dark port wine, was her dear family friend, Mabel Payes. Payes had always been older – 31 to Olivia’s 22 years – yet the two were practically inseparable. They’d met as coworkers at the Mayweather family bakery – the two bonded quickly over the shared struggle of the busy kitchen, and they’ve been nigh-inseparable since.

Mabel, unlike Olivia, did not still live with her family, instead owning a rather successful textile mill after moving out. Her outfit was impeccable; she bore no hat, merely a painted black mask. If they hadn’t come in together, Olivia would’ve lost her friend in the crowd; unlike herself, Mabel took the dress code at each of the Gilhearth parties very seriously.

“I’m just surprised you decided to come.” Mabel remarks, swirling the drink around in her hand. “Aren’t you more of the… reading sort?”

Olivia grins and takes a sip of her gin and tonic. “Well, usually – whenever mother’s not being so obtuse. This was the best way to get out of the house – and get on her nerves at the same time.”

“She’s not the type for parties?” Mabel continues.

“Not the type to let me do much of anything, parties least of all – especially not the kind Madame Gilhearth throws.”

Both women giggle to one another before the slam of a door grabs their attention. At the top of the flight of stairs overlooking the foyer was Eliza Gilhearth, in the flesh – though unmistakably absent her normal grandeur. Where typically sat neatly-braided buns, her silvery-black hair now hung limp and lifeless around her head, draping her like the equally-flowing black bathrobe that covered her body. Seeing her without her hair done was odd, but to be seen without her dress was downright cause for concern.

“Attention, guests, a few more moments until the main halls will be opened. Please have your masks secured – we will be checking at the door. Thank you.”

And with that, she was off – back through the doors which she’d appeared and which slammed shut in an instant.

Olivia looked at Mabel and Mabel look right back, their eyes locking from the holes in their masks. Typically, Eliza reveled in her own grandeur and the splendor of her parties, but tonight she seemed rather hurried. What was on her mind?

“That was…” Olivia begins, confusion on her tongue.

“Odd?” Mabel finishes, glancing around the room at the other patrons. While some seemed equally perplexed, the others seemingly bought it as part of the show; within seconds, their raucous conversations once again fill the quiet room.

“Perhaps there’s something wrong?” Olivia continues, glancing up at the great door above, “Do you think it’s related to…”

“Oh, not at all – the Gilhearths have entirely too much riding on their reputation.”

In the past, Eliza had spoken in whispered tones with her more trusted guests. They were, of course, not as trustworthy as she’d hoped, and soon word of her plans got around. She was an occultist, a dedicated one at that, and despite her hesitancy to share it with anyone save for her closest companions, it was evident to almost everyone who regularly attended her parties. In recent months, however, she’d gotten far more devoted; many nights, you could see her bedroom lamp on into the earliest hours of the morning. She was on the verge of something important, apparently, but few knew what – and even fewer of those who did know could even comprehend it.

With a deep, hollow groan, the great door at the top of the foyer stairs creaks open.

“...do they?”

Guests filter upstairs to be greeted to another world. Whatever had happened in between this party and the last had been… drastic, to say the least. Once the Gilhearth Manor had been decorated in the most impeccable midcentury Victorian style; it now seemed the work of an utterly deranged person. Every wall was covered with white chalk marks and paint, forming vast sigils, epithets, and mathematical formulas over every surface; some even ran onto the floor or nearby furniture. Gone were the fine wooden furnishings of before, in their place, floor cushions, beds, mats – and most enticing of all, hookahs and opium pipes, the coals still burning gently.

All around the room, those who had already entered before the pair of women had begun enjoying themselves to the fullest. Smoke lingered around every ceiling, bringing Olivia to cough as she entered the main hall with Mabel.

“...t-this is certainly more than I was expecting for a first time.” the girl in white remarked, standing out amidst the sea of black and red beside her. “Is it usually so… flagrant?”

“Not normally.” Mabel remarks, gazing curiously at a woman in the crowd as she hiked her skirt up a bit. “I guess Eliza really is feeling off.”

From behind, a pair of guests bump into the two women. It was a second or two of contact at most, and even despite her relative innocence, Olivia still felt the rigid outline of a cock beneath the black dress of the more elaborately-dressed of the pair. She apologizes in half-words, led off elsewhere hand-in-hand with her more masculine partner. Olivia shivers.

“I… can’t say it’s entirely unwelcome.” Olivia remarks, flush in the cheeks as she turns to an equally-flustered Mabel.

“Oh, quite welcome, indeed…”

The two filter through the crowd, exploring the museum of pleasures and debauchery that the Gilhearth Manor had become. The main hall was arranged as a two-layer loop; one entered into a large ballroom dominated by a staircase, the upstairs landing a maze of locked doors and dimmed lights. At the center of it was the most curious of the various shapes painted haphazardly across the walls: a rectangle. Bare and imposing, it stands out, conspicuously plain in a sea of dizzying murals of shapes and symbols; where the other paint had been white, though, this rectangle sat against the wooden walls a heavy, eye-grabbing black.

Every step forward seems to reveal a new height of ecstasy and depth of moral abandon. On the first floor, things seemed relatively tame, at least beneath the clouds of hash and opium; touching, feeling, rolling and writhing on the luxuriant couches and pillows. Upstairs, where the air was heady, things slip beyond the pale far more quickly than either woman is prepared for. Women – and the sparse man – sit, and more often lay, nude, bathing in warm lamplight and clearly delighting in each others’ bodies regardless of the wandering eye of passers-by. Strangest, however, was the fact that not a single one discarded their mask, even when entirely naked.

Just as Olivia turned away from such a display, a woman sat amidst the many nude figures blew a thick, pungent cloud of hash smoke into their faces. Both women coughed, turning away from it and towards the stairway once again. It was far too… blatant, for their tastes, too adventurous for their fluttering hearts. That’d have to come another time, perhaps; though neither of them could deny that they were beginning to loosen up.

The smoke clung to the white linen dress shirt Olivia wore, like a mask of its own. Eugh – mother would surely be asking about the stench later.

“T-This is a bit…” Olivia coos, looking up at Eliza through her mask.

“Much for you?” Mabel injects, finishing her words. “I must admit I’m a little captivated, personally.”

“N-No, it’s not… too much, it’s just so sudden. I was expecting a bit more of an… introduction to things, wouldn’t you agree?” responds the sheepish girl behind the white mask.

Piercing the din of the crowd was the unmistakable sound of a woman chuckling. It stuck out like a red-hot iron, cutting through the mental noise as if it were butter. Every step they took down the stairs it seemed to follow them, echoing around the insides of their head in a way unique among the cacophony.

“Headed out so soon, girls?”

...Eliza?

The two of them whipped around only to witness the elusive hostess stroll right past them in a state of undress. Black and red paint ran down her body in streaks, as if she had dumped the stuff onto her head, finishing it off with layers upon layers of white writing; pondering it, Olivia noticed some looked impossible to write with one’s own hands.

“P-Pardon us, Madame Gilhearth!” both girls reply, almost in unison. Paint from Eliza’s body smears against their clothing, yet the text remains impeccable. “We-w…”

“Were leaving, hm? A little too exciting?”

“Not at all!” Mabel replies, now following just behind the imposing woman along with Olivia. “We were off to fetch some -”

“Oh, you won’t need drink for much longer, my dearest guest,” Eliza replies, now completely looking away from them and out into the lower level of the hall, “for the night’s greatest pleasure is about to begin.”

She gestures out into the hall, where the lamps have been lowered to an eerie, reddish glow. Everyone is as starkly naked as she is, yet all retain their masks, an anonymous sea of bodies; each coalesced until they formed a loose circle around the stairs. Some sat, some stood, and even more of them idly touched and explored the bodies of themselves and each other. Limbs, organs, and salacious fingers dart in and out of the low light like lightning bugs.

Eliza turns from the hall to the black border drawn upon the top of the stairwell.

“For the past several months, dears, I’ve been searching for something.” Eliza’s voice rises, as she begins to adress not only the girls but the guests on the whole. “Tonight is the grand culmination of everything I’ve found.”

She returns her gaze to Olivia and Mabel, who are now trembling. “I must say, though, you’re a bit overdressed.”

Their cheeks turn red beneath their masks. This was far beyond what they’d expected – but from the position on the stairway, so many eyes were on them, more than they’d ever had in their lives. It was a different, new kind of exciting, an intoxicating rush that they’d missed beneath the tantalizing lure of drugs and drink. A taste of something better – both women were intrigued.

“...o-oh.”

Olivia turns to Mabel and Mabel to Olivia. They face one another wordlessly for a moment, before the prying eyes of the crowd wrench them from their modesty. Hands slide up Olivia’s dress – she unfastens her bra. Whether by the smoke in the air, the unfettering excitement of the crowd and the new, strange situation, or by some fault in the girl’s mind alone, she obeys the courteously-worded command. Every motion is accompanied by a faster and faster fluttering in her heart, and soon, Olivia stands nude, beside a half-dressed Mabel who’d followed her lead.

“Beautiful.” Eliza whispers, smiling as she returns to address the room in full. “A most welcome addition to our ritual, wouldn’t you say?”

In near-unison the guests reply in a mixture of awe, laughter, and applause.

“...ritual?” Mabel asks, cheeks bright red as she discards her shirt to the ground. Olivia blinks sheepishly. Eliza says nothing at all, allowing the crowd to fill her mouth with words.

“The ritual!” they say, sing, whisper, yell, a symphony of a myriad voices; the way the uncanniness mixes with the excitement stir alien feelings inside the two girls, yet ones they most certainly welcomed.

“Indeed,” Eliza continues, “the culmination of so much searching. So much work, and truly dreadful amounts of money, and I’ve brought it all to here.”

She steps back and gestures at the enormous painted border that sits on the wall behind her.

“NHA YYDROTH.” she chants, voice gurgling in a bizarre, alien manner.

“NHA YYDROTH!” the crowd replies.

Olivia and Mabel locked eyes beneath their masks again. Inside the mind of the girl in white, there was a storm raging. Hot winds of excitement swept up the cold chill of fear and precipitated it as a strange tingling in all of her limbs. This wasn’t right; none of this was right. Such a foolish, easily-pressured little tart she’d been, coming to parties without mother’s…

“N-Nha Yydroth?” Mabel chants, her voice wavering yet still dripping with some kind of enthusiasm. Eliza smiles.

“Exactly – to the floor with you, now.” the paint-slicked woman remarks, gesturing both the women down and the rest of the stragglers from upstairs.

All filter down to the great central hall, Olivia and Mabel finding a spot at the edge of the group. They sit beside a couple, two women, one laying in the embrace of the other as she traced ginger hands over breasts, thighs, and soft skin. The dim light casts strange shadows, adding an alluring flush to the skin of all in attendance – and Mabel was no exception.

Olivia never looked at her that way. They’d seen each other naked countless times; the black-masked woman was pear-shaped, bottom-heavy, with small, perky breasts and an impressive width to her hips and bottom; Olivia herself was far more petite, a cute little cock positioned between her thin, yet supple thighs. Their bodies had been the subject of playful memories in the past, but now a new closeness rubbed up in the space between them. It felt like the softest silk, as if a layer of decadent clothing neither woman had realized existed before.

“With the guests gathered,” Eliza speaks, her voice echoing around the room yet equally clear in the minds of all, “the ritual may proceed.”

Almost on cue, the guests turn to one another. Delayed as it was, Olivia meets Mabel’s gaze, too.

“I see you bear the masks – good. Beneath them, through Yydroth’s gaze, will prove our most sacred unity – and then join Her in Her starry lair. Keep your masks attached”

“Nha Yydroth!” the crowd chant, the two women’s voices among them; it was impossible to know if even a plurality of those in attendance understood Eliza’s motives or desires, but it was highly likely to not be the case.

“...what’s that mean, anyways?” Olivia whispers beneath her mask to Mabel. “Some… house tradition?”

“No clue.”

That was the cue for the crowd; and thus began the night’s true purpose. For now, there were no more words for Eliza to say, her work for the time being fulfilled. The portal – this magnificent gift to Yydroth – would have its hunger for passion slaked in full.

Skin clasps skin, pressing deeper, harder; the wet and lewd sounds soon drown out the previous homely atmosphere of gossiping, chit-chatty voices. There is no more talk, every mouth stuffed full with the lips and tongue of another. Olivia, having scarcely thought of a relationship so intimate, was taken aback – but not Mabel.

The larger girl in the black mask regards the smaller, alabaster-clad one beside her with hungry eyes. Just beside the two were a couple, now mounting one another enthusiastically; both were women, and yet the one on the bottom bore a cock thicker and heavier-looking than any Olivia would’ve dreamed of. On the other side, a woman mounted on her husband’s face – with another woman busy bouncing on his cock.

Mabel pins Olivia by her arms, pressing down onto her body in a way just playful enough not to startle the girl while clearly conveying the woman’s needs.

“I know I’ve not said anything before, Liv,” Mabel whispers beneath the din of sex, pinning Olivia to the ground with her weight, “but I must admit you’re beyond gorgeous.”

The smaller woman’s words were stolen out of her mouth. “M-Mabel? Here??” she asks, cheeks red enough to spill through the eye holes in her mask. Whatever hesitance she bore was reflexive; both burned inside with the same desire that Eliza had unlocked inside them. Eyes, here just as before, regarded them hungrily, eagerly. Olivia could tell that more than a few pairs of them were trained on her pert little cock sticking out from between Mabel’s supple thighs.

“Where else? It’s the truth – even back at the bakery I was taking peeks at your cute little ass,” Mabel continues, smiling as she presses Olivia even further down into the floor, “and I always knew I liked what I saw.”

Olivia writhes, moaning a bit as the weight of soft thighs press further down against her cock. Her sounds join the chorus; it seems practically every other voice in the room is now tuned together with the same, decadent feeling, an air of release and ecstasy stronger around them than Mabel’s hands around Olivia’s wrists.

So many eyes on them – Olivia could feel their stares intensify, Mabel adjusting herself to perfectly straddle the hips of the girl beneath. The cute little cock between Olivia’s thighs sticks straight up into the air, throbbing up against Mabel’s cunt as their well-trimmed pubes begin to mingle.

Olivia has no words. She knows exactly what she wants and knows Mabel can see it; she’s practically drooling, forgetting herself and forgetting the night. With a huff, and a nod, she presses her twitching member into the waiting orifice, Mabel resting back down onto her partner’s body with a sigh.

The lights flicker – but Olivia’s eyes remain closed in bliss. Mabel leans forward to kiss her newfound partner, equally blind to the sudden commotion in the air above. A chill, alien and forceful; wherever it was emanating from, it didn’t matter – not here, not in this moment.

Moans and supple, fleshy claps coat a rolling boil of voices beginning to call out in confusion. Unknown to both Olivia and Mabel, the section of wall bounded by paint at the head of the stairs had begun to fall away – and Eliza stood at its head, her nude body swaying and gesticulating like a woman mad. Syllables spilled out of her lips like water in the Manor’s opulent garden fountains, to the confusion and horror – yet fascination and titilation – of the crowd of addled, excited bodies.

“Kha! Iath nyu vara kha-va!” she chants, her voice just barely rising above the chorus of ecstasy around her. “Ma xura cala-al n’varah! NHA YYDROTH!”

“ɴʜᴀ ʏʏᴅʀᴏᴛʜ.”

The voice comes from no one. There is no sound; it simply resonates inside the minds of all in attendance. The lights blink out. Mabel and Olivia’s bond is snapped like a frayed rubber band.

“Whuh?” Mabel stammers, strands of mixed saliva draping down her chin as she raises her head. Those not utterly lost in the trance of lovemaking were also confused, evidently; as the chasm behind the wall continued to fall away, more and more eyes found their way to Eliza – to… Yydroth..?

Yydroth. It was her – even those entirely oblivious to the existence of such a being knew it. The ritual had succeeded, thanks in part to the dutiful participation of Olivia and Mabel, and the Gate had drawn its first, frigid breath of the air of Earth – and it liked what it found.

“Behold, dearest guests and disciples – a place of true belonging.”

Olivia cranes her head up and begins to pant. Her eyes are transfixed, as are most pairs in the room; it’s as if they’re in a trance, empty marbles gazing out of a myriad masks. Whispers filter out of the onyx gateway as it rapidly begins to fill with dazzling white stars – and lurid shapes of pink and red.

“ɴʜᴀ ʜʏʟᴀ ᴠᴜ ᴋʜᴀ ᴍʏʏʜᴀ... ᴜᴀʀ.”

A wide smile dominates Eliza’s paint-soaked face. With a dramatic turn, she extends her arms to the void. Her feet lift off the ground.

“Come and see.”

Her voice is booming and not quite her own. A twinge of metal, something sinister; whatever invisible limb of Yydroth held her in the air was speaking through her, too. Despite the strangeness and the rising fear amongst the onlookers, few of the transfixed guests – Olivia and Mabel especially – could think of anything they’d want more.

Sure, it was all happening a bit fast – Olivia hadn’t even the time to process her first orgasm shared with another woman before the Gate had pried itself open – but the sweetness of the words whispered in the ears of everyone and no one was undeniable.

“ᴋʜᴀ ᴠᴜʀᴀ ʏʏ ʟᴀ ᴊᴀ ᴀᴠᴀʜ ᴍᴀʀ…” Whatever it meant, it rang clear as a bell in their minds, alluring the eyes of those not already transfixed upon stairs – upon Yydroth and her more perfect reality. Some couldn’t help themselves and rose quite easily; others were seemingly coaxed from their lusting on the floor to their feet by other means – one way or another, women and men began to filter towards the stairs – and the floating Eliza – before them.

Just beyond the veil of blackness was something beyond comprehension. Yydroth and her realm – perhaps the two were not so distinct? - were unlike anything the guests had ever experienced. To those still leering from a night full of hash and opium, it was the escalation they’d come to expect from the Gilhearth parties, and no doubt was left that their whims were suitably indulged. The portal, Yydroth – a parlor trick.

But to Mabel, and especially to the starry-eyed Olivia, it was something from a dream.

They clambered up the steps, captivated by that which awaited them just beyond the painted-on doorway. Yydroth’s lair was a realm of soft, indescribable shapes; they were pearlescent, perhaps pinkish, in color, cascading around and across every surface – and things that only felt like surfaces. Everything was lit from some unseen source in a dim, yet welcoming yellow glow. Soft, low humming filled their ears and filled their minds as they stumbled across the threshold into something unreal.

“...M-Mabel.”

Olivia turns to face her newfound partner, only just then realizing that they’d been walking hand in hand. All around them, guests seem overtaken by some unseen pleasure; it comes to them in waves, twitching at first before the nude bodies begin to spasm, writhe, and drool upon the marblesque pseudofloor.

“I-Is this…”

“Of course it is.” Mabel’s words are hurried and firm. She knows the question, of course, the last vestiges of their shared hesitation. No place for that – not here, not anymore. Instead, she pulls Olivia close and wraps herself in her embrace; the pleasure of Yydroth takes them both soon after, crawling up their spines like static.

Both women writhe and press themselves together, seemingly boundless and timeless in the floating maze of pearly decadence. Their bodies are hot, sticky, pulsating; with every heartbeat they push further together, fall deeper into the ecstasy that was their partner – the ecstasy that was Yydroth. Moans, screams, howls – they echoed through the abalone void like the chorus of a million angels.

Olivia presses her masked face up to Mabel’s, looking deep into the other woman’s eyes. Of course, being hand-fashioned, it bore a rather thin headband – unsuited to the passion that now howled between the two bodies, a passion which the Gilhearth’s approved masks had accounted for. Mabel’s nails, decadently done-up and painted, were just long enough to snip them during a particularly frantic clutch against Olivia’s back.

A tug, and her mask falls away – the whole world with it.

She sees unimpaired.

There were no pearlescent curves and smooth edifices of warmth. None at all – in their stead were dripping, lurid tendrils and pulsating surfaces of what looked to be soaked, vibrating meat. The entire space was an innard, a fleshy sac – and the invisible pleasure of Yydroth was revealed to be the spasming of countless, equally-fleshy appendages, worming their ways in and out of the orifices of everyone inside the great, quivering chamber – and Olivia was one of them.

Fleshy things wound themselves in and out of her asshole, probing her, spearing her; even more wound around her cock, her petite breasts, wrists, ankles; she was being violated by the visible-invisible things from every conceivable angle. Olivia was not alone, however; an almost equal number of the slick, slimy things coated everyone in the chamber, wrapped them up the way she’d been – and some look even further along, the tendrils beginning to slide into mouths and ears…

Olivia shrieks. She desperately pulls away from the frightened and clueless Mabel, who clutches longingly at her the instant she’s gone; whether or not she knew the truth as Olivia did mattered little, for her actions serve Yydroth all the same. Olivia attempts to kick away from the tendrils on her legs, but is pinned too close to Mabel to get leverage. With a shove, she pushes the other girl away, clamboring to the squishy, disgustingly-warm floor beneath.

It was all a mistake. She’d forgotten her hesitance, let her guard down; still her mind pulsates with some alien need, yet now her animal reflex is too strong to ignore. Yydroth grumbles, roars – without the mask, it seems she speaks clearly, and what once hid within songs of decadence now revealed itself to be the churning of a deep and powerful maw.

So many bodies. Mabel was still behind, in the morass of sex and hidden horror, but freedom was so close. Olivia could see the manor just beyond the nearest crowd of bodies, mere inches above their heads – and standing above them is the dripping, scowling face of Eliza Gilhearth.

The girl’s taken aback just enough for the tendrils to reaffirm their grip on her ankle. Eliza’s grimace turns to a sickening smile, and with a hand, she parts the still-moving crowd.

“Oh, there’s nowhere to go now, dearest,” Eliza coos, a thick tendril drooping from her cunt and running back into the depths of the cavern, “for our long evening is truly just beginning.”

Olivia screams just wide enough for her mouth to be filled with Yydroth’s pleasure.

#stories

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tw-anchor · 4 years

Text

01. Lycanthropy

Anchor

Stiles Stilinski x Original Character (Reader)

Episode: 1x01; Wolf Moon

Word Count: 7,177

Warning(s): Mature language, dead body

Author’s Note: Welcome to the first chapter of Anchor. I hope you enjoy this rewrite of Teen Wolf and my original character, Olivia. Reblog and like!

Masterlist in Profile Description

Olivia shuffled around in her closet, trying to find the perfect scarf that went along with her outfit. Today was the first day back to school after winter break and, according to Lydia, they had to look better than any of the other girls that went to their school. Personally, Olivia didn’t see the big deal in trying to stay at the top of the social food chain at Beacon High, but she definitely didn’t want to upset her cousin. So, she quickly grabbed a plaid scarf and walked out of her closet, setting it on her bed to put on after she styled her hair.

She had already curled her brunette locks into waves and was wrapping the scarf around her neck when Lydia walked into her room, hardly bothering to knock on the door.

“You’re going with the green puffer vest?” Lydia asked, disapproval heavy in her voice.

Olivia fluffed her curls so they laid nicely against her vest. “I like it.”

Lydia rolled her eyes. “Normally it would be fine, but it’s the first day back, Liv,” she sighed. “How are you going to keep your spot on top if you’re wearing something so simple?”

“Frankly, Lyds, I couldn’t care less about the people we hang out with, except for Danny and Jackson,” Olivia confessed, slinging her leather satchel over her shoulders while making sure she had everything she needed for a day at school. She turned her cobalt-blue eyes to her cousin. “And I know you don’t, either.”

“I’m not dignifying that with a response,” Lydia huffed, whipping around to leave Olivia’s bedroom. “Let’s go.”

By the time they were both sliding into Lydia’s Beetle, their little argument was over.

“What classes are you taking this semester?” Olivia asked as Lydia pulled out of their driveway and started toward the high school.

“The usual,” Lydia shrugged. “Unfortunately, Mandarin was full, so I settled with Latin.”

Olivia knew her cousin was a genius but she wondered if Lydia ever got exhausted trying to learn as much as she could. Olivia did—she usually grew tired of school around the end of each semester—but Lydia kept going and going. It made sense, though, Lydia loved to be smarter than everyone around her.

“What about you?”

Olivia cleared her throat, suddenly self-conscious about the classes she was taking. “I got into Calculus,” she said quietly. “World History II, Chem…Advanced Spanish.”

“Advanced Spanish?” Lydia looked away from the road for a brief second to make sure she heard Olivia right. “I thought you only had to do two classes for Spanish. Why didn’t you choose a different language?”

“I don’t know,” Olivia shrugged.

The truth was, Olivia simply wanted to keep taking Spanish classes. When her cousins, Derek and Laura, checked in on her over winter break, they mentioned that their family was fluent in Spanish. Olivia wasn’t quite at that level yet and she wanted to make that side of her family proud, even if most of them were dead. She had a duty to the Hale name, even if she didn’t use it.

Lydia hummed at Olivia’s response, looking like she didn’t quite approve. “You should take Latin next year, then.”

Olivia stared out her window, mentally praising the fact that they had arrived at school. She loved Lydia but she acted like an overbearing mother sometimes. “Sure.”

Lydia parked in the empty spot that no one dared to leave their car, and they both exited the vehicle. After checking her phone, Lydia turned to Olivia, “Jackson and Danny are already in the building.”

“Let’s go then.”

Stiles paced impatiently, his feet moving his body back-and-forth over two squares of sidewalk in front of the school, as he waited for Scott. His best friend had sent him a concerning message when he woke up, and Stiles was eager to see the injury Scott had sustained.

The night before, Stiles’ dad, Sheriff Noah Stilinski, had gotten a call and—of course—Stiles overheard what it was about. He was eager for an adventure and half a dead body in the preserve seemed like something worthwhile. Needing his partner in crime, Stiles retrieved Scott from his house and they both set out to the preserve.

All was going well until they came upon police officers and their cadaver dogs. While Scott hid, Stiles was caught by his father and forced to go home, leaving Scott all by himself. According to Scott’s message, he was almost trampled by a herd of deer and bitten by some kind of animal.

Now, Scott was taking forever to get to school and Stiles was feeling guilty and a little excited.

Finally, Stiles saw Scott ride his bike through the parking lot to the bike rack. After confronting the school’s biggest jackass—Jackson Whittemore—Scott made his way over to Stiles.

“Finally!” Stiles exclaimed, waving his hands in exasperation. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Scott shrugged lightly. “I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, Stiles.”

“Okay,” Stiles quickly moved on, bouncing. “Let’s see this thing.”

Scott sighed quietly and shrugged his backpack off his shoulders, lifting his gray t-shirt to show Stiles the piece of gauze he messily taped to his side. Stiles raised his eyebrows and cooed, reaching out to touch the bandage.

Scott hissed and slapped his hand away.

“Okay, okay,” Stiles went back to clutching the straps of his backpack while Scott pulled his shirt back down. “So, what bit you?”

Scott shrugged his backpack on and started walking up the sidewalk to school. “It was too dark to see much but I’m pretty sure it was a wolf.”

Stiles raised his eyebrows in disbelief and followed him. “A wolf bit you?”

Scott nodded.

Shaking his head, Stiles shot down Scott’s claim, “No, not a chance.”

“I heard a wolf howling.”

There was no way Scott was bitten by a wolf because Stiles knew no wolves were living in Beacon Hills—or California, for that matter. He knew way too much about the ecosystems of their home state thanks to the AP Environmental Science he took the year before.

“No, you didn’t,” Stiles insisted.

“What do you mean, no I didn’t?” Scott asked, becoming frustrated. “How do you know what I heard?”

Stiles scoffed and abruptly turned around, stopping Scott in his tracks. “Because California doesn’t have wolves, okay? Not in, like, sixty years.”

Scott was surprised. “Really?”

“Yes, really!” Stiles confirmed. “There are no wolves in California.”

“All right,” Scott shook his head, still maintaining that it was a wolf that bit him. He didn’t care what Stiles said. “Well, if you don’t believe me about the wolf then you’re definitely not gonna believe me when I tell you I found the body.”

Stiles flailed spastically, his shoulders shrugging sharply as he reached out to grab Scott’s shoulders. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he asked excitedly.

“No, man, I wish. I’m gonna have nightmares for a month,” Scott shuddered, not wanting to think about the gruesome sight he witnessed the night before.

Stiles laughed in disbelief. “Oh, God, that is so fucking awesome!” he cheered. “I mean this is seriously gonna be the best thing that’s happened to this town since—”

He trailed off, his attention being pulled by the two girls walking up the sidewalk to head into school, chatting quietly together.

“—since the birth of Olivia Martin!” he declared as the girl of his dreams walked past him with her cousin at her side. “Hey, Olivia, you look…like you’re gonna ignore me.”

Stiles swore that it may have been the luckiest day of his life because, as she passed him, Olivia sent him a small smile before giving her attention back to Lydia.

“Oh, my God,” he breathed, almost swooning, as he watched Olivia walk into the school. He turned back to Scott, who was just as shocked. “Did that just happen?”

“Yeah, Olivia Martin just smiled at you,” Scott grinned as the first bell of the morning went off.

Stiles jumped happily, ignoring the annoyed looks of the students around him. “This is the best day ever.”

Scott chuckled and rolled his eyes as he and Stiles went with the herd of students, walking into school. They separated to go to their lockers and then met back up to head to their shared AP English class that Scott somehow tested into.

As they walked into Mr. Thomas’ classroom, Stiles stopped in his tracks, making Scott bump into his back. There, in the aisle closest to the wall of windows, was Olivia Martin.

Seeing that there was only one more seat left in the aisle and it was right behind Olivia, Stiles rushed to the seat, almost pushing another guy out of the way. He almost knocked the desk over as he slid into the seat but he righted himself, chuckling nervously when Scott rolled his eyes at him.

He could have pinched himself, though, because seconds after he sat down, Scott sat in the empty seat right next to Olivia.

At least I’m close to her, he thought to himself.

“As you all know,” Mr. Thomas spoke from the front of the classroom, a dry-erase marker held firmly in his hand as he wrote on the board. “there indeed was a body found in the woods last night.”

Scott turned to look at Stiles with raised eyebrows; Stiles winked at him, chuckling under his breath.

“And I am sure your eager little minds are coming up with various macabre scenarios as to what happened,” Mr. Thomas continued. “but I am here to tell you that the police have a suspect in custody—”

Stiles shook his head at Scott’s curious look. As far as he was aware—and he was—his dad hadn’t brought in a suspect.

“—which means you can give your undivided attention to the syllabus which is on your desk,” Mr. Thomas capped his marker and turned around, picking up a pack of papers that had previously been laying on his desk. “outlining this semester.”

Most of the students groaned in contempt but obediently set to read their syllabus to see what their teacher had in store to them.

Out of the corner of Stiles’ eye, he saw Scott frantically looking around the room but he ignored him for the moment, reaching up to tap Olivia on her vest-covered shoulder.

Olivia turned around and Stiles paused, forgetting what he was going to ask her when his whiskey-colored eyes met her cobalt-blue ones.

Olivia raised an impatient eyebrow, prompting Stiles to speak.

“Oh, um, do you have a pen I can borrow?” he asked quietly, his voice shaking slightly.

A ladies man, he was not.

Olivia’s eyes swept his face, her lips quirking slightly, and fell on his desk where a black pen was already waiting to be used.

“R-Right,” Stiles could have punched himself. He was such an idiot. “It doesn’t work anymore. That’s—that’s why I’m asking you for a pen. Yeah.”

Olivia hummed amusement lighting up her face, and turned around, reaching for her satchel on the floor. She pulled out a blue pen and faced Stiles again, holding it out for him.

“There you go,” she said kindly. “You can keep it.”

“Oh, are you sure?” Stiles was kind of hoping she wanted it back so he could talk to her again. “I mean, I can give it back.”

“No, it’s fine,” she assured him. “Let’s hope this one works for you.”

Stiles chuckled awkwardly. “Yeah, hopefully. Thanks, Olivia.”

“No problem, Stiles.”

As Olivia turned back around to read the rest of her syllabus, Stiles stared at the back of her head in shock. Olivia Martin knew his name? Olivia Martin knew who he was?

Like I said, he thought, best day ever.

Stiles shook his head to clear his thoughts and focused back on his syllabus just as the classroom door opened. The vice-principal walked into the room, a girl his age following him.

“Class, this is our new student, Allison Argent,” the vice-principal gestured to the girl who smiled shyly. “Please do your best to make her feel welcome.”

Allison walked to the side of the classroom where Stiles, Scott, and Olivia were sitting, taking the last empty seat behind Scott. Stiles nodded at her in greeting and watched as Scott handed her a pen with a smitten look on his face.

“Thanks,” Allison whispered with a smile.

Scott grinned and caught the eye of Stiles, rolling his eyes as his best friend gave him a thumb’s up.

Mr. Thomas cleared his throat. “We’ll begin with Kafka’s Metamorphosis on page one hundred and thirty-three.”

Ollie: We need to talk.

Olivia bit her lip as she texted Derek, hoping that he would have time for a phone call. He currently lived in New York but he was a couple of hours ahead of her, so she was pretty sure that he was done with work for the day.

She pressed her phone into her pocket, not expecting an answer right away, and focused back on the conversation she was having with Lydia.

“So, you’ve met the new girl?”

Lydia was talking about Allison Argent, the newest student of Beacon High. Olivia had her English class with Allison but she wasn’t exactly looking forward to meeting her. Her last name was Argent, after all.

The Argents were a notorious family that hunted supernatural creatures. Although Olivia wasn’t supernatural herself, her father was and that made her a target. Her mother was human, too, and look where she ended up. Killed just because she associated with someone who was a werewolf.

She didn’t know if Allison was a hunter like the rest of her family, but if she wasn’t and Olivia made friends with her, was it worth the risk? Did she want another target on her back?

“Not yet,” Olivia said finally, shaking her head.

Lydia hummed, looking down the hall where Allison was at her locker. “Well, I like her outfit. Let’s go talk to her.”

Olivia wanted to object but she knew that Lydia would talk to Allison anyway. She followed her cousin down the hall, knowing that she’d meet Allison sooner or later—especially if Lydia was so determined to talk to her.

“That jacket is absolutely killer,” Lydia announced their presence to Allison, who was looking down the hallway. Olivia followed her gaze, seeing that the new girl was staring in the direction of Stiles Stilinski and Scott McCall. “where’d you get it?”

“Thanks,” Allison smiled shyly. “My mom was a buyer for a boutique back in San Francisco.”

“And you are our new best friend,” Lydia declared, pointing slyly at her. “I’m Lydia and this is my cousin, Liv.”

Olivia wanted to grimace and scold Lydia for putting Allison’s attention on her, but she kept her face smooth and clear of emotion. She wasn’t one to put her emotions on her sleeve—other than her happiness—and if Allison was a hunter, she wanted to show no weaknesses.

“Hey,” she greeted Allison politely. “We have English together.”

Allison’s face lit up in realization and when she smiled, her dimples popped out. “Oh, yeah. Nice to meet you.”

Olivia nodded. “You too.”

Allison seemed sweet enough but there was no way that Olivia was going to let her guard down.

Jackson Whittemore, Lydia’s boyfriend and Olivia’s friend, came up to them then, pulling Lydia into a sloppy kiss. They were a big fan of PDA but to Olivia, their make-out sessions were nauseating.

Allison must have agreed; she grimaced and awkwardly looked away.

“I want to say you’ll get used to it, but…” Olivia shrugged, giving Allison a sympathetic look.

Allison blanched. “Oh.”

Eventually, Lydia and Jackson tore themselves away from each other and Lydia took that time to obsess over Allison’s outfit again. While the redhead was observing the taller brunette’s bracelet, Olivia felt her phone vibrate in her pocket.

Derek: I’m in town. When can you meet?

Olivia raised her eyebrows, shocked. She hadn’t known that Derek was back in town so soon after his visit. She wished that he had said something.

Ollie: Now. School’s over. Pick me up?

Derek: I’ll be there in five

Olivia sent him back a thumb’s up emoji just as Lydia mentioned Jackson’s party to Allison.

“So, this weekend, there’s a party.”

“A party?” Allison asked timidly.

Olivia could relate to Allison’s hesitation. She hated parties, especially ones thrown at their house where she couldn’t get away from the crowd of drunk teenagers.

“Yeah, it’s on Friday night,” Jackson confirmed. “You should come.”

“Uh, I can’t,” Allison shook her head apologetically. “It’s family night this Friday. Thanks for asking, though.”

“Are you sure?” Jackson prodded. “Everyone’s going after the scrimmage.”

“You mean like football?”

“I wish,” Olivia joked, playfully grinning at the annoyed look Jackson sent her. “Unfortunately, the football team’s a joke. The sport here is lacrosse.”

“We’ve won the state championship for the past three years,” Jackson boasted.

“Thanks to a certain team captain,” Lydia spoke up, grinning lovingly at her boyfriend.

Jackson smiled back at her before looking at Allison. “Well, we have practice in a few minutes. If you don’t have anything to do, maybe you can come.”

“Well, I was going to—”

“Perfect!” Lydia interrupted her brightly. “You’re coming.”

Reluctantly, Allison followed Olivia, Lydia, and Jackson down the hallway.

As they passed her locker, Olivia spoke up, “I’m gonna miss practice today,” she told her cousin. “I’m meeting up with Derek.”

Lydia raised her eyebrows. “He’s still in town?”

“Apparently,” Olivia shrugged. She patted Jackson on the shoulder and gave Allison a small smile. “Have a good practice, Jackson. It was nice to meet you, Allison.”

Allison smiled and waved at her while Jackson nodded. Olivia split off from the group and went to her locker, taking out her satchel and draping it around her shoulders.

Once she walked out to the parking lot, she was relieved to see Derek’s black Camaro parked where she could see it. She jogged over to the car and slid into the passenger seat.

“Why are you still in town?” she asked Derek as he pulled out of the parking lot, not even bothering to greet him.

Derek sighed heavily. “I did go back,” he told her. “But Laura stayed behind for a couple of days. She never came back.”

Olivia furrowed her eyebrows, worried and confused. “So, she’s missing?”

“She was.”

“What does that mean? Did you find her?”

Derek pursed his lips sadly and looked over at Olivia. “Laura’s dead.”

Olivia stared blankly at the body in front of her, her eyes stinging from the need to cry. She had already shed tears on the way to the old Hale house where Derek had stashed Laura’s body and she felt like she was being weak if she cried any more. She hated crying, especially in front of someone. Sure, Derek was her cousin but they were alike when it came to showing emotional weakness.

Laura’s body was cut in half, sliced cleanly down the middle. Her brown hair was matted against her dirty back, sticky with blood and debris. Her blue eyes were fogged over, cloudy with death.

It made Olivia sick to her stomach, especially when she realized that Laura was the body that Mr. Thomas and the rest of the town were talking about.

“Did the Argents do this?”

The Argent family was famous for cutting a werewolf’s body in half. Usually, though, the Argents didn’t bother supernatural creatures unless they were harming humans. Laura was a gentle soul, she believed in preserving the relationship between the supernatural and the humans that lived in Beacon Hills.

“Maybe,” Derek exhaled deeply, arms crossed tightly over his chest as he looked down at his sister. “But if they did kill her, I’d be the alpha.”

Olivia looked over at her cousin, watching as his eyes flashed their usual icy-blue, not the deep red of an alpha.

“So, another werewolf killed her,” Olivia concluded.

Derek nodded. “I found something near her,” he pulled something from his pocket, handing it over to Olivia. “Do you recognize the name?”

Olivia glared down at the inhaler in her hand, reading the dirty label. The name of Scott McCall was printed in black ink, along with an expiration date and some instructions.

What the hell was Scott McCall doing by Laura’s body?

“Yeah, I recognize it,” Olivia confirmed, handing the inhaler back to Derek. “I go to school with Scott,” she sighed deeply. “What are we gonna do, Der?”

“We’re gonna bury her,” Derek’s lips trembled before falling into a scowl. “And then I’m gonna catch whoever did this.”

Olivia nodded, knowing that Derek was justified in doing whatever he needed to do to avenge Laura.

It didn’t take long to bury Laura’s body, though Derek did have to stop a couple of times to maintain his composure. Olivia kept him company, holding his hand tightly through his grief, trying to silently show him that she was there for him.

Once Derek flattened out the soil on Laura’s grave, Olivia took the wolfsbane rope that Derek prepared to ward off any werewolves around and laid it down into a spiral, the Hale family’s sign for vengeance. She attached it nicely to a wolfsbane plant and buried a few feet away from where Laura was.

The two of them stood silently over Laura’s grave, mourning their cousin and sister.

“I don’t—I don’t know what it was,” Scott admitted as he and Stiles balanced on a large tree over the creek that trailed through the preserve, jumping onto solid ground. “It was like I had all the time in the world to catch the ball.”

Scott was referring to lacrosse tryouts where he was put in the goal by Coach Finstock. Though he had been practicing since the end of last season, Scott hardly ever spent time in the goal. Coach didn’t care, though.

Surprisingly, Scott pulled it off. He caught every ball—other than the first one, which hit him in the head—even Jackson’s. His playing amazed everyone, including himself.

“And that’s not the only weird thing,” Scott continued, his eyes on the ground in search of his missing inhaler. “I can hear stuff I shouldn’t be able to hear. I can smell things…”

“Smell things?” Stiles spoke up, skeptical. “Like what?”

Scott turned to him, both of them walking. “Like the spearmint gum in your pocket.”

Stiles cocked an eyebrow and stopped in his tracks, digging his hand into his jacket. “I don’t even have any spearmint—” he paused as he pulled out a stick of gum and looked at Scott, amazed. Scott shrugged in an I-told-you-so way.

The boys continued walking.

“So,” Stiles said thoughtfully. “All this started with a bite?”

“What if it’s like an infection?” Scott asked worriedly. “Like my body’s flooding with adrenaline before I go into shock or something?”

Stiles grinned sneakily, seeing an opening for a prank. He wasn’t sure that Scott knew what lycanthropy was but with him spouting about how a wolf bit him and his newfound abilities, it was the perfect joke.

“You know what, I actually think I’ve heard of this,” he said, catching Scott’s attention. “It’s a specific kind of infection.”

Scott stopped. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded, putting his hands on his hips. “Yeah, I think it’s called lycanthropy.”

Scott’s eyes widened. “What’s that? Is that bad?”

Stiles couldn’t believe his luck. “Oh, yeah, it’s the worst,” he tried to keep the amusement from his voice. “But only once a month.”

“Once a month?”

Stiles hummed in confirmation. “On the night of the full moon.”

He tilted his head back and howled, mimicking a wolf. When Scott shook his head in annoyance and pushed him, he broke into snickers.

“Hey,” he chuckled. “you’re the one who heard a wolf howling.”

Scott narrowed his eyes and started walking again. “There could be something seriously wrong with me.”

“I know, you’re a werewolf!” Stiles exclaimed before fake growling. Scott didn’t look amused. “Okay, obviously I’m kidding,” he conceded. “But if you see me in shop class trying to melt all the silver I can find, it’s because Friday’s a full moon.”

Scott shook his head, coming to a stop. “We don’t even have a shop class,” he sighed, looking around at the familiar area. “I could have sworn this was it. The deer came running, I dropped my inhaler, and then I saw the body.”

He crouched down, sifting through the dead leaves by his feet.

“Maybe the killer moved the body,” Stiles suggested, looking around.

“If he did, I hope he left my inhaler,” Scott joked, looking up at Stiles. “Those things are, like, eighty bucks.”

Stiles snickered and looked around again, his heart stuttering in shock when he saw Olivia Martin and some guy standing a few feet away. They came out of nowhere, serious looks on both of their faces.

He slapped Scott’s shoulder, getting his attention.

As Scott got to his feet, the guy stalked forward. Olivia stood in place, crossing her arms over her chest.

“What are you doing here?” the guy asked crossly.

Stiles rubbed his buzzcut, feeling awkward.

“Huh?” the guy prodded when they didn’t answer. “This is private property.”

“Uh, sorry, man, we didn’t know,” Stiles apologized, looking between him and Olivia.

They were close to the old Hale house so that probably explained why Olivia was out here. But if Olivia was with this guy so close to the dilapidated mansion, he figured that the guy was one of the other survivors of the fire. Stiles guessed that he was her cousin, Derek Hale.

“Yeah,” Scott added to Stiles’ excuse. “we were just looking for something, but forget—"

Derek Hale cut off Scott, pulling his hand out of his leather jacket and throwing whatever he had at Scott. Scott caught it without much thought, looking down at his inhaler in shock.

Stiles glanced from the inhaler back at Olivia and Derek, only to find that they were gone.

“Uh,” Scott shook his head and slipped his inhaler into his pocket, looking at Stiles. “All right, come on. I gotta get to work.”

Stiles looked at him in disbelief. “Dude, that was Derek Hale. You remember what happened, right?”

“That was Olivia’s cousin?”

“Yeah, he’s only a few years older than us,” Stiles confirmed.

“What happened?” Scott asked, not remembering the tragic deaths of the Hale family and many others.

“His family, Olivia’s mom...they all burned to death in a fire six years ago,” Stiles informed him.

“I wonder what he’s doing back.”

Stiles shook his head, shrugging. “Probably visiting Olivia,” he took his keys out of his pocket, twirling them around his index finger. “Come on.”

The rest of the week passed quickly and Stiles was going out of his mind. Scott continued to act weirdly; he outperformed everyone at lacrosse tryouts, he winced every time the school bell rang, and the morning before the party, he slept walked into the woods.

Stiles had already started researching what could be wrong with his best friend but when his dad got a call from the lab where the dead body was sent and they discovered that there was wolf hair on the body, he was mystified.

Was his joke from the other day not a joke? Could Scott possibly be a werewolf?

Stiles didn’t know how to approach the topic with Scott but when he flipped over a couple of players on the lacrosse field and still scored a goal, Stiles knew he needed to confront his best friend.

He spent the rest of the afternoon researching anything that involved werewolves. There was a bunch of nonsense from Harry Potter, Twilight and The Vampire Diaries but eventually, he found some promising websites that gave him helpful information. He printed off numerous pages of articles, ranging from the effects of silver and wolfsbane to the first Lycan folklore.

Stiles narrowed his eyes at the screen of his MacBook, reading through the last paragraph of the article about supernatural hunters. He jumped in shock and closed his computer when there were rapid knocks on his closed door.

Scott was here.

He jumped out of his desk chair and opened the door, relieved to see Scott on the other side.

“Get in,” he ushered his best friend into his room, speaking rapidly. “You gotta see this. I’ve been researching all afternoon. I found a bunch of information.”

Scott grinned at him, recognizing his jerky movements and quick words. “How much Adderall have you had today?”

“A lot,” Stiles admitted, sitting at his desk and grabbing some of the papers he printed. “Doesn’t matter, okay? Just listen.”

“Oh, is this about the body?” Scott asked, throwing his backpack on Stiles’ bed and taking a seat next to it. “Did they find out who did it?”

“No, they’re still questioning people, even Derek Hale,” Stiles said, turning his chair to face him.

“Oh, Olivia’s cousin?” Scott’s face lit up in recognition. “Maybe that’s why she’s been grumpy all week.”

Stiles shrugged, remembering the frown and passive glare that had been on Olivia’s face the past few days. “I don’t know,” he shook his head. “But that’s not it, okay?”

“What then?”

“Remember the joke from the other day? Not a joke anymore,” Stiles said seriously. As Scott shook his head, confused, he pursed his lips. “The wolf, the bite in the woods? I started doing all this research—”

He flipped the papers in his hands, searching for the information on the howl of a wolf, and stood up. “Do you even know why a wolf howls?”

Scott stared at him, wondering where Stiles was going with this. “Should I?”

“It’s a signal,” Stiles regurgitated the information from the papers he was holding. “When a wolf’s alone, it howls to signal its location to the rest of the pack. So, if you heard a wolf howling, that means others could have been nearby.”

Scott straightened in alarm. “A whole pack of wolves?”

“No,” Stiles corrected him. “Werewolves.”

Tension practically fizzled in the air as Scott gave Stiles an annoyed look and stood up from the bed.

“Are you seriously wasting my time with this?” he scoffed, narrowing his eyes as he picked up his backpack so he could leave. “You know I’m picking up Allison in an hour.”

Stiles stepped in front of him. “I saw you on the field today, Scott. What you did wasn’t just amazing, all right? It was impossible.”

“Yeah, so I made a good shot,” Scott shrugged, trying to get past Stiles.

Stiles stopped him again, taking the backpack from his hands and throwing it back onto the bed. “No, you made an incredible shot. I mean, the way you moved, your speed, your reflexes? People can’t just suddenly do that overnight.”

Scott sighed and bowed his head.

“And there’s the vision and the senses,” Stiles continued, his voice growing louder. “and don’t even think I don’t notice that you don’t need your inhaler anymore!”

“Okay!” Scott interrupted, fed up. “Dude, I can’t think about this now. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?! What, no!” Stiles exclaimed, becoming panicked. “The full moon’s tonight. Don’t you get it?”

Scott’s chest puffed up as he grew irritated with his best friend. “What are you trying to do?” he asked Stiles harshly. “I just made the first line, I got a date with a girl who I can’t believe wants to go out with me, and everything in my life is somehow perfect. Why are you trying to ruin it?”

Stiles shook his head and sat in his chair. “I’m trying to help,” he reminded Scott. “You’re cursed, Scott. The moon won’t just cause you to physically change, okay? It also just happens to be when your bloodlust will be at its peak.”

Scott gritted his teeth. “Bloodlust?”

“Yeah, your urge to kill.”

“I’m already starting to feel an urge to kill, Stiles,” Scott sneered, glaring at him.

Stiles sucked in a sharp breath and turned to his desk, picking up another printed article. “You gotta hear this. ‘The change can be caused by anger or anything that raises your pulse.’ All right?” he finished reading and looked back at Scott. “I haven’t seen anyone raise your pulse like Allison does.”

Stiles stood up and walked purposely toward Scott’s backpack. “You gotta cancel this date,” he proclaimed, digging through Scott’s bag for his cell phone. “I’m gonna call her right now.”

Scott sighed heavily. “What are you doing?”

Stiles found the phone and stood up, preparing to message Allison. “I’m canceling your date.”

“No, give it to me!” Scott yelled, grabbing Stiles’ arm and forcefully pushing him into the wall by his desk.

He raised his fist, preparing to punch Stiles as his best friend squirmed, waiting for the blow. Scott’s fist shook severely as he turned away and shouted with rage, pushing away Stiles’ chair.

Stiles looked at Scott with wide eyes, trying to comprehend what had just happened. As Scott calmed down, he saw Stiles’ face, growing ashamed at the fear there.

He shuffled away from Stiles, grabbing his backpack. “I’m sorry,” he apologized sincerely, stepping toward the door. He looked back at Stiles once more, remorseful at the way his best friend stared at him. “I-I gotta go get ready for that party. I’m sorry.”

Stiles didn’t speak as Scott left the room. When his door shut firmly, he sighed heavily and knocked his head against his wall in frustration.

He was aggravated that Scott got violent with him, but if Scott was a werewolf, then he had to get over his irritation. Scott could hurt someone and if he was still going to Lydia’s party, Stiles had to be there in case something bad happened.

He huffed and bent down, picking up his chair that Scott had tossed away. Seeing the large scratches in the fake leather, he froze.

This was going to be a bad night.

Olivia leaned against the wall just inside her living room, her eyes warily searching the crowd of teenagers that were drinking cheap beer and dancing to the techno music that Danny provided. She was on the lookout for Scott McCall, hoping that he wasn’t going to show up.

When Derek told her that Scott was bitten and now a werewolf, she was shocked. She couldn’t believe that Scott—who was basically a nobody with really bad asthma—was going to turn into a raging monster on the nights of the full moon.

And the full moon was tonight, which was why she was actually participating in the party. Scott had asked Allison to go to the party with him and if he showed up, Olivia had to make sure he wouldn’t hurt anyone when the moon reached its peak.

She was just grateful that Derek was there, somewhere among her partying schoolmates. He’d be the only one who could stop Scott from acting out.

Olivia perked up when she saw Stiles Stilinski walk into the living room, his eyes searching the crowd much like she had been doing.

If anyone knew Scott, she thought, it’d be Stiles.

Olivia placed her red cup of soda on a nearby table and made her way over to Stiles, trying not to bump into anyone’s full cup.

“Stiles, right?” she asked him, loud enough to be heard over the music pumping through the many speakers around the house and backyard.

She knew his name, of course, but she didn’t want to intimidate him.

Stiles gaped at her, his whiskey eyes sweeping her up and down, taking in her red dress with cutouts around the waist and brown boots. “Yeah, I’m Stiles. You’re Olivia.”

“I know,” Olivia gave him a weird look. “Can we talk?”

“What?”

“Can we talk?”

“Sure!” Stiles nodded eagerly, a goofy grin—that Olivia had to admit was kind of cute—adorning his face. “Lead the way!”

Olivia took his sweaty hand and pulled him out of the living room, through the hallway, and into her aunt’s office, which was off-limits to party-goers. The walls weren’t exactly soundproof, but they could hear each other way better with the bonus of privacy.

“So, uh, what’d you want to talk about?” Stiles asked, awkwardly rubbing his buzzcut.

“Frankly, I want to talk about Scott,” Olivia said bluntly, missing the way Stiles frowned in disappointment.

“Uh, okay, but he’s here with Allison and he really likes her, so…”

“No, I don’t care about his relationship status,” Olivia shook her head, rolling her eyes. “I care about the fact that it’s a full moon tonight and he’s in a crowd full of people.”

Stiles gaped at her. “What, I—?” he shook his head, focusing. “How do you know about…?”

“About the fact that he’s a werewolf?” Olivia raised her eyebrows. Stiles nodded; she shrugged. “Derek told me.”

“Well, how does Derek know?”

“Because Derek’s a werewolf,” she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Are you fucking serious?” Stiles cursed under his breath. Of course Derek Hale was a fucking werewolf. Why wouldn’t he be?

What had he gotten himself into?

“Look, we don’t know you or Scott that well, but we want to help,” Olivia spoke up after letting Stiles absorb the new information. “Derek has experience with full moons, he can help Scott get through it.”

“Are you a werewolf?” Stiles asked, still trying to come to terms with everything.

“No,” Olivia shook her head. “My dad was but I’m not.”

“Oh,” Stiles nodded, scratching the back of his neck, his mind whirling a mile a minute. He paused, giving her a skeptical look. “Why should we trust you?”

“Like I said, Derek knows what Scott’s about to go through,” Olivia said patiently. “And, honestly, I don’t want Scott to rip into anyone out there. It’s not safe for anyone involved.”

Stiles nodded slowly; he and Scott didn’t exactly need to explicitly trust Derek but if he could help Scott with the full moon, what was the harm? They didn’t have anything to lose at the moment.

“Fine,” he agreed, hoping that Scott would too. “We should probably get out there before Scott and Allison show up.”

“I’m glad we agree,” Olivia smiled at him, opening the door and following him out of the room.

Stiles’ heart quickened as Olivia’s arm brushed against his as they walked back to the party, a brand-new song starting.

“You want a drink?” Olivia asked him loudly, gesturing toward the drink table.

Stiles nodded. “Sure!”

They hustled to the table and poured their drinks, both of them opting for a non-alcoholic beverage. Afterward, they walked around, trying to find Scott and Allison. When they found the couple dancing outside, they waited together to see what would happen.

It only took two songs for Scott to start transforming under the influence of the full moon. He stumbled away from Allison and into the house.

Stiles and Olivia approached him cautiously.

“Scott, you good?” Stiles asked him.

“Are you okay?” Olivia added worriedly before looking for a sign of her cousin.

Scott pushed past them, ignoring their questions, and stumbled out of the house, knocking into a couple of people.

Before Olivia and Stiles could follow Scott, Allison ran after him, calling out his name. As Scott ignored Allison, Olivia and Stiles followed her, coming out of the house just in time to see Derek offering Allison a ride.

“What’s your cousin doing?” Stiles asked Olivia, frustrated and a little panicked.

Olivia shook her head. “I don’t know. You go after Scott, I’ll talk to Derek.”

Stiles nodded and ran off, finding his jeep and driving away. Meanwhile, Olivia walked up to Allison and Derek.

“Hey,” she greeted them, trying to keep her nerves at bay. “Allison, are you leaving?��

“Uh, yeah,” Allison gave her an apologetic look. “Sorry, I’m not feeling well.”

“I offered to give her a ride home,” Derek spoke up, giving Olivia a pointed look that Allison didn’t catch.

Olivia knew what he was doing and she wished he wouldn’t. She had already talked to Stiles and got him to trust them. If Stiles agreed to them helping Scott, she was sure that Scott would agree, too. This—what Derek was doing—was just going to piss them off.

However, she knew Derek. He wouldn’t back down.

Olivia hesitantly nodded and smiled at Allison. “Well, you’ll be safe with Derek. See you at school on Monday?”

Allison nodded with a small smile. “Yeah.”

“Feel better, Allison.”

Stiles huffed, silently cursing to himself as he continued to drive down the highway just outside of the preserve. He’d been searching for Scott all night and had yet to find him after he ran off to find Derek and Allison.

Of course, Stiles knew Allison was safe at home but he wondered if Scott knew that.

Really, he was pissed. Not at Scott but Derek and Olivia. Olivia had said that Derek was going to help Scott but instead Scott revealed that Derek was the one to bite Scott and kill the girl in the woods. He was inclined to trust his best friend more than some random guy and the girl he had been crushing on since the second grade.

So, what was Derek and Olivia’s plan? And why did Olivia approach him, giving him false promises?

Stiles narrowed his eyes as he caught sight of Scott up ahead, walking on the side of the road. He was shirtless and clutching his right arm, as though he was injured.

Stiles pulled up and stopped, letting him into the jeep.

“You okay?” he asked, pulling off his blazer to give to Scott to wear.

“Yeah,” Scott mumbled, pulling the blazer over him. He leaned his head against his door as Stiles started driving and sighed. “You know what I’m worried about?”

Stiles licked his lips and side-glanced Scott, annoyed. “If you say Allison, I’m gonna punch you in the nuts.”

“She probably hates me now,” Scott complained, ignoring what Stiles said.

Stiles groaned. “I doubt that,” he disagreed. “but you might want to come up with a pretty amazing apology…Or, you know, you could just tell her the truth and revel in the fact that you’re a fuckin’ werewolf!”

Scott looked at him tiredly, eyebrows raised high on his forehead.

“Okay, bad idea,” Stiles admitted sheepishly.

Scott sighed and laid his head back on his window.

“Hey, we’ll get through this,” Stiles comforted Scott, nudging his knee before returning his hand to the steering wheel. “Come on, if I have to, I’ll chain you up myself on full moon nights and feed you live mice. I had a boa once, I could do it.”

Scott chuckled, cheered up by his best friend’s goofiness. “Sure, if it comes to that.”

Stiles pumped his fist. “Yes!”

(Gif is not mine)

#teen wolf rewrite #stiles stilinski x oc #stiles stilinksi x reader #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski fanfiction #teen wolf fanfiction #stiles stilinski x original character

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leondaltons · 4 years

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I finally got around writing the main points of my murderverse OCs! I might update this later to add Chantal, I mean she is dead and used as a plot device but I did give her a little of background and personality hahaah

Sienna Myung (fc: Jisoo):

Sienna comes from an old money family, they have been running multiple and diverse businesses around the world for decades now, becoming one of the wealthiest families in Roseon; and she has an older twin sister, Chantal. Despite running with the popular crowd Sienna is much more laid back than her sister, she is friendly and naturally charms people with her gentleness; she is trustworthy and easy to talk to, genuinely enjoying helping others. Don’t let her kindness foul you tho, she would fight with nails and teeth for the people & things she cares about and her passionate personality means she doesn’t give up easily.

Sienna has been going to the institute since she was around ten and is extremely active in the school life and its organizations. She is a member of the student council and part of the tutoring program, while is also a member of the arts club, having a natural talent and passion for painting and drawing. Sienna used to be a member of the athletics team too before an accident last semester left her unable to keep training to the required level.

After Chantal is murdered by someone confusing her with Sienna (so like, everyone thinks Sienna is dead lol), Sienna pretends to be her twin and promises to find the person who not only wanted her dead but also killed her sister.

Giving her parents wealth, status and friendship with the royal family Sienna has known the royal siblings since an early age but her closest relationship has always been with Prince Seon, becoming best friends. With time, that friendship developed into something more for Sienna but she refused to accept those feelings, because no matter how rich her family was she wasn’t nobility and would never be enough for him

Lady Olivia Adtaz (fc: Lucy Boynton):

Olivia is the only daughter of a marquess and a countess. She was raised by nannies until she was old enough to be sent to the boarding school, so her relationship with her parents is non-existent. They just send her expensive gifts for her birthdays, usually picked by their personal secretaries.

The way she was raised made Olivia snobby, selfish and egocentric but also manipulative enough to get away with it. She is also a drama queen, perhaps as a way of externalising some of her emotions without getting too deep into how she really feels. Despite all of these things, on the inside Olivia feels lonely and insecure, usually acting mean as a way of self-preservation and because she doesn't know how to be any other way. For Olivia showing her true feelings would be a sign of weakness, and she can’t do that because then she would have nothing else; at least by being mean there would be a reason why people would stay away.

Olivia is part of the athletics team and sometimes takes part in equestrian activities (although as a hobby and not as a member of the team). Despite not showing it much her biggest passion is dancing, especially ballet. No one has really taken interest in her extra-curricular activities, so she pretends she does it because it’s an obligation, and not because she loves it.

Although she hangs out with the popular crowd, Olivia doesn’t have someone she is extremely really close to, having problems to form any meaningful friendship given all the walls she has built around herself. When “Sienna” gets murdered, Olivia is also accused of being the killer, especially when people start remembering last year rumours about an “accident” between the two that left Sienna injured and out of the athletics team. (Olivia had nothing to do with it, but you know how much rich people love gossip lol)

Alex Montgomery (fc: Drew Ray Tanner):

Alex has come to work as the newest groundskeeper after the previous one suddenly left in suspicious circumstances. Alex's arrival has brought a lot of rumours, which only grow stronger given his mysterious and bad boy look. However Alex also has a charming and flirty personality, while still being respectful. He knows how he looks and takes advantage of it, using it as an armor. Under his exterior Alex is extremely passionate and caring regarding the people and things he cares about.

Alex didn't have an easy childhood, growing up in a complicated neighborhood and his mother trying to support both of them, he got in a lot of problems but always knew how to get out of trouble with his charming personality.

Unknown to the people in the institute, Alex is the bastard son of the school director (who never recognized him because of his mother not being part of the elite world). After he ends up in a problem with gangs back home, his mother calls the director threatening to go public about everything she knows about him if he doesn't help Alex get out of his problems

Alex feels extremely frustrated because he doesn't want to be working on the institute at first, but he knows that it would make his mother happy and avoid her getting into trouble with his father (although he does enjoy chopping trees in the woods surrounding the school)

He is smart but has a hard time concentrating and actually studying. He also loves playing the guitar.

Prince Hyeon of Redrana (fc: Taehyung):

Prince Hyeon is the heir prince of the neighboring kingdom of Redrana. Hyeon has a hard time dealing with actual feelings, he is aloof, cold and sometimes can be a little egocentric.

He has a lot of responsibilities over his shoulders especially because of his parents' pressure over him, but never had someone to lean in. All his life Hyeon's parents have only yelled or ignored him and then the rest of the world just feel at his feet for just being a prince. No one has ever treated him like a normal person before, never liking or disliking for who he is behind his title

Given his up birth he has been trained in multiple areas but he especially stands out in music, having a passion for the piano (despite not openly showing it)

His parents are trying to push him into a marriage with Princess Helena of Roseon but he isn't interested in entering an arranged marriage and is sometimes cold or indifferent towards her

#uff finally #murderverse #murderverse: sienna #murderverse: hyeon #murderverse: olivia #murderverse: alex #text

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skylarmoon71 · 4 years

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Rafael Barba Imagine (Extra)

Disclaimer: I don’t own Law and Order SVU.

“Sometimes I wonder how he’s still alive.” Carisi jokes. He and Rollins just got back from court after watching Rafael in his natural habitat. From what you heard he was going at the criminal with all he had. He walked in too, with Olivia on his trail. “The case is strong, and we have enough to put him at the scene. We’ll nail this son of a bitch. He won’t hurt another woman again. “

His assurance was all Olivia really needed. She knew where Barba’s priorities were and he always fought for justice for the victim. That was probably one of the main reasons that you liked him. His undying sense of justice. One thing instilled in you was not to trust anyone. At least in your eyes, anyone could do bad things. A mother, close friend, even a sibling. Most of the time when you caught the perp you were shocked at who the suspect turned out to be. That’s why with Barba, you were thankful for him. No matter what the situation, you knew Barba was someone you would never have to worry about doing something like that.

Your gaze moved back to your desk, relieved that another psycho was getting what he deserved. “Why don’t we go out tonight. This case is pretty much wrapped up. “ Rollins pitched in. Carisi jumped up almost immediately. “I’m in.” he basically shouted. You giggled.

“Me too, got nothing better to do.” Fin added.

“What about you (Y/N)?” you blinked. Your eyes moved in Barba’s direction before pitching back.

“I-I’m fine. Think I’ll just call it a night. Catch up on some sleep. “ Rollins snorted, seeing right through you. She walked closer leaning in.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed. You got a little boyfriend don’t you?” her statement made you tense. You and Barba just started dating, and you didn’t want anyone to know about it. That’s why you were always cautious in your interactions.

“I-I have no idea what you mean.” you denied. She just smiled. You were grateful she didn’t voice her thoughts out loud, because you didn’t want the entire team discussing your love life. Olivia came running out with her phone clutched to the side of her face. “Carisi, Rollins get to the school, Fin, (Y/N) come with me!” you didn’t even need an explanation. You grabbed your coat, swerving around your chair as you paced out the door with her.

~~~

When you got back to the precinct you were exhausted. The suspect had taken the witness hostage, with intention to kill. Liv was fortunate she’d gotten a call from the school when she did, otherwise the outcome would have been far worse. He was now successfully in police custody, another charge added to his already high list. He was looking at 25 to life in prison.

“Another full day.” you sighed dropping into your chair. Rollins and the others already left to the bar. If you were being honest, now you really weren’t in the mood to drink. The sight of that boy almost being shot never left your mind.

“Rough day.” a voice said next to you. Your eyes opened, looking over at lime green ones. “You have no idea.” Barba chuckled, taking a seat at your desk.

“I know this job can get to you sometimes. I forget sometimes that you’re still pretty new to this. You should find someone to talk to about your day. It’s not good to keep it bottled up.” you nodded.

“I have been chatting with someone. Liv gave me a number last time. When that guy took me hostage. It’s just something about being held at gunpoint that never really leaves you. “ Barba didn’t say much after that, just leaned over placing a hand on your knee. You smiled at the gesture, sitting up.

“If you ever need to talk, I’m right here. I think you of all people should know how good I am with words. “ that made you laugh. “Rafael Barba, the king of communication.” he smirked. “At your service.” His presence really did help though. Despite his sharp tongue, his heart was always in the right place. There was just something about him. No matter how many times he said things to make you want to punch him sometimes, he was just so dang charming. Not to mention caring. You could see the genuine worry reflected in his eyes. He knew what this job did to people.

“I know it gets hard, I just hope that no matter how much scumbags we take down, that you’ll never lose that light in you. “ You raised an eyebrow.

“Really I have a light in me?” It sounded kind of cheesy, you were about to point that out to him but he stopped you.

“Yes, and I am aware how cheesy that sounds. Before you tear me down hear me out. “ you closed your mouth with a smile. “Very well, proceed counselor. “ He grinned.

“You’re the youngest, so I believe it's natural for you to be naive. But you’re actually the most realistic one on this team. When you first joined I thought you’d be making rookie mistakes. Similar to what Carisi did. He always assumed that certain circumstances would make a case solid. He’s studying law so I guess it’s understandable for him to have so much faith in the law. But that’s not how these cases usually turn out.” you sat there listening as he continued.

“You don’t see the world that way though. Your eyes reflect hope, but also a tinge of maturity in ways that I’ve seen before. Your life growing up must have been hard, the level of knowledge and growth in your eyes is close to what I’ve seen from Liv. You have a general understanding of how the world is, something very uncommon for women your age. “ You were alarmed at how well he was reading you. For a second you swore maybe he was just moon lancing as an ADA and was secretly a profiler.

“How do you..”

“I’m good at my job (Y/N).” Yep, there it was, that tongue.

“That being said, there is also an innocence that does reflect your age. Maybe it’s the way your eyes sparkle when Carisi brings in your favorite pizza, or the adorable way your cheeks flush whenever I give you a compliment, or kiss your deliciously soft lips..”

That statement was said a little lower. You blushed, as if proving his statement. He was right though. No matter how many times he kissed you, you’d always get a little bashful. You couldn’t help it. At heart you were still very much the shy rookie of NYPD’s Special Victims Unit. He leaned closer, face barely inches apart. You actively swallowed, wanting nothing more than him to lean in and claim your lips. From the look in his eyes, he was thinking the same. Your breathing got a little shallow at the lack of space between you.

“I have faith that this job will not affect you in the ways you think. Trust me (Y/N).” he gave your knee another little pat before standing.

“Well, get some rest, we’ll probably have a busy day tomorrow. “ And just like that he was padding over to his office. You just watched him strut off all confident. You pressed a hand to your face to try and calm your insistent heart beat. Once again Barba had won another case. You were sure he was smirking to himself in his office.

~~~

Rollins walked in the next morning laughing at something Carisi whispered to her. You looked up at their voices. “Hey rookie, how was your quiet night. “ you grumbled at the nickname.

“Come on Amanda I’ve been here for at least five months. I think the rookie thing is getting old. “

“Please, I’m still the new guy around here.” Carisi chipped in.

“It has to be the accent.” you spoke. He just gave you a look.

“Very funny (Y/N).” you shrugged.

“Just saying, that Staten Island drawl does get to you.” you teased. You turned not really paying attention to what was in front of you. You ran right into someone. Said person grabbed you by the shoulder to prevent a very ungraceful fall. You looked up to thank the person and also apologize.

The words got stuck in your throat when you realized it was Barba. His hands were still on you. “Uhhh I-I uhhh..” you couldn’t form words. This was the closest the two of you ever were at work. You knew you should have maybe pulled away. You didn’t want your colleagues catching wind of anything. You finally willed yourself to pull back, straightening your clothes.

“S-Sorry counselor.” Your cheeks were darker than they’ve ever been. When you collected yourself you noticed a cup of coffee spilled on the ground. Carisi and Rollins were in the background trying to keep it together, especially at the look on your face.

“Oh my gosh I dropped your coffee. I’ll get you another one immediately sir.” you just took off, completely mortified. Barba stared at your retreating form. A smile threatened to show but he held it back, settling for what he hoped was a stare of annoyance. “Rookies. “ he spoke and Carisi agreed with a nod.

“Tell me about it.” he chuckled.

You stepped into Barba’s office with his coffee. After that very embarrassing situation, you felt like this was the only way to redeem yourself. When he saw you his eyes twinkled.

“Oh, came to replace my poor drink. Frapa did not deserve such a death.” you glared.

“Can it, it was bad enough basically the entire precinct saw me crash into you, after almost faceplanting. Don’t you think my ego has taken enough hits today.”

You placed the caffeinated drink on his desk, turning to leave. Barba stood, grabbing your hand before you could go. You looked back at him in confusion and alarm.

“W-What are you doing, someone could see u-” that particular statement didn’t have a chance to properly form. Barba pulled you forward. His lips meeting yours in a heated desperation. You tensed at the beginning, until he started nibbling on your lower lip. You submitted, body enjoying the way his tongue mapped every inch of your mouth on entry. Of course he wasn’t just good at law. This guy was just a walking ball of masculinity and frigging dominance. It drove you crazy. You were gripping at the back of his shirt as he ravished your mouth. When his lips left your own you were panting. Chest still actively pressed to him. The both of you were breathing erratically.

“Sabes bien..” Sometimes you forgot he spoke Spanish. You didn’t even know what he said, but damn it was sexy. A pleasant shiver ran up your spine.

“I should knock your coffee over more often.” he laughed, and so did you.

“Definitely.” Barba agreed.

Translation: Sabes bien- you taste good. (Sorry if this is incorrect, I got it from google translate lol)

#rafaelbarba #barbaxreader #love #reader insert #amandarollins #carisi #fin #oliviabenson #law and order: special victims unit #crime #shy reader #cute #hotbarba #witness

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diveronarpg · 4 years

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Congratulations, LIA! You’ve been accepted for the role of OLIVIA. Admin Julie: It’s always a delight to see you in our inbox, Lia -- imagine our joy when we saw you’d returned to us in the shape of our favorite sparrow, Omi! It’s been some time since we had her in play, which is a shame, because she’s one of our personal favorites. But you’ve pinned everything about Omi down to a T, from their characteristic skill and allure in trapping others with a few words and sharp gaze, to the way they’re wound around Verona’s fingers and don’t seem to realize... or choose not to. You’ve enthralled us once again, and we cannot wait to have you back on the dashboard and knee-deep in the chaos with Omi in your hands. Please review the CHECKLIST and send your account in within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Lia.

Age | 22

Pronouns | She/Her/Hers

Activity Level | I’m about to start my summer program, but since I’m only in class three days during next semester on online, I imagine I’ll have plenty of freetime. But knowing me, I’ll most likely log on every few days to knock out a few replies.

Timezone | EST (PST in two months (~:)

How did you find the rp? | The tag a few centuries ago.

Current/Past RP Accounts | honestly, all of my best characters were in DV :/ All 17 of them

IN CHARACTER

Character | Olivia AKA Yamamoto Omi

What drew you to this character? |

Omi is a character I’ve eyeballed during my time at DV, but someone I’ve never quite had the nerve to apply for. But it is the qualities that I initially shied away from that have inspired me to apply for them this time around. Even upon searching the origin of Omi’s name, I was fascinated by the worldliness and elusiveness it implied about their character. I came across two definitions, both of which I believe represented her character accurately:

1. OMI— magnificent; the sound of the universe

She is a walking contradiction— the product of love and violence— never truly lacking in either aspect within her lifetime. Maybe that is why she finally found community and comfort within Verona after venturing all over the world. As much as she might hate to admit, this very love and violence is what she’s comfortable with— it’s how she’s learned to thrive and survive. Though they never truly felt like themselves as they ventured around the world, they kept small pieces of each place they visited, all of which have made them into the Sparrow, the performer, that they are today. This is why I began viewing Omi as the sound of the universe. Vast and immeasurable, and not quite able to pinpoint to a single source. She is representative of an assembly of realities. She is never quite the same with each person she encounters, with them only receiving a snapshot or illustration of who she is, with the people she’s closest to receiving the most authentic parts of herself. To be a Sparrow is to participate— in Omi’s opinion— in one of the most precise crafts— an art form that only a select number can master. It is a performance, one in which they give their entirety to, oftentimes to the point that they sense themself slipping away, forgoing what they thought to be their true self and instead opting for the persona they have created. Somehow, being Omi the Sparrow is a far less difficult reality for her to face. What is expected of her is straightforward, her desires and fulfillment never changing very much. Omi the Sparrow always gets what she wants. Their heart is unbreakable, yet shared with everyone they encounter. The power and agency can be detected in her words, her mannerisms— she is completely sure of herself, and what she represents. But Omi— just plain Omi, questions herself constantly. She desires to be seen more than anything but is hesitant to show herself to another person. The weight of the secrets of others sometimes threatens to topple her over. What would their patrons think of their constant doubt? This was something they would never discover because she values her position more than she doubts herself. She loves luxury and security more than she questions who she is and who she’s become. She thrives in this simplistic power far more than she finds herself succumbing to it. And this leads me to what I love most about Omi. Her position allows her to wield a form of power that isn’t flashy or overt, or as obvious and clear cut as many people within the mob. It is subtle and it is dangerous. It is a power you least expect, which will certainly make her someone to look out for within the Verona. It is a power that she does not quite comprehend the magnitude and weight of as of now, but something I hope to develop over time.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |

MONA— Their saving grace. There are seldom things Mona could do that would lessen the admiration that Omi holds for her, as this is the woman who they believed to have saved them, to introduce them to the boundless and limitless potential that they had. She did not introduce anything that was not there but instead nurtured the qualities that Omi already possessed for her to become one of the best, if not the best Sparrow that has glided through the various rooms and crannies of The Dark Lady thus far. Omi looks upon Mona as a big sister and is always aiming to please her, whether she recognizes that she’s actively doing so or not. But she is bound to cross her eventually— whether it is slight or monumental, and I believe Omi temporarily or permanently (dear lord idk if I could handle Mona not loving them pls sotkgoerkgose) falling from their grace would be an interesting concept to explore. So much of her existence is tied to Mona’s, and I think that it would take something like that occurring for her to recognize this. Who exactly would she be without Mona rescuing her? Would she have survived a day in the city without her? Having Omi deal with being without Mona would introduce some harsh truths. Could they truly rely on themself? Though she adamantly expresses her desire not to be possessed, is it that she truly enjoys being subjected to the whims of another person, so as long she is given the autonomy, luxury, and ability to wield some form of power? Would she simply be transferred from the hands of one power player to another, seeking out one of the mobs knowing they were the only other people who could give her what she truly desired?

FRIENDS ON THE OTHER SIDE— In the short time that Omi has spent in Verona, she’s acquired quite a few patrons from various walks of Veronesi royalty, but as much as she’s done her best to keep people at a distance, she’s also made a few friends. Chiko— whose hopes and dreams she’s carried with her since childhood— with them being one of the sole people to know Omi to near entirety. Felipe— the man who made her realize that even ghosts were capable of creating trouble for themselves, who she’d dared to offer real information about herself for whatever reason, finding something odd and compelling about the handsome enigma before her. Calina— their true match of wits, words, and worldliness— the person in which she’s entrusted with not just her fears and shortcomings, but her hopes and dreams, as well as them being that very person to set her heart aflutter. All of these people have something in common. In some shape or form, they are familiar with more than just Omi the Sparrow. I wonder what danger this could pose for her in the future. Would it be the person they are in essence that would land her in trouble? Chiko, the ruthless social climber, Felipe, who they knew trouble was always a short distance behind, and Calina, whose ties with the mob could only naturally come with trouble… couldn’t they? I want Omi to eventually land in some more trouble (maybe this could be something intertwined with my first plot, or potentially something entirely unrelated), and truly test how far she’s willing to go for the friendships she hopes to keep. Maybe it has to do with some information told to her in confidence; information she almost feels obligated to share with Mona. Will she refuse to do so, at the risk of the life and livelihood that she’s created for herself?

LOOSE ENDS— The past will always be the past for Omi— unless that past happened to make an appearance in the city of Verona. This isn’t something they would expect to occur, given that they have two dead parents, no siblings, or any known extended family. Maybe this would come in the form of Chiko— maybe some other unknown source would manage to dig up some sort of information to potentially be used against them. Regardless, I want Omi to be confronted with her past life, and for her to realize that the horror will always be apart of her, no matter how long that she’s attempted to evade it.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Yes, but I think I would miss her more than any of my other characters ngl :(

IN DEPTH

In-Character Para Sample:

tw: mentions of death and violence

In The Dark Lady, Omi transformed into a blossom tinted mirror in which men and women alike looked upon in order to divest the realities they so desired. This functioned the similarity to a rose-tinted glass, their very persona the result of a thousand borrowed realities. In Omi, they sought the best version of themselves. They had the ability to morph into everything their patrons wanted, yet could not own, making them all the more desirable. There was something especially tantalizing about what appeared to be accessible, but ever so slightly out of a person’s reach. Even if the reality of things were that there was no chance in hell. Even if there had been a burgeoning disgust for each and every one of the wealthy, and corrupt person they encountered. Even if she’d been unable to scour away their caress no matter how many showers she subjected herself to in the early hours of the morning. How effortlessly she’d sold them a dream. How effortlessly they’d become enamored with The Dark Lady’s very own Japanese Cherry Blossom, a hand-picked artifact from Sakura to enjoy in their very own Verona. She bartered away a fantasy, and in exchange they fed her in secrets, each whisper only intensifying her power and allure. No amount of repulsion would change that they were damn good at their job. No amount of repulsion would change that she’d finally found where they’d belong.

They were notorious for their collection of extremely high heels, and rumor had it that not even a misstep had occurred in a single pair of them. Eyes danced over her as she glided into the casino, garnering an especially large crowd probably because of the fresh pixie cut she’d been sporting. Some days, Omi would linger, never quite sure whose attention she’d capture that day, but on other days, her presence had been requested by a specific patron. Today’s patron had been of particular importance. A well known Italian bureaucrat she’d actually managed to find rather endearing at times, despite her suspicion that he’d been spending more time with her than his own family. Nevermind that though. They had a sneaking suspicion that they were only moments away from stumbling upon a goldmine of information. They reckoned that this particular information could potentially make not just Mona, but both mobs particularly happy. Soon as they’d reached the Blackjack table, the patron, Patron E, swept her merrily into his arms, spinning her in place, resulting in her delighted laughter, clutching onto his shoulders to maintain her balance. Once he’d gotten his fill, she carefully placed a single kiss on each of his cheeks, taking in the scent of whiskey on his lips. No wonder he’d been especially playful. The whiskey had only begun their job for them. “Why, if it isn’t the most lovely person in all of Verona,” Patron E stated, grinning ear to ear. “I absolutely adored your old hair, bella, but with this cut, you somehow managed to become even more magnificent."

She smiles coyly, hands traveling down the lengths of his arms until meeting his hands, which he brought promptly to his lips for a kiss. "I was feeling spontaneous, E, but knowing you like it lifted a significant weight off my shoulder. Everyone else’s opinion be damned, but yours has always meant the world to me,” they coo in flawless Italian. “Is there anything else you noticed?"

His eyes drank her in hungrily, almost hungrier than usual, before returning to her eye level. "You’re wearing my good luck charm,” he responded with an almost childlike euphoria. Patron E had been referring to the deep V-Neck Dolce & Gabbana gown that had been purchased for her by another Patron of hers— Q— with the jet black of her hair only accentuating the Black sequins of the gown. She took it upon herself to take his hand and lift it above the both of them, completing a graceful, yet playful twirl to show off every sparkle and curve of the length of her body.

“Is that so?” she mused with her head tilted curiously on an axis. “It’s almost as if I wore especially for you, mio callo. You did tell me tonight was a big night for you, after all.” His eyes twinkled gratefully as he pulled out a seat for her at the blackjack table, settling into the seat next to him, her body positioned perpendicularly to his, taking absolutely no interest in the game before them. It had been a game she’d witnessed by the side of many men before him and would witness many men after him. Her knees were pressed against his thigh, with the leg closest to the table occasionally finding itself absentmindedly caressing his own. One hand consistently remained attached his shoulder, with their other hand assisting them in the delivery of their sweet nothings, cupping his ear to whisper everything he’d ever wished to discover. Together they laughed, flirted, and whispered— he drank and she carefully sipped, until the game finally came to a close, with him losing per usual. After that, the pair of them moved to a more intimate section of The Dark Lady, the place in which Omi would officially make her move for the information she sought. There he sat on the couch, with her comfortably positioned horizontally in his lap, her slender legs coiled around her legs, with her hand absentmindedly stroking his hair. She’d been telling him some story she’d invented ages ago, half-truths tumbling effortlessly from her lips as she illustrated her last days in Sakura. Once she was done, she began studying his features intently.

“See anything you like?” he asks her quietly, and she cups his chin before deciding he’d been worthy of an answer.

“I see something I like, but something different,” she began with faux perplexion. “Even beneath this red light, I can sense the excitement almost vibrating off of you. “It suits you. I wish you were always this happy when you saw me. Far less tense than usual.”

“Now, Omi, you know I feel most like myself when I’m with you. You always receive the best parts of me,” he says seriously as his hand cups her wrist. “But, to tell you the truth, I’ve come across some very good fortune. A good fortune that I believe will alter the trajectory of my life. I’ve struck a life-changing deal.”

“That’s amazing! I couldn’t be happier for you!” she exclaims softly, before falling into a demure pout. “This… deal won’t take you away from me now, will it?”

He chuckles at her pout as if him parting from her would truly be the most unfortunate occurrence in her 30 years of life. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about a thing, Tesoro. The deal I’ve made has allowed me to acquire a large sum of money. And I have no plans of parting from you anytime soon.”

She smiles gratefully, yet sadly as if she can’t believe it. He looks at her, searching for an answer to her sadness. “What is it, il mio amore? Why do you look so blue?”

At that moment— the slightest pang of sadness sped through her. How effortlessly he had succumbed to her charm, to the point that she’d almost felt bad for the fool. “Well… the way you aren’t giving much information about the deal is only forcing me to draw my own conclusions. Ones in which I can’t help but assume that you’ve been put in a dangerous predicament, which is stopping you from telling because you’re afraid to get me into trouble.” He drew her closely, placing a soft kiss on each of her temples, then her forehead, then her lips.

“I wouldn’t let them harm a hair on your head, Omi. I hope you know that I mean that.” She resisted chuckling. She’d been nearly divinely protected. If anything it was him who wouldn’t be able to harm a hair on her head.

“Is this them you speak of…” she looks around carefully, knowing there was no one near, but doing it as if to accentuate her supposed fear. “The government…?” she offers him, and when he does not react, she places a long, lacquered pinky nail upon her lip. “Don’t tell me you’ve gotten yourself mixed up with one of the mobs, E—”

“Mixed up with the mobs?” he interrupts with a haughty chuckle. “Why, they’ve gotten themselves mixed up with me, dearest Omi. Sooner rather than later, both the Capulets and the Montagues will be feeding out of the palm of my hand.” How drunk had the man had to have been to have confessed such a silly sentiment? Or was it not the liquor at all, and simply Omi bearing witness to the limitless bounds of the male ego? Probably a mixture of both.

She shoves his shoulder gently, feigning shock. “You’ve either done something insanely brilliant or incredibly stupid. But I’ve always known you to be far too clever for the latter.”

With each curious caress, they’d managed to extract more and more information from their subject, his ego centering itself above all else— even his desire to live. He had to have known that, hadn’t he? Or had he simply been too foolish to even consider the danger he’d been putting himself in by leaving every detail of his plan upon Omi’s lips? How foolish he had beenShe shoves his shoulder gently, feigning shock. “You’ve either done something insanely brilliant or incredibly stupid. But I’ve always known you to be far too clever for the latter.”

“Someday…” he slurs, faced resting comfortably on her chest as she stroked the top of his head, his arms wrapped lovingly around her waist. “I’m gonna whisk you away. And just like that, you’ll be mine. Forever and always.”

Omi chuckles at this sentiment— ones she’s heard nearly a dozen times before. She’d had no desire to be one of his pretty things, not by him or any other person in this world for that matter.

“Why, E— I know if that were to occur, you’d be doomed to break my heart.” “Omi, you can’t truly believe that now… can you?” he says tilting his head upwards until their lips are only mere inches apart.

“I’m afraid I do, mi caro. Because the moment in which the magic begins to dwindle from your eyes when you look at me is the moment my heart is sure to break. I know that if we continue our occasional rendezvous that I’ll continue to be the loveliest I could be in your eyes. Oh— and I’m a terribly loud snorer. You wouldn’t sleep a minute in my presence.”

That had been enough to satisfy him, if only for a single moment. The very thought of him truly breaking her heart had been absurd, but the very thought of the blossom mirror cracking, the idea of her carefully constructed persona being exposed for being exactly that, alarmed her. Anything short of near perfection was unacceptable. She owed her to that and Mona. It would be at that moment that Omi would understand that she was no longer as good at her job as she needed to be. Surely that would not leave them desolate, they would still be a top-performing Sparrow after all. But they would no longer be the best, and no man or woman would ever take that away from them. Even if they meant keeping the majority of the world at a safe distance. Not when they’d finally found their people. Not when they’d finally answered their calling. Not when Verona was finally starting to feel like home.

Little did she know that this would be the last time she’d ever see Patron E. Just as she’d suspected, the information had been of immense value. Her reputation as the top Sparrow only increased tenfold, and she remained in Mona’s good graces, never tiring of her constant praise and doting. Word of his death returned to them from another one of their patrons even before it appeared even in the papers. Omi couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness for his widow and children. No woman and family should have their livelihood threatened by the likes of a stupid, stupid, stupid man.

She did not wear Q’s dress after that day. When she asked about it the next time he saw her, she began whispering a delightful tale about how her suitcase had mysteriously wound up missing upon returning from a brief trip to Paris, knowing she’d wind up with a new one before the conversation concluded…

#accepted #accepted: olivia

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