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@mirageformed | steve & billy are lost in the fog 💀
Waking up in the forest had felt more like a dream than reality, but the cold dampness of dead leaves beneath his skin had been the first real shock. Dreams weren’t cold, wrapped in icy fog that crept into your very bones--and from what Steve understood, neither was death. Once you were gone that was it, no feeling, no thought, just nothing. So how had he ended up in the middle of the woods when he had been so sure that he had been dying?
The wounds were healed, if they had ever been there at all. Steve hadn’t stopped to check, following the faint light of a fire to a clearing in the woods. A meeting around a bonfire, maybe? Dark shadows milled about in front of it, the firelight shining warmth on tired, sullen faces. Unfamiliar all--until Steve actually recognized one of them with a horrible jolt. Of all people to run into in the unknown--Billy fucking Hargrove. Maybe Steve really had died and gone to hell.
Even after learning everything he could about monsters and mindflayers, Steve had a rough time coming to terms with his new reality. Plucked from Death’s icy fingers only to be dropped into a twisted nightmare, eternal torment at the hands of bloodthirsty killers and a faceless entity who seemed to delight in their terror. A part of Steve had wanted to call bullshit, to convince himself that he was dreaming it all up, that Billy wasn’t really there, that Steve wasn’t really there. But all too soon the Entity chose to break in her new pet, drawing from his memories the glimpses of a strange laboratory: the place where everything began.
Darkness engulfed him once more, and when Steve opened his eyes again the labyrinthine hallways of Hawkins National Laboratory stood before him. Splashes of dark blood glistened in the unnatural glow of flickering lights, and an alarm sounded somewhere in the distance. The heavy thrum of nearby machinery caught his attention for a moment or two, but once Steve realized he couldn’t use it (even if it was functional) he lost interest. Just like Billy and several others had tried to warn him, the trials were real, little more than a game designed to entertain the cosmic being that now tugged at their marionette strings.
Heart pounding, Steve began to explore, searching for anything that he might use as a weapon. Anxiety prickled across his skin, uncomfortable and hot, fingers flexing against the phantom handle of a bat he desperately wished he had. A couple of tools left on the ground might have worked in a pinch, but Steve decided to hold onto the heavy metal flashlight left abandoned by an old generator. At least he would be able to see where he was going, and judging by the sudden peal of terrified screams from somewhere above him, he was going to need every advantage he could find.
#mirageformed#i figure they start off separated and steve is just lost lmao#find him before he shocks himself on a generator#agsjfhadsf#👑 —— 𝓈𝓊𝒷𝓊𝓇𝒷𝒶𝓃 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔┊(steve.)#❤ —— 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓂𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝑔𝑜 𝑜𝓃┊(ic.)#📼 —— 𝒹𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒽 𝒾𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒶𝓃 𝑒𝓈𝒸𝒶𝓅𝑒┊(verse — dbd.)
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Your tags on my Billy Hargrove gifsets | pt5 (pt1) (pt2) (pt3) (pt4)
@talesfrom-theupsidedown @ariesbilly @bottombillyrights @neonponders @steve-bambi @mortalprojection @biillys @mirageformed @rascheln @lazarusrisingcoded @junkyardcamaro @billyswangotango @harringrove-heroes @neonponders @witchsickness
#billy hargrove#billyhargroveedit#stranger things#strangerthingsedit#your tags on my post#gifs by disdaidal
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@mirageformed | prince steve has wandered into the woods 🌲
Sinister clouds rose in the distance like steel-gray mountains, their peaks jutting against the deepening blue of the late evening sky like haunting promises of the storm to come. Snow would fall before long, yet for now the night was still, almost serene. Silvery moonlight bathed the fresh, untouched snow in an ethereal sort of glow, glistening from the very tree tops to the crystals that crunched so softly beneath expensive, leather boots. A gorgeous sight, the wintery night’s beauty belying its fatal nature.
Citizens of the kingdom were advised against entering the forest, but not expressly forbidden. Hunters often ventured into the outskirts, searching for birds, rabbits, or even the very deer that illustrated the family crest of the house Harrington. For generations the crown and stag had represented the royal family, emblazoned proudly on flags, tapestries, suits of armor--and the beautiful silver ring the crown prince always wore. The creatures of the woodlands were sacred, but none moreso than the old forest god, a deer himself, fabled to be oldest and wisest being in existence. Steve wasn’t sure if he ever even existed, but he was sure that the answer to their problems lay somewhere before him, lost among the pines.
For weeks now the kingdom had seen death and despair, his own people dying from a mysterious illness no one could cure, nor seemed to care about. His father refused to do anything, and whenever Steve spoke up he was cast aside, told to be quiet, to keep his nose out of things he couldn’t understand. But the suffering had become too great, too unbearable, and after doing some research of his own he discovered that it wasn’t the first time such a thing had happened. Every hundred years the same plague seemed to befall the townspeople, spawning legends and myths abound. The only constant Steve seemed to uncover was that the forest somehow held the key, whether it be found in the icy brambles of the witch’s hut, or the distant cave of the rumored god. Perhaps neither would bear fruit, but if there was some way to stop the spread of the disease, Steve would stop at nothing to find it.
A chilling snow wind began to blow as he moved past the first sparse trees guarding the entrance of the forest, the stars overhead beginning to mist over with fine clouds. The storm was on the move, bringing the first gentle snowflakes by the time Steve crossed an ancient, rickety bridge above the frozen river. The light seemed to change, as though he has suddenly passed the threshold between safety and the unknown. Although he could still turn back, it felt as though everything had shifted. Nowhere left than to press on.
Wolves howled somewhere in the distance, their famished chorus echoing through the trees, but still Steve refused to turn back. The sword at his hip was really more for show than for practical use, but it was still a deadly weapon--a weapon with which Steve had some training. Not very much, unfortunately, but perhaps enough to fend off an attack. And which each step he took, the likelihood of an attack seemed to increase. Fingers closed around the hilt of the sword, anxiety quickly causing paranoia to flare up within him. Unseen eyes seemed to follow him, their presence lost to the shadows beyond, but rather than seek out the threat Steve kept his gaze fixed firmly ahead of him. He was already putting himself in enough danger as it was; he hardly needed to go looking for anything more.
#mirageformed#wooo i finally did it#pretty prince starter :D#do you wanna build a snowman#with this planchette i found#and like a tuba#👑 —— 𝓈𝓊𝒷𝓊𝓇𝒷𝒶𝓃 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔┊(steve.)#❤ —— 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓂𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝑔𝑜 𝑜𝓃┊(ic.)#📼 —— 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝓌𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝓉𝓇𝑒𝑒𝓈┊(verse — lost constellation.)
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@mirageformed billy and steve investigate a haunted house 👻
Every day felt like an odd dream, worse even than the nightmares Steve had each and every night. Originally he had figured it was just stress, the usual source of his bad dreams, but now he couldn’t be so sure. Halloween night had seen someone get abducted by a spectral form, vanishing into the fog somewhere near the woods. Steve was certain he had seen it, positive someone had gone missing, and while he couldn’t explain it away he knew he needed answers. He was just grateful people were actually humoring him, though he had the feeling Billy helped a lot with that. Without him on board, everyone he knew would just tell him he was being stupid, and ultimately Steve would believe it.
He wasn’t being stupid though--not really. Old newspaper clippings had given them the lead to check out the historical society, and while breaking in might be considered pretty idiotic, Steve didn’t care. They weren’t there to steal anything or cause any damage, they were just there to find out whatever they could. Any new information would be worth the trip.
Dead leaves crunched underfoot as they walked, the frail beam from Steve’s flashlight illuminating only the slightest bit of ground ahead of them. Orange light filtered through the trees, cold, dying rays from the rapidly fading autumn sun. By the time they actually reached the house it would be full dark and uncomfortably cold, but Steve didn’t care. His thin jacket wasn’t nearly enough to combat the November chill, but even in the midst of a crisis it seemed he was ever a slave to fashion trends. Form over function, especially now that Billy was back in the picture. Had to leave an impression, after all.
Patchy fog began to obscure the woods as the light died down, the recent rain likely to blame for the evening’s weather. Though it wasn’t dense, it added to the creepy ambience, and without thinking Steve took a step closer to Billy. He wasn’t entirely sure what good he’d be against an actual ghost, but the closeness made him feel better all the same.
“I hope we find something here. I don’t even care what it is at this point. My head hurts and I just want something I can focus on.” Anything to stop the buzzing anxiety swirling around inside of him. “My dad used to talk about how important this place was, how like it told the whole story of our town and its legacy. But my family goes way back, so...pretty sure that’s what he really cares about. His name, preserved for the ages...”
A sigh slipped past his lips, misting in the cold evening air. The ground beneath their feet began to slope downward, and Steve was extra mindful of where he stepped, hardly wanting to trip over a tree root or something equally as embarrassing and go tumbling down hill. Ahead of them the old house loomed up like some ancient beast in the darkness, the classic silhouette of every haunted house from every movie ever made. Steve believed he could practically hear it beckoning to its latest, unsuspecting victims, lulling them into its dark depths.
“So, I probably should have thought of this sooner, but...how exactly are we getting in? It’s not like we can just walk in through the front door, and we’re not gonna be lucky enough to find an open window...”
#mirageformed#dw billy will just pick the lock#and get immediately owl'd#:(#sorry billy#hope that doesn't sting too much..#👑 —— 𝓈𝓊𝒷𝓊𝓇𝒷𝒶𝓃 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔┊(steve.)#❤ —— 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓂𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝑔𝑜 𝑜𝓃┊(ic.)#📼 —— 𝒹𝒾𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝓎𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝑒𝓁𝓈𝑒┊(verse — nitw.)
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@mirageformed | billy & steve in the upside down ❤
This hadn’t been the plan. Had they really expected everything to go so smoothly, though? Vecna must have realized what they were up to, must have sense them coming. Before Robin and Dustin could even get through the gate had suddenly closed, covered by thick, pulsating vines that refused to budge on either side. They hadn’t made it all that far either when they decided to check out another gate; a sudden earthquake shook the ground so violently Steve stumbled and nearly fell, absentmindedly grabbing onto Billy’s arm for support. A chorus of shrieks rang from the trees nearby, and when the destruction from the tremor, as well as the impending threat allowed them no time to search for a way to the others. Nancy’s voice called out from the crackle of their radio, telling them to regroup at the school, and then she was gone.
Getting there seemed to be an issue of itself, their path not exactly the easiest to follow in the nightmare world. The school wasn’t terribly far from where they had been walking, so Steve understood why Nancy would have latched onto it as a rendezvous point, but getting anywhere on foot felt impossible. Even when Steve knew the town so well it felt as though they were wandering in circles. How could they be lost?
Keeping himself focused was starting to feel like a chore, the blood loss definitely beginning to get to him. He felt feverish again, chills running through his body every now and again, and he knew it wasn’t just the chilly air of the Upside Down. He felt like shit and probably looked nearly as bad, but Steve knew he had already rested enough. Besides, even if he wanted to sit down now he couldn’t; they were trapped, and as far as he could tell they weren’t alone. Thankfully no bats had swooped down on them just yet, but Steve kept glancing upward, as though expecting a swarm to suddenly materialize out of the storm. And if those screams hadn’t been bats...
Monsters roamed the land around them, drawn by the scent of blood, and Steve was all too aware that his wounds were still fresh enough for a predator like the demogorgon to track. Vecna could send anything after them if he wanted to, and the last several years had brought them all countless horrors. Even if Vecna ignored them the world around them might choose to swallow them up in an instant. They had to be careful.
“We’re getting further away from the school. Why the hell does it feel like we’re being lead? There’s no way the roads were this screwed up in ‘83. Do you think it’s like...changing? Did the earthquake do this?”
Billy wouldn’t have the answer, Steve was well aware, but he couldn’t stop himself from talking. Anxiety prickled across his skin, and the conversation both helped calm him and keep him clear. The fog that threatened to cloud his mind continued to creep in, and Steve was far too stubborn to admit that he might not really be up to such a task. God, what he wouldn’t give to just climb into bed right now, to close his eyes and let himself drift into a sound sleep without pain, without nightmares, without any of this. He was just so tired.
“Wonder if any of these cars actually work...”
#mirageformed#setting up the scene#they can get stuck somewhere and have to talk#or they can have a heart to heart on the way to the hospital or at the hospital#OPTIONS#:D#also im taking control of how the upside down works#because fuck you duffers#im silent hilling this bitch#👑 —— 𝓈𝓊𝒷𝓊𝓇𝒷𝒶𝓃 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔┊(steve.)#❤ —— 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓂𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝑔𝑜 𝑜𝓃┊(ic.)
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@mirageformed | steve & billy at the bonfire party 🍂
Parties in the woods were nothing new; kids had been drinking and getting up to no good for generations, and the forest kept things nice and private. The town was well aware of what was going on, but it didn’t seem as anyone even cared anymore. With what seemed like everything suddenly on the decline and the population falling under a blanket of despair, was there even any point into breaking up these get togethers? So a bunch of kids decided to get drunk and high and mess around--who cared? Theft and destruction was hardly even looked into; a little party wasn’t going to even make a blip on the police’s radar.
When Steve had first heard about the party he had had his share of misgivings; the last party he went to had ended in disaster. Nancy had gotten drunk and broken his heart, giving way to weeks of awkwardness and pain until Steve realized she had actually gone as far as to cheat on him with Byers of all people. Since then everything had changed, and Steve had withdrawn, his life slowly spiraling into nothingness. But Billy was back in town and everyone seemed interested in the bonfire--how could Steve say no?
Unfortunately things had soured almost immediately. It hadn’t taken long for Steve to realize Nancy had also shown up, causing hot anxiety to prickle across his skin. His love life had been non-existent since the break up, and while he had told Robin that he was over his ex, seeing her smiling by the soft glow of the fire made him realize what a lie that had been. She was always going to be a part of his life, his first love, the girl that stole his heart and crushed it between her fingers. A large part of him knew better than to try and even talk to her, but after several beers Steve could no longer differentiate between a good idea and a bad one. Talking to Nancy suddenly seemed like the best idea there was.
Four beers might not have seemed like a lot, but Steve’s tolerance was nothing spectacular, never really had been. Since that fateful Halloween party, Steve had more or less quit drinking, only looking into it when he couldn’t sleep--or just couldn’t stand to think anymore. These days two drinks left him feeling buzzed. Three put him on a log by the fire, and four brought him to Nancy, his dark eyes attempting to focus on her slightly blurry form. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew better, but the words were already tumbling out before he could stop himself.
Before long the party effectively came to a halt, quieting and drawing in close to see what the argument was about. Normally Steve would have cared, would have been mortified, but the alcohol had turned his mind fuzzy, switched off his better judgement. If the onlookers wanted a show, then Steve would make sure to give them one.
“Steve, that’s enough, stop--”
“Why? Why should I stop? Just because you’re not having fun?” Steve made a derisive noise and gave a roll of his eyes. “Jesus, you must be real fun at parties. Oh, wait--no you’re not. And here I was thinking you’d want the truth since you’re the mature adult here...”
“The truth? Steve, you’re drunk--”
“Oh, that’s familiar.” Biting laughter tore out of him, dark and humorless. “Because--because I remember when you got drunk and told me I was bullshit. That you didn’t love me and that you were just using me until someone else came along. And guess what? That was all true, Nance! Guess I am bullshit! But I don’t run off and cheat with the first guy who looks at me!”
Several of the party-goers broke out into chatter, some seeming to stand behind Steve, most in support of Nancy. Overall it just seemed the majority of the onlookers were enjoying the drama unfolding, like some bizarre soap opera. Robin’s voice called out from somewhere behind him, but Steve ignored her, focusing instead on the angry look on Nancy’s perfect, prim little face.
“Oh, wait--sorry. Sorry. I forgot; I’m not allowed to be the one who’s a mess. I don’t get to break apart and be the one falling down drunk. That’s your job. What’s wrong, Nance? You don’t like being the one to get shit-faced anymore? Did going off to college make you even more perfect and popular? God, whatever. You’re the one that’s bullshit. I’m getting another beer--maybe if I drink enough I can bring myself down to your level and forget I ever loved you, too.”
#mirageformed#steve is causing A Scene™️#get him in the car please#before he falls into the fire omg#not like nancy didnt have it coming#everyone just watching like 👀#sadasdsasf#📼 —— 𝒹𝒾𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝓎𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝑒𝓁𝓈𝑒┊(verse — nitw.)
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@mirageformed | nancy & robin ❤
Hawkins Lab was like a scar, a blemish on the sleepy little town that could be covered, but never forgotten. Not even two years had passed since the incident that had caused it to be shut down, and yet somehow it felt as though the facility had fallen into ancient history. No one talked about it, no one cared about it, and certainly no one was operating it. Left to rot, perhaps. Or maybe something a little less innocent. Maybe it was being kept, locked up to keep whatever was left behind inside.
Nancy had no idea just how bad things had gone. When she and Jonathan had gotten themselves picked up the lab was still up and running, pristine and functional. Will spent hours being looked at by doctors and it was easy enough to believe that the people there knew what they were doing. But a matter of hours had turned the entire place upside down. The loss of life had been devastating, and, coupled with the information she had collected, could not be swept under the rug. The lab shut down, victory had been theirs.
Or so they thought.
Nothing was ever easy in Hawkins, it seemed. Were they cursed? Built on an Indian burial ground, or something? A part of her wanted nothing more than to move away after high school ended, but what did that mean for her family? What about Steve? Who was going to watch out for him when something inevitably went wrong? Robin? The girl seemed nice enough, if not a bit on the weird side, but Nancy doubted she could be trusted to really come through for him in a state of panic. She was tough, and obviously clever, but was that enough? Every year it felt as though they barely scraped through, surviving by dumb luck and sheer fortitude. Robin didn’t have the same history the others had. She didn’t know what they knew.
And yet it was this same girl that Nancy found herself with, wondering vaguely if she hadn’t made a mistake taking her to the lab. Steve needed rest, and Eddie--well, Nancy wasn’t taking him along for the ride. Robin seemed like the most capable of the group at the moment, and Nancy did have to admit she was beginning to trust her more. She just couldn’t explain the feeling she got every once in a while out of the blue. Was it jealousy? Or something else? Both Robin and Steve swore up, down and sideways that they weren’t dating, but why wouldn’t they be? And, if they did decide to get together, why should Nancy even care? She was with Jonathan, still, and they were happy. Very happy.
Weren’t they?
A sudden rush of irritation flooded through her like fire, burning across her skin. Annoyed, Nancy slammed the car into park, tossing errant curls out of her eyes. There were worse things to worry about than relationships, and if they didn’t solve this thing soon it wouldn’t matter what she felt for Jonathan. He’d be flying out to Indiana for her funeral, and Nancy Wheeler would just be another tragic victim of a cursed town.
“You sure you wanna do this?” she asked, turning her attention to the girl in the passenger seat. “You don’t have to go in. There’s no guarantee we’re even going to find anything here...”
Some files, maybe, if they were lucky. Anything about Vecna would be a miracle, but at this point Nancy would be satisfied with even the smallest clue. They were rapidly approaching the eleventh hour and Max was still in danger at every moment. A single lead would be a massive boon for them.
“I don’t think it’s dangerous. It’ll just be...tedious. You know, just to be clear.”
#mirageformed#wooo i finally wrote something#:D#:DDD#hope theres nothing spooky and scary in here#🍒 —— 𝒸𝒽𝑒𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝒷𝑜𝓂𝒷┊(nancy.)#❤ —— 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓂𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝑔𝑜 𝑜𝓃┊(ic.)
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@mirageformed | billy & steve ❤
Clouds drifted across the sky, heavy and dark, carrying the promise of a major storm, and yet Steve couldn’t remember the forecast being so...gloomy. Just a few minutes prior the sky had been fairly clear, the weather calm and comfortable if not a little on the cold side. Pretty common for Hawkins in early spring, and while they got plenty of rain Steve found the sudden darkening of the sky to be almost supernatural. As they walked, he found himself staring up through the deathly still leaves, the air becoming almost stagnant. But before he could mention how weird the shift was, a sudden, gut-wrenching sound drew his attention.
“Does anyone else hear that...?”
A heavy chime of an old grandfather clock echoed through the woods and Steve paused, realizing with a sudden jolt that he was alone. The clock struck again, and sudden panic rose in his chest, settling in his throat and silencing anything else he might have said. In the distance something screeched, a familiar and monstrous sound that haunted Steve’s dreams, among other things. Fog rolled in across his feet, icy and thick. Another chime. Another shriek. Something was coming.
A branch snapped in the distance and Steve turned in time to see something lumber out of the darkness, hunched over, like a dog. For a moment he did nothing, didn’t even dare to breathe, his mind racing. Pins and needles exploded across his skin like something was clawing its way across his body. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, but even as a deep voice called his name he refused to tear his eyes away from the monster. Not until the clock chimed one final time, at least. As if on cue, the demodog launched forward, and without thinking Steve turned on his his heel and ran.
Maybe he would be okay if he could find the others. They might have mysteriously vanished, but they couldn’t have gone far. Fuck. He had no idea what to do. With his heart pounding painfully against his chest he couldn’t tellwhether or not the creature was still behind him either, but Steve didn’t dare turn to look. If he stopped, he would be torn apart, weaponless, helpless. Why the hell hadn’t he at least thought to bring his bat for support? The damn thing was like a security blanket at this point. When he made it back home he was making a point to grab it from the trunk of his car.
If he made it back.
#mirageformed#a little short one finally :D#for now.#just a little in between scene :D#👑 —— 𝓈𝓊𝒷𝓊𝓇𝒷𝒶𝓃 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔┊(steve.)#❤ —— 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓂𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝑔𝑜 𝑜𝓃┊(ic.)
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@mirageformed | billy & steve in vecnland part II ♥
For so long the future had seemed so bleak, a dark void that stretched into eternity, into nothingness. Fading into obscurity, into a loveless, unhappy life alone while everyone found the place they were meant to be. Left behind without even a chance for redemption, a karmic comeuppance years in the making. Steve would have said he deserved it, would have accepted slowly dying in a minimum wage job to pay for the sins of his past. Hell, he would have easily died for a town that had turned on him, for people who scorned his presence. But Billy had swept in at the eleventh hour, come to his aid like some fairytale prince. It had almost felt too good to be true.
The fight against Vecna had been rough, but they had pulled through, survived to see another sunrise. They had found each other after all this time, and Steve had been able to be honest, to confess his love and receive it in return. There was a chance for happiness, for a new beginning, and Steve wasn’t going to let his own fears get in the way this time. He was done running away.
Moving to California had been his idea, one that Billy had picked up on immediately. Getting out of Hawkins had always been a dream, and Steve honestly didn’t care how he did it just so long as the town was put behind him. Traveling the United States, seeing the national sights, ending up on some beautiful beach--it had always been a fantasy, one that had finally been made real. Pink and gold sunsets, stormy blue waters, palm trees and sunshine--and the love of his life. Even if he had no money, Steve was happy. Finally happy.
Dark purple clouds rolled across the brilliant sky, the final rays of sunshine illuminating the oncoming storm that southern California so desperately needed. Rain had been more of a novelty than a staple, Steve had discovered, and although he missed the rainy forests of Indiana he had to admit the weather in Santa Monica was beautiful. When they did get a major storm it was always an event, and watching the lightning flash over the ocean was breathtaking. It might have been childish of him, but Steve liked to watch the rare summer storms whenever he got the chance.
“I wonder if we’ll lose power if it gets bad,” he asked, eyes drifting toward the ocean. The couch faced their small television set, but the window beside them was large, easily offering a beautiful view of the water. A perfect little house, peaceful and sweet. Smiling, he took Billy’s hand, lacing their fingers together as he rested his head against the other’s shoulder. “Could be kinda nice. You and me...stuck in a storm...all alone in the dark. Sounds like the beginning to a really good movie. I wonder what kinda trouble we might get into?”
#mirageformed#FINALLY i did it#:D#:DD#sure hope no monsters show up :D...#sure hope no monsters are in this room rn :D!#👑 —— 𝓈𝓊𝒷𝓊𝓇𝒷𝒶𝓃 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔┊(steve.)#❤ —— 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓂𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝑔𝑜 𝑜𝓃┊(ic.)
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@mirageformed | steve & eddie before the final battle ♥
Watching the others prepare for war was surreal, something so beyond anything they had done before that Steve wasn’t sure what to think. Robin had been taught how to use a gun by Nancy, cautioned that firearms were only an in case of emergency scenario only. Molotovs sat by the trailer en masse, enough alcohol to burn down the entire Creel house to the ground with Vecna inside. The Sinclair siblings were making spears, and Dustin and Eddie had the shields to go with them. On a normal day Steve might have been able to convince himself it was all for that roleplaying game shit so many were into.
He really wished that was the case.
A heavy pall had fallen over him, dark, stormy clouds blocking Steve’s usual sunshine. Three years. Three goddamn years of this shit, and it still wasn’t over. Each year brought something more horrible than the last, and Steve had fought tooth and nail to survive. But how long was that going to last? Already he was one foot in the grave; was this the time he wouldn’t make it back? Would his luck finally give out? Dying a hero’s death wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to him, but how many others might go with him? If worse came to worst could he at least get the others back out? And what happened after he was gone?
Gone. How weird to imagine the world without you. Everyone you knew would keep going, life continued. Day, night, spring to summer, to autumn to winter. But for Steve it would all be over. He hated that thought, hated it even more knowing it wasn’t the first time it had crossed his mind. It did, however, bring up something he needed to talk about, and there was only one person who would actually understand his point of view.
Excusing himself from Billy’s company, Steve caught Eddie’s attention, motioning for him to follow him out of earshot of the others. Never in his life would he have imagined talking to Eddie so seriously; the man had been just his drug dealer, a student who couldn’t get through high school to save his life. When Dustin started hanging around with him Steve had balked, calling Eddie a freak. Much to his shame (and immense relief), he had been wrong. Eddie was a good guy, and that was the very reason Steve trusted him to take up the torch in his absence.
“Hey, I need to talk to you about something. This is all pretty new for you, but this isn’t my first fight. It’s dangerous, and there’s a chance things aren’t gonna go our way. I’ve been watching you; these kids love you, man. They really look up to you. Even Sinclair’s little shit sister seems to like you, and that’s impressive. And...and it’s made me think.”
For a moment Steve paused, licking his lips in thought. Eddie wasn’t a stupid man by any means, even if he was kind of all over the place. He was older than Steve by nearly two years and yet acted so young, so carefree that sometimes Steve had to envy that freedom. There was a wholesomeness behind ripped clothes and metal hair, a goodness Steve could feel as though it were a palpable thing. It was no surprise that people would flock to someone with such a heart of gold.
“I’m just gonna say it: I don’t know what’s gonna happen in the end here. If--” He hesitated a moment, letting the heavy, unspoken when hang in the air between them. “--If shit goes south and I don’t make it out of this, I want you to take care of Henderson for me--got it? I mean, the kid practically idolizes you, it’s crazy. I misjudged you, Munson. You’re the kinda guy he’s gonna need in his life after all of this. So I guess my whole point is...I can trust you, right? ”
#mirageformed#steve 100% going into battle expecting to die#no one tell billy#or dustin#😩#👑 —— 𝓈𝓊𝒷𝓊𝓇𝒷𝒶𝓃 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔┊(steve.)#❤ —— 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓂𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝑔𝑜 𝑜𝓃┊(ic.)
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@mirageformed | billy & steve at the library ♥
The ride to the library had been awkward, quiet, much worse than the trip to Pennhurst. Not only was Steve barely rested, but his breakdown earlier had been embarrassing to say the least. But if anyone was going to be there for it, he was weirdly grateful that Billy had been the one to see the seams come undone. Unlike the rest of his friends, Billy didn’t judge him for having emotions, for feeling a certain way and letting it overwhelm him. Nancy seemed to think very little of him, which broke his heart anew each and every time he realized it over and over again. Dustin treated him like a child, and he was sure they had all agreed he was just an idiot--which, Steve had come to understand, was all he would ever be.
But not Billy. When Steve’s life was falling apart Billy let him grieve for it. He brought him out of his spiral, didn’t chastise him for having an emotional melt down. It wasn’t his job to pick up the pieces, but ever since returning to Hawkins Billy had been getting Steve through the worst of it. It just reminded Steve that he needed to do more, to pull his own weight and give back whatever he could. Billy had enough things to worry about; he didn’t need all of Steve’s burdens added to them.
Steve was still quiet when they walked into the library, sullen, pale, tired. Of course he hadn’t expected his asshole boss to understand what was going on, but he hadn’t expected to actually lose his job, either. What would his dad say when he got home and found out? Mercy wasn’t on the table, he knew that much, and even the thought of living in his car was laughable when he realized his father would take that, too. But his own sad future wasn’t important, not when there was so much more at stake. So rather than wallow, Steve decided to pay attention to the task at hand--follow up on what they had learned from Victor.
“I haven’t actually been here very often. Like...a few times as a kid. I always just went to the school library when I needed something.” Which wasn’t often. Steve had rarely done his own research, had written a handful of papers on his own, and only really studied because Nancy had asked him to. After the break up, he had felt like there was no point in trying to get good grades anymore; college wasn’t going to take him, and he was going to be stuck in Hawkins forever. What good was a library going to do, then?
“So, uh...what should I look for, exactly?”
#mirageformed#useless deer wanders into local library#just wait til he starts learning things lmao#he'll get so excited#👑 —— 𝓈𝓊𝒷𝓊𝓇𝒷𝒶𝓃 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔┊(steve.)#❤ —— 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓂𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝑔𝑜 𝑜𝓃┊(ic.)
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@mirageformed | will & mike in california ♥
Birthdays had never been huge in the Byers family, but for most of his life Will had enjoyed them. Jonathan had always done his absolute best to see him smile, even when they were kids, and his mother saved up to get him one nice present. There was always a lopsided cake with a funny little theme, and several years in a row his mom had put cheap little toys on top to make things cute. One year she had found a bag of little plastic dinosaurs, and although Will had never really been into them he had loved the effort. But the past couple of years had been less than ideal, more stressful than they really ought to have been. He was tired, and finally Will thought he was back to having birthdays with people who loved him, far away from the nightmares of Hawkins, Indiana.
That morning had been hectic, but his mother had offered to make him breakfast. This Will declined, claiming he would rather go out to eat after their trip to the airport. Jonathan seemed a little...out of sorts, but he had handed him a poorly wrapped gift all the same. Will was only just turning fifteen; he couldn’t imagine the sort of stress he’d feel when he was Jonathan’s age. Allowing his older brother to smoke away that anxiety was a gift he gave in return. El, of course, was incredibly cheerful, excited to the point of being unable to think of anything other than Mike. Nearly a year had passed since they last saw him, and Will’s own excitement gave him awkward butterflies in the pit of his stomach. He really wished they would just go away.
Grabbing the rolled up canvas from his room, Will tossed his meager birthday gifts from his family onto his bed and hurried outside, climbing into the Surfer Boy’s pizza van that waited outside. It was really nice that Jonathan had made a friend, and nicer still that said friend was willing to drive them all over Lenora--even if it was a company vehicle. Did he have to pay for gas? Did anyone even care? Will was under the impression that the whole pizza place smoked pot and worked high. But they got free pizzas from time to time and they always tasted great, so they were doing something right, at least.
It wasn’t until the airport actually came into view that Will’s butterflies turned into cold dread. Suddenly he wished he wasn’t there, wished he could retreat into the quiet safety of his bedroom. Over the months communication with Mike had been...spotty. Being unable to call Mike for the most part had been difficult, and even when there was time it felt as though his mom was always on the phone for her job. Will had written letters, but those had tapered off too. Replies came to El nearly every day it seemed. The letters that Will received could be counted on one hand. It was depressing, and a part of Will had to believe it was for the best. As much as he cared for Mike, he knew his genuine feelings could never be returned. Wasn’t it better to distance himself now before it hurt any worse?
By the time they reached the waiting area Will had become downright sullen, a dark and stormy cloud threatening to eclipse El’s sunlight. It was his birthday, and yet the day felt as though it was all about her despite Mike being Will’s oldest friend. Each second that ticked past made him feel more uncomfortable and depressed, his sadness turning into a childish anger he chose to direct at himself. Why should he begrudge his best friend and sort-of-sister their happiness? He should be happy for them, and yet all he could think about was Mike’s face, his voice, everything that made him Mike. What he wouldn’t give just to be stupid kids again, playing Dungeons & Dragons in that dingy little basement without a care in the world.
Growing up sucked.
#mirageformed#woo i did a starter :D#poor will#lets finally fix this#😤😤😤#✨ —— 𝓈𝓂𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓉𝑜𝓌𝓃 𝒷𝑜𝓎┊(will.)#❤ —— 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓂𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝑔𝑜 𝑜𝓃┊(ic.)
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@mirageformed | billy & steve ❤
Closing always felt like a punishment, but when Robin asked if he would be able to handle it on his own he felt as though he couldn’t say no. Maybe it was pure defiance, not wanting to seem like a baby when he was the older one, or maybe it was just his selfless nature. Either way he had said yes, much to his annoyance, and found himself absolutely bored out of his mind as customers trickled off early. With most of the stores already closed, there wasn’t much to do besides see a movie, and while some people showed up afterward, it wasn’t usually enough to stay open for. Not many adults came looking for ice cream late at night, it seemed.
With ten minutes left on his shift, Steve called it a night. Everything was cleaned and stored properly, he just had to balance his drawer and lock up. He was tired and absolutely sick of wearing his idiotic uniform, even if he had ditched the hat a full hour earlier. Just who had decided on the theme of this place, anyway? Did people find it charming? Robin at least looked comfortable in hers, but Steve felt like a child. It seemed as though the girls that came in felt the same way, since so many of them ended up laughing on their way out. How embarrassing.
A sudden rush of voices caught Steve’s attention, but the late-night moviegoers continued past the ice cream shop, too caught up in the events of the recent movie to spare him a glance. It was a relief, really--technically he was still on the clock, able to serve up some quick ice cream if enough people stopped in. It wouldn’t have been the first time, either. Once a group of teenagers wandered in literally one minute before closing time, and with the manager on site Steve hadn’t been able to blow them off. The noisy pricks spent half an hour sitting and babbling over simple ice cream cones without a care in the world.
Well, not tonight. He was grabbing his keys and locking the door, no matter what.
#mirageformed#no ice cream for you billy#:(#not that he's here for that...#😩#👑 —— 𝓈𝓊𝒷𝓊𝓇𝒷𝒶𝓃 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔┊(steve.)#❤ —— 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓂𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝑔𝑜 𝑜𝓃┊(ic.)
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@mirageformed | billy & steve in rapture ❤
The invitation had come as no surprise, of course, given Cohen’s current obsession with him, but having it hand delivered in a golden box had felt a little...off. Perhaps it was the intimacy of such an act, a gift for which he would have to express immediate gratitude, or maybe it was just the way the man’s eyes had lingered on him as he pulled the ribbon free, but Steve had been uncomfortable. His own mask was special, white with gold detailing, a lavish and beautiful piece of art that would set him apart from the other party-goers. Of course, a part of Steve had also been excited; Sander Cohen was one of the biggest names in Rapture and he was doing a lot to give Steve a life of his own. His new songbird, his muse; the sweet little rabbit he could pull out of his hat on a whim. His parents didn’t approve of his foray into the arts, but Steve didn’t care. He was not about to follow his father into a life of obscurity.
The night of the party saw Steve getting ready hours in advance, picking out something he knew would catch attention. His hair had been immaculately styled with small pieces curling around the mask almost strategically. He was, of course, to look his best, just as so many others would be expected to as well: walking pieces of art, a testament to Cohen’s genius. Some of the men Cohen had handpicked were little more than statues, others dancers. A few might feature in artworks created during the event, but Steve--Steve was different. All eyes would inevitably fall on him when Cohen had him take the stage, his voice reaching to dozens of Rapture’s most elite. It was a big jump from being features on the radio, but it was a step in the right direction. Without this, he had no future. He ought to be grateful.
Wanting to be early, Steve left about half an hour before the party was set to start, planning to arrive just before the other guests. There was an art to being tastefully early, and Steve knew it was best to prevent being alone with Cohen for too long. He would still get too close, get too handsy for Steve’s comfort, but when he was this busy he couldn’t afford to let his attention wander for long. And then, before he knew it, he would be swept into the sea of masked faces, a drink in his hand and an inflated sense of importance growing within in his heart. All he had to do was ignore the creeping sense of anxiety and enjoy himself.
Easier said than done.
#mirageformed#im so excited for these bioshock aus omggg#👑 —— 𝓈𝓊𝒷𝓊𝓇𝒷𝒶𝓃 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔┊(steve.)#❤ —— 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓂𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝑔𝑜 𝑜𝓃┊(ic.)
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