#second episode: whispers on the hill

[thehill-rpg]

Episode 2: Whispers on The Hill Part: 1/??

The quiet shuffle of bare feet on the gravel courtyard fills the air, accompanied by the faint squeak of a rusty pool gate reluctantly opening. With a pair of composed steps, a slender figure, tall yet delicate, makes her way towards an ageing pool chair. As she reclines on its worn surface, the chair emits a soft groan of protest, bearing witness to both its own well-worn years and the age of its current resting place: Palm’s Motor Hotel. Donning a pair of Ray Bans, she settles in, clad in a casual ensemble of a Washington Nationals' tank top and a worn pair of denim short shorts. In her hand, she opens a well-read copy of Cosmo, its pages gently fluttering in the breeze. Tucked between them is a torn clipping from yesterday’s issue of The Hill, resting over an article titled ‘The Secret to Finding Your Soulmate: Date Your Alter Ego.’ A good article, offering the kind of advice you could only get out of a drunk best friend, yet not the one currently capturing her attention.

Chelsea Dalton reclines beside a pool that seems questionably operational (was that the smell of an impending bacteria infection?), her gaze fixed on the familiar words. She reads it again, for what feels like the hundredth time, each word etched into her memory. She knows every line by heart. It’s beautiful.

It’s also months of dedication, collaboration, and hopefully, justice. Sure, it’s a departure from her usual flair, and while, yes, she’d normally sell her soul for this kind of traffic on her blog, she knew there was no way her posting this story would get it the attention it deserved. Hence, her email to Violet Shard, almost three months ago. She’d been hesitant at first. Sure, she was a fan, but this was something that needed to be handled with care. She was too close to her own source. She couldn’t risk being named. However, Violet had assured her of anonymity and a series of follow-ups that wouldn’t brush any pertinent details under the proverbial rug of Washington D.C. political justice. That's why she had agreed, and why she now found herself just outside the District, technically in Maryland, waiting for said blonde journalist. 

Where was she?

As she waited for Violet’s late arrival (had her trusty Saab finally coughed its last puff of exhaust?), she let her thoughts drift over to Gray, and the party she would have been at if the news she’d just leaked to The Hill, hadn’t implicated his father. She’d probably have been in some uncomfortable sundress right now, watching as Gray loosened a tie, only for his mother to promptly tighten it again, while she discreetly passed another crab puff to Mac. Of course, she hated every second of it, but even without her mom’s urging, she hadn’t missed one since she’d moved in next door to his family at six. What could she say? She had a thing for fish paste covered Hors d'Oeuvres. And tortured artists… She’d let the last one remain unsaid, stubbornly resisting even her subconscious attempts to divert her down that worn-out, oh so familiar road. Not today, Bucko! 

Just as she was attempting to shift her focus, fate intervened with the unceremonious thud of a bottle of sunscreen hitting her thigh, yanking her back to the realm of the living—or, more accurately, a realm that didn't revolve around pining over her best-friend of twenty-seven years. “Slip, slop, slap…” She glared over her glasses at a man holding a faded beach towel and a copy of The Hill. 

While quick judgments were usually her forte, she decided to withhold hers until he extended his hands to offer assistance. She leaned towards labelling him as the "concerned dad" type rather than a creepy motel lifer. "Uh, thanks, but— Is that the latest copy of The Hill?" She hadn’t been able to pick up a copy before she’d left her house in order to get here in time and she was keen to see how Violet had followed up. “Sure, kiddo. It’s yours.” She dropped her guard, leaning over to take the paper from his outstretched hand, “Are you moving in?” She’d have answered if the headline story hadn’t caught her attention. Violet Shard, facing charges of defamation and harassment, for her latest story on Congressman Whitman and Harris. “Uh, sorry, do you mind if I–” She was already up, picking up her copy of cosmo and hurrying out of the pool area and back towards her day room and her burner. FUCK. Voicemail. “Violet, call me. I— What can I do?” 

Well, she knew one thing she could do…  

She hastily opened her laptop, disregarding the unread emails clamouring for her attention with their requests for her usual freelance work. Instead, she navigated to her blog and swiftly crafted a new post.

Ms. Whisper here, emerging from the shadows with a scoop hotter than the Capitol's political inferno. It appears our esteemed journalist, Violet Shard, finds herself in the clutches of controversy. But this isn't your run-of-the-mill scandal, my darlings—oh no, it's a tale of truth-telling and the ruthless consequences that follow. Violet dared to shine a light on the dark dealings of Congressman Whitlock and Harris, revealing their insidious involvement in the war-torn realm of Matamba. Yet, instead of accolades, she's met with handcuffs and accusations of defamation and harassment. But fear not, dear readers, for Ms. Whisper is always on the case, ready to peel back the layers of deception and hold the powerful to account. In this cutthroat world of political intrigue, even the bravest truth-seekers like Violet Shard aren't safe from the claws of injustice. So, keep your ears to the ground and your eyes peeled, because when it comes to unravelling the truth, there's no hiding from the relentless pursuit of Ms. Whisper. #StandWithViolet

Her phone buzzed—an SOS. She shot a text back that she’d be there soon. Though even with her foot planted to the floor of her beemer she knew she’d never break an hour. Hastily rummaging through her overnight bag, she retrieved a somewhat acceptable dress (she didn’t own many); though the party might've been cancelled, she was certain Gray's mom wouldn't want the reminder. Hastily, she made her way over to the shower, and tried her best to find the password to get the hot water working longer than two seconds.

She did her best to keep her hair from getting wet, as she washed her nervous sweat from under her armpits. Chelsea hadn't seen this coming without a fight, but nabbing a journalist? This wasn't just a hiccup; it was the kind of move that had First Amendment lawyers rubbing their hands with glee.

She gave up trying to tune the shower into submission and let the cold water run down her back, as she wracked her brain for a way to assist Violet beyond mere page views. Nothing. Nothing.

When it came down to taking action, what good was being Ms. Whisper if all she had in her arsenal were a sharp tongue and a quick wit? That certainly didn't grant innocent journalists a Get Out of Jail Free card, did it?

After a quick drying session (as evidenced by her dress clinging to her back and making it a challenge to slide down over her thighs), Chelsea grappled with her wayward curls, victims of the fierce heat akin to the Battle of Waterloo. With her belongings in tow, she checked out of the motel, conceding that, for the time being, there was little she could do for Violet. As for Gray, a sense of obligation stirred within her to mitigate the unintended turmoil she had caused him. Nonetheless, she refrained from assuming full culpability, acknowledging that the root of this mess lay primarily with his father. All she’d done was overhear a phone call, sneak into his office at night, and make a few dozen or so copies of a report that she only wished now had more than just Congressman Harris’ name to it.

Pulling up to Gray’s house, adjacent to her own, Chelsea switched off the ignition and discreetly covered her overnight bag with one of Mac’s car seat covers in the backseat before stepping out and making her way inside. The atmosphere was sullen, with white chairs being shuffled in and out from the patio to a van parked out front. From a distance, Chelsea observed Nora overseeing the operation with an overflowing wine glass in hand. She couldn't shake the feeling of responsibility for the sombre mood, knowing she had played a part in it, at least partially.

Following the faint strumming of a bass, Chelsea ascended the stairs, purposefully bypassing Mr. Whitlock’s study. She had been instructed to call him Brody, but it just didn't sit right with her. Instead, she made her way down to Gray’s room at the end of the second floor. Her fingers brushed against the wooden door as she announced herself before slipping inside.

"So, on a scale from six-pack therapy to a spa retreat in the German highlands, how concerned should I be about you?" She offered a tentative smile. However, the instant she caught the strains of "Darn The Dream" by Ron Carter, being plucked, she realised she was entering yodelling territory.

[sadesluvr]

Sins of the Flesh

The one where a religious housewife fights temptation with her gardener.

(JJ Maybank x Reader)

A/N: Second JJ fic! (I haven't forgotten about The Hills!!) This was based off of Charlotte & Trey’s marriage in Sex and the City, specifically the episode where she kisses her gardener! Also, based off Gaby & John in Desperate Housewives, but less weird. Reader is literally the both of them combined, with religious guilt turned up to 100. Check the tags before reading, and minors DNI.

This is a long one, so the ending is a little rushed…Enjoy!

Also credit to @starfxkr and @dulc3vida for their lamb! readers which was a big inspo 🫶🏼✨

Word Count: 5K

Tags: SMUT / Slow burn / Themes of religion / Blasphemy / Infidelity / Cuckolding / Religious guilt / Lots of discussion about pregnancy / Misogyny, kinda / Kook! Reader / Moments of soft! JJ / Unprotected sex / Oral sex, F receiving / Creampies / Corruption & Religion kink / Dirty talk (JJ is a yapper)

Gif by @cyberpunkes !

Your dreams always started off the same.

The sun peeked through the sheer linen curtains, warm rays tickling your nose as it whispered to you that dawn had arrived. Gently, you brushed the sleep away from your eyes as you writhed amongst your silk white sheets, morning breeze making your sensitive nipples harden ever so slightly. As you awoke from your slumber, you stroked the opposite side of your bed, frowning as you found it to be empty.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, glancing around the room in search of something familiar. The hand carved dresser in the opposite corner? Check. Your Bible on the nightstand? Check. The soft, distant cries of a baby from another room? Unfamiliar.

It was always then that you’d wake up, coming to realise that your dream wasn’t so far from reality after all.

You lived on Figure Eight, a place where only the wealthiest and most desirable citizens resided in white palaces with acres of greenery surrounding them. Of course you were no exception; having married an heir to an automotive company just under a year ago.

It wasn’t as if you were unfamiliar to a life of luxury - you’d been born a preacher's daughter right up until you’d become a wife - and had always been told that God had intended for you to be more fortunate than those around you. Yes, you worshipped the crucifix, but yours had always been diamond encrusted. It was just what God wanted.

Much more than anything else, it was your duty to continue his wish by remaining a virgin until you were married, and subsequently continuing the lineage with children of your own.

Apparently, that part did not come as easy.

Hank, your husband, had insisted that it was nothing more than a case of trying, yet at every turn seemed to fail. You’d begun to have a sneaking suspicion that it wasn’t a problem on your end, but his, despite his growing insistence otherwise.

Each passing day meant that your biological clock ticked away, and it was weighing on you that you were failing at the one thing you’d given most of your life towards. On days like these, the only thing that brought you peace was your garden, its lush greens and vibrant purples reminding you of the hours spent at the community garden of the chapel of your fathers church.

Things, whilst relatively breezy, just weren’t so simple anymore.

Gasping, you tightened your baby pink robe around your body as you dragged yourself out of bed, hoping to at least greet Hank with a beverage before he went to work.

You practically glided through the house as you made your way along the mahogany floors, down the grand staircase and out of the double doors, careful not to fall down the porch steps as the slight humidity hit you.

Your husband was by the steps, but he didn’t seem alone.

“Honey, I’m sorry, I —-“

You paused once you realised he was speaking to someone. A young man, with blonde hair, a loose fitting tee and shorts, was sitting on the stairs - as if he were being told off - his face seemingly lethargic and uninterested. You caught his eye as he angled to face you, and he quickly adjusted his cap, shifting the brim around so that he could see you clearer.

You flashed him a brief, somewhat uncomfortable smile before you were pulled into a side hug, with Hank placing a kiss to your lips.

“You were asleep, I didn’t want to wake you,”  Hank said softly. “We did get rather rowdy last night, didn’t we?” he murmured, and you patted his chest, not wanting an outsider to hear of such unsavoury things.

“This is the time, I feel it,” he announced before nodding at the blonde. “That’s why I’ve hired a gardener. Now I know you love your plants, and you can still go about the little things, but all that labour just isn’t going to work.” he told you. “We need you in top condition, especially once the baby arrives. The smallest things can affect our chances, you know.” he finished, and you nodded.

There was certainly no denying that Hank was a good husband. What man would want their young wife out in the North Carolina sun for upwards of two hours a day? Not to mention all of the wild plants that could’ve lurked. Even if you weren’t yet pregnant, it just made sense, right?

“I’ve given him a basic rate,” he said, adjusting his tie before lowering his voice. “Money’s on the table and our valuables are in the safe. He’s one of those Pogues…just watch him, you know how they are.” Hank warned quietly, but loud enough to assert dominance.

With a final kiss he was off, and you were left with the strange Pogue boy on the front porch. As odd as it sounded, perhaps the boy’s presence would be a blessing, for as much as you loved solitude, it was rather lonely at times. You supposed it would give you something to do.

“Blink twice if you need help,” a cool voice said, causing you to whip your head towards it. You hadn’t noticed that the blonde had been staring at you, nor that you’d been momentarily zoned out. 

“Kidding, I know how you Kooks operate…” he said, vaguely judgmental as he stood to his feet. Even though he was on the step below you, you couldn’t help but notice that he was bigger than you, in height and muscle, making you step back in shock and bunching your robe up in your hands.

“I’m not going to do anything to you, Lady. I’m just here for the money. ‘Names JJ by the way,” he said, and you were surprised to see him stick out his hand.

Regaining your senses, you shook it back, giving him your name and a soft smile. He didn’t respond, instead allowing for a smirk to appear across his face before shoving his hands into his pockets.

“So, uh, where d���ya want me to start?”

༼ ♰ ༽

The first time you’d had an unsavoury encounter with JJ Maybank had actually been later that day. The boy hadn’t been shy - in the slightest - about staring at you, peeking over the bushes as he watched you prune your bonsai on the deck, face as close as possible to its leaves as you made sure it was immaculate. Unfortunately, this had meant that you were hunched over, giving the blonde a view of the top of your cleavage; not enough to be considered adulterous, but enough to tempt him into some lewd thoughts.

You’d made eye contact with him, and he’d made no effort to break it with yours, instead smirking and flashing you a disingenuous nod. Pursing your lips, you remembered the look in his eye; as if he were trying to figure you out and yet simultaneously seeing right through you. Being a preacher's daughter, it was a look you’d been given a thousand times before, and yet you’d never been so unsure of its intentions until now. Perhaps it was because he was a Pogue boy, and you were a Kook housewife, alone in a house together whilst your husband was at least an hour away. You’d heard all the stories about their savagery; how life in The Cut was so brutal that everyone was on edge, just waiting for an opportunity to go off.

What was JJ capable of? Would you be a good enough wife and Catholic to withstand it? 

More importantly, why did it worry you so?

“...The bush is lovely, by the way.”

His voice drew you from your thoughts.

“Excuse me?” you blinked.

“Your bush,” JJ said with a grin, pointing to the plant in front of you. “It’s all nice and shit. It’s trimmed perfectly,” he mused. “Either you’ve got a lot of time or you just have magic hands…That’s because of all your Jesus stuff, right?”

You sucked in a breath.

“I adore plants,” you said rather bluntly. “They keep me busy.”

“Funny. I usually prefer to smoke mine…I guess you don’t have much going on anyway,” he continued, dropping the hedge scissors to his side as he stopped his motions, giving you his full attention. “Other than what? Look pretty and have babies? You Kooks are swimming in so much you don’t even know where to begin —“

“Are you rather done?” You interjected, ignoring the fact that he’d complimented you. “We’re not paying you to talk.”

JJ chuckled and scratched the back of his head, seemingly enjoying your outburst.

“Hey,” he shrugged. “What your old man doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

༼ ♰ ༽

The other time came after a particularly strenuous lunch with Hank’s parents at the country club. As expected, you were met with the question of grandchildren, to which all you could do was nod and drink your sweet tea, insisting that you were “praying to God”. Of course, that wasn’t an entire lie within itself, but the nature of your prayer was much more defamatory to their very son - something that would make your father’s head spin with utter disgust if he’d ever heard. All of the trying, near misses and downright failures were beginning to take a toll on you, and the deepest, most hidden parts of yourself were questioning whether you wanted a baby at all.

Sighing, you remembered how you barely had had a break, as the moment you’d taken your heels off JJ had arrived - surprisingly on time - ready to get to work. It had seemed like he’d just come from the beach; his signature cap jumbled around his blonde locks and his button up rather undone, exposing his toned chest. Whether it had been from the droplets of the ocean, or beads of sweat from the long journey up, you found yourself strangely enticed by the condensation on his chest, only visible when illuminated by the sun, as if it were his own spotlight.

“Afternoon, ma’am,” JJ nodded, flashing you one of his signature cheeky smiles. You mustered a soft, vaguely curt smile, instead taking interest in his necklace. 

“Shark tooth,” he said, watching you with wide eyes. “I think it’s pretty cool, but I don’t think it would match with your getup…Those things eat girls like you alive,” he finished, running his tongue over his lips as he let out a smooth hum. 

Surprisingly, you laughed.

“I’m not a girl, JJ,” you insisted. “I’m a woman,”

“Yeah,” he scoffed, shifting his weight as he glanced at you, a distant, but glossy look in his eye. “You may be married, but you’re still just a little girl playing make-believe…You and I both know something’s missing.” he finished assuredly, cocking a brow knowingly. 

Instead, you bit the inside of your cheek and shook your head.

“Nothing’s missing,” you said through gritted teeth. “And even if it were, it’s between me and my husband.”

“And God?”

You tutted. 

“And God.”

You could hear him chuckle at this, and imagined his cheeky smile as you turned to make your way into the house, with JJ following after you, parting off into the garden as you disappeared into another room. 

You didn’t know how long later; perhaps thirty minutes or five, but you found yourself by the window to the back door, watching JJ through the sheer curtains as you took in his physique, specifically his lithe fingers and firm grip as they pushed the lawnmower. For some reason, he’d stripped his shirt off, and there was no denying that the sight was making you forget about your terrible afternoon, much more causing a tingling in your loins. You knew all too well that it was the feeling of sin.

Distracted, you hadn’t realised that JJ had caught you looking. He grinned, nodding his head in your erection before he hunched over the handle, flexing his chest muscles in the process.

“I hope you don’t mind, it's pretty hot out here,” he shrugged, a brazen glimmer in his eye before he glanced down at his body, and back up at you. “Plus, I know you liked the look of my necklace, so…”

༼ ♰ ༽

“This is the third smoke sesh you’ve almost missed,” John B said, brow raised as Sarah nodded. “What’s up with that?”

JJ chuckled, shaking his head as he sat down on a chair next to Pope and leisurely cracked open a beer. Around him were faces of intrigue; though more concerned if anything (given his nature), and he tapped an index finger on his lips.

“Getting some of that sweet Kook cash, my friend,” he drawled. “You all should try it sometime,”

“Since when do you work overtime?” Kie snorted, cocking her head.

“Since the day I found out that the business dude's wife is a total MILF,” JJ shrugged, rolling a blunt. “And she’s not even pregnant yet!”

Kie and Sarah scoffed and rolled their eyes, with the tanned girl flicking her hair back before she spoke.

“You know she’s only like, 26, 27? Hank’s like 45 or something, it’s kinda weird…” Sarah said leisurely. “She seems sweet though, even if all the other wives are weird about her,”

JJ excitedly slapped the table before raising his hands in victory.

“So I’m in!” He declared before turning to Pope, who was, if not a little uncomfortable, certainly wide eyed. “I’m telling you, man, say the word and I can get you in on this. It’s like those movies, y’know? Except it’s way hotter because she’s like super religious and is practically a virgin…You should see the dresses she wears - oh, man - they’re like all girly and proper…She’s like the First Lady, bro — I’m telling you, I’m like, in love with her —“

Pope shook his head.

“...That’s not love, dude.” 

“It’s gotta be, cause we haven’t even hooked up yet,”

“Yet? She’s married!” Kie exclaimed.

“Marriage doesn’t mean shit, trust me,” JJ shrugged, leaning back as his legs bounced uncontrollably. “I’m this close!” he said, making a motion with his fingers.

“Hank will literally kill you!” Pope spluttered. “And by de facto that probably means us too!”

JJ shrugged, thinking of the way the sweetheart neckline of your sundresses clung to your chest and rode ever so slightly up your thigh as you’d sit down.

“Hey, of all the ways I could die, that would definitely not be the worst,”

༼ ♰ ༽

“Did you take it properly?”

“Yes, Hank,” you sighed, masking your frustration as much as possible. “It’s negative. Perhaps we should wait a while, maybe a family isn’t part of our journey yet —“

“Nonsense,” he interrupted, wiping his hand across his mouth. “We’re inviting the pastor over this Sunday and we’re talking this out. It may be embarrassing but…”

You couldn’t bring yourself to listen to him much longer. What more was there to say? You’d tried every diet, been to every specialist and had tried some rather strenuous positions in bed all to knock you up, and yet somehow it was still a problem on your end. Hank was a stubborn man, and no amount of prayer would change that.

Instead, you noticed JJ, leisurely cutting at your rose bush as he listened into your conversation, his head cocked and jaw clenched. He was dressed in one of his vests; the sides split dangerously low as they exposed his muscular arms and toned stomach, and you hated how much you wanted Hank to leave right there and then so he could peel it off and work shirtless. From your usual view by the window you never noticed how impressive his legs were either; how his calves curved perfectly as they rose up and disappeared into the material of his shorts, nor how they rode up slightly when he’d bend down, exposing his large thighs. He reminded you of all those boys - the ‘charlatans’ who, according to your father, only wanted you for one thing. 

It was painfully ironic that this was the one thing you were craving.

Hank was still talking - though the subject had inexplicably changed - when you noticed that JJ was staring at his index finger, squeezing it as red liquid oozed from his fingertip. Your eyes widened, and you seized the opportunity to finally send Hank away.

“Bandages are in the bathroom under the stairs,” you said, turning to the blonde, and breaking the older man from his thoughts. JJ nodded and walked off, all under the watchful eye of your husband.

“You shouldn’t let him in there alone,” he murmured, and you sighed, distracting yourself by fixing his collar.

“He’s been with us for three months now…I trust him,” you said softly with a shrug.

Hank grunted.

“Maybe if you stop talking, I could go in there and supervise him.” you said with a soft, inconspicuous chuckle. He seemed to get the point, and you quickly said your goodbyes, sending him off with a custom kiss to his lips. On all the other days you’d done this, it had felt special, but today it was noticeably empty. Perhaps you needed the pastor more than you’d thought.

As expected, JJ hadn’t returned outside, instead leaning over the marble countertops of your island, a bloodied tissue balled up in front of him. He looked a little different than he did in the direct sun; possibly due to the golden haze affecting your vision (and judgement), as the cool tones of the interior made the cerulean of his irises pop just a little more, showing off his pupils, widened under the wanting glaze in his eyes. You never felt scared around JJ - rather the opposite - but his fixed gaze and silence in the moment was particularly ominous. 

“...How’s your hand?” you said, clearing your throat.

“Fine,” he mumbled, glancing down at them before looking up. “I’ve had worse,”

“Let me see,” you announced, walking around the island to sit next to him, closing the gap between you. You took his lithe fingers in your own, analysing how red and raw his knuckles were. For a young man, his hands were somewhat aged; likely because of his life as a rogue, which both somewhat scared you and made you sympathise with him more. 

Fixating on his finger, you tried to ignore the way he leaned into you, shifting his weight so that he appeared taller, the warm skin of his arms pressing against your own. He smelt fresh, if not admittedly a little musty, and the smell mingled with your own daisy perfume, making your heart skip a beat.

“You’ve got a splinter,” you continued. “This has to be removed or it could get infected —“

“It’s not —“ JJ said defensively, and you cut him off with pleading eyes.

“Please, I insist,”

He softened, nodding his head before you moved around the room to find your first aid kit. You’d done it with such ease; as if you were some kind of Mary Poppins - or better yet the Virgin Mary - and he suddenly couldn’t seem to figure out whether he wanted to take advantage of your kindness, or be on the receiving end of it. As much as his cock throbbed at the idea of fucking the repressed, religious housewife and cucking her POS husband, he couldn’t help but think of all the times he’d fallen - literally and metaphorically - and all the times his ‘dad’ had hit on him, ultimately coming back to how much he’d needed someone to nurse his wounds. In an alternate world, you could’ve been that somebody, but he was lucky enough to have his friends.

Once you'd made your way back to him, you sat down on one of the stools, careful as you handled his slightly swollen finger, going through the motions of wiping it with antiseptic before you began to poke at the skin with tweezers.

Moments passed, and you’d spent it in silence.

“Any luck?” JJ perked up.

You nodded and wiped the tweezers on a section of gauze.

“It’s all out now, just make sure it’s cov—“

“With the baby,” he said, cutting you off. Your blood ran cold, and you dropped his hand, staring him in the eye. Part of you was mortified, no matter how obvious it had been that JJ was listening in earlier. 

“That is far too inappropriate to talk about with you,” you stammered.“And it’s really none of your business,”

JJ pursed his lips and flexed his limbs as he watched you scramble. It was as if this were amusing to him.

“My bad,” he snorted. “I just think he’s an asshole, y’know, and you’re so good to me…” he said, pausing to run his tongue over his lips as he stared at you. “Other than the money, why are you with him? Isn’t the whole point of the Bible to be nice to people and stuff?”

Pitifully, you chuckled at his childishness as you shook your head.

“It’s also about being a provider. He loves me, JJ, he really does —“

“Yeah, ‘cause you being a virgin had nothing to do with it…” he spat, causing you to anxiously tug at your crucifix,  “He can’t even give you a baby,”

“…I mean, that’s the thing you want most, right? What does it say that he can’t even give that to you?”

The statement rang true in your head as you ran your palms down the sides of your sundress, strangely desperate to hit something. Was that the right emotion? You couldn’t tell; you just knew that your body was hot, your heart racing as the pulse of blood flooded your ears, and there was an inexplicable urge to surrender, even though you wanted to run. You couldn’t even face the boy as you spoke, instead beginning to make your way out of the room.

“JJ…I-I think you should go…” you stammered, burying your face in your hands as you left, the sound of JJ’s boots hitting your marble floors telling you that you weren’t going to be alone anytime soon. He shook his head and bit his lip in frustration as he followed after you into the sunroom.

“Hey, wait — fuck — I didn’t mean —“

“JJ please!” You begged, facing him as your chest heaved and your eyes were as wide as saucers. You shouldn’t have strolled into here; the heat that poured in from the glass was unbearable, and you longed to open the doors and indulge in the feeling of cool air. If you could just do that, perhaps you’d feel better? If not, you’d certainly be seeing the Reverend about a dip in the water of penance.

Either way, everything was too much, and you had no clue about just how much worse things were about to get.

“You’re not crying, are you?”

“No,” you sighed. “I-I just feel awful. I’m a horrible person, I’m going to hell, I –”

You wanted to fight against the fact that JJ had pulled you into a hug, but as you buried your face into his neck you felt otherwise. There was something strangely arousing about his musky smell, and judging by the feeling of his cock against your thigh, he felt the same.

As if you didn’t know that.

“Shh, it’s okay…You’re fine…” he whispered, pulling away to glance down at you, gauging your reaction. “Let me take care of you…”

“JJ, I can’t —“

Your words were swallowed by his kiss; his lips hungry as they attacked your own, whilst his hands invaded your body, planting themselves on your hips before moving down to grope your ass. You let out a soft moan as he gave it a gentle squeeze before he made his way back up to your face, cupping your cheeks in his hands. He pulled away, eyes burning into your own longingly, yet still a little dumbfounded; and stayed there, his grip unwavering.

“I’m dying for you, Mama,” he said earnestly, gaze flickering down to your heaving bosom, your crucifix twinkling in the sunlight. “Daddy’s gonna take care of you, ‘kay?”

You nodded as you peeled the straps of your dress down your shoulders, heart pounding as you revealed yourself to a man who was not your husband - and yet it felt like your wedding night all over again.

JJ sucked in a breath as he watched you undress, unable to hide his smirk as he shifted off his shorts with ease and palmed his cock through his boxers. He could see the outline of your nipples peeking through the lacy, baby pink material, and knew that he wouldn’t be able to restrain himself once he had his hands on you. Fuck, he could barely even do it now.

“C’mere,” he commanded, silver rings glistening as he beckoned you over. A heat began to pool in your stomach as you walked over to him; sensually, reverently, skin breaking into goosebumps as his fingers danced along the skin of your back, swiftly unhooking the material of your bra. You were straddling him now, running your fingers through his tousled hair as you kissed him, gently grinding along his clothed cock and making JJ let out a soft groan. He revelled in the feeling of your warm skin against his own, and slid his hands down your body to grasp your hips, pushing them down with gentle force against his pelvis.

“JJ…” you gasped. Your heart fluttered, not ready to accept the fact that you were about to take another man’s cock - one that was longer, and probably far more satisfactory. “It’s –”

He shushed you again.

“I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you…Just let go…” 

You couldn’t deny how good the act of dry humping felt, the folds of your aching clit tangible through the sheer material of your panties as his cock traced and embedded on your core; a blob of precum spreading across your inner thighs. JJ’s pink lips were latched onto your nipple, sucking and biting at your skin, determined to leave a mark.

He wanted your husband to see that his property had been defiled - by a Pogue boy no less - all under the watchful eye of God.

After a few moments, he flipped you, your head falling to the other side of the couch as you now found him on top of you, his necklace dangling in your face as he gazed down at you.

“ ‘He ever eaten you out before?” he said snarkily.

“…Huh?”

“Didn’t think so,” 

Before you knew it, he’d disappeared between your legs, sliding your panties down in a swift manner and burying his tongue inside of you. He hadn’t given you any warning, but the hot, wet sensation was surprisingly pleasurable. 

JJ was touching you like no man had ever before; using his mouth and hands to explore your crevice, flicking and lapping at the obscene amount of juices that coated your folds. You whimpered and gripped a pillow, frantic to find some sense of security - only for JJ to pull it from you, tossing it to the other side of the room.

“Nuh-uh,” he began, his voice muffled. “Fuck the pillow. You hold onto me, baby…” he drawled, a hand sliding under your ass and onto the curve of your lower back to angle you higher; silver rings digging into your skin as he held you there. Biting your lip, you fought the urge to blaspheme and laced your fingers through his hair, digging at his roots as he fucked you with his tongue, searching for that oh-so sweet spot.

“You taste so good, Mama…” JJ cooed, lost in your walls, borderline breathless from the way you were squeezing his head between your thighs and drawing him deeper. “…I bet that pussy feels like heaven,”

Perhaps it was the mention of paradise, but his dirty talk sent you over the edge. It was as if you’d been shocked; as if an electrifying pulse of light had run through you, making your back arch and toes curl, swallowing JJ’s face whole. 

It was incredibly obscene. 

You’d barely caught your breath when JJ had climbed back up, indulging you in a passionate kiss and smearing your juices all over your face. Tracing your fingers down his spine, you didn’t break eye contact with him as you pushed down his boxers with one hand and palming his aching cock. It was somewhat heavy with a considerable length, and he chuckled as you shut your eyes and said a silent prayer - not only for what you were about to do, but just how much you were going to enjoy it.

“Hold still,” JJ commanded, breaths shaky as he began to push into you. “‘Imma give you what you want baby…Fuck –”

JJ was loud, but you didn’t care.

It was all too overstimulating; from the dull pain that came from your legs spread so pornographically as they dangled off of his shoulders, to the sound of his pelvis slapping against your own as he rutted into you. You left graceful scars along his back as your manicured nails dug into his sun-kissed skin, crawling at him as you begged for him to go deeper.

“You like this, huh? I know Jesus probably wouldn’t be too happy about this, but pretty girls like you deserve to get what they want…Shit…” he groaned, sliding in and out of you with ease. “Besides, if I give you a baby it’s just me being a good neighbour, right?”

A baby.

That had been the whole reason for your foul mood as of late.

Would Hank ever know? Could you explain it away? How could you function with JJ still around? Your family, your friends…God? How could you ever atone for such a sin?

Realistically, none of that mattered now. Especially not when JJ was fucking you like a rabbit; his hair buried in the crook of your neck and his legs bent as he pressed you into the sofa, yearning to consume you. 

“JJ…” you whined, “I think I’m gonna –”

“Shit, me too baby,” he groaned. “This pussy is so fucking good…Just swallowing me up ‘n shit — I should’ve started working earlier…”

His balls were slapping against your skin now, and you began to see white as he fucked into you, his tip hitting your sweet spot and making you clench around him, legs trembling as you came. It wasn’t too long until he followed after you, your clear juices mixing with his hot cum as he continued to fuck you, rolling his hips in a slow but sensual manner as he made sure you felt - and were filled - with every inch of him.

Which was why it wasn’t surprising that you found yourself pregnant two weeks later.

EPILOGUE.

[missadangel]

Little Bird in a Cage (Javier Peña x Reader)

Part 13: A New Life in Texas (WARNING +18, Smut, bathtub sex)

gifs by ilovejavierpena - tomshiddles

----------- All episodes here --------------

One week later...

It was time to leave, you have felt so many emotions this past week. It was not like just traveling to another country.

At first you were angry with your father again for forcing you to go somewhere without asking you. You visited him to talk, yet nothing has changed.

“You don't want to go with him? Okay, then I'll send you somewhere else.” He teased.

“What? No, of course I want to go with him,” you blushed.  “Dad, stop it, do you really have to send me somewhere to protect me?”

“I don't want you to stay here after everything and, it wears me out to think that you are always in danger, I promised your mother that I would take care of you and protect you no matter the cost, you will be safe with him. Everything you need is in your suitcase, this is my way, bear with me, don’t be angry with me, okay?”

You were actually grateful as you hugged him tight and said goodbye.

Well all in all he was your father. He has done everything for you, even if it was wrong. If this was exile, you would have gladly accepted it, being with Javi was beyond awesome.

The second thing was about what to do there, after all, he hasn't asked you to marry him or anything.

You had to think about it, but maybe later.

Javi talked briefly about his family, but that was it. It wasn't a country you didn't know, you've been in New York before, but as a tourist. Now you were going to live or stay in his homeland with him.

You can’t be sure for future for now since he wants to protect you more than your father does.

You were nervous and excited at the same time. You had many sleepless nights because of this.

The best thing to do was to go with the flow.

When it’s time to say goodbye to your friend Caroline, you tried hard not to cry, you promised to call her often. You didn't know if you would see her again or how you would find her the next time, but you left her house wishing to meet her again.

Finally all goodbyes comes to end, Javi picked you up and you got to the airport together. You were both excited while getting on the plane.

"I think I'm really going to kidnap you this time," he whispered in your ear.

You giggled. "Should I call for help?"

"Don't bother, baby, the plane is already in the air," he smirked, kissing your cheek.

Through the window you could see that you were floating in the air, whatever was below looked tiny.

"Wow," you murmured as you say goodbye to your country, took a deep breath and leaned on Javi's shoulder.

You wished for a new page, a new life, and this time without trouble, please.

-----

It was a hot afternoon when the plane landed in San Antonio. There was only one direct flight from Santa Marta, but the distance between San Antonio and Laredo was 160 miles, which meant at least a two-hour drive. So after the flight, Javi rented a car from a rental agency. You took food in the car before you left, and you ate all the way. You even helped Javi when he had trouble drinking his coke and had fun feeding him the french fries one by one. As car drives through the roads of Texas, you enjoyed the scenery, desert-like plains, hills that in places were just sand and rock reflecting the color of the sun.

You poked your head out of the car window, admiring the scenery, enjoying the way your hair blew in the wind.

By the time you reached downtown, it was almost evening and the sun was about to set. As Javi drives, he pointed and told you about the important places around you, the police station where he worked as a deputy sheriff, the restaurant where he and his father used to go for dinner, his favorite bars, and other places around town.

"Amazing," you murmured, it was more beautiful than Cali.

You loved it, you couldn't wait to see everywhere on foot, but it was a long drive and you felt so tired. When Javi stopped at the gas station to get some gas you wanted to be on your feet for a while, you got out of the car and looked around curiously, since it was evening, people were going their home.

Later, Javi came out of the convenience store and walked towards you holding two cold glass bottles of coke. He uncapped one and handed it to you, and as you thanked him and took a sip, someone called out to him.

A guy about Javi's age, apparently he has also come to get gas. As they talking, he eyed you and then turned back at Javi, you blushed, he must have been a relative or a friend.

You opened the door and got in as Javi said goodbye to him and walked to the car.

Javi muttered himself as he opened the door.

"Someone you know?"

Javi started the engine, "My fucking cousin," he hissed.

You looked at him curiously as car started, he obviously didn't like him very much.

Javi laughed at the look on your face.

"He's probably going to tell the whole town that he saw me with an extremely beautiful girl," he said smiling, taking your hand and kissing it.

"What's wrong with that? I mean, people always like to talk about other people."

"You were born and raised in the city, cariño, in a small town like this, people will do anything for new gossip content."

"I guess, I'm the gossip content."

Javi pursed his lips as if he wasn't sure.

"Okay, now I'm officially worried."

"Do you already regret coming here with me?" He grinned.

You rolled your eyes, "No, of course not, I can take it, it's not like they're holding a gun to my head."

Seeing the flash of anger in Javi's eyes, you immediately regretted saying that.

"I mean, metaphorically, I-“

He put his arm around your neck, pulled you against him and kissed you on the head, his other hand was on the steering wheel and he kept driving the car.

“With me by your side, no one will be able to do anything to you.”

You nodded, “I know.”

“Here we are,” he parked the car in the yard of a small house. You looked at the house, it was much more beautiful than you have imagined. It was a small but spacious ranch house with a large porch.

Javi unloaded his suitcases from the trunk, they were all yours, he only had luggagebag, slung over his shoulder. He realized you still in the car, so he opened the car door for you.

“My lady,” he held out his hand to you.

“Mr. Peña,” you smiled, took his hand to get out

“Welcome to your new home then,” he kissed you on the cheek and you followed him as he carried the suitcases to the porch.

“Pops!” he called out, but it was very quiet, nothing but crickets.

“Maybe he went to the banks,” he put the suitcases in front of the door of a room in the hall.

As soon as you stepped inside you glanced over the kitchen, the living room, the furnitures, all in classic Texas style. Just like you’ve seen in the movies.

“It's a lovely house,” you said as you checking the wall decors.

“Come with me,” Javi grabbed your hand and pulled you into one of the rooms.

It was cozy, with a bed with a wooden headboard, a wooden dresser, and walls painted a light grayish color.

Javi hugged you from behind, “so this is my room, or, our room,” he giggled.

His breath caresses your cheeks and you almost forgot all your tiredness when you felt his mustache rubbing your neck.

“Do you want to try out the bed?”

He pulled you gently by the waist and before you knew it you found yourself laying on the bed. He leaned over and kissed you, and you put your arms around his neck.

“Mm, It's really comfortable,” you giggled.

He was about to kiss you again but you both stopped as you heard a loud man's voice.

“Son! Is that you?”

Javi turned his head that way.

“Yeah, it's me pops!” he called out, then grabbed your hand, gently pulling out of the bed.

You both left the room as Javi's father hanging his hat on the coat rack. He approached with smile and hugged his father.

“How you doing, pop?”

“Same old same old,” he tapped him on the shoulder, then looked at you, you were so excited, smiling shyly.

“Who is this beautiful young lady?”

“Yes, let me introduce you to Y/N,” putting his arm around you.

You approached him, “Pleasure to meet you sir,” you shook his hand, Chucho laughed.

“Sir? Come on, honey, call me Chucho, okay?”

“Okay Chucho,” you nodded, blushing.

“You guys hungry? You must be, you’ve came from far away after all,” he said on the way to the kitchen.

Javi looked at you raising eyebrows, you shrugged.

“Okay we'll join you for dinner,” he stepped around the table  and pulled up a chair.

“Come baby, sit,” pointing with his head.

“Maybe we should help him?”

“Come on, I'm not too old for that,” he muttered you felt like scolded, so you decided to sit down.

Javi kissed you on the cheek and went into the kitchen, you laughed to yourself as he tried to take the plates from his fathers hand and got scolded by him in return. You wondered if they were always like this. They were so sweet.

During meal you talked to Chucho about Colombia, but he was not a man who askes lots of questions. But you liked him. Obviously he liked you too, you felt pleased and relieved because you have been thinking for a long time that he might not like you.

He never asked about your father, what he did for a living or anything like that, and felt appreciated.

More, you were surprised by the harmony between them, the way Chucho reads Javi and his every move, so he chats with you accordingly, how Javi is super comfortable with him also reads him. So easy, so natural.

Your father has never been like that.

After dinner, sitting on the porch at night, Javi had a cursory conversation with his father about work, you sat with them in silence, smiling. When it got late, Chucho excused himself and retired to his room. 

“He's so nice,” you said to Javi as you sat in the chair next to him.

“He likes you too,” he smiled, finished his beer.

“Really?”

“He doesn't show his feelings much, but I'm sure.”

You nodded with a smile, then yawned, he smirked.

“It's been an exhausting day, let's go to bed,” he put his beer bottle down.

“Yeah, I feel pretty tired, can I take a shower first?”

Javi took your face in his hands. “You don't have to ask for that.”

“Well actually since there's only one bathroom...”

You were a little shy and concerned about that.

“It's okay, Chucho doesn't spend a lot of time in bathroom.”

“Hmm, okay, I guess I need time to get used to it.”

Javi placed a warm kiss on your lips.

“I'll help you with that.”

You yawned again as hugged him, he kissed the top of your head and looked at you.

“Why don't we take a bath together?”

“A bath?” raising your eyebrows.

Not shower?

Javi opened the bathroom door. "You grumbled about bathroom, but we have a bathtub that I think you'll like it."

You hasn't been in the bathroom since you came and now you saw the tub, feeling relieved.

"That's more like it."

Once the two of you were in the bathroom, Javi closed the door behind you, turned on the tap, and put the drain cork in the tub. You were watching him pour the bubble bath solution into the running water. As the tub filled, you took off your necklace and earrings, putting on the cabinet.

Javi was right behind you, slipped the straps of your dress and running his lips on your shoulder, you giggled as his mustache tickled a little. Then you turned to him and kissed. As the kiss deepened, you wrapped your arms around his neck tightly while he was busy taking off your dress with his long fingers. Your hands slipped from his neck to his shirt to unbutton it one by one, in a minute, your dress dropping to the floor then his shirt.

And then your bra, Javi undid it and took it off, then with your help he got rid of his pants and underwear and kicked the piles of clothes into a corner of the bathroom.

The tub was fairly full, Javi shut off the tap. He stepped in first laid back at the edge of the tub, looking at you with desire.

“Come on baby,” he licked his lips as he invites you in.

“Looks fun,” you giggled and settled into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

His wet hands were on your waist, on your shoulders, covering you with bubbles, rubbing gently, it felt so good.

Bubbles let your skin slide effortlessly against his so he pulled you closer, that made you brush against his cock, and he let out a moan of pleasure. Smiling at his mouth, you repeated the motion, teasing him.

You love when he moans.

He was so close to your entrance yet not inside, the bubbly water making everything feel slippery. But you wanted him so badly so you reached down and grabbed his cock and let it sliding inside. He moaned, grabbed your hips thrust up and pushes you down.

He grinned at your moan. "You love it.”

“I never said I didn’t,” you were panting. “And, I love the way you feel inside me Javi,” you barely whispered, he feels your warm breathe against his ear that makes turn him on more.

“I like the feeling of being inside of you, too, baby,” he purred and slid out of you then thrust deeply up into you, making you moan with great pleasure.

You moved against each other in a practiced rhythm, knowing each others' bodies well enough now that they didn't need to speak much. He pulled you down hard against him when he came same time with you, both moaning loud. You were sure the two of you were sloshing water out onto the floor now, but you didn't care.

He kissed you as sitting you sideways in his lap and leaning you into his strong chest.

Then just looked down at you, smiling. “I love you baby.”

“Love you too Javi.”

‘Y/N, cariño?’

Javi's worried voice suddenly woke you up. When you opened your eyes, you were gasping for breath, you couldn't understand why.

Javi put his hand on your cheek and leaned over you, his brow furrowed and his brown eyes looking very concerned.

'What, what happened?’

'Well, you were delirious, did you have a bad dream?

'Yeah?' Suddenly the dream just came back to you.

'Never mind, it was just a nightmare,' you said with a half smile.

‘Do you want to tell me about it?’

You sighed deeply.

'Well, a man had a gun to my head and you rushed to save me, but...' You swallowed. 'You didn't make it.’

Javi sighed and ran his nose through your hair, then kissed your forehead.

‘That will never happen, no one can hurt you, just try to forget what happened, please.’

‘I know, it's just a stupid dream.’

Suddenly your stomach growled and you felt so embarrassed, Javi laughed.

‘Let's get up, dad's probably already awake,' he kissed you again and got up to get dressed.

Sitting on the bed, you having a poker face because you were still in the grip of the dream, didn’t want him to worry.

When he left the room, you went to the bathroom and splashed water on your face hard. As you looked at your face in the mirror, you promised yourself that you would leave the stupid dream behind and try to live in the moment.

As you opened the bathroom door, you heard a woman's voice, walked to the living room, you saw a tall, middle-aged woman with curly dark brown hair hugging Javi.

As soon as she saw you, her mouth fell open.

‘Jesus,’ she raised her hands as she came towards you and immediately hugged you tightly, ignoring your flinch, then pulled her head back to study your face in detail.

‘What a beauty, no wonder why Javi rejected the girls I’ve arranged.’ she giggled, squeezing your shoulders gently, it was hard to tell if she was scolding or admiring.

You felt your face flush.

‘Tía,’ Javi whined.

‘Leave the girl alone Sofia,’ Chucho muttered.

‘Are you Javi's aunt?’ your soft voice sounded like a ringing, and the woman once again looked at you in amazement.

You held yourself from laughing.

‘Sí, cariño,’ she smirked. ‘And you must be the reason that kept Javi in Colombia all this time.’

Well she had a point.

‘Except the cartels,’ Chucho murmured, sipping his coffee.

‘Okay that's enough, come on baby, eat something,’ Javi grabs your hand and pulled you away from his aunt.

He pulled out a chair and sat you down quickly, you smiled shyly.

‘Why don't you guys come round for dinner tomorrow?’ Sophia suddenly asked.

Javi and his dad ignored her but you looked at her curiously. Javi put bacon on your plate blinked at you.

‘Javi, after Danny's wedding you didn't come to our house even once, you went to Colombia all of sudden. Please come round for dinner tomorrow night, Danny will be there with his wife too,’ she said as she clasped his hands together.

Javi rolled his eyes at her and then looked at you, taking your nod without speaking.

‘Okay, we'll be there,’ he said and shoved the whole piece of bacon in your mouth.

‘Eat up baby,’ he laughed at the look on your face.

‘Great, I have to go and tell Bruno right away,’ she said happily and kissed you on the cheek, almost made you choking on the bacon.

“You coming too Chucho?” she turned to him.

“You invite me for dinner? I'll be damned.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Don’t be so dramatic, hermano,” then she looked at you and Javi smiling. “See you tomorrow, cariños.”

She was mumbling something happily as she hurried off the porch.

‘Excuse my aunt,’ Javi said turning to you. ‘We won't go if you don't want us to.’

You swallowed the bacon and shook your head no. ‘No, we said we'd go, we have to go, they're your relatives.’

Javi smiled and nodded.

The next evening, while you were in the room getting ready for dinner, Javi opened the door and came in.

‘You don't need so much make-up, you're already so beautiful,’ he looking at you in the mirror.

‘Well I'm a bit nervous, if they don't like me-’

‘As if such a thing was possible,’ he leaned against the dresser, crossing his arms, watching you with a smile as you brushing your hair.

You turned your eyes to him, he was wearing a plaid shirt and jeans, his hair was combed as usual and the brown of his eyes was perfect as always. He was the one who didn't need prepare himself.

He was beautiful.

‘Why are you blushing,’ his hand caressed your cheek.

Am I?

Every time you looked at him you wondered how he could affect you as much as the first time you saw him. And how could you love him more and more every day, was such a thing even possible?

When he frowned and looked at you, you smiled to yourself, being with him, being in his life was priceless.

‘If you don't feel well, we should-’

You shut him by kissing him.

‘Let's go.’

It was evening when you arrived at Javi's aunt's house, not far away. She greeted you enthusiastically on the porch, her husband was just as excited. He was a man of medium height, a little overweight, very cheerful. Javi was holding your hand tightly as you entered the house, but his aunt overpowered him and grabbed you by shoulder and dragged you inside for a quick tour of the house.

Their house was bigger than Chucho's, two stories, with a large porch and wide garden.

With her son and daughter-in-law arrived, she invited you to the table. It was very elaborate, so much food, there were even some dishes you have never seen before.

“What a lovely house,” you said, smiling.

“Ah, thank you, is your home back in Colombia like this? I wonder what it's like,” she handed you a plate of salad.

“Yes, sort of,” you said, taking some on your plate, of course your house was bigger, but you had no intention of saying that.

“What city have you lived in Colombia?” this time her daughter-in-law asked.

“Cali.”

“Ah, Javi, you were stationed there too, right? How did you two meet anyway?”

Javi and you looked at each other, you knew this question was coming but never thought about how to answer it correctly.

“At the bar.”

“At the bar.”

You both surprised and smiled at each other.

“Aren't they lovely, darling?”

Her husband shook his head as yes so busy with eating meanwhile.

“What about your parents, have they come here too or did you-”

“For fucks sake,” Chucho grumbled. “Let the girl eat something. You invite her to eat or interrogate her?”

After dinner, when they were serving drinks, his aunt asked you about other things, but luckily you were able to handle it.

God, she asked a lot.

 Eventually it got late, time to leave

"There's a wedding party at Friday night, downtown, will you be there?" she asked suddenly as you walking out the door with Javi. "It’s Enrique, Javi, you know him since childhood."

She said to Javi, but her eyes were on you.

"Well, if Javi wants to," you looked at his face, he was definitely reluctant but he didn't want to be nagged by his aunt.

"Well, we'll be there, I guess, thanks for inviting us tía," he said, grabs you by the shoulders and leading you away from his aunt with crooked smile.

"Great, everyone will be there, I can't wait to see their faces when they realize what a beautiful lady you are with," she giggled mischievously from behind you as you approaching the car.

The tone of her voice changed when she says that everyone but you didn't care. Maybe she meant that everyone will be staring at you so warns you to watch your back.

"I thought no one here would act like I’m the daughter of someone important," you said, pursing your lips, "I wanted to be ordinary, invisible."

Javi giggled. "It's impossible to be invisible with such beauty, hermosa."

He bent his head and kissed you, his father glancing in the rearview mirror and smirked, you flushed with shame.

----------- All episodes here --------------

[kaces-graham-crackers]

Steps of a Midnight Waltz - Halloween Special

Jenna Ortega x Reader

Summary: When Jenna invites you to an exclusive masquerade hosted by one of her famous friends, you expect a night of glamour and mystery—but not like this. Surrounded by ghostly guests and forced to relive a stranger’s tragic love story, the two of you must uncover the truth before the clock strikes midnight…or risk being trapped in their world forever.

Word Count: 4.5k

The soft hum of the television filled the living room, casting flickers of light across the walls. You and Jenna lay comfortably on the couch, limbs entangled in a way that felt second nature after three years together. It was one of those rare nights where neither of you had obligations pulling you away, and you’d settled into the rhythm of your lazy evening routine. You’d made dinner, and she’d attempted to surprise you with dessert—though the slightly charred edges hinted she might have gotten distracted.

She handed you a dish with a sheepish grin. “Hey, it’s the thought that counts.”

“Definitely,” you smirked, pulling her close for a quick kiss. “But we might need some whipped cream to help with the taste.”

Jenna rolled her eyes, swatting your arm before resting her head against your shoulder, exhaling a contented sigh. This felt like everything you’d worked hard for—a cozy house you could call home, where she could crash after long filming days, away from prying eyes. She even had her own set of keys, a secret most people didn’t know. Just her way of slipping in and out unnoticed, something that amazed you considering her popularity. Sure, fan mail sometimes found its way to your doorstep, and the paparazzi occasionally loitered around your neighborhood, but inside these walls, it was just you and Jenna.

The two of you had just finished watching the latest episode of some murder mystery show when Jenna’s phone buzzed. She glanced at it, her brows furrowing slightly as she sat up.

“What’s up?” you asked, shifting so you could look over her shoulder.

“It’s Percy,” she murmured, showing you the message. Percy Hynes White—a close friend from the Wednesday set. “He’s inviting us to some Halloween masquerade party in the hills.”

Your eyebrows rose. “A masquerade party? Isn’t that a little… theatrical?”

She chuckled, tilting her head in thought. “Percy always did have a flair for the dramatic. He says it’s exclusive, just a handful of his close friends and some others from the industry.”

You took a breath, considering. Halloween was always a fun excuse to get dressed up, but something about the invitation felt… different. “Exclusive in what way?”

Jenna shrugged, but her eyes gleamed with intrigue. “He says it’ll be unforgettable, that he pulled some strings to make it really immersive. Maybe it’s some kind of performance thing?”

You glanced at the message again, Percy’s words echoing in your mind: Dress to impress, but don’t look too closely under the mask.

Jenna leaned into you, her eyes sparking with a hint of mischief. “Come on, it could be fun. Plus, it’s been a while since we did something different for Halloween.”

You grinned, nudging her shoulder. “Alright, but if this turns into some horror-movie experience, I’m blaming you.”

Halloween night came swiftly as you both got ready rather quickly, ready for whatever the night brought you both. Jenna appeared from her room, adjusting her mask delicately as she walked toward you. She was dressed in a midnight blue gown that shimmered under the low lights, hugging her form and flowing elegantly with each step. Her dark hair was swept back, revealing a pair of sparkling earrings, and the way her mask accentuated her eyes left you completely mesmerized. The faint smirk tugging at the corners of her lips told you she noticed your reaction, and she lingered just a bit longer, letting you drink in every detail.

“Close your mouth,” she teased, her voice a soft whisper as she reached for your hand, the warmth of her fingers pulling you out of your daze.

You couldn’t help but smile, shaking your head slightly. “You’re one to talk.” You glanced down at yourself, taking in your outfit—a well-tailored ensemble that hit the balance between formal and comfortable, a layered look that was sharp and understated, yet eye-catching in its simplicity. Jenna’s eyes swept over you with an approving look that made your pulse quicken.

“Shall we?” you asked, offering your arm with a grin that felt a little too wide, a little too proud.

She took it, her hand light on your forearm as she gave a playful nod. “Lead the way.”

With one last look at each other, you stepped out together, ready to face whatever the night had in store.

The drive through the winding hills of Los Angeles felt endless, the road narrowing as you ventured further from the city lights. Jenna was next to you, her fingers laced with yours, a mixture of excitement and curiosity glinting in her eyes. The invitation had given you an address, but no further instructions, and the closer you got, the quieter it became, the distant sounds of the city fading into an eerie silence. Even the moon seemed hidden behind a veil of clouds, casting a dim, otherworldly glow over the road.

When you finally pulled up to the entrance of a sprawling estate, there was no doubt this was the place. Large iron gates, illuminated by the soft glow of lanterns, opened before you, as if expecting your arrival. Beyond the gates, a grand mansion loomed, its silhouette stark against the night sky, ivy curling around the dark stone facade. It looked like something from another era, timeless and haunting.

Jenna squeezed your hand, her eyes gleaming beneath her delicate mask. You could feel her anticipation as you reached the grand staircase leading to the entrance, the sound of distant music drifting through the thick wooden doors. A sense of excitement buzzed between you, but something else lingered in the air—an unspoken feeling of unease.

“Ready?” she asked, glancing up at you with a grin that held a hint of mischief.

You returned the smile, adjusting your own mask. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

The doors opened with a low creak, and you stepped into a dimly lit hall, chandeliers casting warm golden light across the marble floors. The scent of old wood, wax, and something faintly floral hung in the air, inviting yet oddly unfamiliar. Around you, figures in elaborate costumes and masks mingled, their faces hidden beneath intricate designs of lace and feathers, jewels catching the light.

Jenna looped her arm through yours, her eyes roaming the room. “This is amazing,” she whispered, her gaze taking in the rich details—the polished wood paneling, the velvet curtains, the shadows that seemed to flicker at the edge of the room, as if watching.

You wandered through the room together, and as you moved, you noticed the guests were unusually quiet, their voices barely above a murmur. Some stood in groups, exchanging hushed words, while others seemed lost in their own world, dancing to the hauntingly beautiful melody echoing through the halls. It felt like stepping into another time, where the past lingered just beneath the surface.

Percy spotted you from across the room and made his way over, dressed in a black suit with a silver mask that covered half his face. His eyes glinted with a knowing look as he greeted Jenna, pulling her into a quick hug before turning to you.

“You made it,” he said, his tone almost too casual, as though he’d expected you all along. He gave a slight nod to Jenna, his voice low. “I’m glad you could come. This place has… a certain charm, doesn’t it?”

You nodded, glancing around. “It feels like we’ve walked into a dream—or maybe a ghost story.”

Percy chuckled, the sound soft and oddly distant. “You’re not far off. This place is full of memories. Just be careful what you wish for.” He gave you both a cryptic smile before blending back into the crowd.

You exchanged a look with Jenna, a shiver running down your spine at his words. There was something strange about the way he’d spoken, like he was in on a secret you weren’t privy to. But before you could dwell on it, Jenna’s hand tugged on yours, leading you toward the center of the room where a small group had begun to dance, swaying to the ethereal tune filling the hall.

As you began to waltz, Jenna’s eyes sparkled beneath her mask. She leaned in, her voice barely a whisper. “Feels like we���re in another world, doesn’t it?”

You nodded, but as you spun her, your gaze drifted across the room, and that’s when you noticed something peculiar—no one else seemed to blink. The other guests moved with a rhythmic grace, their faces hidden, yet they held an unsettling stillness, their eyes unblinking, expressions frozen. An eerie sensation crept over you as you watched a masked couple dance, their movements smooth but unnervingly mechanical, like they were moving on a loop.

“Jenna,” you whispered, pulling her a bit closer, “does anything feel… off to you?”

She tilted her head, her brows knitting together as she looked around. “Now that you mention it…” Her eyes narrowed, observing the room with newfound caution.

Just then, the music shifted, the tempo quickened, almost imperceptibly at first, but then it grew, urging the dancers around you to move faster. There was something unnatural about the pace, a feverish intensity that set your instincts on edge.

You shared a look with Jenna, an unspoken agreement passing between you both. Just as the other dancers’ movements grew frenzied, you stepped away from the floor, hand in hand, leaving the strange whirl of figures behind. With a steadying breath, you guided her toward the lavish refreshment table, hoping a drink might shake the creeping unease that had settled over the room. Jenna’s grip tightened on your hand, her gaze darting to yours with a spark of concern.

“Maybe we should—”

The air grew cold, and a collective whisper echoed through the hall, sending chills down your spine. The dancers froze mid-movement, their heads turning in unison to face you, eyes gleaming with a strange, unnatural light.

And then, almost as one, they resumed their dance, spinning and twirling. The sound of footsteps echoed behind you, and you turned to see Percy standing at a distance, watching with that same unsettling smile.

“What’s going on here?” you asked, your voice coming out as a strained whisper.

He shrugged, his eyes gleaming beneath his mask. “Sometimes, the past doesn’t stay buried. Sometimes, it comes back for those who walk in its shadow.”

A cold shiver ran down your spine as his words sank in. You glanced at Jenna, catching the flicker of unease in her eyes, and a silent understanding passed between you. Something was very wrong here, and you were caught in the middle of it.

You wandered through the crowd, each new step revealing odd inconsistencies that tugged at your instincts. The clock on the grand wall, gilded and majestic, ticked backward in quiet defiance. The ballroom mirrors reflected only fragments of the room, casting eerie angles of the scene but omitting people altogether. Occasionally, the live band’s music warped and echoed, like it was playing from a distant place, the sound bending just enough to send shivers up your spine.

As you both sipped your drinks, Jenna leaned in close, her voice hushed. “Have you noticed?” She nodded toward the guests around you. They seemed lost in conversation, but the same words repeated over and over, as if the entire scene was caught in a loop.

Before you could respond, a woman in an elegant mask leaned close, her voice soft but brimming with urgency. “It’s almost midnight,” she whispered. “You’ll want to take your places.” And before you could question her, she melted back into the crowd, leaving you and Jenna alone with her cryptic warning.

The masked host's voice boomed across the room, drawing every eye to the center of the grand ballroom. With a flourish, he held up a delicate glass, commanding the attention of his guests. "Ladies and gentlemen, tonight, you are not merely observers—you are participants! The midnight waltz shall reenact a tale of love and loss, bound by fate and preserved through time."

The crowd murmured, intrigued, and the host’s gaze lingered on you and Jenna. He gestured toward the both of you, his eyes glinting beneath his ornate mask. "Our main players, our lovers—these two shall carry the heart of tonight’s story."

You exchanged a glance with Jenna, a strange sense of connection sparking between you. Before either of you could respond, attendants appeared, offering you each an item. Jenna was handed a simple, elegant locket—a piece that felt surprisingly familiar, almost as though it was meant to be hers. For you, it was a worn leather-bound journal, its edges frayed and soft with age.

“These,” the host continued, “are yours alone, to aid in your journey. Cherish them well.”

The moment your fingers brushed the journal, a strange, unexplainable warmth spread through your hand, as though it held secrets woven through time. Jenna’s fingers traced the locket, her eyes glancing up at you, a look of bewilderment on her face that mirrored your own.

As you returned to the center of the ballroom, the host’s voice echoed through the room. “Embrace the story, become the lovers, and perhaps—just perhaps—you shall unravel the truth bound within.” He lifted his glass high, and the crowd followed suit, toasting to the night’s mystery.

In your search for answers, you managed to slip away to a secluded area, whispering urgently about the strange inconsistencies you’d both noticed.

“This is way too weird,” Jenna mutters, glancing back at the eerily synchronized dancers. “None of this feels right.”

You nod, gripping her hand tightly as you both approach the grand entry doors. “Let’s just leave,” you whisper.

As you push against the door, an unsettling realization hits you—your hands don’t even make contact. It’s as if an invisible force is keeping you at bay. You try again, pushing harder, pulling, but nothing works.

“What’s going on?” Jenna’s voice shakes slightly, and you can see the worry flickering in her eyes.

You shake your head, trying to stay calm. “It’s like… there’s a barrier.”

A heavy silence falls as the panic begins to rise, your hearts racing as you look at each other, silently questioning your next move. But then, footsteps echo behind you.

“Going somewhere?” a voice asks lightly. You turn to see Percy smiling, his gaze too knowing, his presence almost smug.

You glare at him, frustration and fear mingling. “What the hell is going on, Percy?” you demand, stepping forward. “What kind of game is this?”

“Game?” He raises an eyebrow, his smile growing wider. Before your eyes, his features change—his eyes darkening, his skin taking on an unnatural pallor as he shifts into a figure far older, with a sinister, regal presence.

You feel a chill run down your spine as he adjusts his collar, seeming unfazed by your reaction. “Convincing, wasn’t it?” he says, that smirk never leaving his face.

Jenna steps closer to you, her fingers tightening around yours. “We’re not playing your game,” she says, her voice cold, steady.

“Oh, but you are.” He gestures to the ballroom, where guests begin removing their masks, revealing twisted, decaying faces beneath. Ghostly forms, eyes vacant and flesh rotting, continue their dances as if unaware of their grotesque states.

“These guests… they’ve been here for centuries, driven by jealousy. This masquerade began as a prank, a cruel game played on two lovers who were envied for their devotion,” he explains. “But it went too far, ending in their deaths. In their rage, the lovers cursed this place, trapping their tormentors and any unfortunate soul who happens upon it.”

Jenna glances at you, dread dawning in her eyes as the host leans closer, a chilling satisfaction in his voice. “To escape, you must reenact their story. Relive their romance, their tragedy. There are three phases—two guided by the artifacts and memories left behind, but the final phase… well, that’s where all the others have failed. The midnight waltz—their final dance together. Complete it, and the curse is broken.”

You swallow, barely able to find your voice. “And if we don’t…?”

He smiles, stepping back as the ghastly figures drift around you. “Then you become part of the masquerade, like all the others, decaying one slow night at a time.”

The realization weighs heavily on you both as he fades back into the shadows, leaving you surrounded by cursed souls and an impossible task ahead.

The grotesque figures around you move in mechanical loops, whispering fragments of conversations that echo as if from another time. The midnight waltz, a doomed love, the need to break free—it all blurs together, and you can feel the walls of the ballroom closing in, the air heavy with the weight of centuries-old despair.

Jenna’s fingers tighten around yours, grounding you. “We’re getting out of here,” she says, her voice low but unwavering. The strength in her tone cuts through the haze of fear clouding your mind, giving you a renewed sense of determination.

You make your way back to the main hall, hand in hand. The first artifact is on display: a delicate, tarnished locket resting on an antique table, its chain coiled like a serpent around the pendant. You can almost feel its significance, the weight of the story woven into its metal.

Jenna picks it up, turning it over in her hands. “There’s something inscribed here,” she murmurs, squinting at the faint etchings. Together, you decipher the words: Bound beyond time, bound beyond death.

You exchange a glance, both feeling the eerie chill of those words sink in. “It must have symbolized their bond,” you say, voice barely above a whisper. “Their promise to each other.”

Jenna’s brow furrows as she looks at you, a flicker of hesitation crossing her face. “Are you saying we… we have to recreate that?”

You nod slowly, realizing that this isn’t just about physical tokens—it’s about re-enacting the emotions, the vows, the essence of the couple’s love. “It’s not forever,” you say, holding her gaze. “But maybe… just for tonight, we need to follow the steps.”

Taking a deep breath, she slips the locket around her neck. The moment it clasps, a strange warmth fills the room, and for a brief moment, the faded grandeur of the ballroom sharpens, as if it’s been restored to its former glory. The guests around you pause, their eyes glinting with a ghostly awareness, and the haunting music softens into a gentle melody.

You reach for Jenna’s hand, repeating the locket’s words together, Bound beyond time, bound beyond death. It’s a strange, almost surreal moment, and as the words leave your lips, you’re hit with a wave of emotions—flashes of memories that don’t belong to you. A hidden garden under moonlight, whispered promises, stolen glances. It’s the love story of two people who loved deeply and died too soon.

The vision fades, and you’re left breathless, the reality of the ballroom returning, though now the locket is glowing faintly around Jenna’s neck, signaling the completion of the first phase.

“One down,” Jenna murmurs, a shaky but determined smile on her lips.

But as you glance around, you realize the ballroom’s cursed guests have taken notice, their ghostly forms edging closer, their hollow eyes fixed on the two of you with a mixture of envy and hunger. The first phase has stirred something within them, a reminder of the love and life they can no longer possess.

With a renewed urgency, you turn to the next artifact: a worn leather-bound journal, resting on a pedestal in the corner of the room. Its cover is cracked and faded, as though it’s been handled countless times, and you can almost feel the weight of its history as you pick it up. The journal, you sense, holds the heart of the couple’s tragedy.

Jenna leans over your shoulder as you open the book, its yellowed pages filled with fragments of thoughts, scrawled notes, and images. It’s a scattered, chaotic testament to their love and the jealousy that surrounded it. Some words are scratched out violently, others rewritten with fervor. Over and over, certain phrases leap out: betrayal, envy, forever.

Your fingers trace the words, absorbing the story that unfolds. The lovers had found solace in each other, hidden from prying eyes, but were ultimately torn apart by the envy of those who could not bear their happiness. And in their final moments, they had written their last vows in this journal, hoping their love would survive, even if they could not.

Jenna’s fingers skim a passage near the end. In the midnight waltz, we found each other anew, becoming one, bound beyond envy, beyond fear. She looks at you, a sense of understanding in her gaze. “The waltz was their key… their way of defying the curse.”

You nod, feeling the intensity of the moment settle over you. “If we can complete it, maybe… maybe it’ll break the curse.”

But before you can speak further, a low whisper fills the air. The host has reappeared, his face cracked and ghastly, a ghostly grin stretching across his face. “Close,” he murmurs, his voice an eerie, mocking echo. “But remember, the waltz must be flawless. Fail… and you become one of us.”

The masked guests begin to unmask fully, revealing hollow, decaying faces, their eyes dark and empty. You realize they were just like you, attempting to escape and failing, cursed to haunt the ballroom forever.

Jenna’s hand tightens around yours, her jaw set with determination. “We’re not failing.”

Together, you take to the center of the ballroom. The final phase is upon you, and the music swells, filling the room with a haunting melody. You hold each other, positioning yourselves to begin the midnight waltz, the final act in the story.

As you sway to the rhythm, following the clues in the journal, the air grows thick, almost tangible with the memories of the lovers’ final moments. Each step is a reenactment of their love, each turn a testament to their devotion. It’s as though you and Jenna are slipping into their roles completely, becoming extensions of their story, living their emotions, their desperation to break free.

The guests murmur, the clock strikes closer to midnight, and you both quicken your pace. The music guides you, but something feels… wrong. The room seems to close in, and you can sense the host watching, waiting for a single mistake.

As the final chime rings out, you find yourself faltering, a sudden sense of dread washing over you. Jenna stumbles, but you catch her, your arms wrapping around her, steadying her.

“This isn’t their ending,” you say, voice firm, defiant. “We’re not bound to their fate.”

In a moment of clarity, you realize the way to break the curse isn’t to follow their tragic path but to reject it. Instead of finishing the dance, you pull away from Jenna, breaking the final pose. She follows suit, her eyes wide with understanding.

“No!” the host’s voice echoes, his face contorted with rage. The guests begin to wail, their figures blurring and fading as the room shakes, the walls cracking, the ceiling starting to crumble.

Hand in hand, you and Jenna turn and run toward the grand doors, which swing open before you. You burst out into the cold night air, the mansion collapsing behind you. The sounds of wailing and cries echo as the walls crumble into dust, the ballroom fading into nothingness.

Breathing heavily, you and Jenna look at each other, the weight of what just happened sinking in. You reach the car, slipping inside, Jenna’s hand clutching yours tightly. She’s shaking slightly, but her eyes hold a glint of relief, mixed with disbelief.

As you drive away, leaving the cursed estate in the rearview mirror, you glance at each other, a silent understanding passing between you. The mansion is gone, but a part of you wonders if the shadows of that night will ever fully leave.

When you glance back one final time, you see faint silhouettes in the windows, figures waving. You can’t tell if it’s a farewell or a warning, but as the city lights come into view, you turn your gaze forward, leaving the midnight waltz—and its ghosts—behind.

The weight of the night settled over you as you drove back toward the city, silence stretching between you and Jenna, punctuated only by the quiet hum of the car engine. The experience had left an indelible mark, a lingering tension woven into every stolen glance and shared breath.

Jenna finally broke the silence, her voice barely above a whisper. “Do you think… we actually got out?”

You hesitated, the question hanging heavy in the air. “I don’t know,” you admitted, your fingers instinctively tightening around the wheel. “But we’re here. Together. That has to mean something, right?”

She nodded slowly, though the uncertainty lingered in her eyes. For a while, neither of you spoke, each lost in the events that had unfolded in that cursed ballroom.

The familiar city lights gradually began to replace the eerie glow of the mansion, grounding you both back into the present. The reality of life outside those doors returned with the first streetlight that passed over you, illuminating Jenna’s face with a warmth and familiarity that finally eased some of the tension in your chest.

As you pulled into your driveway, the house stood as a reassuring sight—its warm lights a stark contrast to the haunting shadows you’d left behind. When the car came to a stop, you exhaled, feeling the grip of that midnight world finally starting to release you.

Jenna unclasped her seatbelt and turned to you, a small, weary smile tugging at her lips. “Let’s go inside.”

Together, you climbed out of the car, and as you stepped through the doorway, you felt the final remnants of the night’s dread fall away, replaced by a familiar comfort. You locked the door behind you, the soft click echoing in the quiet house.

She reached for your hand, pulling you gently toward the living room. Settling back onto the couch, limbs entwined, it was as though nothing had changed at all—as though the night’s horrors had merely been a dream.

But as Jenna’s fingers laced through yours, her head resting against your shoulder, you could feel the strength in her grip, the weight of everything you’d both just survived. And despite the questions that lingered, there was a peace that began to settle between you, a sense that, whatever shadows may still linger, they couldn’t touch you here.

As you drifted into the comfort of each other’s arms, the clock on the wall chimed softly in the distance, marking midnight. For a moment, a chill swept through the room, a final reminder of the midnight world you’d escaped.

But then, Jenna’s fingers traced a small circle on your palm, grounding you both. The warmth of her touch dissolved any lingering doubts, and you let yourself sink into the quiet safety of the present, leaving the echoes of that haunted waltz to fade into memory.

[gwen-pierce]

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz

Gwendolyn’s watch vibrated against her wrist as she pounded her feet against the treadmill. Glancing down at its face, she sighed at the name illuminating the screen. Twice in one week? Fuck. Muting the episode of Love Island she had on tv and lowering her speed down to a slow walk, she grabbed her phone out of the cupholder and answered the call on speaker.

“Hi, daddy.” She sang cheerfully, though slightly out of breath. Concern laced her father’s tone as he replied.

“Are you okay, sweetheart? You sound…unwell.”

“I’m fine. Just on the treadmill. What do I owe the pleasure?” Getting to the point, Gwen grabbed her towel from hanging off the handrail and patted at the sweat lining her brow.

“Brooke isn’t feeling well.” Gregory began and she had to bite her tongue from demanding to know what that had to do with her. Whatever it was, she knew it wasn’t going to be good. Especially if her father chose to take the time to call instead of text. There wasn’t going to be any way out of this one. “She was my plus one for the Alumni Board Silent Auction tonight.”

“And you want me to go with you?” Gwen nearly choked on the words as she spat them out, her vision starting to dance with stars. Anxiety, fear, and rage gripped at her throat and she choked on it. Unable to speak, unable to come up with any excuse why she couldn’t make the event. She shook her head, even though her father couldn’t see her. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. He had invited her and she was going. That was that.

“Well, you are an alumnus yourself, Gwendolyn, and you haven’t shown your face since graduation. People want to see you. You’re a huge part of the school’s history. You know the team hasn’t been to a championship since your captaincy?” Yes. She knew. It was him who didn’t know why. No one knew. When she didn’t respond, he continued. “I’ll have a car to pick you up at 5:30.”

-----

They were on their second lap of the room when Gwen felt his eyes on her. Even after nearly six years she recognized it instantly. The feeling of his eyes crawling all over her, making her skin prickle. The heat from it that sucked the air from her lungs, suffocating her. Her eyes darted around the room and she marked every exit, every escape, as Richard Hill made his way across the room and directly towards her.

“Gregory! And Gwen!” He called cheerfully as her old volleyball coach closed the gap between them and clapped her father on the shoulder. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes? What a treat to have you join us!” Richard pulled her in for a hug and her body stiffened in his embrace. He lingered there and she knew what he was doing. Breathing in her shampoo. Gwen’s vision blurred and she had to blink a few times to clear the fog.

“I’m sure you two have a lot of catching up to do so I’ll leave you to it. I want to go get my bid for the Bora Bora trip, it’ll make Brooke feel better if I come home with a gift.” Gregory winked at Richard as if they shared some secret joke about the nuances of women while Gwen fought the urge to scream at her dad not to leave her. When she finally found her voice again, he was already gone.

“You really have grown up quite nicely, haven’t you, Gwendolyn?” Her old coach’s voice dropped to a purr, so quiet that no one in the hustle and bustle of the event would overhear as he moved closer to Gwen, his hand grazing over her hip in a way that any outsider would consider nonchalant and he used to the touch to guide them towards the outskirts of the crowd. She had no choice but to follow or risk making a scene.

“Haven’t you missed me?” His words whispered so close to her ear was like ice down her spine, his hand snaking from her waist over the curve of her backside. She went rigid, stopped walking entirely. Not this time. Not again. Never again. She wasn’t a little girl anymore and the power she thought Richard Hill had held over for so long was nothing but an illusion. Turning to face him, her gaze as hard as the steel walls his abuse had caused her to erect around herself, Gwen stared directly into his eyes.

“No.” She used his stunned silence at her defiance to make a break for it. As fast as she could without drawing too much attention to herself, Gwen half walked, half jogged to the closest exit, the one she had marked upon her initial arrival and fled down the stairwell. Her heart was thumping as loud her echoed footsteps but she didn’t stop until she had burst through the double doors into the lobby of the building. It wasn’t until she stopped to catch her breath that she realized she had started crying and she had no idea what to do next.

It could have been minutes, hours, seconds, or even days before she decided what to do next. With shaking hands, she pulled her phone from her purse. She opened her latest text thread and called the contact from there. They answered on the third ring. Gwen didn’t even say hello as her voice came out strangled and tearful. “Can you come pick me up?”

[sweatervest-obsessed]

In Your Dreams, Whatever They Be - Part 2

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader (she/her)

WC: 11,789

TW: allusions to death, death, guns, knives, weaponry, kissing, making out, teen angst, stressful situations, demo bats? blood, crying, so much crying, nightmares, allusions to mature content, comas, really anything in Stranger Things is in here because I followed the last two episodes pretty closely.

A/N: Part 2 baby!!! I hope yall really like it. I had to cut some things out because I realized that if I wanted to sleep and be okay with this as my final draft, then things that the reader isn't a part of. doesn't really get told in this fic. (angsty, with some fluff at the end for your troubles of making it through the angst.)

Part One !

You had cried on and off for almost three hours. It wasn’t on purpose, truly, but you just couldn’t help yourself. Once you had managed to move enough, Steve helped you through the gate, before diving through on his own. The entire group was crowding around you trying to see if you were okay, but they just made it worse. 

Max watched from the side. Eventually, she had enough and screamed at all of them to back off. She took your hand and brought you into what you assumed to be Max’s room, holding out a hand to stop Steve from following the both of you in there. 

“I’ll come get you in a minute, Harrington.” She grumbled before shutting the door behind her. 

Everyone tried to crowd around the door, attempting to listen in on what the two girls had to say to one another. No one felt comfortable leaving the only two people to have been cursed, alone, but it’s not like they had a choice. 

The second the door was shut, Max was on you—arms wrapped snugly around your waist, face buried into your chest, tears quietly streaming out of her eyes. She had lost Billy, and then  she had almost lost you. Your tears started up again just at the thought. 

You eventually had made her sit down on the ground with you, your leg was bugging you and if you stood for much longer, you might have collapsed anyways. 

“What did you see?” she whispered, after the two of you sat together, holding one another. “Did you see Billy?” 

You nodded and bit your lip, letting out a shaky breath. “Yea. I watched it happen. Again. He made me watch as he killed him. ” 

Max just closed her eyes and held onto you tighter. You kissed her head and rubbed her shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere Max. I’m right here, alive.” 

She just shook her head, and after a moment, she peered up at you, eyes brimmed with tears. “They don’t…” She huffed. “They don’t get it. They don’t know.” 

You knew her pain. You knew that Steve was going to ask you about it. You knew he was going to try and comfort you. And you knew he just wouldn’t be able to. “I know.” 

You cracked a small, sardonic smile. “Well now we have another trauma in common. I’m sure your mother would love to have me back as your babysitter.” 

Max let out a little laugh, which was heard through the door. Everyone eavesdropping relaxed a little bit, knowing you two were comforting one another, but they still felt uneasy knowing that your leg needed to be looked at, and Max shouldn’t be without her headphones for too long. 

“You should yell at everyone for trying to listen in to our conversation.” You whispered, kissing her head one more time. 

Max smiled again but shook her head. “I want another minute of quiet.” She whispered, holding you tighter than before. You ran your hand over her back, letting her relax for the first time in days, with no one staring at her every move. You started to hum a little bit of Running Up That Hill to her, causing her to smile. 

After about seven and a half minutes of being kept out of the room you and Max were in, Steve was losing his mind again. He couldn’t see you and for all he knew the both of you were dead in the other room. Steve was also ignoring the amount of bloodloss that he had, choosing to focus more on the fact that you still being able to walk was a fucking miracle. If the bats had bitten off just about any more of your flesh, they would have hit vital nerves, causing permanent damage. 

“Dude. You need to relax. She’s fine Steve. I know you’re all freaked out and whatever, but she’s with Max right now, and Max deserves this break.” Robin piped up, watching him wear a hole into the carpet. 

“She needs to rest Robi–”

“We all need to rest Steve.” Nancy snapped before closing her eyes and exhaling. “Sorry. I’m sorry. But you panicking during the one moment when we actually can just breathe is going to make things worse.” 

She got up, and walked to the front end of the trailer, near the kitchenette and couch.

Dustin and Lucas turned to Steve. “What’s her problem?” 

“Mind your own business Dustin.” Eddie murmured, watching as Nancy watched Steve who was watching the door, who kept looking at Robin for reassurance while Robin was trying to keep an eye on the kids while also trying to keep Steve from freaking out over a closed door. Eddie had decided it was exhausting, and also walked towards the kitchen, trying to find some food to cook up for the gaggle of people in Max’s trailer.

Just as Steve was about to break down the door to Max’s bedroom, Max opened it, staring him down. “Come here Harrington.” 

He scoffed at Max and leaned in when she motioned too. She grabbed his shirt and pulled him right up to her face. “Don’t make her talk about what she saw for the next hour Harrington or I will skin you alive. And don’t do anything gross on my bed either. Got it?” 

Steve almost believed her. “Ye-Yeah Red. I got it, Geez.” 

She nodded and let go of his shirt, stepping to the side. “You may enter.”

Steve looked at Max before walking into the room. Max closed the door behind him, allowing the two of you to have some much deserved privacy for the first time since you had danced together in his backyard. 

You were sitting down on Max's bed, on top of the covers, and smiled at him.“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my favorite Doctor.”

Steve didn’t even respond to you. He just walked right up to you, and pulled you into a hug. Somehow, after almost paralyzing your leg, vomiting in the Upside Down, and being possessed by Vecna, you were now comforting a second person; if it was anyone else, you would have minded. But this was Steve, your Steve. His head was buried into your neck as he let out a sob, and you immediately pulled him as tightly as you could against your body. 

“Oh Stevie.” Mumbling into his hair, tears in your own eyes. 

“Fuck. I l-lost you. You–you–you were floating and I–” another sound passed through his lips. You could feel his tears run down your neck. “I thought—”

“But you didn’t lose me.” You cut him off, not wanting to hear the rest of his thoughts. 

Desperate to be closer to you, Steve pulled away slightly before coming back in and pressing his lips to yours. There was so much behind it, more than words could have ever described, and you kissed him back. The relief that flooded through his system, as you kissed back, as you pulled him impossibly closer with the vest. His hands were on your cheeks, trying to combine your body with his, intertwining the both of you for the rest of time. The need to feel every part of his body fueled you, as you deepened the kiss, biting his bottom lip, making a pretty sigh leave his pretty lips. Steve used one of his hands to snake around your back and push you into him. 

It was intense. 

You could feel yourself becoming dizzy from the lack of oxygen but you didn’t care. You wanted Steve’s hands on your body, you wanted to feel him on you, in you, around you. You needed to feel that he was as real just as badly as he needed to feel you. 

He pulled away slightly, your lips chasing his, both chests heaving. 

“Steve.” You silently whine, kissing him again, trying to get what you want. 

He kissed you back, ready to lean you back and fuck you right here.

But as he placed his hands on your waist, and pulled you against him, lips on your neck, your jaw, your leg hit against the frame of Max’s bedside table and you immediately pulled away and swore profusely into Steve’s shoulder, effectively ruining the moment, and shattering the reality that everything was fine. 

“Shit shit shit.” Steve pulled away, not fully sure what happened, but when he heard your muffled cries in his shoulder, he started to panic even more. “Baby what happened?” 

You just tried to calm your breathing down, choking down the rest of the tears threatening to find their way out. “I-I hit my leg on something.” 

Steve pulled away completely, and you let out a sound of resentment, along with some tears when he did. The loss of contact made everything ten times worse. 

“I need to get you all bandaged up, pretty girl.” He whispered, placing his hand on your other, healthier, not torn apart by demon bats, thigh. 

“It’s gonna fucking hurt Stevie. Can;t I just die from a blood infection instead?” You tried joking but it fell flat since the thought of you dying made him freeze up. “Sorry, bad timing, I’m sorry.” 

“It’s, It’s okay.” He whispered, watching as your chest rose and fell, reminding himself that he just kissed you, he felt your breath, you were alive. 

“Let's get this over with.” You muttered, grabbing one of the bottles off of Max’s night stand that Eddie had so kindly provided you with, taking a hefty swig of it before handing it to Steve. 

______________________________________________________

You had fallen asleep from exhaustion about five minutes after Steve had finished fixing you up, which was probably for the best since Steve just laid with you, holding you in his arms, and eventually getting about an hour’s worth of rest that he also deserved. 

But sleep was not a luxury you both could afford. Eventually Max was sent in, having drawn the short stick and now being forced to wake up the two worst people on the planet to wake up. She had tried whispering, and then tried speaking to you both, but Steve had just rolled over, managing to cover your ears in the process, subconsciously protecting you from the world of the awake. 

Finally, she shook Steve, who sat right up, almost whacking Max in the process. 

“What.” He grumbled, noticing how you groaned, stirring slightly at the lack of contact from Steve. 

“We have to figure out a plan.” Max sent him the most apologetic look she could, because she didn’t want to wake either of you up.

“Come’ere.” He wrapped an arm around Max, giving her a quick hug. She was a bit shocked at first, but didn’t pull away, not ready to admit she liked the comfort.” 

You had opened your eyes, seeing your two favorite people sharing a moment, and decided that it was your time to shine. “You trying to steal my girl Harringon.” You yawned out, stretching your arms in the process. 

Max laughed slightly, while Steve sent you a faux glare. 

“We’ll be ready in five Max, thank you.” You sent her a soft smile, eyeing her up and down quickly to make sure she was still okay, before the girl left the room, closing the door behind her.

“She has a lot of trust, believing that you won't just immediately fall back asleep.” Steve smirked as you closed your eyes again, head back on the pillow. 

“I’ll be so ready in five minutes, just you wait.” You mumbled, already half asleep. Steve placed a soft kiss on your lips, and you hummed in response. 

“Baby you have to get up. We have to talk about…” 

Your eyes shot open, his words bringing back everything Vecna had shown you. It would have impressed Steve how fast your walls went up, in a matter of seconds, if it didn’t concern him so much. 

“Okay.” You shepherd, sitting up on the bed. Steve had offered his hand, and gently helped you off the bed, very mindful of your leg. He helped you limp out of the bedroom, and onto the couch where everyone was waiting for you both. 

“Five minutes on the dot.” Eddie raised his eyebrows, all of them watching you and Steve, very aware of the injuries you both were sustaining. 

“I’m punctual Munson. Regardless of apocalypse scenarios.” You winked at him, as Steve took his place next to you on the couch, hand on your good thigh, not as interested in the harmless banter between you both. 

“I’m sorry, before we begin, when the fuck did that happen?” Dustin interrupted you before you could even open your mouth, staring at Steve’s hand on your thigh. “Did you even ask if you could officially date our favorite babysitter Steve?” 

Steve was actually slightly offended by that one. “I’m sorry Henderon, I don't remember asking you permission for my love life to continue, and second of all, I better be your favorite fucking babysitter after everything you’ve put me through.” 

Everyone could sense the thinly veiled threat, not one hundred percent sure Steve was joking, but you just rolled your eyes. “About a year Henderson. Is that all?” 

Dustin scrunched his eyes together, “He actually worked up the courage to a–”

It was your turn to interrupt Dustin. “No. I did. Any more questions or can we start the thing that made you wake me up.” 

Dustin made a face before looking over at Steve, slightly proud of him. 

“Let’s talk about it.” Nancy’s voice cut through the silence, looking at you. 

“Yeah.” You let out a shaky sigh before closing your eyes, Steve squeezing your thigh. “He-uh, showed me things that haven't happened yet. The most awful things.” 

You paused before continuing. “I saw a dark cloud spreading over Hawkins, downtown on fire, dead soldiers, and this giant creature with a gaping mouth, and this creature wasn't alone, there were so many monsters. An army. And they were coming into hawkins, into our neighborhoods, our homes, and then, he showed me my mom, holly, mike, and they, they were all…”

“–Okay but, he’s just trying to scare you, right, I mean, it’s not real.” Steve tried to interject, trying to make it better. 

You shook your head. “Not yet. But there, there was something else. He showed me gates, four gates, spreading across hawkins, and these gates, they looked like the ones outside of Eddie's trailer, but they didn’t stop growing. This wasn't the Upside Down Hawkins, this was our Hawkins, our home.” 

“Four chimes.” Max spoke up. “Vecna’s clock. It always chimes four times. Four exactly.”

“I heard them too.” You nodded.

“He’s been telling us his plan this whole time.” Max looked over at Lucas, terrified. 

“Four kills. Four gates. End of the world.” Lucas looked back at Max, equally scared.

“If that’s true, he’s only one kill away.” Dustin looked between you and Max, trying not to break. 

“Oh Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ.” Eddie just placed his hands in his face. 

“Try them again, try them again.” Nancy spoke up, looking over at Max, hoping to god the other half of their group would finally be by the phone. 

Max tried the phone, waiting, hoping, but the busy signal beeped and Max hung up the phone.

“Anything?” Dustin asked, staring at the phone. 

“No. Rang a few times and went to a busy signal.”

“Maybe you punched it in wrong–Try again.”  Steve leaned forward, placing his hands near his mouth. 

“I didn’t punch it in wrong.”

“Well, I don’t know.” Steve bickered back at Max.

“Dude, I think she knows how to use a phone.” Dustin rolled his eyes at Steve. 

“I’m just saying she could’ve typed it wrong.”. 

“Steve. Not helpful.” You hit his arm lightly, signaling him to cut it out. 

Max tried the number again before hanging up after a couple of rings. “Same shit.” 

“How is that possible?” Lucas just stared at the phone

“I told you, Joyce has this telemarketer job. Always on the phone. Mike wont stop whining about it..” Dustin sighed, starting to pace again. 

“Okay yeah. But this phone’s been busy for, what, three days now? That’s not Joyce. No way, something’s wrong.” Max looked at you, trying to get some support. 

“She’s right. It can’t be just coincidence, it can’t be.” And you gave it to her, agreeing. 

“Whatever's happening in Lenora is connected to all of this. I’m sure of it.” Nancy nodded at both you and Max.  “But Venca can’t hurt them, not if he’s dead.” 

She looked over at you, and you ran a hair through your hair, sighing, prepping for the argument that you were about to start. “Nance is right. We have to go back in there, back to the Upside Down.”

“Woah, No, no, no, no, no.” Steve stood up between you and Nancy, looking between the both of you. 

Eddie just kept repeating “Nope.” Over and over again. 

“No no, let's think this through–” Steve tried to reason with the both of you.

“What is there to think through!” Nancy argued back at him. 

Steve gestured to you. “We barely made it out of there in one piece.” Which caused a flicker of anger to pass across your face. 

“Yeah because we weren’t prepared.” You fully stood up, crossing your arms at Steve. 

“But this time, we will be. We’ll get weapons and protection.” Nancy huffed indignantly. “We’ll go through the gate, we’ll find his layer, and we’ll kill him.”

Steve didn’t know what was happening but he did not enjoy both you and Nancy teaming up against him at this moment. Eddie was just shaking his head over and over and over. “Or he’ll kill us.”

“The only reason Y/N survived is because he wanted her to. He’s not scared of us.” Steve shot back. 

“And for good reason.” Robin finally spoke, standing up. “We were wrong about Vecna. Henry. One–sorry, what are we calling him now?” Her panic was taking over. 

Both Dustin and Lucas said One, while Erica said Vecna, while you and Nancy said Henry, all at the same time, completely overwhelming Robin, and being so helpful too. 

“Right. We’ve learned something new about Vecna-slash-Henry-slash-One. He’s a number, like Eleven. Only a sick, evil, male, child-murdering version of her with really bad skin–But my-my-my-my point is, he’s super powerful. He could turn us inside out with the snap of his fingers. It’s not a fair fight.” She took a deep breath in. 

“So then why fight fair?” Dustin piped up, “You’re right. He’s like Eleven, and that gives us an upper hand. We know Eleven’s strengths. And weaknesses.” 

Erica scoffed. “weaknesses? “

Dustin smiled slightly. “When El remote travels, she goes into this trance-like state. I would bet the same is true with Vecna.” 

“That would explain what he was doing in that attic.” Lucas’s eyes got wide with recognition. 

“Exactly!” Dustin nodded before looking back at Steve. “When he’s attacking his next victim, I’ll bet you he’s back in that attic, physical body defenseless.” 

“Defenseless? Yeah?” Steve scoffed, jaw tight, gesturing to his neck. “What about the army of bats.” It came out a little harsher than intended but both he and his girlfriend were down about a pound of flesh each. 

“True. We’ll have to find a way past them.” Dustin considered. “Distract them somehow.” 

“And uh, how do we do that, exactly?” Eddie looked over at Dustin, going to stand up but sitting right back down since Dustin just barreled through.  

“No idea.” Dustin shrugged, and Steve scoffed. “But once they’re gone, he doesn’t stand a chance. It’ll be like slaying sleeping Dracula in his coffin.” 

“That all sounds good in theory.” Robin looked over at Dustin. “But there is no pattern to Vecna’s killings. I mean at least not one that I can decipher. We don’t know when he’s going to attack next. We don’t know who’s he’s going to attack n–”

“Yeah. We do.” Max cut her off, looking at you. Everyone turned to look towards her. “I can still feel him. I’m still..marked. Cursed. I ditch Kate Bush, I draw his focus back to me.” 

“Max–You can’t.” Lucas looked over at her. “He’ll kill you.” 

“I survived before. I can survive again.” She closed her eyes. “I just need to keep him busy long enough so that you guys can get into that attic–and then you can…chop his head off. Stab him in the heart. Blow him up with some explosive Dustin cooks up. I honestly don’t care how you put this asshole in his grave. Just…whatever is it…whatever you do…try not to miss.” 

You all just stood there, looking around at one another, but Steve just looked at Max. She had become his little sister, mostly due to you, but it didn’t matter since he cared for her so deeply, but when he looked back at you, you both could see the resolve of Max, tears in both your eyes. 

______________________________________________________

“Check this out.” Eddie dropped a book on the table and pointed to an ad. “

The War Zone.” It was an image of a pioneer, surrounded by American flags and AR-15s, with name “War Zone” completely predicting the font and design of a certain film coming out on May 16th, 1986, you could predict one Steve Harrington absolutely falling in love with and wanting to be the two Romantic leads for Halloween. (but I digress). 

“I’ve been there once.” Eddie continued, looking up at all of you. “It’s huge. They’ve got everything you need for, uh, well uh, killing things basically.”

“Do you think fake Rambo has enough guns there?” Robin scoffed. “Is that a grenade? I mean, how is any of this legal?” 

“Well lucky for us, it is, so.” Eddie gave her his signature sardonic smile. “Thi-

This place is just far enough outside of Hawkins, as long as we steer clear of main roads, we oughta be able to avoid cops, and uh, angry hicks.”

“If we’re trying to avoid angry hicks, maybe we shouldn’t go to some store called The War Zone.” 

Dustin nodded at her but Nancy spoke first. “Normally I’d agree, but we need the weapons. So, I think it’s worth the risk.” 

“Me too.” You agreed. 

“Yeah but is it worth the time?” Lucas looked over at Dustin, who nodded. 

“It would take all day to bike there and back.” 

“Who said anything about bikes Henderson?” Eddie smiled again. 

“What, you’ve got some car we don’t know about?” Steve looked quickly at you before looking back at Eddie. Eddie stood up in his face, smiling cheekily. 

“It’s not exactly a car Steve. And it’s not exactly mine, but uh, it’ll do.” You all looked at him, while he looked at Max. “Hey, Red, uh, you got a ski mask or a bandanna or something like that?” 

Max went to shake her head before her eyebrows raised. 

______________________________________________________

You could now add and then cross “stealing an RV” off of your proverbial bucket list. Eddie had snuck around the trailer park in Max’s old halloween mask, looking like a fucking idiot, and had managed to sneak all of you into this random couples trailer. Eddie had slid himself through the window, sneaking up to the front of the trailer and locking the door, effectively closing off the couple sitting outside from their home. Steve had hopped through next, helping everybody jump into the RV. 

Eddie started pulling wires, and cutting them, getting ready to hotwire the RV to start. Steve had come up and peered over Eddie's Shoulder. 

“Where’d you learn how to do this?” Steve furrowed his brows while Eddie kept focus. 

“Well while the other dads were teaching their kids how to fish or play ball, my old man was teaching me how to hot-wire.” Steve was honestly in awe as Eddie continued to work his magic. “Now I swore to myself that I wouldn’t wind up like he did, but now, I’m wanted for murder, and soon, grand theft auto. So, uh, I’m really living up to the Munson name.” You were in the back making sure everyone got through the window and staying down, but watching the two of them. You slowly made your way up to the front, listening to their conversation, when Robin brushed past you. 

Eddie was sparking the wires together, hoping to ignite the engine. Steve was actually quite impressed with Eddie, looking back at Robin when she came over his shoulder. 

“Uh, Eddie.” Robin interrupted. “I’m not sure I love the idea of you driving.” 

“Oh I’m just starting the sucker.” Eddie gave Steve the biggest smile. “Harrington’s got her, dontcha big boy.” 

Robin rolled her eyes, as Steve gave him an extremely confused look, but was interrupted by the start of the engine. CCR’s Up Around the Bend started playing as the RV rumbled to life. You heard the couple outside screaming as they realized what was about to happen. They were banging on the door, while all three of the idiots up front just stared at them.

“MOVE.” You yelled at the statues before they all started to scramble. Eddie smiled at Steve before dashing into the back with Robin while Steve clambered into the driver’s seat just mumbling shit over and over again. 

“It’s just a car.” He reassured himself before yelling at everyone in the back. “Everybody hang onto something.” 

Everyone in the back was freaking out, grabbing pillows to brace for impact, grabbing onto the cushions or the couch, or even the ground. 

“Dive Steve DRIVE.” Dustin let out a guttural scream as Steve hit the gas, pulling away from the site, and out of the trailer park. “Shit they look pissed.” Dustin looked over at Robin. 

“I mean it’s not everyday you lose your house and your car in one fell swoop.” 

“Hold on, HOLD ON!” Steve spun the wheel, barreling onto the road, screeching into the distance.  ______________________________________________________

You were sitting in the middle of the RV with Dustin and Eddie, the two of them having a conversation while you eavesdropped on Nancy and Steve. 

“How's it handle?” She asked, looking ahead at the road. 

“Not half bad.” Steve smiled at her slightly. “Considering that this is a house.” 

Nancy let out a small laugh, looking over at Steve slightly. 

“Y-Yeah, it’s silly but I…I’ve actually, uh, well I’d always had this dream that like I’d have this really…really big family.”  Nancy looked over at Steve as he continued. “I’m talking like a full brood of Harringtons. Like five, six kids.”  

You had smiled slightly, picking out some remnants of dirt. You couldn’t help it. Sure, maybe you didn’t want a full brood of Harringtons, five or six was a bit excessive, but maybe just even the thought of kids sounded nice with Steve. 

“Six?” Nancy laughed slightly. 

“Yeah six little Nuggets. Three girls, three boys.” Now that made you wanna burst out laughing. Clearly he had been hanging around Robin too much, and you would absolutely be giving him shit for it later. 

He laughed at himself for a second, eyes on the road. “And…And every summer, I’d figured all of us Harringtons, we would pack into something like this and just.” He looked into the rearview mirror, meeting your gaze and smiling softly, speaking right to you. “Just, see the country. You know, the Rockies, Grand Canyon, maybe Yellowstone. End up in some beachside town in California. Spend a week parked in the sand. Learn how to surf, or something.”

Nancy had kept her smile, but her eyes lost the shine they once carried. He was looking at you, not her. And it hurt because she knew it was over anyways, but some part of her always held Steve so closely–first love will do that to someone. She watched as he looked at you, adoringly. 

Steve had looked back to the road, breaking eye contact after you had sent him a wink, slight blush on his cheeks. He seemed so confident in the idea. So confident in himself and in you, and Nancy couldn’t help but be happy for the both of you, regardless of how much it hurt to watch the door she thought might always be open become locked. 

“That sounds nice.” She said softly, continuing to look at him. Steve looked over at her, before back in the mirror. “Yeah?”

You nodded at him, while Nancy responded, “Yeah..”

She quickly cleared her throat. “Well, um, except for the six-kid part.” And you could agree with her on that. “That sounds like a total nightmare.”

“If only I had some practice.” He jested, waving his hand in the direction of the hooligans, plus you, he was driving around. 

Nancy nodded, conceding. “Alright, fair. That’s fair.” The two of them shared a small smile before settling into a soft silence. Lucas had also been watching the whole thing, and turned around, going to sit in the back with Max. You followed his figure back, before turning and looking towards Steve, who’s eyes had already been watching you periodically when he wasn’t looking at the road, causing you to feel a semblance of happiness as you tried to ignore all of the visions of death and destruction that rang through your head.  ______________________________________________________

You felt so out of place in War Zone, but Steve managed to fit right in with his denim outfit, and lack of shoes. You all were assigned a couple of necessities to grab so you could be in and out as efficiently as possible. But as you walked into the store, it was filled to the brim. 

“So much for avoiding angry hicks.” Robin looked at Nancy. 

“Let’s be…fast.” Nancy agreed, before you all split up. 

You had gone to the gun counter with Nancy, the both of you being the best with guns, which honestly made Steve question himself when he thought about it a little too hard. Nancy was holding one in her hand while you were still browsing, not wanting her to be alone in a store like this, her feeling the exact same way. 

She looked up at the guy at the counter. “How much is this?” 

The guy pulled out a box of bullets for her, “$120.99, but I’ll throw in 20 rounds of buckshot for ya.” You and Nancy nodded at each other, muttering something about needing more than that, when your body froze. 

“Hey, can I see this pretty .357 please?” 

“Nance…” You whispered, and the two of you slowly looked over at Jason Carver, before slowly turning away. But it didn’t matter.

Jason smirked over at the both of you, an air of disbelief in his voice as he held the magnum in his hand. “Nancy Wheeler and Y/N Y/L/N? Wouldn’t expect to find you two here.” 

You slowly turned towards him, tight smiles on your lips.  “Yeah well, it’s just, scary times .” Nancy answered for you both. 

“I’m, I’m sorry about Chrissy.” You said, moving slightly closer to him, and Jason’s face flashed with pain, with hurt. He nodded, placing the gun down. “Want my advice?” 

You and Nancy looked at each other before giving him a slight nod. As he slowly walked towards you, Nancy placed herself in front of you, not because you couldn’t protect yourself, because she knew you were about to do the same. . 

“Shotguns are not good for much of anything past killing small birds.” He got real close to you both. “I mean, they got power, sure, but not much range. And that’s just gonna force you into close-range combat.” 

You could feel Nancy tense up as he continued to get closer, and you were sure she felt you tense up too. His eyes flickered back and forth between the two of you, ultimately landing on Nancy, like a predator deciding which kill to make first. You took a step back, hand trained on the knife you had placed on the counter a moment earlier. 

“Then someone can just grab the barrel like this.” His hand came up quickly, and pulled the barrel away from Nancy. “And redirect it.” 

“Well you look nervous.” His hand tugging on the barrel. 

“Well like I said. Scary times.” 

“Now your brother. He, uh–He here with you by chance?” 

Nancy’s face flashed something quickly across it. “Mike?”

Jason nodded, eyes grilling into her. “Mike.” 

Nancy shook her head slightly, staring him down. “No.”

“I only ask because he’s…he’s in Hellfire isn’t he?” 

You looked over and saw Erica, her eyes wide and panicked. You motioned with your hand, below your waist, for her to move away, quickly. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Jason scoffed. “What about his friends? They here with you?” He pulled the gun closer to him, struggling to gain some sort of control over Nancy. 

“Would you let go.” she threatened slightly, trying not to cause a scene, while your hand had already curved around the knife, ready to cause that exact scene. “Let. Go.” 

______________________________________________________

Steve eventually pulled the RV over into a field in the middle of nowhere. After your daring escape from The War Zone (insert patriotic sounds), you all needed silence, and a place to start bringing your plan into action. 

Eddie and Dustin were hammering nails through trash can lids, while Max held down the shotgun so that Nancy could saw off the edge. 

You were by the RV, decked out in a clean pair of jeans, a tank top, and a flannel, ready for battle. You had located a couple of walkmans in the RV and was rifling through the cassettes, hoping to find an extra for Max, just in case, and maybe even one for yourself. You looked up as Dustin and Eddie started wrestling around, smiling at the hint of normalcy, before turning to look at the Sinclairs, watching them trying to make spears. 

You were right next to Steve and Robin as they were making Molotov cocktails. You had known Robin for a while, having been friends with her back in elementary school, but drifting apart when she went into band. By the time you kind of reconnected in high school, you weren’t super close again, until you both got drugged and slapped around by a couple of Russian hunks a million miles below the Starcourt Mall. 

“It just doesn’t make any sense.” Steve held the funnel up for her to pour some gasoline into the bottle. 

“What doesn't make sense.” You responded having shifted closer to them. 

“That was Dan Shelter. He graduated two years ago.” 

Robin was focusing spectacularly on not spilling any gas, but responded anyway. “So?”

“So he’s in college, which means he was visiting on Spring break.” You both looked at him, curious as to where he was going with this. “Fast Times was returned, like, I don’t know, a week ago? Right? Unless she’s got some horndog brother we don’t know about. Which is possible. Or she’s just like, really into Judge Reinhold–.” 

“Steve.”

“Nah–What.”

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

“Yeah. I mean, I get you there, but I still have hope.” Steve sighed.

“You better have a fantastic explanation for that response, Harrington.” You looked up at him, eyes narrowed. 

He blushed a little bit and shot you an apologetic look, but you just winked at him, knowing what he was referring to. 

“Not everything has a happy-ending.” Robin sighed, looking between the two of you. 

“Yeah, yeah, believe me, I know.” You grumbled at her, digging through a new bin of cassette. 

“I’m not talking about my failed love life, I-I just, I have this terrible, gnawing feeling that it might not work out for us this time.” She put the gas down and looked between the two of you. 

“You think we shouldn’t be doing this?” Steve picked up a new bottle.  

“I think we're mad fools, the lot of us, but if we don't stop him, who will. We have to try, right? “

“To killing Vecna” Steve held out his bottle. 

“Slash Henry.” Robin responded. 

“Slash One.” You sighed, hearing them clink, and get back to work.

The Rv hummed beneath you, all of you silent. The radio was playing Journey’s “Separate Ways”, which kept the silence at bay. The tension between all of you was palpable, since you all knew how poorly this might end. 

Steve looked over at you, before pulling up to the Creel House. He leaned over and kissed you softly, which made you squeeze his hand. You weren’t happy about this plan at all, but you’d rather part things on a positive note just in case… You, Max, Erica, and Lucas hopped out of the RV, and towards the house, while the other’s pulled away. 

There had been an extensive fight before you all convened to go over the plan again. 

“You’re fucking batshit if you think I’m letting you go back into the Upside Down.” 

“Oh ha ha did you think of that pun yourself Steve? Since when do you dictate exactly what I do and don’t do?” 

You could be so aggravating sometimes. Steve fucking adored how headstrong and independent you were. But boy did it bite him in the ass when you were doing the same thing he was doing to you. 

“I’m not the only one who was being eaten alive Steve.” You gestured to his abdomen, trying not to let the memory cloud your judgment

“I-I know. Okay? I know. But if something were to happen to you down there, again?” Steve ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t get your screaming out of my head.” He whispered. 

“And you think I can? Do you know what it was like the moment you were pulled under the water? The moment I entered the Upside Down and saw you get strangled but some fucking demonic bats?” 

Steve pinched his brow, and paced around. The both of you had enough sense to move the conversation into the woods, far away enough so that your raised voices were barely heard, but your bodies still seen.  

“Steve, I can’t just let you go down there without me again.” 

“I know. I know. But I can still walk.” It came out a bit more harshly than  he intended but his point was clear. 

“Oh my bad. Next time I almost get paralyzed from trying to fucking save your life, I’ll think twice about it. Fucking asshole.” You turned and stormed into the woods, needing some air to try and clear your head. Clearly Steve did not get the message that you want to be alone, or he just ignored it and followed you. 

“Hey. Hey! Y/N.” He caught your wrist, making you turn around and glare at him, pulling it out of his grasp. 

“Leave me alone Steve.” 

“No, listen, baby–”

“Don’t fucking baby me right now. You’re not telling me the whole truth, and I don’t want to listen to half-assed explanations. I’ve followed through on better communication so now it’s your turn.” 

“If you died in front of me, I’d want to—....” He took a breath. “I don’t want you to go down there because if you got hurt again, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. And if you d-died? If Vecna or Henry or whatever the fuck his name is, is able to-to-to take you instead of Max’s bait? I canno–I will not let that happen. I don’t want you, either of you, to die tonight. But if you’re together, I feel better knowing that you two can be there for each other, and protect one another.”

“But that is not your call to make Steve.” Your eyes had softened, and so had your tone, but you weren’t about to completely give up. “It feels like you don’t consider how I feel about this. Because if you got hurt, or-or worse? Down there? You think I wouldn’t feel the exact same way.” 

“I’m sor–” 

“Let me finish Steve.”

He just closed his mouth, hands on hips. 

“Do you know what it’s like to date someone who undervalues their life so much that they are first in line the second danger comes up?” Steve had never really thought about it before, but you just continued on. “How about dating someone who, at the drop of a hat, would exchange his life for any one of their friends if they were in danger. You are so fucking careless with your life Steve because all you do is care about other people, never yourself.” Tears were threatening to spill but you refused to cry again, all you had done for the past couple days was cry–cry at Vecna’s visions, cry in pain from your wound, cry at almost losing Steve.

“Can’t you be selfish for one fucking second, just for me?” 

Steve walked over and wrapped you in a hug, and you immediately clung to him, tears streaming down your face. The two of you stayed like that for a minute, before Steve slowly started to sway you both back and forth. 

“What are you doing Steve?” You gumbled and he brought one of his hands up to your cheeks. 

“How does it go? Stars shining right above you…Night breezes like to whisper, I love you.” 

You shook your head, laughing slightly, before resting your forehead on his. “I’d say it’s close enough, but Vecna might have some choice words.” 

“Knowing you are with Max, and not in the Upside Down fighting those stupid fucking bats, or Vecna–Knowing that I’m putting Rob, and Nance, and Eddie and D-Dustin in potentially a lot more danger, by asking you this, is one of the most selfish things I could ever ask from you.” He whispered, he opened his eyes and stared into yours. “Please.”

How the fuck were you supposed to not concede to that. But you knew he was telling you the whole truth, all of it. You kissed him softly, letting yourself get one more, selfishly good, memory into your bones. 

So when the RV drove off, you couldn’t help but feel a little guilty, thinking about the way his lips fit over yours, and the way that through some misfortunate aligning of the stars, you might never be able to kiss him again. But you weren’t going to let that take over your mind right now. You had more important things. 

The four of you stood, staring at the Creel House, each with a lantern in hand, before walking up, and through the door. 

The sun had gone down, and the house was probably ten degrees cooler than the outside air, which was saying something considering it was fucking freezing outside. You all had headed inside, taking off their shoes to try and make as little noise possible. In fact, you couldn’t hear each other walking around, but you always knew where Max was because of the soft vocals of Kate Bush. You had stayed on the first floor, with Erica, wandering around, hoping to get one of your friends on the other side to make your lights flicker, so you knew it was go time. Lucas was weaving through the second floor, looking around for anything really. 

But when Erica waved her hand over at you, when her lantern grew excessively bright, you stayed with the lantern, while she had run up the stairs to get the other two.

As Max got closer, her lantern grew brighter, confirming what everyone was suspecting. Erica quickly wrote out Phase One?, and held it out to you to confirm that it was time. You looked at Lucas and Max before nodding at Erica. 

She ran out the door, and towards the remains of a playground, climbing up into what once was a rocket’s shell. 

But what you all failed to miss was the man walking his dog, that saw the glowing coming from the Creel House, and the scared child, running for her life. 

Back in the house, Max and Lucas were sitting on the second floor, next to the glowing lantern, her music thrumming faintly. 

You were across the hall, in what was probably the Creel’s library, searching through books, listening to your own music. Since you had found four more walkmans, and three of them  worked, everyone at the Creel House, including Erica, was locked and loaded, fresh batteries and all, with either their favorite song, or one they could consider a favorite. It was your precaution against one of them breaking, or if Vecna had decided to pick you instead of Max. 

As your fingers ghosted over the books, your head started to hurt again, causing you to immediately place your headphones on, so grateful for the fact that the trailer you stole must have had a hippie daughter with the same taste in music that you did. The soft lull of the guitar started to play as you tried to find a book to steal while you waited. You almost bumped into a chair, but in doing so found one of the mother’s picture books. You dusted the cover off slightly, smiling when you realized it was their wedding album. You slowly turned through the pages, admiring the long train, and the even longer veil. But they looked so happy, so warm. You almost, almost, started to let your mind wander when Lucas came into the room, alerting you silently that Phase Two was starting. You placed the album down, pushed off your headphones, and followed him to the stairs, where Max was putting on her shoes. You all stood, staring at the thrumming lantern, before Max quickly turned to look at Lucas, a moment of fear and doubt crossing her face. But Lucas nodded at her, putting on a brave face for the both of you. 

She took a couple of breaths, before taking off her head phones, and turning off Kate Bush. The house was completely, and utterly silent. Max started yelling.

“Hey!”

Nothing.

“Asshole!”

More silence. 

“I’m here. No more music. No more games.” 

Max looked over at you panicking because it wasn’t working. 

“Do you hear me??” 

You just stared at the light. 

“What are you waiting for, huh? Come on. Do you want me or not?” 

Just then, the lantern started to buzz, and fade. Max looked panicked before her lantern started to buzz. 

Vecna was moving. 

You grabbed the lantern where Vecna was, and then moved towards Max, all of you slowly moving up the stairs, and following him to the attic. Once you had all made it near the altar, the light just stood still. 

“What are you waiting for, asshole? Hmm? I’m right here. I’m right here!”

You moved closer to Max, putting your hands on hers. 

“I know you can hear me.” Max continued. “I know you can read my thoughts. Even the worst ones. Maybe mostly the worst ones.” 

Max took off her headphones and placed the walkman on the box next to her. You immediately pulled yours off, and swapped the tapes, discarding your tape on the box next to Max’s walkman, ready to place the music on her ears the second she started to float. 

“I thought about what you said.” She whispered. “About how I wanted my brother to die. 

I thought that you were just trying to upset me, to anger me, but you weren't, were you.. You were just telling the truth. Billy he, he made my life a living hell. Every chance he got ... .So sometimes, when I would lie in bed at night, hope, pray, I would pray that something would happen to him. Something awful. I knew that he drove too fast, so I would imagine him crashing, dying in that stupid car….I just–I wanted him out of my life, forever. I wanted him to disappear. The day that he died, I think that’s why I just stood there, watched. Not because IO was scared, weak, but because I didn’t know if he deserved to be saved. And I've tried to forgive myself. I’ve tried. But. I can’t. I can’t. So now. Now when…I lie in bed at night. I pray that something will happen to me. That something terrible will happen to me. So that’s why I’m here. Because, I just want you to take me away, and I want you. To make me disappear.”

“Is that all true? You wanted Billy to die.” You asked her, chest heaving slightly. 

“Why are you talking?” Max looked up at you. “You ever have thoughts like that about me?” 

“What?” You took a step back. “Max, how could you ask me that?”

“Normal people don’t fantasize about killing people, Y/N.” Lucas turned to look at the both of you. “You realize that right?”

“Lucas, stop.” You took another step backwards. 

“I thought she was getting better, but she’s not, is she? You lied to me about her.” Lucas took a step towards you, and you took a step away.

“You’re sick!”

“Lucas, you don’t mean that.” Your voice wavered. 

“Maybe it’s good he takes her. Maybe it’s for the best. She was willing to let someone she claimed to be her little sister die in front of her.” 

“Max, please.” Your eyes started to water, as you tried to keep moving back. 

“In fact, I’m glad it’s going to be you and not her.” He snapped his neck towards you, glaring. 

“You will be the chosen one. The fourth. The final Sacrifice.” Max’s voice became more and more distorted. “It was always you, Y/N. I’ve always wanted you. Because it’s going to be you, that breaks the world.” 

Max was desperately waving her hand in front of your face, screaming your name–this was not part of the plan. It was supposed to be her, not you. She couldn’t lose someone else. 

“Y/N? Y/N? Can you hear me? Please.” Lucas was calling out to you, searching your face for any sign or acknowledgement, but you just stood there, still, eye’s blank. 

“Y/N, where are you going? Don’t be scared.” 

You kept backing up, chest heaving. “Stay away from me.” 

“Y/N. I thought you said you were ready.” Max was cornering you in. “Ready to Disappear”

“I Said STAY AWAY.” You grabbed one of the jars next to you and based Lucas on the head, and ran past him.

Lucas had run downstairs to signal to Erica that you were possessed, but all he could do was just signal that someone was being possessed by Vecna. Regardless, Phase Three was about to commence. 

You had run down the stairs of the Creel house, and opened the front door, only to be met with it being completely boarded up. 

“Where are you going, Y/N.” Vecna appeared at the top of the stairs., causing all of the lights in the house to flicker. You bolted into the next room , trying to escape the inevitable. You pulled open another door, only to be met by more wood. “Fuck fuck fuck.” You muttered, trying to pull the boards off of the frame. When that didn;t work, you ran to another door, and then another after that, determined to not give up. You opened another door, which had another door behind it. It was the locker room door at the pool. Billy slammed on the door, screaming at you. “You bitch, let me out of here.” He kept pounding on the door. “OPEN. THE. DOOR.”

You stared at it, terrified, before turning and running the other way, watching the doorway you entered from was covered in boards. You heard Billy shatter the glass, screaming at you, making you run as fast as your leg would let you, ignoring the shot of pain every time you used that leg. You ran straight into another boarded up door frame, turning and facing Billy as he slammed against the door, over and over again, screaming about how he was going to kill you. 

You closed your eyes, trying to block out Billy’s screams. Max, on the RV, had told Lucas that he only hides in the dark places, the bad memories, so you tried, so hard, to find your happiest memory. Billy’s attempts were becoming more and more successful, as you pictured your moments. It flickered through summers when you were younger, lips sweet and fingers sticky. You felt the wind in your hair when you were in middle school, going to the drive in with your parents and Robin. You saw Steve. His smile. That stupid, gorgeous head of hair. His hands on your waist. Lips on your neck. Flickers of Steve’s patio crept into your mind. Billy was screaming louder. His attempts were getting better. Steve’s eyes the first time you told him you loved him. His hands on your back, in your hair. You watched as you danced with him, singing to him. He held you so close, looked at you with so much love. You kissed him. You felt his lips on yours. You heard Billy break through the door. 

But when your eyes shot open, you were in Steve’s backyard, pool empty, patio door open, but no Steve. It was silent. There were no birds in the background, no wind through the trees, just the sound of your breath. “Holy shit…it worked.” You smiled a bit, looking around in disbelief. 

You opened one of the bins on the patio that Mrs. Harrington had insisted it was practical, and grabbed one of the towels, leaning it across the back of the lounge chair, and sitting on it. Humming to yourself, keeping your hopes up. 

But as soon as you let your guard down, the umbrella covering two of the chairs started to drip blood. At first it was just one or two drops, but it suddenly became more and more, until the ground was covered in blood, and you were standing with your back to the house. 

The radio the Harrington’s kept on in the kitchen switched on.

“But in your dreams whatever they be…” Ella Fitzgerald’s voice lilted throughout the yard, filling up the space. You slowly walked over to the roos, watching all around you, paranoid. You looked behind you, as watched as the rose bushes started to wilt and down, dropping decrepit flowers around the base of it. The grass was turning into a nasty shade of yellow, dying slowly. 

“No No no.” You whispered, watching as the paint started to peel off of the porch, off of the siding of the house. 

Louie Armstrong’s voice continued the song, haunting your mind as everything around you started to die. 

You watched as ash started to fill the air, floating by you just like it did in the Upside Down. Red thunder boomed in the distance, clouds slowly appearing over your memory. You watched the red lighting strike over and over again. 

Max and Lucas kept peering out, looking for Erica. 

“Why is this taking so long?” Lucas muttered, flashing the flashlight again.  

Just then, Lucas and Max heard the front door slam shut, the two of them looking at each other, eyes wide. 

“Shit.” Max whispered as Jason Fucking Carver walked into the attic, eyes wide at your form, just sitting on the ground. 

“Jason?” Lucas called out. “You can’t be here right now man.” 

“The hell have you done?” 

“Jason. You need to leave.” Max took a step forward. 

“Is this what you did to Chrissy?” He knelt down next to your form.

“Just listen to us Jason–”

“Hey. Can you hear me?” He got closer to you, eyes wide as you rocked back and forth, eyes moving frantically underneath your eyelids. 

“Jason, you need to go.” They both tried to get him to listen. 

“Hey man. Don’t touch her. I’m not messing around.” 

Lucas walked forward, “Please, Please just leav–”

“Hey hey Hey HEY.” Jason stood up, pointing a gun between Max and Lucas. “Back up. Bakc. Up. Both of you. Not another step.”

“W-w-we don’t, we don’t–dont have to do this.” Lucas whispered. “We don’t have to do this man.” 

“I hope you’re right.” Jason looked at you and then back at the two kids. “Is there anyone else in the house?” 

“No. No.” Max answered for them both. 

“Put down the flashlight Sinclair. And turn around.” Jason started waving the gun around slightly as Lucas slowly turned around placing the flashlight on the floor. “Empty your pockets.”

“We don’t ha–” 

“Empty. You. Pockets.” Jason sneered at both of them. 

Lucas and Max both pulled out the insides of their pockets. Max had a few bits of crumpled paper from when she got nervous, and Lucas had nothing. 

“Now this is what’s gonna happen.” Jason quickly glanced over his shoulder. “I’m gonna back away to the top of the stairs there. Then I’ll watch as you wake her up from whatever the hell this is.” 

Lucas and Max looked at one another. “We can’t.” Max pleaded with Jason. 

“Jason, if we wake her too soon, we all die.”

“No.” He whispered. “You don’t wake her up right now Sinclair, You both die.” He turned off the safety, hands still shaking.

Stars shining bright above you. Night Breezes seem to whisper I love you. 

You had slammed the patio door shut, and knocked the umbrella into the pool. You had opened the shed and pulled out a couple of the old clubs Mr. Harrington had royally fucked up, ready to use your All-Star Skills again. 

You looked over at the woods, and right where the gate used to be, was the door to the Creel House. Your grip tightened on the club. 

“You can’t hide from me Y/N.” 

You closed your eyes and pictured Max–braiding her hair, taking her and El shopping, painting their nails. 

“You think I don’t see what you’re doing?” 

You saw flashes of nights with Nancy and Robin, girls nights with booze and magazines and drunken secrets. You saw hanging out with Jonathan, enjoying the silence of a park, reading together. Flashes of nights where Steve let you all pile into his house, games, movies, safety, happiness.

“You think I don’t see everything?” 

Suddenly your mind was filled with Eddie, being chased by bats, leading them away from the camper, Dustin screaming in the distance. 

“You thought you could trick me.” 

The gun being pointed at Lucas and Max, Jason screaming at the both of them. 

“You thought your friends could stop me.” 

Steve, Nancy, and Robin attacking the vines in the house, but slowly being overcome– choked by vines, squeezing them tighter and tighter. Their screams fill your ears. 

“I see them.” 

Flashes of demogorgons attacking Dustin. 

“I see your friends.” 

Jason yelling at Max and Lucas. Erica being tackled.

“Just as clearly.” 

Steve being shoved to the wall, the vines choking him, taking his breath away. 

“As I.” 

Dustin’s screams for Eddie. 

“See you.” 

Flashes of the bats biting your leg, pain shooting through it. 

“I can feel them.” 

Robin slowly loses her breath, frantically searching for Steve and Nancy to save her. 

“I can feel them.” 

Nancy’s mouth being covered by the vines, her screams being muffled. 

“I can feel them dying.” 

Steve screams, gasping for air, but it’s not coming. The vines pull tighter and tighter as you watch him suffocate to death. 

Your eyes fly open as the first chime of the clock strikes, chest heaving. 

“It’s time, Y/N.” 

You back away slightly and look around, seeing the death, the gray, the decay. Ella Fitzgerald still singing away in the background, but her voice was distorted, as if it was a different memory. 

“It’s time Y/N.” 

You turned around right as Vecna lifted his hand, throwing you against the wall of the house, as you cried out in pain, as he slowly stalked towards you. 

“You are brave, Y/N.” 

You were panting, tears streaming down your face. 

“Much braver than Billy.” 

You tensed up, glaring at Vecna.

“But in the end, you are weak, and fragile, just like him.” 

You were struggling against him with everything you had left. 

“Like all the rest of them. And you will break.” 

Vecna reached his claw up and over your face, but right as he went to dig his claws into your skin, he was thrown across the patio, and you collapsed on the floor.  As you looked up, you could see her–El. She slowly turned him so he was floating, facing her. 

“You,” he growled at her.

But El only gave him a small smirk with a “Hi.” before launching him across the room.

You started to stand up, with El running over to you and hugging you tightly. “Are you okay?” 

“Huh.” You stood there, not believing your eyes. 

“Are you okay?” She asked again, pulling away slightly. 

“Y-Yeah El, I’m okay.” You pinched her cheek a bit, poked her shoulders. “Are you-Are you real?” 

El took your hand into hers. “I’m real.” 

“How.” You were starting to breathe at a regular rate, still not quite believing your eyes. 

“I piggybacked from a pizza dough freezer.” 

“What?” 

“I–” She was cut off by the sound of wood creaking, of Vecna rising. He stood up, glaring at El and cracking his neck. 

“Stay back.” El warned. 

They stood across from one another, glaring. 

“If you touch her again.” El snarled. “I will kill you, again.” 

“Is that what you did?” He hissed back. “Did you kill me? I am so glad you are here, Eleven. This is going to be beautiful. So. Beautiful. And it’s all thanks to you.” ______________________________________________________

Your eyes fluttered open as Vecna approached you. 

“Don’t be afraid.” 

You were sobbing, struggling against the vines.

“Try and stay very still.”

His claw lifted up over your face.

“It will all be over soon.” 

El screamed your name, struggling against the vines, 

Slowly, your body floated up to the sky, Jason had stopped punching Lucas and scrambled away. Max was screaming your name, trying to find where you had carelessly thrown your tape. Your body convulsed, eyes and palms towards the sky. She found it on the altar and tried to place it in the walkman, hands shaking. 

Your body convulsed. Max turned the volume all the way up and unplugged the headphones, trying desperately to get you to hear the song. 

Lucas caught a glimpse of your body and started to punch Jason repeatedly, blow after blow, causing him to collapse on the floor.  

Just he stuck his claws into your skull, you heard El screaming. You heard the soft lull of the guitar, screaming as you tried to kick Vecna away. And then it was black. 

Your body fell to the floor, landing next to Max who frantically scrambled over to you, holding your body. You gasped, breathing in the air of the Creel house. 

“Y/N! It’s me. I’ve got you.”  

Erica ran up the stairs, screaming your names. 

“We need a doctor,” Lucas was sobbing, trying to get you to focus on something. “Call an ambulance, hurry, call an ambulance.” 

Max was rocking you back and forth, trying to calm you down, but sobbing nonetheless. 

“M-Max?” You looked up at her, touching her face. You felt like your whole body was on fire, as if the vines had left welts in their place. You leg was numb from all the pain, but you hadn’t realized that one of your wrists was shattered, and so was one of your ankles, 

“I-I’m okay.” You hiccuped, trying not to cry in front of the two teens holding you. Even when you were potentially dying in front of them, all you truly cared about was protecting them. Max just sobbed into your hair, holding you tightly against her chest. 

Your eyes were fluttering closed. “No no no, Y/N, stay with me. Please.” Lucas started pleading with you, alerting Max that you were starting to drift away. 

“I-I don’t…I don’t wanna go.” You started crying, not being able to stay awake fully. 

“No please, I got you.” Max was begging you. She kept trying to get you to keep your eyes open, while Lucas did the same. 

“Erica Help!” He screamed out, watching as your body started to lose tension, becoming less and less alive in Max’s arms. 

“Y/n, Y/n? No no no no No! Stay with me. Come on, please. Please stay with me, Please.” 

And that was all you heard as you drifted away, unable to hear them pleading anymore, enjoying the silence, the rest, the warmth of closing your eyes, and not being afraid.  ______________________________________________________

One week later, you slowly blinked your eyes open, not used to the bright lights, a deep contrast to the sleep you’ve been in. You heard someone off in the corner, breathing, you knew they were there. You tried to speak, but you couldn’t. 

You tried to move your hand next, squeezing it, not realizing you were squeezing somebody’s hand. You vaguely heard your name before trying again. You heard yells and commotion above you, but were put back to sleep when the doctors told Steve they had to take the Catheter out of your mouth so you would be able to eat and speak properly. 

Steve didn’t like the idea of you going back to sleep, but he couldn’t argue with the doctors, so he let them, sitting back down by your side, watching, waiting for you to hopefully wake up in the hour they had promised. So when you squeezed his hand, eyes already looking at him, Steve almost broke down right then and there.

“Oh thank god.” He whispered, kissing your hand, ready to climb onto the bed and never let you go. 

“Hey champ.” You mumbled, yawning and rolling your neck slightly. 

Steve’s jaw dropped, and if you hadn’t been in a coma for a week, he would have actually been pissed. “I’ll be sure to include that the first thing you said, after waking up, ws Hey Champ.” 

You shrugged, yawning again, but squeezing his hand. “Felt appropriate since you look like shit.” 

“I’ll have to find a mirror.” 

“You take that back right now Steve Harrington.” You mumbled, going to cross your arms but flinching. “What…” You looked down at your other arm, noticing the casted tightly wrapped around it. 

“O-Oh.” you whispered, everything flooding back to you in an instant. Tears welling in your eyes. “Oh. Oh my god.”

The monitor started to beep quicker, as your whole body experienced the pain from before all over again, you were sobbing, shaking your head, not understanding why you could move your leg and arm. It was overwhelming. 

Steve had quickly gotten up and sat on the gurney, pulling you into his arms, being extremely mindful of your injuries. 

“You’re okay baby, everything is okay. You’re safe. I’m right here.” He whispered into your hair, cradling you, just grateful for the contact. 

A nurse had come to check in on you since your heart rate had almost doubled, but she saw it slowly declining again as Steve held you, deciding to leave the both of you alone. 

“W-What happened is everyone…” 

Steve pulled you in tighter. “It’s a lot, sweetheart. A lot has happened. And I’ll tell you all about it, I swear on my life, but first, you need to just relax okay?” 

You nodded, pulling away slightly, tears still slowly tracking down your cheeks. “Is it rude of me to use the fact that I almost died to ask you to kiss me.”

Steve tensed up at your wording, and you examined his face. “How long.” you asked softly, watching as his eyelashes fluttered closed. He had new bruises around his neck, and some around the edge of his face. 

“A whole…” He exhaled slowly. “A whole minute.” 

You kissed his cheek, letting your lips linger. “But that wasn;t your fault.” 

Steve hated that you could see right through him , know his guilt, know his pain, like you were watching it on a billboard. 

“I should have just listened t–” 

“No. None of that. We’re not playing the blame game. I am sitting right here. I am okay. That is more than I could have asked for coming out of that. I watched as he–you were…” 

Steve’s eyes widened, realizing that he didn’t know what Vecna had shown you. 

“I’m okay.” He whispered back. You let your eyes rake over his body, doing your own inventory of things to check up on. 

He was wearing your favorite pair of his jeans, with a blue crewneck that had a couple of buttons up at the top that were unbuttoned. “I love when you wear this outfit Steve. It brings out your eyes.” 

He looked at you. “And there they are,” you said softly, wiping away a tear off of his cheek.

“I should be comforting you.” He laughed, trying to turn away from you. 

“And you will be. I can guarantee it. But I just want to make sure you’re okay before I completely devolve for the next couple of hours.” You were only half joking, and Steve knew that too. 

You leaned forward, eyes fluttering shut, and your lips touched his. He placed an arm around you, as if you were going to shatter at any more contact. He sighed, feeling your breath as you kissed. 

Eventually, you pulled away and rested your forehead on his. “So give it to me straight Doc.” You whispered. “How bad is it out there.” 

Steve almost let out a giggle. “It’s so bad. Like comically, super villain bad.” 

“Is everyone okay?” 

Steve shook his head. “Can we just sit here? I just want to have you for myself for a while.”  he whispered. “I wanna be selfish.” 

You nodded, kissing his cheek one more time before resting your head in the crook of his neck, hugging him tightly, and promising to not let go for a long, long time.

As he held you, you started to sing quietly, enjoying the feeling of your arms in his. Your happiest memory, recreating it whenever you can. His warmth permeating your skin, his lips on your forehead, the pretty sigh that left his lips when you started singing. 

“But in your dreams, whatever they be, Dream a Little Dream of Me.” 

[berrypass-de-murdler]

56. The Ruins of a Village

Unfortunately I did not have the time to make a screenshot to go along with this episode like I wanted to, so a cheap doodle will have to do TwT my apologies

DON'T READ THE EPISODES UNTIL YOU'VE FINISHED THE FIRST BOOK!!

Logi goes to another horrible place - Obsidian’s village. It’s empty. Everyone is gone and all the houses are abandoned. Lavender is gone, the- never mind he’s still here. So are Mango and Copper. And another person??

LAVENDER: [whispering] Mister Shadow.

Shadow appears to be just a coat with shades and a hat pretty much, always blowing in the wind. It breathes, but says no words. Is there even a murder to solve?

LOGICO: I found it.

There it is - the daily murder. Mango lurches around the church, how surprising. The others pander about their Lavender and Copper businesses. But Shadow lurches around the houses. Every time Logico looks behind himself, it’s just there in the distance. It’s FOLLOWING LOGICO…

LOGICO: Enough. I don’t want you to follow me.

Shadow ducks behind a building and disappears. 

LOGICO: I don’t need another fucking stalker… 

He stops and imagines Irratino. As he’s doing so, he sees Copper… knitting. Idk it’s just weird.

LOGICO: Why are you knitting? COPPER: Fuck off. 

The killer was that goddamn lurcher! Well, no, not Shadow.

MANGO: You don’t understand. There was a bear. The bear cornered me and the shopkeep in the chapel! He was hungry and ferocious and he meant to eat us. So I knew I had to scare that bear away or else. So I stabbed the shopkeep right in front of the bear using the knitting needles I stole from the officer, which terrified the bear and caused him to flee. LAVENDER: That was a uselessly long paragraph. I was defending Obsidian’s manor with my giant gun so I could steal all her ideas since she is dead. COPPER: Dammit! I was looking for her body so I could steal THAT. LOGICO: So none of you know anything about the ancient ruins? MANGO: I know what I ruined - that bear’s appetite! You should have seen the look on the shopkeep’s face when I impaled him alive!

Mango continues to ramble, and Logico leaves. He stares at the sunset off a hill and begins to cry, when he feels something bump into him.

As the scene plays, so do the first 52 seconds of this song.

Shadow is RIGHT behind him, motionless, EVERYTHING blowing in the wind. A trembling Logi turns around slowly and stares up at the beast. It doesn’t do anything.

LOGICO: L… leave! I don’t… want you.

Shadow falters, then runs away extremely fast until it disappears from view.

The end!

The power of Goat Lord compels you!

See you next time murdlers!

[saintsenara]

living for these asks! i'm feeling enemies-to-lovers today...i'll go for mad-eye moody/barty crouch jr.; mundungus fletcher/kreacher; xenophilius lovegood/viktor krum; vernon dursley/dedalus diggle; ludo bagman/barty crouch sr. :)

thank you so much for the ask, pal! wonderful selection!

barty crouch jr./alastor moody

i back this enormously. you've got the forced proximity thing - because he's got moody chilling in that trunk - and you've also got the fact that barty's canonical daddy issues clearly make him... invested in gaining the approval of older men.

the fact that moody also has an uneasy relationship with barty crouch sr. gives them something in common. and imagine the carnage if we learn that moody also has complicated feelings towards his own father. the role-play writes itself.

mundungus fletcher/kreacher

say what you will about kreacher, but he knows his worth. he's not slumming it with mundungus when orion's trousers are still knocking about.

viktor krum/xenophilius lovegood

have you ever seen the episode of father ted where ted accidentally comes into possession of a huge amount of nazi memorabilia? this ask reminded me of it for some reason...

dedalus diggle/vernon dursley

huge fan of this concept. dedalus is obviously gagged by his ability to drive, and i can see him talking vernon into taking him for a little spin where he stares adoringly at him while vernon explains why nobody with any sense should want the euro.

who could resist?

ludo bagman/barty crouch sr.

a hill i'll die on is that - while i don't think he was a marked death eater/considered important in the slightest by voldemort - bagman was a genuine death eater sympathiser and his collaboration was deliberate. i will also die on the hill that crouch sr. is the only person who sees through his performance in the dock and is furious over the failure to convict him.

and just imagine crouch storming up to bagman in some ministry corridor, hearing "what ho, barty?" in bagman's exaggerated good-fellow manner, leaning in to hiss "i know what you did" and watching as - just for the briefest of seconds - the mask shatters and bagman whispers "prove it" back.

delicious.

[anurapoda]

Could you write some Grian + Etho? Don't care about type of pairing

HELLO ignore the fact it took me several months to write this, but I did it! I did a thing! I even had it beta read!! Just for you! The beginning and middle were written about 2 months before I got around to the ending, so if there's a mild shift in quality that's why. I haven't actually watched the episode where Grian enacts the sword so this isn't going to properly follow that AT ALL but it is inspired by it because at the time it was fresh on the ol' brain

Pairing: Grian + Etho Relationship: Platonic/Ambiguous Content Warnings: blood, injuries Words: 1335

The Sword

In Episode 8 Etho finds Grian exhausted, gravely injured, and without the supplies needed to heal himself. Instead of taking advantage of the situation and ending the last Bad Boy, Etho offers to enact the sword. Fluff ensues as the T.I.E.S member tends to the Bad Boys wounds.

[story under cut]

------------------------------

Grian's breathing was staggered as he clawed his way up the hill towards what was once The Clockers home, now abandoned with the once chaotic family that inhabited its walls dead somewhere in the small world they had called home. The blond knew he'd soon meet the same fate, the blood steadily running down his neck ensuring he’d bleed out if someone didn’t get to him first.

As his nails dug into the soft soil at the top, the avian pulled his body up and breathed deeply. Behind him, his wings hung limp, useless even if it weren't for his cut flight feathers.

Shaking some dirt from them, he didn't hesitate any longer as he made his way onto unsteady feet and dashed towards Bad Boys Bread Bridge and the mansion. There would be supplies there for him to heal. There had to be.

Limping as he made his way across the bad boys bread bridge, he thanked Mojang that no one else seemed to be around. Reaching the top of the mansion, Grian practically collapsed on top of the first chest he saw. Opening it with trembling fingers, he peered inside only for his heart to drop.

Moving to the next one he checked again, surely there would be food or medicine in this one! When the second was also empty he checked a third, then a fourth... his breathing only grew more unsteady as chest after chest yielded no result.

Frantically checking the chests once more, he didn't hear the footsteps approaching him from behind. Didn't hear the sword as it was drawn. Didn't hear the object swing through the air, making contact with his already injured shoulder and sending him tumbling to the side.

Gasping as fresh pain infected his entire being, Grian quickly caught himself on the dark oak roof and fumbled to draw a sword as he stared up at his attacker. Etho.

The man above him didn't give him a chance to stand, quickly bringing another swing down which nearly missed the blond's head as he rolled out of the way. With shaky hands he swung back but was easily countered, the diamond sword clattering to the ground as its owner tried crawling away.

A foot dug into the younger man's back, stopping him in his futile attempt at escape and cutting off much of his already shallow airflow as Etho bent down to whisper in his ear. A shiver ripped through Grian’s spine as he spoke.

"Hi, little birdy~" He sounded almost smug, waiting a moment for a response before giving a small laugh, "Cat got your tongue?"

No response still. No, Grian’s breathing was far too staggered to even dream of responding to the man above him. To the man who was about to end his life. His breathing only staggered more at the thought as splintered nails dug into wood, trying desperately to pull away from the constant pressure on his spine.

Etho seemed to move away from him, foot staying steadily on his back but at least now his mouth wasn’t practically touching Grian’s ear. Awaiting the final swing that would remove the head from his limbs, the blond closed his eyes.

But it never came. Instead, Etho sighed and evenly asked, "Do you want to enact the sword?"

The sword? Grian’s mind raced, what sword? He couldn't think straight, his mind racing far too quickly to properly compute anything intelligent. After a few moments of continued struggling as the pressure on his body only increased, it hit him. The sword!

"Y-yes!" Grian gasped between sharp breaths, immediately feeling the pressure lift from his back. Without a word Etho flipped the man over, checking his pulse as the younger continued to breathe irregularly.

"Ok bud, I need you to calm down, can you do that for me? One breath in," Etho said, taking a deep breath in as though to demonstrate.

Once Grian followed the motion, the white haired man breathed out, Grian did the same. After repeating this motion for several minutes, the blond's breathing evened out as well as it could. It was still rather shallow and not completely even, but it was far better than it had been when the encounter began.

Brushing some hair out of the younger man's face, Etho smiled, "Good birdy, got any healing supplies?"

Grian shook his head, opening his mouth to brush off Ethos concern only to be shushed as the white haired man reached into his pocket and pulled out a roll of bandages. 

As the older man reached out for Grian’s shoulder the blond pulled away and shook his head, “You can’t use your supplies on me, you need them.”

Etho only tilted his head, giving the younger a smile through his mask as her cheerfully replied, “Don’t worry, I got more. Plus I’m not injured right now.”

“Right now.” He echoed, pulling away as the older tried to bandage his shoulder again, “What if you get hurt later, what then?”

Shrugging, the fox hybrid shifted his weight, “You don’t have to worry about me, just let me fix your arm.” He began reaching out again.

“No!” Grian almost yelped, trying to pull away once more only for the older man to snatch his arm up and drag the avian closer with considerable force. Etho barely acknowledged him as he began wrapping the shoulder, ignoring his various protests and pleas to save the supplies for himself.

When the fox finished bandaging the blonds shoulder he leaned back into a crouched position and studied his work with a faint smile before pushing himself to stand properly. Looking at Grian, he tilted his head, “Got any food?”

The avian huffed, staring up at the man with feigned anger, “You’re not giving me your food.” 

“Who says it’s my food?” Etho asked with a smirk, pulling half a stack of bread from his inventory.

Grian squawked, “You evil man! You stole our bread!”

Tossing the slightly stale loafs on the ground before Grian, Etho watched as the smaller scrambled to grab them before they got completely coated in dirt. The two stared at one another for a few moments before Ethos smile widened.

“Are you not going to eat?” The man asked, mischievous slipping through his words.

The avian stared at him skeptically, picking at a piece of bread as he asked, “Why are you helping me?”

“You enacted the sword,” Etho replied with a shrug

“Yeah but that just means you won’t kill me right now, we’re still enemies.”

“True,” The fox looked into the distance, eyes squinting as he focused on something just out of Grian’s sight, “But you’re still my friend, even in this hellscape. I’m not going to leave you when you clearly need help.”

Grian snorted, “But you’re ok with killing me?”

“No,” Etho gave a pained smile, turning his attention back to the avian, “But we both know what will happen if we refuse.”

The two fell into a silence after that. Grian finally popping a piece of bread into his mouth as Etho watched intently, eyes occasionally wandering somewhere else only to snap back to the smaller man. By the time two loaves were gone, Grian sighed.

“I guess this is where we part ways then?” The blond asked.

Nodding, Etho gave a small smile, “Just remember, there’s no sword left to enact - next time I will kill you.” 

The man said the words so nicely, as though speaking to an old friend, that they sent a shiver down Grian spine. He didn’t wait for a response before the fox hopped off the side of the bridge, the sound of water echoing from where he landed as Grian was left alone.

Taking a moment to gather himself, the blond gripped the fourteen remaining bread before stuffing them into his inventory. Getting to his feet, he brandished his weapon and continued on down the bread bridge. Next time he saw Etho he would win, he wouldn’t need to enact a sword.

[bluecube92]

My Anime Movie List *UPDATED*

Ghibli:

My Neighbor Totoro Castle in the Sky Ponyo Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind Howl’s Moving Castle The Secret World of Arrietty Kiki’s Delivery Service The Cat Returns Porco Rosso Spirited Away Pom Poko Whisper of the Heart Princess Mononoke My Neighbors the Yamadas Tales from Earthsea Grave of the Fireflies From Up On Poppy Hill The Wind Rises When Marnie Was There Only Yesterday Ocean Waves Earwig and the Witch

Pokemon:

Pokemon The First Movie Pokemon The Movie 2000 Pokemon 3 The Movie Pokemon 4Ever Pokemon Heroes Pokemon: Jirachi: Wishmaker Pokemon: Destiny Deoxys Pokemon: Lucario and the Mystery of Mew Pokemon Ranger and the Temple of the Sea Pokemon: The Rise of Darkrai Pokemon: Giratina and the Sky Warrior Pokemon: Arceus and the Jewel of Life Pokemon: Zoroark: Master of Illusions Pokemon the Movie: White-Victini and Zekrom Pokemon the Movie: Black-Victini and Reshiram Pokemon: Kyurem VS. The Sword of Justice Pokemon: Genesect and the Legend Awakened Pokemon: Diancie and the Cocoon of Destruction Pokemon: Hoopa and the Clash of Ages Pokemon: Volcanion and the Mechanical Marvel Pokemon the Movie: I Choose You Pokemon the Movie: The Power of Us Pokemon: Mewtwo Strikes Back Evolution Pokemon: Secrets of the Jungle

Case Closed:

The Time Bombed Skyscraper The Thirteenth Target The Last Wizard of the Century Captured In Her Eyes Countdown to Heaven Phantom of Baker Street The Crimson Love Letter Zero the Enforcer Episode "One": The Great Detective Turned Small

Other:

The Girl Who Leapt Through Time Summer Wars Yu-Gi-Oh! The Movie Yu-Gi-Oh! 3D Bonds Beyond Time Yu-Gi-Oh! The Dark Side of Dimensions Digimon The Movie Card Captor Sakura The Movie Card Captor Sakura The Movie 2: The Sealed Card Revolutionary Girl Utena The Movie Night on the Galactic Railroad Spring and Chaos Professor Layton and the Eternal Diva Lupin the Third: The Castle of Cagliostro Paprika Memories Tokyo Godfathers Patema Inverted Steamboy Oblivion Island: Haruka and the Magic Mirror Perfect Blue Wolf Children A Letter to Momo Princess Arete Akira Millenium Actress The Boy and the Beast Little Witch Academia: The Enchanted Parade Tekkonkinkreet Ghost in the Shell (1995) Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence 5 Centimeters Per Second The Garden of Words Appleseed (1988) Appleseed (2004) Appleseed Ex Machina Appleseed Alpha Miss Hokusai Your Name Cowboy Bebop The Movie In This Corner of the World The Sky Crawlers Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex: Solid State Society Mary and the Witch's Flower The Disappearance of Haruhi Suzumiya Steins;Gate the Movie - Load Region of Deja Vu Robot Carnival Napping Princess Flavors of Youth Eden of the East: King of Eden Eden of the East: Paradise Lost Legend of the Millennium Dragon Martian Successor Nadesico: Prince of Darkness First Squad Children Who Chase Lost Voices Mirai Godzilla: Planet of the Monsters Godzilla: City on the Edge of Battle Godzilla: The Planet Eater Fireworks No Game No Life 0 Short Peace A Silent Voice Like The Clouds, Like the Wind Jungle Emperor Leo A Wind Named Amnesia The Fantastic Adventures of Unico Unico in the Island of Magic Fuse: Memoirs of the Hunter Girl Mai Mai Miracle Ni No Kuni The End of Evangelion Strait Jacket Evangelion 1.01 You Are (Not) Alone Evangelion 2.22 You Can (Not) Advance Evangelion 3.33 You Can (Not) Redo Evangelion 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon a Time Modest Heroes Okko's Inn A Whisker Away Tiger and Bunny The Rising Children of the Sea Little Norse Prince Redline Weathering With You Origin Spirits of the Past Genius Party Genius Party Beyond Promare The Life of Budori Gusuko Ride Your Wave The Night is Short, Walk On Girl Welcome to the Space Show Project A-Ko Project A-Ko 2: Plot of the Daitokuji Financial Group Project A-Ko 3: Cinderella Rhapsody Project A-Ko 4: Final Birthday Wonderland Blood: The Last Vampire Venus Wars Maquia - When the Promised Flower Blooms Re: Cyborg 009 Words Bubble Up Like Soda Pop Penguin Highway Golgo 13: The Professional Golgo 13: Queen Bee Puella Magi Madoka Magica Rebellion Lupin III The First Escaflowne The Movie Stand By Me, Doraemon Stand By Me, Doraemon 2 Expelled From Paradise Child of Kamiari Month Bubble Dirty Pair Affair On Nolandia Dirty Pair Project Eden Dirty Pair Flight 005 Conspiracy Trigun Badlands Rumble Urusei Yatsura Beautiful Dreamer The Place Promised In Our Early Days Belle K-ON! The Movie A Tree of Palme Drifting Home The Princess and the Pilot Fruits Basket Prelude Hells Black Butler: Book of the Atlantic Black Jack the Movie Josee, the Tiger, and the Fish Lupin the 3rd: The Mystery of Mamo The Deer King Inu-Oh Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba The Movie Mugen Train Jungle Emperor: The Brave Can Change The Future To Every You I've Loved Before Re:Cycle of the Penguindrum: Your Train is Your Survival Tactic Re:Cycle of the Penguindrum: I Love You Pompo: The Cinephile Lupin the 3rd Episode 0 First Contact Slayers The Motion Picture Poupelle of Chimney Town To Me, The One Who Loved You Colorful Hal

Short Movies: Little Witch Academia Kakurenbo - Hide and Seek Voices of a Distance Star

Movies I want to watch: The House of the Lost on the Cape Goodbye, Don Glees! Giovanni's Island

[bad-surprise]

🌟

so i updated my haladriel textfic erase me today (part three is on twitter) and i’d love to talk about that.

This is the wikipedia page I made for Celeborn. I really wanted him to be a mashup of Jack Antonoff and FINNEAS, which is interesting bc I am a known Celeborn hater who likes both of these producers.

Some canon references are more obvious than others. His middle name comes from his canonical Quenya name. Galadhrim Music is a reference to the elves living in Lothlorien. I wanted to make this world bigger bc touring is a huge part of the story, so Beleriand still exists here. I decided to make the Doriath family a family of politicians and civil servants bc i wanted the sort of government/leadership/public service feel but without the ickiness of actually making him nobility (though I did decide that his ancestors should still be royal). His band, Hidden Kingdom, is of course a reference to Doriath itself, and their album, The Fall, is a reference to the sacking of Menegroth.

Almost everything about Hidden Kingdom was taken from Jack Antonoff. He had a punk rock band in high school that toured using a DIY booking guide and played in anarchist bookstores. The approach to writing is heavily influenced by FINNEAS’ comments about how he writes songs for his sister, Billie Eilish, and how his acting experience helps with that.

A little easter egg here that you might catch later on in this part of the fic is that Amroth Lorien is the frontman of the supergroup Tevildo that Halbrand and Galadriel are both members of. You can expect to see a lot more about Tevildo in Part Four, but if it isn’t obvious, they are essentially intended to be the Canadian supergroup Broken Social Scene.

More easter eggs with Erase Me:

- Both Hal and Gal are openly bisexual characters here. They also are not strictly monogamous sexually, which is not a big deal here but referenced occasionally— particularly in the phone call in Part Three between H + G where it’s implied that they have history with the Loriens.

- The Soundtrack podcast was inspired by a podcast episode I heard that was a conversation between Stevie Nicks and Matty Healy. I also wanted the vibe to be very Actors on Actors. We’ll see if Galadriel makes an appearance on it in the future.

- Gal has ADHD, but I’ve never directly referenced this.

- Whispers From The Void = Crazy Days and Nights. The individual posting goes by K, any guesses as to who that is?

- Elrond is not just a music video director but a successful feature film director as well.

- Nothing is happening between Nori and Isildur, I just love fuckboy Isildur vibes.

- G’s solo music is a cross between Eloise’s album Drunk On A Flight (which is referenced frequently throughout the fic) and Phoebe Bridgers. I really imagine the stuff she’s working on now as very similar to the song Drunk On A Flight by Eloise and Moon Song by Phoebe Bridgers.

- The Dagorath Tour is partially inspired by Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour.

- The controversy re: G’s drumming is a reference to Meg White of The White Stripes.

- G does actually DJ as well, but more so just for fun. I imagine her as the sort of person who seems to be able to name any song three seconds into the intro.

- H is the more “serious” musician in terms of what he’ll listen to, but his formal education is lacking compared to G’s.

- “Light” is intended to be a sort of cross between Perth by Bon Iver, Something by The Beatles, and Guiding Light by Foy Vance, in terms of vibes, not necessarily sound.

- Lindalë’s sound is inspired by Silversun Pickups, Metric, The Strokes, Oh Wonder, Better Oblivion Community Center, and Arcade Fire, but with a lot of diverse influences (prog, punk, hip-hop, jazz, lounge) and they’re a little nerdy musically. They are getting into heated arguments over time signature shifts and they will defend their overuse of seventh chords to the death.

- I imagine a favorite album of G’s being Escalator Over The Hill by Carla Bley & The Jazz Composer’s Orchestra, but she also would love Ctrl by SZA, Led Zeppelin IV, and My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy by Kanye West (though she wouldn’t listen to that anymore bc of him being awful).

- H’s music in my head I imagine as a cross between Jeff Buckley, Damien Rice, Ray LaMontagne, Iron & Wine, and Conor Oberst, with a splash of Big Thief in there. His favorite album would probably be something like Grace by Jeff Buckley or Norman Fucking Rockwell by Lana Del Rey, but he also probably loves OK Computer and In Rainbows by Radiohead and Actor by St. Vincent.

- There’s a bit where they talk on Moria Music about playing with Tevildo and that is almost entirely inspired by a video of Broken Social Scene performing Anthems for a 17 Year Old Girl where Emily Haines says “I missed my friends” at the end. I also reference that line in an instagram caption of Celeborn’s.

- They are big into psychedelics and also regularly take MDMA together.

- Galadriel has threatened divorce many times but this is the first time she’s ever actually gone ahead with it.

- Nori is constantly looking for a new job but never actually takes anything bc she feels very loyal to H + G, even though she’s overworked and underpaid lol. She is not their first assistant, but most quit pretty fast.

- Hal has a Google alert set up for G.

- The divorce announcement was inspired by a number of celebrity divorce announcements, but none quite so much as the infamous Gwyneth Paltrow & Chris Martin conscious uncoupling. Others include Ben Affleck & Jennifer Garner and David Arquette & Courteney Cox — I just swapped out the band for references to their kids lol.

- The song “Palantír” is somewhat inspired by Cannibal by Marcus Mumford

That was a lot but I hope it was somewhat enjoyable?

[albino-whumpee]

Fallen Bridges

...eheheh. 

Hope you like this. Can´t believe I´m actually working on this. 

Taglist:

@castielamigos-whump-side-blog @giggly-evil-puppy @cowboysrappin @haro-whumps @burtlederp @neuro-whump @comfortforthepain @whumps-the-word @whole-and-apart-and-between @broken-horn-blog@ashintheairlikesnow @rosesareviolentlyread @starnight-whump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @as-a-matter-of-whump  @whumpasaurus101 @grizzlie70 @wingedwhump @unicornscotty @melancholy-in-the-morning

Please tell me if you wish to be added or taken out of the taglist!

CW//Pet whump, emotional whump, failed escape attempt, recapture, ptsd, grief, mentions of child death, suicidal ideation, shock collars, ghosts and angst. so much angst. 

He couldn´t breathe. Even if he knew it was useless to try to escape, he didn´t stop running. Just to make sure he wasn't followed, he turned his head, making himself trip down a short hill. He rolled and crashed against a puddle on the side of the road. 

However, for a second, the two centimeter puddle became a lake where his head was submerged and kept there a minute. Then two. Screams became bubbles that popped when they reached the surface.

With a gasp, he returned to reality, paddling and slamming his back against the busted pipe the water was pouring from. 

Albus gasped like a fish out of the water, the telltales of a panic attack taking his lungs captive. 

He couldn´t stop, he wasn´t safe, but where was safe? Was there a place like that for him? He pulled himself up…only to fall back on his elbows when his legs refused to stop shaking violently. 

His heart was pounding so hard he feared it would beat out of his chest.

“Calm down! You gotta calm down, Albus! This is all a big mistake,” he screamed inside his head, his pitiful attempts at breathing only making his chest clench harder. 

“This is all a big misunderstanding. I- I didn´t-” he said, clenching a hand over his chest with a pained groan. “M-Mister Claude just- just... had an episode,” he tried to reason between pants “M-Mister Claude didn´t mean t-to put on the collar…” he half laughed between huffs, immediately stopping when his trembling fingers passed around the box of the shock collar. The electrodes punctured into his skin with how tight the collar had been cinched. 

The pet´s forehead began to pearl with sweat. 

“I-I had nothing to do with what happened,” He said as memories of rushing, of panic at being chased rushed through him as he looked at the road, where a van passed by at full speed and then…

Turning and turning and turning…

He held his head in his hands and shut his eyes. 

“I wasn´t there! It wasn´t my fault!!” he screamed at the top of his lungs, shaking his head from side to side. After a second he said lower, almost in a whisper, “How the hell could I have gotten out?! I didn't do it!” he screamed as tears began to fill his eyes. When he opened them, drops of rain began to drop on his face. “It's impossible…”

Don´t worry, Al, the clouds will cry for you.

That tiny voice told him again. He had broken into tears when he saw the sky a long time ago. But that day…it was a sunny day. 

People shouldn't die on sunny days.

The boy was silent for a long time then, before a bitter laugh escaped his lips.

 “I didn´t kill them…right?” his voice shattered as he dropped his head. The rain carried his tears until he curled into himself and sobbed.

If it was true, if his dreams of the road and the van were of his owner´s, then. 

“What kind of sick joke is this?!” he shouted, punching the mud puddle forming below him. 

Of all the places he could have ended up, he ended with the people whose lives he ruined? The person who picked him and gave him a chance to be a person and not just her pet. The person he took care of when pain was too much for his body to forget, the person he detested and the person he loved more than anything…he ruined their lives.

And, as if that wasn´t enough, he had taken their most precious people's lives, too.

Right there in the middle of nowhere a pitiful pet crashes down and cries for sins that can not be forgiven.

It was his fault. 

All of it. 

Albus screamed until his head pounded.

“Why did it have to go like this? This wasn´t supposed to happen!” he punched the ground below him again before curling into himself, cradling his wounded abdomen. Mister Claude had never laid a finger on him. Mistress Sarahi had always loosened up his collar to sleep. He was so comfortable with his life, he had forgotten she had bought tools to punish him.

A terrifying thought crossed his mind then. 

Did she know? From the beginning? 

He shook his head. No, if she had known from the beginning, a shock collar would have been the first thing she would have given him. 

She would've given him to Robert as a gift, if she had known. 

The rain began to pour when he passed his hand over his throat, the shock collar undeniably wrapping firmly against it. 

He had been so scared of being returned, he had forgotten he could still be punished while living as her pet? No, not even him had gotten that naive. But he had thought he had done everything in his power to avoid that.

How was he supposed to know he had already failed before they even met?

He pushed himself up to continue walking. Once they found him, it was over for him. Being returned was the least of his concerns. He knew his owners. Or at least, he knew them enough to know returning him wouldn´t be the end of it. Even if it weren´t them,  that would never be enough punishment.

He halted as the rain slowly began to turn into hail. 

Then what would be enough? What kind of things could they do to him to make him pay? What kind of torture would be enough to make someone pay for that? Would he be the only one to receive such a punishment?

“S-Sann!” he shouted, urgently taking a step towards the house, but stopping. “...he has nothing to do with this, in any case, he is also a victim…” 

Albus stared at the road for a second before his lips curved into a smile that didn´t reach his eyes.

“Don´t worry, Sann. You won´t see me again after you leave” he looked down at his soaked clothes then. It wasn´t him he should be worrying about, but his former owner. 

His gut churned so hard he wavered. 

What would he do if he knew? The mere thought made his bones quiver. He took a deep breath before lifting his eyes in the direction of her house. “Even when things have turned like this, you wouldn´t break your promise with me, right, ma´am?” 

As if to answer for her, the storm roared.

He clenched his teeth hard.

He could do nothing but pray she would. 

Albus was tracing a route in his head when he turned his head up to find a little boy before him. 

His breathing stopped as he watched the kid crouch. The rain passing through his body, the only giveaway to what exactly he was actually seeing. 

“Charlie…” his voice trembled as the little boy smiled at him. 

The boy says something so low it takes him a solid minute to understand what it meant, but before he can even try to reply, the ghost is gone. 

He was still processing the kid´s words when he catches something from the corner of his eye. But he can´t react fast enough to avoid being tackled down and expertly have his hands handcuffed. 

“Get me the muzzle!” an agent from the recovery team screams as he pins Albus down on the mud. 

–

“Claude!” Sarahi yelled at the man entering through the main door. “Did you find him?” 

The man shook his head. 

“Maybe it's better this way. Sann always went on walks with him. If someone knows in what kind of hole that rat would go hide into-”

“Claude…” Sarahi cut him, making the man´s frown grow tighter, before he sighed. 

“I´m repulsed by myself. Knowing we took care of that- that murderer!”

“Claude! Please…stop it” Sarahi had wrapped herself in the living room´s blanket, still shaking like a leaf after having called the police to inform of her runaway pet. 

A runaway…In the end, he did end up escaping.

She was wondering if the slight relief in her stomach was because of that when Claude sat next to her to pull her into a hug. 

“Sarahi…” he called sweetly before she pushed him away. His eyes blew wide before his face twisted into anger he could barely contain “I know he was your pet, but you can´t seriously think that-!” 

“I can't seriously think what? That I can't be bitter that my own pet turned out to be the reason I ever needed a pet?! The reason I was left all alone?!” at her screaming, the man shut up.

“...You aren't alone. You have me," he whispered.

Sarahi let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, I have you.” to the man, that simple phrase felt like a knife drove directly through his heart. “If it's the day we all become honest, then tell me Claude, where the hell did you learn all this about Albus, hm? I'm sure the Glass residence isn´t a place that would have that kind of information” 

Claude stayed silent for a second. “It's a lot more complicated than you think. Sarahi, I-”

“Do you think I wouldn't notice you were lying? C´mon, Claude. Where the hell have you been working until now?”

Claude´s face turned darker and darker as he carefully explained to her. Word after word, a new wrinkle of horror appeared on her face, until she jumped up and rushed to take her car keys. When she slammed the door on her way out, Claude´s heart shattered along the glass. 

He had hoped she would come back, but when he heard the sound of tires scraping against the pavement, he slouched. 

He took a deep breath, then.

What had he expected? 

He huffed through his nose, thinking it was because of the albino´s files that he even got ratted out. 

Ah, yet another thing he wanted to make the boy pay for. 

He still remembered the boy´s files, so an hour of futile waiting later, he was sitting in their bed with papers scattered around him. There it was.  The obvious proof of torture before he was taken in, the scars that now made sense. His real age. 

Holding the files covered in dried bloody fingerprints after learning the truth made a pang of guilt appear. 

Even if he was the reason, why…?

Claude´s jaw clenched hard as he gripped tighter on the papers. 

“This is not enough!” he cried out, furiously wiping furtive tears. “You took them away! My only family! And yet-!”

Without thinking, he threw the papers away and at the sound of glass shattering, he turned back to see the shards of the tea the boy had left by their bed. Just like every night. His pills, along with Sarahi´s, scattered on the floor above the soaking pages of his files. 

He was the reason, and yet, he couldn´t deny he thought of him as family now. Before he even knew what hell was, the boy had already gone through it twice. It wasn´t enough reason to forgive him, but…

Claude turned, and buried his head into his hands. 

“Fuck…” 

An hour after that, he was putting back the files into a drawer when suddenly, his phone rang. 

“Rob?” 

It took a long moment for him to speak again. When he did, his voice sounded ragged, but in such a calm tone, it made Claude´s hairs stand on end. 

“Do you want him to pay for what he did?”

–

Sarahi wouldn't remember how she had gotten there, but she would remember the cold ice raining down on her as she walked up to their graves in the cemetery. 

Her clothes were soaked when she stepped into the cemetery. The old keeper simply followed her with his eyes until she stood in front of two graves. 

"Charlie" she called for her first born, a torpedo of a child before she turned her eyes to the grave next to it. "Fran…" the youngest, the baby boy who never wanted to leave her side. Always trying to climb up for her to hold him in her arms. 

The baby boy that had been jumping in her lap on an ordinary car trip until she woke up to the news he had been buried months earlier. She crumbled right before the small crosses with her children´s names. 

The children she couldn't even say goodbye to because nobody knew if she would wake up or not. 

Her cries were so ragged, it seemed they wished to rip a hole into the sky. Maybe dip into that garden where that filthy god kept them as roses and take them with her. Maybe in such a way, her throat would rip and would let them join them up there. 

In reality, she knew her wish was to simply have had the chance to see them. At least one more time. 

Just to say goodbye. 

After a while, her crying stopped, but the tears continued to flow down her cheeks. 

“You know?” she sniffed “He thought I didn't see him, like most of the time when he was doing something he shouldn't” her lips were tightly on place. Not even the hint of a smile came up. “but I know he saw you,” she confessed before silent graves. “I heard him laugh sometimes. I heard him say he was scared of me finding out he could talk with you. At first I thought it was just a sick joke of his. But then…” But then the little things he should´ve never known about began to pop up. “...If you really…if you really talked with him…” she slowly lowered and bent into herself, tears flooding again as her voice trembled. 

“Are you mad at me?” her lips pursed tight, before she took a deep breath. “...for letting him in and letting him take care of me when he…When I used him to fill the gap you left. Because I loved him like I loved you? Do you hate me? Because he became family, but...But he destroyed it! Twice for fuck sake!” she howled, snot beginning to run over her mouth before she furiously wiped it away. 

“Charlie, Fran…Are you angry with me for not hating him as much as I could?”

Of course, there was no answer. 

She gripped tightly on the mud below her knees. 

“I wish I had never woken up” she declared “If this was what was waiting for me, wasn´t hell a better choice?” she said through gritted teeth and burying her face into her hand before another river of tears flowed down her eyes. 

[thelustybraavosimaid]

Spoilers!

A current timeline of Things Kira Vidal Can Do™️:

THREE MONTHS:

ROT

Eutau looked down at the baby in his arms, wishing he could offer more than just sympathy. He reached for the cotton compress on Kira's forehead, thinking to put some cool water on it—and it crumbled to dust at his touch.

...

Looking around in desperation, he found an apple he had saved for Belle. He snatched it up and held it to Kira's cheek. Within seconds, the apple's red skin turned brown, then black, and it crumbled away, dissolving into a putrid liquid that puddled on the floor. (III, To Nurture & Kill)

DEATH CALLING:

"What is it? Why are you—" His words froze on his tongue as something cold stroked his face. It is too cold outside for flies, he realized. His skin crawled, violated by the same chill he had felt on that summer afternoon months before when the thieves had waylaid him. "Whatever you are, whomever you were," he warned, "leave now." But the more Kira struggled and cried, the stronger the cold feeling became, as if something was trying to crawl under Eutau's skin. To his horror, Kira's eyes were becoming cloudy, and the black blotches on his face more pronounced. (The Mercenary's Promise: III, To Nurture & Kill)

SEVEN MONTHS:

REANIMATION:

"That mouse is dead." J'kara nudged it with the tip of her boot. "Did you move it?" They had found the creature's small body under the foot of the bed. Yet when J'kara went to remove it, she found it lying in the middle of the floor.

...

Suddenly, Kira smacked his hands on the floor. The dead mouse convulsed, its stiff limbs flailing. J'kara jerked back in surprise, smashing her shoulder against the wall. (The Mercenary's Promise: IV, To Nurture & Kill)

TWO YEARS:

SEEING THE DEAD:

Kira was growing into a sweet, intelligent little boy, but his skin remained strangely discolored, and he was often troubled by ugly episodes where he would break down into tears, wailing of unseen monsters and batting at the air as if tormented by invisible flies. (The Worm of Freedom: I, To Nurture & Kill)

--

"They told me they not the wind at all. They told me I call on Death. They told me..." His mouth twisted. "They told me how they died. But they didn't wanna die, so they, umm, they stayed and twyed to find a—" (The Worm of Freedom: III, To Nurture & Kill)

FIVE TO TEN YEARS:

DEATH CONVERSATIONALIST:

"How long have you known?"

"Since you were little. I was gathering herbs one day in the forest across the Silver River and I saw you bent down, talking to the remains of some poor forsaken child. I crouched behind a thicket and watched as you carried on a conversation with it. I could scarcely make out its words—but I heard it! You kept explaining to it how your uncle wouldn't allow you to be friends." (Revelations, The Deadbringer)

FIFTEEN YEARS:

FLESH MOULDING:

He reached for one of the jars and opened it, revealing pasty, flesh-colored fiberclay. Tenderly drawing her face close to him, he took the fiberclay and spread a portion of it on her face. Her skin wept with moisture at the pressure exerted upon it, and an inhuman gutteral noise came from her throat. Gently, he began easing his fingers into her face, his touch decomposing flesh and clay alike, the thick liquid trailing down his arms.

...

As her face began to take shape, he channeled more energy into her and watched as her body filled out, becoming supple, even curvy. A longing sigh escaped his lips. It had been far too long since he had flexed this much power over the dead, and even longer since he had molded flesh. (Corpse Hill, The Deadbringer)

SUMMONER:

He issued a silent command to the Risen of Corpse Hill.

I want his flesh, I want his life. I want him pinned down to the ground like a small, frightened animal. Take him. Make him yours. Kill him. (Corpse Hill, The Deadbringer)

--

"I raised the dead in that cemetery. I used them to kill Stone," he whispered, his eyes wide with horror.

"You did what you had to. You were left with no other option. Now rest."

Kira pushed on, the memories overflowing. "They tore him apart...with their teeth, their hands. They feasted on his flesh, his blood, and I felt every second of it as if it had been me doing it. And I reveled in it!" (Revelations, The Deadbringer)

--

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but Kira appeared during the invasion at the battle of the Citadel. Somehow, he ended up in the middle of the fiercest fighting in the city. He lost control of his powers and summoned scores of Risen, killing and wounding many." (Interrogations, The Faceless God: Book Two, Part One: Spirits & Ash)

SELF-HEALER:

"But Kira had the last laugh. What really happened at Corpse Hill?"

"I already told you."

"Part of Kira's torso was missing, yet he lies now with fresh skin sealing the gaping hole in his side. No Deadbringer would be able to heal that amount of damage, especially unconscious." (Sleep, The Deadbringer)

DOLL MAKER:

He bent down and pressed his mouth against the rats' bloodied snouts, forcefully blowing air into each.

The sound of something brushing against wood drew his attention, and he found himself unable to hold back a satisfied smile. Tiny chests rising, tails twitching, the rats looked up at him through glass eyes.

They listened intently as their master gave them their instructions. (Time, The Deadbringer)

MEMORY INHABITER:

Kira looked up at the frightful sky and willed himself to grow taller, as far away as possible from the vile fog. But there were many, far too many, who could not climb so far up. So he pulled his roots out from the soil, just out of reach of the fog. The air above the ground was bitterly dry and cold, and he wondered if he would ever feel the comforting embrace of the soil again.

...

He called out to the many lives clinging to him, hoping that they would understand his words, and spoke in the tongue he knew best.

The Land is lost. She has closed her heart. Whisper to me the dreams of your life, for the end draws near.

From among the many people who had sought refuge there came a reply. Their call was sweet, but laced with deep sorrow.

Do not despair, for we have a secret—we have learned the ways of the dead.

Distantly, as if it were someone else’s, he felt his body pulled. At the same time, the tree’s memories collapsed, and Kira fell into darkness. (The Gods' Spears, The Deadbringer)

RISEN MAKER:

The monster had risen—a tall beast that was at once obscene and powerful. His hair writhed about him like venomous snakes. Looking up at the sky, he threw his arms into the air and then smiled with such greed and raw lust that Kristoff felt sick. But Kristoff soon forgot his disgust, for the bodies of all those who had fallen began to rise. (Shattered Walls, The Deadbringer)

MAD RISEN:

“Too many are dead, and too many are nursing bite wounds. Do you understand what I am saying to you? You had my men—my men—attack as if they were mindless beasts!” (Honey and Spice, The Deadbringer)

--

"The third thing I must tell you will be the hardest for you to hear. Your Risen infect the living that they bite, spreading a susto that drives the victims mad.”

...

“Eutau would not have known of this, for Shonnell was careful to keep it hidden. My own Risen do not do this, and neither do Lyse’s or Amonos’s. It’s a trait you must have inherited from Shonnell, for his Risen also spread a susto. What is different is that the susto his Risen spread simply left the victims listless to the point that they ceased to care about their own lives, eventually wasting away. From the little I have seen so far, your Risen appear to spread a more violent madness. I do not yet know how to explain the difference.” (The Temple, The Faceless God: Book Two, Part One: Spirits and Ash)

INDOMITABLE RISEN:

“There is one more thing you should know about your Risen,” said Eutau, sighing heavily, running his hand behind his neck. “Lafont claims that they were difficult to kill, that piercing their hearts and severing their heads did not work. Apparently, knocking you unconscious is what stopped them.” (The Temple, The Faceless God: Book Two, Part One: Spirits and Ash)

[jaimehwatson]

12, 14, 17, and 18 for the behind the scenes fic writer asks!

Behind the Scenes Fic Writing Asks

Thanks Mattie! <3

12. Is there a trope you haven’t written yet but really want to?

This might be a bit broad of a concept to call a "trope," but I've never really written an AU beyond one or two short one-shots inspired by other people's longer AU works. But I'm currently working on a pro wrestling AU for Our Flag Means Death that's going to be great, so stay tuned. :D

14. If you were stuck on a desert island with only two characters, which would you pick?

My boy Edward Teach born-on-a-beach would know how to survive! But Stede would not, he'd probably be in the way, sorry Stede. So for my second character I'll pick Paul Atreides, who's also great at desert survival, and will know what to do if we encounter any huge worms.

17. What fic are you most proud of?

This is always a hard question, because I write a ton of short fics, and I'm happy with them all! But one I'm especially proud of recently is my little OFMD series What makes Ed happy?, which explores three different relationships in Ed's life and how he grows and changes over time.

18. What is a line/scene you’re really proud of? Give us the DVD commentary for that scene.

Thank you very much for this one especially! Since I've brought up OFMD for all your other questions so far, I'll stick with the theme and give some commentary on my recent pre-canon Ed/Izzy fic Breathless Devotion! If you haven't read the fic, you may want to check the content warnings in it before reading my quotes and commentary.

Ed barely flinched at the first few lashes, counting them out—at his captain's insistence—with a confident smirk.

This opening scene has three inspirations. One is another good fic I read recently in which Jack talked about Ed being flogged by Hornigold at some point in their shared past - but I took that idea in a bit of a different direction, and decided to leave it ambiguous whether the captain in my fic is Hornigold in particular or just some other guy. The second is the episode of Sharpe (although I forget which one) in which Sharpe takes care of Harper in a similar situation. And the third is just from All Elite Wrestling.

He was no stranger to pain, and it was far from the first time in his life that he'd been beaten as punishment for some minor perceived slight.

In my mind, this refers to Ed's abusive father, as well as to at least a few other captains or bosses of whatever kind he went on to work for as a young man.

A sudden cold splash of liquid made the skin on Ed's back burn, and he howled a string of barely coherent curses—some of them even in his mother's language, which he had barely spoken since childhood, and was surprised to find that he remembered.

Although it hasn't been confirmed in canon, I like to imagine Ed's first language being te reo Māori, which I've been learning a tiny bit about recently from some cool posts by @ofmdtereomaori!

"Iz—Izzy," Ed whispered, the affectionate diminutive feeling effortlessly natural as he shifted forward to press their bodies together.

In case anyone didn’t pick up on the implication, I wrote this fic imagining that Ed and Izzy didn’t know each other very well beforehand, and this is the first time Ed has spontaneously decided to call him Izzy instead of just addressing him as Hands or something else more formal. Maybe it’s even the first time anyone called him Izzy! Who knows.

"But you took care of me, Izzy Hands. That's all I need to know."

I wrote this final line thinking about a good book I read recently, Horns by Joe Hill, in which the protagonist says something similar to a childhood friend who saved his life: “You pulled me out of the river. That’s all I need to know.” Just like with Ed and Izzy, that relationship also turned out to be an unhealthy one. And if you want to know more, I highly recommend the book!

Thanks so much to anyone who’s stuck around to read all this commentary! It was a lot of fun to write <3

[theautisticcentre]

RELAXATION TIME

Wanda x Fem!Reader

Summary: Wanda and you having some time for yourself.

Warnings: Fluff, AU

Notes: Reader is the younger sister of Steve Rogers; Pietro survived because yes, Reader is the Winter Soldier in this AU (Bucky instead went in the ice with Cap.)

----------------------------------------------

Damn, was being an avenger and an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D hard. Constant battles, high risk of death, loads of people having it out for you. But there was one silver lining: You and your girlfriend had the same job.

You and Wanda were connected like grapes on a branch. Wherever one was, the other wasn't far behind. Whenever something needed getting done, it wasn't at all uncommon for a magical blast from the magic Maximoff to be followed by a sniper shot from far away.

But, neither you or Wanda were needed for about the next week or so. You finally had some time for yourselves, which is how you ended up bringing two mugs of hot chocolate for you and Wanda, both in your Pajamas, at your own home in the woods.

"Damn, those smell good...I mean, not as good as you, but..." said Wanda, laying on the couch, before sitting up as you put her mug down, then sitting down with yours. "I could say the same for you, hun." Wanda gave a chuckle at your response, before taking a drink of her hot chocolate, as you did the same. You pick the movie," you asked, before she responded, "Yeah. I thought Encanto would be nice. What about you?"

"Oh, yeah. Looked interesting," you said, as Wanda turned on the movie via Disney +. "Ah...hey, what's up with Steve and Bucky?" You turned to Wanda, before asking, "...What do you mean?" "I mean, are they...y'know?" You quickly pieced the innuendo together, then respond, "Oh, no. Steve's loyal to Peggy, through and through..."

"...But Bucky's super Bi." Wanda nearly chocked on her drink in laughter. "I mean, have you seen him and Sam?" Wanda nodded, wiping the drink off her face, before turning her attention back to the movie, as you did the same.

A few minutes later, as The Family Madrigal began, Wanda asked, "Hey, what if...the Madrigals met us?" You let out a sigh, and said, "Hoo, boy, where do we start with them without breaking their brains? Oh, I know, how about the Battle of New York?" Wanda laughed until her cheeks hurt, and replied with, "Yeah, that...that'd be a day for them."

As the movie pressed on and on, you both talked about the movie, your lives, and just about anything you could think of. However, as it reached beyond the half hour mark, you noticed Wanda's eyes getting lower, and her movements becoming less energetic. "Must be the sugar crash," you thought to yourself.

When the iconic song We Don't Talk About Bruno started playing, you pointed out, "Oh, hey, it's the song everyone remembers from this. I'll tell ya, one time, I found Freddie from S.H.I.E.L.D blasting this while mimicking Camilo's part. Then Hill came in, Freddie got flustered, then-" You were stopped when Wanda slumped onto your shoulder, fast asleep. You took a second to look at her, before smiling and kissing the top of her head, and whispering, "Goodnight, printsessa."

You turned off the movie, not planning on letting Wanda miss any of it. You went onto Prime Video and put on The Boys, and watched the first season (for about the 4th time) while gently stroking Wanda's hair as she slept. Just as you reached the fourth episode, Pietro came rushing into your home, quickly noticing his napping sister. He then quickly dropped off some bags of groceries he got for you, then sped off again. It wasn't long after that you fell asleep with Wanda on your lap.

THE END.

[correctrvbquotes]

Cut to Future Church looking back at Blue Base

Future Church: Well that didn't work out so well. I better lay low before I do some more damage.

Cut to black screen with white text: "a few weeks later"

Cut to Future Church hiding in the shade

Future Church: Man this sucks. It's still weeks until Tex shows up, I still haven't seen any sign of that pink guy yet.

Donut: Hi!

Future Church: Uhmm... Hello.

Donut: Do you have any elbow grease?

Future Church: What're you talking about?

Donut: How about headlight fluid? This is the store, right?

Future Church: What? Look man, there's only two places in this God damn canyon.

Donut: Look I just came from Red Base.

Future Church: Well, then the only other place you can go is, that way.

Donut: Okay, thanks mister!

Future Church: Hey, wait a second. Is that pink guy over at Red Base yet?

Donut: Pink guy? I don't know any pink guys. There's a maroon guy and an orange guy, but no pink guys. Seeya later. (takes off)

Future Church: Yeah thanks. What an idiot. ...Wait a minute.

Cut to Caboose and Church during episode 4

Caboose: My dad always said "Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?"

Past Church: Hey rookie... did you just call my girlfriend a cow?

Tucker: No, I think he called her a slut!

Donut: Oh sweet, they sell tanks!

Future Church: (on the hill behind Donut, whispering) Hey, buddy, no no no, don't go down there!

Donut: Is that the guy from the cave? How'd he get down here so fast?

Past Church: (turning around) Tucker, are you laughing at me?

Donut: Excuse me, Sir, can I ask you a question?

Future Church: Oh crap.

Donut runs out of Blue Base carrying the flag

Caboose: (emerging from Blue Base) The General stopped by, and picked up the flag! (returns inside the base)

Past Church: Wait a second... what did he just say?