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i-hate-people-1 · 3 months

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~Mid to west~

Part 2

Eddie Munson x Henderson reader road trip au

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Henderson Reader

Warnings:none

Word count: 3,782

An hour into your trip, you hear the first dreaded “I have to pee.” Of course, it came from Dustin.

"Really, come on, man, we’re barely even a town over,” Eddie groaned, pulling into the next gas despite his sentiment.

“I’m sorry,” he whined, dashing out of the car the moment Eddie put it in park.

“Maybe we should all try to and we can grab some snacks” Steve suggested Ever, the mother of the group.

"Ugh, fine,” Eddie groaned, throwing his head back. “But no drinks!” He yelled as your friends dashed out of the vehicle. “I mean it!”

“There’s no way they actually listen,” you told him, giggling as you got out of the car Eddie close behind.

“My lady,” Eddie said, smiling brightly as he opened the door for you, bowing slightly.

“Why thank you, kind sir,” you said, giggling and curtsying as you walked in.

After using the restroom, you were scanning the isles for a snack. Indecisive as ever, you finally settled on a bag of Cheez-Its, a pack of gum, and a nougat bar Dustin’s favorite for when he inevitably complains about being snacky (when he’s hungry but doesn’t want real food).

"This all,” the teen at the counter asked. Well, you think she was asking, but her deadpan tone made it hard to tell.

"Yup,” you said, smiling.

She looked up from your snacks, her unamused glare fixed on you.

“Hey sweetheart, spot me a pack of smokes?" You felt his arm before you heard his voice as he hung it lazily over your shoulder.

Casual touches like this almost fooled you enough to think that the boy you’ve been crushing on since you saw him perform at the middle school talent show actually liked you, or at least thought of you as more than his friends older sister, but then reality would always come crashing down on you when you remembered that Eddie was like that with everyone the pet names, teasing remarks, and touching. I mean, the boy was a walking ball of love to give, constantly looking for a new friend or a new lost sheep he could take under his wing.

No matter how many people teased him, judged him unfairly, or called him the most unspeakable things, he never gave up and always kept that signature Eddie Munson smile that simultaneously lit up the room and made you weak in the knees.

“Y/N?” Eddie asked, his concern-ridden face pulling you out of your thoughts as his arm slid awkwardly off your shoulder.

“Oh, yeah, I can,” you said, turning back to the unamused teen. “Uh, and a pack of Malboro Reds, please,” you told the cashier, surprised that the frown she was wearing could get deeper.

“You know my brand?” You could practically hear the shock in his voice—a deep blush taking over your cheeks.

"Yeah, I guess,” you mumbled as you paid for your things, purposely avoiding his eyes that were boring into you. “What?” You asked, turning back to look at him and handing him the cigarettes.

His doe eyes were soft, and there was a remnant of a smile he was holding back on his face.

"Nothing,” he answered through an awkward cough. “Come on, sunshine, the ass crack of America awaits.” He finished turning around to grab the door for you.

You quickly followed, telling the teen at the counter thank you and to have a nice day.

As you made it outside, Eddie broke off to go lean against the wall to smoke. As you finally made it back to the van, your cheeks were still ablaze from your interaction.

Everyone but Steve had made it back to the van, already getting settled in, to hopefully not stop for at least a couple hours.

After about 5 minutes, Eddie and Steve returned, Steve having two huge bags of snacks, so you wouldn’t have to get any more, hopefully.

"Alright, hellions, buckle up. We’re not stopping for a while,” Eddie said, pulling out of the gas station. “I’m just kidding. Of course, my van does not have seatbelts.”

***

"Eddie, I’m hungry,” Lucas whined, poking the boy in the cheek. “Can we please stop? You made us skip lunch.” He finished continuing to poke him.

"Sinclair, you poke me one more time, and I’ll cut your hand off and make you eat it. How’s that sound for dinner?” Eddie said it through clenched teeth and crazy eyes.

Lucas stopped his finger inches away from the boy's cheek cautiously after a moment of testing the waters; he seemingly gave up pulling his hand back.

Eddie let out a sigh of relief, unclenching his jaw, and everything was peaceful for about two seconds until Lucas decided that poking the bear was the best idea he could think of, poking Eddie’s cheek once more, smirking mischievously.

“That’s it!” Eddie yelled, pulling off to the side of the road, making all of you tussle in place as he abruptly stopped the car out of his seat as quick as lightning to tackle the younger boy to the ground. He was so quick, you almost missed the smirk fall off of Lucas’s face and the horror take over his eyes.

Which is how you found yourself in the driver's seat, looking out for a place to stop for dinner, with Eddie in the passenger seat slumped down, arms crossed over his chest as he pouted.

"Alright, let’s all get some food in us and stretch our legs, yeah?” You asked as you pulled into the first dinner you’d spotted.

Lucas and Dustin rushed out of the vehicle, the former fully recovering from the tackle he’d taken.

Robin Max and Steve took more time getting out, following the two rambunctious boys.

You, however, stayed in the van, waiting for the boy in the passenger seat to look anywhere but out the window quietly.

"Oh, come on, Ed's, you know you're hungry too,” you said, turning in your seat to face him fully. “And maybe your a tad hangry, and that’s why you tackled Lucas?”

"No, I tackled him because the little shit wouldn’t stop poking me,” Eddie snapped, finally turning to you, and while the vicious gaze of Eddie Munson was terrifying for most people, you thought it was adorable. He looked like a puppy trying to threaten you like a teddy bear with a knife.

“So you’re saying if it had been Steve in the driver's seat and he wouldn’t stop to get you food, you wouldn’t have done the same thing?” You challenged him, raising a brow. His frown softened a bit, a mischievous glint in his eyes, you assume, at the thought of annoying Steve Harrington.

"See, you’d think it was hilarious if it were Steve; your little sheep was just following in your footsteps.”

"Yeah, but they’re supposed to annoy other people, not me,” he grumbled, though you could tell he was starting to come around.

“Oh well, now you’re just asking too much,” you teased. “Now come on, I’ll buy you a milkshake,” you told him, hopping out of the driver's seat.

“Chocolate?” Eddie asked, head-whipped, to look at you.

"Ugh, fine, but I’m going to judge you for it,” you said, rolling your eyes as you shut the door and walked inside, Eddie following closely behind.

“Woah woah woah, sweetheart, are you trying to tell me you don’t like chocolate milkshakes?” Eddie asked, dramatic as ever, his hair whipping around as he shook his head.

“I mean, they’re fine, but vanilla is definitely better,” you said, shrugging. Eddie gasped loudly, clutching a hand to his chest.

“I can’t believe you just said that to me,” he said quickly as he pulled out a seat, gesturing for you to sit down.

You sat down flustered as Robin raised a brow at you, which only made your blush deepen.

“What’d you say to him?” Max asked.

“Get this, Red; she thinks vanilla milkshakes are better than chocolate,” Eddie scoffed before you could get a word.

Leading the table into a lively debate, with some taking your side while others took Eddie’s.

“You guys are all wrong. It’s obviously strawberry." Steve cut in your heads, all turning to him with disgusted looks.

"Okay, everyone can at least agree that Steve’s wrong, right?” Robin asks, eyes darting around the group as you all nod, “All right, it’s unanimous, Steve’s an idiot.” She finishes, and Steve looks offended while all of you laugh.

"Alright, I need to go smoke. You guys stress me out." Eddie shook his head, smiling.

“Those things will kill you,” you said, popping a fry into your mouth.

"Hey, you’re the one supplying me, so don’t get all high and mighty on me now, princess,” Eddie smirked as you rolled your eyes.

“That was a temporary lapse in judgment; I was distracted,” you shrugged, trying to play it cool, though the obvious blush on your face was giving you away.

"Aww, you saying I distract ya doll face?” Eddie asked, leaning in close.

"Ew, dude, are you really flirting with my sister right now?” Dustin interrupted, gagging immediately after he got the question out.

“See what I mean? Little fuckers are so annoying, I’m surprised I don’t smoke more,” he groaned, placing a cigarette between his lips as he stood up and made his way to the door.

“I’ve got to go to the bathroom,” you announced, getting up and speed-walking to the bathroom flustered.

"Really, Dustin,” Max scolded, smacking him in the back of the head.

"Ow, what was that for?”

“You totally just ruined their moment. Eddie was finally growing some balls, and you just stomped on them,” Lucas explained.

“What?” Dustin asked again, and the poor boy was obviously very confused.

"Really, Dustin, do we have to explain everything to you? You’re not a child,” Steve quipped sarcastically.

“What these doofuses are getting at is that Eddie has just now started shooting his shot, and you might have just deterred him for another what is it like nine years?.” Robin explained hoping the young boy would catch on.

"Wait, are you guys saying Eddie actually likes Y/N?”

“Oh my gosh, look at those boys. Sherlock finally figured one out,” Steve said, slow-clapping.

“Shut up, Steve,” Dustin seethed. “So Eddie likes Y/N? Does she like him?”

"Obviously,” Max yelled, quickly apologizing when most of the eyes in the restaurant turned to her.

“So all those times he’s called her hot, he wasn’t just doing that to annoy me?” Dustin asked, still bewildered by the new information.

“While I’m sure that is a perk,Steve started sitting up in his chair to pat Dustin on the back. “He’s got it; he's had it bad since his first senior year,Steve finished shrugging.

“I can’t believe one of my best friends has a crush on my sister, and none of you told me,” Dustin pouted.

“We thought you knew it was pretty obvious,” Max said, rolling her eyes.

“I don’t want to think about that; it’s gross.”

"Well, you better get used to it because our mission this trip is to get them together,” Robin told him as the group nodded in agreement. “And it was working perfectly without us having to do anything but put them in seats next to each other, and you might have just ruined it,” Robin grumbled.

“How am I supposed to know if you don’t tell me?!” Dustin argued.

“Tell you what?” Eddie asked, making the group jump and turn to look at the boy.

"Umm, uh, that there’s been something in his teeth for a while,” Lucas said as casually as he could.

"Nice,” Max complemented under her breath.

“Okay?” Eddie said, taking a seat and continuing to eat his food, “Hey, where’s Y/N?” He asked through a mouth full of food.

“She went to the bathroom,” Steve shrugged, sipping his milkshake.

Eddie’s head instinctively snapped towards the bathroom door, a deep frown falling over his features. When he was met with the beautiful sight of your smile and the crushing feeling that washed over him, he saw a guy, the one making you smile.

Eddie’s glare made everyone’s eyes shift to the bathroom as you giggled behind your hand at something the boy said.

And before the smart part of Eddie’s brain could even think of telling him to stay seated, he was on his feet, speeding faster than he could think.

You noticed him before he could even get a word out, turning to smile at him. “Hey Eddie, what’s up?” You asked, brows furrowed, man; he was so screwed if all it took was you smiling at him to turn him into jelly.

"Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie said, composing himself to smirk at you. “Who's your friend?” He asked, glaring daggers into the man in front of you.

"Oh, this is Chad; he saw me looking at maps and said he’s traveling west too,” you told him, smiling.

“How convenient,” Eddie bit out, his voice lashing in sarcasm.

"Yeah, man, a total coincidence,” Chad said, returning Eddie’s glare.

The two men stood in unmoving silence, glaring daggers at each other. You furrowed your brows, looking between them, rolling your eyes as far back into your head as they could go at your realization. “Oh my, are you two having a staring contest right now?” you asked, shaking your head in disbelief.

You took their unblinking silence as an answer: “Stop it, you doofus!” You exclaimed, smacking his arm lightly.

“Hey!” Eddie shrieked, “You made me lose!”

“Lose what exactly? What would’ve happened at the end of that contest? What would you have won?” You asked, arms crossing over your chest.

“I’m not exactly a hundred percent on the rules, but I’m pretty sure he gets you now,” Eddie deadpanned.

“Dude, I thought we were just asserting dominance.”

Eddie looked at the man with an expression somewhere between shock, disgust, and anger. “And that’s who won, thanks to you, sweetheart.”

“I’m not some prize, Munson,” you scoffed, walking back towards your friends.

"Yeah, no shit. I was joking that dude never would’ve beat me fair and square anyway.”

“I don’t need you to fight my battles or win me, and also, I was just talking to someone new. What is your issue?” You asked, turning to face him as you made it out in front of the diner.

“What’s my issue?!” Eddie challenged, “I don’t know, haven’t you ever heard of stranger danger? The guy was practically eye-fucking you the whole conversation.”

“So?” You asked, making Eddie scoff.

“So? So?” He asked back in unbelief, “You know what? Fine, whatever have fun getting murdered in the back of some creeps van!” Eddie exclaimed, arms waving, as he turned on his heels to stomp to the van.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that,” you said, stomping after him, “and stop walking away.” You grabbed his hand, making him turn to you and ask, “Why do you care so much?”

Eddie pulled you towards him effortlessly, pinning you up against the back of the van out of view of your friends.

His breath was hot and rugged as it fanned over your face, his doe eyes peering into your soul as he examined your face, his gaze darting between your lips and eyes.

“I care because I want you to be mine,” he whispered in your ear, his hand coming up to cup the side of your neck as you sucked in a breath. “You want that, baby?” Eddie teased biting your earlobe, and you whimpered.

"Oh, don’t worry, pretty girl, you will soon enough,” Eddie told you, inches away from your face, lips so close to touching as your body tingled in anticipation. Just as Eddie was about to close the gap, you were abruptly pulled out of your false reality by the very person you made it for. As he shook your shoulder gently, “Hey, wake up, pretty girl, we’ve got to get back on the road,” he whispered, moving some hair out of your face.

A deep blush set in at the pet name—the same pet name he had just used in your dream—coming into the front of your mind—that little voice telling you he knew but there’s no way he could know, right?

The existential crisis must have been showing on your face because Eddie was looking at you concerned. “You okay, sunshine, you look a little dazed. Nap that good?” He asked, quirking a brow.

"Yeah,” you said almost too quickly, "um, I didn’t even realize I felt asleep.”

“Oh yeah, you feel asleep on my shoulder a few minutes after you came back from the bathroom,” he shrugged.

"Well, you have a comfortable shoulder, thanks, pal,” you said, froging him in the arm, quickly getting out of your seat and speed-walking to the van.

“That was painful,” Robin said as she exited the diner behind you.

“Did I just call him pal and punch him in the arm?” You asked, your head falling on her shoulder.

"Yeah, it was pretty hard to watch,” she deadpanned. "Robin,” you whined.

“Right, sorry,” she said as she started to run a comforting hand through your hair. “What even happened to get you that flustered?”

“I kind of had a sex dream about Eddie,” you mumbled, your voice muffled by her shoulder.

“You had a sex dream about Munson, while you were napping on him,?!?” she said a bit too loudly for your taste.

“Shhh Robin”

"Right, sorry, you had a sex dream about Munson?” She repeated it in a whisper.

"Well, kind of, I was woken up before any actual sex happened, but that’s where it was leading,” you told her, finally lifting your head. “What am I going to do? I feel like a perv.”

"Okay, first of all, it’s completely natural, and second, maybe that’s your subconscious way of telling you to, you know, make a move,” Robin said, biting her thumb nail.

“You think I should make a move on him? Does he even like me?” You asked, pulling Robin's thumb away from her mouth.

“Are you kidding me? You were totally just drooling all over him in your sleep, and he didn’t even bat an eye at the guys.”

“I drooled on him.” You half asked, half whined, her head failing back into place on her shoulder.

***

“Did she just call me Pal?" Eddie asked through a dejected sigh, slumping in his seat.

"Yeah, she also drooled on you a little bit,” Dustin pointed out, poking a spot on his shoulder over the table.

“And I find that unbelievably adorable. I’m so fucked. I just got pal zoned. I think that’s worse than the friend zone,” Eddie whined, beating his head on the table.

"Oh, stop that. She didn’t mean anything by it. She just got flustered. She likes you, okay. Stop stressing and dancing around it flirtatiously and just ask her out.” Dustin told him, his eyes rolling as far back into his head as they could go.

“She said that?” Eddie’s head perked up like a puppy who had just been offered a treat.

“Not exactly, but I’m her brother, and a brother knows." Dustin shrugged, standing up. “Just go for it, man, she’s into you. I promise, just you know, maybe don’t do it in front of me because gross.”

“When did you get so wise?” Steve asked, hands on his hips, sassy as ever.

“I’ve always been wise; you deepshits just never notice,” he said, sticking his chin high as he walked off.

“No wonder his head is so big; it’s got to fit that massive ego.”

***

It’s been two hours since you stopped for dinner and 12 since you started the trip as a whole. Eddie had driven for another hour after you stopped before you made him stop and let Steve drive before he felt asleep at the wheel.

Steve and Robin were now in front. Robin passed out until Steve would shake her awake to ask for directions.

And other than the sound of Steve’s quiet humming and soft snores coming from the kids, the van was quiet.

Eddie was out cold the second his head hit the makeshift pillow of his waded-up leather jacket, stirring occasionally to find a more comfortable position.

You were in the limbo between resting and actually sleeping, not completely awake and not completely asleep, when you felt something touch your side. You turned your head, smiling sleepily at the sight in front of you. Eddie, who was already close due to the big group and limited space you had in the back of the van, had moved to lay on his side, one arm curled under his arm to replace the jacket that was now thrown over his body lazily, his other hand poking out just barely grazing your side. You could feel the coldness of his fingers through the thin material of your tank top.

You sat up frowning on the lookout for another blanket, but it seemed that every one was being occupied. After a few minutes of trying to plan in your sleepy state, you finally decided on just sharing yours with him. It wasn’t huge, but you think it could fit over both of you if you shifted a little closer.

You gently pulled the leather jacket off him, setting it aside, grabbing his hand, and moving it closer to his own body as slowly as you could, smiling proudly when you managed to do so without disturbing him.

After shifting as close as you could without actually touching the boy, you took your time situating the blanket, making sure it covered him as much as possible. You finally laid back down yourself, too tired to be anxious about the little amount of space between the two of you.

You had just closed your eyes when another touch pulled you out of your almost-sleep. This time it was more than a few fingers. Eddie was now curled into your side, arm thrown over your waist, head resting on your collarbone without even thinking you started lazily ruining a hand through his curls, making him snuggle into you further. You felt your body relax against him, starting to pull you down into sleep, finally letting it take you. You lay there with a sleepy smile on your lips, content to lay like this the rest of the night. Even if you weren’t really sure where this would leave you, when you wake up, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Relaxing in the heat, his body was now suppling, finally closing your eyes to let sleep take you.

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the-kr8tor · 4 months

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In Deep Water

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 8.7k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader, CW vomit mention, CW Inaccurate medical procedures, CW injury, TW blood, CW violence, TW death, CW guns.

Between the Devil and the Sea Masterlist

Navigation

CHAPTER 7 >>> CHAPTER 8

The laughter gets louder as the source of it shows itself aboard the black hellion, the fog makes way like a curtain opening to start a performance.

Hobie's grip is tight, fingers weaved around your arm, bruisingly strong. Your nails dig into his flesh as the uniformed man tilts his head to look at you, his toothy yellowing grin thrown in your direction. His powdered white wig flutters in the breeze, medals glinting off the single lamp on the bow, hands resting on the pommel of his pristine sword. The angelic figure head is a stark contrast to the devil sneering down.

The blackened wood of his ship groans as it continues to break a part of the revenge. The sails unfurled behind him, blue wings fluttering in the wind.

The angel of death has come.

“Look at what we have here.” He clicks his tongue, eyes boring a hole through your skulls, he narrows them into slits, and like a snake, he slithers as close as he can, tethering close to the edge. There's a flash of emotion in his eyes, snarling, the navy man chuckles, the mere sound makes you want to cower. “Hello little birdy, now how far did you fly to get where you are now?”

Hobie clenches his jaw, stepping over to hide you from his view. His hand never leaves yours, the dull ache from his hold says that this isn't just a nightmare.

You want to wake up even if it means losing his hold on you.

“Oh where are my manners? Mummy would whip me if she ever knew I didn't introduce myself to a lady.”

Hobie shifts his weight, ready to pounce if need be. You grab his shirt, making sure he doesn't do anything drastic. Subtly flicking your eyes to the side, you see the crew do the same. They look at you with fear in their eyes, the hunter’s gazes illuminating their contorted faces.

You can't help but let out a shuddering breath, the sound echoing around the open waters, hoping to get your cry for help to somebody who can do something, anything to get you and everyone out to safety.

“My name's Captain Mathias Bradshaw.” He drawls, thin lips curling into a smirk. “This here is my little merry band of sailors who has a bone to pick with—” pointing at Hobie with his thick finger, white cosmetic smeared on his palms. “Him. The red hydra. I forgot to greet you yet, long time no see you rapscallion.”

You hear Hobie's shallow breathing. Grey eyes thundering, a storm brewing, lightning flowing through his veins. The only reason why he doesn't let himself loose on Mathias is your touch.

“You see here, sweetheart,” The man addresses you and you only. “For the past three years your so-called captain and I have had a bit of a tiff.” He chuckles coldly. “A rivalry of sorts.” He pauses, looking over his shoulder. “Is it still a rivalry if you're leagues above your rival?”

“No, sir.” A gruff voice says, hidden behind the mist.

Mathias turns back around. “Well, we got our answer then.”

Hobie sneakily murmurs to you. “Hide—”

“I'm not done talking!” The sudden outburst makes you jump in your skin.

“You should've been done with your senseless dialogue a long time ago.” Hobie straightens his posture, head held high, a picture of a pirate captain. “Come down here and fight like a fuckin' man, show me your flames and I'll show mine.”

The man scoffs, amusement in his green eyes. “Flames? Yours is barely a spark.”

Hobie scoffs. “Let's be done with it then. Get the closure we both want, fight me in single combat.” Mathias knits his brows, Hobie smirks. “No? Thought you were a gentleman, where's your fuckin' honour?”

A booming laugh replaces Mathias’ scowl. “I guess it died with your little red hair—”

Hobie lets go of you, drawing his gun, pointing it directly at the monster's head. The crew takes this as their cue, doing the same, pointing their weapons towards the men surrounding them.

There's hunger in his eyes, beneath the swirling grey there's a hunger waiting to be fed.

The enemy ships don't even aim their cannons at the revenge, instead they float still in the water, unmoving, the men aboard their ships smirk in your direction like you're being served to them on a silver platter. It's then you notice the sons of the sea’s ship is no more. They took the brunt of the hellion’s collision.

No longer their sails fly, their crow's nest and pieces of wood lay floating in dark waters.

Left behind, slowly drowning in the depths.

You feel droplets sliding on your cheeks, for a second you thought it's your tears. And then more and more of it comes pouring down, splashing on the wooden floorboards.

Thunder booms from a distance, lightning flashes in the sky, lighting everyone's scornful faces.

A few of Karl's men stand with Hobie, clutching their injuries. You don't see Robbie, his lack of presence makes you glare at the sneering men.

“Say her fuckin’ name.” Hobie says through gritted teeth. “After what you did— Say her name.”

“Eh.” Mathias shrugs, “I forgot.” the laughter of his men echoes in the mist.

“You fucker—!” Hobie's hand shakes despite this, he draws the golden gun, aiming it at the navy man whose smirk gets wider.

“I recognize that little blunderbuss.” He chuckles, wiggling his pointing finger, “She pointed that at my head too, you'll be unsuccessful just like she was.”

It takes every fiber inside Hobie to not just shoot and face the consequences later. But he's surrounded, his crew is surrounded, they have no chance of escaping death if he shoots. The only option he has is through single combat and to appeal to the man's ego. He's hoping the idea works.

One look over his shoulder, one glance at your trembling face and he's back to that day, the day MJ was lost. He prays that this day doesn't end the same way three years ago.

“Little dove,” Mathias’ devilish eyes roam over your trembling body. “Look at you,” he chuckles lowly, “I'd say dear ol' Hobie here got an upgrade just because this one's got her head still glued on her neck!”

Hobie almost shoots him until someone from his crew screams, their voice full of malice, venom dripping with every utterance.

“Fuck you!” Gwen exclaims, “Don't you have any honour? She's dead and you're still spitting on her watery grave! After everything you've put her through!”

“Ah! Gwen Stacy, the ballerina turned pirate. How you doin', miss Stacy? I heard your father's still down in the stables, trying to repay his debt to the crown.” he rags her on, scoffing.

“You're still defending her? She's a traitor, a navy spy. The greatest one we've ever had in fact. Her only downfall is loving a bunch of…” he sucks in his teeth, trying to find the word. “Thieves like you. Love got her head cut off and love will be your ruin too.” Flicking his eyes to you, he observes everyone's faces after his tirade.

Hobie steps between Gwen and Mathias, his guns still raised, eyes brimming with the anger of a forsaken God. Yet he remains calm, clearing his throat, standing tall.

“Mathias Bradshaw, I challenge you to single combat, a duel. I win, you let us go. You win and you get to take us all back to the capital.” Hobie's voice booms louder than the thunder above. Lightning strikes near, the water sizzles at the contact. “I know a man of your stature can't say no.”

The man in the uniform guffaws loudly, broad shoulders shaking. “Oh that's hilarious, you think you'd win against me, little pirate? Hmm?”

“Yes.” Hobie doesn't miss a beat.

Mathias smiles, “I guess this one's less messy than what I was planning. Name your terms.”

“Guns only, five bullets. You get shot three times you lose.”

“I'll add a tiny thing to your wager.” The navy man looks over to your direction, pointing his crooked finger at you. “Same terms but I get to keep your little bird.”

Hobie turns to you, wide eyes staring back at you. “No—” He's already shaking his head before you speak up.

“Deal!” You roar above the thunder storm, deciding your own fate. The rain is getting heavier, drenching your terrified self. “The captain will take your terms as long as you honour it.” Nodding to Hobie, he holsters his weapon away from you.

Mathias cackles in the background.

Gently holding on to your arm, you already know what he'll say.

“Don't. Do you know what you just agreed to?”

“I do,” you stare at his raging eyes but they're tender when he looks at you. “I know you can take him, I trust you.” Taking his hand away from your arm, you squeeze him once before pulling him towards you. “Don't play fair, because he won't.” you whisper. “Fucking obliterate him, for MJ.”

Hobie takes you in like it's the last thing he'll ever do. He imprints your touch in his mind, wanting to remember the softness of it when the bullets get too much for him to bear.

He nods slowly, still unsure of your decision. If you trust him enough to sell your soul then he'll fight to the death so you don't have to.

With one last look at you, he turns around, facing up to the man he loathes the most, wanting to just strangle him with his bare hands. Maybe he'll do just that.

For the crew.

Mathias takes his blue coat off, grinning the entire time.

For MJ.

He grabs on to a rope, rappelling off the black hellion, landing in a thunderous impact on the deck.

For you.

Now that he's leveled with your gaze, he's a lot smaller down on the deck, stout with a round belly, face painted with white lead that's currently melting in the downpour. Hobie's taller and slimmer but he makes up for it in his agility and speed. You've seen him fight but Mathias' form could be compared to Finn's build, all muscle and strength hidden behind his uniform.

You're glad this was a duel of pistols if it was any other fight Hobie could be in trouble.

A few of his men do the same, jumping off the hellion while the ones on the smaller ships stay on board but keeping their eyes peeled.

Surrounding the bloodsail pirates, the hands of Mathias' men never leave the pommels of their rapiers. Hobie clenches his jaw, now standing before the king's flame, he can't help but gaze behind the man, back to you and his crew.

Gwen goes to your side, lacing her trembling fingers through yours, Pav sidles behind you, clutching the back of your vest. Miles stands next to Gwen, holding her other hand. You see them look at eachother with a knowing glance and glimmering eyes.

Your eyes meet Hobie's, you give him a nod, eyes full of fury, and trembling lips. You mouth a ‘Bleed him dry’.

The simple act of Hobie smiling at you, makes you tear up. It's the same one he gives you after you patch him up, it's the same one when he handed you the hot chocolate. It's the same smile that makes your heart flutter in your chest.

You're afraid as you part with the crowd to the side of the duelists, lest you get caught in the crossfire. As the one in front, you get a good look at the enemy on the other side, all lined up perfectly like the obedient soldier men that they are. You roam your eyes to their faces, wondering how they could obey a man like Mathias.

You assume the uniformed man walking towards the duelists is Mathias' right hand man. Left eye covered in an eye patch, his hazel eyes observe you. He's carrying a large wooden box, pristine and smooth at the edges with golden locks and embellishments. He opens it with a creak, rain water landing on the wood and soaking the velvet inside.

“You're the challenger, you get the first pick.” Mathias gestures towards Hobie, all smiles like he's not about to meet the end of a bullet.

You stand on your tippy toes to take a peek inside. There are two dueling pistols, flintlocks. One white as fresh snow, one is black like the hellion.

Hobie takes his pick, pocketing what you assume is the five bullets. The black gun in his hand shines when a lightning strikes the mast of the hellion. You hear splintering wood in the distance.

He steps back in place, measuring the metal’s weight in his hand.

“Good choice.” Mathias eyes down the gun. “Death has touched that one.”

Hobie glares, baring his teeth. If only that was enough to kill the man before him.

Mathias takes the remaining gun, wiggling it in his hand. “You ready, little pirate?”

Hobie doesn't show an ounce of fear. “You're going to die today.”

“How confident, confidence alone won't help you aim straight.”

Your entire body shakes whilst they stand back to back, guns raised on their sides. They walk slowly, counting their steps.

The pouring rain doesn't help, raindrops obscuring your vision, the cold mixing in with the ice in your veins.

With every step Hobie takes,

Five

with every hit of his boots on the floorboards,

Four

your heart tries to escape,

Three

pulse hammering,

Two

threatening to give out. Afraid of what's to come. No one else dares to make a sound.

One

Standing end to end on the dock, they turn around swiftly.

After a beat, the man with the box yells. “Fire!”

Bang!

The sound echoes out in the dark, above all the rain and thunder.

Hobie hits his mark, Mathias groans, clutching his dominant shoulder. Smoke bellows out of their guns, dissolving into the rain.

Your words are repeating in Hobie's head ‘Don't play fair’ you say, then he won't play fair.

He notices his bleeding arm, looking down he sees the bullet nicked his skin, leaving an angry gash in its wake. The wood behind him gets the brunt of the bullet, the metal embedding inside, splintering a gaping hole.

You jump when Mathias laughs along the thunder. More and more lightning pierces the sky. You can taste iron in your mouth, not realizing the pain from biting the inside of your cheeks.

They reload, Mathias’ man observing with his watchful eye, making sure they both adhere to the rules; but you highly doubt he's doing it for fairness sake.

Metallic clanking, gunpowder clinking against steel, Mathias' voice enters the fray to your dismay.

“You know, you were too easy to fool.” He starts, finishing up his reload. “You never asked why I left my lieutenant in your hands and why was it so damn easy for you to get my travel documents.” Smiling, the lead on his face melts further, dripping on the floorboards, the white paint mixing in with his blood. “Just like I said, love will be your downfall.”

Hobie doesn't have enough time to squabble, instead he would let his aim talk for him.

“Twenty paces!” The eye patch man yells again.

Hobie and Mathias move forwards, getting closer and closer to each other. You want to put a stop to the duel, but you have to trust Hobie that he'll make it, that he'll win. He has to.

You dare not blink.

“Fire!”

Bang!

Hobie almost keels over, his shoulder heavily bleeds, trembling hand holding his flesh together. You see him smile underneath the pain, following his gaze, Mathias clutches his shooting hand, groaning and hissing. It looks like Hobie shot a hole right in the man's hand. The white gun lays on the bloodied floor, discarded.

Gwen's hold on you tightens, you can hear Pavitr sob quietly.

You catch Hobie's eyes. There's hope in the swirling grey, nodding, you encourage him, mouthing an ‘end it’. He seems to understand, straightening his stance, he reloads the gun as best as he can with an injured shoulder.

Mathias wheezes out a strained laugh. “I gotta hand it to you, your aim is pretty good.” He stands, grabbing his gun on the way up with his uninjured hand. “No matter how amazing your aim is, you're still bloody blind!” He screams, spit flying out of his mouth.

“My two bullets that's in you say otherwise.” Hobie tilts his head mockingly.

“No, no, no.” Mathias clicks his tongue, waving the gun wildly. “You still don't get it do you? You're not asking questions, letting everything fall into your lap, thinking God's on your side on your little revenge quest. But he's not,” he chuckles. “Sacrificing my lieutenant was the best decision I've ever made, especially knowing the fucker can absolutely sing. Loose lips sink ships, little pirate. Do remember that. Especially since you didn't seem to learn from it last time.”

Hobie's face falls, dread filling his chest.

“Bribing the governor to plant my travel documents and telling him to go unwind in a brothel for a couple of days was well worth my coin.” Mathias stretches his shoulder, reloading his pistol with bloodied hands.

He continues. “The two idiots at the gates were…well idiots, I barely had to do anything to them. The lock was a false security to make you sweat a little bit.” The king's flame proves himself. “You're blind. You've focused so much on taking me down that you didn't notice the little details. It's either that or you're also deaf, preferring not to hear your crew's concerns.”

“Not a very good attribute for a supposed captain.” he shrugs, he says his words mockingly.

“Fuck you!” Hobie aims directly at his rival's head.

It's all his fault, everything that led up to this point is his fault.

The gun trembles in his hold. Mathias looks pleased, smiling at Hobie.

“You know the rules.” Mathias sucks in his teeth. “Don't fire until lieutenant Dubois says so or I win and I get your little bird.” he looks over at you. “Oh we're gonna have so much fun together, every night, every day.” His laughter makes you want to grab the nearest knife and shove it down his throat.

You don't back down from his disgusting gaze. “If he doesn't kill you, I will.” Pavitr tries to hold you back. “And it won't be quick.” your voice shakes from sheer anger.

“I look forward to it, duchess.” Mathias spares you one last glance.

You don't notice how Hobie looks angrier than he did, he's clearly holding back. His glare alone could burn a hole through Mathias' skull. Yet he stands tall, getting a second wind; he's gonna shoot a hole in his skull instead.

His head goes a hundred knots per hour, thinking of all the what ifs. What if he just listened, what if he didn't let her stay, what if, what if, what if, the words are tattooed in his mind, clawing and biting at his psyche.

“Ten paces!”

They walk in sync, closer to each other more than ever. Pausing in place, they stare each other down, Mathias' smile never leaving his lips. Hobie's scowl gets deeper with every second that passes.

“Fire—!”

“Fuck this.” Mathias lunges in surprise, grappling Hobie.

Hobie doesn't get a chance to dodge, his gun clattering on the floor as the heavier man tackles him to the ground. The wet floors make it hard for Hobie to find leverage against Mathias who's currently choking him with his large arm.

Chaos ensues, everyone breaks the line, unsheathing their weapons, fighting, steel and skin clashing. Pistols going off left and right, but your main focus is on the two men writhing on the floor.

You hear Hobie choke so you run faster, taking a fallen dagger from a corpse, you quickly dodge people, determined to save Hobie.

“This is what happens when you let your feelings decide for you!” Mathias yells above the mayhem.

Finally making it close to them, in one swift movement, you stab Mathias on his back, crimson ebbs on his white shirt like spiderwebs. He screams, letting go of Hobie.

You don't spare him a glance as you take Hobie by his arm, dragging him below deck. Shutting the doors closed, Mathias bids you farewell with one last cackling.

Guiding him through the corridors, you hope the winding hallways help make it harder for the enemies to find you.

“Y/N.” He wheezes out.

“Don't fucking talk.” Your feet brings you to the galley. Sitting him down, he plops like a fish on the chair, head lolling to the side.

Slapping his cheek, he wakes back up with a groan. “Actually, keep talking. Stay awake, please.”

Hobie nods, “I need to go back up, I can't leave them there.” He tries to stand but your hands stop him, making him sit back down.

“You can't help in this state. Let me treat you then you can go and help.” You look in his pained eyes. “Please, at least let me help with your shoulder.” your other hand fumbles to his back, searching for an exit wound. You already know the answer when you feel the hot crimson weeping out from the puncture left behind.

You plead with your eyes.

“Alright, do what you have to do. Make it quick.” he nods, you leave his side to light a fire in the hearth, laying a metal poker on top of the hot coals. “Can I tell you a story?”

“Whatever keeps you awake.” Taking out the first aid kit from your bag, you notice your hands tremble. They never shake when you're treating someone, with your back turned away from him, you swallow down a sob.

“There was this girl, she had red hair like one of those…” he sighs, injuries aching, throat throbbing. “Apples.”

You reach his side once again, trembling fingers dipping into the wound ointment. “You have a way with words.”

He grabs your shaking hands in his, “Are you alright?”

You pause in your frantic movements, blinking rapidly. “Y-you’re the one who's bleeding right now.”

“You're shaking.”

You twist your wrists away from his touch. “I'm alright, worry about yourself and your crew.”

“You're a part of my crew”

“Shut– just…” you exhale. “Continue your story.”

Hobie nods, eyes drooping. “She just one day showed up on the docks, asking for a place.” He inhales sharply. “I needed to fill the second ship so I agreed, I let her in. I shouldn't have done it.” His eyes well up but no tears fall. “I should've turned her away but she was determined, she had the skills to stay— can you give me somethin’ for the pain? A fuckin' rum or wine, anythin’”

“No alcohol, if you want to bleed out be my guest.” You hold a cloth above his wound, pressing down to stop the bleeding as much as you can.

“Fucker!” He stomps his foot, “you can be such a little shit sometimes you know?”

You can hear the struggle upstairs. Weirdly enough, there's no sound of cannons firing.

“I know—” the ship tilts suddenly, flinging you and Hobie brutally to the side. You do your best to shield his injured self, taking the brunt of the impact, back stinging from the wall.

He lands on top of you, arms on your side, face hidden on the crook of your neck. You can feel his staggered breathing on your skin.

Bottles and pans fly towards you two. Pushing him away, you guide each other to the corner of the room, huddled together, protected by the hearth.

“Shit!” Hobie protects your head with his hand when a pot flies towards you. The ship keeps turning and tossing the both of you until it finally straightens out, you can feel how fast its going by how wild the utensils are swinging.

“Someone got hold of the helm.” He whispers, his cool hand on your tender shoulder. “We're running.” Hobie doesn't say it with pride or dejection, he utters it with embarrassment.

“That's good,” you stand up, giving him a helping hand. “We can get out—”

The unmistakable sound of a cannonball whizzes past and the ship lunges harshly on the side again. You can hear frantic yells from above.

Hobie takes your hand, “I need to get up there.”

Helping him up, you nod. “And you will, let me close that wound off and give you something for the pain and we'll go back up there.”

“Y/N, you can't—”

“We will go up there.” the fire in your eyes makes him obey. “Sit down, I'll make this quick but not painless.”

He flops down, masking the pain with a grimace. Inhaling, he continues. “I let MJ in.”

You pause for a second before taking the metal poker. “Even after seeing all the bloody signs.” He sighs. “Maybe I am blind.”

You hold his face tenderly. “You were, but you still have a chance to change that. You can still help your crew. Make it right for their sake.”

He holds the back of your neck, kneading the skin with his bloodied fingers. “I don't regret letting you stay.”

You look at him apologetically. “You will after this.” Shoving the leather pot holder in his mouth, moving aside his clothes. “Inhale” you place the hot poker directly on his bullet wound, cauterizing the gaping hole.

It sizzles, Hobie holds on to your sides tightly, bunching up the fabric in his hands. Muffled screams eaten up by the leather in his mouth.

You move the rod away once it's done. Hobie's eyes roll in the back of his head. Slapping him lightly, he wakes back up.

“Stay awake, hey. Look at me.” He stares at you through half-lidded eyes. “There you are, captain.” You smile to reassure him. He gives you a tired nod. “Now for the exit wound.”

Hobie inhales, more than ready this time around. His skin is clammy, eyes red from the brimming tears. He clenches his entire body, determined to get it over with. Twisting around in his seat, he hopes the ship doesn't rock as you push the searing metal poker on the back of his shoulder.

With a muffled yell from him, you take the tool away, letting it cool down. Moving his head with your hand, you look at him apologetically.

“I'm sorry, if I warned you first you would've flinched.”

Hobie spits the leather out of his mouth, patting your cheek with his sweaty hand, he leaves it there, stroking your skin.

“I wouldn't have flinched.” He chuckles through the searing pain.

“Of course you wouldn't.” You hold his hand that's on top of your cheek. “You did good.”

He laughs, hand leaving your skin to hold your hand instead. “Not the first time I've felt fire.”

You smile, without thinking, you lay your forehead on his as more cannonballs fly around the revenge.

“You did good too.” He whispers. Eyes closed, he leans away. “Now get me something for the pain and let's get the bastard.”

You smile, nodding to him. Taking a bottle from your bag, you rub mint oil on his upper lip, igniting his nerves, keeping him awake.

“That's the only thing I have that could help. I can't give you alcohol.”

Hobie tentatively stands up, “Maybe after this then.” He groans, slightly limping. “‘m gonna need an entire crate of ‘em.” he thinks adrenaline is enough to keep him on his feet.

He faces you, a ghost of a smile on his pained face. Hobie bends at the waist, you scramble to help him but he refuses with his hand raising to stop you. Taking something from inside his boot, he grabs a shiny and slender thing.

“Here.” Hobie hands a silver dagger to you, intricate carvings of a turtle and a sea snake looping around the glimmering handle. “Somethin’ to defend yourself.”

“Are you sure? It looks—”

“I don't mind givin’ it to you.” He closes your hand around the hilt. “Make sure this one hits his neck this time.”

“I will.” Your eyes fill with determination, adrenaline still coursing through you.

He wobbles towards the door, sparing you a smile on the way.

“Hobie,” you call after him. “Continue your story after this?”

“Only if you tell me yours.” He looks over his shoulder, giving you the same smile he always has.

You scoff with a small smile, “Maybe I will.”

“Let's fuckin’ go and be pirates then.”

—

Getting up the deck was tedious work with all the rocking and shifting from the ship and the wild waves, add that with all the cannon balls whizzing past, it was like riding an angry bull. Meeting halfway with Karl on the way there made it easier, filling your chest with hope.

“Where's Robbie?!” He frantically yells, forehead bleeding, hands gripping Hobie's vest.

“I-I don't know.” Karl's face falls. “But we'll find him, I know he got out.”

“Got out from what?” His voice trembles, “what happened, Hobie?”

Hobie holds his friend’s wrist, “I'm sorry.” Karl weeps. “Go find Robbie and your crew.” He shakes his head. “And get the hell out of here, he's after me not you.”

Karl's eyes fill with tears, flicking towards you who look on with sad eyes. “What about you and the others?”

“We'll find a way out. We always do, remember?” Hobie reassures him with a smile. “Take one of my dinghies, and row the hell out of here.” he takes Karl's hands away from his vest. “We'll see you back at the old place, yeah?”

“You fucking better, Hobart or I'll drown you myself.” Karl takes your hand briefly, nodding. “I hope I see you again, doc.”

“Me too, captain. Find Robbie.”

You part ways with Karl, praying that he finds Robbie and what remains of his men.

“Ready, trouble?” Hobie gets your attention by brushing his pinky against the back of your hand.

“I'm right behind you.”

—

It's war.

The moment Hobie opened the door to the deck you smell petrichor and blood in the air.

You get a glimpse of the battle before he could shut the doors. Bodies, both pirates and navy alike lay motionless on the floor. The sound of thunder mixes in with the pained yells, flashes of lightning illuminates the night sky and you see the faces of the dead clearly.

Two-fingers lay face first on the deck, arms bent at an angle, blood pooling from his head. Through the smoke and splintered wood, Foul screams when a sword plunges through his heart, silencing him immediately. Danny takes a bullet for Finn who promptly avenges him with his cutlass, swiftly separating the man's head from his body.

One face you were hoping was among the dead was missing. Mathias isn't on board.

Something flashes in his eyes when he looks at you. Grabbing your arm, he leans in, your heart stops.

Hobie moves past your head to press his forehead on your shoulder. Bathing in your presence, hand squeezing your skin

“Hobie?”

He smiles, moving his hand up to cup your jaw. Chuckling, he cleans his dried blood off your cheek with his thumb. “Do me a favour, Scuttlebutt?”

“What is it? We need to get up there!”

Hobie ignores you, leaning away. “Survive for me would you? Live, find your family. Promise me.” He sniffs, eyes glinting.

“What?”

“Just promise me, trouble.” He shakes you.

“Alright I promise. Can we—”

“I'm sorry.”

“What—?” Hobie pushes you hard, you fall off the steps, landing on your behind, he exits without looking back, shutting the doors closed. “What the fuck?!”

You rattle the doorknob but it's no use, he locked it on the outside. Frustrated, you try to kick in the door, hurting yourself from the hard wood.

“Fuck! Hobie!” You bang the door, peeking through the keyhole you see carnage as Hobie makes quick work of the remaining men. “Let me help!”

The sound of cannon balls going off almost deafens your eardrums. If only you had your lockpick you could open it.

Your lockpick.

It's a stretch but you still run towards your cabin, feet thudding loudly, echoing around the hallways that you've memorized.

You feel relieved after seeing your door. Shouldering it open, you frantically search for the metal on the shelves. The tip of it scratches your hand but you don't care, already bolting off towards the exit. Running off with your bag tied around you, hoping the medical kit inside is enough to treat the wounded, you hold the lockpick in your hand while you run.

Your hope dwindles with every cannon hitting the ship.

Doors whizz past, ankle stinging, the sounds of screams and gunfire makes you sprint faster.

You don't notice the blood soaked hulking man leaving Hobie's cabin.

Running into him, you stagger, tumbling down, heart falling into your stomach as he looks down at you through his nose.

“Hello there.”

Scrambling to get to your feet, you slide under his legs, stabbing his achilles heel with your lockpick. The man screams in agony, you take the opportunity to sprint like you've never ran before. You'd take running away from O’hara any day.

Your lungs scream for you to stop, but you go on as you hear thundering stomping behind you.

There's no exit and you can't run forever.

The metallic click rings behind you, rounding the corner, you barely dodge the bullet aimed at you, nicking your hip.

“Shit!” You almost fall yet you continue on, entering the library, you shut the doors behind you, locking it swiftly.

Lifting your hand away, the sight of your own blood turns your fear into fury. With your trembling hands, you unsheathe the dagger from your belt.

You have a promise to keep, and you never break a promise.

Hiding behind the armchair you always sat on, you crouch down, gripping the dagger, ready to strike like a viper in the sand.

You look back on what she taught you, “Strike fast and hit hard. Don't give them a chance to get back up.” her voice whispers it to you and you intend to follow it.

The door bursts open, splintering the wood to a thousand pieces.

“The captain wants you alive, little birdy. This doesn't have to hurt if you just come with me, eh?” You hear him chuckle lowly, blatantly lying to you.

His heavy footsteps thud closer.

You use the shadows as your guide, the oil lamp left open on the corner table does the work. For once you thank Gwen for forgetting to close the light.

“I can help with your wound. Glue your wings back together again” he whistles. “The red hydra can't help you with that but I can. I'm a surgeon you see.” Getting closer and closer, you time your strike right.

You come out of your hiding place with a battle cry. Still crouches down, “I highly doubt that!” Slicing his tendons in one quick movement. The second he falls to his knees, you stab him in the neck.

Stepping back, he chokes in his own blood. With wide eyes you flinch when he stands, seemingly unaffected but his shaking pupils say otherwise. With a garbled noise from your assailant, he reaches for you.

“What the fuck?!”

With a split second decision, you dodge his hands, moving backwards, throwing books from the shelves which bounce almost harmlessly on his head and body.

There's a loud thrumming sound outside, its warbling is almost mechanical but definitely something an animal could've made.

He heard it too, pausing in his movement for a second before he lunged towards you. With a scream, your back against the corner, he jumps you.

Your head hits the wall in an ugly crunch, seeing stars, sliding down the wall, landing on the floor, he chokes you with his bare hands. Indistinct noises escape from his mouth, your dagger nowhere to be found in his throat. His entire body hides anything in front of you, drowning your vision, filling it with your murderer. His blood drips down on your face, almost drowning you in it.

You know he's running on fumes but based on your vision fading, lungs gasping for air, you think you'd go out first before him.

Hands grazing something metallic on the floor next to you, you inch your fingers towards it. Finally finding your grip, you smack it on his head.

You've got a promise to keep after all.

He yells, the oil from the lamp spreading on his skin and clothes, engulfing him in flames.

You frantically roll away, killing the fire clinging to your clothes until there's nothing left but burned cloth.

The flames light up the entire room in orange and reds, the paper around him helps feed the fire as he tries to desperately put it out.

There's that thrumming again.

You watch on, holding your tender neck. Your face is flat, eyes reflecting the fire that's quickly eating at the man. Fabric burns on his flesh, flesh turns into charred muscle, the fire eats at that too until he falls, silence hanging in the room except for the fire cackling, ashes and flames surrounding his corpse.

You stand up, ratty shoes stepping over fire to grab the fallen dagger with a thick cloth from your bag.

For a second you stand amidst the fire.

The thrumming outside and the warmth wakes you up, flames licking at your clothes, it's heat scorching your skin, nose filling with smoke. Even with all the pain you still escape with your life, determined to keep your promise.

Running outside the former library, the cracking of splintering wood fills your ears, you instinctively dodge, backing away before the mast of the revenge falls on your head.

Shielding your face, you cower. The mast stills, sharp wood lay next to your feet. Tentatively opening your eyes, the sounds from above are clearer in your ears, all the screams and guns going off, you hear it loud and clear that you can decipher whose screams belong to whom.

The fog enters below deck through the gaping hole left by the broken mast. All the while, the smoke from the library rises up, replacing the mist.

Your exit.

You don't hesitate to climb up. Jagged edges of sharp wood rip amd snag your clothes, stabbing your skin. Finding leverage, you manage to prop yourself up on the deck, meeting face to face with a lifeless Ned.

The light in his eyes is gone, unsung music escaping from his open lips. Skin dirtied by flowing ichor.

You don't hear anything else other than skin meeting skin in a brutal dance.

“No.” You quickly jump up, leaving the fire behind you to consume, to devour what's left of the revenge. “Ned?”

Desperately feeling for a pulse, your heart wretches in your throat, saliva filling your mouth, bile rising up from your gut.

There's no pulse.

With a choked sob, you close his eyes for him. The sound of wet punching makes you turn to your side. Hobie's eyes are wild, vicious and desperate, bloodied knuckles pummeling the man under him. Skin broken, nose cracked, skull open for the world to see. Yet, Hobie doesn't stop even with the obvious signs of death. Fueled by rage, he paints the wooden floorboards with the man's brain.

It all feels sickenly real, your heart is still beating in sync with his punches but there's so much death around you that you feel like you're a part of the dead. Blood and smoke filling your senses, adrenaline slowly washed away like the tides.

You're sitting in a graveyard and nobody else has noticed.

“Hobie.”

His fists pound harshly through the man's head, splintered wood now embedded in his skin.

You apprehensively crawl towards him, your various injuries aching, blood seeping out from your hip. The chaos around you still continues on while he still doesn't stop.

“Hobie—” your fingers brush his arm, he flinches back, fist raised to knock you out. But he halts, knuckles kissing the tip of your nose, painting it with crimson.

With wide eyes, he heaves, muscles tensed, grief all over his expression. You shove your fear down, holding his raised knuckles, moving it away gently. You hold his face in your other hand, smearing the fresh ichor on his cheeks, staining your own skin.

“It's done, he's dead.” You nod, caressing his face, turning it away from the carnage below him. “Hobie,” you unclench his fist carefully, shattered bone and hair sticking to him. With a shallow breath, you let the tears flow on your cheeks. “He's dead.”

His face flashes with fury only to be triumphed over by misery. With a heavy heart, he nods.

Behind Hobie, a uniformed man raises his pistol, without a second thought, you take the golden blunderbuss from his waist, hastily aiming it directly at the man's head.

Your ears ring, the smoke from the gun blinds you for a second before you see your target fall dead with a bullet right between his eyes, blood splattering like fireworks from his head.

Hobie looks at you in surprise, taking his gun away from you carefully. Hands soft on your raised skin. He pats your cheek and you could only shake your head.

“We need to—” the ship collides with something, Hobie holds you close, covering you away from debris. With his embrace, he protects you. Scarred hand on the back of your head, face hiding in the crook of your neck. Leather, sea salt and blood invades your senses.

The hellion is once again looming over the revenge, its golden façade cracking under the damage made by Hobie's ship.

Mathias shows himself, looking worse for wear, he wobbles on two feet, clutching his injuries.

You hear footsteps around you, raising your head, eyes widening at what's left of the crew, they stand behind you and Hobie. Wiping blood off their faces, reloading their guns, sharpening their swords. The red sails of the people's revenge still fly above, more than ready to take what they're owed, no matter what it takes.

Gwen's blond hair is dipped in ruby red, hands tight around her blunderbuss. Miles wipes his face clean, stepping next to Gwen with clenched jaw. Pavitr stands directly behind you, face covered in what you hoped to be someone else's blood. He nods, reassuring you.

Yuri and James take one look at Ned, their expression alone could make you weep again. Finn, crouches down next to you, nodding wordlessly, blue eyes glossy.

Hobie exhales, with shaky legs he stands up, helping you back to your feet. Gripping your knife, you scowl at the man above.

“How cute. The power of friendship isn't enough to save you.” Mathias says through gritted teeth.

The rest of his crew arrives, there's less ships than before, proving how the bloodsail pirates is a force to be reckoned with. They have what Mathias doesn't have, giving them something worth fighting for.

Mathias nods, signaling his ship to turn their cannons towards you and your family.

You step in front of Hobie. “I have a proposition!” Yelling above the rain and metallic clanking, you push away Hobie's hand from your shoulder.

“What is it?” The man rolls his eyes, looking incredibly bored. “We can't be here all night.”

“Me,” the crew voices their concerns, Hobie takes your hand, face terrified.

You smile, “it's alright.” Whispering to him and the crew only. With tearful eyes, you turn back to the devil above. “You seem like you really want me, so fucking take me instead. Let them go.”

You feel the heat beneath your feet. The fire devours everything just a few feet below you.

They all yell your name behind you. Protests fill your ears but you choose to ignore them. You feel his calloused fingers squeeze your hand.

The man guffaws, “Holy shit! You like them that much?” He observes Hobie's contorted face.

“You like her that much?” He chuckles. “You know what? I don't even want you that much, sure, get on up here, birdy!”

There's that thrumming and warbling again. It's much clearer now that you're above, it seems like it's coming from beneath the ship.

“Come here and take me then!” The rain mixes in with your salty tears. Raising your arms, shoving everyone away, you taunt him. “But let them go or I'll plunge this dagger through your eye!”

“Christ, you're as insane as him. Perfect for eachother eh?” he sighs, gesturing for his cannons to cease. “I'm already satisfied even though a few of your men escaped from a dinghy but eh, I'm sure I'll get them soon enough. Just like how I'll get you one day, little pirate. I'm a very patient man, I'll wait three more years if I have to.”

Hobie's face is full of anguish when he swivels you around to look at him. “Don't fuckin' do this. He won't keep his word,” he flicks his eyes to Mathias, then back to you, grey eyes darker than before. “the moment you step foot on that ship he'll kill you.” his mind comes back to that fateful day.

He can't let that happen again, not to you.

You look at him softly. “I know, but I'll make it hard for him, that'll give you enough time to escape. Hobie, I have nothing else, just this.” swallowing the lump in your throat, there's heat under your eyes. Taking his hand, you squeeze it once. “Let me do this, for you and for them. You still have to get your revenge so let me do this. Don't let him win.”

“You promised.” His voice cracks.

“I don't think I can keep it now.” You flick your eyes behind him, the crew looks on with grief marring their eyes. “They're too young for this, Gwen, Pav and Miles, they deserve to live too.”

You hear the rope fall from the hellion's deck. “I'm glad I got stuck in that net even though you made me walk the plank.” chuckling through the tears, you give them your best smile to remember you by.

“Don't leave.” he pleads.

Sliding your hand away, you take one last look at them, making a sketch of their faces in your mind to remember when the inevitable happens.

“I have to go now or this won't work.”

The captain has no plan on how to fix it, how to fix everything, and he beats himself bloody for it.

Turning around, with every step you take feels heavier than the last. You make amends to her in your mind, praying that it reaches back home. You also thank her, but you don't regret running away that day.

You'll never know what lies for you up north or if there's someone there waiting for you. If there is someone, you apologize to them too.

You leave traces of yourself to the people behind you with the hope you live on through those pieces. That at least they won't forget your name.

The howling wind and rain whips at your drenched form, committing the feel of it to memory.

Grabbing the rope, you fight the urge to look behind.

“Hurry up, birdy!” Mathias cackles. “Come on then—!”

The thrumming is deafening, everything seems to freeze mid motion.

Giant mounds of flesh rise up from the water. Snake-like features curl above, rising to the heavens, cutting through the grey clouds.

You can't help but be mesmerized by the beauty of it. Iridescent scales glimmer against the lightning, cracked scales teeming in gold. the lightning bolts ricochet off their scaly skin, unharmed.

More serpents appear from the depths, towers of scaled flesh. They rain sea water from above, dripping from their massive bodies.

One curls just above the hellion, opening its eyes, revealing an entire ocean in its orbs.

You can't stop looking at it, petrified.

“Dragons.” You say in awe.

“Y/N!” Hobie races towards you. His hand brushes against your shirt, so close yet so far.

You get yanked up with the hellion, grip still frozen on the ropes. Holding on for life, the beast has curled around the ship, in your peripheral you see men jumping off, splashing down into the depths, taking their chances in the cold.

Facing the creature, they trill and thrum, crushing the hellion and the navy ships in their massive jaws and swirling flesh.

You wake up from the trance they had you in, almost losing your grip off the rope.

“No!” You screech, saving yourself, arm socket straining against your weight. Twirling the rope around your hand, you tie it just like how they taught you.

Palms burning on the hemp, looking down, you're hanging high above the revenge. You watch as the crew frantically unties a dinghy while Hobie and Finn stay behind, they're too far for you to make out what they're doing.

Your only chance is to jump in the water but you know that'll be the end of you.

Water parts for something swimming fast under the water, it moves towards the Revenge. You scream their names in an attempt to warn them.

“Gwen!” Your throat struggles from the screaming. “Brace yourselves!”

The serpent crashes on the starboard side, away from where the small boat hangs. Hobie clings to the remaining mast, knife in his hand. Heart pounding, you watch as Gwen runs towards Hobie, he yells, she shakes her head but in the end she bolts for the dinghy. You nod, hoping she saw that you forgave her.

The beast constricts around the helion, crashing the oak and its gilded carvings in its wrapped body.

You sway in the wind with the serpent’s movements, praying that the rope hangs on to the figure head. The figure head of an angel looks down at you, lifeless eyes observing your slow demise.

This is the end for you, you've never thought you'd be killed by a mythical being turned into reality but here you are, hanging on by a thread, waiting for death to come.

With one last glimpse at the revenge, you see the fire finally reaching above deck. Gwen and the others lower down on the dinghy while Hobie grabs onto a rope, cutting the knot off the steel rings, remembering James' teachings, if he keeps doing that he’ll get yanked up, and with the wild wind, it will surely be a disaster.

You yell his name in a futile attempt to stop his effort at saving you.

Finn raises something in his hands, heaving it over his shoulder.

You sharply turn your head when a snapping sound fills your ears. The hemp untangles, with the rope breaking in the middle, you close your eyes.

The sea serpent lets out a guttural scream, the sound alone sends shivers down your spine. It uncurls around the hellion and you get a glimpse of a sharp harpoon sticking out from its eye.

Falling with the hellion, the serpent's eyes turn from blue to a bloody red, bathing everything in its gaze in crimson. it's the last thing you see before you shut your eyes.

You feel a familiar arm around your middle, looking over your shoulder, you think you've already died.

“I've got you!” Hobie yells, with him carrying you and his hand grasping on the rising rope, he struggles to hold on.

So you help him, wrapping your arm behind him, you hold the rope in the other, face close to his as you two fly above the revenge, swinging and whipping uncontrollably in the storm.

The beast trills, jaw unhinging, its rows of shark like teeth in full display.

“Shit!” Hobie manipulates the rope to swing you two away from its sharp teeth.

It fails to catch you, instead it turns its attention to Finn on the deck.

“Finn! Run!” Your blood curdling scream gets his attention, yet he pays no heed.

But everyone already knows it's too late, with one last fight in him, he raises his harpoon, yelling, meeting the serpent's opened mouth halfway.

It swallows him whole.

You just stare at where Finn once stood, he leaves patches of his ichor on the floor.

The revenge sinks, fire and water engulfing Hobie's home, your home.

“Love!” The name rots in his mouth, it gets you out of your frozen state. “I—”

The last standing mast cracks and breaks apart. You lose your grip on Hobie.

And you fall once again. For a second you fly, eyes peering towards the clearing sky, with white clouds in your vision, you brace for impact.

“MJ!”

That's the last thing you hear as you fall in the depths in a harsh splash.

A/N: so sorry for the late update!! Hope you like it 🫶 (if i forgot to put any warnings on the tags please tell me)

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saradika · 5 months

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STAR WARS - 2023 FIC RECS

this year has been filled with so many beautiful fics, I wanted to make a rec list to share & support everything I read. please check these out and support these creators, they are all incredible! 💖✨

ANAKIN/VADER X F!READER

— Breathe Me In by @moonlight-prose

the jedi fell and darth vader rose to power, but there’s a secret he hides even from his own master.

— When Midnight Calls by @ladyxskywalker

anakin steps into the refresher, noticing how you left the door open for him, the steam filling the room inside from the misty hot water.

AXE WOVES X F!READER

— The Lady and the Merc by @flightlessangelwings

“The pleasure,” the leader took your hand, but instead of shaking it, he brought it up to his lips and kissed the back of it tenderly, “Is all mine,” he gave you a wink as you felt your skin burn under his touch, “And call me Axe Woves.”

BRASSO X F!READER

— Steadfast by @uwingdispatch

He pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead before pulling back to look at you in that way only he could, with those bright eyes. “I think we should stay,” he said.

BOBA FETT X F!READER

— Be With Me by @imarvelatthestars

"It's late," he says.

— Boba Fett is in Love With You by @janghoefett

He’s known for some time now.

— Ex Libris by @daimyosprincess

There's much to be learned from the handsome professor Boba Fett, both about yourself and your pleasure.

— Kinktober Day Five: Virginity by @sinfulsalutations

You’ve never felt this small before.

— No Mercy by @daimyosprincess

Fennec Shand is many things, markswoman, assassin, the daimyo’s right hand, but merciful is not one of them. That's why she's the only one Boba Fett trusts to take care of you when he's away.

— Sound Asleep by @moodymisty

You swore you hadn’t had a nightmare since your childhood years; But even then, you couldn’t remember one like this.

— Small Favors by @daimyosprincess

The day Boba Fett called you a hellion, you were pretty certain it altered your brain chemistry.

— The App by @maybege

The App tells you who your perfect match is. But when Josh, your perfect-match-alpha, introduces you to his boss, you start to realise that the numbers are not always right.

DARTH MAUL X F!READER

— Dread by @bits-and-babs

a strange creature visits your dreams, promising to satiate a yearning body he heard call to him across the force. | incubus!maul

— Serenity by @eloquentmoon

lord maul interrupts your nighttime stroll in the woods

ELIA KANE X F!READER

— Eat Your Young by @imarvelatthestars

It's the way she looks at you that does you in, the blatant hunger that glints in Elia's eyes, the knowledge that she always has you just within reach and that you'll always fall for her time and again.

GALEN ERSO X READER

— I Didn't Know The Time by @ladyxskywalker

an unseasonable rain causes an unexpected shift in your new year’s plans, but, as it turns out, both of you wouldn’t have it any other way

GRAND ADMIRAL THRAWN X F!READER

— Amuse Bouche by @bits-and-babs

A state dinner leaves the Grand Admiral wanting far more than was offered.

— Show of Good Faith by @bits-and-babs

grand admiral thrawn has a unconventional way of convincing neighbouring planets to pledge allegiance to the empire.

KINO LOY X F!READER

— I Want You to Show Me Weak by @tarabyte3

You're pretty sure Kino Loy hates you. He screams at you, grabs you, and shoves you against the wall, and it's becoming a problem because, well...it shouldn't fluster you as much as it does.

— Ownership of Mine by @amywritesthings

The Empire has integrated their prison systems, with you as one of the few women now incarcerated at Narkina 5. The unit manager takes you under his wing – but for reasons you didn’t anticipate.

OBI-WAN X F!READER

— Dust to Dust by @avarkriss

A generous gift bestowed upon a very pretty desert hermit

—Kinktober Day 5: Table Sex by @flightlessangelwings

“You wished to see me, Lord Kenobi?” you asked from the doorway to his office where you stood at attention.

— Serve My Worries Away by @friskynotebook

In which Obi-Wan gets in a fight with a printer and the printer wins.

— Sweetend Craving by @moonlight-prose

“he’d want the last thing he ever heard to be the sound of you tipping over the edge, falling into a bliss you both craved.”

— What’s The Harm? by @obixwan

Quinlan set Obi-Wan up with a friend and now, Obi-Wan can’t help himself.

POE DAMERON X GN!READER

— Because You Left by @againstacecilia

“What happened? With us?” / “We just… Grew apart. That’s all.” / “No, I don’t think that’s it. Not entirely.”

THE CLONES X F!READER

— Better Than The Universe by @sinfulsalutations

Rex enjoys the mindlessly affection-filled morning he deserves

— Kinktober Day 15 by @samspenandsword

Overstimulation with Daddy Rebels!Rex

— Keep In The Heat by @sinfulsalutations

Wrecker is cold. His girl knows a solution

— Return To Sender by @keravnos-kori

halla has been alone for the past three years. as it turns out, relocating to coruscant and attending a prestigious university hasn’t been as glamorous as she originally expected - but when a new opportunity comes along for her to prove the republic’s injustices committed against clone troopers, she might get more than she bargained for when the power structure suddenly collapses and is replaced by something far more sinister…

— Strategies in Fliration by @floral-force

When you take a risk and join your friends for a night out, a handsome stranger sets his eyes on you. You boldly approach him and ask him what war tactics he has in his arsenal. | captain rex

— Sweet Thing by @starrylothcat

Wrecker has a crush on you, a local sweet shop owner. Will he find the courage to ask you out?

— Some Rex and Relaxation by @daimyosprincess

After a hard week, Rex makes it his mission to see that you forget all about it.

— The Coffee Shop by @samspenandsword

You own a coffee house on Coruscant famed for its especially strong and rare brews. One day, you find yourself meeting the Marshal Commander for the Coruscant Guard.

if you haven’t read these, you need to! and please support these amazing fics & writers by reading, reblogging & commenting! 💕

#fan fic recs #fic recs #please support these creators!#boba fett x reader #captain rex x reader #obi wan x reader #darth maul x reader

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trashmouth-richie · 7 months

Text

pt 1: flicker

summary: Hawkins Annual Halloween Festival is in town, and this year you and your friends were lucky enough to work the event. But when some of your co-workers are missing, and a trail of blood leads to the woods behind the festival. Your friends work together to find out what’s going on. A killer is on the loose but who could it be? Or is it the town’s spooky secret of what really happened at Hawkins Lab?

[tickets] [flyer] [clipboard]

pt 2: A SCREAM AND A SLICE

summary: the day is finally here and our joyful crew arrives to get their assignments for the work day.

tw: 18+ only goodbye minors, billy hargrove smut, billy hargrove being a disgusting human being, mentions of drinking and drugs, character death x 3, hallucinations, drunk behavior, etc childhood background stories.

The air is cool and crisp, fluttering an ombré of red and orange leaves all over the carnival. Staff was to arrive no later than 8 o’clock, sporting burnt orange Hawkins Haunted Carnival shirts with red hems on the neck and arms. “STAFF” printed on the back in black bold letters.

Robin's hair and makeup looked exactly like it did last night, a little smudgy and unkept, the style suiting her personality and image to a T. She was holding onto Steve’s arm while picking gum from the bottom of her dirty converse.

“Fuck I hate kids,” she grumbled, wiping the last bit of the pink wad of bubble gum on the grass.

Argyle, Nancy, and Jonathan stood and watched. Nancy with her hair in a perfect pulled back ponytail showcasing her bone structure and light makeup, was wide eyed and bushy tailed, making up for the lack of enthusiasm everyone else brought with them this morning.

Argyle’s long pin straight hair is braided down his back, and he looks almost half asleep, or maybe he was just high, but more than likely that was just him in general.

You yawned loud behind your hand for the second time since racing into the parking lot, Eddie poked you in the ribs and shook his head, he had wanted to stop at the gas station for some badly brewed coffee this morning upon finding out that your apartment was lacking any sort of caffeine, but you were already going to be late and Mr. Creel’s speech last weekend about not being on time, would scare anyone straight.

That is unless you were Billy Hargrove.

Billy rolled in a full thirty minutes past the time all staff were expected to be dressed and ready to go. A cigarette hung lazily from his mouth and the hickies on his neck were splotchy and fading yellow on the edges. He was clutching a can of beer upon walking over to the group, finishing the contents and tossing it behind his shoulder.

His chin nodded to Eddie in that douchey dude type of greeting. One he reciprocated with flared nostrils and tense shoulders.

Billy and Eddie used to be as thick as thieves, running like hellions through the trailer park, with you trailing behind them, trying to keep Eddie out of trouble. They had disturbed any little sort of peace that the tenants ever found there. They tormented the occupants of Forest Hills by egging their houses or lighting bags of dog shit ablaze on their steps.

But the boys were left to their vices much like their parents were. Neil and Al knew each other from high school, oftentimes spending nights at the Hargroves kitchen table laughing after many beers about the cars they’d stolen and the broads they shared. Hands around their chests like parentheses to emphasize the breast size of one in particular.

Billy’s apple didn’t fall far from Neil’s tree, a ladies man but rotten to the core. However when it came to Eddie and Al, it was almost as if Eddie’s apple was from a different tree entirely, rough on the edges and a little banged up, but the inside was sugary sweet, much tastier than the sour bite Billy’s had to offer.

You never forgave the blue eyed boy for pushing you off your bike, a scar still etched into your knees, or for chasing you around with a snake he caught by Coolwater Creek.

Eddie wiped your tears when you cried to him about how mean Billy was. His own brown eyes welling seeing you so upset. He convinced him to leave you alone. And since that day, you were the driving wedge between them at 8 years old and you stayed there up until last year, when the tie that bound them together was ripped apart.

“You’re late Billy-boy,” Mr. Creel sneered, the pierce of his blue eyes shining like heated crystals, “do you not own a watch?”

“Just got in,” Billy said with a yawn, his muscular arms stretching over his head and showcasing his abs when his shirt rode up.

“I guess I wasn’t aware you had another job.”

“Oh I’m not paid for this type of manual labor, I do it for free.” He glances over at you and shoots you a wink. And the shiver that shook through you was anything but pleasant.

Steve rolls his eyes, pulling Nancy into his front and resting his chin on the top of her head.

Eddie shifts to the side of you that billy is closest too and blocks his view. He made your skin crawl like it was infested with bugs.

You didn’t like him anymore than he liked you, Heather Holloway was one of the sweetest girls you’d ever met, and to this day you couldn’t figure out why she fell in his traps. He didn’t care about her, only used her to keep his bed warm when he was out doing God knows what with God knows who. His dick was dirtier than a pile of laundry, and he was out of detergent.

“Let’s not make this a habit, we have a festival to run, and you,” Mr. Creel says, thumbing through a clipboard, “… are on Corn Maze Duty until sun down, then you’re driving the Haunted Hayride like we discussed last week.”

“Munson, you and Pebbles? Is that a real name?,”

“no,” you say with a laugh, nudging Eddie in the ribs, he was the only one called who still called you that after your moms had decided to dress you both as Pebbles & Bam Bam for Halloween one year, for Eddie, the name stuck, “it's a nickname from when we were—

“Don’t care.”

“You two are on rides, Hairyten—

“It’s Harrington,” Steve interjects but Mr. Creel doesn’t stop.

“.. will take over for you at sundown and then your ‘band’ takes the stage.”

Billy scoffs around a lit cigarette and Eddie puts a hand on your shoulder to stop you from reaching around him to slap the mustache off his face.

“Girl Wheeler and R-guy-el are on games… Buckley, you and Hairytoes will be working the ice cream stand, Byers you’re in charge of taking promotional photos. Please make sure the children are smiling. I don’t need any snot nosed little brats blubbering while getting their face painted like a clown, it will drive down sales.”

Jonathan nods with wide eyes, checking his bag with fumbling fingers making sure he had extra lenses and plenty of film.

Nancy stands at attention, flipping through her binder full of the game rules, she had been studying it all week, not wanting to give Mr. Creel any sort of assumption that she wasn’t taking her position seriously.

“Relax Nance,” Steve purred, a little louder than a whisper, “you’re gonna kick ass at this.”

You didn’t know Steve Harrington was capable of being supportive of another person until Nancy came along. When they first started going out Eddie and you took bets on whether or not it would last. Nancy wasn’t anything like the other trashy girls at your school throwing themselves at King Steve any and every chance they got.

She was reserved and shy. Pretty in a classy way, minimal makeup needed on her cherub features. And Steve fell hook line and simp er for her. He lost friends, lost his title at school but he didn’t care. He felt unstoppable with Nancy on his arm.

It made you wish you had a love like theirs, minus the breaking up part, you had dated before but nothing that would last.

You remember spending a very drunk night with Eddie once on the roof of his trailer, begging him to tell you who he thought was the hottest girl in school. Going through every grade, every single girl from the mathletes to the athletes, the teased hair of Tina down to the short bob of Barb, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Come on, Eddie .. that was every girl in the school besides Shit teeth O’Donnell.” you laughed and rolled into his chest, spilling beer onto his shirt, your chin sitting on his sternum as he looked at you with a serious stare.

“Not every girl.”

“Yeah huh,” you poked at his ribs and his armpits only for him to overpower you completely and pin you down, the ends of his hair tickling your cheeks had you squealing.

“Say uncle or I’m gonna make you piss yourself.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

The dark glint of mischief in his eye wasn’t lost on you,

“D’ you know me at all?”

The night ended with your jeans and underwear in Eddie’s washing machine, his boxers on your waist after you took a shower and used all of his conditioner. A $3.00 payback for him actually tickling you until you peed yourself, you were just happy Wayne wasn’t home when you waddled through the Munson trailer with wet pants and a hyena laughing Eddie behind you.

Diversion was his best game, because he never answer your question.

“Remember.” Mr Creel said pointing to you and Eddie, “two minute rides if there isn’t a line, one minute rides sounds perfectly fine, three minutes and they’ll puke on the floor, 4 minutes and you’re at Satan’s door.”

He recited the creepy poem without blinking, simply looking from your face and back to Eddie’s, a grim smile on his Curt lips. When he was through he turned on his heel and walked away, snapping at Heather and Chrissy to get to the face painting station.

“Well that wasn’t weird at all.” Eddie said, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised into his frizzy bangs, clearing his throat.

“Yeah no shit,” Steve grimaced, “such a weird mother fucker.”

Nancy shut her binder and spoke to you, “sorry about last night— I think I’m just a little stressed.”

“No worries, Nance, Eddie ended up staying at my place and we smoked a bit and went to sleep.”

“Don’t forget about that weird shit with the streetlights,” Eddie chimed in.

“Streetlights?” Jonathan asked you, “what about ‘em?”

“Nah man it’s cool,” Eddie chirped in, lighting a cigarette and offering it to Jonathan, “Pebs and I smoked a little too much, thought we saw some weird shit, that’s all.”

“Well, my lights went out last night, went outside to check it out and the whole street was dark.”

Maybe you weren’t high as fuck lastnight on Rick’s Redrum. What if there was actually something strange going on.

“Did they turn red and explode?” you ask him, trying not to seem too alarmed that someone else who wasn’t high and on the complete opposite side of town experienced the weird lights.

He picks a scab on his arm between blunt fingernails, uninterested in the conversation, “no idea, just noticed they were burnt out..didn’t see anything else, but hey, I’ll see you guys later okay, I forgot my wallet.”

With that he turns and leaves, holding his satchel close to his body so the expensive camera attachments don’t break.

Steve and Nancy kiss each other goodbye and Argyle steps forward to Steve batting his eyelashes, “what about me handsome?” He laughs before Steve can smile awkwardly and walks beside Nancy, asking about her new Reeboks.

“Six months since we played truth or dare at Munson’s and that guy won’t let it go,” Steve says, shaking his head, “see ya later, don’t have too much fun,” with that he grabs Robin’s elbow and directs her towards the Scoops Ahoy stand.

Eddie laughs at the memory of a peachy cheeked Steve leaning in to press his lips to Argyle’s. A dare that had Nancy in tears, and had you comforting her for an entire week.

It was the same night that you had drunk almost an entire handle of vodka and woke up naked in Eddie’s bed, next to Jonathan.

To this day you don’t remember what happened.

You left in a hurry when you woke and realized the sleeping body next to you was not only naked but belonged to Jonathan Byers, and you didn’t have any panties on.

Grabbing your clothes and shoving your feet into your shoes, you stepped over Argyle’s cocooned form in the hallway— using the bathroom rug as a blanket.

Tiptoeing over the squeaky parts of the linoleum floor you made a glance to the living room and saw that Eddie was sawing logs in Wayne’s recliner.

You felt dirty, full of shame and guilt as you looked at him forlornly, not able to nail down why you had felt that way. Eddie and you were friends, nothing more than that.

The door shut behind you in a quiet creak and you sped home as fast as you could, bleary eyed and confused.

Thankfully, Jonathan wasn’t upset when you told him the next day that you didn’t remember what had happened, and he was relieved, chuckling with a hand on the back of his neck, because he hadn’t remembered that night either.

You vowed to never tell a soul about that night, and you waited for Eddie to ask you about it, to make some crack about him finding your panties in his room, but he never spoke a word of it.

You stifle a nervous laugh, “yeah that night was crazy.”

“yeah no shit, Wayne’s still mad that I ruined his cowboy boots.”

You smack his chest with the keys, laughing at the memory of his white ass and wild hair running down the dirt road, wearing only Wayne’s boots and his cowboy hat to cover his dignity, the first dare of the night, “c’mon, Munson, I’ll race ya.”

The day flew by, people came from all around to shove their asses into the metal seats of the rides you and Eddie were in charge of.

Kids of all ages ate melty ice cream and got their faces painted into princesses, witches, pumpkins and spooky ghouls and goblins.

Eddie’s little gaggle of DnD buddies from high school ran through the carnival like they owned the place. Hootin’ and hollerin’ making themselves look like a bunch of assholes, and you wondered if he sometimes missed that part of being in school.

Steve and Robin were fending off Erica Sinclair and her many attempts at getting free samples, but realizing if they did give her what she wanted, they’d run out of ice cream and have to close up earlier than expected. Erica Sinclair would later leave the carnival with a sugar high and a stomach ache.

Argyle gave away the giant stuffed bear on the first ring toss game, earning him a psychotic look from Creel and whiny kids all day not having anything to look forward to when they won, but nothing a few coupons to Surfer Boy Pizza wouldn’t fix when the parents got involved. Nancy was almost in tears at the way Argyle didn’t follow the rules and his dude-like approach to the day's events.

—

Robin was in a mood, her normal chaotic rambling mouth self was eerily quiet today. An abnormality for the freckled face girl. And Steve was doing what any normal best friend would; hounding her on what the hell was going on.

“Drop it pretty boy, I mean it I am fine!” She tossed the ice cream scoop back into the carton container and slammed the freezer door, huffing and lighting a cigarette.

He saw the way her demeanor changed when Vickie showed up to the carnival with her boyfriend. The same boyfriend who Vickie had promised Robin that she had dumped months beforehand.

Steve watched as Robin’s eyes flashed with hurt and anger as Vickie sauntered up to the Scoops Ahoy booth, no look of guilt or shame anywhere on her porcelain features, she acted completely oblivious to Robin’s behavior, like she had never even met her before.

“She’s a bitch Robin,” Steve jabbed, hooking a thumb over his shoulder and wiggling his keys, "I'll go run her over with my car right now if that’d make you feel better.”

She had to admit, watching the light leave Vickie’s eyes might make her feel better. The crushing of her bones would play like a symphony in her head. She wanted her to hurt just as much as she was right now.

“Nah,” Robin says shaking her head, “not worth it, let’s just get day drunk instead, or better yet,” she pushed her ass onto the counter, and swung her hips out to the opening, her long legs hitting the dirt and crunching beneath her converse, “is Argyle still working games with Nance?”

—

“That’s what I’m sayin’ man, fuckin’ aliens and shit,” Argyle says with blood shot eyes, “this town, it’s crawlin with em, you’re not one of them are you, Byers?”

Argyle was on one of his many pot induced tangents about aliens and monsters. It was hard to tell if he was just high or if he truly believed in multi dimensional beings that walked the same paths we did but were hidden from us by the government.

“I think,” Jonathan says, adjusting his camera around his neck and holding it to eye level, “that you spend too much time with Munson,” he angled the camera just right and snapped the shutter button. Capturing candids of kids throwing softballs at steel milk jugs set into a triangle.

Argyle wipes his upper lip and throws a braided lengthy lock behind his shoulder, “and how do you know Eddie is wrong? M-Maybe Dungeons & Dragons is real. And the dice is like, the days we have left,” his eyes widen further as he licks at his lips absentmindedly, rambling on, “Eddie’s putting us all into little situations, so he’s like a- a god or a master! Like figurines and shit…”

Jonathan tries his best to drown out Argyle’s stoned ‘epiphanies’ knowing all too well the rabbit hole he’d fall down and wouldn't be able to see the light of day until the lasting effects of purple palm tree delight subsided.

Argyle’s eyes go wide, “…yeah I hope I got a long sword or something, I’ll definitely need it.”

“DnD isn’t real,” Jonathan huffs in annoyance, “it’s a fantasy game, one designed to make you think outside of normal everyday life, at least that’s what Will says.”

“Will the Wise,” Robin calls from behind them, her long fingers tangled in her hair, trying to put her short cut into two little ponytails, “isn’t that what they call him?”

Jonathan nods, “yeah, yeah it is.” A smile of appreciation on his face, “how’s ice cream going? I saw Vickie… sorry.”

“Love that kid, and yeah that’s why I’m here, need to forget,” she says leaning against the softball toss, the toe of sneaker catching the knee of Argyle’s colorful pants, her forefinger and thumb up to her lips, “you carrying today or do I actually have to pay Munson?”

“Nah little birdy, I’m all out,” Argyle says with eyelids half closed, “but I heard Rick’s runnin’ some new shit, kinda psychedelic like.”

—

By six in the afternoon, Eddie was crabby and ready for Steve to take over. His hair was sweaty and a bandana was tied around his head. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, showing off his muscles and the tattoos on his arms.

“Take it easy with this shit, ‘m serious,” Eddie says passing Robin the joint and pocketing the cash, “we saw some weird shit last night after smoking, just go to the woods or somethin where no one will see you.”

Robins fingers clasp the paper of the joint and hold it into a loose fist, she bows and salutes Eddie, “Aye aye cap’n, I promise, I’ll be good.”

He watched her leave and shook his head. He didn’t know the entire ins and outs of Robin’s relationship with Vickie, but he knew enough that Robin was hurt more than she was happy, and he felt bad for her.

At least Robin was brave enough to be her true self. Eddie couldn’t even tell the girl he had a crush on for years that he liked her.

“These kids are fucking assholes,” he said to you when you brought him a lemonade and bummed him a smoke, “yeah I’m talking to you Mayfield, shouldn’t even be on this ride with two broken arms but what the hell do I know?”

The redhead flipped him a double bird and yelled out, fucker! as her basket on the Zipper spun faster and faster.

“Were we like this sophomore year?” Eddie asks you around a puff of smoke.

“Oh absolutely not,” you said matter of factly, “we were worse.” A smile breaks from your lips and Eddie returns it, only his crinkled out your favorite dimple.

“Fuck man,” he exhaled, hitting a random button on the ride, and raising his eyebrows when it beeped back at him and shook the baskets loudly, “this whole town still thinks I did that shit to Higgin’s dog.”

It wasn’t a secret what had happened. And as much as everyone swore it was Eddie who did that heinous crime, he was with you that night, stealing cartons of cigarettes from the gas station while the attendant was busy trying to get your number and look down your shirt.

You knew Eddie was innocent but the town wasn’t convinced, even Wayne questioned him for a while about it. But Eddie wouldn’t squeal on you, knowing that you were just as guilty as he was, and he wouldn’t tarnish your squeaky clean reputation. Not even to save himself.

“We know the truth, and that’s what matters,” you breathe, stealing the cigarette from his hands and placing it into your mouth.

Eddie shakes his head, “yeah I know, just wish we knew who did do it.”

“Ri runno Raggy,” you said using your best Scooby Doo impression, “rits a rystery.”

Eddie chuckles and shows you his dimples again, a pretty blush painted on his cheeks, “you can always get me to laugh, even when I’m pissed the fuck off at some little shits.”

He plucks the rest of the cigarette from your lips and takes the last drag between his thumb and forefinger before flicking it off into the dirt.

He brushes an eyelash from your cheek with his knuckle, and he holds it there for a bit, unconsciously licks at his lips, “That’s why you’re my favorite,” he admits for the one hundredth time, but it still felt good to hear. Still made your stomach somersault and the glittery butterflies flutter.

Before you can say anything the kids on Eddie’s ride start screaming to get off, having been spinning upside down for over the time limit. Satan’s door according to Creel.

“Shit,” he mutters before turning the ride down, the heat on your cheeks and the burn from his finger still there.

—

“c’mon I know you wanna,” the clink of his flask unscrewing followed by the chugging slurp from his throat burned her ears, but not more than the red pock marks on her forearm from his cigarette ashes.

She didn’t want to lose him, she knew how lucky she was that he tolerated her and kept her around. After all he only fucked the other girls to piss off their boyfriends. But she meant something to him. Right?

“Are you sure no one will see us?” She was used to the thrill of being with Billy, mistaking the fight or flight feeling for adoration, the crazed look in his eye for lust.

He was everything all the other guys in Hawkins were not. A legendary bad boy. All leather jackets and tight jeans, the prettiest eyes she’d ever seen, a fast car that smelled of musky cologne, cigarettes and sex on Friday nights.

He had shown her things only seen in movies, hickied her up in spots that only he would see, and fucked her in places that would make Satan himself jealous.

Heather Holloway was completely wrapped up in everything Billy Hargrove brought to the table, only to be leaving starved for more.

“Who fuckin’ cares,” he grunts, lighting a cigarette and blowing it towards the orange painted sky, “ain’t nothin’ they haven’t seen before.”

She obeyed like she always did, a simple okay Billy and she was on her knees in the soft upturned soil, nothing but a single row of pale yellowing corn stalks behind her, rustling against the breeze and knocking against one another in a broken violin screech.

She adjusts her dark curls away from her face, and waits with an eager mouth for what he has to offer. The teeth of his zipper purr as he undoes his pants, holding a thick meaty cock up to her pretty lipgloss smile.

He’s putty in her hands, rocking his hips up to shove himself further into her mouth, and he groans when he falls into her wet throat.

Fuck Heather, that’s it.

He doesn’t hear the scraping of the corn leaves on a quiet shoulder, or the way the dirt crumbles underneath footsteps. He’s high above it, drunk on the feel of his dick in Heather's mouth, and the slight graze of her teeth against his shaft.

The blade is dull, taking much effort to slice through the muscles of Billy’s back and angling upwards beneath his ribs into his lungs.

Billy gags and gurgles on his own blood, noises that could be easily mistaken for pleasure. The knife is unsheathed and slid across Billy’s throat in a fluid motion spilling claret colored blood down the front of his shirt, he’s dead before he hits the ground.

Heather is frozen with fear, she lets out a scream that’s stopped cold by the blade puncturing her temple, her lifeless body falling to the soft ground with a thud.

The blade is wiped clean. Any blood splatters are left on the mask and hidden in the tree line, their lifeless bodies are stuffed further into the corn maze, vacant expressions on their cold faces.

—

“… Jesus Christ.”

“Beautiful isn’t it?”

Standing 10 feet tall and brandishing slick, gray translucent skin, the flower head shaped monster screeched at the sight and smell of blood pumping, racing.

“Exactly how he described, I can't believe the tunnel leads here.”

“The tunnels are all over Hawkins, he designed it, just like they said he would. Now c’mon, sun is about to set and I need help figuring out this code, son-of-a-bitch wrote it like a damn puzzle.”

—

Eddie wasn’t kidding, the strain was powerful. Robin was walking in a dream land of brownie covered ground and licorice grass. She was seeing things; beautiful, ominous, things she wouldn’t be able to describe.

And she knew she was high when she heard a high pitch scream from the corn field on her right— damn this shit was good.

Her face was sticky and so were her hands, the sky spun above her as she laid flat on the cake bed ground, watching the tangerine soda sky as it shifted above her like a kaleidoscope.

But no matter how many times she blinked her eyes, one piece of the dream never blurred away. A figure standing straight in the air below a tree branch.

Upon further eye squinting, Robin realized she recognized it to be someone she knew very well.

She had seen those eyes before. She had felt those hands on her skin. And the gold ring on the delicate middle finger looked way too familiar to just be a coincidence.

But there wasn’t any way that this could be real, just a prop for a good gag right, or the everlasting effect of the funny smelling joint from Eddie.

Because why was Vickie standing stone still..? With a large knotted necklace around her pretty neck, covered in red paint, and why wasn’t she moving?

♡ thank you for reading, please consider a rb, or dropping a comment below, I would love to hear from you and your thoughts on this chapter.

♡ currently receiving messages in my askbox on who you think the killer is

part 3: THE ROCKSTAR AND THE REDLIGHTS

♡tag list: @dashingdeb16 @emxxblog @mopeymopeymouse @pretendthisnameisclever @mommybaby-witch @eddies-acousticguitar @tlclick73 @figmentofquinn @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @whenshelanded @micheledawn1975 @3rd-conchord * @leelei1980 @mopeymopeymouse @browneyes8288 @emilyslutface @mmunson86 @josephquinnsfreckles @eddiesxangel @elegantkoalapaper * @str4ngergirlw0rld * @corrodedcoffincumslut @nailbatanddungeon @katethetank @munsons-mayhem28 * @mandyjo8719 @joannamuns9n @littlebookworm86 @hunnybuns-world @littlegingerbat

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #stranger things #Steve Harrington

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danikamariewrites · 11 months

Note

Hello! Could you write a story where reader falls into the frozen lake and Helion saves her and then takes care of her? Thank you!

P.S

Your stories are awesome! ❤

Chills

Helion x reader

A/n: Thank you anon❤️ Also all I can think of is that scene in Little Women when Amy falls in the lake while skating lmao

Warnings: lil bit of angst and eventual fluff

You had always loved the snow and bundling up in warm comfy clothes. When Helion told you that you were visiting the Winter Court for a week you were ecstatic. You and Viviane are close so you were also excited to spend time with your friend.

Once you arrived and saw Viviane you both started screeching as you held onto each other. As your husbands talked about court politics she took you around the palace. You had hot cocoa and gingerbread cookies by the fire in the grand sitting room. “So,” she starts, “how are things with you and Helion? I feel like I haven't properly seen you since the wedding.”

You and Helion had gotten married five months ago. Since then life has been hectic with him following in Rhysands footsteps and making you High Lady of the Day Court. “It's been wonderful. A little hectic with the High Lady stuff but that's what we have our little club with Feyre for.” Viviane giggles throwing her snow-white hair over her shoulder. “It certainly is.”

“But everything between us is the same, if not better.” Ever since the wedding Helion has been more attentive to you. And you're not complaining. “I'm surprised you're not pregnant yet.” Viviane laughs. You feel your cheeks heat up at her comment. Before you can respond Hellion and Kallias walk-in.

Kallias speaks first “Now that politics are out of the way are you two ready for the fun to start?” Viviane claps her hands together, pulling you from your chair.

The couple took you to the frozen lake behind the palace to ice skate. Viviane told you that Helion requested that you do this during your visit because you had always wanted to learn. After a few minutes of Viviane and Helion teaching you, you could skate on your own. “You're a natural!” she yelled across the lake as you floated effortlessly across the ice.

As the four of you skated around and talked for the afternoon you became more confident in your skills. Going out farther across the lake and circling back into Helion's arms. On your latest pass of untouched ice, you felt a crack under the blades of your skates.

Trying not to panic you take a tentative step back. You heard Helion calling your name but you were too focused. Taking two more steps back to try and step back on thicker ice, the ice around you splintered. Before you could react, you fell into the icy water.

Your eyes were closed and you were kicking your feet wildly. It wasn't doing much, the skates weighing you down. You resorted to relying on your arms to attempt to carry you to the surface.

Opening your eyes you could make out the hole in the ice and three shadows above you. You heard a splash and felt Helion's strong arms wrap around your waist.

You hit the freezing surface, coughing and sputtering, sucking down air. Kallias and Viviane we're apologizing profusely. Helion held you to his chest as Kallias winnowed you all into the grand sitting room.

Viviane ran to get you both new clothes as Kallias added more logs to the roaring fire. You were shivering violently. Helion pushed wet strands of hair from your face, “You're ok, I got you.” he said. After Viviane brought your clothes and a towel, she and Kallias left, closing the doors to give you privacy.

“Do you want me to help you change?” You nodded in response, too cold for words. Helion strips you of your wet clothes, drying you off as he goes. Once he's done he changes himself and sits with you in front of the fire. He pulls you into his lap, rubbing your arms to warm you.

“Thank you for saving me.” He pulls you closer, tucking your head under his chin. “I'll always save you, my love.” You relax into his warmth, the chill finally ebbing from your body.

tags: @nyotamalfoy @auggiesolovey @bubybubsters @baybay123455 @msiecrane

#acotar fanfiction #acotar reader imagine #acotar #acotar reader fic #acotar imagine #high lord helion #helion x reader #helion x you #helion acotar #helion spell cleaver

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minicoffee00 · 7 months

Text

My Angel Amren x Reader

Plot: Amren finds her mate once she is resurrected into High Fae but she’s in denial and doesn’t think she is deserving of a mate.

Warnings: heavy fluff (finally) little angst at the start

You'd watched as the cold otherwordly woman had sacrificed herself to the Cauldron. You look over at Feyre shocked, Amren didn't know it but you felt a certain bond with her.

You'd talked to Rhys who was just as confused as you were. When he was in your mind it didn't feel like a mate bond, and he couldnt smell it when you were both in the room. He said he'd get Clotho and Gwyn to do some research for you to find out the tug you felt to her.

Once she was subject to the Cauldron, when she came out in her god like form, tears formed in your eyes, knowing you'd never get a cooling hug to snuffle out your burning heat of your Autumn Court veins. You'd never see the twinkle in her eyes when you gifted her things you'd found on your travels as Rhysand's Night Court Bounty Hunter.

"No" you'd said as the gaint bird like spirit took flight burning through the warriors outside the Cauldron, Feyre came to your side and held you as your knees collided with the floor.

After loosing Amren, you were in a bloodbath daze. You'd run out the room pulling your hood up and slaying anyone and everyone that got in your path. You were trying to follow Amren's true form, hoping that she could return to her mortal body. That there was a spell to undo what she had done.

You didnt snap out of your daze until a scream similar to yours that held untamed power rumbled over the lands.

You looked over seeing Feyre gripping at your High Lord's dead body and the sight made you freeze, yet the power didn't transfer it lay stagnant in Rhysand's body as if expecting him not to fully leave this world.

Feyre begged the High Lords, until she had to resort to threatening them, you came up behind all of them. You were a sight of power right now, the blood of Hybern Warriors covering your face. You stepped up, sword at the ready to challenge any High Lord to a duel if they didn't obey your High Lady's wishes.

"I suggest you listen to my High Lady and get to fucking work" you grit out, immedielty Hellion bends down extending part of himself out to Rhysand. After this the others followed in tow, you didn't have to even growl out your threat at Tamlin who seemed to have already made up his mind and help.

Everything went so quickly as Rhysand was gifted life, and he'd dragged Amren back from the pits of the Cauldron. She emerged in a High Fae body, and as your eyes locked on her's you felt you whole world click into place. The tug towards her, you mate. And it finally made sense why the bond wasn't fully there before.

Your soul was tied to Amren's bodied personality and her form, not the death god that was inside her all that time. You couldn't be tied to a god being a mere bounty hunter.

But now that Amren was here in a High Fae form, she could even feel the bond and her eyes didn't waiver.

"Interesting" Rhysand add's from below you as he watches between you and Amren, now being able to feel that mate bond the two of you held.

"It's not possible" Amren spat out looking over at you. In seconds you were running over to her, jumping into her arms and holding her face inbetween your two hands, looking over every part of her face, to make sure this was real and you hadn't given up on the battle field and had joined Amren in the End.

"Amren, I know now" you voice lets out a breathy sigh. She keeps holding you, rubbing her cold hands that you'd grown to love up and down your arms, testing for herself that staticy feeling from the bond she felt when she touched you.

"Know what?" she asks making eye contact with you.

"Why there was a tug to you before, I've been falling in love with you ever since i came to the Night Court to help Rhysand when Azriel found me. And i never understood this bond i felt between us, i should have trusted myself"

"I - also hold a certain level of affection for you that is above what i hold for most" she admits looking at you. She takes your hand dragging you away from the crowd that was still milling about.

Once you are in a secluded location, her thumb swipes across your cheeks, attempting to rid the crusting blood that remains.

"Oh god, i must look awful right now" you admit worry flooding around the bond.

"Mmmmm you look gorgeous my terrible little bounty hunter" she says, her voice icy making a shiver run down your spine.

"I'm yours?" you breath out.

"Always my mate" she smiles diving her head into your neck, sniffing in deeply to hold you sent, burning logs and sunshine.

A/N: Do you guys have any really good Acotar recommendations for me, on Wattpad. I just finished reading A Curse for True love right after finishing ACOSF and now I’m moving into House of Earth and Blood but I low-key am feeling the ACOTAR emptyness!

Also once I’ve published my Lucien, there’s going to be another upcoming post, so your guys know what’s to be soon!

TAGLIST:

@cat-or-kitten

@sstrohma

@horneybeach1

@its-sam-allgood

@starryhiraeth

@xcastawayherosx

@glitterypirateduck

@azriels-mate123

@mavropouloupanagiota

@chasing-autumns-chill

@justdreamstars

#amren acotar #amren #amren x reader #acotar #acomaf #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfiction #a court of mist and fury #acowar #acosf

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datenightfright · 7 months

Note

Hey, can I request father!Nyarlathotep x daughter!reader headcanons?

This is so cute! I love the Elder Gods as parents.

He's INVESTED in his daughter the moment he hears her cry. The very definitely of 'Daddy's Little Girl'

Nyarlathotep is actually a wonderful partner to have a child with. He feeds the baby, changes diapers, teaches her to walk and talk, and when she does weird Eldritch Things (tm), he's there to help sort it all out.

Father-daughter dates are a must. He takes her across the universe whenever the mood strikes him. She's a well traveled young lady.

He's the kind of dad that play princess tea party with his daughter. Pink feather boa, crown, and his pinky out as he sips real tea out of a cup.

Oversees her education, obviously. He sends her to the best interdimensional private schools an Elder God can afford. He cries when she first leaves, but writes her every day.

When she gets her first significant other, he's surprisingly cool about it, he loves his little hellion and just wants her to be happy. But when they break up all bets are off.

10/10 good dad, doesn't go crazy overboard with his affection for her and isn't afraid to let her fall down and pick herself back up. But woe be the person that fucks with his family.

#nyarlathotep #lovecraft #h.p. lovecraft #headcanons #penelope writes #ask answered

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nerdieforpedro · 9 months

Text

Tell me how you want me

Fanfiction 18+ MDNI

Word Count: just under 5k

Masterlist / Marcus Pike Masterlist

Marcus Pike x plus size OC (Isabella)

Summary: Marcus Pike is not trying to go to this cookout. It turns out though, he found a sleepy woman that happens to be the best thing that could happen to him.

Warnings: Smut, light BDSM, edging, oral sex (male and female receiving), established relationship, rough sex, after care, unprotected P in V

“Hey just stop by, I promise it will be quick.”

“Your backyard parties are never quick, especially when the cooler comes out. I’m not going.”

“Molly says she wants to see you, make sure you’re still alive. So do your nephews.”

“You didn’t have to mention the nephews Phillips…” Agent Pike sighed, leaning back in his chair. Pike was a sucker for the two little hellions, adorable since they’re both five years old, but double the trouble, he didn’t know how his wife did it with the long hours they have to file reports on these criminals who think they can hide behind art purchases funding their drug money.

Fellow Agent Phillips had been trying to get his partner Pike to stop buy his house for a backyard BBQ. His wife Molly insisted on it, she said he needed to get back out there in the dating game. Phillips said that they shouldn’t butt in because he’s a grown man and hadn’t indicated at any point that he wanted to be set up. Molly was not one for a no, so Phillips decided to ask Pike to join them for the last cookout before the fall really kicked in. It was still sticky and humid during the day but now cool in the evenings.

“I’ll stop by for a bit, say hi to Molly and the twins, then I’m out.” Pike stated flatly.

It would be very hard to do, but the last few years, he had gotten better at putting himself first, guarding his heart. He wouldn’t throw it away anymore as he had better standards for himself. Standards that had lead to some dates and some romps in bed but nothing substantial, not like he had with Teresa, but looking back, was it really? Had he ever really a solid relationship with a woman outside of family, acquaintances and colleagues? Pike knew he loves to please, but he was trying to work himself out of a decades old habit that found him in relationships where women he’s with call him a good man but they leave him for another guy they marry. Pike saw the evidence on social media.

The fated weekend comes and Pike is at Phillip’s house as promised with gifts for the boys and Molly because his parents taught him manners when visiting. It was one of the many selling points Molly mentioned when making the rounds with Marcus, he grinned and smiled through it all, only to be saved by Dean and Bobby running up to him and wanting to push them on the swings connected to the play set. Pike was so thankful for rude little boys.

“Uncle Pike, was mommy walking you around like a show pony?” Dean asked and he tried to climb up in the swing, his brother Bobby laughed to him as he was already in the swing.

“Mommy said it’s a waste he isn’t coupled up? Does that mean like Mommy and daddy? Some of Mommy’s wine friends mentioned that too.” Bobby told his brother, proud to know something he didn’t. Pike sighed at their discussion and knew he was going to have a long talk with Phillips about this.

“Don’t listen to what you mom and dad say, your Uncle is just fine.” Pike smiled, he was mostly telling the truth. After about ten minutes on the swings, the twins were bored and thought of something fun.

“Uncle, you wanna hide from those ladies? We know a good hiding spot! Daddy’s office, he has it but he never uses it. He usually does his papers when he’s with you at work.” Dean chimed, Bobby took his uncle’s hand and lead him into the house, telling the adults that they were going to show him their tablet. It was solid enough of an excuse to not garner any odd looks. Dean kept a look out while Bobby got Pike to the hallway.

“It’s the room at the end of the hall.” Bobby said and waved, tapping Dean on the shoulder so they could pop upstairs and play on their tablets and maybe raid the fridge later.

“Hey Bobby, did we take Auntie Izzy in there too?” Dean asked his brother once they were at the top of the stairs, Bobby thought for a moment and shrugged.

“I think so but she probably left by now. She usually goes home and we can find her online and play Pokemon Go with her.” Bobby answered not worried at all. His Auntie Izzy didn’t take to his mother’s meddling well but she was really fun with different games and she actually knew about SpongeBob and Paw Patrol so she was awesome in their book.

Agent Pike thought he was in the wrong room, but it was an office. There was just a woman laying across the couch in what looked to be a yellow off the shoulder dress, that had a slit in it. It exposed her very thick thighs and maybe a birthmark on the right one, she has white nail polish that matched her fingernails and toes. A smooth mole was on her right shoulder as well, her cleavage glistened with a thin layer of sweat as her chest rose and fell. It appeared she was asleep. White flip-flops were on the floor next to the couch and full fuchsia lips formed a small ‘o’ as she let out a coo. Her round honey tinted face appeared to be completely at peace. What was she dreaming about? Her hair was in an updo, coils in a cute poof above her head, because he was laying on her left side, her hair had teetered to the right a bit. The woman shifted a bit to the right and her cleavage peeked out a bit more from the top of her dress as did her thigh, Pike knew if she shifted again, he may see her panties, which would’t be bad for him. It was like a painting, one of the many he studied, the many artisans of the past had sculpted, painted and sketched full figured women through the eons. He wondered if he had any artistic bones in his body if her would be able to capture of majesty of this moment. The beautiful woman simply existing.

How long had he been standing here again?

Pike took a step forward to get out of the doorway, in an attempt to turn around and leave but knocked over a bookend and this a stack of books that was a the end of a shelf built into the wall. “Shit…” He whispered as he heard stirring behind him, movement. The agent turned and saw the vision of a woman sitting on the couch, rubbing her eyes, trying to get the sleep out. She was now sitting up, her hair still slightly to the right and both thighs on full display of her dress and further moved up. Pike cleared his throat, he needed to hear anything, it was so quiet. “Sorry about that.” He managed to speak softly. The woman nodded and chuckled. Her laugh was cute.

“It’s okay. I was likely asleep for too long. Are you a friend of Jack’s?” He heard her ask, she must know Jack and Molly well to refer to him by first name, or maybe she just didn’t work in law-enforcement, they always used last names. Pike nodded and turned to face her.

“I’m Pike, Marcus Pike.”

“You must work with him, not many people go with their last name first.” She laughed again, this time deeper though, her full lips moving as Marcus watched them, having a goofy smile of his face. “I’m Izzy or Isabella. I prefer Izzy though.” She stood up and pulled her dress from between her belly and thighs, she stepped forward for a handshake. Pike obliged and took her hand in his, it was soft but she had a firm grip. His calluses from using his gun slid against her palm and he sighed, feeling like he was exhaling all of the air in his lungs. She was up to his shoulder, not inducing her poof, looking down at her, he wondered if her lips as sweet as they looked. “Nice to meet you Marcus.” She smiled up at him, letting go of his hand and turning around to slip on her flip-flops.

“Nice to meet you too Isabella, er Izzy.” He corrected himself, he head her giggle as she checked her pockets. Women really do love dresses with pockets. “Are you avoiding the party as well?” Pike asked, he hoped so, then he would have something to talk about. After giving herself a quick pat down and it appeared as though she had everything, Izzy answered.

“Yeah, Molly insisted I come to get out of the house, but she just had a few guys she wanted me to meet. Wasn’t into it, so I asked the boys for a good hiding spot.” She put her hands on her hips, her arms jiggled with each movement. Pike couldn’t stop watching her. “Then I fell asleep after getting too comfortable.” She tossed a hand up with a shrug of her shoulder.

Marcus was racking is brain, should he ask for her number? Might be a bit too soon, coffee! Coffee is fine usually. Situation is a little awkward, but what wasn’t with the entire cookout debacle. “Izzy, would you want to get out of here and grab coffee?” He asked, cheesy? One hundred percent but why not? He wasn’t sure if he had ever studied anything or anyone in this much detail and he still wanted to know more.

Izzy’s eyebrows raised as she thought and agreed. “I could go for some coffee. You got Dunkin rewards? If not, I have some.” She pulled her phone out her pocket and grinned.

Pike matched her grin with his own, feeling playful, “Wherever you wanna go, I’m up for it.”

It had been four months since Isabella had heard words that changed her perception of men. ‘Wherever you wanna go, I’m up for it.” The accountant really had thought he was just giving her cheesy lines, which was sweet in a way. Marcus Pike was a man who followed through no matter if it was a promised phone call, a random lunch arriving at her office or a flirty FaceTime when he was at the office late. Time with him was well spent and always enjoyable. She never felt embarrassed by him and he seemed to find everything she did did cute which he told her often. By contrast, he was growing in a beard and mustache that looked sexy on him. It wasn’t too little and not too much, just right. She usually ended up touching it while they were out at dinner or matching movies at home as he touched her thighs.

Pike always made a point to have her climax at least once if not twice before entering her and chasing his own high. Izzy wondered what he might like but she felt a bit embarrassed about asking him, though anyone with any sense would instruct you to just ask. That was easy. Izzy never did things easy, it was not her way. Instead, she shopped around for a sheer midnight blue teddy with a matching crotchless thong. She had told Marcus to come by after work, shower and relax. He had been working a complex case with a few museums including the Smithsonian and how to coordinate the return of different pieces without pissing different countries off. She didn’t quite get the intricacies of it, but it sounded stressful. The office worker also had bought some handcuffs and a few candles that melt into oil and lube that she could massage him with or use to fuck him with. “This will be fun!” She exclaimed, hearing a knock downstairs followed by her phone ringing. He was here.

It wasn’t unusual for Pike to stay over at Izzy’s brownstone, it was much more comfortable that his studio apartment that was close to work, but cozy, as Izzy had put it. She had four bedrooms, one was an office, one was her master bedroom with a large walk-in shower that they had made very good use of, especially that built in bench seat. He relished in her pleasure, especially after she let it slip that she had only been able to climax using toys before. Marcus wouldn’t have that, plus hearing her scream his name made him want to grab her, twist her, make her more moist each time he heard it. He was greeted by his girlfriend answering the door in her black satin robe. He knew what the robe meant. “Hey babe. Sorry I’m so late.”

“You don’t need to apologize. I’m just glad you’re here Marcus.” Izzy kissed his lips softly, touching his cheek, her fingers trailing down to his jaw and poking his Adam’s apple. “You want to eat first or shower?” She asked, there was chicken Alfredo she could warm up for him.

“I’m gonna shower first, I feel stuffy from being in that office all day, you joining me?” The agent asked, dropping his bag after closing the door. One hand went to her hip, rubbing a circle to touch her thigh and ass while he kissed her shoulder. A soft sigh was heard from her lips so he then took a handful of her ass and squeezed. He heard a gasp and kissed her neck, clearly anticipating her joining him.

Though she was tempted, Izzy would stick to her plan. “No, no. You shower first and the pop into the bedroom. I thought of something for you.” She smiled, putting her ands on her hips before walking away and heading upstairs. Pike, stunned, picked up his bag and followed his love upstairs and quickly hopped in the shower. The last time she said she had something planned for him, she showed up at his office late saying she missed him and sucked his dick while he lied to his coworker and told him that he would lock up. Marcus fucked his girlfriend was in the bathroom. She enjoyed watching him struggle to keep a composed face, smirking up at him. It was then that Pike made sure that no one was in the office and his door was locked so he could bend her over the desk, slapped her ass before fingering her and plunging himself into her wetness as he spread her legs, her moans making him cry out her name. He left bruises on her thighs that night, ones that she told him not to say sorry for as she had enjoyed every moment. Isabella was also the same woman that held him and went with him to the hospital when his father had his stroke, thankfully he was able to recover mostly, but it wasn’t how he wanted to introduce her to his parents. He wanted to it be a nice family dinner. Not in a hospital room. But she was perfect throughout, making his mother nudge him and ask why he hadn’t brought her around yet.

While Pike was in the shower, Izzy was taking deep breaths, She went ahead and lit her candle and set condoms, handcuffs, but she didn’t have a blindfold. Hearing the water stop, she grabbed one of her scarfs and met him at the bathroom door, planting a kiss on him and wrapping her arms around his neck, standing on her tip-toes and put the scarf around his eyes. “Iz…what the hell?” Pike asked, chuckling. He never knew what to expect from this woman.

“I told you, a surprise. It starts now, so follow me.” She giggled and lead him toward the bed and sat him down, then pulled him close so his head rested on her breasts. She slipped off her robe and let it drop on the floor. Marcus’ arms wrapped around her back, he pressed his chest into her soft belly.

“Mmm…Should I be extremely worried or just quietly concerned?” He asked placing a small kiss between her ample breasts before nibbling on them.

Izzy licked her lips. “Neither, just listen to me and do what I tell you. I’m going to make sure to come first tonight Marcus. If you feel odd or uncomfortable about anything, just say…” Izzy paused to think of a word. “Rose.” She patted his head and took one of his hands and ran it upper her inner thigh. “You feel it Marcus? It’s been like this since you called me at your late lunch, hours Marcus…” She cooed, using one of her fingers to push his middle finger along her wet slit. Her legs widened a bit as Marcus slipped his finger in further, stroking her as he grew harder in his boxers.

“God damn woman….Tell me how you want me.” Marcus staggered, Izzy pushed him back on the bed and commanded him to scoot toward the head of the bed. He didn’t feel her get on the bed immediately, it felt like she was fiddling with something. “Izzy, what are you…” He was going to ask but she grabbed his wrists and cuffed them behind his head, kissing his lips again desperate for contact Pike lurched forward as she pulled back, panting. “Izzy, please….kiss me more.” A soft hand pushed on his chest and circled his nipple, rolling it between her fingers. Pike moaned loudly, struggling against the handcuffs, he needed to touch her, kiss her, caress her, grab her.

“Not yet. I want to watch you more like you watch me Marcus.” Izzy cooed, she released his nipple and slid off his boxers, the agent lifted his hips to make it easier. He bit down on his bottom lip as he whimpered. She hadn’t even touched his dick yet, would he last? Is this how he makes her feel? Anything like this? “Marcus, baby, you still with me? You remember the word right?” He nodded and she followed by asking if he wanted to use it, he shook he head.

“Please, tell me how to want me….Please…” Pike begged. Izzy loved the sight of the man who often made her hoarse for work the next day in a puddle go pleasure. His cock was wet with precum. She wanted to ride him them, but she would need his help for stability and she wanted to toy with him a bit more. Instead, she chose to remove her scarf and kiss his forehead, then straddled his lower torso so her ass would be rubbing against his hardness. “Fuck Iz….You haven’t told me to do anything yet.” He whined, which was true it was torture.

“Keep still.” Izzy commanded, bouncing her ass against his cock, smearing his fluid on her ass. She was kissing down his face to his Adam’s apple, biting it with her teeth before licking it. His hips buckled up in response and she bit his shoulder, “I said keep still.” Pike nodded and did his best, but he was failing the longer it went on, as she moved down, her hips did as well and her moist entrance was met with his hard cock, rubbing each other as she started to moan as well.

“Isabella please….” It was rare Marcus used her entire name, he was quite serious when he did. Izzy then reached for the candle and dripped the hot substance over his chest. Marcus yelped as his body shivered from both the heat and pleasure, Izzy started rubbing it into his skin, his chest, stomach and his arms, she used both hands to give special attention to his thighs, the dark hairs, tickling her fingers. Marcus did his best to remain still but his body was shaking, throbbing to release. “Please let me cum…” He asked out of sheer desperation.

Isabella sat back on the bed, admiring the sight of a spanning, sweating, lubed Marcus. She thought of taking a picture, but decided against it. She just soaked in the image. “Marcus, you think you can continue to stay still while I take care of you?” She asked, reaching for a towel that she had on a dresser, she wiped down his penis, his fingernails pressing into his palms. He nodded, but after she finished wiping, she flicked his shaft, causing him to make and audible grunt. “I need to hear an answer.” She stated, her finger tracing the veins along his shaft.

“Y-Yes, I can stay still. I’ll d-d-do my best. Please Izzy….honey…” He whimpered. Satisfied, Izzy ran her tongue from the base of his cock to her head, rolling her tongue around his head before sucking a little, not too much. Marcus did well in remaining still for the most part, but once she had his head between her lips, his hips buckled. He realized his mistake and quickly apologized, “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again….please your sweet lips, let me cum…” She reached down with a free hand and pinched the skin of his testicles, before taking his girth into her mouth bobbing her head up and down while she rolled his balls between her fingers. Marcus screamed trying to resist the urge to buck his hips with her mouth, he was trying and failing, but this time she didn’t stop. Izzy used her teeth to lightly graze the skin of his head before rolling her her tongue around it, without warning, Marcus shot ribbons into her mouth as she shrugged to swallow, but downed as much she could, she did end up choking a little. In-between his breathy heaves, Marcus asked if she was ok and if she could uncuff him, he needed to know if she was okay. As Izzy took deep breaths she handed him the key, he un-cuffed himself and took her in his arms, rubbing her back. Her coughing calmed as he cradled her, kissing her forehead.

She looked up at him, her mouth with traces of him on it, “Did you enjoy yourself Marcus?” She asked, he was dumbfounded. What made her think he didn’t? His kissed her lips softly before grabbing a tissue to wipe them and himself off.

“You always surprise the hell out of me Isabella. I fucking loved it. How’d you think of that?” He asked genuinely wondering. She had never mentioned anything like this before.

“I tried to think of what you might do. You aways seem to watch me and be studying me each time Marcus, plus I thought the candle would be a nice touch.” She giggled, nuzzling into his chest. Marcus pulled her on top of him so her legs were spread, She yelped as her bit at the top of her teddy ripping it, Izzy grabbed it and help it to herself though it only covered one of her breasts. “M-Marcus!” His mouth enveloped one of her nipples as he sucked and tugged on it, he reached up and took the torn teddy from her, the grip she had on it loosened considerably. His other hand trailed down her belly which he loved to pat, she swatted his hand away and to strode further down until reaching her slick lips, running a finger over each of them as he parted them. “W-Wait… you’re not supposed to move…” She stated weakly. He was no longer cuffed and non-compliant to her demands. Pike pushed her on her back just as she had done with him, however he took hold of her ankles and held her legs up, closing her thighs around his penis which was half erect. He was the one teasing her now, running his dick back and forth against her entrance knowing he wouldn’t enter her. “Fuck…Marcus…” She cried, grabbing onto the sheets of the bed. After a few more pumps he opened her legs and pulled back, the cool air hitting her wet lips and causing her to moan. He positioned her knees on his shoulders, she knew what came next, her body tensed, but Pike just blew a kiss toward her folds, watching her, watch him as he smiled. “What are you doing down there?!” Izzy yelled indignant. How dare he just sit there? He was in position.

Marcus was loving seeing her mad, it was perfect. He was being a bit petty for what just happened, but she also did choke on his cum, eh, it was fair. His face lurched forward and kissed her thigh before using his teeth to bite her, then lick it again. He would make sure she thought about him again while she was typing at her desk in a meeting, just like he did when she left scratches on his back. What he wouldn’t do to her to make her think of him when they were apart. His lips gently pecked her clit as he felt her knees buckle, then flicked it with his tongue, he could make her climax from just her clit, but he decided to start twirling his fingers, slipped into her cunt and turn them, not pump them. Izzy cried out his name and he smiled and a dark laugh left his lips as tongue flicked again on her clit, her hips were moving where his fingers weren’t so he pulled them back out and took a hand from her knee and smacked her ass. “Not yet, you have to stay still.” He mocked her mischievously and inserted one finger. Izzy growled, wanting more, but gave in and remained still and he slowly pumped her and forming an ‘o’ with his lips around her clit, she really did try hard not to move, but she always seem to be moving, even when she was still. It was one of the many things Marcus loved about her. He removed his finger again and replaced it with his tongue, flicking around her walls as they closed around him, his nose rubbing her clit as his eyes met hers.

“Shit, I’m almost there….Marcus!” Izzy yelled, but Marcus pulled away from her, licking his lips, she looked up at him and he leaned over her, moving up his body. “You…you…damn it…” She seethed, once was bad enough, but twice?! Izzy pinched his cheeks as he laughed, she only saw one of his hands though. Marcus used the other one to position himself at her moist sex, his tip already in, she felt him spreading her ever so much, but he stopped again. “Marcus please, let me move or fuck me…” She asked grabbing his shoulders and pulling him closer to her, he slid into her and filed her, stinging slightly as he normally preps her more. She leaned into his ear, “I didn’t move my hips this time.” The office manager felt like she had a win, he had edged her a bit too much she thought. Marcus just grinned and kissed her jaw, pulling his hips back so he was halfway out.

He grabbed one of her knees to spread her even more. “No you didn’t but I’ll still fuck you any anyway Izzy.” He smiled before plunging deep into her at an angle, hitting the very back of her canal, he felt her shudder and scream his name as she came, but he leaned down, sucked on her neck as he kept pulling in and out of her at a steady pace, she wanted him to go faster, but he was dragging it out, he was going to torture her. He even slowed down when he was withdrawing from her fully and plunging deep into her again, grabbing her hips this time. Her loud moans spured him on, the louder she became the harder he fucked her until his felt his cock start to swell again. Izzy wrapped her legs around him and Marcus panicked for a minute knowing that he had been a bit too eager and didn’t put a condom on.

“It’s fine, I’m on my pills pour into me Agent Pike.” She moaned, feeling herself nearly ready to come again. Marcus turned her on her back again and hungrily kissed her lips. Slapping his thighs with hers, he grabbed one of her breasts and rolled her nipple.

“You call me Marcus, Izzy….Fuck you’re so tight.” Marcus groaned. Spreading his thick seed into her, Izzy cried from he heat as her walls sucked his cum out of him, they arched into each other, their bodies sticky and wet from each other. Marcus kissed from Izzy’s forehead down to her shoulder and that mole he had seen when he first saw her sleeping in that office. He went to move, but she held onto him.

“Marcus, don’t move yet, just stay. Please.” Izzy said quietly into his shoulder, not looking up at him. Marcus brushed some of her hair off out her face and nodded pecking her lips. Eventually, the pair went to the bathroom and freshened up and changed the sheets before getting into bed naked. “Normally I only change the sheets before you come not after.” Izzy remarked, she used humor for when she was a bit uncomfortable. Pike wrapped his arms around her as they got in bed, she turned to face him. She held his hand after giving his ass a little squeeze. Marcus laughed.

“You never did tell me how you wanted me other than to stay still Iz.” Marcus asked, teasing her a little. Izzy faked a pout and lifted his hand to kiss it.

“I want you just like this, here with me.” Marcus kissed her lips as she laid her head on his chest, his hand rubbed her back, she drifted off to sleep.

“I don’t wanna be anywhere else.” Agent Pike slipped into a deep slumber, never forgetting the warmth on his chest.

#fanfiction #fanfic #pedro pascal #marcus pike #pedro pascal characters #marcus pike x reader #smut #sweet #plus size reader x pedro pascal character

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positivelybeastly · 4 months

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I'm curious as to how much flack Percy gets in regards to his x-force and wolverine run.

This cap doesn't have anything to do with anything, I just find it funny.

So, in regards to Percy's writing of X-Force and Wolverine, I'm going mostly based off of Reddit and Tumblr for these general impressions, because these are the social networks I spend the most time on - minus Twitter, but Twitter is frankly always a cesspool, and people don't actually talk that much about X-Force or Wolverine on there, they talk primarily about X-Ladies.

Reddit actually just wrapped up a poll asking people to rank their least favourite Krakoa era books, and the results were. Interesting.

So, Immortal X-Men was voted the best, with Hellions and X-Men Red trailing in second and third place - well deserved, frankly, those are all really quite excellent books. But we're not here to talk about excellent books, we're here to talk about Ben Percy!

Both of Ben Percy's comics were ranked as being in the bottom third of all Krakoa era comics (not including mini series). That's. Not great, honestly. That's usually what you'd call an indicator of a not well loved comic book.

Now, that's not to say that these runs don't have their appreciators - for one thing, they are objectively drawn pretty much consistently gorgeously. For all the flack I personally give Percy, he is competent at creating interesting body horror situations. There's a firm fanbase that's quite invested in Omega Red's redemption arc.

But I don't think there are many people who actually love these comics.

For one thing, the pacing is glacial. They are the single longest running ongoings of the Krakoan era, bar none, both of them looking to hit #50 in an era where other series are getting cancelled or cut short at #10 or #18 - and they have only just started to wrap up their major plot points. Beast was established to be pure evil back in issue #9, and it took until Wolverine #35 for him to be acted upon in a meaningful manner. Colossus was established to be under mind control years ago, also, and that has only JUST NOW been resolved.

A common response to this criticism was that Ben Percy is a novelist, and therefore used to writing his stories in a certain format - to which I say, cool, but you're writing for comic books, motherfucker. Adapt your style. I don't turn up to a watercolour painting class with a can of spray paint.

Another point people like to bring up is that Percy got 'screwed' by the higher ups extending the Krakoan story arc due to Hickman leaving and the other X-writers deciding to stick around in this stage of the story for longer. The theory goes that he has a set end point, and he's had to stretch the story out to make it work.

To which I say, if he's had even more time than he was meant to have, why do we know less psychologically about Beast now than we did at the beginning of the series? Why are Sage and Omega Red and Domino all begging for table scraps of story? What the fuck was even the point of the Kraven arc? A good writer who is interested in their characters and what they can say about them relishes more time to have them talk, not less, especially if you're getting paid to write it.

How in the goddamn hell did we have a company wide crossover event featuring a godlike being that forced characters to be judged for their actions, motivations and philosophies, and we didn't hear a single thing about Beast or Omega Red?

You could also just? End the story? Would the world really be that much of a poorer place without the adamantium surfboard and the evil space Nazi prison that literally mattered so little that Beast got arrested for it, then turned up again next issue like nothing had happened?

Which leads me to my next point - Beast's descent into villainy, whether or not you think it makes sense with how the character has been treated this last decade, does not make a fucking lick of sense. Everyone on the goddamn island of Krakoa is a fucking moron because X-Force is happening and no-one is watching what obviously evil Bond villain Beast is doing.

Jean Grey is staring Beast in the face, telling him that she believes that she thinks there's still good in him, while he's mentally thinking about what dead animal carcass to throw to Wolverine to break his mind and spirit. SHE IS A FUCKING TELEPATH.

MAKE IT MAKE SENSE.

Nightcrawler says Beast is utterly unethical and he doesn't trust him. Won't talk to him, though. Or check in on him. Or act against him. Beast was running an evil space Nazi prison in orbit, got caught, got taken away in handcuffs, and just. Walks. Away. Scot free.

From the Quiet Council.

How. The FUCK. Did that meeting go?

I don't know, but we'll never see it!

And every time you bring these things up, even the X-Force defenders just kinda have to shrug their shoulders and go, look, dude, I'm just here for the rad art and to watch how far Beast is gonna go this issue. Every other run during this era makes a grand effort to be connected, for Krakoa to feel like a breathing, living island . . . except for X-Force and Wolverine. They all just kinda. Exist in their own little universe.

It's called the Percyverse, incidentally. Legitimately. There's a full on term for it, this effect is so well documented and has been an issue for so long.

So, on Reddit at least, there's a pretty common derision for these runs. Some defenders, but no-one is ever gonna say that they're their favourites of the era. Most people are just kinda like, ehh, it's fun pulp, don't think too hard about it.

On Tumblr . . . yeah, this is something I actually have some personal experience with. You see a lot of X-Force panels posted from major comic book blogs because they catch attention and get a lot of notes, especially if it's a 'Beast does something evil' panel because you inevitably get a flood of people in the comments going HEY WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS, but you wanna know what I pretty much never see?

Fan art.

Idk, maybe I'm looking in the wrong place for it, but there's no fanart, for X-Force. I've seen exactly one piece of fan art for war criminal Beast. Exactly one. I've seen more explicit porn depicting the PS5 and Nintendo Switch fucking in weird robot form than I have fanart of X-Force. Fanfics, also, are very thin on the ground - I've seen maybe five, six, maybe seven?

I actually have one of the higher rated (in terms of views and kudos) X-Force related fanfics on AO3 by virtue of the Irredeemable Beast following on from that plotline, and even then, most of my comments are from people saying, oh hey, it's nice to see Beast back to his proper characterisation again (which is really nice to see, I love that!). I've had one or two people say that they think Beast is still evil, in the context of my story, but . . . honestly, that's an audience I want to cultivate and challenge, so I don't mind that. But still.

That's. Not a lot of fan engagement.

Hell, to go back to the Reddit point - there was a thread a month or two back asking what everyone's favourite X-Force incarnation was, and most people picked Uncanny X-Force (Remender's) or the original 90s run. A few people picked the Utopia era run.

Pretty much no-one I saw picked the Krakoan era book. And I was checking. I was craving that validation. And oh boy I got validated.

There's just. Not a lot going on in these books that's going to foster a dying love in a fan for them, honestly. There's not a lot of in depth characterisation, there's no grander point to the story other than 'CIA bad (but if it were run by these good guy field operatives who understand the necessary evils rather than the stupid bureaucrats, it would be better'). It's just. A pulpy comic book with a lot of violence and a one-note villain.

Who's going to go to bat for that?

In terms of more official flack, well, it's bad form to bad mouth your co-workers, so you're not gonna see a lot of people directly telling Ben Percy he sucks, BUT.

You've seen these panels before, right?

. . . Guys, is this a joke?

And I don't mean, is this a badly produced panel that makes no sense, I don't mean, is this an insult to comic books, I don't mean, are you serious.

I . . . seriously kinda think that this panel is a joke.

Poking fun at X-Force.

Because X-Force Beast is the kind of boring psychopath who can only convey his argument through a PowerPoint. Like, that's a fucking meme. That's straight up a meme. That's the equivalent of, in this essay I will --

Now, this one is also pretty funny, but also . . .

If you were a comic book writer, and you were in charge of a comic book that was getting some fairly intense criticism about the fact that a 60 year old legacy character is being written as the worst villain this side of Charles Manson, and LITERALLY EVERYONE on the internet is screaming that this HAS to be Dark Beast because it literally just doesn't make sense . . . what would you ask editorial to do?

Would you, perhaps, ask that Dark Beast be shown on panel in a different writer's book, acknowledging Beast's evil? That would give you some legitimacy, wouldn't it? Although, that's - a pretty desperate move, isn't it . . .

Especially considering the writer of that book (Kieron Gillen) fucking loves writing Beast. Like, legitimately loves him. You can tell.

This is not dialogue you give to a character you dislike. This is dialogue you relish getting to write because it's fucking fun. This is you getting free licence to get as esoteric and as wild with your dialogue as you want because you're getting to write Beast today.

Beast is fun to write. The writers of the 90s animated show literally said he was their favourite character to give dialogue to because he's so goofy and weird and intellectual.

Not convinced?

This is the same writer, Kieron Gillen, from years and years later (S.W.OR.D was 2009, this book is from 2015).

This is why I think Kieron Gillen was digging at Percy there. Because he clearly loves this character, clearly really is invested in Beast and Abigail's relationship - they were BROKEN UP in normal comics by this point, and yet he went OUT OF HIS WAY to do this. To express a tenderness of feeling and a love and an affection for these characters that scans as genuine.

Hell, look at this.

Is . . . Gillen poking fun at the fact that this fairly important relationship was ended on a whim eight years ago and no-one knows why? Because that's kinda what this reads as to me?

When I met Kieron Gillen at a comics convention a few years ago, I got him to sign my copy of S.W.OR.D. He said, and I quote, that he was fairly certain he'd signed every copy of it ever made. We both kinda laughed, because yeah, that story sold like shit, but also . . . everyone who read it got it signed, huh? And you remember this little 5 issue mini-series that got cancelled well enough to make a joke about it not selling well, with a distinct vibe of, everyone who actually read it loved it, sigh.

Interesting.

It's also worth noting that Jed McKay, currently writing the Avengers, has said that he wished he could have Beast on the roster, but he couldn't. He went out of his way to say that in an official interview.

Interesting.

It's ALSO worth noting that both Grant Morrison and Jonathan Hickman, when asked about Beast at an anniversary livestream, said they didn't see Hank as the kind of character who should be a villain, but merely someone who got into bad situations and reacted like a human to it. Which is. Not something you'd say about X-Force Beast, is it.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

#vinial453 #outofmuffins

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