#season 4 rewrite

[crocwearingcryprid]

Random wip scenes I wrote for the season 4 ending rewrite. Enjoy.

--------

--------

--------

--------

--------

--------

[natsuki208]

Attack on Titan: The Final Season! Redefined

Happy 15th anniversary to the Attack on Titan manga! And in order to celebrate, I drew a poster for what season 4 should’ve been.

No evil Eren, three others are still alive, nobody breaks character, and both Paradis and Marley are teamed up to save what’s left of humanity from the mad founder herself - Ymir Fritz.

There is more to this rewrite than what’s displayed on this poster but I’ll discuss those at a later date. For now, enjoy :))

[justhere4thevibez]

5 facts of a Hellcheer AU where Laura Cunningham is Vecna's first victim, please :)

ooh, this is an interesting one! Thanks for the ask!!!

Chrissy comes to Eddie for drugs not because Vecna is haunting her, but because she thinks there's something wrong with her because she's kind of happy her mom's dead.

Eddie coaxes this information out of her halfway through their first shared joint, and by the start of the second one, he wants to bring her mom back just so he can murder her again. Chrissy might fall even more in love with him when he admits that.

Suspicion falls somehow on Chrissy. Maybe Jason sees her going off with Eddie and thinks she's been "taken in by the darkness." Tries to maybe exorcise her or something.

In this au Hopper's alive, and he doesn't believe Jason's bs for a minute. But he DOES realize that both Chrissy and Eddie are in danger from pitchfork-wielding locals, so he quietly shuffles them off to the cabin he used to hide El in before she got officially adopted until things die down and he can get real proof that they're innocent.

Cue Chrissy and Eddie, both definitely attracted to each other but still mostly strangers, living in near-isolation together. They paw through Hopper's old records, make each other meals as best they can, and try to put the pieces together with the Party while in hiding (because of course Dustin sends a radio with them for communication purposes).

and they fall madly i nlove and live happily ever after because I SAY SO.

[tartarusknight]

I've pushed my luck

TW: Blood, violence, the bats, an open ending...

Dustin screamed into the walkie that they were getting through the trailer. That all of the reinforcement meant nothing in the long run. Eddie can barely focus on what the others are saying as he holds his door shut and hopes that Dustin will run and get out of here while he still can.

But then, like the hero Eddie's seen him be, Steve's voice cuts through his panic. "Just hold on as long as you can, guys. I've got a plan." His voice crackles though the walkie and Eddie can't stop the small smile of relief.

Dustin shoves the trash can lid more firmly into the ceiling before helping Eddie hold the slowly breaking door. The kid looks scared but as he looks at Eddie he smiles a tiny smile. "Steve's got us. He always has," and he says it with so much belief that Eddie nods along.

It feels like forever but honestly it couldn't have been more than a few minutes. When a loud sound comes from outside. Eddie can hear the moment the bats switch their target and the pressure against the door lessens within seconds. Eddie wishes they could see what was happening but the windows and doors are sealed away. They were sealed away.

Dustin is clinging to Eddie's arm as he begins to mutter all Steve's done to save them in the past. But as he's telling Eddie about the third time Steve threw himself in front of danger to save someone else, Eddie's stomach sinks. He runs to the door, yanking it open and running back out into the upside down. He sees the bats swarming over trees in the distance, about halfway from the Creel House and he knows what Steve was doing.

Dustin follows him out and he pushes the kid towards the roof. "Try to get the music going again." He snaps Dustin looks like he wants to argue. "Any sign of the bats go back inside." Then he runs towards the swarm heading for Steve.

He can hear Dustin call his name but he ignores it in favor of shouting. He screams into the sky, begging the bats to come back and to leave Steve alone. If anyone has to die it should be him. He left Chrissy to die. Steve might be the protector but he's not a human shield.

As he's getting closer he can make out Steve's screams and they mix with Eddie's. He can't breathe as he gets to the spot and sees the small place Steve had set up his spot, an abandoned car with broken windows and bats swarming like wasps to a hive.

Steve's screaming is the worst thing Eddie's ever heard and he feels his blood drain from his face. But as he shouts at the bats and a group of them turn to look at him, they all drop. The small clearing is quiet and Eddie rushes towards the car. The car seats are all shredded up but he can see Steve hiding under the them. The parts of him that were visible were covered in blood and Eddie's sick to his stomach.

He can't get his throat to work as he opens the door to the car and Steve's foot falls out. Eddie does his best to focus on the wet sound of Steve's breathing and gently joins Steve in the car. Blood coats the inside of the vehicle but Eddie knows Steve's still alive.

Eddie almost jumps as Steve's hand slips out and grasps for Eddie's hand, leaving a smear of red blood across his pale skin. Gingerly guiding Steve with the arm given to him, he hears Steve's groans of pain before finally seeing the bites and scratches littering his body. Steve slumps against the side of the car, his chest heaving.

"D-Dustin?” Steve questions and for a minute Eddie thinks he's so out of it he thinks that Eddie's the kid.

But then he understands, "he was okay. It worked. They abandoned us for whatever the hell you did." He says and Steve smiles a little. Eddie's eyes drift to the cut that bleeds down his face a little more from the movement. "Come on, let's get you outta here " Eddie says after seeing Steve's body droop a little more. Steve nods but his entire body tenses up like that small movement was excruciating.

Eddie tries to help Steve move but soon the younger teens is collapsed back against the side of car, breathing like he had just run a marathon. "Steve, we gotta keep moving." Eddie tries to order but it comes out more as a beg. Especially as Steve's head thinks back onto the rusted metal. "Come on, we need to get you to help." But Steve looks lost by his words. Like he's not quite understanding him anymore. "Please don't die on me," Eddie's voice breaks and Steve's hand moves to grip his.

His smile is bright even with the blood dripping from his lips. "Sometimes... You have to run." Steve states and Eddie blinks, trying to understand. "You ran and you survived because of it. Don't- don't think you did the wrong thing. I- I ran the first time too." Steve says and Eddie cups his face, keeping Steve's head up. Like he lost all the strength to hold himself up.

He sucks in another painful sounding breath. "I'm not smart like the rest of them. But even I know that running away from danger isn't cowardly... It's just survival." Steve gets heavy in Eddie's hands. "Can blame yourself man. Blame... It eats at you. I- I saw Nance- she felt guilty too. About Barb- about being with me." Steve's eyes are sad. "Don't want you to be like that. Want yo- you to be happy. Chrissy- Chrissy was kind. She'd- never blame you... That'd be silly." Steve says, leaning into Eddie fully now.

Eddie bites his lip bloody in fear, "Save your energy man. I just-"

Steve looks at him and his eyes aren't quite meeting his. "I'm n-not gonna make the w-walk," he says simply. Like he knew the moment he heard Dustin's plea through the radio. Eddie supposed he's been ready for years. Always ready for the next hit to be his last.

"Don't say that. We can- Your Steve, you have to get up." Eddie whispers and Steve's grin is so tired now.

He shakes his head ever so slowly. "I-I think... I've pushed my luck," he whispers and Eddie hates it. He looks down at Steve who was just a teenager. One a little over a year younger than Eddie himself. And he was looking so ready, so prepared. Like his death was always right around the corner and he's been running towards it for years.

Eddie shakes his own head and moves. Pulling Steve to his chest and lifting is as hard as he thought it would be, but it doesn't stop him from trying. His first step is wobbly and Steve's looking at him with wide eyes. "I'm gonna get you home." Eddie promises and Steve looks so confused, like he never expected to be one carried. But Eddie would. Hed carry Steve all the way to the hospital if he had to. "Were gonna get out of here. Were gonna win this damn thing." Eddie tells him, hoping that it's true.

[vampandvisiongirl]

Oh nothing just me imagining a season 4 that was done well where Angelus & Evil Cordelia run all over town together and get married and then Angel & the real Cordelia return to find wedding bands on their fingers.

[blushweddinggowns]

Nancy furrowed her brow as she went to answer it, just as confused as everyone else, “Hello? What? I-Fred please be quiet for one second! How did you know I was here- I know the article is due but I’m in the- why call me if you aren’t going to let me talk!”

She pinched the bridge of her nose, “You know what? Yeah, just wait for me at school. I’ll be there in a few hours. Yes, hours! I’m hanging up now.”

She sighed, rubbing a hand over her face before addressing everyone, “It wasn’t important. I just have to stop at the school at some point today. But for now we should get going-”

But Wayne wasn’t having it. He turned back to the duo, pointing an accusing finger their way,“If either of you think you’re stepping out of this house you have another damn thing coming-”

“Okay!” Eddie interrupted, reaching out to grab Wayne’s arms, “It’s time to talk in private. The rest of you stay here.”

Eddie dragged Wayne into the back room, Steve following meekly behind. They could still hear them in such a small space, hushed voices arguing in Eddie’s room.

It made Chrissy feel weird, like she was intruding on a family moment. She knew she was, they all were. Dustin even went as far as to turn on the TV, effectively giving them the noise they needed to keep their conversation private.

“Oh my god,” Dustin breathed after a few seconds, “Oh no, oh no, oh no.”

Chrissy glanced at the screen, her stomach dropping when she saw what it was. It was her school photo. Followed with a reporter’s voiceover, “...following a cryptic voicemail, that police suspect was a forced call. Considering the untimely deaths of multiple young women in the town of Hawkins, we need a prompt and quick response in regards to finding this young lady. If anyone knows the whereabouts of Chrissy Cunningham please call your local authorities immediately. 

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no. She should have known. Of course her mom would go straight to the police. She knew that call had been pointless. Worse than pointless. If she had never said anything then she probably wouldn’t have even realized Chrissy was gone until today. 

“We can’t stay here,” Chrissy said suddenly, already feeling frantic.

“Why not?” Dustin asked, his brow furrowed, “No one else even knows you're here!”

But Robin was already moving, cursing under her breath as she got her shoes on, “Because if anyone looking for her has a single working brain cell they’ll look for me. And how do you find me?”

“You find Steve?” Dustin asked, still watching in confusion as the rest of the girls got ready to go.

“And if you’re looking for Steve,” Robin asked, “Where would you go?”

“Here,” Dustin grumbled, finally catching on. 

“There you fucking go,” Robin sighed, before calling down the hall, “Steve, Eddie, we gotta go. Now!”

“Give us a damn minute!” Eddie yelled back, but Robin wasn’t having it. She marched back there, dragging a confused Chrissy with her. 

The three men stared at them as Robin dug around, talking as she searched, “They reported Chrissy missing so that means cops are almost certainly on their way here. We need to go now-aha!”

She held up Eddie walkman, before waltzing over to Chrissy to put the headphones over her ears. She hummed the melody as she snatched the tape out of Eddie’s player, snapping quickly into the walkman and pressing play.

“There,” She said with a gentle smile, interlacing Chrissy’s fingers with her own, “Now you’re mobile.”

She turned back to Eddie and Steve, her voice softening at the kicked-puppy look on Steve’s face, “We’ll wait outside, but we need to think of a place to hide. Fast.”

“I already know a place,” Eddie sighed, waving them off. He threw his keys in their direction, Robin just catching them in time as he kept his eyes on Wayne, “Go to the van and hide in the back. We’ll be out in a minute.”

Chrissy nodded, and then Robin was dragging her off. She chanced one look back at them, her heart breaking a little at the devastated look on Wayne’s face. She felt so bad. Yes, whatever this was had started before her, but she was the brand new reason she was involved. Why all of these people were now risking themselves for her of all people. 

“This isn’t your fault, y’know,” Robin said quietly as she unlocked the van’s door, the rest of the group talking quietly amongst themselves in front of the beemer, “I can see your brain working over there.”

Chrissy shrugged as she climbed inside, settling in the back. Robin sat beside her, close enough for their shoulders to touch. Chrissy wished Robin would think about stuff like that, how often she touched her. Or maybe Chrissy wished she could start thinking of it less.

“Maybe not everything,” She mumbled, “But it’s my fault you’re involved now. Maybe you guys could have been the bystanders for once if I never happened.”

“I doubt it,” Robin laughed softly, giving Chrissy’s hand a comforting squeeze. ``I got involved by working at an ice cream shop. Don’t underestimate the randomness of this crap. Besides…”

She trailed off, scooting closer to lay her head against Chrissy’s shoulder. Close enough for the warmth of her breath to tickle Chrissy’s neck, “Getting to know you is more than worth the trouble.”

From the latest chapter of this fic

[steddieunderdogfics]

Here is one very good (possibly underdog) fic for this Monday Challenge!!

https://archiveofourown . org/works/54257992/chapters/137404948

The Moon Turns Gold by Peachesandpears

@pearynice

Rating: Mature

40,462 words, 8/8 chapters

Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Romantic Soulmates, Platonic Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Feels, Platonic Soulmates Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Trans Eddie Munson, Canon-Typical Violence, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Domestic Violence, shown through flashbacks- never between any of the ships, Season 4 re-write, Vecna’s curse, Nightmares, Recreational Drug Use, Eddie Munson Whump, First Kiss, Getting Together, Eventual Fluff, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Eventual Happy Ending

Summary:

Having been forced to bear witness to his parent's toxic soulmate bond, Eddie Munson promises himself he will never fall in love. Promises himself he will never curse another with the touch that will bind his soul to theirs, promises himself to never let another do the same to him in return. But in the spring of 1986, when Chrissy Cunningham is murdered in front of him, breaking those exact promises may prove to be what saves him.

Thanks for the rec!

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks!

[steviewashere]

Discombobulated by The Disembodied

Rating: Teen and Up (May Change)CW: Graphic Depictions of Violence/Canon Typical Violence, Canon Typical Blood & GoreCharacters: Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Vecna, Other Characters to Be AddedTags: Canon Re-write, Canon Divergence, Season 4, Vecna's Curse, Steve Harrington Gets Vecna'd, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington's Friendship, Steve Harrington Has Nightmares, Traumatized Steve Harrington, Mild Humor, Steve Harrington Has Head Trauma, Steve Harrington Has Migraines, Worried Robin Buckley, Mentions of Steve's Bad Parents, Other Tags To Be Added WC: 4,177

Season four rewrite where Steve gets targeted instead of Max. More to be added eventually, but here's chapter one! Enjoy! <3

Or, read it on AO3 Over Here!

🪦—————🪦 A bloody nose isn’t good for business. Not when it drips down onto the case he’s holding. Staining the pristine white edge with a rich pool of his warm blood. He’s never done well at the sight of it. And knows damn well she won’t allow him to just walk around Family Video with a wad of toilet paper up his nostril. “Robin,” he calls out towards the back room.

“What d’ya want Steve? I’m on break!” She shouts. Her mouth is full of something. Probably fries, if the smell of grease in the air says anything.

“Um—I—Don’t freak out!”

“You know that as soon as you say something like that, I’m going to do it regardless. Now, what’s wrong?! Use your big boy words!”

Steve scoffs and rolls his eyes. Finger laying flat against his nostrils, head tilted towards the ceiling. The flow won’t stop. He pinches. Voice high pitched and embarrassingly similar to Kermit the Frog, “I’ve got a bloody nose! I’ll go to the bathroom and clean it up, already half way there. Just need somebody to watch the counter.” And since he’s honest, he’s in the men’s restroom before she has the chance to even open the break room door.

It’s a mess. His hand is coated in his own blood, already drying between his fingers, caught in the life lines. A faint ring of red on the edge of his right nostril. Damp spot above his lip, caught in the little bit of mustache hair he’s got, tacky. It’s on the tip of his tongue when he catches a little bead between his lips. He wets a paper towel and dabs at the stains on his face. The white paper turning hideously pink. Almost salmon. Wrings it out under the steady stream of warm water from the tap, watching as the blood washes away in little swirls. This has to be the most inconvenient time to get a nose bleed. But every single time has been inconvenient. Is there convenience in blood on his face?

He sighs when he’s finally clean. And takes a good look at himself in the mirror. Dark circles and oily skin. Shaking hands. Dark pink lips—stained. “Get it together,” he mutters, “rent’s due in a few days. Need all the money you can get.” He runs his hand over his face, grimacing at the flakes of blood that come away from his sweaty palm. “Fuck.”

When he’s back on the sales floor, he has to force the annoyed sigh back down his throat. Robin’s already looking at him. Wide eyed and reaching out. “I’m fine,” he automatically says. She’s got questions, he knows this. Will he answer? Most likely not.

“There’s no way you’re fine, Steve!” She says in return, exasperated. It’s her signature catchphrase. “That’s the fifth nose bleed in the last like…four days? You should really—“

“Get it checked out. I know, Robbie. I can’t do that and you know that.”

She grumbles some sort of profanity under her breath, missed by Steve’s slow shuffling towards the counter. “Steve, I’ll literally…give you my paycheck for the rest of your rent if it means you’ll get checked out by a doctor,” she attempts to bargain.

“I’m not taking your money, you need that, too,” he rebuttals. “And I’m not going to a doctor. I don’t have insurance. It’ll get better, I’m sure. We have nothing to worry about.” Though when he looks down at the cases on the counter, stretching to take one, his hands are shaking. Of course he’s worried. He’s had concussions and enough doctor visits in the last three years, it’s enough to finally make his parents tut and coo over him. He’s heard all about brain damage and risks and all the other garbage. What’s nose bleeds on top of that? Just a minor setback. But also, maybe it does mean something. Maybe he’ll die in his sleep, too much blood on his pillow. He’s not sure. The doctor would prescribe him something, probably. Though, doctors aren’t his forte. Not after last summer.

“What if it’s cancer?” Robin oh-so helpfully supplies.

“It’s not cancer,” Steve drones.

“What about a brain bleed?”

“Think I’d know if that was happening.”

“What about—“

“Robin,” Steve interrupts firmly. “Your little diagnostics are not helping. And I wish you’d stop for the sake of my own sanity. I’ll get it figured out eventually. Now’s just not the time.”

He grabs the tape he had before, wiping at its edges with a sanitary wipe. The cloth is pink in his hand. Just like it’d been in the bathroom. He knows that she’s right. She always is, or at least mostly to some degree. But he can’t miss work. Not when he’s got groceries to buy and bills to pay and rent to cover. Not when he’s on his own, no longer covered by his parents.

“When will be the right time? Because at this rate, Steve, it’ll be when you’re covered in your own blood and dead on the floor.” She moves behind him. Standing all too close to his back. He moves away. Her hand falling back down to hit the side of her thigh. “Why won’t you just let me worry? Let me in, y’know. I’m your best friend, you can trust me.” He hates how wounded she sounds. A strain in the back of his throat. The lurching in the pit of his stomach.

“I do,” he weakly murmurs. “I’m just fine with handling this kind of stuff. Not like I haven’t done it before.”

“But you have your own place. You have independence. You’ve got your friends,” Robin lists. Voice rising in urgency and volume. “They want to help you. They want to give you what your parents couldn’t, Steve! That’s part of my purpose! To just be there!”

He sighs. Bends himself in half over the counter, forehead resting on his open palm. The aching tinge of a migraine settling uneasily behind his eyebrows. They’re getting more frequent, too. He’s already out of his prescription medication for this bullshit. Now reliant on Tylenol, and ibuprofen, and weed from Eddie Munson. It’s been weeks since he’s been able to just go about his day, normally and at peace. Haunting nightmares. Whispered voices in cold silences. Getting high just to cover up the pain that doesn’t even recede when he’s finally out of his mind. It’s bad that he’s got Robin yelling at him. Bad that he wants to cave, give in. Knows that he can’t, though. It’s all such bullshit. “I’d ask for your help,” he grits, “But it wouldn’t do much good.”

She exhales sharply over his shoulder. “What’s that supposed to fucking mean?” Her voice bites.

“It means,” he drags on, voice going weaker and weaker by the second, “means that I’ve tried everything. And nothing you could do is going to help me right now. That’s all I meant. I’m not—You know I’m not that guy anymore.” A part of him wants to cry. Grovel at her feet. Chomp down on the side of the counter and sob into the surface, sounds muffled by the formica. But he stays bent over his own hands. Knees forward and ready to crouch down. His hair flops into his eyes. It’s almost laughable how he keeps forgoing his normal hair care routine, but knows that it’s cause for concern, too. What the hell happened to me, a small part of him wonders. The rest of him is just caught up in Robin. What she thinks of him. Why she sticks around for somebody like him.

Steve stands from his stupor. To look back. Her eyes are forlorn towards the doors. Body tight and still. “I don’t know how you can help,” he mutters. “I’d ask if—“

“I know,” she quickly interrupts. “Doesn’t mean you have to be alone, though. I—I’m gonna head back to the break room. Have the rest of my lunch. Take yours in fifteen minutes, alright?” Her eyes find him. And for once, her eyes that are normally excited and curious and welcoming, are dull and closed off. “I want you to eat today. Bounce back. Be yourself.”

He nods once. A finality to it. “Right. Yeah, I’ll take my lunch soon. I can’t guarantee that I’ll be normal.”

“Then don’t be normal. Just be Steve. Be the guy I’m friends with. Not some…Some self conscious jerk who won’t let his best friend worry. Because she does. Do that. A lot. But only because she loves you and doesn’t like the idea of you being dead. So don’t do that. Don’t die because you’re being an ignorant moron.” He laughs, loud and belly forward. Something in him sparkles, glinting gold and honey-like when she smiles at him. Even as she tries to hide it from his sight. She chuckles herself and walks by him, but not without throwing a fake-out punch to his arm. “Fries are calling my name, Steve-O. Practically screeching for me to eat them.”

“Go eat, you dork,” he chokes out through his fit of giggles. Stomach clenching with the words. “I’ll still be here, you know that.”

“You better be, Steve Harrington. Or I’ll find you and kill you myself.”

“Not unless somebody gets to me first,” he fires at her back, already half way through the break room door.

She flips him off. Good natured. Chipped nail polish gleaming in the Family Video light. Her voice is muffled by the swinging door. “Don’t be a stranger! Maybe close up! Come chow down! I’ve got your stupid burger with yellow mustard, you freak!” Before he can dignify that with a response, the bell above the front doors chimes. He schools himself.

His headache festers. And he swears, for a moment, that somebody whispers his name.

——— Before he sleeps, he pops three Tylenol. Technically, he’s not supposed to. But he’s also out of weed. And what he’d normally take for migraines. This goddamned headache won’t leave him. It went from a dull ache within the last four days to a throbbing, pulsing mass at the back of his head. And, sure, maybe he should go to a doctor. Not now. Not with what his brain will surely create for him tonight.

He’s tried just not sleeping. But then he’s too groggy in the morning. Running off of tepid cups of coffee and whatever candy he grabs from the rack in Family Video. While it’s not ideal, the suffering in his sleep, he knows that he’ll have to shut his eyes. Sweat through his clothes. Get caught in the blankets like a mouse in a trap.

It takes a while. The all encompassing brownish-black behind his eyelids to swallow him whole. But it does. Sucking him in, tying him down to the mattress, shoving him further and further into the indent his body makes.

———— He can hear them screaming through the large metal door. The separation growing farther and farther as he sits. Strapped to the chair. Eyes pointed and unblinking at the door. Nauseous and off-kilter, but so damn afraid. Terrified as another screech breaks through the underside of the door.

They shouldn’t have come down here. No matter how enticing this secret code was. No matter if he knew where the music was coming from. He knew that it was stupid. That all of this was a bad and awful idea. And now he’s got two basically brand new people roped into his and Dustin’s bullshit.

The screams fade. Walls crumbling around him. He’s stuck to the chair.

Trapped. His labored and panicked breathing echoing between the floor and the endless abyss that cages him in on all four sides. Beyond where the door was, he sees them.

He tries. Tries really hard to look away. To find a corner or a stain by his shoe or a stray ice cream cone crumb on his uniform, but to no avail. His eyes remain glued to where the door should still be. Where it should be shielding him from this gnarly, unsightly, gruesome view.

Robin Buckley is a tangle of broken limbs and matted blonde hair, smeared lipstick and plucked black fingernails. Her sneakers are soaked in red, covering the doodles he’s seen before, smearing whatever ink was previously there. The white on her uniform is unmistakably pink. Her face…Steve doesn’t recognize it. Features smashed in, bloodied, or missing. Eyes no longer blue. Just two black holes. Suggestions for where eyeballs should go. And he veers his line of sight just to the left of her slumped body, all crooked and messy on the bench they’ve thrown her on. There, on the ground by her rolled over left foot, is her eyeballs. Piercing blue and retina tailed.

Dustin Henderson is also more broken bones than put together human. His curls are frizzy, stained with red, sticking tacky to his forehead. A bloodied pile of teeth lay rotting next to his corpse. His hat is too far away for him to reach. Hands tied behind his back and strained, rubbed red raw on his wrists. T-shirt worn from camp instead ripped and jumbled, stained with crimson, and sticky to his body.

Erica Sinclair. She’s only twelve years old. He can’t look any longer. At what he couldn’t prevent. What he should’ve been able to save. They’re all kids, a part of him realizes. He’s the only one there who’s an adult, who’s had the chance to graduate high school, who’s alive.

A presence lingers behind him. He dares not turn his head.

But a disembodied voice accompanies the lingering shadow towering over his soon-to-be corpse.

“Steve Harrington…Your time is up.” ————

He startles awake in his bedroom. It’s dark. The black inkiness undefinable in the space around him. Filled with the white noise of silence. His clothes are wet with sweat. Limbs locked straight and stiff at his sides. Eyes centered to the foot of his bed.

There’s nobody there, which he wants to believe. But Steve swears, in this torturous moment, a figure stands over him. Tangled in its own flesh. A singular white eye. Dangling claw-like hand brushing the comforter tucked insecurely at his feet. It’s mouth remains still and closed and absent of lips. He swears it. He hears it. “Steve Harrington,” the figure seems to whisper. Voice deep and rumbling. Disembodied from all sides.

He swears it comes from the figure. He knows it does. It has to. But the next time he blinks.

Eyelids squelching with the tears he couldn’t sense.

The figure is gone. Dissipated. He knows he won’t sleep again. Searching the room, eyes going right towards his night stand, the alarm clock reads 3am. It was worth a try. Managed a good five hours somehow. It’s something.

It’s enough as he peels himself from bed and stumbles to the bathroom. It’s enough when he reemerges in a towel with sopping wet hair. It’s enough when he idles in his car outside of the shitty apartment complex he’s managed for himself.

It’s enough to wonder if what he foresaw was just a figment of his imagination.

For now, however, he pulls out of the parking lot. Riding slow and careful to Robin’s house. Today’s the day of the championship game. And he’ll be damned if he misses it.

——— “You’re awfully quiet this morning,” Robin drawls. She doesn’t have to look at him to know that it’s the truth. Her eyeball is practically pressed against the passenger’s visor mirror. Applying her mascara with fingers prying the eye open, tongue squished between her teeth, nostrils flared in concentration.

Steve scoffs. “It’s just early, man. Not that weird.” He rolls his shoulders as much as he can with his hands extended to his steering wheel. Sometimes he wishes she weren’t so perceptive. Or that she only noticed him when he was down on his luck about his dating pool, not his existence. He blinks sluggishly, the road blurring for a brief moment. He should’ve had more coffee or something this morning. Being alert is important. Being aware. Being ready, especially after what he saw last night.

“It is a little,” she mutters, still hyper-focused on her makeup. “I mean—Usually, you’d be melting my ears off with some discussion about your dating life. How much it sucks. What you’re looking for. Your success in bed the night before.” Finally, she pulls herself away from the visor, open mascara tube in hand, and stares long at his profile. “Did you even go on your date yesterday? That girl…What was her name…From the other day? Thought you scored a movie with her or something.”

He shakes his head. Eyes vigilant to the road. “Heidi. Her name is Heidi, first of all.”

“Okay, Heidi. Her name is Heidi. Did you go on a date with her? Or are you going to tell me how she isn’t the right person? Because you aren’t eager to. Which means one of many things: she’s going out of state for school, she’s more interested in your douchebag dad, she thought that you could get her a word in with Tommy the Horrid, or she almost bit your dick off while giving you a blow-ie and now you’re too afraid of a girl with a little bite to her bark.”

“Hey! The girl that almost bit my dick off had serious teeth to her, dude! I have every right to be afraid of somebody making a snack outta my dick,” he objects. “Besides, I wouldn’t know about Heidi because I didn’t even call her!”

Robin sucks in between her teeth. “Low blow, Steve-O.”

“I forgot!”

She groans. “That’s even worse, Steve,” she bemoans. “It’s like objectively terrible to forget to call the girl that you asked out. If anything, I should’a called her and taken her up on the movie.”

“Oh, come off it,” Steve shoots. “God forbid a guy forgets every once in a while.”

“God forbid a girl accidentally bites your dick,” Robin mumbles under her breath. She leans forward before Steve can refute and turns up the music on the radio. Her nose crinkles immediately. “Tears For Fears…Again? It’s the exact same tape as yesterday!”

Steve just shrugs in response. Sure, it is the same tape. But also, it’s keeping that lingering whisper at bay. He’s made almost a science out of it. Whenever he prickles with a floundering sense that he’s being watched, he plays the first few seconds of their song, “Watch Me Bleed”. It works, though. Brain zeroing in on just the voices emanating from the tape’s delicate nature. He plays it in his Walkman at work. During his break. From the stereo in his car. The sound system he stole from his parents. Wherever he can fit the music like caulk between tiles, that’s where the whispers don’t reach him.

She sighs at his non response. “Alright, what’s going on with you?” She finally asks. “We’ve been in this car for like fifteen minutes. You won’t talk to me about girls. You won’t ask me why I’m getting all dolled up or whatever. And now you’re listening to, admittedly, the most heart wrenching Tears For Fears album I have ever heard. At least so far.”

“Does there have to be something wrong with me to listen to Tears For Fears?”

“Yes. When it’s depressing, there absolutely needs to be something going on with you. Talk to me,” she eggs, slapping the back of her left hand on his bicep. He winces at the sound. “Let me in Steve or I’m gonna ban you from picking movies at work.”

He gasps, offended. “You wouldn’t!”

“I’ll turn on The Apartment everyday I work with you this week. Swear on it, I will. Let me in or there will be dire consequences.”

He shifts in his seat. And for the first time in the whole drive, he pulls his line of sight over to Robin. She stares back. But he can’t actually bring himself to look. Not at her eyes or where her lipstick might be smudged. Or at her fingernails, no matter the color they’re painted right now. He finds a freckle between her eyebrows instead. “Okay, fine,” he mutters. “I’ve been having nightmares, that’s all.” And then he’s back at the road. The long and stretching road. An uneasy silence around all aspects of his car. It’s not usually this vacant. But something is changing, shifting. Lurking, he can sense it.

“Just nightmares? Or does this have to do with the bloody noses and chronic headaches you’ve been getting, too?” Of course she knows what to ask. The exact questions he doesn’t like answering.

He shrugs once more. “I don’t know, Robbie. Maybe. Probably doesn’t help my headaches when I get less sleep than needed. The nose bleeds are their own issue, I think.”

“See, this is why you should be going to a doctor. They’d actually know, y’know? Instead of speculating all this garbage.”

“Robin—“

“I’ll drop it. For your sanity. But, come on, it’s not weird to you? Not at all. All these things suddenly happening in your life. Practically mingling and making out in the corners. There has to be—“

He can’t listen to this any longer. To her paranoid ramblings. The what ifs and possibilities. At the next red light, he slams harder than necessary on the breaks. Hands squeezing the steering wheel tightly. Pointedly looking at his white knuckle grip. Tears simmer in his eyes. But he can’t. Can’t do this. The next swallow of spit he takes is harsh and agitating on his throat. “Why are you putting on so much makeup? Nobody has ever cared that much about a pep rally. Why do you suddenly care about this pep rally?” He interrogates.

Except, while he’d been expecting a long and agitated ramble that turned all too sappy, there’s silence. An odd and tense type of silence. Drawn with charcoal and engulfed in flames. His chest drops inwards, stomach swooping towards his throat, and his breath grows choked and distant from himself. He doesn’t move his eyes. For fear that the tangled flesh of that unidentifiable late night visitor will be wearing Robin’s scent. Doused in her perfume, but wickedly tall and bent. He doesn’t look. Not even when the recognizable drag of claws grows sharp and mean on the back of his right hand. Even as they curl into the cuff of his jacket. Even as the fabric bunches with the movement. Crinkling like plastic. And for a moment, it’s like he’s ground beef stowed behind plastic wrap on a grocery store shelf. Awaiting some fate. A fate somehow like death. Death after death.

“Steve,” it whispers. Definitely not Robin. Deep and masculine and vibrating. He swears the voice echoes in his chest. In his head. But he favors the steering wheel. Doesn’t want to confirm something he made up. He’s making this up. He has to be.

“Steve,” it tries again. The claws on his hand press firmer. He winces. But doesn’t move. Doesn’t pull away. Even if it could take him at any moment. Even if it could diffuse his suffering. Even if it would rid him of the crawling under his skin that he’s tried to lock away for the last three years.

The next time, “Steve,” is said again, it’s Robin. Shaking his hand. Firmly pushing into his skin. Panicked and sharp and loud by his ear. He blinks, shifting, whipping his head to see her. Her piercing blue eyes perfectly placed in their sockets, fitted by black mascara and her lips a shiny pink, freckles, shaking voice, meticulously styled bob. “Steve, hello? What the hell—Where’d you just go?”

He flits over his surroundings. Pulled to the side of the road. Idling with the engine on. The tape done and over. How long have I been out of it, he has to wonder, and how did I get over here from the road? “I—I don’t know what that was,” he musters. “Lost in thought, I guess.”

“Is your head up your own ass or something? Made me have to pull over and emergency brake, you asshole.”

“Sorry,” Steve murmurs, “must be more tired than I thought.” His hands go back to the steering wheel. The leather squeaks under his sweaty grip. It’s solid where he touches. The only thing he can hear are his hands and her breath. He sighs with exhausted relief. “So,” he chirps, “getting ready for Vickie, right?” He deflects. “She definitely likes boobies. And you like boobies. Match made in heaven.”

For a moment, Robin’s eyes flash with something like grievance. A worry. But she schools her expression and scoffs. A tight, tight laugh. “Don’t call them that!” She squawks.

If he continues to egg her on, he can pretend like there isn’t something breathing down his neck. Can pretend, too, that he doesn’t feel the need to be ready. For danger. For imminent peril. For his death.

🪦—————🪦 More to come later, but take this for now. Basically throwing you a bone. Whoops. Chew on this for a bit while I think about how to keep the narrative going.

[eightfifteen]

rewriting season 4 Choose Your Own Adventure style!

Mike has decided to go to Max for help.

Mike arrives at the trailer park after only a short walk. The sun is just starting to rise and the park is quiet this early in the morning. He's pretty sure he knows which trailer is Max'. Now he's actually here, however, he's not quite sure what he's doing or what he's even planning on telling Max.

He's still trying to figure out what even happened or how he got to the other side of Hawkins without remembering anything.

[hellcheerficdatabase]

The Vanishing of Chrissy Cunningham

Author: @a-strange-inkling

Rating/Warning: Mature, referenced ED, past ab*se, s*icidal thoughts

Chapter Count: 1/9 (Part 1 of Old Haunts Universe series)

Description:

He’s never going to see her again.

The thought guts him, leaves him carved out, empty and hollow as he just stares into the darkness surrounding him. She was just there and now… now she’s gone.

He never got to say anything… he never got to say…

She’s gone.

Chrissy is gone.

Tags: Alternate Universe- canon divergence, everyone lives/nobody dies, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, season 4 rewrite, Eddie has a crush on Chrissy, Chrissy has a crush on Eddie, BAMF Chrissy, falling in love, eventual happy ending, Eddie POV (so far), multiple chapters, status: WIP

[orchidsncrake]

and watch them fall

pairing/fandom: joe goldberg/rhys montrose, you

rating: explicit (preemptively, there will be porn and murder and the like)

tags: alternative universe - canon divergence, S4 rewrite, obsession, strangers to lovers, POV Joe Goldberg, murder, bookstore owner joe goldberg, Rhys Montrose is a real person, developing relationship, slow build, eventual relationship, eventual smut, tags to be update as fic progresses

word count: 3,564

chapter 1/?

summary: Joe moved to London to escape his past habits. An unassuming bookstore in the downtown area was the perfect place for that, right? But what happens when the charming potential mayor of London waltzes into his store and makes an impression?

link below the break

i'm going to just be posting links to each addition for ease (it gets a little lengthy to scroll through it all, i'm sure) but if any of you are diehard tumblr fic readers and would prefer it on here to ao3, let me know and i'll copy and paste it all over

[theladycarpathia]

Hellcheer Anniversary Day One 

WIP WORD - TIGHT

I couldn’t finish either of my intended prompts for day one to a level that I was happy with so have a chunk of my S4 rewrite

*** 

“I want him to go away,” she whispers and the misery on her face makes his heart clench. She’s so tired and so afraid and all she has to help her is him.

Across the way, the door to the trailer opens. The family that lives there is fairly new: a teenage girl and her mom, if you don’t count the mutt out in the pen. He’s spotted her at school this year so he knows she’s a freshman. She has red hair twisted into tight plaits, a striped blue t-shirt, and a metal dog bowl clutched in one hand.  People turn up here all the time and Eddie can tell that these are the kind of people who ran into some bad luck for them to end up here. The mom looks so worn out but she looks like she’d been pretty once. The kind of woman who had nicer clothes and had her nails done every so often, before life stripped it all away from her.

Next to him, Chrissy raises her head, her eyes fixated on the girl as she strolls over to the pen. 

“What?” Eddie asks, unsure what’s so interesting about his neighbor. But Chrissy frowns.

“I know her,” she says, leaning over so he can hear her. “I see her going into Miss Kelly’s office when I come out.”

[natsuki208]

This is what my AOT S4 rewrite looks like right now.

(I couldn’t find a good warrior Bertholdt picture so I used his Colossal Titan instead. Same with Ymir)

For @sonofthesaiyans to see :)

[wordsofrowan]

From Ashes to Embers

Chapter 4 - A Half Smile and A Blank Stare

As the piercing sound of the alarm clock filled my room, I groggily opened my eyes. With a bittersweet smile, I forced myself to get out of bed, knowing that another day awaited me. I went through my morning routine, dressing up and mentally preparing for the challenges ahead. But deep down, a heavyweight tugged at my heart, a constant reminder of the recent events that had unfolded.

When I arrived at school, a wave of commotion greeted me as I entered the classroom. My classmates huddled together, their voices blending into an excited cacophony. They were buzzing with excitement, their animated chatter revolving around their newfound heroism and their supposed connection to Ladybug. I couldn't help but sigh as I made my way to my seat at the back, silently observing the unfolding conversation.

Nino, Alya, Kim, Max, and even Chloe reveled in their heroic exploits, proudly boasting about their encounters with Ladybug and their special roles. It was both exhilarating and disheartening to hear them speak so passionately about their experiences. Experiences that I knew would have to come to an end soon. Because the truth was, Hawk Moth had discovered their identities, putting them in grave danger. I couldn't afford to entrust them with their miraculous any longer, not when their lives were at stake.

As I listened to their stories and laughter, my heart sank. I knew what I had to do. I had to find suitable replacements for all of them, individuals who could take on the responsibility of protecting Paris and wielding the miraculous. It was a daunting task, but it was necessary to ensure both the safety of the miraculous and the well-being of my friends. Deep down, I hoped that they would understand the reasons behind my decision, even if it meant keeping them in the dark about my own identity as Ladybug.

Soon, to my utter displeasure, Lila Rossi strutted into the classroom as if she owned the place. She wasted no time inserting herself into the conversation about the temporary heroes, once again bragging about being "Ladybug's best friend." It made my blood boil, but I tried my best to keep my composure.

Just as Ms. Bustier entered the room, the chatter died down, and we all took our seats as she began the roll call. But before that, she delivered the news that Lila would be joining us for the remainder of the school year. The class erupted in applause, and Lila basked in the attention. Meanwhile, I couldn't help but scoff quietly under my breath.

As the teacher continued with the morning announcements, she declared that we would have a free day since she knew how taxing the events of "Miracle Queen" had been for all of us. The class cheered, and instantly everyone gathered in a circle in the first few rows of seats, clearly determined to make the most of this break. They were so loud, practically shouting to the world, and it made it difficult for me to concentrate on my designs.

"You know, I would've helped if I could, but a miraculous can't be activated twice, so I couldn't help," Lila chimed in, her voice dripping with fake sympathy. Alya's expression briefly fell before she perked back up, seemingly unaffected.

"I didn't realize there were multiple Miraculous of each kind," Max commented, genuinely intrigued by the revelation.

"Oh yeah, there are way more Miraculous scattered all over the place! They're in safe hands, unlike here. I actually know most of the guardians!" Lila boasted, blatantly lying without a care in the world. It was infuriating to listen to their conversation, knowing she was manipulating them all. But none of the others seemed to notice, all too happy to fall for her lies.

I couldn't help but scoff quietly to myself. What a load of nonsense. It didn't matter what they talked about or believed at this point. Soon enough, I would have to replace them all, find new heroes to protect Paris and wield the Miraculous. Their obliviousness to Lila's lies only reinforced my determination to keep them out of harm's way and ensure the safety of the miraculous.

"Do you think I was a good holder for Trixx?" Alya's hopeful voice reached my ears, her eyes shining with anticipation. I knew how much being Trixx's holder meant to her, and it pained me to see her seeking validation for her role and from Lila of all people.

But before I could respond, Lila, always eager to steal the spotlight, interjected with her false generosity. "Of course, Alya! You were absolutely amazing as Trixx's holder! In fact, I personally recommended Ladybug to choose you. After all, my own identity was exposed when I was Akumatized. But don't worry, no hard feelings towards you, Marinette, or anything," she said, her words oozing with insincerity.

I couldn't help but feel a surge of frustration at Lila's blatant lies. The audacity she had to twist the truth and manipulate everyone around her was infuriating. I rolled my eyes, struggling to contain my annoyance. At that moment, I made a conscious decision to tune out the rest of the class discussion, focusing solely on my sketches in an attempt to regain my composure.

As I sat in the classroom, surrounded by the cacophony of voices, I turned inward, finding solace in my sketches. With every stroke of my pencil, I channeled my frustrations and uncertainties, pouring them onto the pages before me. My designs took shape, each line representing my determination to protect Paris and find suitable replacements for my friends.

The discussions around me faded into the background as I focused solely on my task. Alya's excitement over Lila's false praises went unnoticed by me, for I knew the truth that lay beneath Lila's deceitful facade. I resisted the temptation to confront her, understanding that it would only complicate matters further.

My pencil moved with purpose, capturing the essence of what it meant to be a hero. Each design was infused with the qualities I sought in the next generation of miraculous holders—trustworthiness, bravery, and unwavering dedication. Through my art, I sought to bring forth the heroes that would carry the torch, ensuring the safety of our city.

Soon, the lunch bell rang, abruptly breaking the tense atmosphere that had settled over the classroom. Lost in my own distracted thoughts, I accidentally bumped into someone while stepping off the last step. A pained "Ow" escaped the person I collided with, and I looked up to see it was Lila.

"Seriously, Marinette?" Alya's voice carried a hint of disappointment, accompanied by a small glare directed my way.

My heart sank, ready to apologize for the accidental collision, but before I could utter a single word, Lila interjected, her tone mocking and deflecting the blame from me. "Alya, come on. I'm sure Marinette didn't mean it. We all know how clumsy she can be, right, Mari?" Her words were laced with insincerity, yet it seemed that everyone else remained oblivious to her true nature.

Silently enduring Lila's taunts, I felt a heaviness settle within me. The weight of her lies and manipulation had worn me down, and I longed for an escape from the constant torment. With a heavy sigh, I mustered an apology, "Right, yeah, sorry, Lila."

The air in the room grew suffocating, a toxic haze that threatened to consume my sanity. I could no longer bear the weight of the tension, the jagged edges of their conflict cutting into my soul. With a surge of resolve, I made a split-second decision to escape, seeking refuge from the chaos that plagued us all. But just as I turned to flee, fate intervened with a cruel twist.

My wrist was abruptly seized and yanked into the depths of an empty room. Startled, I looked up to find Adrien, his grip releasing me as realization dawned upon his face. The room crackled with electrifying energy, our gazes locked in a battle of emotions.

His gaze held a mix of concern and determination as he spoke, "Marinette, I'm glad you apologized, but you need to stay away from her. The tension between you two is escalating, and we can't risk her getting akumatized."

A pang of disappointment surged through me, realizing that Adrien's concern seemed solely focused on preventing an akumatization. It was as if my own emotional well-being was overshadowed by the need to protect Paris. A solitary tear escaped my eye, betraying the inner turmoil that had consumed me. Did he even care about how I was coping?

Quickly wiping away the tear, I straightened my posture and lifted my head. I summoned my inner strength, realizing that I needed to prioritize my own mental and emotional health. "Yeah, I understand, Adrien," I replied, my voice infused with a newfound determination.

It was at that moment that I felt more of my love for Adrien die. As I stared into Adrien's eyes, a chilling realization settled within me like frost creeping across my heart. The concern and determination etched on his face weren’t meant for me, he didn’t care about me, he wasn’t worried about me, he was only worried about Lila. With each passing second, it became clearer that my own emotional well-being was being eclipsed by the weight of his personal goal to maintain peace over all else, even if it meant siding with Lila over me.

As I made my way to the lunchroom, I deliberately chose to sit alone, seeking solace in my own company. It was a bittersweet moment of self-reflection, realizing that my once overwhelming crush on Adrien was gradually fading as I embraced my own resilience and independence. I vowed to focus on my own well-being and find strength within myself, even if it meant distancing myself from those who couldn't see beyond the facade.

Sitting there, alone at the lunch table, I took a moment to gather myself. Inhaling deeply, I attempted to push aside the negative emotions that had burdened me since morning. Opening my lunch bag, I took a small bite of my sandwich, trying to find some solace in the familiar taste.

My eyes wandered around the bustling lunchroom, finally settling on the group of my friends gathered at our usual table. Nino, Alya, Adrien, and Lila were deeply engrossed in conversation, oblivious to the internal turmoil that had been consuming me. Seeing them together, the laughter and camaraderie they shared, a pang of sadness washed over me. I yearned for the days when we were united when Lila's lies hadn't torn us apart.

Taking another bite of my sandwich, I realized that dwelling on the past wouldn't change the present reality. I had to find a way to move forward, to adapt to the changes that had occurred. As much as it hurt to see my friends oblivious to Lila's deceit, I couldn't force them to see the truth. I had to focus on taking care of myself and protecting Paris from impending danger.

The lunch period had passed by quickly, and it was time to face the remainder of the school day. Gathering my belongings, I took one last glance at my friends' table, silently wishing them well.

Walking away from the lunchroom, I carried within me a newfound determination. I knew that the road ahead wouldn't be easy, but I was ready to face the challenges head-on. With each step, I embraced the strength that lay within me, ready to protect Paris, fulfill my responsibilities as Ladybug, and carve out my own destiny.

The rest of the day crawled by, each passing hour stretching like a lifetime of loneliness. I found myself adrift in a sea of unfamiliar faces, a ghostly figure haunting the halls of my own school. The once familiar classrooms became foreign territories, the laughter, and camaraderie of my friends now distant echoes.

As the final bell rang, signaling the end of another desolate day, a flicker of hope ignited within me. I mustered the remnants of my courage and approached Alya, desperate to salvage the fragments of our shattered plans.

"Hey, Alya," I said, my voice laced with hope and excitement, "we're still hanging out at my house, right?"

Her face twisted momentarily, a flicker of guilt dancing in her eyes before she responded, oblivious to the magnitude of her words. "Oh, Marinette... I completely forgot. I made arrangements to interview Lila again for the ladyblog!" Her voice brimmed with excitement, oblivious to the dagger it drove into my wounded heart.

I tried to conceal my disappointment, my fragile hope crumbling like ashes in the wind. A hollow smile formed on my lips, a veil to hide the ache that gnawed at my core. "Okay, maybe another day then?" I managed to utter, my voice trembling with a bittersweet sadness that threatened to consume me.

Alya nodded hastily, already engulfed in the fervor of her new endeavor. She dashed away, leaving me standing there, a solitary figure in a world that had forgotten my existence. I mustered a feeble farewell, my voice swallowed by the void between us. "Good luck," I called after her, the words dissipating into emptiness, lost to the winds of apathy.

Feeling a mix of sadness and frustration, I decided to linger at school a little longer. I sought refuge in my sketches, pouring my emotions onto the pages, seeking solace in the strokes of my pencil.

As the sun began its descent, casting a warm glow across the city, I finally left the school grounds. Aching for a moment of peace, I took a detour through the park on my way home. Lost in my thoughts, I walked aimlessly, oblivious to the world around me.

Then, amidst the hazy twilight, I heard my name. "-I just don't get why she's so mean to me." I looked up, drawn towards the gathering of my classmates surrounding Lila. My heart sank as I watched her weaving a tale of my supposed cruelty. I couldn't bear to witness the charade any longer. With a tear streaming down my cheek, I ran the rest of the way home, seeking solace within the familiar walls of my sanctuary.

As I closed the door behind me, leaning against it for support, I wiped away my tears, trying to gather myself. Taking a deep breath, I entered the bakery, where my parents were finishing up dinner. Their comforting presence provided a much-needed refuge.

During dinner, my parents must have been able to tell something was wrong with me because as soon as I sat down to eat with them I was greeted by my mother asking me, "Is everything okay, sweetie?"

I let out a heavy sigh, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on me. "Not really," I admitted, my voice barely audible. "It's Lila. She's spreading lies about me again, and now the whole class is turning against me."

My father put down his fork, his eyes fixed on me with genuine worry. "What kind of lies is she telling this time?" he asked, his voice filled with fatherly concern.

Taking a moment to collect myself, I shared the latest incident in the park. "She's determined to poison everyone's perception of me," I explained, frustration and hurt seeping into my words. Tears welled up in my eyes, betraying my emotional turmoil.

My mother reached across the table, taking my hand in a comforting gesture. "Remember, Marinette, we know who you truly are," she reminded me, her voice filled with unwavering support. "Don't let her lies define you."

A faint smile tugged at the corners of my lips, grateful for the love and understanding from my parents. "Thank you, Maman, Papa," I whispered, gratitude lacing my words. "I just wish it would stop. It feels like she always manages to stay one step ahead of me."

My father's gaze softened, and he gently patted my hand. "We'll find a way, Marinette," he assured me, his voice brimming with determination. "Perhaps it's time to speak to your teacher or the principal. It's important to address this situation."

I nodded, contemplating my father's suggestion. "You're right," I agreed. "I can't keep allowing her to trample all over me. Maybe seeking help from someone in authority is the right course of action. Although, I'm worried it might make things worse."

My mother squeezed my hand reassuringly, her eyes filled with unwavering support. "Speaking up for yourself isn't making things worse, my dear," she affirmed. "You deserve to be heard and respected. Remember, we're here for you every step of the way."

A surge of determination coursed through me, pushing aside my doubts and insecurities. I realized that it was time to reclaim my voice, refusing to be a victim of Lila's lies any longer. With newfound strength and resolve, I finished my dinner, ready to face the challenges that lay ahead.

At that moment, I knew I had my parents' unwavering support, and that was all I needed to confront Lila and assert my true self.

As the evening waned, I retreated to my room, surrounded by sketches and designs that represented my creativity and resilience. Sitting at my desk, I made a silent promise to myself — to rise above the pain, protect my city, and never let the weight of others' lies define me.

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, feeling a flicker of hope ignited within me. I knew that I possessed the strength to overcome any obstacle. With that newfound resolve in my heart, I let myself drift off to sleep, ready to face the uncertainties of tomorrow with unwavering determination.

XoXo Rowan

[jeankirsteind]

Miraculous Ladybug Rewrite

This is au will be totally retconned for season 3 and even the further season. Starting from when Chloe refused to work with Hawkmoth and finding his identity. However, that things doesn’t work well for her later bringing her to the dark truth about herself in the future and Agreste’s past.

Miracle Queen Arc

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7

Season 4 Rewrite

Aftermath - Alix - Gang of Revenge - Sole Crusher - Optigami - Sentibubler - Mega Leech - Crocoduel - Animaestro 2 - Gabriel Agreste - Dearest Family - Nightfall - Risk - Strike Back

Character Profile

Chat Noir - Goldilocks - Viperion - Ladybug

[beinghymen]

OK I'm coming back to this because I seriously cannot get this finale off my mind. So TUA4 spoilers and very frustrated language ahead

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK.

Remember in season 1, when they did the "the day that was" and "the day that wasnt" thing?

They turned the entire show into one big "the day that wasn't." Any and every beautiful moment this show had to offer has been erased, instead replaced with "remember all of your favorite side characters that are dead? Good news! They are alive, but completely removed from the context in which you grew to love them!"

WHYYYYYYYYYYYY 😭😭😭😭🤬🤬❌️❌️❌️❌️‼️‼️‼️‼️❌️

So anyway, here's some things I'm fucking sick about

1: Dave and Klaus never fell in love. Viktor and Sissy never fell in love. (Which inherently means that Sissy and Harlan PROBABLY had to live their lives unfulfilled with Carl. Lesbians for the lose ig)

2: can someone explain to me what The FUCK Abigails motives were to make the apocalypse happen in a world that was completely apocalypse free? Or just, WHY Abigail was capable of fnaf-scooping Ian Hawke and Ron Swanson

3: 🦅🦅🦅WHAT THE FUCK IS CHARACTER AGENCY 🗣🗣🗣🗣❓️❓️❓️⁉️⁉️ I'm so mad that so many of the siblings just. Had NO agency. Klaus was given a choice, he said no, and the plot insisted that he get the marigold anyway. Wonderful. I can't think of a single plot relevant decision that Luther made. The only time he did something useful was when Diego forced him to go to the CIA, even when Luther stated, insanely clearly, "hey I think we should help look for Ben and not go do a useless sidequest" but alas the plot needed them to go to the CIA to learn... what exactly? That the CIA was secretly keepers? Was that necessary information?? (They reslly just wanted an excuse to put them in tearaway clothes. Thats it).

4: Unresolved plot threads. Why did Jennifer come out of a squid? Why did Reginald send the umbrellas to go destroy Jennifer in the og timeline, when he could literally just not do that and there would be no risk at all? And Reggie having a brainwash machine in timeline 1 completely dissolves the integrity of all of season 1. None of it would've ever happened because he could've just literally used his brainwashing machine to make his plans happen.

5: Infidelity! Need I say more? (But I WILL say more. Five's motivation, throughout ALL of the show, has been to save his family. There is no character reason that he'd just CHOOSE to give up trying to get back to his family. And when the plot conveniently drops a literal guidebook to get back to his dying family, he just. Decides not to use it. Why? Oh because he had a "falling in love" montage for six minutes. Thanks show

6: Ok this ones a doozy but hear me out. As posed in season 4, Five created the commission specifically to stop the apocalypses from happening. OK, I understand that motivation- hey wait a second, what was the entire motivation of the commission in season 1 again? Oh, right, to CAUSE the apocalypse. Thanks show. Really appreciate the consistency show.

In conclusion, I am pulling my hair out ✌️😚

....... but. Here's what I did enjoy. The Bennifer transformation+monster. That was sick as fuck. Just a great monster, even if the battle was clunky. The Five Diner. Cool ass concept, if a little rushed. Diego being a lame dad made me unbelievably happy. Viktor and Reginald working together and coming to an understanding, much needed character development. Klaus being a safety nut! Loved that, I wish they'd explored it further rather than throwing him back into addiction.

WHAT THE FUCK ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️❌️❌️❌️‼️‼️😰

WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY ‼️❌️❌️❌️❌️❌️❌️❌️❌️❌️❌️❌️❌️❌️❌️❌️❌️