#cleaning up all his PR nightmares while he's still alive | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

petri808 · 3 years

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1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26

*Note and question for readers at the end :)

Lucy’s eyes flashed wide as her emotions swung drastically from her own distress to the blood still dripping down Natsu’s cheek. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” She scrambled away from him, stumbling on her knees to right herself as she looked quickly around the room for any fabric. She grabbed a towel off the kitchen counter and rushed back, dropping to her knees as she pressed it to the wound. Tears renewed in her eyes. “Look at what she did, this is so bad! It’s gonna leave a scar for sure! Oh god,” her eyes flit back and forth rapidly from his face to his body, “and your side too! This is so bad!” The tears flowing down her cheeks were a mixture of emotions. Lucy lifted his shirt, flinching, fingers curling into the hem in anger as she sees the jagged wound on the side of his abdomen. If it had gone just a little deeper, he wouldn’t be sitting there with her and that really set her off! “You should’a let me beat her senseless! Look at this! She deserves to be in the same pain she put you through!”

Despite the physical pain, Natsu was trying desperately to keep his girlfriend from losing it again and seeing the wound was only riling her up further. He gently moved her shaky hands away from his side to push his shirt down again. “Lucy, it’s okay, really, d-don’t work yourself up, please? What’s important is we made it.”

“But still! This wasn’t fair!”

“Shhh, baby, it’s gonna be okay...”

“No, it’s not! Stop saying that!” Lucy snapped back. She wasn’t an idiot. She could see the pain in his grimaced features which only made her even more furious. “This will never be over. Those scars won’t go away! I’m gonna have nightmares, I know it! So, don’t you tell me it’s gonna be okay!”

Her emotions were in full throttle mode as she then flailed her bound wrists at the milling officers. “And will somebody get these damn ropes off me?!?!” One of the men cut her loose as she continued to scream and cry.

“I hate her! I hate her for what she’s done! I-I’ve never hated anyone before, but right now I just wanna... I just wanna...”

Still holding onto his side, Natsu used his left arm to pull his girl into a tight hug. He knew exactly what words were on the edge of her lips, but his current priority was calming her down and agreeing would only fuel her anger. “Lucy shhh,” he cooed in a soft tone, “it’s okay, baby it’s okay...”

“It’s not! It’s not!” Once again, Lucy slumped against him as another wave of hysterical sobbing racked her body. It wasn’t okay! She’d been kidnapped and almost killed! Her boyfriend was seriously injured all because Touka couldn’t except reality. None of this was okay! She couldn’t take much more of these roller coaster emotions. Sadness, anger, relief, they continued to alternate in her mind. Leaning back and fixing him in a narrowed and pained glare. “I thought I was gonna die— Natsu I just can’t stop thinking about that! Die, do you understand?!” Her chest heaved with every word. “I was so scared... so scared—,” her hand unconsciously moved up to cup around the front of her neck as if still feeling the sensation of the knife pressed against it. “I-I don’t even know how I kept myself from losing it... I just kept thinking, I gotta get out of here, I-I gotta figure out a way to save myself. And when she raised the knife—.” Her words cut off mid-sentence and eyes drifted to the spot they’d been standing in as if her thoughts halted in remembrance.

“Lucy,” Natsu cradled her cheek, pulling her gaze back onto him, “you are so much stronger then you give yourself credit for.”

She rolled her eyes in an exasperated sob. “If I’m so strong, then why am I crying now?!”

His eyes softened. “Because you can. You did what you had to stay alive and now you can let it all go. Baby, it’s okay to let it out. Let it all out and cry as much as you need to, cause I’ll hold you for as long as you need it.”

Lucy paused her words and simply cried for several minutes against his chest. She didn’t feel strong, and how was he staying so calm?! But oh, how she needed the reassurances. Deep down she knew he was just trying to help, knew what he was saying was the truth, but even if she’d wanted to stop thinking about these things, she couldn’t. The night played out on an endless loop in her mind’s eye. What could she have done to avoid this? Was there anything she could have said to stop Touka? She didn’t know if it was her heart or her head trying to tell her no, that nothing would have changed the woman’s plans. But once the dam had broken, her mind just wasn’t ready to fully let go. It was too angry about everything, even feared just how angry this was all making her feel. Lucy didn’t like it one bit. Ugh! What was Touka turning her into?!

“I wanted to kill her, Natsu... does that make me bad just like her?”

Those words whispered out by Lucy as she rested her head on his shoulder, stunned Natsu, but he could understand the reasoning. In such a heated moment when instincts took over, it’s either kill or be killed and he could admit to himself, if he’d had the chance, he would have done so too. But Touka had proven to be a a lot tougher then she looked. Perhaps the woman was running on the same anger that now plagued his girlfriend? It was perfectly clear how both he and Lucy were going to need therapy after this if they were to get back to a normal life, but he also needed to cling to hope, to make sure Touka didn’t succeed in ruining the rest of their lives.

He kissed her temple. “It’s normal to feel that way, but you’re not a killer,” Natsu reassured Lucy in a soft tone. “That’s just not who you really are.”

His words seemed to work for the time being as the woman quieted enough for the medical workers who’d arrived to start their job. The wound to Lucy’s neck was quickly cleaned and bandaged, but Natsu’s injuries were much more severe. The EMT’s cleaned and stapled the cheek and side wounds, but he’ll need to be taken to the hospital for scans to ensure it didn’t knick any internal organs, as well as to better suture the wounds.

A flurry of more officers had descended to start an investigation, of which Gajeel took the lead. And there was a wealth of information in the apartment to document. As they’d already learned, Touka was a former schoolmate of Natsu from high school who had reams of pictures, print outs from social media, even personal information on Natsu as well as Lucy that they would need to figure out how she’d somehow obtained. The woman hadn’t been kidding about stalking the man for years.

Once the officers had arrived, everything became a blur for Lucy who felt pulled in multiple directions all at once. She was so overwhelmed by the flood of information and experiences that her mind was shutting down, body numbed in an adrenaline stupor. Medical personnel were trying to work on Natsu and attend to her superficial neck wound, while detectives were asking them questions about the ordeal. When they’d tried to separate the couple to interview them, Lucy wasn’t having it, clinging harder to the man so they’d given up.

No, she’d knocked me out, so I don’t know how she got me here. Yes, I woke up bound on the floor. Yes, she’d kept the knife to my throat most of the time. Yes! Most of the time! How long... how the fuck should I know?! She moved it briefly to think! No, I don’t know how long I was unconscious, does it really matter?!

Any strides Natsu had made at calming her down went out the window. Lucy’s whole body was shaking in anger as she cradled her head to block them out. She was seriously about to have a mental break down right then and there. “Can everyone give me some fucking breathing room?! We told you this was fucking serious, but you didn’t believe us!”

Natsu too, had grown frustrated by the pointed and emotionless questioning. Here they’d just been through a harrowing ordeal, and these police offers were victimizing his girlfriend for a second time! He snapped at one of the detectives to stop traumatizing Lucy. “The woman was seconds away from being killed, have some fucking compassion!”

That’s when Gajeel, who’d had his hands full directing everything, finally stepped in and told the other detectives to cool it for now, growling at them to remember they were the victims. “You fuckers worry about collecting physical evidence. I’ll deal with the interviews once they’re cleared by the doctors!” He then redirected back to the couple. “Levy’s gonna meet you two at the hospital, then once the doctors are done, you’ll come to my office for an interview. It’s gonna be rough, not gon’ lie, but I’ll try to make the process as easy on you as I can.”

“Thanks, man,” Natsu expressed a sincere gratitude to Gajeel who simply nodded back and directed the EMT’s to take them to the hospital.

Lucy helped Natsu to his feet and the couple are guided downstairs to the awaiting ambulance. As they pass by the other apartments, it’s obvious the whole incident had drawn the attention of residents or neighbors, who peered through windows or tracked with eyes the couple walking by. It was creepy, irritating, calling upon what little reserves she had to not stop walking and snap. She wanted to scream, mind your business! Till she realized if they hadn’t done so in the first place, maybe someone would have caught onto Touka’s behaviors sooner. Did the woman really have no friends? If anyone had visited the apartment and saw the Natsu collage plastered all over the wall, it would have raised eyebrows in the least. Or maybe... no one cared... it’s not a stretch to think any friends Touka has are just as crazy as she is. Not even the police cared enough to take them seriously. Why? Because it’s just too strange for a woman to be so mentally unstable? Probably chalked it all up to a lovers triangle gone wrong. What if?! What if?! What if?! Lucy’s mind was starting to race again with thought, after negative thought pulsing through faster then she could process them.

Her hand started tightening on Natsu’s as they sat side by side in the ambulance causing him to look over and question her. “Lucy, you okay?” His worried tone growing with each second. Her body was shivering yet tense, head shaking no, eyes wide but glassy, and breathing growing labored in rapid bursts. The EMT sitting across from them watching the events unfold, reached out to take Lucy’s wrist. She flinched but doesn’t pull it back. After a few seconds of silence, the man let go and warned that her pulse was racing.

“Miss, you’re having a panic attack.”

Question for readers below:

There was 4 more chapters planned, but depending on how things play out I may need to add more as needed. While the major things I wanted to hit upon were planned out in advance, I never know where the characters and stories will take me lol.

A question for any readers who see this note is: How much of Lucy's recovery from this ordeal would you like to see or should I delve into? It would lengthen the amount of angst, but also add to the growing relationship and bond between Natsu and Lucy.

Thoughts? Comment in the notes :)

#nalu #nalu au #nalu fan fic #nalu fan fiction #Lucy heartfilia #Natsu dragneel #fairytail #Natsu x lucy #strangers on a train #ch 22

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darth-el · 4 years

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You’re So Damn Hypnotised

Pairing: Billy x Reader Warnings: Oh boy where do I start? Drugs (weed and cocaine), alcohol, descriptions of (really bad) sex, underage drinking and just general debauchery because. I’m going to say angst as well and there will most likely be smut in part 2 if you want. Probably going to do a little 18+ warning here as well Song Request: You’ll be Fine - Palaye Royale A/N: This is 5472 words. My longest one to date and I’m nowhere near done so part 2 is heading your way. The song to me felt like it had a seedy undertone to it so this is just pure sleaze on a road trip. I also took another bit of inspiration with the record label stuff from a program called Vinyl as I thought it would work well with this. I hope you enjoy and feedback is always welcomed. I am also English so I have no idea how long it takes to get from one place to another by road in the USA.

Masterlist

Part 2

Your life in London was fast and energetic. You were the daughter of punks who hung around SEX. After school you always went there and met your parents who would have been smoking joints with the people who turned out to be the punk icons. Your first joint was given to you by Sid Vicious when you were about ten. No one believed that when you told them. Your father started working for a large record label when you were five and transferred to New York when you were fourteen with a seventeen year old. You had never forgiven him for that, your mother blamed you for the end of their relationship which left your relationship with her strained. After your dad left she decided to study science and become a scientist, her logic was “I was good with drugs.” It became even more strained when she announced that you were moving to America as well. You hoped she meant to New York so you could be near your dad. This was not the case at all. She showed you your worst nightmare. It was called Hawkins. This was the America you had seen in films, it tried to be wholesome and patriotic. Within the first night of being there you had already found yourself driving to Indianapolis, but you were stopped when the cops pulled you over saying that the car, (your dad had bought you as a way to say “Welcome to America, I'll be father of the year from a distance”) was stolen. You still hadn't forgiven her for that.

Your first month at school was a whirlwind. Within that month your dad rang you to let you know that he wanted you to drive to LA with a friend, stop over Las Vegas, just because he knew you would like it and see a band he thought was called “Red Peppers” at a club on New Years Eve because he wanted to potentially sign them. It was going to be all expense paid and he was going to send you the money for gas, motels, and anything else you needed. The only problem was you didn't have any friends to go with. That was until one night you got really drunk at Tina's Christmas party. You were always spontaneous. You went to Barcelona with people you met two days before and spent the summer on a house boat with people you had met two hours into arriving in Barcelona. When you came back your mother fell through the floor which you thought was a bit unfair because you left her note. Her argument was that you were sixteen and they were in their twenties. Feeling spontaneous and drunk you ended up finding yourself locked in a bathroom with Billy, you laying in the bath with a joint and a bottle of whiskey you bought yourself, him sitting on the counter next to the sink also with a joint you had rolled for him planning the road trip to LA.

He dropped you off and you pulled him into your house and into your room, which was decorated with photos that gave him a glimpse of your past life. There were a couple that really caught his eye. One of you laying in bed with a lace bra on, red lips, cigarette hanging out of your mouth. Love bites covering your exposed skin as you stared down the lens of the camera. “16th Birthday” There was a little heart next to it which acted like your signature. The other one of you was you sitting on Tommy Lee's lap legs up in the air as you're leaning back laughing holding a bottle of champagne. “Motley Crue – 27/03/83” it read with the little heart on it. He didn't really think much of you at school as you kept your head down and when he did think of you he thought you were an uptight bitch who wasn't interested in him. You made that clear the first day when you were like stone when he hit on you. There was more to you that met the eye. He wasn't sure if it was the alcohol but he was intrigued.

The December air was crisp outside. You were hoping LA was going to be warm, you craved the winter sun. You wrapped yourself up in a couple of blankets and made your way downstairs with your suitcases, with Billy's help. You were both drunkenly laughing trying to be quiet and also not trying to fall down the stairs due to the blankets that were wrapped around you. The moon illuminated the street as you walked to Billy's car you were dancing under the light the moon with your blankets still wrapped around you swaying with your movements. For the first time since moving to Hawkins you felt free and alive.

You both started to sober up, by that point it was too late to turn back. You were way into Illinois. Your feet were resting up on the dash you were sunk into your seat with arms resting and hanging over the back of your seat. Billy had a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. There was a spark in the air. You looked at Billy whose eyes were stuck on the road. A month ago you were indifferent to him. He thought he was king of the school, he was egotistical. He was charming. He was like every guy you had dated. That's exactly why in your drunken state you chose him for this road trip. There was a comfort in the familiarity. He thought you were unlike anyone he ever met. It was like you were leading this double life. You were hard working at school, and quiet. He didn't realise you had an edge and that edge was sharp and a secret party animal who partied with the best it seemed. He realised when he was sitting in Tina's bathroom you gave him a way to escape from his family, even if it was for just over a week. This was the first time since he was a child that he felt carefree.

After a few hours you both realised you were getting tired and hadn't slept for almost a day. You found an old motel, you didn't know where you were. You didn't even know if you were heading in the right direction but to be honest you didn't care. You could have ended up in Mexico and you would have been happy. If you ended up in Canada you would have be slightly less happy. As you walked to the desk to check in you could tell this was motel was for truckers and affairs. It was musty and looked like it hadn't been decorated since the 1960's and hadn't been cleaned since the 1970's. You didn't care though, you felt an affinity to places like this.

“Room for two?” The girl didn't look up as she was chewing gum and filing her nails.

“You got it doll.” Billy leaned on the desk putting on his award winning charm which made the girl look up at him and as she handed him the key you noticed their hands touched, most likely by design on Billy's part causing her to blush. You rolled your eyes at this as you snatched the key from him as you were getting tired and wanted to sleep and made your way to the room. You opened the door and it was smokey. The walls were a dirty pink, with yellow smoke stains and god knows what else. The bathroom light when you switched it on was buzzing and flickering. Everything in the bathroom was avocado green and also stained with hard water. You were quite shocked there was no mould. You dumped yourself on the bed that you claimed and laid down on it as Billy walked through the door with his luggage and dumping it down next what was going to be his bed for the night. He looked at the TV in the corner which looked like it was from the 1960's and had seen better days. He sat on the edge of his bed and lit up a cigarette and turned on the TV. You walked into the bathroom to get out of your dress from the party and ready to go to sleep as tiredness had washed over you and you wanted to sleep through a potential hangover. You walked out the bathroom wearing nothing but a white loose fitting t-shirt and black panties that were nothing special, but they were comfortable. Billy snapped his eyes off the old black and white television and looked like he was eating you up with his eyes. You sat on you bed and grabbed another cigarette. Before you could even light it yourself Billy had stretched over to you with his lighter aflame ready to light it for you. You smiled at him softly and he matched your smile. You laid back on your bed resting on the headboard watching what was happening on the screen but not really taking it in.

“How long do you think until we get to Vegas?” You asked flicking the ash into the ash tray which was on the table which separated your bed.

“If we're going in the right direction, two days max,” Billy shrugged making himself more comfortable on his bed. When the cigarette had reached the end and you stubbed it out climbed under the blankets. “Do you want me to turn it off?” Billy asked as he went to the grab the control in preparation for the “yes.”

“I like the background noise while I sleep.” You said gently as you yawned and sinking further into the bed. Billy shrugged at this answer and made himself even more comfortable.

You woke up a few hours later with your hangover looming over you. Billy was asleep still as you quietly crept outside hoping there was a convenient store nearby as you had a craving for candy and a slurpee. You asked the girl at the reception if there was a 7/11 nearby, after not getting much of an answer out of her you decide to walk along the empty road in hopes of something that could help with your sugar craving. You gave up after about ten minutes as it was too cold for your liking and you weren't prepared to freeze to death for a slurpee. You walked back to your room to find Billy was in the shower. You plonked yourself down on the bed and deciding to watch the frazzled television. Billy came out of the bathroom not expecting you to be there as he was wrapped in nothing but in a towel. His wet hair clung to his wet skin. You couldn't help but notice the how the water droplets rolled down his chest.

“Bathroom is free if you want it.” He mumbled looking at you, as you looked at him biting you lip. You weren't sure if reality was going to hit you and make you both realise that this was not a good idea or if this would go in a completely direction.

“Thanks,” You slightly shook your head as if to snap yourself out of thought. “By the way it is cold out there.” You looked at him over your shoulder smiling before closing the door behind you. The light was making your headache worse. You turned on the shower and there wasn't much hot water so you had to make do. The lukewarm water was definitely not what you needed after venturing outside. The water started to chuck out cold making you yelp from the shock of it. You heard Billy knock on the door. “Are you okay in there?” He sounded mildly concerned. Partially because if you had slipped over and injured yourself he didn't want to walk in on you naked and potentially covered in blood.

“The water is cold!” You answered back as you tried to manoeuvrer yourself so you could wash your hair without getting too much cold water on you. You finally bit the bullet and plunged yourself fully into the cold water, making you curse like a sailor loudly.

You got out the shower and wrapped the towel around you and made your way into the room where Billy was sitting in his jeans and a white vest smoking a cigarette. You went into your suitcase and pulled out some clothes for the day. You could feel Billy's eyes on you. As you walked back into the bathroom you took Billy's cigarette out from between his lips and started smoking it yourself winking at him before closing bathroom door to get changed. You both decided to check out and make your way to Las Vegas which would probably take another day or so.

You managed to reach Colorado and the scenery was snowy and beautiful. You were once again relaxed in the passenger seat with your Polaroid camera in your lap. You were looking at Billy who was smoking, you never realised how much of a heavy smoker he was.

“Do you want play a game?” You asked breaking the silence.

“What game?” He looked at you like you were interrogating him.

“20 questions,” You sat up so you were kneeling on the seat facing him and you lit up a cigarette and smiled.

“You go first,” His eyes went back to the road sounding unsure about this. You pursed your lips in thought and took a drag of your cigarette.

“First kiss?” You blurted out. He looked at you a bit shocked at how quickly you asked the question, as he shifted in his seat.

“I was 10,” He said nonchalantly hoping that would be it, but he caught you out the corner of his eyes looking at him like you wanted more information. “Her name was Sammy and she was a neighbour who I had crush on.” He confessed quietly.

“I can't imagine you as a child,” You laughed as you exhaled creating smoke rings. This garnered his interest for some reason. “Were you as cocky then as you are now?” You teased making him laugh slightly.

“I was worse, especially after that kiss,” he sighed. You could see that he was slowly becoming more relaxed around you. “What about yours?” He looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

“I was nine or ten,” You sat up slightly to roll the window so you could throw butt of the cigarette out. “We were playing kiss chase. It was so bad. It was literally all teeth.” You laughed at this memory and you could feel the clanking of teeth again which made you cringe in your seat.

“First time?” He asked with a slightly cocky smile on his face.

“It was so bad,” You giggled. “Okay, I was sixteen as was he. I was his first girlfriend and we decided to take the plunge...because his parents were out,” You start laughing even more. “It was awkward, it was painful, and foreplay was not part of his vocabulary. I literally timed him and he lasted for 90 seconds. After that, hearing 'you're so tight' makes me cringe,” You laughed hard and adjusted your position in the seat. “Yours?” You were still laughing as was he.

“Better than yours,” he was laughing at the thought of some fourteen year old boy thinking he was a sex god when in reality the girl was timing him because she wanted it over and done with. “I was sixteen. I was at a party, and I ended up talking to this smoking hot girl,”

“How hot?” You asked curiously.

“Think Brooke Shields, but hotter,” You raised your eyebrows in response partially because you wouldn't have clocked him as a Brooke Shields fan. “She was more experienced, knew what she liked and wasn't afraid to tell me. Turned out all the guys wanted to sleep with her, when they found I did...” His smile was still cocky as he took a drag on his cigarette.

“In came King Billy,” You giggled and he pointed at you with his cigarette and nodded. “Staying on the subjects of firsts, first memory?” You beamed a cheesy smile up at him, not that he was looking.

“I'm not sure how old I was, but I vaguely remember my mom carrying me and we're in our kitchen and she's dancing to Janis Joplin,” He sighed, taking another drag and throwing it out the window. “You?”

“I think it was my parents arguing in the next room over, I always knew when they argued because there were more holes in the wall,” You lit up a cigarette as you sank back into your seat. He stared at you blankly. The way you presented yourself gave him the impression your life was far removed from that. “Eyes on the road Hargrove!” You scolded him with no malicious intent as you thought you were going to crash as you couldn't see properly over the dash.

“The road is empty,” He laughed at your overreaction which made you roll your eyes. He wasn't exactly the safest driver at the best of times. “Worst sex you've had?” He tried to subtly look at you so he wouldn't going to get in trouble again.

“Before I moved here,” You had a think and tapped your chin with your fingers rhythmically. You stared off into the distance and you could see mountains line the horizon. “I slept with a yuppie, like I often did. He was coked up. Like they often were. We get back to his and he is obviously addicted as he can't get it up,” You bit your lips as you were telling this story because you couldn't believe you were telling Billy it.

“Jesus,” Billy laughed loudly.

“There's more,” You matched Billy's laugh somehow.

“More?” Billy sounded shocked at how much worse it could get.

“He goes to the bathroom, and comes back completely naked with a hard on, he does what he needs to do. Until I realise I am fucking numb down there,” Billy's eyes were as wide as dinner plates hearing this.

“Did he-” Billy could barely get his words out.

“Coke on the dick,” You nodded stifling your laugh. “I now need to hear yours to make me feel better.” You teased slightly as you went to take a photo of Billy who was lighting another cigarette.

“Also before I moved to that shithole,” Billy's eyes were glued to the road so he could avoid eye contact. “I met this woman on the beach who was very impressed with my surfing,” He smiled and you looked at him curiously. “She's trying every move in the book to get me back to her place,”

“Something you must have experience in,” You teased and a cigarette packet hit you in the face.

“It worked,” Billy laughed wondering how it worked in hindsight.

“Of course,” You threw the cigarette packet back at him and you felt pleased when it hit him in the face.

“We go back to hers, she's not enthused or anything. It's radio silent. Next thing she is shouting the name 'Will' loudly and the bedroom door opens and it's her boyfriend who chases me out of the house.” You burst out laughing at this which made you feel better about your own bad experience. You pull a pen out of your jacket pocket and scribbled “20 Questions – 23/12/84” and put your signature heart on it. He watched you curiously.

The rest of the journey involved you and him talking about childhood memories. Both the good and bad, funny sex stories, and comparing arrests. It shocked him that you had been arrested more than him. He started to realise you were not who he expected. You were mysterious, you were spontaneous, and he was actually enjoying your company. He wanted to know everything about you. You were sitting way down in your seat with your legs now hanging out of the window when the car started to overheat making Billy pull over so it could cool down. You were sitting on the opposite side of the empty road to him watching him as he smoked a cigarette with his sunglasses on and leaning against the car with foot resting on it. He was in his leather jacket and a white shirt. The sun was beating down on him. He almost looked like James Dean, if James Dean had a mullet or was an 80's icon. You took a photo of him without him realising. His mind elsewhere. You walked over to him smiling with the photo that was slowly developing and you leaned on the roof of the car and grabbed a pen out of your jacket pocket. “Somewhere in the Nevada Desert – 24/12/84” it read with the heart next to it. Billy looked at you and held out his hand as if he was asking for the camera. You handed it to him feeling slightly confused. “Hood,” He stated not making the confusion go away as he pulled it closed so you could sit on it. “Any damage, you're paying for it,” He helped you climb on which was difficult as your dress didn't allow any room for any serious movement. The moment he put the camera to his face your inner model came out. “Stay there.” He instructed as he went to the car to get more film. When he came back he started to take more photos of you while you more natural. You slid off the hood and walked over to him and rested your chin on his shoulder as you watched the photos develop. It was the natural ones that caught your eye more than anything.

“Not bad Hargrove.” You smiled up at him. Your favourite one was of you laughing and moving your hair out of your face, that was the one you decided you had to keep. Billy kept one of you looking seductive which did not surprise you in the least.

Once you were back in the car and driving you still had your legs hanging out the window. You took a photo of your legs which once the photo had developed you saw that there was cactus in the background as well which made happy. You titled it “Hawkins to LA – 24/12/84”. You looked up at Billy who was focused on the road. “How much longer?” You asked watching him, he looked down at you now focusing on your intently smiling.

“Between 20 minutes and three hours.” He laughed as you took a photo of him. You decided to title it “Between 20 minutes and 3 hours – 24/12/84”.

WELCOME TO LAS VEGAS population 530,000 the sign read as you drove past it. The sun had set and the lights and noise overstimulated the senses. You hung out of the car window taking a photo of the road ahead. You ducked back into the car and named the photo “population 530,000 - 24/12/84” Everything was garish and tacky. You instantly knew why it was called Sin City. You both found a cheap hotel which was just off the strip. The hotel looked like it was the place CEOs took their mistresses when they wanted to hide their affairs. Your room only had a double bed much to your annoyance. The air smelt of the pheromones left behind by the last people. Billy was fearful of what he was going to find in this room and in the bathroom. You felt at ease here. You were getting slightly worried about why you felt so at home in these crappy motels. You dumped your bags down and made your way to the bathroom so you could brush your teeth before you hopped in the shower.

“You ever been to a strip club?” You smiled at Billy leaning against the door frame as you brushed your teeth.

“Why do you ask?” He sounded somewhat defensive. He felt somewhat embarrassed because one thing this road trip had taught him so far was that you were two steps above him when it came to sex and anything debauched. No one had given him a run for his money like you had. As you walked into the bathroom to spit the toothpaste out he followed you and leaned against the door frame himself. He was deep in thought and was also transfixed on your ass.

“Great, neither have I,” You said as you noticed Billy in the mirror staring at your ass. “Oi Hargrove!” You shouted trying to get his attention. “Are you listening or ya too busy staring at my arse.” You realised how much your London accent came out then and it snapped Billy out of his train of thought and made him decide to stand next to you by the sink. He was towering above you and you could smell the cigarettes on him and his lingering cologne. Your breath hitched slightly when you realised how close he was to you.

“It's just too distracting.” He had his charming smile on his face making you push him away playfully.

“Well I'm going for a shower.” You looked up him trying to show that you were not amused, but you felt a smile creep along your face. He took that as his cue to leave.

The shower was hot, this was the first hot shower you had since you had been on this road trip. Midway through shampooing your hair you realised the towels were on the bed. “Fuck,” You muttered to yourself leaning your forehead against the tiled wall which was covered in mildew, immediately washed your face as you remembered how vile the wall was. You could hear the television on in room. “Billy!” You called waiting for an answer. No answer. You decided to finish up quickly. You opened the door which got Billy's attention. “I need a towel.” You sighed poking your head around the door.

“Want it?” Billy smirked at you. “You'll have to come and get it,” He teased. You felt yourself becoming annoyed by this.

“Unless you want me to kill you in your sleep pass me the towel,” You said holding your arm out and as he passed you the towel.

“You wouldn't dare.” He winked at you which made you hit him with the towel.

“Watch me.” You grinned at him as you wrapped yourself up and continued to get ready.

He thought you looked like an angel amongst sinners in your white dress as you danced up the street on the way to the bar. You spun around a lamppost as he took a photo of you and put it in his jeans pocket. You pulled him down a side road to the bar your dad told you about when you spoke to him, he had also given you a strip club recommendation as well which made you laugh. The bar inside was filled with purple neon lights and “fire pits”. You walked over to the bar and looked at the cocktail menu which made Billy laugh because he didn't peg you as cocktail drinker. “What can I get you darling?” The barmaid smiled at Billy who instantly turned on the charm with her.

“What would you recommend doll?” He leaned on the bar smirking. You could feel something brewing in your stomach.

“I am personally a vodka drinker.” The barmaid giggled touching his arm.

“Then I'll have a vodka,” Billy smiled at her before turning back to you who was still looking at the menu.

“I'll have a screaming orgasm.” You said smiling at the barmaid trying to hide your irritation due to Billy's antics.

“If you wanted one of those all you had to do was ask princess.” Billy teased which made you hit him with the menu. You both got up and made your way to a booth with a fire pit waiting for the waitress to bring the drinks over to you. You admired your surroundings, it was just as garish inside as it is outside.

The night went on and you ended up with a tab of $40 worth of drinks at that bar. You grabbed Billy's hand as you left the bar and led him to the strip club. You awere both fuelled with alcohol and as you led him to the club you felt the ground under your feet become no more as he picked you up over his shoulder making you laugh loudly. You were also kicking him to get free as you wanted to be back on solid ground and not facing it.

The strip club was pink and fluffy with a stage in the middle of it with the bar surrounding it. There was a dancer all in leather dancing around a pole and booths against the wall, some with tables and poles coming out of them so the dancers could dance on them. Apart from the dancers you were the only girl there. The rest were men in suits leering at the dancers throwing their money in balls so it could reach the stage. You remembered you were going to give Billy half the money you bought out that night like you agreed, courtesy of your dad and handed it to him before you both ordered your drinks and made yourself comfortable in some seats next to each other. Almost instantly a blonde dancer came over to him and asked if he wanted a lap dance. He accepted and he looked like he was enjoying himself. You enjoyed the show in front of you until a black haired dancer walked over and asked if you wanted one. You nodded. She was beautiful, you weren't sure if you wanted to be her or be on her. After she had finished you offered to buy her a drink which she happily accepted. You found out her name was Sapphire and she had been dancing for six months at this club. You also found out she was studying psychology in California.

“Is that guy your boyfriend?” Sapphire asked sipping her drink nodding her head to Billy who was standing behind you talking to the blonde dancer.

“No,” you smiled as you took a sip from your drink. “We're just friends.”

“The way he's staring at you says otherwise,” Sapphire giggled as she looked like she had an idea come over. She asked the barmaid if she had a pen and grabbed your hand and wrote something on it.

“I finish at two.” She smiled as she finished the last of her drink and you looked behind you as she walked off and she started whispering something to the dancer who was talking to Billy and they both walked off. You looked at what she wrote on your hand and it was an address of a bar and the time “2:30am”. Billy walked over to you looking pretty pleased with himself. You finished your drinks and to find your way to the next bar.

The morning after you woke up trying to recall the events of the night before. You felt stirring next to you and you find Sapphire who's name was actually Jessica, the dancer who you found out was called Ana cuddling Sapphire and Billy asleep next to Ana. All of you were still wearing the clothes from the night before. You saw Polaroids scattered on the floor next to your bed and there was one of you in the bathroom of the bar making out with Jessica as you sat on the sink. You realise it was Ana who took this photo. You reached over everyone and grabbed a cigarette packet which were on Billy's side of the bed and lit up a cigarette. You saw another one of you dancing on a table in your lingerie which you don't remember. There was also one of you talking to Ana next to a fire which was at a rooftop bar titled“Feeling At Home and Limitless – 24/12/84” with a small “B” next to it. You let out a small chuckle at this. You felt a stir coming from Billy's side of the bed as he sat up and lit up a cigarette himself.

“Merry Christmas.” You giggled quietly so you didn't wake up the other girls.

“Merry Christmas.” He sighed as he exhaled the smoke smiling at you.

#Stranger Things #Stranger Things 2 #ST2 #Billy Hargrove #Billy Hargrove x Reader #Stranger Things Fic #Billy Hargrove Fic #Billy Hargrove x You #Stranger Things x You #Stranger Things x Reader

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huntertales · 7 years

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Preview: Just Another Boring Morning. (Exile on Main Street S06E01)

Episode Summary: After Dean gives up hunting, Sam and the reader are mysteriously freed from his cage in hell. Sam finds Dean to tell him he must rejoin the fight. The reader, however, is hesitant to agree with the plan after seeing the life the man has made for himself. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Slight Sam x Reader) Word Count: 4,213.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

“I know you don’t want to do this anymore. And that’s okay. I’ve known for a while. Go to Lisa, Dean. Make yourself happy. Give yourself a family that deserves you. Leave this all behind and don’t look back. Promise me.”

Dean Winchester woke up one minute before the alarm went off. He had the nightmare again. The one where it brought him back to the fateful day in the cemetery just outside of the town that he had called home for just a few years. All before the chaos started, sending him down a spiraling path that seemed like it wasn't ever going to end. Or if it did by some lucky chance, he knew there was no way in hell it was going to end with a happily after after. The result would be nothing more than bloody and full of heartache. And it was.

The reoccurring nightmare that he had after retiring to bed last night was the aftermath of seeing his brother take the swan dive to the fiery pits of hell to have a permanent staycation with Michael and Lucifer. You had tried to save the day by doing a trick they’d seen before only once. You thought it’d work. If you wanted to take down Lucifer for a few minutes to get the rings and save the day, you stabbed yourself with the demon knife, thinking that it could have worked. If it did, Dean wouldn’t have had your last words still buzzing around in his head.

Maybe if they had the colt. Maybe if Sam didn't say yes. Dean thought about every possibility over the past year to see how he could have saved you. What he could have done to have the woman sleeping in the opposite side of the bed next to him to be you.

Dean wanted things to be different. He wanted to keep all the promises he made to you while trying his damndest to keep your stab wound from gushing more blood. He wanted to start a family of his own. He wanted to move to a someplace where nobody knew him and start over. He wanted to do all of this with you. But he made a promise that he swore to keep not to do anything stupid to bring you or his brother back from the dead. And he did. Not that it stopped him from he spent a few months glued to the computer or searching every single book he could find to break someone out of hell. The only thing that he hadn't done was sell his soul. Dean made a promise to you and his brother. And he wasn’t going to break it.

You and Sam wanted him to have the happy, apple pie kind of life. And the both of you agreed on a woman that Dean had spent one weekend with that he claimed to have been the best time of his life. (Until he got with you, of course.) But couldn't get out the woman of his head when he noticed her family had an extra member that he thought for a split second was his. Even though Ben wasn’t his biological son, there was no denying the kid was too much like him after he spent the afternoon at his eighth birthday party. This situation that had unfolded over the past year after saving the world from ending wasn't one that Dean would have expected, but it was better than anything he could imagine. For the first time in a very long time, Dean Winchester was happy. Quiet life, happy life.

Still...there were moments in his normal life the past he tried to bury would creep up on him without warning. A whiff of a scent or something that Lisa would say in which he had to stop for a moment and remind himself that you weren’t her. Sometimes he’d think that he saw you from the corner of his eye when talking to a friend. When he tried to help Ben with his homework and couldn’t understand a single question, Dean reached for his phone, thinking Sam would know an answer for this. But he couldn’t spot you in a crowd or talk to his brother. Because the both of you were in the cage. Damned for eternal misery. Dean could feel his grip around the comforter tighten as his mind wandered back to the last moment he had shared with you. He could feel your lips against his when you took your final breath, or how your hand loosened its grip on his jacket making him open his eyes to see that yours had already closed.

They say time healed all wounds. Dean was still waiting for that to be true.

The shrilling sound of the alarm clock made Dean jump slightly from his concentration on the ceiling as the radio began to play some tune he heard last week. He felt a soft and small hand place itself on top of his own, making him look at the woman and her warm smile that he was lucky enough to be greeted with every morning over the past year.

Lisa Braden was a saint. She had welcomed him inside her home after he showed up out of the blue one night. He gave no prior warning or even a phone call to announce his unexpected arrival that even took her a bit by surprise. But she didn’t push him away when he looked at her with a crooked smile and eyes full of sadness. Lisa was prepared for anything that Dean would end up putting her through over the first few months. It was like she was waiting for him, ready for whatever kind of comfort he might need. She was everything that he remembered from the weekend. And so much better than he could have imagined after meeting her again two years ago. She was the perfect woman he needed to share a normal life.

Lisa squeezed his hand as she gave him a comforting smile, asking him if he was all right after she noticed a discomforted look on his face that she’d seen plenty of times before. Dean smiled and nodded his head. She leaned over and softly kissed his hand. But the sweet moment the two of them shared only lasted a moment before she slipped out of bed to get ready for the day.

Dean usually got himself out of bed after she did and headed downstairs to make the pot of coffee while Lisa went to take a shower and fixed her a cup that be waiting for her. Two sugars and a dash of milk. too much and she didn't...Dean stopped himself as he let out a sigh. That's not how Lisa liked her coffee. He pushed himself up to a sitting position when he heard the water start to run from the bathroom. He slipped a hand underneath the pillow and pulled out a glossy picture that he kept hidden inside the pillow case. Dean's thumb ran over the smiling face that greeted him every morning for the past year. Today was no different.

The photograph that he kept hidden was of a moment of time from another life that he no longer lived with people that no longer were alive. It was of you and him. When you had started dating and hadn't even said "I love you" yet. Back when an angel named Castiel was a stranger and his brother was still alive. You sat on his lap with your arms wrapped around his neck with your lips stretched into a toothy grin, pure happiness in your eyes. You were probably laughing at something that he’d said one afternoon while you sat at Bobby’s desk in the library. Dean stared at you with like he was the luckiest guy in the world. He landed the chick that'd longed for years. And here she sat on his lap, looking beautiful as ever. That's what he thought whenever he looked at the picture. And how angry he got after seeing the flash come from the camera that Sam had been holding while hiding between the sliding doors that lead to the kitchen. It was the only thing from his past which he kept close and hidden from anyone.

Lisa washed the sheets twice a week on a Tuesday, that's when she got off early from work and did the deep cleaning. Maybe she knew about the photograph that he kept a secret. If she did, she never said anything about it. She never made a remark about his drinking, the nightmares, or the fact that he showed up on her doorstep just a few days after burying you. Lisa opened her arms and home to him, giving him everything that he wanted that you never could. A happy, apple pie life with a kid. What more could he ask for? Dean tucked back the photograph and got ready for the day ahead of him.

+ + +

Dean's morning started off like any normal routine; make breakfast for Ben, today it was scrambled eggs. He reached up to the top cabinet above the stove to grab the salt and sprinkled just enough the way that Ben liked before serving—and dodge the ever late Lisa as she grabbed her cup of coffee that was awaiting for her. Black with one sugar, the way that she liked it. Then there was heading off to work at construction with the pale yellow truck with a rattle sound that was making him grow suspicious about the engine. It resulted with an afternoon during the weekend spent with Ben, enjoying some quality time as he taught the kid about how to fix a problem that was typical with older cars. Then Sunday was spent at a barbeque with the neighbors, enjoying some beers and burgers, talking about the game last night.

All of these were things that Dean never had before. Mostly when he grabbed the salt it was for burning a corpse. When he had to work on some old engine it was the Impala, and the only person who would listen was Sam. You tried a few times only before you rolled your eyes and mumbled something about leaving it to you, boys. Exactly how Lisa does when she checks up on them with a smile on her face, over the moon to see her child and Dean getting along. And when Dean got the chance to kick back with a cold one, it was always from the navy green cooler with a cheap beer that was lukewarm and a little bit stale. But that was a life lived with two people that were alive once upon a time. This was his new chapter of his life. And he'd be a damned fool to let himself think about what was before when he had something better than loneliness of the open road to call his own in this home.

Just like the morning, Dean had a routine that he had grown used to when night fell. Lisa retired to bed just an hour ago, leaving him alone to enjoy the news for a bit while drinking some fancy scotch her sister got for them for Christmas. Dean looked out to the nighttime sight of the front lawn and took a sweep of the quiet road to see the same cars in the driveway and most porch lights already off, except for the Jefferson's. Dean winced at the arguement that would be waiting for the family. The still on porchlight meant that their teenage daughter Amy wasn't home yet from the party they didn't want her to go to tonight.

He pulled back the curtains and moved over to the front door, locking the deadbolt and made sure the door was tightly secure. He moved to the porch that Lisa used this afternoon. He picked out of the blinds to see that the backyard was quiet and peaceful. Except for the lawn. It looked like it could use a good mowing. Dean made a mental note to do that tomorrow. As he took a final sip of his drink and began walking over to the kitchen sink so he could place the empty glass in and leave it for tomorrow, Dean looked out the window much thought to see the neighbor’s lights were still on. Dean didn't think much about it as he reached to flick the light switch off. He looked out the window one last time, but the sight of it made him stop dead in his tracks

Dean could feel his skin break out into goosebumps at the sight that made him do a double take. He let out a sigh to see that it was his neighbor Sid, enjoying a glass of wine with his wife before they retired to bed themselves. The Winchester shook his head as he reached out to turn off the kitchen light, trying to forget the sight of you sitting at that table with a smile on your face.

Dean headed upstairs and quietly peeked inside Ben's room to see the kid was passed out. The man smiled to himself at the sight before he shut the door behind him, finally taking the last step of his nightly routine. Dean made his way to the master bedroom where his girlfriend was waiting for him. Lisa was a light sleeper, but she always waited for him until he came to bed with her to finally fall asleep.Dean slipped himself underneath the covers and draped his arms over her shoulders, Lisa rested herself into the crook of his neck as she laid her arm over his chest. The both of them got comfortable before finally settling down for the night to do it all over again tomorrow.

Dean let his arm fall off the bed and hang off the edge of the bed, making sure his loaded shotgun full of salt rounds and mason car full of holy water was always near. Every night for the past year he didn’t need it. But he could never be too safe.

He never knew what was lurking out there in the shadows. Maybe it was a monster waiting to kill him, or an old face that the man thought he’d never get the chance to see again. The face that he'd greet tomorrow morning that he kept in the pillowcase before moving it to the glove compartment next Tuesday when Lisa washed the sheets. Little did he know the face that he was greeted with every morning was much closer than he would ever know that came out every few months to watch his nightly routine. Watching him tuck the curtains and turn off the lights made you feel a little bit better at what kind of life he chose. It was better than any sort of normal life you could have given him.

+ + +

You were slipping...slipping into the never ending darkness. You outstretched out arm and begged for him to grab your hand to help you. And he did. But his mistake of helping you caused him to slip forward into the void. Both of began to free fall into the pit that seemed to have no end. You could feel the scream that had been building in your throat about to come loose as your body felt weightless in the air as his brother’s face began to become smaller and smaller. You opened your mouth to call out his name one more time—

You could feel yourself inhaling a deep breath as your eyelids ripped open, an overwhelming feeling like you were falling caused you to break away from the dream you were having again. The cotton sheets clung to your backside when a thin layer of sweat broke out into your skin from the overwhelming nightmare that felt real. You took in steady deep breaths as you stared at the ceiling, giving yourself a few seconds to realize that you were awake. You laid there for a moment as you placed a hand on your head, trying to collect your scattered thoughts as your heart pounded roughly against your ribcage. You pushed back some of your matted hair that stuck to your forehead from how much you had reacted. Nightmare...it was just a nightmare. The sounds of running water caused you to break your concentration on a crack in the wall and moved your head to the closed door, figuring out that's where the noise was coming from. The paranoia and fear that you had felt just seconds ago began to come creeping back as you examined the tacky interior of the room and faded wallpaper. You began to wonder for a second of where the hell you were. But the sight of scattered clothes across the floor and duffel bags sitting next to the door made you realize what was going on and where you went last night after taking up the offer from Gwen to have another beer. You slowly pushed yourself to a sitting position and slipped out of bed, grabbing the familiar looking flannel shirt from the ground and slipped it over your barley naked body, just in time for the shower to turn off. You stretched out your arms over your head and walked over to the dresser where you spotted a few of your persona items you took off last night before retiring to bed. You reached out to grab the necklace and put it on for a moment, your fingers clutched the amulet tight as you stared at yourself in the mirror for a moment. The bathroom door opened a moment later to see him fresh out the shower, dressed in nothing more than a towel wrapped around his waist. You locked eyes with his reflection in the mirror when you felt his hands wrap around your hips, his fingers reaching for the buttons of the shirt that went missing off the floor.

Your eyes fluttered shut when you felt his hand softly brush away a few loose strands of hair so he could press a tender kiss to the crook of your neck as he whispered good morning in your ear. You inhaled a deep breath to get a good whiff of his body wash, making things feel more natural as you lead yourself for a second to believe the man holding you is someone else. Sort of like how you have over the past year. And for a second it makes you feel a little less guilty as your eyes slowly opened up once again to meet the reflection in the mirror of a smiling Sam.

The calm demeanor you were greeted with on this sunny morning was far different from the man you had witnessed in action last night while hunting down a coven of witches on the outskirts of town. Your lips stretched into a small smile when you stepped away from him, quickly tucking the necklace so it was hidden as you began to make your way to the shower. Neither one of you discussed the matters that went on last night. The topic of conversation was the call that Sam got early this morning from his grandfather about another possible hunt not too far from here after Samuel got a whiff of a possible djinn crawling around.

You mentioned that you wouldn't take too long to get ready and make a playful remark that you hoped he left you some hot water. You stopped in the doorway, expecting the man to look over at you and give you a smirk, saying something that you shouldn't have snoozed. Instead he ignored you by giving a shrug as he got himself ready for the day ahead for the both of you.

You didn't know what you were expecting from this kind of behavior that had been going on over the past year since coming back from the cage. You stepped into the bathroom and shut the door behind you, giving you some privacy. You walked over to the mirror and wiped away the fog, making you stare at your lonesome reflection, who now looked sad and full of guilt for what you did last night again. Both of you had gotten exactly what you wanted. But you felt like crap for launching yourself at him when the feeling hit you. He was always kind, knew the right words to say to make you feel better. But he wasn’t Dean. Not that it mattered to you that night when you saw the man sitting in the kitchen with Lisa and Ben, happy. More happy than you'd ever seen him in your entire life.

Sam was right. You couldn't have walked up to the front door and told him the good news that you were alive. All though you wanted to live your life again like how you talked about, it wasn’t right. Dean was trying to move on without you. He got out. It’d be selfish of you to take that away from him for a chance that might never come. Not Not that you contemplated each time you drove and watched him do his nightly routine before retiring to bed with Lisa. You went back to whatever motel you were crashing at to crawl into bed with Sam, continuing on the ritual that you swore would have stopped after the first time. It was out of a moment of weakness, you took the younger Winchester’s kindness and comforting to a whole other level that you would have never expected. But he was acting so much like Dean. One thing lead to another...

You did something you regretted instantly the next morning when the memories came flooding back. You told yourself you were never going to do it again. You were never going to see Dean, you were never going to do this. But you did. The morning after, like today, you would stare at your reflection in the mirror and come to terms with the guilt at what you had done. You felt horrible for using Sam the way you have to fill the void in your heart for someone you could never have again. And each morning you would take a vow to never do it again. You were never going to stoop so low and do something like that. Like how you have been saying for the past year...and still, you knew you were never going to change. Not yet, at least.

They say time heals all wounds. You were still waiting for that to be true.

[Next Part]

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oraculideluna · 6 years

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Verses - mobile link

Main

Full information can be found here. Luna is played heavily canon divergent after the events of Altissia.

Afterlife (wip)

During the events in Altissia, being stabbed by Ardyn and using her life force to save Noctis, Luna dies, but she doesn’t pass on to the afterlife. She exists as a spirit of sorts, still sentient, aware. She exists between worlds, though she can manifest visually for a time, she can speak, and (as seen within the game) she can still even use some of her magic. Her continued existence, however, is far more limited than she was when alive, and though she can speak and use magic, when she does so on the physical plane, it drains her abilities greatly, and she is forced back into the space between worlds.

Final Fantasy VII (available on request)

Luna and Ravus are the children of politicians with strong anti-Shin-Ra ideologies. They’ve spent years speaking out against the use of the Lifestream as an energy source and have garnered a rather large following around them. The Fleuret name carries quite some clout.

When Luna is 17, an attack on her parents’ lives leaves both of them dead. The attack is quiet and away from public eyes, and Luna and Ravus highly suspect Shin-Ra are the ones behind it. But there is little proof yet, and before they can start to amass any sort of theory, thinly veiled threats start coming from from President Shinra himself. (More on this later, but the President’s got a pretty heavy hand in keeping these two so quiet.)

Blackmail is so intense, and so dirty, Luna (at least) has almost no choice but to accept the forced position within the Shin-Ra company under the President’s watchful eye. It is made to look as if she is there willingly, much to the dissent and probably suspicion of many of her parents’ supporters. At first, many most likely believe her to be there by force somehow, but years pass and she is still there, and most come to accept that it is probably by choice.

Most of what she does keeps her from the public eye, staying within the company confines and idling through various departments. Throughout the years (between the time of Crisis Core and FFVII), Luna has worked as an assistant of sort for weapons development (as more of a liaison), investigative affairs (as something of a secretary, never quite getting involved with the Turks), and briefly in space exploration, until it is decided that her skills are better used in the politics she grew up in. She is then assigned a PR position in the Urban Development department to promote ideas of Neo-Midgar.

Her role within the company now sees her travelling to various cities under the watch of armed guards to keep her safe while she delivers speeches and performs all the social niceties to try and garner support for the new city. She’s encountered by a lot of hostility along the way, which she certainly understands.

(Plot dependent) After the murder of President Shinra, Luna is approached by Rufus to continue her work with them, or she takes the ensuing chaos within the company to slip away and make her way into disguises to join the fight against Shinra.

This could be a way into Avalanche and other resistance groups, and opens the way for plotting.

Final Fantasy VIII

Luna is the Duchess of the Dollet Dukedom. Growing up, she learned the ins and outs of running a town whose primary economy is through tourism, and the downswings that come with major storms, off season, and the inverse effect of economic depression during war on the town. She is a woman of politics and a just leader for the city, and she will often find ways to shoulder more of the burden of the difficult times than to put it on the people of the city.

As a distant descendant of the Centra, Luna will go to the Centra Ruins for charity work. At a point post-game, while Luna is there, another Sorceress dies and it passes to Luna. With her family’s status and money, she is quickly and quietly assigned a Knight and sent to Esthar to have an Odine bangle created for her. This upheaval causes much distress in her life, and she works through the anxiety, nightmares, and fear slowly to learn to accept her role as Sorceress, as well as to slowly broach the subject to the public.

Final Fantasy X

Luna is the daughter of a high-ranking clergy member in the Bevelle temple, and is in line to one day become High Priestess to Yevon. Initially slated to be a summoner upon Sin’s return after the Calm (during the events of X), many of those who knew what the pilgrimage ends in discouraged her from making the journey. Though the decision was difficult, and she felt it her duty to try and fight Sin, she listened to them in the end, and has continued her studies and training in Bevelle to one day take her place as needed. She serves as a healer to any who need aid, and she can perform ritual sendings.

She can often be found travelling around Spira, not only to perform sendings and to offer her services as healer, but also to intermingle and meet the residents of Spira. She feels it is part of her duty to visit as many cities, towns, and villages as she can, yet also enjoys meeting people in the hopes of making some new friends.

Luna is also an avid fan of Blitzball, and will attend matches as her time permits. She doesn’t know how to play, and feels she wouldn’t be coordinated enough to really get the moves down, but she loves to watch. (She claims the Bevelle Bells to be her favorite team, though they’ve long since retired; after that, she often finds the Kilika Beasts to be entertaining and fierce opponents.)

During the events of X-2, Luna has left Bevelle in the wake of its fall and continues her journey around Spira to perform sendings as needed while trying to find footing in the aftermath of the fall of Yevon.

Final Fantasy XII (available on request)

Luna was the princess of a seaside kingdom bordering the ever-expanding Archadian Empire. Theirs was a peaceful kingdom whose primary focus was the import and export of goods from across the ocean, including from distant parts of Rozarria where travel by sea was nearly as common as travel by air.

Though surrounded by the comforts of royal life, illness swept through the kingdom and killed many within, including her mother. The ports were temporarily shut down and all trade was closed until the plague was gone and the city cleaned. Luna was only about eight when this happened.

When she is older, they are once again attacked, this time by the Archadian Empire. This attack results in the loss of many lives, including Luna’s father. (Age here can be plotted.)

Terms of peace are offered thus: The Empire will cease hostilities so long as the kingdom is incorporated under Empire rule, and Luna would be married to the eldest Solider brother. With no choice but to accept or risk the loss of more of their people, the terms of surrender are accepted, and Luna is wed into the Solidor family.

(Plot dependent) In the wake of her husband’s murder, one of two things can be plotted to happen: Luna remains bound to the Solidor family and stays on as counsel and for political matters regarding her kingdom; or, her marriage into the family is then passed to Vayne in the hopes of one day producing an heir.

From here, Luna finds an escape within the resistance and joins the fight against the Empire.

Final Fantasy XIII (available on request)

Luna was born into a wealthy family whose name carried influence among others in the city of Palumpolum. When necessary, they were often sought after to influence a vote or draw attention to a political matter. At a young age, Luna became interested in learning the politics her parents were so invested in, and began pursuing a career in it while in school. At the age of sixteen, she began working in the offices as an intern until she finished her schooling, whereupon she received a full-time job. She worked hard and developed her own name within Cocoon’s government, following in the path of her parents’ name and the clout it carried.

As she grew into her role, Luna worked closely with Cid Raines and began to see how corrupt the government was under Fal’Cie rule. She joined his Cavalry and worked undercover to try and bring about the downfall of the Fal’Cie. Unbeknownst to her, along the way, Cid became a l’cie and used her in his plans to bring about the fall of Cocoon and the rise of Orphan.

Later, when Cid is turned to crystal and then revived, in the moments of lucidity when he asks Rygdea to kill him, he also asks hm to keep Luna safe and get her away from Barthandelus. After killing Cid, Rygdea keeps his promise and helps Luna get away. Together, they, along with Hope’s father Bartholomew, begin construction on the Academy where one day Hope begins his studies into the Paradoxes.

During the events of XIII-2, Luna can be found at the Academy. Her work primarily consists of public relations and taking care of the business side of things, but she spends what spare time she has researching Paradoxes alongside Hope to help in any way she can.

After the capturing of Hope and the fall of the Academy, Luna travels for a long time, traversing worlds in the hopes she can help figure out how to bring the world back to normal. Her travels result in few answers, but she researches many other phenomena, like the unborn children never growing, and the minds of the children who are stuck in young bodies. Eventually, she finds the Order who intend to use Vanille, and Luna becomes one of her protectors.

Kingdom Hearts

Luna doesn’t remember the destruction of Eos; she only remembers waking up in an unknown place, another world entirely, her family, friends, and even her enemies nowhere to be found. It’s explained to her where she is and what’s been happening, and while she understands what they tell her, she refuses to believe that Eos is destroyed and, quite possibly, everyone she knows gone. Feeling determined, she sets out to find them.

It isn’t learned until later that the Scourge she healed people of on Eos is another form of darkness that carried over with her into these other worlds, and that her heart has been heavily tainted with it. Each time she had healed someone, she was taking in their darkness in exchange for her light. There is still light in her heart, but continued healing could eventually result in a complete loss of it - though she believes that, so long as she believes and has hope, the light will never truly expire. She is warned, though, that if she should be completely overtaken, she could become a powerful puppet to those in control of the darkness.

Due to the amount of darkness residing within her, she can create weak portals between worlds using it with the understanding that she consumes a bit of darkness each time she does, giving it just a little more strength.

Throughout her travels between worlds, she becomes invested in the war between darkness and light, and will offer to heal those in dire need of help, knowing she does so at great personal risk, quite possibly to her very life. She also uses her magic for healing injuries, and fends of Heartless as best as she can with her trident, knowing that, without a keyblade, she is only temporarily driving them back.

Dissidia (During Dissidia NT) (available on request)

After the fall of Insomnia, Luna is weighed down with a heavy heart and a heavier burden: The ring of Lucis. She keeps it safely on her person as she treks to Altissia where she will give the ring to Noctis, allowing none to see it, none to know that it exists outside the ruins of Insomnia. She takes refuge in unassuming locations, and this fateful night finds her in a small inn off the main roads. Sleep is swift, though troubled, and riddled with nightmares.

When she wakes up, the inn is gone and she is in a place she does not recognize. A vast, dry land stretches before her, the earth cracked and littered only with rocks and perhaps the occasional hint of green struggling against the sunlight. Instinct has her searching for any hint as to where she is, though it isn’t until she is approached by someone who explains what’s happening that she starts to get any answers. (I have written that Cecil is the one who finds her, though this can be plotted differently.)

The summoning of her by Cosmos to bring her here begins the process of taking away her memories, yet what remains fades away the closer she gets to Cosmos. Soon, she is left with nothing but an imprint of who she is. Mannerisms, speech patterns, feelings, things ingrained so deeply through her life are all that remain. This causes a growing bitterness in Luna, an anger she keeps hidden away.

Plot dependent: Luna switches to the side of Chaos, most likely temporarily. In the wake of her anger taking her over, she leaves Cosmos’s champions to join Chaos. She cannot reconcile what has been done to her, to everyone who has been brought here, and though she is unwaveringly loyal, she feels as if they are all being exploited against their will, memories of their lives dangled before them as incentive to fight a war they have no personal stake in. Eventually, she will realize both sides have done the same thing, summoned people away from their homes to fight for these warring gods, and will go back to the side of Cosmos.

She can also be talked out of switching, if someone speaks to her and convinces her otherwise.

Mad Max

In a world torn apart by disease, Luna is one of few who is born pure and untouched by the sickness. As a child, she remains immune, never succumbing to the illness, staying as healthy as one can in such a world. The small bit of what has been labeled ‘Paradise’, Luna is sequestered away by The Chancellor, kept out of the eye of the people, the world, and the sun. She is protected and fed promises that her birth is a sign that she is going to help heal the world, that she must be kept safe and hidden away or others hearing of her purity will try to kidnap her. She is only allowed out once every 28 nights, under the light of the full moon, presented to the people as something to be praised.

For years, she believed the lies, clinging desperately to the Chancellor and the safety he promised her. Yet as she got older, the pull of the outside world called to her, and she began trying to escape. Her first several attempts failed, resulting in harsher punishments each time, until she is bound by a leather and chain collar to the wall of her room. The Chancellor promised her that it was for her own good, yet hatred began festering in her heart.

Eventually, with the help of her bodyguard Crowe, who betrays the Chancellor, she escapes. From here, it’s plot dependent.

Down the road, she comes to find out that The Chancellor was intending to sell her temporarily off to the highest bidders for her to bear them healthy children. Until this point, she has no idea of what he has in store for her, since his lies consist almost entirely of telling her that she will simply purify the world.

Kingsman

Off the coast of Wales in the Irish Sea is a small island kingdom known as Tenebrae, where the Fleuret royal family has lived for generations. With flourishing seaports, they are a hub for fishing and seafood exports, and carry with them a strong economic voice in the United Kingdom. In a bid for power, a commercial fishing company has been trying to partner with the Tenebraean royal family in an attempt to raise taxes on use of the ports. The royal family has refused for many years.

Using hired agents, the royal family is attacked with the intent to threaten them into compliance, but the King and Queen end up killed in the attack. Ravus is taken by the hired agents and fed lies about the political happenings within the kingdom. Luna, age twelve, was saved by members of the Kingsmen, who had intel that Tenebrae would be attacked and were undercover as public relations assistants to keep an eye on the family.

Knowing that the attackers may not stop until the entire family is dead and can no longer claim access to the small kingdom, the Kingsmen keep Luna under their care while she finishes school and proceeds on to college. Being exposed to even the surface of who they are, Luna quickly develops an interest and spends her extra time training to hopefully join their ranks one day. She learns combat, expands on what sword fighting she’d learned from the royal swordmaster, takes dance and gymnastics. At eighteen years old, when it comes time to go through their intensive application process, she gets to the final four, but doesn’t make it further.

However, she also took a great interest in their technology, and has been working under Guinevere, an agent who has been in Research and Development for several years. After not making it past the final four candidates, Luna finds a home working behind the scenes, assisting in creating the technology and gadgetry the agents use in the field.

At twenty-two years old, Luna finishes her bachelor’s in Information Technology and a minor in Weapons Engineering, and is also graduated to the role of Guinevere on the retiring of the previous one. While Luna doesn’t head the R&D department, she has come to have a large presence in the creation and testing of new designs of weaponry and information gathering. She can be used as a field agent when necessary, usually for recon missions.

Even now, years after taking on her role within the Kingsmen, Luna doesn’t know where her brother is, and keeps a constant eye on the state of Tenebrae, determined to see it in the hands of someone who will care for it as her family did, and not in the hands of the corporation still vying for political access.

Detroit: Become Human (WIP)

Luna and her brother, Ravus, grew up in London as the heirs to Fleuret Robotics, newly founded by their parents and passed to them in the wake of their parent’s deaths. Working with some of the best that England had to offer, they developed artificial intelligence at a steady pace, improving and pushing the boundaries of what was capable of their technology. They became the first company in England to develop a functioning robot.

However, their science is limited, and they can’t seem to break through the walls surrounding artificial intelligence. At best, they’ve created an ideal model of android for menial tasks, though it lacks the grace that comes with the more intelligent models created in America and Japan. Luna moves from England to Detroit and meets up with Elijah Kamski to try and work out a merger between their two companies. Eventually, CyberLife absorbs Fleuret Robotics, and they become a subsidiary that works mostly in the design and creation of the android models, as well as basic programming. Luna works more on the PR front, and becomes a spokeswoman that heads the more public side of business, attending press conferences and social events to promote CyberLife.

Luna helps design the early AX, PL, and EM models of android. She assists in making sure the upgrades are stable and the bodies will be suited to daily wear and tear without damage to the internal components and infrastructure, but ultimately, she does best when she’s on the publicity front lines. Though cybernetics and artificial intelligence have created a strong impact on society and are becoming more and more of a common occurrence, there is still strong bias against the implementation of androids for common use in the workforce. Luna spearheads many campaigns for awareness and open-mindedness, but has been on the receiving end of violence and death threats. Appearances are not made without a squad of security to protect her, usually one to stay close, and several others to intersperse among a crowd to keep a more distant watch.

At first, Luna strongly disagrees with the militaristic use of androids. To her, it’s a slippery slope of countries creating vast armies that will ultimately leave behind large piles of machines needing to be recycled, resulting in an endless loop of creation and destruction that, worst case, could cause the downfall of even talks of peace between countries. Eventually, she realizes that, so long as they’re regulated, android military units would cut down on the loss of human life in both domestic and international crime. Further on down the road, after the events at Jericho, Luna retires that way of thinking, realizing that sentient AI is as human as humans are.

#mobile tag: verses #(posting here so I can link in the description of my blog for mobile users)#° Long post

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thedeadshotnetwork · 6 years

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To Save 'LA Weekly,' Journalists Want to Destroy It The funeral was held last Friday on the sidewalk in front of the LA Weekly offices in Culver City. Black-clad mourners gathered around a shiny white casket to read eulogies through a megaphone, the smell of smoke from nearby fires hanging in the air. The crowd of about two-dozen, many of them former freelancers or staffers for the LA Weekly —myself included—had gathered to pay our respects not to a person, but to a newspaper we once loved. “ LA Weekly is a place that gave people a chance,” Jeff Weiss, a former music columnist who contributed to the paper for a decade, told the crowd. “It gave artists a chance that might not have been heard. It gave a voice to the voiceless, not a voice to power.” Like Weiss, I also got my start at the LA Weekly , where I was hired as an editorial assistant in January 2013. Reporting was not in my job description, but I eventually bugged my editors enough that they gave me a chance to write. Maybe it was because I wanted to do the kinds of assignments nobody else would: Waking up at 5 AM to go to a sober rave, Biking 17 miles to the Emmys, getting drunk and then sticking an IV in my arm the next morning to cure a hangover. I was happy to be a guinea pig in the name of journalism if it meant landing a byline. By the end of 2014, I had my first cover story. For me and countless others, writing for the LA Weekly wasn’t just a dream job or a professional launching pad, but a civic duty that gave us unparalleled access to just about anything and anyone we could think to write about. Weiss was one of the organizers of the mock funeral, which was held in response to the sale of the LA Weekly to a mysterious shell company called Semanal Media, which two weeks ago laid off nine of the paper’s 13 editorial employees (I was no longer with the company, but the layoffs did include my former editors). The new company did not fully disclose its investors’ identities or lay out a plan for the future of the newspaper, which led to speculation that it was either highly incompetent, part of a larger plot to use the historically left-leaning paper as a conservative mouthpiece—several of the new owners have donated money to the Republican party—or some combination of both. “The LA Weekly as we know it is dead,” Katie Bain, a former senior music writer who I’d met years ago while working at the paper, told me. “I think it died last Wednesday with the layoffs. Not only because nine people lost their jobs, but because 40 years of direction and ideas and reputation were suddenly shifted, and that to me, means the paper is over as we knew it.” To Bain and Weiss, LA Weekly ’s death isn’t just speculative or metaphorical. Rather, they and the other writers who organized the funeral want to make certain of it. It may seem counterintuitive, but in order to save the publication that helped launch their careers, they believe they’ve first got to kill it. They’re aiming to do that through an aggressive boycott campaign that seeks to tank the paper before it has a chance to survive under its new ownership. The vengeance plot has them targeting individual advertisers and pressuring them to withdraw their business from the newspaper. So far, the tactic seems to be working: Last week, the paper canceled its annual Sips Sweets event, just days after vendors including Amoeba Music and Angel City Brewery and restaurants such as Otium, The Pikey, and The Roger Room pulled out. “The goal is to make it so toxic for them here that they have no choice but to sell it back. We want to basically take their legs out from under them,” said Bain. “Obviously we’re dealing with businessmen. The swiftest way to hit them is with money and that's the language they understand.” Of course, the organizers of the boycott can’t take all of the credit for alienating readers, advertisers, and freelancers—the new owners of LA Weekly have done plenty of that on their own. Statements they made to the LA Times , in which they disparaged LA’s cultural scene and a tweet in which they suggested they planned to use unpaid contributors, drew outrage on social media. It wasn't just that they botched interviews with other media outlets, but apparently also didn’t know how to manage their own website and Facebook page, both of which have been hijacked by former staffers: The funeral was live-streamed on LA Weekly ’s Facebook page and a blog post pointing fingers at the new owners is still featured on the site today. (Semanal Media’s operations manager Brian Calle did not respond to my request for comment.) “It’s really hard to tell how evil they are,” former food editor Katherine Spiers, who was laid off last month and supports the boycott, told me at the funeral. “How evil can you be when you’re fumbling at every turn?” Watch: Adding to the massive clusterfuck, Hillel Aron, the only staff writer who was spared from the layoffs, was promoted to interim editor in chief on Friday—and then abruptly suspended from his post on Tuesday, when Spin dug up and published some of his offensive tweets. When I talked to him on the phone on Sunday morning, before he was suspended, he was the first to admit that his new bosses badly botched the transition, creating a PR nightmare in which he’s become a primary target. “I think they've made numerous mistakes and were very naive in doing what they did and thinking that we could actually function with that few employees,” he said. To him, like many outsiders looking in, the mass layoffs “didn't make any sense. There’s no excuse for it.” (The backlash from the sale of the paper has been so messy—complete with a frantic, typo-laden email that was widely mocked after being leaked to a reporter—that I can’t help but imagine it’s the kind of story Aron would go after, were he not personally living it.) “Honestly, I’m impressed at how effective the boycott has been. I think they’ve done a really great job,” said Aron. He added that he believes the outrage of former writers and laid-off staffers would be better spent on a more outwardly political cause. “I wonder if they could maybe put this energy into getting rid of [Orange County Republican Representative] Darrell Issa or organizing voters.” But to many of the organizers and supporters of the boycott, fighting to save—by way of killing—an alternative weekly is inherently political, particularly at a time when the media is under attack. While President Trump leads a national crusade against so-called “fake news,” conservative billionaires like the Koch brothers—who last month invested in Meredith Corp. , which owns Time magazine—have been quietly taking stake in media properties and consolidating them. Last month, Gothamist owner Joe Ricketts—a conservative Trump donor—abruptly shuttered the entire chain of local blogs in a move that was largely viewed as retaliation for unionizing . (I’d been working for LAist at the time.) “It’s this concerning aspect of what we’re seeing with a few other media companies right now is that we don't actually know where the money’s coming from. There’s not much transparency,” April Wolfe, the former film critic for the LA Weekly who was laid off last month, told me in a phone call. “The boycott campaign for me specifically, and this might be different for Jeff [Weiss], is to get people to pay attention to their local media and what is happening to it and to be their own media watchdogs,” Wolfe said. “Because journalists have been sounding the alarms for a very long time and it’s hard to get people to care about things.” Wolfe hopes the #BoycottLAWeekly hashtag, which has already been retweeted by the likes of Mark Ruffalo and Ava Duvernay, whom Wolfe profiled in an LA Weekly cover story last year, will help mobilize people for an admittedly unsexy cause. But not every former LA Weekly contributor is down with the boycott, and particularly not those who have watched layoffs, cutbacks, and ownership changes at the newspaper for decades. Jonny Whiteside, a former calendar editor who was laid off in 2009 and has been contributing to the paper’s music and calendar sections for longer than I’ve been alive, says the paper is no worse now than it was under previous owners. He sees the boycott as a grossly naive and hypocritical form of overreaction. “In journalism, you know how it works: they clean house, it’s routine,” he told me in a phone call, identifying himself as “a freaking anarchist” without a political bent. “You can’t rail against the ownership. It’s just stupid because, yeah, they’re all bastards. This is America. Your corporate parent is a bastard,” he said. “You can either exist and, you know, try to further your career or spin your wheels and make a jerk of yourself.” Whiteside, like several other veteran LA Weekly Writers including Lina Lecaro , has no plans to stop writing for the paper under its new ownership—which is a key demand of the boycott. I get why Whiteside is jaded. I survived a round of LA Weekly layoffs during what couldn't have been more than my second week on the job. There’s something about watching people who are twice your age, have double the experience, and kids at home to feed, get canned that feels like a punch to the gut. The blow came even harder when, not even a year after that, the writer whose work I most admired was let go. The position, one I had wondered if I might someday get to fill, was eliminated. But what happened at LA Weekly two weeks ago—wiping out nearly every editorial staffer with no transition team in place—feels entirely different and wholly unprecedented. Based on what we know (and still don’t) about the new owners, including that head honcho Calle formerly led a right wing think tank and once appeared in what may have been a Russian propaganda film , I think we have every right to question their motives—not just as former contributors or laid-off staffers, but as people who care about what happens to our city, who reports on it, and why. While the boycott appears to be picking up steam on social media, it remains to be seen what its organizers will do if they actually succeed at convincing the new owners to sell the paper back to them. At that point, will their boycott efforts have sabotaged their own master plan to revive the paper under new ownership? “I actually had this thought,” Rebecca Haithcoat, a former LA Weekly music writer and one of the boycott’s organizers, told me. “I was like, what’s going to happen if we do get it back and people are like, ‘Wait, we took [out] our advertising, so wait, now we should do it again?’” Weiss is ready to cross that bridge when he gets to it. For now, he’s got LA Weekly advertisers to call. “We have to keep going, and we will. And we we will win. I promise you we will win because I’m crazier than they are and you guys care more than everyone else does and we will win this shit,” he said, standing in front of the open casket at the funeral. “I will never stop.” December 13, 2017 at 11:35AM

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