hereliesbitches--me

[hereliesbitches--me]

As it turns out I'll have no choice but to make a whole new tumblr since it won't let me make a sideblog main. I'll be sure to follow all of you as soon as it's ready

Still gonna be the same blog name as before. I'll see yall there

[hereliesbitches--me]

I'm in fact revamping this as an art blog people, mf Yolo.

I'm neck deep in baldur's gate 3 and I look for any excuse to make Rosie blue. And a menace to society. Astarion is her partner in crime and that can't be taken from me

[hereliesbitches--me]

Thanks for coming!

this blog has been archived so I don't lose my fav stuff . This'll be a place for art memes now

You can find me over @xxsacrificiumxx as usual. May still be working on it but hope you enjoy the memes babe

I'll be writing and plotting with you later 😘

[hereliesbitches--me]

Its gonna be a while but I've decided I'm gonna archive and move things over. I shall be going through and following all the homies again when I'm done

I hope the name makes yall laugh. But I'm gonna come back the baddest traumatized bitch in the game. And we gonna write and plot like there's no tomorrow

Love yall!

[hereliesbitches--me]

Ngl some days I wanna delete this blog and start fresh. Other times I think maybe I'll archive. But I do want to have a fresh face because I think a lot of the people I used to know aren't here anymore

Its depressing. The stress of life has sapped my motivation to do anything at all, but it circles my mind all day

I hope yall are doing better than I am

[hereliesbitches--me]

I know media likes loving siblings that struggle together but let's bring back sibling dynamics that throw hands with each other because they are annoying but will protect each other as needed

Mia is the absolute worst as an entitled girl with "Special child" syndrome, she's practically a bully if she's not the center of attention, but none of it works on her older brother who will happily sit on her and hang her upside down from the staircase

[hereliesbitches--me]

characters who continuously tell themselves they’re okay and even start to believe it until someone says their name very gently and asks if they’re alright, at which point the facade crumbles completely

[hereliesbitches--me]

I'm trapped without a car, a long list of drawing obligations, so I apologize for my absence. But know that I'm always available to talk and plot and throw ideas back and forward.

In the meantime, I've been doodling some character interactions and my fav boys. I hope you all have been well

I always miss you

[hereliesbitches--me]

 has your muse ever felt as though they’ve been reborn ?  have they ever desired the feeling of a fresh start ,   or a better understanding of themself and/or the world around them ?  

Random Asks (ALWAYS ACCEPTED)

A consistent theme I have for Iniquitous Essence (IE) and its main cast of character revolves heavy around the way they develop and change as people based on the world and the drastic events that warp them. Focusing on the big two of this blog, lets deep dive:

Rosie Valentine

Considering her to be one of the primary leads of IE, she is a character whose entire theme is about "dying" and being reborn again and again as something new that can survive in the environment Shes been forced into. The symbolic catalyst for these changes, Ironically, being flame and chaos. Depending on the era in which you meet her, Rosie is a very different person: from childhood, her days in the calvary, her time in Tennessee, to the well-known "Unbreakable Sphinx" hero facade Shes picked up now late in life. The designated marking points of being "reborn" is at the cusp of each of these life phases -- so lets talk about the very first

The first time she felt she was reborn, letting the old life die and the new one rise from its ashes was when she initially left the calvary. Left it, I should mention it, collapsing in on itself in a smoldering mass of corpses of soldiers, monsters, and melting tech alike. She had set up the detonation that caved the entirety of the base underground, and she'd killed off every one of her former teammates to make sure there was no ties to say this version of her had ever existed at all. Up until that point, Rosie can say she had no discernable personality of her own. Her life from 14 to 22 was spent in perpetual survival mode as she was preyed upon, manipulated, beaten down on, and overall had no real hope for what a future could look like for someone like her. What was the point of it when all she wanted was to die? For a small era she had almost had a blip of hope when Kasimir came along, promised her that they'd break away from this, be heroes and have a family together. And for once in her life she believed it

But even that was short lived and decimated right before her eyes when kasimir was cast out of the Calvary unit. 17 years old back in the jaws of the wolves and no one to save her anymore. She miscarried the baby they were suppose to have.. then that point on marked the ascension of change.

When Rosie watched that base burn down, where all her tormentors got an express early preview ticket of Hell she thought they belonged to, it was the very first time in her life that she felt she could breathe. The first time she felt like she was waking up as a person... and now had to discover who she was outside of being a victim or a soldier. The old Rosita Roselyn had died in a mechanical malfunction that killed hundreds of soldiers, priests, and demons in a blazing pit of meat and molten metal, no one suspected who was the real cause of it... she was free, reborn to be who she pleases.

Unfortunately for her, the first run of the person she chose to be was not perfect or as good as she wanted to be. Which leads to the second evolution: When did she desire a fresh start?

An 6 year era following the end of the calvary, Rosie lived in Tennessee as a caretaker for a monster she stole from that very base she destroyed, Nikki (A character for an entirely separate post to talk about). The personality Rosie developed with her newfound freedom was not really a person, but rather an agglomeration of personality aspects and traits she had picked from a variety of the significant figures in her life, and the biproduct of her divided psyche coping with the sudden and drastic change from survival mode to... person mode. Rosie never really got out of survival mode... instead she became good at pretending. To be the friendly deputy of a small town everyone could rely on, while behind the scenes she was still as calculative and manipulative as she needed to be to ensure the safety of herself and Nikki. Even if it meant harming Nikki with lies and guilt to keep her safe. For her own good, Rosie tells herself. If she has everything under control, they are safe.

In this same era, she discovers new feelings of love for a waitress -- but is it really love, or projection of longing for what was? Love and lies dont really go hand in hand, neither does paranoia and distrust. So driven to keep everything under control, convinced she can keep what she loves safe by being this monster, Rosie ends up being the cause of her own downfall as things spiral out of her control. Nikki found and saved by the father of her children, the waitress she adored suddenly very aware of the monster Rosie is slowly revealing herself to be and leaves her for her fellow deputy, the very same deputy that closes in in preparation to reveal the serial killer that Rosie Is ; Then she was alone again. Everything that she held dear and tried so hard to protect slipping past her fingers. Because she lacked the ability to realize she was suffocating them in her palms and digging in with her claws.

Left to her own accord, she realizes the person she made herself to be at that time was a mistake... So what was there left to do? Allow herself to be caught, or follow Nikki and try again?

Too much to be done, she couldn't afford she be caught or to die... at the very least, she could try to do right this time around. Gain forgiveness by helping from afar. ' Her move to New York at age 28 marks yet another transformative era of rebirth, shedding the skin and bad habits of her old life to improve herself. Give up her obsession with control and take initiative to make meaningful relationships outside of what she needs people for. Be... kind. Gain a sense of humor. Give herself worth outside of being a soldier and a fighter.

She becomes the beloved Sphinx, the friend and maternal figure that will always have your back and defend you from dangers. Give you a way out. Curbed her more violent instincts like the monster of Tennessee and the calvary days had never existed. But its not truly dead. She is a mom now in her 40s -- she's tired, but endlessly giving. She does the best she can to make everyone happy because they deserve it. And she takes the torment and the punishment because that's what monsters deserve. That is how justice is served. It's what she is good for.

Jacob McCool

While less dramatic in his developmental stages, Jacob is another main cast in IE whose development is more so in terms of emotional maturity. The massive heavy hitter we see now was once just an orphaned kid that was lost in the foster system. Mistreated because of an inherent strength he didn't have the experience or know-how to control. Deemed a liar because he heard things talking, heard sounds that no one else did. The lack of support had led him down a path of delinquency for the sake of survival. He didn't always have the ability to solidify his muscle into weapons and claws and armor. He was always big, always fast and stronger than the average person. But still just a cocky teenager like anyone else his age. If no one would believe him, he would be the monster child they painted him to be. For most of his early teens he was a delinquent, got in with the wrong crowd to run paraphernalia for a good chunk of cash. Not that he was any good at money management, but he ate whatever he liked and lived in the bare minimum of abandoned places to pass his time. Things went well... up until he was the unknowing goods being traded up. Betrayed by his own boss, a 17-year-old Jacob is tied up and sold off to a military division who want to unlock the full potential of his power to replicate it. Prodded, cut open, beaten down, pumped full of chemicals, assaulted -- all trials to push the limit of his capabilities, to activate that hidden gene that angels have that he knows nothing about. He could have been there for days to months to years -- he had no real sense of passing time as he hung onto life. til the day those desired abilities they tortured him for finally activated.

They got what they wanted but did not account what could be done with those powers in the hands of a starving half rabid animal. The details are blurry to him; just a slideshow of red, a symphony of gunfire, squelching meat, crunching bones, twisting metal, and gurgled screams. Then he's suddenly out in the open air, breathing in that fresh city smog -- a new freak of nature, with bulging muscles that took the gunfire like plastic pellets and claws that ripped through steel and meat like paper. Whatever he was before he was dragged down to that pit had died successfully and what came out was something new, something worse, that they could never beat. A man with a newfound fear of needles and the pungent stench of hospitals, ever angrier, ever more distrusting, knowing the only one who will look out for him is himself. Newly reborn Abaddon as they'll come to call him.

The desire for a fresh start comes further down the line, as paths cross and his life is yet again turned upside down by the arrival of his own children he thought to have died in the womb. Sometime in his early 20s he had met a 17-year-old Nikki, and it had only been a year before their relationship fell apart following the perceived death of what would have been their twins. Rejected and blamed by Nikki and told to leave, emotionally immature as he was, he did exactly what he was told. Angry and heartbroken but unwilling to compromise if that's what she wanted from him. For nearly 10 years he had drowned himself in a career in underground fighting for cash. Made himself friends in Rocky and Guts, and tried to forget about anything that had to do with the pretty girl that broke his heart. Then out of the blue a little girl shows up -- has his scowling face and unruly hair, but all too familiar beauty of a woman he never forgot. At first in denial, an absolute dick to this kid he thought was yet another government trap to catch him, it's with the coaxing (verbal berating, maybe getting smacked in the back of the skull a few times) of his friends that gets him to face the music that he is in fact a dad. And he has a moral obligation to find his whole family, save them, and bring them all back together.

But life is never quite that simple, is it? Its always nice at first. A spree of excitement for something new, something different, and something familiar. Here he had his girl back, had kids... and he had no fuckin idea how to be a dad or a husband. In typical jacob fashion, he fucks it up too.

He comes to realize that people don't always grow and stay compatible with each other... for all the love he had for Nikki, she had grown into a woman of her own, and he has still stayed that immature boy who only knew how to save the day and nothing else after he gets the girl. It costs him everything. What good was he if he could not make her happy? If she was always disappointed in his inability to keep up with her in conversation and interest?

After getting a job within the angel project thanks to Rosie, he takes it in stride that his family is better off when hes not around to ruin everything. He leaves them the house, still pays the bills and picks up the kids every other week, and finds a different place to bunk.

A fresh start comes only after you have everything to gain and nothing else to lose. In finding out he has a family; he sets out on a journey to be the better man both Nikki and his twins need him to be. Even if it means coparenting from afar. There was more to life than just food and fighting to see tomorrow.

[hereliesbitches--me]

*pussy suddenly starts throbbing* what is it girl?? what do you see???

[hereliesbitches--me]

What kind of pining are you?

Rosie: Hands

The brush of skin on skin makes you go insane. Your touch starvation is getting out of hand, no pun intended. you have a mental list of every time you've touched them and you'll come up with more excuses to expand the list. Bodies were made to fit together and you think theirs would fit yours nicely. Oh to hold, to be held.

Jacob: Rivalry

if you fight with them loud enough, they won't be able to hear your pounding heart. You put yourself on a pedestal to pretend they don't feel out of your reach. Maybe someday you can convince yourself you deserve them. Every time they triumph, they win your heart again, but you'll never admit that.

Tagged by: @iincantatorum

Tagging: If you see this, tag you're fuckin it. I wanna see your info on my dash let's goooo

[hereliesbitches--me]

Rosie, Keeper of the Evergreen Staff

The Evergreen Staff: Carved from the heartwood of an ancient and wise tree, the Evergreen Staff represents the essence of nature's wisdom and vitality. It is entrusted to the guardian of the fae realm's forests, granting them the ability to commune with plants, control the growth of flora, and maintain the delicate equilibrium of the natural world.

The List of Fae Artifacts

--- @xxsacrificiumxx ---

Rosie's role as the High Lady of the Spring Court and her connection to the realm of Zethela are essential for maintaining the health and balance of her land. As the guardian of the Evergreen Staff, a powerful fae artifact, her responsibilities are heightened. The Evergreen Staff likely possesses significant magical properties that are closely intertwined with nature, growth, and the vitality of the Spring Court.

As the guardian, Rosie would be tasked with protecting and harnessing the power of the Evergreen Staff. The staff may have the ability to channel and amplify her own powers, allowing her to exert even greater control over the land and its natural energies. By wielding the Evergreen Staff, Rosie can ensure the prosperity and well-being of the Spring Court, as the artifact's magic likely enhances her ability to nurture and rejuvenate the land.

However, being the guardian of such an important artifact also comes with great responsibility. Rosie must safeguard the Evergreen Staff from those who might seek to exploit its power or use it for nefarious purposes. She would likely need to make difficult decisions and potentially face challenges from external threats or internal conflicts within the fae community.

In summary, Rosie's role as the High Lady of the Spring Court and her connection to Zethela's land are crucial for maintaining the realm's health. Her appointment as the guardian of the Evergreen Staff further strengthens her position, granting her access to potent magic that can help her fulfill her duties as a protector and nurturer of the Spring Court.

As the guardian of the Evergreen Staff, Rosie may be required to perform certain rituals or practices to properly harness and maintain the power of the artifact. While the specifics of these rituals can vary depending on the lore or mythology of the fictional world in which Rosie exists, here are some common examples of the types of practices she might engage in:

Invocation and Bonding: Rosie may need to perform an initial ritual to establish a connection with the Evergreen Staff. This could involve reciting incantations, offering prayers, or even undergoing a symbolic initiation that binds her to the artifact.

Purification and Cleansing: To ensure the purity and potency of the staff's magic, Rosie might undertake regular purification rituals. This could involve using specific herbs, sacred waters, or other cleansing elements to cleanse both herself and the staff of any negative energies or influences.

Communion with Nature: As the Evergreen Staff is deeply connected to nature, Rosie might need to engage in rituals that involve communing with the natural elements. This could include spending time in sacred groves, conducting ceremonies during seasonal transitions, or connecting with the spirits of the land.

Energy Alignment: Rosie may have to align her personal energies with the Evergreen Staff to tap into its full potential. This could involve meditation, visualization, or channeling her own magic through the staff to synchronize their energies and amplify her abilities.

Protection and Security: As the guardian, Rosie would likely need to employ protective rituals or enchantments to safeguard the Evergreen Staff from unauthorized access or malicious intentions. This might include creating magical barriers, setting up wards, or enlisting the aid of other magical beings to defend the artifact.

Here are some additional examples of protective rituals that Rosie might use to safeguard the Evergreen Staff:

Enchantment of Concealment: Rosie could perform a ritual that cloaks the presence of the Evergreen Staff, making it difficult for others to detect or locate. This could involve invoking illusions, creating a mystical aura of invisibility, or placing an enchantment that masks the staff's true form.

Warding Circle: Rosie might create a powerful warding circle around the Evergreen Staff to prevent unauthorized access. This ritual could involve inscribing intricate symbols or sigils on the ground or surrounding objects, infusing them with protective magic. The warding circle acts as a barrier, repelling or alerting Rosie to any unauthorized attempts to approach or touch the staff.

Elemental Guardians: Rosie could invoke elemental spirits or mythical creatures associated with the Spring Court and assign them as guardians of the Evergreen Staff. These guardians could be tasked with defending the artifact, patrolling its vicinity, or alerting Rosie to any potential threats.

Ritual of Binding: Rosie might perform a binding ritual that links the Evergreen Staff to her own essence, ensuring that only she can wield its power. This ritual could involve invoking ancient oaths, sealing the bond with her blood, or imprinting her magical signature upon the staff. Such a binding would make it extremely difficult for others to manipulate or misuse the artifact.

Alarm Enchantment: Rosie could cast an enchantment that triggers an alarm or warning when someone approaches the Evergreen Staff without her permission. This ritual would create a magical alert system, alerting Rosie or her trusted allies to any unauthorized access or tampering with the artifact.

Guardian Spirit Invocation: Rosie might invoke the aid of powerful guardian spirits associated with the Spring Court to watch over the Evergreen Staff. These spirits could be bound to the artifact, manifesting as ethereal beings that patrol its surroundings and act as protectors in times of need.

[hereliesbitches--me]

Hc of the day:

Rosie tends to keep herself in uncomfortable places and relationships because she has a habit of punishing herself. She has an internalized belief that she is a terrible person and terrible things happen to bad people, so she deserves that discomfort

At the same time that self harming punishment takes a major toll on her mental state while she just tries to pretend it doesn't. Keep all the wheels turning and functioning for everyone else then it doesn't matter what happens to her as long as she's needed and useful to someone.

[hereliesbitches--me]

“ Its not as bad as you think.”

    She spoke so easily from across the way, busying herself around the kitchen. Setting out plates, cleaning dishes, tending to kids. Like it was normal. Like she was normal. She kept her back turned to the other, the sound of her children a soothing white noise to her senses as they played in the living room. She was making dinner…It helped, now adays , to keep herself busy with anything. Because anything better than being trapped with her thoughts.  Rosie shot a glance over her shoulder then, her eyes opened wider than they normally were before, flashing with something unreadable. She gave a crooked grin, just enough to prove her point, before looking away and focusing back on the task at hand.  After washing her hands, she dug her slim fingers into the grounded beef in a bowl to thoroughly mixed the ingredients all chucked together for meatballs. 

“ I’m doing okay. Im just fine, see? ”

But did they notice how careful she was to keep the distance? To avoid their touch? 

   The angel liked the feeling of the meat in her hand – soft, malleable, and breakable. It squelched when she squeezed it in her hands, much like humans did if you had the strength to get a hold of a limb. The small mass gave her a sense of power and control  Elements that seemed so frail and scarce in her life as of recent. Just so easy to rip away from her hands, when she was nothing but a shambled doll, held together by thin threads, just waiting to be pulled apart again. Adding another dash of garlic, she kneaded it in once more before she got to pulling and molding the meat into sizable round chunks.

“ You’re staying for dinner, right? We’re having Spaghetti and meatballs tonight. Plenty to go around. The kids missed having any family around.”

They loved spaghetti.. The kids loved it, and it made them happy. Seeing them happy made her happy.. It gave her a quiet moment of temporary peace in watching them eat so ravenously. Knowing she had done something right – after a series of wrongs. 

    Rosie had become accustomed to these sorts of visits. She knew why people came, even when they wouldn’t say it. She could see it in the way they looked at her, in how they studied her every move. Their eyes sympathetic for the poor woman she was. They were looking for the signs, for the markings ; Itching to ask her about the event that unfolded, and how she’s dealing.  They came because they wanted to make her remember. They wanted to know what had come of it. But she didn't want to remember. 

She gave a mindless nod to her guest, not really entirely certain if they had answered her question. But she nodded nonetheless. To just bob her head. As the minutes passed, she let the silence linger. One a platter of palm sized meatballs were set out, they were ready to be tossed into the crock pot with the boiling pasta sauce. She set them in carefully one by one, orienting them to be certain they were submerged and evenly spaced in the deep pot. She covered it afterwards, drained the pasta from the other pot, then too let it sit with the cover to keep it warm. Now all that was left was to wait for it to be done.

waiting for it to be done…  That’s how she had felt in that moment. When she was sprawled out on the table top, bound and hazy. She could remember the stench in the room, and the warm breath on her skin. It sticks like the water vapor of steam.  Her vision was blurry, her muscles aching, and her body left helpless to the violent hands that squeezed her like grounded meat.That molded her just the same. 

   Rosie found herself staring blankly at the rising steam from her pot. Her ears rotating atop her head, reacting to every sound. Her mind was drifting ; Distancing the world around her to dull shades and deafening sound to nothing but an annoying ring in her ears. She suddenly became so small, and everything was out of her reach.  What she heard was her heart beat pounding in her chest, quick and painful. Fearful.  It fights to get out of the very body it’s caged in, afraid of foreign hands that aggressively pulled and pawed at its vessel. They were dangerously close – TOO CLOSE – as they bruised her breasts. Her heart, her soul just inches from reach.  The thoughts make her feel cold.. Filth sticking to her skin, weeks after, that she couldn’t wash away. She felt like a teenage girl again, crying when no one would hear.

It didnt happen

      IT SHOULDN'T HAVE HAPPENED. 

…not again….

She told herself again and again. To fight the cold and the dark that seeped into her bones.  Just like she did as a girl, holding herself in the aftermath of shredded linens and bodily fluids they left her sitting in    …I’ll never let it happen again…

It was the ideals she build herself on. The grow to be untouchable, where it could never happen again. Her skin was thick, her soul was strong.  But it was not safe.  No, it was ripped from her. Just like it had been the first time. Ripped away like the clothes from her body. He ripped away her hardened skin, ripped away the layers of progress and development that made her feel alright, til she was a cadaver of raw, fragile muscle and bone once more. Until the mountain became a tiny molehill of loose dirt. Shapeless and pitiful. without structure, or elegance. No longer carrying the grandness of a mountain, she was as admirable as the blackened earth that worms writhed through. Filth to be walked on, scuffed at, and scraped off in annoyance. 

She should have stopped it. She should have been stronger.  All the power in the world and she fell victim to a mad man. For what? She wanted to be a hero. 

she always wanted to be a hero.   But was it worth the cost?

She should have fought harder. She should have screamed, and thrashed, and bit –    You should’ve-      You Should’ve-         YOU SHOULD’VE-

It always came back to that thought. Always lingering on the fault in her actions that could have changed the tides and saved her life. Or saved another’s.  It was burned in her fractured mind, every mistep and mistake that marred her fragmented soul with a new brand of reminded failure. 

What’s done is done. And no amount of wishing could turn back the hands of time. 

A seed had been sewed inside her, and she felt the quickening of life the moment it’s heart began to beat. The unwanted now placed inside a cursed body, it was a spiteful flower with thorned roots to reap from her all that she was. From all that was left.       A final nail to her coffin. It stirred violence in her muscles, and anger in her mind. Rosie craved to rip it out. To rip out all that she was, bloody entrails and all. But she knew better than to cause more bodily harm. She couldn’t afford more scars her family could see.. 

Stop. Stop thinking. 

Slowly the world was coming back to her. It all came back to proper size, the colors of life returning as they were. She realized, suddenly, that her guest had been talking to her. How long had she been silent? How long had she been entrapped in herself? She hoped it hand’t been too long.

“ Im sorry I wasn’t paying attention. I was day dreaming.”

She apologized in a tender voice, looking over her food once more, and then settling with the fact that all was set. She simply had to wait.  Pulling her hand from the pot cover’s handle, she wiped the steam vapor from her now reddened wrists and turned around to meet the other fully.  With sunken eyes and pallid skin that has long lost its color, Rosie was far more deteriorated than she realized. She wore layers upon layers of baggy clothing that kept her comfortable in its safe embrace. She had no safe arms to fall into at the moment, and truthfully she feared her own reaction should she take up the offer. From even her own lover.  The worried look on her guest’s face disturbed her lightly. Her smile faltered slightly, her brows came together.

“ Don’t look at me like that. I’m not that crazy.. Its alright. Relax a little.”  Rosie huffed and scuffed with a shake of her head. Picking up her mug, she gave one last look at the stove timer, then walked forward to join the other at the table. She sat slowly, just like how she moved, with the slightest visible pain in every every motion.She let out a long exhale she hadn’t realized she was holding in , then let her body sink into the cushioned chair.  Bringing the cup to her lips, her hand still trembled lightly, as though still withdrawing from the heroin shot in her veins. The effects had subsided some time ago.. Now, Rosie thought, perhaps it was just phantom pain and muscle memory. 

She took long, lingering sips of the warm chocolate milk in her cup. She savored the comfort in it, as it fights the chill in her body as it went down her throat. She gave a satisfying sigh, then took a deep breath.   She knew what the guest was waiting for.. How they looked at her, and waited patiently for her to speak. To give them the information they desired, without having to ask. Rosie gave them a humorless laugh,

  “ I know what you’re thinking.. What you’re waiting for..        You think im broken up and need help.

         But im not. Im doing just fine. After all - ”

    DENY DENY DENY

“ Dont you know I’m invincible? Nothing can break me. Nothing stops ‘The Sphinx’ ,

That’s my reputation, and I have to uphold it.  ”

[hereliesbitches--me]

Starter for Billy @godstrayed

When Rosie had first learned about Billy Hargrove, it had been of no significance; He was nothing more than a passive topic shared by her daughter : 

Max's older brother , a real ass who seemed to have a problem with Lucas. And for reasons that her daughter could not understand, Mia herself as well 

At the time he was written off as nothing more than an irrelevant racist boy from a small midwestern town in the 80s, with more pressing matters at hand regarding Will Byers and the parasite that he seemed to have brought through from the Upsidedown. 

If he says anything to you personally, Mia,

Rosie spoke casually as she served her tween daughter dinner that night, sliding cutlets of breaded chicken onto the plate with two very large and well-polished kitchen knives,  

You punch him square across the face. Or in the crotch, if that's easier. Or, if you don't want to do it yourself, you let me know and I'll make sure that boy never bothers you or Lucas again.

Then that was the end of the Billy Hargrove.  

Or so she had thought.  

In a twist of fate, only a year after they had purged the proclaimed Mindflayer as the children has called it, the fleshy beast reared its ugly head yet again, accompanied by the appearance of infiltrating Russian agents just below the shopping mall… and the boy who had faced the devil itself, freed from its clutches, very nearly died saving his younger stepsister and her friends. 

All in all, Rosie had begun to count the diverging events of this dimension that differed from those of home.

Comparatively… despite demon attacks being a commonality, they didn't quite compare enough to make news in the 80s as much as these events did in Hawkins, Illinois. 

Or maybe they did… 

Her memory each day was growing foggier and foggier without her medication to regulate the stress and the havok it evoked out of her mind. 

How long had they been away from home now, she and Mia..? 

How many years had passed in their home dimensions,

compared to this? 

How had her sons developed

without their mother's protection? 

How had her angels fared without their fearless leader

to guide the missions?

 Did it all fall apart without her, 

as she always feared it would? 

Those thoughts that circle.. and circle..

Oh no, no no. 

Think of the boy. The subject at interest: Billy Hargrove 

The agent briefing her on the aftermath had snapped his fingers in her face, drawing the Sphinx back into the moment with a few blinks. Her hollow gaze shifted upwards, then back down to the files at hand. His names embossed in the manilla folder tab in that cheesy military font they used on the movies. It doesn't take long for familiarity to set in as she thumbs through the panels, skims background and event timelines, then come down to a singular conclusion –

" So you want me to find this traumatized boy who barely escaped with his life, and you want me to gather as much info as I can about what the connection was like?" 

Rosie speaks plainly, flatly and unamused as she stared through the agent with her sunken sleep deprived eyes. 

The agent, growing steadily uncertain with the decision to keep Rosie as an ally, cleared his throat and nodded towards the folder in hand,

" That there could be a step closer to discovering what's blocking your way, and how to get you and your daughter back home. The quicker you gather information, the quicker we can help you in return." 

That was the safe answer… the one that doesn't get your head bitten off or furniture smashed against walls as her frustration and exhaustion grows with being stuck in a timeline because of her impulsive daughter. Dangle the prospect of home in front of her face and the lioness simply exhales loudly from the nostrils and balls her fist into the folder with a tight nod.

Enough to placate her now... until her dissatisfaction grows again. Rosie was getting damn near burned out over this goddamn mystery no one could solve in sourcing the puppet Master of these monsters. She only wanted to go home..

 if she had to rip through this boy for this information, so be it. 

It came through as an odd request, to temporarily trade in her work cruiser for some older broken down muscle car. 

But there was a method to her madness, she told them,

all she needed was a little trust. 

It's early that morning after dropping Mia off to school that Rosita Roselyn dolled herself up for the role she had in mind ; A widow whose husband left her his beloved car that was in desperate need of repairs. It seemed to be the most reasonable opening, to pull from her playroom of disguises as she did in a time long past. The vehicle had a horrible shake and audible metal rattling to it as she drove it down the quiet hawkin streets, preparing her mind for the task at hand, to remind herself to feel nothing for what she was about to do as she pulled up up to the open garage slot and clambered out with purposeful clumsiness. 

" Hello, anybody home?"

Rosie calls out in the workspace, clutching her keys to her chest and timidly clicking her short heels as she steps into the working area and scans anxiously for a familiar face to match her target. She's mastered the clueless look, just as easily as she can shift it to hope when she follows the sound of cranking tools from a car in another bay.  It has to be him , she thinks, because only the young bucks would be posted to open shop this early. 

The woman swivels on her heels and clacks around the body of the vehicle in hopes of finding the desired greasy Mechanic underneath – the answer to all her problems. When she spots the well worn, oil stained jeans peaking out from beneath the body, the cat smiled and tapped her talons against the metal to draw his attention out. 

She plays her expression apologetically,

" Excuse me,  do they have you working here all by yourself, Handsome? "

[hereliesbitches--me]

“He clings to his hate so stubbornly, because once the hate is gone he’ll have no other choice but to deal with his pain.”

— (via pxrcelaintosteels)

[hereliesbitches--me]

I'm getting my Jacob icons done and then it's over from you bitches

Like this post if you'd like to have a wild feral Jacob in your inbox

Doesn't matter if you've never interacted, he gonna make his introduction