#half the conflicts were just their two older siblings coming to crash the party like | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bigskydreaming · 3 years ago

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Okay, so you know “Justice League meets Batman’s kids, who they’d previously been unaware existed” AUs?

So picture that.....but this time, instead of them just having no knowledge of any of these other Gotham vigilantes at all....the Batkids all migrate to various cities as they get older and become known as their protectors - Dick in Bludhaven, Tim in San Francisco, Cass in Hong Kong, etc....

Meaning they’re all established figures, the Justice League are aware of them as solo local heroes who stick to their cities and so they just don’t interact with them much if at all, or else some are members of team lineups but are particularly vague about their histories or life outside of the team’s adventures....

So the big reveal isn’t that they become aware of all these other Gotham vigilantes all at once....its that some big conflict or whatever requires a huge team up of all available heroes, and in the aftermath, they figure out that like.....despite being known as solo heroes who work alone or loners outside of their team settings, 80% of these heroes all not only seem to already know each other, they seem to be related.

And so naturally they all turn to Batman, who has profiles on every known hero and they thus figure had researched these individuals too and just never mentioned this little detail, and they’re like, “Did you know about this?”

And then Nightwing turns to him too, arms crossed and is like, “Yeah Dad, did you know about this?”

And the infamous Red Hood is all: “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have never met any of these people before in my life. Lives? Whatever.”

And then Red Robin moodily grates out “I have no siblings.” Since he’s nursing a grudge since Dick and Jason broke into his apartment the night before and replaced all his custom Red Robin gear with Darkwing Duck merchandise and his vengeance will be swift and also totally disproportionate because things escalate quickly in this family, that’s true in every universe.

Cass meanwhile has deftly skewered Jason’s lie by walking over to him and brazenly patting down the man with many many guns with no fear whatsoever. He squawks and futilely attempts to bat her hands away as she riffles through his many pockets, but he doesn’t seem shocked, just annoyed. Eventually, she pulls away and triumphantly reveals a box of Hello Kitty themed band-aids.

“So these are yours then? Just for you?” Black Bat asks smugly. Red Hood squints at the box.

“What the fuck? How long have those been in my jacket? Why are those in my jacket? Did you freaking plant them in my jacket just on the offchance you could at some point in the distant future use them at my expense?”

Black Bat frowns, puzzled. “Yes?”

“Oh come on, Dead Hood,” Spoiler says with an exaggerated toss of her head meant to convey she’s rolling her eyes beneath her own mask. She skips her way across the room to Black Bat and then drapes herself languidly all over the smaller woman. Who in turn doesn’t so much as twitch beneath the sudden added mass as Spoiler holds out her hand towards the box of band-aids.

“One please. I have a boo-boo,” she says with easy familiarity straight into the intimidating cowl of Black Bat. Only then does she deign to finish her train of thought with Red Hood.

“I mean seriously, are you saying you don’t have potential blackmail set-ups, pre-rigged releases of incriminating material, and a random assortment of traps, pratfalls and mortifying scenarios in place for the express purpose of being able to humiliate any and all of your siblings at any given moment, without any need for additional prep time?”

“Is this true, Little Wing?” Nightwing whirls on the larger Red Hood with a faux-scandalized gasp. The founder and leader of the Titans, formerly the Teen Titans, renowned for his stratagems and calm competence when directing squads of supers in the heat of battle while he keeps pace with nothing more than naturally acquired acrobatics and a utility belt that apparently uses the same technology as Wonder Woman’s invisible jet....now appears to be....staggering with the back of his hand pressed to his forehead, moaning about how he felt....faint?

What is happening right now, several dozen superheroes want to know. Is this a drill? Are they supposed to be checking for signs of a mental ambush from undetected psychic saboteurs? Did they all hit their heads at the exact same time and are now experiencing some kind of shared mass concussion?

Look, that wouldn’t be the weirdest thing to ever happen on the Watchtower.

“Have I failed you so utterly?” The veteran child hero bemoans with a dramatic twirl - that when contrasted with his stern demeanor of a mere ten minutes ago - makes the fears of telepathic infiltration seem less paranoia and more....concerningly probable. “Did you learn nothing from me? Did you learn nothing from B?”

He stops and jabs a finger up at the sky. “Quick, everyone! What is the very first rule of Living While Batty?”

As if by rote, over a half a dozen voices chime in from all over the room, causing various heroes to jump. Spooked by yet more and more vigilantes joining in some kind of mass recitation like they and they alone have some kind of clue what the hell is going on and everyone else just hadn’t been invited to the party. Which is just rude, honestly. Nobody likes feeling like they weren’t invited to the party. Not even superheroes.

“If you’re not going to bother preparing for every possible contingency and at least six impossible ones, you might as well just stay in bed.”

Even the Red Hood joins in the Illuminati chant or Cub Scout pledge or demonic ritual or whatever the fuck that just was, though his slumped and exasperated posture gives away every hint of sulkiness his headgear otherwise would have kept safely hidden. He’s surprisingly more...expressive, than most who’d only known of him by reputation had expected him to be. The day continues to yield surprises.

“Of fucking course I do,” he growls out, snatching the box from Black Bat. She doesn’t even fight to hold onto it, just lets it go with a knowing smirk. “I wasn’t surprised by the idea of it, I was just surprised she bothered with such a weak effort. Like yeah whatever, actually those could be mine. I use those all the time at home. So what?”

He aggressively yanks one of the band-aids out of the box, fumbles with the peel-off strips with one hand and he roughly rolls up the sleeve of his jacket with the other. Then just slaps it on his forearm and raises said appendage high, showing it off this way and that. “See?”

“Oh yeah, for sure,” Signal drawls from the other side of the room, nodding his head approvingly. “Totally convincing. Nice job walking that one back, you really showed them.”

Red Hood’s head snaps in his direction with ominous intent. “Watch it, Day-Glo.”

Signal just snorts.

“Yeah, like I’m gonna take constructive criticism on my name and costume from a dude who’s spent the last several years calling himself Red HOOD while running around in a freaking HELMET.”

“Its not meant to be literal, you fucking pedant.”

“So wait, its not literally a helmet? Huh, does it at least protect your head literally, or just like...symbolically? Like if Bane were to clock you across the head, would your concussion just be a metaphor? What’s the treatment protocol for a metaphorical concussion? Fluids, bedrest and a philosophical prescription of two chapters of Chicken Soup for the Soul as needed?”

“Laugh it up, KC and the Sunshine Band,” Red Hood bats back. “You just got yourself disinvited from Thursday night’s poker game.”

Signal just grins and folds his arms over his chest cockily. “Please. You’ve been looking for an excuse to ban me for weeks, cuz you know until you can prove I’m using my ghost vision to cheat, you can’t actually bring suit against me for it in Family Court.”

“That, and also Family Court isn’t a real thing, you toddler. Stop validating Wing-a-ding-ding’s obsession with Shitty TV Nostalgia and just call it that thing where Oracle traps us all in a room until we settle our latest fight without anyone getting stabbed.”

“Yeah, but like, say that five times fast,” Spoiler pipes up. “Its just not practical. Family Court’s way easier.”

“Says the one who’s not even in our fucking family.”

“And yet I grace you all with my sublime presence anyway,” she blows a kiss at him, beatifically unbothered. “You’re welcome.”

The Red Hood scoffs and rounds on his heel, zeroing in on Batwoman in the far corner.

“Hey Auntie B, my siblings are all dead to me and I just helped stop an alien invasion so I deserve nice things like a fun Saturday night. Can you get me into Dad’s fundraiser so I can crash it? He won’t put me back on the list until I promise not to bring any C-4 with me and I won’t promise not to bring any C-4 because he should just trust me that I won’t when I say I’m not gonna and he won’t trust me that I won’t until I admit I shouldn’t have brought any to that sting last month where three tiny little yachts blew up through barely any fault of my own, and I’m just not gonna do that ever because I have convictions and I feel I shouldn’t have to be punished for that. Y’know?”

Batwoman blinks at him. “Kid, I’m not gonna lie to you. You’re my nephew and I love you, but I stopped listening three seconds into all that.”

“Ugh, fine. Can you help me crash Dad’s event tonight so I can teach him a lesson about why he should just trust me not to make a scene so I don’t have to always make a scene to make a point.”

“Tempting as you make that sound,” she says wryly, “I have a strict policy for dealing with you lot and your......everything. I only worry about tolerating one of you at a time, and there’s seven of you, and seven days in the week. You each get your own. You know perfectly well its Robin’s day today. You get me on Tuesday, just like always.”

“Auntie B, we’re not like other families, are we?” Red Robin’s delivery is sarcastically childish and his question clearly rhetorical. Most of his attention is fixated on whatever it is he’s doing with his wrist-mounted computer.

“No sweetie, we’re all severely fucked in the head and a little bit too comfortable with that.”

“Just checking. Oh hey, Hood, I just emailed you a patch for the hole in your firewall I exploited when replacing all my shit using your accounts just now.”

“You did what?”

“Used your accounts to pay to replace all my stuff that you fucked with last night?” Red Robin says slowly. “Did you not realize that I’ve been sticking within ten feet of you for the past five minutes just so I could clone your devices and do all that while BB and Spoiler kept you distracted? I gotta say, bro, I feel like that’s on you then.”

Red Hood swivels his helmeted head in the direction of the aforementioned two. Black Bat waves. Spoiler shoots him an utterly unrepentant thumbs up.

“You’d side with your ex over me? That’s what its come to?”

“My only allegiance is to chaos,” Spoiler says brightly. Black Bat shrugs.

“Plus he bribes better.”

“Hateful,” Red Hood points at Black Bat, moving on to level the same finger at Spoiler, who curtsies in acknowledgment: “Hateful-er.”

Then the finger rounds the bases to aim judgmentally at Red Robin. “Hateful-est. And that was all Nightwing’s idea anyway, not mine.”

“Oh, I assumed as much,” he says casually. “Your idea of a prank tends to have more of a Carrie vibe. Or be a literal literary reenactment.”

“Its called an homage, 4chan.”

“Whatever, plagiarist. And anyway, I couldn’t go after ‘Wing for payback on this one. He used an Immunity card. If you didn’t want me getting back at you, you should have used one too."

Red Hood looms aggressively. Red Robin ignores willfully. Round and round they go. Superheroes who can survive excessive G-Forces are getting dizzy just watching them have a largely motionless stand-off. That shouldn’t be how that works, but whatever. All the most infamously reclusive and isolated heroes in all hero-dom are apparently part of the same one big reclusive and isolated family of fucked up weirdos and they’re all officially bonkers. Nothing makes sense anymore. Reality broke. Try another stall.

“Okay, but see, in order to have an Immunity card, I would have to participate in one of you losers’ stupid Immunity challenges,” the Red Hood drags out with exaggerated patience. “And I’m just not going to do that, on account of those all being fucking stupid. You see the problem there?”

Red Robin just shrugs. “I don’t know what to tell you, bro. You can have principles or you can have an Immunity card. You can’t have both.”

Meanwhile, on another side of....the same room.....look, its like, an octagonal room, probably. It has a lot of sides. Robin fends off questions from an aggrieved looking Superboy.

“You never told me you had a bajillion brothers and sisters!”

“Yes but I never said I didn’t either.”

Superboy rolls his eyes. “Oh yeah, so I should just assume everyone I meet has a bajillion secret brothers and sisters?”

“Well clearly it would have worked out in your favor in this instance if you had, now wouldn’t it?”

“Assuming of course that you can trust what has been said or implied here today and I am actually related to any of those numbskulls. Which I am not actually admitting to,” Robin tacks on hastily.

Superboy eyes him dubiously. “You joined in the same creepy chant all the others did and then got super self-conscious and looked around to see if anyone had noticed. Which uh. I did.”

“First off, your interpretation of body language is abyssmal. I do not get self-conscious,” Robin says with a delivery that probably could have benefited from being a little less self-conscious. “And second....that proves nothing. I guessed what they were going to say.”

“Word for word,” Superboy says super-skeptically.

“I’m very good at guessing things. You know this.”

“Okay. Guess how much I believe you right now then.”

Robin glares and folds his arms grumpily across his chest.

“And what was that anyway? Was that like....you guys’ family motto or something like that?”

“Oh no,” Spoiler pipes up. “That’s much shorter.”

Superboy balks at that. “Wait, you guys actually have one of those for real?”

“Yup,” Steph says, counting out the words with her fingers. “He who laughs last....probably works for the Joker. So tranq him just to be safe. See? Only sixteen words. The first rule of Living While Batty is way longer, and what we said was just the abridged version. You should hear the original, before Black Bat put her foot down and refused to memorize it unless sizable edits were made.”

Superboy hovers between her and Robin now, both in mid-air and on the verge of taking Spoiler’s words as an invitation to hear just that. A low growl arises from Robin’s direction.

“Must you?” He asks the older vigilante, with a most put upon expression.

She looks at him pityingly. “Do you actually need me to answer that? Like, we’ve met, right? Hi, I’m Spoiler.”

“Wait, so Robin said that I just never specifically asked him if he had a bajillion brothers and sisters, and that’s why he didn’t tell me, so that means he wouldn’t have just lied and there’s not some code of secrecy that flat out forbids telling other people stuff, right?” Superboy realizes excitedly.

“Yes, excellent direction. Go on,” Spoiler says, steepling her fingers. Robin buries his face in the palm of one hand.

“Soooo, what other stuff could you tell me about Robin’s super top secret family that I wouldn’t think to ask about but that he would tell me about if I knew what questions to ask?”

She claps once, lightly but with emphasis. “Well done. You’ve passed the first barrier. Untold secrets await you behind just a few more.”

“I’ll get you for this,” Robin vows calmly. She waves a hand at him.

“Yeah, yeah. Just make sure you do it before January 1st, remember? You’ve promised retribution like ten times already this year and those don’t roll over, y’know. Rules are rules.”

“Enough!” Thunders a voice then, from the front of the room. Well one of the fronts anyway. Like sides, it has a lot of them, but this is the one where Batman’s standing. All eyes snap to him. Which is kinda just what eyes do when Batman says stuff like that. Its like his superpower, except he doesn’t actually have superpowers, which is what makes it scary. But where the snapping of the eyes (directional) is usually followed by Batman saying something else besides just “hey look at me,” here he pauses in the wake of his own call to attention’s waning reverberations. Uncharacteristically silent.

Not that, y’know, he’s normally Mr. Talkity Talk, but usually his silences feel like he has the words to fill them, he’s just withholding them. This though, this feels more like he doesn’t have any words at all. And he’s as confused by it as any of them, and most everyone else is confused by Batman being confused, and its this whole trickle down economy of confusion and its wrecking havoc on the value of the golden silence standard.

Of course, not everyone present is rendered spellbound with confusion.

“C’mon B,” Nightwing cajoles, leaning forward and practically radiating delight. “I think you know what you have to do now. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Its not likely to come around again.”

Red Hood snickers beneath his helmet and chimes in. “Yeah Pops, go ahead. You do this and you’ll actually have my respect for a whole twenty four hours. No, wait. Sixteen. No! Eight. Yeah, eight. Still a good deal.”

“Carpe diem, B,” Red Robin grins, leaning back as if to enjoy the show.

“Hey! Infringe on my trademark one more time, dude,” Signal throws a faux-glare at the former. Red Robin just quirks an eyebrow.

“And what, you’ll start saying Yum every time you eat a burger? Oh no. I’m hoist by my own petard.”

Signal flips him off with a grin and then redirects his attention back to Batman. “Yeah seriously though B, you kinda gotta do it now. Because if you don’t do it, then you’ll forever be the guy who didn’t do it, and you don’t want to be that guy, do you?”

“Yeah you really don’t want to be that guy,” Spoiler shouts out. “Nobody likes that guy. He’s the worst.”

“Do it, do it,” Black Bat starts chanting beside her, steadily picking up speed and volume. Several others start joining in. Even Robin appears to be slightly anticipatory, albeit trying very hard to hide it.

Batman sighs, and somehow everyone manages to hear it. Stills. Waits for....something? Nobody but them seems to have any clue what, but the air is thick and heavy with portentiousness. Something is about to happen, and all most of the heroes present could say for sure is it was something they never would have in a million years seen coming.

Finally, Batman straightens with the resigned air of a man about to have oh so many regrets. He crosses his arms, shakes his head, and in an absolute deadpan monotone, says:

“You are awful children. You know you’re killing me. You’re killing your father.”

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dingdongitsbees · 3 years ago

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BLACK-EYED SUSAN | LEVI X READER HUNGER GAMES AU

Chapter 13: Rinse and Repeat

Previous - Next

Tw: PTSD, implied suicidal ideation, alcoholism

WC: 5.4k Ao3 link Ask to be added to the taglist! It will be updated weekly on Saturdays

First person version can be found here

Master List

“Nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and we turn it into poetry. All that blood was never once beautiful, it was always just red.” – Kait Rokowski

It had been a few years since your world had gotten simultaneously a million times better and also gone to shit. It hadn’t really hit you two until you had spent a few days back in the homes that had been provided for you. You each had your own house as per usual for victors, but you didn’t need a second. You had spent your life together in a borderline shack, it would feel weird to have the other sleep across the street. But it had been in that gifted house that it finally came crashing down.

All you could see was their faces, all you could feel was that knife in your hand, all you could hear was that goddamn canon. You were sitting on a velvet couch paid for in blood. Now having more than enough food on the table was exchanged for lives. Being able to still exist in the world meant twenty-two people had been ripped from the world.

Levi had been next to you, so he just held you, his shoulders shuddering just as bad as yours, and you cried. You just cried. There’s nothing you can do or say or think to make anything like that better. Only time can help, and to be honest it isn’t very good at its job.

The trip to each district took what was left out of you two. Combined you had killed tributes of five districts out of the other eleven. Almost fucking half. Most of their families just glared at you on their platforms as their child’s face was displayed behind them as you recited propaganda scripts.

District Ten was hard for you. They had surprised you to be honest, neither of Sasha’s nor Connie’s family looked at you with any disdain. All you could feel was pity radiating off of them, especially from Sasha’s father. She told you how he had taught her how to shoot, you almost deviated off script to say how you learnt vicariously through his daughter, how kind she and funny she was.

Connie’s siblings hurt to look at. They looked at you with such big eyes. They should have hated you, they really fucking should have. Their brother died in one of the most horrific ways possible yet they stared at you as if you were one of their sisters. The normal people in front of the stage only copied their looks, none of them hated you for taking away two souls. It didn’t make any fucking sense. It would have been better if they had just heckled you. Just yelled at you and screamed at you, taking the brunt of their words was the least you could do for exchanging your life for one their own.

District Eleven wasn’t so kind to Levi. Kaya’s family looked like they were two seconds from breaking on to the main stage and choking him to death right there. He might have let them. Niccolo’s family was confusing. There was obviously no forgiveness for how Levi killed their son, a wild animal in a spree of rage, but they didn’t look angry. Levi had told you he had just said a few words over Niccolo before coming back, maybe those words were enough remorse for them to not want his head on a spike.

However, the civilians in the crowd didn’t agree. They had to be restrained from climbing up, yelling threats and taunts, about how he could kill a little girl without a second glance, how he took pleasure in killing Niccolo. Levi kept his head down, his undercut blinding his view, but his hand shook in yours. You did the speech on behalf of the both of you.

The districts from Nine to Five didn’t give two shits about you, maybe only some had mild curiosity. Their glazed-over eyes just stared, clearly bored as you were from the fuckery spilling from your lips. Some of the families glared only because their child wasn’t standing up there instead of you, but you couldn’t blame them for that.

One was…weird to say the least. Neither of you had many interactions with either Annie or Bertolt, but you two lead them to their deaths. Levi may have killed Annie directly but Bertolt’s murder was just cruel, you knew that, but you had thrown that rock anyway. Both of their families just looked devoid of any emotion, the crowd didn’t seem to care, that’s One for you, but their parents just looked empty. The speech went smoothly.

Three was strange as well, you never met nor saw their girl, but Falco you certainly had, but you also hadn’t killed him, in reality your relationship him was positive. They didn’t seem to hate you, quite the opposite really, they seemed to be happy you were there. Three was no stranger to careers betraying and killing their tributes so they were probably just happy Reiner didn’t win and it had been because of your own hands. Still, it was strange. Falco’s older brother, the one you had seen in the reaping recording, had looked on the brink of tears but he stayed strong, his back straight and head up high. They probably wouldn’t have looked at you the same if Falco had gone with you. Someone would have needed to kill him at some point anyway, it just so happened it wasn’t you.

Two was painful. Instead of two separate families standing on their respective platforms it was just one. There was confliction in their eyes for sure, you were surprised they could even stand to be around each other, their sister or bother’s son killing their child. But they stood together. Staring at you with a mix of hate and affection. Levi had to do the speech that time.

Four was hard once again, but only because of one person, specifically Marcel’s younger brother. He flew daggers from his eyes, pure fury ran through his veins. He probably would have killed you both if he had the chance, probably would have been good at it too. You could only begin to imagine the anger he had stored up since you had sliced his brother’s throat.

You recognised him in the reaping for the next game.

He used his anger well.

At the end of the trip you had to go to the Capitol once again for the Presidents party. You nearly preferred the arena.

Floch was sweating buckets under Zeke’s gaze the entire time and drank himself into a stupor, avoiding you both at every turn which you were glad for. People reached for you like you were statues, brushing your hair and clothes and bodies like you were pets. Nick was the only thing stopping you from cursing everyone in the vicinity, Levi came close. Zeke watched from his balcony, eyes narrowed and sipping on champagne waiting for one of you to misstep so he could order a bullet into your heads.

When you got home you two didn’t know what to do. You both fucked around for a year, bought anything that caught your eyes at the hub no matter if it was an ugly piece of pottery or a toy. You bought a lot of liquor too and drank most in one go. The burning in your throats let you forget the inferno in your brains. A small price to pay for some peace and quiet between neurons.

You two were rarely sober for the first few months. You’d wake up and have whiskey for breakfast, you’d walk around town, maybe sneak through the fence, and have some gin, and if it was a particularly bad day you’d opt for tequila as your bedtime stories.

People in the streets knew to leave you alone, just to let you wallow a bit, they hadn’t seen many victors, but they could guess that starting up conversations with people on the knife’s edge was a good way to get punched. Hannes talked to you two occasionally, usually at the hub, cheering your bottles with his flask. He didn’t ask about the game, he saw enough anyway, he just pretended you were those troublemaker kids you had been when you left.

It was Hanji of all people that got you out of it, though she wasn’t one to talk when it came to the number of empty bottles in your living room, but she at least cut the number down a bit or swapped out the drinks for something weaker much to your slurred complaints.

The months after that were hard, letting the built-up trauma hit you like a train. You both started getting nightmares.

One of you would wake up already screaming or crying or be entirely frozen still and unable to move as their body quaked. The other would hold on to them until their tremors ceased and their breath evened again. Then you’d just rinse and repeat the next night.

Rinse and repeat.

Flinch at a raised voice, go numb at the sight of blood, start hyperventilating when you were sure you had seen another tribute in the crowd.

Try not to let yourself die.

Rinse and repeat.

Then the next game came around. You both offered to go as mentors, to let Hanji take a backseat from the role after her isolating years, she came to make sure you didn’t say something stupid, but she just got to hang around without much of a care.

The two kids that you got weren’t good. You knew the second that their names were called that they were goners. Wouldn’t make it in the bloodbath, and even if they ran, they probably wouldn’t live past the first day. You learnt to push their names away. It didn’t help any to hang on to them.

The kids weren’t dumb, they knew that too.

There was a little bit of hope when they looked at you however, a hope that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

Porco had sliced both of their throats open within the first minute. Porco won the title of victor in only three days with a kill count of eight. They never had a chance.

You think that was the last time you cried.

When mentors go to the Capitol and watch the feed, they sit in a room together connected to an ongoing party that never stops until the games do, infested with sponsors and government officials. Only mentors are allowed in that room, not even titan servants. You just needed a room to be in to be able to grieve only with people that understood.

They always looked after the new mentors, it didn’t matter the districts or even if their tribute killed yours, they’d hold you, get you a glass of water or usually something stronger, just let you get everything out and topped up makeup on your red rimmed eyes before you got ambushed by press outside the door. Sometimes the career districts were prickly, but only the ones that truly cared about the kids became mentors anyway, so they weren’t ones to give you shit.

It just sort of numbed you after that. You’re not sure if you could even remember all the kids you sent to their deaths. No, you definitely couldn’t, and you didn’t plan to.

Without fail every year they always got killed in the bloodbath, and every year without fail you’d drill into them to just run away, but they just wouldn’t listen, or the careers just didn’t let them leave. You both spent most of your time in the Capitol just flicking off the tops of third bottles and taking quiet bets on who was going to win or who’d kill who. Levi was always right.

It was actually Erwin’s idea to do something back at Twelve, to find something to pour yourselves into. So, after the 70th Hunger Games you went back and pushed your ludicrous amount of money to builders to create an orphanage. The one on your side of Twelve was shit and didn’t have the funding nor space, it was the reason you two had never gone to it yourselves, so you gave them some of your load too so they could get food on the table for once.

Kids started trickling in, you didn’t run the place yourselves, you didn’t have the emotional range to do something like that anymore and you’d probably do more harm than good as their caretakers, they didn’t need a pair of fucked up twenty-year-olds to lead them through life. But you visited, making sure everything was up to scratch and there was no complaints or concerns from the kids about the people you had employed or the quality of their beds and food or if they needed some more toys to play with.

Levi always made sure the place was meticulous, and it was kinda funny how he used cleaning as his way to bond with the kids. They always complained but they never said no when he asked for their help. You helped kids with schoolwork and funded whatever type of skill they wanted to learn.

“You wanna paint? Here’s an easel and some paints from the Capitol that my designer friend sent over.”

It was hard to smile but at least you could help them to.

One day, when you two had dropped in to visit before you went to stock up on vodka, a boy came up to you with big emerald eyes, with a black-haired girl trailing after him. He asked a question that got everyone surrounding you looking up from their sandwiches.

“Can you teach us how to fight?”

And so you did. Twelve had always been at a disadvantage, nothing in your district aided you for the Games, the closet you’d had was learning about mines and explosions or having the physical strength to lift a pickaxe but that was only available when you worked in the mineshafts at eighteen, the last year qualifying for the reaping, and eighteen-years-olds were never picked.

So usually any kid that went in was utterly fucked.

Unless you tried changing that.

You started small. Learning how to throw a proper punch or kick, things you had learnt on the streets stirring up trouble. How to balance yourself in a proper stance so a gust of wind or a shove from a career wouldn’t send you stumbling.

You taught them the things you learnt in the Capitol and in the training room; what foods were safe, how to set a trap, how to treat a wound, how to conduct an interview, how to form an alliance, who to avoid.

It was a long time before you held a blade again.

They had begged you for months to just teach them how to knife fight, but the idea still shook you. You hadn’t held a throwing knife in your hand for years, but it still melded uncomfortably comfortable into your palm. You could still throw it and hit it dead on centre. You knew if the throw was hard enough to go through someone’s skull. You knew how long it would take for their body to hit the ground if it were a clean shot, and how long it would take if it wasn’t. You knew how many milliseconds it would take for the canon to fire.

Picking up a knife again, only if to teach, was a torturous process, but you didn’t let them know that. You would just drink a little more that night.

“Eren keep your arms up! Try and copy Mikasa’s form!” you barked.

They all stood in a line, throwing knives into hay bales, some making it, most missing. Mikasa was unsurprisingly the former, Eren was unsurprisingly the latter. The two were always the hardest at work though it seemed it was usually driven by Eren’s ambition. The kid wasn’t gifted with natural talent but he was stubborn enough to try and make up for it. They had come to the orphanage after Mikasa’s parents were murdered over some debt they couldn’t pay and Eren lost his mum to a mine explosion and then his father caught something bad from his own patient.

It was always them begging you (well Eren at least, Mikasa would just ask nicely) for more lessons and whatever advice they could squeeze out of you. It frightened you a little, Eren’s enthusiasm, you had seen that face before.

It was an unspoken truth that they were your favourites of the bunch, the others didn’t take offence to it, it was just those two were always coming up to you two whenever they got the chance, though you were scared it was because they reminded you of an overconfident kid and the one trying to take care of them. You tried to pretend you didn’t see Gabi and Falco when you looked at them.

“I’m trying but my arm’s starting to feel heavy!” Eren said, not even bothering to turn his head.

“You brats don’t have time to get tired when you’re in there so just get used to it,” Levi replied.

He walked behind them, arms crossed as he analysed each of them, you tried not to make a joke that Eren and Mikasa were taller than him now. He muttered out tips to those who needed it, and compliments to those who deserved it, you had tried to get him to coddle them just a little bit but then he said overestimating yourself just gets your killed and you couldn’t say anything to that. When he got to the end of the line of kids, he wandered back over to you and you gave a crooked smile.

He bumped his shoulder into yours before turning around and standing next to you, you both falling into your usual silence as you just watched.

“There’s more of them than usual,” Levi noted and you nodded absentmindedly.

“It’s today, it makes them nervous.”

“Zeke never picks them though.”

That was true, when you had first started up the orphanage, you had expected Zeke to jump at the opportunity, there was no way he wasn’t privy to your every movement let alone something that required legal documents to be signed, so how he hadn’t rigged the reaping to pull one of your kids was honestly getting a little unnerving.

But each year a pair of kids were picked that you didn’t recognise, and you’d breathe a sigh of relief; it’s much easier to forget strangers.

You realised that the games were rigged at the 71st games, you had noticed that all the slips of paper you could see, even though they were folded in half, would all start with the same letter, it peeking out, and then the name called out would match. You asked Hanji afterwards, cause there was no way she hadn’t noticed, and she just laughed in your face.

“It’s a show, of course they choose their cast.”

You leant your head on his shoulder as you watched, he leant his head too. His arms untangled themselves from each other and he let one fall, letting his pinkie interlock with your waiting one. You both still being there was a constant surprise and an unspoken threat, because someday, when Zeke got tired, or you did something to piss him off, that fact might not be so true anymore.

But Levi’s there now, maybe not tomorrow, but today at least, and you could only hope that the trend remained.

“Cut it out dude!”

You both whipped your heads around, finding two kids wrestling on the ground. They panted as they tried to get the advantage, dust billowing around them as the other kids stared. Neither of you could be bothered to move. Eventually one straddled the other, pinning him to the dirt.

Levi’s pinkie tightened.

The boy on the ground whined while the other grinned in victory before joining his empty hands together and sending them down onto the boy’s chest.

Levi stiffened beneath you and alarm bells blared in your head.

The boy started pretending to stab him.

“Die! Die! Die!”

The kids around them laughed.

The boy beneath told him to stop.

Levi’s breath shortened.

You were at the kids in a second, pulling them off one another.

“That’s enough.”

They went silent, the boys looking down to the ground in shame, though they didn’t know why you were trying so hard not to glare.

“Time to pack up anyway, you guys need to get ready for the reaping,” you said, you were just greeted with whinges, “Put the knives in the tub you lot. Now.”

They instantly shut up, knowing that tone of yours was not to be messed with under any circumstances. They all shuffled off, throwing the knives in, you always counted them all in case one of them took one, but they were good kids.

Levi nodded at them as they filed back inside the building, jaw still tight. As soon as they were all gone, Eren and Mikasa waving goodbye at the end of the line, you sprinted back over, running your hands through his hair as you brought his face to your shoulder.

“Shh it’s okay it’s okay.”

A shudder whipped through him.

You kissed his temple. “You’re not in the arena, you’re in Twelve. I’m not about to die and neither are you. No one is dying and no one is going to. Just breathe, just focus on my voice and breathe.”

Eventually he stilled again, air flowing through his lungs like normal. It didn’t happen as much anymore, but it still happened. It probably didn’t help that he was about to meet two dead kids.

“Let’s go home, yeah?”

He nodded into your shoulder before finally raising his head, sliding over his façade again. You two of all people had to be the strong ones today, you couldn’t show fear, you weren’t allowed to anymore.

The walk home was silent, most people were inside or rushing home to get ready. You dropped past the hub quickly and you bought some bottles from your usual, Levi didn’t say a word, just stared into space. You passed the town square, the camera crews were nearly all set up, the barriers were getting placed. Hannes was testing the mic on the stage, he sent you a nod that you sent back.

The Victor’s village was always weird to see, after passing smog polluted houses with windows that are barely transparent anymore with walls that are starting to tilt, you come to a pristine gate. The separation pissed you off like it was saying you were better than them, but Nick would have your head if you even suggested taking it down. The houses were beautiful too. Maybe it was just an average house for a Capitol citizen, maybe a little nicer, but it looked like a goddamn king’s estate compared to everywhere else in Twelve.

People would say you deserved it, to have a nice home. It made you want to puke.

You could see Hanji through her window, lounging on a couch, bottle of whiskey in hand. Seemed like a plan.

You squeezed Levi’s hand as you unlocked the door and led him inside. You shed your jackets and shoes and put away your bottles, leaving one out. You glanced to him, he was still sort of out of it, he needed quietness, maybe a bath. Yeah a bath would do, those always calmed him down.

You trekked up the stairs, on the landing you let yourself take a little run up and slide across the wooden floorboards on your socks towards the bathroom door. Silly shit helped sometimes.

You reached out and grabbed the handle and turned it, pushing forward on the door. It let out an ungodly and far too familiar screech.

You gasped and slammed your back into the wall.

Fuck.

Your breath was getting quicker, not letting your lungs get enough oxygen before taking another gulp.

Fuck fuck fuck.

You crouched down, elbows on your knees as you pressed your palms into your eyes at a sad attempt to get your brain to stop.

You could only see him, or in more exact terms, you could only see his melted remains.

Fuck.

Rapid thumps came from the stairwell, you didn’t look up as arms enveloped you.

You let out a shaky breath. “I’m fine.”

He didn’t say anything, just kissed your head before holding you tighter. Your need to talk to communicate was even less than it used to be ever since the Games. There were things you two didn’t need to speak about, you just acted on, knowing exactly what to do.

Though there were moments you didn’t want to talk about, and you didn’t plan to talk about them either. He didn’t mention finding you sobbing on the bathroom floor surrounded by spilled sleeping pills and you didn’t mention waking up alone in bed and finding him completely out of it on the roof of the orphanage. You didn’t talk about it, but you held each other a little tighter just as you did both of those nights.

“I’ll get some oil for it when we get back,” Levi whispered.

You nodded into his chest.

“Bath?” he asked.

You nodded again.

Warm water has magical powers you swore, it really shouldn’t be able to make someone feel so good, to be able to relax and almost drift away forgetting about the possibility of drowning. What a lame way to go out, though it was much nicer than the ways you’d seen.

You laid on Levi’s chest as the water rippled around your little movements. He played with your pruned fingers, touching the fingertips with his own like it was an interactive museum exhibit. You watched, fascinated by his fascination, blinking slowly as the bath bled out all of your stress.

Moments like that were nice, but it had to be broken today. You couldn’t stay in that warm heaven forever, though it was quite tempting, you wouldn’t exactly be missing out on the adventure of a lifetime.

You ruffled the towel through your hair as you sipped the vodka. The burn and taste were barely noticeable, even the effect had begun to wear off or maybe you had just gotten better at being under the influence.

“Catch.”

You threw the bottle to Levi on the couch who caught it without a second glance, immediately taking a few gulps of it himself.

“Hello you two.”

You both looked to the door, sending tight smiles to your usual guest, though to be honest your home was hers and hers was yours at that point.

She walked behind Levi’s couch and took the bottle that he already had extended to her, taking a gulp before placing it on a side table.

“Ready to send children to die?”

The reaping went as usual. Hanji welcomed everyone to the 74th Hunger Games, two kids got reaped, one fifteen-year-old and one thirteen-year-old, you couldn’t remember which was which. You waited in the train, neither of them came up to talk to you and just ate up all the food they could before passing out on the nicest bed they would ever sleep in. You didn’t bother them, one look and you knew they were a lost cause.

The process went on.

Neither were that charismatic, they were only memorable because they were last and that was pushing it as is. They both got low scores, a four and a six. The thirteen-year-old cried himself to sleep the night before, or he might have, you wouldn’t know, you slept through it.

That morning you went up to the roof with them, got in the mentor’s hovercraft and just twiddled your thumbs, wondering who was going to win that year or what the arena was going to look like. You went in, sitting in the back of a cart, going through the maze of corridors beneath the grand stage, not bothering to focus in your eyes to see your surroundings. It was just grey walls anyway.

You yawned when you got to the centre, scratching the back of your neck as you tried to find your tributes amongst all of the shaking teenagers.

A finger tapped you on the shoulder. You spun around to see the girl from…Seven? She grinned, her eyes crinkling.

“I just wanted to say I think you’re really cool, I really admire what you and Levi did in your games.”

You blinked.

“Oh, is that so? Good luck then I guess.”

She smiled even wider before running off with a wave. You dragged a hand over your face before heading over to your tribute waiting for you.

It was a forest arena, nothing too special.

The games had long since started when you got back to main city of the Capitol and went into the sponsor party, both of you immediately beelined for the mentor room. You watched as replays showed one getting killed in the bloodbath the other getting hunted down by none other than the careers. You just stared at their slow-mo screaming faces and sighed.

You didn’t cry, you didn’t even blink. You did the first time but after that it’s just been shut away. Thankfully there was no new mentors that year, you didn’t have to deal with sobbing messes. You were too exhausted to care for someone anymore. Compassion doesn’t come cheap.

The mentor room was filled with pain as always, most were just trying to unlearn two names as quickly as possible, drowning their neurons in liquor so they could pretend that two faces weren’t burnt into their brains. It won’t be enough, it never is. You knew that too now.

Some of the others in the room weren’t mentors but they were victors all the same, having just grabbed a free trip to the Capitol so they could bum off some high-class booze. Couldn’t blame them. They were lucky though, the other districts, having more than three victors meant they had the option of just staying home and just ignoring the screen. They didn’t have to know the kids.

You two spent the rest of your time in silence, going back up to the penthouse to sleep before coming back, hoping the whole ordeal would be over soon.

The girl that talked to you before it started, a girl from Eight you had learned, was still alive though, and you couldn’t help but cheer for her a little bit. She started an alliance with a girl from Six, both doing well against the attempted threats on their lives by the careers. Soon they had made it to the last few with only a few scratches to show the world, much better than your leg to say the least. It still ached every once in a while.

But you were still surprised when her little duo alliance were the last ones left. Their mentors were on the edges of their seats, hands covering their noses and mouths like a prayer, eyes glued to the screen.

Then the girl from Eight did something fucking stupid, something that made everyone’s breath hitch around the country.

She brought out some poisonous berries. They had killed a career with them, not needing to get into a fight, but then they held grenades in the form of blueberries in their blood-stained hands.

They brought it to their mouths as the room cursed in unison, people rose from their seats, you could hear people yelling outside the door. They both hesitated for a second as they counted down but plopped them in their mouths anyway.

Two canons fired in quick succession.

The transmission was as silent as the room. No one knew what to do. You stared at the screen with two dead kids. There wasn’t going to be a victor. There wasn’t going to be a victor because they copied you.

“I really admire what you and Levi did in your games.”

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

The room slowly turned to you two as your heart hammered in your chest, Levi’s hand fumbled for yours.

You were fucked. Completely and utterly fucked.

a/n: sorry this chapter was late! this was mainly just summary but we’ll really get into it next chapter

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writingwithacupoftea · 4 years ago

Text

Dusty Black Coat

Summary: Tommy Shelby is famous for his dusty black coat - it's part of his signature look. But, really, it's not just his anymore...it's his sister's as well.

Word Count: 2765

Trigger Warnings: References to sexual assault after the third set of asterisks (***).

A/N: Hey hey hey, how are we all doing? I’m so happy to finally share this fic with you, it’s one that I’ve worked really hard on and it was one of the first ideas I had for a Peaky Blinders fic. As usual, let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy it!!

Tommy and Y/N Shelby had a relationship that no one could quite make sense of. Some people argued that the siblings were too similar for their own good, and that was the reason behind their seemingly constant arguing.

But in between all of that, there were moments of tenderness. These often occurred in complete silence, as they simply enjoyed the other's company. Amidst the hustle and bustle of a Friday night in the Garrison, Y/N could often be found with her head rested on her older brother's shoulder, sipping a gin as they watched Arthur and John's drunken antics with soft smiles on their faces. Or, if you happened to glimpse through the window of the Shelby residence on Watery Lane, you wouldn't be surprised to see the pair curled up in front of the fire, reading late at night.

Yes, it was a complicated relationship to say the least.

Then Tommy went to France, and the residents of Small Heath realised just how much Y/N loved her big brother. Of course, she missed all of her brothers while they were away, yet it was the one that the 18-year-old spend the most time yelling at that she clearly missed the most. It wasn't tears or words that communicated it, however. It was the fact that Y/N Shelby was nearly always walking the streets wearing Tommy's long, black coat.

The seven-year gap in age between the siblings meant that it was very oversized on her body to begin with. But as the years passed and the war continued raging on, the coat grew to suit Y/N quite nicely as she moved into her twenties.

When Tommy returned home, no one knew that him and his brothers were coming back, so the family didn't have chance to prepare. In fact, the first time that he saw Y/N, after four years away fighting, she was fast asleep. Upon closer inspection, Tommy had noticed that she was clutching his coat close to her chest and frowned at Polly, who had followed him, in confusion.

"She's barely let go of it since you left," and with those words Tommy found himself mimicking the gentle smile that graced Polly's face.

Since that day, a newfound understanding was created between Tommy and Y/N. Yes, they still argued (a lot, as any member of the Shelby clan would testify), but there was also now an unbreakable bond between the siblings. No one, not even the two themselves, knew what was so different about it, as nothing really changed in their relationship. But there was something there.

Oh, and it was also as clear as day that Tommy's sweeping black coat was definitely now Y/N’s as well...

***

Y/N loved the glamour of race days, no matter what business was occurring alongside them. Getting dressed up, having a few drinks, catching up with friends that she hadn't seen in a while; yes, she adored going to the races.

Everyone usually stumbles straight into the Garrison upon the return to Small Heath, and continues the party there. Tonight, however, not everyone chose to go to the cosy pub.

Y/N knew that her work could wait until the morning, but the meeting today was crucial for the expansion process of the Shelby Company Limited, and she wanted to get it done now.

No one had been into her office for hours, and when she had left earlier that day Y/N had neglected to close the window properly, so the cold October air had seeped into every nook and cranny of the room. She tried to concentrate on the papers in front of her, but her thin (but beautiful) dress did nothing to keep the cold at bay and she couldn't write properly with her fur shawl on. Sighing, Y/N put her pen down and made her way to Tommy's office to see if it was any warmer in there. She hated working in an office that wasn't her own, it was too distracting, but she had to decide which was the lesser evil: distraction through cold, or distraction through location. As she looked around Tommy's grand office, however, she found the perfect solution to her issue: Tommy's coat was hanging on a stand next to the door. With a triumphant smile on her face, Y/N marched back to her office with the heavy material sitting nicely on her body.

An hour later, she was still going with her paperwork, still wearing Tommy's coat, and completely oblivious to the time and anything else going on around her. So, naturally, Y/N didn't notice her brother appearing in the doorway to her office, having noticed the light glowing within the room.

"It's not like you to miss a night at the Garrison."

Y/N jumped what felt like a mile in the air, dropping her pen in the process, and placed her hand on her heart. "Jesus Christ, Tommy! I bloody hate it when you sneak up on me like that!"

A small chuckle fell from Tommy's lips as he sat down on the chair on the other side of her desk. "We had a good day today, Y/N," Tommy stated before lighting a cigarette, "We're moving up in the world." He paused, examining his younger sister thoughtfully. "And that, Y/N/N, means that you can afford to buy your own coat." Tommy's serious tone was, in Y/N's opinion, completely undermined but the glimmer of a smile that graced his face for a matter of seconds.

Y/N huffed dramatically, "It's called being resourceful, Thomas. My office was like an ice box, and your coat was just hanging there. Really, if you're that possessive over it you shouldn't leave it lying around." She raised her eyebrows and smirked at her big brother as she put her papers back into the drawer and locked it. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"I actually came here to get that so, come on, give it here"

"You can't be serious"

"I'm always serious, sweetheart."

Reluctantly, Y/N stood up, removed the warm coat and handed it over. Tommy put it on himself, before leaning over and turning out the light on her desk. "Fine, leave me to freeze to death, then you'll regret it."

"Wear something sensible next time then."

Y/N simply responded by sticking her middle finger up as she walked past him, and onto the streets of Birmingham.

(Barely two minutes into their journey, however, Tommy gave in. Hand in his pocket, he opened his arm up and Y/N cuddled into his side, his arm and half of his coat wrapped tightly around her. Suffice to say the pair felt the warmest that they had been since the war began.)

***

The damp early morning mist hung low over the grounds of Arrow House, and the sun was slowly beginning to rise in the distance. Y/N had barely slept, tossing and turning over and over again in her bed, her mind constantly replaying her argument with Tommy the night before. A rival gang had made threats towards the Shelby clan over a week ago, and Tommy had elected not to mention it to anyone. She didn't know why she was surprised, or shocked. But still, yet another row had ensued with her older brother.

As the clock on her bedside table ticked over to hit 5am, Y/N felt a desperate need to walk and think and breathe. And so, still wearing her nightgown, she made her way over to the stables, only stopping briefly to collect Tommy's heavy coat to keep her warm, not really thinking about her actions.

Y/N didn't know how long she had been in the stables. She had run a hand over all of the horses, speaking to them in hushed tones as she did so. Memories of her childhood came flooding back to her, and she was hit with a wave of sadness as she realised that the simplicity of their old life was long gone. Instead, she only had these lone moments to cherish, away from the chaos that Tommy's ambition had brought with it. Anger towards her brother hit Y/N once again, and yet she found herself hugging his coat closer to her, seeking comfort in it that everything would be okay in the end.

Thomas Shelby, she thought, humourlessly, the king of providing people with conflicting emotions; sounds about right.

She was removed from her thoughts, however, as Y/N heard her name being called out from afar. Speaking of the devil, she mused; but she decided not to alert him to her whereabouts. As Tommy's voice got nearer, she realised that she had heard him use that tone of voice once before, panic-stricken and desperate: when Charlie was taken. Guilt coursed through Y/N's body, and yet part of her felt a small amount of satisfaction. He needed to be reminded of the importance of family, something that had escaped him in the months following Grace's death, and to experience some raw emotion for once.

Moments later, Tommy crashed through the stable doors, wild eyes searching the place frantically. When they landed on his sister's figure perched on a bale of hay, he let out a breath that he didn't even know that he had been holding. Upon finding Y/N's bed empty when he woke up, and seeing the front door slightly ajar, complete, unadulterated fear had consumed his entire being. The only thought that ran through his brain was they've taken her...they've taken her...they've taken her...

And so seeing her, safe, unharmed and swathed in his coat (as she so frequently was), broke down any remaining barriers that were still left standing.

Tommy quickly gathered her into his arms, hugging her closer than ever before. Y/N was stunned – she and Tommy never hugged properly; it just wasn't their way. But, despite her anger, she melted into it, not wanting to let this moment slip away.

As Tommy pulled away, holding Y/N at arm's length to examine her for any sign of harm and finding nothing, he suddenly found himself able to speak again, though his voice hoarse from shouting: "Even when you're mad at me, you can't leave without my fucking coat, can you?" Y/N, unable to hide a small smile, slapped his arm and started to make her way up to the house, Tommy following closely behind, not wanting her to wander off alone again.

***

It was no secret that Y/N Shelby was a fiercely independent young woman (this often clashed rather badly with Tommy's desire to control, and the combination sparked many an argument between the pair). She hated people mollycoddling her, and so when she was still having nightmares a month after being sexually assaulted in a London club, Y/N didn't mention it to anyone. All she did was try to continue her work and life as normally as she could, constantly pushing her exhaustion to one side.

Of course, what she didn't bank on was the fact that Thomas fucking Shelby could read her like a fucking book. And a children's one at that.

He'd been there the night it happened: whilst Tommy had met with the club's owner, Y/N was dancing with a friend. She'd slipped off to get another drink from the bar (on the house, obviously) when one man thought he'd try his luck. Reeking of alcohol and speech slurred, he'd been incredibly...persistent...and because they were at the end of the bar on a crowded Saturday night, no one had noticed as the drunk pulled her into a back room, tearing at her dress as she tried to fight him off.

Well, let's just say that he wasn't very lucky that night – Tommy had noticed his sister's absence and somehow managed to find her before anything went any further. To this day, Y/N still didn't know how her big brother had done it, all she knew was that she'd never been so relieved to see him. She didn't really remember the journey to Ada's house, where Tommy had taken her to be looked after while he went and hunted down the man who had dared to do this to his little sister: he had only managed to get in a few punches before turning his attention to Y/N, and it wasn't enough. The only thing that Y/N could clearly recollect was cuddling into her brother's chest as she sobbed, knowing that she was now safe. He'd buttoned his coat around her trembling figure, and to Y/N it was like he was still hugging her as he drove, the one thing keeping her grounded.

She felt the man's hands on her body every time she began to drift off to sleep. But she wouldn't tell anyone. Carrying on like everything was normal was just her way of coping with things, and she didn't want anyone to take that away from her.

It was eight o'clock at night when Y/N returned to the offices of Shelby Company Limited. She had been at the gin factory all day, checking on the progress being made there, and she was now more than ready for Tommy to take them back to Arrow House so that she could put her feet up. But, to her dismay, Tommy was still working away at his desk.

"Please don't tell me you're gonna be long, Tom?"

The man in question looked up at his sister, taking in her slumped posture and the darkness underneath her eyes. Instead of replying, he simply poured two whiskeys, grabbed his papers and sat down on the sofa in his office, gesturing for Y/N to do the same. Sighing, she removed her coat and hat and collapsed onto the space beside him, taking a large swig of the whiskey once she was comfortable.

"I'll be as quick as I can."

And with that, Tommy continued to read. Lulled by the warmth, whiskey and peace, Y/N's eyelids began to droop and (despite numerous attempts to stifle it) finally let out a long yawn. Not taking his eyes off the document in front of him, Tommy moved the remaining papers from his knee and placed them on the arm of the sofa.

"Go on," he said, in what was (for Tommy, at least) a lighter tone of voice.

Letting out a dry chuckle, Y/N looked over at her elder brother and replied: "I'm not 4 years-old anymore, Tommy, I will not -"

But before she could finish her sentence, she let out another yawn, causing Tommy to finally look away from his work to raise his eyebrows at her with a smirk.

"Fine," Y/N grumbled, "But if we're here much longer I'll just annoy you until we leave."

She slowly started to lay down onto the sofa, resting her head on Tommy's lap, and he subconsciously found himself stroking her hair with his free hand. When Y/N was much younger, this set-up wasn't unusual in the slightest, and the young woman now found herself feeling far more relaxed than she had been in months. So much so that she kept finding herself nodding off, but would shake herself awake every time, not wanting the nightmares to begin playing again.

He didn't show it, but Tommy was disheartened that his sister still wasn't going to sleep. He had hoped that the familiar position alone might be enough to send her off, as Tommy knew that he had quite a bit of reading left to do and wanted Y/N to get some rest. Tommy was more than aware that his sister hadn't been the same since that night in London, but didn't want to mention anything to her for fear that she'd bite his head off.

The great Thomas Shelby was scared of his younger sister, who'd have believed it?

After a few moments of silent thought, he realised that the solution was simple. He reached around to grab his coat, which he had thrown over the back of the sofa, and placed it over Y/N's body like a blanket. When she looked up at him, silently posing a question, Tommy spoke to her softly.

"Get some rest, sweetheart. I won't leave you."

Tears welled up in the younger Shelby's eyes as she nodded slightly, grateful (for once) that Tommy knows her better than she knows herself. Y/N curled her knees up slightly and snuggled in to the warm, dark material. Feeling her brother's hand securely on her shoulder as he rubbed his thumb backwards and forwards over it, and inhaling the scent of whiskey, cigarettes and just Tommy, Y/N knew that nothing could get to her...and so she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby #peaky blinders sister #tommy shelby x sister reader #tommy shelby x sister!reader #shelby sister #shelby!sister #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fic

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steveusesfaberge · 5 years ago

Text

Better Parent (pt. ii)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Summary: The kids have their loving mother and...uhh...other mother...take them to the Wheelers’ house; an advice filled car ride later - and some quality time with his favorite girl.... and it ends with a shifty scheme crafted by only the best intentions, and two teens not doing the babysitting they were assigned to do...wonderful. Sounds just like another day for Harrington!

Type/Style: Imagine, female pronouns

Warning(s): Fluff~, momma Steve, heed all warnings… Oh, and a bit of cursing! >.<

Word Count: +4,100

a/n: The is part two to Better Parent and with that being said, I hope you all enjoy!

Part 1 - Part 2 (you are here) - Part 3

Please send requests! I’m excited to write for you all! <3

━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━

“Hey--”

“Move over, your ass is in my lap!”

“Hello?”

“What?! You're practically in my seat!”

“Is anyone even listening to--”

“Stop it guys - don’t push!”

“Hey! Dickheads! Would you all quit it? Goddamn, why didn’t one of you go with Y/N like she suggested?” Steve growled while trying not to crash the car. The boys had all decided they’d tumble into his car...leaving a party of three merrily skipping to the other teenager’s car...it wasn’t like there was anything wrong with it! - Y/N’s car was actually quite nice; she took care of it and even had a better radio than Steve...

“Because then we’d be alone with all that estrogen...not happening, Harrington,” Lucas spoke up while giving Mike a hard shove to his side. Will was groaning in annoyance as his friends jostled him to be pressed harshly to the car door. While Dustin happily was messing with the stereo (when he’d called shotgun - and Steve allowed it, Y/N had claimed it was ‘favoritism amongst their six babies who she, as the better parent, loved equally. Thus, no one would be sitting passenger in her car. Steve figured that’s why none of the boys wanted to go, being squeezed between El and Max might not be ideal...though Harrington knew better. Y/N liked playing her own music, and with a grubby hand like Dustin’s all over the radio - her rule had been set long before she became a mom).

“Mhm, sure,” Steve grumbled while rubbing his temple, already regretting agreeing to this. It wasn’t like it was a long ride back to Mike’s house - but goddamn did these knuckleheads make it feel like it... “Tell me that again when you’re not off sucking faces with Max,” the older boy was praised with ohs and ahs as he snapped the remark at Sinclair.

“At least I have a girlfriend,” Lucas defended, earning his own audience of noise.

“A-hahhhh, and what the hell is that supposed to mean, asshole?” Steve jabbed while resting his elbow on the rim of his window, it had been rolled down because all the movement in the car had it feel like a damn sauna. Dustin was still messing with his radio, flipping channels and making the music louder when Steve had specifically told him to turn it down. He slapped the said boy’s hand away and scolded him briefly,” Hands off, Henderson - how many times do I have to say it? It’s distracting me - do you want to die?” He exhaled slowly, trying not to pull the car over and kick each out to the side of the road. Either having to walk the rest of the way or ask Y/N.

“I mean - I have the balls to even kiss a girl - or are you and girly Henderson dating without us knowing?” Lucas drilled, earning a head nod from Mike, and an eye-roll from Will who just wanted to get to the house (he was more interested in DnD than how poorly Steve’s love life was going).

Steve abruptly stopped the car. He heard Y/N slamming on the breaks, a honk of her horn and the muffled sound of her cursing him off for such a dangerous stunt. He ignored it though, deciding to deal with the consequences later. Luckily, there wasn’t anyone behind Y/N to backend her (he wasn’t dumb enough to do such a thing with precious cargo...).

“What? You know how many girls I’ve kissed? How many I’ve made out with? Huh? Do you forget who I am?” He wiped his chin and shook his head with a defensive blush finding his face. He took a breath in and exhaled with a more composed manner. He tried to ignore the way the boys in the back held their laughter in, and definitely, decided to ignore the way Dustin watched them all in confusion (dumbass didn’t even see the way Steve looked at his sister).

“Me and Y/N...are not a thing. We’re not together, we’re not a couple, we’re not an item,” he drawled while shaking his head. After a few moments of silence, the boys clearly conflicted on to continue laughing or feel bad for the way Steve’s tone dropped off at the end of his sentence.

He started down the road again, both hands gripping the wheel tightly; his eyes never leaving the windshield. His ears painted pink.

“You...you guys know this,” he mumbled while shaking his head once more, flipping Y/N off in his rearview mirror.

“I know but--,” Mike was cut off with a soft sigh from Harrington.

“I-I can’t. Okay? Is that what you wanna hear from me? That...that I know I’m not good enough for her? That...I’m scared if I told her, she’d swallow me whole and I’d never be able to look her in the eyes?” The desperate drag of his tone was obvious (maybe Y/N was right; he’d stooped to King Steve level of desperation...not for other girls...but...to just get a chance with her...anything...anything...he’d do anything).

The rest of the ride was filled with the boys in the back, coming up with love advice for Steve. Ask her out, just do it - be confident! Write her a letter. Tell her she looks nice. Ask her if she wants a boyfriend. Tell her she’s hot. Oh, what about showing her-- they’d reached the Wheeler estate and as they began unbuckling and getting ready to leave the car (thank the Lord, he wasn’t sure how much more he could take), and Dustin - who had been silent the majority of the ride finally spoke.

“What. The. Actual. Fuck.” He sputtered while his eyebrows furrowed in utter shock and confusion.

Steve rolled his eyes, and pushed his door open, calling over his shoulder,” I like your sister, dude. We’ve established this like....thirty-six times. Catch up, dipshit.” All embarrassment he had earlier had washed away, being replaced with a bubbling feeling of nerves and doubt. The boys were trying to be nice, do their best...but...they were all awkward preteens...their advice was as good as Steve consulting a Magic 8-Ball.

Inside the house, before trucking to Mike’s basement - Dustin dragged Steve to the kitchen, his mind still trying to figure out what had been revealed (or more so, finally brought up as Steve’s feelings for Y/N had always been the weird, pink-polka-dotted elephant in the room).

“What’re you doing? - They’ll start without you--,” Steve was hushed as Dustin slapped his hand to his mouth.

“My sister?” Dustin whisper-shouted. Steve rolled his eyes for the nth time and tugged Henderson’s grip from his face.

“Yeah, dingus - we’ve been over this--,”

“But my sister...Steve...why?” Dustin wasn’t sure how he felt about it clearly, and it only made Steve more nervous. That feeling that sunk into his bones, not a good one. Of course, if he were going to date Y/N...he’d need his best friend’s (and favorite child’s) permission.

“Whaddya want me to say! She’s like...the only girl I hang out with that’s my age, besides Robin, that I don’t mind,” Steve paused,” Might I remind you - Robin’s not into dudes.” It was almost sad how his social life had crumbled along with his desire to capture anyone else’s attention but Y/N’s (and of course, he’d tried to push those feelings aside for the sake of your friendship...but...it never worked).

Dustin was quiet; longer than Steve would’ve liked, as sitting in the soft silence was nervewracking. The curly-haired sibling stood, arms crossed, eyes clouded with thought as he rubbed his chin. Steve tapped his foot, leaning on the kitchen countertop as he waited, pinching the bridge of his nose. God, this kid’s such a headache...

“Dusty - Will told me, to tell you, that if you don’t go down now, you’ll be left out,” Y/N was just turning the corner when she spotted the pair in the kitchen, seeming as if they were in quite the predicament.

“Is this a private moment...or?” she spoke slowly, a tease to her words.

“N-No! I was...just...telling Steve that...um...,” his attention now on the older boy who had a hand ruffling through his hair for any imperfections (though who was he kidding? Harrington had the best head of hair in Hawkins).

“I was telling him if he doesn’t do it...I’ll...be disappointed...guy stuff,” Dustin gave Harrington a sincere half-grin and there was obviously a conversation to be held later (but Y/N’s appearance lead Dustin to keep his mouth shut for now).

“Really?” Steve asked, his brows raised as he took the boy’s words in.

“Yeah...yeah...just...don’t do something weird in front of me,” Dustin lowered his voice as he spoke the last bit.

“Alright, enough bro-talk, Dusty - get going and leave the adults to talk.” Y/N rolled her eyes; ruffling his hair as he passed by.

It was just the two of them, and Steve was trying not to do something stupid. Walking forward, he felt his body involuntarily tense up as she moved to stand a few feet from him - though a few feet was more than enough to render his mind as blank as all hell. His body completely useless now...

Don’t do something stupid. Don’t do something stupid. Don’t do something stupid. Don’t do something stupid. Don’t do something stupid....

“Did you want to do something while they messed around? Like catch a movie or--,” Y/N was interrupted by the blubbering fool before her.

“Your letter - uh, looks nice -- I mean, it looks hot! No - wait...that...that didn’t come out right.” Steve’s outburst granted an unsure look from her. Please just kill me now...did...did I say that? Well...all logic had found its way out the nearest fucking window...

“What?” Was all Y/N said while waiting for Steve with furrowed brows.

He covered his eyes, his free hand waving around for a dazed second as he tried to get the proper words out. Breathe...be natural...be confident....don’t fuck it up like that again, Harrington.

“I meant to say - you look nice,” he paused,” And to answer your question, why don’t we just go down and um...finally settle the score?” That...was...better.

Y/N shrugged, nodding as she reached for his hand. At that moment, Steve’s heart flatlined and he was sure he was now staring at an angel as she dragged him across the house, to the basement. “Sounds good - be prepared because momma ain’t leavin’ without her babies’ approval,” Steve could only nod to the back of her head as she spoke such fighting words.

If you asked Steve Harrington at the beginning of high school - what he thought about spending his free-time with six underaged dweebs who all were too smart-assy for their own good, and got themselves in trouble with hell (literally)...he’d have laughed and told you, you were as delusional as Byers.

If you asked the Steve Harrington the same question now - he’d look around at the six underaged dweebs shouting and arguing around a table laid out with character sheets, figurines, and dice... He’d laugh at their quick remarks and their tendency to use foul language, and he’d smile. Steve would’ve congratulated Byers’ brother for being the best Dungeon Master, the world had to offer.

If you told him, roughly five years after high school - he’d be seated on a busted sofa, in his ex’s basement, coke loosely held in one hand, the other pushing a pretty girl’s head away from him in a teasing manner...he’d...well..he’d not believe you. Because you’d describe the girl as someone so...amazing, so incomparable, that he’d think you’d made her up. You’d say that she was so breathtaking, that if you were in the same space as her for too long - you’d die from a lack of oxygen. That she had the most stunning y/c/e eyes he’d ever have the perquisite of seeing, and they’d have him chasing her for ages...having him choke on his own spit when she looked at him. Not to mention, the heartstopping laugh she’d have...the kind of laugh that had any guy (not just dorky Harrington) fall harder than he thought possible. Finding himself in an endless fall that put even Alice’s rabbit hole tumble to shame. She’d have a melody that had him trip over his words and stumble to find his footing. Yeah...Steve would not have believed you.

And yet, here he was...watching six dweebs play Dungeons and Dragons; with a girl he was madly in love with - more perfect than words could offer, sitting on a busted sofa, in his ex’s basement, no more than a foot between them...

“I’m tellin’ you, Steves - I’m the better parent, because the girls love me, and the boys worship me,” Y/N explained while pulling an L up to her forehead. Steve scoffed and waved her off.

“Actually - I don’t worship you, I worship Steve for giving me his hair secre--,”

Steve began snapping with his left hand, shaking his head and glaring. “Hey, hey, hey! Shithead - you swore on your life, you’d never say jackshit about that!” Dustin threw his hands out in silent defense.

“Sorry, I was just standing up for y--,” Steve shook his head once more, blowing him off with a puff of his cheeks. “Remember what I said? One peep - and your ass, yeah the one you’re sitting on now, is grass, Henderson. Grass.”

The gang began laughing at Steve’s overprotective outburst of his “best feature”. The brunette only tsked, mumbling obscenities.

“That wasn’t very better parent material, Steve,” Max snickered while El whispered something in her ear.

“Aye! No whispering under my watch - if you have a secret, you can say it aloud in front of the family,” he stressed with fake authority.

“But you just told Dustin--,” “Eleven - I don’t need a smartass.” Steve pursed his lips.

The kids eventually settled back down, getting sucked into their fantasy world once more without a second glance to the pair on the sofa. Y/N was clamping a hand to her mouth, trying not to let the amusement slip from her lips. She loved seeing Steve with the kids - he was so....dorky and sweet in his own way...saying so, she could almost admit she loved h--

“What’re you laughing at, Ms. Not-the-best-parent-because-you-suck-and-don’t-have-great-ass-hair?” Steve hissed in a low tone. His eyes watching the way Y/N’s flickered with happiness and one emotion he couldn’t quite place.

“You’re wrong for two reasons, Harrington,” she mused.

“Enlighten me,” he replied, leaning to have only a few inches between the two of you. It had been on a fleeting moment of confidence, leaving Y/N with a bright red glow - and Steve with a dumb grin. He wasn’t sure if he was proud of it, or extremely embarrassed...he settled to let her finish instead.

“Well, one: you’re not the better parent. I am,” Y/N pinched his cheek, to which he tried to back out of, but she only squeezed harder, leaving Steve to let out a grievance of annoyance as she tugged him back to listen.

“And two: your hair isn’t that great. I mean--” Steve gasped in a dramatic hurt. Falling from her grip and bending over her lap like a speared body. “Stop! Right there, don’t finish that sentence...you’ll ruin everything I’ve worked for.” he pleaded. His tongue sticking out his mouth as if he’d ‘died’.

Y/N giggled watching his childish act and rolling her eyes, a good-natured smile on her lips. She brushed a hand through his hair and spoke in an exaggerated tone,” I’m so sorry, Steves, please forgive--,” in the time of her talking, Steve had lifted a hand and silenced her with the odd hand-motion that looked like a duck, then grabbed her wrist and removed her hand from his scalp.

“You don’t get the privilege to touch my great ass hair, even if I’m dead.” He mumbled, stifled by her lap. Even though in actuality, he loved the feeling and knew if she didn’t stop he’d fall asleep.

“Oh, get over yourself,” Y/N proclaimed while attempting to shove the limp body of Steve Harrington from her own. “Nuhu,” he murmured.

Watching the two teenagers fall all over one another, the six children held back their gags.

“It’s so sad,” Max mumbled.

“Yeah, so sad I can’t focus on this raid,” Lucas agreed while knocking his head against the table.

“It’s like watching two blind...like very blind bats try, and make love.” Mike spewed.

“Thanks for the visual,” Will snorted.

“I think it’s sweet.” Everyone looked to El as she shrugged with a sheepish look.

“What? Steve...he likes her. Why is that bad?” She grabbed Mike’s hand. “I like Mike. Mike likes me - why is Steve and Y/N any different?”

The idea hit them like a ton of bricks...or, maybe it was the obnoxious laughter of their favorite Henderson (to Dustin’s protest) being tickled by Harrington, that snapped them into realization.

Steve was basically, on top of her. His hands running down her sides as she squirmed, refusing to apologize for saying she was better than him, and that his hair wasn’t anything special... While it was cringe-worthy on every level (according to a sulking brother), it was...sweet.

Y/N had a smile on her lips that they’d never really seen before - save for when Harrington entered the room. It was like he said the funniest thing without really having to say anything at all...like Steve brought out the best in her without having to lift a finger. Stomach in knots when he called her name...it was that kind of smile that Steve was able to bring out.

As for Harrington himself? His smile remained even after she left. Having spent a whole day with her - the party would catch him grinning to himself like a madman while helping them put away their game set-up. They’d catch him repeating things he’d said that happened to make Y/N smile the way he loved... It was the kind of look that you couldn’t replicate, even if you tried...only if you knew the feeling - could you do so.

Realizing this, Dustin yelled and groaned silently in his head (half disgust and half reluctant understanding). Steve, you owe me big time for this...

“Fine,” he whispered, catching everyone’s gaze but the two still messing bout on the sofa. “What’s the plan?”

“You’re s-such a l-loserrrr!” Y/N slurred while trying to struggle free of the handsome boy before her. Steve knew she had a soft spot for being so sensitive - he’d figured it out one time when she almost knocked him out on accident...(it ended with a lot of apologizing on your part, while also laughing as he held a bag of frozen peas to his face to avoid any swelling...)

“Admit it, and I’ll stop,” Steve tried to sound as serious as possible, failing utterly as Y/N’s y/c/h was splayed out like a crooked halo. Truly an angel...if anything, he wasn’t sure what he’d done in his (not so great) lifetime to earn the graces of such a human as you...good God...

Catching his gaze, Y/N shook her head (her halo only following her as any good angels’ would). “I-I...haha...will...n-never...a-admit...a-a lie!”

Steve only clicked his tongue. Sighing with a shake of his head. “I guess you’ll suffer until the end of time then, huh?”

After a few more minutes of torture (which Steve called, making sure Y/N had gotten her daily dose of laughter - as it was the best medicine and he didn’t need her falling ill any time soon, because...well...he didn’t have any apples on deck), he stopped, finally allowing her a breath of stability. He scooted down so he could cross his arms over her stomach, half his face buried there as he watched her collect herself.

It was moments like these that Steve truly cherished the most...he wondered if Y/N had the same mindset.

Because he’d honestly, never felt so good with anyone - not even with Nancy, who admittedly, was someone he’d actually held some feelings for (of course, the emotions Y/N threw at him had always overshadowed them, but Wheeler breaking his heart didn’t hurt any less). Steve had never wanted to give someone the world - mainly because it was impossible - but he knew that if Y/N simply suggested that such an action would, make her even smile for a few seconds...he’d figure out a way to do it within the next twenty-four hours.

You know, you’re like really pretty. Do you know what you do to me, Y/N? Is what Steve so hopelessly wanted to say, but he didn’t, instead, settling for a much simpler version.

“You wouldn’t be able to pull off this hair like I do...which is why...if you really wanted me to, I’d teach you my ways,” it came out as a harsh whisper of sorts - his jaw not having much movement as it was pressed to the crook of his elbow, both arms still rested on Y/N’s abdomen.

She laughed, and it sent a vibration through his body as he was rested atop her - only resulting in a chuckle of his own. The same wave taking ahold of Y/N, as Harrington’s chest rose and fell with each quick, shortened breath.

It was like they were in their own little world...too bad Dustin throwing a pillow at Steve’s head had to ruin it.

“So, we’ve come to a conclusion...,” Dustin explained, watching Harrington awkwardly try and sit up off his sister - Steve’s face burning up. Though, Y/N was in no better condition...her hands found her neck and her cheeks were a lovely shade of sunset.

“Oh, yeah?” Steve hummed while glancing at a nearby digital clock. “It better not be something crazy - ‘cause it’s almost ten o’clock and I think some of you need to get home.” Y/N nodded in agreement, leaning over and using her hand as a terrible shield,” Nice one...trying to act all momma bear like...I think they’ll definitely say you’re the better parent now.” “Har, har. Your sarcasm wasn’t necessary, Henderson,” Steve noted while flicking her forehead.

“We all need to go upstairs,” El suddenly directed. A hand raising to point, as if proving her sentence true.

Steve froze, unsure of where this was exactly going...but seeing as El usually had only good things to say...and a good intention...he nodded, words slow as he spoke,” Okay...okay...we’ll go upstairs then.”

They all marched up, like eight odd ants in a line - and when Mike suggested they watch a movie before Steve and Y/N drove them all home; it was quickly unanimous (which was a hard deal, as both teenagers knew getting six hardheaded children to agree on something was worse than trying to get Billy Hargrove to turn down a pretty face and a tight dress).

“Uh, ‘kay then...I guess we’re watching...a movie now,” Steve mumbled, trying to figure out the sudden change in pace. He was sure they hadn’t even finished their round, or match...or whatever they called it (he had only tried to play DnD once and...well...that’s a story for another time).

“I’ll see if there are any blankets, Mike, would you mind seeing if there’s any popcor--,” “Oh....you’re not watching the movie...did you think you’d be watching it with us?” Was Wheeler’s response.

Six shit-eating grins and twelve hands shoving a Scoops Ahoy employee and a caring older sister out the front door later...and Steve found himself standing on the porch of Mike Wheeler’s house - the kids he and Y/N were supposed to be watching having locked them out, without their wallets or keys...or even a hint at what they were doing outside in the, now cool summer night...

“Great going Steve,” was all she said while staring at the closed door.

He whipped around on her and glared while crossing his arms.

“Wha-- me?! I don’t remember you helping with, I dunno...six dipshits shoving us out the damn house!”

“I didn’t think I needed to...Mr. Better Than Me...I was clearly wrong.” Y/N smirked.

Steve couldn’t even be fake mad for long. It ended with the pair laughing and shaking their heads, clutching their stomachs and asking for the kids to let them back in. Without an answer...Steve questioned what this was all about; remembering the boys giving him (crappy) advice on how to ask Y/N out. I mean...this is one way to force a guy between a rock and a hard place...

“Screw it, screw them, screw babysitting - screw this,” Harrington lamented. “No cars, but we got legs...wanna just go for a walk until our meddling kids decide to let their old folk back in?” He was going out on a limb, but...he couldn’t help it. Her presence was just so damn addicting...he wanted as much as he could get without having to pay the price of embarrassment just yet.

“Sure, Steve, sure.” with a gentle smile and a giggle...that was all the hype he needed to take her hand and pull her from the stoop.

“Well, m’lady - then let me lead the way.”

---

Hm...I can’t help but want more to this....partttttt 3 anyone? >.<

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x henderson reader #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #dustin henderson x sibling reader #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #eleven hopper #steve harrington fluff

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ocsideblog · 5 years ago

Text

massive liminal infodump

november knows basically nothing about her mom's family. she won't talk about it, determined to avoid or change the subect when it's mentioned. all november knows is that her mom left home when she was about 18 and hasn't spoken to her family since. the only information november has to go off is an old polaroid of what she can only assume is her mom's family, and an even older book. she found these items in the attic when she was about six. her mom wouldn't talk about the photo, and had no explanation for the book - probably an old halloween decoration or something, it's not in any real language. november gets the book to play with if she wants it.

november, now a 20 year old photography student, and her 14 year old brother noel, are on a train to the town of Limbo to finally meet and stay with their mom's family - their aunt, uncle, and cousins. she is determined to know about them and to find out what caused her mother to become estranged.

upon arriving in the small town, november learns that one of her cousins, julie, had gone missing at the beginning of the year. another girl named cassidy schaerer, daughter of the editor of the town's weekly newspaper, had also gone missing around the same time. the two girls were best friends, and julie's car had gone missing as well, so people just thought they ran away. her father thinks this is most likely, complaining that julie has always been rebellious. her sister, adelaide, doesn't think it's that simple - she keeps these thoughts to herself, however, because she needs to be the 'perfect daughter' and not disappoint her dad. cassidy's father thinks something is up as well, but he isn't so quiet about it.

over the year november learns from mr. schaerer, who becomes like a father figure, that people have gone missing before. it's simply covered up, he says, because the town does not want to seem unsafe, and they have enough problems as it is. the town is dying out - young people often move away, there aren't that many jobs around, and the future doesn't look promising for small town life here.

as the year goes on, november's grip on reality is also tested. while on the train, november had a nightmare - driving down some back road, a deer in the middle of the road, swerving to avoid hitting it, crashing - which becomes recurring, getting more frequent and more vivid as the year goes on. along with the nightmares, she begins hallucinating - mildly and rarely at first, but getting worse as time goes on. images of decay haunt her. she also feels a strange connection with her cousin julie, although she doesn't know why - maybe it's because some people said they're alike in some ways.

- - - - -

ok so november and noel are siblings, and they arrive in the town of limbo to stay with some family members theyve never met before - their aunt, uncle, and cousins. when they get there, they find out one of their cousins - julie - has gone missing, along with her best friend whos a girl named cassidy. cassidy is the daughter of the man who runs the town's weekly newspaper. people view him as sort of paranoid and determined to think the worst when CLEARLY the girls just ran away. he doesn't get along well with the mayor of the town, john brennan.

john brennan really wants the town to get big someday, have a mall and eventually expand and put the town on the map. he wants to feel important. he has a wife named mary and a six year old son named charlie.

november's super curious to a fault, so like. kinda really nosy. she NEEDS to know everything and WILL investigate. and she feels a weird attachment to her missing cousin so she becomes like... determined to figure out what happened. her cousin adelaide - the Perfect Daughter whos secretly gay and dating another girl named jane - confides that she also doesnt think julie ran away, but cant say so to her father who'd get mad at her for being a conspiracy theorist.

november also becomes close with mr. schaerer, the town's newspaper guy, who becomes like a father figure to november and comments about how shes got some stuff in common with julie, who had also been like a daughter to him because she was best friends with his daughter and because julie's dad is this strict conservative type and thought she was a disappointment so he wasn't all that nice to her.

the town's in trouble - a lot of older conservative types frightened by progress, a lot of industry and stuff that'd die out with modernization, crops aren't doing as well, young people moving away, etc.

there's a priest named father alonso brennan - he's the mayor's half brother - who seems kinda guilty, like he's hiding something.

november gets these recurring nightmares of a car crash, and sometimes hallucinates that things are old and decaying or hallucinates people looking deadish and stuff. when she tries to talk about this to most people, they think shes crazy, and since its 1983 and her aunt and uncle - mostly her uncle - are conservative types, theres a lot of stigma surrounding mental illness.

mary brennan kinda tries to bond with her, try to get her involved with the town and stuff, at the suggestion of november's aunt, hoping that'll distract her from being like this.

also november works at an antique and curiosity shop for antioch, whos this sort of eccentric weird guy who supposedly moved to town after retiring early because he had money so now he's chilling. she doesn't get paid because she's working off a debt - noel accidentally broke a skull while goofing around when they were just checking out the different stores, and november offered to work off the debt so noel wouldn't have to, since neither of them had money.

it turns out father brennan DID know something. he had seen john and mary brennan burying a body out in the woods on january first sometime between midnight and 3am - cassidy's body. they had told him they hit her in a car accident, because they'd been driving drunk, and were trying to cover it up because they were scared and still drunk and afraid it'd hurt their lives and careers and stuff since john brennan's the mayor. alonso kept the secret because he was always close with his brother, and didnt want to ruin his life, but the guilt is eating him alive because he's generally an honest person but his honesty and his loyalty are in conflict. sometime around october he arranges to meet up with mr schaerer and tell him the truth about his daughter.

the next day, schaerer is found dead in the woods. the local police say it was a suicide. november doesn't believe this. she confronts the priest, knowing he was one of the last people to talk to her, thinking maybe he found something out somehow - priests hear a lot in confession after all. he tells her about knowing cassidy was buried in the woods, and how she was killed in a drunk driving accident, near where schaerer died - he also genuinely thinks it was a suicide, out of grief for his daughter. he won't mention who did it, using the confession thing as an excuse, his values are still in conflict.

november sneaks out in the middle of the night to go to that place in the woods and search for her body, see how much of this is true. after digging, she finds remains that are decayed WAY past what they should be. there's also nothing to indicate a car accident, the skeleton isn't broken as far as she can see, and there's a weird rusted ritualistic dagger in the grave, and some weird symbols that look kinda familiar but she can't place them at the moment (hint its the book from the attic)

shes not sure if shes hallucinating or not, and she doesnt know who to trust at this point. she comes back to the grave later that day with someone (i havent 100% decided who yet) but they like. don't find anything, like the grave never existed. this doesn't make november look any more mentally stable.

as new years eve approaches, the moon family - including november - are invited to the brennans' new years party. mary offers november an old dress to borrow since she doesn't really have any, and her cousins dont have the same size as her, the dress doesn't fit mary brennan anymore anyway, she owned it when she was younger, wore it on her wedding years ago. at some point during the party, after eating or drinking something which was handed to her, november doesn't feel so great. she passes out.

she wakes up, hands tied behind her back to like. a pillar or tree trunk or something. there are six others also tied up the same way, in a circle. to her horror, she realizes noel is one of them. next to each of them stands someone from town - 7 people in total, including john brennan and her own uncle. mary brennan stands beside her. they're doing some sort of ritual. november thinks this must be another hallucination or nightmare. it has to be, right? there's no way this is happening. she's forced to watch as one by one the other people are sacrificed - including noel. this can't be happening. this can't be real. she can't do anything to save noel.

november was saved for last as a special offering. mary brennan tells her that she is a Special sacrifice, that she believes Death has grown fond of her, so mary is offering this girl as a special sacrifice in an attempt to earn his favor in apology for having lost the book, which her ancestor stole a long time ago. she's the only one in the cult who has actually seen and been in communication with Death, and is also the only one to know this year has been repeating. she's hoping for the loop to end, and the town and everyone in it to be allowed to exist forever immortally.

she finishes the ritual, calling forth Death to claim this sacrifice. november can't see properly, between tears and it being dark outside and - this feeling like she's slipping out of reality, dying? falling asleep? about to hallucinate again? or emerge from the hallucination? she isn't sure and it terrifies her. the figure approaching out of the woods looks somewhat familiar,but different. antioch, from the curiosity shop. his hair's down though, and something about him isnt..... right. the vibe in the area has changed dramatically, feelings of dread that are hard to describe. she calls out to him for help anyway, but receives no response. he ignores her, approaching mary brennan. says something to mary brennan about not being forgiven, better luck next year, and mary brennan begins throwing up blood and slumps to the ground. he - whatever sort of entity he is - moves closer to november. says something to her. she feels a sharp pain in her chest. he's carving something with his nail, which is like a claw. he's also telling her to give in and let go already, that she should have done so long ago, shes far too stubborn and foolish, shes still resisting whatever this weird sensation of slipping away is. she vaguely notices, between the pain and the weird feeling, that her surroundings and the people in the area seem to be decaying. this has to be a hallucination. it has to. she lets go, thinks shes closing her eyes........

but is actually opening them. weak sunlight filters through a smashed window through the trees overhead. a dream. it wasn't real. she looks around. it turns out that what was real was the car crash, and all that had been some sort of coma dream. she begins to get up, to become aware of her surroundings, her injuries, noel.

she looks over and he's there, he's worse than her injury wise. he isn't breathing. she tries to wake him. he won't wake up. he's gone. it's too late. she feels horrible. this is her fault. if she hadn't been so curious. she digs through her bag, looking for her phone. her stupid book from the attic is there. she feels stupid. her curiosity about some stupid halloween prop and about her mom's past, which was probably mundane and some sort of argument, got her brother killed. she finds her phone at the bottom of the bag. a little cracked but it turns on. no signal though. she starts walking toward the road and follows it, searching for a signal. she has to call her mom. she has to let her know what happened, to confess that it's her fault.

as she's walking, she realizes her chest stings worse than her other wounds. she looks under her shirt at it. the sigil thing from her nightmare. it can't be. it has to be some sort of coincidence. it doesn't look like a normal wound, somewhere between a scar and a tattoo, turning black, but also bleeding a bit still, she brushes this off as being not all there and being shaken up. she just found out her brother died, of course she's not going to be all that mentally stable. she keeps walking. she gets a signal, weak. she calls her mom. keeps trying. finally gets an answer.

she tells her mom everything - they'd set out to go on a road trip and find out about their mom's family. it was her fault noel died, if she refused to take him. she swerved to hit a deer. her fault. her mom blamed herself, for not telling them about her past and for being so dodgy about it. november comes to the outskirts of an overgrown ghost town as she's walking to get a better signal. completely abandoned, decaying, familiar. she fears what her mom's going to tell her. that her sister overheard her father's plans to sacrifice her, as a part of a cult thing, and she promised her sister she'd leave and never look back, so she did, late 1982. something in november's mind clicks. it's 2015. her mother's name is julie.

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supernaturalfear-moved · 6 years ago

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STUDY : SAMANTHA ERIN GIDDINGS.

tagged by : stole it from @fakesfate

— BASICS.

IS YOUR MUSE TALL / SHORT / AVERAGE?

sam is only five foot and one inches, definitely one of the shortest of the group and is definitely reminded of it a lot.

ARE THEY OKAY WITH THEIR HEIGHT?

over time she got to be okay with it, having always been the smallest in her class or group, however she never lets it stop her from doing anything. she makes up for her height in strength and having the attitude of somehow who is probably a foot taller than she is. she might be small, but she can keep up / beat some of the guys who are who much taller and larger than her.

WHAT’S THEIR HAIR LIKE?

a honey coloured blonde with natural sun bleached highlights throughout it, has been a vary of many lengths over the years, usually depending how confident she is feeling. the lower her confidence / higher anxiety, the shorter her hair becomes. however she usually likes it either short to a pixie cut or long enough that she can style it in a way to make sure that she can keep the majority of her face.

DO THEY SPEND A LOT OF TIME ON THEIR HAIR / GROOMING?

considering her active lifestyle, she showers a lot and takes good care of her hair, never wanting to get the passing comments from girls like emily or jessica about the state of it. however, she does like to experiment with different ways of styling it from the different kinds of buns, braids or updo’s she can do depending on the activity she is doing.

DOES YOUR MUSE CARE ABOUT THEIR APPEARANCE / WHAT OTHERS THINK?

she might act like she doesn’t care, usually due to her feeling like no matter what she does, she will fade in the background compared to the other girls, but she does try to make some kind of effort especially if she isn’t doing something overly active, like just going to spend time with her friends. out of her friendship group, some of the group’s opinions mean more than others, the majority are often dismissed but the small handful that are her closest friends definitely mean more to her than she would admit.

— PREFERENCES.

INDOORS OR OUTDOORS?

depends. it would usually be outside, no matter what the weather or season, rain or shine, she can find some kind of activity to do that she will enjoy, whether it be hiking / climbing / surfing for example. however, it usually depends on whether she will be alone or with someone one else. sadly, after the events on the twins anniversary, she does lose her love for the outdoors, more due to fear of what she knows is out there.

RAIN OR SUNSHINE?

either, nothing is going to stop samantha giddings from going outside.

FOREST OR BEACH?

before the twins anniversary, she would have been happy in either. however afterwards, the beach just feels a little safer than the forest.

PRECIOUS METALS OR GEMS?

no real preference, however she definitely does not like the destruction of the earth to mine such things.

FLOWERS OR PERFUMES?

flowers, natural smells are always the best in her opinion.

PERSONALITY OR APPEARANCE?

personality, always. you can tell a lot more about a person from their personality. appearances can be deceiving and she would rather see the real person underneath.

BEING ALONE OR BEING IN A CROWD?

depends on how large of a crowd, even within the group of the ten of them she can feel like she fades into the background, overlooked by some of the more louder of the group. she definitely doesn’t�� mind being on her own, she doesn’t feel as exhausted after a day on her own than if she had spent time with the group as a whole. however, she is a lot better in smaller groups of three or four, or definitely flourishes on one on one situations.

ORDER OR ANARCHY?

order, however she does appreciate a little anarchy every now and again.

PAINFUL TRUTHS OR WHITE LIES?

painful truths, she’s usually the one who has to give them to people. however, after the events on the twins anniversary, she sees the beauty within white lies.

SCIENCE OR MAGIC?

science, seeing as it is real and can be explained. magic and anything supernatural makes her uncomfortable because it cannot be explained within reason.

PEACE OR CONFLICT?

peace is always preferred, but sadly, she is definitely the type to be one of the first to step up to fight in a conflict.

NIGHT OR DAY?

always day, there is a lot of fun to be had at night but after a while, the night just gets too much and it’s just the time to rest and hide away.

DUSK OR DAWN?

sam is definitely the type to rise to watch the sunrise and start the day early on no matter what.

WARMTH OR COLD?

before the events on the twins anniversary, she preferred the cold because it made her work harder to stay warm, plus there is a certain beauty to the cold months. however afterwards, the cold is just a reminder of that night and she would do anything to try and avoid it.

MANY ACQUAINTANCES OR A FEW CLOSE FRIENDS?

a few close friends, even in the group there is only a few of them that she would actually consider her close friends.

READING OR PLAYING A GAME?

if she’s alone, she would rather read a book but she is definitely not opposed to playing video games. for someone who is against violence, she kicks ass at call of duty, especially zombies.

— QUESTIONNAIRE.

WHAT ARE SOME OF YOUR MUSE’S BAD HABITS?

keeping her opinions and her emotions to herself. sam doesn’t emote a lot, doesn’t give away how she is feeling and whilst that comes with an element of control in moments of high emotions or panic, it also has a tendency to make it look like she doesn’t care or isn’t reacting in a healthy way. a year on from the twins disappearance, she is one of the few who is visibly less upset by what has happened. this could either be because she has accepted what everyone else has been denying ( believes that the twins are dead ) or doesn’t healthily know how express her feelings in a way that doesn’t make her feel like she is attempting to take away from someone’s pain. plus, she also has a slight bad habit of smoking weed a lot.

HAS YOUR MUSE LOST ANYONE CLOSE TO THEM? HOW HAS IT AFFECTED THEM?

before the twins disappeared, at most all sam had lost was a few pets and a grandparent. but losing hannah and beth definitely hurt her more than she could ever express. she lost her best friends because of something she hadn’t been able to stop, whilst she didn’t actively take part in the prank, she didn’t do enough to stop it. she lost her best friend, the one person she was really close to and losing hannah probably made her feel a little lost. hannah was the reason she was connected to the rest of the group, without her, she felt like she didn’t fit in and she also didn’t feel like she could trust any of them again. the event that led to the twins disappearance put a lot of things into perspective - always trust your instincts about something not being right and you can’t trust anyone, especially not the people who claimed to be your friend. apart from maybe the one person who may be able to understand the way she’s feeling ; joshua.

WHAT ARE SOME FOND MEMORIES YOUR MUSE HAS?

there’s the time that she met the washington siblings for the first time, where josh told her that there was no way she could climb the tree in the school yard, only for her to prove him wrong and then needing hannah to go get a teacher when she couldn’t figure out exactly how to get down - they were seven and from the moment she thanked hannah for helping her, they were inseparable. or what about the first her and her dad managed to get her old car running just a few months before her sixteenth birthday, a car they had been working on since she was twelve? or what about when emily had convinced her to come prom dressing shopping and actually convinced her to get into a dress that made her look like she was from a fairy tale book? the many parties that the washingtons held, the many laughs she had shared with josh and chris, the late night talks she had with josh over a joint, the different school events that the group somehow managed to find a way of ending up attending despite half of them being a year older, the roadtrips with a load of them stuck in her old car singing along to whatever song they happened to be playing. there are so many but after a while, they got tainted with pain and mistrust.

IS IT EASY FOR YOUR MUSE TO KILL?

she would have always thought that the answer to this would be yes. she was against violence but if it came down to a matter of life or death, especially if the person had done plenty to make her feel like they didn’t deserve to live the life they had, then maybe it wouldn’t be so difficult to dash towards the light before waiting for him to get out. sam definitely has a dark side that she tries to keep back, that she is often fighting within herself to be the good version of herself but if someone had caused her and the people she loved so much pain.

WHAT’S IT LIKE WHEN YOUR MUSE BREAKS DOWN?

this is definitely a slow and drawn out process. it starts with a complete shut down of emotions, she is no longer feeling anything and has no desire to feel anything. she is so good at convincing everyone else that she is fine that she almost does the same until eventually all that denial will come crashing down, usually with violent results. not that she will end up hurting anyone, it will usually be herself that ends up getting hurt as she will usually trash a room or something. plus if she starts crying, it’s not like the crying you’d expect from someone her age, it sounds a lot more like the crying of a scared little girl who doesn’t know what is happening. or it can be impulsive and irrational behaviour which would usually put herself at risk. it’s incredibly likely that if josh’s body is never found, that in an impulsive decision she would go back to try and find it herself, which possibly would end up in two ways - finding a wendigo ! josh and getting him home, or, the more likely, her death. depending on if she ever lets anyone in after the events on the twins anniversary, it would be more surprising if sam makes it through the year without at least one or more suicide attempt.

IS YOUR MUSE CAPABLE OF TRUSTING SOMEONE WITH THEIR LIFE?

sam was always the person to see the good in people, to always trust her friends and keep focused on the positive. then the prank on hannah happened and it completely broke her world view and that trust she had completely shatters. there are only a few people she would actually trust and still see the good in them, but would she trust them with her life? until his prank, josh would have been the only person she had trusted with her life. after that, there is no one she would trust, but she will forever always see the good in josh.

WHAT’S YOUR MUSE LIKE WHEN THEY’RE IN LOVE?

sam is definitely not an overly romantic person, it being her lowest characteristic. she has watched couples like mike and emily constantly argue and tear apart friendships, she isn’t sure if she would want to be involved in anything like that. but that doesn��t mean she wouldn’t be open to it, she just wouldn’t be very good at admitting that she has these feelings, especially if they were both a part of the same friendship group. she is more concerned about not causing drama than her own happiness that she would rather not say she was in love than give into it. that being said, she is definitely a good person to be in a relationship with, she’s caring, a good listener, patient to some degree and would like to see the best in her partner.

#headcanons.#study.#not rebloggable.

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