#Not only getting beat up by the beast physically and mentally but also getting your crush | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

skyfallslayer · 5 months ago

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Should We Stay or Should We Go? || Chapter Six

-A ST Rewrite Feat. Steve Harrington x Henderson!OFC-

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

🎲Summary: A frantic Jonathan, Hopper and Joyce look for Nancy in the darkness before uncovering the truth about the lab’s experiments. Steve starts accepting his babysitting role. Steph and Will are running out of time.

🎲Pairings: Will x Platonic!OFC; Dustin x Sister!OC; Slow burn! Steve x Henderson!OFC (Ex-bestfriends to Lovers); Slow burn! Byler

🎲Rating: Teen-Mature

🎲Word Count: 15,845

🎲Date: 12/13/24

🎲Warnings: Angst; Heavy Language & Dialogue; References To Broken Friendship; Mental Strain/Breaking Down; Talks of Mental Health Issues; Bullying of All Kinds; Physical Fighting; Lying; "Death" and Talks of Death; Brief Mention of Corpses; Gun Use; Implied Unloving Parents; Implied Child Abuse; Implied Drug Abuse; Blood & Gore; Arson & Alcohol; Will & Steph's Mental Strain - Joyce's Too; Hopper Being a Great Cop & A Total Mess; Dustin Being a Slight Asshole; Steve's 'Asshole Era'; Steve's Emotional Damage. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

(And let me know if I missed anything)

🎲A/N: I am sooooo sorry this took so long! It was never my intention to have neglected it for this long, but here it is. Hopefully it lives up to your expectations. Also, small heads up, I've only re-read this over a few times, so hopefully everything makes sense and looks good. Thank you for your patience ❤️. Enjoy!

You know what they say… Curiosity kills the cat. Or in this instance…

Curiosity kills the Wheeler.

Now she was staring at something truly horrifying, something that was like out of a Stephan King novel or out of an exorcist movie. This… thing was huge. When she first caught a glance of it at Steve’s house she never pictured it that big. An eight foot, lanky, twisted limb individual that was feasting on a poor deer. Her breath was caught in her throat, its munching sounds found its way into her ears rocking her to her core; Her dying flashlight was shaking in her hand.

She needs to leave, go back through the tree before this thing decides it wants desert. Yet, luck was not on her side, as soon as she took a step backwards something crackled beneath her feet. On cue the monster turns around with a shriek, causing her to drop everything and run.

“Jonathan!” She screams, hoping that he – someone – would hear. Then her heart skipped a beat when she got a reply. “JONATHAN!!”

“Nancy!”

She twisted around the trees, the beast right on her tail–

“I’m right here! Nancy! Just follow my voice!”

Follow his voice. Follow his voice. Follow his voice. Follow his– The thing decided to lunge, which she manages to get out of the way in the nick of time, running in a new direction.

“Follow my voice, Nancy, I’m right here! Nancy?!”

She pulls herself to a halt, clinging onto a tree and taking a breather. She hears him but she just can’t see him! Everything was starting to blur and look the same to the point she doesn’t even know where the damn entrance is!

“Jonathan…?” She whispers, and chokes down a sob as she hears the beast growling and lurking around somewhere behind. Is this it? Is this how her life was going to end? In a place that people probably won’t even believe exists? She shook to her core, the beast footsteps starting to fade, but what good would that be if she didn’t know where she was going?

But something must have answered her prayers as a hand suddenly covers her mouth, startling her as someone quietly and quickly shushes beside her ear. Her stomach dropped to her ankles, as she fearfully followed the hand to… she couldn’t even finish the thought she was so taken back. She was completely baffled to find it belonged to the Police Chief of Hawkins.

The Police Chief? She thought, her mind of course strolling to the dread and the worst of it all. Did her parents call because she was gone? Did Hopper get abducted like poor Will and Stephanie? What could it–

Once he registers that he has her attention (mostly), he silently tells her to follow him. Obliging, she stays close, following him right back to where she came through.

Relief fell through her, then once again horror when that growling came back at full force. The two parties stop, frozen as the beast returns a few paces behind them; Then…

It charged. The next few seconds were a blur for Nancy–

Barely remembering how he grabbed her and held her close–

Barely registering him taking out his firearm and taking shots–

Barely recalling as he yanked them both backwards into a tree–

Both Jonathan and Joyce let out a scream when someone’s hand shot through the bubble.

“HELP!!!” It shouts, their eyes widened.

“Hang on!!” Joyce yells, as her and her son use a death grip on his hand, planting their feet into the Earth and pulling with all their might. All it took was their faces to turn bloodshot red before finally seeing the upper half of Hopper’s body. “Ugh– COME ON!!”

And one more large yank from the both of them sent them flying across the forest floor, and Hopper crashed flat on his back with Nancy in his hold.

Hopper immediately squeezed the sobbing girl comfortably, reassuring her softly. “It’s okay. I got you. I got you…”

“Nancy!” Jonathan sighs with relief, him and Joyce crawling over to see them. He helped them sit up, the two of them covered in a weird goo, both looking like they had just seen hell and survived.

As the four of them tried to process the last few minutes, they gazed upon the tree that was slowly closing itself back up.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Eleven!” Her name erupted his throat for the thousandth time tonight. Steve’s not quite sure what time it was, but it was definitely dark and freezing cold, yet he refuses to give up. “Eleven!”

Once he was completely sure his mother was dead asleep it was easy enough to slip out again. Dressed as warmly as he could, flashlight in hand, baseball bat in the other with a backpack full of supplies for anything that he might need along the way. He even brought an extra jacket to sling around the kid when he found her. He was left circling around the junkyard and the area around it; And of course it had to be all wooded, the perfect place to hide.

“Eleven!” He shouts again, then sighs, his breath could be seen in the air. “Look, kid, I… I don’t know if you can hear this, but if you can, I’m not mad about what happened. Frankly, I’m more worried about you. And that’s the god’s honest truth, I swear, I just…” Another sigh. “It’s cold, and I don’t want you freezing. I just… I-I just want you to be alright, kiddo. Okay?”

Of course he was expecting an answer, but he had a feeling he wasn’t going to get a reply which was correct. Instead, he was met with a heavy wind blow that sent a chill through his body.

Shit… He frowns. “Listen, if I don’t see you in the next few hours or you don’t want to approach me, just… please consider going back to Mike’s place, or… you can even come to mine.”

Then he mentally slapped himself. Of course she wouldn’t know his place! “Um, if– if you remember where Will’s house is, I’m not too far from there. The woods across the street just take that straight through. The walk’s about… forty minutes, and uh, my house has a big pool in the backyard and… I’ll be waiting for you. Um…”

It kind of hurts that he’s not getting an answer.

“I’ll probably have to repeat what I just said in a few hours but–” His face morphs into something warm and greeting. “I really hope you heard what I said. And please consider.”

Nothing again, and Steve prays that she hears him, I mean, that’s all he can do as he starts his walk back up again; Shouting her name over and over until the sun starts to rise.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

She felt him pull the blanket around them closer before snuggling against her side – not just for warmth this time, but for comfort, something they both desperately needed now. Steph and Will found themselves sitting inside Castle Byers, both trying to stay snug, both trying to process what had happened in the last few hours, those…

Those hours that they couldn’t even believe just happen.

“So…” Steph begins, fiddling with the walkman in her hands, the one that apparently saved her from the nightmare she was in. “You just played music?”

“Uh, huh.” Will said, nodding.

“And…” Her hands shook at the slightest. Just thinking about it made her skin crawl. “How did you know how to do that?”

“I didn’t.” He frowns, visibly upset. “Like I said earlier, when I accidently turned on the boombox, the music was scaring the monster away. So I thought, maybe, whatever had a hold on you would have the same effect.”

“Well it worked.” She lays the device in her lap, sighing into her hands, thinking. “Listen, Will, I’m going to be blunt.” She meets his worried gaze. “I don’t think we’re going to make it.”

Steph hated how easily those words slipped out, how easily it was to admit that they were stuck in a rut. Her fingers clawed at her thighs as she continued, “I mean, I have faith in your mom, I really do, but we’re running out of time here. And who knows if she’s even figured out a way to get to us, if she knows where we are. We’re both…” She swallows. “We’re both physically and mentally tired, we’re starving and cold too. I mean, if that thing doesn’t kill us, then the cold certainly will. Look at us, we’re shaking and we have layers upon layers of clothes that slowly are not doing much for us. We’re slowly dying at this point.”

Will says nothing knowing she’s right. He’s lost count how many pairs of socks were on his feet, or sweaters he has under his jacket. “Then… what do we do?”

She sighs again, rubbing her forehead (and putting her brain into overdrive). “Alright let’s stop and really think. We obviously weren’t the only ones brought here, right? Remember the girl from Steve’s pool?”

“Yeah.” He straightens up a bit, catching on what she was trying to explain. “From the looks of it, that thing caught her off guard.”

“See, that’s what I was thinking. What if that thing–” She shakes her head. “You know what, we got to give it a name. Can’t keep calling it ‘thing’ or ‘beast’, it’s confusing. Um…”

Will suddenly recalls what started all this indirectly. “...I got beaten by the Demogorgon.”

“Huh?”

“I rolled a seven, and I needed to roll a ten, so I ended up getting beaten by the Demogorgon.” He locks eyes with her again. “We got beaten by the Demogorgon.”

She clenches her jaw. “The Demogorgon. That’s what is hunting us.” Steph says, while nodding. “Okay. Okay. Alright, so what I was thinking is that Demogorgon is like a wolf. It kills its prey, and drags it back to the den, its home, this place, to feast.”

“So… it’s hungry, and this whole place is its home?”

“Correct. The thing is, who knows if we are even the Demogorgon’s first victims? There could have been plenty of people before us that got dragged here. There’s probably been more people than the girl at the pool we saw.”

“So if it’s dragging people here, then it’s somehow able to travel between here and Hawkins. Like it’s using a gateway.”

“Correct. But I don’t think it’s using one gateway, I think there’s somehow more than one.”

He tilts his head, curious. “How so?”

“Remember what you said? The girl looked like she was caught off guard. But–” How does she phrase this? “But she was scared like we were scared when we first saw that thing. Now, I mean we’re still scared anytime we come across the Demogorgon, but not like the first meeting, right?”

“Yeah.” Will said, after taking a second to process it. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“See? Every time we encounter it, it comes out of nowhere.”

“Like it portal-hops, almost.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“So out there…” He starts looking more hopeful. “There’s at least a few gateways. So all we have to do is find one, and maybe it’ll take us home.”

Steph nods before frowning. “There’s only one problem about that. Every time we try doing something to help us get out of here, the Demogorgon shows up. I mean, this evil version of Hawkins is still Hawkins. It’s huge. We’ll never be able to search around without having to worry about it showing up.”

“We have to do something then.”

“Yeah. I mean–” She shrugs. “What can we do? Music and guns seemed to only stun it.”

“Unless, we figure out a way to not stun it. What if…” Will couldn’t believe what was coming out of his mouth next–

“What if we kill it?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Hopper let himself close his eyes as he rested at the table, sitting in nothing but his boxer briefs and undershirt. His (dry clean only) uniform had been shoved into the wash in an attempt to get the sticky goo off as he’s second in line for the shower. He was still trying to process what he just went through in the last hour. Another world, real monsters, the lab, the Staties, the fake bodies, everything. It was way too much for the forty-two year old man to wrap his head around. Way too much for any sane human being.

My god… what have I gotten myself into? He was pulled from his thoughts when someone rattled the table as they sat down.

“Look, we gotta go through this again.” Joyce pushed eagerly, hands flat against the news articles Hopper brought over.

The Police Chief looks at her tiredly. “I told you everything that I saw.” He replies, then takes a puff of smoke from his cigarette.

“Oh, my gosh.” She rolls her eyes. “Tell me again.”

Just before Hopper could continue, her son came into the room, looking mentally and physically exhausted. “Is she alright?” He asked, getting a nod.

“Yeah.” Jonathan said, nervously fiddling with his hands as he took a seat with them. “She’s showering right now.”

“That’s good.” Joyce said, before turning her attention back on the other adult. “Continue.”

“Upstairs or downstairs?” He asks, softly.

“Upstairs.”

“There was a laboratory. It was where they must do experiments or something, and then there was… there was this kid’s room–”

“How do you know it was a kid’s room?”

“It’s.. M-More like a prison.”

“So why would you think it was a kid’s room, then?”

Hopper inhales sharply. “Because, I told you, the size of the bed, there was a drawing, there was a stuffed animal–”

Joyce perks up. “You didn’t say there was a drawing.”

“Yeah, there was a drawing of a... an adult and a child. It said ‘Eleven’ on it.”

“Was it good?” Both Joyce and Jonathan said in unison, both having the same idea.

Hopper looks between the two, confused. “It was a kid’s drawing. It was stick figures.”

Joyce then sighs herself, getting up quickly to fetch something before slamming it down in front of him. “Wasn’t Will.” She clarifies, as he takes in the skillful drawing, confusion going away instantly.

Although that went away, something else took its place.

His eyes widened. “Earl…” Hopper mutters, setting the drawing aside to grab the news articles, shifting them around to find something he just thought of. “The night that Benny died, Earl said he saw some kid with a shaved head with Benny. Now, I pressed him, he said it might be Will, but maybe…”

“Maybe, it wasn’t?” Jonathan asked, him and his mother leaning in closer to what the cop was digging around for.

“Look…” He flashes the piece of paper at them, a woman plastered on the front of it all. “This woman, Terry Ives, she claims to have lost her daughter, Jane. She sued Brenner, she sued the government… Now, the claims came to nothing, but what if…” A look of horror crosses his face. “I mean, what if this whole time I’ve been… I’ve been looking for Will… I’ve been chasing after some other kid? What if this goes so much deeper than we thought?”

“So you’re saying that, maybe this Brenner guy is taking kids for some… experiment?” Joyce asked, trying to get some clarity.

“Maybe yes, maybe no.” He replies, his fingers subtly twitching against the table. “But I know in my gut that the lab has something to do with your son’s disappearance. It has to. There’s too many paths crossing for them not to be.”

“Okay, but if that is the case, why Will? And where does Stephanie fit into this?” Jonathan asked.

“Here’s the thing about Stephanie, with all the evidence we have, I think she simply was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. I think Will was always the main target, she just happened to be there when they decided to move in.” Hopper sighs. “Where is she now? I don’t know. But they must have crossed paths with her once if they managed to make a fake corpse that looks like her.”

The teenager took a moment to think everything over, before shaking his head. “This is getting… insane. Really insane.”

“Tell me about it, kid. I know.”

“Then what’s the next step? Where do we go from here?” Joyce asks, but before she got an answer, Nancy had entered the room. Semi-damp towel wrapped around her neck, and dressed in clothes she was given, she comes in with a distant look that she tries to play off.

“Thank you for the clothes, and shower, Ms. Byers.”

“Oh, no need to thank me. Um…” Joyce takes a step towards her with a warm smile. “Listen, it’s late. How about you stay the night?”

“Are you sure?” Nancy asked, surprised.

“Yes, I’m sure. Just… call your mother. I wouldn’t want her to worry. Uh, Jonathan–” She gets her son’s attention. “Why don’t you show her where the phone is and get the extra blankets and pillows out?” She awaits for them to disappear from sight before turning back to Hopper and asking, “So what’s the next step?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

It wasn’t until she had to get Joyce on the phone to confirm she really was at the Byers Household that Nancy was allowed to stay. They came up with some excuse that Nancy was helping Jonathan with some homework and it went later than expected. Luckily, Karen bought it, and now her daughter was wondering how she was even going to get any sleep. Every time she closes her eyes… she sees that thing. That monster stalked her like prey, and was this close to snagging her and the Police Chief and ending their lives.

This. Freaking. Close.

I mean… how would Jonathan and his mother explain to her family what happened? To explain how she was eaten/killed by a beast with no eyes? Speaking of…

“You feel better?” Jonathan asks, as he looks up from fixing up his bed when enters the room.

“Yeah.” She said, nodding.

“That’s good. Um…” He shifts nervously on the balls of his feet, gesturing to the object at hand. “I-Is my bed okay? Do you need another blanket? Or–”

Nancy shakes her head. “I-I can’t take your bed.”

“Trust me, my mom will kill me if I offer you the couch.” He chuckles. “Just take it. I’ll sleep in Will’s room.”

“You sure?” She asks, and he nods. “Okay.”

“Okay.” He repeats, and starts making his way to leave, but–

“It’s just, um…” Her hands squeeze together tightly. “I… I don’t wanna be alone, so….” She adverts her eyes. “Can you, like, stay with me tonight?”

“S-Stay?” He slurs, surprised.

She shakes her head slowly as she sits down on the bed. “Yeah…”

“Uh, y-yeah. I-I’ll stay. Um–” He looks around the room. “Just let me get–”

“Can you just come sit? Uh, you can… take half the bed if you want or…” She groans quietly into her hands, before shuttering visibly. “Jesus…”

Jonathan immediately sits down as well, taking in how scared she is and tries to find the right words. “You know, it… it can’t get us in here.”

“We don’t know that.” Nancy whispers, looking at him “Every time I close my eyes, I just… keep seeing that... thing. Wherever I was, that place… I think that it lives there. It was feeding there. Feeding on that deer.”

“Hey, I won’t let it get you.”

“But it got everyone else? That means that if… if Will, Stephanie and Barbara…”

“Hey.” He wraps an arm around her shoulder, giving her a side hug. “My mom said she talked to Will. Talked to Stephanie. If they’re alive, there’s a chance Barbara is, too. That means that she’s… trapped in that place. We just have to find it again.”

She gives him a puzzled look. “You wanna go back out there?”

“I don’t know.” He frowns. “I’ll see what my Mom and the Police Chief say tomorrow, then I’ll make a decision.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Dustin springs up and off the couch when he hears the front door open and shut. Walking the direction of where it was, he was nearly bulldozed over by his big sister, whose arms were crossed and had a sour look upon her face.

“Where have you been?” He asked, following her closely behind. “You didn’t walk me home from school, and you’ve been gone for six hours now. Mom’s worried sick and is looking for you.”

“Well I’m fine. I just wanted to clear my head.” She mutters, heading for her room.

“You could have cleared your head when you came home. You could have just told mom you wanted some time alone. You didn’t have to freaking disappear on us.” What will their mom say? She’s been freaking out and fearing the worst and his sister’s acting like it’s nothing! What’s her deal? “Phanie? Phanie you listening? Phanie–”

“Jesus, Dustin–” She turns around to face him, stopping in the middle of her doorway. Her sour expression had faded into a certain sadness he couldn’t pinpoint. “Just– I’ll explain to mom what happened, I just… I just want to be left alone.”

His shoulders slack at her tone. “Okay. That’s fine. It’s just, we were just worried, you know? You normally don’t disappear like that. We… should I call Steve to let you know you’re fine? I’m sure he’s worried–”

“I don’t want to talk about Steve. I don’t want you to, or mom, I don’t even want to see him again.”

“Phanie…?”

“I don’t–” She laughs quietly on the verge of tears. “I shouldn’t even be crying. It’s not like he cares, or that he wants to be my friend anymore, or… h-he acts like he doesn’t so… fuck–”

“Stephanie–”

“Just leave me alone!”

Then she slams the door in his face without a warning or word.

That was over two years ago, and he still doesn’t know the full story (and even doubts that he ever will). His sister told their mother they had a bit of a disagreement that led to their falling out, ending all discussions and/or thoughts about the boy; Everything she had that held any memory of him was long stored away. Or so he thought.

Dustin still couldn’t wrap his head around why she was still wearing this damn necklace he gave her. Out of everything that they gave one another, he would think that this gift was the most sentimental of them all, so why keep it?

He examines in his palm almost wanting to chuck in the trash, but another part of him wants to wait until he gets his sister back to ask her, ‘Why? Just why?’.

Phanie. I just don’t get it. Is there something I’m missing? But his thoughts were abruptly stopped when his walkie fired up with feedback. He sets it aside and grabs the walkie, pulling up the antenna to listen.

[ ‘Dustin, you copy?’ ]

“Yeah, Mike. I copy. What’s up?”

[ ‘Meet me at my place. We got to go over a few things.’ ]

“Copy that. Over and out.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

Will couldn’t believe where all the confidence suddenly came from, especially given their situation. But for some reason, it all felt so right to say.

Stephanie stares at the boy with her big blue eyes, a little bit shocked by what he said. “You want to kill it?” She asked, to confirm.

“Yeah.” He says, adrenaline pumping his veins. “What if we kill the Demogorgon? If we kill it, it might be our only shot at finding a gate unscathed.”

She blinks. “That’s… that’s not the most terrible idea I’ve heard. But how does one kill a thing like that?”

Will hums, brows pushed together in concentration. “Music?”

“Music could work.” She nods. “However, from what you told me, one boombox seemed to just scare it off. There’s no electricity, it’s not like we can broadcast a song over the radio, we’re going to need a lot more boxes. Plus, who knows if we have to play the same song on all of them. There’s no way everyone in town has the same cassettes.”

“True.” He bites his lip. “Guns? We can go get more.”

“Guns could do the job. But when you faced it back at the house? Did it look injured at all? I shot after we talked with your mom.”

“Hmm.” He stops to rack his brain again. Did it? “I think it was injured, but it surely didn’t stop it from coming after me.”

“Okay. So if we use guns, I mean we’re going to have to rapidly fire after rapid fire.”

“That’s going to be too hard.”

“Yeah.”

“So what do we do?”

Stephanie stops to think for herself, pulling the blanket close when she gets a chill. And that’s when the lightbulb went off. “Cold.” She gasps quietly. “This place is cold. It must like the cold. If it likes the cold, then–”

“It hates the heat.” Will perks up excitedly. “Heat is the weakness, then–”

“We can kill the Demogorgon with it.” She couldn’t help but smile at the revelation. “Alright, quickly. What is stuff that’s flammable?”

“Flammable? Um, matches, gasoline, lighter fluid–”

“Alcohol.” She replies. “If we can get all those things, find a good place to set up a trap, overload the shit out of it with everything it hates, and we kill it then…”

“We might be able to go home.”

Their gazes lock again, and suddenly they felt like they were finally on the same level, save wavelength with their thinking. They finally found something that could bribe them into not losing their will to live.

“Then let’s go shopping.” Steph said, grinning. Her words kickstarted them to pack everything up and crawl out of the hideout. Before they took off, she stares down at the walkman again, thinking. “You know, just thought of something.”

“What?” Will asks, looking up at her.

“Remember when we said that maybe we could hear people if they were only thinking negatively?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, they say when playing your favorite music, your brain releases dopamine, giving you a sense of euphoria. What if playing the music keeps all the bad things away?”

“That makes sense. You did say when you were trapped in that place, it got all brighter when the song was playing.”

“Yeah. It did.” She looks down at it again, fascinated by how such a basic thing saved her life.

“Maybe you should wear it while we walk there.”

“You think?”

“Yeah. Better safe than sorry, you know?”

“Yeah, I guess.” She sighs. “Okay, I will. But listen–” She makes sure she has his full attention. “If you start feeling weird, or you get a headache, or your nose starts to bleed, or anything unusual, you need to tell me and I’ll hand it over. Capish?” He nods. “Good. Got ‘The Clash’ cassette?”

“Yep.” He nods, patting his pocket.

“Alright. Let’s go.” She slides on the headsets and starts the song before taking his hand.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Joyce was nervously fiddling with the cigarette in her mouth as she waited for Hopper to get off the phone with some kind of news. She hopes it’s good news, she hopes that he’s able to use his connections to get some kind of push in the right direction.

Come on, Hop. Don’t let me down. She soon watches him hang the phone on the receiver, and turns her way. “Did you get it?”

“I got it.” Hopper replies, waving the piece of paper around.

“Got what?” Jonathan interrupted as he entered the kitchen. “Mom?”

“Um–” She briefly looks over at the Police Chief. “We found out where that Terry Ives woman lives. We’re going to pay her a visit.”

“Oh.” He looks between them for a second. “Just the two of you?”

“Listen–” She places her hands on his shoulder. “It would be best if just me and Hopper went alone.”

“Mom–”

“She’s right, son.” Hopper cuts in. “Something big is going on, and it would be best and safe if you and Nancy stay behind.”

“But, Chief–”

“If the lab is really behind this, then it’s better that they don’t know the two of you are involved in solving this, alright?”

As much as he hated to admit it, Jonathan knew he had a point. “Alright.”

“Just… make sure Nancy gets home safe, and stays out of trouble.” Hopper glances over at Joyce. “I’ll get the car started up.”

“Okay.” She says, watching him leave. “Listen–” She pats her son’s chest to make sure he’s paying attention. “If you want to, you can stalk up on ammo for our guns, that’s fine with me. However that’s not an invitation to be going after that thing we saw. Guns are emergencies only. Alright?”

He cracks a small smile. “Alright.”

“Good. And only if Nancy feels up to it. But I have a feeling that she’s not leaving until she gets some answers too.”

“Okay, mom. I got it. We’ll be good.”

“Good.” She says, just before Hopper honked his horn and shouted something incoherently. “Okay. I got to go. Love you, and be safe.”

“I will.” He squeezes her hand real quick. “You too. Be safe.” He anxiously watches her leave, and that’s with him knowing how skilled Hopper is. He knows she’s in safe hands, but still. They still haven’t puzzled all the pieces together yet. Who knows what is still missing and awaits.

“Where did they run off to?” Nancy asked upon entering. She was dressed in her old clothes from yesterday, freshly cleaned, and her brown locks tied back in a ponytail.

“Actually that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Jonathan says, all business now. “They figured out something last night. Something about the lab and having a connection in all this.”

“The Hawkins Lab?” She gives him a strange look. “What does a research lab have to do with all this?”

He sighs. “I think it’s time to get you up to speed.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Strange.

The forty year old science teacher at Hawkins Middle school surely wasn’t expecting any kind of guest today. Nor someone so special like the woman before him. Dressed very nicely, hair done perfectly, and with a bright smile she shared with him why she’s here with much excitement.

“-and we’re making a newsletter, which we’ll send out monthly.” She continues as she hands him over a pamphlet that says: ‘The Indiana AV Club’. “It’ll showcase all the latest equipment, as well as how-to articles, which the kids write themselves.”

His face lights up as he reads. “Oh, that’s neat.”

“What we’re really trying to do here, Mr. Clarke–”

“Uh, please, call me Scott.”

“Scott.” She tests, her smile growing bigger. “What we’re trying to do here, Scott, is to connect kids from all over the state and give them the support and encouragement to pursue careers in technology. We feel these are the kinds of kids that are going to make Indiana proud.”

“I agree, yes.” He nods. “Completely.”

Hook.

“So, you know any kids you think might wanna participate?”

Line.

“Oh, I have a few in mind.”

Sinker.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Dustin is this close to shoving his friend’s head into a wall. He swears, out of all his friends, both Mike and Lucas are constantly fighting for the title of ‘Most Hot Headed/Overexaggerator’. Will was too quiet to ever play peace-keeper, so naturally this role fell on him. But man… after knowing them both for so long, it was really hard to keep the ‘peace’ part of the role up.

“I just... I can’t believe she didn’t come back.” Mike repeated and paced around the basement once more.

“She’s gotta be close.” Dustin tries again to reassure.

“She said it wasn’t safe. She just messed up the compasses because she wanted to protect us. She didn’t betray us–”

Dustin bites his lip. “Mike, calm down.”

“I shouldn’t have yelled at her. I never should’ve done that.”

“Mike, this isn’t your fault.”

“Yeah, it’s Lucas’.”

“It wasn’t his fault, either.”

That got the Wheeler to stop moving around and give a stern glare. “It wasn’t his fault?”

“No.” Dustin said, standing his ground.

“So you’re saying he wasn’t way out of line?”

“Totally, but so were you!”

“What?” Mike scoffs.

“And so was Eleven.”

“Oh, give me a break!”

“No, Mike, you give me a break!” The Henderson jabbed his finger at him. “All three of you were being a bunch of little assholes. I was the only reasonable one. Shit, hate to admit it, but even fucking Steve Harrington was being reasonable. The bottom line is... you pushed first. And you know the rule. You draw first blood…”

Mike shakes his head and throws his hands in the air. “No! No way! I’m not shaking his hand.”

“You’re shaking his hand!”

“No, I’m not.”

“This isn’t a discussion. This is the rule of law. Obey or be banished from the party. Do you wanna be banished?”

Mike crosses his arms and looks away. “No.” He whispers.

“Good.”

“Kids, that boy Steve’s here.” Karen yells from above, the boys perking up with a bit of hope. They waited (im)patiently for him to come down as he strolled in with a new layer of Fall clothes and a tired face.

“Well?” Mike asked, nervously.

“I’m sorry.” Steve said, making them frown. “I walked around those woods for six hours, and then I even waited to see if she would show up at my place. Nothing.”

“Shit…” Dustin mutters.

“Well, thanks for looking.” Mike said, genuinely.

Steve nods in reply, shifting his weight around on his throbbing feet before asking, “How’s Sinclair?”

“We were just about to go check.” Dustin answers first, moving around them both to grab his backpack.

“We are?” Mike asked, confused.

“Yes, Mike. We’re doing this now. We’re going to get Lucas. And then we’re gonna find Eleven. Alright?” He sighs, before looking at the oldest teen. “Steve, thank you for looking, we’ll take it from here.”

Steve straightens out his posture immediately as the kid starts trying to leave without. “Hey, hey, hey–” He maneuvers in front of him, blocking him from the stairs. “This wasn’t a one time thing. I’m staying with you guys.”

“Dustin, come on, man, we talked about this.” Mike said, turning their roles around. His friend’s shoulder sagged and he muttered something under his breath.

Steve takes a quiet inhale before addressing him. “Look, Henderson, I know you hate me, you have every right to hate me, but right now you need all the help you can get.” His jaw tightens. “Not to mention, whoever’s responsible for all this doesn’t mind getting their hands dirty. They’re not going to care that you guys are twelve year old boys. You need me, whether you like it or not.”

Dustin lets out a long, angry exhale as Mike locks his gaze with the older boy.

“Now, let’s go get Lucas, let’s find Eleven, find the gate, and pray that it leads to your sister and Will.” Steve finishes, and the curly haired kid exhales again.

“Fine.” He huffs.

“Good. We’ll take my car. Will go to Lucas’ and then I’ll take us to the woods. Capish?”

“Capish.” They say, as they follow him out of the basement.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

Will looked around the store wondering where they even began. His big doe eyes then turned to the teenager who pushed a shopping cart over to him. “What do we grab?”

“Whatever we can.” Steph says, grabbing a cart of her own with a smirk. “And obviously you don’t have to worry about the price.”

That got him to laugh as they migrated around the store, filling up with stuff they talked about. The teenager found herself starting with certain alcohol that she knew could be considered “flammable”. Some of the numbers were… extremely high and made her question people’s choices (And she thought the whiskey Steve and her drank at the Snow Ball was strong).

Thank god I never drank imported Vodka. She keeps filling her cart up, just as Will comes around the corner with something.

“Hey, hairspray’s flammable, right?” He asks, holding up a can.

“Uh, yeah. It is.”

He hums, taking the cap off and harmlessly spraying the air. “Huh. That’s probably not going to do much though.”

“Probably not.” She says, making him nod and was about to leave when an idea struck her. “Wait.” He stops. “I’m actually getting an idea. Whatever hairspray you can fit in that cart, do it.”

“You know how to build the trap?” He asked, hopeful.

“If I’m picturing this all out correctly, I know this is going to work. But we’re going to need a shit ton of stuff if it’s going to cover the whole place.”

“And where’s that place?”

“Remember that old building with the broken clock tower I took you to?” He nods. “I know that place like the back of my hand. If I’m picturing the trap right I think I know exactly how to set everything up.”

“And we’re going to need a lot?”

“A hell lot.” She hopes her imagination won’t let her down on this one. She starts pushing her cart towards him and heads off for a new one while saying, “Keep grabbing everything flammable, I’m going to get some tools.”

“What kind of tools?” He asked, curiously.

“Basic tools. Hammer, screwdrivers, saw–”

“Saw?”

“Yeah. Saw.”

“What’s the saw for?”

“‘Cause–” She turns around with a smirk. “It’s completely illegal, but a sawing off the front of a shotgun makes the impact more intense, right?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Steve stayed a few steps behind the boys as they knocked on the door and awaited their fate; Which seemed dreary when Lucas saw who it was.

“What do you want?” He snapped, and it wasn’t until Dustin slapped Mike in the arm he finally got his answer.

“I drew first blood, so…” He holds out his hand, Lucas’ eyes scanning him head to toe for any signs of a lie.

The Sinclair sighs, thinking it over. “Okay, I’ll shake. On one condition.” He crosses his arms and stands tall. “We forget the weirdo and go straight to the gate.”

“Then the deal’s off!” Mike scoffs, and turns around to leave.

“Fine!”

“No, no, not fine!” Dustin said, stopping Lucas from closing the door.

“Guys, seriously?” Steve said, blocking Mike from taking another step. “Stop acting like you’re six, and talk it out like your age.”

“Come on!” Dustin claps his hands together, tackling this head on. “Do you even remember what happened on the Bloodstone Pass?” He watches his friends stare in confusion and sighs. “We couldn’t agree on what path to take, so we split up the party and those trolls took us out one by one. And it all went to shit. And we were all disabled! So we stick together, no matter what!”

His little speech managed to knock some sense into them, and all seemed hopeful till…

“Yeah, I agree.” Lucas said, and gestured to everyone. “But this is the party, right here. The three of us.”

“El is one of us now.” Mike said, as he got an eye roll for a reply.

“Um, no, she’s not. Not even close! Never will be. She’s a liar, a traitor–”

“She was just trying to keep us safe! She didn’t mean to hurt you. It was an accident!”

He scoffs. “An accident?”

“All right, accident or not… admit it, it was a little awesome.” Dustin said, unintentionally digging a bigger hole in the ground for them.

Lucas blinks (with Steve face palming in the background). “Awesome?”

“Yeah, she threw you in the air with her mind!”

“I could have been killed!”

“Which is exactly why we need her. She’s a weapon!” Mike explains. “Do you seriously wanna fight the Demogorgon with your wrist rocket? That’s like R2-D2 going to fight Darth Vader. We’re no use to Will and Steph if we’re dead.”

Lucas shakes his head, clearly frustrated, clearly fed up. “If you two and Steve wanna waste your time looking for a traitor, go ahead, ’cause I’m not spending my time on her anymore. No way! I’m going to the gate. I’m gonna find them.”

And the door slams shut.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

It took a bit to get up to Bloomington but they made it; That’s all that matters. Hopper parked his car on the gravel driveway, him and Joyce getting out and cautiously moving towards the front door of the residence. It took several knocks until a petite blonde woman answered. She seemed on her toes just like they were.

“Can I help you?”

“Hi, we’re looking for Terry Ives. Does she live here?” Hopper asks.

Her brown eyes darted between them. “Who’s asking?”

“The Hawkins chief of police.” He flashes her his badge long enough to give her a good look.

“And… you want to talk to my sister?”

“Well, if your sister’s Terry Ives, then, yeah, we do.”

She frowns, looking a bit apologetic. “Okay, well, you can come in, but if you want Terry to tell you anything, you’re about five years too late.” She lets him and guides them to the living room. “Terry, you have some visitors.”

Joyce presence herself in front of the woman in the rocking chair, the similarities in their features were enough to tell the Byers that these two were definitely sisters.

“Hello. My name’s Joyce Byers. Uh, this is Hopper.” She begins, the woman turning her distant gaze off the TV towards them. “We drove over from Hawkins. Um, you see, uh, my son… he’s been missing for almost a week now, and, um, we were wondering if we could talk to you about your daughter, Jane? If there’s anything that you could tell us about when she was taken…”

“What was your relationship with Dr. Brenner? You guys keep in touch?” Hopper asked, observing from the doorway carefully.

Joyce fumbles with trying to unfold the picture for a second. “This is, uh... this is him. This is Will. Uh, you may have seen him on... on the news. Uh…”

Hopper casts his gaze to the relative, confused/concerned. “What’s wrong with her?”

“I told you, you’re wasting your time.” She replies, sadly.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

The four shopping carts rolled inside with ease, the duo looking around the place, that long been abandoned in their world, that they found use for. Stephanie nods after a while, the trap she thought of earlier was now fully registered.

“Yep. This is the place.” She said, while slinging the guns off her shoulders and putting them to the side.

“Where do we set it up?” Will asked, still not picturing it like she is.

“Everywhere. Let’s leave no square inch untouched.” She locks eyes with him. “And then we’re going to practice, over and over so we don’t get caught in them. Alright?”

“Right.”

“Good. Let’s get everything out. There’s no telling when the Demogorgon will return.” They’re both running out of time. For their sake, their sanity, they have to find a way out soon or they’re done for. So, thus starts the grueling process of trap making.

Will made sure to listen carefully as she explained what needed to be where – where to pour the gasoline, where to stick the trip wire, where to hide, etc. And they did practice like she said, in one area that was a pool of alcohol and gasoline just below where the broken bell tower stood, she showed him where to step on the bricks in order to not get any liquid on them. It was hard, especially when he knows they’re going to be running instead of walking when the Demogorgon does show up, but damn it to hell! He will not mess this up. He’s going to stay calm and stick to the plan that he wholeheartedly believes is going to work.

Will finds himself setting aside another Molotov cocktail, before looking over at his companion. She was in the zone trying to saw their shotguns in half, which is a very hefty task on hand. The silence was starting to get to him a bit though, and there was still a… lingering question that was bothering him and wanted to ask, but should he? Or was it safer to make something else up? He ponders as he grabs an empty bottle before deciding to just come out and say it. What’s the worst she can do? Say no?

“Hey, Steph?”

“Yeah?” She said, eyes still trained on what’s in her hands.

“I have to ask again, but…” Should he back out? Should he–

“What is it?”

Well, here goes nothing. He takes a deep, quiet breath and says, “What happened between you and Steve?” She immediately pauses her actions, making him shrink quickly, like he was flinching away from someone’s attack. “You don’t have to tell me, I know it’s a touchy–”

“It’s fine. Really.” She meets his gaze. “I think I probably should talk about it with someone. Especially after the whole… floating-mind game I was in. I saw… a lot of memories of him.”

He fiddles with his hands nervously, curiously. “So…”

Stephanie sighs, her face flashing with pain. “I don’t know. One day he just pretended he didn’t know me.”

He blinks. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Her eyes grow distant as she recalls everything. “I remember that day clearly. We would always meet up in the doorways at school, and he wasn’t there that day. Mind you, we were both getting older, more responsibilities were being added onto us; And it was around the same time Steve was really getting into sports, so I thought maybe he was talking to one of his coaches.”

Another sigh before continuing, “Eventually, I found him, ran up to him, and I noticed he looked a bit sad so I asked him if he was okay. He told me he didn’t know who I was.” She catches the boy starting to look as hurt as she was. “I thought at first, maybe he was upset at me over something, so I tried all day to ask him what was up, and when the school day ended he just told me he has no idea who I am and why I’m bothering him and… left. We’ve never spoken again after that. Our… ten years of friendship ended just like that.”

Well…

Jesus H. Christ.

Will had no idea how to respond to this.

“Wow. What a…” He shook his head. “What a douchebag.”

She chuckles dryly. “Yeah, well, he wasn’t always like that. He’s not like what he is now. Trust me.” Then there was a bit of anger in her next words. “I suspected his parents might have threatened him with something to break our friendship. But I don’t know. Could be wrong about that.”

Will gives her a confused look. “What do you mean by that?”

She frowns, but it wasn’t directed at the said teenager. “Let me tell you a bit about Steve. He comes from a line of… rich people. Generational wealth. And due to this they have certain standards. Standards that Steve has to follow to the T.”

He blinks again, thinking. “But…” Another head shake. “But Mike’s family is not like that. I mean I know they’re not as rich as Steve’s, but still.”

“Well, a lot has to do with how Mike’s parents were raised. Not to mention, even though it might not seem like it sometimes, Karen and Ted do love each other in some way. And they really love their kids, and want nothing but the best for them. Tough and nurturing, in a healthy way.” Steph’s frown deepens. “But as for Steve’s, that nurturing and toughness goes a bit differently. Not exactly healthy.”

“How so?” Will asked, on the edge but invested in this tale.

Steph gives it some thought on how she should move forward. She had really only one story that would make sense of it all (or at least it wasn’t as violent as some of the other ones). She sets her stuff down, giving him her full attention now.

“I might have mentioned it to Dustin, or you guys, how I met Steve. Right?” She asks, waiting to confirm.

“Yeah. You said it was school.”

“But I never told anyone the full story. Not even Dustin or my mom knows.” She bites her lip and adverts her eyes for a split second. “Not even Steve knows.”

He tilts his head. “How does that work?”

She takes a deep breath. “It was probably a few weeks before the school year ended, and my class was to make cards to celebrate Mother’s day that was coming up. I remember being really excited about it. I drew my card, school ended and now I had to wait to be picked up. My mom mentioned earlier she might run behind because of work, but no biggie, I didn’t mind waiting.”

She could still picture it, holding her card close and humming a tune to herself as she waited and waited outside in front of the entrance of the Elementary school (The good old days, she calls it).

Stephanie was fiddling with her own hands now as she continued, “Kids started leaving one-by-one, and soon as I was the only one left. Or so I thought. I… suddenly heard this arguing, it was very loud, very terrible sounding, and… curiously I went to check it out, and there he was. Him and his mom. And… she’s yelling at him, telling him how crappy the card was, and how it should’ve been better, or this what he should have done, etc. And–” She swallows, hands tightening together. “Steve’s on the verge of tears, and he’s trying to come up with an explanation for her, and he promises he’ll do better and… um…”

“What?” He says, a bit scared for what was next. Especially when he saw the haunting look on her face.

“She… slaps him. Right across the face. And it was one of those slaps you know it hurt just by the sound of it.” His eyes widened. “Then, she grabbed him by the arm and dragged him back to the car.” She sighs and shifts in her seat. “I was so shocked by it, ‘cause I never witnessed something like that before, so…” She shakes her head with a small groan. “God. I think at first I… I befriended him because it was out of pity, but that soon went away quickly. We became two peas in the pod in just one day. Never, ever alone.”

“That’s…” He was lost for words. “That’s so awful– So wrong. W-Why would they think that’ll make things better?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“But…” His fingers clenched his pants legs like a nervous tick. “D-Did they do anything else? We’re they always like that?”

Stephanie’s face morphed into total sadness now. “Listen, there’s a lot of stories I can’t tell you about his parents. They’re not exactly… kid friendly, to put it lightly. But yeah, they’ve done a lot of that, and a hell lot more.”

“Jesus.”

“But that’s why we worked together so well, Will. We complimented each other. He had shitty parents, and I was dealing with a shitty dad. We both helped each other navigate around that.” And ain’t that the truth. “But, besides all that negative stuff, he was a great kid. Me? I was a quiet kid, like you. I kept to myself most of the time, but Steve helped me come out of my shell. As for Steve? I helped him live a little, I helped him have a life that his parents never wanted him to have.”

“T-Then they should be grateful!” He says, sitting up straighter, more lively in his seat. “Y-You befriended their son. You were always there for him.”

“Will–”

“You helped him. Why should they be so upset about all this?”

She gives him a pitiful look for his sweet little heart he had. “Because I wasn’t perfect.” Her throat suddenly felt like it wanted to close up. “I wasn’t rich, I was a wild card. I had a sad, workaholic mother who was trying to keep us afloat, and a father that gambling 24/7 to the point we almost went bankrupt. There were a lot of cons in their eyes compared to the pros, which is probably zero.”

Despite the reasons, Will still couldn’t understand. She did nothing wrong! They should be mad at her. “But you were their son’s friend. That shouldn’t matter.”

She smiles just a tad and says, “You’re so sweet. I wish more people in the world could be like you. That’s why…” How does she cheer him up? “You gotta marry someone who is as kind hearted as you. So the legacy lives on.”

He snorts (Bingo!). “You sound like my mom.”

“Well, she’s not wrong.” She smirks. “But… I’ll tell you something funny about Steve. Maybe you can use it against him since he’s dating Mike’s sister.”

“And what’s that?” He asks, skeptical.

“Guess what his middle name is?”

“Mmm… I don’t know. What?”

She grins. “Steven Grant Harrington.”

“Steven Grant–” He gasps. “Captain America!”

“Yep.” Steph chuckles. “Captain America. I remember when Steve told me his name, I started laughing. He was confused and I told him the truth. At first he was a little mad, but when I explained who Captain America was he seemed cool with it.”

“That’s awesome.”

“If you ever want to tease him, just call him Grant.”

“Oh, I’ll definitely remember that.” He finds himself smiling too and picking back up the empty bottle to continue his work. “My name’s Jacob.”

She perks up. “Jacob?”

“Named after my mom’s father.”

“That’s sweet. I’m Elizabeth.”

“Elizabeth?”

“My mom is a huge Elizabeth Taylor fan. I’m honestly surprised that wasn’t my first name.”

“Where does Stephanie come from?”

“Grandmother. At least that’s what she told me. But who knows? Knowing my mom… she got it off some cheesy magazine about cats.”

That seemed to do the trick for cheering him up because Will broke into a belly laugh that she hasn’t heard in a while. To her, besides “Separate Ways”, this was probably the best music she’s heard in a long time.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“This is weird without Lucas.” Dustin finally said after a long period of silence in the car. It felt weird, super weird not having all of his friends together at once. It already felt weird when Will disappeared, but now there’s no Lucas? Not much of a group anymore.

“He should’ve shaken my hand.” Mike said, just as Steve scolded him not to put his feet on his dashboard.

“He’s just jealous.”

Mike’s face morphed into confusion as he turned his whole body around to look in the backseat. “What are you talking about?”

Dustin sighs. “Sometimes, your total obliviousness just blows my mind. He’s your best friend, right?”

“Yeah... I mean, I-I don’t know.”

“It’s fine. I get it. I didn’t start going to our school until the fourth grade.” He looks away, not wanting Mike to see the hurt in his eyes. Except Steve did. He caught his gaze in the rearview mirror and frowned.

Damn it.

He forgot Steve knew the reason he didn’t go to public school right away thanks to his sister.

He tries to act tough and tell him off. “I don’t need your pity Harrington, alright?” The tone made Steve break away and Mike give him the strangest look ever again.

Damn.

Damn this situation.

Dustin sighs. “He had the advantage of living next door. But none of that matters. What matters is that he is your best friend.” He swallows. “And then this girl shows up and starts living in your basement, and all you ever want to do is pay attention to her.”

“That’s not true.” Mike reassures him.

“Yes, it is. And you know it. And he knows it. But no one ever says anything until you both start punching and yelling at each other like goblins with intelligence scores of zero. Now everything’s weird.”

“He’s not my best friend.”

Dustin laughs. “Yeah, right.”

Mike sighs, reaching over to tap in the arm to get his attention. “I mean, he is, but so are you. And so is Will.”

“Can’t have more than one best friend.”

“Says who?”

“Says logic.”

“Well, I call bull on your logic, because you’re my best friend, too.”

Dustin notices his genuine expression and smiles, satisfied with the reply. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Uh, hey, guys.” Steve interrupts, slowing the car down a little as the past pays a local grocery store. All eyes were on the front, spotting how the automatic doors were shattered and there were boxes of food laying around the parking lot filled with men in blue. “So… I’m assuming that might be…?”

Mike nods. “Uh... definitely. We’re going in the right direction then.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The sister, Becky, brought them to the kitchen table, offering them cigarettes and some water while promising to explain. “She was a part of some study in college.”

“MK Ultra?” Hopper asks, getting a nod.

“Yeah, that’s the one.” She sighs. “Was, uh, started in the ’50s. By the time Terry got involved, it was supposed to be ramping down, but the drugs just got crazier. Messed her up good.”

“This was the CIA that ran this?”

Becky stared at for a second before a small smirk bestowed on her face. “You and Terry would’ve gotten along. ‘The Man’, with a big capital ‘M’.” Another sigh. “They’d pay... you know, a couple hundred bucks to people like my sister, give ’em drugs, psychedelics. LSD, mostly. And then they’d strip her naked and put her in these isolation tanks.”

“Isolation tanks?” Joyce asked after sparing a look with Hopper.

“Yeah.” She nods and stares explaining with her hands. “These big bathtubs, basically, filled with salt water, so you can float around in there. You lose any sense of, uh… sense and feel nothing, see nothing. They wanted to expand the boundaries of the mind. Real hippie crap. I... I mean, it’s not like they were forcing her to do any of this stuff. The thing is, though, is that she didn’t know she was pregnant at the time.”

“Jane.” Joyce whispers, getting another nod. She takes in a sharp inhale and asks, “Do you have any pictures of her?”

Becky paled and made sure they were both listening carefully. “I don’t think you guys understand. Terry miscarried in the third trimester.” Her words were like a knife to their heart, catching them both completely off guard.

“What?” Hopper said without realizing it at first.

“Come.” She says, standing up and making them follow. She takes them to a bedroom, a baby room, filled with a crib, toys, and anything else a newborn needs. “She keeps all of this up. Been doing it for 12 years.” She takes a seat, allowing them to walk around and observe. “Terry, uh, pretends like Jane is real, like she’s gonna come home someday. Says she’s special. Born with ‘abilities’.”

“Abilities?” Joyce asked, confused.

“You read any Stephen King?” Becky asks, surprising them again. She laughs. “You guys look scared, actually. I mean, it’s all make-believe.”

“What... what kind of abilities?”

“Telepathy, telekinesis… You know, shit you can do with your mind. That’s why the big, bad Man stole Jane away. Her baby’s a weapon, off fighting the commies.” She takes a long puff of her cigarette, frowning. “You know, the doctors all say it’s a coping mechanism. You know, to deal with the guilt.”

Joyce locks eyes with Hopper again before continuing, “Do you think there is any chance she could be telling the truth? Ab-About having had the kid.”

“There is no birth certificate, nothing from the hospital. Doctors and nurses all confirm that she miscarried.”

“Yeah, but that could’ve been covered up.” Hopper says, straightening up. “Right?”

Becky smirks again. “Like I said, you and Terry would’ve gotten along.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

After Jonathan explained what Hopper had found to Nancy, sure enough, his mother’s hunch was right. The eldest Wheeler needed some answers, and wasn’t going home until she got them. So he took up his mother’s suggestion and decided to stock up on ammo, getting ready for whatever comes next.

“Monster Hunting?” He teased, as they came out of the store with a few boxes. He was poking fun at her response to the clerk asking why they were buying so much, and could help but laugh.

Nancy cracks a smile as she pops the trunk. “You know, last week… I was shopping for a new top I thought Steve might like. It took me and Barb all weekend. It seemed like life or death, you know? And... and now–”

“You’re shopping for shotgun shells with Jonathan Byers.”

“Yeah.” She chuckles.

“What’s the weirdest part? Me or the ammo?”

She gives him a playful look and says, “You. It’s definitely you.” Then their little moment was immediately ruined when someone honked their horn and rolled their window down to shout:

“Hey, Nance! Can’t wait to see your movie.”

The highschoolers laughed as they drove off quicker, stunning them both.

“What the hell was that?” Jonathan asked, as she shrugged. But then it hit her. “What?” She suddenly takes off. “Wait! Where are you going? Nancy!”

It didn’t take long for him to catch up, finding her staring up at the local theater sign. The movie that was playing was called: “ALL THE RIGHT MOVES”, and was followed by a very unpleasant word mixed into her name that was written in bright red spray paint.

“Oh, Jesus.” He mutters, but before he could apply any comfort, she stormed off again. “Nancy!” He followed her again, this time down an alleyway where he saw all the douchebags of high school were standing around and giggling.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” Nancy yells, getting their attention.

Tommy, the one who had the spray paint can, takes center stage with a cocky look and attitude. “Well if isn’t the star of the show.” His eyes then trail to Jonathan. “And the devil himself. How we all doing?”

Nancy grits her teeth and smacks him across the face, the crowd ‘ooh-ing’ as he takes it like a champ. “What the fuck are you doing? Why would you write that?”

“‘Cause it’s the truth. You… have one fight with your Boyfriend and suddenly he’s not good enough for you, huh?”

“What?”

“What did you say to him? What was so bad that he suddenly isn’t showing up to school anymore? Or…” He jerks his thumb in Jonathan’s way. “How you just decided that the weirdo is better than the King? Come on.”

“Seriously?” Nancy scoffs. “You think I’m the reason that Steve’s not showing up at school? Unlike you, I’ve actually called him and even went to his house, to which he told me specifically that he was fine. Why hasn’t he been showing up? I don’t know! Maybe because he had to attend an old friend’s funeral yesterday?”

Carol snickers and laughs. “The nerd? Stephanie fucking Henderson? You really think those two were ever friends? He just felt sorry for how fucked up her family was and took pity.”

“Yeah.” Tommy says, grinning. “A drug addicted mother, a father arrested for illegal gambling; Two ‘fantastic’ people managed to fucked their own son over and give him all kinds of birth defects and diseases. I’m surprised your family gives them so much pity.”

“W-Wait…” Nancy pauses to try to wrap her head around what she had just heard. “Claudia…” What? “Ms. Henderson isn’t a drug addict.”

“Awe.” Carol pretends to pout. “Looks like Steve’s parents haven’t gotten close to you yet. What a shame.”

“His parents have a lot of dirt on a lot of people.” Tommy said in a sickening way. “Especially the Hendersons. There’s so much that this town doesn’t know about them, it’s shocking. Stephanie has a shit ton.” He chuckles. “God, the Harringtons can bury her to the center of the Earth with all the dirt they have on her.”

Then they all started laughing at the cruel joke it was, and Nancy was ready to go off when Jonathan took her by the arm and started stringing her away.

“Let’s go.” He says, calmly, but the bullies weren’t done yet.

“You know what, Byers? I’m actually kind of impressed.” Tommy says, trailing them. “I always took you for a queer, but I guess you’re just a screw up like your father.” He shoves him forward. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, that fucking house full of screw-ups. You know, we shouldn’t be surprised. A bunch of screw-ups in your family.”

“Tommy, stop.” Nancy hisses, as he shoves Jonathan again.

“I mean, your mom– I’m not even surprised what happened to your brother.”

“Tommy! Shut up!”

“I’m sorry I have to be the one to tell you, but the Byers, their family, it’s a disgrace to the entire–”

And that was the final straw as Jonathan turns around and sucker punches Tommy in the face. It took a brief second for him to recognize he got hit before all hell broke loose. So much so…

That this day ended with one of them in handcuffs.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The leaves crushed beneath their feets as they continue their trek along the train tracks, occasionally yelling the girl’s name. From where the trashed grocery store was, it laid directly near the forest that they’ve been wandering for a while now – staying in the direction they think she went. It shouldn’t be that hard then, right? Wrong. Going in one freaking direction didn’t seem that bad, but the tall trees didn’t seem to end any time soon. And what if she broke off? What if she went some other way? Then what? How many days will it take for them to comb the area until they find something?

This all feels so… pointless. Steve admits in his thought. I mean, he probably combed at least nothing less than a quarter of forest last night, and he didn’t find anything! Nothing to point him in the right direction. And now, he and the boys actually had a lead and… nothing. Nothing at all. As much as the tiny voice in his head telling him to stop and go home, he knows Eleven’s the only way of finding their loved ones.

And that is if she wants to help us after all this. He frowns, thinking about that. What if they find her and she blows them off? Then what? Do they just truly forget about her and move on? Nah…

He knows that’s not the right answer either. But what if–

“Should we split up?” Mike asked, knocking the teenager back into reality.

“Absolutely not.” Steve immediately says, as they all slow down to talk. “Like I told you guys, whoever’s involved in this is not afraid to get their hands dirty.”

The kid sighs, remembering. “Yeah. You’re right. I forgot…”

“But what if we do?” Dustin said, shrugging.

Steve squares up and stands his ground quickly, prepared for an argument again. “Henderson–”

“No, seriously. What if we do? We can get it done quicker.”

“No. No splitting up.”

“We’ll get done–”

“I don’t care if it’ll get done quicker. We’re staying together. End of story.” Steve finishes, as he starts walking again alongside Mike.

“Then what do you expect us to do, Steve?” Dustin snaps, stopping them all once more.

“What?”

“You said it yourself, you checked the woods last night and didn’t find a thing! And that was just around the junkyard.”

“And your point being?”

“Yeah, man. What’s this about?” Mike asked, confused.

“This place is huge!” The curly haired boy yelled, throwing his arms out. “And you think just the three of us are going to cover it all today?”

Steve blinks, more puzzled by the question than the attitude. “Well… no. Of course not–”

“Then we should split up! Cover more ground.”

“Henderson–”

“Look, it’ll be easy. You continued this way, Mike goes left, I go right, and then–”

“Oh, my god– we are NOT splitting up!” Steve explodes, silencing him. “You can argue with me all you want, but it’s not going to happen. We are going to keep looking together, or you can march your butt straight back to the car and we’re done. Got it?!”

The boys stay quiet, Steve’s flushed face turning normal before walking away, Mike on his heels once more.

Dustin chuckles dryly under his breath. “You’re so useless…”

“What was that?” Steve perked up, slowing down again.

“You’re useless. Here I am having a solution to our problem, and you don’t want to take it.”

The eldest scoffed. “I am not useless. And only turned down your ‘solution’ because it’s too dangerous.”

“So what if it’s dangerous? This whole thing has been dangerous since the beginning!” The boy yells, throwing his hands in the air. “Will and Phanie taking a gun, a girl with real life superpowers, fake bodies, other worlds leaking into ours– this whole thing has been dangerous! So we might as well continue dipping our toes into it!”

Mike cuts in quickly after noticing the tension in the teenager’s form. “Dustin, I know you determined to find Stephanie, but maybe–”

“No, Mike! No ‘Maybes’! We should be taking risks at this point! I mean–” Dustin groans. “God!” He points at the oldest. “You’re so fucking stupid! I-I don’t know how or why my sister ever cared for you. I don’t know why she still cares for you! It’s so… fucking bizarre!”

“Dude…”

His response made Steve scoff again, trying to play it cool. “What are you even talking about? She doesn’t care about me.”

“Oh, yeah?” Dustin said, hands on his hips to look stern. “Well… news flash Harrington, she does. Even after what you did, she still gave a damn about you.”

“I…” What is he going on about? “That’s… that’s not possible.”

“Well, here then!” He digs around into his pocket, and fiercely tosses something at him. “Is that enough proof for you?”

Steve manages to catch it before it hits him in the chest. Expecting something completely different, of course that gold chain with a red pendant catches him off guard. A gift he gave to her many years ago for her birthday… one that she still had.

She… kept this? He was so surprised he didn’t notice Dustin moving past him, beckoning for his friend to follow. Mike hesitates for a second, feeling empathy towards the older teen before he ends up leaving with his head hung low. His thumb brushes over the initials, swallowing hard as his heart clenches at the memories.

“Oh, yeah?” He shouts, turning around in their direction bitterly. “I’m still going to look for Eleven, you shitheads! And you’re going to regret going off on your own!” He doesn’t know why he half expected them to stop and turn around, but it was enough to make him cuss and go another way.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Joyce closed the car door a little more than she should have before covering her face with her trembling hands. This did… not go as planned as they thought.

“Hey…” Hopper interrupts her thoughts, softly.

She sniffles. “What?”

“We’re gonna find him.”

“Yeah, like Terry found her daughter?”

He swallows, subtly, trying to keep it together – to be the strong one right now. “We’re close.”

She shakes her head. “B-But Tw-Twelve years? Twelve years she’s been looking for her and– oh god. Stephanie. W-We… we have to look for her too, and–”

“And then Jane shows up at Benny’s five nights ago, which means we’ve got a chance.” He inhales. “You know what I would give? For a chance? You know what I would give?”

“Hop–”

She was cut off by the sound of his walkie’s static, followed by Callahan’s voice.

[ ‘Hey, Chief, you there? Hey, Chief?’ ]

He fishes it from his side, hitting the button. “Yeah, go ahead.”

[ ‘Yeah, a fight broke out here and–’ ]

Hopper bites his lip. “Cal, I don’t have time for this–”

[ ‘It’s Jonathan Byers.’ ]

Well that stopped him from hanging up. Him and Joyce both froze and looked at each other with confusion.

[ ‘Uh, you haven’t seen Joyce, have you?’ ]

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

After shouting her name for a while, Mike nervously decided to ask, “Don’t you think that was a bit harsh?”

“What?” Dustin glances at him. “Do you think it was?”

“Uh… yeah.” He shrugs. “A little.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Dude–” Mike stops them both. “Listen, I get it. You’re upset ‘cause he hurt your sister. But you don’t think it’s weird he’s helping us then?”

Dustin tilts his head, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Well…” How does he put this? “I mean, have you ever wondered why he stopped being friends with your sister? Like… did he have a reason for it?”

“Mike–” The warning starts.

“Here me out.” He holds his hands up. “What if he had to? What if he didn’t want to stop being friends but he had too? I mean, if he just broke the friendship because he hated her, then why is he here helping us? Have you ever thought of that?”

Well…

Of course not.

His eyes widened at it, at the slim possibility that there may have been a reason for all this. But just as he says his friend’s name, Mike froze at a sound.

“Do you hear that?”

“What?”

“El!” Mike looks around, hopefully. “El!”

But as the leaves kept rustling around, the sound getting closer, he had waited for the girl to come out from behind the trees and…

Totally not a pissed off Troy and James.

“Hey, there, Frogface.” Troy hissed, popping open his switchblade.

“Toothless.” James grinned maliciously.

“Shit!” Dustin screams, hitting his friend in the arm to make him go. “Run, Mike! Run! Come on!”

The bullies take off after them yelling, “You’re dead, Wheeler. You’re dead, Henderson! DEAD!!”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Meanwhile, back at the police station, Nancy was waiting impatiently (Both wanting to leave, and wanting the front desk lady take forever to make an ice pack).

“Do you think we’ll be out of here soon?” She finally asked.

“You, yes. Him, no. He assaulted a police officer.” Flo explained, her reply was unsatisfying.

“Well, how long are you gonna keep him?”

“You and your boyfriend have big plans, do you?”

Nancy shakes her head and laughs. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

Flo gives her a look. “I think you better tell him that.”

“What?”

“Only love makes you that crazy, sweetheart.” Flo hands her the homemade ice pack. “And that damn stupid.”

When she leaves the words lingered in her head more than she thought they would have. She has a boyfriend for Christ’s sake! They shouldn’t be making her think too much about her and Jonathan’s relationship…

Right?

“Found some ice.” Nancy says, as she walks up to where he’s sitting – handcuffed to one of the officer’s desks. She smiles, trying to hide the thoughts as he locks eyes with her.

“Thanks.” He says, leaning into the ice pack as she holds up to his bruised side. It doesn’t take a genius to know that something was bothering her, prompting him to ask, “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” She reassures him, reassures herself. “Everything’s fine.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

“Everything okay?” Will asks, as he finishes loading the last of the ammo up when Stephanie reenters the building.

“Yeah. Everything’s fine.” She says, nodding. “Alright, the wire is set around the building. Whatever direction the Demogorgon comes from we’ll know. That should give us a good starting point towards a gate.”

“Right.” Just as he said that, their little decoy light flickered on and off rather quickly. They locked eyes with each other, the girl mouthing, ‘Be Ready.’

“I’m going to check a trap real quick.” Steph says the code word, before disappearing.

“Sounds good.” Will takes a deep breath, reminding himself to stay strong and not stray from their plan. We got this. We got this. It’s going to work, and we’re going home.

He turns away from the open space of the room, facing the wall. His eyes trail to the shotgun hidden by his feet, the light flickering again, telling him to start kneeling to the floor. He felt the hair on the back of his neck stick up, a low growl from somewhere behind him as he acts like he’s fixing the light to stay on. He felt the presence move closer and closer, he could hear the boney fingers cracking open, its face slowly doing the same. Just when he notices the shadow looming overing him, he shouts,

“STEPHANIE!”

The girl suddenly comes out of her hiding spot and slashes the nearest hand clean off. A shriek erupted from the beast, and just before it could retaliate, Will took a shot with the gun – officially starting their trap. Will took shot after shot, while Steph swung the axe into places she could get, ultimately backing the beast into some wiring, evidently knocking it over temporarily.

“Let’s go!” She shouted, and they were off on a run… and soon was the Demogorgon.

Just like they had practiced, they ran across the stepping stones with ease, heading for the stairs as the beast bathed itself in a concoction of liquid death. About a quarter of the way up, she swung the axe high and skillfully hacked some rope in half, her and Will covering their heads with their elbows to protect themselves from the raining shards of glass and nail from the tarp they put up. The Demogorgon shrills again and tries to navigate through the sharp storm.

Will takes a good look back at the girl and asks, “You ready?”

“Yep. Let’s finish this.” She replies, getting a nod and a flash of determination as they continue to run all the way to the top.

The Demogorgon was met with Molotov cocktail after Molotov cocktail, courtesy of the Byers boy, bidding enough time for Steph to slip by to the other side of the tower without falling. With the rope in her hand, she signals the boy she’s done, and switches roles with him. Dropping the axe and taking the hand gun from her side and starts firing. Will takes this chance to move away, grabbing the other end of the rope and begin entangling it.

Their plan was to trip it over the edge, falling back below to the toxic pool – but I guess cutting off its hand seemed to fuel its rage as the tripping technique doesn’t seem to be effecting it like they hope. The Demogoron thrashed its good arm around, managing to nick Will in the bicep.

“Will!” Steph shouts, her worries making her loosen her grip. She almost gets sliced as well, having just enough to react and jump backwards. The rope slips from her hands, her body stumbling into the wall, the beast taking an opportunity to charge. She scramblings out of the way, running to the other corner to scoop up the shotgun they placed there, and fires away.

“Stephanie!” Will yells, scaredly. No. This wasn’t the plan. They need to get that thing to fall or they can’t finish it off. But how? Their tripping plan didn’t work? Come on, come on, come on! Think! What else?

His eyes frantically looked around, they had weapons, they had rope, what else? And that’s when he finally noticed it.

The bell! He mentally gasps, getting an idea. “Stephanie!!” He shouts her name, and starts running to scoop up the discarded axe. “Get as close to the edge as you can!!”

Steph didn’t question it, knowing she didn’t have many options left in store. She starts aiming directly at the face, hoping her shots make it as she stands her ground. If she gets hurt by the Demogorgon, she gets hurt. Trusting her little partner in crime, she kept pelting it until she noticed where its footing was, and took another shot in its mouth. Then, using all the strength she could, she uses the butt of the gun to strike it, its heels dipping right over the edge–

Will lets out a yell of frustration as he swings the axe right into the rope that was holding the bell up. Snapping and dropping almost immediately, it manages to clip the Demogorgon, sending it free falling to the floor. It screams all the way down, the two of them meeting to look at their results. The pair watches as the beast tries clawing the broken bell of its lower half – splashing the alcohol and gasoline around, re-bathing itself in it.

Without muttering a word to one another, Stephanie digs out a lighter, switching it on; No hesitation as she lets it slip out of her fingers. The impact of the lighter caused the place to shake a little, the heat from the flames were so intense that she ended up shielding the boy’s face when it landed.

Its scream turned up by a hundred as they made it down the stairs, carefully avoiding the flames until they came to a safe spot. Sure enough, the Demogorgon was definitely Barbequing now. They could smell the burnt flesh, its discolored blood spilling out, and becoming weaker and weaker, all as they watched with disgust on their faces.

Fill with unexplained rage, Stephanie, who had one last load in the chamber, takes a step forward. Then another… then another… then another, the flames itching to get her too. The Demogorgon’s hand flopped around on the ground in its poor attempts to get her, its mouth opening for one last weak scream–

She sticks the short barrel in the center of it, the shells doing its job as the trigger pops.

Droplets doused her face, letting the gun fall along with its head, the creature officially not moving anymore.

Now they’re outside, the flames still could be seen through the murky stained glass window. The two of them just stared at it, dirty clothes and tired eyes, stomach grumbling from their worked up appetite. However, they weren’t done just yet.

“Just in case?” Will broke the ice first, looking at her with a blank expression that she returns.

“Just in case.” She repeats, before fishing out another lighter. “Care to do the honors?”

He takes it with his bruised hand, flickering it on and watching it for a second before throwing it at the foot of the building. The line of gasoline they poured around it erupted like fireworks, like…

Like it was their grand finale. A big old ‘Fuck You’ to this shitty place.

But despite the wave of emotions, the one of disgust, then nothingness… It soon ended with them laughing and crying of pure relief that they could finally breathe in a place like this.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Steve was this close to picking a fight with a freaking oak tree. He knew he shouldn’t get mad, I mean… Dustin did have a point about splitting up, but he knew he couldn’t risk that. He saw whomever these people were not afraid to get their hands dirty, and couldn’t risk anything happening to these kids but…

Jesus.

Dustin was really pissing him off. But he also wasn’t pissed off? The necklace he threw at him, the very one he gifted to the older Henderson all those years ago, the one he was for sure had been thrown in the trash at this point, was now in the palm of his hand, was fucking taunting him now?! I mean, Steve kept a box of things that he got on his and Steph’s adventures, but that was him. He thought after breaking her heart at school, he was sure that she would have trashed everything he’s given her over the years.

I guess he was wrong about that.

He rubbed his face with his hands, biting his lip as guilt started creeping back. It was guilt about their friendship, but there was also some that came from the boys he decided to freaking abandon moments ago.

Abandon. He just abandoned those kids because he was mad! Them being assholes or not, he should’ve been the grown up here and stood his ground despite if it meant potentially strangling Henderson. I mean what if something happens to them? How the hell would he explain that to their parents?

He completely stops, mentally slapping himself. “God. What the fuck am I thinking?”

Just as Steve was about to turn around and go looking, he heard something. He carefully looks around, starting to think he imagines it until he swears there was a person like shadow casting out from behind a nearby tree.

“Eleven?” He takes a hopeful small step forward. ��I know that’s you. I can see your shadow.” That statement was enough to confirm it when the shadow moved slightly and the leaves rustled quietly. “Hey, can you come out? I just want to talk.”

But what did he expect? Just for her to come out and run into his arms? No. Of course not. However she was right there, just four steps ahead, and he’s not losing her this time.

“Listen, I’m not mad, okay? And I’m not just saying that so you can come out. I mean it. And…” How does he word this? “I don’t know why you chose to mess up the compass, you clearly had a reason, a reason I kind of agree with Wheeler, I think you wanted to protect us. Why? From? I don’t know, but I want to know. You have to tell me, you have to tell us.”

Please say something. Or move a bit so I know you’re acknowledging me. But neither of that happens, so he keeps going.

“I promise you, none of us are going to be angry. But you have to understand, time is of the essence right now, we have to find Stephanie, we have to find Will. So…” He knows his voice trembled at the end, but who cares. Maybe the honesty will help his case. “Please. Will you come out? Come out and talk to me? Please, Eleven?”

It’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Or in this case…

Screaming.

Steve’s head snapped in the direction of where he just came from, the familiarity of the screams made his stomach drop.

“Shit.” He mutters, looking one last time at the tree before taking off, hoping he isn’t too late for whatever reason they’re screaming for. Him running away was the missing chance of him seeing the girl’s gaze on him with a frightful face, wondering too what is happening to her friends.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The boys were running out of steam fast. It didn’t take long until their bullies had surrounded them, just off a trail that wraps around the whole quarry. With their stomach turning, and their hearts pounding in their ears, they scooped up any “weapons” they could find for defense.

“Stay back! Don’t come any closer!” Mike said, before chucking a rock at James.

The bully laughed at the terrible aim. “Nice throw, numbnuts.”

Dustin, in one last attempt to fight them off, comes full swinging at Troy with his stick – a complete fail too. Now, he was struggling to break free from his hold, as the switchblade was placed just under his chin, causing him to freak out.

“Let him go!” Mike yells, urgently. “Let him go!”

“Stay back, or I cut him!” Troy snaps.

“What do you want?!”

“I want to know how you did it!”

“How I did what?”

“I know you did something to me. Some nerdy science shit to make me do that!”

Mike almost rolled his eyes at the statement. “You mean piss your pants?”

Dustin, being Dustin, replies with, “Our friend has superpowers, and she squeezed your tiny bladder with her mind.”

“Shut up!” Troy grits his teeth, bringing the blade closer to his face. “I think I should save Toothless here a trip to the dentist. Help him lose the rest of his baby teeth.”

“Let him go.” Mike says again. “Let him go!”

“I’ll let him go, sure. But first... it’s your turn.”

“My turn for what?”

“Wet yourself.”

“What?”

“Jump…” Troy’s eyes gesture to the open water below. “Or Toothless here gets an early trip to the dentist.”

“NO!!” Dustin shouts, shaking his head, trying to wiggle out of the hold. “Stop! No! No!”

“Or I’ll cut him right now!” He continues, the blade now resting right on his lips, causing his hostage to whimper.

Mike shook with anger, but he had no choice. He didn’t want to be the cause of his friend getting hurt. “All right, just hold on!” He says, looking between the bullies as he starts walking away. “Hold on!”

“Mike, don’t do it. I don’t need my baby teeth, Mike! Mike, seriously, don’t!” His friend pleas, but he’s not listening as he gets closer and closer to the edge, stopping just as his toes went past the line.

With his big brown eyes he looks down at the blue water and wonders what hitting that would feel like. The fall was what? 50 feet? 70? Maybe a hundred? Would he even survive this? Would he never see any of his friends or family again? He hears Dustin pleading with him once more, and almost takes a step back, a step back to maybe striking up a deal with Troy; But would he even listen? Maybe jumping really was the only option here, so…

“Troy, I don’t think this is a good idea, man.” James says, a bit scared at the idea, yet his friend blows him off.

“Mike, don’t!” Dustin screams, as Mike takes a deep breath and starts closing his eyes, bracing himself for whatever awaits him below.

“Dentist’s office opens in five–”

This is for Dustin.

“Four!”

I’m sorry everyone.

“Three!”

Say Hi to Will and Steph for me.

“Two!”

Dustin yells his name.

“One!”

Just as Mike lets his foot slip down for the descent he felt himself get yanked backwards by his collar…

Someone else using the momentum to take his place.

He had enough time to stop himself from tumbling to see him plummeting into the Quarry.

“STEVE!!” Mike yells at the top of his lungs, everyone else staring in shock before running over to the edge. Now, everyone present expected to find the teenager’s body crashing into the water, or hear some kind of scream on the way down, yet instead…

They see the teenager panicking at how he found himself stopping in mid air like he could suddenly fly.

“Holy shit.” Dustin said, blue orbs blown wide just seconds before Steve started floating back towards them.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!” The Harrington spewed, limbs frantically moving. He continued his descent up and up, right over the four boys and landing semi-gently on the ground.

“Steve?!” Mike said, surprised (and relief blooming onto his face).

He shot straight up in the sitting position, his hair a mess, his eyes big like saucers, his heart pounding like a never ending drum. What the heck just happened? “How the hell did I…?”

And right on cue, like you could hear boss music play as Eleven was storming over, her red wig gone and dirtied face full of rage. She quickly blew James off his feet, and snapped Troy’s arm like a twig. The boy cried and El told them to go. The two bullies waste no time to leave, their tails tucked between their legs as Dustin eggs them on.

“Yeah, that’s right! You better run!” He yells, a shit eating grin blooming onto his face. “She’s our friend and she’s crazy! You come back here and she’ll kill you! You hear me? She’ll kill you, you sons of bitches. She’ll kill you!”

“You think she would?” Mike asked, half rhetorical, half serious.

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe? I was just saying that to scare them.”

“I wouldn’t let that get that far, alright?” Steve says, looking at them with amusement also. “You guys okay?”

“Okay?” Mike says, helping him get up. “Dude, you took my place!”

“Yeah, well, I would do it again if I–” He trails off, just as he notices Eleven’s knees buckling. “Hey– Hey! Eleven!” The boys rush over to the unconscious girl. “Eleven?”

“Is she okay? Why did she faint?”

“She might have overdid it. Eleven? Hey? Can you hear us? El?”

Eventually, She cracks her lids open slowly, finding all the boys hovering over her like she was made of glass. Glass. They shouldn’t be looking at her like that. Not after everything she’s done.

“El, are you okay? El?” Mike said, worriedly.

“Mike...” She sobbed, lip quivering. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? What are you sorry for?”

“The gate… I opened it. I’m the monster.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “No, El, you’re not the monster.”

“You saved us.” Steve said, with a smile. “You saved me. Do you understand? You saved me. Whatever you did in the past, that’s all said and done. All that matters now is what you do in the future. Okay?”

“Okay…” She sniffles and nods. “Okay.”

“Okay.” His expression grows as he sits her up. “Come here.”

She allows herself to grab a hold of him, burying her head in his chest for a sense of comfort. Steve keeps her close, relieved that she’s here, relieved that she’s fine, relieved that she saved their lives. Whatever she’d done is done, now they must move forward and save their loved ones. But for now, they were allowed this one sentimental moment. He soon felt Mike wrapped his arms around them, just before Dustin did it too.

Steve locks eyes with him, Dustin sharing a small smile while mouthing the words ‘Thank You’. Probably for the fact that he swapped places with Mike (Or was there something else beside that?). Whatever it was, Steve copies his expression before ruffling the top of his hat before continuing with the hug.

Meanwhile, in another part of the forest, Lucas found himself hidden in a tree, watching with his binoculars as he spotted the suspiciously familiar vans behind the fence. It took him a moment to realize where he saw those vans. Realizing that he saw one parked outside his house when he left a while ago, he put two and two together right before this situation got worse. He watches as Men in uniform stroll out of the lab, guns in hand and pouring into the vehicles that made their way into the main roads.

His eyes widened and his heart skipped a beat.

“Oh, fuck.”

(TBC)

A/N: Only three more chapters to go for this season! This next one should be a "fun" ride for you all 😈

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offdensen · 9 months ago

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missed that ask meme, curious about wonder! (also didn't know you wrote, just read your trek fics they are 😳🩵🩵🩵🩵)

aw, thank you! i really appreciate that :')

okay so wonder is an old project from when i first got into trek eight years ago. i barely wrote any of the actual fic, but the unfinished outline is over 7k words. it's a beast. i have no idea if i'll ever finish it lmao

there's this movie called this is war (2012) starring chris pine (all my feelings about aos and aos!kirk aside, i love cpine. what a guy) about two guys who are spies and end up competing each other for a lady. it's a romcom. it's not good. but!!! i thought the premise of jim and spock being undercover agents for starfleet intelligence and both falling for bones would be a fun sandbox to play in.

some key notes (this shit is long sorry):

jim and spock have worked together for two years; spock nearly always calls him sir, even when they're alone in private; they both have feelings for each other but. well. they're stupid

bones is still a medical doctor, of course. fresh on the heels of a divorce, he moves to a colony planet and works in one of the largest hospitals in the capital city, avicenna clinic and emergency center

this colony planet, nasir, is located near the border of the beta and alpha quadrants. there are three main cities on the northeastern continent with a string of rural settlements between them, with each main city named after medieval muslim astronomers (al-shatir in the north, al-haytham in the south, and the capital al-khwarizmi in the middle). this continent is largely humid with regular rainstorms and 65°F average temperatures year-round, making it suitable for growing fresh produce, the planet's main export

there is some weird political stuff happening in al-khwarizmi, which is why jim and spock are sent there on assignment; an agent-in-training chekov and long-time investigator scotty are working with them in tandem, but behind the scenes

uhura is a xenolinguist studying the influence of standard on non-human colonists' languages; she is in relationship with chapel, head nurse at avicenna; they are both some of bones' only friends in the colony

sulu is a botanist specializing in xenoagriculture, studying the efficacy of the planet's soil as well as a strange fungus that's been infecting some local crops

rand is a reporter for al-khwarizmi's local news station who's been trying to uncover the reason behind the abnormally high number of political representatives resigning from their positions

and some plot beats:

jim meets bones at a bar and is drawn to him immediately; they build a quick and easy rapport; "jim feels a little butterflies-in-the-stomach high as he watches leonard leave and he makes a mental note to come back to this bar tomorrow"

he later discovers that bones is the same doctor that spock sought after in his preparatory research, having made certain to find a skilled doctor with a xenobiology background in case their mission goes awry

spock requests an interview with bones before his scheduled physical upon discovering that jim in interested in him; they Do Not get along initially, but the physical appointment goes over much more smoothly and that's when spock is like "oh. i'm also fascinated by this man"

jim and spock establish three rules about pursuing bones: not discussing one another with bones, do not infringe on one another's wooing, and no sex. at this point there's no solid "this is polyamory" but rather a "winner-takes-all" deal

it's uhura and chapel that convince bones to deliberate polyamory with jim and spock; still abiding by their rules, they agree, still keeping their knowledge of the other a secret. i'm sure that won't cause any problems in the future :)

a lot of dates. oh my god they go on so many dates. mckirk at the arboretum and camping in tents and slow dancing in a park gazebo; spones at an art gallery and a vulcan restaurant and the aquarium. someone breaks one of their rules. whoops

while all of this is happening, there's an overarching plot regarding political intrigue, a possible homicide, and a plague. it's all very ambitious and probably the reason why i never got very far. maybe one day!

#this is so long oh my god i'm so sorry it took me forever to write up lmao #asks #youandthemountains #offposting #mcspirk

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respectthepetty · 2 years ago

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Question. I have never heard of you’re my sky. And now I have added to my list because of your post. I have found that the Most popular BLs are not normally the Beat BLs according to regular fan base so……. Because I have not heard of this one I am in hopes it’s going to be a good one?? 👀

Anon, please do not trust my recommendations because I have trash taste, but as an American, I tend to like sports-themed stories. Give me a plot about an underdog in the sports world coming up against the big bad rich multiple-time winning team, and I will love the shit out of it! I will eat up media like The Mighty Ducks, Friday Night Lights ("clear eyes, full heart, can't lose"), and One Tree Hill ("I DON'T WANNA BE ANYTHING OTHER THAN WHAT I'VE BEEN TRYNA BE LATELY") because I want to root for the little guy. I didn't watch Creed and Bring It On just for the color coding.

So understand this is a BIG reason I love You're My Sky. At the center of it is a story about a dark horse (or more like a Red Rascal) who not only brings life back into his school's basketball program but also into every single person who gets involved with it. The coach, the players (FLUKE!), and his love interest all get a second shot (pun intended) at fulfilling their dreams.

Oh, and the antagonist? Perfect! People HATED the 11th episode because it had a time jump and flipped the script on our little long shot, but it brought a new layer to our despised coach who had been the enemy for the last ten episodes, AND it made sense why the lead would act the way he did, mostly to people who have played a competitive sport on a level of this nature. It's a different beast, mentally and physically, and changes people.

In addition, people lost. One of the reasons people liked My School President was because of the seriousness of the competition which was the underlying thread throughout the series, but also that the possibility of losing was very real. In You're My Sky, competition is treated the same. The team won't win simply because they want to or the narrative proclaims it. No. The actors look like they can actually play basketball, the strategies make sense, and the fear that loss can and will happen is always present. Not just in basketball, but in track, in soccer, and most importantly, in love.

I haven't even mentioned the love parts! But know that those are good too. We have childhood friends-to-lovers, a younger boy chasing an older one, and pseudo-enemies-to-lovers but one is dating the other's sister. I don't care what anyone says about the leads or the sister's boyfriend plot. They did their jobs and EPISODE SIX SUPREMACY!

The show demonstrates that no man is an island regardless of the endeavor. In order to achieve greatness, we must work with others. People will let us down, but we have to support others in order to receive support, and we need to help the people we love even in their darkest times, especially when they feel unworthy of it.

This series is a top for me, so even though some people disliked it, I hope it makes you "CHEER! CHEER!"

Let me know how you feel once and if you finish.

#you're my sky #you're my sky the series #thorn x fah #vee x dome #ai x san

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how2fit · 28 days ago

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There’s something undeniable about the power of sound to transform our mental state. We’ve all noticed this. That song comes on and it’s got you thinking some type of way—maybe you start moving your hips, maybe you feel it in your gut, or maybe your heart feels touched by the sounds that stream out of your headphones or speaker. Whether you’re dragging yourself to the gym, tackling that creative project, or simply trying to shake off the clouds of a difficult day, the right soundtrack can make all the difference in how your mind processes the challenge ahead. Science backs this up, too. Studies consistently show that music can: trigger the release of dopamine (our brain's feel-good chemical) reduce cortisol (the stress hormone) even synchronize our brainwaves into more productive patterns. In other words, music can actually be a legitimate mental health tool. I mean, who hasn’t been through a break-up where they’ve listened to almost every sad song just to let it all out? So… what playlist should you throw on based on where your mental state is at or what you want to do? We’ve got motivational and inspirational vibes, and even tunes to get you out of a rut. Motivation: When You Need That Extra Push We all know that feeling—when you’re staring at your running shoes or that blank screen, and every fiber of your being is saying “maybe tomorrow.” These playlists serve as your audio personal trainer, shocking your system with beats and rhythms that help elevate heart rate, increase adrenaline, and push you past those mental barriers. Workout Motivation 2025 (Spotify) With an impressive collection of 235 high-energy tracks, this playlist has become a staple for fitness enthusiasts everywhere. What makes it particularly effective is its careful curation of songs with beats per minute (BPM) that match different workout intensities. From warm-up tempos to sprint-worthy beats, the playlist has everything you need to get your motivation back up! BEAST MODE! (Apple Music) This mammoth 15-hour collection of 218 tracks takes a slightly different approach. Interspersed between driving beats are motivational speeches and affirmations, creating a psychological edge that addresses both the body and mind. The combo of auditory motivation and rhythmic synchronization helps overcome the mental fatigue that often precedes physical fatigue. The fast tempos trigger what psychologists call “rhythmic entrainment”—your heart rate and breathing naturally begin to match the beat, physiologically preparing your body for action. Meanwhile, the familiar, energizing tracks activate the brain’s reward center, creating a positive feedback loop between effort and satisfaction. This one isn’t only good for workouts but can also give you motivation to finally get that personal project done! Related Article: The Motivational Mindset: Stop Waiting & Find Your Strong Drive Inspiration: For Creative Thinking and Emotional Depth Sometimes, we need inspiration, not motivation. Yup, that subtle difference might matter. While motivation pushes you forward, inspiration pulls you toward something greater. These playlists access different neural pathways, stimulating: creative thinking emotional processing that elusive feeling of being connected to something larger than yourself 50 Best Motivational Pieces of Classical Music (Spotify) This four-hour journey through classical masterpieces has been carefully compiled to feature works with specific structural elements that stimulate creative thinking. From the gradual builds in Beethoven’s compositions to the mathematical precision of Bach, these pieces engage the brain’s executive function in ways that popular music often doesn’t. The lack of lyrics allows your mind to wander productively, making connections between ideas without verbal interference. In fact, when I’m writing these articles, I’m often listening to classical music (if you want more, I’d also recommend The Four Seasons; Violin concerto by Antonio Vivaldi).

Classical Motivation (Apple Music) With 74 tracks of brisk and elegant classical selections, this playlist offers a slightly different approach to inspiration. The curators have focused on pieces with consistent energy rather than dramatic emotional shifts, creating an environment of sustained focus rather than emotional peaks and valleys. This makes it particularly well-suited for extended creative sessions or deep work when maintaining a flow state is essential. Classical music, particularly pieces with complex structures, activates multiple areas of the brain simultaneously, creating new neural connections that enhance problem-solving abilities. The emotional resonance of these compositions also stimulates the release of oxytocin—often called the “bonding hormone”—creating feelings of connection and transcendence that are the hallmarks of true inspiration. Breaking Out of a Rut: Your Auditory Reset Button We all find ourselves stuck sometimes. Whether it’s a creative block, emotional inertia, or simply one of those periods where days blur together in sameness, the right soundtrack can act as a pattern interrupt for your brain, essentially rebooting your mental operating system. Dig Me Out: Songs To Get You Out of That Rut (Spotify) This playlist features various songs with specific musical elements known to trigger positive emotional responses. The tracks are characterized by major keys, upbeat tempos, and lyrical content focused on overcoming obstacles and embracing possibilities. The progression of the playlist is designed to gradually shift your mood state rather than jarring you out of your current mindset, making it effective even when resistance to change is high. You might even discover some new tracks here (I hadn’t heard almost any of these ones before but loved the vibe!). Energy Kick (Apply Music) This one really turns things up a notch. While Dig Me Out gently lifts your mood, Energy Kick is like a shot of espresso for your ears. It’s packed with high-energy tracks that have driving beats, infectious rhythms, and the kind of melodies that make you want to move—whether that’s hitting the gym, shaking off an afternoon slump, or just dancing around your kitchen. The songs here are the kind of beats that get your heart pumping and your motivation flowing. If you’ve been feeling stuck, this playlist might be exactly what you need to snap out of it. Creating Your Own Mental Health Soundtrack While these playlists are a great place to start, the most powerful playlist for your mental well-being might be the one you create yourself. Music is personal—it connects to our memories, moods, and even our bodies in unique ways. So why not build a playlist that works just for you? Here are a few ideas to get started: Songs That Bring Back Good Memories: Tracks tied to happy moments or past achievements can reignite those positive emotions and boost your mindset. Music That Moves You—Literally: Pay attention to songs that make you tap your foot, sway, or even breathe a little deeper. Your body knows what it likes. A Soundtrack for Emotional Shifts: Instead of sticking to one mood, try creating playlists that guide you from where you are to where you want to be—whether that’s going from stressed to calm or unmotivated to inspired. At the end of the day, what works for someone else might not work for you. Our brains may process music differently based on personal history, culture, and even our unique brain chemistry. The key is to experiment—notice how different sounds make you feel, and build a playlist that truly lifts you up. Related Article: 7 Ways You Can Reinvent Your Life When You're Feeling Stuck Tune In to Your Best Mental State Music is probably one of the most accessible mental health tools we have. From the adrenaline-pumping beats that get you moving to the classical masterpieces that spark creativity, sound has a direct line to our brain chemistry and emotional states. And keep in mind: The playlists shared above are just starting points.

The most powerful musical experience comes when you discover the unique combinations of sounds that resonate with your: personal neurochemistry memories goals So experiment freely, listen mindfully, and allow yourself to be moved—both emotionally and mentally—by the soundtrack you create for your life. After all, sometimes the most profound mental shift doesn’t require complex techniques or expensive interventions. Sometimes, it’s as simple as pressing play and letting the universal language of music speak directly to your soul. Related Article: The Calmness of Silent Walking: 5 Tips to Start This Mindfulness Practice

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betbeton · 3 years ago

Text

✃ Let Sleeping Dogs Die

Derek Goffard × Reader

Warnings - All Derek Route Warnings (From the Game) can be Applied

18 + Minors DNI

·GN Reader·

·A/N- might make a part two, though this feels sorta like rambling in fic form. Hopefully it's not bad·

Other Versions

Lawrence · Strade · Mason -WIP

・❥・ Masterlist

The hot sand stung your feet as you padded behind the bottle blonde who called himself your owner, the choke collar that hung loosely around your neck a not so gentle reminder that thankfully you weren't the poor sods being hunted. Even if the pats to your head and condescending words thrown your way were infuriating there wasn’t anything you could do aside from force your tail to smack against the sand like a damn dog. Though with as angry as the situation made you this was your lot in life, a pet. Sold to the highest bidder several years ago by someone you used to view as a friend, mentor, the damn bastard waited till another monster came in to replace you. After all those years with you and teaching you how to navigate the world as a beast of a person he sold you to some damn bastard who gifted you to his son. A prize for his twenty fifth birthday. That was how you became a possession of Derek Goffard, a violent bastard with too much money at his disposal. At first he used you as a stress reliever when he was upset or angry, beating you to the point of near death day after day, but the worst had been yet to come. The first year he had taken you to the desert trip he had been excited for was absolute hell, first you had been abused in more ways than you had imagined, all physically and mentally taxing. The only consolation to have been had Derek didn’t allow the older man named Jack to force himself on you, Derek stating he didn’t want to deal with the aftermath of such abuse. After all what fun is a broken toy?

The cool metal links that made up your collar sinking into your neck and cutting off your air flow jerked you out of your head. Ears flattening to your head as you tucked your curled tail between your legs earning a cackle from your tormentor. Head jerking harshly backwards as Derek yanked on your half folded ear you allowed him to direct your gaze towards the people sat tied on the ground. Four people in total an older man with a black eye and three people who seemed to be near Derek’s age. One was a sobbing woman with blonde hair sat beside a man who was also sobbing, but unlike her he wasn’t nervously darting his gaze from person to person. The last person was Derek’s offering, poor sap had thought the person purchasing them wanted to go camping. What they lacked in the sense department they made up for with determination, if the angry glint in their eye was anything to go off of. You were so focused taking in the captives appearances that you didn’t register what Derek was yelling at you until he shoved your head into the sobbing girl’s chest, when had he dragged you over to them?

Any thoughts you had brewing were forced from your head when Derek left you after shoving you into the poor woman’s breasts like someone would a naughty puppy with its own piss. Tugging your face away from the sobbing woman you couldn’t help but to feel pity for her as you leaned in once more taking a deep inhale of her scent, sweat and something sweet peaches or maybe a flower you couldn’t pin point it. Repeating your actions you worked your way down the line until you came face to face with Derek’s offering. The intensity in their eyes had an itch at the back of you head urging you to cower away and whimper to show them you didn’t want conflict, though as you leaned in to sniff at them they spoke. The words were spoken directly into your one upright ear causing it to twitch as you listened.

“I’ll free you if you help me.”

They weren’t the first person to try and get your help, but something in their voice had your tail lightly swishing in anticipation. Sadly before you could respond the sound of someone screaming met your ears at the same time as the acidic smell of cigarettes and cheap cologne assaulted your nose, which had you reeling back away from the dead meat. Scrambling you slipped several times before coming to squat behind the closest people, the cultist creeps who called themselves Komodo and Dragon. Peaking out from behind the larger of the duo’s legs you watched as Jack dropped an irate woman onto the sand before directing his gaze to the group. A harsh whistle had you standing and taking a walk of shame back behind Derek, his hand reaching back to clip the leash back to your collar. After a brief squabble over who to use as first blood Derek dropped your leash as you struggled to suppress a whimper while you watched them drag the poor sobbing blonde woman away from the other captives, a pair of hands grasping your ears as they rubbed at them dragged your attention elsewhere. Despite finding them just as terrifying you were grateful for Komodo and Dragon’s fascination with you. They always seemed to demand your attention during first blood, at least when it was there one of their victims, almost as if irritating Derek by touching you was their revenge. Though it all came to a halt, the cold fingers rubbing your ears and the screaming, the later ceasing had your eyes darting over just in time to see Derek stomping over to grab your leash and tug you back behind him. Eyes watery as you were choked by your chain you could barely see what direction the captives ran off in. Though you were left to choke and gasp for air as Derek rummaged in his pocket snapping a tracker to your choke chain, the bastard smacked your legs with his bat when you were free of your leash yelling at you to sit in camp and be a good dog.

Sadly some part of your mutt genes was fiercely loyal to Derek. How you wished you could will your feet the other direction, or maybe even sink your teeth into his throat or better yet rip out his intestines and devour them as he laid screaming on the sand gasping for mercy like all the victims he murdered.

You didn’t do any of that instead you obeyed like a good little dog, sitting down in the sand beside Derek’s bag guarding the camp as Jack liked to say. You weren’t guarding anything in truth if one of those poor sods approached camp while you were its sole inhabitant you wouldn’t stop them from pilfering it for food or water. Even if you were a dumb dog you still knew well enough someone would have to crave death to approach the camp, despite you knowing this it didn’t stop you from craving Derek’s hostage or better yet that strong looking woman Jack brought would show up. Even as Jack grabbed you collar yanking you towards one of the folding seats, mashing you head into the sand as he sat down on it only to laugh when you sputtered out grains of sand the dumb dog side of your brain held out hope someone anyone would murder these monsters.

When your hair was grabbed and you were forced face first into the older man’s crotch you fought the urge to sink your teeth into his cock as it harshly pressed into your mouth, resisted the urge to maim and kill the man before you as his erection sat heavily on your tongue. Though some idiot answered your prayers as you heard footsteps approaching the shit hole they called camp, Jack stood abruptly with a bitter laugh as he shoved you into the sand and took off after what you assumed was his captive.

Crawling back to Derek’s bag you laid in the sun sleeping for several hours until the light grew low and the air started to chill, your que to wake and find your owner to help him with a final hunt for the day. Though as you stood up from the sand dusting off you legs you made eye contact with Derek's victim, dried blood smeared on their bottom lip and the metallic smell following them a clear indication they had an encounter with one of those bastards. Though when they rushed towards you hands grasping at your collar you panicked, clawed hand slashing at them only to stop short when the chain was lifted above your head and tossed to the ground. Even if it was just a simple loop of metal it still felt as if the weight of the world was lifted from your shoulders. As they grabbed the loose fabric of your top you couldn't deny their silent urging to follow them. On their heels you ran after them, it was all a blur even when they said you were safe to wait out the night in some dank cave you still didn't quite comprehend what was happening. Until the next day you had sat by the door like a statue, ears erect and tail stiff waiting for the final boot to drop.

At around midday was when you decided to wonder out of the cave, scrambling down the loose rocky earth to the harsh desert below. Your bare feet sinking into the hot sand as you wondered head tilted towards the earth sniffing for any traces of your bastards owner's scent. The wait wasn't long, just as you had caught the scent of something decaying the noise of a vehicle nearing startled you. Standing stock still your flight or fight response didn't register, you knew that running and hiding was your best option but you couldn't will you legs to move from their spot sinking into the blistering sand.

Head dipping down as you waited for the inevitable. And when it came in the form of a bat harshly smacking into your chest there was no resistance from your body as you buckled and landed in the sand. Mouth and nose inhaling a concerning amount of grit as you wildly thrashed once on the ground, though the thrashing and scrambling to gain purchase with your clawed hands and feet didn't last long. The tap of a bat against your back had you freezing yet again curled tail shifting to try and tuck between your legs as best it could as your terrified form laid trembling on the sand. The cackle that met you ears as you were smacked in the back of the head with that damned bat, the impact caused pain to bloom on the back of your skull eyes squinting as black spots sparked across your vision. Ears ringing as you tried desperately to comprehend and absorb what you tormentor was saying.

“Listen, I would hate to have to kill my favourite puppy. So why don’t you make it up to me?” Derek tapped at your spine harshly with his bat as he spoke.

Curling into yourself your mind disassociated, it felt as if you were floating far away from this situation. Even further away more like the past, before you had been thrust into this world of torment. Even before you met that fox bastard. Back when you were just you, a simple puppy of a person who only knew borderline suffocating joy and the normalcy of pretending to be human. That's all it was in the end even now as you were treated as a pet you still would pretend to be human when Derek brought you in public, when he paraded around like he was hot shit. Though that damned bat smacking against your spine had you rocketing back to reality, the old you who was happy and content a distant fading memory. What wasn't a fading memory though was the laboured and fearful breathing your ears had picked up. Part of you had thought that, when you first encountered the monster, catching the scent of Derek's victim had been a trick of boarder line heatstroke. It would seem you had been wrong. Very wrong. As you heard them level their breathing and stand was the moment you struck as Derek's focus shifted to his preferred victim of the moment you shakily hoisted yourself up to your feet once more. Looming beside Derek you could see the momentary fear that flashed in the eyes of his victim as they thought you might betray them.

It was absurd really. You had no loyalty to anyone. Not even yourself, you would gladly sell your soul to be free of this man. But the damn idiot dog side of your brain had you longing for the damn dead meat to reassure you, for them to say everything would be alright. It irritated you and grated at your already frayed nerves. However you didn't direct any anger at them it was all reserved for Derek.

You had turned to face him just as he had reached out to grab the back of your neck. In his arrogant and distracted state you took the moment to strike. Launching yourself at him pinning him beneath your body as he hollered and struck you. Still your didn't let up, leaning down and sinking your teeth into his neck in a panicked state of your own. The metallic twinge of blood flooding your mouth had you gagging as your head thrashed from side to side, much like a dog tearing apart a toy. The sickening gurgle of your tormentor trying to order you off of him and yelling most likely obscenities at you and the world had you clamping your jaw tighter. It was perversely invigorating to steal the life away from someone who regularly made you eat corpses on these damned yearly trips, or worse if he was feeling ... particular that day.

It felt like forever of you thrashing your head and wrenching his most likely shredded esophagus from his throat, but a set of hands grabbing at your thin shirt had you reeling back. Momentarily forgetting it was Derek you had been mutilating and not some poor sap who he had purchased. Whipping around with your ears perked relief flooded your body as you came face to face with Derek's victim. Their shaking hands frantically grabbing at your face as they tucked a finger into your bloody mouth to make sure you were unharmed. The anger and borderline blood lust you had felt mere moments ago was still very present at the forefront of your mind as you snapped at their hand, sharp teeth sinking into the meat of it in warning.

Instead of treating you with anger or annoyance they backed off which left you reeling almost craving they had struck you... If only to feel the sense of normalcy being reprimanded and punished provided. Even if they did respect your boundary they still kept a hand on your body to try and sooth you, the now bloodied hand that you had attacked. They gently rubbed at your ears cooing out genuine words, that you were safe and everything would be okay. You knew they were wrong, Jack and Machete were still out there somewhere. Plotting on how to catch and mutilate the victims who remained, but when the heat had cooled down and you sat with everyone actually engaging in conversation the topic of murdering Jack came up. And it left you hopeful, even if your face was practically cacked with Derek's blood and you had secretly gone back several times that day to mutilate his corpse beyond recognition you were still excited to finally taste freedom.

#tpof x reader #derek goffard #derek tpof #tpof #the price of flesh

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neutinya · 4 years ago

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Some relationships are you, a human, with a human partner, and other are you, a human, and your 240cm tall monster bf, but that's okay - !! I included their backstory as well as the setting up of the general context for this AU below the cut so if you’re interested,,, do consider reading it fhdjdj;;; I'm really happy with how this turned out and it's super fun to draw monster tooru and his 4 arms lmao I'm super excited for this AU;;; I really wanna draw more of it dndjjxjd

Iwa is monster-hunter royal blood. However he doesn't want to be heir to the monster hunter shit so he decided to run away the day before his coronation??

As a kid he would play with all the monster animals near the forest which is where he met his lizard familiar and llama ceb. The day he runs away he brings them with him??

The moment he ran away from his kingdom and title as prince he was immediately hunted down by hunters sent by his own family for dishonouring them the Iwaizumi name. Like he's straight up wanted??? ahhh

Somewhere along the way he meets Tooru and they probably wouldn't get along at the start

?? Like they meet at some weird beer house?? And Iwa obviously sticks out because he's human and humans aren't exactly super welcomed because of the history between monsters and humans. Iwa being oblivious to the monster world obviously doesn't realise why this four armed dude won't stop pestering him in spite of his attempts to keep a low profile.

Tooru had approached him because he was sure if he didn't step in, Iwa would have been killed

Iwa was initially extremely resistant to Tooru's "advances" until Tooru whispers into Iwa's ear that "I don't know if you realised but almost every monster in this beer house is staring at you with the intent to kill, so unless you want to leave this place alive, play along and let me get you out of here"

And Iwa just looks around the room and he realises that Tooru was right so he plays along and they try to leave but one of the monsters in the beer house walks up to them and asks Tooru to back off so they could kill Iwa, and Tooru is just like "no can do, he's a friend of mine" and the dude is just like "move." But Tooru is adamant much to the annoyance of the other. A fight kinda breaks out, but much to Iwa's surprise, Tooru managed to take all of them down with ease

As they go aside, Iwa just asks Tooru why doesn't he want to kill him like the rest of the monsters and Tooru is just 🤷🤷🤷🤷🤷 Iwa apologises for causing such a big commotion and getting Tooru involved unnecessarily. Tooru says it's not a problem and Iwa not really having that much money on him, asks if he could return him in some other way? He offers a family heirloom at first but Tooru is just like "Not interested, although how about you let me tag along wherever you're headed?"

Iwa’s response is just "???" Tooru says "look, you aren't getting anywhere in these parts as a human, if I tag along, you won't have to worry too much about being killed and you returned the favour, it's a win win."

So that's how they kinda go off on their journey!!! Iwa actually learns a lot about monsters from Tooru who seemed much more knowledgeable than he looked (no offense to Tooru but that was Hajime’s genuine first impression) There were so many different types of monsters and Iwa was just?? So amazed and almost excited that there were so many things for him to learn and explore??

Like okay they had a bad first impression but he was kinda starting to like Tooru as a companion, listening to way Tooru told all those stories offered him a comfort that he never had back at home

Tooru did most of the talking honestly but Iwa was always intently listening and Tooru could tell he was intrigued and super attentive so he didn’t mind

He did ask Iwa about why he was wandering around in the first place and why the hell was he just traversing across the land with no plan or knowledge of the terrain. Iwa tells Tooru he ran away from his family but neglected to tell Tooru he was of royal monsterhunter blood. Iwa fires back the same question and Tooru responds saying “I get bored of spending all my time in the same old place every day.” neglecting to tell Iwa the fact that he too was of royal blood, the king to one of the many monster kingdoms. (Actually one of the most feared in fact??)

I was thinking the four armed form isn't his real monster form but a less scary version, he's actually a huge fearsome beast but he would walk around in this form to blend with the common folk. This also explains why people don’t recognize him, because if they really knew who he was, they’d be terrified of him.

Tooru is extremely flirty and generally enjoys teasing Hajime. Iwa's lizard does not like Tooru at all. It would be sitting on Iwa's shoulder, breathing small fireballs at Tooru whenever the brunette got too close- For example, when Tooru tries to wrap an arm around Iwa's shoulder or waist, Haji’s lizard would get extremely angry and began attacking him. Tooru is super upset about this tiny little creature preventing him from getting close to his new human companion, but nevertheless, he learns to pick moments where the lizard is asleep to try and engage with Haji

Sidenote, Iwa is a really fucking good archer and good at knives. He may not have had the heart to be a monster hunter, but he definitely had the physical skills to be one if he desired.

Of course there’s a bunch of shenanigans, but honestly speaking there’s also a good amount of sexual tension?? They have a lot of moments where they kinda save each other, whether it be having run ins with unfriendly monsters or humans, to navigating dangerous terrain and making hard decisions;;

They grow to be rather close friends I would dare say;; In fact, for the most part, Tooru would be Iwa's first genuine friend :(( Iwa was never given the luxury of having friends growing up. He spent most of his time training to be a monster hunter or learning about them, which is why he grew super attached to Tooru platonically at first

Once they have a pretty mean run in where Tooru ends up seriously hurt;; Iwa was so scared that he would lose Tooru at that moment;; Tooru fake dies to kinda tease Iwa but he didn't expect Iwa to cry, so as Iwa is there like "don't die on me you idiot-" Tooru "comes back to life" and is all like "awww is Iwa-chan crying because of me?" And Iwa, embarrassed, just punches him in the chest and wipes away his tears like "shut the fuck up asshole"

Tooru is just like "ow- I may not be dead but I'm still kinda hurt you know?" And Iwa feels bad so he just tries to play it off like "that's what you deserve dumbass" before treating Tooru's wounds. They end up spending the night at this cave near a lake where they decided to stay for a few days since Tooru was pretty beat up and the weather was pretty bad

Haji pretty much nursed Tooru back to health, finding berries, herbs and all that during the day in order to make medicine and food

I think at one point Tooru comments "You're really good at this kinda thing huh?" And Iwa is just confused like "good at what?" And Tooru elaborates "taking care of people. Not everyone can make medicine like you do you know?" And Iwa just says it was nothing and he learned most of it from reading when he was a kid

Also like I said the weather was pretty bad so imagine Iwa curling up next to his llama and lizard for warmth. Tooru finds it so fucking adorable??? Clearly the two of them loved Iwa and vice versa, but he couldn't help but feel a little jealous at the sight uxjxhdh

So like one night he just casually says "you guys sure look warm over there" and Iwa just looks at him like 😐

"I gave you my cape you know" and Tooru just "Monsters can't regulate heat like humans do, at least not my species" That was a lie but Iwa didn't know that, so he kinda just looks at Tooru funny before scooting over to Tooru and lying down next to him. His llama and lizard follow, and scoot on Tooru's other side so Tooru is kinda sandwiched in between Haji and the pets. Iwa just mumbles a quiet "now go to sleep dumbass" and Tooru just smiles like a fucking idiot

Iwa quickly dozes off but Tooru not so much, when he was sure Iwa was asleep he gently drapes the cape over Iwa instead before going to bed himself

The next day Iwa is the first to wake up and much to his fucking surprise, he was pretty much incapable of moving because Tooru had somehow wound up hugging him with two of his arms. He was so embarrassed he thought he could die so he could only stay there and not do anything. After while he realises that staying like that could only mean more mental suffering so he slowly tries inching away from Tooru to which he eventually succeeds

He does his morning routine which was to look for berries and herbs because Tooru needed quite a bit of medicine. Tooru was definitely close to being back to his healthy normal self but he still needed to make sure that everything was in check

#oiiwa #iwaoi #I fell in love with a monster king #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#my art #Iwaizumi Hajime #oikawa tooru #apparently I'm a monster fucker now #and because of that I ended up projecting onto iwa #help

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author-a-holmes · 1 year ago

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I LOVE THIS!

There's so many little gems in here even if I can already tell this whole process isn't quite for me!! I read it before going to bed but I'm going to have to reread this a couple of times and tease out the parts of your process I want to try implementing within my own!! <3

I'm going to do a little bit of a breakdown on what I'm going to try out, and what I'm not going to try, beneath the cut, in case anyone is interested in seeing how I incorporate other techniques into my own toolset, but @unbearable-lightness-of-ink don't feel obliged to wade through it!

Just thank you very much for sharing! I love learning new methods and techniques, and hearing from other writers about their processes ^_^ <3

1) Round Out The First Draft

Yes! I do this already. I don't go back and make edits while I'm writing the draft. That's possibly the fastest was for me to confuse myself, and get lost in the reeds. This is also why I need a 2nd draft for Darkling. I didn't have a huge number of things to add or change with Changeling, so when I got to the end of my frist draft it was really clean.

I start with an outline on the computer, and then as I'm writing I will build a physical timeline as I write stuck to a large sheet of craft paper that's taped to the wall of a cupboard in my living room. This really helps me keep everything neat, and logical, and in order, so I've never needed to go back and add a whole lot of stuff at the end of the first draft before.

Darkling's become a different beast, I've still got about 7 chapters to go, and I already know (from my physical timeline building) that I need to add a lot of content, and at one point a whole new chapter, which is why I'm looking at a 2nd draft for the first time.

2) Leave It To Cool

This is common writing advice because it works really well for a lot of people. It doesn't work for me. I've tried it, and I get bored too easily. I have to be able to dive straight back into a project once I'm done, and I beat myself up for that for a long time, until I learned that Sarra Cannon does the same thing (Vindication tastes sweet lol)

Seriously though, I would always recommend to authors to follow this step because it DOES work best for most writers.

It doesn't for me I think, in part, because my distance from my stories takes literal years. I can remember every detail of my books, the stories never fade. I can remember the plots of stories I wrote over twenty years ago, so it's easier for me to just dive straight back in. At most, I usually give myself a week, but that's more to give myself a break and a rest, before starting work on my edits as I usually find them very mentally draining.

3) Rewrite

Ah, the bit I'm most excited to dig into, since I've never actually done a rewrite before!

Starting with a brand new blank doocument, and setting it up via a split screen on my main desktop PC (so the screen is large enough) was my plan, so I'm glad to see I was on the right track with that Lol

Adding in chapters, changing transitions, fixing magic systems, etc, all of these are what I was referring to when I said rewrites are for big, structural changes.

And I think this leans into where every writer writes differently, and every book requires a slightly different process. Rarely do I need to change things at the developmental edit level, by the time my first draft if finished.

The fact that I do this time is exactly why I'm going to move into a rewrite.

And you mention those changes is where your drafts split off from the original. I agree, I can already see where some of the pieces I need to add are potentially going to change later scenes in the story. Some of the scenes may change the relationships between characters, like a series of cause-and-effect ripples. It's going to be rather exciting to see how those ripples span out.

Take notes as you go; I do this already for the first draft, it only seems to make sense that I'd continue doing it on a rewrite. Things I spot and need to address in my editing passes that wo't change the trajectory of the story. Often these aree foreshadowing pieces I need to include for me, sometimes I'll notice I've foreshadowed something and I'll want to go back and make sure there's more than one instance for readers to pick up on, for example.

A lot of the details you mention addressing in a rewrite, such as Character Dialogue, POV imbalances, or setting details, are things I address as I'm drafting. I can't not, because if it's wrong, if it feels wrong or sounds wrong my brain stalls on them, and I grind to a complete halt.

The sheer number of times I've had to backtrack and rewrite a chapter from a different character's POV because my head just won't let me keep writing in the wrong POV is too many to count.

When it comes to researching technical details, this is also something I usually do during the outlining stage, and include in my pre-writing worldbuilding research. Again, has become a different beast for me this time because I do have a few things I need to worldbuild in that I didn't want to pause writing to figure out. The downsides to writing a large majority of the first draft during Nanowrimo, tbh.

4) Fill plot holes, reorder scenes, and add missing stuff

This is the stage of your process where you lose me. I don't make huge structural changes in this way because I plan out the shape of the story before I start writing.

This is part of my outlining process, and I don't have sections where I add [Write this scene] or [add transition] because I cannot write out of order. And if I'm going to reorder scenes, that happens during the first draft because, well, I can't write out of order.

I've said it a couple of times, but Darkling is a bit of a different beast for me. I know I need to add in a new chapter somewhere between chapters 19 and 20. This is highly unusual for me and my process, but is also why I'm doing a rewrite for the first time.

I can't just go back and add that extra chapter, it will feel really disjointed and weaving in the section into the story requires, for me, to write the story from the beginning and weave in the new strands the during the flow of the overall narrative.

5) Time travel aka chronology aka “how the fuck did they to all those things before sunset?”

Yesssssss!!! I love this! But, not a big but, BUT, I do this while drafting.

This is part of the reason I create a physical outline/timeline on a sheet of paper on the wall while writing my first draft. I stick post it notes on the wall, and on each note I give rough details of what happens in that chapter... and at the top of the post it note I put which day of the story it is, or what date it is if the story is set in the real world.

I started doing this for Changeling because the vampire school classes ran overnight, which mean every day was technically spanning 2 days, and I got myself really confused on the timeline... but I found it SO helpful that I've continued the habit.

(I'm gonna hope this is small enough/blurry enough that all the spoilers are unreadable *crosses fingers*)

6) Vibe checks

This one I want to adopt wholesale. In combination with your note about how editing each chapter in isolation (which is my current method) doesn't give you a birds eye view, because you're totally right.

I tend to have a particularly good birds eye view of my story, because I don't forget my plots, like I mentioned earlier, but doing a complete read through/pass through to focus specifically on things like character voice is something I want to adopt into my process.

Character voice is something that can be so easy to get wrong, that even though I'm confident in it, because I tend to slip into a character's headspace fairly easily, I don't think that doing a pass specifically focussed on it can ever really be a bad thing.

I have one character in Darkling who speaks in very short, clipped, sentences, and one of my notes for my self edits is to go through and check that none of his sentences extend past 15 words long, unless he's in a high-emotional state.

Things like that are, and should, require a pass all of their own, so you can focus in and pay attention to details.

7) Cuts

This is a tough one to address, because many people feel very, very strongly about cuts.

I also don't want to just gloss over it, because it's important for every writer to consider the impact their words are having on the narrative, and to learn how to differentiate between something that adds to the story you're trying to tell, and something that you just want to share with the reader.

For the latter option, I'd advise taking that stuff you just want to share because it's cool, and making bonus content, or a reader magnet for your newsletter, or whatever.

For me, personally, I'm a very wordy writer, but I'm wordy with a purpose. And what I mean by that is I can point to any single paragraph in my book and tell you at least 2 things it's doing.

Whether that's character development, character backstory, worldbuilding, foreshadowing, or actively moving the plot along, it's there for at least two reasons. I prefer to have 3 or more, but if a piece of writing only has one reason for being there I either remove it (Copy and paste it into a "Scraps" file), or I rewrite it so it's doing more heavy lifting.

This part is interesting because I don't have a specific section of my editing process dedicated to this. I kind of work on it as I go through everything else, and I mean that from the first draft through to the final editing passes before it goes off to my Editor.

If I spot a section that's not pulling it''s weight, I fix it, one way or the other.

On the other hand, I'm a wordy writer. I know this and accept this about myself, and it's also part of the reason I never contemplated traditional publishing. I wanted to be able to tell the story I wanted to tell, in the way I wanted to tell it... so as long as I can see the wrods are doing multiuple things, and aren't ONLY there for gratuitious info dumping, then I'm not too harsh with my cuts either.

8) Ctrl+F fixes (I'm switching this one from 9 to 8)

Oh bloody hell. Okay. This is an entire editing pass for me. I actually do this part per chapter. I have a list of my personal crutch words and phrases, and I check every chapter for them during my self edits.

For my biggest ones, I'll then do one more Ctrl+F at the end to see how many are LEFT across the entire document, just in case I need to thin them out even more.

9) Make It Pretty

I moved this one from 8 to 9 because it's the last stage I do before sending it to my editor. I tend to do this readthrough right before I need to send it off to my editor, maybe a week before, because by this point I've been going over every single chapter one chapter at a time.

It's probably been about 2 months since I read chapter 1 and did my self editing process on that chapter, so I just go right back to the beginning and reread through from the start.

I'm usually very happy with the manuscript at this stage, what I'm mostly looking for are places where I repeat myself, because if I find something I think needs rewriting in the editing stage, I'll hit enter and rewrite it on the next line. Sometimes I'll forget to remove the previous version of the paragraph from above it.

Apart form that, this pass is usually my fastest, and easiest.

10) Proofread

Before proofreading, it goes out to my editor, but, uh...

I don't proofread my own work. <3 I know I'm probably going to get yelled at for this one, but I don't!

By this point in the process I'm usually sick of rereading it lol, so my manuscript will come back from my editor for the line/copy edits. I'll work with her to make all the appropriate changes, and once we've finished and the file has been okay'd I move onto formatting.

Once the book's formatted, I'll then send it out to my mum and a couple of friends (who act as my informal proofreaders).

Once I've fixed anything THEY'VE caught, I send out my ARC's. Anything my ARC readers catch and message me about gets edited in my formatting program, the book files redownloaded, and the final, buyable files, then uploaded to all vendors

Again, I know this isn't the best way to do this, and one day I hope to earn enough money from my books to hire both a copy/line editor AND a proofreader, but in the meantime, I rely on my friends, family, and ARC team for those final, tweaks.

This is a purely financial decision, and if an author can afford a proofreader, I'd absolutely recommend one.

11) Send it to Someone; Make Subsequent Passes

I don't do this, because I don't have a critique partner I'd trust with my work. There's a couple of people I would trust to critique my work, but they'd all busy with their own projects.

If I was going to do this, I'd be sending it out for feeedback around stage 6 (vibe checks) before stage 7 (cuts) just because I'd like to see if they suggest cutting the same pieces I'd cut, or if their favourite parts are something I was going to cut, I might then consider leaving it in.

But all in all, I've been writing for twenty.... four? years? I wanna say twenty four. I tend towards trusting my own instincts at this point, and when they fail mum will always tell me if something's not working. Even if she can't articulate why, that usually gives me a good jumping off point to sort it out on my own.

It has recently occurred to me that to make a second draft after the first one I have to... rewrite the entire thing?? Not just, take the document and, edit ON IT, OVER it.

And that a first draft is not really supposed to be... readable?

Guys I need help,.how do you do drafts??

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batboys-batboys · 4 years ago

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I’ve recently witnessed some discourse in the fandom in which the OP called Nesta an abuser and offered thoughts on the relationship dynamic she has with her sisters vs with Emerie and Gwyn, the Valkyries she now refers to as sisters. Someone commented on said post and asked when Nesta had abused Elain. There’s inherent bias in this post as I really like Elain’s character in the books but for the purposes of this post only CANON will be referenced.

First off, let me preface this by saying I love Nesta as a character, but I don’t put her on any kind of pedestal for a multitude of reasons. Also, please let me know if you’d like for me to retag this in any particular way as this is my first serious post.

Here we go…

Chapter 17

Silver lined Elain’s eyes, but her voice remained steady, sure. “There was nothing that could have been done to save him, Nesta.”

The words were kindling. Elain had accepted his death as inevitable. She hadn’t bothered to fight for him, as if he hadn’t been worth the effort, precisely as Nesta knew she herself wasn’t worth the effort.

This time, Nesta didn’t stop the power from shining in her eyes; she shook so violently she had to fist her hands. “You tell yourself there’s nothing that could have been done because it’s unbearable to think that you could have saved him, if you’d only deigned to show up a few minutes earlier.” The lie was bitter in her mouth.

It wasn’t Elain’s fault their father had died. No, that was entirely Nesta’s own fault. But if Elain was so determined to root out the good in her, then she’d show her sister how ugly she could be. Let a fraction of this agony rip into her.

This was why Elain had chosen Feyre. This.

Feyre had rescued Elain time and again. But Nesta had sat by, armed only with her viper’s tongue. Sat by while they starved. Sat by when Hybern stole them away and shoved them into the Cauldron. Sat by when Elain had been kidnapped. And when their father had been in Hybern’s grip, she had done nothing, nothing to save him, either. Fear had frozen her, blanketing her mind, and she’d let it do so, let it master her, so that by the time her father’s neck had snapped, it had been too late. And entirely her fault.

Why wouldn’t Elain choose Feyre?

Elain stiffened, but refused to balk from whatever she beheld in Nesta’s gaze. “You think I’m to blame for his death?” Challenge filled each word. Challenge—from Elain, of all people. “No one but the King of Hybern is to blame for that.” The quaver in her voice belied her firm words.

Nesta knew she’d hit her mark. She opened her mouth, but couldn’t continue. Enough. She had said enough. That fast, the power in her receded, vanishing into smoke on the wind. Leaving only exhaustion weighing her bones, her breath. “It doesn’t matter what I think. Go back to Feyre and your little garden.”

Even during their squabbles in the cottage, fighting over who got clothes or boots or ribbons, it had never been like this. Those fights had been petty, born of misery and discomfort. This was a different beast entirely, from a place as dark as the gloom at the base of the library.

Not the blatant belittlement with that “little garden” comment. Trust me when I say I know intrusive thoughts and that this was early on in Nesta’s mental journey but still. This is her, CANONICALLY, preying on Elain’s emotions about what happened with their father and Hybern. We know that Nesta went through a lot of self-hate in this book but that whole “Let a fraction of this agony rip into her” was uncalled for. Elain went to see her sister, whom she admires and recognizes as her protector, only to get chewed out. Don’t get me wrong, I’m aware that Nesta didn’t want her there but Nesta was unable to control her emotions and consciously sought to hurt Elain with her words. (Not that she’s not hurting/hating herself too I mean just read the underlined part.)

Chapter 21 (sidenote: this chapter needs to be talked more about in the fandom)

Post Nesta refusing to let Elain find the Trove and the “Shall I tend to my little garden forever?” moment. (iconic btw)

Nesta’s pulse pounded throughout her body. “Do you not remember the war? What we encountered? Do you not remember the Cauldron kidnapping you, bringing you into the heart of Hybern’s camp?”

“I do,” Elain said coldly. “And I remember Feyre rescuing me.”

For a heartbeat, it appeared that Elain might say something to soften the words. But Nesta cut her off, seething at the pity about to be thrown her way. “Look who decided to grow claws after all,” she crooned. “Maybe you’ll become interesting at last, Elain.”

Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain’s face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike.

Elain’s eyes brightened with pain. Something imploded in Nesta’s chest at that expression. She opened her mouth, as if it could somehow be undone. But Elain said, “I went into the Cauldron, too you know. And it captured me. And yet somehow all you can think of is what mytrauma did to you.”

Aside from the obvious iconic nature of this whole exchange here we see Nesta yet again hurt and belittle Elain. And yeah, sure, Elain tried to hurt Nesta too here by throwing in that reminder that it was Feyre (and Az) who went into Hybern’s camp and rescued her. But as soon as she did it she went into an apology mode but was cut off as her sister couldn’t stand someone feeling sad for her and needed to remind Elain that she’s a bad person who hurts others. The “interesting at last” comment was a (pardon my French) bitch move. There, I said it.

Nesta knew just which words to use to beat down her younger sister who’d always looked up to her, and she didn’t hesitate to use them. She knew which words would hurt her and she said them. Elain shot back here though and reminded Nesta that her trauma with being captured by the Cauldron is her own and no one can shoulder that for her. And that despite this trauma, she’s willing to risk herself to find the Trove and face the magic that took her choices away.

Anyways, I just wanted to shed some light on some scenes that I think a lot of readers and participants of the acotar tumblr fandom glossed over. These were, coincidentally, 2 of the few times Elain showed up in ACOSF. I mean, given the fandom’s warring views on Elain as a character it’s not shocking people would gloss over her and Nesta’s interactions (even though she who knows more about Nesta than anyone else).

I guess I’ll close this by saying that Nesta is not a perfect character. And, admittedly, these scenes did happen in the first half of the book. However, just because Nesta battled her mental health and overcame a lot of challenges, it doesn’t erase the fact that she hurt Elain with her words. She preyed on her younger sister’s love for her and (to my recollection) did not apologize for the way she treated her. Nesta’s an interesting character and so is Elain. Elain is a huge part of the acotar story/world, whether you like it or not.

#acosf #elain archeron #nesta archeron #i love her but this needed to be addressed #not sure if its anti but just in case like I'm only talking about things she's said that were not good #lmk what yall think

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amonrawya · 4 years ago

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The Greatest Gift of All

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(Inspired by^ for the people who asked :D hope it was worth the wait!)

Long before the war, before Captain America or the Winter Soldier, there was simply Bucky and Steve. At least, that's what history says. But they missed out one very important person, a girl called Y/N.

Women in those times often found themselves with little opportunity, and only two easily attainable pathways in life: wife and mother. But Y/N carved out a life for herself that defied all expectations, and it all started in Brooklyn.

She dived headlong into scuffles, usually next to Bucky in defence of Steve. Regardless of the opponent, Y/N stood by them both, and often held her own quite impressively.

Her dress style borrowed from more masculine cuts, and Y/N was never seen without her cap. A lot of people had a problem with this, but she shut them up fairly swiftly.

Everything about this girl drew Bucky in, a battle he fought with little effort. They reveled in each other, flaunting their love at every opportunity. More than a few were jealous that the rough and tumble girl got the best looking boy in town.

In a way, before even coming of age, they started an adult life together. The three of them moved into a flat. Y/N and Bucky took hard labour jobs, or anything they could get. They had little room to be picky.

Both managed to hook steady summer jobs at the local docks. They used most of their money to keep a roof over their heads, buy food, and pay for Steve's medical needs. He attended art school, and sold his work every now and then; but physically, he was in no condition to work.

The war appeared on the horizon, just as they started to pull themselves an inch above the poverty line. Y/N saw it coming, the inevitable. She treasured every second they spent together, and dreaded the day when the draft came.

A lot of the older women she worked with were disrespectful, looking down on her pre-marital relationship with Bucky. They claimed she couldn't possibly understand their grief, despite the fact Y/N had seen Bucky off at the docks that very morning.

In truth, they already planned on being married, but at the time, they simply didn't have the funds. Bucky promised, once the war ended, that ring would be on her finger.

Except, he never came home. Not properly. The person Hydra gave back to Y/N was damaged and jaded, angry at the world, angrier than she ever saw. But still, they loved each other. Though she never forgave them for stealing away his innocence, for trying to snuff out the light in his soul. A part of him would always belong to them, and she hated it.

Refusing to stay home while they risked their lives, never knowing, Y/N trained as an army nurse, working specially with the Howling Commandos unit.

Then one day, she went out to welcome them back from a mission. Every face looked devastated, but none more so than Steve. His eyes, red-raw and streaming, seemed incapable of rising from the ground. At first, the realisation didn't process, the idea simply incomprehensible. He promised.

Dugan was the one to finally break through and catch Y/N as she fell, holding her as the tears poured. Once he shook off his daze, Steve took his place, sharing in her grief.

Her world fell apart so quickly, with no warning and no mercy. Their commanders celebrated the capture of Arnim Zola, while Y/N and Steve sat, staring at an empty place at their side.

Everyone mourned Bucky, and swiftly after, began to mourn Y/N, too. The loss took a part of her...the sparkle, the happiness, the laugh that lit up her face. It all vanished. She worked hard, looked after them all, but only Steve was able to make her smile. Even then, it looked pained.

So when Steve went down with the plane, the very last shred of Y/N died with him. No tears left her eyes, no screams ripped up her throat. A cold numbness took over, freezing the woman from the inside out.

V-Day came and went. The Commandos stood and drank to their lost comrades, and Dugan silently drank another...for the loss of a bright, fiery girl who had virtually nothing to lose, and still lost everything.

She spent her days as a robot, doing nothing but going through the motions of badly imitating life. The flat was empty and quiet, yet somehow, bursting with the ghosts of her loved ones. Nightmares plagued her, terrible images of Bucky's body, forever trapped in a freezing hell, nothing but food for the birds. And Steve, his body...was it cast adrift in the ocean? Or destroyed, burnt to ash in the belly of a metal beast.

They were simple folk before the war turned them into soldiers, into weapons. Before symbols and flags stole away their names, driving them to sacrifice their lives for a greater cause.

Y/N knew their fight against Hydra was important...knew the honour behind their sacrifice. But when it's you left sitting at an empty dinner table, it's much easier to be angry and bitter.

She never married, never settled, bouncing around countries working as an army nurse. The Commandos slowly died around her, each one fading to grey as the curtain drew the show to a close. Each death, each funeral ripped open her wounds, bigger and deeper each time. Until eventually, Y/N let the blood flow freely.

Or at least, that's what would have happened. But one choice, one decision, made by a boy she thought dead in the far future, changed it all.

Bucky Barnes struggled to find himself again. His memories were mostly all returned, if a bit hazy and fragmented. He had Steve there to right any wrong recollections, and connect with on their shared experiences. But something always seemed to be missing, a piece of the jigsaw that hadn't been found.

He remembered Y/N. He remembered her clearer than anything. She was glowing like honey in the sun when Bucky closed his eyes and brought her back to mind.

Face covered in muck, hair tousled and streaked with grease from the boats, soot on the very tip of her nose and a cap perched jauntily on her head; wearing the deepest expression of concentration as she aimed a hanful of rotten fish guts at the sleezy Connell boy from Fifth, who decided his opinion on her backside mattered. The image shone crystal clear. Her laughter, rolling out from between curved lips, beautiful and full of mischief.

It never failed to make him smile. Or cry. Or sometimes, both. He missed Y/N than he thought possible for a human being.

Bucky often wondered about her life, whether she went on to marry, or maybe even have children. Was she happy? Did she bury him and move on? If they met today, would Y/N even recognise the man he was now?

More importantly, in his mind, something he both feared and longed to know: would she still love him?

Unbeknownst to Bucky, Steve saw all this. Understood, to a degree, his pain. But he and Peggy never got the chance to bond so strongly. He knew Bucky needed him, but Steve also knew he needed Y/N more.

So once his goodbyes were said, he looked one last time at Bucky, and smiled beneath his suit as he vanished into time.

The living room looked exactly the same as he remembered. Bucky's coat, slung over the back of the chair, his sketchbooks strewn around the desk. Every rip and chip. His heart swelled with nostalgia, and pain, thinking of the life they were supposed to have.

What must have been in their heads...running off to fight, so eager to throw everything away. And who was left to stare at empty beds and eat breakfast alone every morning? Y/N.

His chest constricted, hearing the keys in the door, the lock rattling three times before letting her in. His nerve faltered for the briefest second, wondering if he was ready to see her again.

"Who the hell are you?!"

Time's up.

Slowly, he turned, and watched as Y/N's eyes widened, all the bags in her hands falling to the floor with a crash.

"...Stevie?" The name came out as a whisper, nearly inaudible.

He grinned, laughing as tears stung his eyes. "Hey, spitfire. Long time no see."

"Steve!" She launched herself at him, arms wrapping around his neck and clinging on for dear life.

Catching her by the waist, he swung Y/N around, burying his face in her hair. They held onto one another as if they might vanish if they let go. But after a minute, Steve gently pushed her back.

"How? How are you here? What are you wearing? I don't understand, Steve, they said you died! Your plane went down in the ocean," she stammered, hand on his forearm with a grip like a vice.

"I survived. The serum kept me alive in the ice for seventy years," he said, questioning his own sanity momentarily; standing in the flat again made everything that happened seem like a distant dream.

Y/N frowned, brows knitting together. "What? Did you hit your head? Steve, this is 1945."

"I know, I came from 2023. I'm alive," he said, and saw her mentally backing away, so added, "I'm alive, and so is Bucky."

Her head snapped up, eyes immediately filling with tears. A dozen emotions whizzed through them in a second; disbelief, pain, hope. It shone clearly in her face as she stepped closer.

What did you say?" She asked, voice choked as she brought her shaking hands up to her mouth.

"Bucky's alive," he repeated softly, "and I can send you to him, in the future. But we don't have a lot of time. You need to listen to me, carefully, and do what I say."

She spluttered, struggling for words. "I, but...what about you?"

"I've made my decision," Steve said, and gently took her hands in his, "now, please, listen."

Bucky watched the machine, feeling a wave of numbness wash over his insides. Nothing was a better deal than the pain, the cruel sting of betrayal fighting to be felt. But he beat it back, unable to allow those thoughts validation.

Steve gave up so much for him, he fought for years to get him here. Steve deserved this. And no matter how wrong those words sounded in his head, he resolutely stood by them.

The seconds ticked by, noted by Bruce's countdown. A flash of guilt almost made Bucky explain what was going to happen, explain that Steve left them. Left him. But he possessed no energy to speak, they'd see in a second, when no one appeared-

Zap. A blinding flash of light.

There's someone there.

Bucky frowned, hands falling from his pockets. Did Steve change his mind? Did he...

All the thoughts in his head stopped as the figure stepped down. Too small, too lithe for it to be Steve. Bucky's heart rate quickened, something in his unconscious already registering his recognition.

The suit fell away, and if he weren't frozen in place, Bucky wouldn't have been standing. A quiver shot through him, nearly buckling his knees. Shock, fear and pure disbelief all delayed his reaction.

Y/N looked around, amazed, but turned to stone as she set eyes on him. Her face went utterly blank, a strangled sound leaving her lips.

Wearing her yard slacks, with a small bag on her shoulder, her face covered in dirt, hair streaked with grease, cap perched on-top, slanted to one side...she was everything he remembered, and his heart tried to leave his chest to go to her. To be whole again.

But fear held him back. She didn't know the things he'd done, the person he became after the train accident. What if-

"Who is she?" Sam asked, glaring as he stalked towards her, an accusation rising on his lips.

Bucky answered without hesitation, or thinking; the question had been asked countless times over the years. It always recieved the same reply. "My doll."

Sam stopped short, glancing between them, the way neither took their eyes off the other. He nodded, brows still closely knit, and backed off.

Slowly, Y/N approached, encouraged by the sound of his voice. She reached out carefully, when she got close enough. Trembling fingers brushed his cheek, and a shudder ran through her.

"My Bucky..." She said quietly, eyes roaming over his face, a small smile tugging at her lips, "...you're here, in front of me. Alive."

He swallowed dryly, heart thundering away beneath his skin. "I'm different...you don't know..."

No sooner had the words left his mouth that her eyes found the cold metal where his flesh used to be. In reaching to hold it, she'd been taken by surprise.

Gently, Y/N took the hand in her own, examing the limb with a careful gaze. Moments passed, and she met his eyes again. Bucky steeled himself for rejection, for the disgust and horror.

Her hand went back to his cheek, and he involuntairly leaned into it. The warmth seeped into his blood. She stood on her tip toes, the smile on her lips blossoming into a bright beam of sunlight. "You've always been my Bucky, and always will be. Metal appendages and all."

He fell apart and dove down to capture her lips, clutching her to him with the hunger of a starving man. She pulled herself in, hands tangling in his brown locks, and both tasted salt on the others' lips.

So filled with joy his heart could burst, Bucky revelled in the feeling of holding his girl again. Laughing through the tears, he buried his face in her neck.

Thank you, Steve, for the greatest gift of all.

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akistans · 4 years ago

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✰yandere txt.

Authors note: i kinda like the whole Yandere txt archetype, so I apologize in advance to anyone who stumbles across this and gets uncomfortable so ill tag it right.

Warnings: Language, yandere themes(click on yandere if u dont know what it means), obsessive/possessive behavior, violence, physical/mental abuse, crazy ass bois, sexual themes on the choi line.

And also another thing, this doesn’t represent txt in any way and is pure fiction from my crazy mind🤠

I also don’t support abusive relationships, please seek help if you or a loved one are in that situation.

✰Choi Yeonjun.

The beauty is the beast.

Yeonjun likes pretty things.

And you happen to be the prettiest thing he’s ever layed eyes on. So it didn’t take long for him to become entranced. You never met him personally but you know he’s the university heartthrob, so it was a surprise when he asked you out on a date out of the blue. You said yes because “what could go wrong?”

He was so nice, sweet and caring, you honestly were falling for him...until he insisted you come back to his house. That’s where you drew the line, you assumed that this date was a ploy to get in your pants so you wanted to end the conversation and became easily annoyed.

But What you didn’t know though was that was the last day you would ever see the world. Yeonjun was a step ahead of you and kidnapped you. No matter how much you tried getting out of his grip, he was too strong.

“Heh, all you had to do was say yes and this wouldn’t have happened. Y/n i thought you were going to be a good girl for me, but i guess your just a brat who needs their master to discipline them, hm?”

Say goodbye to ur humanity✌️

✰Choi Soobin.

When curiosity becomes obsession

Soobin had always been bullied in school and you were the only one to show him any type of compassion. Although you were very popular in school, you never resorted to bullying or harassing others like your friends.

Soobin grew curious about you, his curiosity soon became obession. You started noticing a strange aura around you, as if you were being watched.You would hear the snap of camera from time to time. And when you turned around to see whos there, no one would be present.

You started to notice this at home, you feared undressing and taking showers until your mother got angry at you. You closed every window and curtain in your house and yet you still could feel those chilling eyes on you. Not to mention, some of your underwear had gone missing. Eventually, you stopped leaving home all together, which to your dismay, still felt strange.

You were becoming paranoid, and others saw this as well. Your family looked ks at you as a freak, your once friends bully you, and no one even looks your way. Except for one person. It took some courage, but Soobin finally decided to ask you out. And when you said yes he was surprised, you were so broken you didn’t care.

“R-really? Y/n i love you so much...” he pulls you in for a hug. “I promise i’m not like everyone else, i’ll love you no matter what. All we need is each other, my sweet Y/n.” That was the day when the stalking stopped, and when you gave your life to the hand of Choi soobin.

✰Huening Kai.

Innocent eyes masks a playful sadist.

Kai being the new transfer student really had everyone whipped for him. Many admired him, many hated him, Some wanted to be him. But you, you just didn’t care. He was cute, sure, but you were focused on your studies, besides he was too young for you anyways.

Kai felt intrigued, he’d never met somene like you who could resist his charms. That was the first. So he decided to play a game, he befriended you, and gained your trust, which you blindly gave away. He was so innocent that you couldn’t just be flat out rude to him.

He decided to take his game to the next level by asking you out on a date, but you rejected him...not part of the plan. He cornered you in the hallway, no more innocent ningning for you.

“You think you can just reject me like that? Baby, people want to be with me, not the other way around. You’re so cute when your trembling, are you scared? Good, now be a good girl and hold hands with your boyfriend.”

✰Choi Beomgyu.

Hide your true feelings.

Beomgyu absolutely hated you, he hated that you made him feel this way. So he bullied you, tore down every wall you had. He liked you better in this state, submissive and at his mercy. With a snap of his fingers you would come running to his side like a puppy.

He made sure to humiliate you so no one would look your way, he’d sit you on his lap or use you as a footrest. And if anyone did, then kyu would beat them up and make you watch. He had no remorse for you whatsoever, and there was no one who could help you, not even your family. And if you ever back talked then expect the same punishment, a punch to the face.

But one day you had enough, Kyu had slapped you infront of everyone and you couldn’t help but cry on the floor. Your sobs could be heard from the whole entire cafeteria. For once, he actually felt bad for you. He picked you up bridal style and carried you outside, though this was the rarest sight you ever seen, i hope you didn’t expect him to show you that side.

“Tsk. Could you be any more pathetic? Stupid people like you are always so dependent, you can’t even function right. But don’t worry baby, I’ll make sure your in good hands.”

✰Kang Taehyun.

My one and only.

You two have been crushing hella hard on each other for a while, so when he asked you out, you had to blink twice just in case you were dreaming. Your crush, Kang Taehyun asked you?

At first, the relationship was fine, Taehyun was a very loving boyfriend, and he was so nice to you, he would always bring you flowers and other gifts, he was always so protective over you, perhaps too protective.

You were just chatting with a male friend, and he up and punched the huy to the ground and kept beating on him. You tried your best to pull him off of your bloodied friend. But he wouldn’t let off. You were sobbing Taehyuns name for him to let your friend go.

“See what you did jackass? Not only are you dirtying my hand but you’re also making my girl cry! What filth! Don’t worry Y/n! No one like this will ever bother you again!” And with those words, you were never seen again.

✰authors note: So yeah, this is like my second time writing yandere type stuff, so let me know how you guys like it.

#yandere txt #yandere kpop #kpop #txt #txt scenarios

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problematic-faves-appreciation · 4 years ago

Text

Problematic Faves Cliffs Notes: Harvey Dent/Two-Face

Batman (1980) #329

Summary: Once a crusading district attorney that worked alongside Batman and Jim Gordon to fight crime – now the duality-obsessed super criminal known as Two-Face.

Harvey Dent also serves as a dark reflection of Batman's own struggles living a dual life with conflicting identities.

Main Goal: To enact his own justice whilst committing crimes.

Fears: Uncertainty, himself in general [the things he's capable of, specifically], losing control, his loved ones dying, his darker half discovering Bruce's secret identity [Detective Comics (2016) #1021], Renee Montoya's rejection [Batman: No Man's Land, novel], and the Joker [Joker (2008), only].

Mindset: Sees himself bound by fate and its will. As a result of Harvey's black-and-white worldviews, he considers his two-headed (scarred on one side) silver dollar a truly objective instrument of justice due to it only yielding two simple, 50/50 outcomes at the end of every coin toss.

"Some people go to the beach to forget their problems. They can watch the waves for hours. I understand the fascination.

There's a pattern – then there is no pattern.

It's the same with the coin. We want it all to mean something – we want to find the pattern – but in the final analysis, it's just waves."

— Harvey Dent, Secret Origins Special (1989) #1

•••

"He was always interested in the law – some might say obsessed. Man's law gave order to Harvey's world – they delineated the parameters of right and wrong, good and evil. They gave him something to believe in."

— Gilda Dent, Secret Origins Special (1989) #1

•••

Hugo Strange: Let's go back further, you were a rising star, a beacon of light for this city. A white knight riding in to save it with the Dark Knight not far behind.

Harvey Dent: You can leave him out of this. He is wrong. They all are. No one understands the beauty of fate's hand. I am grateful to Falcone. He gave me a clarity; a purity that few will know. Everything boils down to a simple choice, this way or that way, good... or bad.

Hugo Strange: Do you really believe that?

Harvey Dent: How could I not?

— Batman: Arkham City

•••

Batman: If you pull the trigger, how are you different from the Roman?

Harvey Dent: That's Jim Gordon talking. You know the system doesn't work. That justice can be decided like the flip of a coin.

— The Long Halloween

•••

"You thought we could be decent men in an indecent time... but you were wrong! The world is cruel. And the only morality in a cruel world is chance. Unbiased, unprejudiced, fair."

— Harvey Dent, The Dark Knight

•••

"Life's a lottery, Holman. It's chance that decides who lives and who dies. Who gets cancer. Which kid is born with spina bifida. Who gets run over by a truck.

This [the coin] is what decides whether or not I blow your wife's brains out."

— Harvey Dent, Joker's Asylum: Two-Face #1

Teen Titans Spotlight (1987) #13

Character Traits:

🌗 Loving • Idealistic • Genuine • Principled • Resolute • Focused • Driven • Workaholic • Passionate • Eloquent • Wrathful • Obssessed • Brooding • Self-loathing • Black-and-white thinking • Dauntless • Fair • Honest (generally) • Man of his word • Learned helplessness (regarding the coin and his choices) • Self-destructive • Unpredictable • Hair-trigger temper • Can be persuaded • Charitable (depends on coin toss) • Takes his pain out on others • Self-enabling • Serious • Harsh • Intimidating • Vengeful • Physically violent • Self-aware • Conflicted • Feels remorse • Tries, but fails to improve as a person • Too Dependent on his coin • Fatalistic • Suicidal • Forgiving • Self-centered, but not selfish 🌗

Key Facts:

Harvey Dent...

• Had mental health issues long before his disfigurement [Batman Annual (1990 #14, Batman: The Animated Series - Episode 10, and Batman: Arkham City].

• His father physically abused him every day as a child. Christopher Dent used a double-headed coin to make Harvey believe he could "avoid" the beatings if the coin landed on the non-existent "tails" [Batman Annual #14].

• Bruce Wayne was his childhood friend [Rebirth universe & Batman: Nightwalker].

• Harvey "Legal Eagle" Dent was the top of his class [Secret Origins Special (1989) #1].

• Paid for his father's nice apartment [Batman: Two-Face (1995) - Crime & Punishment].

• Half of Harvey wanted to love his father, while the other half wished him dead. Despite everything, he tried to make peace with Christopher prior to the acid attack [Batman Annual #14].

• Never stopped loving/thinking about Gilda Dent when she disappeared from his life following the events of the Long Halloween [Batman (2006) #653 & Batman (2011) #712].

What's more, Harvey continued loving Gilda so much that he wound up murdering her second husband's killer in a pre-Long-Halloween continuity [Batman (1980) #329] because the man's death left Gilda grieving.

• Fun fact: The Power of Love helped him resist Poison Ivy's pheromones in the Dark Victory #11!

Begone, thot!

• Blamed Batman for what happened to him with Salvatore Maroni Carmine Falcone and the acid attack that scarred his face [Batman: Arkham Knight].

• Uses his coin to determine whether he should kill or spare his victims. Also, he has been known to perform acts of charity [Detective Comics (1942) #66 & Batman: The Silver Age Newspaper Comics Volume 3 (1969-1972)] sometimes.

• Loves and hates Gotham [Batman and Robin (2013) #23.1].

• Dislikes hypocrites [Batman: Two-Face (1995) - Crime and Punishment & The Spectre (2001) #5].

• Developed strong feelings for Renee Montoya in the Batman: No Man's Land storyline.

• Continued caring about Renee deeply, despite the events of Gotham Central (2003) #10 [Convergence: The Question #1-2].

Received training from Batman [Batman #653] and Deathstroke [Deathstroke (2018) #38].

• Has tried growing better as a person, but he keeps failing [Batman Annual #14 & Batman and Robin Adventures (1995) #1-2].

• Has re-scarred himself more than once [Batman Annual #14, Batman #653, and Batman: Black and White (1996) #1].

• For all his faults and crimes – such as nearly beating Dick Grayson to death in Robin: Year One – he has helped people [The Batman Chronicles (1999) #16], defended Jim Gordon from himself as Jim's defense lawyer [Detective Comics (1999) #739], cares about the women in his life, and keeps his word when the coin comes up good.

He is a complex character, period.

Other Facts:

• Has seen Cocteau's "Beauty and the Beast" [Batman (1986) #397].

• Knows how to sculpt [Detective Comics (1986) #563].

• Owns a "thememobile" like Batman [Batman (1987) #410]!

• Likes baseball [Batman (1987) #411].

• Likes symmetry [Batman (1989) #442].

Smokes, but also doesn't [Batman (1994) #513].

"My own version of the literary reference mark known as a diesis – more commonly known as a double-dagger! My next pair shall strike to the heart of the matter!" — Harvey Dent, Batman: Two-Face Strikes Twice #1 – the words of a man who certainly reads a lot!

Batman Annual #14 & Teen Titans Spotlight #13 – A himbo he is not!

• Reads classic books such as "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" [Detective Comics #66] and "A Tale of Two Cities" [Batman: Two-Face Strikes Twice #2].

• Still finds putting criminals behind bars fun [Batman Gotham Adventures (1999) #12].

• Can speak Spanish [The Batman Chronicles #16].

• Doesn't mind hitting women at all. There are so many examples of this; Harvey confirmed it himself [Batman: Streets of Gotham (2009) #7], and beat up Jim Gordon's wife in Batman (1999) #572.

• Made a self-insert comic book in an art therapy program. Yup, he wrote and drew it himself [Detective Comics (2001) #753]!

Called it "The Adventures of Copernicus Dent and His Best Girl and Plucky Assistant R'Nee!"

• Plays chess with Batman [Gotham Knights (2002) #32].

• Has watched Star Trek [Nightwing (2008) #150].

• Fought and killed a werewolf [The 2008 DC Universe Halloween Special]. Yes, really.

• Was a cult leader [Detective Comics (2020) #1020].

• Rebirth!Harvey is now working as a jailhouse lawyer in Blackgate [Detective Comics (2020) #1024].

• Understands how binary code works, but computer geeks make him sick? [Robin (1994) #11] Yeah.

• Has kids. Twins! [Batman: Two-Faces Strikes Twice]. It looks like they're irrelevant.

• Remembered Renee's birthday and sent her tulips [Detective Comics (2000) #747].

• Has been a judge before [The New Batman Adventures - Episode 24 & Arkham Unhinged (2013) #11].

• Hates odd-numbers [Robin: Year One #2].

#batman #harvey dent #two face #gilda dent #dc comics #my posts #problematic faves cliff notes

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yandere-wishes · 5 years ago

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🖤💔Yandere!Demon Slayers As Demons💔🖤

Dear readers for the first time in two weeks I offer you something that isn't a random post or a rant. This is an AU that I’ve been working on for a while, and seeing how this turns out I might continue it in terms of one shots and a mini series. Please enjoy!!

👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺

Demon Tanjiro is much more complex than his human counterpart. His mood fluctuates too much, alternating between a loving docile young demon desperate for his lover's warm embrace, to a rabid beast who's willing to tear your stomach open with his claws and feast on your entrails while you're still breathing. He's just too unpredictable, what makes him praise you and litter your body with toothy kisses, might just get your arm dislocated the next day. There's just no telling, he just isn't Tanjiro anymore, he's some wild, savage, murderous monster wearing Tanjiro's face.

He's always watching...

His mere gaze isn't enough to turn you into a motionless rag doll. Slumped in the corner like a forgotten toy. No, but his silence is. The way his eyes are locked on you as if your some sort of little bunny that waltzed into his territory, the way his mouth is sewn shut by some invisible thread, the way his head is tilted to the side like he was trying to calculate your next move...it's all too tranquil, too clam, just like the eye of a hurricane.

Languidly Tanjiro begins to crouch down, his moves are rapid and glitchy as if he isn't in control of his own body. Somewhere you hear something cracking, it's a dreadful noise like hammers pounding at your skull. It's only when you lift your eyes to the Oni in front of you, do you realize the noise is coming from him. It's like he's deforming in some way, dying and regenerating all in a single breath...and yet he still looks so...so beautiful.

Even while he's stalking towards you on hands and knees, you can't deny how stunning he looks. Mouth molded into a small smile, long rust-colored locks pooling on the ground around him and his eyes... they're red one second and brown the next, changing ever so quickly just like his moods.

He's much more passive like this, you note as if you've made some sort of groundbreaking discovery. So docile and calm...almost like a storm before it strikes. No, Tanjiro is not a storm you remind your self. He's a lion stalking its prey, relishing in the taunting silence it radiates by its mere presence.

Tanjiro's eyes have lost all hope, all passion. They're nothing more than empty spheres resting in his sockets.

You vaguely remember -or at least you think you do- a time when every action coming from the rust haired boy was entangled in a blanket of passion, every move had a clear purpose, every word was laced with an unyielding fire that had been beaten into his spirit. But now....well you didn't know what he was now, what Mozen and his sadistic "creations" had turned him into. What had they stolen from him? Was it his soul, his hope, or maybe something far worst.

Your amazement only shatters when you notice just how close he's gotten. His icy cold breath tickling the side of your neck. You squirm, pressing your palms flat against his chest. Tangiro doesn't flinch, his head cocks back to the side, his broken stare, vaguely reminds you of a discarded doll. Maybe that's what he is, not a slayer or a demon, just some broken doll that keeps you locked up in his room so that he can get a sense of being needed.

A wave of empathy crashed over you. Wearily you dropped your arms to your side, in a flash Tangiro wraps his long gauntly arms around you, squashing your bones as he pulled you ever so closer to him, nuzzling his visage in the crock of your neck.

Tanjiro Kamado may have once been a remarkable demon slayer on his way to becoming the next water piller of the demon slayer corps...but now he was nothing more than a pitiful broken demon, seeking the feeling of humanity inside a breaking, mortified girl.

👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹

Zenitsu is a lot bolder, a lot pushier with his affection now that he's been turned into a demon. He wants you to love him the way he loves you, only this time he isn't afraid to break a leg or two, so you'll have no choice but to stay with him.

His child-like tendencies are still there, albeit demented, yet ever-present. The tantrums and endless crying are as frequent as ever...except now, well now he breaks a bone for every tear YOU make him spill and leaves a scar for every time YOU couldn't satisfy him. Just remember that none of this is poor Zenitsu's fault, oh no, how could it be his fault? He's given you everything you could ever dream of! Even though you're nothing more than a pathetic useless human, Zenitsu still took you as his beloved wife! You should be grateful to him, dedicate your every living second to him, play the role of the loving, caring wife! Not some ungrateful brat, who is always trying to run away!

And yet, you've become oddly accustomed to it. No longer do you mind the screams and beatings. They've grown to be a part of you, a sick and twisted thing that resides within you, infecting your every thought. Much like how Zenitsu's become a heartsick, defective shell of his former self.

"STOP IT"

something shattered against the wall, breaking into a million flying shards. The noise echoed through the light less room. Weary, your eyes flashed from the broken remains of what may have been an antique vase, to the crying monster in front of you. The tips of his long curved horns were turning a stark blood red, an indication that his blood was starting to boil. Although you didn't need the mood indicating head tusks to know just how upset the blond crybaby had gotten, they were still a nice little warning to remind you of just how far you could push him.

"Stop trying to escape!"

Had his voice amplified since your last "screaming contest"?

Did Muzen really think that Zenitsu's voice needed to get any louder, anymore irritating?

"I wasn't" you deadpanned, your arms crossed in front of your chest. "How can I, did you forget what you did to my leg this morning?" the bones inside your left leg had been deformed, causing your entire leg to point sideways. It was a detestable sight, yet it seemed to fill your rotting heart with a sense akin to a school girl's crush.

'Zenitsu-chan still loves me! See, see, he went out of his way to touch me!'

'No you idiot, he went out of his way to hurt you.'

Your mind had seemingly been slashed in half since your arrival at the former demon slayer's hideout. One tiny voice acted like a deranged lovesick little girl. Whist the other pertained some form of logic and common sense. This typically led to many interior arguments, all bordering on the exact same premise.

HE LOVES ME

HE'S HURTING ME

HE LOVES ME

HE'S HURTING ME

HE LOVES ME

HE'S HURTING ME

HE LOVES ME

HE'S HURTING ME

HE LOVES ME

HE'S HURTING ME

HE LOVES ME

HE'S HURTING ME

"Quit your whining!" the voice that escaped your lips, was flat and commanding, for a second it vaguely reminded you of Giyu Tomioka before the memory of your former lover shattered. Zenitsu's crying continued but his angry shouts slowly died down, his golden eyes shifted to stare directly at you. wearily you lifted your hands towards him, like an infant begging to be picked up.

"I'm hungry Zenitsu! Take me into the kitchen, after all, it's your fault I'm like this!"

Sure Zenitsu was much more powerful than you, sure he could snap your neck, ending your pitiful life at any moment. But his desperate need for approval -something else that had transcended from his human life to his current one- gave you the upper hand in this muddle of a relationship.

As a demon Inosuke is more...feral, for lack of a better word. He is all so keen on seeing just how far he can push his darlings limits, both mentally or physically.

He's always hovering around you, trailing his clawed fingers over patches of exposed skin. Smirking all so curly as you shiver and shrink back. His knife-like fangs seen to be permanently impaling your neck. Draining you of your life force. He's just so damn heartless!

🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️

Although he may be a ruthless monster, a creature of the night that fed on the innocent, there was no denying that Inosuke was resourceful, resourceful, and strong. He knew just where to hide you, so you would neither be found nor have a chance to escape. There was also the way he routinely cracked your fibula and tibia as a “preprecaution”.

Your arm wasn't meant to bend that way, neither was your leg when you thought about it. Yet despite the odd angle there had yet to be any cracking or popping to indicate the limp had been, once again, broken. The only real evidence to suggest that the limps were in fact being abused was the white scorching pain coursing through them. A feeling that you had almost grown entirely familiar with.

Inosuke's green eyes shifted lazily between your scrunched up face and the twisting limps. One of his "normal" arms was occupied mangling your left arm, the other two appendages that sprouted from his back were pulling your leg upwards at the knee joint. Inosuke's head leaned over his remaining arm, he looked bored, like your pain was so mundane that it couldn't even grant him a mere chuckle.

"I like it better when you scream" his voice was laced with a demanding malice, something bitter and rotting. "It's boring when you try to act all strong and mighty".

You weren't acting, acting required skills, and an audience who wanted to believe in the performer. No, your lack of response wasn't a show of strength or iron will, it was merely because your vocal cords had been shrieked raw, preventing them from making a single peep.

Your tear-filled eyes shot up to stare into his depraved orbs. Had there ever been a time when his eyes didn't strike fear into those who peered into them? You highly doubted it, heck the idea of Inosuke ever being anything less than terrifying was a laughable thought.

An eerie familiar noise filled the room, the cracking noise happened in three instances, like three swipes of a blade. First, it was your talus followed by your patella, and then to finish the spin chilling symphony was the crescendo of your breaking humerus for the hundredth time.

Tears began to flow rapidly from your eyes, staining your thin layer of clothes. You could feel Inosuke's presence shifting about, leaning ever so closer to nuzzle into the side of your neck. His teeth grazing the already punctured skin.

Inosuke use to be a demon slayer right? A passionate young man who wanted nothing more than to destroy the very same monsters that he himself became? What a laughable story, a fictional tale if ever you'd heard one!

This man was and would always be nothing more than a cruel demon!

#demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer x you #yandere demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x you #yandere kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba tanjiro kamado #kimetsu no yaiba tanjiro kamado x reader #kimetsu no yaiba tanjiro kamado x you #tanjiro kamado x reader #tanjiro kamado x you #yandere tanjiro kamado #yandere tanjiro kamado x reader #yandere tanjiro kamado x you #demon slayer tanjiro kamado #demon slayer tanjiro kamado x reader #demon slayer tanjiro kamado x you #demon slayer zenitsu agatsuma #demon slayer zenitsu agatsuma x reader #demon slayer zenitsu agatsuma x you #zenitsu agatsuma #zenitsu agatsuma x reader #zenitsu agatsuma x you #yandere zenitsu agatsuma #yandere zenitsu agatsuma x reader #yandere zenitsu agatsuma x you #demon slayer inosuke hashibira #demon slayer inosuke hashibira x reader

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zuffer-weird-girl · 4 years ago

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The Asylum

Synopsis: The U.A was a known Asylum. Known of being the current house for the most dangerous persons with the most tragocs backstorys and trauma. An universe where quirls dont exist, but heroes take the places of doctors, students are trainers and of course; villains are the pacients.

I am planning to do for all the boys I write and Shigaraki version of it (surprise shiggy stans!) Let me know if you would be interested.

Kai Chisaki:

You are currently a new doctor that the Asylum recide to take under their wing. Obviously not to good intentions. Since there is a pacient no one seems to even dare to croos his dorm room... so will you be able to tame the beast?

The limo you were in along with Nezu and the famous doctor Toshinori Yagi along with his aprendice Izuku Midoriya was sorta of glamorous... too much to your own point of view. But how could you point that out? Espevially to the ones whose kindly offered a job as soon as you got your graduation.

You were viewed as the "too kind and sensitive" to be a doctor or a psychologist, yet you still remained your ground and got your degree! And was now facing the kind hearted doctor Toshinoru himself! He was the most respected and talented doctora of all Japan, who just couldn't admire him?

The car came to an stop and Nezu gaze a hearted chickle after finsihing his cup of tea, which didn't even dropped a drop of the drink, before smilling at you as Toshinori and Midoriya helped you out.

"You two are too kind!" You spoke as the boy blushed crinsom red and laughed nervously as Nezu caught your attention.

"(L/n)-san, uou must know that despite us having the best of security measures, evil persons live on here and they can and some even will hurt you. Poor Midoriya-kun had to deal with a teenage girl around his age last week and almost got stabbed."

You widened your eyes as you saw by thhe corner of your eye the poor boy shivering at the memory as Yagi patted him by the head with a nervous chuckle.

You followed Nezu when he entered the building and found the place surprisingly intact even if hearing some shouts, psyotic laughter here and there..

"Im so sorry to not introduce the place for you (L/n)-san, but I have not only young Midoriya here but also another "student" to take care of." The man laughed as you smiled up at the man.

"I understand. Having onterns at such a young age must give some work." The blonde chuckled as he waved while Midoriya wished you a good first day at work before Nezu called you to stand beside him on a elevator and pressing the button to go down.

The number of the monitor, indicating the floors, were lowering as you arched an eyebrows until you jumped at hearing nezu giggling.

"We have floors that indicate which state our pacients mental health is... the lower the floor, the more these expecific pacients of oura need desperately for help."

"I see..." you picked your bag and took out the paste that only had the name and doccuments of your future pacient... Chisaki Kai.

A man around 20 and 25 years old that was a surgeon once, raised by a mafia boss. After being catched of by police for trying to make an unknown and forbided drug he was arrested. His adopted father had gotten ill and eventually put into a coma... in desperate to gain some blood for the elder the only with the compatible blood type of his father was his nephew... it seems that he had almost taken the blood of the girl by force due to desperation after he got out of prison...

Not even succeding on helping the old man, he got send to the Asylum after the acussation of his poor mental state. He got into a physical and heavy fight coincidentally with another pacient of here, and lost both of his arms.

He seemed also to have some sorta of OCD. His mysophobia being so advantege that not even if he comes to contact with dirty places, but even if he felt nervous or angry, hives would appear on his skin... also suffered from PTSD attacks and was paranoid, seing figures of assasinans and monster of four arms after the loss of his father and own members...

This patient is considerated one of the mosy dangerous around here even if missing both arms, now aparently substitute by prosthetics..

NOW you knew why anyone hasn't been very fond of him... the man had beaten up three of his previous doctors and almost send one to heaven.

The sound of your gulp got mixed with the ones of the doors of the elevator opening and Nezu menyioning for you to follow him on the hall.

The entire hall was super and almost shinning clean as you walked through it.

"As you saw on his file. Chisaki has a serious matter with dirt, even going as far as to almost beat our janitor after finding a piece of fry lying on the cafeteria. After that, he reveives his meal only on his room in hopes je doesn't cause such a tragity like before..."

"I see he is pretty... demanding." You muttered as Nezu stopped by a door made of Iron as he searched for a key.

"Surely, not even one of his doctors got the chance to knowing kore than his files, so I wish you to be the lucky one." The man smiled at you before pushing the door.

"... who is it?" The voice came from the darkest part of the room and you saw a hunched over form after squinting your eyes hard enough. The voice was deep and low kinda sexy even

"Chisaki. I have the honor to present you the doctor (L/n) (Y/n)-"

"Ah, another doctor I see." It came as a scratchy sigh, his head lifting up to reveal a man with gorgeous golden dull eyes and brow hair similiar to the woods of a pine, his skin pale amd the prosthetics arms shine the light of the halls back into your eyes.

This was against your own code.... but damn this man was hot.

"Is.. a pleasure to meet-"

"Lets see how much long will you last..." he said with a empty smirk before falling back to his stoic and empty expression, staring at the wall and demanding for you both to get out.

Nezu sighed as he accompanied you to outside and looked at you expectedly.

"... I think I can deal with him. He doesn't sound too bad as his files give away." You smiled at Nezu as he gave a rather relieved sigh and shook your hand in glee.

"Great! Your consulta will hlbe in his room witha bodyguard waiting outside to provide you security as he will be handcuffed for extra care."

You frowned at that as the man handed you the key and accompanied you for an tour around the whole building... Handcuffed? This was a bit extreme...

Wasn't it?

You breathed in and out as the guard was already set on post to watch over. Turning the key to open and quickly close it as instricted by other doctors and collegues.

"Hello." You greeted softly while closing the door as he stared at the table he was handcuffed with "I believe we didn't had a much pleasurable start due to Nezu there..." you seated on ths chair in front of him as he gritted his jaw.

It was silence for a bit as you sighed in sympathy.

"Listen, I have nothing here. Neither to hurt or touch you. I also took at least three showers before coming here to talk with you. I was rather excited to be honest." You smiled at him as he only arched an eyebrow up, still stoic expression.

"Foolish." He gritted through teeth as you tilted your head in confusion "You heard of me getting three people at least to the verge of death... Tell me, how cam you defend yourself from me?" His voice lowered dangerously but you still remained grounded. Surprisingly not even feeling scared.

"You mean also from the... monsters?" You saw how his muscles tightened as his eyes widened at you before narrowing them deep into your soul.

"Dont play like that. I know no one can see them... is just me."

"Well, that is true..." you leaned a bit towards him "But that doesn't mean I cant just try to understand you."

"Is that supposed to make me laugh? I dont need this stupid shit." He hissed while glaring at you.

"I suppose... but when was the last time you talked with someone though?"

It was silent... then he just sighed a bit shakily before starting to scratch the upper part of his arm...

"Get out. Now." You hummed, eviting to giggle at the shocked face he tried to hide at sieng you actually was leaving after he demanded.

"I will be back by tommorow then. Have a nice day Chisaki." You left the room and was inspected by the guard for any form of bruises or injuries and yhey were impressed.

"You're the first one that didn't got injured with that guy over there..."

"I think i just might be getting somewhere with him if I try hard enough."

Slowly but surely you got to talk with Chisaki. He still remained reserved most of the time, but as soon as you brought up the topic of a mess on the first floor was enough to make him complain about the quality of this place.

It wasn't exactly a start... but you did needed to get some sorta of trust of him on you.

One day you were about to enter the room and saw the episode everyone warned you about. His hallucinations.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" you dodged the table he threw with all the force he had near the door as you closed immediatly when you heard the bodyguard calling for others to help put Chisaki on a straightjacket.

"Get out! Get OUT! GET OUT OF HERE!" he shouted at the top of his lungs as he lunched the air and walls as you watched in wary and worry in your eyes as you tried to aproach safetly from behind.

"Chisaki-" you gasped when he almost punched you if it wasn't for your good reflexes "Chisaki listen to me!"

Ee only let out a bloody scream as he tried with all his forces to attack you before he caged you by the wall as you gagged at the metal hand on your throat.

"Chisaki.. im not here to hurt you-!" You tried to push more air into your lungs as he growled.

You tapped his shoulder out of desperation and immediatly gasped for air as he jerked away from your touch, blinking as if he had just woken up as you coughed.

When you opwned your eyes and saw him standing up, looking at you in shock you sighed in relief while getting up.

"H.. How? How did you make him to..?" He whispered while looking around the room in desperation "H-He was just... here-! He was HERE!" He shouted, his anger coming back as you walked towards him.

"Chisaki.." his amber and wrathful eyes looked into yours as you asked softly "What was in here?"

"It was.." he looked at the ground comflicted before grasping his hair with a groan "No no.. cant be... CANT BE! HE ISN'T HERE!"

"Who isn't here? Chisaki?"

"MY IDIOT FATHER!" he shouted "HAPPY NOW DOCTOR?!"

You widened your eyes as he breathed in shakily before dropping on the ground and crossing his arms to support his head.

"But... why would your-"

"Not the one in my files..." he groaned before looking at the wall numbily "My biological shitty one... an abuser. Use that to get a promotoon or whatever brat.. just leave me alone."

You furrowed your eyebrows down at him. Your heart speaking louder than your mind as you gently aproached him and seated next to him, maintaning enough distance to mantain him on a comfortable state.

"... I thought you didn't remember your biological parents." You commented as he linched the bridge of his nose.

"How could you forget someone that made your childhood a living hell?" He breathed out "I dont even know why I am even telling you this..."

"... let me guess.. abusive?" You spoke with sadness as he chuckled darkly.

"Pitying a sociopath and murder now doctor?" He brushed his fangs away "Don't. Is pathetic."

"Abusive." You confirmed as you stared at the wall he was facing at "Instrict father and negletful mother..?"

"... the man was an arrogant bastard... always beating and just taking away any sorta of ways of basic needs.. while my mother was a selfish women whose always called me a failure. A burden. A mistake... my father on one day was about to beat me up for grabbing something to eat..when I grabbed his gun to defend myself and accidentally shot him... the woman called the police on her own 5 years old child can you imagine that?" You stared at him in sadness.

No one knew his backstory. No one knew anything about him when he was under 12 years old. His archive compeltely erased... and there he was.

"The visions you have... is of him?"

"... a more like fusion or something." He groaned whipe scrwching his face "Has his face but has the arms of a beast... and four arms... other times is that Shigaraki that took my arms... others are my mother just trying to stab me or hold me down while she yells for me to... to behave..." he sighed shakily "Is the session over yet?"

You frowned before slowly aproaching him and taking his metal hand on yours as he widened your eyes.

"Is over.. but if you want i can stay here... to make sure those assholes wont be back." You smiled up at him as he stared at you like you grew three heads.

"I... I believe you have other places to be...?"

".. I enjoy having your company." You smiled again "After all, you dont deserve to be left caged alone.. You're still human after all.."

He stared at you before looking at the wall as you giggled a bit at the tips of his ears getting red as he thought over and over again.

Was he... was he really worth of being called a human?

"This new medication here might give some colateral effects, so after taking them i need you to tell me. But asides from that they will releave a but if that itchy feeling of your hives and the other will help a bit with your-"

"Hallucinations" the man completed as he analyzed the bottle only to sigh and open it later "I saw them once in the hospital I worked for."

"Oh I see!" You replied cheerfully at seing an opportunity to talk with him "I know you were an explendid surgeon."

"... kind of. Had almost a heart attack when blood was spilled on my skin now at then. Sicks.." He looked at you snorting before the hint of a smirk started to form only to dissapear as he took the two piles onto his hand.

"Uh.. You need to eat first to take your meds." You warned before he could plop the pills on his mouth... he stared deep into your eyes as he lowered them on a napkin and leaned on his chair while crossing hsi metalic arms.

"Then I guess I wont be taking it. The food of this place is horrible and disgusting. Not as much as my room." You arched an eyebrow at him before furrowing them in worry.

"What? Dont they clean your room? The halls are even shining. And what about the food?"

"Not quite." He sighed "A precary job, and some guards like to come by and dirt the place just to give me a headache... the food is just the same."

You hummed before getting up.

"Well then, I guess I have to grab somethings and demands some changes..."

"Oh, how adorable. You getting my food? Make me laugh some more doctor, Im dying to see it." He spoke on a nonchantly tone as you only poked your tongue out at him before muttering that you would be right back.

To him it seemed like hours you had gotten out and even dared to scold on how slow you must be.

"I brought you what seems to be your favorite! Not the food from the cafeteria, I swear!"

He watched in amusement and accidentaly smiled at seing you there with what was once his favorite food until he flinched at your gasp.

"I see a smile thereeeee!!!!" You pointed at his face repeatedly as he surprisingly gently slapped your hand away while taking the bag.

"You're such a nuisance." He sighed, hating how his mouth drooled.

"I washed the fork."

"But I didn't even-"

"I know you Kai." You giggled before widening your eyes and slapping your hands over your mouth in shock.

His eyes were also wide open as you felt your face heat up.

"Im so sorry! It was so unproffesional this oh my Go-"

"Is..." he interrupted you while looking at the opposite direction of yours "Alright... surprisingly my name doesn't sound... so bad when you speak... doctor."

Your eyes softened a bit as a flustered and quite a happy smile graced over your features that made him blush even more.

"Is impressive!" Toshinori and Nezu exclaimed together as they saw the progress yoh had made with Chisaki only in a matter of months as you giggled. "You're a god send (L/n)-san!"

"Please!" You waved them off in embarrassment.

"No no, none of that young one!" Yagi snorted "We decides to give you a week of vacation after such an amazing progress like that! Starting today!"

"T-Today?!"

"Yeah! Dont worry about your pacient, we will get him a substitute just to make him take the meds."

You didn't had much of a choice since they already send the poor guy over his way.

Two days... two days and you simply wasn't here. Just seing a trembling hand almost throwing the pills at him as he sighed in dissapointment. Two days and he hadn't see the face of his beautiful and pretty doctor of his... he couldn't believe it...but he was so desperately craving them. To hear her voice, to.. even feel his hand brush against hers...

He jerked up when he heard the sound of the door opening, narrowing hus eyes at seing that the doctor whose entered his room, wasn't his doctor.

"U-Uh... I-I'm here to-"

"You're." He standed up from his bed "Not." He walked close to the shivering doctor "my (Y/n)."

Before he knew it, he saw visions of you being handed and taken away by one of these monster as he shouted and beaten up the man, the security guard allerting all of the bodyguards about the pacient 14 leaving his cell and attacking others.

The alarms set off and all securities were called as he toom them down ome by one as he shouted with all the forces of his lungs:

"WHERE IS MY DOCTOR?! GIVE HER BACK!" he shouted as he took each one of them down and even managing to stab one of the doctors and one of the security guards witha freacking pen that was in the pocket of one of the pacients that was nearby.

“GET THE SEDATIVE AND THE STRAIGHTJACKET! QUICK BEFORE HE-” the poor guard had his head locked on Chisaki metal hand as he slammed him into the wall into the point it bleed.

He shouted in pain when he felt the syring on his neck, his body starting to get drownsy as he was threw down on the ground, still trying to fight until the end as he kept calling for you...

“Help me... PLEASE! I WILL BE GOOD! IM SORRY!” He shouted and cried at the same time “WHERE’S MY DOCTOR?! (Y/N)!”

He shouted your name until he had no voice or force t do so as his body gave out....

You ran after scoldng every one that tred to stop you as you searched for the key of Kai’s room.

You had received an emergency call after three weeks of your vacation and to say you were both terrified and worried was a understandement. You needed to see Kai. Just thinking about him prisioned on his room and on a jacket made you feel horrible... you even heard the possibilty of the U>A taking away his prosthetics arms due to “security measures”.

You opened the door and loghten up the lights to see Chisaki laying on his bed. A numb look towards the ceiling as you whimpered his name and went to stand close to him.

“... did you come to kill me..?” you widened your eyes as you thought the urge to tear up as you looked for the key of the straightjacket that Nezu gave it to you after your begging.

“Kai im so so sorry...” You whimpered while freeing him... HIm blinking as if he just notices your presence and moving his arms before sitting up.... looking at his metal fingers move, one by one..

“..Are you another hallucination...?” he flinched at your hand coming in contact with his cheeks ashe looked at you as if he was about to kill you right there.

“No... Kai, feel me.. I’m here. Aren’t the meds helping you anymore:”

He stared at you for a what seemed like a decade before he brushed his fingers on your cheek before choosing to bring you close on what seemed like a hug, since he coulnd’t feel with his prosthetics...

A shaky sigh leaved him as he clinged onto you.

“I... You weren’t taken away... I dont feel sick with your touch...” you hugged him back with a shaky inhale before breathing out.

“I wont be taken away... Im your doctor after all...” you buried your face on the crook of his neck and inhaled his clean scent. getting drunk by him.

You didn’t know when your lips came in contact, but they did... and you didn’t even cared about your carrer anymore, you only carried about him... you knew this man could and would get better. You just could feel it.

“You want to know something?” he whispered after the kiss as you hummed “You sound more like an angell to me. My angel.”

#overhaul x reader #chisaki kai x reader #kai chisaki x reader #bnha villains x reader #kai chisaki #overhaul #bnha au asylum #pacient number 14 Chisaki Kai #bnha writings #bnha fanfiction #bnha fanfics #bnha villains #zuffer writings

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ollieofthebeholder · 4 years ago

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For We Are Afar With the Dawning: A RQG Fic

Also on AO3. Contains spoilers for Episode 207.

Augusta is floating. Both literally and metaphorically.

Mentally, she’s floating on a peachy-pink cloud of euphoria and warmth and happiness and contentment. It’s an absolutely perfect day, the kind of day she never gets to experience anymore. The sky is a clear blue dotted with puffy white clouds, the sun bright enough to illuminate the scene but not so bright to hurt the eyes, and it’s pleasantly warm without being oppressively hot. The gentle, cooling breeze brings with it the faint scents of something floral; Augusta’s never been all that great with scents per se, but she thinks it might be roses or something.

Physically, she’s in a rowboat in the middle of a glassy lake, lying on her back with her arms folded contentedly over her chest and her head resting on a lap that seems to mostly comprise of white illusion. Augusta herself is wearing a loose-fitting lawn shirt and a pair of trousers, her feet bare. A pair of oars rest in the locks on either side, but nobody is using them.

“You know, Gus, I think you’re going to have a curly crop when this grows out a bit.” Delicate fingers run through Augusta’s delightfully short hair. “You’re going to look quite rakish.”

“Just so you don’t try to get me to wear one of those dreadful outfits you were talking about that boy wearing in your book.” Augusta smiles. “Really, Lou, where’d you come up with that? Nobody actually dresses like that.”

Louisa laughs. “I wanted it to be really clear that there was no way Jo would ever fall in love with him. Why would she love someone who dresses like that?”

“You should have given one of the girls who came to the Christmas play a name,” Augusta says. “And a personality. And a reason to come back.”

“Are you suggesting I should have put you in the book after all? I thought you didn’t like publicity, O Best Beloved.”

“I don’t like being tied to my brother. Being tied to you is different.” Augusta punctuates this by reaching up and twirling a strand of Louisa’s dark hair around a finger.

Louisa swats her hand away, but she’s laughing again. “Are you going to row us back to shore at any point? Mary and Emma should be here soon. Your Sasha was going to take the carriage and go get them.”

“She’s not my Sasha,” Augusta protests.

“She could be, if you asked, I’m sure. You know we’re all just yours for the asking.”

“Oh, stop it. That’s not how this works.”

“You can’t tell me the idea doesn’t appeal to you,” Louisa says relentlessly. “Having your own personal harem of beautiful and brilliant women. Mary for those delightful scientific discussions and Emmuska for solving puzzles and mysteries and Sasha for going on daring adventures and robbing tombs with and me for...well, when you want to be lazy and bored, I suppose.”

“Louisa May Alcott.” Augusta sits up and takes both of Louisa’s hands in hers. “You have no idea how happy I am. Right here. With you. I don’t need anyone else. Don’t get me wrong, I adore Sasha and Mary and Emmuska and I love having them around...and you’re right, Sasha’s so much fun to go poking around places we aren’t wanted with. But if none of them were here, I’d be happy just the same. Maybe more so. Being with you?” She brings Louisa’s hands up and kisses them tenderly. “This is perfect.”

Louisa blushes beautifully, but there’s a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “You’re just saying that because you don’t want to row back to shore.”

Augusta laughs. “You wound me. Right here.” She places one hand over her heart.

She’s joking, but suddenly, it feels like Louisa—or someone—has wounded her. There’s a sudden, sharp, stabbing pain in her heart, and the last thing she sees is Louisa’s sparkling eyes and sweet smile before the world goes white.

It resolves after a moment. Now instead of sitting in a boat, Augusta is sitting on a rock in a clearing in a verdant forest. Looking up, she can see the night sky and the stars, so many stars, more than she’s ever seen, and the sweep of the Milky Way looks almost green. The moon shines down on the clearing and illuminates her.

Augusta looks down at herself. She’s wearing more practical clothes now—boots, trousers, tunic, leather jacket—actually, it’s a lot like what Sasha Rackett wore when Augusta first met her, nearly two years ago now, except newer and neater. Across her lap is a well-made crossbow.

A big beast swoops overhead, one Augusta can’t identify (she grew up in a city and the only kind of hunting really considered proper for young ladies of her station was foxhunting). A moment later, there’s a rustle in the undergrowth, and a figure pops out into the clearing, a short figure with outsize ears and a drawn bow.

“Wotcher,” the figure says. “Seen a big beastie go by here?”

“It went that way,” Augusta says, pointing the direction she saw the beast fly. “What is it?”

The hunter—she presumes—shrugs. “Dunno. Still haven’t figured it out. Haven’t caught it yet. Maybe once I do, I’ll know. For now I just call it The Beast.”

He doesn’t seem particularly put out by this. He has a hunt, and what exactly he’s hunting doesn’t seem to matter much; he’ll find the answers when he finds the beast. It’s something Augusta feels an odd kinship towards. “How long have you been hunting it?”

The hunter shrugs again. “Dunno. What year is it?”

Augusta tells him. The hunter draws in a breath, then nods. “Well, then...two thousand years, give or take a couple hundred.”

“Ah.” Augusta looks around her. “We’re dead, then.”

“Probably, yeah. Well, I know I am. You probably are too. What were you doing?”

Augusta thinks for a moment. “Dreaming.”

The hunter snorts. “Not the best way to go out.”

“It’s not like I chose to go out that way. I’d rather have gone down fighting.” Augusta sighs. “At least it was a pleasant dream, though.”

She touches her chest, out of habit, and has a moment of panic when she can’t find what she’s looking for. Frantically, she scrambles at her neck until she finds the fine chain, then pulls it out and breathes a sigh of relief when the heavy silver locket lands in her palm. Just to be sure, she pops it open, and Louisa’s eyes stare back at her.

Augusta smiles back at the picture, then looks up to see the hunter staring at her inscrutably. She coughs and closes the locket. “Sorry. Just...checking.”

The hunter reaches into his own clothing and pulls out a photograph, but doesn’t show it to her—which startles Augusta, as she didn’t think photographs were that old—before putting it back. “It’s important to hold onto these things. Until you find them. Everything dies, after all.”

“That...probably shouldn’t be comforting, and yet…” Augusta takes a deep breath. “Everything does die, doesn’t it? I don’t know that this is exactly her idea of paradise, though.” Then again, she hadn’t realized it was hers, either.

The hunter shrugs. “Probably not theirs, either. But they all connect. I’ve got a camp set up.” He gestures off to one side. “Check in there every few...decades, maybe. Just to see if they’re there yet. It’ll be nice to have a home to come back to, someday, but for now...there’s the hunt.”

Augusta considers that as she tucks the locket back into her shirt, then looks down at the crossbow on her lap. “I’ve never really hunted in forests before, but I’m not bad at hunting in general.”

“I’d be willing to teach you some tactics. If you’re interested. Just until we both find what we’re looking for.”

Augusta stands up, shoulders the crossbow, and holds out her other hand. “My friends call me Gus.”

The hunter grins, red eyes sparkling, as he accepts her handshake. “Grizzop.”

~*~*~*~

Sumutnyerl soars, buoyed up by a thermal, then banks to one side and swoops low, skimming over the grass. This is their favorite form; they love to fly, and it’s a perfect day for it.

Beside them, another eagle tacks and swoops playfully, then sheers off. Sumutnyerl beats her wings to gain a bit of altitude and follows. For a moment, they race one another straight up into the air. Then the other eagle dips backwards into a loop. Sumutnyerl screeches in delight and goes into a spiraling dive, weaving around the other.

They continue this sky-dance for several minutes before the other leads up to the branches of a tree; Sumutnyerl follows and lands on a branch, then transforms back. They’re already laughing with delight. “I never get tired of that.”

“Nor should you.” Oblaitko smiles warmly, their eyes soft and kind. “The day one grows accustomed to the gifts that have been given is the day one ceases to live and begins to only exist.”

“I mean doing it with you.” Sumutnyerl looks out over the rolling meadow. “I would that we could do this forever.”

“We can,” Oblaitko answers. “Our duties are...light. And not incompatible. We needn’t go back to the town at all. You can attend to the Garden, I to the River, and we can spend the rest of our time here.”

Sumutnyerl considers. The idea is...not unwelcome. She feels an utter sense of peace here, with Oblaitko by their side. More than that, they feel like herself, like an individual and not just part of a collective.

“I would like that,” they say at last. “Very much.”

Oblaitko tucks a strand of Sumutnyerl’s hair behind their ear. “As would I.”

“A bargain, then.”

“A bargain,” Oblaitko agrees. “We can ask permission in the morning, but I hardly think the Council will object. It will save resources, after all.”

Sumutnyerl sighs and leans their head on Oblaitko’s shoulder. They place their arm around her shoulders and pull them close, one hand idly resting over their heart.

For just a second, Sumutnyerl wonders if Oblaitko is concealing a blade, because they suddenly feel a sharp, stabbing pain in their chest. They look up in shock, but there’s nothing on Oblaitko’s face to indicate they’re doing anything...and then the world goes white.

When Sumutnyerl’s vision clears, they are no longer in the branches of a tree, but somewhere else, somewhere far too familiar. Awareness settles on Sumutnyerl’s shoulders as they look around the Garden of Yerlick, but not as it is in life—currently or under ordinary circumstances. The flowers bloom as they past, trees put out their hands like old friends, and the spirits of the dead are instantly visible, smiling and calling to them.

Ah. This again.

“Sumutnyerl?”

Sumutnyerl turns and smiles again. Oblaitko stands before them once more, not in the same form as a moment ago—no longer young, their hair white, their back bent with age and the weight of their position—but their eyes are the same warm, kind brown they have always been .Right now, they are wide with shock and not a little sorrow.

“Hello, my dear friend,” Sumutnyerl says.

“Sumutnyerl,” Oblaitko says again. “Why...how are you here? Like this? You—you mustn’t. It isn’t your time.”

“Perhaps not,” Sumutnyerl agrees. They touch their heart, where the phantom pain is fading fast. “I—I believe I may have been stabbed in my sleep.” Like Nik, they think, with a mingling of regret and anger.

“You will be given another chance.” Oblaitko states this quite calmly, as if it is a given fact rather than an opinion...or a hope. “The Garden needs you. Our people need you.”

“Perhaps I shall be given the offer,” Sumutnyerl replies. “And...perhaps I will accept. But...well. There is much that has happened. Perhaps if I am not needed...perhaps if my last great task has been fulfilled after all…” They hold out their hands. “Would you allow me to stay?”

Oblaitko takes Sumutnyerl’s hands, and stares into their eyes, and no other words are necessary.

~*~*~*~

Hamid knows, on some level, that he’s dreaming, if only because Zolf isn’t really one for parties. That doesn’t stop him from being happy, though. Hamid’s sleep for the past few months has been dreamless at best, teeming with nightmares more commonly, and occasionally non-existent at worst. A part of him has started to believe he’ll never have beautiful dreams again, so the fact that this is a good dream means he’s going to enjoy it for all it’s worth.

And the others all look happy, too. Aziza sings beautifully, her eyes sparkling and face expressive, and her husband gazes on her with a proud, adoring smile. Saleh, his wife, and Hamid’s mother are listening to Oscar tell some story, gesturing dramatically with his drink, his other hand being occupied holding Zolf’s. Zolf has a faint smile on his face as he listens to a story he’s probably heard a hundred times—hell, it’s probably one he was there for, those are Oscar’s favorite stories after all—but that he never gets tired of hearing Oscar tell. Hamid’s father looks more relaxed and content than Hamid has seen him...well, ever since he started paying attention anyway, deep in conversation with Saira and Apophis. Azu, wearing the gown she and Hamid designed together for the opening of the so-called Bow Bar, is making a valiant effort at letting Ismail teach her one of the fancy dances he’s learned, while Ishaq enthusiastically does the same with Cel. Skraak and Grizzop have become fast friends, which Hamid isn’t surprised by, and he wonders what they’re talking about and if he’s going to have to help Zolf clean it up later.

Hamid dances. He loves to dance, almost as much as he loves to fly, and he doesn’t really mind that he doesn’t have a partner at the moment. As he spins, putting in one of the fanciest twirls he knows, he catches Sasha’s eye across the room and grins; she grins back and shoots him a double thumbs-up.

Hamid starts in Sasha’s direction. She’s so good on her feet, he thinks, she’ll be really good at dancing, and she’ll love it. Aziza’s just wrapping up the song she’s currently working on, and Hamid’s pretty sure she’s going to go into the aria from Act I of Carmen, which was her first leading role and one she’s quite proud of. Hamid knows with absolute certainty that Sasha will kill it at a tango.

Before he gets to her, he passes his mother and gets a kiss on the cheek. Saleh gives him a friendly poke in the chest as he passes, which actually hurts a lot more than Hamid is expecting, but he tries to laugh it off, especially as Saleh is laughing, too.

Zolf turns to face him. Letting go of Oscar’s hand, he reaches over and touches Hamid’s forehead with one thumb. He’s still smiling a little, and the look in his eyes is one he hasn’t given Hamid in a long time—not since the beach south of Calais, after they survived the storm sailing from Dover. It warms Hamid all the way to his toes.

“It won’t end this way,” he says, and while he sounds like he’s talking at an ordinary volume, Hamid somehow gets the feeling that nobody can hear Zolf’s words but him. “I won’t let it. Your heart’s too big to be destroyed by something like this.”

Hamid feels simultaneously stronger than he has in ages and like something’s being sucked out of his lungs. His wings unfurl from his back before he completely registers that the music is gone.

He blinks. Someone is holding him—it feels like Cel—and it’s dark. The memory of the lights dimming and then going out comes to him...and they’d been heading to the lab, he remembers, because of the tunnel, but what—?

Zolf’s voice comes from not very far in front of him. “Get in in the door, and get safe.”

Hamid blinks again. That’s an order, they’re in the field—he promised he would follow Zolf’s orders in the field, so even if he doesn’t know exactly what’s going on, he’s going to do what he’s just been told and he can ask questions once they’re all safe. Surely Zolf will be right behind him.

He takes in a breath to acknowledge his instructions—and sucks in a lungful of sweet-smelling gas. Instantly, he drops unconscious back into Cel’s arms.

He blinks and he’s at the party again. Zolf is still standing in front of him, smiling as he turns back to the conversation—did he leave for a minute? No, surely not, Hamid’s been here the whole time, he thinks fuzzily.

The song wraps up on a triumphant sting, and there’s a smattering of polite applause, and then just as Hamid suspected, the music starts up and it’s “L’amour est un oiseau rebelle” from Carmen. He hurries over to Sasha and holds out a hand. “Sasha, come on, you’ll love this!” he cries.

Laughing, Sasha takes his hand and lets him pull her onto the ballroom floor. She’s a natural at the tango. Hamid would never have dared ask anyone else to do this dance with him; it’s a fiery dance of passion, usually, but this is Sasha and she’s just his favorite sister, as far as he’s concerned, even if she’s not his sister by blood. There’s no romance behind what they’re doing here, no heat. They’re just two kids having fun, really, laughing and taking increasingly flamboyant chances with the flashier moves.

He ends the dance by dipping her, somehow, despite the fact that she’s two feet taller than he is, but they’re both flushed and laughing and having a great time. It doesn’t even matter that they overbalance and fall onto the dance floor. Nobody’s really watching them anyway, which is just the way Hamid wants it right now. He doesn’t have to be the center of attention all the time. Not even most of the time.

“I like your wings,” Sasha says, poking one of them, and when did they come out? Hamid genuinely can’t remember. “This ‘cause you’re a Meritocrat?”

“I’m descended from a dragon,” Hamid corrects her. “I’m not a Meritocrat.”

“Good. But the wings are cool anyway. Do they work?”

“Oh! Yes. Want to see?” Hamid gets to his feet and manages—somehow—to pull Sasha up too. “I can cast fly on you and we can—”

“No,” Sasha interrupts, surprising him. She pulls him into a tight hug, and, oh, Sasha gives the best hugs. Hamid’s always suspected she would, but she’s always been iffy about being touched. If his wings hadn’t already popped out with joy—apparently—they would be bursting out now. He hugs her back just as tightly as she lifts him off the ground with the force of her embrace..

“Don’t you give up, Hamid,” she says in his ear. “Don’t you do it. There’s no dream so good it’s worth losing the whole world for. You get back out there and you fight to make the world this good. Because this right here? This is worth fighting for.”

Just a little of the euphoria peels back from the edges of Hamid’s mind, and he clings to Sasha a little tighter. “I don’t want to lose you again.”

“’M always with you, mate. Just like you were always with me. We’ll meet again. But right now, you’ve got to go save the world for me.” Sasha pulls back enough to smile at him, and her eyes are wet. “Make it a good one.”

Hamid’s eyes snap open.

~*~*~*~

If you had asked Oscar even a year ago, he would never have described this as the most perfect moment of his life. He would have said that the most perfect moment he could imagine is a gala celebrating the opening of his greatest work, a play that will be talked about through the ages and mean his name lives on long after he does, resplendent in his finest clothes, a rapt audience listening to him declaim his opinions—finally being the center of attention for art instead of admin.

But no. He enjoyed that, yes, and he’s looking forward to reading the description of it in the newspapers. But the truly perfect moment is this one. Just a simple, quiet family breakfast the morning after.

Azu is at more or less the opposite side of the round kitchen table they’re using instead of the formal dining table, nursing a hangover bigger than she is; she’s got a glass of tomato juice and a cup of strong black coffee and isn’t really talking to anyone. Cel is scribbling on a piece of paper and muttering under their breath, probably trying to improve or refine the special effects they and the kobolds designed and built for the production. Zolf presides over the stove as usual, his beard done up in one of the intricate braids he only does when he’s in an especially good mood and his shirtsleeves rolled up to expose his forearms. Sasha stands a little way down the counter, beaming as she slices and chops meat and vegetables for him; she’s the only one Zolf allows to help him in the kitchen, and even then only on special occasions. Hamid sits to Oscar’s left, a pile of newspapers between them, his pre-breakfast snack actually half-forgotten at his elbow.

“The reviews look really good, Oscar,” he says, sounding almost as delighted as Oscar feels as he hands over the Times, folded back to the Arts page. “All the criticisms I’ve seen so far have been about the acting, not the play itself.”

“I told you to cast Barnes in the lead instead,” Zolf calls from the stove.

“Not my call, darling. I’m not the casting director.” Oscar reads the article Hamid is handing him, a broad smile blooming across his face as he reads. Hamid’s right, the reviews are glowing, and this is from a critic who’s notoriously hard to please. A particular phrase about halfway down the column catches his eye: Wilde’s masterful words and turn of phrase makes even Johnson’s leaden performance turn to the purest gold.

Turning a few pages on, Oscar opens the society page and is delighted to see that most of it has been given over to a description of the party celebrating the opening. There are even a couple of pictures accompanying the article, and Oscar very carefully folds the paper back so that one of them is more fully visible—Oscar at the center, smiling broadly and holding a drink in one hand, his other arm draped around Zolf’s shoulders, the others arrayed around him looking pleased and proud.

“Have you thought about your next project?” Cel asks, looking up from their notes.

Oscar shakes his head before Cel can launch into an elaboration of the question. “No, not yet. I think I’ll take some time to see how this one does first. It may have opened well, but that doesn’t mean it will end well.” He sighs, a bit dramatically but not entirely put-0n. “Things so rarely do.”

“Things rarely stay good the whole time they’re happening, but that doesn’t mean they won’t end well,” Azu points out. “We got here, didn’t we?”

“And you’ve earned it,” Hamid adds encouragingly. “Happy endings feel a lot better when you have to work for them.”

“Cheers to that.” Sasha tosses her knife into the air; it flips four times and then returns to her hand without her even looking at it, and she goes back to her chopping.

“Have a bit of faith, Wilde,” Zolf chides him.

Oscar smiles fondly at his dwarf as he sets aside the paper. Azu’s faith in Aphrodite is a certainty you can cut your teeth on, but Zolf’s faith in Hope is nearly contagious. Like their happy ending, Zolf has worked for his faith, he’s earned it, and it’s never betrayed him. It’s the only reason any of them are still here, really. It’s the anchor that kept Cel from spiraling with guilt, it’s the keel that steadied Azu when she doubted herself (not her god, never her god), it’s the beacon that led Sasha back to them. And it’s the only reason Oscar and Hamid are still alive, albeit with matching scars—

Wait. Where did that come from?

Shaking his head slightly, Oscar pushes away from the table and passes behind Zolf, touching him first on the shoulder, then the cheek. “I have plenty of faith, dearest. In you if nothing else.”

“Get away from my workspace,” Zolf grumbles, though without any heat.

Oscar smirks and moves down the counter towards the cutting board, ostentatiously reaching for one of the ingredients waiting to be added to whatever Zolf is preparing. Sasha jabs playfully at his chest to make him back off.

She’s too good at what she does to accidentally stab someone when she’s only pretending to, and she wouldn’t stab him, especially not with Zolf’s good tomato knife; she has too much respect for both Zolf and blades to do that. And yet, pain suddenly erupts in Oscar’s heart, as though she’s driven a blade far bigger than the serrated one she’s holding into his chest. He inhales sharply, and the world goes white.

For just a moment, it resolves itself into his flat in Paris from when he was in university, or something similar anyway, but then it swirls into a pink mist. He feels something solid holding onto him, something anchoring him firmly in reality, and warmth floods his entire being. He feels safe and protected and cherished, and it gives him strength.

His eyes open, and he finds himself lying more or less on his back. Zolf kneels next to him, one hand tenderly cradling his jaw, the other pressed to his heart, which hurts like anything.

“Wh—huh—?” Oscar tries to sit up, his mind scrambling to fit this dark and rather crowded antechamber or wherever it is they are in with the light and airy kitchen-slash-breakfast nook he remembers from just a few...moments ago? What’s going on?

Zolf’s face is pale, his blue eyes intent, and there’s a trickle of blood near his hairline that worries Oscar in a vague and distant way. But he doesn’t have time to ask about it before Zolf looks into Oscar’s eyes and says in a voice that crackles faintly with an emotion he can’t place, “Get the others out, and get safe.”

Before Oscar can question it, or protest, or even figure out what it is they’re supposed to be safe from, Zolf half-shoves, half-throws him through a door that’s barely open wide enough for him to get through. He slides a few feet until he’s able to at least drag himself on his hands and feet a little further into the room. Someone runs past him and takes hold of the door, but doesn’t close it.

Oscar blinks hard, shaking his head to clear it. There’s a sweet smell in the air and he almost sniffs at it, almost tries to see what it is, but then his eyes fall on the crumpled figure not far from where he is and it acts like a dash of cold water across his brain. Hamid. Hamid is flopped in a pitiful heap, his new wings draped across the floor, his eyes closed.

He was dreaming. Oscar realizes that in the same moment that he takes in Hamid’s unconscious (oh, gods, please let him only be unconscious, Oscar cannot have failed him a second time) form and the sounds of something that is definitely not making breakfast in the other room. He pushes himself to a standing position and looks around the room. It doesn’t take long to spot the tunnel Hamid spoke of, at the back of the lab. That must be both out and safe.

“Tell the others to follow us,” he calls over his shoulder to the person he now recognizes as Ada, hurrying over to Hamid’s side and hefting him into his arms. The wings make it awkward, but Hamid sort of nestles into Oscar’s arms. Thank the gods, he’s alive.

Oscar runs. He heads down the tunnel, the light fading behind him, but he can’t spare a hand to cast any sort of spell to help him, so he just gets as far as he can. There’s just enough light left for him to see the gate before he runs headlong into it, and he checks, then looks over his shoulder. The others will be coming any moment now, he tells himself. They just have to wait a moment.

He sets Hamid down on the ground and looks him over quickly. He looks...fine, really. A bit disheveled, but fine. Then Oscar notices the bloodied tear in his shirt. Underneath the rend is a scar so new its edges are still shiny, directly over Hamid’s warm and generous heart.

It doesn’t take a genius to guess what happened. And, touching his own chest briefly, Oscar feels the same thing.

He checks Hamid over quickly, and even though he’s a bit rattled, he realizes that the sweet smell he noticed earlier is probably what knocked Hamid out; other than that, he looks fine. Oscar sniffs the air experimentally. It’s a bit fresher down here, so he should be able to…

“Hamid,” he says urgently, shaking the halfling, then slapping his face as gently as possible. “Wake up!”

Hamid’s eyes snap open. There’s a moment of disorientation before his eyes clear. “Oscar?” he says, his voice a bit higher-pitched than normal as he sits up. “What’s—what happened?”

Oscar still has no idea, actually, except for one absolute certainty so strong he sensed it even in his dreams, maybe even before it happened. “Zolf saved us.”

The confusion on Hamid’s face melts into fierce determination. “Then let’s go return the favor.”

#ollie writes fanfic #rusty quill gaming #rqg 207 #207 spoilers #minor character death #grief mention #violence mention #augusta leigh (rqg)#sumutnyerl #hamid saleh haroun al tahan #oscar wilde (rqg)

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