#Referring to my last post - there's a deep seated need in me *to have my status as a Daedric Prince.*

[wawhii]

Religious fictive talk once again.

If you're going to be strange on this post, especially about my source, don't fucking read it.

[bichachonacho]

Retribution

pt.2 of ‘The Other Woman’

pt.3 here

warnings: angst and fluff (technically) & mentions of sex.

The fan art divider below is not my work. I found it on pinterest but Idk who the artist is. If someone knows can you please lmk so I can give them credit <3

a/n: also thank you so much for all the love for part one of this story <3! and I’m sorry to those who asked me to tag them with this post I was trying to but it wouldn’t let me for some reason :/

It had been weeks since that night, the same night Aemond confessed his feelings for his true love Alys in his drunken state. The same night you had cried yourself to sleep, wanting to be as far away from your husband whilst being trapped in his embrace. You woke the next morning with a new realisation— why should you bother trying to be an outstanding wife when you would never compare to her.

His beloved Alys.

Her name tastes like poison in your mouth, so distasteful you fear you’ll grow sick if it lingers at the forefront of your mind any longer. You feel guilty, it’s not her fault you’re trapped in a marriage with a man who’s madly in love with her.

You stop trying with Aemond. All the effort you put in to try and gain his approval, affection and love would inevitably go to waste— so why should you spend any more time worrying about Aemond and his needs. He didn’t need nor want you to be his wife, so you shouldn’t act the part.

You carry on with your day after your brief breakfast with Aemond in the dining room. You kept the conversation short, as you usually do now. You have little to say to him besides conversation about your shared duties to the throne and your family. You stopped trying to make small talk with him, your attempts before often irritated him. He wouldn’t hide the fact your consistent need for communication with him bothered him. Now you’re content with the shared silence between the two of you, grateful that you didn’t have to scramble to think of things to talk about.

You allow the handmaidens to ready your bath as you contemplate what outfit to wear for your day out of Kings landing. You ignore the way Aemond’s eye is trained on you intently, silently observing the way you think over what dress to wear between the two options.

“If those do not please you, I’ll buy you finer dresses, dear wife” Aemond breaks the silence, causing you to scoff at his attempt of being a considerate husband. This was one of the only times he had referred to you as his wife, weeks ago you would’ve been praising your gods in thanks— now the title barely phases you.

“Now why would you do that” You huff, deciding on the dress that was a deep shade of blue. You brush past him, hinting for him to leave the room when you bathe. He hums before pushing off of his seat and leaving the room, shutting the door behind him as you begin to undress.

“Are you planning on telling Prince Aemond where you are headed?” Your handmaiden Meredith questions you as she brushes your long silver hair. You pretend to lull the thought over before you say no.

“He doesn’t need to know. My absence won’t phase him” You hum, causing Meredith to tut as she braids some of your fine hair. You shut your eyes momentarily, preparing to receive an earful from the older woman who was like your mother figure in Rhaenyra’s absence.

“I would question that, Princess. Prince Aemond had spent half the day searching for you when you had left to roam the streets two days ago” She informs you, causing you to hum in thought as you processed what she had just told you. It seemed absurd that Aemond would notice you leaving for a few hours, you could disappear for weeks and he wouldn’t bat an eyelid.

“I trust you won’t tell him if he searches for me” You hum, confiding in her trust. You already knew the answer, Meredith would defend you with her last breath if it came down to it. She presses a soft kiss into your hair before standing up and stretching her limbs.

“Be mindful there is a family dinner tonight. You cannot be late” Meredith informs you and you wave her off, promising you wouldn’t be tardy before you push off of the hard floor and prepare to leave your bedchamber.

You had forgotten your promise the moment you stepped foot on Dragonstone. It had slipped your mind completely as you spent the day with your younger siblings— your mother distracting you in the evening by telling you stories by the fireplace. Your hand was steadily caressing her heavily swollen stomach as you listen to her tale, hoping your sibling inside of her womb was also listening. It was so entertaining you had forgotten of your curfew.

You leave Dragonstone hastily on Dragonback, cursing as you chastise yourself for forgetting such a thing. Meredith would definitely give you an earful later for this, but that was the least of your concerns as you take quick strides down the halls of the Red Keep. Out of breath and hair messy from the ride back, you quickly try to make yourself more presentable before you enter the dining room— the guard posted outside the door giving you a look before you enter.

“I apologise for my tardiness, your grace” You announce as you greet Alicent who gives you a tight lipped smile from her side of the table. She silently disapproved of your lack of consideration for time but said nothing— allowing you to take a seat beside Aemond.

You ignore his stare, keeping your gaze focused on the plate infront of you as you cut into your steak, hoping he would lose interest of your face and stop staring so intensely.

“Where have you been?” Aemond confronts you, finally breaking the deafening silence that could be cut with a knife.

“I went for a ride. Needed some fresh air” You glance at him as you answer, catching the dissatisfied look on his face at your alibi.

“Be honest with me” He presses you again, his voice slightly louder and catching the attention of the others sitting around the table. They pretend to carry on with their idle chatter, obviously eavesdropping on your conversation. You stay silent, ignoring his statement and hoping he would lose interest and stop talking to you.

“Your husband demands you to answer him” He growls, his tone revealing his frustration at your silence.

“Or what? You’ll sever my tongue?” You argue as you drop your cutlery, accentuating your anger as you repeat the words he spoke to you at this same table weeks ago. Everyone around the table goes silent at your sudden outburst, Aegon barely biting back a laugh whilst Helaena gazes at you with sympathy in her eyes. Alicent as you expected still wore a scowl on her face, unimpressed by both you and Aemond’s antics.

“I apologise for my outburst” You announce to everyone at the table before you continue to quietly eat, shifting further away from Aemond in your seat as you internally wish you were riding back to Dragonstone.

“I visited my family. That’s where I was today” You sigh heavily as you both enter your shared bedchamber after the dinner had concluded. Aemond gives you a look of understanding before you brush past him and begin to undress.

He lingers around the small bookshelf you insisted to be made months ago, finger trailing along the covers until he pulls out the novel containing children’s tales.

“You no longer read to me. I wish for you to read again” Aemond’s voice is just above a whisper, barely audible with the only sounds being your fabric loosening and the crackles from the fire.

Every second night after you wed, you made it a nightly ritual to read out loud your favourite stories from your childhood. Hoping it would help you bond with Aemond, it in fact did the opposite and made him leave the room most times— claiming he’d rather listen to Aegon fucking some whore than you reading to him.

“Today has exhausted me. Feel free to read on your own accord” You hum, dismissing his request as you stifle a yawn— pulling back your sheets to lay on your side of the bed. Aemond sighs heavily before he retires to the seat infront of the fireplace, reading quietly to himself. You had already shut your eyes and lulled yourself to sleep, so you missed the way he kept glancing over at your sleeping form.

Aemond feels a slight tightness in his chest as he reflects on how distant you’ve been with him for the last few weeks. He noticed it the first morning you stopped asking him a million questions at the breakfast table. Your odd behaviour that morning only being the start to you growing further apart from him. You stopped trying to drag him to the garden to simply walk with you, you no longer played with his hair or tried to jest with him. You didn’t ask him how his day was at the end of the night as you both lay down for bed, you would just silently turn over and sleep.

He’s hurt you, more times than he could count on all ten of his fingers. He treated you so bitterly because he blamed you for losing his sweet Alys to this betrothal. Now that he’s losing you too, he doesn’t know how to stop this marriage from falling apart.

The next morning, you ready your proposal to Aemond— one that you’ve been dwelling on for the last few weeks. You weren’t sure of how he’d react, probably ecstatic over your suggestion if you were to be honest. You know Alicent won’t be satisfied if she were to find out, so you intend to keep it a secret.

“We will reside in separate bedchambers. I’ve already asked Meredith to arrange Jace’s old bedroom down the hall for me. I’ll be moving my belongings there tonight” You announce to Aemond once you are both sat together during breakfast. He pauses at the news, confusion gracing his features as he stares at you.

“We’re married, why should you feel the need to sleep away from me?” His chest tightens again as he speaks.

“We’re practically worlds away when we share one bed, what difference would it make being in separate rooms” You say nonchalantly, sipping on your lukewarm tea as your eyes leave his. He doesn’t voice his disagreement with your suggestion, just silently nodding before he continues to eat.

When night comes, both you and Aemond make your way to your bedchambers after spending an evening with the whole family in Aegon and Helaena’s quarters. You were practically glued to her youngest child the whole night, unaware of your husband’s stare as he watched you babble away in gibberish to the young baby.

“Do you need instructions on where to stick your cock, brother?” Aegon had clapped him on the shoulder as he joins him by the fireplace he was leaning against. Aemond hums in confusion, pulling his gaze away from you momentarily to glance at his brother.

“It’s out of brotherly love that I question why you haven’t put your seed in her yet. Have you not been married half a year now?” Aegon scoffs, downing his goblet full of wine before he tosses it aside.

“We don’t share the insatiable urge to fuck like rabbits the way you and your whores do, dear brother” Aemond bites back, causing Aegon to raise his hands up in defense.

“At least I feel the urge to touch them, not once since your wedding have I seen you embrace her— not even with a simple kiss” Aegon was right, after their wedding night, Aemond didn’t bother trying to share any affection with you. In his heart he knew his kind touch and warm embrace were reserved for the one woman who held his heart in her hands.

“Y/N…” Aemond hums, stopping you in your tracks as you stop walking down the hall. You feel his hand embrace yours as he turns your body to face him, his touch warm as he cups your hand in his.

“H—how was your day?” He questions you, his stutter causing him to curse at himself internally as he notes how foolish he sounds. You let out a little laugh at how confusing he was being, you spent the walk back here in utter silence and he chooses only now to ask you.

“It was like every other day I have here. Meredith made me chocolate muffins— they were divine” You hum, unsure of what else to talk about you ask him the same question.

“My day was mediocre at best, one can only bare Aegon for so long”

You hum in understanding, Aegon was more than a handful. He was torture when he wanted to be, which was majority of the time he was in anyone’s presence. You’re blessed to be married to the tamer brother, the same one who still had your hand in his grasp.

“If that is all, I wish you goodnight Prince Aemond” You hum, pulling your hand from his grasp completely before you turn on your heel and continue on your way to your new bedchamber.

Discomfort sits in his stomach at your use of his formal name, it was as though he wasn’t your husband— a stranger to you almost. He feels guilt reside in him as he reflects on how he would chastise you for calling him terms of endearment that Alys often used. It’s only now as he watches her walk away from him and disappear into her bedchamber that he realises he would give an arm and a leg to hear you call him those names once again.

Much to your dismay, you can barely sleep a wink. You toss and turn against your cold sheets , frustrated and confused as to why you couldn’t sleep soundly in your own space. No longer did you have to sleep stiffly because Aemond was on the other half of your bed. You had all the freedom in the world to sleep, yet you couldn’t even as you tried your hardest to.

You decide to take a walk in the garden to clear your head and hopefully tire yourself out enough to finally rest. Sighing heavily, you admire the warm air that fans against your skin as you quietly make your way down the halls. Your eyes widen slightly as you see his long silver hair, his eye focused on the moonlight that beams through the trees leaves above him. For once in your marriage you seem to finally sync as you realise he couldn’t sleep either, needing the comfort of nature to clear his head.

“You couldn’t rest either?” You hum as you approach him, the leaves crunching beneath your bare feet as you move closer to him. He seems startled at first, exhaling in relief when he recognises his wife’s voice.

“It seems as though I have grown used to the warmth of your body beside mine— your absence has turned me into an insomniac” Aemond admits truthfully, causing something inside of your gut to spark when you hear his words.

“It appears your absence has caused me to have the same troubles” You chuckle, crossing your arms over your chest as you look up at the leaves above your head, fascinated by it’s pretty colour.

“We shall grow used to it as time passes” You exhale, hoping that you don’t suffer the same fate tomorrow night. He’s taken aback by your statement, his eye resting on your face.

“Time passes? How long do you intend on being separated?” If you weren’t aware of Aemond’s true feelings toward you, you would almost hear the hint of sadness in his voice as he speaks.

“I was meaning to discuss this matter with you in a week’s time, but seeing as we’re alone and at our most vulnerable— I shall inform you now” Your words cause his pulse to quicken, he involuntarily feels his heart pound as you turn to face him. He didn’t know what to expect.

“I know this marriage wasn’t one formed from a love match. I’m the last person you wished to marry and somehow we still found ourselves betrothed” You sigh heavily, reflecting on the moments you’ve shared as a married couple so far— most, if not all being ones where neither of you were happy.

“Someone else has ahold of your heart, it was never mine to claim and I was foolish for trying to in the first place. This marriage was always destined to fall” You grasp ahold of his hands in yours, the gesture causing your gazes to meet as he finally looks at your face.

“I give you my permission to pursue your beloved Alys, so long as we both continue this marriage for the sake of our family name and duties— nothing more, you are free to love her. I too will do the same, in hopes that I do one day find someone who loves me as much as you love her” You say in finalisation, watching his face for any sign of a reaction.

Aemond’s heart feels like it’s going to burst out of his chest at your words, he didn’t know how to feel. You were giving him a golden opportunity on a silver platter, he would get to love his Alys freely— without the guilt of already being a husband and that in itself sounded like heaven to him. Still, he was heavily conflicted. He wanted to confess to you that even with his love to Alys, he still longed for you— his wife that he had watch gradually lose herself because of him. It’s selfish of him to need you both, to want you almost as much as he wants her.

After a moment, Aemond finally nods his head in agreement— the words of truth being trapped in his throat as he fails to utter even a word to you. You give his hands a squeeze before you release your hold on him.

“This matter is settled then” You hum before you pull away from him. You bid him goodnight, your words barely processing in Aemond’s mind as he fails to speak. Instead he watches you walk away in silence, leaving him alone in the garden with his thoughts and his latest regret.

—

a/n: Idk about this ending tbh sorry if it’s meh but the final chapter will be worth it :p

tags <3

[rubra-wav]

Why So Blue? Vox x Reader

[ Part 1 - A Like Morning Unlike Others ]

A/N: I have a kind of loose idea of where I'm maybe taking this one, but I am very much open to any suggestions.

People asked to be tagged in what was going to be part 2 to the oneshot. My ideas changed a bit with this tho, and it's being rewritten as a fic from the start - sorry if this isn't what you really had in mind w that request 😭

[ Taglist ] @gigglesandshits @serendipitous-fernweh @valentinosbabycakes @ seriouslyaverage (won't let me @ ???)

[ part 2 ] >>

Cw: SFW, Gn!Reader, slight staticmoth reference

The morning you first showed up was like any other for the Video Star.

As always, Vox awoke at 7:00 am on the dot, staring at the ceiling for a couple of seconds as his system warmed up properly for the day ahead.

After the 'sleep' cleared from his mind, he sat up and then climbed from his bed to quickly change before swiping his phone off his nightstand as he walked to the personal kitchen in his part of the building (he had it installed so he didnt have to see his colleagues before his persona was up to snuff) and began scrolling through his emails.

He opted for those from Carmine rather than Velvette or Valentino.

It was frankly too fucking early to deal with whatever bullshit they were yelling about on seemingly all of his socials in his mind. (a decision he'd come to regret rather soon)

Last night's hangover still clung to him, but he pushed through it. He was rather happy all things considered. Carmine's email confirmed that she was on board with partnering up for personal surveillance systems without much questioning, thankfully.

He was about to get even fucking richer.

He grinned widely at the prospect as he leisurely made his coffee - black, naturally - fantasising about how he'd be able to spy on hell's citizens even more with them literally installing surveillance cameras into their own homes for security purposes.

Those poor, desperate idiots practically exploit themselves!

Vox chuckled at the thought, humming as he walked in the direction of his broadcast room, scrolling to look over the email Carmine sent once again to fully understand all agreements. To try to see what he'd be able to push her into doing potentially.

The hatch to his lair broadcast room opened loudly and closed just as loudly behind him as his footfalls echoed in the silent room against the cold tiles.

Vox didn't look up once as he made his way to his seat.

He didn't need to.

He knew where everything was in here as nobody else was ever in here. And if they were?

Well, those demons wouldn't be 'employed' much longer, we'll say that.

His seat squeaked as he sat on it, sipping his coffee as he swiped through some more notifications.

He glanced at his monitor momentarily as he took a deep sip of coffee that would gross anyone else out, then promptly choked on it, gracelessly spitting some onto his keyboard and lap.

He felt truly chilled to the bone for the first time in a long while.

Wide, red eyes watched in horror as a very drunk version of himself from last night met him. In the video, he was shaking his hips from where he stood on a bar while singing (he assumed) shittily if his memory served right.

The video was muted from where it played on the screen of every monitor in his room, but he expected it.

His frozen present self watched himself in the video as drunk Vox stumbled and then proceeded to topple off-camera to the ground.

His instant assumption was that Valentino or Velvette had posted it online, but that was quickly off the cards when he noticed that not only were both of them watching him while laughing with no phones in their hands, but it was posted from his own fucking Sinstagram account.

It already had over a million likes, and it'd been up for only an hour at this point. His colleagues wrote surprised comments underneath, asking if he meant to post it. Valentino adding that Vox looked cute in it either way.

He could feel his fear and anger rising, loud zaps of electricity emitting from him already as his claws dug into either armrest of his desk chair, leaving long scratch marks on them which exposed the padding within.

Then he read the bottom caption of the looped post of himself and fully lost it.

'For someone who talks so big about being ahead technologically, it was awfully easy to hack old Boxy here.'

Vox lets out a loud, enraged yell, slamming his fist on his desk, promptly causing himself to Bluescreen and knocking out much of Pentagram's electricity in the process despite not being plugged into his set-up.

-

On the other side of the city, you laugh loudly as you watch the press conference where the Tech demon overlord fought to clean up his image.

It began just a few minutes after you were exposed to Vox's rage in the form of your lights shutting off.

It didn't affect your setup, of course. A certain someone you knew had helped you craft it, and it ran on a different server.

While others were still waiting for their shit to get back in order after Vox stopped plastering his rather strained grin on every screen, you were watching the press conference in one window while admiring how quickly his men raced to try and patch up the code you'd gotten through last time in another.

Of course, it hardly would do anything for you the next time around you decided to clown on him.

You shifted into a cross-legged position on the floor, glancing between the mess of old and new monitors surrounding you all interlocking with equally messy and tangled cables.

You passively wondered if anyone had been killed during all this, expecting yes, but not paying much attention to it. You couldn't do anything about what he decided to pull in response to your attacks.

Anything for your entertainment.

You cracked your fingers loudly as you began to prepare for the next bag of shit you'd be leaving on his doorstep.

Snickering with a smile, you watched his hypnosis ability activate, manipulating everyone watching outside of your own eyes.

They would forget this, but you wouldn't. And neither would Vox. You'd make sure all of them remembered you eventually.

Snorts and giggles echoed out in the silence of your small, shitty apartment as you mulled over all the things you had planned for the next few months.

Jesus christ, this would be fun.

Yeah, this reader isn't a good person either. They just wanna fuck around with Vox as much as they can and don't care much who becomes cannon fodder in the process.

I was considering also writing pt. 2 into this as well, but I figured that I would do this as just a taster for this series starting for the first post. Pt. 2 will be soon 🙏

Why So blue Masterlist (not much here yet obv)

Main Masterlist

[skyfallslayer]

Should We Stay or Should We Go? || Chapter Five - Part 1

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

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

🎲Summary: Hopper breaks into Hawkins Lab, while Nancy and Jonathan confront the forces that took Will and Steph. The boys, and even to their surprise, Steve, ask Mr. Clarke how to travel to another dimension; All while Stephanie frantically starts looking for Will after hearing his cries.

🎲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: 22,544 (In Total)

🎲Date: 7/31/24

🎲Warnings: Heavy Angst; Heavy Language & Dialogue; References To Broken Friendship; Mental Strain/Breaking Down; Physical Fighting; Lying; "Death"; Funerals; Crying; Talks of Corpses; Being Drugged; Brief Alcohol Consumption; Unwanted Touching; Suggestive Dialogue; Suicidal Thoughts; Minor Blood; A Certain "Curse" Comes Into Play Early; The Byers Family's Mental Strain; Hopper Being a Great Cop & A Total Mess; Dustin Being a Gangster & A Overprotective Brother; The Harringtons' A+ Parenting; Steve's Emotional Damage & Signing Up To Be A Babysitter; Stephanie & Will Deserved All The Love, man. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

(And let me know if I missed anything)

🎲A/N: Heads up, Readers! This document is split between two parts. For some reason Tumblr said I reach my 1,000 space limit, or something like that and wouldn't let me post it because it's so long. But at the very end of this part will be a spot you can click on for the next. Hopefully where I cut it off makes sense. Hope y'all in for a treat :) - And as you probably will notice when you're reading this, I left out Lonnie, Joyce's ex-husband. I left the scene out of chapter two where Jonathan goes to meet him and inform him that Will is missing. I felt like I really did need to write that, kind of like I don't feel like writing him in this chapter either. He doesn't exactly benefit this story, and this chapter/episode, is the last appearance of the character anyway, so... I just decided to just cut him, and replace his intense "dialogue" with a scene between Joyce and Jonathan. Hope you understand, and enjoy this chapter ❤️

Hopper wasn’t sure what he was even doing or thinking anymore. He got the answers he was looking for, but there were still some follow up questions about those answers that he needed to know. When the horrible, horrible thought crossed his mind about breaking into the morgue and seeing if the poor kids’ bodies were even real, he barely even hesitated. Why he didn’t hesitate kind of scared him. I mean, did deep down he know his doubts might be real?

So he swallowed and drove over to the place, still in his street clothes, hat discarded in his seat, and smelling like cigarettes and three hour old alcohol. He got out of his car, parking illegally, and was surprised to see the receptionist outside the door.

“Hey, Patty. Heading home?” He said, and she perks up upon seeing his face.

“Oh, Chief. Perfect timing. I was just debating if I should call you or not.” She says, confusing him.

“Is there a problem?”

“I…” She sighs. “I-I don’t know. About… ten minutes ago, I would say, a young lad came in and said his brother left something behind and wanted to retrieve it. I let him do it, but I noticed he hasn’t come back. And when I try calling out to the officer in the back I get no response. Frankly, I’m a little freaked out to investigate myself.”

A young lad? An officer? That’s weird. “Did you recognize this man? The one who came in?”

“I don’t recall seeing him this morning. Just Ms. Byers, her son and of course Ms. Henderson. But that’s all I’ve seen all day.” Patty explains before pointing in the distance. “I’m assuming that’s his car.”

Hopper follows her finger, a familiar black BMW was parked a few feet away. If it wasn’t for her pointing it out, he surely would have missed it since the area had poor lighting. It didn’t take him long to realize who’s car that was.

He puts on a front to calm her. “I’ll see what’s going on. Just wait right here. I’ll make it quick. ‘Kay?”

“Okay. Thank you, Chief.”

As soon as he’s inside, his hand is already on his holster. Judging by the car, he knew the Harrington kid was here, which he’s not exactly sure why; But to be honest, him being here was his least concern at the moment. He was more concerned about another officer being here. I mean, this was a morgue, people unfortunately die all the time, whether it was just natural or part of a crime; So it didn’t make any sense why the murders of two local kids would get special treatment.

His mind of course wanders back to the bar earlier where he had to beat the crap out of O’Bannon just to get some answers.

.

“Okay…” Hopper pins him to the wall. “Let’s try this one more time.” He grabs the man by the chin, squeezing. “Who told you to be out there? What were you doing out there?” He watched for an answer, and when he wasn’t getting any, he dialed back his fist.

“I don’t know!” David shouts. “I don’t know. They… they just told me to call it in and not let anybody get too close.

“Get close to what?!”

“The bodies.”

.

The bodies. Someone told him not to get close to the bodies. There was something about Will and Stephanie’s bodies that no one was supposed to get close to, and needed a cop to guard the morgue.

And I am a little afraid to find out why though. As Hopper got closer to the back, he immediately saw something that made him draw out his gun. The cop, whom he didn’t recognize at all, was lying unconscious on the floor (At least he hoped he was unconscious). He runs over quietly, and squats down to check for a pulse. Breathing. That’s good.

Now for the real question is… why was he unconscious? Was this the teenager’s doing? He frowns and pushes open the unlock door carefully, and steps inside. The cold temperature hits him hard but he doesn’t shiver; Maybe it was the adrenaline that was pumping in his veins, and pulled his heart to his feet. It was so eerily quiet, it was like straight out of a horror movie. He had half expected someone to come through the shadows with a knife. As he move inland more, he heard some shuffling and someone muttered, ‘What the fuck’, and then decided to push open the door to the fridge.

He must have startled the other party, which so happened to be the Harrington kid, brown eyes blown wide and (Oh, the irony) a knife pointed his way. They both stared at one another in silence, both surprised to find each other here…

Both surprised that they had the same idea/doubts.

Hopper’s eyes trailed past the boy’s shoulder, landing on the table where he could see the top of the dead girl’s head. What is he–

Then he stops himself when he notices something else. In the tips of Steve’s fingers, he sees a small ball of… cotton. Afraid, but he didn’t show it, he starts walking towards the table, lowering his weapon as Steve sidesteps to give him room – Hopper’s heart almost stops. He sees the incision immediately, and the white fluff pooling out of it. The two of their gazes meet, silence was enough to tell the adult everything. 

Deciding he needed to know more, he pulls the sheet back over the body and slides her back in before searching for another one. In the drawer below, he pulls out Will’s body and pulls the sheet back. It was still a sickening sight to see, despite knowing damn well it was a fake; But he still needed to know. Still not saying any words, Hopper holds his hand out and Steve gets the message and hands over his blade.

With no hesitation, Hopper digs into the realistic flesh, the flesh that was dry and had no prior incisions like it should have, and pulls out the same fluff like the last one. 

Oh, my God. His doubts were real. The bodies were fakes. But if that was the case, where were the children? Closing the blade and handing it back, Hopper grabs the teenager by the bicep and strings him along. “Come on.”

They leave in a hurry, only slowing their pace when they see Patty outside. Hopper puts on a cheeky smile, still holding onto Steve. “Dang, teenagers. Always wanting to do a good prank.” He chuckles. “Everything’s all good. Goodnight, Patty.”

“Uh…” She stares at him, slightly confused but still waves goodbye. “‘Night, Chief.” He drags the boy back to his car, glancing back to make sure she was inside before exploding. 

“Hey, listen–” Steve begins, as he tries to wiggle out of his hold.

“What did I say about forgetting our conversation at school?” Hopper snaps, and let’s go.

He scoffs and gives him a look. “How could I forget? Especially the way you reacted? How could I forget all that?”

“Listen, son, whatever this is–” The adult gestures around. “Is dangerous. Something’s going on, and it’s a dangerous slope.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“You know?” Now it was Hopper’s turn to scoff. “Then why the fuck are you running head first into this?”

“‘Cause I had doubts too. I thought about everything, and nothing’s adding up, Chief.” Steve explains, getting a groan from the man. “Nothing’s making sense. They said the two of them drowned in the Quarry, but I highly doubt that. But, who knows! Maybe they did get pushed towards the Quarry, but they also took a shotgun with them. If someone was chasing them to a cliff, why didn’t they use the gun? Why did they feel like they had to make their bodies fake? Were they actually taken and not lost? Or–”

“I’m going to stop you right there.” Hopper says, holding his hand up. “I know you have questions, I get that, but you really need to stop and let me handle it.”

Steve shakes his head. “I’m not letting this go.”

“You should. Before you get hurt.”

“They stuffed my friend like she was a fucking stuffed animal!”

“I thought she wasn’t your friend anymore?” Hopper asked, and Steve shut his mouth and looked away. His face softens a tad. Just a tad. “Listen, something is definitely going on, that’s as clear as day. But when I poked around today, I noticed someone was following me, which means I’m getting close to something that I’m not supposed to.”

“That means you’re on the right track then.”

“Yes. But that’s a track that I don’t want you on.”

“Chief–”

“Steve.” Hopper steps closer, and grabs him by the shoulder. “I know this is an emotional time, but I need you to trust me, and let me do this. Please.” He swallows the lump in his throat. “I can’t see another kid get hurt or die on me. So trust me, and stay away. Okay?”

Steve nods slowly. “Okay.”

“Good. Go home. Be safe. And please, do not do anything stupid.” He warns, because he’s about to do something stupid. But Jim Hopper doesn’t really know Steve Harrington all that well.

Because the teenager was already planning on doing something stupid too.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

Besides the migraine, Stephanie wakes up to the sound of screaming. She shoots up from her sleeping form, big blue orbs blown wide and adrenaline starts to spike. Memories came in slowly, remembering the way her body basically gave her the finger and shut off on its own, falling into the deepest, but dreamless sleep. Her body felt colder than usual, and hugs herself for warmth.

What is… She winces at the pain in her temples spike, followed by a small drop of blood coming out of her nose. Slowly, she reaches up to touch, her fingertips stained red. She wonders if she hit her head too hard when she fell over. That could explain the headache, the nosebleed and the feeling of being in a fog. Hopefully she didn’t give herself a concussion. That’s the last thing she needs.

And that’s when she hears the scream again.

She felt a shiver, not from the cold, run down her spine immediately. She knows that scream so familiar now, it’s engraved in the back of her skull.

“Will.” She mutters, and looks around. Sure enough everything was here except for him. “Will?!” And then another scream, and Steph wastes no time to grab her pistol and bolt back towards the house. “WILL!!”

Completely scared – heart beating, head pounding, blood trickled down her chin – and the thought of not losing her footing was keeping her going. She doesn’t know why he was gone. Did he run off on his own? Did the monster get him? She’s not so sure, and she doesn’t care. She just needs to find him and make sure he’s safe. 

“Will!” She shouts again, completely obviously how short the run time was,  and rammed through the back door and–

Right back outside. 

She stumbled to the stop, and her eyes burned in the light, the buttercream sun and the sound of peace, and the feeling of warmth she hasn’t felt for days now. Confusion hits her now, and she suddenly finds herself on her very own lawn that was connected to her very own home. She blinks, and looks around, spinning on her heels like a twirl. Everything looked… normal. No weird snow-like substance falling from the sky, no darkness, no weird plants that pulsate, and drop temperatures close to zero. She was back home, and totally not in a scary place she’s been stuck in.

But how did I– How did I get back here? She touches her head, thinking. None of it made sense. She ran through Will’s back door and now she’s here? Back at her home? The normal version? This doesn’t–

Then, a car pulled into the driveway, making her breath get taken away. It was a 1960s station wagon, her Mom’s car, her Mom’s old car, The one that had gotten totaled in an accident years ago. 

She tilts her head, squinting like it would just change at any second. Why is it–

Then the front door opened in a flash with another shocking sight. Her grandmother, the one that passed away when she was just a kid, was standing in the doorway with a huge smile on her non-sickly face.

// Oh, baby, they’re here // She says, and that’s when she’s hit with another strike to the gut.

Stephanie watched as her barely five year old self shifted around her granny, practically bouncing down the steps towards the yellow car. Her mother gets out first, with a small bundle of cloth in her arms, which her younger self was giggling about.

// Stephanie, come meet your brother, Dustin // She said, with a smile that touched her eyes and soul.

Her younger self laughed as she showed her baby sibling. // Hi, Dustin //

Stephanie stared, the confusion intensifying by hundreds, no even sure what else to say except, “What the fuck…?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Hopper manages to sneak through the door just as a scientist left for the night. He was out of his mind, he knows that for sure, especially since he decided to trespass into Hawkins Labs that seemed more guarded the last time he was here. He was also more out of his mind when he decided to head inside the place that was blocked off and had two large hazardous signs on the entrance. Well… what do they say?

You only live once.

The hallway was short lived, leading right up to a door that was of course locked, and unable to access it without a passkey.

“Shit.” He said, unaware of the two security guards rushing up behind him.

“Hands up!” They shouted, guns drawn. “Forgot all the cameras, bub?”

Hopper decided to play it cool, his face calm with a smile as he slowly turned around, hands in the air. “Look, Dr. Brenner asked for me specifically. Okay? How else do you think I got in here?”

One of the guards raised an eyebrow, using a free hand to reach for his walkie. “What’s your name again?”

“It’s Jim Hopper.” A little chuckle. “Chief Jim Hopper.”

He presses the button. “Yeah, I’ve got Jim Hopper–”

And the Chief landed a punch across his jaw, sending him to the floor and grabbing his gun. He immediately points it to the other party, and pins both his arms against the wall. The guy over the radio shouts what’s going on, but Hopper ignores it and takes the guard’s weapon away from him too.

“Hey…” His fingers latched around the badge. “You mind if I borrow this one?” 

He plucks it off and swipes the card, never taking his eyes on the conscious guard until the door shuts. As soon as he’s in the dark room, Hopper shoots a bullet through the card reader, trapping himself inside.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, the boys were back at the Wheeler house, all lounging around in the basement, trying to process everything they heard on the radio.

“What was Will saying? Like home... but dark?” Mike said, pacing around, occasionally glancing at Eleven who was laying in a daze on his couch. He feels a bit bad that they might have pushed her too far tonight.

“And empty.” Lucas adds, face in his hands.

“Empty and cold.” Dustin says, sitting on the steps, a worried look on his face. “Wait, did he say cold? And who was he talking to?”

“Could have been your sister.” Mike suggested.

“No. He said my sister was passed out. There’s no way that was her.” Dustin groans. “That stupid radio kept going in and out.”

“Like home. Like his house?”

Lucas perks up with a snap of his fingers. “Or maybe like Hawkins.”

“Upside down.” El mutters from her spot on the couch.

“What’d she say?”

Mike was suddenly hit with realization and springs over to the table. “Upside down!”

“What?”

“Upside down.” He waves them over, and flips his upside down game board back over. “When El showed us where Will and Steph were, she flipped the board over, remember?” He flips it over again. “Upside down. Dark. Empty.”

“Do you understand what he’s talking about?” Lucas asked, meeting his other friend’s eyes.

“I’ll admit, I’m a little lost.” Dustin said, sheepishly. 

“Guys, come on, just think about it.” Mike pressures. “When El took us to find them, she took us to Will’s house, right?”

“Yeah. And they weren’t there.” Lucas points out.

“But what if they were there? What if we just couldn’t see them? What if they were on the other side? What if–” He flips the board back to its normal side. “This is Hawkins and–”  And then back to the blank side. “This is where they are? The Upside Down.”

Dustin gasps. “Like the Vale of Shadows.” It took his friends a moment to process the reality of this as he fished out his ‘unofficial’ D&D guidebook. He flips to the page he was talking about. “The Vale of Shadows is a dimension that is a dark reflection or echo of our world. It is a place of decay and death. A plane out of phase. A place of monsters. It is right next to you, and you…” He locks fearful eyes with them. “Don’t even see it.”

“An alternate dimension.” Mike realizes, terrified as well. 

“But... how... how do we get there?” Lucas asked, worriedly.

“You cast Shadow Walk.” Dustin answers.

“In real life, dummy.”

“We can’t shadow walk, but…” His blue eyes trail to their sleepy friend. “Maybe she can.”

“Do you know how we get there?” Mike asks, hopefully. “To the Upside Down?”

Unfortunately for them…

She shook her head no.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Will?” Hopper frantically called out into the darkness, frantically scanning the area with his flashlight. “Stephanie?”

From what he can tell, this area mimicked a hospital. The white walls, colorless floors, the cold. I guess he should have suspected the rooms lined in the hallway to be filled with beds, but what he wasn’t expecting was the rooms to be catered with a few stuffed animals and security cameras in them. He also got a sudden wave of sickness when he saw a drawing done by a child on the wall, one that looked pretty recent.

What the hell? And that was his last thought before he could hear alarms blaring in the distance. He was honestly surprised they didn’t sound it sooner. So with a gun back in his hand, Hopper raced frantically down the rest of the halls, checking each room he could find.

“Will? Stephanie? Kids?” He shouts, and picks up speed. Come on. Where are they?

When he reaches the end of the hallway, he finds an elevator. A slight blessing in some way, but he also dreaded what else he might find. Are the kids really here? Or is he really following a thin thread? 

“I see him!” Someone shouts just as the door opens. “Hey! Stop!”

Hopper just gives them a sharp glare as the door seals him inside, heading down yet another level. When he did arrive, this floor was a lot creeper than the last. This time it did have lighting, except only every other light fixture ‘worked’ (It was more flickering on and off), and there was something floating in the air – a substance that looked like snow, but wasn’t. 

“Will? Stephanie?” He manages to yell before breaking into a coughing fit. “W-Will? St-Stephanie? Kids!” He continued to cough, covering his mouth with his elbow as he continued his trek. “What in the world?”

When he entered the room at the end of the hall, he saw something he cannot explain. Stretching along the back wall was a very disgusting looking plant; Black veins shot out like the spiderwebs that were hanging off of them, and the middle of it, the core, seemed to glow a red hue and it was… pulsating. In a strange case of curiosity, Hopper couldn’t help but reach out to touch the stickiness.

What is this thing? And that’s when he catches something moving in the corner of his eye. He whips around, gun out again and starts looking around worriedly. And just like a fucking horror flick, a man in a hazmat suit came right out of the darkness and straight towards him. 

“Hey!” He takes a step back as a warning. “Hey! Hey!”

And then out of the depth again, only this time he did not see, another masked up individuals come from behind–

And plunges a needle into his neck.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Jonathan was rushing home rather late. His little… “shopping trip” was cut short by none other than a schoolmate, Nancy Wheeler. Never in his sixteen years on the planet did he think he would get a visit from her – and over something so strange. But now, he was trying to get back home, to tell his mother that she wasn’t insane, that he finally understood what she was saying these past few days.

When he got home the first thing he noticed was there was a big gaping hole on the front of his house. Distressfully, he did his best to rush inside, finding his poor mother shivering with a conveniently placed axe by her feet. It didn’t take a genius to put two-and-two together.

“Mom, what happened?” He asked, and she didn’t even flinch – almost didn’t acknowledge he was even there. 

“Oh… hey, Jonathan.” She said, the exhaustion made her look ten times her age. “How was the shopping?”

“Forget shopping. Jesus, you’re freezing.” He replies, slugging his jacket off and placing it over her. “Just wait right here.”

It took a few minutes to retrieve a few things from the shed, but he managed to nail up a tarp to block the chilly November winds. Holding back the urge to shiver himself, he focuses his strength back onto his mother.

“Mom.” He begins, sitting down next to her (He even takes her cold hands into his own). “What happened?”

“Oh…” She shakes her head with a sniffle. “Nothing, sweety.”

“No, not nothing.” Guilt started to eat at him a bit (Why didn’t he believe his own mother in the first place?). “Why did you take the wall down?”

“Jonathan, it’s nothing–”

“Mom… that thing you saw before–” He swallows “Did it come back?”

She shakes her head again. “Who cares. Maybe it was all in my head after all.”

“No, it was not.” Jonathan reaches inside his jacket pocket, pulling a photo out. “The thing you saw, is this it?”

“Jonathan–”

“Mom, please. Just look.” He gives her a set of pleading eyes. “Please.”

It took a moment, but she did. It took another moment for her to process what she was looking at. And another for the realization to settle in. 

“W-Where did you get this?” Joyce gasps, and points at it.

Jonathan takes a second to think over his story. “Two days after Will and Stephanie disappeared, I decided to look in the area they vanished from. Somehow, I ended up at a house where one of my schoolmates was having a party; Nancy was there with her friend Barbara. Remember Barbara?”

“Yeah, I remember Barbara.”

“Well, you know she’s missing right?”

“I’ve heard. So you…” Joyce gives a look. “You saw her before she went missing?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “But before you scold me, I ended up taking pictures of the people at the party, one of them happened to be Barbara when she was alone at the pool.”

“Jonathan–”

“I know, I said wait… Please.”

“Okay.” She nods. “Continue.”

“Okay. So I snapped a picture, and as soon as I snapped it, she was gone.”

“Gone?” Her look intensifies. “What do you mean ‘Gone’?”

“It’s like she vanished out of thin air. I thought it was weird. Kind of freaked me out too, so I left.” He frowns, scared. Even when he found out what may have happened, he still couldn’t wrap his head around it. “It wasn’t until earlier today that Nancy came up to me and asked to see my photos, from there she revealed she saw something at the house. A man with no face.”

Joyce covered her mouth with her hand, processing. “Oh, my god…”

“Mom, is this what you saw? Is this what came out of the wall the night before?”

She shakes her head eagerly. “Y-Yes. This is what I saw.” She replies, ending with a small sob. “I… I couldn’t hear them, y-your brother and Stephanie, but I just…” She touches her chest, her heart. “I-I just had this feeling that I knew they were there, right next to me and–” She sighs heavily, feeling like she’s losing her mind again.

Jonathan starts rubbing soothing circles on her back, still holding one of her hands. “It’s okay. Take your time. Just… walk me through everything. Please.”

Another sigh, but this time it was for her to steady herself. “Okay. I… started hanging lights, ‘cause when I-I was in the store I felt their presence, the lights on the aisle flickered, so I thought maybe I can get some reaction here. It took a few hours and I did. I said, one blink for ‘Yes’, two blinks for ‘No’. But–” She bites her lips. “It wasn’t giving me the questions I needed, so I painted the wall.”

“The alphabet wall?” He asked, gesturing behind them with his head.

“Y-Yeah.”

“What did you ask them? What did they say?”

“I… I-I really could only get one answer. I asked them, ‘Where are they?’. Then, they gave me a strange response.”

“Which was?”

“‘Right here’.” She points to the floor. “They said, ‘Right here’.” She frowns. “I… I tried asking what that means, but then they told me to ‘Run’. And that’s when that… th-that thing came out of the wall.”

“It came out of the wall, okay. Um–” His eyes glance over to the tarp. “Is that why you took the axe to the wall? Were… were you trying to see if it was in there?”

“No.” Another shake of her head. “I heard him. I heard Will a few hours ago, so I… I peeled back the wallpaper, and… there was this– this bubble type thing inside, and… a-and I could see him, hear him. He was talking, and he was scared. I asked him where he was, and he told me he was here, but it was dark and cold. And… s-something was coming for him, so I told him to run, and…”

“You took down the wall to see if he was there?”

She nods. “Y-Yes.”

“Okay.” He says, nodding to. He was trying to process this. “Okay. Okay. Okay. Um… shit.” He starts rubbing the side of his head. “I… I don’t have an answer for this.”

Joyce laughs quietly. “Yeah, neither do I.” She sighs. “I don’t know… I do know what to do. All I can do is communicate when I can get a hold of him.”

“Yeah.” He frowns. “I guess…”

Suddenly, the lights flickered for a few seconds, and the boombox flipped on. 

.

[ ♪ –or should I go?

If you say that you are mine

I’ll be here ‘till the end of time

So you got to let me know

Should I stay or should I go? ♪ ] 

.

Jonathan had jumped to his feet when it turned on, and got all defensive. “What the–”

“See?” Joyce said, touching her son’s arm to get him to calm down. “Your brother is here.”

The eldest stared at the box, imagining his little brother laying on the floor with his legs in the air, and adding color to a drawing he’d finished. He felt a bit relieved that his brother was still “around”; But it also made him feel terrible, because…

.

.

.

He has no idea how to get Will back to them.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

Will will admit… that this did not go as he planned or at least hoped it would have. He actually got through to his mother, he actually got to see his mother. Even if it wasn’t the clearest image, he could tell it was her. He wonders when the beast crawled out of the wall earlier it must have left behind some kind of doorway to the other side. The sucky part was, no matter how hard he pushed on that… disgusting bubble it wouldn’t budge. All he could do was explain where he was to her and hoping she understood before the faceless beast returned to hunt.

But Will wasn’t shaking this thing off. This thing seemed to be mad, a bit pissed off with the way the movements were, frustrated even as it let out a few growls and huffs of air. He tried to make a few runs for the door, but everytime it kept lunging and throwing him off track. He felt his heart pounding in his ears as he trips on something, losing the shotgun and literally crawling across the hallway to get away. 

He finds himself on the verge of tears at this point, wondering if this is how his life will end: By dying by a literal monster on his big brother’s bedroom floor. 

Will starts pleading quietly, the beast’s meaty hand reaching out towards him, and at the last minute, Will moves out of the way. The beast ran into Jonathan’s desk  before rerouting and stalking over his prey again. Will curls up into a ball in the corner, muttering ‘I’m sorry’ to everyone he knows…

Then his brother’s boombox fell, turning it right on, and causing the lights to start flickering like a rave. 

.

[ ♪ –or should I go? ♪ ]

.

The beast flitched hard, almost like it was hurt by the vocals coming out of the box. It made a distressful sound, Will uncurling himself to watch this turn of events unfold. 

.

[ ♪ If you say that you are mine

I’ll be here ‘till the end of time

So you got to let me know

Should I stay or should I go? ♪ ]

.

The thing lets out a shriek and starts jerking its head around, before calling it quits. It practically threw its body out the room, running frantically around the house until it finally got out and disappeared. Will followed carefully, poking his head down the hallway where he was met with silence again. The beast was gone. Like… actually gone. Scared away by The Clash? It almost seemed too good to be true.

.

[ ♪ It’s always tease, tease, tease

You’re happy when I’m on my knees

One day it’s fine and next it’s black

So if you want me– ♪ ] 

.

He comes over and shuts the boombox off with a small smile, and gets an idea. Rummaging around the filth, he started stuffing some cassettes into his coat pockets until they were full before shifting over to pick up the boombox until he remembered something. A boombox is a bit hefty to be lugging around, and what if it gets to be too much and then they have to ditch it? Then what? What could they use? That’s when he remembers his brother had a walkman lying around somewhere. He eventually finds it, and starts making his way back to Stephanie. 

Will did his best to carry everything in his tiny grip, still a little scared that the beast might make an appearance again (It’s not like he could whip out his gun quick enough ‘cause his hands are full), but now he knew it’s weakness. Who knew it was something so silly like music?

Maybe… this could be our way out? He wonders about that, and he also wonders about the way he communicated with his mom earlier. If the beast could travel to both worlds, could it also be their key to getting out of here? Could there be another gate somewhere? It was questions like these that were going to be hard to answer. Hawkins was so big, how long would it take them to search every nook and cranny for a gateway home?

This is something I got to run by Stephanie. Speaking of… When he got closer to where they settled down, he noticed she was actually awake; Sitting on her knees in the grass, looking like she hadn’t noticed his presence yet.

So, she is awake. Weird. I thought she would have run after me when reading the note I left her. But he shrugs it off. Maybe she was more understanding than he thought. With a huge smile on his face, he picks up his pace to tell her the good news.

“Hey, Steph. Before you get mad, I found a way to protect ourselves.” He explains, setting the items down next to her. “When I accidentally turned on the boombox, the monster got all frightened and ran off. I know that sounds weird, but it works! We can roam freely just by playing a song! Isn’t that crazy?”

He was expecting a scolding, maybe even a laugh, or a look of disbelief, but he certainly didn’t think she wouldn’t say anything. He doesn’t recall her being the type of person to give the silent treatment if mad. Will repeated the last sentence to see if he would get something, and that’s when he finally noticed something odd. The girl wasn’t… moving. She was just sitting there on her knees, slightly hunched over, looking like a statue.

He’s not going to lie, it was kind of freaking him out. “Stephanie?” He slowly crouches down in front of her, and brushes a few strands of hair out of her face and nearly falls back.

To his shock he finds her looking paler than the last few days, and her eyes were bloodshot red and dry, but that wasn’t what was scaring him. What was scaring him was the fact that her blue eyes looked unnatural, and that her pupils had completely disappeared from sight. To him, she looked like she was possessed. 

Will finds himself growing pale himself, completely scared of what’s happening to his friend. “Stephanie?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

Stephanie couldn’t help but follow them inside. Her grandmother was saying to Claudia all kinds of loving things, as her younger self wouldn’t stop expressing how much she wanted to hold her baby brother. It all seems so surreal, it felt like it happened only yesterday, but it was in fact twelve years ago. 

She runs up the stairs and through the door, as soon as she does, the memory changes. The three of them vanished, and the house looks like it was spruced up more in this scene change. Now, she sees her younger self was a little bit older, Dustin was too, and they both were sitting on the floor in the living room, playing a game on their Atari. 

// You’re cheating // Her brother pouts as soon as the score on pong changes to double digits.

She snorts. // How am I cheating? It only has one control //

// Still cheating //

// Dustin… //

Stephanie smiles at the antics. This was pretty much the same conversation every time they played a video game of some sort. It makes her laugh and feel good every time she thinks about it. But this still doesn’t explain what’s going on.

// Ugh, this doesn’t make any sense! // Dustin, a different version, yells from the dining room table. His head lays across one of his books as his big sister looks over it, perplexed. 

// I don’t remember learning any of this // She mumbles, scratching her head. 

// I’m going to fail… //

// You’re not going to fail //

// I’m totally going to fail //

The oldest shakes her head at his antics. She remembers this too, and despite the hardship of it, he still passed with a B. It’s still better than nothing.

She then nearly jumps out of her shoes when she swears something exploded in her kitchen. She rushes over, finding herself again standing off to the side in disbelief. That’s when she saw her brother standing tall and proud with batter all over his face. 

// Pancakes are done // He said, oblivious to her shock. 

She rubs her face, cringing at the time Dustin tried to make breakfast on his own which was a complete disaster. How he managed to burn and undercook everything was beyond her knowledge. Oh, Dusty.

Then, she perks up again when her little bro is replaced by her mother. Her hair is tied back, and she’s wearing her kiss the cook apron. “Mom?”

// Hey, Ms. Henderson? //

Stephanie gasps quietly and spares a glance to the side where the entrance to the basement was. Just like she thought, she finds herself staring at a young Steve Harrington, probably about eight years old.

“Steve?” She said, taking him in. A little stripe button up shirt, shorts and small bandage on his cheek; He was also flashing a grin with a couple baby teeth missing.

// Yes, Steve? // Claudia said, not taking her eyes off the stove.

// Can we eat downstairs? Fia and I are almost done with our game //

Fia. Her heart clenched at the nickname she hasn’t heard in such a long time. I kind of… miss it. 

I mean, her brother calls her Phanie which was special to her, but that was something only he ever called her. And Steph was just a common nickname to call all ‘Stephanies’. However, Steve’s little nickname for her was really unique and special to her.

Apparently it was still special to her.

Some more was said but she didn’t listen, and before she knew it, little Steve was running back down the stairs. 

“Hey!” She shouts and chases after him. As soon as she gets off the last step she finds herself somewhere different again. She was met with a few flashing strobe lights, loud music and lots of laughter. She recognizes this place rather quickly, it was the roller rink they built in the mall a few years back.

// Steve! Stop! // Her preteen self yells, looking like a newborn colt on rollerblades. She was hanging onto dear life to her best friend who could not stop laughing at her over reaction. 

// You know you’re going to have let go soon // Steve says, as she shakes her head.

// Nope. No way. I don’t want to fall again //

// Falling comes with the practice, you know //

She sends him a look. // Easy for you to say. You haven’t fallen once! //

// What can I say? // He starts slowly pushing her away, only holding onto her hands for support. // I’m just a natural //

// Steve! Please! // She said, a mixture of panic and laughter. // Come on! //

He hums, acting like he was thinking before he lets go of one of her hands. // Oops //

// Steve! // She warns, and slouches a bit to keep herself small so she doesn’t slip.

// Relax, Fia. I wasn’t going to let you go // He replies, truthfully, warmly. // I’ll hold your hand until you’re confident enough. Okay? //

// You better, Harrington //

// I will. Relax. Here // He pulls her back, waiting for her to steady herself again before explaining. // This is what you have to do. First– //

Stephanie couldn’t help but smile. She loves that memory so much. It was so perfect in her eyes. The all American boy was the most elegant roller skater she’s ever seen, and he was so dorky and teasing, but patient while teaching her the ropes. She wishes sometimes she could go back to this day over and over again. I miss this so much. 

.

.

“Little Stevie here can’t protect you any more.”

.

.

And just like that, the scene changes again, only this time it feels more heavy and darker – like it was sucking the soul out of her. She felt so scared all of a sudden, and when she blinked she was sitting at a bar top. The smell of booze, money and cigarettes nearly knocked her over… and sent a chill through her body.

N-No. This was a painful memory she was trying to forget. What was she doing here? What was the point of–

“Are you not having fun, Munchkin?”

Now that voice almost made her die on the spot. Terrified, she slowly turns to her left, finding the only other person inside the place. He was rather tall, 

A bit lanky but built, dark hair and blue eyes. The genes that ran so strong in this family, the genes that her and Dustin hated they both had. And he’s sitting there with a stupid smirk on his bearded face, one that makes her want to crawl into a hole or slap off. She almost couldn’t speak as she felt like she lost her voice.

.

.

.

“D-Dad?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Jonathan’s bitter thoughts were pulled back into reality the early next morning by his own mother, who was helping him with his tie.

“Why are we sending daggers at our home phone?” Joyce asked, heavy makeup covering her exhaustion, a black jacket clings to her body that acted like her blouse. 

His gaze follows back to the phone before back to her. “I know we agreed not to talk to him at all, besides it being pointless because Will’s body is a fake, but still. He can’t even give us a call about his own son’s death?”

She finishes his tie, frowning out of sadness with a hint of hate for her ex-husband. “Well, another reason why I’m not with your father. This should be a lesson to you, don’t just settle for the first person that gives you attention, or makes your rebellious phase feel ‘special’. I know I’m not the best mother–”

“You’re the perfect mother.” Jonathan pushes, wholeheartedly. “I know it was hard, but for someone doing it on your own, you always made time for us, loved us, and did only what you thought was best. A thousand times more than whatever dad did. I just…” He gets a bit teary eyed. “I just wished I believed you in the beginning. Maybe things would have been different.”

Joyce chokes down her own sob. “Oh.” She brushes a tear from the corner of her eye. “You’re going to make me bawl.”

He quietly laughs. “Sorry.”

“And you know, I’m not upset that you didn’t believe me. I never was, and never will be. I am glad that you came around though.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She smiles. “Jonathan?”

“Yeah?” 

“Don’t… don’t do anything stupid, okay? We’re going to go to the funeral, act like we’re in mourning, and when everything is over, we’re going to figure this out. We’re going to figure out what really happened with you brother. Okay?”

He puts on a good smile and nods. “Okay.” Jonathan agrees with a heavy feeling. He knows he agrees, but deep down he’s not. He’ll pretend to grieve, pretend that he mourns his not-so-dead brother, he’ll pretend that he’s not going to do anything with going through his mom first. In reality, it’s the opposite. 

In reality, he’s about to do the stupidest thing in probably his entire life. 

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Claudia Henderson had to fix her make up for the fifth time already, and she hasn’t even left the house, almost too scared to even leave the door. She was sitting on the couch, a ball tissues in one hand and her baby’s photograph in another. She was shaking all over, trying to hold down more sobs. Her son eventually appeared, dressed in black, pretty curls brushed back neatly, and had a glass of water in his palm.

She looks up, watching him silently offering it. “Oh, thank you, honey.” She replies, gesturing for him to set it down. He does, and scoots next to her. 

Dustin can’t stand that his mom is this way, and half of him wants to blurt out that something about his sister’s and Will’s disappearance doesn’t seem right, and the bodies in the caskets had to be fakes, but he can’t. He can’t go off a theory that has barely any evidence still.

“Oh… look at her face. I’m going to miss her pretty face.” Claudia continues, touching the picture. “Her little curls, her freckles, her… beautiful blue eyes, those…”

Dustin’s heart clenched. “Dad’s eyes…”

“Oh, not him. Not his.” She shakes her head, batting her honey brown orbs. “No. You and your sister’s are so unique.” She reaches up to cup her son’s cheek, him leaning into the touch. “Hers is like a sky and sapphire, and yours is like this cross of sky, this pale blue and, uh…”

He gives her a goofy smile. “A light denim jean.”

That got her to laugh. “A light denim jean, yes. That’s… that’s perfect.” She then pulls him into a hug. “It’s going to be hard, but we’re going to get through this. Together.”

Suddenly Dustin felt the wind get knocked out of him. What if… what if he and his friends were actually wrong? What if they were just imagining everything? What if his big sister was actually dead? 

What if… she really is gone? He couldn’t stop himself from tearing up, a single stray rolling down his cheeks, clenching his sister’s necklace in the palm of his hand like it would make her appear in his arms.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Now you know who wasn’t ready for the funeral? I mean how could he when he just woke up in a cold sweat and a dazed look in his eye. Jim Hopper finds himself on his couch, still wearing the same clothes (minus the jacket) that he seemed to have sweated through most of the thin material. It didn’t take long for him to remember what happened last night and immediately bolted up. He takes in his coffee table, which to him seemed way messier than he left it (Plus, there were a lot more empty beer cans than he consumed over the few days).

Grabbing his gun that was right in front of, Hopper wastes no time to run outside with it held high. But as he searched the land that he was all alone on, he didn’t see anything or anyone out of the ordinary. He almost started to doubt that last night even occurred. 

Almost. That’s the keyword.

Coming back inside, he examines himself in the bathroom mirror, trying to find the needle marking in his neck. It took a hot minute, the doubt was coming back until his finger picked up the tiniest drop of blood. Now, the paranoia was setting in, and that’s when he started tearing his trailer apart. Anything he could get his hands on, pictures frames, light bulbs, home phones, stereo system, VHS player, cookie jars, anything was torn apart in his hands. He even went so far by cutting open his couch cushions with a knife. 

In a hot, sweating, panting mess, he was about to give up until he noticed he forgot to check his overhead light. Just tall enough to reach it on his own, Hopper carefully unscrews the fixture and that’s when he saw it.

The bug. 

Plucking it off so hard that the wires ripped, he examined it close, the disbelief came first, and ended with sheer anger.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

I guess you could say that Steve “snuck out” of his home, dressed appropriately in black attire, still thinking about what his next “detective” move could be. The funerals were being held together to make it emotionally easier for the families, and everyone in town was welcome to come. His parents wouldn’t have approved, anyone associated with them wouldn’t either, but I guess the “good” thing about coming to the graveyard is that he wouldn’t have to worry about any of them. The only person he knows that will be there is his girlfriend. Speaking of…

Nancy was quick to notice after getting out of the car herself with her family. She was honestly surprised a bit, but didn’t let that weigh her down as she excuses herself to come over.

“Steve?” She said, as he flicked her a sad smile. “How… how are you?”

“I’m… I’m good. Really, um–” He replies, fiddling with his hands. “How are you?”

“Fine.”

“That’s good. How’s your brother doing?”

“Mike?” She takes a quick glance back his way. “He’s coping, I guess. I don’t know. He’s been really quiet.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense.” Steve says, nodding slowly. “Listen, Nance, I wanted to apologize for how I reacted the other night.”

Nancy shakes her head. “Steve, it’s alright. I get it. You’ll tell me about the relationship with your parents eventually. I honestly really don’t care if you do or not. It’s not my business.”

“I know, but still. I got a little snappy and–”

“Steve, it’s fine. I get–”

“My parents don’t like her.” He blurts out, silencing her. He watches her tilt her head, waiting for him to elaborate. “My parents never… approved of my friendship with Stephanie. She wasn’t up to their… ‘standards’. So…” He sighs. “My parents are probably going to gut me when they find out I’m here.”

“Gut you?” She asked, worriedly. Was it really that bad for him to be here? “Friends or not, she still was a classmate, the least you can do is show up for a quick respect.”

“Yeah, they don’t see it like that. They…” His throat felt dry. Every time he starts remembering a few things about his past, his parents, he just feels like he’s going to shut down and hide. 

“Steve?” Nancy says, pulling him out of the rut. “They… what?” She needs to know more, she wants to know more. She didn’t like that he looked like a kicked puppy. What has his parents done to him?

“She wasn’t like Tommy or Carol, or even you. Steph was sweet and caring, but didn’t dress like a girl should, she didn’t talk like a girl should, she didn’t…” He laughs, a mixture of nerves and distaste towards his parents. “She likes heavy metal, she likes to wear black and stomp around in big combat boots, and she would always do the craziest shit I’ve ever seen. She wasn’t the girl my parents wanted me to hang out with because she wasn’t a ‘girly-girl’. She fits in with the school’s ‘freaks’.”

“Steve…”

“Sometimes… I miss it. I miss going behind my parents’ backs to hang out with her.” He says, sadly. “But I… I had to end it… for her sake.”

Well that’s news. She thought, piqued. “What do you mean by that?”

“I–” His attention was caught by someone else arriving. “I… I’m going to go pay my respects. I’ll catch up to you later, Nance.”

“‘Kay.” She mumbles, watching him leave with a heavy heart.

Steve makes his way over to the family he used to call his own; The mother gets out, in her own head, while the brother immediately stops in his tracks – looking like a deer in headlights upon seeing him. 

“Ms. Henderson.” He begins, getting her attention (His throat felt tight again and his chest felt like it was being kicked in). “I don’t know if you remember me. I’m Steve Harrington.”

“Steve?” It takes Claudia a moment to recognize him. “Steve! Oh, my gosh, I do remember you.” She smiles. “You’ve grown quite into a young man.”

Steve blushes a bit. “Uh, thank you. Um, listen I… I know your daughter and I had a bit of a falling out, but I thought it would be alright if I gave you my condolences. If you… approve that of course.”

“Oh, honey, I appreciate it. Friendships, I know, tend to end sometimes, and it can be hard. But I really do appreciate you coming.”

‘That’s good to hear.” He clears his throat and takes a step back. “I’ll be going now.”

“Oh, why don’t you stay?” She said, with her son perking up at the news.

“What?” Dustin said, a bit sharp for his mother’s liking.

“Dustin.” She turned and scolded. Her son gave her a shrug of disbelief, making her sigh. “Sorry. Do you mind staying for the wake? I think it would be nice if we can catch up.”

Steve was honestly lost for words. He’s guessing that Stephanie never actually told them what occurred… at least she didn’t tell her mother the truth. His gaze falls on Dustin who was pouting a bit and looking at the ground; The bitterness he probably had makes Steve wonder if he knew the truth. It was making him feel pretty shitty right now.

Jesus. If his mom wasn’t here I’m sure he would deck me by now. But Steve ignores this and just smiles. “If you insist, Ms. Henderson.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Jonathan, or course, ignores his mom’s pleas not to do something stupid. Him and Nancy had both stepped off to the side to discuss their findings, hoping to form some kind of plan of action. “This is where we know for sure it’s been, right?” He says, holding a small map of the area, some places marked with a red X.

Nancy leans in closer. “So, that’s…”

“Steve’s house.” He starts pointing out each mark and their meaning. “And that’s the woods where they found Steph’s car, and that’s my house.”

“It’s all so close.”

“Yeah. Exactly. I mean, it’s all within a mile or something. Whatever this thing is, it’s... it’s not traveling far.”

Nancy locks eyes with him, realizing what he was suggesting. “You want to go out there.”

“We might not find anything.” He admits with a shrug.

“I found something. And if we do see it… then what?”

He inhales. “We kill it.”

“Kill it?” She said, surprised. “Are you serious?”

“What? You want to find this thing and take another photo? Yell at it?”

“This is a terrible idea.”

“Yeah, well, it’s the best we’ve got.”

She shakes her head. “Jonathan–”

“What? You can tell someone, but they’re not gonna believe you. You know that.” He points out as she frowns.

“Your mom believed you.”

He averts his eyes from her. “She’s been through enough. It’s time for me to worry about this thing.”

“She deserves to know.”

“Yeah, and I’ll tell her when this thing is dead.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Dustin was leaning against the wall next to a table full of snacks and drinks, ruefully chewing on some knock off brand cookies. His daggers were set on Steve who was chatting with his mom for most of the wake now. He still can’t believe he even showed up, the same boy who broke his sister’s heart and reverted her back into a bit of a hermit. Now, he loves his sister, his friends do too (probably as much as he does), but he kind of felt sad that after being disowned by Steve she decided to hang out with them more. Times at the arcade she was always driving them; The past few Halloweens she’s been stuck with them; A few times a week at school they would sneak outside for lunch and have it together. It was sad that no one else wanted to hang out with his sister, and it made him mad in more ways than one because of it. 

Stupid ass people. He thought, taking another harsh bit out of the food.

“Uh, Dustin–” Lucas says, nudging him a bit. “Maybe try to be a little more subtle on the lasers you’re shooting out at Steve.”

Dustin doesn’t answer his question, instead replying with, “These aren’t real Nilla Wafers.”

“Alright enough about him for a moment.” Mike interrupts, and tries to be the reasonable one. “How do we do this?”

“Do what?” Dustin mumbled, turning and taking another handful of cookies, making his friend sigh.

As the boys were distracted a bit, Steve had finally finished the nice chat with Claudia. He almost forgot how sweet she was, and how he remembers he wishes his own mother was like that. It could explain why he was always over at Stephanie’s house when he was young (he kind of misses it). He excused himself for something to drink, only to accidentally wander into another conversation that couldn’t help but hearing. 

Mike sighs. “Mr. Clarke. We were going to ask him our questions about another dimension.” 

“Oh, right. Another dimension.” Dustin says, nonchalantly, his friends looking at each other with confusion. 

“What’s your deal, man?” Lucas asked, confused on the sudden attitude change (and both him and Mike know it’s not about Steve). 

“My deal is what if I’m actually wrong? What if they really are dead?” 

Lucas made a look. “Dude, I’m supposed to be the skeptical one here. And besides, you’re the one who told us about hearing Will over the radio.”

“This funeral must be messing with your head.” Mike points out. “Will and Steph are alive. Where they are, we don’t know. But we aren’t going to know if we don’t ask Mr. Clarke about dimensional travel.”

“Yeah, man. Don’t be so down yet.” Lucas pats him on the back, before pointing out something. “Look. There he is.”

The Wheeler boy makes the first move, looking a bit sluggish to suggest he was sad. “Mr. Clarke?” 

“Oh, hey there.” He says, sending them a bittersweet smile. “How are you boys holding up?”

“We’re in... mourning.” Lucas replies, pretending to be glum too.

“We were wondering if you had time to talk?” Mike asks, nervously.

“We have some questions.”

“A lot of questions.” Steve says out of the blue, shocking the kids who were not expecting this. As the kids looked like they were fishes out of water, Mr. Clarke was overjoyed to see him.

“Ah, Steven. I haven’t seen you in a while. My, you’ve grown to be quite the stud.” He replies, his ex-student bowing with excitement. 

“You flatter me. Uh… the boys here were sharing a few things with me that I couldn’t really answer.” Steve points out, still having no idea where this was going and hopes he doesn’t screw it up. “But uh, hey! I always remember you were a man of answers.”

That seemed to fuel the adult’s ego a bit and got him more excited. “Oh, well, I can certainly try. Uh–” He gestures to an open table. “Let’s talk.”

Mike sits and is the first to speak, “So, you know how in Cosmos, Carl Sagan talks about other dimensions? Like, beyond our world?”

“Yeah, sure. Theoretically.”

“Right, theoretically.”

“So, theoretically, how do we travel there?” Lucas asks, getting right into it.

“Ah.” Mr. Clarke nods. “You guys have been thinking about Hugh Everett’s Many-Worlds Interpretation, haven’t you?” 

The boys subtly glanced at each other, having no clue who he was talking about; Even Steve was trying to remember if he ever learned this when was young. But they shook their heads ‘Yes’, and went along with it. 

“Well, basically, there are parallel universes.” The teacher begins. “Just like our world, but just infinite variations of it. Which means there’s a world out there where none of this tragic stuff ever happened.”

“Yeah, that’s not what they’re talking about.” Steve blurts out, before realizing he spoke. “Right?”

“Y-Yep!” Mike said, nodding eagerly. 

“We were thinking of more of an evil dimension, like the Vale of Shadows.” Dustin replies, the anger disappearing for now. “You know the Vale of Shadows?”

Mr. Clarke’s face lights up a bit. “An echo of the Material Plane, where necrotic and shadow magic—”

“Yeah, exactly.” Mike butts in, quickly. “If that did exist, a place like the Vale of Shadows, how would we travel there?”

“Theoretically.” Lucas adds.

Mr. Clarke’s gaze locks with Steve’s, who just shrugs. “Hey, I told you I couldn’t answer their questions.” He says, rendering everyone silence.

The teacher took a moment to think this over. “Well…” He picks up an empty paper plate and takes out a pen, drawing two lines and a tiny stick figure on top of it. “Picture... an acrobat… standing on a tightrope.” He shows off his drawing to everyone, before holding in a position where everyone could see.

He continues, “Now, the tightrope is our dimension. And our dimension has rules. You can move forwards, or backwards.” He drew an arrow on each side of the figure. “But, what if… right next to our acrobat, there is a flea?” He draws a tiny insect next to it. “Now, the flea can also travel back and forth, just like the acrobat. Right?”

“Right.” They boys said, intrigued. 

“Here’s where things get really interesting. The flea can also travel this way…” He draws an arrow between the two lines. “Along the side of the rope. He can even go…” And another below it. “Underneath the rope.”

“Upside down.” The boys said, in unison (Steve just flashed them a confused look).

“Exactly.”

“But we’re not the flea, we’re the acrobat.” Mike asked, everything clicking in place. 

“In this metaphor, yes, we’re the acrobat.” 

“So we can’t go upside down?” Lucas asked, an undertone of concern.

“No.”

“Well, is there any way for the acrobat to get to the Upside Down?” Dustin asked, hopefully.

“Well…” Mr. Clarke jogs his brain. “You’d have to create a massive amount of energy. More than humans are currently capable of creating, mind you, to open up some kind of tear in time and space, and then…” He folds the plate in half, and aggressively pokes his pen through it. “You create a doorway.”

“Like a gate?”

“Sure. Like a gate. But again, this is all–”

“Theoretical.” Lucas says, almost rolling his eyes at how many times this word was repeated.

“But…” Mike shifts in his seat, another question lingering around. “But what if this gate already existed?”

“Well, if it did, I... I think we’d know. It would disrupt gravity, the magnetic field, our environment. Heck, it might even swallow us up whole. Science is neat. But I’m afraid it’s not very forgiving.”

The boys were left awestruck, all three of them looking at each other and agreed on something in silence.

“Wow, uh… thanks, Mr. Clarke.” Mike replies, standing up. “You, uh, really answered our questions.”

“Any time. Is there anything else I can help you with?” He asked, as they shook their heads.

“Uh, nope! W-We’re good. We’re, uh…”

“We’re off to grieve some more.” Dustin said, his friends agreeing.

“Yep. Thanks again, Mr. Clarke. See you at school.”

“Uh–” He watches his students leave, a little thrown off by the mood swings. “See you around.”

“I… better see what’s up with them.” Steve replies, taking a stand too. “It was nice seeing you again.”

“You too.”

Steve quickened his pace to catch up with the group that was now outside, a small part of him can’t believe what he’s about to do or say. “I didn’t know you guys felt the same way.”

“Why are you following us?” Mike asked, stopping with annoyance all over his face.

“Look, I didn’t mean to bud in, but it just so happens that you guys feel the same way I do about this situation surrounding Stephanie and Will.”

Lucas rolls his eyes for real this time. “Ignore him. He probably just feels bad.” He says, and they started walking away, wanting some time alone to think their plan over.

“No, guys, come on. Listen to me.” 

“Stop following us, man.”

“Guys, just a moment of your time–”

“Leave us alone.” Mike snaps harshly. 

Steve sighs heavily, the debating he felt was necessary was suddenly over and he finally lets it out. “Her body’s fake!”

And like pressing pause on a TV, the boys immediately stopped. It took them a moment, a solid moment to process what he’d just said before turning around and staring like he was crazy.

Dustin was the first one to speak, the fierceness he spoke with earlier had returned with a hint of disbelief. “What?”

Well there’s no backing down now. Steve thought, and went along with the punches. “I went to the morgue last night, with the Police Chief. Your sister’s and Will’s bodies are fake. I don’t know what’s going on, but whatever happened to them, someone doesn’t want people to know how, what or why.”

“You went to the morgue?” Lucas said, after another moment, to process what he just admitted.

“With the Police Chief?” Mike adds.

Dustin shakes his head, not sure how he feels about this. “H-How do I know you’re not lying? You’re the reason my sister was in a rut that whole school year.”

Steve frowns, apologetically. “Listen, I’ll admit I was an asshole, but despite that, I would never, ever lie about something like this. Even if someone I didn’t know, I would never snoop that low. And…” He shifts his weight around. “And if you don’t believe me, you can call the Chief yourself. Although, he’d probably be pretty mad because he told me to forget about what I saw. So…”

Forget being gutted by my parents later, he would definitely kill me on sight if he knew about this. Steve waits anxiously as the boys look at each other, mutely communicating like they were doing earlier. 

Lucas looks between them and shrugs (Even Mike does too, as Dustin looks a bit on edge still). “I think he’s telling the truth, man.”

“If he is, why bother?” Dustin asks, looking over at the teenager. “Your friendship’s been long gone with my sister.”

“Yeah, it has.” Steve admits, heart clenching again. “But it doesn’t change the fact that I know her, and when I found out the official ruling for her death, I knew something felt off.” His frown deepens. “I was going to do a little investigation on my own, until I overheard you boys talking about how you don’t buy any of this bullshit either.”

Although I’m still a little confused on the whole other dimension thing. But he kept his mouth shut for now as the boys looked at each other again.

“Can you excuse us for a second?” Mike said, turning around and pulling his friends into a huddle. “Listen–”

“No way.” Dustin says, putting his foot down.

Lucas sighs. “Dustin, look, I understand the hate for this guy, but either way, if we take him in or not, he’s going to be snooping around too. You know, you can’t beat ‘em, you join ‘em, right?”

“Plus, he is older, and he can get away with a lot more shit when things get tough for us.” Mike points out, and they all looked back at him for a second. “Come on, man. The more the merrier, you know?”

Lucas and Mike plead with Dustin with just a look, and soon he caves in.

“Fine.” He says, arms crossed. “But the moment he disrespects my sister, he’s out.” 

“Agreed.” Lucas said, and they disassembled.

“Hey, Steve?” Mike said, getting his attention. “You think you can come over to my house afterwards?”

-To Be Continued-

Read Part 2: Here

~

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[deepspacedukat]

The Lifeline - Part One: The Message

...Yes this is another plot bunny. Yes I still have a ton of requests to get out. It's fine. Blame the brainrot.

If anyone wants to be added to or removed from my taglist, please feel free to let me know.

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Vreenak (DS9) x Reader

[A/N: This will contain smut, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Spoilers for ST:VOY S1E7 "Eye of the Needle", references to Romulan politics, references to an interspecies relationship, Romulan/Human relationship, interspecies romance, threats, espionage, angst, time travel bs (it'll make your head hurt if you analyze it too much, or at least it made mine hurt), references to marriage/a mating bond.

~*~

**2367 - Stardate Classified, Late afternoon - Romulan Senate**

Listening to Sabrun drone on and on about the threat of the Federation-Cardassian peace treaty was usually something Vreenak would enjoy, but today, his head ached. He'd been in nothing but meeting after meeting for weeks on end, both for the Senate and the Tal Shiar, and the tedium was finally getting to him.

When was the last time he took leave? Years, most assuredly - before he was elected to the Senate seven years ago.

Wasn't that about how long Sabrun had been talking? Consciously straightening in his seat, he forced his shoulders to release some of their tension. He relished the opportunity to serve his people, to protect them, but he hated long-winded sessions like this.

A tap on the arm knocked him out of the deep, sinking morass of his thoughts, drawing his attention to the aide who'd approached him. He wore not the uniform of the government, but that of the Tal Shiar.

Elements bless Koval for saving him from such an utterly dull session!

Quietly, he gave the Praetor a deferential nod and slipped out of the Senate building. The fresh air caressing his face sent a bolt of relief through him. Even though he would likely not be allowed to rest for some hours, he couldn't find it within himself to be resentful. He did need to take some leave, no doubt, but for now, he'd gladly accept the moment's respite that his position with the Tal had just given him.

"Ah, the Chairman summoned you, as well?" Vreenak smirked at the sound of Letant's voice, and he slowed long enough for his friend to catch up.

"Luckily. I thought Sabrun would never shut up. He makes good points, obviously, but does he never tire of the sound of his own voice?"

Letant let out a tired chuckle of his own at Vreenak's ire, but both men were too relieved to be free to dwell on their frustrations.

"Any idea what this might be about, Mr. Vice-Chairman?" Letant's use of the title brought a genuine smile to the other man's lips. Vreenak had only earned it a year prior, and he was damned proud of his success. "Am I to finally be silenced for knowing too much about you?"

"Never, old friend. We may disagree on some points, but I value you too much to ever allow it to come to that." Vreenak murmured as they walked.

"Thank you for coming so promptly. I hope that I have not inconvenienced the Senate too much by pulling you both mid-session," Koval called the moment that the pair of Senators stepped into his office, shrugging off their outer robes. A smirk played across the Vice-Chairman's lips.

"You and I both know that inconveniencing others is one of your favorite pastimes," he called taking a seat before Koval's desk and allowing himself to sink into the cushioned chair with a relieved groan. Letant took the other. "I must thank you. One of our colleagues had become...tedious."

"You will not thank me in a moment." Koval's tone was graver than Vreenak had heard it in some time. Uh oh. That was always a bad sign. "What I am about to show you goes no farther than this room. One of the Empire's scientists - Telek R'Mor, Captain of the Talvath - died recently."

Vreenak's brow furrowed slightly, and Letant tilted his head.

"His family has our sympathies, but I, for one, fail to see the relevance," the latter remarked.

The Chairman stood and poured both of his guests generous servings of kali-fal.

"There was a data storage device found in his belongings. It was accessed, and the contents were...intriguing. You see, it contained personal messages from the crew of a Starfleet ship to their families," Koval continued, "a Starfleet ship that has not yet been built."

At that, Vreenak froze with his glass halfway to his mouth, and Letant's lips parted in surprise.

"They were messages from the future?" Vreenak hadn't meant to ask the question, but it slipped out anyway.

"Indeed, but that is not all. Computer, play visual message one-three-one-alpha," Koval ordered, and the screen before on the desk before the Senators lit up with the image of a woman - a Human woman.

Mentally, Vreenak acknowledged that she was actually quite pretty for a hevam.

"Hi, sweetheart. I know you're probably surprised to hear from me...after such a long silence, I mean. I doubt you'd write me off so quickly, but, well, I'm sure by now you've worked out that something is wrong." Vreenak glanced at Koval, not yet grasping the significance of this seemingly random message, but the Chairman simply nodded back at the monitor. Letant seemed intrigued by the woman on the screen. "It's been a few months since Voyager went missing, and while I can assure you that I'm physically alright, I...Vree, honey, we're stuck in the Delta Quadrant."

His eyes widened at a single syllable amongst the mess of her rambling. 'Vree.' Was...? She was talking to him? Why the hell would a Starfleet officer - a Lieutenant Commander, by the look of her rank pips - be contacting a Romulan Senator? He'd never seen her before in his life. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Letant look at him curiously, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

"We're doing everything we can to find a shorter way home, but it might take years," she admitted, and he noted that tears had slowly gathered in her eyes. "I understand if you want to petition the Praetor for an annulment. After all, it's not much use having a wife who's stuck in a whole other quadrant of space. But, I...I want you to know that no matter how long it takes, I will make it home to you. You're in my thoughts every day and night, deyhhan. I love you. Give Koval and Letant hell for me, okay?"

She blew a kiss to the camera just as a tear rolled down her cheek, and Vreenak set his glass aside just as the message cut off.

"Computer," Koval called, "display addressee for visual message one-three-one-alpha."

Vreenak's stomach clenched as he saw his own name and rank pop up on the screen along with the stardate on which the message was recorded - nearly four years in the future by the Federation's calendar, assuming his mental calculations were correct.

"Well, my friend, you seem to have gotten quite lucky. As far as Humans go, she seems delightful," Letant murmured as he downed his drink. "She's stuck in another part of the galaxy, of course, but she obviously cares for you–"

"This is a joke," Vreenak rasped, feeling anger bubble up inside him. She seemed to know about all three of them, but that couldn't be possible. "I've never even seen her before! Why would I marry a...a hevam?"

"I assure you, I would not have called you here if I had not already verified that this was not a joke," the Chairman stated, and he handed the Senator a data pad containing the results of the inquiry he'd conducted into the subject. An encrypted visual message from Telek R'Mor himself detailed the encounter he'd had with Voyager in 2351, including his logs, and even a covert visual recording he'd snagged from their communications with his ship. Apparently, the man had left instructions for the delivery of these personal missives, but his daughter had turned them over to the Tal Shiar as soon as she'd discovered that one of them involved three well-known Romulans.

A wise choice.

Farther down, he found a report on the woman in the message. She was a Lieutenant currently serving aboard a science ship. Having received high honors at Starfleet Academy, she also had several commendations on her record from various superior officers. There was no indication that she was involved with Starfleet intelligence or Section Thirty One, though.

How odd, given the circumstances. How else, hypothetically, would they have met if not through clandestine contact?

Koval was nothing if not thorough, and the fact that he'd already looked into this meant that there truly was no chance that this was a deception.

Vreenak had a wife. A Human wife. Or, at least, he might end up with a one at some point in the next four years.

Just in time to lose her to the Delta Quadrant.

"I take it you're interested in having this looked into, then?" Koval asked, and the sound of his voice spurred Vreenak into action. He downed the kali-fal he'd been served, then got to his feet.

"You're damned right, but I'll do it myself," the Senator said, straightening his tunic before donning his robes once more. "If this woman really did send a message from the future, then I need to know more about her. Her intentions, motives, possible schemes... This isn't just a mystery, it's a personal one."

"Of course. Do what you have to. I'll have transportation and an alias arranged, as well as a surgeon," the Chairman confirmed. "I trust you'll want a Vulcan persona to save time?"

"Naturally."

"Oh, and Vreenak?" Through Letant's opening inquiry, he could already hear the mischief in his voice. The man in question glanced back at him over his shoulder. "If you don't like what you see when you meet her, do feel free to send her my way. She is rather alluring."

The Vice-Chairman let out a gruff huff of laughter.

"Be careful what you wish for. I'm certainly not marrying a hevam, but if you're willing to debase yourself in such a manner, then by all means, have at her," Vreenak said as he strode to the door.

Pledge himself to a Human? Ha! He would never disgrace himself like that. His taste was much more refined.

~*~*~

Romulan words:

hevam = derogatory name for a human

deyhhan = husband

~*~

Taglist:

@akamitrani @android-boyfriends @attention-bajoranworkers @bigblissandlove1 @darkmattervibes @emilie786 @groovyqueer @horta-in-charge @live-logs-and-proper @slutty-slutty-vulcans @starrynightgardens @toebeans-mcgee

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

Movie Night

This is part two of my childhood best friends-to-lover anthology. I utterly hate this installment, but once again, I have to get it out, or it will stay in my drafts forever. The first people to get the reference can drop a request into my inbox for any character in my pinned post.

Contains: Fluff.

2.2K words

Your movie night tradition leads to more than popcorn.

More terrifying than The Exorcist. The Curse of Blackstone Lab."  

Sean huffed and pulled your attention from the shop front toward the bus stop poster. "What do you think about that y/n?" 

You shrugged. "I don't know. I'm pretty sure I've heard that slogan a million times." The picture did its best to keep everything a mystery, containing only a photo of a long, dark, dirty hallway, the tagline, and a title in blocky white letters.

"I heard they needed doctors at the test screenings." He often revelled in his ability to be in the know, to know the right people to get whatever he wanted, and this time was no different. "I know the producer, I think I might be able to get us an advanced copy."

Being back at the top had its benefits; the last time, it was front row seats to the latest opera. "I thought we were going to watch Red Eye this weekend?"

He gave you a look, it was full of mischief and affection. "You're not scared are you?"

You rolled your eyes. "No, I'm not. I've haven't be scared of a horror movie in years. I just don't want you getting caught up when we have to go buy you new suits." You could tell it was already too late, the wheels in his head were well and truly turning. "Sean, you are shit with colour, and I have a date tonight; you're not about to make a phone call."

He looped his arm around yours and yanked you to him. "Alright then, I can't have you late for your Monday night date with Mr tall, dark and boring."

There was a hint of something to his voice that gave you pause, a mix of annoyance and snippiness that let you know he disapproved. "Not boring, he's nice."

He huffed, and his mouth opened and closed like he had stopped himself from saying something before he took a deep breath and shook the thought away. "Well, when he bores you half to death you know where I live."

You nodded. "Thank you, Sean, I'll remember that. Now we need to hurry up."

He grinned and pulled you towards the store. "Whatever you want, I would be lost without your stylistic talents."

****

You sat at the restaurant waiting for your date, but seven turned into eight and then into eight-thirty, and it was clear he wasn't coming. You thought about going home, but Sean would be calling anyway, and there was no way he was going to let you marinate in your embarrassment all by yourself, it would be quicker and easier just to head right to his place.

Billy opened the door when you got there and pointed you upstairs. "He's been expecting you." You sighed and began your walk of shame, but Billy stopped you. "Are you good?"

You nodded. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

He titled his head. "Because Sean wanted to take the car and make sure your date went alright."

You shrugged. "You know Sean, he's always been overprotective of me. I'll tell him off when I get up there."

Billy nodded. "Like that will change anything. You look lovely by the way."

You gave him a smile. "Thanks Bill."

The door was open when you walked by, and Sean beckoned in with a smile. "How did your date go? Not well, considering that you're here."

You sighed. "It didn't, I got stood up."

There was no "I told you so." No, knowing smile or smug arrogance, he looked angry. "What a fucking coward, bastard doesn't even have the decency to call you, and you look so nice in that dress."

You put a hand on his bicep in hopes of soothing him. "I know" You took a deep breath before continuing, half to plan what you would say next and half to steel yourself from the pushback you knew you would get. "And Billy told me that you wanted to go and keep an eye and I've told a million times before I can look after myself."

He crossed his hands over his head, there wasn't an ounce of shame on his face. "I know that, but you're my friend, and like I said to you before, I didn't really like him all that much."

You smiled as he pulled you into a hug, his warm hands clutching you close. "Don't rub it in Wallace."

He chuckled softly, it was filled with warmth and affection. "You're better off anyway." You felt the hug tighten as the air changed. "Nevertheless, it's a good thing you're here, I have good news."

He broke from the hug and all but skipped to his desk, pulling out a non-descript disk. "I made a call just after you left me this afternoon and it was here by courier an hour later."

Your failed date was forgotten in an instant. "You got it?"

He nodded. "I did, and the producer said it's the scariest movie he's ever seen. So this Sunday, you, me, and a bucket of popcorn with the world's best butter?"

He was always so eager to spend time with you; it was hard to say no, even if you wanted to watch the other movie more. "Of course, it's our tradition."

****

You decided to stop by the bakery and get some cupcakes for tonight, and you felt a tap on your shoulder and spun around to see Billy standing behind you. "Hello."

You gave him a wave. "Hi, you look well."

He smiled shyly. "Yeah, things are good. What are you doing here?"

You pointed to the cupcakes inside the long glass display case. "Cupcakes for tonight."

He pressed his lips together, clearly trying to figure out if he should share the thought swirling in his head. "You got time for a coffee?"

You nodded. "Sure, I've always got time for you Bill."

It didn't take long for the coffee to brew, and you took your boxed cupcakes over to the table with him and sat down. "Now, what's on your mind?"

"Sean's in love with you. I'm pretty sure he has been since you guys were sixteen." He sipped his coffee like he hadn't just dropped a bomb the size of London on your head and nibbled the dry skin on his lower lip. "And let's be honest with ourselves y/n, I think the feeling is mutual."

You blinked, unsure what to say and taken aback by how blunt he was. "Wow, what makes you say that?" You were met with a raised eyebrow and a pointed exhale. "Yeah, ok, so I've been doing a shit job at hiding my feelings since everything that happened with Elliot and the crown, but he's back at the top, and I'm not going to complicate his life anymore by spilling my guts."

He nodded, almost to himself, wrapped his hand around the top of his cup and stood up. "Good talk y/n."

He was walking away before you could respond, and you yelled after him. "Are you just going to leave me here to sit in it?"

He turned his head towards you, still moving away. "Yep."

"It doesn't matter anyway, I have a date next week and I'm going to it." If he heard you, he didn't let on.

****

You pulled the white bakery box from your bag and smiled. "Are you ready to be terrified?"

He grinned and took the box from your hand, placing it on his desk before opening and looking over the sweet treats. "They look delicious." He handed you the one with the most icing and lifted his own.

He leaned back in his chair, glanced from the iced cake to you and back again, then picked it up and held it aloft, "To friends in high places."

He removed the wrapping from your cupcake and placed it in the empty box along with his own, then threw the box in the trash. Sighing, he stood up and said, "Would you like to stay the night? Mum's making pancakes in the morning. You don't need to leave when the movie's done."

There was no reason to say no, one of the many guest rooms was basically yours, housing your clothes and toiletries, even monogrammed towels that you received as a birthday gift one year. "Sure."

****

The position you were in was a common one, next to Sean on the couch in the movie room with a blanket thrown over your laps as he set the movie up. "I have another date next week, not with the same guy, and this one has an interesting job."

He pressed his lips together and nodded. "Ah, well I hope this one goes better."

You shrugged. "Who knows, if this one doesn't the next one will."

The lights in the room dimmed as the movie started, and you leaned into him as you started in on the popcorn. It started slow, the steady building of dread and the total uncertainty of whether the villain was a person, a demon or all in someone's head. They were right, it was scary, and Sean seemed to enjoy the way you slowly pulled the blanket closer to your face as you squished yourself into him. 

The second you thought you could relax, the thing hiding in the shadows the whole time finally came out, and you jumped out of your skin to his amusement. "Are you scared?" 

You shook your head. "No, it was just a loud noise." 

He laughed and shot you a look that told you he didn't believe you one bit. "You sure?" 

"Positive." You took a deep breath and sat up a little straighter, turning back to the screen as his arm pulled you impossibly closer. You did your best to relax, but it was nothing short of impossible, if this thing didn't win Best Picture at the Oscars then horror didn't stand a chance because the moment you thought you were safe, it was right back to the terror. 

You managed one more scare before you flinched again, and Sean was pausing the movie with a sigh. "You are scared." 

You sighed and twisted in his arms to face him. "So maybe I am just a bit." 

He smiled softly. "Don't worry, I won't let the monster get you." 

You nodded. "I know, I know you'd never let anything happen to me." 

There was a shift in the air, like the first change in the wind before a storm, and he went to say something else, but something stopped him. Your hand was still curled in his shirt from when you grabbed him, and as he looked at you in the blue lighting from the film, a feeling grew inside him. "What?" You gave him a look and a light shove and repeated yourself. "What?" 

He wasn't sure what to say, he couldn't tell you how he was feeling, that the butterflies that seemed to live in his chest whenever you were around had suddenly started to flutter so violently that he was sure they were bruising the fascia of his ribs.

You shoved him again to no effect, and he laid his hands on top of yours, they were warmed and calloused, and he was looking at you strangely. "Don't go on that date." 

You tilted your head. "Why?" It was such a sudden change of tone, but before you could press for more, his expression set firm like he had finally made an important decision, and then his lips were on yours. 

Oh, that's why

The moment you got over the shock, you sunk into the kiss, his lips were plump and soft, and he kissed you the way a drowning man begged Thetis for air. You broke from the kiss, and his lips followed yours as you backed away until you placed a hand on his chest. "What are you doing?" 

He pecked you again, and you couldn't help but let him. "I love you y/n." You wondered if Billy had talked to him like he had spoken to you. "I love you, so you can't go on that date or a date with anyone else who isn't me ever again because I don't know if I can survive the thought of you with anyone else." 

You lifted your hand to his cheek and ran your thumb over his freckled cheekbone. "Ok, but only if you kiss me again." He was happy to oblige, and you found yourself slowly moving onto your back as the kiss deepened. 

He was smiling against you, and his teeth found your lower lip in a soft bite before he pulled back. "Does this mean you return my affection?" 

You laughed and kissed an apology on his cheek at your lack of reciprocation. "Yes, it is returned whole heartedly. I love you Sean." 

He sat up and took you with him, and you wrinkled your eyebrows, but before you could say anything, he turned the movie back on and yanked you back into your previous position against him. "I would like to finish the film." 

His eyes were glinting with mischief, and his hand was slowly making its way up your leg. "You're being a tease." 

He leaned in close, his eyes still on the screen as he whispered into your ear. "Consider it payback coming here on Monday in that dress." 

Fin

@daydreaming-belle @lovemissyhoneybee @darklydeliciousdesires

[veo-queenofcards]

⚠️CONTENT WARNING⚠️

Suicide is implied, cannabilism implied (not actually shown), Self harm is mentioned, eyestrain, body horror(?) and disturbing images in general. Its also a long post.

I decided to see if I could decipher what the messages behind monster 4 (my personal favorite, I call him rex, like t-rex) was saying, and came up with these. The dark blue is what I can make out, light blue is my own guessing.

The most obvious, "I MUST CONSUME".

Links to a lifehack quote website?? (This I found on the wiki).

"What do you think you're looking for?" This was also pointed out on the wiki.

"THEY NEED ME TO FEED THEM I HAVE TO CONSUME OR THEY WILL SCREAM" I put scream because in the actual readable death quote in mentions the "dark worms" "screaming" to be fed.

"THEY ARE IN MY HEAD AND TO REMOVE THE HUNGER(?) THEY CONTROL ME TO FEAST PLEASE KILL ME" (I'm not to sure about "hunger" to be honest but I don't know what else would go there. Ideas?) So this image is often referred to as Rexs suicide note by others, which, concerning what we know happened to him, is a decent assumption, but I think it's more his human mind buried deep inside trying to break through, albeit in vein.

I couldn't find anything in these images, tho they do look hospital-y.

Finally, the last image is of a group of people. I've found that people tend to either see this as his family or his doctors, either way is upsetting since we don't have the context.

The images paint a destrubing picture of someone who is taking a back seat in his mind, yet is aware of what he is doing, and feel he has to give in to his dark thoughts or he will be in more "tormoil", weather that be through eating himself (you can see it on his hands being boney, indicating he chewed his fingers), or eating others.

[gghostwriter]

Entangled Strings of Fate

Chapter 4. Re-routing (take the long way home)

Spencer Reid x FOC

Summary: Caltech, Pasadena - Cleo considers herself a woman of logic. With an IQ of 158 and an eidetic memory, how could she not. But meeting Spencer, the boy genius to hers, had her believing in intangible theories like the invisible string and the fates. Now, if only he would notice the depth of her feelings. Set in Caltech, pre-season 1 and will progress from there.

A/n: trying to figure out the writing schedule for both my fanfics out is a bit hard, not going to lie. The writing style and pace for both seems too different for me so please bear with me as I try to figure out which days are for which fanfic and which days are for posting.

Also, here is a link to the sister paintings that I referred to in this chapter. It’s titled ‘Digame’—second to the last painting

previous chapter || series masterlist || next chapter

“There is no such thing as an accident; it is fate misnamed.” - Napoleon Bonaparte

The BAU was back in full swing. Spencer was called back with Gideon three weeks ago for a series of murders in Seattle. That meant she was also back in almost self-isolation with her classes and readings. She filled her days with endless past case studies and her nights with her sister, Thalia via phone call. 

“Please Cleo, come visit me over the weekend here in California,” Thalia pleaded for the nth time. She was currently in her final year at USC, taking up Accounting and Finance.

“Alright alright, I’ll book a flight but you promise to show me around okay,” she sighed. They couldn’t have been more opposites of each other. Thalia was more go with the flow while she needed structure. “You have to promise me that you won’t ditch me like the last time.”

Thalia laughed. “I promise, I swear.”

——— 

“I know you just got here a few minutes ago and you’d like to settle down first—” Thalia started on once she picked Cleo up from the airport. Her flight landing just past 4pm. “—but my friend invited me to an art gallery opening and I’d really, really like you to go with me, please, pretty please.”

Cleo turned her head to the driver’s seat and grimaced. She loved Thalia with all her heart, she really did, but her spontaneity was giving her a whiplash every time. 

They look a like, down to their eye color and height. But that was where the similarities end. Thalia had this air of freedom in her that Cleo never had. She thought maybe it came from the burden of her intellect but Thalia wasn’t lagging behind her at all, she was bordering gifted spectrum just like her. If Cleo was being honest, she was a little bit jealous of how free her sister seemed even though her decisions were chosen for her. 

“Are you sure you’d want me to go with you? You know it’s not really my scene,” Cleo stared out into the window. 

“I’m sure and that’s why I’m asking you to go with me! To get you out of your comfort zone once in a while.” 

She sighed. “Okay alright, but you owe me a mean breakfast tomorrow,”

“Deal.” 

———

She wished she had said no instead. Seeing a beautiful woman flirting with Spencer was enough to dampen her spirits.

“Isn’t that your friend, Spencer?” Thalia pointed out of the blue. “Should we go say hi?” 

Her green eyes widened as she took note of him in the gallery. What were the odds that they would be in the same state or even the same art gallery for that matter. She was about to agree before noticing his acquaintance introducing a beautiful blonde woman to him. 

“Oh hey, that’s Lila Archer,” Thalia gave her sister a reassuring look. “She’s a local star of sorts here in L.A.”

She stared at the sister paintings in front of her with intense scrutiny. It was an abstract painting filled with deep colored brush strokes against a pale blue grey background. The art felt unassuming and inconspicuous. It wasn’t the most eye catching work out of all the canvases  displayed but like a train wreck about to happen, she found herself not able to look anywhere else. It gave visualization to the gnawing in the pit of her stomach. Murky and dark with the emotion. A sense of dread cloaking her every being, unsure of where it was coming from. 

She took a sip of champagne and looked around for a glimpse of him once more. He was gone.

She took a deep breath and read the title and the poem accompaniment.

Digame, which means ‘Tell Me’ in Spanish. 

The poem goes:

Tell me about the first person you loved. Tell me about how they loved you and you loved them. How you stopped and why…

oh. 

Oh. 

OH.

The truth has come up to the surface. The truth that she had been subconsciously been pushing to the deep corners of her mind and heart. Her balance felt off-kilter with the revelation. Like her world came to a screeching halt and started spinning in the right direction. 

She was in love with him. Probably since the beginning. 

Her initial intrigue with Spencer Reid has turned and become a highly flammable substance for her beating heart. It had become love that is now burning deep maroon with flickers of black with the knowledge that he was not hers. That he was a single man not immune to a pretty woman’s attraction and attention. 

Frankly, she didn’t know what to do with this life altering revelation. 

———

“Hey, are you okay?” Thalia asked on the cab ride back to her apartment. “You’ve been quiet this whole time. Is this about what we saw?” 

Shee looked out the window, watching the city lights and night life. “Do you think I should I have bought that painting from the gallery?” 

Thalia scrutinized her. She was never one for the art and having her asked that threw her off balance. “I guess if you really like it. I mean Mom and Dad would be happy seeing you spend money on, and I quote, the finer things in life—”

“—but is this really about the painting or is this about Spencer?”

She twiddled with her hands. “Can you ask your friend for the painter’s information? I’ll pass along to Mom for the painting. I think I’d like to have that hung in my apartment back in Virginia.”

Thalia sighed. She knew there was no use in trying to pry her thoughts and emotions, she’ll reach out when she’s ready. 

“Sure, so what do you want for breakfast?” 

“Pancakes would be great,” she softly smiled. 

———

Her flight back to Virginia was scheduled at 6am. An ungodly hour as Thalia repeatedly commented on.

“That’s a good book to pass time,” the stranger on the plane next to Cleo commented on.

He was handsome, she noted. Dirty blonde hair effortlessly pushed back and a set of deep blue eyes that seem to hold intellect with a hint of somber behind them. 

“You’ve read it before?” She asked, showing the full East of Eden cover to the stranger.

“Yes, a few times actually,” 

“Can I ask what your favorite part was?” She extended her hand. “I’m Cleo, by the way.”

He reached out his hand, shaking hers. “Joe, Joe Thompson. And to answer your question, it’s when Abra tells Cal that she loves him,”

Cleo smiled. That was one of her favorite parts too. 

“I think I love you, Cal” 

“I’m not good”

“Because you’re not good” 

“I liked that part too, it gave thought that we are all imperfect beings capable and deserving of love,” she rambled. “It felt humanizing that Steinbeck put that thought into words way before and that it can still be adapted to the modern society—I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“It’s alright, I thought it was very cute,” he smiled. “This may be out of the blue but would you like to get lunch together in Virginia? I mean, you can say no—”

She zoned out for a bit, remembering the tabloid magazine at the airport earlier that featured Lila & Spencer. 

“—it’s just that I live in Virginia and I could show you around if you’re just visiting for a little while—”

Maybe this was kismet, she thought. Maybe this was the universe giving her an obvious sign of what was meant to be.

She found herself nodding along before responding. “I’d like that and I am from Virginia.”

Joe smiled and she felt a little bit lighter. 

Maybe it is kismet.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 219

Soooo.... as much as I love @baelpenrose, @writing-with-olive, @quantumizedinsanity, and many others for creating and beta reading this, I want to give a super extra special shout out to @lwgph and @freakfagot for very kindly letting me know that I completely skipped chapter 219 when I posted 220 last week.

And since 220 actually references events that happen in this chapter, I am looping around and posting it this week. Thank you both, so so much, for catching that.

Parvati still had not returned to work two days later, and I had just received a message that morning from Xiomara that she was requesting a leave of absence.  As worried as I was, I probably would have done the same thing, so the leave had been granted, open-ended.  There wasn’t much work to be done, anyway - all of the focus currently was on preparing for landfall, and jobs were locked in.  Hannah and I could handle living space allocations, easily.

All of which did absolutely nothing to calm my worries as I poked at a vegetarian curry in one of the mess halls.

“I am reasonably certain it has given up fighting back,” a deep voice rumbled from behind me. 

I turned halfheartedly to greet Jokul and invite him to take a seat. “Got a lot on my mind and no convenient crisis to distract me,” I admitted.

“Such is normally the human condition. Or so I am told.” He winced as he chewed a mouthful of pasta. “That is not what squash should feel like.”

“Apparently we ran out of food stock on butternut squash really quickly.” I sighed and gave up, pushing my food toward him. “Appetite’s off.  It’s gobi masala, help yourself.”

He shook his head gently. “I do not enjoy cauliflower, but thank you.” After a moment of consideration, he set his fork down. “Would you like to talk about it?”

“Wish I could,” I sighed. “But it’s not my story to tell. A friend of mine is going through a lot right now, and wants some space. Given what they just confided to us about their past, I don’t blame them and it isn’t a situation where I can really push, you know?”

“I take it this friend is not of the variety to spar? I have not seen any new faces lately.”

“Definitely not the sparring type,” I confirmed. “That’s kind of what set everything off.”

He nodded in realization. “The situation with our escorts, I take it.”

I groaned and dropped my forehead onto my hands. Peeking between my fingers to see his reaction, I asked in defeat “Do you think we made a rash decision?”

“From what I understand, no.  They believe we are inferior and wish to force us into that mold, correct?”

“Mm hmm.”

“We lack the martial capacity to fight directly, and allowing them to remain would instill sufficient paranoia that they need not take any action to divide us. But that is simply my belief.  I take it that your friend believes differently.”

I nodded, head still propped on one hand as it had been so frequently lately. “They want us to find a more peaceful solution, or at least try something else before we go straight into the splodey parts.”

“Did they have such a solution to suggest?”

“No one has, as far as I can tell. That’s the problem. And with this person, it’s more complicated because of their past.”

“Not a cryptic phrase at all,” he teased gently before trying another bite of the pasta. “It is less objectionable when congealed, which is a terrible realization.”

That at least got a snort from me. “Some foods are like that. But we’ll have fresh food again before too long. They’re trying to conserve root stocks of everything that we are going to be growing on Von, and rather than waste everything else, we are using it up the best we can.”

“This cannot be the best use of these ingredients. I refuse to believe such blatant deceit.”

Another snicker. “That filling probably came from the console, if the texture is that bad. We were just talking the other day about how most console vegetables have the wrong texture. It doesn’t help - like, at all - that everyone likes them to be cooked to different degrees.  From what Miys told me, the console basically takes an average and uses that.”

“A case in which no one wins,” he sighed dramatically. “But it does explain whatever this is.”

“Not everyone likes curry as much as I do,” I pointed out. “Otherwise, that would be the perfect solution.”

“You are correct. I rescind my objection, although I am going to strongly recommend they do not use the five tons of beets I have been harvesting as borscht.”

“Five tons? That’s…. A lot of borscht.”

“It could likely be better used as a reasonable amount of borscht, roasted beets, and a substantial amount of sugar,” he stated firmly.

I wasn’t going to argue. Instead, I flicked open my datapad and made a note to contact Grey and Xiomara about the idea. “Noted. And thank you. I like the resource distribution side of you, by the way.”

“I am certain Farro has made it clear: an unfortunately large part of being a warlord in the After was gathering and managing resources. It is all well and good to have someone attend to it for you, but one should always have a close eye on everything to avoid abuse.” As if to make his point, he shook a ravioli at me. “Beets are easy, everyone likes sugar. Making war is harder.”

His statement brought me back to the reason I was sulking as far from my office as I could get. “I already know what Arthur would do in this situation: he made it very clear to Charly that he only suggests we wait until we are on planet so that the GC doesn’t feel the need to send new escorts. But what would you do, knowing that not everyone agreed with a decision?”

“Anyone in our settlement was allowed to object to any decision we made, provided they were able to suggest an alternative. And then everyone would vote, in most cases. The only exception was generally when a decision needed to made quickly, such as a disaster or an attack.”

I blinked several times, skeptical. “It can’t be that simple.”

“Truthfully, it is not. Wrong decisions can still be made, but emotional ones were less likely when the person objecting had to provide the alternative rather than just objecting.”

“Thank you. For that, and for the beets.” I stood, picking up my half eaten food. “I’ll talk to the Council, see about opening a poll to the Ark.  It will need to have a time limit on it - we land sooner rather than later.”

“Our people need opportunity, not time,” he shrugged. “If I have learned anything, it is that.”

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[troutfur]

On Skillful Means and the Higher Purpose of Fiction

So, in case y'all don't know, I'm a Buddhist. I have been involved with the religion on and off for like half a decade by this point so I know a fair bit and it has colored my perspective. But I did not formally take refuge in the triple gem and take the five lay precepts until November last year.

As part of deepening my practice and getting serious and constant with it, I decided to participate in Sravasti Abbey's retreat from afar and part of my commitment for that is at least one session of analytic meditation daily. The practice, unlike the more stereotypical view of meditation as "emptying the mind" is all about reflecting on a point of Buddhist teaching and relating it to one's life in order to see first-hand the teaching's validity and changing one's deep-seated mental attitudes.

And influenced by my previous reblog regarding whether or not stories need to have a meaning a lot of thoughts sneaked in regarding how I relate my writing to my worldview and my own sense of higher purpose as a Mahayana Buddhist: to eventually, after many lifetimes, become a Buddha.

So, let me dump on y'all these ramblings in lieu of writing them down by hand on my meditation diary.

Before I go further let me set the groundwork here: what is a Buddha? A Buddha is someone who has achieved the end of all suffering and realized the full potential of their true nature. This is done by eliminating all mental defilements, perfecting all positive mental qualities, and mastering all forms of teaching others how to become like them.

That third one is what interests me most for this post. While in Mahayana Buddhism it is thought that first one, and to an extent that second one, are achievable within a small amount of lifetimes, the fourth one is what really makes the path to Buddhahood take a long, long time. For a bodhisattva (Buddha-to-be) to achieve that mastery over all methods of teaching, often referred to by the Sanskrit upaya or its English translation skillful means, they must live through many, many lifetimes so they can have the first hand experience of what it's like to be several kinds of sentient beings of all 6 types.

And to me that resonates a lot with what I want to convey with my fiction! I want it to be a window for both myself and others to imagine what life is like as a person we are not from their own perspective. In this way my fiction can be seen as a form of training in upaya in this very lifetime, an upaya for teaching myself and others upaya if you will.

I am not aiming with my fiction to argue a Buddhist worldview, although it will inevitably show through, especially as I deepen in my practice and become more rooted in it. I still think that arguing through fiction is ineffective and if that were my goal I'd be an essayist. But rather my initial goal and perspective of fiction as an exercise in empathy is very compatible with my developing understanding of Buddhadharma and my aspiration of eventually realizing Buddhahood.

[songsforthepierce]

Odd Tracks: Emo Kid - Adam and Andrew

So as I decided to not review a certain gamer song by a musician who gets into twitter fights with anyone critiquing him since I didn’t want to give him more attention (as of now, I may want to make a post talking him and making a bigger point about his behavior but I want to wait awhile for that). As I heard his early discography one of his songs unlocked a long buried memory within me, “This song reminds me of Emo Kid for some reason”.

Content warning/trigger warning for light discussions/mentions of self harm, homophobia, transphobia, mention of lgbtphobic slurs and use of, suicide, and eating disorders. I get this is a stupid comedy song but I don’t want to ruin someone’s day, all right?

I don’t really remember how I originally found this song but I probably found it in an amv or something. This song is very much a time capsule in subject matter, the sound, and how it handles said subject matter. This is a comedy song about well the emo scene at the time. The song did came out in 2006 after all. The first half is dumb but does give me a light smile. It feels like a parody song I would find on youtube. The “Blood Red Romance” is so clearly meant to be My Chemical Romance. It is just poking fun at the subculture with the look, the moody stereotype, an-

I'm an emo kid Non-conforming as can be You'd be non-conforming too if you look just like me I have paint on my nails and makeup on my face I'm almost emo enough to start shaving my legs Cause I feel real deep when dressing in drag

Wait, what was that last line? Was that meant to refer to the fact that there were guys in the emo community who would come off effeminate to androgynous or-

I call it freedom of expression Most just call me a fag Our dudes look like chicks and chicks look like dykes Cause emo is one step below transvestite

OH, well then...casual homophobia and transphobia sure was a lot more common in 2006 (not saying it still isn’t around but you know what I mean). ..this part really did not age well. Which like I know comedy songs have a 50% chance of either aging fine, to somewhat okay, or just not well at all. The fact these two straight (as far as I know) guys just casually said fag, dykes, and transvestite is...making me concerned if outside the song they would just use it regularly back then.

I'm dark and sensitive with low self-esteem The way I dress makes everyday feel like Halloween I have no real problems But I like to make believe I stole my sister's mascara Now I'm grounded for a week

The last two lines are funny I will give it that. But okay, like the part I understand that it is meant to be making fun of like emo teens and how they “don’t have any real problems” which I do remember that critique from back then. Though most emo kids i knew when I was an emo teen myself came from neglectful, dysfunctional, to abusive homes...sooo uhhhh...

Sulking and writing poetry are my hobbies I can't get through a Hawthorne Heights album without sobbing Girls keep breaking up with me It's never any fun They say they already have a pussy They don't need another one

Oh god, I can literally feel this aging badly as the song goes on. Also wait, why did they make a parody name for MCR but then said the actual band name for Hawthorne Heights? I know the earlier part of the song was like making a joke about how edgy the names of emo bands can be but actually you know what? I don’t care. I am moving on to the more important part which is the whole making fun of a guy for being effeminate which oh boy was that a common thing people made fun of emo for. 

Stop my breathing and slit my throat I must be emo I don't jump around when I go to shows I must be emo

You know it is hard getting back into this verse as a reoccurring part of the song when I keep getting hit by lines and verses that make me recoil in my seat. Also, the suicide imagery I know is meant to reference how emo had a huge stereotype of depression and people being suicidal when like were there people in the scene who were depressed and were suicidal? Yes. I think there is a better way to like bring up how there were people in the community who romanticized such but I don’t think the song was going for that. Also this is not the only references to suicide in the song with the line, “ I play guitar and write suicide notes”

My life is just a black abyss.. Ya know It's so dark

You know I would find this more funny if I just wasn‘t still recovering from how badly aged this song is turning out to be. Was I expecting this song to actually age well? Not really, but I didn’t think it was like this.

And it's suffocating me Grabbing a hold of me And tightening its grip Tighter than a pair of my little sister's jeans Which look great on me by the way When I get depressed I cut my wrist in every direction Hearing songs about getting dumped gives me an erection

I know the “Tighter than a pair of my little sister’s jeans” is meant to reference how skinny a lot of the guys in the scene would be. Like concerning skinny. I won’t deny there was fatphobia in the community and there were people in it who had eating disorders. Yet another jokey reference to self harm-Wait...what was that last line?

I write in a live journal And wear thick rimmed glasses

Wasn’t the thick rimmed glasses more of first wave to at the least second wave emo? Like really early emo? I guess that type of emo was still around. Also, I am surprised they didn’t say myspace since a lot of emo kids did use that and I tend to associate myspace with the emo era. I guess I should be grateful this part has nothing really bad in it. Like I know the two lines afterward are about the narrator telling his friends he bleeds black and cries in classes which okay whatever. I don’t care. But knowing this song when something bad happens-

I'm just a bad, cheap imitation of goth You can read me 'Catcher in the Rye' And watch me jack off I wear skin tight clothes while hating my life If I said that I like girls I'd only be half right

Oh here we go! Okay so there were goths and non-goths at the time who called emo that. There was also emo people who called emo teens and those who were more into Hawthorne Heights, My Chemical Romance, and other popular emo pop punk “mall emo” similar to how there were goths who called goth kids into musicians suck as Rob Zombie, Marilyn Manson (eugh), Slipknot, and such as “mall goth”. Also, yet again another weird reference to getting turned on by suffering. I know the singer is comparing the narrator to the main character of the book as both are seen as whiny when like the whole point of the book is it is about a teen going through a really shitty situation and not coping with trauma well. Oh and the narrator I guess is meant to be bi? Diversity win or loss or whatever.

I look like I'm dead and dress like a homo I must be emo Screw Xbox I play old school Nintendo I must be emo

Another casual homophobia moment I see. Also, what is with the Xbox and old school Nintendo line? Was that actually a thing in emo? Was that part of the subculture? Because I don’t remember that part when I dressed emo to light goth as a teen. Maybe it was and I just somehow I missed that.

Me and my friends all look like clones I must be emo

You know this could be a good critique on how even though emo is suppose to be nonconformist similar to goth but the people in both expect you to look a certain way so therefore everyone looks the same. But little bit too late on that and I think there are better people who could critique this.

My parents don't get me ya know They think I'm gay just because they saw me kiss a guy Well, a couple guys But still, I mean it's the 2000's Can't two or four dudes make out with each other without being gay? I mean, chicks dig that kinda thing anyways

Oh my god we couldn’t ended without yet another homophobic shit. I was about to ask how much longer this song was but it actually isn’t that long when thinking about it...but I feel like 3:03 is too long for this.

I feel like tacos

Look, I am sorry last line of the song where I almost typed “like” as “liek” you cannot save this song.

Well this song was...something. I remember I would listen to it as a teen and didn’t have a problem with it...but I was a stupid edgy teen so there’s that. Like again, I didn’t expect this being good when I went back to it in 2023 as an adult. I knew even back then the song was dumb but saw it as silly dumb. But now I am just like, “Wow, this song sure is a time capsule of the era”.

During my search for the song I did find the musicians official youtube channel where they posted their performance of the song and I found their facebook page. Oh and their myspace page. They haven’t been online in a long time. That or just don’t really post much nowadays. You know, I do wonder how they look back on this song or any of their other music since 2006? Also, there is a different version of this song where the beat is replaced with sounds from super nintendo. I remember in existed but I can’t find it. Like, I could look deeper but I really don’t care enough to at this point. This was certainly a song and I don’t know if I could recommend this to anyone. I mean, I guess if someone wanted a small window view of how the general public to an extent saw emo during the time period well here you go. This song has not aged well and I didn’t expect it to but there is a lot of this where I am just like “This song could be taken as a very mean spirited joke towards the community”. This was very certainly a song and no wonder I hadn’t listened to this since high school.

[mxacegrey]

I posted 442 times in 2022

26 posts created (6%)

416 posts reblogged (94%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@honeybeezgobzzzzz

@sehnsuchts-trunken

@specialagentlokitty

@dotieeee

@tarafications

I tagged 202 of my posts in 2022

#the darkling x reader - 38 posts

#aleksander morozova x reader - 33 posts

#shadow and bone - 27 posts

#the darkling - 27 posts

#general kirigan x reader - 26 posts

#the sandman - 20 posts

#aleksander morozova - 20 posts

#doctor who - 18 posts

#morpheus x reader - 18 posts

#dream of the endless - 17 posts

Longest Tag: 98 characters

#christmas-themed episodes at times; but not a /real/ 'christmas special' like a lot of uk shows do

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Ring Mayhem

@imagining-in-the-margins

Prompt: [Hotch] Jack is the ringbearer and he informs the bride/groom that he’s lost the ring… a couple hours before the wedding.

Summary: 4 hours until the moment your wedding starts... Only the rings seem have gone missing.

A soft whimper from the other side of the door had your head turn sharply. With slow steps, you walked to the door and opened it slowly.

“Jack?” You questioned as you saw a teary-eyed Jack Hotchner at your door. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m- I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to...” Jack said, lower lip trembling. 

“What’s wrong, Jack?” You asked, crouching down to sit next to Jack. Your arm sat over his shoulders as you pulled him closer to you.

“Daddy’s ring...” Jack said, hiding his face into your chest. Your hand began to thread through his hair as you soothed him. “I lost it, Y/N.”

“Jack...” You whispered, tearing up not just because Jack was in tears but because the rings were missing.

“It was in my pocket and I was talking to Henry and Uncle Spence.... And I couldn’t find it!” Jack sniffled. 

“Okay. It’s okay, Jack. It’s not your fault.”

“I’m sorry...” Jack cried harder, sitting in your lap. 

“Jack. Buddy. I need to get up.” You stated, trying to move Jack’s hands from around your neck.

“No!” Jack exclaimed, holding you even tighter.

“I’ll be right back. I just need to get my phone.” Jack slowly unwound his arms from your neck and you darted inside the room, grabbing the phone from the table. You ran back outside and slid to the ground, lifting Jack and placing him back in your chest. You shifted through your recent contacts.

My Love 💕💖

De Macho 💪🏾

Genius 🦉

Em 😎

Blondie 👨‍👩‍👦‍👦

PG 💻

Papa Rossi ✍✍

You press the last contact.

“Rossi.” 

“Dave. Don't raise your voice, don't look alarmed, step away from Aaron and just listen.” You commanded before taking a deep breath. “We have a slight problem.”

“What?” Rossi hissed.

“The rings may have been misplaced.” Jack wriggled back and hid his face into your chest once more.

“Who lost the rings?” David asked alarmed. Jack looked up at you in alarm.

“Me.” You said, maintaining eye contact with a glossy-eyed Jack.

See the full post

149 notes - Posted August 5, 2022

#4

Speak Now

@imagining-in-the-margins​​

Prompt:  “Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Summary: Seven words to make or break a relationship

Warnings: angst & references to nightmares

“Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

You sat in the front row, eyes glossy, watching Spencer smile at his bride, Maeve, with such glee. A hand clasping your shoulder had you turn your head to the side. Your eyes looked at the hand, trailing upwards to Rossi’s face.

“You okay, kiddo?” He whispered, smiling sadly.

“Yeah.” You whisper back. You turned your head back to Spencer.

“I object!” You suddenly hear a voice yell. The audience gasped in shock as the man who had spoke stood up. He had sat in your exact seat, with your exact facial expression, only on the bride’s side. “Y/N. I know you object too.”

“Charles!” Maeve whispered. “What are you doing?”

“Y/N. What is he talking about?” Spencer asked, looking directly at you. His eyes glared at you, icy, as if he was disgusted by what he heard.

“I love you, Maeve. I have always loved you!” Charles confessed, walking up to her.

“I...” You stuttered under Spencer’s gaze before taking a deep breath. “I love you, Spencer.”

“Really?! Now?! You’re doing this now?!” Spencer shouted. “I’m happy! I am finally happy and you just had to mess things up, didn’t you?! You always do this! Why- Why would you do this?!”

“I...” You trailed off before saying, “I’m sorry.”

“No! You... You are pathetic and I’ll never love you! You disgust me.” Spencer snapped as he leaned towards you.

*****

They always show in films when you wake from a nightmare, you jump upright, breathing heavily. That’s a lie. Your eyes opened slowly as if begging for the nightmare to be fake, that Spencer’s voice wasn’t spitting venom at you. You listened for the sound of cars driving past and the sound of sirens. Tears building in your eyes, you reached out for your phone.

06/08 5:34 AM

Spencer’s wedding day. You sat up in your bed, tears streaming down your face. You sat there for what felt like minutes, trying to control your breathing when there was a knock at your door. A head popped in and the man it belonged to was a certain Spencer Reid.

Now Spencer and you have known each other for years. You met aged 7 and you were his best friend, even if you weren’t a child genius like he was. He graduated high school at 12 but you did at 14. While he went through 3 PHDs, you went through law school and were now one of the best criminal lawyers around. You had kept touch through everything, you slowly falling in love with your best friend. One day, (1 year, 3 months, 6 days, 18 hours and 23- 24 seconds ago) Spencer had come home to your shared apartment with a massive grin on his face.

“You good, Spence?” You had asked, looking up from some cases.

“...I got a date with Maeve.” Spencer grinned, face lighting up like it hadn’t in ages. You smiled in response (I mean of course you did, you were happy he was happy even if it wasn’t with you).

After a number of dates and phone calls and visits, Spencer had proposed. He had walked into your office at work one day, asking for ideas and like a good friend, you did. (Some nights, you wished you hadn’t. That maybe something would happen to break the two up. But as soon as those thoughts appeared, you snapped out of it because he was your everything and his happiness meant so much more to you.) It was a choice when Spencer asked you to be his best person and you chose to stay. Chose to have your heart stamped over but see him happy than see him not. 

****

“Good afternoon. Maeve, Spencer and I would like to welcome everyone on this gorgeous day. It's because of all of you—because of this strong community— Spencer and Maeve's relationship has strengthened and grown and led them to this very moment. Thank you for being here, now let's begin.” The officiant said, after Maeve had walked down the aisle with her bridesmaids.

“First we have a reading of ‘The White Rose’, which was written by John Boyle O’Reilly.” The officiant continued,

“The red rose whispers of passion, And the white rose breathes of love; O, the red rose is a falcon, And the white rose is a dove. But I send you a cream-white rosebud With a flush on its petal tips; For the love that is purest and sweetest Has a kiss of desire on the lips.” 

You listened from your front row seat, watching Spencer look at the love of his life, Maeve, with such glee and adoration. You glanced to the side to see Charles in your exact seat, with your exact facial expression only on the bride’s side.

See the full post

182 notes - Posted August 6, 2022

#3

WARNING: Fate the Winx Saga Season 2 Spoilers!!

Update: Series is now up! ==> Masterlist

Thinking of writing a Fate fic with Blood Witch Reader, Riven, Sky and Silva.

Reader was training as a Specialist and was really good. Never relying on their abilities.

But somehow they get revealed as a Blood Witch and outcasted. They never wanted to be a blood witch so ran away.

Maybe Reader fights Sebastian and becomes a traitor to them too.

Sky, Riven and Silva defend them???

See the full post

192 notes - Posted September 17, 2022

#2

Gone

Summary: Heartrender Y/N has been in the Little Palace for as long as they could remember. Now that Alina the Sun Summoner has come to Os Alta, Y/N can make their leave.

Being a powerful heartrender was not easy. You had to practice often to ensure no loss of control and occasionally you would catch the eye of someone powerful... Someone like the Darkling.

“Sir. My transfer?” You asked, as you walked into the war room.

“Has been accepted. Pack your bags for Ketterdam.” Your commander stated.

“Ketterdam, sir?” You asked, masking your glee.

“Yes. Now go!” You were commanded. Once you walked out of the room, you walked next door to your bedroom.

Now let me explain. There is a reason for your bedroom being so close to the Darkling’s. You were powerful in terms of your heartrending, yes, but that’s not all. You were born and raised as a Fjerdan warrior/shieldmaiden and tended to rely more on that and your abilites with your dual swords than using your Grisha abilites. As a heartrender, you were able to manipulate the human body. You could snatch the air from lungs, slow pulses until comatose, or even literally crush a heart — all from a distance. But you could do more. You could create illusions and hallucinations by affecting the neurotransmitters in the body, could alter memories and even manipulate one’s emotions. It was no wonder that the Darkling wanted you so close by.

You began packing your bags for Ketterdam, taking the kefta you had with you. You ignored the black kefta that stood on a mannequin next to your table. A dressing table with a latch sat next to your bed, which connected to the Darkling’s room. You didn’t use it but the Darkling liked to. In the middle of the night, while you slept and after his work had been done, he would turn the latch into your room after stripping out of his kefta. He would caress your sleeping face before slipping under the covers and wrapping his arm over your waist. He would often still be there by the morning when you woke.

2 years... It had taken 2 whole years for your transfer to be accepted. 2 years of being accepted by your immediate commanders and all other channels but always stopped by the General. There was never a good reason either, just a simple ‘You’re needed here’.

“I’m going to Ketterdam.”

**** 

Five Months Later

General Kirigan sat in his war room, maps all over the table with figurines on top of them. He leaned back in his chair, leaning his head back. Closing his eyes, he waited for hands to rub his shoulder and a voice to offer suggestions in his ears. He suddenly opened his eyes when he heard and felt nothing. Standing up, he began pacing.

“When was the last time I saw them? It was at dinner yesterday - no I had dinner with Alina. Breakfast? No...” Kirigan ranted before deciding to enter Y/N’s room. He looked around, finding the bed made but a few things on the table missing. His eyes widened as he opened the closet to find clothes gone. Worried, he walked (not ran, he was too sophisticated for that.) to find Ivan or Fedyor, Y/N’s closest friends.

“Sir.” The two heartrenders greeted as they began to walk towards the Winter Fete.

“Have you seen them?” The General asked, not bothering with pleasantries.

“The Sun Summoner, sir?” Fedyor asked bemused. “They were with Genya.”

“No. Y/N.” The General explained.

“They’re... They’re in Ketterdam, sir.” Ivan explained, rather confused.

“What? Why are they there?” Kirigan persisted.

“Sir, Y/N left months ago. Their transfer went through.” Fedyor explained after exchanging a short glance with Ivan.

“What? What transfer? I didn’t sign a transfer.” Kirigan denied.

“The one you keep stopping. And you clearly signed the transfer paper and the patrol papers.” Ivan nodded along with Fedyor. 

“Fine. I’ll get them back.” Kirigan declared, turning sharply on his heel before turning back around. “After the fete.“

General Kirigan walked away and Ivan and Fedyor sighed in unison. General Kirigan didn’t seem to realise that Y/N didn’t want to be brought back. After a few days and after Alina’s escape from the Little Palace, General Kirigan finally made their way to Ketterdam. He asked around and found their house, knocking on the door, his black kefta floating behind him.

“Aleksander?” You asked, as you opened the door.

“Y/N.” Came the swift reply from the man himself. “Can I come in?”

Part 2

302 notes - Posted August 7, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

The Masked Part 1

Fandom: Fate the Winx Saga

Pairings: Sky x reader, Riven x reader, Saul Silva x reader (Platonic or otherwise undecided)

Warning: Descriptions of violence. swearing and hints of childhood abandonment.

A/N: This part is based on Season 1 but the rest will be pre- and in Season 2 (Rosalind’s era). So spoilers for them.

Taglist: @v1naco | @instantplaiddream | @faithm120601 | @holyhumorliteraturelight​​

Series Masterlist

You woke to the vibrations of their makeshift bed and the engine of the Solarian guard car in which they slept. You could hear the words of the driver and passenger of the car, a pair of fairies, one a fire fairy and the other an air fairy. The two fairies were ‘friends’ with your best friends, Sky and Riven respectively.

“You stole a car? How do you know how to steal a car?“ You heard Bloom, the fire fairy, ask Beatrix, the air fairy.

“I know how to do a lot of things.” You heard Beatrix retort as they drove off to an unknown destination. Now why you were in a Solarian guard’s car was simple... No, you didn’t sleep with a guard that arrive that morning. You didn’t sleep at all the night before and when one of the guards, an old friend called Cathán, asked you to grab something from the car, you may have fallen asleep. 

The drive went on in silence, you laid stiff with tension. The car twisted and turned, the sound of tires over gravel the only other sound. Soon the car stopped, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Bloom and Beatrix stepped out of the car, causing you to exhale heavily,

“Aster Dell was a town, right? Are you sure this is the right place?” You heard Bloom ask, Beatrix replying.

“I'm positive.” 

“How could a town be marked on a map if it's on the side of a mountain?” Bloom asked as she walked further from the car. Your hand went towards your phone and read the most recent texts from Sky and Riven.

BlueEyes: Where the hell are you?!

Raven: Fuck this! Sky is calling Silva! So get your ass back here!

Soon enough, Bloom and Beatrix got back into the car, Bloom’s face depressed. You heard them talk about Rosalind and Aster Dell... Two very familiar names.

“Dowling imprisoned her. I'm at Alfea to break her out.” Beatrix explained before exclaiming as something hit the car. “Shit!”

The tires screeched and Beatrix ran out, only to be stopped by Headmistress Dowling and Professor Harvey, who was holding her in place using Earth magic. 

“Take Bloom. We’ll handle this.” Headmistress Dowling stated, your body froze in the back of the SUV. The group began to move away from the SUV when Silva then stated.

“You know... Y/N was missing today. Sky and Riven told me they weren’t on campus. Then one of the queen’s guards, Cathán, said that Y/N was helping him with something in the SUV before he got knocked out.” Silva explained, walking towards the back of the SUV. He opened the door to your sheepish face, staring blankly at you. “Get out, Y/N.“

Meanwhile back on the Alfea campus, Sky and Riven were talking to each other. They stood in the training grounds, wooden sticks in hand as they fought.

“And you’re sure Y/N isn’t here?” Riven asked Sky, his stick spinning as he hit Sky.

“We looked everywhere.” Sky explained, before dodging a swipe and blocking another hit. “I told Silva and...”

Sky was cut off by a loud ping and Riven’s phone went off a second later.

Silva: We’ve got them.

As they read the message, another appeared from their friend.

Y/N ⚔❤: You fuckers snitched! Silva hasn’t stopped yelling at me since he found me!!

Due to your ‘actions’, Silva placed you on house arrest with a curfew. Bloom was spied upon and Beatrix led away by Headmistress Dowling. A few days passed and soon you were called to arms against the Burned Ones.

“Y/N. We need to go!” Riven called out before you grabbed your dual swords with a silver hilt and ran outside the school. Unsheathing your swords, you began cutting down Burned Ones, leaving a trail behind you. In the distance, you could make out a redhead walking towards the Burned Ones and transforming, fire swirling around her. You began walking back to the school, passing out from exhaustion.

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326 notes - Posted September 19, 2022

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[jo-powers]

Allow Me to Introduce You to the Future of Personal Development (First Post)

July 4th, 2041

Hey followers, truth-teller and voice of the patriots Jo Powers here, and what you’re looking at is the product of a classified government project that’s been in the works for many years. It’s called “Project Dream Machine”, to which I’ve been given exclusive access. What it does might sound a bit like something out of a tabloid magazine: it allows people who use it to enter their subconscious and do inner work, visually. Tangibly. Like a VR game.

Included with my access to the machine itself, I was also given the opportunity to watch subjects who have used it. How it works is like this: the subject gets into the chair, which consists of the seat, a full suit and airlocked helmet, and is given a tranquilizer.

“The machine’s computer operates at the quantum level,” says Doctor Amanita, the project’s visionary leader, “the subject falls asleep and gets dropped into the world of their subconscious, but it’s just as fully vivid and tangible as the world that you and I are in. It turns out that the subconscious mind is a lot like the physical world, and, according to quantum theory, all of ours are connected. We each have our own dreams, but it all takes place in the same world.” That’s astonishing, and a little over my head, so I probed further about the machine’s purpose. Why would we want to go into our subconscious?

“It’s always been common knowledge that in order to be the best version of ourselves, we need to overcome the dragon within us. The machine allows us to do just that—to go on a journey of self-discovery and kill the dragon that guards the way to our potential. It’s a metaphor come to life, at least for the one in the machine. They don’t know they’re asleep while they’re there, though. It’s all real for them, and by the time they wake up, they’ll be changed people. A lifetime of personal development in a single dream! Whoever wakes up from the dream machine is not the same person they were when they fell asleep in it. They are instead the best version of themselves."

Fascinating. When asked about the dragon: “It’s not a literal dragon. Well, I suppose it could be. It’s whatever the individual struggles with on a personal level. Everybody’s dragon looks different. Yours could be a giant spider. Or maybe it's not a beast for you, but a setting, like a black hole or the deep ocean. We just don’t know until we go in there.”

When asked about how long the process takes: “It could be any length of time, but the subject doesn’t wake up until their dragon is slain. That much is sure. So far, though, the longest a subject has taken is one night. Eight hours.”

The subjects Doctor Amanita is referring to are, at the moment, confidential, but there have been a few of them to pioneer the way, and, according to Amanita, all of them emerged from their sleep as advertised: changed for the better, and happy.

I took an awe-muddled breath and asked, “How long is the time limit?” To which he replied, “There is no limit. You couldn’t wake them anyway, and you might kill them if you tried. It’s safest to wait, even if they take a long time. I'm prepared to feed them and connect drainage bags if it comes to that, and so are they.”

After taking in all of this information, I had one last burning question: “What is your motivation for doing all of this?”

Doctor Amanita’s expression changed a bit, became a little more serious. “Because I was always told I couldn’t do anything. That I wasn't good enough.” Then he smirked. “I suppose I’ve got something to prove.”

It all sounds incredibly science-fiction, but also incredibly too good to be true. Either way, this machine is getting an official unveiling for the public after Doctor Amanita finalizes the product by using it himself next week.

What an honor it has been to give this exclusive exposé! Stay tuned, more trailblazing news to come.

[adviserbabycom]

Chicco NextFit Zip Convertible Car Seat Review

Today, we're exploring the Chicco NextFit Zip Convertible Car Seat, reputed for its extended usability and simple yet innovative features. In this post, we'll delve into its safety standards, adjustability, ease of use, and special features like the zip-off machine washable pad.  What sets the Chicco NextFit Zip apart, and could it be the solution to seamlessly transition from infant to toddler seating?  Join me as we unpack the features, benefits, and real-world performance of this convertible car seat, providing you with the insights you need to make the best choice for your child's safe and comfortable journey. Chicco NextFit Zip Convertible Car Seat Features Installation and Ease of Use The installation process of the Chicco NextFit Zip is remarkably simple, thanks to its 9-position ReclineSure leveling system. The LATCH connectors with the SuperCinch force-multiplying tightener and LockSure belt-locking system make it easy to achieve a secure and tight fit, whether you choose to install it with LATCH or the vehicle seat belt. As a busy parent, I appreciate the user-friendly touchpoints that simplify travel and everyday life. Comfort and Adjustability The NextFit Zip provides exceptional comfort for infants and growing toddlers. The padded no-rethread 5-point harness and nine-position headrest accommodate their growth throughout both rear-facing and forward-facing modes. The seat's foam material and machine-washable fabrics offer a cozy and convenient experience. Additionally, the removable newborn positioner allows for safe and comfortable use right from day one. Safety Features Safety is a top priority for any car seat, and the Chicco NextFit Zip delivers reassuring protection. The DuoGuard system, consisting of a deep rigid shell and EPS energy-absorbing foam, provides superior head and body support. The steel-reinforced frame adds an extra layer of strength and stability, giving parents peace of mind. These safety features align with the high standards I look for as a pediatrician. Versatility and Durability The NextFit Zip Convertible Car Seat is designed to accommodate both rear-facing and forward-facing positions, making it suitable for infants and older children alike. Its premium LATCH connectors with click-on attachment and push-button release allow for smooth transitions between vehicles or modes. The seat's sturdy construction and high-quality materials ensure its durability, making it a worthwhile investment that will last for years. Customer Reviews and Ratings It's always helpful to consider other parents' experiences with a product. The Chicco NextFit Zip has received overwhelmingly positive customer reviews and ratings. Many parents praise its ease of installation, comfort for their children, and overall satisfaction with the seat. These reviews further reinforce my confidence in recommending this car seat to parents. The Chicco NextFit Zip Convertible Car Seat is an excellent choice for parents seeking comfort, safety, and convenience. As a pediatrician and a mother, I have personally used this car seat and found it to be reliable, user-friendly, and packed with features that prioritize the well-being of children. I hope my detailed review provides valuable insights for parents looking to make an informed decision about their child's car seat. Frequently Asked Questions about the Chicco NextFit Zip Convertible Car Seat Yes, the NextFit Zip is designed for easy installation. It features a 9-position ReclineSure leveling system, SuperCinch force-multiplying tightener, and a LockSure belt-locking system, which make it convenient to achieve a secure fit using either LATCH or the vehicle seat belt. Yes, the NextFit Zip is equipped with the DuoGuard system, which includes a deep rigid shell and EPS energy-absorbing foam for enhanced head and body protection. It also has a steel-reinforced frame for added safety. The "zip" refers to the seat pad that can be easily zipped off for washing. This feature makes it convenient for parents to keep the car seat clean. The Chicco NextFit Zip meets all Federal Motor Vehicle Safety Standards and is tested for side-impact protection. It also features an energy-absorbing foam for increased safety. Check Out Our Top Car Seat Recommendations Choosing the right car seat for your child can be a daunting task with so many options available. At AdviserBaby, we have done the heavy lifting for you by providing detailed reviews and recommendations to ensure your little one's safety and comfort. Here are some of our top pages you should definitely check out: - Best Travel Car Seats: If you're constantly on the go, this page is a must-visit. Find the best travel car seats that offer optimum safety and convenience for your travels. - Top Graco Infant Car Seats: Graco is a trusted brand known for its quality car seats. Visit this page to find the top Graco infant car seats that have won the hearts of many parents. - Top Lightweight Travel Car Seats: Lugging around a heavy car seat can be a struggle, especially during travels. Check out our selection of top lightweight travel car seats to lighten your load. - Best 3 in 1 Car Seat 2023: A 3 in 1 car seat can be a smart investment as it grows with your child. Explore our top picks for the best 3 in 1 car seats for 2023. - Top All-in-One Car Seat on 2023: All-in-one car seats are designed to adapt to your child's growth, serving as an infant seat, convertible seat, and booster. Find out which ones are leading the pack in 2023. We are committed to assisting you in making the most informed decision for your child's safety and comfort. Happy exploring! Read the full article

[edelweiss-coffee]

i love your blogs aesthetic!!! can you write some eddie fluff where he notices his crush loves to draw flowers as a way to relax from the anxiety around the upside down and always borrows the library's flower books to use as references that he buys her a book of her own?

ofhwofhowehf I LOVE THIS SO MUCH

"you comin', y/n?" eddie coos softly to you.

without lookin up from your sketchbook, you nod.

"yeah, just let me finish up this linework..." you squeeze out.

"my little van gogh," he whispers, believing he's out of earshot.

"not van gogh, eds, just mentally ill," you drone, as you pack up your markers.

"did not think you could hear me. come on, we're gonna go see if dustin's girlfriend will give us the background we need for this new campaign."

"that's why we're going all the way up weathertop?"

"yeah, babe. cerebro?" he motions like he's holding a walkie-talkie.

"that’s right. sorry."

while tying up your shoes, your mind swirls with nervous energy. after all the shit you've seen in the last month, your thought process is thoroughly deteriorated. you don't have a second of peace unless you're engulfed in your sketchbook, trying to paint the very picture of serenity. everything just feels so, so bad.

"y'ready, honey?"

"yeah, eds, i'm ready. let's go check out cerebro."

it's only about a ten minute drive to weathertop, but you have to take your sketchbook out again on the way there. you open up your plant encyclopedia and turn to the limited section of florals. setting it next to you on the van's seat, you draw in your sketchbook while admiring a lily-of-the-valley.

"sweet girl," eddie sighs, sneaking glances at you when the road doesn't demand is attention. "you've been nose deep in that sketchbook for what? a week? talk to me."

he reaches over and squeezes your thigh.

"makes me feel better, eds. i'm havin' a hard time. told you this already."

"yeah, i know you told me. i just mean maybe talkin' about it will help it go away."

"talking about it will make me spiral. i don't like to 'cos i won't stop talking, and i'll start crying, and talkin' in circles, and it'll ruin the entire day. i'm sorry." you look up.

"i get it, angel. don't have to explain, or feel bad." he pulls the van over.

"what are you drawin, then?" he snatches up your sketchbook, flips through the pages.

"baby..." his mouth hangs agape.

"babe. these are fucking incredible. why so many lily-of-the-valleys? not a bad thing, they're so pretty. but are they special to you?"

you shake your head, and point at the botanicals book.

"there's only a few flowers in here. i can't draw anything from memory, so now i've got half a sketchbook full of one flower... but it helps."

"oh, my god, y/n. oh my god. hold on." he reaches into the center console.

"what're you doing, eds?"

"just hold on a minute, honey."

he puts the van in drive again and turns it around.

"eddie, where are we going?" you laugh.

"couldya just be patient? it'll be worth it. i promise."

within a few minutes, eddie is parking the van again.

"i'll be right back, okay?" he huffs.

you're on the commercial street of hawkins. boutiques, hawkins post, and the supermarket are here. you don't really hang around here often. he's left you with your thoughts again.

what is he doing?

ah, there he is, holding a blue paper bag. he opens up the driver's door and slides in.

"gotcha somethin'," he breathes.

he hands you the bag.

"eddie, what--" you open it. a book?

flowers, a golden guide. a guide to 200 of the most common wildflowers.

you are absolutely astonished.

"eddie, thank you! thank you so, so much. they only had a foliage one and this botanicals one at the library! thank you so much, eddie. this is so, so special to me."

his smile could put every single streetlight to shame.

"'m so glad you love it, baby. if it's flowers that you love, then flowers you shall have." he leans in until his forehead is touching yours.

" i love you the most, y/n."

"i love you even more."

[merakiui]

AAAA! IM AT THE EDGE OF MY SEAT!!!! every notification has me running for my phone

what does Jade say/do? does he perhaps take Floyd and Azul as well? they can’t possibly leave freely now, they know. maybe he’ll eat them

Azul maybe, but i think he’d be a little hesitant with Floyd

or how would MC react ? !! thoughts thoughts

- :D

In reference to this post.

There isn’t any emotion on Jade’s face when he enters the nursery and finds Azul and Floyd gathered there. He’s actually quite civil about the entire thing, politely asking them to join him at the dining table for a discussion. It’s pointless to lie when they’ve already discovered part of the truth, so he’ll only confirm what they’ve seen and nothing more. They don’t need to know he’s a serial killer feasting on humans; that’s a secret he’ll keep for a long time, hopefully. It’s true that the woman chained to the crib is you, and it’s true that that’s his baby. When they finally manage to ask him why, Jade can only offer a halfhearted shrug and something along the lines of: “True love or something akin to a forbidden romance, perhaps?” And, though it’s a bland half-truth, it destroys poor, lovestruck Azul and confuses Floyd even more, but they’re so tongue-tied that all they can muster are mechanical nods and hums of affirmation. Even Floyd’s uncharacteristically quiet and he almost always has something to say.

Jade ends the talk with his usual close-lipped smile, hands folded on his lap. Azul and Floyd do realize that snooping comes with repercussions, right? Jade can’t exactly let them walk free now that they know. Just how deep does their bond run? Is it deep enough that they’d be willing to harbor this life-altering secret? Jade has some faith in Floyd, but Azul is a lockbox of secrets—withholding all sorts of information that people would kill to keep hidden—so he’s not entirely happy that Azul’s found out. If it had been just Floyd, he wouldn’t have been so worried. They’re cut from the same cloth, after all. But Azul is different—he’s a negotiator and he also loves you. So perhaps this can work in either merman’s favor. Jade can practically hear the cogs turning as Azul’s eyes glaze over in rumination. He’s thinking, assessing all of his options, and soon he’ll be bargaining.

With Azul, Jade would want to eat him in his octo-mer form. He’ll be more delicious that way, and it’ll be fun to show you what Azul really looks like. If you’re so frightened by Jade’s sharp teeth and fins, wait until you get a look at the octopus in his bathtub. It’s cruel, considering Azul’s appearance is one of his biggest insecurities, but the ocean and its inhabitants aren’t exactly sugar and sunshine. What’s complicated, though, is that Azul is so much larger in his true form and Jade only has so much space in his bathroom. If he really wants to keep Azul and Floyd in his flat while he considers what to do with them, he’ll have to force them to take transformation potions to ensure the effects of the last one won’t wear off.

Azul joins you in the nursery, chained to the leg of the crib, while Floyd is permitted to roam Jade’s flat at his own discretion. It would just add more difficulty to the situation if Jade chained his brother, who can’t stand being trapped or told what to do. So as long as Floyd is kept entertained, fed, and given free-range he won’t pose much of a threat. After all, Floyd will always choose Jade no matter what. They’re family and that’s important.

You and Azul keep each other company despite the mounting tension. He peers down at the napping baby in the crib and can’t believe such a precious ball of life belongs to you and Jade. He had hoped—dreamed, even—that he could share that sort of bond with you one day. Azul doesn’t want to get too comfortable with you. He knows Jade’s angle. He knows where this will lead.

But when you look so helpless and broken, he can’t help pulling you in for an embrace. It’s really all he can do when words stick in his throat. He’ll think of a solution or a deal or a scam or something. Anything. Hopefully…