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felice-jaganshi · 20 days

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Alastor's Leash

Chapter 1

(Sequel to both His Pet and My Fallen Apple)

(Warnings: later chapters will contain torture of beloved characters, and major character death. Be prepared for pain before you go into this one.) (Also a little one-sided radio static because i crave angst right now apparently.)

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Everything was on fire, more than usual, considering it was hell. But, Alastor was having fun! And that's what's important. As it turns out, angel blood gives demons a temporary power boost!

After his rampage of blood and destruction ended, including more souls being ripped apart for his broadcasts. Charlie tried to have a talk with him.

“Heyyy, Alastor… While you're doing a great job protecting the hotel, and I really appreciate your efforts, I was wondering if you could… be less… murdery with it? Please?” He smiled fondly at her nervous request, ah how adorable she was.

“Hm, no.”

She groaned in frustration, “Zariah, can you please talk to your boyfriend-”

Zariah failed to hear another word out of Charlie's mouth. Her eyes dilated as she spotted someone she never thought she'd see again and ran full sprint to them, snatching the unsuspecting angel in a hug!

“Becca!! Becca Becca Becca! I've missed you!” She was purring so loud everyone in the room could hear. The light green haired angel responded,

“Zariah! You've been here this whole time and didn't call me?! I've missed you too!!” She hugged Zariah back tightly.

“Sorry, my phone broke when I fell into hell… and you know I'm bad at remembering numbers… and then I forgot to say anything to Lucifer the one time I met him because like, well, you know…” Zariah didn't want to talk about that with Alastor in the room, he'd get dangerously jealous.

In fact, you could already hear his radio static going off, indicating his frustration.

“Ah, an old friend of yours darling? You must introduce me.” His smile was strained and while his tone was pleasant, Zariah knew him well enough by now to know he was a bit pissy to have the center of attention stolen away.

“Alastor, this is Becca, my bestie beyond life and death! We used to call each other soulmates when we were alive. I still think we are, honestly! Becca, this is Alastor, the radio demon! Remember when I texted you about my research?! I found him!” She made her excitement obvious, and she could hear his teeth grind for a second. Did this angel know his human life as well?!

Becca looked the demon up and down with disapproval, “I heard you sold your soul to him.” She then grabbed Zariah by the shoulders and shook her about! Zariah went lax into the motion, making it look more vigorous and aggressive than it actually was. “Make! Better! Decisions!” Zariah laughed along at the shaking, making her seem even more mad to everyone.

Alastor found it quite charming, but also felt a tinge of rage at this woman for laying hands on his pet. He only held back doing anything because it seemed she genuinely was enjoying the attention.

“Beccaaaa!” Zariah finally stopped her when she'd had enough. “I may not be smart, but I'm not dumb! I know how to word a deal to not get burned. Al won't hurt me, anymore than Lucifer would hurt you.”

After hearing this, Alastor couldn't resist chiming back in. If she was really something special to Lucifer, it would benefit him to win her over. If only to torment the king of hell.

“Miss Becca, I believe we've gotten off on the wrong foot. I only kill sinners. Even in life, that was true. So please, do calm down. I would never harm my darling. She is more precious to me than you realize.” His words sounded so genuine.

She narrowed her eyes at him, “Fine, but I don't trust you. If you hurt her, I'm coming for your head!” Her gaze held a fire that made him feel Inspired! He laughed maniacally and his grin grew more lively!

“Agreed, if I fail my dearest, you have every right to seek restitution on her behalf.”

“Oookay, well this was exciting!” Charlie jumped in, “But now let's focus back in on some positives!” She wanted to stop any potential fights before they broke out.

“Right, Zariah, I actually wanted to ask you something really important. Remember how you promised to be my maid of honor if I ever got married?” Becca then held up her left hand, a bright red engagement ring on her finger.

Zariah squealed and hugged her tight, “Yes! He proposed?! I'm so happy for you!!”

______________

After catching up for a bit, Zariah had Alastor follow to her room, she still had that second present to give him.

He sat on the edge of her bed, and got nervous when she was looking underneath it for his present. “Ah, isn't that where you said you keep your… lewd materials?”

“What better place to hide a present than a place I know you'd loathe to look.” She laughed, and he couldn't help chuckling with her.

“Very true… my clever little fox.”

She came back up holding a wrapped box the size of a shoe box.

“This present… I had to sneak into heaven to get it for you. I did that as soon as my wings had grown back.” She looked a little nervous as she said this, and his eye twitched in irritation, just as she'd worried it would. “I know, you didn't want me to leave the hotel without you, but… when you see what it is, you'll understand.”

He held out his hands for the box. “My pet, do I need to remind you who is supposed to be in charge here? Our deal plainly states I am to be your caretaker. I feel I may need to punish you if you keep acting so recklessly.” He was extremely annoyed as he opened the box. Inside was a book, a letter, and a cellphone. But not a voxtech one. It didn't look like any of the models in hell.

He set the box on the bed and started with the letter. He opened it, and his hands immediately began to tremble as he recognized the handwriting. It was from his mother!

“Dear Alastor, I heard about where you ended up. And while it hurts to hear, I gotta admit I'm also relieved. I finally understand why you haven't visited or called all these years. I still love you, you're still my sunshine on a rainy day. I gave your little girlfriend a copy of my recipes. Just like I planned to if you ever got married one day. She's such a sweetheart, and I know you'll take good care of her. Now you call me up on that heaven phone sometimes and let's chat once and awhile. Don't break your old lady's heart! With love, Mama”

Tears fell onto the page. She… she still… he could call her! He looked at the phone in the box, it was from heaven then! And the book! He set down the letter and took up the book, opening it to find more of her handwriting. These were all her recipes with notes and stories about him added in. He looked up at Zariah through blurry tear filled eyes, she was a true angel. His personal angel. What did he do to deserve her?

“Al, do you want some time alone to talk to your mom?” Her voice was soft and caring, but not pitiful. He sighed and dried his eyes.

“I've never used a cell phone before. How do I…” He picked up the device and looked it over. She smiled and showed him which buttons turned it on and showed that his mother's number was already saved and labeled as “Mama”.

He then went to his room to have a very… difficult chat…

#hazbin hotel #alastor's pet #alastor x oc #ace alastor #alastor x reader #aroace alastor #alastor #platonic alastor x reader #fallen apple #lucifer morningstar #charlie morningstar #Alastor's Leash

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writing-in-lesbian · 8 months

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A Heiress in love. Pt. 6

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff / Female Reader Tags: angst, fluff, Translations: Hainofi = princess // Strik sis [Strisis] = little sister // Ai hod yu in = I love you // Ste yuj = Stay strong // Yu laik ai kru = You are my people // Oso laik wonkru = We are one clan // Ai hod you in seintaim = I love you too // Em pleni = enough // Ai laik Heda = I’m the commander // Jomp em op en you jump ai op // Attack her and you attack me. Chapter synopsis: As the enemies get closer, our new appointed commander embarks on a much personal journey.

A/N: This story keeps sending me into new research topics! I hope I’m doing them justice. Also since there aren’t a lot of trigedeslang transistors, everything in italics and underlined would be trigedeslang. Again, I’m partying ways from some canon events in the 100 in order for this to work. Work is not beta’d so all mistakes are mine.

Chapter 6 - The prince, the princess and death.

Tuesday 03:30 a.m.

That’s what you think the time it’s based on the stars illuminating the sky. You observe Wanda sleeping peacefully close to the table where you left her, having you decided to meditate a little.

Your soul is restless, for some reason, you can’t stop thinking about the impending war and the consequences it might have, you make a mental note to send Henry a message tomorrow night, the device for communications being at your chambers, just to ask him how’s everything on their side.

The night is silent.

It should feel peaceful but it’s thick with anticipations of something you quite don’t understand. A lot has happened in a few days, and the constant changing of things does nothing to calm your mind. You think of your family, especially your mother, How many battles and wars has she seen already in her life? She deserves a quiet life, For years she was just surviving, making amends with death but then your mom quite literally fell from the sky and well, they both deserve a quiet life already. Haven’t they suffered enough?

Your mind travels to the redhead close to you and how you went from wishing to know her to being betrothed. Funny how sometimes the universe chooses to give us what we wanted. You notice her slim figure and, think how much harder all of this is being for her, and, not for the first time, you wish you could do more, be more, for those you love and care about.

Wondering as well about your other guests, they will probably leave tomorrow sometime during the day, hoping Pietro or Natasha could stay a little bit more, for Wanda’s sake. Taking your eyes off Wanda you look at the sky and the moon, shining bright above you, making her best effort to bring solace to your query mind.

Raven told you once that your mind thought 800 thoughts per millisecond, never shutting up and it would be a good thing for Lexa to start training you on how to effectively lessen them. You should have paid more attention to your lessons, maybe if your mother had been the one to show you instead of Octavia, you would have studied more, ‘cause you definitely want that state of mind right now.

In a few hours, your party will leave for Tondc, despite the political air it has, that’s where you’ll go to get your tattoo done, right at Becca’s bunker. You’re still amazed at how a lot of things changed when it comes to the Commander rituals, thanks to your mother and her rules.

Closing your eyes again, you try to concentrate, inhaling and exhaling slowly, one, two, three times, but before you can reach the fourth inhalation you hear Wanda whining. Your instinct and need to protect her takes over you and you go to her side immediately. Later when you are questioned, you will recall seeing the red wisps coming from her hands but claim you didn’t notice until it was too late.

You touch her shoulder trying to wake her up and receive a blast of red magic, that, upon impact does feel a little weird, but is enough to send you flying and crashing against one of the bigger rocks on the wall. You have to thank Raven for teaching you to cover your head when being sent flying and crashing from explosions. That summer you spent with her and she used you as a dummy test (to the displeasure of your mothers), is proving to be effective now.

Still, the hard impact is enough to leave you unconscious. … … … … … … … … …

You awake (or regain consciousness) to the sound of screaming. Trying as quick as you can, you force your body to get up, opening your eyes but the air is strong, making it harder for you to see, so you instantly close them again.

Putting your hand covering your eyes you walk towards what you think is the table, squinting your way out.

“Wanda?” You scream but your voice can’t be heard.

The noises are too loud.

You somehow see the smoke rising from the way the Tower is. Feeling your stomach drop, you turn and try to look for Wanda but all you see is fire where the table used to be, you still make your way back to it.

“Wanda, where are you?” But the clouds are covering the moon and there’s a lot of fog, making it impossible to see beyond a certain range, you’re not sure if it’s from the smoke or the chill air, but is starting to get into your lungs. Covering your mouth you reach the table.

Nothing.

BOOM

The loud explosions close to you are enough to destroy the rock walls and send you to the floor looking for cover. Eyes closed, not making a move, you hide behind the hidden part of the table, covering your mouth, trying not to make a sound with your coughs. Inhaling, and exhaling, you calm your state but are still stiff as a rock, you’re not sure where the explosions are coming from or if someone is near.

“Wanda, where are you?” You try again, thinking as hard as you can this time, remembering how it seemed to work a few hours ago, hoping it gets to her again.

Silence.

Eery silence.

Not even the wind makes a noise.

Opening one eye you can’t see any fire or smoke. In fact, everything seems exactly as it was before the explosions, the moon and the stars shining bright above you.

Carefully, you start getting up from your crouching position, sword at the ready. What the hell is going on? Your (e/c) eyes scan the area, looking for a sign of Wanda, at this point, for someone, anybody to appear.

“Welcome… Strisis” you remember well that voice.

It lulled you to sleep many times, but it’s impossible for you to hear it again right now. Turning carefully, one foot at a time, forcing your body to move, refusing to opening your eyes. Counting one to three in your head, you slowly bring light to your vision.

Truth is, it’s not impossible as it seems.

He’s standing there in all his glory, just like you used to remember him. Clad in all black, his blue eyes contrasting his sandy blonde hair, but his hair is well stylish and not as sweaty as normal, due to all the training he’d done. He’s sporting a small smile, the same one he reserved just for you.

“Aden” a whisper you’re not sure it came from your lips.

Tentatively you take a step, he’s the same height you remember him, except this time, you are taller than him. Although you’re not as tall as your mother, you somehow reached Clarke’s height, still, Aden, as you see him now, is shorter than you.

“I have been waiting for you” yet he doesn’t move nor make any intent to come closer. You look at your surroundings, but nothing seems different than when you entered this place.

“How… what… is it really you?” You refuse to believe what’s in front of you. The reality of having him here could mean just one thing.

“I am” he still doesn’t move.

“I don’t understand… am I?”

“Your betrothed holds a lot of power”

You frown at the mention of Wanda. Where is she anyway?

“No need to worry Sistris, despite unconsciously trying, she cannot enter where we are”

“What?” The fog in your brain is going away slowly. You recall the night, meditating, Wanda whining…

And the red sparks.

“We’re in my mind?”

“Not quite Y/N, we are in something similar to the City of Lights. I’m guessing this was a result of her”

“Wanda?”

“Is that her name? I always wondered. Mother used to call her the Lady with magic hands, not the best phrase is you ask, no wonder mom almost choked on her water”

His laugh is remarkable and something you wished to hear more often when he was alive. Wait, your mothers knew Wanda had magic? Is that why they accepted Stark’s offer? But, if they know she has magic, and certainly all her clan know, why would ask for your union? You don’t hold anything compared to Wanda’s abilities, so what can you bring to the table?

“A lot more of what you think sistris"

Continuing to ignore him, for your own sake, a lot of things haven’t made a lot of sense so trying to search for it, under the circumstances will just bring you a massive headache.

“You said we’re in the City of Lights but is not my mind”

“I said, we are in something similar. This is still part of your mind. Lady Maximoff can’t enter this space, more than anyone, you should know and it’s not because of the chaos”

Despite your best efforts, you feel a headache coming. Is that possible? Feeling a headache while inside your head?

“Sunrise is coming sistris”

“Wait, Aden… don’t go” The fear of losing him again makes you act on instinct, recalling the sensation you felt all those years ago, closing the distance an embracing him.

He smells like pine and wood, combined with some citric notes, a little bit different from what you remember. Back in the day, you always mumbled he smelled like rain, Madi taunted him saying you meant it was wet dirt, but to you, it was something fresh.

“I’m here”

Despite the height difference now, you feel his strong arms circling you and comforting you in a way only older brothers can.

You don’t want to let him go and refuse to close your eyes in case he disappears. What if he’s a fragment of your imagination?

“I’m real”

He takes your face and cradles it with his hands, wiping your tears with his thumbs.

“Let us walk” he grabs your hand while you both walk, using his hand as an anchor to calm your rapidly beating heart.

Upon close inspection, you see now the lake where he used to take you and Madi.

“War is coming sistris, and nothing can prevent it, not even chaos itself”

This information is not a surprise to you. Maybe you knew it all along, feared it but hoped for a peaceful resolution. That feeling of emptiness you had and the restlessness you felt prior was a way of rejecting the truth.

“Mother has taught you well. You’re better than I was. No wonder the spirit of the prior commanders is calling and choosing you”

“Aden” the rest of your sentence dies there, hanging in the air because you well know that, if he would still be alive, the commander would have chosen him and you would have been a simple heiress, waiting for her turn to the throne.

Your only reward was avenging his death when you were of age. To be fair, it was a clean duel, Ontari should have known it was coming.

“I never had the flame but I feel them now. And they are all anxious for what’s to come. You have a powerful ally Y/N and your future wife can be the decisive key to win or lose, it will depend on you”

You let go of his hand and stay rooted in place. Wanda have a part in this?

“We are no wiser nor gods to decide someone's destiny”

“And yet here you are telling me I’m the one who will scale the balance”

“I’m just a messenger”

“You’re one of the judges aren’t you?”

“I’m not sistris. I’m here on your request”

What request? What the hell is happening? One sec you’re trying to meditate and the next you’re in some kind of extremely weird dream, talking to your deceased brother like it was a casual walk at your favorite lake.

And now Wanda has come into the equation.

At her mention or more of your thoughts on her, you see red fog covering some bushes at the other side of the lake.

Aden follows your sight.

“Chaos awaits. It destroys and creates, it can never be tamed or understood but it can be beautiful if loved”

“Why do you keep referring to the chaos?”

“Sistris…” his face is filled with genuine curiosity, frowning his eyebrows exactly like your mother. And not for the first time you’re considering, that in fact, you’re the adopted one of the family.

“What Aden?” Yet you don’t look at him.

“Your betrothed has chaos magic”

He’s expecting a reaction from you but it honestly doesn’t affect you the type of magic Wanda has, why everybody is making a huge deal out of this is beyond your mind. The red fog in the meantime seems to get bigger and bigger.

“Y/N” a whisper comes from the bushes.

Your eyes are still glued to the color red, and for a flicker of a second, a silhouette starts forming only to vanish right after. Curios.

“Sunrise is coming and we cannot be late” That makes you turn to him.

You’re back at the ceremonial place but it seems darker, the stars are far gone and the moon seems to hide behind clouds

“Y/N” the voice seems familiar, you hear it so close to you but yet so far.

Aden walks closer to you when he sees the same red fog getting closer and circling the ceremonial place.

“Curios” Aden’s voice seems now like a whisper.

He places his hand on your shoulders, the act making you face him. His face is serious, a carbon copy of your mother.

“There are things I’m not allowed to tell. The knowledge we possess is not carved on stone and there are things that escape my mind as soon as I want to say them”

“Will I see you again?”

“You will know the answer to that”

Feeling a pull, you notice the red fog is close just to you, it plays around your hand. Aden sees it as well.

“Curios indeed” and you feel his strong arms once again around you and you take the opportunity to absorb his scent, to feel secure in his strength.

“I feel the pain in your heart. Mother loves you, don’t doubt it”

Sometimes we just need encouragement to fuel the fire inside of us. Until this point, you never thought simple words could do that.

“Ste yuj sistris” he says almost in a whisper, kissing your forehead. “Yu laik ai kru, Oso laik wonkru. Trust us, trust the commander in you, and tell your betrothed I said that to her as well”

Opening your eyes you see him still in front of you but the red fog is pulling you towards it. You see Aden moving his lips but can’t hear what he says.

“Aden?”

Trying to walk to him your way is stopped by the fog.

“ADEN” you yell and feel the tears falling from your eyes, just like that night many years ago. “ADEN”

“Curios indeed. Ai hod yu in heinofi” his silhouette seems like it’s vanishing from your line of vision, combined with a tinted red from the fog around your body, feeling warm and not unwelcome at all.

And as soon as the words leave his mouth, you’re completely covered in the red fog… and all goes dark. … … … … … … … … …

You can hear noises but they are too loud for you to comprehend what’s happening. Your mind feels foggy and you feel tired, the pain in your head has become a migraine. You can feel the pressure on one side.

Feeling hands on your shoulders, slowly but surely the noises around you have started to get clear and you can identify voices, Madi, Octavia and Natasha are yelling and you feel pretty sure if you were to open your eyes, you can bet they’re doing some type of training.

“Y/N, please wake up”

“I told you to stay away from her!”

“Don’t you dare touch her if you want to keep your hand”

“Aden… don’t go” it scales as a whisper from your lips.

For a moment, you stop hearing Madi and Octavia and all you can feel are the hands on your shoulders, they feel warm and strong. You want to open your eyes but they feel heavy.

Hearing some rustling around you and the warmth from the hands is replaced by another pair, cold and callused, they feel foreign.

“Y/N… what did you say” Madi’s voice seems close now.

Getting up seems difficult. Groaning, you open your eyes, making your body sit up first. There’s a warm sensation on your forehead so you might as well open your eyes. Bringing your hand to the sour of pain you feel the thick and slick liquid. Blood indeed.

“Y/N you’re okay?” Her voice is worried and you detect a flinch of fear in it.

You look at her and see that Octavia has her sword out and is pointing it toward Wanda, Natasha in front of her, protecting her and you feel jealous. Why in the name of Gaia happen?

Madi is the one next to you, kneeling to see if you’re okay. Taking away her hand from touching your forehead, you seek impulse with your hands on the floor and stand up. Madi assisting you quickly. You look at her and nod, indicating you’re well enough to stand on your own, but she refuses to let you go.

“I’m okay”

Yet your words don’t seem to calm any of the situation in place and when you try to go and comfort her, Madi stops you. Seeing this, Wanda tries to go to you instead but is stopped by Natasha, who sees Octavia take one step towards her.

“Care to explain to me what’s happening? None of you should be here” trying your best calming voice.

“I could ask the same Heinofi” It’s been a while since you heard Octavia this exhaled and furious.

Nothing of this makes sense. With all the pain in your head, you find another solution and think as hard as you can, to instruct Wanda, if she can hear you and is ok, to tilt her head. Suddenly you feel a pair of eyes on you, effectively meeting her eye, Wanda’s frown is in place but she tilts her head, slightly but the move is there.

“Madi?” As stern as you can you utter the words.

She hesitates for a moment, probably because she never heard you using that tone or because you know your mother will arrive soon, if not sooner with all this apparent commotion.

“I was setting with Octavia the last supplies you’ll need to use at TonDC, when we heard a loud noise coming from here. When we arrived you were crashed in the rocks bleeding from your head and Wanda was standing a few meters away, her hands clasped around her magic”

“Y/N I wasn’t” but Wanda’s interrupted by Natasha’s hand on her hand. Now you’re the one feeling like seeing red.

“Octavia got the sword out and that’s when Natasha arrived”

“Glad I came when I did, two against one didn’t seem fair”

Now that makes sense. If you were blasted by Wanda’s magic that could explain why you kept seeing red fog but, didn’t Aden say Wanda couldn’t enter your mind? Then how you could see the red, characteristic of Wanda’s magic? Was she trying to enter your mind to see if you were okay, or she was unconsciously doing it?

“Octavia, please take away your sword from my betrothed”

“Can’t do Henofi”

“Octavia. I’m not asking”

That makes Octavia turn to look at you if barely, her eyes never leaving the pair of your guests. Madi’s hold on your body is doing nothing to keep you calm.

“Y/N I don’t think you understand”

“Octavia, em pleni!” And is the stern in your voice what makes Octavia fully look at you and Madi to loosen her grip on you.

“You vowed to protect and obey me”

“I vowed to protect the commander” Out of the corner of your eye you see Wanda taking a few steps out of Natasha’s reach, her eyes although guarded have a flicker of fear in them.

“Ai laik Heda, you like it or not,” you say between teeth. Masking your pain and foggy mind.

Funny things happen when the most calm and peaceful people raise their voices and utter strength into them. Madi lets you go but Octavia has difficulty relinquishing her guard and stance. You see the anger behind her eyes and finally, she puts her sword back in her scabbard.

“Yu laik ai kru” You speak these words towards Wanda specifically but mean to extend them towards Natasha and her clan as well.

Madi and Octavia look at you.

“Oso laik wonkru” you speak to them.

Hearing you speak trigedeslang is so foreign, since you barely use it, They’re more used to hearing from other people but not you, it makes them realize what the words you spoke convey.

“You are my people. We are one clan” you say for the sake of Wanda and Natasha and to make your stance very clear.

“War is imminent”

“Sistris”

“No Madi, it is. Aden told me”

“Aden?” Madi looks at you.

You can’t even if you tried, explain everything that happened inside your head (or outside) you’re still not sure where that place was or if you’ll go again.

“What happened was an accident. I startled Wanda. We cannot be divided. Ai laik Heda ”

The air feels heavy, and the implications of what you said, especially to Octavia, linger in the air. They never have seen you like this, Madi has a newfound respect for you if her kneeling in front of you indicates it. Octavia scans you, her scowl present but kneels.

“Jomp em op en you jump ai op”

“You are right daughter” You turn to see your mothers enter. Lexa was clad in her red stash and riding attire. Clarke is wearing a green cloak, you didn’t think she will travel with you.

“Octavia, Madi, rise"

“War is imminent. Aden has spoken to us”

What?

“Come Y/N, your ascension ceremony should take place today at noon”

Clarke looks at you and her eyes carry so much weight and sorrow.

“Mom?”

She just opens her hands, the flame is nested between the metal box you dreaded to see. What you don’t take into consideration is that there are two little boxes, meaning Wanda will get chipped too.

“Y/N, a flame-keeper has not been in our clans for so many years. Times are changing and for us, it changes as well in our traditions”

“Interesting use of words, Lexa. Remind me to learn to be as political and coherent as you” Stark's voice comes out of nowhere and suddenly you see a red suit floating. It’s close to the floor but you might have imagined it, you certainly will be confused after the blast.

“Natasha, be a dear and take the second box. You have been appointed to be the flame keeper, isn’t that exciting?”

So that’s a no on Wanda chipped but wait. Natasha?'

“With due respect Heda, I will use my right to duel and challenge Duchness Romanoff for the place of the flame keeper”

You all turn to see Octavia slicing her hand in a way that allows the hand to bleed minimally. Before anyone can say anything Natasha’s raspy voice accepts it.

“Lexa?” You hear your mom speak.

And then all goes silent, the calmness you felt before is there and you don’t have to look to see that Wanda has taken your hand and has interlaced your fingers… nor do you see the red magic coming from her hands and taking you once again into darkness.

-/-/-/-/-/

Tag List: @spongebobtentacles @wandamaximoff727 @cristin-rjd @aawake-atnight @msromanoffswife @juno-verse @wandastan-2 @wannabe-fic-reader @cd-4848

#ao3 author #a heiress in love #cross posted on ao3 #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #ao3 fanfic #wanda maximoff x you #they #the 100 crossover

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sentimentalkeyboard · 5 months

Note

Ok so…I’m curious about this Becca Calistor girl👀…cuz hear me out, she kinda-

*COUGH COUGH*

anyways I wanna know more about her character! :D so go on hunny, info dump me about this mysterious gal✨😌

[NO CAUSE SHE'S PROBABALY A HOT SECOND AT BEING ONE OF MY FAV CHARACTERS IM WRITTEN OUT SO FAR Dawn's first teehee]

NOW... Let's bring miss Becca Calistor to the stage! ✨️

•Becca was born to a family that had no care for her. She never knew her father, and her mother was one of the leads in a ring of brothels and hotels around Disturbia. Her mama is sort of a 'Mother Gothel' type woman in how she raised Becca, leaving the caring and affection to the other coven ladies [deemed her 'sisters'] while she taught and raised Becca to be a little errand runner and servant to the higher ups around them.

•And Becca being a blue eyed blonde beauty, her mother always telling how lucky she was to get her looks so she's a perfect offering as a bride once she's older.

•Given she was born unintentionally, Becca was forced into a temporary bond till she is old enough to marry and bond with the big boss lady of the whole rings' firstborn son. But until then, she's under the dreaded protection, and trapped their for a good long while.

●That was until she met Daniel- or Danny for short! Danny was a vampire who'd taken a very quick intrigue to the young girl who seemed to quietly follow him around as he went through brothel quarters and it didn't take long for him to take a liking to her.

●Daniel soon became something of and older brother to Becca, and even promised to run away with her and take her somewhere safe where she could be a kid, and if she'd let him, when she felt old enough he'd turn her into a vampire, and be bonded to him in familial blood.

🖤💙🖤💙

•Becca is human, and the only human of the large coven she now lives with. She works as some sort of hunter for them so they don't have to do any dirty work. Wether it be to kill off completion or to get them a meal, she doesn't really care, as long as she gets paid.

•Becca isn't necessarily owned anymore, but she isn't free either. Her brother died before he could've given up his blood, and she wasn't ready to be turned anyhow, continuing to live her life as a human while working alongside her coven leader like a dog waiting for a command.

•She knew Dawn when they were younger! They have some... History... 👀

•She's heavily inspired by David for The Lost Boys, a lot of her personality leans toward his, even if she's a bit more aggressive and gruesome.

•She has a prosthetic robot leg! She lost hers in a bear trap while trying to run away from the brothel when she was younger.

•She has a hell hound. Well, it was Danny's, but the dog is now her caretaker and trusty friend. His name is Ozzy and he's a big ol German shepherd.

•She also has a horse named Vegas, and a bat named Fang. All her old pets She hasn't seen in quite a while after she left Danny's coven once he died.

#Literally love her you don't understand #SHES MY BABYYYY #MY EVIL SASSY LITTLE BABY #cherry answers #cherry rambles #ask #artists on tumblr #original characters #oc #they bite!#art #80s #they bite! a ballad of vampiric disease

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zenaidamacrouras1 · 11 months

Note

Also, that being said, if you ever feel the urge to add snippets to the Backhoe universe please do 🫡🫡🫡🫡💖

I do have the urge to write some Backhoe snippets but I also need to manifest free time when I am not so deeply brain dead tired I fall asleep immediately which has been difficult as of late.

But I was just thinking today that I kinda want to write them on 4th July a year later after the first community fireworks show they attended together?

They're officially engaged now and last year everyone had kinda thought Steve was Becca's boyfriend but he's actually Bucky's fiance so how do they navigate that when half the town comes up to them and is like, "oh it's the guy from Brooklyn!" And then tell Bucky wedding bells are going to be in the air soon, is he ready for that?

And they look significantly at Becca and it's supposed to be a sorta low key sexist joke about how Becca is getting married to some guy from Brooklyn and Bucky's expected to be protective of his sister's virtue. And honestly it makes sense on paper that they'd assume that.

Becca is the one who lives in Boston for college and is more likely to have met some kind of skinny artist city boy to bring home, but anyone with eyes willing to really look could tell from a mile away while riding a bucking bronco that Bucky is the one who is running headlong and desperate to marry the guy from Brooklyn.

So Becca says, "he's ready, but I ain't so sure" and they laugh real hard because they think she's just made a joke like Bucky wants to marry her off to the first guy whose come calling so he has one less sister to take care of and the sassy way she rolls her eyes at Bucky makes everyone say something like, "you got your work cut out for you with all these sisters, Barnes!"

And Bucky says, "Lawwww don't I know it, cain't imagine it otherwise. Busy hands, full heart, as mom always said," which is what his mother always used to say when someone said something like that to her. And the random person walks off.

This interaction repeats itself in various iterations a dozen or more times over the evening. But every now and then someone wanders over to say hi to the Barnes conglomeration picnic blanket and immediately clocks Steve and Bucky for a young couple that's so in love they're about to burst.

Like Mrs. Wilson's pastor, who pulls Bucky up out of his chair and into a bear hug, whispering something into Bucky's ear that no one else can hear.

He let's Bucky go with a broad grin and a hearty slap on the back and a wink for Steve. "You got your work cut out for you with this one, Steven," Mrs. Wilson's pastor booms in his low voice with a wink. Bucky's eyes are glossy with a few tears from whatever the pastor whispered to him and Steve is overwhelmed with how beautiful his fiance (FIANCE!!) looks.

"Busy hands, full heart," Steve says, and Bucky's eyes get even shinier, and Steve really wants to kiss Bucky, but they are surrounded by Bucky's entire county so he doesn't.

It's the first year Poppy doesn't fall asleep at the fireworks show. Bucky almost cries realizing she's growing up, and he doesn't have to carry her to the van. But on the other hand she's 4 inches taller and a fair bit more than 4 pounds heavier than last year so he's kind of relieved he's not lugging her the half a mile back to the van. So it's complicated.

After they get home and get all the girls upstairs for bed, Bucky asks Steve if he wants to go on a walk.

They don't make it too far before Steve grabs Bucky and presses him hard against a tree, all strong hands and desperate lips. It's all a dream until they try and get too creative and fall in the creek.

Some time later they stumble back to the house laughing and giddy and exchanging lazy debauched kisses with wet hair and their shirts off and pants barely done back up (because the creek caused a pause but was not sufficient to cool them off).

Bucky stops up short and freezes because Hannah and Becca are sitting on the front porch, drinking ice tea and chatting in the dark out on the porch swing.

"It's after midnight, y'all should be in bed," Bucky says automatically.

Becca let's out a peal of laughter. "You are not in a position to lecture others about who should be in a bed for their evening's planned activities."

#Backhoe #I wrote a snippet!#stucky au #steve rogers x bucky barnes #becca barnes #So many sisters #I'm on vacation #Laying in bed #But now my thumbs hurt from typing

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ghostblazewrites · 4 months

Text

Children of the Forest Intro

BASIC

genre: fantasy, adventure,

status: finished first draft, editing

key themes: found family, exploration, fantasy, nature, mythology, magical realism, siblings, childhood friends, nostalgia, parasites, at this point i'm just listing things in my book i'll stop

𖡼 𖤣 𖥧 𖡼 𓋼 𖤣 𖥧 𓋼 𓍊 𖡼 𖤣 𖥧 𖡼 𓋼 𖤣 𖥧 𓋼 𓍊 𖡼 𖤣 𖥧 𖡼 𓋼 𖤣 𖥧 𓋼 𓍊 𖡼 𖤣 𖥧 𖡼 𓋼

STORY

Two boys are born in a willow tree inside a forest brimming with magic. They become obsessed with uncovering the secrets of this forest, exploring and researching the wilderness along with their childhood friends. When the forest suddenly vanishes and then reappears in struggling condition, the boys are left wondering what happened to their home, and if they can save it.

CHARACTERS

Theo Winter (he/him)

Impulsive, always-smiling, and just a tad bit reckless. He's the class clown, never one to take things seriously and it backfires. a lot. Theo's just having fun ok? Not his fault the god of the forest decided his body would be perfect as its puppet!

age: 17

quote: “I highly doubt any of what you said is gonna be a problem,” Theo said distractedly, then grabbed onto Kian’s backpack urgently as another thought struck him. He was always active, and always filled with energy. Kian didn’t think he ever saw Theo without a grin on his face or his blue bandanna off his head.

quick facts

he's trans (ftm)

adhd king

playboy (don't worry, he learns very quickly this isn't good)

inspired by oliver queen and lance mcclain

heart of the forest

Kian Winter (he/him)

Intelligent, oblivious, and always locked in his own world, he's always operating at 100% and extremely determined/stubborn. the inventor of the group, his tech assists his research on the forest.

age: 17

quote: John’s veins bulged from his neck, his eyes slitted. He turned slowly to look at him and his voice was low. “You’re dead.” “I’m very much alive. It’s Mothsong who is dead. I think.” Kian rushed to pick up his robotic insect’s limp body from inside the mess. “I’m sure I can fix this–”

quick facts

autism king

inspired by zane (ninjago) and gansey from the raven boys!!

always wearing his goggles and his jacket with a million pockets in them- with almost any gadget you can think of

gayyy

always known as the younger brother of theo even though they're technically twins and no one knows who's older

brains of the forest

Rue Ezeani (she/her)

Quiet, sarcastic, and always willing to stand up for what she believes is right, she's a punk who got kicked out of her home, and she's brutally protective of her friends. also, flowers grow on her quite a lot.

age: 16

quote: “Poverly, you don’t know shit about me,” Rue growled, taking a step towards them. “I’ve been to this forest longer than you, it’s more important to me than you’ll ever know. Of course I was working to get it back.”

quick facts

has freckles

trans lesbian

first friend kian and theo made

inspired by blue sargent (wow who could've guessed) and killer frost

eyes of the forest

can play electric guitar

i love her

Becca Hill (she/her)

Smart, cold, and competent, she is known as the 'normal' one of the group, although she has her issues, don't worry. Gets skeptical and annoyed easily, but connects with nature and animals very well. Natural-born leader.

age: 17

quote: “Oh my god, you guys can’t just break ceilings and destroy classrooms. Do you have any idea how much those cost?” Becca pressed her lips together, concerned.

quick facts

'token straight friend' (sure...)

inspired by laurel lance and pip fitz amobi!!

has a pet dog, turtle, and bird

complicated relationship with theo

ears of the forest

Cove Poverly (they/them)

If you thought Theo was impulsive, think again. They're a fighter, with a short temper and witty humour. Chews gum, tobacco, straw, lollipops...they like to keep busy. Mastered the 90's + 2020 aesthetic at the same time? A reaaal southern kid.

age: 16

quote: “Trouble in hetero relationships. Can't relate," Cove casually chewed on a piece of gum. They brushed past Theo, picked up a twig, and began drawing something on a nearby rock.

quick facts

heterochromia! (one eye is blue, one eye is hazel)

inspired by... tbh i have no idea where cove came from they just popped up

very blunt/no filter

nonbinary

m e n

likes arguing with rue (affectionately, they hate each other)

fists of the forest

Amora (she/her)

Mysterious, sassy and flirtatious imp, lives deep within the forest and a master of manipulation. Is she truly evil? Who knows? Some hate her, some love her, but no one trusts her.

age: ?

quote: Amora grinned, her eyes a deep mauve in this lighting. “No games, Thorny. I’m just here to help you save the forest. It’s my job.” She stretched the last part, singing it with a tilt of her head.

quick facts

wears a red cloak

inspired by darcy wu and parisa kamali

seduces like half of the characters

she has elfish ears

twig horns and long black nails

also has ties to a god/spirit...

Miiba (it/its)

no picrew for this mf but basically this is the god of the forest, it's a big pain in the ass for our main characters because there's...occasional possessions and flora growing everywhere on their clothes/body. it has questionable morals due to being immortal and its sole purpose is to preserve the forest. it doesn't have a corporeal form, instead bouncing its consciousness around any creature/living thing in the forest (plants, trees, animals)

AESTHETIC

FACTS

𖡼 i wrote this entire book during nanowrimo!! i won, but i added 13k after november so it's only 63k right now, but i am editing to make it longer. it took me two months to finish draft 1

𖡼 i came up with the idea during summer of 2022, based on a playlist that a close friend gave me - they said boom, make a story, and i did!!

𖡼 the story is set in the fictional town of pinevale, canada, and i do not have a name for the forest yet (i should probably get on that so it's less vague when i talk about the forest

𖡼 it's third person and the POV switches between kian, theo, rue and miiba, and amora for like one pov (i'll probably make it more consistent in the 2nd draft)

LINKS

spotify playlist

pinboard

𖡼 𖤣 𖥧 𖡼 𓋼 𖤣 𖥧 𓋼 𓍊 𖡼 𖤣 𖥧 𖡼 𓋼 𖤣 𖥧 𓋼 𓍊 𖡼 𖤣 𖥧 𖡼 𓋼 𖤣 𖥧 𓋼 𓍊 𖡼 𖤣 𖥧 𖡼 𓋼

if you want to know more, please tell me! this took SO LONG but i loved doing it. i'll probably do it for my other wips!!

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ruvviks · 8 months

Note

saw u tag one of ur posts as james and 👀 hehehe i want to hear more abt jim :3c

(ofc only if u want to!!!)

EHEHEHE THANK YOU i wrote a little introduction post about her here so that would be a good place to start at >:^)

so tl;dr james is aubrey's twin sister and she's a private investigator and security guard at the club bodytalk in downtown night city! she mostly works there as a bouncer because she's good at throwing punches and throwing people out, but she's also in charge of overseeing any ongoing gigs from aubrey's fixer business and sending in reinforcements if necessary (or she just goes out there to deal with the problem herself)

she used to be on the wilder side when she was younger, drinking and doing drugs much like aubrey but instead of it leading her down the path of partying and one night stands she got in trouble with the ncpd a LOT and she mostly just got into so many fights. she's not like that anymore nowadays, after getting married she settled down and after her divorce she mostly just wanted to vibe. she's not made for a 9 to 5 job and that's why her current occupations are perfect for her because she can work in the evening hours at the club and do the investigator stuff on the side :)

she ends up getting together with luna at some point a bit later in the story! they first properly meet when luna starts working at bodytalk a bit more and grow closer quickly when james gets injured after a gig and she ends up going to luna's shop because it's the closest ripperdoc she could find. need to spin them around more but things are happening in here alright

some more facts because i love her

james uses she/he pronouns, in the sense of mainly she/her but if you wanna use he/him for her she doesn't give a fuck and also actively encourages it when people ask her :) this is mirroring aubrey's he/she pronouns, he has the same kind of relationship with his pronouns. the two of them often jokingly say they swap pronouns every other week LMAO

she's a few minutes younger than aubrey but also a single cm taller and she has decided to make it her entire personality. as is her right

james has pretty bad anger issues which are entirely a result of her past, with her father being a piece of shit and her mother not taking care of her children at all. she's very protective of becca, her older sister, who took care of her younger siblings throughout their whole childhood

james nowadays lives together with rikki, her younger half-sister :D rikki basically moved in after aubrey left for elysium (spaceship) and when he returns, he goes to live together with leon which means rikki can stay with her older sister. the valentine siblings all love each other very much basically and don't mind sharing a living space at all, it's what got them through their childhoods and especially after aubrey has been trapped in space for nearly a year they all agree it's important to stick together as much as possible

#asks #mutuals #hibernationsuit #ask:james #oc asks #THANK U SM i love her she's my cringe fail losergirlboyfriend #aubrey and his siblings are part of cassidy's storyline btw which has nothing to do with the in-game events of cyberpunk!#cassidy is an assassin who goes to hunt down a gang leader but that doesn't really work out for him #skip ahead a few years and cassidy and said gang leader are together and they're hired to do a gig on the spaceship elysium #and that's where they meet aubrey and then after that gig they all go back to night city and aubrey gets the club with his sisters #and starts his fixer business :) and that's how all those different storylines all come together basically tee hee #the in-game events of cyberpunk are the story of vincent and the whole clown brigade. and the broker fic takes place after all that :)#so far the two storylines are parallel to each other with a few touching points here and there and i'm planning to keep it that way #at least for now. who knows what will happen #hope that makes sense. there's so much going on here HJGDFKGJHJDFG

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poetrysings · 2 months

Text

— whoa! REBECCA HENNING just stole my cab! not cool, but maybe they needed it more. they have lived in the city for TWENTY-FIVE YEARS, working as a/an OB/GYN. that can’t be easy, especially at only 41 YEARS OLD. some people say they can be a little bit RETICENT and RANCOROUS , but i know them to be PROTECTIVE and PERSUASIVE. whatever. i guess i’ll catch the next cab. hope they like the ride back to QUEENS! —

spotify pinterest musings visage connections

BASICS

full name: rebecca imani henning

nickname: becs, becca

age/date of birth: 43 / nov 12th, 1980

zodiac sign: scorpio ☼ virgo ☾ aries ↑

gender identity: cis woman (she/her)

hometown: manchester, england

current location: queens, new york

time in town: on and off twenty-five years

sexual orientation: pansexual

occupation: ob/gyn

PERSONALITY

labels: the prodigy, the opaque, the catalyst

positive traits: longanimous, vehement, protective, incisive, meticulous, persuasive, assertive

negative traits: intransigent, reticent, brittle, distrusting, rancorous

hobbies: researching, hiking, horse-riding, scrapbooking, art collecting, candle-making

languages spoken: english, french, a bit of latin

instruments played: none

favorite color: blue, pink, red

favorite food: okra soup, ghormeh sabzi, chocolate mousse

APPEARANCE

height: 5'2

distinguished characteristics: n/a

tattoos: a couple phrases along her body in different languages from her travels

piercings: earlobes and helix

right or left-handed?: right-handed

RELATIONSHIPS

parents: anthony henning (surgeon), freyja henning (stepmother, surgeon), alexa mahama (oncologist & activist), nicholas gold (lawyer)

sibling(s): four in total, one younger sibling, one half sibling, two step siblings

children: redacted, a thirteen year old boy named Henry

pet(s): a black cat named nova

BULLET POINTS

tw: cheating, divorce, teen pregnancy

Alexa met Anthony on a warm evening on her very first day in Oxford's medical program, when she accidentally entered the fourth trimester class instead of her own as a freshman. Others would've backed out immediately, apologize and go to her own class to start their year right. Alexa however, quick to her feet and noticing her mistake the minute she entered, took a seat next to an amused Anthony and proceeded to take the class alongside the others, making questions and answering a few whenever she was allowed to. Anthony, two years her senior, was impressed not only by her beauty but her assertiveness and cleverness, inviting her for a coffee and a private tour of the campus. Quick enough, the couple fell in love and married after Anthony graduated college and started medical school. Their plan was to wait a few years, get medical school done and get halfway through internships and residencies before even considering having children but when a year and a half after their wedding they were surprised by a positive pregnancy test, the couple couldn't help but rejoice.

Rebecca was born during a rainstorm in November in Manchester's Royal Infirmary, the very same hospital her father was making his residency in. She lead a very normal life for a child who has two med students as her parents. They were barely present throughout her formative years, forcing her to spend most of her time with her grandparents, aunts and uncles who were graceful enough to accommodate her on their itinerary, but whenever her parents were around if even for a short amount of time, they always tried to make the most out of their time together. They were strict with the rules they had set for her firstborn, but always made her feel loved. And the joy only multiplied when the second-born, Rebecca's younger sibling, was born.

Things started getting complicated by the time Rebecca reached teenage-hood. Her father, a now renowned general surgeon started to behave oddly. He'd claim he had long shifts and rather sleep at work and don't come for for a week straight and when he was in the house, his sole attention would be on his phone, leaving his family aside. Alexa loved her family as it was, loved the good and the bad and claimed she was fine with this sudden shift in her husband, claiming it was only phase, shutting down everyone who dared to suggest Anthony was being unfaithful or was disrespecting his own family until the day everything blew up: Anthony came home one night to pack his stuff and tell his then wife he was leaving, that he had been cheating on her with a colleague and she was pregnant with his baby. Alexa was left brokenhearted, completely disassociating herself from her family and burying herself in work. Rebecca, being a young teenage girl with no supervision or care, began rebelling. What once was the perfect daughter in the eyes of her parents became a nightmare that failed classes, skipped school and hung out with the wrong type of crowd, a scream for help that caused the relationship with her parents to break slightly with every fight they had.

At age 15 Rebecca started to date her very first boyfriend. He was charming, quick.witted and payed the attention to her her parents didn't, so she fell. Hard. She loved him for two years, through good and bad. The couple even began planning a future together where they could move to the USA once they were done with their high school years, dreams of freedom away from their homes and a life of their own. All their dreams were crushed down the day Rebecca found out she was 5 months pregnant after fainting in PE. She told her parents, hoping they would support her and guide her through the process, that they could find an answer as to what to do next but was only met with harsh words, threats and hurtful words that claimed she was on her own from that moment on. She went to tell her then boyfriend and found him on someone else's arms, breaking her heart into a million pieces.

Rebecca then made a decision, since she had nothing left in England and it was only her and the baby she carried against the world, she took all the money she had saved from allowances and summer jobs and bought herself a ticket to New York, leaving her former life behind. She worked tirelessly for the last four months of her pregnancy to get her ged and find a small apartment in queens, a place to make a home for her and the child on the way. And then, the baby came. She had promised herself she'd be a better parent than her own, that she would care for her child more than she cared for herself and she did her best. For three months, Rebecca didn't sleep; going from work to caring for her child to bring them the bare necessities— until it stopped working. Her breaking point was the day her baby got sick right as her landlord cut her electricity and water for being a few months behind on rent. It became painfully obvious that if she kept them, there was a chance her child wouldn't survive. Keeping her promise, she did what she thought was best for them; gave them up for adoption praying they would find a family that could give them what she couldn't.

The decision weighted on her for months, making her stay in bed for months on end, letting herself be absorbed in the darkest pits of inner hell until a light appeared in her way in the form of a friend who encouraged her to leave her bed and do something for herself. She applied to a few universities and was accepted into Brooklyn College for their pre-med program. She worked two jobs and did the entire program in the four years mark, earning a spot in the NYU school of medicine upon graduation with full scholarship to continue her career, things began falling into place, even earning a paid medical residency even before graduating from medical school. Somewhere in between medical school and her residency, Rebecca met the person who would become her husband, Kian Zhang. They were different from anyone else who she had met and she fell harder than ever before. A wedding came sooner than anyone expected it and a pregnancy shortly after; which wasn't easy for Rebecca who was still dealing with what had been of her and her child as a seventeen year old but she did her best to make her new life work.

When her mother called for the first time in over ten years, Rebecca didn't expect it to go well, nor to create a new relationship with her now that they were both mature adults. It took them months to heal the wounds of the past so it really was a surprise when she offered a position on the hospital she worked in, st. mary's hospital, earning over six times what she did in New York. After discussing it with her partner, they decided to take a leap of faith together and move to Manchester, her hometown, to once again start anew. With a family she thought she had lost as a teenager having her back and the one she had formed on her own, she began her journey as an OB/GYN. However, as she began to scale up the ladder and her name became more wildly known and she began gaining notoriety in the medical field worldwide, her personal life began to crumble. With her new busy schedule and other problems the couple had been dragging along, the relationship became a ticking bomb until they couldn't simply handle it anymore. The divorce papers were settled with no fights or blowouts, the love she still harbored for Kian shifting to care and respect to the father of her child. Kian decided to move back to New York and the two decided to try and coparent from different sides of the world best as they could for years, with Rebecca traveling back and forth whenever she could to make sure Henry had a sense of normalcy in his life and didn't have to travel as much himself.

At age 40, Rebecca grew tired of missing the little milestones in her child's life when he was with his father alas, after almost ten years working in st. mary's, the now renowned ob/gyn resigned and decided to move to new york to her own borough, opening her own private practice in manhattan to be closer to her son.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

Oldest child ( any gender / fam / 25 )*

To this day, her biggest regret is giving them up for adoption although a part of her knowns it was for the best as she could not provide them the life she knew they deserved. She has recently contacted a private investigator to find try and find them. Although the outcome and what will happen after she finds them is still unclear, she wants to make sure they are doing fine, see if there's anything she can do to help them, now that she is able to.

Siblings ( any gender / fam )

There's four, total. One legitimate younger sibling (around 37-33), a half sibling (29-30) and two step sibling (ages undefined). She had a chance to meet every one of them during her time in England, forming all sorts of relationships with them. For one reason or another, they have now they found eachother again in New York and it's time to prove that blood is ticker than water, isn't it?

First baby daddy ( male presenting / ? / 43-45 )

They met in England when she was 15 and he was her first love. They truly thought they'd lasted a lifetime together— until the day that she disappeared from the faces of earth without much explanation. There were many rumors as to what happened but one one really knew the truth, not even Rebecca's parents who were too upset to even discuss the matter, only telling their daughter's boyfriend to forget her and start a new life. They used to dream about living together in New York, start a family there and follow their dreams— it would only be poetic justice to have them meet twenty six years later in the place they dreamed of growing old together.

Best friend ( any gender / plat / 40+ )

How they met is unclear, but they have been friends since Rebecca was 17 and arrived to New York, five months pregnant and they have been inseparable since. They've saved Bec's life more times than she's willing to admit by simply being there for her and in return, Rebecca is the most loyal and caring friend anyone could ask for.

New love interest ( any gender / rom )

She promised herself it wouldn't happen again, that her time to let herself fall was over and all that was left was her work, her child and whatever hobbie she'd pick up that month. And yet... It's all very new, who knows where it'll lead? But it gives a special spark to their lives none of them has ever felt before. Could it be love?

Other connections: people who work on the medial field, former classmates, clients, neighbors, friends, one-side crushes, fellow single parents, nannies for Henry whenever she or Kian are busy, the sky's the limit!

#boroughs.intro #📂 ⤷ 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 : 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚌𝚊 / intro

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romanarose · 1 year

Text

Seattle: Chapter 5

Marc Spector X fem! OC

Seattle Masterlist

Part 4 : Part 6

Summary: Rebecca and Marc travel back to Chicago for a funeral, Rebecca and Marc face people from their past, together.

Warnings: References to domestic violence, sexual assault via condom tampering, references to child abuse, shown child abuse (aggressive behavior/manhandling/pain inflicted on teenagers), mentions of miscarriage, inflicting miscarriage, siblings being siblings, victim blaming, Marc and Rebecca are in a bit of a fight, Rebecca got some anger she gotta work on.

Not proof read, this literally took me hours I'm so tired of looking at it

This picture is just so cute asdfgjkl look how mad he is, he’s pouting watching the others fight knowing he’s not supposed to intervene

A/N got my groove back, last chapter sucked ass, this is much better. the flashbacks have tie in with the present, top tier

**********

“Mac, I told you 1000 times you didn’t have to come”

It had been nearly two months at this point. Two months of divorce paper work and filing complaints with the court, getting medical and police records. Jack’s calls and texts to Becca had become none-stop, to the point where the courts ordered all phone communication to go through Matty. No protection or restraining order was granted, however the judge seemed to think Jack “wasn’t an immediate threat”. It still seemed like Rebecca would be granted the divorce and a settlement, Matt and Foggy were good at their job, but the male judge still seemed to take things easy on Jack, despite the overwhelming evidence.

“Oh, yeah, sure, and leave you to deal with him alone? Yeah Beccs, I’m definitely gonna do that” Marc rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “And I told you, that you don’t have to go in the first place.” After several decade of drinking and poor health, Rebecca’s dad died of a heart attack. Marc knew better than most that this does not bring the relief that many might think, but it doesn’t bring the sorrow you’d expect from the death of a parent. It brings both, and it’s confusing as hell. He tried to tell her she didn’t have to go to the funeral or the shiva, but she insisted she had too. Rebecca had lost years to Jack, years of traditions and faith, Marc assumed this was part of her reclaiming it.

Problem was, Jack was going too. Asa invited him. Rebecca refused to tell Asa the brunt of what happened, Marc figured this was out of pride, or embarrassment, but either way, Asa had taken Jack's side in the divorce, as had much of the family. Still, for whatever reason, Rebecca had decided it was her duty to go and help. She had already insta-carted groceries she’d need to feed the family after services. Rebecca wasn’t observing the complete shiva, no she couldn’t take her family that long. Funeral was the evening of their flight, which left at 6 in the fucking morning, then one day of shiva with everyone, Sunday, they’d get lunch with Elias, and her and Marc might spend some time at their old stomping grounds, then head home monday in time for Steven to teach his evening class, and Rebecca would finish out the shiva in her own way. ‘In and out’ she had said, like it was a fucking heist. Somehow, this was more intimidating than any mission he had been on before. Chicago, his dad, her dad, Jack, Asa… it was all overwhelming. Hey mate, I’ll be here, yeah? I can fake your accent pretty well. Maybe not for dad, but enough to get by with the shiva, so it’s too much, let me take over, yeah?

I’ll be fine, Steven, thanks

Marc.

He sighed. Yeah, okay, I’ll let you take the body if I need it.

And just talk to her. She understands. She loves you.

I need to be here for her

I know, but she’s still embarrassed. Allowing her to help you, will help her too. She wants to repay you

She doesn’t have too-

I know, but she wanted to.

“I know you don’t want to come. I can handle Jack and Asa by myself” She insisted, breaking Marc out of his thoughts.

Marc scoffs, they’ve had this argument 100 the last few days since Asa called to tell her her dad passed. “Yeah, right, and leave you to get back together with Jack” He rolled his eyes as he kept walking straight ahead. When he didn’t hear her voice telling him to fuck off, like she had several times since they had been… are they fighting? He turned around to find her glaring at him, arms crossed. He sighs, the bustle of the airport terminal suddenly very loud. “What?”

“That was a dick thing to say” she pointed at him. “And you fucking know it.” Behind her anger was genuine hurt, and Marc didn’t like to see her hurt.

“I’m sorry.”

She softened, but was still on edge. “It’s fine Marc, just… if you’re coming with me, you need to try and behave, or I will not hesitate to kick you out of the shiva.” She was dead serious as she continued walking to their flight. Fuck, Marc needed coffee. He turned to the Starbucks and got in line with Rebecca.

“I know you will, baby” He smirked a bit. “You might be the most terrifying girl I’ve dated.”

“Am I really scarier than Layla?” She asked, smiling at him, then ordering for both of them.

“Hm” he pretended to think it over. “You both have crazy eyes, let's call it a tie”

Marc Elias Spector had been in a lot of situations in his life. Recently, meaning last week, he had agreed to being the avatar for an Egyptian god, because it was slightly better than death. Slightly. But as he sat in Rebecca’s living room with her and her fiance, he wondered if it was too late to choose the other alternative.

Jack didn’t like him. That was okay, he didn’t like Jack. He seemed arrogant, smug, harsh. But the worst part is, Rebecca was nervous. When was the last time he saw Becca nervous? She wasn’t even nervous around her dad. But she was nervous around Jack. She got him food and whiskey and whatever he wanted, and Marc couldn’t quite put his finger on how this felt wrong to him. Rebecca was a caretaker, she took care of Asa, she took care of Marc, and she even took care of her dad in the early years. But this… this felt like serving. This felt like watching Rebecca waitress as he waited for her shift to end.

“So Marc,” Jack starts “Becky tells me you work in Cairo, helping with expeditions?” So that's what she told him. Marc eased a bit, a swell of pride in his chest. Marc and Rebecca didn’t have secrets. Jack and her did.

“Yeah” He nods along with her lie seamlessly. “For now anyway. I tend to go where life takes me”

“Is that why you’re here? Work is too unstable, you need somewhere to crash?” It wasn’t so much what Jack said, but how he said it. He was condescending. Pretty rich boy who had everything laid out for him, felt superior to Marc. Did he know Rebecca’s struggles with housing? Did he make her feel bad for it? Or did she keep that part of her life from him? Was she ashamed of her time homeless, or was she ashamed of Marc?”

Marc felt himself flaring with anger, but he looked at Becca, sitting so far away on the other side of the couch. She could feel the tension. For her, he’d play nice. “Nope” He smiled as best he could. “Just wanted to be here for the wedding” he lied through his teeth.

“I bet you do” Jack smiled. Marc smiled. Becca smiled. Marc swore he saw her mouth ‘fuck’

Silence persisted.

Being in Chicago was not one of Marc’s favorite places to be, but it wasn’t one of the worst. Chicago is a major city, the various bullshit odd jobs he worked would bring him there from time to time, and he got used to being in the vicinity, seeing old sights and the familiar culture. This would be slightly more difficult, as Rebecca’s family was in the same neighborhood as his, but as long as he avoided the surrounding streets to his house, he’d be okay. Rebecca would never ask him to enter that area. She didn’t even ask him to come, honestly. Marc was already going to go, of course, but when he found out Jack was attending the services, he wasn’t going to leave Rebecca alone for a second

This had been… tense, the last few days. There had been times the last two months that they bickered, even fought, but it wasn’t bad. She was hurting, she was suffering. She always apologized, even when she didn’t really need to. That was a byproduct of Jack too. Rebecca was proud, always admitting when she was wong, but never when she wasn’t. Marc allowed her to apologize, picking his battles. She was starting to look more like herself again; color coming back in her face, the chemicals fading out of her hair, allowing it to curl again. She even cut it off again and dyed it closer to her natural color again. She was also acting more like herself, the bickering was evidence of that. But the last few days were different. Marc found himself with a bunch of feelings he couldn’t really discern, an anger in him he didn’t feel comfortable with, an anger that seemed to center around her, and he couldn’t place why.

So he had been distancing himself, not wanting to take his anger out of her in any way, allowing Steven to take the body a majority of the time. Rebecca noticed, but didn’t say anything. He assumed she figured it had to do with going back to Chicago, but there was something else.

When they arrived at Rebecca’s childhood home, he felt the nervousness he often did in their childhood while standing at this very doorstep. Some things never change.

“Marc.” Carl was standing in the doorway. Maybe it’s the memory being distorted by the haze of the past, or maybe he really was towering over Marc. Carl was always tall, that’s where Becca got it. By the end of puberty, Rebecca was an inch taller than Marc, sanding at 5’10. Marc was always on the shorter side, but at 14 he had barely started his growth spurt. Embarrassingly, people thought Rebecca was his older sister in more than one situation. Right now, Marc wished he was taller, stronger, braver. He wanted to fight for her, stand up to her dad, stand up to his mom… but right now, they were both pretty helpless. The most they could do was be there for each other, and protect each other in school. Rebecca’s grades were significantly better, she helped Marc with school so he could avoid getting whipped when grades came in. Likewise, although they never told people they were dating, Marc’s protective grasp on her shoulders out in public and the way they were attached at the hip generally kept her safe from men at school. At 14, he wasn’t exactly the strongest in the high school, but he had absolutely thrown punches for her before. And for other reasons. And for no reason. Point being, although he wasn’t strong, he was known for being a bit crazy. Psycho was thrown around a lot.

“Hello, Mr. Levi” Marc tried his best to be polite. He had seen what Carl had done to Rebecca, and always tried to avoid that, although he suspected he wouldn’t dare, considering his dad's position in the temple. Marc had always told Rebecca he’d talk to his dad for her, get Rebecca and Asa help, but Rebecca had the martyr complex of a catholic. She rationed that Carl only hurt her, not Asa, and being sent to foster care would absolutely hurt him. It wasn’t Marc’s place to make that choice for her, so he minded his business. “Is Becca home?”

Carl looked at him for a moment, considering the boy. “Yeah, she’s in her room, but I think we should have a talk first.” The tone he used was strangely calm, the tone Wendy used before she hurt Marc, it sent a shiver down his spine, but he was in no position to argue, stepping inside the hallway at Carl’s motioning. “What’s going on with you guys.”

Marc had wondered how long until this conversation happened. Elias and Wendy both teased Marc about her, one more gently than the other, but neither malicious. Wendy mostly referred to her as Marc’s “little girlfriend” on good days, or “That Levi girl” on bad ones. His dad hadn’t exactly given him “the sex talk”, school’s lackluster sex ed had covered most of what Marc knew. Not having friends that weren’t Rebecca really cut into his knowledge on the subject, and his dad certainly didn’t have any hidden porno mags to find, so the barebones basics of public education had to due on the mechanical end. What Elias did give him was a very basic, but very straightforward (and very humiliating) talk on consent. Of course, that wasn’t the word he used, but that was the theme of one of the few talks his dad had given him in regards to being a man, and it had happened after Elias asked what his relationship with Rebecca was last year. With a blushing Marc desperately trying to escape the conversation, insisting they were just friends, Elias told him all that he really needed to know about sex. Make sure sh’s comfortable, make sure she actually wants it. Don’t force, don’t beg, don’t bargain for it. Make sure she’s enjoying herself, and stop if she’s not. Years latter, although Marc could write a book on his dads mistakes, he would always respect his dad for not giving the simple “don’t do it”. Marc had barely ever thought about kids, Layla didn’t want them, and he wasn’t really sure he could do it right, but he knew if he ever did, this was one talk he’d pass down to his son.

He had a feeling this is not where Carl was going.

Asa opened the door. “Hey Becca” He greeted his sister with a warm hug, and it seemed like the grief may have swept away some tension, at least for now. “Marc” he extended a hand, which Marc shook. “Thanks for coming, it’s nice to see you again.” He sounded sincere, at least.

“You too Asa. I’m sorry for your loss”

Asa smirked, and looked a little more like the preteen Marc knew way back. “No, you’re not, but it’s fine, please, come in.”

Rebecca went right to work with the groceries that were delivered, prepping for the gathering after the funeral. People from the temple would probably drop by, offer condolences, and maybe stop to chat to see what the gossip was on Asa and Rebecca’s lives, but no one really liked Carl, and their family wasn’t that big. Marc could tell she was nervous. Jack was literally only going to be there to piss torment Rebecca and piss off Marc. Men like Jack usually separated their partners from their family, Jack’s method was a bit different. Jack was big on portraying perfection, abusive families and sibling tensions wouldn’t do. Rebecca was forced back into a relationship with her dad and brother. She wasn’t upset about seeing Asa, she counted that as a blessing, but Jack was in total control, stepping into the role Marc occupied before, hence Asa taking Jack’s side in the divorce. They still played video games online regularly, despite not talking to Rebecca since she left, until he called to let her know their dad had a heart attack.

Services went as expected, a jewish funeral despite Carl’s lack of participation in the faith. When he felt Rebecca’s hand squeeze Marc’s hard, he knew that meant she spotted Jack. She remained strong, always so strong, his pillar, his rock. He would be that for her.

Marc didn’t leave her side for a second. She spent most of her time in the kitchen prepping and plating and cooking, not exactly eager to be in the room with her family who all just adored Jack. He watched her angrily cut a cucumber with the aggression of a butcher. “You doing okay Beccs? We can-”

She slammed the knife on the cutting board, and Marc was thankful she couldn’t see him startle. “Marc Spector, suggest we leave again and I’m kicking you out.” She stared at the wall ahead of her.

“Beccs-”

She turned to him. “Don’t ‘Beccs’ me, Marc, you don’t want to be here, so just go, go back to the hotel, or go back to New York, I don’t fucking care, I’ll deal with this myself.”

He groaned. “Of course I don’t want to be here Rebecca! Nothing good happened her, not in this house, not in this city, nothing, being here brings back bad memories I try my damnest to forget, and I don’t understand why you insist on being here!”

“He’s my dad”

Marc threw up his hands. “I get it, Rebecca! I get it, you’re morally superior to me, you go to your dads funeral, you forgive him after everything he did to you, you forgive Jack, again and again, you’re better than me, I get it”

Marc… mate…

Rebecca stared at him, and Marc braced for a fight, for her to yell at him and for them to bicker like they had been, but instead her face just softened. “Is that why you’ve been so upset this week?”

“Yes” He practically whined out, feeling relief at being able to pinpoint the source of his anger.

“Honey…” She took his hand. “I’m not blaming you for not going to your mom's shiva… I don’t think I’m better than you. Our lives were very, very different, your relationship with Wendy was very different. You hadn’t even talked to her for, what? A decade? You did what you could, and I don’t blame you for the choices you made. My dad and I… things were more complicated, there was good and bad”

Marc closed his eyes, shaking his head. “There was good with us to, it��s just… it’s hard to separate it from the rest”

Rebecca wrapped her hands around his waist, drawing the man she loved in for a hug, relieved to know where the tension that had surrounded them came from. “Marc, honey, I know. These things will always be complicated. We have to deal with them in our own way. For me, this is closure. Laying it all to rest. For you, it would be letting her win.” She kissed his forehead softly. “I’m so proud of you, I’ve always been so fucking proud of you. You’ve come so far, despite everything, and you’ve done so much of it alone.”

He shook his head as he nestled into her neck, smelling her. “No, not alone. I had you, I had Layla, I had Steven, even if he didn’t know it.”

“Baby, you shouldered so much alone, don’t mitigate how far you’ve come, how strong you are, I’m so, so proud”

They stayed like that for a moment, so lost in the embrace that they didn’t notice anyone enter the room.

“I expected as much”

Jack

Marc felt felt her rip on his tighten, and he turned her away from where the voice was, putting his body between them.

“What. Is. Going on with you guys?” Carl repeated, when Marc was too scared to answer.

“Nothing sir” He managed to get out, trying not to shake, trying to stand tall and brave.

“You guys aren’t fucking?”

Looking back, Marc couldn’t fathom every saying that to a 14 year old his daughter was friends with, but Carl had no tact.

“No sir, we’re friends”

Carl laughed at that, putting a hand on Marc’s shoulder. “That’s what they always say”

Wincing at the touch, he put his brave face back on, refusing to back down. “We’re not-ah!” Carl’s grip on his shoulder squeezed down painfully tight, digging into his skill, and all Marc’s mustered bravado dissipated.

“I honestly don’t care, but I ain’t raising another kid”

If Marc was less terrified, he’d laugh at that. Becca raised herself and Asa.

Carl continued. “You get her pregnant, I will kill both of you.” He shoved Marc into a side table, causing Marc to fall down into it, the commission drawing Becca out of her room at the end of the hall.

When she saw Marc on the floor, she quickly ran to him, but was stopped when her dad clamped a hand over her mouth, shoving her against the wall. “I’ll tell you what I told your little boyfriend. You can be a whore all you want, but you get knocked up, you’re both dead. Understood?”

Unable to speak with the hand over her, she simply glared at him, unwilling to give in.

His hold on her face began bruising, making Rebecca yelp. “Is that clear? Or do I have to ask Marc?”

She glanced over to where Marc was frozen on the floor. She didn’t want him hurt. Rebecca swallowed her pride and nodded. Carl let go, and walked away, mumbling obscenities about Rebecca she didn’t even hear, she was quickly at Marc’s side. “C’mon, let’s go to the library, start on that paper”

“I’m sorry” He muttered as he stood up, shaking from the interaction.

She helped him stand. “For what?”

“For no stopping him, I wanted to… but I just… I froze” Marc looked down, embarrassed, his masculinity already at a low point, this did not help.

“Marc” She steadied him, forcing him to look her in the eye. “It is not your job to protect me. I can handle myself”

“I know”

But Marc felt like it was his job to protect her, ever since that first act of kindness she shared with him, and he continued to feel that way for the next 2 decades together. As they exited the house, Marc heard steps and turned around, catching Asa watching them leave with a look in his eyes Marc couldn’t read.

Jack was munching on a latke. “Good stuff. You always did like your food.” He punctuated the comment with a glance to her stomach.

Rebecca held Marc back by his shirt. “Jack, let’s not do this”

Asa entered the room. “Do what?” He frowned at Marc, who was clearly postering, gearing up for a fight.

Jack answered. “Rebecca is holding Marc back from fighting me” It wasn’t a lie, but a bit dramatic.

Asa scrubbed his face with his hands. “Fucking hell you two, this is why I didn’t want you to come. It’s always dramatics with you two!”

Marc scoffed. “Dramatics? Asa, you invited your sister's ex-husband-”

“We’re still married,” Jack reminded them.

Marc ignored him. “To your dad shiva, that’s insane! Do you have any idea what he did to her?”

Asa crossed his arms. “I know all about the divorce, Spector, that’s half the reason dad had the heart attack!”

“You’re blaming me for that?”

“YES!” Asa shouted. “It’s always you Marc! Ever since I can remember you’ve caused her problems! Jesus, the amount of time he kicked her stomach because he thought you knocked her up-”

Marc didn’t know that, but when he turned to Rebecca, the guilty look on her face confirmed she had never intended on him finding out.

Jack was smirking, allowing the scene to play out.

Asa continued. “All this time, you constantly fucked her life up, constantly got in the way of things, leading her on, then she finally moves on from you, gets married, and you can’t even let her have that?”

Marc felt like he could burst out of his skin. The suit he had rented was stiff and uncomfortable, the church was way too much. Too hot, too noisy, to crowded. Everything was happening at once. Were christian churches always like this? He picked at a scab on his arm, cracked his knuckles, and tore at his nails, trying to find something for his fingers to do to calm him, but Christ, when was this supposed to start? He checked his watch. 10 minuets ago. He supposed it was normal for weddings to start late, all the girls needing their hair and make up done, the guys running off to grab one thing or another, everyone probably drunk by this point. Did baptists drink? Yeah, yeah, they did, it was in the services. Wait, no, that was the catholics. Were baptists the ones that did the speaking in tongues? Or was that pentecostals? Or Calvinists? No, Calvinists were the ones with the really bleak outlook. Was Calvinism a religion or a philosophy? Which one was the 19 Kids and Counting people?

Marc was interrupted from his strange thought process by a hand on his shoulder. “Marc?”

It was Asa, all dressed up for his role as a groomsman. Damn, he hadn’t seen the kid in a long time, he really grew up.

“Hey man” Marc stood up, shaking the hand of the boy he had thought of as a little brother for much of his early life, but who had become a stranger. “Good to see you.”

He nodded, not impressed. “She’s asking for you”

“Who?”

“Who the fuck else do you know here?”

Rude, but the point was made.

Marc frowned. “Why?”

Sighing and rolling his eyes, Asa practically dragged Marc out of the pew. “I don’t know, but she won’t walk until you talk to her”

Asa dragged him to the door to where Rebecca was, through a sea of bridesmaids and a wedding party he didn’t recognize a face of. Must all be Jack’s friends.

Marc went to open the door, but Asa stopped him. “Marc, listen. I know we haven't gotten along the last few years, but I need you to do this for me” he was serious, earnest, but Marc was wary, nodding for Asa to continue with his request. “Let her have this” He must have seen the confusion in Marc’s face. “Whatever it is you two have had, it needs to end. At least in the form it’s been in. She cannot keep waiting for you to pop in and out of her life. She needs a new start, and this is it. Jack is good for her, keeps her focused, takes care of her. She has a good life with him. I don’t know what she needs you for but.” Asa closed his eyes and sighed before opening them. “But don’t get in the way of her happiness, Spector. Please, man to man” There was a pleading look in Asa’s eyes.

Marc wondered if Asa was right, had Marc gotten in the way of Rebecca’s life? ‘Whatever it is you two have had’ what did Asa think they had? Did Rebecca say something? Did she have the same feelings Marc felt?

Asa took his hand off the handle, and Marc entered the room. Rebecca was pacing the floor, turning when she heard it open.

Marc watched Asa’s face for a while. The little boy he had helped raise had changed a lot over the years, for better or for worse, but even after everything, even after all the fights he had witnessed Becca get in over the years, he cared deeply for his sister, his mind had just been skewed and manipulated by their dad and Jack, not unlike Rebecca. Marc was about to let him have this, to back down like Becca’s touch requested of him, when she spoke.

“You think Marc is the reason all this happened?”

All three men turned to her.

“Marc has done nothing but try to protect me since he was 9 years old, Asa. You are too young to remember a time before him, but dad was always like that! And Jack? Jack and I aren’t getting a divorce because of Marc, we’re getting a divorce because he beat the shit out of me!”

Asa’s brow furrowed in confusion, glancing at Jack with suspicion.

“This” She motioned to the pink scar on her face. “I didn’t trip and spill coffee, Jack threw tea at me!”

Marc watched as Rebecca laid it open for Asa, finally letting her brother in on the secrets she’d been keeping.

Jack tried to deny it, but she talked over him, only booking at her brother as she stepped forward. “Dad attempted to make me miscarry an imaginary baby, but he,” she pointed at Jack “He purposely got me pregnant, which I did not agree too, and then beat me so bad I bruised my rips and actually miscarried.”

Asa believed her, turning to Jack. “What the actual fuck man?”

Jack stayed cool, calm, attempting to talk his way out of it. “I didn’t do shit, c’mon Asa, you know me.”

Asa looked to Rebecca.

She looked at him gently, eyes filled with a sadness he rarely saw in her. “Asa, I wouldn’t lie to you, not about this”

Asa wanted to believe Jack. It was easier to believe Jack, to believe their dad, to hate Marc and blame him for Rebecca’s choices, but when he looked at them… All he could see was the ever-honest, painfully honest face of the woman who raised him, and the friend who had been there when his dad wasn’t. “Jack, get the fuck out.”

“Asa-”

“GET OUT!” Asa shouted, placing himself between Jack and his sister.

Jack turned to Rebecca “This isn’t over, I’m dragging this divorce out as long as possible, and I’ll bleed you dry while doing it”

Marc stepped back up. “Leave without making a scene, or I swear to god-”

Jack turned to Marc “I will fucking kill you” Before leaving.

Asa started to go after him for that threat, but Marc caught his shoulder. Asa turned quickly into Marc, taking him in an embrace. “I’m sorry” he muttered, apologizing for the last 20 years of near-silence and anger

Rebecca joined their hug. “Oh Ace, it’s okay”

Marc held him in a hug, relieved to have both the people he grew up with in his arms, safe, out of Jack and Carl’s grasp.

“Becc, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“It’s okay, you didn’t know” She pulled back, brushing a dark curl that wasn’t unlike Marc’s out of his face. “Let’s get through day one of the shiva, we can talk more after people leave, okay?”

Feeling more like a baby brother than he had in years, Asa nodded.

She was stunning, something straight out of a wedding magazine. Extensions in her hair that was half up, the rest in loose curls that cascaded from a tiara. The dress had to be designer, an a-line off the shoulder, low neckline and floral and lace detailing, something she looked beautiful in, but so distinctly not her.

Her face lit up when she saw him. ‘Marc! HI!” She stayed away from him, instead of rushing to take his hand like she used to. Marc supposed this was more appropriate, seeing as she was always married.

“Hey, metukah, what’s going on?”

She wrung her hand nervously. Since when was her nervous? “I’m just… just anxious, thats all. Big day” A slight chuckle. She was hiding something.

“Are you… are you having second thoughts?”

Her face faltered. “Well, not exactly… just… thoughts in general…”

He paused. This could be it. He could tell her. Two decades after meeting, 15 or so years after they gave their bodies to each other that night, he could do it. He could tell her loved her. He could take her away. “Becca.. Do you want to go?”

She hesitated. “I… I don’t know…”

“Is something wrong with him? Did Jack do anything?”

Rebecca shook her head. She wasn’t lying. He knew when she was lying, which was rare. “I’m just nervous”

“Why did you want to talk to me?” Give me something, he thought something that says you love me.

“You’re my best friend”

Was he? They had spoken less and less since she started seeing Jack…

He could tell her. He should tell her.

I love you I love you I love you

Are you sure you want her in this right now?

A chill ran through Marc’s spin with that ever more familiar voice in his head, he didn't dare look to the side. He knew who was standing there, a grim reminder of who he had become.

Marc didn’t have a stable job, a steady incoming, consistent housing.

He was the avatar for a god

He was a killer

He couldn’t provide anything for her. He never had been able to give her what she deserves, what Jack can. With Jack, she’ll never have to worry about living on the streets or when she’s going to eat. Jack’s never killed.

Marc thought through the faces of everyone he killed, every death he was responsible for.

She deserved better than what he could offer her.

“Rebecca, honey, it’s just jitters, that’s all” It killed him to say it. “He’ll take care of you, you’ll be happy.” Marc had to fight back the anger at himself, the frustration he felt, the tears of helplessness. This wasn’t his life. He couldn’t give her anything. This was the life she deserved. Pretty things, safety, security. He approached her, taking both her hands in his. “Rebecca, you make a beautiful bride”

She nodded, taking in the sight of him, and for a moment he could almost imagine he was at the alter with her, that it was him she was marrying… he let go on her hands before the fantasy took over.

When the night ended and guests left, Marc, Becca and Asa sat in the living room like they had done countless times throughout the years, catching up, reminiscing, hashing over old beefs and memories. Marc sensed a change, a change for the better.

They were a family again.

***************

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imrix · 2 years

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Alright yeah having finished it I get what the buzz about Cyberpunk Edgerunners was, even though cyberpunk as a genre and in particular its treatment of cyberware usually isn’t my jam. Damn good show.

Becca deserved better though - like, not even for her own sake, I think her ending hurts the story a little. Spoiler meta below the cut.

Edgerunners is a story about the value of human connections - that much was obvious pretty much from the moment David fell in with runners because they could make a pitch to him as people, where the corpo recruitment offer is as impersonal as a recorded message. But it’s also a story about ego and addiction and how poisonous they are to those connections. It is, after all, a tragedy where all of one of the crew makes it out alive (two if you count Falco, which... ehhh?), having lost a great part of what she was living for.

And the big foible that's constantly on display, the way those connections sour, is like - Gloria and Lucy and David and even Maine to a degree, they're all carrying that throughline of trying to save/protect others, to be the person who saves/protects others, even as in doing so they're stifling or destroying the dreams and desires of the people they're trying to protect. It’s about them being the saviour more than it is about connecting with or understanding their loved ones.

Gloria wants to save her son from the squalid life she knows, even as it crushes him. Lucy wants to save David, even as she can't bring herself to let him in to give him the connection he yearns for. David wants to save Lucy, more than he cares that she wants him to stay alive with her. Maine wants to be the strong father leading his crew to prosperity and success, even as he destroys himself with a chrome addiction that ruins their capacity to be a crew.

Becca is different in that she's about the one person in the cast who's willing to put herself out there and... care about the desires of the people she cares about, I guess, which is to me a rock-solid necessity of building anything healthy.

She wants David, but she doesn't do the catty thing and try to compete with Lucy for him - she's a bit grumpy that David wants Lucy instead of her, but she ultimately accepts it, and more, she acts on that acceptance by leaning in to saving Lucy for the sake of bringing David back to himself. And for a story about the value of connections and how they fail, I think it's a poor choice to strangle that before it can say its piece in the final accounting.

It’s a basic rule of action storytelling, right? Any fight between characters (rather than a character versus the living scenery of mooks) is on some level an argument between who they are and what they represent. Fights turn on who's winning the argument. But Becca doesn't get to have an argument, and I think that's a poor narrative choice when she has something important to say for what I saw as pretty core to the story.

Would it have been better if she lived? Mm, maybe. You could do something pretty poignant if she’d been the one to get Lucy out safely (She's not a great driver - fine, neither was David and he still pulled stunts pretty quick when Lucy dropped him behind the wheel), and how that vindicates her behaviour as the only way you really make it or save anything, even if that’s still a tragedy of people surviving even as they lose the great part of what they lived for. But honestly it’s still fine if she dies, so long as she gets to have a bit of an exchange with Adam Smasher to acknowledge the significance of what she represents, rather than abruptly offing her. Something that speaks to Smasher's nature as a corporate tool severed from sentiment, or just his personal sociopathy.

#cyberpunk #cyberpunk edgerunner #edgerunner #spoilers #edgerunner spoilers

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zepskies · 5 months

Text

And So It Goes - Part 17

Pairing: Billy Butcher x OFC (Latina!OC)

Summary: As Madelyn Stillwell’s personal assistant, Helena Flores finds herself caught between protecting her job — and more importantly her life — or helping Billy Butcher bring down the supe who killed her best friend, Becca.

AN: I have the entire week off work, so I'm catching up with my WIPs. 😜

Word Count: 5,800 Tags/Warnings: Angst, violence, more of Soldier Boy’s bad flirting, hurt/comfort, PTSD, explosions…

ASIG Series Masterlist

17: Emotionally Deficient Men

Helena used an old bobby pin in the pocket of her jeans to break free of her restraints. It took her a while, but eventually the metal handcuff clicked open and she hastened to her car.

Butcher, Hughie, and Soldier Boy had maybe half an hour on her, but she could make up some of the time if she didn’t stop, only for gas halfway through the six-hour drive.

Vermont was lovely this time of year. The only sights she could afford to take in was the luxurious mansion owned by the infamous T&T Twins, who were hosting an even more infamous…party.

Oh fuck, not Herogasm, Helena thought, as she pulled up to the side of the road and parked her car. She zipped up her leather jacket against the windchill as she got out and surveyed the huge lot.

She’d heard about Herogasm, but she’d never had the misfortune to go to one of these events; she wasn’t a supe. And she was never more grateful for that as she took in the scene.

The mansion was already on fire. It was a clusterfuck of half-naked supes and working professionals fleeing, screaming, crying as they filtered out across the manicured lawn and back to their cars.

Helena’s eyes widened as she took in the half-demolished house, which looked like it had been blasted right through the front. Soldier Boy.

They must’ve already gotten here before her.

She was cautious in approaching the house, coming in from the back gate by the pool that was swinging open. She made it through the debris in the house with careful steps. It was quieter inside, eerie in a way. She avoided looking down at the bodies and held her breath at the smell of charred flesh.

She turned a corner of the house and stopped short. Her breathing shallowed with a gasp when she came face to face with the one man she’d hoped to never see again.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” asked Homelander. He looked almost as surprised to see her as she was to see him, and her eyes widened.

In her mind, his blue eyes flashed like a memory: of a hand around her throat, pinning her to the wall. A lazy, crazed look in his eye as he debated whether he was going to let her breathe again.

“I was…invited,” she lied on the fly. “I’m just a bit late to the party.”

Homelander’s smile was subtle, but telling. He didn’t believe her. He tilted his head and took a booted step forward into her orbit. Helena stepped back out of reflex, but when she turned her head, she realized she had unintentionally stepped into a battlefield.

Soldier Boy stood mere feet away, suited up with his shield in hand. He regarded her with a half-smile in greeting, though his gaze was focused on Homelander.

“Out of the way, sweetheart,” he said.

She wanted to be annoyed by the nickname, but she tried to oblige him. The last thing she wanted was to be caught between the past and present of dickhead supes.

But a gloved hand grabbed the back of her neck. She gasped, instinctively cringing and glancing back at Homelander. His eyes flicked down to hers.

“Oh, Helena,” he drawled. “Don’t tell me you know this guy.”

“I think we all saw him on the news,” she said, hating the tremor in her voice. “I’m surprised it took you this long to catch him.”

“What fucking rock did you crawl out of, I wonder,” he mused out loud. His hand tightened a fraction, making her wince and suck in a breath as she fought to remain still. “But I don’t think it’s a coincidence, do you?”

Panic welled in her lungs, squeezing around her heart like a vice. Her gaze darted to Soldier Boy. It was pure instinct, the plea in her eyes. He saw it, though he said nothing until his attention turned back to Homelander.

“Homelander, I take it.” Soldier Boy eyed the other supe with a quirk of his lips. He gestured to the long red and white cape hanging from Homelander’s shoulders. “Nice candy stripes.”

Homelander tensed, though Helena wasn’t sure if it was because of the other man’s taunt, or because Butcher stepped into the hallway beside Soldier Boy. Butcher’s eyes widened when he saw her, and he hardened when he realized her predicament.

He sharpened on Homelander, who was perceptive enough to catch the brief exchange. His gaze narrowed.

“William Butcher and Soldier Boy,” he remarked. “Of course, you’re behind this. This whole thing… It really is all about me.”

Bile rose up in Helena’s throat. Just the sound of his voice made her sick, but the sheer size of his ego was even worse.

“William, we made a deal,” he continued. “To fight to the death. You, and me.”

Helena’s eyes widened. What kind of fucked deal was this, and when was that bargain struck?

Again, Butcher glanced at her, but he focused on Homelander.

“This is cheating,” said Homelander. His brows pinched with a glare. “Deal’s off.”

He lasered at Butcher with his eyes. Helena screamed as the man went down hard on his stomach. She tried to go to him, but Homelander’s hand tightened on the back of her neck and yanked her back.

She gasped and was forced to look at him through tearful, wide eyes.

“What, are you on their side now? Are you helping them?” His hand moved into her hair and started to squeeze even tighter, making her unconsciously whimper and twist against him. Her nails bit fruitlessly into his hand.

The mania behind his eyes was familiar. It had been featuring in her nightmares. “Be honest, Helena.”

“Figures that you’d hide behind a woman,” Soldier Boy remarked.

It earned Homelander’s attention.

“Excuse me?” he asked. He took a step forward, dragging Helena along with him. Her boots scrambled for purchase over fallen debris.

Homelander had to chuckle a little. “You know, you were my hero growing up. I watched all your movies, hundreds of times. You were the only one that was nearly as strong as me.”

Helena bit the inside of her lip. She could tell, just by the look on the other man’s face, that that was the wrong way to endear himself. Soldier Boy’s ego was more than a match for Homelander’s.

“Buddy, you think you look strong?” Soldier Boy said dryly. “You’re wearing a cape.”

Homelander took in an irritated breath.

“You’re just a cheap fucking knock-off,” Soldier Boy added.

It made Homelander seethe. “Oh no, no, no… I’m the upgrade.”

He pushed Helena away from him and launched full speed at Soldier Boy, tackling him into the next room. And she was shoved against the wall hard enough to knock her clean out.

Helena woke to a pounding in her head and a sharper agony in her ribs.

She uttered a pained groan, soon realizing that she was laying on a dingy bed with a ceiling fan turning slowly overhead. She tried to sit up, but that proved to be too much. She fell back with a gasp.

“Hey, hey, don’t get up,” said Hughie. He came into the bedroom with a glass of water and some pills in his hand. He helped her sit up enough against the pillows to take the meds and drink a bit of water. She thanked him, and moved her frizzy hair away from her face to meet his concerned gaze.

“Where the hell are we?” she asked.

“A motel just a couple hours south of Vermont,” he replied.

She nodded. She was still wearing her now dusty gray shirt, jeans, and boots, but her jacket had been draped on the far corner of the bed.

She looked past Hughie to find Butcher standing in the doorway. Hughie noticed as well, and he laid a comforting hand on her arm before he got up.

“Let me know if you need anything else,” he said. She nodded, though she could hardly think at the moment.

Butcher shared a brief, but meaningful gaze with the younger man as he left. Then he stepped into the room and sat down on the edge of her bed. He let out a sigh and reached for the side of her head, and she winced as his fingers brushed a tender knot there.

“Got your bell rung, didn’t ya?” he said.

It was her turn to sigh.

His eyes took her in; the pain in her face, the way she shifted to try and fail to get comfortable.

“You all right?” he asked.

All Helena could manage was a jerky nod of her head, even as tears glistened in her eyes. Her hand reached up and shakily touched his chest.

“What about you?”

Butcher quirked a smile. “Had me a little supe cocktail, didn’t I?”

Helena let out a breath of relief. V24 was still untested poison, but it had saved his dumbass. And he’d saved her dumbass in turn…

“Does Homelander know I was the mole at Vought?” she asked.

Butcher’s expression dimmed.

Hours ago…

Butcher got up, shaking off the feeling of a point-blank laser blast with a shrug of his shoulders thanks to the Temp V coursing through his veins. He rubbed the sting out of his chest and shook off the stun of hitting the ground so hard.

Butcher pushed off the ground, and the sounds of the nearby fight between Homelander and Soldier Boy reached him. But he also saw Helena just a few yards away, lying prone on the ground, twisted onto her back.

His eyes widened, and he went to her. He dropped to his knees at her side and brushed her dark hair away from her face with slightly shaking hands. Her eyes were closed, her body unmoving. He cupped her cheek and felt for her pulse at her neck.

The tension in his shoulders eased when he felt her heartbeat thrumming under the pads of his fingers. Fucking hell.

How the fuck had she broken free of those cuffs? And more importantly, why did she insist on putting herself in the line of fucking fire?

Butcher knew the answer, deep down, but he stowed that all away to ease her more comfortably on her back, untwisting her hips and legs. He hated to leave her like this, but he had no choice. He saw that Soldier Boy was having a hard time with Homelander on his own.

So Butcher jumped into the fray, lasering Homelander from behind. The supe’s face betrayed his confusion, and even his anger in that tick in his brow.

“What have you done?” he asked.

“Scorched earth,” Butcher taunted.

But Homelander glanced passed him, at Helena still lying unconscious in the hall. It made Butcher tense and shift his stance, subtly putting himself in between.

Homelander smirked. “Wait, wait…you and Helena Flores? You have a thing, don’t you?”

His steps forward were somehow both lazy and measured. Butcher’s movements were even more calculated, stepping closer, but still blocking Helena.

“How long has this been going on?” Homelander asked. “Couldn’t have been very long. I mean, how did you even meet? She worked for us…”

Something seemed to don on the supe, and a sinking feeling churned in Butcher’s chest.

“Fuck me,” Homelander chuckled as a realization brightened his eyes. “You had an inside woman at Vought, didn’t you? Feeding information to you and your little rats.”

His grin deepened at the way Butcher’s smugness faded, and his expression became sharp and threatening.

Homelander wasn’t intimidated. Only pleased.

“Now everything makes sense,” he said. “Tell me, how long has she been servicing you?”

Butcher glowered, his eyes flickering with golden light. Homelander’s smirk raised higher.

“I’ll have to ask her about her hourly rate—”

That was the last quip the supe got out, before Butcher lasered him directly in the face. Homelander flew forward and met Butcher blow for blow, until Soldier Boy yanked Homelander down by his cape.

The fight began in earnest, with even Hughie joining in.

Unfortunately, Homelander slipped away at the last minute, leaving Butcher with the bitter aftertaste of an opportunity lost. And even worse, he knew, was the target now firmly painted on Helena’s back.

Now, in the relative safety of a crusty motel, Helena tried to wipe the tears from her face as she took in a breath meant to steady herself. It didn’t work.

Homelander knew the truth, and she was deep in this shit now.

For his part, Butcher buried a hand in her hair and sighed deeply.

“For fuck’s sake. This’s why I bloody told you not to come,” he said.

“You didn’t tell me, you restrained me,” she snapped.

“For all the fucking good it did me,” he said, just as angrily.

She stared into his eyes and saw the depths of his concern behind the anger. She knew how to read through the cracks of his rough exterior, and despite the fact that she was still so unbelievably mad at him, for several reasons, part of her felt mollified. She knew he still cared about her.

She was feeling petulant, however.

“You don’t have the right to lecture me,” she said. “Anyway, what the hell happened? When I got there, everything was already on fire.”

Butcher crossed his arms. “Yeah, Soldier Boy fucking snapped.”

Helena frowned. “What do you mean?”

“On account o’ his PTSD.” Butcher rubbed at his mouth and beard. “I think he blacked out. Same as Midtown.”

For a moment, Helena was in shock. “Shit. And this is the guy you want to make a deal with?”

“The deal’s been made, love,” said Butcher. He regarded her with more guarded eyes. “Only thing to do is keep moving forward.”

“Right,” she snapped. “Until you get killed.”

Helena shook her head and tried to sit up straighter. It caused a shift in her ribs that felt like white hot pain, a knife stabbing into her. She gasped and grabbed at her right side.

Frowning deeper, Butcher stayed her hand and lifted up her shirt enough to take a look. What he found was a large, yellowish bruise covering nearly half of her ribcage. It wasn’t dark enough to be internal bleeding, but he knew her tan skin would darken soon enough.

“Jesus,” he muttered.

“Is it bad?” she asked in worry.

“Is the pain dull or sharp?” he asked.

“Sharp,” she replied.

“Likely you’ve got a couple of broken ribs,” he said. “You can still breathe though. Nothing feels like it’s pokin’ ya, is it?”

She shook her head, relieving him further.

“You’ll probably be fine,” he said. You should get checked out at the hospital, though I doubt you’ll fucking take my advice. “They’ll heal up eventually.”

She frowned at him.

Maybe he should’ve made the hospital suggestion, because she shoved his hands off her and withdrew from him. He realized then how’d she’d taken his attempt to reassure her—like a lack of concern.

“Thanks, Dr. House,” she griped. “Your bedside manner is impeccable. Just leave me the fuck alone.”

Butcher held in a sigh. “Look, I didn’t mean it like—”

“I don’t care,” she said. Her tongue was sharp, but her eyes said that she was exhausted, in pain, and done with him.

So he reluctantly left her room and shut the door behind him. He eyed Soldier Boy, who sat on the couch, still in his supe suit while channel surfing on the TV. Hughie was trying to figure out on his phone where the closest fast food was.

Already Soldier Boy had given Butcher a list of possible safe houses to find Mindstorm: the second to last cast member of Payback. They were close enough to one of the addresses that it justified stopping for the night, but it also meant leaving Helena injured and alone with this radioactive boomer fuck, complete with PTSD and a taste for anything in a skirt.

Butcher grabbed Hughie’s arm and led him just outside the motel.

“I’m gonna cross off the first safe house on the list,” he said. He jabbed a pointed finger in Hughie’s chest. “Don’t leave her alone with him, whatever you fucking do. And make sure he don’t fucking leave.”

Hughie was wide-eyed, but he nodded. “Yeah. Sure.”

Butcher raised his brows. I mean it, the gesture said. Hughie nodded, a silent agreement struck between them.

He soon went back into the motel while Butcher took off in his car.

Hughie found the supe exactly where he’d left him: on the couch, watching reruns of Cheers. Soldier Boy didn’t look all that entertained, but his gaze slid over to Hughie when he came in.

“What’re you doing about food?” Soldier Boy asked.

Hughie blinked, and once again checked his phone. They were so deep in the middle of nowhere, no regular restaurant was going to deliver within an hour. There wasn’t even an Uber Eats or Doordash that delivered out here.

“That ain’t gonna cut it,” said Soldier Boy. His gaze was firm. “30 minutes or less. That’s what I’m’ giving you, before I go look for something myself.”

Fuck, Hughie thought. He couldn’t leave Helena alone, but he couldn’t have Soldier Boy taking off on him either.

“You can go, Hugh,” Helena said. He turned to find her standing in the doorway of her bedroom, looking worse for wear, but standing on her feet. She was leaning against the wall, and he immediately went to help her.

She directed him on where she wanted to sit: at the small, two-seater dining table.

She didn’t care what she ate, as long as it was hot, she told him. Though Hughie promised to bring her a soup of some kind, while Soldier Boy wanted “red meat.”

A burger it is, Hughie thought, internally rolling his eyes. He was still reluctant to leave, but Helena gave him an, I’ll be fine smile, weak though it was.

Hughie shook his head. Butcher was going to kill him, but he really didn’t have much of a choice. He left soon after, aiming to walk to the closest Wendy’s about half a mile down the road.

Meanwhile, Helena let out a breath. Already she knew this shitty plastic seat at the dining wasn’t going to do it for her. She needed support for her back and ribs, but she also didn’t want to lay down in bed anymore.

It made her head swim and her stomach churn, but she slowly got up and moved to sit on the far end of the couch, where Soldier Boy sat. At least she’d be able to watch some TV and try to take her mind off her pain as she waited for the meds to kick in. However, it did mean trying her luck with the supe.

She glanced at him, giving a thin smile. Soldier Boy turned to her with a gaze that slowly took her in.

“This isn’t an invitation,” she said warily. “Keep your hands to yourself.”

His smile was lazy, with the confidence of a man who’d no doubt fucked his way through starlets, cabana girls, and certainly any willing supe.

“Hey, now,” he said with charm. “What kind of man do you fucking take me for?”

A murdering one, Helena thought. But she didn’t sense a predatory attitude from him. At least, not in that sense. It didn’t mean she would let down her guard, but she did breathe a little easier.

“Besides. We both know that at some point,” he said. His voice lowered, like he was sharing a secret. His voice was deep and smooth, “You’re gonna get off your little high horse. When that time comes, I'll be more than happy to fuck you well and good, baby doll.”

Again, this man’s audacity knew no bounds. Helena’s brows raised high in shock. It took her a moment, but she eventually cleared her throat.

“Unlikely,” she deadpanned, despite her blush. “And who hits on someone with broken ribs?”

“They won’t be broken forever. And I can be…gentle,” he said. His eyes once again slid over her form, lingering on the hint of cleavage of her V-neck shirt. “Gentle enough, anyway.”

She couldn’t help but laugh a bit. This guy was too much.

“For the love of God. Enough, please,” she said. She shook her head, despite her incredulous smile. “I thought you said I needed a leash.”

She’d heard that little tidbit from the bug she planted in Butcher’s car.

Soldier Boy smirked. “Maybe. You are a bit fucking mouthy for my taste.”

That dimmed her amusement, into annoyance. There was that old-fashioned machismo that she couldn’t stand.

“Welcome to the 21st fucking century,” Helena snipped. “There’s a lot more where I come from.”

Soldier Boy shot her a look, annoyed yet contemplative. “So what, you and Butcher had a thing?”

“Good use of the past tense,” she grumpily acknowledged. She took the remote that lied between them and started looking through the TV guide for something to watch.

The supe eyed her with a certain smile.

“What’s the fucking deal with him and Homelander?” he asked. “I mean, the guy’s a prick. But why does Butcher hate him so much?”

Helena paused in her channel search. For now, she landed on an old episode of The Mesmerizer.

She let out a deep breath, holding a hand to her side when that pained her ribs. She wasn’t sure that this was her story to tell, but maybe if Soldier Boy knew the truth about Homelander, he’d be even more motivated to kill the bastard, besides ego and jealousy.

“Becca. Butcher’s wife,” she began. “Homelander…”

Helena paused. Even now, it was hard for her to say it out loud. She took in another steadying breath, and she met Soldier Boy’s green-eyed gaze.

“He violated her,” said Helena. “He ruined her damn life…and she died, because of him.”

That fell between them with a stiff, somewhat awkward silence.

“And how do you fit into all this?” Soldier Boy asked, gesturing at her.

Helena inclined her head. “Becca was my best friend.”

She told her part of the story, after Becca disappeared. How she’d worked at Vought, and Butcher had come knocking on her door demanding her help. But once she was on board, she became committed to avenging her friend. Helena did omit any mention of Ryan, for his protection.

She gave Soldier Boy just enough of the story that it still made sense, down to her finally leaving Vought and giving the CIA as much intel as she could, while trying to keep her involvement with Butcher and his team a secret from her ex-employer (and Homelander, most of all).

“So you hooked up with your best friend’s husband?” Soldier Boy mused with a smirk.

Fucking figures. That was what he took from this conversation?

Helena gave him a shrewd frown.

“You’re taking the moral high ground here?” she volleyed back. “We didn’t get together until this year, if you must know.”

The supe shrugged. It led her to look at him with a little more contemplation. She asked a question she probably had no business asking, if she wanted to have some self-preservation. But her pain meds were kicking in, and it was giving her a high dose of fuck it.

“How long were you with Crimson Countess? You know…before,” she asked.

Soldier Boy’s expression dimmed, with a bitter edge.

“Too fucking long,” was all he said, crossing his arms. “She was always a raging bitch.”

Helena wanted to roll her eyes, but she supposed his vitriol was understandable, given that the woman had helped gift wrap him for the Russians, along with the rest of his team. She truly must have hated him.

“Did she participate in Herogasm too?” Helena asked. Or was its founder the only one allowed to fuck other people?

Soldier Boy quirked a brow at her, but she held her ground. She’d heard about that particular tidbit when she still worked at Vought.

“She knew better,” he replied. It made Helena chuckle.

“Right. I just wonder if maybe Countess was a little bitter,” she mused. “I mean, her man is over here having frivolous orgies while she’s expected to be the Virgin Mary.”

Soldier Boy frowned in earnest now, with irritation and a hint of warning behind his eyes. Helena was too buzzed on her meds to heed that warning. Fuck, what the hell did Hughie give me?

“I was dedicated to our relationship,” Soldier Boy argued.

“In the viewing public, sure,” Helena retorted. “Vought’s poster boy committing serial adultery would’ve probably been frowned upon.”

She worked with supes for ten years. She knew how their marketing worked, especially with their “relationships,” fabricated for PR or otherwise.

Now, however, Soldier Boy turned to her with a sharper warning.

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” he raised his voice.

Helena paused with a small flinch. But she hid her apprehension.

“There’s no need to get loud,” she said.

“There’s no need to be a smart-mouth bitch,” he shot back.

Her eyes narrowed at him. “I take that as a compliment, comrade.”

Soldier Boy didn’t know whether he was more irritated or amused by her audacity.

“You must really wanna end up over my knee, sweetheart,” he said snidely.

His arrogant face was insufferable, Helena thought. But he’d made no move to “put her in her place.” Maybe because she was injured. If she was a supe, or even a man, she didn’t think he’d be so lenient.

She smirked. “Or maybe….maybe I’m just high. Jesus, how many milligrams did Hughie give me?”

She tried to shift into a more comfortable sitting position on the couch, but it only disrupted her ribs, with a sharp flare of pain that made her wince. Her head ached as well, cutting through some of her brain fog.

She needed a shower, food, and sleep. The shower would have to wait, but Hughie had better hurry the fuck up with the food.

She was so preoccupied with her discomfort that she didn’t notice, at first, how Soldier Boy was looking at her. He still seemed irritated as he took the remote from her.

“You should probably shut the fuck up then. Get some sleep. Maybe then I’ll get some peace and quiet,” he said.

Helena raised her brows. “Wow, you are a delight.”

Soldier Boy rolled his eyes.

He was an asshole. In fact, he’d just caused a hell of a scene, had apparently blacked out, and as a result, had even killed a handful of people in the process of getting revenge on the T&T Twins.

And yet…

Get some sleep, he’d said.

He seemed to have a tiny sliver of decency. Helena only detected it because she was fluent in the language of emotionally deficient men.

She considered getting up to take his “advice,” of getting some rest, but he managed to find Lethal Weapon playing on one of the movie channels.

“Oh, that’s a classic,” she told him. “From the late ‘80s…you probably just missed it.”

Soldier Boy frowned at her, but he didn’t turn the channel. They watched the movie from then on in a strangely companionable silence.

But of course, the peace couldn’t last for long.

There was a shootout on the screen; predictable for an action movie. Helena had seen this scene half a dozen times, but she heard a hitch of breath. She turned to her right and saw that her companion’s gaze was glazed over, unfocused.

Soldier Boy sat stiffly, blinking, with a subtle shake of his head, like he was trying to get rid of a ringing in his ears.

“Soldier Boy?” she tried. He didn’t seem to hear her.

Oh fuck. She paused, realizing what was happening.

Though it pained her battered ribs and head, she pulled herself up straighter and scooted closer to him on the couch. When she touched his shoulder, his gaze snapped up to hers. She tried not to flinch.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“…I don’t know,” he gritted out.

Her breath shallowed along with his. Even if she tried to run, she doubted she’d get very far if he freaked out and blasted this motel off the map.

“Okay, it’s okay. Soldier…what’s your name?” she asked.

For just a moment, her question managed to split him out of his disassociation.

“What?”

“What’s your name?” Helena repeated.

He blinked like he had something in his eye, though she knew he was trying to concentrate on her. At the same time, she seemed to be irritating him.

“Soldier Boy,” he said.

“No, not that bullshit. Your real name,” Helena insisted, and she squeezed his shoulder. It was unnaturally warm.

She couldn’t know that her words kicked the man back into his memories—before Russia. Before even Payback.

Behind his mind’s eye, he saw the tall, stoic, imposing figure of his father. The floral print of his mother’s Sunday dress when he was a kid. Her smile when she touched his cheek.

“Ben,” he gritted out. His chest was started to burn and glow from the inside. He was fighting it tooth and nail as his gaze flit over the woman next to him. Run, you fucking idiot.

“Ben,” Helena repeated. Her concern was in her eyes as she chanced lowering her hand, from his shoulder to his arm. “Stay with me, Ben. Can you breathe through it?”

“Shut the fuck up,” he snapped, shutting his eyes.

He wanted to tell her to stop touching him like he was some weak piece of shit. But the pressure was building beyond his control.

“Ben?” she prodded weakly. Even through his super suit, his arm became too hot for her to touch. She gasped and was forced to release him. She saw the glow of his chest through his suit and tried to back away, but her shaking body was frozen in fear.

Her wide eyes met his.

Ben had just enough presence of mind to push her away from him, just before a burst of nuclear power escaped him. With a rough yell, he tried to angle it upwards. The beam tore through half of the motel room and escaped through the ceiling.

Afterwards, he was breathing hard and staring into a midnight sky through the large hole his power had created. The distant sounds of screaming and car horns blaring was familiar, though he grimaced.

Fuck, he thought. He looked at the carnage wrecked through the rest of the motel room, though he didn’t remember creating it.

Belatedly, he remembered Helena.

She had been tossed to the floor, onto her back. Ben hesitated, but he slid off the couch and went to her, taking a knee on the ground beside her prone form. He brushed some plaster dust off her face and checked her pulse at her neck.

He nodded at the feel of her pulse thrumming under the pads of his fingers. Then, he surprised himself by sliding and arm under her back and propping her up against him. He tapped her cheek.

“Hey, wake up,” he prodded.

She didn’t oblige him just yet, making his brows furrow. Ben had a moment to take in her dark lashes that matched her long, dark hair of loose curls. (He could imagine wrapping them around his hand.)

Though her face was pale at the moment, her skin was tan and smooth, with full lips he couldn’t help being tempted by. Through the sweat and dust, he could even detect an earthy, floral scent. Maybe it was her shampoo.

“Helena?” Butcher’s voice made Ben raise his head. He frowned, mostly because he hadn’t heard the man coming. His ears were still ringing a bit, though he wouldn’t acknowledge it.

Butcher got down on her other side and took Helena from Ben’s arms, quickly, but still with care. Butcher touched her clammy cheek, then glared at the supe.

“Get your Wonder Girl powers in check before you blast us all to hell!” he snapped.

“Watch your fucking mouth,” Ben barked back, as he stood. “Without me, you’ve got fuck all.”

Butcher seethed; both because he was furious, and because he knew Soldier Boy was right. They still needed one another to accomplish their respective agendas, and that was the bitch of it.

Butcher got back onto his feet with Helena in his arms. He ignored the supe for now, and brought her to the bedroom, which had mostly remained unscathed.

He laid her down on the bed and surveyed the damage, even lifting her shirt to make sure she wasn’t visibly bleeding. She really should’ve been checked out at a hospital…

Just as he almost resolved to do just that, she started to wake, with a moan of pain. Butcher softened. He rested a careful, and surprisingly tender hand against her cheek. He held his breath, waiting for the moment that she blinked awake, revealing those honey brown eyes.

Helena bit her lip when she saw him, leaning her cheek against his hand. She was still full of painkillers and brain fog, and all she really wanted right now was some comfort. The thought made her eyes sting with tears. She held his hand against her face.

“You gotta stop doing this to me, love,” Butcher muttered. His thumb caressed her cheek.

She smiled, because this was the man she knew. She missed him so damn much.

“I thought you hated being bored,” she rasped.

Butcher let out a long breath while his thoughts darkened. Might just kill that prick after Homelander.

Her gaze narrowed a bit.

“I know that look. Believe it or not, this was him saving me,” she said, with a sigh, briefly closing her eyes. “The Russians pulled a fucking number on him.”

“Yeah. He’s got a few fucking screws loose, don’t he?” Butcher replied.

Helena tugged him down to her by his collar and touched his cheek.

“Come with me, Billy,” she all but pleaded. “You can still let this go…”

She leaned up enough to nearly press her lips to his, but Butcher held off. His eyes roamed over her face, concentrating on her lips. They both knew he wanted this…

But he wouldn’t let himself. Her tears dripped down the corners of her eyes when he gently pulled her hand away. He leaned back and sat up on the edge of the bed.

“We’re gonna have to move,” he said. “Just rest there a tick, ‘til we get all squared away, figure out where we’re going. And where the fuck is Hughie?”

The latter he asked to himself, but Helena couldn’t be bothered to answer him. She wiped at her face and tried to bury her hurt and dismay, deep under a layer of anger. She forced her body to sit up with a whimper.

“Ey,” Butcher protested. She ignored him.

“I know where we can go,” she said, meeting his gaze. “It’s safe, and neither Vought or Homelander know where it is.”

He was confused at first, but he was too smart not to know where her mind was headed. Her house was close to the city, but still far enough to give them cover. And only Helena, Butcher, and Grace knew its location.

Butcher frowned.

“No,” he started to say. Before he could get going in earnest, Hughie stepped into what was left of the motel. They saw him through the gaping chasm—of what used to be a wall between the bedroom and the front door. He nearly dropped the Wendy’s bags.

“What the shit?!” Hughie exclaimed. “Where’s the roof?”

AN: 😬 Okay, so a lot of Soldier Boy being an ass in this chapter lol. (As usual.) And now these four are headed to Helena's house. What could possibly go wrong? 😂

Next Time:

Maybe I really do have a death wish, Helena thought, as she let the most wanted supe alive into her home.

Butcher and Hughie joined him, with the latter taking in her two-story house for the first time.

“Nice,” Hughie said with a nod. “This place is beautiful.”

Helena gave him a small smile. “Thank you.”

Though she gave Ben a pointed look. “Try not to break it, please.”

He shot her a raised brow, but didn’t comment. Instead, he watched her turn and show them one of the guest bedrooms on the first floor. Meanwhile, his gaze lingered on the curve of her ass in those jeans.

Butcher caught the supe’s lazy perusal with a sharp eye. Ben felt his stare and had the gall to shoot him a wink with his smile. His steps had a certain swagger as he followed Helena down the hall.

Keep Reading: Part 18

The Boys Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Tag List:

@lauraaan182 @homielander @calizmor @haibara-ai-tsii @brujaporfavor @sleepyqueerenergy @adoringanakin @skyesthebomb @lunaticgurly @deans-spinster-witch @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007

@wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso

@xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @emily-winchester @xxlaynaxx @kaleldobrev @jad3djay

#Emotionally Deficient Men #And So It Goes #Part 17 #the boys #billy butcher #soldier boy/Ben #soldier boy #billy butcher x oc #butcher x oc #billy butcher x ofc #poc!oc #billy butcher x reader #Butcher x Latina!OC #karl Urban #poc oc #latina!oc #hughie campbell #zepskies writes

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missvelvetsstuff · 2 years

Text

Fridays Place

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Mob AU

Chapter 17

Warnings: swearing, a little angst

Note: this has been half finished for awhile. I'm going to try to update more regularly and get it done.

When Bucky made it to his mom's to pick Becca up he braced himself for attitude from his daughter and questions from his mother and they didn't disappoint.

Becca stood in front of the house waiting for him to pull up. As soon as he stepped out of his car she ran up to give him a piece of her mind "Where have you been, daddy? It's been 2 days, Hilde is gonna forget me and you promised you would take me to see her every day. Is Miss Friday alright? Did you do something to upset her? She won't kick Hilde out will she? I don't want another riding instructor, just Miss Friday." And on she went without giving Bucky a chance to respond to any of her questions.

When she finally stopped he spoke up.

"I know Becca some things came up but I'm going to take you to see Hilde right now. Just get in your booster seat and let me talk to grandma for a minute, ok?" He told her when she gave him a chance. Becca nodded and climbed into her seat.

Bucky went up to his mother who was watching with one eyebrow arched up and her arms crossed "Are you going to tell me what's actually going on or brush me off like you did to Becca?" She smirked

Bucky shook his head "It's uh complicated, Ma but I screwed up and have been trying to fix it. Once things settle down I'll take you to the stable to meet Friday and Hilde but it's still a bit tense"

Winnie nodded "Sounds serious. I'm looking forward to meeting this woman who has stolen my son and granddaughters hearts. I don't think I've met anyone you've dated since Sharon."

Bucky shook his head "No it's not there yet but she's different, not like any of the others and is nothing like Sharon."

"Well I certainly hope not. You should probably head out before Becca starts having a fit. She is not too pleased with you right now"

"Yeah, I picked up on that. I'll talk to you soon Ma" Bucky kissed her on the cheek and left.

As they drove to the stable Becca chattered on happily about finally seeing Hilde and Miss Friday "Daddy, please be nice to Miss Friday. I really like her. Miss MJ and Mr Peter are nice too but I like Friday the best"

Bucky nodded and muttered "yeah, me too, kid." Which Becca didn't hear.

Friday sat on her porch waiting for them to return. When she heard a car pull up she stood up and was surprised to see a luxury car she didn't recognize.

An older man stepped out and walked up to her porch "Are you Miss Friday?"

She nodded "Yes, how can I help you?"

He smiled "I'm Gideon Malick, local businessman. I was wondering if you were interested in selling your land?"

She smiled and shook her head "No, I'm quite content here. I'm familiar with most of the local businesses, many donate to my stable but your name isn't familiar."

He smiled again, he had a malicious glint in his eyes "I have business interests all over the world, I'm afraid I don't make it home much and have others running things locally."

"Malick! What the hell are you doing here?" Bucky recognized the car when he pulled up and told Becca to wait in the SUV for him. Fear had his heart racing when he saw Gideon Malick standing a few feet away from Friday.

"James, good to see you. I was just inquiring about the status of this land. I've heard so much about this place and the lady here that I had to see for myself. I heard you were close to her." Malick smirked.

Bucky's face flushed in anger "This property and everyONE and everything associated with it is under my protection. The lady isn't interested in selling so there's no reason for you to linger."

"Bucky?" Friday said softly. He tried to smile reassuringly at her but kept an eye on the other man.

Malick smiled arrogantly and spoke softly "You have taken down a number of my men, Barnes. I can't just let that stand."

Bucky growled "Then you should have kept your men on a leash. Brock was a rabid dog. He kidnapped, raped and tortured an innocent woman and I could not let that stand. See yourself out, or I will." Bucky reached for his gun.

Malick smirked and raised his hands "I'm an old man and unarmed no need to get testy. I'm sure we'll be seeing each other soon." He turned and nodded to Friday "Nice meeting you miss. Have a nice afternoon."

Friday felt her knees giving out and sat on the bench looking up at Bucky "What was that Bucky? Who is he?"

Bucky sighed he knew this wasn't over but didn't want to scare her. "Can you give me just a minute please? To get Becca set up with Hilde before she gets scared? I promise I'll explain."

Friday nodded and went to greet Becca as she got out of the truck. Becca almost knocked her over in her excitement. "Miss Friday! I missed you. I'm sorry my dad was bad, he gets in trouble a lot." She looked at her father smugly.

Bucky looked at Becca and feigned offense "I do not. Who told you that?"

Becca laughed "Grandma. She said you gave her grey hair."

Bucky and Friday both laughed as they all headed towards the barn.

Once Becca was walking Hilde around the arena Bucky pulled Friday to the side.

"That was Gideon Malick, he's the top dog with Hydra. Doesn't come around much but with Brock dead and Pierce awaiting trial he must have come to find out what's going on. My men did take out a number of his, in addition to Brock. It means we need to be careful."

Friday sighed "Great. I was hoping that drama was past me. I don't know how much more careful I can be, I haven't left my little "compound" in ages."

Bucky looked at her, concerned with a question in his eyes "How would you feel about me and Becca moving in here? I mean, separate rooms of course. I would feel a lot less concerned for your safety if I could be here all the time."

Friday looked at her boots and stammered "B, b, but I I don't want to interfere with your business. How can you keep things running if you're stuck here all the time? And what about Becca? How will she feel about living here?"

Bucky smiled "First of all, I wouldn't consider being near you all the time 'stuck'. Sam and Steve can handle most business and if they can't, they can stay here with you while I'm gone." He gently grabbed her chin and brought her face up to his "I will sleep much better if I'm near you." He kissed her forehead

"And Becca? Are you kidding? She would love to live here. After the last few days I'm pretty sure you and Hilde are her two favorite beings in the world. I've fallen below you, Hilde, my mom, Steve and Sam. Staying here might help me move back up the ranks."

"One of the spare rooms has been storage so you'll have to clean it out." Friday warned him.

Bucky grinned "I think I can handle that" and grabbed his phone to text Clint, Steve and Sam. "Boys will be here in a bit to help get the room cleaned out. They'll stay here while I go get some things for me and Becca. They can take shifts staying next door once we get Becca settled."

He took Friday's hand and kissed it "I won't let anything happen to you, doll. Promise."

After 20 minutes Friday had Becca bring Hilde back to brush her and give her a treat. Once Hilde was put up Bucky told Becca that they would be staying at Friday's for awhile. Becca squealed and gave Bucky a bone crushing hug. Then she gave one to Friday. "Ohmygod, I have to tell Hilde. Wait, where will we sleep? Daddy if it's ok with Friday can you get her some goats? The pig mee ones are so cute. Maybe Alpine will like them. Can I go tell Hilde?"

Friday saw Steve and Sam pull up so took Becca to tell Hilde while the men cleaned out the spare room. Once it was done Becca insisted on showing them Hilde and the other horses while Bucky left to get their clothes and Friday washed the sheets for both guest rooms. She also called Nat and Yelena to invite them over for pizza. Once they arrived Friday explained what was going on.

Nat looked concerned "Are you sure you will be ok with this, having him living here? Can you really trust him after what happened?"

Friday smiled at her "Yes, we had a long talk this morning, look at the bear he brought. He declared his intentions and I told him I needed to take it slow. He understands. Plus Becca will be here so I know he will do anything to keep her safe."

Nat looked skeptical "If you insist, moya lyubov. I'll tell Steve to keep an eye on him"

Friday laughed "Who do you think gave him that black eye? Apparently he was motivated by an angry, red haired, Russian ballerina. I think Bucky might be afraid of you"

Nat smirked "That's the best way to keep em in line."

Yelena interrupted "Ok, ok enough about Bucky and Steve. I need to get laid too. Tell me about Sam? He looks like a snack"

Nat and Friday laughed "I'm not getting laid but Sam does seem like a nice guy and does have a bitable tush. I'll introduce you" Friday took Yelenas hand and pulled her over to where Sam and Steve were drinking beers.

Sam and Yelena started a drinking contest and Friday warned Sam "Be careful, you have no idea how these Russian women can drink. I've never been able to keep up."

While he was on the road Bucky called Tony Stark to let him know about Gideon Malicks return to Brooklyn and visit to Friday's. Tony cursed "Damnit, you would think that mess at Brocks warehouse would have shown Malick that we aren't playing around. My dad told me he was a stubborn prick. I'm sure I'll be hearing from him soon.

Nice work moving your little family in though. Becca must be over the moon. Pepper and I will bring Morgan over soon."

Once Bucky returned, their beds were made and some clothes put away Friday ordered pizza for everyone. She enlisted everyones help feeding the horses while they waited for their food.

After dinner Becca took a bath and Bucky went to take her to bed but she balked "Can Miss Friday tuck me in Daddy? Since it's her house. Please."

Bucky stepped back and nodded while Friday took Becca to the room they had set up for her, the bed covered with Becca's stuffed animals, and told her a story. Afterwards, Friday cleaned up the mess from dinner and bid everyone good night. She tossed and turned all night, hyper aware of Bucky's presence on the other side of her bedroom wall.

Bucky slept better and had vivid dreams of Friday, some very good but others were beyond nightmares.

This was going to be interesting.

Chapter 18

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #friday's place #mob!au

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davidmariottecomics · 1 year

Text

It's All in the Execution

Hello again!

Today is the Trans Day of Remembrance. It caps off Trans Awareness Week. It's a somber occasion. And, content warning for gun violence, hate crimes, injury, and death, this year it is particularly somber as we're reeling from the tragedy at Club Q. It is doubtless that these two incidents are connected. And so today we remember Daniel Aston, as well as the others who were killed. We remember the countless other trans lives that've been ended prematurely. This is going out awfully late into the evening, but please take some time to mourn and grieve and hope for peace and justice for those we've lost.

In terms of practical action, tell a trans person you love them. Maybe send them some money. You can also donate to the Colorado Healing Fund. Or Trans Lifeline. Or the Transgender Law Center. Share this map of informed consent HRT facilities. Follow up with your representatives on any anti-trans legislation in your area. Advocate for your communities and be willing to protect the people in them, by force if necessary.

To get the other serious matters out of the way up top, there are a few comics creators who could really use your help right now. My friend Jeffrey Veregge was diagnosed with Lupus last year and is still hospitalized and his family needs assistance. Tess Fowler and Chris Gutierrez are currently dealing with their own medical emergency. And those are just the ones directly on my radar.

And, finally, our attention turns to Owasso, Oklahoma, where a public school library did one of the dumbest things I can remember hearing about in recent memory: at one parent's complaint about one book, Blankets by Craig Thompson, the school pulled ALL the graphic novels from the shelves for two months and are planning on returning them and adding new ones, but only after every single book is examined page-by-page by an adult who can flag any possibility of sexual or other offensive material. I can only hope that Tim Reiland's daughter grows up to be a more thoughtful individual than he is and that the people in charge of this library are reminded of their duty to present challenging material.

With that all said, I'd also still like to talk a bit about the execution of thematic goals in your work, but if you're too drained, I get it. You can come back later.

This year, Becca and I have been seeing a lot of horror movies. In college, I started getting more into horror and now it's probably the genre most likely to get me into a theater. So far, the two best horror movies we've seen this year are neck-in-neck: Pearl and Barbarian (with X, the other movie in Ti West and Mia Goth's trilogy landing as a solid 3rd, and TBH, we still haven't seen Nope though that's on the agenda for the coming week). I could and will gush about Pearl and X at some point soon. I'll also throw in a good word for House of the Devil, which I feel is a very closely related movie, also by Ti West. Sorry, getting distracted already! Anyway, the point is that A LOT of the movies we've seen this year have been thematically very similar, including those two. But the other three perfectly illustrate a sort of Goldilocks scale of execution of an idea.

The Poppa Bear of the group is Men. I know this movie's very divisive. Some people quite like it for reasons I can't explain. Like Poppa Bear's soup which was too hot or his bed which was too hard, Men was an unpleasant experience. The premise is Alex Garland read a couple articles about feminism and decided he should make a movie about how scary men are to women, forgetting that he already made that movie, Ex Machina. A traumatized woman working through a violent incident in her life goes out to a small English town and all the men in town are portrayed by one actor (an actually impressive feat, but not so much so as to outweigh the movie's flaws) and she thinks she's going crazy because they're all one guy and then the last third gets supernatural, but more importantly, super stupid. "Men are scary" is a really simple theme to build a story on and a worthy one because they are (see above). But one of the things that makes men scary is that they are capable of so much in the real world. That's what Men forgets. Sure, it recognizes that men abuse women physically and emotionally, particularly through gaslighting, but one of it's biggest failings is that as the story continues, the horror becomes removed from that reality. Is it gaslighting if all the men look the same because they're actually played by one guy and also are after you personally? What's the deal with the big "horror set piece" of the story being all the men who are the same guy birthing each other out of the mouth and other assorted made-up holes? It's clearly chosen because there're historically strong connections of womanhood and childbearing (reinforced by the ultimate arrival of the pregnant friend), but uhh... other than her friend being pregnant, it has no bearing on the main character's lived experience. It's just seeing a man do a "womanly" thing like giving birth that's "scary". And that's not scary, nor is it particularly smart commentary because it doesn't actually have anything to do with why men are scary. Anyway, do yourself a favor and don't watch Men. It's the pits. You can watch Ex Machina instead. Or maybe you could watch...

The Momma Bear of the group is Don't Worry Darling. Another divisive movie. This one's debatably a "horror", it's more psychological thriller, but I think those're inter-related enough to count. Like Momma Bear's bed, it's not firm enough. The premise is Harry Styles and Florence Pugh live an idyllic 1950s-esque planned community, organized by the mysterious Chris Pine. While Harry, Chris, and the other men go off every day to work on a mysterious project, the women are restricted to the community and to lives as housewives. But all is not what it seems... Spoilers: The men? Slightly scary. Unlike Men (BTW, hate that as a title because it makes talking about other men in the same analysis so hard), rather than turning the systemic oppression of women into a tête-à-tête between one woman and one many-man, it actually explores things on the levels of real communities and the power dynamics that men have both historically exercised and that many men seem to still fantasize about. Genuinely, the highest praise I can give this movie is that the female-gazed horror is a male-power fantasy. It indulges in the reasons why men act the way they do and in doing so actually gives it a reason to be scary. In terms of it not being firm enough, it's a bit unevenly paced and toned, so the stakes don't really feel material for most of the movie--there's too much mystery about what's going on that even when the audience knows something is wrong, they don't feel that the danger is imminent. It's a solid 6.5 or 7 out of 10, but again, you'd probably be better off watching the director's other movie, Booksmart. Or, you could watch...

Barbarian is a movie you should go into with very little knowledge. The Baby Bear of the group all you need to know is that it is just right. Nah, but like, if you usually check content warnings before horror movies, do that, otherwise, the only description you're getting from me is a woman of color shows up at her AirB&B only to find that it's already occupied by a man claiming he rented it who invites her in to sort things out and from there things happen. And, hey, that premise--already more realistically scary than either of the other two because that's shit that could actually happen. It is a complex movie that manages to actually have something to say--and was written and directed by one of the Whitest Kids U' Know (which I just found out, the twists keep coming with this one!). But, suffice to say, by the end of the movie, you'll get that men are scary and why and have that layered with so much more. It's a masterpiece of filmmaking and of using your story--the location, the cast, the pacing, the plot elements--to tell a cohesive story that not only covers the thematic message you want to convey, but embodies it and grows into something more as it continues.

This is going awfully long again, so let me conclude with two last things.

1. The live reenactment of Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip by Alec Robbins, Grace Freud, and friends was AMAZING. Some of the funniest comedy I've ever had the pleasure of seeing live. If the TV show had been half as good as this one-off reenactment, I actually think it would've lasted more than a season. I don't know that anyone will ever be able to see it if you weren't there, but it was magical!

2. Becca's got their last artist's alley of the year on Tuesday. It's NiteNite Night with Biz Baz Club and New Motion Brewery. There'll be artists selling cool stuff just in time for the holidays and karaoke! Becca's going to have some new merch debuting! It'll be a good time! I'll be there too, but only to help Becca. More info in the image! Hope to see you there!

Pic of the Week #2: As promised with the other post this week, here's a not great picture I took of Tiansheng and I cuddled on the couch when Becca was out of town earlier in the week. He's cute!

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sl-newsie · 1 year

Text

Chapter Fifteen: Court In Session (Spot Colon x Female Newsie)

We walk to tha Manhattan courthouse and find tha ‘Hattan newsies, plus a few from Queens, wait’n outside. I notice they’s also tried to gussie up a bit for tha trial. When they see us, they all leap for joy.

“Becs! You’re safe!”

“You’s alright!”

“No one can take Becca!”

“Spot got ya out ok?”

I grin. “Hey guys. Yeah, I’s fine. You’s all ok?”

“Yeah, but it weren’t tha same without ya last night. We’s had to make up our own bedstories to tell tha kids!” Blink complains.

“Don’t worry. Ya can tell Kenny I’ll be back soon,” I say. “Now c’mon, let’s not keep tha judge wait’n.”

In ten minutes we’re all stand’n in tha courtroom, look’n oudda place more than rats in a beauty parlor. Spot puts his arm near me, try’n to get the oddas to give me space. I give him a grateful, hopeful look.

“All rise, all rise. Court is now in session. Judge E.A. Monahan presiding.”

I still don’t see Jack…

“Are any of you boys,” the judge frowns at me. “And young lady represented by a council?”

I scrunch my nose. What tha heck is a-?

“No? Good, then things will move along considerably.”

My mouth hangs open. How dare he-!

“Ya honor, I object,” Spot pipes up.

Tha judge gives him an annoyed look. “On what grounds?”

“On tha grounds of Brooklyn, ya Honor.”

Tha fellas burst out laugh’n and I can’t help crack’n up too. I lean ova to Spot: “That mouth of yours is gonna get you’s in trouble!” I mock his warn’n.

“I ain’t worried.”

“I fine each of you five dollars or two weeks’ confinement in the House of Refuge.”

We all stop laugh’n. Five dollas?! I couldn’t make that in a week!

“We ain’t got five dollas!” Blink speaks up.

“We ain’t even got five cents,” Race complains. “Hey, ya Honor, how ‘bout I roll ya for it? Double or noth’n?”

Some laugh, while I clasp a hand ova his big mouth. “Gambl’n ain’t gonna help us here!” I hiss.

“Alright. Move along, move along.”

I can’t believe it- how’s we gonna pay this-?

“I’ll pay the fees, your Honor.”

I look up and see Denton, Les, and David enter. Good, they can help us!

“Where’s Jack?” David asks.

“Don’t know. I-” I gasp. Here comes Jack, be’n led in with handcuffs. I smile a wide, thankful smile.

“Hey fellas!”

“Nice shina, Cowboy!” Race comments. Oh God, it looks bad...

“Ya ok, Becca?” Jack asks.

I nod. “Ya had me worried, Jack! But everything’s gonna be fine-”

“Case of Jack Kelly. Inciting a riot, assault, resisting arrest.” Tha bailiff announces.

And then Satan himself steps into tha room.

“Judge Monahan, I’ll speak for this young man,” Snyder says.

My face falls. No… no!

“No!” I protest. Spot grabs my hand as a signal to be silent. No… not Jack… He can’t…

“This boy’s real name is Francis Sullivan. His mother’s deceased, and his father is a convict in the state penitentiary. He’s an escapee from the House of Refuge where his original sentence for three months was extended to six months for disruptive behavior. He last tried an attempted escape.”

“Attempted? Last time it wasn’t attempted! Remember Roosevelt, Snyder? Remember tha carriage?” Jack asks angrily.

“Therefore I ask that he be returned to the House of Refuge,” Snyder finishes.

My knees weaken. No…

“What? For my own good, right?” Jack yells at tha judge. “For my own good, and what he kicks back to ya!”

“I ask that the court order his incarceration until the age of twenty-one in hope that we may yet guide him to a useful and productive life.”

“So ordered.” The judge concludes.

“No!” Les screams. I would do tha same, but I’ve lost my voice. All I can do is stare in shock and sadness at Jack, know’n this may be tha last time I see him. When my knees threaten to drop me, Spot props me up. How could this get any worse…

“Your Honor, I have one more request,” Snyder says. “That young girl is supposedly Jack Kelly’s sister, and has been harboring this fugitive. I ask that she be placed in the House of Refuge for five months.”

That’s when Spot clings to me tighter- both for me not fall’n and not go’n over to punch Synder in his schem’n face. He protectively steps in front of me, and the oddas make a barrier to hide me. Me, in tha Refuge? Why don’t they just kill me?

“No!” Jack yells. “I’ll take tha extra five- I’s tha one who took her in. She’s done noth’n wrong.”

“So ordered that Jack Kelly will pay the extra five.”

“Jack, no!” I want to die!

“Don’t worry ‘bout me, Becs. Just look out for yourself.”

“No! No!” I scream as Jack is lead away. Tha fellas begin follow’n Denton to Tibby’s, but I can’t move. I’ve physically lost all sensation in my legs, and Spot’s tha only one keep’n me from fall’n.

“They took him,” I whispa. “They took him…”

“C’mon, Beauty. Ya godda walk,” Spot urges.

I do, slowly. When we reach tha restaurant, we’s just in time to hear that Denton’s quit’n.

“What!?” I bark. “Just ‘cause you’s get’n a fancy new job means you’s just gonna walk out on us?! After what Jack did?!”

“Goodbye, Miss Kelly. Or should I say, goodbye Miss Sullivan.”

Tha name sounds foreign to my ears. Jack had neva told me his real name, and I’d neva asked to know it. Now that I know about it, I’d neva assumed Jack weren’t his real name.

When Denton’s gone, Boots asks: “Becca, you’s gonna explain why Jack and you lied ‘bout your names?”

“No.”

David makes an announcement: “We get Jack out of the Refuge tonight, and from now on we don’t trust anyone but the newsies.”

We all agree, then wanda back out. I keep walk’n ‘til I get to tha riva. I won’t be part of a cause that might go south ‘cause of a goil.

“How to rise from the floor,

When it's not you I'm rising for?

Just do the next right thing….”

I shudda and let tears flow down my face.

“Should I leave ya be?” I hear behind me.

I hastily wipe my face off. “No, I’s fine. It just like Jack said: I shouldn’t rely on anybody.”

“Beauty, you’s can’t-”

“Stop call’n me that! I told ya I hate that nickname!”

“Well I can’t help call’n a goil ‘beauty’ if that’s what she is!” Spot walk over and lifts my chin up with his cane. “You know why I call ya ‘beauty’? ‘Cause you’s tha prettiest thing I’s seen in this lousy place.”

I roll my eyes, avoid’n eye contact. “Then you ain’t seen much.”

“I’s seen a lot, and trust me- I’s right.” He smirks.

I don’t know what to say. I’ve never had this happen…

“You’s aint too bad yourself,” I reply. “Sorry to take off, but I bedda get back. Kenny and the oddas’ll be wait’n for me.”

“Hate to keep ‘em wait’n. Don’t worry, Beauty. Things’ll get bedda. We’ll win tha strike and make Jack proud.”

“Yeah, we will. Thanks for… you know, last night.” I mess with my hands, not sure how to say this.

“I’s here for you whenever you need me, Beauty. Take care of yourself.”

“See ya, Spot.”

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