Billy Hargrove (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
playingtough) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
revivalproject2023-05-08 07:50 pm
playingtough) wrote in revivalproject2023-05-08 07:50 pm
Fortunate Son - Creedance Clearwater Revival
WHO: Billy Hargrove; Open
WHERE: Fountain
WHAT: Showing up in this city beats being dead
WHEN: May 8th
WARNINGS: S3 finale spoilers for Stranger Things?
This doesn't feel anything like Starcourt's floor. The glossy and tiled smoothness of it against his back is missing. It's rough and jagged, like Billy's laying on a gravel road. Or maybe it feels like that as blood seeps out from his sides. It stains up into his white tank top, into the waistband of his jeans. There's faint lines lining his arms and temples where he had been controlled.
Then he feels the pull. Towards a glowing orb and it hurts - fuck does it hurt like hell - to move, but he manages to touch it. And immediately goes down with a yell, brain trying to process all of that and still reeling from being back in the driver's seat of his head again.
Onto his back he goes, blue eyes at the sky again. There's a lot of blood lost from the two wounds, and Billy realizes that's probably why he feels weak. He's not supposed to feel like this, he's Billy Hargrove. King of Hawkins, pretty boy and playboy.
God he's killed so many people in the span of a month, even though it wasn't his fault.
He coughs and finds the strength to wipe away the wetness. Saliva, good, it wasn't blood. He knew coughing up blood was a bad sign at least. He heard about it from-
No, don't think about her right now.
Billy lays there, turning his head to look around. Was there anyone around? He needs to call for help. And he does, a choked out "...help," that has an edge to it because he's not going to be heard as weak as long as he can help it.
WHERE: Fountain
WHAT: Showing up in this city beats being dead
WHEN: May 8th
WARNINGS: S3 finale spoilers for Stranger Things?
This doesn't feel anything like Starcourt's floor. The glossy and tiled smoothness of it against his back is missing. It's rough and jagged, like Billy's laying on a gravel road. Or maybe it feels like that as blood seeps out from his sides. It stains up into his white tank top, into the waistband of his jeans. There's faint lines lining his arms and temples where he had been controlled.
Then he feels the pull. Towards a glowing orb and it hurts - fuck does it hurt like hell - to move, but he manages to touch it. And immediately goes down with a yell, brain trying to process all of that and still reeling from being back in the driver's seat of his head again.
Onto his back he goes, blue eyes at the sky again. There's a lot of blood lost from the two wounds, and Billy realizes that's probably why he feels weak. He's not supposed to feel like this, he's Billy Hargrove. King of Hawkins, pretty boy and playboy.
God he's killed so many people in the span of a month, even though it wasn't his fault.
He coughs and finds the strength to wipe away the wetness. Saliva, good, it wasn't blood. He knew coughing up blood was a bad sign at least. He heard about it from-
No, don't think about her right now.
Billy lays there, turning his head to look around. Was there anyone around? He needs to call for help. And he does, a choked out "...help," that has an edge to it because he's not going to be heard as weak as long as he can help it.