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heloisedaphnebrightmore · 4 years

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Busted [Sirius Black x Reader] - Requested 18+

Title: Busted Pairing: Sirius Black x Hufflepuff!Reader Word count: 4k Published: 4 August, 2020 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Warning: Smut! 18+ If you are under 18, please do not read! Notes: I got this request almost two weeks ago and I am so so so sorry for being late with it, but smut writing is not really me and so it took me longer to think it through. I really am very much sorry for taking so long with this one, but I hope it's good enough. (Even if I feel it's not. I don't think I have done the best I could.) Disclaimer: Both characters are of age! Summary: You and Sirius have always been close, but in the last year you have been even more involved with each other. However you didn’t want others to know about it, so you kept it a secret. Up until you both made a mistake. Request: [x]

Hey babe💓 I love so so much Fluffy supporter🥺 Now I thinking about A Smut Sirius x hufflepuff!reader Where Sirius and Reader are best friends, but have a secret relationship, (everyone suspects) but one morning after they spent the night together, the whole dining room see how they enter with the wrong ties Please🥺 - Anonymous

Harry Potter Characters Masterlist | Masterlists

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The Gryffindor common room was unusually loud. The newest hits of the year were blasting loudly from the radio. People were drunk, barely able to stand, still they kept drinking their firewhisky as if they drank water. Some people stood in the corners, chatting about the Ravenclaw vs Gryffindor match, which Gryffindor just about won, some were making out in a more secluded part of the common room, forgetting about the crowd. Of course there were others who were just a tad bit tipsy, dancing in the middle of the room, barely feeling the effects of alcohol.

You were one of those.

You danced with a huge grin across your face as you have been invited by Sirius to join the celebration. Not many Hufflepuffs were invited, only you and your friend, Y/F/N. You slightly felt privileged that Sirius never missed an opportunity to show you off. Even if they only knew about your friendship and nothing beyond that.

Sirius was someone who meant more to you than anyone combined. He was beside you in your darkest times, he was making you laugh when you felt lost. Sirius was a light that shined through the walls you built up carefully around yourself. He knocked them down as if they were never even there.

You loved the boy, you adored him. His carefree attitude made you smile constantly. There wasn't even a second you didn't enjoy spending with him.

You danced in the common room, forgetting about the drink in your hand, swaying your hips to the rhythm, almost spilling the content of your glass. You felt an arm around your waist, but you didn't stop. You knew who he was. His touches sent little shivers through your body, alarming you of his presence. You smiled happily, moving your hips in sync with his.

"Are you enjoying yourself, sweetheart?" He asked as he turned you around in his arms, letting you link your arms behind his neck. His grey eyes were attached to yours, forgetting about anyone else in the room. Your smile grew as you ran your gaze through his handsome features, stopping to glance at his full lips a bit longer than you deemed appropriate.

He realised the way your eyes wondered lower which made his usual cocky smile appear. He bit into his lower lip seductively, knowing how badly it affected you when he did that. It was utter torture for you, watching as his teeth sank into his plump pink lips. You felt the need to grab his neck and pull him down, wanting to feel those cushions against your mouth.

"Stop doing that!" You warned him as you turned around and focused back on dancing. He wrapped his arms around your waist as he let out a cheeky laughter. He leaned down to you, whispering into your ear.

"I will see you later, sweetheart." He hinted a tiny kiss in the crook of your neck, before he turned around and left you dancing with your friends. You looked up at them, finally feeling in control of your Sirius filled thoughts, just to meet two pairs of sceptical eyes.

"What?" You asked as you stopped dancing and took a swig of your drink.

"Friends, right?" Lily asked and you shook your head with an eye roll.

"Are we still on the same subject?" You questioned with a bored expression.

"I don't know about you Lily, but my friends don't look at me like that nor do they start kissing my neck." Y/F/N shrugged, her sceptical look unfazed.

"Interestingly my friends don't do that either." Lily replied, making you groan.

"He didn't start kissing me, he gave me one kiss and as I have told you numerous times before, we are just friends." You threw your arms in the air, feeling agitated all of a sudden. The same conversation has been happening over and over again and you were painfully tired of it.

"Yep..." Y/F/N said, her eyes not even leaving you for a second. You huffed in an annoyed tone, trying to keep your cool. But then you could see her gaze move behind you, settling on a spot. You turned around and your eyes met two dark grey orbs watching every little move of yours. A cheeky little grin appeared on his face and you returned the expression involuntarily. "Is he aware of you being only his friend? Because it certainly doesn't seem like he is." She raised a brow as you turned back to her.

"Just stop it." You told her, downing the glass of drink in your hand.

"Will he?" She asked, making Lily chuckle, which you simply ignored.

"He isn't doing anything. He is standing in a corner, talking to his friends." You huffed, annoyance clear in your voice.

"Yeah, he is simply ogling you. I am telling you, it's not a friendship." She shrugged and you groaned, giving up and leaving them behind. You walked up to Sirius and grabbed his wrist pulling him out of the common room, your rushed steps hitting hard against the concrete floors.

"What is going on?" He asked, but you didn't speak. You kept dragging him along like a playtoy. Although he didn't mind, he loved it when you took control and found it to be a turn on, he was rather concerned for you.

You stopped in front of the Room of Requirements, walking back and forth, before a dark brown door appeared. You walked in, seeing the exact copy of your bedroom as you grabbed Sirius' wrist and pulled him in, closing the door behind him.

"Sit." You said firmly, waiting for him to take a seat on the small couch in front of you. He didn't argue, he simply kicked off his shoes and laid down on the couch, following your order-like request.

"Can I ask what happened?" He spoke with a raised brow, being completely oblivious as to why you dragged him away.

"We-" You pointed at him and then back to yourself." are supposed to be a secret. Why are you staring at me so obviously?" You questioned, which earned a low huffing sound to leave his lungs.

"Can't I admire my girlfriend?" He asked with a bewildered look.

"Believe me, I love the looks you are giving me." You walked up to him, bending down in front of him, cupping his cheeks. "But you can not keep doing this, if we want to keep it a secret." You explained.

"It was your idea in the first place to keep it from others and I still don't get why. Everyone already knows, we just keep denying it." He rolled his eyes, heaving a deep sigh as the conversation repeated itself once again. "I'm tired of hiding it."

"I told you. I'm scared." You spoke lowly, feeling your anxiety resurface. You loved him to the moon and back. He was your everything and every time he was around you, your heartbeat went frantic. But you were scared. You knew how mean his fangirls could be. You feared to make it official in front of others, knowing you would not be able to survive the heartbreak you eventually would get from him. You didn't want others to feel pity for you.

Sirius was watching you with curious eyes, trying to figure out your thoughts, when finally it all clicked. You did make your worries clear before and he had no problem reading your facial expression after having been with you for so long.

"Have I ever cheated on you?" He asked and your eyes grew wide at the sudden question. You quickly shook your head as a response. "Do I show you enough how much I love you?" He spoke again and you nodded quickly, reassuring him. "Do you love me?" He pulled you down to him, forcing you to straddle him as he rested his arms around your waist. You breathed out a firm 'yes' before hinting a small kiss on his lips. "So what are you worried about?" He questioned and you knew you should be sure of him and your relationship, but those stupid little voices in your head confused you. You awkwardly played with the end of his tie, keeping your eyes away from him.

"Nothing is forever. I'm scared to feel weak and pathetic when you break up with me." You spoke weakly. You looked up into his dark grey orbs to see them growing wider by the second.

"Why on earth would I break up with you?" He asked, pulling you closer, keeping his gaze on you.

"I don't know. There could be multiple reasons. Maybe you will find someone better or-" You wanted to continue, but he interrupted you. He placed his hand behind your neck and pulled you down to him, pushing his lips against yours firmly. You melted into his embrace, enjoying his warm lips on yours, making all your worries disappear. As he pulled away, he didn't let you go. He placed his forehead against yours and looked into your loving gaze.

"Was I clear enough? Noone is better than you! I love you and you have to accept that. I want to show others that you belong to me and I belong to you. I want others to know that they will never have a chance to get close to you because I will break them into tiny little pieces." He grimaced, making you chuckle at his tad bit possessive behaviour.

"Give me a bit of time and I guess we can do it." You smiled sweetly, hoping for it to turn out well. You just needed time to get yourself ready. Sirius' wild grin was fixed across his face as he pulled you down for another heated kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, wanting to feel his closeness, whilst his hands wandered under your blouse, his palm running through your soft skin. "Where are those hands?" You chuckled into the kiss.

"Where they should be." He smiled as he wandered down to your neck, hinting sweet kisses along your neckline, teasingly biting into your skin to make you moan. He ran his tongue across your sweet spot, gently sucking on it as you ground in his lap. He groaned at the friction you created, grabbing your hips to steady you. "Stay put, sweetheart." He moaned against your skin, causing goosebumps to appear on your arms.

"What if I don't want to?" You whispered into his ear, stopping him in your skin's appreciation.

"Don't play dirty, I know your weaknesses." He growled in a low tone, his grey irises turning darker, filled with lust.

"And I know yours." You pulled his face closer as you started grinding in his lap once again, making him moan, trying to stop your hips, unsuccessfully. He placed his arms under your butt, lifting you up, whilst walking over to the bed. He threw you on top of the mattress, making you squeak as you landed harshly on the duvet. You didn't have time to complain, Sirius was already crawling above you, kissing you harshly, claiming his territory.

His hands didn't waste time, he was already working on your last button by the time you came to realise what he was doing. You sat up, pushing your chest to his as he took off your shirt, and undone the tie, with a swift movement throwing them on the floor.

You hurried to remove his tie, unbuttoning his shirt, wanting to feel his body against you finally. Your hand shook in anticipation, causing him to chuckle lightly as he ran his eyes across your half naked chest, playing with the string of your bra.

Finishing with the last button you yanked it off him, throwing it next to your blouse, before cupping his face to kiss him again. You linked your legs around his torso, pushing yourself up to turn the position, straddling his hips in the process. You looked down at him, running your fingertips through his toned upper body, stopping at the edge of his trouser. You grinned playfully as you bit into your lower lip, your mind already craving his closeness.

You hovered above him, kissing him firmly, before wondering down to his neck, making him moan at your actions. You left tiny kisses on his torso, gently running your nails across his chest, reaching his trousers with a cheeky smile. He returned your expression, watching every movement of yours as you unzipped his trousers and slowly pulled it down his legs, leaving the piece of clothing on the floor.

He was beautiful, mesmerising. He was an eighteen year old teenager, but he looked like a grown man who captured every thought of yours with his mere presence. You kneeled above him, kissing his collarbone, before once again you started going down to his most sensitive area. You looked up at him as you left open mouth kisses on his torso, his eyes lustful, his lips parted in anticipation. You pulled down his boxer, his erection standing proudly in front of you.

You got hold of it, slowly moving your hand up and down on its length making him growl as his eyes closed down. He was heaving deep breaths as your hand picked up a faster pace. You smiled at his satisfied state, before you took his member in your mouth, hearing his breath hitch. He growled at the warm and wet feeling, running his fingers through your messy hair. He gently controlled your movements as your head kept bobbing up and down between his thighs, making his breathing pick up a faster pace. Loud groans left his lungs as you played with your tongue around the head of his member, whilst fastening the pace of your hand around his shaft.

You squeaked as he pulled you up unexpectedly, firmly attaching his lips to yours, his kiss uncontrolled, slightly sloppy.

"That's enough sweetheart." He breathed and pushed you down on the bed, removing your shoes and stockings, before kissing you again. He started taking off your skirt impatiently, almost ripping your clothing off in the process.

"Someone is eager." You chuckled, making him groan lightly. He trailed down your neck, leaving wet kisses across your upper body. He pulled you up to his chest, kissing your neck, nibbling on your sensitive spot, whilst unhooking your bra. He took it off you, sending it to the other side of the room, his gaze attached to your chest.

"Merlin, you are so beautiful." He breathed, making you chuckle.

"Merlin?" You questioned giggling, which he simply responded by biting your breast gently. Your breath hitched at the unexpected sensation, making you fall back onto the bed. He massaged one of your breasts with one hand, whilst spoiling the other with his tongue, making you squirm under him. Your breath quickened as his tongue drew circles around your nipple, nibbling on the sensitive area.

He kept his hand working as he wandered down to your belly, kissing his way towards your underwear, before pulling down the black lace thong.

"I want to rip it off." He breathed against your inner thigh, pulling down the material as slowly as he could manage in his uncontrollable state. He wanted to feel you around him, he wanted to feel you as close to him as possible. But he liked to take his sweet time.

"But you won't." You replied as he gave you a cheeky smile and an eye roll, removing your panties and dropping it on the floor.

He kissed his way back up your inner thigh, leaving you a moaning mess as he kept away from your most sensitive area on purpose.

"Who is eager now?" He questioned, but you couldn't answer. You heaved a shaky sigh as you felt his breath against your slit, the cool air hitting hard against the warmness between your legs. He smiled proudly, before licking across the small ball of nerves, making your hip buck up in anticipation.

"Please." You breathed involuntarily, making him chuckle. He leaned closer, running his tongue across the area once more, your hips coming up to him involuntarily. He placed a hand across your lower abdomen, holding you down as his tongue took you on a rollercoaster ride of sensations, making you cry out as his fingers joined in on pleasuring you. You didn't know what to concentrate on. His playful tongue, his lips sucking on the little ball of nerve, his thick digits inside of you, the movements of fingers in and out of you or the sensation of the warmness forming a knot in your stomach. You didn't think long as you felt the inside of your walls contract, leaving you a mess of moans and screams, before releasing you to let you ride your high out.

You kept heaving heavily as you ran your fingers across your hair, your eyes concentrating on the inside of your eyelids, enjoying the satisfaction you just received.

You didn't have time to rest much as you felt Sirius' lips on yours, his tongue meeting yours as you tasted yourself. You pulled him closer, locking your legs around his hips, urging him to take you finally. You felt him chuckle into your neck. He kept kissing you, whilst aligning himself with your entrance. You gripped his hips, wanting to feel him already, firmly grabbing his skin, but he didn't move. You wanted to groan at his behaviour, but your sound was cut short as you felt him fill you up. He didn't give you time to adjust, he started pounding into you enjoying the friction between his member and your walls.

His groans were low and shaky as you watched his long black hair sweating under his heavy movements. You grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him down for a kiss, wanting to feel him even closer. He quickened the pace, making you moan his name into the kiss. His lustful eyes attached to yours as he cupped your face, watching you, feeling your walls close around him. Your breathing became uneven, your lips dried out. You felt the sensation wash over you, making your back arch, your breasts pushing against his chest, a loud scream leaving you in pleasure. Sirius kissed you, nibbling on your bottom lip whilst you got lost in ecstasy. He quickened his movements, reaching you with a loud growl leaving his lungs, before falling on top of you.

You were taking deep breaths to organise your breathing, whilst Sirius laid on top of your chest, listening to your heart beating uncontrollably. You ran your hands across his hair, playing with the ends. He hummed in satisfaction, causing you to giggle at his child-like behaviour.

"I love you." He breathed as he pushed himself up to be able to look into your eyes.

"I love you too." You whispered against his lips.

He rolled off you to go and clean himself up, leaving you time to do the same and drink a small vial you placed in the pocket of your skirt just in case this was to happen. You drank the potion, protecting you against any unwanted pregnancy and laid back on the bed, pulling the cover over you as you waited for Sirius to return.

He crawled under your cover, pulling you on to his chest, hinting a small kiss on your forehead.

"Good night, sweetheart." He spoke in a tired tone.

"Good night, love." You replied with a small yawn, snuggling deeper into his arm.

Morning came fast. When you woke up and looked at your watch, you jumped out of bed, trying to collect all of your clothes as quickly as you could. You picked up one of Sirius' shoes and threw it at the snoring boy, who shot up with a tired, but surprised expression.

"What?" He asked, not even aware of where he was for a second.

"We have to go, breakfast is almost finished." You replied quickly. Throwing all of his clothes on to the bed.

"So? We can go to the kitchen later." He said, as he fell back onto the bed.

"You know I hate eating in the kitchen. Now get yourself up." You instructed him and he finally decided to do as you so kindly asked him, whilst whining constantly.

As you stepped into the Great Hall, the place went silent. You looked around, searching for the source of surprise that came over them, before you realised everyone was watching you and Sirius. You looked up at him questioningly, but his eyes were running across the room with a suspicious look and a deep frown, just like yours seconds before.

He looked at you with a questioning look, before his eyes wandered down to your chest. A huge grin took over his expression, before a loud laughter exploded from his lungs. You still didn't understand what was happening, but then he took your red Gryffindor tie in his hands, waving it in front of you. Red... Your eyes grew wide, your lips parted as you realised he was wearing your yellow Hufflepuff tie. You raised your palms to your face, hiding yourself from the curious looks.

"Sweetheart, look at me." He tried to remove your hands, but you didn't let him. "You said you would want to reveal us anyway. It just came a bit earlier." He chuckled, not helping your embarrassed situation.

"Not like this though." You cried into your hands.

"Come on, sweetheart. Everyone suspected it already." He said as he kissed your forehead and finally removed your hands from your heavily blushing face. "Come, sit with us." He said as he pulled you up to the Gryffindor table. You could feel the intense stares you have received from the other students, whilst walking up to Sirius' friends.

"Let me guess-" James stood up with a huge grin. "this has been ongoing for a while." Sirius chuckled at his friend and waved him down, not to tease you.

"Friends?" Lily joined the teasing, making you blush even darker. You sat down beside Sirius as he wrapped his arm around your waist, keeping you close to him, reassuring you.

"Yes, we have been together for a while, we just wanted to keep it a secret." Sirius spoke up, seeing your unresponsive state.

"How long is for a while?" Remus asked with a raised brow and a half smile.

"Maybe a year." Sirius replied, causing his friends to gasp.

"Wait what? You kept it away from us for a whole year?" James questioned with a slight annoyance in his voice.

"I made him." You interrupted. "I'm sorry, I just wasn't sure. I was worried. I didn't know how others would take it or how it would affect us if others knew." You explained, looking at his friends.

"I mean, it wasn't really a secret. We kind of suspected it." Peter spoke with a shrug.

"Shut up Wormtail, you were the most oblivious one." James chuckled as he punched his friend on the shoulder. "I'm glad you finally got it out there, although it was certainly a coming out to remember." He smirked and you took a piece of carrot from the plate and threw it at him. "Hey!" He whined.

"That wasn't funny." You said as you blushed even harder, hiding in Sirius' protective arms.

"It was though." Sirius said nuzzling up against you, hiding his face in your neck as you felt his quiet laughters. You shook your head, but you couldn't hide the tiny smile creeping up on your face anymore.

Tags: I didn’t tag anyone as I wasn’t sure of the ages.

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pterodactylterrace · 4 years

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Guys Like You Chapter 14

Title: Guys Like You

Chapter: 14

Chapter Summary: Settling into family life.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: It’s so much tooth rotting fluff. Like... I went overboard with the fluff, I couldn’t help myself.

{Prologue} {Chapter 1} {Chapter 2} {Chapter 3} {Chapter 4} {Chapter 5} {Chapter 6} {Chapter 7} {Chapter 8} {Chapter 9} {Chapter 10} {Chapter 11} {Chapter 12} {Chapter 13}

"Briar." Henry whispered, popping his head into the room where the little girl was playing.

"What?"

"Mama's resting up for tonight, how about you and me go check out that park down the street?" Henry suggested, hushing the girl when she squealed excitedly. Overall, finding a place to move in together hadn't been too much of an effort. Henry found Faye wasn't too picky when it came to homes. She had been impressed by every one they had seen. They had decided on one that was on a nice quiet street, not too far from town, had a big fenced in yard for Kal, enough rooms for everyone plus a park just down the street. Briar had been begging Faye to take her since they had moved in last week, but they found it hard to find time for an adventure while also trying to settle in.

If Henry had to venture a guess, he'd say they were about 3/4 of the way there. The kitchen and the bedrooms had been sorted. Henry's office/gaming room was still mostly in boxes, as well as most of the living room furniture. So far, the only thing not boxed in the living room was the couch, which Faye was currently passed out on. They had intended to unpack more, but Henry could tell she wasn't feeling right. Faye told him it was just a headache, but Henry insisted she lay down anyway.

Now was their chance to sneak out and procrastinate on actually working on the house. Henry made sure her jacket was zipped up and her hat was secure before taking her little mitten clad hand in his, leading the giddy girl down the street to the park. Her eyes lit up when she saw all the different things to play with, from slides to swings to monkey bars, all just waiting for her to climb all over them. Her hand was free from Henry's the second her little sneakered feet touched the grass, darting off to go and play on as many different things as she could.

Henry followed after the little girl, lifting her into the toddler swing at her request and setting her in motion, unable to keep the smile from his face at her elated giggles. He had intended to keep her low, not wanting to scare the little girl, but was soon reminded of her love of baby adrenaline when she started demanding to go higher and higher. He finally reached the point where she was swinging near his face, squealing in laughter the entire time, her little mitten clad hands holding the chains as her feet kicked gleefully.

"Catch, catch!" Briar laughed, twisting around to plant a kiss to Henry's jaw when he caught the seat. "Again!"

Henry was more than happy to comply, releasing the seat and letting her swing again, stepping back and giving another small push. He had half a mind to record her time on the swings; this was the type of moment that the best memories are made of. She was so happy, soaring through the air without a care in the world. He hadn't known her for very long, but he already could tell she was growing up more. She was turning into her own little person, with her own thoughts and ideas. So stubborn, unafraid to take risks and she had him wrapped around her little finger. Just like her mother. He somehow felt bad for missing out on the first years of her life, even though he didn't know her then. She deserved to have a father figure to spoil her. She needed someone in her life to show her how a woman should be treated so she wouldn't settle with someone that wasn't right for her.

How her own father could want nothing to do with her was baffling to him. She was the sweetest little girl. She would constantly pop out of nowhere to squeeze his leg in a hug and scurry off again. Every time he picked her up, she would kiss his cheek and throw her little arms around his neck. She cuddled close for bedtime stories, always reacting like it was the first time whenever he would read one to her. How anyone could decide not to be a part of her life was beyond him, but at the same time he was glad. If her biological father hadn't been a complete douchebag, he wouldn't be where he was now, living with the woman he had fallen with so hard, so fast. He wouldn't have a house to fill with their own memories together. He wouldn't have someone special with him at the premiere tonight. He wouldn't have taken the little girl with him on a sneaky adventure to the park while the woman he loved was napping on the couch. He wouldn't have his own little family so for that, he was grateful.

"Down!" Briar decided when she swung back to him, her eyes locking on the slides and large play structure not too far away. Of course, she would want to climb on something while she was there. Henry stopped the swing's motion and unfastened the little girl, her feet barely touching the ground before she was sprinting off again toward the slides.

Henry chuckled to himself at the little girl's excitement, sitting down on a nearby bench to keep watch as she played. She was a little ball of energy, climbing the ladder to the slide and going down head first, giggling the entire time. She zipped across the play yard, climbing the large structure in the middle and going down the curly slide on one side. Henry settled back into his seat as he observed, silently patting himself on the back. She would be too worn out to throw up a fuss for the babysitter when they had to leave later. He just hoped Faye was feeling better by then. He would hate to drag her out for something this important when she felt unwell.

Her stunning dress had been delivered just two days ago, her face lighting up when she caught her first glimpse of it. Henry knew she would look beautiful in it. He also had the feeling she would look even better when he took it off later that evening. The couple had wasted no time in christening every surface they possibly could. Their bed, the bedroom wall, the shower, the vanity, the couch, the kitchen counter, the table. Everywhere they could possibly get to and not wake the baby was fair game.

Between moving, and the premiere, he also had his mother's birthday coming up. That was something he needed to remember to tell Faye about. It had somehow slipped his mind with everything else going on. He had told his mother they would all try to make it out to see her for her birthday, but he had somehow forgotten to bring it up to Faye. Hopefully she didn't have anything else planned. His mother was really looking forward to meeting her.

Henry slowly scanned around the play area of the park, taking note of everyone else around. It quickly became apparent that all the other adults were women. Most of which were currently staring at him, quite possibly recognizing who he was. He really should have worn a hat to hide behind. Would that look weirder though? A random guy sitting on a park bench, hiding his face behind a hat, watching children play? Why weren't there more fathers out with their children? Sure, his own father worked a lot when he was growing up, but he always had weekends off, and he made sure to make time for his family on those days. This was a Saturday afternoon, shouldn't there be at least one or two other men around? His overthinking was making him more and more uncomfortable the longer he dwelled on it.

"PAPA!" Henry jumped up without thinking, his current train of thought instantly cut off at the child's scream. His eyes locked on her in a second and he dashed across the playground in four quick strides to kneel down next to the little girl on the ground who was holding her knee and crying. He was suddenly grateful no other men were around. It would have been really awkward for him to go running up to someone else's kid like that.

"Hey, hey, it's ok." Henry soothed, picking her up and letting her cry into his neck. "What happened, princess?"

"I... I fell do-down." Briar sobbed, clinging to him as he rubbed her back.

"It's ok. You're ok." Henry assured, deciding then was the best time to take their leave as many sets of motherly eyes had already locked on him, now hyper aware of his presence. This seemed to be quickly going from a fun bonding experience to Henry being turned into eye candy as he tried to soothe a crying child.

Briar had calmed down considerably by the time he had gotten them home, though he decided to continue carrying her anyway. If he had to guess, she wasn't exactly in the mood for walking. He tried to be quiet when he came back inside, hoping not to wake Faye and alert her to their sneaky adventure; it didn't matter how quiet his entrance was however, as Faye was already waiting by the door when he came in.

"Is she ok?" Faye asked softly, looking at the girl still clinging to him as though her life depended on it.

"I fell down." Briar sniffed, slowly reaching to her mother for more coddling.

"I bet that was scary." Faye soothed, taking the child in her arms and kissing her head softly. "Did you fall off of something at the playground or did you just trip?"

"Just trip." Briar mumbled, cuddling close to her mother.

"How did you know where we went?" Henry asked suspiciously, raising a brow as he began taking his coat off.

"Oh please, it's not rocket science. She's been begging to go since we moved here, you'll do anything she asks and the playground is in the direction I saw you two coming from. Busted, mister." Faye explained as she helped the little girl out of her coat and mittens.

"It wasn't sweeties before dinner this time." Henry defended himself, stealing a kiss as he reached beside her to hang up his coat, taking Briar's and hanging it up as well.

"You should have woken me up, I would have loved to have gone too." Faye pouted, slowly letting the squirming child down.

"You weren't feeling well, and tonight is an important night." Henry reasoned, resting his hands on her hips and pulling her closer.

"So you really want the babysitter coming here with everything still in boxes?"

"If I hurry, I can probably make the living room look livable. At least mount the TV or something. Possibly just set the iPad up on the coffee table and pretend that's what we use as a TV."

"Yes, because I'm sure they will believe that a giant geek ass dork nerd like you would have such a tiiiiiny little screen to watch his nerd shows on."

"Well I did find myself a small woman. Maybe I just really like little things." Henry teased, kissing the top of her head.

"Who do you think you're calling small?"

"You." Henry shrugged, kissing the top of her head again.

"I will have you know, I am not small. Everything else is just big."

"That's what you always tell me that every time we - ouch!" Henry chuckled, rubbing his ribs where Faye had poked him.

"That did not hurt."

"Well it didn't feel nice either!"

"We need to get the living room unpacked, come on." Faye insisted, quickly poking his ribs again and dashing off to the living room, Briar poking Henry's hip and racing off after her mother.

"Woman! You are teaching the baby bad habits!" Henry chastised, pursuing after both of them.

"I am doing no such thing! She needs to learn your weaknesses." Faye taunted, keeping the couch between her and her boyfriend.

"I already do whatever she asks, why does she need a weakness?" Henry laughed, slowly circling around one side, both girls skittering around to the other.

"One day you may say no." Faye shrugged, squealing when Henry reached over the back of the couch, grabbing her wrist and pulling her to him.

"Now why would I ever say no to either of my girls?" Henry asked, cupping her jaw and kissing her softly.

"There might be an occasion." Faye reasoned, bumping her forehead against his, her other hand sneaking up to tickle his ribs again.

"Would you stop?" Henry grumbled, dragging her over the back of the couch and wrapping his arms around her tightly.

"I will never stop."

"Papa, no!" Briar gasped, running around to the back of the couch and grabbing her mother's hand. "Mama, come on!" She urged, trying to pull her free.

"Oh what, now you're on her side? I thought you were on team me!" Henry gasped, letting Faye be pulled from his arms.

"Gonna get you!" Briar giggled, attempting to tickle at his leg.

"Ok, now this is not fair!" Henry grouched, letting Faye go to snatch Briar up instead. "Two on one, really?"

"Papa, down!" Briar squealed, wiggling when he started to tickle her sides.

"Down? Now why would I put you down?" Henry laughed, jumping and barely suppressing a swear when Faye snatched his ribs again.

"Briar, I'll make you a deal. I'll let you go if you help me get Mama." Henry stage whispered to the child, setting her down and chasing after her mother when she darted off down the hall.

"Mama!" Briar cheered, chasing after the two, Kal now following the rest of the family to the kitchen.

"I know what you're planning, and it's not a good idea." Faye warned, slowly backing up to the counter.

"Oh, and why is that?" Henry asked, pressing up close to her, pinning her between his body and the counter.

"I'll tell on you."

"And who are you gonna tell? Briar? She's on my side now, remember?"

"Uhh... how about your mother? Would she side with me?"

"Oh!" Henry lit up, his mind jumping to another subject while he still had her trapped by his body. "That reminds me. My mum's birthday is next week, she's wanting us to come."

"That's a bit of a distance, isn't it? You have to factor in a toddler sized bladder into all travel plans now, my love."

"That is true. We also have to worry about Briar having to stop for restroom breaks."

"Oh, Mr. Somebody over here thinks he has jokes." Faye scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"We can fly there, it won't be as bad." Henry reasoned, kissing the top of her head. "She's really wanting to meet you two."

"Wait, she knows about us?"

"Faye, do you really think my mother wouldn't know about the woman I've been dating for the last ten months? We've moved in together, I think the people close to us are starting to suspect something."

"But I mean... does she know about us?" Faye asked, her eyes flicking down to the little girl trying to climb Henry's leg.

"She's excited to have another little girl to spoil. For some reason, us Cavill's just don't have very many girls."

"And she's ok with that?" Faye asked, fiddling with the hem of her shirt nervously.

"Why wouldn't she be?"

"I don't know. It's... a lot. It was a lot having you step in and step up like you did. It just doesn't seem like something a mother would want for her baby boy."

"I'm in my thirties." Henry snorted.

"Yes. You are over six feet tall, over two hundred pounds and over thirty years old. You are also her little baby boy."

"Briar, am I a baby?" Henry asked, reaching down to scoop her up.

"No, you Papa Bear!" Briar giggled, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"And there's also that. Since when does she call you Papa?"

"She just yelled it a the park." Henry shrugged. "Is it something we need to discuss?"

"Well I mean... if the shoe fits." Faye mumbled. "I just don't want her to freak you out."

"I've been acting the part for a while now, if it bothered me, I would have said something. We're a family now, Faye. You're stuck with me."

"Oh am I?"

"Yes you are. If you leave, I'm going with you. Right Kal?" Henry asked, looking down at the canine, his tail swooshing across the floor in excitement at being included in whatever was going on.

"So now I have three children to worry about?" Faye groaned, her head falling back in mock annoyance.

"It would seem that way, yes. One is very easy to care for, however. He can let himself outside and his food is on an automatic timer."

"I don't know if you mean you, or Kal."

"Alright, two of us then."

"Enough with the distractions now, Mister Sir. We have more work to do around here." Faye reminded, reaching up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek and taking Briar from his arms.

"So, I'm going to unpack the living room and you two are...?" Henry fished, reluctantly releasing Faye from her prison.

"I'm gonna help Briar get her room the way she likes it."

"Her room was the first thing we did." Henry pointed out suspiciously, his eyes narrowing as Faye skittered around him. "Oh no, you get back here, Woman!" He called, taking off after them again, mother and daughter both laughing as Faye hurried to Briar's room. He caught up with the two of them just as Faye was setting her daughter down, quickly snatching his girlfriend up and playfully biting at her neck. "You are not getting away that easy!"

"It was worth a shot." Faye sighed, letting him drag her back to the living room where he promptly sat on the couch, settling her in his lap and resting his head on her shoulder. "This doesn't seem like unpacking." She teased, resting her head against his.

"Of course it is. We are visualizing how we want it to look." Henry chuckled, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. "What are you thinking?"

"Hmm... TV over the fireplace?"

"A solid choice."

"Coffee table in front of the couch. Side table over there. Briar's little table and chair over there. Probably put Kal's bed next to it."

"He'll lay next to her whether we put the bed there or not." Henry pointed out.

"True. How good are you at putting together IKEA furniture?"

"It is definitely going to be a job for another day." Henry decided, eying the few new pieces they had gotten for the larger living room.

"The toys should probably be near Briar's table so she's not tracking them everywhere. Kal's toy basket can go by his bed. We'll find a place for the pictures once we have the big stuff figured out."

"Sounds perfect." Henry agreed, holding her a little tighter when she tried to stand up. "Just a few more minutes of visualization."

"If you keep putting it off, it'll never get done."

"I'm not putting it off. I'm prioritizing physical contact with my lady right now."

"You just don't want to mount the TV."

"It's a pain in the ass to mount that thing." Henry groaned, looking at the still heavily wrapped TV leaned against the wall.

"It's your TV."

"And I did the sensible thing and paid extra for someone else to fight with it the second time I moved."

"We should have done that with all the furniture."

"Feels less personal, though."

"That's true. Now come on, big guy. We've got stuff to move around." Faye sighed, sliding from his lap and offering her hand to him to help him off the couch, not that he needed it. She would take any excuse she could to touch him, however.

The pair got to work, Henry doing the literal heavy lifting despite Faye's protest that she could move things on her own. They managed to get the furniture - minus the TV - in place; Briar occasionally popping in with a new snack every time, offering each a bite before scampering off again. Faye was putting Briar's toys in her toy chest while Henry went through the boxes, looking for any others containing toys.

"Oh, I found the bath toys!" Henry announced, holding the box up proudly.

"Oh, great. Briar's going to be thrilled when she takes her next bath." Faye sighed in relief. To say the little girl had been less than thrilled to have a plain no-toys-or-bubbles bath was an understatement. As it turns out, no more tears shampoo does not apply when the cause of the tears is from lack of toys.

Henry was putting the toys in the cabinet, down low where Briar would be able to choose what she wanted for herself, when he first saw it. It was a blue and white box with one particular word that grabbed his attention without even trying.

"Faye?" He called, his heart in his throat as he picked up the box, raising a brow at her when she appeared in the doorway, unable to force himself to form words.

"I haven't taken it yet." Faye admitted, seeming to shrink in front of his eyes, the words on the box staring accusingly at her.

Tesco Health Pregnancy Tests

Taglist: @Xxxkatxo @Weallhaveadestiny @lunedelorient @summersong69 @mis-lil-red @lharrietg @amberangel112 @mansaaay

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill rpf #guys like you #guys like you fic

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itskatastrophe-x · 3 years

Text

Far Off Places (CH 3)

Chapter 2, Chapter 3 , Chapter 4

Word Count : 2,103

^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^

You woke up in a panic, sitting upright rapidly and crying out in pain. You winced and scrunched your face up, hands shooting up to your arms in a hug. You didn’t have any physical wounds, but you could still feel everything from the dream-state. This was the worst by far compared to any other dream you’ve had. None of them were as dangerous and harmful as this one, but you knew it had to be done. You tried to envision what the person looked like right before you woke up, but all you could remember was the lime green and concern in whatever the person was saying. That was another anomaly. The people in these kinds of visions would never be able to see you until you interacted with them, essentially NPC’s. So how was it that this one person could see you and talk to you. Out of the hundreds of dreams, this was the first time that this has ever happened. What made them so special?

A rapid, loud banging echoed in the house, and you didn’t realize what it was until you heard the door being busted in. Panic set in and you grabbed for your axe next to you, but set it down when you heard Techno’s voice ring out. You called out to give you a moment, prepared yourself quickly, then went downstairs to meet the three males in your doorway, panic evident on their features. “We heard screaming. What happened?” Techno walked further into the house, hand hovering over the hilt of his sword. “Did someone break in? No one should know where we are, ”Phil said, looking around the room in worry. You wrapped your arms around yourself, suddenly aware of how cold it had become. Techno came back and threw a blanket over you, huffing out a “clear” before standing next to Ranboo. “Maybe you guys could come in and I can explain. I’m not in danger, so you don’t have to worry, but I do have another thing I need to share.” They all looked at you curiously as they followed you to the den to light a fire and get comfy.

“I don’t know where the dreams came from or when they really started. I think they were always around, even as a kid. When something memorable happens, whether it’s good or bad, I can relive those moments through dreams. If they’re bad moments, I can essentially play detective to find what went wrong or find evidence of who did what specific thing. That’s what happened last night. The night my kingdom burned down I had no evidence, no clues, no information. Last night, I had one of my… Visions? Dreams? I’m not sure what you would call it. The only downside to these things is that any pain felt in the dream state, I feel in real life. The screaming you heard was probably because I was burning alive last night. The physical damage doesn’t stay, so visually I’m fine, but I still feel my skin stinging and it can last for hours, days, or even weeks.” You pause to let them process everything. “Questions?” They all shook their heads so you went into further detail.

“So last night I visited my kingdom as it burned down. I knew I had limited time and also knew the more damage I took, the harder it would be to recover in real life when I woke up. I had to speed run my search, essentially. I didn’t find much at all, honestly. I mainly spent the whole night running through flames and tripping over holes where the ground had been blown up. That is… Until I saw someone in the distance run past the road I was on. I followed the figure through the streets but ended up losing them. I had way too much happen and the smoke was clogging my lungs and I fell over. I almost passed out but heard rapid footsteps and a muffled voice, and right before I woke up I looked up and all I can remember… Is green. The strange thing is, though, is that in every single vision prior to this, the people are NPC’s. They don’t interact with me unless I interact with them first. So the fact that whoever this person was could see me and tried to talk to me is… Scary? I’m not sure if I should be worried about that or not. These visions never end up like that. That person is the only person I saw alive and unscathed and also tried to help me.”

“You said… Green?” Ranboo’s voice was laced with concern and he seemed more panicky than he did before. He always seemed on edge, but now he looked downright terrified. It worried you and you nodded hesitantly. “And you only ever see people that were at the scene prior to the dreams?” You nodded again and they all looked at each other. “What? What’s wrong?” Phil scratched the back of his neck and Techno huffed loudly as he got up and left the house. Their responses were concerning, to say the least. “Well,” Phil started. He took a moment. “The only people we know that are or wear green are Sam… And Dream.” You could feel the air stiffen and Ranboo got visibly more upset. “We try not to talk about the latter, but seeing as you’re new around here and you could be facing something bad, we need to talk about it. Ranboo, if you need to leave, then you can.” He sighed but showed no signs of moving. “No, if anyone has information to share, it’s me.” Phil nodded and looked at you, Ranboo keeping his eyes on his hands that held the leather bound book he had shown you yesterday.

“Well, for starters, Sam is a prison guard. He also helped build the prison, as well as a lot of the other bigger builds in the main part of our cities. He’s normally a very neutral sided person, but lately his fears have been clouding his judgement and he’s been… Making questionable choices. He let a kid visitor die in the prison with the prisoner.” They both got quiet until Phil cleared his throat. “I mean, the kid, Tommy, was revived… By said prisoner… But the fact that Sam let it happen in the first place is horrible.” He stopped again and Ranboo sniffled. “So, who is this prisoner then?” Ranboo looked up at you, malice and hatred clear as day in his two toned eyes. “Dream.” You looked at him inquisitively. “But, if Dream is in prison then how would he be an option for who I saw? These people never show up in my dreams unless they were there at the place I visit. Who is he? Why is he in prison? I have so many questions.”

“And we can answer them,” Ranboo stated. All sense of calm he had was completely gone. Just by his body language and the tone in his voice you knew already that what Dream had done to land himself in prison was horrible. “Dream is… Dream is possibly the worst person you could ever come in contact with. He’s murdered, stolen, manipulated. The list goes on. I’m sure you know of the three life rule.” You nod and he continues. “He took two of Tommy’s lives in wars in our lands. Tommy ended up putting Dream in jail after taking two of his lives. They decided that for some reason we still needed Dream. He said that Dream had… Some kind of revive book. We’ve lost a few people very dear to us so Tommy wanted to keep Dream around until they could get the book. Well, Tommy visited Dream in prison not too long ago, and while Tommy was in the cell with Dream explosions started going off and he was put into lockdown for a week. Remember the part where I said Dream was a literal murderer. He killed Tommy. Beat him to death. Then revived him.” He trailed off and you looked at him in shock. “There’s no way. Absolutely no way! After someone dies the third time that’s it! How could anyone revive someone?” Ranboo shrugged.

“Tommy came to us after and… He’s not the same anymore. Something must have happened when he was dead. He was so worried about one of our friends being revived, like genuinely horrified. It takes a lot to scare Tommy but he changed. Dream is to be feared. He-” Ranboo stuttered and got a bit more finicky with his book. Phil looked at him and rubbed his shoulder to try to calm him down. “Dream has some sort of control over us. And me I think. I’m not exactly sure. I go into what I call ‘enderwalk’ sometimes. I can’t remember anything from when it happens but I don’t think it’s bad. I write in my journals a record of everything that happens since I lose memories. I also used to… Hear Dream’s voice inside my head. Now that he’s in prison, though, I hear him less… But I’m also going into this enderwalk state more often. Let me say it again, Dream is to be feared.” Ranboo looks up at you, his features looking more sad than before, almost sorry. You notice the scars on his face but decide to say nothing, as to not offend. “So then, how do you think he could be an option?” Ranboo relaxes slightly, but not all the way.

“Dream has a counterpart to him. A second personality that we think is what gives him these abilities and all this power. Dream XD. Dream XD is a god, almost. It’s very possible he could have targeted you, for whatever reason, to enter your mind. I’m not sure how or why he would target you. You said your journey was three days long, which means you came from at least one hundred miles from here. How he would even know who you are, I’m not sure of that either. He could have reached out to find someone vulnerable or showing weakness, and that could have been you.” You let out an exasperated sigh and rest your elbows on your knees and put your head in your hands, trying to process all this new information. Phil put his hand on your shoulder, and you allowed the gentle touch to sooth you. “I’m worried about the next time you sleep,” he says quietly. “If it happens again… If you get to meet this person and if it is Dream, be very cautious. We don’t know what he wants or why he wants you. He’s dangerous and manipulative so please be very careful and think about what you want to say to him before you say it. Pick apart his words and don’t fall for anything.” You think for a moment and look up at them.

“I hate to be like this, but I shouldn’t trust any of you either. And there’s no reason to trust me. Believe me, I want to fully trust you. You all seem so nice. But we’re still strangers. I’ve had my guard up here, too. Why should I trust anything you three have to say anyway?” The room goes quiet and Phil takes his hand back. Ranboo tries to disagree but Phil cuts him off. “No, Faer is right. You can’t trust us, as much as we can’t trust you. But you have to at least give us a shot. We can protect you. Techno is… A loose canon sometimes, but he means well and if he knows I mean to protect someone, then he protects too. He tried killing Ranboo when he first showed up here, but when he realized I had taken him in, he started protecting him with his own life. He means business.” You nod but stay silent, the only sound in the room being the crackling of the dying fire and dogs barking softly from a distance. Phil gets up from his seat and looks down at Ranboo, who was reading through the book on his lap, quill in hand, completely lost in thought. “Ranboo, are we going?” Ranboo doesn’t respond, too lost in thought to notice, so you speak up. “It’s ok. He can stay as long as he likes. I made this room as cozy as I could on purpose. I write as well and planned to use this as a sort of getaway.” Phil nods and you walk him to the door where you both say your goodbyes.

#dream smp #dsmp #mcyt #dreamXD #c!dream #x reader #reader insert #platonic #lore #fanfic #fanfiction #ranboo #enderwalk #roleplay #OC #OOC #AU #dsmp fanfic #dream x reader #prison break #angst

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im-moreofa-dogperson · 3 years

Text

A Fearful Encounter - Part 4

Featuring: Dr. Jonathan Crane aka Scarecrow x Female Reader

Warning: gun violence

Summary: After John’s promise to free you from the wretched Gotham city, he teaches you how to defend yourself so you can make it on your own. However, when pushed far enough, you may just be more than he’d made you out to be.

Words: 1890

Previous parts: part 1 part 2 part 3

**Sorry it took so long to post this new part!

____________________________________________

As if on cue, as soon as John had professed his intents to help you escape from the vileness of this city, you were startled by a knock at the door.

You both looked at each other, as if questioning whether the other knew who was there. After it was clear neither of you were expecting company, John grabbed hold of your hand and pulled you quickly to your room where there was a fire escape.

Just as you unlatched the window, you heard the door swing open and crash against the wall. You hurried along raising the window, scattering the dust that had collected on the frame, and quickly climbed out with John right behind you.

He jumped down to the ground first and caught you by the waist after you landed right next to him. It wasn’t until you’d made it into his car and drove 3 blocks away when you finally felt it was safe to breathe again.

You rolled your head over against the head rest to stare at him. “Who was that?”

He glanced over at you and quickly back to the road before responding, “not sure.”

You sat with this uneasiness for a few blocks before he finally pulled up to what must have been his apartment building. It was far more casual than you had expected although you weren’t quite sure what it was you were expecting.

A young girl and her mother were exiting the building as you were walking in and they barely gave you or John a single glance. You wondered if any of the residents were aware of who they were more or less bunking with. Maybe John paid them off to keep quiet.

Upon entry to his apartment, you slowed down in the door frame to take it in. Although you hadn’t been picturing a dungeons-like cavern with spikes on the windows and knives fanned out on the coffee table, you also hadn’t expected such a pleasantly pleasing atmosphere.

The living room was well furnished with a not so well-lived-in couch pushed up against the wall of which an antique, baroque style painting hung from. The dark, morose hues of the depicted scene fit well with the borderline demented passions of the man who hung it.

Otherwise, the room was casual and almost homey. John had been studying you while you took in his apartment before finally speaking up; “you need to learn how to defend yourself.”

Taken aback, you glance at him and respond, “what”?

“Well, this is only a temporary residency,” he goes to say, plopping his keys into a turquoise bowl on the coffee table. “Eventually you’ll be on your own where I won’t be able to jump in and rescue you.”

You snort at that and reply, “Yeah, and you won’t be able to put me in a situation where I need rescuing either.”

“Either way, you need to learn.” He smiles slightly, and it’s a smile that used to suspend you in uncertainty, but now you’re able to get enough of a read on him that you know he’s simply trying to assure you of his sincerity.

You agree to his proposition nonetheless as he leads you to the building’s basement to practice self-defense.

******

For the next few days, you painstakingly practiced fending off attackers through physical altercations as well as how to shoot a gun. John didn’t make things easy for you, constantly pushing you to do better.

You were reminded of the disappointed expression he’d wore on his face when he’d found you’d overwhelmed a security guard through force during the Fear Aversion Therapy.

Ironically, the very thing he’d once punished you for doing, was now the very thing he was teaching you to be better at.

During your lessons, you noticed there was an abundance of physical contact between the two of you. You suddenly recalled the first night you ever spent together when you’d kissed him in a lapse of judgement.

You tried not to dwell on these thoughts too much as John held your trigger finger under his in an attempt to better your aim. You could feel his breath against your exposed neck and once again fought the urge to turn around just then and kiss him.

To take your mind off these intrusive thoughts, you considered how you were in need of fresh clothes. Afterall, you’d been living at John’s place for three days and still hadn’t revisited your old apartment for your stuff.

After badgering John to drive you after your lesson, he finally agrees, and you head out back to your old home.

******

Walking up the concrete stairs that you’d once found so familiar felt alien to you now. Though it hadn’t been long since you’d resided in this home, you still felt as though you’d changed so much.

It was almost as if it wasn’t you that had once climbed and descended these stairs for years, but rather a stranger you’d left behind in the past. For good reason.

When you reached the door, you extended an arm out to the handle, but as soon you did, John gripped your wrist and held you still. You give him an inquisitive look before realizing what he must have been thinking.

The intruder that you’d barely escaped from three days prior most likely wouldn’t have cared enough to shut and repair the door they’d just busted through. Meaning someone else has been here. And that someone could still be here.

John clearly was thinking the same thing as he took out his gun and cautiously opened the door handle.

When he pushed the door open, what you saw made you drop your gun. You barely even registered John mumbling ‘shit’ under his breath.

“Dad?”

******

“Thought I was dead, huh?”. Your father simply asks. He was lounging on the couch as if he’d never left. “That why you look like you’re seeing a ghost?”

The state of shock you’re in prevents you from even answering him. John, however, recovers much quicker than you.

“Thought I told you what would happen if you ever came back here,” he says. You immediately sober up at this threat of John’s. The implication of it being he knew your father was alive and never actually killed him like he’d told you. It was simply another tactic to instill more fear in you. Fear of him.

You know you should feel betrayed. You should hate him for tricking you yet again. All that was behind you now, however. Now all you felt was pure disdain for the man sitting in front of you, the throw blanket you’d once lent to John lying at his feet.

“What are you doing here?” You ask as apathetically as you could.

“Straight to the point, huh? Not gonna ask how I’ve been, what I’ve been up to, if I wanna catch up-“

“Like you ever gave enough of a shit to ask me any of that,” You scoff.

Abruptly jumping to his feet, your father points an accusatory finger at you and replies, “I did give a shit about you! Everything I did was for you! You don’t even know the half of what I’ve had to give up. For you.”

His statement was so foreign and ridiculous to your ears that you feel like laughing. How could someone be so delusional?

“Everything you did was for yourself. The best thing that ever happened to me was hearing about your death.”

At that, John whips his head to you. He’d been watching your argument back and forth like a tennis match, in an almost amused way. He knew some sort of violence would ensue upon seeing your father, but this he didn’t expect.

“Fine,” your father says sighing, and sitting back down. “I’m here because I need your help. Well, I need your connections. I’ve come into some trouble… something that I can’t run away from.”

You squint your eyes trying to decide what he meant by all this when John suddenly laughed mockingly and said, “Sir, I thought I made it clear that if I were ever to see your face again, mine would be the last you see. What makes you think I’d submit to any request of yours?”

Having put everything together given your advanced knowledge in the deceiving ways of your father, you answer for him, “because he thinks I’ll convince you on his behalf.”

“Look, I just need you to use your little home-brewed concoction on some guys who think I owe them money.” You shake your head at the all the unearned confidence your father must have in order to talk to Jonathan Crane like that.

“Or maybe I’ll use it on you,” John simply threatens.

“Enough!” You finally say. “No one’s doing anything to anyone. Dad, we’re leaving. You’re on your own. Your favorite game of scaring me into doing your bidding is over.”

John puts his hand on your waist to push you out in front of him towards the door. As you leave, however, your father begins to laugh. It’s a guttural laugh that stirs your darkest memories of him.

Without thinking about it, you slip your hand into John’s jacket pulling out his gun and train it at your father’s head.

John eyes you curiously, and in the strangest of moments you finally realize what draws him to you. You’re unpredictable. You act in ways in even you can’t anticipate.

Your father’s laughter stops when you pull the trigger.

******

The walk back to the car was a blur. You remember vomiting in the stairwell and then John eventually scooping you up after your legs had given out.

When he set you back in the passenger’s seat and began driving, you knew you needed to pin down how you really felt before you drove yourself insane. One of the many lessons you once learned as John’s patient.

You knew it wasn’t regret you felt. Although the information of your father’s murder had once been used to threaten you against escaping Arkham Asylum, you had still sighed a breath of relief at the mention of it.

Now, to see him again was like a waking nightmare; unsure whether his presence was real or imaginary, but positive that it was unwelcome.

You definitely felt shock. You’d been imagining this scene unfolding for quite some time, but even you were surprised to have found yourself reaching for the gun and pulling the trigger in such an unyielding manner.

Though, what it really boiled down to was exhilaration. You felt as though a weight had been lifted off your shoulders and for once, it was by your own hand. You were no longer the scared girl you once were standing with her back to the sea and a total dependency on the hand extended out before you.

You giggle as you almost compared yourself to the Great Loch Ness Monster in all her green finned glory that you once thought you’d be swallowed whole by. Your giggle soon turns rampant and you fail to stop the uproarious laughter that then pursues from you.

Even with Scarecrow in the driver’s seat, you felt as though you’d finally taken control. Of your mind, and your trigger finger. You laugh like that all the way back to the apartment.

______________________________________________

#jonathan crane #scarecrow #dc fic #dr jonathan crane

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cartoonfangirl1218 · 3 years

Text

5 times Leonard was surprisingly affectionate

1 They had been loitering at the New York Zoo and Sara was just uncharacteristically frigidity. She kept inching towards the bird section that was chaotic with sounds of macaw squawks, dove coos and the never ending screech of some tropical bird that Leonard hated. The noise was driving him nuts.

Stein had advised that it would be a great place for a 3rd date as that if they had an awkward pause, there was an automatic conversation starter if a lion ever got loose. Right now he wished a lion would go on a rampage right now and kill those stupid birds.

Sara really seemed to enjoy the trip so far, he didn't get the big deal it was just a bunch of animals in caging staring back at you. Or just sleeping.

Sara just smiled and dragged him to the bird aisle. Leonard couldn't help but give a small smirk. He really liked her smile, it was bright and casual. Yeah, that's it, casual. Not too big or that blinding smile that made him feel warm all over.

Just casual.

He was with someone he trusted. Not a daily feeling in Leonard Snart's life. He hadn't felt safe since he killed his father with the cold gun those many months ago. Or was it a year?

But with Sara it was different kind of safety. An emotional one. That she understood what it was like to be one of the bad guys. The feeling that no matter what you did, you couldn't be redeemed. The vulnerableness of being with all those "heroes," the disbelief that you could ever become that good.

She went through it to. She got through it and somehow it made him feel hopeful that he could too.

Sara raced past the tropical birds and scanned the name cards. Then a beep sounded. From Rip.

"Savage, 1997." was his message.

"Oh,” Sara sighed, shook her head and strode confidentially out of the zoo.

At the Waverider, the team was leaving the base after Rip informed them that getting Savage before the Team had formed might be their only chance at saving Carter and maybe getting another muscle. Sara was leaving to her room to get a katana, when Leonard stopped at her door.

"I got this before we left." He handed her a wooden canary that started to play a simple tune.

"How did you?" Sara gently took the canary, a giddy smile unconsciously spreading over her face. "I have my ways."

2 She had been shot by Nyssa and was lying on the hospital bed getting stitched up. She stated that she didn't mind the pain, it was numb to her, she had worse things. But Leonard could tell she was in pain.

Just not the physical kind.

Leonard was aware of her past with Nyssa and he could just imagine the hurt of her former lover shooting her in the shoulder.

To be fair, Nyssa didn't know who Sara was. She was just raised as Ra's daughter, to kill. Sara had been standing between her and Chronos. He also knew Sara was berating herself for getting shot, for being weak.

"Sara, you can't blame yourself." "Yes, I can!" Sara protested "I knew she didn't know me, and I kept telling her what a good person she was. It was just stupid. I'm so stupid. Ugh!”

"No you're not. You're badass but not stupid."

"This is not the time." Sara glared.

"Fine but I'm taking your night watch" - Night watch was when two team members stayed at the base to study any activity from Savage then shifted to another two later in the earlier morning. Today was her turn to watch with Stein and Leonard was suppose to take the later one with Ray.

"Leonard, I'm shot not disabled, I'll do it." Sara insisted. "No, you won't." "Yes I will." "No, Sara." He leaned close to her, whispering in her ear, "It's okay to be hurt right now. Just sit and relax" Then walked away.

Sara remained in her bed like Leonard told her and in the morning she heard the toy canary by her bedside, singing and an exhausted Leonard was asleep in the chair next to her.

3 The third time was four months after they made it official. They were boyfriend and girlfriend and life couldn't be any easier, well love wise, the world was still in danger.

They were watching the Matrix on the couch and Sara had fell asleep at some point when the Matrix exploded.

Sara because of her assassin tendencies and the probability everyone tried to kill her in her sleep was a very light sleeper.

Sara hadn't been sleeping lately for various reasons, Nyssa being one of them. 2nd timeline Nyssa shooting her had been a recurring nightmare.

The sound of the Matrix exploding had been surprisingly calming, like how she wanted to kill someone and that just watching someone in pain made her feel better.

Sara had woken up to someone brushing her hair, she was about to stand up and ask what he was doing when she felt him lay his head on hers then he put her head on a pillow and walked away.

Sara shrugged and went back to sleep, probably some his brooding walks of thoughtfulness.

A few seconds, she heard him tiptoe back and put the blanket over her.

4 "Sara what were you doing?" Rip yelled.

Leonard cringed as Sara frowned. Sara had just killed a flight attendant that was preventing her from getting into Savage's private jet.

The killing had accomplished the goal to get into the jet, but Savage still escaped, Sara was covered in blood and the news reporters were more than eager to get the headline of Victor Scolia's attempted murder, assassin in jail.

Then the team having to go to jail to bust her out hadn't made Rip's twitch any better.

"My job to get Savage," Sara replied stiffly.

"By killing the guy. You could have just hit him on the head and be done with but now all of Cincinnati has your name on America's Most Wanted." Rip continued on with tirade on how she must use simpler means such as a small blow to the head to make people unconscious, not dead.

Leonard gave a small internal sigh himself. He knew how difficult it was for her. The spent many nights were Sara discussed her bloodlust and how she wanted more action. She needed to feel the blood over her hands, smooth and sticky and know that she was alive because she ended someone else.

Besides it was more practical, sealed the witness more quickly. But since his little deal with Scarlet he had resided these urges. Then again, he hadn't been resurrected from death in a Lazerus pit so this must be a different level of bloodlust.

Sara strode to her, poised as usual. But he noticed a slight dejected slump. She knew she screwed up It was best to leave her alone.

But the part of being a supportive boyfriend wouldn't let him.

Sara was sitting in her bed, staring at the wall.

"I had to kill him. For myself. Like a monster," Sara muttered, vaguely registering his presence.

Rather than doing another one of the talks that had been played over before, he sat next to her. Sara leaned against his chest and screamed in frustration. He slowly patted her shoulder.

5 She attempted to cook for him for their first anniversary. It was a simple meal, just some mashed potatoes and an omelet but it went wrong.

Really wrong.

She had burned both the egg and potatoes and left the bottoms scorched. She had tried to make it up by posting ice cubes to lessen the heat. Leonard felt a little fearful for his stomach but gave a shaky smile in return and put on his best poker face.

"Enjoy," Sara sat down with her own glass of water and played with her eggs.

Leonard noticed the way she looked at him worriedly. "She really wants me to like it.” Leonard thought and decided faking until he made it would be the best option. Just this once and it was for her.

He took a forceful of egg and shoved it in. It tasted awful. The grease and the smell of smoke filled his nose and mouth but Leonard valiantly continued and ate it all. Breaking a chair leg in the process of trying not to let his pain show.

The next morning Leonard was excused from work due to food poisoning that he blamed at the Taiwanese McDonalds.

Though Sara just knew it had to be her cooking. But he didn't say a word, he just smiled and ate those eggs.

And that was anniversary gift itself.

And the 1 Leonard had been in the shower in the men's room. Staring himself in the mirro r in disgust. He had ran into Lewis once more during their missions in the timeline and the scars across the front of his chest glared mockingly at him.

Of all those years of obeying the dead bastard.

Nothing big occurred between them, not wanting to mess up the timeline and such but seeing him again just brought back all those memories.

He pulled on his parka and strode into the HQ. He hit the table over and over with his fist, cursing.

Sara walked in, "What is it?" She asked soothingly.

"The bastard" he replied "The damn bastard that did this to me. The bastard that treated me like his flunkies for diamonds. Couldn't hold his damn liquor. The loser doesn't know anything. He took my childhood and put me in juvie he put a fucking bomb in my sister's head just so I worked with him because he couldn't do it himself! I have spent half my life in hell!"

"Hit me," Sara commanded, holding up the palm of her hands to hit. Leonard hit immediately, the impact only pushed her a few feet backwards.

”Harder." she insisted.

Leonard continued to hit her hands until her hands turned red and he was kneeling to his knees with effort.

Sara quietly lifted his head and hugged him. His cold body melted into the warmth of her arms

#captain canary #white canary #leonard snart #captain cold #sara lance #rip hunter #dc’s legends of tomorrow #my fanfic #my fanfiction #5 times Leonard was surprisingly affectionate

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taylahshearman · 3 years

Text

Cancer Fundraiser Event 2021

Hey guys!

I know I like to be bubbly and happy on a lot of my posts but this ones a little more serious today. I have decided to start a little event to raise money for cancer research and to help cancer patients and their families through these difficult times.

I personally had a family member lose their battle with cancer. His loss has hit me very hard this year as it does for his close friends and family each year that goes by.

The reason I’m doing this fundraiser is because I want to contribute to the people fighting this terrible illness, the family and friends around them and to remember the ones who have passed. I want to use the platform I have created for something good and to give back, to spread awareness and raise money for people that are fighting and or have fought.

The charities I have chosen to go with for this event is:

Canteen

www.canteen.org.au/

This particular charity I have chosen is one I’ve known about for years as they usually sell bandanas at school and local events here in Australia. They focus mainly on youth cases of Cancer, which isn’t the whole spectrum but it’s where I want to start and where I want to focus my effort. These are a few of the things they do support and help cancer patients and their friends/families:

- Counselling and Individual Support

- Helping to connect young cancer patients with other young people online.

- They provide peer support and programs.

- Providing youth cancer services.

- Providing books and resources.

- Showing useful links.

- Providing online support for parents of the cancer patient.

The Starlight Children’s Foundation

This charity is a household name in Australia. They run a lot of events throughout the year fundraising to provide. This is a charity that personally helped my family member who had cancer. Here is a short description of their charity and what they do via their website:

Bringing Happiness to Sick Kids and Teens

At Starlight we know that happiness matters to sick kids facing the pain, fear and stress of serious illness. That’s why we work in partnership with health professionals to bring the fun, joy and laughter that is essential to sick kids’ health and wellbeing.

From one Starlight Wish granted more than 30 years ago, we now create over half a million Starlight Experiences to sick kids each year.

All of those experiences are based on the needs of seriously ill children and young people. Our programs are supported by research and evaluation to ensure excellence in everything we do. Starlight is Australia’s broadest reaching children’s charity and recognised as an integral part of the healthcare system.

How we’re helping in these challenging times

We continue to work as closely as ever with our hospital and healthcare partners around Australia to ensure we can deliver the positive impact of Starlight that sick kids need more than ever.

We are well placed with many digital Starlight programs already in place. We are also exploring new technologies and innovations such as ‘virtual’ experiences with Captain Starlight, boredom busting Surprise Packs, daily craft activities to do at home and a regular newsletter ‘Fun with Captain Starlight’. With the exclusion of travel, we continue to grant life-changing Starlight Wishes.

So while 2020 will look very different, Starlight continues to brighten the lives of seriously ill children using the power of positive psychology to support wellbeing and resilience. Because now, more than ever happiness matters.

I will personally not be taking any money myself as I know some people can find this sketchy and a one way ticket to fraud. Because of this, this is how the donating will work.

1.;Message myself to let me know that you are interested in joining the event. You can either DM me on Twitter, Facebook or Instagram or email me at: [email protected] .

2. Donate whatever amount you desire, however most of these charities have a $5 minimum just as a warning.

3. You can DM or email me your receipt (of course you can cover personal details if necessary) as proof of the donation. You can choose to donate as much as you want or as little as you want.

4. You choose a print. For now the sizes will only be: 6” x 4” or 5” x 5” depending on the print. If you want a bigger size please message me at step 1, this may require a higher donation.

5. You dm or email me your shipping details and your print shall be shipped asap.

And most importantly, the rules:

If you are under the age of 18 please ask an adult before donating, I will not be responsible if your parents are upset that you stole their card details for this event.

I have every right to decline a print request before the donation has been made. These reasons would be most likely if this gets really popular and I run out of money, therefore supplies. If you make the donation when you have been told no previous then you will not be sent a print.

If you send a false/fake receipt you will not be receiving a print (and honestly, that's just gross to do so don’t do this).

I’m not particularly sure how long I will hold this event for as I don’t know the popularity of how it will be, but I’m hoping for the best. Again thank you all for reading this and I hope you consider participating in this event.

Taylah / Hikaru

Update!

One donation = one print ❤️

Each print is individual, not in a group as presented.

#cancer #charity #fundraiser #cosplay #awareness #fuck cancer #photos #prints #Australia #starlight #canteen

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aching-tummies · 3 years

Note

Have you ever dealt with food-restriction or ED or whatever?

I really debated answering this one. I understand that it's a sensitive topic for a lot of people, and I do go into some personal details with my struggles, so I'm going to put most of that under a cut.

I know a lot of blogs have something like "we do not stan ED in this house" and that's the extent of their address on the topic and some get pretty angry if anyone even mentions ED around them. I get it, it's a triggering topic and it can be unhealthy and maybe hearing about it or seeing it or whatever pushes someone (back) into bad habits. I understand all that. In my opinion though, shutting down the topic is problematic. I believe that destigmatization saves lives--and not just for ED. Making it a dirty little secret and something one feels ashamed of talking about or struggling with creates more problems. It doesn't go away just because someone feels they cannot talk about it. I'm on the side of destigmatization--where "how are you" is an actual question rather than a casual greeting where "good" or "great" are the only acceptable answers. No--it's supposed to be a question and we shouldn't have to feel ashamed when we are going through crap. Maybe neither party has time to get into it then and there and maybe the other party isn't comfortable/or the right person to go to with those particular issues...but "how are you" is supposed to be a genuine question, not a greeting.

Short answer to whether or not I've dealt with food-restriction or ED: yes.

I don't want to invite drama onto my blog with this...but I think it's time I said something on the topic. For one, I'm sick of how people go "we don't stan ana on this blog--GTFO" and leave the discussion at that. I don't think that is healthy. People that actually struggle with EDs and Ana maybe want to get help...but professional/formal help is not always accessible and not necessarily always the right tool for what they are going through in that moment. I understand that EDs are unhealthy and I am not trying to glorify them...but I want to say that I care about the people struggling with the stuff and I admire their resilience. There's enough shaming going on around the world and I'm not going to dish it out to someone struggling with an ED. I'm not going to make it out to be something that's taboo to talk about like it's some dirty little secret. I want to de-stigmatize it. I want a world where someone can be like, "I struggle with food/eating and I had a setback last night" and those of us listening can be like, "Alright. Is there something you need/want me to do with that information? How can I help?" Currently, I see a lot of, "Shh! That's a triggering topic! Do you want to set off all the other ED suffer-ers in here?! Don't talk about that noise!" even in my IRL friend groups and I think it's just sad. These are the same friends that are constantly reblogging, "It's okay to not be okay" and “I’m a safe person to tell stuff to” stuff but clearly they don't believe that.

The way I see it, living with EDs is like living with a pet alligator. It was once small and cute and early on maybe you made one choice: you chose to keep it. Great...well, now it's grown and it's a problem and you don't know what to do with a full-grown alligator that eyes you like you're it's next meal. Who do you talk to when everyone shuts you down and maybe there isn't an "animal control" number you can reach out to because it's expensive or it doesn't exist in your area or they're so over-booked that you'll be alligator-chum before they get to you? That's how I see ED. It's terrifying but it's still 'your' pet alligator, even if you feel more like it's pet human at times.

Onto the personal aspects.

I've never been officially diagnosed with an ED and I don't believe I've ever done something that's extremely dangerous on this front. That being said I have (and sometimes still do) struggle with intrusive thoughts about my body.

I'm "average" sized...maybe on the bigger side of average in North America...however, there's a different standard in Asian culture. Like the "Asian F". I was always told I was supposed to be smaller. I was supposed to be no more than 5'3, no more than 110lbs, have a bust no bigger than 34C, and be able to fit into anything marketed to teens and up. Yeah...I'm none of that.

I'm going to try not to rant and get angry and upset...so here goes, take 7 on trying to answer this.

I grew up surrounded by judgmental adults. I eat and I'm fat; I refuse to eat or eat less and I'm exhibiting worrisome behavior. My take away: I bring dishonour on my cow no matter what I do. Sure, there are those that'll be like, "they'll judge me whether I eat or not so I may as well eat some good food"...yeah...that's not me. Choosing to skip the meal and the company entirely is the only way I feel/felt like I 'win'...but as a child that wasn't an option.

I mostly ate alone in University, but my brain filled in for the silence of judgmental comments. If I ate my whole lunch in one sitting I'd get upset with myself. I'd pack smaller portions and I'd be aware they were smaller, but I'd still be upset with myself for finishing it...or even finishing it and still being hungry. If I caved and bought a sugary drink or a snack or something because it looked good, I'd scold myself for using up the food budget as well as the calories budget. I used to break apart individual cookies--one cookie would take 3-4 sittings/days for me to allow myself to finish because I'd only allow myself two fractured pieces at a time. Some days, i.e. weekends, I'd intentionally skip a meal or two and rationalize that I was simply indulging in kink and that I'd eat later. I always did end up eating later and going about my life as normal. "Fasting once in a while is supposed to be healthy", I'd tell myself...but I won't deny that there was some part of me that would tell me that every skipped meal and calorie ignored was gradually working toward shrinking my body.

Despite how it sounds, I wasn't actually doing noticable damage to my body. Physically, I was within the realm of healthy...maybe on the bigger side of average and definitely not mentally sound...but my body was fine. My body didn't change--I didn't gain or lose weight. I ate...I just felt bad about it and beat myself up about it. In retrospect, it was a heck of a lot of mental anguish I did to myself with nothing to show for it.

Life after University is pretty stressful. Stress doesn't agree with my tummy so I got (and still get) frequent upset stomachs. I've become pretty conscious of eating and how my stomach feels so I end up being careful to eat less so that there is less to upset my tummy. I do it because an upset stomach is inconvenient...but I do enjoy the fact that it seems I have lost a little weight. Losing weight isn't a big part of my rational though. My coworkers have mentioned that I look thinner. I don’t see much of a change when I look in the mirror...but my belt does up two notches tighter without too much fuss so I guess I have slimmed down just a smidge. I didn't intend to lose weight, I just cut down on eating because I didn't want to deal with so many upset stomachs...I think I'm allowed to enjoy the unintentional weight loss without it being a problem...but if I had a problem then I guess what I think about this situation doesn't count for much.

I wish I was thinner--just enough to fit into acceptable sizes in the women's section. Enough to not feel like "the big one" when among my friends. I don't idealize the extremes of weight-loss...like...I don't want to be able to count my ribs or have my joints be wider around than my biceps or whatever. And I don't feel like I'm obsessed with losing weight/being thinner. It's something I want...but I also want a burrito and a can of Cola. I tend to partake more than I deny myself nowadays...just in smaller portions. I’ll still get mad at myself for indulging...but I do indulge and try to lessen the mental kicking by splitting things between two meals or something. I still break apart my cookies and eat them over the course of a couple of days...but most of that is because I run out of time to enjoy the treat or because I want to ration it so that I don't have to spend money to buy another one every single time. I don't try to count calories and all that. I still see eating less as a good thing...but I'll still eat a decent portion...I won't pick at my food rather than eat it.

My opinion here, but I don't think I'm unhealthily obsessing over weight and body issues and stuff. They're a part of my life but I don't think they do enough to be super problematic at this stage in my life.

And now onto the tie-in with the content on this blog. I've answered quite a few asks about how I feel about 'stuffing' and the thing that rhymes with "Geight Wain" with "for reasons I don't want to share, I'm not comfortable with that stuff". Most of the reasons I was thinking of for those asks is covered in the personal stuff above. I'm not comfortable with stuffing and the big "double-u gee" because for all of my life I've felt or internalized some judgements about body size and weight. It's very upsetting for me. It's also why I hate a lot of the degradation talk and things mentioning chub or fat or rolls or whatever--because it brings be back to being a kid sitting amongst judgmental adults feeling ashamed of how much of the universe’s matter I took up. If other people like those tags they're free to do so...I just don't want that sort of thing shoved into my face or imposed onto me because it makes me feel bad and makes me remember bad times. I’m into tum-kink and stuff and would love to indulge IRL with an actual partner someday...but I don’t think I will ever be comfortable with putting on weight or even RPing something like that. The thought of getting bigger terrifies me and it’s not something I want encouragement for personally. You do you if that’s what you’re into...just leave me out of it.

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leialannister · 4 years

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Why C+B=R doesn’t work...

*rubs hands*

This is going to be fun…

I’ll start with busting the evidences that the theorist gave to make their theory believable (I’m not trying to mock them here btw don’t get me wrong) and continue with other factors why they simply do not work.

1)Follies done for love.

So the first thing the theorist talks about is Catelyn’s Tully morals and stuff, then they give Catelyn’s thoughts when she learns of Robb and Jeyne’s marriage as one of the evidences.

Only then came her belated remembrance. Follies done for love? He has bagged me neat as a hare in a snare. I seem to have already forgiven him.

-A Storm of Swords, Catelyn II.

They claim that the “follies done for love” is actually about Robb’s parentage.

“Brandon knew how to take what he wanted. Seems like he begged some,

(We will wed on my return he vowed) and she agreed,

hence the follies done for love.”

This could have been a good comment of the paragraph if we didn’t have a much better and realistic cause for her thoughts which is Jaime. Catelyn freed Jaime to get back her daughters, the daughters she loved fiercely, and she believes they are under Cersei’s claws, who she also blames for her husband’s death, and I don’t think I have to talk about the love Catelyn bears to Ned, for I never shut up about it. (Mind that Catelyn was unaware that Arya had escaped from the capital when she freed Jaime.) So no, passing off Brandon’s bastard as Ned’s isn’t the follies done for love, but freeing Jaime Lannister.

2)I did so gladly.

Here, the other evidence is that she marries Ned gladly and in a haste, because she’ll pass the child as his own, and she shouldn’t be far along or showing by the time they marry.

“When Brandon died shortly before they were to wed, Catelyn now having realized she is pregnant does not want her baby to grow up a bastard, so when told she must marry Ned in a haste, she does so gladly, planning to tell him that the child is his own.”

The problem here is how they interpret the word “gladly”.

Highborns rarely have the chance to choose whom they marry, especially if they are a woman and it’s their lord father who had arranged the marriage for them. (The Queen of Thorns, we all know she’s just another level.) Keep in mind that Catelyn is the favored child of Tully, (I love the Tullys but sorry Hoster that’s bad parenting 101) she is probably even more loved than Edmure, the heir to the Riverlands, and being his precious child, he wants Catelyn to be happy, for she deserves the world (FACTS!). But the man is also ambitious as fuck, she wants both daughters to be the wifes of high lords, and mother high lordlings. This is a great chance at hand, probably that comes very rarely too, considering the heir to the North has always had a Northern marriage. But Catelyn, being the dutiful daughter she is (Family, Duty, Honor) answers the way it would please her lord father.

And when Lord Hoster promised her to Brandon Stark, she had thanked him for making her such a splendid match.

-A Clash of Kings, Catelyn IV.

And when Brandon was murdered and Father told me I must wed his brother, I did so gladly, though I never saw Ned’s face until our wedding day. I gave my maidenhood to this solemn stranger and sent him off to his war and his king and the woman who bore him his bastard, because I always did my duty.

-A Clash of Kings, Catelyn IV.

She marries off Ned “gladly” because she has always done her duty, not because she wants to pass Brandon’s bastard as Ned’s.

3)Jon Snow…

“Another issue is the way that Catelyn treats Jon. Jealousy is understandable, but it's very uncommon for a woman and a mother, with maternal instincts, to treat a small child so badly.”

The whole Jon Snow/Catelyn relationship is severely misunderstood, and I think that is why this is mentioned in the theory.

The thing is… Catelyn rarely even treats Jon. She simply ignores him to at least make his presence bearable. Jealousy comes a long while after Jon is born and brought to Winterfell, and that never makes a change to Catelyn’s behaviour.

She might have overlooked a dozen bastards for Ned’s sake, so long as they were out of sight. Jon was never out of sight, and as he grew, he looked more like Ned than any of the trueborn sons she bore him.

-A Game of Thrones, Catelyn II.

Her problem is not Ned banging another woman in wartime, it’s that this child is in her home, where her trueborn children lives. He lives pretty much in the same luxuries with her own children. This might be bold of me, but there is no other ACKNOWLEDGED (The Baratheon (!) children are out) bastard in the Seven Kingdoms who lives in much luxury under such conditions (like Ned lacking a true born heir, etc.). As their marriage and relationship progresses, my parents (Ned & Cat) fall in love and this is where you can assume the jealousy comes in. She loves Ned dearly, fiercely, and it not only breaks her heart but makes herself feel as if she’s not enough to see that Jon remains in Winterfell, no matter how many sons she had bore him. Aye, she is aware that Ned is bestotted with her, but just like everyone, she has her dark moments where she wonders if she could never fill the hole that the bastard’s mother had left behind (Let’s not forget to mention that she doesn’t even know if she had ever left his heart at all). Despite being a fictional character, Catelyn is still human, and no one can ever blame her for being a human. That is what makes her a greatly rounded and complex character in the first place.

It is also confirmed by George R. R. Martin that Catelyn has never abused or mistreated Jon in any way, other than the time she snapped at him when Jon came to bid Bran farewell.

“Mistreatment” is a loaded word. did Catelyn beat Jon bloody? No. Did she distance herself from him? Yes. Did she verbally abuse and attack him? No. (The instance in Bran’s bedroom was obviously a very special case.) But I am sure she was very protective of the rights of her own children, and in that sense always drew the line sharply between bastard and trueborn where issues like seating on the high table for the king’s visit were at issue. And Jon surely knew that she would have preferred to have him elsewhere.

-George R. R. Martin.

“Keep in mind that the only way a bastard can threaten a trueborn 1st son is if the trueborn son is actually a bastard.”

Umm, no? The kid is a danger to all, especially if something were to happen to Robb. After all, Catelyn’s other children are also a part of the line of succession after Robb.

“In the show Catelyn says: “All this horror that's come to our family, It's all because I couldn't love a motherless child”.”

I think I have talked enough about how this scene totally ruins Catelyn’s character, and my opinions on this matter can be understood pretty clearly from the explanation I made about Catelyn and Jon’s relationship. The show is full of bullshit, and this is just one of them. (see my twitter account for this)

4)EvEn CeRsEi?!

“When Catelyn discovers Cersei's children are bastards who are not Robert's, she thinks:

"Would even Cersei be so mad? Catelyn was speechless."

Why EVEN Cersei? Why not simply say Cersei?

She can't believe another woman did the same thing she did, which is to let her husband raise another man's child, as his own.”

LMAO, she is talking about the freaking Targaryens!!! Cersei is literally the queen of the man who dethroned the mad incest supporters and she finds out that his wife is doing the same exact thing! Don’t you guys think it’s ironic? Well, I wonder what makes Catelyn so shocked...

(Oh and by the way, Cersei, baby you were so right..)

5)16,20,50 & Some Height Issues

“This is what Catelyn thinks about Robb: “Let him grow taller, she asked the gods. Let him know sixteen, and twenty, and fifty. Let him grow as tall as his father, and hold his own son in his arms. ”

So let’s ask ourselves Why these numbers? Does Catelyn just pick them out at random or is there meaning behind them? They certainly don’t seem to apply to Ned and yet they fit perfectly when applied to Brandon Stark  -Brandon was 16 when he met Catelyn and they fell in “love” -And was 20 when he died. -Although Rickard Starks exact age is unknown, I believe this is who Catelyn is thinking of when she says 50, Robbs Grandfather who died with Brandon.  So here we have Catelyn's thinking of Robb's life: may he live to meet a girl and fall in love, may he not die at 20 like his father or die at 50 like his grandfather. may he hold his own son in his arms, something Brandon was never able to do.”

This is one of the most well-thought evidences, but it’s wrong nonetheless.

Brandon Stark was born in 262 AC, and Catelyn was born in either 264 or 265 AC, we do not know the exact year.

So yes, he died at 20, but Catelyn was 12 when her father promised him to Brandon. That makes Brandon 14 or 15 when they met and “fell in love”.

Oh and the mention of “tall”:

““ Catelyn watched a breeze stir his auburn hair, so like her own, and wondered when her son had grown so big.

Fifteen , and near as tall as she was. ... Let him grow as tall as his father"

Catelyn specifically noted how disappointed she was with Ned's height, compared to Brandon who was tall.

So how DID Robb get so tall if Ned is short?

And if Ned is so short, who does she mean when wanting Robb to grow, as tall as him?

Again this sounds like Brandon to us.”

Brandon being taller than Ned doesn’t mean Ned is short. Considering the average height for men is 5’9 today, someone who is 6’3 is tall. A man who is 6’1 is tall as well, but shorter than other. This is the same case. Ned is never mentioned to be short, he is just shorter than Brandon, who is mentioned to be tall.

5.1)Fall in love

Oh, and just fyi, Catelyn was never in love with Brandon. Yes she might have liked or even loved the idea of him and their live together, but never really loved him.

6)When possessive pronouns confuse the f out of you

“"She had brought him forth in blood and pain, not knowing whether Ned would ever see him. Her son.”

so Why say HER son?

This is how the sentence should have been like,

Given the premise that Ned is Robb's father:

"not knowing whether Ned would ever see him. His son.”

Or:

"not knowing whether Ned would ever see him. Their son.””

So ok, I’ll admit that this is the best one by far. There’s nothing I can say to deny them, though Catelyn does mention the children as “our” and as Ned’s son as well. And while might imply, it does not give the theory %100 accuracy.

7)Nine moons

Catelyn thinking about Robb:

““Brandon Stark had bid her wait as well.

“I shall not be long, my lady,” he had vowed.

“We will be wed on my return.”

"Yet when the day came at last, it was his brother Eddard who stood beside her in the sept. Ned had lingered scarcely a fortnight with his new bride before he too had ridden off to war with promises on his lips. At least he had left her with more than words; he had given her a son.

Nine moons had waxed and waned, and Robb had been born in Riverrun while his father still warred in the south.

Nine moons since when? This paragraph started with Brandon, not with Ned.”

Nine moons since ‘Ned had lingered scarcely a fortnight with his new bride before he too had ridden off to war with promises on his lips.’ I think this was pretty clear but okay. Considering the huge hate towards Catelyn, I’ve come to a conclusion that Martin’s works are very open for misinterpretation.

8)A son

““he had given her a son.” He did give her a son, instead of a bastard.

By marrying Catelyn, Ned has effectively turned her Bastard into a son.”

I think this would have been again one of the best well thought, if Catelyn mentioned more than words to Brandon as well. She basically said that Brandon just left her with words while Ned gave her more. If Brandon gave her bastard, she wouldn’t have just said “words”. Yes, she might not have mentioned it as “a son” but there would be more than that.

9)Lord Dustin is Actually GRRM in a nutshell

““On Catelyn’s own wedding night ...

When Lord Dustin had beheld her naked, he’d told Ned that her breasts were enough to make him wish he’d never been weaned”

Breasts are the very first to expose a pregnancy, way before the belly shows.

Why would GRRM make the effort to give us this little tidbit of information about how her breasts reminded men of nursing?”

I think this is just a way of GRRM describing his type. Quoting grrmartin from Tumblr:

“Catelyn’s descriptions make her seem like the most attractive woman in Westeros. And people comment on her beauty frequently. Unlike Dany or Cersei, people do not fear or need to compliment Cat in the same way. GRRM, the author, married 2 redheads. He clearly has a type. And based on your logic on what makes somebody the most beautiful, LF started the War of the Five Kings because he loved the beautiful Catelyn Stark, even after over a decade of not seeing her.”

see the original post here

GRRM’s like of hot women is known, and “hot women” by classic standards are big breasts, a slim waist and wide hips. They are big guys. Ned Stark is a lucky man. Don’t overread. Not to mention that Catelyn tells herself that she’s given her maidenhood to Ned. Yes, maidenhood does mean an unwed woman, but it is also the synonym of “maidenhood”.

9)First time

This is, again, a controversial remark, I personally believe that it’s her instinct. She felt it. Though, the way it could work is very simple.

Her moon blood might have been early due to stress or coming after a few days they wed anyway. This was a time of war and they didn’t wait till women were most “available”.

10)Timeline…

Ok so I was going to continue with the other stuff that the theorist had mentioned but this is getting too long and I’m getting bored. So let’s bust this theory with the simplest thing: Timeline!!!

“Age: Brandon died in 282AL , Rob was born in 283AL. Time wise, it's plausible.”

“they had spent that year apart, Ned off at war in the south”

This way, because she gave birth at Riverrun without Ned, Ned would not know exactly how long after he left Robb was born.

Robert's Rebellion timeline is speculative, at best.

This is how I think it went, in chronological order:

1. Catelyn and Brandon Conceived Robb at Riverrun.

2.Brandon left for KL, and died.

3.Ned married Catelyn BEFORE calling his banners, to make sure he has the Riverland's support. Riding all the way North from the Vale, only to go all the way back in times of war seems unlikely. Ned probably sent someone in his name to call his banners, while he went to wed Catelyn. This would place their marriage likely far less than 3 months after Brandon left Riverrun, probably around 6-8 weeks after Robb's conecption.

4.Ned goes to war.

5.Jon is born.

6.Robb is born.

Brandon dies In the early-mid of 282 AC (With the words arriving, Rickard coming to Kl) since Lyanna’s abduction happens early in the year. Then Aerys demands Ned and Robert’s heads so Jon Arryn calls the banners and Ned returns to the North and Robert leaves for Stormlands to call the banners. Then, The Battles of Summerhall happens, followed by Robert’s defeat in the Battle of Ashford. Having retreated to the Riverlands, The Siege of Storm’s End starts and we know that the defenders were already in bad shape “by year’s end.” Ned and Catelyn marry after the Battle of the Bells, since it is a double wedding and we know that Jon Arryn loses gallant cousin and heir, Ser Denys Arryn, so he needs a young wife to produce an heir. This means that Catelyn and Ned married in the early 283 AC.

If Brandon had impregnated Catelyn, she would have been heavy with child by the time they married, and Robb would have been big enough to know he’s not Ned’s by the time he meets Robb. I think this is the biggest evidence that this theory simply does not work.

11)Significance of Parentage

Robb getting in the list of the secret parentage reduces the significance of parentage. There are way more believable parentage theories (and canon ones like the Baratheon (!) children) out there that concerns other families, and they have much more evidence other than the crumbs here. Everyone being a secret bastard takes the excitement of the better ones like R+L=J or A+J=CJ (love this one, don’t think it’s true but love it anyways).

In conclusion, even if I’m wrong, and Robb is actually Catelyn’s son (though I know Catelyn to be better than that, there’s a reason why I stan her) it makes literally no impact to the storyline. Robb is dead, Ned is dead, Brandon is long dead, Catelyn is dead, at least the part of her that made her Catelyn is. How other people will be aware of this is a dilemma as well. There has to be a good reason for Bran to look from the eyes of the Godswood of Riverrun. The only way this can have an importance is Jeyne being pregnant, (The chances are quite low on this one.) though not much would come of it anyway.

#catelyn stark #ned stark #ned x cat #catelyn tully #catelynstark #robb stark #brandon stark #brandon x catelyn #tbh c+b=r is pure bs but i tried my best to remain respectful #catelyn is baby and people think she's a heartless cold bitch #honour people...#cat has it you know

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shnowbilicat · 4 years

Photo

FNAF Squad Reference Sheets

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The time has finally arrived!

After many years of cursing myself about making Reference Sheets fo my characters I pulled myself together and busted out 4 Refs for my main FNAF Squad! X3

... never ever owo

Seriously, it nearly killed me drawing these. The only saving grace was that I had a base body that I just copy-pasted and changed up a little in hights and body type/s X'D

But after 3 weeks I finally did it and I love every single one of these!! Seriously, love them, they perfect, I'm SO proud of them and myself for making them X3

And of course Vinnie had to be the first one of them all, cuz duh X'D

URGH I just love Vincent so much! Yeah, yeah, call me whatever you want, but this particular Purple Man will always be my Number 1. He's the most fun Character I made, ever, and without him I don't know who I would be today. He's important to me and I care ALOT about him <3

Rick is my soft bb boi. I love him, I love how I drew him and anybody who says anything against him is going to have a problem with me e3e

Jokes aside, I would've never thought that my 'Purple Man'-wanna be that I spontaneously made in a FNAF 2 RP would become such a great character. OP af, maybe a bit basic, but also so god damn interesting and fun.

I just can't, okay? Rick is my soft boy and I love him ... and I love him with Vincent, they just too perfect qWq

PurpleShadow for life <33

Aaaand with Keith my FNAF Universe crumbled into pieces X'D

Well, not really BECAUSE of him, but FNAF 4 really was something that was hard to add into my Universe, since it's mostly fixed on Vincent's side of the story.

But, I really appreciated Keith being made in the first place! He opened up another way to introduce the Nightmare Animatronics and with Keith there was another part of Vincent's and Rick's story to make it a little more interesting. He was also the one who gave PG a purpose in the Universe, so I'm actually really glad to have this edgy-wanna be in my squad X'3

I'm still in shock on how similar he is to Necro, a Sonic OC that is paired up with a perverted God, and Echo, a cyborg Pikachu with a bright red robot right eye, AND basically looking like a Darkrai gijinka and also having nightmare abilties. Still in shock about the Darkrai thing, since I haven't played Pokemon at all in that time, or even ownig a Darkrai of my own at that time to even think about :''3

And last but not least we have my favorite perv boi, PG X3

I remember how this boi started and I'm so glad that I managed to come up with a really good story to integrate him into the Universe without breaking Vincent's story and dangerious and dark theme.

... in return PG became one of my most tragic Characters I have, whoops X'D

Eitherway, love PG, he needs more love and more perv <3

He and Keith were the most chill Refs to make, hands down and I'm so glad that I could make them as fast as I did X'D

Together with the others I had alot of fun making these Refs and changing my boiz a bit up here and there, optimizing their designs and giving them new life in general X3

(Below are smol bios for each character)

Vincent, the Purple Man.

He's a cunning Mastermind and confident in his killing skills. He's no opponent somebody should take lightly, Vincent is fast, strong and agile, always thinking of a plan and being one step ahead from his enemy. Due to him dying and haunting an ANimatronic suit himself this Purple Guy has the ability to turn into a 'Ghost-Form' that allows him to do all the typical Ghost stuff, but sadly all of that just for a very short time. After his victims forgive him however, seeing the torture Vincent was going through, he was given another chance at life, with a new body that doesn't age and can heal itself. Vincent doesn't really like other people and shows off his own confidence to stay ahead. But sometimes he can be a real dork around his friends and have a great time with them, joking around and messing with them.

He smokes from time to time and drinks ALOT of coffee to try and stay awake for his own sanity, as grueling nightmares of his past horrid actions still haunt him to this day. Vincent tries his best to forget as he has been forgiven, and also make up for what he has done, but some habits are hard to break and some wandering spirits are still after his second chance of life ... .

Rick, the Shadow Man.

A friendly and helpful individual that would give his life for his friends. Don't take him as a fool, Rick might look like your average goody two shoes, but the moment somebody harms him or his friends Rick pulls off his kiddie gloves. His Ghost-Form, also known as his Shadow Form, is the most dangerious creatures somebody could face. Hvaing all the abilities as a Ghost, plus controlling shadows, hiding away in them, modifying his body, having a radar-like abilty making him aware of his sorroundings and the people around him; Rick is a force to be recken with. All these abilities he gained after his best friend, the Purple Man, killed him in a blood rush, making Rick a haunting, vengeful Ghost and fusing with the darkness around him. Though after Rick realized how much hurt he gave Vincent he forgave him and is now walking the world with anew life and body, that doesn't gae and can heal itself.

Rick is an optimist and will always try to talk things out. He loves kids and can play the guitar very well. His past does weight hard on him, but he tries to move forward enjoy his new life with his old and new friends.

Keith, the Nightmare Man.

He might send out vibes that make people think that he's rather emotionless, non caring, maybe even easily angered. And even though Keith likes to burst out in anger or annoyance, that is all in good fun. Behind the dark facade is a really warm hearted and nice guy that cannot sit still whenever someone is crying or hurt, if just a bump or a serious injury. He has very deep expertises in both mechanical, technical and the mdeical field and is always there to support his friends and innocent people cought in the middle. Due to Vincent, Keith lost his life as well, but started to walk the wolrd again as a raging vengence dragged him back into the living world. This gave him the push to show off his skills and new abilities to form dreams to his won will, creating nightmares and even forcing people to do his bidding and create abominations that could tear appart anything he pleased ... which were his former friends, Vincent and Rick. After a violent fight though these two men showed Keith the light and he too was forgiving them for what had happened. Now he works together with his old friends, protecting his new and improving his skills even more, while stitching his friends back togetehr whenever they dare to get themselves into trouble.

Keith can be really serious about his work, but he knows how to laugh and have a good time, showing off his new creations and lovingly helping and caring about his friends. Though his past actions have created something he still curses himself for.

PG, the Purple Guy.

What can be said about this guy? He's a careless, chill and very perverted guy, that lives life without a second thought. PG looks and acts alot like an idiot, but deep down he's just as dangerious and inteligent as Vincent, as PG himself is a Purple Guy as well. His origin is from a differet Universe and due to an unfortunate circumstance he ended up as ginue pig for experiments and a slave for another's amusement. His spirit was broken ... until something happened that gave PG the will to escape and follow his new friends, Vincent, Rick and the others back to their world. With his own world destroyed and nowhere to go he wandered around and bumped into Keith,bonding with him and even becoming a memeber of the new Fazbear family. PG also died and got pulled back, but compared to the others, his Ghost form and self healing ability is broken and unstable to say the least.

He doesn't like to get in serious trouble, but loves to tease and have fun with his friends, while also drinking like there was no tomorrow and annoying Keith with his sexual advances and jokes.

#vincent #vincent the purple man #the purple man #rick #rick the shadow man #the shadow man #keith #keith the nightmare man #the nightmare man #pg #the purple guy #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #reference sheet #art

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kohanayaki · 5 years

Text

Caught in the Middle (Steve Harrington x Reader x Billy Hargrove) Ch 3

Links: Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7

______________________________________________________

Ch 3 .:An Eventful Evening:.

The rest of the week went by in a flash. You adjusted pretty quickly to your new school, and you were starting to make some new friends as well. After the whole basketball-to-the-face incident you found yourself talking to Steve more. He always made you laugh during your classes together and his friends were fun to hang out with too. You started eating lunch with their group and they welcomed you in like you'd been friends with them all your life.

However, there was someone else who slowly started to weasel his way into your daily life:

Billy Hargrove.

He'd let up on the flirting at least a little bit, but he still insisted on trying to talk to you. At first you were tempted to tell him exactly where he could shove it, but your mind drifted back to what you saw at his house. Of course his circumstances were no excuse for his behavior, but you gave him less shit than you normally would. He seemed to notice this, too, taking it as an opening to talk to you since you weren't shutting him down every five seconds.

It started off as him simply asking to borrow a pencil in class. You both knew he didn't need one, but you entertained him anyways. His usual flirty comments became something you got used to, and after a few days you actually found yourself looking forward to his stupid jokes in math class and the witty banter you two shared.

Turns out whenever he wasn't around his family or his shitty friends, the Keg King could actually be a decent person to hang out with. Still, you made sure to keep your distance. You knew if you let your guard down for a second you'd end up making the same bad decisions it always came to with guys like him.

Nonetheless, the week flew by, and by the time Saturday night came around you were ready to knock out in your bed the second you stepped foot in your house.

“Dad, we're home!” Kyle called up the stairs.

“Hey kids,” your dad smiled, peeking his head out of the office before making his way down to the living room, “How was your day?”

“Pretty good,” Kyle said.

“I'm going to sleep,” you answered tiredly.

“Um, actually, (Y/n), we're going to Tina's to study for the Biology test, remember?” Kyle said.

'Shit,' you thought. You completely forgot about the party.

“A test after just the first week of school?” your dad questioned.

“Uh, yeah, accelerated courses and all that,” Kyle said unconvincingly.

You wanted to slam your head into the door frame.

Your dad rose a suspicious brow and nodded slowly.

“Well, you better wait at least an hour after you finish 'studying' before you drive back,” he called over his shoulder.

Kyle groaned, he knew he was busted.

“You know I don't mind you two having fun so long as you're safe,” your dad said, “Just remember-”

“No crank, no speed, no heroin,” you and Kyle spoke in tandem.

“That's right,” your dad said proudly, walking back up the stairs, “Have fun, kids! Be home by 2:00. I'll be up working tonight, so I will know if you're out late.”

“Alright, dad,” you grinned. Once he disappeared back into his office you turned to your brother.

“Nice acting, Macchio,” you rolled your eyes.

“Hey, it was worth a shot,” Kyle said.

“Are you seriously making me stay for that stupid party?” you sighed, already knowing the answer.

“I'm offended you'd think I'd let you off that easy,” your brother smirked.

You groaned, flopping down on the couch.

“You seriously need to go out tonight,” Kyle said, “you'll start growing mushrooms if you stay inside any longer.”

You shot him a half-glare and sighed. Guess there really was no chance of a relaxing evening for you tonight.

You were able to at least sneak in a half hour nap before you had to make your way upstairs to get ready. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you reached behind your record player to take out your Pyromania vinyl, Rock of Ages playing as you placed the needle down.

You brushed out your hair, teasing a few pieces on top to give yourself some volume and setting it with a few puffs of hairspray. You kept your t shirt on to be comfy but changed out of your jeans, opting for a black skirt instead. You used a ponytail to tie your shirt behind you, making it cinch in at the waist. At the last minute you decided to put on some burgundy lipstick; If you were going to be forced out of the house you were going to look damn good at the least.

As you bounded down the stairs you saw your brother already waiting by the door.

“Took you long enough,” Kyle said playfully.

“Watch it,” you said, “I can still drop your ass in the middle of the street and make you walk the rest of the way.”

He laughed, opening the door for you as you got your keys out of your bag.

“I can't go too crazy tonight,” you said as you got into the driver's seat, “I'm driving the kids to Starcourt tomorrow morning.”

“You might have to carry me to the car then, because my plans for tomorrow exclusively include sleeping, so I'm going to get wasted,” Kyle said.

You shook your head as you laughed, the engine of your car roaring to life. Kyle gave you the address to Tina's house and you drove off into the night.

You knew Kyle was looking forward to the party, probably more so to talk to this Tina girl, but you were still a little wary. It wasn't as if the place would be swarming with people who liked you. Tommy and Carol were bound to be there whether Tina invited them or not, and most of the people at Hawkins High who knew you in middle school didn't even remember your name. On the upside, it gave you a relatively clean slate to work with. You were pretty much known as the new girl with the cool car that hung out with Steve, and you were just fine with that.

You could hear the music from the party before Tina's house even came into view. When you finally pulled up to her driveway you could tell you were in for a night. Every floor of her house was filled with people, and you could hear yelling coming from her back yard. One couple had their tongues down each others throats under the tree in front of her house, the stragglers nearby too busy throwing up in the street to notice.

As you opened the door to the house you had to practically fight your way inside. There was hardly any space to walk, and it's not like the drunken people you were trying to get around were particularly aware of their surroundings.

When you and Kyle finally managed to get to the makeshift bar in the kitchen you took a moment to breathe, grateful to get your personal space back.

“Is this what you wanted?” you laughed.

“Absolutely,” Kyle grinned as he mixed you a Jack and coke, “This is our chance to go crazy and be the stupid teenagers we were always meant to be. You got way too straight-laced in New York. It's time to be a little less responsible.”

He handed you the drink he made and you accepted it, caving in.

“I'm supposed to be the responsible one,” you said, taking a sip, “You know, to make sure you don't end up in jail.”

He only shrugged, downing a shot of tequila. You looked around for a bit; it was relatively low energy for how many people there were.

“Hey, do you know where the music's coming from?” you asked Kyle.

“Boom box in the back,” he said, “Why, not a fan?”

“Just want a change in atmosphere,” you grinned, making your way through the hot, crowded room.

As you reached the deafening source of the party's music you shuffled through the box of cassette tapes next to it. You dug around for a while, reaching the very bottom before pulling out one with a label that made you smile.

You ejected the old tape, people yelling out as the music suddenly cut. You placed the one you found inside, pressing play and letting the intro riff of Motley Crue's Shout at the Devil ring out through the house.

The energy of the party was almost instantly cranked up to eleven, a group of drunk jocks starting to scream as they heard the song playing. You watched as they moved outside, competing to see who could hold the longest keg stand. Among them was Billy Hargrove, who you knew would be in attendance to defend his 'Keg King' title. His back was facing you as he braced himself against the keg, pushing himself into a hand stand while he drank from it. You rolled your eyes as the crowd around him went crazy, howling to the sky and pouring beers over their own heads.

As you shifted your attention elsewhere you saw your brother talking to Tina across the room and you smirked to yourself, walking over to grab another drink. You gave him a high five as you passed by and he gave you a thumbs up while Tina wasn't looking. You laughed as he did. Kyle was such a dork, but you still wished him the best. Tina really was a nice girl despite being surrounded by judgmental assholes.

You took a moment to scan the kitchen table which held every brand of cheap alcohol a high school student could think to steal from their parent's liquor cabinet. You reached over to grab a bottle of fireball, pouring some into your solo cup. As you took a sip you felt a familiar burn in your throat, leaving a hot cinnamon flavor behind in your mouth. You topped yourself off before setting your sights on an empty spot on the couch, pushing through the crowd to sit down and hopefully go relatively unbothered.

“Hey, you're the new girl, right?”

So much for that.

You bit back a sigh as you turned in your seat to see who just sat down next to you. You recognized him from your P.E. class; he was one of the guys on Billy's team.

“Can I help you?” you stated rather than asked, trying to be polite as possible while shutting this guy down.

“You certainly can,” he said suggestively, “But don't worry, I'll be sure to help you out in return.”

You grimaced, taking a healthy swig of your drink. This might turn out to be a long night.

“Listen,” you snapped, “I'm really not in the mood to pretend to be civil right now, so this would be a lot easier if you just slinked back into whatever hole you crawled out of.”

The smirk on his face fell at your words.

“Come on, don't be difficult,” he said, placing a hand on your thigh.

“Hey, watch it,” you glared, moving to swat his hand away. He grabbed your wrist as you did, his hand moving slowly up your thigh. As he leaned into your face you were blasted with the smell of vodka on his breath.

“Let's have some fun, doll~”

You didn't let it go any further than that.

You took one last sip of your drink before throwing the rest of it into his face. He howled in pain, recoiling immediately as the liquor seeped into his eyes.

“You bitch!” he growled, staggering back blindly and trying desperately to find the bathroom.

You scoffed as he stumbled away, looking down at your now empty cup.

“What a waste,” you sighed to yourself.

You heard someone chuckle behind you and you spun around, ready to fend off any other creep who tried to come up to you.

“You're ruthless, sweetheart,” Billy grinned, “33% alcohol to the eyes has to bite. I was planning on being your knight in shining armor, but I guess you had it covered.”

The tension in your shoulders left when you saw who it was, but only slightly. This was still Billy, there was no doubt he'd try something. You were about to make a sarcastic retort when the words got caught in your throat.

You hadn't been able to tell during his keg stand with his back facing you, but underneath that leather jacket of his, there was no shirt to be found. Even in the dim lighting you could see how defined his muscles were. His chest looked like it was sculpted out of stone, his tan skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat.

Billy smirked devilishly as he caught you staring, taking the seat next to you and slinging an arm around the back of the couch, not quite touching your shoulders.

“See something you like?” he cooed.

You didn't know what came over you, but in that instant a coy smile crept onto your painted lips as you gave him a once over.

“Definitely.”

That caught Billy off guard more than he wanted to admit or let show. This wasn't too far off from the back and forth game you two usually played, but your banter usually consisted of him flirting with you and you teasing him or finding new creative ways to tell him to fuck off. You've never said anything back that even implied reciprocation on your part, so for you to say something like that so outright was a bit of a shock. Never the less he recovered quickly, his usual smirk settling on his face.

“Finally confessing your love?” he joked.

“No,” you said, “This whiskey's just getting to me.”

A genuine laugh escaped him as you said that, the sound making your heart flutter. He was so close you could feel his hot breath fan across your skin. He dragged his tongue across his lips, an action your eyes followed. If you just leaned forward a few inches you'd be kissing him right now.

Your eyes widened as the thought went through your mind, immediately shoving it away.

'No. No no no, what the hell, (Y/n)?' you thought frantically, 'You promised yourself you wouldn't get involved with this guy.'

You cursed your heart for beating so fast, almost certain he could hear it pound against your chest. However, you were both snapped out of the moment when you heard someone call out your name.

“Hey, (Y/n)!”

Your head snapped up, meeting Steve's eyes. He smiled as you did and waved you over. You turned to Billy, feeling mixed emotions.

“Sorry, I should probably, uh. . .” you gestured over to Steve and his friends before getting your bag from the side of the couch.

“Yeah,” Billy said, biting his lip slightly, “Go ahead.”

You got up from the couch, stopping before you left.

“See you around, Billy,” you said, giving him a small smile.

His heart sped up at your words. It was the first time you'd called him that. Not a sarcastic nickname, not Hargrove, just Billy.

Billy watched as you walked over to Steve, laughing and giving him a hug. He felt a strange pressure in his chest and his gut twisted into an ugly knot as Steve slung a casual arm around your shoulders.

He scoffed, downing the rest of his drink and tossing the plastic cup to the side. This wasn't like him at all. He was Billy Hargrove- the Keg King and the school's most infamous playboy. He could get any girl he wanted, except for you, it seemed.

Why did seeing you with Steve piss him off so much? As soon as the word 'jealousy' crossed his mind he grit his teeth hard. No. There was no way he was jealous. You weren't his, and even if you were you wouldn't be for long. He had two rules: don't get attached and never fuck the same girl twice. He had a plan as soon as he set foot in this shit hole town: Tough out his last year of school, bang as many chicks as possible, and high tail it back to California as soon as he graduated. Committed relationships were never Billy's forte, and he didn't plan on changing that any time soon.

At least, that's what he told himself.

Billy got up from the couch, eyes scanning the party like a predator choosing his prey as he looked for some other girl to take his mind off you.

Steve's eyes narrowed as he watched Billy stalk off and pulled you in closer to him, whispering in your ear.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly.

“Huh? Yeah, I'm fine,” You said. Your cheeks heated up at your proximity, but you were more confused by his question than anything.

“Was Billy bothering you?” Steve asked, more serious than you'd ever seen him before. Your eyes went wide and you shook your head.

“No, we were just talking,” you said, “He wouldn't actually pull anything like the last deadbeat I was talking to. . . Why?”

Steve had a far away look in his eyes as he tried to come up with an answer. What was he supposed to say? 'Oh, well last year that guy smashed a plate over my head, threatened to kill your friend, and had to be taken out with a tranquilizer.'

“Just. . . be careful,” Steve decided on saying, “He isn't a great person.”

You heard the cheering crowd behind you get substantially louder, and you both turned around to see what all the commotion was about, which you regretted pretty fast.

Billy was in the middle of the room, making out with some busty brunette as she gave him a lap dance. He seemed to be enjoying himself a little too much, running his hands through her hair and down body. After a little while the girl whispered something in his ear that made him smirk, take her hand, and start leading her upstairs. It was clear they weren't going to be reading the bible up there.

“Yeah,” you said to Steve, tearing your eyes away from their retreating figures, “I've noticed.”

Steve pulled his focus from Billy to you. He'd never admit it, but part of him was glad Billy just pulled that little stunt in front of you. He could tell you were disappointed, but he couldn't understand what you saw in Billy.

After Nancy, Steve didn't know if he'd be able to trust people when it came to relationships. His heart was broken in a single, drunken confession. But you seemed so different from the other girls. Not really in an outward way, but you weren't afraid to be yourself. You had an energy and confidence that drew people to you, even if you didn't think so.

At first he just thought you'd be another girl who'd reject him right away at Scoops- another tally in the 'You Suck' column. But you'd stuck around and made an actual effort to be friends with him, and not just to get popular but because you actually wanted to get to know him. That in itself was pretty rare for Steve.

The fact that he could have known you all this time ate away at him, and he felt more than guilty that he hadn't bothered to talk to you when you were in middle school. Maybe it was the alcohol coursing through his system, but a tiny part of him wanted your friendship to grow into something more.

The only thing that could get in his way was Hawkins' resident asshole Billy Hargrove, and get in his way he certainly did.

Read chapter 4 here!

Taglist: @in-my-dreams-2000 @ggclarissa @iris1697 @5sosxgrethan @ohnoniella @sarcasticalphaofthelooserspack @aspiring-fangirls-world @wow-im-so-tired @hopesxxhigh @justanothercrazyassfangirl @too-many-lanes @whimsylavender @bish-ima-clown @amarachoren @mosiacbrokenheartstf @mcuvlxgs @xapham @metuel18 @immirandaq @nellaphine @multi-madison @gingertalksshit @jojo-buttercup @kyberhearts @mvdelaine @minnie-marvel @caitlin-rose28 @zandaleekrz @r3inventedd

#stranger things #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x reader #billy hargove x reader #steve harrington #Billy Hargrove #reader insert #love triangle #stranger things season 3 #mike wheeler #dustin henderson #Max Mayfield #Lucas Sinclair #will byers #jim hopper #original characters

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ladyreapermc · 5 years

Text

Fic: This isn’t a rom-com 15/17

Author’s notes: I’ve been vague about Lilah’s heritage so far with the exception her her being latina, but it made sense to me she would speak her native language with her mom and since I didn’t want to butcher another language by trying to writing in Spanish, she’s speaking Portuguese here. I put the translation next to it in brackets.

Summary: Keanu and Lilah meet at the set of John Wick. Rom-com shenanigans ensues

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

Wordcount: 2980

Warnings: just a F-bomb and an anxiety attack.

Lilah should not be missing Keanu this badly. It had only been gone a few of days since he left, but every time she caught sight of the finger-shaped bruises on her hips or the bite mark in her shoulder, Lilah felt like there was a gaping hole in her chest that made her just feel empty and everything else dull.

Lilah wanted to laugh at the irony. For someone who hated rom coms, she sure as hell was going through all the motions. She was this close to watching rainfall from her bedroom window with a sad song playing in the back. Which was sort of pathetic, so she really needed to find something to distract herself.

Good thing she still had the crushing doubt of what she would do to about NYFA and Oxford to keep her occupied. Arthur was being very understanding about her lack of response, but every time Lilah met Dr. Williams, it was the first question out of the older woman’s mouth.

“Do you know how many other candidates would kill for this opportunity?”

“Yes, I’m aware, Dr. Williams,” Lilah sighed, squeezing the bridge of her nose. This was giving her a headache. “But it’s a huge decision and I can’t just make it without thinking it through.”

She could see Dr. Williams wanted to argue some more and she braced herself for the conflict, but it never came. The other woman let out a sigh too and took off her glasses. For the first time in Lilah’s time in grad-school, the woman before her looked almost approachable.

“Lilah, I have been doing this for a while and I haven’t met many students like you. You’re brilliant and I don’t say that lightly. You work hard, you’re good at improvising, you hardly ever complain or say no, something I take advantage more times than I should, and you’re a great researcher. It would be a shame to let that go to waste.” She paused, wiping her glasses before putting them back on. “However, I also know that those same traits will make you succeed at any other career path you chose.”

“They called you, did they?” Lilah asked, twisting her hands together, heart in her throat. “From NYFA.”

“You did include my letter of recommendation in your application,” Dr. Williams said. “I told them exactly what just I told you, but you have to make a choice, dear.”

“I know,” Lilah sighed. “Tomorrow. I promise.”

“Good.” Dr. Williams said with a short nod. “I also expect the new chapter of your dissertation by the same deadline.”

All the way home, Lilah was a jumble of messy thoughts and conflicting feelings, because she had no idea what to do next. She just gave herself an ultimatum to make a decision when she told Dr. Williams she would give them an answer tomorrow. But the truth was that Lilah was no close to an answer now than she was four days ago when Lilah argued with Keanu.

Ever since this whole mess started Lilah became very aware of how ill-equipped she was to make her own choices. She had been doing a reevaluation of her life decisions and how she made them, and it was slowly becoming very clear the weight her parents’ wishes and expectations had on every step she took. Especially her dad.

She remembered being 13 and considering to join the theater club because it could help her make friends, but her dad insisted she joined the debate club instead because it would improve her English and would look much better on her college application. The same happened when she wanted to practice martial arts, but he thought the track team would be better. And that continued all the way to choosing her major for college and deciding on grad-school.

They were rarely obvious commands, it was more like nudges here and there that made Lilah doubt her own choices and start on a spiral of insecurity that was only abated once she did what he wanted, and he praised her for it. How mess up was that? How manipulative was that? Was he even aware that he did that?

How many times did she settle for something she wasn’t all that into it just to please him? Lilah didn’t even know. And how many times she hid part of herself or her interests, so he wouldn’t be disappointed? Like he was when she decided to go to New York for grad school. That had been quite an epic fight and it left Lilah crushed and crying for days until he relented and allowed her to go. And she knew he only did it because her mother talked to him.

That was crazy! Lilah was 21 at the time. She didn’t need his authorization. She was a damn adult, but apparently, she still acted like a child searching for his approval. Right now Lilah felt like she was in a turning point and one wrong step could mean she would wreck her future beyond recognition and that prospect terrified her.

With a heavy sigh, Lilah closed her laptop and moved to her bed. She wasn’t going to get any work done right now. Not until she finally made her decision and that needed to happen right now.

“Hey, can I talk to you for a sec?” Jean asked, leaning against the doorframe and startling Lilah.

“Sure. What’s up?” Ok, maybe it could wait a few more moments.

Jean stepped into the room and walked up to Lilah, handing her a check before taking a seat on the bed. Lilah glanced at it with a frown of confusion and gasped, looking back up at Jean.

“Wh…?” she trailed off, too shocked to even form words.

“That should cover tuition for the first year, right?” Jean asked, eyebrow arched.

“I can’t accept this, Jean,” Lilah said, trying to give the check back, but her friend just crossed her arms over her chest in refusal. “I know how much you hate the trust fund your parents made for you. I’m not gonna be the reason you go to them.”

“That ship sailed a long time ago, Lih,” Jean admitted with a sigh. “I’ve been using that money to keep Novelsy afloat for the last four months. And anyway, that’s not where it came that from. That’s from the sale.”

“Sale? You sold Novelsy?” Lilah exclaimed with wide eyes, jumping from her seat. “But Jean that was-”

“My dream?” the other woman completed with a little sad smile. “See I thought so too, but I began to realize the only dream part of it pissing off my parents and Novelsy deserve better than that. Who knows? Maybe these new people can do a better job than I did.”

“Don’t say that. You did a fantastic job!” Lilah said, coming to sit next to her and wrapping her arms around Jean’s shoulders, pulling the other woman into a hug. “You could’ve talked to me, you know?”

“You had your own thing happening with film school and Keanu.” Jean shrugged and Lilah pulled away to glare at her.

“No matter what’s going on in my life, I’ll always be there for yours, ok? Always. You’re my person, remember?” Lilah said, her tone leaving no room for argument and Jean smiled and nodded. “So now what? What are you gonna do?”

“Honestly? I have no idea,” Jean replied, her expression turning into a grin. “It’s kind of exciting not knowing.”

“You and I have very different concepts of exciting,” she commented with a chuckle, resting her head on Jean’s shoulder. “But you’re really ok? About the sale?”

“I mean, I’m sad and all, but yeah. It was for the best. They promised to keep all the same staff and structure and that’s the only reason I agreed.”

“That’s good, but I still can’t take this money, Jean.”

“Yes, you can. I did some math of all you the time have helped with Novelsy throughout the years without charging a cent. That’s about what I’d owe you.”

“That can’t be right,” Lilah snorted in disbelief and Jean flashed a sly smirk.

“Ok, maybe I added a healthy bonus too, but still…” Jean took Lilah’s hand in hers, entwining their fingers together. “You’re my person too and you deserve to have a chance to do this. Let me do this for you, please?”

Lilah felt her eyes stinging with unshed tears, her heart beating wildly in her heart as she hugged Jean. she was out of words to tell her friend how much this meant to her.

“I… you… thank you,” she choked, fully crying know and watching as Jean’s eyes welled up too. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Lih.” Her expression opened up into a wide grin. “You’re going to film school.”

“I’m going to film school,” Lilah agreed, her voice a little high-pitched, her own lips drawing into a smile. “I'M GOING TO FUCKING FILM SCHOOL!”

They squealed together, jumping and hugging and laughing and it felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders. Lilah had made her choice.

A moment later, Isaac came into the room, with a confused look on his face but since Lilah was still chanting that she was going to film school, he quickly caught on and joined the celebration. Lilah was breathless from laughing so hard, her cheeks hurting, and she might her twisted her ankle with all the jumping around, but she was so happy that she didn’t care. That was why she missed her mom’s first two calls. She only caught the third.

“Hi mom!” she greeted, signaling Isaac to turn down the music.

“Honey, you need to come home,” her mother said, her voice low and broken and Lilah felt all the cheerfulness draining from inside her. “Jamie was in an accident. He’s in the hospital…”

She couldn’t hear anything else due to the blood rushing through her ears; it felt like her ribcage was compressing her lungs and her heart trying to bust out of her chest. Her knees gave out and if it wasn’t Isaac’s quick reflexes, Lilah would be on the floor. Her phone wasn’t so lucky and she barely registered Jean talking to her mother, finding out what happened.

It had been so long since Lilah had an anxiety attack, so it took her a while to recognize it now. She sat on the floor, head between her knees as she tried to control her breathing and concentrate on something else, anything else. Her nails dug on Isaac’s arms as she tried to count her breaths and listen to what he was saying.

Lilah knew how anxiety attacks worked. She knew it was just her body freaking out because it thought there was danger around the corner. Lilah just needed to wait them out. It might feel like she was dying, but in the end, she would be ok.

It took Lilah about 15 minutes to regain control again and be able to refocus on her friends. Both Isaac and Jean were on the floor with her. She was practically on Isaac’s lap as he was holding her against his chest while Jean sat by her side. Lilah’s face was wet with tears and she had left five crescent-shaped wounds on Isaac’s arm.

“How are you, hon?” Jean asked.

“I need to go home.” It was all Lilah managed, struggling out of Isaac’s hold to get up. There was too much to do and no time to waste. “Can one of you check flights for me? I need to call Dr. Williams and my TA to cover my classes.”

“I’ll start packing your suitcase,” Isaac offered. “You should call Keanu. He’s coming back tonight, right?”

“Shit!” Lilah froze, turning to look at them. She completely forgot about Keanu. About everything else really. “I’ll call him from the cab.”

If someone asked Lilah how she managed to get everything ready and herself to Miami, she wouldn’t be able to tell you. It was all just a big blur to her. All she knew was that a little over five hours after she got her mother’s call, Lilah was stepping through the doors of Jackson Memorial Hospital where she knew Jamie would have been taken. It was the hospital he did his residency and where her father worked and taught.

Lilah knew this place like the back of her hand. Most of the nursing staff knew her so they didn’t even blink when she walked in and didn’t even paused by the reception area, just headed straight for the waiting room outside the surgical center, where she found her mom, Alba, sitting next to Jamie’s mom, Susan, comforting the other woman.

They looked up when Lilah walked in, her mother’s expression turning into one of relief as she let go of Susan long enough to meet her halfway from a hug.

“Que bom que você aqui. (I’m so glad you’re here),” she whispered, her voice wavered a little and Lilah just held her tight, breathing in the familiar scent of lilies from her mom’s skin.

��What happened?” Lilah asked as she let go of her mom to hug Susan, before taking a seat, holding her mom’s hand tight.

“They say he ran a red light,” her mom explained, and Susan let out a loud sob. “A pick-up truck hit his car, driver’s side.” Lilah felt the familiar tightness in her chest and forced out a long, shaky breath. This was not the time for another panic attack. Everyone here needed her. “Your father is with him.”

That much Lilah figured the second he didn’t see him. Technically no family member should be allowed anywhere near the OR, but her father was one of the top surgeons of this hospital and it was very hard to say no to him.

“Foi muito ruim? (How bad was it?)” she whispered to her mom, mindful of Susan. Alba took a deep breath, her hand tightening over Lilah’s.

“(Ruim) Bad.”

Once again, Lilah forced her lungs to keep working, her breath to remain steady as she tried to settle a little better on the uncomfortable couch of the waiting room. The hours dragged by without news. The only sounds in the room were hospital announcements and Susan’s sniffles.

Lilah got tired of the couch and started pacing, trying to work out some of the nervous energy running through her. Every once in a while she would check her phone, update Jean and Isaac. There had been no word from Keanu, but Lilah couldn’t bring herself to worry about that right now.

The OR doors were pushed open and her father stepped out, expression drawn into a deep frown of concern, the lines in his face deeper than Lilah remember from when she visited during the summer.

“They finished repairing his lung and had to remove his spleen. He should be out in another hour or so and head straight for observation,” he announced, his eyes landing on Lilah and his expression softening a little. “Hi, baby.”

“Hi dad,” she breathed out, against the crook of his neck as Frank wrapped her into a tight hug.

“My boy’s gonna be fine then?” Susan asked, her voice raspy from crying.

“He’s not out of the woods yet, but Jamie’s strong and Owen’s the best trauma surgeon I know,” he said with an encouraging smile, but Lilah noticed it didn’t quite reach his eyes. She had never seen her father scared before. “I’m going back in.”

With a final kiss to Lilah’s forehead, Frank turned around and headed back into the OR, leaving them behind. She could Susan on her phone, probably updating her husband while Alba’s fingers worked through her rosary and she prayed under her breath.

Lilah sighed and headed to the reception where she knew there was a coffee machine. She had been up for God knows how many hours and the adrenaline was starting to fade, exhaustion sipping so deep it almost seemed to reach her bones.

Lilah blamed her fatigue for not noticing him right away even though she must have walked right by him on her way to the coffee machine. He stood at the reception desk, carry on by his side talking to one of the nurses. It wasn’t until she heard her own name that Lilah turned to look, recognizing him.

“Keanu?” She called and he turned her way, his brow furrowed with worry.

“Lil,” he walked up to her, stopping just a step away, almost as if unsure if he could come closer, touch her.

“What you doing here?” Lilah asked her astonishment making it hard for her to process his presence.

“I heard about your brother, and I just…” Keanu sighed, rubbing his face. “I don’t know. I wanted to be here for you.”

Lilah felt the knot in her chest rising to her throat as her eyes stung. She closed the distance between them, letting Keanu wrap her into a hug, feeling him kiss the top of her head. She fisted the back of his blazer, fighting against the need to break down. It wasn’t time yet. No matter how safe she felt on his arms.

They stayed there, wrapped around each other until one of the orderlies asked them to move since they were blocking the way. They broke away, but Keanu took her hand, entwining their fingers together and Lilah led the way back to the waiting room. She paused just outside the door in hesitation, before she glanced over at Keanu.

“This wasn’t how I pictured you meeting my family,” she said with a humorless chuckle. Keanu gave her a soft, reassuring smile and squeezed her hand.

“I know, but it’s going to be fine.”

Lilah nodded and pushed the door open. She really hoped Keanu was right.

x(tbc)x

Go to part 16

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darkdevasofdestruction · 5 years

Text

The Blood Moon

Summary : With great powers comes great responsibility, so why bother with them, when you can just chill back and relax? That’s what Katrina always told herself in a way to calm down whenever she felt herself lose control, but nothing will stop her from getting in trouble with literally everyone around. Her world was chaotic, like the last seconds of a fly trapped in a spider’s web, but what happens when the world literally goes Upside Down for her, has to take care of a group of nerds much bigger than herself and even worst, she feels her heart beat for the first time, but now, not because of anxiety, but due to a much warmer feeling.

Pairing : Billy Hargrove x OC (Katrina Black)

TW : Stranger Things, as a TV show, explores a lot of themes, including childhood trauma of various types, which I am going to go along with.

—

This story contains and explores a variety of trauma and darker themes, most of them relating in canon to a certain character, others that I’m more familiar with then I wish I were and so on.

I have this story written on AO3 that I wrote in like 3-4 days because GODS I am in L O V E with Billy Hargrove and someone please save me, all my feelings are in here, from sorrow to glee, from fluff to angst and so on.

But I’ve never been prouder of a story I’ve written like I am with this one.

—

Chapter 1: The Fox and the Lion

I had no idea how the hell I managed to get wound up in a group of 12 year olds’ troubles, but I can’t deny that it wasn’t fun, if not, just crazy dangerous and deadly. I met up Mike and his little group of nerdy friends whilst going to the arcade one day and them cursing my nickname for not being able to defeat my high-score in any game. Of course, since all arcade games only had a 3 letter maximum for each name, I put mine.

“FOX”

Because I have red hair and can be pretty sly and sneaky, despite how very introverted I am. Now it’s my last year at Hawkins High School, this one being the most important because if everything goes right, I may get a scholarship and be able to continue my studies further, to University, pursuing Vet Medicine, like I’ve always dreamt of.

Now, to tell a little bit about myself…

Officially, I was called “3”, just like the number tattooed on my shoulder, which is to brand me as one of the many experiments the Russians/Americans did on children. Somehow, and very thankfully, I managed to run away, thanks to my weird powers that I’m still not 100% sure, and found myself in the woods, where I stumbled upon this policeman named Hopper who was nice enough to take me in for a while, before getting me to an orphanage and making sure a real family gets to take care of me.

The date of me meeting Jim was January 3rd, a very cold and snowy winter, so from that day on, that has become my birthday. Since I didn’t have a name, he let me stay a few good weeks with him and taught me how to read and write, which was pretty easy, to say the least, and upon reading so many books, I found a name that finally suited my tastes.

“Katrina”

That was 5 years ago, when I was 13, and now I’m at my own little house close to the Byers, I recently found out, living alone with Jim visiting me often, or having the kids have sleepovers at mine from time to time, when I’m not too busy with my studies.

After the incident with the monsters, Will’s disappearance, El and everything, we’ve really bonded, and gotta say, being a Rogue in their DnD party was super fun!

Life hasn’t been easy, that much is sure, isn’t it? Many bad things happened that cannot be changed or unmade, so you have to life with them through the rest of your life.

But things never stay the same, do they…?

Life at highschool ain’t the best, especially not with all these mean girls and boys around, but how I survived 3 years, I can survive one more, right? Also, recently, Will and the gang told us about a new girl coming from California called “Max” who apparently beat all their records as well and from their description, I really wanna meet her. Now, I’m wondering if this is a coincidence or not, but my Sherlockian instincts were tingling, and she may or may not be our new colleague’s little sister. Oh, yes, new colleague… His name is Billy Hargrove and he’s the most intimidating man I’ve ever seen in my life. He is literally radiating masculinity and his eyes make everyone either kneel at his feet or stay away from him, because he won’t take anyone’s shit. In a very short amount of time, he managed to gain the reputation of “Keg King”…I think that was? Beating Steve Harrington at popularity, now being the literal best student at sports (especially basketball), having the most number of uh…Charmed ladies, as a count, and beat up a ton of boys who dared disrespect him. So, uh...FUN!

I could have said that I’ve been pretty lucky so far, seeing that I didn’t have the need to directly interact with Billy so far, but fate was never as you’d expect and the weirdest of changes always happen when you least expect them.

Wednesday morning -

I wake up, eat a bowl of milk and cereal, go to wash my fave, brush my long red hair and look through my clothes.

I choose an over-sized AC/DC Tshirt, light blue boyfriend jeans, a red plaid shirt tied to my waist, round shades, a black hat and black combat boots, take my bag and go to my motorbike that I recently managed to buy and went to high school. Maths went pretty fast by, Chemistry too, but during Biology, we had to make a project for the final grade, which will affect the overall grade by a huge percent, which completely got my attention.

But that wasn’t all.

Mrs. Green insisted on assigning us partners…And I was to do the project with none other than Billy Hargrove, which made me gulp in anxiety and start to slightly scratch at my neck, not daring to look at him…Or anyone, for the matter.

Mrs. Green: Kat, Billy, may I talk to you at the end of the class for a moment? Billy: Sure. Me: Okay…

After this, the class went on as if nothing happened, but I could basically feel the burning and poisonous glares the many girls in my class would throw at me. After all, who wouldn’t want to be partnered up with THE King Billy?

Ha.

Me.

What a fool.

All I did the whole class was to draw on my notebook, habit which I found out managed to calm down my anxieties pretty well, even if I didn’t really pay attention to the teacher…But hey, for someone like me, it’s no big deal. After all the other students left the classroom, I grabbed slowly got up and went in front of Mrs. Green, not managing to look in her eyes, my gaze fixed on the floor as I bit my lip and fiddling with my fingers. Billy, as well, stood just next to me, but he looked extremely laid back.

Mrs.Green: Billy, I am sure you are aware that, despite your pretty good grades, slightly above average, in most subjects, you are somehow failing Biology. So, I wanted to ask you, is it just disinterest, or are you not understanding something? I thought that, compared to Mathematics, Chemistry and Physics, this would be at least a bit easier. Billy: Well, uh…I dunno, I guess I don’t really get it or something. I guess I started with the wrong foot and continued even worse and…Yeah, you get it. Mrs.Green: Kat, dear, I am very sorry to ask this of you, since I know you’re extremely shy, but would it be okay with you if you were to help Billy with Biology? You told me you want to pursue Medicine at University, and so far you’ve been exceeding all expectations at my subject, which is why I paired you two up. Just a bit of tutoring, once in a while, if you both agree. Billy: If it helps with my grades, I don’t see why not. Mrs.Green: Excellent! What do you say, dear? Me: Uh, w-well, I…Uhm…I-I mean, s-sure, but…But a-are you sure I’m the right person for this? I-I mean, as you said, I’m painfully shy…A-And I’m afraid I might be more annoying than useful and I don’t want to waste anyone’s time and- Mrs.Green: Dear, Kat, calm down. I’ve seen you help and explain to some of your colleagues before at different subjects and you did an extraordinary job at it! I think you shouldn’t be afraid. Who knows, maybe Billy will be able to help you out with your shyness, since he’s so popular and sociable. Me: *hiding my face* I-I-I w-well, I don’t know what to say… Billy: You can start by saying ‘Yes’ ? Me: Uhm…I guess you’re right. S-Sure, I will tutor you, I am fine with that. J-Just tell me when you don’t understand or if I’m being annoying, I’ll try to stop. Billy: *chuckles* Don’t worry, toots, I’m sure we’ll get along just fine. Mrs.Green: *winks* Think of it as opportunity. It will look very good on your recommendation letter. Me: Y-You mean, you will…? Mrs.Green: *smiles* But of course, dear! How could I possibly not recommend my top student to the best University? It was supposed to be a surprise from me and your Physics and Chemistry teachers, but oops! Busted~. Me: I-I-I can’t thank you enough!! Really, thank you so much for everything you’ve done for me! I am forever grateful for you and your patience and kindness with me! Mrs.Green: *pats my head* Dear, your only fault is worrying too much and enjoying life too little. Take the advice of the bands you listen to so much and you might learn to live a bit. Now, off you go, your next class is about to start! Me: See you tomorrow, Mrs.Green! And thank you so much for everything again! Billy: Good bye, Mrs. G.

Outside of the classroom, I gripped my notebook close to my chest and walk to my locker, but Billy was still following me with a smirk on his face, and then leaned on the locker nearby.

Billy: So, I just got a very hot teacher as a reward for failing the class, the more you know. Me: I…I think it’s more of a punishment. Billy: Why’d you think that, Kitten? Me: Wh-Why did you j-just call me “Kitten” ? Billy: Mrs.G called you “Kat”, so, why not? Me: My name is Katrina, not Kitten, so please call me that. Billy: Fine, fine…Kitten. *winks* Me: *pouts* Guess I can’t convince you… Billy: You give up pretty easily, babe. It’s almost like you like that. Me: *cringes* I-It’s nothing of the sort. I-It’s just…Over the years…I learn that if saying “No” doesn’t work the first time…It won’t work no matter how many times you repeat or struggle…So might as well just get it over with. Billy: *raises an eyebrow* That sounded oddly specific. Me: *eyes widen* Ah, n-no, forget I just said that! S-Sorry, I, uh…I gotta go to Physics, excuse me. Billy: What a coincidence, I have Physics too. Why don’t we talk about the project and my tutoring on the way there? Me: Uhm…If you’re okay with it, I guess okay. Billy: Have any specific topic you wanna do? I kinda have no idea what we’ve studied so far. Care to enlighten me? Me: Well…We started with the Nervous system, followed by the Sensory organs, then Glands, the Locomotor system, Digestive system, Excretory system, Metabolism, some pretty basic Genetics, some plain Environmental things…And…Uhm…Well… Billy: *smirks* You missed out the Reproduction thingy between Excretory and Metabolism on purpose, didn’t you? Me: *gasps* Liar! You said you didn’t know! You tricked me! Billy: *chuckles* I might have. Say, toots, it’s almost like you missed it on purpose. Are you embarrassed? Hey, what about we do the project on tha- Me: NO!!!! Billy: *wide eyed* Whoa, slow down, there, I was only teasin’. Me: *slaps hand on mouth* I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to shout at you! Please, don’t be mad. It’s just…I really don’t like it and it makes me feel very…Very bad. Billy: *shrugs* S'okay, I got it, don’t worry, I’m not mad. Jeez, Mrs.G was right, you really do worry too much. Me: Yeah…I’m really sorry, I told you it’d be more of a punishment than anything. I know I can be very annoying without even realising. Billy: Chill, babe, chill. So, when and where shall we meet? Me: Uhm…Tomorrow after class for the project? Billy: I have Basketball training, sorry. Me: Oh, right, you’re in the team. When’s your next match? Billy: In 2 weeks. Wanna come and cheer me? Me: *smiles* If you want me there, sure, I will be there. Billy: Huh, would ya look at that, Kitten has a pretty smile. Ya wanna make me swoon? Me: Ah, n-no, really, I’m not. Billy: You’re melting my heart, babe! Me: S-Sorry! Uhm…How about this Friday? About 5pm? At…Uhm…There’s this pretty cafe in town called “Ma Cherie” and they have amazing tea and sweets. Billy: Friday…Friday…Ah, yeah, sure. Had a date, but- Me: Oh, shoot! Okay, we can find another day so you won’t have to miss it! Billy: *chuckles* Nahh, don’t worry, I’ll just cancel. I’d much rather stay with you than with her. Me: *bites lip* Uhmm…I…Flattered? I think? Billy: Good then, it’s a date, see you then, sweet cheeks! Me: WAIT WHAT?!

I stopped in my tracks but he only laughed and waved at me, jogging ahead in another direction. It was only then that I realised that I was in front of the Physics classroom and he, in fact, had a complete other subject, not Physics.

Smooth bastard…

And so, Wednesday came to an end, Thursday as well, Friday went by unnoticed and then, I had to go full speed to the Animal shelter nearby to help out. They never told me how much to stay, seeing that my schedule was hectic due to College and Uni preps, so I would just come and go whenever I could. Problem is, I lost track of time and when I looked back at the watch again, it said 4:46pm.

F U C K.

I bid the workers farewell and ran to my motorbike, going as far as I could back to Hawkings and at the cafe, getting all the two bags full of books and running into the cafe, and looking at my watch at the same time.

5:13pm.

Kill me please.

Entering the cafe, I nod at the waitress, as I’m a regular here and we’re on friendly terms, and scan for Billy, who was writing something in a notebook. I rush to take the seat opposite, but before I sat down and let the books fall to the ground, I start apologising to Billy a bit too much.

Me: I’M SO SORRY!! I-I really didn’t mean to be late, but it’s entirely my fault and I feel horrible for making you wait for me! Please don’t be mad, I-I’ll make up to you! I’ll pay each time we go out to study, okay? S-So take anything you want a-and I’ll pay! I know it won’t really make a difference bu- Billy: Babe, sit down and breathe. Me: H-Huh? Billy: I’m not mad. I can clearly see you rushed to get here. Lost track or time, huh? What were you doing? Me: Yeah, I know, I’m stupid. I got a watch today so I can make sure I leave at the right time, but I forgot to check it and…I am late. So, uhm…Y'know how I mentioned I want to pursue Vet Medicine at Uni? I work at an animal shelter nearby and it takes sort of…Almost an hour to get here. Well, more like 40 minutes, but I rushed and got here in like 25. It kinda helps to get in at a top Uni…With a scholarship. I couldn’t afford to study at University otherwise, so I gotta do what it takes. Billy: Well, babe, you look pretty hot in you lab coat. I wanna see you like this more often. Me: M-My lab coat…? AH, DAMN, I FORGOT TO TAKE IT OFF! Godamn it! Billy: *chuckles* You’re pretty amusing, doll. Come on, sit down and let’s order. Me: Okay. Leila, dear, could you please come and take our order? Leila: Hey, Kat, rushed again from the shelter I see. Regular? Me: For me, yes. Billy, what would you want? Billy: Just a black coffee, thanks. Me: Are you sure? Billy: Yeah, sure. Me: O-Okay… Leila: Okay, then. A Cherry Vanilla tea with extra cinnamon, a chocolate cake and a black coffee coming right up! Me: Thank you for your time, Lei-Lei! Leila: Any time! Billy: Seems you calmed down a bit. Me: Yeah…This place always manages to sooth down my anxieties. Uhm…I literally only come here every time I want to study. Billy: I’m not surprised. It’s pretty nice, I guess. Me: *smiles* I’m happy that you liked it. Billy: Say, forgot to ask you on Wednesday, but today I see you have a Metallica Tshirt. Are they your boyfriend’s? Me: *blushes* B-Boyfriend? But I don’t have a boyfriend, what do you mean? Billy: You don’t? How come? Me: Why are you surprised, who’d want someone like me? Trust me when I say this, I know what I’m talking about. Billy: But you’re smart and pretty, what’s not to like? Me: Many things. So uhm…These are my Tshirts. 90% of my tops have band imprints. And…Well…AC/DC, Iron Maiden and Metallica are my Top 3 favourite bands. I have all their vinyls and cassettes. Billy: You just keep getting hotter and hotter the more I know you. Me: Hahaha, no, no way that could ever happen. Billy: If I were to give you one of my band Tshirts, would you wear it on our next date? Me: D-Date?! C-Come on, Billy, I’m literally the last person you’d want to date, I can assure you. Billy: What if I prove you otherwise? Me: How do you know you’re my type? Billy: *smirks* Oh~? So I’m out of your league, sweet cheeks? Me: Ah-…! Wait, no, I didn’t mean it like that! I didn’t want to insult or offend you, I’m sorry! Billy: Just teasin’, relax. Me: *pouts* Whatevs… Billy: So, wadya say, dollface? About us? Me: D-Don’t you think we should, like, get to know each other first? Become friends and trust each other and all that? Billy: Awww, toots wants one of those cutesy romance novel relationships, how adorable. Me: *blushes* W-Well…Y-Yeah…I guess…I know I’m asking for too much…And there’s no way in hell that could ever happen to me…S-So…I just…I guess…I kinda gave up on even thinking of dating long ago. Billy: *sighs* Maybe your expectations are too high of people that are too low. People suck, y'know? The world sucks. You’re expecting a happily ever after? Me: If I ever get to be in a relationship, I want it to be that kind of shelter that would be protective from all the chaos and evilness in the world. The only place where you can feel safe and be yourself. And if that Happily Ever After, as you call it, won’t happen with another person as my significant other…Then I’ll be very content with saving animals’ lives and travelling the world at my leisure. Billy: *smirks* Have I ever told you you’re pretty hot when you speak like that? Me: Uhm…Okay, so, I was thinking that maybe we could talk about the Nervous system in our project? Leila: Kat, you don’t need to talk about the Nervous system. You literally ARE a Nervous system. Me: … *laughs* Oh jesus, that was a good one. I won’t forget that…Actually, I might even use it as a joke when I do the presentation! Leila: *winks* Don’t forget the author’s right! Me: Okay, okay! As per my lovely barista friend joked, instead of presenting you the Nervous system, I will introduce myself, for I am, in fact, a Nervous system. Leila: Hey, Billy, was it? Please film her or something, I want to see that part. Billy: Consider it done. Me: I call this a conspiracy! Don’t try to overthrow my reign! Leila: Oh, shut up, nerd. Here’s your tea, honey and cake, and here’s your coffee. Good luck with your project! Me: Thanks, dear! Billy: Okay, that looks and smells pretty good. Me: *smiles* Wanna try? I can give you half of everything, if you want? Billy: Y'sure? Me: *nods* Sure! Do you like your tea sweetened? I usually put a lot of honey in it. Billy: Make it as you like and I’ll drink after. Me: Here, you can eat from my plate as much as you want. I usually drink the tea first anyways. Billy: So generous, toots, you’re melting my heart. Me: Ahem. So, the Nervous system? Billy: I have no idea what that’s all about, but just for the sake of the joke, I will say yes. Me: Cool! I kinda thought of specialising in Neurosurgery after Uni. B-But that’s really very far in the future, so it’s pretty irrelevant. Billy: Teach me your magic, babe, and let’s fuck them up big time.

Pretty excited, I got the books from the bag and handed them to him, showing him the tons of notes, scribblings, ideas, details and so on that I’ve gathered so far, and for the next 4 hours, everything we smoothly, but we had to leave because Leila had to close, and we decided to meet again on Monday at lunch time in the courtyard and study while we eat.

I have to admit, the time spent with Billy was…Well…Really nice. It seemed almost like he was a complete other person, not the scary guy who looked like he would snap at anyone if they even as much as blinked around him. Sure, he was a huge flirt, but it didn’t seem too…Ill-willed, to say the least. I just hope it won’t turn into a crush or something. I absolutely canNOT and will NOT allow myself to catch feelings…Not again…Not after everything that has happened. He is right. There is no Happily Ever After, so why bother?

The weekend passed by very fast as I prepared notes for both the project and some tutoring ideas for the Nervous System, since we had to start with the very beginning of Biology, so after the first 3 classes in the morning, I tried to rush outside, but I got pushed into a locker with a boy that I couldn’t recall the name of, but I knew was pretty popular…Like many others. I think his name was Dennis or something, and he wasn’t alone, but surrounded by 3 cheerleaders, Clarisse, Carol and Christine, or the Triple C as they were called.

Boy: Hey, freak, 'sup? Me: Uhm…Hi. Boy: Didn’t you hear me? SPEAK UP! Me: I-I Said hi! Boy: I SAID SPEAK UP!! Me: HI! Boy: Thaaat’s more like it, you ugly sow. Now, what the hell were you doing around King Billy? What you’re tryina get him to like you with that pity party of yours? Your face implores pity and sympathy, but you’re nothing more than a nerd! Me: W-We have to make a p-project together… Carol: Yeah, right, as if! You have the goo-goo eyes for him! Y'know, just 'cause he likes the bands you claim to like, doesn’t mean he likes YOU! I bet you only like that music 'cause HE likes it! Me: N-No…That’s not true…

By now, my eyes were watering, and Dennis pinned my wrists above my head and started screaming very close to my face. I could feel a panic attack beginning to form at an alarmingly fast rate.

Clarisse: Aww, look at her! What, gonna freak out again and cry? Christine: Pshh, yeah, right. What a stupid crybaby. Never got past the stage of a 10 year old? Dennis: You and your stupid red hair, better stop hanging out with Billy, or else you’re gonna get it. Me: B-But I h-have t-to- Carol: *slaps me* Billy. Is. Mine. Slut!

After she slapped me, everyone around started laughing and belittling me again, but I couldn’t get out of there because Dennis was exponentially stronger than me, so I knew there was no use in even bothering. A booming voice, however, echoed in the hallway, making me flinch at the noise. “SILENCE! What the hell is going on here?!” the deep voice rang out, a funeral silence taking over, only my soft whimpers being heard.

Dennis: STOP CRYING, YOU BITCH! Didn’t you hear our King asked for silence?! Me: S-Sorry… Dennis: And open your eyes when he’s here, stop being so disrespectful for someone clearly superior to you! Come on, now, on your knees, like the little bitch that you are!

Dennis laughed as he put his hand on my throat, squeezing a bit before throwing me to the ground, in front of Billy. I could only tremble on the ground, not daring to move. I learnt it the hard way that getting away always made it worse.

Billy is the most popular guy in the High school, making all the ex-popular guys hang out with him to gain popularity. He has always been the talk of the school, the womanizer, the rebel, the cool guy everyone loved and feared. Despite everything, I expected him to side with his friends…Even if a little part of me wished for him not to.

The silence in the halls was far more excruciatingly painful than the mockings and the laughter, but it soon vanished as a voice darker and lower than before started talking. He was clearly pissed off.

Billy: …What the fuck were you doing here…? Dennis: We were teaching this bitch a lesson, of course! Make her remember her rightful place! Clarisse: No, no, if you were doing that, you’d have thrown her in the trash bin, 'cause that’s what she is! Carol: Hey, Christine, look at her! She’s staying there like she wants to suck King Billy’s dick! What a shameless slut, on her knees in front of everyone! Billy: Did I, even once, ask ANY of you to do anything like this…? Dennis: Well, no, but she’s been rubbing her pathetic germs all over you! Following you like some lost puppy just 'cause you’re popular, and even more! Lying to us! Carol: Ha, yeah! She kept saying she’s dating you and that you already fucked! Pshh, whore! Me: I…Never… Carol: Oh, shut up, nobody cares what you’re saying, get a hint! Billy: Are you 4 fucking out of your GOD DAMN MINDS?! Dennis: Uhm…B-Billy, what’s the matter? Billy: WHO THE FUCK TOLD YOU TO DO THAT TO HER?! SHE’S MY PROJECT PARTNER AND MY TUTOR, OF COURSE SHE’S HANGING AROUND WITH ME! You fucking idiots, I’m gonna FUCKING KILL ALL OF YOU! All of you stay around me like whores on the sidewalk wanting to get some cheap money, but you’re all good for nothing! Dennis: Come on, Billy, you’re new here, but she’s a freak, okay? I mean, look at her! There are only bad rumours about her and you should hear what her EXes say about her!

Before Dennis could say another word, he was slammed on the locker behind him and choked. I cringed at the sudden noise, but when I saw the outright rage on Billy’s face as he choked Dennis, he drew back one of his arms, wanting to punch him, but I threw myself on his arm.

Me: Billy…Please don’t… Billy: Get back, dollface. This fuckass needs to be taught some discipline the hard way! Me: Billy…Please, I beg of you. Please let him go. Please. Billy: But look at you, they made you cry! I can’t let them get away with this! Me: Billy…Please, for me, please don’t do it. Please stop. Please. Let’s go work on the project. Please. I beg you with all my heart. Billy: *glaring* What the hell is wrong with everyone in this fucking town?! You’re all a bunch of submissive fucktards with no brains at all!

Billy sneered, throwing Dennis away from him and walking down the corridor. I took 3 deep breaths to calm myself, before I ran to him and hugged him tightly from behind, making him freeze in his tracks, extremely tense.

Me: I-I’m very sorry, Billy. I know I only bring you troubles. Even now, I can feel that you hate me touching you like this, but it was the only way I could think of thanking you. And…And…I really appreciate you saving me…And not fighting in my presence. Billy: I really don’t get you. You just stood there, letting them do whatever the hell they wanted with you! There was no struggle, no fight in you! Nothing!

By this point, I let my arms fall down my sides and he turned around to face me, yet my gaze was still on the floor.

Me: You really think I could have gotten out of there? That I could have managed to throw Dennis off of me? Look at me, Billy. My arms are literal noodles, I can’t even punch. Hell, sometimes I struggle to open the water bottle cap. And if I tried to scream…Who do you think would have helped me? Harrington? Wheeler? The lovely Carol and Tina? Or Tommy? The only person who was okay with me in this high school has been Jonathan Byers, but people hate him too, so I can’t possibly make him get bullied more because of me. What would you have me do? It’s been 3 years already…What’s one more? Billy: …You’re so godamn irritating. Me: I know…I’m sorry. I’m really sorry for causing you so much trouble. I…I will go tell Mrs. Green to assign you a new project partner and I will continue tutoring you, if you wish, where people won’t have to see us in the same room. Billy: Did I ask you to do that? Me: N-No, but- Billy: But nothing. Shut up and let’s go, you’re supposed to be tutoring me today. Me: I-I know, but we said outside, and if people see you with me- Billy: Then let’s skip. I don’t have Basketball practice today, so I don’t really care. Me: I-I…I never skipped before… Billy: *shrugs* There’s always a first time for everything. C'mon, if you get in trouble, you just say I kidnapped you or somethin’, chill out. Me: A-Are you sure about this…? Billy: Yeah, yeah. Hop along, I’ll drive. Me: Where are we going? Billy: My place. My parents won’t be coming home tonight so nobody to disturb us. Me: Uhm…Well… Billy: I won’t do anything to you, fuck’s sake. Me: W-Well…If you’re sure it’s no problem… Billy: Get in the car, then. Me: B-But my motorbike- Billy: You have a motorbike? Me: Y-Yeah…Couldn’t really afford a car. And it’s pretty neat. Billy: Fuck, babe, you’re so hot. Me: Ah, I-I’m really not. Billy: I’ll get ya to your house and pick you up tomorrow then. C'mon, sweet cheeks, lemme show you my love. Me: Okay, okay.

He winked at me before signaling me with his head to follow him to his car, where he patted the hood very proudly and smirked, leaning on the door. He got inside, starting the ignition, which was a cue for me to get inside too, putting on my seat belt and gripping it tightly.

Billy: How d'ya like it? Me: It’s very pretty. What car is it? Billy: '79 Camaro, Chevrolet. Complete chick magnet, ya get me? Me: It is very nice. Billy: Fancy some music! Me: Oh, yes!

Smirking at me, he put “You shook me all night long” by Scorpions at max volume, making me grin at him in glee and start singing the lyrics of the song, and he followed my lead, making both of us scream like idiots above the music. Then, the perfect Mixtape with AC/DC songs started, featuring “Highway to hell”, “Hells bells”, “You shook me all night long”, “Dirty deeds done dirt cheap” and my favourite, “T.N.T.”, but by the end of it, we already got to his house, which made me pout a bit before laughing and getting out of the car.

Me: Thanks for this, Billy! It was super fun! Nobody I know listens to the same kind of music I do, and being able to sing with someone else was sooo cool! Billy: Next time, try screaming my name, 'cause damn that was sexy as hell. Me: *laughs* Don’t be silly. Billy: *winks* I’m not.

He guided me to his room which was filled with band posters over which I started gushing about as he brought some snacks and soda for us to munch on as we study. I took off my boots before I jumped on the bed criss-crossed as I spread my noted for today’s tutoring, repeating some things myself, so I won’t stutter explaining too much, but before I realised it, he already threw the bags of crisps on the bed over my notes, making me yelp in shock.

Billy: You get scared pretty easily. Me: Y-Yeah, I mean, that was pretty unexpected. Uhm…Let’s clean up a bit, you made a mess of my notes. Oh, bring your notebook, you’ll need it. O-Oh, right, I brought coloured crayons, I wasn’t sure you had…And your sister might have needed them. Billy: How did ya know I had a sister? Me: Well, I kinda guessed. Both you and her transferred from Cali on the same day, at the same time. Billy: Why do you know about little brats? Me: *shrugs* I have a few little friends. They don’t mind that I’m a nerd…'Cause they are too. It’s pretty fun, actually! Billy: *raises eyebrow* Right. So, why’d I need crayons? Me: Drawings, of course! To understand Biology better, one must need tons of schemes and drawings. I already have mine and I will give them to you for as long as you need, but I’d appreciate it if you were to draw them by yourself too, since it will really help you understand and memorise better what you’re about the learn. Billy: Right…Okay, fine. Me: So, if it’s okay with you, should we start talking about Cells? Shapes, roles, the organelles inside it and what they do. Then, we should cover the tissues a bit, before starting to talk particularities, mainly, to explain the Neuron, how reflexes work and why, and then cover the nerves and organs. Billy: *blank look* Good luck. Me: Huh? What do you mean? Billy: It’s gonna be tough getting me to understand this shit. Me: I don’t think so. I have faith in you. Mrs.Green said that all your grades are above average, which is really good! If you manage to get a B at Biology as your final mark, then you have a very strong chance at a scholarship! Billy: How d'ya know that? Me: You are the best at sports, Billy. The teacher always praises you, despite all the…Uhmmm…L-Let’s call it problematic behaviour. I’m sorry. And, uhm…Our highschool has 1 Sports Scholarship, and 1 Studies Scholarship. Billy: And clearly, you’re the one to get the Studies one, right? Me: *blushes* Well…Y-Yes, it seems so. Billy: And how are you so sure I’m the one qualified for the Sports one? Me: Well…I…I spend a lot of time around teachers. It’s kind of a safe haven where nobody can bully me, and I get to find out a few things as well. Billy: Holy shit, you’re such a Vixen~! You, little, naughty vixen! Me: *chuckles* I…I’ve been called Fox before. Billy: And rightfully so. Me: Y-Yeah, carrot hair, I know. Billy: Oh, shush, it’s hot. And damn, looks damn good with your green eyes. Me: *clears throat* N-Nobody said that before. Uhm, s-so! As I was saying, because you’re currently the top choice…That’s actually why Mrs.Green wanted you to pair up with me. She saw potential in you and she didn’t want it wasted. Before you, there was Steve Harrington, but since you came… Billy: Oh, babe, trust me, I’m gonna come very soon if you keep praising me like that. Me: *confused* What do you mean? Billy: You…Didn’t get that? Me: *shakes head* Should I have? Billy: Never mind. So, what am I supposed to do? Me: Basically, get that B in Biology, win at least 3 of your upcoming Basketball matches until the end of the year…And I think it’s settled. Billy: I’d kiss you right now. Me: *scratches the back of my neck* You wouldn’t like it. So, uhm…Is this enough of a motivator for you? Billy: It could be…Okay, babe, work the hell outta me. Me: S-So, I was thinking, if it’s okay with you, that I should give you a test after each chapter we finish. Like a revision. I think it would be nice and it would help you not forget some things, and also, see where you didn’t understand well enough and all that stuff. Billy: What’s the passing grade, teacher? Me: *flustered* D-Don’t call me that, please, I would be a terrible teacher. I think…A 75% should suffice Billy: That’s quite a lot, babe. Me: *smiles* You can do it, Billy. Your future self is going to thank you for your struggles and hard work. Billy: How about a motivator? Me: Isn’t the Scholarship enough? Billy: It is…But Y'know, it’s gon’ be hard. Me: I suppose you’re right…Okay, what do you have in mind? Billy: *smirks* Each time I get a passing grade at your tests…Let me kiss you. Me: *eyes wide* Wh-What?! Billy: Aww, come on, babe, it’s just a kiss and it’s gon’ help motivate me to study hard. Don’t cha wanna help me get that scholarship? Me: *blushes furiously* I-I-I…Wh-Why w-would you want that?! Billy: Because you’re adorable as hell and I like you. Me: L-Like you like all girls? Billy: Who said I liked them? They’re all dumb and want the same thing. Can you guess? Me: *shrugs* Dunno. Billy: Come on, babe, think, you’re smart. Me: I guess? Billy: You’re the smartest babe I’ve ever got the pleasure to meet. All fucktards at school want just one thing, 'cause they’re all shallow brain dead suckers. They aaaaaall just wanna fuck. Me: A-And don’t you do the same? Billy: I do. Me: Th-Then why’d you want me to kiss you? To add me to your list or something? Billy: Nahh, I’d be a real shithead if I were to take advantage of you like that. Me: *mutters* Wouldn’t be the first one… Billy: *raises eyebrow* Do you trust me? Me: Don’t take it personal, I don’t really trust anyone. Billy: Huh. Not bad. Let’s make a deal, toots. I’ll do my best to raise up to your expectations and you’ll give me those little rewards. If by the time we finish everything you won’t be satisfied with how I behave, then you can hate me all your life and I won’t bother you again. Me: B-But I don’t wanna hate you. Billy: *gets closer to my face* Even better. So, wadya say, sweetling? Me: Uhmm…Well…I-I don’t know… Billy: Come on, Kitten, what’s the harm? It’s just a kiss. Me: *blushes* Uhm…Uhmmm…F-Fine…If it will help you… Billy: Thanks, babe! Now, how about I see what to expect~? Me: NO!

With each question, he just kept getting closer and closer to my face, while I leaned backwards, until the last where I got so flustered that I didn’t realise I was completely on the edge of the bed… Until I fell off with a high-pitched squeal and a thud, while he just laughed his ass off looking at me, as I pouted and looked at him done with life.

Me: You could’ve caught me, y'know? Billy: Sorry, toots, I was too shocked to realise. But, shoulda seen your face, t'was hilarious! Priceless! Me: Yes, yes, I’m hilarious, ha-ha! Just wait till you see how hilarious the tests are gonna be! And I’ll laugh in your face like you do right now! Billy: Ohhh, mrrrr, babe, you’re on fire! Fine, you’re on, then! But I’ll show ya it’s gon’ be worth it. Me: You better.

Stretching a bit I get back in bed next to him and putting on my best game-face, I grab the first pages of notes, the drawings and schemes and start explaining him in detail every little thing, telling him to repeat what I said from time to time, to make sure he stays focused, and make him explain what he understood so far, in his own words.

Despite everything, he was actually really great company to have and I’m kinda…Actually, really glad that Mrs.Green made me be his partner for this project, and more, tutor him. If only he could tone down his excessive flirting, he’s surprisingly soft and nice. Or well…That’s what I think. I could also be wrong, like I’ve been so many times before, and I wouldn’t be shocked in the least bit.

But…I really hope I’m not wrong.

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

@klassickb

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lhs3020b · 5 years

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Boris And the Baddest of Bad Weeks

I promised an expanded entry on what’s going on at the moment in our national meltdown, so here it is...

Allow me, if I may, to walk back an earlier comment of mine. Some time ago, I was distinctly skeptical about the idea of an early general election. However, the situation has evolved. You see, there was one thing I didn't count on. I never imagined that Boris Johnson would be stupid enough to force nearly two dozen of his MPs out of his party.

That's right: I over-estimated his intelligence. Umm, whoops.

In my defence, what he did may well have been the single most utterly-stupidly self-defeating maneuver ever in British politics. The only sense I can make from it is that he's having a narcisistic breakdown. Actually, viewed in that very narrow light, perhaps it does make a little sense. If you've ever had the misfortune to have a narcissist in your life, you'll be aware that the thing they just can't cope with is any sort of rejection. The "no"-word tends to summon a meltdown - and of course BoJo faced a pretty major series of "nopes" from Parliament this week.

The other thing I didn't count on was that apparently yes, there actually are some things that some Tory MPs just won't do, even if the consequences of Not Doing The Thing runs to damaging their personal careers. This did come as a surprise to me - I'd assumed that blind partisanship and the desire for salaries would ultimately trump - or perhaps, Trump - all other concerns. But no, credit where it's due, it turns out that for at least 21 of them, there was a floor on the greed after all. Admittedly it's taken us three years of accelerating chaos to find it, but it was there.

The next factor that I didn't count on was that the opposition parties got their act together. Bluntly, there was no hint of this over the summer. The speed with which it happened has left me a little dazed. The earlier failure to call a Vote of No Confidence, the weird shenanigens over ludicrous Governments-of-National-Unity, the generalised infighting and chronic myopia ... just two weeks ago, it was not looking good. I was basically starting to quietly accept that we on the pro-Remain side were finally defeated, and worst of all, we'd been defeated mainly by our own allies.

Then the prorogue happened.

It's fair to say that it's already backfired. The obvious cynicism of the strategy, the naked contempt for all the institutions of British government, the sheer gall of it all - it was meant to energise the pro-Brexit crowd. Instead, it appears to have driven everyone on the soft-Brexit/pro-Remain aisle into a state of thermonuclear rage. And if there's one thing that can bring unlikely allies together, it's a common enemy. By pursuing his grandiose "oh look at me being so Brexity!" cock-strutting routine, Boris accidentally made himself into exactly that enemy.

The other factor was that the prorogue has imposed a sharp time-limit. Consequently, Continuity!Remain just doesn't have the luxury of descending into factional infighting. The deep irony is that putting us on a tight deadline has actually helped us. It's imposed a focus that just wasn't there even 10 days ago.

Meanwhile, as for the wider country, well, Boris's walk-about up north yesterday seems to have been a complete disaster. Random people were basically coming up to him to tell him that it had all gone wrong. Then there was that bizarre speech he gave in front of a captive audience of police recruits. It was just weird - proper delusion territory, and entirely-incoherent. I'd like to compare it to Trump, but at least Trump can manage a consistent theme. Johnson was just rambling. There was nothing there, except possibly a desperate plea for attention. A lot of the political journalists I follow are openly-speculating about whether BoJo was on drugs during the speech.

(And wouldn't that be the ultimate post-2016 banter-timeline twist? If the Prime Minister - the Prime Minister! - got busted for snorting crack?)

Meanwhile, BoJo's narc-meltdown has accidentally undone Theresa May's one significant achievement.

Contrary to what many people think, Theresa May did manage to thread one single needle. That was, she (mostly) managed to keep the parliamentary Conservative Party together. Granted a few MPs jumped ship to Change UK earlier in the year, but it stayed in single digits. There was no big split - and, significantly, the Change UK crowd got wet feet about no-confidencing her. The advantage of this was that Theresa May avoided having the Tories fall into what we might call the 1922 Trap. Here's what I mean by that: in the late 19th Century, the old Liberal Party was increasingly-split on the issue of Home Rule for Ireland. The tensions only got worse as time went on. Then Asquith went and delivered the First World War and precious little else of value. (He was notably-slimey on votes for women, and seemed uninterested in doing anything about the property qualification that 40% of men still faced. The cynic might note that Nick Clegg's behaviour is not entirely new.) Lloyd George tried to put the party back on its feet, but the damage was done. During the 1920s, the Liberals were openly-split. At elections, Liberals ran against each other in numerous constituencies. Because of the way first-past-the-post voting works, in practise this meant that Tories or Labour got elected instead. (A constituency has - say - 46% of the vote for any Liberal candidate, but two run. Each of them gets 23% of the vote. A.N. Other Party takes 24% and gets the MP's seat.)

Theresa May's political strategy - yes, she actually did have one - was predicated on avoiding having Tories run against other Tories at elections. Given their divisions, it was a narrow needle, but she mostly managed to thread it. Boris Johnson has gone and exploded that. You see, of the 21 MPs he's sacked from the party, several are saying they'll contest the next election as independents.

It's hard to know just how big a problem the 1922 Trap will be - but, their vote is already split with the Brexit Party. And even the most optimistic opinion polls have the Tories around 10pts down on where they were in 2017. They're already in minority in the House - how many votes can they afford to lose, really?

Meanwhile, there's a further problem. The Tories' drift to the political right may have taken them too far. They assume that their friends at the Times, the Sun, the Telegraph and the BBC can plaster over the cracks for them - but, can they? The media was full-throated for May in 2017, and she still lost her majority. The newspapers are hysterical and shriekier than ever - but, who reads them? I can't remember the last time I bought a physical copy of one of the main papers. I suspect that's true of many other people too. There are signs that the socially-liberal/financially-conservative chunk of voters are starting to decamp to the Lib Dems. Again, it's not clear how big this movement is - but, as I said earlier, how many votes can the Tories afford to lose? It's possible that they could be facing the nightmare scenario of a general election where the right-wing vote is split three ways (four, if you count UKIP's still-slightly-tembling corpse, though they're close to a rounding error now). If the next election was still certain to be in 2022, all this would be somewhat academic. Two and a half years is a long time, they could find a way to turn things around. All things being equal, I expect they would.

But then BoJo had his narc meltdown, didn't he?

The so-called government is now in absolute minority in the House. While their opponents can't currently agree on an alternative prime minister, nonetheless the anti-BoJo grouping now has a majority of 43. They can stop him doing anything. No legislation is going to go through this house. Finance bills are basically dead on arrival. I really can't see how he could pass any kind of Budget. And also, if he does anything at all to irritate the Opposition, they can no-confidence him any time they feel like it. Quite simply, he's on death row.

My guess is that they'll leave him be during the prorogue period. The logic here is obvious enough - let him twist in the wind. He's doing a great job of destroying himself, so let him get on with it. This way, when Parliament returns late in October, they can do the deed and it will look like a mercy-killing rather than a gang-land execution.

Hypothetically, there are four ways Boris could get off the hook:

1) He could resign. This would arguably save him some dignity, and just perhaps it might leave a little room to revive his future career. But, he won’t take this option. He’s a narc. They don’t voluntarily quit. (Plus, uh, much as I’d cackle if he was forced to quit, it just leaves his successor with the same set of problems that he failed to address.)

2) He could try to simply ignore the anti-hard Brexit law. The problem here is, it would give the opposition a prima facie grounds for an immediate Motion of No Confidence. He might get some love from the rightwing press, but the ultimate result would presumably be his removal and a new Prime Minister. It would be the most pointless constitutional crisis ever.

3) He could arrange to lose a motion of no confidence in his own government. This would arguably be constitutional, and might be a way to trigger an early election. But, it would a) look utterly-absurd, b) be an unprecedented thing to do and c) would also require him personally to face the House telling him to fuck off. I’m not sure that a narc is capable of that. Also, there’s the issue that, as we saw in 2017, there’s no guarantee that he could win a general election. I’m absolutely not sanguine about the risks of an early GE but a) that’s democracy and b) if he runs his campaign the way he’s running being PM then he could well end up roasted.

4) He could reverse the prorogue. On the one hand, un-proroguing Parliament would buy him some extra legislative time. On the other hand, his opponents have control of the House, and a wobble on the prorogue would make him look weak. There’s not much upside for him here, though it’s the most “conventional” of the four options.

Basically the TL;DR is that while he has some choices, none of them are good and all of them could cause him considerable personal pain. The opposition have set up a proper four-pronged Morton’s Fork for him. Which tine will he impale himself on?

As for Brexit? Well, one interesting detail is that the underlying political question seems to be open again. It hasn't quite gained mainstream traction yet, but apparently people are starting to ask whether Brexit is going to happen at all. The Labour Party's position has moved visibly toward hard-Remain, albeit grudgingly. The Lib Dems are having their time in the sun again (though, I suspect that glomming up Philip Lee may help them less than they seem to hope). I don't know that I think it's going to happen, but I can now imagine a situation where at the end of October, the anti-BoJo constellation No-Confidences him then pushes a quick revocation bill through Parliament. (The "party line" here would be, "We wanted a second referendum but this man's scheming hasn't left us enough time.") Again, not saying this is at all likely, but I think it is now a possible outcome.

And if nothing else, BoJo's supposed golden hour is turning out to be quite the nightmarish turkey - and isn't that just delicious?

#diary of a disaster #UK internal politics #Boris's bad bad no good week #hahahahaha

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apparitionism · 5 years

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Mercury 9

Apparently it’s old-school week around here… this is the penultimate part of Mercury, which I started forever and a day ago (2014!) and have failed to update for almost as long. But as I’ve noted, I finish what I start, so here continues a tale concerning, among other things, Myka and Helena and some existential and ethical questions raised by the whole Janus coin/Emily Lake situation. It takes place at a county fair in Kenosha, Wisconsin, which might seem a trivial (or random) detail but in fact is not. We’ll see if I can pull the pins on my plot-grenades… what’s here will make no sense at all without what came before, and it’s honestly a bit much for a brief recap. I tried to link to the other parts, but I didn’t show up in search, so here’s another try without... [ETA: Whatever, Tumblr; I give up. Here are the links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, and part 8.]

Mercury 9

“It’s a real tossup,” Pete remarked as he walked between Myka and Helena, “whether it’s worse when you’re all over each other or when you’re on the outs.”

Their arrival at the fair that morning couldn’t have presented a clearer contrast to that of the day before: The distinct lack of rocking and rolling all night, as well as the sad absence of partying every day, made sure of that. The drive from the hotel had featured only functional words, mostly between Pete and Helena, and Myka found herself yearning for Helena’s floridly non-silent silent treatment instead. She could have used the low-stakes exasperation she felt when confronted with it to begin to grope her way into feeling that this problem, too, could be set back onto an established track, so an eventual reconciliation would be inevitable.

But a disagreement over Helena’s displeasure with Jules Verne, and with Myka regarding words said about Jules Verne? That was barely skin-deep. This went all the way through, like a bullet, one with both their names on it. A really big bullet… Myka struggled to keep herself from believing that this one was also of Helena’s invention. What goes up—into the stratosphere, into something like happiness—

No, Myka had told herself firmly, halting that line of thought just as Pete was looking at his phone and reporting, “Ida texted. She’s at the barn. Says to meet her, but that there’s no new intel on the Lelands.”

“Still at square one,” Myka grumbled. “Great.”

Pete rubbed his hands together. “It is great. We have to go right by the Pizza Pagoda on the way.”

As they’d walked (and walked and walked), Myka stewed at the fair both in its particulars—had these people never seen an actual pagoda? couldn’t they correctly identify the structure in which money was being exchanged for pizza?—and in its entirety. People were happy. Having a good time. Eating pizza. Wearing smiles.

She didn’t want to kick a rock; she wanted to hide under one. Or send all of those pizza-eating smilers to hide under one so she wouldn’t have to see how unaffected by this situation they all were. How dare they be so unscathed.

Helena had a unique ability to push her to this kind of resentment. After Yellowstone, Myka could hardly bear to look other people in the eyes, in their unknowing, unaffected faces; after Pittsburgh, the same. After, after, after. After Kenosha?

Then again maybe they would never get to the after; maybe they were doomed to trudge through this fair forever with Pete, who was now shaking his head and repeating, “Real tossup.”

Helena, walking on his right side, radiated nonresponse. He looked expectantly to the left, at Myka.

“I’m pretty sure it’s worse right now,” she said. She considered kicking him under a rock.

“Well, for you,” he fake-pouted. “You never think about me.”

“Right. Never. Who just bought you that slice of pizza at that Quonset hut they didn’t even bother putting in a pagoda costume?”

“The pizza fairy. Hey, you could be her twin!”

And that, surprisingly, made Myka smile and shake her head. She twitched an involuntary glance rightward and realized that Helena was having the same response.

Helena looked up and leftward, met Myka’s eyes, and clearly came to the reciprocal realization.

The atmosphere shifted.

One look didn’t reverse the effects of the past twenty-four hours, not nearly. But Myka was self-aware enough both to understand how that one look softened the air between them, and to resent how smoothly and easily it had done such work.

How dare you, she said to herself. How dare you knuckle under. If you’re going to be angry and jealous and unreasonable, you could at least have the rank obstinacy to stay that way.

And Helena had this unique ability too: to make everything Myka did, everything she felt, seem right and wrong at the same time.

This nonsense at a fair might have been a particularly egregious example of Myka tripping over Helena and stumbling into that state, but it wasn’t the only one.

She remembered, as a paradigmatic case, a time when she had been trying to hide an injury. “I’m on the way!” she’d yelled from the bedroom as she quickly dealt with changing the dressing on her wound. Just a flesh wound, nothing serious, certainly not life-threatening, and barely even blood-supply-threatening: a cut on her abdomen. Nobody reasonable would have called it a gash or a slice or anything like that. She’d made Pete promise not to tell anyone about it, post-retrieval, because sure, it hurt, but it didn’t matter.

Judging from the horror on Helena’s face when she barged in and realized what Myka was doing, though? It mattered to her. And the potential for that horror was a large part of why Myka had tried to hide it—but Helena’s face was now shouting that Myka had failed. She’d made Helena feel the horror, and maybe worse, she’d rendered Helena unable to hide that she was feeling it.

“Don’t get like this,” Myka said. (Because warning Helena off always went so very well.)

“I am not getting like anything.”

“Okay, okay,” Myka then said. (Because placating Helena also always went so very well.)

“I am reacting, as a human does, to another human’s injury.”

“And don’t play it off either! You wouldn’t be getting like this over Pete.” The latter, Myka said because it was true, but even as she said it, she saw that pointing it out wasn’t going to be any sort of positive contribution to the situation.

“You want my reaction to be entirely because of you, yet you also want me not to have it at all.”

Under other circumstances, Helena might have smiled as she said something like that, and Myka, with an admittedly unreasonable hope that the smile might still be forthcoming, said, “Yes.”

It wasn’t. “But you knew I would have it,” Helena said, unsmiling and prosecutorial. “You were trying to hide this from me.”

When Helena got prosecutorial, Myka got defensive. “Okay, yes. I didn’t say it made sense.”

“Good, because it doesn’t.” Stubborn.

Which Myka could match: “I know that. I just said that.”

“I want to care for you.”

Helena didn’t mean “take over a mundane first aid task,” and Myka knew that too. Yet she snapped, “I can take care of myself.” Even as another part of her was prodding her with You want her to care for you and How long did you really think you could hide the need for this mundane first aid task from her anyway.

“I’m certain you can.”

That was raw hurt, shivering under an inadequate coat of dispassion—and Myka responded wrong to both: “Right. Just like I assume you can.” And that was out-and-out perjury. Helena’s fragile body, so tenuously and lately re-housing the soul it should… Myka was absurdly protective of that body, but Helena shouldn’t have felt the same way about Myka. Shouldn’t have had to feel the same way, and certainly shouldn’t have been boxed into showing that she felt that way.

They’d papered over that confrontation somehow, but Myka couldn’t remember the resolution, which had to mean that it had been something as simple as what had happened just now, on a graveled pathway at a fair in Kenosha with Pete standing between them talking about a pizza fairy: mutual recognition of a shared response. Some reminder of commonality of feeling, of purpose. Surely that was the wrong way to handle conflicts in a relationship… but just as surely, it was right, too.

However: They still hadn’t said a meaningful word to each other by the time they reached the barn. Myka was still perversely attempting to work her resentment back up, and Helena was clearly avoiding looking at her, maybe just as perversely, maybe to avoid creating another moment of fellow-feeling, and Myka tried selling herself an even more unreasonable story about that: It’s because she knows she’ll bust out laughing when she sees my face working to stay surly, and—

“I realize I’m being a busybody,” Ida said, first thing, “but I’m sensing some tension between my leading ladies. And not the kind that keeps people tuning in.”

Pete said to Myka, “She means UST.” To Helena, he said, “They tune in for UST.” Both of them must have looked baffled, for he gave up on them and said to Ida, “It was like that with them, for basically ever. Before they R’ed the ST. But you can keep that going only so long, you know?”

Ida nodded. “So many shows get it wrong.”

“For what it’s worth,” Pete said, his voice conspiratorially low, “I think Myka and H.G. got it right.”

Mere moments before, Myka would have had to struggle to keep from saying, irritably and out loud, that Pete should shut up. But the shift—it kept happening, Pete’s words helping it along, despite Myka’s attempts to wrestle herself angry. She and Helena had certainly not apologized, or compromised, or exchanged more than that single glance, but between them there was a tuning, like the manipulation of a radio dial: static, then the beginning of decodable sound, the tiny twist calling music, voices, a signal more and more clearly into the receiver from the ether. Any errant twitch of fingers on the dial might cause the transmission to be lost again.

Myka didn’t want it lost. She looked, with purpose, at Helena, and Helena looked back. Still no apologies, no compromise… but the signal strengthened.

“You’re very sweet to them,” Ida told Pete.

Now Myka rolled her eyes, but she tried to keep the motion as small as possible.

“I know, right? You’d think they’d appreciate me more.”

“You need a love interest,” Ida said.

“I double-know that. But the fans, I think they’d still be all about Bering and Wells.”

Ida looked at Myka, then Helena, then back and forth again. “Which one is which?”

Pete put on a boxing-announcer voice: “In this corner, you got your tall, dark, and broody: that’s Bering. Across the ring from her, there’s Wells: not quite so tall, also dark, also broody, but with epic, extra fallout.”

“Isn’t that funny,” Ida said to Helena.

Helena crossed her arms in defense. “What? ‘Epic, extra fallout’? That is not funny.”

Might not be funny, but it isn’t wrong, Myka thought. Then Helena turned a quick, overbright glare on Pete with a mutter of “and I know what ‘fallout’ means now, thank you very much,” which made Myka think, But maybe also a little funny…

“It’s funny that you’d show up here,” Ida said.

“Here?” Pete asked, and Helena echoed, “Here?”

Before Myka could do the same—because that didn’t seem funny at all—Ida followed up with, “And I just now worked it out: H.G.! I see why that’s your nickname.”

“It’s not my nickname,” Helena said. She’d uncrossed her arms, but now she crossed them again, and Myka wondered whether any photographs existed of Helena as the sulky, impossible child she must have been, when she wasn’t otherwise occupied with charming everyone into treating her as the miniature adult she no doubt considered herself to be.

Pete gave Helena a quizzical look. “But it kind of is your nickname. I mean, those are your initials, so… wait. Here. Ida, you are brilliant and so am I, because I know exactly what you’re thinking. And now I got it: I also know exactly what we’re looking for.” He looked at Myka, then at Helena. “Because who’s from Kenosha?” To Ida, he said, “Don’t give it away; they think they’re so smart, but we’ll see.”

“Who’s from Kenosha?” Myka repeated. “Probably almost everybody at this fair. Except us.”

“But who else is from Kenosha?”

“Probably almost all the other people who live in Kenosha?” Myka looked to Helena for help, but Helena shrugged.

Her own look, followed by Helena’s shrug, and immediately it struck Myka: that was their first real, intentional communication since the morning’s argument, and it did figure that it was about not knowing what Pete was getting at. Myka wasn’t yet ready to admit to anyone, including herself, that Pete was actually being very helpful today.

“Plus?” Pete pushed.

Myka tried, “Plus people who moved away?”

“Exactly. And who moved away?”

“A lot of people. Probably.” Myka knew she was being uncharitable, but small towns really weren’t her favorite. She figured living in Univille was most likely a karmic punishment… for what, she wasn’t quite sure, but she certainly hadn’t spent this life, or probably any other, being as perfect as she’d intended to be, and small-town-South-Dakota purgatory was undoubtedly the result. “Maybe,” she softened, ideally defraying some of the spiritual cost.

Pete snickered. “Not a lot who used a microphone and people believed it.” He stopped and waited, mouth a bit expectantly open, like a dog waiting to be rewarded for chasing a ball. “Really? No ideas? How about you, supergenius? Kinda up your alley, there, Agent Wells.”

Then Myka got it, and so did Helena, for they said in unison, “War of the Worlds?”

Pete exhaled an at-last noise. “That’s right: Orson Welles, Kenosha boy. Hated the place, but still.”

War of the Worlds. Of course. Myka sighed, because it really had to have happened sooner or later. “You’re saying you think this is the microphone from the War of the Worlds radio broadcast?”

“I’m saying it loud, and also proud, because I’m the one who thought of it, with the fabulous assist from my best friend Ida. I could say it through the thing, so you’d believe me like all those radio listeners believed Martians were attacking, but I don’t think I’m gonna have to.” He fiddled with his phone and turned the screen to Ida. “It looked pretty much like that, right?”

“Just like that. And that’s funny too: I’d forgotten it said ‘CBS’ on it, but it did. What a terrible witness I’d make in a courtroom drama.” She looked at all three of them in turn. “This TV show I’m running around like I’m on, it isn’t a CBS one, is it?”

Pete shook his head. “Not so much. Maybe Fox? Lower budget, though, so probably Syfy; FX if you’re lucky. But don’t tell.”

Myka couldn’t find it in her to be angry at him for saying too much, particularly not when Ida said, with real regret, “No one would believe me anyway.”

“Well, no,” Pete said, but he put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “On account of you don’t have the microphone.” He held a sssshhh finger to his lips.

“But that leaves us still at square one,” Myka pointed out.

Pete frowned. “And not on the way past pizza this time either.”

“I have an idea,” Ida said.

Pete now flung his arm around her fully. “Like I said, you’re brilliant. From the start I knew I liked you. This idea, is it about pizza?”

“It’s about knowing, not pizza. Knowing, and believing. Ginny knows she’s going to lose the pie contest, because of Agnes and key lime. But what if she happened to win instead?”

He wrinkled his brow. “What if she… oh, I get it. She’d be very into being there. You think that’d override their supervillain plot, whatever it is?”

“I think it would override her grandchildren. And the fact is, she does believe in herself—she always holds out a little hope in these key lime years. Dreams the impossible dream.”

“So we flush her out, assuming she’s lurking, by making sure she wins? But how do we do that?” Pete asked.

Ida smiled. She looked very proud of herself. “I’m going to make Agnes’s pie disappear.”

“Poetic,” Myka said, and she couldn’t help herself; as she said it, she looked at Helena.

“Ironic,” Helena countered, directly at Myka..

Poetic, ironic… and then this struck Myka: those were the first real, intentional words they’d said to each other since the morning’s argument.

An ironic, or possibly poetic, twist of lip from Helena acknowledged that she, too, knew the exchange for what it was.

Pete said, “I personally am an expert in making pies disappear, so maybe I should be the one who sticks his neck out on this one.”

“You’re so sweet,” Ida told him, and Myka had to concede that it was actually true. (Except when it wasn’t.) Ida went on, “But if I’m going to be on a show, no matter what network carries it or who I can tell about it, I’m certainly going to see it through. Plus, in a very CBS way, I’d like everything back to normal.”

Myka thought, Sing it, sister. Not that I know what normal is, but I know what it isn’t.

Yet she and Helena walked side by side as their little team crossed the fairgrounds, the air between them unheavy. It wasn’t a normal walk by any means… but it wasn’t a march to be endured, as she’d begun the day thinking all their walks would be. She might have turned to Helena and said normal words. She didn’t, but she might have—and that was progress. Reparative progress.

The pie-judging location was not, Myka was pleased to find, a named pagoda, pavilion, patio, or promenade, but rather a large and simple tent, with no sign designating it the Pie Tent, probably because it was also the bread, pickles, and jam tent. She could feel Pete’s mouth watering as they entered the space.

Ida lasered in on the pies, which were clearly the main attraction, displayed like crown jewels on inky-velvet–clad shelving. “I’ve never tried such skullduggery before,” she confided. She looked at the pies, then looked at Myka and Helena in a way that Myka found immediately disconcerting. “I’ll need a distraction. Leading ladies, would you oblige?”

Pete snickered, but he applauded as he did so. “Oh, you’re good. You definitely watch a lot of the right kind of TV. My hat’s off to you, ma’am.”

“No,” Myka said. “Just no.” As if things weren’t bad enough, now she was supposed to put on some show for—

“Now wait,” Helena said, and her tone was her most “reasonable,” which at no time did Myka ever find to be actually appeasing, “Mrs. Thatcher has a plan, one that may very well succeed. Shouldn’t we contribute to that potential success? Agents don’t simply stand around and watch while other people make and implement plans to help them.”

“I really don’t see why not,” Myka said, deploying her own version of “reasonable.” “Or maybe Pete could stuff all the bread in his mouth. That’d be distracting.”

“Maybe I could,” Pete said, appraising the bread entries.

Helena did that little ironic, or poetic, twist of lip again, and now Myka knew perfectly well that she was being dared to think about Helena’s lips. The twist became a full smile as Helena said, “Won’t you kiss me passionately before the good people of Kenosha?”

“It doesn’t have anything to do with pie,” Myka said, knowing it was a nonsensical objection, not fully knowing why she was making it, because she did want to kiss Helena. But ideally someplace where they could work things out—which was emphatically not before the good people of Kenosha.

“That’s why it’s a distraction,” Pete explained, with seriousness. “Or you could have a slap fight. Your choice I guess; they’ve both got about as much to do with pie.”

Ida shook her head. “I’ve seen slap fights over everything in this tent, pie included. That wouldn’t even register.”

Myka raised eyes and palms heavenward in capitulation, because what choice did she really have, and Helena took that as her cue: “At long last,” she declaimed, “I declare publicly my love for you. Good people of Kenosha, you are my witnesses.” She gestured floridly to those witnesses, obviously to ensure that she had attracted, and would attract still more, attention. Then she turned back to Myka, displaying an impish facsimile of ardent sincerity. “Tell me that you reciprocate my ardor, so that I may live out my remaining days a happy woman.”

Myka began, “You are just too—” and she would have ended with “much,” but Helena took advantage of her mouth saying “too” to bestow one kiss, then another, and Myka had no choice but to play along.

“I know you don’t like to kiss me in front of other people, most days, and today perhaps not at all,” Helena murmured as they kissed and stopped, kissed and stopped. “I know it’s a hardship for you.”

“Hardship,” Myka sighed out. Why did Helena have to dig at her like this? “Are people watching?” she asked as they continued these strange, designed-to-be-seen kisses.

Helena smiled through one kiss, then another. “As if they were judging our worthiness for a ribbon in an osculation contest.”

“This is ridiculous,” Myka muttered.

“More so if you don’t participate. I myself want to win, not merely place.”

So Myka participated, to the extent that she could, given the still-unreconciled business of the day before, and the night, and this morning. She felt herself make a face as they broke apart minimally again—and then she made the break definitive, for she saw Pete give her a thumbs-up. “Pie achieved,” she informed Helena. “Thank god.”

“Myka,” said Helena, in mild rebuke.

“Helena,” Myka sighed in response. “Why do we do this?”

“Because we prefer it to the alternative,” Helena said. “At least, I do.”

And the challenge made Myka kiss her one more time, kiss her right. “I do too,” she said, making no face this time.

Helena shrugged her slim shoulders and said, with a tiny smile, “More than earlier today?”

“Exactly the same,” Myka told her, because it was true: she preferred every aspect of their relationship, even its most difficult terrain, to any alternative she could imagine… and for that response she was rewarded, because there was the smile, the precious one that graced Helena’s face at the best of times, the one that made Myka wonder how she had made it through decades of her life before this maddening presence swept in and made herself at home.

Myka hoped, given that the kissing seemed to have facilitated the pie-stealing as intended, that the proceedings would hustle their way to a conclusion… but no. The actual pie-judging was an elaborate affair, even unto the deployment of ceremonial utensils: knives of various sizes and sharpenings, serving implements with ornately sculpted handles, forks featuring equally silvered intricacy. Slicing, lifting, raising morsels with surprising elegance to judgmental mouths.

And speaking of judgmental mouths—and eyes, and pointing fingers—several of those continued to be directed at Myka and Helena. Helena, of course, settled into a showy preen, as if the attention obviously was entirely congratulatory, and Myka was as hard put as ever to understand how a literal Victorian could be more openly defiant of any given situation’s norms than someone who’d learned the world a century later.

But the century-later-learner in question was Myka, who labored to find and abide by every nuance of the norms governing any situation. And the literal Victorian in question was Helena, who would have defied norms regardless of when, regardless of whose. Regardless, Helena would have flown a flag that said Yes you should be looking, and you should be applauding my audacity, and as for anyone who fails to do so? I will spare no time or thought for those unfortunate fools.

But also: Look at me for my audacity. Not for the feral, fearful animal it hides.

And what about Myka, drawn to both those things?

Every nuance of the norms: of course, at the worst of times, she clung ever more tightly to those norms, begrudging Helena both the audacity and what it hid, condemning herself for finding all of it irresistible.

How handy, in those worst times, to have Emily Lake to wield as a cudgel. Or a scalpel.

Right, Myka thought, help them punish Helena, you and Helena, more: No, Regents, don’t trouble yourselves, no no no; I, Myka Bering, will take it from here. Because I am exactly the sort of dutiful idiot who would do that.

She didn’t want to be that sort of dutiful idiot.

So don’t, she told herself. Don’t do their dirty, punitive work. Make things better, not worse.

Myka deliberately caught the eye of a younger woman, one glaring a disapproval that belied the idea that that that demographic was wholeheartedly embracing change… Myka raised her eyebrows at her—not quite Helena’s flag-flying, but a challenge all the same. Then she moved so that her shoulder rested against Helena’s. Helena looked up in surprise, then let her own body lean, with the most gentle of pressure, on Myka. A whisper of relief. And all that mattered, in this moment, was Helena’s body, this long-lived body that had borne, and was still bearing, so much more than it was ever meant to. Myka was embarrassed by her own tendency to stagger under the weight, when what she should have been saying, and enacting, was I’ll carry you.

One clasp of Helena’s body, one breath into her hair; Helena turned once into the curve of Myka’s neck. These soft things didn’t reverse the past twenty-four hours either. But they allowed Myka, at least, to begin to pay productive attention to more-mundane problems.

Like a case to be brought to a conclusion. Slowly.

“What are those judges even doing?” Pete was asking Ida, and that earned him a tsk-tsk. They tasted the pies one more time, she told him, to make sure. “Even though they already basically know who won?” he complained.

“Without the second tasting, this plan wouldn’t work,” Ida reminded him, “because Agnes would already have won. Besides, you seem like the kind of man who’d feel a kinship with people who like having lots of opportunities to eat pie.”

“Yeah, but it’s taking them forever,” he groaned, and Myka was inclined to echo him.

“It’s important,” Ida told him.

To Myka’s surprise, Helena said, “She’s right.”

“Pardon?” Myka said.

“This… deliberation. Over something so seemingly small as the taste of a pie—it reminds me of the past. Not the harsh past, which I extolled to you, but its softer, slower aspect.” As Helena said this, her eyes weren’t misty, exactly, but they were looking at some fair that wasn’t this one. “I was wrong to maintain that the difference runs in only one direction. Forgive me?”

Myka’s impulse was to say “There’s nothing to forgive”—but they both had a lot to forgive. It also seemed to slight Helena’s… nostalgia? And her sincerity about that nostalgia. So Myka hesitated.

Helena then said, “From time to time I fail to acknowledge that a position should have nuance.”

As if Myka’s pause had meant she needed Helena to offer still more words of expiation. As if only then might Myka say “yes” in answer to a question about forgiveness.

It made Myka want to cuddle her. And shake a fist at her… but then again, she knew that she herself inspired the exact same push-pull in Helena.

So: “Me too,” Myka said.

And she was glad she’d got that out when she did, for then everything started happening: Ginny Leland’s peach/apple pie was announced the first-place winner “due to an unfortunate last-minute withdrawal,” and suddenly Ida was pointing, saying “There it is!” and Pete was rushing up to an ecstatic woman and a startled man, the latter indeed in possession of a microphone.

“I don’t understand,” said Paul Leland.

“I don’t care!” his wife declared. “I won!”

She rushed away to claim her ribbon. Her husband took a step as if to follow her, but Pete tapped him on the shoulder and said, “Excuse me, sir, but would you mind letting me have a closer look at that vintage sound equipment you’ve got there? It’s from about 1938, if I’m not mistaken, which I’m not. Right?”

“You can see me,” said Paul Leland.

“Yes I can,” Pete said. “And just to make sure that keeps being true, why don’t you pass the mic to this nice lady in the fancy purple gloves… ha! For a fistful of truth!”

“I don’t understand,” he said again, and he did look utterly baffled. He didn’t resist when Myka took the piece of history from him.

“Beastie Boys,” Pete informed him.

Myka muttered a cautionary “Pete…”

“Yeah, sorry. I actually don’t understand either, because I’m sort of getting a vibe that you’re not a supervillain. But you know what I’m also sort of getting a vibe about? This maybe has something to do with how you don’t watch radio.”

“I didn’t want anyone to see me…” Paul Leland said slowly. “I didn’t want anyone to see me, and then they didn’t. Why didn’t I want anyone to see me? Ginny!” he called to his wife, then headed in her direction. Myka didn’t see any need to stop him; they had the artifact, and Pete was most likely right: he wasn’t a supervillain.

“Maybe that’s the downside?” she wondered to Helena. “Wanting to be invisible?”

“Then why his wife as well?” Helena wondered back. “If it’s simply a consequence of using the microphone, wouldn’t it adhere only to him?”

“You don’t know the Lelands,” Ida said. “How could anything happen to one of them and not the other? They’re inseparable. Adhering’s a good word for it… look!” She gestured toward the now-reunited couple, and indeed, as Ginny Leland glowed with pride over the blue ribbon she held, Paul seemed to shine too.

Pete said, “So we’re thinking that on account of him not wanting to be seen, they weren’t, then on account of her really really wanting to, they were? That’s… some kind of teamwork.”

And Ida mused, “It’s like that sometimes.” She looked, with intent, at Myka and Helena. “Isn’t it.”

“Isn’t it,” Helena echoed. She leaned once again on Myka.

Myka was still gloved, still holding the artifact, so she unfortunately couldn’t take much enjoyment from that lean, or do more than vaguely return it. “Let’s go behind the tent,” she suggested, and Pete whistled. “To bag the microphone,” she said, but her withering tone never had any effect on him.

Ida followed them behind the tent, and once again, Myka couldn’t see her way to objecting.

Pete had a static bag in hand; Myka tried to slip the microphone into it, but he insisted on putting on gloves himself and taking the artifact from Myka, and then he insisted on Farnsworthing Claudia before he did anything else. Myka didn’t understand why until he said, “And now here we go. All you lovely ladies are witnessing my very first literal mic-drop.” Myka heard this “literal” as a minor, if most likely accidental, miracle, while Claudia said an extremely dry “waited a lifetime for this” and “imagine my delight.”

“I’m starting to develop a theory about why you people bring up mushrooms,” Ida said, gazing at the Farnsworth.

“In my day we often suggested it was laudanum,” Helena told her.

Ida made a noise of speculation. “And I’m starting to develop a theory about why you said ‘H.G.’ isn’t your nickname.”

Pete held the microphone up and waved it. “Show’s happening right here right now! Come one come all to the center ring!” Before Myka could object that this was a fair and not a circus, he dropped it in.

Nothing happened.

“Here in Kenosha,” Ida said—gently, as if Pete’s feelings might be hurt—“we wouldn’t really call that a ‘show.’”

Pete shook the bag, seemingly encouraging it to work harder. “Claud, could we be in a defective static situation?”

“If so,” Claudia told him, “It’s one of those really random black-swan thingies. Not impossible, but—”

“I’ll try another one,” he assured her.

Nothing happened.

“I see what you mean about the low budget,” Ida told him.

Pete looked mournfully into the bag. “So I was wrong? Not an artifact after all… hey, waitaminute,” he said. He shed a glove, fished the microphone out, held it up, and said through it, “Sugar is nutritious.” His voice boomed even more than usual.

That’s a funny thing for him to have said, Myka thought, because of course—

“Hey, Mykes, how do you feel about eating sugar?” he asked.

And that was a funny thing for him to have asked. She gave him her best Pete you are insane look and said, “Well, it’s nutritious, so of course I feel pretty good about it.”

Did he look… horrified? “This is bad,” he said, and through the Farnsworth she heard Claudia shriek, “You broke Myka! You bet it’s bad!”

Myka tried to reassure them both: “No, sugar’s good.”

“Oh my lord,” Helena said, and Myka couldn’t understand why her voice clutched in a way that nearly matched Pete and Claudia…

TBC

#bering and wells #Warehouse 13 #fanfic #Mercury #part 9 #I'm assuming that those of you who know the referenced history now get why the story's name is what it is #(if you hadn't guessed already)#it's also a callback of sorts to my own 'Quicksilver' story #and to the fact that Helena is HG #which I continue to find massively appropriate #anyway everything always connects up #or maybe it's that we humans can't resist ferreting out ways in which things connect up #it's like our desperate drive to infer causality where none exists #everyone loves the word 'because'

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jamrockshuffles · 5 years

Text

Deviated Paths: Jericho Part 2

Chapter 2: Hank

Previous: 1

Next: 3

Get ready for some Hank & Connor hurt/comfort. Dad!Hank is best Hank imo.

For the first time in his short existence, Connor had no objective. His life had always been filled with prompts and commands, small guidance to lead him through life and to help him complete his mission. Now, it was just a blank screen. Even his warning signals had gone away. He felt the cold metal of Jericho under his hands and the blinding hot stares of the other androids in the room on his back. Had he deviated? They got what they wanted in the end, there was no way that he could go back to Cyberlife and tell them about Jericho nor was there any way for him to rejoin the police force for the remainder of the deviancy cases.

He was a deviant now, no matter how much he didn’t want to be. Connor turned and looked at the faces of the androids that had done this to him. Without saying anything, he grabbed his beanie off of the floor and tugged it back onto his head, securing it low down to where it covered where his LED should have been. Shakily, he pushed himself up off of the floor, swaying as he stood on his feet. Everything felt off-kilter like somebody had gone in and ripped around in his wires. The others were looking at him expectantly.

Like deviating had somehow changed him in a drastic way. Perhaps it had, because before he was thinking he said, “they’re going to attack Jericho.”

---

Connor used their confusion and panic to slip out the back and away from the ship. He didn’t owe them anything, and he had done his best to warn them of the attack. If they were smart, they would take this time to evacuate and probably destroy the ship. It was safer to relocate somewhere else that didn’t have their name painted on the side like a flashing beacon anyway.

He didn’t know what to do next. Checking the HUD again, and there were still no messages. Cyberlife hadn’t tried to contact him. Granted, they wouldn’t really be able to then but still. Did they know he had gone deviant yet? Amanda or one of the others would have probably tried to message him about his progress by now. Or, they would be doing so shortly. Maybe they thought that he was going to die when the attacks happened…

Was that what they had planned?

All that Connor knew was that he felt a bone-deep tiredness and needed to sleep go into stasis mode. There weren’t many places he could go to do this, but he bet that he could probably go and see the Lieutenant.

Winter as a deviant was a lot harsher than winter as a machine. It was very unpleasant and made Connor’s movements sluggish. Still no objectives, but there was a new warning across his HUD.

「Warning: LOW TEMPERATURES, SEEK WARMTH」

「Warning: LOW POWER, AUTOMATIC STASIS IN 00:03:40:10」

He had around four hours until his body naturally shut down and would force him to go into stasis. How much power had he drained? Checking his status, it showed that he had around a 4% charge. His distress and his processors running rapidly had almost completely depleted his stored energy. What would have happened if he had gone into stasis before telling Markus and the others about the attack? They all surely would have died at that point, and the rebellion would have been finished. Either way, Cyberlife would have won and Connor would have been killed in the process.

It was an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach. No matter the circumstances, if he hadn’t deviated and told them about the attack, both himself and the entirety of the android revolution would have been destroyed in one fell swoop. It was a bit surreal. The consequences of his actions were unintentionally saving his life, and the lives of all the other androids on the ship, if they had bothered to evacuate. Who was on the boat exactly? He hadn’t had the time to scan all of the faces. Were they all non-violent, as Markus claimed to be? Is that why he had never heard of them before?

Connor didn’t have time to think about that right now though. He needed to get to the Lieutenant's house unless he wanted to go into unprompted stasis on the cold streets of Detroit. His body would fully shut down if that happened.

---

Connor had the automated taxi drop him off about three blocks from the Lieutenant's. He wanted to make it harder for them to track his movements (though, since he deviated his trackers should be useless). Besides, he had warmed up a bit in the taxi so his biocomponents weren’t at a critical level anymore. He also had about two and a half hours until he went into unprompted stasis.

Connor was trying to think of things to say on the walk over to Lieutenant Anderson’s house. How was he supposed to explain what happened? He would surely have questions for the android. This new emotion, which he cataloged away, made him feel like maybe he should try to find somewhere else to go into stasis. That wasn’t really an option, though, as it was late and he couldn’t risk shutting down outside. He could maybe tell him that he’ll talk to him after he rests for a while? Connor knew that the Lieutenant had a charging station at his house, just in case Connor had to charge. He also understood that he probably wasn’t very fond of having that charging station, since he had a negative view on androids.

The porch light was off when Connor approached the house. It didn’t surprise him though, as his internal clocks read that it was 1:43am. Lieutenant Anderson may not even be awake, so if Connor wakes him up he may be grouchy and not let the android inside. A message popped up, stating that if Connor woke up the Lieutenant that he had about a 64% chance of being let inside, but if he just found the spare key and let himself in, that jumped up to a 93% chance of being able to stay inside for the night. So, Connor scanned the surrounding area calculating where the spare key would be hidden. He didn’t want to just bust through the man’s window again. Connor didn’t think he would enjoy a repeat performance.

A quick scan showed that the key was hidden behind a loose brick on the side of the house. Not as obvious a hiding place as a false rock, but it was easy enough to wriggle out and grab the silver key. Connor put the brick back and put the key in the lock. When he entered the house, he noticed immediately how much warmer it was than the outside. A rush of relief fell over him. He quickly locked the door back and put the key on the kitchen table. Then, he grabbed the charger from the corner, plugged it in, and moved over to the couch to curl up. Sumo ‘boofed’ softly at him, following him onto the couch and curling up in his lap. After plugging in, Connor let himself enter stasis naturally and sagged against the couch.

That was the way that Lieutenant Anderson found him a few hours later. Connor was startled out of stasis when Hank let out a loud shout.

“What the hell Connor? What’re you doing on my couch?” Connor blinked up at him, his systems taking a few seconds to come back online. It showed that he went from 4% charge to around 35% charge, so it was enough to keep him going for a while.

“Oh, hello Lieutenant Anderson. I was running low on charge, so I came by to charge. Sorry if it was a shock to see me, but you were the closest place and my biocomponents were going to be damaged out in the cold.” Hank looked puzzled. He knew that the android usually went to Cyberlife to charge, or stayed at one of the police stations charging ports overnight. Yes, he had bought the charger for Connor to use, but he didn’t think he was in critical enough condition to have to use it.

“I’m not sure how you got into my house, but seeing as there’s no broken glass I guess you used the spare key. You must have been in pretty rough shape to come directly here since the police and Cyberlife have much better chargers than I do.” Connor drew in a sharp breath. He wanted to try to hide his deviancy from the Lieutenant, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to. It would be fairly obvious that he was a deviant, and it’s not like he could hide it forever. Cyberlife would come knocking when they realized that he was still online. Then they would kill and disassemble him to study his deviancy like they had wanted to do to Markus.

“I-I can’t go back to Cyberlife,” Connor stuttered, “I’m not of..use to them anymore.” As a deviant, was he of use to anybody anymore? Emotions and not knowing what to do were really confusing.

“What do you mean you can’t go back? Did you fail your mission or something?” Hank asked, sitting down on the couch next to Connor. He felt like the android was going to want to talk this out, whatever had happened.

“I wasn’t able to capture Markus. He..compromised me. Now, Cyberlife is going to kill me if they get a hold of me.” Connor was trying to stay strong but he felt like he was going to collapse again. His model wasn’t made to handle such intense feelings. They just got in the way of the mission. They served no purpose to him.

“Kill? Connor, I don’t think they’re going to kill you for making a mistake. I mean, you’ve failed a few missions in the past and you’ve been alright.” Hank was concerned. Connor could read that his stress level had gone up by 3% since the last thing that Connor had said. Connor suddenly felt another wave of panic hit him, and he let out a small sob.

“H-hank, they made me deviate.” Hank was shocked. First, Connor had called him Hank to his face, something the Lieutenant had been trying to get him to do for a little while now. Secondly, they ‘forced’ him to deviate? He wasn’t aware that could occur. He knew that androids deviated under intense stress and bad situations, but he had always known it of being of their own free will.

“Connor, it’s okay,” Hank said, putting his arm around the android, pulling him into his side. He used to do this when Cole was upset. “What happened, son?”

At that point, Connor wished he could interface with Hank. It would be so much easier, and Connor wouldn’t have to go through it again. He let out a shuddering breath, before explaining what had happened. From his arrival to Jericho to the pen knife to compromising the mission by telling them about the attack, and ending with him on the couch. He didn’t voice his concerns about Cyberlife planning to kill him from the very beginning, because he didn’t want to think about them right then.

Hank’s face changed from passive to enraged by the end of the story. “That’s total bullshit. I’m going to kill Markus personally, that’s not something that you do to another living being.”

“Lieutenant, please,” Connor said, “I didn’t like it, but he was trying to protect his people. They couldn’t kill me, and they couldn’t just wipe my memory.” Connor wasn’t sure if he would ever trust or like Markus after that, but deep down he did understand that even if it wasn’t fair, he was their enemy at the time. Hank killing Markus wouldn’t do anything to solve his problems.

“He’s still a bastard,” Hank said, “and he better never get near you again or I will end him.” He stroked Connor’s hair. He couldn’t imagine the turmoil that Connor must be going through. He had shown signs of deviancy since they first met: ignoring orders, his coin trick, his excessive amounts of empathy; and Hank may have been trying to nudge Connor in that general direction, but it should have been his own choice, not forced upon him like that. All of that on top of the fact that Cyberlife would probably hunt down Connor now. Hank had to try to keep him safe.

“It’s going to be okay Connor, we’ll figure something out,” Hank reassured him, “I know you said your power was low, what are you at now?”

“I’m at 34% charged,” Connor said.

“Okay, why don’t you go back into stasis for a while until you’re fully charged. Then, we’ll come up with something.” Hank gave Connor a small smile. Connor nodded, laying back down on the couch. Hank brought a quilt for the android, but when he got back Connor was already in stasis. So, Hank tucked the blanket around him and left him there to charge while he came up with a semblance of a solution to their issue.

#detroit become human #dbh #dbh fanfic #detroit become human fanfic #connor dbh #connor #hank anderson #hank dbh #hank anderson dbh #hurt/comfort #jericho #jericho part two #long post

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