#*i made this mistake and holy shit it's been two years what the fuck?
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PLS I must know more about vide noir
wip ask game (pls)
tysm for the ask :D
for the uninitiated, vide noir is my series for the Shit's Haunted pt ii electric boogaloo (CHTHONIC being pt i electric. fun), which is essentially "coruscant is haunted yes but what if fox is ALSO haunted" you know, for laughs. don't--uhhh don't look at the date of the last update. just don't look at it.*
ANYWAYS THE THIRD PART, currently titled [legato], is going to feature one of my favorite canon-character-but-feels-like-oc guys, feemor retasse (last name and inspiration lovingly borrowed from @deniigi's absolutely WONDERFUL feemor fics). fox may be haunted but that isn't his fucking problem! now? it's feemor's!
There were no more natural water sources, and especially nothing like running water this far down on Coruscant. But Fox could smell it. His shining black armor passed through the water without a ripple. But he could feel the salt-sand grit of it at the back of his mouth. How long had he been half-swimming in the dark like this?
The Jedi shook Fox off his tail, then doubled back when Fox was still trying to figure out whether he should keep slogging forward or report back to the Chancellor’s office and swallow the consequences as best he could. He turned back around and the Jedi was there again, behind him now, studying him with a strange twist to his mouth.
“Huh,” the Jedi said, straw-pale hair shining faintly in the bioluminescent lamplight from a distant street corner. He still held the hilt of his sword in one hand, but the fingers wrapped around it were lax. “I thought you were—never mind. What can I do for you, trooper?”
Fox didn’t answer; the Dream demanded no words of him, which is what he liked best about it. He brought his blaster up and got one, two, three shots off.
#*i made this mistake and holy shit it's been two years what the fuck?#also dr mattress if u would rather ur tumblr name here not associated with ur other ao3 acc i apologize and will edit accordingly#vide noir#wip ask game#ask games#cal u are the best ... <3#commander fox#coruscant
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Hii good evening. I love your writing can u please write abt colby being jealous? Like possessive type of jealous can be anything like smut. Love youu!
When the party’s over
Pairing: Colby Brock x Fem!Bestfriend Reader
This is a part two of I just want to feel
Summary: You and Colby had started dating only a few months ago and for the most part it was good, but we all have our flaws, don’t we? For Colby, it was jealousy.
Warning(s): Mature language and Themes, Slight smut! Talk of relationship trauma, kissing, choking, etc
“Y/N, hurry up! We’re gonna be late!” Sam yells up the stairs, startling you and causing your hand to slip, dragging the lip liner pencil to smudge on your face.
“Ugh! Kiss my ass, Sam!” You yell angrily, placing your hands on the bathroom sinks countertop. You were already having a stressful day as it was and Sam rushing you only made you feel worse. You couldn’t even get your makeup right.
“You know that’s my job, right?” You turn your head only for a slip second to see your boyfriend leaning against the doorway, a smirk plastered across his lips. You roll your eyes and move to grab a cloth to remove the lip liner from your face, a very deep and clearly stressed sigh escaping your mouth. “Come on, he’s just trying to be early. No reason to get all upset over it” His words make you stop and glare at him, not even an ounce of laughter coming from you while he was all smile.
“Go downstairs, Colby” He chuckles, standing straight and walking over to where you’d been in the bathroom. You just stared at him, watching his eyes take in the mess of your lip that had clearly pissed you off.
“Hmm, so this is what’s got you so worked up?” He lifts your chin, taking the small cloth out of your hand. He pushes your hair out of your face gently before lightly dabbing it onto your skin, trying his hardest not to take off more of your makeup. “Sorry, I’m not that good at this” He laughs nervously, but to his relief you couldn’t help but smile. “There she is” he pulls the cloth away once it’s all gone, still holding the other side of your face with his free hand.
“Thanks” you smile, grabbing the liner again to fix the recent mistake, this time getting it perfectly the way you want. “Yes! Oh my god finally!” You laugh, putting lip gloss on to finish it off. Colby’s watching you with a smile on his face through the mirror, he was just happy you were happy.
“You ready to go now?” He asks and you smile at him through the mirror, turning to him with a shrug.
“Almost” You grab his hand, leaning against the counter as you pull him toward you with a small closed mouth smile—one that got you in trouble all the time.
“You are so beautiful, Y/N” Your eyes soften at his words, pupils growing bigger with love as he cups your face, leaning down to press his soft lips against yours. Oh, the butterflies you had in your stomach every time you kissed. Colby had such a hold on you, even after all these years.
“Oh, come on! I’ve been screaming for 10 minutes we have to leave and you two are in here swapping spit?!” The two of you pull away at the sound of Sam’s voice, realizing he was standing in the doorway with an angry expression. “We have to pick up kat, so will you two please save it for later!”
There’s a long silence when he walks out of the room, and the two of you don’t even move until you hear the door shut.
“Holy fuck” the two of you burst out in laughter, holding onto each other for support. Sam loved you guys together, but you know how new couples are.
They simply do not care.
“Did you see his face!” You laugh at Colby’s words and nod your head, moving out of the bathroom to grab your purse from his bed. “Oh my god, that shit was fucking hilarious” Colby’s laugh starts to calm down after you grab your bag, and you look at him with a smile.
“Don’t mention it in the car, alright? You know how he gets” you walk toward the door where Colby held it open for you, shrugging his shoulders.
“Wouldn’t dream of it”
You and Colby had been dating for a little over four months, starting when you slept with each other that night of their truth or drink video. The two of you told Sam fairly quick obviously, but waited until he returned from his trip that week so you could down time alone without anyone knowledge.
However, after you told Sam and Kat, you became more involved in their videos than usual. You’d do drunk lives with the other couple and go to some of the haunted places with them, so the whole internet knew of your relationship at this point.
You and Colby were very public. It didn’t take you long to realize how possessive and protective Colby was, but even with the unnecessary thoughts that would run through his head, you still found it so fucking hot that he couldn’t bare to see another man’s eyes set on you at all.
He didn’t care if you wore revealing outfits. If some asshole was staring at you, he’d make it clear you were his.
One of Colbys main love languages is definitely physical touch. Wherever you were, he always needed to be touching you somehow to know you were safe. When you’d stand next to him, he’d always hold a firm grip on your waist, and would almost always pull you into his lap just so he could cuddle into you.
And every time you got drunk,
Like every time
The night would always end with the two of you naked in Colby’s bed, cuddled together. You couldn’t keep your hands off each other when your drunk, it felt impossible to.
“There you guys are! I was starting to think you bailed!” Stas’s voice is enough to pull your mind from itself, and you watch as she hugs Kat and Sam.
Stas was a cool person, but everytime you saw her it always felt so awkward. You remember seeing her and Colby close for years, he would even get mad at you if you asked about what was going on between them. So you had to admit, you felt intimidated by her.
“Oh my god, Y/N. You look gorgeous, this color is so pretty on you” She pulls me into a hug, huge smile on her face as she does. Okay, maybe I can’t be that paranoid.
“Walk right past me, why don’t you?” Colby’s words sort of send a sharp pain through my chest. Why did he need a hug from stas? You’re overthinking right? I mean, he knows how you feel about their friendship and what’s happened before… you have a reason to be cautious, right?
You watch painfully as she hugs him, the two of them laughing. It almost makes you roll your eyes, but Sam nudges your arm with his own, nodding his head over to where the rest of the people were. He could tell you felt uncomfortable—he always could, but he didn’t want it to get in the way of you having a great night.
“Come on. Kris and Celina have been waiting to see you!” Even through your slight bit of jealousy, Kat’s words make you smile and feel better. You loved Kris and Celina so much, you were surprised they had come since they live kind of far.
The party was sort of a celebration party for the boys hitting 10 million before they go on their way to the conjuring house in a month or two, so everyone they’ve collaborated with was invited.
Though Kris and Celina were your favorite.
“Oh my god!” Kris screams through the crowd, pushing past everyone to get to you and Kat. Her drink was shaking in her hand with every step she took, you were surprised it didn’t spill when she pulled you into a firm hug. “How are you! I’ve been waiting for you to get here”
“I didn’t even know you were here, this feels surreal” You laugh, pulling away from her with a smile. You hadn’t seen Kris for months, you weren’t even sure if she knew you and Colby had been together. You were out toward friends and public but nobody could tell online. You had recently started posting more pictures together but nothing romantic—you and Colby wanted to figure out the best way to let the world know.
“You look so beautiful, Y/N. You do look like you could use a drink too, though” Kat hums, bumping her shoulder to your own with a smirk on her face, handing you a white claw from wherever she had gotten it while you were talking. “Celina is around here somewhere, probably running the alcohol because Seth keeps drinking the one she likes” she rolls her eyes and Kat laughs, leaning against Sam who had now been standing behind her.
“We just got here and you’ve got a drink in her hand already?” You can smell his cologne and notice he’s behind you before he even spoke, though Kris didn’t even see him until he said those words, and just as she was about to reply, her eyes fell quickly to where his hands fell on your waist.
Colby’s hand laid firm on the side of your waist, holding you close to his body while he took your drink for his own, taking a small sip still waiting for her to say something.
It almost makes you laugh how confused she looks. Everyone who has ever met you guys, knew something was up between you and Colby, but to show up like this? It took her by surprise.
“The night won’t be young for long, Colbs” Kris shrugs it off, tilting the last drops of her drink into her mouth. “I’m all out, do you want to grab another one with me, Y/N? Maybe we’ll find Celina” I nod, looking at Colby before heading with her.
“You want the usual?” He smirks, his smile being enough to answer. You’re stunned when he leans down and presses a gentle peck against your lips, in front of all your friends. It almost doesn’t feel real.
He moves his hand closer to your lips brushing against your ear, “don’t take too long” Jesus.
You could feel the feeling between your legs already build as he pulls away, releasing your waist from his grip. Oh god, everyone was look at you now.
But fuck, that just made it ten times hotter.
Once you’re far away from the group, Kris almost immediately grabs you by your hand, pulling you aside to blend in with the crowd more. “Um hello! You and Colby?!” She wide eyes you, hurt she didn’t know sooner. Everyone else was chill about it, so she felt she was the only one who didn’t know.
You press your lips together and nod, trying to stop the pink undertones from flushing your face. “It was a few months ago, we haven’t really made it public to social media yet” she scoffs running her hands down her face with a sigh. “What? Is something wrong-“
“I owe Celina twenty bucks—ugh!” You pause, mouth slightly open at your friend.
“You bet on me?” She shrugs, pulling her purse to the front of her body to search for the money. “Kris!”
“Celina and I were debating because after spending the last time with you guys, things just seemed too tension filled but I tried to put my mind aside and think-“
“Y/N?!” Speak of the devil.
Celina wraps her arms around you quicker then you can even reply, squealing with excitement. You could barely hear her over the music, but her loud demeanor was always enough to get by.
“When did you get here? And why didn’t you come get me, Kris!” She looks over at the blonde, and before she could question why she was grabbing money out of her purse, Celina was already and laughing mess.
“Okay we get i-“
“I KNEW IT!” She exclaimed happily, snatching the money out of Kris’s hand. “How long?! Oh, I can’t wait to see how cute you guys look together!” She shakes your shoulders which ultimately makes you laugh, even thought Kris was glaring at you.
“How are you mad at me for betting on you when she did the same!” Kris argues.
“Cause you lost” You shrug, turning to walk toward the drinks table.
“Alright, I think it’s time for a different game!” Seth announces, making the rest of the group cheer. You could hear them from the bathroom pretty clearly, and you already knew Colby was the first to volunteer for the game as always. It was almost twelve and you were getting pretty tired to say the least so you were sort of counting down the hours until you guys left. You celebrated hard and now you were drunk, but you wanted Colby to enjoy his and Sam’s day so you didn’t say anything.
You close the door to the bathroom and glance in the room that held most of the people, it looked like they were playing cup pong? You couldn’t see clearly so you didn’t know, but instead of checking it out, you headed into the other room to sit on the couch, water in hand.
There were a few people spread out along the area but nobody you knew—or at least until a somewhat familiar face appeared next to you.
“Sick of the party already?” You look over at the man beside you, watching as he sits a small distance away. You knew this guy but from where? He looked so familiar… he must’ve saw the look of confusion on your face because he couldn’t help but laugh, telling you. “Christian. I’m seth’s friend—I met you awhile ago so I can understand the confusion”
There it is. You knew you recognized him from somewhere.
“Sorry, I’m just drunk” you sigh and he chuckles, shrugging his shoulders.
“Aren’t we all?” He holds up his beer. There was silence for a little bit, you didn’t really have any interest in talking to him when you wondered what Colby had been doing. The last you saw him, he was with Sam and kat, but also with Stas.
Why couldn’t you get that idea out of your head? The idea that Stas and Colby still have something… that maybe she was better than you in his eyes and he just settled for you because he couldn’t have her?
You were angry—they had been close all night, always laughing even when you were next to him.
If he could talk to someone he knew you were cautious of, you could talk to someone too.
“So what are you doing over here if you’re having a good time? Only the loners wall sit” You question, taking a sip of your water. He chuckles at your question.
“Wanted to say hi, I guess” He looks over at you with a smile, one that told you he was trouble, one that should’ve made you say you had a boyfriend.
But you were so angry, so upset at Colby for that night that you didn’t even care. You were just talking—that was no issue.
“Why are you over here alone then, hm? I always see you with Sam and Colby” hearing his name come out of Christian’s mouth made your stomach twist. What were you doing? Your boyfriend was celebrating his big accomplishment and all you can think about is how close he is with Stas. You shouldn’t be talking to this boy, and if you felt tired you should let Colby know.
“Speak of the devil!” Christian laughs and stands to his feet, causing your attention to shift toward where he walked to. Colby stood in the doorway with a clearly annoyed face, one only you could really tell was there. The two still dap each other up and act friendly, but you can tell Colby is still on edge.
You get up and walk out of the room, determined to go back to the bathroom where you’d been before to at least try and drown out the loud noise ringing in your head.
But of course, the door was stopped from closing.
“A little privacy maybe?” You mug your boyfriend as he pushes his way into the bathroom, shutting and locking it behind him before he even looked at you. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you being so-“
Before you could finish, his large hand was already wrapped around your arm, pulling you closer to him which bringing your arm up to his eye view. You furrow your eyebrows, what was he looking at?
“Where’d you get this bruise from” He mumbles, clearly still mad but waiting for you to answer about this new mark on your body. “Y/N”
“I fell earlier, when I was going to get a drink with Kris and Celina. It’s just a bruise, Colby” His jaw visibly clenches at your words, like he doesn’t believe for a second that’s what happened—which he didn’t.
“I know every inch of your body, Y/N” He looks at you, his voice stern. “And I know this bruise wasn’t there before”
Is it hot in here?
His words send shivers through your spine, his tone cut through you like a sharp knife, and you could tell he was ready to look for Christian again to blame.
“Baby, I promise you—it was from falling” You place a hand on the side of his face, hoping he’d let it go. “You can even ask Kris and Celina”
“What were you doing with Christian then?” You sigh, releasing his face and crossing your arms in front of him. He knew you hated when he did this—no matter how hot he looked whenever he was jealous.
“Colby, he is a friend”
“You barely know him, Y/N. Christ, he was looking at you like he wanted to fucking eat you, for gods sake” You roll your eyes and turn around, leaning over to the mirror to check your makeup. “Now you’re not even looking at me?”
“You’re making a big deal out of nothing, Colby. Why do you even care who I’m talking to? You’ve been busy giggling with Stas all goddamn night” you fix your hair, refusing to look at the boy behind you through the mirror.
He chuckles, “so what? You see me talking to Stas so you go talk to fucking Christian? Out of all people—“
“It’s not like you were talking to me!” You snap, turning toward him. You weren’t even upset anymore, just pure angry at the fact he couldn’t see why you were mad at him. “You kept a hand on my waist or stayed close to me but you haven’t even kissed me all party except for when we got here!”
“I know something happened between you and Stas before we started dating, but not knowing what it was always makes me feel like you don’t want me to find out for a reason”
“So if you won’t act like I’m yours in front of her, why should I act like I’m yours in front of Christian? Or anyone else!”
“I’m going home. I’ll call a fucking Uber” you grab the door hand and twist it open, pushing past your silent boyfriend to get out quicker.
But none of it lasted long—especially the part about you going home.
You let out a silent gasp when his hands grab onto you again, this time pushing you against the bathroom’s counter with a hand roughly at your waist and one firm against your throat—lips attached to yours as soon as you hit the tile.
He slips his tongue past your lips, and you willingly give up fighting against him at this moment. It should’ve made you mad, but you knew he was jealous and so were you, and right now you both needed this.
You moan against his lips as he lifts you up, sitting you on the cold marble counter and pushing your legs apart so he could stand between them. This might’ve sounded bad to someone else, but one thing you and Colby were amazing at, was makeup sex.
“You’re mine, Sweetheart. I don’t share—especially not with some loser like Christian” He mumbled against your lips, just before moving down to trail his on your skin. “Stas has never been what I wanted, Y/N”
“You look at her like it…” you sigh, fingers combing through his hair as he presses soft kisses against your neck.
“I’ve wanted you since we were sophomores in high school, Y/N. I’ve only ever looked at you like that”
“I love you, Colby. I just want to make sure you love me too” Your words escape in a slight moan, feeling his hand reach under your skirt. Jesus, you were supposed to be mad!
“Mmm” He hums, pressing his thumb against your already soaked center. Colby found it pointless to talk, he knew he could give everything to you in this moment—he didn’t care if that’s how he had to prove he loved you. “Always so fucking wet”
“Colby, the lock-“
“I love you, Y/N. I should’ve never made you feel the way you did” his voice trails as his lips do too, all the way until he reaches your thighs. His eyes gaze up at you, and smirk pulling at his lips as he opens your legs wider. “But I can’t just let you walk out without punishing you for talking to that dick”
This was okay…had to make it short because my keyboard is glitching💀
#smut#celebrities#sam and colby fanfiction#sam golbach fanfic#sam golbach smut#sam and colby smut#sam golbach#sam and colby#colby brock fic#colby brock fluff#colby x reader#colby brock x reader#colby brock fanfic#colby brock smut#colby brock#colby brock angst
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Bonten - Debbie Jelinsky (Afv) (M) Reader
🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.
Okay! So, I decided that the business partner, named Matsumoto Jun because I can't keep calling him 'Business Partner', is embezzling money from Bonten. Bonten is planning to kill him but the reader beats them to it. I hope this is what you wanted 🫓Flatbread Anon. — Benny🐰
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
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Sakūmou [Name], now known as Matsumoto [Name] has always been sensitive and delicate in outward appearance. His wide doe eyes and pretty smiles have always drawn in those who look for love in someone that seemingly needs their protection.
It really is such a shame though, that they had no clue what kind of monster they had just let into their life. They had no idea just how mush blood the unassuming and fragile looking man had on his hands.
And this too was the case for Matsumoto Jun, [Name]'s latest husband.
Matsumoto Jun, 46 years old, owns Matsumoto Industrial, a construction company that became very successful after gaining a partnership with Bonten.
Jun met his darling husband at a high end bar a year ago where he became absolutely smitten upon first laying his eyes upon the fragile looking [Name]. He was quick to strike up a conversation involving his business successes and his vast accumulation of wealth in an attempt to impress h/c-ette, and oh, was that the biggest mistake he ever made.
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"Holy shit."
Says a shocked Sanzu as he looks through the window of the building opposite to them with the binoculars in hand.
"What is it?"
Kakucho groans in annoyance as he glances at the pinkette he was partnered with.
The two were sent to stake out the condo of Matsumoto Jun; one of Bonten's business partners who was suspected of embezzling money from Bonten; to make absolutely sure that they were in fact embezzling. It'd be a waste to kill off a good source of income over a false observation, after all.
So the two of them settled in on the roof of the building directly across from their target's condo and waited.
"Some guy just knocked 'im the fuck out. Well, looks like our jobs gonna be done for us. Let's go, I'm expecting some of the good shit later."
The pinkette smirked as he began to pack up some of the equipment brought with them.
"What? No! What if he ends up being fine after this? How would Mikey react to a failed job from you of all people? We should stay here and wait it out."
The partially blind man argues as he snatches the bag Sanzu was repacking and puts it off to the side.
The pinkette growls, muttering a small 'fine', before he looks through the binoculars again. He watches the unidentified man passed the window several times; grabbing several items and bringing them to another room out of view. The man then drags the unconscious target slowly across the room, clearly having trouble, before stopping midway and turning his head to the window. Sanzu flinches as it seems the man looks right into his eyes before he approaches the window and quickly closes the curtains.
"Shit. Did you get a picture of 'im?"
Sanzu asks as he quickly resumes packing up their equipment.
"Already sent it to Kokonoi."
"Matsumoto [Name]. Other names being Sakūmou [Name], Yamamoto [Name], Sato [Name], and [Surname] [Name].
He's currently married to your target, Matsumoto Jun, but has been married three times before now. Sakūmou Kenjirou, Yamamoto Taiga and Sato Shuichi were both found mysteriously dead in their homes with all of their finances depleted.
This guy seems to be a serial killer so you both need to be fucking quick; we can't loose out on any of our income, you hear me! I'm sending the Haitani's too, they should be there any minute now."
Kokonoi says quickly through the phone, belting out information as fast as possible as their time is running out.
On cue the Haitanis pulled in front the condo, meeting Sanzu and Kakucho on the side walk as the two fill them in on the vital information while they make their way inside.
"You remember our first date, Jun? Oh, it was so magical! You took me out to dinner on top of the Tokyo Tower and to top the night off, you got me this gorgeous mink coat!"
[Name] coos at his bound and gagged husband as he gracefully walks around him in a circle, tracing his hand across his chest, shoulders and back as he holds a pistol with the other hand.
The h/c-ette runs his fingers over the soft, expensive furred coat that he wore, smiling fondly at the memory. He stops behind the balding man and rests his hand on his shoulder, giving a harsh squeeze as he digs his manicured nails in.
"But it's not enough. You took me into your home, you provided for me, but did you love me? Really love me? ...So I— I killed. So I maimed. So I destroyed one innocent life after another. But aren't I a human being? Don't I yearn and... ache and... shop? Don't I deserve your love ...your money?"
[Name] whines out to him, face drawn into a pout as he swings the gun in his hand around with each enunciation of his words. His e/c eyes becoming glassy with unshed tears and his cheeks and nose flushing a soft pink hue.
"Mmnph hhmp hn ghmp hngh hmp"
The bound Jun attempts to speak through his gag to now avail, but [Name] can see how he generally feels from his confused and fearful expression.
The h/c-ette reaches forward and yanks the gag from his husband's mouth, allowing him to speak.
"I— I don't know what you mean by killing... But Baby, I‐I do love you, I promise! I still have so much to spend on you too. Just untie me a‐and it's all water under the bridge."
Jun pleads, his voice shaky as he tries to reason with his homicidal lover.
[Name] stares at him blankly; clearly unimpressed that he hadn't bothered to check on his finances and see that he was dirt poor now that [Name] had cleaned out all of his bank accounts in record time. Might as well let him know.
"You don't actually, I've made sure of that. You don't even have a penny to your name as of now, my darling Jun."
"B‐But that's— No no it's fine! I'm expecting quite a large s‐sum of money from my sponsor, in fact it should have already been deposited by now."
The bound man belts out in desperation, unknowingly sealing his fate from just that revelation alone.
The h/c-ette sprouts a wide eyed smile as he walks around to the front of the chair. He sits the gun aside on a nearby coffee table and grips both of older man's shoulders as he takes a seat on his lap.
"Oh? How much?"
[Name] asks enthusiastically as he flutters his long gorgeous lashes at Jun, running a finger up and down his chest sensually.
The balding man chuckles nervously as he gives his husband a shaky smile, thanking whatever deity that'll listen for allowing him to be a scumbag and start embezzling money.
"3.8 million. A-All for you, Baby."
"Really?... Well, it's just too bad that I don't believe you, isn't it."
The h/c-ette coos, whispering the last part into Jun's ear, as he runs his finger through what's left of the man's graying hair. He stands quietly before taking up his already cocked gun once again and settling it under his husband's chin, his finger on the trigger.
"3.8 million. A‐All for you, Baby."
"Really?..."
"Well shit, there's the proof."
Rindou whispered as he watches the seemingly resolved hostage situation from his crouched position next to the other three executives.
"You think he'll kill him or wil we have to step in and do it? He look pretty satisfied, right now."
Kakucho asks quietly, glancing at his coworkers for their input.
"I don't care either way, really. Hey, you think we can keep him? He's pretty hot, I'd love to get a taste of that."
Ran chuckled, a smirk spreading across his lips as his lustfully eyes trace up and down [Name]'s figure, undressing him with his eyes.
Sanzu groans as he stands abruptly, drawing the attention of the other three. Kakucho attempts to pull him back down but the pinkette aggressively shakes his arm off.
"Let's get this shit over with already. I' just remembered I've got some leftover Blow in my office."
He grumbles in annoyance, he's been sober for way too long and it's really catching up with him now.
BANG!
The sound of a gunshot resonates throughout the condo, the sudden noise startling the four Bonten executives and making them flinch in surprise.
[Name] sighs as he looks at the blood spattered on his once beautiful mink coat before slipping it off his shoulders and tossing it onto the sofa next to his deceased husband.
He looks at Jun's body, his eyes trailing down to his ring adorned hands. Grabbing the rings between his index, middle finger and thumb, the h/c-ette tugs them off of the older man's thick fingers. [Name] smiles, admiring the three rings in his hand for a moment before slipping them into his pocket.
"You know, Jun honey, I would've liked you more if you just gave me the business.—"
The e/c eyed man cood as he stroked his dead husband's bloody cheek.
"—It would've helped if you could've gotten it up as well, but guess it's my fault for marrying a tubby old man, huh."
[Name] stares lovingly at the corpse for a while, stroking his cheek with the backs of his fingers and playing with his blood matted hair.
"Now... What do I do with your body? Hm?"
The h/c-ette asks rhetorically, only to be startled by a voice behind him.
"We'll take the body, pretty.—"
Ran chuckles as he wraps an arm around the e/c eyed man's waist and pulls him in close so the shorters back is flush against his chest.
"—Don't worry, we're not the police, we're Bonten."
And for once, [Surname] [Name] felt like he was prey instead of predator.
🎴•♡•🎴•♡•🎴•♡•🎴•♡•🎴•♡•🎴•♡•🎴•♡•🎴
🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•
Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!
#male reader#tokyo revengers#toyo rev#bonten#tokyo revengers bonten#tokyo rev bonten#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyo revengers x male reader#tokyo rev x male reader#tokyo rev x reader#bonten x male reader#bonten x reader#sanzu x male reader#sanzu x reader#kakucho x reader#kakucho x male reader#ran x reader#ran x male reader#rindou x reader#rindou x male reader#kokonoi x reader#kokonoi x male reader#🫓flatbread anon#hunn1e bunn1e's ask box#ask box#answered#answered anon#answered asks
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Transition journal and documentation: Jan and Feb of 2024
Measurements for January are up, and February will be soon to follow! Tagging @whalesharkcat and @trans4hire here. If you want to be tagged when I post these, let me know! The advice for injections is in the journal below.
Some quick notes to clarify things:
I'm consolidating qualitative observations into my journal. Oftentimes these haven't been easy to cleanly classify into different categories of observation, so I'm not really gonna bother.
As I'm sure you've realized, the timing of these observations isn't consistent. I have a private document with exact date stamps for everything, and these are mostly right at the end of the month. But my levels checks don't match up to this cleanly, so I group them with the closest set of other measurements. Sometimes I don't have one that cleanly fits.
I can't trust myself to measure height anymore, to be blunt. I want to ask the doctor every time but chicken out about it easily.
But anyways.
And now, as a journal, a brief summary of my thoughts on the past two months:
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
*deep breathing*
fuuuuuuuucccckkkkkkkkkk
Okay. So. I'm not gonna list off everything that's happened since the year started. So many independent things started happening, one after the other, that I had to start formatting it as a bulleted list to tell people I know irl what's been going on. Each one has been a crisis on its own- massive emotional events, health problems, health problems in people close to me, transphobic drama with former "friends", academic&research problems, and a resulting mental health spiral. And all of this leading up to my qualifying exams at the end of February, for which I barely scraped by and passed.
But. With all of this. There's silver linings.
The biggest one is that the start of this year has been a stress test of my overall emotional state since starting HRT. I'm not gonna lie- if all of this had happened a year ago, I don't think I would be here now. I either would have completely snapped and done something I regret, or... yeah. But as it stands? I cried. A lot. I isolated a bit. I had mood swings and anxiety and anger and excitement and relief and highs and lows beyond my wildest dreams. It was intense. It was not pretty. But it was cathartic, and healthy. Before this, I would've processed all of this as a generic, stressful, anxiety-ridden malaise, that would've weighed down on me until a breaking point. As it stands, however, I made it. Not in a neat way, not even really in an emotionally stable way, but I made it. And there is no fucking way that would be true pre-HRT. I think I can genuinely say at this point that estrogen has been life saving for me.
In the middle of all this, I switched to injections, right at the start of February. A mistake? Maybe, but I'm too fed up with delaying my progress because "the time isn't right", so I stubbornly refused to delay that change any further. It's a goal I worked out with my provider ahead of time and I stuck to it. So how's that been?
It's been an incredible and WILD experience. I'm on estradiol valerate. For those that don't know, estradiol is conjugated with another compound, which is then cleaved over time in your body to release it. For injections, that results in a peak irculating levels about 1-3 days afer injections. Some people feel it more than others- and holy shit, do I feel it. This has given rise to "the Sundays", because on Sundays, I'm going fucking nuts. My senses are heightened, and I start craving and reacting to physical touch in intense ways. It's not always sexual- while arousal comes easier to me the closer I am to peak, mostly I just become a cuddleslut. It is WILD. I'm also more emotional and cry more easily. Some cis female friends I have confirmed that it mirrors the feelings they get at a certain point in their monthly cycle, so essentially the fluctuating levels are giving me the sensory and emotional effects of a period every week.
The flip side of this is that I feel like shit on Thursdays, like I missed a sublingual dose when I was on that. After the first two weeks, I started taking 2mg sublingual on Wednesday night and Thursday mornings to avoid this, which helped a lot. My provider specifically said this was a good idea, so if you're dealing with that yourself, consider trying it out. I might move to a 5-day injection interval instead, but we'll see.
I've only had one problem with injections so far, which I'm dealing with right now- on my fifth self injection ever, I had unsteady hands and hesitation before stabbing myself, causing a not-great needle stick. Currently, I have a nasty looking injection bruise. Not painful, and healing pretty well, but not fantastic to look at. Self injecting has been intimidating and scary, moreso than I thought it would be. But the actual physical pain is much, MUCH less than I thought it would be, its just that the lizard brain refuses to stab yourself.
If you're thinking of switching to injections, here's a bit of my advice:
keep as many oral/sublingual pills on hand as you can anyways. These will be helpful if you feel your injections aren't carrying you emotionally for the entire interval, or if you don't have an environment where you can inject regularly
If you have a provider, they should provide a nurse tutorial and consultation for you to inject properly. If they don't, try to insist on one. They'll give better advice than I can.
think less, do more. Ideally, the actual moment of the stab should be painless. Be quick and steady about it. The fluid entering feels like pressure and slight burning, but nothing more than that.
vary your injection sites. A doctor or nurse should explain this to you, but this reduces risk of doing what I did and bruising yourself.
be extremely sterile about things. All of the wiping down and sterile technique you'll hear? Don't fuck around with it. Infection is no joke, and absolutely can happen.
Purchase spare needles and syringes from a pharmacist or online. Several reasons for this- one, if you make a mistake and a needle is no longer sterile, you don't want to hesitate about throwing it away. And two... well, let's make a second point about this.
If you want to stock up on estradiol for the future (if you're worried about future access to HRT), this can be easier with injections- but you have to be careful, and you'll need extra needles (for the love of fuck, do not reuse needles). Vials will always have excess medication, because it allows standard volumes to fill and distribute, and it also ensures that needle draws will always be able to be fully submerged. Do NOT try to run your vial out. You WILL run into sterility and contamination issues. That said, vial expiration dates are typically measured from time of first puncture. This will vary, but for me, I was told that the vials are good for 4 weeks after the first puncture. This is overcautious, but not egregiously so. My recommendation would be to use each vial for 1-2 extra punctures, and open the next vial a bit later. Still get prescription refills as frequently as you can. That way, you can stock up on unpucntured vials in case anything happens to your supply. THIS SAID- if you notice ANYTHING wrong with the vial- if the seal isn't containing the fluid properly, if bits of the seal are falling into the medication, if you can see a noticable hole in the seal, DO NOT USE THAT VIAL. Look me in the fucking eye. Do. Fucking. NOT. get sepsis. Do not fuck around with this. The flexibility to be cautious about your vials is a great reason to stock up on a bit extra in the first place.
To anyone in the US, if you're comfortable with doing this to stock up, I would highly, HIGHLY recommend starting this now. Slowly start using your vials for 1-2 punctures extra, stock up unbroken vials. Just in case something bad happens after the elections.
Typically, your medication will come with two sizes of needles- a draw needle (puncture the seal and draw medication into the syringe) and an injection needle. You might want to consider going *slightly* smaller on one or both of those needles. Estradiol is dissolved in a viscous oil as medication, and can be difficult to draw and dispense as a result. But, if you're patient, a smaller gauge might help. For the draw needle, it can help do less damage to the seal and preserve it a bit longer. For the injection needle, if you have a bit more sensitive skin, it might be comforting. Don't deviate too much, though, ESPECIALLY without a medical professional involved.
Remember that I'm not a medical professional, please consult one whenever possible.
I'm still on spiro for now, and I'm continuing it until my next levels check comes back clean. I don't want to erase months of progress getting my levels up by dropping it too early.
Measurement-wise, there hasn't been much change. But I'm starting to realize that the measurements aren't really telling the full story. My breasts look so much larger and, for lack of a better word, breast-like than they did even a couple months ago, but that hasn't been coming through in the measurements very well. I think what's happening is that my fat around my sides is shrinking at the same time my breasts are growing. This is reflected a bit in terms of underbust and waist measurements, but it still seems more dramatic than those are letting on.
Face wise, I think I'm really seeing some changes now. It's hard to put into words, but I'm starting to look more and more androgynous or femme by default, especially if I shave. I'm estatic, honestly, and I hope the trend continues. My chin and nose continue to be problems, but as the structure of the face around them changes, that's becoming less and less true.
I've been getting laser, but so far it's done pretty much nothing. There's lag time, and some of my health issues meant that I had to delay a session and get both sessions at a much lower power than I would've like. I was really hoping to have visible hair removal by June or so, but it looks like that's not happening. That kinda stings, and is a huge blow to my ability to pass by the one-year mark, which has been my target.
I think my boymoding has been holding, for the most part, although its been harder. Even with my sports bras, small bumps are visible under a t shirt, and the face changes won't be unnoticable forever. I've def been more loudly bisexual, and I think most people just write it off as me being fruity. Cis people can also be pretty oblivious, especially when changes are gradual. That being said, I've been coming out slowly to people, giving my usual speech of "I'm still presenting as a man for now, but just so you know this is what's going on", which removes a lot of the pressure and anxiety from boymoding. Still, I haven't told everyone (notably, labmates and family), and my timeline of social transition between June and August seems to be holding steady.
So uh, yeah. If you're curious about anything specifically, I'm an open book, although I may move it to DMs if it gets too personal. Hope that my progress updates are helpful to at least someone!
#trans#transitioning#transgender#trans journal#trans progress#trans documentation#transfemme#trans HRT#trans woman
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So... some of you may have noticed my fics have come to a screeching halt the last couple of months which is not like me and I am here to explain myself.
Babygirl, I have been preparing.
The end of this month is my 1 year anniversary of posting in this fandom, of posting any of my work online after not doing it for like fifteen fucking years and it has brought me so much incandescent joy, I decided I had to do something for it.
(I've also hit like... several milestones which is fucking insane like you all know I'm just some cranky bog witch, right??)
I have been working on my WIPs for over the last two months. All... holy mother of god... like nine of them???
Some of these have been completed, some I am still writing and some are mostly done.
So starting from my anniversary date, 23rd October, every second or third day, I'll be posting a chapter of something.
I have so much material built up this shit could go on until 2024
@hbyrde36 called it my own personal Penny00Dreadful BigBang... and yeah kinda! 😅
I wanted to do this to show just how much I love this community. Your kind words, your support, your unhinged ramblings, your obsessive love, your talent (for free??) it's all amazing it's so amazing and I wanted to explode forth with my love for it so I figured why the fuck not do this stupid idea??😅
All of these will be posted both to tumblr and AO3 so subscribe over there to keep updated or follow me here!
OH! And let me know if you wanna be tagged! If you wanna be tagged for a specific fic or for everything I'll add you, whatever you want.
You've made me so happy and so warm for the last year. The way I know if I'm having a bad day I just need to hop onto this side of tumblr and everything will be peaches and gravy again.
I love you guys so much. 😘🖤
Updated Schedule - (18th Feb 2024)
Fic list with blurbs below the cut, this will (roughly) be the order they're posted in:
Return of The King - COMPLETE
Steddie Vampire AU with a twist! Vampire Steve comes back after falling to the bats. There is two more chapters left and those chapters have been completed.
Comeuppance - COMPLETE
Dustin just wants Steve to be happy. So he tries to parent trap him with Nancy. Clearly they should be together. But Steve's heart doesn't even seem to be in it at all! How is he so bad at this? And Eddie is being less than helpful
Rookie Mistake - COMPLETE
My Steddie Established Relationship Spies AU oneshot that will have a multi-chapter prequel fic coming very soon after!
Eddie is "retired" and Steve has been injured on the job, so he's supposed to be taking it easy. How hard could a walk to the gas station be?
Before He Cheats - COMPLETE
Songfic! Carrie Underwood - Before He Cheats
I literally have no excuse for this one. The rotted brainworms were behind the steering wheel with this one.
One evening, Eddie gets a call from some guy named Steve dropping the news on him that his boyfriend has been cheating on him. With this Steve person and Steve had no idea up until that day.
And Eddie rarely takes that shit lying down.
Steddievember Smut - COMPLETE
No Nut November is here! One can play however he wants. The other just has to wait for December to roll around. I have no other words to describe what this will be, it does what it says on the tin. I blame the STWG discord server. Currently we're looking at four little ficlets for this.
Cat and Mouse - COMPLETE
The Steddie Spies AU Prequel! How they got together and the extreme ups and downs their enemies/rivals to lovers journey goes through. I had so much fun with this one.
And They Were Roommates! - COMPLETE
omg they were roommates.
Steve and Eddie don't hate each other exactly. They just... tolerate each other. But one night Eddie doesn't come home for hours. Long after he's supposed to and it's not like Steve is worried or anything... he's just... concerned for a fellow human being... that's all.
Through The Valley
Post-Apocalyptic AU. Eddie, Dustin and Nancy have a nice little community of survivors outside of Hawkins that they take care of, surviving day to day. Everyone's a little broken, missing the rest of their Party just hoping that one day they'll find each other again.
Devotion
Dungeons and Dragons AU. Steve is the golden boy of the small town of Hawkins. Harrington in name and now a Paladin with his very own oath to hunt down the Bard, the witch Eddie Munson and bring him back to justice under High Priest Henry Creel.
#steddie#stranger things#eddie munson#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie x steve#penny00dreadful#return of the king#comeuppance#through the valley#dungeons and dragons au#roommates#spies au#before he cheats fic#steddievember#rookie mistake fic#anniversary#1 year posting anniversary challenge#do that challenge#am I insane for this?#probably#I have 88k words written#no i am not fucking joking#pennys anniversary event
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WIP: bat!Eddie
Happy International Bat Appreciation Day! Figured I might as well use @batboysxprompts's Bat to the Bone event as an excuse to post a 1k snippet of my post-s4 bat!Eddie WIP (unbeta'd so ignore any mistakes) 🦇
“Ok,” Steve says, dragging the word out, hands raised to show that he’s unarmed. “How did you get into my house? And where did you come from? Did you, like, escape from a zoo? Should I be calling animal control?”
Eddie lets out an annoyed screech, and Steve jumps.
“...You don’t have rabies, do you?” he asks, eyeing him suspiciously.
Eddie grumbles and shakes his head, giving Steve a look that hopefully comes across as offended.
Steve drags his hand through his hair and mutters, “I’m going insane. There’s no way a bat just shook its head in response to my question. Maybe this is a hallucination. Weird fucking Vecna vision, though…”
Ok. Steve clearly isn’t going to guess the truth on his own. (Which is fair, honestly, because even after getting a crash course in the craziness of the past few years, Eddie doubts that he’d believe that a bat that randomly showed up in his house could actually be a person. It’s still extremely inconvenient, though.)
He wracks his brain, trying to think of some way to communicate with Steve when he can’t actually talk to him, and— Oh. He’s kind of an idiot, isn’t he?
He starts squeaking. Short short shot, long long long, short short short. Pause. Repeat.
Steve squints up at him. “Am I actually going insane, or are you squeaking at me in morse code?”
Eddie nods so furiously his whole body bobs up and down with it, letting out a high, fast chitter. Yes yes yes yes yes!
“Do SOS again,” Steve orders, still staring.
Eddie does.
Steve literally falls to the floor. He doesn’t seem to even notice, just sits sprawled on the carpet, eyes fixed unblinking on Eddie. “Holy shit. Ok. Uh, I don’t know any other morse code, so uh, gonna have to stick with yes or no questions for now.”
Thank fuck, since Eddie hadn’t really considered what might’ve happened if Steve had learned morse code or picked up a guide in… however long Eddie was out of commission for.
“Starting off with a stupid question: You can understand everything I say, right?”
There’s a brief pause where they both stare at each other expectantly.
Hey, big boy, you gonna tell me what I should do for yes and no? He gives Steve a pointed look then squeaks another SOS.
Steve blushes and smiles sheepishly. “Shit, yeah, sorry about that. Um. One squeak for ‘yes,�� two for ‘no,’ three for ‘I don’t know,’ and four for ‘Too complicated for a yes or no.’ Sound good?”
Eddie squeaks once. Honestly, that’s surprisingly thorough.
Steve lets out a sudden, hysterical burst of laughter, running his hand through his hair. “Fuck, I can’t believe this is my life. This is crazy,” he breathes. Then he looks up at Eddie again and says, louder, “I have it on good authority that I always ask dumb questions, so don’t judge me too much. Are you a normal bat that somehow gained the ability to understand English?”
No.
“Are you… from around here?”
Yes, Eddie squeaks. Then, corrects, No. Then, shaking his head in frustration, It’s too complicated for a yes or no.
“Huh,” Steve says, squinting again. “So that sounded like yes and no?”
Yes.
“Alright… Were you born around here?”
Yes.
“But you’re not from here.”
That’s not a question, but Eddie still squeaks that it’s too complicated.
Steve adjusts so he’s sitting criss-cross applesauce, drumming his fingers against his knees. “Fuck, do we have to switch to charades or something? I don’t—”
Yes! Eddie squeaks because oh Steve is a genius. Eddie’s literally a bat right now. He was made for this.
He leaps off the chandelier—falls, really, since he’d just been awkwardly holding on with his thumbs, wings wrapped around it—and takes to the air. Sure, he’s never done this before, but hopefully it’s as instinctual as flying was. He makes a wide arc, aiming for the chandelier again. At the last second, he tucks in one wing. The shift in his center of gravity makes his stomach swoop for a moment, before his feet hit the metal and latch on. Then he’s staring at Steve’s baffled face upside down. He spreads his wings wide, shaking them a little in a sort of Ta da! gesture.
Yes, he squeaks again, for good measure, wrapping his wings around himself in a very bizarre self-hug.
He’s got bat ears now, so he doesn’t have any trouble picking up Steve’s mumbled, “Yes to charades…” His head snaps up, eyes wide. He points at Eddie. “You flipped upside down after agreeing to charades.”
Yes.
“You know about the Upside Down?”
Yes!
“Just to make sure we’re on the same page: like, the Upside Down, which is what we call an alternate dimension filled with monsters.”
Eddie’s not sure if his eye roll gets across or if it’s the exasperated tone of his answering Yes, but Steve also rolls his eyes in response.
“Jeez, sorry for trying to get clarification from the enormous bat that appeared in my house and started communicating with me in morse code.”
Eddie’s ears droop in a hopefully apologetic looking expression, and he lets out a low chitter.
“Don’t worry about it. I get it’s probably frustrating that you’re talking to me rather than someone smarter.” Before Eddie can even think of a way to push back on that, Steve’s moving on: “Ok, so you were born here, but you’re from the Upside Down? Is that what you were trying to say before?”
Yes! Eddie squeaks, hoping that if it seems enthusiastic enough, Steve will realize that he’s doing an incredible job with this. Someone else probably would have called animal control, or wouldn’t be able to figure out Eddie’s mixed messages and ask the right follow up questions.
“Now, when you say you were born here, is that, like, here as in Hawkins or this planet or—? Shit, sorry. Were you born around Hawkins?”
Yes.
“Did you… live in Hawkins before being in the Upside Down?”
Yes.
“Have you always been a bat?”
No.
“Were you a person?”
Oh, Eddie could kiss him. He barely stops himself from dropping from the chandelier to curl up in Steve’s lap, and that’s only because he thinks Steve might have some trauma-based unpleasant reactions to a bat shaped creature suddenly diving at him.
Yes.
Steve takes a deep breath, voice wavering just a bit as he asks, “Did I know you when you were a person?”
Yes!
This whole time, Steve’s been curling into himself more and more, knees tucked to his chest, arm wrapped around his shins, hands clutching his sleeves with white knuckles. He’s balled up smaller than Eddie’s ever seen him. Looking terrified in a way he didn’t when facing down actual monsters and the literal end of the world. He looks like Eddie’s next answer has the potential to shatter him completely.
“…Eddie?” he whispers.
Yes! Eddie squeaks, loud enough that Steve jumps. He wants to repeat it, wants to say it over and over because honestly he never really imagined that someone would figure it out, let alone with a single conversation—but that’d be confusing, so he settles for a high pitched trill to convey his excitement.
#Bat2theBonesteddie#BatBoysPrompts#steddie#steddie wip#stranger things#bat!eddie#wip: bat!eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#my wips#my writing#my fic#my post
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my love when it counted. 01
summary: When Kenny’s ex girlfriend is hired to work at AEW he is forced to face his mistakes, his feelings, and the mess he’d made of something he once treasured. Not an easy thing, but pretending each other don't exist in some backstage cold war really wasn't going to help. (there was no abuse, violence, or cheating in their previous relationship)
pairing: kenny omega x reader
word count: 3337
warning: none, a little angst if you squint
starting off easy in this chapter, this is more of an introduction, we pick up the pace (and the drama) way more in the next one, and you can expect smut later on in this too. Meanwhile, I'm also gonna be working on that smut yall voted for, so keep a watch to see when that comes out! Anyways, here is something that's NOT smut for you to read on this Holy Friday!!
01.
“Shit.”
Kenny’s hushed voice broke through the noise in the food court, his broken half whisper reaching Matt across the table. Looking up, he caught Kenny’s eyes widening in shock, like a deer in headlights. He watched as his friend went from shock to tension in a moment before he sent his gaze scattering down. Shit, and here he thought he’d be able to have a calm, peaceful meal. Just his luck.
By this point, Matt didn’t even need to look back to know the footsteps behind him were yours. Kenny’s reaction was confirmation enough. Just as the man looked down, you passed by Matt on your way, almost as if on cue. You walked in silence, but the sound of your boots cut through the background noise like a dagger.
Matt knew you were pretending you didn’t see them. Well, pretending you didn't see Kenny. Whenever you saw Matt by himself you were always friendly. On his side, Kenny was - badly - pretending he didn’t see you. That was the unspoken agreement between you two. A cold war that felt terrifying from the outside, but that Matt only saw as sad. He could still remember the days when Kenny and you almost spoke in your own little language. Now he had to watch the two of you act like strangers and just come off being passive aggressive.
Looking up, Matt caught sight of an almost skittish Kenny finishing off his burger in a hurry. There was something unspeakbly weird about watching Kenny fucking Omega looking like some sort of stressed out prey animal. It could be even funny, had he not known that Kenny was more haunted by his own emotions than by you yourself. This was just depressing, tiring, and something Matt had told the man to solve even before his return to the ring. Looking around, he could already see a couple of people looking in his general direction, a sight escaping his lips as he looked back up again.
Kenny turned back to his friend just in time to catch a disapproving expression that he knew all too well by now. Honestly, he wasn’t doing this on purpose. It was just his reaction whenever you entered the room. Just as much as he was sure you weren’t doing the death glare on purpose, you just got on the defensive whenever your eyes crossed. The problem is, it wasn't easy avoiding each other. This situation was an every other show type of thing since Kenny returned to the ring. You’d cross each other for a few seconds and the air would already be tense.
Shit, sometimes he wondered how he convinced Tony he’d be fine working with his ex.
But there wasn’t much else he could say about it. Kenny genuinely thought he could handle it, but he severely miscalculated your piercing gaze. Besides it’s not like he had anything he could do when Tony personally brought your name up. What would he say? ‘Yeah, no, don’t hire that amazing wrestler at the height of her career because I botched our relationship years and years ago’? Not the most valid of arguments. So, he sucked it up.
Or he tried, at least. God only knew he was trying. When Tony decided he’d hire you, Kenny had still been in recovery. Your name hit him like something out of this world. He felt like the air was infused with your perfume but turned ice cold, freezing his lungs as he tried to draw breath. Like flowers in a graveyard, the bitter sweet beauty of something long gone.
You were good - great actually. So it only made sense. The best business decision. He’d have made the same call in Tony’s place. Besides, far be it from him to stand in the way of your career. So, when the topic of conversation came to that and Tony finally asked if Kenny would be ok with it, he easily agreed. Nodding his head and smiling, assuring himself that it would work. It would have to.
But back then he was still in recovery, stuck at home. This problem would be for another day. But the day always comes. His first two weeks back he hadn’t seen you. No show he was at, you were at. It was a blessing and a curse, living on the edge of a precipice, waiting for the moment he would fall. So, as he waited, he tried to mentally prepare for the inevitable day your paths would cross.
It didn’t work.
Of course it wouldn’t. How does he even prepare for something like this? You were like a force of nature - at least for him - wrecking his emotions like a fucking tornado. You had that effect on him. The love, the pain, the guilt - just the sight of your eyes stirred them all up in him. Like a storm contained within your gaze.
At first he tried being civil around you, it had been over five years, he was sure you could do it. And you could, playing civility like a good adult, a bit too well even. But the cold politeness of your voice froze his lips and dried his throat. He could feel the burn in his skin, like being dropped in an icy lake. Any deviation from that tone was always aggressive, and Kenny knew your anger was justified, he couldn't really blame you.
It didn’t take him long to decide that speaking was way worse than not speaking. The new plan was to keep his head low and dodge confrontation. He’d avoid pissing you off and maybe, if you were both polite about the whole thing, you’d seem like just strangers. Just leave you to your business and hope you wouldn’t see each other quite so often. Too bad for him, there is only so much space backstage.
“Come on,” Matt’s voice broke Kenny from his thoughts.
When he looked up again he saw Matt getting up, holding the last of his fries as he signaled for them to go. Kenny could see the same disapproving look still burning in his friend's eyes. Getting up, he followed Matt, though, as he got back to the hallway, he stole another glance before turning around.
Kenny’s gaze caught yours, just as you were turning back, coffee in hand. The sight was almost nostalgic, like he’d been sent straight back to the past. You had a match in thirty minutes and Kenny remembered this habit of yours pretty well. You’d always get coffee before a match, almost your own good luck charm. For a moment it was like time just hadn’t passed. But the moment soon was gone as he followed Matt into the hallway.
You watched as Matt and Kenny turned a corner, Kenny’s eyes catching yours for a second before they were both gone. There was tension in your muscles and bones as you started making your way to your locker room. You’d been trying to avoid Kenny as much as possible, avoid his gaze like it was the devil. Though, every now and again you’d turn around and find him staring at you. Find his eyes on yours only if just for a moment. And every time you met those baby blues you could feel all the pain you’d pushed down bubbling up to the surface.
Sometimes you wondered if accepting this job had been the right thing to do. Maybe you should have passed it down, thanked Tony for his offer and sent him on his way. Not that you had much of an option though, your time at WWE had finally started wearing you out. The lack of creative freedom making everything a constant struggle. You almost lost your love for this job all together.
So, when Tony Khan came forward with an invitation, you had no choice but to accept. What else would you do? Leave wrestling at this point? Not an option. Returning to New Japan was on the table, but you knew that whole place would scream Kenny. You wouldn’t be able to go anywhere without remembering that man. In the end, AEW was the best option. And they offered more money than New Japan, it was easy math.
The only problem was being around the man himself. But you knew that as long as you didn’t have to spend too much time together, you could do it. Be civil, be polite, be professional. You tried that, until he decided to just start pretending you weren’t there all together. And if that was the way he wanted things to be, so be it. Enough of civil and polite, you’d be silent, be curt, be distant. And try not to get caught watching one of Kenny’s matches from one of the backstage monitors. Again.
You couldn’t be sure if Matt knew that you knew, but from the corner of your eye you’d seen him watching you before you moved away. He was courteous enough to not mention anything when he came up to talk to you, and for that you were more than thankful. That was early into Kenny’s return, early into you both seeing each other again. Matt - and Nick - had kept that respectful politeness, never bringing your previous relationship up. You were friendly with the brothers and they were friendly with you. But you could feel in Matt’s eyes that hidden look of sorrow reserved for when you can’t really say what you are thinking.
In all honesty, you were just thankful you weren’t getting this look from anybody else. If Nick had the same feelings he did a better job at hiding them. You weren’t close with Adam Cole so you couldn’t know what he thought, but you didn’t really think he cared this deeply. And Hangman, despite being very friendly and warm since your arrival, never really tried bringing up the topic. Anybody else who’d know the story were also smart enough to keep to themselves. It was better that way. You figured that since Matt was closest to Kenny, he’d be the one most involved in this whole ordeal anyways.
As you arrived at the locker room you convinced yourself that it didn’t matter now. It was all in the past. Kenny, his selfish behavior and any feelings you had for him were now relics that you promised to leave behind when you took that plane in Japan. You were a different person from all those years ago and Kenny could hold you down no longer. And if Matt had anything to say he could speak up or leave it. But now, neither of them mattered, you had a match to fight. A match to win. And win you would.
From his spot backstage Kenny could hear clearly the moment your entrance music started playing. The crescendo of the beat over the booming crowd filling his ears as he made his way around the place. The song now was nothing like the one he had gotten used to associating you with. It was more aggressive and intense than your old New Japan song. It was a good song, great even. But it made his heart heavy with the realization of how much time had passed, and how time can change people.
Before the bell could ring he spotted one of the monitors backstage, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw you on the screen. He’d gotten into this bad habit since he returned, whenever you had a match he’d find the most isolated TV backstage and watch it from there. The first time he did it he said it would be only once, to fill his curiosity, he wouldn’t keep on doing this. Clearly, that didn’t work out.
Truth is, he didn’t watch your fights before you came to AEW. Well, mostly. In the beginning he refused to watch your matches out of pride. But when your absence started gripping at his heart he finally caved. Kenny missed you with him but he missed seeing you in the ring too, New Japan felt emptier without you. So one day he gave in and watched one of your fights.
He tuned in just as you were making your way to the ring, sporting new gear with a bold new song to go with it. The match started and you were beautiful, magnificent even. An exuberant exhibition of power and athleticism, of speed and resilience. You were better than before, stronger, more daring. An unleashed storm that had stayed far too long contained. It had been a few months since you left and you were doing well. You seemed to even be doing better.
Kenny could feel jealousy and envy gripping at him, tasting like acid in his mouth. He wanted to hate the way you looked in the new gear but he couldn’t deny how it flattered your body in the best ways. When the match ended and your song played he could feel the music sticking in his throat and choking his breath. But the worst part was the voice in the back of his mind whispering a question: had he been holding you back all this time? When he turned off the TV his throat felt sore and his body tense, trying hard to push these thoughts to the back of his mind.
That cycle would repeat a couple more times. He’d miss you more and want to know about your life and thus, he’d go looking for your matches - you’d blocked him on social media so that's as good as he got. Though, every time he’d feel bad, at first it was jealousy, but soon it morphed into something heavier, duller, and far more contemplative. After watching a couple of your matches, and feeling pain creep into his mind every single time, he just decided to let it go. Let you live your life without him knowing any of it.
And that was how he lived for years, only occasionally hearing any news about you. That is, until the news was that you were joining AEW. Now he sat in an empty corner backstage, watching your fight from a monitor in the wall. Like an addict, he kept coming back, watching every match with glued eyes. It still brought a tinge of pain from the corners of his mind but he just couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t bear being in the same arena as you and not watching you fight. It just felt wrong.
Time had been kind with Kenny though, mellowing his conflicting thoughts and brash nature until he could finally enjoy the show. He watched as you stood on the ropes, facing the crowd in pride as your song died down. The leather in your gear shining under the spotlights, shaping your body as your exposed skin glowed under the bright colors. It was a sight to behold, you were just as beautiful as the day you left New Japan. Maybe even more.
The bell rang and the match started and Kenny was already leaning forward, wide blue eyes fixed on your image on the screen. You moved with purpose and ferocity, an electric storm taken human form, just as dangerous and grand. Watching you like this was almost like going back to the old days. Like you’d meet after the match and he’d drag you into some dark broom closet to sate the desire you caused on him. Not like he didn’t want that right now. You still had that same effect on him, the sight of your disheveled hair and the way you looked in your gear having his blood rushing down in record time.
But he knew that was then and this was now. He couldn’t keep on feeding a longing that would lead nowhere. Over the time he’d been watching your matches, Kenny couldn’t help but notice the changes. There was more certainty to your step now, doubt like a non existent thought to you. There was more of an edge too, the hunger and fearlessness of an apex predator.
It was clear you’d gained experience and wisdom but it still was like time hadn’t passed, at least not for you. You kept the same energy and agility from before, maybe even more. Still fast to get back on your feet, and even faster to regain the upper hand. An athlete in peak form. It made Kenny even more conscious of how he’d started feeling time and his injuries weighing down on his bones. Like he’d aged twenty years while you only aged five.
Shaking his head he tried to ignore those thoughts. Focus on the match, on the way your body moved and the magnetism it held over him, like the ocean to the moon. Kenny watched you with bated breath, shaking in his seat whenever a hit landed, tensing whenever you went down. It was like the backstage got warmer as he could feel the sweat gathering on his hands, lip caught between his teeth as he watched you make the crawl to the ropes.
Kenny hated this part, of course he knew you weren’t made of glass - you’d told him that a million times - but he still did. He was fidgeting in place as he watched your hand reach its target, digging his nails into the box under him. You struggled back to your feet and Kenny’s eyes widened with every shot you took, a smile breaking through his grin when you finally landed a hit again.
Regaining your footing, you made a run for the corner and Kenny felt his chest tighten. Your love of the top rope always had him tense as he watched you climb up with ease and prepare for a jump. He watched with held breath as you wound up before taking flight, body twisting in the air. With a sigh he released the breath from his lungs as you landed a perfect corkscrew moonsault, the crowd outside cheering alongside him. That sealed the fight as you pinned your opponent and soon the three count was done, bell ringing outside as your song started playing.
Kenny sighed in relief, watching as you raised your fists in victory. You’d won, no ugly hits, no bad falls, a beautiful match, perfectly done. He felt lighter knowing his worries had been for nothing, as he always did at the end of your matches - although, in the back of his mind he always knew, all it took was one unlucky moment. Your song started dying down once more as you made your way back, Kenny getting up and stretching to release the stress in his body. When he turned around, he saw Matt in the hallway.
“She is still quite something, isn’t she?” Matt’s voice was soft, a mix of awe and sorrow seeping through his low tone. Kenny couldn’t tell if that was nostalgia or something worse all together.
“Damn,” Kenny paused, hand sliding down his hair as words failed him for a second, “she’s something else already. A whole other beast,” he paused again, hoping his voice didn’t betray the tightness in his throat. “Makes New Japan seem even longer back,” with effort, Kenny looked back at Matt, being met with his friend’s piercing gaze and hoping his eyes didn’t reveal the deep crack in his heart or how heavy it weighed on him.
“Yeah,” Matt smiled, white teeth showing but the expression still not fully reaching his eyes, “come on man, show is gonna end soon, we gotta get ready.”
Walking up to Kenny, he threw his arms over his friend’s shoulder, holding tight as he guided them into the hallway. They both knew what Matt really wanted to say - yet again. Though this time Kenny needed to hear this, he needed to talk about it, for everyone's sake. But this was a conversation to be had in private, alway from the praying eyes backstage. So Matt would save it for when the night was over, and hope this time they could make that leap.
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Far Cry 6
EL CAZADOR Y LA PRESA: Vaas Montenegro x fem!reader
Summary: La Raja Bar - the place where two old acquaintances finally meet again...
Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistake I may have made while I wrote this short story.
My Spanish isn't the best so if you find a word / phrase used in the wrong context or anything please let me know so I can improve :)
I can't believe I finally finished this piece, I've been working on it for such a long time. I think the Michael Mando brainrot helped a lot.
I hope you'll enjoy this <3
Warnings: swearing, my Spanish, referenced and mentioned violence, heavily suggestive themes, also mentioned and referenced plot of Far Cry 3 and 5
•••
Juan knew many people and he for sure knew his way around them.
He knew when and how to strike a great business deal, and how to get out on top with more intel and money than the other had initially offered.
But more often than not, when he got tired in the workshop, he just went out to have a drink or two - or more, it was almost always more - with an old friend. And he had many old friends. Some even more dangerous than the potentional business partners; many were ex-guerrillas, ex-CIA, ex-KGB, ex-terrorists... The list was endless.
She liked to join him sometimes; sitting down to try and make the stupid businessman talk or sitting down with a beer to listen to Juan and his old pal fool around.
That's what she planned on doing once again, after finishing a run for the man to steal some uranium from the last few remaining anti-aircraft sites. After taking the iron chest back to Zamok Archipiélago, she went straight up north, to La Raja Bar - where she knew she'll find the one and only Juan Cortez.
Arriving there though... a surprise was waiting for her there. A big fucking surprise. Juan wasn't the one sitting at the bar, waiting for her, already drunk. In fact, Juan wasn't anywhere in sight. Instead, she found an old friend there, hunched over with his elbows on the table.
She could still recognize him even after all those fucking years, even if the time had taken its toll on both of them.
And just by knowing who he was, she was sure he was the one Juan had met up with before leaving without telling her not to come.
And thank God he didn't tell her that.
"Holy shit!" she cursed as her lips turned upwards into a smile. "What's the fucking chance?"
The man turned around slowly - much slower than he did in the past -, but the very dangerous kind of calmness was still seen in the way his muscles moved. The look on his face upon realizing who was speaking to him, wasn't really surprised - she had never seen him being surprised at anything -, although it was close to it. She was pretty sure he had been going on with life like she had done, thinking they'd never see each other again. To be completely honest, for a time she believed he died - until she realized nothing could kill him, only himself.
"Long time no see, Jefe."
Vaas grinned and she took a seat right next to him, asking the bartender for two more beers. The old lady just cursed under her breath, but in the end, gave her what she asked for.
She gave one beer to Vaas and then took a sip from the other one.
"Fucking Hell, chica!" he took the bottle from her and gave her one of his signature little chuckles. "I thought the jungle ate you up alive."
"The jungle?" she questioned. "Like it had a fucking chance."
"It had one in the beginning."
They smiled at the other in a very twisted and scary way. The bartender chose to stay far away from them, and decided to mess with the old radio in the corner.
She liked knowing that nothing changed.
It all felt the same; the drinking, the talking, even the fucking looks... Although they had more scars - more than the ones they had given each other back then -, more grey hairs and a more serious drinking problem, it was as if they were back in some part of the Rook Islands, in a shitty bar.
She leand in more, her lips turning into an even wider smile, until it was a grin, and said: "It doesn't have one anymore, Jefe."
She carefully watched as his expression went through different phases. She could see the almost-smile as his lips twitched when she said that last word.
Jefe.
It was easy for her to tame him just by saying that. For some reason he liked to hear that word from her. Only her. She remembered all the times she had been tackled to the ground, rough fingers digging into her skin. It has always been easy to get what she wanted.
"I can fucking see that, chica."
His gaze was upon her knuckles, which were bruised. Small cuts littered her hands.
"Good for you." she said as she took another sip. "Nowadays not many people get to keep their eyes to look at me with."
Vaas chuckled.
"You still got your claws, tigre." his smile turned into a smirk. "No one broke them before, huh?"
"No one other than you." she teased. "Believe me, no one could do it better than you."
"Careful now, chica." his voice was just like hers, it had something to it - some teasing and some danger, just the things she liked. "You still think you can just run that mouth of yours without any consequences, ey?"
"I know I can't." her tone became low. "That's why it's fun."
Silence followed. The unsettling kind.
And then after a smirk, Vaas laughed.
And she felt as if she was on the Rook Islands again, being intentionally teased and angered, Vaas just chuckling at her reactions. But he had loved it more when she escaped. He loved her fight, he loved her nails more - enjoying when they broke his skin, leaving red lines behind. And in return, she got some thin cuts as well, mostly around her collarbone, making it impossible to hide them.
As they sat there, drinking and laughing, she wanted nothing more than to jump on him and leave marks behind again. And she was sure he wanted to do the same.
"So, what are you up to in Yara, chica?" he asked, his voice turning serious as much as it could. "Causing trouble again?"
"Sí, Jefe. Juan seemed to enjoy it so I decided to join in on the fun. Besides," she pulled down the neckline of her shirt so he could see the scar on her chest. "I got tired of Montana pretty quickly."
"Nice tattoo. You got more?"
"Only this one." she let go of her shirt. "You gave me better ones anyway."
"That I did chica."
She felt a chill run through her as he looked at her.
The want, or rather need was undeniable. He wanted her as much as she wanted him. He needed her as much as she needed him.
They've been far away from sanity for a long time, and their shared insanity met them each and every time they chased the other again and again and again... She was never really sane, especially with Vaas around. He made her the person she has become. He made her want him more than she wanted anyone else.
She still remembered the time Vaas gave her the tattoo she knew he was referring too. They went out to hunt - in reality he just wanted to see her face when she hit a living, moving animal; he wanted her to know she was the one who killed it. And she shot - perfectly. She only had to give the doe one more bullet to put it down and as soon as the animal was dead, her chest started to raise and fall quickly. Yet she didn't have time to think, because one of his arms was around her waist, pulling her close. His face was burried in the crook of her neck as he laughed.
"Ahora ya no eres presa, chica." he had said. "Eres la cazadora." and his teeth broke the skin on her neck.
She had asked what it meant, not quite understanding Spanish back then.
Vaas chuckled, but translated it.
"You just became the hunter, chica. You are not prey anymore." his nose touched her ear and her breathing hitched. "Mi pequeña cazadora."
Mi. She knew that meant 'my'. And from the way he acted she knew he liked that idea. He liked it a lot.
And then his fingers grabbed the hem of her shirt, pulled it up and his knife cut into her skin. Droplets of blood ran down her hip, making her jeans red. She whimpered and grabbed onto his arm, trying to get it away, but he wouldn't move.
The letter V he had carved into her that day could still be seen just above her hip. She thought about touching it - like she always did when she was thinking about him -, but held herself back.
He didn't need to know how much she enjoyed the thought of that scar.
She finished her beer. He did too. She thought about asking for another, but since the bartender wasn't anywhere in sight, she decided against it.
She didn't know what to say.
She wanted him and she was sure he felt the same, but after all those years they both became tame. It was actually surprising to not hear him shout orders.
In the end she reached into her pocket to pay for the drinks, but just as she was about to throw the money on the counter, Vaas grabbed her wrist. Out of reflex her other hand was immediatelly on the knife which was attached to the back of her belt. Vaas just grinned.
'Good reflexes, chica.' she could hear his voice in her head.
She raised one of her eyebrows.
"No need for that, cazadora." uncomfortable tingles ran through her at the nickname and at the touch. "The puta won't ask for money. I made sure of that."
She looked at him with excitement.
Her hand let go of her knife and she concentrated on the feeling of him holding onto her wrist, almost crushing the bones.
Cazadora. He remembered, didn't he? Of course he did. He remembers fucking everything. Especially the things he had done in the past.
She knew he made her. In the jungle, in the heat. Every single time she fought him and he cut her, he made sure she'll become something else. Something... loco.
And every time she let him tackle her, cut her, kiss her and bite her, she let him form her into the insane bitch she has become.
Mi pequeña cazadora. She remembered that day in the jungle when they were hunting the doe. She remembered the dull pain when he drew the V into her skin. She remembered his breath on her skin and his grin when she leaned into him, accepting her own insanity next to his.
She felt the need grow in the pit of her stomach as Vaas held onto her.
Perhaps they weren't too old to hunt again.
"You make me fucking crazy Jefe." she said as she dropped the money, letting it fall, the coins rolling far away.
And soon they were on each other. Hands roaming free, teeth biting lips. His thumb found the letter V above her hip and she whined.
She let herself be tackled, she let him break the skin with his teeth.
No matter how different she has become, next to Vaas she didn't want to be a hunter.
Not when it was too enjoyable to be the prey.
#vaas montenegro x reader#vaas montenegro x fem!reader#alessiathepirate#far cry 6#far cry 3#far cry x reader
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The Chief’s Daughter
Summary: It had been six years since your father left you behind in New York. However, now that your mother was gone, you had no choice but to drive to Hawkins to find him. That's where you meet Billy Hargrove, who turns your life upside down... literally.
Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 3.6k
Warnings: language, MAJOR child abuse, blood
Chapter 10-
The next couple of weeks went by uneventfully. Hopper had been mainly ignoring you which was fine because you had been ignoring him as well.
El had managed to convince him to let her attend the Snow Ball under the condition that you would be there and watch her. That was how you ended up sitting outside the Middle School gym with Billy after he dropped off Max.
Neil had forced him to drop off his sister, but you knew Billy had wanted to do it anyway to keep an eye on her and make sure none of the little Middle School boys tried anything.
The two of you sat on the hood of the Camaro and watched the kids on the dancefloor through the double glass doors of the gym and you found yourself smiling when you saw El and Mike kissing.
"I feel like such a creep watching little kids like this." You commented causing Billy to snort in amusement.
"It is creepy."
"That doesn't make me feel better."
"It's either us watching them like creeps or our parents, which would the kids prefer?" Billy asked, lighting another cigarette before taking a drag.
"Us. Definitely us. Hopper would have a stroke if he saw Mike kissing El like that." You answered, looking back at the gym.
El and Mike weren't kissing anymore though, but Max and Lucas certainly were.
Holy shit.
You were ready to grab Billy. Waiting for him to snap and march in there and pull them apart, but to your surprise Billy actually smiled ever so slightly behind the cigarette.
You knew Billy wasn't happy when Max first started hanging out with Lucas, but you also knew that it was really Neil Hargrove that was the one who wouldn't like it and Billy was only trying to look out for his stepsister. But you were relieved to know that he wasn't going to try and get in the way of their young love, despite how bad it might be if Neil ever found out.
"Is Hopper still ignoring you?" Billy asked after a few minutes of silence.
You hummed, holding your hand out and he silently handed his cigarette to you before you bought it to your lips and inhaled.
Neither of you said anything after that and you leant your head down against Billy's shoulder. He wrapped his arm around you while the two of you handed the cigarette back and forward until the Snow Ball finally finished and you took your sisters home.
-
A few days later, you were at the grocery store buying El some more Eggos and a few other supplies that the cabin was running low on.
There was only a couple more weeks before spring break and you weren't sure if you were excited or dreading it. You were excited because that meant no more school, but at the same time... what were you meant to do when you weren't at school?
The sound of a freezer door slamming shut in the aisle over made you flinch and nearly drop the carton of Eggos in your hands before an all too familiar voice started speaking.
"Shut the fuck up! If I wanted your opinion, I would've fucking asked."
There was no mistaking that voice.
Neil Hargrove.
"I'm sorry." Susan's timid voice replied.
"I don't want to hear another word from you until we get home. I'll meet you at the checkout, I need to get some more beer."
You stood frozen to the spot as you listened to Neil's heavy footsteps disappearing in the distance. You walked out the aisle you were in and ducked down the next aisle where the familiar red-haired woman stood.
"Are you okay, ma'am?" You asked, walking towards her.
Susan jumped a little at your voice and hastily wiped her eyes, but not before you caught the glimpse of tears in them and your blood boiled. Fucking Neil Hargrove.
"Oh, yes, yes, of course. Why?" She asked innocently, looking over at you.
"Uh, I..." You trailed off unsure if you should reveal that you heard Neil or not before you shook your head. "I heard your husband. Look, my dad is the Chief of Police, if you and your kids need help, he can help."
You knew Billy would hate you if heard you say this. He didn't trust cops and thought they would only make things worse which you understood, but how much worse could it get? Neil Hargrove was a bad man and he deserved to be behind bars.
"No, no, that's not necessary. We just had a little argument that's all." Susan reassured with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
You wanted to insist, but knew if she didn't want the Police to be involved then no amount of pushing would change her mind.
You opened your mouth to say, well, you weren't sure what you were going to actually say, but it didn't matter because you didn't get a chance to say anything before the man in question marched around the corner with Billy in tow.
The second Billy's eyes landed on you they widened in utter shock. He glanced over at his dad beside him with an almost panicked expression.
"Susan, what are you- oh, hello there." Neil said, his voice switching from annoyed to fake happy as he looked over at you.
"Uh, hi." You said awkwardly, still standing beside Susan.
Neil frowned looking between you and Susan as if he was trying to figure who the fuck you were before he glanced over at his son who was still staring at you and Neil's eyes narrowed.
"Do you know this girl, Billy?"
"Uh..." Billy began to hesitantly say before Max came bounding around the corner with a bag of candy in her hands and frowned when she saw you.
"Y/N, what are you doing here?"
"You know this girl, Maxine?" Neil questioned, looking over at the red-haired girl.
"Yeah, she's Billy's girl-" Max cut herself when she saw the death glare Billy was giving her and she instantly closed her mouth, but it was too late, Neil had figured it out.
"This your girlfriend, son?" Neil asked, raising his eyebrows at Billy who seemed frozen to the spot.
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Hargrove." You said, snapping into action with a bright bubbly voice and fake smile as you held your hand out towards him which he shook with a firm grip.
"Nice to meet you, Y/N. I'm surprised Billy never mentioned you before though." Neil replied, shooting a glare at his son.
"Oh, that's my fault. I wasn't ready to tell people about our relationship yet and I asked him not to tell anyone." You quickly lied before turning towards Susan who was staring at you with wide almost panicked eyes.
Right, you had just told her that your father was the Chief of Police. Shit, she better not tell Neil.
"And you must be Susan. It's a pleasure to meet you too."
Susan was quick to smile and shake your hand, "it's lovely to meet you, dear."
"We were just picking up dinner. Susan is making her famous pot roast. You should join us." Neil suddenly said.
"Uh, I don't think Y/N is-" Billy began to say before his father cut him off.
"I won't take no for an answer. We'd love to hear more about you, Y/N."
You knew this was a bad idea. Billy never wanted his father to know about you and he certainly never wanted you in his house with his father either, that much was for certain after Billy got you to hide in his wardrobe all those weeks ago.
You wanted to say no, but you feared that if you declined Neil's offer it would make him angry and you didn't want to trigger anything that might get Billy hurt.
"I guess, I could. But, I can't stay for long." You reluctantly replied.
-
An hour later, you were at the kitchen table of the Hargrove-Mayfield house, sitting between Billy and Max while everyone ate the roast Susan had cooked.
You weren't even hungry, but forced yourself to eat while listening to Max talk to her mother about her day at the arcade and how she had beat Dustin's new high score on Dig Dug.
"Dustin? Who's Dustin?" Neil questioned, putting his fork down and looking over at her.
You felt Billy suddenly tense from beside you, your shoulders touching with how close you were sitting due to the small kitchen table.
"He's just a friend." Max easily brushed off before turning back to her mother. "He's the only other person good at the game and I bet his score, again! Lucas couldn't believe it-"
"Who are all these boys you're hanging out with? You should be friends with girls and not-"
"Lucas, Mike, Will and Dustin are cool. The girls in my year suck." Max said, cutting him off and you found yourself holding your breath knowing Neil was not going to happy to hear that, but Max didn't seem to care as she continued. "The guys are my friends and they like the same games as me. I'm even starting to teach Mike how to skateboard and-"
"You will not be hanging out with those boys again."
Max's head shot in Neil's direction, her blue eyes ablaze with sudden anger, "what?"
"You will find girls to be friends with. No daughter of mine is hanging around with boys."
"You can't tell me what to do." She snapped, glaring at him and boy, it felt like you were looking in a mirror right now as you stared at the redhead. "You're not my dad."
"Maxine-" Neil began to shout before Billy suddenly reached forward and knocked his glass of water over.
The water splashed over the tablecloth, drenching half the material. Neil's attention was snapped away from Max in a flash, his angry eyes drawn to the spilled water before landing on Billy.
Billy had spilt the water on purpose.
That realisation hit you like a truck as you stared at Neil's furious expression. He had purposely spilt the water to get his father's anger focused on him instead of Max.
"You just going to sit there, boy? Go and clean it up!"
Billy was on his feet instantly before he walked into the kitchen to retrieve a towel and you watched him go before turning back to Neil.
"It was just an accident and it's just water." You tried to reassure.
"She's right Neil. It's fine." Susan insisted, but he just shook his head.
"No, it's not fine!"
Max flinched from beside you, but you remained calm and just stared right back at Neil.
"It was just water. The tablecloth can simply be washed if you're that worried about it." You explained, but that was clearly the wrong thing to say as he glared at you.
"Don't push me, girl." He warned, his glare hardening and you felt Max grab your hand under the table and you knew she was silently telling you to be quiet.
Billy returned a moment later and leant over the table to wipe up the spilt water. Once it was clean you all went back to eating in awkward silence, Max's hand still holding yours under the table almost like a lifeline.
"Y/N can you help Maxine take the trash out?" Neil asked once everyone had finished eating.
You nodded, helping Max grab all the plates and scraping the leftovers into the trash. The two of you grabbed the rubbish bags and walked out the front door where the garbage bin was by the curb waiting to be collected tomorrow morning.
"Your step-father is an asshole." You commented quietly, dropping the trash of.
"Neil is an A-grade asshole." Max muttered in annoyance before the sound of something crashing from inside followed by a sharp cry of pain echoed from the house.
What the fuck?
"Stay here." You quickly instructed, not hesitating before you ran back towards the house.
You had no idea what you were expecting. Maybe another glass spilled or broken, but when you reached the dining room, you found Billy on the ground holding his bloodied stomach.
It took your eyes a moment to process what you were seeing, but Susan was standing in front of Billy almost protectively with her hands raised in a pleading gesture towards Neil who stood a few metres away with a knife.
The sharp steel blade of the knife was coated a deep crimson red colour, droplets trickling down the tip and staining the beige carpet below.
Blood.
It was blood on the knife. Billy's blood.
Neil Hargrove had stabbed his son.
You watched in shock as Neil backhanded Susan with his free hand. The force of the hit sent her to floor with a sharp cry and you stood there frozen in the doorway unable to believe what you were seeing.
It wasn't until Neil began to march back towards Billy, who was still laying on the ground with a grimace etched into his face before you snapped yourself into action.
Neil still clutched the knife in his hand and you knew it was probably stupid to approach him, but you were not going to let him stab Billy again. No fucking way.
The element of surprise was on your side though. Neil had too much tunnel vision to see you coming until you grabbed his arm and yanked him away from Billy with enough force to make him drop the weapon.
The knife fell to the ground with a thud. You had half a mind to pick it up and threaten him with it, but before you knew it, Neil's fist collided with the side of your face.
Neil Hargrove was an ex-marine turned bank security guard. There was no way you'd be able to hold your own in a fight against him, but like hell you weren't going to try.
The punch had you crashing to the floor in a daze. Head spinning and ears ringing while Neil stood above you with a vile smirk.
You could taste copper in your mouth and for a second you feared he had knocked a tooth out, but you quickly realised he had just split your lip.
Billy had now gotten to his feet and before Neil could hurt you again, he shoved his father away from you with a pained groan. He stumbled a little though and your eyes instantly flashed down to the bloodied stain on his lower stomach.
That was not good. That was really not good.
Neil suddenly grabbed Billy and threw him against the wall with a loud thump.
“No!” You screamed.
Billy hissed in pain at the impact and didn't get a chance to move before his father held him against the wall with a forearm across his chest and free hand now grasping Billy's neck.
"Susan, call the cops." You ordered, sparing a quick glance to the woman still on the ground.
Her tear-filled eyes met yours briefly and she nodded, hurriedly getting to her feet and rushing out the room before you stood up, using the wall for support when things started to spin.
Neil's grip was tightening around Billy's throat as he gasped and struggled to breath. His fingers were trying to pray Neil's hand off his neck, but it was clear that he was fighting a losing battle.
Without thinking, you grabbed the glass vase from the bookshelf to your left and rushed over to Neil, slamming it against the back of his head. The glass shattering on impact causing him to release his hold on Billy who instantly fell to the ground, his legs unable to hold himself up as he grabbed his throat gasping and coughing trying to get air into his lungs.
Neil was quick to turn to you and before you could do anything, he grabbed you by the collar of your jacket and began dragging you out through the front door before tossing you down the front steps.
Your body tumbled and crashed down each step before you landed on the footpath, your head slamming against the cement in the process. You must have passed out for a second because when you came to you could hear Max screaming at Neil and you blinked your eyes open just in time to see Neil slap the redhead across the face.
"Hey!" You shouted, but your voice sounded foreign to your own ears as you forced yourself to your feet.
"Stay out of this!" Neil shouted, not looking at you and instead glared at Max who was holding her red cheek with terrified eyes. "It's about time I taught you about respect."
You were grabbing Neil's arm before you could think better of it. You knew it wasn't going to end well for you, but you didn't know what else to do.
Neil easily yanked his arm free from your grip before he grabbed your arm and suddenly twisted and pinned it up behind your back on an angle that had you hissing in pain as your shoulder strained trying to bend in the awkward direction.
"I thought I told you to stay out of this." Neil snarled angrily, twisting your arm further behind you.
You gritted your teeth in pain and blinked away the blood the was falling in your eye from the cut on your forehead somewhere before you started to laugh, sharp and mean, almost hysterically.
"The fuck is so funny?" Neil questioned.
"You are so screwed." You answered, still laughing like a maniac.
"What?"
"You have no idea who my father is, do you?"
Neil's grip on your arm faulted for a moment causing you to grin through the pain. His silence enough of an answer and you began to laugh even more just as the sound of police sirens began wailing in the distance.
"My dad is the Chief of Police, you dumb fuck." You sneered, glancing over your shoulder at him. "Hope you enjoy life in prison."
Neil growled in frustration before he twisted your arm further behind your back until you felt your shoulder pop followed by instant white-hot pain and you couldn't stop the cry that escaped your lips.
"Leave her alone!" Max screamed.
Neil shoved you to the ground roughly and you cradled your dislocated shoulder with your other arm just. Billy suddenly appeared out nowhere and slammed his fist into his father's face, putting himself between you and Neil protectively.
"Don't you ever touch her again!" Billy shouted, his entire body trembling in anger. "Or Max! Or Susan! You hear me?! Don't ever touch them again!"
You had never heard Billy sound so furious, so angry, so downright terrifying as he punched his father again, sending the older man tumbling onto the grass.
Max quickly dropped to her knees beside you, her cheek swollen red and eyes swimming with unshed tears. She reached for your bad arm, but her hand just hovered there, not wanting to hurt you further.
A fleet of Police vehicles suddenly pulled up in front of the house, lights flashing and sirens wailing.
You glanced over your shoulder as Hopper climbed out one of the vehicles. His eyes widened at the scene before he spotted you on the ground with Max.
"His dad."
Was all you said, but it was enough and Hopper turned his attention to the man in question who was still on the grass and dazed from Billy's punch.
Hopper pointed at Neil Hargrove and his Deputies were quick to rush over and grab him, hauling his ass up from the ground and slapping handcuffs on his wrists without question.
"Neil Hargrove, you're under arrest." Hopper declared, marching over and grabbing Neil's cuffed wrist before yanking him harshly towards one of the Police cars. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do will be used as evidence in the court of law..."
You stop listening to Hopper when Billy suddenly stumbled back a step and your stomach dropped when you saw how much more blood was staining the front of his shirt.
"Oh my God, Billy!" You gasped, getting to your feet.
"It's fine. Just a scratch." He lied, his body starting to sway.
"It's not just a scratch. You need to sit down before you pass out. Max, grab his other side."
His sister quickly ran over and grabbed Billy's other arm as the two of you eased him down on the grass before you lifted the shirt exposing the stab wound below.
"Holy shit." Max gasped, with wide eyes.
There was a lot of blood. It wasn't stopping and you had no idea how deep it was or if the knife had hit anything vital or- no, nope. You were not going down that rabbit hole. You needed to remain calm.
"Your jacket. I need your jacket." You said, looking over at Max who didn't question it before unzipping her green Adidas jacket and handing it to you.
"I'm fine." Billy insisted, hissing as he tried to sit up, but Max grabbed his shoulder to stop him.
You didn't bother responding to him and instead bundled the jacket up before pressing it down against the wound causing him to him to groan in pain.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." You apologised, keeping pressure on the wound despite his pain, knowing you needed to slow the bleeding. "Just breath, I know it hurts. Just breath."
"I'm sorry." Billy mumbled, his unfocused blue eyes looking up at you.
"Shh. You're okay. It's fine. Just save your energy, baby." You whispered as you blinked back tears.
You held your bad arm to your chest in effort not to move your dislocated shoulder while holding the jacket to Billy's stomach with your other hand, but blood was already starting to seep through the material and onto your fingers.
Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fucking, fuck.
"Dad!" You screamed, your voice wavering as you lifted your head in search for him.
You didn’t even notice that you called him 'dad' instead of Hopper or Chief, but he clearly did because you had never seen him move so quickly, knowing that something was horribly wrong.
His eyes landed on you and widened when he saw the bloodied jacket you were pressing against Billy's stomach. The tears in your eyes began to fall despite how hard you tried to keep them back, not wanting to seem scared in front of Max.
"Call an ambulance!" You shouted, your voice breaking.
Hopper swore softly under his breath before he ripped the radio from his belt and you turned your attention back down to Billy who’s eyes were now shut.
-
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#Billy Hargrove#billy hargrove fanfiction#billy hargove x reader#billy hargrove x y/n#billy hargrove x you#stranger things#stranger things fanfic#dacre montgomery#jim hopper#david harbour#steve harrington#eddie munson
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What the shit. Fighting a god in hand to hand combat as a gold dragon using immovable rods goes so fucking hard and it’s the backstory for a character that’s just in the main backstory???????? AMY???
You know how a lot of people, when making DND characters, make the mistake of having their level 1 PC have an elaborate backstory where they're super badass and already recognized as a hero?
When I made Ash I did the opposite. Her backstory is elaborate, yes, but in very mundane ways that inform her personality and how she perceives the world around her, and build up the logic of how she makes decisions.
I made everyone AROUND my PC a super powerful character who had done incredible things, and I gave Ash anxiety about it.
She feels, constantly, that she is inadequate by comparison. Her entire frame of reference is shaped by a bunch of women in her life that are outstandingly powerful, and she's just a quiet girl who makes leather goods and sells them for a living. She thinks of herself as the NPC in other people's more impressive lives.
Her mother, Lailah, is a nearly seven foot tall divine warrior created in Elysium to destroy Pit Fiends. She's an angel of lightning built like an MMA fighter, and she wields a weapon like piece of a lightning bolt (not stylized, I mean a real, glowing crackling arc of electricity that she holds like a staff and can be used like anything from a polearm to a spear to a whip, and when thrown it acts like a Lightning Bolt spell). She is built, both narratively and in game stats, to be an unkillable holy destroyer, capable of fighting MULTIPLE PIT FIENDS simultaneously, and winning. She's a CR 10+ magical creature (she's a homebrewed mix of Deva and Erinyes stat blocks with some unique flavor) with eighteen class levels, 16 in Zealot Barbarian and 2 in Fighter. She has a strength of 27 and a constitution of 25. She's designed to deal HUGE amounts of damage, tank unfathomable amounts in turn, NOT DROP WHEN SHE HITS ZERO HITPOINTS, and keep swinging until every devil in her way is a pile of dust, then use bonus action Second Wind to bring herself back above 0 so she doesn't incur the auto-death caveat on Zealot Barbarian's Rage Beyond Death ability. One of her attuned items is also the very simple uncommon item "Periapt of Wound Closure" which automatically stabilizes you at the start of your turn, thereby resetting the death saving throws she would theoretically have to make each time she gets hit below 0. Also, as an angel, she's innately immune to auto-death effects like Power Word Kill, which closes almost all loopholes that get around her build. She is UNSPEAKABLY badass. I ran a simulated round of combat with her once, and she could potentially one-shot a CR 15 Skittering Horror (228 HP) in a single turn. Her theoretical maximum damage output is like, 456 damage in a turn (granted this assumes all crits and rolling max damage).
So that's Ash's mom.
Aria is interesting. She was always strongly attuned to the forces of nature, and her magic grew quickly. Where Ash grew up with someone she knew would always be there to protect her from anything, Aria did NOT have that safety net, and spent her formative years learning to be more self-sufficient in terms of relying on her own power. So eventually she got sucked into an adventuring party consisting of herself (a tiefling Witch subclass with very strong druid flavor), a tiefling zealot barbarian, and a couple of elf twins who were an Arcana cleric and a Celestial Warlock. Sometime after they had made a name for themselves, they were tasked with stopping a suspected fledgling vampire who had been kidnapping girls and killing a bunch of people. When they arrived, they met Cass, who was very much NOT a new vampire. She was almost 150 years old and had been protecting women from abusers and overzealous debt collectors, and things had gotten a little messy with one or two of them, leading to a lot more attention than she normally got. They start off fighting Cass (Aria polymorphs herself into a dire wolf and lunges directly for the throat, which Cass found amusing and impressive) but realize in the banter that Cass wasn't the real problem, and she ends up being a sort of a lesson for the group in terms of whose word they trust and who they take jobs from (YES THE BACKSTORY'S BACKSTORY HAS NARRATIVE ARCS AND MORAL LESSONS THAT LEAD TO LONG TERM CHARACTER GROWTH OKAY I CAN'T HELP MYSELF). Cass, having a particular rapport with Aria, ends up joining their party as a dhampir Soulknife Rogue/Shadow Monk.
Yes, that's all backstory that I made up for an imaginary campaign that exists entirely as a set piece for Aria as one of Ash's story NPCs. This doesn't even touch on the fact that I liked Cass so much as a character that I gave HER an entire backstory of her own. I DON'T HAVE A PROBLEM.
Anyway the team only makes a bigger name for themselves for handling things that other groups can't. Eventually, they just happen to be in the Tenth District when the War of the Spark happens (major established event in the MTG canon), and I basically added some extra "scenes" to it that didn't violate existing canon so I could have that be the climax of their imaginary campaign. One of Aria's partners was a new planeswalker at the time and her spark got harvested by the Dreadhorde, specifically by the god eternal Bontu.
Gods in Magic The Gathering aren't honestly that special? They don't seem to have THAT much power, all things considered. Ravnica's gods are mostly powerful magical animals, and in the most recent Magic Story one of their gods (Anzrag the Quake Mole) was captured in an "evidence capsule" (basically Magic's version of a Pokeball). The most powerful god in MTG is probably the Ur Dragon honestly, unless you count the Eldrazi, but that's a whole other conversation since neither of those actually have the "God" creature type.
Anyway, Bontu was one of the gods of Amonket (basically a plane based on ancient Egypt), which had been conquered by an Elder Dragon planeswalker named Nichol Bolas. HE was the one who actually killed all but one of Amonket's gods, and then another planeswalker named Liliana Vess (extremely powerful necromancer) raised them as zombies for his army, because Bolas had a ton of complicated leverage over her (magical contract that he could invoke to kill her if she betrayed him). So Bontu was a god zombie.
Here's a reference:
Well, Aria was a level 18 Witch at this point since this was the climax of their campaign, so she had access to the Shapechange spell, a 9th level transmutation that lets you become any creature with a challenge rating equal or lower than your character level. And the best candidate for that was an Adult Gold Dragon (CR 17). So Aria goes full berserk and stands up on her dragon hind legs and picks a fight with a dead god that she's determined to make deader, and has a Godzilla vs King Ghidorah standoff with her.
So how do you fight a god that can suck your soul out and instantly kill you with a single touch? You don't let it touch you.
What Aria did was basically inspired by this gif of a Wildebeest trying to charge at a lion:
Or this:
And to be clear, yes, I'm saying Aria was the lion in that situation. She basically did a big dragon threat display to get Bontu's attention, and used the Gold Dragon's weakening breath to give Bontu disadvantage on Strength checks and saves. Bontu charged at her, and at the last second Aria dropped to the ground and then shot back up, clamped her teeth around the god's throat, and used her weight to throw Bontu around and knock her off balance, and her superior strength to grab her by the wrists and wrestled her to the ground so she couldn't get a grip on Aria. She had every part of the god that could have killed her pinned, and used the claws of her wings to pull Bontu's armor apart and tear at everything she could reach while thrashing her around. It was Fen, the Arcana cleric, who thought to use Immovable rods to pin Bontu down so that even if Aria lost her grip, Bontu wouldn't be able to immediately one-shot any of them. So Athena (barbarian) and Cass (rogue/monk) as the two martial classes were the ones who got close enough to handle that while Fen and her sister (Gwen) used whatever holy magic they could to help from a distance.
Now CASS had a problem, because she's a DEX based martial class, not a strength based one. She needed a boost to be able to get this job done. So she drank some of Bontu's blood from one of the wounds Aria had left on her arm to give herself a burst of strength. Except. She had to get real close to do that. And Bontu managed to get a loose grip on her, and tried to suck out her soul.
The magic that makes Cass what she is is very old and very powerful. It binds her soul to her body in a much stronger way than any living creature, fusing the two together to prevent her from dying (i.e. by having her soul separated from her body; Cass can recover from almost any conceivable physical injury as long as there's life energy, in the form of blood, for the magic that keeps her alive to feed on and maintain the seal between her body and her soul). BECAUSE SHE WAS FEEDING ON THE BLOOD OF A GOD AT THE TIME, the magic holding her together basically fought against the magic that was trying to rip her soul out, and it had enough fuel to hold on until Aria's thrashing forced Bontu to let go. So Cass survived the Elderspell thanks to a very weird and unrepeatable set of circumstances (which allows something narratively impressive and legendary to happen without being gamebreakingly overpowered and violating the established rules of the world).
Because of how her magic draws energy from other things, though, there was a side effect: she also accidentally took in one of the planeswalker sparks that Bontu had harvested. So when Cass had healed enough for her soul to no longer be dislocated, her spark activated and she became a Planeswalker. (I imagine a soul is connected to a body mostly through the nervous system, because that's how a brain holds consciousness in it, so a "dislocated" soul is like something glued to every nerve ending in your body being pulled on with an enormous amount of force, trying to sever that connection; imagine trying to pull yourself off the ground when every nerve ending in your body is superglued to the floor by something akin to the Strong Nuclear Force. It SUCKED.)
The team ended up being forced to retreat because of Cass' injuries, so Aria didn't actually manage to kill Bontu personally (or die trying, which in her grief-rage she was fully open to). Right about this time, my bottle scene ends and Magic canon comes back into play: Liliana betrays Bolas and turns the Dreadhorde against him, and Bontu ends up being the one who bites him and rips out HIS spark. Due to the enormous rush of energy of consuming all of Bolas' stolen Planeswalker sparks (tl;dr he was trying to become a god), and with the added bit of lore that it was Aria's team that heavily injured Bontu just prior to this, Bontu exploded in the process.
This resulted in Ravnica playing a game of telephone in the chaotic aftermath of the War. Aria fought a god. She's still alive and that god is dead. Rumors spread and now Aria is misremembered as the one who killed Bontu. Half the plane thinks of her as the "god killer." All she wanted was to avenge her lover or die trying.
Neither outcome happened, and now she's credited with the very thing she sees as her greatest failure. And that trauma has haunted her ever since.
#so my backstory has a backstory with its own backstory#this is a normal and healthy way to approach storytelling I think.#so anyway Ash is surrounded by badass women and doesn't recognize her own potential#because her entire frame of reference is the most outrageous statistical outliers#Ash#Aria#Lailah#Cass#eldritch OCs#Uneiverse#I have one character whose backstory goes back over 6000 years have I ever mentioned that#y'all don't even KNOW the shit that lives in my brain#also I invented god from scratch so TECHNICALLY I made backstory for the universe itself and it goes back billions of years#when I say that I don't mean I made up A GOD from scratch. I mean I reinvented the CONCEPT of what 'god' even means.#and built a universe around that concept#I also have some cool thoughts about the nature of time and fate that I haven't talked about yet#the inside of my brain is a very interesting place. try not to get lost. the exits are not clearly marked.#what if I gave my characters *T R A U M A*#anyway I'm glad you thought this sounded cool enough to ask about. I hope you feel the same about the rest of the story someday.
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Had to leave 2001: A Space Odyssey in the final ten minutes because I was literally getting muscle cramps from having to plug my ears for the monolith music.
I'd been trying to get through to the end because I knew the movie was nearly over, but when there was a brief pause, and then the music started again, I tagged out.
Let me say this before I say anything else: This movie is a masterpiece of the highest order.
But also, I get why 16-year-old me was fucking BORED, and I get how someone watching it as an adult could be fucking BORED. Because I was sitting there going, "Okay, this has all been very nice to look at, but I feel like I'm on film number 3 with HAL here, and I know where THIS part goes, but I'm gonna need a thru-thread to justify this fucking thing."
And then the thru-thread happened.
And holy shit.
My only recollection of watching this movie back when I was 16 (I remind you, I am 41) is some very well-known shots of Dave and Hal, and also many recreations of The Dawn of Man sequence in various pop culture ways (the Barbie movie being the latest in a long line).
I think it's especially impressive, watching it now, how little screentime HAL actually has and how I felt so bad about what happened to him. A computer, built by men, is possibly fallible one time. And so two humans decide they'll need to take away his intelligence because it's a life or death situation. Even the human who seems to see HAL as a possible sentient intelligence doesn't try to talk to him about his concern. When it comes down to it, the two humans decide to harm the computer that's kept them alive so far, may have (only MAY HAVE) made one minor mistake, and has tried to be friendly with them (HAL wanting to see Dave's drawings kicked me in the ribs).
And then, when you see Haywood's recording to explain why they're going to Jupiter after Dave has brought HAL off-line so deeply that it triggers as a last-ditch effort explanation to the astronauts in case HAL has failed but the ship is still usable, you realize HAL was trying to give Dave a hint about the secret he was being forced to keep when he asked Dave if he'd noticed how ODD the security around their journey was.
But also, HAL--upon realizing the astronauts plan to harm him--immediately seeks violence. But that also reflects the Dawn of Man era where we see the first tool use being to smash bones. HAL is as human as the first human to pick up a bone and smash it down.
And what saves man is the use of simple tools a computer program can't replicate or control.
#2001: a space odyssey#classic film#movies with a soundtrack that make me go panicky#i will be able to watch it at home because i can control the volume#but that's a big no to any other theater experience
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drunk words and sober thoughts | j.k
you can only hold out for yourself until booze and feelings get involved.
warnings: reader is hammered, everyone else is pretty drunk and high, reader smokes, fluff <3
word count: 2.9k
— —
You didn’t know what it was, but something had changed between you and Johnny. Technically you were still broken up, but something just felt…different. It had been pretty tense between the two of you, and you’d actually had the strong tendency to argue over the past three and a half weeks that you’d been broken up, but tonight you were getting along well. Really well.
Everyone had ended up in Johnny’s backyard for a bonfire party, and after one two many beers and a couple of spliffs passed around between everybody (you had no idea how someone had convinced Johnny to participate, but still) every single person in attendance had shifted into the ‘acting like complete idiots’ portion of the night.
“It’s been like, a million fucking years. How the hell am I supposed to remember what shoes you were wearing when I met you?” Bam was complaining as everyone tested just how well they knew each other.
“I’ve worn the same brand my entire life, dipshit. Take a wild guess.” You said dryly in response. The entire time you were talking you were swaying pretty heavily on your feet, and when you accidentally took a big side-step and almost tripped, you felt a hand grab you by the hood that was currently pulled over your head and readjust you so that you were back steadily on flat feet.
Johnny was there, and you could tell when your eyes met that he was watching you like a hawk. But you were plastered, so you brushed him off.
“I’m good.” The words out of your mouth didn’t sound very good, and you winced at the slur of your own voice. He raised his eyebrows, because he was clearly not convinced, but kept his mouth shut in favor of continuing to let you and Bam argue.
“Fine. I don’t know what fucking shoes you were wearing. Jesus.” He said as he rolled his eyes, throwing a hand in the air before taking a long drink of his beer. Ryan shook his head at his friend’s words.
“Damn. You don’t have even a little sentiment?” He asked, pretending to sound hurt as he clapped you on the shoulder. Which was a mistake, because then you were stumbling all over again, and were only able to grab Johnny’s hand at the last second to save yourself from tumbling right down onto your ass.
“Alright. Cut off.” Johnny was half-serious and half-snickering in your direction, but the yank of your beer bottle out of your hand was very serious as he put a quick end to your alcohol consumption for the night. You threw a hand in the air, your other hand still locked in an iron-tight grip with his, and scoffed in indignation as Bam talked right over that interaction.
‘Yes, I have sentiment. I know when like, your birthdays are and shit.” He was defending himself, making a face like that was some grand feat. Ryan rolled his eyes, then caught a glance at your condition.
“Holy shit, Y/n/n. You’re fucking trashed.” He said immediately, reaching out to grab your chin so that he could look into your eyes. “Or stoned. One of those.”
“Yeah. Don’t fuckin’ give her anymore.” Johnny warned. Ryan tilting your head so fast had made the whole world spin violently between your eyes, and you started rolling your head slightly to combat it, which just resulted in Johnny reaching a hand out and putting it over the top of your head to manually stop you.
“Every goddamn time.” Ryan chuckled as he listened to your groan of complaint at Johnny’s actions. There were so many things you could be doing, and yet you were glued to your ex-boyfriend’s side because he’d decided that you were too ‘drunk’.
“Dude, I told you, she’s a lightweight when she drinks.” Bam teased, dodging the leg you shot out to kick him. “Knoxville, you need to take her inside or something, dude.”
“Yeah. I’m about to.” Johnny sounded almost tired, and you let out a long sigh in both disappointment that your night was being turned into a babysitting session and acceptance that you were being force to leave your friends.
“Can you at least bum me a cigarette?” You asked Ryan, who smoked the same brand as you. You made sure to ask as nicely as possible, and then grinned in success when Ryan groaned and pulled out his pack to grab one for you.
“You’re going to have to get a light from someone else. Steve-O stole mine.” He said as he shoved a cigarette between your lips, replacing the pack in his back pocket with his free hand. You blew him a kiss, then flipped Bam off as Johnny forcibly pulled you away from the fire, towards what was hopefully at least a partially empty house. If you were being yanked away from partying this early in the night, you didn’t everyone else’s fun thrusted in your face when all you could do was sit and watch.
“Stop walking so fast.” You complained, trying to keep up with Johnny’s wide strides as he led you up the back porch and towards the sliding glass door. He chuckled and slowed down, arm now wrapped around you as he helped you up the stairs.
“What have you been drinking?” He asked incredulously as he watched how hard it was for you to get your foot up each step. You wrapped both arms around his waist as you almost tripped again, finally tackling the last step and getting up onto the deck with a small cheer.
“Lotta beer. But I’m not even that drunk.” You waved him off, giving up on trying to get all the way inside and instead settling for just sitting down right where you were. You could see through the glass door that there was a separate party going on inside, and you didn’t want to join something where you couldn’t even drink along with everyone else.
“I don’t think I have ever seen you this drunk.” Johnny corrected, kneeling down in front of you and then holding up a lighter. “Look at me.”
You did as he asked and held as still as possible until he had lit your cigarette, puffing the first breath of smoke out through the corners of your mouth as you grinned in thanks.
“Sit behind me so that I don’t have to sit up.” Suddenly the genius idea came to you, and you jabbed a thumb behind you to signal what you wanted. He looked a little surprised, and it suddenly dawned on you what you were asking your ex to do, but you were already committed, so you just stared at him. He sighed.
“You’re going to hate when I tell you that you asked for this tomorrow.” He pointed out, getting up and moving behind you but not yet sitting down. You waved his words off.
“I don’t give a shit. It’s cold.” You scoffed, motioning for him to hurry up. Your head was feeling heavier and heavier by the second, and you felt as if you were going to fall forward without him there to hold onto you.
Finally, you felt him slide down behind you, his legs coming to rest on either side of yours until your back was pressed flush up against his chest. You sighed in content, leaning your head back against his shoulder and then grabbing his hands that were resting on the porch at his sides.
“Y/n.” He warned, his whole body tensing up as you brought both of his hands into your lap to hold onto. You turned to the side to look at him, frowning like you didn’t know why he was reacting the way he was.
“What? I’m good. You’re good.” You reassured, squeezing his hands in yours and leaning your full weight back up against him. Part of you was practically screaming for his touch (which was unfortunate, considering he was your ex), and sitting basically in his lap was barely cutting it.
“Yeah? You’re okay?” He must’ve noticed how close his face was to yours at the same time you did, as his eyes momentarily flitted to your lips before he caught himself and looked up to you again. You nodded, taking his hands and crossing them so that he was essentially hugging you against him. Yeah, that felt good.
“Mhm. I like it when you take care of me.” You said happily, turning slightly in his arms so that you were sideways and he was basically cradling you like a baby. “Makes me wanna kiss you.”
“Oh, does it?” There was a soft smile on his face, and his hands were dangerously close to your ass where he was holding you against him, which only confirmed your realization that you very much wanted to kiss him. “You’re drunker’n shit.”
“So? I love you.” You crooned, cupping his cheek as you grinned up at him like an idiot. He just sighed, shaking his head slightly as he rocked you back and forth gently. A mistake on his part, because if he kept doing that it was going to put you right to fucking sleep.
“No you don’t.” He said easily, a knowing look on his face as he held your adoring gaze. You pouted, burying your face in his shoulder for a second as you tried to pull yourself together before you cleared your throat and took a deep breath.
“Just one kiss? Please?” You hadn’t meant for it to come out as begging, but that’s exactly what it sounded like. You could tell he was thinking the same thing, because he laughed again.
“Fine. One kiss.” He caved, sighing softly. You let out a triumphed noise before he was leaning down and connecting your lips, a feeling you had been craving so badly over the last couple of weeks that it made you shiver slightly as you finally got it.
‘One kiss’ turned into five, and then you were fully making out, his hand sliding up your side and then under the fabric of your sweatshirt to feel your bare skin. His fingertips were cold, and you gasped slightly. He didn’t give you time to pause, his tongue still tracing against yours in your mouth as your hand moved to cover his.
“Say cheese, assholes!” Surprise ran through you milliseconds before you were momentarily blinded by flash, and your head snapped over to see Jeff Tremaine and Chris Pontius standing there, Jeff with a camera in hand and Pontius grinning like a kid in a candy store. Fucking great.
“Go away!” You groaned, holding a hand out towards the camera lens to block Jeff’s shot of Johnny’s hand very clearly up your shirt. Chris chuckled.
“Aw, come on. You guys are cute. One more picture.” He persuaded, pushing your hand down gently. Once again, you were very drunk, so you agreed easily, smiling like an idiot with your head tucked into Johnny’s neck as you smiled for Jeff’s camera. You would’ve bet money that Johnny just glared into the shot.
“This is so that I can show you this in the morning, and then you can be really proud of yourself.” Jeff explained, holding up the camera as he supplied you with his reasons. You nodded like that made sense, rolling your eyes.
“Great. Thank you kindly.” You blew your sentence out in the form of a huff, closing your eyes when your vision started to swim once again and letting Johnny do the honors of shooing Jeff and Pontius away. Once they were gone, you relaxed in his arms and took a drag off of your cigarette. “People are so fucking nosy.”
“Well, to give ‘em some credit, last week we were at each other’s throats, sweetheart.” Johnny said lowly, pulling his hand out of your shirt and holding onto you a little tighter when you started to droop backwards.
“I was having a bad couple of weeks.” You defended yourself, shrugging as you stuck your cigarette between your lips so that your hands were free to grab his shoulders and pull yourself up so that you were sitting with your legs crossed on top of his. “Come on. How can you say no to me?”
“Oh, you know I can’t.” He played your game, smiling softly as he spoke. “What was all of that shit about you being done with me and never wanting to talk to me again?”
“I was having a bad couple of weeks.” You repeated, runnning a hand through his hair slowly and watching in satisfaction as his eyes closed partially at the feeling. “And of course I’m not done with you. I hate when my arms are empty. And when I’m empty.”
“Okay. You need to go to sleep.” Johnny chuckled, his eyes opening again just as you gave him another kiss. “You can tell me that again in the morning when you’re sober and hating your life.”
“Can I sleep in your bed?” You whined, wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your cheek on his shoulder. If he was that hellbent on getting you to go to bed, he was going to have to carry you towards it. “Bam and Ryan are going to end up in the guest room, and they’re gonna fuck with me.”
“I mean, if you really want to. You know I can’t go up to bed until everyone is out of the house.” He reminded you, rubbing your back and shifting like he was going to get up. At your disappointed sigh, he paused. “How about I set you up on the couch with a blanket and I sit with you there? I’ll take you up to bed when everything mellows out.”
“Okay.” You agreed, wrapping your legs around his waist and holding onto him tightly as he finally stood up. It always amazed you how he was able to pick you up like you weighed virtually nothing and cart you around like a little kid.
The party was about as ridiculously loud inside as you had been expecting, but you were relieved to see that the noise was mostly coming from just Steve-O and Ehren, who were clearly in the middle of a slapping fight. As soon as Johnny came into the house with you in tow, however, you knew that everyone’s eyes were immediately glued on the both of you.
“She’s about six beers too deep.” Johnny supplied an explanation as he forced Ehren off the couch so that he could set you down, cradling your head in his hand so that you weren’t being jostled around as much.
“Four beers too deep, asshole. I can still hear.” You grumbled as Johnny grabbed the blanket that was messily draped over the back of the couch, unfolding it before laying it out over you. “And I’m fine. I was forcibly removed from outside.”
“What, so you could come shove your tongue down Knoxville’s throat in here, too?” Wee-man asked pointedly, motioning towards the sliding glass door. “We could all see you, bro.”
“Whatever. It’s not like that’s the first time we’ve ever kissed.” You then pulled the blanket over your head, trying to get the room to stop spinning as you rested your head against the arm of the couch. “Jesus. You people are so nosy.”
“Honey. You’re gonna suffocate yourself under there.” You felt Johnny sit next to you, and then the blanket was being pulled off of your head to send the overhead light beaming right back into your eyes. Johnny saw you squint, then repositioned so that he was blocking the light of the lamp from your eyes before he relaxed in his spot.
“Such a fucking pogue.” Steve-O snickered, which earned him a death stare and an empty beer can to the head when you located one on the floor in front of you. He moved to retaliate, only to have Johnny hold him back with an outstretched foot.
“Just ignore her and go back to doing…whatever the hell you were doing.” Part of you felt bad for making Johnny take care of you instead of having fun with his friends, but you were trying to remind yourself of all the times you’d had to take care of Johnny whilst he’d been three times as intoxicated in the past to make yourself feel better.
Being tucked into Johnny’s side and having a blanket wrapped around you weren’t exactly prime conditions for staying awake, so soon you were falling asleep, arms wrapped tightly around Johnny as you slept on his shoulder with your mouth partially open.
Eventually he did take you up to bed, but you were so groggy with sleep and alcohol that you barely noticed. You did vaguely remember pulling yourself closer to him so that you were wrapped up in his arms, but that was for drunk you to enjoy and sober you to worry about tomorrow.
For now, you were just trying to get warm with your hands in Johnny’s shirt and your legs entwined together as he held you throughout the night, confirming what you had already been concerned was going to happen. Drunk words/actions were sober thoughts, and no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself you didn’t need him, you knew you did.
You needed him, and you wanted him.
So maybe waking up in the morning wrapped up in your ex’s arms wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Maybe.
#johnny knoxville#johnny knoxville x reader#jackass#jackass mtv#jackass imagine#jackass movie#bam margera#chris pontius#steve o#ryan dunn#wee-man#danger ehren#jeff tremaine
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~~Rant~~
I hate the argument about how queer is a slur and an off-limits word/label. because like it's the only label I've found that really truly resonates with me. I'd been trying to find something that fit right for about three years when I started using queer.
first I was bisexual, bc I was very new to queerness, in the sense that I knew about binary trans people, gay men, and lesbians, and that was like it. and my close friend had just come out to me as bi, and I was like "holy shit, there's a word for being into both genders? that's allowed??" something deep in my being snapped, and it was like I could see the world correctly for the first time. bc this was how I had felt my whole life. I was crushing on girls and either suppressing it or mistaking it for a platonic love. and I was making up extra crushes on boys, to overcompensate.
so then I dove deep into queer culture and learned about all these orientations, but also found out about the gender spectrum and fluidity. so here was this huge gender thing crashing down on me with the realization that "wait, I can be feminine, but I don't have to be a girl? and I can embrace my masculinity without being a boy?" and I was a little in denial for a bit and said I was gender fluid bc I think I was too nervous to admit that large of a change to myself, that I wasn't what I had thought I'd been my whole life, so I decided to just pretend I was a little bit that. (THIS IS NOT TO SAY THAT ACTUAL GENDERFLUID PEOPLE ARE IN DENIAL ABOUT THEIR GENDER. THIS IS JUST WHAT I DID. ILY GENDERFLUID PEOPLE, YOU'RE COMPLETELY VALID <3)
and this gender thing took for-fucking-ever to figure out, but I'm settled on transmasc nonbinary. so where did that leave me for orientation? I kept thinking things like "maybe I'm a lesbian. idk if I like guys all that much," or "well actually idk if I like girls," or "what if I don't like anyone. I think I'm aroace." and eventually I said omnisexual/romantic, but I was still thinking these things.
because here's my deal: if I find myself attracted to a girl, I'm like "this is a gay ass feeling." and if I find myself attracted to a boy, I'm like "feeling real fruity rn." and any other gender, I just feel gay if I am attracted to someone. never do I look at someone and think "wow I wanna spend so fucking much non platonic time with you in a fully heterosexual manner."
at the same time, I often think about all those crushes I made up, and the way that I go so so long without having a crush and how I am content with not having a romantic relationship and how my past romantic partners never clicked right. and I think "perhaps I really am arospec."
and I think of how I've never been sexually attracted to someone, with like two exceptions ever, and those two people were people I knew very well. and how the idea of having sex seems like something I could participate in, but only probably for someone else's sake, not something I'd initiate. I think of how sometimes I feel like I never ever want to have sex ever bc I just don't want someone to touch me like that, or to touch someone else like that. I think of how sometimes I actually am really into the idea of sex, hypothetically. and I think "is there a spot on the ace spectrum for that?"
and so I look at all of this and I am faced with the question: "how the hell do you put all of that under a label?"
there are two answers here; 1. I don't, and I go unlabeled. I hate this answer. my autism loves to sort and label things. (of course there's an exception for other people. if someone else is unlabeled I'm not gonna say "actually you're this." this only applies to myself and my own things) 2.
Queer !!!
queer is the only label that can encompass all of that, for me. obviously, I could use a bunch of microlabels, and I love microlabels, really, I just would probably lose track of everything quickly.
so yeah, I have a huge fucking issue with people saying that I am not allowed to use the only label that's ever felt like a home to me, the only label that's ever fully covered everything that I am and everything that I feel.
if you don't want to be called queer, good, I won't call you that. but I will not stop calling myself queer. if you have a problem with that, then like actually fuck you
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Hi gang
I see were talking about Jonathan Piss ass ToiletJon again
And as someone who was fucking THERE, WORKING FOR HIM WHEN EVERYTHING DROPPED
Oh my FUCKING GOD AM I SO PISSED OFF.
Welcome to my rant/vent
Mutuals look away Im sorry
Tw// for grooming and manipulation. General gross things in that area
Also Jinbop.
First of all Ashlie and Jon did was gross, but where Jon failed at literally everything Ashlie succeeded.
When the news dropped of what happened in 2017 Jon made a fucking video of him crying like a little man child, and then pressed charges (also doxxed himself like an idiot) WHICH IS INSANE BEHAVIOR. Even in his written respone he was only making excuses.
At that time I was in very close connection with him, I was on his build team, I played multiple games with him. He would come into vc and hang out with us for several hours, you could consider us friend maybe! I wouldnt.
But I was at the very least in a lot of personal servers.
So when things dropped I knew almost all of the behind the scenes BULLSHIT that was happening. How everyone waited for it to blow over and stuck by him. (I got kicked out of servers too cause people knew i was against him but I was still told everything by friends who were still in there)
Then February happened. And so much more, much worse things got exposed. From only his end. I won't mention who was involved, out of privacy reasons and because I dont want to drag them into this. But holy shit dude everyone left him after that. It was over, his gross behavior with minors (included me now that i think about, sir why are you calling me and my friends cute we are 15-) His awful and manipulative behavior with people he finds useful, how he treats his teams
. He never credited anything, I made his goddamn Dimensions s2 designs, Eddie made the skins. Only Eddie was mentioned, once on a stream.
Eddie also made designs and skins for Rosethorn, and got credited in video no less.
Its not that hard and yet!
The main point is
He was still acting in 2020, the incident was in 2017. And he was acting like this, in late 2020. Into 2021.
I wanted him to get better. I really did, I had been hyperfixated on this group of people for years it hurt a lot.
But its been almost three years and he infact has stayed the same!
He is a grown ass man acting like a toddler on a public twitter account, what makes this man some one to respect in any sort of way.
Theres so much more shit I know about this man, that I can't fucking say because of the people involved not giving me permission too. And I respect that. Thats their story to tell.
Now ashlie on the other hand.
Ashlie made a concise apology and owned up to her actions, shit she made sure not to happen again. She went to fucking therapy, she broke off that relationship first and has made so much effort to distance herself from that and apologize everyday of her life.
She went to therapy after breaking things off, and she went again after the callout just to double fucking check she wasnt a horrible person.
She initially handled everything that happened in 2017 in private, like youre supposed to do. Not have a public twitter meltdown. And in late 2020 still handled mostly everything privately. She wrote out a full explanation and apology that is still very visible on her yt channel, not her twt her full 100k subscriber yt channel
I THINK, THATS GROWTH and she should be respected for that. She's actively changed as a person from the 20yr that made mistakes
And what's crazy is that Max and Ross still make youtube videos with her.
Max and Ross, YKNOW. The people who made sure fucking Jinbop got arrested and stomp Sky's name into the fucking ground for the shit that Sky did. I 100% trust those two to make a decision about a person in their circle when theyre doing some FUCKED SHIT.
IN FACT, THEY DID DROP ASHLIE WHEN THE ALLEGATIONS CAME OUT. SHE WAS IMMEDIATELY KICKED OUT OF EVERYTHING INVOLVING THEM
And they came back. They came back and started making new things and videos with her, Ross is an active participant in almost all of her videos.
I think that speaks wonders about her.
Don't drag her name through the ground I respect that woman and all of her endeavors in the future, she has more than made up for the fact.
Jon is still an awful person, and I dont think he will ever change. He's had more than ample time to and acts like whinny child on Twitter. Actively tries to pull nostalgia bait on his dying yt channel and mocks his ex "friends'" work. I want him gone from the youtube sphere and to get an actual life.
#for my beloved mutuals who dont know a clue about this please look away#theres a clown on out block an Im mad about it#rant#tw grooming#eddie gave me perm to talk about things#i was there man#dont speak the sacred texts to me i was there when it was written#i dont want this on my tumblr but I have been quiet about everything for so long#i dont like stirring drama#but here I am#i am at my limit
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Dreams that came true
Paring: Morpheus x f!reader, Sandman x f!reader
Warnings: swearing, horror images, graphic violence, adult themes, reader discretion is advised
Summary: Be careful what you wish for because some dreams do come true.
Word count: 4.8k
Note: Gifs are not mine, credit to the authors.
Series Masterlist
Part fifteen: One with the Dream
***
If someone had ever told Morpheus that on a warm autumn afternoon he would be enjoying the company of two mortals it would probably have been met with his resentment and contempt. He remembered very well how, in 1889, Hob Gadling merely suggested that perhaps he was looking for friendship, alluded that he might be feeling lonely, he remembered well his own reaction. Outrage, anger, storming out into the rainy night, but also sadness, pain. Something he never told him and probably never will. His words hurt him like a burning iron applied straight to his heart, pained him because there was truth in them, he felt lonely. He had always felt lonely, isolated. But he would have liked to think that this must have been the nature of his existence, the lonely Lord of Dreaming. All the attempts he had made to fill that solitude turned into nothing. Killala, Nada, Calliope…each attempt always ended the same way, nothingness, loneliness. Therefore, he made the decision that love had no place in the Land of Dreams, because love comes from Desire, manipulates the heart and mind of beings, brings them to ruin. But what about friendship? Friendship, in Morpheus's eyes, was only a secondary to love, the first step leading to it, the first mistake he could make. It was not a privilege or a luxury he could afford. Eons of life had taught him that neither love nor friendship had any place in his existence. And yet, more than a hundred years since that memorable rainy night, he found himself in the company of a friend and his beloved, and he had to admit to himself that the sight of their smiling faces immersed in conversation brought warmth to his heart, made him feel good. It made him feel happy.
"Unbelievable…" Y/N whispered and her eyes lighted up with amazement, "You are in your thirties since 1389…."
"More than 600 years…" Hob smiled kindly.
"Fucking unbelievable!" Morpheus observed her childlike wonder, "You've lived for six centuries…holy shit, the things you've seen, the people you've met, you've seen the world change…" she continued in a hushed voice, "I have so many questions! There are so many things I would like you to tell me about!"
"I'm sure Morpheus has seen even more than I have…" Hob smiled emphasizing his friend's name bluntly, "You have certainly seen a lot yourself."
"Yes but it's not the same! Sorry but I don't have as much experience of life as you! You lived through the Renaissance, the Age of Enlightenment, the Elizabethan era, the Victorian, the Regencies! Oh, the history of culture unfolded before your eyes!"
"Believe me it sounds better than I remember it."
"Oh, gowns, balls, beautiful Ladies, classy Gentlemen!" a blush of excitement appeared on her face.
"Ignorance, crudity, poverty, pestilence, wars…" Hob interrupted with a slightly cynical smile.
"Oh don't spoil my fantasy!" she scolded him with a laugh only to become serious a moment later, "My god….you saw both World Wars…" she uttered quietly, "it must have been…oh, I don't even know what to say."
"I'd rather not see the third one," he smiled brightly, "But don't get me wrong, I don't regret a moment of it, each of those times you mentioned had something beautiful about them and I can't wait for the future!"
"So you still want to live." Morpheus mused in a low voice.
"Of course I do! I will never look for death! You should already know that about me!" he replied with certainty.
"How is that possible?" Y/N asked curiously, "How is it possible that you have been alive for over six hundred years?"
"I'll tell you what it looked like from my perspective…" Hob leaned his elbows on the table, moved closer to her and began to speak in a hushed voice, "In the year 1389, I was sitting with my companions in a tavern. We were talking over a drink and a meal as was our custom after a week's work. A discussion about death ensued. And I, being my presumptuous self, started lecturing them even then! Heh, how little I knew back then…" he smiled faintly and took a sip of his beer, "It seemed to me that since I had seen people from my village die one by one, consumed by the Plague, that as I had seen the fallen in battle in Burgundy where I fought under the command of the Earl of Buckingham, I knew what death looked like. Because you see people around me were dying but not me…"
"I remember you called Death stupid," Morpheus chuckled.
"Well because I thought so!" Hob replied and continued the story, "I said to myself 'the only reason people die is 'cause everyone does it' and I really thought so! And I made a decision that I would not die. And I didn't die."
Morpheus watched as sadness seeped into Y/N's fascinated eyes at the implications of his words. For a moment, anger even glimmered in them.
"And you didn't die, just like that?" she queried.
"That same night I met Morpheus who asked for us to meet in the same tavern in a hundred years." Hob smiled at Morpheus, "We have been meeting once every hundred years since then."
Y/N was silent for a moment hiding her feelings in her cup of coffee. Unlike Hob, she knew more about the supernatural forces that ruled the world of mortals. Morpheus could clearly see how the initial fascination and admiration mixed with anger, frustration and sternness. He saw how hard she tried to hide it and how much these feelings tried to flood her. For a moment he regretted asking for her company, for a moment he regretted that his selfishness and desire for her company overshadowed his perception of the situation. He reached out with his hand under the table and gently brushed her leg, snapping her out of her thoughts.
"You should write a book!" she smiled at Hob swallowing all the negative emotions, "It would sell in the millions! I can only imagine how many fascinating stories you could tell!"
"Nay, that's not for me! I'm a simple man, enjoying the simple things in life!" he replied and leaned relaxed against the couch, "But I must admit that you're not all that surprised by my story," he noted, "forgive me for asking a direct question, I don't want to be rude, but are you a human?"
Y/N only laughed warmly.
"Yes I am," she replied, "In a way." she corrected herself, "in a sense… damn, it doesn't surprise me that much because maybe I've already seen too many things in my life. I'm a Witch," she explained.
"Wow…" A gasp of amazement escaped Hob's lips, "A real one, you mean? With spells, incantations, potions, and stuff?"
"And stuff…" she confirmed, " Not many people like me are left in the world."
"No wonder after the clerics and commoners murdered most of you in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries…"
"Many bloodlines were destroyed but as you probably know well many innocents were murdered as well," she finished. "Have you met many famous people?" she quickly changed the course of the conversation, "Mozart? Bach? Michelangelo? Shakespeare maybe?"
"Hah! Will Shaxberd! What a funny little man he was!" Hob laughed at the reminiscence, "He wrote something and performed in the theater, nothing outstanding! His friend Kit Marlowe, that one had talent! But, of course, everything changed after William caught the interest of Morpheus," he looked pointedly at his friend, "You never confirmed it to me, but I know that you made some kind of deal with him. Who would have thought that hundreds of years later people would still be admiring his works."
Morpheus answered nothing only gave a crafty smile.
"Wait a minute…" Y/N's astonished gaze flickered to him. How he loved looking into her delighted eyes, "Are Shakespeare's works your making?"
"Perhaps."
"Oh no my dear, perhaps, isn't enough here!" she leaned closer to him while fascination danced in her eyes, "how many great writers? Lovecraft? Poe? Tolkien? You have to tell me!"
"Later," he replied softly, "I believe that if we start this conversation day and night will not be enough to finish it."
"We have all the time that exists…" she smirked at him.
"That we have…" he smiled at her and for the first time, Hob saw love in the eyes of the once mysterious stranger. Hob Gadling watched with delight as they hung their gazes on each other for longer than acceptable in the respectful company, watched as Morpheus' eyes shone when she smiled slyly at him when she closed her eyes for a fraction of a sec when he took her hand, courteously helping her up, as he watched intently her every move, her every gesture when she said goodbye to him giving her promises to meet him again soon. And even if they did not meet sooner than in another hundred years Hob was happy because he knew that his friend had found happiness, he knew that his friend was no longer lonely.
***
"You'll have to tell me all about Shakespeare!" Y/N embraced Morpheus' arm and let him lead her on a walk through the crowded streets of the city. The day was slowly coming to an end, the sun was setting over the horizon giving way to the enwrapping darkness of night. She looked at him while the fascination and childlike wonder danced in her eyes again.
"I think that of all those you mentioned Shakespeare is the least interesting figure," he smiled at her.
"Did you know Poe? And Lovecraft?!" without letting go of his hand she stepped half a step in front of him and started walking backward, like a child unable to contain her excitement, "Did you know Tolkien?!"
"I have met them all my dear," he replied and the corner of his mouth twitched again.
"Oh, Morpheus! You can't tease me like that! Tell me, please! Tell me about them!"
Morpheus stopped and took her hand, directing it back onto his arm.
"I will tell you about them if you want me to," he looked deeply into her wide-open eyes, "I think I will be able to offer even more than a story," he teased.
"What's that?! Tell me please!" she demanded an answer, so joyful, so excited. He couldn't stop enjoying her delight, her cheerful smile, and her sparkling eyes.
"Let it be a surprise," he kissed her gently taking her argument away. How he loved the taste of sweetness on her lips, the scent of jasmine that invaded his senses every time she was near.
"If you think I can't see what you're doing then you're sorely mistaken," she glared at him with a cocky smile but allowed him to lead her further through the city streets, "I may sometimes be unreasonable but I am not stupid!"
"I have no idea what you mean," he quipped amused.
"Mhm, for sure! That subtly marked dominance of yours, I hope you don't think I don't notice it."
"I have not thought so for a moment, your intelligence and perceptiveness are exceptionally highly developed."
"Don't think that I will always submit to you," she continued, throwing him amused glances.
"There are some situations in which submissiveness can bring a pleasurable outcome," he lowered his voice deliberately and felt a shiver run through her body. Observing her reaction gave him unimaginable satisfaction.
"Excuse me Dream Lord, is my Lord flirting with me? she gazed flirtatiously.
"Perhaps I am," he gazed back.
"And what sort of pleasurable outcomes of submissiveness did you have in mind My Lord?" she smiled slyly.
"Use your imagination," he leaned in and murmured softly.
"My imagination tells me that we should now be anywhere but in the middle of the street," she replied.
"And where would you like to be My Lady?" a blush came to her face as he addressed her with the title.
"Let me think…." she indulged in a daydream for a moment, "maybe in my bedroom?" she looked at him playfully, "Nah, too obvious. Maybe in a 16th-century Gothic castle where I could wear a beautiful, richly decorated, long gown made of black velvet," he liked the vision. "Or on a deserted beach hidden under the cover of night, where I would bathe naked in the pale moonlight," this vision pleased him even more. "Or a gothic masquerade ball where concealed under masks, we could dance and twirl to the envy and admiration of the other guests."
"It can all be arranged," he replied quietly when she stopped again and moved closer to him, closer than he would have liked while being out in public.
"For now, take me home…" she whispered as she gazed into his eyes.
He smiled and pulled her gently away from the crowded street. One of the side alleys was empty, shrouded in the darkness of night, as the single burnt-out lamp provided no light, offering a perfect cover from the eyes of passersby. He reached into his pocket for his pouch of sand, but before he could take it out Y/N grabbed the lapels of his jacket and pulled him close. She took two steps back, leaned with her back against the wall of the building, threw her arms around his neck and pressed her burning lips to his. There was no trace of modesty nor softness in her behavior, there was only pure passion and desire. Without diverting his lips from hers he slipped his hand under her jacket and embraced her tightly around the waist as she clung eagerly to him. Holding her so close, he felt as if he held in his arms Everything, the past, the future, the present, everything that was and everything that would be, everything that mattered, everything he desired, the purpose of existence beyond his function. With his other hand, he reached back into his pocket and in one smooth motion surrounded them with golden sand carrying them back home.
He wanted them to stay like this, as one, in the space between time and place, suspended between Dream and Reality. Like a pair of lovers enslaved by desire. He never wanted to be parted from her, he wanted her to be by his side forever. He wanted nothing more than to make her his queen, to hide her in the Dreaming from mortal life, to make her his for all eternity.
Consumed by love, controlled by Desire, he almost lost sight of Dreaming. Almost…
***
"What's wrong?" you asked when Morpheus suddenly broke the kiss and pulled away from you, "Morpheus I can see that something is wrong."
"Something has changed in the Dreaming," he answered with a gravely voice as his eyes stared into space, "I must investigate."
"I'll go with you…"
"No, "he interrupted you gruffly, "I don't think it's a good idea."
"But…" you tried to continue upon seeing his sudden change in demeanor. Gone was the charming, seductive man who only a moment ago was passionately taking devotion from your lips. The stern King of Dreams stood before you again, and the King of Dreams did not accept disobedience. The cold stars shone menacingly again in his endless eyes and his whole posture seemed to have grown, filling the space around you with impenetrable darkness.
"The affairs of the Kingdom of Dreams belong to me Y/N, and I must attend to them without delay," he stated.
"I understand…" You replied reluctantly and lowered your gaze. Morpheus only came closer to you and tenderly embraced your face in his hands.
"Please listen to me for once," he said after which he kissed you and disappeared in a swirl of golden grains of sand.
You were alone again...
You stood for a moment just as he left you, not quite knowing what to do next. Although the night was deep you didn't feel tired or in need of sleep. It was as if the few hours you had slept in his Kingdom had made your body and mind feel rested like never before. You stared into the space that just a moment ago was filled by Morpheus and felt the emptiness. Two days and nights spent at his side were enough for you to know that you never wanted to be parted from him again. Being by his side was so intoxicating, addictive, as if in an instant he became your whole world, the whole meaning of your existence, every heartbeat, every breath, every thought and every desire.
You sat down on the bed and reached for a cigarette. The thick smoke made you dizzy, only now you realized that you hadn't smoked for the past few days. But that wasn't the only thing you hadn't done in the past few days. You didn't check your phone, your email, your messages, you didn't check your mailbox, you didn't even took the laundry out of the washing machine. "I've completely lost all sense of reality," you thought with surprise noticing how easily you let yourself be drawn into the Dreaming World. "Is this what it's going to be like?" you leaned back on the bed as you continued to drag on your cigarette, "Moments of dreamed fantasy followed by complete emptiness?" You closed your eyes and let the memory of Morpheus' touch, his hands wandering over your body, his greedy kisses exploring every part of your body reignite your senses. You weren't ready to let him go. You craved that fire, craved to feel him with your whole being. His voice carried a pleasant shiver, in his gaze you were able to see the whole world, his touch ignited your soul and mind, made you feel more alive than ever before. You desired to feel that fire again as your hand went up your thigh under your dress. You desired this delight….
Desire...
The storm light flashed through you warningly when you felt a sudden change. You abruptly opened your eyes and saw red. A bright, flashy, vulgar red that shone like a perfectly polished stone. The air smelled of the sweetness of licorice.
"Well hello there…" a smokey, sultry voice reached your ears making you rise rapidly to your feet, "Surprise to see me?" with your eyes you found its source. A blond-haired and golden-eyed stranger was smiling seductively at you, writhing in a chair as red as all the surroundings. Stranger was dressed all in black, with a deep neckline exposing a chest, a feather collar surrounding a beautiful face. It smiled at you, blood red lipstick decorated its luscious lips. "You shouldn't be," the stranger purred like a cat.
"Who are you? Where am I?" you asked in a hushed voice.
"I can feel that you are still searching for something…" it ignored your question, "there, in my Big Brothers Realm."
"Big brother?" you whispered.
"I suppose I should introduce myself…" the being stood up and approached you seductively balancing its hips, "I am Desire," the enticing low voice penetrated you as it graced you with a wide grin.
"You are one of the Endless. A Morpheus sibling," you stated as your heart began to beat with an uneven rhythm.
"That is what I am, that is what I do," Desire affirmed, "I make you want," Desire moved closer to you and deeply took in your scent, "It is me that you feel in the longing, in lust…." with its fingers it brushed the hair off your neck, "you are drawn to these objects, to these feelings, like a butterfly to the flame. But…" a chuckle escaped Desire's lips, "you already knew that didn't you? And yet, knowing that, you gave in to me so easily."
"I think you underestimate the complexity of human nature," you looked at Desire angrily but Desire only laughed.
"If you think so tell me then, what is that you want? Don't be shy…" Desire grinned widely again, "you weren't shy just a moment ago," it remarked. "Or perhaps I should try to guess?" it looked at you flirtatiously. "You want something sensual, or maybe something precious, or…maybe someone special?" humming laughter came from within it, "or maybe you want all three?"
"Go to hell," you growled.
"Yes. I think that might be just the case." Desire circled around you far too close for your liking, "You know, my Big Brother always thought that Endless are servants to you mortals. But I know what you really are. You are a creature of Desire, my creature."
"I don't belong to you Desire, I belong to him," you looked into their golden eyes with certainty but Desire only laughed derisively.
"Oh, how confident," Desire mocked, "you twist and bend as I require it." Desire ran a finger down your arms, "whenever you wake my Big Brother is taking his leave of you. But I'm not. I am always with you right there in your heart," it stopped its hand on your heart.
"You are wrong," you fumed while looking daringly into Desire's eyes, "You confuse lust with love and devotion, which I think are utterly unknown to you. And Morpheus doesn't…." you bit your tongue, certain that Morpheus would not want you to reveal the details of your relationship.
"Go on, continue, tell me what I don't know about my own brother," it challenged you, "But perhaps you are right. Perhaps my brother has changed. It is true that you are a remarkable being. So I think we will see if you are remarkable enough to change my brother."
"Stay away from us," you snarled.
"Oh is that a threat? I almost felt a thrill of excitement," Desire purred in your ear, " Go away, little witch. I'm sure we'll meet again."
And with those words the red before you disappeared. You were in your bedroom again. Your heart was pounding like crazy trying to keep up with your nervous breathing while you got up from the bed, lit a cigarette and ran to the living room in search of the phone. You needed to talk to John, the only human who could understand what was going on in your life. Once again, he hadn't heard from you for several days, but you were pretty sure there was no signal in the Dream Realm anyway. Traveling in the arms of Morpheus also left no opportunity to take your phone, bag, and other things that were so necessary in the Waking World. You didn't need them anyway. Plugging the phone into the charger, you were sure to see at least a few notifications of missed calls and some messages. One thing you didn't expect was the content of the first message that popped up on your screen.
David is dead. He killed himself.
You froze. You understood the urgency that Morpheus had to investigate. You understood why he didn't want you to go with him. It was your fault.
***
The moment Morpheus no longer detected David in the Dreaming he knew something had happened. The Nightmares he had ordered to torture him had returned to the Realm and were waiting to be summoned for a report. However, he had to see for himself first what had happened. He had to make sure his intuition was not misguided. Standing in the living room of his apartment, the truth spread in a bloodstain before his eyes. A shattered skull fragments of brain and blood splattered on the wall and the back of the armchair on which his lifeless body lay. His jaw hung open, and dried blood oozed from his mouth. The stench of feces and decay hung in the air. "He was supposed to suffer longer," he thought while looking at his dead body with dissatisfaction.
"Bloody hell, the bastard was many things but I never wished him such a death," Constantine also looked at David's body however unlike Morpheus he covered his mouth and nose with his sleeve, "Poor son of a bitch."
"Do you feel sorry for him Constantine?" Morpheus asked in a murderous voice, "Do you feel sorry for his death?"
"Yes and no," he replied, "Even the worst bastards don't deserve such a death."
"Perhaps not," Morpheus shifted his gaze from Constantine back to David's lifeless body, "Perhaps he deserved a fate far worse than this. Death…Death granted him an opportunity for an early escape."
"I have to report this to the police," John stated and reached for the phone, "Good thing Y/N isn't here. I don't know how she would have reacted."
"You have very poor timing Constantine," Morpheus remarked after which he stepped away from the corpse and looked into space where a swirl of golden sand began to form from which Y/N emerged a moment later. She looked confused first at Morpheus, then at Constantine before finally focusing her eyes on David's body. She took two steps back and leaned against the wall, Morpheus watched as her eyes widened filling with horror.
"Bloody hell, sweetheart! You shouldn't be here!" John rushed over to her trying to block her view but Morpheus was already there. He filled the entire space in front of her eyes.
"I asked you to stay home," he said in a quiet concerned voice, gently forcing her to look at him, "You couldn't listen to me…" There was no emotion depicted on her stunned face, only her eyes betrayed horror, "Y/N look at me," he ordered. And look she did, she looked straight into his eyes, while horror gave way to anger.
"Would you tell me if I stayed?" she asked rhetorically, "Get out of my way, I want to see him."
"Love, I don't think it's a good idea," Constantine interjected.
"And you what?!" Y/N looked at John furiously, "Some bad cop good cop routine you're playing! Since when did you two even…" she didn't finish, "Get out of my way both of you!"
Morpheus felt a wave of power surge out of her teasing his senses like a current flowing through his body. He looked at Constantine who also felt it, much more strongly, as he moved back two steps and tumbled slightly as if protecting himself from falling.
"Beloved," Morpheus tried again to get her attention, "This is not a sight you should be seeing."
"It's my fault," she replied quietly and pushed him away.
Morpheus did not try to stop her again. He knew that his requests and commands would be of no use, not in this case. He could only watch as Y/N approached the dead body of the Nightmare that had tormented her for years and silently looked at the blood stains on the wall, the skull fragments, the dried blood on his mouth, neck and shirt. She did not avert her eyes, did not cover her mouth or nose, she stood proudly like a statue, breathing calmly and steadily, with a statuesque face betraying no emotion.
"It's my fault…" she whispered quietly.
"You cannot say that…" Morpheus stood half a step behind her, in case she would fall.
"But while it's true…" she continued in a cold tone, "It's my fault. His death, his blood is on my hands…"
"Y/N…" he tried to interrupt her.
"If I hadn't met you if our paths hadn't crossed…" her voice trembled, "One thing led to another. There are no words that….It's my fault Morpheus. I wished the son of a bitch all the worst, I said it to his face, I told him that I would like to kill him, that I would like to feel his neck crack under my fingers, that I would like to watch his life escape," she said quietly and calmly, "I meant it. I said I would spit on his grave. And I wanted it with my whole heart."
"You did not kill him…" the Morpheus voice came from deep within grounding her in reality.
"No, I didn't kill him, not then. Even though I could have, even though I wanted to, I told him I wouldn't stain my hands with his blood, that I wasn't a killer…." she turned her gaze away from David's body and looked straight into Morpheus' endless abyss, "So tell me beloved why I feel like I'm the one who pulled the trigger?".
He answered nothing. He wanted to deny it but that would have been a lie. He put his hand on her shoulder in an attempt to offer comfort. He saw all the joy disappear from her consumed by Despair.
"Be careful what you wish for…" she sneered, "because dreams do come true…"
Part seventeen: Letting go
~~***~~
Author note: Hi friends! My apologies for the delayed chapter. I had a lot going on last week and the last thing I wanted was to give you some half-ass attempt at the story. This week, however, I'm planning to push a bit more, and hopefully, give you two more. No promises though.
I'm curious to hear your thoughts on this chapter. Even if I'm not replying to every single comment, and believe me I'm trying, I am reading each and every one. Thank you so much for all of your comments. You are the best!
For now, as always Dear Reader, I thank you for reading :)
~~***~~
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#morpheus x reader#sandman x reader#the sandman x reader#the sandman#Morpheus imagines#the sandman imagine#Morpheus x you#Morpheus fanfiction#Morpheus fic
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★~Say that Again?~◆
◆-Rating: Super Fluffy to where you'll say "Aww!"-◆
★-Warnings: Swearing, Kissing-★
{Pairing: Cody Rhodes x Kristina Punk}
(This is a Drabble, this does not tie into the "Would you" Series, This is just a story for the time they met when Punk returned. Thank you for understanding <3)
[By the way, I apologize for any mistakes as I do use the Pumpkin or goth rave themes, and I barely proofread this story, making another story based on the events of RAW by the way!]
《Summary: CM Punk introduces his Sister Kristina to Cody and She discovers something new about herself.》
「WC: around 900」
[Kristina's POV:]
"Hey Krissy! Come over here! I wanna introduce you someone" My brother called out to me
"Alright. Coming." I sighed before walking over to him.
I was so confused why he wanted me to speak to someone, we had just returned to WWE so my brain was just unable to comprehend anything.
"Sis, this is Cody. Cody Rhodes" He said
"Hey-" I paused, noticing the visible height differences.
He looked around 6'3" and I was 5'10", on the other hand my brother was like 6'1" or something.
"Holy Shit- your fucking tall-" I chuckled a little
"Uh yeah, Hey." He chuckled
"So.. I'm Kristina, or Kristin." I said trying to clear some of the awkwardness out of the room
"Well nice to meet you Kristin- I'm Cody" He said
"So what brings you to the WWE?" He asked
"Oh, I wrestle. I'm CM Punk's Sister. Who's a little older than Lilith Punk." I said
To get this straight, Me and my older brother CM Punk, have a younger Sister. Named Lilith, we all used to work in AEW until me and CM got fired.
"Oh, Damn. Didn't think you'd actually be a wrestler like your brother" He chuckled
"Yeah, I uh. Just returned recently. After I broke my wrist fighting Nia Jax a year ago." I said
"Oh shit- how are you able to wrestle after that, I mean. I've torn my pec and bicep. But you seem as tough as nails" He said
"Resilience, Mama Raised a soldier not a bitch." I spoke.
"Alright let's go Kris-" CM Punk Said
"Alright See you two later sometime before the show!" Cody Spoke as we walked off
—————————★————————————
After me and My brother went to lunch and came back. Cody was waiting for us
"Hey You two, Back again already?" Cody said
"We would've been longer if Kris didn't decide to eat her lunch faster than ever" my brother said
I hit his arm playfully with a rose tint to my face. I was kinda crushing on Cody Currently. And being my brother was kind of embarrassing me in front of my current crush..
Cody had gave Punk a laugh, leaving me to run off and hide.
"You should probably go apologize" Cody Suggested
"Eh, she'll be fine. I make those kind of jokes all the time" Punk said
Cody said his goodbyes to the other wrestlers and then ran around backstage trying to find me.. who was hidden in my locker room
I had my back against the door lightly crying. Until I heard a knock
"Kristin?" Cody Spoke
"What do you want?" I said still lightly crying
"I wanna talk. To You Kristin." Cody Said
I opened the door and let him inside my locker room, we talked a little about why I had run off.
"You see.. I kinda have a crush on you and my brother made me feel super embarrassed in front of you earlier." I admitted
"Say that Again?" He said
"I have a crush on you and my brother made me feel embarrassed in front of you?" I said confused
Next thing know he kisses me, I guess he felt the same way about me?
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