#‘dog eat dog world’ is their mentality fr. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

redvexillum · 1 month ago

Text

@crackrodent...YOU. AGAIN? But in all seriousness, thanks for challenging me. I've never written about an irredeemable main character before...or torture.

TAGS/WARNINGS: m/m, non-con, blackmail, drug use, tom is a psychopath/pervert but this is also hell so like not surprising, s☆unding, mutilati☆n, an☆l penetration, bottom!val, fr☆ttage, pins in c☆ck, blood as lube, b☆ndage, s☆x toy, no comfort, ☆verstimulation, begging, crying, torment, dead dove: do not eat, psychological, val had a really bad time, writer took a huge liberty of her head canon on tom trench, sadist!tom, s☆xual torture, unhinged!tom, dark, crack treated seriously, all the characters in this story are in hell because they are incredibly awful and despicable mofos, not kinktober or flufftober just horror

🙏 please mind your mental health before you read 🙏

Worthless. Trash. Nobody.

Tom Trench had heard it all, every demeaning spiteful word carved into his soul like jagged shards of glass. Back when he was alive, those words clung to him, branding him as an outsider, a weirdo – a man too peculiar for the world.

His tastes, his quirks, all things he embraced were sneered at, laughed off, cast aside. He didn’t belong. He was an outsider lurking at the edges of every group, too strange to fit in, too proud to bend. But even then, buried under layers of bitterness and rejection, he had a dream.

A dream to stand before the world, larger than life, bathed in the spotlight. His magnificent hair slicked back in perfection; his smile wide as fans would bow to his feet.

Fame. Riches. Accolades.

He had pictured it all, the roar of approval swelling in his ears as eyes would be all on him – he would be a star.

The world would see him as a somebody.

But life, cruel and fickle, dealt him a dog’s death.

Scorned. Forgotten. Alone.

His dreamed withered, trampled by those who never saw him for anything more than the peculiar man in the corner.

He died as nothing.

And it burned.

Yet here, in Hell, things were different. Down here, he mattered. Hell didn’t care about quirks or strangeness; Hell embraced it. And Tom, with his gas mask forever fused to his face like a grotesque second skin, had found something he’d never had before: recognition.

Tom Trench.

The name burned brighter than the flames licking the underworld. He was co-host of 666 News, one of the most-watched shows in Hell. Here, they knew him. He had status. All eyes were on him, on Tom Trench.

A somebody. He was a somebody.

At least, that was what he told himself every time the camera crew or makeup artist glanced at him with blank indifference, their eyes flickering over him as if he were nothing more than an inconvenience.

“Uhm, sir,” his assistant’s hesitant voice broke through his thoughts, her hands fidgeting nervously at her sides. “We’re ready for you.”

Tom’s jaws clenched. That damn look again, the one that screamed she forgot my name.

Again.

“It’s Tom,” he bit out, his voice a sharp, jagged edge.

Her eyes widened, the fake forced smile twitching on her lips. “Right, of course, Tom.” She repeated it like she had to convince herself, taking a shaky step back. “You’re ready for the stage.”

Her gaze slid past him almost immediately, gravitating toward his co-host, that bitch, Katie Killjoy. It was always the same – her and everyone else – eyes trailing longingly toward Killjoy, as if Tom were just a mere shadow in her spotlight. He could see it in the way his assistant’s lips curled into something softer when she looked at Killjoy, how her body relaxed as if being near her was a privilege.

Tom forced his fury down, letting it simmer beneath the surface. Killjoy was a co-host, just like Tom. That was all.Nothing more. Yet, as the two of them sat side by side in front of the camera, the venomous reality slapped him across the face with every word that left her smug lips.

She humiliated him. She did it effortlessly, tossing insults like they were second nature. A scalding cup of coffee spilled “accidentally” onto his lap, her sharp laughter ringing out as he flinched from the heat. Then came the string expletives, words flung at him like daggers in front of millions. The denizens of Hell loved it. They adore her viciousness, drank in her venom as if it were sweet wine.

Her ratings soared.

And Tom? He sat there, swallowing the bitter, sour taste of bile that surfaced from his rage, that threatened to choke him as they all laughed at him, never with him. Even in Hell, where he had clawed his way into a position of recognition, he was still just a stepping stone for someone like Killjoy. She was the woman everyone adored, while he remained the pathetic afterthought.

The air was thick with whispers, swirling around the room like vultures circling a dying beast. They weren’t subtle – the gossip, the sidelong glances, the smiles aimed at her. The world of entertainment was all about her, the extravagant life she paraded in front of Hell’s masses, basking in the endless attention. And every second, his spotlight dimmed just a little more.

Tom could feel it slipping away, like sand through his clenched fingers. His hand tightened into a fist, knuckles white as he fought to keep control, then slowly loosened. He had to breathe. But with every breath, memories came rushing back.

Horrible memories.

Scrubbing floors under the sneers of radio stars who barely acknowledged his existence. A janitor. A nobody. The disgusted glances, the whispers behind his back, the way they treated him like he was nothing. He had clawed his way up from that pit of humiliation, only to find himself teetering on the edge once more.

But with the anger came something else. Something dark. Something...delicious. The perverse satisfaction that had always come when he exacted his revenge. Oh, how sweet it was to see the terror in their eyes before their blood painted the walls, before their lives were extinguished so easily as they had tried to snuff out his.

The thought made him giddy, almost light-headed. That bitch, Killjoy...How he longed to wrap his hands around her throat, feel the delicate bones snap beneath his fingers, rip her trachea out and leave her lifeless body dangling in front of his house – strung up by her cunt.

It was only a fantasy. For now.

“...and back to you, Tom,” came that sickenly sweet voice, dripping with condescension. Katie Killjoy flashed her blood-red smile, her ghastly pale face stretching unnaturally, her long neck bent at an angle that made her look more like a grotesque puppet than a woman.

Tom blinked, snapping out of his dark thoughts. He cleared his throat, fumbling to gather the papers in front of him. His voice was just about to break the silence when–

The world tilted. His body hit the floor hard.

Killjoy had shoved him.

Laughter erupted. Hers, shrill and wicked, echoed by the snickers of the camera crew. His ass was planted on the cold studio floor, his notes scattered like the worthless thoughts they were, fluttering around him like discarded dreams.

Words that had meant something – his words – now crushed underfoot, ground into the dirt like they weren’t even worth reading aloud.

He sat there, frozen, the uselessness of it all swallowing him whole. Every time she shoved him, every time she spat venom in his direction, each moment she treated him like a worthless bug, something deep inside of him broke apart just a little more.

Tom had always considered himself patient. He had always prided himself on being able to bide his time, to let the insults roll off his back, knowing that, when the time came, he would take care of his problems in...unorthodox ways. But now, the anger simmering just beneath the surface was growing hotter, more volatile, like magma threatening to erupt from the depths of his soul. Until, one day...

One day...

He...

He laughed.

The sound was hollow, echoing off the cracked walls of his dingy one-room apartment. The flickering lights barely illuminated the Hell critters scuttling through the walls, the electricity only working half the time – if that.

He sat on the edge of his sagging bed, a wild itch spreading across his face. That damn gas mask. The curse that had fused it to his skin, forever making him a monster and incapable of showing a wide range of emotions. His fingers dug beneath the edges, nails scraping at his own flesh, tearing at the seams, trying to rip it off. But no matter how hard he clawed, it wouldn’t budge.

The mask was a reminder. It was a part of him now, just like the hatred that grew and festered inside. No matter how much he wanted to tear it away; to rip off the facade and scream at the world, it clung to him. Just like the memories.

The mask was a reminder – a cruel, suffocating reminder of his own stupidity. His fatal mistake. He hadn’t set the gas mask properly that night, hadn’t secured the mask tight enough before he drugged his victims – no – enemies. In his eagerness to play with them, he got careless. He remembered the sudden burn in his lungs, the bitter, acrid fumes filling his throat, choking him on his own vomit. The last thing he felt before death claimed him was the searing shame of his own failure.

And now, that same mask – the mask that failed to protect him in life – was fused to his flesh in death. A permanent scar, a mockery from Hell itself. A joke, courtesy of the damn Lord, who seemed to take twisted pleasure in reminding Tom of his fall from grace. The mask clung to his skin, melded into his very being, a symbol of his downfall.

It was as if Hell itself were looking down on him, laughing at him, calling him...

Worthless.

Trash.

Nobody.

Just like her. Just like Killjoy.

His hands trembled, raw and bloodied from his earlier attempts to rip the mask off, to tear away the part of himself that was forever tainted by his failure. Shreds of skin hung loosely from his face, sticky with blood that dripped steadily onto his pants. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered.

As he bowed his head low, his eyes caught sight of the pristine white card – the invitation to a party tonight, an exclusive event for Hell’s celebrities to mingle and gloat.

They hadn’t even bothered to invite him.

He had stolen the invitation, filched it from Killjoy’s purse when she wasn’t looking. He’d rifled through her things countless times, savouring the small victories of taking what was hers. Knowing your enemy was critical, after all.

His gaze drifted toward the small shrine in the corner of his apartment – a twisted, obsessive display of trinkets he had stolen from her like a scavenging magpie. A half-used tube of lipstick, condom wrappers, a mini bullet vibrator, a cheap pen. All arranged neatly, each item a piece of her that he kept close. A constant reminder of the enemy.

But even as he looked at the shrine, something darker stirred within him. His cock twitched at the memory of the hot-pink vibrator, the way he had rubbed it against himself, imagining it was tainted with her disgusting touch. The fantasy that she hadn’t cleaned it properly before discarding it. He had gotten hard thinking about it, the idea of licking it clean crossing his mind more than once. But he couldn’t. The mask wouldn’t allow it. The thin slits were just wide enough for a straw, nothing more.

Blood oozed down his hands as he stood, but the pain was distant, drowned out by the fury simmering inside him. His eyes lingered on the stolen items as dark glee radiated within him. She would be at the party tonight. She never missed a chance to flaunt herself, to show off to the world how perfect she was. This would be his chance – the perfect opportunity to ruin her in every possible way.

His rage bubbled up, hotter and hotter, until it consumed every thought, every fibre of his being. The anger had always been there, simmering just below the surface, but now it boiled over. All he could think about, all he could imagine, was fucking her lifeless throat in the ultimate act of triumph. The way he had done to others in the past. The thought made his cock throb, the desire so strong it nearly consumed him.

But in Hell, killing wasn’t as easy as it had been in life. Here, death was temporary, a mere inconvenience. Killing her would be too easy, too quick. No, what he wanted – what he needed – was to humiliate her. To break her, to strip away her power, piece by piece, until she was nothing more than a quivering, broken shell below him.

After all, she always called him a...what was it again?

Ah, yes, a limp-dick jackass.

A small chuckle escaped him. It was only polite to prove her wrong, wasn’t it? His hand drifted down to the front of his pants, clutching the throbbing erection straining against the fabric. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, desire thrumming through him. He hadn’t fucked anyone since coming to Hell – hadn't indulged in his darker urges because it required a specific set of circumstances to...perform.

But tonight?

Tonight, would be different.

The thought of forcing her to choke on his cock, to make her gag and squirm as he held her down, made his blood pound with sick anticipation. He could already picture her tear-streaked face, the horror in her eyes. Fuck. He was going to make Killjoy his bitch tonight.

Hell was a beautiful place. There were substances here, powerful enough to bend even the strongest wills, to strip away control and leave a person at the mercy of their darkest desires. Tom had nearly drained his entire bank account to get his hands on a potent love potion, an almost magical concoction that would ensure his plans went off without a hitch. He patted the vial in his pocket, his fingers brushing against the mini camcorder tucked safely in the other

He would record everything. His glory, his victory.

Tonight, Katie Killjoy would regret ever crossing him.

He had realized belatedly that tonight's party was a costume party. He quickly went to the bargain store and purchased a costume that was the cheapest in stock.

The costume was a joke, a cheap, pathetic imitation of the infamous Angel Dust – a popular porn star known for his exaggerated style and body. Tom stood in front of his cracked mirror, smearing pink glitter around his eyes to imitate the porn star’s extra set of eyes.

His fingers clumsily mussed his hair forward to mimic Angel’s wild hairstyle, and he stuffed clumps of fluff into the front of his shirt, attempting to simulate the porn star’s chest fluff.

But it was a miserable failure. The glitter clung to his sweat-slicked skin, making his gas mask look even more ugly, and the fluff drooped awkwardly, highlighting his lack of finesse. He looked nothing like Angel Dust, not even a distant shadow. He looked like one of the coked-up sinners that haunted Hell’s back alleys - dirty, unhinged, and desperate.

It didn’t matter. The costume wasn’t for mingling or fitting in. He had a purpose tonight, a goal far glorious than simply attending a party for clout.

The moment he stepped into the club, the assault on his senses was immediate. The air was thick with the stench of alcohol, cloying perfume, and the unmistakable musk of sex. Strobe lights flickered wildly, casting shifting shadows across the room, while the pounding music reverberated through the building, vibrating in his chest like a second heartbeat.

Bodies writhed together in an unholy dance – mass orgies on the dance floor, groups of sinners tangled in a mess of limbs and moans. Some engaged in conversation, but the real action was the chaotic display of hedonistic desires playing right in front of him.

Tom had never belonged to this world. Never been invited to these kinds of exclusive gatherings. But tonight was different. He had to be here, even if he stole the invitation. He belonged among the rich and powerful, didn’t he? He wasn’t just anyone; he was Tom Trench, co-host of 666 News, one of the most-watched channels in Hell’s entire pentagram.

He mattered.

Or at least, that’s what he told himself as he stepped deeper into the fray, heart pounding in time with the music, head swimming with thoughts of what he was about to do.

“Like fuck, I can’t believe I lost that fucking invitation!” Killjoy’s shrill voice cut through the din like a knife, and Tom’s heart nearly leapt out of his chest. He froze, scanning the crowd, his pulse racing as he spotted her near the bar, surrounded by a gaggle of sycophants in miniskirts and plunging tops, all hanging on her every word. She was in her element, laughing cruelly, her lips smeared with that garish red lipstick she always wore.

Without thinking, Tom ducked behind a couple in the midst of dry humping, their bodies pressed together, tongues tangled in an intense display of public lust. The sinner’s underwear was yanked down, their exposed cunt rubbing shamelessly against their partner’s thigh. It was disgusting, but it provided just enough cover for Tom to hide, pulling out his phone to pretend he was preoccupied. It was an old, outdated piece of junk – still paying it off, of course – but it gave him an excuse to eavesdrop without looking suspicious.

“Like, the fucking bitch at the door gave me such a hard time just because I didn’t have my invitation on me! But you know what I told her?” Killjoy’s voice dripped with sadistic glee, her laugh high and piercing as her entourage leaned in. “I told her if she didn’t get me in, I’d get my buddies to fuck her! Hahaha!” She snorted as she placed her fingers against her chest. “And trust me, that bitch nearly killed herself after the last time they did!”

The surrounding women cackled, their laughter cruel and shrill, tears of mirth streaming down their perfectly made-up faces. They clung to her every word, validating her, admiring her. Tom’s stomach churned with a mix of bitter envy and anger.

He knew exactly who she was talking about – the girl at the door was her assistant. The poor girl had always looked frazzled, terrified, constantly on edge around Killjoy. He’d heard about the incident when the assistant accidentally spilled a latte on Killjoy’s suit. It had been hilarious at the time, watching Killjoy’s face turn an unnatural shade of red, her eyes blazing with fury.

But he hadn’t known the full story. He hadn’t known just how far Killjoy’s cruelty had gone, punishing her assistant in ways too vile to even imagine. Her assistant wasn’t an animal, but Killjoy was. The standards were held different for bitches like her.

A sense of delight buzzed in his veins. Killjoy, always so perfect, always so untouchable, reduced to tears. Black mascara running down her pale cheeks as her carefully constructed mask of control shattered.

The weight of the drug in his pocket felt heavier with each passing moment. His fingers twitched, itching to take action, to make his fantasy a reality. He could already see it – the way she’d crumble, the way her pristine image would be ripped apart in front of everyone. He’d tear that tight little nurse outfit right off her, make her scream, make her sob, until she was nothing but a broken shell of herself. His cock stirred again at the thought, the heat of his anger blending with a delirious sense of arousal.

Tonight, he’d make her remember his name.

He’d make her fear it.

As Tom surveyed the area, he noticed the almost empty drink in her hand, and he could almost see the perfect opportunity forming in his mind. The bar was just steps away from her – so easy, so simple. He could order her a drink, instruct the bartender to hand it over, and watch as his plan unfolded. He could already imagine her glossy lips parting, taking a sip, and then–

His thoughts were shattered by a sudden invasive pressure – fingers pressed right up against his asshole. Tom jolted, spinning around in shock, his body stiffening as he came face-to-face with someone far more dangerous than he’d anticipated.

Valentino.

The moth demon towered over him, dressed in his usual flamboyant attire, pink smoke curling lazily from his pipe held between his lips. The scent of his hung heavy in the air, wrapping around them, the haze seeming to draw Tom deeper into his humiliation.

“Angel!” Valentino’s voice slithered through the noise, loud enough to grab the attention of the surrounding sinners. His hand still lingered near Tom’s rear, possessive, like he owned everything in his reach.

“It-it’s Tom, sir,” Tom stammered, the earlier confidence draining from him like the smoke from Valentino’s pipe. He felt small. Insignificant. The weight of Valentino’s presence crushed his resolve.

“What?” Valentino’s eyes narrowed, peering through his pink sunglasses as he bent lower, inspecting Tom’s face. A look of disgust flashed across his features. “Ugh, fuck, you’re an ugly thing, aren’t you?” He sneered, his lips curling before a soft gag escaped his throat. “Didn’t the invitation say sexy costumes?” Valentino turned to one of the curvaceous sinners by his side, her barely there bikini leaving little to the imagination. She gave a playful smile, batting her long lashes as she nodded.

Tom’s heart thundered in his chest, a chaotic mix of fear, awe, and admiration. Valentino – one of the Vees, one of the most powerful Overlords in Hell – was standing right before him. His earlier scheme to ruin Killjoy seemed to fade like smoke, replaced with a sharp, aching desire.

He wanted to be them.

The Vees were somebody.

They were the apex, the ones everyone else either feared or envied.

And Tom? Tom was just another face in the crowd. Just another nobody.

“I-uh-” he stammered, his mouth dry, eyes wide as another stunning beauty approached Valentino, draping herself over his other arm. Tom could barely think straight. His heart raced, not just from fear, but from longing. If he could impress Valentino, cozy up to him, maybe he could be more. Maybe he could become the sole host of 666 News, instead of living in Killjoy’s shadow. The Vees controlled every channel in the Pentagram; if anyone had the power to make him a somebody, it was them.

But Valentino wasn’t interested. Before Tom could finish his pitiful attempt at flattery, Valentino raised a hand, cutting him off with a look of pure indifferent. “Who are you?” Valentino asked, the question hanging in the air, icy and rhetorical. Tom’s mouth opened, but no sound came. He didn’t have a chance to answer before Valentino’s lips curled into a sneer, his voice dripping with contempt. “You’re some nobody.”

The words hit like a slap to the face. Valentino’s posture oozed arrogance, his hips jutting out in lazy dominance. “Run along now,” he drawled, waving Tom off like a bug he’d grown tired of swatting.

“You’re dismissed.”

The two girls at his sides giggled, their eyes dancing with malicious amusement. They didn’t see him as anything more than a joke, a small man playing dress-up, trying to fit into a world that didn’t want him. Their laughter stabbed at Tom’s pride, each giggle a reminder of his insignificance. His fists clenched, nails digging into his palms as he tried to steady his breathing, but it felt like his chest was collapsing in on itself.

His breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, everything warped. His vision blurred, and suddenly, he wasn’t in the club anymore. He wasn’t under the judgmental gaze of Valentino and his entourage. No, he was somewhere else – somewhere familiar yet distant, like a half-forgotten dream. A memory surged forward, unbidden, like a hidden shard of glass surfacing from the depth of murky water.

The memory, once a distant blur, came rushing back with brutal clarity, its edges sharper than a razor, slicing through his mind. Tom could see it – his brown, ratty, tattered shows, the leather peeling away like his last shred of dignity. Each step left bits of himself behind, dirt smeared across pristine floors that were never meant for the likes of him. His hands trembled, rubbing together compulsively, desperate, as if he could conjure up a miracle if just tried hard enough.

Back then, he had been a janitor at a radio station. His cousin, always grinning with false hope, had promised him that if he worked hard enough, kept his head down, and grinded, maybe – just maybe – they'd give him a shot at stardom. A chance to be somebody.

But that chance never came.

Instead, he was left cleaning up after the real stars, scrubbing their messes while they laughed in the spotlight. His heart raced, a bitter rhythm that beat against the weight of the world collapsing around him.

The Great Depression was in full swing – people starving, families dying in the streets. But Tom? No, Tom was going to be fine. He had been told to believe in the American dream. He had been told that hard work would pay off.

So, every day, despite the mocking laughter, despite the whispers behind his back, he pushed forward. He had banked everything – his life, his hope – on the promise that effort would make him rise above the filth of the working class.

But it was all a lie.

“You’re dismissed,” his cousin had said, not even sparing a single glance up from his newspaper.

Those two words echoed through his skull, twisting his stomach in knots. Those words were his ticket to eternal damnation, his invitation to the gutter. The world crumbled around him as they shattered the fragile dream he had clung to for so long.

Those two words broke him.

He had walked out into the street, the stench of death and rot filling the air. Those two words had stripped him of his humanity, left him hollow, a walking corpse, just another forgotten piece of garbage.

He had stood over his cousin’s broken body, blood bubbling from the man’s lips, his last words choking on the truth that had haunted Tom his entire life: you’ll always be a nobody. Useless. Trash.

Tom had once considered himself patient. A man who could endure. But now? As the anger from Killjoy’s mocking laughter seared into him, as Valentino’s cold dismissal stabbed through his chest, the final thread of sanity snapped.

Valentino was long gone, already surrounded by his entourage. However, Tom stood there, giggling – a high-pitched, manic sound that rattled though his skull, masked by the pounding bass of the music.

It was funny, wasn’t it? How life continued to fuck him, even in death. Every twist, every turn, the universe seemed to take pleasure in making him its joke. Always at the bottom, always overlooked, always discarded.

His fingers brushed against the drug in his pocket, the weight of it pressing against his side like a reminder of what he could still do. His eyes, once burning with rage at Killjoy, shifted now. Slowly, they turned toward the tall, lanky figure lounging on a couch as if he owned the entire damn club. Valentino, with his heart-shaped glasses and that broad, sickening grin. His tongue flicked out, licking at the women draped over him like accessories, his arrogance oozing out from every pore.

Valentino sat there like a king, surrounded by whores, drenched in the illusion of power. To him, everyone else was just a shadow, a worthless nobody.

Just like Tom.

It was disturbingly easy, how effortlessly Tom managed to slip the entire brew of the drug into Valentino’s drink. A drop or two was all it was supposed to take, but he didn’t care for caution. He dumped the whole flask, watching the light pink hue dissolve without a second thought. Maybe Valentino thought no one in Hell had the guts to spike his drink. Or maybe the Overlord was too arrogant to even consider the possibility.

When Tom approached with the glass, Valentino barely spared him a glance, eyes glazed over with disdain as he reached for the drink. He gulped it down in one, not bothering to acknowledge Tom’s existence. But soon, his expression changed. Slowly, his head began to sway, and the surrounding whores giggled nervously, their hands caressing his arms as if their touch could stabilize him.

Tom moved closer, stepping into the Overlord’s line of sight. Valentino’s eyes struggled to focus, a strange mix of clouding and desire clouding his features. “Angel!” he cried out, his voice slurring as his arms looped around Tom’s waist.

It was laughably easy to guide Valentino into one of the club’s private rooms, the kind reserved for hard-core BDSM plays. Tom locked the door behind them, a metallic click that echoed through the dim room. Chains and leather straps adorned the walls, while flickering flames cast ominous shadows across the cold stone floor, licking the walls with an eerie glow. It was the perfect setting for what Tom had in mind.

Valentino, completely unaware, had already begun undressing, his clothes falling in a careless heap on the floor. “Angel, baby,” he groaned, his voice heavy with lust and delirium. “I’ve been wanting to fuck your tight ass for weeks...how dare you make me wait, you ungrateful fucking whore.” His words slurred, muting the malicious tone. His body collapsed onto the bed with a graceless thud.

Tom’s stomach twisted with a dark, sick pleasure. He didn’t care about the sex of his victims, never had. The only thing that mattered was that they were helpless. Weak. Prone. His arousal surged as Valentino lay before him, drugged and limp, a pitiful sight. His breath quickened, his pants already tightening around the hardness that pressed painfully against the fabric.

Without a word, Tom moved to the restraints hanging on the walls, fingers brushing over the cold leather. He wanted to grin, to laugh, but the mask that had fused to his face, mocking hi for all eternity, prevented it.

No matter.

His actions spoke for him.

Stripping out of the gaudy Angel Dust costume, he began to tie Valentino’s arms together with practised ease. He bound them tightly to the hook above the bed, pulling just enough to leave the Overlord’s body slightly suspended. Valentino’s lilac-shaded cock twitched pathetically with each touch, though it hung limp, his mind lost in the overwhelming effects of the drug.

The apothecary had warned Tom – one drop was enough to drive a demon into mindless heat, to have them writhing in desperation. But a full vial? Tom’s pulse quickened, a thrill racing through him. He was going to find out.

Valentino’s pink drool dribbled slowly from his parted lips, his head hanging uselessly as his arms stretched above him. The once-powerful Overlord now reduced to a puppet, limp and helpless. Tom’s breath hitched, his hand flying to his own hardened cock, slick with pre-cum as he gripped it tightly.

Flashes of old memories flooded his mind – victims, squirming in panic, tied up in his gas-filled room. The smell of fear, the way their eyes widened when they saw him in his gas mask, breathing heavily as he watched them. The way they begged for mercy, their words cut off as the gas took over, silencing them just as they had silenced him when they mocked, dismissed, and belittled him.

Those were the glory days.

Short, fleeting, but glorious, nonetheless.

And now? Now, here he was again, a nobody with the power to make someone else feel the same helplessness he had endured for far too long. Valentino would suffer, not through fear but through humiliation. He would be just another victim in Tom’s long line of revenge.

“Augh,” Valentino moaned, his voice thick with lust and confusion as his cock slowly stiffened, pink drool spilling from his slack mouth, rolling down his chest in a glistening trail. His body, once the epitome of control and power, now hung limp, betrayed by the very pleasure coursing through him.

Tom set the camcorder up at the foot of the bed, his movements methodical, driven by the sick sense of satisfaction. This recording – this proof – would be his victory. Even if it didn’t serve a purpose beyond his own personal gratification, he knew that watching Valentino’s humiliation again and again would feed him, satiate his hunger, for a very long time.

Slowly, he stripped off his clothes, his cock hard and throbbing, standing proud as he climbed onto the bed. The feeling of control, of domination, filled him, and it was intoxicating.

It was magnificently glorious.

“So, who’s the powerless, weak nobody now?” Tom sneered, his voice low as he hovered above Valentino, his cock bobbing just in front of the Overlord’s face. The rush of power was exhilarating, a heady feeling that made him feel invincible.

But then, Valentino stirred, his body twitching before a sputter of laughter escaped his lips, deep and mocking. Tom’s confidence wavered as Valentino’s grating laugh pierced through his triumph, hitting the nerves like nails on a chalkboard.

“What the fuck is this?” Valentino squinted up at tom, a wide, sloppy grin spreading across his face. “Angel, when did your dick get so tiny?” His laughter grew louder, more malicious. “Unless...is that your pinky finger I’m seeing?” He leaned forward as if trying to get a closer look at Tom’s erect cock, eyes sparkling with cruel amusement.

Shame and embarrassment coursed through Tom as he stumbled backward, his breath catching in his throat. He glanced down at Valentino’s half-hard cock, massive even in its lips state, and a wave of humiliation crashed over him. Five times bigger, Tom thought, feeling the sting of comparison tear at his earlier bravado. His own erection faltered, the shame creeping in like poison, each pulse of Valentino’s laughter eroding at his fragile sense of ego and power.

Clenching his fists until his nails dug into his palms, Tom fought to steady himself. “Size isn’t everything,” he spat bitterly, but the words tasted hollow. Valentino groaned, his head lolling from side to side as more saliva dribbled from his lips, the effects of the drug thickening in his veins. His cock, now fully erect, throbbed, pre-cum leaking in thick ropes down his shaft.

“Fuck,” Valentino slurred, his voice barely coherent as his body twitched, trying to regain control. “What the fuck is going on?” His arms, bound above him, were the only thing keeping him from collapsing entirely, his strength drained by the overwhelming pleasure and the drug burning through him.

Tom’s gaze flicked toward the drawer by the bed. His fingers grazed over the various sex toys within. His eyes landed on a thin metal rod with a circular-shaped handle at the end, its surfaced pocked with rust and decay. He had seen it used in some of the darker porn he’d watched – sounding, they called it. A flutter of amusement pulsed within him as he pulled it out, running his thumb over the rough, ridged surface.

“Let’s just stop that little leak of yours, Val,” Tom muttered, his tone mockingly sweet as he returned to the bed. “I can call you that, right?” Valentino only groaned, lost in his delirium, and Tom chuckled darkly. The drug had Valentino completely at his mercy, his once-mighty form reduced to a quivering, incoherent mess.

Tom’s fingers trailed down the length of Valentino’s shaft, feeling the heat radiating from it, the way it pulsed under his touch. The second his skin made contact; Valentino screamed – an animalistic sound that bounced off the wall. His hips jerked upward, pre-cum splattering everywhere, coating Tom’s hand and chest in sticky droplets.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Valentino cursed, his voice breaking as his body writhed in overstimulation, muscles tensing and flexing uncontrollably. His thighs quivered, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. The sound of his whimpers – those small, pathetic cries – sent a shiver down Tom’s spine. He had never seen someone so powerful reduced to this, lost in a haze of pleasure so intense it bordered on agony.

With a sadistic thrill pumping in his veins, Tom gripped Valentino’s cock in one hand, holding it steady. Valentino hissed at the contact, his body arching as if trying to escape the sensation. Unexpectedly, Tom positioned Valentino’s cock, the gaping slit already covered with pre-cum.

And then, without hesitation, Tom drove the metal rod in, all at once.

The scream that tore from Valentino’s throat was primal, a raw howl that reverberated off the stone walls. His body convulsed violently, arms straining against the restraints as he thrashed in pain. Blood mixed with the clear fluid, dripping in thick rivulets from the slit of his cock, staining the sheet below them.

As Tom shoved the metal sounding deeper with brutal force, he disregarded the way Valentino’s cock strained and trembled under the intrusion. The tension, the sickening resistance of flesh yielding and ripping to cold steel, sent a thrill through Tom’s spine.

Valentino’s pure, pained cries echoed like music to his ears, and for the first time in ages, Tom felt a rush of arousal so fierce it made him light-headed. His body thrummed with sadistic excitement, the sound of his own hissing breaths the only counterpoint to Valentino’s sobbing gasps.

Tom’s hips jerked forward in short, uncontrolled strokes, his cock twitching as he focused solely on driving the sounding to its limit, down to the very hilt. His eyes roved over the sight with a ravenous hunger, his lips parting in a soft groan of pleasure as crimson droplets continued to well up from Valentino’s tip, the blood slowly trailing down the length of his shaft like delicate ribbons decorating a sacrificial altar. The contrast of the vivid red against the pale lilac skin was picturesque – it was art.

Panting heavily, he finally released the device, sitting back on his heels as he admired his handiwork. Valentino’s face was a portrait of agony – tears streaming freely down his flushed cheeks, mixing with the pink drool that spilled from his slack mouth. His hips jerked in weak, pathetic thrusts, as though his body still sought relief despite the pain, fucking the air with an almost automatic, broken rhythm.

“F-fuck...fuck...” Valentino’s voice cracked, a barely coherent string of words that failed to form any real protest. His expression was glazed, trapped somewhere between torment and lust, his mind a shattered mess.

The sight of the powerful Overlord reduced to this wreck of a man – a trembling, crying, pathetic mess at Tom's mercy – sent a dark wave of satisfaction within him. His cock, already aching, hardened even more, throbbed in time with his racing heart.

Without thinking, Tom’s hand flew to his shaft, gripping it tight as he began to stroke with wild desperation. His moans mixed with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the wet, obscene noise heightening his arousal. His gaze stayed on Valentino’s cock, still leaking blood in profuse streams, the tip a monstrous, crimson, puffy spectacle that fuelled the fire roaring in Tom’s gut

Faster.

Harder.

His breath hitched, muscles tensing as the coil in his stomach tightened, winding tighter and tighter until it was almost unbearable. He could feel it – the edge drawing closer, and with a growl, he pushed himself to his feet, staggering forward to position himself above Valentino’s tear-streaked face.

“You should know this routine, Val. You fucking love money shots,” Tom growled through gritted teeth, his hand a blur as he pumped his cock furiously. The slick sound of his strokes filled the room, building with every desperate gasp.

His mind went white-hot as the climax finally crashed into him. With a pure, unfiltered, guttural moan, Tom let his head fall back, hips jerking as ropes of thick, hot cum shot from him, painting Valentino’s face in sticky white streaks. The droplets splattered across his cheeks, some landing on his pink-tinted glasses, smearing across the lenses like a filthy mark of ownership.

But it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.

Tom stood there for a moment, chest heaving, his hand still loosely wrapped around his cock, but the hunger in him refused to face. His cock still twitched, still begged for more. He wasn’t done yet. He couldn’t be done. Not with Valentino laid out before him like this, vulnerable and broken. This was an opportunity too good to waste – a chance to push Valentino past the edge of despair and into true ruin.

He turned toward the nearby box of toys again. His eyes, scanning the contents, glittering with sadistic glee as they fell upon a box of sharp acupuncture pins. Ideas blossomed in his mind, twisted, fragile, and beautiful. He grabbed them without hesitation, already envisioning the next stage of pleasure.

When he stood and looked back, his grin only widened. Valentino was trembling, his body spasming uncontrollably as thick white cum, tinged with red streaks, leaked from the tip of his still-throbbing cock. The sight of it sent a rush of heat through Tom’s veins – Valentino had come despite it all, despite the pain.

The bastard had found release, however fleeting.

“Fucking hell, Val...you already came?” Tom muttered, amusement lacing his words as he stalked closer. But no matter – it wasn’t over yet. The drug coursing through Valentino’s veins would ensure that he stayed rock-hard, no matter how much he came. His body wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t find release, not until every drop of that drug was purged from his system.

And Tom planned to take full advantage of that.

Sitting back in front of Valentino, Tom let a slow, dark hum escape him, the haunting melody echoing a distant memory from his past. Valentino’s broken murmurs finally reached his ears, soft, slurred words that barely made sense. “Please...no more...please,” followed by a hoarse, trembling, “it fucking hurts.”

Tom’s breath grew ragged, his heart hammering in his chest as excitement spread through his veins like wildfire. After years of being stepped on, spat on, and treated as less than nothing, here, presently, with Valentino sobbing and powerless before him, Tom had never felt so alive, so untouchable, dominant.

“Val, you’re disappointing me,” Tom taunted, his voice dripping with mock sympathy as his fingers hovered over the sharp pin. The beaded end reflected from the dim light, each end adorned with a bright array of blues, reds, and yellows. Slowly, almost reverently, he positioned the pointed end against the side of Valentino’s shaft, savouring the way the soft skin quivered beneath his touch.

Then, mercilessly, he pushed.

The pointed edge pierced the delicate flesh easily, sinking in like a hot knife through butter.

“Ah-ah-ahhhhhhh!” Valentino’s scream tore through the room, his body convulsing weakly, as if trying to escape the pain. But it was futile – the drug coursing through his veins kept him paralyzed, a prisoner to his own body, left to writhe under Tom’s sadistic whims.

Tom’s high-pitched giggles burst out as he pushed the pin further, watching intently as the sharp glinting metal disappeared, blood welling up around the wound before spilling into crimson rivulets down Valentino’s cock.

The bead rested at the base, nestled against the taut skin, a small, bright mark of Tom’s handiwork – his – ah – gift. Valentino’s agony was palpable, his cries a broken record that sent shivers of pleasure down Tom’s spine.

“We’ll play a little game, Val,” Tom purred, his voice low and dripping with dark intent. His cock throbbed, standing fully erect, aching for release again as he admired the sight before him. Valentino’s tear-streaked face, the faint glimmer of cum still clinging to the rose-tinted lenses of his glasses – it was a masterpiece of suffering.

“Tell me what my name is, and I’ll stop decorating your cock,” he groaned, his gaze fixating on the sounding protruding from Valentino’s urethra, the tip slowly oozing out fresh blood.

Valentino’s breath hitched as his swollen, tear-filled eyes flicked up toward Tom, but his mind was a haze of torment. “I...I don’t know...” His voice was broken, his words thick and heavy, each syllable a struggle to form as his tongue lolled out between each breath.

“Well, that’s a shame,” Tom replied brightly, a cruel smirk tugging at his lips. Without hesitation, he reached for another pin, this time a bright blue one. With practised ease, he slid it into Valentino’s flesh, revelling in the fresh wave of agonized cries that filled the warm, musky air. The cries fuelled Tom, his hand drifting back to his own cock, stroking slowly, deliberately, as he watched Valentino’s face contort in suffering.

“I - fuck...Paul?” Valentino sobbed, weakly thrashing against the binds. His body trembled like a leaf in the wind.

“Wrong again,” Tom whispered, voice drenched with satisfaction. His arousal mounted with every scream; every helpless sob, Valentino gave. It was intoxicating, the way each pin drove Valentino further into the depths of agony. “Ah, fuck...” Tom groaned, his grip tightening around his cock as he pushed the next pin in, his mind lost in the perverse pleasure of it all.

It was almost tragic – really, how easily Valentino had forgotten his name, as if the pain had burned away every memory. Tom’s gaze darkened as he picked up the last pin in the small pouch, a red one this time, and drove it deep into the only remaining space into Valentino’s shaft.

The result was hauntingly beautiful. The pins, bright beads of colour, embedded deep into his bleeding cock, turned the once-proud organ into something...festive. The crimson blood oozed from the wounds, staining Valentino’s balls and the sheets beneath him in a macabre display.

“For being such a good boy, how about I reward you, Val?” Tom cooed, his voice sickly sweet, his heart beating frantically as he heard the faint, hoarse whispers of “no” spilling from Valentino’s lips. But Tom had already made up his mind. His eyes couldn’t tear away from the oversized sparkly pink dildo standing proudly by the bedside table.

It was a monstrosity, the size of Valentino’s forearm, a brutal weapon of destruction that could easily tear someone apart. The girth alone was enough to ruin anyone permanently.

Straining, Tom grasped the oversized dildo, the artificial scent of manufactured plastic sharp in his nostrils. With a firm shove of Valentino’s shoulder, his body was forced forward. Valentino hissed in agony as his raw, bloodied cock made contact with the rough bedsheet, another strangled cry of desperation filling the room.

“Please...no more,” Valentino whimpered, his voice a broken whisper lost to the air.

Tom, unmoved, set the dildo down on the bed beside them. He leaned over, pressing a finger to Valentino’s trembling lips, shushing him softly. Without warning, he gripped Valentino’s narrow waist, lifting his limp, rag-doll body off the bed. He positioned Valentino’s trembling form over the massive toy, resting the tip of the monstrous cock right against Valentino’s tight ring of muscle.

“Fuck, no! No!” Valentino’s cries were frantic now, his voice hoarse with panic. “I’ll do whatever you want, anything – please, I’ll give you anything, just – please,” his spittle flew, and drool leaked into a stringy goop of mess.

But Tom didn’t care. His mind was lost in the ecstasy of the moment, the thrill of control that made his pulse quicken and his cock throb. The sight of Valentino’s body trembling on the brink of being impaled, the helplessness in his eyes, only heightened Tom’s desire. His urge to stroke himself into oblivion gnawed at him, but he forced himself to savour this moment.

With deliberate calm, Tom stood behind Valentino, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder as though he were offering comfort. He took a slow, deep breath, leaning close. “Relax, Val...it’ll feel good,” he whispered, pressing the side of his face with Valentino’s. “For me, that is,” he finished with a cruel laugh, before he suddenly slammed Valentino down onto the dildo.

The reaction was immediate. Valentino’s screams were ripped from his throat, his voice breaking into a guttural wheeze as his body convulsed in agony. His ass, unprepared and unable to accommodate the sheer size of the dildo, stretched obscenely around it. Tom’s grip on Valentino’s hips was unrelenting as he forced him lower, ignoring the frantic, incoherent pleas spilling from his lips. Valentino begged, over and over, but Tom’s focus never wavered.

Slowly, inch by agonizing inch, Valentino’s body was pushed further down, the monstrous toy rearranging his insides. Tom shivered with sick satisfaction as he watched the bulge begin to form in Valentino’s lower belly, the outline of the dildo distending his thin frame. The sight was glorious, obscene, the kind of thing that made Tom’s cock throb with unbearable need.

With a hoarse, broken cry, Valentino’s cock spasmed violently. A messy burst of semen erupting from the tip, spraying onto the sheets as his lolled backward in a mix of unbearable pain and cruelly forced pleasure. His entire body shook, trembling like a newborn calf, but still, Tom paid no mind to his suffering. His only focus was on forcing Valentino to take the full length of the dildo, every, damning inch.

“Aren’t I such a generous partner, Val?” Tom’s voice was light, almost teasing, as Valentino’s body finally sank to the hilt, his entire lower half impaled on the dildo. “You told me my cock wasn’t enough for you, so I got you something better. Aren’t you grateful?”

“Anything,” Valentino muttered weakly, tears streaming down his cheeks, his voice barely a whisper. “I’ll tell you anything...anything...” His words were slurred, trembling, lost in the haze of agony and fear. His lower half was a horrific mess of blood and cum, staining both his skin and the bedsheets.

Tom scoffed, shaking his head. “Sure, Val. Tell me something...something no one else knows.” He knelt down in front of Valentino, his cock hard and leaking, pressing the length of it against Valentino’s mutilated, beaded shaft. Valentino let out a sharp hiss of pain, the movement sending a fresh wave of agony through him as Tom slowly rubbed his cock along Valentino’s smearing the mix of blood and cum across his skin.

Gripping the sounding still embedded in Valentino’s urethra, Tome began to move it with a slow, deliberate motions, tugging it up and down as Valentino’s sobs grew louder, more pitiful. “Go on,” Tom panted, his breath hitching as he felt the edge of his cock brush against the smooth end of the beaded tip. “Tell me...” he moaned, his eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure build inside him, the sensation of Valentino’s mutilated, swollen shaft heightening every stroke.

Valentino could only sob harder, his body trembling uncontrollably as Tom’s cruel, taunting touch brought him closer to the edge of madness. Tom’s breath quickened, his moans becoming louder, more guttural, as he lost himself in the feel of Valentino’s bloodied flesh pressed right up again him.

“We-we’re planning to a-attack the Princess of Hell’s hotel next w-week,” Valentino stuttered, his voice trembling with fear and pain. “W-we have an army...ngh...equipped with...hah...” His words faltered as Tom recklessly pulled the sounding halfway out of his cock, before thrusting it back in with a sickening squelch. Valentino gasped, choking on his words as a thick bubble of blood oozed from the tip. “A-angelic s-steel,” he finally managed to wheeze, his mouth hanging open, drool and snot mingling and dribbling down his chin.

Tom’s hand paused. The words barely registered – he couldn’t care less about some redemption hotel. It held absolutely zero interest to him. Still, this was information the Vees clearly kept close to their chest, and it might be useful later. He could figure out how to capitalize on it later tonight. For now, his gaze fell back on Valentino’s wrecked face, streaked with tears and fluids, eyes wide in terror and agony. The moment of truth was upon him.

It was time to burst through the cocoon of suffocating oppression, and chase his own glorious release.

With a sharp, brutal yank, Tom pulled the sounding free. Valentino’s body convulsed, a violent spasm wracking him and his pained moans barely audible.

Tom groaned, feeling his own need swell within him. He gripped both their cocks, pressing them together, his hand sliding up and down their lengths as he ground against Valentino’s swollen, purple shaft.

Valentino let out another broken sob as the pin buried in his cock shifted, the pressure causing his member to turn an even deeper shade of purple. His cock pulsed painfully as Tom quickened his pace, chasing the edge of his orgasm.

“Oh fuck...fuck,” Tom panted, the wet squelching sound of their cocks sliding together filling the room alongside Valentino’s pitiful, broken whimpers. With one final hard thrust, Tom let out a low, guttural moan, his body seizing in pleasure as thick ropes of cum erupted from his cock, painting Valentino’s limp, bloodied body. His seed splattered across Valentino’s sweat-slick chest, mixing with the blood and cum staining his swollen cock.

Panting heavily, Tom finally collapsed backward, his body spent, his cock softening as the heady, addicting sensation of pleasure washed over him. He hadn’t felt this kind of pure, unadulterated pleasure in decades. His body felt light, like a weight had been lifted from his soul.

He glanced down at Valentino’s face – his red eyes were blown wide open, but they had lost all focus, glazed over in shock and exhaustion. His tongue hung limply from the side of his mouth, his body completely still, suspended from the ceiling by the ropes binding him. Even now, after countless brutal releases, Valentino’s cock remained comically hard, the veins bulging angrily against his abused skin.

It looked like the moth Overlord had finally reached his breaking point. Valentino was hanging their unconscious, barely breathing, his body slack and lifeless. Tom couldn’t help the satisfied smile that tugged at his lips.

Valentino made such a handsome, tragic painting like this – strung up, covered in a mixture of blood and cum. Tom took a long moment to admire the scene, grateful he had captured every beautiful detail with his camcorder. This was a memory he would savour for a very long time.

It was a show he would watch over and over again.

With a final glance at Valentino’s broken, beautiful form, Tom took his time getting dressed, slipping his shirt back on as he pocketed the camcorder. As he exited the room, he could still hear the pulsing beat of music from the club. No one would notice what had transpired – everyone was far too lost in their own indulgence, high and drunk, as the sound of moans and cries of ecstasy filled the air from the mass orgy happening just down the hall.

Tom slipped his hands into his pockets, humming a small, contented tune as he left the clubroom, felling more alive than he had...ever.

Once the haze of his high started to fade, his mind sharpened, and he remembered the information Valentino had spilled. Taking out a burner phone, Tom extracted the audio of Valentino’s confession, his broken voice detailing the Vees’ plans to attack the hotel. With a smirk, he sent the audio file to the head of Voxtek with a brief message:

“It would be a shame if this got leaked to the public.”

It didn’t take long. Within seconds, a reply appeared on his phone from the head-honcho himself:

“Name your price.”

Tom stared at the neat, blocky text on the screen, his mind racing with unlimited potential. He knew the power the Overlords held – one wrong move, and they could easily snuff him out like a flickering candle. But if he played his cards right, if he handled this just carefully enough...

A small, manic laugh bubbled up from his throat, his fingers digging into his mask – his face – as the realization hit him.

Finally.

He was going to be a somebody.

Follow #vexitober 2024 to read my questionable kink/fluff stories!

End Note: This was by far the darkest piece of fanfiction I've written with explicit sexual violence. I generally stay away from writing this genre because it is emotionally draining and I wasn't sure if I could write it well - or handle it with care.

The main point of this story isn't for sexual gratification - it was about Tom who had been beaten down all his life and finally found some semblance of control and power through the act of despicable sexual acts/torture. I wanted to convey that feeling and my intention is not to fetishize it.

All in all, it was a cathartic experience to write someone crazy and unhinged and let my imagination let loose.

54 notes · View notes

here-comes-the-moose · 6 months ago

Text

Bad Batch Modern AU Headcanons Under the Cut

Echo

Does not like red wine. It gives him a headache and heartburn (he’s just like me fr).

Plans Friday Fundays with Omega after she gets out of school.

Great at cooking and baking, but absolutely needs to follow the recipe. If he’s tries to improvise or experiment, the food is not edible at all.

Can flawlessly do a shot with no hands.

Has done a keg stand.

Before the loss of his limbs, he used to NEVER get hungover, no matter how much he drank. Even now, his hangovers are pretty mild. He’s just built different.

Was recruited to be one of the room parents for Omega’s class.

The only one who can get through to Crosshair when his mental health gets really bad.

Has their house decorated like the most stereotypical suburban mom. I’m talking Live Laugh Love signs, a beach-themed bathroom, so many throw pillows and blankets that you can barely sit, a rotation on of seasonal decor, the list goes on.

Hunter

Cannot sing for shit.

The king of dad jokes.

Has absolutely no fashion sense. Negative drip. He’s wearing socks and sandals unironically.

World’s worst cook. Managed to burn and undercook a pancake. Gave Crosshair food poisoning.

Banned from grilling after he set all the food they got for their 4th of July barbecue on fire.

Gets migraines. He gets extremely sensitive to sound and smells.

The only person Crosshair lets look after him when he isn’t feeling well.

Views expiration dates as suggestions. Somehow has never gotten sick.

Constantly going on Tinder dates.

Tech

Total chick magnet.

Does not realize this.

Constantly drives over the speed limit (except in school zones) but miraculously has never gotten a speeding ticket.

Best at making cocktails.

The most intense one about making sure they all eat healthy.

His shoulders and neck get really tense, from sitting at a computer and from carrying most of his stress there.

Does not like crispy bacon.

Wrecker

Grill master.

Actually great at cooking and baking. He can improvise and experiment with ease and the food comes out even better.

Always showing off photos of Omega when he’s at work.

Saw the Barbie movie more than once. He cried each time.

LOVES to listen to Kesha.

His music taste is basically just 2000’s-2010’s party girl music.

Used to choreograph dances that he would then perform with Crosshair and Fives for the rest of their family when they were kids.

Gives the best massages.

Wears the New Balance dad sneakers. Crosshair HATES them.

Crosshair

Banned from their local Applebee’s for getting extremely sloppy off their dollaritas.

Gets motion sick sometimes, mostly in cars.

HATES air travel.

Top three artists on Spotify are My Chemical Romance, Taylor Swift, and Lana Del Rey (he’s just like me fr)

Also gets migraines. Unlike Hunter, he isn’t that sound sensitive, but he gets extremely sensitive to light and smells and gets auras with his migraines.

Also saw the Barbie movie more than once (he went with Wrecker). He also cried.

Has a crush on Tony Soprano (don’t ask why the thought came into my head and wouldn’t leave)

Babies and toddlers love him for some reason.

Will not eat or drink something if the expiration date is within two days. Gets extremely grossed out by Hunter not caring for expiration dates.

Secretly a hopeless romantic.

Omega

Learned her first curse word from Echo when he let one slip while driving.

Repeated the word in front of Hunter, who nearly had a heart attack.

Looks just like Crosshair when he was a kid.

Likes going out with Crosshair because he almost always gets her a little treat.

Gets annoyed by how many people in her class and some of their parents have a crush on one of her brothers.

Has tried to play matchmaker for her brothers before.

All of her brothers give amazing hugs, but she secretly thinks Echo’s are the best.

Batcher

She was a rescue dog.

She’s a gray pittie.

Her favorite person is Crosshair and she’s always following him around and is always at his side.

Goes crazy for cold cuts.

Was originally going to be brought to the shelter if they couldn’t find an owner, but Hunter agreed to keep her when he saw how happy she made Omega and Crosshair.

Her tail has a kink because it broke and didn’t heal properly.

Feel free to add more if you’d like! I have included some of these in my Modern AU works.

#star wars tbb #star wars the bad batch #tbb crosshair #the bad batch #arc trooper echo #tbb hunter #tbb echo #tbb omega #tbb wrecker #tbb tech #tbb headcanons #bad batch headcanon #bad batch headcanons #bad batch modern au

144 notes · View notes

mint-moon25 · 8 months ago

Video

youtube

Nice as Nails! 🍓 Berry Bitty Adventures 🍓 Strawberry Shortcake 🍓

WOKE - UP - 5:50A EDT - MY - MILITARY - WATCH

AMAZON - PRIME - PROTECTED - BY - WATER FL

PROOF - 100% - HIKER’s - CAMPERS’ - BACKPACK

BUT - COULDN’T - HEAR - THE - ALARM - SO - WILL

TAKE - THAT - OUT - B 4 - SLEEPING - TRUE

SAID - AWAKE - ‘TOO - EARLY’ - WENT BACK

2 - SLEEP - BUT - WOKE - UP - AGAIN - 6:18A

SAID - DEPENDS - ON - WEATHER - QUITE

NICE - BLOND - NOW - SITTING - NEAR ME

BUT - DISABLED - TABLE - BUT - I’M - TRUE

COVERING - THAT - SYMBOL

SPANISH - SPEAKING - ALWAYS - TAKE - AT

ONCE - DISABLED - ELDERLY - SEATS - AT

METROMOVER - FREE - TRAINS

WHITES - PUT - THEIR - KIDS - THERE - 2

TEACHING - KIDS - U - ARE - CHILDREN

U - SIT - ON - DISABLED - AND - ELDERLY

SEATS - THEY’RE - AMERICANS

TRAIN - YOUR - CHILDREN - BY - THE

WAY - THEY - SHOULD - B - AND - THEY

WON’T - DEPART - FR - THEIR - WAYS

HOMELESS - BLK - MEN - IT’s - THEIR

SEATS - LATER - ‘THEY’RE - MENTALLY

ILL’ - THEY’RE - DISABLED - AS - THEY

ROBBED - SSI - OF - FUNDS - 4 - THE

PHYSICALLY - DISABLED

AMERICA

BLIND - $943 - EVERY - FIRST

HUD - RESIDENTS - AS - BLIND

NOT - CREATED - 4 - DISABLED

NO - ELEVATOR - WHEELCHAIR

MUST - LIVE - 1ST - FLOOR - HEAR

WALKING - OF - OTHERS - ILLEGAL

BLIND - IN - A - HUD - ILLEGAL APTS

CREATED - BY - DEMOCRAT - PRES

JOHNSON - WITH - MEDICAID - AND

MEDICARE - THEY - GET - FREE

ELECTRICITY - HISPANICS - BLKS

GRABBED - BY - MENTAL - ILLNESS

ILLEGAL - BUT - TRUE

BLIND - HUD - RESIDENT

FOOD - STAMPS - (SNAP) - $15 - ONLY

PER - MONTH - AS - BLIND - PEOPLE

DEAR - KOREAN - GIRLS,

WE’RE - TAKING - THE - DISABLED

CATS - DOGS - NO - COLLARS ABOUT

2 B - GASED - 2 - DEATH - KILL - YES

SHELTERS

NEW - DEMOCRAT - PARTY

CLOSING - THOSE - SHELTERS

REPRODUCTION - IN - WHOLE - OF

ADOLPH HITLER - CHRISTIANS

OF - GERMANY

CATS - DOGS - BORN - IN - USA

CITIZENS - OF - UNITED STATES

8TH - VIOLATED

CRUEL - AND - UNUSUAL - PUNISHMENT

MIAMI - POLICE - LAUGH

KILL - SHELTER - IS - NOT - FINES - TOO

‘CRUELTY - 2 - ANIMALS’

BE - RID - OF - POOP

AMERICANS - KILL - ANIMALS

14TH - ‘NO - STATE - CAN - DEPRIVE - PERSON

OF - LIFE’ - SO - THEY - CREATED - KILL - YES

SHELTERS - 2 - KILL - ANIMALS - CATS - DOGS

FLORIDA - FEEDS - CROCODILES

CHARGES - TOURISTS - 2 C - THEM

USA - KILLS - CATS - DOGS - NO - COLLARS

EUROPE - ASIA - EATS - CATS - AND - DOGS

PHILIPPINES - EATS - DOGS - AND - WORMS

PETNA

ARE - YOU - STILL - POWERFUL?

ARE - YOU - VEGANS?

DON’T - WORRY - ABOUT - IT

PHILIPPINE - REPUBLIC - TAKING - ALL

ANIMALS - KILL - SHELTERS - WE WILL

HEAL - THEM - AIR CONDITIONING - ON

OUTSIDE - THEY - GO - 2 - MINDANAO

LARGEST - ISLAND - OF - PILIPINAS - 2

SOUNDPROOFED - WE’RE - GETTING

LIKE - NOAH’s - ARC

ALL - ENDANGERED - ANIMALS - OF

THE - WORLD - SURGERIES - HEALING

BREEDING - GOD - SAID - 2 - TAKE YES

DOMINION - OF - ANIMALS - NOT

SLAUGHTER - THEM - OUR - TOKYO

MALE - SCIENTISTS - 2 - HELP - US

WHO - 2 - PUT - TOGETHER

LOTS - OF - WILD - DOMESTIC - ANIMALS

STARVING - WORLD - WIDE - WE - WILL

FEED - HEAL - THEM - WRITE - BOOKS

ABOUT - THEM - HOW - 2 - TAKE - CARE

OF - DOLPHINS - WHALES - I - LOVE

WILD - AND - DOMESTIC - ANIMALS

REMEMBER - FLORIDA - WEBSITES

TEACUP - TERRIER - YORKS

SALE - $3,995 - EACH

REGULAR - OVER - $6,995 - TAXES

BRITISH - SHORTHAIR - MALE CAT

ALL - PURE BREDS

CHAMPION - BLOODLINES

BOTH - WILL - WIN - COMPETITIONS

BRIT - CAT - $2,220 - EACH - OTHERS

MORE - ALSO

DEAR - KOREAN - GIRLS,

LOVE - THE - CATS - CAFES

AS - YOU - PLAY - AND - TOUCH - THE

BEAUTIFUL - LIVING - FURS - LOVE IT

BUT - WHEN - THEY’RE UGLY IN - USA

EUROPE - ASIA - THEY - EAT - THEM

THEY - KILL - THEM - SO SO WRONG

WHY - ARE - OTHERS - POOR - AND

SICKLY - DEAD - FR - DISEASES - AS

2 - HOW - ARE - THEY - WITH - THEIR

POOR - HOMELESS - THEIR ANIMALS

SPECIAL - MARINES

SPECIAL - AIR FORCE

SPECIAL - NAVY

MILITARY - SURGEONS

ADULTS - BULLET - AND - KNIFE

KIDS - EYES AND DENTAL SURGERY

WILD - AND - DOMESTIC - ANIMALS

SURGEONS - AND - BABY DELIVERY

OUTDOORS - NEAR - RIVERS - AND

MOUNTAINS - AT - CAMPSITES AND

CAMPGROUNDS - BABY - DELIVERY

MACHINES - 2 - DO - SURGERIES

MACHINES - 2 - DELIVER - BABIES

THEIR - HATS - BLUE - PINK

THEIR - TEMPERATURES

WHAT - MILITARY - SURGEONS DO

NO - MORE - NURSES - ANY - KIND

ALL - MILITARY - SURGEONS

GRADUATING - EVERYONE - EARLY

PHILIPPINE - REPUBLIC

TAX - SMOKE - CRIME - FREE

MAKATI - MINDORO - ISLAND

WORLDWIDE

MAKATI - VILLAGES

KOREAN - VILLAGES

LEGAL - PERMIT

MOANA - VILLAGES

TONGUES - ONLY - 4 - ALL

MOANA - REPRESENTING

ALL - THE - BLK - WOMEN

AND - KIDS - REMOVED FR

HAITI - ONLY - IF - THEY

WANT - TONGUES - ONLY 2

TE FITI - GREEN - GODDESS

ABOVE - THEM - 2 - REPRESENT

MOANA - VILLAGES - ANOTHER

POST - SO - SPECTACULAR

WE - RESCUE - KIDS - WOMEN

WORLDWIDE

COMBAT - HOURLY

500 BILLION - X - 25 - EA HOUR

BRITISH - SHORTHAIR - MALE CAT

OR - 2 - SMALL - MALE - DOGS EA

REQUIRED - PER - FLIGHT

REQUIRED - PER - COMBAT

SO - NEVER - ALONE - ALWAYS

SECURED - CONFIDENT - YES

NEVER - ALONE - ESPECIALLY

BY - FLIGHT - ALL - AUTO

FLIGHT - SQUADRON LEADER

CONTROLS - FLYING - SPEED

WHILE - ALL - GIRLS - FAINT AS

THEY - FINISH - COMBAT WHILE

FLYING - NO - PROBLEM

SQUAD - LEADER - FLIES - ALL

BUT - HERS - IS - ALSO - AUTO

SHE - CAN - FAINT - 2

DESIGNED - BY - TOKYO MALE

SCIENTISTS - NO - BOMBS YES

EVER - LEAVING - NOW - 9:12A

READY - 2 GO 2 - MAIN LIBRARY

WAKING - UP - 6A - (MON - FRI)

JESUS - IS - LORD

ARE YOU - READY

KOREAN - GIRLS 2

#youtube

1 note · View note

specialmoogakii · 2 years ago

Text

The lil oneshot of early midnight be like:

Warning:grammatical errors

You were just trying to eat your lunch in complete peace before Vanessa came to say that monty destroyed another charging station due to his impatient attitude. You missed a lot of lunch times just because Vanessa wasn't able to handle monty; everytime you tried to teach Vanessa,she come up with the excuse "the animatronics prefer you then her" which,not gonna lie, she wasn't lying.

You did notice a few of things that the animatronics use to do only when you're around,especially Freddy, the most iconic of the brand. Freddy always follow you around like a lost puppy,tries to let you join in the kids game to let you have fun,constant compliments and the list goes on. Heck,all your coworkers call you "The Fazstar" or something. You had the impression they were mocking you but you let it slide,you didn't want to ruin your day even more.

Anyway,you're able to eat your sandwich and enjoy these 10 minute of pure relaxation,finally away from the chaotic life outside of the breakroom. That what you thought you would experience but no. Because you hear heavy footsteps coming closer to the door. "

"Goddamn it,please don't be an emergency" you sigh mentally,preparing to her whatever freddy want to say,you knew it was him. He's the only one who got that weird feature anyway.

Freddy open the door and immediately smile at you,waving really happily at you as usual. You waves back in confusion and continue to eat your sandwich,waiting for him to spit out whatever emergency he was assigned to tell you.

But it never happen.

The only thing that broke the silence was you eating the sandwich loudly and the freddy's footstep getting close to you. You gulp a little scared,this situasion was making you nervous even if it was freddy involved.

"U-Uh,freddy?" You says catching Freddy attention even more. He was ready to listen to you. "Do you have an reason to be here,buddy? Cause,you're breaking a rule. You're not suppose to be here" You questioned to freddy, not wanting him to get in trouble just for visiting you. The breakroom was reversed only for employees and if one animatronic enter here.. well you don't know what happen but you don't want to find out.

"No,i actually don't" freddy answered with an nonchalant attitude,only to be soon replaced with those big ol eyes full of love. He kneel down and put his chin on the table, caressing his face close to your free hand.

"I just miss you,superstar" This animatronic has the audacity to hit you in the heart at your lunchtime. You awe and pat him,gladly accepting his request of a headpat, even though its been 2 minute since you last saw him. Freddy being clingy is adorable yet weird for a bear. They should had make him a dog.

"Awe buddy, not you trying to hit my heart so i would forget you broke the rule" you boop his nose to knock him out of his lovedovey state,he look at you with a smile,absolutely unapologetic. Freddy doesn't break many rules,this is the first rule he broke actually.

"Im sorry for that rule i broke" freddy says still smiling,obviously not caring a bit about the little silly rule. "I just wanted some time alone with you,superstar. You're so special to me" freddy get up to give you a kiss on the forehead making your heart melt and probably your sandwich too.

You laugh at him and tries to continue eating the sandwich. Freddy must have take this as a challenge and start smooching you,probably believing the sandwich was more interesting then him.

"fr-freddy! Oh my lord! If its not Vanessa,its you to interrupt me on my lunchbreak!" You tried to say and free yourself from the Faztrap,putting the sandwich down so it doesn't end on the floor.

"Hanging out with gregory was a bad influence on you,huh-" You giggles while Freddy continues to smooching you and showing you all the affection in the world. Until-

"oh my god! Freddy! You're not suppose to be here"

Here's Vanessa. Ruining the moment once again.

#five nights at freddy's security breach #five nights at freddy's #fnaf sb #fnaf security breach x reader #fnaf security breach #glamrock freddy x reader #fnaf glamrock freddy #fnaf x reader #fnaf freddy #oneshot #fnaf oneshot

84 notes · View notes

echos-newlegs · 3 years ago

Text

Alright so this is a little different from what I have been doing, but it has been on my MIND. I swear I am working on requests too, writing a spicy Tech fic rn.

But anyways.

Due to this post by @spaceydragons I have come up with a series of headcanons for my beloved Echo, but as a country boy because as a country-ish girl myself I love them. (Was fr late to work the other day because of a farmer and his flock of geese on the road and had to help him chase them back into their pin. It had just rained so they were running to the ditch when he didn't get the gate shut all the way 😭)

But enough stories, have this series of headcanons because I feel no one would like a story over it LMAO

If you want me to do a differentcharacter for this au, just shoot me a message, ask, or a comment!! I have ideas for the rest of TBB and some other clone boys and even some Generals 😌

Sorry this is LONG

Echo would be the type that would take you out fishing your first date.

He is a bit shy and awkward, but fishing is something that doesn't need a lot of talking, but you can.

It is something that is peaceful and relaxing, plus he can help you if need be.

Or you can even help him.

I feel like he would absolutely love hunting with you too!

Not hunting with guns, but hunting for different herbs or foods.

He wouldn't be opposed to hunting animals, but it isn't always his cup of tea.

I headcanon that maybe he and all the rest of TBB were in a war, but they made it out.

Echo lost his arm and legs to it.

Which fives told you when you first met them. "Yep, the war cost my buddy an arm and TWO legs."

Echo was not amused and wanted to beat up Fives for embarrassing him in front of a pretty lady.

He is very insecure about his prosthetics at first, but after you assure him that you think they're unique and what makes him, him. He thinks he absolutely wants to die for you.

Plus you admire the fact that he can still do the things he loves even with a fake arm. Which he doesn't always put on around you after you reassure him a few times that it's fine.

He would definitely brag you up if you caught a big ass fish.

"Oh, you caught that? That ain't NOTHIN' compared to what my girl caught down at the lake the other night. 'Bout the size of her arm!"

This may be me being biased, but he would love night fishing too.

He would put his pole up sometimes just to hold you in his lap while you let your line set in the water.

Just admiring the feel of you pressed against his chest and the way the moon light reflected off your features.

He would also love sleeping with you in a hammock.

Unless it's hotter than all get out.

Then he'd stick to two separate hammocks while the two of you talked and slowly dozed off for an afternoon nap.

He also seems like the gardener of the group along with Wrecker.

He would have a mad green thumb with his gentle giant brother.

Though Wrecker would prefer the flowers, while Echo would be more for the fruits and veggies.

Echo would be in close contact with the 501st still, as well.

Taking you over to meet his other brothers. Meet their families and friends as well.

You and Fives would click with the 501st just as well as you do the Bad Batch, and Echo would love you even more for it.

Tbh in this hc I feel TBB would be more the hillbillies and the other clone units. Especially the 501st would be the farming/rancher types.

So Echo would have traits from both.

He would take you for a ride in the tractor, too 😏

He would let you feed the animals and play with the dogs.

Rex would absolutely love you as well. For the fact you're so nice to them and help them out even when Echo isn't around, AND the fact that you are taking care of his brother.

"I haven't seen him this happy since I upped his and Fives' rank."

You would feel absolutely amazing about yourself.

Until Hardcase and Jesse demanded you cook them all a meal.

To which you would, but you'd deep down hate it only for the fact they could all eat a fucking horse, each.

You would be cooking most the night when all the boys got together.

Echo would help out, along with some of his other brothers you trusted in the kitchen.

Like Kix, Tup, and especially Fives.

No one knew how Fives was such a damned good cook, but he was.

Echo would watch you braid Tups hair and make a mental not to let his hair grow out longer.

He loves it when you run your fingers over his shorter hair, but the way Tup seemed to be nearly falling asleep against your thing as he sat on the floor in between your legs while you sat in the chair and braided his hair? He knew he'd love it.

So this actually happened to my uncle 💀. But I feel like Echo would lose his prosthetics as least once. Say he has an old truck, but he loves it? Yeah there's a hole in the floor and "PULL OVER THERE GOES MY FUCKING LEG-" "AGAIN?? ECHO-"

Okay, okay. But imagine- you, Echo, and TBB all going for drives to the lake???

I feel like everyone but Echo and Crosshair would fully submerge themselves underwater on hot days.

Cross seems like he wouldn't enjoy it much. Maybe a little? But I deadass feel like he can't swim.

This may be me projecting my own fears onto Echo(I do that sometimes.) But I really feel like he would be scared of deep waters. Even before he lost his limbs.

He only sits near the water and occasionally goes in with you, but you have to be right next to him at all times while holding his hand

Plus he won't let it go past his mid calve.

Echo would most definitely make you stuff too!

You want a new coffee table?

Bam, him and Tech made you a new one.

It's your anniversary?

Well lookie there, you have a necklace he made just for you!

He would also spoil you.

Even if he doesn't have the most money, he would do little things that meant the world to you.

OKAY OKAY- BUT PROPER DATE NIGHTS-

THey would be little picnics outdoors on a blanket with you favorite sandwiches and drink 🥺🥺

He would wear a buttoned up flannel and blue jeans with cowboy boots because they are easy to slip over his prosthetics.

You unbutton his flannel to find nothing underneath 😏

Oh, and I do feel he would have scarring from the explosion. Which I always hc him with.

He would also have a mega bad farmers tan, because same.

He'd melt each time you trace his scars and nearly malfunction when you kiss them 😩

In conclusion, he would be the best country boyfriend.

188 notes · View notes

yoichichi · 4 years ago

Text

Bunny’s 200 follower event

request: ok this is for my baby, my shawty, my luv xoxo, my bitch, my world, my EVERYTHING 😩 @plutowrites her request was sent in private so imma keep it that way ❣️ please enjoy baby 💓

a/n: ok so I know you got boyfie kenma but this is who I’d match you with excluding that scary mf 😌😙 sooo say hello to boyfie #2 & #3

Reading your request, you have been matched with...

(づ￣ ³￣)づ Tsukishima Kei

I just knew eventually we’d come to this Pluto 😪 let’s address the mental illness that is being with Tsukishima 😪 IM JUST KIDDING PLS

Ok but no fr everything you’re looking for in a relationship? ^ this guy got

Tsuki is so funny idc

He’ll constantly be whispering snarky remarks in your ear about people around you and just absolutely dog on them and it’s SO funny

And sometimes he’ll just look at you after Hinata said something stupid like 😒 and ITS SO HARD TO NOT BURST INTO TEARS

Like this boy is gonna have you in stitches

And he’s so smart with it too like he’s so witty

He’s also the kind of guy where if you’re dying after he said smth he’s gonna look you up and down with a smirk cause he’s proud of himself LMAO

He’s also not clingey but a lowkey simp

Like he’d never in his fucking life admit to being a simp

But the speed at which he flips his phone when he thinks he might have a notif from you

And the way he will listen to the SAME song on rpt in those mf headphones if it reminds him of you

You’re his home screen too AND HIS EARS WOULD BURN SO BRIGHT RED WHEN YAMS FIRST NOTICES IT

Cause he’s using his phone to text his mom or smth and sees the home screen and is just 🤭😳😏 ~tsukiii

And Tsukis just

😒😐😳🙂

“Give me my phone, you can walk home.”

HES JUST SHY ABOUT LOVING YOU OK

Tsukishima is so decisive too I-

You’d be taking like 3 seconds too long to decide and he’d decide for you LMAO

Or you’d just give him a ~look like 😳🥺 and he’d just know and he’d roll his eyes and figure it out LMAO

Pls you’ll be somewhere and won’t know what you want to eat and you’re getting nervous cause your guys turn to order is coming up and he’d just order something for you he’d know you’d like and after just pull you into his side and kiss the top of your head

“You’re such an idiot.”

you’re VERY lucky he’s good at making good decisions LMAO

Ok he is going to be squishing your cheeks literally all the time????

Like you do anything and he’s grabbing your cheeks with one hand and moving your head back and forth while he talks to you in the mocking baby voice ya know?

“Oh you think you’re so smart baby~”

He’s mean but like, it’s ok cause it’s him and it’s h-hot 😦🤢 and he loves you obviously 🙄

bitch you said banter that borderlines mean? This bout to be your favorite song^ all he DOES is bully

It’s his love language at this point

Your name in his phone is baby 🧡

But he says it’s just your name LMAO

Until you call his phone so he can find it and you see your contact name

Pls bully him about it he deserves it

It does not matter that you’re tall he will call you tiny literally any chance it makes sense

Can you reach things on the top shelf?

Yes

Does he care?

And he will grab it for you and be like

You’re too tiny I got it 🙄✋🏼 LMAO

Okok you mentioned you have eczema

One of Tsukis ways of showing he really does love you is taking care of you

He notices you’re getting low on your cream?

He already went to the store to get some for you

You’re having a flare up and feeling a little insecure?

He’s kissing your temple and whispering how beautiful you look today in your ear, hoping you’ll think about the way his hand is running up and down your arm and how he’s breathing down your neck, and the way the skin behind your ear is burning now from the second kiss he placed, rather than the way you’re eczema is making you feel

He’s a little more affectionate in public that day than he normally would choose to be

It’s subtle, things like intertwining your fingers and kissing your hand before pulling you in his direction rather than the way he’d usually hold your pinky and lightly tug you his way

Or coming up right behind you to look at something you’re showing him, towering over you with his chest against your back

“That’s awesome.” He says it sarcastically but still leans down to press a kiss to your cheek

“C’mon let’s get what we actually came for stupid.”

Even when he’s driving you guys there and back his right hand is resting on your thigh instead of the wheel, only moving to adjust the radio

He notices and his solution to bad thoughts is “think of me instead then bitch”

He keeps literally any and everything you’ve EVER made him

You met in highschool and now live together while you’re in college?

He still has those first things you made him in highschool in a little scrapbook album he made after a couple years of being together

Ok he eats the treats you bake in moderation in front of you ,,, but you’ve come across him more than once getting a midnight snack

🍪😦🧍🏻😅

Crumbs around his mouth and all LMAOOO

ok while he wouldn’t understand the basketball obsession completely he WILL put on a Raptors jersey and sit and watch every game with you and love your reactions

He’s even recorded games for you if you were too busy to watch it and then when you have the time to watch it he IS WEARING HIS JERSEY AND TURNING IT ON ALREADY AND YOURE JUST 🥺🤲🏼

But he’s just 😒 don’t make a big deal out of it

He takes things you’ve baked him to lunch every day bye

OK IM GONNA STOP NOW LMAO

Your vibe reminds me of...

Another suitable match for you would be...

(づ￣ ³￣)づ Jean Kirschtein

OK LISTEN THIS WAS SO HARD

I was reading and I was using my brain HARD I almost said Eren but I don’t think he’d be making smart decisions for y’all... and that mf is too indecisive y’all would really get nothing done LMAO

Apparently I just really love you and Jean

Okok ANYWAYS

Literally the most reliable and attentive mf

He’s a MASTER at being a simp without being too clingy

Always buying things you need from the store (he’s a lil bit of a rich boy too cmon now)

He remembers ALL of your favorite snacks and drinks

And when they change he makes a mental note of it

Literally a quarter of his brain is a roladex of your favorite Haribo gummy’s it’s ridiculous LMAO

He absolutely refuses to share things you bake him with literally anyone

God forbid Sasha gets a whiff, he swears he’ll fist fight her

ITS NOT JUST CAUSE ITS GOOD EITHER

He thinks it’s so special cause you made it for ~him so why tf should someone else get a taste 🤨☝🏼

He’s not even a lowkey simp at this point

The way he’d spoil you pls...

Like at some point you’re like Jean I- I only need so many necklaces

Yeah he’ll just move on to the next thing

Ok this a lil saucey but he’s definitely the type to buy you lingerie he wants to see on you

And if you’re feeling nervous or insecure he’s gonna be all over you and saying all kinds of things in your ear since you’re too shy to make eye contact

Your face is buried in his chest and he’s just running his hands down your sides and whispering little things in your ear like how pretty you are for him and how good you are for trying this on for him

ANYWAYS

He would love to bake with you as a date 🥺🤲🏼

I don’t think he’d be that great ... but he tries!!

And he gets to spend time with you, even if you are laughing at him 🖤

Another one who’s a decision maker

He’s gonna ask you more than tsuki would LMAO but ultimately he’s taking charge in the relationship

He just loves you so much pls

Your vibe reminds me of...

Baby I hope I did this justice 😪🤲🏼 I’m literally in love with you they better watch out... 🔪🧍🏻‍♀️......

Requests are open until February 26th 8:00 pm PST

-🐇out

29 notes · View notes

dalekofchaos · 5 years ago

Text

My problems with Rey

I want to like Rey and I adore Daisy Ridley but her character was poorly written. There is very little development at all. It feels like everyone involved wanted Rey to be this strong female character without any build up or achieving an arc or struggles as a character, so style over substance. Instead of writing a great arc for Rey in TFA, JJ decided oh so brilliantly the best way to write Rey was to make her a mystery(mYsTeRy bOx) and her lack of development is even worse in TLJ. The other issue is Daisy doesn’t think Rey should have any flaws and that’s the problem. So here are my issues with Rey

Note. I’m not going to make the claim that she’s a ‘Mary Sue’ What I will claim though, is she is extremely overpowered, in ways that Luke and Anakin were not. They had special abilities sure, which was explained by them being ‘strong with the force. But they also had fatal flaws, they had obstacles to overcome -and what kept you interested in what was going to happen to them. Rey, besides being overpowered and hyper-competent, is pretty much well liked by everyone she meets (Luke and Anakin were not). She also seems to have no trials, tribulations, obstacles, or character weaknesses that force her to grow (Luke and Anakin both did).

Here are my issues with how they chose to write Rey’s character throughout the Sequel Trilogy

Rey selflessly chooses not to give away BB-8. Rey grew up on Jakku, dog eat dog world. She had no reason to be selfless on that planet. I do love Rey, but it really makes no sense that a person who was raised on a ruthless and violent planet of thieves and scavengers, abandoned and lived the life of a scavenger who barely makes enough to survive. It doesn’t work that she would be selfless and was willing to pass up all that food for a droid she just met. So I think it would help if Rey starts off as a mix of Han Solo and Jyn Erso. Someone who only cares about her own survival and is consumed by her own trauma but learns to overcome her trauma, start caring for other people and something bigger than herself. This would be shown by having Rey sell BB-8 and later after meeting Finn, she learns of the importance of the droid and she feels guilt and fights to get BB-8 back and learn to fight for something bigger than herself. That I think would’ve improved her arc in TFA

Rey perfectly flies The Falcon despite not flying a ship. In the movie she says she’s never flown before and doesn’t know how she did it. In The novel she says she flew ships at night and simulation. That’s all well and good, but if you choose to explain things in the novel, but not in the movie. Then you deliberately chose not to explain how a scavenger who never leaves the planet knows how to fly the Millennium Falcon.

She pulls off maneuvers and mechanical tricks that not even Han Solo could think of and a scene later he is dumbfounded and astonished by Rey

Being mentally probed by Kylo Ren is not a convincing nor acceptable excuse for her to somehow “get the idea to try using the same technique”. It doesn't work that way. it has never worked that way. Kylo Ren had to train all his life with Luke and adulthood with Snoke. All of a sudden, just because Rey turned the probe back on Kylo, she gained mastery over the force? Like Han Solo said "That's not how the force works" You can’t mind trick someone without knowledge of how to do it. You do not just magically figure it out on conjecture and a hunch…. and I don’t care if she failed the first time she attempted it. That doesn’t make up for it. Further, Rey should not know how to use a lightsaber, let alone be able to use it against someone who seems to actually have training with such a weapon. It makes little sense for a lightsaber to be usable in any meaningful way by someone without formal training in its use. The thing is supposed to have a powerful gyroscopic force that makes it unwieldy when it is activated, requiring use of the Force to control it. Furthermore, all the weight is in the hilt, which also makes it unwieldy by that fact alone. An untrained user has a greater chance of hurting themselves than another person. they sure as hell can’t deflect blaster shots with it without use of the Force.

Effortlessly beats Kylo. Rey has no prior training. Never held a lightsaber. Rey fighting off thieves with her quarterstaff is not the same thing, it is understandable that Kylo was struggling because of his injuries, but Rey didn’t struggle against Kylo. Even Luke struggled with Vader and Anakin struggled with Dooku. What should have happened is as it looks like Kylo is about to win, Chewie from the Falcon fires his bowcaster to keep Ren at bay and both Rey and Finn make it to the Falcon. This way we can keep Kylo Ren strong and show Rey struggling to overcome Kylo. It will also show This is how powerful he is when injured, so imagine him at his peak. Instead we get a pointless fight instead of Rey and Finn just escaping Starkiller base while Ren collapses due to injuries and Rey beating Kylo served no purpose(the end goal to destroy Starkiller Base was already accomplished) and helped derail their villain of the trilogy.

The lack of a Hero's Journey. Imagine the traditional Hero's journey but take away any growth or struggle. Just teleport to the end. That's Rey

Rey hugs Leia. Leia hugging Rey out of nowhere instead of Chewie just doesn’t work. Why is she hugging and grieving with someone she just met when Chewie is right there?

Everything TFA was building her up was instantly ignored. How Maz got the Skywalker lightsaber? Never mentioned again. How Rey was drawn to the Skywalker lightsaber and what the force vision was meant to mean? Never addressed. Rey says that she’s classified information, “none of your business” Then her parents are revealed as junk traitors who sold her for drinking money and died in Jakku. If her parents were just junkers, how did they afford that space ship if they spent the money on booze? All that build up for nothing. The force can come from anyone, we all feel it but you build Rey up only to do nothing with her.

Rey has no character arc in TLJ. Rey doesn’t learn anything and I don’t feel like she has a character arc or journey. She starts her journey in TFA and I was excited to learn where her character would go. And TLJ does nothing with Rey. I do love Rey, but I don’t feel like it truly tests Rey and forces her to grow as a character. Rey is intriguing and we care for her, but her journey feels non existent. Luke and Anakin had struggles and journeys. I just don’t feel it from Rey. While learning the truth is a struggle for Rey, she already knows. She knew her parents, it really is not that big of a reveal. I am really disappointed with how TLJ handles Rey. Rey doesn’t have any struggles. Rey is all powerful and she is the same character she is from TFA.

Rey has a connection and starts to trust Kylo Ren…when only ONE DAY passes since Kylo has tortured her, killed Han Solo, and injured Finn. Rey then seeks comfort in the same man who has done nothing but hurt her instead of Luke. There’s a difference between being “forgiving” and there’s being blindly gullible. She went from wanting to kill him to believing he’s “our last hope”….for reasons. If there were a time skip, I could understand this change of heart, but one day passes and suddenly there is a change of heart?

Rey’s stupidity in TLJ. Rey’s plan. Rey has some vision of Kylo Ren deciding to help her out and locks herself in a box to fly straight to him, with no escape plan or regard for her own safety. As bad as JJ chose to develop Rey, I will admit that Rey is adaptable. Rey makes plans and strategizes. She has been raised as a scavenger, working hard for every day of survival and fighting for every item in her possession. While Luke and Anakin throw caution to the wind in order to succeed, Rey keeps a level head and fights her way through things. TLJ acts like that version of Rey doesn’t exist.

Rey and Kylo Ren displays “raw power” in the force and doesn’t use that raw power to end the Throne Room fight against The Praetorian Guards sooner than it should have ended, instead resulting in the absolute worst fight in Star Wars history. There is no tension in the scene and it is pointless. Kylo Ren and Rey are fighting a faceless a group of guards that we know absolutely nothing about and have literally no purpose in the entire story except for this one fight. We know neither of the characters are going to die because these are just faceless red shirts and there is still like 30 to 40 minutes left of the movie. There are times where you can tell that some of the guards are just waiting their turn to fight and in one shot the editor literally digitally removed a knife from one of the guard’s hands because it would make no sense why he didn’t just stab Rey. There are multiple times where Rey, Kylo and the guards are just doing motions and actions because they look cool but serve no purpose but to look cool. Kylo stabbing the ground? Pointless. Rey twirling her rave stick around while someone falls behind her, pointless. Another annoying thing is that both of the characters are acting like they don’t have monumentally strong force powers. Hell, both of them get into a force tug of war right after the fight. Kylo can freeze people in place and stop blaster fire in mid air. Not even once do we see them displaying their powers is what cheapens the fight. Kylo Ren is powerful enough to freeze a blaster and a person in place and Rey herself unlocked Kylo’s powers, so the two of them could have easily ended the fight sooner than it was dragged out. Kylo is powerful in the force but he SERIOUSLY could not stop a Praetorian Guard choke holding him and Rey struggled with a guard? Rey and Kylo were stronger in TFA and are just made weaker in the duel with the Praetorian Guards. Kylo could have frozen half of the guards and Rey could have mind tricked the other half into killing the frozen guards and Kylo and Rey could have finished them. They are masters of light and darkness, but they are made weaker.

Rey openly trusts a murderer and a proven liar because “they touched hands” and is surprised that said lying murderer wants to kill her friends and the very cause she believed in and only used her to kill Snoke. Rey then openly believes that said lying murderer about her parents being nobodies who died on Jakku when Rey is seen visibly watching her parents fly away. Rey KNOWS who her parents are, she does not need to hear it from Kylo Ren. Here’s the thing. Rey never wanted her parents to be anyone special. Rey never thought or wanted her parents to be important in TFA, she was literally going to pass up adventure and being important to stay on Jakku because she wanted a family. She didn't want to be important, the audience wanted her to be. Rian Johnson couldn't tell the fucking difference.. Rey knew who her parents were, she did not need to hear it from Kylo Ren. She did not want or need her parents to be anyone special, she just wanted them home. Rey sure is willing to believe someone who has done nothing but lie and hurt her over and over again.

My big issue with how TLJ handles Rey, is she does not learn anything. She was awakened by Kylo’s mind melding and has his powers transferred to her, she doesn’t even earn her powers on her own, it’s all from Kylo. She has the powers of the man who's been trying to kill her and her friends, she doesn't learn anything on her own nor is it her own awakening. Your big feminist icon has to learn everything from a man that’s been harming her from day one. How empowering....please kill me. She doesn’t learn anything from Luke and she feels like the same character in The Force Awakens. We see Luke showing Rey to feel the force and the Jedi’s hubris. The third lesson was deleted, but we did not really get to see Luke train her as a Jedi. Rey doesn’t learn anything. In the end we see Rey has the sacred Jedi texts, but Yoda pointed out that those texts were holding back the Jedi and doesn’t teaches her what she doesn’t already know. SO in the end, Rey doesn’t learn anything and that’s the problem.

The lifting rocks scene. Rey lifting the big rocks like they’re pebbles without even a hint of struggling physically drives me insane in the worst way because even if she’s powerful, so was Yoda and Yoda had a problem lifting the debris to save Anakin and Obi-Wan. We see trained Jedi struggle to use the force in The Clone Wars and that was the Jedi AT THEIR PEAK. We see Ahsoka, Kanan and Ezra struggling to use the force successfully in Rebels. Luke Skywalker struggled to stack those couple of small rocks on Dagobah and couldn’t lift his X-wing out of the water either, which I think would be pretty comparable to the weight of all those boulders. I love Rey and I want her to be strong but holy shit was that just completely unbelievable to me, she wasn’t even breaking a sweat and the fact that her smiling and running to Finn didn't break her concentration and crushing anyone coming out of that cave is completely laughable. Just look at similar characters in similar situations who show struggle and what Rey should’ve looked like during the boulder scene.

Rey in TROS looks like nothing ever changed. The same type of outfit from The Force Awakens, the same Lightsaber and the same hairstyle. Like nothing ever happened or changed. Like nothing ever changed. God forbid Rey looks like a mix of a Jedi Knight and Resistance Leader, godforbid Rey builds her own lightsaber, especially a Saberstaff. It’s almost as if JJ and Lucasfilm are afraid to develop Rey as a character and let her look different at all….*sighs*

And the big problem is we are expected that Rey will learn everything off screen….that’s the problem. You cannot just have a character who can do all these amazing feats, show her not being trained as a Jedi and make her even more powerful in the final movie with no build up whatsoever. Luke had like 3 years after ESB to learn more to become a Jedi Knight. This is why there should have been time skips. Three years of training with Luke on Ach-To and they return to The Resistance. 5 years pass in between TLJ and TROS and Rey has become a Jedi master. Instead we are expected to believe Rey has learned everything in the Jedi Texts in just a year.

When we first see Rey in the movie, she is levitating with the rocks while meditating. Just...what the hell? In all 6 movies and in the clone wars. We witness Jedi meditating, but not once do we see them meditating with rocks all around them. This was basically JJ Abrams “Hey fuck you, you think Rey’s overpowered? Well too fucking bad” The first moment I saw this scene, I knew the movie was going to be complete and utter bullshit

Rey’s lack of empathy for BB-8′s injuries after dropping a tree on the droid

Rey thinks she needs to earn Anakin’s Lightsaber....despite being an overpowered demigod

Despite wielding the force, Rey uses a blaster on the Stormtroopers

Rey suddenly learns force healing after only a year? Force Healing takes a long time of learning, but Rey just knows it because the plot demands it

Instead of talking and realizing they are both being used by Palpatine, Rey constantly goes apeshit and fights Kylo Ren every chance she gets

Rey accidentally kills Chewbacca(oh but not really because JJ doesn’t wanna make Rey a morally grey character)

One fight with Zorri Bliss and they’re good.....okay, sure, fine.

Rey, Finn and Poe treat C-3PO nothing but contempt and annoyance and suddenly he “takes one last look at his friends”

Rey is now Palpatine’s granddaughter. No build up or hints, she’s suddenly NOW Palpatine’s granddaughter, you know Rey nobody worked better despite my problems with it. But no, JJ the man who literally only has a job because of his family won’t let anyone come from nothing and build themselves into being a hero, she has to be related to the literal Satan of this universe.

Rey faces her inner darkness and Dark!Rey her face looks like Pregnant Bella Swan and has shark teeth....I wish I weren’t making this bullshit up.

Despite Ben being emotionally distraught by Leia’s death, Rey uses this opportunity to kill him. But only being too late does she realize she did the wrong thing and heals him.

Rey tells Finn. “People keep telling me they know me. No one does” That’s the problem. It’s three movies, we still don’t know Rey. We don’t know her because the movies haven't taken the time to actually get us to know anything substantial about her. By movie three of both the OT and the PT, we already knew the major conflicts/obstacles and dilemmas that drove both Anakin and Luke to take the respective paths they were currently walking. By the third movie in the sequel trilogy I still don’t know what Rey’s motivations are, why she has stake in anything or why Rey is a nice person when she grew up on a planet like Jakku. We still know nothing about Rey and that’s a problem

Rey constantly treats her friends as afterthoughts and extra baggage

Rey attempts to go to Ach-To to exile herself and suddenly Luke appears. This movie attempts to paint the picture that Luke and Rey had this great relationship. She even calls him “Master Skywalker” Rey and Luke did not have a good relationship. They barely even fucking train for like 3 days. She slices a rock in half, looks at some books, then argues with Luke and runs away. Even in a deleted scene, their third lesson. Rey shows nothing but disgust in Luke. But now they are a loving master and padawan? SINCE FUCKING WHEN???????

Luke lifts Luke’s old X-Wing because nostalgia and Mark’s fuck you to Rian. And Rey flies it because JJ desperately wants Rey to be the female Luke Skywalker

Rey is able to destroy the Emperor. Palpatine has the ability to destroy ENTIRE SPACE FLEETS WITH FORCE LIGHTNING and somehow Rey is able to send it back to him and destroy him. “I am all the Jedi” bullfuckingshit

“I’m Rey...Rey Skywalker” Rey didn’t need to be a Palpatine or take the Skywalker name. This isn’t me hating on Rey. Rey can be a great character by standing on her own. Rey being related to NO ONE was powerful and shows us that even someone who came from Jakku can be a powerful Jedi. She doesn’t earn anything on her own. She downloaded all of Kylo’s abilities. She took the Falcon, she made Chewbacca her personal uber, she took BB-8 from Poe and buried Anakin and Leia’s lightsaber on the literal symbolic oppression of the Skywalker family instead of something peaceful like Naboo or Ach-To. She has her own Lightsaber, but never uses it. Rey being a Palpatine and taking the Skywalker name undoes the beautiful story the revelation TLJ had does. She didn’t need to be a Palpatine and she didn’t need to take the Skywalker name or even their relics. Rey Nobody works. Here’s why. Rey’s story is her own, it is not her parents, it is not about where she came from, it’s about where she is going, and who she decides to become. Maz Kanata said “The belonging you seek is not behind you. It is in front of you.” Rey in the TFA trailers said “I’m no one” Rey never thought or wanted her parents to be important in TFA, she was literally going to pass up adventure and being important to stay on Jakku because what she wanted was her family to finally come home. She didn't want to be important or wanted her parents to be important. The audience wanted that. Any more lingering discussion of the possibility of Rey’s parents being ‘somebody’ only is distracting you from the actually beautiful story that is being told. Rey is a story of a girl who raised herself, who held onto hope for people who didn’t deserve it, she is a story of how light can be born from darkness, and Rey is story of someone who was scared of her own truth—but then finally faced it. Rey being a Nobody is the story I was skeptical of at first, but grew to love, the story that gives me more hope than any Rey Skywalker or Rey Solo story ever would. Rey calling herself "Rey Skywalker" was so forced and unnecessary because all the whiny pissants did not like that a girl was skilled and powerful in her own right and because Rey did not have a good relationship with Luke in the first place. JJ was so set in just making Rey a Luke clone that it just undoes character development. If Rey had to take a name, Solo or Organa would make the most sense since she actually had a relationship with Han, Leia and Ben. Say what you want about how RIan Johnson handled Rey in TLJ. At least he treated Rey like her own person, with her own journey, and her own desires and fears, rather than consigning her to be a vessel for OT nostalgia. And at least he allowed her to actually have a new outfit and new hair style. At least he let her change. Like him or not, Rian Johnson treated Rey with more respect and identity than JJ Abrams ever did. It means more than making her related to anyone because Rey was every lonely girl who wanted to be a part of something but didn't feel like they belonged. Every woman who learned to make her way in the world alone. Every person who clung to hope when they had nothing left. She is so many things to so many people. Rey Nobody can be fierce, angry and powerful without it connecting to a man or evil bloodline. She can love, be curious and emotional without being weak. She is a scavenger, a Jedi, and one half of a powerful Dyad. She is Rey of Jakku and that's all we needed. Rey calling herself a Skywalker denied her every last inch of who she was. Her character arc was ruined to please men that thought her power needed to be connected to a man for it to make sense. All we needed her arc to be was Rey accepting that she needs to be her own hero and loving herself for who she is, rather than who she wanted her hypothetical parents to be. And honestly Rey in TROS was a huge disappointment. Her entire character arc was regressed, she's back to wearing the buns and dressed all in white and sticks to the glorification of the Jedi. It's like everything she learned in the last movie never happened. And honestly her character in TROS is what men think a "strong female character" is She fights, but they don’t have to deal with her processing internal pain. She loves, but they don’t have to deal with her fully exploring her desires. She’s a “badass,” & for them that is enough. When I say "A Palpatine is left and steals the legacy of the Skywalkers" I am not suggesting she doesn't deserve the title. I am saying that essentially, Palpatine won. Anakin, Padme, Luke, Han, Leia and Ben are all dead. Leia died for nothing. Leia deserved to see her son come home, and to see the end of the monster who ruined her family. She didn’t deserve to feel her child die. The entire line of the family is now extinct. The wiki even says "the extinction of the family name" what kind of depressing garbage is this? JJ Abrams ended the entire Skywalker saga on Palpatine successfully using love to manipulate, corrupt, hurt or kill every single Skywalker across three generations, ultimately resulting in the total eradication of the Skywalker, Solo and Amidala bloodlines, whilst Palpatine's heir lives on and claims the Skywalker name and legacy. Rey calling herself "Rey Skywalker" was patronizing and insulting and demeans what Rey's journey meant in the first two movies to everyone who loved her. Rey coming from Jakku and nothing but rising up as a heroic Jedi means more than "you have his power...you are a Palpatine" or "Rey Rey Skywalker" ever will. Women Of The Galaxy author Amy Ratcliffe says it best. “Even beyond the trappings of the Star Wars saga — the First Order, the Resistance, the Force — Rey’s story is inspiring, familiar, and timeless. Just because you come from nothing doesn’t mean you’re not part of the story. You’re not no one, because anybody can save the galaxy. Anybody.“

Compare Rey and Luke’s journeys in ANH and TFA. Rey wanders around and stuff is handed to her. Luke takes initiative and works for what he has. Let's compare ANH with TFA

Luke screws up on watching R2, then chooses to chase him down. He makes another mistake by spying on the Tusken Raiders instead of getting the hell out of dodge. This leads to him being knocked out, and rescued by Ben Kenobi.

Luke initiates the meeting with Ben Kenobi, and it happens because of his early bad decisions.

His aunt & uncle are killed, but thanks to his screw-up with R2 & the raiders, he and the droids are spared.

He chooses to follow Kenobi to Alderaan instead of staying on Tattooine.

He chooses to accept Kenobi's instruction in the ways of the Force, even though most people think it's a myth and a joke. Even though he's bad at it and doesn't seem to get any results at first.

He makes the decision that they're going to rescue Leia, potentially dooming their escape from the Death Star. This sets off a chain of events that leads to Kenobi's death.

Then he chooses to help fight the Death Star, even though he's not a member of the rebellion. He was offered a job with Han, and he could have ensured his safety by leaving with them. Instead he chose certain death.

Finally, he chooses to trust a literal voice in his head instead of the targeting computer.

Let's contrast that with Rey.

BB-8 runs into her. She tries to send him away, but relents and lets him follow her home.

She chooses not to sell him for food.

Finn wanders into camp on his own initiative.

The camp is attacked because BB-8 is there. The camp would have been attacked no matter what Rey did. The other scavenger was, I'm pretty sure, from the same camp. And if she'd sold him, BB-8 would also have still been in the camp.

She is forced to take the Millennium Falcon when the ship she wanted to use was blown up.

She chooses to go with Finn and bring BB-8 to the Rebellion Resistance.

She stumbles upon Luke's lightsaber, and runs away from it.

She accidentally runs into Kylo Ren while hiding in the forest.

He chooses to kidnap her because he senses something special about her.

After her first exposure to the Force, she learns how to use some of it, successfully, and escapes from Ren. And to her credit, escaping and trying the Force out is a choice she made, rather than something that passively happened to her.

Then she, um, is standing there when Han is killed.

She chooses to fight Kylo Ren, and beats him in her first lightsaber battle after closing her eyes and thinking about the Force.

She sort of chooses to go summon Luke back to civilization - I say sort of because it's not clear why she was picked to go over, say, Leia.

Luke makes mistakes, and he is an active participant in his story. Rey is just kind of there, most of the time. She doesn't make mistakes, but she doesn't really do much else.

Here is a thought, what are Rey’s motivations?

Rey wants to find her parents.

Rey wants to do the right thing.

Wants to bring back Luke Skywalker

Rey wants to find her place

She wants to suck Ben’s tiddies. Wants Ben to return to the light, home and to call off the fleet

Has no real motivation to be on either side of the conflict, but chooses The Resistance anyway

Says she wants to kill Palpatine in cold blood, was close to giving in

What are Anakin's motivations?

Wants to leave a life of slavery and come back and free his mother

Wants to become a Jedi and become a hero

Wants to protect Padme

Wants to save Obi-Wan

Wants to stop Dooku and end the war before it can begin

Wants to be a good master to Ahsoka

Wants to clear Ahsoka’s name

Wants to stop the war

Wants to save Padme and his children's lives at the cost of the Jedi and doing whatever it takes and becomes Darth Vader

What are Luke’s motivations?

Luke is a farm boy who dreams of leaving his mundane life.

Luke discovers that his father -unlike what his uncle told him, was a heroic Jedi Knight

Luke, is reluctant and refuses the ‘call to adventure’, but after the Empire murders his Aunt and Uncle, he decides to Join Obi-Wan on the quest.

Save the Princess

Luke is angered by Obi-Wan’s death at the hands of Darth Vader, and seeks retribution.

Destroy the Death Star and save the Rebellion

To be trained by Yoda

Save Han and Leia

Luke discovers his father, the heroic Jedi, is none other than Darth Vader. After years of training, he sets out to redeem his father and turn him back to the light.

Rey has no personal stake in this war or motivations and she’s supposed to be the main protagonist.

Rey has never left Jakku before TFA and she tells Han that ”she never knew so much green existed” when they go to Maz’s castle.

In other words Rey must have had very limited knowledge of the world outside of Jakku and all she has heard from it are stories.

Rey who barely knows anything about the rest of the galaxy, to the point that she didn’t even know that forests existed what exactly is her personal stake in the current galactic conflict?

In TFA we saw The New Republic’s capital systems blown up by Starkiller Base and we never saw a reaction from Rey. We do see Finn and Han’s reactions. Also worth noting about Rey is that if she was unconscious throughout her involuntary travel to the Starkiller Base she was never actually aware of the Starkiller Base until just before Han, Finn and Chewie started planting the explosions in order to sabotage it.

Luke while he had no personal attachments to Aldeeran did actually get to see the horrible aftermaths of it’s destruction.

But Rey was barely affected by the destruction of the Capital systems. Most characters were not as affected as they should have been in my opinion but we didn’t even get to see her have an emotional reaction to it.

This was probably the greatest genocide in Star Wars history and our main hero is unaffected by it? Finn has a reaction to it and he’s supposedly NOT the main protagonist?

Rey really has no reason to care about the state of the galaxy. She only seems to care if people she knows are in danger.

The fact that she is supposed to be our main hero of this trilogy when she has next to no personal stakes in the well-being of the rest of the galaxy feels wrong to me.

Finn actually has stakes in this conflict since the FO took his family and childhood away from him and Poe has stakes because he actually lives in the New Republic and doesn’t want it to be under FO’s rule. Yet neither Finn nor Poe are considered the main protagonist? But oh wait, I forgot we can’t have a black or Latino man be the leading protagonist in Star Wars

The big issue I have with Rey as a character is she is a boring, lazily written character with a complete lack of development, barely any motivations and not a believable protagonist.

Rey is not allowed to have flaws or personal struggles or has a real hero’s journey. Which is disappointing because I truly loved having Star Wars be centered around a female lead and feel like it’s a missed opportunity. It’s not Daisy’s fault, I feel like the blame lies with Disney. I’m not sure if Disney got cold feet with a female protagonist and felt they would get backlash if they made her character naturally flawed but it’s storytelling 101 to have your protagonist faced with problems that aren’t easy to overcome and correlate to said flaws. Instead we got a hero who faces no real consequences, has no real goals, and can defeat everything in her path with abysmal training. Which ultimately makes for an extremely uninteresting hero. No hard training, no real consequences, no real flaws, no struggles or not even an arc and everything is handed to her. It just makes Episode IX predictable and boring. There is just not a reason to care to see what will happen with Rey. Finn and Poe are what’s keeping this trilogy alive, Finn had the most development in TFA, but someone decided "We can't have Finn be the protagonist of this trilogy", so they sabotaged his character the moment Finn uttered the word "sanitation" and reduced him to the black comic relief in the next movie. Poe is the one person with the most development and shows heroism in TLJ and someone decided "we can't have Poe be the hero of the trilogy" and proceeded to demonize and belittle Poe throughout the entire movie. The point is Finn and Poe had the most potential and their potential was squandered to prop up Rey as the protagonist of the trilogy when no one has a reason to root for Rey. Disney just failed Rey as a character.

#Anti Rey #Anti TFA #Anti JJ Abrams #Anti TLJ #Anti Rian Johnson #Star Wars #Rey

80 notes · View notes

seungwoomi-blog · 5 years ago

Text

hewwwwo. if ur wondering why u might have already been following me it’s bc i was here for a hot minute b4 real life absorbed my soul. ANYWAY this is seungwoo! he’s a 24 y/o med student, intern @ myeongcho hospital, and a medic in phoenix.

click here for more info! and peek below the cut for a (sort of tl;dr) summary. otherwise, plz like this post if u want to plot and i’ll come zoomin to ur ims :’) thx buds!

background

born and raised in myeongcho !!!! where my party ppl AT !!!! his family’s always been on the poorer side and getting them out of poverty and into a life of comfort has been his motivation and end goal for as long as he can remember. seungwoo has been devoted 2 being diligent abt his studies and making sure 2 be a good kid so people respect his parents since youth :’) he just rly loves his family it hurts

just works really grossly hard (read: OVERworks) because he’s stuck in this dog eat dog world mentality... genuinely thinks he has to carry the world on his shoulders if he wants to save his family from bearing the blunt of the blow.

yea he just wants his family to be good

sacrifices his dream of becoming a photographer !!!!! to focus his efforts on med school from a Very young age.

joins a gang (phoenix) when he’s eighteen out of desperation bc his parents need money and he isn’t sure how else to get it quick bc his convenience store gig isn’t cutting it. does a smattering of very low-key, behind the scenes jobs; spends a lot of time shadowing the (then) medics. he doesn’t hate it, tbh? he’s ok with it, but he goes into phoenix with the mindset that This is Not Forever and as soon as the money’s there... he’s gonna dip.

takes a lil longer !!!! than anticipated ! it’s almost four years later that he finally, finally builds up the resolve to quit when ( tw kidnapping ) he finds out his little brother’s gone missing. this is rly hard on him bc he adores his little brother and beats himself up for not being able to protect him/be as present as he’d like to have been. finds out that there’s a high likelihood that said lil bro might have been kidnapped by a local gang, so seungwoo (begrudgingly) stays in phoenix because he thinks it’ll be easier to find his bro when he has the “connections.” ( end tw )

in 2017, when seungwoo decides to stick with phoenix for those personal reasons, he also starts med school and officially becomes a medic for phoenix.

he’s v good at keeping his gang life separate and distinct from his “real” life. he doesn’t have any interest in blurring the lines, and is v explicit about keeping what he does in the shadows a secret—mostly bc he doesn’t want to make life any harder for his parents.

currently: still in med school, still in phoenix, really just an exhausted sack of bones that wants to find his brother and live a comfortable life.

personality

some powerful big bro energy... he will dote on u... he will tease u...... he loves taking care of ppl............ disgosting

ok but fr? he’s very ambitious and very diligent and sometimes (oftentimes) one-track-minded, but he’s a good guy. has a good head on his shoulders. he just has very distinct priorities and it’ll take a lot to sway him from what he thinks is the right path.

not the sociable type—doesnt mind meeting new ppl at all! but he’s not the type to approach new ppl. friends are cool but he hates small talk and hates wasting time.

no he will not talk to u about his problems he doesnt even want to THINK about his problems (jk he does want to think abt them, and he will. he will overthink them 2 death.) (but no he fr does not want to talk to u about them.)

rly good at detaching himself from his surroundings. very good at compartmentalizing things. VERY good at separating gang life from “who he actually is” (haha sike u fake and we been knew). it’s why the violence and shit doesn’t rly bother him as much as he wishes it would—bc he’s good at puttin his heart on the back-burner when it gets too meddlesome.

haha can anyone say gray morality

has a rly strong survival instinct but it’s kind of hard bc he has to reconcile it with this self-sacrificing martyr syndrome he has where he does not value his life as much as his parents’ or his brother’s but he Does value it to the extent that he obvi needs 2 be alive to help them.

omg ok emo stuff and the harrowing issue of not wanting to talk to anyone abt the important stuff ever, he is GOOD KID.

has a soft spot for ppl who need to be taken care of. having a fship w/ seungwoo is easygoing and low-pressure he just wants to tease u and make u hold his hand Zz

IN CONCLUSION, HE’S GOT SOME ISSUES !!!!! but he’s friendly and harmless for the most pt and really is just like an exhausted grandpa who is almost always on the verge of caffeine od.

wanted connections

check out some basic ones i whipped up here! otherwise, he’s flexible :’)

#had this drafted since a week ago (big rip) so hopefully it's coherent bc im just goin for it #ooc

10 notes · View notes

writingwitchly · 6 years ago

Text

I’m gonna do it, anyway

Hey could I please ask for a Sirius black x Slytherin female reader fanfic based of the song Rude by Magic! References from the music video too could be added if possible? ~ @arianna-17-11

Pairing: Sirius Black x fem!reader

Word count: 2,2k

A/N: Phew… My first reader insert since… ever? I think I sticked to the request right enough XD, just skipped the Slytherin specification. Hope you’ll like it. PS: I need a Sirius in my life RN.

The clock shows 9:23. The night only displays darkness.

You curse.

It’s quite usual for members of the Order to- ‘get lost’, in these times, with nothing to be done to find them.

The vegetables and white plastic planch on the kitchen counter suffer your aggressive stress.

It’s been two days and… and you haven’t heard of him…

A noise reaches you from the outside. Was it a crack? Your shoulders tense.

You’ve heard several of them, this weekend. Or at least, imagined you had. Every time you got to the window, there was nobody in the street below, apart from a couple of cats or a strolling brownish dog.

You don’t dare to check now, fearing that another desillusion might break your heart for good.

What if-

The thought makes you shiver, and the knife almost escapes your grip. You lay it down, next to the halfway chopped onion. It would be stupid to wound yourself without needing an enemy for that.

The beating of your heart climbs up to your ears. If at least he’d told you where he was going… None of the boys knows, either.

If he ever comes back alive from this, you’ll sure as heck won’t let him breathe until he draws a calendar and fills it whenever he plans on disappearing.

“Y/N!”

The voice carries its amusement through the whole flat, and makes your heart jump to your throat.

It takes you a good second realize who just closed the door.

For a good hour, you were thinking that-

For Merlin’s sake.

What kind of boyfriend disappears without leaving any trace, making you suffer the worst anguish for two days, to come back and greet you as if nothing had happened?

That’s right, a boyfriend about to be told off.

You storm out of the kitchen. “Sirius Orion Black!”

If James had been here, he’d ran for cover.

But Sirius is waiting for you, his arms wide open, at the entrance of the apartment. His leather jacket does not bear any trace of battle, except the one it fought against the wind on the drive home. His boots are firmly planted on the floor.

You stop when you are barely centimeters away from his body, and hit his chest with your fist at each word you articulate. “How. Do. You. Dare. To. Fr-”

Without waiting for you to finish the reprimand, he wraps you in a tight embrace.

You burst into tears. “I- I- I was so afraid. Wh- Where- Why did you leave with- without telling me-”

One of his thumbs draws circles on your back, his other hand is lost in your hair. He murmurs some words, but so low you barely hear them. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat calms you down.

When your hiccups have considerably diminished in intensity, Sirius makes you look up at him.

“I’m safe and sound, love. Look, no new scars.”

You count the marks on his face, on the bluish skin that hints a new beard, and are quite reassured to find none you haven’t already mended. “Your arms? Your back?”

“As sane as ever, Y/N. I promise.”

Finally, you allow yourself to sigh in relief, until you remember about your anger.

“How many times,” you blurt, “Have I asked you to- Why are you smiling like an idiot? I’m being very serious!”

His wide grin stretches the blemish on his lips. Even if it has suffered attacks and injuries, his smile hasn’t lost its appeal.

Sirius shakes his head a little, as to dissipate some fog around him. His eyes then root in yours. “You’re just so fucking gorgeous.”

You trail a finger along the rough skin that borders his grin, slumping your shoulders in a sweet defeat. “Why don’t you ever let me be angry at you, uh?” You smile faintly. “I was so worried.”

The man leaves a tender kiss on your forehead, from which a burning sensation invades your cheeks. Then, he inhales deeply. “Were you- Were you cooking?”

He accompanies his questions with a playful grimace.

Vexed, you punch his shoulder. “What does that tone mean, Black?”

He snorts. “Nothing, darling. Just that- It’s very unusual. Do you only cook when I’m not around?”

“I had to release the stress. So yes, I only cook when you’re not around. Talking of which, I should probably put the pasta on.”

And you disappear in the kitchen, a bit bitter.

A furious ripping sound announces the opening of the food box, and Sirius grins again. He loves it, when you get angry. It makes you look cute.

A few minutes later, he joins you, his hair dripping water all over the floor. He abandoned his leather jacket for a crepe t-shirt.

“It’s ready in two minutes,” you claim, stirring a the red sauce. “You can set the table.”

Sirius moves toward the cupboard, but then seems to think about it. His eyes follow the spoon with which you’re tasting the flavoring. He crosses his arms, and leans against the counter.

“I went to talk to your father.”

You choke on the pasta’s sauce, and have to spit it out in the sink to avoid asphyxion. Your eyes seem to double in size as you turn to look at your boyfriend. “You did what?”

With a sideway smirk, he simply states, “That was disgusting, darling.”

You could eat the napkin instead of using it to whip your lips. “You did what now, Sirius?”

The man’s arms fall to his sides, but he doesn’t lose his amused expression. As if he wanted to avoid crossing your stare, he bends down, and grabs the plates to set the table.

“I had to ask him something,” he finally explains, as the porcelain hits the fabric of the table cloth.

“Something to ask him!” You repeat, in a strangled voice. “You know it was a stupid thing to do.” You spin the wooden spoon in little circles, pointing at him, still shocked. “This- I would have preferred a hundred times if you’d faced an Order mission.”

“Oh, come on, darling,” he says nonchalantly, as if you were talking about what kind of spice to add to the condiment. “Your father doesn’t hate me that much.”

Your raised eyebrows are the answer he didn’t even need to confirm that yes, your father does hate him that much.

A pause installs itself, troubled only by the boiling liquids on the stove.

Sirius is the reckless boy who betrayed his family, the crazy guy who joined a pack of weirdos with a very unfavorable reputation outside their group of friends, the mischievous teen who got involved in a war without knowing how to fight properly, the irresponsible man who decided to live an unstable life, and the unforgivable idiot who took his only daughter away from home. Add to this that he’s a Black, son of Death Eaters, and has long hair, and he’s the perfect hate aim for your father.

A bubble explodes in one of the pans, and you turn the fire down.

You finally start to digest the news. “And- We couldn’t have- owled him?”

Sirius shrugs, dropping the cutlery next to the plates.

“It was hard to make him listen to me in person. I s’pose he would have thrown the letter away without even opening it.”

You nod, as if it was a reasonable argument, but don’t really consider it. “And- What was so important as to take you two days of discussion with my father?”

His smirk does not foreshadow anything good. “It didn’t take me two days. The first day I- I had to do something else.”

You were about to ask what, but you don’t want him to get an occasion to flee the topic. “So what did you talk about?”

“You’re like him, you know. Very stubborn.”

Merlin, he irritates you. “Will you just tell me?”

In response, Sirius grabs you by the hips and pulls you toward him. He drags a chair, and sits you on it.

“Fine,” he says, smiling like a child. “I will tell you.” He kneels on the floor, like he does every time he needs to tell you something important, so you have to look down at him. “I had an idea on Friday. I mean, I have been thinking about this for a long time, but on Friday it became- really clear.”

You nod, wondering what in the world can make him so serious.

“And it was- Important to tell your father about it. So on Sunday, I knock-”

“On Sunday, because you had to do something on Saturday,” you say, a mocking perplexity influencing your expression. If you weren’t so worried about the outcome of the declaration, you’d probably find the situation comical.

Sirius nods. “I love you because you’re clever, too,” he teases. “I- had to buy something on Saturday. So I knocked, and Godric, you should have seen his face when he opened the door.”

A hint of amusement lights his eyes up, and you can indeed imagine your father opening the door to one of the people he’d most want to forget in his life.

“Did he close it back immediately?”

“Well, yeah.” His embarrassed grin makes you tilt your head back in laughter. “But I knocked again, like- a thousand times, because Moony told me to do s-”

“Wait a second!” You hold your palm up. “Remus was there with you?”

Sirius’s face contracts in a I-shouldn’t-have-said-that mask, a perfect copy of Hagrid’s.

“And- The other boys too?”

Your boyfriend opens his mouth to answer, but no words come out of it.

“I worried like crazy, and their letters said they didn’t know where you were, but never mind it,” you say, creasing your brow, in a tone which clearly communicates to actually mind it. Sirius caresses your arm in apologize. “Go ahead.”

Mental note of calling them all, one by one, after that.

Sheepishly, he continues. “Your father ended up listening, after all, and he was rud- not too thrilled about it. He first told me to- go count the daisies in the prairies, or something like that. He may have thought it was all a joke. But then, he saw my serious face and he just blurted that ‘no, never’. And he told me to disappear forever from his life and from yours.”

You know your father doesn’t like him at all, but you didn’t think it was to this level.

“What the heck, Sirius? What-”

But your boyfriend is unstoppable in his speech, “I said that this was going to be difficult, that we’re madly in love, and we’d go anywhere together.” To your dark look, he corrects himself, “I mean, apart from those last two days, but that was an exception. He said that his answer was no, and would always be the same. So I said that I would do it anyway, and he told me to-”

“Sirius!” You call him back to the present. “You’re not making much sense. I don’t think I can understand unless you tell me what you talked about.”

The man closes his eyes, and nods. “Sorry… Just- just the stress, probably.”

You realize that the topic must be really important. Why would he be avoiding it so much, if not?

An army of little soldiers start marching in your stomach.

“Stress?”

He smiles, “Remember that time when you were having a family dinner and your father invited a- special guest?”

You roll your eyes, “They wanted to set me up with Avery. Too bad I was already in love with you.” You grin too, pushing one of his loose dark curls behind his ear. “But what’s the-”

“I came to your rescue, with the boys. And we brought you to the park.”

Flashes of that night dance before your eyes. The music floated between the trees, Remus shot sparkles into the air, Peter and Kingsley sang an old lullaby, completely out of tune, and Frank and Alice flirted heavily as you cried at them to get a room.

It’s one of the best moments you’ve ever lived. Lily and James’ bubbly laughter, your flower crown, Sirius’ warm lips on yours...

“What did you tell me, that night, darling?”

There is no need to dig too deep in your memories to remember. “I said you’re the man I want to live with for the rest of my life,” you whisper. The soldiers in your stomach light up a million fireworks. ��Are you-”

A loud bang cuts you off, followed by loud conversation, cheers, and whistles. You both raise up, and turn toward the door of the kitchen. There’s some worry on your traits.

A second later, Marlene’s face peeps out from behind the wall. “What did she say?”

The sweet smell of the forgotten pasta sauce makes you dizzy. As all of your friends gather before your eyes, your hand looks for your boyfriend’s presence behind you to steady yourself.

When you finally get a grip on his shoulder, you slowly turn around, “Sirius-”

But Sirius silences your question with a soft kiss, while he closes your fist over something small and cold. Something circular.

Then he kneels down again.

Permanent tag list: @miss-nerd0905 @funnymrspotter @obsessionsandothersandmore @daytodayfun @electraheart-isdead @laurenslines @rochelle-the-ravenclaw @wildfire-whizbangs @beaubcxton @reggieblck

Sirius tag list: @glitteryfreakslimeegg @janhvi11

#sirius black #sirius black imagine #sirius imagine #sirius x reader #hp imagine #sirius black x reader #reader insert #this feels like… idek what… it had been so long #***writingr

190 notes · View notes

diningpageantry · 6 years ago

Text

Sharing

Archive Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17343617/chapters/41375339

Chapter 7/11 of Of Wealth and Leisure

Word Count: 3502

Summary: A shared moment of intimacy is granted to Mr. Pitch and Sir Snow through Mr. Pitch's recovery period.

Doctor Wellbelove and Agatha take an afternoon railway back home the next day.

I wave them off, promising Agatha I’ll write to her and Penelope before winter falls. The rain from days ago starts up again, leaving puddles for their carriage to splash into as the sound of clomping hooves clashing with water. Under the shelter of the overhang, I watch as they slowly trail off until all that remains of them is the road they’d taken, waving around trees and the deep greens of late summer.

Before making my way back inside and inevitably back to Mr. Pitch’s room, I draw in a deep breath and exhale slowly through my nose, contemplating my emotions briefly. There’s a mild temptation trying to tug me towards Ebb’s house in hopes of unloading my mind, but I don’t feel like getting wet would be beneficial to me overall. Catching my death doesn’t sound appealing.

Therefore, I dismiss the idea and step back into the comfort of the manor. I make my way around, collecting lunch and a few books for Mr. Pitch and I before walking up and knocking lightly at his bedroom door. A soft, sleepy rumble of “Come in” beckons me inside.

Lying amongst extra blankets with his leg propped up in the air, I find Mr. Pitch comfortably rising from his nap while still fully dressed in the night clothes he’d fallen asleep in evening before. His lips pull when he sees me, leading me to believe that he is still a bit loopy on the drugs Doctor Wellbelove had left for him to ease the pain.

“Ah, you’ve brought me lunch,” he hums, nose wrinkling right at his too-high bridge. “Come come, sit with me.”

There’s an odd appeal about Mr. Pitch being medicated; he’s more carefree. The absolute gentlest state I’ve seen this man in has been this past morning as he got portioned out small bits of opium. It calms his nerves and softens his edges, making him smile up at me like I’m the most important man in the world.

Is it an abuse of situational luck? I wouldn’t say so, given I’m not throwing myself at him like a dog in heat. Instead, I’m taming my growing knowledge of my platonic warmth towards him as I force myself into somewhat of an exposure therapy. The more I’m around him, the more my interest in him calms when we interact.

At moments like these, when he’s not trying to nip at my throat, I can settle in my skin beside him and read aloud or entertain him with a game of checkers. It’s not difficult to get him to interact, and frankly that’s the richest gift of all.

As I go to sit in the chair at the bedside, I feel the peculiar sensation of being touched. With the raising of my eyes, I peer over to see that I am being touched, or rather my sleeve is being tugged, by Mr. Pitch.

I look up at him, noticing that he’s staring at me quizzically as I hover over the seat of the chair. Before I can sneak in a word of confusion, he slips his own demand past me. “I had meant for you to sit on the bed.”

Flabbergasted, I glance between him and the open sheet of empty bed beside him. Surely, I shouldn’t be allowed to join him. “You must be joking. Are you?”

“Snow, am I one to crack such jokes?” he raises his brows, an intoxicated smile still sparkling on his face. Given by his expression, I shouldn’t take his offer and risk an inappropriate closeness, but it’s oh-so irresistible.

There’s a sinking conclusion that I must be absolutely out of my mind, for I’m sliding off my jacket and shoes and settling them atop the chair’s seat before climbing in beside him.

He must be somewhat mental, because there’s an unmistakable hum pouring from his throat whilst he watches me lounge out. In the silence of the moment, his head rolls to the side that faces me as his hands pick apart his bread into bite sized pieces. “What did you bring to read to me today?” he asks, eyeing up the small stack of books I’d carried in my arms.

I scan over the pile, listing off the titles before settling back down and studying his movements. Even in his drugged state, he concentrates just enough to gather pieces of bread, meat, and cheese from his platter and eat them one by one. It’s a childish system, but I decide against ridiculing at this time. That’s something best left for a sober mocking.

He tells me to read the poetry, attention turned towards his hands as I reach for the book. Yet, upon my return to an upright beside him, I feel the brush of a forehead settling on my shoulder. He stays, maintaining shut eyes and a slowly chewing jaw.

I freeze, breath clogged back in my throat as he simply relaxes further into me. I’m only pushed back into reality when he mutters out a quiet string of words. “Why aren’t you reading?”

Why aren’t I reading?

The cover glides in my hands, falling open to the first pages as I clear my throat and begin to read. My voice doesn’t raise beyond our private bubble of space, canopied by his bed and encased between the blanket on top of us. Within an hour, he’s back asleep, somewhat pressed up to me as he snores like an animal.

It’s quite funny, truly. Such an elegant man, but when under a mild sedative, he’s a child again.

Given my brief moment of freedom from Mr. Pitch's every whim, I make the active decision to trade out the poetry for a novel to read until he rises. It isn't until hours later and just past tea time that I feel the shift of his waking body.

His head lifts from the drool pile he’d left settled onto my shoulder, groaning in a mixture of disgust and pain. I’d assume this means his drugs wore thin, leaving him back to his original state. Despite this, he doesn’t rush to kick me out from his close-company. Instead, he draws himself upright and peers over me as he typically would and clears his throat. “Water,” he demands, voice cracking and crumbling from sleep and little use.

I immediately nod, turning to the small pitcher kept beside his bed and pouring it into a glass cup. He nods as a “thank you”, taking the water and tossing it back eagerly. A little dribbling down his chin and onto his shirt as he gulps and exhales, handing it back. He doesn't say word until after the exchange is over, but I hadn’t been anticipating one either. Not that I'd want a genuine moment of thankfulness from him.

“How long have I been out?” he grumbles his typical, bitter comment as his eyes cast down in disdain for his outfit. Still untouched as the same clothes he's worn since last night.

Out of impulse, I shrug as I keep watch over him. “A few hours.” My voice is purely one of gentle kindness, something of which I doubt he fully deserves. Curse me and my hidden intentions of normalcy.

It draws his attention, eyes raking over me judgmentally before his attention drifts away without the anticipated snarky remark. Instead, he settles back into his seat and analyzes me, making me feel like I’m an uncovered crime scene or a fine piece of art. He always seems to make me feel so distant and untouchable.

It’s a long while that we sit like this, him looking at me and me staring back as if I’m a caged animal watching its new owner. It’s unnerving, knowing that he could open me with just a gentle crack to my head. Out will spill my secrets, coating us like an extra blanket on his gothic bed.

“Tell me, Snow,” he says at last, skull resting back against the headboard and settling there comfortably amongst the carved gargoyles and licking, wooden flames. His hair sticks out at all angles, left untouched after his slumber. It's endearing. “Why is it that nobody knows your story?”

“Pardon?” My head draws back, eyes narrowing as I stare.

He shrugs in such a graceful way. It’s absolutely unfair. His shoulders drag up, pulling towards his jaw before slacking elegantly back at his sides. “You heard me quite clearly, Snow. I’m curious about you--everybody who’s anybody is curious about you.”

There’s nothing anybody needs to know about me. “What do you want to know?” I crumble, fingertips dragging along the edge of the book’s spine as he keeps his eyes locked on me. It sends chills up my spine and makes me want to tell him everything there is to my history. The nunnery, Lord David’s calling upon me. The lies and the unsaid truths of my nature. All the morbid stories everyone seeks, yet nobody's graced to hear.

“Where did you come from? Why do you eat so quickly?” his voice grows soft and gentle. A feather over a piano key, trying to tempt a note from me.

I should, theoretically, toss myself out the closest window. It’d be much more beneficial, and will most likely result in a positive outcome as opposed to what Mr. Pitch wishes to elicit from me. The cruelest part of all is that I tell him. I’m too weak as to not to. Listening to the honey-sweetness of his voice makes me want to give him the world.

“I was orphaned,” I breathe, unable to raise my voice higher. “Left for dead, wrapped in a blanket and set in a basket on the streets with only a slip of paper holding my name. The nunnery took me in and raised me until I was nearly five, then Lord David went to fetch for me. Nobody ever told me why he picked me in particular, but it was me he wanted . Up until that point in my life, I was constantly starved...”

“Is that all?”

I shake my head, eyes downcasted as I squirm. He doesn’t even have to touch me to make me experience the weight of being smothered. Perhaps it’s the room, although it’s more than likely the truth that’s strangling me. “No,” I utter, “Lord David never kept me well when I was younger. There was long nights of lessons with few and far meals between. He raised me telling me I would provide a great fighter, in case the wealth was challenged. I was always told to never tell a soul where I’m from, either. It always made me feel like I was in trouble; like it was my fault.”

“Why was that?” It feels as though Mr. Pitch is the spy, coaxing answers from me. Now, I’m noticing he’s drawn closer, sitting in nearly breathing distance.

“Because I choose to follow what he says. He says someone may have to defend the name once he’s at proper power, and that he’ll be to weak to do it once the time is right. Therefore, he needs me to carry the illusion that I’m meant for this. That I'm not hidden swine. That I'm meant to be here…” I feel a hand on mine, and I flinch before registering that it’s Mr Pitch’s. He goes to pull it back, but I close mine around his, risking a glance into his eyes. “Don’t tell anybody--I beg of you. It could destroy me and make me more ostracized than I already am. Everyone believes I’m much like the other followers of Lord David, coming from wealthy families that left them to train and grow stronger. If… it they know I’m not…”

His hand squeezes mine, making me exhale and stare at him in utter panic as his other hand raises to rest upon my cheek. As if it’d make it better.

It doesn’t.

“I’ll never tell a soul,” he says gently. “You have my word.”

The constricting walls start disappearing entirely, my focus closing in on Mr. Pitch and his all-consuming presence. It’s as if he’s enveloping me, taking over the room around us and just existing as my barrier.

In a moment of weakness, I try to urge my curiosities out of him.

“What happened to your mother?” I whisper, staring at him wide-eyed and weak in his arms.

I somewhat fantasize him snapping my neck, as he easily could, yet he surprises me by running his thumb against the skin of my cheek. For a fleeting second, I wonder if I’m drugged and the view of him with such a sheep’s wool-soft smile is a hallucination. “Hadn’t anyone ever told you?”

I take a few deep breaths, shaking my head in a silent response as his thumb continues to drag against my skin. In a moment’s miracle, his hand drops from my face and settles back onto the pillow.

“Someone attacked,” he says quietly. “Came early evening, right after I’d finished my day’s classes and took a break to play around in the flower. She was in her study, overlooking the garden. I… don’t quite remember much beyond slashing pain, the stark blueness of the sky and waking up to mum not being there anymore. All I’ve been told is she threw herself between the attacker and I, and she hadn’t survived.”

I purse my lips, watching his eyes drop and feeling my own mind claw back to reality while his sinks away. I don’t have much to do, besides attempt a similar comfort.

My hand drops to his good knee, sliding up to rest on his mid tight. He tenses at first, and I contemplate pulling back, but he draws his leg out closer towards me after a second. It makes my heart patter faster, throat restricting as I catch his eyes.

“Was the killer ever caught?”

He appears shocked, shaking his head as if I’d said something irrational given the situation. “What? I… no. Never.”

“Then we have to catch them,” I whisper, urging closer. “I’ll help--I have to. You know my secret, and now I have to pay you back.”

“You surely do not have to,” he utters back, face contorting in confusion. “I have no reason to share this pain with you, and you have no reason to seek to solve a decades old crime.”

I scan his face, shifting a bit in my spot as my hand remains set on his thigh. “I wish to,” I add. “It’s unfair. I’m not rather fond of the unfair.” It’s not a lie; far from it. If it’s right, it’s what I should be doing with wishes for friendship aside. Yet, if it draws me closer to him, if it keeps me at such a distance as we’ve been for days, then I’ll solve all the crimes in England for him.

His jaw goes a bit slack, eyes darting back to my hand and up towards me. “Do you really wish to help me?”

“I’ll do anything.” I lean closer, feeling his breath on my cheek as he stares at me. “I’ll tear up half the country to solve this for you.”

“You are far too kind, Sir Snow.”

“And you're not too evil, Mr. Pitch.”

His tongue lets out and I watch it’s pink trail, swiping against his lip as my heart races out of my chest cavity. I’m positive that he’s tempting a quick word, but a knock at the bedroom door sends us flying apart. I scramble out of bed, jolting to a standing position and straightening out my shirt where it’s tucked in. He raises his blanket up further, pushing his hair back as he tries to smoothly call for the unknown person to enter.

In pops a servant, carrying a food tray. “Master Grimm stated that he’d assumed both of you would not be joining for dinner, given Master Pitch’s state, so I come to bring the food,” they say quickly, as if it's rehearsed, as they offer it out to me. I take with a nod, thanking it. The servant avoids eye contact with both of us, rushing out quickly and leaving me to stand somewhat awkwardly, a platter of food in my hands.

We exchange a glance, me standing and staring as he sits on the far opposite side of his bed. I nearly go to sit somewhere else, but he keeps the space beside him empty as an invitation that I can’t quite refuse.

In silence, we sit to eat side-by-side, nearly like we’d been doing such for years. It’s inescapably intimate; a couple’s dinner in a couple’s bed, if an illustration seeked fit to capture the moment. In the depths of my mind, I ponder what it'd be like to have a couple's dinner.

I clean up after us, leaving the tray outside the room and finding the instructions for Mr. Pitch's nighttime dose of the pain reliever. I settle beside him on the bed, filling his cup with the required amount of drops before he sips it down. His nose scrunches before he exhales and relaxes slightly, eyes trailing me as I reach out to grab my shoes and jacket to retire off to bed.

He stops me with a cleared throat and side-casted glance. “Sir Snow…” he begins. “Don’t find me rude, but… I did feel quite a bit calmer with you in the room. Of course, I would defend myself if I weren’t injured, but-”

“Do you wish me to stay in the room once more?”

“Until I’m sure I’m safe,” he adds, head bobbing once in a nod. Of course, I won’t refuse.

I leave my shoes and jacket, going to collect my blanket for the sofa as he stares. It leaves me unnerved and sends me spinning back to face him. He cuts in, once again, before I can. “My bed… is quite large…”

I shock, narrowing my eyes at him as I shift from foot to foot. “Mr. Pitch, are you not afraid of someone seeing us? Two men laying beside each other, is that not something to arouse suspicion?”

His hand dismissively waves, nose turning up. “The servants know to knock before entering. There should be no such worries.”

I stand frozen at first, torn between what’s clearly proper and what I may secretly wish for.

My urges win the battle.

After borrowing one of Mr. Pitch’s nightclothes, I rush to change in his bathroom and emerge to find him waiting with the blankets turned down. I settle beside him, hands folding on my chest nervously as we stare at each other.

He makes the first move of comfort, hand reaching out and grasping mine. “Are you positive that you’d be able to find my mother’s killer?”

I trace my fingertips along his knuckles in the briefest moment of weakness, studying the dips and curves of his face so stunningly close. “I’m convinced,” I murmur, pushing my fingers between his. “After all, you’re too smart and I’m too bold for it to not work.”

He exhales out, lips threatening a genuine smile as he stares off at me. “Thank you.”

I have to force myself to not overreact to his words, nearly positive I’d heard them wrong at first. After seconds of processing, I find it in myself to turn my body towards him and smile at him. “It’s my pleasure, Mr. Pitch.” I press our palms together, feeling his gaze soften as we stay locked in.

“Basilton,” he whispers after a few brief seconds. “Or--or Baz. I hear you trade such soft names within your friends, and it feels displacing to be referred to as mister.”

I study his face and nod my head slowly in understanding. “Baz,” I test, feeling it on my lips and watching him smile once again, keeping it in the privacy of just him and I. I wish to try it again. I do try it again. “Baz.”

“That’s enough, Snow.”

I wrinkle my nose. “Simon.”

“Hm… I prefer Snow.” He returns back to his playful smirk, and I feel like pushing him over. I can’t truly push him, of course--he’s got a broken leg, and we are laying down after all. So I settle for a shoulder nudge, which leads to receiving one back. Soon enough, we nudge each other back and forth until we sneak closer to poke and prod at each other’s faces. Eventually, in silent laughter, he collapses forward towards me with a full faced smile and settles his cheeks on top my shoulder.

Despite my best urges, I simply smooth back his roughed hair and smile. “Sleep well, Baz,” I whisper, enjoying the way his name rolls from my mouth.

He returns with a grunt, remaining against me as he dozes asleep.

I ponder for the moments before I sleep whether or not this is the beginning of our friendship. I think it may just be so.

#carry on #fanfiction #victorian au #snowbaz #fanfic #fic #mine #tyrannus basilton grimm-pitch #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #baz pitch #simon snow #baz #simon #of wealth and leisure #i like writing and just making simon as lost as humanly possible #also hehe tricked ya huh thought they were gonna kiss #gave em the lil ol switcheroo

53 notes · View notes

anuknowha · 6 years ago

Text

Till Death Do We Part// Chapter 9, XOXO

He sat there, combing his dreads through his hands. He picked up the pillow off the bed and threw it at a nearby wall, pissed.

“What the fuck?!” He screamed.

He was pissed off about the situations of his life. This wasn't what he wanted. His life was taken away from him before he even got a chance to live it. And although his ways were a bit controversial, he still knew he had a right to live. He actually didn't know how long he was dead, there hadn't been even a gut feeling telling him how long he's been there. He never really thought of time the way it was supposed to be. It never really was something that occurred to him because he thought he would have all the time in the world. He'd be wrong. Because in June of 2018 he was shot to death in his car. And even as he was dying, taking his last breath he couldn't believe this was happening to him.

“Fuck.” He paced around the room his footsteps hard and heavy.

Pacing wasn't the average for him but he couldn't help it as he tried to walk off his anger which was something that seemed almost impossible.

He continued to curse under his breath. He punched at the wall angrily. His fists starting to get coated in blood. Every punch made the wall weaker, a small crack forming in the dark blue paint. And within a few more punches he made an inch wide hole in the wall. And even with bloody fists he continued to punch at the wall, causing the wall to vibrate. This rung up the attention of the guy who was next door who was trying to concentrate. He instantly put his guitar down and got up to unlock his door. He peeked out of it and looked around. And he heard the sound coming from his left. He was slightly fed up as the pounding continued even as he approached the door. As calmly as possible he knocked at the door. Only to not receive an answer. He knocked louder before the punching paused. Taking this as an opportunity, he decided to knock as loud as possible drawing the complete attention of the guy in the room.

A disgusted shy left his lips as he walked over to the door and opened it.

“May I-” he cut himself off, taken aback by the shorter man standing in front of him.

“Prince?” the boy said raising a brow.

“In the flesh.” Prince said, irritation lingering in his voice only some. “Now could you please keep it down some? I'd appreciate if you did. Just some if any. I'm trying to practice a new song.”

“Yeah… yeah… Sorry.” He sighed as he rubbed his face with both his hands.

And with that Prince noticed the boy's bloody knuckles. This caused him to peek in and look in in which he found a small crater starting to form in the wall. Little bits of brick crumbling from it every so often. He turned his attention back to the boy and raised a brow.

“Who are you?”

“I'm Xxxtentacion. Well that's my stage name at least.”

“Uh huh.” Prince stated as he nodded. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah? Yeah!” He said suddenly as he felt himself getting flustered for annoying someone who paved such a path; for annoying a legend.

And although he wasn't a big fan of Prince he did enjoy his music and respect him for many reasons more than one. But he was never expecting to meet him in person.

“Sorry I was loud man. I'm just stressed out.”

Prince didn't respond and instead walked over to the hole in the wall that was covered in a thick layer of the crimson liquid.

“You did that huh? Must be a hell of a reason to be angry.”

Tentacion walked over to the bed and sat down on it scratching the back of his head and nodding. Prince took this time to sit next to him.

“I'm sure I've heard of you before, at least once before I died but it doesn't quite ring enough of a bell.”

“I was just hitting fame back in 2016, one of the best years of my life honestly. Coming up with a girlfriend and some money. I didn't want to be broke ya know?”

“No one wants to die broke or alone. I assume that there's more than that that's wrong.”

“Yeah, I was about to have a son.”

“Interesting, pretty young to be having a child aren't you?” Prince joked. “A lot of people have children your age, whether it be on accident or on purpose. Youth.” He sighed with a small smile on his lips, it was barely noticeable. noticeable

“Speaking of how old are you anyway? 24? 25?”

“20…”

“That’s actually a lot younger than I expected…” Prince trailed off highly caught off guard. “How'd you die?”

“I was shot in my car. Drivers seat.”

“I'm sorry… Not sure if you're aware how I died but you could just say it was an accidental overdose.”

“Was it?”

Prince shrugged and looked at the tv in front of him that was hanging on the wall.

“If I told you it was more of an accident than you realize, you wouldn't believe me. They never believe people like us.”

“Yeah, you’re right about that.”

“They’re probably still trying to hide the truth about how I died.”

“What do you think happened?”

“I think I just lost it, or maybe they just wanted to get rid of me. I had an addiction, yes, but, I didn’t think it would kill me.” he chuckled to himself. “Always isn’t it? They always believe that “this” isn’t how they’d die but that’s exactly what happens. It didn’t go at all as planned but I can’t say that I regret it much. I’m glad to be free from the bounds of the company. You know? It felt like I was trapped, that I was a slave.”

“I’ve heard about that. When you wrote “slave” on your face.”

“Yeah, I did, for reasons. And people found it a problem, well the company did. Not my fault you know? You can’t just hold back someone from their creative freedom and keep them held captive for years on end both financially and mentally. Slavery in the music industry is the same as it was when people were in fields picking cotton, especially if you’re black, but the only difference is you get paid. But, the pay doesn’t mean anything if you’re still leashed around and housed by a company that doesn’t know any better. I had tried to change my name so I could get out of it but I couldn’t. I was still dragged back to the same company with the same treatment. Letting them suck me dry of funds and my enjoyment. I didn’t like it, and I would’ve been damned if I kept it up longer than I needed to. I’m free now, just like a dove.”

“How can you be so calm about being dead? Being free from a company is one thing but being dead? That’s another.”

Prince chuckled and brushed his hair from his face with his hand.

“It's not easy to except that I’m dead, it really isn’t. I wish it was though. I always liked the life of fame, it was exciting and thrilling. It had so much potential and I was head over heels to be in the limelight because I knew that’s where I belonged. I was meant to perform regardless of how you look at it. But I wasn’t meant to be broken like that. I wasn’t meant to be used for personal gain and I wasn’t meant to lose myself along the way.”

“I never thought about it that way.”

Prince patted the boy’s back and laughed.

“You weren’t in the industry long enough to know when you’re trapped. You were only 20, and you were in there for about a year or two right? Once they start seeing you as profitable enough they’ll start eating at you like a pack of wild dogs. There’s no holding them back, there never was. It’s their plan from the beginning. Unless you cut the leash right before they get you, you’re in for it; you’ve lost it all. And I never expected to make it big but I knew I needed to because this was the career path I chose. And I feel bad for people like you, especially since you didn’t really get to get your feet off the ground before your life was taken from you. I was at least 57, I had a good long run, but I still wish it lasted longer than it had. 57 is still pretty young to die, since there’s musicians out there in their 70’s still strumming their string to a familiar tune.”

“I know but it just seems all too real. I don’t get to enjoy enough. I was happy, I finally was trying to be a better person and than it’s over.”

“A better person? What have you done in the past?”

XXXTentacion laughed as tears started to stream down his face.

“What haven’t I done? I’ve assaulted women, I’ve carried illegal weapons, I’ve done drugs at one point. I’ve been a very cruel person a lot of my life, even as I was rising into fame. I was that kid who took it too far or overstayed their welcome on decisions. I fucked up a lot, and I wish I could take it all back. I really do. Maybe if I didn’t do any of that stuff I would’ve received a better sentencing for life. Karma is a bitch.”

Prince stares at him, his eyes wide and following the tears that were flowing down the boy’s cheeks. He looked away and placed his hands on his lap, brushing off invisible dirt from his bright purple jacket.

“Just because you’re dead doesn’t mean your adventure has to end here too. Your legacy will live on forever either way it must. Hopefully for the better, but no telling.”

“Yeah… no telling.” A voice came from the doorway.

His head was shaved, and his ears had black gauges in both of his ears. He was currently leaning in the doorway, which caught both of the guys’ attention.

“Chester?” Tentacion, asked.

“You’re Chester Bennington aren’t you? From… Linkin Park right? I’ve heard of you.” Prince added.

“I’m pretty sure many were fond of me.” Chester sighed.

“I thought you were alive last time I listened to your music?” Prince questioned.

“He committed suicide in 2017. Hung himself.”

“I can tell my own story, thanks kid.” Bennington huffed.

“You hung yourself? I know you’ve been through a lot, you lived a long life and I’m proud that you lived so long. I wish you could’ve lived your life to the fullest but I can understand how it feels to be degraded.” Prince frowned.

“I don’t think you understand on the exact same level.” Chester sighed as he walked into the room. “I actually came to ask you guys to quiet down and seemingly I was late to the party. I’ve trying to get myself together. I really am trying to get all my thoughts through okay?”

“What exactly do you mean?” A mysterious voice added from behind him.

A tall brunette with glasses stood in the doorway fixing the collar of his shirt with a hum.

“Don’t you look familiar? Well, two of you do.” he said.

“And who are you?” Tentacion said heading towards the man.

“I’m Ray, from the Doors. I wanted to see if anyone knew where Jim was? Do guys even know if he is here?”

“Jim Morrison? I thought I heard him downstairs a few days ago but I’m not too sure. I just woke up not long ago. I don’t actually remember being here, actually thought I would’ve ended up somewhere else.” Chester said rubbing his chin. “But I actually don’t know where here is.”

“This can’t be heaven.” Ray expressed.

“And why can’t it be? All can be forgiven at some points in their lives, and there are ways to be received by Jehovah.” Prince said as he gave a soft smile.

"You're telling me that a suicidal man and an abuser ended up in heaven?" Chester sneered. "I wouldn't believe that I had my "sins" taken away before I made that decision." "I don't really believe in a god anyway." Tentacion sighed. "I'm one of the last people I'd actually believe would end up here. And even if I was a Christian, I wouldn't be here by the time I had died. I didn't have time to be "forgiven" like most sinners." "Than where do you think we are? I doubt this is hell. Hell is whatever we fear most. It's are deepest pains being relived over and over again. I would probably be stuck enslaved forever by the industry. That's definitely my hell." "That's the "Bible's" version of it. Maybe this is what hell really is. A bunch of stars here living the rest of eternity out in an endless world." Ray uttered. They looked at Ray and laughed some. "But we're not suffering, we're happy. Well, I'm happy." Prince grinned. "I'm still upset about being murdered. I'm still upset about my child. I'm upset about my girl. And I'm upset about my career. I didn't live long enough to see everything." Tentacion hissed under his breath. Ray dug into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette and put it to his mouth. "How old is he?" Tentacion looked up at him. "20." Ray shrugged. "Be lucky you got to live as long as you did. I died from cancer." "You lived longer than all of us, how could you just say these things?!" Tentacion exclaimed "I'm just thankful I was alive at some point at all. I'm not religious, I never was, but I did believe in living life to the fullest. I believed in making my life better and less stressful. I took a road I enjoyed and I ran the race to the end. Didn't matter what I did while I was on my way as long as I didn't cause as much trouble as Jim.” Ray chuckled. He took this time to pull a matchbook out his pocket and take one out. He struck it and gently lit his cigarette before blowing it out.

"That's how life is supposed to be lived, regardless of how it ends but not everyone could do that. We were lucky enough that we were able to." Chester added, crossing his arms and looked at Ray. The room got quiet as Tentacion took it all in. His breathing became heavy. "Can everyone get out of my damn room?"

The tension in the room grew and they could tell the young boy was furious. They were only slightly taken aback. Not like they wanted to be there much anyway, they just either wanted to find someone or get the loud wall hitting to stop. And it did a while ago, so maybe there was no need for them any longer. They all looked at him and than each other. He hung his head down not seeing Prince get off the bed though he felt the shift of the mattress underneath him. They walked off, one by one, not a word from their mouths as they left the room to head their separate directions. Chester went back to his room and shut the door, locking it and took the time to wash his face as he still tries to get himself together in thought. He's been dead a year and he still didn't believe it.

Ray left the room and started to check other doors looking for Jim. Door after door, knock after knock, there was either no answer or just the answer of someone didn't really recognize. Eventually a familiar voice answered him. "Yes?" Jim said from the other side of the door before walking up to it so he could hear better. "Jim, Morrison?" "That's me, may I ask who's calling?" Jim smirked cheekily from behind the door as he leaned against it, pressing his ear to it. And awaiting a response. "It's Ray you fuck-" "Ray? Hmm? I don't think I remember any Ray." He chuckled. "Open the door Jim." "Or what?" Ray sighed, his voice becoming slightly annoyed with the thought. He could tell by the way the leader sounded that he might have had one too many drinks, something that seemed impossible in the after life. "I will kick it down. Because I know too well you're intoxicated." "Yeah, you're right. I am... And?" "Open the door." Ray's voice became stern. The room became silence as he did not receive an answer back. After a while he heard the unlocking of a door followed by it opening. Jim stood there, his clothes only slightly messy and his eyes in a daze. Their eyes meant for a brief moment and Ray gave him a brotherly hug. "Ah Ray, welcome to this place of mine. Wait a minute... You're dead?" "Why else do you think I'm here?" "How long has it been?" Jim squinted and shook his head confusingly while he tried to clear his vision. "According to the guys in the other room, about 47 years." "Shit man." He placed his hand on his band mate's thigh and shook it. "You must've lived a long time and lived an extraordinary life huh?" "Yeah, I did. I had my fun." "So how'd you-?" "I died of cancer Jim." Jim's eyes widened as he looked over his partner, sympathy tugging at his slightly drowsy eyes. "Sorry to hear that. Thought all of you guys would have hit old age." "Being in your 70's when you die seems like a pretty well lived life. After all, you didn't even make it to 30 and I just met a boy who ain't make it to 27." "Damn, how old?" "20. Claimed to have been shot in the driver seat of his car." Jim's brows shrugged as he crossed his arms in thought. "What are you thinking about?" Jim didn't give a response because he wasn't paying attention, he actually didn't hear him. His mind was still foggy and cloudy from taking in so much alcohol. "Would you like a bottle?" "Fine, hand it over." Ray said ignoring the fact that he himself was just ignored. It didn't matter much to him whether or not he gained a response at the moment. It wasn't that important. Jim went over to the small bedside table and grabbed a can of beer. It was still cold, condensation dripping off of it and onto his hand as he hands it to Ray. "How'd you get these?" "There's some in the fridge downstairs." "They just have these stacked up in the fridge? Are there more left?" Jim shrugged. "I dunno." "Useless, like always." Ray laughed to himself as he popped open the can of beer and took a sip. He closed his eyes tight and coughed. "That's stronger than any shit I've had when I was alive." "That's because its absinthe. And seemingly heavenly absinthe as that."

“Strong. I love it. Now how about a card game like good old times?” Ray smiled patting Jim on the back.

As Prince left out the room he bumped into a woman. Her black hair was in small buns. She slightly blushed upon impact.

“I’m sorry-” she said shaking her head as she took a good look at the short man standing in front of her.

“Prince!?” she screamed.

“Aretha!?” he said as he embraced her, only to receive a hug back.

“Aretha? I’m surprised you’re here… how long has it been?”

“Two years.”

“Two? Seems like it's been longer than that.” Prince nodded. “Maybe we should catch up later, after I get finished writing a song.”

He started to walk past her and towards his room.

“A song? Do you need to write music up here while we're in heaven, while we're free? We shouldn't have to carry no more burdens.”

Prince laughed to himself as he entered the room.

“I never suffered making music. I suffered from being control and held back from everything I am.”

And with that he shut his door and went back to his bed and started strumming his guitar. Aretha continued on downstairs, thinking about what Prince told her for the rest of the day.

Taglist: @lennonwhipped @rogers-flowered-blazer @caviarandqueen @sweet-mother-love @peacelennon @caminc91

3 notes · View notes