#rewriting scenes
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So, I've always been a little upset at the way Thalia was cast aside after TTC considering how important she was as a thematic clinch for the narrative (like, how wild is it that her death was a primary instigator pushing Luke towards his warped ideology—bro literally spends books 1 and 2 going "oh, you want to talk to ME about Thalia?? Well guess what, she'd be on my side"—and then she shows up with an uno reverse card, effectively ensuring his downfall etc. etc. etc.) and the neglect of her character comes to a head in the climax where she's irritatingly not present even though the entire moment centered around her dynamic with Luke and Annabeth.
But.
There is something to be said about how the only reason Annabeth is there to shock Luke into disillusion is because Thalia shoved her to safety, getting trapped underneath Hera's statue in Annabeth's stead. Thalia never gets the "lost family" emphasis that Luke and Annabeth get because she's always pushed out of the storyline (spending the first half as a three, the latter as a hunter) but even so, her love for them is embedded into every action she takes throughout the series. Luke might have been the one who made the promise to the little girl they found on the streets, but Thalia's the one that kept it.
Still…how cool would it be if the statue fell after the gang already reached Luke—forget Hera, what if it was Kronos/Luke that caused it to fall—and Thalia instinctively pushes Annabeth out of danger at cost to herself highlighting that the main difference between her and Luke is not their feelings towards the gods but that Thalia can't hurt Annabeth or another innocent demigod whereas Luke is so blinded by his personal anger, he's forgotten who he's supposed to be fighting for. And Annabeth sees this and just snaps because this is her family, the only people who were there for her as a kid, and they keep hurting each other over and over for a cause they each believe will serve her. It hurts so much that Annabeth doesn't even look up as Kronos stalks over and Percy screams for her to get out of the way, but she does spit out a bitter, "Family, Luke. You promised", and Luke flinches, turning unconsciously to look at Thalia and sees the legs she broke trying to stop him from hurting Annabeth of all people, and realization crashes upon him like a pile of bricks that he's hurt the two most important people to him in the world. So then he begs Percy—who's watching all of this with a damn, what soap opera did I just walk into expression—for the knife and tries in his last moments to rectify the ridiculous mess he's made and offers a well-deserved apology to the girl who stepped up when he did not and the other who never gave up on him.)
or maybe that's ridiculously cheesy and dramatic and totally stupid. idk.
#pjo#reentering my thalia grace obsession i suppose#rewriting scenes#not saying it's better than the og but i do think i personally would have been more satisfied with this version#and needless to say#absolutely no bs “did you love me” moment here#thalia grace#annabeth chase#luke castellan#tlo
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Part 2/2
By the time Stanley had realized he wasn't as alone as he believed himself to be entrapped in this ravenous abyss; he had honestly begun to suspect that he was finally starting to properly lose his mind.
In all the ceaseless miles that Stanley had journeyed during his apparent permanent residence within the dark devouring void, not once had he encountered another conscious, walking, talking being similar to himself. Every other formerly living creature that he had crossed paths with had been so... silent. Empty. Dead, in every sense of the word. It was as though the very essence of life itself had been sucked out of their bodies with a straw, their forms slowly falling apart piece by piece under the vicious gluttony of the darkness that surrounded them. They looked like they actually were supposed to be there, unmoving and comatose, unlike him.
So, when Stanley first began to encounter the twins, all of a sudden, he wasn't the only one in the dark.
When meeting the first pair of them, he found himself standing in a lake.
He hadn't even noticed the changes at first. It felt as though he had been walking for weeks on end, his body moving purely on autopilot and his aching legs leading him towards a destination only it knew. A thick fog of forgetfulness and flickering memories had descended upon his brain like a heavy blanket of numbing static as he had traveled. In this absentminded state, he hadn't even realized that the ever-present undulating, buzzing darkness surrounding him had begun to gradually shift and morph to form a horizon line; stretching into tall looming cliffsides that almost seemed to close in on him. Once the nonexistent floor beneath his soles abruptly began to ripple and warp, like the disturbed surface of a shallow puddle; only then did he finally notice his transformed environment.
The transition was seamless, almost dream-like. One moment, he was still surrounded by that filthy, overwhelming abyss; and the next, his boots were suddenly plunged deep into the cold, dark lake water.
The silence didn't leave, however. It still choked and stuffed its way into Stanley's ears to clog up his mind with thick cotton; the eerie quiet not quite matching the calm, almost serene scenery the void seemed to have abruptly transformed itself into. Like a movie with its sound cut off; leaving only the unsettling hum of the projector to fill the empty air.
It was odd. The lake was surely incredibly deep. He could obviously tell from how thin and pathetically small the shores appeared all the way from where he now unceremoniously stood in the middle of the lake. Stan could look down and see the darkness below his feet swallow what meager light that managed to break through the murky waters. The overwhelming black almost seemed to beckon him, gaping and haunting; a bottomless underwater pit of pitch black that never seemed to end.
And yet, he didn't sink. Stanley remained perfectly level, the almost ink like waters stopping just at ankle level, as though he were held up just above the surface by some invisible force. Even the writhing waves seemed small and low, as though the waters were shy to climb up his legs further than that. It was odd, so very odd.
However, it wasn't nowhere near as odd as the sight that greeted him when he finally lifted his eyes from the waters.
Stanley had crossed paths with truly unbelievable sights in this strange somewhere; from bursting, collapsing stars; to the imploding heat death of entire universes, but none of them seemed to hold the candle to what he saw then when he lifted his eyes:
Children.
Two, to be exact. Two, nearly identical looking children stood motionless before him; completely soaked through to the bone as though they had taken a plunge into the frigid water that pooled around their ankles. It was a girl and a boy, both adorned with twin expressions utterly devoid of emotion, their wide eyed stare seeming to burn holes into his thin jacket. Their drenched clothes sagged off of their scrawny frames; thin rivulets of water dirpping off of them and disturbing the glassy surface of the water at their feet. The little girl's hair had messily stuck to her face in thin sodden strands, her cheeks still full and round with youth just like the boy's. They looked young. Too young to be in a place such as this.
Oh, but their eyes; their eyes.
They burned with such anger; such injustice, brighter than any dying star or galaxies he had ever seen. Anger towards the world, to fate, to whatever cruel deity that had deemed them fit to be sent to this wretched place so prematurely. They were too young to be here; to be entrapped like he was amongst this hungry darkness. And yet, here they were, sheer denial against their own untimely deaths being the only thing keeping them awake and conscious amongst the dead and rotting. A show of juvenile defiance to nature itself so vehement even the all-consumign darkness seemed hesitant to devour them whole just yet.
It saddened him. It saddened him to know that they belonged there, that they were supposed to be there. He could see it, he could feel it; they were dead. No amount of determination could deny that universal fact.
When they spoke, Stanley could hear anger:
Stan chuckled in a futile attempt to lighten the suddenly heavy atmosphere that threatened to crush him whole. "A lake monster? You kids and your imagination," he teased, hoping to somehow rid the poor kids of the haunted look that seemed to whirl in their glares. No child should have been burdened with such a knowing look; such eyes that looked like they had seen everything there was to see about the world, the horrid and the good.
Clearly, it had been the wrong thing to say, and Stanley's faux pas was rewarded with a scowl from the little boy. A world's worth of sour contempt etched into every contorted groove that his grimace seemed to dig into his much too young face. Stan suddenly felt guilt squeeze at his weary bones for having caused that.
"That's what they all said," the boy spat out, eyes shining with a sheen of wetness Stan wasn't sure he was prepared to deal with.
Stan left that first interaction with the twins with the feeling of guilt and sorrow still clining to him.
He couldn't have known, at the time. He couldn't have known that this wouldn't be anywhere near the last time that he would meet the pair. He hadn't realised just how many of them there were. After that first pair, his endless journeying within the Abyss was hardly be spent alone anymore. Countless more times, he came face to face with the exact same two young and impossibly worn faces; forced to meet one pair of beaten and bruised kids after another.
Not one pair had died the same death as another. Some had gotten lost, prey to whatever threat that had snatched them up out in the open; some had fallen from high up; some had been crushed under an incredible weight; some had burned; some eaten alive; some zombified. Some didn't even seem physically harmed at all, body perfectly intact, and yet that same faraway, distrubed look in their eyes remained.
He thought the worst ones were the ones he found alone. A little girl or a little boy, left all lonesome without their other half there. Twins, he remembered a pair of them telling him once.
Once, he had come across a town full of silent, stone statues. It was a rustic, shabby, almost nostalgic looking town- odd and strangely familiar. The sight of it had tugged at an aged memory that had long since wasted away in the back of his mind. It was serene, almost deceptively so. The sun shone; the air smelled crisp and fresh; numerous waterfalls continued to crash down from the tall cliffsides; and a soft nonexistent breeze whistled through the thicket of pine trees that blanketed the outskirts of the town. None of it seemed to match the gruesome scene of the hundred wailing statues that littered every inch of the town.
He had found the boy's statue on the other side of town, deep within the green forest and toppled over the gnarled roots of a towering tree. Like the rest of the townsfolk, he too, was frozen mid-shriek; his stone face twisted and contorted into a mock impression of a silent scream as his body lay paused in a writhing struggle. He made sure to be gentle when he carried the boy's statue over to place it beside the girl's, whose statue stood far deeper into the forest, sporting the same rictus grimace of terror as her brother's. It somehow felt wrong for them to have been so far apart from one another, even in death.
He had come to dread meeting of the twins. He hated every second he had to confront yet another pair of dead children that did not belong here, but fate had decided they did. He despised having to listen to their tales of woe as they wept about the injustice of the world, of having died young; he despised himself for being unable to do more than weep with them.
"We don't belong here, Grunkle Stan," he would listen to the little girl weep, calling him a title he didn't recognize. He never remembered if they had ever told him their name, but they all seem to know his, without a fail. "If we're dead, then what about you? What about Grunkle Ford? Mom? Dad? What about them? We can't be dead, we can't be," they would say, confusion and frustration written all over their faces. They didn't understand. They didn't understand why they had come to the darkness so early, so unfairly.
He never knew what to say, he'd never been good with words.
All he could do was kneel down to their levels and engulf them in his arms, hoping he could somehow squeeze the pain straight out of their bodies in his embrace. He hugged them, because what else could he do?
#OKAY SO YOU KNOW THAT ONE SCENE IN THE BOOK OF BILL OR SMTH WHERE THEY SHOW ALL THE ALTERNATE UNIVERSE VERSION OF DIPPER AND MABEL#WHEN THEY WEREN'T AS LUCKY AS THEIR ORIGINAL COUNTERPARTS#THAT'S WHO STAN MEETS HERE#I need you people to know that I had to rewrite this whole thing like 3 times because my dumbass#was writing a whole ass fic in TUMBLR DRAFTS so obviously it kept deleting itself <3#but it was worth it for the Stan angst <3#watch how many trigger warnings I can fit in this post#tw child death#tw death#tw dead animals#tw graphic description#tw graphic violence#tw graphic#tw body horror#tw scopophobia#tw gore#TELL ME IF I GOTTA TAG MORE!!#gravity falls#gravity falls au#HWINEBHABWNAJCAHOWEEATOWEUB AU#stanley pines#stan pines#grunkle stan#dipper pines#mabel pines#pines twins#absolutely not beta read- so if there are any grammar mistakes or plot holes... shhhhhh you saw nothing...#my writing#my fic#my art
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They went together au! (X)
#I wanted to keeping making stuff for that third drawing/comic#but I would’ve just been rewriting that whole scene#and no one needs to see me going COMPLETELY insane#anyways when they hashtag balance the force and balance each other#do not tag this as ship art#please god please dont please lord ple#art#fanart#digital art#fan art#star wars#sw#luke skywalker#leia organa
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episode seven: the bite
“Yeah, we ended up trapped in their secret base underneath Hawkins.” Dustin further explains, to which everyone’s eyes widen at. “It was fun. Spent my birthday in mortal danger.” At the same time the kids all wish you a belated birthday, which you salute them for. “Thanks, guys. I’m just happy I wasn’t gravely injured this time.” “And that Steve finally kissed you.” Dustin unhelpfully adds before Steve is covering his mouth to shut him up. His face reddens, embarrassed and nervous. Jonathan is standing too close to him for comfort right now.
Summary: steve and robin are your nightmare blunt rotation, you manage to escape a russian lair: mario cart style, you learn that therapy sessions are fun in public bathrooms, steve places your brother on the russian fbi most wanted list, el probably just killed a bunch of people (deserved), and reunions with jonathan are always special when one of you is gravely injured
Rating: general, cursing
Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, mentions of blood, graphic depictions of blood and gore, cursing
Words: 10.1k
Before you swing in: HI IM ALIVE !!! my laptop isnt ,,,, but im trying to ignore that. sincerely apologize for the wait. my laptop shits down randomly every ten minutes and my new one is backordered so ive been fighting demons to write this. i also had a hard time with the bathroom scene with robin. i wanted to get that scene just right. it took a lot of rewriting, but i think im happy with how it ended up <3 pls enjoy this child of mine. she cost me blood, sweat, and tears lmao
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“Boop!” Steve’s finger pokes your nose and he lets out a delirious giggle. “I booped you!”
At first it was adorable, endearing even, when he booped your nose. However, he’s done this five times now in the last minute alone. That, and you’ve been trying to give Dustin directions back to the elevator while dodging Steve’s surprisingly aggressive nose boops. All while the threat of armed Russians running after the cart looms over you. “Turn left here–would you stop it?”
“Wanna boop that pretty little nose,” Steve’s glossy eyes struggle to find yours, his motor skills delayed and concerning. His left eye has all but swollen shut and you’re still not sure if his unusual behavior is due to head trauma or something else. “C’mere, angel.”
He tries to boop you again, and before you can dodge the attack, Robin’s hand grabs his finger and she lets out a pathetic scoff. “You’re hogging the boops, dingus!”
“Nuh uh!”
“Yeah huh!”
Steve’s arm reaches over you and he bats at Robin. They start to hit one another, though their movements are slow and weak. They giggle as they fight, and you’re stuck in the middle of it. You try to push them off of you, but the two teens are too busy pinching each other and cackling to pay you any attention. It’s miserable.
Erica, from the passenger seat of the cart, turns and winces at your predicament. “What is wrong with them?”
“I don’t know!” Dustin keeps his eyes in front of him as he drives, though he’s equally as confused and unnerved. Secretly, he’s glad he’s the one driving. Otherwise he’d be in the middle of a Steve and Robin giggle sandwich like you are.
“Whose hand is that?” You twist around. There’s a foreign body part that’s currently resting on your ass. Steve snickers and Robin puffs out her cheeks and giggles, neither one of them confessing. You’re about to start kicking shins when the cart comes to a screeching halt. The force of it throws you and the two teens back with a painful thud. “Christ!”
“You guys alright back there?”
Somehow you wind up with Steve’s elbow in your ribcage and Robin’s head smacking into yours. Hissing in pain, you throw the two off of you and glare at your brother. You seriously fear the day he gets his license. “I want to die.”
Dustin turns back around in his seat and gulps. Steve’s and Robin’s own groans of pain can be heard from behind him. “They’re fine.”
Sneakers squeak against the tile floor and the doors to the back of the cart fly open. You’re greeted with Erica and Dustin, eyes wide as they take in the scene before them. You’re squished underneath the teens. You try shoving them off of you again, but they’re dead weight on you.
“Wanna kiss again, Y/N? I really liked it,” Steve smacks his lips as his head rests against your stomach. “Wanted to do that for so long.”
Your cheeks burn at his words and your stomach flutters. You haven’t forgotten about the kiss earlier. God, you haven’t. It leaves you breathless every time you remember how it felt to have him so close, to smell him and taste him. A part of you wants to ask how long he’s thought about kissing you, but you know that the back of a cart while fleeing from Russians isn’t the most appropriate setting.
Robin squirms next to you, her head also somehow on your stomach, pinning you down. “Can I get a kiss too?”
“If either one of you kisses me right now, my knives will be the last things you see.” The two teens make despaired noises, which you groan at. Meanwhile, Dustin and Erica continue to stand at the end of the cart, unmoving. You clench your teeth. “A little help here?”
Dustin mumbles a sheepish apology and yanks Steve’s arm while Erica yanks at Robin, freeing you. As soon as you’re able to, you jump out of the cart and start clapping your hands to speed everyone along. “We gotta go!”
“We’re trying, Y/N!” Erica groans, struggling to get Robin up from the ground.
You start to help, though you nearly fall when Dustin throws Steve against you. A complaint lingers on your lips, but when you see that your brother is now at the elevator doors with a keycard in his hand, you swallow it down.
Steve, however, is full of complaints. “This sucks.”
You blow hair out of your face and don’t bother responding to him. Instead, you watch anxiously as your brother swipes the key card he must’ve stolen earlier. When the scanner’s light flashes green and opens the elevator door, you exhale with relief. At least something has gone right today.
After practically throwing Steve and Robin into the elevator with Erica’s help, Dustin hits a button and closes the door. As soon as it shuts, the room starts to move. You brace yourself, now familiar with how fast the damn thing can go.
The elevator ascends at a nauseating speed and there’s a crash behind you. Turning around, you find Robin holding a dolly in place as Steve gets on. He holds his hands out and starts to cheer as his friend snickers. They look like goddamn toddlers at daycare.
“Hey, no!” You feel like a parent, yanking at Steve’s arm to get him down from the dangerous position. The elevator is moving too fast to be messing around on. “This isn’t playtime–”
“He looks like he’s surfing, Y/N!” Robin squeals with excitement, rolling the dolly to the left.
Steve’s body twists and he steadies himself with a laugh. “I’m surfing!”
“Stop fucking surfing!”
You fight with the teens. Steve refuses to get down and Robin keeps rolling the dolly away from you. As you yell at them, Dustin and Erica exchange concerned looks. You overhear the girl mention how they seem drunk, and you’re about to tell her that she might be right, when Robin pulls the dolly from underneath Steve and sends him crashing into the ground.
“Wipeout!”
You’re checking Steve for injuries as soon as he lands. Dustin kneels next to you and feels his forehead and winces. “He’s burning up.”
Not liking the sound of that, you check Steve’s pupils. The room’s lighting is dim, but it’s obvious that his brown eyes are almost entirely taken over by the blacks of his pupils. “Holy shit, they’re scarily dilated.”
“Ow. Thought you liked my eyes,” Steve swats at your hands sadly. He whines, trying to get you to let go of him. “Said you liked brown.”
“I do like brown, but I also like when you don’t act like a three year old.” You soothe him before turning to Dustin. “Any idea what it could mean?”
“Maybe he’s drugged?” Erica suggests.
You frown. “Could explain why he keeps trying to–” Steve reaches up and boops Dustin’s nose. He giggles and your brother looks annoyed. Sighing, you finish what you had been trying to say. “Boop people. Why he keeps trying to boop people.”
“Your turn, angel!”
Dustin intercepts Steve’s finger, which you’re grateful for. He gently smacks the teen’s face to get his attention. “Steve, are you drugged?”
“How many times, dad?” His voice drips with sarcasm and he rolls his eyes. “I don’t do drugs. It’s only marijuana.”
“Since when do you smoke?”
“Y/N, focus.” Dustin dodges another incoming boop and swats Steve’s hand away. “This isn’t funny, okay? We need to know what they did to you.”
“C’mon, honey.” Your fingers run through Steve’s hair. Parts of it have dried blood. Something more than a beating happened to him and Robin, you just don’t know what. If they’re really drugged, you have no way of knowing if they’ll be okay, and a part of you is terrified. “Work with us, please. What did they give you?”
“Are you gonna die on us?” Dustin asks, concerned as well.
“I’ll tell you!” Robin shouts from the corner she’s slouched in, eager to please you. She twirls her hair around her finger and gives you an unsettling smile. “We all die, my strange little child friend. It’s just a matter of how… and when.”
Neither you nor Dustin say anything for a few moments. Both of you blink, trying to process what exactly the teen has just said. Afraid to look away from her in case she tries to possess you or something, you slowly nod. “Okay, thank you for sharing, Robin.”
She flashes you a thumbs up and proudly smiles. “Happy to help!”
“They’re gonna be looking for us up there,” your brother redirects the attention back to the fact that you’re all still very much in danger. He starts to interrogate Steve, trying to come up with a plan. “So I need you to tell me where you parked your car.”
“Oh, can we make a pit stop at the food court?” Steve’s eyes glaze over and you know you’ve lost him again.
Robin leans forward and starts playing with your hair. “I would kill for a hot dog on a stick!”
You snap your fingers at the two of them. They’re impossible to level with, you’re not even sure why you’re still trying. “Guys, we need to focus.”
“No! No hot dog on a stick,” Steve suddenly lifts himself up and glares at Robin. “The guy at the counter said that Y/N she has pretty eyes. He’s an asshole.”
“You mean Dave? When the hell did he say that?”
Steve scoffs at you. “Last week. Ruined my whole day.”
“Fine! We’ll get you and Robin something else to eat.” Dustin says, which Robin cheers at, though he ignores her. “But only if you tell me where your car is parked.”
Suddenly Steve’s hazy eyes fill with remorse. “Uh-oh.”
“Uh-oh? I don’t like uh-oh, can we not uh-oh?” Dustin nudges you with his shoulder to shut you up and let Steve explain. You mumble an apology. “Okay, why the uh-oh?”
“They took the keys.” Steve shoves his hands into his pockets and reveals that there’s nothing in them. “The Russians, they took the keys. Like forever ago.” For some reason this is hilarious to Robin, who starts to laugh hysterically in the corner. He joins her, amused by the whole thing. “That’s a bummer, right?”
You drop your head in your hands as Dustin sighs. With no keys and no way out of the mall, you’re not sure what else you can do. The only other option would be the bus that takes commuters home, but it comes every few hours and you have no idea what time it even is right now.
Which means you’d be left with having to hide a very drugged up Steve and Robin in a giant mall swarming with Russian undercover guards for an unforeseen amount of time.
Not ideal.
“We’re doomed.” You sigh into your hands.
Dustin nods beside you. “Yeah. We’re doomed.”
–
When the five of you finally reach the mall, you guide everyone through the back hallway and fling the doors open. Fresh air hits your face and you take a moment to inhale. It’s only then that you notice that it’s dark outside. The air is warm, crickets chirp faintly from far away. What day is it? How long could you have possibly been down in the lair?
As you have a minor breakdown trying to get your bearings, Steve and Robin walk behind you. Their mouths are wide open as they greet the fresh air with glee. “Oh my God, that tastes so good! Steve, can you taste the air?”
They stick their tongues out and marvel at the world around them. “I taste it!”
You watch them with your arms crossed. If you had any suspicion before that they were drugged, seeing them try to eat the air only confirms it.
“Shit!” Dustin screams out of nowhere and grabs your hand. He tugs at you to start running. You look up and see two Russians men now running straight towards you.
“Come on!” You grab Erica’s hand and shove her in front of you to run alongside your brother. Then you grab Steve and Robin by their shoulders and all but throw them against the mall’s door. “Go!”
“Why are we running?” Steve mopes, tired from all the physical activity he’s been forced to endure these last few minutes.
You don’t bother answering him and instead shove him inside the second Dustin gets the mall’s doors opened. Everyone runs, though you’re not sure if anyone has an actual plan. The guard’s footsteps can be heard behind you, and all you know is that you guys need to hide until you can figure something else out.
“Any chance you guys know any hiding spots?” You shout behind you to the kids, nearly tripping over your feet as you do so.
“No, this mall is one giant public swamp.” Dustin responds, huffing.
Steve stumbles next to you, still obviously drugged up, yet giggling as always. “It feels like we’re running from movie villains!”
Turning a corner, what Steve has said floats through your mind. Running from movie villains… What are the odds the Russians know about American movie theaters? They’re dark and usually crowded with people for night showings. It could be the only safe place to hide.
“Dustin, start heading towards the theater!” Erica and your brother start asking you questions, but you don’t have time to explain. “Just trust me.”
Somehow you all make it to the theater’s doors without being detected. Poking your head through, you make sure there isn’t anyone nearby. When you’re sure it’s safe, you open the door wider and motion for everyone to follow. “Let’s go.”
Dustin guides, dragging Robin behind him while Erica follows. You stay with Steve and start walking once the others have gone ahead.
“Awesome, movie date!” Steve exclaims with a dopey smile. He’s about to say something else when his eyes find something. Completely forgetting that you’re holding his hand, he runs towards a nearby trash can. He pulls out a bag of popcorn that had been on top of the trash pile and quickly starts shoving the food into his mouth.
“If you ever wanna kiss me again, stop eating trash popcorn.” You snatch the bag out of his hands with a disgusted face. “I cannot believe I have to tell you that.”
“But I’m hungry.” Steve pouts, staring down at his now empty hands with despair.
You ignore his pathetic pouting and follow Dustin, who has now flung open the curtains to the theater’s seats. He scopes the area and starts heading right. When he stops at two open seats, he points his finger at Steve and Robin. “You two, sit.”
“But these seats are too close!” Robin complains, and Steve voices his own qualms about the seating arrangements.
However, you have other things to worry about. Shoving the teens into their seats, you wipe away crumbs on the ground with your shoe. “I’ll sit on the floor next to them. No way I’m leaving them alone when they’re high off their asses.”
Dustin looks at you, skeptical. He doesn’t want to leave you alone with them, afraid they’ll somehow get you into trouble. “You sure?”
“Positive. I’ll take care of them.” you squeeze his arm. While you understand his concern, you can’t bring yourself to abandon Steve and Robin again. Not when Steve’s face still bleeds slightly and Robin’s cheek swells with a bruise. They got hurt because of you; the least you can do is stay with them now. “Find other seats, we’ll be fine here. Just… be careful, alright?”
A man behind you shushes you rudely, reminding you where you are. If the kids don’t leave now, they run the risk of drawing more attention. You push your brother back up the aisle of seats, and he seems to understand what you’re doing. “Fine, but whatever you guys do: Don’t. Go. Anywhere.”
“Fine, dad.” Steve glares at the kid, which you sigh at. It’s going to be a long night.
Dustin leaves after you’ve saluted him, and Erica follows. Once they’re gone, you do your best to keep Steve and Robin quiet. As you shush them, you look up and see Dustin standing near the exit. You tilt your head, hoping he sees your questioning, and thankfully he does. He holds his radio up and mimes making a phone call.
He’s calling for help.
You nod at Dustin, indicating that you understand, and he leaves. After you’ve checked to make sure Erica is still in her own seat at the other end of the row, you turn back towards Steve and Robin; they’re enamored with the movie playing. They whisper to themselves, not understanding what’s happening, but at least they’re quiet and out of danger. Slowly, you start to relax.
All you have to do is stay in this movie theater until Dustin can contact the party for help. Should be simple enough. Except you make the fatal mistake of absentmindedly mentioning that you’re thirsty. “God, I need water right now.”
“Water.” Robin exhales as if it’s a prayer. Her entire face twists into longing and she hits Steve’s shoulder. “Water. Now.”
“On it!” He nods earnestly and suddenly the two of them are scrambling out of their seats. You snap your fingers at them, hiss whispered threats, but they don’t listen. They climb over you as if you’re an inconvenient bug on the ground.
Before you can even stand up, they’re already halfway up the aisle of seats. You barely have time to get up before they’ve left the theater itself. “I’m so over them being drugged.” You huff, running after them. There isn’t time to tell Erica where you’re going, too afraid you’ll lose them if you don’t hurry.
Those fuckers better save you some water.
–
Steve makes you hold the button on the water fountain because he “can’t do it himself”.
“Is my help really necessary?” You complain, arms crossed as you watch Steve messily gulp water down. His neck is bent at an awkward angle and for a brief moment you truly question whether or not you find him attractive. Water drips down his chin and his gulps are obscenely loud.
“Yes,” Steve responds in between slurps. The cold water washes over him and he’s never felt closer to God than in this moment. “That’s amazing.”
Robin stands next to you, patiently waiting her turn. “So like, I wasn’t totally focused in there or anything, but I’m pretty sure that mom was trying to bang her son.”
“In the movie?” You hadn’t been paying much attention in the theater. Your view from the ground was shitty and you were too busy making sure the idiots didn’t somehow kill themselves. However, despite your lack of attention, you doubt that’s what the movie’s premise had been about.
“Wait, the hot chick was Alex P. Keaton’s mom?” Your hip knocks against Steve’s, causing him to choke on the water he’d been drinking. Coughing, he clutches at his chest. “I could’ve died, Y/N!”
“Sorry,” you smile sympathetically at him, feigning pity. He lost the privilege of calling other women hot after getting you locked in a Russian elevator for twelve hours. “My hip slipped.”
“Aren’t you two going to question how the guy was able to go back in time?” Robin is still focused on the whole son being in love with his mom plotline.
Steve inhales even more water. “Then why is it called Back to the Future?”
Robin begins explaining the complexities of the movie, but you tune her out. While you appreciate that she’s trying to make conversation, you’re uneasy about being out in the open like this. There’s no one around, but you can never be too careful. It’s only when she shoves Steve away from the water fountain that you focus again.
“Wait, I was supposed to go after him–” Your protesting falls on deaf ears as Robin steals your turn for water. Reluctantly, you step away. She can hold her own damn water fountain button.
You notice that Steve has wandered off a few feet away. He still stumbles as he walks, though his footsteps aren’t as unsteady as they were earlier. He stops in the middle of the walkway and you join him.
“Wow,” he breathes out, looking up. He’s mesmerized by what he’s seeing. Curious, you look up as well, though you only see the skylights above. It’s night, no natural light flows through the panels. Yet Steve stands transfixed next to you. “The stars.”
“The stars?” You’re not sure what he means. You can’t see the stars from where you stand. Then again, you suppose he could be seeing things, given that he’s heavily drugged up.
“The stars are pretty like you, angel.” Steve says, eyes still on the sky, yet his hand somehow finds yours. He intertwines your fingers together and is able to pull you closer, albeit weakly. “You’ve always been so beautiful… scared me when we were younger.”
Your breath catches and you look at him. He’s looking up, seemingly unaware of the effect his words have on you. An overwhelming warmth fills your chest. You want to say something, tell him you love him and that his beauty last July had terrified you.
But you don’t say anything. Steve is still high, he wouldn’t remember what you’ve said, and you want your confessions to sit within his chest the way his sit in yours. Instead, you find yourself admiring him. You study the length of his neck. The mole that rests just below his jaw and the others that litter his pretty face. His nose, the dip of his chin. The hair tucked behind his ears. His eyes.
Steve Harrington is beautiful. Scars and all.
Then he starts to gag and quickly the moment is ruined.
“Oh, God.” You quickly grab his shoulders and frantically look for the nearest bathroom. In your haste, Robin reacts to Steve’s sudden sickness by gagging as well, and you’re very afraid of what’s about to unfold. “Okay, bathroom time! For the love of God, we need to find a bathroom.”
They’re useless as you twist and turn them around as you search for a bathroom. When you see a nearby sign, you drag them behind you and pray that they make it the next fifteen feet. As soon as you barrel through the bathroom door, Steve and Robin run out from behind you and just barely make it to the toilets before spilling their guts.
You stand near the doorway, cringing. It’s not a pretty sight.
They puke, spit out the excess, and flush the toilet to clear it before the next round of vomiting begins. Then they do it all over again. It goes on like this for a while, and all you can do is linger in the doorway and offer halfhearted comfort from across the room. You’ve never really gotten over your slight fear of vomit, if you’re being honest.
Eventually Steve and Robin seem to throw everything up. When they’ve flushed the last of their sickness down, you hesitantly walk towards them and stand in between the stalls. “We feeling any better?”
“The room stopped spinning for me.” Robin says, her feet propped against the stall’s wall. You have no idea how she’s laying down the bathroom’s ground so casually. “Steve, is it still spinning for you?”
He looks up for a moment, testing what will happen. When he feels perfectly fine, he exhales with relief. “Holy shit. No.”
“You probably flushed the drugs out of your system when you puked.” You observe, leaning against the stall’s divider. “What were you guys on?”
“Allegedly a truth serum.” Robin says from the floor. “Ask me something, test if it’s really all gone.” Then, because she’s trying to get you to laugh, she lowers her voice and impersonates one of the Russians. “Interrogate me.”
Though you smile at her, your stomach twists. Not only were they beaten for information, they were also injected with a goddamn truth serum. Treated like lab rats. And you left them behind, all alone; you’ll never forgive yourself for that.
But they’re here with you now, you remind yourself. They came out the other side. So you’ll do whatever you can to make it up to them and show them that you’re here for them. Even if that means asking bizarre questions to make sure they’re no longer being controlled by truth serums. “When was the last time you peed your pants?”
“Today.”
Steve looks at you to make sure you’ve also just heard Robin’s response. “What?”
You shrug. “I can’t really judge. I peed my bed a few years ago. Watched a scary movie with Dustin and had a nightmare. Wasn’t my proudest moment.”
“What?” Steve can’t believe what he’s hearing.
“See!” Robin lifts her head up from the ground to look at you. “I was also scared. When the Russian doctor pulled out a bone saw, it was only a little bit, but holy shit.”
She starts to laugh and you join her, despite the image of the bone saw you saw burning your mind. You had seen it in the room when you were saving them. It had terrified you. Yet Robin laughs about it now, so you allow yourself to as well.
Steve shakes his head at you both. “Yeah, it’s definitely still in her system.”
“And it’s not in yours, Harrington?”
His eyes shine when he looks at you. He’s coming back to himself, you can feel it. The knowing smirk is back. “Clean as a whistle, Henderson.”
Robin clears her throat, now uncomfortable. “Aright, my turn. I want to ask him a question.” When Steve gives her the okay, she takes a deep breath. She looks at you, a resigned look on her face. Something seems to have struck her, something that terrifies her. Her laughter is gone. “Have you… ever been in love?”
Steve doesn’t expect the question. He looks startled by it and tilts his head up at you. Your eyes meet, and you nod, giving him the permission he doesn’t truly need. You talked about it once, last year. The two of you in your room late one night, whispering confessions about love and the pain it brought. It was never a secret.
“Yep. Nancy Wheeler. First semester, senior year.” Steve mimes a gunshot to his heart, trying to lessen the unease. He will never really feel comfortable talking about that time of his life.
“Oh, my God.” Robin rolls her eyes. “She’s such a priss.”
You walk over to her stall and nudge her leg with your shoe. “Hey, she’s my friend, ya know.” Ignoring how dirty the bathroom floor inevitably is, you sit next to Robin. “She’s not a priss.”
“At least, not really.” Steve adds, nostalgia in his voice.
Robin seems to hear it, too. She sits up, eyes not meeting yours. “Are you still in love with Nancy?”
Without meaning to, you hold your breath. You know Steve no longer loves her, but it’s July and somehow he still isn’t yours. There’s still trust between you, but your body tenses and your heart stutters.
And yet Steve doesn’t hesitate. It’s immediate. He doesn’t even have to think about it. He’s known since April, though his body has known since he offered you his hand the day you almost hit his car with your bike. “No.”
“Why not?” Robin doesn’t know why she’s pushing this. You’re next to her, your thigh presses against hers. She knows that Steve is in love with you. He confessed it to her when she was teasing him about it just a few days ago. She devoted an entire whiteboard to tallying all the times he failed to ask you out.
Steve is yours, and you’re his, but Robin can’t help but pick at scabs and expose old wounds.
There’s a few moments of silence. Steve takes his time responding. He can almost feel your hand ghosting over his, even though you’re separated by a stall. “I think it’s because I found someone who’s a little bit better for me.”
You’re quiet. Robin is as well.
“You know, it’s crazy.” Maybe it’s the truth serum still coursing through Steve’s veins or maybe it’s because he’s almost died a million times tonight. All he knows is that he’s tired of running. You deserve to know how he feels about you. “Ever since Dustin got home, he’s been badgering me about asking this girl out. That I need to ‘find my Suzie’. A girl he met at camp who somehow became his girlfriend, who I’m not even sure is actually real.”
He’s rambling. He knows he is, but you and Robin remain silent and patiently wait for him to keep going. Steve inhales, holds the breath for a few seconds, and exhales. All summer he’s been agonizing over this very moment. He’s spent countless sleepless nights terrified that he’d somehow ruin it. In the end, his own cowardice only hurt you; he still remembers the way your body shook in his arms while he held you as you cried last night. Steve remembers the fear on your face when you realized you couldn’t save him. That the Russians were going to take him away from you.
It was then, seeing the terror in your eyes and hearing the desperation in your voice, that Steve Harrington finally realized you would give all of yourself to him; that is what love is.
To love someone is to know that they deserve your love.
And for some reason you love Steve. You see something in him that deserves your love. He’s no longer terrified that his love isn’t enough for you. He realizes now that it’s enough. His love is enough because it is his.
You deserve love, and Steve is more than happy to give all of his to you.
“The point is,” Steve runs a hand through his hair. He can feel you listening, waiting. “This girl, you know, the one that I love, it’s somebody that I didn’t even talk to in school… and I don’t even know why.”
A small laugh cuts through the barrier between you and Steve. The two of you spent years together in school, and not once did he ever talk to you. There was one time, early sophomore year, when he collided with you in the hallway while running to the bathroom to meet Nancy. He had apologized to you, but he continued running and hadn’t looked back.
It was two years ago, but you had only been kids, then.
Hearing your laugh emboldens Steve. He clears his throat, lifts his head. He wishes you were in the stall with him. “I think… I think I was scared. I had always watched her from afar. I mean, here was this girl who would offer help to anyone who needed it. Didn’t matter who they were, she’d help them. I just, I didn’t understand. I couldn’t understand why someone would go out of their way to help others without expecting anything in return.”
“I mean, there I was, worrying about being prom king while this girl was tutoring kids for free in the school library.” Steve scoffs at himself. He will never forgive himself for wasting all those years with you. He could’ve been your friend sooner had he not been such an asshole. “It’s stupid. I mean, Dustin’s right, it’s all just a bunch of bullshit anyways. Because when I think about it, I should’ve been friends with this girl the whole time.”
You rest your head against the wall, buzzed with warmth. “You should’ve,” you find yourself saying softly. Though you know yourself. Steve came into your life when you needed him the most, at the right time, for the right reasons. The timing had never been right before. “But I’m sure the girl is glad you ended up how you did.”
“Me, too.” Warm honey laces Steve’s voice. He can almost feel your body on his. He can see the lines and strings above him, materializing into something more solid with every word he says. “Still should’ve happened sooner, though. I mean, this girl we’re talking about is incredible. She makes me laugh more than anyone I’ve ever met. She’s witty, she always knows what to say and she’s so goddamn smart. I don’t think she knows this, but she has this way with people…”
His voice trails off. It’s what he loves the most about you. The effect you have on everyone you meet. The impact you make within a person’s life simply by smiling at them. “She has a way of making someone into a better person without even realizing it, just by being a part of their life. She… she made me a better person. Taught me to be softer, more vulnerable.”
Steve hadn’t known gentleness until he met you.
To your left, Robin starts to close in on herself with every word he Steve says. She slouches down, drops her head into her knees almost as if in despair.
“She saw this good in me that no one else had before. For some reason, instead of using it against me like others have, she believed that I could be someone different. That I could change… It didn’t matter how long it would take me, she would wait. And I’m so goddamn lucky to be in love with someone as selfless as her.”
Guilt eats away at Robin. She’s harbored a resentment towards Steve all summer, even though she tried to swallow the feeling down. The love between you and Steve had always been obvious from the first day she met you. She watched the two of you dance around each other every day, basking in the sickly sweet young love you shared with one another.
It’s not that Robin resented your relationship with Steve. No, she was happy for you, truly. The bitter taste in her mouth whenever she watched you gently stroke his cheek with your fingertips was remorse intermingling with resentment because she will never be able to do that. She will never be able to love someone so openly. To have someone hold her hand and call her tender names.
You’re a beautiful girl with a boy who could adore you freely. Robin can only ever watch you from the shadows, scared to be caught.
You notice Robin’s shift in demeanor and press your body closer to hers. You’ve never seen her look so small before, so unsure of herself, and it worries you. “Hey, is everything okay?”
She shakes her head, too afraid that if she talks she’ll start to cry. The kindness that you offer her stings. She doesn’t deserve it. Not when she believes you outshine the sun. Before she can make up some excuse, Steve knocks on the stall. “Robin? Y/N? Did someone just OD over there?”
“No,” Robin’s breath is shaky, which worries you even more. “We’re still alive.”
You try to meet her eye, but she won’t look up at you. You’re not sure what’s happened, but she’s closed herself off from you; you feel like an intruder. Placing an arm on her shoulder, you’re about to offer her some more water when Steve’s body slides into the stall.
He settles himself across from you, shy with his movements. Your heart lurches when you see him, too. He confessed his love for you only moments prior, and you want nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and call him yours, but Robin looks pale. She’s scared. You just don’t know why.
“The floor’s disgusting,” she says to Steve, hoping to get the attention off of her.
“Yeah, well, I already got a bunch of blood and puke on my shirt, so…” He looks down, cringes slightly. You remain silent, and Robin’s eyes are still downcast. Seeing this, Steve tries to lighten the mood and asks Robin a teasing question. “So, what do you think?”
“About?”
“This girl,” he turns to you, then. He looks at you with such fondness and knows that both you and Robin know he had been talking about you the entire time. He’s trying to get you to laugh, bring a smile back to your faces.
Robin tries to play along, swallowing down the remaining bitterness. You’re sitting next to her, your hand is still on her arm. “She sounds awesome.”
“She is awesome.” Steve winks at you, hoping it’ll get you to blush the pretty pink he loves so much. When it works, he smiles. “And what about the guy?”
“I think he’s as sweet as honey in July.” You say, giving into Steve’s charm. It’s worked on you ever since the day you crashed into that ditch, even if back then you refused to admit it.
“Yeah? Well, I think he’s on drugs, and that he’s not thinking straight. That he doesn’t realize how lucky he is.” Robin interjects. She doesn’t look at you, her eyes remain on Steve. You raise your eyebrows at what she’s said. You hadn’t expected such a pessimistic response from her.
Off put by her sudden dejection, Steve becomes defensive. He doesn’t understand what Robin is doing. She was the one who kept encouraging Steve to ask you out all summer. “Really? ‘Cause I think he’s thinking a lot more clearly than usual. He knows what luck is.”
“Does he? What if there’s this other girl, one he hasn’t seen yet. I mean, really seen.” Robin swallows. Her fingers twist together nervously. “What if he one day sees her and realizes just how unlucky she is. I don’t think the guy would ever want to be her friend after that.”
“No, that’s not true. No way is that true.” Steve shifts closer to the two of you now, confused as to why Robin is saying all of this. Of course she’s his friend. “I mean, apart from the girl he’s in love with, this other girl is the guy’s only friend.”
“Listen to me, Steve.” Robin still doesn’t look at you, but you listen silently and allow her the space she seems to need. “It’s shocked me to my core, but I like you. I really like you, but I’m not lucky like you are. I think… I think you should use that luck. Go for the girl.”
Steve tilts his head, not quite following. “What does luck have to do with any of it?”
Robin sighs and you sit next to her, quiet. She seems to be trying to figure out what she wants to say, and somehow you think you know what she means by luck. It’s always fascinated you, luck and love. Two sides of the same coin. But it never occurred to you that there could be an undercurrent that cuts through the luck. A double meaning behind it.
“Do you remember what I said about Click’s class? About me being jealous and, like, obsessed?”
“Yeah,”
Robin closes her eyes and sighs. When she opens them, there’s a resolved look in them. “It… It isn’t because I had a crush on you. It’s because she wouldn’t stop staring at you.”
At first, you’re confused. You had missed their conversation about Mrs. Click’s class. They must’ve had it when they were being held captive, but the phrasing of what Robin has just said feels heavier than it should. Her words land on you with a force you hadn’t seen coming.
If Robin had for some reason talked about being obsessed with Steve in a class they once shared, but not because she had a crush on him, but because a girl wouldn’t stop staring at him…
“Mrs. Click?”
Even though you’ve done well remaining silent this entire time, you can’t help but snort at Steve’s response. He’s trying, you know he is. Robin must know this too, because she laughs softly at him as well. “No, Steve.” Her smile dims, however. “That would’ve made things easier for me, though.”
Easier. Luckier.
And then it all clicks.
Robin’s insistence on always pleasing you. The subtle touches. The way her eyes would darken sometimes when you looked at Steve. How, only an hour ago, she had asked you for a kiss when she was still under the influence of the truth serum.
You draw your hand towards hers and slowly thread your fingers together. Robin’s head spins, she finally allows herself to look at you. She finds your eyes staring into hers. They’re kind, understanding. You’re looking right through her in this very moment, and Robin Buckley has never been more afraid.
“How long have you known?” You ask her, voice gentle.
Robin’s voice shakes. “Since Tammy Thompson…” She has to look away from you. She can’t do this with you looking at her. “She was in Mrs. Click’s class with me and Steve. I–I wanted her to look at me, but.. She couldn’t pull her eyes away from him and his stupid hair.”
She pauses, tries to compose herself, and you squeeze her hand three times. Once to tell her that you’re there, another to give her the reassurance to go on, and the final time to communicate that you understand. There isn’t a reason to be scared. Somehow, Robin knows what the gesture means. Breathing in, she looks at Steve and continues.
“And I didn’t understand, because you would get bagel crumbs all over the floor and you asked dumb questions and you were a douchebag. And–and you didn’t even like her and I–” Her voice breaks. “I would go home… and just scream into my pillow.”
Steve looks between the two of you. It’s obvious he’s the only one not aware of the underlying layers. “But Tammy Thompson’s a girl.”
“Steve,” Robin breathes out, pleading. She doesn’t want to say it out loud. She can’t say it out loud. He needs to understand what she’s trying to say. Why she’s been giving him hell all summer. Why she feels guilty when she looks at you.
“Yeah?” But he doesn’t understand.
Robin can’t say anything. She looks at him, can feel the tears in her eyes; she’s begging now. Steve’s eyes find yours, silently begging you as well to explain this to him. He doesn’t understand what he’s doing wrong. He doesn’t want to be doing something that could hurt Robin like this.
Your shoes squeak against the tile floors as you draw your knees into your chest. You’re not sure what else you can do. Robin has laid everything out for Steve. Your hand still holds hers and you try to quell the fear within you that maybe he’s being intentionally naive. Maybe he doesn’t want to believe it.
“Oh.”
It’s one word, one exhale of breath from a mouth that once used to say cruel things. Steve’s face softens, his jaw unclenches and his shoulders relax. He surprises you, showing nothing but empathy. He’s kind, he’s always been kind.
“Holy shit,” Steve doesn’t want to mess this up, but he’s never been good with words.
Robin laughs. “Yeah, holy shit.”
He sighs and leans against the stall wall. It’s quiet between the three of you. No one really knows what to say now. Steve is still processing, Robin’s heartbeat still hasn’t quite settled, and you’re trying to figure out how to tell her that you understand more than she may know. She’s braver than you, trusted you with this secret, and it’s only fair that you offer her a part of yourself as well.
Plus, it’s a wonderful ice breaker.
“You have terrible taste in women, Robin.” You nudge her with your shoulder, teasing. “I mean, I’ve heard Tammy Thompson during choir rehearsal. You can totally do better.”
“She wants to be a singer, she has dreams!” Robin defends the girl, the change in conversation bizarre but welcomed.
Steve, sensing that you’re trying to lessen the tension, gratefully plays along. “So what she has dreams? She can’t even carry a tune. But, more importantly, what do you know about taste in women, Y/N?”
“I see things,” you jut your head out, defiant. “Probably would’ve fallen in love with Nancy Wheeler had I known her instead of Jonathan.”
Their reactions are expected.
“You would’ve loved Nancy?” Steve exclaims at the same time as Robin guffaws, “You loved Byers?”
You laugh. It’s a full, whole body laugh. One you haven’t felt in so long. “Yes,” you wheeze out, the look on their faces killing you. Steve looks unnerved while Robin looks disgusted. “At least Jonathan doesn’t sound like a muppet when he sings.”
“Tammy does not!” Robin is laughing alongside you now. It’s been a long time since she’s laughed this hard, too.
Steve rolls his eyes, his own smile overtaking his face. “She sounds like a muppet giving birth, Robin.”
“That’s what she reminds me of!” You snap your fingers and point at him. “You’re right!”
Robin clutches her stomach as she laughs. She leans into your side as you lean into her. Steve starts doing a terrible impersonation of Tammy’s awful singing, which only gets the two of you to laugh even harder. Steve gets you to sing along. He grabs the hand that isn’t holding Robin’s and swings it around as the two of you sing. Robin joins, laughing more than singing. It’s lovely. Absolutely lovely.
And this is how Dustin finds the three of you.
He slams the bathroom door open, Erica right behind him, and stands in front of you.
“Okay,” he glares at you specifically. “What the hell, Y/N?”
You giggle at his disappointed dad stance. “I told you I’d take care of them.”
Dustin isn’t amused, which only makes your giggles turn to laughter again. The other two teens aren’t far behind you, descending into yet another fit of laughter. Hunched together, the three of you giggle breathlessly as your brother and Erica watch in disbelief.
But you ignore their questioning stares.
With both Steve and Robin holding your hands, laughter warming your belly, you feel like a kid again.
–
The bus becomes your only option.
“I managed to contact the party.” Dustin had informed you after your laughter died down.
Relief washed over you. “Thank God–”
“But then my walkie died.”
“Yeah,” you had sighed and dropped your head down in defeat. “Yeah, of course it did. Why wouldn’t it die when we need it?”
Which leads you to now: peering out the bathroom door with Steve breathing down your neck and Dustin in front of you, checking to make sure it’s safe. A crowd of people flood the once empty hallway. The movie must’ve just finished. Everyone is talking excitedly, having no idea that five teenagers are currently hiding in the bathroom from Russians.
You envy them.
“When I say ‘blend’, we go. Okay?” Dustin asks the group, eyes still on the mass of people exiting the theater.
“Because Steve dripping blood definitely will blend in.” You retort. It’ll be hard not to draw attention to yourselves with the way his face still oozes. It’s a long walk down to the bus station and you’re getting worried now. The mall closes in ten minutes, soon there won’t be any crowds to hide behind.
Dustin doesn’t bother justifying your remark. Instead he studies the flow of traffic before giving his signal. “Blend.”
The five of you swiftly exit the bathroom and align your pace with everyone around you. Dustin guides in front with Erica while you stay back with Steve and Robin. Your eyes move constantly, scanning every face you pass. Thankfully, the people close to you seem innocent enough.
Erica looks around, impressed. “Well, shit. That worked.”
“Of course it worked.” Dustin is smug, which makes you wince. He’s always had a bad habit of jinxing things. You really wish he had gotten more of your mom’s humility and less of your dad’s ego. “Now we just have to get on the bus with the rest of these plebes, and home sweet home, here we come.”
You shove your brother. “Can we not taunt our inevitable bad luck?”
“We’re in the clear now, Y/N. Trust me, in just twenty minutes we’ll be back home, where our dear mother awaits with her frantic arms wide open–”
“Uh, Dustin?” Steve eyes him nervously. Already you dread whatever he’s about to say. You guys only lasted thirty seconds without any bad luck. It’s a new record, honestly.
“What?”
“Yeah, we might not wanna go to your house.”
“Why?”
“Well,” Steve winces with regret. He knows he’s about to piss both Hendersons off. “I might’ve told them your full name.”
Dustin turns to look at him, bewildered. “What is wrong with you?”
“Dude, I was drugged.” Steve argues, which. Yeah. That’s fair.
Not liking that he apparently sold your brother out to Russians, yet understanding that Steve hadn’t been the most clear headed when it happened, you grab his hand. There’s more important matters to deal with, like whether or not he sold you out as well. “Did you tell them my full name?”
“No, I kept you safe.” He says, with an air of obviousness that you smirk at.
“Aw, thanks honey.” You kiss his cheek, not caring that Dustin is fuming in front of you.
“Oh, so you can resist for your girlfriend but not for her brother?” Dustin struggles to keep his voice low. He has never wanted to shove Steve down a flight of stairs more. “You were supposed to tough it out. Like a man!”
You flick the kid’s hat. “Hey, he was very manly defending my honor.”
“I hate you both–”
Robin suddenly freezes, her eyes catching on something. “Guys…”
Everyone stops, alarmed by the tone in her voice, before you see them. There, standing right in front of the exit of the mall, are the two Russian men from the alley. They’re stopping people, checking their faces, looking for you.
“Abort.” Dustin says, before one of the men makes direct eye contact with him. His face pales and you already have one hand on his shoulder, pulling at him to run. “Abort!”
Steve grabs Erica’s hand and motions for you and Dustin to run ahead as Robin guides. She pushes through the crowd of people and towards the escalators. However, when you get there, they’re roped off and blocked by plexiglass.
You kick at the glass, frustrated. The Russians are close now. Robin, quick as ever, steps past you and places herself in the middle of the two escalators. You’re confused at first, but then you realize there’s just enough space for your bodies to fit through. Sitting down, Robin is able to use the gap as a makeshift slide.
“Let’s go,” Steve places Erica to slide down next, then Dustin. When it’s your turn, he nods at you. “Ready?”
“I’m so tired of running from these shitheads.” You say before launching yourself down the escalators.
Robin waits for everyone at the bottom. When you’re all there, she waves for you to follow as you run again. None of you have any idea where to even hide now that the mall has emptied. There’s no one to hide behind, no corner to run into. And the goddamn Russians are fast, never trailing more than fifty feet behind you.
Somehow you end up in the food court. It isn’t much, but there’s at least vendor’s stalls and restaurant counters nearby. Panting, you point towards the nearest counter. “There! Everyone jump over!”
No one argues, doing as they’re told. You make it there first and help Erica over while Steve and Robin help Dustin. Kneeling down, you motion for everyone to sit with a finger to your lips. The men have to be nearby, you can practically feel their presence close. Facing your friends, you grip your knives and strain your ears for any sounds.
It’s tense. Dustin pants, he’s scared and overwhelmed and you wish you could offer him better protection. Steve glances at you, silently asking you what the next move is, and you shake your head helplessly. You’re cornered, there’s no way out of this one.
The sound of boots falling against the mall’s ground approaches. It grows louder and louder at a maddeningly slow pace. Your knuckles are white from how tightly they grip around the hilt of your switchblade. With one flick of your wrist, you know you could at least disarm one of the men long enough to cause a distraction. You’d never kill anyone, but you know from experience that a cut to the shoulder is sufficient enough.
You’re pulled away from your thoughts when a car alarm suddenly goes off. Its loud noise echoes within the empty mall. Everyone jumps at the unexpected sound, shuffling closer together. Deciding it’s worth the risk, you poke your head up to see what the hell is going on.
The guards are standing around a red convertible. It shakes, vibrates almost, and they look at one another in confusion. The car continues to shriek its alarm, and while the men stand in fear, you smile. There’s static in the air.
Looking up you see El, with an arm outstretched, on the second floor. Her face is strained, her fingers clench in mid air. The look on her face is terrifying, and you’ve never been happier to see blood drip down from her nose. She twists her arm and sends the car flying into the men. You duck as it crushes them, rolls over the tables and chairs in the center, before spiraling into the counter next to you. “Shit!”
The alarm stops ringing. Everything falls silent. Slowly, you and everyone else stand up to inspect the damage. A tire rim rolls past, the Russians guards are sprawled on the ground, unmoving. There’s smoke from where the car has landed, and you let out a low whistle. “Nice one, El.”
“El?” Dustin turns around, wondering if he’s heard you right.
“She’s up there,” you point to where she had been standing, but when you see Jonathan now standing next to her with Nancy, your heart stops. “Jonathan.”
You’re the first to start running, and when he sees that it’s you, Jonathan wastes no time running either. He’s down the escalator in seconds. Your whole body buzzes as you run, adrenaline and longing coursing through you. The moment he’s close enough, you practically leap into his arms.
“Bug,” he holds onto you tightly. He buries his face in your hair and you breathe him in. It’s a familiar scent, a familiar warmth. You had been so focused on escaping the Russian base that you hadn’t even considered that he and everyone else in the party could’ve been involved. “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay,” you tighten your arms around him, but when he makes a pained noise, you immediately pull away. It’s then that you notice the swelling in his head. The dried blood. Pressing your fingers softly to his face, you fill with concern. “What happened, are you hurt?”
Jonathan tries to shrug it off. He doesn’t care about what he’s been through. All he wants to focus on is that you’re okay, for once not covered in blood and bruises like he is. Wherever you’ve been these last few days, at least he knows you weren’t in any pain. “I’m fine, I’ll tell you everything later–”
“You flung that thing like a Hot Wheel!” Dustin exclaims to El, now joining you and Jonathan as the others gather around.
You don’t leave Jonathan’s side as everyone starts talking at once. Lucas asks why Erica is involved, to which you wince at. “I tried stopping them.”
“It’s their fault.” Erica points at Steve and Robin, clearing your name in the process, which you appreciate her for.
Steve stands next to you now and puts his hands on his hips. He doesn’t even try to deny that he’s the reason a ten year old girl ended up locked inside an underground Russian facility. “Yeah, true. Totally true. It’s absolutely our fault.”
Robin asks what happened to the car and Dustin and Steve explain El to her. They quickly catch her up to speed about the girl’s power, and you feel bad for the teen. It’s a lot of information to take in at once. Erica joins, having remembered her conversation with Dustin from earlier in the vents when he had explained the Upside Down to her.
Meanwhile, Nancy is focused on Robin. “I’m sorry, who are you?”
“That’s Robin. She’s a friend.” You step between them. When Nancy sees that it’s you, she quickly looks away. She fidgets with her fingers, overwhelmed with shame and regret. She hasn’t forgotten the cruelty she showed you a few days ago. You haven’t forgotten either, but you’ve never been one to hold anger towards others. Extending a kind smile, you nod at her. “Hey, Nance.”
Nancy looks up, surprised, but smiles at you as well and it’s enough. Maybe one day you’ll sort through the tension that never seems to leave you and the girl alone. Untangle the lines and threads that haunt both of you. For now, there are other things to worry about.
Steve has started explaining the Russians now, and quickly it becomes clear that you’ve all been dealing with vastly different situations.
“Russians, what Russians?” Jonathan asks you with alarm.
“See those guys laying over there?” Everyone looks at where you’re pointing, the men still knocked out on the ground. “Russians. We enjoyed twenty-four wonderful hours with them.”
“Yeah, we ended up trapped in their secret base underneath Hawkins.” Dustin further explains, to which everyone’s eyes widen at.
“It was fun. Spent my birthday in mortal danger.” At the same time the kids all wish you a belated birthday, which you salute them for. “Thanks, guys. I’m just happy I wasn’t gravely injured this time.”
“And that Steve finally kissed you.” Dustin unhelpfully adds before Steve is covering his mouth to shut him up. His face reddens, embarrassed and nervous. Jonathan is standing too close to him for comfort right now.
Nancy looks uncomfortable with this new information, Mike makes a disgusted sound, Max high fives you, Lucas cheers, Will gasps and looks nervously towards his brother, and Jonathan chokes on his own spit. It’s truly a very wide array of reactions, all of which are expected to certain extents.
That doesn’t stop you from hitting the back of Dustin’s head, though. “Can we focus on the Russians infiltrating Hawkins?” Dustin hits your shoulder in retaliation, but he knows you’re right. He turns to Mike, upset that he hadn’t come sooner. “Didn’t you get our code red?”
“Yeah, but I couldn’t understand half of what you were saying.”
The kids all start to argue and Steve joins in, making a remark about how he’s always bugging Dustin to watch for a low battery. More arguing follows. Lucas and the others demand to hear more about the Russians. As you try your best to explain everything, you notice from the corner of your eye El walking away from the group.
Her shoulders are drawn into her body, her breathing seems to be labored. You nudge Jonathan, pulling his attention away from the kids arguing, and point towards El. “What happened to her tonight?”
Jonathan is about to explain what they’ve been dealing with, but when El collapses onto the ground, you leave his side in a heartbeat to join her. Kneeling beside her, you’re cold with panic. She’s covered in sweat, her face is flushed. “El? Sweetheart, what’s happening?”
Mike and Jonathan are beside you now. Mike is in his own fit of panic, nearly ramming into you in his hurry to get to the girl. He turns her over onto her back, his face twisted with worry and fear. “El! What’s wrong?”
The rest of the group stands around El now, staring down at her. She manages to open her eyes, but you can tell that it pains her to do so. “My leg.” She rasps out, voice thick with tears.
“Her leg, okay.” Jonathan takes action, swiftly unraveling a bandage on her leg. You hadn’t noticed it before. There’s a deep wound underneath the gauze, its blood has soaked through it. Nancy helps Jonathan with the bandage, and when they finally get it off, you almost throw up at the sight.
The flesh is raised, angry and swollen. There’s a giant gash in El’s leg, deep and to the bone. The veins in her legs are dark and begin to constrict when something starts to move inside the wound; something is crawling inside her leg. It’s a nauseating sight.
Mike starts to freak out even more. He doesn’t understand what’s happening. He’s scared for the girl, his eyes fill with panic. Instinctively you pull him into your arms, tightening your hold as he fights against it.
That’s when El begins to scream.
-
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#steve harrington x henderson!reader#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#stranger things#steve harrington fanfic#stranger things rewrite#slowburn#angst#nya#m's writing#if u squint i made the second header image bigger than the first to fit everyone#the bathroom scene haunts me now#wrote it SO MANY TIMES#anyways enjoy
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UNSEEN SCENE AFTER MEETING C AND D
C was tugging D along by the sleeve so hard that it was a miracle the leather didn’t stretch. the brunette’s face was dead serious, a determined set to their jaw as they guided their gray-eyed best friend down a quieter path, away from the buzz of the activities fair.
when they’d put enough distance between them and the fair, D finally pulled free, grinning broadly.
“so… was that really the person you’ve been talking about for years now?” D asked as they leaned against a lamppost, eyes gleaming.
C crossed their arms, mouth pressed into a thin line as though the question alone was a bait they had no intention of taking.
IF YOU HAVE ❤️ POINTS WITH C
D’s mouth twisted into a more delighted smile. “oh my god. that’s really them, isn’t it? the one who you—oh, what was it?—‘had the distinct displeasure’ of competing with all these years? the person who’s been living rent-free in your head since, what, middle school?”
“will you keep your voice down?” C hissed, looking around in an agitated way, not meeting D’s eyes.
“you have got to be kidding me.” D snorted, hands on their hips. “this is almost too good to be true. years of all your whining about ‘i can’t believe they got the highest grade again’ or ‘oh, guess who is on the front-page of the school journal again’—and now you’re both attending the same university.”
C folded their arms tighter, the very picture of a person resisting all of this with every fiber of their being.
“i wouldn’t call it whining,” they said through clenched teeth. “it was merely an observation.”
“oh, sure, it is,” D said, sarcasm spilling from every word as they reached out, clapping C on the shoulder with a teasing gleam in their eyes. “come on, i’m not blind. you’ve been obsessed with them. practically haunted by their existence. and now, here they are. how do you really feel about it?”
“how do i feel?” C repeated, feigning casual indifference as they shrugged off D’s hand, forcing their voice to stay steady. “i feel fine. i feel… exactly the same as always. it’s not as if seeing them is anything special.”
“oh my god, you are so lying right now,” D snorted, leaning closer with a wide, delighted smile. “i mean, come on, admit it. a little crush? a tiny bit? i mean, you talked about them constantly for years.”
C’s cheeks flushed, and they bristled as they looked away. “it’s not a crush, not at all. no way in hell. it will never ever happen. besides, i’ve only mentioned them… in passing. a handful of times. you just have a selective memory.”
D’s laughter was warm, infectious, and wholly unapologetic.
“please, C,” they said, voice softening to an almost affectionate drawl. “you’ve got to stop kidding yourself. the only person who looks at someone the way you looked at them back there is either head over heels or in some kind of blood feud.”
C scoffed, rolling their eyes, though their stomach twisted uncomfortably at D’s words. “there’s nothing good about it. they’ve been a constant, unrelenting nuisance since day one. it’s exhausting.”
“a nuisance who happens to be drop-dead gorgeous?” D raised an eyebrow, grin wide and teasing. “i have to admit that you have excellent taste.”
“they’re… sure, i suppose they’re not terrible-looking,” C replied, voice sharp as they struggled to keep any hint of warmth out of their tone. “but that’s hardly the point. beauty isn’t— it’s not everything. there’s more to them than that.” they could feel D’s eyes on them, too perceptive, too knowing. “i respect them for their… intellect. it’s admirable.”
“their intellect is so admirable,” D said, voice and tone mocking C’s. “they’re so intellectually ‘stimulating,’ i simply can’t stand it.”
“D,” C snapped, but there was no true anger in their voice, just the sharpness of embarrassment and irritation.
D held up their hands, though the grin still danced on their lips.
“alright, alright. i’ll stop,” they said, though the teasing lilt never left their voice. “it’s just… i mean, come on. if i believed in fate…”
“please, don’t,” C muttered, barely concealing a groan. they glanced away, fixing their gaze on a nearby tree as if that might somehow ground them, stop the fluttering discomfort twisting in their chest.
D finally quieted, though a look of amusement still lingered in their eyes. after a moment, their expression softened. “look, i didn’t know that was them back there. otherwise, i wouldn’t have… tried to chat them up.”
“it’s none of my business,” C replied quickly, perhaps too quickly, the denial coming out sharper than they intended. “you can flirt with whoever you want, D. you are your own person, same goes for them.”
D’s gaze lingered on C for a moment, thoughtful, as though they could read the faint tremor that betrayed C’s supposed indifference.
“right. got it.” D’s voice was quiet, a hint of laughter still beneath it, but slightly gentler now.
C shifted under the weight of D’s stare, feeling strangely exposed, as if they’d somehow let a crack appear in the careful façade they’d maintained all these years.
“besides,” C added, trying to inject a note of finality into their tone. “it’s… it’s complicated. i don’t expect you to understand.”
D shrugged, a flicker of something like empathy crossing their face before they brushed it off. “hey, i get it. just didn’t realize they were the infamous rival of yours. honestly, it explains so much.”
C shot them a dubious look. “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“oh, nothing,” D replied innocently, but their eyes were still dancing with that infuriating glint. “i just think you should be more honest with yourself. might save you some of this broodfest, grumpster.”
“thanks for the unsolicited advice,” C retorted dryly, though they could feel the faint sting of truth in D’s words, a reminder of thoughts they’d long tried to ignore. “can we just… talk about something else?”
D gave a little shrug, letting the subject drop with a nod. “fine by me. though i will say, this is definitely the highlight of the semester so far.”
C rolled their eyes, but a faint smile tugged at the corner of their mouth despite themselves. “your standards are painfully low, D.”
“oh, absolutely,” D agreed with a grin, falling into step beside C. “but admit it, you’d miss me if i wasn’t around to torment you like this.”
C huffed, but their gaze softened, a hint of genuine affection flickering in their expression. “perhaps. only if it keeps you from tormenting everyone else.”
“oh, please. you know most of them are happy enough to let me ‘torment’ them.” D’s grin turned almost conspiratorial. “just make sure to invite me into any fistfights if this whole rivalry thing escalates.”
C chuckled, and the sound felt surprisingly light, easing some of the tension that had coiled in their chest. for a moment, the weight of their earlier encounter with you seemed to fade, replaced by the familiar comfort of their best friend’s easy humor.
as they walked back toward their dorm, their steps falling into an unspoken rhythm, C allowed themself a moment of quiet. they still felt the faint sting of embarrassment, the echo of D’s teasing words lingering like a half-formed thought in the back of their mind. but there was also an undeniable warmth, a strange, hesitant excitement that fluttered just beneath the surface.
they tried to push it away, to ignore the thrill of possibility that had sparked when they saw you across the fairground, but it lingered all the same. and as they walked in silence beside D, their gaze fixed ahead, they couldn’t quite shake the feeling that, whether they liked it or not, they would be forced to confront things they didn’t understand quite yet.
IF YOU HAVE ❤️ POINTS WITH D
C stiffened, their jaw clenching, barely nodding. “yeah. that’s them.”
D laughed, clapping a hand on their best friend’s shoulder.
“wow. okay, see, now i get it,” they said, shaking their head. “you were always complaining about how they were everywhere, stealing the spotlight. but, damn, if i’d known you weren’t exaggerating like crazy, i’d have pestered you for their contact ago.”
“yeah, like that was ever gonna happen,” C muttered with the irritation of someone who’d just had a private grudge revealed.
“oh, come on,” D continued, eyes still dancing with that insufferable amusement. they weren’t even pretending to hide their interest now. “did you see them? they’re hot! as in hot like a damn star, C. you can’t deny it. i almost melted right there and then. how did you never mention that part?”
C’s frown deepened, their discomfort sharp enough to cut through D’s lightheartedness. “i’m serious, D. if you’re thinking of trying anything with them, don’t.”
D couldn’t help but chuckle at C’s reaction, leaning back against the wall with an almost wistful expression. “you’re really no fun, you know that? think of the story we’d have—dating your enemy’s best friend… well, whatever else it might become.”
“we’re not exactly ‘enemies,’” C sighed out, observing D with a strange, inscrutable look. they seemed to be trying to read D’s intentions, as if searching for some hidden motive beneath the casual words. “i just don’t think it’s a good idea for you to get involved with them in any way.”
“you’re acting like i’m going to ask them out or something,” D said as they gave C a sidelong glance. their tone was flippant, but there was a defensive edge to it. “i’m not about to go falling head over heels. it’s just… fun.”
C gave them a skeptical look, trying to gauge just how serious they were. they knew D’s habits, their tendency to flirt and play around without letting feelings get involved, but something about this felt different. maybe it was the way they’d looked at you, that lingering fascination that seemed out of place for someone like D, who usually brushed things off before they even started.
“D,” C said quietly, almost as if they were choosing their words with care. “just… be careful, okay? i mean, you know what happened last time.”
D’s smile faded slightly, and their eyes took on a cold look.
“that was different,” they replied, a touch of anger in their voice now. “and anyway, i don’t need you looking out for me. i can make my own choices.”
C pursed their lips as they tried to think of how to say what was on their mind without making things worse. “i’m not trying to play parent here, D. i just don’t want you to do something you won’t be able to deal with later.”
D’s expression grew even more guarded, the usual playfulness in their eyes dimming to something harder, more closed-off.
“thanks for the concern, but I’m a big kid, C,” they said with a faintly strained smile. “you don’t need to worry about me.”
the air between them felt chilling and C wasn’t entirely sure how to fix it. they had only meant to protect their best friend, to stop them from getting tangled in something they knew was bound to end badly. but D’s response had left them with an uncomfortable knot in their chest, one that seemed to pulse with a mixture of worry and frustration.
they walked back to their shared dorm suite in silence, neither of them speaking as the quiet settled between them. C could feel D’s thoughts simmering, a subtle resentment that they weren’t quite sure how to ease. and for some reason, that feeling of helplessness only made C more irritated.
as they reached their suite, D barely registered C closing the main door behind them. they ignored their green-eyed friend’s soft, wary look, the way they almost seemed about to speak before they thought better of it. without another glance, D moved to their own room, shutting the door with a sharper click than they’d intended, leaning against the cool wood and breathing out slowly.
the familiarity of this old frustration settled in their chest, the same sensation they’d managed to bury over time and miles—until tonight. seeing C’s expression, their concern thinly veiled beneath their chalcedony gaze, had brought it all rushing back. and for one brief, shameful second, D found themself resenting their best friend for it. they hated them for thinking they needed to protect them. hated them for reminding them of the person who had taken so much from them, left behind an utterly mangled version of them, burned up everything so badly that D was barely recognisable in the aftermath.
they let out a soft, bitter laugh, sinking down onto the edge of the bed, fingers pressed to their temples. if only C knew how pointless their worry was. there was no wound left to guard, no vulnerability to shield. they’d lost that version of themself long ago, and no amount of protective warnings or shieldings from C would bring it back. because the truth was that there were pieces of themself they would never fully recover. pieces that had been taken and then, with brutal finality, lost entirely.
they were ruined. ruined.
a part of them knew C’s warning had come from that familiar place of concern. C really was family to them, even if they would never understand what they’d been through. D would never wish it on them, ever.
D really wasn’t interested in dredging up those old feelings, that kind of attachment. they’d been honest enough with themself, ruthless enough, to know that what they wanted now was simple and uncomplicated—just fun, just a distraction.
it was just physical attraction. that was all it had to be, and nothing more. it could be simple. no one would get hurt—not you, and definitely not D. they wouldn’t let it become more than a surface-level game. they’d played it before and they’d play it again, this time without letting you to come close enough to shatter them like they did.
D closed their eyes, forcing themself to refocus before their thoughts involuntarily took them to you. and it made them nauseous, that feeling, the warmth of it expanding in their chest, a reminder of something they couldn’t afford to want. D didn’t trust feelings of that sort, they never will.
cursing under their breath, D pushed off the bed and went straight to their desk. the sleek metal drawer on the side clicked open, revealing a row of small bottles, pills neatly aligned. the sight of them was a strange comfort, like they were seeing old friends lined up and whispering about the relief they’d be providing D with, waiting to make everything easier.
D reached for one of the vials, hands steady despite the storm churning inside them. it was an old trick, one they’d used more times than they could count. just a couple of pills to quiet their mind, to drown out the feelings that were starting to unravel the control they’d fought so hard to keep. they twisted off the cap, fingers almost mechanical in the familiarity of the motion, and tipped two pills into their palm. they swallowed them dry, the bitterness sliding down their throat as they sank onto the bed, waiting for that numbness to settle in.
they closed their eyes, willing the thoughts of you away, clinging to the silence that was beginning to spread, blotting out the warmth in their chest before it could turn into an inferno, the faint ache they’d hoped never to feel again.
after a lifetime of feeling too much, the numbness was desperately welcomed.
#ugh my drafts got deleted by tumblr all over again#i’ll probably rewrite this in an interactive POV setting#if: the ballad of the young gods#interactive fiction#interactive novel#interactive story#twine wip#ro: c lacroix#ro: d diaconu#ro scenarios#behind the scenes
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They missed an opportunity with this scene and I’m still mad about it.
Can we all agree that it’s a crime against magic man that he didn’t get to call Arthur an ass in this episode?
Merlin: Arthur’s a donkey?
Gwen: He has the ears of a donkey. And the voice. … he’s braying.
Merlin: He’s braying? Wow…
Merlin: So what you’re saying is… he’s an ass?
Gwen: …
Merlin: … *laughs*
Gwen: *trying not to laugh* It’s not funny, Merlin.
Merlin: No. No, of course not. Arthur with the ears of a donkey, what’s funny about that? *Laughs*
Gwen: He just looked so pitiful. I’ve never seen Arthur look like that.
Merlin: At least they match his brain now.
Gwen: *failing not to laugh* Merlin!
Then the episode carries on but with the validation for episode 1 Merlin that Arthur really is, in a very literal sense at least, a royal ass.
It’s a crime that they missed it and I’m going to be mad about it forever.
#bbc merlin#merlin#merlin emrys#arthur pendragon#guinevere#merlin and gwen#i’m bad at tagging#i don’t know how to tag this#merlin bbc#incorrect merlin quotes#headcanon#fix it#platonic mergwen#chaos besties#arwen#merthur#whichever you prefer#scene rewrite#i need sleep
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Underneath the hum of the RV, Steve asks Eddie for directions to The War Zone.
Steve does not need directions. Eddie knows this, because when he’d shown it on the map, drumming his fingers restlessly, Steve had leant over his shoulder and muttered, “Got it,” with such confidence, like he’d committed it to memory within seconds.
Eddie slides into the passenger seat anyway.
“Isn’t this kinda… stupid?” he says hesitantly, gesturing to himself and the front window. Sure, the roads are quiet now, but…
“Don’t worry, I’ll push you off if anyone gets too close,” Steve says with mock gravity.
It makes Eddie laugh. “Thanks, very gallant of you.”
He still hasn’t given a single direction.
“You’re not, by the way,” Steve says casually, as he makes another turn.
“Uh, not what?”
“Living up to a name.”
Eddie looks away. “That was a joke.”
“Right.”
“It was.”
“I know,” Steve says quietly. “Just…” He shrugs with one shoulder. “Just so you know.”
“I do,” Eddie says, clipped. Bites his tongue—hates that he gets like this whenever…
“Okay,” Steve says, still so patient; Eddie can’t understand it. “You’re not really living up to the whole freak thing either.”
Something in Eddie’s stomach relaxes: this, at least, is slightly safer territory.
“Sorry to disappoint, Steve.”
“Yeah.” Steve heaves a huge sigh like it’s an actual problem. He’s smiling through it. “Hate to break it to you, but you’re painfully normal.”
Eddie scoffs. “S’not what others would say.”
“Fuck them,” Steve says cheerfully.
Eddie doesn’t know what to say to that. Just sits in silence as they get closer and closer to The War Zone. Feels inadequate.
He wants to say something, at least—wants to speak through the nerves that keep surging back, wants to stumble through an apology, look, I’m sorry I’m such a mess when you’re so—
“Hey,” Steve says like it’s an ordinary day, like he’s asking to borrow a pencil in class. “Wanna talk when we’re not, like, terrified out of our minds?”
But you’re, Eddie starts to think.
Then he sees Steve’s hands on the wheel, gripping tight. Recalls the sharpness in his eyes as he read the map. How he said, “Got it,” like a vow.
“Please?” Eddie says. Can’t stop the word from going up in question, you can take it back, I won’t—
Steve nods.
They’re swinging into the parking lot, and instead of him pushing Eddie off the seat, it’s more of a gentle nudge.
Eddie hides round the back of the driver’s seat, one knee to his chest.
Steve catches his eye halfway out the door. He winks. “Great navigating.”
And as Eddie waits for his return, he thinks about it. All of it. Middle school and everything that came before; dropping his plate in the cafeteria and feeling all those eyes on him, the anxiety suffocating, that they could read it on his face somehow, yeah his dad’s in jail, kid’s a mess…
Maybe Eddie will tell Steve Harrington everything.
#have a tiny little RV scene rewrite#pre steddie#steddie ficlet#steddie fic#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve x eddie
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She had it. She actually had it, in her hands.
Myriad. The ultimate weapon of a dying race, brought to Earth to subjugate its people and rebuild an empire from a shattered world, possibly the key to saving this one. The key Lena needed to unlock Non Nocere and
(take over)
heal the world. End all strife. Eradicate all conflict. No more pain. No more deceit. No more greed, or cruelty, a world without malice, a peace without end.
No more lies.
It was in her hands, such a small petty little thing, barely more than a trinket.
Lena dropped it too sharply on the stainless steel lab table, took three steps, and vomited, the contents of her stomach noisily splashing at her feet. It was the effects of portal travel, she told herself- like jumping from a great height and into cold water at the same time.
(oh god what did I do)
She just needed a few moments to steady herself, collect her bearings, clean up.
(oh god oh god I hurt her what have I done)
Then, she could begin her work immediately. She shrugged out of her coat and found a bottle of vodka, hardly her weapon of choice, and took a pull straight from it to wash the
(pain away)
sour taste of her own puke out of her mouth and dull the sour churning in her stomach, because she couldn’t get the image out of her head, the image of Kara lying broken on the fortress floor with green lines of agony carved in her flawless skin and the most heartbroken look of remorse and fear in her eyes.
(Lena don’t do this)
(please don’t do this I’m SORRY)
Snatching the Myriad core from the lab table, she went to shove it into place. The final work would take only a few hours and then…
Lena stopped. Her hand hovered inches above her work. All she had to do was make the connection, but something was stopping her, as if her own arm revelled against her. She tasted puke and alcohol in her mouth and she was crying, hot tears burning down her cheeks in razor lines.
(Lena please)
No more lies.
It was heavy in her hand, the alien device suspiciously heavy and cool to her touch. Why didn’t she just do it? She was here, key in hand, ready to open the door and she couldn’t do it. Why?
Gritting her teeth, Lena took it in both hands, staring at it.
This was good. This was right. Lena had given Kara everything. Everything! Her friendship, her support, her comfort, her secret council. She killed her own brother for her and what did she get in return? Lies! Deception!
(soft hugs and kind words and powerful arms shielding her from harm and strong hands… holding her)
It had all meant nothing. It was all a lie.
Right?
It was, wasn’t it? It was! It had to be, she needed it to be! If it wasn’t, if she was wrong, then she betrayed and tortured the only person who cared about her for what? For this fucking thing?
Lena held Myriad over her head. She hadn’t even been aware she’d raised it high, ready to smash it to the ground. Bringing it down, she stared at the device and saw a stranger’s face, a distorted visage of a pale, stress-thinned woman with red-rimmed eyes.
Oh God.
The watch! There was still time. It still had the coordinates.
Lena’s hand hovered over the watch. She could push the button and erase the only way she’d ever reach the fortress again, and it would be decided. She’d make it permanent, make it real. She could finalize the destruction of the most important relationship she’d ever had. Deny Kara. Give her up.
(leave her locked in a cage of agony)
Lena pressed the button.
The portal opened behind her with a gust of wind.
She stepped through.
The first thing that hit her was the cold. She didn’t think to put her coat back on.
The second thing was a right hook from Alex Danvers that sent Lena sprawling across the floor and Myriad spinning out of her grip.
“You bitch,” Alex snarled. “I knew it. I fucking knew it. I should have put a bullet in the back of your head the first time you set foot in my town.”
Alex stood over her, boiling with fury.
“I knew it was all a lie. I knew! I know what you did. You and your little lip bites and your flirty looks and your coffee dates. Was breaking my little sister’s heart part of the plan or just a sadistic bonus?”
For once in her life, Lena was truly speechless. She stared up at her attacker, absently touching the trickle of blood from her split lip.
“I didn’t, I wouldn’t,”
“You fucking did,” Alex hissed. “How dare you come back here? Didn’t you steal enough? Was the rest of the armory too much temptation for you?”
“I couldn’t leave her,” Lena choked out.
“Alex,” a harsh voice rasped, “that’s enough.”
Kara was on her feet, clutching her side. The Kryptonite had left her pale and pallid and hunched over a little, her normally bright eyes dull.
Lena pushed herself to her feet, wobbled, and started for Kara.
“Don’t you dare,” Alex stepped between them.
“I said that’s enough,” said Kara, pushing past her.
“I’m sorry,” Lena blurted. “Oh God, I’m sorry, Kara I…”
“Shhh,” Kara whispered. “It’s okay.”
Lena’s hands seemed to move on their own, palms cupping Kara’s cheeks. God, she was cold. She was shivering. Kara was shivering. She leaned into Lena’s grasp, falling against her.
“I’m sorry,” Lena whimpered.
“It’s okay,” Kara said, gathering Lena in her arms.
“The hell it is,” Alex cut in. “Jesus Christ, she robbed the Fortress of Solitude! She hurt you, Kara!”
“I hurt her first.”
“Kara, she’s right.”
Kara shook her head.
“You can’t just forgive her!” Alex almost screamed.
Kara looked at Alex, then at Lena.
“You’re forgetting. I’m Supergirl. I can do anything.”
The tears began to flow and Lena couldn’t stop them. She collapsed into Kara’s arms and sobbed, her body shaking with exertion.
Alex bent down and picked up Myriad.
“Give me that,” said Kara.
Alex looked at her quizzically, and placed the device in Kara’s hand.
She looked at it for a moment, then looked down at Lena.
“Do it,” Lena whispered.
Without the slightest appearance of effort, Kara closed her hand and the device exploded between her fingers, circuits and alien technology clattering to the floor.
“Let’s go home,” said Kara. “I think we need to talk.”
#supercorp#supergirl fanfiction#supergirl#supercorp fanfic#lena luthor#kara danvers#kara x lena#karlena#supergirl fanfic#ficlet#fortress scene rewrite#Lena has a good heart#she just wants everyone to be ok#Lena wouldn’t just leave her girl like that#Alex is sick of Lena’s bullshit#big sister Alex#sad lena luthor#sad kara danvers#angst#forgiving Kara#Kara will always forgive her#hate is not the opposite of love#Lena secretly just wants someone to prove they love her#catholic guilt probably#they’re so extra
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THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY Season 4 Episode 2, Jean and Gene
#the umbrella academy#umbrella academy#tuaedit#umbrellaacademyedit#diego hargreeves#diego hargreevesedit#lila pitts#lilapittsedit#diego x lila#dailyflicks#dailynetflix#userbbelcher#cinemapix#tusermyra#tusercj#tusermich#userzaynab#userpolaris#tuserlana#*gifs#tua spoilers#bickering old married couple!!!#rewriting this scene in my head that they then made out after this bc of how cool that was
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#nico hischier#new jersey devils#nh13#the stadium series was the last time it was scene and i mourn every day#seen*#i am not rewriting all that
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I don't normally share active wips, but since I mentioned in a previous post how Lost Oasis has a scene similar to one I had written in a wip I've been working on, I've decided to share it. I may scrap it or I may rework it to align more with the canon material.
This wip is basically an intimate (emotional and sexual) Sylus/Reader sexy domestic slice of life fluff, because I have needs. Really bad needs. 🥺👉👈
The scent of your peach body wash had become more familiar each night, the sweet fragrance clung to Sylus’ body after every shower when he would climb into bed with you. Your hands traversed his bare torso, gliding over smooth skin as you furrowed your brows. “Like what you see?” he teased, but when you didn’t react, Sylus reached out, lifting your chin to meet his concerned gaze. “What’s wrong?” “You don’t have any scars,” you murmured, your hands still skimming over his body in examination. “You sound disappointed,” Sylus quipped with a deep chuckle, but he paused almost immediately when you looked up, staring at him with a worried expression. He was quiet briefly before speaking more seriously, “A benefit of my Evol, if you will.” “Then…how many times have you been injured?” “Does it matter?” he looked at you with a gentle smile, reaching out to tuck strands of your hair behind your ear. You appreciated the affectionate gesture, but it didn’t mask the fact that he was pointedly ignoring your question. You nodded firmly, refusing to let this conversation end. Sylus looked conflicted. “It’s a good thing you can’t see any scars,” he insisted. You touched his bicep. “Were you injured here?” He sighed, and nodded. “Yes.” You looked frantically around his body before your hand randomly touched his right shoulder. “Here?” “Yes.” Your mind continued to race with increasing anxious thoughts. You touched his thigh. Sylus nodded. You reached up and touched his chest, your hand near his heart. You paused, your face paling, already knowing the answer to this one. It had all happened so quickly, and even now you could still feel your finger pulling that trigger. Sylus grabbed your wrist, pulling away. “Don’t think about it,” he said firmly, “I did it.” “But…” His hands held your face, pulling you to him, capturing your lips to swallow your words. You felt like you were choking, his kisses suffocating you as your mind was in turmoil from both the guilt of what you did and the painful knowledge of never knowing how often he was injured or how severe they were. Sylus broke the kiss when he felt you sobbing against him. He looked at you with concern, not understanding what had led the two of you to this point. Instinctively, he pulled you into his lap, surprised when you lay against him almost instantly, your arms wrapped around his body, cheek pressed against his chest. He could feel the trembles in your body, knowing you were barely keeping your emotions in check. “I’m not hurt,” he said, fingers already threading through your hair as comfort. “I know,” you whispered back, tightening your hold around him. You could barely keep your voice steady, afraid that just one wrong word could break this dam and unleash all of the tears you were holding back. “But,” he started, peering down at the top of your head, “this is nice.” You looked up curiously, meeting his soft crimson gaze. He leaned down, his warm breath ghosted over your lips, making you shiver even more in his embrace. “Having you worried about me,” he said, elaborating further, “Caring about me.” Sylus drew your lips to his again, this time gentler, more tender. You responded, hearing a pleased hum from him as his hands moved down your body. “Sylus—” He guided your hands back to his body. “I just hate to see you cry over me, sweetheart.” You blinked back your tears. [INSERT EMOTIONAL COMFORT SEX SCENE I HAVEN’T WRITTEN YET LMAO]
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace sylus#love and deepspace x reader#sylus x reader#x — fanfics ⋆ wips#ok my jaw literally dropped when i read lost oasis#not because sylus was practically naked#because let's face it that's just on brand behavior of him now lol#but i was like#am i reading my fic????#we're actually getting the soft emotional sylus/mc i desperately crave???#🥺#anyway#i'll just rewrite this scene to make it canon compliant#because i still like it#and i just realized it leads into two follow-up scenes#and i don't want to get rid of those scenes#because they're heckin' cute istg#/end yapping
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i'm using these rewrites as practice for background art even though i'm literally just tracing with a ruler and then doodling over that. anyway i've fallen back into semi-realism
#if you have suggestions for other scenes for me to rewrite you could send em my way :D even an anon I won't judge you#i need ore backgrounds to draw#community#community nbc#nbc community#doodle#jeff winger#rich stephenson#lawyer md
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hey chapter 15, why are you at 10,000 words when i've only written the first scene? hey chapter 15??? hello??
#i straight up had to rewrite half of the first scene cause words were not wording correctly#i feel insane#this SHOULD be halfway#but it isn't#so chapter 15 is gonna be a FAT chapter apparently!!!
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How You Turn My Word; Chapter 2
The day continues, and this time you find yourself in an entire new world... a world called The Underground.
Character; Lilia Vanrouge
Content; Gender-neutral reader, more shenanigans, reader isn't happy
Content Warning; Intoxication (Lilia), swearing
Word Count; 2.7 K
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |
Don't put my work into AI; I'll make sure you end up in the Bog of Eternal Stench.
Lilia’s night was not going according to plan and he was mentally cursing himself over it.
Thing Lilia did not plan for #1; he got lost. To be fair though, many a thing had drastically changed since the last time he romped around the mortal realm. A few hundred years would do that though. Humans now seemed to live in tall metal boxes rather than the humble cottages of ages past.
Thing Lilia did not plan for #2; a red flower deceiving him and containing something akin to liquor. So he was flying around lost while under the influence, which only worsened his situation. (Lilia did not know it, but the red flower was in fact a hummingbird feeder with sugar water which had been left out in the sun for too long and had fermented. Make sure to change your hummingbird feeder often on hot days so you don’t cause a nectar-loving friend to fly while wasted)
Thing Lilia did not plan for #3; getting himself stuff in one of those tall metal boxes, and he was now stuck inside some cursed metal labyrinth. At least it was not iron or silver, as it did not burn, apparently, humans no longer fortified their abodes with those metals. Perhaps the times have changed for the better?
But Lilia finally escaped the infernal metal labyrinth, perhaps luck was finally on his side tonight after all! He bumped around a few corners. My my, what a small hovel. Perhaps things have not changed all that much from the last time I was here… But Lilia was rudely pulled from his thoughts when something swatted him clean out of the air. And the culprit? A rather rotund grey cat with large blue eyes, which was now carrying Lilia into its lair, most likely to play with him for a bit before deciding that it had had it’s fun and ultimately put him out of his misery.
His night went from a jolly and somewhat embarrassing tale he would regale about at the local tavern, to a bedtime story parents would tell their children about the dangers of going places that you really shouldn’t. Should he get out of this sticky situation Lilia would not live this incident down.
The cat placed Lilia in a collection of socks and then sauntered off, calling out at the top of its lungs. Great, it's getting company for supper, and I’m the appetizer. How lovely. But Lilia knew he would have a better chance of getting out of this situation if he stayed calm and waited for an opportunity to escape. Even while tipsy, he could keep his cool.
And the feline was back and yanked Lilia out of the sock hole. Cracking open his one eye he saw that the cat did not come back with its hungry friends, but rather, a human. That was both good news and bad news. Good news; he most likely was not going to be eaten tonight! Yippee! Bad news; the last time he was in bat-form in a human’s abode, he was chased around with a torch, which he really did not want to go through again. So his best course of action was to play dead in this situation.
When the human left the room though, he took his chance and took flight once again, trying to find a way out. The cat was trying to catch him again, but Lilia knew of its tricks this time and dodged every swipe it sent his way.
But he was pulled out of his thoughts when the human screeched at the cat, “YOU CAUGHT A FUCKING BAT?!”
Oh yeah, they did not sound happy, not at all, but it seemed to be directed more at their feline companion rather than him.
As he was busy flapping around, trying to find an escape but to no avail, he also heard the human whispering to him. “Don’t fly towards my head, bat. I’m just trying to get you back outside. You’re a nice bat, right? Nice bat, nice bat.”
Were he not preoccupied and in a better state of mind, Lilia would have been amused by this. Currently, though he was occupied with trying not to be eaten and finding a way out of this cursed place. He was not in a laughing mood. All Lilia wanted to do was get back home, pass out in his bed but he would also be happy with his sofa as well, and pretend that this was nothing more than a bad dream after a night spent tavern hopping. Dealing with a horrid hangover would be better than this… and he was most likely going to have one of those anyways. Tonight really wasn’t Lilia’s night, not at all.
Then the human grabbed the cat, and Lilia was finally left alone. The window was open, but he didn’t know that, as his mind was too preoccupied with you know, not dying, that he hadn’t noticed that the human had opened it for him. So where did Lilia go? Well, he went back into the metal labyrinth (air duct), and fumbled around until he tired himself out. It wasn’t the most ideal of spots to crash for the night, but it was better than going back and possibly being eaten, Lilia would rather avoid that. So this was going to be his bed for the night, a lonely quiet corner of the air duct system, where he could hopefully wake up sober tomorrow. But he yearned for his warm quilts that awaited for him back at home, back in Faerie, or as some call it, the Underground.
Lilia wasn’t even supposed to be in the mortal realm in the first place, but curiosity had won him over, and he even ignored the travel advisory that was in place. Some crow fae had travelled there about a century or so ago and had yet to return back, hence a travel advisory. But yet here he was in the mortal realm, tiny, drunk, and utterly lost. His bad decisions could be looked into further detail once he got some shut-eye. So he wrapped himself in his wings and passed out in the corner of the air vent. Hopefully, when he woke up he could turn this disastrous day around.
…
Upon waking up, Lilia groaned — or rather, in this case, squeaked — and stretched his wings out. So the wretched metal maze and last night's fiasco was not some liquor-hazed dream; how lovely. Utterly delightful.
At least the strange maze echoed sound quite well, so he knew what exits to avoid. Not that one, he could hear a dog barking, and the feline encounter was enough for him. No, not that one either, he could hear children screaming.
Finally, he came to an opening, there was some quiet chatter, but it was far enough away where Lilia felt comfortable enough to explore this potential escape route.
Why does this look familiar? AM I BACK IN THE BUILDING?! Yes, yes he was. At least there was no sign of the ca–
“Mrp?” Speak of the devil.
The cat got out of its den and lept at Lilia, who dodged the attack, and the cat pushed some books off a desk. The cat was also screaming at him, and causing an all-around ruckus. Lilia managed to outmaneuver the feline, but soon a brand new human came into the scene.
The new human took one look at Lilia and backpedalled out of the room. But the human had just created another escape route for him, and Lilia flew, well, like a bat straight out of hell for it. Too bad the next room contained two more humans, including the one he had encountered from last night… maybe they would be nice again and spare him for trespassing on their small abode?
In the midst of the chaos, the human from last night knocked him out of the air with a broom. Okay, that hurt little Beastie. But that swing and the crash landing into a table caused Lilia to shift back into his human form, which also caused sparkles to happen. Did humans still think magic was evil? Well, he was about to find out.
Everyone remained silent, and after the sheer noise of the chaos, it was deafening, even the cat was quiet. And Lilia stared at the human that had knocked him out of the air, you. And you were staring straight back at him, looking utterly baffled. Well, this is awkward… I think I have overstayed my welcome…
Lilia snapped his fingers, and he started to disappear into sparkles yet again, this time going home since he wasn’t able to use his magic when stuck in bat form. And it was happening without a pinch, but you seemed to trip on thin air and crash landed on his feet, disappearing with him; a stowaway coming to Faerie.
… Well this is no good now, is it?
…
…
…
When the green sparkles subsided, you found yourself sitting in some sort of bog, and the water had made it into your mouth by some twist of fate. While you were busy spitting the bog water out of your mouth, the stranger was standing by the bank, dry, without any sulfuric-tasting water in his mouth, and looking better for wear.
Pulling yourself out of the bog water — eugh, you smelled like eggs now, great — you pointed an accusatory finger at him, water dripping from the end. “Where,” you spat out some extra bog water from your mouth, “am I? And why does it reak of eggs?!” You would have looked and sounded more imposing, but you were sopping wet, covered in mud, and spitting out coughs trying to get the bad taste out of your mouth; which wasn’t really commanding any sort of respect.
The stranger, Lilia, snorted before letting out a cough, trying to hide his amusement very poorly. He waved his hand, green sparkles surrounded you and you were now dry, still covered in mud, but dry. “Faerie, although some call it the Underground.”
You opened your mouth, but he wagged his finger at you. “And before you blame me for bringing you here, you have no one to blame for this but yourself!” Despite the cheeriness, there was something cold and off putting in his eyes, like he was calculating something. But that moment passed, and the almost annoying cheerful facade came back in full. “As for the smell? That so happens to be The Bog of Eternal Stench!”
“Like eternal eternal?” You really didn’t need to smell like rotten eggs for the rest of your days.
The stranger just chuckled, “Fret not, Beastie, I decided to return the favour, since your feline friend decided not to eat me. But it is indeed ‘eternal eternal’ if you don’t have the means to get rid of it.”
Beastie? “Uh, okay.” not the most eloquent of things to say, but really, could anyone blame you? You just fell through some kind of portal, magic(?) was real, and oh yeah, so were fae/faeries or whatever the hell they called themselves. So ‘Uh, okay’ was perfectly fine in this situation.
Mr. Sparkles — if he was going to call you Beastie, he deserved a dumb nickname — just gave you a smile, exposing the barest hint of his fangs; despite his small frame, he was still dangerous, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. It was as if he was assessing you, to see if you would be worth the trouble to help. You didn’t know if either option would be good by the way his magenta eyes twinkled with mischief.
He let out a huff and started walking away, and you followed. “I wouldn’t recommend following me, Beastie,” he hummed, and you tripped over a rock, vines keeping you to the moss. “The court would not take kindly to you.”
You glared at him and tried ripping the vines off of your feet, but they didn’t budge. “And why should I listen to you?”
Mr. Sparkles booped you on the nose, “Well, it would ensure that you made it out of here alive, which I believe you would find beneficial and all.”
Obnoxious prick. But he did have a point, you would rather make it back home alive rather than fucking around and finding out (aka dying). “So what? Are you going to just leave me here? No welcome brochure? Thanks.”
You were being sarcastic, since it was either sarcasm or having a full-on existential crisis, since hey, magic wasn’t real in your world! Dimension? Galaxy? Where the fuck was this place?! How the hell did you end up here?!
“Hmm good point…” he snapped his fingers and there was now a book sitting in your lap. “This should suffice, do be warned though, Beastie, I may call on you later to return the favour. For now though,” he started to turn into green sparkles, “toodaloo!~” And he turned into a bat, flying off into the sunset, leaving you alone at the edge of the swamp with the only things to your name being the clothes on your back and a book in your lap.
How to Survive the Underground; For Humans! … Did he just give you this world’s equivalent of a For Dummies book? What the fuck? Was this kind of sick joke to him?
…
…
Once some of your ire had subsided, you decided to sit down on a boulder and read a bit of the book while there was still some sunlight out, but it was dipping into the horizon fast.
How to Survive the Underground; For Humans! By Yelworc Erid Preface …… i - iv Chapter 1; Surviving Your First Night…… 1 - 10 Chapter 2; Edible Food for Humans …… 11 - 31 Chapter 3; The Basics of Fae Etiquette …… 32 - 35 3.1; Species Specifics …… 36 - 146 3.2; Government Specifics …… 147 - 169 Chapter 4; Help! I Have Been Indentured to a Fae! …… 170 - 200 Chapter 5; Adjusting to Fae Social Life …… 201 - 224 Chapter 6; Transmittable Illnesses & Diseases …… 225 - 261 Chapter 7; Fae Courting Practices …… 262 - 264 7.1; Species Specifications …… 265 - 366 7.2; Government Specifications …… 367 - 389 7.3; Accepting a Courting Proposal …… 390 - 393 7.4; Refusing a Courting Proposal …… 394 - 401 Chapter 8; How to Handle Fae Children …… 402 - 452 Chapter 9; How to Leave the Underground … 453 Chapter 10; Adjusting to Life in the Underground …… 454 - 482 Acknowledgments …… 483 - 485
Looking back up to the horizon, you quickly turned the pages to Chapter 1; Surviving Your First Night.
“If you are unable to find yourself some suitable shelter, one should find themselves safe by camping out in a rowan tree. These trees can easily be found by their vermillion clusters of berries. They keep away all native species of the Underground,” you read out loud, turning your attention to the trees nearby, searching for those berries. “Rowan tree, rowan tree–”
A loud screech coming from the undergrowth only pushed you further.
Nope, I do not want to find out what THAT was! Nope! NoPe! NOPE!
Finally, you found a tall enough tree and you hauled your ass up it like there was a fire below you, and you were up in the canopy, far enough up that nothing could reach you, but also high enough where you needed to be careful, since you didn’t want to meet an early death because you made a wrong move. But for now, you were safe.
“Nice try buddy,” you muttered to yourself, trying to get comfy. Wood wasn’t the comfiest thing in the world, but you weren’t really in the position to be complaining. “I am not on the menu.”
The screech came again, this time closer; yeah, you weren’t sleeping tonight. The sun was now beyond the horizon, and there was no moon, the only light coming from the stars above; it was very pretty, but you could see jack shit. This was going to be a long night… and not a fun one, since you could also see the glowing eyes of unknown creatures which were, quite frankly, freaky as fuck. So yeah, no sleep for you.
“This fucking sucks,” you grumbled, and a chittering from the bog seemed to mock you. “This really fucking sucks.”
…
…
…
…
Tags; @busycloudy, @eynnwwyjth, @identity-theft-101, @ithseem, @krenenbaker, @lucid-stories, @ryker-writes, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii
~~~~~~~
Author's Note; This chapter is shorter, but it felt natural to end the chapter like this. This chapter, and the previous one, were both rewrites of an old WIP, so from here on out I don't have to rewrite! YIPPEE!!! Rewriting takes me forever, so we shall see what I come up with next.
If you liked this, do check out my masterlist for more content!
#twst#twst x reader#twst x gn reader#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland x gn reader#lilia vanrouge#lilia vanrouge x reader#lilia vanrouge x gn reader#still building up that aspect; yeah it's gonna be a while but that allows for some yearning#got another labyrinth mention in there#i decided to be nice to reader where they don't end up smelling like rotten eggs for their entire stay in the underground;#; it would be funny but reader has been through enough without needing to smell bad on top of that#twst labyrinth au#gilf enjoyers rejoice#why does rewriting take me so damn long? i even deleted scenes that i didn't feel like keeping#writing is pain and suffering yet it brings me immense joy... not gonna elaborate on that#not a bunch of fun stuff hidden in the tags this time but oh well
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episode four: will the wise
“What do you want, Hargrove?” Steve asks, situating himself so that more of his body is in between you and Billy. He sucks his teeth and then lets out a cold chuckle. “Nothin’, just didn’t know that this little sweetheart had it in her.” “Don’t call her that–” “I mean, her boyfriend runs off with your girlfriend?” Billy chuckles again. “I’m surprised Y/N Henderson ran into your arms, Harrington.”
summary: jonathan is gone for one day and suddenly all hell breaks loose, your hesitant friendship with steve is already rocky (thanks billy) but steve is hot when he's angry tbh, you become a couple's counselor to lucas and max (sorry dustin), and you're now officially the world's worst cat owner ever. and babysitter. but what else is new ?
Rating: general, swearing
Warnings: use of y/n, fem!reader, mentions of blood and scars and knives
Words: 5.7k
Before you swing in: hello ! happy friday, heres chapter 4 :) before i say more, i wanted to inform yall that i started doing blurbs for come home if youre interested in seeing more lil scenes between everyone. they can be found here x. anyways, i absolutely cannot believe we're already halfway through the season (im skipping episode seven obviously, since its just an entire el ep). this chapter we see a liiiil more of readers dynamics with the kids, so im super happy about that. next chapter we finally get steve, dustin, and reader so !!! hella excited about that. for now, pls enjoy <3
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Mike and Lucas split up and go outside while you, Dustin, and Max start running through the halls, shouting Will’s name.
“Will!” You’re more pleading rather than shouting. It’s happening again. It’s fucking happening again. Your mind is running a million miles a second, you feel the cold hand of fear twist around your throat. The last time you felt fear like this was when you showed up at Jonathan’s house and collapsed in his arms right after finding out Will had gone missing.
And now he’s gone again, but Jonathan isn’t here this time to keep you steady.
Dustin cups both hands over his mouth. “Will!”
You all turn a corner but Will isn’t there. Nothing.
“Dustin!” Joyce rounds the corner, alarmed. “What’s going on? Where’s Will?”
The woman is moreso asking you than the kids, but you can only shake your head at her helplessly. “I don’t know, Mrs. Byers.”
Joyce holds your gaze and you feel so ashamed of yourself. You’ve let her down again. She’s always been so trusting of you with her children, and here you are, once again a fucking wreck trying to find the son you’ve lost.
Down the hall, a door flings open. “The field!”
The four of you turn and find Lucas standing there, panting and out of breath. He motions for you all to follow and in a heartbeat you begin to run outside after him.
There, you find Mike in the field with Will standing next to him, and for a second you feel relief wash over you. He’s okay, he’s safe and isn’t in another dimension. But as you get closer, you notice the stiffness in Will and the way Mike is shaking his shoulder.
Something isn’t right.
“I just found him like this!” Mike is shouting. “I think he’s having another episode!”
This would make two in two days.
When you reach Will, you finally grasp how dire the situation is. He looks horrible, his eyes have rolled into the back of his head and are spasming. His body shakes, his fingers twitch by his side and the veins in his neck strain.
Joyce quickly grabs him and starts shaking his shoulders, pleading with him. “Will, sweetie, wake up! It’s mom!”
You cover a hand over your mouth as you watch, horrified. Dustin and Lucas stand next to you, each clutching your shirt in fear. Their fear grounds you, making you focus back on them and pull them closer to you. You try to give them as much reassurance as you possibly can, but you know it’s useless. All you guys can do is wait for the episode to end.
Max stands across from you, watching the situation unfold with her own uncertainty. She doesn't understand what any of this means. Why this is happening to Will, and why you’re close to tears as Joyce pleads with her son to come back to her.
The fear on her face is why you agree to Mike to not let Max into the party. They’re all so fucking young. Too young for any of this.
“Will, can you hear me?” Joyce pats Will’s face and you pull the boys even closer to you. Mike refuses to leave Will’s side.
“He’ll be okay,” you whisper to the kids, but you’re selfishly trying to comfort yourself.
Tears form in Mike’s eyes and you just want it all to stop. Will isn’t waking up and Dustin is shaking against you and Joyce’s pleas have become more like begs and it’s all too much.
Then, Will’s eyes snap open and he takes a sharp breath that hurts your own chest to hear.
You release the breath you’d been holding. The worst of it is over.
Will looks around shyly, as if he already knows it’s happened again. Joyce exhales and kisses his cheek and wraps him in her arms. Mike and the others look around, uncertain but relieved, while Max stands off to the side.
You wish you could explain it all to her, but it wouldn’t be right.
Slowly, once Will has recovered, you and the kids walk with Joyce back to their car. Dustin’s hand hasn’t left yours and you secretly wouldn’t let him go anyways if he tried.
“Have the episodes always been like this?” You ask your brother, now remembering that he had to witness that alone on Halloween night.
“Yeah,” Dustin responds, his voice small.
You squeeze his hand and follow after Joyce. In your head, you’re creating a list of all the baked goods you can make with the ingredients you know you have in your kitchen. They all deserve some oatmeal raisin cookies after this.
When you get to the car, you break away from the kids and step in front of Will. He’s pale, paler than he’s been in a while, and it’s only now that you see the bags underneath his eyes. He’s gotten worse, how could you have missed that?
You should’ve seen the signs sooner.
“Did I scare you?” Will asks, and you immediately grab his hand.
“No, never. You just… gave me a reminder that I love you. Go get some rest, little bee.” You kiss his cheek goodbye and he quietly gets in the car.
Joyce is behind you, and once Will is safely in the car you turn to face the woman. “Call me if anything else happens, please?”
She nods at you, already understanding why you need the reassurance. There’s a warmth in her eyes, even if every other part of her seems exhausted. “I will.”
“I know I’m not a scientist, or–or a licensed therapist but I just–”
“Sweetie, I understand. Apart from Hopper, you’ve done more research and reading than anyone else. If Will gets worse, I’ll call.”
You smile at the woman appreciatively. “Thank you.”
She squeezes your shoulders and then gets in the car, driving off. You stand there for a moment, needing a second to compose yourself, before turning around to join the kids standing on the school’s steps.
They seem to have all forgotten about Dart, but you sure as hell haven’t. Dustin fiddles with his walkie and won’t meet your eye, which only reminds you of how weird he had been acting in the bathroom earlier when he conveniently couldn't find Dart.
The two of you are definitely having a code blue tonight.
“Dustin, you’re my ride to work.”
“What?”
“Jonathan can’t take me, so I have to ride on your pegs.”
“Who’s Jonathan?” Max asks.
You give the girl a thumbs up. “Love the enthusiasm to understand everything, unfortunately I need to get to work and lecture my little brother.”
“Good luck, Dustin.” Mike snickers.
Your brother waves him off. “Yeah, yeah.”
You say goodbye to the kids, giving a stern warning that if they find any signs of Dart to tell you immediately. “I’m looking at you, Wheeler.”
Mike groans and you leave him to wallow as you hop on Dustin’s bike pegs
“She always this bossy?” Max mumbles to Lucas.
He shrugs. “Yeah, but she’s also always right, so.”
You blow a kiss towards the boy, and he blushes. Once Dustin is ready, the two of you head towards town.
The bike ride is quick, one of the small perks of living in a small town. The entire ride, you and Dustin are quiet. You both know that you have many choice words to say, but Dustin still looks shaken up from Will’s episode and you’re not doing too well, either.
When Bookstrordinary’s sign greets you, you tap Dustin’s shoulder to alert him to stop. You can walk the rest of the way, you don’t want him out too late in the dark.
“You’re lucky I can’t call off tonight, otherwise I’d kill you right now.”
“You’re such a great big sister, Y/N.”
“Thanks, I try.”
You hop off the bike and sigh. “When I get home tonight, you and I are talking.”
Dustin looks down, but takes a deep breath and salutes you halfheartedly. You laugh a bit, salute back, and then tell him to bike home safely.
–
After a very long and anxious shift, you ask your coworker for a ride home.
Alex almost drops his keys and looks around, as if you could be talking to anyone else in the empty store. “M–me?”
“Yes, Alex. I need a ride home.”
“Where’s Jonathan? I won’t like, die if I drive you, right?”
You roll your eyes. “No, he’d only kill you if you didn’t drive me home since it’s late.”
Alex exhales, relieved. “Okay, yeah. I can take you home, then.”
By the time you get home, it’s later than you anticipated. Alex was kind enough to drive you, but had you known he was a new driver who went ten below the speed limit, you would’ve just walked.
You walk inside and all the lights are off. Your mom is on the couch with Mews, softly snoring while some program plays on the TV. She tends to do that now, fall asleep on the couch rather than her bed. Too many memories, she explained once to you.
Quietly you take your shoes off and grab some leftovers in the fridge. Dustin’s door is closed and his own light is off, which you sigh at.
“Shit.”
He could be tricking you into thinking he’s asleep, but you could just be overthinking it. Dustin has been having more nightmares recently, you’d feel horrible if you knocked on his door and woke him up from his much needed sleep. He’s been through enough today.
You eat your dinner, alone at the table, and you wonder how exactly you’ve wound up here again. Monster on the loose, Will in danger, Jonathan off with Nancy.
Seems like you can never have a normal November ever again.
After you’re done eating, you tiredly head to your room and collapse on your bed. Except, instead of landing on your soft pillows, you land on a hard body instead.
“Oomph–” A voice groans underneath you.
You fling yourself off, finding Jonathan laying there. “Jonathan Byers, what the fuck are you doing in my bed?”
He rubs his eyes. “Said we’d call tonight.”
You stare at him. “That doesn’t at all answer my question.”
“We said we’d call tonight, but then Nancy and I realized our calls could be traced here, too. To your house, but I promised to keep you updated, so… Here I am.”
“And napping in my bed was just something you had to do?”
Jonathan yawns. “Yup.”
You flick his forehead. “Scoot over.”
He makes room for you on the bed so that you lay side by side. Technically he’s not supposed to sleep in your bed, but your mom never said anything about naps or cuddling. You nuzzle against Jonathan’s chest, allowing the fear and anger from today leak out of your bones as you rest them. He’s always had that effect on you.
Here, in Jonathan’s arms, you feel the safest.
“What did I miss today?” You ask once you’re settled in.
Jonathan thinks for a moment. “Well, Nance and I got the tape recorder and then drove to her house. She called Barb’s parents, told them she had to confess something about Barb and to meet her tomorrow at Forrest Hills Park in the morning.”
“She’s a genius.”
“She is,” Jonathan lazily responds. He’s drawing small circles against your hand, which is splayed against his chest. His sweater, one you bought him for his birthday, is soft against you. Jonathan seems happy right now, or at least content, and you almost don’t want to ruin the moment.
It’s so rare to have him like this these days. The old Jonathan, shy and quiet and bashful.
But he has to know about Will and Dart. It’s only right that he knows.
“Something happened today, at the middle school.”
There must be something in your voice, because the second the words leave your mouth, Jonathan sits up to look at you. “What happened?”
“My brother found a baby monster from the Upside Down, named him Dart, hid it from me, and now he’s lost.” Jonathan stares at you and you can only sigh. “Will also had another episode. His second one in two days.”
“Fuck…”
“Yeah. Got to the middle school and suddenly I was chasing around some lizard looking thing from the Upside Down. Pretty typical day, honestly.”
“I wish I could’ve been there, I’m sorry. I can help you look for Dart tomorrow–”
“It’s okay,” you reassure Jonathan. “If anything, this all just proves that you and Nancy are onto something. I mean, it’s been a year and we’re still dealing with so many fucking problems due to their carelessness. How the fuck does a creature from the Upside Down just happen to survive and find its way to my brother? I mean, what if someone else had found it?”
You shake your head. “Something’s going on. You and Nancy need to keep going. Expose those evil fuckers.”
Jonathan frowns. “But what about you? What if the baby monster has a bigger, angrier mom and you get hurt?”
You hadn’t thought about that, honestly. “Huh, that’s a great question.”
“Bug–”
“I’ll be fine, bee. Those assholes at Hawkin’s Lab need to pay.”
Jonathan throws his head back, closes his eyes, and sighs. He knows he can’t argue with you about this, you already willingly took over the role of babysitter, but he still doesn’t like it. Sometimes your selflessness makes him want to scream.
“I hate that you’re always right.”
“I personally love it.” You respond, and Jonathan laughs. He uses his whole chest, it’s breathy and deep and full of warmth, and you smile and kiss his cheek as he laughs.
No other conversation follows, you and Jonathan are content with just laying there in silence. It’s been a while since you guys were this close. Limbs tangled with limbs, the warmth from the body heat almost too much to stand, yet just enough to love.
He stays for a while, but eventually he kisses your forehead and tells you he has to go. “Early morning, but I promise I’ll be back the next day.”
“I’m holding you to that.”
Jonathan laughs again and untangles himself from you. He presses another kiss to your forehead, playfully tucks your blanket underneath your chin like a child, and then wishes you a goodnight as he leaves through your window.
–
For some goddamn reason, you miss your four fucking alarms this morning and oversleep. By almost an entire hour. You’ve never, ever slept through your alarms this horribly before, and you’re blaming the Hawkin’s Lab people for it.
Now, you know the real reason is because you’ve spent every night for the last three weeks obsessively researching post-traumatic stress disorder, but blaming Hawkin’s Lab makes you feel better.
You get ready as fast as you can, and of course this happens the one morning Jonathan can’t drive you to school and you have to bike. Your mom and Dustin have already left, which. Fuck. You still have to talk to Dustin about Dart.
Not off to a great start this morning.
It takes a burnt piece of toast for breakfast, cramped calves, and a lot of prayers, but you manage to make it to school only minutes before the first bell rings. When you arrive, you have just enough time to notice that both Steve’s car and Bllly’s car are parked in the lot.
Great. You have to deal with them both alone today.
As you’re walking inside, you hear a few people whispering about Jonathan and Nancy. Seems like word has spread that they skipped fourth period together yesterday and still haven’t returned yet.
Awesome. Steve will definitely be in a great mood today once he hears about that.
He can’t seem to catch a damn break.
And neither can you, because you quickly realize how weird it is being at school without Jonathan and Nancy. It’s lonely, and Steve still seems to be hiding from you.
No, not hiding, you remind yourself. He’s still hurt, he asked for space and the least you can do is give it to him. You told him where to find you.
And find you Steve does.
You’re in the lunchroom, staring sadly at your pathetic lunch consisting of a handful of granola bars, resolving yourself to a lonely lunch without your friends, when Steve’s body slides into the seat next to you. You look up, surprised, and he raises his eyebrows at you.
“We need to talk.”
“Okay… About what? I forgot what topic we’re on. Are we still on the whole friends conversation?”
Steve isn’t in the mood for this. “Where did Jonathan and Nancy go?”
Fuck.
You look around the lunchroom, scared that the wrong people could be listening in. “I… Okay, I know we just had a whole conversation about being honest and I begged to be your friend again but… I can’t tell you.”
Steve takes several seconds to respond. You know he’s doing everything he can to not completely snap at you. “You… can’t tell me where my girlfriend ran off to?”
“No…”
“You recognize how fucking stupid that sounds, right?”
You swallow. “I do.”
Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. He’s so beyond pissed off right now. Yesterday you were in his car, reassuring him that he’s a good guy and charming and pretending to be his friend again. Now, you won’t tell him where the fuck his girlfriend has gone.
Steve isn’t an idiot. He knows there’s more to why you ditched him this summer, something you refuse to tell him, and he respected that. He did. He hadn’t wanted to push you too far, but it’s pretty damn ironic that you’re trying to get back into his life while still fucking lying to him.
You see the obvious frustration on Steve’s face, and you wince. You take another look around, deciding to risk it. This isn’t fair to him, he deserves to know because from an outside perspective, you’d also be incredibly pissed off if your girlfriend just up and left with the guy she has weird feelings for.
“Listen,” you lean in close, whispering, “Jonathan and Nancy went off to get evidence about who really killed Barb.”
Steve whips his head back. “What–”
“Shh!” You reach behind his head and shove him back down so that you can whisper again. “That’s all I can tell you. There’s… There’s people who could be listening, bad people who could hurt us and–”
“Well, what do we have here?” A voice interrupts.
The hair on the back of your neck stands up.
It’s Billy.
You and Steve break apart, but he places a hand on the back of your seat in a protective manner. You lean in closer to him, trying to make yourself smaller as if Billy doesn’t already have his eyes on you anyways.
“What do you want, Hargrove?” Steve asks, situating himself so that more of his body is in between you and Billy.
He sucks his teeth and then lets out a cold chuckle. “Nothin’, just didn’t know that this little sweetheart had it in her.”
“Don’t call her that–”
“I mean, her boyfriend runs off with your girlfriend?” Billy chuckles again. “I’m surprised Y/N Henderson ran into your arms, Harrington.”
Billy learned your name.
You don’t want to know how.
“I mean,” Billy shrugs. “It’s a genius plan. Scorned lovers pissing off their exes. But from what I’ve heard, the school’s sweetheart wouldn’t even hurt a fly.”
“Jonathan and I aren’t together.” You finally find your voice.
This only seems to entice Billy. He takes a step forward and leans against your table. “So, you’re single then?”
Steve’s hand tightens around your seat and you feel his body tense. Billy seems to notice this, too, and shakes his head.
“I know I promised I’d leave you some, Harrington. But this one?” He leans in closer to you, his breath minty and cold as it ghosts against your face. “She’s cute. I think I’ll keep this one.”
A chair goes flying across the room as Steve stands up. He has his fist raised and you’ve never seen his eyes so cold before. He hates what Billy is implying about you, as if he has some claim over you, as if you aren’t a human fucking being.
You’re so much more than that.
“Don’t talk about her that way.” Steve growls out, his face inches away from Billy’s.
Billy seems to come to life, having finally cracked Steve Harrington, and within a second he has his own fists raised. You’re aware of everyone’s eyes on you in the lunchroom and vaguely you remember Steve confessing to you how much of a hardass his father is on him about school. He can’t get into any more trouble, especially not because of you.
You shove yourself between Steve and Billy, despite how much your body screams at you to run away for being so close to the other boy. You ignore him, and force Steve to look at you. “Not here. Please.”
Steve looks between you and Billy, sees the pleading in your eyes. He sighs and reluctantly backs down.
“Seems like the sweetheart has you whipped, Harrington.” Billy remarks, a pleased smile on his face. “Makes me want her even more–Shit!”
Milk drips down Billy’s entire shirt.
“Oops,” you say, without any ounce of sincerity. You set the empty carton down and give the boy a aren’t I such a clutz? look. “God, silly me! I can’t hurt a fly, but it seems I also can’t hold a milk carton properly.”
Steve stifles a laugh next to you, and around the room a few others are brave enough to laugh as well. You smile innocently at Billy, who looks five seconds away from flipping the table. “Sorry about that.”
Billy, knowing he’s being watched, forces a smile himself. “You’ll pay for that.”
“Oh, I’m sure the shirt was only worth $5 anyways.”
This time Steve lets his laughs out and it calms you, steadies the shakiness you feel as you stand off against Billy. You hope you’re hiding how fucking terrified you are right now.
You wait for a response, but Billy only storms out of the lunchroom. It’s quiet for a few moments, but slowly the usual buzz in the room returns and everyone goes back to their conversations. You stand there, your heart still in your throat, and Steve’s hand brings you back.
“Hey, sit.” He tugs you back down and you’re too numb to fight back. “That was awesome, but are you okay?”
“Honestly? No.”
He thinks for a moment. “Alright, well. I’m still mad at you, so… Would it be shitty if I left?”
Despite everything, you find yourself laughing. “No, Steve. I understand.”
He lingers. “Are you sure? I mean, I can stay…”
“No,” you squeeze his hand. “We can talk more about this later. Alone, without possible psychotic spies around. Go.”
Steve bites his lip, but he’s still angry at you and he has so many things he wants to ask but you’re pale and still shaking from Billy. If he demands more from you, Steve knows it wouldn’t end well for either of you. You both need your space right now, that’s one thing he’s come to learn about you and relate to himself.
Sighing, he stands up and, to try and make up for being the asshole who leaves a vulnerable girl alone, Steve ruffles your hair. “Stay out of trouble, will ya?”
“No promises.” You smile up at him, though you know it looks as tired as it feels.
He hesitates again, pauses for a few seconds, but eventually he leaves. And then you’re left alone again.
–
As soon as school lets out, you march straight over to the middle school, knowing the kids are bound to be there. Dustin, specifically. He’s managed to slip through your fingers three times now.
Holy shit, you’re really losing your touch.
The second you find the little asshole you’re going to demand a code blue, doesn’t matter where you’ll be, and then interrogate him about Dart and figure out whatever the hell else he’s hiding from you. Then, you’ll make him clean Mews’ litter box for a whole month.
You’re so lost in your revenge planning thoughts, you almost walk right past Lucas and Max arguing in the parking lot.
“What is wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?” Max flies past you, her shoulder knocking against yours. You steady her and notice she’s talking to a very nervous looking Lucas.
Oh dear.
“I don’t understand!” He calls after her.
“Hey, what’s going on?” You try to intervene, but Max rips herself out of your grasp and gets in Lucas’ face.
“No!” She’s shouting now. “I don’t understand! You guys act like you want me to be your friend but–but then you treat me like garbage?”
Huh. She’d get along great with you and Steve.
Lucas looks over at you, helpless. “That’s not true!”
“Don’t look at me, buddy.” You tell him.
“Yes, it is! You go and hide in the AV Club, keeping secrets like we’re in second grade or something…” Max’s words catch in her throat, giving you a glimpse of the hurt girl underneath her indifferent exterior. “You know, I thought you guys wanted me in your party.”
You step close to her. “Max, I know it might not make any sense but–”
“Don’t tell me you’re in the party but I’m not.”
Now it’s your turn to look towards Lucas for help.
He sighs. “Look, we want you in our party, but it’s…”
“But what?” Max looks between you and Lucas, obviously becoming more and more hurt the longer this conversation goes on.
“There… there are just things.”
“Things, yeah.” You unhelpfully echo, but Lucas glares at you. “Sorry.”
He tries again. “There are things we can’t tell you, alright? For your own safety.”
“Lucas,” you warn, scared he’ll say too much, but Max just gets angrier.
“My own safety?”
“Yes!”
“Because I’m a girl?”
Well, that’s certainly one way to look at it.
Lucas scoffs. “What? No!”
You step in between the kids. “Alright, no. That’s not it at all and this conversation will just keep going in circles.”
Max ignores you. “Did you keep secrets from El?”
You and Lucas share a look, and then, at the same time, ask, “How do you know about El?”
“Did you?” She presses, but she’s looking more at you now than Lucas. She’s expecting you to take her side, to tell the boys to be nice to her and let her into the party, but the scar on your upper arm burns and your ankle faintly throbs. Those wounds will never fully go away; you’ll carry them with you your entire life.
You know how shitty it feels to be left out, but you also know how shitty the nightmares are as well. Max can never be brought into the Upside Down. Not when she has the chance to live a happy and normal life, free from any danger and turmoil.
“That was different,” you tell Max, trying to be as gentle as possible. “I really, really wish I could explain, but I can’t. It’s for your own good. If I could’ve prevented the party from going through what they have, I would’ve. But I couldn’t, and it haunts me every day.”
Max stares at you, and you admire how much spunk she has in her. You can see her thinking about what you’ve said, analyzing your words for any lies or deception, and you know she’s spent years doing this on her own. Your heart breaks for her.
Billy’s anger flashes in your mind. Max is an intelligent girl, but you know he’s the reason why.
When she can’t find any lies in your words, she just sighs and shakes her head. “You know what? Forget it. Okay? I don’t want to be in your stupid party anyway. I’m out. Have a nice life.”
Lucas stands there for a moment, processing what’s just happened. “Max!”
“You still stink, by the way.” She calls back, and you step back a bit from Lucas.
“Not to make this worse, but she’s right.”
Lucas glares at you but then sniffs his jacket, cringing with repulsion. “Oh, shit!”
He throws his hands up in the air and starts walking back towards the school. You don’t follow for a second, instead you watch as Max skates down towards the parking lot, where Billy is waiting. He has his arms spread against his car, and he seems to have noticed you long before you noticed him.
Billy’s eyes pierce yours and you shudder. There’s a hatred in his eyes that you’ve never seen before, unlike anything else. Again, your heart breaks for Max. You can’t imagine having an older brother like him.
You force yourself to turn around and join Lucas up ahead. Gross, sleazy men are the least of your concerns right now.
But then Lucas turns and makes eye contact with Billy before you can warn him not to. “Why is that guy glaring at us?”
You shove Lucas to keep walking. You don’t at all like the disdain in Billy’s eyes. “I poured milk all over his shirt today. Keep moving.”
The boy trips over a rock. “You what?”
“Long story, can we please just go inside and find Dustin? I need to talk to him.”
Lucas sighs, knowing that what he’s about to say will only anger you more. “I can’t find Dustin either. We were supposed to meet by our lockers after school to keep looking for Dart.”
You stop walking. “And he didn’t show?”
“Nope.”
“I’m going to kill him.” You know exactly where your brother is: at home hiding Dart and trying to figure out what to do with him.
Lucas senses you know something. “Y/N, what did he do?”
“Nothing!” You cover for Dustin quickly, because he’s your idiotic brother whose problems are also somehow yours. You’ll always have his back, but you also hate lying to Lucas. “He just probably had to head home immediately. Our mom has guests over.”
“Guests?”
“Yeah! Totally unexpected, I know, but you know how our mom is.” You start speed walking towards the bike rack. You need to head home. Now.
Lucas doesn’t believe you. “Y/N–”
“I’m sorry about Max, by the way!” You call as you run towards your bike. “Talk to her! Obviously don’t mention the… Stuff, but just know if it doesn’t work then it’s for the best! We have to keep her safe!” You’re rambling as you unlock your bike and hop on.
Lucas is not far behind you. “Are you seriously giving me girl advice as you’re running away from me to go cover for Dustin?”
“Yes. Bye, Lucas!”
He lets out a frustrated groan and calls after you, but you kick up your kickstand and immediately pedal away, leaving him in the dust. You feel bad, you do. Lucas is one of your favorites to interact with, he’s always been the most rational, but right now you have to go make sure your brother doesn’t burn down this entire town.
You’ll bake Lucas brownies later.
–
“Dustin Henderson, you’re so dead!” You slam the front door, sweaty and out of breath from your frantic bike ride.
“Y/N! What’s going on?” Your mother clutches her chest, obviously frightened by your sudden entrance.
You quickly walk towards Dustin’s closed door. “Everything’s fine, just sibling stuff.”
“Oh, well have you seen Mews?”
The door is locked. Of course the fucker locked the door. You start pounding on it. “Dustin, let me in before I radio all your friends.” Then, you call to your mother in the living room. “And no, I haven’t seen Mews, mom.”
You hear her sigh and mutter to herself where Mews could be, and you figure you’ll help her look after your idiot of a brother lets you into the room.
Again you pound against the door. “Dustin, I swear to god–”
The door swings open and a hand grabs your shirt and flings you inside, before promptly slamming the door behind you. Once you’re inside, Dustin turns to you, worried. “We have a problem.”
“Damn right we have a problem, where the hell have you been–” There, behind Dustin, is his turtle’s tank, completely shattered. Bile rises to your throat. “Please tell me Yurtle suddenly got super strong.”
Dustin walks over to the tank and holds up what looks like slimy plastic. “So, I kept Dart.”
“Dustin–”
“And he grew. A lot. This is his old skin.” He throws it back down. Then, backing away from you a bit, he admits, “I also can’t find him.”
It takes everything within you not to strangle the kid right then and there. You start pacing the room, mumbling to yourself, “I’m a good sister, I’m a good sister, I’m a good sister.”
“Y/N, I’m sorry, alright? I just, I got excited and Dart likes me and–”
A loud growl cuts your brother off. In a heartbeat, he’s back by your side, clutching your shirt in fear. Instinctively, you pull him behind you and reach for your switchblade that you always keep in your pocket now. After everything that’s happened, you find comfort in having the weapon always close to you.
Slowly, you and Dustin start walking towards where the growl came from. Your hand never leaves his back, ready to push him out the door in case anything happens. There’s horrible grunting noises coming from the corner of his room. As you walk closer, you see a trail of dark red scattered across the carpet and his chair.
It’s blood.
The realization makes your breath hitch.
The grunting gets louder as you approach the chair, and then, slowly, you peek behind it. There, you’re met with a gruesome sight.
Dart is eating Mews.
He's bigger than he was yesterday. Way bigger. Dangerously bigger.
You scream, unable to help it, and Dustin quickly covers your mouth so that you don’t alert your mother. The sound seems to alert Dart, however, and he raises his head from Mews’ stomach, covered in blood, and lets out a horrific screech.
Its mouth opens the same way the monster’s did at Jonathan’s last year, the same monster that had almost killed you and your friends. The sight paralyzes you in fear as the memories come crashing back from that night. The scar on your arm burns again. Your ankle twings in pain, and you feel sick.
Your cat is dead.
And Dustin has been hiding a fucking baby demogorgon in your home.
-
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#steve harrington x henderson!reader#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#stranger things#steve harrington fanfic#stranger things rewrite#slowburn#angst#wtlws#m's writing#billy is so fun to write in a very evil way#also tw jon n bug scene for those who hate em#but also it was needed <3
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Comet In Moominvalley
Scene rewrite comic by Comodraws
This scene would take place in between the characters flying with the hemulan and crashing at moominhouse. Instead of crash landing at the comet party, they land in the dried up sea just outside the forest.
I was disappointed with how dulled down the dried up sea scene was in the show, as were many other fans. So I decided to take a one week break from my own webcomic (Imagine That on WB), and put my skills to good use on a scene rewrite. I tried to keep it in the style of Gutsy’s Moomins in terms of how the characters speak and such, but pulled inspiration from the book too. I hope you enjoy!
#moominvalley 2019#comet in moominland#moomin valley season 4#moomin valley#moomin#moomins#the moomins#snufkin#moominvalley#moomintroll#fanfic#scene redraw#scene rewrite#scene recreation#fanart#fan comic#moomin comics#Spotify
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