#attack tw

Go on, Jesse. Walk it off. Hands pushed at the man's back, shoving him off — gentle, but firm — away from the bar. Jesse tripped forward a couple unsteady steps, an arm coming up to rub over his face as he sniffed, the sound loud in an uncommonly quiet night. "Yeah, yeah, I'm walkin'... I'm walkin'," he muttered, waving a hand back behind him to shoo them away from him.

Despite his slow gait, it was clear the man was certainly inebriated. Jesse could hardly walk a straight line and every now and then, had to reach out to steady himself using the shop fronts that he passed by. Slowly and surely, heading in the direction of the cheap motel nearby because he had overdone it tonight. The ranch was too far to walk it — honestly, he wasn't even sure its direction at the moment — and sure, he might drive home after a few beers all the time but drunk? Several bottles deep in hard liquor?

Nah, even Jesse knew that'd be a really fucking stupid idea. He needed that piece of shit truck.

As he stumbled on, pushing messy curls from his eyes, Jesse looked about the eerily quiet streets with that customary frown. For some reason, the heebie jeebies had settled over him and there didn't seem to be a cause for it. Things were just too quiet and dark and... strange. The man was willing to believe it was probably the liquor's doing, that it preyed on his paranoias at whatever damn hour this was... But then he stopped, because up ahead there was a body laying by the curb.

"The fuck?" He squinted, inching closer cautiously. "Hey," he barked at them, assuming it was someone else in worser shape than he was. A couple more feet forward, however, Jesse started recognizing features. And blood.

Maia was visiting the Jukebox before heading out to the Summer Festival. The festival seemed fun, never having been at a town that seemed to go all out for festivals like this, but she promised Jesse she was going to think about picking up a few days at Jukebox Junction and she wanted to meet with the owners to see if that was something they would like too. The couple were sweet and were all aboard with Maia coming on and were just about to shake hands when there was a loud crash coming from the front room.

Maia was quick to run up front only to be greeted by a mob that was overturning the whole bar. Others started running out or trying to get help but Maia tried to jump in and stop them herself. She was greeted by some of the patrons by being staked with some broken chairs. Luckily they missed all the vital parts but it was enough to pin her down on the ground with a stake in her shoulder. Not to mention there was someone who had rubbed something into the wounds so Maia was left weakened and could barely stay conscious to fight back.

"I don't want this jello." She pushed the green artificially flavored goo away from her untouched plate. They were so adamant that she needed to eat to get strong and heal fully. Visually she appeared mostly fine, she could still feel the blade sawing at her wings like a gut punch that stole her breath each time she remembered. She hadn't exposed her back since coming to, keeping her wings hidden, her back covered while she tried to piece together all she had seen with the forced vision. The fact another of her kind had done this to her made Aiyla want to scream, to break anything she could get her hands on- full of a not-unfamiliar anger and grief that she thought she had put to rest years ago- turns out ignoring it doesn't uncomplicate it, send it away.

Moments from breaking down, hot tears spilled quickly down her cheeks, if only for the moment it took Aiyla to realize she had a visitor. Not just any, Meena. She sat up straighter, discreetly attempting to fix her face, dry the fretful tears, and put on the bravest face she could muster. Every visitor was a name crossed off her list, a person whose death she'd not warned with a harrowing scream. "Hey." She said unnaturally cheerful as she forced a practiced smile. "Who was it?" She asked the next breath, a serious concern for the life she'd called out for before her attacker attempted to sever her wings with iron and had left her bleeding and burning.

𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕪 𝕘𝕣𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕤-𝕞𝕠𝕠𝕣𝕖

he was born thirty-four years ago, is a werewolf, lives in white oaks as a music producer and private guitar lessons teacher, and is in no pack. he looks an awful lot like rory culkin.

"I'm living like a landmine Waiting to explode I'm ticking like a time bomb Ready to go I'm a danger to myself and everybody else."

tw: abandonment, anger issues, bullying, violence, alcohol, car accident, hit and run, attack, injury, hospital

Avery was left in his biological father and his husband's care when he was only a baby, being the result of a one night stand, Avery's mom never felt like she was fit for the role and so she tracked Avery's dad down and left the baby with him. Avery lived a very happy childhood making no distinction between his biological father and his partner, to Avery they were both dad, both his own flesh and blood. Despite this, there was always something troubling the boy, he was loved, cared for, yes, but in a way, he felt unwanted, because he could never understand his mother's actions, and the fact she never tried looking for him, check on how he was doing, even after many years, refusing any contact left Avery with this opened wound he hasn't been able to fully close. It was when he reached his teenage years the problems began, while Avery was always a sweet, kind person, he also struggled with impulse control and anger issues, due to the never knowing his mother and her side of the family, but also this being something that runs in the family as his father struggled with the same problems. Avery would get in fights at school he couldn't stand being bullied and would never back down when someone was not nice to him, also defending those who were bullied, though mostly this was an excuse to let some of the rage out. Avery's parents did their best to help him trough this issues, while one would sit down and talk to him, teaching how do deal with all those feelings, the other would help him find a way to gain more control of those impulses trough music... and that's how Avery fell even harder for it, latter becoming a music producer and playing guitar in a friend's band. So, his life was pretty good, Avery felt he had enough with his many friends and family, he was happy, and then...one night...everything changed... It was after a band's performance, Avery had a little more to drink than usual, which lead him to notice someone, and while he never really cared much for a relationship, love, sex, had honestly never been something that present in his life, there was something about this girl, he couldn't tell what, but Avery found himself agreeing to spend the night with her... on the way to her home an accident happened... they hit something with the car, Avery couldn't just allow her to keep driving and let whatever it was to die on the side of the road so he got out of the car to check. And that's what doomed him... He didn't had time to check what was the animal they hit, something come running out of the woods, something big...next thing he knows, the beast is on top of him, Avery feels claws, and teeth and...the car rushing away, she left him, she left him to die... He doesn't know what happened, who found him, all that Avery remembers is waking up in the hospital, his parents worried sick by his bedside... And Avery's body began to change... he couldn't explain what was happening, his senses were sharper, noises were hurting his ears and the rage...oh the rage...it was just too much to keep in... After a fight with his dad turned violent, Avery knew he needed to go, seek help, he had just hurt one the men he loved the most in the whole world, he was changing, becoming something he didn't like, he hurt his family! The rage was taking over and it felt not even working on his music was helping, not like before. So Avery left, to work on himself and figure out what he was becoming...living in Greywood for the past month helped him figure out what was happening, and now Avery hopes to find others like him, others that can help him gain the control over his powers he needs. Because there's no way he's coming back to his family and risk hurting them again... Or even wrose...

“what power did he attain when settling in greywood?”

None.

Thalia hadn’t thought twice when the ERT staff when she’d been asked if she wanted to go in the ambulance with Ophelia to the hospital - she herself was almost completely fine bar a few scraps of glass embedded in the soles of her feet, but that was quickly remedied and then all she could think about was Ophelia. The human was in a terrible state, but even upon inspection by the medical staff in the ambulance, her body was beginning to knit itself back together slowly. It was a sign of her new supernatural strength, and Thalia thanked her lucky stars for that - without that strength, Ophelia would’ve been in trouble. 

The diagnosis was lengthy and grim - a broken arm, the bone having ruptured the skin, various other broken bones, a dislocated hip, three cracked ribs, fractured shoulder, a broken nose, a concussion, and the cherry on the cake - a few quite deep wounds from a mixture of glass, the impact of the wall and the fangs of the beast. Thalia had stood silently by her side as the medical staff had worked on her, her colder hand in the human’s warm one. The steady pulse of her heartbeat was the only thing that gave Thalia any reassurance, and she stayed frozen like that for what felt like hours, observing, eyes darting up to Ophelia’s unconscious face every few minutes.

Once Ophelia was fixed up as best she could, the medical team observing that she was already beginning to heal, they left Thalia and her to be, and Thalia sank exhaustedly into the seat next to Ophelia’s bed, head dropping forward into her free hand as she began to cry. She wasn’t normally one to cry so easily, but the combination of what she had seen, the worry she felt for Ophelia and the others, and the impact of the green mist overwhelmed her, and she sobbed quietly, hunched over the frail body of the human, hand still fixed in hers, tattered dress hanging in shreds around her bare feet.

Things were going well - in retrospect, she should have realised that things were going too well, and it was bound to crumble at some time.

She'd thrown Veronica a birthday party, one Demarco had to miss the start of due to agreeing to help someone practice before she'd decided to throw the party. She'd been the one to push for him to go to the practice - pointing out the party was bound to still be going when he finished, so he could simply join them later. When she noted it had been a while since she had any contact with Demarco, she excused herself from the party to head outside, going into her bag to dig her phone out to call and ask when he thought he'd be there. A text could have done the same job, but she thought the constant ringing of a call would garner more attention that one buzz for a text message.

Smiling as her hand wrapped around the phone, she went to pull it out - noticing the shadow approaching a beat too late to do anything about it. Before she had time to truly register what was happening, her grip on the phone loosened, sending the device crashing to the ground, as a hand moved to cover her mouth. Whoever happened to be behind her, pulled her further into the alley beside the club she'd rented for the night - her mind in overdrive, playing over exactly what had happened the last time someone had attacked her from behind. A worse thought struck when she remembered her entire reason for being outside - Demarco. Demarco who could show up at any time, and walk into a situation he couldn't walk back out of.

Squirming more in the stranger's arms trying in vain to get back to her phone, to come up with some excuse to keep Demarco away - she froze as the thought of Demarco brought up another array of memories. After him repeatedly 'suggesting' that she let him teach her a few moves 'in case she ever needed them' - she'd finally relented, albeit it with an eyeroll and a proclamation that she'd never need to protect herself. That's what he was for - him and the security her father paid to follow her around whenever he thought she needed it. Security she'd refused to let come anywhere near the party and ruin the mood.

Closing her eyes to focus on nothing but Demarco, and the few things she had taken in while he taught her some things, she took a deep breath to calm herself - promptly stomping on the strangers foot with her heel to get them to keel over, before throwing her elbow back to hit them in the face. Using the split second their grip had loosened to her advantage, she slipped out of their arms - content with running away, until a surge of anger hit her.

While there was a chance it was a completely random occurrence, she'd place her money on it being very intentional. Either her monster had gotten bored of mere threats, and wanted to remind her that he could get to her - or worse Demarco and Veronica, the only people she'd protect over herself. Or it was Demarco's monster, deciding if his son was big enough to fight back now - he may as well find some other way to hurt him.

Before she had time to think about her choices, she'd spun on her heel - sprinting back towards the other clad in all black, practically throwing herself on to them, the force knocking them both over. The action seemed to stun the other, giving her enough time to get in the best position - months worth of pent up anger and pain, coming out as her fits hit them in a speed that would have impressed her - if she was conscious enough of her actions to realise what was happening. Eventually, the other seemed to snap back into action, using their larger stature to gain the upper hand - scream leaving her as they began hitting back. Eyes slamming shut as they raised their closed fist, she tried desperately to try and find a way to avoid any more blows. Blows that never came.

Scrambling away, she shot back to attention, opening her eyes to survey exactly what was happening. The person she'd been fighting lay on the ground a little away from her - her focus was on the person still on their feet. The person she was always relieved to see - but a relief that seemed tenfold at that moment.

Using the burst of adrenaline seeing Demarco gave her, she ran over to him, throwing herself into his arms - grasping on to him as though loosening her grip any would make him disappear. Only noticing she'd been crying when she felt his shirt grow damp, she sniffled slightly, trying to pull herself together so not to worry him more than he already would be.

Is this cannon? You'll never know lol

CW: beating, attack at night, blood mention, mentioned pet whumpees.

Mason locked the shop door behind him and pulled out his phone. Long day, with another long one ahead of him tomorrow. This one chick had come in with her pet to be retrained but it turned out it wasn’t even her pet, so now he had to contact the authorities and get it all straightened out.

He sighed and turned to leave. There wasn’t really anyone around this late, most headed home a couple hours ago. It was easier this way in his opinion, since he would miss most of the rush hour traffic. Sadly it meant that the stores were probably closed already, so he wouldn’t be able to get Rudy that new shampoo he meant to pick up.

Speaking of his pets, he flipped over to his camera app to check up on them. As he did so, he thought he heard a twig snap behind him. He paused and looked back.

No one there.

He shrugged and turned back to his phone, content to walk down the little path to his car. The camera was hooked up to a little treat dispenser that had a speaker in it, so he could talk to them. Rudy looked like he was asleep on the couch while Clyde was messing with one the toys he left out. He tabbed over to a different app, but before he could even open it something struck him from behind.

Mason fell forward, arms barely stopping his fall. His phone clattered a foot away, back panel popping off.

“What the-” a boot slammed into his shoulder blades keeping him pinned to the pavement. He grunted and rolled over. He could fight back, he was a big guy. Whatever this robbery-attack-whatever-it-was was about to go very wrong.

Another kick, this one to his face.

Mason’s head snapped to the side and he cried out. Everything was blurry, hard to focus. He tried to put his hands up to defend himself, but a sneaker heel ground them back.

More kicks to his side, his legs, his stomach. One knocked the wind out of him entirely and he gasped for air. There was a small pause and the man was able to roll onto his stomach again, trying to curl up to protect himself.

“Wait! Wait! I don’t, my, my wallet’s in the car! I don’t have anything! My phone broke!” He tried to sit up, tried to see who was attacking him.

All he saw was a flash of light hair and the sole of a shoe.

~

When the man collapsed down, bloody nosed and unconscious, the attacker stalked back towards the only other car in the parking lot. It was dark, secluded here. No one would see what happened, and Mason would be fine until he woke up. It was a safe neighborhood.

Charlie sat in his car and took a deep breath. Part of him was tempted to kick off his shoes and leave them here, to not track blood around, but he thought against it. Carefully, he pulled them off and put them in an empty plastic shopping back before he drove off.