#and the night followed day and the story tellers say

[laminy]

a new life grows, the blossom knows, Chapter 12: Joe’s family is still in town. Sami takes some more photos. Ben does some baking while the guests fawn over Gwil.

[thisblogisaboutabook]

The Fated Truth

Azriel x Reader

Truth-Teller’s origin story. A multi-pov oneshot.

A/N: this story came to me after listening to the songs seven, vigilante shit, it’s nice to have a friend, and my tears ricochet by taylor swift.

warnings: attempted sa, language, suggestive language, parental abuse, violence, main character death

The Angel

-Ladies always rise above -

Remove the dagger from his heart.

-Ladies know what people want-

Wipe the blood from the corner of your kohl lined eyes.

-Someone sweet-

Spit on the bastard.

-Someone kind-

Swipe at the next overgrown male.

-Someone fun-

Hit your mark, swing around, drive your dagger into the brute on your six.

“Well, shit.” you think to yourself as a group of ten overgrown bats rush toward you. Siphons glowing.

The irony isn’t lost on you that yet another thing they withheld from you would contribute in damning their very existence. A female with siphons was considered absurd and absolutely out of the question, it wasn’t your place - yet this incontrolable blast of raw killing power begged to differ.

One moment those pricks were running toward you and the next, they were ashes in the wind.

Looking at the dead females around you, pure rage boils within. Your insides could be cooked at this point for all you know. Not a single feeling but uncontrollable rage.

A gasp breaks the silence. One of the females is still alive. Running to her, her eyes filled with panic, breaths rapid and shallow. You lean down and whisper to her before unsheathing your dagger and holding it up. Her eyes widen in terror but not at you - behind you. You turn to look.

“Azri-“

The blast of power hit before you could finish saying it - your mate’s name - your final breath.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Journal

Nine year old Y/N

“I made a new friend! His name is Azriel. He’s like me! He’s two years older than me and can’t fly but he still has his wings. I wish I still had mine, we could learn to fly together. Azriel has burn scars too but his are on his hands instead of his back like mine.

He’s really quiet but it’s okay, I talk and he listens! He has shadow powers though. I don’t think I’m supposed to say this but they’re really cute! One of them followed me home from my chores today.

I have to go now. Dad is yelling. I think he’s mad again.”

11 year old Y/N

“Father hit me again last night. I got upset and my power hiccuped. I asked him for a siphon and he locked me in the cellar for asking. I have bruises that hurt really badly but I’m okay.

Azriel saw me this morning. I tried to hide the bruises but he notices everything. I cried and he listened to me. Sometimes I think he’s the only person who sees me.”

13 year old Y/N

“One of father’s friends came over two nights ago - they were drinking. I had to refill their mugs of ale and the friend grabbed me inappropriately. Father laughed. When he left the room his friend pulled me into his lap and his hand drifted below my waist. I was scared and my power flickered, throwing me backward and flipping the chair over with him in it.

The blast broke his arm and nose. I don’t feel bad.

I tried telling father what happened but he didn’t listen. He locked me in the cellar from that night until this morning.

One of Azriel’s shadows found me and picked the lock. Father either forgot he locked me away or didn’t care because he never came to check on me or give me food. I found a canteen of water on one of the shelves though.

Azriel retrieved me as soon as his shadow notified him. He took me back to Rhysand’s Mother’s cabin and she fed me. Azriel stayed by my side as I took a bath - there were even bubbles. I’ve never had a bath with bubbles before. Azriel saw my scars peaking over my towel after I climbed out of the bath and instinctively clenched his hands. I took them in my hands and kissed them. Our scars prove our strength. He tells me mine are beautiful but his are too. All of him is.

He’s my best friend.”

15 Year Old Y/N

“I spent the day with Azriel yesterday. Sometimes we sneak away and train. He teaches me self-defense maneuvers and even some Illyrian fighting techniques. My powers have been growing a lot lately too. I am still not allowed siphons though. It’s getting harder to contain but training with Azriel serves as an outlet.

I got into a fight with father again two nights ago. He threw a knife at me. I avoided it but if it hit me, it would have landed in my chest. He called me an “ungrateful whore just like my mother.” I was told that mother died in childbirth but sometimes I wonder if it’s not true.

When he locked me in the cellar this time, I let out a blast of power. It ripped a shelf off the wall and down with it came a dusty box I’d never seen before. I opened it to find a beautiful obsidian-hilted knife and a note that said:

For my beautiful babe. May the light of truth always find you, even in the darkest places. I will always love you. -Mother.

I can’t believe it was there all of this time. It broke my heart to know that she had been locked away in the cellar too. The only thing she was able to give me. She loved me. Those words meant so much. Someday I will be reunited with her in the realm beyond and she’ll share her truth with me.

Oh I almost forgot!! Azriel snuck into my room this evening and I showed him the knife. He held me while I cried tears of joy and sadness over this gift from my mother.

He’s going to train me in wielding it.”

16 Year old Y/N

Father was away on a training exercise last night so I went to a party at Rhysand’s cabin. It was fun but Morrigan was there. She’s so beautiful and I think Azriel likes her. He looks at her like she’s the brightest star in the sky.

He’s my best friend and I have loved him for a long time but sometimes, I feel an ache in my chest. Maybe I love him as more than a friend? I left the party early and trained with my hunting knife alone at our usual spot. He didn’t come looking for me.

This morning he stopped by and we practiced together. He seemed sad for a bit but I didn’t press. He tends to prefer more physical methods of expressing his feelings. He was still sullen afterward so I brought him back to my house for tea. We laid in bed together for hours. I know it’s frowned upon but it’s never gone past holding each other. He needs touch as much as I need his listening ear.

I think I’m going to ask him to spend the night.

17 year old Y/N

Yesterday was my 17th birthday. Father didn’t pay any mind to it as always. He says it’s “a reminder of what I did to my mother.” He drank himself into oblivion which left me free to leave the house. He probably never realized I left.

Sometimes I want to tell him that I know his secret - that there was more to her death than my birth but I know better. The following blow up would be catastrophic. At this point, my power has been growing so much that I think… I think I’m more of a danger to him than he is to me.

But… something big happened. Azriel took me flying. We looked at the stars and he flew me far north to see the Aurora. It was almost as beautiful as him. I may or may not have cried tears of joy.

Az playfully kissed my tears away but then something happened - what started as friendly kisses sparked a flame within me and I… I noticed a shift in his scent too. We locked eyes and he kissed my lips. Hard, fervently, like maybe he sees me as something more. We landed in a clearing under the Aurora and kissed for hours.

I love him. I love him wholeheartedly.

18 year old Y/N

Something happened last night! Az and I have spent a lot of nights together recently. Any time father is away, he comes over and we lay in bed kissing and talking for hours until his shadows inevitably lull me to sleep. But last night, I kissed his jaw and down his neck - he grabbed my wrist and growled!! Not a scary growl but a… possessive growl. He told me that if we started this, he wouldn’t be able to hold back.

So…. I kept kissing him. Lower. And Lower. And, well… the rumors about wingspan are true.

We had each other over and over all night, until Cassian and Rhys came knocking on my door looking for him.

18 Year old Y/N part two:

Father has hardly been around. He’s been visiting other camps. I’m thankful for the break from him and especially thankful for the time I’ve spent with Azriel. We’ve spent countless hours entangled with each other over the past few months. My power has been stirring a lot, it’s still growing. Training hasn’t been enough so this physical outlet between Azriel and I has been a lifeline. I can’t get enough of him. He told me he loved me - and I knew this time it was different. He truly loves me and not just as his friend. He knows that I love him too.

But things have also been trying… Morrigan has visited a few times recently and he’s still so enamored by her. Honestly, I get it. But it still hurts. Sometimes I want to say something about it but I don’t want to cause problems. There’s a rumor that she slept with Cassian a couple of years ago and things have been different between Azriel and Morrigan ever since. He broods more than ever when she’s around.

Maybe I need to fuck him senseless, until all he can think about is me.

Just kidding, but seriously.

19 Year Old Y/N

“I have a secret.

A really big, life altering secret.

Azriel is my mate. I don’t know if he knows but last night - things were really passionate, when we came together, that golden thread people talk about, it just… SNAPPED for me.

Things have been really bad with father lately and there have been more wing clippings happening. My heart hurts for the girls. I used to feel sad because I never had a chance to touch the skies (until Azriel learned to fly and carried me into them) - but to have been able to fly for so many years and lose the ability. I couldn’t imagine. Those males deserve to suffer.

Father made a comment recently saying that he gave me a ‘gift’ by cutting off and burning my wings as a child. It made me furious - my power slipped. It destroyed most of our living room furniture and half our kitchen table. I could scent the fear in him when it happened. I think if he wasn’t such a coward - he would have killed me. I have hardly seen him since.”

20 Year old Y/N

“Azriel is taking me to a formal party at another camp! I can’t wait. Rhysand’s mother even made me a dress for it. It’s the most beautiful clothing I’ve ever owned. She also added a hidden sheath for my knife.

I just finished getting ready - I feel like a shooting star. I’ve never felt so… so powerful and gorgeous. My eyes are lined with kohl and my hair is braided with silvery strands woven in.

Tonight is the night I’m telling Azriel. I’m nervous, so, so nervous, but he deserves to know that we’re mates.

Morrigan will be at the party too. I really hope I’m not making a mistake by telling him tonight. I know he still cares for her so I will wait until after the party and it’s just the two of us in the sky before telling him. Maybe he’ll take me to look at the Aurora again.”

~~~~~~~~~~

The Survivor

The infamous Shadowsinger made his way to her - approaching slowly, trembling, two palms up in the air as if to placate her.

He knelt down to the female who cried out in a blood curdling scream of pain and fear.

“P-pl-please don’t!! Don’t hurt me!”

“I’m here. You are safe.” The Shadowsinger choked out.

She didn’t understand. Why would he kill that female? She was only trying to help.

“Y-yo-you ki-killed h-her.” She cried out right before everything went black.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Shadowsinger

Devastation. Pure devastation threatened to rip Azriel to shreds. What the hell happened in a matter of hours?

He’d barely seen Y/N at the dance. She’d arrived to the party with all eyes on her. She held her head high, wearing her scars proudly. He couldn’t help but admire how she let them shine tonight. He’d walked in with his hand on her back his scarred skin to her scarred skin. It wasn’t a flaw at all, but a lovely match. They were beautiful together.

Tonight was the night he would ask her to move in with him. He was now making a small salary - enough to buy a little cabin for the two of them. It was time for her to get the hell away from her horrid father. He planned to take her to view the aurora that she loved so much - and present her with a special gift - her very own siphons. She was the strongest Illyrian female he knew - really she was stronger than any Illyrian he knew aside from maybe him, Rhys, and Cassian. She’d struggled with her power and the misogynistic Illyrian bastards in Windhaven refused to allow her or any female such a privilege.

He’d worked out a plan with Rhys, who convinced the smith that crafted the siphons that he was going to try his hand at wearing siphons one more time - claiming he had a new method of siphoning his power through them that would prevent shattering. While they both knew it was bullshit and the siphons would never work for Rhys - they would then gift them to Y/N without raising suspicion.

Mor was at the dance tonight. He had gone over to visit with her and shared his plans for tonight with her. She squealed and leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek and a huge hug, requesting a celebratory dance. They’d gone out on the dance floor for a couple of songs and when he pulled away to steal a dance with Y/N she was gone.

He’d searched the party through when a couple of males burst through the door - yelling of a female going crazy and murdering local villagers.

Az immediately vacated the party to take down the assailant - sending another partygoer to alert Rhys and Cassian who were currently bedding a set of twins in one of the suites.

He was taken back when he landed at the site of the attack. The carnage was brutal with blood coating the snowy ground, littered in dead males and females. His heart nearly stopped when he realized, at the center of it all, there she was. Y/N holding her hunting knife over a severely injured female.

Stunned by the sight, Azriel prepared to send a wave of power out and knock the knife from her hand. Right as the power readied itself for Azriel to fire, she turned and looked at him. Her eyes met his and snap. His body jolted - a golden thread between him and the blood splattered beauty before him - the surge caused his arm to jerk and a much more powerful blast emitted from his siphons. He missed his target. For the first time in his life, he missed it. Instead of the knife, the deadly blast of power hit her.

His mate. His best friend. His equal. His eternity - ripped away in a second.

Everything after that was a blur. His only memories of those moments played on a constant reel in his head flashing images of the injured girl screaming “you killed her!!!!”, collapsing on top of Y/N’s lifeless body, screaming to the mother or any other deity that may listen - begging for her chest to rise and fall again, and then four strong hands pulling him off of her before everything went black and his brothers voice calmed his mind.

~~~~~~~~~~

Days later Azriel woke up from whatever sedation Rhys had put him in. When he woke, Cassian was by his side. It was all of a minute before the memory came flooding back.

Azriel thrashed only to find he’d been restrained.

“Brother..” Cassian said firmly.

“Brother!” he yelled

Azriel’s wrists and ankles were on fire as he thrashed. He had to get to her, had to.

Finally Azriel cried out “Y/N!!! Y/N!!!!”

“My mate! Where is she!? WHERE IS SHE!?” he screamed and cried, thrashing against the restraints with all of his might.

Everything went dark again.

“Az…..” Rhys spoke softly into his mind

Azriel didn’t have the strength to scream or yell in this space of sedation. He could only whisper “where is she?”

Silence filled the void of his mind before Rhys spoke. “She’s gone, Az.”

Devastation flooded through him, filling him completely, making that one sided bond reverberate every ounce of emotion back to him.

Rhys waited patiently, sending soothing waves of darkness into his mind. Knowing Azriel well enough to wait until he was ready to send a thought back.

“Why, Rhys? Why did she do it?”

Again, that damned silence as Rhys paused.

“If I show you now, I’ll have to keep you under for longer, Az. You’re a danger to yourself right now and this… it’s heavy, brother.”

“Do it” he gritted.

Azriel’s mind became entranced in a vision. Before him a massacre. He was seeing through the eyes of a frightened female, eyes bleary from sobbing.

A large group of males had corralled several females into a circle, some as young as five or six. The males all carried sharp objects ranging from sickles and scythes to swords and axes.

A male stepped forward - Y/N’s father - who spoke:

“Females of Illyria have not served us well in many years. They forget that their purpose is to care for us, maintain our homes, and cater to our physical needs. Instead, they insult us by wasting time and energy on training - as if our protection is not enough? Young females smuggle herbs into our camps that delay their bleed so they can fly where they please, whoring around with whomever they please. These behaviors reflect negatively on all of Illyria, leaving us to appear weak to enemies.”

And then the bloodshed began. The males ran at the females, corralling them in closer and closer. Butchering wings and brutalizing any female who dared fight back. The screaming, gods awful screaming, pierced the air.

Male screams suddenly burst out - a blast of power knocking ten of them on their asses.

And there she was, in her resplendent glory.

“Hello boys.” She smirked.

Y/N’s father stepped forward. “My traitorous daughter, and dressed like a slut too. Shall we show them what happens to women who don’t obey.”

“Oh yes, ladies, my father took my wings when I was four. He burnt the stumps too. See these scars?” She turned around briefly with a wave to her back. “Someone I love helped me realize how beautiful they are, a stark reminder of what I can overcome.”

She paused, looking to the females as she addressed her father:

“So yes, father, perhaps this is the fate of disobedient females - but allow me the honor of showing YOU the fate of males who think they can steal a females power.”

-They say looks can kill and I might try-

Her piercing eyes again met her father as she threw a hand out, sending another blast of power - a death blow - turning him to ash in the wind.

Before any of the males could react, she sent another larger blast, creating an opening near the most vulnerable of the females.

“RUN! Those of you who can fight - you may stay. Those of you who are unable - there is no shame in leaving now! Seek shelter!”

The females nodded toward a teenage girl, signaling her to gather the youngest females and ran off with them. Any males that tried stopping them were turned to ash.

“Ladies, show them who we are!” Y/N cried.

-The ladies simply had enough-

They were outnumbered, so terribly outnumbered. Some females had died before Y/N arrived - bleeding out from the butchering of their wings but the few remaining females fought bravely. Because of their lack of training, the males easily overtook many of them but Y/N led them bravely, valiantly, taking them out as best as she could.

As the female numbers lessened Y/N cried out for the females to evacuate, to seek healers. The remainder of the females fled aside from two females (one of which this visions point of view was from) who appeared to have more training than the others.

Y/N looked to them giving a knowing look seemingly saying “give them hell.” They adjusted their stances into that of the most fearsome warriors, and took on the remaining males as more and more fled in.

Y/N’s power was like nothing they’d ever seen. She took down male after male.

Before she could react, two males approached from behind taking out the other female and knocking out the vision of the female whose mind Rhys had gleaned into.

As the female blacked out, the vision faded away. Silence once again filled the air for several minutes before Azriel said:

“But.. she was holding a knife over the female. I don’t understand.”

Rhys answered in a heartbreakingly soft tone

“I can show you, brother. But this will be hard to see. Are you sure?”

Azriel replied firmly, “show me.”

Rhys hesitated before continuing. But then the vision resumed as the female regained consciousness:

Her eyes were so blurry. She was hurting terribly but managed a gasp. Around her, all of the males were dead and the bodies of their fallen sisters painted the snow red. Emotion flooded through her, she couldn’t move. As her vision cleared further, she saw her. The female who fought so bravely for them.

Y/N saw her and ran over. The blood caking her braid causing panic. The trauma of this night was too much - the blood so triggering. Y/N sensed the fear and whispered “I am here. You are safe now. Look at my eyes, not around you, not at the blood on me, just my eyes.” The female tried but couldn’t look away from the blood in her hair. “I’m going to bring my knife out and cut the braid. Do not be afraid.” Y/N once again unsheathed her knife, lifting it, when loud wings flapped in. The injured female couldn’t get words out, her only signal to Y/N, a wide eyed look of panic.

Y/N turned around - breathed out “Azri-“ just as that fatal blow of power hit her.

“STOP!” Azriel cried out in his mind. It was too much.

Azriel’s body began convulsing as a mixture of rage, heartbreak, and panic flew through him. “I KILLED HER. I KILLED HER. MY MATE. MY MATE. MY MATE.”

Rhys had no choice but to send out another wave of sedation to his brother.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next several weeks were spent in and out of sedation. Rhysand had found that Y/N’s father had been planning the attack for months, perhaps even longer. The camp was chosen for the first attack because of the party - a distraction to lessen the chances of interference from outsiders.

He planned to carry out more attacks throughout Illyria in coming months. Had it not been for Y/N, more would have happened. Her heroic actions prevented so many more losses than just the ones that were saved that night.

Azriel stayed bedridden for months - only leaving when Cassian and Rhys nagged him enough that it wasn’t worth the energy to refuse them. One day Rhys brought in a box, inside the box, Y/N’s knife and a journal. “She would have wanted you to have this.”

Azriel’s chest broke at the sight. Her mothers knife, the knife they’d spent hundreds of hours training with. He almost refused it but it felt like a piece of her. A reminder of her goodness, of the mate he lost.

That night he laid it under his pillow - an odd comfort as he read through the journal. The journal unveiling that she knew they were mates. His heart cracked further knowing that the reason she’d stepped out that night was likely to get some air after she saw him with Morrigan. “Stupid.” His inner thoughts cried out to him. How could he have been so blind?

He lay awake for half the night as he read through her journal - he sobbed for hours until his shadows finally lulled him to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

Truth-Teller

“Azriel” a soft voice whispered.

“Azriel” the lovely voice whispered again.

He was dreaming.

He tried to whisper her name but couldn’t speak.

“I don’t have much time, I need you to listen.”

He again attempted to speak but no sound came. He nodded his head.

A flash of light illuminated his mind and there she was. Somehow even more beautiful than she’d been - if that were possible. Her form illuminated with an incandescent glow, face full of light - a light that only came from insurmountable joy and happiness. And behind her, behind her were stunning golden feathered wings. An angel, his angel, stood before him… with six glowing siphons.

“Azriel, please do not cry for me. I am at peace. This was always my destiny. The lovely truth of my life was that all of the pain led me to you, I found a love, a friendship, that so few experience. Every step led me to where I am now and this afterlife is beautiful. The truth of life is that fate is inevitable.”

She waved a hand and out stepped more winged females. The females who died in the attack.

“What happened was not an accident, it was fate. You could not have changed the outcome. When you sent your power out toward me and the bond snapped, my power shot through the bond into you, reflecting back to me. You only sent out a small blast, the fatal blow came from my refracted power.”

Azriel’s eyes widened at the revelation. His heart still completely shattered but the guilt slightly lessened.

“When you sealed my fate it trapped a piece of my soul in the knife. I am forever bound to Truth-Teller. When you carry truth-teller you carry a piece of my power, of me, with you. Though, I will be with you regardless, as a part of me will always rest…” she held a delicate hand to her heart, “right here.”

His mind raced. Truth-Teller. What she’d named her knife after the truth of her mother was unveiled with it.

“I must go now, Azriel.” She waved an arm again to her fellow angels. “I am the keeper of the Mother’s gate and this is my legion. This was always my destiny - this and to love you. I will keep the bastards out and someday, someday far from now, I will hold the gate open for you.

Until then, may the truth set you free my love.”

A beautiful woman resembling Y/N stepped forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Her mother. The angels all nodded to Azriel in confirmation.

“My precious mate, I will love you for eternity.” Y/N whispered as she shot toward the sky - right into the most vibrant aurora he’d ever seen.

~~~~~~~~~~

Truth-Teller

500 Years Later

Azriel still thought of her every damn day, Truth-Teller never leaving his side. His North Star, the angel guiding him through life. He never told his brothers - didn’t know how to explain how that broken mating bond glowed inside him whenever his intuition failed. She’d guided him in her own way all of these years.

Leading up to the war with Hybern the tug became stronger and stronger. A warning of the strife to come.

For the first time since the night Rhys brought him her journal and Truth-Teller, she reappeared to him.

“Azriel.” Her melodic voice whispered, a sweet song serenading his soul.

“Azriel, I don’t have much time.” that honeyed voice whispered.

In the same fashion as last time, he couldn’t speak. Managing only to nod.

“I have carefully pulled the strings of fate as much as I am capable. A war is coming with a fate that I am unable to divulge. The Mother has allowed me to share just this:

“The fawn who sees carries the truth. When the time comes, you will know.”

Azriel furrowed his brows with confusion.

Y/N smiled softly, outshining any star in the sky, more captivating than the spirits of Starfall. “The truth will set you free. Do not fear loving again.”

He fought and fought, trying to speak, thrashing against the walls of his mind he was able to mutter three words to her.

“I love you.”

She placed a hand on her heart.

“I know, my love.”

Spreading those magnificent wings, she shot from his mind, the void filling with the echoes of her song.

“Until eternity reunites our souls.”

[poppyswriting]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐔𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑.

One shot! Neptune x reader.

summary: Life was tough, and with the spawn of your new job you encountered a really interesting fortune teller machine.

Tag list: @head-in-the-icloud and the anon who’s name I don’t have :c

Warnings: not any tbh, just a fluff and lots of love to Neptune!

Notes: This character is not mine!! It belongs to @head-in-the-icloud, you can check her work for more of Neptune!! And mostly because I wanted to write for her characters, they’re so cool and their art style?? Chef’s kiss tbh. This story may not be too good, just late night thoughts and silly writing. Anyways, enjoy!!

Life was tough, really tough. Prices were skyrocketing and the money you had was little. So it was little to anyone’s surprise that when you got the job at the Pizzaplex you were relieved to the core.

Who could’ve blamed you? The job payed thirty bucks the hour, for other people it wasn’t much but for you it was plenty. So when the day came you dressed up, cleaned your hair and was ready to go.

When you arrived to the Pizzaplex you were met with lots and lots of families, some kids running around and a group of teenagers. You stood there not knowing what to do, until a bot came over and started talking to you. “Welcome to the Pizzaplex! A place of Joy and entertainment. Would you please follow me?” You weren’t surprised since this place was known for its immense success and incredibly advanced technology. But it amused you seeing it finally in person.

The bot started to walk rather fast for your liking, making you jog sometimes because of the slight speed it took. While he was moving he started to blurt out the terms and policies of the building and what the staff was ordered to do. When he finished he gave you a map of the building, while indicating which parts were the employees only. Including the employees changing room and uniforms, so giving it a smile and walking away you decided to go over there and change.

You already had a list of tasks that the bot gave you once you entered the building. So at least you weren’t lost in most of the things to do, “let’s see, uh cleaning the bathrooms, taking gums and stuff out of the tables, cleaning some stuff at the arcade etc etc..” you thought to yourself while walking down the hallways to fulfill other tasks.

You did a pretty good job you could say, the bathrooms were really cleaned and the tables were set too. Although It surprised you the the amount of gum and some stickers stuck below the tables at the place. Guess some kids don’t want to stand up and look for the trash can. Now, you checked again your tasks list and saw the “cleaning the arcade” with a little list below of the things you had to clean.

In the arcade, you looked around to see all the colorful lights and the various games that were installed. No wonder why this place was so popular, it was big as hell! Surely kids could see this like heaven. “Okay now..” you said to yourself before going in and reading some of the machines you were supposed to be cleaning. Some of them were really neat and some of them had some dust on them, probably because they were on the corner.

Walking around the place, you stopped over your shoes and looked besides you. It was a somewhat big machine that had Neptune written in the top of it. Looking at it, you saw the big animatronic sitting in the middle and the arms in the sides. It amused you, and you couldn’t hold yourself into seeing what it was about. After all you were very curious yourself, so you took out a coin out of your pocket and insert it into the machine. Watching with intense curiosity when the head of the animatronic lit up and a “hi :>” popped in it.

You cracked a smile and said hi in a low tone, the animatronic seemed to scan you for a moment or at least that’s what you thought since it stood there watching you for a few seconds before a card popped in a small compartment of the machine. You took it and read it “A lot of fortune is coming to my way huh?” You quoted taking a look back to the animatronic who now it seemed to look at you.

You smiled at it, while putting the paper on your pocket. “I’m going to come back for you in a sec.” You could’ve sworn you saw its head move before waking away with a smile to clean other machines, it amused you and you really liked fortune tellers since you were a child. You didn’t really know why you just enjoyed them.

You walked around the arcade finishing your tasks from the other machines and going out of the arcade to finish up the others too. But while you were doing one you got the opportunity to talk with Freddy a little, I guess to introduce yourself better and he welcomed you to the Pizzaplex. You were of course first taken really off guard since The Freddy Fazbear the face of the whole Pizzaplex chain was talking to you. But he was really a nice guy, definitely someone you saw that you could talk at least. You didn’t met the other animatronics of the band, but you thought they might as well be nice too.

Of course the little chit chat didn’t last long thanks to a couple of families that wanted to take pictures with him along some of the children fighting to get his attention which you thought it was pretty cute and funny. You said your goodbyes before going back to your tasks and finally finishing them up by the time the store announced its closing, you smiled and went to the arcade before going to check out.

You came back to the fortune teller machine, you put a coin inside before he lit up and a card was deposited in the compartment. You took it and read it “Try to not worry about the money, the best things in life come free.” It said, you giggled at this

“Not trying to be rude, but with this economy I think I do have to worry about the money.” You looked up and you were suddenly taken aback when the animatronic moved his head to the side in sign of confusion. Mimicking your expression almost right away in his face-ball, your sight changed to one with curiosity at this. Okay so he can mimic expressions, noted. You could’ve stayed longer but your thoughts were distracted at the sound of the speaker saying “The store is now closed.” Meaning that it was definitely time to clock out, made sure you had your things on you before moving to the exit but not before waving a goodbye to the machine as you went to check out.

After this encounter, you decided to make this a regular thing. You clocked in, you did your tasks and you went to the fortune teller machine. But you started to notice that slowly, the papers started to get a little bit more personal than just random fortune telling. You started to get papers like “remember to eat” mostly when you skipped your lunches without knowing it, but how could he know when you did it? And “Are you okay?” Questions when you were feeling a little down, you didn’t know if it was because he could sense it or if you were obvious. But you shrugged it off telling him that you were okay and that there was nothing to worry about.

But strangely, that day was the day that you got sick. You got sick when you woke up in the morning and you had to call in to tell the staff management that you couldn’t come. That was for three days before you could recover, and when you did you received a little pep talk by Freddy when you arrived to the Pizzaplex on how you should keep an eye on yourself and how you should stay more cautious. Since you were still trying to beat what was little left from the cold you had you forgot to visit the fortune teller animatronic that day.

But it felt strange to you that all the time you were working you felt a pair of eyes on you if that was even possible. But when you turned around to see if anybody needed help or if there was even someone there, you were met with.. nothing. Nothing on sight. Maybe you did really needed to take a look on your lunch and stop skipping them.

That day felt strange, but when you arrived home was when you realized that you didn’t visit your fortune teller that day. You felt guilty, but also you felt a little curious about the feeling of being watched. Maybe it was just some random staff bot who was wondering around and it looked at you doing your job. Yeah, that had to be it.

So when the next day came, you made sure to try and do your tasks a little bit faster so that you could go to the machines and talk a little with the animatronic. Now that you thought of it, you didn’t really knew his name, so you decided on now refer to him as Neptune since that was the big name written all over the top of the machine. Figures too thanks to his planet-like appearance, you took a look at your clock before realizing that it was already lunch time. So this time you wouldn’t skip it, leaving one of the brooms aside and taking the lunch that you actually had time to pack that day. It consisted of a sandwich and a chocolate milk box that you bought from the cafeteria at the Pizzaplex.

Looking for a quiet place to eat, you felt the pair of eyes looking at you again. You tried to shrug it off by thinking of some random staff bot looking at you, so looking forward you were able to find a spot. It was a room that had employees only written on the door, the room looked pretty old and worn out you took a wild guess it was because there hasn’t been a lot of human staff since the great technology that this place had they really didn’t need them.

So you sat on the chair besides the table and decided to eat there. Checking your phone and scrolling through social media for a while now. But the feeling of being watched only intensified when your eyes were on the screen, so you looked up and you were suddenly shocked to see the planet-like animatronic looking right at you. “Jesus christ-!” You said before catching your phone from almost falling since it slipped from your hand.

“You can’t be scaring people like that!” You scolded, it really took the soul out of you seeing him so suddenly in front of you. “I thought you couldn’t get out of that machine since, well you’re always there.” You watched as the animatronic took a card out of his pocket and hand it over to you “I can get out, and move around with it too.” You read

“Well that explains it.” with a sigh, you left the card on the table trying to clear up your thoughts about what just happened before feeling two cold hands make their way to your cheeks. Holding them while the animatronic looked deeply at you, with worry you could’ve sworn. One of the other pair of arms handed over another card meanwhile the upper couple of hands were kept on your cheeks.

“Are you alright? I haven’t seen you around the last few days.” it read. You smiled at this but also felt a bit guilty by not coming to visit him. “Yeah, I just got sick. I’m sorry if I worried you.” You tried to smile it off, but you felt the pair of hands leave your cheeks as the animatronic sat next to you. “You aren’t much of a talker, can you even talk?” The animatronic moved its head to the sides, so he couldn’t talk? Well that explained the cards. You didn’t mind, as long as he could communicate someway it was okay for you.

Then, the animatronic pointed at the sandwich which was now long forgotten in the table. You chuckled at this taking it and taking a bite out of it for Neptunes satisfaction. You watched by the corner of your eye how his fingers were trying to really slowly get with yours. You smiled and drew your hand closer to his, and slowly intertwined your fingers with his and holding hands after. It was very peaceful, just how you liked it. When you finished your sandwich you stood up, noticing how Neptune shot you a concerned look for both of your hands.

“It’s okay, we can stay like this. I really don’t mind.” You reassured, watching how he nodded and stood up too. Since lots of the families were already leaving and the places you had tasks left to do were completely alone, you managed to do your tasks with Neptune by your side. It was funny how he watched with curiosity how you did some of them. It seemed like it was going to be a long night.

But even if it was, you didn’t mind any of it as long as you had your fortune teller besides you.

[mischiefnevermanaged89-blog]

Love Me Like You Do

Juice Ortiz X Reader Fic

*Hello my dears! Please be patient with me as this is my 1st SOA fic! Thought I’d try it out here with you wonderful peeps! Now, a little about this story:

Reader is Opie’s half little sister (we’re going to say they share Piney as a dad, she has a different mother than Ope)

She returns home to Charming to own her own business

Reader is plus sized (since that is what I identify as and can write from personal experience)

This may not follow the seasons. It’s an idea that popped in my head from the song it’s named after. I hope you enjoy it! Please, feedback is appreciated!*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~He was the missing piece I didn’t know I needed until he walked into my life. The day I returned home, that’s when I met him. That was the day my life changed. ~

I stood in the middle of the old building, just coming from signing the paperwork to make it mine, for a cheap price I might add, from the old man who used to own it. I couldn’t help but smile. My smile grew bigger as I heard the motorcycles pulling up out front. This is what I had been waiting for.

My back was still turned to the doors as they opened, sending a ray of sunlight in, illuminating the place better.

“We’re looking for the new owner of this old place. Know where I can find him?” A deep voice boomed in the almost empty space.

I chuckled. “Yeah, but it’s not a him. I just bought it off of old man Sinsom.”

“I know that voice.”

“Me,too.”

I smiled as I turned to see my older half brother Opie and his best friend, Jax, standing in front of Jax’s stepfather.

“Hello, boys. It’s good to see you.”

Opie laughed as he strode over and pulled me into a hug. “(Y/N)! When did you get back?”

“Today. Well, last night actually. Drove up so I could sign the papers making this place mine.” I waved my hands around me.

“It’s good to see you, Darlin.” Jax said as he hugged me tight.

“You, too.” I stood back and looked at them. “I see you grew up and got VP Teller.”

Jax nodded. “Yeap.”

I looked at the other guys standing behind them. “Well, I’ll be damned! Is that Tiggy?”

Tig smiled and opened his arms. “Hey, baby. It’s good to see you all grown up.”

I gave him a hug, him being my second favorite when I grew up around here. “It’s only been three years since I last seen you.”

“Hi, Bobby. It’s good to see you, too.”

“You, too, sweetheart. You’re old man’s gonna have a fit when he sees you.”

“Speaking of, where is he?”

Bobby nodded his head towards the door. “He’s comin’. Takes him a few to get around with the oxygen.”

Just then, the doors opened and in walked Piney. The man still looked the same as he did three years ago. I couldn’t help the smile on my face when I seen him.

“Hi, daddy.”

“My god. (Y/N). You’re back. Come here, sweetheart.” He smiled.

I gave him a hug and just held him. I had missed him the last few years, I missed them all. He held me in front of him by my shoulders and looked me up and down. “Still as beautiful as ever.”

“Oh, Opie. You didn’t tell me he’d went senile.”

Opie laughed. “He gets that way sometimes.”

“What? No love for me? I’m wasting away over here.”

I turned to see Clay with an arrogant smirk on his face. I gave him a quick hug. “It’s good to see you, Clay. How’s Gemma?”

He shrugged. “She’s good. Be glad to see you.”

I nodded. Before I could say anything else, there was the sound of someone clearing their throat.

“Oh, shit. Sorry, man. (Y/N), this is Juice. He’s been with us a few years now. Juice, this is my baby sister, (Y/N).” Opie said as he wrapped an arm around my shoulder.

I held out my hand to the younger of them. “Nice to meet you.”

He nodded. “You, too.”

He took my hand and I swore I could feel electricity run through my fingers at his touch. I cleared my throat and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

“So, sweetheart, what brings you back to Charming?” Dad asked.

“Well, I came back to get a new start. Mom’s pissed at me. Grandfather passed away a few months ago and left me everything. And I mean everything. She got pissed when he left her out the will. Saying, and I quote, ‘I leave all my monetary and physical possessions, including the house and vehicles, to my only granddaughter, who was my world when no one else loved me in my final years. To my daughter, I leave you with nothing but the hopeful guilt you feel for abandoning your family. May you rot in hell.’”

“Holy shit! Seriously?” Jax asked, amused.

I nodded. “Yeap. And the best part is, she cannot touch anything. I sold the house after he died. It was just us the last three years and I wanted to come home. So I sold the house and all but one car.”

“So, what are you doing with this old place?” Clay asked.

“I’m going to do what I’ve always wanted to do. Own my own business. And what better way than to open up a roadside bar on the outskirts of Charming?”

“Really? That’s what you’ve always wanted to do?” Tig asked.

“Yeah. Got my business degree online while I was taking care of Grandfather and took all the right courses to get all my licenses. Found this place while looking to come home and here I am.”

“What do you need from us, darlin?”

“Some labor. I got to get this place up to code. I’m calling tomorrow to get people in here to work on the wiring and the old kitchen. I just need some help to take everything out and clean up. Plus I got to find a tech wizard to help me set up security cameras.”

“We can do that. Got a prospect that can come and we got our own tech wizard.” Jax clapped Juice in the shoulder. “Juice here is the best when it comes to all that techy shit.”

I looked at the young Puerto Rican and smiled. “Well, Juice, looks like the two of us will become friends if your as good as they say you are.”

He gave me a shy smile. “Yeah. Maybe so.”

I clapped my hands together. “Well, as wonderful as this family reunion is, I want a shower and some takeout.”

“Where you staying?” Dad asked.

“Place has a little house out back. It’s semi furnished enough to stay in tonight until my stuff arrives tomorrow.”

“Why don’t you come to the house. Surprise Donna and the kids. Have dinner with us.”

“Okay. I’ll be there. Seven?”

Opie nodded. “Yeah. See you tonight.” He hugged me and kissed the side of my head.

After hugging all the guys, minus Juice, I waved them off, noticing Juice was the last one out. I smiled to myself as I walked out the back door to my little apartment house to get ready for dinner.

[dailyadventureprompts]

Dungeon: The Cankerwood House

The near disastrous collapse of a mine in the moorlands leads to the discovery of a network of tunnels winding deep into the earth, apparently carved out by the spread of a multitude of unnatural, withered trees as they’ve grown towards the surface. Descending to find the source of this corruption, the party stumble across an inexplicable sight: a grand manor house occupying a deep and inhospitable cavern, rotten roots springing from its beams and foundations.

More than decay haunts this ancient home, so the party will need to watch their step before they too become apart of the tragedy that lingers within.

Background: Tragedy is the heart of many parables. The terrible fates of the unwise, unlucky, or unkind  that serve to reinforce a moral lesson. How awful it must be then to become a lesson, not a person remembered for who you were but a mistake, made over and over again with each retelling.

The folk of the high hills could tell you such a tale, of the life and mistakes of one Helena Ornith, a girl born too pretty for her own good. If you listen to the story as it’s most often told, Helena was the daughter of a pair of farmers, who had suitors lined up out door and all the way to the fence looking for their daughter’s hand. Helena however was picky, she ignored the matches her parents favoured or the lovestruck beaus with their wildflowers and instead entertained wealthy gentleman who could bring her frivolities from afar. One day a man showed up with a handsome black carriage and a boast that he could beat the gift of any suitor, though the exact number of these challengers and what they offered changes depending on the teller. A grower with a profitable orchard is outbid by a bushel of fruit all made of gemstones, a hard working and heartfelt veteran-farmer is outpaced by a bull that never tired of the plow and sensed trespassers in the night, an honest cloth merchant with a pretty dress is outdone by a shawl that could become any garment imaginable. Sensing that there is something wrong with the man in the black cartridge, Helena’s parents forbid her from entertaining him only to have her run off with him in the night. Following the tracks of the carriage across the countryside, the couple and their neighbours find that the trail winds off the road, and into a maw like and bottomless pit that had not been there the day before. Helena, in her stubbornness and pride, had held out for the only suitor that could have satisfied her impossible standards... a supernatural creature that grew tired of her mortal wavering and dragged her down to it’s lightness lair when it decided to make up her mind for her.

The true history is a little different, The Orniths were indeed country folk, but had done well enough that by the time Helena was born her parents had plenty of farms and enough wealth to have others do most of the tilling for them. They had always taught Helena that she was a prize, one worthy only of the one able to bring the best advantage to the family.  One of the properties they owned had an old tree, one that Helena would take shelter under when she was tired of her endless social obligations as alone amid it’s branches was the only place she could truly speak her mind.  What no one could have known ( save perhaps the family who the Orniths had badgered off the land) was that tree was once a sacred thing, blessed by the fey, and like all fey things it existed half in the waking world, and half in the world of wonders. Helena spoke of the faults of her suitors, and the feywild listened, she poured out her fantasies and the feywild gave them shape, and when she whispered of her desire to leave her life behind, the feywild sent a black carriage to fetch her away.

Whether Helena was happy after she eloped is impossible to say. Faerie has a way of twisting good to bad and bad to good, and like a parable the original details can become lost in their own echo. The house she had imagined for herself so full of life became a living, parasitic thing. Her infatuation with her betrothed became obsession, caustic and tempestuous.  Their marriage bond a chain that bound her to their hearth no matter how far into the caverns she walked. As her story refused to fade, it metastasized, poisoned by the imaginings of others, until the house grew roots and began seeking upward like a seed, poisoning the land as the people on it poisoned her memory.

Challenges & Complications:

Getting down to Cankerwood house is more than a simple descent, as the party will not just have to navigate caverns, but a jump into the subterranean reaches of the feywild.  Beasts of the deep earth are joined by vampiric root monsters, twigblights, and dryads driven to madness with rot and sorrow.

Perhaps most dangerous threat is the spirit of Helena Ornith herself,  her spirit stretched thin and wraithlike as the chain that links her to her prison stretches the distance with more links. Immortal thanks to her time in farie, The closer she gets to the surface, the more disoriented and monsterous she becomes, and the party will likely have clashed with her once or more by the time they find the house itself. Only within the bounds of the house will she lose her ghostly qualities and regain her faculties, atleast until the timeless nature of the feywild takes over and she loses herself once again. 

The house itself is a maze, rotten rooms folding in on eachother as only a strucuture in faerie can. Here all the treasures and horrors of Helena’s parable wait, from an orchard of gemstones to a rampaging guardian bull. Helena’s suitor likewise wanders the space, as much a prisoner as her, shifting between inhuman monster, sadistic rake, and charming rescuer without warning. This last persona desperately wants to aid in Helena’s escape, and will do his best to aid the party inbetween fits of possessive cruelty.

There is more at work in Cankerwood house than simply the cruel whims of the feywild, Zuggtmoy, demon queen of rot and regret has taken hold of Helena’s tale, sustaining the story by sapping life from the land through the spreading roots. As the party progresses, she moves to stop them, vicariously protecting her own happiness by sustaining Helena’s blighted fairytale.

To destroy the house and set Helena’s spirit free, the party must uproot the story, casting away each of the suitor’s gifts, and bringing her spirit back to the ruins of her family home. To do this they must sever the chain that binds her, which means convincing Helena and her suitor to renounce their oath of love and fidelity, a selfless act of closure that Zuggtmoy will not allow, forcing both lovers into their very worst ( and most monstrous) forms in order to halt.

With a sorrowful goodbye and one last journey to the surface ( possibly using the same black carriage sent to carry Helena away), the party deliver their charge to the doorstep of the old Ornith farmhouse just in time to watch her begin to dissipate. Her spirit will be free to rest, and her name will fade from the parable it inspired... taking with it the curse that has laid on the moorlands, leaving the party with only a few treasures of their time in the feywild, and memories of their selfless heroism.

[chippedshake]

Barty had met Regulus and Evan just a couple hours ago, having sat together on the Hogwarts Express after making it very clear to them that he was a pureblood. Despite that having been the only reason they chose to sit with them, Barty rather liked the pair, and he decided he wanted to be friends with them.

Now they were all trying to fall asleep, away from home for the first time. As Barty tosssed and turned for what seemed like the hundredth time, a voice rung out in the darkness.

"Do you know any horror stories?"

Barty told them a story his sister had told him (shut up he has an older sister now because I say so) about a ghost that apparently lived at Hogwarts, picking off weak first years to purify the castle.

Regulus told a story his brother had told him (not that the other two had to know where it came from) about a woman who killed her husband and buried the body in her backyard.

Evan told a story about a man who was nervous, yes, nervous, but not insane. He killed his acquaintance because his eye was horrible. He cut him to bits and stuffed him under the floorboard. When the police came, his heart was beating so loud he confessed.

Barty didn't sleep that night, kept awake by a heart-like pounding and the image of a bloodshot, blue eye.

The tradition of telling horror stories continued throughout first year, and Evan outdid the other two every night. Eventually, it stopped being a time for them all to share their stories, and Evan adopted the role of the story-teller.

He told them of madmen and murderers and deceiving old men and suspicious widows. His ideas never seemed to run out.

Slowly, his stories turned from horror to thriller, to mystery, to adventure, to romance, and they all mixed and mingled amongst themselves. As they grew older, his stories grew longer, and he would often tell them along the course of a couple nights, sometimes a week or two.

He wove masterpieces, stories of every genre, with every sort of character, with every sort of plot. He spoke of a boy named Holden in an unnamed city being expelled from his school and spending days alone, wandering around, his parents unaware of his expulsion. He told the story of an exiled man who forgot his parents, and then killed his father and married his mother, having children with her before realizing his horrifying mistake. They spent several nights following the story of four teenagers like themselves, stuck in a complex love square, with amortentia and a troublesome house elf giving everyone the wrong potion. Several more were spent with a boy and a girl, deeply in love, but with families that despised each other.

They all had their own favourite story.

Regulus's was the one about the pair of siblings taken by a witch. She wanted to eat them, but the siblings worked together and escape. He always got a nostalgic look on his face when Evan would tell it, and while he didn't say anything, it was rather evident who he was thinking about.

Barty's was the one about the teenage boys at Hogwarts from a couple decades ago, who used to sneak out to read poetry to each other in a cave. He liked to imagine a world where he was carefree enough to wander around the grounds, looking for hidden nooks to read in, and spend time with his friends.

Evan loved to tell the story about the warriors who sieged a city. He followed the story of two of them: one of them nearly invincible (all but his famous heel), the other a weakling, wearing the one's armour. He never got through the story of their deaths without crying.

Evan refused to tell them stories for the first month of sixth year. His eyes drifted to his left arm when he told them he couldn't continue, his face falling with guilt. He didn't tell them why he picked up the habit again in October.

The stories turned darker. They turned into stories of oppression, of hatred, of injustice. They turned more raw. Unjust imprisonments, irrational hate thrown at someone for unknown reasons.

He would stop for weeks at a time, telling them he was too tired to think of any stories. Barty and Regulus were too exhausted themselves to worry about him.

He told his last story the night Regulus didn't return from his "short errand". It was about a girl that brought pastries to her grandmother. It was a bit short, and more lighthearted than anything he'd told since sixth year, but it was a decent enough distraction from the fact that their friend should've been home by then.

They had more important things to do, after that. They devoted themselves entirely to the Dark Lord, to finding the bastard that killed their best friend, and giving him the slowest and most painful death they could manage.

It was with this devotion, this hatred, this vengeance settled deep in his heart that Barty duelled Moody, Evan at his side. He threw a couple curses, eyes darting around for exits. He coudn't find any. They couldn't win this fight, he was sure of it. They needed an escape plan. If there was just a momentary distraction, he could apparate out of there.

"Bee, careful with your-"

A flash of green.

Barty fell asleep alone that night, and the silence had never been louder.

He realized as he woke up the next morning, alone for the first time in eight years, that he would never again hear Evan whisper another story, laughing or crying under his breath, struggling to get the words out. He would never again catch Regulus's eye during a story, both of them staring at Evan in awe at the way he wove his words together, creating beautiful tapestries every night. He would never find out where Evan's true inspiration came from.

Or at least not until years later, when he would be browsing his father's library and would find a compilation of Edgar Allan Poe's short stories. Not until the moment when he would read The Tell-Tale Heart, and would realize that it was the same story Evan had told them that fateful night during first year. Not until he would find The Catcher in the Rye, Oedipus, A Midsummer Night's Dream, Romeo and Juliet, Hansel and Gretel, The Dead Poets Society, The Iliad. Not until he would realize that his friend had been crying out for help. He'd been crying out for help every night seven years, and no one had heard him. He'd never believed the cause he was fighting for, the cause he'd died for. And now that Barty had finally heard him, it was too late to save him.

[hawthorneonarainyday]

Who We Are - Steve Harrington (1)

Prologue | Steve 2 | Eddie | Billy | Ian

The two of them had been friends for twenty-two years now. They'd grown up right next to each other, casually holding hands for all their lives. What neither of them had ever considered, though, was that their relationship could ever be anything else. They were just them, Steve and her. Right? Attention! - This is the second part of 'Grey Overalls and Rainy Days'. Please read that one first if you haven't yet! Information you might need ♥ ~ Word Count: 15.648 3rd Person (She/Her) Flashbacks will be presented in completely cursive to better distinguish between now and then, since tumblr doesn't really have the best typesetting options.

In this chapter you will find: Rain, cursing, a down in the dumps Steve, slow-burn childhood bestfriends to lovers, a lot of physical contact, canon tinkering, flashbacks and a fuck ton of spoilers for the 80s movie 'Beaches'. There will be mentions of food and eating, blood, canon level violence, loss, grief, shock, death, sex, trauma, bad parenting, sexual harrassment (specifically at dates) alcohol and reader having her period so please remain careful, my children! At one point reader will be loosely compared to Molly Ringwald, but to not alienate anyone I'll explicitly say that it is not because reader looks like her. It can be, if you want it to, but it's definitely not required. I point that out loud and clear and Steve will do so too, so please don't feel put out by that.

Enjoy ♥

The days rain still lay in the air, although the drops themselves had stopped – for now. Petrichor was still wafting all around them, now with tiny hints of cool night air. Hawkins population was slowly but surely getting home for the night. Mothers ushered their kids ahead of them, teenage girls locked their bedroom doors but unlocked their windows and most of Hawkins general stores were flipping their signs from ‘OPEN’ to ‘CLOSED’.

That was something she did as well.

Eddie held the door open and she skipped out into the night, glad she decided to not deal with the taxes for now. The metalhead himself was talking about a campaign he would love to throw for the party, but didn’t really have the time to and she was reminded of how good a story teller he was. No wonder the boys still loved to invite him around as a dungeon master whenever they got the chance.

“So, I was thinking I’d add in this really messed up dragon hybrid and he’s g- hey isn’t that Harringtons car?” Blinking at the rather rapid change of subject, she followed his pointing and damn straight. That was the red BMW she’d spent all day cleaning.

“Uh…yeah, actually. It is.” Her brows furrowed as she squinted into the night, trying to make out the familiar lines of Steve’s nose and hair.

And sure enough, there he was. Slumped behind the driver’s seat with his head down, one hand grabbing the steering wheel. “What the…Uhm, Eddie, gimme a minute.”

“Sure, go ahead. I’ll wait in the van?”

“Yeah, thanks.” With one shimmy, she shouldered her bag properly and jogged on over to Steve. He didn’t look up as she came closer, not giving her much choice but to knock at the window. Inside, Steve flinched, his hand letting go of the wheel and grabbing his chest. The shock didn’t last long though, because just a moment later he was rolling the window down.

“Jesus, don’t do that to me. You’ll give me a heart attack.”

“Your fault for not noticing me.” Chuckling, she leaned down to peer into the car, trying to see the mysterious flower shop girl. Why would she be there? Well, it wasn’t the first time Steve made a pit stop on one of his dates just to drive her home real quick. The red BMW, however, was completely empty aside from Steve. “Steve, what are you doing here? I thought you had a date.” The man in question just sighed and let his head fall back against the headrest. There was a slight pout to his face. “Steve?”

“Listen. Wanna cash in those burgers now? We could grab some and then go…I dunno, somewhere.”

“Uhm…I mean, yeah. Sure. Why not. Let me just tell Eddie, okay?”

“Eddie?”

“Yeah, he came by earlier and offered to drive me home.”

“Oh. Okay, yeah, go ahead. I’ll wait.”

“But Steve, what about…?”

“Just…forget about that, okay?” The way he said it was more than pleading. Even if she didn’t like it, she nodded and jogged on over to Eddie’s car. He was already inside, the van running and waiting. Unlike Steve, he immediately noticed her getting closer and rolled down the window.

“You’re going with him, I take?”

“Yeah, sorry Eddie. I think…I don’t know, I think he needs some company.”

“It’s fine, Princess, you go check on him. But I demand full intel tomorrow!” She chuckled.

“I’ll see what I can do ‘bout that. Thanks Eddie.”

“See ya, princess!” The van roared to life with a deep growl and she stepped away from the window. It didn’t take long for Eddie to leave the car park behind. She reached Steve’s car just as quickly. A simple pull on the door handle and she plopped into the seat with a content sigh.

Steve’s car just felt… right.

Over the years, she’d spent so much time in that passenger seat that it felt more like home than the single wide she actually called home. Steve next to her watched her buckle herself in before wordlessly putting the car into gear. She didn’t ask where they were going, he didn’t offer any intel on the matter.

They didn’t have to.

Neither of them spoke. Steve veered the car through what Hawkins called ‘evening rush’ with practiced ease while she gazed out of the window next to her. She could see Joyce Byers locking up the door to Melvald’s General Store, still in her uniform. Next door in Radio Shack, there was still light burning. Maybe some last-minute repairs or something. Or maybe the guy working there had forgotten to turn them off. Who knew?

New, fresh rain was starting to dribble down the window, obscuring her view. Within moments, the world outside was turned into a blurry mess of colours and shapes. She could still vaguely tell where they were simply because it was the town she’d lived in for all of her life, but it got harder and harder. Soon, she had to turn her eyes to the windshield, it being the only place that still offered a semi-clear view. The windshield wipers were going left and right in their own rhythm, as if something invisible spurred them on. Well, she knew how they worked. But where was the mystery in that?

Watching the wipers do their job was…hypnotic. Without actively choosing to do so, her eyes were following their path left and right and left and right and she could feel herself get drowsy. Though that was probably less the wipers and more the fact that she’d gotten up early and worked a lot more than expected. Her day was supposed to be mainly office stuff plus the cunninghams car, and yet…

“Tired?” Steve asked, his finger rhythmically tapping against the steering wheel, led by the indicators soft ‘click click click click’. She sighed and sank back further into the seat.

“Yeah.”

“You could’ve said something. I can take you home.”

“It’s fine. It’s just the drive.” Steve hummed lightly.

“Of course it is.”

The boy pulled into the car park of Rosemary’s Diner with ease. If it weren’t so dangerous and irresponsible, she would’ve challenged him to do it with his eyes closed. Honestly, he might actually pull it off. They’d been here often enough. While most people preferred Benny’s Diner, both Steve and her had always chosen Rosemary’s whenever they got a chance. Mostly when it was just the two of them.

Sure, she’d pestered Ian sometimes to go with her. And, far as she was aware, Steve had brought some dates here over the years. Both of them had dragged their little group of misfits with them more than once and while they rarely complained, they both knew that this place never clicked quite as well with the rest of them. Maybe it was the food, maybe it was the atmosphere and maybe it was just the fact that she and Steve had been coming here ever since they were old enough to go to a diner on their own.

Inside, the lights were bright and welcoming, just like always.

Steve held the door for her and she stepped inside, both manoeuvring the etablissement with well-practised ease. Down the checkered tiles to the second to last booth – second to last, never the one before or after that – where both of them dropped down into their favoured seats at the same time. Her back was facing the door, while Steve liked to be able to survey the entire room. Menus were pushed aside; they would order the usual thing anyway. Doreen, their favourite waitress, saw them from afar and nodded towards them. Not to indicate anything, just recognition.

The seats hissed familiarly with every move she made as she drew her legs under her in a position that should be uncomfortable but really wasn’t. Steve was already slouched back into the burgundy leather of his booth, his face…complicated.

That was probably the best thing to call it.

It wasn’t an expression she knew from Steve, which should be impossible after over twenty years together. But then again, one was never done learning. That probably applied to people as well.  

“Hey you guys, nice to have you back!” She raised her head to meet the dark brown eyes of Doreen with a smile. The older waitress was grinning down at them, her braided hair pulled back into a ponytail that made her seem a lot younger than she was. There were some stains on her pale-yellow uniform, likely coffee, but other than that she looked at dewy as ever.

“Hiya Doreen. How’s it going?” She offered while Steve just nodded semi-friendly. Normally, she would have kicked his shins for that, but she accepted it for today. At least he’d greeted her at all. Doreen had noticed too, apparently, because she threw him a knowing glance but kept quiet.

“Ah, you know. Same as always in this old thing. Enough guests to keep it running but never many.” She shrugged. “You’re getting the usual?”

“Sure, we are.”

“Neat-o! So that’d be two cheeseburgers – one without onions – a large basket of fries with mayonnaise and ketchup and two shakes – strawberry and vanilla. Did I miss anything?” She couldn’t help but grin at that.

“Perfect like always, Doreen. Thanks.” Doreen nodded and turned on her heels, and she remembered another thing. “Oh hey, Doreen?”

“Yeah?”

“Add a coffee to that. As strong as you can legally brew it, yeah?”

“Oooh, the order changed. Exciting!” Steve rolled his eyes and she grinned. “Consider it done, sweet thing. Won’t be long.”

“Thanks!” Doreen strolled back over to the kitchen, leaving both her and Steve to themselves. The latter was still quietly staring into the void, his mind clearly somewhere else. Worry dipped her brows as she watched him. She’d seen Steve after bad dates often enough. Sometimes he was annoyed, sometimes he was angry. Sometimes he was sad but tried to act like he wasn’t, fully knowing that she knew, and sometimes he was just plain sad. Those were the things she expected. A ranty, maybe whiny, Steve. A mopey, pouty Steve. Maybe even a sad one.

But he wasn’t any of those things.

On the contrary, behind the complicatedness of it all, he looked…defeated? Reserved? Maybe both. Like a man that had failed. Or better: A man that had given up. She’d seen that face on someone else before, and it hadn’t been a good thing. She didn’t really like seeing it on Steve.

“I’m fine.” He said and she blinked in surprise.

“What?”

“I’m fine.” Steve sighed, kicking her dangling leg softly. “Stop staring holes in my face. And unfurrow your brows, you’ll get wrinkly, old girl.” She scoffed.

“I wouldn’t need to furrow my brows if your soul stopped taking a smoke break, you know?” But her fingers rubbed over the space between her brows anyway. “’Old girl’, really? Tsk.” Steve rolled his eyes and she turned towards the large window to her left. She couldn’t see much with the outside being nearly pitch black and the inside brightly lit. So instead of seeing the car park, she saw her own sorry expression staring back at her.

“Shit.” Edging closer to the window, she surveyed her own appearance with disdain.

She looked horrendous.

Since she came here directly from work, she was still clad in her stupid overalls. She should really start packing a change of clothes…She didn’t have too many nice clothes anyway but the grey work overalls must have been amongst the worst she owned. They were built for practicality and comfort, with a whole bunch of pockets and the loose fit. But they didn’t look great. This one, the one she was wearing today, was especially bad since she hadn’t gotten around to altering it. It was an ill fit in most places and it was stained. Fine for work, not so much for anything else.

And, of course, her hair was a mess as well. It stuck up in weird places and It was extremely greasy after a days’ worth of work. She had a sweaty job, alright? And in front of her boys – and Steve – she didn’t mind. They’d seen her look worse and she’d seen them look worse. But she felt iffy sitting in a diner like that. God, she hadn’t even wiped her face, had she? It was probably greasy as well.

“You could have told me I look like crap.” She muttered, wiping her face with her sleeve before getting to work on her hair. She couldn’t salvage much but she could damn well try.

“You look like you always do.”

…Ouch.

She send the boy a glare and let go of her hair. Not better, but at least differently messy. Oh well, it was what it was. Nothing she could do about it now, was there?

Steve was back to being zoned out. So much so, that he didn’t even notice that Doreen brought their food until she kicked his shins. He flinched, blinked, and looked around confusedly. She rolled her eyes and grappled for his plate. Using just two fingers, she’d picked out the pickles Steve so seemed to detest and replaced them with one of her tomatoes. Sure, he could just have ordered the burger without pickles and with extra tomatoes, but why bother?

Happy with her fixing job, she got to the fries, each one loaded up with mayonnaise, before tackling her burger. The smell alone caused her to feel extremely ravenous, to be perfectly honest, and she nearly melted when her teeth sunk into the goodness that was this burger.

With each bite, she felt the crispy softness of the bun, the crunch of fresh salad and tomatoes as well as the greasy cheese-patty combo. And in combination with the slight tang of Rosemary’s mystery sauce? To die for. Really, in an apocalypse she would likely murder for this burger alone.

Steve didn’t seem to agree, though. At least not today. Usually, the boy inhaled his food much faster than she ever could and she always had to battle him for the fries. Otherwise, he’d eat all of them and leave her high and dry for some oily potato sticks. Likely the reason why she’d started to eat the fries first and her burger last, since Steve did it exactly the other way around.

But today, the Harrington boy picked apart his burger slowly and thoughtfully. Sauce and grease quickly covered his fingers, which he didn’t seem to notice. Only a few bites made it into his mouth each time he looked conscious before he was right back to mindlessly playing with his food. He didn’t say a thing while they ate - and sure, she was more than fine with just existing around him. The two of them were long over the need to always do something together. She couldn’t count the days they had wasted away without talking, lounging around in the same bubble but each doing their own thing. They were masters at just existing in the same space.

In combination with his current mood, however, she felt her patience start to wear thin. It wasn’t even really because of him or his mood, it was because she didn’t know what was going on and thus didn’t know what to do about it. She couldn’t really help Steve if he didn’t open his big gob.

After nearly fourty five minutes of complete silence, spent exclusively watching him pick apart the burger into goddamn atoms, she pulled out her wallet and threw some cash on the table. Enough to pay for the both of them. That, finally, got Steve out of his reverie.

“Hey, we said it’s my treat.”

“Yeah, fuck that, Harrington. You can pay me back later.” Sighing, she fished out some wet wipes from her handbag and wiped his hands. He just let it happen, watching her closely as she wiped remnants of grease and sauce of his phalanges. “Come on. Let’s go somewhere, I need to stretch my legs before I fall asleep sitting up.” He winced.

“Sorry. I can take you home now.”

“Why, trying to get rid of me now, are we?”

“You know that’s never it.”

“Yeah, I know. Come on, up with you.” Not letting go of his hand, she rose from her seat and pulled him up with her. “Bye Doreen!”

“Bye guys!” The older woman waved them goodbye from behind the counter, not even checking if they’d left money. Even if they did forget, they’d be back before it could actually be missed. Not that that ever happened before.

Outside, Steve naturally tried to head towards the car, but her hand in his stopped him. Confused, he turned towards her, keys already in hand and pointing towards his car.

“The car is over there.”

“Sure is. But we’re not going to your car just yet.”

“Huh?” She rolled her eyes.

“I told you. I need to stretch my legs. The ten steps from our booth to your car don’t really do the trick.”

“Wait, what do you mean?” Groaning, she let go of his hand only to get behind him and push him along.

“I mean: Move your arse, Harrington, we’re taking a god damn walk.”

“Ugh, but it’s raining.”

“Cry me a river!” She scoffed and pushed on. “You know, you’re no basketballer anymore. Some exercise might actually be good for you, dumbass.”

“I hate walks!”

“Move your god damn legs!” He did, reluctantly so.

At first, he was going annoyingly slow, obviously trying to not get too far away from the car in case she suddenly decided it was enough walking for a day. The more steps they took however, the more he picked up on speed. It took only a few minutes for them to reach a comfortable pace, easily falling into a rhythmic step beside each other.

The sky was still leaking above them, rain coating them in a fine spray of water that would feel incredibly wet the longer they left it there. But, in a way, it was a nice walk anyway. And what did her mum always say?

‘Light exercise is the best way to sort out a muddled mind, pumpkin. And nothing helps more than walking. Back home, I’d often walk the length of a town, just trying to get my brain in order!’

The memory had her throat tighten up for a moment.

One should really thing that four years would take care of grief, but in the end they didn’t do shit. It still felt the same, whenever she thought about her family. That couldn’t be normal, could it? Or maybe it was. Who knew.

Steve’s shoulder bumped against hers, pulling her attention back to him. Once again, he looked lost in thought. Less zoned out, but still not completely here. His brown eyes, nearly black with the absence of light, were pointedly focused on the ground below them and his hands were shoved into the pockets of his jean-jacket.

With another sigh, she looped her arm through his and looked up at him. He barely turned his face towards her, brows raised – a silent half-question. Which, she decided, wasn’t enough right now. She slightly shook his arm, pushing him to give her his full attention. Thankfully, he did.

“Okay, pretty boy. This is where I stop asking and you start talking. Because I’m slowly losing my mind here.”

“Boredom or worry?”

“Half half.” A deep sigh and he looked around for nothing in particular.

“Me saying something like ‘shitty date, is all’ is probably not going to cut it, is it?”

“Yeah, no. Try again.”

“…Shitty date is probably still true.”

“Okay? Why was the date shitty, then?” Steve scoffed.

“Probably because I have shitty taste in girls. Women.” Immediately, she felt herself bristle.

“What did that bitch do?” He rolled his eyes.

“Don’t call her that.”

“What did she do, Steven?” He sighed, using his free hand to ruffle his hair.

“Okay, so… When she asked me out, she was weirdly specific, right?” She nodded, not caring too much about the long story. But if that’s how he wanted to tell it - fine. “She was all like ‘Do you want to go to the cinema with me on Tuesday at seven fourty five?’ and I thought it was kinda weird to ask like that, but hey maybe she’s just one of those…those OCD-types, right? What do I know? Maybe she just feels the need to specify everything or her dad was a vet or whatever. Don’t know, don’t care.” She didn’t point out that seven fourty five wasn’t military time. “So, I agree, knowing I’d likely have to pester Robin into switching with me, which wasn’t easy because it was a Keith shift and who wants to do those? But who cares, it was flower shop girl, right?”

“Right.”

“Yeah. So today, after I left, I got home, got ready and picked her up exactly on time. When she got in I noticed that she was, like, really nervous for some reason.”

“What, because of you?”

“That’s what I wondered. I mean, I bought a gazillion flowers from her and she rents videos regularly, so it’s not like we’re total strangers. And I’m not weird, right? Like, creepy weird. Rapey weird.” She nodded as he threw her a glance and he carried on. “Right, otherwise she probably wouldn’t have asked me. So, I’m, like, extremely confused as to why she’s so skittish.”

“How skittish are we talking?”

“Her voice was an octave or so higher the whole time.”

“Jesus.”

“Exactly.” Steve shook his head. “Anyway, I drive up to the theatre and try to get a conversation going, you know? Drop some funny lines, talk about work, anything. But she barely answers and is all evasive and weird and I’m already like ‘Oh great, this date is going to be fun.’.” Angrily, he kicked something out of the way. A pebble? “But that isn’t even the worst thing. I mean, sure, I really…I was really amped for that date. But bad dates happen, you know? You get annoyed and then you move on or something. I don’t know.”

“I know what you mean, Steve. Carry on.”

“Dude, I’m on it.” He sighed shaking his head. “Anyway. Theatre. We get out of the car and I go to buy the tickets-“

“Why the fuck did you-“

“I don’t know, I just did.”

“She asked you out, Steve! She can pay!”

“But she didn’t okay? Let me finish talking.” She grumbled something under her breath, but let him go on. “So, I go to buy the tickets, she’s waiting by the door. And then we go in and whoosh.” He mimed an explosion with his hands. “She sticks to me like glue. It’s like someone flipped a switch and she went from ‘why am I here?’ to full on date mode. And she’s, like, pulling all the stops. She’s flirting like a mad woman, batting her eyelids super often and talking about how nice I look and how nice it was that I agreed to this date and stuff. And she’s super loud too, right?” Slowly, something dawned in her mind and she didn’t like it one bit. “So, I am like ‘Uhm…what exactly is going on here?’ but she just keeps talking. And then we get to the front of the popcorn line and some dude greets us and he keeps staring at her all wistfully and shit while she finds 87 ways to say the word ‘date’ in a non-committal context.” He stopped, kicking at nothing at she watched him with furrowed brows.

“She wanted to make that guy jealous. And she used you to do it.” He scoffed, his eyes focusing on nothing in particular.

“Yeah. And I was stupid enough to say yes.”

“Steve.”

“She probably noticed that I was literally buying her out of flowers and came to the conclusion that sure, Harrington is hare brained and will never realise what is going on. Why not use him like some sort of accessory, it’s not like he’s got much more going on!”

“Steve, stop that.” She pulled him to a stop, turning him towards her in the process. Steve’s brows were deeply furrowed, nearly touching in the middle, and there was a definite pout to his lips. “Stop trash talking yourself. None of this is because of you.” He tsked.

“Right. Sure, who if not me, then?” She stared at him, incredulously.

“Her. It is because of her, Steve. She asked you out to make another guy jealous because she noticed that you liked her. She used your feelings against you, not the other way around.”

“And why did I have feelings? That her fault too or what?”

“What are you even talking about, Steve?”

“I mean, how often have I actually talked to her? I barely knew her, right? We’re loose acquaintances at best. So why? Why like her so much that I buy a bunch of ugly fucking bouquets every other day? Those fucking things looked like shit because she’s horrible at making them, but I still spend a fortune on them simply so I could watch her talk about flowers for ten minutes. Shit, I’m not even a flower guy to begin with! Do I look like someone who cares that gardenias are considered deer resistant shrubs?” He really seemed to believe that he had any choice in the matter, which had her brows dip further.

“Steve, you can’t actually believe the bullshit you’re spewing right now.” He shrugged, pushing the moist hair from his face.

“Well, I don’t know anymore. I must be doing’ something wrong, seeing as every god damn girl I come close to liking just ends up treating me like shit.” Pinching his nose, he took a step back. “I mean, I’m not exactly a catch. Right. I know that.” He gestured around, more angry than necessary. “I know what they see, okay? Har har Harrington, high school hasbeen that couldn’t get into college and is still working a shitty job at fucking family video. Right, sure, I get it. Oh yeah, add the ugly ass scars I can’t explain – not that anyone even gets close to seeing them lately. But why can’t they just tell me? I mean, they could just tell me to fuck off and I’d be gone.” Swallowing heavily, he quieted for a moment. “I’m so…I’m so sick of growing to like people who don’t like me back. Who don’t even want to get to know me, like actually me. Not ‘Steve Harrington, the family video looser’, but me.”

Her throat felt tight as she watched him rant, rain slipping down his hair and face. Hearing what he thought about himself was always difficult, because, for some reason, Steve literally thought he was the worst person alive. No matter what she said, no matter what she did, his opinion never seemed to change.

Steve Harrington viewed himself as little more than trash.

“How is that your fault, Steve? Any of that?” Hot anger rose in her chest, not at him but for him. “You couldn’t get into college – so what! Who gives a shit? And sure, you work at family video. But at least you work!” She shrugged. “That’s miles better than anything any of them likely ever did. And liking someone is…We can’t choose who we like. You just…you just like who you like.”

“That’s a bullshit answer and you know it.”

“Yeah? Well. It’s yours.”

“What?”

“It’s what you told me. While I was crying over Ian and cursing myself over ever falling for him you said exactly that.” He scoffed, his head falling back.

“I give shit advise.”

“Yeah, but you mean well.” Sighing, she grabbed his hand. “Steve, listen to me. Properly, okay?”

“Fine.”

“That stupid cunt used you. And that is not your fault.”

“But-”

“No, it’s not. You didn’t do anything, Steve! I mean, what would you tell me? If the situation was reversed? Let’s say I…I don’t know, let’s say I’m on a date with, uh, with…Jonathan.”

“Byers?”

“Yeah.”

“Yikes.”

“Stay focused.” She rolled her eyes. “So, I’m on a date with Byers and turns out he just wanted Nancy to get angry or jealous or whatever. And obviously I’m heartbroken because wow, I’m so in love with Byers-“ Steve winced.

“I’m not in love.”

“- that I can barely contain myself. What would you tell me?” Steve looked down at her, his dark eyes raking her face as he thought.

“…Probably the same thing.”

“Which is what?”

“…It’s not your fault. He used you, not the other way around.”

“Right. And?”

“I’d probably try to hit him with my car. That’s long overdue anyway.”

“Yeah, I get it. Flower shop girl just got first place on my shit list. But that’s not what I mean.”

“Then what?”

“Is it my fault that I fell in love with Jonathan Byers?” Steve turned his face towards her, looking just as wet and sorry as he did, and sighed.

“…No.”

“But I could have known better. He’s obsessed with Nancy, so this was totally unavoidable, wasn’t it?” Steve’s brows dipped.

“Yeah, so? It’s not like you wanted to fall in love with Byers, you just did. Maybe that’s dumb, but you can’t choose who-“ he stopped short.

“Yeah?”

“…You can’t choose who you like.”

“Right. You can’t.” She sighed. “You don’t always need to hold yourself up to higher standards than everyone else, you know? You’re…you’re just human, like the rest of us.”

“I know.”

“Do you now? Because sometimes I’m not so sure you do, Steve.” She vividly remembered many times where his perfectionism hat nearly driven him insane. “You always blame yourself for things that aren’t you fault. Always did, ever since we were kids.” It wasn’t hard to guess where he’d got it from. His parents weren’t ever shy about blaming their child for everything wrong with their life. His mum did it passively, with neglect and pejorative remarks while his dad just straight up told him why he was the shittest thing in their collective lives. Steve, apparently, had internalised that knowledge far too deep.  And now it always came back to haunt him.

Like that one time.

It was a day she barely remembered. The memory was fuzzy, either with age or because her mind simply didn’t want her to remember. What was it, a day after Starcourt? Two days? She didn’t even really know. It could have been years or minutes; everything felt the same.

Hopeless.

Hopelessness was winding around her like thin wires, squeezing and pulling at the same time. Wherever the wires touched her, they would dig into her skin, painfully tearing the tender flesh of her body apart. Maybe she should just have done it, set her jaw and bear with it, just like she’d been doing every time she’d gotten hurt that day. Pain was nothing new to her, in the past three years she’d learned how to deal with it but, for some reason she just…she just couldn’t.

When she looked down at her arms, she expected to see blood. And sure, there was blood. But that was old, already drying. She didn’t see any new blood. Nothing was actually ripping her skin apart, and yet she could feel it. She could feel the lines on her skin, the places she was barely keeping together.

Every movement, every breath was painful. So, so painful that she wanted to scream. To her, moving meant pain. And a lot of pain meant that she was dying.

So, she just didn’t move.

She sat there, on the floor in Steve’s bedroom, unmoving, with her legs pulled against her chest. Why Steve’s room or how she’d even gotten there in the first place was something she couldn’t answer. She just knew that she couldn’t move away from that spot, not without falling apart completely. And in that moment, there was no one who could’ve stacked her back together again.

It was uncomfortable.

Her limbs were falling asleep in random moments and the heeled boots she’d been wearing were likely ruining her feet for good. She herself was still bloody, sweaty and disgusting and she could feel the layers of grime on her skin. But she didn’t…couldn’t care.

It was uncomfortable, but it was safe.

As long as she didn’t move, she could pretend it wasn’t real. She could pretend that her dad and brother were at the shop, like always, bickering over the right way to tune up the Hillson’s sedan. She could pretend that she hadn’t seen the giant monster that her family had somehow become part of. Because every time she thought of it, she remembered what Nancy told them. She could hear Steve saying: “But instead of, like, screws and metal, the Mind Flayer made its weapon with melted people…?”

Melted people.

Her father, the kindest man she’d ever known. The man who’d tried his hardest to raise her, to give her anything a daughter could need. The man who’d taught her how to ride a bike and how to replace a rotary arm. The man who’d cooked her favourite food whenever she felt down.

And her brother.

The big brother, who’d gone and beaten-up Tommy Hagan after he cheated on her. The brother who’d read her stories as a kid, who’d carry her around whenever she was too lazy to walk. The very brother who’d told her, just the night before, that all he wanted was for her to be happy. Wherever that might be.

Those two were part of the people Steve and Nancy were talking about. And she’d known, she’d known something was weird with her dad ever since he’d been so moody and snappy. He was never like that, never that aggressive, and both her and her brother had been extremely confused and worried. And yet, with little to no argument, she’d just packed her bag and left the minute her brother told her to.

She’d gone to stay with Steve, lounging around at Scoops Ahoy all day instead of just…just going home. Home, where she actually could’ve done something. Where she could’ve helped them.

But she didn’t. And now they were dead.

Those were the thoughts going through her mind on a loop. Every time she arrived at the conclusion it would go back to the start, like a record that spun endlessly. Nothing seemed to be able to turn it off. It just spun and spun and spun. Not even the blood that covered her shirt and skirt turning sticky and disgusting could change that. Nor could the knowledge that at least half the blood was not hers but Steve’s.

Steve…

Steve, who’d spent the past hours talking to her with endless patience. He’d tried to get her to eat, to move. To just do…something. Anything. He never pushed her too hard, but he didn’t ease up. He sat beside her, talked about anything. He turned on music whenever his voice turned weak and the silence became heavy.

He was always there, like a shadow glued to her side. Drifting along the lines of her periphery in hopes to get a rise out of her.

Looking back, she was surprised he’d kept it together that well. She didn’t know if she could’ve done it. If she could’ve acted like she was okay for his sake.

Because Steve wasn’t okay. Of course, he wasn’t. And one day, she finally noticed it.

As always, he’d left his room. Claiming to go and order some dinner. He left, went downstairs and was gone for a good long while. Too long for a phone call. Maybe she was on her way out of her trance, maybe she was already on the threshold to being fully conscious. Or maybe it was the fact that Steve had forgotten to turn on the music. She didn’t know.

But as she sat, still huddled against the dresser in Steve’s room, she heard something…weird. An odd noise she couldn’t quite place. Like…like a sob. Or something. The Harringtons weren’t home, of course, so it couldn’t have been them. But that only left Steve. Steve who was gleefully making conversation up until a moment ago, seemingly completely unaware of how one sided it actually was.

That uncertainty was what finally caused her to get up and move.

Stiff as a board and with great difficulty she peeled herself off the floor, using the wall to prop herself up. Every step she took hurt like hell, her poor, battered feet burning like embers. But she hobbled on, slow but determined. Thank god everything was carpeted, because otherwise Steve might have heard her come down the steps. And knowing him, he would’ve gone right back to acting.

But he didn’t.

And as she entered the Harringtons kitchen, she didn’t find the Steve she’d seen upstairs. Instead, she found a barely eighteen-year-old boy, who’d been tortured and drugged. A boy, who’d spent too long high on adrenaline and was now watching his best friend wither away right there, in his room. A boy who didn’t know what to do, how to help.

He was sitting below the phone, the receiver dangling carelessly somewhere next to him, and he was sobbing. Desperate, scared little noises that had her stop for a moment.

“Steve?” She’d said, her voice raw and broken by prolonged disuse. But the boy had heard her, flinching as his head snapped towards her. The moment his dark eyes landed on her, standing in the door way, he’d started to cry even harder. Violent sobs started to shake him, a sight that had her feel dizzy.

“It’s you.” Was all he managed to say between all the sobbing, his face buried in his hands. The sobs got louder too, his relieve mixing into the whole mess of emotions he was already facing. Watching that, watching as he broke down with fear, pain and relieve spurred something in her. With just two little steps she made it to his side, where she sank down to her knees. She didn’t know what to do. This Steve was not one she knew, and right then she barely knew herself. Her hands fluttered about unsurely, touching his hair and his shoulders, trying to find a place to start.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He’d muttered, repeating nothing but that again and again while sobs rattled through his body.

“Sorry…?” She didn’t understand. Sorry for what? What had he done that he needed to be sorry for? Nothing came to mind.

“I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault.” Her eyes were shaking as she watched the boy sob on. Her brain was so incredibly slow already, exhausted from little sleep and heightened adrenaline, so she still didn’t understand. She didn’t understand. “Everything is always my fault.”

Everything.

She felt her eyes tear up, sobs clawing their way up her throat as she realised what he was on about.

Steve was blaming himself for this. He was blaming himself for what had happened down in the Russian base as well as what had happened up in the mall. He was blaming himself for her pain as well as his own. The way she knew him, he’d probably been blaming himself for ever becoming her friend, for ever being born.

Because that was Steve Harrington.

Everything was always his fault, even when it wasn’t. He automatically deemed it so and no one, not a single person, ever thought to tell him he was wrong. They all called him ‘ass’ and ‘moron’, called him out for his time as stupid ‘King Steve’, but no one ever took the time to remind him how great he really was.

If her heart hadn’t already been broken, it would have been the moment she truly realised how lonely that boy was. And how scared he must’ve been of losing her, the last person to always be on his side.

“Steve…” She’d sobbed, winding her arms around him to cry into his hair while she held him. She’d just been holding onto him until both their tears ran dry for the time being.

And she did the same thing now.

With one simple movement, she’d wrapped her arms around his midriff and pressed her face into his shoulder. Steve didn’t hesitate to hug her back. He never did. His arms wound around her waist, holding her close. Somewhere above her ear, she could feel his breath fan against her skin.

“You need to stop blaming yourself so much, Steve.” Her voice was muffled by the fabric of his jacket, but she was sure he understood. She knew by the way his breath hitched, by the way is body started to shake. “It isn’t your fault, none of this.” She patted the back of his head comfortingly, carefully. “And I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for? You didn’t do anything.” His voice was weak and croaky, poorly repressed feelings seeping out of it with every word.

“No, I didn’t. But I’m still sorry.” She sighed, patting on. “I’m sorry because she isn’t. And I’m sorry because she couldn’t see you the way you did her. I’m sorry that everyone always blames you, even you yourself…” His arms tightened around her waist and she heard him exhale a shaky breath. “I’m sorry for all of that, Steve.”

And just like that night four years ago, she’d held the boy while he shed tears no one else knew about.

Because that was who Steve Harrington actually was.

***

“There! There, do you see that?” Robin hissed, pressed close to her side. “Now that isn’t normal. And at first I was all like ‘oh maybe he’s just confused’ but it’s been week and he’s just been doing that all the time. That’s weird, right? Agh, of course it’s weird!” She blinked, ignoring Robin’s rambling as she watched Steve ring up a customer upfront. The rest of the store lay deserted, the day still too early for most people to think about renting anything.

It was Sunday, a couple of long, exhausting days after Steve’s date with the horticulture-cunt.

The week had been quite the mess so far, so she was thanking every available god that it was finally Sunday and she had the day off. And sure, lounging about Family Video with Steve and Robin was an excellent pastime. ‘Spying’ on Steve from behind a shelf, though? Ugh.

“Look, he’s not flirting, nothing! He’s just-just look!” The girl hissed, her hands clasping her shoulders. She could feel Robins nails scratch her skin, causing her to shiver slightly.

Robin had been calling the repair shop nearly every day, more than once, ranting about how Steve was behaving ‘weirdly’ and how this couldn’t be ‘normal’ and ‘please please come over, okay? I’m losing my mind here!’, so here she was. Badly hidden behind the self-proclaimed chick flick shelf – ooh, was that ‘Beaches’? – staring through a small window Robin had created by removing a couple of tapes.

It was not all too interesting.

Steve just did his job like anyone else would. The whole spiel - ‘Hi there’ ‘beep beep’ ‘your total is…’. That was how this worked, right? Because, sure, she’d never worked anywhere other than the shop, but this looked pretty standard to her. Next to her, Robin was still rambling – something about possession and brainwashing – and Steve was bagging up the tapes. The girl he’d just rung up thanked him overly sweetly – gag – and turned to leave the store. The wind chime above the door announced her exit.

Steve stayed where he was, leaning forward onto the counter, before looking in their direction.

“You idiots do know that I can see you, right? You’re not, like, invisible.” Robin stiffened and cursed under her breath and she patted her back comfortingly.

“You tried, Robs.” Was all she said as she grabbed ‘Beaches’ from the shelf. Why not use this oh-so-golden opportunity to organise some Sunday night entertainment? And she’d been waiting to see this one for forever. She even told Steve, the traitor, to let her know as soon as it was available. Of course, he ‘forgot’ to do that again.

“Yeah, maybe leave some tapes next time so it’s less obvious.” Steve nodded towards the shelf and sure enough. Tapes were missing on both sides, making it pretty obvious that someone wanted to spy on him through the three- or four-inch gap the shelf offered.

“You leave me no choice! And you!” Robin pointed at her, her black-nailed finger wafting accusingly in front of her face. “I called you so you’d side with me!” She chuckled, strolling over to where Steve was still lounging about. Steve’s eyes were on her as she hopped onto the counter next to him, offering up the tape, which he took in turn for a clean picked bag of gummy bears.

“Oh, come on, ‘Beaches’? Really? Ugh.” He shook his head as he started to check it out – under his name, obviously.

“It’s Bette Midler, Steve.” The boy just winced and she started to chow down on the gummy bears. Robin was still rambling.

“Hello?! Are you listening to me!?”

“No.” The two of them said and the girl grumbled, yet still accepting the peace offering of gummy bears. The younger girl glanced at her hand, spotting the exclusively white, orange and yellow variants of the sugary sweets.

“Why do I never get any red or green ones? Those are the best.” Steve nodded while she just winced at the other girl’s statement.

“Steve is in charge of the red and green ones, so pester him about that.”

“Wait, what? ‘In charge’?”

“Yeah. Haven’t you noticed?” She cocked her head, shaking the bag. “He eats all the red and green ones. I get the yellow, orange and white ones.”

“Why would you do that?”

“She doesn’t like red and green. I don’t like white.” Steve handed her the cassette in a small bag before turning and leaning his back against the counter. “So, we eat the ones we like and then trade.”

“But there’s always more red and green, so you’re basically being ripped off!” Robin leaned against the counter next to her as she spoke, holding her hand out for more. She got them, of course.

“Hey, she gets three colours and I only get two!” She could feel Steve’s fingers at the hem of her shirt as he spoke, the boy using the proximity to cover up a sliver of skin that had been exposed since earlier. Paying him no mind, she let him pull down her shirt properly and continued to stuff her face with gummy candy. Robin, however, was watching their interaction with raised eyebrows.

“Your relationship is disgusting, has anyone ever told you that?” Both she and Steve rolled their eyes at that. Because they had, in fact, heard that before. That and anything else people would offer about their relationship. For some reason, people just loved to make unsolicited comments about other people’s business. She couldn’t even count the times, that people had asked her if she and Steve had ever had a ‘thing’ for or done ‘stuff’ with each other – big yikes.

Then there was the usual ‘oh your guys are disgusting’, ‘get a room!’ or ‘you’re like an old married couple’. When they were younger, they used to argue back every time because it wasn’t like that and they were just friends. At some point, though, both of them had gotten tired of the same reaction – eye rolls, amused chuckling and a meaningful ‘For now!’ – so they just rolled their eyes and ignored all the comments to the best of their abilities.

Well, except the ‘stuff’ one because that was a disgusting and invasive thing to ask. Steve took that one just as wordlessly, but she couldn’t. The last guy who’d dared to offer that question had earned himself a broken nose and she would happily pummel anyone who wished to follow in his footsteps.

“Only every person in this goddamn town, Robin.”

“I think I heard a Demodog say it at one point.” Steve said, closing his eyes.

“Yeah? Seems like them. They were a rather chatty bunch, weren’t they?”

“Totally. Especially- uh…wait, what was his name?” His brows furrowed in thought. “Henderson named him after that chocolate bar.”

“Ah, you mean Dart?”

“Dart! Yes, right. Especially Dart.” The two of them grinned at that. It should be all unfortunate and uncomfortable, but honestly? One can only shed so many tears about something. At some point, joking will become easier than sobbing.

“Do I even want to know what you’re talking about?” Robin asked, snagging more gummy bears.

“Just the Demodog Dart and his little herd of friends that nearly mauled us to death.”

“Come on, Dart didn’t. He let us pass, remember?”

“Not really. I was losing a ton of blood, Steve. I don’t even really remember how we got out.”

“Oh, right. You got blood all over my jacket. ”

“Sorry not sorry.” They had bled onto each other often enough, even before the whole upside down bullshit. Although there’s a significant difference between ‘shit, I cut my finger while chopping onions’ and ‘oh my god, that Demodog just rammed it’s claws into my torso’. The scars were really different, too.

“You could’ve just said no, you know?” The girl flicked her forehead before going to do…something. Work. Slack off somewhere else. That left her and Steve behind at the counter. For a moment, they did nothing else. She was fiddling around with the bag in her hands and Steve was slowly flicking through a pamphlet or something. Leaning over, she noticed that it was a pamphlet about…

“Wait, is that for college?” Steve nodded, flicking to the next page. “I thought you gave up on college?” She grabbed the pamphlet from him, ignoring his protests as she read through as quickly as she could. That was made a lot harder by Steve trying to get the thing back. Her eyes were better than his though, so she held it barely out of his reach and read on “No way, nursing? You want to become a nurse?” He scoffed and ripped the thing from her hands.

“Jesus, ever heard of privacy? You’re so nosy, do you know that?” He snapped, stuffing the pamphlet somewhere beneath the counter, effectively out of reach. Not that she cared, she knew all she needed to.

“We don’t do privacy, Steven.” Drawing her leg onto the counter, she turned towards him properly, grinning brightly. “Nurse Steve?” The boy groaned, his shoulders slumping forwards.

“I don’t know, okay? It’s just, like, an idea. Nothing more. I just thought, you know…I’m quite good with blood and all that and I’ve seen worse things than whatever the human body can produce. So why not try to make use of that?” He shrugged. “I researched a bit and heard about this nursing program and I’m…I probably won’t get in anyway, so it’s really not that big a deal, right? It’s just- it’s…Robin will eventually get her degree and then she’ll leave and teach little shit’s their ABC’s or whatever the fuck she does and I can’t…It’s…Anything is better than being stuck here for the rest of my life, rewinding sticky copies of ‘Kinky Business’ and ‘Too good to be true’ while Keith is breathing down my neck.” He finished, his formerly gesticulating arms falling down to his sides as he breathed heavily. She allowed a moment of silence to pass, giving him a second to catch his breath as she just stared at him. But eventually, she felt the corners of her mouth curl upwards.

“You know, you’re saying all that but for some reason I just hear-“ Steve raised his finger threateningly.

“I swear to god, your ass is grass if you say…”

“-Nurse Steve!” The boy groaned and let his head fall against her shoulder as she giggled and patted the back of his head.

“I hate you; you know that?”

“Sure, I do. I love you too, Harrington.” She wiggled her shoulder to get him off. When she did, she leaned forwards to stare into his face. “Nurse Steve, man. Honestly, I see it. You’ve got a nurse face.”

“What, in that hot nurse kinda way?”

“Yikes. No.” She pretend-shivered. “But you look kind and caring.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“As I said: It’s just an idea and I likely won’t get in anyway, so…”

“No, no you will.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do, Steven! I can feel it in my bones. So let me predict your future now, young padawan.” With her thumb and index she squeezed his cheeks, effectively holding him in place – and making him look like stuff-cheeked hamster. “You will apply for this course and you will get in. And within the next couple years, you’re out of this shit hole and can spend your days saving lives as ‘Nurse Steve – Hero in scrubs’.” He opened his mouth to stop her, but she talked onwards. “And who knows? Maybe you’ll meet a pretty patient and you’ll wrap her around those pretty fingers of yours in a heartbeat while helping her stay calm during a shot or whatever.” Steve’s brows drew together, enough to nearly touch in the middle.

“Did you just write fanfiction about me?” Thanks to her still squeezing his face, the words came out all squishy and muddled. He seemed to notice that too, pulling himself from her grasp to rub his cheeks. “Dude, were you trying to bruise my cheek? Jeez, your grip is like iron.”

“Those are a handyman’s fingers, Steven.” Sad but true. She always wanted to have pretty, dainty hands like Nancy or Robin or Max. Colourful long-ish nails, pretty nailbeds, soft pink skin…but that was not something she’d ever have. Thanks to her line of work, her hands and fingers were often dry and rough, even stained by oil and grease. Her nails had to be short, otherwise they’d break – they tended to do that anyway – and although she tried nail polish sometimes, it never lasted long enough to actually bother.

And sure, she took care of them. She used hand cream like a mad woman, lathering up every chance she got, and she tried to do hand masks regularly. In the end, however, her hands were a mirror of her craft. They were formed by work. And while they could get a car up and running, change a leaking pipe and a handful of other things, they would never look pretty.

It shouldn’t bother her much, but it did, sadly. Generally, she liked how she looked. She was satisfied with what the mirror showed her and she knew she looked good. Great even! But every time she saw how pretty other girls’ hands looked, she felt like a…like a grizzly. Like a giant, weathered witch in front of dainty, little fairy princesses – however untrue that comparison may be.

Everyone had their little insecurities.

Suddenly, Steve grabbed her hands, pulling her fingers away from a patch of dry skin and her out of her own thoughts.

“Stop picking your skin, idiot. You always say it hurts after you do that.” Shifting his hold a bit, both hands now clasped in one of his, he started to root around behind the counter, producing a small tube of hand cream. Without hesitation, he squeezed a good dollop of cream onto her hands and used his thumbs to spread it around. It was almost like a massage and she felt herself relax more and more with each stroke.

In lieu of anything else to do, she looked at him while he worked away all tension she’d build over the last week.

Mouth slightly pursed and brows furrowed, he looked extremely focused right then. If she hadn’t quite literally felt his hands on hers, she would’ve wondered what he was thinking about. His hair did its usual thing, flopping into his face that was, and it gave him some sort of…roguish allure.

Here’s to hoping that he’d never find out that she thought something like that. Yikes.

But it was true nonetheless. She cocked her head as she watched him, raking her eyes over the lines of his face. They all looked the same as always, absolutely not different to the Steve she’d seen yesterday and the day before that. And yet…

Steve was handsome.

Sure, right, objectively she’d known that. She’d seen the boy as a tween and damn, that couldn’t be compared, like, at all. But she’d never really thought about it much. Steve was always about as interesting as her right arm. There and definitely appreciated – in fact, she wouldn’t want to live without it – but not something one thought about much. But right then, brows furrowed in concentration as he rubbed her hands, she really noticed how good looking he actually was.

“You’re really pretty, did you know that?” Steve raised his brows and looked up at her, clearly surprised by her statement. But he caught himself rather quickly, the typical Steve reaction already kicking in.

“Twenty-two years and you only notice that now? Damn.” She rolled her eyes, pulling her hands from his grasp.

“You must’ve been ugly for twenty-one of them, then.”

“That’s still a year, which is a lot coming from you.”

“Right, whatever gets you through the night, pretty boy.” He grinned at that.

“You know what? You can just tell me that my awesome hand rub won you over, sweetheart. There’s no shame in that.”

“Oh, riiiight.” She nodded, a smile curling her lips as she leaned back onto the counter. “Totally. You just stole my heart, Harrington.”

“Don’t I know it.” He leaned against the counter next to her. She hummed under her breath, using two fingers to gently guide his hair out of his face. His eyes fluttered shut at her touch, a habit Steve had always had. In one feather light touch, she let her knuckles ghost over the lines of his cheek, causing his honeyed eyes to open up once more.

“I bet you do that to all the girls, don’t you?” He tipped his head back, eyes focused on her face, and hummed softly.

“Hmmh. Works every time.”

“Am I…interrupting something?” A voice intervened, causing both her and Steve to turn. Robin was standing next to the shelf she and the other girl had just been hiding behind. “Because I can, like, totally take my break right now. You know, if you guys want to finish whatever that was.” She popped a cheese puff into her mouth, the bag in her hands crinkling uncomfortably loud.

“Robin…” Steve sounded all annoyed, clearly ready to ‘bicker with Buckley’, so she intervened.

“Not necessary. Join us, Steve was just telling me all about how he uses roofied hand cream to drug poor, unsuspecting girls into liking him.”

“Aaah. That must be why you were gazing up at him like he was made of light, hm? Because of the hand cream. Totally, I believe you.” Robin shrugged as she hopped closer and she felt her brows dip.

“What am I, a moth?”

“I don’t know, you tell me?” She hopped behind Steve, using her hands to turn his face towards her, to which he protested loudly.

“Come on, your fingers are all cheesy!”

“Take it like a man, dingus.” Robin just said, holding on and nodding at her. “And? Do you think sparkly boy is the hottest thing in town?” She rolled her eyes and Steve ducked out of Robins hold.

“Man, you got cheese dust all over me. Disgusting, go clean your hands.” He shoved her off towards the break room while rubbing his cheeks against his uniform. “And the question is rigged, because I totally am the hottest thing in town and we all know it.”

“Right, Dingus, whatever you want to believe. You know, that scene felt oddly familiar. Did I see it in a movie before? God, what was it called again? Maybe-“

“Buckley! Sink! Now!” At his famed babysitter tone, Robin instinctively hopped on off without another word. The two who stayed behind, sighed in unison. “I hate her sometimes.”

“No, you don’t.”

“No, I don’t.”

Another shared sigh and Steve was back to fiddling with the tube of hand cream and she watched him for a minute, before choosing to plunge forwards with their conversation. A normal one, duh, not the one Robin had interrupted.

“Wanna watch ‘Beaches’ with me?”

“No.” He said, tossing the hand cream aside and leaning against the counter, further away from her this time. “I’ll come ‘round after work. Chinese or Pizza?” She smiled.

“Pizza for sure.”

***

Early evening had befallen Hawkins by the time Steve made it to her house. The sky outside was quickly darkening, regretfully announcing the end of her day off. She wished she had something to turn back time. Not even a lot, just a day or so. Tiny day. Go plink plink on that little, uh, time turner, and have another Sunday right after her first one. And that one she would spend right here, on the couch, in a pad so huge it could count as diapers and simply not move. Didn’t that sound glorious? Damn. Next time, Buckley could beg all she wanted. She would spend her Sunday hermited and wrapped up like a burrito.

When his knock finally came, she was already lounging on her sofa, braless and clad in only her finest pair of sweats and a giant t-shirt that came from god knows where. The void, probably. Maybe even the upside down. Didn’t know, didn’t care.

It was comfy anyway.

 “Come it, the door is open!” She called, too lazy to move to open the door for him. Honestly, she didn’t really need to and he didn’t need to knock, he had a key anyway. The door opened and she raised her head, just enough to make sure it was actually Steve that entered and not a crazy serial killer. Well, those probably wouldn’t knock but it didn’t hurt to make sure, right?

But nope, it was Steve in all his hang-night glory.

Her head plopped back down after she analysed his choice of clothes – very similar to hers, in fact – and he tsked at the sight.

“I told you not to leave your door unlocked, idiot.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“Not whatever. Dude, you already live in a paper fucking house. At least try to make it hard for someone to murder you, okay?” Not that again. She rolled her eyes at his usual nagging as he kicked off his shoes and hug up his jacket.

“Steve, it’s not that bad, you know? I mean, it’s a house and it’s actually quite spacious since it’s just Tut and me.” Tut was her, very bad tempered, sphinx cat. Well, bad tempered was a stretch. He wasn’t that bad. Tut, actually named Tutanchmeow, just didn’t like strangers all too much. He liked her, he tolerated Steve and that was far more than enough. Right now, for example, he was hogging her one arm chair, snoring loudly and cutely.

“Spacious. Sure. I’m kinda scared I’ll bonk my head if I flinch too hard, but you’re absolutely right.” As if to demonstrate, he stretched out his arms, not leaving too much space on either side. “It’s extremely spacious in this thing.” Steve sighed, dropping a pizza carton on the couch table. “I got us the usual stuff.”

“Perfect.” She sighed, drawing her legs up slowly and carefully. “What do you want to drink?”

“Stay, I’ll get it.” Steve sauntered over into the kitchen and she heard him open up the fridge. He came back with two beers which was fine by her. He’d already opened them and just dropped them onto the table right next to the Pizza before plunking down onto the sofa into the place she’d previously freed for him. Her legs fell right back into place on his lap, which Steve accepted wordlessly. Sighing, she covered her stomach with both hands and looked at him.

“How was the rest of your shift?” Steve just grumbled. “That bad, huh.”

“Yeah.”

“Robin?”

“Obviously.”

“Do I wanna know?”

“Definitely not.” She hummed slightly, taking her time to properly look at him. He looked tired, his eyes drooping already despite him barely sitting down. She poked his side with her foot and he grumbled again.

“People are tiring.” She sighed.

“Damn straight.” He shot back. “And you know I love Robin, I really do. But god, sometimes I wish she would just…stop talking. Just for a minute. I swear, you left the store and her mouth started flapping. I think she was still talking when I went home and it’s just…does she even breathe?” Steve deflated with a sigh, his head falling back to rest against the wall. “I’m a dick for saying, I know, but I wish Robin came with an off-button.”

“You’re not a dick for saying that.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Then I am too. Because every day I wish that my boys would just keep their damn traps shut. And I love the lot of them, but god, they’re dicks sometimes.” She shrugged. “That doesn’t make me a dick, though. That makes me…Normal. I’m just a normal person who gets annoyed by other people.” Steve just sighed, saying nothing for a moment.

“Speaking of.” He said instead, obviously trying to change the subject. “How’s Eddie first week been going?” She groaned and closed her eyes.

“God, don’t make me think about that.” It had been a whole mess. A complete and utter mess, and terrifyingly large scale. “How can one guy be so clumsy? I mean, at this point I’m surprised he can walk in a straight line without falling over. Please, remind me to never ever get in his car, no matter what. I’m telling you. On Thursday, he literally tripped over his own feet, tumbled through half the shop, bonked against one of the tire stacks and unleashed this, like, chain reaction that nearly send Riley flying into the popped hood of Hagans car. In under a minute, the whole shop was a mess and he just stood there, clenching his hands like a first grader that did something stupid and knows he’ll get in trouble. And you know my boys are really good natured – well, except Billy – but even they had really reached the end of their tether by Saturday. Riley even started to dub him Eddie ‘Stumblebum’ Munson.” She was wringing her hands, trying to calm herself down. “I hired him to replace Marvin, but at this point I’ll have to hire someone else to replace Marvin and someone tokeep Eddie in check. I feel instead of lessen he just tripled my workload, because not only do I have to do my job, no I’m doing his as well as clean up after him.” Steve sighed and patted her leg comfortingly.

And then the two of them sat up properly, she started the movie and he propped open the pizza carton. It was a thing the two of them always did. Steve couldn’t really eat when he was annoyed or upset, while she tended to overeat when she was. So, every time they got together to eat, they vented first and dined right after.

Well, unless someone asked for a delay just like Steve had done after his ‘date’. Then they just went about the meal as proficiently as they could.

“Like, what is that movie even about?” Steve asked, chowing down on the pizza and she snorted.

“Obviously you would try to keep this movie from me without even knowing what it was about. That’s just so you, Steven.”

“What the fuck is up with all that ‘Steven’ lately?” The words came out all wonky, pushed past a giant bite of pizza. “You sound like my mum, jeez.”

“Well, duh. I am your mum.” Straightening up in her seat, she did a mock-hair flip, and eyed Steve. “Oh Stevie, how wonderful to have you back home tonight, baby. But then again, you’re always here, aren’t you? Hohohoho.” She didn’t even have to concentrate to copy his mum, her strangely sing-songy intonation branded into her brain after too many sleepovers at the Harrington House. “I see you came from-“ here she scrunched her nose in distaste “-work. Or, whatever it is you call…that. Oh, Steven isn’t that your friend Raven?” Steve was even mouthing that part with her, his mum seemingly not able to remember that Robin was, in fact, called Robin. But hey, they were both birds at least. “My my, it’s a pleasure to have you back. I hope you’re staying for dinner, darling, because we just love helping the less fortunate members of our quaint town, don’t we? Richard, darling! I’m getting a headache, let’s go to the Maldives!” Steve flicked her forehead the moment she finished, shaking his head.

“I hated that. And it was scarily accurate, so don’t do that again.”

“I’m your mum, I told you.” He rolled his eyes once more, getting started on his third slice of pizza while she was only just done with her first. That, ladies and gentlemen, was how Steve usually ate - for all those that have been wondering. He was a total boy when it came to food, finishing copious amounts of it in little to no time. “Oh, and the movie is about these two friends. I’m not sure either, because - thanks to someone - I haven’t seen it yet but apparently it’s like an overview over their lives and their friendship throughout.”

“Ugh, who wants to see something like that?” He gestured towards the TV. “I mean, come on. There’s these middle-aged ladies thinking about their friendship and people go crazy over it? Because that movie has been in and out so often, I’m surprised you even managed to get your hands on it.” He shook his head. “Who cares about other people’s friendships, really?”

“Sooo, if someone wanted to make a movie about you and me and our friendship – you wouldn’t watch it?” Steve spluttered, nearly choking on his beer.

“What? About you and me?” She giggled, leaning forward to wipe some beer off his cheek with the back of her hands.

“I mean, sure. We have a lot to tell, haven’t we?”

“Yeah, but…Why would I want to watch that? I was there for all of that.”

“Hmmh, that’s true.”

“And honestly, Hollywood would fuck it up and turn it into one of those fucking rom-com bullshit movies.” He scoffed, taking another sip of his beer. “You’d be played by Molly Ringwald – don’t hit me!” He caught her hand before she could. “It’s not even because you look alike or whatever, it’s because she gets all the chicks into the theatre!” She grumbled under her breath. Molly Ringwald, fuck that. “Anyway, I would totally be played by Tom Cruise. Obviously.”

“Why do you get Tom Cruise but I have to be Molly Ringwald!”

“I don’t make the rules, dude. Molly Ringwald is in every chick flick on this god damn planet.” She scoffed and stuffed her face with more Pizza. “I mean, damn, I wouldn’t be surprised to see her play an African desert princess at this point, simply because it’s her. She would obviously go up in flames because ginger plus sun equals yikes, but you know. Let SPF50 handle that, as long as the entire female teenage population of the united states runs into the cinema because Molly Ringwald!” He rolled his eyes and she scoffed.

“Do not throw all of us into the same pot, Harrington.”

“Ah, so you didn’t drag me into ‘Sixteen Candles’ like a mad woman, huh?” She scoffed.

“Yeah, but that was- it was- Michael Schoeffling, Steve!” The boy just snorted in that annoying ‘yeah right’ kind of way. “Tsk. You know what, Steve? You keep your Tom Cruise, because you know who they would cast as Billy and Ian?”

“Why would they be in that movie?”

“Well, Ian is my ex and Billy beat the shit out of you. That seems kinda important.”

“Once again: It’s been six years. Let it rest.”

“Never.” She shrugged, sipping on her beer. “Anyway. Billy would be Rob Lowe, definitely. And Ian would one hundred percent be John Stamos.”

“Rob Lowe and John Stamos? Didn’t you have, like, posters of them in your old room?”

“Yeah, so?”

“You were obsessed with them.” How could she not? Like, General Hospital was a good show but damn. John Stamos made it so much better and he wasn’t even the main event. And Rob Lowe? Man. Those eyes? The thought alone made her want to purr happily. Truth be told, she wasn’t mad that Billy and Ian were both working for her. Not that she was superficial, but a lady was allowed to enjoy someone’s appearance just a little, right? A tiny, selfish glance every now and again should be alright, yes?

“Your point?”

“Are you trying to tell me that Billy and Ian, of all people, are better looking than me?” At that, she could only shrug.

“You said it, not me.” Not that Steve wasn’t handsome – she’d just told him he was earlier today, hadn’t she? But nothing could beat John Stamos or Rob Lowe. Oooh, wait. Maybe that guy from ’21-Jumpstreet’. What was his name again? The guy that played Tom Hanson. That guy was great too.

“Wow. You are a horrible person.”

“Am not.”

“Yes, you are…oh my god.”

“What now?”

“You didn’t date Ian because he looks like John Stamos, did you?” She grinned.

“I did not. But, let’s just say…it definitely didn’t deter me.”

“Tsk. You know, maybe I should…” On screen, Bette Midler was suddenly in quite the hurry. “Woah, what’s she going on about?”

“I think it’s because of that note she just found. See?”

“Well, what does it say?”

“I don’t know, dumbass. Someone kept distracting me by talking all over the movie.”

“Huh…” He leaned back, long done with his Pizza, and eyed the television with furrowed brows. She couldn’t help but smile.

Who would have thought. ‘Beaches’ – the chick flick Steve really didn’t want to see – actually managed to snag his attention – oh wait. She would’ve thought. That was pretty much always the case, by the way. He was all pissing and moaning until the movie actually played. Within the first ten minutes, Steve would always be absolutely invested. He’d be yelling at the screen when the guys fucked up, and get annoyed at every bout of miscommunication.

Because that was who Steve actually was.

A big softie that knew how to enjoy chick flicks.

And very vocally so, too.

“No way. No way are they fucking on the opening night of her musical thing. Like, dude, who does that!? That’s such a bullshit move.” Steve threw a balled-up handkerchief at the TV. “Like, she saw that C.C. liked him. A blind guy could see that. Isn’t there something like a… girl code or whatever? Who needs friends like that! Shit.”

Realistically, couldn’t disagree with that one. It was a shitty move, truly. Who slept with the guy his best friend was into? That was just shitty. Like, technically speaking that would be like her sleeping with Nancy back when Steve was head over heels for the Wheeler princess. God, she would’ve felt horrible. No, no she absolutely agreed with Steve here.

“Yeah, such a dick move, Hillary.” Steve nodded; eyes still trained at the TV.

A better one came later somewhere in the movie. And god, this one would totally make it into her ‘Things to tease Steve with’ treasure chest – because that one? Pure gold.

“Oh my god, why do all the guys in this movie suck?!” He’d suddenly yelled, making her flinch. “Like, one fucks the one friend and then marries the other, only to divorce her couple years later - because boohoo selfish - and the other cheats on his wife! What is the moral of the story here, guys? All men suck? Is that what they’re trying to tell me here?” He finished another beer with a noisy sip before falling back into a more comfortable position. “Shit, I hate men, really, I absolutely fucking hate men.”

That one did it. She burst out laughing, a croaky, choked up laugh that started to hurt her sides really quickly. And Steve, slapping her thigh and glaring at her, really didn’t help much. But oh my god, what the hell – Steve Harrington, recently turned advocate for the ‘anti men’ fraction because someone fake-cheated on Barbara Hershey. Fuck, she needed to tell Robin about that.

The end of the movie, however, quickly beat the laughter out of both of them.

As the credits started to roll, neither of them really said anything. Both of them hanging low in their seats, shoulder to shoulder, trying to stomach the heartbreak the movie threw at them.

“…Well that ending was shit.”

“Yupp.” She nodded, wiping at her cheeks with the back of her hand.

“I mean, why did she have to die? Bullshit.” Steve pushed back his hair, clearly not agreeing with what he just saw. “Who makes a movie about friendship just to kill one of them off?”

“Right? I mean, was that necessary? God, they could just have hinted at it, but why show it?” At the thought, new tears blurred her sight. “And, I mean, the whole thing with the ‘Hi’ at the end, why make it so casual? Fuck.”

“Yeah, man. I mean, who walks into the hospital, sees their dying friend, and just says ‘Hi’!? What the fuck.” Silence settled once again, both of them staring at the names flying by on the screen.

Honestly, maybe they were just the wrong people for that movie.

Maybe someone else could have seen beauty or love in it. And sure, there certainly was love between those two, maybe even in its purest of forms. C.C. had driven her car through the night, leaving everything behind because of a simple note and spent the entire time reminiscing about her best friend. She’d raced to another town, because her friend was dying and she wanted to be there for her. So yes, there was love, there was beauty in everything.

But it didn’t register with her.

Not with her, not with Steve.

The problem with her and Steve was likely the fact that they’d both feared for each other’s lives before - more than once. It wasn’t a feeling she ever wanted to have to face again, and it wasn’t something she liked to talk or even think about. Because to her it was neither love nor beauty – it was just pain. She could imagine how Steve had felt when that Demodog jumped her in ‘84. That fucking beast had tackled her down, burrowing it’s claws into her sides, and tried to bite her head off or whatever those shit’s do. A well-placed hit with Steve’s bat had saved her, but damn. It’d been dangerously close. And then, back in ’86, when Steve was dragged into lovers’ lake...god. She felt his hand slip out of hers, she saw the panic in his eyes as he was dragged out of sight and for a moment her mind when silent, nothing but one thought prevailing.

Steve was dying.

Needless to say, she’d short circuited and dove into the water – which she absolutely hated – to save him. A tiny part of her wished she wouldn’t have, because hearing his screams and seeing those monsters maul him was…yeah, let’s just say it was the main setting of many of her nightmares. He knew, of course, because she’d told him. Just as he told her about his dreams. How he often dreamed about running towards the trailer she, Dustin and Eddie were supposed to be hiding in only to find the scene changed. Instead of her, hurt and screaming for help while dragging a bleeding, half conscious Eddie Munson towards the trailer he came back to silence. He came to find her lying right next to Eddie, bloody and disfigured. Or maybe he came back to screams all the same, but instead of hers it was Dustin or Eddie screaming while dragging her unmoving body.

“Hey.” Steve used his elbow to snap her out of her mind. As always, he just waited for her eyes to focus on him and for her mind to come back to the here and now. He didn’t ask questions, because he knew what the answers would be.

Once she was fully present again, he nodded towards her midriff. “You keep massaging your stomach. You okay?” Confused, she looked down at her hands. And sure enough, there she was, massaging away.

“Ah, no. I mean, yeah, I’m fine. Just one of those hissy tummy days.” Steve looked less than amused.

“Period or stomach bug?” Stifling a sigh, she let herself fall sideways on the sofa.

“Oh, the woes of womanhood.” Steve winced.

“Period, alright.” Sighing he patted her thigh. “Poor girl. How about, like, a heating pad or something? That helps, right?” He didn’t even wait for her to nod, he just got up and wandered on. “Where do you keep those?”

“I’m out, but I’ve got a hot water bottle in the wardrobe.”

“Shouldn’t you, you know, stock up on that sorta stuff?” Steve wandered into her bedroom like he owned the place, rooting through her drawers without an inkling of hesitation.

“I usually do, but I haven’t gotten around to it yet. This whole week’s been a mess and a half.” The boy just hummed his answer, wandering back into the kitchen to heat up some water.

“Do you need pain meds or something?” She watched him bustle around the kitchen from where she lay, frowning. “Hello?”

“What?”

“Do you need pain meds? Tylenol? Wait, do you take Tylenol for that?” She chuckled softly.

“I usually take Midol, but Tylenol works. But I don’t need any right now, it’s not that bad.” He did that cute thing he sometimes did, where he silently repeated things to himself in order to commit them to memory. She could clearly read his lips, read the word ‘Midol’ and just had to grin.

The kettle was done boiling and Steve went back into the kitchen for a few moments. It didn’t take him long to fill the hot water bottle, let some steam out, squeeze it and carry it over to her. Carefully, he dropped it onto her achy stomach, sending her an analytic glance.

“I’m fine, Steve. I do this every month, remember?” He winced again.

“Yeah, all the more reason someone should spoil you a bit.” He wandered over to the TV, rooting through her meagre collection of tapes. Picking one up, he removed ‘Beaches’ from the player with a disgusted face and changed it for something else. Then he got up, dropped himself back onto the sofa and nodded at the remote. “On with it, sweet girl. Molly Ringwald is waiting for us.”

***

‘The Breakfast Club’ kept running, both of them not really paying attention. Sometimes they’d talk but mostly, they just both got lost in their own thoughts. It was nice, though. Sitting quietly with Steve, not talking and not really doing anything was strangely comforting. The TV filled the quiet with useless chatter and provided them with light in her now entirely dark living room. Tut had at some point left the chair behind to curl himself up on Steve’s lap, where he was now purring away while the boy tiredly ran his fingers over the cat’s skin.

But not only that.

No, his other hand kept rubbing circles into her calf and she felt like purring herself. The gentle stroking was so rhythmical and comforting that she could feel herself drift in and out of sleep, barely able to focus on any coherent thought.

Until Steve started talking, that is.

“Hey, are you awake?” He suddenly asked, quietly and yet way too loudly. A non-committal hum was all she could offer. “Can I ask you something?” Steve’s voice sounded thick with exhaustion, indicating he was likely just as tired as she felt.

“…Shoot.” She mumbled back, the warm, sleepy atmosphere weighing on her heavily. Seriously, she’d probably stopped him from saying anything, had she had half a mind to. Sleepy Steve was a dangerous version of him. He was often too honest and too curious for his own good.

“So, uhm…we were talking about Ian earlier and it got me thinking.”

“…Ian?”

“Yeah.” Steve looked at her, his head tipped back against the couch. “You never really told me why you guys broke up. I mean, one day you guys were all in love and the next you’re crying in front of my door talking about how you needed a place to stay until Ian was gone.”

“Hmmh…” She sighed at the memory. She’d cried so much that night. Poor Steve was likely absolutely overwhelmed, but he’d taken it like a champ. He didn’t ask any questions, he didn’t cuss Ian out, he didn’t do anything but pat her back and let her cry. “Ian…” she started, her voice barely more than a whisper “…you know, he’s a good guy.” He really was. Ian looked like a douchebag with that pretty face of his and those broad shoulders, but he was actually one of the kindest souls she knew. He was caring, warm and soft. Loving. “And because of that, I had to tell him to leave.” Steve frowned.

“Okay, you lost me already. I’m tired, please go easy on me.” She grumbled, getting up only to plop down the other way around, her head against his shoulder. He put his arm around her, accepting her tired form into a loose embrace, while using the other to secure the hot water bottle back against her torso.

“I have nightmares. As you know.” He’d been there for many of them. “I mean, they’re not as bad now but...” Steve nodded, saving her the need of more explanation. “The worst, most frequent ones started back in ’85. And…well, Ian could deal with those. He kinda understood why they were happening, with Starcourt and my dad and brother and everything…or he thought he understood, at least.” She hugged the lukewarm water bottle closer against herself. “They got better the more time passed… which he noticed. And that would’ve been fine, I guess, had it not been for all that ’86 crap.” She focused on the TV in front where Molly Ringwald and Judd Nelson were bickering on. Blegh. “When they got worse again, he started to ask questions.” So many damn questions. “I didn’t want to lie to him… but I could obviously not tell him the truth.” If she closed her eyes, she could clearly remember the hurt on his face, the way his blue eyes turned hard whenever she shot him down. Ian…was an extremely kind man. But he was also someone who hated being shut out. She sighed. “A relationship filled with secrets and lies can’t work. I saw how he stopped trusting me every time I told him that it would be fine. That he didn’t need to know.” She bit her lips at the memory. “And every time he would ask more and more questions. He’d ask about my scars, about my dreams, my fear of dogs and tight spaces and why I wouldn’t just talk to him…And every time I could just look at him and say ‘It’s fine, Ian. It’s okay now’.” Tiredly, she wiped some stray tears from her cheeks. It was so dumb to keep crying about that – it had been a year now and both she and Ian had moved on. That didn’t make it any easier, though. “It hurt him; I know it did. And hurting him hurt me, so I just…”

“Let him go.” She nodded, closing her eyes against the new tears threatening to form. Steve sighed, stroking her arm with gentle fingers. “I know, what’s done is done. But couldn’t you just have… told him the truth?”

“Would you? If it was…I don’t know, anyone really.” Steve sighed again, placing his chin on her hair.

“…Probably not, no.”

“See?” She sighed. “He’s better off without all this. Without me.”

“Don’t say that. That’s not true. Nobody is better off without you, you’re great.” She snorted.

“Yeah…thanks, Steve.”

“You know I really mean that.”

“I do…” But believing it was another thing. Honestly, could she even rant about Steve never listening to her when she told him to stop blaming himself? She wasn’t any better. She hid away from everyone and everything, shut out anyone that wasn’t already involved simply because she feared she would make their lives worse by just existing next to them.

“Is that the reason you stopped dating too? The whole ‘questions you can’t answer’ thing?” She sighed against his neck, shrugging slightly.

“I don’t know…Maybe. Or maybe it was just…”

“Hm?” He looked down at her and she shrugged again.

“I really… really loved Ian. A lot.” If it weren’t so cheesy, she’d go as far as call him her first love. “I did try to move on. I went on dates and I tried really hard to get to know people. And sure, sometimes it was about getting laid, but others were genuine attempts at meeting someone I want to be with. But it just…it wasn’t the same.” He nodded, because that he knew. She’d told him every time, ranting about how the people she’d met were weird or rude. How they commented on her ‘workers hands’ or her body, how they tried to kiss her when she clearly said no. And even if she said yes, they somehow found a way to make her uncomfortable by getting all grabby and forward. Those were the worst kind of dates, the kind that made her feel dirty and used. The ones, where all she wanted to do was take a long, hot shower and forget about it.

Of course, not every date was like that.

There were many decent people around Hawkins if one cared to look for them. But even if it wasn’t that…they just never seemed right. Some dates were objectively nice, especially those that her friends had helped her set up. Steve and the others knew her, they knew who she might click with. Those were the dates where people would hold doors, ask questions and be friendly and polite. They wore nice clothes and the conversations flowed easily and continuously. And yet, even after those dates, the best part was the drive home.

“It just never…” she took a deep breath “…never felt right with anyone else.”

“…Yeah, I get it.” Steve said, shifting his arm to hold her a tiny bit closer. “I keep looking for something special, but it’s…it’s just never there. Maybe I should just, you know, wait and see. Give up the active hunt. Relax more…” Steve ran his fingers over her hair absentmindedly. “I don’t even know what exactly I want, what exactly I’m expecting to find. I just always know that this, whatever this may be, isn’t it.” They sighed in unison at that. “We’re a mess.”

“Fuck yeah we are.”

The two of them chuckled tiredly, huddled together on her small couch in the tiny single wide she called home, while ‘Breakfast Club’ slowly but surely reached its conclusion. Tut was happily snoring away on Steve’s lap, the sound mixing with the chatter of the TV, blending into a calming sea of noise. With every chuckle she felt Steve’s body vibrate softly against hers, a warm pressure, soft but firm at the same time. She could feel his breath against her hairline, he felt her against his neck – soft puffs of warm air that left way to soon.

The whole situation should have been uncomfortable or emotional. It would have been with anyone else. It would’ve been too much skinship, a blatant invasion of personal space. Every word would have been a dance along the lines of too honest and not honest enough, trying to toe around the dreaded overshare but keeping the whole talk genuine and open. Lies would have been told, truths would’ve been omitted in favour of not seeming too weak or too pathetic.

This conversation should’ve been so difficult, admitting their feelings and hopes should’ve been… and yet it wasn’t.

Instead, it was warm and soft, honest and quiet. A mere whisper in the dark. An ear that listened to the soft words of another, not questioning what was shared. It was the two of them, sharing everything while leaving each other room to breathe, to just be. Accepting the things that were said without judgement, without forcing the other person to act like something they weren’t.

It was comfort and ease, the routine of a long, close friendship. A friendship that had been through highs and lows, that had seen the worst parts of each person. A friendship, that persevered when one abandoned the other, when the wrong words were yelled at the wrong time, when promises were broken and forgotten. Time had tested it with girlfriends, mistakes and the supernatural.

Through that, it became a friendship that survived all the hurt thrown at it. It survived, because the two of them knew that, in the end, they would always choose each other again.

It was a friendship, that was like breathing.

Easy and thoughtless.

Because that was what the two of them truly were.

[tomdayaland]

And the night followed day

And the story tellers say

That the score brave souls inside

For many a lonely day sailed across the milky seas

Never looked back, never feared, never cried

[mysticstarlightduck]

Writeblr Battle Royale - Round 2 Elyren vs Herschel

Hi, there! I am taking part in @your-absent-father's amazingly fun event, Writeblr Battle Royale, where I and other cool writeblrs choose our most powerful OCs and make them fight in an interdimensional arena. It's chaotic, it's badass, and more importantly, it is FUN (:<

This is also the second round!

Important: These events are not canon to our stories! They're just something very cool we as writers have decided to subject our characters to, for the sake of writing practice and Fun tm, though it is completely unrelated to our projects and the characters' actual experiences in the books.

Check out the rules and other amazing fight scenes at @writeblrbattleroyale!

TWs: guns, blood, gore, graphic depictions of injury, burning/fire, hallucinating about a dead loved one's ghost, suicide, violence, repressed emotions.

In this fight my teenage elven sorcerer Elyren faces off against Herschel (@quisyop's character), in a new, more dangerous arena - a maze filled with deadly monsters.

Herschel’s head was pounding, horrible visions danced at the edges of his eyes. Bodies and death, family and friends burning and screaming. He felt his body shake and swerve, an aura of confusion covering him. His vision went dark. And he woke up to the dark green shades of a vast, vast maze.

Elyren blinked, eyes adjusting to the world around him as a new arena came into view. How great… He thought, before noticing the strange looking woman staring intently at him. She looked like a Fortune Teller, somewhat. He’d meant to ask who she was, but he wasn’t given that time. As she pointed at him, the world around him became blurred, like a strange dark fog. Elyren shook his head. Well, this isn’t ideal. The fog twisted and stretched, spiralling around him. Elyren couldn’t tell where he was, nor could he precisely tell what was happening or where he was going. Until he heard that voice, twisted and filled with hatred, but still painfully familiar.

"You did not save us.” The voice hissed, and Elyren whirled around. “All that happened, was because of you. It’s all your fault - I was foolish enough to believe you could be any different.” Elyren shook his head, speechless, staring at the bloodied ghost, he didn’t know what to say. Memories from that night assaulted his mind, the day that Elyren could never seem to forget playing out vividly before him. “We are dead because of you!”

Elyren bit back the urge to sob, struggling not to look away from the familiar ghost of his brother. “T-that’s not true. You were killed, I tried to save you. I- I am still trying to save you.”

“Liar. You went to that temple. Aeralyn followed you, I followed you. And following you led us straight to that Imperial scout. If you had only listened to me, for once in your stupid life, I would be alive. We would all be alive. But you had to screw that up too, didn't you? You deserved to be exiled.”

Elyren frowned, no longer trying to hold back the tears. He wanted to believe this wasn’t real. Kiran would never say these things, he’d never speak to him with such hatred. But that didn’t matter, because, at the end of the day, Elyren knew the truth. And the truth is that he always screwed things up. Even this. The world began to spin around him viciously, the ghost never once wavering from his accusatory glare. YOUR FAULT. Elyren placed both his hands tightly over his ears as the vision grew in intensity, spinning wildly like a hurricane around him, before it dissipated, fading away just like it appeared. And the winding maze appeared before him. With great effort to stop his hands from shaking, Elyren sighed, wiping away the remaining tears from this horrifying encounter, the rageful voice still screaming at the back of his mind as he steeled himself for the fight to come. Let’s just get this over with.

“Shit.” Herschel’s head pounded as he pushed himself off the grimy floor below him and tried to get a good understanding of where the hell he was. “Shit”. He, still shaking, checked his pockets and supplies. Not much. His gun, a couple of matches, and a small knife. (as well as some cash and things that wouldn’t help) The gun was still missing two bullets. “Shit!” He took a couple of moments to breathe and collect his thoughts. Three things were clear to him.

He was stuck in a maze, presumably by the… thing from the match before.

He would probably kill another at the end of this. Or be killed, a thought that… no, they could work together. He wouldn’t die.

He was having a hell of a bad day.

Herschel stuck his hand out and pressed it against the wall of the maze, ready to follow it to, hopefully, the end. He passed the place he started in 7 minutes.

First, he took a look around, taking in his surroundings. The walls of the maze were high, so climbing them was out of the question. There were multiple pathways he could take, though clearly only one would lead him to where he needed to go - and judging by whatever it was that had trapped them here, those pathways would likely be riddled with traps and gods know what other monstrosities. Elyren shook his head, taking a deep breath. There was no time to be rash or get lost in this place. If he wanted to be out of here, his only option was to get through this as swiftly as possible, face his next opponent and see where this takes him next.

Trying to focus searched his mind for a spell that could help. If he couldn’t go around this thing nor climb up, then his best option was go through. And he knew exactly the spell to guide him to where he needed to be.

With a twist of his hands and a few muttered words, glowing runes appeared before him, flashing a floating mix of purples and greens that lit up the dim maze. Elyren focused his mind at the center of the small glowing ball of light commanding it.

Lead me to the center of this arena, find my opponent. The runes buzzed, small sparks flying from it at the command, and after a small pause, it shot fowards, drawing a glowing line into one specific pathway of the arena and then further. Elyren smirked, and wasted no time following this guiding light towards his opponent. Now it was just a matter of time. Despite focusing on not losing sight of the runes, Elyren knew he should be careful, after all, he did not know what this maze was nor what lurked within it.

So, while running ahead, he kept watchful attention fixed on any signs of threats from his surroundings. That’s why - after what seemed like an eternity of running from corridor to corridor -when he heard that bellowing growl approaching from one of his sides, Elyren was not caught of guard, quickly making a sharp turn on an opposite pathway and pressing himself hidden against the wall, just as a strange looking beast lunged into the corridor he’d been standing moments prior, tracking, ready to strike at any small sound. He peeked over the wall, only ever so slightly.

The monster looked like nothing he'd ever seen before, mutated even. Elyren made himself quiet, controlling his breathing so as not to give away his hiding spot. From the corner of his eye, he could see his guiding spell was still within reach, floating next to one of the doorways, waiting for him. He needs to figure something out. Now.

Herschel had simply accepted that this maze was either

A deeply complex magical construct that shifted and moved with the explorer

Was a circle

He chose to ignore that latter possibility, figuring that he’d just have to explore the good old-fashioned way. With each step on rocky earth that had the texture of smooth marble, he felt his legs shake with more speed and strength. He shouldn’t have been walking so much. But he wasn’t. It was a short walk, probably barely half a mile, but his legs felt weighted down and cramped quickly through his travel. When the texture of the ground turned from slippery marble to a texture like sandpaper, Herschel went cramped up and slowed down, taking more effort in his watchful gaze. Then the headache of the sweetly sick smell of cotton candy found its way to his nose. It made him want to vomit, combined with the heat that he found himself feeling. The noise of a sharp blade on concrete alerted me to the beast that found itself on the corner of a turn. It launched at him, claws like broken shards of glass aimed at my chest. He barely slid out of the way and whipped my cane up in defense. He got a better sight of it, pale skin stretched taut against bones that turned in angles too sharp and pointed to be human. Attached to its body were vague estimations of what limbs should look like, more lumps of flesh stacked on top of each other than neatly designed appendages built from years of evolution. Teeth like freshly molded hot red glassware shined at me in the glaring sunlight from the skies above.

“Oh hell no…”

Herschel charged forward, using his cane as a makeshift staff and swinging it at the leg closest to him. The beast's leg snapped easily, bone poking out of its skin. It reacted in rage, swinging its neck at an inhumane angle and lunging at Herschel, who swiftly shoved the came in its mouth, trapping the teeth shut.

While it whipped its head around trying to free itself, he pulled his revolver out and shot twice in the thing's chest. A thick, viscous liquid burst out of it as if held in by tight pressure, its color remaining Herschel of the dark red of mahogany. Herschel wiped the sludge from his mouth and leaned down to pull the came out of the thing’s open maw. He pulled it out with ease and reached down to break off the teeth of the creature, ready to use it as a replacement weapon. The monstrosity snapped its jaw shut with its final wisps of life, tearing a long wound down his arm as he recoiled his arm.

“FUCK!” It was dead now. But Herschel was close to the same fate. Now without a way to support himself, he found his way to the corpse’s pierced leg, bone still fresh with blood. He steadied himself and pulled on the bone, with as much force as he could with his undamaged right hand (he’s a leftie!) and found himself smothering a cough of vomit as the dripping fragment slid out. So now he had a cane and needed a way to stop the bleeding.

He took an admittedly short glance at the torn skin of the beast before deciding against it. He slid off his glamorous furry coat and pressed it against the open cut. He stifled a cry of pain as the strands of fluff pressed against it and absorbed the pain. After a minute of recovery, he continued onward with his warped bone as a cane and an improvised bandage, deeper into the maze.

With practiced ease, Elyren reached for his runic bow, soundlessly nocking the arrow and pulling the string taut. Peeking behind the thick wall behind him, Elyren could see the beast stalking, mercifully distracted by the glow of his guiding spell - still floating on the other side of the corridor - like a kitten with a ball of yarn.

Carefully, he adjusted his position, placing the arrow on the corner of the wall, taking delicate aim. Elyren narrowed his eyes - the beast just keeps moving. He’d never been a great hunter, but this is ridiculous. Holding back the urge to scoff, Elyren took a cautious step forward, bow string still pulled taut, as he cast flaming blue runes onto the arrow’s tip - as silently as he could manage it, muttering the spell’s words under his breath. After all, there was no telling how good this beast’s hearing was. Once he was sure his aim was somewhat true, pointed carefully to what he assumed was the beast’s heart, he finally let the arrow fly and it lodged itself onto the creature’s thick flesh with a burning hiss. Good, that means the runes worked.

The monster howled, throwing its clawed paws up in the air in pained fury. Elyren was swift to press his back onto the wall once more, hiding himself from the creature’s sight - at least for now. He needed something to hide, and since this terrain provided little in terms of shelter or higher ground, he’d just have to get creative. The invisibility shroud. He’d done it before, in the previous fight, and it worked out well enough. Though there was still no telling whether or not this beast couldn’t track him by smell or hearing, though given it’s inability to find him behind the wall, it was likely that it relied strongly on its sight.

That’s it! He thought, biting back a triumphant laugh. I’ll use the shroud, blind the beast, and then go for the killing blow, whatever that may be. Perfect! As the creature prowled the hallways behind him with increasing fury - the runic spell still burning its necrotic flames inside its flesh driving the beast mad - Elyren knew what to do. It took no time for him to cast his invisibility runes, though he was careful enough to conceal them as well this time. Won’t make that mistake again. He thought, recalling how he amaterishly neglected hiding the runes in his prior fight, and how that cost him dearly. He also carefully placed his now empty bow on his back once more.

Now completely shrouded in invisibility, Elyren moved, steps light as featherfalls on the concrete floor beneath him. Now the tables were turned, he figured, as he was the one stalking the beast that had meant to kill him moment’s prior. That brought a satisfied smirk to his fine features, but he pressed on, reminded of the urgency of this moment as the beast rounded the corner right in front of him. He stopped, and the beast whirled its head from side to side, confusedly looking for the one responsible for the necromantic arrow on its back, but finding nothing.

As fast as he could manage, Elyren quickly got to work on his next spell, the same necrotic flames of the arrow now floated before his hands, hidden by the shroud, ready to blind the beast before him. He just needed the right moment. Unwilling to wait too long, Elyren whistled, loudly bringing the beast’ attention in the direction of the hallway where he was standing, though it still had no clear path to where he was in order to strike. Just as soon as the beast’s sight focused on his path, Elyren struck, blueish green flames flying directly onto the monster’s glowing eyes. And the beast howled, flames searing through it’s flesh like acid burning through paper, melting down it’s eyes closed. For good.

Wasting no time, and taking advantage of the beast’s confusion, Elyren pulled out both of his runic daggers, lunging towards the scrambling beast with a viper’s precision. This, he knew how to do, killing swiftly was second-nature to him after the War.

Aiming for the exposed throat of the thrashing mutated monster, after dodging a lucky strike of the monster’s impossibly sharp claws, Elyren aimed for the bulging veins upon its exposed throat. With another swift sidestep, his daggers plunged onto the waiting neck from both sides. With considerable effort, as the beast continued it’s agonizing thrashing - one of his clawed paws tearing a deep gash on the side of his leg - Elyren was able to sever the monster’s skeletal head from it’s shadowy, lion-like shoulders. As the strange head rolled on the floor, the body went limp, spasming one last time before promptly falling forwards, blood splashing all over his dark robes. Well fuck, this is going to be hells to wash off - Stumbling backwards, Elyren shakily supported himself on a nearby wall as his now-injured leg trembled and gave out, dark arterial blood seeping onto his clothes faster than it should. His invisibility shroud swiftly fell around him, revealing him to any incoming threats. This is not ideal.

Pain shot upwards from the injured leg, and he cried out, hand instinctively reaching out to press onto the wound, and scrunched up eyes going wide as soon as he felt how deep that gash truly was. Looking up at the dead monster’s body, shakily, he confirmed his suspicions. In the monster’s now still claws was a ripped up strip of a familiar cloth, tangled with - Elyren realized with a sudden urge to vomit - strips of his own ripped up flesh. Shivering, Elyren closed his eyes, turning his head away from the gorily unpleasant sight. There were other matters at hand. Like not bleeding to death before the real fight even began.

He knew what he needed to do - he’d done it many times before. It doesn’t mean it is any less horrifying to consider. Before a quick pause, mentally going over the correct spell, Elyren finally made his decision. His left hand glew bright with searing flames - normal ones this time, like what one may find at a campfire - and he moved to hover it above the gaping wound, hesitating for a mere moment. He knew many spells for killing, many more for controlling the dead and causing fatal harm, but he awfully lacked knowledge of how to heal things, especially on himself. I’ll have to work on that, I can’t keep roasting myself everytime I almost die. Gods, I should’ve listened to Kiran when he told me to learn more about alchemy, shouldn’t I?

Gritting his teeth tightly, Elyren decided to be quick about this. The quicker the flame, the quicker the pain. Swiftly, he all but slapped the flaming hand above the wound, beginning to sear it closed. An inhuman howl left him, despite his attempts to bite back his pain, and Elyren barely acknowledge the warm tears sliding down his face, all his thoughts focused on the gash burning closed on his leg.

The godsforsaken smell that rose from it was quickly becoming too much to bear, blood sizzling into evaporation making Elyren want to vomit even more. Swallowing back the bile, as more tears fell from his eyes, it pulled away the hand. Elyren looked down, gasping for air, and examined his handiwork. The wound wasn’t bleeding anymore, and though the burn was one of the most cursed sights he ever saw in his life, his leg was still functional. Good.

Elyren shuddered, taking a moment to steady himself as the white hot pain turned into a dull - equally unbearable - throb upon his leg’s charred skin. After a moment of testing his footing underneath him, Elyren finally felt confident enough to push away from the wall, taking a stumbling step towards the guiding spell still floating next to that strange doorway.

Limping over, Elyren slowly realized how far he was into the maze. The sounds of the cheering audience were distant, but present, and looking up, he could not see the arena’s higher walls anywhere close. He was at the middle of the arena, he realized. And his opponent was likely waiting for him on the other side of this next corridor. Walking slowly became less agonizing, as Elyren forced himself to become used to the insistent pain, pushing it to the back of his mind, determined to win this fight. Quickly.

Crossing this hallway, in his compromised speed as his leg all but dragged behind him, took a long moment, and as he made one final turn left, the spell dissipated. Elyren saw where he was. A wider clearing, in the very center of the arena, or so he assumed. And before him, his strange-looking opponent was waiting. Well, the spell was not wrong, he figured, bracing himself for the fight he knew was coming.

As Herschel’s final gasps of air were about to leave him, he locked eyes with a young… man? His skin was the color of the swirling sea, the undertones a deep indigo. His hair was long and silvery, falling down to his shoulders that were covered in a dark cloak. His leg was torn open and burned from methods that were ambiguous to Herschel. He didn’t know if this thing was another beast, a foe, or a potential friend. But he saw the look in his eye- one he, too, once had. A look of fear, and an urge to strike out at potential danger. He wanted to help this kid.

“Hey! You! You know what I’m saying?”

The strange looking man limping in the arena before him stopped in his tracks, leaning into a short bone for support. Elyren tried not to think where that bone had come from. He was slightly thrown off by this man’s attire, which looked like nothing he’d seen before in Agrannor. Well, he shrugged, still not weirder than all of this. Nothing can be weirder than this fucking situation. He quickly noticed how exhausted his opponent looked, but also did not fail to see how this person seemed to be analyzing him, as if checking to see if he was any threat. Subconsciously, one of his hands reached for the handle of his dagger, but din’t unsheath it. Just placed it next to the blade. Waiting for the man’s next move. Through the ringing of his ears, and the annoying pain shooting up from his blistered leg, he noticed the man was speaking to him. Adjusting himself and his hearing, Elyren finally understood it. “Hey! You! You know what I’m saying?” The man asked, and Elyren tilted his head.

“Yes, I do understand you. Why?” He questions, his sharp accent echoing around the arena. There was deep confusion in his eyes, but curiosity as well.

“I’m guessing you want to kill me? Like all the fucking things here?” Herschel had taken a casual posture, but kept a tight grip on the bone in his hand. “We don’t have to, you know! Violence isn’t the answer, as they say! …you probably don’t know what that means, don’t you… never mind! Just… don’t hit me preferably!”

Elyren narrowed his eyes at the man’s answer. One particular choice of word struck him quite harshly, though he was aware that this might not have been the man’s intention. Thing. “Like all of these fucking things up here?”

He remembered how it was like, in his past. Being hunted for sport, treated like cattle for slaughter. Just another abomination the Temple of Radiance had to eliminate. Just another thing.

Shakily, he shook his head. Now was not the time for this. He needed to think clearly, Elyren told himself, as he awkwardly took a steadying breath in, though it hitched. He didn’t know whether it was at the pain on his leg or the memories the word brought up. What a day.

“... Thing? No. Don’t you ever call me that again!” Elyren said, arms crossing over his chest protectively. “I’m not a thing. I am a person.” He paused, calming himself down and recalling the rest of the man’s response. “And no, I do not want to kill you. But… what choice do we have? How else can I get out of here?”

Despite himself, his lower lip quivered, before he forced his anger to return to his stony facade once again, speaking under his breath. “You’re not the only one afraid here.”

Herschel could feel the sting that his words dealt.

“No, you’re no “thing”, you’re right. You’re a magnificently complex miracle of nature, and whoever has said otherwise is wrong.” He paused when he heard the young man open up, realizing it must have been a hard thing for him to do. Herschel squatted down and placed his weapons on the ground, clearly showing himself to be unarmed. “You need a hug? Because I think I do too.”

Elyren paused, frozen like a statue. “... What?...” The word left his mouth almost without him realizing it. The man had apologized, sincerely in fact, for his slip up. And had offered him a hug. A hug? Elyren thought. What an unusual request for someone trapped in a deadly combat. He frowned slightly, considering if this was a trap or in earnest, eventually realizing it was the latter. A hug would be nice, he figured. No one ever hugged him after Kiran died. Most people just try to kill him on sight, like he is a pest or something disposable. This is new. This is… nice, if it is true. “... A hug would be great, honestly…" He ran a hand through his now tousled hair and shurgged, trying to be nonchalant and not awkward "Sure, why not."

Herschel strides forward, arms outstretched. A look of sad empathy is found in his eyes, but he covers it with a welcoming smile. As he reaches the peak of his stride, the noise a loud howl screeches out into the air. “Fuck.”

Herschel dashes forward and grabs Elyren swiftly, pulling him behind a scenic bush. “I’m sorry for the sudden push, and I’ll get you that hug in a moment, but it looks like we got a bigger problem in our hands right now. You seem like an efficient killer, but please keep yourself safe. If it comes to it, I can kill it. You don’t have to die.

The bellowing roar shrills through the air, chilling his blood within him, as his opponent - or should he call him friend? - drags him to safety behind what looks like a bush, but feels more like metal than anything else. Falling to the ground behind it, it took everything he had to bite back the cry of pain from the impact on his wounded leg, but he managed. In his shock, Elyren listened carefully register the man’s hurried words, as the beast’s footfalls echoed in the arena around him, menacingly.

Carefully, he peeked from behind his shelter, seeing a giant monster with a large toothed mouth. It was green, and grey, and looked like a mix between a praying mantis and a dragon. It was horrible, and he hated it already. Frowning, however, as he slipped back down out of side, he mulled over the man's words. “What? No. You’re not fighting that alone. I’m still breathing, that means I can still fight, and I’m not backing out from this. So, let’s kill this thing. Got a plan?” He said, slipping his bow back into his hands, and steadying their shaking as he moved to nock an arrow.

His words were hushed as he kept crouched down behind the “bush” out of the monster’s line of sight. He hoped. Elyren noticed the human’s worried glances to his injury - which admitedly was horryfying to look at - and tried to give him a reassuring smirk, which faltered into a pained grimace. He wasn’t sure at all. “Don’t worry about the leg. I’ve had a lot worse.”

Elyren didn't know if even he himself believed the words he just spoke, but there wasn't time to discuss it.

Herschel grimaces at the cut, but chooses to trust Elyren’s statement. “I left my weapons on the other side of the room, so I’ll join you in a second.”

As Herschel moves to stand up, Elyren stops him with a firm hold on his arm.

"Rule number one of survival: Never part with all your weapons. No one needs to know how many of them you have in the first place." Elyren says, as he gives Herschel one of his many daggers.

“Thanks! Little rusty, but should be good!” Then, Herschel looked at the beast. It was massive, almost double his height, and its limbs resembled jagged stone in their strange shape. Its natural armor was the color of sea glass, and its head jutted out strangely from the neck.

Without thinking twice, Herschel ran to the other side of the creature, swinging away from the stab of its arm and preparing to strike. “The name’s Herschel, by the way!” He yells out as he dashes towards the beasts side and manages to slice into its underbelly.

Elyren narrows his eyes as his new ally runs straight towards the monster, and sighs, shaking his head.

"I don't know why I am doing this, but alright then." He mumbles under his breath as he casts a shield spell, not for himself, but for the reckless human currently right beside the furious creature.

"Good to know your name!" He yells out, standing up fully to take good aim at the beast's neck, unprotected by its back armor. "My name is Elyren Tyrvommira. Just call me Elyren because yes, the surname is terrible for humans to pronounce, so don't worry about it."

On the other side of the arena, face to face with the monster, Herschel frowns, trying to figure out a way to pronounce Elyren's surname even though he was told not to. "Ty-ra-vom-Ira? … You know what, nevermind”

Elyren laughs, "Told you. Just forget it, oh Gods."

Herschel, now holding on the dagger as it pulls through the insect-like monster, quickly darts his eyes Elyren as strange glowing lines and circles appear around his hand. Herschel stares at them as they float around Eylren’s wrist, and is shocked out of it when he flys backward when the creature slams it's leg against his skull. But he feels no pain. Only the energy of the hit seems to transfer, and seconds later, Herschel is back up and grabbing his cane off the floor. “Thanks for whatever the hell that was!”

Elyren smirks. The spell worked - that's good. He rarely ever had to cast a shield for someone else, and it required a bit more concentration than usual, but at least it gave his newfound ally a fighting chance against whatever this monster was.

As the beast threw its head to the side to try and catch Herschel, it left its long, sinewy neck fully exposed. Perfect. Elyren coated his arrow with necromantic flames once more, and let it fly. The sharp tip lodged itself deep onto the thankfully exposed flesh with a gnarly hiss.

As the flames started to consume the skin and flesh of the very-much-still-alive monster, Elyren suddenly felt a jolt of dizziness, struggling to recover his concentration on the shield spell for a brief moment as his leg flared up brutally. Well, the hazards of being a sorcerer He thought, hand hovering over the burn on his leg as the other still clutched the bow.

After a short moment, his focus on the spell returned completely, but opening his eyes revealed an unforeseen reality.

Upon trying to handle both his pain and the spells, he had forgotten to hide himself from sight. And the monster was currently racing it's bug like form towards him, despite the flames currently eating at its neck. No time to think, just run.

"A little help would be nice! Quickly. Like right now!" Elyren screamed, trying his best to limp away from the quickly approaching monster, which was now furious. He didn't have time to nock another arrow, nor to cast another spell with his compromised focus. His only chance now lied in his ability to find a better position to stab this thing. If he could manage to escape it's claws in time

He stumbled, almost falling to the floor, and his injured leg locked in place, refusing to move as a wrong step shoots more pain through his very core. Elyren looked up. The monster was almost upon him. He braced himself for the inevitable. But the bite never came.

Herschel only had a couple of seconds to process whatever the hell was going down with the glowing runes, because the beast was dashing toward his ally at a breakneck pace. Herschel took a swift breath and dashed at the thing, cane in his torn left hand.

He brought the bone down with all the force he could on the thing’s leg, which was already ablaze with madly flowing, flesh-consuming strikes of fire. A sick pop could be heard throughout the maze as it made contact and the thing’s head twisted as if on a swivel. Herschel fell to the ground, clutching his arm, as the beast shakes and twists beside him.

“You… good? Might have some… I can give you my clothing of you’re bleeding."

Elyren pants, out of breath as he puts all his weight on his uninjured leg. He might have miscalculated the damage his previous encounter in the maze had caused him - his leg was all but torn, held together only by the clumsy cauterizing he'd cast. It was... agonizing.

Watching from afar, he saw as the beast stopped in its tracks, his ally tackling its leg with his cane. He shook his head at his ally's question, taking a shaking, rattling breath to try and think through the pain.

Running had only made it worse, he realized that now, but there was no time. "... I'm not bleeding, I think hng I ... made it stop. It just hurts. A lot" He blissfully keeps out the details of how the previous monster had torn away a chunk of his leg, which was now an open wound, and how he had to sear it closed by himself. There was no need for the other to worry more. He positioned himself out of the struggling beast's reach.

It had been deterred but was recovering remarkably fast, climbing onto its remaining legs as it let out a blood-curdling howl. "But we don't have time. We need... to end this." Elyren choked out, forcing his voice to sound even and strong, clutching his dagger as he scrambled in his mind for a plan. "If I... If I can restrain it, can you help kill it?" He called out, drawing the beast's attention onto him with a whistle as he awaited the other's response.

Across from him, Herschel staggers up. “Hell yeah, man.”

He poses his staff above the thing’s neck where the arrow had pierced, ready to slam it in like a hammer and nail. “This is gonna get bloody!”

Elyren nodded. Closing his eyes, glowing purple runes appeared on the arena's floor, as the concrete stone started to rearrange itself onto chains. Focusing on it, Elyren ordered the chains to latch onto the creature's back, restraining it constrictively. Hands stretched out, Elyren made the stony chains tighten around it, all his remaining strength channeled into keeping the thrashing monster held onto the now broken floor from which the chains had sprouted. This wouldn't last for long, but it was the chance they needed it. He met his ally's gaze and nodded again. New runes - another spell - formed around Herschel's staff, marking its end sharper, giving them a greater chance to kill this thing. Out of breath, struggling to hold both spells at once and ignore his growing pain, Elyren ordered, a panicked lilt to his voice.

"... Do it! Now, do it now!"

With his last breaths as blood poured from his open wound, Herschel’s staff was lifted in a high arc above his head and slammed into the creature’s skull. An explosion of blood covered his lower body, and he felt himself kneel to the ground as his body gave up beneath him. But he rose back up, using his bone as a weight to hold himself. He shakily lifted his hand and brought a thumbs up to Elyren. He managed to cough out, “How about that hug?” before collapsing into the stone floor.

Elyren keened, finally able to let go of the spells he'd been holding onto. His head ached like it had been smashed with a hammer, and he could barely feel his feet. All that he could feel was pain, shooting up from his charred, torn leg.

His vision swimmed, for a moment, and Elyren felt as if the ground was moving beneath him, which he knew from experience was a tell-tale sign of being about to pass out. Closing his eyes tightly, he forced his body to steady, breathing through the pain until the dizziness stopped and the ground felt even once again.

He opened his eyes just in time to see his ally collapse. Elyren felt an unexpected surge of worry. Had Herschel been injured? Elyren analysed the other, looking for visible injuries. The monster's blood was dark as tar, which made it incredibly easy to see the growing crimson stain in the other's clothes, around a wound. Oh.

With his leg dragging behind him, insistently numb and agonizing at the same time, Elyren was able to limp over towards Herschel, who was now waiting for him just around the fallen monster between them. Once he reached the other, Elyren paused. "... Yeah, a hug... sounds about nice... right now," He reached out a hand. "Do you want to... get up... or do you prefer to stay sitting down...? Either way it's - it's fine. For me. You helped out... a lot... in the battle. "

Herschel speaks softly. “It’s fine… I can…” He tries to move himself but his body refuses. “Sorry, I… don’t think I can.” He reaches out to hug Elyren.

Elyren notices the other's struggle and nods. "Don't try to.. get up. I'll get .... to you, sorry." Wincing, Elyren lowered himself into a seated position so that the hug was easier to achieve, Elyren responded with an awkward, distant, but gentle hug. He hoped his lack of practice in such things wasn't so apparent, but he knew it was. Gods, I'm pathetic. How can I not remember how to hug?

They stayed like that for a while. It was nice, Elyren realized, leaning a bit more into the hug before letting go. This was his first hug in years, and only now had he realized how much he'd missed it - being hugged. He stiffled a small sob at the thought, before clearing his throat.

After the hug ended, they stayed on the floor, just sitting side by side. Elyren's gaze wandered upwards, towards the tallest wall of the arena. The wall from where M - and likely hundreds of others - were watching these fights. He set his jaw tightly, thinking.

"... What now? I - I mean. How do we get out of this? We were... supposed to fight, but now, I can't do this, I don't want to do this."

I just want to go home. The thought dies in his throat before he can bring himself to say it out loud.

Herschel takes a breath, one loaded with sorrow hidden by years of practice. “Don't worry. I can fix this.” He slips out his gun and presses it into Elyren’s hand. He guides it up as Elyren stares at it, confused. He presses it against his own forehead, as the young elf holds the gun.

"What is this? I don't understand." Elyren asked, confused, trying to pull the gun away from Herschel's grasp, to pull it away from his forehead, but the other did not let go. Despite not knowing what this contraption was, Elyren somehow felt it was nothing good. "W-what does it do? Tell me what does this do, let it go-"

Herschel whispers calmly to Elyren. “It’s a way for both of us to be happy here. When I say so, you’ll pull the trigger- the little thing on the bottom- and it’ll fix the problems. And hey, the next one that comes along, just point this thing at it, using those fun little glowy things from before if you’d like, and it’ll fix the problem too.”

Herschel, strangely, doesn't feel fear or anxiety. At least for himself. He realizes, after a moment, that he has one last message for Elyren.

“Don’t let anyone pretend that you aren’t a person. That you aren’t a sentient being. Because you are, kiddo, and I know with all my heart that you’ll do good. I… believe in you… if that matters.” With that, he makes a gesture with his hand to signify to press the trigger.

Elyren's hands shook. He listened to the other's words, trying to understand what they truly meant. This didn't look like a nice thing. This... this looked like a weapon. Realization hit him faster than a falcon - Herschel was trying to give him a way to kill him without a fight. Whatever this did, it was - he hoped - an easy way out. For the both of them. Despite still not wanting to do this, despite hating this with every fiber of his being, Elyren forced his hands to obey, moving to clutch the weapon with both his hands, holding it more precisely. Tears were falling unbidden from his eyes, Herschel's last comment made Elyren choke up, more tears following suit. He'd waited for so long to hear those words. That he is not a monster. That he can do good. How twisted is the hand of fate that he now has to kill the person who just said the words he'd been waiting for so long. Elyren stammered, trying to breathe through his sobbing but failing. "...Thank you. F-for what you said. I'm so sorry, I'm sorry...!"

All Herschel did in response is clasp his hand on Elyren’s, holding it firm. He nodded in understanding.

Elyren took a deep breath, steadying his hands one last time. Pull the trigger, Herschel had told him. What is a trigger? He thought to himself, carefully leaning over to see within the weapon, and maneuvers his shaking fingers to clumsily but carefully rest upon what he thought was the trigger. I'm so sorry.

He barely presses the mechanism, and a loud, awfully loud sound echoes around the arena. Elyren screams, ears ringing from the unexpected sound. Blood splatters onto his face due to the proximity, and as Herschel falls limply to the floor, a hole upon his forehead, Elyren watches numbly the pool of blood grow.

He's frozen, unable to move. Everything feels too much, and he feels too numb. His hands are still wrapped around the handle of this strange contraption called a gun. He hates this. He hates himself. Shivering, he moves to lower the gun, but his shaking fingers cause him to drop it, clattering onto the bloodied floor before him, like it's accusing him.

Elyren forces himself to look away from the corpse of his ally, the newfound friend he'd been forced to kill, turning his back to what he had to done. Like he always did. People always died because of him. Maybe the illusion of Kiran's ghost was right, after all. And now, he waited. He had won. It doesn't mean he has to like it. Right now, with the distant cheers of the audience echoing around him and the corpse of his ally beside him, Elyren wished he could just not think at all.

At least for a while, before he would be forced to go through these hells again soon.

[mermaidxatxheart]

Hot Writer Summer Challenge

Hey, everyone. It's been a minute since I've seen a writing challenge going on. I was talking with @musings-of-a-rose about hosting one, and since I'm close to being at 18k followers, I figured why not? so here it is. I'm excited to start this.

Rules

You don’t have to be following me, but it would be wonderful if you did. 

This will be for Marvel, Star Wars, Triple Frontier, and Top Gun: Maverick.

I 100% approve of noncanon. That’s the beauty of fanfiction. Make it what you want. 

Two people per prompt. (I can be persuaded to go up to three if they’re different fandoms) 

No underage, noncon, and tag appropriately for warnings please. 

Due Date: August 31, 2022

Please send me an ask with the prompt and character you choose. The ask will help me keep track of it easier and make sure I get everyone tagged appropriately. 

There isn’t a word limit, but if it’s over 500 words, please use the Keep Reading line

Use the tag #hotwritersummerchallenge and please be sure to send me a message if I don’t respond to it within 24 hours. 

I will be making a Master List of all the stories and it will be added to the one already in my bio. 

Prompts are below the cut!

Tropes

Enemies to lovers

Friends to lovers

There was only one bed(@garnette-gal Jake 'Hangman' Seresin) (@musings-of-a-rose Benny/Frankie)

Locked in a room

Snowed in

Fake dating (@skvatnavle Robert 'Bob' Floyd) (@valthevalkyrie Benny Miller)

Forbidden love

Secret billionaire/identity/royal

Second chance

Girl next door (@skvatnavle Jake 'Hangman' Seresin)

Damsel in distress

Unrequited love

Best friend’s brother/sister

AU

Soulmates (@utterly-in-like Jake 'Hangman' Seresin)

Gods/goddesses 

Disney

Social Media

Lumberjack

Pirates/mermaids/sirens

Dragon

Vacation

Coworkers/teammates 

Werewolves

Musicians/band mates

Mobster

Western

Songs

Somebody you loved- Lewis Capaldi(@skvatnavle Frankie Morales )

Bad Habits- Ed Sheeran

I hate love songs- Kelsea Ballerini

Addicted to you- Avicii

The night we met- Lord Huron (@stevenswetdream Marc Spector)

If you love her- Forest Blakk

Great Balls of Fire- Miles Teller

I don’t know about you- Chris Lane

What a shame- Layla Blue

Can’t help falling in love- Elvis

Marry you- Bruno Mars 

Marvin Gaye- Charlie Puth 

Tennessee Whiskey- Chris Stapleton

Toothbrush- DNCE (@spiderl0rd college!peter parker)

Unsweet- DNCE

Happier- Ed Sheeran

Wrong side of heaven- Five Finger Death Punch

Best I ever had- Gary Allan (@opalinedaydreams FloydSin)

A minute without you- Hanson

All of me- John Legend

Still in love with you- Jonas Brothers

Love bug- Jonas Brothers

Better together- Luke Combs

The story of tonight- We The Kings

Boyfriend- Tyler Cassidy

Check yes, Juliet- We The Kings

Girlfriend/ Avril Lavigne

I never planned on you- “Newsies”

50 ways to say goodbye- Train

Someone like you- Adele

Pov- Ariana Grande

Seize the Day- Avenged Sevenfold

Should’ve said it- Camila Cabello

Drinking alone- Carrie Underwood

I love you as much as someone like me can- Galavant

Dialogue

My finger trembled above the trigger. “I’m so sorry.” (@fangirl-316 Benny Miller)

I’m covered in the memories of you. 

“Are you even listening?” “Yeah, it just takes me a while to process so much stupid all at once.” (@utterly-in-like Hangnab/Rooster)

Damaged people are dangerous. They know how to make hell feel like home.  (@nekoannie-chan Steve Rogers)

You want a fight? I’ll bring a war. 

“It never stops hurting, does it?” “What?” “Giving someone the best of you and watching them choose someone else.”(@utterly-in-like Top Gun Maverick)

We can’t giggle, it’s a crime scene (@stuckonjbbarnes Yelena/ Kate Bishop)

“You can’t love someone else unless you love yourself first.” “Bullshit. I have never loved myself. But you? Oh god. I loved you so much, I forgot what hating myself felt like.” (@skvatnavle Benny Miller)

Sometimes memories are the worst form of torture. (@honey-dew-woo (Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw)

“I thought you forgot about me.” “Never.”

“How drunk were you last night?” “Well, I still have my pants on, so not that drunk?” “Those aren’t your pants.”

She opened her apartment door to hundreds of roses. She knew they were from him; he had found her. 

Mood boards

Cottagecore

Winter

Tropical/Vacation

(@vanemando15 Frankie Morales/Friends to Lovers)

Haunted/Spooky

Tagging my usual Tag Lists in case anyone would like to participate.

Everything Tag List

@everythingisoverrated @psyched2b @bitsandbobsandstuff @wkemeup @barnesandco @gambitsqueen @lokisironthrone @imanuglywombat @also-fangirlinsweden @ravenesque @murdermornings @countryrockmama @kato-ptris@katzenwahnsinn @heli0s-writes

Star Wars Tag List

@bookishofalder @doctor-warthrop @acrossthesestars @waterpancakeao3 @generousrunawaydonut @eclipsedplanet @general-latino @marvelobsessiononastick @itsdameron @mads-weasley @rawrrimamonsterr @diaryofkali @mrsdaamneron @sabxism @fanfictionismydeath @rainlumos @jaxrando @fallinallinmendes

@unicornships @rooster-bradshaw @thebradleybradshaw @fitzells @halfway-happyyy @cherryblossom-enthusiast @mmurdock85 @charnelhouse @infuriatinglyoptimistic @cowboystokes

[laminy]

New Year’s Eve, December 2040.

[pleasereadmeok]

A Goode Year 2022

I’m doing this a bit early coz I won’t be around much over the holidays.  Every year I sit down to write these thinking - hmm - we didn’t see enough of Matthew Goode this year.  [NEVER enough]  But then each year I’m surprised by how busy he is. 

January was all about season 3 of A Discovery of Witches. 

[📷 Sky]

Sadly it was a shorter season due to Covid but we got to see Matthew Goode back in the suit and cashmere for Prof Clairmont once more.  And he held babies.  😁

Stop animation ‘The House’ was released on Netflix - 

[📷 Nexus]

...  and we all watched and wondered what the hell it was all about.  Matthew played this guy called Raymond - 

Coz you just look at Raymond’s felty face and your first thought is ‘Matthew Goode’? Nope.  Anyway this got quite a following from the stop animation fans and won some noms and awards so all goode. 

Also in January we got our very first glimpse of Matthew Goode in ‘The Offer’ when this little teaser dropped - 

[📷 Paramount +]

There he is - BOB!  

More promos appeared later in January including this gem - 

[📷 Miller Mobley]

February gave us more of Matthew Clairmont in his sharp jackets and cuddlesome cashmere. 🤤

We also got the amazing trailer for ‘The Offer’ and all of our hopes were fulfilled when we got our first look at Matthew’s awesome portrayal of Robert Evans. 

The best thing was that other people noticed it too and at last Matthew got some love for his acting skills from the critics.  

In other news - The Wine Show moved to it’s new home on AcornTV AND Matthew surprised us by attending the London Premiere of ‘The Duke’. 

He was obviously excited to be there and we loved seeing him in the flesh again. 

‘The Duke’ was just what Brits returning to the cinema needed - an old fashioned Brit comedy drama.  Matthew shone as ‘star’ barrister Jeremy Hutchinson and he was so convincing that he’d definitely be the one I’d call if I needed representing in court - 

 In March we said a final farewell to ‘A Discovery of Witches’ 😢 but not before we got to see some adorable Matthew outtakes - 

Meanwhile Matthew was clearing out his wardrobe and putting a lot of goodies into the ‘Auction for Ukraine’.  It wasn’t until later that we found out that the idea and most of the organising had been started by Matthew and that he roped in some high profile friends to help. 👏 

April was wall to wall ‘The Offer’ promotion.  We haven’t seen Matthew do so much promotion for a project since 2014 so this was heaven for Goode fans -

 So many funny and engaging interviews to enjoy but I swear if I hear him say ‘timbre’, ‘cadence’, ‘YouTube’ and ‘wormholes’ ever again I might have to scream.  

Better still - Matthew attended the LA premiere for ‘The Offer’ so we got another red carpet interview and even more new pics of him - 

[📷my edit from Extra TV youtube]

When ‘The Offer’ premiered on the 28th April - OMG Matthew was incredible as Robert Evans.  A stunning performance in every way. 

The Bob show continued through May and we got more goode interviews and articles to enjoy.  Just going to highlight this one in the LA Times - https://www.latimes.com/entertainment-arts/tv/story/2022-05-05/the-offer-paramount-cast-matthew-goode-robert-evans   coz of the gorgeous pictures by Dania Maxwell

[📷 Dania Maxwell/LA Times] 

Matthew and Sophie were also invited to the London premiere of ‘Top Gun’ - presumably by Miles Teller?  Anyway - he gave us a little wave on red carpet TV - 

[📷 screenshots from Red Carpet TV and Tristan Fewings]

At last we saw Matthew do another chat show!  In June he was a guest on NBC's ‘Late Night with Seth Meyers’ and joked about getting into American Football and trying to get X [R] rated movies from his local store as a kid ....  

Matthew attended the New York Premiere of ‘The Offer’ the next day - 

[📷Michael Loccisano/Getty Images]

Paramount + launched in the UK later in June and Matthew introduced ‘The Offer’ to the audience - 

[📷 Mike Marsland/Dave J Hogan] 

Matthew’s amazing work on the Auction for Ukraine was finally revealed in a fun guest appearance on The Chris Evans Radio Show.  We also got the first hint about his next project - with an acting hero 🤔  

[📷 Virgin Radio]   

One of the top auction lots was a lunch hosted by Matthew and friends at Hide restaurant - 

[📷 Hide Restaurant]

Before Matthew headed off for his summer holidays in July he found time to guest on ‘This Morning’ with Alison and Dermot.  

He talked about how he nearly missed out on getting the part of Robert Evans due to visa issues 😱 and he confirmed that acting hero he would be working with was indeed Anthony Hopkins!

Matthew headed off to Greece for a family holiday but found time to take a selfie with some fans - 

[📷 Paul and Kerry Hulme - cropped for privacy] 

July also brought us the official trailer for ‘Medieval’ and we got to see Matthew swaggering about in lavish cloaks and that glorious ginger hair - 

Matthew turned up with Hugh Bonneville at a Coldplay gig at Wembley arena in August - 

Medieval was released in September so we saw more of Matthew’s spectacular costumes and THAT hair - 

What happened in October?  Not a lot but in November we did get confirmation that Matthew would be working with Anthony Hopkins on the movie ‘Freud’s Last Session’.  

The movie will be based on the play by Mark St. Germain and Matthew will play C.S. Lewis.  

So I think that brings us up to date.  It’s been a Goode year for showcasing Matthew’s superb acting skills with his perfectly crafted role as Robert Evans in ‘The Offer’ and watching him actually enjoy promoting a show has been a highlight for me.   But if I have to choose the best part of the Goode year - Matthew’s work in getting together the Auction for Ukraine needs a special mention - coz he sure won’t mention it.  He obviously worked really hard on calling in favours and getting things moving and as a result the Auction raised £838,900!  So well done Matthew and all of your friends who helped! 👏

[band--psycho]

Valentines Day Drabbles

Hello my lovely followers! 💛

So, as valentines day isn't too far away I thought I'd hop on here and say that I'm hosting a Valentines day drabble writing challenge!

The strories will be between 100 and 500 words!

You can also only choose one prompt per character request - If a prompt/trope has been crossed out it means that I have had two requests for it and will not be accepting anymore.

Below you'll find a list of prompts/tropes & characters that I would like to write for:

Prompts / Tropes:

First valenties day togehter

"Will you be my valentine?"

"I hate valentines day"

Platonic Soulmates

Angsty Valentines day

Valentines Night

Valentines day on a budget (not being able to afford expensive giftds etc)

Secret Admirerer

Working on Valentines day

Valentines day proposal

Red lipstick

Valentines day letter

Characters:

Vander

Negan

Chibs Telford

Jax Teller

Steve Harrington

Robin Buckley

Harvey Specter

Remus Lupin

Draco Malfoy

Neville Longbottom

Natasha Romanoff

Benedict Bridgerton

If you want to send in a request just send me an ask with the character and prompt/trope you want me to write the story for.

As always, thank you all for the continued support! 💛

Tagging:

@xacatalepsyx @mikaelson-salvawhore1864 @little-diable @yn-ymn-yln @munsinner @withmyteeth @beeroses @barbersjoy @conretewings @darthwheezely @xbreezymeadowsx @deathbecomesnerds @beth-gallagher22 @malfoys-demigod @wild-rose-35 @ambitionspassionscoffee @impala1967dwinchester @thaliastregona @backstagewiththemadness @book-dragon03 @thefictranslator @rebelwrites @lovebarefootblonde

[canmom]

L’aventure de Canmom à Annecy - Mardi

or, the real Annecy starts here.

Tuesday was nuts! I saw so much stuff. I have cracked the code.

So, if you wanna know what Annecy is like, I can’t possibly present it better than La Cachette, who made this sponsor intro that plays before every movie...

Imagine everyone shouts “lapin!!!” when the rabbit appears and also when the rabbit gets eaten by the T. rex. But yeah: the sudden rainfall, the paper planes flying around, pop pop pop.

Anyway, Tuesday was crazy, I saw so many great movies, with some real surprises too! I wrote about them all below~

It’s interesting to think about like. Annecy traditions are this sort of free floating wave. The cohort of people who go to Annecy each year is constantly rotating (as different students graduate etc.) but there’s enough overlap to pass on these traditions, much like at schools with the ‘cool S’ and paper fortune tellers and other parts of, you could say, ‘child culture’.

Anyway, the day began with an expensive hotel breakfast (food is so expensive in Annecy) followed by queuing up for another crack at The Concierge...

Despite arriving around 2 hours early, we never stood a chance. Also it started raining. I did nevertheless manage to draw the queue in front of me, but it was very rough.

Failing to get in to that, my friend decided to queue for Lonely Castle in the Mirror while I went off to the VR hall again to make some early registrations. This time I watched I Took A Lethal Dose of Herbs by Yvette Granata from the USA.

This one was made in Unity (I could tell because it didn’t load properly at first and I was clipped into the floor and saw the default Unity skybox lmao) running on a Quest 2 via Quest Link. It puts you in the body of an anti-abortion activist who goes through post-partum psychosis and then, becoming pregnant again, attempts suicide, before finally accepting an abortion.

The presentation is essentially a non-interactive VR horror game. At one point your legs get eaten by hallucinations of demon babies; another part sees a room gradually transform into a deep-dreamed variant. As a horror film, it was kinda neat. The credits announced “based on a true Reddit story” which kind of knocked me flat lmao. It was entertaining, but I don’t think it really hit the impact intended.

After that, with bookings locked in for two more VR films, I scooted back to join my friend in the queue for Lonely Castle in the Mirror directed by Keiichi Hara, who I wrote about a bit back on Animation Night 137. This time Hara has A1 Pictures rather than mighty Production I.G. behind him, but it’s still absolutely a nicely drawn movie; the composite is more restrained than the above image might make you think.

This turned out to be a screening with only French subtitles, so I got some unexpected Japanese listening practice. I definitely didn’t pick up every detail, but between the visuals, the Japanese audio and the subs I was pretty much able to follow the plot. And a good plot it was! An assortment of teenagers are transported each month through mirrors into a mysterious castle, overseen by a girl in a wolf mask, which provides them all a refuge from their various difficulties at home.

Our viewpoint character is a shy girl who has gone hikikomori after bullying by a group of schoolgirls, and is hurting from the lost connection to another girl. As the story unfolds, we learn more about what happened to her and the other characters; meanwhile the kids hang out in the castle, gradually forming connections.

The castle is like... well diegetically there’s no question it exists, but it’s the kind of magical thing that reflects the character’s emotional struggle. The climax of the film involves a wolf stalking the castle and devouring the children, which is basically a suicide metaphor, and Kokoro going into the castle to attempt to save everyone.

Even with French subs, I ended up enjoying this movie a lot.

Following this my brother came into town on his way to Portugal for a family holiday next week. I met up with him and we had some tasty noodles. We split up again, him going to check out some of the old buildings of Annecy, me going back to the VR room...

where I discovered that if an Annecy juror shows up to watch a VR film, your slot gets cancelled, so I didn’t get to see From The Main Square. But I did get to see Shadow by David Adler and Ole Bornedal from Denmark and the UK.

This one turned out to be really fucking good. It’s an incredibly intense semi-interactive movie in which you play the part of a bomber navigator on a morning raid. Your job is to confirm the target so the pilot can blow it up, but with the fog, the sea, the movement of the plane and battle outside, it’s a lot easier said than done.

This film does a fantastic job of building tension in the runup to the attack. The interactions between your character and the pilot are acted very well, and the sea and mist outside - rendered in Unreal - is properly sketchy to fly through. You confirm the target by using head tracking to look at a yes/no input, and I was fully caught up in trying to make sure we hit the right building and didn’t get shot. Such a tense film, and honestly kind of a vindication of the VR format. I hope there’s something else as good in there.

Following this I scooted over to see the short films collection 4. This turned out to be a great choice: there were very few misses and a lot of plain great films. Also I guess this was like where they put all the gore and nudity lmao, but who knows, I’ll have to see other short film selections.

Haljina za finale dir. Martina Mestrovic presented a sweet picture of the day in an old lady’s life, in which she dyes her dress black and reminisces about the past.

Salvation Has No Name dir. Joseph Wallace was a really cool stop-motion film, making really creative use of old woodcuts along with its puppets, about a refugee who washes up on the shore of a paranoid village and a prevaricating priest who tries to protect her, tries to have sex with her, and takes her newborn child and pushes her away; it’s all presented by a circus troupe who are also the villagers attempting to cover their ass for what they did. There’s some really neat devices of presentation - e.g. the refugee woman speaks English same as the villagers, but diegetically they’re speaking different languages. The metaphors are pretty on the nose, but it’s really nicely shot and tense.

L’Ombre des Papillons dir. Sofia El Khyari is a more abstract one, a very beautifully painted erotic dream with a lot of morphing and transformations (particularly things turning into butterflies). Really nice use of texture in this one.

Wild Summon dir. Saul Freed and Karni Arieli is where things got really nuts. This is like. The most photorealistic hard vore guro film I’ve ever seen lmao. So like the idea is it’s like, a nature documentary on the life cycle of salmon, with all the beautiful shots of landscapes and rivers you’d expect, but with the twist that all the salmon are anthropomorphised to humans in wetsuits and masks (as you see above). These anthro salmon then die horribly in all the ways salmon tend to, at the hands of both animals and humans.

Our main character is a salmon who gets tagged with a tracker by some scientists; this allows her to be thrown back in the water when caught by a fishing trawler for example. The voiceover is by Marianne Faithfull doing an effective old posh british lady voice (I sorta wondered if it was Judy Dench). If this was an actual nature documentary it would be a really beautiful one, but the anthro thing adds an amazing surreal edge.

This one was filmed in the UK, and it’s definitely leaning on the big VFX industry we have over here. Absolutely fascinating film honestly.

I’m Hip, solo animated by American John Musker and comped/edited by Talin Tanielian, was also a delight. Just four minutes of really strong lively traditional animation as a cat sings a self-aggrandising song before getting chased out of town; old-school in a good way.

Daug Geresnis dir. Skirmanta Jakait was the one that lost me, though I imagine if I saw it with English subs I might get more out of it (I saw it in Lithuanian with French subs). I really like the visual style, but the film was a sort of incomprehensible chain of surreal images and I didn’t really know how to put them together.

Drijf dir. Levi Stoops from Belgium wrapped up this collection. This one leans hard on the grossout humour - I’d compare it to something like Savage Death Valley or to a certain extent Lloyd’s Lunchbox. A man and woman are stranded on a calm sea, rowing around on a log, suffering a series of increasingly awful injuries in their misadventures. It’s definitely a ‘bodies, fucked up right?’ sorta movie, and it was a fun bit of black humour, hearing the audience go ‘ooooh’ when something nasty happens.

I had set my reservation today for ‘The Soldier’s Tale’ but I had planned things out really stupidly and had no time to say goodbye to my brother and see that film. Instead we went round the comic shop I talked about last time. It was good to see him and he seems to be having a good time on his trip across Europe.

Speaking of brothers...

I decided to take a chance on Four Souls of Coyote dir. Áron Gauder. I didn’t know much about this going in, but the brief description on the site made it sound a little preachy, so I didn’t set my hopes too high. I was so wrong, this movie was actually maybe the highlight of the day!

This is a Hungarian movie based on (nonspecifically...) Indigenous stories, with the framing device of the story being told by an old man at the Standing Rock pipeline protests. The bulk of the film is an origin story for the world: Old Man Creator - not the top god in this situation - creates Turtle Island and fills it with creatures. In a dream, he creates Coyote, and mistreats him at once; Coyote, an obligate carnivore in a world that does not yet know death, steals the creation mud and creates humans

So most of the film then tells how, through a series of events, Coyote ends up complicating the idyllic scenario by introducing death into the world, and sexual reproduction, and inspiring the creation of lightning and fire before being betrayed by the humans he created, eaten, and on his final life, driven away. It’s a really interesting sort of mythological schema: even Old Man Creator doesn’t know the why of it all, and there’s this kind of idea that a lot of the way things work happened not by design but by mistake (perhaps according to the ineffable design of , and once something is created it’s irrevocably part of the world, so we just have to make do.

I have no idea what’s based on mythology and what was created by the Hungarians, but what makes this all work is the incredible animation. This is just a really really strong work of traditional animation, with fantastic colour and compositing to boot. It might genuinely be the best looking film I’ve seen this whole festival so far, which is nuts. There are all sorts of characterful touches in every shot, the magic is presented in a really elegantly straightforward way, and the whole story unfolds with a compelling degree of intricacy and tension, setup and payoff.

Coyote, the famous trickster, is certainly the main character of this movie. He’s a fascinating character; arrogant, quick to lie and in love with his own cleverness but also we can see his pride comes from the rough circumstances of his creation, where he’s chewed out by his creator from the get go and everyone pushes him away.

The second act of the story sees Coyote free the imprisoned lightning (who’s like. a kind of dragon creature ig?) and go across the sea, discovering the Europeans, who in this story come from the discarded clay that Coyote used as a first attempt at humans; seeking revenge, Coyote invites the Europeans back to Turtle Island, not realising the level of destruction they will bring, or that they will chain him up and call him a dog. Spending the last of his four lives, Coyote has a final face turn where he tries to save the humans.

There’s a bunch to be said about this movie, and once it gets a release I am dying to show it on Animation Night. Its treatment of gender for example feels a bit too rigid and traditional, with the archetypal Man and Woman as the main human characters. The Europeans are presented as getting their power from enslaving Lightning, which is a neat way to make the story centre on what happens on Turtle Island; however, the parable-like telling kind of ends up feeling a bit too simplified where the Europeans show up and destroyed the single (kinda Plains in visual presentation) Indigenous society with overwhelming military force, which is like... not really how it all played out, but it works for the presentation of this movie, where the invasion is kind of a coda to the main story.

The ending of the movie sees the workers, ordered to bulldoze a mountain for the sake of a pipeline, climb out of their bulldozers and join the protestors, with the CEO lady in charge impotent to stop them. In our more depressing reality reality the cops showed up and drove away the protestors by overwhelming force.

I have this much to say though because the movie was so good. But tbh this is just a British girl’s impression. I really want to get Araña’s opinion on this one.

Not done yet, I went to see the student films, block 2. This turned out to be another amazing time: at the big screen in Bonlieu, even this late, loads of people were there and it was the most Annecy showing yet; so many paper planes flying about. Most of the students who made the films were present in the audience and after each film stood up so we could applaud them.

The films were also really good! There are some crazy talented animation students in this world.

Havnesjefen dir. Mia L. Henriksen, Konrad Hjemli (Norway) told the story of a swan known as the Harbourmaster, known for attacking boats in the Norwegian town of Os, who was put down after he started putting humans at risk. It tried a number of ambitious things with the animation: Roger Rabbit-like compositing into live action backgrounds, and Creature Comforts-like animating characters based on real interviews with random people. The result was rough, but pretty cute and effective.

Ressources humaines dir. Titouan Tiller, Trinidad Plass, Isaac Wenzek (France) was a wonderfully dark stop motion film about a guy going to have his body recycled into a chair. It really plays up the awkward everydayness of the scenario, with the documentary camera wandering around and the cheerful patter of the receptionist; the result was great.

Makulatour dir. Tim Markgraf (Germany) was fascinating: a bunch of fluid motions filmed through a microscope (I think??) edited to music. Absolutely absorbing, I have no idea how he did it.

Deniska umřela dir. Philippe Kastner (Czech Republic) is an autobiographical story about a boy whose dog dies, and how he comes to terms with it through art. It’s got a really nice monochrome textured style that made me think of paint on velvet.

Bottled Insects dir. Yuxin Gao in Japan was where things got really nuts. This is traditional animation but not at all anime, incredibly textured and shaped creatures that sort of make me think Masaaki Yuasa and sort of make me think HYLICS. It portrays a girl who collects weird creatures, building up a massive wall of them in her room; it has an ambiguous mood (the blurb says it’s about her losing her sense of self) but a strong flow and just wild imagery. I loved this one.

Hobune dir. Jass Kaselaan (Estonia) was... I’m not entirely sure what the deal with this one was. Lots of odd military imagery and concrete housing blocks. A horse falls over and gets up. The drawing was very rough and line boil-y. But yeah idk I didn’t get it, it’s another one of those ‘disconnected surreal images’ type of ones.

La Nuit Blanche dir. Audrey Delepoulle was great though. Gorgeous paint-y textures and use of lighting, it shows people desperately trying to preserve their crops with burners as frost closes in. It made me think of Frostpunk, but much more grounded. Really tense and beautiful.

Passagers dir. Celia Hardy from Belgium used a similar technique to The Wolf House, animating by painting onto walls and painting over each previous frame, mixed with stop motion. There wasn’t a lot of narrative but there was definitely a lot of very inventive movement, and in general it was really fun to watch.

Priyo Ami dir. Suchana Saha (India) was an abstract one, heavily textured paint, lots of morphing shapes... I can’t remember a lot of what actually happened in it besides the cunnilingus lol. But it definitely felt very personal and sincere, and I respect putting such a film in front of everyone.

Sewing Love by Yuan Xu (Japan) took the metaphor of a partner filling a void in your life to a very literal sense. A boy meets a girl who fills the gap inside him, but when she leaves, he becomes desperate, and restrains her, eventually physically sewing her inside his body. But inside her body she retreats into a tiny ball where she grows new butterfly wings and eventually hatches out. Big metaphors! But the animation was completely wild, with all sorts of morphing and weird perspectives, I can’t even imagine what the process must have been like. I didn’t like this one as much as Bottled Insects because the metaphor felt a bit overbearing, but I was really impressed by the animation.

My last film of the night was Unique Time dir. Yu-Jin Oh (South Korea). This film was crazy technically good, like you could tell me that Studio Mir made this and I’d believe you. The scifi premise is that there are androids who holographically take on the appearance of someone, used for all sorts of purposes; our main character is an android who develops a glitch causing them to create a unique face and identity. A photographer jumps on this as a chance to become relevant again, and the android’s face is soon plastered all over the city... and inevitably a line of mass produced clones is produced. ‘Jay’ (the name assigned by the photographer) is deeply disturbed to realise they’re still just a product, and gets in a very public fight with the photographer; afterwards, they are factory reset, but the glitch still persists... It’s definitely well within the familiar territory of cyberpunk stories, but the execution carries it - it’s hard to believe this is a student film.

By the time all this was done I had to walk back because the buses had become very infrequent, but damn, so worth it. What an amazing day. It took me more than two hours to write all this up lol, between that and catching up on sleep I’ve missed the whole of Wednesday morning rip.

Time to get out there and see some more films!! Annecy is amazing I really wish I could take you all down here.

[hmspogueobx]

Everything to me (Paul Lahote)

Chapter Eleven: Made for it

"So how often do we do these bonfire parties?" I whisper in Leah's ear as we walk out towards the blazing fire. Leah lets out a snort.

"Apparently all the time. But my mom said this time Billy's gonna tell the tribe's story. Like a sort of initiation for all the newer pack members."

Now I'm really excited. I've heard the stories before from Uncle Harry, but not since I became a wolf and knew they were real. Leah and I take a seat beside Paul and Jared. I try to jack a hotdog from the pile they have between them, but my hand is swatted away by Jared.

"Get your own hotdog women!" He declares.

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't know all 30 of these were for you!" I sass back, knocking him over and swiping one while he's down.

Leah nudges me and I grab a hotdog for her thinking that's what she wants, but when she doesn't take it from me I look and see her gaze fixed on something. Or someone. Jacob has come strolling in with none other than Bella Swan. I start to move towards her in the hopes of getting rid of her; she already controls most of our lives at this point, she has no right to be here too. This is sacred stuff. I'm stopped by a sharp look from Sam.

"I told Jake he could bring her. Sit your ass back down little one."

I shuffle backwards and take a seat between Paul's legs. Paul leans down and plants a kiss on the top of my head. I feel his chest rumble as he laughs.

"Just listen to the story, feisty." And I'm swept away by the deep majesty of Billy Blacks voice.

The following weeks pass pretty uneventfully. We patrol, we eat some delicious meal that Emily and I make, we sit outside Bella's window all night, we repeat. The only out of the ordinary thing is when I'm patrolling with Jake one night and I see in his thoughts that Bella broke her hand punching him in his face. He won't be living that one down for a while. My new nickname for him is hardhead. It's then that he decides to ask me to come with him to Bella's graduation party. When I immediately refuse, he gives me massive puppy dog eyes and says he needs me for moral support, or to defend him in case Bella attacks again.

That's how I find myself climbing the steps of the Cullen's house, hairs standing on end at being in their home. Teenagers are crowding every inch of the place, dancing and having a good time. A part of me longs to join them and celebrate my nearing graduation, but I can't let me guard down with vampire stench in the air. Jacob's spotted Bella and we make our way through the crowd to her.

"What are you doing here?" She snaps.

"You invited me, remember?" Jake says calmly.

"Was my right hook too subtle for you? That was me uninviting you." She says bitterly.

I let out a snort at this and give Bella an uncommon smile, earning a smile back. "Serves him right. He was being a total ass."

"Thanks Luce, I was getting to that. I am really sorry though Bella. But I brought you something. A graduation present. Made it myself" At this, Jacob reaches in his pocket and pulls out a small hand carved russet wolf. It's a really sweet gesture.

"Wow, you made this? It's really pretty. Thanks." Bella then loses her focus and with an "I'll be right back" Walks away from us.

"Well isn't she a hoot." I mumble.

She joins the fortune teller leech on the stairs and the panicked look on her face calls to the protectors in us. Needing to know where the danger lies, we move to catch up to them.

"What's going on?" I ask.

"You're not going to Seattle?" Bella asks.

"No. They're coming here."

We're ushered into a private room on the top floor of the house. The blonde one who seems to be in charge introduces himself as Carlisle and the other two as Alice and Jasper.

"They'll be here in four days." Alice says.

"This could turn into a bloodbath." Carlisle mumbles, worried for his family.

"Who's behind it?" Edwards directs to Alice.

"I didn't see anyone I recognized... maybe one." Alice thinks back to her vision.

Recognition springs across Edwards' face as he sees into her mind. "I know his face. He's local. Riley Biers. He didn't start this."

"Whoever did's staying out of the action." Alice exclaims.

"He must be playing with the blind spots in your vision." Carlisle suggests.

"Either way, the army's coming and there aren't enough of us to protect the town."

They've been bantering back and forth so quickly that I was struggling to keep up, but that certainly got my attention.

"Excuse me?" I blurt out just as Jacob asks "Hold up, what damn army?"

Carlisle explains that an army of newborn vampires is coming after Bella. I have never been so nervous while also being so excited. This is what we're made for man. Jacob tells Bella exactly that, clearly trying to get a rise out of her.

"Look at us, getting along. This is what you wanted, remember?"

I look at Bella with a glint of mischief in my eye.

"This is gonna be fun."

[stesichoreanpalinode]

Happy birthday Brian May! To celebrate here is a found poem from his lyrics:

Hey, he used to be a man with a stick in his hand

(Hoop diddy diddy, hoop diddy do)

She used to be a woman with a hot dog stand

(Hoop diddy diddy, hoop diddy do)

Now you've got soup in the laundry bag

Now you've got strings, you're gonna lose your rag

You're gettin' in a fight

Then it ain't so groovy when you're screaming in the night

Let me out of this cheap B movie

Tried to be a son and daughter rolled into one

You said you'd equal any man for having your fun

Ooh, now didn't you feel surprised to find

The cap just didn't fit?

The world expects a man

To buckle down and shovel shit

What'll you do for loving

When it's only just begun?

I want you to be a woman

Ooh whatever came of you and me

America's new bride to be, ooh, don't worry baby I'm safe and sound

Down in the dungeon just peaches 'n' me

Don't I love her so

Yes you made me live again, yeah

And the night followed day

And the story tellers say

That the score brave souls inside

For many a lonely day sailed across the milky seas

Ne'er looked back, never feared, never cried

Yeah, ooh, a thin moon me in a smoke-screen sky

Where the beams of your lovelight chase

Don't move, don't speak, don't feel no pain

With the rain running down my face

Buddy, you're a young man, hard man

Shouting in the street, gonna take on the world someday

You got blood on your face, you big disgrace

Waving your banner all over the place

I'm a man with a one track mind

So much to do in one lifetime (people do you hear me)

Not a man for compromise and where's and why's and living lies

So I'm living it all, yes I'm living it all

And I'm giving it all, and I'm giving it all

Are you gonna take me home tonight?

Aah, down beside that red fire light

I call her name

And 'neath her window have I stayed

I loved the footsteps that she made

And when she came

Oh Rock of Ages, do not crumble, love is breathing still

Oh Lady Moon, shine down a little people magic if you will