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charliesradiodemon · 4 years

Text

Corruption

Hello! This is a LATE birthday present for my dear friend @sesukytes ^.^

Happy late bday my dood <3

ENJOY

With Vaggie and Angel out of her life and the hotel still empty, Charlie’s fears became realized. She failed again. Even with a successful redemption program, nobody was interested.

At that point she didn’t know what to do anymore. She didn’t know what she could do anymore.

________________________________

Alastor resided to biding his time after witnessing Angel ascend to Heaven. It was a great shock that the naive little princess seemed to have finally made a breakthrough, but it seemed that it didn’t matter. He waited around to see if the rabble would bite and come running for a “better life”, but not a single desperate soul came even after two months.

Having been bored sick of his empty investment, Alastor decided to make his own move. A month had passed after he heard that Vaggie had ascended and Charlie refused to even leave the hotel. She’d been silent and wasn’t answering his calls nor calling him back.

“A shame, really...” he muttered while stiffly rapping his fingers on his pristine mahogany desk, not caring whether his sharp claws broke through the polish or not. He knew things couldn’t continue as they were. He was generous enough to give her time to recoup and continue on but his patience had finally reached its expiration date.

________________________________

When he walked up to her bedroom door, he already knew exactly what he needed to do. And in her state, leaving her would push her further down the spiral of despair. If he played it right, her broken expression could make up for the waste of time that he spent waiting on the hotel; not that he had many high hopes for it in the first place.

‘To see the broken look on her face...’

Alastor knocked before entering, a bit too eager see the final dregs of hope leave his partner.

What he found was truly pitiful.

She hadn’t been crying, but seemed as if she’d cried herself dry. Instead, she just stared at him blankly, looking broken and lifeless; not at all like her peppy self. Her eye sockets seemed to hollow in, her hair disheveled and somehow she seemed impossibly thinner than ever. When he looked into her eyes he found that the spark was nonexistent, leaving a blank gaze as if all that was left was an empty husk of a being.

Any fun he could have breaking her now was completely drained.

She was pitiful and it took him much effort to find a reason to stick around any longer. Without her life or her smile, Charlie was just a broken doll he couldn’t play with let alone break any further.

As she still said nothing to him, Alastor looked to her nightstand. There, an assortment of litter and tissues laid. In the center of it all: a small framed photo of her and her family sat. She looked to be younger than the portrait in the lobby, but still old enough to be considered a teen.

It was an unremarkable photo in all regards. He’d seen far too many of these family portraits around the hotel and the palace when he visited Lucifer. It seemed odd how family oriented the Magnes were considering how broken the relationship between Charlie and her parents were.

But unlike the ones Alastor had seen before, Charlie looked different. His eyes lingered on the visible horns protruding from her skull, standing tall and proud and unabashedly her’s. In the few family portraits Alastor had seen, Charlie seemed to purposefully hide her horns away even while her mother’s were displayed proudly.

He’d seen her horns and teases of her form in photos, paintings and on live television before, but Charlie had never looked so proud to show off her demonic features than in the photo on her nightstand. She was never ashamed of her demonic form, but rarely had she ever used her features. From what Alastor could remember from his time with her, he realized that she never utilized her demonic form or any powers.

He wasn’t even sure she even had any powers. He reckoned that she had to considering that she was a product of Lucifer, the most powerful being in Hell.

Alastor’s eyes fell back to the skeletal being before him and mulled over a thought that popped into his mind.

He could fix her- improve her even. She was practically a blank slate now, could he really pass up the opportunity? They could discover what exactly she was capable of together. Imagining the possibilities with the princess of Hell was just too enticing to let go.

Granted it wasn’t what he originally intended nor was he one to pick up fixer uppers, but he couldn’t just let the daughter of Lucifer waste away. It wasn’t like he had another venture lined up anyway.

________________________________

He continued to visit her daily, bringing her homemade food, clean clothes, linens and anything else she could need to cheer her up. He would talk to her, try to liven her up and keep her up-to-date on the latest news. Though she initially answered with single worded answers, it was clear his efforts were working as their conversations got longer as her state improved

Little by little, she opened up to him more and more. And in a short amount of time, she seemed to be back to a semblance of normal. And although she physically looked better and spoke more, Charlie was still missing the soul and spark that she’d lost.

Though Alastor didn’t mind. It was just all a part of the process.

Now, after a few weeks of nurturing her, it was time to get the ball rolling.

“All I’m trying to tell you sweetheart, is that you have been holding yourself back. You have so much potential for so much more! Aren’t you the slightest bit curious about what you can do?” Alastor sat on the edge of her bed, facing Charlie who had her legs drawn up to her chest.

Charlie held her knees tighter to her chest and frowned. “Not really...”

“What a shame! It could prove useful for your endeavors. Now that you know redemption is possible, you’ll need to attract more souls to your hotel!”

“I don’t know Al...”

He sat on the edge of her bed and reached over to place a hand on her cheek, drawing her attention to his softened gaze. “Trust me, my dear. I haven’t led you astray before haven’t I? You’ve already done all you could. Allow me to help this time.”

As much as she didn’t like the idea, she knew he was right. Now that she knew redemption was possible, she could help people get to Heaven. But did she have the energy or power to do that when everyone still doubted her? Nobody took her seriously and she doubted anybody would believe what she did at that point. Hesitant, but without many other options, Charlie nodded. “Okay, but I’m not making a deal with you.”

Alastor chuckled, smiling a bit brighter in response to the bit of spunk returning to her. “Not a problem sweetheart. I wouldn’t have expected it any other way.”

Another week passing meant another week gaining Charlie’s wholehearted trust.

Alastor had to admit, it was enjoyable watching her grow back into the person she was before. She even smiled on the rare occasion. But as pleasant he’d found that her company was, he needed to get her going.

Having known her father, Alastor knew that Lucifer had the ability to subjugate and pacify any demon at will. Any demon under his will would fall into a trance-like state and obey all orders, even if it meant permanent death for that demon. All he needed to do now was see if Charlie had inherited this ability from her father.

He brought it up to her, presented as an idea to bring in patients.

As expected, she seemed hesitant. “That doesn’t seem right Al.”

“Don’t you want to help your people? How else are they going to find salvation if they aren’t convinced?”

She paused, seemingly convinced yet careful. “They won’t...”

Alastor nodded, standing from her bed. “Exactly! And the longer you wait for them to come crawling to you, the more that will perish by the next cleanse! I know that you want to help your people, don’t you sweetheart?” He turned to her and extended a hand. “Now why don’t we try? It’s about time you’ve left your cave and let the world see your dazzling smile, so let’s kill two birds with one stone?”

Charlie looked between him and his hand several times while she deliberated her decision. If she did nothing, would things get any better? Alastor was so willing to help her in her time of need- even more so than Vaggie ever had.

What was wrong with trying?

She took his hand, earning her a wide grin and a strong tug from the man. With a yelp, she flew off her bed and into his waiting arms. In an unexpected turn of events, Alastor wrapped his arms around her.

Warmth filled her. When was the last time she’d gotten a hug from anyone? Months ago from Vaggie probably.

“A solid choice my dear! Might I say that I’m impressed with your resolve!” He bent away to find tears rolling down her cheeks. Bothered by their existence, he wiped them away with his index finger. “Why the tears, Charlie?”

“I... I just want to thank you for being here Alastor. I-I don’t want to th-think about where I’d be without you here...”

Alastor chuckled and gently placed his hand on top of her head. She was his now, there was no doubt about that anymore.

“Think nothing about it. I didn’t think I would ever find myself caring about another’s well being.” He said partially truthful.

Once she composed herself, Charlie left the hotel for the first time in nearly three months while holding Alastor’s hand for support. She’d almost forgotten what her home had looked like. The blood-red hue of the sky, the faint smell of rotting flesh; it was something she didn’t know she missed.

Still holding his hand tightly, Alastor led her out to the streets to get down to business. He’d waited far too long for this moment and he was all too eager to get started. “I believe your ability is innate, meaning if you just wanted it enough, anyone could be bent to your will,” he looked about the busy streets but quickly perked up. “Why not try it on that one there?” He said, pointing ahead of them.

When Charlie looked, there was a scraggly three-armed man sitting on the sidewalk holding a cardboard sign that simply read: “help” in crude lettering. He was a hulking purple giant of a man, taking up most of the walkway on the street. Had he not been so massive, the passerbys would have probably scowled at him for being so invasive. The purple demon also appeared to have a permanent frown on his face that made him even less approachable.

“I believe the man needs help, he’s practically asking for it dear,”

Charlie grimaced, suddenly feeling an awful twist of wrongness in her gut.

Alastor quickly sensed her hesitation by her tighter grip on his hand. “Charlie darling, I know you can do it. You can help that man. If you can do it, he’ll never have to beg in the streets again! You wouldn’t deprive him of that chance now would you? You know he certainly wouldn’t survive the next cleanse being so exposed like this,”

Again, he was right. Alastor was always right, and Charlie knew that well.

But still, it just didn’t sit right.

Alastor bent toward her, getting close so that she could only focus on him. Charlie stared into his ruby-red eyes, confusion in her eyes. “I will be here with you all the way.”

She hesitated a bit longer, biting down on her lips and looking down to the ground.

‘Alastor’s always right.’ She reminded herself in her head.

“Okay.”

They approached and Alastor let go of Charlie’s hand to watch her with anticipation from behind her.

Charlie forced a friendly smile on her face and waved up to the seated man. “Uh hi!”

The beggar man didn’t seem amused. “You got money?”

“I have something even better!”

“Meth?”

“Nope! I-I uh, I have a hotel! That redeems souls so that they can go to Heaven!”

The purple demon huffed a laugh. “Oh I know this scam! You want me to go with you to this hotel of yours and you’ll take my organs and use me for meat,” he crossed his two arms and let his third hand give Charlie the bird. “Yeah no thanks, bitch. Get lost.”

Before she could walk away dejectedly, Alastor held her shoulders to keep her in place and whispered in her ear. “Demand it. It will only work if you demand him with confidence. Try it again.”

She took a deep breath. ‘He’s always right.’ She subconsciously reminded herself once more.

“Hey didn’t I say get lost? The fuck you still-“

“You will come with me and stay at the hotel. You will work toward redemption to Heaven and stay there.” She stated firmly and devoid of emotion.

The man closed his mouth, removing the scowl on his face. Not even a moment later, he stood and looked to Charlie expectantly. “Sure thing.” He said with barely any emotion behind his own answer.

Charlie’s eyes widened and she gasped, feeling her heart race. Quickly she turned to Alastor and shot him an unsure look. “Al... I... I think I did it...”

Alastor chuckled and approached, studying the man for a moment. When Alastor leaned in close to the dirtier demon’s face, the other man did not react with any hostility, just with an innocently confused look on his face. Satisfied with the results, he turned back to Charlie and nodded “Yes you did, dear. Now, let’s check him in, hm?”

________________________________

Everything ran smoothly from the first patient in the hotel. Charlie began subjugating the homeless population quickly to beat the cleanse deadline. Every day she got into a normal routine that made bounds in her development. She quickly became much more confident, and most importantly: more reliant on Alastor and his opinions.

Alastor stood beside her wherever she went like he was a part of her being. Though he could be described as her shadow, Charlie seemed to be slowly melting into his.

She began doing everything he suggested. From subjugating whoever he pointed out, to smiling almost all the time, she was improving to his standards rapidly and eagerly.

He was her new constant in life, her lifeline and her only friend.

________________________________

With only days remaining until the next cleanse, the streets of Pentagram City were cleared of a large portion of its homeless population. She’d redeemed such a large amount of people that could have been lost to the cleanse and she was proud of it.

“Darling, the angels are coming this way.”

Charlie gasped, sprinting up to the window next to Alastor. What she found was a team of four angels making their way toward the hotel with deadly purpose. “What? Why?”

“They probably know where a large mass of demons are.” Alastor said calmly with a shrug.

It was time to awaken another power within her. He didn’t have a hand in this arrangement, but he wasn’t complaining. This was the perfect motivation to get Charlie going and he was giddy to figure out what was next.

Watching the figures get closer and closer, Charlie’s heart began to race with frustration and panic. “They can’t do that! I’m helping people!”

“They don’t seen to care.”

She laced her fingers in her hair, quickly losing her cool. “What do we do? We can’t relocate everyone! There’s too many of them!”

“I suppose we’ll have to fight.”

Charlie whipped her head around and stared her companion down in disbelief. “Al, that goes against what I’m trying to do here!”

“Then everyone perishes.”

‘He’s right, Alastor is always right.’

“...Okay. Let’s go then.”

________________________________

“Kill it.”

“W-what?”

“Kill it, or else it will keep coming.”

“B-but...”

Alastor bent, still looming over her and the writhing angel she’d caught in her grasp. He took her chin to look him in the eye. “You must, or else everyone will be in danger.”

Charlie’s head began to spin, her heart racing and the adrenaline rushed through her. ‘Everyone will die. All my hard work...’ She needed to do it. She needed to for her people’s sake.

Alastor let her go, allowing her to decide. If she truly put her full trust in him, he knew she’d do it. It was only a matter of time.

But he didn’t have to wait too long.

Charlie’s grip on the angel’s throat tightened, earning a gurgle from the struggling being. It couldn’t muster the strength to thrash nor could it dig its fingers in to try to pry the hand around its throat off.

She watched it struggle- watched the life slowly leave it. It was suffering. It was fighting so hard to live. It was a sad sight, yet Charlie’s pity for it quickly left as Alastor whispered in her ear. “That’s it, darling. Remember, they hold no remorse slaughtering your people. They even smile as they do so. So why don’t you smile as you return the favor?” He paused before chuckling.

He craned his head around to look at her face to find a smile forming on her face. “There you are. And what a lovely smile, Charlie. Truly a vision.”

Smile? Was she really smiling? How could she smile as she was killing something? Why did it feel so good?

The sudden squelch as well as the splattering of warm blood on Charlie’s face instantly removed her grin. The angel stopped squirming, but slid downward from her bloodied hand. Without a head atop its shoulders, there was nothing left for Charlie to grip. With two audible thuds, she watched as the body of the angel slumped over with the head rolling a bit away from its body.

‘Incredible strength, but I’m not surprised.’ Alastor thought, impressed by her feat. It took a great amount of strength to decapitate a being by just squeezing its neck.

He placed his hands on either side of her shoulders from behind to assure her. “No matter how many you kill, it’s not your patient’s sin. You cannot go to Heaven anyway dear so you’d might as well take the burden and protect them, right?”

She looked down at the angel’s headless body on the ground. “To protect them?”

He turned her slightly and stood in front of her. He gently placed a hand on her head, keeping her grounded. “Yes. I’m proud of you, Charlie.” It wasn’t a lie, he felt immense pride in the progress she’d made.

‘Proud of me?’ She questioned mentally. She pried her eyes off of the sin she’d just committed to whip her gaze to Alastor. “Alastor...” She whispered, tears beginning to form in the corners of her eyes.

“Yes dear?”

She didn’t say anything and instead jumped to wrap her arms around him, catching him off-guard.

He felt her trembling followed by an unmistakable moistness touching his bare chest. “My dear, don’t cry.”

His eyes narrowed as he wrapped his arms around her tightly. “I’m here. I won’t leave you.”

‘And all you need is me.’

#it's more of a quick fic #this could easily be broken up into multiple chapters #charlastor #charlastorfic #radiobelle #radiobellefic

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tf2-hellhole · 4 years

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Hey whats the mercs reaction to like a super short s/o but like they can take care of them selves and such but there like nah must protecc Real quick really love your work its super great

Thank you! I am glad you are enjoying my work! As a member of shortie gang this was fun to write lmao

Scout:

Can and will tease his S/O, but he doesn’t do it very often and stops if they tell him to

He likes to use their shoulders as an armrest. He often does this when he wants to lean down to talk more closely.

Calls them Doll, ‘cause they’re small and cute like a doll UwU

He usually isn’t super protective, but in places like bars he usually keeps an arm over their shoulder to keep other guys away.

Soldier:

The other mercs find it hilarious that his S/O can usually see his eyes under his helmet because they have to look up at him

Calls his S/O all sorts of cute nicknames, like Honey and Sweetheart

Surprisingly, he lowers his voice a little when talking to them. He’s still loud, but at least he’s not yelling.

He respects his S/O’s independence, but he will loudly square up with anyone giving his S/O creepy looks

Pyro:

Pyro thinks their S/O is quite possibly the cutest person to ever exist. He likes to pat their head/ pet their hair.

Loves to smother his lil S/O in big hugs.

Pyro wouldn’t dream of making fun of their S/O’s height!

They don’t really worry about creepy guys, but they would never, EVER let their S/O anywhere near the battlefield

Demo:

Likes to call his S/O his “wee lass/lad/[insert whatever]” as a joke.

He usually has a hand on their shoulder. It’s a simple way he shows affection and it shows anyone around that this lil cutie is his.

He really likes bending down to greet his S/O with a quick peck on the cheek or lips

His S/O jokingly started calling him their “knight in shining armor” after he defended them from a creep in a bar.

Heavy:

Man is sometimes a little worried that he’ll hurt his S/O during most contact. Everything from intimacy to a quick hug can make him nervous. He’s mostly gotten over it though

Loves to pick up his S/O and gently hold them to his chest so their face is level with his. He’ll sometimes hold them like a baby just to mess with them.

Calls his S/O “котенок,” which means “kitten”. He would die if someone translated it to them

He knows he doesn’t need to protect his S/O, but his size is a natural deterrent for weirdos so that’s nice

Engie:

Really enjoys having someone around that’s shorter than him, it makes him feel a little better about his own height.

Doesn’t make fun of his S/O, as he understands their plight.

Grumbles and pouts a little if his S/O needs help grabbing something on a shelf and it turns out he can’t reach it either

He may not be very threatening because of his size, but if some dude is making his S/O uncomfortable he will not hesitate to tell them to back off

Medic:

He will bend his knees and lean forward when talking to his S/O to tease them

Picks his S/O up and spins them around after an experimental breakthrough, then gives them a big smooch

Gives them all sorts of nicknames in German that start with the word for little.

Probably the most protective merc, and will probably keep a hand on your back to keep you close if there’s any people around that he doesn’t like. He won’t hesitate to confront someone looking at his S/O weirdly.

Sniper:

It’s actually pretty funny seeing him and his S/O stand next to each other. Like, here’s this rugged, tall, lanky assassin and his cute lil partner

Likes it when his S/O asks for help grabbing something on a high shelf. Makes him feel needed

Started calling them his “lil Roo” as a joke, but it eventually stuck

Just puts an arm around your waist if he doesn’t like the look of someone nearby, which is pretty often in public. Because of the way he works, he’s had to train himself to be suspicious of everyone, always.

Spy:

He knows shorter people sometimes have trouble finding clothing that fits them, so he will have custom-made clothing made for them

Calls his S/O all sorts of names in French. They’re usually little animals like “chaton” or “lapin(e)”, but the animal depends on their personality

Please find and give him a nickname in French, he will melt

Tell anyone who tries to flirt with his S/O to fuck off in a very sophisticated manner

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #scout tf2 #soldier tf2 #pyro tf2 #demoman tf2 #heavy tf2 #engineer tf2 #medic tf2 #sniper tf2 #spy tf2 #tf2 headcanon #tf2 x reader

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corvidamned · 3 years

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@the-arkham-librarian | 💘 What are the ways my muse says ‘I love you’ without actually saying it?

...She’s always saying it.

• “--perhaps you can lend me your features to model for a portrait. I do paint.” • “--And if my company remains up to par, I would like to call on you--visit” • "I wish I knew where you've seen me before you chose to follow me the second you saw me again." • "I want you to know me but I'll have you know...I'm not for the faint of heart." • “Having dinner, a little drawing salon, and finding the perfect time to kiss you." • “Ordinary is out of the question, and plans are useless. But people… people can stay to grow beside each other. Stay with me…” • "I'd rather it'd be you to direct my attention back to the mission than if they ever found out I'd been consumed by..." • "Just how they look. When you gesture. Or while you're working." • "Hands to hold or ought to be held." • "I belong with you. I am not protected. Or looked after. I trust you to find your way back to your dreams. And, I belong with you…” • “I don't hide who I am around him... He knows where I come from, so he knows what I’ve lost, so he knows what I’ve done to prove myself worthy of even having a name.” • "Don't forget to pair ties with their matching pocket square or handkerchief. And some of the waist coats do have laces if you require more cinching." • “Because you were under the impression I would swallow you up as soon as you walked through the door. And while that is my favorite pastime, there is the pressing matter at hand--” • “We’ll grab breakfast. Then we’ll get a hotel over in D.C. where we’ll have a look at the Smithsonian. And maybe, possibly, introduce you to a new friend of mine.” • "Man of many talents…" • "Everywhere you've been is someplace I'd like to see." • “I adore you. I want to give you the strength to reclaim more of your life. I want you in mine.” • "Do you think I'll be late back?" • “I like you because we’re the same. We killed those who ‘stole our solitude without offering us true company.’ We hold this world accountable for the things that make monsters of us all. We want our life back and all the things that were promised and ripped away.” • "It's still mine to give. But it’s safer with you." • "So many people don't know the meaning of the word loyalty. It's all I've ever wanted. And I'm not your type of dandy but--I am your weapon, your family, your witness. It would bring me nothing but joy to watch you flourish. Get out more. Go on a date." • "I've time off, as scheduled. Did you? Did you want to come with?" • “--And there are people in my life that I’d miss being around.” • “I don’t know what I’d do with myself. I think my whole world would just stop.” • “You’re my lighthouse. What hope is there for me in these dark waters if your light goes out? And, how could I ever forgive myself if someone with a cause more destructive than remedying, more obsessive than educational, snuffed it out?” • “You know you’re my best friend, right? I don’t know if you’ve got anyone you can go to about the real things–” • “I just want you to know I’m going to be here for every breakdown or breakthrough, for the rest of your life and if your family should have me, long after you’re gone.” • "I can't show you the future. But I can show you what I see." • "You're sexy when you're negotiating." • “Do you mind if I shadow you on this call?” • “Try.” • “Grumpy.” • “You really made it. Will there be a baby shower? Am I invited?” • "Can I have you?" • “I have something else for you, darling. So you could come by, stay whenever you like.” • “I’m never alone in your world, my love. But I am, yours.” • “You’re so...cool.” • “If you’re worried about another off encounter, I could vet people, find out what they’re into, or even talk through your specific do’s and dont’s. I could book, or I can stay to watch.” • “You’re the boss.” • “I can’t lose you... I’d kill the world just to get you back.” • "She's so beautiful…Has she eaten?" • “Or at least know that I tried while I build my future with you." • “I’m your doll. “ • “Tu es l'amour de ma vie et je te garderai à l'esprit pour toujours.” • ”I'm giving you my secrets because we're the same... terrible victim.” • "I couldn't save you. And you couldn't have been the better man for me any earlier.” • "We can go again." • “I believe you.” • “I’m going to eat your tears. And swallow the rest of you.” • “Just turn me over.” • “As it should be... My wonderful idealist.” • "Five minutes intervals, darling. Stay with me." • “Come back…Breathe for me.” • “I can’t diagnose, I can only pull this beautiful body back together. But, you know who can.” • “I do think that’s all I’ve ever wanted, to know someone completely.” • “Oh my goodness--Can I at least buy you dinner first? We’re skipping steps. We’re doing this all out of order.” • “Yes, I think-- I'll take good care of you.” • "Oui. Just you and me. Airport's massive in Paris. It can get a little confusing, but there's shuttles straight to the hotel and taxis to all the tourist spots. We'll shop and fill our heads with art and forget all our little worries for a few days. Shall we pack?” • “Five bedrooms, three bathrooms, a parlor, a library, a basement and a wine cellar. A garden, overgrown and dried out with time. And a forest just beyond here. I'm thinking of buying it." • "I don't know if I'm anything like what you might've dreamed about. But in all my nights, you are…the one. The kind I could only describe when everyone else named their crushes." • She’s somewhere between drifting on the verge of napping, and doing something about her hand resting heavy on his thigh, when his hand, navigating her curls, long and peppered with strands of white, causes her to purr. • “There we are. I’ll always be able to find you. And I’ll always know how you feel.” • “You’re in my heart. Let your imagination stir a while. Might get the wrong idea if I have you as a stranger. I want to be in yours...” • "Are you hurt?" • "Well, you are adorable." • “I don’t want...you running off again. If it’s all too much to put into your own words?” • “You’re welcome to a shower, and a change of clothes. I’ll see what I can do about the coat. And you can take the bed. I’ll guard.” • “I looked for you.” • "Shall we play one of your games?" • “Everywhere. The mundane. The impossible. The deepest caves, entry only by water. The highest peaks, too cold for humans but not us. Great forests no one dared to build a cabin in. Realms of hell you have unfinished business in. My family's home on a parallel Earth, if such a thing is even possible." • “You’ll be safe with me. Are you hungry?" • “And you’ll never be alone again.” • “You’re strong.” • “I don't ever intend to misunderstand you."

#hc #relationships #being demi be like

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Off Limits, Chapter 5 (Bitney) - Veronica, Albatross

A/N: Hey guys! This is the companion story to “No Strings Attached.” Both ships are in both stories, but generally, “No Strings Attached” is Willaska-focused and this one is Bitney-focused. (Link to all chapters in order.)

Chapter Summary: Courtney obsesses about the previous night, and finally demands some real answers from Bianca. (With a brief cameo from Shea as the Lesbian Whisperer.)

Thanks as always to our lovely beta and Executive Vice President of That’s So Aussie™️, @opalescent-cheetah. (Yes, that’s a promotion.)

***

Courtney stirred, rolling into the scent of Bianca’s shampoo on the pillow, eyes fluttering open. She blinked, slightly confused, before realizing that she was in the bed alone. Sitting up on her elbows, she saw Bianca at her desk, hunched over a textbook with a highlighter, black-framed glasses on her face, reddish-brown hair pulled into a messy bun. Courtney smiled slightly; as beautiful as she found Bianca when she was dolled up and looking like a million bucks, there was always something sweet and comforting about seeing her like that.

“Hi,” Courtney said, biting her lip.

“Hey.” Bianca barely glanced her way, turning a page in her textbook.

“Did you sleep okay?”

“Yup.”

Courtney cleared her throat, suddenly self-conscious, becoming more and more aware of the fact that Bianca clearly didn’t want to talk. She thought, the night before, that they’d finally made some progress. That they were finally a small step closer to becoming...whatever they were supposed to.

But now, in the harsh light of day, she wasn’t so sure. After a few more moments of awkward silence, Courtney got the hint, swinging her legs off the side of the bed and gathering up her dress, shoes, and bag.

“Um...I’ll wash your T-shirt and get it back to you-”

“Thanks.”

Courtney let out a little sigh and exited, crossing through the living room, startled by Alaska’s voice saying, “Morning,” from the sofa.

“Lasky!” Courtney exclaimed, surprised. “Did you sleep here?”

“Yeah,” came the quiet, drawn-out reply. “I didn’t want to intrude on whatever...you guys had going on.”

Eyes widening in sympathy and guilt, Courtney rushed over to the couch to apologize.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry!” she cried, flinging herself onto the couch.

“It’s okay,” Alaska assured her with a remarkably sincere smile before inquiring, “How’d you sleep? It’s so hard to imagine Bianca being all cuddly.”

Feeling her cheeks beginning to grow warm, Courtney glanced away with a soft smile as she mentioned vaguely, “She was alright.” Then thinking better of it, added in a rushed, “Nothing happened, by the way.”

“Uh huh. That’s what she said,” Alaska said with an indulgent nod, then admitted slyly, “I didn’t really believe her, though.”

Cocking her head to the side, Courtney asked, “Do you believe me? Because nothing…” she forced herself to repeat, trying not to sound bitter, “nothing happened.”

It wasn’t just the “nothing happening” that made Courtney feel frustrated. It was also how easily she’d chickened out and let Bianca off the hook the second she’d realized that she wasn’t angry. She was so relieved that things were okay between them that she’d stopped pressing her for any real answers. And this morning, it seemed like her window for any kind of honesty had slammed shut. Bianca’s walls were up once again, and maybe they always would be.

“It honestly doesn’t matter what I believe,” Alaska informed her, tucking a stray bit of hair behind her ear. She plastered on a reassuring smile as she stressed, “As long as you’re good.”

“I’m good,” Courtney affirmed just a little too loudly and quickly. “I just feel so bad that you had to crash out here. You could have had your bed. Or my bed!”

“It’s fine,” Alaska laughed. “Besides, there’s never any way of telling what kind of creature Willam’s gonna bring home from the club.”

Giggling away at the light jab, Courtney agreed, “That’s true…” Still, her guilt persisted despite the attempt at deflection and she had to backtrack, “Anyway...I’m sorry.”

A hint of sadness tinged Alaska’s voice as she shook her head and admitted with a rueful grin, “It’s really fine, I promise. Sleeping on the couch is not the worst thing that happened to me last night. Not by a longshot.”

The statement caught Courtney’s attention immediately but before she even had the presence of mind to question her further, the sound of her and Willam’s bedroom door being opened pulled her focus away from Alaska. In an undeniable state of anger, Willam marched straight from the bedroom towards the bathroom, all but slamming that door shut to boot.

As if to confirm Courtney’s growing suspicions of a falling out, Alaska immediately brought a hand to her head and let her shoulders sink in defeat. Clearly something unpleasant had happened at the club.

Placing a consoling hand to her roommate’s shoulder, Courtney carefully inquired, “Are you okay?” When no response came, her voice dipped even softer as she asked, “Did something happen? Do you need to talk-”

Straightening her slumped shoulders and slapping on a shaky smile, Alaska attempted to ease her concerns. “No no, don’t worry. I’m just being dramatic.”

Though far from convinced, Courtney knew it’d be best not to press the conversation any further. Nodding her head, she gave an agreeable, “Okay,” and let the topic drop. Before she left Alaska alone however, she pulled her in for a tight, comforting squeeze and assured her, “I’m here if you change your mind.”

She received a grateful nod of the head, but other than that, Alaska gave no indication she would take Courtney up on the offer. Not that Courtney blamed her. She doubted if she could even bring herself to fully discuss the mess she had gotten herself into with Bianca. So leaving the situation as it was, Courtney slipped into her bedroom to curl up and try to forget what a mess she’d made of things. Which turned out to be far easier said than done.

***

Courtney couldn’t focus during rehearsal. All she could think about was Bianca, and their stupid, confusing game of hot and cold. Even though it seemed like they made up, her icy demeanor this morning made Courtney unsettled. And worse, every time Courtney closed her eyes, she saw that look on her face in the bathroom. That intense, angry glare.

She’d seen Bianca angry before, but it had never been directed at her, and remembering it made her feel as weak and insecure as it had last night.

And then on the other hand, there was Adore. Being with her had been such a relief. No games, no guessing, just a beautiful and charming girl who wanted her and wasn’t afraid to show it. And in her arms, at least in the beginning before Bianca ruined everything, Courtney felt so good. So why was that one look, those few angry words, enough to stop all of Courtney’s fun? Prevent her from enjoying a casual hook-up with a compliant, enthusiastic, sexy stranger.

She couldn’t help wondering if Bianca would have done the same thing had Adore been a man. Not that there’d been much likelihood of that happening. At least, not last night. But was Adore right? Was she just jealous? It certainly seemed like that was part of the story.

So, she stumbled through ‘Wilkommen,’ mind spinning, and then completely blanked on the choreography during ‘Don’t Tell Mama.’

During the break, she slumped against the wall, sighing, trying her best to breathe deeply and get her shit together, when a hand on her shoulder made her look up.

It was Shea, a senior who was playing the Emcee, who had clearly noticed her fuck-ups, because she had a concerned look on her face as she asked, “Rough day, huh?”

“Um, yeah,” Courtney admitted. “Soz.”

“Don’t apologize. We all have our shit. Wanna talk about it?” Shea asked.

“Well...it’s complicated. I’m kind of having an issue with this...girl I like,” Courtney said, surprised at how easily the words rolled off her tongue.

“My specialty,” Shea told her, grinning wryly. “Go on…”

Courtney bit her lip. It could be good to unburden herself. It had certainly felt good to confess her feelings to Adore last night. So she took a deep breath, the whole story tumbling out quickly.

“She’s my roommate. And like, things have always been a bit...confusing. She flirts with me constantly, but it’s always in a way where it seems like she’s half kidding. And for awhile, that was fun, but lately it’s like she’s been pulling away, which is just-” Courtney sighed, trying to hold back tears as she continued. “She keeps finding ways to basically tell me that she doesn’t want anything more than friendship. So, fine, I got the hint. But then yesterday...”

Courtney trailed off. Somehow recounting the story made her even more unsure. Was she really seeing any of this clearly?

“Yeah?” Shea prodded.

“Well...we were at Sierra’s, and I met this girl, and I really liked her, and it was just...easy, you know?”

“An easy girl at Sierra’s? Sounds like a perfect night to me,” Shea said with a chuckle.

“Yeah, well, it would have been. But then Bianca like, interrupted us, because according to her, she was concerned that I was too drunk. I don’t know, she really got into my head, and we fought, and then I couldn’t enjoy it anymore. So I ended up leaving the club and we made up. I think? I fell asleep in her bed, and it was...I don’t know, it felt almost like we’d had some kind of a breakthrough. But now today she’s being weird again. I don’t know what to do.”

“Have you...okay, keep in mind that this might be a radical suggestion,” Shea said, “But have you considered talking to her? Maybe telling her how you feel?”

“I’ve tried!” Courtney exclaimed. “I’ve tried so many times. Or...I don’t know, it feels like I’ve tried.”

“Have you tried...while you’re wearing that?” Shea asked, eyes looking down pointedly at Courtney’s rehearsal clothes, a skimpy spaghetti-strap tank top and pair of tiny shorts. When she met Courtney’s eyes again, there was a wicked smirk on her face.

Courtney laughed, some of the tension finally leaving her shoulders.

“I’m not kidding,” Shea insisted.

“I appreciate your support,” Courtney giggled.

“Look. Go home, don’t change-”

At that, Courtney laughed again.

“And tell her how you fuckin’ feel,” Shea finished. “Open the door, invite her in...so to speak. If nothing else, then at least you’ll know that you were honest.”

“Well...you’re not actually the first one to give me that advice.” Courtney recalled Adore last night, telling her practically the same thing.

“There you go. Time to listen. Also...try to relax and forget about this shit while you’re here.” Shea slung an arm around her shoulder, continuing bluntly, “Or you’re gonna keep forgetting the choreo and Jonathan’s gonna replace your ass.”

Later, as Courtney walked home, she found herself getting more and more convinced that this was all just a giant misunderstanding. There had been so many signs. So many moments when Courtney was certain that Bianca liked her. And she became more and more determined to finally crack through Bianca’s walls.

How to do it was another question entirely. But she supposed that listening to Shea and keeping the short shorts on wouldn’t hurt.

***

Bianca knew that she’d brought this situation upon herself. She knew from the beginning, really, that she was in dangerous territory. But she’d blithely ignored the signs, the red flags, everything telling her that she needed to reign it in--and now, of course, everything was a mess.

Part of her was a bit resentful. Why should she have to deprive herself of some healthy fun? It wasn’t her fault that her straight (okay, bicurious, if she was honest) roommate found her so goddamn irresistible. She hadn’t done anything wrong--just some playful flirting, which she’d been clear from the beginning wasn’t meant to be taken seriously. She’d actually gone out of her way to overstate the boundaries.

But the smarter part...the more realistic part, knew that she was slightly full of shit. Knew that she’d done nothing, really, to stop the runaway train. And worse, that she’d allowed the situation at Sierra’s to get the better of her; her reaction to Courtney and Adore was entirely inappropriate and totally unjustified. She’d managed to squirm out of the conversation last night, probably due mostly to Courtney’s convenient intoxication. And this morning, too, managed to avoid any direct, uncomfortable questions. But Courtney wasn’t dumb, or a pushover, and she knew those questions would come sooner or later.

Bianca hated uncertainty. And right now, everything felt uncertain, which was both aggravating and deeply unsettling. The only good thing today had going for it was that by noon, everyone had left, and she had the place to herself.

Taking a long, relaxing bath when you share a bathroom with 3 other girls is a rare luxury. Unfortunately, in spite of the privacy and severely depleting her Lush supply, Bianca felt no better after her extended soak. She tried another tactic as the tub drained: vigorous exfoliation in the shower, scrubbing her body from head to toe until her skin felt raw. Unsurprisingly, that didn’t help either. Whatever was bothering her was clearly more than skin deep.

She emerged from the steamy bathroom still anxious, still defeated. And so, finally resigned, she slunk back to her bedroom and pulled out a book that her Global Communications professor had recommended, settling onto her bed and hoping to at least get something productive done today.

The soft knock on her door a little while later made her stomach drop. Shit.

“Come in,” she said, resigned to the fact that this was happening, folding down the page she was on and sliding her book onto the dresser.

Courtney pushed open the door, hesitating slightly. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, like she’d been hurrying in the chilly autumn air, and she was dressed in distractingly skimpy rehearsal clothes.

“Are you busy? I wanted to talk.”

“Nope.” Bianca tried to sound nonchalant, crossing her legs and tilting her head innocently. “What’s on your mind, dollface?”

Courtney strode forward and sat on the bed.

“Last night.”

“Yes?”

“Well. You said that you were worried that I’d drank too much. Right?”

“Yeah, I thought that you were-”

“But then why were you so mad?” Courtney’s direct, unwavering gaze made Bianca slightly uncomfortable.

“Well…”

“Because you weren’t acting concerned. You weren’t acting like you were worried about a friend’s safety. You were acting angry.” Courtney didn’t wait for her to respond before adding pointedly. “Some might even say jealous.”

She folded her arms, waiting for Bianca’s answer.

Bianca said nothing, instead choosing to stare at her with an expression just shy of a glare. In a way, she’d been prepared for this line of questioning. After all, she’d been there. She knew what happened. But she wasn’t prepared for the questions to come this fast, be this direct.

This was a whole new side of Courtney. No longer the soft, agreeable little doll that she’d become accustomed to. The girl staring at her was unapologetic, prepared to take no shit. It made Bianca panic; and when Bianca panicked-

“We're done with this,” Bianca declared stonily, reaching for her book.

Courtney stopped her, actually jumped up and snatched the book out of her reach.

“No, we're not!”

“Courtney,” Bianca said warningly. She expected that and a fierce glare to be enough for Courtney to back off, yet to her mild surprise Courtney merely shook her head.

“We need to talk about this. I deserve an answer.”

“There's nothing to fucking talk about!” Bianca shouted in spite of trying to keep her voice steady and emotionless. “I already told you why and if you don't want to believe me, that’s on you. Now give me my book.”

She held her hand out expectantly, determined not to give up without a fight.

Exasperated, Courtney tossed the book aside and cried out, “Why do you keep pretending that it didn't happen?”

“What didn't happen?” came Bianca’s mocking reply.

“That you got jealous!” Courtney snapped back, then paused, taking a breath before admitting, “And I get it, okay? I was too, after I saw you flirting with that ranga.”

“What’s a ranga? Is that so Aussie?” Bianca asked with a devious grin.

“Don’t try to be cute. The redhead you were talking to. At the tables?”

Bianca frowned, trying to remember, then realized who Courtney meant. “Oh…her...”

“Yeah, her.”

“That was a two-minute conversation,” Bianca said defensively.

“Well...” Courtney began, chewing on her lip, fingers nervously fidgeting as she continued, “That’s the point. I saw that and it made me feel...I don’t know, jealous and hurt, even though I knew that wasn’t really justified, or fair to you. You’re allowed to flirt with whoever you want, right?”

A tightness began to creep into Bianca’s throat. Was Courtney saying what it sounded like she was saying?

“But, then Adore started paying attention to me and suddenly I felt okay again,” she continued, and inexplicable anger took over, crushing the hope that had begun to bloom in Bianca’s chest.

“Great, good for you,” Bianca growled. “Why don’t you call her, then?”

“I don’t want to call her! I want you to admit that you saw me leave with her and you followed. You weren’t worried about my safety, you wanted to stop us from doing anything. Why can't you just admit that?” she asked desperately. Her eyes were pleading now and her voice started to crack.

And Bianca, of course, had no answer. She looked away, swallowing, then back at Courtney, still searching for something to say. But Courtney beat her to the punch once again.

“I think...maybe you like me,” she spoke softly. “Don’t you?”

When no answer came, once again, she tossed the book down and reached out, a hand on Bianca’s forearm.

“Well, I like you. If I didn’t like you, I’d have stayed in the club with Adore. That would have been the easiest thing. But I didn’t, because I care about you. And I think you know that...so why can’t we even talk about it like fucking adults?”

It wasn’t enough, was all Bianca could think. Courtney’s possibly temporary interest was not a reason to potentially fuck up a friendship, not to mention make their living situation extremely precarious.

Sneering, yet still not moving away, Bianca told her, “Nothing about this would be a good idea.”

“Why not?” Courtney couldn’t help saying, eyes rolling.

“Uh, about a million reasons,” Bianca said. “We’re roommates, we’re friends, and if things go south--scratch that, when things go south, it’ll be a fucking mess.”

“Could be worth it,” Courtney said, a smile pulling at her lips. “And I mean, I have heaps of other friends, so…”

Thoroughly annoyed by Courtney’s nonchalance, Bianca then went for a low blow by reminding her, “Okay, how about the fact that you've never been with a woman before?”

“So what?”

“So, I don’t even know if you’re gay. Or what you are. Maybe you’re just...confused.”

“Yeah, maybe!” Courtney burst out. “Maybe I don’t know what I am either. But labels aren’t really my priority right now. All I care about, all that matters, is that I like you.”

“What is the point of this conversation, anyway? Do you really think you can debate me into fucking you?” Bianca asked.

Courtney’s smile turned bittersweet, a sigh leaving her. She scooted closer to Bianca, their knees now touching, speaking gently and carefully.

“No, you’re right. I just wanted to tell you that I can’t stop thinking about you. And I don’t think it’s just some fleeting curiosity. I like everything about you...how smart you are, how funny, how even when you're teasing or mad at me like last night, I still wanna be close to you. I always have. You’re just so...so beautiful,” she finished, eyes soft and misty. No longer fighting, or trying to prove a point. No longer indignant or demanding an answer. Just looking at Bianca in that irresistible way, like she’d hung the moon. “And I think...it could be really great, if we gave it a shot.”

Bianca’s mind raced. How did this conversation go so off the rails, so quickly? What was she supposed to say to that?

“Maybe I’m wrong, though,” Courtney conceded lightly. “Maybe you don’t feel the same way. Maybe it’s all in my head.”

“Courtney-”

“If you tell me I’m wrong, I’ll leave. I won’t bother you about this again. So. Tell me I’m wrong.”

Courtney looked at her, challenging but still somehow soft and vulnerable. This was Bianca’s out. This was a gift, and they both knew it. And the smart thing to do would have been to take that gift and just tell her that she was wrong. Sorry for leading you on, dollface. Hope we can still be friends.

Instead, Bianca was an idiot.

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because. You’re not wrong, but-”

The smile that spread across Courtney’s face, lighting up her eyes, was yet another reminder to Bianca of how thoroughly she’d fucked this up.

“But listen,” she continued, “I told myself a long time ago that I would not, under any circumstances, be the kind of asshole who tried to seduce straight girls.”

“I’m not-”

“I know, I know, you don’t know what you are. But that’s the point, Court. I don’t want to be like, taking advantage of the fact that you’re confused right now. Okay? I just…” Bianca sighed. “God, I really should have just let you fuck that green-haired slut, huh?”

Courtney chuckled at that.

“I just...I made a promise to myself. That no matter what, I wasn’t gonna lay a hand on you.”

“Hmm.” Courtney made a small noise, backing off a little bit. “Okay.”

It was too easy, and her eyes still had that sparkle. So Bianca’s heart was still in her throat.

“I understand what you’re saying, B. And I would never want to make you feel like you have to break a personal promise.”

Bianca began to get the distinct impression that she was being mocked, in spite of the sweet and empathetic way that Courtney was speaking--or maybe because of it.

“But, if you’ll hear it...I do have a small counterpoint,” Courtney added.

“Fine.”

“Are you sure?” Courtney asked. “I don’t want to nag you. So if your mind is made up, I-”

“Just tell me your fuckin’ counterpoint.”

“Okay.” Courtney inched forward, “Here it is.”

Bianca’s eyes shifted to her knee, where Courtney’s hand had settled. Her breathing remained shallow, body unmoving. When she looked back into Courtney’s glittering green eyes, felt the soft hand slide up her thigh, her breath hitched.

“Do you want me to stop?” Courtney whispered.

Her pulse now racing, Bianca shook her head slightly, watching Courtney’s beautiful face as her eyes went soft. She leaned closer, lips hovering over Bianca’s, so close that Bianca swore she could taste her. Her free hand tangled into Bianca’s hair, fingers running through it as she cupped her cheek.

When their mouths were mere millimeters apart, Bianca’s eyes finally fell closed, lips parting in anticipation, hands moving to Courtney’s waist. Courtney brushed their lips together, so soft Bianca thought she may have imagined it.

Courtney had been dreaming of this for so long; it was hard for her to believe that it was really happening. She took her time, thumbs stroking Bianca’s cheeks, nose nuzzling into her gently before finally pressing their lips together. Her mouth was pillowy soft and warm, and Courtney couldn’t help smiling against her as she deepened the kiss, tongue slipping inside her mouth to luxuriate in the taste of her.

“Court, wait...are you really sure this is what you want?” Bianca asked, pulling back just a little to search her eyes.

Still panting, Courtney took a moment to compose herself, enough to look into Bianca’s eyes and say, “Dead sure.”

“Ugh, that’s so Aussie,” Bianca stated, and Courtney laughed, pulling her close again.

“Shut up,” she whispered, going in for another soft kiss.

And then, like a dam bursting open, she lunged forward, wrapping her arms around Bianca’s shoulders and climbing into her lap. A low moan left Bianca’s lips as she rolled her hips forward, which emboldened Courtney to continue, rocking against her. Her lips trailed down Bianca’s jaw to her neck, finding the tenderest spot to graze with her teeth before sucking gently.

“Shit,” Bianca murmured, fingers digging into Courtney’s waist.

Why on earth had she been fighting this?

She supposed that from the beginning, the fact that Courtney was straight had addled her mind. Made her off-limits in a way that allowed Bianca to pretend that she was keeping her distance. And the fact that this ‘straight’ girl seemed so into her? That made it better--an exercise in self-control, which Bianca deluded herself into thinking that she was winning. At least until this weekend.

Now though, with Courtney finally in her arms, enthusiastically devouring her neck, pulling at the buttons of her top, she finally allowed herself to relax.

“You’re really jumping into this lesbian thing with both feet, huh?” Bianca asked breathlessly.

“Is there any other way to do it?” Courtney murmured, licking up her throat, then pushing Bianca’s top open and letting out a gratified sigh.

The way she drank Bianca in with hungry, greedy eyes made hairs stand up on the back of her neck. And then she reached forward, hands sliding up Bianca’s torso, cupping her tits.

“God, you’re so sexy,” Courtney breathed, running the back of her fingers over Bianca’s achingly hard nipples.

“Shit,” Bianca groaned again, arching up. The frantic pulsing between her legs begged her to take back control—to fling Courtney onto her back and make her forget her own name. But part of her was also thrilled by how self-assured Courtney was, how quickly she’d been able to work Bianca up to the point of pain.

“Do you like that, B?” Courtney asked softly. Her body weight pressed down as fingers continued to casually toy with her nipples.

Bianca looked up at her, bleary-eyed with lust, and admitted, “I’ve never been so happy to be wrong in my life.”

Courtney giggled adorably, laying a light kiss against Bianca’s temple.

“Hold that thought,” she then said, jumping up from the bed.

Bianca lifted herself onto her elbows and blinked at her, a bit dazed, as she rifled through her dresser.

“What...what the hell are you looking for?”

“Just something to...aha!” Courtney pulled out a pair of black tights and ran to the door, tying them around the handle.

“We haven’t really established that code,” Bianca said.

“She’s smart. She’ll figure it out.” Courtney shut the door firmly, turning back to Bianca with a wicked grin. She whipped off her shirt (and bra) in one fluid motion, tossing them to the floor, then took her sweet time sauntering back to the bed, asking, “Where were we?”

Bianca cleared her throat, trying to tear her eyes from her perfect little tits before answering hoarsely, “You were teasing the shit out of me.”

“Oh yeah,” Courtney said brightly, climbing back on the bed and straddling her quickly. “Thanks...”

#rpdr fanfiction #bitney #bianca del rio #courtney act #willam belli #alaska thunderfuck #willaska #shea coulee #college au #lesbian au #friends to lovers #fluff #almost smut #off limits #just friends #veronica #albatross

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freudensteins-monster · 4 years

Text

I Need a Hero!

Following on from Ooh! Barracuda!

Despite what Darcy had promised, their third date had ended with them still fully clothed, kissing goodbye on the street outside the restaurant they were supposed to be dining at, all because some asshat let mutated wannabe velociraptors escape from a lab in Nova Scotia.

And though they both claimed to want a do-over, culminating in the stereotypical post-third date activities, that first interrupted date was the start of a holding pattern.

They made reservations at another nice restaurant and Bucky walked Darcy to her room at the tower. They made out against the door – the inside of the door, as the hallway had hears, and high resolution cameras – but then Bucky cut it short claiming he had an early training session at the upstate facility in the morning.

Okay, thought Darcy. Except she learnt later on that he had volunteered for it the morning of their date.

The following weekend JARVIS found them an old school dance hall and the pair got dressed up in their 1940’s finest and went out dancing. Bucky walked her to her door again, and again cut their goodbye kiss short claiming tiredness because of the training upstate, and the travel, and the dancing.

Fine. Except Steve had mentioned two days later that Bucky had been putting extra sessions in at the tower gym – including the night of their dance hall date.

Darcy invited him around for a home cooked meal and suggested they watch something from Bucky’s “must see movies of the last 100 years” list. She instigated a little Netflix and Chill action, only for Bucky to put the brakes on claiming he wanted to see how the movie ended.

Really? It’s not like they couldn’t have paused the damn thing, Darcy would grumble to Jane later.

For their next date she pulled out the big guns: a slinky, sleeveless, little black dress that showed even more skin than the blue-grey number that had prompted Bucky to ask her out. When she opened the door Bucky’s knees almost buckled at the sight of her (or the girls) and Darcy thought she was on to a winner. She was flirty and affectionate on the way down to the lobby, and Bucky seemed to be reciprocating, but of course, their luck being what it was, the second he opened the car door for her his phone rang with an emergency Assemble.

Fair enough. He couldn’t fake an Assemble, but he didn’t have to look so damn relieved about it.

The mission took three days and when Bucky returned Darcy was caught in the middle of Jane’s latest breakthrough, so it ended up being a full week after their last failed date before they could reschedule. This also gave Darcy plenty of time to plan a course of action to address the elephant in the room, which basically boiled down to “talk about it like mature adults in an adult relationship”.

“This suuuucks,” Darcy groaned to her empty apartment as she waited for Bucky to knock on her door. Thankfully she didn’t have to wait too long; a minute later and she would have chickened out.

“Hey doll,” he greeted her with a smile and a kiss on the cheek. “I missed you like crazy this week.”

“Yeah, well, it’s been a crazy week,” she joked lamely, as Bucky made himself comfortable on her couch.

“Did you have anything in particular in mind tonight? I was thinking we could try that Caribbean ramen place Tony was going on about and maybe start one of those Star Wars trilogies everyone seems to love. Sam wants to watch them at the next team movie night, but you know he and Clint will just talk over them and it’ll just ruin my first viewing.”

“Speaking of firsts,” Darcy interjected, grasping at any excuse to get the crappy portion of their evening over with. “Do you not want to have sex with me?” Bucky balked and couldn’t bring himself to look her in the eyes. Darcy cursed herself for having the subtlety of Thor’s hammer, but sat as close to him as she dared and powered on. “Considering how you were looking at me the day you asked me out, I’m going to go out on a limb and say you find me attractive, but you keep pulling away from me when things get hot and heavy, and I know you’ve been making up excuses so you can cut out early. So… what is it? Why are you embarrassed to tell me no? Is it a religious thing – do you not want to have sex before marriage? A medical thing? Do you not want to have sex at all, or just not right now? Whatever it is, I just need you talk to me about it and tell me where you’re head’s at so I can adjust my expectations accordingly, okay? Because right now I feel like an asshole for trying to move us in a direction that you’re clearly not comfortable with.”

It took Bucky a minute to reply, his mouth opening and closing as he tried and failed to find the right words, but eventually he turned those beautiful stormy eyes of his in her direction and took one of her hands in his.

“First off, of course I find you attractive. When it comes to brains and beauty I think you leave Hedy Lamarr in the dust,” he assured her with a smirk. “And don’t go twistin’ yourself up thinkin’ I only want you when you’re wearing one of those maneater ensembles of yours. Done up and dressed down, soft and sexy; I like the whole package, sweetheart.” Darcy couldn’t help but blush. “And I do want to have sex with you…”

“But…”

Bucky sighed and squeezed her hand just a little bit tighter. “But… Nobody but doctors have seen me without my shirt on since I came back to myself, and I can’t stop worrying about what you’ll think.”

“About?”

“All this,” he replied with vague gesture.

“Your arm?”

“You gotta remember that I got the knock off version of the serum; I ain’t like Steve,” he added, anxiously rubbing his shoulder. “I might heal fast but my scars don’t fade like his do. At least, the ones Hydra gave me didn’t. It’s not pretty, and I just don’t want to see you pretending like they don’t upset you.”

“Of course they upset me, Bucky. But only because I wanna tase every Hydra goon in the balls for what they did to you. Seeing your scars isn’t going to make me want you less. Solid muscle and solid metal, cocky and self-conscious; I like the whole package, Sergeant Barnes,” she teased.

“Oh, yeah?” he smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Ugh, dude. Don’t make me fall on my sword.”

“Huh?”

“JARVIS, can you play my favourite fanvid?” she asked the ceiling with a sigh.

“Of course, Miss Lewis.”

“What are we watching?”

“Just… watch,” Darcy cringed as she shushed him. “And try not to hate me or, like, run screaming from the room in search of a restraining order.”

🎶 Where have all the good men gone, and where are all the gods 🎶

Bucky knew this song. He heard it every now and then when he was passing by Jane’s lab on the way to or from Tony’s, but it would always cut out when he got close. He’d asked Darcy about it once and she claimed it was her ringtone. Now that he thought back on it she had definitely been lying but he’d been too distracted by her bashful smile to notice it. He turned his attention to the television fixed to Darcy’s living room wall and as the song continued dozens of hastily edited together video clips were thrown up on the screen. Video clips of him. There were paparazzo footage of him and some of the team leaving a bar in DC after they’d gone out for drinks on Sam’s birthday, some video of him lifting weights in the gym for that Avengers Tower behind-the-scenes thing that Pepper had organized, though it was slightly pixelated as the editor tried to zoom in on his arms. There was even news footage from his missions with the Avengers, and a few of his missions against them.

“Is that… is that the Winter Soldier in Germany?”

“Um… yes?” Darcy winced.

“People like that – you like that?” he asked incredulously.

“I know it’s awful of me, and you have every right to hate me for making light of something that is obviously so awful, but seriously dude, you were built like a friggin tank! I don’t know what you were eating when you were hiding out in Romania, but damn!”

After a few more minutes of crippling awkwardness Darcy finally asked JARVIS to cut the feed.

“So…

“So… I hear this song playing in your lab all the time. Just how often have you watched this thing?”

“I plead the fifth,” Darcy blushed.

“JARVIS, how many times has Darcy watched this video?”

“Don’t answer that!”

“This is Miss Lewis’s 57th viewing of this particular Youtube video.”

Bucky looked rather pleased with himself. “Fifty-seven…”

“Okay, listen, I may have left it playing on loop one afternoon while I cleaned my apartment. I have not sat here and watched it fifty-seven times.”

“I can remember at least four separate instances where I’ve walked past your lab and interrupted this song.”

“So? That’s just four times.”

“Miss Lewis also asks me to loop her into gym’s security footage whenever you and one of your teammates are sparring.”

“JARVIS? What the hell?” Darcy screeched as Bucky doubled over with laughter.

“I apologise, Miss Lewis. I just thought Sergeant Barnes would appreciate having all the evidence at his disposal.”

“Go away, JARVIS.” Darcy sighed and tried not to combust from blushing as Bucky chuckled at her embarrassment. “Okay, fine. As you can see from Exhibits A through to like friggin J: I find you stupidly attractive. So, you don’t have to worry about me being upset about your scars from an aesthetic point of view, because if it’s not painfully obviously, I want to see you naked. Real bad.”

Then it was Bucky’s turn to blush. “Can I kiss you, doll?”

“Please,” she begged with relieved smile. “Anything to stop me from embarrassing myself further.”

They started tentatively at first, but soon things started moving in a horizontal direction, with hands toying at the hems of shirts and brushing over zippers, and Bucky pulled back. Darcy did her damndest not to let her disappointment show and waited patiently for Bucky to tell her how he was feeling.

“Do you think we could, uh, relocate?” he asked, surprising her as he tilted his head towards her bedroom door. “I don’t know if I’ll want to… I mean, we can try…” he stammered.

“Whatever you’re okay with. Whatever you want,” Darcy promised.

Bucky swooped in for another kiss before lifting Darcy up off the couch in one smooth movement, smiling like an idiot as she giggled in his arms.

“JARVIS, play us out.”

🎶 Racing on the thunder and rising with the heat / It's gonna take a superman to sweep me off my feet / I need a hero! 🎶

#i need a hero #wintershock #mutual objectification #darcy lewis x bucky barnes #darcy lewis #bucky barnes #freudensteins-fics

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holylulusworld · 5 years

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Partner from hell – Part 11

Summary: After quitting her job as a profiler (FBI) the reader starts working for a special unit of the NYC police department. As all cops refuse to work with the enemy she ends up being the new partner of Dean Winchester. The man who hates partners.

Pairing: Cop!Dean x Reader, Bobby Singer, OMC Miller, OFC’s

Warnings: angst, crime, murder, investigations, fun, a hint of fluff, comforting, descriptions of murder (victims), blood, mentions of incest (victims)

Part 2 of case 2

Partner from hell Masterlist

“You were right, smart pants.”

“I was?”

Glancing at the file in Dean’s hands you cock a brow. He’s smirking, sitting onto your desk, leaning close to your ear.

“The daughter was the mother of the baby but here comes the sick part. The father is also the grandfather.” Dean is scrunching up his nose in disgust. “Sick bastard abused his daughter.”

“Fuck! I remember where I saw this picture! It was a crime-scene photo. During my profiling training in Quantico, we tried to solve old cases, unsolved cases. There was a family, murdered in 1987. The mother was holding a doll instead of the baby but everything else was correct.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to remember more details.

“Anything else you can remember?” Dean gets his phone out, sending Charlie a message to let her dig out all murder cases of 1987 if needed.

“The whole family got slaughtered except for the baby; the little girl was gone without a trace. We assumed the killed took the baby after he or she killed the family. The only difference the crime scene looked like it was a scene straight out of a slasher movie. Blood all over the walls, the clothes where blood-soaked, and the cuts were not precise as the ones our killer made.”

“Figures. Our victims were drugged, unconscious and didn’t fight back. I guess the other family fought for their lives.” Dean is scratching his chin, waiting for more information coming to your mind.

“The name of the family was Stark, I think. Mother, father, son, and daughter got slaughtered. The baby was missing, tho. According to the files, the police never found her. Everyone believed she’s dead too.” Opening your browser, you access a hidden FTP server.

“Son of a bitch! You’ve got a nice secret server?” Dean whispers and you chuckle lightly. “Bad girl.”

“Hmm…I do not trust anyone. Back then everyone tried to solve the case, but no one wanted to follow my idea.” You shrug opened the folder with old cases.

“You’ve got the whole file? Smart pants, I love you.” Dean gets behind your chair, leaning closer to get a better look at the file.

“I always uploaded interesting cases to my secret server. I didn’t share my ideas until I had a breakthrough, Dean. I always assumed something was off with this case and that the baby is still alive.” You explain opening the crime-scene photos.

“Shit, you’re right. Same modus operandi but that killer was a slaughter, not a surgeon as our perpetrator. See the wounds at the father’s hands? He fought with all his strength against his attacker, just like the mother. I guess she wanted to save her children.”

Dean’s eyes drift toward a picture of a photo frame and he freezes. “Look at this. Same pattern. Mommy is holding the baby but only the daughter is looking lovingly at the little girl in her mother’s arms. God, don’t tell me Stark was abusing his daughter too.” Dean curses starting to pace around your desk.

“We can’t know that for sure, Dean. The cases are similar in a few points, but our killer can’t be the same as the one killing the Starks. I guess it’s someone close to the family Stark, or someone knowing about this case…” Trailing of you see Miller waving at you, showing you the files, you ordered.

“More files, smart pants?” Dean groans hating research with every fiber of his body. “Yay…research…”

“Dude, we need to check for possible victims. I believe someone knew about the abuse in this family. Maybe someone reported it. I got all anonymous reports about sexual abuse of the last two years.”

“Research…I hate research.”

“Dean. We need to find a trace who knew about the abuse and that Louise was the mother of her brother. The cases are too similar for someone not knowing about the abuse.” Your fingers start shaking at the thought both girls got abused by their fathers.

“You okay, Sweetheart?” Dean asks sitting onto your desk once again. His hand covers yours, squeezing it tightly. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I loved my dad; he was a good man. I could never imagine the betrayal Louise must’ve felt when he…” Sighing you look at another picture. “The families, the modus operandi. Everything matches Dean. We need to analyze Janet’s blood and compare it with her missing sister’s hair examples.”

“You think the samples are still usable?” Dean’s eyes drift toward the pictures once again, shuddering at the sight of the dead baby in Louise’s moms’ arms. “Why did our perpetrator kill the baby too? Doesn’t make sense if he wants to copy this old case, Y/N.”

Glancing at the pictures in Dean’s hand you nod, not knowing the answer yet. There’s something about this case letting cold shivers run down your spine.

“I know this is a big difference. Let me play this in my head. The baby, the missing girl should be thirty-two now. What if…” You say playing with your pen, closing your eyes to walk through the crimes-scene in your mind.

“You think the baby could be the killer - right, smart pants?”

“I don’t know yet. But who else should be interested to arrange a crime scene like that? The cops investigating the case are all dead by now, just like the forensics. No one involved in this case is still alive.”

“We should head back home, eat a slice of pizza and have a beer. We can grab the files and do my beloved research while eating hot pizza.” Dean suggests while his stomach rumbles.

“I guess my partner from hell is hungry…” Slapping Dean’s thigh you chuckle, giving him a wink. “Let’s roll then…”

----

“I never thought there are so many anonymous reports about sexual abuse. There are so many sick guys out there, makes me want to vomit. A father should protect his child, not hurt…”

“I know, Dean. I worked for the special victim’s unit for a while.”

Dean’s eyes meet yours as you give him a cracked smile. “Must’ve been tough.”

“There are bad people or rather sick people out there, Dean. Not everyone is as nice as your brother, Bobby and you. Bad things happen to innocent people, that’s the reason I’m doing this job, the reason I won’t give up.”

Dean’s eyes lit up watching you leaning your head against his shoulder, as you pat his thigh. He’s covering your hand with his larger one, squeezing it tightly.

“You’re not alone, you’ve got your partner from hell. We will find this monster and arrest him just like the last sick bastard, Y/N. Did I ever apologize for being an ass?” Dean whispers.

“Nah, you are a partner from hell. This kind of guys never apologize with words but with actions. You saved me and gave me a home, a new partner and delicious pizza, Dean.”

“I knew you are only into my pizza. Sexy pizza destroyer…” Dean husks and you slap his hand away, glaring at your tall partner.

“Don’t get cocky Winchester!” Pointing toward his cock you shake your head. “Forget it. I’m not one of your flings, Detective.”

“One day you will fall for my charm. Hard and fast, Sweetheart.” Leaning closer Dean plants, a soft kiss to your hair. “Till then we can be friends, Y/N. How about some pie? I love me some pie.”

“Give me some pie, another beer and a pile of files and I might rethink the ‘no sex with my partner’ rule.” Chuckling you watch Dean rushing toward the kitchen to get more beer and his pie.

“I might let you see my cute naked ass in three or four years.” You yell making Dean stopping in his tracks, cursing.

“Not fair, smart pants…not fair…”

“Hmm…I like seeing you squirm partner. Now get me this pie and we can talk about more research.”

“You’re lucky I like you, partner,” Dean mutters.

“Still not a chance, Dean…”

“I wouldn’t bet on that…”

SPN Forever Tags

@donnaintx, @screechingartisancashbailiff, @fallen-wolf22, @sister-winchesters99, @mogaruke, @the-is13, @helloitsmeamie203, @strayrosesbloom, @thewinchesterco, @hobby27, @kittycatlover18, @gh0stgurl, @marvelfansworld , @sandlee44, @hawaiianohana31, @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt, @katpatrova17, @notyourtypicalrose , @heyitscam99, @onethingthatkeepsmealive, @natura1phenomenon, @flamencodiva, @echoesofpassion, @cocklesbelli, @voltage-my2dlove, @fandom-princess-forevermore, @thenamelesschibi, @lauravic, @fandomsrourlives, @wittysunflower, @drakelover78, @lemondropirwin, @lonewolf471, @wronglanemendes, @spnhollis, @void-imaginations, @jay-and-dean, @shatteredabby, @juniorhuntersam, @helpmeluci, @neii3n, @goodgodimaweirdperson, @alltimesamantha, @chonisberonica, @supernaturalonice @stuckys-whore, @shadowkat-83, @officialmarvelwhore, @certaindeanwinchesterforcastiel, @wecantgiggleitsafandom, @meganywinchester, @shikshinkwon, @miraclesoflove, @yolobloggers, @guardian-tn, @lu-sullivan, @maniacproffesor, @hollymac79, @straycuties9, @kayla-2000, @ilovefanfic86, @gracefultrenchcoat494, @babygirls-fav, @sadn0va, @spnwoman @amiquette, @linki-locks11, @geekofmanyforms, @eggingamazinglove, @jessica-marsh09, @spnficgirl, @shut-themoonscone, @thequeenreaders, @countrygal17a, @kteelou, @soryuwifeyxx, @kricketc28, @atomicfandombomb, @defenderrosetyler , @differentstudentrunaway-e70bf763

If your name is crossed out Tumblr won’t let me tag you for some reason. Sorry.

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags

@spnfamily-j2, @supernatural-bellawinchester, @butifulsoul125, @lyinginthegingerlocks, @deans-baby-momma, @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester, @20gayneen, @janicho88, @thefaithfulwriter, @dreaminemz, @negans-lucille-tblr , @sadwaywardkid, @akshi8278, @hhiggs, @midnightsilver16830, @mrspeacem1nusone, @ria132love, @caligraphee, @the-witch-in-silence, @multisuperfandom, @deansgirl-1968, @justanotherwinchester, @jadesupernatural, @squirrelnotsam, @gaveherhearttotheliontattoo, @shortwinchester, @roonyxx, @jason-todd-squad, @thevelvetseries, @spnsuper17, @adoptdontshoppets

Partner from hell Tags

@moonlight-on-her-skin

#spn fanfic #spn #partner from hell masterlist #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester SPN #dean winchester x reader #Cop!Dean #cop au #cop!dean x reader #cop dean #cop!dean winchester x reader #cop!dean x profiler!reader #dean x reader #dean x you

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kiss-my-freckle · 4 years

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3x10 Rewatch: ...And the Woman Clothed in Sun

Francis has me cracking up at the open, trying to deepen his voice to impress Hannibal when he calls him. Fixing the phone lines at the old office. He has no idea what happened there at 7:30 on many a night, and he has no idea what he's about to step between. Hannibal quotes The Tyger. "Did he who made the Lamb make thee?" Multiple conversations about acts of God and creations of. Bedelia and the lie she created to wiggle her way out of the situation she put herself in is paying off. "My journey to damnation began when I was swallowed by the beast." lmfao!! This entire conversation foreshadowing her finale scene. Another ugly face in the crowd. Jack, Alana, Chilton, Bedelia... all of them lying. "Will has not had his breakthrough yet." Breakthrough for Will, coming right up. Like Alana, she's doing what she must to keep herself alive. Will is hilarious too because he knows better than to buy it. "Suffering inside Hannibal Lecter's bowels for what must have felt like an eternity." He's there because he knows he's not strong enough to deny Hannibal. "I've seen enough of him." This ties in what Hannibal said to her earlier in the season. "I've taken off my person suit. I let them see enough." Ties in what Will said of his wife. "She's aware enough." And ties in what Francis said of Reba. "I shared with Reba a little, in a way that she could survive." Will's need to talk to her about Hannibal speaks to his weakness. He's getting personal with him through her. Francis takes Reba to see the tiger at the zoo. Quite sensual. Her fingers in the bottle as she pours their drinks... a close-up view of her wet fingers putting olives on a toothpick. Yeah... that's hot. The best way to play with your food. Someone should've taught Mason. Their sex scene is delicious. Like Will, he has a nightmare. Pearls becoming teeth, probably related to his grandmother. The Dragon with a gun in his hand, standing under the moon. He wakes alone, rushes out of bed and runs upstairs to stand before his Dragon god on display. He hears it growling, fights like hell to push him out of his head. Reba is ready to leave, and Francis certainly wants her to. He's afraid The Dragon will demand he hand her over.

Hannibal triggers the phone to make a call they wouldn't allow him to make otherwise. Speaking as an employee working at the office of Chilton's publisher, he orders a copy of Hannibal the Cannibal for Will. He wants him to read it. A close-up of his tongue licking the envelope for a card he sends to Bedelia. "He always includes a recipe." Will continues to foreshadow her finale scene. "If he does end up eating you, Bedelia, you'd have it coming." He's not kidding. As I said in a previous post, I do believe Hannibal refused to cross those boundaries with Will, having already told him he doesn't want to think about him anymore. "They are acceptable... to murderers and cannibals." The best of understanding. I love the double "And you" response. "You lied, Bedelia. You do that a lot. Why do you do that a lot?" She says she obfuscates to protect Hannibal as a patient, but it's not just about Hannibal, she has to keep herself off his dinner table. She had no problem informing them when she was granted immunity. Once claiming Hannibal was her psychiatrist, now claiming she was his. Everything to protect herself, like blaming Hannibal for the death of her patient. "Not the first time I've lost professional objectivity in a matter where Hannibal is concerned." His death was on her. She tells Will he's there visiting an old flame. I love how he's fooling himself, getting personal with Hannibal through her. Especially when she makes comments like that. "You couldn't save Hannibal. Do you think you can save this new one?" I don't know what makes her think Hannibal needed to be saved. And this is coming from the mouth that said, "Almost anything can be trained to resist its instinct." Almost anything. Harder to train what's been playing out in the wild for as long as he has. Able to influence? Sure, but it's not exact. Bedelia telling Will she wants to crush the vulnerable bird. She wouldn't crush it, but that would be her first thought. Same concept with the shepherd's dog. Doesn't savage the sheep even though it wants to. She thinks Hannibal led Will to believe he’s a killer. "You're capable of righteous violence because you are compassionate." Will asks how she's capable. "Extreme acts of cruelty require a high level of empathy. The next time you have an instinct to help someone, you might consider crushing them instead." No different than telling Will to savage the sheep even though he's trained to resist his instinct. It's whatever suits her, however she can save herself the trouble... wiggle out of situations she gets herself into. That's why it pisses her off when she becomes the vulnerable bird, her meat back on the menu. Compassion gives Will the desire to help. He'd kill Hobbs to protect Abigail. His empathy allows him the ability to understand and relate to anyone, including Hannibal. He admitted this in the pilot episode. Cut to another flashback as Bedelia crushes her vulnerable bird while he's choking on his own tongue. Deep-fisted his throat, then passed out. It looked... sexual.

A lucky sign screen-spin like the one they do with Francis and the moon. Will shows the tree marking to Hannibal. It acts as a double for The Great Red Dragon and the Chinese character. Back to that theme of luck. Will setting aside what Hannibal said, puts his focus on The Great Red Dragon, then searches his face for a response. Hannibal basically tells him to look for those few pieces of art, that's how he catches up with Francis for their first confrontation. Demonic sexuality. Will is fighting to figure out how he chooses his families, still doesn’t want to bother looking at the way he chooses his own. "I like this Dragon, Will. I don't think he's crazy at all. I think he may be quite sane." I love how this hits against Will, the look in his eyes. "Can't pass on those terrible traits you fear the most." Will walks into the museum as Francis is chowing down on the Blake Watercolor. His escort informs him he's the second person wanting to view it, so Will knows he’s there. Not sure why he stares at Francis as he does, perhaps looking for the reason he smashes mirrors - his disfigurement. Francis knows that he knows, so he throws him like a rag doll and takes off. I'm like damn... after three years out, this is the man you throw him up against? Will isn't built like Hannibal or trained like Jack. Still fun to watch.

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alias-b · 4 years

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Without The Lights~ Billy Hargrove x OC Camille Harper

Chapter 5: Where Is My Mind?

Summary: Touch with Billy Hargrove often meant getting fresh stitches plucked open. For Camille Harper, he'd risk it. Camille was Queen Bee of Hawkins High School. The teen dream. Billy wanted her for it. No use lying about that much. But, they get more than they bargained for when two messy lives from opposite ends of town intertwine. Secrets unravel between them when one dimension bleeds into another. Camille is a girl just trying to do better when Billy barges into her life and new pieces come together. Maybe not all the ones they wanted. He gets tangled into her lavish existence. Rich girl. Absent parents. A mystery that blooms, threatening everything they built. And three little numbers: 006.

A/N: Yay, some S2 stuff picks up. We get more of Steve, The Party, and Jim Hopper. :) Warning for forced vomiting from pill overdose at the beginning here. Billy and Camille fall down the rabbit hole.

Pounding. Her world was hard vibrations. Nothing more.

Billy tried to leave. Tried.

“Camille!” He busted the lock on her window. Climbed a story to get to it through the thorny rose vines along the side of her house.

Hair framed her head with a dark halo. He dragged her half aware body into the bathroom, knocking bottles over when he heaved her into the tub. Cold water sprayed and fingers went into her throat.

“Come on!” She gagged. Vomit burned around the digits so he choked her again. Free hand tight into silky locks. Whole and half dissolved pills came up in chunks of puke and bile. Shower water sprayed them away. “That’s it. Fucking god damn it, Camille!” One of her hands came up to grip the side of the tub, feeling around as if to swat at him. Dainty fingers curled into his jacket, tugging blindly. “Little more. Fuck!” She heaved for air with blood shot eyes, head tipping to touch the porcelain.

“Billy...”

“What the fuck are you doing!” He screamed in her face. Shaking her. Billy swept wet hair from her cheeks. His voice got smaller, cracking with genuine confusion. He finally sounded like a teenager. “You stupid bitch, what the fuck did you do?” She realized he was crying. Barely there tears slipped down. Furious. Scared. “Don’t ever do that again! What were you thinking?!” He cupped her face and roughly let her go. Camille threw up again down her front and he stole a glass to offer tap water. "Drink it!" Heaving still, she gulped with two shaken hands on the glass.

“I wanted it to stop.” Her voice was near gone.

“You think dying will stop it?!” He raged, jerking the shower head to pull the cold spray over her face. "Wake up, Camille!" She coughed and sputtered, pushing at his soaked chest. Camille looked like a wet rat when he was done. Tiny. He turned off the water and dropped a whole pile of towels on her. “Get up!”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck me?” He yanked her out. “Stand up!”

“No!” She played up a brat, dragging along with him.

“Stand up, Camille!” Billy forced her against the counter, rubbing her down roughly with towels. He had to wedge her there with his body while she pushed at his chest. Fingers dug into her arms, faces too close. He hissed this time. “Take your fucking clothes off.”

“You first, dick!” She seethed, tearing from him with one big push. Mascara and eyeshadow had streaked down her cheeks. He tore his shirt open and tossed it at her head. Camille threw the towels aside and yanked everything off down to her underwear. Billy growled to himself and followed until he was in tight briefs. They swayed together, breathing heavily. Manic. Billy grew livid, tone low and even to spit through emotions.

“I’m not going to fuck you.”

“I hate you.” She broke apart.

“You think I fucking like you right now?” He gestured with both hands. The light caught his silver pendant. “You come into my life and drudge up all this shit.”

“You pursued me. I was just a challenge to you at first. A notch in your bedpost. New hive for Billy Hargrove, why not find the queen bee and try to fuck her.” She pushed at his chest and fingers clamped around her arms. They struggled, stumbling until they were falling into bed. Her chest rose and fell. Heat filled his body. He held her wrists into place and she watched his eyes. Bodies pressed together. Shuddering. Pulsing. Breathing deep. His thigh edged up between her legs. Camille was hard intent on his eyes. Billy tore himself off her, sitting up on his knees and she followed, holding herself up too. They watched each other, calming. Coming down from this high. They didn't speak until it was a little less red. Camille looked at his face and fell back, laughter erupted from her chest. Fleeting. Billy, unable to stop himself, let his own echo. They'd both officially lost it. Yet, they had each other. Comfort was horrifying. “It’s...It’s just all bullshit. It doesn't ever end. What's worse...people like us don't really want it to end.” He fucks her, it's all over. The chase. That hit too hard. She wiped her eyes and he sobered first.

“Get under the damn covers.” He yanked them back. “Be quiet. Still pissed at you. Not leaving until I know you won't stuff more pills. You think that's an escape from this?" Camille quivered, head lowering before she did as she was told.

“The fucking sunflowers.” She wheezed, rolling to face the window instead. “My mother… Every single time I’ve been sick. Every recital. Competition. Every single time. She places a big vase of sunflowers on my dresser. Do you think she feels shame? Gives them to Judith and talks about me? She stole her daughter.”

“Fucked up.”

“I’m fucked up.” Camille let him cover her before she whispered. “Don’t leave.”

“Wasn’t planning to.” He fell behind her. “Yet. Have this new friend who's an idiot I have to watch. Pills, Camille, Jesus Christ. I tore my shit up climbing to your damn window too.”

“You could have left when I shut that door. Know what self destruction looks like?”

“Something like that,” he agreed. There was an awkward beat.

“I’m not going to fuck you either.” She began, defiant.

“So, we agree.”

“Yes, we do.” She was hard. Billy hesitated, teeth pressed before he was lax.

“I’m going to take you out first.” He came to her ear. “Saturday. Around eight. Put on a dress and we’ll go to the damn movies. Something that’ll make us forget the bullshit.”

“You’ll pick me up and hold the door.” She rolled over to face him. “I want a flower too."

"A red rose?"

"No, I hate red roses. I want a peony. Pink one.”

“You think I know what the fuck a peony is?”

“Now you get to go find out.” She uttered and Billy turned off the lamp behind him. “You’ll buy the tickets and I’ll get the popcorn.”

“Fine.” He was harsh.

“Fine!” Camille shot back. They stared in the dim moonlight. “You have to hold my hand during the movie. Not the whole thing. Maybe the credits.”

“After it, I’m taking you to the corner diner. Twenty four hour shithole. You’ll get a milkshake. Strawberry.”

“I like chocolate.”

“I don’t give a shit.” He pressed his teeth.

“You have to share your fries.” She ordered then and he relented.

“It’s a fucking date, Camille.”

“I’ll fucking see you then, Billy.” They glared. Softening each edge. “I don’t hate you.”

“Maybe I don’t hate you either.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.” They repeated. She puffed and studied him, rolling around to see the night sky.

“I’m going to find out everything. Every dirty, awful thing they’ve done.” Camille admitted. “I have to pretend first. I can do that. I’ll be queen bee Camille and they’ll have to live with it.”

“Can’t do that if you stuff yourself with more pills.” Billy remarked, quieter, and she turned back around so she could face him.

“They give me pills for that...medical thing. What if those suppress me? What happens when the cuffs come off?” Camille uttered and he watched her eyes.

“Stick around and find out for yourself.” He offered, something dangerous in his tone. It made her smirk. "Now, shut your mouth and go to sleep."

“Goodnight.” Camille faced the window one last time and he scooted closer. Body heat warmed them up. She reached down for the doll on the floor to hold it close to her heart. Eyes closed and Billy draped one arm around her. He was tense as first. Stiff and shaken. Still furious. Still scared too. Camille slowly slipped her hand over his and he thought to jerk away. Shifted in a sudden, confused motion like he might. When he didn't, she felt him sigh and relax into her. Wordless, they fell together.

** ** **

Camille sat at the head of the table. Grin and bear it. Her parents made time for her. Finally. These people. These liars.

“Thankfully the school will be back Monday.” Rosemary cut into an omelet.

“Hm, I miss it.” Camille admitted.

“We see you’re feeling better.” Noah added.

“Yeah, I feel...great. Renewed.” Her teeth showed. Edna swept in the next room, coming out with a bright smile that Camille mirrored. The housekeeper turned her head to move on. That smile faded. Melting in an instant. “Do you really have to work today? What do they hog you for?”

“Chasing each and every breakthrough as hard as the last is what knowledge is built from.” He’d replied so she didn’t falter.

“Thought it was built on children.” Camille blinked. Noah stilled, eyes lifting. She didn't bow. “The budding new minds of generations after you.”

“I would say that both are equally important. Legacy is everything. You have to keep the cycle going."

“What if the cycle never worked?” She uttered, softer. “What if you’re just too mad to give it up?”

“Let’s hope it never comes to that,” he laughed and then she followed. Rosemary joined, sipping water. Her family.

What if the cycle had a cost? Who decides who pays it? She wanted to say.

“We know we’ve disappointed you.” Noah was heartfelt. At last.

“Disappointed? No. Never.” Camille sobered up. “You were good parents.” Were.

“We push your limits. I know. It’s all for your benefit. To grow up better.” To be the best.

“Maybe, I am just Camille.”

“Just Camille. Oh, no,” Noah chuckled again. “You are everything to us. Always remember that.”

“I will.” She dropped her eyes, silverware glinting in the light. “I was thinking of going to the library today. Is that okay, dad?” Dad. She drank water in gulps.

“Of course, honey.”

“Nancy is picking me up. I should head out soon.”

“We’ll be right here when you get home tonight.” Her dad spoke. Like it was a promise. Camille didn’t kiss either of them. Just fixed her makeup and flicked hair aside to put on a coat. She had avoided her friends until Friday morning. Jonathan was with Nancy yet again. Camille didn’t comment on that. She shut the door and slid in back while they looked expectantly.

“You said you found something. Did you bring it?” Nancy began when they drove off.

“I couldn’t bring the files. My dad will know. But, I do have something else.” Camille frowned.

“What was it?” Jonathan began, turning the corner.

“Me.”

** ** **

“We should go to Hopper,” Nancy shook her head.

“Feels like it’s all repeating itself.” Jonathan agreed. “Will and...you now.”

“Drop me here,” Camille shifted. “Just promise me you’ll destroy that place.”

“I will,” Nancy grabbed her hand. “Camille. Whatever is happening to you. We can help.”

“I need to figure it out first.” She flashed her scar. “Six.”

“Eleven, she had a tattoo.”

“And you say she disappeared into this...this...”

“Upside down. They thought so.” Jonathan finished. “You think you’re like her?”

“Pills will wear off, I haven’t been taking them for awhile. Whatever was slipping in is now flooding. If I don’t die or hemorrhage...I’ll have a complete answer.” Camille sat back again and Nancy let her go. “I have to push through.”

“I’m so sorry.” She’d offered, unsure why.

“So am I.” Camille returned it. “I’ll be fine.”

“If they find out-”

“I know. I’ll stop by the police then I’ll swing by your place later...if you’re still there. Plan this out before you jump on it. If you’re gone, I’ll know you made your move.” Camille got out. “Be careful.”

“You too.” They drove away and she peered up at the library when someone called her name.

“Steve,” she regarded him.

“Hey, uh, was that Nancy and Jonathan?” He’d raced across the street to her.

“...Yes.” She admitted and his shoulders fell. “Are you and Nancy still…?”

��I just figured we’d find our way back, you know?” He followed her into the library.

“Do you want to be with her?” Camille walked aisles of shelves, hands stuffed into her pockets.

“I mean, yes, of course. I do.” Steve trailed like a puppy. “What should I do?”

“You could try flowers.” Camille shrugged, pulling books down.

“Um, so what’s that about?” Steve read titles.

“Steve, I’m kind of going through something and...” Camille looked behind him and pulled him further into the shelves. “Nancy, she told me about last year.”

“...What?”

“Can you keep a couple more secrets?” She heaved books about telekinesis, unexplained mysteries, and photographic memories to the front. Marissa eyed her behind the desk.

“New subjects, even for you, Ms. Harper.”

“I’m...writing a story for school. Sci-fi type. Need ideas.”

“Oh? Sound’s fun. I love a good mystery.”

“You have no idea.” Camille stuffed her bag full and turned to Steve. “You have your car. Can I catch a ride? We can stop by Nancy’s house later, see if she’s around. She has a lot on her plate right now. I'll help you pick out flowers.”

“Thank you, Camille...” He closed his eyes, relieved. “Explain this...on the way.”

“I have time. But, first, I need to see Chief Hopper.”

** *** **

“Wait here.” Camille got out, ignoring an awed Steve.

“You can’t just leave me hanging after that story, Camille!” He went silent as the door shut behind her. Flo looked up when Camille came in.

"Ms. Harper, what brings you here?"

“Is the Chief in?”

“What is this regarding?” Flo asked and Jim came out of his office in a huff. “Hop-”

“I know, I know, I’m going to see Joyce right now.”

“Hop, this girl-”

“Chief Hopper, I need to speak with you.”

“Ms. Harper, I’m afraid there’s a line.” He breezed past her. "Tell your popular friends to quit doing donuts around the cop cars, it gets old."

“Really, well I can think of ten...maybe eleven...reasons you should take a moment to speak with me.” Camille crossed her arms when he skidded to a stop and peered at her. She split a smile at him. Jim eyed Flo and pointed Camille toward his office.

“Call Joyce, tell her I’ll be on the way.” Jim locked his door and Camille leaned against his desk. “Well?”

“Funny how pieces come together, Chief Hopper. Hearing a lot. Sounds like you were quite the hero. Did you know?”

“Know about what?”

“Mm, I think you knew.” Camille was still smiling. It set him on edge. A teen with fire inside her. “You know my dad is part of it.”

“What do you know?”

“Everything.” She stood taller. “Maybe a few things you don’t.” Camille fixed his typewriter so it was facing them. Concentrated. She thought of those broken lights. She thought of her mother rocking. Rage was white hot. Then it was red. Tap. Tap. Tap. Blood traced a thin line down to her lip. Jim Hopper’s jaw about hit the floor. The keys moved on their own. 006. “Want to talk to me now?”

“You have five minutes.”

“They stole me. The lab. My parents, they're a part of it. They were...given me. My dad has a whole study of my life in our attic. I found it after..." Camille offered her arm so he took her hand to eye the scar.

"You got out, how?"

"It was part of the experiment to...suppress me. I’ve lost it, Chief. ...I can...recall things. Skills. See them and know how they work. Mimic them. They drugged me to repress it as part of the study. To see if I could be controlled and still function. I’m a mockingbird in a cage. They’ll want me back soon, I know it and I need people I can trust. You were a big part of this. Here we thought you could care less about Hawkins. Used to be an easy gig. Drunk farmers, raccoons, and idiot teens. I need help, Chief Hopper. Please. If something happens to me, they can’t get away with it.”

“We made a deal. I’m sure your little friends told you that.”

“We were just kids.” Camille’s eyes watered and guilt pooled within him. He thought of El at home crying.

“I can protect you but, you can’t make waves.” Jim touched her shoulder to comfort her.

“I found my mother. They destroyed her.”

“These people are serious, Camille. They take care of loose ends and you might be the biggest one if you’re not careful.”

“I stopped the drugs they’ve been feeding me and something is awake inside me.” She whispered, trembling. “I feel it everywhere. I can’t stop it. I don’t want to.”

“You have to go home. Smile. Wait. Who knows about this? Just those involved in last year?”

“Maybe...someone else.” Her eyes turned. “They don’t know all of it. They mostly just know...about me.”

“Keep them quiet.” Jim was at her level. “I’ll take care of this. Go straight home.” He guided her out so she thanked him quietly and went to Steve’s car.

“I’m losing it, Cam.”

“You’re not the only one,” she watched him start up the vehicle. “Thanks. I’ll help you with Nancy now. Come on, I’m not sure she’ll be near home long. That girl has a fire under her.”

“Don’t I know it?” Steve pulled away.

** ** **

“I’m sorry. I love you.” Steve recited with roses in hand while he drove. “What the hell am I sorry for?”

“She’s sorry for taking her grief out on you and you’re sorry for not hearing her out better,” Camille shrugged. Always each other's wingman since they were still playing in sandboxes with absent parents. “You just need to communicate if you want her back, it’ll come to you. You’re a good guy, Steve, you just...maybe you wanted this to be over before she did.”

“That’s a bad thing? It was awful, I want to move on. And it's repeating itself. I hate it.”

“What if Nancy isn’t ready to let go yet? You can’t force that. She was wrong too though. Just talk to her. Last time you didn’t, we did a really fucked up thing. The spray paint. We didn’t stop Tommy.” They parked. “If she isn’t here then we’ll have to try later.” Camille got out and Steve came around the car. “I’ll wait.”

“No pressure.” He huffed. Little Dustin Henderson, annoyed, was on his way from the door.

“Steve, are those for Mr or Mrs. Wheeler?”

“No...” Steve had the flowers snatched from him. The kid stuffed them in the mailbox.

“Good.”

“Hey, what the hell? Hey!”

“Nancy isn’t home.”

“We missed her.” Camille reclined into the car and Dustin turned to see her.

“Oh...you’re here too?”

“Nancy told Mike before she left and he told you, yeah?” She shrugged.

"Lost contact with Mike a bit ago too. Something's up. You in?"

"All in... You got so big, Dusty. Last time I saw you, Nancy and I dressed like elves for your D&D campaign.”

“I’m up to speed on...most all that. Max had some weird stuff to say. Who’d a thought Hawkins High royalty is one of them?”

“Guess I’m in the freak circle.”

“Not the worst place you can be,” Dustin was genuine as he watched her nod.

“Where is Nancy?” Steve gestured to the house.

“Raising hell probably,” Camille shrugged.

“Doesn’t matter, we have bigger problems than your love life.” Dustin opened the car door and Steve looked at Camille, hopeless. She rolled with the punches. “Do you still have that bat? The one with the nails.”

“Why?”

“I’ll explain on the way.” Dustin Henderson kidnapped the King and Queen of Hawkins High School. “We’ll need one of the X-Men too, I guess. Get in Harper, explain this some more to me.”

“Yes, m’lord.” She giggled aloud, reeling back to when she and Nancy were younger. “Hey, no, back seat.” The kid huffed at her and got in so she followed. “Steve, come on.” Unable to stop them, he slid back inside and started the vehicle.

** ** **

The sky grew dim when Camille hurried from the phone booth.

“They think I’m at Heather’s. She always covers for me,” she got in when Steve started the car again. “So this...lizard thing...”

“I’ve told you both a hundred times, it is not a lizard.” Dustin groaned.

“You think it’s that...that demo-”

“Demogorgon. Similar to the thing from last year, yeah. The face opened with teeth...and it ate my cat.” They pulled up to the Henderson house and Steve got the bat from his trunk. Camille held a flashlight out to the locked cellar door outside.

“I don’t hear shit.” Steve remarked.

“He’s in there.” Dustin pointed.

“And we just...smash it.” Camille looked up.

“Hopefully.” They watched Steve poke the metal door with his bat before smacking it harder. Nothing.

“All right, listen, kid. I swear, if this is some sort of late Halloween prank...you’re dead.” Steve began.

“It’s not.”

“All right?”

“It’s not a prank.”

“You got a key for this thing?” Steve went on and Dustin offered it to Camille. “Slow.”

“Got it,” she unlocked the chain and yanked the door up. They braced for the monster. Nothing.

“He must be further down,” Dustin watched on as Camille shifted the light around. “I’ll stay up here, in case he tries to escape.” The two teens looked at him in disbelief.

“Stay with him.” Steve began.

“You are not going alone,” Camille shook her head and followed him down the steps. Nothing still. Steve found a better light and they were awed. He poked a pile of slime on the floor and lifted it with the bat. “That…looks like skin. This thing is growing. Fast it looks.”

“Get down here,” Steve called up the steps and Dustin raced to them.

“Oh, shit...” They looked to a giant hole in the wall. “Oh, shit!”

“Looks like your demo-friend molted and ran.” Camille watched the skin drop to the floor.

“No way…” Dustin groaned.

“What next, Dusty?” Camille turned her gaze to the boys behind her.

“I have an idea, we might die.”

“Lovely, let’s hear it.” Camille grew flat and Steve’s head snapped to her expression.

“Can you guys meet me at Bradley’s Big Buy tomorrow? About one? My mom leaves for work.” Dustin smiled and both teens groaned.

“I have a date tomorrow night. Do not make me late.” Camille turned to go up the steps.

“With who?” Steve chuckled and she peered down, cheeks pink. “Hargrove? That asshole? Come on, Camille, that guy’s wanted in your pants since day one. It’s all trophies to him.”

“Max’s brother? That guy? Camille,” Dustin joined in. “He’s awful.”

“Can’t explain why. It just happened.” Camille rolled her eyes. “You don’t know him. Or me.”

“And maybe you don’t either. You’re a pretty girl he wants and he’s...” Dustin paused. Kid was smart. “He’s not a good guy.”

“Bradley’s Big Buy. Tomorrow.” Camille turned and didn’t say anymore. Didn't deny it either. She went upstairs and Dustin shot Steve a look.

“Seriously?”

“She’s...going through something, might want to let it play out.” Steve whispered. Dustin would never understand these dumb teenagers.

** ** **

“We’re here...” They arrived to an empty lot beyond the forest. A sort of junkyard covered in busted cars and an old bus.

“I just bankrolled three buckets of raw meat for this.” Camille tossed her gloves aside. A trail of beef bits stretched behind them.

“It’ll do,” Steve walked on. “Good call.” Dustin looked proud and Camille smiled at him.

“This better work.”

“The others will be here soon. They have to be,” he added while Steve dumped a pile of raw meat at the center.

“I said medium-well!” Lucas called across the way, getting off his bike with Max next to him.

“Guess we’re waiting for Dart now.” Camille debated her own sanity and pushed the rusty bus door open while greetings were exchanged. Lucas and Dustin went off to the side so Max crossed the field. “In the party now?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” She shrugged, brightening. “You too, I see.”

“They haven’t heard from Will, Mike, or Hopper.” Steve came in behind them.

“Nothing from Nancy and Jonathan too.” Camille agreed.

“Kid was right. Something’s up.”

“We need to blockade the bus. Stay safe. Sun will start going in an hour.” Camille thought of Billy again and frowned. “Max, follow me. We’ll gather scraps. Steve, get the rest of the supplies, finish the fire trap.”

“Weird town.” Max remarked once they got outside into the grass.

“You’re telling me. I’m supposed to be worried about colleges and prom and being a senior next year. And...I’m monster hunting. My life is in shambles and I’m mildly relieved. Just...knowing, I guess. Also, I might be a lab freak.”

“My skateboard. You...see things and copy it.”

“Simply speaking. Maybe I always knew...I just really found it easy, knowing how things work and come together. People are more complicated though. Still working on the believing?”

“I’m coming around,” Max helped her pile metal scraps and sheets in front of the bus. “Never said sorry...that dinner. My stepdad.”

“It is not your fault. It never will be.” Camille stopped to turn. Max paused and nodded. “Max, I...I know some stuff. About Neil. About Billy. And you know what? Honestly, I only see one side to Billy. I get flickers of the rest. He's hurting. We're all hurting. The side that flirts and hides...and uses his charm to get what he wants out of people. That isn’t all I see, granted, but I can’t...make excuses for him. I’m a pretty face to him. You see everything. It’s like a...horrible cycle, isn’t it? It tumbles down to you. To anyone in his way, I'm sure.”

“My stepdad got worse and then Billy did. Mostly after the move.”

“What happens to Billy is awful and it never should have happened...and I don’t experience what you do. But, what happens to him is no excuse for what I’m sure trickles down toward you. You know that? His job is to be your brother. That’s all. And he has a lot of anger. I’ve started to wonder where he puts it these last few days.” She touched Max’s chin. “You can’t change him and he can’t change Neil. Do not ever waste your energy on changing another person. Someone wants to change, they will. It’s not on you. You can tell them the difficult truth and it's on them what they do with it.”

“You learn that the hard way?”

“Like most things when it comes to people.” Camille touched her stomach and turned on her heel to press a large sheet of metal to the bus. “People who don’t change; they complete the cycle and they end up alone. It’s tragic but, people who work to escape it. We have each other. Not all is forgiven but...it'll always matter, you know? Be proud of that if you can.” Max gave a nod, lips lifting. Dustin and Lucas peered at them across the way and Max turned, immediately they went back to work. “They like you, by the way.”

“What do I do?”

“Pretend not to notice, of course, it drive boys crazy.” Camille muttered and Max snickered.

"Even my brother?"

"Especially your brother." Camille gave a soft scoff. "But, he has girls lining up to hop into that Camaro with him."

"Not really since you guys started hanging out more," Max remarked and Camille stilled to see her. "He's the same jerk. But, that changed. Wanders the house in thought before he blasts his music and works out. Longest I've seen him without some girl. My stepdad keeps accusing him of seeing you. Neil says awful things about...anyone who isn't like him."

"Huh. Believe me, I know the type." Camille turned to focus back on her task. “You know, I always wished that I had a sibling.”

“You have a ritzy house.”

“With a pool and rec room full of games and a great street to skateboard on. If you’re ever bored after school and need out and away from dumb boys.”

“Not hanging out with the popular crowd?” Max added more steel to the bus.

“No, they’re not as cool as you.” Camille grinned. Max felt herself smile as she looked up at the teen. Popular, smart, and gorgeous. Also a badass. She felt accepted with a great group of people. Camille let herself feel it as well. They worked for the next hour, securing the area and setting a trap. The sun began to set while they piled into the bus. Darkness and fog shrouded them in slow waves. Lucas went up to keep watch. Camille walked the grounds with the bat in hand to listen for anything. Owls sounded in the trees beyond them. Max joined Lucas up top.

“Anything?” Dustin cut in.

“Nothing yet.” She called back, going inside. “Lucas?”

“I don’t see him.” He watched through his binoculars. The group hushed when a screeching growl sounded in the distance.

“Uh, oh.” Camille stood with Steve and Dustin to come to the barred window. Bleak abyss ahead, a creature stepped out of the fog. “Oh, my god.” She went on, covering her lips. The beast with no face.

“Believe me now?” Dustin spoke.

“Ah, yeah, I think I do.” The demogorgon stepped out of the fog, clicking and hissing about. It didn’t go for the pile of meat.

“He’s not taking the bait.” Steve shook his head. “Why isn’t he taking the bait?”

“Maybe he’s not hungry.” Dustin tried. Steve met Camille’s eyes before he realized it.

“Maybe he’s sick of cow.” He stood up.

“You can’t,” she grabbed for his arm.

“Steve, what are you doing?” Dustin came forward when Steve tossed him the lighter.

“Just get ready.” He took the bat and opened the door.

“Steve, no.”

“Cam, just watch them.” He put his arm out. Instead, she picked up a metal bar, thick with a sharp end.

“I’m not letting you or some demo-shit make me late for my date tonight.” She huffed. “Max, Lucas, come down. Something related to that thing took Barb, I’m not letting it take you too. This is my choice, Harrington. I’m going out with you. You can’t change that.”

“Cover me?” Steve’s eyes were genuine now.

“Always do.” She followed him out and shut the door. They crept forward into the grass while the creature clicked those horrid sounds. A lone lamp high above them offered some light. Not enough. Steve whistled for it.

“Come on, buddy,” he eased and Camille held steady, hands tight on the makeshift staff. “Come on, dinner time. Human tastes better than cat, I promise.” His bat swung back and forth at the ready. The demogorgon was the size of a wolf, creeping out to see them

“Steve! Camille! Watch out!” Lucas erupted atop the bus.

“Little busy here!” Steve was intent.

“Three o’clock!” The boy called to them. Nearby, another monster of the same size jumped up.

“Steve, I got you, stay forward.” Camille pressed her back to his, terrified and enraged. Adrenaline pumped into needy veins. More monsters came up and around cars to circle the teens.

“Abort!” Dustin opened the door to call them back. Demogorgons charged, separating the two friends. Steve rolled over a car, smashing one aside while Camille let go. She felt that same fire burn inside her brain, this time it flooded. Limbs gave in, she whirled the bar to wack one away and impaled another. Expertly like she'd trained for this. “Holy shit!” Steve lunged toward her next.

“Duck!” She dropped down when Steve crashed the bat into a third before it could get her. “What was that?”

“I may have watched some action films last night to prepare,” she heaved and kicked a monster, bringing the sharp end down while it screeched in pain.

“Good thinking.” He admitted when even more creatures appeared. Too many. The kids called out for them to return and Steve grabbed for her. “Run!” They barely made it back, slamming the door. Steve set more metal against it to secure it. The beasts were eager and ravenous, shaking the bus from all angles.

“Go!” Camille covered them, ushering them back while Steve swung the bat at one trying to break in. Dustin pulled out his radio to call for help and Camille fell against the side, eyes closing. She concentrated. Blood dripped from both nostrils.

“Hey, it’s just like...” Lucas realized it. “Come on! You can do this!”

“I don’t know how!” She growled and let it become a scream. Forces exploded out. Monsters were sent into all directions.

“Camille?” Max shook her when she sagged down, eyes hazy.

“Holy shit...” Dustin helped pull the teen aside. Max froze when the top of the bus gave calculated bangs. A demogorgon faced them from the opening above and she screamed. Camille grabbed for her at the same time Steve pushed them aside.

“Out of the way!” He threatened quickly but it stopped as if it heard a call. Slowing, they all followed in a trance, running back into the trees. Camille breathed even and wiped her nose on her sleeve. “Bring that out earlier next time, Harper.”

“Gladly.” She puffed. “Where’d they go?”

“Steve scared them off…?” Dustin followed them off the bus.

“No...no way, they’re going somewhere.” Steve turned around to see them and Camille wrapped her arms around herself.

“We need to get out of here.” She debated it. Billy was going to be so upset. “We need to follow them.”

#billy hargrove #Billy hargrove x oc #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fic #Billy hargrove fanfic #billyhargrove #Camille Harper #billy x camille #without the lights #mine #writing #stranger things fanfiction

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officialdipp · 7 years

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OPEN GROUP VERSE ; DOLLS IN PSEUDO PARADISE

If you’re interested, feel free to reblog this to help spread the word !

Where do things go when they are no longer needed ? If something is deemed as ‘ forgotten ’, ‘ worthless ’, ‘ not worth remembering ’ then surely it would be as if that thing had never truly existed in the first place wouldn’t it ?

Thrown away, abandoned, no better than mere FANTASY.

But what does any of this have to do with you ? You are not a forgotten thing to be thrown away, surely you aren’t. You are surely someone who goes about life in the best way one can. Perhaps you have friends, family, pets, surely you have something, someone, which binds you to this world. ( you are REAL. ) So what does any of this have to do with you ?

A forest with no exit ( how long have you been walking ? ) you don’t remember how long you have been here ( when did you even walk into this forest ? Had you not been SOMEWHERE ELSE ? Walking to school, to work, to somewhere surely… nothing seems to be missing on your person after all… ) Would you not have noticed walking into a forest ? ( But you didn't. You didn’t notice. How are you here ? )

WHY IS THIS FOREST SO QUIET ?

An unnerving atmosphere truly, tall trees with branches reaching up vainly to the rising sun ( when did it become morning ? ) tendrils of mist curling through lush leaf strewn ground, grasping, grabbing, searching to cling desperately onto anything which was foolish enough to walk through these unmarked paths. This forest is unfamiliar, this forest is perhaps just the slightest bit unsettling, but not as unsettling as the vague distinct tingle in the back of one's mind which is all too recognizable as the feeling of being WATCHED ( but from where ? By what ? ) you hear no birds in the trees, you hear no movement of life through the underbrush. ( that isn't normal surely ) but you can FEEL it, you know you can, EYES watching your every move ( like a lion watching a lamb which has strayed from its pen )

Perhaps you walk faster, ( there has to be an exit ! ) perhaps you don’t care, ( you aren’t in any danger right ? So why should you ? ) perhaps you check your phone ( no service ) perhaps you cry out for help ( no response )

Where do things go when they are forgotten ?

Eventually, a breakthrough, through the trees and mist you can make out the distinct outline of a small village ( you weren’t walking in circles after all it seems ) and the closer you get the more you can begin to make out; a school, an apartment complex, and what you are sure is something like a gas station ( signs of civilization ! ) and what's more, among it all you catch sight of other people. A crowd slowly gathering at the center of what you could only assume is some sort of town square, around something, ( around someone ) and surely you soon join the crowd too, no ? It would be better for you than simply standing around ( or risking becoming lost in the woods once more ) this has to be a chance for answers. Then you see her, a women standing upon little more than slightly elevated platform at the center of it all, yet still somehow COMMANDING the attention of every person gathered around her.

Where do things go when they are forgotten ?

SHE has been expecting you it seems. Her blonde hair done up in a tight bun, parasol neatly folded at her side, bright ( unnatural ) violet eyes which at once sweep through the murmuring voices of the forcibly gathered crowd.

❝ My, my, so many things have WASHED UP on my shore it seems... ❞ She speaks suddenly, her voice somehow demanding the attention of every single person gathered before her despite its perfectly carefree tone. ( She isn’t making the effort to raise her voice much higher than the clamoring of the crowd, and why should she RAISE her voice ? Surely you will listen, wont you ? To the only person ( ? ) here who seems to know what's going on. ) ❝ Please DO settle down, all your pointless chitchat is going to give me a headache. I’m sure you all must have SO many questions, no ? ❞ A small chuckle escaped her lips, a small elegant curtsy given to the crowd in one completely fluid motion ( like a magician about to start a great show ) before continuing, ❝ --but as they say, patience is a virtue. All will be revealed with due time I promise you, but for now-- ❞

❝ WELCOME TO MY WONDERLAND ❞

Spirited away to a land of fantasy, trapped in an abandoned mountain village lost to time and space, you find yourself with nothing but the clothes on your back and anything you happened to have on hand. You have been captured, trapped like rats, and your captor, ( a woman calling herself Yukari Yakumo ) claims you have been FORGOTTEN by the world you came from.

The monster in your closet, the shadows that lurk in the night, the supernatural, the paranormal, how shocked must you be to discover they are all VERY much real. Real, and CRAVING for the FEAST they have been denied for so long.

And that is where you come in, your captor has made THAT much PERFECTLY clear. Forgotten to your world and lost in shadow, you are to become food for the creatures of myth and legend that haunt this place. However, your captor has taken pity ( ? ) on you, ( or perhaps simply sending lambs off to the slaughter is much too BORING for her tastes... ) and offers up a DEAL ( how FOND this one is of her GAMES ).

End the current existence of one of your fellow prisoners, and she will set you free, as a bonus, she’ll even grant you your greatest desire --a wish. However, all games need stakes, all games need a challenge ( did you really believe it’d be so SIMPLE ? ). Kill someone and get away with it when put on trial against your equals. If you FAIL you get EATEN by the monsters which lurk within the outskirts of the village. Likewise, if your fellow prisoners do not guess correctly, while you will be freed ( as promised ) the remaining prisoners will make quite the BUFFET in return...

You have been forced into a murder game, though really the better words for this is a game of survival.

Trapped in a land that does not care for you, populated by the creatures who gave humans a reason to FEAR the SHADOWS, trapped in a game of kill or be killed, live or die, escape or be eaten. In the end, lives WILL be lost. ( Your warden made THAT clear too ) Either way, Yukari is intent on getting exactly what she wants from her new PLAYGROUND.

There are NO real RULES here, though Yukari has been kind enough to place several ( actual ) customized street caution signs in the village square for you. Follow them, don’t follow them, she doesn’t really care, though if something goes WRONG don’t say she didn’t WARN YOU.

They are all very simple, and each sign colored in a visible bright yellow, they are as follows:

CAUTION !

The forest holds many dangers, try not to visit after sunset. Steal from the shops at your own risk: punishment will be administered at the whim of the shopkeepers. Property damage should be avoided, unless one is handy enough to fix whatever they broke. Leave offerings at shrines for a little bit of good luck ( you’ll need it ). Attack the sukima youkai at your own risk. Mind the gap.

VERSE INFO

✂—– This is an OPEN VERSE. ANYONE is free to join, canon, oc, multi-muse, etc. THE CUT-OFF POINT FOR CAST WILL BE SOMETIME AFTER THE SECOND CHAPTER BEGINS. Be sure to tag your verse posts with the tag ‘ v; dolls in pseudo paradise ’. Follow it to keep up with the verse’s events ! That is the official tag for the group, and where you will find open starters, group events, new applicants, etc. You’re more than welcome to make your own tag alongside that, though please tag your posts with the official tag so we can find your posts !

✂—– This verse is inspired by the setting of Touhou Project, the murder game mechanics of Dangan Ronpa, with a dash of Fatal Frame and other such horror games of its nature thrown in. as such, dark themes WILL be present. You do not have to be familiar with any of these things to participate, we got you covered on all fronts!

✂—– Youkai muses are allowed and encouraged! There’s only one catch- in this setting, youkai are born from human fear. It’s hard coded into their schematics, they cannot resist their nature. How open they are about their inhuman status amongst their peers is up to you, but given the situation they’re in.... it’s safe to say a wolf among the sheep’s going to cause a little bit of panic, no?

✂—– Yukari has basically spirited away all your muses from their canon verse / your verse of choice and dumped them into a realm which exists as a sort of ‘ wonderland ’, a pocket dimension of sorts with seemingly no exit. They have been kidnapped, ripped right from their ‘ story ’ and dropped right smack dab into the village with only the clothes on their backs and everything they may have on hand at the time.

✂—– As such, memories have been left INTACT ( probably ). Your muse remembers going about their daily life as normal before getting snatched up ( ‘ gapped away ’ literally walking through a rift in space-time which Yukari created ) and without their notice ending up a forest.

✂—– The village at NIGHT TIME leads to many events at RANDOM. There is no set schedule for these. Youkai are roaming in this village after all, and they will do as they please WHEN they please. Occasionally there will be witnesses, some there may not be. Some events may be dangerous to your muse, some might be helpful. But all of them are certainly strange… even the ones among you just seem a little bizarre.

✂—– It is preferable that you follow the ADMINS of this group as found in the admins page though it isn't required.

✂—– For the murder events, the admins will pair off two people ( though volunteers are welcomed ) – one to play the part of ‘ murderer ’ and the other their ‘ victim ’. The max amount of people who can be killed by ONE PERSON is TWO. If no one is willing to take the role, one of the admins will handle it.

✂—– Please. If you take part in this verse, treat each other kindly out of character and please be welcoming to those who join. See an open without notes ? Reply ! Want to plot with someone ? Feel free to ask ! We’re all just a big happy family stuck in a death village on a mountain. No big deal.

✂—– Threads of any length are welcome !

✂—– Trials, murders, and story events will be announced by Yukari. Trials are interactive and will be played out by interacting with other members in the group or by sending IC asks to this blog directed at Yukari. When it comes time to the voting, you’ll also cast your votes by sending them into the blog ! Yukari will also confirm or deny evidence in the trial and investigation if it’s needed or asked ( though whether she wants to or not is a different story-- ).

✂—– The application for this verse is short and simple. Only a few key things will be needed to know about your muse, which will be kept PRIVATE for the sake of moderating this ‘ story ’ New people will be introduced in batches and the masterlist will be updated as the applications come in !

✂—– Doubles are not an issue.

SEND ANY FURTHER QUESTIONS HERE PLEASE CHECK THE FAQ PAGE AND THE TAG AS IT'S UPDATED. FOR MORE INFORMATION ON THE SETTING ITSELF CHECK OUT THIS PAGE SUBMIT APP: HERE APP STATUS: OPEN

Name / Age: Species ( human / youkai / something else ? ): Weakness your character has ? ( physical / mental ): What would make them WANT to kill someone ? Strengths your character has ? ( physical / mental): What would KEEP them from killing ? Would you be willing to play the role of murderer ? Would you be willing to play the role of victim ? Triggers ? URL:

#v; dolls in pseudo paradise #reference #group verse #open group rp #open group verse #long post//

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pattyannand99-blog · 7 years

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' This Is Just what It Is'.

Tiffany Taylor uncovers 'all' her dirty little bit of tricks to the male human race! Promo woman clothing could be varied from limited t shirts, mini skirts to dresses, or even bathing suits. The awful honest truth about hooking is actually that, not merely may http://thomasdiet.info it not function without compulsion, without numerous forms from force that would certainly collapse. After his papa has produced it incredibly crystal clear he doesn't desire him on meds, and promises theres absolutely nothing wrong (but if he was all around more he would certainly understand) Wow, I experience a little bit of body weight lifted off my shoulders having the ability to reveal this to someone. The greatest way to carry out the initial part is actually to really deal with the lady with a smile, snatch her hand as if you are actually heading to offer yourself, twirl her around as well as place her arm right responsible for your back. As shows up in the picture, the painting is of a girl in a red outfit playing the piano. The bed linen set has different hues of pink, blue and also yellow which can cheer up any kind of baby room specifically if you are wanting to generate a themed room. Playing spruce up is one of the many delights from being actually a young women, and also dressing up your Lalaloopsy dolls in different ensemble is one thing that no young women deserving of the title can easily stand up to performing. When you consider this, the expecting moms and dads are actually never the primary to understand if they are possessing a child or even girl. Although the woman Huck sticks with isn't misleaded, she good-naturedly decides to provide him some recommendations on how to pass for a gal. This season Gossip Female possesses almost fully sidelined the compelling in between Serena as well as Blair and also it's harmed the series. Scientific research has actually made astounding breakthroughs and also we know the adhering to aspects of the Lant Street Female. Before you go out and also begin going out with a gal truly, you may need to know initially if she wants you and in your business. Yet started early on as well as performed with the correct socializing and oversight my prodigy as well as my gold and blue macaw are actually proof of a caring as well as caring capacity.

My target rate for Blue Attire is actually around $8.00 accordinged to the aggressive P/S Various in my Bottom Situation Case above. Elizabeth, sometimes gotten in touch with Beth" or even Bette", hung around as a youthful teenage gal at the films, enjoying the Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire make out that was prominent at the moment. When you perform this you will definitely have the capacity to much better understand just what made a mistake and also exactly what you must be carrying out in order to get her back again. I have certainly never had a repulsive man, BUT, a lady that deserves her body weight in femininity chooses a male who will definitely address her along with course than a jerk any type of day. But when you are actually aiming to find other people in life that will assist you succeed as well as keep you on the ideal course, that's that team mindset from, all right you are actually far better at this compared to I am, you are actually far better at, you recognize my female Sunrise, she is actually a marketing expert, so we all most likely to Dawn when we need to have assistance in regards to how absolute best to industry our own selves 'cause a ton of our team are unemployed. Although Tiffany & Co., residence from the little bit of blue package that specifies females' hearts aflutter, carries out not offer diamond interaction bands available online, it right now offers an active part that enlightens diamond customers in the 4 C's from ruby premium as well as the potential to schedule an in-store consultation.

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lashofer · 7 years

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Resolve

Note: This story is best viewed at http://[email protected]. Formatting is not supported on tumblr's mobile app.

I'm in the passenger seat next to Ruby. Her fingers are white on the wheel, and her eyes are fierce. I haven't seen her in a long time.

Bruises, the latest ones,

are in blotches that run down the side of her neck and

disappear into the collar of her plain, black t-shirt.

Her dark hair is in a ponytail. She is silent as she stares at the oncoming road. Pepper, her Chihuahua, keeps looking at me like she doesn't know who I am. A bright red cast is around Pepper's right foreleg.

"That's it." She mumbles it like she's done before, but her eyes are bright. I can tell that she means it this time. She doesn't address me; nobody ever does.

Brian's Jeep isn't in the driveway, but we park the old Volkswagen Bug along the street anyway. She scoops Pepper out of my lap. Pepper whines, and she kisses her on top of her balding head. "Nobody's gonna hurt you."

A large chip of white paint comes off the town house's front door as she opens it. She looks at it for a while. She knows that this place needs some work, but it took her until now to notice how truly run down it is. How many years has she lost to this place? She can barely remember them all. The front entrance smells of cigarette smoke and spilled booze.

Kicking aside the liter of vodka,

she makes her way to the bedroom. She sets Pepper down on the bed and opens the closet. An old backpack from university lies in the far corner, but she keeps looking; she doesn't want to look like she's leaving. Her hands grab the largest purse she owns instead. She doesn't need much, just enough clothing to last a couple of days. The underwear drawer is ignored; anything in there will only serve as a reminder of him. Her actions are methodical; she hardly notices what goes in the bag. Three random tops. The jeans that Brian always found too tight. Pepper's stuffed duck and leash goes in too. She'll grab dog food along the way.

The bathroom is next: toothbrush, flattening iron, deodorant, tampons. She knows she's forgetting things, but doesn't care. She opens the makeup drawer, something she hasn't done in a long time.

The mascara feels innocent and small in her hand, not whorish or provocative.

She unscrews the cap and brushes some on her upper lashes. It's clumpy from sitting in the drawer for so long. There's a lipstick tube in the far back, behind some heavy foundation. She puts some of that on too.

She stares at her reflection for a full minute. Her blue eyes are doll-like, large and vulnerable.

She turns to the side, placing her hands on her flat abdomen. All she's eaten for the last two weeks is salad: a cup of spring greens, a teaspoon of balsamic vinaigrette, and ten kidney beansthrown in to make it more filling.

Pressing her lips together to spread the red dye, she hardly recognizes herself. That suits her just fine. Pepper moves around from the bedroom; Ruby can hear her trying to dig around in the blankets. How her cast gets in the way.

Ruby snaps away from her reflection. Brian will be back any minute.

The door opens with a bang.

I feel myself fading.

She zips the full bag closed, swings it over her shoulder.

"Ru?"

She emerges from the bedroom with Pepper on her hip. Pepper struggles when she sees him, so she sets her down behind the couch.

Brian looks relieved. "Babes, are you alright?" Something is different, but he doesn't know what.

She looks at him directly. She's tried to stand up to him hundreds of times, but I was never there. I am now.

"I'm so sorry." His fingers dance over the purple and brown splotches on her neck. He kisses them softly and lifts her up with strong, tanned arms so he can bury his face in her shoulder. He's careful not to press too hard. "I just … get frustrated. Work is insane, and I don't mean to take it out on you. You never give up on me." Tears well in his eyes. "You're the only one who hasn't."

Ruby melts into him. His words are maple syrup, and fill her whole again.

I'm almost gone.

Ruby catches a glimpse of Pepper trying to lick the fur under the cast, and her resolve strengthens. Her anger is tangible. Hot steel lines her stomach.

"I need to go back to the vet," she lies, and does her best to keep her voice light. "They said to pick up the prescription in an hour." He nods and sets her down. "Take my Jeep."

"No, the receipt is in my glove box." With the challenge of his authority, his demeanor changes. She hurries on. "Want me to pick you up anything?" Good. Make him think you're coming back.

"Your dog spilled my shit." He eyes the vodka bottle.

It takes everything she has not to let her anger show. She hates him, and hasn't realized how much until this moment. "I'll stop by the liquor store on my way back."

She grabs Pepper and a throw blanket from the couch, and heads out the door without saying goodbye. Her arms are full, and she fumbles with the keys.

H e r ha n d s s h ak e, and she misses the keyhole twice. I sit in the passenger side again, and Ruby spreads the throw on top of me, making a nest where Pepper can nestle in.

"God, I'm starving."

Air flows in as the window rolls down, and Ruby rips the elastic out of her hair. The long strands blow around us like dancing shadows. We pull into the McDonald's drive-thru. A Double Big Mac for her, a kid's meal for Pepper. Through a mouthful of grease, she belts out the lyrics from a popular music station, and hands Pepper fries over the shifter handle.

The Interstate exit is coming up. It looms ahead, and she struggles with indecision.

I give her a nudge, and she jerks the steering wheel at the last moment. Angry horns blare behind us. A funeral home passes on our right, and

I feel a tug.

I'm in the back pew next to Mitch. I guess Ruby doesn't need me anymore. A closed casket lies at the front of the long room, adorned with a picture of an older gentleman and large bouquets of white flowers. A podium stands behind it, where a preacher addresses the crowd in somber tones.

Mitch doesn't believe in God. At least, he doesn't think he does. Mitch believes in facts, and the fact is that the man in that casket is dead. He's not floating around the heads of the people in the pews like a trapeze performer.

He's angry. Jule, his sister, called him two days ago, and he was in the midst of a breakthrough. He works at CERN, and doesn't have time for this. The plane ride was terrible. A couple sat beside him, and brought their newborn child on the flight. It wouldn't stop screaming. He couldn't stand the movie that was playing; nobody knows how to write a goddamn thing anymore. The pseudo-science was laughable at best. He tried to open his laptop and work instead, but his ear buds wouldn't drown out the child.

Being in people's heads can be exhausting sometimes.

Jule is in one of the front pews like the rest of Mitch's family. He hasn't seen anyone in five years. He doesn't know if he can face them right now, but I'm here for a reason. I wouldn't be here if he hadn't made up his mind.

The preacher asks if anyone else has words to share.

Mitch stands and brushes off his pants, the scribbled paper clutched in his fist. I follow him. A gasp comes from his mother as she sees him walk by. He pauses and gives her a tentative kiss on the cheek. He smiles at Jule, and pushes back the guilt. He's here, and that's enough for now.

The casket is large, and stained a dark cherry. Mitch brushes his hand over the wood, and picks up the picture frame.

The man sits on the porch in a rocking chair, drinking spiked lemonade. He wears a Hawaiian shirt, and white socks peek underneath his Velcro sandals.

A stone drops in his chest. He was the one who took the photograph.

Wind forces me back towards the exit. I grab a pew bench to stop. My hands are translucent, and my feet are swept out from under me. I force them back down to connect with the floor. Mitch still stares at the photograph, frozen.

I know he can do this. I won't let him down. Working my way from bench to bench, I latch myself onto the casket.

I grab Mitch's hand.

He sets the picture down.

His shoulders shake, and I take them. Turn him around. He walks up to the podium on his own. The crowd stares at him, most of the faces familiar. The wooden ledge is tight in his grasp. He takes a deep breath.

"My father was a wonderful man."

#fiction #short story #short stories #formatting fun #html #css

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