#please take eleven labs away from me

[imagines-by-cleo]

Orig post

[daturabouquet]

❤︎𝔻𝕠𝕥𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝔻𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕔 𝔸𝕌!❤︎🧪

Ever wonder what it'll be like in one of your daily lives with the Second of The Eleven? Il Dottore is a cruel, cruel man. But why isn't he cruel to you?

"Silly Doctor, I'm not afraid of ghosts!"

♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎𝐈𝐥 𝐃𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎

Rough busy day for your mad lover, and a slow day for you. Dottore always comes back to your now shared bedroom tired and somewhat pissed off. You can tell he's had a rough day with his terribly messy blue hair and annoyed glare. He throws himself on the plush soft bed while he rambles on and on about how Webttore keeps on picking unnecessary fights with the subordinates.

You smile and carefully let his head lay on your lap, brushing his hair out lovingly as he rambles incessantly. Dottore locks his gaze on you, who's smiling and giggling a little.

"What's so funny?" Dottore hisses, his emotions still all over the place. "Hehe, it's just that I love to listen to you talk... and I can listen to this for hours so please, my dear doctor, keep ranting." You reply, being completely honest. Dottore sighs and grumbles;"How interesting. You fall asleep every single time I try to educate you on my research." Soft fingers twirl his hair as you think of a response. "Well, this is the only time I can actually understand you, anyway. I don't get it when you talk about joint consciousness and cloning and whatever it was!" Dottore rolls his eyes and caresses your face. He's suddenly confused, how are you always so cheerful? And better yet, why does a cheerful lovely darling like you end up with someone like him? You were the complete opposite of him.

"Am I not a monster to you, darling?" The doctor asks, his gaze softens. "Monster? What made you think that way?" You asked back.

"Is it not obvious, dear? I reckon you're very aware of why." Dottore scoffs, yet he's still patient to hear your answer. "You're not a monster to me! You're freaky and dangerous but that won't stop me from loving you." You answer, softly tapping his mask. "I recall you hated my experiments." Dottore grumbled again, swatting your hand off his mask. "I do, but... if they ever shun you away again, you can always nestle in my arms." Your honeyed words softens him a little.

Slowly, you remove his mask, revealing his beautiful ruby red eyes. Dottore winces at the sudden brightness, yet he immediately locks his focus on your face. He wonders, how could someone like you fall for a monster like him? No, not just a monster, he's a disgrace, a villain, a murderer. How did it happen? Someone as cheerful, as loving, as caring as you shouldn't fall for a demon like him. If you were an angel, all he ever did was cut your wings off. Why? Why did you love him?

"Are you scared of me, darling?" Dottore asks, he seems to be digging for more information. "I... I'm not scared of you, ttore. I trust you! I know you'll never do harm to me... and even if you do perform some sort of experiment on me, I'm sure it's one of the bearable or beneficial ones.." You reply. This answer stunned him a little, how could someone like him be trusted? Being tolerated is one thing, but trusted?

"Ttore-?" You wave your palm above his eyes, you noticed he was in deep thought. "Hmm, you know what? you should go to bed. you need some rest... those caffeine shots can barely keep you moving at this rate." You shuffle away from him, letting his head fall off your lap to the soft bed. He finally snaps out of his thoughts and sits up, you carefully take his lab coat off and put his hair in a low ponytail. He softly yawns as you bring him some comfortable clothes.

"Hmm? I'm too tired to change. I can sleep like this just fine." Dottore protests. "You smell like blood! I'll get nightmares sleeping next to you!" You pout, "If you don't change, I won't sleep with you." Your simple request comes off as a silly threat to Dottore, but he quickly groans and stands up and changes right in front of you. His signature burn marks tattered all over his arms are now visible, and you can't help but blush a little. You also stand up and help him with his harness, in which he smiles in return.

After getting dressed for bed, Dottore collapses on the bed again and quickly gets comfortable. You can only stare at him for a while before sitting on the bed.

"I've changed my clothes. Why aren't you sleeping with me?" Dottore asks, trying to hide the fact that he really wants you next to him. You giggle a little before settling next to him, getting yourself and him under the thick wool blanket. You know better than to tease him, which will result in him refusing to sleep. You initiate a soft hug, which he quickly returns with a tight squeeze.

He leans his head onto your chest, listening to every single heartbeat. You can only smile while playing with his soft locks. You softly hum a popular lullaby from Sumeru, while occasionally kissing his forehead. Before you know it, he's out cold. He's deeply comfortable with you, and to know that you trust him, makes him feel less like a monster. Or maybe, it gives him faith that monsters can be loved too.

----

[logan-sniper]

Angst fic 💛💙

I'm so evil for writing this 🤕

(Not my art 😋)

Jump

Byler angst, Mile wheeler angst, sadfic

*trigger warning! Suicide, depression, sad things :(

Info: this is mike's suicide note to Eleven a few days after will dies due to vecna

(This takes place before or during s5)

It's midnight when Mike bikes to Hopper's cabin where Eleven is staying. He leaves a crisp letter on the doorstep, pinned down with a rock so it won't blow away. Then he bikes away into the dark of the night.

Hopper wakes up early, and gets ready for work. He notices a white letter on the porch. He picks it up and reads the name it's addressed to. "Eleven, mail for you!" he hollers, and leaves it on the counter for he to read when she gets up.

Eleven wanders into the kitchen and opens the letter. She would recognize that handwriting anywhere. It was from Mike. Although the two broke up, they were still close friends. She sat down at the table, and began to read it.

"I was only 12 when I saw them pulling Will's "body" out of the quarry. I was only 12 when I attended his funeral, I was only 12 when I jumped off the that same quarry. I was only 12 when I wanted to be dead. The world was a cruel place, and I just wanted to join my best friend. You saved me, Eleven. You saved Will, too. You brought me happiness, and made me feel like a normal teenage boy! I wasn't normal though. I liked someone very much. But by the time I fully accepted myself for liking them, it was too late. I will never see Will in this life again. And to think I could've saved him if only I knew his favorite song. It was Boys Don't Cry, wasn't it? I should have been there for him, but I was too fucking worried that I would only love him more. Liking boys is a sin, I know that. I'm such a disappointment, tell my mom I'm sorry, will you? Will is dead. I'm still in shock, to be honest. From that day when I saw the lab workers pulling his "body" out of the lake, I knew he wouldn't last forever, but I didn't think he would have to go so fast. I know this is hard to hear, but in days, months, years, you'll forget about me. Don't be sad, I want to join him. I want to find him and apologize to him. I want to run up to him, kiss him and never stop, because I know he loves me back. Fuck, I know he does. Or did, I guess. El, I'm going back to the quarry tonight. By the time you find this in the morning, I'll be gone. Tell my mom I love her. Tell Nancy, Dustin, and Lucas that, too. And most of all, I love you Eleven. So don't worry about me, I just want to get to Will.

Love Mike"

Eleven dropped the letter to the ground, a lump in her throat, and a knot in her chest. "No." she whispered. He couldn't be gone. He couldn't be.

The quarry, she thought. That's where he was going. Is it too late? She sped out of the house, and dashed down the street. She didn't have a bike, so running was the only option.

Luckily, the quarry wasn't very far. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mike's bike parked at the very edge of the cliff.

"No," she whispered again, breathlessly. "No, no, no..." she peered over the edge of the cliff, and scanned to see if there was a body floating in the dark waters.

Nothing.

Suddenly, her eyes landed on a yellow blob. Was that Will's shirt? El didn't waste another second. She grabbed Mike's bike, and peddled down the hill towards the bottom of the quarry at full speed. When she got there, she ran towards the yellow. It was a body on the ground wearing in Will's favorite shirt, but it wasn't Will, it was Mike.

"Mike..." she sobbed, voice hoarse.

"Please," she held his lifeless, cold body in hers, and just sat there.

She just sat there, and cried.

How could he do this?

She wondered if he would actually meet Will in heaven.

She hoped they would spend the rest of eternity together. Happy at last. El wiped some of the dried blood away from his face. He had sharp, jagged rocks lodged into his body everywhere. Hours passed before she squeezed Mike's hand one last time, and then draped her cardigan around him. It was cold out, but Mike's body was cold enough.

"Goodbye, Mike." she choked out, before turning away and biking up the hill.

She hated to be the one to deliver bad news, but it had to be done.

El knocked on Mike's door, and when karen answered, she burst into tears again.

[yikesharringrove]

Twigs snapped under bare feet. Mud splashed against the dark trunks of thick trees. Branches caught pumping arms, leaving scrapes on pale skin.

He didn't care.

Could hardly feel the cuts on his feet as he ran. Sprinted as fast as he could.

He could still faintly hear the alarms in the distance, the lab sirens going off. The automated voice announcing a lockdown. A security breech.

There was blood underneath his fingernails.

Blood that wasn't his own.

He didn't know where he was going.

His only thought was to keep moving. Don't let them find me.

He ran, his lungs burning, his vision going bright.

The driver of the truck barely managed to stop before hitting the boy, the headlights washing over him.

Scared brown eyes, close shaved head. Dirty hospital gown.

Hopper could hardly breathe.

It was another one. Another fucked up experiment kid.

Escaped from the lab. Just like El.

He slowly got out of the truck.

The kid seemed to be frozen to the spot, a scrape on his cheek slowly oozing blood, his breaths ragged and heaving.

Hopper had his hands up, approaching as slowly as he could.

"It's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you."

The boy shivered, and it was as though the air folded around him, and he was gone.

Disappeared. Right on the spot.

Hopper held his breath. No footsteps.

"You're okay. I can help you. I know you came from the lab. I know you've escaped." He swallowed hard, eyes darting about, trying to see any sign of the boy. "I know about Papa. How he hurts you. I can keep you safe."

A twig splintered somewhere to his left.

The boy had started inching away.

"Sorry, probably shouldn't mention him. But, I know it all. I know about Eleven. You know her? She escaped about a year ago. Just like you. I'm keeping her safe. She has a home with me."

A shaky breath.

"Eleven?"

The boy's voice was tiny.

"Yes! Eleven. I could take you to her. You could speak with her."

It was silent, and Hopper tried to stay still. Tried to stay non-threatening.

The air seemed to tense, and relax around the small boy, finally visible again in the forest.

"Eleven."

-

Hopper didn't make the boy wear a seat belt in the truck. The idea of being strapped to something would most likely be a bad one.

His hands were shaking, and he twisted his fingers in the hem of his hospital gown.

Hopper had given him his coat, too-big on the boy's thin shoulders.

Too thin.

The boy's gotta be high school aged. Sixteen, maybe seventeen.

But he was small in the way that malnutrition brings. Hopper's seen it in a few domestic violence cases.

The boy followed anxiously behind Hopper as they walked to the cabin.

He probably should've radioed El in the car, let her know he has someone with him, but the sound of the engine had obviously been freaking the boy out a little too much already.

He knocked on the door, and the locks clicked one by one.

The boy gingerly followed Hopper into the cabin, looking around with huge eyes.

Hopper went straight to El's room, knocking softly.

She smiled at him from the bed, James and the Giant Peach resting on her lap.

"Hi, Jim."

"I need you to come out here. I, uh, I found something. Someone."

She looked at him questioningly, her brow furrowed.

"Who?"

"Another one. Another kid. Like you."

She was out of bed in a flash, pushing past him into the living room.

The boy was still standing near the door, eyes darting around the cabin.

Until he saw El.

his jaw trembled.

"Eleven," he all but whispered.

"Eight."

She nearly pounced on the boy, hugging him as tight as she could.

"You did it!" She pulled back to smile at him, and Hopper was pleased to see the boy return it with a tiny one of his own. "Brave."

"Scared," he said in that same tiny, whispery voice.

"Safe, now." She pointed to Hopper. "Jim. Safe."

The boy nodded.

"Safe."

[februaryfic]

Honey, You're Familiar: Chapter Three

(AO3) (Masterpost) (4625 Words)

A Steve Harrington x meta!Reader slowburn multichapter fic.

Summary: You befriend a psychic, give Steve a pep talk, and get the gang together.

---

You, Hopper and Joyce sit in the Byers’ living room. 

“You kicked Lonnie out again then?” You ask.

“I found the pamphlet, right where you said it would be.” Joyce says furiously. “God, I can’t believe that bastard!”

“I’m sorry-” you begin.

“No, no, this is on me for even believing him in the first place!” Joyce fumes. 

“Let’s focus on Will,” Hopper intervenes, trying to bring calm to the situation. “What do we do next?”

“You go to see Terry Ives,”

“Ives… why do I know that name?” Hopper mutters, before a look of horror dawns in his eyes. “The woman who said Dr Brenner took her kid, from the news report. So she was telling the truth all along?”

You nod solemnly. “Her child, Jane, is the girl who was seen at Benny’s diner, who has been hiding in Mike Wheeler’s basement the past week,”

“The one who’s been in the lab the whole time.”

“That’s right. I’m going to be meeting with her tonight, hopefully, which should set us up well for tomorrow.”

“And what’s happening tomorrow?” Joyce asks.

“Mike Wheeler’s going to jump off a cliff, Jonathan is going to punch a cop, and we might- might- just save your son,”

“Might?” Hopper questions. 

“Just because I know the future, doesn’t mean I control it,” you reply with a shake of your head. “I’ve done everything I can to set us up for success, now we just have to hope that everything goes according to plan. Speaking of—” 

You get up from the couch and head into Will’s room, reaching under the bed to find what you’re looking for. You pull out his walkie-talkie and head back to the adults. “—I need to take this.”

“But it's Will’s.” Joyce weakly protests.

“I know. And when we get him back tomorrow night, I will give it straight back, okay?” you pick your words carefully, and they have the intended effect of reassuring Joyce. She leans back into the sofa heavily.

“You can’t tell us anything else?” Hopper asks, still tense.

You pause. In the show, Hopper tells the lab where El is in exchange for letting him and Joyce go through the gate. You pray he will make a better choice in this reality. “We need to protect Eleven. We need to keep her away from those monsters at the lab, so keep her location a secret.”

You turn to Joyce and add: “And don’t be too hard on Jonathan when you get to the station. It's been a rough week for all of us,”

You go to leave but remember one last thing. “Do you have any children’s gloves?”

—

God it’s cold out. Now that the sun has completely set and the moon hangs in the sky, the November chill permeates the air, cooling you to the bone and making you shiver. The trees seem to shiver too as the wind bristles through them, filling the woods with a susurrus of leaves. The cold makes the scabbed gashes on your calf ache but you maintain your search. In the show, it’s implied that Eleven slept in the woods after the fight with Mike in the junkyard, but you just couldn’t let the poor girl suffer through that. 

Eventually, you spot a flash of baby pink fabric. 

“El! I’m not with the bad men or your papa, I’m a friend of Mike’s! Can we talk please?” You call out, hoping and praying that she dares to trust you.

You hear a rustle from behind a tree before the scruffy girl steps out. “Friend?” She asks, watching you with wide, owlish eyes. 

“Yes, I’m a friend. I know you just had a fight with Mike and I want to help. You can’t stay out here all night, you’ll freeze,”

“You know? Know how?” Her eyes narrow as she wraps her arms around herself.

“It’s a little bit of a long story, will you come back to my home to talk? It’s warm and we can have something nice to eat,”

El hugs herself tighter, clearly feeling the chill but not trusting you enough to follow.

“Eleven, I promise I will do everything I can to keep the bad men away from you. You’re safe with me. Friends don’t lie, right?” taking a risk, you reach your hand out to her. 

She walks towards you at an agonisingly slow pace, as if waiting for you to change your tune and attack. Her small hand slips into yours and you hiss under your breath as you feel her frozen fingers. Thank god for planning ahead. 

“Here,” you offer, pulling the pair of gloves out of your jacket. El watches as you carefully pull them onto her hands and secure them around her wrists.

“Better?” you ask.

“Better,” she echoes.

—

Her eyes follow you in an unnerving way as you potter around your apartment. El is curled up on your armchair with a blanket while you prepare dinner for both of you. 

“You know Mike?” she eventually asks, nervously, like she’s afraid of being told off for speaking. Your heart aches for her. 

“I do! I know Dustin and Will and Lucas too. I work at an arcade, which is a building where you can go to play lots of games,” you explain. 

“Lucas…” she whispers sadly. You head to her and crouch down before the armchair.

“El, you didn’t mean to hurt him. You’re not a monster. He and Mike were fighting, so you wanted them to stop, right?”

She nods her head cautiously, still confused by how you know all this.

“Exactly. And you used a bit too much power and threw Lucas a bit too far. Accidents happen, kiddo. You should still apologise when you next see him, just like he should apologise for saying those bad things about you, but it doesn’t make you a monster,”

“He’s right,” she says, tears now welling in her eyes as her breath catches in her chest. “The bad things. I lied. Lucas is right,” 

You gather her in your arms as her tears turn to full blown sobs. She tenses for a long moment, before returning the hug tightly.

“El… Lucas is upset because his friend is missing. All he saw was you messing with the compasses, but he didn’t understand your intentions.”

“In-ten…”

“Intentions. It means he doesn’t know why you did it.”

“Keep them safe.”

“I know, kiddo. But they don’t know about the gate, or the monster. They don’t know how dangerous it is, so they don’t know what you’re trying to keep them safe from.” 

“You know…?” El pulls back, looking at you cautiously again.

“About the gate and the monster? Yeah,” You say sadly. Your timer in the kitchen goes off, making El jump. “I’ll explain while we’re eating, okay? Food is important, I don’t want you getting hungry.”

El wolfs down your pasta bake like she hasn’t eaten in days. Which, to be fair, is almost the case. You doubt Mike was able to sneak her much.

You tell her about your home world, about the tv show, about the things you’ve changed. She listens attentively through it all.

“Here… why?” she eventually asks, pasta sauce around her mouth. You hand her a napkin, which she stares at in confusion, before you just reach over and wipe it off yourself.

“I don’t know why I’m here,” you admit. “It’s a little scary. I think it might have something to do with the Upside Down, but I came here before the gate was opened,”

“Help find out.” El says with determination, small face turning serious, and you can’t help but smile at her instinct to help.

“Thank you El, that’s really sweet of you. You’re a good kid.” You say, making her blush. 

You get her to help you wash the dishes, letting her play with the soap suds that surround the sink. After, you get out some old pyjamas and offer them to her, but she looks at them unhappily.

“No,” she says, crossing her arms. It takes you a moment to guess why.

“I’m not going to take the dress away from you, kiddo. We can clean it up and you can put it back on tomorrow. This is just so you’re comfy and warm while you sleep.” 

“Promise?”

“I promise, El. I won’t take the dress away from you.”

She takes the dress off and you prepare some warm water as she changes into the pyjamas. You get a cloth and wipe the dirt off the dress, tidying it up a little and leaving it on a hanger where El can see it. It isn’t as good as a full wash, but it’s still an improvement. 

She eventually joins you in the bathroom.

“Can I wash your face?” You ask, showing her the sink of water and the cloth in your hand.

She touches the water and the cloth carefully before nodding slowly at you. Gently, you wipe over her face, removing both the dirt and the old makeup Mike had applied to her face yesterday. She watches you as you move the cloth around her face, carefully scrubbing at a clump of dirt that has nestled its way into her eyebrow.

“Pretty,” she says, looking at you past the washcloth.

“You think I’m pretty? Thank you, El,” you smile. “I think you’re really pretty too,”

She ducks her head at this, pulling away from the cloth. “Lie,” she mutters, embarrassed.

“Hey!” you say, encouraging her head back up so you can look her in the eye. “Friends don’t lie, El. You are really pretty,”

The girl runs an insecure hand over her scalp, but doesn’t duck her head again.

“So what if you don’t have any hair right now? It just means everyone can see your pretty eyes better,” You say, repeating a line your mom once told you when you accidentally cut your bangs too short. “Besides, hair grows back, kiddo. In fact, I know in the future, you have lovely curly hair,”

“Really?” she asks, wide eyed. 

“Really,” you confirm. “Now stay still, I haven’t cleaned behind your ears,”

—

You wake up with visions of the demogorgon still haunting your mind, and a cramp in your mostly healed leg. You had given El your bed and slept curled up in your armchair. You limp over to the toaster and put in some eggos for you both.

“Hurt?” El asks, making you jump. She is peeking her head through the bedroom door which you had left open through the night.

“Uh, yeah. The demogorgon hurt me.”

“When?”

“Tuesday. The same day Mike spent the day with you and you saw the picture of Will.”

“Mike…”

“You’re gonna see him again today, kiddo. In fact, he’s gonna need your help. You remember the mouthbreathers from the middle school?”

She gets a mischievous smile as she thinks back to that day, giving you a nod. 

“Well, they’re going to try and hurt Mike and Dustin. You’ll need to use your powers to save them.”

“Use powers?” She says, her eyes suddenly filling with doubt and fear. The toaster pops and you lead her to the table, handing her the plate of waffles. 

“Your powers aren’t bad, El. You can use them to hurt people, yes, but you can also use them to help. And Mike will need your help today,”

—

You walk Eleven back to the woods, and show her where she can hide near the quarry until the time is right. 

“Okay, today will be a little intense, so I need you to listen, alright? After you’ve helped Mike and Dustin you can stop by Mike’s house to resupply but you need to leave as soon as you can, okay? Your papa is going to come looking for you.”

“Papa?” El gasps, shoulders tensing, and you can’t help but wrap her in your arms once more. 

“Yeah. But I promise we’re all going to do everything we can to keep him away from you, okay? Just make sure Mike and Dustin leave the house really quickly,”

“Okay,” she nods. 

You lean back so you can look into her eyes. “I’ll meet up with you later today, alright? I promise. But you need to help Mike and Dustin on your own first.”

“You go where?”

“I need to go help some other people now, and then we’re all going to meet up together, alright? I will see you later.”

“You promise,” she states.

“That’s right, I do,” You smile at her, giving her one last hug before leaving her in her hiding place. As much as it kills you to leave her, she needs to do this on her own. The situation with Lucas has knocked her confidence. She needs to know that her powers can do good.

—

Your trek over to the police station takes you through town. In the parking lot of the furniture store, you spot a familiar looking car, with a familiar looking boy sulking while sat on the hood. You look at the town clock—do you have time for this? Just because Steve was one of your favourite characters, doesn’t mean you can ignore your responsibilities every time you see him- you need to be at the police station pretty soon. You look over again at the dejected figure, who seems  to be making a tremendous effort to try and fade out of existence. 

God damn it. 

“Steve!” you call out, jogging over. “You look like hell,”

He stays quiet for long enough that it starts to worry you. He just holds his rapidly warming can of soda to his face and stares at the ground. Eventually, you hop up onto the hood of his car next to him, and sit in silence until he’s ready.

“I think I fucked up,” he eventually says.

“Want to talk about it?” you ask, gently. 

“No. I just want—” he breaks off, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “I just- do you ever wish you were someone else? Like, a completely different person? I don’t know. It’s stupid,”

“It’s not stupid, I get it. Like you could just wipe the slate clean and start over, right?”

“Exactly,” he turns to you, finally making eye contact. His face looks even worse up close. “I just think I’ve fucked this all up, y’know? And if I were a different person, I could do it all differently. Do it better,”

“Why can’t you things differently while still being you?” you ask, encouraging him to get to the root of what he’s saying.

“Because! I’m me and everyone knows me. Everyone knows who Steve Harrington is,” He says his own name with venom.

“And who is Steve Harrington?”

He goes quiet again before responding. “An asshole.”

God he makes your heart break sometimes. You shuffle closer to him on the hood so you can lean into his shoulder. He always seemed like a touchy person on the show, and you hope that it will help ground him. The way he sags into your side seems to prove you right. 

“I’ll admit,” You start, “You’ve done some pretty asshole-ish things. Was the graffiti on the marquee you?”

“Tommy,” He replies, “But I agreed. I had him stand on my shoulders so he could do it,”

“That sucks. I bet that really hurt Nancy.”

“Just because someone hurts me, I don’t have to hurt them back twice as bad, right?” he mutters darkly. 

“Right,” you respond, a little surprised that he remembered what you said. “So what are you doing to fix it?”

“What?”

“You say you’re an asshole, but you’re just a person. A person who is making asshole-ish actions maybe—” you nudge him with a smirk and are happy to see him crack a little smile back, “—but you can choose to be different whenever you like.”

“It's not that easy!”

“It really, really is.” You put every ounce of sincerity you can manage into your words, watching Steve consider them. He fusses with his hair anxiously, hesitation lingering around him.

“People will- they’ll say things.”

“People like… Tommy and Carol?”

He hesitates another moment, then nods. 

“Fuck Tommy and Carol!” you say, making him burst into a shocked laugh. “Who cares what those two miserable bitches think. Don’t let them drag you down with them.”

“They’re my only real friends…” Steve all but whispers, as if it's a shameful secret.

“They don’t seem like very ‘real’ friends to me,” you say firmly. “I’ve never had many friends either. I know it's scary to turn your back on them, but you’ll make more friends. Better friends,”

“You never had many friends?” Steve stares at you, aghast.

“Not the point I was trying to make, but yeah. I was alone for most of school.”

“But, why? You’re so nice,”

“I was bullied a lot. Most people didn’t want to be seen with me after that,”

“That’s stupid. They didn’t know what they were missing,” Steve says, with such seriousness that you almost believe it yourself. 

“You’re sweet. Now stop trying to change the subject,” You shove him gently, making him laugh again. “You want to be a different person? Then make different choices.”

“I don’t know how,” he replies honestly.

“You’re smart, you’ll figure it out. But I’ll give you a hint. Spray paint is real annoying to scrub off a marquee,” You slide off the car and give him a smile. “I need to go, but I’ll see you around, yeah?”

Steve looks into your eyes with a small smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, see you around Y/n.”

— 

Your conversation with Steve seems to have delayed you perfectly: from across the street you can see Hopper, Joyce, Barb, Nancy, and Jonathan bundled into the car, clearly arguing. Arguing about where the kids might be and how to find them. An argument you can put an end to.

You rap your knuckles on the window, making them all jump.

“Hey, let me in!” you call through the glass.

“Y/n?” Jonathan questions, not opening the door.

“Let her in kid, she knows everything,” Hopper says. Jonathan does and you squeeze into the already crowded backseat. “So, where are they?” he asks.

“Junkyard, but we’ll need to warn them we’re coming,” you say. Jonathan, Nancy and Barb look at you in astonishment. You’ll need to catch them up to speed. 

“How are we supposed to warn them?” Joyce asks.

You pull out the walkie-talkie you took from under Will’s bed two nights ago and smile.

—

Once you’re close enough to the junkyard to be in range, you start talking. It's only you and Hopper left in the car, the others being dropped off at the Byers’ house to leave space for the kids.

“Hey. This is Y/n, from the arcade,” You speak into the walkie. “El, do you remember what I told you before I sent you to the quarry? About how we’d meet up later? I’m here with Chief Hopper. I know where you guys are and we’re heading there now. I’m not going to say where in case they can listen in, but Eleven knows that I’m telling the truth. We need you to meet with us when we call, okay? Do you copy?”

Silence. For 4, 5 seconds, then—

“This is Mike. We copy,”

You sag in relief. “See you soon, stay hidden until you hear us call, okay? And Dustin, this is not a Lando Calrissian situation!”

—

Hopper insists on you staying in the car while he takes out the three lab agents prowling the junkyard. You almost protest, but stop yourself. Those guys have real guns! You don’t have plot armor! You keep your head ducked below the dashboard until Hopper gives you a wave to let you know it’s safe. 

You hop out the car and lead Hopper straight over to the abandoned school bus, knocking on the side of it. 

“This is Y/n and Hopper! You’re safe to come out!” you call. The kids come scrambling out of their hiding places, looking at you and Hopper with wide, suspicious eyes.

Except for El. She immediately runs up to you, before awkwardly stopping. She looks up at you, looks at your arms, and shifts in place. Oh. She wants a hug.

You crouch down and wrap her in your arms, hearing her exhale in relief.

“You promised,” she says.

“I did. Me and the Chief are here to take you guys somewhere safe,” you say. “Well… safer, at least.”

“How do you know El?” Mike squares up with you, eyes narrowed.

“And how did you know about Lando?” Dustin adds, as if that is of equal importance. 

You turn to Mike. “Where do you think she slept last night? I fetched her from the woods and we had a lovely girl’s night.”

Mike looks abashed, knowing he was the one who scared her off into the woods. 

You turn to Dustin. “That one is a little harder to explain. Come on, we’ll talk back at the house,”

—

“So you’re from the future?” Dustin shouts in excitement.

“More like a parallel universe? But kind of, yeah.” you reply.

“Do we have flying cars yet?”

“No.”

“A Mars colony?”

“No.”

“Holograms?” 

“No.”

“What about—”

“Enough!” Hopper yells, silencing the room. “Now that we’re all on the same page, what do we do next?” he asks, making everyone stare at you. 

“Well… in the show El tries to contact Will here, but doesn’t have enough power. So everyone goes to the middle school to make a sensory deprivation bath to help her,”

“Why the middle school?” Lucas asks.

“We need the de-icing salt to make the water buoyant enough. You filled the Byers’ old kiddie pool,” At your words, Joyce leaves the room to go fetch it.

“Why do we even need to do this? Can’t you just tell us where he is?” Jonathan asks, frustrated. He hasn’t made full eye contact with you since you admitted you knew Will was going to be taken, hands clenched by his side. 

“He was eventually found at the library in the version of the story I know. But do we know if that’s changed? If I tell you to go to the library and I’m wrong, you could get killed by the demogorgon before you ever reach him. We need to be sure.” you say firmly. 

Glancing at Barb, you continue: “Besides, I’ve made changes in this world. I don’t know if that will change where he’s found.”

“What kind of changes?” Nancy asks.

You had tidily avoided mentioning your interference with Barb’s death in your original recap, focusing on Will’s disappearance and how you knew about it, but you suppose you were going to have to answer this question eventually. 

“Barbara,” you say, looking at her cautiously. “You were going to be attacked by the demogorgon that night at Steve’s house, by the pool. I lured it away.”

“Attacked…” Barb repeats, sensing the hidden meaning in your words. You give her a guilty half-smile. 

“You fought that thing?” Dustin asks, wide eyed.

“Less ‘fought’ and more ‘biked away from it while crying’, but yeah,” you respond, ducking your head. 

“She told me about why Lonnie was really here, too,” Joyce adds, throwing down the old kiddie pool and rejoining the group. “Helped me find his damn lawyer pamphlet so I could kick him out after the wake.”

“Lawyer pamphlet?” Jonathan repeats. 

Joyce looks at him guiltily. “He wanted to sue the quarry. That’s why he came back,”

Jonathan ducks his head, hiding his anger, and you watch Nancy place a hand on his back in comfort.

“We need to move, we have the pool. Let's go,” Hopper says, making everyone stand up and herd into the various cars. 

You end up in a car with most of the kids and Hopper. El stays stuck to your side, and Mike stays stuck to hers. Dustin and Lucas have a brief argument over who else gets to ride with you before Hopper yells at them to hurry up and Dustin scurries off in defeat. 

“You guys ever wanted to break into your middle school?” You turn back in your seat to ask them, making the boys’ eyes light up. 

—

At the school, Barb pulls you away from the group. You’re on the hunt for duct tape to help black-out some goggles that Joyce had found in the science room. 

“So… I’m supposed to be dead,” she starts as she leads you towards a maintenance closet.

“That’s what happens in the show.” you say nervously, unsure of where she might be going with this. 

“How does it happen?” she asks.

“I’m not sure if I should-”

“Just tell me,” she says bluntly, cutting you off and staring you down. 

You sigh. “Nancy and Steve go upstairs to dry off after jumping in the pool. You say you’re not having fun, Nancy tells you to leave. You go out and sit by the pool and the blood from where you cut yourself attracts the demogorgon. It drags you to the Upside Down and you’re dead within minutes.” 

It’s not a fun story to tell.

“Just like that?” Barb asks.

“Just like that,” You confirm. “Nancy goes off the deep end trying to get answers. She investigates the woods, she talks to the police, she does everything she can to try and find you. In the show, El isn’t just in the bath to try and contact Will. She tries to contact you, too,”

“But I’m dead,” Barb concludes, clearly upset. “How come Will can be saved but I can’t?”

“I don’t know. The demogorgon kills most of the people it takes. Will just got lucky,”

“So it isn’t just me?” 

“What do you mean?”

“It isn’t just me that gets killed. I’m not the only one who couldn’t survive it,”

Ah. That’s what this is about. You stop walking and face her properly.

“Barb, this thing is a killing machine. The fact that Will has survived this long is the exception, not the rule. Two hunters, Dale and Henry, were killed by this thing a few days ago. Two grown men, probably both armed, and they couldn’t fight this thing. You’re not weak for dying to it.”

She sighs and leans against the corridor wall. 

“I saw it. That night when I was meant to die. I was getting into my car when I felt like something was watching me. It made my lights go out, chased me along the side of the road for almost a mile,” she stops and chokes a breath, trying to calm down. “I was so scared, I was crying but I didn’t want to pull over in case it caught up,”

She puts her head in her hands, taking deep breaths. You put a hand on her arm in comfort. 

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this,” she says. “Knowing that that thing is out there. I’m not even supposed to be here, how am I supposed to help?”

“If it helps, I’m not supposed to be here either,” you murmur, at a loss on what to say. 

She huffs out a bitter laugh. “Why didn’t you just run?” she asks. “You could have just kept your head down and not gotten involved, no one would blame you,”

“The same reason you’re not running, I suppose,” you reply quietly. 

The two of you stare at each other for several moments, before she gives you a nod and continues walking down the hall to the maintenance closet.

“Are you coming?” she calls over her shoulder to you. 

You jog to catch up, feeling like you’ve achieved a kinship with the girl. 

[dadsbongos]

chapter 3 - hungry howie's big date

2.6K words

warnings - mmm? daddy issues, i think that's it

prev. chapter / masterlist / next chapter

It’s during third-period chemistry with his favorite lab partner, Chrissy Cunningham, that Eddie is interrupted from work he was actually looking forward to. By Michael Wheeler of all people.

“Journalism Pass!” Mike holds up the back of his sister’s badge to Mrs. Clink and she bats her hand dismissively.

Chrissy tightens the scratched plastic goggles around her head while Eddie leans his hip against their work table, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently, “Yes, Wheeler?”

“There’s a showing of Rocky Horror that I wanna take Jane to this weekend.”

Eddie snorts, peeking over his shoulder at Chrissy, pressing the palm of her hand into her glossed lips to keep back her giggles, “That’s an R-rated movie, wonderboy.”

“Yeah,” Mike rolls his eyes, “and I still can’t date my girlfriend unless you’re dating her sister. So we both have good points.”

Brows shooting to her hairline, Chrissy “woah”s at the little guy’s audacity.

Eddie gestures flippantly to the lanky mess in front of him, “Right? Worse than Henderson, I tell you.”

She wide-eyed nods in agreement.

Returning to his cash cow, Eddie tilts his head - eyes narrowed, “So what? You wanna double-date at Rocky Horror?”

“No, obviously not,” looking through his peripherals, Mike notices Mrs. Clink staring at them a little too hard and turns so his and Eddie’s backs are facing the woman, “I just need you two to be out on a date so I can take out Jane. I also need you to get us into the movie and then leave. Or sit in a different row.”

So demanding, so unfavorable.

Eddie sticks out a hand, palm up, “Fifty. Now.”

Through a positively murderous stare, Mike asks, “What makes you think I have fifty bucks on me right now?”

A long huff passes through Eddie’s nose, “You’re a spoiled, conniving, upper-class nerd and you’re one of my best friends,” he curls his fingers into a fist twice before shoving his flat palm closer to Mike, “Now cough it.”

Similarly sighing, Mike bends down at the knee and yanks out a folded stack of crinkly ten-dollar bills from his sock.

Snatching up the money, Eddie pats Mike’s head as one would a dog, “Now if you wanna complete your Munson-ification process, stop carrying fat wads on your person,” he slaps the pad of tens against the bridge of Mike’s nose, “Everyone knows you’re rich, Wheeler - don’t flaunt it.”

Before Mike gets the chance to properly defend himself, Eddie tucks the money into the snug waistband of his boxers and shoos him away.

“I’ll figure out something for my beloved shrew, but right now Cunningham and I need to light scraps of metal on fire for an hour,” Eddie nudges Mike back by the shoulder and returns to the girl’s side.

She’s tugging on her rubber gloves while Eddie puts on his own pair of safety goggles.

“You know anything interesting going on this weekend?”

Blinking, Chrissy hums before the blankness brightens, “I think there’s an H&M sale in Indianapolis featuring some Laura Ashley stuff. She might like that.”

“Something easier on my fifty-buck budget, please?” he watches her light the Bunsen burner.

Shaking her head, Chrissy pouts, “Sorry, Eddie.”

“No worries,” he stares up at the water-stained ceiling, “I’ll just have to get my own idea.”

And getting Eddie to have his own idea is like asking a teen movie to not rip off the movies before it.

Eddie’s van sputters up to the Hopper cabin precisely two minutes after he said it would. Black backdrop and twinkling stars watch you shoo Eleven off and they awkwardly pull their collars and glance away when your father sternly calls your name before you can follow.

“You’ve had a bad attitude lately,” his hands are on his hips and he’s barely gotten out of his uniform, “I know you’re growing up and need your space, but if you’re gonna go out with this guy then I need to know who the man is.”

And flashing, headache-inducing red lights blare in the back of your mind at the idea of him meeting Eddie. So you resort to manipulation, “He’s a friend of Mike’s - isn’t that enough?”

“No,” he removes the Sheriff’s hat he’s always claimed squeezes too tight and runs a hand through his hair, “I barely like Mike. You expect me to like a senior he’s friends with that I’ve never even met?”

Glancing back, you can barely make out the pinched brows and overly invested lean of Eddie Munson’s concern through his tinted windows.

“Eddie Munson,” you’re too tired to fight and your eldest daughter intuition tells you Jim’s pager is about to go off soon anyways, “that’s the friend.”

“No!” he puts both hands up, evidently distressed, and you find joy in the way his gray hairs must be growing in, “No way.”

“Yes way,” you shrug and waltz towards the van, waving off your father, “I like him so play nice!” and you aren’t totally sure if you’re really saying that to piss him off or if it’s true. Jim opens his mouth to retort, so you lug the passenger side door open and shout before he can, “Can’t hear you over the pager that’s about to go off in two seconds!”

And before you’ve even got the van door closed, his pager does - in fact - go off.

Eddie wants to ask, and you see that, so you just nudge him with your elbow and he pulls out of the dirt driveway quickly.

“Intense fight there,” Eddie hisses through his teeth, “Honestly, I was about to put earmuffs on the kids - it was scary.”

It’s his way of prodding. Avoiding rejection by pretending it could be a joke and then still getting hurt if you turn him down.

“He’s just been up my ass ‘cuz I’m not going to college.”

Eleven comes forward, face puffing up between yours and Eddie’s seats, “You’re not going to college?!”

You shove her back by the shoulder, sick to the stomach at the idea of explaining your life plan (or lack thereof) to your little sister, “What’s the plan for tonight, Munster?”

“For them,” he braces, arms stiff and eyes nervously flickering between you and the rearview mirror, “an R-rated movie. For us? Leaving before the movie to go somewhere totally romantic.”

Avoiding rejection by pretending it could be a joke - his true specialty.

“Sounds spectacular,” you muse, and his arms loosen from their ramrod-straight position.

Totally romantic ends up being at Lover’s Lake next to his van. A threadbare, plaid blanket with a mysterious black stain in the upper right corner is laid over surrounding grass and rocks with a Hungry Howie’s Taxi yellow pizza box in the middle. You suspect the pizza is room temperature by now, but Eddie is nervously picking at his shoelace as he waits for you to sit down, so you choose to not say anything.

As soon as you sit beside him, Eddie shoots up onto his feet, hands bracing you for patience, “I almost forgot!”

Eddie slams open the back doors and disappears inside, you hear a clunk and curse before he tramples back out, uneven-footed and stumbling. A boombox in both hands, he sets it down and presses play.

The borderline waxing poetic opening guitar to Cinderella’s ‘Nobody’s Fool’ crackles over the speakers and Eddie hurriedly turns it down to a gentler hum.

“As long as you don’t listen to the lyrics, it’s kind of romantic,” Eddie pops open the Hungry Howie’s box and grease stains dot the top, “You probably don’t know, but most metal ballads- “ he gestures to the boombox leaking out Tom Keifer with raised brows, “even hair metal ballads - are not super romantic.”

“I can pretend,” you lean over his outstretched leg and brush against his leather-clad side to grab one of Howie’s infamously thick slices, “This is already the most well-thought-out date I’ve been on.”

And you haven’t been on many dates. Eddie knows that, too, but he decides to keep his big trap shut.

The pizza is room temperature by now, but Eddie so nervously tucks an arm into the swirling pit of his stomach and you decide to keep your own trap shut. Eddie can’t say why he’s so nervous - it shouldn’t matter whether or not you actually like him. It really, really shouldn’t, but he can’t help but hope you do.

“Uhm, so,” his eyes look nice under the shiny little pinprick stars, and you chastise yourself for focusing on that when he’s trying to talk to you, “I’m more than happy to listen if you wanna bitch about your problems with the old man. Not that you would be, you know, bitching bitching, just complaining. Yeah, complain. ‘Cuz you’re not a bitch, you know that- “

“Thanks, Eddie,” you cut him off, a hand on his shoulder. You finish off the slice of pizza in your other hand and shrug, “I mean, bitching doesn’t sound too bad if you actually mean it.”

“‘Course I do,” he turns to face you completely, the gentle swoosh of the lake water under moonlight easily forgotten in favor of you, “Trust me, sweetheart, if anyone gets parental problems, it’s me.”

“Well,” you normally have trouble talking about things like this, but something about Eddie makes you feel open. Like a social worker’s dream, he is the softest couch and sweetest candy bowl, “He’s always busy with work - way too busy for me and Jane. And when he is home, it’s about me not going to college and Jane’s stupid high school romance and my attitude as if he’s not the dickhead that causes it all in the first place…” you sigh, a physical weight off your chest, “Only good thing to come of his bullshit lately is that I get to paint in my ex-mom’s storage unit downtown.”

“Ex-mom is an interesting term.”

“Diane wanted to adopt me as a last-ditch attempt to save the family after their birth daughter died,” the years of this exact thought process echoing around your head prevent you from shutting up, “And then she decided she wanted nothing to do with either of us and just,” you make a ‘scatter-off’ motion with your hands, “Left behind divorce papers and then Jim was a wild alcoholic and wilder smoker until Jane came along and then… suddenly he wants to be better.”

The clarity hits you like a stack of bricks, that you spilled your guts embarrassingly fast and that mortification makes you look over to Eddie, who stares back with wide eyes.

“Anyways…”

“No, just- “ he grins and you can’t help but grin back, “I’ve never had someone actually trust me to just let go like that,”

“I’m glad to be the first.”

If Eddie truly had no inhibitions, he would’ve said he wants you to be his last.

And he doesn’t know where that comes from.

“What do you paint about?” so he leans back on his elbow and breaks the thick air. Shatters it completely like it was nothing to begin with.

You cringe preemptively, “My feelings.”

“Oh, a poetic type,” he punches your shoulder softly, “It’s cool, I write songs about that. All the mucky shit.”

You turn onto your stomach, propping your head up on your elbows and ignoring the soft ache it initially stirs in your chest, “Will you ever show me one of your songs?”

“Only if you show me your art.”

“You’re moving a bit fast.”

“Nah, that’s only - like - first base.”

You two linger there. Soft eyes and pouty lips and pizza cooling under the night sky. He hums, entirely to himself, and you lean forward to nudge his arm.

“What’s going on in your pretty head, Munster?”

“Honestly,” he’s quiet. So much quieter than he normally is, and that’s as scary as realizing his rejection hurt your feelings, “I’m just thinking about how you’re not nearly as mean as everyone says.”

“Yeah,” you turn onto your back, eyes up at the stars instead of Eddie’s kind face, “people usually assume you’re a bitch when you’re not smiling at them 24/7.”

He doesn’t respond, and that would be terrifying if he wasn’t motioning for you to continue.

“I mean, I’m not surprised,” so continue, you do, “People usually just expect women to smile and nod to whatever they say as if there’s no thoughts or feelings to each person,” at his persistent silence, you inhale sharply, “First base was actually my feminist rant all along.”

You look back over to Eddie and he’s smiling so big and wide, all for you - at the fear of misspeaking, he intentionally makes himself BooBoo the Fool, “I love Debbie Harry.”

“Oh my God!” you swat his shoulder and he falls onto his own back.

“I’m kidding,” his head swivels to lock eyes with you, sweet bambi eyes nothing except sincere, “but feminism is metal. Equality for all, I fuck with that.”

“I’m glad,” a sudden memory makes you giggle, and at Eddie’s curious stare you expand, “I actually dumped Jason Carver in freshman year because he said women should obey their husbands.”

He gags histrionically, “I’d never say that.”

“I figure.”

You’ve heard from older women the dangers of getting wine drunk with no men to kiss - being that sauced with that intense a romantic urge could kill someone, you’ve heard. And it’s strange - how just being around Eddie can drive you as mad as the stories you’ve heard.

You turn again, onto your side now, “Are you drunk?”

He looks at you like you’re nuts and you’re almost embarrassed at the fact that Eddie can actually drive you so crazy, “No.”

“I’m not drunk either.”

It takes him a painfully visible minute until finally, the lightbulb above his wild hair dings alight and Eddie excitedly matches your position. He tenderly puts a hand on your cheek, calluses purely lovely on your skin as he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

The ache in your chest that you imagine is what the prolonged poison of having no man to kiss when wine drunk hits, you nod, bizarrely giggly, “It’d feel like a personal attack if you didn’t.”

Maybe you were scared for nothing. Eddie seems like a sweet guy with sweet intentions and sweet words. His kiss is sweet, too. It tastes like the tomato sauce of Hungry Howie’s pizza and the weed he smokes and no sinister third thing lingers.

Eddie, however, feels sick. He needs to talk to Mike and he knows Wayne would punch any other guy straight in the head for doing what he’s done to you. He likes you. He likes your bitterness and your anger and the way you roll your eyes at his antics and he wants to soften your edges and he wants to be your one moment of sunshine. He can’t do that if he’s taking money to date you, so he needs to talk to Mike.

But for now, he likes kissing you on his old blanket with the coffee stain he can never get out and cold Hungry Howie’s pizza an arm’s length away.

“I can’t keep doing this,” Eddie has never doubted himself to the point of getting a hideous stomach ache, not even when he had to perform with Corroded Coffin in middle school, “I think I’m falling in love with her, Wheeler.”

“That’s perfect!” Mike, on the other hand, is purely ecstatic, teeth on display as he smiles, “Just keep taking her out, but without me paying you - Jane and I can keep seeing each other and you two are happy. Done deal, Munson,” and this excitement gives him the courage to smack Eddie on the arm, “Just be cool about it.”

“So just don’t tell her?”

“Exactly.”

His stomach twists tighter at that idea, but he swallows it down and pretends to be a little bigger than he is.

“Fine,” finally, he sighs it out, “We don’t talk about it.”

“We don’t talk about it.”

~~ how we rockin? good? good?

going outta state for like 3 days and remembered i should probably update this while i have it

[evilwriter37]

Last night I made an Amazon wish list for the babies instead of doom scrolling and I thought I’d send you an ask since your followers probably know more about my pets than my own. So, if anyone has the ability and wants to get my babies anything, feel free.

If you’re a follower of Archer and somehow managed to dodge all of my asks with my babies, then here’s an introduction.

This is Mora. She is a five year old long haired calico with a tiny little bobtail. She was born with it according to vets. She was found in a ditch when she was just a couple weeks old with her siblings. I kept her while her siblings all found homes elsewhere.

She is a spunky, clumsy, cuddly little girl. When I say little, I mean little. She weighs five pounds. She likes to play with her claws and lay on my head when I’ve slept I’m too long. She drools when she’s happy and gives the most pitiful, pathetic meow when she’s upset, like when I try to get her to take her allergy medicine. . . She is winning on that regard. I’ll think I’ve gotten her to take it and then boom! Ten minutes later I find it in the middle of the room. I don’t know how she does it.

This is Nebula. She is a six year old short haired dilute calico. She found me the day that one of our old family pets passed away and has been with me ever since.

She is very calm, precise, and deadly. She enjoys going outside and taking care of the rat problem we have. She will wake me up in the middle of the night of she hears something skittering in the walls. Once she snuck a cicada inside. Don’t worry though, she’s well watched when she goes outside by both me and people who work nearby. They’ve tried to give her pets but alas, she only likes them from me. Truly an honor.

This is Tiadrin. She is a two year old lhasa apao and poodle mix. She came into my life soon after the passing of my best friend.

She is energetic (as all puppies seem to be), very friendly, and just all around so sweet. She loves playing fetch and sharing her opinions. If I do not give her a treat before bed. . . Oh, dear, is everyone going to know. She’s not just a spoiled little girl though. No, no, no. She is very smart and we are currently working on some training. I just need to figure out how to make her stay still for long enough to learn that no matter how much she wants to say hi to every person she meets, the leash is not going to go slack. . . She’s so small though that the harness I have for her is loose (but of course if I get a size smaller it’ll be too small) and she can slip out of it. I persist regardless!

This is Brother Bear. He is an eleven year old lab mix. I got him when he was just an itty bitty baby with his sister (who is no longer with us).

He is a very anxious baby. He and his sister were very, very close and since she passed he’s been so very lost. He found some comfort in my boy Scooby but now he’s no longer with us either. He and Nebula have been grieving together.

It’s not all sadness for this boy though. Despite his arthritis and several other health issues, he is still so energetic and so loving. He can out play me any day. He gives my hand kisses and lets me give him long hugs. We often times just lay with each other by our side. He is such a comforting, calming presence with far more patience than I will ever have.

So, here’s some more about the babies if you knew them already and here’s your introduction if you don’t. I’m starting up school in a couple months and most of my money will be going towards that when I can finally find a job, so if you want to spoil them while I can’t, please feel free to!

I love your pets so much, but you already knew that. I'm sure my followers love them too!

Spoil their pets if you can! They're cuties!

[nebulousfishgills]

💔🍷💄🐞🧣🎒 for Emily please?

Random OC ask game drop because it's 1:30 AM (when I started this one) and brain doesn't wanna sleep, so here we go.

💔 - Who has your character hurt most? Physically or emotionally? How did it feel? Do they regret it?

Ooh, that's actually a hard one because, as we know, Emily is Not A Good Person and has left many broken people in her wake, literally.

I suppose the obvious answer would be Eleven since she and Henry have been tormenting her for years at this point. She bore witness to their massacre and then the seven or so years after that involved sending out Demogorgons to find her (maybe), using the Mind Flayer to infect and hurt her friends while trying to locate and snatch her, arguably it's their fault she thought Hopper died, and then doing things like taking Max away and breaking Hawkins. It's a hefty list and most of the motivation is being bitter and petty over the fact that an abused eight year old child saw all her companions slaughtered and didn't immediately run to their arms.

But somehow, some way, I think at least some part of Emily feels bad about it. The canonicity of her being their daughter is still up in the air at this point, but that doesn't even necessarily have to factor into it. They may be rivals now, but for a while, Emily was the closest thing Eleven had to a mother figure in Hawkins Lab, arguably the only other one she's had aside from Joyce. Emily's perception of her mother is extremely poor, so in my mind, there's that small part of her that feels bad for hurting this daughter/daughter figure of hers when she knows she's still haunted by what her own mother did. And abandoning Emily because she couldn't take care of her is way further down on the severity scale.

So, I think Eleven might take that spot, with Eddie being a runner up since it's Emily's fault he had to go on the run and ultimately get killed, let alone lobbing the betrayal aspect onto it. And that's including me factoring in her Twilight era since that's actively her being a better person and not hurting people like that. I suppose you could throw Aro onto that list since in the span of like, a day, she seized control of his empire and killed him because she got cockblocked one too many times.

🍷- Does your OC drink? What kind of alcohol do they enjoy? What are their drinking habits? What kind of drunk are they?

Okay, so Emily canonically avoids substances that impair her. Drugs, alcohol, the like. It's less so because she hates the tipsy/high feeling and moreso because those things scramble her brain and disconnect her from her abilities. She's very reliant on them both as a tool for defense/attack/what have you, but just as a general crutch. It's well within reason to assume that without access to her powers, she feels weak or even helpless.

Not to say she's soley dependent upon them, of course, I think being friends with Eddie Munson alone means she can land a punch and some rougher treatment, but she sees losing access to her powers as like being disarmed. She can still hold her own, but it's way easier for her to just use her abilities.

And discounting the telekinesis and crushing people's bones aspect, her powers are how she can feel Henry's presence even from dimensions away and vice versa. It's like having a waypoint, a little emotional guide, and if her brain is scrambled, she can't access that either.

But I'll bite and pose a hypothetical. Honestly, I could see Emily being multiple kinds of drunk. Angry drunk comes to mind immediately, but I could just as easily see her blubbering and slurring all of her woes on the sofa while wasted. Maybe she can be flirtatious depending on her mood. Drunk Emily would start a fight, cry about being abandoned by her mother, and then try to climb Henry like a tree in the span of about ten minutes.

💄- What does your OC think of their face? Do they have a positive or negative opinion? Do they wear makeup? Do they have a skincare routine? What traits do they like most about their face?

In all honesty I think Emily has mixed feelings about her face, especially once she gets her scars. Because on one hand, they make her stand out and look freakish, but on the other I think she likes the intimidation it brings

I honestly don't think she thinks about it all that much unless she's in public. She knows the damage could have been ten times worse since she watched Henry decay in real time. I don't think she hates her scars themselves, and moreso hates the attention they bring since she prefers to Not Be Perceived by Hawkins since she's basically being covert to spy on The Party.

But at the end of the day, she really only cares about her opinion and Henry's, and he has not a single bad thing to say about her. And honestly, I think any skincare routine she'd do would amount to just water and whatever shampoo trickles down with it. Maybe a lotion if a dry patch is bothering her. She just would not understand the need to go so far for your skin since, to her, most beauty routines and standards are bullshit and unecessary.

Emily would probably accuse you of, like, speaking in tongues if you said anything about hyaluronic acid or whatever the fuck.

Now, we kind of push against that boundary when we hit makeup because if we take Vampire Emily into account, part of her arc is accepting the fact that she can enjoy feminine things without immediately tying it to pointless social constructs and rejecting it for that.

I'm not someone who wears makeup basically at all save for costumes or just wanting to wear mascara because I think it makes my eyes look more defined, in fact I think I look weirder with it on. A lack of vanity is something I impart on all my characters because that's just not something I care about.

But the crow inside me that likes shiny things loves going into beauty stores for the bright colors. I feel like Emily would be somewhat the same way. That's how Heidi helped Emily open up a bit, like "look at all the fuzzy brushes and bright colors of the eye shadow." Also, again, Heidi telling her that makeup isn't just a conformity or for hiding who you actually are because society says women have to look a certain, perfect way. Sometimes it's just fun to do it for the hell of it.

Also, to her credit, makeup would be hard with how her scars were. Once she turns, the scars fade away and it opens up a better canvas for her.

Ultimately I think Emily's relationship with her face is just "yeah it's there, I don't need to doll it up because it doesn't matter and also my boyfriend (whichever one) still thinks I look hot either way, so suck it."

🐞 - What does a perfect day look like for your OC? What do they do? Who do they see?

The fact that this question is represented by a ladybug is perfect since that's what Henry's nickname for her is. It ties into my answer to this question, because regardless of who she's partnered up with at the time, Emily's ideal day is just a day where it's just her and Henry/Caius. Nobody else.

In Hawkins especially, she deeply dislikes people so a day where she just doesn't see them is already wonderful. If we add onto that, I think she'd also prefer a day where she doesn't feel burdened or stressed out about anything. She lays in bed with Henry and all she has to worry about is just enjoying his company. Maybe they talk, maybe he reads to her, maybe they sit by a riverbank and let their feet rest in the water. Just a genuinely unburdened day with Henry, imagining what their human free utopia would be like.

The thing you have to remember is that Emily's a bad person whose actions are rooted in wanting to be free of her pain and just live a peaceful, happy life, something she's been robbed of for nearly forty years. At this point in time, that looks like living alone and in silence with Henry and their abnormalities. She thinks the human system is stopping her from getting that, so it's gotta go.

And, honestly, I'd wager to say her perfect day with Caius looks very very similar. She's still Emily with the same nihilistic worldview, she's just more stable with a wider support system. The thriving after a life of surviving. She's an introvert who can't handle being around people all the time since it's unpredictable and overwhelming. That's a central plank in her snapping in Necrosis and overhauling the whole system. She just couldn't get a moment of peace with Caius because of other people.

So, her ideal day is just having one day of some fucking peace and quiet, but in luxury this time. Maybe a bath, sitting in the gardens, being read to by Caius (being read to is a constant, both because I love it, and also it's that childhood trauma piece, being robbed of bedtime stories, mundane may it be), maybe hunting in the woods if the mood was right... and, you know, banging.

I will omit the references from HotD we got this week.

🧣- What comforts your OC? Is it an item? An action? A person? Whatever it is, how and why does it comfort them?

Emily's unfortunately somebody who has lacked many comforts in her life. Whoever her spouse is at the time is like the one constant comfort in the form of a person. Regardless of where she is in life or who she surrounds herself with, the only true comfort and peace she knows is with her partner. Yeah, she has a certain dependency, but that's just part of her character.

Actions, I've already mentioned being read to, but I'd also say drawing is another one since in Hawkins Lab, that was like, the one thing she was allowed to do that wasn't hyper focused on her abilities, the one way she was able to express herself. I always headcanoned that she carried a sketchbook around with her sometimes that Eddie snooped through a few times. Landscapes (i.e. imagining a beautiful, human free world), the occasional manic Mind Flayer doodle, halfway decent drawings of Henry's face (to remember what it looked like pre-Vecna), and the drawing she did of the Creel House as a child when she first showed up in the lab is taped on the inside cover.

Eddie never questions her about this, of course, he shouldn't have been snooping in the first place. Even if he's unaware of her powers, he's sure she would beat his ass for looking in her stuff.

Another comfort action is playing with her hair/scratching her scalp. This is one of those me-traits that I passed on because that shit is the best feeling in the world to me. It always puts me at ease, and I wanted to give that to Emily.

As far as comfort objects, I couldn't give any that are at the same capacity of the other comforts I listed. The sketchbook, maybe her D&D dice, some clothing item of Henry's/Caius' (in fact it might be one of Caius' scarves), it could be anything. She's not really a materialistic person since she's used to having nothing. Objects don't comfort her in the same way those other things do.

🎒- What items does your OC usually carry? Do they have a bag or just keep everything in their pockets? Do they carry a lot or a little?

Again, Emily has almost nothing to her name. Day to day, she doesn't carry much since most times she's in the Upside-Down and doesn't necessarily have the *need* to carry much. But she does have a bag for her Overworld visits, I usually picture it as a dirty old black backpack with a broken zipper and a hole in one of the small front pockets.

Usually when she goes to the Overworld, she only has a few essential things:

-Sketchbook/pencils/pens

-Anything required for D&D, so like her dice, handbook, character sheet, etc.

-Possibly some kind of pocket knife both as a tool and also for self defense in case it's really not a good idea to use her powers

-Any cash/change she's gotten her hands on.

Other than that, it's just the clothes on her back, I'd say. In Volterra she has even less use for things to always have on her. Although she does feel like someone who'd have occasional stickey note notes in her pockets that she forgets about until months later.

I don't know, it's 3 am now so I'm just gonna call it there.

[cult-of-the-placeholder]

Uhhhh so. I can't draw, so please don't throw rocks at me 😅 is anyone gonna see this? DUNNO. But I'm throwing it into the void anyway

Behold: 4 cute babies for me to traumatize with my War on the Lamb AU

This AU wouldn't exist without @heketsbroodau and their amazing fics. Go read them! Literally right now! All of them! Every single one!!!!!!!

The general idea this WotL AU works with goes as follows:

- The demigod children of the bishops (cousins), quailing and listless in the wake of their parents' slaughter, decide to counter attack and wage war on the lamb for ruining their lives and killing the family they loved so dearly

- In each brood, one was voted amongst the siblings to take up the Crowns to use their power to lead the vengeance quest (because the crowns are at least partially sentient, I imagine that they vanished when their bearers died to keep themselves from being ceased)

- The children have mostly been raising themselves since the lamb destroyed... literally everything

- They're planning to essentially use one of themselves as a sacrifice: taking up the Red Crown and agreeing to be locked away in eternal banishment to prevent it from ever causing trouble and strife again

Though their ages when each Bishop died varies, they are in order: Adami, Ylindri, Phereo, and finally No Name. When Shamura dies, their ages go as follows: 19 (Adami), 14 (Ylindri), 12 (Phereo), No Name (9). When the story kicks off they'll all likely be in their 20s but I haven't decided fully yet.

Adami:

As the oldest amongst the cousins, she feels it is the duty of her and her siblings to look after the younger ones. She loves them all very much, every, single, one. She and her dad were really close, and though she didn't have his aptitude for magic she was a born scientist at heart. She was always tucked away in the temple labs, fussing with bacteria cultures and scribbling in her notebooks. Thoroughly enjoyed Kallamar's genetics hobby, and still has the the very first genome they ever wrote together memorized

When he died, she and her siblings all felt it. They heard the commotion and tried so, so hard to get to him, but Kallamar had cast a magic ward on the temple's inner sanctum, preventing his children from entering or even coming near, not trusting that Narinder's appetite for destruction wouldn't extend to his little ones. He was right, and only after he'd been dead for several hours did the barrier fade

Adami wrote her own speech for his funeral but was crying too hard to deliver it, so it fell to her older sibling to speak on her behalf. She was very much a daddy's girl, and prays at his shrine almost every day, wishing for a peaceful afterlife for him, begging her uncle to be kind (though she knows he won't be)

She splits the Blue Crown with one of her siblings: she's the best scientific mind they've got and is therefore excellent for inflicting biowarfare, but she's got -3 magical ability and so whenever there's need for mass healing or protective magic, it goes to her sibling

Would've probably become a very sweet, bubbly person if not for losing Kallamar. She's a lot more reserved these days, but is still generally pretty peppy when excited about something

Ylindri:

As mentioned above she's the most unbalanced of Shamura's children: meaning, while their domain is wisdom and war, she skewed heavily toward the first one. The majority of the spiderlings (eleven of them in total) are right in the middle, wielding their brains and brawn as one. There's only one other severe skew like Ylindri: her older sister, who's very skewed toward war

A scholar first and foremost, she spent countless days studying medicine and old divine texts trying to find a way to help her Lifegiver's brain damage. She regularly helped change their bandages

Worried they might forget them all, Ylindri wove her Lifegiver a special band of spider silk, which each of their names and a prayer for health delicately woven in. Her hope was that their love would stay with Shamura easier, and might help them feel better. Shamura wears it on their 4th wrist

In public Ylindri calls Shamura her Lifegiver, in private they are Ama

Very softspoken, and thoroughly heartbroken by Shamura's death. Tried to stop them from going to meet the lamb in the sanctum, but their mind had slipped again and Shamura didn't truly recognize her in that moment

Phereo:

Leshy's thirdborn child and second daughter. Is the only girl to have wings but has sworn off flying after Leshy's death

They were really close, and Leshy actually died while the children were in their first chrysallis (they're demigodlings. They undergo multiple metamorphoses in their lives), so when she emerged she and her siblings were greeted by the sorrowful Witness and the earth-shattering news that they had been orphaned

They preserved Leshy's remains so that his childreb could attend the funeral, but Phereo didn't go. She couldn't bear the thought. She was so terrified to make her chrysallis because everyone knows that girls don't have wings, and the only thing that got her to start spinning was her father's promise to be ready to recieve her when she'd emerged, and the whispered secret of, "You're just as I was. You'll be fine." After that, she doesn't want to appear in public, doesn't want anyone to see her, and spends all her time locked in her room mourning the loss of Leshy

She's got hardcore depression in wake of her dad's death. Everything is unstable and scary and she feels so lost and out of sorts. Years pass and her mental health stabilizes but doesn't improve: when the cousins start planning their war and how to defeat the Red Crown for good, she offers her body to the cause. She'll hsve to be banished and locked away, for all eternity. If it will avenge Leshy's death and let her go to a place where she can forget that she exists, then she's happy to do it

Someone get this worm therapy smh

No Name:

Someone seriously help me name him I've gone through like 5 names and none feel right 😭

The smallest, height wise and age wise. He hates it

This froggy is a MAMA'S BOY. He was very, very close with Heket, and loved her more than life itself. She was his mother, after all--there was no one in the world he loved more. The whole gaggle of froglets found Heket's still cooling corpse in the Temple sanctum, and just. Basically did Simba and mufasa. Just kinda snuggled against her and begged her to get up, to heal, to be ok

I don't have a whooole lot of development for him but he's generally pretty quiet and brooding. Very angy. Late teenage angst when thebwar starts but also his mom was murdered by the guy they're waging war on so  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Regardless. He's not having a good time. Eats his feelings a lot and is quietly hoping the war kills him

Was voted among his siblings to bear the Yellow Crown and he despises it. It feels so wrong, like the desecration of his mother's memory, to have him stand in her place and wear that which rightfully belongs to her and no one else. Prays to the crown every morning before he puts it on, asking his mother's forgiveness and hoping to serve her memory well

[middleearthpixie]

Better Days ~ Chapter Eleven

Summary: Frerin Durin had the perfect life, until he found out his wife was cheating on him. Now, he’s navigating uncharted territory as an about-to-be divorced single dad. Dating is a mess, he’s dealing with the fallout where his kids are concerned, and really, he would just love a vacation away from all of it. 

Elena Madison is new to Sidleburg, and also navigating life as a newly single parent. The last thing she needed was for her daughter to come down sick, when she hasn’t even had time to unpack the moving boxes, never mind find a pediatrician. And the last thing she ever expected was to meet a man like Dr. Frerin Durin…

Neither Elena nor Frerin were looking for anything, but fate has a way of messing up even the best laid plans. However, both have been hurt and both aren't at all sure they trust themselves, never mind trusting someone else...

Pairings:  Modern!Frerin  x ofc Elena Madison

Characters: Frerin, Elena, Carol, Ashley, Vanessa, various other hospital staff and patients

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.7k 

Tag List: @mrsdurin @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketch-and-write-lover @sherala007 @enchantzz @knittastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78 @sorisooyaa @ruthoakenshield @frosticenow@quiall321 @dianakc @buckybarnes-thorin @glassgulls @evenstaredits @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @albionscastle @absentmindeduniverse @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @sazzlep @court-jobi @masterofhounds

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here. 

“Dr. Durin?”

Please let this be a dream. I just closed my fucking eyes.

“Dr. Durin?”

“Mmmm?”

“Dr. Durin!” Leigh’s voice rang with sharp impatience. 

Nope, not a dream. He fumbled his way up from a semi-thick muck of sleep to mutter, “Yeah?”

“You’re needed in the ER.”

“Why this time?”

“Eight year old in respiratory distress coming in.”

“Can’t Gillis take it?”

“She’s not on until eight.”

Frerin lifted his arm to squint at his watch. His eyes didn't want to focus at first, so he brought his wrist a little closer to make it easier on them. Ten to four in the morning. “Where is McElroy?”

“Out with the flu.”

“Shit. Okay,” he sat up, rubbing his eyes with one hand as he reached for his lab coat, draped over the foot of the sofa in his office with the other. “How much time do I have?”

“They’ll be here in five.”

He got to his feet with a groan, trying to ignore the dull ache in his lower back. “I should just switch specialties,” he muttered as he dragged on the coat. “I spend more time down there than I do up here anyway.”

“So talk to Reese.”

He glared at Leigh as he tugged his hot pink stethoscope from beneath the pillow to drape about his neck. “You’re not helping.”

“Was I supposed to be helping?”

“Yeah, actually.”

“Sorry, Dr. D.”

“Yeah, yeah…” He and Leigh parted ways at the desk and at the elevator bank, he pushed the down button. When the doors slid open, he stepped in, hit the button for the ER, then sank back against the wall with a yawn. 

The doors slid open into chaos, otherwise known as a normal Saturday night. Sidleburg was in the more western part of the state, but like everywhere else, it was growing more and more developed every week. It wouldn’t be long before Sidleburg Memorial would be every bit as busy as the hospitals in Newark, New Brunswick, and Trenton were. And with the same traumas the more urban areas saw as well. Gunshot injuries had increased by about thirty percent in the last six months alone, according to data reports. Little by little, even the rural areas had urban problems.

He came around front desk. “You paged me?” 

The young woman working there was unfamiliar to him and she offered up a shy smile. “Dr. Durin?”

“That’s me. Jamie, right?”

She nodded, tucking a wayward lock of dark brown hair behind her ear. She was the most recent hire and she looked almost embarrassed to have paged him. “I’m so sorry to bother you, Dr. Durin. But it’s a little kid.”

“It’s okay. That’s why I’m here.” He squinted at the board while reaching for the right forms to clip to a board. “Who else is on tonight?”

“Dr. McDonald, Dr. Walker, and Dr…. Cooper?”

“Coerper, but close enough.” He smiled. She looked nervous enough as it was and the ER was was always a baptism by fire for new clerks. “This your first night?”

She nodded. “Yeah… It’s been… interesting. It’s really busy down here tonight.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed.” Red lights reflected off the walls as an ambulance pulled up and EMTs jumped out. “Carol, give me a hand?”

“As if you had to ask.” 

He smiled as she took the clipboard from him, then followed him to meet the EMTs. “What do you have?” he asked.

“Lilah Hernandez, eight years old in respiratory distress. Mom said she was diagnosed with asthma two months ago, but it’s been under control until tonight.”

“Okay. Let’s get a weight check first.” He smiled down at the little girl with wide dark eyes who looked utterly terrified as she struggled to breathe despite the oxygen mask over her nose and mouth. “I’m Dr. Durin, honey, and don’t worry, Mom’s right behind but until she gets here, I’m going to take good care of you, okay?”

Her dark eyes were wide and almost glassy with fear even as she nodded and managed a roughly whispered, “Okay.”

“Good.” He slipped the earpieces of his stethoscope in and slid the diaphragm beneath the fuzzy pink pajama top with unicorns on it. As she tried to grab his wrist, he said, “No, no, honey. Let me listen, okay? I have to hear your lungs.”

“No, don’t…”

“Shhh… It’s all right,” he told her, then glanced up at Carol. “She’s eight, so that would be roughly forty to seventy pounds and she’s tiny, so I’m guessing maybe fifty, fifty-five pounds, so that would be what? Twenty… five kilograms? Get me two-point-five of albuterol continuous nebs.”

“You got it.”

The doors banged open and a disheveled looking woman, also in her pajamas burst into the room. “Lilah? Oh, my God…Honey…”

Frerin looked up at Jamie, who stood with the woman. “This the mom?”

Jamie nodded. “That’s what she said, but she—”

“This is my daughter,” the woman interrupted. “Please… just help her!”

“We are.” He looked back at Jamie, who’d gone pale. “We’ve got it from here, Jamie.”

“Oh, thank god…” she breathed as she hurried out of the room.

The small fingers on his wrist tightened and he glanced down to see Lilah’s eyes had grown wider still and she breathed more heavily now, fogging the mask as she shook her head. Frerin looked over at Carol. “Take Mrs. Hernandez to the waiting area, Carol?”

Carol nodded and passed the clipboard to Vanessa. “Of course. Mrs. Hernandez, if you’d just come with me. We should let the doctor work.”

“No,” Mrs. Hernandez said, jerking back as Carol reached for her. “I want to stay with my baby!”

“Mrs. Hernandez, it’s better to wait outside.” Carol caught her by the elbow

“No!” The woman swung about and shoved Carol, who slammed back into the tray of equipment, knocking everything to the floor. 

“Call Security!” Frerin told Vanessa as the woman tried to grab Lilah off the gurney. He swung about to put himself between her and the little girl, gritting back a curse as the woman’s fingernails bit into the side of his neck and raked along his skin. 

“You give me back my daughter, now!”

The doors swung open and hospital security caught the woman to drag her off Frerin, and as they pulled her from the room, he called, “I need that albuterol.”

“Got it.” Vanessa wheeled the nebulizer over. “What was that all about?”

“I don’t know.” Frerin ignored the sting in his neck as he focused on Lilah, who had a bluish tint to her lips now. “You’re going to be okay, sweetheart, I promise.” 

He glanced up at Carol. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” She picked up her clipboard and made the notations on the chart. “You?”

“I’ll live.” He slipped the mask up over Lilah’s nose and off her head, then held out the nebulizer. “I need you to put this in your mouth, okay? And then just try to breathe normally. Can you do that?”

“I—I think so…”

“Good.” He let her take it and as she put the mouthpiece in, he added, “That’s it. Just breathe like you normally do.”

She inhaled and promptly began coughing, so he took the mouthpiece back. “It’s okay, Lilah. Clear your lungs and we’ll try again.”

She nodded, then slid the mouthpiece back into her mouth. This time, her breathing remained relatively smooth and calm and her color began to return to normal. Frerin smiled, smoothing her hair away from her face. “Why don’t we see if your mother has calmed and little and we—”

“She’s not… not my mother…”

“What?”

Lilah shook her head, her eyes shimmering with tears. “She’s not… my… mother…”

“Okay. It’s okay, honey, you just concentrate on breathing.” He looked over at Carol. “Get SPD over here now.”

“I will. You should have that looked at,” she gestured to her neck, “it’s bleeding like crazy.”

“I’m fine. Get the police, okay?” He turned back to Lilah. “It’s okay, honey. You’re safe here now.”

Lilah nodded, leaning her head back, and closed her eyes. Frerin met Vanessa’s gaze. “Keep an eye on her, okay? I’ll be right back. Get me if anything changes.”

“I will.”

He straightened up, patted Lilah through the blanket, and then left the exam room to join Carol at the phone just outside the door. She glanced over, then reached to snag a gauze pad off the cart on the far side of the hallway and handed it to him. “I’m on with SPD and that is a mess. She did a number on you.”

He sighed softly, taking the gauze pad to tear into the wrapper, and pressed it to the damp spot on the side of his neck, wincing at the hot sting that burned through him with the pressure. 

“Yes, hi, this is Carol Kingsley in the ER at Sidleburg Memorial. We have an eight year old girl who might have been kidnaped. Security has the woman posing as her mother and we’ve got the child in our care right now.”

Frerin peered in through the doors to see Vanessa talking to Lilah. Carol broke through his reverie with a soft, “They’re sending someone over. A girl matching her description was reported missing just outside Hamilton a little over a week ago.” 

“Wonderful.” He looked back at Carol. “How bad is it, really?”

He drew away the gauze, which was more scarlet than white and Carol winced. “It’s pretty bad, Frerin. Come on, let me clean it for you. When was your last tetanus shot?”

“Six months ago. I got bitten by a four year old who thought he was a vampire.” He followed Carol into an unoccupied exam room. 

“Lucky you.”

“Yeah. But I’d rather deal with that than a full grown woman losing her grip on me.”

She moved to the counter, taking out fresh gauze and reached up to take a bottle of hydrogen peroxide from the cabinet. “So, what was the deal with the mystery woman you brought in today.”

“Elena?” He smiled, tugging his collar away as he leaned his head to the side. “She’s… it’s tough to explain. I’d say she was a woman I’m seeing but—ow!” He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth at the sudden burn of peroxide on his neck.

“Sorry about that. It might sting a little.”

“Thanks.”

“Anyway, go on,” Carol pressed the gauze to his neck.

“I haven’t actually taken her out anywhere except for coffee this morning.”

“She looked familiar.”

“She and her daughter were in here last week. That’s how I met her.”

“Nice. Hitting on a patient’s mom?”

“I didn't hit on her. Not here, anyway. I bumped into her in the gym and asked for her number there.” He sucked in another breath as Carol swiped gently along his neck. “Tell me it’s stopped bleeding, at least.”

“I think so. Let me just bandage it for you.”

“Thanks.”

“So, are you seeing her again?” Carol moved to the counter once more, rummaging about in a drawer for a large bandage.

“Yeah. We’re going out to dinner tonight. I’m just hoping I don't fall asleep halfway through. I’m not twenty-five any more.”

“You’re hardly old, you know.”

“I know.” He smiled as she smoothed the bandage into place and then turned to meet her gaze. “But it’s taking its toll, the overnights.”

“Nah. You don't look tired.”

“I hide it well.”

“Dr. Durin?” Jamie poked her head around the door. “SPD is here to talk to you about the Hernandez girl.”

“Okay. I’ll be right there.”

Carol stepped back. “Go. I’ll go check on Lilah.”

He moved to the door and grabbed the handle. “I have to admit, this was not on my ER bingo card.”

“Hey,” Carol called as he stepped through the doorway, “ are the rumors true?”

He paused. “What rumors?”

“That you’re possibly opening a pediatric ER down here?”

He smiled. “They might be. I’ve been down here enough lately.”

“For what it’s worth, I think it’s a great idea.”

“Thanks, Carol. You realize, I’m going to pull into to work it with me if Reese gives it the go ahead.”

“It would be a nice change. Go, your detective is waiting for you.”

“So, what time is dinner?”

Elena smiled across the table at Alyssa. “Seven. Can I trust you to not burn the building down?”

“I think I can manage.” Alyssa got up to go to the fridge. “What are you wearing?”

“I don’t know. Jeans. A sweater.”

“For a date with Dr. Hottie?”

“Lyssa.”

“Mom.”

“Lyssa.”

“Mom.”  Alyssa grinned. “I can do this all day, you know.”

“Alyssa.”

“Okay. You win. For your date?” Alyssa tugged open the fridge door and reached in for the bottle of orange juice. “I mean, I know he’s been here for dinner and you met him in a crappy ER, of all places, but don’t you want to look hot for him?”

Elena rose from her chair to go to the Keurig. “I haven’t really thought about it. It’s been a long time since I was on a date. And I’m not so sure I can pull off hot.”

“You went out with that accountant last summer.”

“That was not a date. That was a mistake.”

“He was a nerd.”

“Alyssa.”

“What? He was!” Alyssa brought the OJ back to the table and sank in to her chair again. Pouring a glass of juice, she added, “And Dr. Durin—see, no Dr. Hottie this time—is not a nerd. Let’s finish breakfast and I’ll find you something to wear. And trust me, Mom, you can definitely pull off hot.”

Elena smiled. “Thank you, but I think you might be a little biased.”

“Well, yeah. You’re my mom. But really, you still have it, Mom. I wouldn’t lie to you about that.”

Elena wasn’t quite as certain, but it was nice her daughter thought so. Still.. “Lyssa, I can dress myself.”

“Yeah, but I’ll make you look good.”

Elena chuckled. “Fair enough.”

Her cell rang then and she picked it up, smiling as Frerin’s number came up. “Good morning, Dr. Durin.”

“Yeah, I wish,” he said, and she winced at the sheer exhaustion woven through his voice. “I hate to do this, Elena, but I’m going to have to cancel tonight. I’ve got to pull a double.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Disappoint swelled within her, but she fought to tamp it down. “What happened?”

“We’ve got two docs out with the flu and one on vacation. So, I’m between the ER and Pedes today, and strictly in the ER tonight until tomorrow morning. And I’ll be a zombie by then. And I hate to do it, like I said, but I’m in a bind and trying to get something off the ground here, so I have to earn myself a few brownie points somehow and this is it.”

“Well, that’s what happens when you’re in charge. And it’s okay. Dinner will wait.”

“Yeah, but I didn't want to. I was looking forward to seeing you tonight.”

“Me, too. But another time.”

“Definitely.” Voices chimed in behind him, and then he said, “Shit, I’ve got to go, Elena. I’ll give you a call when things slow down, okay?”

“I think you should probably take a nap instead. You’re in for a long shift.”

“Don’t remind me. I’ll talk to you.”

“Bye, Frerin.”

“Bye.”

She clicked off and sighed as she set down the phone. “He’s got to work tonight to cover for someone.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mom.”

“Yeah, me, too.” She stood up and picked up her coffee cup as well. “I’m going to go jump in the shower.”

“I’ll be here.”

Elena smiled as she turned and padded down the hallway to the bathroom, where her smile faded. She’d been looking forward to going out with Frerin, looked forward to what might happen once they were alone once more. To say she was disappointed didn't even begin to describe  how she felt.

But there was nothing she could do about it. And it was just as well, really. She still had plenty of quizzes that needed to be graded before school tomorrow. So instead of eating Thai food with an incredibly sexy pediatrician, she would do that instead. It really was for the best.

At least, that’s what she tried to tell herself.

But she was full of it and she knew it. 

[portaltothevoid]

For Whom the Bell Tolls - Chapter 28 - Never Tear Us Apart

Pairing: Eddie Munson x OFC (Kat Ramsay), sequel to Foolin’

Summary: The Hawkins Team goes to Warzone and then prepares their weapons.

Warnings: fluff, cute moments between everyone, the calm before the storm

Word count: 3.8k

Chapter song: Never Tear Us Apart by INXS

Tag list: @munchabunch​ @madaboutmunson​ @earl-greater​

“Do you really think that plan could work?” Nancy asked.

“How would you plan on doing this, exactly?” Dustin chimed in.

“I’m not totally sure, but I mean, it’s my mind. Not his, right? So I just need to control where I am. I just need to… push him away? Find a happy memory and go there,” said Max.

“Okay, but you think Vecna would even let that happen?” Robin wondered.

“Look, this isn’t foolproof. I mean, that’s where things are gonna get tricky. It’s Max’s mind, sure, but I know he’ll do whatever he can to try and control everything. So it’s not gonna be easy at all. But as long as you don’t stop running until you find that memory and me in there, we have a chance. We have a chance at distracting him until Steve, Nancy, and Robin take their shots,” Kat explained. 

With that, Steve pulled into the War Zone and parked the Winnebago behind the building. “Alright we’re here,” he announced.

“It’ll be best if you two,” Nancy stated looking at Kat and Eddie, “stay here while we go in. Dustin and Lucas, too.”

“Ah, ah, ah. Don’t even bother wasting your breath. They are looking for everyone and anyone from Hellfire. If they find either of you, it’ll be bad.”

“Erica’s right. We don’t have time,” Nancy agreed.

“While you guys go on a shopping spree, I’m gonna try and let Eleven know our plan while you guys are in there,” Kat said.

“I’ll keep an eye out while Kat travels,” Dustin said.

“I don’t know, just make sure I look like a total badass. Lady Applegate, I trust you won’t let me down?” Eddie asked.

“Okay, that’s perfect. What are you guys gonna need?” Steve asked.

“I’m on it,” Erica agreed.

“I need propane. Combat boots would be cute. Size 8, please. Oh and someone please get a pair for Steve? I don’t even know how you’ve lasted this long barefoot, my god. Actually, a whole new outfit would be nice. For me. Robin, I entrust you with that task. And a bottle of ammonia,” Kat rattled off. At the mention of her name, Robin responded with a two fingered salute.

“Propane?” Dustin asked.

“Yeah, it’s for… Don’t worry about it, okay? Just get me like…”

“Three gallons,” Eddie finished for her.

“That’s how big it is? Okay, yeah. Three gallons.”

“Why ammonia?” asked Lucas.

“In case shit goes really south and you need to pull me back. That’s what they would use at the lab if we… if we couldn’t find our way back…” Kat trailed off. 

“Alright, you got it,” Nancy said as she handed out little pieces of paper to everyone. “We have to get our shit and get out. And Kat, Eddie, you guys need to stay right there, out of sight from the windows. Speed is key here, understood?” Nancy said, leading the group.

Everyone nodded. “Alright then, let’s do this,” Steve said as he unlocked the door and got out first. One by one they all left.

“Dustin, Lucas, either of you got a walkie on you?” Kat asked. Dustin fished around in a backpack, knowing exactly what Kat was asking. He pulled out a walkie and set it on a station where the only thing coming through was static.

“Bandana, Eddie?” Kat asked, holding out her hand. Eddie leaned up, yanked it from his pocket, and ignored her outstretched hand. He propped himself up on his knee and gently tied it around her eyes. “Thanks,” she said with a crooked smile before her features turned stoic.

Within seconds, her beat up shoes walked through the watery void. She focused on Eleven, in her white bodysuit. She honed in on the energy she had felt back in Max’s house. Off in the near distance, Eleven faded into view. She was pacing around a room that looked like a bunker.

“I see her,” Kat told Dustin and Eddie. “Eleven? Can you hear me?” she called out to her former labmate. But there was no response. One did say that she had more power than Eleven. Perhaps that was why she was able to see her right away and she couldn’t see Kat. Eventually, Kat reached out and gently brushed her arm as Eleven strode past her. She stopped dead in her tracks.

“Don’t worry, it’s just me,” Kat assured her.

“Ten! What are you doing here? Is something wrong? Is Max okay?” Eleven asked.

“Please, please call me Kat. Max is fine, everything’s fine. I just wanted to tell you that we have a plan,” she said as she then touched Eleven’s temple. She sent her the memory of talking to Max about her idea to run into a happy memory and the rest of the group’s feedback. “Do you think that could work?”

“Yes. I– I think so,” she nodded. “And you can call me, El.”

“Okay. I don’t want to stay too long. But when we finalize the details, I’ll reach out again, okay, El?” Kat said.

“Right, it is not safe,” El agreed. “I am trying to get to Hawkins as soon as I can.” The door opened and Brenner walked in. Just the sight of that man made her blood boil. El waved Kat away with her hand and with that, faded out of sight. Kat ripped off her bandana.

“What? What happened?” Lucas asked eagerly.

“Fucking Brenner happened. I got the message to her though. I told her I’d be in touch later and then that asshole walked through the door and she shut me out. She did tell me she’s trying to get back here though. Knowing that Brenner is still involved… I don’t know. He’ll probably find a way to fuck it up like he always does,” Kat said as she angrily crossed her arms and started tapping her foot.

“Okay, but she got the message, so that’s good… right?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah. She’s on board.”

In the meantime, when the rest of the group entered the store, it of course had to be during one its busiest times. “So much for avoiding angry hicks,” Robin commented.

“Let’s be… fast,” Nancy said.

“Agreed,” Erica said as they all split up. She went to grab a cart and started throwing anything Eddie might think was cool in it. A belt made of bullets caught her eye and she tossed it in without a second thought. 

Max saw knives and started to grab a few of those while Steve made a beeline to the clothing section. He grabbed a camo T shirt and a pair of army pants. He changed into them, tucking his old clothing under his arm on the way out of the dressing room. He threw it in Erica’s cart as he passed her. When he finally found Robin, he grabbed a leather army jacket and put that on too.

“How many of these do you think we need?” Robin asked as she put a couple containers of lighter fluid into her cart.

“Five or six,” Steve said as he helped her put more in the cart.

That was when her eyes landed on Vickie across the store and Robin placed her heart in her hands.

“What are you gonna do Robin? Just stand there and gawk at her?” Steve said as his eyes followed to where her gaze had landed.

“Shut up,” she responded quickly. When she made a step forward, some blonde jock ran up behind Vickie and scared her. She watched them as they flirted. And then as they kissed, she felt heart shatter into a million pieces. As the boy pecked kisses down the girl’s neck, she looked over with a smile that faded once she met eyes with Robin. She could only stand there, her mouth parted slightly in shock. Steve tried to think as quickly as he could, to console Robin in some way, but all he could do was watch as his best friend’s heart fell to the floor piece by piece. Robin blinked back tears, pulling in a shuddering breath. She turned and bumped into Steve as she ran away.

“Robin. Robin!” Steve called after her as she made a swift exit. He grabbed the cart and ran after her.

“No, Steve, no. Don’t– I can’t–” she started when he caught up with her. Steve opened his mouth to say something that gave her a semblance of comfort, but her watery eyes cut him off. “Please, Steve. Not right now,” she whispered.

He  nodded. “Right. Okay. Let’s just… How about we go pay for this stuff and get out of here? Grab whatever you see that would be good to kill that guy on the way, yeah?” He offered with a hopeful smile. She just shot him a piercing side-eyed look that shut him up immediately. He put up his hands in surrender. “Sorry, sorry, shutting up now. Oh shit. We gotta get the hell out of here,” he murmured as he gently turned Robin to face where he was looking. Everywhere he looked, he saw nothing but Hawkins High letterman jackets.

“Shit, shit, shit! Let’s go. Yup. Definitely time to go,” Robin said hurrying as she saw Nancy talking to none other than Jason Carver himself.

Nancy cocked a barreled shotgun. “How much is this?” she asked.

“$120.99, but I’ll throw in twenty rounds of buckshots for ya,” the salesman said.

Nancy smiled and nodded, but the voice next to her made her freeze. “Hey, can I see this real pretty .357, please?”

“Sure thing,” responded the other clerk. Slowly, Nancy turned her head to find Jason next to her. She could imagine what he was purchasing that gun for. She gulped and wished she could disappear like Kat. She tried to look like she was still checking out the gun in her hands when suddenly, she heard her name. She closed her eyes and took a quick deep breath, preparing herself to act as normal as possible.

“Wouldn’t expect to find you here,” he drawled as he shook his gun in her direction.

“Yeah, well, it’s just… scary times,” she admitted. “I’m… sorry about Chrissy.”

Jason nodded and she watched as his features changed to that of a person hellbent on total revenge. “Want my advice?” he asked her. “Shotguns are not good for much of anything past killing small birds. I mean, they got power, sure, but not much range,” he said as he walked down the counter until he stood less than an arm's length away in front of her. “And that’s just gonna force you into close-range combat, then someone can just grab the barrel like this…” Suddenly he took the end of the gun into his hand with as tight of a grip as he could. “...and redirect it. Well, you look nervous,” he commented, tapping his thumb on the barrel.

“Like I said, scary times,” Nancy answered.

“Now, your brother, he, uh… is he here with you, by chance?”

“Mike?”

“Mike,” Jason nodded.

“No,” she said firmly.

“I only ask because he’s… he’s in Hellfire, isn’t he?” he asked, shaking her gun slightly as he spoke.

“I don’t know what you're talking about,” she answered innocently.

“What about his friends?” he asked, taking one step closer. “They here with you?”

“Would you let go?” Nancy asked. For a moment, they only stared at each other. When Jason didn’t answer, “Let. Go.” she demanded forcefully.

He did as she said. “You be careful out there, Wheeler,” he advised as he took a step back.

“Yeah, you too,” she said as she turned around to face the clerk and fish out a credit card, which she slammed on the counter. Once the gun was paid for, she found Max first.

“You got everything?” she whispered to Max without looking at her, in case Jason was still watching her. 

“Uh, yeah?” Max answered, confused as to why Nancy was acting so weird.

“Good. Take my card, find the others. We need to get out of here. Now,” she said sternly.

Back on the mini RV, “What the hell is taking them so long?” Dustin asked, staring at his watch while Eddie tapped his rings together. Kat and Lucas just looked at each other nervously.

As if on cue, the door flung open, causing everyone to jump. “What happened?” Lucas asked immediately. 

“We gotta go,” Steve said, throwing Eddie his vest.

“Your old friends are here,” Erica shared as they rushed to their seats.

“What? Are you kidding me? Fucking Jason?!” Kat said angrily as she jumped in Eddie’s lap as he was shrinking down out of sight from the windows. 

“Let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s go!” Dustin yelled.

“I’m going! I’m going! Sit down!” Steve yelled back as the engine revved and threw the RV into drive.

Kat quickly pecked Eddie and rolled off him. She army-crawled to the back, hiding herself in case she was spotted as she peeked out of the rear window. She did so just in time to see that awful black jeep and Jason as he stepped out from behind it to watch them speed away. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The hopeful saviors of Hawkins had decided to drive to a field, one which went on for as far as the eye could see. It was off the main road, down another side road, somewhere they weren’t likely to be seen. Somewhere a random passerby wouldn’t become suspicious of a group of teenagers fashioning weapons for who knows what. No one would have guessed they were sharpening their swords for a war between worlds.

Everyone paired off, each group donned with specific tasks. Max had stayed with Nancy. She held down her shotgun as Nancy used a handsaw to rid it of its barrel.

“Is this legal?” Max wondered.

“Actually, I think it’s a felony.”

“Right,” Max said with a smug raise of her eyebrows.

“But it guarantees one thing,” Nancy said as she sawed away.

“What’s that?”

“I won’t miss,” she stated as she used the handle of the saw to hammer off the barrel. Max had a twinkle of awe in her eye. If she made it through all of this, which she doubted, but if she did… She hoped she would become even half as much of a badass as Nancy Wheeler was.

A ways down the hill, Kat, Eddie, and Dustin were working on prepping shields made out of old aluminum garbage can lids, which they grabbed… or, well, stole on the way. Using milk crates as workbenches, they hammered nails into them. 

“How’s she feeling?” Dustin asked when Eddie had finished his and began practicing his defense.

“Light. But durable. Deadly. But reliable,” he concluded. Dustin chuckled at his theatrics, which were only just beginning. He propped one foot up on the vacant milk crate. “Hear me now,” he said with a deeper, gravely voice, “there will be no more retreating!” he cried before switching back to his regular voice. “From Eddie the Banished. And... Kat the Magnificent,” he added with a wink at his girlfriend. She just playfully rolled her eyes.

“Hey, you’re really ready for bat-tle!” Dustin chortled. “You get it? ‘Bat-tle,’” he repeated when Eddie just stared at him blankly. “B-A-T. No?” he defeatedly groaned. “I thought I had a good one…”

Eddie put down his DIY shield and with a “Rargh!” charged at Dustin and began to wrestle him.

“What are you doing!” Dustin snapped as he wriggled himself away. “You son of a bitch!” he called out as he then charged Eddie who wrapped his arms around Dustin and tried to reach for his underwear. “No wedgies! No wedgies!” Dustin cried when he realized what was happening. 

Eddie laughed as he escaped Dustin’s hold. He threw his hand around the back of Dustin’s neck to hold the closest person he had to a younger sibling in his place. “Never change, Dustin Henderson. Promise me?” The look Eddie had in his eye… it was like he was trying to really make the most out of every single moment he had with his friends.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Dustin said, slightly taken off guard by the sudden brotherly affection.

“Good,” Eddie nodded. When Dustin didn’t say anything, he repeated, “Good,” with an expectant expression.

“Good,” Dustin laughed.

Kat was perched on her milk crate, enjoying the whole scene. But she too, noticed that look in her boyfriend’s eye. Flashes from Vecna’s visions of the future blinded her. Dustin, sobbing. Eddie, looking up at the sky… his eyes devoid of any emotion. Her breath hitched. She never told her friends what she saw about each and every one of them. “Eddie, don’t–”

“Don’t what? Don’t do…” Eddie interrupted as he made a run for her. She quickly got up, a laugh escaping from her, as she tried to run away. Eddie’s long strides were no match for her as he quickly got in front of her, stopping her momentum. “Don’t do this?” he shouted as he gripped her waist and lifted her into the air, spinning her around. 

“Put me down!” she giggled. He did as he was told, but he didn’t let go of her.

“And you, Katrina Ramsey,” he murmured softly to her, “are the best goddamn thing to have ever happened to me.” He slid his hands up to cup her face and she found purchase on his forearms, sliding her hands up them to put hers over his. “Don’t you ever change, either. Don’t ever stop being the caring, resilient, and most badass person to have ever graced this earth. Got it?” he said. She could only make a face of pure adoration. When he was met only with her searching his silken chocolate eyes for some sign that Vecna’s vision was a farce, he leaned his forehead on hers. “Got it?” he repeated even quieter. She nodded, “I don’t ever plan on it. So long as you’re by my side. Anything happens to you, then all bets are off,” she said. He breathed out a laugh and then pulled her face to his. When she moved her hands to hold the side of his neck in one hand, and a fistful of his hair in another, she deepened the kiss.

“Ew, gross! Get a room!” Dustin called out to them with his hands cupped around his mouth to really project his voice.

Eddie chuckled and smiled against Kat, who yipped as he suddenly dipped her and kissed her again. “I love you,” he said, staring into her soul.

“I love you, too,” she said, still staring up at him in the dip.

“First and last and always?” he asked, quoting the album title of one of Kat’s favorite records. The one in which she was blasting as she drove away from the Hideout the first time she ever went to a Corroded Coffin show.

“Til the end of time,” she said with an affectionate smile.

With that, Eddie gave her one last peck and set her upright. “Hey, Sinclairs,” he called out to the siblings that sat in lawn chairs a little ways up the hill from them. “How are those, uh… those spears coming along?” 

Lucas shot them a thumbs up with a beaming smile. Erica scoffed at him. “Flip that damn thumb around,” she said.

“What?” Lucas asked, confused.

She took his makeshift spear, made out of the pole of a shovel and a hunting knife, and began to fix it. “It’s too loose, Lucas,” she said. “This isn’t a basketball game where they blow the whistle when your shoes fall off.”

“Okay, okay, for the record my shoes have never fallen off,” he defended.

“Okay, for the record, it’s kinda hard for your shoes to fall off when you’re riding the bench,” she countered. 

“Yet for some reason, you show up to every game,” he said.

“Mmm, except the one that mattered,” she confessed. “Plus, Mom and Dad forced me.”

“Bull. Mom and Dad can’t force you to do shit.”

“Well, even though you’re a bench riding-loser, you’re still my brother. Just the facts,” she said as she glanced up at him quickly while still looping the twine around the spear. It was at that moment, Lucas knew, that despite all their incessant bickering and Erica’s major attitude, she had and will always care about her bigger brother. No matter what kind of defenses she put up. As Lucas pondered this he looked out back to where the Winnebago was parked and Robin and Steve were concocting the molotov cocktails.

“It just doesn't make sense,” Steve said suddenly.

“What doesn’t make sense?” Robin asked as she poured lighter fluid into a funnel.

“That was Dan Shelter, he graduated, like, two years ago.”

“So?”

“So, he’s in college. Which means he was visiting on spring break. Fast Times was returned, I don’t know, like, a week ago? Right? Unless she’s got some horndog brother we don’t know about,” Steve said, trying to make sense of Vickie being with a guy. “Which is possible. Or she’s just really into Judge Reinhold?”

“Steve!” Robin said, stopping Steve's stream of theories.

“What?”

“I don’t care! And I don’t understand why you do either with everything that’s going on. Honestly, this feels like the perfect time for that little pull of the rug, because… in the face of the world ending, the stakes of my love life feel spectacularly low.”

“Yeah,” Steve frowned. “I mean, I get you there, but… I still have hope,” he said as he handed her a finished Molotov.

As she took it and put it with the other finished one she said, “Not everything had a happy ending.”

“Yeah, yeah. Believe me. I know,” he said as he looked out to the field to see Nancy holding her shotgun and Max watching her. 

“I’m not talking about failed romance,” she said as she poured the flammable liquid into another bottle. “I just… I have this terrible, gnawing feeling that… it might not work out for us this time,” she confessed.

“You think we shouldn’t be doing this? Even with Kat on our side?”

“I think we’re mad fools, the lot of us, but…” she sighed as she scanned the field, looking at her friends in front of her. Nancy was still looking down the much shorter barrel of her gun, Max probably listening to Nancy teaching her her methods. Dustin and Eddie were practicing with their shields as Dustin ducked and Eddie leapfrogged over him as Kat narrated the whole event. Lucas and Erica were testing out their spears, twirling them around to make sure they were steady. “But if we don’t stop him, who will? We have to try, right?”

“Yeah,” Steve nodded as he titled the unfinished deadly cocktail toward Robin. “To killing Vecna,” he toasted.

Robin turned and grabbed a ready-to-go Molotov, “Slash Henry.”

“Slash One,” he halfheartedly smiled as their bottles clinked. 

previous chapter | next chapter

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Iron Man: Part Seven

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader (implicitly)

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: canon violence and angst

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

It takes another ten days for Tony to build the rest of the suit. He's been spending all his time in his lab working nonstop with you helping him. Granted, he's doing most of the work but you're here as moral support as well. Tony had to build the suit in stages instead of as one big project so he can assemble it and dismember it as he pleases.

For someone who has never done this before, he's doing white well for himself. Tony connected the two arms, both palm repulsors, and both boots together to work simultaneously without problems, and he's ready for another test.

"Day Eleven, test thirty-seven, configuration 2.0. For lack of a better option, Dum-E is still on fire safety. If you douse me again and I'm not on fire, I'm donating you to a city college." You chuckle in amusement. "Alright, I'm gonna start off with a one percent thrust capacity. Three, two one."

Tony fires up the suit and hovers a foot over the ground, making sure to keep steady in one place.

"It seems to be working," you say.

Tony sways from left to right as he tries to get used to moving about, and Dum-E follows him with the fire extinguisher hose just in case he erupts into flames mid-flight. Tony gently sets himself back on the ground with a smile on his face.

"Okay, don't follow me around with it because I feel like I'm gonna catch on fire spontaneously. Just stand down! If something happens, then come in. Again, Jarvis. Bring it up to two and a half percent." Jarvis ups the thruster capabilities. "Three, two, one."

Instead of one foot above the ground, he goes at least ten feet. He has a harder time trying to stay in one place, so he's moving all across the room trying to gain control. He flies over to his precious cars, and he laughs nervously.

"Okay, this is where I don't want to be! Not the car, not the car!"

"Turn right!"

"If I could turn right, don't you think I would have turned right?" he snaps out of frustration. He moves away from the cars and over to his workstation, and the power coming from his boots is enough to make papers go flying everywhere. "It could be worse! We're fine!" Tony flies over to the spot where he first started and finally gains control over where he wants to be. He lowers himself to the ground and loses balance but quickly regains it. Dum-E raises the fire extinguisher hose at Tony, but Tony is way ahead of him. "No! No!"

"You did amazing!" you gasp and bounce over to him.

"Yeah, I can fly."

"You're just like me now," you laugh.

"It's time for the real thing."

"Are you sure?"

"Never been more sure in my entire life. Help me, please."

"Jarvis, you heard the man. Get the rest of the suit ready."

"Yes, ma'am," the computer system says.

Many machines begin putting the suit together over Tony's body so there is nothing left of him that isn't sealed inside. The last thing to go is the mask, and you grab it and hand it to him. You grab one of the Bluetooth headphones and slide it into your ear so you can hear and speak to Jarvis without having to be in the suit with Tony. You won't be able to see what he sees, but all you need is to be able to hear.

"Engage Heads Up Display," Tony says.

"Check."

"Import all preferences from the home interface."

"Will do, sir. I have indeed been uploaded. We're online and ready."

"Can you start the virtual walk-around?"

"Importing preferences and calibrating a virtual environment."

"Do a check on control surfaces."

"As you wish."

Tony's suit starts to flex and move so Jarvis can make sure everything is in working order.

"Test complete. Preparing to power down and begin diagnostics."

"Tell you what. Do a weather and ATC check. Start listening in on ground control."

"Sir, there are still terabytes of calculations needed before an actual flight is—"

"Jarvis! Sometimes you got to run before you can walk," Tony grins.

"You're taking her out on a test run?" you ask.

"You want to come with me?"

"Jarvis, I'll make sure he's fine," you nod with a smile.

"Ready? In three, two, one."

Tony flies into the air and shoots toward the long tunnel that leads out of the garage. You quickly fly after him and keep up with his speed to make sure nothing goes wrong. Tony cheers from within the suit at the feeling this rush is giving him. There is a festival going on in town that has lots of kid rides and a Ferris Wheel, and you two fly by it to observe them at the height you're at.

"Are you doing okay?" you ask and fly beside him.

"This handles like a dream! Let's see what this thing can do. What's SR-71's record?" Tony asked Jarvis.

"The altitude record for fixed-wing flight is eight-five thousand feet, sir."

"Records are made to be broken! Come on!"

Tony changes directions and shoots straight into the sky. He wants to see how high he can go without shutting down. If anything were to go wrong, you'd be able to catch him and keep him safe, but you still worry about him. You'll be able to catch him if he shuts down, but you can't exactly heal his injuries if he gets hurt.

"Tony, please be careful," you warn.

The higher Tony flies, the more ice builds up on the surface of the suit.

"Sir, there is a potentially fatal buildup of ice occurring," Jarvis stutters.

"Keep going! Higher!" Tony urges.

"Tony! There is a lot of ice!" you warn.

The higher he goes, the more the controls flicker on and off. It gets to the point where Tony's entire suit shortens out so he can no longer talk to you and Jarvis. Tony hovers in the air for half a second before free-falling back down to Earth's surface.

"Tony!" you gasp. The ice isn't going to come off on its own, so you use your hydrokinesis to melt the ice so it's no longer an issue for him. You fly in front of Tony and grab his arms to keep him steady. His eyes are the only things you see, and he looks worried. "Don't worry, Tony, I got you."

The closer he gets to the ground without coming back online, the more worried you get. You're about to use your aerokinesis to fly him to safety when his entire suit comes back online. His laughter fills the air as he's able to take control back. Right before he hits the ground, he zooms past the cars who swerve to avoid hitting him.

"You're insane!" you shout.

"Tell me something I don't know." You two make your way back to his house, and he hovers a foot above the rooftop. "Kill power."

Jarvis immediately cuts all power to the suit, and Tony expects to land gracefully onto his roof. Instead, he crashed through the ground into the room where his piano is and down to the basement where his cars and lab are.

"Tony!" you gasp and fly down using the same hole he created. He's landed on one of his precious cars, and Dum-E thinks he needs to jump in. He starts spraying Tony with the fire extinguisher. "Are you okay?"

"Ouch," he groans.

"There are two things you need to work on. Ice build-up and landing more gracefully."

"Help me up."

It takes Tony twice as long to get the suit off him than it did to put it on him. He's got some work cut out for him to make this a lot easier in the future. Tony has an ice pack on his head from when he crashed into his car that will easily heal if he takes some time to rest. You walk past one of his tables and notice the brown package that Pepper brought in more than a week ago. Tony hasn't had time to look at it mainly because he's been so busy working.

"This is for you," you say when you see a note 'From Pepper' on the top. "What do you think it is?"

Instead of answering you, he opens the package. Inside is a glass container with the old arc reactor that you replaced. It sits on a pedestal surrounded by the words "PROOF THAT TONY STARK HAS A HEART" all around it. You can't help but notice the small smile on his face. She has a crush on him and based on this reaction, he feels the same. They're good for each other. Who else would do this for him if they didn't have feelings for him?

"Man, she must really like you," you comment.

"Yeah," he whispers.

He sets the container down and goes about his business. You bite your lower lip to stop yourself from smiling too much and join his side at his computer. There are a total of six computers surrounding Tony with two in the front and flour behind him. You take the remote and turn the TV on to see what's happening in the news right now.

"Notes. The main transducer feels sluggish at plus forty altitudes. Hull pressurization is problematic. I'm thinking icing is the probable factor," Tony says to Jarvis.

"A very astute observation, sir. Perhaps, if you intend to visit other planets, we should improve the exosystem."

"Connect to the system and have it reconfigure the shell metals. Use the gold titanium alloy from the Seraphim tactical satellite. That should ensure fuselage integrity while maintaining the power-to-weight ratio. Got it?"

"Yes. Shall I render using the proposed specifications?"

"Thrill me," he mutters.

There is a benefit for the Firefighter Family's Fund at Disney's Concert Hall, and that's the station you stopped at.

"Tonight's red-hot red carpet is right here at the Disney Concert Hall where Tony Stark's third annual benefit for the Firefighter's Family Fund has become the place to be for L.A.'s high society," the female announcer says.

"Jarvis, did we get an invite for that?" you wonder.

"I have no record of an invitation, ma'am."

"He and Y/N haven't been seen in public since their bizarre and highly controversial press conference. Some claim Tony and Y/N are suffering from posttraumatic stress and have been bedridden for weeks. Whatever the case may be, no one expects an appearance from them tonight."

"The render is complete," Jarvis announces and shows the finished product.

"A little ostentatious, don't you think?"

"What was I thinking? You're usually so discreet," Jarvis says sarcastically.

"You know what would look good? A little red in there. I bet Pepper likes the color red."

"You heard the lady, Jarvis," Tony chuckles.

"Yes, that should help you keep a low profile." Jarvis paints the suit on the computer. "The render is complete."

"Hey, I like it. Fabricate it. Paint it."

"Commencing automated assembly. Estimated completion time is five hours."

"Would you like to go to a party?" Tony asks you.

"I thought you'd never ask."

"Don't wait up for me, honey," Tony says to Jarvis.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[kaittalkstoomuch]

CHAPTER ELEVEN IS HERE! Don’t panic!

TW: mentions of abandonment, we kind of dive deep into it. Mentions of death.

Chapter Eleven: Sweet Child O’ Mine

“Dad…. Daddy please, you can’t leave.” I’d cry out for my father, who was leaving in the dead of the night. Tears form as I plead for him. It was as if he couldn’t hear me. “Daddy please.” I cry out more. I feel the world shake and crumble as he leaves and hear a faint “Roxie, sweetheart.” Suddenly, the images of my dim past fade into a sun lit present as Eddie snaps me out of it. “Rox.” I feel Eddie’s hand rub my arm softly. I blink a couple times before coming to and turning to my lover.

“You okay, sweetheart?” His brown orbs look into mine intensely. He immediately understands what had happened. “It was your pops again, wasn’t it.” I rest my head onto his chest as we lay on the bed. “Yeah… they never go away. Ever. It’s always the same thing. I’m ten years old and it’s the middle of the night. You know, a time where children should be asleep. It’s always right when he lives. It’s something a child should never have to witness. He never hears me. Acknowledges my cries. I just… I don’t know. Recently I’ve been having more and more flashbacks. I don’t know why.”

Eddie holds me tightly. “I’m so sorry baby. I’m right here.” I hold him tightly and take a deep breath against his chest. “I love you so much, Eds. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you. I can’t lose you.” Eddie holds my hand between our chests as we continue to lay down. “You will never ever lose me, sweetheart.” “What if somehow the cops find you.” Eddie combs his ring clad fingers through my auburn tussles. Tears nearly spill out of my eyes. “Baby, they won’t find me. They don’t even know where we are right now.” “But Eddie, what if somehow they do.” I start feeling panic. Eddie holds my face. “I’m not going anywhere sweetheart. I’m staying right here. With you.”

I start taking deep breaths. “You promise?” I ask quietly like a little kid. “Yes, I promise my love. I’m not going anywhere.” I snuggle up to him, hiding my face in the nook of his neck. “I promise my love.” “I love you, Eddie.” “I love you too, sweetheart.” He kisses my head and I start calming down more. “Roxanne.” A hush whisper fills my ears and I look around puzzled. “You okay?” Eddie asks. “Yeah, I am. Did you hear that?” I ask. “No, are you sure you’re okay?” “Yeah, I think so.”

Eddie takes note of my uncertainty. “Hey, tell me about Dart. What was that like?” I glow at the question. “Well, it was Halloween a couple of years back, or, somewhere around there. I was taking a shower and Dustin and I were the only ones home. I heard some rattling coming from the trash can and being the curious cat I am, I stopped my shower briefly and looked out of the curtain. Then, I saw this scaly, moist, lizard looking creature digging through the trash. It was so outworldly. I thought maybe Dustin would know something, being into things like that.”

I laugh at the memory. “So, I quickly finished my shower, dried off, put on my robe, then got an extra towel. I grabbed the creature and stormed into Dustin’s room. I’m not kidding, I had this thing wrapped like a baby. Dustin was so scared to tell me. But, he also knows I can keep a secret. So, that’s when I heard of the Upside Down, who Eleven is, her powers, how fucking horrible Hawkins Lab actually is… and finally, Barb’s death.” “I had no idea you and her were friends.”

I smile thinking of the little group. “Yeah, before Robin and I became best friends, Nancy and Barb were my best friends. From pre-k to sophomore year, when Harrington got into the picture.” Eddie chuckles. “You hated Harrington?” “Oh yeah. In Ms. Clickity Clack’s class, Robin and I would have to endure his stupidity. Oh god, Eds. It was awful. I would also fight with Nancy because I always thought she could find someone better.” “What do you think now?” He asks as I smile.

“I think…. His dating life is extremely pathetic and he quite possibly lost the love of his life. But, what do I know? We’re still in high school… though I do have mine.” Eddie seems shocked by my observation. “I’m the love of your life?” He teases me as I laugh. “YES! Are you kidding me?” We both laugh. “Seriously though, with Harrington… really? After everything? What changed?” “Honestly, I got to know the real Harrington. And it all started with Dustin. They have a great relationship. You do too, yes, but the kid IDOLIZES the fuck out of the guy.” I say with a chuckle. “Roxanne…” I hear the voice again. Eddie seemingly understands.

“Hey.” I rub his side as his hand rests on mine. “What’s going on in that pretty little mind of yours?” I look into those chocolate orbs. They look less somber than they have been within the last 24 hours, but still filled with worry. I rub his cheek with my thumb. “C’mon, Eds. Talk to me.” I hold his hands in my lap as I position myself sitting across from him. “It’s just that goddamn dream… something about it… it felt so real.” He speaks ever so softly. “What about it made it feel real?”

“You… were stuck. Much like Chrissy. We were here, in our sanctuary. The place that’s supposed to make us feel safe. You were absolutely beaming over the future. I mean, so was I, but you glowed. When you were in that trance, I didn't know what to do. I was doing everything in my power to save you. I couldn’t lose you, darling. When you started levitating, that’s when you woke me up, and thank god. I don’t know how I could live without you.” Tears form in his eyes and I wipe them with my thumb. I hold his hands tighter. “Whatever this is, we’re going to get it. We’re going to kill that son of a bitch.”

I get up from the bed and tell him the ideas flowing in my head. “I could act as a red herring. A decoy, a distraction while you guys find clues.” Eddie hates the idea, evidently from violently shaking his head. “Rox, absolutely not.” “No, no Eds, hear me out. If push comes to shove, I can literally drive all over Hawkins in your van. Distract people. I can even hang out with the guys. Obviously, they’re going to be on your side. I’ll even attend Chrissy’s funeral. Y’know, pay my respects.” Eddie now gets up and meets me. “Rox, you can’t. As much as I love you, and how protective you are, don’t risk your life for me.”

I groan at his response. “Eddie, babe. I know you’re worried about Jason and his dipshit goons coming after me. I can handle them, especially that pissant Jason.” “Okay, but what about Andy? He’s so misogynistic, he could hurt you and not think twice.” “Oh, that’ll just fuel me to brutally kick his ass. Like seriously, he won’t even know what’s coming.” Eddie’s still reluctant. “I’m also worried Jason would try and get answers out of you.”

I hold Eddie by his waist and rest my head on his chest. “I dealt with assholes like him practically my whole life. I think I can take Carver.” He seems to get it, then sighs. “I know sweetheart. I’m just worried, that’s all. I don’t want you to get hurt.” “I know baby, I just want to protect you.” “And I want to protect you, sweetheart.” We share a kiss. Just then, someone knocks on the door. “What the hell?”

“Come in!” I say looking at the door quickly then back at Eds. “It’s probably the gang, they probably have some type of answers.” I reassure him as he nods. Steve and Robin walk in first, nervously looking at me specifically. Then Dustin and Max, with the same look. Eddie mutters “what the fuck” while the familiar unsettling voice rings in my ears. “Roxanne.” Then, I make eye contact with a crucial part of my past. Nancy fucking Wheeler.

[askthechronoverse]

Chapter Eleven: A Loose End or a Strand

Last Chapter •||• Next Chapter

"NO. STOP."

The fox and royal cat turned to the sound of the desperate voice. Coming down the stairs at a suspicious speed was Richard, followed by a half tired Rex.

"Rick! Where have you two been? I've been looking for you both!" Unikitty stepped forward, but Richard rushed past her and snatched the memory out of Doctor Fox's hand. He stood still for a moment, expressionless, then threw the memory back in the jar. The whole time this occurred, Doctor Fox tried to grab the memory back. Richard held it too tightly in his psychic grip for her to take it.

"Did you see the memory, princess?" The normally monotone voice of her advisor sounded dead and broken. The facade of a calm brick was fully dissolved now, giving way to someone who could barely keep himself together. "Answer me."

"Yes." Unikitty tried to put a paw on one of the studs on top of his head, but he floated back towards Rex.

"Well, RJ‽ What now‽" The brick's breath was heavy with fear. "It's too late!"

"Rick… please tell me what's going on." The cat was also fearful, scared even further by the frantic actions of her advisor. He had already moved to the Memory Machine and started to type something into the touchscreen.

Passcode accepted…

Launching Project Lotus…

Options:

Launch Full Redaction Protocol

Start Lotus Routine

Launch Debrief Sequence

The brick was still, suspended in the air for what felt like a lifetime. A few stray teardrops fell to the floor. An invisible hand pressed “Launch Full Redaction Protocol”. A confirmation screen came up.

"I have to be the only one." He spoke with uncertainty, voice creaking like the floorboards of a long abandoned home. "This is my burden to carry." Before he could confirm the launch of the protocol, a voice stopped him.

"No. You don't. You were gonna let me in, remember?" Rex walked over to the brick and put a hand on the left hand stud. "Let her in, too." The brick sighed, his breath heavy and pained.

"I have seen both of your graves. I have seen every person I have gotten close to fall into holes in the ground. The sky grows dark… It's Armommageddeon all over again." Unikitty’s voice was cracking under the stress. "I've never seen anything like that before that terrible time and I never want to see that again!"

"From what I know of the wedding incident, I regret to inform you that your statement is incorrect." Richard closed his eyes, which showed an age that seemed far older than he let on within the lines of his face.

"How?" Unikitty's voice quivered. Deep down in the part of her brain where she hid negative thoughts, something was stirring, a sleeping dragon that had been awakened.

"Princess… I want to think back. Go before Armommageddeon. Before your friend here staggered onto the scene with some mystery piece glued to his back, begging for praise for being ‘special’. What do you remember?" He furrowed his eyebrows. Why was he doing this?

"The first thing I remember is… waking up in a large white room. There were nurses surrounding me, excited I woke up. They asked if I remembered who I was and told me I was their princess. The princess of Cloud Cuckoo Land." Unikitty frowned sharply. She strained to think back any further, a lightbulb cracking above her horn. Richard shook, but there was relief in his eyes. "I… can't remember anything further back."

"Maybe this is for the best then. Put all this out of your mi-"

"Actually, I… I remember one other thing. I remember… just three words. 'Be the light.' It's why… Why I am the way I am today." Her pupils shrank, the last thing she saw in the lab being the tired face of her advisor holding an expression of shocked flattery.

"No! You need to leave me! The kingdom can only exist if you are still around! Get to the castle! The kingdom can't lose you, Unikitty! I can't lose you!" The ground fell away completely and Richard seemed to lose his ability to float over the hole. A look fell on the brick's face: one of an uneasy acceptance. "Please… be the light in the darkness you have always been, my princess. Don't let the loss of the Unikingdom darken your spirit. That's my last piece of advice for you." He began to fall, tears streaming from his large eyes that slowly closed as his form was overtaken by shadows. Unikitty rushed to grab him, but he fell too fast to be grabbed.

"Richard! I can't reach you! Please reach out to me!" By the time she shouted this, he had been swallowed by the darkness. She backed up toward the castle and started to cry. They were gone: all her friends, her kingdom, her brother… and the brick who had been like a father to her for years. The fear was turning her a ghostly white. She looked around her and saw that the darkness had claimed the rest of the kingdom. She was alone.

The cat was no longer in the lab, but in her bedroom. She was in her bed with an ice pack on her head. Richard floated by her side and Rex sat at the foot of the bed.

"Be the light. Those were your last words to me, weren't they." She asked softly.

"It was all a dre-" Richard paused as he noticed Rex glaring at him. "Yes. I thought I was never going to see you again, princess."

"So the Unikingdom I keep seeing?"

"It's… it's been gone for a long time. Cloud Cuckoo Land was not your first time running a kingdom. You were young when you took the throne of the… oh, let's call it the Old Unikingdom. I was somehow able to prove myself worthy of being your advisor to your parents around the time you were still an infant. I wasn't actually worthy of it then. I am even less worthy of it now, if I'm being honest with myself. I worked with you, taught you what you needed to do to become a good ruler. Then, after you had brought peace to the kingdom… the Old Unikingdom fell. I thought you were dead, princess. I barely held on to hope." He could barely float at this point, choosing to land between Unikitty and Rex.

"You seemed close to losing hope in that vision… memory." Unikitty put her paw on one of his studs. He let her do this this time around.

"Eventually, Doctor Fox's voice fell silent as well. I think our talk made her lose her resolve and panic. Between Hawkodile's rage at the situation and Puppycorn's cries for you and desperate attempts to make everyone happy… I suppose it doesn't matter at this point." The brick sighed heavily. "I can't understand why I'm still here. Why did I survive and get to tell you all of this…"

"Why didn't you want Doctor Fox to see the memory?"

"That's part of my duties for Project Lotus. When the queen told us you didn't remember the Fall, we made a pact to never let you remember. I suppose I failed on that front, since I'm not hiding anything now. However, she rebuilt several devices to help keep the truth from you. The Memory Machine is the main piece to the puzzle. The others sacrificed their memories to keep you happy."

"What about you?" Unikitty's heart broke as her loyal friend began to cry.

"I… wasn't as lucky. I… I knew too much. It would have killed me to take all that away, so I became the only soul in the Unikingdom who knew that we were all starting over. The citizens didn't remember anything to begin with." He sounded exhausted, almost shrinking as he spoke. "Doctor Fox couldn't understand why back then. I just consider it to be good fortune that the citizens that were left from the old days couldn't remember the Fall."

"Why don't I remember anything?"

"That isn't something I can tell you, my princess. You always had an avoidant personality when it came to unpleasantness. You once tried to separate your anger from yourself using some invention of Doctor Fox's design. I assume you made yourself forget somehow. I believe the only reason you remember what you do now is because of a certain man who had attempt to destroy the world in the exact same way the Old Unikingdom fell." He shot a sideways glance over to Rex, who pointed to himself before avoiding Richard's eye contact. Richard floated up slowly, turning away from Unikitty. "Rest for a while. I know you have more questions, but we have a lifetime for me to answer them. I'd rather not see you be stressed any further." He gave Rex a sideways glance and looked to the door. Before the human could get up, Unikitty grabbed his denim vest.

“RJ, stay a sec? I’ve been alone for this whole thing. I just want someone here with me.” The man nodded and sat back down. By this point, Richard had left the room completely. “I was going to ask you about how to handle my visions, but if they aren’t visions… How do you handle the bad memories? The memories of the… really bad time?”

“One day at a time. Ya aren’t gonna make the memories go away. Well, you kinda did, but now that they’re there… ya can’t put the genie back in the bottle. You have one soul who remembers everything you can talk to. I know nothing, but I didn’t make a pact to forget everything either. I can afford to hear ya vent. You have a support system, which is more than I thought I had.” Rex played with a piece of fluff that he found on the bedspread. “Just know the world ain’t ending, alright?”

“I was scared I was going to lose all of you… even you.” Unikitty’s ears went back.

“Really? Guess I made that much of an impact on ya, huh?” Rex laughed softly.

“You became a real friend, RJ. I never thought I’d say that about the guy who caused Armommageddeon, but I’m saying that. You are my friend and I don’t want to lose you.” The cat’s big blue eyes were on the verge of tears.

“Hey now. Let’s not get sappy, okay?” He took the watery eyes as an invitation for a hug and pulled his oldest friend in a soft embrace. “I’m okay. The world isn’t ending and you’re not alone. I’ll be here to remind you of that every single day I still have breath, if you need me to.”

“Please do that. That’s one thing I never want to forget.”

[onelickactivate]

TalkFlow AI Review: A Smart AI Assistant for Just $14.95!

As you must be experiencing, we live in a transitional era where AI products are gradually becoming daily essentials in the routine of  hustlers like you and me. Great innovations & revolutions in the field of AI are no big deal at this point. Talking about revolutions, personal AI assistants like ChatGPT & Canva have taken over like none other.

<<<TalkFlow AI – Transform conversations with smart, automated AI!>>>

But have you ever felt the need of an AI Assistant that can converse like you, speak out the results to your commands exactly like you speak, the emotions, the expressions and everything. Be it the college projects or business tasks, what if an AI exists that can put out a detailed discussion for any of it in just a 60 seconds time?

You must have felt the need of something this smooth when you must have felt stuck and unsatisfied with monotonous task completions and results from your traditional text based expensive AI Assistant.

I was no different from you guys but in my search of the gold that you imagine about, I actually found an operating diamond for my business, a conversational AI-backed by ChatGPT 4.0 & Eleven Labs that actually talks like a real human and has been designed to complete and deliver any complex professional/business task in 60 seconds.

Hello & welcome to my review of the TalkFlow AI, where we will be covering every important detail about the product and also the potential of the Conversational AI Market with a keen approach and also analyse whether TalkFlow AI perfectly meets your requirements or not. 

What is the Size Of the Conversational AI Market?

Before we straight away start discussing TalkFlow AI, it becomes very necessary that I introduce you to the complexities & attractive facts of the market & its potential to which the product belongs to and has been made for.

Let me list down some facts about the market of Conversational AIs that I came across during my research across the web:

Current Value of The Conversation AI Market is approximately $400 Billion, please save that surprised look as this is not all, The Market is all set to reach a $700 Billion Worth mark by the year 2027, isn’t that too big of an industry and market potential.

The current number of users of these Conversational AIs is More than 2.7 Billion Individuals Every Month.

Now it’s the time for a very cinematic fact but its data backed for sure, a total of 100000 millionaires around the globe have made it with the help of AI assistants. 

Products like ChatGPT, ElevenLabs and now TalkFlow AI are proving to be the flag bearers of this AI driven era of internet revolution, get on your seatbelts as this review is going to take you through tricks and techniques on how to grab your share from this revolutionary $700 Billion Market.

What Is TalkFlow AI?

Done with the market discussion, it's now the time to review the product, but before that it is necessary to understand the basics of the product from someone who has used it for 5 months now! Yup, that’s me, your reviewer.

As the founders promise, TalkFlow AI is the world’s first Conversational AI Assistant that Speaks & Responds to your commands with the emotions and expression exactly which you desire to see in the tasks done by it which saves you time and effort and also allows you to finish and move on to newer tasks easily.

<<<TalkFlow AI – Transform conversations with smart, automated AI!>>>

Why Should I Go With TalkFlow AI?

A very relatable question among the primary questions of mine too before going for the product. But what answered my question were the exclusive features and user benefits that the TalkFlow AI has entered the market with, let’s have a look at them:

Human-Like Discussion Over Tasks: The TalkFlow AI app, as the name suggests comes with the primary feature of real human-like discussion over tasks and commands given by you. That is not all, it records the tone and emotion while you give it the commands and tends to converse exactly in the same tone and expression variation like you, making your business projects more real and dynamic.

Get Tasks Done In Any Language: A feature that I personally like over the others. Constantly giving commands to your AI Assistant with a specific language option can lead to lack of communication & expression, but that is certainly not the case with TalkFlow AI where you can give commands and get a meaningful conversation even in your native language saving you time & extra-efforts.

It Remembers Every Conversation: Honestly, the app has an excellent memory of conversations made over various projects and tasks. I’ve personally set up some keywords for specific tasks I’m multitasking with, and within a second of speaking the keyword to it, it instantly restores the detailed conversation we made about the project. I find this one a perfect time saver.

A Free Commercial Reseller License: At this point, the founders have kept a big heart and have given a uniquely big enough space to creative freedom. As soon as you get access to TalkFlow AI, you can start your own Conversational AI Agency and sell the AI Assistants created with TalkFlow AI to your Customers with no fear of copyright claim as you are completely backed by a free commercial license from the founders.

What About The Price & Guarantee?

Selling Price & The Guarantee offered, the two points which the independent hustlers like you and me are often concerned about, but we got really lucky this time, here is how:

$14.95 is the current Selling Price of the Technically Built TalkFlow AI, just a one-time-payment offering you a lifetime access to meaningful conversations over your business projects.

No Monthly Charges.

No Third Party Payment

A low-one-time $14.95 Investment

Hope I found a really affordable deal for you but what about the guarantee as any money invested holds tremendous value both for the investor and the product founder, hence - 

You get a A 30 Days Complete Money Back Guarantee straight from the founder’s desk. In the case of any sort of product dissatisfaction within 30 days, you can ask for and easily get a full refund with no questions asked. Personally speaking, this was something that gave me a trust factor to invest into the product.

Do I get a Bonus?

That is what every user wants right? And why not, who would not love some extra value for their, the same has been kept in mind by the founders of TalkFlow AI.

You get an Unlimited Reseller License if you are among the first 100 Buyers of Today! As soon as you buy the product, you instantly gain access to the ultimate reseller license with which you can limitlessly sell the AI Assistants you create with TalkFlow AI to your customer base  whenever you need that extra capital in just 2 clicks of create & sell.

Current Market Value of The Reseller License is $997 and you are getting this one absolutely free as a bonus but only if you want to make a quick decision.

<<<TalkFlow AI – Transform conversations with smart, automated AI!>>>

How Easily Can I Launch My Own Conversational AI Platform With TalkFlow AI?

Absolutely free and with just one click over the create option, and why only a platform, you can go some extra mile just like I did after learning about the basics of the product. What I did was launch a full-fledged Agency Of Conversation AI product I created with TalkFlow AI, and today the agency is my lifelong guarantee of a passive income.

It must be complex, right? Not at all, I will introduce you to every hurdle & struggle that TalkFlow AI effortlessly saved me from while I created & launched my own Conversational AI Platform, which you might also face in the near future.

Based on my experience, with TalkFlow As your personal AI Assistant:

You don’t need to build everything from scratch, because that is what we have AI for.

No need to worry about building a human-like conversation software as TalkFlow already has many blueprints embedded into its own software to help you with many.

As no development is no required from your side, hence it also eliminates the need to hire expensive software developers who have drained your account enough.

After You Sell a full Fledged Conversational AI to your client, no need to worry about copyright sues and claims as you are powered and backed by a free commercial reseller license which legally allows you to sell these services as an agency for a lifetime.

How Quick Is TalkFlow AI?

Yeah the last question on all of our charts, is the execution process complex or not? Not at all, 3 Simple Steps & a 60 Seconds break is all what the TalkFlow AI can take to get you through the $400 Billion Conversational AI market. Have a look at the simple steps:

Step 1: Purchase & Login to TalkFlow AI 

Step 2: Choose the AI Voice Character and now Give Commands for Your Projects.

Step 3: Get Results and a detailed Conversational Task Completion within 60 seconds and bag profits like your fellow hustlers are already doing.

<<<TalkFlow AI – Transform conversations with smart, automated AI!>>>

Why Should I Start Today?

Primarily because the launch period will end soon, the prices will also rise with rising demand as clearly stated by the founders ( $97 monthly subscription ) and you might also lose the opportunity to grab onto the unlimited reseller license making the purchase of the product almost useless in terms of real value for money.

Second is going to be personal advice, take it if you like it. TalkFlow AI in the past 5 months has been the one-stop-med for all my project headaches that starts action in just 60 seconds.

It is bagging me returns and profits, that is another thing but the ease of it all is what makes me fall in love with it, imagine you are running an AI Agency and bagging profits on autopilot, that can be your investment towards a brighter tomorrow where everyone is on the profit side.

We now reach the end of the review and I have given you enough hints towards making a right decision based upon my personal experiences. Now whether you want to make this $14.95 investment today or not, the decision lies in your hands.

[nebulousfishgills]

Fanfic Asks, friend!

A [HTM], F, H, K, M, S, V, W

Yayyyyy more asks!!

A - How did you come up with the title for His Tenebris Moenibus?

Honestly, titling fics can either be the bane of my existence or the greatest thing I ever do. HTM was the former. This was about a year ago now so I don't entirely remember all the minutiae, all I know was that I wanted something in Latin to make it sound fancy. Then I just went through the process of putting together thematically appropriate combinations of words and phrases until Google Translate spit out something cool sounding:

Within These Dark Walls... in reference to the Creel House, is I think what One Year Ago Fishgills was thinking. Cause, as we know, a lot of shit happens in that house, and usually it's dark inside. Within the dark walls of the Creel House, These Dark Walls.

I wish I could say it was as clever as Diplopia, but no, this was very much Spaghetti Against The Wall To See What Would Stick.

F - Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you've written and explain why it's your favorite

I have no self control, you're getting several cause I can't pick a favorite.

I have two from His Tenebris Moenibus:

"If this is supposed to be hell... why is it so beautiful?" Emily asked quietly. "Normally I wouldn't think a place so desolate and destructive would be, but..."

"A world untouched by mankind." Henry said, somewhat answering her question. "A land with no structure, nothing chaining anything down. It's beautiful because it's free."

This is when Emily and Henry are banished to the Upside Down and they're exploring this new hellscape they're stuck in. Honestly, I just really, really love Emily asking why a supposed hell is beautiful to her. I think it's a similar effect to when people go to desolate places to appreciate the beauty that humanity hasn't touched/changed or simply can't, like the tops of mountains or sunsets.

Really, I think it just shows what this goal of theirs really means to them. To us, we see it as wiping out humanity and its structures in a bid for control out of a probably over-exaggerated distaste for human systems the rest of us understand a certain need for. To them, though, they see human systems as shackles or "straitjackets" that cascaded into the sources of their suffering.

It was social stigmas about young births out of wedlock that got Emily sent away to Valentina's and (as far as we can suspect) Virginia's need for the picture perfect nuclear family that Henry simply couldn't fit into that led to his troubles. They want to erase humanity to erase human suffering, suffering they went through. It's a horrible way of going about it, but when you scrape away the grime and blood it's somewhat of a sweet sentiment. And, to them, the blank slate the Upside-Down seems to show is opportunity, a blueprint. Sure it looks desolate and inhospitable, but that's not how they see it.

Besides, they survived in it for all those years. At the end they want, they'll be the two sole survivors. It just checks out.

Next:

"Emily... please..." Eleven whispered. "You... you were the closest thing I had to a mother in that place. Remember? We drew pictures together. You would sharpen my pencils when they broke because I pressed too hard. I drew a picture of you, me, and Henry. Outside of the lab in the sun under a rainbow... a real rainbow. I wanted you both to take me away from there, away from Papa. When I hid in the closet, I thought we were going to... before you... I thought we were going to escape and be a family. A real family."

"Don't be afraid." They heard Henry say next to Max. "Try and stay very still. It will all be over soon." Eleven continued, gaining back Emily's attention.

"We could have found a house to live in. You would teach me more words, about how life is supposed to work. Teach me to use my powers in a supportive way. Not using fear and punishments like Papa. There would be a garden out front with blue and yellow flowers mixed with roses. We'd run around the yard and play games. We could dance to whatever song came on the radio."

Henry raised a hand, caging Max's face like he had the others.

"I could go to a real school and make real friends. Henry could help me with my homework while you made dinner. Real food. We'd go to the park and go on the swings, each of us trying to go higher than the other two. We'd ride the Ferris Wheel on the fourth of July while the fireworks exploded over our heads. We'd host sleepovers for my friends and eat too much ice cream."

Emily's limbs tingled slightly the closer Henry grew to taking Max's soul.

"I never wanted to destroy the world or remake it. I never wanted to hurt people. I just wanted to escape, escape with you so we could create our own world for ourselves. A family. But after what you and Henry did to the others in the lab, I knew that we could never have that. I wanted to believe that you were both good people who were trapped like I was. And part of me still does, still believes you both can put a stop to this before it's too late." Eleven was fully crying at this point, tears dragging down her cheeks and dripping from her chin. "Please, Emily, listen to me. You were my protectors once... what you're doing is wrong, all of this is wrong. Stop this before it's too late to turn back."

I like this monologue I gave Eleven because I like the idea that she can find the power to resist and fight back within herself. In fact just recently I edited this chapter to remove most of Mike's monologue since one, almost nobody likes it, and two, it fits my theme-ing better if Eleven can fight back with backup support from both Mike and Will (he gets to encourage Eleven now, too) rather than total support.

That, and it's almost the other side of this coin the previous passage I included presents. Creating a perfect world shouldn't mean destroying the previous one and everyone in it, it should mean creating your own world for yourself and those you care about. Emily and Henry are just too damaged and disillusioned to understand the difference.

Eleven's perfect world was getting to grow up in a normal, happy environment with two people she saw as protectors, as opposed to Henry and Emily's perfect world where they're all alone with their abnormalities.

Now we absolutely *have* to take a peek at Diplopia since there's so much to unpack in almost every conversation. I'll be nice and just pick one, though:

"Henry, what's the matter?" Emily asked, her hands holding her upper arms as if stuck between sympathizing and chastising. He looked up at her, his bright blue eyes sunken and contorted in barely restrained anger.

"Don't you see what's going on here? They're trying to draw you in and take you away from me." Henry replied, pointing back in the direction they came from.

"Henry, don't be ridiculous. They're trying to be hospitable. I know it's hard for you to trust anyone, but you're being paranoid. Just because they're vampires doesn't mean they see you as a side dish." Emily said, her arms now fully folding.

"Please, don't tell me you haven't noticed Blondie over there looking at you like you're some fancy meal. His eyes never leave you."

"Just because Caius looks strangely like you doesn't mean you have to get jealous. He's just trying to be nice."

"You saying things like that makes me worry that you've fallen under his sway." Henry jabed his finger out again in an acusatory way. By now Emily was getting angry.

"I'm not spineless, Henry. To be honest, yeah, I've noticed. But you know that's part of what I do. I steal souls through allure. What makes this different than any of the others?"

"Because he has my damn face!" Henry yelled. "You fell for it once, who says you can't do it twice?"

"Henry Creel, do you even hear yourself? You're being a paranoid, jealous freak."

"Maybe you're not being paranoid enough!" Henry pinched the bridge of his nose. "I want to go home as fast as we can. I don't want you being seduced by these... filthy bloodsuckers!"

When Emily didn't reply right away, Henry looked up at her to assess her expression. Her face immediately told him that he had fucked up. His eyes softened before Emily spoke.

"You... you do know that's what I am right?" She asked quietly. "I feed off of blood, too. Do you think I'm disgusting? Is that what you really think of me?"

"What? No, Emily, of course I don't!" Henry was quick to defend.

"Yes, you do. Don't lie to me. I could see it in your eyes. Every time Eddie and I had to feed, you were disgusted. Even when this became a need, you thought it was disgusting. That I was disgusting. Is that it?"

"Emily, no, I could never--"

"But you did!"

To me, this is the point in the story where we see the tone shift I never intended to happen, but did. Before this, it's largely been goofy fun with banter and these characters from two different worlds interracting. Sure there have been asides and innuendos, but nothing to indicate it could go far enough that this could turn into an actual deep rift. If we read His Tenebris Moenibus before this, we feel like Henry and Emily's bond seems incredibly strong, indestructable, nothing could tear them apart. After all the shit they've been through, nothing can come between them, right?

Really, in an ironic twist that can be taken in multiple ways, Henry is his own worst enemy.

We don't entirely know what happened between the end of HTM and Diplopia aside from some vague references. Eddie has to get resurrected somehow and that bond has to form among the three of them, Henry has to return to his human visage for the original joke to land, and between all of this there has to be some type of grating in his and Emily's relationship. I always saw it as Emily always feeling like she's seen as the second best and having to put Henry first in ways she feels like she doesn't get anything back for it. Then oops, here comes Caius, suddenly putting Emily first and giving her his complete attention without any strings attached (yet at least).

We sometimes forget that Emily is an inherently selfish person, so I don't think she was completely happy having to abstain from sustenance in the form of souls to bring Henry back since it was skin he hated that she learned to live with, even if she missed his human self. And of course Henry thinks drinking blood is a little strange, it's only natural he'd be a bit put-off by it.

These irrational thoughts Emily keeps on having are more dived into in her little monologue right after this, but here is I think where we as readers start to understand that something isn't quite right. That this is more than just a goofy crack fic and that it's actually something very serious... even if that wasn't my intention. There's that blend of the previous comedic tone with some of the things they say at the start of this passage, but it quickly evolves into something angstier.

That, and I keep compulsively saying "you're being a paranoid, jealous freak" when I'm alone. Which, that line has its own layers, but for the sake of brevity that I completely devote myself to, let's move on. I want to provide one more passage, this one from Necrosis.

It's not a passage I've published yet, not by a long shot, so it might need to be tweaked when the time comes. I'll avoid and censor spoilers by changing tenses and cutting off at a certain point, so bear in mind I'm not delivering the full context or truth, but I really want to talk about this:

"I don't know." Emily's tone remained even as she continued speaking. "I didn't really have a family growing up. I had disparate fragments of one, I suppose, but never anything like people are supposed to have. My mother abandoned me, I don't know who my real father was... I had a father figure at one point but he... I don't like remembering him, making almost twenty years of my life a living hell on earth, trapped in sterile white walls with the only reprieve being one room painted with rainbows. A sick joke.

"I had one person to rely on for twenty-five years, the first man I'd ever loved. I thought he'd be the only one I would ever love, both of us being damaged the way that we were. But... well you know that story. I had a best friend at one point, and a little girl I saw as a little sister or daughter at one point... Jane, oddly enough."

"But nothing that every really felt... whole?" Sulpicia offered. Emily nodded.

"I know I have siblings, but I don't know anything about them and they don't even know I exist. And I meant what I said when I grew up with someone who... another sister in law I'll never know."

"What was her name?"

"Alice. He never talked about her much. Some memories best left to the past." Emily paused, choosing her next words carefully. "I betrayed them all at one point. Both my parents died by my hands, directly or not. I turned my back on my Papa, I betrayed El- Jane's trust, I managed to hurt Eddie twice, and I... abandoned the first man I ever loved and who ever loved me. I knew leaving him would emotionally cripple him and I don't know if my doing that ended up getting him killed. All the different pieces of what could have been a family and I betrayed all of them.

"The day I walked in here, I was given all the love I had been missing in my life twenty, thirty, forty times over. Caius matched the love I already had in my life and more came with him. Maybe when I agreed to marry him, I wanted his family as much as I wanted him. For so long I said I didn't need one because I had all the family I needed. Picia, the Guard isn't beneath me, they're my friends, my cousins, even my siblings. And I have actual siblings to boot. You're my sister and Marcus is my brother..."

"But?"

"But I think I saw Aro as my brother first. The first one who greeted me when I got here, one of the first people I saw when I woke up, someone who seemed as insane and flawed as I was... and the first person who called me sister. We drive each other up the wall sometimes, sure, but... I'm just not sure what I'm feeling because I don't know what I'm supposed to feel."

If you really critically think about it you might be able to piece together what's been going on, but if that's the case, so be it. This is by no means the end of this conversation, but I think it's a massive show of growth and introspection for Emily. Shit's been happening in Casa de Volturi and she can't just keep ignoring her problems.

That, and I really just wanted Emily to have a deep and personal moment with Sulpicia. Her sister by marriage, the only sister she's ever had. I feel like in twenty something years, Emily's talked about her past, but she hasn't been this vulnerable and detailed about it with anyone aside from Caius.

Me personally, I don't have a sister, but I know that can be a very important relationship and I wanted to display that to some degree. Emily simply can't go through life without letting people in, especially if she's going to be living with these people for thousands of years. She has relationships with the others, but again, other than Caius she's never been open about her past to anybody.

The twins are closer to younger siblings or even children to her and Jane isn't one you would usually exposition dump about your trauma to. Heidi's more like her Gal Pal she complains about current personal problems to rather than being abused in the Rainbow Room as a child. Mele maybe, but again, that's closer to a parent/child relationship and why would Emily burden Mele with past problems she can't properly comprehend.

It's not like Emily could talk to Marcus about this, the poor dude has his own baggage and hardly says more than a few words; Emily mostly ignores him. Aro's seen all of Emily's memories at one point most likely, so he knows all of this, but he's not the kind of guy she would pour her heart out to. If anything she's more guarded around him. Honestly, their dynamic is the closest Emily's gonna get to her relationship with Eddie in her Second Life, not someone you trauma dump to.

But I think it's important that Emily lets herself be vulnerable around more than just the person she's married to. I've written Sulpicia to be more wise and maternal... Chaotic in her own right, of course, look who she's married to. But honestly I really think Emily needed another woman to talk to. Someone who understands her (Sulpicia was an orphan as a human, too!) and who can be another shoulder to lean on. Emily letting all this out is a huge step for her as a person and for her and Sulpicia's relationship.

Of course this is by far the full context and it's not like this was a conversation that happened on a whim, lots of stuff has happened and it got ugly. Again, for spoiler's sake that's a secret for now, but even without all the context I think it's important to talk about this scene, even in part.

...and I'm apologizing for giving four very long answers to one question, the second one, no less.

NEXT!

H - How would you describe your style?

Many different ways. Descriptive first and foremost. I mean, sometimes I read other people's fics and think they're novel-worthy where mine may not be. Novella, maybe. I'm a bit jumpy sometimes, too, which contributes to that. It's rare for me to have many chapters cover the events of a few hours or a day, usually there's some kind of time skip. I'm getting better about it, I really think Necrosis is where I'm showing improvement with those skips, but they're still there.

I also can't really write something purely fluffy or comedic. There are ALWAYS darker undertones. I was talking about this with my JCB girlies on Discord just earlier today, but it's very rare you'll get a sweet moment from me that doesn't have some kind of undertone that makes it less than fluffy pristine. I can write Henry and Emily being affectionate all I want, it's never gonna be completely right. They're stuck in the lab forced to do this or that in regards to their relationship. They're in the Upside Down having a light conversation about murders they commited before making out on the sofa.

Guys, I turned a doppleganger crossover into a full blown angsty serious duology fic diving into relationship ethics and the role trauma plays in what we want in romantic partners and families. I can't write sunshine and fluffy clouds with unicorns relationship fluff to save my fucking life.

Lastly, this is something you've said about my writing before, but my ability to zoom in on small moments to display broader tones and contexts. It's one thing to say the conditions in HNL were abhorent for everyone involved, it's another to describe Two's tyrrany and all the ways Henry and Emily have been punished for small offenses.

A lot goes into my writing, so I couldn't give you a one or two word "style" to describe it as. Clearly, as with most things, I need six seasons and a movie.

K - What's the angstiest idea you've ever come up with?

Can I say ripping Emily out of Henry's arms after all they've been through together in a scene that made me sob while writing it?

See, the thing is that most of the angst I come up with ends up getting used in one way or another. I suppose in one answer that's probably cheating, it's all the endings that I never wrote or I said weren't canon where my characters just don't get happily ever afters.

Maybe Alice's vision was a reality and Caius really died in front of Emily, the asshole she gave up everything for just taken away in an instant that she can't reverse. Maybe Loki never came back to life in Endgame (in my version he did and got to fight with the other Avengers cause I was piiiiiissed he didn't in the original movie) and Olivia has to watch everyone else get their happy reunions she will never have and has to learn to move on. Vengeance totally consumes Keira until she dies for, ultimately, a lie she created in her head and leaves her daughter behind in the process. So many things.

But I have another idea.

This is not something Emily knows, nor will she ever likely know since I won't really present the chance, but even if Henry did survive after they split ways, she shouldn't see him under any circumstances or even come anywhere near him. If she did, she'd discover that he would be her cantante, her blood singer:

Emily's self control around blood is already extremely strained, if she were to ever find a singer, she'd completely lose it and they'd be dead and drained before you could even say la tua cantante. If she were to ever see Henry again, she's instantly kill him because she couldn't control herself. Then she'd have to spend the rest of her extremely long life living with the fact that she killed her first love with her own hands, all because she couldn't control herself around his blood.

In a sense, unknowingly Henry became something like a forbidden fruit to her.

She'll never know this because they'll never cross paths again, but it's something that I know. And I know the consequences of what would happen if they did meet again.

They're not pretty.

M - Got any premises on the back burner you'd care to share?

I'm always coming up with little ideas, usually going towards the already in-progress fics. But sure, I'll bite.

One is a one shot I spoke of a while ago that takes place towards the end of Necrosis, not after. It'll have to be written and posted only after this point in the story itself because it would go into major spoilers. But the idea is that Emily gets to go back to Hawkins for a little while to just see how the town's evolved since she left. An all grown up Eddie turns up and after they both finally recognize each other, he basically tells her what's happened to Hawkins. Again, I'll keep some details to myself so I'm not revealing all my secrets, but I think it's going to really help Emily fully move past her human trauma that's in a sense been her ball and chain to some degree.

I've also briefly toyed with the idea of maybe trying to do a little Rule 63 and do something with Emily and a Henry who's a female. I don't think it'd change the story all that much, but I'm a sucker for evil women in fiction, let alone evil women lesbian power couples.

Also there's a mild temptation that comes with the idea of something adjacent to a high school AU where Emily and Henry just had normal lives and met in high school. All the classics, extracurriculars they support each other in, Henry sneaking in through Emily's window to study and "study," Henry using Victor's car to take Emily to a drive in, prom night...

Dammit, I'm just going through "Seventeen" from Heathers, aren't I?

Of course, it's not so much a plot bunny for a fresh fic, but once season 2 of Loki starts coming out, Time Variance Detected is getting a sequel. That's always been the plan ever since I knew there would be a season 2, but I'll start the planning and such once we get our first trailer... @ Marvel hint hint.

And maybe I'll write some about Lydia, my Sweeney Todd OC. I have a story in mind for her, but nothing beyond a "this happens then this happens" barebones plan. It's always hard to write fics for musicals because where's the line between dialogue and lyrics that need to be said for plot reasons. It's an idea though.

I also have some drafts I need to finish up that could be considered new ideas, but you'll have to wait for those...

I'll probably even have more ideas before I post this, but I'll stop here.

S - Any fandom tropes you can't resist?

I'm assuming most of my signatures are easy to identify. Corruption arcs, redemption arcs, evil power couples, evil women, transformation scenes, [X] to Lovers, references to other fandoms (some more egriegous than others), and various forms of angst.

Actual footage of me writing my fics tbh.

V - If you could write a sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

Honestly... I wouldn't.

I think the fics I've read ended or began perfectly the way they did. Besides, they're not my stories and only their authors can truly continue them with the same essence and spark they started with. I don't think my writing style would truly capture that same feeling.

I'll instead use this time to do some Twilight fic recs since that's mostly what my bookmarks tab is... listen, the fics for this fandom can be straight up bangers.

This one I was initially apprehensive about since it's a first person fic, but honestly... it adds to the whole experience. The original novels are in first person and this author not only captures Bella's mannerisms, but vastly improves upon them. Plus, the tags of "Bella Swan with a Backbone" and "Out of Character Bella Swan" in sequence absolutely killed me. It's at a bit of a lul, but there are only two more chapters set to come out. Worth the read, 100%

This one just finished. This was I think my first forray into this flavor of Twilight fic and it's very well constructed. I always love fics that turn canon on its head, making Edward deranged at losing Bella and again, making Bella still feel like Bella, just Better. And the characterization is just 🤌.

This one. THIS ONE. MAGNIFIQUE. This author's got some wonderful works and I'd even go as far to say we're amicable. This fic made me feel so many emotions so intensely. I remember staying up well past 3 AM to just keep reading it before common sense won over telling me I had classes in the morning. Then the next day I kept reading... I screamed and flopped around so much I think my roommate thought I was dying. Again, not my usual prefered flavor but DAMN it's so good.

Plus, the way they wrote Caius and Athenodora's relationship made me feel like a middle schooler reading OTP fanfiction again. A peak feeling, squeals and audible "THEY'RE EVERYTHING TO ME" screeches included. You know, in case it wasn't obvious I'm very protective of Caius and whoever he's with at the time. That, and Thena deserves better and I'll go to my grave saying it

W - Do you like more general prompts, or more specific ones?

I like both for different reasons.

Specific prompts means that I get more ideas from the prompt that I may not have come up with in a more broad one. It lets me work around new curves and provides a fun challenge for me.

General prompts let me be a bit more creative, of course. The world's my oyster and I can create anything I want from just a simple idea.

I couldn't really pick one or the other (wow, look, the bisexual disaster can't pick, shocker!).

We're... we're gonna pretend like I don't have several writing requests in my inbox I've been sitting on for months or even years at this point... I'M VERY SORRY, I PROMISE I WILL EVENTUALLY DO THEM.

***

But thanks for the ask as always! And again, here's the customary "I'm sorry for going way too overboard" statement... I genuinely can't help it.